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 L I E) RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVLRSITY 
 
 or ILLI NOIS 
 
 8Z3 
 C8S8-t
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD 
 
 ^ jlobcl. 
 
 ■ BY CATHEEINE CEOWE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " SUSAN HOPLET," " LILLY DAWSON," " NIGHT SIBE OF NATURE,' 
 ETC., ETC., ETC. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 YOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 GEOEGE EOUTLEDGE & CO., FAEEINGDON STEEET. 
 1854.
 
 M*COKQUODALE AKD CO., PRINTERS, LONDON WOEKS, irE-WTON.
 
 v./ 
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It was the month of December; the wind blew, and the 
 o rain fell. People — the few that were out of doors — could not keep 
 J- their hats on their heads, nor their cloaks on their shoulders : 
 
 ■" umbrellas were out of the question, and it was so dark that, 
 except immediately under the dim street-lamps, they could 
 
 N scarcely distinguish the ground they walked upon. The gusts 
 blew the rain in their faces, and almost blinded them ; and there 
 was such a whistling, howling, and j)attering, that they could not 
 hear themselves speak. The hackney coachmen abandoned their 
 stands for the shelter of the public-house, leaving their horses with 
 their drooping heads to the care of the waterman, who stood 
 dripping in oil-skin under the lintel of a door. In short, every 
 body said there had never been such a night before; and cer- 
 
 , tainly there had not been many worse. 
 
 7 Whilst all this clatter was going on outside, in a small poorly- 
 funiished room in the neighbourhood of Golden-square, ti 
 respectable-looking elderly man was tying a comforter round his 
 throat, and thrusting his arms into a brown great-coat, the 
 lining of which was torn. 
 
 " Didn't I beg you, Jane," he said to his wife, who was seated 
 by the fire reading a novel — " didn't I beg you to mend this 
 pocket?" 
 
 " I'll do it now," she said. 
 
 VOL. L B
 
 Z LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 "Nonsense! How can I wait for you to do it now, when I 
 ought to be half-way to Cavendish-square already? I've waited 
 as long as I dare, hoping the storm would subside." 
 
 " It wouldn't take five minutes," objected the wife. 
 
 " Then you might have found five minutes to do it in." 
 
 " Don't be cross, George ! " responded the lady ; " five minutes 
 couldn't make any difference; but you'd rather keep the hole to 
 grumble about, than wait a moment to have it mended." 
 
 " Five minutes and a moment are two difierent things ; but 
 you have not the slightest notion of accuracy. I dare say, it 
 would take ten minutes or a quarter of an hour at least, and I 
 can't wait, I tell you ;" and so saying, having buttoned his coat, and 
 thrust into his bosom a small white packet sealed with red wax, 
 that had been lying on the table, he moved towards the door. 
 
 " Shall you be long?" inquired his wife. 
 
 " No," said he ; " not if Hamlet's things are ready. I shall 
 only give the parcel in, and come away directly, unless I'm 
 needed for any thing else. Just hold the light here, will you? 
 I want my umbrella." 
 
 " I don't believe you'll be able to carry it for the wind." 
 
 " I'll take it, at all events; it answers for a stick if I can't 
 hold it up." 
 
 " Be back as soon as you can ! " were the last words the wife 
 uttered as he opened the street-door, thereby blowing out 
 her candle, whereupon she retreated into the parlour again; 
 Avhilst he by a violent efi'ort closed the door, and went struggling 
 on his way through the tempest, directing his step first through 
 Leicester-square to the shop of Hamlet the jeweller, which, as 
 early closing was a thing untalked of in those days, was still so 
 brilliant and inviting, that a spectator could only wonder how it 
 was that the miserable population outside did not storm and sack it. 
 
 " Well, are you ready?" he said, as he stepped in. 
 
 " Just ready," answered a young man behind the counter, at 
 the same time handing forwards another sealed packet, larger, 
 however, than the first.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 3 
 
 " Stop!" said the stranger, taking the first packet from his 
 bosom ; " just put them both up together, and I'll thank you. 
 They'll be the easier carried." 
 
 " It's a rough night," observed the shopman. 
 
 " About the worst I ever was out in,'' answered the other. 
 
 " Is the marriage to take place to-morrow?" 
 
 " If it wasn't I wouldn't be running about the streets such a 
 night as this, I assure you," returned the first, as he took the 
 parcel handed to him, which he was again about to put into the 
 torn breast-pocket of his coat, when he recollected himself and 
 thrust it into his bosom; and then, bidding the young man a 
 good-night, he quitted the shop and set his face to the storm. 
 The wind had been at his back before, and his chief encounters 
 were at the corners of the streets and the open places ; but now, 
 the blast met him, and he had literally to fight every inch of 
 the way. 
 
 The rain, too, which had intermitted for a short period, seemed 
 but to have been gathering itself up for a worse deluge, and it 
 now fell in such torrents, that, hopeless as it appeared, our 
 unfortunate pedestrian made an attempt to hoist his umbrella; 
 but, before he had got it well up, an eddy of wind took it, that 
 not only turned it inside out, and snapped the whalebone, but 
 forced the bearer to perform an involuntary pirouette, in the 
 execution of which feat he for an instant caught sight of a 
 well-knoA\Ti face, a few paces behind him, on which the bright 
 light of a druggist's door-lamp happened at that moment to be 
 shining. It was not a face he loved to look upon ; the unpleasant 
 recollections connected with the owner of it, gave fresh energy to 
 his exertions, and he set his breast to the wind with renewed 
 vigour, in order to escape an interview. Perhaps the obnoxious 
 individual observed this design to avoid him; for a moment 
 afterwards he turned suddenly round, darted up a street to the 
 right, and was no more seen, whilst the other battled on to his 
 destination, which was a certain square on the north side of 
 Oxford Road, as it was then called. The house to which he
 
 4 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 directed his steps was a large and handsome one ; one of the hand- 
 somest in the square, in short. There was a carriage at the door, 
 the coachman belonging to which had taken refuge from the storm 
 under the lintel, where, cased in his capes, he stood squeezed into a 
 corner, when our pedestrian ascended the steps, and, lading his 
 right hand on the knocker, gave a resolute single rap, betokening 
 that, although a humble visiter, he had no misgivings about his 
 welcome; whilst with the left he unloosed the upper buttons of 
 his great-coat, and thrust his hand into his bosom to take out 
 the parcel he had come to deliver, being desirous of discharging 
 his commission, and getting home again | as quickly as possible. 
 But the parcel was no longer there ! He plunged his hand deeper ; 
 desperately to the right, to the left, but there was nothing. 
 " Great God ! I've lost it ! " and upon the impulse of the moment, 
 without pausing to reflect, he turned off the steps before the 
 door was opened, and fled back the way he had come, retracing 
 liis path as closely as he could, searching the ground as he went, 
 till he reached the spot where he had attempted to hoist his 
 umbrella; a conviction flashing across liim, that it was in that 
 struggle that the lower buttons of his coat had given way, and 
 thus allowed the parcel to slip down; for this was not his 
 Sunday coat, and the buttonholes were stretched and torn, and 
 did not hold them fast. His wife had intended to repair them ; 
 but, like the lining, she had forgotten to do it. There were few 
 people in the streets, for nobody was abroad that could help it ; 
 and, unmindful of the wind or weather now, he rushed frantically 
 forwards, in the hope that the packet might have been over- 
 looked, and be still recovered. It was against his chance, how- 
 ever, that it was wrapped in white paper, and that the spot in 
 question was the best lighted of any he had passed; for the 
 druggist was a new settler in the locality, and of an ambitious 
 tvirn of mind. As our unfortunate hero approached the place, 
 his heart sank — for he remarked how clearly he could have 
 distinguished a white object on the pavement within a certain 
 ai'ea ; but, alas ! there was no such thing visible now ; and he
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 slackened his steps, and stood for a moment disheartened and 
 amazed, uncertain what to do next; when, endeavouring to 
 assume a momentary exterior of composure, he entered the 
 chemist's shop, and inquired if they had heard of any thing 
 being found in that neighbourhood 1 
 " Found !" echoed the lad. 
 
 " Picked up, I mean ; I've dropped a parcel — a white paper 
 parcel — " 
 
 "No," answered the other, shaking his head; "the wind'll 
 have blown it away, most likely : I think it would blow my head 
 off, if I was out." 
 
 The wind blown it away! The packet was not light, but 
 rather heavy for its size ; but still it might have been blown along 
 the pavement if a gust took it, till it rested in some nook far 
 from where it fell. So he paced the street to and fro, examining 
 every part of it, where he could not use his eyes, with his hands 
 or his feet, but without success. Then he walked on as far as 
 Hamlet's door, investigating every inch of the ground. The shop 
 was closed now, and, being certain that he had quitted it with 
 the parcel in his possession, he made no attempt to disturb the 
 watchman who slept there. Then he retraced his steps once 
 more to the square, and then back again, till he reached his own 
 house, where his wife had fallen asleep, over Thaddeus of War- 
 saw, by the parlour fire. When he knocked, which he did hastily 
 and impatiently, she started from her slumbers, out of humour 
 at the disturbance, as it was natural she should be; the more 
 especially as the fire had gone out, and she felt cold and stiff ; for 
 she was subject to rheumatism, and dreaded its attacks. 
 
 " Lord bless my soul, Mr. Lockwood, I thought you were 
 blown away altogether! Do you know what o'clock it is?" she 
 said, as she opened the door to admit him. 
 
 " I wish I vjas blown away, or dead, or d — d ! " retorted he 
 between his teeth, as he stepped into the passage and lifted off" 
 his dripping, shapeless hat. 
 
 " Why, what in the name of every thing has happened to you ? "
 
 b LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " Help me off with this coat, will you?" he said fiercely; for 
 it was so thoroughly soaked through, that it stuck to him like 
 Nessus's shirt, only it was a little cooler. When, with her assist- 
 ance, he had dragged himself out of it, he stepped into the par- 
 lour ; and then, taking one of the tall brass candlesticks in her 
 hand, she held it up to his face. Heavens ! what a countenance 
 was there ! Her heart quailed at the sight of it. 
 
 " In the name of God, George, what has happened?" she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " Nothing — nothing; only I've lost the money and the jewels! 
 That's all!" 
 
 " Lost the money and the jewels!" 
 
 " Ay ! lost them — dropped them ; and you've nobody to thank 
 for it but yourself" 
 
 " Why, where did you put them?" 
 
 " Where ! Why, where could I put them, but stuff them in 
 my bosom. You wouldn't have me jDut them in my outside 
 pocket, would you, for any body to put his hand in that liked, 
 and take them out? Ajid I couldn't very well put them into 
 the breast-pocket, with a hole in it as big as my fist, could I ? " 
 
 " Oh, George, George !" exclaimed the poor woman, beginning 
 to weep, and wiping her hands ; " is it possible ? Oh, good Heavens ! 
 What shall we do? What shall we do?" 
 
 " Hang or drown ourselves. I'm sure, for my part, I wish 
 somebody would do it for me, with all my soul ! " 
 
 "But tell me, George, how was it? Where did it happen? 
 Is there no hope of finding them?" 
 
 " Drop five hundred pounds and a diamond bracelet in the 
 street, and how long do you think it will lie there?" 
 
 " But some honest person may have picked it up, George." 
 
 " Pshaw ! There's not many honest people walking the streets 
 such a night as this, I fancy." 
 
 " You were walking the streets, and why shouldn't there be 
 others? But tell me, for God's sake, how it happened — and 
 where?"
 
 Lixyy LOCKWOOD. 7 
 
 " How should I know how it happened ? The parcel slipjDed 
 down, I suppose; I tried, like a fool as I was, to put up my 
 umbrella, and in the struggle with the wind my coat got un- 
 buttoned. I told you a month ago, that the holes would scarce 
 hold the buttons — didn't I ? but you never put a finger to them." 
 
 " Well, George, don't reproa<:h me now. K it was my fault, 
 IVe reason enough to reproach myself, as T shall do all the days 
 of my Hfe ; but tell me how it happened. Let's see if nothing 
 can be done. Where were you when you found you'd lost them ? 
 Were the money and the bracelet in the same parcel?" 
 
 " Yes ; Hamlet's man tied them up together. I asked him 
 to do it for safety, and I put the parcel in here, and buttoned 
 both my coats fi-om top to bottom, and I never dreamed of any 
 thing wrong till I was at Mr. Eardley's door; and then, when I 
 put my hand into my bosom to take them out, they were gone ! *' 
 
 '' And what did you do ? Did you tell them? Does Mr. Eard- 
 ley know it — or Mr. Featherstone?" 
 
 "Do! I went back again — like a madman, as I was — over 
 every inch of ground, backwards and forwards, a dozen times. 
 But what was the use of it?" 
 
 " Were there many people about ? " 
 
 "No, very few. There was one person about though, and 
 not far from me. I suspect, when I dropped it. He may have 
 picked it up for any thiug I know?" 
 
 " Who?" 
 
 " That fellow — d n him — Vaus^han Edmonstone ! " 
 
 " He ! what in the world could he be doing out in such a night 
 as this?" 
 
 " God knows ! no good, I'll be sworn. But, oh woman ! what 
 am I to do about this parcel?" 
 
 " You must go to all the police-offices — you should have 
 gone there at once." 
 
 "So I should; TU go directly. A man that I spoke to in a 
 chemist's shop, suggested that it might have blown away !" 
 
 " It would be too heavy."
 
 » LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " I don't know that. The wind was enough to blow me 
 away. But I'll go to Bow-street at once ; and to Marlborough 
 street." 
 
 ^^ ni tell you what, George, if the wind's so high it might have 
 been blown down an area." 
 
 " It might, certainly. But no, no ! somebody'll have picked 
 it up. The white paper was easily seen near a lamp, or a person 
 might kick it with his foot. A pretty find it'U be to some rascal 
 or another." 
 
 " I'll tell you what : I'll put on my bonnet and go out with you." 
 
 " What's the use of that 1 " 
 
 " And, as soon as you've been to the police, we'll go to the 
 place where you think you dropped it, so that we may be there 
 wlien the morning breaks, and have the first chance of seeing it, 
 if it is any where there; and we can look down the areas before 
 the servants are stirring in the morning." 
 
 " It's of no use, none in the world ! you'll only get your death 
 of cold, and we shall have another doctor's bill to pay. You'd 
 better go to bed." 
 
 " There's no telling what's of use, George; and I can't sit here 
 alone in all this anxiety and misery, and as for going to bed, I 
 couldn't do it!" 
 
 " But, my good woman, you don't know what a night it is. It's 
 not fit for a dog to be out in!" 
 
 " Well, George, I shall go. I can't stay here, I tell you ; and 
 two pair of eyes are better than one. You must just wait one 
 moment whilst I fetch my boots." So George dropped into a 
 chair that was behind him, and in an attitude of the utmost 
 despondency contemplated the bitterness of his destiny. It was 
 bitter certainly. Once in his life already he had been ruined ; 
 flung down from a state of prosperity — modest prosperity, such as 
 filled his soul with content — by no fault of his own; and now 
 again, when he had found friends, and the dawn of better fortunes 
 was breaking, here was a catastrophe that would sink him alto- 
 gether; for, taking the very best view of the case, he was liable
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. U 
 
 to the imputation of an unpardonable amount of carelessness ; but 
 few, lie was well aware, would limit their ideas of his culpability 
 to that. If the packet did not turn up somewhere, and prove 
 his innocence by its reappearance, he felt certain he should be 
 suspected of having embezzled it. No character — that is, no 
 character of a man in his situation of life — could withstand two 
 such assaults as this and the one that preceded it. Yes; he 
 should be ruined — this time irretrievably; cast off by the 
 friends that had clung to him, and the patron that had sus- 
 tained him, and sink into utter poverty and shame; for as well 
 be guilty as be thought so by all the world. And his poor wife, 
 dearly loved in spite of her little faults; and his cherished, 
 beautiful L6onie, their only child — must sink with him ! 
 
 How he condemned himself now, that he had not put on his 
 best coat, the lining of which was entire — foolish, foolish 
 economy ! or that he had undertaken to deliver the things at all, 
 (and the worst of it was that he had volunteered the service ;) or 
 that, having done so, he had not sent for a coach and driven to 
 Cavendish Square, instead of going on foot. How easy, how 
 simple, how natural, to have done so, instead of carrying such 
 valuables about the streets by night ! Any body in the world 
 but himself would have thought of it. But it was too late now 
 to make these reflections — the misfortune had happened, and he 
 feared it was irreparable; for how many dishonest people are 
 prowling about the streets of London by night, ready to pounce 
 on any prey — and what a prey was there ! 
 
 When his wife came down, well cloaked and clogged, they set 
 forth to face the storm, which, however, had now somewhat sub- 
 sided. The rain still fell heavily; but the wind had fallen, and 
 the two got along much better than he had expected. He went 
 first to Marlborough-street, and there told liis tale. 
 
 *^ Walable was if?" inquired the officer on duty. 
 
 " Worth seveD or eight hundred pounds, I suppose. There 
 were bank-notes to the amount of five hundred, and a diamond 
 bracelet worth two or three hundred more."
 
 10 LTNNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " Done up in white paper?" 
 
 " Yes, and sealed with Hamlet the jeweller s seal." 
 
 "Any name or address on it?" 
 
 " Not on the outside paper, but on the inside it was directed 
 to F. Featherstone, Esquire." 
 
 "What o'clock did you say it was when you dropped it?" 
 
 " About nine o'clock, as near as might be." 
 
 The officer turned his eye up to the clock ; "Why, that's upwards 
 of four hours agone! why didn't you come here before?" 
 
 " I did not think of it, I was so confused and distracted. I 
 went backwards and forwards over the ground hoping to find it? 
 and then I went home to tell my wife, and she suggested I 
 should come here." 
 
 George Lockwood was a timid man, easily disconcerted, and 
 there was something in the officer's question, and an expression in 
 his eye, that disconcerted him now, and his countenance denoted it. 
 
 " People can't always think of the best thing to do at such a 
 time, when their mind's so agitated," said Mrs. Lockwood. 
 
 Particulars pf this information were then taken down, and 
 George and his wife quitted the office and proceeded to Bow- 
 street ; but, as he turned to go, he heard some remark made behind 
 him in a low voice, and he felt that the eye of suspicion was on 
 him. 
 
 " I told you so ! " he said ; " I shall be suspected of embezzling 
 the property, and probably be taken up and flung into jail." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " returned his wife. " Mr. Eardley wouldn't do 
 such a thing." 
 
 " Why not ? He stood my friend once, when few men would 
 have done it, and when appearances were as bad as they could be 
 against me." 
 
 " Much more than they are now," said his wife. 
 
 " Yes j but you can't expect a man to go on always lifting up 
 a broken reed that can't stand upright. Besides, I can't face him. 
 I won't face him ; I could no more go and tell him I've lost the 
 money and the bracelet than I could fly."
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 1 1 
 
 " But he must know it to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Yes, he must ! When he finds they're not come, he'll send 
 for me." 
 
 " But that will look very bad, George — waiting to be sent for. 
 You must go of your own accord; I wish you'd gone last night 
 instead of coming home. But you must go in the morning, 
 before he is out of bed." 
 
 " Even if Mr. Eardly should believe me, Mr. Featherstone 
 won't. Why should he? He knows nothing about me but that 
 I've been suspected of fraud, and was discharged for it. Of 
 coui*se, he'll suppose I'm at my old tricks, and will say so at once; 
 and how am I to prove otherwise?" 
 
 " It's no use looking at the worst side of every thing, George ; 
 and at what may never happen. Tilings are bad enough as they 
 are." 
 
 " Bad enough, God knows!" echoed poor George, with a sigh. 
 
 At Bow-street the interrogatories were much the same as at 
 the other office; and, as the consciousness of standing in a question- 
 able position had now gained strength from what had passed, the 
 nervous, agitated demeanour of the stranger, struct suspicion at 
 once into the minds of the officers. 
 
 " Does the gentleman the things belong to know of the loss of 
 them?" they inquired. 
 
 " Not yet ; it was too late to disturb him." 
 
 " I thought you said it was only nine o'clock." 
 
 " Yes, when I dropped them : but I went backwards and 
 forwards over the ground, in hopes of finding the parcel." 
 
 A smile of incredulity curled the lip of Tanner as he remarked, 
 that " retracing your steps in the hope of finding a parcel 
 dropped in a London street, was like looking for a swallow at 
 Christmas. You must advertise in the morning papers. You 
 should have been at The Times office before this ; you'll be too late 
 now." 
 
 George said he would, and went away still more wounded and 
 depressed than he was before ; and since it was no use going any
 
 12 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 where else then, as it wanted still four hours of daylight, they 
 returned home, where he wrote the advertisement, which was 
 to be sent on the following day to The Times; and after some 
 persuasion induced his wife, who was cold, wet, and weary, 
 to go to bed, promising to awaken her as soon as it was light 
 enough to make any further efforts towards repairing theii" 
 mi.-;fo]'tune.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Catherine Eardley, the daughter of a rich banker, a beauty 
 and a fortune, was to be married to Sir Ai'thur Glenlyon. 
 Her parents doated on her, and woukl have done any thing in 
 the world to make her happy except let her maiTy the man she 
 liked; but since she had consented to many one she did not, they 
 gave her a superb trousseau and twenty thousand pounds down 
 on the wedding-day, with the prospect of a great deal more 
 thereafter. Besides these paternal bounties^ she had considerable 
 expectations from a rich uncle, who was in a bad state of health, 
 and might die any minute. This uncle, whose name was 
 Featherstone, was a brother of Mrs. Eardley's, and he had been 
 residing for some years in the south of Europe for the sake of 
 the climate ; but when he heard his pretty niece was about to be 
 married, he detenuined to be present at the ceremony, and wrote 
 home to that effect. The time at which he should have amved^ 
 however, passed, and he did not appear — a circmustance regretted 
 on aU hands, since it was looked upon as certain that he would 
 come do^vn handsomely on the occasion; and it was even 
 debated whether the wedding should not be postponed, great as 
 the inconvenience of such a delay would be, considering the 
 magnificence of the preparations and the rank of the guests 
 invited to the dejeuner; when, on the very morning before that 
 appointed for the ceremony, the old gentleman arrived in a post- 
 chaise, drawn by four smoking horses, from Portsmouth. To 
 avoid the fatigue of land travelling, he had come by sea, and, as 
 there were sailing vessels in those days, contrary winds had 
 detained him. Here he was now, however — pale, thin, invalidish
 
 14 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 as ever; and of course very macli fatigued. It is unnecessary to 
 remark that he was received with empressem&nt — rich uncles 
 always are; and as he was a very refined, gentlemanly, and 
 generous old man, a widower and without children, he was 
 really welcome to his relations. 
 
 Mr. Eardley was out when he arrived, but his sister and niece 
 were at home, and, after he had taken a potage and some jelly, 
 the former recommended a little repose. 
 
 " You'll he too fatigued, Francis, to go to church with us to- 
 morrow morning if you do not lie down. You must go to your 
 room, and keep yourself quiet till the first dinner-bell, and then 
 I'll wake you myself, or send Catherine to you ! " 
 
 '• Perhaps I'd better lie down a little before dinner," answered 
 Mr. Featherstone ; " but I've got a little business to do in the 
 city fii'st, and you must let me have your carriage." 
 
 " By all means ; but you'll knock yourself up ; indeed you 
 will. Couldn't any body else do the business for you] Mr. 
 Eardley won't be home till five o'clock; but I saw George Lock- 
 wood here a minute ago, and, if he's not gone, perhaps he could 
 do what you want. I'll ring and ask if he's here still;" and 
 Mrs. Eardley not only rang the bell, but she went to the drawing- 
 room door and looked over the balustrade into the hall below, 
 where, as they came up from luncheon, she had caught a glimpse 
 of our friend George ; for she really did not like her brother to 
 encounter the fatigue of a drive into the city ; and yet, as she 
 had a shrewd guess as to the kind of business he wanted done, 
 she did not wish it deferred. 
 
 " If Mr Lockwood's not gone, beg he'U stay a minute, Mr. 
 Featherstone wishes to speak to him," she said to the footman 
 as he ascended the stairs. 
 
 " Mr. Lockwood's in the housekeeper's room, ma'am." 
 
 " Then bid him wait till I ring. Yes, Lockwood is here, and 
 you'd better let him do any thing you want." 
 
 "What! — Lockwood's in favour again, then, is he? I thought 
 he was turned off."
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 15' 
 
 " So he was for a time, and very unjustly so, we believe. 
 It's our opinion he had no more to do with that business than 
 you had," said Mi's. Eardley, nodding her head significantly. 
 
 " Wliy didn't he defend himself more vigorously, then, at the 
 time? why did he succumb to the accusation?" 
 
 " From a romantic feeling of gratitude, we think. He owed 
 every thing to Mr. Edmonstone, you know." 
 
 " Gad ! It's cariying gratitude rather far, though, to take 
 another man's forgery on your back." 
 
 " Why, it might not have been easy to prove his innocence, 
 you know. Besides, it wasn't a forgery." 
 
 " It was something very like it, I fancy." 
 
 " It was bad enough certainly, and might have ruined the 
 House. Mr. Eardley will explain it to you, I never can under- 
 stand these business matters; but it was something about 
 altering figures in the bank books. But subsequent circumstances 
 opened Mr. Eardley's eyes completely. Indeed, at the time he 
 had his suspicions; but of course it was desirable to avoid an 
 esclandre, and the affair was compromised by Mr. E.'s withdrawal 
 from the firm. He had ruined himself by speculations." 
 
 " What are they doing now — the Edmonstones?" 
 
 " Heaven knows ! I never hear any tiling of them ; though I 
 pity his wife very much. It's certainly extremely hard upon her. 
 They say Vaughan's living upon the town, somehow or other; 
 not very honestly, I dare say." 
 
 " Eardley should exert his interest to get him some little place 
 under government. It's a melancholy thing to see a young man 
 brought up as he was, reduced to such shifts. I always thought 
 Yaughan a gentlemanly lad, and I used to think that he was 
 very much epris with Kate, and that she liked him." 
 
 " They were mere boys and girls then ; and it's a connec- 
 tion Mr. Eardley would never have consented to. But, by the 
 by, hadn't I better ring for Lockwood? he'll be wanting to go." 
 
 " Do; by the by, is there a small parcel here for me?" 
 
 " ls"ot that I know of. I'll inquire."
 
 16 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 The footman said a portmanteaii had been left the joreceding 
 day. It was in Mr, Featherstone's room. 
 
 " That's not what I mean. There's nothing else?" 
 
 " Nothing else, sir." 
 
 " Send up Mr. Lockwood," said Mrs. Eardley, " and I'll go and 
 help Kate, who is engaged with Madame Hubei-t; and, when 
 you've settled yonr business, pray do lie down till dinner-time." 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. Lockwood ! I'm glad to see yon," said 
 Mr. Feath erst one, holding out his hand as George entered the 
 room. " How are Mrs. Lockwood and your daughter?" 
 
 " My wife's not so strong as she used to be, sir ; she's a good 
 deal troubled with rheumatism ; but my daughter's quite well. 
 I hope you're better, sir?" 
 
 " Much as usual, Mr. Lockwood : perhaps, on the whole, I've 
 been better abroad than I was here; but I feel age creeping 
 upon me. We're growing older every day, Mr. Lockwood." 
 
 " We are indeed, sir." 
 
 " Mr. Lockwood, I've been detained by wind and weather till 
 I'm only just here in time for to-morrow; and I've a little busi- 
 ness in the city that my sister thinks you'll be kind enough to 
 do for me." 
 
 *•' With great pleasure, sir. If it's at the bank there is no time 
 to lose." 
 
 " Ay, it's getting late, I see, I want to make a little present 
 to my niece. Here's a line to my broker, Mr. Hackett, who 
 will do the business for you immediately. You know Hackett, 
 I dare say?" 
 
 « Perfectly, sir." 
 
 " Tell him to send the money without fail this afternoon." 
 
 " Hadn't I better bring it myself, sir?" 
 
 " Do, do ; and as you return I wish you would call at Hamlet's, 
 the jeweller, and inquire why they have not sent a bracelet I 
 ordered. I wrote about it before I left Naples, and it ought to 
 be here by this time." 
 
 "I will, sir; and if it's ready I'll bring it with me."
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 17 
 
 Mr. Featherstone then retired to his chamber, whilst George 
 proceeded on his mission; but it happened to be a busy day at 
 the bank, and it was some time before he could get speech of Mr. 
 Hackett, or that the latter could find time to do the business 
 required; so that it was late when he got back to Hamlet's, 
 and then he found the bracelet was not ready. A delay 
 had been occasioned by a flaw having been discovered in one of 
 the principal stones ; but it would be finished without fail that 
 evening, and sent home the next day. 
 
 George inquired at what time it would be finished, and, know- 
 ing what a disappointment there would be if it was not delivered 
 in time, ofiered to call for it; and, having no scruple about con- 
 fiding it to a person who they knew was employed by Mr. 
 Eardley, they promised it should be ready for him by eight 
 o'clock, if possible. 
 
 By this time, however, Lockwood wanted his dinner. He 
 had intended to take the money to Mr. Featherstone before 
 he went home ; but he had been running about all day transact- 
 ing matters connected with this marriage, and now he was 
 weary and faint with hunger; and he knew that his wife 
 would be anxiously waiting for him; so he determined 
 to go home first, and walk up to Cavendish-square after- 
 wards; but whilst he was at table, the rain, which had been 
 threatening all day, began to fall heavily, and the wind being 
 too high for an umbrella, he felt unwilling to leave his fireside, 
 where he presently fell into a nap, from which he was aroused 
 by the maid running foul of the door as she was bringing in the 
 tea-things. 
 
 "Bless me!" he said, "I ought to have carried that money 
 to Mr. Featherstone before this. He'll wonder what's become 
 of me." 
 
 " It's a dreadful night," answered his wife ; " wouldn't to- 
 morrow morning do ? " 
 
 " No, no ; I must take it directly. Give me a cup of tea, and 
 I'llbeofi'at once!" 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Mrs. Lockwood wanted him to liave a coach, but George ob- 
 jected to sending the maid out in such a storm, when probably 
 there would be none on the stand; if there was one he'd call 
 it; and after waiting nearly an hour, to see if the storm subsided, 
 he put on his great-coat and started on his expedition, as I have 
 narrated. 
 
 When Mr. Featherstone was dressing for dinner, he sent his 
 valet to inquire below if Mr. Lockwood had returned. When 
 he came into the drawing-room to take his coffee he repeated 
 the question, wondering he didn't appear. 
 
 " Lockwood has not come back from the city," he said to his 
 sister; "at least, he has not been here." 
 
 " He has gone home to eat his dinner first, I dare say. He'll 
 be here in the evening, no doubt. He often comes, poor man, 
 to have a game at whist in the housekeeper's room; so Fenton, 
 my maid, tells me." 
 
 " Well, Cattie," said Mr. Featherstone, taking a place on the 
 sofa beside his niece, which had just been vacated by her lover; 
 " so you're to be turned ofi" to-morrow, eh^' 
 
 " Yes," answered Catherine, with a little toss of her head. 
 
 " I always thought Vaughan Edmonstone was to be the 
 happy man; you used to be inseparable when I left England." 
 
 " C'est de Vhistoire ancienne,'' said Catherine. " Vaughan 
 Edmonstone's poor, now. You wouldn't have me marry a 
 ruined man, uncle!" 
 
 " Have you been long acquainted with Sir Arthur?" 
 
 " We knew him before he went abroad." 
 
 " He's a very fine-looking man." 
 
 " Yes, he's not ill-looking." 
 
 " Well, my dear Cattie, I'm sure I hope you'll be happy ; and 
 remember you'll always have a friend in Frank Featherstone — 
 that is, as long as he lasts ; for I'm a broken- down old fellow, 
 and not likely to hold out long." 
 
 " My dear, good uncle ! " said Catherine, laying her hand upon 
 his, which rested on the sofa between them; " but I must go
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 1 9 
 
 away from you, for I shall be crying in a minute, and that won't 
 do just now." 
 
 Mr. Featherstone looked after her as she rose and went 
 over to a bevy of fair girls, who were to be the bridesmaids of 
 the following day, and who, having been introduced in the 
 morning to her ^row^seat^ and jewels, were all envying her happi- 
 ness. Such a lovely Honiton veil ! Such adorable coiffures ! 
 Such inimitably embroidered pocket-handkerchiefs ! 
 
 " And I believe Mr. Featherstone's present is to be something 
 superb; but it's not come home yet. He only arrived to-day 
 himself from Naples," 
 
 " Oh! I know what it is," said another; "my sister. Lady 
 Osborne, saw it yesterday at Hamlet's. It's a bracelet — splendid, 
 she says." 
 
 " Well, it's a nice thing to be Lady Glenlyon and have all 
 these fine things ! " said one ; " we're all saying what a lucky 
 girl you are. Cat tie." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " said Catherine, with a strange kind of 
 smile. 
 
 " How cold she is ! " said one of the girls aside to another. 
 " I don't think she has the least heart." 
 
 " Those very fair girls never have much feeling," said Miss 
 Beauchamp, who was a brunette. " Do you admire Sir 
 Arthui'?" 
 
 " I think he is very gentlemanly," answered one. 
 
 " He looks too grave and quiet for me," said another. 
 
 " Cattie, my love, why don't you go and talk to Sir Arthur 
 a little? He looks quite uncomfortable there in the corner 
 alone." 
 
 " He can come to me, if he likes, mama." 
 
 " My dear child, I wish you'd recollect that to-moiTOW he'll 
 be your husband, and have it in his power to make you uncom- 
 fortable if you make him so now." 
 
 " Perhaps he'll do that whether I do or not." 
 
 " Oh Cattie, Cattie! How thoughtless you are!"
 
 20 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " Am I?'* said Catherine, with a bitter little laugh. 
 
 " It's a singular thing, Maria, that Mr. Loekwood has never 
 returned with the things I sent him for!" observed Mr. 
 Featherstone to his sister. 
 
 " I think it's the badness of the weather has prevented him. 
 Rely on it, he'll be here in the morning."
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 21 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The storm, which had been the source of so much mischief to 
 poor George Lockwood — for, had the evening been fine, he would 
 have put on his best great-coat and carried the parcel safely to 
 its destination, in the pocket — the fatal storm had subsided in 
 the night, and the morning dawned as brightly as December 
 mornings ever do, in London, on Catherine Eardley's wedding 
 day. The household was early astir, and making preparations 
 for the dressings and the dejeuner, and the incessant ringing of 
 the door bell and the slammings of the area gate announced in- 
 numerable despatches from the purveyors " of all the delicacies 
 of the season," who, with the artists of the toilet, are not unfre- 
 quently the only parties who have any real cause to congratulate 
 themselves on these splendid alliances. Catherine Eardley was 
 sipping her cup of cafe au lait in her dressing-gown, and her 
 mother was sitting beside her, with the tears in her eyes and her 
 handkerchief in her hand, with which she ever and anon wiped 
 them away as they gathered. Mr. Eardley was looking a little 
 after the affairs of his cellar, and talking to his butler about the 
 champagne, when Mr. Featherstone rang his bell for Martelli, 
 his valet, and, having ascertained the hour, he inquired if a parcel 
 was come for him. 
 
 " Si, signor; the gloves that were ordered yesterday." 
 " It's not that ; go and inquire if Mr. Lockwood has been here." 
 No : it was ascertained on inquiry that Mr. Lockwood had not 
 made his appearance. 
 
 This was most extraordinary ; and, as Lockwood had foreseen, 
 the recollection of the former accusation recurred to the mind of
 
 22 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Mr, Featherstone, and suggested painful suspicions. So he 
 ordered a cup of chocolate, and sent to request a few words with 
 Mr. Eardley, who immediately obeyed the summons. 
 
 "Well, how are you, Featherstone, to-day? Nothing the 
 worse of your journey, I hope?" 
 
 " No, I think I'm much as usual. How are Catherine and 
 her mother?" 
 
 " Quite well; very busy, I fancy, with the paraphernalia." 
 
 " By the by, I don't think Cattie looks very well. She doesn't 
 look so bright as she used to do." 
 
 " She has every reason to look bright, I'm sure. Many a girl 
 would be glad enough to step into her shoes. A title and a 
 handsome settlement ; and Sir Arthur is a man of excellent cha- 
 racter. She ought to be happy, if any thing canmake a girl happy." 
 
 " I hope she will be happy, poor thing ! What I wanted to see 
 you for, however, was 'about this Lockwood. I sent him yester- 
 day to the bank, and to Hamlet's, and he has neither brought 
 what I sent for, nor come back himself! Is he in the habit of 
 being so negligent?" 
 
 "By no means. He's one of the most punctual fellows alive; 
 something must have happened to him. I'll send off somebody 
 to inquii^e." 
 
 " Do, if you please ; for what I sent him for is a little present 
 for Kate, and I'm impatient to give it her," 
 
 " I'll send directly," said Mr. Eardley, quitting the room, whilst 
 Mr. Featherstone again summoned Martelli, and prepared to rise. 
 
 The nimble messenger soon returned, bringing word that Mr. 
 Lockwood was not at home, but was expected by his wife every 
 minute; and Mr, Eardley concluded that he had somehow or 
 other been prevented transacting the business on the previous 
 day, and was gone to do it now. Mr. Featherstone, however, 
 though he said nothing, had other notions. " He has decamped 
 with all the money and the diamonds," thought he. So he as- 
 certained his address, and, as Martelli was unacquainted with 
 London, he sent for a coach and started himself for Hamlet's^
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 23 
 
 where lie learned exactly what he expected, namely, that the 
 bracelet had already been delivered to Mr. Lockwood. 
 
 "We thought you would have had it last night, sii-; Mr. 
 Lockwood called for it between eight and nine o'clock." 
 
 " Perhaps I shall find it in Cavendish-square on my return," 
 Mr. Featherstone said ; but his private opinion was that he should 
 never see either the bracelet or Mr. Lockwood, to whose house, 
 however, he next drove. 
 
 As the coach stopped, he saw a haggard face appear over the 
 blinds at the parlour window, and immediately afterwards, before 
 the coachman had time to alight, the street door was opened by 
 Mrs. Lockwood herself, who thought it was her husband, for 
 whom she had been anxiously watching for some hours. When 
 she saw that it was a stranger, she suspected what he had come 
 about, and her pale face became paler as he inquired if Mr. 
 Lockwood had returned yet. 
 
 " ISTo," she answered ; " but she was sure he would not be long. 
 He had gone out about business; and she thought when the 
 coach stopped that it was he." Mr. Featherstone saw that she 
 had thought so ; but he also saw that she was very much agitated 
 and alarmed, and he concluded that she was beginning to suspect 
 the truth. 
 
 " Do you know any thing of some money and jewels that 
 he was to have delivered in Cavendish-square? my name's 
 Featherstone; and I expected he would have brought them to me 
 Ixst night." 
 
 " I know he intended to do so," she answered. 
 
 " Can you tell me if he got the money at the bank ? " 
 
 « Yes, he did." 
 
 " And he also got the bracelet from Hamlet's, for I am just 
 come from there; why didn't he deliver them?" 
 
 " The night was very bad — " she began. 
 
 " But he might have taken a coach ! Or this morning? what 
 keeps him away this morning % " 
 
 " To say the truth, I don't know, sir," she replied, beginning
 
 24 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 to weep; "and I'm getting very uneasy about Mr. Lockwood. 
 I'm getting very much alarmed, indeed." 
 
 " Alarmed at what? What do you apprehend?" 
 
 " That he may have committed some rash act, sir. He went 
 away in such distress of mind that I shouldn't wonder at all if 
 he did something to himself The truth is, sir," she continued : 
 " I may as well tell you — for you must know it, at last, I fear — 
 Mr. Lockwood has had a misfortune: he dropped the parcel 
 last night in Oxford-street as he was carrying it to Mr. Eardley's, 
 and he has been out all night trying to find it." 
 
 " Dropped it ! that's very extraordinary ! " 
 
 " It is very extraordinary, sir; and it was that distressed him 
 as much as the loss of the things — he said he was sure he should be 
 suspected of making away with it;" and the poor woman cried 
 ready to break her heart, adding that it was all her own fault 
 for not mending his coat; and, after some further conversation, 
 Mr. Featherstone, who was obliged to hasten home to be ready 
 for the wedding, left her, pretty well satisfied of her innocence, 
 but with strong suspicions of Lockwood's guilt, which, however, 
 he forbore to express at present, not wishing to disturb the 
 general felicity, nor condemn the man unheard ; and just then, 
 every body being engrossed with their own affairs, no one troubled 
 him with inquiries respecting the result of his expedition. Once or 
 twice Catherine and her mother wondered that uncle Feather- 
 stone's Cadeau de noces was not forthcoming ; but his liberality 
 and his attachment to his niece were so well known, that they 
 attributed the delay merely to his late arrival. Something very 
 pretty was to come, they were sure. So they all went to St. 
 George's church, where the young people made several very rash 
 promises, which it would have been better to consider a little 
 more beforehand ; and it was not till they were at breakfast 
 afterwards, that it occurred to Mr. Eardley to inquire of his 
 brother-in-law whether he had seen Lockwood. 
 
 " Mr. Lockwood does not appear to be forthcoming," answered 
 Mr. Featherstone. " I saw his wife, who seemed any thing but
 
 LTmrr lOCKWOOn. >o 
 
 :« t]isfc lier Innibaiid liK lossi tike 
 
 _-.;__ri them in the r:re>e: -_t i^ ja.* 
 "Impossible!'' 
 ~~ ^ Uioald saj so, too. A msm like iliai doesnt drop a 
 lae — five hundred pounds and a djamnnd Ixacdet — 
 
 in :_- =:-r-- rr easafy." 
 
 io any thing nskl; 
 
 oked Tery angcy; for 
 
 istied him with tbe 
 Ti of sodi a k»5!P 
 
 Ae same cvi-— :: L . : — i^ 
 charge of its oonTeyanoe and 
 
 When the happj pair had : 
 
 mansao nj and p mliai'lryd <m thj=- 
 
 and shoaky and qirifimandg, w: 
 roreB are wrecked — when the
 
 26 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 corner of Yere-street, and could be no longer seen — wlien the 
 admiring crowd below left off crying " Hooray ! " and began to 
 disperse, and the interested spectators above, retreating from the 
 balcony into the drawing-room, fell to wiping their eyes, and 
 blowing their noses, and enthusiastically shaking hands with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Eardley — when the company had unanimously 
 proclaimed that the bride looked lovely, that the bridegroom 
 was a very fine-looking man, and that the father and mother 
 ought to be exceedingly happy — when the ladies had resumed 
 theii* cloaks and shawls, and the gentlemen had taken another 
 bumper of champagne, in the dining-room, to the healths of 
 Sir Arthur and Lady Glenlyon — when the carriages were called, 
 and the ladies had driven off, and the gentlemen lounged away 
 into Bond-street arm-in-arm, and poor Mrs. Eardley had shut 
 herself up in her bedroom to weep; and the men-servants and 
 the maid-servants were draining the decanters, and feasting on the 
 leavings of their betters, Mr. Eardley and Mr. Featherstone 
 stepped into a hackney-coach, and set out in search of Mr. Lock- 
 wood and the lost treasure; but they gained nothing by their 
 expedition, except stronger conviction than ever that he had 
 made off with the 2:)roiJerty. They found his wife in the utmost 
 distress, for she could put but one construction on his absence, 
 — namely, that he had committed suicide; whilst they, on the 
 other hand, made uj) their minds that he was away across the 
 Channel. It was very vexatious, doubtless, but Kate must not 
 be the loser; and measures were immediately taken by Mr. 
 Featherstone to repair the mischief, as far as she was concerned.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 27 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 On tliat same morning, the events of which I have described in 
 the last chaj^ter — the morning that saw Catherine Eardley made 
 Lady Glenlyon, shortly after the sun had risen, and long before 
 the idle and aristocratic part of the world were astir ; whilst the 
 bride in Cavendish Square was still slumbering on her pillow, 
 and the sleepy servants were creeping down-stairs to the early 
 laboui-s of the day; whilst Mrs. Lockwood, who had not been in 
 bed all night, with swollen and bloodshot eyes was peering up and 
 down the street from the parlour window; and he whom she 
 was vainly straining them to see was balancing his life in his 
 hand, as, frantic with distress, he paced the banks of the river, 
 and, staring into the water, wondered how soon the sorrows of a 
 wretch that plimged therein would be ended; whilst all these 
 things were doing and suffering in London, a young man in 
 somewhat shabby clothes — shabby from age, time, and wear, for 
 they were well made, and of fine materials — having the air and 
 carriage of a gentleman, drove up to the door of a small inn, or 
 public-house, near Battersea. The vehicle that brought him was 
 a gig, apparently a hired one, for it was a good deal the worse 
 of use, and the horse that drew it looked as if he too had seen 
 better days. The young man threw the reins to the ostler, bid- 
 ding him give the animal a feed directly, as he had not long to 
 stop. He then inq\iii'ed how soon he could have breakfast, and 
 as the preparation of that repast seemed likely to occupy rather 
 more time than he had to spare, he asked for a tumbler of milk 
 and a glass of rum, wliich, having mingled to his taste, he tossed 
 off, and then, saying he should be back presently, he walked
 
 8 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 riskly away towards Battersea Rise, where he rang at the gate 
 f a large brick house, whereon was inscribed " Mrs. Barnard's 
 loarding-School." After a pause, to be accounted for by the 
 ntimeliness of the visit, a grave elderly man, thrusting his arms 
 ito a plum-coloured coat, and dangling a large key on his finger, 
 ppeared at the door, and, having deliberately surveyed the 
 granger, advanced with an air of severe disapprobation to the 
 ate. 
 
 " I wish," said the young man, " to see Miss Lockwood." 
 
 " Miss Lockwood ! " said the servant ; " it's too early to see Miss 
 iOckwood." 
 
 " Not at all too early," returned the other. " She's up, of 
 3urse, and I've particular business with her. Have the good- 
 ess to say so ! " 
 
 " Prayers isn't over yet. She can't leave the school-room till 
 rayers is over," answered the other, doggedly. 
 
 "D — n prayers!" ejaculated the visiter! "My business 
 an't wait : I come from her father, who is extremely ill, and 
 rants to see her immediately." 
 
 This information appeared to have some effect on the Cerberus, 
 f^ho thereupon opened the gate, and, having introduced the 
 tranger into a parlour, left him, saying he would mention it to 
 kli's. Barnard as soon as she came down-stairs. 
 
 " It's not Mrs. Barnard I want to see ! " expostulated the stranger ; 
 )ut Daniel was not a man to be moved by expostulations. He 
 lad lived with Mrs. Barnard some fifteen years and more, and he 
 :onsidered the rules of the establishment paramount to all other 
 K)nsiderations whatever. Visiters to the teachei's were unwelcome 
 it any time, and at that early hour of the morning quite inad- 
 nissible ; even Miss Lockwood's father iii extremis must wait till 
 prayers were over, and the morning lessons read. 
 
 When you are in the hands of a person as inexorable as 
 Daniel, there is nothing for it but to submit with what resignation 
 ^ou may. The present visiter being but indifferently provided 
 m that department, was extremely impatient, and employed the
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. Z! 
 
 interval that elapsed till Mrs. Anne Barnard's high-heeled shoe 
 echoed on the stairs, in pacing the room with his hands in hi 
 pockets, and muttering numerous oaths regarding " praying an* 
 humbugging," that it is not desirable should be recorded hen 
 Fully half an hour had been spent in tliis manner, and, irritate 
 beyond endurance by a delay so inconvenient, he had his han 
 on the bell to summon Daniel to another conference, when th 
 door opened, and a little woman in a black brocaded silk dress 
 open in front, a white muslin apron, and a turban on her heac 
 made her appearance. An instant sufficed to show the lady tha 
 the stranger's clothes wei*e shabby, but, on the other hand, th 
 bow with which he greeted her was worthy of St. James's ; an 
 accordingly, under circumstances so contradictory, she met hii 
 with a medium degree of civility. 
 
 "You wish to see Miss Lockwood, I hear? It is not usu£ 
 for the teachers in this establishment to receive visiters excef 
 at particular hours, and we're obliged to be very strict i 
 our regulations. My servant says the young pei"son's fathe 
 is ill." 
 
 " Alarmingly ill, madam ! Indeed, there is not a moment t 
 lose if Miss Lockwood wishes to see him alive." 
 
 " It's very inconvenient — extremely inconvenient, indeed; jus 
 as the examinations are coming on previous to the vacatior 
 But I suppose in such a case we must relax a little. If you' 
 wait a few minutes, I'll go and see what can be done." 
 
 It was fortunate that Mrs. Anne Barnard did not hear th 
 rejoinder to this oration, or she might not have returned in th 
 placable humour she presently did, to say, that Miss Lockwoo 
 had permission to visit her fiither, and was getting ready t 
 accompany the stranger. 
 
 " Then I had better step to the inn, and bring up the carriage, 
 he answered, and with a deferential bow he departed; whils 
 Miss Lockwood went up-stairs, and, with tears and tremblin 
 hands, hastily exchanged her school-room cotton dress for he 
 Sunday attire. She loved her father, and he doated on her; an
 
 30 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 the separation which circumstances necessitated had been very 
 bitter to both ; and now she was sent for home to see him die ! 
 And it was a considerable aggravation to her present distress, 
 that they had lately had a disagreement, the first in their lives. 
 Linny had a lover, who, for manifold and powerful reasons, her 
 father disapproved, and whom she would not consent to relin- 
 quish, and they had had high words on the subject — for Linny 
 was stout-hearted where her love was concerned, and maintained 
 her right to choose for herself ; and now, at this awful moment, 
 when she was going to take leave of her father for ever, she re- 
 gretted many things she had said. She might have vindicated 
 her right more mildly ; she might have yielded something ; at 
 least given the promise he required, that she would hold no com- 
 munication with the person in question for two years. He fan- 
 cied that in that space of time she would, what he called, come 
 to her senses; see her own folly, and her lover's unworthiness, 
 and so be finally cured of what he considered a pernicious con- 
 nection; but she had refused to enter into this engagement on 
 the plea that the man she loved was in adversity. 
 
 " Had the world been as well with him as it was formerly, 
 father, I'd have promised what you wish; not that the scheme 
 would have the efiect you expect : there you are mistaken. I 
 shall never change, rely on it ; but he could have done without 
 me then for a couple of years. He had so much to occupy him 
 and make him happy ; but what has he to console him now but 
 me? No, father, it would be base to desert him under such cir- 
 cumstances ! I cannot forsake in adversity, one to whom I had 
 given my faith in prosjierity ! " 
 
 And so she felt still; but, as she hurriedly prepared for her 
 departure, she was conscious that she might have said all this 
 more humbly and considerately; and she resolved that, if her 
 father required it, she would give her word to abstain from all 
 intercourse for two years; she could explain her motives to her 
 lover, who, if he were worthy of her affection, would rely upon 
 her faith; and, with these thoughts in her head, she made her
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 31 
 
 curtsy to Mrs. Barnard, promising to return and resume her 
 duties in tlie school the earliest moment she could; and, un- 
 attended, canying her little bundle in her hand, she let herself 
 out, and proceeded to the can-iage that was waiting for her at the 
 gate. Who she was to see there — who it was that had brought 
 the summons — it had not occurred to her to inquire ; her mind 
 was too much occupied with the message to think of the messen- 
 ger; and she started with amazement when she saw who it was. 
 
 " Oh, Yaughan ! " she exclaimed ; " dearest Yaughan ! I Httle 
 thought it was you. Did my father send you? Are you re- 
 conciled?" 
 
 "Step in! step in!" he cried, jumping down to assist her; 
 " I'll explain every thing by and by." 
 
 " But is my poor father very ill, Yaughan 1 Is he in great 
 danger?" 
 
 " I can tell you nothing now, Linny. You must tinist your- 
 self to me implicitly for the present;" and, touching the horse 
 with his whip, away they went. 
 
 " At least you can tell me if he is in much danger?" 
 
 " No, he's not. It is I that am in danger, Linny. It is you 
 alone that can save me." 
 
 " You in danger! Oh, Yaughan! what danger? For God's 
 sake — tell me what all this means?" 
 
 " It means that, if you love me, now is the time you must 
 show it." 
 
 " You know I love you, Yaughan ; but at least you can tell 
 me what you require of me." 
 
 " To confide in me, and ask no questions till I can answer 
 them better than I can at this moment. You have sworn to 
 be mine ; you are my wife in the sight of Heaven, and you are 
 bound to obey me ! " 
 
 Men, who never believed in any thing more heavenly than a 
 pretty woman, find heaven a very convenient word on occasion ; 
 and women who are really in love, are always delighted at being 
 summoned to obey. They admire the virile assertion of power, and
 
 32 LINNY LOOKWOOD. 
 
 they are flattered by the claim and ownership it implies. It 
 marks her for his own. Am I not his? Has he not a right to 
 command me? Self-abnegation is the life of a woman that loves 
 and she has more pleasure in exercising it, than the most self- 
 willed tyrant in controlling the will of others. So Linny 
 Lockwood, anxious and yet happy, submitted and wondered 
 whilst the old horse trotted on as fast as his stiff legs could 
 caiTy him, till they reached an inn called the King's Arms, in 
 Vauxhall road, where the gig was exchanged for a hackney 
 coach, into which Linny was assisted; and after a few words 
 with the driver, which she did not hear, was followed by 
 Vaughan Edmonstone, who in the interval had been holding a 
 private conference with the landlord of the house, who was also 
 the owner of the horse and gig. The jolly host looked after 
 them and smiled as he stood upon the steps with a bundle of 
 notes in his hand, and the ostler threw up a five-shilling piece in 
 the air, and, as he caught it again, wished the young couple 
 luck. 
 
 " She's an uncommon handsome gal, whoever she be ! " said he. 
 
 " He's up now !" rejoined the waiter, who was also caressing 
 with considerable satisfaction an unaccustomed piece of gold; 
 " and, when he*s got it, there's no denying he pays like a gentle- 
 man." 
 
 " I never thought to get my money," said the landlord; " and 
 I'd a mind to have told him yesterday, that I couldn't give him 
 no more credit till he'd jDaid up." 
 
 " It's lucky you didn't," answered the waiter ; " for he'd ha' gone 
 away in a huff, and perhaps you'd never have got this here 
 money." 
 
 "Like enough!" returned the landlord. " One never know 
 how to deal with them chaps; for they are down and up again 
 before you can say Jack Robinson." 
 
 "Who's down and up again?" inquired the hostess, who just 
 then emerged from her bedchamber. " Who's that gone away in a 
 hack?"
 
 LTNXY LOCK WOOD. 33 
 
 " Young Edmonstone." 
 
 "What's lie acloing in a hack at this time in the morning? 
 Where's he going?" 
 
 " Across the water, I take it. I heard him tell coachee to 
 drive to Tower Stairs?" 
 
 " Lord's sake ! Mr. Gamble, you ha'n't let him go away owing 
 you all that money. Didn't I tell you he'd be ojff some day, and 
 leave us in the lurch? What a fool you be to trust them sprigs 
 of broken-down gentry ! I wish you'd leave them matters to me ! 
 I'd see if young Edmonstone, or any other young mister, should 
 live here eating and drinking of the best, week after week, arid 
 month after month, and we scarce know the colour of liis 
 money ! " 
 
 ^'- Hold your tongue, 'oman ! I knew what I was about better 
 than you could tell me. Mr. Edmonstone's paid me every farthing 
 he owed like a gen'leman as he is, and as his father was afore hi in. 
 You women are always uncommon wise ; but I don't know where 
 the business 'ud be if we men barkened to you ! " 
 
 " Paid ! The deuce he has !" exclaimed Mrs. Gamble. ''Where's 
 lie got the money?" 
 
 " Made a hit last night at play, I s'pose. Howsoever he's not 
 gone alone." 
 
 " Why, who's he got with him?" 
 
 " Old Lockwood's daughter. He that was clerk in the bauk, 
 and got into trouble." 
 
 " She gone with him I " 
 
 " Ay, that is she, as sure as my name's Gamble ! " 
 
 YOL. I.
 
 34 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 And now, whilst our young lovers are on their way, I must 
 request my reader to return with me to a period a few years 
 antecedent to that of which we have been treating, at which 
 time, to the alarm and astonishment of all parties concerned, a 
 fraud had been discovered, connected with some transaction 
 involving considerable sums of money, in the banking-house of 
 Edmonstone and Eardley; and as only two persons had been 
 concerned in the affair, it was clear to every body that the guilt 
 must rest with one or both of them : those persons were Mr. 
 Edmonstone, one of the principals, and George Lockwood, his 
 favourite and confidential clerk. 
 
 A long and private conversation had just taken place betwixt 
 these two individuals, in a small room appropriated to the ex- 
 clusive use of Mr. Edmonstone; and as that gentleman closed 
 the door, after saying, " Be assured, Lockwood, I shall always 
 ]»e your friend; neither you nor yours shall ever want for any 
 thing ! " the clerk's head sank upon his desk, and he burst into 
 tears. A long time he wept; varying the expressions of his 
 anguish by pacing the room, wringing his hands, and inaudible 
 mutterings. Secure from interruption, for he had turned 
 tiie key in the lock, upwards of two hours were passed in this 
 agony and struggle; by the end of which period, the afternoon 
 was closing in, the streets were getting dusky, the lamplighter 
 was lighting his lamps, the higher classes of pedestrians had 
 forsaken the pave, and people who dined at five o'clock were 
 making their way toward their clubs and eating-houses. George 
 Lockwood stood for some time looking through the window into
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 35 
 
 the street below, when, hearing the clock in the hall strike 
 three quarters after four, he started, and, taking up his hat and 
 gloves, he moved to the door, then, after laying his hand on the 
 key, he paused, turned round, surveyed the room; took a long 
 look at a picture of Mr. Edmonstone, painted as a young man 
 in a shooting jacket, which hung over the mantelp'3ce, the 
 outline of which the dim light rendered scarcely visible; but 
 that did not signify; memory supplied all that was wanting — ' 
 the portrait was in the mind's eye of the spectator. With a 
 groan of anguish that seemed to proceed from his very entrails, 
 the clerk then turned the key and softly opened the door; after 
 listening a moment, he drew his hat over his brow, crossed the 
 hall, and issued into the street. 
 
 Just as the outer door swung after him, a junior clerk, whose 
 name was Tiggs, passed him, and entered. 
 
 " Lockwood's just gone out," said the young man, speaking in 
 a low tone to one of his companions, as he took his seat at his 
 desk. " He stole out with his hat over his eyes, and I don't 
 think he saw me." 
 
 " Poor creature ! " said the other with a sigh and a shake of 
 the head. " \yhat will become of him and his wife and daughter, 
 I can't conceive." 
 
 " He may think himself devilish lucky," said the junior; "for 
 if it had happened in any other house he'd have swung for it ; 
 and in this house, too, if Mr. Edmonstone hadn't been so much 
 attached to him. I beheve Mr. Eardley was very unwilling 
 indeed to let him off." 
 
 " I don't wonder at it," rejoined the senior. "It's a very bad 
 example, to say the least of it." 
 
 " I don't think any body '11 follow it," rejoined the junior with 
 a conceited sni^jser. 
 
 " Of all the men I have ever known, Lockwood's the last I 
 should have suspected," said the elder. "' I can suspect any 
 body after this. Somehow, I can't realize the thing to myself 
 at all."
 
 36 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " You've known him so long. Were you present wli en Mr. 
 Eardley sent for liim this morning'?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And how did he look? Did he seem alarmed?" 
 
 " Not a bit. I never saw any body more composed in my 
 life. He was standing close to me at the time, for he had 
 crossed over to look into Robinson's book for some amount he 
 wanted to ascertain, when Crambo came and said he was wanted 
 in Mr. Eardley's room, and he answered quite carelessly, ' I'll 
 come in a minute ; ' and went on balancing the debtor and creditor 
 sides of Robinson's ledger." 
 
 " And yet he must have guessed what it was about *? " 
 
 "Perfectly; at least, we all knew what the gentlemen were 
 discussing in Mr. Eardley's room, and of course every body sus- 
 pected him. There was nobody else to suspect," 
 
 " And that he must have known?" 
 
 *• One would think so ; only he persisted that the thing was 
 impossible; and that the deficiency must arise from some mis- 
 take in figures at the last settlement; and that's what he said 
 when they examined him." 
 
 " And when they taxed him with it, what did he say?" 
 
 " Why, when they proved to liim that the figures were all right, 
 and that there was no mistake, Jackson says he turned as pale as 
 his shirt, even before they accused him, and looked as if he were 
 going to faint, so that he, Jackson I mean, pushed a chair towards 
 Irim, that he might sit down." 
 
 " But he denied it, didn't he?" 
 
 " Yes, he denied it, but feebly and confusedly, Jackson says. 
 That is, he said over and over again that he knew nothing about 
 it, and so forth ; but his voice shook, and he looked so chapfallen 
 and taken aback, that he accused himself in spite of his words." 
 
 "And what did Mr. Edmonstone say? He must have been 
 uncommonly astonished ; for if ever a man had confidence in 
 another, he had in Lockwood." 
 
 " Jackson says that Mr. Edmonstone's face was quite livid ;
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 37 
 
 he never saw a man feel so much for another in his life. He 
 actually couldn't look at Lockwood, and two or three times he 
 had to take out his pocket-handkerchief and wipe the perspira- 
 tion from liis own brow, he was so agitated and distressed." 
 
 " I suppose he felt himself to blame for having trusted the 
 other so much." 
 
 '• They must trust somebody ; and I believe if any one of us 
 had been asked who was the fittest, we should all have named 
 Lockwood." 
 
 " Kext to oui'selves," said Tiggs, laughing. " I wonder what 
 he has done with the money." 
 
 " That's what nobody can conceive." 
 
 " Perhaps he's secured it somewhere for liis pretty daughter 
 with the fine name. In that case, she'd be a good S23ec ! a devil- 
 ish good spec! I wonder if he gambled." 
 
 " God knows! speculated probably; and expected to be able 
 to refund before the money was called for. I'm certain he did 
 not live extravagantly, for I've been frequently at his house ; and, 
 though every thing was plenty and comfortable, there was 
 nothing more than he had a right to have ujDon his salary." 
 
 "Well, the game's up with him now!" said Tiggs. 
 
 "Yes, poor man! He's done for himself completely; and 
 though they say the thing's to be hushed up, for the credit of the 
 firm and so forth, such things can't be hushed up. It'll be half 
 over the town in a week ; youTL see if it isn't. I wonder if 
 jMr. Edmonstone's gone?" 
 
 " Have you seen him since they broke up?" 
 
 " Ko ; he hasn't been this way. Mr. Eardley passed through, 
 looking as black as thunder ; but if Mr. Edmonstone's not in his 
 own room, he must have gone out by the hall." 
 
 " That's the way Lockwood went ; I suppose he's been shut up 
 there ever since." 
 
