> 
 
 "I, 
 
 
 a I B R.AR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 UNIVERSITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 825 
 
 W2I4-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 HARDEN HALL; 
 
 THE THREE PROPOSALS 
 a Nofad. 
 
 EDITED BY THE HUS. E B — 
 
 ' While memory watches o'er the sad review, 
 Of joys that faded like the morning dew ; 
 Peace may depart — and life and nature seem, 
 A barren path— a wildness and a dream." 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 N THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SMITH, ELDER, AND CO., CORNHILL. 
 
 1847.
 
 London: 
 
 Printed by Stewart and MnKCAY, 
 
 Old Railey.
 
 9ZB 
 v.l 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Permit me^ gentle reader^ to request your 
 indulg-ence^ while perusing- the following" pages. 
 I have not ventured to subscribe my name 
 to these volumes^ although it is as well known 
 to you as any in the '^ Court Circular f for 
 were I to do so^ probably you would have 
 exclaimed^ '' It is very questionable whether 
 any amusement can be derived from such a 
 source." But^ stop : possibly your opinion 
 in this case may be erroneous. How many 
 a dreary and profitable waste has been 
 brought^ by good culture^ to produce an 
 abundant crop. How improbable it was,
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 some five or six years ag-o, that Lord 6 
 
 B k should ever have proved himself 
 
 an orator ! But these are days of con- 
 tinual change ] so^ before you utterly con- 
 demn my simple tale^ make the attempt to 
 follow it to the end. Notwithstanding there 
 may be nothing* so very extraordinary in it — 
 
 " Dicam insigne, recens, adhue 
 Indictum ore alio," — 
 
 yet should it beguile some weary hour^ any 
 trouble the Author may have had will be 
 more than amply repaid. 
 
 " So that it wean me from the weary dream 
 Of selfish grief or gladness, — so it fling 
 Forgetfulness around me, it shall seem 
 To me, though to none else, a not ungrateful theme." 
 
 Childe Harold. 
 London J September , 1847.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 The Honourable and Eeverend Arthur Selby 
 had married early in life the daug-hter of the 
 Honourable Georg-e Lyndsay^ and soon after 
 their marriag-e he had been presented to the 
 livinof of Tonnino-ton, in the south of Eno-land. 
 Thither he took his fair bride 3 and thoug'h 
 she had been accustomed to a yer}- different 
 country^ haying* been brought up on the ro- 
 mantic banks of the Wye^ and with eyery 
 luxury both in the country and in town^ 
 she rejoiced in the change : she had chosen 
 her owTi lot in life^ and a happy one it 
 proved to her. There seemed little fear of 
 the illustrious family of Selby coming* to an 
 yoL. I. B
 
 2 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 end; for their union had been blest with 
 many children : ten in all. 
 
 The sons were dispersed in different parts 
 of the world^ in various professions ', but it is 
 chiefly with the daug*hters that my tale has 
 to do^ so we leave the sons to speak for 
 themselves. 
 
 Mrs. Selby had still remains left of g-reat per- 
 sonal beauty^ thoug-h of late years^ through ill 
 healthy her fine commanding* fig-ure had be- 
 come slightly bent. But nothing- could chang-e 
 the sweetness of her expression^ which beamed 
 with g-oodness. The mildness of her soft blue 
 eyes formed a fine contrast to the hue of her 
 hair, which, though now intermingled with 
 grey, showed that in her youthful days it had 
 been a dark hazel brown. 
 
 Our history commences at an important 
 epoch in Catherine Selby's life, when she had 
 attained the bewitching age of seventeen, and 
 was preparing to make her dSbut under the 
 chaperonage of her grandmother. Lady Anne 
 Lyndsay. She was full of joyful anticipa- 
 tions of all the pleasure that awaited her in 
 the great metropolis.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 3 
 
 It was towards the end of May^ and the 
 few trees that grace Grosvenor-square were 
 looking- greener and fresher than they ever 
 do at any other time of the year^ when a 
 travelling chariot was seen to stop at No. 46^ 
 Grosvenor-street. 
 
 It is always rather a nervous and agitating 
 moment whilst waitino; for the rino- of the door- 
 bell to he answered^ and so Catherine Selby 
 found it on the present occasion. Not that 
 anything approaching fear mixed with her 
 feelings of joy. She knew she was shortly to 
 he warmly embraced by her grandmother^ and 
 that nothing but pleasure awaited her ; still 
 she thought^ if I am disappointed : if this 
 London life does not answer all my expec- 
 tations : if she was beginning to torture 
 
 herself with doubts^ when the door was opened^ 
 and rushing up-stairs she found herself in her 
 grandmother's arms. '^ My dearest granny^ 
 how well you are looking^ and how lovely the 
 room is ! Newly furnished^ and a new piano- 
 forte ! How lovely everything looks ! I am 
 so happy to be with you again.'' 
 
 '^ And so am I, dearest child^ to see you 
 
 b2
 
 4 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 here ', but now tell me how your mother is^ an 
 
 when the rest intend to join us? for come 
 
 they must this season for a short time. Your 
 g-randfather says he insists on their doing* so. 
 What accounts have you of your brothers? and 
 all the others^ are they well?'' 
 