 During the progress of this conversation, books were closed 
 and put into places of security ; desks were locked ; hats lifted 
 from their pegs, and one by one the gentlemen filed off", or, to
 
 38 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 speak more correctly, two by two; for the event that had 
 furnished the subject of the above discourse, was one that excited 
 very general interest and wonder; and, as it was understood to 
 be a matter regarding which silence was expected outside the 
 walls, they naturally made themselves amends by discussing it 
 freely with each other : the burthen of each separate discussion 
 being very much to the same tune as the one above recorded 
 betwixt Morland and Tiggs. Amazement at Lockwood's 
 deviation from the straight path he had hitherto so faithfully 
 followed, tempered, amongst the older and more thoughtful, 
 with pity for his folly : whilst some of the younger, like Tiggs, 
 either over confident in themselves, or desirous of appearing to 
 their seniors above the fear of temptation, were more ready to 
 insinuate their contempt, than express their compassion, for the 
 unhappy defaulter. 
 
 In the mean time, Lockwood, the prey of every careless tongue, 
 and the unhappy subject of these animadversions, was approach- 
 ing his own home, a modest cottage, or villa, a little way 
 beyond the suburbs of the city. He usually went backwards 
 and forwards in an omnibus; so regularly, indeed, that, on a 
 hint from the cad, the driver on the present occasion waited a 
 few moments for their customary passenger. 
 
 " Pull up a bit !" said the former; " I don't see Mr. Lockwood 
 coming yet." 
 
 But on that afternoon Mr. Lockwood had preferred to walk ; 
 he could not comfortably meet the eyes of his fellow-passengers, 
 men, like himself, engaged in offices and professions, some of them 
 his neighboui^; he could not mingle in the usual chat, nor crack 
 the usual jokes. He had need to be alone. He had quitted his 
 home that morning a prosperous man; prosperous for his condi- 
 tion in life; respected and esteemed by all who knew him; he 
 returned to it with a ruined character, broken fortunes, and a 
 wound in his heart that could never be healed. The contented 
 present, the cheerful future, the honoured old age, were wiped 
 out from the card of his destiny. What had he to hope? nothing
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 39 
 
 but death and forgetfulness ! What had he henceforth to do in 
 this world? nothing but hide his head and suffer! 
 
 Absorbed in his wretchedness he walked on mechanically, 
 neither hearing nor seeing any thing till he was recalled to him- 
 self by the sight of his own dwelling. Then he started and 
 slackened his pace; other recollections assailed him; feelings 
 which the hurly-bui'ly of the storm that had broken over his head 
 had for the moment deadened. There was his home — his 
 comfortable blessed home; there was his wife and child — his 
 faithful Jane and his bright Linny, the object of both their de- 
 voted loves. How should he meet them ? How break to them 
 the dreadful intelligence he had to communicate? How impart 
 to them that he was a ruined man — ruined in fortune, ruined in 
 character; and that henceforth disgrace and poverty must be 
 their portion; ay, poverty — in spite of Mr. Edmonstone's pro- 
 mises — poverty ! And as these thoughts overwhelmed him, he 
 paused, and turned into a side path to postpone the painful 
 meeting, and recover, if possible, sufficient composure to go 
 through the task that awaited him. 
 
 The road he took, though not far removed from numerous 
 habitations, wa,s not yet built over. Two or three ghastly 
 skeletons of unfinished houses stood up forlornly at different in- 
 tervals by the wayside; but the man that had projected them 
 had died before his plan was completed, and nobody seemed 
 willing to carry out his idea. There were consequently no 
 lamps; and, as the evening had by this time quite closed in, the 
 darkness would have been impenetrable but for the young moon 
 sailing through the troubled rack above, which threw a fitful 
 light athwart the dreary scene. There is something peculiarly 
 desolate in neglected, uninhabited lanes in the suburbs of great 
 cities; the solitude is so sudden, and so unrural! They are 
 generally all dust or all mud, and they are, for more reasons than 
 one, not the localities one would select for a moonlight walk. 
 Lockwood, however, made no such reflections. He feared no 
 danger, nor thought of any. If he had, he would have said
 
 40 LINXY LOCKWOO.T. 
 
 '• What can liiirt one who has lost every thing already?" The 
 external world had neither light nor darkness, nor beauty nor 
 ngliness, for him now ; his eyes were turned inwards, he saw only 
 himself, and those still dearer than himself Meanwhile the capri- 
 cious moon now showed her face, now veiled it, just uncovering 
 her light sufficiently to prevent his falling over the heaps of bricks 
 that lay here and there by the way side; and he went on with a 
 vague intention of turning out of the lane at the bottom, and reach- 
 ing his home by a circuitous road, instead of retracing his steps. 
 " I must face it. I must tell them, and a,t once. There can 
 be no delay ; besides they'll read it in my countenance, my man- 
 ner. The first word I spoke would betray me!" 
 
 At that moment a powerful hand seized him by the collar of his 
 coat ; a struggle ensued, rapid and silent ; for, however indifferent 
 to life Lockwood might have felt a minute before, the instinct of 
 self-presei-vation urged him to resistance now. But his assailant 
 was a much more vigorous man than he was. 
 
 " I don't want to harm you," said the stranger; " but I must 
 have this coat. Let me take it, and I'll leave you immediately." 
 But Lockwood was not in a humour to acquiesce in such a 
 demand. The evening before, for the sake of preserving his life, 
 he might have done so, for life was then dear to him ; but he 
 was out of patience now ; the hard heel of the world was treading 
 Iiim down, and he resisted this new injury like an angry, 
 desperate man. His assailant grew angry, too; the struggle 
 ]>ecame more violent, but Lockwood had the worst of it : a blow 
 on his head stunned him, and he fell backwards into the wet 
 ditcji by the wayside. 
 
 " Cursed fool ! I didn't want to hurt him," muttered the 
 stranger as he stripped off his coat and waistcoat, and possessed 
 himself of whatever he had about him worth taking ; having done 
 w^hich, he raised him up and set him with his back against the 
 bank, lest in the recumbent attitude he should be suffocated; and 
 then, attiring himself in the habiliments he had abstracted, he 
 walked rapidly up the lane.
 
 LIJSNY LOCK WOOD. 41 
 
 111 the mean time, the dinner- hour had long gone by ; and 
 Mrs. Lockwood and Linny were wondering what could have 
 become of papa ! His habits M^ere so regular, that from year's end 
 to year's end, except on Sundays, or when there was a holiday 
 at the bank, he as surely arrived at the appointed period as the 
 planets in their places; so that his non-appearance was almost 
 as perplexing to his family as a convulsion of nature. After 
 waiting and wondering for some time, Hetty, the m^aid, was 
 despatched to make inquiries at the omnibus office; but they 
 )iad seen nothing of Mr. Lockwood, and hour after hour passed 
 without clearing up the mystery. 
 
 " Now, I wish I had started by the last omnibus and gone to the 
 bank ! " said Linny ; " but I expected every moment to hear his 
 foot on the gravel." 
 
 '• Besides, the bank would be shut, and there would be nobody 
 there but the watchman, and he could not tell you any thing. 
 It's certainly very extraordinary." 
 
 '• If papa was ill, surely they would have sent to us." 
 
 "I hope so. Perhaps Mr. Edmonstone's ill; your father 
 remarked that he had been looking very poorly of late." 
 
 " I hope nothing has happened to Mr. Vaughan ! " said Linny, 
 
 " That wouldn't detain your father, you know. Why do you 
 think so much of Mr, Yaughan Edmonstone, Linny?" 
 
 " I don't think so much of him, mama ; only you said Mr. 
 Edmonstone might be ill,"' answered the daughter with some 
 confusion; "and — " 
 
 " That's a different thing altogether, my dear linny ; but it's 
 not only what you've said now, but many other things I observe, 
 that shew me you think more of Mr. Yaughan than you should." 
 
 " My thinking of him — even if I do — can do nobody any 
 harm, mama." 
 
 " It will do yourself harm, my dear child ; I'm sadly afraid, 
 Linny, that those visits to Marlow have been very unfortunate 
 visits for you." 
 
 " ISTow, really, mama, that's not fair ! In what respect am I
 
 42 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 different since those visits to Marlow? Am I neglectful of you 
 or papa? Am I low-spirited? Do I go about the house sighing 
 like a lovesick damsel? for that is what you would imply, T 
 know;" and Linny gave a little laugh of good-humoured tri- 
 umph, for she knew full well that her mother could not say 
 yea to any of these questions. She might think of Mr, Yaughan 
 Edmonstone more often than was prudent ; she might be in love 
 with him; but she was cheerful and happy, affectionate and 
 attentive to her parents ; and diligent in the disposal of her time 
 to a very remarkable degree. In short, there were few young 
 people in the world whose conduct appeared more exemplary; 
 for, besides performing the ordinary duties of her station — such 
 as looking after her mother's household affairs, making her 
 father's shirts, and so forth — she studied various subjects with 
 extraordinary assiduity. She sought no society; indeed she 
 avoided it, saying that she was too happy in her family and her 
 occupations to need any; and so she seemed. Books, music, 
 drawing, and the acquisition of modern languages, fully occupied 
 her time. Her original education had been respectable, and con- 
 sistent with her station. She had been taught a little history 
 and geography; could play a waltz on the pianoforte, sing a 
 ballad with a sweet but uncultivated voice, and say Comment 
 votes portez vous? to a foreigner. But after her first visit to 
 Marlow, Mr. Edmonstone's country-house, new ambitions had 
 been awakened in her. She had discovered, whilst there, how 
 inferior her little accomplishments were when compared to the 
 superior acquirements of the fashionable young ladies she met; 
 and it was not altogether because she wished to vie with them, 
 or because her self-love was pained by the inferiority, that she 
 regretted her own want of cultivation; but also, because she 
 really valued the things themselves. She liked to listen to their 
 music and look at their drawings, and she longed to read the 
 books she heard them talk about. In short, Linny Lockwood 
 had talents which sought to be exercised ; and she needed but 
 the opportunity to see how that should be done, to set about it
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 43 
 
 energetically. The only indulgences she ever asked of her father 
 was to be allowed books and instiTictors ; and, having no child 
 but herself, he was both able and willing to gratify her. This 
 point gained, her progress, betwixt her talents and her assiduity, 
 was surprising. She had nothing to take her attention from 
 her studies, and her heai't was in them; and thence it arose that 
 one might have sought far without meeting in any station with 
 a more accomplished girl than Liuny Lockwood—a prettier one 
 was scarcely to be seen on a birthday at St. James's.
 
 44 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Foa tlie better understanding of my story, it is now necessary 
 to relate some circumstances connected with. George Lockwood's 
 earlier years, which may conveniently be done just now, whilst, 
 we leave him sitting in the ditch, unconscious of the lapse of 
 time. 
 
 Mr. E dm oust one was the son of an opulent country gentle- 
 man, who held considerable shares in one of the great London 
 banking-houses, and George was the son of one of the principal 
 tenants on his estate, which was called Marlow. Whilst they 
 were yet quite boys, an acquaintance arose betwixt these two 
 lads. Young Edmonstone having no brothers to occupy his 
 affections, they were constantly together, and became very much 
 attached to each other; and as Lockwood, the father, was consi- 
 dered a respectable man, Mr. Edmonstone the elder made no 
 objection to the intimacy, the rather that George himself was 
 one of the most gentle, affectionate, amiable, and well-conducted 
 lads in the whole neighbourhood. 
 
 In process of time, young Edmonstone went to Harrow, and 
 Lockwood to a commercial school of inferior note ; but as they 
 still met at the vacations, this separation caused no diminution 
 in their intimacy, which continued unabated to the age of man- 
 hood, when a circumstance occurred that has broken up many a 
 fViendship, and would probably have terminated theirs, had not the 
 generosity of one of the parties not only prevented the threatened 
 rupture, but actually knit the bond that united them closer than ever. 
 The torch that menaced this mischief was love. Mr. Edmonstone's
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 45 
 
 agent, Mr. Wedge wood, had a daughter who was the belle of tlie 
 neighbourhood; and as the young heir had a heart, or a fancy, 
 extremely susceptible to beauty, he fell in love with her, and, 
 confident in his fortune and position, forbore no opportunity of 
 letting her perceive his passion ; whilst the father, a grasping, 
 eager man, without giving such encouragement as would commit 
 himself, tacitly countenanced his attention. This acquaintance was 
 formed at a period that George Lockwood was absent from home, 
 having been sent to study farming in the north ; and to take the 
 benefit of a change of air, which some symptoms of infirmity ren- 
 dered advisable ; and it was a circumstance quite unknown to his 
 friend, that his heart had long harboured an absorbing aflfection for 
 Jane Wedgewood. He had been acquainted with her from child- 
 hood, and had loved her secretly and silently since he was ten years 
 old ; but being of a shy, modest, extremely sensitive disposition, 
 he had never disclosed his passion either to his mistress or to any 
 body else. When he grew to manhood he did not think himself 
 in a position to make her proposals ; and although his demeanour* 
 had betrayed his secret to his mistress, and her father, no one 
 else suspected it. 
 
 With regard to Jane herself, she was of an easy, unambitious 
 temper, and in that sort of state that she might have been wo!i 
 to love either of them; and to whichever she had taken slio- 
 would have proved an aflfectionate and faithful wife. She sa\v 
 that George loved her, and she liked him in return; but her 
 father gave no encouragement to the connection, and as George 
 never opened liis lips on the subject she was perfectly free. On 
 the otlier hand, Mr. Edmonstone was A^eiy fascinating, and very 
 flattering; she liked him too; she perceived clearly that Iier 
 father would be very glad to see her the Lady of Marlow ; and, 
 by the way matters progressed, there certainly appeared great 
 reason to suppose she was destined to that elevation ; the more 
 especially, as Mr. Edmonstone the elder, unexpectedly dying in 
 consequence of an accident, his son found himself at liberty to 
 marry whomsoever he pleased; and had he been asked at that
 
 46 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 period who was to be his wife, he would certainly have given 
 his vote for Jane Wedgewood. 
 
 It was at this crisis that George Lockwood returned from the 
 north, full of love, and of the resolution to declare it. His day- 
 dreams and his night-dreams had been all of Jane; and as the 
 coach he came by drove through the village and passed her 
 father's door, he looked eagerly up for a glimpse of that fair face, 
 and he was not disappointed. It was a fine, warm April day, 
 and she was standing at an open window, full of smiles and 
 brightness. As her eye caught sight of him, she kissed her hand, 
 and turned to speak to some one in the room — who it was he 
 did not see; for though another head appeared at the window, 
 tlie wheels had whirled him in the interval too far to descry the 
 features. However, he reached home full of hope and gladness ; 
 determined to return and visit her that very evening; but before 
 the evening came these hopes seemed dashed for ever. He had 
 scarcely been an hour at home when Mr. Edmonstone, now the 
 possessor of Marlow, anived to welcome him. 
 
 "I was so glad to hear you were come, George," he said, 
 holding out his hand ; " I was in Wedgewood's drawing-room, and 
 saw you go by — at least, Jane said she saw you; but the coach 
 had passed before I got to the window." 
 
 A cold shiver ran through Lockwood's veins, as he said, " Was 
 it you she spoke tof For Mr. Edmonstone had scarcely 
 known her when George went away; his being there with her 
 now seemed to argue a considerable intimacy, and the bright face 
 he had caught a glimpse of was not to be frequented with im- 
 punity. 
 
 " Yes, I was there," said Edmonstone, with a half-conscious 
 smile; "where could I be better, George, my boy? Isn't Jane 
 the pearl of damsels?" 
 
 '• You love her?" gasped Lockwood, seizing his arm, and tum- 
 iug on him a ghastly face. 
 
 " Good heavens ! George, my dear fellow, what the devil's come 
 over you? You are not in love with Jane Wedgewood, I hope?"
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 47 
 
 But George was in no condition to answer. He was leaning 
 against the gate, holding his hand to his side, and gasping for 
 breath. 
 
 "What, is it that old pain in the side? I thought you'd got 
 over it ! Or is it what I've just said? Tell me, George, for God's 
 sake! Is there any thing between you and Jane?" 
 
 " Notliing ! nothing ! " answered George. " I never said a 
 word to her in my life ! She is perfectly free ; quite — quite free." 
 
 "But you love her, George? I see it! how unfortunate that 
 I did not know this before! I wouldn't have looked within 
 a mile of her, if I'd ever dreamt of such a thing. Why in the 
 name of God didn't you tell me about it?" 
 
 " I thought you'd laugh at me. Besides it has grown on me 
 by degrees, from day to day, from week to week, and year to 
 year. I can't remember when I first began to love her. My 
 father and hers were intimate — I often told you of her, but you 
 didn't remark it then." 
 
 " Why, bless me, George ! You look as if you were going to 
 faint. Take my arm ! " 
 
 " I shall be better presently," said George. " I'm not so strong 
 as I thought I was. Say nothing of this to my father, nor to any 
 body, I entreat you." 
 
 Mr. Edmonstone was very much shocked. He knew George's 
 character well, and he was aware of his over sensitive nature, 
 his delicate constitution, and the strength of his attachments; 
 and he was alarmed, as well as distressed, by this unfortunate 
 collision. 
 
 " My dear fellow," he said, " don't look so miserable, for God's 
 sake. This is the most painful thing that ever happened to me, 
 and what to do I don't know. If I thought Jane was not 
 attached to me " 
 
 " But she is, no doubt ; she must be," said Lockwood. It's 
 all my own fault; I should have told you; but it never occurred 
 to me that you would think of Jane." 
 
 " You expected I should have looked higher?"
 
 48 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " Yes, I did ; and I remember you told me yourself that j^our 
 father had views for you, and you made no objection to them." 
 
 " Very true, George; but then I had not seen Jane; and I 
 wish now I never had seen her ! " 
 
 " Don't wish that. You couldn't m.arry any body more 
 worthy of you." 
 
 " I know," said Edmonstone, "it is what the world would call 
 a bad match for me, and that my father would have been very 
 averse to it ; but one don't think of these matters when one is 
 looking into such a pair of blue eyes as Jane's. But this 
 attachment of yours, George, is a different matter; and I own I 
 feel very much about it." 
 
 " Never mind me I " answered George. " You are not to 
 blame, nor she either, and perhaps she might have refused me if 
 I had asked her." 
 
 " You have no reason to think she was attached to you?" 
 
 " Certainly not, except as an old friend." 
 
 " Yv^ell, I'll tell you what, George; I'll give you a chance — it 
 isn't every lover would do it, let me tell you; I'll slacken my 
 visits; a.nd I shall be going to London next week, and that 
 will keep us apart for a time. Now, if Jane is as fond of me as 
 my vanity tells me she is, she'll heive nothing to say to you, and 
 that may reconcile you to the loss of her; but if you can win 
 her, you shall wear her! I think that's fair, isn't it?" 
 
 George thought it was heroic, and refused to accept the 
 generous sacrifice; but Edmonstone insisted. In the first place, 
 he was reaUy as sorry and concerned about George as he pro- 
 fessed to be; and in the second, he had so many points of tlie 
 game in his favour, that he did not appear to risk a great deal. 
 He really meant kindly to his friend; but he felt so secure, that 
 his kindness did not cost him nearly as much as George, judging 
 by himself, imagined. George knew that he could not have done 
 such a thing ; he could not have risked the loss of Jane for all 
 the friends in the world; and although, every thing considered, 
 he entertained no hope of success, his gratitude was boundless:
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 49 
 
 insomucli that, in spite of Edmonstone's liaving insisted on the 
 performance of the compact, fulfilling his part of it by relaxing 
 in his attentions, and departing speedily for London, George, 
 betwixt despondence and delicacy towards his benefactor, 
 forbore to make any use of the privilege granted him. But fortune 
 at length took the affair in her own hands, and brought the 
 young people together. By this time, George, who had returned 
 from the north full of health and spirits, had fallen to such a 
 wan and wasted condition, that Jane's heart melted with pity 
 the moment she beheld him ; the more so, that his discontinuing 
 his former attentions, and his agitated manner when they met, 
 revived and confirmed her old persuasion that he loved her. 
 This sympathy softened her manner towards him, and the 
 softened manner gave him courage to pay her a visit. When 
 the ice was thus broken, he went frequently — and, by and by, 
 every day — sitting hours beside her, saying not a word of love, 
 and yet making love all the time in the most eloquent and 
 irresistible manner. Jane understood his sufferings, and com- 
 prehended his silence ; he adored her, but believed her attached 
 to his friend. 
 
 In the mean time, the friend was in London, enjoying all the 
 gaieties of the season, and receiving all those flattering attentions 
 that follow the footsteps of a handsome young man of fortune; 
 it was natm-al, under such circumstances, that he should think 
 less of Jane than he had done in -the country. Perhaps there 
 were moments when the idea that George Lockwood might 
 supersede him was painful ; others, in which it was less so, when 
 visions of beauty, combined with rank, fashion, and fortune, 
 hinted that, even under such a calamity, consolations were to be 
 found. On the whole, in short, he enjoyed his London season 
 very much, in spite of the perilous condition in which he had 
 left his love affaii^s at Marlow. 
 
 At length he returned, and asked George the result of their 
 experiment. 
 
 " 1 have never said a Avord to her that was inconsistent with 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 my duty to yoii," said Lockwood ; '• nevertheless, I won't deny, 
 tliat I think she has read my heart." 
 " But which of us does she like best?" 
 
 " you, no doubt. I believe all she feels for me is pity j at ' 
 least, I have no reason to presume that it is any thing more," 
 answered George, with a heavy sigh ; for Mr. Edmonstone, with 
 the bloom of London fashion upon him, looked so irresistible, 
 that any feeble hopes he had ventured to indulge in his absence, 
 were extinguished by the sight of him. 
 
 But the ardent love evinced by the wan cheeks and wasted 
 figure, had effaced the brilliant image of his confident rival. Jane 
 was of a pitiful disposition, and had vowed to her own heart 
 that George Lockwood should be her husband; and ere long an 
 engagement was formed, to be fulfilled whenever the young man 
 should have the means of maintaining a wife. 
 
 Mr. Edmonstone behaved extremely well on the occasion; 
 probably his wounds did not go much deeper than his vanity, 
 and it was not long before this youthful fancy was forgotten, and 
 he was united to a lady whose condition and fortune were more 
 on an equahty with his o^\^l. 
 
 As might be expected, these circumstances, especially the last, 
 made a considerable difference in the intercourse of the young 
 men ; they were much less together, and gi'adually each fell back 
 into his original position. Mr. Edmonstone was very friendly 
 with George when he met him ; and George, as he had told his 
 benefactor on the day Jane accepted him, was his sworn slave 
 for ever ; but they were on different rounds of the ladder of hfe, 
 and henceforth learned to address each other from above and 
 below, accordingly. 
 
 Besides this natural consequence of their changed situations, an 
 alteration occurred in Mr Edmonstone's character and habits; 
 or, rather, time and years had developed his inborn jDropensities, 
 and brought them to the surface. He did not hke the indolent, 
 easy life of a country gentleman ; his taste led him rather to in- 
 habit cities, and take a more active share in business than liis
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 51 
 
 father had done ; and in accordance with these wishes, on the 
 death of one of the principal dii'ectors of the bank, in which he 
 was so large a shareholder, he came forward, and was appointed to 
 fill the vacant place. Not long afterwards, he had an oppor- 
 tunity, which he gladly seized, of offering a situation to his old 
 friend, for which George's commercial education, integrity, and 
 talents, well fitted him; a favour which was exceedingly accept- 
 able, as it rendered him independent of a somewhat despotic 
 father, and enabled him to marry his beloved Jane. From that 
 period to the present, an uninterrupted series of good understand- 
 ing and prosperity had attended both the patron and the client. 
 Mr. Edmonstone had increased in wealth and honours; whilst 
 Lockwood, without either one or the other, was one of the hap- 
 piest husbands and fathers in the W3rld. Jane had turned out 
 all she had promised, a faithful, affectionate wife ; and so fond of 
 her husband, and so contented with her condition, that she never 
 once, in all the years that had elapsed, had felt a grain of envy, 
 when she saw the lady of Marlow, with two footmen behind the 
 carriage, going to St. James's; or read, in the Morning Post, an 
 account of Mi-s. Edmonstone's dress and diamonds at the last 
 Bal Costume. Then came the little gii'l, to add to their felicity ; 
 inheriting all her parents' good qualities, together with some more 
 remarkable endowments of her own : George Lockwood's cup of 
 happiness was full to the brim ; and he owed all this to his early 
 friend and benefactor, Gervase Edmonstone. The child was named 
 after the heroine of a romance that had kindled Mrs. Lockwood's 
 imagination ; but L^onie soon resolved itself into Linny, in fami- 
 liar intercourse. 
 
 Mr. Edmonstone's prosperity was of a different kind, it was 
 more external and material than his friend's — not but his wife 
 was a good woman, as women go ; neither was there any defi- 
 ciency of attachment betwixt them ; but they both lived more for 
 the world than each other. They both liked pomp and state, 
 and were eager for money, without which these things were not 
 to be enjoyed; and money they had in considerable quantities —
 
 52 LI^^NY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 but, of course, not enough. Nobody has, who lives for the 
 world ; for the world has greedy eyes, and a large mouth ; and 
 it is quite impossible to satisfy it if once you begin to try. If 
 you never try, and can make up your mind to take no notice of 
 it, it will leave you alone, and not care. Still Mr. Edmonstone's 
 prosperity was remarkable ; for, if he had not as much money as 
 he wanted, he had a gi'eat deal more than most people, besides 
 many other sources of happiness : amongst the rest, a son, of 
 whom he was extremely proud, and naturally — for Yaughan 
 Edmonstone was a very fine, sharp, high-spirited boy — who had 
 only one fault in his father's eyes ; and that was, that instead of 
 taking to business, he insisted on going into a cavalry regiment. 
 It was not the expense, nor the position, that his father objected 
 to, but the folly of following a profession which cost more money 
 than it brought ; for the longer Gervase Edmonstone lived, the 
 more he loved money. 
 
 As George Lockwood became known, he won the esteem and 
 confidence of all the principals of the firm ; and as he rose from 
 grade to grade, his salary was increased, till he was exceedingly 
 comfortable, and could even lay by something towards Leonie's 
 future dower. Added to this, modest and retii'ing as he was, 
 certain attentions were paid him, in compliment to his merit, 
 whilst liLs patron extended his civility so far as to invite him, 
 and his wife and daughter, to spend a foi tnight at Marlow every 
 summer. Jane declined ; she, with her humble household cares, 
 had fallen into another way of life, and would have felt herself 
 out of place at the aristocratic table,. with half a dozen footmen 
 observing how she ate her dinner. Besides, she had no dresses 
 fit for such company ; but Lockwood went, out of love for his 
 patron ; and, as soon as she was old enough, Leonie was eager 
 to go too. White muslin, and a few yards of pink and blue 
 ribbon, are all that youth and beauty require for any society, 
 and these, being easily compassed, Leonie was duly fitted out ; 
 and with her bright brown hair, soft satin skin, all lilies 
 and roses, and just such another pair of large blue eyes as had
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 53 
 
 once won the heart of Gervase Edmonstone, she made her debut 
 amongst the fine ladies at Marlow; and was, by universal admis- 
 sion of the gentl#men, pronounced the chiefest jewel of them all. 
 Amongst those who were of that opinion, ^here was not one 
 more clear in it than Vaughan Edmonstone. They were both 
 very young, but at the very first visit his fate was decided. 
 At the second, he declared his love one day, when by chance 
 they met in the garden, and a bee stung her as she was taking 
 a peach from the wall. Here was a pretty opportunity; and 
 the pain of the sting was soon forgotten in the pleasure of the 
 declaration. But Yaughan had been to Eton, and was a cornet 
 of dragoons, and he knew the world and his father well enough 
 to \te aware, that a premature disclosure of their love would 
 be fatal to their wishes; and so he told Leonie, who was easily 
 made to understand that they must wait the unfolding of time. 
 She had no fear of her own parents ; but she apprehended that, 
 instead of encouraging the attachment, they would feel it their 
 duty to disclose it to Mr. Edmonstone; so the young lovers kept 
 their own counsel, and loved on in secret. 
 
 Having given this sketch of preceding events, I resume the 
 tbread of our story.
 
 54 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 It was scarcely light when Mr. Edmonstone's servants were 
 awakened by an unusual ringing of the door bell, which they 
 could in no way account for, except by supposing there was a fire 
 in the neighbourhood. But for this persuasion they would have 
 allowed the untimely applicant to ring a little longer; as it was, 
 some of them got out of bed, and threw up their windows, in- 
 quiring who was there, and what was the matter. 
 
 There was a coach at the door, out of which stepped a lady, 
 who answered, that she wanted to see Mr. Edmonstone imme- 
 diately. 
 
 "Master's not up; nor won't be these three hours," 
 
 " I know that very well ; but you must call him : go and tell 
 him it's Mrs. Lockwood wishes to see liim directly on particular 
 business." 
 
 "Master won't like to be disturbed, ma'am; you'd better call 
 again between ten and eleven." 
 
 " I can't wait till then. Tell Mr. Edmonstone that Mr. Lock- 
 wood is missing, and I am very much alarmed. He has not been 
 home all night." 
 
 The footman did not see any thing sufficiently alarming in that 
 circumstance to justify his being called out of bed at this unseason- 
 able hour; but he knew that Mr. Lockwood held a responsible 
 situation in the banking-house, and that he was often closeted 
 with his master, who might, therefore, take a greater interest in 
 his disappearance than he, Thomas Sykes, could by any possibility 
 feel; so, inserting his feet into a pair of shoes and stockings, and
 
 LINT^T LOCKWOOD. 55 
 
 slipping on liis coat and continuations, he descended the stairs 
 to Mr. Edmonstone's room, and knocked at the door. 
 
 "Who^s there? What do you want?" inquired that gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Mrs. Lockwood's at the door, sir ^ 
 
 " ]\Ir. Lockwood ! Tell liim I'll be down directly ; shew him 
 into the library," said Mr, Edmonstone, putting his head out. 
 
 " It's not Mr. Lockwood ; it's Mrs. Lockwood, sir. She says 
 Mr. Lockwood has been missing since last night, and she's very 
 much alarmed about it'* 
 
 "Missing?" 
 
 "Yes, sir: so she says.'* 
 
 "Didn't he go home when the bank closed?** 
 
 "No, sir: I suppose not." 
 
 " Tell Mrs. Lockwood, Fra very sorry, but I dare say he'll 
 come home shortly. Say that he left Fleet-street as usual, and 
 that I've heard nothing of him since. Here, Thomas!" he 
 added, as the man was going away ; " say that FU make 
 inquiries, and if I hear any thing, I'll let her know imme- 
 diately." 
 
 Thomas delivered the message, and the anxious wife di'ove 
 from the door, disappointed at meeting with no more symj)athy, 
 whilst Mr. Edmonstone and Thomas returned to their beds again ; 
 the former, however, with mixed feelings, that partook both of 
 grief and gladness. He was afraid some misfortune had happened 
 to his old friend ; he knew the regularity of his habits, and he 
 had more I'eason than Mrs. Lockwood had to apprehend mis- 
 chief; assuredly it was no convivial party that detained George 
 that night. He suspected, in shoii;, that under the pressure of 
 the distress in wliieh he had left him, when they parted the day 
 before, the poor fellow had indeed made away with himself; and 
 he was not so forgetful of their jiast friendship as to be utterly 
 indifferent to such a tragical termination of that harmless life. 
 No ; a pang shot through his heart as he thought of their boyish 
 days, and of poor Lockwood's gratitude and devoted attachment.
 
 56 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 But, on the other hand, was it not all for the best? Had not the 
 l)oor clerk done the wisest thing? — the wisest for himself and for 
 others? Mr. Edmonstone believed he had; and so, whilst Thomas 
 Sykes was endeavouring to take up the tliread of his slumbers, 
 which had been untimely broken, and whilst Mrs, Lockwood 
 drove from one police station to another, to give notice of her 
 husband's absence from home all night — a thing which she 
 assured the officers had not once occurred in the whole experience 
 of her married life — the banker, to whose eyes sleep had for some 
 time been but a chary visiter, lay alternately betwixt moments 
 of temporary oblivion and sudden starts of wakefuhiesS;, which 
 seemed as if he was roused by a voice whispering in his ear, 
 "George Lock wood's dead;" so simultaneous was the recollection 
 with the awakening. 
 
 In the mean time, an early costermonger, who was proceeding 
 down Dane's-lane with his donkey, had discovered Mr. Lockwood 
 sitting in the ditch where the robber had left him ; and having 
 given notice to the nearest public-house, several persons, urged 
 by benevolence or cuiiosity, went to the spot, and amongst them 
 somebody who recognised " the unfortunate gentleman," as the 
 newspapers designated him, when they recorded the circumstance 
 of his being found in such a lamentable condition ; a catastroj)he 
 which, they hinted, was supposed to be connected with some 
 painful disclosures which had unexpectedly been brought before 
 
 the directors of the Bank ; although his being without his 
 
 coat or waistcoat, and neither watch nor purse found about him, 
 seemed rather to indicate that an assaailt and robbery had been 
 committed. 
 
 In the mean time, the early omnibus that carried professional 
 men from their homes to their offices, conveyed this sad news 
 on its way to Fleet-street ; and Tigg^s, busy and inq.uisitive, with 
 his ears wide open, arrived at nine full of it 
 
 "Dead:" exclaimed Morland. 
 
 " Or next thing to it," returned Tiggs. " He ean'^t recover, 
 and has not spoken since they brought him home.**
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 57 
 
 " Good God ! Poor Lockwood ! who would liave tliouglit of 
 such a thing this time yesterday! How did he do it?" 
 
 " I coukln't learn, exactly/' answered Tiggs. " He was found 
 early in the morning, in a place called Dane's-lane, close to his 
 own house, by a fellow with a donkey, who gave the alarm. 
 But the strangest thing is, that he was j^artly undressed; he 
 had taken off his coat and waistcoat." 
 
 " That looks as if he meant to drown himself," said Morland ; 
 " perhaps there's a pond somewdiere in the neighbourhood. Poor 
 fellow!" 
 
 " It's the best thing he could do, / think," said Tiggs. " He 
 could never have held up his head again." 
 
 " Well, I'm very sorry for him, for one ! There was no man 
 I liked better than poor George Lockwood." 
 
 " I wonder how Edmonstone will take it ! " 
 
 '• Be very sorry, I should think. They've known each other 
 since they were boys." 
 
 " I wonder if Mr. Eardley has heard of it?" said Tiggs. "I 
 think I'll just go and mention it." 
 
 Mr. Eardley had not heard of it, and his surprise was con- 
 siderable when he did. 
 
 " Made away wHli himself, has he?" 
 
 "So it appears, sir. I passed him at the door, as he went 
 away yesterday afternoon, between four and five ; but it seems 
 he never went home, though he was found in a lane close to 
 where he lived." 
 
 " Is Mr. Edmonstone come?" 
 
 " No, sir ; he's not here yet." 
 
 " When he comes, tell him I wish to speak to him." 
 
 But Mr. Edmonstone did not make his appearance in Fleet- 
 street that day. He sent a line to Mr. Eardley, saying that he 
 was so much shocked at this terrible ending of poor Lockwood, 
 that it had quite unmanned him. 
 
 '•' Perhaps it's the best thing he could do, under the circum- 
 stances," he added; " but 'I have known him ever since I was a
 
 58 
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 boy, and there are certain recollections that stick to one all one's 
 Ufe" 
 
 But whilst his friends were thus prematurely lamenting his 
 death, George Lockwood, who had been found by his wife, on 
 her return home, stretched on the bed in a state of unconscious- 
 ness, was slowly reviving. The blow on his head had been a heavy 
 one, and for some weeks he was exceedingly ill, and unable to give 
 any account of the circumstances that had reduced him to that 
 condition; but in process of time, with the constant care and 
 attention of his wife and daughter, he recovered, at least in a 
 great degree ; for it was remarked by every body that he was 
 never the same man afterwards, either physically or morally. 
 His memory was not so good as it had been, and he was more 
 feeble both in body and mind. 
 
 In spite of the disgrace he had fallen into in Fleet-street, 
 Lockwood's present melancholy situation excited universal 
 compassion throughout that establishment, in which, till the 
 day before, he had been so much respected. His fellow clerks 
 all called at the door to inquire for him; Mr. Eardley, stern 
 man of business as he was, sent his footman twice on the same 
 errand; Mr. Edmonstone's dark-green chariot several times 
 excited the admiration of the neighbourhood ; and Y aughan, his 
 handsome son, was almost daily seen curveting in front of the 
 modest little villa on his prancing steed. He generally arrived 
 betwixt two and three o'clock, and about that hour a lovely 
 young head, with neatly braided hair, would be often seen at 
 the window. "I ani certain," said Miss Fowndes, who lived 
 next door, "that she is always watching for him. I wonder 
 how her mother can let her go on so ! I'm sure he has been in 
 ^n hour ! It was just half-past two by our clock when he came, 
 and it's nearly the half-hour past three now. That poor groom 
 looks quite tired of walking the horses up and down ! " 
 
 Perhaps he was ; but the hour passed very fleetly with the 
 young people within, who spent it alone in the dining-parlour, 
 whilst Mrs. Lockwood was sitting by her husband's bedside.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 59 
 
 Had George himself been below, he would have considered the 
 encouraging such visits a violation of his faith to Mr. Edmonstone, 
 who had a right to seek a wife for his son of a much higher caste 
 than the poor clerk's daughter; but beyond the fact that all his 
 friends, " Mr. Eardley, and Mr. Edmonstone, and Mr. Vaughan, 
 and all," came to inquire for him, he knew nothing of what was 
 going on. Mrs. Lockwood was not so unobservant ; she was not 
 altogether ignorant of the attachment that existed betwixt her 
 daughter and Mr. Edmonstone's son, but, more sympathetic and 
 less severe, she did not interfere to repress it; for, in the first 
 place, where could he find a bride so worthy of him as Leonie 1 
 so beautifiil ! so accomplished ! so fitted to adorn a high station ! 
 and, in the second, why should she discourage a connection 
 betwixt two young people whose parents had nearly been 
 husband and wife? Had not Mr. Edmonstone been in love with 
 her? Might she not have been a fine lady, living in Grosvenor- 
 street, and driving her cai'riage, and going to court, if she had 
 liked? and yet, what was she in her best days compared to 
 Leonie? She had never been half as handsome; and as for 
 accomplishments, she had none at all, yet Mr. Edmonstone had 
 thought her worthy to be his wife ; how much more would he 
 think her daughter worthy to be the bride of his son ! Such 
 were Mrs. Lockwood's reflections; wherein it will be perceived 
 that the logic was good, but the argument bad. On these 
 premises, however, she acted; and the consequence was, that 
 the young lovers were as happy as any lovers in Great Britain, 
 and that their attachment grew in strength, from day to day ; 
 whilst the father, up-stairs in his bedroom, was slowly recover- 
 ing from the efifects of his unfortunate rencontre; and Miss 
 Fowndes, growing more and more incensed at the shamelessness 
 of Miss Lockwood's proceedings, in daring to captivate and receive 
 the visits of such a handsome, aristocratic-looking lover, who, 
 she began to apprehend, might actually be foolish enough to 
 marry her; and, as she had taken measures to discover who he 
 was, she declared she felt for his parents, who, she was sure,
 
 60 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 miist be ignorant of what was going on; at the same time 
 expressing a doubt how far it might be her duty to apprise 
 them of it. 
 
 And, certainly, in her conjecture respecting the ignorance of 
 the parents, Miss Fowndes was quite correct. Mr. Edmonstone 
 thought little about L6onie, one way or the other ; she was very 
 young ; and, having seen her and his son very little together, the 
 suspicion of an attachment betwixt them had not occurred to 
 him. They had never met, as far as he knew, except on the 
 occasion of those short annual visits to Marlow, when there was 
 wont to be a bevy of London fashionables in gauzes and jewels, 
 that he would have fancied much more to the young comet's taste 
 than the simple little Leonie, in her white book-muslin frock. 
 He forgot how, long years ago, he himself would have gladly 
 married the obscure agent's daughter, blue-eyed Jane Wedge- 
 wood — and would have preferred her to all the fine ladies of St. 
 James's ; and Yaughan, who, as I have intimated, was already a 
 man of the world, knew how to play his part so well, that, whilst 
 he was making desperate love to Leonie, he appeared to be flirt- 
 ing with every body hut her, and especially with Catherine 
 Eardley, to whom his attentions were only too welcome. Mr. 
 Edmonstone, who had grown now to be an ambitious, avaricious 
 man, thought his son might do worse than marry Catherine, 
 whose expectations were so good; still, he fancied Yaughan 
 might look higher; he might aspire to rank as well as money, 
 and therefore, not eager for the connexion, he at present left the 
 young man free to sport amongst the flowers as he pleased : where 
 there were so many, he did not think he was likely to fix in a 
 hurry, and his son encouraged him in this opinion, because it 
 left him at liberty to play his own game, for he was really in 
 love with Lockwood's daughter, and determined to marry her; 
 but he did not want to ofiend his father, or forfeit any of the 
 advantages of his position, present or future. How the thing 
 was to be done — how he was to have his will both ways — was not 
 at present clear. A secret man-iage appeared the most feasible
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 61 
 
 project; but lie liad not money enough to keep an establisliment 
 for his wife. His father made him a handsome allowance, but 
 then his owti expenses were great ; inevitably so, as it appeared 
 to him. He must keep up with the other fellows of his regi- 
 ment. He must have horses, and dogs, and drags, and a variety 
 of other tilings, indispensable to the character of a gentleman. 
 Money, therefore, was the obstacle, but for which he would have 
 proposed a secret imion to Leonie at once ; and, such was his 
 influence over her, that he did not doubt he should prevail. 
 Perhaps, however, something might happen to facilitate his pro- 
 ject. His father might die. His grandfather had died much at 
 the age Mr. Edmonstone had now reached ; to be sure it was by 
 an accident, but people do meet with accidents; besides, al- 
 though Mr. Edmonstone was apparently a very healthy man, it 
 is often remarked that, whilst ailing people hang on for years, 
 the healthy drop off when least expected.
 
 62 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTEH VIII. 
 
 When George Lockwood quitted the bank on that fatal day 
 which, by a strange combination of circiimstances, had suddenly 
 hurled him down from prosperity to adversity, plunged him 
 into sickness and suffering, blasted his reputation, and taken 
 away his means of living, he had made up his mind, as far as his 
 distress and amazement permitted him to review his position, to 
 quit London immediately, and hide himself and his misery in 
 some remote part of the countiy, where he should have no chance 
 of being recognized, or of being called upon for explanations 
 which he could not give. How to break the calamity to his 
 wife and daughter, or how to account to them for so unexpected 
 a reverse of fortune, without accusing liimself, he could not tell. 
 All he could do was, to throw himself on their generosity, and 
 rely on their faith and affection. Come what might, however, 
 there must be no delay; almost morbidly sensitive as he was by 
 nature, to remain henceforth under the eye of his former ac- 
 quaintance, the object of curiosity, the mark of contumely, would 
 be unbearable. He must go far away, and go at once. But the 
 severe illness he underwent, in consequence of the assault and 
 the night's exposure — an illness that reduced him to the brink of 
 the grave — produced a revolution in his feelings and temper; 
 the former were numbed, the latter was humbled. The physical 
 depression depressed his pride and his spirit. When he was so 
 far recovered as to recollect all that had happened, he felt miser- 
 able enough; but it was not the qaick and biting anguish he 
 had felt when the blow first fell : it was rather the tempered 
 and subdued gi'ief of an old sorrow, a settled melancholy, that
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 63 
 
 robbed him of all energy, and disposed him to sufferance and 
 inaction. When he was able to leave his bed, he sat in his cham- 
 ber by the fireside, staring unconsciously into the grate, seldom 
 speaking, and not caring to be spoken to. As he got better, 
 the sight of his wife and daughter, especially the latter, ap- 
 peared rather to give him pain than otherwise. The doctor 
 sent him drops to take, and said he wanted change of scene, and 
 should go from home a little, but he only shook his head at the 
 recommendation; and, when any of his neighbours sent him a 
 newspaper to amuse him, he turned away his head from it with 
 aversion. And yet, before his misfortune, he would as soon have 
 gone without his dinner, as neglected to look at the state of the 
 money market and the price of stock. But what had he to do 
 with these^ things now ? His connection with the past was broken 
 off, and he shunned every thing that renewed the memory of 
 his lost happiness, " Les souvenirs du honheur passe sont les rides 
 de Came.'" 
 
 His wife, who attributed the state in which she saw him 
 wholly to nervous depression, for she was ignorant that he had 
 any substantial cause of grief, said and did all she could to rouse 
 him; representing the fatal consequences that would ensue to 
 himself, and his family, if he did not make some exertion to 
 rouse himself; but he listened to her with a countenance of 
 settled despair, and only seemed excited for a moment when she 
 told him that the quarter's salaiy had been sent. 
 " Is it?" he said. " Who sent it?" 
 
 " I don't know. Mr. Edmonstone, I suppose. It came from 
 the bank. Mr. Morland brought it. They've paid it this 
 quarter because you were sick, no doubt ; but that can't go on, 
 you know, if you don't rouse yourself, and attend to your business, 
 I'm sui-e it's lucky it came to pay the doctor's bill. It really 
 vexes me, George, to see you sit there, not trying to help your- 
 self Here, do take your drops; though I don't think they do 
 you a bit of good ! " 
 
 No; they could not cure the hm-t mind — the broken heart!
 
 64 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Whilst Lockwood was lying on his sickbed, or crouching like 
 a wounded animal by his fireside, Mr. and Mrs. Edmonstone were 
 entertaining a fashionable Christmas party at Marlow; and 
 Vaughan was dividing his time betwixt his father's festivities on 
 the one hand, and making love, in Leonie's little parlour, on the 
 other. The scenes were strongly contrasted, but he enjoyed them 
 both the more ; for though he was thoroughly attached to Leonie, 
 he was not the less fond of the pleasures and vanities of the 
 world, nor had he any intention of sacrificing them to his love. He 
 wished to reconcile and amalgamate these two opposite elements 
 in his life, and by caution, and a little patience, he expected to 
 effect his purpose. The difficulty was how to deal with his 
 father, who, he knew, would be furiously displeased at such an 
 engagement ; and probably testify his disapprobation by imme- 
 diately withdrawing his allowance, as the most likely means of 
 bringing him to his senses. This inconvenience must be 
 avoided. With respect to the world of taste and fashion, with 
 which he intended also to keep upon the best terms, he believed 
 that, as he was his father's sole heir, his wealth and personal 
 qualifications, conjoined with Leonie's beauty and accomplish- 
 ments, would be sufficient to excuse, and indeed justify, his 
 marrying a woman of low condition. He was sure all the men 
 would be on his side ; for already, on her annual visits to Mar- 
 low, more than one young aristocrat had vowed she was the 
 loveliest creature he ever saw. Sir Bryan 0' Grady swore, that 
 if he had five hundred a year he could call his own, he would 
 marry her, and be contented for the rest of his life with a cot- 
 tage and love ; and Lord Derwent actually made advances, and 
 would, beyond a doubt, have laid himself and his title at her 
 feet, had not Vaughan warned him secretly that he was poach- 
 ing on another man's manor. 
 
 " She's been engaged to me ever since she was sixteen," he said. 
 
 " By Jove, then, I must draw off"," said Derwent ; " but 
 yoa're a lucky fellow, Edmonstone, and it's well you've warned 
 lUd before I was deeper in the mess than I am ! But you're a
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. Go 
 
 devil of a Lothario! I tliouglit Miss Eardley was the object of 
 your devotions ! " 
 
 " I like Catherine Eardley very well," responded Yaughan ; 
 " she and I are old friends, and we have always a little bit of a 
 flirtation when we come together; but we perfectly understand 
 each other: there's nothing more than that between us." 
 
 In this instance, however, Mr. Vaughan Edmonstone was not 
 speaking correctly. Selfish as men — v/ith very fevv^ exceptions— 
 always are, he knev/ that it was agreeable to him to talk and 
 dance with the fair Catherine, by whom he found himself always 
 graciously received; but as he did not wish her precisely to fall 
 in love, but only to admire him, and j)erliaps indulge some secret 
 and flattering desire on the subject — ^just as people, who have no 
 chance of ever getting such a thing, permit themselves to image 
 the delights of ten thousand a year, upon the principle that 
 " there is no harm in wishing;" so he did not take the trouble to 
 reflect that her feelings might possibly become more deeply in- 
 volved than his own, and that he might end by making her 
 very unhappy ; the more especially as, having never seen Leonie 
 Lockw^ood, or heard more than that one of the bank clerks had 
 a very pretty daughter, there was no one whom she had any 
 reason to suspect he liked better than herself. And the fact was, 
 that Catherine Eardley was very much in love with him, an<l 
 only restrained from exliibiting her preference more openly by 
 his, to her, unaccountable silence. Thrown much together, from 
 an early period, in consequence of the business connection between 
 their fathers, there was an easy famiharity in their mode of 
 intercourse, that was likely enough to result in a disappointment, 
 on one side or the other. Not of a difiident disposition, and 
 seeing nobody to whom he paid so much attention as herself^ it 
 vras natural enough she should attribute to him corresponding 
 sentiments ; and indeed, but for the singular fascinations of Leonie 
 Lockwood, nothing is more likely than that Catherine Eardley 
 would have been the successful candidate for a heart v.diich they 
 both estimated far above its price. 
 
 F
 
 66 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Marlow was at no great distance from London ; and whilst Mr. 
 Edmonstone had occasion to be constantly running up to town 
 on business, Yaughan, who had lately exchanged into the Guards, 
 made his duty the excuse for doing the same thing. Then, when 
 he had had a little course of love-making in Prospect-place, and 
 dined at the Cocoa-tree, and lounged into the theatres, and so 
 forth, he drove down again with his father to the country, and 
 danced and flirted a little with Catherine. 
 
 Young people, engaged by love and pleasure, are generally little- 
 observant, and take very small part in the troubles and anxieties of 
 their elders; and although Yaughan was weekly boxed up in a 
 post-chariot with his father for a couple of hours or so, it had 
 never occurred to him that there was any thing in Mr. Edmon- 
 stone's demeanour different to what it usually was. Nevertheless, 
 his wife, and not only she, but several members of the society of 
 Marlow, were puzzling themselves to find out the cause of their 
 host's unaccustomed silence, and of the gloom and depression that 
 sat upon his brow. Mrs. Edmonstone, of course, kept her observa- 
 tions to herself; and, since asking questions of vexed men is apt to 
 elicit sharp answers, she made no remarks even to her husband : 
 but the visiters, with less delicacy, discussed the subject freely. 
 " Something amiss in Fleet-street, I suppose?" 
 " There was something came out lately about one of the prin- 
 cipal clerks, who is reported to have made away with large sums 
 of money, and, when he was found out, committed suicide. Perhaps 
 it's connected with that." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder ; for I believe the man was some humble 
 relation or dependent of Mr, E.'s, and that he became voucher for 
 him; so, perhaps, he may have to pay the money. Do you ob- 
 serve how Mrs. E. often watches her husband ? I suspect she sees 
 there's something wrong, and is not in the secret." 
 
 " Yaughan doesn't seem to be very uneasy about the matter, 
 whatever it is," 
 
 • " Oh ! his head's full of love, and the charms of Catherine 
 Eurdley."
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 67 
 
 " Lucky dog ! He can't do better. She'll have all old Feather- 
 stone's money, besides what she gets from her father." 
 
 The clerks at the bank, too, remarked the gloom of Mr. 
 Edmoustone's countenance, and attributed it to his vexation 
 about Lockwood's affair. It was true the money had been made 
 good, but it was Mr, E. was the sufferer; for restoration having 
 been made by Mr. Eardley, the inexorable condition of mercy — 
 that is, of forbearance from prosecution — Mr. Edmonstone had, 
 for the sake of old fiiendship it was understood, become responsible 
 for the sum, which he had to pay out of his private fortune ; an 
 action so generous that it filled the whole establishment with 
 admiration, except perhaps Mr. Eardley, who appeared less 
 impressed by it than others. 
 
 As for Vaughan, he was not in the secret of these matters; he 
 knew that Leouie's father was in disgrace, but he knew none of 
 the particulars of the disagreement, and, whatever the faults of 
 the father might be, the daughter was not responsible for them ; 
 and as Leonie was equally ignorant on the subject, it caused them 
 no disturbance, till one day, in answer to his wife's objurgations 
 with respect to liis not trying to rouse himself and return to his 
 business, George astonished her by saj-ing, that he was not going 
 to return to his business at all — that there was a split betwixt 
 him and Messrs. E., and that, as soon as he was able, he must 
 look for something else to do. 
 
 At first she would not believe him ; she thought he was under 
 a delusion, or thnt he had foolishly " taken the huff, and was 
 quaiTelling with his bread and butter," as she said ; but when he 
 had conduced her that the connection with Edmonstone and 
 Eardley was broken off, and tliat at his time of life, with broken 
 health and spirits, he had to look for a new situation, she fell into 
 a passion of tears and lamentations; for what was to become of 
 them? and especially what was to become of Linny ? — their beauti- 
 ful, beloved Linny — she, for whom they had built such castles in 
 the air 1 who was to be a lady, and ride in her carriage, and perhaps 
 go to court with two footmen behind her, as she, Jane Wedge^vood,,
 
 68 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 might liave done^if slie had taken Gervase Edmonstone at his word, 
 and married him. Even George, the steady man of figures, with 
 his head given up to debtor and creditor accounts all day, had had 
 his bit of romance about Leonie, never indulged, however, till after 
 five o'clock, when the bank closed. 
 
 But in the evening, when the dinner was over, and she had 
 left the table, and they two sat together over their little drop of 
 something comfortable, whilst the sound of the sweet voice sing- 
 ing to the pianoforte above, penetrated the flimsy floors of No. 3, 
 Prosj)ect-place, j)erhaps George saw visions of grandeur too, at all 
 events he listened, not incredulous, to those his wife delighted 
 to conjure. But, alas ! the hopes of the future faded before the 
 stern realities of the present; and Leonie's fortunes, immediate 
 and prospective, must fall with her father's. 
 
 The distress of the mother soon betrayed the secret to the 
 daughter; when Jane flung her arms about the girl's neck, and 
 wept and sobbed, Leonie learned that her father had been discard- 
 ed, and that they must begin the world anew ; and what was her 
 first thought under this heavy calamity? " I wonder if Yaughan 
 knows it ! He must ; and, if so, how generous of him to act as 
 he is doing! It is the knowledge of our misfortunes that brings 
 him here so often. In our prosperous days he never attempted 
 to visit me. How generous ! how noble ! and never even to hint 
 to me that any thing unpleasant had occurred ! How can I love 
 him enough? Oh! if he should ever fall into misfortune — if 
 adversity should overtake him — but it can't ; he's too high and 
 secure for calamity to reach him— but if it could be so, what 
 devotion I'd shew him ! How I'd tend him in sickness, and toil 
 for him in poverty, and stand betwixt him and the world's scorn ; 
 for the world always scorns the unfortunate ! Dear, darling, 
 noble, beautiful Vaughan ! He should see how I love him then ! " 
 And she almost wished for the adversity, that she might have 
 the opportunity of proving her affection. 
 
 It was quite true that Yaughan Edmou stone had never visited 
 Leonie in Prospect-place before, and that he was doing so assiduous-
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 69 
 
 ly now ; but the reason was not exactly what she imagined : the 
 truth being, that his fear of Lockwood's strict integrity, and sense 
 of duty to Mr. Edmonstone, had deterred him from attempting 
 it earlier. He did not doubt that the honest clerk would warn 
 him off, and acquaint the father of his son's desire to form an 
 enarasfement inconsistent with his station and fortune. But the 
 assault and subsequent illness having given him a reasonable 
 excuse for calling, and George being out of the way, he retained 
 his privilege, and held fast the footing he had won ; such inter- 
 views being much more gratifying than the stolen meetings with 
 which the lovers had hitherto been obliged to content themselves. 
 
 "Don't weep! don't take it so much to heart, dear mama ! '' 
 Leonie said, when she heard the ill news. "Kely on it, we 
 shall yet do very well." For how was it possible for her to feel 
 unhappy at any thing that could happen, when Vaughan 
 Edmonstone was giving her such signal proofs of his affection '? 
 IS'o ! she was invulnerable at all points but one ; the spites of 
 fortune could not harm her. 
 
 ''But, Linny, do well! How do u-ell? How can you talk so, 
 child? You see what a state your father's in; and, do and say 
 what I will, I can't rouse him from it. How are we to do 
 well, or do at all, if he can't get a situation 1 And how's he to 
 get one, or keep it when he has got it, if he continues in this 
 way ? " 
 
 "But he won't continue in this way, dear mama ! Of course, 
 he must take some time to recover his energies and recruit his 
 strength ; but you'll see he'll be as well as ever, by and by." 
 
 "I doubt it, Linny; I don't believe your father '11 ever he 
 himself again. But suppose he should recover in the course of 
 time, how difficult it may be to get a situation ! And how are 
 we to live in the meanwhile ? " 
 
 This last was a difficulty that had neve r occurred to Leonie, 
 who, although the daughter of a humble clerk, had hitherto been 
 Petted and indulged to the utmost, ha ving all her simple desires 
 i^ratified, without occasion to think of money or to kain its value.
 
 70 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 The only inclulgeuce she had asked foi', was to be allowed in- 
 structors, and, as the request pleased and flattered her parents, 
 they had stretched their means to gratify her. She had been 
 fed and clothed like the lilies; she had neither toiled nor spun; 
 nor, whilst she was singing in the drawing-room, and her father 
 was standing at a desk in Fleet-street, with a pen behind his ear, 
 and her mother was mending his stockings in the parlour, had she 
 ever been called upon to consider the difficulty many people have 
 in obtaining food and raiment. When the idea was for the first 
 time presented to her now, she was struck with it as something 
 new, but by no means terrible or insurmountable. 
 
 "But, mama, even if papa can't get a situation immediately, 
 surely I can do something. I could teach music and singing, or 
 be a governess, or do a great many things. Don't despond, and 
 make yourself unhappy, when I'm sure there's no cause. I dare 
 say, Mrs. Edmonstone would recommend me to somebody to give 
 lessons." And Leonie looked such a contingency joyfully in the 
 face ; for was there not Vaughan's handsome countenance smiling 
 on her beyond 1 But, although Jane did not know the world 
 very well, she knew it better than her daughter did ; and she 
 had not been paying her butcher's and baker's bills for twenty 
 years, without forming some notion of the difficulty there would 
 be in getting along when the quarter's salary did not come in. 
 She had no lover's bright eye to gild poverty and privation for 
 her, and her castles in the air had all tumbled down with her 
 fortunes. 
 
 When Vaughan came the next day, Leonie told him of her 
 intention to give lessons in music and singing ; but he demurred 
 to the plan at once. It was degrading herself; she would 
 become known to a variety of people in that humble capacity, 
 who might recognise her afterwards in society, which would be 
 very unpleasant. Besides, there were other points of view in 
 which he objected to the scheme. She would have to tramp 
 about the town in a manner altogether unbecoming a lady who 
 was to be his wife; and would inevitably be exposed to many
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 71 
 
 insults and perils. As lie justly told her, even if slie could get 
 emjjloymeut, she was a great deal too young and pretty to enter 
 on such a way of life ; for somewhat the same reasons he ob- 
 jected to her being a private governess. She would not have to 
 tramp the streets, indeed, but she might become connected with 
 parties who would be glad enough, when they met her at a 
 drawing-room, to proclaim that Mrs. Yaughan Edmonstone had 
 lived in their family as a governess. ''But what am I to do, 
 dear Yaughan? I must do something to assist papa and mama ?" 
 Yaughan said he'd think of it, and he did think of it, and 
 wished very sincerely that the governor would pop off and leave 
 him master of the field; in which case he would swamp the diffi- 
 culty by marrying Leonie, and settling an annuity on the old 
 codger, her father, with whom, of course, he did not intend to 
 maintain any intercourse; indeed he should make the annuity 
 contingent on their — that is, Lockwood and his wife — retiring 
 into tlie country, far from Grosvenor-street, and far from Mar- 
 low. But in the mean time, since there Jiad been a flare-up 
 between old Lockwood and his father, what was to be done? It 
 was certainly a difficult question, he having a great objection to 
 Leonie's embarking in any thing derogatory; but, on the other 
 hand, he had only between seven and eight hundred a-year for 
 his own personal expenses, and, as he often observed, he was a 
 poor man, and had nothing to spare, else he would not have 
 minded doing something for the old chap himself. Under these 
 circumstances, it appeared inevitable that Leonie must exert 
 herself to aid her parents ; and chancing, as he rode through Ken- 
 sington one day, to see a large house designated as a Ladies' Board- 
 ing School, it occurred to him that she might obtain a situation 
 as teacher in such an establishment — an arrangement from which 
 he anticipated no inconvenience, provided it was not too near 
 London ; for he was aware that the young ladies of his circle 
 were rarely sent to such seminaries, as they are called, and there- 
 fore there was not much danger of subsequent exposure. It is 
 true, tliat this plan involved the necessity of Leonie's leaving
 
 72 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 her home to live under the cold eye and rigid discipline of (pro- 
 hably) a tyrant in petticoats; for, whatever benefit the pupils 
 may derive from a residence at one of these establishments, cer- 
 tain it is, that the influence on those who keep them is decidedly 
 ]u'ejudicial, unless we are to conclude that none but the most 
 unjust, ungenial, disagreeable people in the world consent to 
 board and educate young ladies and gentlemen for sixty pounds 
 ])er annum. Yes, it robbed her of her little home comfoi-ts, and 
 separated her from her loving parents, and them from her, much 
 as they needed the consolation of her presence ;' but it rendered 
 remote tlie chance of any unpleasant recognitions afterwards, 
 and that, as Vaughan observed, was the chief thing to be con- 
 sidered; and so he told Leonie, and, moreover, that he had been 
 looking at the advertisements in The Times, and that there was 
 a teacher wanted at a ladies' school in Battcrsea. It was, 
 })erhaps, rather near London, but it w^as out of the region of 
 fashionable drivers or riders, and she might be there snug 
 enough for a year or two, till things mended, or he could make 
 her his own — a suggestion that brought a bright flush of joy 
 into the fair cheeks. 
 
 There was another disadvantage attending this scheme, which, 
 as it personally concerned himself, might have rendered it dis- 
 tasteful; namely, that it would put a period to those agreeable 
 visits in Prospect-place, which afforded him so much pleasure. 
 This sort of intercourse could not be enjoyed under the roof of 
 a pedagoguess, who would doubtless allow no folloivers. A 
 teacher with a lover would be an unheard-of phenomenon, and 
 a very bad example. It may seem surprising, therefore, that 
 Mr. Vaughan Edmonstone should countenance a plan which 
 would oblige him to forego so dear a privilege; nor v/ould he 
 probably, but for a little circumstance that occurred precisely at 
 this juncture. 
 
 It has been mentioned that he was in the habit of going down 
 in his father's post-chariot once a week or so to the countiy, dur- 
 ing which expeditions the fellow-travellers sat each in his corner,
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 73 
 
 absorbed in bis own meditations, and frequently not exclianging 
 a dozen words betwixt Hyde Park gate, wbicb was then a toll, 
 and the gate of Mario w Lodge; and it has been hinted that, had 
 Mr. Yaughan Edmonstone been less absorbed with his own 
 agreeable cogitations, he might haply have remarked that those 
 of the middle-aged gentleman that sat beside him, wi'apped in furs, 
 with a travelling-cap drawn over his eyes, were of a less cheering 
 nature ; for whilst the son's mind was running upon the charms 
 of Leonie Lockwood, who adored him, and the state of his betting- 
 book for the next Newmarket meeting, and the marked manner 
 in which Cattie Eardley had evinced her jealousy of his atten- 
 tions to the beautifid Lady Marion Bell at Mrs. Heavitree's ball, 
 and the number of points he could afford to give Jack Campbell 
 in the match they were going to make up at billiards, and 
 similar interesting questions; the father was wrestling mentally 
 with several devils that were fiercely tormenting him, and that 
 he was struggling to overcome, and could not ; as, for example, 
 remorse, a very black fiend indeed, and a persevering, that had 
 an extraordinary tenacity of life, and took an immense deal of 
 killing ; for, even when you thought he was stone dead, he would 
 recover all of a sudden and sting you when you least expected ; 
 and fear, a miserable devil, that indeed could not shew much 
 fight, but who was armed with a terrible eye that paralysed who- 
 soever it looked upon ; and avarice^ — but, to say the truth, this 
 combatant had such a winning way with him that resistance 
 seemed folly, and his victims generally preferred capitulating at 
 once. It will thus be perceived that the minds of the travellers, 
 being so diflferently engaged, there was not much between them 
 to provoke conversation; but at length there came a day when 
 the same identical subject engros-ed them both, and this was 
 the very day — or if not the very day, the very week — that L6o7iie 
 had confided to her lover the necessity that existed for some 
 exertions on her part in aid of her parents; and the cause of this 
 consentaneity betwixt the father and son was no other than 
 Miss Arabella Fowndes, whose patience and forbearance being
 
 74 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 utterly exhausted by the repeated provocations she received, had 
 taken measures to relieve the feverish irritation by opening, not 
 a vein, but a correspondence with Mr. Edmonstone, senior; at 
 least she did her part towards it, by despatching a note to him 
 by post, addressed to the bank in Fleet Street, wherein she 
 admonished him that "a friend and welL^isher felt it a duty to 
 warn him of an improper connection in which his son was involv- 
 ing liimself with a young person whose levity shocked the writer; 
 and whom, if his parents did not interfere immediately to 
 separate them, there was great room to apprehend he might 
 marry; the rather, that the family of the young person in ques- 
 tion were evidently in the plot ! 
 
 As nothing but a paramount sense of duty — parmount sense 
 of duty being a phrase Miss Arabella had heard drop from the 
 lips of her resj^ected pastor on the preceding Sunday at church — 
 could have induced the writer to interfere in such a painful and 
 delicate affair, no name or address would be annexed to the 
 billet; but if the parents of the misguided young man desired 
 further information on a subject so vital to his and their future 
 happiness — vide the sermon above mentioned — a line addressed 
 to F. A., care of Miss Jukes, dressmaker. Church-street, Lambeth, 
 would meet with immediate attention. 
 
 Mr. Edmonstone was as much surprised as annoyed on receiv- 
 ing this intimation, especially at the hint about marriage. As 
 he had grown eminently worldly, and long since forgotten the 
 feelings of his own youth, he would at no period have listened 
 with toleration to Yaughan's love passages with Linny Lock- 
 wood, but the objections to an obscure and portionless bride were, 
 from late circumstances, augmented forty-fold ; so that, when he 
 stepped into the carriage with Miss Arabella's epistle in his pocket, 
 it was with a determination to apply the most energetic remedy in 
 his pharmacopoeia to so inconvenient a disease. On the influence 
 of parental authority, or the virtue of filial obedience, he had not 
 much reliance in cases of this description, any more than in the 
 inviolability of promises given a contre coeur; but on his son's
 
 LI^'NY LOCKWOOD. 75 
 
 habit of self-indulgence, and love of spending money, he counted 
 securely. It must be a strong attachment, indeed, that would 
 make Yaughan risk the diminution of his allowance, and he 
 planned his attack accordingly. Of Miss Arabella Fowndes' letter 
 he said nothing; but he broke ground by suddenly asking his son, 
 after a long silence, how he was getting on with Miss Eardley? 
 
 "WithCattie Eardley, sirl" said Yaughan, starting out of a 
 reverie; " I get on very well with her. Why do you ask? " 
 
 " Because I am a good deal concerned in the result, which 
 is perhaps of more importance than you are aware of." 
 
 " What result do you mean, sir?" 
 
 " What result? Why, the success of your suit to be sure." 
 
 " Suit, sir," said Yaughan ; " I am making no suit. I never 
 thought of such a thing." 
 
 "Nonsense, boy! Do you think I'm blind?" 
 
 " Upon my word, sir " 
 
 " Pshaw ! Don't be a fool, Yaughan ! this is no time for fooling, 
 and, I assure you, instead of affecting not to know what I mean, 
 I wish you would press the thing on as fast as you can, and get 
 married. If you don't contrive to get her, or somebody else 
 with a good fortune pretty quickly, you'll have to curtail your 
 expenses in a way you won't like, I can tell you!" 
 
 " I don't understand you, sir," said Yaughan. 
 
 " No, I dare say not ; but you will understand me if I stop your 
 allowance, and you find yourself reduced to live upon your pay ! " 
 
 "No, I shall not, sir; for I can't see what I have done to 
 deserve such a thing." 
 
 " That's not the question; although, if I were to set about it, 
 I might perhaps allege that you have done a great deal to de- 
 serve it. You've certainly been unjustiliably extravagant for 
 one thing; and I've twice had to pay your debts." 
 
 " Not to any large amount, sir; and, with regard to spending 
 money, it is just a question of staying with the regiment or 
 leaving it. If I remain, I must do as other fellows do ; if I can't, 
 I must sell my commission; that's all."
 
 7 b LINXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 '' Well, tlieu, I wish you to understand clearly, that that is an 
 alternative you may shortly be obliged to resort to, unless you 
 can get hold of some woman of fortune, and marry her. Now, 
 i\Iiss Eardley is an only daughter^ and, besides her father's money, 
 she'll have her uncle's, as you are well aware; and, as she is ready 
 to take you, I beg you'll lose no time in clenching the business." 
 
 '• I have no reason to think she's ready to take me, sir. I 
 never said a word to Miss Eardley that she could interpret into 
 a declaration, I assure you, in my life." 
 
 " Then I recommend you to say it as soon as you can." 
 
 "But where's the necessity for all this haste? I don't under- 
 stand what I have done to give rise to a conversation so unex- 
 pected. I am not more extravagant than other fellows of my 
 age and standing, and really lately I have not been spending 
 any inoney at all." 
 
 " Because you had none to spend, I suppose. However, the 
 fact is as I tell you. I've lost a good deal of money lately, and 
 we must retrench somewhere." 
 
 " It's rather hard you should begin with me, I think." 
 
 "Avoid it, then, by following my advice; and don't imagine 
 this is a vain threat, Yaughan : I'm quite serious, I assure you. 
 Besides, a good marriage secures foolish boys like you from mak- 
 ing a bad one, and ruining all their prospects in life for the sake 
 of some Miss Skeggs, that you mistake for an angel in petti- 
 coats." 
 
 This last was an injudicious speech of the banker's, and con- 
 siderably weakened the effect of what had preceded it. Nothing 
 could be so disao-reeable to Yaughan Edmonstone as the diminu- 
 tion of his allowance; and the idea that his fither might really 
 mean what lie said, was just beginning to pervade him with an 
 unpleasant sensation, when that hint about Miss Skeggs came to 
 his relief. He laughed, and turned off the jest by answering, that 
 he believed he was not a very likely man to be caught in such a 
 snare; whilst his apprehensions were dispelled by the persuasion, 
 that his father had somehow or other got an inkling of his visits
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 77 
 
 to Prospect-place, and that this was a cunning scheme to put a 
 stop to them — a proceeding which would have been quite in 
 accordance with his Mr. Edmonstone's character. 
 
 It was this circumstance that had reconciled him to Leonie's 
 removal from home, where, if she had staved, his seeins: her mijrht 
 become difficult; and in the mean time he could amuse his 
 father by paying a little extra attention to Cattie — attention 
 that was only too well received, and that unhappily served to 
 augment an attachment as mi^;2^1aced as it was unfortimate.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Misfortune falls liglitly on young people, for they have a 
 Llessed reserve of hope to sustain them through it. What is the 
 future to them but an illimitable field of hope, wherein they 
 dwell, scarce conscious of the present 1 And herein lies one of the 
 saddest differences betwixt youth and age. As years flow over 
 us, hope, that sweetest sauce to all pleasure, recedes, and leaves 
 us stranded. One of the chief ingredients in the happiness of 
 the young, is the dream that they will be happier still : but 
 there are no such dreams for the old. They know that the pre- 
 sent, the ever unsatisfactory present, is the best that remains foi" 
 them ; that fleeting present, which hourly deteriorates as it flies, 
 and of all the evils which years bring with them, that knowledge 
 is perhaps the worst, however some people, who have little 
 capacity for reflection, may not consciously sufter from it. That 
 they do w?iconsciously sufier from it, is certain ; and it is this that 
 makes old people so often peevish, exigeants, and disagreeable. 
 Every fold in our couch ruffles when we know it will never be 
 smoother. 
 
 Of course, it is only of earthly hopes I speak here. Happy 
 are those who, as they decline in life, can cheerfully and confi- 
 dently direct their views to a future beyond it. 
 
 So Linny Lockwood, being young, and having a lover in whom 
 she founded an immense stock of hope, was not to be made un- 
 happy by the misfortunes that plunged her parents into despair. 
 They had hitherto been a very happy family, living in great 
 love and harmony; George was an indulgent, kind man; and 
 his wife a contented, afiectionate woman, quite able to do the
 
 LIXXY LOCKTVOOD. 79 
 
 duties of her state, which were by no means onerous; but she 
 was not prepared for adversity, and it spoiled her : she could not 
 make head against it, but, like her husband, sank into a sort of 
 helpless despondency, sitting sadly by her fireside, with her 
 hands crossed upon her knees, and measuring time with her 
 sighs. Linny tried to rouse her ; '' Papa would recover himself 
 by and by, and get another situation. Don't be always look- 
 ing at the black side of things. Hope for the best, dear mama." 
 " Ah, Linny ! that's the way young people talk. Hope, 
 indeed ! what have we to hope V 
 
 " A thousand things ; perhaps I may many a rich man, and 
 be able to make you and papa as comfortable as ever you were. 
 More so; for you would come and live with me, of course." Oh 
 innocent Leonie ! 
 
 "Ah, Linny! those are mere castles in the air, I'm afraid," 
 answered Mrs. Lockwood, looking at her daughter with an 
 inquiring eye ; for she thought of Vaughan Edmonstone and 
 his visits, and had been lately feeling some anxiety to learn 
 what they indicated. As long as her husband was dangerously 
 ill, and before she was aware of the split, she had attributed 
 them, in some degree, to the interest entertained for Lockwood 
 by the Edmonstone family ; but their continuance, since George 
 had been in a state of convalescence, had undeceived her. But 
 Leonie was under a promise to Vaughan to keep his secret, and 
 although she would have been glad to share with her mother 
 the consolation that sustained herself, she durst not disobey 
 him ; added to which, the instinctive reliance on Jane's maternal 
 vanity and weakness, which would have emboldened her to 
 impart her secret to her mother, did not extend to her 
 father, who, she agreed with Vaughan, would never countenance 
 the connexion without Mr. Edmonstone's sanction. 
 
 Then Mrs. Lockwood was miserable at the idea of Leonie's 
 going from home; she had always heard that the life of a teacher 
 in a school was the most wretched in the world, and as the time 
 approached for the poor girl's departure, Jane's eyes were
 
 80 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 never diy. Lockwood himself seemed more indifferent ; not 
 that he loved his daughter less, but because he was so broken- 
 hearted already, that he was insensible to the further blows of 
 fortune. At length, however, the afternoon came that the 
 Battersea coach stopt at the door, and Miss Arabella Fowndes, 
 attracted by the sound of the wheels, had the gratification of 
 seeing Miss Lock wood, with her handkerchief in her hand, and 
 her veil down, handed into the vehicle by Hetty, the maid. 
 '■ Look, she's wiping her eyes, I'm certam she's crying ! And see, 
 there's her trunk ; and she's waving her handkerchief up to 
 the window!" 
 
 " I suppose they're sending her out of the way of that young 
 spark that's always coming after her." 
 
 "And high time, too," observed Mrs. Fowndes; and so 
 thought Miss Ai-abella, attributing the removal complacently to 
 her own judicious communication to Mr. Edmonstone. 
 
 As the coach passed the house she was going to, Lconie was 
 set down at an iron gate, through the bars of which appeared a 
 heavy, square, red brick building, across which stretched a black 
 board, with an inscription in large white letters, informing the 
 world that that was Mrs. Barnard's boarding-school. A ring at 
 the bell brought out a severe-looking, elderly footman in a 
 plum-coloured lively, who, without question or comment, 
 lifted her trunks from the ground, and, preceding her into the 
 house, conducted her up-stairs to a room containing eight small 
 white-curtained beds : whence, after divesting herself of her bonnet 
 and shawl, she descended, in compliance with the severe-looking 
 footman's directions, to Mrs. Barnard's parlour, where she found 
 the family taking tea. There were two Mrs. Barnards: Mrs, 
 Ann, a little, sharp-featured woman, mth a voice like a sour 
 apple; and Mrs. Martha, plump, pock-marked, weak, and good- 
 humoured. Besides these ladies, the party consisted of Miss 
 Milly Barnard, a niece of the elder ladies; Ma'm'selle Coulin, 
 the French teacher; and a sallow, dirty-looking man with large 
 yellow teeth, and a very unpleasant, dissatisfied cast of counte-
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 81 
 
 nance, who was stooping over the fire toasting a greasy slice of 
 bread and butter on a fork. Miss Milly, who was a beauty 
 manque — that is, she ought to have been pretty, but somehow or 
 other had missed it — was expatiating with animation, while she 
 poured out the tea, on the gaieties of the vacation that had just 
 expired — gaieties which, being few and rare, were appreciated 
 accordingly; and the pleasures of which were much heightened 
 by the persuasion she entertained of her own successes in 
 society. 
 
 " I'm sure," she said, " if he asked me to dance once, he asked 
 me six or seven times that night; but I was always engaged; 
 and at last I really thought there would have been a quarrel 
 between him and Mr. Davies about who was to have me." 
 Whereupon the gentleman with the bread and butter sniggered, 
 and Mrs. Ann remarked, that Milly always fancied gentlemen 
 were going to quarrel about her, 
 
 "It's fortunate that her apprehensions are never realized," 
 sarcastically observed the gentleman, who was introduced to 
 Linny as the Rev. Mr. Whitelaw. 
 
 The conversation next turned upon the business of the half- 
 year, the pupils that were expected, and the duties of the teachers, 
 the Frenchwoman being admonished on several points of dis- 
 cipline, till the servants were summoned to prayers ; after which, 
 to their great relief, Ma'm'selle Coulin and Leonie were at 
 liberty to retire to the room they were that night to inhabit in 
 common. As Mrs. Ann rose from her knees she called out to 
 Daniel to bring up the hot water and Hollands ; and, whilst the 
 party enjoyed their potations below, Ma'm'selle Coulin gave vent 
 to her feelings above. 
 
 "Ah Dieu! Quels gens! Quelle vie!" she exclaimed, as she 
 dropped into a chair. 
 
 "Are you so uncomfortable here?" inquired Leonie. 
 
 "Je crois bien que je suis uncomfortable!" she said; " mon 
 Dieu ! si ce n'etait pas pour la honte — if it was not for the 
 shame, I'd rather sweep the streets." 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 82 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " But T think Mrs. Martha seems an amiable person/' said 
 Leonie. 
 
 "Oiii, e'est ime bonne femme celle-la; mais I'autre c*est une 
 guepe qui vous pique a tout propos." 
 
 "And the niece whom they call Miss Milly?" 
 
 " Sotte, vaniteuse, fausse." 
 
 "AndMr. "Whitelaw?" 
 
 "L'homme le plus detestable qui fiit jamais." 
 
 "And does he live here always?" 
 
 " Toujours, tant pis! He is their nephew, and he teaches the 
 writing, and the arithmetic, and the English language. Mais 
 Dieu ! Quel homme ! How he is greedy ! How he is mechant ! " 
 
 "But I thought he was a clergyman!" said Leonie. 
 
 " Oui, cur6; qui se croit digne d'etre 6veque, et ce sont de 
 jeremiades eternels sur ce sujet-la. Enfin c'est I'enfer meme ! 
 
 "I suppose you arrived here to-night ?" said Linny, desirous 
 of turning the conversation into a less painful channel. 
 
 "Comment arrive!" said the Frenchwoman. "I do not 
 arrive; I live here always for four years!" 
 
 " Always ! what, in the vacation, too ?" 
 
 " Mais oui, toujours !" 
 
 " That must be very disagreeable when you dislike them so 
 much." 
 
 " Degiagreable ! je crois bieii que c'est desagreable ! mais que 
 voulez-vous !" and Ma'ms'elle Coulin shrugged her shoulders ex- 
 pressively; whilst Leonie congratulated herself that she w^as not 
 so badly off as that. 
 
 " During the vacation," said the former, " I have all the house 
 linen, and blankets, and bed-covers, and curtains to mend and 
 turn; to repair the mattresses and every thing in the house, and 
 help to get them all cleaned, et mille autres choses; and I have 
 scarcely finished when the demoiselles come back again, et c'est 
 a recommencer." 
 
 "And do you teach any thing besides French?" 
 
 " Dieu ! n'est-ce pas assez ? Figurez vous ! soixante enfans
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 83 
 
 qui n'ont pas I'idee de prononcer mi mot. Sixty tliemes to look 
 over, run plus bete que I'autre !" 
 
 The secret of all this was, that poor Ma'm'selle Coulin was an 
 apprentice. 
 
 On the following day the young people began to make their 
 appearance ; some arriving by the coach, many in what were then 
 called one-horse chaises, and a few in post-chaises or chariots; 
 and it was to be observed that those who came in the humblest 
 vehicles had generally the saddest faces, a particularity that Linny 
 could not at first account for, though time and observation ex- 
 plained it. It was really a melancholy spectacle to see one tear- 
 ful face after another make its appearance at the school-room 
 door when the parents had driven away, and the iron gate had 
 closed upon the last link of the holidays. As they arrived, they 
 were called upon to retire into a small closet, which was used as a 
 lavatory, and there the holiday white frock was exchanged for 
 the school print or gingham, under the superintendence of 
 Ma'm'selle Coulin, whom, following the example of their supe- 
 riors, they treated with impertinence and contempt. Besides, 
 the poor Frenchwoman was exceedingly plain, and children like 
 beauty. They were, accordingly, much more favourably disposed 
 towards Leonie from the beginning. On being told she was the 
 new teacher, one or two of the younger ones, after looking in her 
 face, sidled up to her, and a little girl about eight years old, who 
 had brought a large plum-cake which she was to have the gioiy 
 of distributing amongst her schoolfellows, could somehow never 
 get past the spot where Leonie was sitting ; one slice after 
 another being, in spite of her protestations, dropped into her lap. 
 
 " "Why do you give all your cake to me, my dear? You know 
 I can't eat so much ! " 
 
 " Because you're pretty," answered the child : and Miss 
 Milly wondered how it was that her beauty, which the provin- 
 cial beaux had been admiring so much, had never won her a 
 single extra slice of cake in her life. 
 
 On the first day no business was done, and they sat in corners,
 
 84 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 or walked about the room with linked arms, narrating the events 
 that had occurred since they last parted ; the conversation of the 
 elder ones generally having reference to some irresistible partner, 
 who was destined to be their hero of the next four months. On 
 the following morning, the pupils being nearly all arrived, the 
 regular routine was resumed ; and Leonie found herself seated 
 on a high stool at one end of the room, hearing lessons in gram- 
 mar, history, and geography, and inspecting needlework. 
 
 " When they are not perfect you'll turn them back, and give 
 them a double lesson, Miss Lockwood; and, if they are imperfect 
 again, you'll send them up to me," said Mrs. Ann Baniard. But 
 Leonie was extremely merciful; and, having a lively idea of how 
 unpleasant a thing it must be to be sent up to Mrs. Ann Bar- 
 nard, she had not the heart to do it. Ma'm'selle Coulin's pupils 
 were, on the contrary, for ever going ujo, because she could not 
 manage them. They would not learn their lessons, and when 
 she reproved them they were impertinent, so that she lived in a 
 perpetual state militant. 
 
 " You have no method ! You don't know how to teach, Ma'm'- 
 selle ! You don't make the 3^oung people mind you ! " Mrs. Ann 
 Barnard was continually saying. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, Ma'm'selle Lock wood ! How shall they mind me, 
 when I am treated no more than a servant ? " 
 
 On the third day, in the midst of their studies, a handsome 
 carriage stopped at the gate, and soon afterwards a notification 
 for white frocks was suddenly sent up to the school-room, 
 v.4iereupon, in the midst of a general scramble, their dresses were 
 all changed ; the coloured ones were bundled into the lavatory ; 
 and presently, a tall haughty-looking woman, accompanied by 
 two plain, meanly-dressed children, were ushered into the room 
 by Mrs. Ann Barnard and the Eev. Mr. Whitelaw ; and straigh t way 
 tlie whisper went round, that this w^as Mrs. Pollard, the bishop of 
 B.'s lady and his lordship's nieces, who were to be placed under 
 Mrs. Barnard's care. The young people looked upon the coo'tcge 
 with indifference; but the royal children themselves could not
 
 LIXyY LOCKWOOD. 85 
 
 have created a greater sensation in the breasts of Mrs. Ann and 
 her nephew. They actually seemed ready to fall down and lick 
 the dust from Mrs. Pollard's feet; and from that moment these 
 two Misses Pollard, ordinary, stupid children, born of exceedingly 
 poor parents, and educated at the exjDense of their uncle, became 
 the idols of Mrs. Ann and the curate. Even Mrs. Martha was a 
 little thrown off her equilibrium, and was occasionally heard 
 reminding the young ladies who neglected to mend their stock- 
 ings, "that the bishop of B.'s nieces mended theirs." The best 
 buttered slices of bread were given them at breakfast, and the 
 nicest bits at dinner by Mrs. Ann, who presided; and near 
 v^^hom places were immediately vacated for them by the Misses 
 Danby, whose father was a country gentleman, supposed to 
 have some influence in the disposal of a certain vicarage. These 
 young ladies had for some time held the place of honour, from 
 which they were now deposed. They, however, had the satis- 
 faction of sitting next the Misses Pollard ; whilst the two Misses 
 Thom, who always sat at the bottom of the table (they were in 
 the habit of arriving in a one-h^rse chay, and their fiither kept a 
 shop), were pushed out altogether, and removed to a side-table, 
 to make space for the new-comers. Xo hai-sh word was spoken 
 to the Misses Pollard ; their lessons were made easy ; their 
 ftiults overlooked ; !Mrs. Ann never lost an opportunity of speak- 
 ing with unction of the bishop ; and thePev. Mr. Whitelaw smiled 
 dreadful smiles whenever they came in his way ; casting sheep's 
 ej^es at them, as if they carried fat livings under their pinafores. 
 '•' Yoyez la bassesse !" said Couliu, who disliked them all alike, 
 whether their relations were bishops or barbers ; whilst there 
 was not a child in the school who did not understand the 
 manege of the chiefs perfectly. It is quite wonderful at what 
 an early age children are able to penetrate into the motives 
 of their elders, and how soon they learn to despise them when 
 they deserve it. Many a despotic teacher little dreams, when 
 reproving a pupil, how justly his own character and motives 
 are appreciated, and what a full measure of contempt he inspires.
 
 86 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Entirely governed by favouritism, the arrival of these t^vo 
 Pollards augmented tenfold the injustice and partialities of Mrs. 
 Ann and her nephew. Adieu now to any hopes of a medal, 
 gold or silver ! At all times these had been awarded to the 
 most indifferent exercises, or the worst copies, if brought up by 
 a pupil whose condition in life was exalted above the others, 
 especially if there happened to exist the most remote connexion 
 with a dignitary of the church; but now these dull children 
 absorbed all honours and rewards. Miss Milly did not care for 
 them herself, for she had nothing to expect or hope from the 
 bishop; whilst she was quite indifferent to the interests of her 
 reverend cousin, whom she detested, because the natural malig- 
 nity of his disposition led ]iim, on all occasions that offered, to 
 snub her vanity ; but she was a dependent, and followed the 
 example of her superiors, an example which Coulin also so far 
 followed, that she forbore to comjilain of these children when 
 they did not know their lessons, and never gave them double 
 ones — an indulgence the more readily extended, that their stu- 
 pidity rendered them inoffensive. By all this favouritism Linny 
 was wholly uninfluenced; but still she had her favourite, too, 
 though the preference sprung from a very different foundation. 
 On the first day of the session there had arrived a little girl 
 called Alice IMearns. She was in deep mourning, and came by 
 the coach, without any friend to attend her; and when she 
 entered the school-room, though there was no immediate burst 
 of sorrow, as was the case with several of the others, Leonie ob- 
 served that her eyes were swollen and red, and her cheeks wan 
 with weeping. They looked as if the colour had been v/ashed 
 out of them by many tears. Her figure was slender, and her 
 features, without positive beauty, were delicate and refined, with 
 large pale ash-grey eyes, and lightish-brown hair. She had no 
 associate, for it was her first half-year, and she sat the whole of 
 the afternoon in a corner by herself, with a book in her hand, 
 of which, however, she was not seen to turn a leaf The other 
 girls eyed her with curiosity, as they walked arm-in-arm about
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 87 
 
 tlie room, but not witli sympathy. Children, indeed, have little 
 sympathy for each other; and are generally more like savage 
 animals, whose instincts impel them to combine against the un- 
 fortunate members of their own community. "Poor child!" 
 thought Leonie ; " there is sorrow in that young heart already," 
 and she crossed over and sat down beside her. 
 
 " It is dull for you to sit here alone," she said ; " but you have 
 had no time to make acquaintance yet. Have you ever been at 
 school before?" 
 
 " No," answered the child, without raising her eyes from her book. 
 
 " 1 have never been from home before either, and it is not 
 pleasant, at first, to find one's-self amongst so many strangers. 
 One feels as if one could never get acquainted, I daresay that 
 is what you feel, is it not?" 
 
 A slight blush sufi*used the wan cheek, and the little girl half 
 raised her eyes, as she said, " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " I have no doubt that all those we see chatting together so 
 freely, felt the same on their first arrival; so we must hope to 
 get over it, like them." 
 
 But Alice's lip quivered, for she thought she should never get 
 over it. 
 
 "What book are you reading f asked Leonie, taking the 
 volume into her own hand. 
 
 " Harry and Lucy." 
 
 " How neatly it's bound. You must take care and not spoil 
 this pretty binding. If I were 3'ou, I'd put a paper cover over it- 
 Shall I do it for you?" 
 
 " If you please!" said the child. 
 
 On the title-page was inscribed, in a graceful female hand, 
 " To Alice Mearns, from her affectionate Mama," and Leonie 
 wondered, but was afraid to ask, if the black bombazeen frock 
 was worn for that fond mama. 
 
 " And is it a pretty book? Have you read it?" 
 
 " Xo," and the eyes which had not jet been quite raised to 
 lionie's face, fell again.
 
 88 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " Perhaps you haven't had it long enough to read it yet?" 
 Alice was silent, but there was a quiver of the lip that told 
 the tale; the mother had given the book, and died. 
 
 Leonie laid her hand upon the child's, and jjressed it tenderly, 
 and she saw that Alice could scarcely restrain her tears ; but 
 that she was ashamed to indulge them before so many strangers. 
 From that time, the little mourner was her favourite, and she 
 endeavoured as far as she could, without doing what would have 
 been wrong in her situation, to cheer and sustain her ; and Alice 
 became passionately attached to her in return. Indeed, from the 
 moment she had raised her large grey eyes to L6onie's face, 
 v/hich was not, however, during their first dialogue, the child's 
 heart was won. Whatever she had to learn for Leonie's class 
 was learned eagerly; and the little hand often trembled with 
 emotion and anxiety to please, when Leonie's fingers guided her 
 through the crotchets and quavers at the music lesson. But 
 Alice was not equally successful with all her teachers; and, above 
 any, she failed with Mrs. Ann Barnard, whom she both feared 
 and detested. The lessons she said well to Leonie, she could not 
 afterwards repeat to Mrs. Ann, when called upon; and, more 
 than once, Alice had the intense pain of hearing her beloved 
 teacher reproved for her own bad memory. Mrs. Ann requested 
 Miss Lockwood would be more particular with Miss Mearns, and 
 not let her come up so unprepared; and Mrs. Ann's requests 
 were not delivered in the ple^isantest tone in the world. On. 
 these occasions, Alice's grief was so great, that for several hours 
 she could not recover the shock, nor, impeded by her sobs and 
 tears, apply again to her studies ; and thus she got into more 
 trouble. In short, she was by nature an over-sensitive child, 
 and was placed amongst people who, with the exception of 
 Leonie, made no allowance for peculiarities of character or 
 unequal endowments. Of course, Leonie never reproached her 
 with these failui'es, for she comprehended the source of them, and 
 knew that reproof would only aggravate the misfortune — a 
 forbearance that endeared her still more to the grateful, loving
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 89 
 
 little heart she had to deal with ; so that, by the time they had 
 struggled on through all the petty calamities and vicissitudes of 
 the half year, Alice's devotion to this one fnend she had found 
 in the wilderness, had warmed into enthusiasm.
 
 90 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "Who is that note from?" said Mr. Edmonstone to his wife 
 one day, referring to a modicum of j)ink paper that the footman 
 had just presented to her. 
 
 " From Mrs. Eardley — regret they're engaged. It's very 
 odd ! This is the third time we've asked them to dinner, and 
 I'm sure the notice is long enough. I shall certainly not dine 
 there again till they've been here. I don't understand such 
 airs !" 
 
 "When did you see Miss Eardley?" inquired Mr. Edmon- 
 stone of Yaughan, who was sipping his glass of claret. 
 
 " This morning," returned the young man. 
 
 " Was the mother at home ?" 
 
 " No ; she was out." 
 
 No more was said at the moment, and shortly afterwards Mrs. 
 Edmonstone left the table. There was, indeed, little inducement 
 to remain at it longer than the eating part of the ceremony re- 
 quired ; for of late Mr. Edmonstone seldom opened his lips to 
 speak, but sat eating his dinner and drinking his wine like an 
 automaton that had been wound up to perform those operations; 
 appearing to be no more conscious of what he was doing than 
 such a machine would be ; nor did he generally seem more con- 
 scious of his wife's presence than of his own actions. His eye 
 looked out upon vacancy, and, when she spoke to him, he as 
 often as not appeared deaf to what she said. 
 
 This abnormal state, which had scarcely been perceptible at 
 first, had gradually augmented till it drew the attention of 
 every body, and occasioned his wife considerable uneasiness; and
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 91 
 
 whilst their friends and acquaintance made their own comments 
 on the subject, she tried to discover the cause of the change, and 
 administer a cure. She asked her husband " If he were ill, or if 
 any thing had happened to annoy him;" and, when she found it 
 impossible to obtain any satisfaction, she privately consulted 
 Dr. Winterson, who described the disease as a well-known form 
 of indigestion connected with torpidity of the liver, and pre- 
 scribed Hydrargium cum creta. 
 
 When she presented the dose, however, nicely gilt and ready to 
 .swallow, Mr. Edmoastone went into a violent passion, called her 
 a fool, and Dr. Winterson an ass; and forbade her to interfere 
 with what concerned him. When he wanted a physician, he 
 would send for one himself After which, though no less puzzled 
 and observant, Mrs. Edmonstone kept her observations to her- 
 self for some time, till one day that her husband dined out, and 
 she and Vaughan were sitting over their dessert alone, she asked 
 the young man if he did not think his father was looking very 
 ill, and if he did not remark a great change in him. 
 
 Vaughan, who thought all elderly people, especially fathers, 
 more or less disagreeable, replied that the governor certainly 
 appeared to be in a devilish bad temper; but Mrs. Edmonstone 
 objected that he used not to be habitually bad-tempered, and 
 that she was certain there must be some cause for it, bodily or 
 mental. She wondered whether there could be any thing wrong 
 at the bank ! 
 
 Quickened by this suggestion, and coupling it with what his 
 father had said to him regarding Miss Eardley, Vaughan began 
 to suspect there might really be some foundation for the hint 
 about his allowance, which he had thought only a ruse; and, 
 habituated to all the indulgences and luxuries of fashionable 
 life, such a suspicion fell over him like a pail of cold water. 
 Well he knew that he was never made for poverty, nor jDoverty 
 for him; and that, if they came together, the consequences of the 
 union would be fatal. Whereupon he set to watching his father 
 more closely, and, growing frightened at what he saw, he began
 
 92 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 to turn his thoughts towards Cattie Eardley, to whom he had 
 for some time been paying a great deal of ostentatious attention, 
 with the view of satisfying the governor, without ever saying a 
 word to her in private that could commit himself; for, strange 
 as it may seem, he was really in love with Miss Lock wood, and, 
 had he been a rich man, would have taken her, not only in 
 preference to Cattie Eardley, but to the greatest heiress in Eng- 
 land. But, much as he loved her, there was one person in the 
 world he loved better still, and that was Vaughan Edmonstone ; 
 and although; to obtain possession of her, he was ready to sacri- 
 fice every body else's feelings and interests, he could not think 
 of sacrificing his own. It w^as very unpleasant, indeed — very 
 painful to him — to relinquish the woman he preferred to all 
 otliers, but it was more painful to encounter poverty and the 
 loss of caste, that poverty without exalted birth entails; so, 
 with considerable regret and unwillingness, he began making 
 love to Cattie Eardley in right earnest, and slackened his cor- 
 respondence with poor Leonie, who, being at the school, he could 
 not have visited had he wished it. 
 
 On the day with which this chapter opens, when Mrs. Edmon- 
 stone had left the room, a pretty long silence ensued, although 
 iiot only were the minds of both gentlemen occupied with very 
 much the same subject, but each was pretty well aware of what 
 the other was thinking of; for by this time, although there had 
 been no absolute explanation betwixt them, there existfjd a tacit 
 understanding. Yaughan comprehended that for some reason 
 or other, the fortunes of his house were tottering; and Mr. 
 Edmonstone knew that his son was courting Miss Eardley under 
 the influence of that unpleasant conviction. At length IMr. 
 Edmonstone, lifting liis glass of claret to the light, and contracting 
 his brows as he gazed at the bright purple it reflected, said, 
 without looking towards his son, " So you saw Miss Eardley tliis 
 morning?" 
 
 " Yes ! " answered Yaughan, starting from his reverie ; '' I was 
 with her for an hour, or more."
 
 LrS'NY LOCKWOOD. 93 
 
 " And do you never see the mother?" 
 
 " Never now. I always call when she's out. AYe've agreed 
 on a signal by which I know whether to knock at the door or 
 not. But the fact of the matter is, sir, that it appears to me I 
 am only getting myself into a scrape. As long as I thought 
 Mr. and Mrs. Eardley would have no objection to the match, it 
 was all very well; but I don t care a d — n for Cattie Eardley, 
 and it will be deuced hard if I'm to marry a woman I've no fancy 
 for, and she's to be disinherited after all." 
 
 " If you hadn't been such a cursed trifler you might have se- 
 cured her long ago, and been married by this time." 
 
 " I did not want to marry Miss Eardley, sir; and I had no 
 idea there was any reason why I should. I'm making my suit 
 to her now in obedience to your commands; not from my own 
 inclination, I assure you." 
 
 " I don't believe her uncle will leave his fortune away from, 
 her, whoever she marries ; besides, you used to be a great favour- 
 ite of his." 
 
 '• She's an only daughter," observed Taughan ; " and, although 
 the father and mother might be very angry at first, I should 
 hardly think they'd hold out." 
 
 Mr. Edmonstone inclined to the same opinion, and he believed 
 that the connexion, once formed, it might prove of the greatest 
 advantage to himself as well as to his son ; for not only was he 
 persuaded that Mr. Eardley, after a certain period of resentment, 
 would forgive and reinstate his daughter, but he also thought 
 that he, Mr. Eardley, would be desirous of sustaining rather than 
 depressing a family of which this much-loved child had become 
 a member; and that thus the crash of impending ruin that every 
 symptom betokened, and none more than Mr. Eardley's growing 
 alienation and distrust, might be finally averted. 
 
 Instigated by these motives, as well as by that paternal pride 
 and fondness that caused him to feel infinite pain at the thought 
 of his handsome, elegant Vaughan being cast upon the world a 
 penniless fine gentleman, he covertly gave the young man every
 
 9-i LIXNY LOCKWOOD, 
 
 encouragement to prosecute his suit, and even so far to take 
 advantage of Miss Eardley's avowed love for him, as to make a 
 runaway match of it. 
 
 In the mean time, poor Linny Lockwood was pining at Mrs, 
 Barnard's boarding-school for the visits she conld no longer 
 enjoy, and for the letters that did not arrive. Had Yaughan 
 loved her less, he would probably have had as little remorse iu 
 deceiving her as he had in deceiving Cattie — not, however, that 
 he felt none in this latter instance : to do him justice; he would 
 much rather have been excused the task ; but inexorable fate, in the 
 shape of an impending empty purse, compelled him to act as he 
 was doing; with respect to Leonie it was different. He pitied 
 her, and he pitied himself; and whilst he was unwilling to 
 inflict so much anguish as he knew the truth would carry with 
 it, he had not the heart to write her falsehoods, and keep alive hopes 
 that were never to be fulfilled. But many a time, when he 
 mounted his favourite black mare in Cavendish-square, after his 
 daily visits at Mr. Eardley's, he turned her head in the direction 
 of Battersea-bridge ; and Linny little thought, as she sat on her 
 high stool near the window, listening to dull repetitions, that it 
 was Proserpine's foot she heard outside. 
 
 When the holidays came round, she returned to her father and 
 mother, who had now removed to a much less cheerful home 
 than she had left them in ; and with her, to the inexpressible 
 delight of the girl hei*self, went Alice Meams, it not being con- 
 venient to her owTi friends to receive her. An intimation to 
 that effect, it appeared, had been made to Mrs. Barnard when 
 first the girl joined her establishment, and no objection was 
 offered to her remaining during the vacation ; but when it came 
 to be understood, at a later period, that the Misses Pollard were 
 also to remain, certain qualms had arisen concerning the gentility 
 of Alice's connections; and Mrs, Ann and the Eev. Whitelaw, 
 as Coulin called him, were of opinion that since the bishop 
 would, of course, be extremely particular regarding the intimacies 
 formed by his nieces, it was not desirable to retain Miss Meams.
 
 LIXXY LOCK WOOD. 95 
 
 Alice, who hated both Mrs. Ann and her nephew, was de- 
 lighted to hear it, and, after a little negotiation, it was agi-eed 
 that she should spend the holidays with Miss Lockwood; the 
 small stipend for her maintenance not being unacceptable to the 
 family in their present reduced circumstances. And very glad 
 Lconie was of the child's company, for hers was a dull home now; 
 her father was broken in spirits and in health, and her mother, 
 whom no prosperity would have spoiled, had fallen into a state 
 of indolent depression, that aggravated the discomforts of their 
 naiTow means. In short, had Leonie been aware of the sort of 
 menage she was going to introduce Alice to, she would never 
 have acceded to the plan; but, fortunately, the gi'ievance was 
 one that never reached the guest, it being all the same to her, 
 so that she enjoyed Leonie's society, whether the table-cloth was 
 clean or dirty, or whether, when the dinner was placed upon it, 
 there was any thing fit to eat or not. Leonie, however, tried to 
 biing things into better order, and with some success, whilst she 
 was present to superintend them ; but there was poverty to con- 
 tend with, and, what was w^orse, no glimmer of better fortune 
 in the horizon. Lockwood and his wife were living at present 
 on the small savings he had made, and on some anonymous assist- 
 ance they had received ; assistance which they both refeiTed to 
 Mr. Edmonstone, and for which Mrs, Lockwood expressed great 
 gratitude ; but which George would have refused to accept, had 
 not his poverty and his want of energy, together with his wife's 
 influence, overcome his repugnance. 
 
 But where was Yaughan Edmonstone? That was a question 
 that Linny asked herself daily, for he neither wrote nor came; 
 and, unsustained by the joy that had lighted her path so long, 
 she had great difficulty in maintaining a semblance of cheerful- 
 ness. 
 
 A^aughan, in the meanwhile, was making forced love to Cattie 
 Eardley; and the young lady, having ascertained beyond all 
 doubt tliat her parents would not consent to the match, they 
 were planning a trip to Gretna Green, the immediate execution
 
 96 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 of whicli, Mr. Eclmonstone, senior, promoted; not perhaps 
 avowedly, but by various indirect influences which he knew how 
 to use. 
 
 Mr. Eardley and his family were now residing at a country 
 house of his called May field, where they usually spent a consi- 
 derable portion of the year ; and from this place Cattie thought 
 it would not be very difficult for her to escape by night, her bed- 
 chamber being easily accessible by a ladder, and her father 
 frequently absent in London. Accordingly, arrangements were 
 made for a moonlight flitting, on a certain Wednesday night, 
 that being the day of the week on which Mr. Eardley always 
 went to London, whence he seldom returned till Friday or 
 Saturday. The young people thus reckoned on gaining a good 
 start, and getting the knot securely tied before they could be 
 overtaken, for there were no angry brothers to ride after him; 
 Mrs. Eardley would be too much amazed and confused to orga,n- 
 ize a pursuit, and, before a message could reach the father, the 
 fugitives would be far on their way; " and then we shall come 
 back," said Cattie, " and make our reverences, and beg pardon, 
 like good children." 
 
 " And be forgiven ? " said Yaughan. 
 
 "Perhaps not just at first," Cattie said; "but very soon, she 
 was sure." She was an only child, and had always been the 
 darling of her parents; and that they could long hold out against 
 her, she thought impossible; more especially as, according to her 
 view of the case, the elopement was forced upon h«r by their 
 unreasonable refusal to let her marry the man she loved — a man 
 with whom she had been intimately associating for several years, 
 and against whose attentions her father had not warned her till 
 it was too late. That Yaughan's love for her was feigned, she 
 never suspected. Perhaps he was not so warm and tender a 
 lover as she would have liked him to be; perhaps he did not love 
 her with the same devotion that she loved him ; but it might not 
 consist with his character to do so ; and doubtless, if he did not 
 love her as passionately as would have satisfied her young
 
 LIN^'Y LOCKWOOD. 97 
 
 dreams, he loved lier better than he loved any other' woman in 
 the world. It is also to be observed, that a certain degree of 
 coolness, that leaves the heart unsatisfied and anxious, is fully as 
 likely to disjDose a woman to commit a folly as the most enthusi- 
 astic courtship; and the prett}^ spoilt young heiress, afraid 
 of losing her lover altogether if she did not secure him whilst he 
 was willing, consented to the scheme, and promised to be ready 
 at the appointed time. 
 
 Running away with the man of one's heart, in perspective, 
 is a lively, exciting sort of affair; but the actual execution of it 
 is a very nervous one. A thousand regrets, and misgivings, and 
 distrusts, are apt to present themselves at last, that were not felt 
 earlier, because the mind of the fugitive is fixed exclusively on 
 what she hopes to win ; but when that which she so much desires 
 appears actually within her grasp, the value of what she is about 
 to lose rises in the balance, in a manner quite unforeseen. 
 Cattie Eardley's home had been a very happy one; and, except 
 in this one point of the marriage with Yaughan, she had always 
 found her parents complying and indulgent. She knew they 
 loved her tenderly, and fond memories of the past shot every 
 now and then, like arrows, through her breast, as the time drew 
 nigh that she was to abandon their roof, and commit an act 
 that, she was well aware, would occasion them extreme aflSic- 
 tion; and perhaps — for, although she hoped the contrary, 
 she could not be certain of the result — perhaps alienate them 
 from her for ever. Engi'ossed with these thoughts and feelings, 
 she gi'ew visibly depressed and absent. Her usual pui'suits were 
 abandoned; she would sit silent for hours if no one spoke to 
 her; and when they did, she started, and answered like one 
 awakening from a dream. As there was no company in the 
 house to withdi-aw her from the observation of her parents, this 
 change in a girl who was naturally very lively, aroused their 
 attention, and led to some inquiries, wliich resulted in the dis- 
 covery, that their daughter was maintaining a secret correspon- 
 dence with Yaughan Edmonstone. Cattie had made no confidant ; 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 but the ladies' maid liad watched the whole progress of the love 
 afiair with intense interest, insomuch that there was scarcely a 
 letter passed between the young couple that she did not get a 
 peep into ; and, although she was not in full possession of the 
 plan formed for the elopement, she was perfectly aware that a 
 private marriage was to come oiF shortly, in some way or anotlier ; 
 and so she told Mrs. Eardley. 
 
 " It was no business of hers," she said, " to interfere, unless 
 she was spoken to;" but the moment she was inten'ogated, she 
 poured out her whole stock of information with delighted volu- 
 bility. It is so agreeable to have something to tell, that throws 
 your auditor into an agony of distress and amazement ! 
 
 Angry and agitated, Mrs. Eardley rushed into her husband's 
 library, to communicate the sad intelligence. Cattie was carry- 
 ing on a clandestine intercourse v/ith Vaughan! Cattie was 
 deceiving them ! Cattie was going to elope ! Mr. Eardley flew 
 into a towering passion, and swore she should be immediately 
 locked up, and fed upon bread and water till she came to her 
 senses ; and, had he had his way, Cattie Eardley would assuredly 
 have never been Lady Glenlyon ; but the flame of the father's 
 wrath extinguished that of the mother — she grew frightened at 
 the storm she had raised ; and, after some argument, succeeded in 
 convincing, liim that there was no way so certain to make a 
 woman run away as locking her up. 
 
 " Let me speak to her!" she said. " I think if I could get a 
 promise from her to relinquish all intercourse for a year, till she 
 has had time to reflect, and see more of the world, that in that 
 interval we may manage to break off" the connexion altogether." 
 
 Cattie was in her own room, packing up a few jewels and 
 other little matters that she meant to take with her, when her 
 mother entered in tears, and crying, " Oh, Cattie ! Cattie ! Do 
 you mean to break our hearts?" threw herself into the girl's 
 arms. She acted upon impulse ; but had she studied to produce 
 the efiect she desired, she could not have hit upon any thing 
 better. Such a mode of attack dis]3ensed with all question ; it
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOP. 99 
 
 took every tiling for gi^antecl, and precluded defence. Cattie 
 bm-st into tears, and wept a silent confession on her mother's 
 neck ; and then Mrs. Eardley, pursning her advantage, proceeded 
 to expatiate, not on the misery she vf ould bring npon herself by 
 a marriage with Vanghan — for that, of course, she would not 
 have believed, nor was there any precise reason why she should, 
 Mr. Eardley 's motives for forbidding, the connexion being such 
 as he had not thought it safe or prudent to communicate to 
 liis daughter. All she knew was, that the partners were no 
 longer on friendly terms, and that the Edmonstones and 
 Eardleys had ceased to visit. Abuse of Vaughan, therefore, 
 which would have appeared to her founded only on prejudice, 
 could have availed little ; but the mother had recourse to a more 
 persuasive argument : — she pleaded for herself and her husband ; 
 urged their affection, painted their distress; and, instead of de- 
 manding an unconditional surrender, she asked only for tvv^elvc 
 months' submission. 
 
 " If, at the end of that period, your mind is unchanged, I'll 
 then try what I can do with your father;" so Cattie yielded, 
 and Mrs. Eardley engaged that there should be no reproaches!, 
 nor any distrust or supervision, to make her uncomfortable. 
 
 There can be no doubt that Mrs. Eardley left her daughter 
 much happier than she had found her. Cattie felt a great weigjit 
 taken off her spii-its and her conscience. She should not see 
 Vaughan for a year — but what was a year? How soon it would 
 slip by, and at the end of it, instead of being obliged to elope to 
 Gretna Green, she should marry Vaughan with her parents' con- 
 sent, and drive away with her four horses, and her trousseau, and 
 her jewels, and all those appurtenances that make matrimony so 
 agreeable. 
 
 There was one thing, however, that it became necessary to do 
 immediately, and that was to write to her lover and communicate 
 to him the new and unexpected aspect affairs had assumed ; for 
 this denouement had occurred on the Monday afternoon, and 
 in thirty-six hours more they had expected to be galloping along
 
 100 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 the north roadj at the rate of fourteen miles an hour. So slie 
 locked her door, and occupied herself till the gong sounded for 
 dressing, in inditing a long and exj)lanatory letter, 
 
 " Be assured," she said, " dearest Yaughan, I shall not change 
 if you do not; and, therefore, this arrangement is only deferring 
 our marriage for a few months, and then under how much hap- 
 pier auspicies it will take place ! Shall I confess the truth to 
 you? Dearly as I love you — and you cannot doubt my love 
 after what I had consented to do — but, dearly as I love you, I 
 anticipated Wednesday morning with dread, I recoiled from 
 leaving my father's roof clandestinely. Think what a horrid 
 tiling it would have been, to read in the papers how you had 
 brought a ladder, and how I had got out of the window, and 
 how^ we had been pursued ! &c. &c. ; and, suppose we had been 
 overtaken, how ridiculous we should have looked! ISTo, dear 
 Yaughan, it is a thousand times better as it is, believe me ; and, 
 if 3"ou do not think so in the first moment of disappointment, 
 rely on it you soon will" — and then followed vows of unchanging 
 affection, and injunctions that he should love her as she loved 
 him, but make no attempt to interfere with the engagement she 
 had entered into; and, this letter despatched, she descended to 
 dinner, shrinking a little from her father's eye, but altogether 
 with a lighter heart than she had had for some days. 
 
 No allusion was made to what had passed ; and Mr, Eardley, 
 whose passion had evaporated, had the judgment not only to 
 abstain from reproof, but he contrived to touch her heart by an 
 unusual degree of kindness. He poured some wine into her glass 
 and into his own, and, laying his hand affectionately on hers, 
 drank to her health ; and, when she and her mother rose to leave 
 the room, he drew her towards him as she passed his chair, and 
 tenderly kissed her cheek. 
 
 Scenes of this description never take place in a house unob- 
 served by the servants. They may not always draw correct 
 conclusions from what they see; but, as there is no class of j^eo- 
 ple endowed with a greater share of curiosity, they invariably
 
 LTXNY LOCK WOOD. 101 
 
 know a great deal more about our family mattei^ than we sup- 
 pose. Accordingly, the whole establishment at Mayfield were 
 not only well aware that Miss Eardley was carrying on a clan- 
 destine acquaintance with young Edmonstone, but they also 
 knew that, on this particular day, there had been what is called 
 a hloio-up, and that their master had taken measures to cut the 
 conneonon. When, therefore, Miss Eardley said to the footman, 
 as she handed him her letter, " Put that in your pocket, James, 
 and be sure and take it to the post this evening !" James obeyed 
 the first part of the injunction with alacrity, but with regard to 
 the second he had some hesitation. He had taken many a one 
 bearing the same address to the post before, having no orders to 
 the contrary ; but it occurred to him that, in the present position 
 of affairs, it might do himself a service if, instead of doing as his 
 young mistress desired, he carried the letter to Lis master; so 
 after consulting Mrs. Dycer, the ladies' maid, who offered to do 
 it for him — a favour which he declined — he ascended to the 
 dining-room with the missive in his hand, requesting to know if 
 Mr. Eardley had any message to the post-office, as he was going 
 there with a letter for Miss Eardley; and he held forth the paj^r 
 as if to invite insjjection. 
 
 '• A letter for my daughter V^ 
 
 *' Yes, sir,** said James. 
 
 '- When did she give it you?'* 
 
 '* Just before dinner, gir." 
 
 ^' You may leave it here; I'll put it in the post myself.** 
 
 xVnd James descended complacently to the servants' hdl. very 
 well satisfied with the issue.
 
 102 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 On tte following Tnesday night, or rather on Wednesday 
 mornings for it was considenibly past midnight, and when all the 
 family had been some time in bed, Cattie Eardley was awakened 
 out of a sound sleep by a stone being thrown at her window. 
 When she heard the smash, she at first thought the honse was 
 attacked by burglars, and she started up, preparing for a dart 
 out of the room ; but when, after a few minutes, nothing more 
 followed, she concluded that the stone-thrower w^as Yaughan, 
 and that he wantesd to speak to her. She was very unwilling 
 to infringe on her promise by complying with his wishes, but, on 
 the other hand, if she did not, he might remain there till he was 
 i-emarked ; so she jumped out of bed, and, softly lifting the win- 
 dow, she put out her head and said, " Is that yon, Yaughan"?" 
 But there was no answer, although she fancied she heard a man's 
 foot not far off. After waiting and listening awhile, she closed 
 the sash and returned to her bed, somewhat perplexed at the 
 event. 
 
 When Dycer came to her in the morning, the draught of air 
 soon betrayed what had happened, and, on expressing her alarm 
 lest Miss Eardley should catch cold. Miss E. related what had 
 occurred. " It must be some mischievous people from the vil- 
 lage," Dycer said ; " very likely the boys that had been threat- 
 ened with jail for stealing the wall-fruit." The young lady 
 desired that the glazier should be sent for, and the glass mended. 
 
 At breakfast Mr. Eardley mentioned to his daughter that 
 he had just passed her window, and remarked that it was 
 broken ; whereupon Cattie told the story of the stone with some 
 confusion, apprehensive that her parents might put an ill con-
 
 LIXXY LOCK'»VOOD. 103 
 
 struction uj^on the circumstance ; she added, that Dycer thought 
 it was done by the boys that had robbed the garden. Mr. 
 Eardley said he shoukl not wonder if it were, and, as he was not 
 going to town that day, he shoukl inquire into it. 
 
 When Miss Eardley went to dress, she was displeased to find 
 the window was not mended, and inquired if the glazier had 
 been sent for. 
 
 "I desired the groom to go for him, ma'am," returned the 
 maid; "but master said he was going down to the village 
 himself, and would send him." 
 
 The evening was cool and windy, and, feeling the draught, 
 Miss Eiirdley dressed in her mama's room. At dinner she in- 
 quired why the glazier had not been ; and then it appeared Mr. 
 Eardley had forgotten all about the matter. He was very 
 sorry, but it was too late to send for the man now, and Mrs. 
 Eardley desired that another room might be prepared for her 
 daughter that night. Cattie smiled to think what a curious 
 coiitretems this would have been, had the elopement not been 
 given up. 
 
 Whilst such was the state of affairs at INIayfield, Yaughan 
 Edmonstone was extremely busy in London, preparing for the 
 flight to Gretna Green. No notice had reached him of what 
 had occurred, and considering that, being in for the thing, it was 
 best to go through with it thoroughly, he had s^Dared no pains to 
 avoid failui-e. Relays of horses were ordered to be ready at 
 appointed hours for the first hundred and fifty miles; and in 
 due time he started from London with an ingeniously constructed 
 ladder strapped on to the carriage, and a confidential valet inside 
 of it. Perfectly well acquainted with the house and grounds, 
 he anticipated no difficulty. The carriage was left at a little 
 distance from the gate, and, accompanied by the servant, they 
 surmounted the wall that surrounded the enclosure, and pro- 
 ceeded to the side of the house where Miss Eardley usually 
 slept. A light gleamed brightly from her window, which was 
 open; she was evidently ready, and expecting him ; and, bidding
 
 104 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 tlie man be sure to hold the ladder steady when he brought the 
 lady down, he ascended and jumped into the room, which he 
 had no sooner done than the light was extinguished, and he 
 found himself seized by what appeared to be a legion of devils, 
 who belaboured him with sticks till his body felt as if it was 
 beaten into a jelly. When his assailants had taken their revenge, 
 they suddenly retired, locking the door after them, and leaving 
 him to make his escape as he pleased. 
 
 Of course the attack was attributed to Mr. Eardley, who in- 
 deed had no objection to take the credit of his own scheme ; for 
 it is needless to say that the stone was thrown by himself, in 
 order to have an excuse for removing his daughter to another 
 room. Yaughan sent him challenge after challenge; but Mr. 
 Eardley only laughed at them, and the proud yoimg guardsman 
 had no alternative but to swallow the indignity. From Kate 
 the adventure was carefully concealed ; her mother took her to 
 Paris, where they stayed some months : and, to prevent mischief, 
 an adroit system of surveillance, regarding her correspondence, 
 was for some time maintained, lest Vaughan should write to her. 
 However, he did not, nor had he the slightest desire to do so ; 
 not that he suspected her of having any part in the insult he had 
 suffered, but he never loved her, and now he hated her as the 
 cause, however involuntary, of the disgrace and ridicule that had 
 fallen upon him. He had been dragged into the whole thing 
 against his will (so he now considered), by her unsought attach-- 
 ment on the one hand, and his father's advice on the other ; and 
 he was furious at having incurred all this annoyance for the 
 sake of a woman he cared nothing about, and having lost the 
 game into the bargain: that is to say, lost the money he had 
 played for. 
 
 And this, unfoi-tunately, proved bat the first act of the 
 tragedy. Mr. Eirdley, who had been hitherto restrained, by 
 certain considerations, from laying before other parties concerned 
 in the bank, the reasons he had for distrusting his partner's 
 honesty, now made the disclosures for which he had been some
 
 LINNT LOCKWOOD. 105 
 
 time preparing, by collecting proof, and retaining evidence ; and 
 thus, with a crash, down fell the fortunes of the Edmonstone 
 family, and poor George Lockwood was scarcely a poorer man 
 than his once affluent patron. 
 
 The effects of this dreadful reverse, combined with the per- 
 sonal insult he had received, and which he had no means of 
 washing out in the blood of his enemy, were altogether ruinous 
 to the character of Vaughan Edmonstone. In his prosperity, 
 he had been very much like a vast proportion of young men, as 
 we see them in society; neither better nor worse. He was 
 extravagant, of course; but he would not have done any thing 
 dishonourable for the world, so he thought — that is, he would 
 not have done any thing that would have stained his honour or 
 periled his position as an officer and a gentleman; but trifling 
 with a young lady's affections, or running away with her for 
 the sake of her fortune, did neither. These are venial pecca- 
 dilloes. Of course, too, he was inexorably selfish — but he did 
 not know it: for it is a very noticeable fact, that the selfishness 
 of men, and few indeed are they that are free from it, is a 
 passion so identified with their whole habits and charactei^, that 
 they are not in the least conscious of its existence. It is so en- 
 tirely engrained in their nature that they cannot perceive it ; and 
 the most selfish of men are not only indignant and amazed if 
 you accuse them of being selfish, but they invariably think 
 every body else is selfish who does not yield implicitly to their 
 selfishness. 
 
 Accordingly, in all this love-making and scheming, Yaughan 
 had thought of nobody but himself — that was a matter of coui-se ; 
 and, as he did not love Cattie Eardley, she would have found 
 him but a cold and careless husband, who would have nedected 
 her, and spent her fortune ; but he would have kept his place 
 amongst men of honour, and been looked upon by the world in 
 general, as a very agreeable, gentlemanly, nice young fellow. 
 But the case was altered now. His father's character was 
 blasted ; his own honour was stained ; his position in society
 
 106 
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 was lost; and lie had no money. Tlien let the world go hang! 
 He must make out his life without it. So he took to low 
 gambling-houses, frequented horse-races, and earned his liveli- 
 hood chiefly by billiards, at which game he was an adept. And 
 now, also, he renewed his correspondence with Linny, for whom, 
 even during the most animated period of the affair with Miss 
 Eardley, his love had never abated. Living in the suburbs of the 
 city, purposely concealing himself from all his former ac- 
 quaintances, it was some time before George IJockwood heard 
 of what had happened in Fleet-street; and indeed the first 
 precise intimation he had of it was from Morland, who came to 
 him on the part of Mr. Eardley, to whom he now found he was 
 indebted for the periodical supplies of money which he had 
 imagined he owed to Mr. Edmonstone. " To this hour," Morland 
 said, " tve don't know the truth of the business; but it appears 
 that Mr. Eardley had his suspicions from the first, and that he 
 has never believed you as much implicated as you appeared to be ; 
 and subsequent investigations, I believe, have exonerated you 
 entirely in his opinion. Under these circumstances, he thinks it 
 but just you should be reinstated." 
 
 Poor George and his wife went to bed very happy that night ; 
 and their first thought was, that they should be able to release 
 Linny from her slavery, and have her home again. It was a 
 proud day, too, when, with his threadbare coat well brushed, and 
 his shabby hat furbished up to make the best possible appearance, 
 |Mr. Lockwood started for Fleet-street, where he found every 
 face with a smile, and every hand stretched forth to grasp his. 
 
 " Well, old fellow, glad to see you back ! I've only been keep- 
 ing your stool warm for you," said Kobinson ; whilst Tiggs swore 
 that he had been under the necessity of dancing a hornpipe the 
 evening before, when Morland told him that they were to have 
 honest George Lockwood in his old place again. 
 
 It soon appeared, however, that George's head was not what 
 it had been; the injury he had received on that unlucky night, 
 together with the shock to his mind, occasioned by the whole
 
 LINNY LOCK WOOD. 107 
 
 affair, had permanently damaged his healtli and enfeebled his 
 ficulties, memory especially; insomuch that, although as diligent 
 and pimctual as ever, he was found no longer equal to the situa- 
 tion he held, and from which he was necessarily deposed, after 
 a short interval, to make way for some one more capable. Mr. 
 Eardley, who was very sorry for his misfortunes, gave him some 
 employment that kept him and his wife from want; and Linny 
 remained at Mrs. Barnard's, where she had received letters from 
 Vaughan, telling her of his loss of fortune; and that all that 
 remained to him now in the world was her love. Of course, 
 she vowed that that should never fail him; and even when she 
 came home, and learned from her father what had happened at 
 IMayfield, she did not retract, for Yaughan had prudently pre- 
 pared her for the intelligence. He had confessed every thing, 
 adding what was, indeed, time — that his love for her had never 
 varied for a moment ; and that, as long as he believed his family 
 prosperous, no authority or entreaties would have induced liim 
 to break his faith with her; but when he saw his father and 
 mother threatened with ruin, and when they looked to him to 
 save them, he felt himself bound to sacrifice his own happiness 
 for their sakes; and the only consolation he had in all this 
 misery was, that he had escaped marrying a woman he detested, 
 and was free to marry the only one in the world he ever could 
 love. 
 
 But when George discovered the attachment between his 
 daughter and the son of the man who had been his greatest 
 friend and his worst enemy, he forbad the connexion, both from 
 resentment to the father, and because he had heard something 
 of Vaughan's way of life; but Linny answered that her faith 
 had been given when she had every thing to gain by it, and 
 could not now be retracted because she might have something 
 to lose.
 
 108 
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 During tlie whole pei-iod of Vauglian's defection, Linny liarl, 
 of course, been very unhappy. Her situation at Mrs. Barnard's 
 was as disagreeable as Coulin had foretold, though not quite so 
 bad as the poor Frenchwoman's, because she was not so much at 
 their mercy. Indeed, the Hev. Mr. Whitekiw treated her 
 with what he intended to be extreme civility ; but she hated 
 him so cordially, and was so thoroughly disgusted by his injustice 
 and his baseness, that she would have preferred his aversion to 
 his favour — more especially, as one of the most marked victims 
 of his unfairness was her j^t'otegee, Alice Mearns, who apparently, 
 having no friends, he was in the Imbit of hitting very hard 
 indeed, whenever the opportunity offered. 
 
 As is the case in most establishments of the description of 
 ]Mrs. Barnard's, there was considerable inequality of condition 
 amongst the pupils, and it was becAuse the treatment each 
 received was very much regulated by the position of the parents, 
 that the one-horse chaises presented more tearful faces at the 
 school-room door than the chariots and jiair. But the claims 
 of Alice Mearns to consideration were less than any of the others, 
 in as much as she did not seem to belong to any body at all; the 
 person who paid the stipend for her board and education, and 
 who had corresponded with Mrs. Barnard respecting her, called 
 himself Jes-op; but he spoke of her as Miss Mearns, and did not 
 appear to feel any interest about her. Her mother was dead, 
 that Linny knew ; and, from a circumstance that occurred whilst 
 Alice was spending the vacation with the Lockwoods, she also 
 knew that her father was alive. It was one evening, when-^^they
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 109 
 
 were at tea, that tlie maid entered and said a gentleman wished 
 to see Miss Mearns. Alice rose dii^ectly with a start, as if she 
 had a presentiment of who it was ; and when Linny proposed 
 that the gentleman should walk in, the maid answered, that 
 " He said he couldn't. He wants miss to go out to him." 
 
 Presently, Alice came back, looking very red, to fetch her 
 bonnet and shawl; and on their inquiring where she was going 
 so late, she replied that she was going to take a walk with her 
 papa. 
 
 " Is it your papa that has called on you]" 
 " Yes," said Alice. 
 
 She was absent about an hour, and when she returned it was 
 evident that she had been weeping; but as she offered no 
 explanation, Linny did not feel herself authorized to ask any, 
 resting satisfied that there was some family mystery which Alice 
 did not think proper to communicate. 
 
 Before the period of Yaughan Edmonstone's visit, however, 
 which had so suddenly deprived Mrs. Barnard of her teacher, 
 Alice Mearns had quitted the establishment under somewhat 
 unusual circumstances. 
 
 For a considerable time, there had been an under-current of 
 complaint amongst the young people that they lost their little 
 properties in an unaccountable manner. Knives, pencils, scissors, 
 thimbles, and various other portable articles, were in the habit 
 of making the most extraordinary disappearance — sometimes, 
 even, vanishing during the night ; and it was nothing uncommon 
 to hear them saying, " I'm certain it was in my pocket when I 
 went to bed, and in the morning I couldn't find it, high or low ! " 
 As time advanced, the evil augmented. It seemed as if the 
 thief — if thief there were — gathered courage from impimity ; for 
 now sixpences, shillings, and even half-crowns, began to be 
 missed ; and it grew to be observed that the principal sufferers 
 were the inhabitants of the room in which slept Linny, Alice,, 
 the two PoUards, and six other girls. One of the first, indeed, 
 who had complained, was Alice herself; at a later period the
 
 110 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Misses Pollard said that they had lost things, and so indeed said 
 every inhabitant of the room, with the exception of Linny herself. 
 
 For some time this rumour did not extend beyond the younger 
 members of the society, but, by and by, it reached the ears of the 
 seniors, through one of the elder girls, who complained that she 
 had been robbed, by degrees, of nearly all the money she had 
 brought to school with her. This circumstance roused the at- 
 tention of the teachers, and, on questioning the children, Leonie 
 was grieved to learn that they had pretty universally fixed their 
 suspicions on Alice Mearns ; the grounds of this suspicion being, 
 in the first place, their inability to understand her — and, in the 
 second, the circumstance of her having been found possessed of a 
 snxall gilt pin which did not belong to her. It was discovered 
 sticking in her Sunday frock one day, when they were dressing 
 for church, and was immediately pounced on by the Misses Pol- 
 lard as theirs. Alice resigned it without a struggle, saying 
 only, that she had picked it up the preceding Sunday, and had 
 forgotten it. To herself the matter appeared trivial; but not to 
 the others, who were on the look-out for some indication that 
 should betray the criminal. Elbows were iiudged, significant 
 glances exchanged, and the whisper circulated, that Miss Mearns 
 was certainly the thief AVhen Linny became acquainted v/ith 
 this persuasion, she took Alice aside and interrogated her. 
 
 "I picked up the pin, just as Mrs. Ann came up in the even- 
 ing to read prayers," she said; "and directly afterwards our 
 frocks were taken off and put away. I did not want to keep it ; 
 but I did not know whose it was, and I forgot it." 
 
 With respect to the other allegations, she declared herself 
 entu-ely innocent. " I never took a thing," she said ; '' but I've 
 lost my knife, and I cannot find any where the little bag Mrs. 
 Lockwood worked for me, nor the steel buckle you gave me in 
 the holidays ; " and Linny believed her, but nobody else did. And, 
 as children are generally without mercy, they openly called her 
 the thief, hooted and hissed at her, and excluded her from their 
 games; so Alice took to sitting in the corner with her beloved
 
 LiNXY LOCKWOOD. Ill 
 
 book, feeling injured and repelled, but, seeing that Linny did 
 not believe her guilty, less distressed than might have been ex- 
 pected. 
 
 In the meantime, this repudiation of Alice made little difference 
 ill the proceedings of the criminal, whoever she might be. For 
 a short time, indeed, after the affair of the gilt pin, which had 
 created such a sensation, the pilferings had ceased, which only 
 confirmed the ill oi^inion entei-tained of Alice ; she was frightened, 
 her comjDanions said, and did not dare to pei-severe; but after a 
 little while they recommenced, and there was seldom a week 
 without complaints. What rendered the thing more perplexing 
 was, that few of the young people had any depositary for their little 
 properties that was not open to public inspection. Their boxes 
 were unlocked, and their pockets hung up to their bed-posts at 
 night, and the teachers having received private directions to 
 search them, and notliing being found, the investigation was at 
 a stand-still. 
 
 It was an established custom to admit a woman into the play- 
 ground on Wednesdays and Saturdays, of whom the young 
 people purchased fruit or cakes, according to their means 
 and inclinations. On the first half year, Alice had dealt with 
 her like the others ; whilst the Misses Pollard, having no money, 
 or very little, seldom bought any thing. But now the case was 
 reversed; Alice did not buy, because, as she said, when Linny 
 inquired the reason, she had not the means; but the two 
 Pollards were always amongst the purchasei-s. They had not 
 been home, but their aunt had been to see them, and 
 might, possibly, have brought them a supply. It was diffi- 
 cult to suspect those quiet, demure, stupid girls, of sucli 
 dexterous thievery; and yet Linny, persuaded that Alice was 
 innocent, had doubts, of w^hich she said nothing, knowing it 
 would be treason to express them. Some time elapsed before 
 any thing happened to strengthen her suspicion, except the 
 circumstance of being awakened one night by somebody moving 
 about the room, and being answered by the eldest PoUard, when
 
 112 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 slie inquired wlio was out of bed, that it was she. " I thought 
 you called me, ma'am," said the girl. " You must have been 
 dreaming," said Linny, that being her first conclusion; but as 
 the dim light of the window showed the figure, not approaching 
 her bed, but at the other end of the room, she afterwards felt 
 somewhat dubious of the girl's veracity. Still, as she could 
 prove nothing, she said nothing, and there the matter rested till 
 about six weeks before the vacation, when Alice, one morning, 
 having instituted a vigorous search for a mislaid stocking 
 which she had carelessly thrown aside the night before, suddenly 
 
 exclaimed " Oh my here's my bag ! " 
 
 "Where?" said Linny, who was assisting the young ladies to 
 dress. 
 
 " Here, behind ray bed," said Alice, drawing it out. 
 The bed in which Alice slept, was a heavy, old-fashioned piece 
 of furniture, commonly called a turn-up, which had been intro- 
 duced into the room for the first time this half year, in conse- 
 quence of a paucity of accommodation for some additional pupils ; 
 and as it stood in a darkish corner against the wall, divided from 
 it only by a^ narrow ledge that surrounded the skirting, the 
 small space that intervened formed a convenient receptable for, 
 any thing that was thrust into it. 
 
 "Oh my look here !" cried Alice again, as she drew the 
 
 strings of the bag and took out a silver pencil-case. 
 
 "That's my pencil-case!" exclaimed one of the young 
 girls. 
 
 "Give me the bag!" said Linny, taking possession of it. 
 "Who put it there? did you. Miss Mearns?" but whilst she 
 asked the question of Alice, she instinctively turned her eyes on 
 Miss Pollard, who, unprepared for her scrutiny, was unconsciously 
 standing by with somewhat the expression of a magpie, whose 
 hoards were suddenly disturbed, 
 
 " No," said Alice, in evident amazement; "I did not put it 
 there." 
 
 " I shall keep this bag as it is," said Linny, " and give it into
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 113 
 
 file hands of Mrs. Barnard. It is certainly a very extraordinary 
 circumstance." 
 
 There was an immense chattering that morning as the children 
 blattered down stairs to the school-room. 
 
 " It was hid behind Mearns's bed.'' 
 
 " Miles's pencil-case was in it." 
 
 " I hope my scissors are thei-e.'' 
 
 *' She must have hid it herself.'' 
 
 "Miss Lockw(X)d's going»to show it to Mrs. Barnard." 
 
 '•' Mearns ought to be turned out of the school;" and so forth. 
 
 Although fully persuaded herself of Alice's innocence, yet 
 Linny was aware that appearances were much against her 
 favourite; whilst the flagrant partiality that existed, rendered it 
 necessary that she should be extremely cautious iu inculpating 
 mother upon evidence so slight as any she could adduce against 
 Miss Pollard. Still she felt herself bound to declare her con- 
 t^ictions to Mrs. Ann, which she took an opportunity of doing 
 privately when she gave her the bag. 
 
 " I have had great opportunities of observing Miss Mearns," 
 ;he said; "and I believe her to be a perfectly honest child. I 
 'eel certain that her sui'prise at finding the bag was genuine ; and, 
 IS nobody saw it till she spoke, there vras no necessity for her 
 >aying any thing at all, had she Vrdshed to conceal it." 
 
 " But somebody must have put it there, and somebody in 
 ;liat room," said IMrs. Ann. " If it was not Mearns, who could 
 t be?" 
 
 " I should be very sorry to suspect any one unjustly," said 
 Linn}^ ; " but one night, not long ago, I was awakened by some- 
 Dody moving about the room, and, on asking who was out of 
 )ed, I was answered by the eldest Miss Pollard, who was coming 
 rom the end of the room where Mearns sleeps. She said that 
 he fancied I had called her; but — " 
 
 "And I dare say she did," rejoined Mrs. Ann, interrupting 
 ler. " I don't see what Miss Pollard's being, by some accident 
 )ut of bed, could have to do with this bag being discovered 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 LIIS'NY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Ixeliind Miss Meams's bed, Gliiklren often dream that kind of 
 thing." 
 
 " But it was the child herself that discovered the bag," said 
 Linny. 
 
 " Children of that sort are very cunniug," said Mrs. Ann. 
 
 " I don't think ^iiss Mearns is cunning," answered Linny. 
 
 '• I'm of a different opinion," said Mrs. Ann. " There's some- 
 thing abont her I never liked, and I am soriy we ever took her." 
 
 " During the time she lived with me, both I and my mother 
 thought her a very harmless girl. But there's another circum- 
 stance I think it right to mention ; when Mrs. Denny comes, on 
 Wednesdays and Saturdays, with her basket, the Misses Pollard 
 niways have money to spend with her; last half-year they had 
 none." 
 
 An angry red suffused Mrs. Ann's face at this intimation of 
 Linny's suspicions. She reminded her that the Misses Pollard 
 were the bishop of B.'s nieces, and that the manner in which they 
 liad been brought up precluded the possibility of their being ad- 
 dicted to such practices; "but we have reason to believe," she 
 added, " from something that has lately reached us, that Miss 
 Mearns's family are not respectable, and that she. is not a fit in- 
 mate for our establishment; and this pilfering confirms that 
 opinion. I shall speak to my nephew about it, and hear what 
 he advises." And, with this, Linny way dismissed, not at all 
 •shaken in her opinion, but aware that it was in vain to enforce it. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Whitelaw could have but one opinion where 
 the bishop's nieces were concerned ; he averred that every tiling 
 tended to inculpate Miss Mearns ; and, as that judgment coin- 
 cided with that of the young people in general, it was decreed 
 that the friends of Alice Mearns should be requested to remove 
 her. When Alice herself was informed of this sentence, she fell 
 into the most violent fits of weeping. She had borne the unkind- 
 iiess of her companions, and the odium of the crune, not without 
 ])ain, but with a certain degree of philosophical resignation; her 
 sense of justice and her self-respect were wounded, but her heart
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 115 
 
 was not. Now, however, her courage gave way. To be expelled 
 from the school was to be separated from Miss Lockwood; the 
 only being on earth, now her mother was gone, to whom her 
 young heart clung! To be allowed to stay she would have 
 wilhngly endured all the insults and contumely that could have 
 been heaped upon her head, bitter as it was; for, except Linny, 
 nobody spoke to her, and she was not even allowed to eat with 
 the others, but had her meals at a table apart. Liuny, however, 
 did not desert her lyrotegee, for whom she felt the more dis- 
 tressed, because she felt sure the child had no pleasant home or 
 indulgent friend to receive her. Her mother was gone ; about 
 her father some mystery seemed to hang, insomuch that Linny 
 inclined to think he was in debt, or difficulty, and in hiding 
 from his creditors; whilst the only person that appeared to have 
 any charge of her was Mr. Jessop, to whom Mrs. Barnard had 
 now written. Alice said he was a relation of her mother ; but 
 she had evidently no attachment to him ; and, with her peculiar 
 character, the poor child's prospects seemed as dreary as could 
 well be — a circumstance of which she herself appeared fully con- 
 scious. However, there was no appeal from the tender mercies 
 of Mrs. Ann and her nephew, who were apprehensive that the 
 story of the thieving, cii'culated, as it was certain to be by the 
 young people in the vacation, might injure the reputation of 
 the school, and even occasion so dreadful a catastrophe as the 
 removal of the bishop's nieces. A victim was demanded to 
 avert this calamity, and appease the wrath of these high gods, 
 and Alice, being apparently friendless, was selected for the 
 sacrifice without remorse. 
 
 In the meantime, however, the contumacious Mr. Jessop, 
 though requested to fetch the girl away, had neglected to obey 
 the mandate; for nearly six weeks Alice had been sent to 
 Coventry by her schoolfellows, had endured the bitter scorn of 
 Mrs, Ann, and the contemptuous sneers of the Rev. Mr. White- 
 law, when one day, when the young people were all at dinner,' 
 Mrs. Ann presiding as usual, and Alice eating in the corner by
 
 116 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 lierself, a smart ring at the gate bell drew every eye to tlie win- 
 dows which looked towards the road, and what should the delighted 
 eyes of Mrs. Barnard behold, but a handsome dark-green carriage 
 with four horses — people drove four horses in those days — and a 
 tall footman in a rich livery, who carried in his hand a cane 
 almost as tall as himself. 
 
 At this exciting spectacle, Daniel, who participated in the 
 reverence of his superiors for every thing that w^as grand, rushed 
 out of the room and down the steps to admit this distinguished 
 visiter; but what was the dismay of Mrs Ann, when, returning 
 as quickly as he went, he produced a card on which was printed 
 the name of "Mrs. Maude Stanley ;"" and underneath, in pencil, 
 was w^ritten — " Come to fetch Miss Alice Meams — begs she'll get 
 ready as quickly as possible." 
 
 " It's a lady come for Meams, Miss Lockwood," said Mrs. Ann, 
 with a vexation she could not conceal. " You had better go up 
 ^vith her and put on her things. Is Mrs. Maude Stanley a rela- 
 tion of yours, Mearns?" Mrs Ann always omitted the Miss, 
 when she spoke to her favourites. 
 " Yes, ma'am ; she's my aunt." 
 
 " Indeed! I did not knov/ you had an aunt;" she might have 
 added, especially an aunt that drove four horses, and had a tall 
 footman with a tall cane. 
 
 It was a mortifying circumstance that this distinguished aunt 
 would not alight ; but, as she obstinately refused to do so, Alice 
 was sent up stairs with Miss Lockwood, to prepare for her depar- 
 ture. " I am so glad to find you have a relation to be kind to 
 you," said she; "are you much attached to her?" 
 
 "No," answered Alice; "Aunt Stanley always lives abroad; 
 I've not seen her often. Oh, Miss Lockwood ! I wish you were 
 going with me. I shall never love any body so much as I love 
 you! Wont you come and see me sometimes? I'll write and 
 tell you where I live." Linny kissed her, and cheered her, and, 
 as soon as she was I'eady, led her down to the dining-room to 
 take leave of Mrs. Ann, who shook hands with her in a friendly
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 117 
 
 manner, and hoped she should hear she was a good girl; whilst 
 the young people, who had tossed up their chins at her for six 
 weeks, now moved by example, held out their hands too, saving, 
 *' Good by, Mearns ! good by ! " and as their eyes followed her 
 down the steps, and into the carriage, they thought what a 
 pleasant thing it must be to be expelled from Mrs, Barnard's 
 boarding-school.
 
 118 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 In one of the pavilion rooms in Dessin's hotel, at Calais, sat 
 Sir Arthur and Lady Glenlyon at breakfast. They had crossed 
 the water only the morning before^ for the weather had detained 
 them three days at Dover. The storm had now abated, and it 
 was fine, though cold. As they were going to travel, they had 
 ordered a dejeuner a la fourclielte, to which the bridegroom had 
 done ample justice; the lady, however, sat languidly sipping her 
 cafeau ^ai^, whilst she drew imaginary figures with her fork on 
 the china plate that was before her. 
 
 " It makes me quite uncomfortable to see you eat no break- 
 fast, my love," said Sir Arthur, as he rose from the table. " Do 
 you never eat breakfast?" 
 
 " Oh yes ! I suppose I do sometimes, when I'm hungry." 
 
 " I wish I could see you eat now ! Nothing makes me so 
 hungry as travelling. I wonder it hasn't the same eff'ect on 
 you. I'm afraid you're not well, are you ? " 
 
 "Quite well, thank you." 
 
 Sir Arthur looked at her with a curious eye, whilst she con- 
 tinued playing with her fork; and then, drawing a chair to the 
 table, he seated himself beside her, and threw his arm round her 
 waist. 
 
 " Tell me, Cattie," he said, " have I displeased you in any 
 wayl" 
 
 In all ways, she would have liked to answer; but, instead of 
 that, she said — 
 
 "No, certainly not ; why should you think I'm displeased?" 
 
 " Because you don't seem like yourself You used to be merry 
 enough, I'm sure."
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 110 
 
 ** WheiiT' slie asked, raising her eyes to liis face. 
 
 " Why, formerly ; before I went to Florence." 
 
 " Yes, I was merrj enough, then, I daresay, I was but a 
 girl." 
 
 " And since I came back, too." 
 
 " You fancy so. You seldom saw me except in company, 
 and one's obliged to get up on-e's company spirits then." 
 
 " WeU, 1 wish you'd get up your company spirits now! It 
 makes me quite uncomfortable to see you so depressed; it does 
 indeed 1 " 
 
 " I'm not depressed. I'm just in my natural state. I'm 
 sm'e there's nothing so odious as forced gaiety." 
 
 " I agree with you; but why should your gaiety be forced?" 
 
 " It v/ould be forced if I assumed it to prevent jour feeling 
 uncomfortable. Isn't it better to leave one's spirits to take 
 Iheir natural course? if they're not good, remai^king on them 
 won't make them better]" 
 
 " Then you confess yours are not good T' 
 
 " I was n-ot speaking of myself; I spoke geiierally," said Cattie, 
 rising and seating herself at the window, whilst Sir Arthur 
 placed himself on the hearth, with his back to the fire, and 
 istood there with his hands under his coat-tails, observing his 
 wife, though not appearing to do so — doubtless, each had 
 thoughts that were best not comniunicatecL 
 
 They had remained thus silently for some minutes, when the 
 lieels of a pair of boots resounded on the pavement outside, and 
 a gentleman passed along the upper end of the qusxlrangle, and 
 disappeared into the house. Whei'e Sir Arthur stood he could 
 not see him, but Lady Glenlyon could, and her cheek grew fii*st 
 pale, and then red, and she ieaned out of the window to conceal 
 her em.otion. It was Vaughan Edmonstone she had seen, 
 and her immediate impression was, that he was following her; 
 an impression that first made her heai't leap for joy and then 
 recoil with terror. Since the crisis of the intended elopement, 
 «hg had neither heaa-d from nor spoken to him; of the event.?
 
 120 LINNY LOCIiWOOD. 
 
 of that niglit slie was still ignorant — and, as she had enjoined 
 him not to -^Tite to her, she for some time believed his silence 
 was LQ confoiTiiity with this injunction ; although she did wonder 
 at the exactitude of his obedience. Then came the crash, and 
 the fall of the Edmonstones was in every mouth; their name 
 was coupled with dishonour ; her fatlier uttered it with scorn and 
 loathing. It was not now that he did not approve of the match, 
 and wished the engagement held in abeyance for a certain period, 
 but, anned with unanswerable ai^iments, he could carry it 
 with a high hand. It was hard to stand fast against this flood of 
 obloquy; but as women who are really in love, love the adver- 
 sity of their lovers, Cattie Eardley might have held out had 
 Yaughan sustained her ; but, so far from it, he not only made no 
 advances, but on one occasion, when they met by accident as she was 
 stepping out of her carriage at Harding and Howell's, in Pali-Mall, 
 lie cut her, and Avith evident design ; and whilst she proceeded into 
 the shop, almost fiiinting from agitation, he passed on with a haughty 
 smile of sarcasm and contempt, the true key to which manifestation 
 it must be remembered she did not possess. It miglit be resentment 
 against her father that actuated him, or it miglit be against herself, 
 for having- yielded to the influence of her family. Whichever it 
 was, he seemed determined to abide by the same line of conduct; 
 for, although irritated by anxiety into breaking her pledge, he took 
 no notice of the letters she wrote to him ; nar did he make any 
 attempt to approach her when they met one night at the 
 theatre; although, none of her family being with her, he might- 
 have done so without impediment. 
 
 Cattie Eardley was not romantic or sentimental, but she was 
 passionate; she was not a girl to I'etire from the Avorld and waste 
 her life in secret siorhs, but, the chann of it beinsr lost with 
 Yaughan, she felt embittered and angiy, and, perhaps^ some- 
 what reckless. She went into society, and dressed, and danced, 
 and was admired, and received offers innumerable; but getting 
 tired of all that, for in the long run such a sort of life becomes 
 insnppoi-tably wearying, eveu to the young, where tliere is any
 
 LI>->"Y LOCKWOOD. 121 
 
 depth of feeling — she thought she would many Sir Arthur 
 Glenlyon bv way of a change. "Wlien he made her proposals, she 
 neither liked him nor disUked him — he was an object of perfect 
 indifference to her; but her ^mily highly approved of the 
 match, and she was herself fully aware of the external adTan- 
 tages that attended it. So she accepted him, and for some time 
 the preparations for the marriage occupied and amused her. 
 But, as the period fixe<:l for the ceremony approache«L her feel- 
 ings changed their complexion, and what had hitherto been 
 indifference gradually grew into dislike ; not that she discoTcred 
 any thing unexpected or repellent in the character of her 
 intended husband — what she discovered was, that her own heart 
 would not be so easily satisfied- It was that that rebelled, and 
 cried aloud for a reality — not a counterfeit : the passionate heart, 
 that gratified ambition and worldliness could not content. With 
 these feelings, the wise thing would have been to incur the 
 odium of drawing back, even at the eleventh hour; but Kate 
 was not a woman to do that either. She would have done it 
 to run away with Yatighan Edmonstone, without a moment s 
 hesitation, but not to encounter the various impleasant conse- 
 quences of such a proceeding, unsustained by him — the reproadies 
 of her family, the gossip of the worl«i, the temporary retirement 
 from society, and the subsequent return to it, only to recom- 
 mence the same weary existence. Xo ! having stepped in so 
 far. to return were ''as weary as go o'er;"* and it is extremely 
 possible that had she acted differently, and retracted her consent, 
 she might, when too late, have equally repented. Indeed, she 
 was aware of that now ; ami, however discontented and unhappy 
 she felt in her marriage, she did not persuade herself that she 
 would have been happier had she remained single. Her belief 
 was, that she miLst have been unhappy under either alternative ; 
 and that her parents were altogether to blame for not letting her 
 marry the man she loved when she might have done so without 
 discredit. TVhat, if Vaughan were poor ? woidd not her fortune 
 have amply sufficed ? And would he not have loved her when.
 
 122 
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 in addition to her other proofs of regard, she became the source 
 of his material prosperity ? For perhaps, in her secret heart, 
 she did not much overrate either his love or his character, but 
 suspicions, or even convictions of this sort, make little difference 
 when once a woman is in love ; few of us, I am afraid — compara- 
 tively few — are cured of a passion by doubts of the worthiness 
 of its object ; at all events, when we are, it is by a slow process: 
 the cure does not come with the conviction. 
 
 Why Yaughan should have refrained from seeking her before 
 her marriage, to follow her after it she could not divine ; but 
 yet, that she was the object of his journey she vehemently sus- 
 pected, for this was not the first time she had caught a glimpse 
 of him. She had seen him at Dover, standing at an inn door as 
 she drove into the town on the day succeeding her marriage— 
 at least she had fancied it was he at the time, and now she felt 
 assured of it. That he sliould act thus, both alarmed and dis- 
 tressed her — the thought of it fell over her soul like a cloud big 
 with mischief; and the calm briglit future which, as a wife, 
 should have bounded her horizon, loomed darkly and mysteriously 
 in the distance — a fate that was not to be read — a destiny she 
 feared to unravel. And y^t, wherefore ? She might resolve to 
 avoid all danger — to forbid his approach — resolutely to abstain 
 from any sort of intercourse or correspondence ; and, moreover, 
 she might fortify these resolutions, and enable herself to carry 
 them out, by her husband's aid. She had only to place a certain 
 amount of confidence in Sir Arthur, just enough to shew him that 
 it was proper to decline Yaughan's acquaintance, and he would 
 be her best supporter; but she could not bring herself to do this. 
 Her own pride, her want of love for her husband, and certain 
 sentiments that lingered in her heart for the man whose wife she 
 had hoped to have been, forbad it. 
 
 ''• Yaughan is poor, now," she reflected. " Why should I add 
 to the stings of poverty those of insult ? Besides, T may be 
 mistaken ; it may not be on my account he is here, after all." 
 Shortly afterwards. Sir Arthur, having been out of the room,
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 123 
 
 said on re-entering it, " Who do you think I have just seen 
 leaning out of one of the windows that look into the court 1 " 
 
 Kate knew very well who he had seen, but she stretched her 
 head out of the window, as if looking for tlie person herself, and 
 said— "Who?" 
 
 "Your old playfellow, Yaughan Edmonstone. I had never seen 
 him since the crash, and felt rather awkward as I caught his eye." 
 
 " Did you bow to him ? " 
 
 " Of course. I wonder what he can be doing here ?" 
 
 "Living cheaper than he could in England, perhaps." 
 
 "Not at Dessin's hotel, I should think. If you meet him, 
 shall you speak to him ?" 
 
 " Why shouldn't 1 1 He couldn't help his flither's misconduct. 
 I'm sure he has suffered enough by it." 
 
 They did not meet, however, for Yaughan had no desire to 
 encounter Lady Glenlyon. He was lounging at the door of the 
 hotel, when he saw two or three servants engaged in packing a 
 handsome travelling-carriage, ^\hich, he was informed, belonged 
 to Sir Arthur. He had observed the notification of the mar- 
 riage in the papers, and understood that they were on their 
 wedding tour. As he contemplated the elegant and luxurious 
 conveyance, and saw the busy lady's-maid and the important 
 liveried servants arranging the cloaks and shawls, and other 
 matters, he felt, not envious, but angry and revengeful ; for it 
 could not be said that he envied Sir Arthur, since he never for 
 an instant wished to be the husband of Catherine Eardley, whom 
 he hated ; but, somehow, he felt that all that luxury and state 
 should have been his; and he curled his lip with a smile of 
 mingled disdain and mortification, when he remembered the 
 love passages betwixt himself and the fine lady that was about 
 to be conveyed to Paris in that carriage, whilst he and his wife 
 would be jolting along the same road in a diligence. 
 
 All this he saw and thought, but to Linny he did not men- 
 tion the presence of the Glenlyons. That Miss Eardley was to 
 marry Sir Arthur, she had heard from her mother; but she had
 
 124 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 no idea tliat tlie pale face and languid eye tliat bent forward to 
 look at the diligence, as the English equipage rolled past it on 
 the road, belonged to her rival. Vaughan sat back and con- 
 cealed himself; the French passengers remarked, that it was a 
 helle voiture Anglaise; Cattie sighed, and fancied it would be less 
 enniiyant to travel in that diligence than beside Sir Arthiu' ; and 
 Linny looked out upon the berlin, and the lady wrapped in her 
 shawls and furs, with interest and curiosity, because her heart was 
 light, and her mind disposed to be amused with all she saw. 
 In short, she had got Vanghan for her husband, and she wajs, on 
 the other side of the channel for the first time in her life, elated 
 and amused. True, she had left Mrs. Barnard's in a manner 
 open to very unpleasant suspicions, for when it was discovered 
 that her father was not ill, it would be imagined that she was a 
 party to the scheme of deception ; but, en revanche, although she 
 had some kindly feelings towards Mrs. Martha, Mrs. Ann and 
 the E,ev. Mr, Whitelaw had inspired her with sentiments of 
 such unmitigated dislike and contempt, that she cared very little 
 for their opinion, good or ill. A worse view of the case was, that 
 she had married, not only without her father's consent, but indirect 
 opposition to his injunctions. To these injunctions, however, she 
 had never jDromised obedience. She had given her faith to 
 Yaughan when he was at the summit of prosperity, at least 
 when both he and she believed so, and when her father would 
 have thought himself inexpressibly honoured by the alliance. 
 That Yaughan would have fulfilled his engagement had fortune 
 continued to smile, she did not doubt; and that she should 
 break hers, because that fickle goddess had turned her back on 
 him, was a treason to love, that she could not for a moment 
 consider justifiable. It was natural that her father, with the 
 worldliness and coldness of age, should think as he did ; but he 
 had plighted no faith, was breaking no vows ; and the counsel 
 which prudence excused him for giving, it would have been base- 
 ness in her to follow; and, finally, he would assuredly forgive 
 her the first time they came together.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 125 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Mrs. Barnard was not more astonislied and disconcerted at 
 the unexpected appearance of Mrs. Maude Stanley's four horses, 
 than Alice was surprised and pleased at the unexpected appear- 
 ance of the lady herself, whom she had not seen for a long time, 
 and little dreamed of seeing then : for Mrs. Stanley had been so 
 many years abroad, that scarcely any thing but her name sur- 
 vived in the memory of her niece. She knew, however, that 
 this rich lady was her mother's sister, and her own aunt ; and 
 out of the dim past, there stood forth a single point of tin^e — a 
 single scene — unsustained by any thing that preceded or followed 
 it, wherein she beheld two ladies in an elegantly furiiished apart- 
 ment, she knew not where situated, for she liad no recollection 
 of seeing that room since; and she knew that one of these ladies 
 was her mother, and the other was Mrs. Maude Stanley. She 
 knew also, although she could not tell how she knew it, that 
 Mrs. Stanley was beseeching her sister to go away with her; 
 and she remembered that, in the course of the conversation 
 between them, her mother had caught her (Alice) up in her arms, 
 and said in answer to Mrs. Stanley's entreaties, '•' No, Maude, 
 never; but if I die, remember I bequeath her to you!" 
 
 What the other had answered, Alice did not remember, but 
 since that time she had never seen her aunt till she was handed 
 into her carriage at Mrs. Barnard's gate. From the moment 
 she had been informed of her intended expulsion, the poor girl 
 had been extremely imhappy; for, although she hated the 
 school, her love for Linny had sustained her under all her 
 troubles, and she v,'as willing to endure every mortification that 
 the peevish injustice of Mre. Ann, or the malignant injustice of
 
 1-6 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 the Rev. Mr. Wliitelaw, could inflict, rather than be se]3arated 
 from the only person she loved in the world since her mother 
 was gone. Thus, although sent to Coventry by her young com- 
 panions, and insulted by her seniors, she had dreaded the moment 
 of her departure as much as most persons, under similar circum- 
 stances, would have desired it; but, like so many of our antici- 
 pated miseries, when the event occurred at last, it arrived under 
 an aspect so little foreseen, that grief was swallowed up in the 
 surprise and huny of the summons ; and she was made ready 
 and handed into the carriage, all flushed and flurried, before she 
 had time to recover the first effect of the announcement that her 
 aunt had come to fetch her. 
 
 Linny embraced and kissed her protegee, greatly relieved to 
 find that she was not so friendless as she had apprehended. 
 Alice promised to write and let her friend know where she lived, 
 adding, as she ran down-stairs, " You'll come and see me in the 
 holidays !" and the next minute she was seated beside a very 
 grand-looking lady, who, Avithout greeting her in any way, 
 pronounced the word " Home ! " and then desired her to draw 
 lip the glass. This done, and the horses in motion, Mrs. Maude 
 turned round and surveyed her; and then after a pause, during 
 which she more tlian once applied her handkerchief to her eyes, 
 she broke silence by saying, " What is this you have done, Alice, 
 to cause you to be expelled from Mrs. Barnard's school?" 
 
 "• I have done nothing," answered Alice. 
 
 " Nay," returned Mrs. Maude, " governesses do not dismiss 
 their pupils without cause. You must have done something 
 wrong — and very wrong, too." 
 
 Alice was silent, not because she was persuaded that she liad 
 done any thing wrong, but because it seemed such an established 
 fact in other people's minds, that the attempt to overthrow the 
 belief appeared useless; at all events, it required more energy 
 than she could exert in her own cause. 
 
 " I might have seen Mrs. Barnard, and learned the distressing 
 particulars from her," continued Mrs. Stanley, " but I felt it too
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 127 
 
 jiainful;" and Avitli this she again applied the handkerchief to 
 her eyes, and Alice was moved by the tears to repeat that she 
 had not done anj thing to merit expulsion. 
 
 " There were a great many things lost," she said ; " I lost 
 things as well as the others; and at last I found them all in my 
 bag, hid behind my bed — " 
 
 " You found them?" 
 
 " Yes; I found them one morning when I was looking for 
 one of my stockings. We had looked every where we could 
 think of for the things; but nobody had ever thought of looking 
 there, and, because they were found behind my bed, they said I 
 had put them there myself; but I didn't." 
 
 " Oh, Alice! Alice!" said Mrs. Maude, evidently much dis- 
 tressed, and entirely unconvinced by the protestations of 
 innocence, " I am afraid you are your father's own child!" — an 
 apprehension which Alice, not understanding its bearing, did not 
 attempt to allay by contradiction. " I cannot wonder, after 
 .such a disgracefal occuiTence, that Mrs. Barnard should refuse 
 to retain you in her establishment ! " 
 
 As all this was said more in sorrow than in anger, Alice felt 
 rather perplexed than hurt. She would have been really glad 
 to relieve her aunt's distress, by convincing her that she was 
 lying under a wrong impression ; but as she did not see how that 
 was to be done, she again took refuge in silence ; and as she was 
 whirled along the road to London, thoughts new and strange 
 passed through her young brain. It seemed as if every body was 
 against her — every body but Miss Lockwood — and she wondered 
 why it should be so. Her mother had adored her; and, as long 
 as that fond mother lived, she had been environed by love and 
 tender cares ; but from the moment of her death how every thing 
 had changed ! — faces, as well as other things ; and even this aunt, 
 whose intentions were evidently kind, meets her with a strong ad- 
 verse prepossession. Alice thought it very extraordinary; but as no 
 arrow wounded her much that was not thrown by a hand she loved, 
 she was more puzzled and amazed than distressed by the enigma.
 
 128. LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 In tliis way they reached London ; Alice remaining silent, 
 except when spoken to ; and Mrs. Stanley occasionally asking 
 her questions about the school, or about Mr. Jessop, who had 
 placed her at it ; but always addressing her in a tone of subdued 
 condemnation, as benevolent people speak to convicted criminals, 
 mildly and kindly, but with reproof and sadness in her voice. 
 The carriage finally stopped at the door of an hotel in Berkeley- 
 square, where Alice was delivered over to the care of a Parisian 
 lady's-maid, at the sight of whom she felt a certain warmth 
 about the heart which Mrs. Stanley had failed to excite ; for 
 Angelique was not only young, but extremely pretty, and her 
 dress, though by no means inconsistent with her position, was 
 charmingly tasteful, and becoming. 
 
 The first commission received, was to refit Alice's wardrobe, 
 and arrange her hair in a more appropriate fashion ; operations 
 which occupied the first few days very pleasantly, Alice being as 
 fond of dress as any other girl. She also spent her time during 
 this period almost exclusively with the lady's-maid, who 
 occupied a chamber adjoining that of her mistress, Mrs. Stanley 
 being much engaged with visiters and business; and with this 
 companionship Alice was perfectly contented. It was not that 
 she loved Angelique as she loved Linny ; this was rather a case 
 of fascination than love ; and had no better foundation than the 
 girl's personal appearance and lively manner. 
 
 Occasionally, however, Alice was summoned to sit with her 
 aunt, especially after dinner, when Mrs. Stanley happened to dine 
 at home, and without company; but as the tone her discourse as- 
 sumed was generally that of a moral lecture, these interviews were 
 not anticipated with much pleasure. Like young people in general, 
 Alice did not like sermons; nor, except those of the Rev. Mr. 
 Whitelaw, which were exceedingly heavy and commonplace, had 
 she yet heard many. For a long time previous to her death, 
 Mrs. Mearns had been in very ill health, and as she could not 
 bear her out of her sight, Alice, ever since she could remember 
 any thing, had been what is called tied to her mother's apron-
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 129 
 
 string. Her companion all day, and sharing lier room by night, 
 the child had no other companion, nor wished for any. They 
 lived without society, in and for each other; but unconsciously, 
 at least, as regarded one of the parties. Mrs. Mearns was 
 still young when sickness and sorrow overtook her, for she was 
 many years Mrs. Stanley's junior, and she had the remains of 
 great beauty. Gentle, loving, trusting, there had been perfect 
 unity and confidence betwixt the mother and the child, 
 without its ever occuri'ing to Alice that it might possibly 
 have been othei-wise, or that she was making any sacrifice of her 
 own will and libei-ty in relinquishing the pursuits of her age to 
 accommodate herself to those of a melancholy invalid. Out of 
 these circumstances, not by precept, her character had been 
 formed ; or perhaps, it would be more correct to say, her natural 
 disposition had been developed and confirmed. There had been 
 no reproof, no lecturing, no system of moral training. Thus, if 
 Alice was ti-uthful iind honest, it was because nature had inclined 
 her to be so; and because this nature, instead of being compressed 
 out of her by severity or opposition, needful or otherwise, had 
 been allowed to gi-ow into a habit. By the same process, how- 
 ever, another peculiarity of her character was confirmed, namely, 
 an extreme indiiference to every body except the few who cai:>ti- 
 vated her afiections. Her mother had been her idol as long as 
 she survived; and, shortlived as is generally the grief of chil- 
 dren, she was inconsolable at her death, and would probably have 
 continued long so, had not Linny, with exactly the qualities to 
 win her heart, succeeded to the vacant throne — a throne which, 
 indeed, she still filled, although Angelique occupied a good deal of 
 the young girl's thoughts. She amused her, too, with str;mge 
 stories of romantic loves, terminated by a pan of charcoal or the 
 muddy waters of the Seine. 
 
 On Alice's ears Mrs. Stanley's sermonizing fell as upon stones. 
 \Yhen the aunt, anxious to eradicate, if possible, vices of cha- 
 racter which she thought inherent, expatiated on the deformity 
 of lying and thieving, and the beauty of honesty and truth, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Alice sat perfectly insensible to lier eloquence; lier countenance 
 and attitude expressing nothing but ennui; an exhibition of 
 hardness which filled Mrs. Stanley with dismay. If she had 
 only shed tears, there would have been some hope of her ; but 
 this was not the sort of thing that made Alice weep, although 
 Mrs. Stanley's eyes were frequently suifused. The only thing 
 that did touch Alice, was her aunt's telling her, one day, that 
 she could scarcely believe that she was her sister's' child ; "for there 
 never was a softer or more affectionate heart, or a truer nature," 
 said she, " than your poor mother ! " This speech brought a crimson 
 blush into Alice's cheeks; and, as soon as she found herself alone, 
 she laid her head down on the side of the bed and wept 
 bitterly. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Mrs. Stanley was preparing to leave Lon- 
 don; but, before she did so, it was necessary to determine on 
 some plan for her niece's education. Attached to the girl, not 
 by affection, but by a sense of duty, and a promise she had made 
 to her dead sister, she would have preferred placing her at some 
 high-class school to keeping her at home; but how could she 
 think of introducing into a seminary for young people, one who 
 had been already expelled from a similar establishment for dis- 
 graceful conduct! There was another reason, also, why she 
 feared to leave her in London; namely, the apprehension that 
 she might fall into the hands of her father, the object of Mrs. 
 Maude's intense hatred. " An adventurer," as she called him, 
 *' who, having clandestinely won the affections of her sister — mar- 
 rjdng her contrary to the wishes of her family and connexions, 
 had squandered her money in all kinds of vicious indulgences, 
 and rendered her life miserable ; till at length, unable to endure 
 the poverty his folly had entailed, he plunged into crime, in the 
 hope of escaping from his difficulties." 
 
 Erom that period his wife and daughter seldom saw him, and 
 they were doubtless all the happier for the privation, althongh 
 his wife, who still loved him, could not bring herself to think so. 
 He returned, however, sometimes for the sake of being out of the
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 131 
 
 way, and sometimes on the plea of repentance and reformation ; 
 but unfortunately his wife paid dearly for his visits, since he 
 never failed to extract from her every farthing of money she 
 could command — money for which she was indebted to Mrs. 
 Stanley, who, on leaving England, had empowered her agent, 
 IVIr. Jessop, to watch over the welfare — the material welfare, at 
 least, of her sister — and to take care that she and her child 
 wanted for nothing. When INIrs. Mearns died, Mrs. Stanley, 
 who was still abroad, directed that Alice should be placed at a 
 respectable boarding-school till she could conveniently return 
 and determine what to do with her; a point which was yet 
 undecided, when her equanimity was disturbed by a letter 
 which reached her at Biiissels, enclosing Mrs. Barnard's demand 
 for the immediate removal of Miss Mearns from her establish- 
 ment — an event which inexpressibly shocked and grieved Mrs. 
 Stanley, but one which, she asserted, by no means surprised her. 
 
 " I long ago told you," she said in her answer to Mr. Jesso]^, 
 " that I did not believe a child born of that bad stock was likely 
 to turn out well. Major Mearns, the father, was a blackleg, 
 who forfeited his commission by some proceedings of a dishonour- 
 able nature ; and of his three sons, two of whom are happily 
 dead, (I wish the third was also,) it is not easy to say which was 
 the woi-st. The only daughter he had, married a profligate for 
 love, and afterwards, I believe, ran away from. him. In short, 
 as far as I have ever learnt, Meai'ns is only another name for a 
 Vaurien, and evil was the day ours was disgraced by a con- 
 nexion with it ! 
 
 " With regard to this unfortunate child, who has got herself 
 turned out of the school you placed her at, which you see is a 
 sad verification of my presentiment, I am really at a loss what 
 to do. To attempt to introduce her into another, would be 
 unjustifiable; besides which, I fear she will require a more un- 
 remitting surveillance than she can receive in an establishment 
 of that description. I was thinking of placing her in some 
 clergyman's family, but I do not know that in so doing I should
 
 133 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 be strictly fulfilling the promise I made to my sister — that is, 
 not as she understood it. I confess this promise hampers me in 
 some degree ; for although, with it or without it, I should have 
 equally felt myself bound to undertake the maintenance and 
 education of her child, I would, on the whole, rather not have 
 taken her to reside in my house. I believe, however, that for 
 the present that is what I must do ; and it will not very much 
 change my plans, as it is necessary, or at least advisable, that I 
 should spend some time at Craven Hill. I shall, therefore, start 
 for England as soon as I can settle my affairs here ; and, in 
 the mean time, you had better leave Alice where she is till I 
 arrive." 
 
 In this state of perplexity about her niece, Mrs. Stanley took 
 occasion to consult a serious friend of hers, who prescribed a 
 strictly religious education as the appropriate remedy for Alice's 
 moral obliquities. 
 
 " Bring her up in the fear of God !'' said Mrs. Adam Walker; 
 " impress her mind with the sinfulness of sin, and make her 
 acquainted with the awful punishments that God has prepared 
 in the next world for those who do not obey his laws in this;" 
 and as Mrs. Stanley considered Mrs. Adam Walker a very high 
 authority on such questions, she not only yielded to her advice, 
 but she requested her to find a lady competent to take charge of 
 the juvenile delinquent. Mrs. Walker said, that it was the most 
 fortunate thing in the world for Mrs. Stanley, that her — that is, 
 Mrs. Walker's — friend. Miss Bang, happened just then to be 
 disengaged. She had been for some years with Lady Tomlinson, 
 and had given the greatest satisfaction to her ladyship, the whole 
 of whose family she had brought up ; but whom, however, she 
 had quitted on account of an exceedingly unpleasant circumstance 
 that had taken place — namely, that the eldest daughter, Miss 
 Juliana Tomlinson, had run away with the gamekeeper's son, 
 and married him. Whereupon Miss Bang felt it due to herself to 
 quit the family in spite of Lady Tomlinson's entreaties ; but, of 
 course, Miss Bang had her own reputation to look to ; and thus,
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 133 
 
 as Mrs. Adam Walker observed, out of evil good had arisen, as 
 no doubt was always the case, though shortsighted mortals could 
 not discern it. 
 
 " Every thing in this world," she remarked, " was ordered 
 with a beneficent purpose; and she trusted that, through the 
 instrumentality of Miss Bang, the young girl might be early 
 awakened to a sense of sin, and be yet a soul saved from the 
 burning." 
 
 Miss Bang was accordingly engaged at a liberal salary ; and 
 shortly after Mrs. Stanley's removal to Craven Hill, that valuable 
 person arrived there, and was introduced to Alice as her future 
 governess.
 
 134: LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 The rencontre at Calais, betwixt Yaiiglian and Lady Glen- 
 lyon, was not a happy event for either of them, nor for those 
 Avith "whom their fates were now so intimately connected. 
 Kate's discontent and depression were augmented by a sight of 
 tlie man she loved, lost to her for ever; and Yaughan's irrita- 
 bility was aroused by a sight of the splendours that should have 
 been his. He would have been very unwilling to change 
 wives with Sir Arthur; he preferred his OAvn a thousand times; 
 and yet, as the berlin rolled by, a pang of bitterness shot through 
 his breast. It was not delicacy, but mortified pride, that made 
 him shrink back in the diligence ; and, had he been travelling 
 with an equally elegant equipage, I am afraid he would have 
 been by no means unwilling to inflict all the pain he could by 
 showing himself; for, although Sir Arthur Glenlyon was the 
 possessor of Kate Eardley's hand, well Yaughan knew icho 
 reigned in her heart. 
 
 It was not a pleasant journey, therefore, to either party. Her 
 ladyship was sad, and apt to be pettish if not let alone; Sir 
 Arthur was kind but somewhat thoughtful ; whilst Yaughan, 
 appearing to his French fellow-passengers a nice specimen of the 
 genus Anglais, they shrugged their shoulders at him accordingly. 
 Linny would have liked to join in their conversation, but her 
 husband's haughty reserve warned her to be cautious, 
 
 " C'est votre mari ?" whispei-ed an old Frenchwoman. 
 
 " Oui ! " answered Linny. 
 
 " Ha ! " and the old lady felt heartily glad he was not hers; 
 yet Yaughan was a young, handsome man, who could be ex- 
 tremely agreeable when circumstances combined to please him.
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. loO 
 
 There was amongst the company one elderly Frenchman, so 
 full of honhommie and good-humour, that he could not under- 
 stand the sauvagerie of the Englishman; and, after several in- 
 effectual attempts at civility, he offered some chocolate drops 
 that he had bought whilst they were changing horses. Vaughan 
 declined, not only coldly, but as if he considered the well-meant 
 attention a liberty. 
 
 "Ah, il ne connait pas les Anglais!" whispered the others, 
 who conceived it must be something purely national that could 
 account for so much ill-humour in a man possessing Vaughan's 
 external advantages, and a lovely young wife into the bargain ; 
 and I am afraid it is. 
 
 I suppose, however, that men of other countries do occasion- 
 ally behave in this manner, but they are the exceptions and not 
 the rule. They are, I fancy, persons of really ill-temper, or un- 
 kindly feelings, who would be disagreeable under any circum- 
 stances; such as are by the ladies properly called brutes. A 
 gentlemanly, well-conditioned foreigner on his travels, would 
 never think of turning /arowc/ie, and treating every body he met 
 de haut en has; whereas an Englishman, who is a tolerably amiable, 
 tractable person at home, will no sooner cross the channel than 
 he is transformed into a bear. How frequently this is the case, 
 few women who have travelled with father, brother, husband, or 
 son, can be ignorant. Of course, there are exceptions; there are 
 Englishmen who, whilst they are abroad, can so far assimilate 
 themselves to continental customs as to be comfortable and 
 amused themselves, and allow otlier people to be so; and who do 
 not live and move in hourly terror lest their dignity should be 
 attainted by the familiarity of a roturier; a subject, by the by, on 
 which they are apt to fall into the most ridiculous errors, the 
 very honhommie of the foreigner helping to perplex the thin- 
 skinned Englishman. 
 
 Not wishing, for various reasons, to plant himself in a colony 
 of his own countrymen, Yaughan engaged apartments in the 
 Hotel Valmont, Rue de Richelieu ; whilst our other travellers
 
 136 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 establislied themselves sumptuously at Meurice's, where we will 
 leave them awhile to return to poor Mrs. Lockwood who was 
 plunged into the very depths of distress by the continued absence 
 of her husband from his home, whither he had never returned 
 since we left her standing at the parlour window with her head 
 over the blinds, watching for his reappearance. When the night 
 closed in and she could see into the street no longer, her ears took 
 up the service, and hour after hour listened for that well-known 
 foot; but he neither came nor sent her any tidings, and day 
 after day Mr. Eardley's footman, who was desired to make 
 inquiries, carried back the answer that Mrs. Lockwood had 
 heard nothing, till it became the confirmed opinion in Cavendish- 
 square, that the once trusty clerk had embezzled the projjerty 
 and made off with it, either to America or the Continent. His 
 wife, however, took a very different view of the case; she who 
 had witnessed his despair at the loss of the parcel, believed that, 
 unable to encounter the suspicion and obloquy that cei-tainly 
 awaited him, he had sought a refuge beyond the reach of human 
 injustice and error. 
 
 As, in addition to the love she bore him and her natural grief 
 at his loss, she had to bear the pain of the self-reproach for her 
 own neglect which had caused the misfortune, her sufferings 
 were so great that she fell iU and was reduced to death's door; 
 whereupon an acquaintance took upon herself to write to Linny, 
 informing her of her mother's situation and the cause of it, 
 adding that her immediate presence at home was desirable. 
 Linny, however, was by this time safely lodged at the Hotel 
 Valmont ; and the letter, which was addressed to Mrs. Barnard's, 
 was deposited in Daniel's pantry till Miss Lockwood's return, 
 which was daily expected. 
 
 In the mean time, Linny's letter to her father from Calais, 
 confessing her flight and marriage, although silent with regard 
 to the stratagem by which Vaughan had gained his purpose, was 
 lying unopened on the mantelpiece in the parlour, whilst Mi^. 
 Lockwood was up-stairs in bed, struggling for her life; and
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 137 
 
 often, when slie was sufficiently at ease to think of it, wisliing 
 for her daughter's presence. 
 
 When she got better, and was able to leave her room, the maid 
 threw all the letters that had arrived, addressed to Mr. Lock- 
 wood, into the sideboard drawer, from an apprehension that the 
 sight of them would distress her ; and thus it was not till the 
 postman delivered a summons from Mrs. Barnard, requiring 
 Miss Lockwood's immediate return, that the poor mother learned 
 the extent of her misfortune. 
 
 " What," exclaimed Mrs. Harrison, " left Mrs. Barnard's ! 
 Well, I did think it odd she never took no notice of the letter I 
 writ to tell her how ill you was, and about poor Mr. L. But 
 where can she be gone to I " 
 
 Mrs. Lockwood's fears suggested the truth at once — she had 
 eloped with Yaughan Edmonstone; and then the maid exclaim- 
 ing, " Lauk-a-me!" opened the sideboard drawer, saying, that a 
 letter had come while missus was ill, that she had to pay one- 
 and-eightpence for, and that it had struck her it was like miss's 
 handwriting; but as it was directed to master, she had put it 
 aside for the present ; and so forth. 
 
 There had been a time when Mrs. Lockwood wished nothing 
 better than to see her daughter the wife of Yaughan Edmonstone, 
 and she could not forget that she had tacitly countenanced the 
 attachment, contrary to what she knew would have been her 
 husband's wdshes, not that he would have considered, then, the 
 alliance less honourable than herself; but his sense of duty 
 would have forbidden him to encourage a connexion that it was 
 impossible Mr. Edmonstone should consent to. Her desire for 
 this union had naturally ceased with the fall of the Edmonstone 
 family ; but as she had a veiy feminine heart, she could not help 
 pitying the handsome young guardsman, who would have made 
 a lady of her daughter, although she forbore to express this 
 sentiment to her husband, whose aversion to every member of 
 the Edmonstone family was more deeply grounded than even she 
 was aware of
 
 138 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 It is a trite observation, tliat we often obtain the thing we 
 have ardently wished for when we desire it no longer; and 
 Mrs. Lockwood, in her sorrow and self-reproach, scarcely felt 
 herself entitled to be severe on her daughter, when she remem- 
 bered how proud she would once have been to hear her called 
 Mrs. Vaughan Edmonstone; but it was a great addition to her 
 other troubles to have lost Linny, to whom alone she could have 
 looked for consolation and support. 
 
 Linny had been upwards of a month in Paris, daily hoping 
 for a letter from her father, whose length of silence she feared 
 was the measure of his displeasure ; when one day, as they were 
 sitting after dinner with a bottle of Bordeaux on the table, 
 the femme du concierge entered the room, saying, " Voici une 
 lettre pour madame, je crois;" looking at the same time alter- 
 nately at them and the paper with a certain degree of surprise 
 at an event so unprecedented, this being the first letter they had 
 received. 
 
 Linny changed colour as she took it, and looked at the 
 address. 
 
 " It's from mama," she said. " Papa won't write to me." 
 
 "What does the old woman say?" inquired Vaughan; who 
 felt very indifferent on the subject of a reconciliation with his 
 wife's family, with whom he was far from desii'ing to hold any 
 intercourse. 
 
 "She begins, ^ My dear Linny!' That's a good sign!" and 
 then she continued to read on in silence for some time, not being 
 able to disentangle the general signification of the disjointed 
 sentences, inteiTupted as they were by exclamations and inter- 
 jections; for Mrs. Lockwood's letters were at no time distin- 
 guished by perspicuity, and the one in question, having been 
 indited under the influence of great bodily weakness and mental 
 distress, was especially confused and unintelligible. 
 
 " Poor mama has been very ill ; but I can't think what she 
 means about papa. She says, she's afraid he would never forgive 
 me, but that perhaps he may never know it — meaning my mar-
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 139 
 
 i-iage — for that lie left home in a state bordering on distraction, 
 and has never returned, nor can she learn what has become of 
 liim." 
 
 " But what put him in that state?" said Yaughan. 
 
 "She does not explain; nor does she say when he went. 
 How very extraordinary! — is it not? Poor, dear papa! I hope 
 nothing has happened to him ! Good heavens, Vaughan, perhaps 
 he had heard somehow or other that I had left Mrs. Barnard's 
 with you, and it is that has distressed liim so." 
 
 " But your mother says he knows nothing about it." 
 
 " He may not have told her," answered Linny, beginning to 
 weep at the idea of the pain she had inflicted, and her mother's 
 desolation. And, suppose Mr. Lockwood did not return at all, 
 what was to become of his wife? This was a question that 
 occurred to the daughter immediately, but which she did not like 
 to refer to Vaughan, feeling instinctively how very little in- 
 terest he would take in it. 
 
 " Come, come, diy your eyes !" he said, patting her on the head 
 as he rose from the table ; " I dare say the old fellow will turn 
 up, by and by; and it will be all right. Did you tell the porter 
 to get those places ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have the tickets." 
 
 "Is it a good box?" 
 
 " They're in the Balcon." 
 
 "D n!" 
 
 " But the boxes were so extravagantly dear to-night, that I 
 thought it absurd when w^e can see and hear just as well in the 
 Balcon." 
 
 " But if I desire to have a box, what business has that fellow 
 to take tickets for another part of the house?" 
 
 " Well, dear Yaughan, it was my fault. I hadn't given him 
 money enough ; and when he came back and told me the price, 
 I desii-ed him to take tickets for the Balcon. I'm sure it's a 
 very good place. You see much better than in the boxes, / 
 think, and are not so hot."
 
 UO LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " But it's not a place I choose to be seen in." 
 
 "Why? Is it improper?" 
 
 " Improper — no ; but mauvais ton. I had rather stay at home 
 than sit there." 
 
 " WeU, I dare say Badin could sell the tickets for us ; he 
 says they're in great request, and he had much ado to get them 
 at all." 
 
 Vaughan, however, did not wish to stay at home; there was 
 a new ballet that he wanted to see, and he liked the excitement 
 of the theatre; but he could not be content with seeing and 
 hearing well, unless he sat in what he considered the most 
 fashionable pai-t of the house. Linny thought this very silly, 
 and she tried to laugh him out of it; representing that nobody 
 in Paris could care sixpence where they sat; but there are 
 people in the world who never can realise the indifference of 
 society to their movements, and who live under the constant 
 inconvenience of fancying that the eyes of the public are upon 
 them. Probably, when Yaughan was rich, he had not been 
 troubled with this susceptibility, and as it would not have been 
 motives of economy that drove him to the Balcon, he would 
 have sat there without discomposure. Now, however, he could 
 not, although surrounded by very good company. The conscious- 
 ness that the box tickets were twenty francs each on that night, 
 whilst he was very well seated for nine, could not console him ; 
 for he fancied that every body would conclude he had selected 
 the cheaper place because he could not afford the dearer. Evefry 
 hody is a dreadful person ; but who is he, I wonder? Is he at all 
 public places observing where one sits, and spying at the panels 
 of one's carriage to ascertain whether it is one's own or a retnise ? 
 And what does he do if he discovers that we ride in a fiacre, and 
 take tickets at nine francs instead of twenty? I should like to 
 have this question answered; because as he is in the habit of 
 putting people to considerable expenses, which seem otherwise 
 needless, I should be glad to learn what would be the conse- 
 quences of slighting his opinion. If any one will tell me, I shall
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 141 
 
 be much obliged to tliem, because it is as well to know the 
 worst ; and besides, the nature of the penalty once ascertained, 
 as also v/ho are the parties that have authority to inflict it, 
 means might possibly be found of evading, if not defying, a 
 tyranny so fraught with mischief For my own part, I shall be 
 exceedingly happy to join in a conspiracy against this despotic 
 meddler in other people's affairs; ha\-ing at various times been 
 put to serious expenses by his interference in my family arrange- 
 ments; whilst in the course of my life I have seen many worthy 
 people ruined, and actually reduced from affluence to want, by 
 his absurd and unfeeling exigeance. 
 
 Up to the present period, Linny had lived in happy ignorance 
 of the existence of this despot ; she was probably beneath his 
 notice, and her obscurity had preserv^ed her from his piying 
 eyes; but now he occasioned her daily inconvenience, and was 
 the cause of many disagreements betwixt herself and her husband. 
 Had Linny married a rich man, she would have had no diffi- 
 culty in adopting the manners and habits of a fine lady; but, 
 unacquainted as she was with tlie extent of Yaughan's pecuniary 
 means, or the source of tliem, she was yet aware they must be 
 limited; and she accordingly felt that the economy which had 
 necessarily been the habit of her life, was still a duty. Yaughan, 
 however, had very obscure notions of economy. As a general 
 rule of conduct for those who were not rich, he admitted its pro- 
 priety; but in particular instances he abhon'ed it. In the first 
 place, he liked the best of every thing; and the best of every 
 thing is generally dear, especially to young men, who usually 
 estimate the goodness of a thing by what it costs ; and in the 
 second place, in those instances which, not personally concerning 
 himself, might have left him more indiflerent, he felt compelled 
 to accede to the requisitions of every body, whose ai^probation is 
 unfortunately not to be purchased without considerable expense, 
 even in such Httle matters as could onlvcome under the coirnizance 
 of the concierge and his wife. Thus Linny's laudable attempts 
 at frugality, were generally fnistrated by her husband, who, pro-
 
 142 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 bably suspecting these people of being in league'with every hody, 
 would declare that it looked so d d shabby. 
 
 " But, dear Yaughan, you know best, certainly ; but I am 
 afraid we are spending a great deal of money." 
 
 "But how can we help it? If you'll show me how we can 
 live without spending money, I'll be much obliged to you ! " 
 
 " But without spending so much ? Surely we need not have a 
 poulet or cutlets every morning for breakfast, for example ; and 
 we might have fewer p^a^s at dinner. And then there's another 
 thing; why can't I walk instead of always having a caniage? I 
 had rather walk a thousand times, I assure you." 
 
 '• It's not the custom ; ladies don't walk in Paris. It would 
 look very odd." 
 
 "But I'm a stranger — a foreigner; what does it signify?" 
 
 " But I don't choose that every body should be making 
 remarks on my wife." 
 
 " My dear Vaughan, think how insignificant we are in this 
 great city ! Surely the people must have something better to do 
 than to observe whethei* I go out on foot or in a carriage." 
 
 But Vaughan could not realize the fact of this general indif- 
 ference, and when his reasons failed him, his will supplied their 
 j)lace — pro rations volentas, he did not choose it, and so the argu- 
 ment always terminated by his wife's better sense succumbing. 
 ■ On the night above alluded to, when the young couj^le were 
 seated in the Balcon at the French opera, Yaughan espied Lady 
 Glenlyon and her husband in a box at some distance from them ; 
 Kate in the most recherchee toilet, and looking exceedingly 
 pretty, though pervaded by an air of languor and indifference, 
 which, vanity whispered, would have been less remarkable had 
 he been beside her instead of Sir Arthur. When there was 
 nothing very attractive going on upon the boards, she sat with 
 her lorgnette to her eye, surveying the company in the boxes, 
 and then Yaughan rather rejoiced than otherwise that he was 
 not amongst them; for, although he would have had no objec- 
 tion to her descrying himself, he did not think that Linny, on
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 143 
 
 comparing her with the fashionable women present, was suffi- 
 ciently well dressed. That in point of beauty she excelled them 
 all, he felt satisfied, but in point of style she certainly fell short 
 of the best models; and even of Lady Glenlyon herself, though 
 she was an Englishwoman : so that on the following day he 
 sent her to refit herself at Hubert and Victorine's, desiring she 
 would provide herself with a proper toilette de theatre. Linny 
 did it very unwillingly; for she was tenified at the sound of a 
 hundred francs for a bonnet, three times as much for a dress — a 
 weakness which, as she could not successfully conceal it, naturally 
 inspired the distinguished artistes who sold them with contempt. 
 However, she made her purchases, that is, she bought a bonnet 
 and ordered a dress, and, as the corsage of the latter was to be 
 tried on, Madame Hubert desired to know the name and address 
 of her customer. 
 
 "Madame Yaughan Edmonstone, Hotel Yalmont, Rue de 
 Richelieu," she replied. " Here is my card ! " 
 
 As she turned to leave the room immediately afterwards, her 
 eyes met those of a lady who was standing before one of the 
 miiTors with a coifiure of flowers on her head. Her features 
 were pale and fixed, and she seemed to have forgotten the 
 flowers to stare in the glass at Linny, who, as she descended the 
 staii's, heard Madame Hubert say, " C'est charmant, cela, miladi."
 
 144 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 How many women would escape mischief in this world, if 
 they could escape jealousy ! The pangs of disappointed love are 
 hard enough to bear at the best j but they are not maddening, 
 till jealousy has infused its venom into the wound. A tender 
 melancholy, lassitude, indifference to the pleasures of society, 
 are the well-known symptoms of what may be called the mild 
 stage, or, as the doctors would denominate it, the benignant 
 form of this disorder; and of this malady, that eminent physician 
 Time, in most cases, perfects the cure within a reasonable period. 
 Infuse, however, but a single drop of jealousy — real, genuine 
 unadulterated jealousy — into the veins, and the character of the 
 disease becomes malignant immediately; symptoms of the most 
 virulent nature, too, frequently appear; and the unfortunate 
 patient is hurried to destruction before the soothing influences 
 of time can come to her aid. 
 
 Catherine Eardley, as I have remarked, had consented to 
 become Lady Glenlyon chiefly for the sake of variety and a little 
 excitement — no uncommon expedient amongst those who are 
 suffering from either forms of this disorder; and, during the 
 preparations for the union, the daily and almost hourly selection 
 of beautiful articles for the trousseau, and the earnest consulta- 
 tions with the artists who were preparing them, had certainly 
 operated beneficially. This engrossing affair completed, how- 
 ever, and nothing left to do but to go to church, the excitement 
 subsided, and the lassitude, indifference, and depression, re- 
 turned ; and continued, as we have seen, after the ceremony, in 
 spite of the change from Cavendish-square to Calais. But Paris 
 is an entrancing place to a pretty woman who has money enough
 
 LINXY LOCEWOOD. 145 
 
 to indulge her fancies, and rank enough to obtain an entre 
 into the best society ; insomuch that, being possessed of these 
 advantages. Lady Glenlyon was beginning to find her time and 
 thoughts so constantly engrossed, that she had daily less and 
 l&ss of them to bestow on Yaughan Edmonstone and her regrets. 
 I really do not believe — she had that morning found on her break- 
 fast-table a card for the Duchess of Montenegro's ball — that on 
 the day she so unfortunately came across Linny at Madame 
 Hubert's, whither she had driven without delay, to order a 
 coiffure for the occasion, the existence of her quondam lover had 
 so much as once recurred to her mind; and as Sir Arthur 
 Glenlyon was a quiet, sensible, indeed somewhat philosophically 
 minded man, who was not disposed to plague her — for, beginning 
 to suspect that he had made a mistake in the choice of his wife, 
 he did not think it advisable to aggravate the mischief prema- 
 turely, by either too much love or too much severity — the 
 chances are that she would gradually have become so absorbed 
 in the pleasures of her new mode of life, that the memory of her 
 old soiTow would have imperceptibly died out. But, alas ! the 
 fates were against her ; the aspic's tooth had touched the healing 
 wound; and the pain she had felt even in the first flash of her 
 disappointment, was tame and bearable to the pangs that racked 
 her now. 
 
 Yaughan Edmonstone married ! So soon ! and to such a 
 pretty woman ! Had it been to an ugly one, or had he chained 
 himself to grey hairs and wrinkles, there would have been some 
 consolation ; for then it would have been reasonable to suppose 
 that he had either sold himself for money, or that he had run 
 his head into the noose in a fit of blind despair; and, in either 
 case, he would probably have not only neglected, but hated his 
 wife. The sight of Linny, alas ! shut the door to this source of 
 comfort. She might have money, or she might have none ; but 
 she was not a woman to be easily hated ; and indeed Kate felt a 
 painful conviction that Yaughan's wife was a great deal hand- 
 somer than hei-self ; though, at the same time, it was consoling to 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 observe, that she was deficient in that air of fashion which 
 familiarity with the world of fasliion alone can give. 
 
 This, however, was but a small drop of balm in the cup which 
 was otherwise all of gall; and Lady Glenlyon drove home that 
 day with her heart full of bitterness. And the anticipated 
 splendours of the Duchess of Montenegro's ball, and the gorgeous 
 wreaths she had been selecting to adorn her own pretty head, 
 were dimmed and faded by the aroma of the orange-flowers with 
 which love had bound the brows of that strange woman. 
 
 Who could she be? where had he picked her up"? She felt that 
 she should like to encounter him, and ask him the question. 
 Before, she had not wished to meet him ; prudence had whispered 
 her that it was better not. Sir Arthur occasionally mentioned 
 that he had seen Vaughan at Galignani's and different places of 
 public resort, and she had once or twice caught a glimpse of 
 liim as she drove through the Boulevards; but she had always 
 instinctively drawn back. Her humour was changed now. Slie 
 wondered if he was rich or poor ! Poor he must be, unless his 
 wife had brought him money ; and she recollected with pleasure 
 that the only carriage she had seen that day at Madame Hubert's 
 door was a fiacre. She hoped he was poor, for she knew he was 
 a man to writhe under poverty; and so, perhaps, when he saw 
 her with her elegant equipage and liveried servants, he might 
 regret Cattie Eardley, although he had such a beautiful young 
 wife. 
 
 And yet, in spite of all this, Lady Glenylon was not a bad 
 woman, she had not what is called a bad heart, she was not 
 malignant, and she had never sought to do any body harm ; but 
 she was jealous; and, of all the devils that enter into woman, 
 jealousy I take to be the worst. 
 
 When Sir Ai-thur met his wife at dinner that day, he found her 
 tuned to a new key. He was some ten or twelve years older than 
 her; and when he had known her as a girl, first entering into 
 the world, she was a gay, lively, impulsive, young creature ; not 
 remarkable for prudence, and rather self-willed — one of those
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 147 
 
 young ladies who mean no harm — think no evil — but yet are 
 somewhat difficult for mamas to manage. Sir Arthur admired 
 her even then — men are often fascinated by characters that con- 
 trast most strongly with their own; and might probably, in due 
 time, have proposed, had not an accident whilst hunting, which 
 produced an affection of the chest, exiled him for some years 
 from his country. When he, at length, returned with recovered 
 health, and found Miss Eardley more grave and graceful than he 
 had left her, and still umnanied, his former penchant revived, 
 and, without giving himself time to form an intimate acquain- 
 tance with her disposition, he offered her his hand, and was ac- 
 cepted. Then came the pleasing hurry of preparation that had 
 temporarily supplied the place of real content; and it was not 
 till the knot was indissolubly tied, that he saw any reason to 
 suppose his bride was not all he had imagined and wished. And 
 yet Catherine Eardley had been guilty of no deception; from 
 first to last she had not taken the smallest pains to disguise her 
 feelings. Whilst her mind was amused, she appeared cheerful; 
 when the amusement ceased, she appeared sad. At first, Sir 
 Arthur thought her spirits might be affected by leaving her 
 home and family, although painful suspicions of some deeper 
 source of discontent not unfrequently occurred to him. 
 
 When, however, he found her cheerfulness gradually returning 
 in Paris, his hopes revived ; and, applauding liimself for the pru- 
 dence he had exercised in forbearing to trouble her with question 
 or reproach, he began to hope that a happier future awaited him 
 than he had lately dared to expect, resolving at the same time 
 to court Hymen's smiles by a judicious perseverance in the 
 same wise system of indulgence; and it was fortunate that he 
 had ; for on the day of the ill-omened visit to Madame Hubert's, 
 he, for the first time, found his wife in a fit of extreme ill-temper. 
 Formerly, she had pained him by her depression and listless in- 
 difference, but now she was evidently vexed and angry; although, 
 when he inquired if any thing had happened to annoy her, she 
 indignantly denied it. Of course, he was not convinced; but,
 
 148 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 adhering to his system, he pressed her no farther, notwithstanding 
 that the impatience and irritability continued with little abate- 
 ment. That the young man he had just left reading the news- 
 paper, and sipping a cup of chocolate in the Cafe Wagram, was 
 in any way connected with the rise or fall of his domestic 
 barometer, never occurred to him. How should it? When he 
 went abroad, Vaughan was a stripling, who had only just got 
 his commission, and Kate, a young lady in her first season. 
 When he returned, the Edmonstones were not only ruined, but 
 forgotten. They had furnished their quota of diversion to the 
 world; firstly, in their prosperity, when they entertained it 
 with dinners and balls; and lastly, in their adversity, when, with 
 a damaged reputation and empty pockets, they vanished from 
 the public eye, and were the nine days' wonder of the society in 
 which they had shone resplendent. After that, nobody thought 
 any more about them. The Prince of Castelcicala had married 
 Miss Tomkins, the rich tallow-merchant's daughter ; Lady Grimes 
 had run away with her own footman ; Lord and Lady YelKcouert 
 had separated a week after their marriage, nobody could discover 
 why; Sir Frederick Foster had shot himself, because he found 
 he had made a shocking bad book for the Derby ; and a hundred 
 other tliino^s had occurred to throw the Edmonstones and their 
 affairs completely into the shade. Sir Arthur Glenlyon had 
 had no curiosity about people of whom he had known but little; 
 whilst Vaughan, being several years his junior, had not fallen 
 much in his way. In short, he had gone abroad before either 
 of the young people had come out, full fledged, into the world ; 
 and, consequently, knew nothing of the love-passages betwixt 
 them. Few persons, indeed, did; there had been a rumour that 
 they were to be married, but whether founded, or not, was un- 
 certain, the Eardley family having sedulously contradicted it ; 
 till, with the fall of the Edmonstones, it had died away. There 
 were, doubtless, a few persons farther in the secret, and who 
 believed that Kate Eardley had been crossed in love; but people 
 in general thought her incapable of so vulgar a thing as a strong
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 149 
 
 attacliment ; and, on tlie whole, nobody was in the least surprised 
 ^^'hen her approaching maiTiage to Sir Ai-thur was announced. 
 To him, therefore, Yaughan was no more than the son of Mr. 
 Eardlej's late partner, and, therefore, necessarily an old acquaint- 
 ance of his wife's ; and the well-assumed indifference with which 
 she had heard of their meeting at Calais, was not calculated to 
 awaken the slightest suspicion or curiosity with regard to him.
 
 150 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 It is possible that if the Fates had been so considerate as to 
 keep Vaughan Edmonstone out of her way, the succession of balls, 
 and soirees, and operas, which the heau-nionde of Paris kindly 
 administered, might, in process of time, have brought some 
 amelioration of those jealous pangs awakened in the breast of 
 Lady Glenlyon by the sight of Linny's fair face. But these 
 fatal sisters, or her evil genius, or whoever it may be that takes 
 such matters in hand, appeared bent on mischief For once that 
 she had met him before that unfortunate rencontre at Madame 
 Plubert's, she now met him ten times. 
 
 I wonder what Chance is ! La Place and other learned folks 
 tell us there is no such tiling as chance ; that every thing is 
 certain; and that events only appear to us fortuitous, because 
 we do not see the chain of circumstances that has led to such or 
 such inevitable conclusions. No doubt of it. But how is it 
 that the links of these chains arrange themselves, or are arranged, 
 in an order so favourable to some people, and so unfavourable to 
 others, that these persons become known as notoriously lucky or 
 unlucky? The answer will be, that "character is destiny," and 
 that people are lucky or unlucky in proportion to their judg- 
 ment and prudence, or the want of these qualities. But this 
 explanation does not comprehend the whole of the mystery. It 
 is a well-known fact that there are some individuals, and men 
 of unimpeached honour too, so inconceivably lucky at games of 
 pure chance — by which I mean games in which no skill whatever 
 can be exercised — that the hell -keepers, in spite of the known 
 advantage they themselves possess over the players, dread the
 
 LIXNT LOCKWOOD. 151 
 
 sight of tliem, and if possible close their doors, or fly from the 
 place as soon as they arrive in it ; being well aware of the fatal 
 consequences that follow a visit from these favourites of Fortune. 
 How is it, also — and whoever has plaved much at cards must 
 have occasionally seen something of the kind — that there are 
 certain people who are in\'incible at whiijt, for example, not by 
 
 good play, but by good hands 1 I remember a Mr, and Mrs. G , 
 
 and a Mr. and Mrs. A ^ who, being neighbours, were in the habit 
 
 of meeting two or three times a week to enjoy a nibber; and I 
 remember that this arrangment, extremely agi-eeable to both 
 parties, was at length most unwillingly relinquished by the 
 
 A s, in consequence of the extraordinary partiality of Fortune. 
 
 In the matter of skill the two parties were pretty nearly equal ; 
 but the run of the cards was something inexplicable. Trumps 
 
 and court cards followed the G s, not only from seat to seat, 
 
 round the table, but from house to house. They came, they 
 saw, they conquered ; or, in other words, they sat, they played, 
 they wonj 
 
 On the whole, I confess myself a believer in luck, although 
 what luck is it is impossible to conceive; but, whatever it may 
 be, at the period I write of, it seemed bent on bringing about an 
 interview betwixt Vaughan Edmonstone and Lady Glenlyon; 
 an object which the former was not at all disposed to second. 
 On the contrary, he avoided as much as possible these frequent 
 rencontres \idth a person the sight of whom was fraught with 
 painful regrets and present mortifications. Living, as he was 
 doing now, an jour le jour, desiring neither to recall the past 
 nor anticipate the future, it was annoying to be met at every 
 turn by one who reminded him so forcibly of all he had lost in 
 fortune and position; whilst his dislike to her, and his resent- 
 ment at the insult he had received on her account, made him 
 scorn and repudiate the sympathy which he did not doubt she 
 would be ready enough to bestow. 
 
 When they met on the Boulevards now. Lady Glenlyon did not 
 throw herself back in her carriage, and pretend not to see him ;
 
 152 LIXXT LOCKWOOD. 
 
 slie bent forward and tried to catcli his eye. If slie saw Kim ia 
 the theatre, she placed herself in a position that enabled her 
 to watch his movements; and, instead of attending to the scene, 
 her lorgnette was directed all the evening to where he sat — - 
 sometimes with Linny; on which occasions she would go home 
 in a fever of jealousy. She was resolved now to speak to 
 him, if she could get the opportunity; and twice she nearly 
 succeeded — once at the Louvre^ when she came behind him as 
 he was looking at one of Raphael's frescoes; but he suddenly 
 turned round, and with a distant bow, as to a stranger for 
 whom he made way, walked hastily out of the room. Another 
 time they almost ran against one another in the Rue de la Paix, 
 as she came out of Bassot's the jeweller. Just as she was about 
 to step into her carriage, Yaughan had liis hand on the shop 
 door, and would have entered had not her eagerness betrayed 
 her intention to follow him in ; but the moment he saw who 
 it was, he crossed the street, and was presently beyond her 
 reach. 
 
 Such an open expression of aversion as this, may be thought suf- 
 ficient to cool any woman's ardour ; and perhaps it might have 
 cooled Lady Glenlyon's — though even that is by no means certain 
 — if she could have persuaded herself to put the true constmction 
 on it ; but of course she did not. It was resentment, jealousy, 
 mortified pride — any thing but dislike. If she could only speak 
 to him — if he would but give her an oppoitunity of explaining 
 the feelings and motives that had led to her marriage with Sir 
 Arthur — if she could but convince him that it was entii^ely his 
 own fault that he was not at that moment master of herself and 
 of her fortune — she fancied there would be a re-aetion ; his love 
 for her would revive — and perhaps it might, if he had ever en- 
 tertained any; he would be overwhelmed with regret at Lis own 
 folly, and perhaps be disposed to look with distaste on the bonds 
 that united him to another. And what then? Lady Glenlyon 
 did not know, did not inquire. All she saw, or thought she saw, 
 was, that Vaughan would then no longer be happy without her;
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 153 
 
 and, althouf^^h lie could not be happy with her, no other woman 
 would enjoy the privilege of making his felicity. So that the 
 sum of the whole was, that she would have the consolation of 
 knowing that the man she loved was miserable. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Yaughan's felicity was not altogether so 
 pure that she need have been anxious to alloy it. In the first 
 place, his money was gi-adually melting away, and he saw no 
 prospect of replenishing his purse. Then, although Linny was 
 as pretty, as amiable, and as devoted as he coukl desire, they had 
 theu' squabbles like other people; the sole subject of discord, how- 
 ever, being that fertile one above mentioned — money. Every biU 
 that came in frightened Linny, and made her husband angry; 
 and of course as he grew poorer, he grew more irritable. Of 
 course, too, the amount of the bills was always much greater 
 than he had anticipated. When Linny represented that they 
 could do without certain luxuries and indulgences, Yaughan al- 
 ways declared not only that he must have them, and that every 
 body had them, but also that the difference of expense they occa- 
 sioned was a mere trifle. He was sure he did not owe Jonquil, 
 the pei-fumer, fifty francs. He had only had some Eau de Co- 
 logne, and a few bottles of that Bouquet d'Esterhazy, and some 
 of that Ore me to make his hair grow ; and a few other trifling 
 things. 
 
 "And those ivory hair biiishes, Yaughan? Didn't you get 
 them there? I'm sure they must be a hundi-ed francs, at least." 
 
 " I forgot them. But they're things one don't want again, 
 you know." 
 
 " And gloves ? Some of those gloves you had when first we 
 came were from Jonquil. I'm cei-tain you owe him more than 
 you are aware o£ And then there's Benoit's biU to pay ! " 
 
 " I haven't had much at Benoit's." 
 
 " Indeed you have, Yaughan. Yon forget what you've had. 
 There are those fine cambric handkerchiefe." 
 
 " Only a dozen ! " 
 
 *'And the cambric shii-t-fi-'onts, and those chemisettes you
 
 154: LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 bought for mej and I don't know what besides. And then 
 there's Provin and Masson to be paid." 
 
 "Well, my dear Linny, you wouldn't wish me to appear in 
 things that are not fit for a gentleman to wear, would you 1 " 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know what a gentleman ought to wear, 
 Yaughan; but I'm sure a gentleman had better not wear what 
 he can't afford. And then, my dear Yaughan, I'm sure that 
 wine we're drinking is very expensive." 
 
 " At all events you're wi'ong there ! Soissons said it w^as only 
 four francs a bottle." 
 
 " I beg your pardon ! That was the other ; the wine you said 
 you didn't like. My own opinion is, that he said this was 
 seven." 
 
 " Nonsense ! you're thinking of the wine we had at the Quatre 
 Freres. TJuU was seven." 
 
 " Well, I wish you may find I'm not right ; but I'm pretty 
 sure I am ; and I shall send to-morrow for the bill, and then we 
 shall see." 
 
 '•You needn't trouble yourself I'll call myself, and ask 
 
 Soissons." And here Yaughan would look cross, mutter, " D 
 
 it ! " and either take up Galiyoiani or walk to the window. 
 
 Similar scenes were often repeated; and when the bills came 
 in, and their amount justified Linny's predictions, their mutual 
 vexation generally gave rise to another squabble. 
 
 " I knew I was right, Yaughan. I was certain Monsieur 
 Soissons said that wine was seven francs." 
 
 " It can't be ! Why, the wine we had yesterday at Beauvilliers', 
 for four, was better — considerably better. It must be a mis- 
 take." 
 
 " You'll find it's no mistake. I remember perfectly his say- 
 ing it was seven francs." 
 
 " Then he's a d d rascal ; that's all I can say ! I'll engage 
 
 to get as good wine as that any where in Paris for four francs. 
 Cheating scoundrel ! " 
 
 " Then, my dear Yaughan, why do you put it in people's
 
 LIN"N*Y LOCKWOOD. 155 
 
 power to cheat you so? Why won't you ask the price of 
 things 1 " 
 
 " I did ask the price, and I could take my oath the fellow said 
 four francs ! " 
 
 " He didn't, indeed, Yaughan ; he said seven. And you know 
 it's the way with every thing. The fact is, you're too proud to 
 ask the price of things." 
 
 " I know what you'd Kke — you'd like me to haggle, and 
 bargain, and beat people down, as women do in a haberdasher's 
 shop." 
 
 " No, I would not, Yaughan." 
 
 " Yes, you would. That's the idea women have of economy. 
 I'd rather go without a thing " 
 
 " Well, Yaughan, that's precisely what I want you to do." 
 
 " Yes, of course you. do. You'd like me to wear a blue- 
 checked shirt and cotton gloves." 
 
 " My dear Yaughan ! " 
 
 " Upon my soul, I believe you would ! because they're cheap. 
 I can tell you Linny, there's nothing so impolitic as letting 
 people think you're poor. If we are poor, don't let the world 
 know it. Every body in society spends more money than they 
 can afford." 
 
 " Then I think every body in society is very foolish ; and I'm 
 quite sure, Yaughan, that when your money is all gone, you'll be 
 very sorry." 
 
 "Yery weU; wait tiU it is. It isn't gone yet; and, at all 
 events, it's my own, and I've a right to spend it as I like." 
 
 " Oh! certainly; if you like to ruin yourself, you must. It's 
 not for myself I speak, Yaughan, for I can bear poverty much 
 better than you can. I"m used to it." 
 
 Exit Linny, with the tears in her eyes, leaving Yaughan in a 
 veiy bad humour.
 
 156 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 It must be admitted, and it is only fair to Vaiiglian to admit 
 it at once, that it is a dreadful trial to a young man who has 
 been brought up in affluence, and accustomed to what is called 
 the best society, to find himself redaced to straitened means, and 
 unable to hold his position. If Yaughan, instead of being the 
 son of a banker, who was the son of a country gentleman, had 
 been the son of a peer, the pecuniary misfortune would have been 
 more bearable; but the Edmonstones had neither noble blood 
 nor high alliances to keep their heads above water, with poverty 
 and dishonour clinging to their skirts. Many and bitter were 
 the mortifications Vaughan had endured betwixt the period of 
 his father's fall and his own flight from England ; and, though 
 less frequent, he was not altogether spared similar pangs in Paris. 
 Young men feel these things with terrible acuteness, and no 
 wonder. All their limited experience of Hfe generally tends to 
 the convietion, that there is nothing in it worth having but the 
 privileges that fortune and position give ; and, with the kind of 
 education and habits they have, it is tnie that, these lost, few of 
 them have any thing left. All honour to them whose principles 
 survive this great trial ! Yaughan, unfortunately, was not of 
 that number. Formerly he would not for the world have been 
 guilty of any action that could be considered unbecoming a 
 man of honour and a gentleman. It was not till he had no 
 longer the means of keeping his ground with those he had been 
 accustomed to Hve with, that he discovered what an accom- 
 modating virtue this honour was, and how ready to bend to 
 cu'cumstances. Not without a pang though was this discovery 
 made; it cost him, indeed, a great many when he reflected that
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 157 
 
 tlie position which, in the first instance, he had lost by his 
 father's fault, he had now. forfeited by his own. But reflect is 
 not the word — he shunned reflection; it was in spite of himself 
 that the thought would intrude; and when it did, he always 
 blushed, and chased it away as fast as he could, endeavouring to 
 sustain himself with the consideration, that nobody knew, or 
 could ever know, that he had been guilty of a dishonourable 
 action; and hoping, rather than resolving, that he might never 
 be tempted to commit another. 
 
 He had often been in Paris before, and, when there, was to be 
 met in all the first houses, French and English, To a few, 
 chiefly amongst the French, he went still; but it was with a 
 certain degree of misgiving — his own conscience, his precarious 
 means, and the coolness with which he had been latterly greeted 
 in London by some of his former companions, rendered these 
 parties scenes of at least as much pain as pleasure. Then, how- 
 ever, he had disappeared from his club, was frequenting inferior 
 coffee-houses and taverns, and was often ill dressed. ISTow, he dined 
 at Beauvilliers' and Yery's ; and was as well dressed as any body. 
 Still he had not ventured, as formerly, to leave his card in the 
 Faubourg St. Honore, and was consequently never seen there; 
 this circumstance subjected him to a number of small annoy- 
 ances, since of course the change in his circumstances was not 
 known to every body. 
 
 " I did not see you at the ambassador's last night." 
 
 " I was not there." 
 
 " Shall I call for you, as I pass to-morrow-evening? Of course, 
 you're going to the ambassador's ball?" 
 
 '' Thank ye, I'm not going." And when answers of this sort' 
 came to be repeated very often, attention was dii-ected to the 
 circumstance; conclusions were drawn, and Yaughan found him- 
 self by degrees losing the footing in society he had hitherto 
 retained. It would be difficult to describe the anguish of heart 
 this gradual process of exclusion occasioned him — he that had 
 once been as exclusive as any body, and cut many a poor devil
 
 158 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 because, for some reason or another, he was losing caste — never 
 troubling himself to think of the pain he inflicted, or whether 
 the exclusion was just or unjust. Now, he felt the cruelty of 
 the thing acutely — the cruelty and the i7ijustice1 And then 
 conscience would whisper sometliing, reminding him of a small 
 reckoning betwixt him and it. 
 
 All this time he was not known in that remnant of the 
 fashionable world he mixed in as a married man ; the ladies were 
 ignorant of Linny's existence, or supposed to be so. To his male 
 acquaintance he did not deny that he was married, but he never 
 declared positively that he was so. If, however, he introduced 
 Linny to any one, it was always as Mrs. VaugJian Edmonstone. 
 People thought what they pleased. Perhaps it was a runaway 
 match, or a mesalliance; perhaps neither one nor the other. At 
 all events she was " devilish handsome ! " 
 
 In the mean time, the money flew; and, as mortifications of the 
 nature above described became more frequent, tradesmen grew 
 more pressing. They always do. Nor was Vaughan's situation 
 quite unknown to Lady Glenlyon, who, moving in the elite of 
 society, to her vexation never met him in the salons she fre- 
 quented; but Sir Arthur reported to her the gossip he heard, 
 and generally with some expresson of pity for the subject of it, 
 whilst his wife avowed her detestation of the world's injustice. 
 
 "Poor young man!" she said; "it was not his fault; and it 
 is certainly very hard that society should punish him for his 
 father's delinquencies. He must be very badly ofi", I've no doubt ; 
 and it is cruel of people to add to his misfortunes by turning 
 their backs upon him. I wish, Glenlyon, you would call upon 
 him." 
 
 " I can't do that, because, in the first place, I never knew 
 him well enough to authorize me to do such a thing; and, in the 
 second place, we have not even exchanged bows for a long time. 
 I bowed to him when I saw him at Dessin's ; but when we met 
 here, he either did not remember me — or did not wish to re- 
 member me ; and we never take any notice of each other."
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 159 
 
 One day that tlie rain was falling in torrents, Sii' Artliiir, on 
 hearing his wife's carriage announced, asked her if she would set 
 him down in the E-ue Yivienne. 
 
 "I will," she said, "and perhaps I may call for you again 
 when I've done my shopping." 
 
 Accordingly, about four o'clock, Lady Glenlyon drove to 
 Galignani's, and sent in her footman to infonn Sir Arthur she 
 was waiting. 
 
 The rain had now nearly ceased, but there were several 
 carriages and cabriolets in the court waiting for their masters, 
 half a dozen of whom were standing at the door chattering 
 together, whilst preparing to mount their several vehicles; and 
 amongst them was Sir Bryan 0' Grady, who, being formerly an 
 intimate acquaintance of the Edmonstone family, and a frequent 
 visiter at Marlow, brought back many recollections of old times 
 and old scenes to Kate's mind, as she reclined in the comer of 
 her coitpe and observed him. Just at that crisis a fiacre drove 
 into the court, and stopped behind Lady Glenlyon's carriage, out 
 of which stepped Vaughan Edmonstone, who, seeing O'Grady, 
 whom he had not chanced to meet since they sat together at liis 
 own father s table, advanced holding out his hand, and saying, 
 " Ah ! O'Grady! I did know you were in Paris;" but, instead 
 of giving his hand, the Irishman coldly raised his hat, stepping 
 back to make way for him to pass. Vaughan felt the slight to 
 his heart's core, and the rather that there were so many specta- 
 tors, some of whom were not unknown to him; and he was 
 just thinking whether he should not tread on O'Grady's heels, 
 and try to get up a quarrel, when a voice from the elegant 
 equipage at the door, which he had not particularly observed, 
 cried, " Oh, Mr. Edmonstone ! Vaughan ! won't you come and 
 speak to me*?" 
 
 The timely support was too precious to be rejected, and in a 
 moment he was ^t the door of the carriage, shaking hands with 
 all the familiarity of other days. 
 
 "If you are not very anxious to read the papers just now,"
 
 160 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 she said in a low voice, " do come in, and let me drive you home, 
 or wherever you want to go ! " 
 
 " Thank you : I will. The steps were let down ; and, as he 
 seated himself beside Lady Glenlyon, she added, " is there any 
 place you wish to go to?" 
 
 " None particularly." 
 
 " Drive to the Bois de Boulogne — Dear Yaughan!" she con- 
 tinued, " how glad I am to meet you at last ! It is not my fault 
 that we have not met before ; but I really began to think you 
 avoided me!" 
 
 Under other circumstances he would probably have answered, 
 "So I did!" but he had just become aware of the services she 
 had it in her power to render him ; and, sacrificing his sincerity 
 to his interests, he replied, " Was it not better I should do so, 
 Cattiel Better for us both." 
 
 " Certainly not," she answered ; " for your conduct has given 
 me a great deal of needless pain. Though we can no longer be 
 lovers, Yaughan, there is no reason that I know of why we may 
 not be friends." 
 
 " Is there no danger, Cattie, in such a friendship?" 
 
 " None," she replied, in a tone of assumed confidence ; for in 
 her conscience she well knew how ill she was acting. " No, 
 Yaughan, circumstances, which I confess I have never rightly 
 understood, have changed our destiny ; but circumstances do not 
 change hearts," 
 
 " T am sorry to say my experience does not go to prove that 
 axiom," returned Yaughan in a melancholy tone of voice. 
 
 " Circumstances may change the face of the world, Yaughan ; 
 but they can never change mine." 
 
 As Yaughan was not naturally insincere, this was a tone of 
 conversation he found it difficult to sustain; so he attempted 
 to turn it into a less embarrassing channel, by asking if he was 
 not taking her out of her way 1 
 
 " I have no way," she answered; " one is the same as another; 
 but I have so long desired an opportunity of si^eaking to you.
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 161 
 
 that, now I have achieved it, I cannot let you escape me. Be- 
 sides, Yaughan, if you will not be angry with me for saying so 
 — I do think I could be of use to you." Her instincts whispered 
 that this was the right string to touch, and that she could only 
 reach him through his interests. In spite of his little assumption 
 of sentiment, she felt his coldness; and under her assumed 
 candoui", and frank offers of service and friendship, her heart was 
 boiling with jealousy. " Sir Arthur, T know, will be quite glad 
 if you wiU come and see us. By the by, we have a dinner 
 to-morrow, a small party — rather select too ; only the Mortimei-y, 
 the Granbys, and the Bochefoucaulds — will you come and meet 
 them at seven?" 
 
 " But if I were to say yes^' answered Yaughan, " can you 
 really ensure me a welcome?" 
 
 " Do you think I would expose you to any thing unpleasant, 
 Yaughan? Whatever Sir Arthiu' may be, he is not jealous, 
 I assure you." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 162 LINNY LOCKWOOD, 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 Had it been a right thing, it would have been a hrave thing, 
 on the part of Lady Glenlyon, to invite Yaughan Edmonstone 
 to that select little dinner party, where he was to meet only the 
 Granbys, and the Mortimers, and the Rochefoncaulds ; for she 
 well knew that they belonged to a circle to which he had no 
 $iccess; and, although she considered this a winning-card as 
 regarded her grand object of pleasing him, and therefore played 
 it, she was well aware that it might cost her something on the 
 other side. The exclusive Englishmen might be displeased at 
 l)eing brought into relation with a person they did not desire to 
 meet; and, her introducing tliis questionable visiter, might 
 reflecli somewhat unpleasantly upon herself. Then there was 
 Sir Arthur — how would he take it ? He would certainly be ex- 
 tremely surprised, to say the least ; and so indeed he was, when 
 his wife told him what she had done. 
 
 " 1 couldn't make out what had become of you," he said. 
 '• They told me at Galignani's that jou were waiting, and O'Grady 
 said he had seen your carriage at the door ; but when I came out 
 you were gone." 
 
 " The man I spoke to must have made a mistake," she an- 
 swered, turning her head away that he might not see the lie in 
 her face. " He said you were not there." 
 
 " Very extraordinary ! for I came out directly." 
 
 " I hope you didn't walk home in the damp ! You took a 
 fiacre, of course ! " 
 
 " No, I walked." 
 
 '^ How very wrong, Glenlyon ! When you knovr" you are not 
 free from cold."
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 1G3 
 
 " T miglit have waited half an hour for a fiacre such a day as 
 this; and I was impatient to get home." 
 
 " Did you see any body wliilst you were out?" inquired the 
 lady, after reiterating her hope that no bad consequences might 
 ensue from his impnidence. 
 
 " Nobody, except the people one sees every day in the reading- 
 room," answered Sir Arthur, settling himself in his easy-chair, 
 with the last new nimiber of the Edinburgh Revieio. 
 
 " ^7ell, / saw somebody that I don't see every day; somebody 
 that I haven't seen for many a day, and that I was almost sorry 
 t o see now — it gave me so much pain." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " That poor young man, Yaughan Edmonstone." 
 
 " Oh ! I see him two or three tiines a-week." 
 
 "Well, I had not seen him I don't know when; and it really 
 quite gave me a frisson, he looked so dejected and unhappy, 
 and yet, at the same time, so gentlemanly. He has lost nothing 
 in that respect, poor fellow! Has he^' 
 
 " He's generally very well dressed ; but I'm told he used 
 latterly to look very seedy in London." 
 
 " I don't believe it. He never looked seedy when I saw him. 
 People are always ready to say that soi-t of thing." 
 
 " Better look seedy than run in debt with his tailor," answered 
 Sir Arthur; whose manner rather testified a desire to read his 
 lievieiu, than continue to discourse about a person vrlio was 
 utterly indifferent to him. 
 
 "Certainly!" returned Kate. " If he was not quite so well 
 dressed as formerly, the motive was at least an honourable one; 
 and it really makes one sick of the world to see how ready ^^eople 
 are to turn their backs on a person who, without any fciult of 
 his own, may be placed in difficult circumstances. Not that I 
 mean to say every body is mean enough to do tliat; and I was 
 pleased to hear fro'm Vaughan that aU his friends who were 
 v.'orth keeping have adhered to him." 
 
 "Then you spoke to him?"
 
 164 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " Of course, I did ; and I'ye asked liini to dine here to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 "To-morrow?" 
 
 " Yes. I should feel ashamed if I could forget all the kind- 
 ness and hospitality I have received from his father and mother 
 in former times, when Marlow was one of the most delightful 
 houses one could visit at. I'm sure it was like a home to me ; 
 and many a time poor Mrs. Edmonstone, only to oblige me, has 
 gone to a ball when mama was ill, and I could not get a cha- 
 perone, 1 should blush for myself if I could turn my back on 
 their son, merely because the family are in adversity." 
 
 " It's not necessary you should turn your back on him ; but 
 I must say, I wish you had not invited him for to-morrow. I 
 really don't know whether there are any grounds for the pre- 
 judice; but there certainly does appear to be a prejudice against 
 him, which, as he did not seem inclined to throw himself in my 
 way, I have never cared to inquire into " 
 
 " My dear Glenlyon, isn't he poor ! What need you incpiire 
 any further ! " 
 
 " There's something more than that, I suspect. I rather 
 fear, that whilst he has been hanging about London with 
 empty pockets, he may have formed some questionable asso- 
 ciations " 
 
 " If you mean female association, 1 believe he has, and has had 
 for years — a devoted attachment to some young girl in an ob- 
 scure position of life — and I have some suspicion that he has 
 married her, and that she is here with him; but I do not see 
 what society has to do with that, as long as he does not attempt 
 to force her into it." 
 
 "Certainly not; though such a connexion is not likely to 
 smooth away the difficulties of his situation, or render his 
 company more acceptable. However, as you have asked him, 
 it can't be helped ! " 
 
 " If I had imagined you would have had the least objection, 
 I would not have done it; but really, it never occurred to me."
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 165 
 
 Sir Arthur Glenlyon was not a person to make a quarrel 
 out of such a difference as this ; moreover, he accepted her lady- 
 ship's version of the affair without a doubt of its accuracy, and 
 Kate felt a glow of triumphant pleasure at the success of her 
 scheme, and at the prospect of showing Yaughan how much it 
 was in her power to serve and uphold him. If she could only 
 make him sensible of all he would have gained by marrying 
 her, and all he had lost by marrying that wife of whom she 
 was so jealous, she fancied she should be satisfied, and the sting- 
 that rankled in her heart would be blunted. 
 
 " What will your ladyship please to wear this evening?" in- 
 quired her maid, when she retired to her dressing-room. 
 
 '•' This evening 1 I don't care, I'm sure, Whartou ; what have 
 you ready ? " 
 
 " I have been putting the Honiton flounces on the new white 
 moire antique, my lady, and it looks beautiful." 
 
 " Does it 1 Show it me ! So it does, Wharton ; I'll wear 
 that to-morrow." 
 
 "I thought your ladyship would have worn the moire 
 to-uight, with the white wreath that came home this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "No; the Brussels lace will do very well for to-night." 
 
 "I'm afraid it's too soiled, my lady; I don't think it would 
 do with the white wi^eath." 
 
 " I can wear it over the pink satin, and I needn't wear the 
 wreath; I'U wear the pink feathers." 
 
 It was remarked by the ladies on that evening, at the Duchesse 
 de Grammont's soiree musiccde, that Lady Glenlyon's toilet was 
 by no means so fresh as was usual with her; but, on the other 
 hand, the gentlemen universally agreed that they had never seen 
 her look better. Her eyes sparkled, a delicate flush suffused her 
 usually pale cheeks; and, instead of the air of languid dissatis- 
 faction she too frequently exhibited, she was all animation and 
 good-humonr. Many people observed the change, but none had 
 the key to it, not even Sir Bryan O'Grady; for though he had
 
 1G6 LTNNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 been surprised at seeing lier invite Yanglian into lier car- 
 riage, he was not aware that that was their first interview in 
 Paris. 
 
 In the mean time, Yaughan himself went home half glad and 
 half angry at what had happened. The assistance had been 
 opportune ; but he felt himself snared. Had he ever been fond 
 of Lady Glenlyon, this generous aid might have revived the 
 sentiment; but as he never had, and as circumstances had con- 
 verted indifference into dislike and resentment, the obligations she 
 was now imposing on him by her countenance and protection, 
 irritated and mortified liim. To cut her, to decline all renewal 
 of acquaintance, and treat her advances with open scorn, would 
 have gratified his pride; but his difficult position had flung him 
 into her toils, and she had seized the advantage of the moment 
 to gain her point. This was the view he took of her success, and 
 he hesitated still whether to go to the dinner or not. On the 
 one hand, he would like to disappoint her by sending a refusal, 
 and he had a pretty just appreciation of the amount of disappoint- 
 ment he had it in his power to inflict ; but, on the other hand, he 
 had an inextinguishable longing to recover his footing in society, 
 and be able to render back to the Bryan O'Gradys, amongst 
 his former acquaintance, the distant recognitions and haughty 
 bows that so often cut him to the soul. Then there was another 
 consideration — his funds were getting low ; and though his credit 
 would be good for some time, that must fail too ; and what was ' 
 to be done then he could not tell, unless he could get — a situa- 
 tion ! What situation he was fit for, it would not be easy to 
 say; but that is not the consideration that much troubles 
 people who want situations. A vague idea of having something 
 to write for an hour or two a day in a government ofiice, and 
 then drawing on a pair of canary-coloured gloves, and parading 
 St. James's-street and Bond-street, and spending his evenings 
 agreeably in society, or at the opera, embodied his notions of the 
 duties of a situation ; and such a situation he saw no hopes of 
 attaining, unless he could make friends with people in power
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 1G7 
 
 tliroiTgli the introduction of the Glenlyons and their fashionable 
 acquaintance. 
 
 These were the considerations that determined him to jro ; 
 and, as far as the result of the day went, he had no occasion to 
 repent it. Sir Arthur received him as his wife's guest urbanely ; 
 Lady Glenlj^on like an old and intimate friend; the Rochefou- 
 caulds knew nothing about him or his family ; and the Granbys 
 and the Mortimers very little — they being people of a certain 
 age, living in the cream of society, and unacquainted with the 
 gossip of the young men about town. Moreover, they were con- 
 nexions of Sir Arthur Glenlyon, for whom they entertained, 
 justly, a very great respect, and whose selection of his company 
 it would never have occurred to them to question.
 
 168 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 Immediately after the receipt of lier motlier's letter, Linny 
 had written for farther intelligence. Two or three weeks 
 elapsed without an answer to relieve her anxiety; — an anxiety 
 that she was obliged to keep to herself, for it was one in which 
 Yaughan could not participate. With all his faults and his 
 deviations from the right path he loved Linny; but the father 
 and mother Lockwood were people entirely beyond the sphere of 
 his sympathies. Had he, when in prosperous circumstances, 
 married their daughter, his toleration would have extended no 
 further than to allow his wife to visit them occasionally; and 
 his adversity did not dispose him to any greater degree of 
 familiarity or interest. Even Linny herself had too many nearer 
 things to think of, to dwell much on the mysterious troubles the 
 letter intimated ; for what had actually occurred to distress her 
 mother she could not comprehend. Explaining, narrating, 
 detailing, on paper, is not an easy matter to a person who had 
 never acquired the ai-t of letter-writing, and whose penmanship for 
 many years had not extended beyond the inditing of a washing 
 bill; so that Mi-s. Lockwood's first epistle conveyed but a very 
 imperfect notion of the state of desolation she was really in, and 
 furnished no accoimt of the circumstances that had led to it. 
 Her second was little more satisfactory. She said that she had 
 been unable to write because she had been occupied in removing 
 from her lodging, which was now too expensive for her; and 
 how she should do, even in the more humble one she had taken, 
 she did not know. Then she dilated on the unhappiness of her 
 mind " on account of Mr. Lockwood's not having returned;" but
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 169 
 
 slie did not attempt to explain the cause of liis absence, appearing 
 to tliink either that she had done so in her former letter, or that 
 the circumstances must have reached Linnv through some other 
 channel. This vagueness spared her daughter a good deal of pain; 
 imagination not painting the reality so black as it was. She 
 fancied that her parents were in some pecuniary embaiTassment, 
 and, had she had any money at command, she would gladly 
 have assisted them ; but she had too much reason to be uneasy 
 about Yaughan's impending difficulties to bestow much thought 
 on those of any other person. She knew that poverty on 
 Yaughan, and poverty on her parents, would press with very 
 different weights. The squalid lodging, the sluttish maid- 
 seiwant or none, the scanty unsavouiy fare, the shabby attire, 
 the Lockwoods had already had experience of, when their 
 fortunes were at the lowest ebb; but how she and Yaughan 
 were to solve the problem of living without money she could 
 not conceive. Alone, or with her parents, she could have done 
 a hundred useful thiuos ; but she had a stron<x conviction that 
 her husband could not be brought, by any influence of hers, 
 to limit his expenses to his means; and that he would not long 
 love a wife whose arms he sasv in the washing-tub, although it 
 was liimself that had plunged them into it. 
 
 In the mean time, Yaughan s intercourse with the Glenlyon's 
 had not ceased with that first memorable dinner. Ce nest que 
 la premier 2^('^s qui coute ; and, whatever his secret feelings 
 towards Cattie might be, that one initiatory step taken, the 
 pleasures and advantages to be derived from her countenance 
 and support, were too great to be neglected in his present im- 
 minent position. Her husband too, who, as I have said, had 
 no notion that there was any occasion for jealousy, received him 
 with easy civility. He was the old friend of his wife, fallen into 
 advei'sity; and, as nobody appeared to have any thing positive 
 to allege against him. Sir Arthur was too liberal, and too much 
 a man of the world, to take needless exceptions. So Yaughan 
 always had the entre of her box at the theatres, was fi^equently
 
 170 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 the companion of her airings in the Bois de Boulogne, and gene- 
 rally dined at her table three times a week; an arrangement 
 that left his wife very much to herself; but as he told her he 
 was cultivating the acquaintance of these people in the hope they 
 would serve him, she endured her loneliness with patience. And 
 there is no doubt that it ivas purely interest that had first in- 
 duced him to fall as he did, with his eyes open, into Lady 
 Glenlyon's lures ; but habit soon made him like not her, but the 
 pleasures and elegancies she administered to him, so well, that 
 love itself could scarcely have brought him more constantly to 
 her side. Yet he did not love her, and she knew it. That is a 
 point, indeed, upon which, I believe, women are never deceived ; 
 men, in whom intuitions are weaker, may sometimes draw wrong 
 conclusions; but although we often cajole ourselves, and refuse 
 to look truth in the face, we see it with closed eyes, whether we 
 will or no. I must even do Yaughan the justice to say, that 
 whilst he was dining and driving with Lady Glenlyon, his heart 
 often yearned towards Linny, and that, when he returned to her 
 after a pleasant evening spent in company, or at the theatre, 
 it was with undiminished if not augmented affection ; the rather 
 that she never complained of his absence, nor reproached him 
 with enjoying pleasures from which she was excluded. And 
 thus it came about, that of these two ladies Linny was the hap- 
 piest. She had her cares, and her anxieties, and her fears for 
 the future, but her nature was more calmly devoted, and less 
 passionate and excitable than Lady Glenlyon's; and to such 
 natures as this last, there is no more irritating pain than that 
 which Yaughan daily and hourly inflicted upon her, or which 
 her involuntary clear-sightedness inflicted upon herself Oi 
 course, too, she made the usual mistake ; having failed to win 
 him by her abundant kindness and services, instead of alarming 
 his pride or his interest by a semblance of indifference, she 
 tried to excite his gratitude and affection by more kindness 
 and warmer demonstrations; and the warmer she grew, the 
 colder gi-ew he. It was like blowing upon ice to make it burn,
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 171 
 
 'But not one \roman in a tliousand, wlio lias entered upon tliis 
 path, ever stops. 
 
 Like people involved in a hopeless lawsuit, they persist in 
 " throwing good money after bad." She was always seeking what 
 she could do for him, how she could flatter him, and heal the 
 wounds his self-love had suffered by the failure of the elopement 
 scheme, and her subsequent maniage. She told him how her 
 father had discovered their intentions, and won her to relinquish 
 the plan, under a promise that if, at the end of the period named, 
 she was still resolved on the match, he would oppose it no 
 longer. 
 
 " And I thought how much better it was for your sake, dear 
 Vaughan, that we should marry with my father's consent and 
 countenance. Besides, you know he might not have given us 
 any money, and he might have disinherited me ; and so I thought 
 it better to yield so far, and wi'ite you that letter bidding you 
 not come." 
 
 '•'What letter? I had no letter." 
 
 "You did not receive it?" 
 
 "N"ever." 
 
 " I gave it to my maid to send to the post. But you didn't 
 come that night ? " 
 
 " Yes, I did — and was received by your father." 
 
 " And you thought it was with my connivance ! I cannot 
 wonder at your resentment. That wi-etch Dycer must have be- 
 trayed me; bribed by my father, I dare say. But how did he 
 receive you? What did he say?" 
 
 " Nothing very civil, as you may suppose. However, it's no 
 use recurring to these unpleasant recollections now." 
 
 " What a tool they made of me ! I see it all. And by keeping 
 back that letter they made you distrust me ; and thus kept us 
 effectually apart, and prevented an explanation. I'll never for- 
 give it as long as I live ! And then I thought you didn't care 
 for me, and I was so miserable that I didn't care for myself; 
 and so 1 married."
 
 172 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 "■ The best tiling 5"0u could do." 
 
 "Do you say so, Yaughan?" returned Kate, reproachfully. 
 " But, to be sure, that could make no difierence to you." 
 
 " Is'one ; if you were not to many me." 
 
 Could there be any thing so cutting? Yet he did not intend 
 it, though she felt it, and recoiled from it as from the sting of an 
 adder. What indifference it implied ! Whilst she was bui-sting 
 with jealousy of that fair wife of his, it had not occun-ed to him 
 to be jealous of her husband — a man not unfit to inspire such a 
 passion either ; a thorough gentleman ; amiable, sensible, well- 
 looking, and well bred. 
 
 How she hated Linny at that moment! Fine lady as she 
 was, she would have liked to fall foul of her, and disfigure that 
 lovely fiice. But instead of being repulsed, subdued, beaten, by 
 these defeats, they only incited her to the stmggle by the pangs 
 they inflicted. Yaughan must love her; she could never rest 
 till she had superseded her rival in his heart ; — then, she thought, 
 she should be at peace. So she went on heaping Belion upon 
 Ossa. 
 
 " Ah, Yaughan ! you little know what I had suffered before 
 I consented to this marriage. Up to the very last, if I had had 
 Init the slightest encouragement from you — if you had only 
 A\Titten to me — I would have broken it off, even as I was step- 
 ]>ing into the carriage to go to church. But you didn't; and 
 then when it was too late, and the irrevocable knot was tied, we 
 crossed each other's path at Calais." 
 
 Having no direct sympathy with these lamentations, Yaughan 
 occasionally inteniipted them with a yawn, or was guilty of 
 looking out of the window, yet he deeply regi'etted the material 
 advantages he had lost by not marrying Cattie; and when she 
 dwelt on that view of the question, his sympathy was more 
 ready, she had the satisfaction of seeing his brow overclouded, 
 and sometimes of hearing him exhale his unsentimental regrets 
 in a sigh. Bitter balm ! Irritating consolation ! Many a time 
 it was on her lips to reproach him with his infidelity. Sho
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 173 
 
 longed to sneer at Linny; to be caustic on his liaison with 
 " a common-looking, under-bred girl," but she felt she durst not; 
 the arrow might recoil and strike herself, for he loved her, she 
 was sure. "What but love could attach him to one who had 
 evidently no worldly advantages to seduce him? What would 
 she have given to have been loved thus for herself ? 
 
 Not daring to trust her tongue with this perilous venture, 
 she ignored Linny's existence altogether; avoiding any allusion 
 that would lead Vaughan to suppose she was aware of the true 
 state of the case; but she always lamented to Sir Arthur, that 
 Vaughan's prospects in life were ruined by a mad passion for 
 some girl of inferior connexion, who was either his wife or 
 something worse. " But for this," she said, " he might, with his 
 manners and personal advantages, have yet repaired his fortunes 
 by a good marriage."
 
 174 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 One clay that Mr. Gamble, of tlie King's Arms, was standing 
 witli liis hands in his pockets at the door of his own hostelry, 
 in the Yanxhall-road, complacently contemplating the numerous 
 stage-coaches long and short, the carriers' waggons, the gigs and 
 busses, and other pleasing varieties of vehicular ingenuity that 
 were groaning or rattling past, he observed a tired-looking, 
 dusty, footsore traveller, whose features he fancied were familiar 
 to him, slowly wending his way along the footpath. That he 
 had walked many a mile appeared from his shoes, which were so 
 worn that they scarcely clung to his feet, and would, indeed, 
 have dropped from them, but that they were fastened on by 
 bits of twine bound round the instep. His clothes, too, which 
 consisted of a black coat and grey trousers, with the remnant of 
 a black handkerchief round his throat, had reached the last stage 
 of shabbiness ; and his hat, though entire, had been such a victim 
 to the elements, and was so disfigured by rain and dust, that it 
 more resembled brown paper than black felt. The person and 
 carriage of the wearer of these habiliments were in strict accord- 
 ance with them. The complexion was ghastly, the eyes simken, 
 the mouth drawn down, and the hair, thin and grey, appeared 
 uncut and straggling beneath the hat ; his body had evidently 
 decreased considerably in size since his clothes were made; his 
 hands were without gloves ; and his coat was fastened across the 
 breast with a pin, as if to conceal the deficiency or imperfections 
 of his under apparel. 
 
 Mr. Gamble kept his eye upon this melancholy figure as he 
 approached, gazing with no little surprise and curiosity upon, 
 what appeared to him, either the apparition of a man he had
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. ITo 
 
 formerly known, or a very singular living resemblance of the 
 individual in question. Tlie traveller advanced, however, with- 
 out looking about liim j appearing too much oppressed by fatigue 
 and "v\T.'etchedness to raise his head ; a thousand-weight of care 
 seemed to be sitting on his shoulders, and weighing him down. 
 There was something in the gait, however — a peculiarity arising 
 from an accident in early youth — that, in spite of his pei^uasion 
 that the original of this phantasm was dead, irresistibly impelled 
 Mr. Gamble, as the stranger was passing his door, to step for- 
 ward and lay his hand upon his shoulder. The man started 
 as if the hand had been that of an enemy, and looked up with 
 an expression of alarm. 
 
 " If it isn't, my name's not Gamble!" exclaimed the host, 
 pui^uing the current of his own thought. " Mr. Lockvv'ood ! " 
 he continued, for the evident recognition on the other side con- 
 firmed his suspicion; " why, man, we thought you vras dead and 
 buried long ago ! " 
 
 " ]N'o," answered Lockwood, shaking his head despondingly ; 
 " no such thing — worse luck!" 
 
 " Step in!" rejoined Gamble, laying hold of his arm and 
 leading him into the house — a measure to which Lockwood 
 offered no opposition. " I thought I couldn't be mistaken," he 
 continued, as he opened the door of a small parlour on the right 
 of the passage; " if ever I see Mr. Lockwood, says I, that's he." 
 
 " I wonder you recognized me," returned Lockwood ; " I don't 
 look much like the man you remember, I think." 
 
 " Why, there's a pretty considerable change, to be sure," an- 
 swered Gamble; " and, if it hadn't been for your gait, I won't 
 say but I might have let you pass. But, come ! a slice of cold 
 beef and a draught of porter '11 do you good after your walk. 
 Sit yourself down a bit!" and so saying the hospitable host 
 disappeared to order in the viands, whilst his weary guest, 
 nothing loth, took out a pocket-handkerchief worthy of Sylvester 
 Daggerwood, and began to whisk some of the dust off his 
 shoes and clothes. It is needless to remark that he wished they
 
 176 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 were cleaner and more respectable ; for altliougli, whilst lie wa^ 
 tramping along tlie road, a poor unit in the multitude, he was 
 too much absorbed with heavier cares to think of his dilapidated 
 attire, he could not be insensible to the mortification of appearing 
 in such miserable guise before a man who had known him in 
 better days, and who used formerly to doff his hat to him — for 
 Gamble had lived as groom at Marlow when Gervase Edmonstone 
 and George Lockwood were boys; and although, of late years, 
 the banker's clerk and the host of the King's Arms did not 
 often come across each other, yet, whenever they did chance to 
 meet, it was never without a friendly word of greeting. 
 
 The painful consciousness of his beggarly plight once awak- 
 ened, poor Lockwood shrunk from the waiter's eye as he 
 brought in a fine sirloin of beef, with the bread, beer, and condi- 
 ments necessary to a hearty luncheon ; and yet he was a hungry 
 and thirsty man, who had not partaken of such a repast for 
 many a day — a repast to which he was now invited with an 
 honest welcome; for, as we have seen before, Mr. Gamble was a 
 good kind of creature, and not disposed to turn his back upon 
 an old acquaintance in distress, if he could help it. 
 
 " Come," said he, " fall to ! " taking up the knife and fork with 
 an artistic flourish, and cutting out a couple of generous, juicy 
 slices of the sirloin ; " travelling, 'specially when a man hasn't no 
 conveyance but his own ten toes, is hungry work." 
 
 "Hungry enough!" answered Lockwood; "audit's not many 
 people that are willing to feed travellers with empty pockets." 
 
 Mr. Gamble pushed the plate of beef towards him, cut him a 
 huge hunch of bread, helped him to salt and mustard, and 
 placed a foaming pot of porter at his right hand. 
 
 " Eat and drink your fill ! " said he, " and never mind the 
 pocket." 
 
 It was pleasant to see with what hearty good-will poor George 
 obeyed the injunction. With an appetite sharpened by long 
 abstinence, a man, whilst such a meal is before him, may be ex- 
 cused for forgetting his sorrows. Taking things on the whole,
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 177 
 
 there were few people in the world just then worse off than 
 George Lockwood ; and yet many a coroneted head, with a full 
 purse and a French cook, would have given a handsome sum to 
 pui'chase the amount of enjoyment that fell to the lot of this 
 poor wayfarer, whilst partaking of Mr. Gamble's hospitalities. 
 
 " Don't say no, man — don't say no; there's more where that 
 comes from," said he, frankly, when his guest declined a thii-d 
 plateful ; and it was not till he felt assured the hungry stomach 
 was entirely satisfied, that he would allow the food to be cleared 
 away. When that was done, he desired his wife to send them 
 in a couple of glasses of brandy and water, and some biscuits; 
 and then, the door being closed upon them, George said, " And so 
 you heard I was dead T' 
 
 " We did," answered Mr. Gamble. " It was a man I knew 
 as lived coachman with Mr. Eardley, the banker, ■ that told me 
 of it." 
 
 " What did he say"?" inquired George. 
 
 " Why," said Gamble, peering into his glass of brandy and 
 water, and playing with his teaspoon, " he hinted that summut 
 unfort'nate had occurred, and that it was supposed you'd been 
 and done summut rash." 
 
 " Committed suicide?" 
 
 " That's what he meant, I take it." 
 
 " Did he say any thing about my wife?" 
 
 " Not a word. He was not here five minutes : he only looked 
 in as he was passing the door; but I'm very glad to find it was 
 a false report." 
 
 " I don't know but it would have been the wisest thing I could 
 have done," said Lockwood. " Many's the time I've walked by 
 the river's side, or looked into the chemists' shops, and thought 
 what an easy thing it would be to get away from all this misery; 
 but when it comes to the point, somehow " 
 
 " Why, there's two words to that bargain," responded Jlr. 
 Gamble. "I don't know much about what the pai-sons tells ns ; and 
 it's my opinion they don't know much more about them things than 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 173 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 we do ourselves. I'm a plain man, and 1 never had much 
 edication ; but I've got my eyes ; and what I say is, that a man's 
 only got to open 'em to see the works of God, whereby I know 
 that them aren't the works of man ; and if he made me, what I 
 say is, that I don't think I've no right to go and unmake myself, 
 because things don't fit just as I want 'em, which appears to me 
 like flying in the face of God Almighty. I don't think we've 
 got no business to go till we're called ; and that's too soon for 
 most on us ! " he added with a knowing nod, as he lifted his glass 
 to his lips. 
 
 " It was some such feeling as you speak of that always deterred 
 me," answered Lockwood. " Trouble is often hard to bear ; but 
 this life is but a span, and we don't know where we're rushing 
 to." 
 
 " Besides, when things is at the worst they often mends," said 
 Mr. Gamble. 
 
 " I'm afraid my affairs are past mending," rejoined Lockwood. 
 "For many years there wasn't a happier man in the three 
 kingdoms than I was, till misfortune came — and it wasn't by 
 my own fault either; and, since that, every thing has gone 
 against me. I suppose you never heard what happened?" 
 
 "Why, no," answered Gamble; "no paHicklers. I herrd 
 summut of the break-up at the bank, 'cause, you know, I keeps 
 my bit of money there — " 
 
 " It's not the bank I allude to," said Lockwood, " though I've 
 been a dreadful sufferer from that business, and, as I said before, 
 without any fault of my own; but it was not that affair that 
 drove me finally to desperation, and sent me wandering over the 
 country like a madman. It was the loss of a parcel, containing 
 money and jewels, that was entrusted to me by one of the Eardley 
 family, and which, by ill-luck, I dropped in the street. Of 
 course, I knew they wouldn't believe I'd dropped it — why should 
 they? — especially when a man was down in the world, as I was?" 
 
 " An awkward circumstance, no doubt," responded Mr. 
 Gamble. " But how came you to lose such a thing as that?"
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 179 
 
 " Why, I'd thrust it into my bosom because there was a hole 
 in the breast-pocket of my great-coat, and in a struggle with a 
 blast of wind that caught my umbrella — for it was a terrible 
 windy, rainy night — some of the buttons gave way. At least, 
 that's the only way I could account for it, for I never discovered 
 the loss till I reached Mr. Eardley's door, and then I rushed 
 back like a madman, and searched the ground all night ; but of 
 course it had been caught up. Such a thing as that was sure 
 never to be heard of again." 
 
 " Not likely," returned Mr. Gamble. 
 
 " When I went to the police-olSice to give information about 
 it, I saw clearly that they suspected me; and I was afraid of 
 being arrested on a charge of embezzlement. What could I 
 have said? Nothing that they would believe, I knew. As for 
 facing Mr. Eardley, I couldn't do it after all that had happened ; 
 and, instead of going home, I skulked about till I didn't dare to 
 go ; for of course every hour I had kept out of the way, made 
 my case worse." 
 
 " And what have you been doing ever since ? " 
 
 " Wandering about the country like a vagrant — scarcely in 
 my right mind, I believe, sometimes. At last I fell ill, and 
 when I came to my recollection I found myself in an hospital. 
 When I was strong enough to walk, they dismissed me; and at 
 length I determined to face the worst, and give myself up to the 
 police. When you stopped me, I was on my way to Bow-street." 
 
 " Hang it ! I don't see no occasion to do that neither," said 
 ]Mr. Gamble. " Better go to Mr. Eardley, and hear what he's 
 got to say about it." 
 
 " I haven't the heart to go to him," answered Lockwood, 
 " when I have no means of clearing myself Besides, on second 
 thoughts, I believe it is better that things should remain as they 
 are. If I turn up again, I can only bring disgrace and trouble 
 on my family ; whereas, I am persuaded from my knowledge of 
 Mr. Eardley, that he'll not let them want if he thinks me dead." 
 
 " He may think so still for me," said Gamble; "but I should
 
 180 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 say — face it out ! Tell tlie tnitli, and sliame the devil. How- 
 somever, eveiy man must judge for himself in them things." 
 
 " If it hadn't been for what had occurred previously," rejoined 
 Lockwood, "I should have acted quite differently; but I've 
 been sacrificed in the most rascally manner by a person I owed 
 a gi-eat deal to, and I can't justify myself. I might have done 
 it, if I'd had resolution; but the time's gone by; and, as I said 
 before, when a man's down every thing goes against him." 
 
 " That's often true enough," returned Gamble; " but there's 
 more folks down than you, and that have had a greater fall. 
 One day, as I was a driving in a gig through the New Koad, I 
 see'd Mr. Edmonstone. I didn't pretend to know him ; but he 
 was standing at the door of a shabby house, and looked sadly 
 broke down like. It must be a hard change for him and his 
 lady." 
 
 Lockwood was silent. He, the innocent, had experienced so 
 much unmerited suffering, that his heart was hardened against 
 the sufferings of the guilty. He could have said, " It's no 
 more than he deserves!" 
 
 " And the youngster, too — the captain — it's been a sad 
 trouble to him. He was knocking about town in a poor way 
 for a long while, and oft-times he'd have wanted a dinner and a 
 bed I fancy, if I hadn't taken him in. I never thought to see 
 my money. He's paid me, though ; but the dickens knows where 
 he got it. A lucky throw with the bones, I s'pose!" 
 
 " Where is he now?" inquired Lockwood, his mind reverting 
 to his daughter. 
 
 " T'other side of the water, among the mounseers. He comes 
 here one morning, afore my wife was down-stairs, with — hem ! — 
 with an uncommon handsome young 'oman, as a man need wish 
 to see, pays me my money, and away in a hack to the Tower 
 Stairs; and my nevey Jem, that's English waiter at the Caffy 
 Augly, on the Bullvards, over in Parii, says he often sees 'em a 
 walkij !g about. By the by, Mr. Lockwood, is your girl married ? " 
 
 "No!" answered Lockwood, unsuspiciously, she's teacher in a
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 181 
 
 boarding-scliool at Battersea. The last time / saw that youth, 
 Vanghan Edmonstone, I shall not easily forget. It was on that 
 unlucky night when I dropped the parcel; and I believe, at the 
 very time I dropped it he was not far from me. God forgive 
 nie ! but I've sometimes thought he might have picked it iip ! " 
 
 " Perhaps he did," answered Gamble facetiously ; for the 
 suggestion seemed too improbable to be received seriously. 
 " Perhaps he did ; and paid me with the money." 
 
 " It was on the 20th of December, last year," said Lock wood; 
 " the evening before Miss Eardley's marriage." 
 
 " Faith ! I think it was somewhere about that time he was 
 here," returned Gamble. " I know it wasn't many days afore 
 Christmas; for I remember my wife had been dinging into me 
 about his owing us so much money, and I'd promised, if he didn't 
 pay at Christmas, I wouldn't give him no more credit ; ' so/ says 
 she, laughing — says she, ' The captain's just saved his bacon,' " 
 
 Here Mr. Lockwood interrupted the jolly laugh with which 
 the worthy host terminated his recital, by inquiring anxiously 
 whether Gamble had any means of ascertaining the precise 
 period at which Vaughan Edmonstone had paid the visit above 
 alluded to. Nothing was easier, Mr. Gamble said, since he had 
 entered the payment in his books the day it was received; and 
 with that he rose and left the room. 
 
 It was a singular circumstance that, although the vagueness 
 of his grounds of suspicion on the one hand, and his despondency 
 and sense of helplessness on the other, would have effectually pre- 
 vented his making any effort to investigate the fact, Lockwood 
 had been perpetually haunted by the idea, that it was Vaughan 
 Edmonstone who had picked up the parcel, and that the injury 
 of the son had thus formed a climax to the injuries of the father. 
 The moment, therefore, that Gamble, though in pure sport, 
 seemed to admit the possibility of the thing, Lockwood' s mind 
 eagerly fastened on it; and it was in a state of excited expecta- 
 tion that he waited the result of a reference to the ledger, with 
 which the host presently returned.
 
 182 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " It was uncommon stormy weather, too, I remember," said 
 Gamble; "for one of the shutters had blown too the night be- 
 fore, and smashed that there window ; and I recollect the glazier 
 was mending of it when we came into this room to settle the 
 account." 
 
 " Look at the date !" said Lockwood; his hand trembling with 
 agitation as he held the caudle over the pages that the host was 
 turning. 
 
 " Here it is ! " exclaimed Gamble, pointing to the entry with 
 his finger. " £57 : 17 : 8 : j^aid Decemher 2\st, 18 " 
 
 Unable to speak from the violence of his emotions, Lockwood 
 dropped into a chair, paler if possible than he was before. 
 
 " The very day!" he said, striking the table with his clenched 
 fist. " I lost that parcel in Oxford-street on th«e 20th of De- 
 cember, about nine o'clock at night, and I know that that fellow 
 was close upon my heels, for I saw him with my own eyes by 
 the light from a chemist's window; and the next morning he 
 comes here with his pockets full of cash, pays you fifty-seven 
 pounds, and cuts across the water ! " 
 
 "It do look uncommon odd, to be sure!" said Mr. Gamble; 
 " and yet I should be sorry to think the captain 'ud do such a 
 thing as that." 
 
 " I'll go to a magistrate this very night, and lay the whole 
 circumstances before him," exclaimed Lockwood. 
 
 " I wouldn't do no such a thing, if I was you," said Mr. 
 Gamble, "till I was a little more sartain. You see it's my 
 opinion that the captain played ; a person I knowed told me he see 
 him coming out of a hell in St. James's-street, one morning 
 about six o'clock. Now, he may have had a lucky haul." 
 
 But the idea had too fast hold of Lockwood's mind to be re- 
 moved by any such suggestions; whilst the hope of obtaining 
 his own justification, and, at the same time, rendering back some 
 of the misery that had been heaped upon himself, was too ex- 
 citing, in his present state of nervous ii-ritation, to be resisted. 
 He felt he must seek relief in action, and, in spite of Gamble's ad-
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 183 
 
 vice, " To sleep upon it, and not let liis passion run away with 
 him," lie seized his hat, and declared his intention of being oiT 
 to Bow-street immediately. 
 
 " Well," said the host, who, for more reasons than one, had 
 done his utmost to dissuade him, " as you're determined to go, 
 I'd ha' gone with you, but I shouldn't like to do any harm to 
 the captain ; howsomever, if they don't keep you where you're 
 going to, we sha'n't shut up till 'twixt twelve and one : come back 
 here, and I'll find a shakedown for you," 
 
 It was near midnight when Lockwoo d walked into the passage 
 of the King's Arms tired and disappointed — so tired, indeed, 
 that he was scarcely able to crawl. He had told his story; but 
 the evidence that appeared so satisfactory to him, had produced 
 no sensation at the police-office, where the minor circumstances 
 and connecting links were unknown. The magistrate could dis- 
 cover little relation betwixt the dropping of a parcel in Oxford- 
 street one evening, and a gentleman's paying his bill at a tavern 
 in Yauxhall-road the next morning. Moreover, Mr. Eardley, 
 in compliance with the wishes of Mr. Featherstone — who had a 
 full purse and a soft heart — had forborne to make any stir about 
 the matter, so that the officials were not on the qui vive in 
 regard to it ; and all Lockwood could obtam was a recommen- 
 dation to pursue the inquiry, and a promise that, if he could pro- 
 duce any reasonable grounds of suspicion against the gentleman 
 he alluded to, the affair should be investigated. Gamble told 
 him he thought he had got off very well, for he had half expected 
 they would have detained him. 
 
 "Quite the contrary," answered Lockwood; "they seemed very 
 anxious to get rid of me, and I might have been back much 
 earlier, but that, when I found myself so near, I couldn't resist 
 going home to see my poor wife, at least, to what was my home. 
 But she has moved to some other place — the house is occupied 
 by strangers, so that I couldn't make out where she's gone to." 
 
 "WeU, you'll find that out to-morrow," said Gamble; but 
 Lockwood intimated that he had other plans in his head; and,
 
 184 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 although he had yielded to the temjDtation when he was near the 
 spot, yet he believed it was nrnch better, since the grief for his 
 loss must have ere this subsided, that he should not hamper his 
 family by returning to them in his present miserable plight. 
 "If I could once clear myself of this business," he added, "I 
 wouldn't so much mind j and now, that I've got a clue, I'll 
 never rest till I've got to the end of it;" whereupon, whilst 
 they ate a bit of bread and cheese together, he proceeded to con- 
 fide to the host his detennination to go in pursuit of Yaughan. 
 ]^.Ir. Gamble thought it a wild scheme, and tried to persuade 
 him out of it, but Lockwood was resolute. The circumstance he 
 had heard that day, seemed such a direct confirmation of his 
 own waking di'eams, that he believed Providence had guided 
 him to the spot where it was decreed he should learn them; 
 and he felt it would be treason to himself to nesrlect followins: 
 up the clue thus ofiered. 
 
 "I'll go down to the quays," he said, "and job about till I 
 get money enough to take me acro.-:s the water ; once on the 
 other side, I shall find my way to Paris somehow." 
 
 "But Paris is as big as London, I s'pose," said Gamble — "and 
 a man might as well look for a needle in a bundle of hay, if so 
 be you don't know where he lives." 
 
 But Lockwood was not to be deteiTed from his enterprise; 
 the mere idea of having something to do, of having an object in 
 life — a hope to sustain him under his difficulties and privations ; 
 together with the assurance, that could he prove his own inno- 
 cence and convict Yaughan Edmonstone, he would find a warm 
 friend and supporter in Mr. Eardley, excited him to a degree 
 that made him overlook all the obstacles that stood in the way 
 of his undertakings, although Gamble, from a certain remains of 
 good-will to the Edmonstone family, and pity for "the captain," 
 by no means neglected to enforce them. 
 
 On the following day, Lockwood went away, in pursuance of 
 his plan, to work at the quays; but as the people who were 
 regularly employed there looked upon him as an interloper, he
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 185 
 
 « got more kicks than halfpence;" and after some time here- 
 turned to the King's Arms, something the worse in appearance, 
 and in no respect improved in his circumstances. Here, how- 
 ever, he found aid whence he had least expected it. Mr. Gamble, 
 hospitable soul ! moved by the gaunt cheeks of his old acquaint- 
 ance, again produced the sirloin and porter — complacently sip- 
 ping brandy and water whilst Lockwood narrated his recent 
 adventures, and reitei'ated his determination, notwithstanding 
 his present failure, never to relinquish his object. Now it hap- 
 pened that this sederunt was held in the bar, and had for an 
 auditor Mrs. Gamble, who, entertaining but scanty sympathy 
 with the guest's misfortunes, looked with a jealous eye at the 
 consumption of liquor and provisions by so beggarly a customer. 
 
 It therefore occurred to her, that since he was bent on going over 
 the water, the cheapest thing they could do would be to send him 
 there. A steerage passage woidd cost but a small sum, and, once 
 on the other side, he would not easily get back again, whilst the 
 outlay for transporting him would be speedily redeemed from 
 future sirloins and pots of porter — with the additional advan- 
 tage, as she considered it, of being relieved from his visits. 
 
 "When INIr. Gamble discovered that his wife took this view of 
 the case, being too prudent a man to oppose her plan, he quietly 
 acquiesced; and fitting out Lockwood with an old suit of clothes 
 and hat of his own, he shook hands, and bade him good-speed.
 
 186 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The English letters had just been delivered, and Lady Glen- 
 lyon was reading hers before she went out. Vaughan was en- 
 gaged with Tlie Tillies, that had arrived with them. Sir Arthur 
 had already departed on horseback for the Bois de Boulogne. 
 
 " Poor creature ! " said her ladyship, as she concluded the letter 
 she had been perusing. 
 
 " Who is a poor creature?" inquired Vaughan. 
 
 " You remember Lockwood? He had been a clerk in the 
 bank. You must have seen him, I suppose? I recollect hearing 
 your mother say, that she had had a daughter of his at Mar- 
 low once." 
 
 "What of liim?" asked Yaughan. 
 
 " It's supposed he has made away with himself" 
 
 "Really!" 
 
 " By the by, I never told you about it." 
 
 "About what?" 
 
 " About the robbery." 
 
 " At the bank?" 
 
 " No, no ; the night before I was married. My uncle. Feather- 
 stone, had been detained by contrary winds, and did not arrive 
 till the day before the wedding; but he had written from Naples 
 to order a bracelet for me to be ready against his arrival; and, as 
 he did not find it in Cavendish-square, he sent Lockwood, who 
 used to come about the house to do any little job that was wanted, 
 to fetch it, and some money also — five hundred pounds, intended 
 for me, too; but the temptation was too great, I suppose. I 
 fancy they were miserably poor, those Lockwoods, and he made 
 off with the money and bracelet, and has never been heard of
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 187 
 
 since — at least he lias never been seen since; but mama says here, 
 * Did I never tell you that, shortly after you left us, papa had a 
 letter from that wretched Lockwood ; saying that he could not 
 face the dreadful suspicion from which he saw it was impossible 
 to clear himself, and that he preferred death to such a life of 
 misery as he sav/ before him? He did not confess, however, but 
 declared his innocence, which of course nobody believes in ; if 
 he were not conscious of ;]fuilt, tlie natural thins^ would have been 
 to have invited and assisted investigation. I think, and so does 
 your papa, that his not coming forward was the strongest proof 
 of his criminality. At the end of the letter, he conjured Mr. 
 Eardley, in consideration of the number of years he served him 
 faithfully, to be kind to his wife and daughter; the latter, he 
 said, would be able to get her own living, but what would be- 
 come of the former he did not know, unless we would help 
 her — so of course we did, and have maintained her ever since. 
 However, poor creature, she will not want our help long, 
 for she is exceedingly ill, and not likely to survive; it appears 
 she has never recovered that last business about her husband. 
 I sent Dycer to see her this morning, and she thinks her very 
 bad. Lockwood, it is supposed, made away with himself; pro- 
 bably threw himself into the river. That's your papa's opinion, 
 and it was perhaps the best tiling he could do. The daughter 
 it seems is married, which is fortunate ; but Dycer says, she did 
 not seem inclined to mention to whom ; so it is probably no 
 great things of a match.' A shocking affair altogether isn't it?" 
 said Lady Glenlyon, laying down the letter. 
 
 " Yery ! " answered Vaughan. 
 
 " Poor people like that, that have nothing in the world but 
 their character, must be mad to do such things. He might have 
 been certain he couldn't escape. He j^retended he had dropped the 
 parcel in Oxford-street ; but who could believe any thing so impro- 
 bable] It's fortunate the girl has got a husband. What did Mrs. 
 Edmonstone have her at Marlow for ? was she in any situation?" 
 
 '• ITo, my mother liked her;" said Yaughan, laying down the
 
 188 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 paper, and rising from his chair, " But if we are to have a drive, 
 had not we better be ofFT' 
 
 Vaughan did not go home that night till Linny was in bed. 
 He refused to dine with Lady Glenlyon, notwithstanding they 
 pressed him to do so ; and although he would have liked very 
 well to drop into one of the theatres, he could not — being still 
 in his morning dress ; that is, he did not choose, in his present 
 position, to be seen there in an exceptionable toilette. So, after 
 taking his dinner at the Cafe de Foy, he paid two sous for a chair 
 in the Jardin dil Palais Royal, where he could sit undisturbed; 
 and, whilst the gay and varied scene passed before his eyes, 
 allow his troubled thoughts to pursue their bent. 
 
 The nights were warm enough to make the fresco agreeable; 
 and as Vaughan was neither disposed to go home, nor in a 
 humour to enjoy the pleasures of solitude, he sat on long after 
 the evening had closed in, and the shops were glittering with 
 their brilliant wares and dazzling lights. The centre of the 
 garden, however, where he and several other individuals sat, was 
 in the shade ; so that they had the advantage of the coup d'ceil, 
 without being exposed to obsei'vation themselves. At the end 
 of the first hour, "V aughan was reminded of the lapse of time by 
 the owner of the chairs, who required a second payment. 
 
 " Si, monsieur, avait encore I'intention de se reposer ; " in 
 answer to which appeal, Vaughan silently handed the woman 
 too more sous, the last he had in his pocket. Shortly after this 
 the person who occupied the chair next his rose, and another, 
 who seated himself in it, was immediately accosted with the 
 " Deux sous, s'il vous plait, monsieur ! " 
 
 " Give me change," said he in English, at the same time hand- 
 ing her a franc, a proceeding Avhich required no interpreter to 
 explain it. 
 
 " An Englishman," thought Vaughan, turning his shoulder 
 towards the stranger, lest he should recognise him for the same, 
 and thereupon address him; for he was not disposed for conver- 
 sation, especially with a compatriot.
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 189 
 
 The stranger, however, seemed by no means inclined to 
 trouble him. On the contrary, to judge by his demeanour, he 
 appeared deeply absorbed with his own affairs — a conclusion 
 which might be drawn rather by his restlessness than his repose. 
 One moment, for example, he would raise his hand to his fore- 
 head, and rub it, as if he hoped by friction to strike a light on 
 the subject of his meditations; then he would rest his chin in 
 the palm of his hand, and, closing his eyes, seem to shut out the 
 world, whilst his faculties were all condensed on one point. He 
 fidgeted on his chair, too; sometimes suddenly flinging himself 
 back, and then as suddenly bending forwards, and resting one or 
 both elbows on his knee. Now and then, he seemed to clench 
 his teeth ; and he several times, after a veiy long inspiration, 
 sent forth the air almost whistling betwixt his Hps, in such a 
 manner that Yaughan would have been annoyed by so restless 
 a neighbour, had not the evident disturbance of the man's mind 
 rather interested him, and aroused his curiosity. Had the 
 stranger been a Frenchman or an Italian, he would have 
 attached less meaning to these manifestations; but when an 
 undemonstrative Englishman is so far thrown out of his 
 equilibrium as to signalize his agitation by unconscious gestures, 
 it is to be presumed that he is either insane or in very critical 
 circumstances; and in either one or the other supposition he 
 naturally becomes an object of curiosity. "Without, therefore, 
 turning towards liim, Yaughan contrived to watch his neigh- 
 bour out of the corner of his eye. His features he could not 
 discover, both because it was dusk, and because the stranger, 
 who had on a broad-brimmed hat, sat with his face in the 
 opposite direction; but there was light enough to observe liis 
 agitated movements, and Yaughan, for a short time, was 
 diverted from the contemplation of his own embarrassments by 
 the solace of seeing a man either in greater difficulties, or with 
 less capacity for supporting them than himself 
 
 This entertainment, sony as it was, had passed away another 
 half hour, and Yaughan was just thinking of moving, when
 
 190 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 the stranger, with that abruptness that marked the pre-occnpa- 
 tion of his mind, drew out his pocket-handkerchief and wiped his 
 face; and then, suddenly rising, walked rapidly off in the direc- 
 tion of the Rue Richelieu, Yaughan following him with his eyes, 
 till he disappeared in the throng that was moving under the 
 colonnade. As he withdrew them, he observed something white 
 lying on the ground, which he stooped to pick up as he himself 
 rose. It was only the back of a letter, and he Avas about to fling 
 it away, when it occurred to him that it must have been dropped 
 by the stranger on taking out his pocket-handkerchief; where- 
 fore, with a natui^al curiosity to see the name of this unquiet 
 spirit, he went forward to one of the brilliantl}^ illuminated shop 
 windows to examine it. 
 
 The first side he looked at was covered with a sort of French 
 and Enghsh vocabulary, wliich appeared to be the resiilt of the 
 A\^-iter s studies in the former language ; together with some use- 
 ful scraps of dialogue for daily need, such as, How far is it ? 
 Can I have a bed here to-niylit ? d'c. djc. and then he turned to 
 the other, expecting to find the name of the stranger, and a 
 name there was — Yaughan started as he read it — " Lockwood ! 
 Mr. G. Lockwood, Cafe Anglais." Is it possible? Could it have 
 been Lockwood? and then he tried to recall the height and 
 figiu-e of the man as he had observed him when he walked away. 
 They were not unlike Lockwood's, inasmuch as he was a middle- 
 sized person, and so was the stranger ; but the broad-brimmed 
 hat and the dark surtout did not form the usual costume of the 
 ex-clerk, who always Avore a swallow-tailed coat, and a hat with 
 a i-ather uncommonly narrow brim. But did not this circum- 
 stance augment the probability that it really was Lockwood, since, 
 if he wished to disguise himself, he would naturally assume an attire 
 exactly the reverse of that he was accustomed to appear in ? 
 
 He had not made away Avith himself then, but was in Paris, 
 where he might any hour fall in with his daughter! How 
 strange it appeared, that only that morning Yaughan had 
 learned from Lady Glenlyon the history of Lockwood's misfor-
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 191 
 
 tune and supposed death ! But this is a kmd of coincidence 
 that eveiy body who observes must have frequently noticed. 
 We hear of a person or a place — mentioned quite accidentally 
 perhaps — for the first time in our lives to-day; and to-morrow, 
 a link of some chain from the same quarter, but altogether un- 
 connected with the fii-st, brings us into relation with the same 
 place or person. 
 
 Yes j if this was Lockwood, unless Linny shut herself up in 
 the hotel, the father and daughter might meet, — and what then? 
 It was not easy to say. Was it not possible that he had 
 actually come in pursuit of Linny? For although the Eardleys 
 were led by Mrs. Lockwood to believe that she did not know 
 what had become of her husband, it did not follow that she was 
 as ignorant as she pretended to be. The probabilities were that 
 she was not ; they might be in communication, and she might 
 have told him where their daughter was to be found. 
 
 And now if the stranger, whoever he was, had had his eye 
 upon Yaughan, he would have seen him exliibit very much the 
 same symptoms of disquietude and perplexity that he had done 
 himself He, too, rubbed his forehead, and knitted his brows, 
 and clenched his teeth, as he walked on unconsciously to the 
 Boulevards, which he paced from the Madeleine to the Faubourg 
 Poissonniere, and then back again. 
 
 At length, however, he was tired; so he turned his steps 
 homewards, where he found his wife asleep — for she was used to 
 his staying out now; and, as nothing had yet occurred to render 
 his absences subject of anxiety or suspicion, she had ceased to sit 
 up for him. He moved softly, for he did not wish to wake her; 
 but she did wake. 
 
 " Oh, Yaughan! is that you? Isn't it very late?" 
 
 '' Rather." 
 
 " Have you had a pleasant day? Where have you been ever 
 since the morning?" 
 
 " Nowhere. Idling about till I'm as tilled as a dog. I'm quite 
 sick of Paris; and we must get away from it to some other place."
 
 192 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTEH XXIII. 
 
 " Yes," said Vaughan on the following morning, " we must get 
 away from this place — I'm tired of it." 
 
 " Then," answered Mrs. Vaughan, " we must get in our bills.'* 
 
 " The people will be sure to send them when they find we're 
 going. You need not fear them forgetting it." 
 
 " But they may not hear of it. Where do you mean to 
 go?" 
 
 " I don't know. Where would you like to go?" 
 
 "I should like to go to Switzerland; but I should think, 
 since travelling is so expensive, we had better stay where we are. 
 If you find Paris dull, so you will find every other place when 
 the novelty's worn ofil" 
 
 Vaughan said he thought he should like Naples; but he ad- 
 mitted that the journey woiild be very expensive. On the 
 whole, he proposed that they should try Brussels — a plan to 
 which Linny offered no objection; when, however, she rein- 
 forced the necessity of announcing their intended departure to 
 the wine-merchant and a few other tradesmen, who, after being 
 visited by Vaughan in Lady Glenlyon's carriage, generously re- 
 quested him not to mention such a thing as paying, he desired 
 her to do nothing in it at present, since there was no telling 
 but he might alter his mind. 
 
 Linny would have been very glad to return to England, for 
 she was extremely anxious about her parents ; their silence she 
 could not comprehend — at least her mother's, whose displeasure 
 at her marriage, if it ever existed, she knew would be of very 
 short duration ; but Vaughan had so repeatedly refused to enter- 
 tain any idea of recrossing the Channel, that she forbore to express
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 193 
 
 her wishes ; and, since that gratification was denied her, pnidence, 
 she thought, forbade their moving at all, except into a cheaper 
 lodging — a measure she had frequently advocated without success. 
 At first, Yaughan, finding himself tolerably comfortable, had 
 oj)po3ed the plan, because it involved some sacrifice of his ease 
 and his pride, but latterly a more cogent reason bound him to 
 the spot; his funds were running low; he had no more money 
 left than sufficed for his daily expenditure in gloves, perfumes, 
 cab hire, and theatres, and an occasional dinner at a restaura- 
 teurs. He could not afibrd to pay his bills. Creditors may 
 be very amiable persons, but they have one characteristic in 
 common with wild beasts — which is, that the best way of keep- 
 ing them quiet is to remain still yourself; the moment you 
 exhibit signs of moving they are down upon you immediately. 
 Vaughan was aware of this peculiarity; and accordingly, though, 
 for the reasons above hinted, he would have been glad to escape 
 from Paris, he did not dare take any steps towards doing so; 
 notwithstanding that his freedom and his pleasiu"es were con- 
 siderably curtailed by the apprehension of coming into some 
 collision with Lockw^ood. Running away with Linny and mar- 
 rying her was nothing — in so doing he considered that he had 
 conferred an honour on the Lockwood family ; and had " the 
 head and front of his ofience had that extent — no more," he 
 would have met his wife's father with a patronising air of civility, 
 and then shaken him ofi* as fast as he could; but to do these 
 things we must be conscience-free. The man who can convict us 
 of a dishonest action is our master — our tyrant, if he choose to 
 be so : his eye can make us quail ; his whisper unnerve us. Once 
 upon a time he was a dwarf, and we despised him ; but he is 
 grown into a giant now, and we tremble at his approach. 
 
 The power of opinion is a curious thing when we come to con- 
 sider it ; and the world, after all, not to look too closely into its 
 motives, must be a tolerably honest world ; for if it were not so, 
 dishonesty would be able to hold its head more erect, and we 
 should not stare at a person suspected of a lapse from integrity, 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 ] 94 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 as if lie were a rare plienomenon. And what a liell upon earth 
 society would be, if the case were otherwise ! There are many 
 things done in it that will not bear the light; but the very neces- 
 sity for shrouding them in darkness, proves that honesty is the 
 rule and dishonesty the exception. 
 
 Vaughan would not have been dishonest ?/— as he would have 
 expressed it himself — ^/he could have helped it; but how can a 
 man be honest who can neither work nor beg, and yet has no 
 money 1 Some people indeed adopt the alternative of starving ; but 
 that is an expedient too romantic and too unpleasant to be gene- 
 rally entertained. It might also have been possible to spend less, 
 and devote every shilling to the pui-chase of absolute necessaries — 
 a system which, originally pursued, would have made the money 
 go a great deal farther ; but it was no use thinking of that now, 
 since the first symptoms of retrenchment would have only been 
 giving their creditors the signal for attack. So, in spite of Linny's 
 uneasiness, every thing went on as usual, Yaughan lulling the 
 hotel-keeper into repose, by mentioning that he was expecting 
 remittances from England, which by some accident had been 
 inexplicably delayed. 
 
 In the meanwliile, from the scantiness of his funds, time would 
 have hung heavy on his hands, but for the resources furnished by 
 Lady Glenlyon's devotion, which supplied him with a carriage, a 
 box at the theatre, and a recherche dinner as often as he chose 
 to enjoy these luxuries in her company. At first, on renewal of 
 their acquaintance, he had used these privileges but charily, 
 compromising betwixt his inclinations and his interest. As his 
 affairs grew worse, however, his assiduities increased. It must 
 be acknowledged that hours passed in an hotel are inexpressibly 
 wearying. One can do nothing, and there is nothing to do; where 
 there is no sense of home, it is not easy to set ourselves to any 
 occupation. An hotel is not a home, but a place to eat and sleep 
 in ; and, when we are not doing these things, we wish to be out of 
 it. Even Linny, when the weather permitted, spent a great deal 
 of her time out of doors, where she could always find plenty to
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 195 
 
 amuse her mind. For some time, Yaughan used to accompany 
 her; but by degrees this habit fell off, and latterly they scarcely 
 ever went out together. His resorts were altogether different 
 from hers; besides, her presence sometimes embarrassed him. 
 His circumscribed means and precarious position prevented his 
 producing her as his wife; and, both on her account and his own, 
 he ^\dshed to avoid placing her in equivocal situations. The inti- 
 macy with the Glenlyons, and the introduction to a better set, 
 completed this disjunction. Linny went her way, and he went 
 his. Perhaps she felt herself lonely, and possibly she felt herself 
 neglected; but she never said so, being aware that complaints do 
 not make people behave any better. If they will not treat you 
 with kindness and consideration when you do not complain, 
 they certainly vnR not when you do. It is not every woman 
 that discovei-s this secret so early as Linny had ; but she had 
 learnt it from Alice, who in expatiating, as she was wont to do 
 in her confidential moments, on her mother's patience, and virtue, 
 and beauty, used sometimes to refer to the counsels she had 
 given her for her fature guidance, during those long hours spent 
 in the sick-room, when the child, grave and thoughtful beyond 
 her years, from having no other companion, listened with reve- 
 rence to the words that fell from the lips she loved. 
 
 " Some day you'll be married," she would say, " when I shall 
 not be here. I hope you'll choose well — but generally women 
 have little choice in the matter!"' 
 
 "Why can't they choose, mama? I'm sure I would not be 
 forced to marry any body I did not like ! " 
 
 " It isn't that we are forced ; but influence and circumstances 
 mostly decide for us ; and, even when we think we have chosen 
 for ourselves, there has often, in reality, been no election ! " 
 
 "How, mama?" 
 
 " I mean that there has been no time nor opportunity for com- 
 parison. If you had only seen one man in the world, you could 
 have but a very imperfect idea of his merits." 
 
 " I should know if I liked him."
 
 196 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " And what would make you like him?" 
 " I should like him if he was good-natured and agreeable." 
 " That's the thing ! almost every man can be good-natured and 
 agreeable to a woman he desires to marry; and if he has some 
 personal advantages, and you have had no opportunity of com- 
 paring him with any other man under similar circumstances, it 
 is difficult not to like him. But it was not about your choice of 
 a husband I was going to speak; for that would be of little use, 
 I fancy. I can only pray to God, that whoever you marry you 
 may be happy ; but there is one thing that T think a woman 
 cannot learn too soon — and that is, how to make the best of 
 any husband she may get, good or bad ; and that is, never to 
 complain. Even with a good man who wishes to make you happy, 
 you will probably find some things you could wish otherwise, 
 and which, if you complain, he may alter to acommodate you ; 
 but you will have caused him to put a constraint upon himself, 
 and he will not like you the better for it. If he is not good, or 
 is not attached to you, rely on it, complaint will not mend him." 
 Alice did not repeat this word foi' word, nor remember it so, 
 but she remembered the sum of it ; and when Linny found herself 
 with a husband who required a great deal of forbearance, she 
 applied the moral to her own case. She had endeavoured to 
 curtail his expenses — that she thought her duty; but on other 
 points she never inteifered, and the consequence was, that though 
 he neglected, he loved her, and, whilst he was philandering with 
 Lady Glenlyon, his heart was at home. What a large amount of 
 suffering she thus saved herself! all the pangs of jealousy — all 
 the agonies of suspicion ! as he had no reproaches to fear, he 
 came home every night; and whenever, in short, there was 
 nothing to attract him elsewhere. If she had little of his company, 
 their intervals of reunion were not spent in wrangling, and, 
 thou2;h he neo'lected her, he was neither cold nor unkind v/hen 
 they were together. Often, indeed, he was affectionate and ten- 
 der; remorse stung him when he looked at her — so young and 
 lovely, so sweet and uncomplaining; and he would throw his
 
 LINXY LOCK WOOD. 197 
 
 arm round her waist, and, pressing her to his heart, call her 
 his " darling little wife." 
 
 The difficidty, now that his purse was so low, of finding 
 amusement, and the restraints he felt even in walking about 
 the frequented resorts lest he should fall in with Lock wood, who 
 he feared was in pursuit of him, or at least, of Linny, threw him 
 more and more into Lady Glenlyon's society. He directed his 
 steps to her hotel every day when he went out ; lounged in her 
 saloon all the morning; drove out with her in the afternoon j 
 returned to dinner after calling at home to dress, and accom- 
 panied her, if she was going to any place of public amusement, 
 which she contrived to do as often as she could. Things of this 
 sort become a habit; and many a man, especially in France 
 passes a great j)art of his time in dangling about a woman he 
 cares little for. From a habit these occupations become a 
 necessity ; and, though Yaughan had not a particle of love for 
 Lady Glenlyon, he was a good deal annoyed at finding their 
 freedom of intercourse likely to be curtailed. 
 
 " I am not going to the opera, to-night, Yaughan," said Lady 
 Glenlyon to him one day. " Sir Arthur is beginning to make 
 himself disagreeable about our being so much together. He 
 says I'm. not to suppose he's jealous; nor that he entertains the 
 slightest suspicion of any impropriety, but that I must not subject 
 him and myself to unpleasant observation. It's a great bore." 
 
 " Then I'm afi'aid I ought not to be driving with you at this 
 moment," answered Yaughan. 
 
 " We shall not meet him," returned Kate ; " he's gone to St. 
 Cloud. But I don't see why I should relinquish the society of the 
 only old friend I have in Paris, in order to humour the preju- 
 dices of people I don't care a sous for." 
 
 " I thought, fi'om what you told me, Sir Arthur was quite free 
 from any feelings of that sort, or I should have been more cau- 
 tious," said Yaughan. 
 
 "To do him justice, I believe he is," returned her ladyship; 
 " but it is that impudent fellow O'Grady, w^hom I cannot endure,
 
 198 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 and wliom I have hmsqued a good deal, tliat has put it into his 
 head. He, O'Grady I mean, thought proper to quiz him about 
 you ; Sir Arthur put him down immediately — silenced him com- 
 pletely; but he says I mustn't expose him to that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 " D — n O'Grady ! " exclaimed Vaughan, who bore the Irish- 
 man no good-will already, for the manner in which he had 
 treated himself. " However, Sir Arthur need not be apprehen- 
 sive that I shall seek to continue an acquaintance that is no 
 longer agreeable." 
 
 " Nonsense, Yaughan ! " returned Lady Glenlyon ; " don't take 
 up the thing so seriously. Sir Arthur has no desire to break 
 off the acquaintance, I'm sure." 
 
 " But I have ! " answered Yaughan, " if Sir Ai'thur has an 
 objection to unpleasant observations, so have I ; and he might 
 chance to make some that I could not brook. It is better 
 therefore, to cut the matter short at once. I don't choose to 
 visit in the house of any man to whom my visits are not 
 welcome." 
 
 " I wish I had not mentioned the subject to you at all," said 
 Lady Glenlyon ; " men are so hasty and unreasonable : I only 
 meant to give up the theatre to-night. Sir Arthur will have 
 forgotten all about it in a day or two." 
 
 ^' I have been thinking of leaving Paris for some time," said 
 Yaughan, " and it is the best thing I can do." 
 
 "Whyf inquired Lady Glenlyon; "why should you leave 
 Paris because that detestable O'Grady has thought proper to 
 make some impertinent observations regarding our intimacy ? I 
 think, if I were you, I should do just the contrary. I am quite 
 aware that he would not be sorry to succeed to the situation," 
 she added, with a significant smile ; " but I really do not see why 
 you should be in such a hurry to relinquish it to him. 
 
 This was judiciously put ; for although Yaughan cared nothing 
 for the .situation, except for the material advantages it afforded 
 him, and was far too indifferent to Cattie to be capable of jealousy,
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 199 
 
 yet he was not disposed to yield the place to O'Grady, whom he 
 disliked, nor to afford him the triumph of thinking he had ousted 
 him. 
 
 " I should like to let him see that his ruse is quite unsuccess- 
 ful," continued her ladyship ; " and, if you will leave the manage- 
 ment of this affair to me, I think we shall have that satisfaction." 
 
 It was certainly true that Sii' Biyan O'Grady bore a spite to 
 Yaughan, and that he would have been well enough pleased to 
 see him on a less comfortable footing with the Glenlyons ; but 
 his motives were not those insinuated by her ladyship, towards 
 whom he entertained no sentiment that the strictest puritanism 
 could have arraigned. His i*eason for disliking Yaughan was, 
 that he himself had beliaved shabbily to him. After having 
 lived on familiar terms, and accepted numerous hospitable invi- 
 tations to Mai'low, he had taken the earliest opportunity of 
 giving him the cold shoulder; which would not have disturbed 
 O'Grady at all, had not the proceedings, by Cattle's timely 
 intervention in Yaughan's favour, been rendered premature. 
 Under these circumstances, it was rather disagi-eeable to meet 
 him in society, and a word dropped in season might relieve him 
 of the inconvenience. His motives went no deej)er than this, 
 and Yaughan had discernment enough to interpret them so; 
 bad he been more epris with Lady Glenlyon himself, his judg- 
 ment would have been less calm. Nevertheless, the mere sug- 
 gestion that 0'Gi*ady was trying to annoy him by interrupting 
 their intimacy, had very much the effect her ladyship desired. 
 He chose to let the Irishman see that his ruse had failed; and 
 thus, instead of relinquishing each other's society, Cattie and he 
 only somewhat altered theii' aiTangements. — Beguiled the time, hy 
 looking like (lie time.
 
 200 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXrV. 
 
 It was quite true that poor Jane Lockwood vras dying. Tlie 
 last few years of her life had been full of trouble; and the 
 climax her misfortunes had lately reached was too much for 
 her. The death of her husband — for she believed him dead — 
 under such melancholy circumstances, the suspicion that rested 
 upon his name, and the consciousness that she was not blameless 
 in the business, had broken her heart — that is to say, her grief 
 and depression had deranged her digestion, and lowered her 
 vitality to a degi-ee that nothing but a totally new current 
 of events, and a thorough change in her position, could repair- 
 Poor and friendless — she moped all day in her duU lodging, 
 weeping over the memory of the happy past ; of the periods of 
 Linny's bright infancy and hopeful girlhood ; when George, con- 
 tented with his modest prosperity — tenderly loving his wife and 
 daughter — ^happy in the present, and sanguine of the future — re- 
 turned daily to his little home when his work was done, with 
 his kind, smiling face, that looked as if sorrow could never cloud 
 it. He had then, indeed, known but one sorrow — that was, 
 when he feared that Mr. Edmonstone had supei^seded him in 
 Jane's affections; and he was not made to encounter the hard 
 rubs of the world. He could float on smooth water, but he 
 could not battle against the storm — with the first wave that 
 washed over him, he gave up the struggle and went down. 
 
 On what precise rock their well-trimmed Kttle bark had 
 struck, Mrs. Lockwood had never thoroughly understood. Lock- 
 wood could not tell the cause of his dismissal from the bank ; 
 for it was out of the question to expect she would keep the 
 secret, which, in a moment of weakness and gratitude, he had
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 201 
 
 sworn should be inviolable. All slie knew was, that they were 
 ruined, and that Mr. Edmonstone was ruined too ; whilst the 
 behaviour of her acquaintance seemed to imply that her husband 
 was not considered blameless. She was also aware of the enmity 
 that subsisted betwixt the late partners; she saw that George's 
 attachment to his old friend and patron, Gervase Edmonstone, 
 was changed into hatred — as much hatred, at least, as such a 
 naturally genial nature was capable of entertaining ; and she 
 was sure that the wrong must have been great indeed, that 
 could awaken such a sentiment in his breast — a sentiment that 
 also extended itself to Yaughan ; and yet she could not forget 
 that there had been a time when Yaughan Edmonstone was 
 Lockwood's beau ideal — the perfection of every thing that was 
 handsome and gentlemanly — "the finest young man about town!" 
 How then could she blame Linny for loving him, or expect her 
 to alter her opinion because her father had ? 
 
 Subsequently, however, to her recovery, or rather partial 
 recovery, from her first illness — the illness that she had alluded 
 to in her letter to her daughter — in the hope of obtaining some 
 clue to what had happened, she had devoted several houi*s in 
 examining her husband's papers and letters. Amongst the latter, 
 besides a few regarding matters of business, she found some of 
 Mr. Edmonstone's, written during his boyish intimacy with 
 Lockwood, in a tone of perfect equality and great kindness ; let- 
 ters that went far to explain the poor clerk's devotion in after 
 years, when it is considered, that, besides these early proofs of 
 good- will, this powerful friend had resigned to him the woman 
 they both loved, (though in very different degrees,) and had con- 
 ferred on him a situation which enabled him to support his 
 family in respectability and comfort; and wliich, but for the 
 storm that burst aud overthrew the fortimes of both patron and 
 client, would have gradually matured into something much more 
 remunerative. It was evident that these letters had recently 
 been read and arranged ; for although the paper on which they 
 were written looked old, and the ink discoloured, they were care-
 
 202 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 fully sorted into packets, wliich were each encircled witli a clean 
 strip of paper, bearing the date of the year in which the enclosed 
 letters were written. There were also some marks and inter- 
 linings of passages, in red ink, which appeared to have been 
 lately made; the nature and contents of the passages so marked, 
 seeming to indicate, that Lockwood, in rej:>erusing these letters 
 by the light of later events, had sought to find indications of 
 those faults of character, and that infirmity of principle, that 
 subsequent circumstances had ripened and disclosed. 
 
 Jane V/edgewood's letters, too, written before man-iage, were 
 all arranged and docketed. After marriage there were none; for, 
 except on the occasion of one or two short visits of his to 
 Marlow, the husband and wife had never been separated. She 
 had not read them since they were written, and many a bitter 
 tear was dropped over them now. 
 
 What a melancholy thing it is to look upon such records of 
 joys for ever gone ! I often wonder how we contrive to live on 
 and retain any thing like cheerfulness, when we reflect on all we 
 have lost by the way. How much happiness we have lived out 
 that can never be revived ! How one and another has dropped 
 from our side — friends, whom we remember enjoying life so 
 freshly, going and coming, laughing, talking; doing all that we 
 do now; seeming as if all that life and motion could not cease, 
 but must go on so ever; and yet, how they are wiped out from 
 the face of the earth ! How men's tongues have forgotten to 
 speak of them, or their hearts to yearn for them ; and how their 
 places are not empty ; but — with the exception of the few who 
 have done some good work in the world, every thing is — or, at 
 least, seems as if they had never been ; for good or bad, much or 
 little, every man, as he passed across the stage, has done his poor 
 part, and helped to make up the world's history. And to think 
 how we are hxirrying on to the same blank ! Blank for all we 
 see, though not for all we hope and believe; blank to us that 
 are here, though we trust not to them that are gone ; literally, 
 hurrying ourselves so out of breath with our haste, that we
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 203 
 
 cannot stop to tliink of where we are going, nor of what kind of 
 existence awaits us there beyond ; nor whether any awaits us ; 
 for, I confess, that the belief in a future Kfe appears to me to sit 
 very loosely on civilized mankind in general. A vast proportion 
 of them, I hope, do believe in it, after a manner; but with how 
 little real interest — how vaguely, coldly, and incuriously ! How 
 few j)eople one meets who are disposed to speculate gravely, or 
 seriously discuss, this subject of deepest importance, compared 
 to which all the concerns of this life are mere childish toys ; few, 
 at least, out of the pale of the so-called religious world, whose 
 views, being fixed and limited, excluding speculation and free 
 discussion, cannot satisfy minds that have not attained that 
 desirable degree of certainty. 
 
 Amongst the papers which Lockwood had carefully arranged, 
 Jane found a letter sealed and addressed to Mr. Edmonstone, 
 with directions that it should be delivered to that gentleman 
 after his (Lockwood's) decease; or to Mr. Eardley, if Mr. Ed- 
 monstone should not survive the writer. There was also another 
 letter addressed to his wife and daughter — "jTo he opened after 
 my death.'''' 
 
 Now, Jane did not know whether her husband was dead or 
 not, though she believed he was ; but she had a strong pei-suasion 
 that she was dying herself, and she was very unwilling to leave 
 the world without acquainting herself with poor George's last 
 wishes, or whatever it might be that the letter contained. It 
 was in vain to wait for Linny, though she would rather have 
 had her daughter's presence on this, to her, solemn occasion, had 
 it been possible. As it was not, she summoned resolution, and, 
 having broken the seal, found that the cover contained two en- 
 closures, one addressed to Mr. Edmonstone, apparently a letter 
 of some length, and the other, a shorter one, addressed to Mr. 
 Eardley. On the envelope there were a few lines to Mrs Lock- 
 wood and Linny, requesting that, if they suiwived him, they 
 would deliver the enclosed letters in person. Jane felt disajv 
 pointed that this should be all; but poor George, who had,
 
 204 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 expected to die in their arms, had not thought of bequeathing 
 them a wi'itten farewell. 
 
 Her first wish was, of coui*se, to fulfil this injunction ; but as 
 she did not know where Mr. Edmonstone was to be found, and 
 was unable to seek him, she sent a message to Mr. Eardley^ 
 requesting an interview, on the plea of having a communication 
 to make from her husband ; a form of invocation pi-etty sure to 
 be successful as long as there was a possibility that the commu- 
 nication might lead to the recovery of the lost valuables. 
 
 " I wouldn't have troubled you to come here, sir, but I am not 
 able to leave this room." 
 
 " I'm sorry to see you so poorly, Mrs. Lockwood ; I gave direc- 
 tions that you should want for nothing that was necessaiy. I 
 hope my orders have been attended to." 
 
 " Thank you, sir ; your housekeeper called, and was so kind as 
 to send me some wine : the doctor says I ought to drink wine." 
 
 " I'll see that they send you some moi-e. So, you have heard 
 from Lockwood at last 1 " 
 
 " No — sir, no 1 I shall never hear from my husband again, this 
 side the gi-ave. No, sir ; it's a letter that I have found amongst 
 his papers addressed to you ; and, as George desires that I will 
 deUver it with my own hands, I took the liberty of sending to 
 you." 
 
 As it occurred to Mr. Eardley that the letter had probably 
 been indited immediately previous to Lockwood's making off 
 with the money and jewels, he opened it eagerly; but the date 
 undeceived him, and the contents proved not at all what he had 
 expected. They were as follows : — 
 
 " HoxouRED Sir, — A promise that I imprudently gave — a pro- 
 mise that has ruined my prosj^ects, reduced me and my fiimily 
 to distress, destroyed my health, and driven me to the brink of 
 despair — I do not think should be binding when I am dead. 
 I must consider what I owe to my wife and daughter, as well as 
 to others, great as my obligations may have been. I have
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 20-5 
 
 suffered, sir, deeply, terribly, in all that is dearest to a man, for 
 the latter years of my life ; but I feel that I cannot rest in my 
 grave under the imputation that has blighted me and mine. 
 God forbid that I should be ungi'ateful or unmindful of the in- 
 valuable benefits conferred ! I know and feel, that there are 
 obligations that no subsequent injury can cancel; and even from 
 the grave I am unwilling to raise an accusing voice; but I am 
 a wronged and innocent man, sir. From the day I first entered 
 your banking-house, to the day I left it — a despaii'ing, heart- 
 broken wretch — I never had any thing in view but the interest 
 of the concern; and I never did a thing, so help me God in my 
 dying hour, that I would not have done under your own eye. 
 
 " My life, I know, will not be long, for I cannot bear up 
 against this weight of trouble and disgrace; and when I am 
 gone, sir, ash him — jmt it to him as a man and a Christian — ' Wa.s 
 George Lockwood guilty?' And if he says 'Xo,' which I feel 
 sure he will — for it would be an awful thing to malign the dead 
 that cry for justice from the grave; then sir, if he says no, I 
 conjure you to clear me from all blame, and let every man upon 
 the establishment, from the highest to the lowest, hear your 
 words. . Let my name come out cleansed and pui-ified from all 
 stain ; so that my wife and daughter may not be subject to the 
 sneers and the contumely of the hard-hearted, because they bear 
 the name of the unfortunate " George Lockwood."' 
 
 'S\Tien Mr. Eardley had concluded the letter, he handed it to 
 Jane. " But," said he, " it was needless to write me all this, 
 when I showed my conviction of his innocence by reinstating 
 him in his situation — at least, you know, I made an attempt to 
 do it ; and it was not want of confidence, but his own unfor- 
 tunate incapacity, that rendered my efibrts abortive." 
 
 " Very true, sir," answered Mrs. Lockwood ; " but I perceive, 
 by the date of this letter, that it was wiitten immediately after 
 my husband's recovery fi'om his ilhiess, and before you had sent 
 Mr. Moreland to him with that message."
 
 206 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " I am free to say," continued Mr. Eardley, who could not 
 lielp harping a little upon the lost treasure, — " I am free to say, 
 that until that late untoward accident, I had entirely exonerated 
 Lockwood, and had every confidence in his integrity. What 
 could be a greater proof of it than our recommending Mr. 
 Featherstone to entrust him with that business ? " 
 
 "Oh, sir!" said Jane, bursting into tears; "it is the loss 
 of that parcel that is bringing me to the grave — for it was all 
 my fault." 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Lockwood," said Mr. Eardley, who had heard 
 her account of that affair at the time it happened, " I am very- 
 far from wishing to distress you ; and you may rest assured that, 
 with regard to the business this letter alludes to, if I had any 
 doubts before, they are now entii'ely removed ; and, although it 
 is certainly not easy to believe that a man at your husband's 
 time of life could be so careless as to drop a parcel of such value 
 in the street, yet unaccountable things do occur sometimes ; and 
 I am ready to admit that we may have been too hasty in our 
 judgment. And now, before I go, pray let me know if there is 
 any thing we can do for you." 
 
 " Nothing, sir, thank you ! But, under the same cover, there 
 was a letter for Mr. Edmonstone, and I don't know where to 
 send to him." 
 
 " I believe Mr. Edmonstone is living somewhere about the 
 New Road; but, if you will entiiist me with the letter, I'll take 
 care it reaches him;" and Mr. Eardley held out his hand to 
 take the paper, which he eyed with considerable curiosity, since 
 it was likely to be of a much more interesting nature than the 
 letter addressed to himself, and might indeed possibly contain 
 disclosures of no small importance concerning matters he had 
 never got satisfactorily cleared up. 
 
 " I can't do that, sir," answered Mre. Lockwood ; " I must 
 see Mr. Edmonstone, and give it him myself, as poor George de- 
 sires; and, if you would take the trouble of letting me know his 
 exact address, it would be the greatest favour you could do me."
 
 LINNY LOCK WOOD. 207 
 
 Mr. Eardley said, tliat he believed some of tlie clerks knew 
 where Mr. Edmonstone was living; and he left her, promising 
 that she should hear from him on the following day, 
 
 Mr. Edmonstone, whose love of money had seduced him first 
 into speciilations that brought him to the verge of ruin, and then 
 into crime, in order to elude the consequences of his imprudence, 
 had come to be a poorer man than the poor clerk whom he had 
 cruelly di-agged down with him. He was poorer by all his habits 
 and all his wants, as well as by the habits and wants of his un- 
 happy wife, who, like himself, had been born and brought up in 
 affluence and luxury. At the time he received Mrs. Lockwood's 
 summons, they were inhabiting a mean lodging in the outskirts 
 of the town, and a more miserable couple scarcely existed on the 
 face of the earth. Heaven knows, poverty is bad enough, even 
 where it is not aggravated by the stings of self-reproach, and the 
 contrast with former experiences; but where it is, and where 
 people are thrown out of all their habits and associations, we 
 must not withhold our comj^assion and sympathy, on the plea 
 that their misfortunes have originated in their own misconduct. 
 
 It was towards the close of the evening, that a tall, rather 
 shabbily dressed man, but still having the air of a gentleman, 
 knocked at the door of a house in Eupert- street, and inquired 
 for Mrs. Loclrvvood. 
 
 " Mrs. Lockwood's very ill," said the maid, " and I don't think 
 she can see any body." 
 
 " I think she'll see me," returned the visiter. " Go and say 
 that it is the gentleman she requested to call;" and the maid 
 presently returned with an invitation to walk in. 
 
 Mrs. Lockwood, with death in her face, was reclining in an 
 old arm-chair, in a small back parlour, which served both for 
 sitting-room, bed-room, and kitchen (only that she had had little 
 occasion to use it in the latter capacity), when the lover of her 
 youth — the once gay, handsome Gervase Edmonstone — entered. 
 As their eyes met the same recollections rushed upon both; the 
 recollection of years long ago, when the young rich squire courted
 
 208 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 the attorney's daugliter ; when he was the best match, and she the 
 handsomest gM, in the county. There she sat now, in her squalid 
 little room, wrapped in an old shawl, her faded cheeks hollow with 
 sickaess and sorrow; and the large bright eyes, that he used to 
 admire so much, staring with dim wonder on this shadow of the 
 past that stood before her; for although death w^as yet far from 
 him, he was in person not much less altered than she was. The 
 flush of good living, and the embonpoint of middle life, which had 
 succeeded to the bloom and slender forms of youth, had changed 
 into a lean sallo^vness ; the head, which used to hold itself proudly 
 u}^, ready to meet every glance, was now bent forw^ard; and 
 though little past the middle term of life, he entered the room 
 like an old man. 
 
 When he had closed the door behind him, he stood for a 
 moment or two with his hand resting on the handle, contemplat- 
 ing the scene before liim. Then he advanced, and silently 
 drawing a chair from the wall and placing it beside hers, he sat 
 do-\^Ti and burst into tears; his breast heaving, with the strong 
 passion that wrought him, like the breast of a weeping child. 
 Jane wept, too ; but she was too feeble for passion — her struggle 
 was drawing to a close ; and her tears streamed gently over her 
 wan cheeks. There had been a period when Mr. Edmonstone 
 was the great man to Mrs. Lockwood, the poor clerk's wife ; but 
 as, in the beginning, love had brought him down to her level, so 
 did misery now. The first words he uttered were — " My God ! 
 my God ! " 
 
 " Ah !" said Jane, wdio from the softness of her nature, could 
 not, in spite of all the injury she now knew he had done her 
 family, help sympathising with the anguish she beheld, " who 
 would have thought it ! You ruined ; poor George dead by his 
 own rash act ; and I dying in this miserable lodging of a broken 
 heart, without a creature near that cares for me ! " 
 
 "Is George dead?" said Mr. Edmonstone. 
 
 " He must be," she answered, " or he would have returned to 
 me before this. You heard, I suppose, what happened?"
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 20,9 
 
 "I heard sometlimg about his losing some money of Mr. 
 Eardley's; Tiggs mentioned it to me. Was it never found T' 
 
 "Never; he dropped the parcel on a rainy night, in Oxford- 
 street, as he was going to Cavendish-square; and he couldn't 
 face Mr. Eardley after all that had happened, poor soul ! and 
 so — I suppose — " and she stopped, choked by her tears. 
 
 " And is it some message he left for me that you have to 
 deliver?" 
 
 " It's a letter that I found amongst his papers. There was 
 one, also, to Mr. Eardley, and he desires that I will deUver them 
 in person after his death. Poor George! he seems to have 
 thought he should not live long after that first business. He 
 never lifted up his head properly after that." 
 
 " Has Mr. Eardley got his letter?" 
 
 " Yes ; he came here, and I gave it to him. There's yours." 
 
 " Do you know what was in the letter to Mr. Eardley]" 
 
 " Yes, I do ; he showed it to me. George tells him in it what 
 I'm sure Mr. Eardley believed before, that he had never done a 
 thing to wrong him, or the bank, in his life; and well you know 
 he never did!" Mr. Edmonstone sat with his elbow resting on 
 the table, and the upper part of his face buiied in his hand ; but 
 she saw the quivering of his lip. " You'll see," she continued, 
 " what George says ; but I know, by his letter to Mr. Eardley, 
 what he wants — he wants you to do him justice, that he may, 
 at last, find rest in his grave ! " 
 
 " Poor George ! " said Mr. Edmonstone, after a pause. " God 
 knows, I meant well by him, for he was the only boy I ever 
 cared for, when I was one myself; and I always intended, if the 
 opportimity offered, to help him on in the world as far as I was 
 able." 
 
 " And you did a great deal for us ; and, if ever a man loved 
 another, George loved you. He'd have gone through fire and 
 water for you, any day." 
 
 " Poor George!" said Mr. Edmonstone again. " I was glad 
 to hear Mr. Eardley had taken him by the hand; and, rely on it, 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 he wouldn't have done tliat if he had entertained any nn- 
 favourable opinion. There's not a more rigid man alive than 
 Mr. Eardley." 
 
 " But the wishes of the dead are sacred, Mr. Edmonstone; 
 and, as I am going where I hope I shall meet my husband, you 
 must do what he asks, that I may be able to tell him it is done." 
 " What can I do? I never see Mr. Eardley." 
 " You can write. Here is the pen and ink, and I will deliver 
 the letter to Mr. Eardley myself. Then I shall be able to die in 
 peace." 
 
 " What has become of your daughter?" inquired Mr. 
 Edmonstone, whilst Mrs. Lockwood was opening the table 
 drawer to take out a sheet of paper. 
 
 " Don't you know?" she asked with surprise. 
 "No; how should I?" 
 " You don't know that she's married?'* 
 " No; who did she marry?" 
 
 " Well, write that first, and then I'll tell you about it." 
 " I can only say," said Mr. Edmonstone, writing, " that I 
 believe Greorge Lockwood's honesty to have been thoroughly un- 
 impeachable; and that I am persuaded he was a man of the 
 highest integrity. Will that do?" 
 
 " Yes; sign it, and give it me. Thank you. And now I'll 
 tell you who Linny is married to; because, as I am afraid it will 
 make you angry, it is better you should hear it from me. Do 
 you know where your son is?" 
 
 " On the continent, I believe. I rather think in Paris," 
 answered Mr. Edmonstone with a deep sigh; for the thought of 
 his son's i-uined fortunes was the sorest wound in his heart. 
 " And are you not aware that he's married ? " 
 "Married! Yaughan?" exclaimed Mr. Edmonstone, pushing 
 back his chair and rising ; " Yaughan married ! Impossible ! " 
 " George never encouraged it, remember; nor ever would." 
 " You don't mean to say that — ," and, pale with passion, the 
 proud man's voice failed him.
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 211 
 
 " Yes, I do ; and it's no use making bad worse ; what's done 
 can t be undone. Linny's a good girl, and you'll never bare rea- 
 son to be ashamed of her. You know we gave her the best of 
 education." 
 
 But Mr, Edmonstone was not disposed to listen to any pal- 
 liations. For a moment his rage choked him; but his set teeth 
 and clenched fingers spoke his feelings more eloquently than 
 words could have done. Then, turning suddenly, he made a step 
 towards Mrs. Loekwood, with a look so savage that, thinking 
 he was going to strike her, she held up her baud to ward off the 
 blow. What he might have done or said had he seen before him 
 a woman in the vigour of health, there is no saying; but the 
 sight of that wasted figure and ghastly' face — ghastly with horror 
 now, as weU as sickness — seemed to recall him to the recollection 
 that she was dying, and arrested his pui-pose. He di-ew in his 
 I'reath with a long inspii-ation, and then hissing through his 
 teeth the word ••damnation;" he nished fi*antically out of the 
 house.
 
 21 2 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 After encountering various difficulties, Lockwood had arnved 
 in Paris, where he made his way to the Cafe Anglais, and intro- 
 duced himself to the English waiter, whom the host of the King's 
 Arms had alluded to as his "nevey Jem." Jem who, like his 
 uncle, had been born in the neighbourhood of Marlow, knew 
 Yaughan Edmonstone perfectly well by sight, and confirmed, on 
 inquiry, what he had said in his letter, namely, that he had seen 
 him often in company with a lady; but he did not know where 
 he lived. He had also seen him pass in a carriage belonging to 
 some English family of distinction ; there was always a lady with 
 him on these occasions, but he was not sure whether it was the 
 same lady. AVith regard to his circumstances, Jem said he could 
 only judge by appearances, but they seemed flourishing. This 
 report rather puzzled Lockwood, and rendered him uncertain how 
 to act. Vaughan might have been running away with an heiress 
 when Gamble saw him, and his sudden prosperity might be the 
 result of that enterprise. Undertakings like this of George's 
 always look best at a distance. He felt like a man who has 
 rushed after another in the street, intending to accuse him of 
 having picked his pocket, and who out of breath, and " fiery red 
 with haste," finds himself alongside of a quiet, demure, moral- 
 looking person, whom to impeach would appear both dangerous 
 and ridiculous. How could he, George Lockwood, such a 
 beggarly fellow as he knew he appeared, accuse a gentleman that 
 wore canary-coloured gloves, carried a silver-headed cane, and 
 drove through the streets of Paris in a splended equipage, of 
 having robbed him? And on what grounds? The idea seemed
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 213 
 
 absurd; and a reaction from the sanguine expectations with 
 which he had commenced his journey sunk him deeper than ever 
 in despondency. He regretted, now, that he had entered on 
 what he considered a "wild-goose chase," and repented that, 
 instead of impeaching Vaughan at the police-office, he had not 
 gone to Mr. Eardley and demanded an investigation. He would 
 have done it now, but that he had no money to carry him back 
 to England; and, but for the scraps administered by Jem, he 
 would have had nothing to eat where he was. In consequence 
 of this powerful attraction to the Cafe Anglais, he was generally 
 hanging about the door; and Jem sometimes contrived to put 
 him in the way of earning a few shillings from the English 
 customers who happened to want some trifling service ; and at 
 length a gentleman, who found it necessary to discharge the man 
 be had brought from England, engaged George, which was the 
 name the ex-clerk was known by, to wait upon him for a couple 
 of months. 
 
 This gentleman was Sir Bryan O' Grady, who by reputation 
 was no stranger to Lockwood, although they had never met ; but 
 lie knew that Sir Bryan was one of the visiters at Marlow, and 
 that Linny had met him there. He therefore cautioned Jem 
 not to speak of him by any other name than George. 
 
 " If Ire asks any questions, say I'm called Smith." 
 
 One day, when Lockwood had been about a fortnight in this 
 situation, Sir Bryan, after wi'iting and sealing a letter which he 
 put in his pocket, bade him take his hat and accompany him to 
 the Rue Yivienne. 
 
 " Wait here a minute," he said, as he disappeared within the 
 door of the reading-ix)om ; " I'll speak to you presently." 
 
 Lockwood set his back against the rails, and watched the 
 people going in and out, taking no precautions to conceal himself, 
 for he did not expect any body there would know him. 
 Presently, however, a carriage drove up, out of which stepped 
 Vaughan Edmonstone, who, having carelessly kissed his hand to 
 the lady he was leaving, was tiiming to ascend the steps when
 
 214 LINNY LOCKWOOD, 
 
 his eye fell full upon Lockwood. He started, and appeared to 
 be hesitating whether to recognise him or not, when the door of 
 the reading-room opened again and Sir Bryan O'Grrady came out, 
 who, glancing at Yaughan as he passed, beckoned to Lockwood 
 to follow him. 
 
 " I want you to take this letter," he said, " to the Hotel 
 Yalmont. It's in the Rue Richelieu. Go with it immediately, 
 and inquire for the apartments of the lady it's addressed to, and 
 deliver it to her yourself" 
 
 In the mean time, Vaughan pushed open the door, and went 
 into the reading-room in a state of mind that may be described 
 as resulting in an utter uncertainty as to whether he stood up- 
 on his head or his heels. Disagreeable events of the above kind 
 always occur when they are least looked for ; and this ren- 
 contre took Yaughan as much by surprise as if he had had no 
 reason to suspect the presence of his father-in-iaw in Paris. For 
 som.e time after the incident in the Palais Royal, he never went 
 into the street without expecting to run against him, but as time 
 flew by, the impression faded ; and when he stepped out of Lady 
 Glenlyon's carriage on that day, there was nobody further from 
 his thoughts than George Lockwood. Not that his thoughts 
 were of a very agreeable character either; on the contrary, his 
 pecuniary emban-assments, which were daily increasing, occupied 
 them more and more, and were apt to throw him into what is 
 called a "brown study " whenever conversation flagged. In short, 
 it was frequently with an eflfort he maintained his share of it when 
 in company ; and Lady Glenlyon had in the course of that very 
 drive, more than once laid her hand on his arm and said, " Yaughan, 
 Avhat are you thinking of? I'm sure you have something on your 
 mind." And as his pride would not allow him to confess the 
 cause of his uneasiness, she suspected it might be something con- 
 nected with herself Pei-haps it was love, and regi^t that she was 
 not his ! Her devotion had vanquished and won him at last ; 
 when she sounded him, to try and ascertain if this were the case, 
 he only evaded but did not deny. He could not afford to do
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 215 
 
 that now. He was too poor to run the risk of offending her, for 
 what else had he to cling to, unless indeed he could be content 
 with honest poverty and Linny ; but unfortunately it was rather 
 late for that expedient, even had he been disposed to try it ; 
 since the jwemier 2^as was impracticable — namely, to pay his 
 creditors, without which initiative step society would not allow 
 him to pursue the experiment. It is easy to get wrong; but, 
 oh, how difficult it is to get right again, even where there is the 
 jiearty good-will to do it ! The world will not help you up. It 
 thrusts its hands into its breeches' pockets, and refuses to lend 
 you even so much as a finger to hang on to. 
 
 Vaughan Edmonstone, indeed, reared in luxury and habits 
 of self-indulgence, was not capable of any strong resolutions or 
 strenuous endeavours after virtue ; but it must be admitted, even 
 if he had, that considerable obstacles lay in his way. Linny had a 
 decided objection to leaving Paris in debt. Conscientious by na- 
 ture, and belonging to a class amongst whom honesty in pecuniary 
 matters is inculcated as the cardinal virtue, it was an idea she could 
 not entertain; and accordingly, whenever Vaughan began to talk 
 of moving, she began to talk of the bills. This antagonism fixed 
 him in Paiis; whilst the fear of exciting suspicion forbade re- 
 trenchment and fixed him in the hotel; and now here was his 
 father-in-law come, to complicate the situation ! And not only 
 come, but already in communicatien with Sir Bryan O'Grady, a 
 man who, whatever might be his reasons, appeared to bear 
 Vaughan no good-will. 
 
 " I'll thank you for that paper, if you are not reading it," said 
 a gentleman somewhat abruptly, tired of waiting for The Times 
 which the young man was unconsciously holding in his hand. 
 
 " You shall have it when I have done with it, sir," answered 
 the pai-ty in possession, who was by no means in an accommo- 
 dating mood ; at the same time settling himself in his chaix^, and 
 arranging the paper as if he intended to begin at the fix\st line 
 and read down to the last. 
 
 " If tliis should meet the eye of George L d, who lately
 
 216 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 called at the police-office, Bow- street, to give iDformation 
 regarding the supposed finder of a parcel dropped in Oxford- street, 
 he is requested to call again." 
 
 Yaughan continued to hold the paper in his hand for nearly 
 half an hour, but he never got farther than that advertisement, 
 which w^as the third from the top in the second column. Over 
 and over, and over again, he read it, tiying to extract the whole 
 meaning of the w^ords; dissecting and analysing, i"wisting and 
 
 turning it: reflecting how many George L d's there must 
 
 be in the world, and how many parcels must be dropped in Ox- 
 ford-street j and yet unable to relieve himself from the alarming 
 conviction, that the person and the parcel alluded to were the 
 identical ones with which he had est-ablished such an unfortunate 
 connexion. "Who it was that had dropped it, until Lady Glen- 
 lyon told him, he had never had the most remote idea. It was 
 the purest accident that caused him to be within a few yards of 
 the loser at that critical moment; and when, seeing some white 
 object on the ground, he stooped to pick it up, he perceived no- 
 body at hand to claim it. In that short interval, George, whom 
 Vaughan had not recognised, had got considei-ably in advance ; 
 whilst the finder pursued his way carelessly holding the thing in 
 his hand till he reached the place of his destination. Then he 
 looked for the superscription, but although the pareel was sealed 
 with red wax, there was none. So, after some delibeiTttion, he 
 broke the seal, when out fell a small packet tied with red tape. 
 On the inner envelope was inscribed the name of " T. Fcather- 
 stoQie, Esqim:e,'' but without any address. So he laid the parcel 
 on the table, and picked up the other which was not sealed, and 
 which he found to contain bank-notes to the amount of five hun- 
 dred pounds ; a sight which made his heart stand still betwixt 
 fear and joy. He felt like a man who had raised the devil. 
 Here was that which would relieve him from present difficulties^ 
 and pi'ocure him many things he desired — but at what a cost I 
 The cost of eternal bondage; never, never again to be free. This 
 metaphorical bondage is, I suppose, the real interpretation af tUo
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 217 
 
 old superstition, that a man may insure certain earthly prospe- 
 lities and delights by selling himself to the devil. There is a 
 sublime truth iii the fable; and if people did but know what a 
 cruel bondage they incur by the commission of a crime, and how 
 inexorably the penalty is reclaimed, they would never strike the 
 bargain, let the tempter assume what seducing shapes he would. 
 When he had recovered the first surprise, 'V^aughan laid the 
 notes on the table, and sat down in order to summon his com- 
 posure, and review his situation. He was, as we have seen, in 
 debt, and Mr. Gamble was by no means his only creditor; for, 
 until his father's ruin had become publicly kno^vn, the tradesmen 
 whom he had formerly employed had not refused to supply him. 
 For some time past, however, they had; and the consequence 
 was, that having no money, and being unable to earn any, he had 
 been taking a painful lesson in the shifts and expedients that 
 poverty is put to. He had made acquaintance with pa^vn- 
 brokers and old clothesmen ; and, after devouring his dressing- 
 case, and the silver-mounted articles of his toilet-table, he had 
 been obliged to live on his coats and pantaloons, till his ward- 
 robe Avas reduced to the lowest ebb. As long as he could dress 
 well, and keep up some appearance, his former companions, 
 although many of them gave him the cold shoulder, had not quite 
 cut him; but when he began to look seedy, they did — it being a 
 received axiom, that a man who dresses well, though at his tailor's 
 expense, is admissible into society, whilst one whom the tailor 
 refuses to dress, is not ; and in the worldly view of the matter, 
 the criterion is not a bad one, for the tailor will generally help 
 to keep a man's head above water as long as there is the least 
 buoyancy in him, and most times only lets him go when he is 
 past all hope. Under these circumstances, London was hateful 
 to Yaughan, and he only stayed in it because he was aware that 
 he would be stiU worse ofi" any where else ; but here w^as a means 
 of escape from those accumulated difficulties and mortifications 
 that seemed quite miraculously thrust upon him in the hour of 
 need — should he accept it ]
 
 218 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 There was not much time for deliberation; for no douht 
 speedy measures would be taken for the recovery of the packet, 
 in the face of which, inexperienced as he was in crime, he could 
 not have dared to detain it. To deliver it up at once, or keep 
 it and fly, v/ere his alternatives; and half the night was passed 
 in the struggle betwixt what remained of his pride and his prin- 
 ciples, and his desires. To continue much longer as he was 
 seemed impossible — something he must do, good or bad, to change 
 the state of affairs; and what good or useful thing could he dol 
 No doubt there were things to be done; but it would have 
 demanded far more energy than Yaughan Edmonstone had to 
 discover what they Avere, and how to set about them. When 
 a man is down it is not an easy matter to get up again, without 
 soiling his fingers; and to a young fellow, brought up in luxury 
 and idleness like Vaughan, who felt as if all society was leagued 
 against him, any effort he could make appeared utterly hopeless. 
 He almost thought he would keep the money. Then he arose, 
 took up the other packet, and examined it. The contents were 
 evidently not bank-notes; but from the paper and the shape 
 it occurred to him that it was a jeweller s parcel; and on examining 
 the seal he saw that it bore the name of Hamlet. Featherstone, 
 too, v/as not a common name ; and, although he was not aware 
 that Mrs. Eardley's brother had returned to England, he thought 
 it highly jDrobable that the property belonged to him ; " and he 
 is so rich, and so indifferent about money, that he will never feel 
 the loss of it." 
 
 And this reflection was very soothing to Yaughan's conscience, 
 since it left him at liberty to believe that, had he had any reason 
 to suppose the appropriation of the treasure would have distressed 
 the owner, he would not on any account have retained it. So, 
 after a struggle, he broke the seal, and his knowledge of jewels 
 was sufficient to give him a fair notion of the value of what he 
 saw. Probably the bracelet was designed for Mrs. Eardley or 
 her daughter, since they were Mr. Featherstone's nearest con- 
 nexions; and, by the by, Cattie was to be his heir. The better
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 219 
 
 Tiffht, Yaughan though t, lie had to the jewels; for well he kncAv 
 that she would willingly have given them to hini, and herself 
 into the bargain, if she could. On the whole, it seemed an 
 equitable adjustment of aifaii's that he should find this property, 
 antl no more than was due to him in compensation for the 
 numerous wrongs he had sustained. Finally, he thought he 
 would visit an acquaintance of his in the neighbourhood of 
 Leicester-square, and hear what he had to say about the diamonds. 
 He could decide afterwards. So, having hid the notes under the 
 mattress of his bed, he took the bracelet with him, and proceeded 
 to disturb the slumbers of the worthy Mr. Solomons, who, it 
 being by this time past midnight, was already snoring beside 
 his beloved Leah. A hint, however, that he was wanted for 
 something ^:>a?-^ic?;/ar, soon brought him do^Ti-stairs ; visits 
 of that mysterious nature, and at like untimely hours, pro^dng 
 generally sufficiently interesting to compensate for the annoyance 
 of leaving his bed. 
 
 Yaughan had had several dealings with ^Ir. Solomons before, 
 and the Jew had purchased of him articles of no inconsiderable 
 value, but none of so much as this ; and the young man felt that 
 offering such a thing for sale, in the present state of his fortunes, 
 must inevitably subject him to suspicion. This gave him the 
 exjierience of a new pain, for it was the first time his pride had 
 been wounded on that side ; he had been looked on coldly by 
 his friends, and been cut by his acquaintance ; been dunned for 
 the rent of his lodging, and refused further credit by his trades- 
 men ; but he had not quailed under the eye of suspicion. He 
 tried to hide his embarrassment by an affectation of regret at 
 parting with an object which, he hinted, associations had 
 rendered dear to him ; but Mr. Solomons had been called out of 
 his bed too often on similar pressing occasions, not to understand 
 pretty well the nature of the urgency. Yaughan saw that he 
 did, and could not liide his confusion; and the pangs of shame, 
 combined ^dth the apprehensions that the Jew's inconvenient 
 discernment awakened, made him heartily repent that he had
 
 220 LINNY LOCKWOCD. 
 
 embarked in such a perilous enterprise. But tliere was no re- 
 treating now, since his security depended on Mr. Solomons' 
 silence, which could only be effectually secured by his complicity. 
 So a bargain was hurried through, of which it is needless to 
 mention who had the best; and then, jumping into a hackney 
 coach, he returned to his lodgings to fetch the notes aad dis- 
 charge liis rent.
 
 LI>'XY LOCKWOOD. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXTI. 
 
 But to return to Paris and our story. 
 
 As Vaughan was to dine with Lady Glenlyon on the day he 
 saw Lockwood in the Paie Tivienne, he was obliged to go home 
 to dress; and, as he ascended the stairs of the Hotel de Valmont, 
 it was with a heavy step and a strong preseutiment of eviL 
 Linny was in her bed-room, and the moment his eye fell upon 
 her face, he perceived that something had happened to distress 
 her; for the t^ars were not yet dry upon her cheek. At an- 
 other time he would have inquired what was wrong, but now he 
 durst not ; so, pretending not to observe any thing unusual, he 
 only asked her if his things were ready for di-essing, and devoted 
 himself at once to the affairs of the toilet, without farther parley. 
 This kind of embari-assment in married life is one of the unfor- 
 tunate consequences of having any thing to conceal Dreading 
 that some accidental word may spring a mine, people take refuge 
 in silence and reserve, frequently thereby creating suspicions of 
 something much worse than the reality, and indicting far more 
 pain than a knowledge of the truth coull have occasioned. 
 
 Vaughan was not angry with his wife, and Lady Glenlyon 
 had not superseded her in his affections; yet his l^ehaviour 
 might have led any body reasonably to conclude that one or 
 other was the case, so drily and ciu'tly he spoke to her, and with 
 eyes that never met hei-s. Again and again the tears brimmetl 
 into Linny's eyes, and again and again she wiped them away 
 behind his back; and he saw it all, too, not with his eyes, but 
 as we see those things by some other sense, that informs us of 
 what is passing where we dare not look. He fancied that she 
 wished him to ask her what was the matter, and so to brine:
 
 222 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 about an eclaircissement ; but the more lie tlionglit she wished 
 this, the more he dreaded it, and the colder and colder he grew, 
 till, having concluded his toilet, he seized his hat, and saying he 
 feared it was late, he quitted the room and rushed down-stairs 
 into the street. He was, in fact, too early ; but as he had no 
 other place to go to, he stopjped the first fiacre he saw, and drove 
 to Lady Glenlyon's hotel. Her ladyship was still in her dressing- 
 room, and Sir Arthur had not yet returned from his ride ; so he 
 threw himself upon a sofa in Cattle's boudoir and took up a book. 
 Presently, one of the servants came in to arrange the tables; 
 then another, to do something else. A third time the door 
 opened, but Vaughan did uot look round, as it was not the one 
 communicating with Lady Glenlyon's apartment, through which 
 he knew she would come; so he lay still, turning over the leaves 
 of the book, not reading, but suppressing disagreeable thoughts, 
 by letting his eye wander over the pages. After an instant the 
 door closed again; then he looked round, but there was nobody, 
 and he continued to turn over the leaves. The last intruder was 
 Sir Arthur Glenlyon, After this a considerable time elapsed 
 without any interruption, till Vaughan began to yawn and look 
 at the Dresden clock that stood on the chimneypiece. It was 
 considerably past the hour of dinner, and he rose from the sofa, 
 and stretched himself, wondering at the unusual irregularity. 
 He knew no strangers were expected, as he and her ladyship 
 were going to the Italiens, to witness the production of a new 
 opera, so they could not be waiting for the company. At length 
 lie rang the bell, and inquired whether Sir Arthur had returned. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Isn't it very late?" 
 
 " Yes, sir; dinner's been waiting some time." 
 
 " Lady Glenlyon is not unwell, is she ] " 
 
 " Not that I know of, sir." 
 
 The man was just retiring when Vaughan added, " Does she 
 know I am here?" 
 
 " Mrs. Wharton told her ladyship you were here, sir."
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 223 
 
 Yiiuglian began to feel iincomfoi-table, that is to say — for he 
 was uncomfoiTiable before — he began to feel apprehensive that 
 there was what he would have denominated in his gay days " a 
 screw loose." He fcincied the servant looked as if he knew more 
 than he said. Had Lady Glenlyon heard any thing? Or had 
 Sir Arthur? Then the blood rushed to his cheeks as he recollected 
 that they were acquainted with Sir Bryan O'Grady; at least 
 Sir Arthur was, for Kate had withdrawn her countenance from 
 the baronet, because Vaughan disliked him. He started from 
 the sofa and seized his hat j but at that moment the door opened 
 and Sir Arthur entered, bowing coolly, and saying, that he 
 feared it was late, but that he believed the dinner was on the 
 table; and then, turning round, he led the way into the salle a 
 7nanger, Yaughan following with feelings that " may be better 
 conceived then described." 
 
 " Lady Glenlyon requests you will excuse her, as she is not 
 very well," said Sir Arthur. 
 
 Yaughan tried to say something, but the words stuck in his 
 throat; so he addressed himself to the potage and his roll, 
 affecting to eat as if the delay of dinuer had sharpened his 
 appetite. Whilst the servants were changing the plates, he 
 succeeded by a violent effort in making an observation on the 
 weather, to which Sir Arthur responded with cold civility. A 
 few remarks on the equestrians in the Bois de Boulogne and the 
 number of English in Paris, however, was all that his utmost 
 exertions could elicit in the way of conversation; and most 
 assuredly " a dinner of herbs" in his own apartments would have 
 been much better that day than all the luxuries of Sir Arthur 
 Glenlyon's table. 
 
 But the most trying moment was when the servants quitted 
 the room, and the two gentlemen were left alone. " Now it will 
 come," thought Yaughan: he was mistaken, however. Sir 
 Arthur continued to obsei-ve the same distant civility; few 
 words were spoken; but those that were, regarded only the most 
 indifferent subjects. Yaughan longed to get out of the room;
 
 224 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 but he dreaded making the attempt, lest a move should produce 
 the crisis. Still he felt he ought to go ; to sit there iinder such 
 circumstances sipping Sir Arthur's claret, was like a sneak and 
 a coward. Moreover, it struck him that Sir Arthur, from his 
 increasing abstraction, was preparing to say something; sum- 
 moning resolution to enter on a disagreeable subject, and hesita- 
 ting how to begin. Yaughan felt he could not face it, whatever 
 it was, and suddenly, with a desperate resolution, he rose; but 
 of course, his hat was not in the salle a manger, and to make 
 such an exit as that without your hat in your hand, is at once 
 both difficult and absurd ; the snatching up the hat being, as it 
 were, the natural and indispensable preliminary to such a climax. 
 Seeing a man rush out of the room without, suggests the idea 
 that he is taken ill, and all the dignity of wounded honour and 
 hurt feelings is entirely quashed. Vaughan felt the awkward- 
 ness, looked about for his hat, and " damned it " for not being 
 where of course he knew it was not. Sir Arthur rose ; Vaughan 
 rushed to the door, opened it, called " Bastide ! mon chapeau ! 
 Diable! Ou est il done?" 
 
 The servants, who were in the anteroom discussing the present 
 aspect of domestic affairs, and the clouds that seemed to be 
 lowering in the horizon, which of course had not escaped their 
 observation, started up from the reclining postures in which they 
 were indulging, whilst Bastide snatched up the hat, and advanced 
 with it in his hand. All this was the work of a minute ; Sir 
 Ai'thur seemed to be taken by surprise. 
 
 " Good-evening, sir," said Vaughan, feeling more able to cope 
 with the situation now that he had his hat in his hand; and, 
 closing the door sharply behind him, he passed hastily through 
 the suite of apartments, down the wide staircase, into the street. 
 
 For the first few minutes he felt inexpressibly relieved, like a 
 bird escaped from a boy's hand into the free air again, and he 
 strode away from the house as if he were leaving all his cares 
 behind hiui. " Mais, helas ! lis montent en croupe et galoppent 
 avec nous." And accordingly they soon overtook him. What
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 225 
 
 sKould he do now ? Where go] To the Hotel Yalmont? But 
 Linny would not be in bed yet, and he dreaded to hear what she 
 might have to say. Probably she would not go to bed at all ; 
 and almost certainly he would find her awake. She had never 
 reproached him, never complained, nor did he know that she was 
 hitherto conscious of having any reason to do so. But the storm 
 seemed gathering about him now, and those imaccustomed tears 
 of hers — for Linny, though often serious and anxious, had never 
 v^xhibited tokens of being unhappy — portended foul weather at 
 home. Then there was the Palais Eoyal, a favourite evening lounge 
 of his when he was, what is familiarly called, out of sorts; because 
 there was always enough to divert his mind, and little danger of 
 meeting his acquaintance; but now he might meet Lockwood. 
 Finally, he resolved to go and see the new opera, and that would 
 divert him, and he felt a curiosity also to see if Lady Glenlyon 
 was there. 
 
 The Italian company then occupied the Salle Pavart, which 
 has since been destroyed by fire, and when he reached the Boule- 
 vards des ItaKens, the Qiteue already extended to some distance. 
 He had no chance of a box, as he could not present himself at 
 Lady Glenlyon's ; so he made for one of the other doors, and after 
 waiting upwards of half an hour, he found himself seated in the 
 back row of the parterre. When people are in an imbroglio like 
 Yaughan's, they have enough to think of; the hour he had to 
 wait soon passed, and the fashionable company began to take 
 their places in the boxes. As it was intended lie should go to 
 the opera, he had his lorgnette in his pocket, so that he could 
 iiispect each party as they entered; and, just before the curtain 
 rose. Lady Glenlyon arrived, accompanied by her husband — a 
 very unusual circumstance, since Sii* Arthur had no taste for 
 music, and always avowed that he thought an opera the greatest 
 of bores. She seated herself as far out of sight as she could, and, 
 leaning her head on her hand, directed her attention to the stao-e. 
 Sir Arthur sat forward, resting his arms on the front of the box, 
 and apparently amusing himself with looking about the house. 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 LI>XY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Kate sat silent and motionless; making no observation to IitT 
 companion, nor seeming to sliai^e the enthusiasm that the musie 
 inspired. There was something in her attitude and dem^anour 
 that denoted great depression or gi-eat ill-humour, and Vanghau 
 raised his lorgnette to her face, to trj and discover which it was. 
 " Connaissez-vous ces Anglais la?" said his neighbour, an 
 elderly Frenchman, who had already addressed him more than 
 once, and whose glass Yauglian now observed was pointed in the 
 same direction ; " ce loge la ou le monsieur se presente en evi- 
 dence et la dame se cache I " 
 
 '• Xon," answered Yauglian, " du tout." 
 
 " Cast une miledi. EUe vient chez moi quelquefois. Je ci'oi* 
 que c'est le mari celui-la!" 
 
 " Probablement," answered Vauglian. 
 "EUe a I'air furieusement eimuye n'est cepas?" 
 " Vous croyez ? " 
 
 " Je I'ai remarque tout a I'henre quand le monsieur hii a ad- 
 resse une observation — ma foi, quelle mine I" 
 "Vous avez remarque cela?" 
 
 " Certainemeut je Tai remarque. lis ne sont pas en lune de 
 miel, ces epoux la." 
 
 Yaughan listened to these remarks with interest, for they con- 
 firmed his own impression. Lady Gleulyon's features denoted all, 
 and much more than the worthy j^erfumer of the Kue du Bac 
 had described. Her cheeks were as pale as marble, her bi*ow 
 was contracted, her lips stern and compressed. It was plain that 
 there had been a quarrel, and Yaughan inclined to believe that 
 it was not with her own consent she had stayed away from the 
 dinner table. This was rather a relief to him, although it by no 
 means proved that all he apprehended had not occun-ed; for 
 well he knew the amount of his own influence over Kate, and 
 that even the loss of his honour might not entail the loss of her 
 allegiance. Under his present circumstances, which were fast 
 becoming desperate, he was glad, for various reasons, to have lior 
 on his side; and it must not be denied, that feeling himself about
 
 237
 
 228 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 When a man is in the wrong, and does not choose to be told so, 
 it is very convenient to be sulky. Vaughan was not naturally 
 sulky; but as, when he left the theatre, there was nothing 
 to do but to go home, he determined to repress all disposition 
 to confidence on Linny's part, should any such appear, by 
 coldness and silence. As soon as he found himself in the 
 street alone, and that his mind was no longer diverted by the 
 stage and the audience, and the interest of watching Sir 
 Arthur and his wife, the painful sense of his situation, and the 
 horror of the exposure, and perhaps worse, that seemed to be 
 impending over him, returned with threefold force. He must 
 inevitably leave Paris now, and without delay ; but how to pro- 
 cure his wife's connivance, without explaining the whole amount 
 of his danger and difficulty, he could not imagine. Perhaps, 
 through one channel or other, she was already in possession of 
 some of the circumstances — so only could he account for her 
 tears, unless indeed she had been seized with a fit of jealousy; 
 but still, of all the mortifications that he had to expecfe, there 
 was none more repugnant to his feelings than the idea of stand- 
 ing before Linny as a culprit — and such a culprit ! As he picked 
 his way along the sloppy pavement — for it had come on to rain 
 hard, and he had not succeeded in getting a coach — he cursed 
 himself and the day he was born; and then his mind reverted to 
 his father. Whose fault was it but his father's, that he was 
 plunged into all this shame and misery? It was he who cast 
 him down from his natural position in society, and exposed him 
 to the temptations of poverty. As he stood at the corner of a 
 street waiting to get across. Lady Glenlyon's carriage dashed 
 past him: why was it not his carriage? It might have been
 
 LINXY LOCK WOOD. 229 
 
 but for his own folly, and lie repented that he had not married 
 Cattie; he could not have been as miserable as he was now, for 
 he would not have been so disgraced. When he reached the 
 gate of the Hotel Valmont, the concierge, as he passed in, handed 
 him a note. As pretty nearly all the notes he received contained 
 bills, he took it mechanically; but when he reached his own 
 apartment, and looked at the address, he saw it was from Lady 
 Glenlyon. Linny had retired to her chamber, and he eagerly 
 tore it open. Jf 
 
 The words it contained were few, but they said much. 
 
 " Deaeest dear Vaughax— I do not know what Sir Arthur 
 may have said, or how disagreeable he may choose to make 
 himself to you ; but do not, I entreat you, suppose me a consent- 
 ing party to his rudeness. I must see you. Meet me to-morrow, 
 at Vaugirard's, the perfumer, in the Rue du Bac, I don't know 
 the number — it is near the Petit Thomas — at four o'clock. Do 
 not fail. I shall desire the concierge to give this into no hand 
 but yours. 
 
 " Ever your own faithful and affectionate 
 
 " Cattie.' 
 
 " Wednesday evening, half -past six" 
 
 " Written whilst we were at dinner," thought Yaughan; and, 
 with a feeling that the same hand-writing had never inspired 
 before, he pressed it to his lips. She would not desert him, at 
 all events. 
 
 When he went to his chamber. Linny either was, or pretended 
 to be, asleep ; and he stretched himself beside her to pass a rest- 
 less night. When he had lain for some time, and might 
 reasonably be supposed to be sleeping, she slipped softly out of 
 bed, put on her dressing-gown, and left the room, having lighted 
 her candle at the veilleuse. As she did not return, curiosity 
 induced him to get out of bed and peep through the door, which 
 she had left ajar, to see what she was doing — she was lying on
 
 230 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 the sofa, with a shawl wrapped round her, reading a book of 
 travels he had seen lying on the table. She could not sleep 
 then; and, as Yaughan had never known her to leave her bed in 
 this way before, her doing so now denoted that she was suffering 
 great uneasiness of mind. What could have happened? Had 
 she and Lockvvood met? She looked so sad and so pretty, and 
 there was something so touching in this quiet, unostentatious 
 unhappiness, that he felt inclined to go forward, fling his arms 
 about her, and inquire the cause of%ier distress; but his con- 
 science would not let him. She might repulse him with disgust, 
 reproach him with his baseness; and he knew his temper would 
 not bear it. In about two hours she returned to bed, and 
 towards morning he fell asleep ; when he awoke, Linny had already 
 risen and left the room. This was nothing unusual; on the 
 contrary, she rose before him every day ; and yet he felt that she 
 was avoiding him. Still his dressing-things were prepared as 
 usual, and as carefully as in the first days of their marriage, for 
 Linny was his only valet. He lingered over his toilet, but he 
 was dressed at last; and then he called her and asked if the 
 breakfast was ready, endeavouring to speak as if there was 
 nothing amiss. Linny came at his call, and answered his inquiry ; 
 but he contrived to be stretching a new pair of gloves, and did 
 not look at her. However, he followed her into the salon, and 
 walked to the window whilst she poured out the tea. 
 
 "Your tea's ready, Yaughan." 
 
 " I fear we're going to have another wet day — it looks very 
 bad in the west. I don't think this water boiled — the tea's 
 shockingly weak." 
 
 "The truth is, I'm endeavouring to make the tea go as far as 
 I can. The tradespeople are getting unwilling to serve us, and 
 Monsieur Bertrand was scarcely civil when I went there for 
 some tea and sugar the other day." 
 
 "D — n it! Don't go to him any more; try somebody else." 
 
 "If I do, they'll demand payment when they send the things 
 home."
 
 tlNNY LOCKWOOD. 231 
 
 This was a s^ibject tliafc always made Yanglian angry, and he 
 w^as not Sony to use it as an excuse for being sulky at present — 
 :so ke knit liis brows, and sip}>ed his tea in gloomy silence. He ob- 
 served, however, that his wife ate nothing; and that two or 
 three times she raised her hand to her head as if to push back 
 lier hair, but in reality to brush away a tear unj^erceived. The 
 tea, however, had furnished him with an excuse for not remark- 
 ing it. Still he every moment dreaded that she might say, 
 •'• Yaughaa, I want to speak to yon," — or, "Vaughan, I have heard 
 something that I think it my duty to mention to you ; " so the 
 moment the breakfast was over, he arose and took np his gloves 
 and his hat. Linny sat still with the spoon in her hand, 
 slowly stirring her tea, and looking into the cup as if she ex- 
 pected io find peace at the bottom of it. Yaughan put on his 
 hat, walked to the mirror, pulled down his waistcoat, arranged 
 the lapels of his coat, and drew on his gloves. As he inspected 
 the general effect, in spite of the embarrassments that entangled 
 him, he could not help feeling a faint glow of satisfaction, for he 
 was indubitably a very handsome, gentlemanly-looking yonng 
 fellow; and it occurred to him that, without seeking any further 
 for a cause, his poor little wife had motive enough for her tears 
 in his neglect; since — although in reality he had never been un- 
 faithful to her, even in sentiment— the pursuit of his own plea- 
 sure and indulgence had made him as much the slave of Lady 
 Olenlyon, as if he had been subjugated by passion. This re- 
 flection, together with the soothing influence of the pleasing 
 image in the glass, produced a slight reaction, that made him 
 approach Linny before he quitted the room, and, throwing his arm 
 round her neck, with his hand under her chin, lift up her 
 downcast face to his. 
 
 " Don't look so sorro^vful, my little woman," he said, assuming 
 as cheerful a demeanour as he could. '• I know you're a great deal 
 alone, but it can't be helped at present ; and, be sure of one thing, 
 Linny, that you have no cause for jealousy. If I am a good deal 
 at Lady Glenlyon's, it is not love that takes me there, I assure you."
 
 232 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " Oh, Yaughan ! " she began; but, dreading what might be 
 coming, he put his hand before her mouth, imprinted a kiss upon 
 her forehead, and darted out of the room, saying, "There ! no more, 
 no more ! you know I detest the pathetic. I don't think I shall 
 be home to dress to-day, so you need not prepare my things." 
 
 It was not till he found himself in the street that he remem- 
 bered the difficulty of passing the time till the hour of his ap- 
 pointment with Lady Glenlyon — a moment that he anticipated 
 with far more impatience than he had ever expected to feel on 
 any occasion where she was concerned. But from her he now 
 expected to discover if any thing was, or was not known, regard- 
 ing his connexion with that unlucky parcel ; and she was the 
 only person in the world whom he could bear to hear speak on 
 the subject. 
 
 As it was not yet midday, too early for the fashionable world to 
 be abroad, he thought it might be prudent to w^alk through the 
 Hue du Bac, and ascertain the situation of Yaugirard's, the 
 perfumer, in order that he might not have to seek it later in the 
 day. The house was easily found, and as he looked in at the 
 door, he was somewhat dismayed to perceive standing behind the 
 counter the old Frenchman who, on the preceding evening, 
 had sat beside him in the pit of the theatre. This was awk- 
 ward, as he had denied any acquaintance with the lady; so he 
 stepped into the shojD, saying, " Ah ! c'est vous V 
 
 " A votre service, monsieur?" 
 
 " Yous demeurez ici done ? " 
 
 " Oui, monsieur, k votre plaisir." 
 
 " Belle boutique ! Cela doit etre un commerce tres agreable 
 la parfumerie?" 
 
 " Oui, monsieur, il y en a de pire." 
 
 And after duly admiring the shop and every thing in it, and 
 delicately hinting to Monsieur Yaugirard that he would hence- 
 forth have the honour of supplying his present visiter with gloves 
 and perfumery, &c., &c., he added, with an air of as much tion- 
 dialance as he could assume —
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 233 
 
 " Par exemple, cette dame de liier au soir, j'ai fait sa connais- 
 sauce." 
 
 "All!" responded the Frencliman, slightly raising his eye- 
 brows; "deja?" 
 
 " I find I am acquainted with her family; in short, they are 
 old friends of mine." 
 
 " Ah! c'est different," returned Monsieur Vaugirard. 
 
 " She is a very distinguished person," continued Yaughan, who 
 was beginning to be short of gloves, and was therefore not un- 
 willing to seize the opportunity of making a favourable impres- 
 sion on a puin'-eyor of that article; " and has a very large fortune." 
 
 " Je le crois bien," said Vaugirard. 
 
 " By the by, have you any gloves of this colour that would 
 fit me?" 
 
 " Oui, monsieur," answered the merchant. 
 
 " But I have come out without any money, I find." 
 
 "What signifies that?" 
 
 " Well, just put aside that half-dozen for me, and I'll call for 
 them in the afternoon." 
 
 " I can send them." 
 
 " No, no ; I shall be passing here about four o'clock, and I'll 
 call for them myself!" 
 
 " Bien, monsieur ! " And with a salutation on the part of 
 Yaughan, and an "Au revoir !" from the Frenchman, they parted. 
 
 In the meantime, Linny, after indulging in a hearty fit of 
 ■weeping, sat down to her work. Formerly, when Yaughan went 
 out, she used to go out too — if not with him, to amuse herself by 
 walking about and seeing different parts of the city; but latterly 
 she had found herself so much annoyed by the persevering 
 attentions of Sir Bryan O'Grady, who appeared to be always 
 lying in wait for her, that dull as it was, she generally stayed at 
 home rather than encounter him. It will be recollected that he 
 had met her formerly at Marlow, and admired her exceedingly; 
 and it is not impossible that even then he might have been disposed 
 to make advances of one sort or another to her, had not Yaughau
 
 234 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 laid claim to lier as liis own. From that time he never saw her 
 till she passed him one day on the Boulevards, when, struck by 
 her beauty, he had followed her home without recognizing her 
 for the same person, till, on inquiring the name of the lady who 
 had just entered, the concierge informed him it v/as Madame 
 Vorn Edmondston. This occurred shortly after his arrival in 
 Paris, and the very day after his rencontre with Vaughan in 
 the Rue Vivienne; and the circumstance furnishes an instance 
 of the curiously small accidents on which our destinies hang. 
 Had he met Linny one day earlier, instead of returning her 
 husband's salutation with insulting coldness, he would have 
 accosted him with the warmest welcome; but the mistake 
 being irretrievable, as Yaughan cut him dead the same evening 
 at Blangini's Soiree Jiusiccdc, tlie next best card w^as to become 
 his enemy — at least, such was Sir Brj^an's view of the matter. 
 By the same shortsighted precipitation, he had defeated Yaughan's 
 generalship, and given the victory to Lady Glenlyon, into whose 
 toils he had flung this object of her anxious pursuit when she 
 had nearly relinquished all hope of success; and so laid the 
 foundation of the numerous events that grew out of that 
 untoward conjunction. 
 
 Yaughan was now tied and bound to her ladyship's chariot" 
 wheels — partly by interest, partly by gratitude, and partly by 
 his love of pleasure and of those luxuries and elegancies he 
 had been early accustomed to; and Linny, left to take care of 
 herself, became the subject of Sir Bryan O'Grady's incessant 
 manoeuvres, he being uncertain whether she was Yaughan's 
 wife or not, — but in either case, under all the circumstances, 
 considering her fair game. 
 
 After getting through the weary morning by reading the 
 papers in an obscure cafe, where he was in no danger of meeting 
 his acquaintance, and by a walk afterwards along the quays, 
 when the hour of four approached, Yaughan directed his steps 
 to the neighbourhood of Monsieur Yaugirard's, where he lingered, 
 not choosing to enter the shop till he saw Lady Glenlyon'3
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 235 
 
 carriage at the door. She did not keep him waiting; some 
 minutes before the time, it drove past him, with the blinds 
 more than half down. He saw her step out and enter the shop, 
 and immediately afterwards he followed her. Her anxiety lest 
 he should not come, was evident by the eager look she turned 
 towards the door when he opened it. She endeavoured, however, 
 to meet him with composure ; but her face was pale, and her lip 
 trembled with agitation. They endeavoured to speak of indif- 
 ferent things — the new opera — the new tenor — the poverty of the 
 libretto ; he asked for his gloves, and excused himself that, not 
 having been home, he had not yet got his purse. Lady Glenlyon 
 offered to lend him the money; but Monsieur Vaugirard would 
 noc hear of such a thing. He would not relinquish the honour 
 of seeing monsieur's name in his books. She bought a variety 
 of things which she did not want, in order to make friends with 
 the perfumer; and when these affairs were settled, she moved 
 to the door, asking Vaughan which way he was going, and 
 proposing to give him a drive. " Dear Vaughan," she said, as 
 soon as they were seated in the carriage, " 1 never was so dis- 
 tressed in my life as at what happened yesterday. Of course, 
 you understood that 1 was prevented seeing you?" 
 
 " Sir Arthur's behaviour made me suspect so," said Vaughan. 
 
 " Who it is that troubles himself with our affairs, I cannot 
 think, unless it is that odious Irishman, and I cannot see what 
 interest he can have in interfering with us; but I believe, if Sir 
 Arthur had been left to himself, he would never have made any 
 objection to our intimacy; but now he insists on its ceasing 
 altogether." 
 
 " The measure's rather strong," said Vaughan. " What reason 
 does he allege?" 
 
 " None but his own will; — he says he has very good reasons; 
 and that he cannot allow me to become the subject of public 
 scandal. Now, that's ridiculous, because, I am sure, that iu 
 Paris nobody would think such an intimacy at all outre." 
 
 " But Sir Arthur is English, and very English. I confess I
 
 236 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 was apprehensive, from the first, that your kindness to me might 
 lead to something unpleasant. But he did not imply any par- 
 ticular reason?" 
 
 " He gave no reason at all but what I have told you." 
 
 " Because his coolness to me was so marked, that the first 
 moment I could I quitted the table and came away." 
 
 "Dearest Vaughan,how sorry I am to have subjected you to any 
 thing so unpleasant ! However, Sir Arthur need not congratulate 
 himself on his triumph. It will be a short one, he may rely on it." 
 
 " Cependant, il est le maitre," answered Yaughan. 
 
 " Not mine," said Lady Glenlyon, with a curl of the lip. 
 " Love alone could make me the slave of any man." 
 
 " And you do not love Sir Arthur?" He knew well enough 
 she did not. 
 
 "Love him! No, Yaughan; I never loved but one man in 
 this world, and never shall." What could he do but take the 
 white hand that lay upon his arm and raise it to his lips? " Oh, 
 Yaughan," she continued, dropping her head on his shoulder, 
 " how cruelly fate has been against us ! Betwixt the imprudence 
 of your father and the ambition of mine, every obstacle was 
 thrown in the way of our happiness, and we were separated; and 
 now that we have found each other again, and that I could have 
 been perfectly happy if I had been allowed to see you as much 
 as I have lately, I am told I must give you up. But I cannot 
 do it, Yaughan ! Indeed, indeed, I cannot I " 
 
 " But how can it be avoided?" said Yaughan. " Besides, to 
 say the ti-uth, I am afraid I must leave Paris. The hotel I am 
 living at is too expensive for me, and you know my pecuniary 
 affairs are not very flourishing." 
 
 " And where should you go?" inquired Cattie. 
 
 " To the de^-il, perhaps," said Yaughan, in a half jesting and 
 half serious tone. 
 
 " Oh, Yaughan ! I wish I could go with you ! " 
 
 "There?" said he. 
 
 "Any where!" she replied.
 
 LINNY LOCKVrOOD. 237 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 LocKWOOD, who continued in the service of Sir Bryan O'Grady, 
 glad enough to be allowed at that price to earn his bread, had 
 made no advances towards the object that had brought hiiu to 
 Paris. He was completely nonplussed by finding Vaughan in 
 such good society, and, to all appearance, in such flourishing cir- 
 cumstances, and the only explanation he could find of the mystery 
 was, that he had run away with an heiress. A w^ord from the 
 host of the King's Arms would have undeceived him in this respect? 
 and would, at the same time, have considerably fortified his worst 
 suspicions; but that word Mr. Gamble had abstained from speak- 
 ing, because he was a good-natured, peace-loving Christian, who 
 did not like to set fire to a train of gunpowder. He preferred 
 leaving the secret of Miss Linny's elopement to be disclosed by 
 time and circumstances ; but the secret still remained a secret to 
 Lockwood, for, although he had written to his wife, he had had 
 no answer ; and although he had carried that letter of his master's 
 to Mrs. Yaughan Edmonstone, in which the baronet urjred his 
 suit more audaciously than he had done before, and attempted to 
 reinforce his solicitations by the assertion of Yanghan's infidelity, 
 Lockwood had no suspicion that the lady was his own daughter. 
 Sir Bryan, indeed, had desired him to deliver it into the hand of 
 the person to whom it was addressed ; but, instead of doing so, he 
 had transferred the letter and the injmiction to the concierge of the 
 Hotel Yalmont, not choosing to take a personal part in what he 
 concluded was an intrigue. As the mysteries of valetism are 
 not very recondite or difficult to be acquired by an intelligent 
 l^erson, Lockwood, after a little practice, performed his functions 
 handily enough; insomuch that his master, who was glad to have
 
 238 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 SO steady and respectable a servant, offered him good wages to 
 remain in his service, and as the ex-clerk had suffered enongli 
 in his wanderings to value the comforts of his present situation, 
 and saw no better way of making his bread, he accepted the pro- 
 posal. But Lock wood was a very sensitive man, almost morbidly 
 so, otherwise he would not have run away from his home 
 and his family rather than encounter the unjust suspicions he 
 had incurred; and he was now incessantly tormented with the 
 notion, that if O'Grady had been aware of the imputation he lay 
 under, he would have refused to employ him ; and that, should 
 the circumstance reach his ears, he would even now dismiss him 
 ignominiously. This apprehension preyed on the poor fellow's 
 mind dfeadfully, and kept it for ever brooding on the one idea, 
 till he was almost monomaniacal on the subject. Had the 
 advertisement in The Times met liis eye, he would have been 
 off to London immediately ; but, as it did not, lie perforce re- 
 mained in uneasy inactivity, not seeing what move he could 
 make. 
 
 Whilst he was in this state of mind, his master one day gave 
 him a pair of silver epaulets, and some lace off an old suit of 
 regimentals, which, as deputy-lieutenant of an Irish county, he 
 was entitled to wear; and which he had carried about with him 
 on the contment to do duty at levies and other public occasions. 
 When Sir Bryan was dressed and off his hands for some hours, 
 Lockwood took the things out with him in order to dispose of 
 them., and having, whilst he was employed about the Cafe Anglais, 
 formed a slight acquaintance with a jeweller on the Boulevard 
 Montmartre, to whose shop he had occasionally been sent on 
 messages, he resolved to address himself to the same person, 
 because the man, speaking a little English, he would be able to 
 make himself understood. 
 
 There was no one in the shop but the owner of it when he 
 arrived, and having unfolded his packet and displayed its con- 
 tents, he was waiting to know what Monsieur Bichard would 
 give for them, when madame the wife entered from the back
 
 LINXY LOCKWOOD. 239 
 
 room with a small red leather case in her hand, which she 
 opened and exhibited to her husband, saying, " Yoyez, nion ami, 
 c'est parfait, n'est ce pasT' 
 
 " Oui," answered her husband with a nod of satisfaction. 
 
 '' Shall I put it up?" she asked. 
 
 " Attendez un petit moment," he said. " Fetch me the 
 scissors." 
 
 Whereupon Madame Richard, without closing the case, laid it 
 down on the counter, thereby> disclosing to the wondering eyes 
 of George Lockwood a sight that brought his heart into his 
 mouth. 
 
 On the eventful day that he had been commissioned by Mr. 
 Featherstone to fetch the money and the bracelet which he in- 
 tended presenting to his niece, Lockwood had called at Hamlet's 
 in the afternoon, on his way from the city, to inquke if the 
 latter article was ready. 
 
 "]. had hoped it was ready," returned the shopman, taking up a 
 red case that was lying beside him, "but we think there's a 
 slight flaw in one of the stones, and we're going to put in 
 another;" at the same time, taking out the bracelet, he held it 
 over the counter to Lockwood, who took it in his hand and 
 inspected it with great admiration. It was a design of Mr. 
 Featherstone's own, and was intended to represent a rattlesnake. 
 The scales were of emeralds and rubies placed alternately — the 
 eyes were two exceedingly fine rubies — the head was composed 
 of a large and superb emerald — and the rattle was marked by 
 six rows of splendid brilliants ; altogether it was a gorgeous and 
 beautiful ornament, and of course the cost of it was in propor- 
 tion. After this description, it may be imagined what Lock- 
 wood's feelings were when he lost so valuable a jewel, and what 
 his surprise and joy was now, when he recognised it in the 
 hands of Madame Hichard. So great was his agitation, indeed, 
 that at first he could not command his voice to inquire where 
 they got it, and this, giving him time for a moment's reflection,, 
 shewed him the necessity of caution. Recurring to his original
 
 240 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 suspicion, he concluded that, finding both Yanghan Edmonstone 
 and the bracelet in Paris, he would be justified in acting upon it ; 
 but at the same time it might be necessary to proceed with 
 caution, since doubtless the jeweller, or whoever the bracelet 
 now belonged to, would not be willing to relinquish such a 
 prize, nor perhaps to confess where they got it; so, after recover- 
 ing himself a little, he leaned over the counter and remarked, 
 what a curious fancy it was to imitate such a fearful reptile as 
 the ornament for a lady's arm — Monsieur Richard admitted 
 that it was, adding, however, that it was bieii beau. 
 
 "Very beautiful," answered Lock wood, "and very valuable, of 
 course. I suppose you'll not find many people able to purchase 
 such a thing as that. But perhaps it's not yours to sell." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Monsieur Richard, significantly raising his finger 
 to the side of his nose — "it's a secret — there's a little mystery 
 in the business." 
 
 " Indeed ! " returned Lockwood. 
 
 " C'est extraordinaire!" began Monsieur Richard; "but it 
 appears to me that your great folks — English or French — they're 
 all alike, and as much in want of money as us poor ones. This 
 bracelet," he continued, taking the case in his hand; "this brace- 
 let shews what people of that class are capable of." 
 
 " Mon ami, soyez discret ! " said Madame Richard, reappearing 
 with the scissors she had gone to fetch, " C'est une affaire de con- 
 fiance, ne'st ce pas." 
 
 "Bah!" returned Monsieur Richard; "a ce bon hommeUi! 
 Qu'est ce que 9a fait 1 " 
 
 Little did Monsieur Richard dream the interest ce hon homnie 
 la hand in the business ! How could he ever have supposed that 
 this poor insignificant fellow was, of all others, the person in the 
 world who was most concerned in tracing the history of that 
 bracelet ? So it was, however ; but Lockwood saw that, to betray 
 this interest prematurely, would be most j^rejudicial to his pur- 
 pose. Poor and helpless as he was, should any suspicion of his 
 object arise, means might easily be taken to frustrate it. The
 
 LiNNY lock;yood. 241 
 
 jbracelet, for instance, niiglit be put out of sight, and his assertion 
 that he had seen it serve only to bring himself into trouble. He 
 must enlist some power superior to his own in the cause; and, 
 after a little deliberation, it appeared to him that there was no 
 one he could so properly address himself to as Lady Glenlyou 
 herself. He would have preferred Mr. Eardley, or Mr. Feather- 
 stone; but they were too far off, and her ladyship, being on the 
 spot, he determined, though not without considerable pain, to go 
 to her, and request an interview. There was no time to lose, 
 for the bracelet once away from the shop it might be too late; 
 so he started without delay for the Rue Royale, where the Glen- 
 lyons had resided since- leaving Meurice's. In answer to his 
 inquiries, however, he was informed that Lady Glenlyon was out, 
 and would probably not return till seven o'clock. Sir Arthur 
 was out, too, and they did not know when he would be in. This 
 was embarrassing ; for Lockwood had to make pref)aration for liis 
 master's toilet, and must be home by a certain hour. Whilst he 
 was expressing his vexation — for, having announced himself as 
 Sir Bryan O'Grady's servant, they did not disdain to listen to 
 what he had to say — the groom, happening to pass, suggested 
 that he had better wait, as Sir Arthur had ordered him to be 
 ready vrith the horses at four o'clock. Lockwood vras therefore 
 requested to take a seat, and as he naturally felt a good deal of 
 interest in the daughter of his old patron, he made some inquiries 
 about Lady Glenlyon, that elicited sundry significant nods and 
 winks from one of the footmen. If ladies did but know how 
 their servants talk of them Avhen they lay themselves open to 
 animadversion ! 
 
 " There'll be a blow-up, I expect, afore long," said the irre- 
 descent Thomas, '- about that young Mr. EdmonstonC; that she's 
 always got with her. Master don't like him, and he's getting 
 tired of it — I can see that fast enough; though he's as good a 
 gentleman as ever ate salt, and let's her have her own way in 
 every thing that's proper — more than I would, if she was my 
 wife, I can tell her. They'd a scrimmage about it t'other day; 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 24:2 LINNY LOCK WOOD. 
 
 and I fancy my lady had to promise to mend her ways, for he 
 hasn't been here since; but," and here he made a peculiar kinr? 
 of knowing noise with his tongue and teeth, " Master aint half 
 up to snuff!" 
 
 And this was true; Sir Arthur was by nature neither jealous 
 nor suspicious, but of a generous, confiding, calm temper. Hi» 
 wife had, however, for some time so entirely given herself up to- 
 Vaughan's society, and so entirely relinquished his, except when 
 necessity brought them together, that the most indulgent hus- 
 band could scarcely be expected to endure it with patience. 
 Disappointed in his expectations of that domestic happiness he 
 had hoped for — unreasonably hoped for, perhaps — he wa» 
 willing to pay the penalty of his mistake without kicking and 
 floundering. He could not make his wife love him, nor alter 
 her character ; and, as long as she amused herself without impli- 
 cating his honour or her own, he was not disposed to interfere. 
 But for some time past he had been exceedingly annoyed both by 
 what he saw and by what he heard. The renewal of the acquaint- 
 ance with Yaughan at all was disagreeable to him; not from 
 jealousy, but because he felt there was something equivocal in 
 his position. When the thing was done, however, he neither 
 wished to offend his wife, nor put an affront on the young man, 
 by refusing to receive him ; and, had the intimacy been conducted 
 in such a manner as not to provoke scandal, he would have 
 allowed it to ruu its course. But it was not a pleasant thing 
 every day, when he came home, to find a man he did not like 
 lounging on his sofas ; nor to see him each afternoon, when he took 
 his ride in the Bois de Boulogne, or the Champs Elysees, occupying 
 a corner of his coupe; and it was still less pleasant to observe 
 tlie smiles and sneers, or to overhear the remarks in which his 
 English acquaintance indulged themselves at his expense. At 
 first, he only drew her ladyship's notice to the fact, that she was 
 making herself the subject of unpleasant gossip; then he 
 expostulated seriously, requesting that she would be more 
 cautious, for her own sake and his. He next proposed quitting
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 243 
 
 Paris, on tlie plea that he was tired of it; hut Lady Glenlyon 
 would not hear of such a measure, and he was unwilling to be 
 peremptory. At length, however, the affair had been brought 
 to a crisis by his chancing to be an unwilling auditor of a 
 conversation regarding his wife amongst his own servants. He 
 took no notice, nor gave them any reason to suppose he had 
 overheard their discourses, for what right had he to do so 1 If 
 she acted in a manner that exposed her to their animadversions, 
 were they not free to make them, or at least excusable in 
 doing so? for it is in vain to say that human beings shall 
 not, or should not, make remarks on their neighbour's conduct. 
 We know that there are some people who carry this privilege to a 
 vicious excess, and who take a malignant delight in misinterpreting 
 innocent actions, seeing a ridicule where none exists, and pro- 
 nouncing judgment on those they are incapable of appreciating ; 
 but nothing is to be judged by its abuse. If we never blamed 
 we should never praise; or, if we did, our commendations would 
 be very little worth having. What we have to do, is to judge 
 people justly, and, in order to judge them justly, we must judge 
 them kindly and mercifully; since seeing, that as we cannot, by 
 any possibility, jjlace ourselves in their situation, or know all the 
 circumstances of the case, that severity which appears to us 
 justice may be the grossest of injustice. In short, in judging the 
 conduct or the opinions of other people, we are bound to leave a 
 large margin of allowance; and I confess I have never been able 
 to conceive by what sophistry people, who profess to be Christians, 
 can reconcile to themselves the judgments they pronounce upon 
 those w^ho differ with them, not as to what is right and wrong in 
 morals, virtuous or vicious in conduct, but on points wherein 
 the wisest and best of mankind have been, and are, and will be, 
 to the end of time, at issue; and sure I am that there is no one 
 thing does so much harm to the cause they advocate, or so 
 discredits the principles they profess, as tliis intolerance; whilst 
 I do not know any character more engaging than one, whose 
 mind being thoroughly made up upon subjects that to others
 
 244 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 appear questionable, can yet be content to dwell and consort 
 witb those persons in love and charity ; accepting the good that is 
 them, calm in the trust, that if God deems it necessaiy that all 
 men should think alike, he will make all men think alike ; and 
 humbly bearing in mind, that he alone is entitled to pronounce 
 judgment, since he alone possesses the knowledge that can enable 
 him to do so with unerring justice.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Sir Arthur Glexlyox was not unacquainted Avitli Lockwoorl, 
 for he had often seen him sitting in the hall of Mr. Eardley's 
 house, in Cavendish-square ; and he now started with surprise to 
 find a man he supposed to be dead, waiting for him, hat in hand, 
 in the Rue Royale. 
 
 "Mr. Lockwood !" he exclaimed, "is it possible?" 
 
 "Might I request a few words with you, sir?" said Lockwood ; 
 " I had intended to mention the business I am come about to 
 her ladyship, but she is not at home." 
 
 " Walk this way," said Sir Arthur, preceding him to his own 
 dressing-room ; " why, Mr. Lockwood, I am glad to see the 
 report of your having met with some untimely end is without 
 foundation. Where have you been all this time 1 " 
 
 " Why, sir, that would be a long story that I won't trouble 
 you with now; but the truth is, the loss of that parcel almost 
 deprived me of my reason, and I scarcely know what I did for 
 some time after; but I have never given up the hope of tracing 
 what had become of it; and at last, I think, I've got a clue." 
 
 " Indeed ! I should be very glad to hear that for your own 
 sake. Then you must have had some suspicion of how you lost 
 it." 
 
 " I had, sir; I have always been persuaded that I dropped it 
 in Oxford-street." 
 
 " In Oxford-street ! If you dropped it there, I should think 
 there is little chance of your finding it again." 
 
 "Why, sir, I have always had a suspicion that a person who, 
 I know, was not far from me at the time, might have picked it 
 np."
 
 2i6 LTNNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 "And lias any thing occurred to strengthen that suspicion ?" 
 
 "Why, yes, sir — that pei-son is at present in Paris; and, if I 
 am not very much mistaken, I have just seen the very bracelet 
 that I brought that day from Hamlet's." 
 
 " Indeed ! in his possession 1 " 
 
 " No, sir ; in a shop on the Boulevards. It was a very re- 
 markable bracelet — I suppose you know what it was?" 
 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 " And what makes me think that I am not mistaken is, that 
 the people of the shop own there is a mystery connected with it." 
 
 " Did they say how it came into their possession?" 
 
 " No, sir; and that is what I should feel very grateful if you 
 or Lady Glenlyon would endeavour to discover. It is not likely 
 they will tell me ; but you, perhaps, they may." 
 
 " I don't know that; for, as we cannot prove it to be the same 
 bracelet, I don't see what right we have to demand the informa- 
 tion." 
 
 " You never saw the bracelet, sir?" 
 
 "Never; but I have seen the exact copy of it; for Mr. 
 Featherstone ordered another to be made, which Lady Glenlyon 
 has." 
 
 " It might be Lady Glenlyon's bracelet, then, that I saw just 
 now," said Lock wood, disappointed. 
 
 " I should hardly think so," answered Sir Arthur. " But I'll 
 inquire of her maid." 
 
 The maid was accordingly summoned, and desired to fetch the 
 bracelet; but she presently Keturned with an asj^ect of alarm, 
 saying she could not find it. 
 
 " That's very singular! Did Lady Glenlyon take it out with 
 her?" 
 
 " Not to my knowledge, sir," answered "VVharton ; " and I 
 think my lady would have mentioned it to me if she had, as I 
 have the charge of the jewels." 
 
 " Are you sure it's not in any of the drawers?" 
 
 " I'll take one more look, sir; but I am quite certain I put it
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 2-t/ 
 
 in the jewel-case the la^t time mv lady wore it, and I am so 
 particular about it^ that I never could have put it into the 
 drawers." 
 
 The second se^urcli being as unsuccessful as the first, Sir Arthur 
 began to suspect there was something extraordinary in the busi- 
 ness. Had the bracelet been seen at any of the jewellers they 
 dealt with, he might have supposed she had left it there to be 
 repaired; but her entrusting it to a stranger on the Boulevard 
 Montmartre, he looked upon as out of the question. The natui-al 
 conclusion, therefore, was, that the bracelet had been stolen, and 
 somehow fallen into the possession of these Richards; and as it 
 might be too late to go to the shop after his wife came home, he 
 resolved to go there at once, in company with LockwoocL 
 
 '- You think,^' said he, as they proceeded along the Boulevards 
 in a fiacre, " that the person who found that parcel is now iu 
 Paris," 
 
 " He is in Paris, sir. At least he was, some days ago." 
 '• Aud ou what grounds do you suspect himi" 
 " Wliy, sir, in the fii-st place, I saw him close behind me, in 
 Oxford-street, about the time I must have dropped the parcel 
 Then, though I know him to have been in great difficulties, the 
 very next morning he paid a pretty large debt, and then hun'ied 
 jicross the water to this place, where he has been, I fancy, ever 
 since, and seemingly well enough otl" 
 
 Some association of ideas, stirred probably by his own personal 
 feelings towards him, brought Taughan Edmonstone to Sir 
 Arthur s mind, 
 
 '- Do yon happen to know what part of the town this person 
 lodges inP 
 
 " He is living at an hotel in the Rue Richelieu, sir.'' 
 Lock wood was not sorry to have an opportunity of saying this 
 much, although for various reasons he would now have shrank 
 from a more direct accusation. Sir Arthur made no answer; 
 but somehow this confirmation of a vague suspicion suggested 
 another. He was aware, and indeed Lady Gieniyon had told
 
 248 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 him, that Yaughan was very poor. Before he became a subject 
 of disagreement betwixt them, she had frequently alluded to 
 his poverty, expressing a wish that some means could be found 
 of improving his circumstances. Could she have sold this bracelet 
 in order to give him the money? He almost feared that would 
 prove the explanation of its mysterious appearance on the 
 Boulevard Montmarti-e; and this notion did not diminish his 
 desire to penetrate the secret. 
 
 " Mon ami ! " said ]\Iadame Bichard, who, casting her eyes 
 through the shop window, was the first to see Lockwood's face 
 as the coach stopped at the door; " here is that Englishman 
 again that brought the epaulets. What can be bringing him 
 back — en fiacre, too!" and so saying, she snatched up a sealed 
 packet that lay upon the counter and thrust it into a drawer 
 underaeath. 
 
 Sir Arthur, who had formed his plan of attack as he eame 
 along, opened the campaign at once. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said, bowing politely, a necessary preliminary 
 to every negotiation in France; '' but my wife has lost a bracelet 
 of considerable value, and I am infonned that there is such a one 
 in this shop. Would you allow me to see itl" 
 
 " Mais, monsieur!" began Madame Bichard. 
 
 " It is the one I saw here tliis morning," said Lockwood. 
 " The snake set in jewels." 
 
 " Mais, messieurs, nous ne sommes pas des voleurs," answered 
 Madame Bichard, with an air of insulted integrity. 
 
 " I beg you'll not suppose I mean to imply any thing of the 
 sort. I mean no ofience, I assure you," returned Sir Arthur; 
 " but you can't always guard against things being brought to you 
 that people have not come fairly by. All I ask is to be allowed 
 to see the bracelet you shewed to this person when he was here 
 to-day." 
 
 " Ce n'est plus iei, monsieur," rei)lied Madame Bichard with 
 admirable a plomb, considering that the thing waa at that 
 moment within six inches of her hand.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 249 
 
 '' If it is not here, of coui-se you can't shew it me," returned 
 Sir Anhur; " but I dare say, whoever has it, will not object to 
 let me see it, if you will tell me who that is." 
 
 '•' Excusez, monsieur! Ce n'est pas a nous d'incommoder nos 
 pratiques avec de parcilles inquisitions." 
 
 " I shall be soriy to be obliged to resort to stronger measures,"" 
 said Sir Arthur; •' but this singular unwillingness to give me 
 the information I require, can only confirm my suspicion that 
 the bracelet you have, or had, in your possession is the one I'm 
 in search of" 
 
 •'• Mon Dieu, monsieur! faites comme vous voulez," said 
 Madame Richard ; *• cela ne nous derange pas du tout." 
 
 *• You are deteimined then, not to shew it meP said Sir 
 Arthur, moving towards the door. 
 
 " Monsieur, c'est impossible,"' answered the imperturbable 
 Madame Eichard. 
 
 " Very well, then, you mast take the consequences," he 
 rejoined, as he opened the door: " I wish you good-morn- 
 ing." 
 
 '•' Bon jour, monsieur! Au revoirl*' and the door closed behind 
 the baronet and his companion. 
 
 '• iMais, vStephanie, done," said Monsieur Richard, who, during 
 the above colloquy, had affected to be very busy in another part 
 of the shop, in order to leave the management of so critical a 
 passage to the more astute wits of his wife, " cela va nous porter 
 malheur? We shall have the police here! Quel deshonneur ! " 
 
 '•'Bah!" said Stephanie; " ne vols tu pas que cest le mari de 
 cette dame ? If he brings the police here, the dishonour '11 be 
 his; not ours." 
 
 '• You think he's her husband ? "' 
 
 '• Mais j"en suis sm-e. Didn't I tell you there was soDiethinc 
 curious about that man this morning, with his old epaulets to 
 sell? It's my opinion it was nothing in the world but an excuse 
 to come here, that he might try and find out something about 
 the bracelet."
 
 250 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " J'espere que tii as raison, car," said Monsieur Richard with a 
 shrug, and holding up his five fingers. 
 
 "N'est ce pas que j'ai toujours raison?" responded Madame 
 Richard in a tone of perfect conviction. 
 
 But the jeweller was a timid m?.n, without half the acuteness 
 and a j^lomb of madame; and although, when he found matters 
 turn out as she predicted, he was often enraptured with her 
 cleverness, his faith was not sufficient to support him through the 
 preliminary stages of any delicate transaction in which they hap- 
 pened to find themselves involved. 
 
 Whilst the above dialogue was transpiring betwixt the hus- 
 band and wife, Sir Arthur and Lockwood were discussing the 
 affair in the fiacre, or rather the latter was discussing it, for Sir 
 Arthur said very little; and Lockwood had nearly all the talk 
 to himself 
 
 " It is evident to me there is something wrong about it, sir," 
 said he anxiously. 
 
 Sir Arthur shook his head significantly. He was afraid there 
 was something very wrong about it ; but the affair liad assumed 
 a comj^lexion that rendered it impossible for him to communi- 
 cate his thoughts to Lockwood, and he was altogether at a loss 
 how to proceed. He now entirely believed that the braclet was 
 Lady Glenlyon's, and that she had sold it to these people, in 
 order to relieve the necessities of Vaughan Edmonstone; and as 
 she sat great store by it, both on account of its beauty and 
 value, and because it was the gift of her uncle, to whom she pro- 
 fessed more attachment than to any one in the world, such a 
 sacrifice denoted, if not "a foregone conclusion," at least a very 
 alarming state of proclivity to irreparable mischief What 
 should he do? How prevent it ? On the day of that unpleasant 
 dinner above described, when her ladyship did not make her 
 appearance, they had had a quarrel — the first right-down quarrel 
 recorded in the history of their matrimonial life, for Sir Arthur 
 had generally great command of his temper; but on that 
 occasion he lost it, and he had peremptorily insisted on his
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 251 
 
 wife's relinquishing all communication wliatever with Mr. 
 EJmonstone. Her answer was, "Very well! I suppose I must, 
 if you insist upon it ; but, be jDleased to remember, that I think 
 such an exercise of authority odious; and that, if I submit, it is 
 only because you have the power to enforce your commands, and 
 not because I acknowledge their justice." 
 
 This was not a promise, it was only a submission ; but what 
 more could he do except leave Paris — a move he now resolved to 
 make without delay, since, if liis suspicions in regard to the 
 bracelet were correct, the circumstance went far to prove that 
 his wife was still in communication with Vaughau. He bad 
 not been without his apprehensions on this subject before ; but 
 as he was sure he had seen the snake on lier arm the night he 
 accompanied her to the opera, its subsequent disappearance 
 tended strongly to confirm them, unless indeed she could account 
 for it. 
 
 Sir Arthur dropped Lock wood on tlieir way back, and the poor 
 man went home to prepare for his master's toilette, considerably 
 comforted — not certainly that he was vindicated; but he saw 
 that Sir Arthur believed in his integrity. 
 
 It was somewhat unusually late when Lady Glenlyon returned 
 from her morning's drive. On entering her boudoir, through 
 which she had to pass to her dressing-room, she was arrested by 
 Sir Arthur, who said he had been anxiously waiting for her. 
 
 "Indeed! on what account?" inquired her ladyship. 
 
 " I want to know," he said, " where your snake bracelet is? 
 the one given to you by Mr. Featherstone." 
 
 "Why?" she asked. 
 
 "Never mind why just now," he replied: "but you'll oblige 
 me by answering the question." 
 
 " I might refuse to do so," she answered ; " for the bracelet is 
 mine, and I am not obliged to account for it to you, or any 
 body ; however, since you desire to know where it is — there ! " and, 
 pushing up the sleeve of her dress, she displayed the snake upon 
 her arm. It is true that the arm visibly trembled, and that her
 
 252 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 lips and cheeks were blanched ; but that might be with indigna- 
 tion at what she had a right, if she chose, to consider an 
 implied suspicion ; still the bracelet was undeniably there. Sir 
 Arthur was silenced for the moment — silenced but not convinced. 
 
 " I hope your curiosity is satisfied," said his wife, bowing to 
 him as she passed into her dressing-room. 
 
 But the result of this short interview was any thing but 
 satisfactory. In the first place, it occurred to him that she had 
 arrived fully prepared for the inquiry he intended to make. She 
 had, somehow or other, become aware of what had happened 
 during her absence. How? He did not think it likely she had seen 
 her maid; indeed she could not, unless she had returned home 
 whilst he was out with Lockwood, as he had taken up his station 
 in her boudoir for the express purpose of intercepting an inter- 
 view. Yet, she had played her part so ill, that he could not 
 doubt she had somehow become acquainted with his inquiries 
 about the bracelet. If not, why was she angry] Why did she 
 look upon the inquiry as an affront? The natural thing would 
 have been to answer at once, "Here it is; why do you ask?" 
 Besides, it was an ornament she never wore in the morning; and, 
 as it was entirely hidden by her sleeve, there was no object in 
 wearing it now. Moreover, she had the bracelet; and the con- 
 clusion he came to was, that she had been to the Boulevard 
 Montmartre, heard of his visit, and somehow induced the 
 jeweller to let her have it again. However this might be, the 
 breach between the husband and wife was considerably widened 
 by the incident. She saw that she was detected; he saw that 
 she was deceiving him ; and he was philosopher enough to know 
 all the mischief and all the corruption that that fact involved. 
 When a woman begins to deceive her husband, their union is 
 virtually dissolved ; and they henceforth become two individuals 
 with different objects, and difierent interests. We despise those 
 who we know are deceiving us; and where we cannot despise, 
 we fear those we deceive — and out of fear comes hate. Sir 
 Arthur, however, had not in this instance himself to blame. He
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 253 
 
 had tried the best method of saving botli all the miseries of a 
 disunion — namely, indulgence; a system by which, I believe, 
 many women, who rush into desparate ruin, might have been 
 saved; but men are generally too selfish — even when they are 
 not sufficiently in love to feel the pangs of genuine jealousy — 
 too hasty and violent, too unreasoning, where this precious self- 
 ishness LS concerned, to pause or reflect. Their pride persuades 
 them that to temporise is an indignity. They can make no 
 allowance for weak human nature, nor the erring fancies of 
 youth or enthusiasm. They fly to severity, look sulky and angiy, 
 and make their homes odious, till a woman runs away, not so 
 much irnth her lover, a&from her husband. I am sure this is the 
 history of many elopements ; especially where women are depen- 
 dent on their husbands, and have no means of freeing themselves 
 but by rushing into perdition. 
 
 "With Lady Glenlyon, however, the evil was too deep-seated 
 for mild sanitary measures; and she received Sir Ai'thur's an- 
 nouncement (that it was his intention they should leave Paris 
 the next day but one) in haughty silence.
 
 254 
 
 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 In her secret heart Lady Gleulyon had no desire to run away 
 from her home and abandon her position, and I think if Yaughan 
 Edmonstone had been so eperdainent amoreux as to have 
 fallen at her feet and conjured her to fly with him, she would 
 have been able to resist the temptation. But, unfortunately 
 for her, he did not. She was not so blinded by passion, nor so 
 entirely ignorant of the world, as not to know the enormous 
 sacrifice a woman makes when she relinquishes her husband's 
 protection foi* that of another man, and flings away her good 
 name for ever; and, moreover, low down in her bosom there 
 harboured a latent seed of distrust of Vaughan himself Yet 
 she loved him too much to give him up and resign him to her 
 rival; besides which, she had entered upon a course wherein once 
 embarked women seldom stop. She had undertaken to conquer 
 and win him by the excess of her devotion ; and, like a gamester, 
 every failure only Diade her more eager to throw again. But 
 the crisis had now arrived — and the choice lay betwixt two 
 alternatives; she must either relinquish the contest and throw 
 down her cards — or risk all on one coup. 
 
 That night — the night succeeding the events recorded in the 
 last chapter. Lady Glenlyon never closed her eyes in sleep ; for 
 there was a mortal struggle going on within her, as if her good 
 and her bad angel were in desperate conflict for the victory. Her 
 whole future life here, and perhaps liereafter, depended on the 
 issue of that battle, and she knew it ; and yet she arose the next 
 morning with no resolution formed but to abide by circum- 
 stances — to see what the day brought forth. 
 
 Sir Arthur slept in another room, and she heard him stirring
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 20D 
 
 earlier tbau usual. Hitherto he had been in the habit of com- 
 ing to her bedside (for he was more matinal in his habits than 
 she was) to wish her "good-moming" before he went to break- 
 fast. To-day, however, he left his chamber without doing so, 
 and she was glad of it. When her maid entered the room, she 
 desired to have a cup of coffee, and, whilst she was taking it> 
 Wharton asked her what she would please to travel in. 
 
 "Totravelf 
 
 " Sir Arthur sent me word by Montjoie that I'm to be ready 
 with every thing packed to start to-morrow, my lady." 
 
 This was a throw of sixes in favour of the bad angel. She 
 thought Sir Arthur at least might have allowed her to give her 
 own orders — " a specimen of the tutelage I may expect for the 
 future." She answered that she should travel in black ; and that, 
 to save trouble, she would put it on at once. " Is Sir Arthur 
 at breakfast." 
 
 " Sir Arthur has finished breakfast, my lady, and is gone out." 
 Another unusual step, portending change. 
 
 " Give me my desk, and tell Pierre to fetch me a commission- 
 aire.''' 
 
 " Pierre is just going out with some messages for Sir Arthur; 
 he could cany a note any where." 
 
 " Do as I bid you, if you please." 
 
 When the comminsionaire arrived. Lady Glenlyon desired he 
 might be brought up to the adjoining room, and slipping on her 
 dressing-gown she went to him. " You know the Hotel Valmont, 
 Kue Richelieu?" 
 
 " Oui, miladi, connais bien." 
 
 '•' Go there with this note, and bring me an answer ; but don't 
 say where you came from." 
 
 " Fiez-vous a moi, miladi." 
 
 " If you bring me an answer quickly, you shall have a na- 
 poleon." 
 
 " Bien, miladi, mais si le monsieur n'y est pas." 
 
 " You'll bring it back to me— no — give it to the concierge^
 
 256 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 with strict injunctions to give it to nobody but himself. Conrez, 
 courez vite ! " And having tlirust his feet in the shoes he had 
 left at the bottom of the stairs, away ran the commissionaire, 
 whilst Lady Glenlyon proceeded with her toilette. 
 
 Linny had loved Vaughan in his prosperity with all the honest 
 love of her young heart, exalted by a strong sense of gratitude 
 for his generosity in selecting her humble self, instead of one of 
 the numerous advantageous ^;ct?"^ii? she considered he might have 
 commended ; and with all the enthusiasm besides, that women 
 are apt to feel for lovers who are much their superiors in worldly 
 rank, and whose consequent habits of refinement, and elegancies of 
 manner and attire, are sufficient to elevate them into heroes in 
 the loving and admiring eyes. When misfortune overtook him 
 of course she only loved him more; and as he had given her 
 every proof of affection and preference he could, by first selecting 
 and finally marrying her the first moment he had it in his power, 
 whatever anxieties she had suffered, jealousy had till lately formed 
 no element of her sorrows. She was unhappy regarding their 
 circumstances, and, frfr a considerable time past, she felt that he 
 grievously neglected her ; but, with the abnegation of love, and an 
 unselfish nature, she contrived to make excuses for him. She 
 compared his past fortunes with his present, and considered how 
 difficult it was for him to bear the latter with resignation; and 
 she remembered how, had he married Miss Eardley, which she 
 had learnt from himself he might have done had he chosen, how 
 different had been his circumstances ! But for her sake, for the 
 sake of the obscure clerk's daughter, he had rejected the brilliant 
 heii'ess, and, if he now visited her, it was only from motives of 
 interest ; she had Yaughan's own word for this, and she believed 
 him. 
 
 " I would never go near her," he said ; " but that I think 
 through Sir Arthur she may get me a situation;" and as 
 Linny was not naturally jealous or suspicious, and as she 
 ardently desired that Yaughan should get a situation, this 
 assurance satisfied her. But Sir Bryan O' Grady, for his 
 
 i
 
 LI>-NY LOCKWOOD. 257 
 
 own purposes had opened her eyes; he had written her a letter 
 avowing a passion which he assiu'ed her had originated with their 
 meeting at Marlow — a passion which he should have then proved 
 by the offer of his hand and fortune, had not Vaughan claimed her 
 for his own. But now, he said, that the possessor of such an 
 inestimable treasure was hourly proving himself unworthy of it, 
 he could no longer be silent. And then he proceeded to inform 
 her how Mr. Edmonstone spent his time; and that his name, 
 coupled with Lady Glenlyon's, was the subject of scandal through- 
 out the English society of Paris ; of coui-se, concluding with the 
 oflfer of his own heart, &c., tfcc, in compensation for the one she 
 had lost. Formerly, Linny would have turned a deaf ear to 
 these insinuations against her husband, but now, alas! there 
 "were too many corroborative circumstances ; hence the tears and 
 depression which she had not been able to conceal from him, and 
 hence, M^th the natural dread of reproach that an evil conscience 
 engenders, Vaughan, careful to avoid all opportunities of a tete 
 a tcte with his wife, was seldom at home except during the 
 hours he passed in bed; so that the commissionaire, with all his 
 speed, was only just in time; and, indeed, had be had less savoir 
 faire than he had, the thing would have missed as it was ; for 
 Yaughan had just turned out of the Porte Cochere, and made a 
 few steps in the direction of the Boulevards when the commis- 
 sionaire met him. But that astute individual observing the 
 hotel he came from, and that he was an Englishman, and of an 
 age and fashion likely to be a lady's love, drew certain conclu- 
 sions that investigation proved correct. Vaughan had left 
 home early that morning for the reason above alluded to, and he 
 had a long day before liim which he did not know very well how 
 to fill up. 
 
 Since Sir Arthur had shown those symptoms of restiveness 
 which were communicated to Vaughan, on the day he met 
 Lady Glenlyon at the perfumer's, although they continued to see 
 each other, it was necessarily more rarely than before; and the 
 interviews now were surreptitious, which previously had. been 
 
 ^ VOL. I. S
 
 208 LINXY LOCKV/OOD. 
 
 without concealment. This is the straight and beaten road to 
 ruin. Two people continue to meet in society, to visit, to walk, 
 to flii-t, to philander ; and the world gossips, and is amused or 
 scandalised, as it may be; when suddenly some new light breaks* 
 upon the husband, or some coarse jest stings him, or an anony- 
 mous letter from a friend, awakens him from his comfortable 
 confidence to the necessity of stringent measures; the lady rebels, 
 of course; they quarrel; live together a short time in mutual 
 wretchedness, and then comes the sad finale I 
 
 Yaughan was very glad to get the letter, for it brought him 
 something to do; it being a summons to meet Lady Glenlyon 
 at Yaugirard's, the perfumer's, at eleven o'clock. He tore a leaf 
 from his pocket-book, and having written on it the words " J'l/ 
 serai,'" the glad commissionaire hurried back to receive his 
 napoleon. 
 
 From the time the Glenlyons had been in Paris, together 
 with her ladyship's proclivity for spending money, they had col- 
 lected about them a mass of things of all sorts; objets in porce- 
 lain, bronze, ormolue, marqueterie, and mosaics, enough to furnish 
 an auctioneer's room; and when she left her chamber on that 
 eventful morning, she found the whole house in confusion, the 
 servants dragging about imperials and portmanteaus, and strange 
 men busy with deal boxes, hampers, and sheaves of straw. The 
 movement was evidently of the most decisive and energetic nature. 
 There were to be no misgivings, no relentings. 
 
 Lady Glenlyon smiled contemptuously, and her nostrils dilated 
 as she eyed these preparations for flight. Not only was her 
 maid emptying her wardrobes and drawers, and depositing their 
 contents in the boxes ; but here were actually a parcel of strange 
 men packing up the very bijoux of her boudoir ! and all this 
 without any commands from her. Bursting with indignation 
 and resentment, she felt at first disposed to order them all out 
 of the house, but she saw that would only compromise her own 
 authority, and expose her weakness; so, without any observation,, 
 she made her way through the confusion, and descended the
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 259 
 
 stairs to her carriage, whicli ^yas already waiting in the court- 
 yard below. The packers left off their packing in order to go to 
 the window and see her drive off. 
 
 "Domraage!" said Montjoie, Sir Arthur's valet, quietly; 
 *' c'est un digne homme, le niaitre." 
 
 Wharton looked after her mistress with a grave face, and said 
 nothing. 
 
 '•' It was high time some notice should be taken of her goings 
 on," said Thomas, a pert English footman, who belonged espe- 
 cially to Lady Glenlyon, and always went out with the carriage, 
 but was now in his shirt-sleeves engaged like the rest. She had 
 retained him in her service instead of taking a Frenchman, al- 
 though he was a much less useful and efficient servant, because 
 he had been brought up upon her father's estate, and she believed 
 he was attached to her. Though without any positive guilt, she 
 felt that her constant rencontres with Yaughau laid her open to 
 the animadversion of her servants; but she had been kind to 
 jDoor Thomas, and he wouldn't gossip about her. As for the 
 coachman, he was a Frenchman, and belonged to the livery- 
 stable keeper who jobbed the horses. 
 
 " I bet I know where she's a-going to, else she wouldn't be 
 out at this time in the morning. I've oft-times had a mind to 
 put master up to it." 
 
 " Had you?" said Wharton, contemptuously; "and pray, why 
 didn't you do it?" 
 
 " Well, I'm sure I might, for the matter of that," answered 
 Thomas; "for I never so mnch as see the colour of that 'ere 
 Mr. Edmonstone's money yet!"
 
 260 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Sir Arthur Glenlyon had a great deal of business to do on 
 the day which was to be his last in Paris — bills to pay, arrange- 
 ments to make with his banker, friends to take leave of ; for, 
 although he had lately ruminated on the propriety of a move, as 
 Lady Glenlyon objected, no steps had yet been taken in the way 
 of preparation ; and, not wishing to excite public attention by 
 the suddenness of the measure, he desired personally to explain 
 it to his own immediate circle, by alleging that the post had 
 bro Light an announcement necessitating his immediate return to 
 England. Having given full directions, therefore, to the ser- 
 vants how to proceed in his absence, he stepped into a hack cabri- 
 olet, as the speediest means of getting through his business. 
 About three o'clock in the afternoon, he called at home to see 
 how matters were going on, and learned that Lady Glenlyon had 
 just been there, and had gone out again. She had been home to 
 eive some directions to her maid, re^rai'dina: which of her own 
 boxes she should take Avith her, and which send through an 
 agent for the transference of luggage. The latter she marked, 
 and said they would be sent for. Sir Arthur left word that she 
 should not wait dinner for him, as he should probably take a 
 cutlet at Grignon's; and then he went out. Shortly afterwards, a 
 man arrived with a hurley, and inquired if Sir Arthur Glenlyon 
 was at home, and was told he was not. He came, he said, from the 
 office of Rubert and Co., Rue de la Paix, agents, for certain 
 boxes which they were to forward. Wharton said she had 
 orders about the boxes, and they were duly delivered to the man, 
 who complacently wheeled them away.
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 261 
 
 . There was, altogether, a great deal to do in the way of pack- 
 ing; and Wharton, having now coinpleted her own department, 
 went to offer her assistance to Montjoie. By and by, there was 
 a ring at the bell, and Thomas opened the door. It was Angnste, 
 the coachman, who had brought miladi's pocket-handkerchief, 
 which she had left in the carriage. He also wished to know if 
 he could be of any use in cording or strapping the trunks; so 
 he followed Thomas into the salle a manger, where they were all 
 at work. 
 
 " Mais ou done est miladi?" said Montjoie. 
 
 '•' I left her at the perfumer's, Kue du Bac." 
 
 " Diable !" said Montjoie, raising his eyebrows, whilst Wharton 
 looked grave, and Thomas sniggered. A general feeling prevaded 
 the assembly that there was a rendezvous in question, and Thomas 
 inquired of Auguste if " that 'ere chap, Vaughan Edmonstone, 
 warn't there?" Auguste, who had picked up a little English 
 hj driving English people, said he didn't know, he had not 
 looked into the shop. 
 
 This sending home the carriage being an imusual step>, it gave 
 Wharton some uneasiness. For she put the same construction 
 on the proceeding as the rest did; and having a lively idea of 
 the state of affairs at home, and of the real cause of this sudden 
 move, she felt the full force of the imprudence and the impro- 
 priety. Lady Glenlyon was not a bad mistress — she was liberal, 
 careless, good-natured, and easy to live with, except for those to 
 whom nature or law gave authority over her; for, having a 
 strong will and passionate impulses, she was restive under all 
 kinds of coercion or external restraint. Wharton, therefore, 
 liked her; and, thinking that the removal might possibly tend 
 to restore the domestic i)eace of the family, she had rejoiced at the 
 measure ; but what would Sir Arthur say if he came home and 
 found that the carriage had retimied and his wife was still out. 
 An unsuspected woman may do these things, but not one under 
 suspicion; and every hour as it passed augmented the embarras. 
 She was relieved to think that §ir Arthur was not coming home
 
 262 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 to dinner. Lady Glenlyon lia\4ng left no orders about hers, it 
 was of course prepared as usual at seven o'clock; and the dining- 
 room being full of straw and packing-cases, the cloth was laid iu 
 her own little boudoir, now stripped of all its ornaments except 
 the mirrors and an ormolu clock which belonged to the landlord. 
 The men were so busy that they did not think much of the lapse 
 of time; but Wharton's exertions relaxed as her mind gi-e\v 
 anxious, and she stood at the window that looked into the 
 court-yard, and faced the arch leading into the street, watching for 
 the fiacre that was to bring home her mistress. The dinner was 
 waiting in the kitchen, the lamps were lighted in the boudoir, 
 and the ormolu clock on the chimneypiece pointed to seven 
 o'clock. Outside, the evening was dark and it had come on to 
 rain hard. 
 
 The work was now pretty well done, except the cording and 
 strapping; and Thomas, no longer in his shirt-sleeves, but 
 dressed to wait on Lady Glenlyon at dinner, after looking into 
 the boudoir, screwing up the lamp a bit, and throwing a log of 
 wood on the fire, lounged into the room where Wharton, grow- 
 ing every moment more anxious, was fixed at the window. 
 
 " Well, this here missus of youi^ ar'n't coming at all, I think. 
 I shouldn't wonder if she's a-gone off with that 'ere chap." 
 
 "Shouldn't you? indeed!" said Wharton, contemptuously. 
 " It don't become you, of all people, Mr. Thomas, to speak in that 
 way of my lady, I tliink. I'm sure she has always been a very 
 good mistress to you." 
 
 "Who said she hadn't?" answered Thomas. 
 
 " One would think she hadn't, I'm sure, to hear you." 
 
 " Some folks is mighty partickler, to be sure," answered 
 Thomas. "Where's the harm?" and Wharton, not being in 
 a humour to answer him, he removed himself elsewhere. 
 
 "Mais!" exclaimed Montjoie by and by, after wiping his 
 forehead and reviewing the result of their labours, " Ou e;^t done, 
 miladi?" 
 
 This was, indeed, becoming a question. It was long past her
 
 LIXXY LOCK WOOD. 263 
 
 dinner-hour; Sir Arthur would certainly be home presently; 
 ancl, as Montjoie saiJ, ^Tiere %vas my lady ? Wharton had ali-eady 
 blown her nose twice — an nnpoetical symptom of distress with 
 which we are all acquainted — when Montjoie came behind her 
 and repeated his question. 
 
 " The heayens knows!" she answered " I'm sure, / cant 
 think where she i^ ! Surely something must haye happened to 
 her." 
 
 " Cast extraordinaire!" said Montjoie. " Je n'y comprends 
 rien du tout Que faisait-elle chez ce Vaugirard/" 
 
 " She might haye gone to pay her bill : or to order some 
 things to take away with her. There's nothing odd in her going 
 to the shop, nor to any other shop; but she can't be at 
 Taugirard's all this time, you know. If that Thomas wasn't 
 such a beast as he is, I'd ask him to go there ajid inquire 
 about her." 
 
 " Jespere quil n'y a pas mallieui! said Montjoie; 
 
 " I'm in a perfect tremor eyery moment for fear Sir Arthur 
 should come home before she aniyes," said Wharton. •• I'm 
 sure. I don't know what he'll say if he does; nor what I'm to 
 say to him." 
 
 "There's nine o'clock!" said Thomas. '• I think Fd better 
 clear away them 'ere dinner things, what's the use o' leaving on 
 'em there?" 
 
 '' What's the use of being in such a huiTy T returned Wharton, 
 sharply. 
 
 '• They may lie there till to-morrow morning for me," said 
 Thomas. " only it ain't no use; that's alL" 
 
 " And pray, how do you know that ? You're uncommon wise, 
 all at once." 
 
 *• I don't pretend to be no wiser than other people; but them 
 as has eyes can see, I s'pose." 
 
 " Fools always think they see more than other people," said 
 Wharton. 
 
 " 2\one so blind as them as won't see. thoucrh.*' answered
 
 264 
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 Thomas, diuckling at liis own ready answer; which indeed was 
 apt enough to the occasion. 
 
 Thomas had lounged off again, and Wharton and Moutjoie 
 were still at the window, now and again exchanging a few 
 grave words, when they were roused by the echo of wheels under 
 the archway. 
 
 "Enfin! jecrois qu'elle arrive," said Montjoie, hurrying out. 
 
 "Heaven be praised if it's her!" exclaimed Wharton, as she 
 followed him, for the portico, being directly underneath, she could 
 not discern from above who alighted. Thomas had already run 
 down and was before them. Montjoie descended the staii's; 
 Wharton stood at the top looking over the balustrade. She 
 heard the door of the fiacre opened and the steps let down ; then 
 there was a momentary pause whilst the man was paid, but the 
 passenger did not speak ; " So," thought Whai-ton " it must be a 
 single fare, or she would ask, How much .?" There was nothijig 
 said to settle the important question that was agitating the 
 femme-de- cluimhre s bosom. It way not till the foot of the new 
 aiTival resounded in the hall that she lifted up her hands and 
 breathed out, "My God! It's my master!" as she hastily 
 retreated into her own room. 
 
 Sir Arthur ascended the stairs leisurely, for he had had a hard 
 day's work, and was weary both in mind and body. His hearty 
 too, was heavy within him; for a long future of discomfort and 
 disappointment lay before him. His marriage with Miss 
 Eardley had been one of pm-e preference. I do not say of 
 passionate love; but, as I have observed on a former occjision, 
 marriage from any sentiment, properly deserving that name, is 
 very rare indeed — at least, to this conclusion my observations 
 through life have led me. I do not mean to deny that there is 
 a great deal of passionate love in the world, of one sort or 
 another; but unfortunately it seems, somehow, in the present 
 state of society, to grow more like a weed than a flow^er. 
 
 But Sir Arthur Glenlyon had retained his early impressions 
 of the young Cattie Eardley — and when he returned from abroad.
 
 LINNY LOCKAVOOD. 265 
 
 after an absence of some years, and found her ripened into a fine 
 woman, with the superadded graces and polish of society, he did 
 not take time to investigate how the character had developed 
 under this attractive exterior; but there is nothing new or ex- 
 traordinary in this omission of Sir Arthur's — nine times in ten, 
 men and women have no real knowledge of the person to whom 
 they commit the happiness of their lives ; and the most sensible 
 men generally shew no more sense in this matter than other 
 people. Sir Arthur soon found out his mistake — and then his 
 good sense came into action. He did not worry his wife — or 
 drive her into rebellion by opposition. On the contrary, he left 
 her in the full enjoyment of her liberty and indepeudence — and 
 there is every chance that his prudence would have been re- 
 quited, and he would have won the day, had not circumstances 
 combined against him. A very comfortable, domestic, loving- 
 wife for a philosopher. Lady Glenlyon woidd not have been — but 
 she would have been a reasonably well-behaved woman of 
 fashion, setting a due value on her position and the material 
 advantages she enjoyed, till time might have taught her to ap- 
 preciate the character of her husband, and, under his influence 
 and judicious management, the better part of her own might 
 have gained the ascendant. All this inight have been, could they 
 have steered clear of one rock that lay in their path ; but fate 
 was against them — and they ran right upon it. The matter was 
 the worse, too, that Sir Arthur had not the true key to his wife's 
 character and conduct. He knew nothing of her early attach 
 ment to Yaughan, nor of her subsequent^disappointment ; and 
 her late proceedings, therefore, assumed a deeper dye of levity 
 and perversion, than perhaj)s justly belonged to them. If she 
 had had the candour, or her parents the wisdom, to make him 
 acquainted with all that had occurred with regard to Yaughan, 
 it is possible that the whole mischief might have been averted. 
 But Mr. and Mrs. Eardley, well pleased with the marriage, did 
 not like to risk the effects of such a confidence on his mind; 
 whilst Cat tie was restrained, not by the same motive — for had
 
 266 LIXNY LOCK WOOD. 
 
 slie loved Sir Arthur, she would assuredly have had no appre- 
 hension that a candid avowal of her girlish attachment would 
 have alienated the affection of a sensible man, or degraded her 
 in his opinion; but by the consciousness that she could not hon- 
 estly and frankly assure him that her early love was entirely 
 eKtinct, and her heart all his own. Fatal error, to marry with a 
 secret unrevealed ! 
 
 Well, Sir Arthur wearily ascended the wide staircase, saying 
 to Montjoie that he hoped every thing was done. Thomas 
 followed, with liis tongue in his cheek and a comic expression in 
 his eyes, pleasingly excited by the prospect of what he denomi- 
 nated in his ov.^n mind a rumpus. AVharton cowered in her own 
 room, with a little chink of the door open, against which she 
 l^laced her ear in painful expectation of what was to follow. 
 
 The first room on the top of the stairs was a sort of hall or 
 antechamber, which led to the salle a manger, into which Sir 
 Arthur proceeded, casting an eye on the various packages as he 
 went along. 
 
 "Are these all?" he said. 
 
 " Yes, all ;" answered Montjoie, " except my lady's boxes, which 
 go through the agents. Rubert sent for them this afternoon." 
 
 " But several of these were to have gone, too ; I gave him a 
 list, and desired him to fetch them to-morrow morning." 
 
 " He only brought a list of my lady's, and those we gave 
 him." 
 
 " I suppose Lady Glenlyon called there, and he'll come for the 
 rest to-morrow. Bring me some soda water ! " 
 
 Sir Arthur now entered the salon, the lamp was already lighted, 
 and seated himself at a table, on which lay a variety of papers, bills, 
 receipts, invitations, &c., &c., and began to look over and arrange 
 them. There was something melancholy, under the immediate 
 circumstances, in this unparticipated labour — the large room 
 lighted by a single lamp, and the invitations to balls and soirees, 
 past or to come, which, like withered flowers, seemed to speak of a 
 phase of life lived through and gone. Not that he had cared much 
 
 &
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 2G7 
 
 for these things at the time ; but it appeared to him now, that it 
 had been pleasant enough when he had been nightly handing his 
 wife into her carriage, en grande toilette, satisfied v.dth herself, and 
 therefore amiable to him; and, small as this amount of domestic 
 felicity was, he felt now he would have been glad to have recalled 
 the easy tranquillity and laissez oiler of that daily life. People 
 iu this world are apt to make the mistake of desiring and expect- 
 ing happiness; and of not being content when their reckoning 
 falls short of that sum. The heavens help them! Let them 
 aim at tranquillity; at freedom from carking cares, devouring 
 anxieties, inextinguishable regrets, and hold themselves blessed 
 when they have attained that amount of enjoyment. If they do 
 not, they will have good grounds for remorse when they look 
 back upon their opportunities wasted. 
 
 Sir Arthur, during the most genial period of his short expe- 
 rience of married life, certainly wished that his wife should evince 
 more regard for himself, and a gi'eater taste for quiet domestic 
 happiness; he would have been glad now to compromise, and 
 take her as she was, with all her faults, before the intimacy with 
 jMr. Edmonstone, whence he dated the commencement of his 
 positive discomfort and infelicity. The past, however, could not 
 be recalled, and he had to set his face against the future, bleak 
 as it looked; but, like a wise man, he resolved not to make it 
 worse by needless t}T.'anny and ill-temper. To leave Paris was 
 indispensable ; and on that point he and his wile were at the 
 present moment at variance. He was inexorable, and she 
 would not yield gracefully; but, beyond that, he contemplated 
 no imusual exercise of authority. His idea was to go to Italy, 
 whither he did not think it likely Yaughan would follow them ; 
 and once there, to endeavour by indulgence, and a life of gaiety 
 and amusement, to extinguish this unfortunate engouenient ; 
 and, no doubt, the scheme was a very judicious one — much moi-e 
 judicious than men, similarly situated, are usually capable of 
 concei\dng. The immediate difficulties, however, were great. 
 Kate's temper was high — she abhorred coercion of all sorts ; and.
 
 2-68 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 as he was dragging her away from Paris against her will, it was 
 pretty certain that she must hate him. He was very unwilling 
 that this sentiment should gain strength, and he would have 
 gladly done any thing he could to allay her resentment, short of 
 allowing a continuance of such conduct as must implicate his 
 own honour and her reputation. He had not seen her all day, 
 and he felt unwilling to go to bed without doing so: but every 
 one can feel how awkward and painful an interview is under 
 such circumstances. But there was a thing he had to tell, which 
 he hoped might produce a favourable reaction ; for he knew very 
 well that she was capable of generous conduct herself, and would 
 not be insensible to generosity in another. Now, he had put 
 the true construction on the affair of the bracelet. He was 
 satisfied that she had been attempting to raise money, either by 
 selling or pledging it; or by exchanging the jewels for paste, or 
 by some scheme or another in which the Richards were con- 
 cerned ; and he did not doubt that the money was wanted to 
 relieve Yaughan from his embarrassments. He had, therefore, 
 that morning done a thing which, whilst it was pleasing to the 
 generosity and loftiness of his own nature, he hojDed would be a 
 peace-offering to his wife. He had sent Yaughan anonymously 
 through his bankers a couple of hundred pounds. He felt rather 
 inclined to go and tell her that he had done this, before he went 
 to bed; and he sat for some time resting his head on his hand, 
 debating this point in his mind, till he was recalled from his 
 reverie by the clock on the chimneypiece striking eleven, where- 
 upon he suddenly rose and rang the bell. Montjoie answered 
 it, and Thomas followed unbidden. 
 
 "I am going to bed," he said; "the horses will be at the door 
 at ten. You had better tell Wharton so, if I don't see her;" 
 the last phrase implying that he was yet uncertain whether he 
 should see his wife that night or not. 
 
 Montjoie took up the bed-candlestick and lighted the candle; 
 Thomas drew near him and nudged his elbow; implying "Why 
 don't you tell him my lady's not come home?" But Montjoie
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 260 
 
 was an elderly, quiet, respectable man, who shrank from the 
 disagreeable office; and who kept on hoping still that his mis- 
 tress might return. Yet, the crisis became very embarrassing ; 
 and it would scarcely do to let Sir Arthur go to bed in ignorance 
 of so perplexing an event. The next apartment was the back 
 drawing-room, out of which Sir Arthur's apartments opened on 
 one side, and his wife's on the other. Into this room Montjoie 
 followed his master, with the candle in his hand, closing the 
 door behind him, much to the displeasure of Thomas, who, under 
 ordinary circumstances, would have immediately extinguished 
 the lamp, and retired to bed; but as he had a strong impression 
 on the present occasion, that the business of the night was not 
 over, he judiciously left the lamp lighted, and placed his ear at 
 the keyhole. Sir Arthur hesitated a moment ; perhaps if he 
 had been alone he would have turned to the left, and entered 
 his wife's boudoir, adjoining to which was her bed-chamber ; as 
 it was, with Montjoie behind him, he turned to the right and 
 entered his own. Wharton was in the boudoir with her ear at 
 the keyhole too, and the bedroom door ajar, ready for a retreat 
 if needful. 
 
 " He don't know it yet," she said to herself, as she heard him 
 enter his room ; the calm, measured step with which he crossed 
 the salon assured her of that; would Montjoie tell him? She 
 was not left long in doubt. Suddenly, the bedroom door was 
 flung oj)en, a hasty foot crossed the salon towards the boudoir, 
 and Wharton rushed back through her mistress's bed-chamber 
 into her own, and shut the door; which was opened the next 
 moment by her master. 
 
 " Wharton ! where's Lady Glenlyon 1 " 
 
 " I don't know, sir, I'm sure," said Wharton, beginning to cry. 
 " My lady called at home about two or three o'clock, and gave 
 orders about her trunks being fetched — but where she can be, 
 I'm sure, I can't think. Auguste says he left her at Vaugirard's, 
 the perfumer's." 
 
 '•Send Thomas for a coach!" said Sir Arthur to Montjoie,
 
 27.0 LTNNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 who withdrew to do so. " You had no reason to suj)pose Lady 
 Glenlyon intended not to return to dinner. Was she dressed 
 for the evening?" 
 
 " Ko, sir, not at all. My lady has on the dress she means to 
 travel in. My lady can't be at any party; but then she may 
 have stayed to dine with some friend, you know, sir." 
 
 " She may, certainly," said Sir Arthur, 
 
 '• I dare say that's it, sir," said Wharton, who nevertheless did 
 not tliink so. 
 
 Sir Arthur cast his eye towards the dressing-table and the 
 mantel -shelf, in the vague expectation of seeing a letter addressed 
 to himself ; but there was nothing. Was she gone? Had she left 
 him? He feared so ; yet it was a proceeding that did not appear 
 to him altogether consistent with her character. He had con- 
 ceived her capable of imprudence, but not of guilt; violently 
 averse to opposition and control, but not disposed to purchase 
 the indulgence of her inclinations at the cost of much self-sacri- 
 fice. He had all through acted on this conception of her 
 character; and it was only the extreme imjwrtance of removing 
 her from Paris that had induced him to exert an authority he 
 had been desirous hitherto of keeping in the backgi'ound. Re 
 saw clearly the conclusion to which the servants had amved ; 
 Montjoie's subdued voice and serious face, and Wharton's tears, 
 betrayed their thoughts ; but, however heavy the blow, he had 
 sufficient command of himself to conceal his own apprehensions, 
 whilst there was a hope that they might be groundless; or, at 
 least, to abstain from any open demonstration of them. His 
 cheek was paler than usual, his hand shook, and his white lip 
 quivered ; but he neither stormed, nor raved, nor indulged him- 
 self with any outbreak of passion. He had ordered Thomas to 
 fetch a coach on the spur of the moment, but without any de- 
 finite idea of what he was to do. To knock up his acquaintance 
 in the middle of the night, in order to inquire if they could tell 
 him what was become of his wife, was only to furnish Paris with 
 a week's gossip at his ovm expense. He might go to the police
 
 LIXXY LOCKWOOD. 271 
 
 office, and set tliem upon the sceot; but he shnmk from such a 
 proceeding on various accounts. If his wife had really left him, 
 what was the use of it ? Did he want her back ? Xo. Then 
 whj persecute or pursue her ? It was quite inconsistent with 
 his nature to do either. But the coach was at the door; and 
 as staying at home was painful, and he did not know what else 
 to do, he got into it, and drove to Yaugirard's. The ijerfumer 
 was in bed with his wife in the back shop, but by dint of ring- 
 ing and thumping, the coachman woke him, and brought him 
 to the door in his nightcap, in a tremendous fright, persuaded 
 that there was either an emeute or a fire. Sir Arthur jumped 
 out of the coach, and begging him mille ^jarc?07i5, requested a 
 word with him. Yaugirard admitted him, not a whit the less 
 frightened ; for, since it was not an emeute or a fire, he suspected 
 a visit so unusual must be of a political nature. He was soon 
 relieved, however, by Sir Arthur's saying, after he had apologised 
 for the intrusion, that knowing Lady Glenlyon was in the habit 
 of dealing with him, he had called to inquire if she had been 
 there on that day. Yaugirard responded, by requesting to 
 know who his visiter was; and on learning that he was the lady's 
 husband, he bowed and scmped, and declared his willingness to 
 serve him. " Oui, sans doute, miladi had done him the honour 
 to call and purchase some little articles of perfumeiy that morn- 
 ing; but she had taken them away in the carriage." 
 
 " Then she left your home in her own carriage?" 
 
 This was a question Monsieur Yaugirard said he could not 
 answer; he had not remarked — non mi ricordo. 
 
 " ^Yas there any one ^vith her?" 
 
 Monsieur Yaugirard had not observed: there were other 
 people in the shop, he remembered, at the moment; but he was 
 engaged in sei-ving his customers, and had not paid attention to 
 any one in particular. In short. Monsieur Yaugirard was im- 
 penetrable ; and Sir Arthur, perceiving it was no use to keep the 
 old gentleman out of bed, thanked him for his politeness, and 
 took his leave. Where was he to go next? He could only
 
 272 LIXNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 think of one place, and that was to the Hotel Valmont, Kue Riche- 
 lieu, where Yaughan Edmonstone lodged; so thither he went. 
 He had never been there, Lady Glenlyon having preferred to 
 drop his card at the door herself ; so he could speak to the con- 
 cierge without any fear of recognition. That worthy functionary 
 responded to the bell immediately. He was in bed; but as his 
 flock were not all in, he had not settled himself into a sound 
 sleep — he was sleeping with one ear open; so was his spouse. 
 
 " Yoila ce gar^on 1 " said she, giving him a nudge. " Tirez le 
 cordon ! " 
 
 That Tirez le cordon system, by the way, often strikes me as 
 singularly dangerous. By day, the porter is supposed to look 
 through the glass door of his lodge to see who enters ; but at 
 night he often does not; and I wonder improper people do not 
 make more frequent use of the opportunity to effect an entry. 
 On the present occasion, as they had no doubt of its being their 
 lodger returned, neither the man nor his wife moved till Sir 
 Arthur tapped on the glass and summoned them to speak to him. 
 
 "Monsieur Edmonstone est-il cliez lui?" said Sir Arthur. 
 
 "Pas encore rentr6!" returned the man. 
 
 " Not yet ! " answered Sir Arthur, with a gasp. '•' Is he 
 generally out so late as this?" 
 
 " Sometimes." 
 
 "But you expect him home?" 
 
 " Mais oui; of course, we expect him." 
 
 " He does not stay out all night?" 
 
 "iSTever! jamais, monsieur." 
 
 Sir Arthur slipped a five-franc j)iece into the man's hand, 
 and stepped into the coach, as wise as he came. Had Yaughan 
 been at home, it would have been satisfactory — it wou^d have 
 answered one question ; but his being out, argued nothing, and 
 left the matter exactly where it was; so there was nothing to be 
 done but drive home again mth the feeble hope that he might 
 find his wife there. His heart sank as he entered the gates 
 and savr the figure of Wharton at the window above, and
 
 iisrBnr lockwood. 273 
 
 Montjoie meeting him on the steps with a light, peering into 
 
 the coach to see who might be thexeL 
 
 *^ My ladv h not retnmed?" he asked, as the -valet let down 
 
 the steps. 
 
 " Xon. monsieur; toils ne Tarez pas troiiv6?''j, 
 
 "Xo,'^ said Sir Arthtir; "pay the coachman. Bring me a 
 
 light ; and go to your beds." 
 
 VOL. L
 
 274 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXII. 
 
 Sir Arthur sent his servants to bed, for he felt pretty sure his 
 wife would not return that night ; and if not that night — never. 
 At all events, if she did, he was there to admit her; and he 
 took up his position in the salle a manger, in order that, if a car- 
 riage entered the court, he might hear it. There was no danger 
 of his sleeping; indeed, he passed the remainder of the night in 
 pacing the room. The restless, agitated mind would not allow 
 the body to be still. It was not even as if he were sure she was 
 altogether gone; he would then have been able to direct his 
 thoughts to the future, and determine what to do next; there 
 was a bare possibility, however, that she might not have eloped 
 with Yaughan, but taken refage with some friend; resolved to 
 resist her husband's authority, and vindicate her own indepen- 
 dence, without committing herself to any more damaging pro- 
 ceeding; and his conception of her character inclined him in 
 some degree to this hypothesis. I need not dilate on the tedious 
 hours of the night; for, though passed without sleep, they were 
 not tedious — thoughts chased each other too rapidly through 
 the brain for the slow progress of time to be felt; and the 
 morning broke, and the world, outside and in, began to stir, be- 
 fore Sir Arthur Glenlyon had arrived at any clear conception 
 with regard to the first steps to be taken. 
 
 As soon as the servants made their appearance, he desired 
 Montjoie to bring him some coffee, and Thomas to counter-order 
 the horses. Then he dressed himself, sent for a fiacre, and drove 
 to his bankers to inquire if Lady Glenlyon had been there on 
 the preceding day; he merely said he wished to know if she
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 275 
 
 had closed her account with them. She had, and drawn out 
 the balance that was in their hands. Then he drove to Rubert's 
 in the Rue de la Paix, agents for the transmission of luggage. 
 
 " I requested that you would send for my luggage to-day — 
 Hotel du Khin, Rue Royale." 
 
 "We shall not neglect to do so. It is entered in our books." 
 
 "But you sent for some of the boxes yesterday?" 
 
 " I think not. Were any of the things fetched from the Rue 
 Royale yesterday?" said the clerk first addressed to another, 
 
 "No; none." 
 
 "You are sure?" asked Sir Arthur. 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 Lady Glenlyon, then, had provided herself with all the money 
 she could command, and had secured possession of the most valu- 
 able part of her wardrobe ! Now, then, for the Rue Richelieu 
 once more! The porter was out, but his wife was there, poking 
 her nose into her 2^ot aufeu. 
 
 " Bonjour, madame ! Monsieur Edmonstone, est il chez lui?" 
 
 " ISTon, monsieur." 
 
 ^' Do you expect him shortly ? " 
 
 "J don't know ; we have not seen him since yesterday." 
 
 " Has he any servant ? " 
 
 " None ; il y a madame sa femme la haut." 
 
 "' He is married, then?" 
 
 " Mais oui ; jolie petite dame." 
 
 Lady Glenlyon had told Sir Arthui' that Yaughan was mar- 
 ried to a person of very low birth, to whom he was exceedingly 
 attached, but who was not presentable; the first part of the 
 story she partly believed, the last she wished to believe. Sir Ar- 
 thur, at all events, had no reason to doubt the information. This 
 poor woman now was probably deserted : Sir Arthur wondered 
 whether she knew what had become of her husband. He re- 
 quested the portress to go up and inquire when Mr. Edmon- 
 stone was expected. 
 
 " It's in vain, sii'," answered the woman. " She has been down
 
 276 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 here twice already this morning, begging my husband to go and 
 seek him; but seek him — where? MonDieu! Les jeunes gens ! 
 who can tell where he may be in a city like Paris? He'll turn 
 up again by and by, no doubt, when he is tired of amusing 
 himself." 
 
 The question seemed now pretty well answered — the money 
 drawn out ; the luggage carried off; Yaughan Edmonstone and 
 Lady Glenlyon missing ; so Sir Arthur drove home again, where 
 he was saluted with the same inquiring faces. He shook his 
 head and retired silently to his chamber, in order to collect his 
 thoughts. 
 
 " Gone ! left me ! and with that fellow who hasn't sixpence in 
 the world, and deserts his unfortunate wife ! What is to become 
 of her?" and he buried his face in his handkerchief, and wept as 
 he contemplated the wretched fate she was carving out for 
 herself. 
 
 " Poor, unhappy girl ! reared in the lap of luxury and in- 
 dulgence; scarcely knowing what self-denial is; to encounter 
 poverty; the world's contumely; the neglect — probably the 
 deseii:ion — of the fellow for whom she has sacrificed so much; 
 for he will desert her, as he has deserted the wife she told me he 
 loved so much. Dreadfal! dreadful! poor, unhappy Cattie 
 Eardley!" and with that name she stood before him, the gay, 
 radiant, impulsive Cattie of fifteen, when she had first won his 
 fancy. For his own part, he had been very imprudent; he had 
 for some time been aware of that. " I have no right to visit 
 upon her the consequences of my own precipitation and want of 
 judgment; I should have waited till we were more acquainted. 
 Had I taken more time we should never have been married, and 
 she might have found somebody she liked better — for it is plain 
 I never had her afiections ; and she probably repented her ac- 
 ceptance of me on her wedding-day, if not before. This catas- 
 trophe is ill for me, but far worse for herself; my life is blighted, 
 but she is ruined." 
 
 In these and similar reflections some hours were passed, and
 
 LIXNY LOCKW'OOD. 277 
 
 tlien it became necessary to decide what was to be done next. 
 The first step seemed to be, that he should assure himself of the 
 fact that she had eloped with Yaughau Edmonstone; and for 
 this purpose he obtained a confidential interview with a com- 
 missary of police, who midertook to furnish him with the requisite 
 information in a few hours. It was easily enough obtained; a 
 visit to the passport-office settled the question. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Vaughan Edmonstone had, it appeared, had their passport vise 
 on the preceding day for Brussels. Mrs. Vaughan Edmonstone, 
 the veritable wife, was still at the Hotel Valmont in the Rue 
 Richelieu; and, as was ascertained from the concierge, growing 
 exceedingly alarmed at her husband's continued absence. 
 
 That was another dreadful phase of the case! What was to 
 become of that poor young wife? Moneyless, and probably 
 friendless? Sir Arthur thought of this, and resolved to call on 
 her. 
 
 Meantime, by that subtle conveyance which seems to travel 
 like the cholera and other evil infections, the news of Lady 
 Glenlyon's disappearance was beginning to spread abroad, 
 Thomas, the footman, inoculated every body with it that came 
 to the house ; the baker and the milkman were in possession of 
 all the particulars by eight o'clock ; the postman was indoctrinated 
 about nine. At half-past, the hairdresser, who came every 
 morning to instruct Wharton in the most approved method of 
 brushiQg her mistress's hair, was primed for further dissemination. 
 The man that came for the boxes from Rubert's, and the stable- 
 keeper that was to have furnished the post-horses, were duly 
 informed of the event; and the poi-ters and footmen at the 
 neighbouring hotels, were at an early hour prepared to serve up 
 the intelligence to their masters and mistresses with the cofiee 
 and dry toast. By and by one or two of Sir Arthur's acquaintance 
 called at the gate, and had a few words with the concierge; the 
 ladies sent their footmen on the same errand, just to ascertain 
 if the rumour was well-founded. Amongst the former was Sir 
 Bryan O'Grady — it was a matter in which he had a personal 
 
 t2
 
 378 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 interest; and lie lost no time in assuring himself that Mrs. 
 Vaughan's husband had eloped with another woman^ and left 
 her unprotected. 
 
 Whilst these events were occurring in the Rue Royale, Linny 
 herself was getting more and more alarmed about her husband. 
 On the previous day he had gone out, as usual, in the morning ; 
 but about noon he had unexpectedly returned. 
 
 " Linny, dear," he said, " I wish you to put on yoiu* bonnet and 
 go out directly." 
 
 "With you, Vaughan?" 
 
 "No, not with me, now. Is there any writing-paper here?" 
 
 " Here are two sheets." 
 
 " That will do. Now ; I want you to go round immediately 
 to all the tradespeople to whom we owe any thing, and get in 
 their bills." 
 
 " Yes," said Linny, pleased at the commission ; " but can you 
 pay them, Vaughan?" 
 
 '- Yes — not to-day; but tell them they shall all have their 
 money next week at furthest. I have made up my mind, Linny, 
 to leave Paris." *"' 
 
 " I am very glad of it, Vaughan ; and so glad you can pay the 
 bills." 
 
 " By the by, where is that passport?" inquired Yaughan, " I 
 must take it to the police-office." 
 
 " Here it is ; and don't forget about the lock of your dressing- 
 case," said Linny. 
 
 " Yeiy true. I'm glad you reminded me. I'll get it repaired ; 
 and now go, there's a good little girl, whilst I write a couple of 
 letters. Perhaps I may be out before you return; but I shall 
 not be long. Don't forget to leave me the keys." 
 
 Linny retired to put on her bonnet and shawl in a more 
 pleasing state of mind than she had experienced for some time. 
 There was something cheering and encouraging about Yaughan's 
 manner — she did not know what; but something that portended 
 a change, and surely any change would be an improvement on
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 279 ' 
 
 the dreary, hopeless, depressing life she had been leading for 
 some time. Then Vaughan^ spoke more kindly and freely to 
 her. The gloom, and mystery, and reserve, that had lately so 
 much increased the annoyances of her situation, had given place 
 to a state of huny and excitement. It was clear that something 
 had occurred, and as that something brought money and release, 
 she thought it must portend a favourable turn in their fortunes. 
 Of her hiisband's pecuniary affairs she had never known any- 
 thing, except the first flush and the subsequent scarcity of money ; 
 and she had no reason to doubt that his funds might be re- 
 plenished by the same sources as formerly. At any rate, an 
 event — a change — a something which seemed suddenly to have 
 broken down the barriers of ice that were fast congealing the 
 atmosphere betwixt her and Vaughan, and brought them together 
 again, was cheering and animating; and Linny, as she put on 
 her bonnet before the glass, saw the reflection of a brighter face 
 than she had seen there for some time. 
 
 When she re-entered the salon, Yaughan was looking over 
 some papers which he had turned out of the drawer of a 
 chiffonier, of which he kept the key himself; and already the 
 hearth was strewn with remnants of bills, and cards, and notes 
 of invitation. There were evidently serious intentions of a 
 move, and that suddenly. He was standing with his back to her. 
 
 " Well then, Yaughan ; now I'm going." 
 
 "Stay a moment," he said; and he stood still with a piece of 
 paper in his hand as if engaged in perusing it — but happening 
 to raise her eyes to the mirror near which he was, she was 
 startled by perceiving the expression of his countenance. His 
 eyes were closed, his lips were compressed, his brow was con- 
 tracted — he looked, in short, like a person seized with a sudden 
 spasm, who was endeavouring to stifle the natural manifestations 
 of his pain. 
 
 "Yaughan!" she said, "are you ill?" 
 
 " 111 ! no ; " he answered, turning round. " What makes you 
 think I'm ill?"
 
 280 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 " I thought you looked- 
 
 " Well, never mind how I look — my mind is bothered about 
 things. Well, now you're going, Linny, dear?" 
 
 " Yes, Yaughan." 
 
 There was a something in his voice and manner, she scarcely 
 knew what, that gave her an inclination to weep ; it would have 
 done her good to have laid her head on his shoulder and had 
 what we women call a good cry; but Yaughan, like all men, 
 hated scenes; and she struggled against the rising tears. 
 
 " You look very pretty in that bonnet, Linny," he said, kiss- 
 ing her forehead. 
 
 " It's rather a shabby one," she answered. 
 
 " The greater proof how pretty you must be, to look so well 
 in it," said Yaughan. " Yes, Linny ; I may be a fool, and do 
 many things that vex and distress you, and even appear unkind^ 
 and as if I did not really love you, as I do, better than any 
 woman in the world; but you must forgive me, Linny. Don't 
 believe those actions — don't take them as evidence — but believe 
 my words. Circumstances have been against me, and have 
 made me do many things I did not wish to do, and may make 
 me do more " 
 
 " But why, dear Yaughan, should you let circumstances " 
 
 "Never mind why; we won't discuss that question now. 
 Men are so. For my own part I have been very unfortunate; 
 and the faults of others have involved me in difficulties I could 
 never have foreseen. It's hard for a young fellow like me, Linny, 
 brought up as I was, and accustomed to the best society and 
 plenty of money, to find himself cut in the street by the men that 
 sat at his father's table, and driven to shifts my soul abhorred." 
 
 " And then, to make it worse, you married me without a 
 penny in the world. I oughtn't to have let you do it, Yaughan 
 but what could I do when you got me away from Mrs. Barnard's? 
 besides, I didn't know how you were situated, or I'm sure, even 
 then " 
 
 " It's the only wise thing I ever did in my life, Linny — upon
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 281 
 
 my soul I think so ; and shall always think so — wise for myself, 
 I meanj not for you, poor child! For your sake I wish I had 
 not done it." 
 
 " Don't say that, Yaughan (and here the tears would over- 
 flow a little) ; don't say that ; for if you love me, that is aU I 
 care for; and perhaps things may be going to take a good turn 
 now, and we may be happy yet ; happier, perliaps, than before, if 
 we can only learn to be content with what we can really afford." 
 
 " You may, Linny, and I trust you will — you ought to be 
 happy, because you deserve to be so ; as for me, God knows, I 
 have no right to expect happiness. There's an old saying, 
 Linny, ^as we sow, we must reap;' I suppose it has always been 
 so, and always will ; " and, as he uttered the last words, he 
 clenched his teeth with a sort of desperate agony. 
 
 Linny saw the pang, and a new idea took possession of her. 
 What was the cause of this sudden change 1 This melting of the 
 heart ? This evident remorse? "Whence came the money which 
 was so unexpectedly to relieve their difficulties ? Had Yaughan 
 done any thing he ought not? Had he entered into any perilous 
 enterprise or dangerous connexion, in order to recruit his funds ? 
 
 "Oh, Yaughan!" she said, suddenly seizing his arm, whilst 
 her countenance expressed the terror with which the idea in- 
 spired her; "Oh, Yaughan! you have not done any thing wrong 
 to get this money? You are not going to do any thing? I had 
 rather suffer the worst — ^let them put us in prison — any thing 
 they can do, rather than get money by dishonourable means." 
 
 "Pooh! pooh!" said Yaughan impatiently, whilst the blood 
 rushed to his face ; " you're a silly girl ! But, come, its getting 
 late, and we are losing time. So now, go ! " Here he threw his 
 arm round her waist, and drawing her towards him, he pressed 
 her to his heart and imprinted a kiss upon her lips. Linny drew 
 out her pocket-handkerchief and wiped the tears from her eyes, 
 straightened her bonnet and smoothed her hair before the glass; 
 and then saying, " Good by, dear Yaughan, for the present ; " 
 she tripped out of the room and down the stairs with a light
 
 282 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 
 
 heart, at least a lighter heart than she had borne for some 
 time. 
 
 As she disappeared, Yaughan walked to the window; he 
 knew she would cross the street, and go up the opposite one ; and 
 he wished to see her as long as he could. This was not a usual 
 proceeding on his part at all ; and yet some sympathy made her 
 turn her head and look up : as their eyes met, he kissed his hand 
 to her, and she nodded to him. When shall those eyes meet 
 again ? 
 
 When she was out of sight Yaughan turned away from the 
 window, and, burying his face in his hands, for a few moments 
 gave way to a natural effusion of sorrow. Then he sciewed 
 himself up to what he had to do ; fortified to go through his 
 task by the words Linny had dropped in regard to the money. 
 The promise that he should immediately have supplies to pay 
 the bills and enable them to leave Paris, was a pure fiction, 
 invented to get her out of the way whilst he arranged matteiB 
 for his own dej)arture ; so on that score her fears were groundless ; 
 but the horror she expressed at the mere idea of any thing dis- 
 honourable, gave him a lively notion of what she would feel if 
 she knew the history of the parcel, and confirmed his strong 
 repugnance to witnessing the effects of a discovery which must 
 be made sooner or later. The admiration and respect with 
 which she had looked up to him before their marriage as a being 
 of a superior order, and the advantage he had assumed over her 
 in the knowledge of all that was comme il faut and becoming, 
 rendered him acutely sensible to the degradation and ridicule of 
 a discovery, that the source of his sudden prosperity was little 
 better than a robbery; and that the victim of the crime was 
 her own father. No; Yaughan felt he could not face that; and 
 hastily scribbling a few lines on a sheet of paper, which he folded 
 and sealed and put in his pocket, he proceeded to his bedroom 
 to make some further arrangements. There hung Linny's dress- 
 ing-gown against the door, and all her little properties neatly 
 put away in the drawers; his own, with equal care, disposed in
 
 LINNY LOCKWOOD. 283 
 
 those appropriated to him. He had never felt the want of a 
 valet since his marriage, for his wife was eminently neat and 
 orderly; blessed qualities in a woman where there is not much 
 money in a man's pockets ; and her husband had felt the comfort 
 of them. Presently, Yaughan rang the bell, and desired Govion 
 to fetch him a coach, and on his announcing that he had done 
 so, he bade him carry down his portmanteau whilst he himself 
 descended with his dressing-case in his hand. The porter was 
 rather startled at the order to carry down the portmanteau, for 
 there were arrears of rent owing, and he was pretty well aware 
 that cash was scarce with the young couple au second; but the 
 order was sudden, and there was no time for deliberation. Be- 
 sides, the lady's dressing-gown hung visibly behind the door, and 
 her trunk and bonnet-box, and other articles belonging to one 
 or other of them, were quietly reposing in their places; so, 
 hoping for the best, the honest man obeyed ; and Yaughan drove 
 away from the Hotel Yalmont, leaving Linny behind him. 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
 ^'COBQDODALE AND CO., PBINTEES, LONDON. — WORKS, NEWTON.