 The good old lady inquired after the whole 
 family individually. All these questions Cathe- 
 rine was charmed to answer^ for her heart 
 overflowed with affection to those she had 
 left. Her grandmother now begged she would 
 take some refreshment^ and rest herself j for^ 
 aid she^ smiling" and patting the beaming 
 cheek of her beloved grandchild^ ^^ You are to 
 beg-in your gaiety to-night^ by going to a 
 small soiree dansante at Lady Julia Read's ] 
 and as this is your first appearance in the 
 g-ay world^ I wish you to look particularly well^ 
 not wearied as if from a journey.'^ 
 
 '^ Oh; how charming ! a dance to-night ? I 
 am not a bit tired : quite ready for anything-^ 
 not the least inclined to lie down : much more 
 ready to frisk about f and^ humming* a waltz^ 
 she began whirling round the room. 
 
 ^^ Stop; stop; dear Catherine^ you must be
 
 HAEDEN HALL. D 
 
 under orders f and Lady Anne Lyndsay tried 
 (thoug'li without success) to look decided and 
 severe. ^^ You positively must save yourself 
 for this evening- : and now come and see your 
 new apartment.'^ So saying-^ they both left 
 the drawing-room_, and proceeded up-stairs. 
 
 When the}' reached the landing^-place^ 
 Catherine was turnino- to the rio-ht ; but her 
 grandmother said^ ^^I have a new room for 
 you^ my love^ away from the street^ that you 
 may be enabled to sleep quietly after all your 
 gaieties : it is fitted up ' with your favourite 
 pink^ so I hope 3'ou will like it.^' 
 
 ^^ Oh ! it is lovelyy indeed!" exclaimed 
 Catherine ] ^^ a perfect boudoir V^ 
 
 In fact_, it was so ] it was octagon^ with 
 pannelled oak wainscoting : that dark rich oak 
 that our forefathers so much admired. The 
 bedstead was also of dark oak^ carved ; and so 
 were four chairs^, and a curiously made table^ 
 in the window. This had always been a great 
 favourite of Catherine's^ because when shut up 
 it appeared a round table^ and when the legs 
 were drawn on one side^ it became an old- 
 fashioned arm-chair. But amongst all this
 
 6 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 ancient furniture^ more modern comforts were 
 not neglected. There was the toilette table, 
 with its white muslin cover^ lined with pale 
 pink^ on which stood a handsome mirror, 
 various bottles of scent^ and those numberless 
 little articles which adorn a bed-room that is 
 occupied by a person of taste. On the other 
 side stood a handsome bookcase, containing' 
 small editions of the best English authors, and 
 all materials requisite for writing. 
 
 ^^ And is this really to be my oivn room all 
 the time I am here?" exclaimed Catherine, in 
 such ecstasies with all she saw, as scarcely to 
 know what to do next. ^^ You have, indeed, 
 remembered all my fancies and whims, dearest 
 granny, and have made for me a perfect para- 
 dise ; and yet here is one thing I have not noticed 
 — an oak wardrobe, I declare !'' and on opening 
 the door, another exclamation of delight burst 
 from her. — ^^ Oh ! what a lovely dress ! what 
 roses !'' and holding up the wreath, a piece of 
 paper fell to the ground, with the following 
 words written on it : — ^^ For Kate's first ball, 
 with her grandfather's love.'' Tears filled 
 Catherine's eyes, as she read these few simple
 
 HARDEN HALL. 7 
 
 words. That an old man^ like Mr. Lyndsay^ 
 should think of her dress at all; appeared to 
 her such g-reat kindness^ that she could hardly 
 refrain from kissing- the little scrap of paper 
 which hore her g-randfather's writing*. 
 
 ^^And where is g-randpapa^ that I may 
 thank him? for I must thank him this very 
 minute." 
 
 ^^ No; my lovC; you cannot thank him 
 directly^ for he is g-one out to dinner " 
 
 ^^To dinner ; why^ it is not six o'clock !" 
 
 "No; my dear^ I know that, hut his old 
 friend, General Leg^g-e, dines at half-past five ; 
 and we dine at seven, that you may have time 
 to rest beforehand. Do not think of dressing 
 for dinner* hut lie down now, and at seven 
 your maid will come to you.'' 
 
 ^^ Oh, dearest g-ranny, do not go away ; I 
 would much rather talk and chatter with 
 you." 
 
 ^^ I know it, my dear," replied Lady Anne, 
 smiling' 5 ^^ so once more adieu*" and, kissing* 
 her own Catherine, as she fondly called her, 
 with o^reat tenderness, left the room. 
 
 ^^ What a whirl of anticipated delight I am
 
 8 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 in/' thoug'ht Catherine. " I am not the least 
 tired ; and yet^ if grandmama wishes it^ I will 
 rest. But lived there ever such a happy g'irl 
 as I am ? — everybody is kind to me. Papa^ 
 mama^ brothers^ and sisters^ Sandford^ and 
 Elizabeth — all kind to me. If they were, but 
 here^ I should have nothing- left to wish for: 
 but w^e shall soon meet ag-ain ; and; besides^ I 
 shall write to mama every day^ and to-morrow 
 how much I shall have to tell her^— all about 
 my ball to-nig-ht. I wonder if the g'own will 
 fit me. How I wish it was time to dress. 
 Those little tunics — how pretty they are, 
 looped up with roses, which look so real and 
 natural ! "Well, well, the Stanleys may say 
 what they like about London being- dull, and 
 London rooms being dark and dismal ; where 
 could one see a prettier room than this ? I 
 am determined to be pleased with everything* 
 and everybody.''
 
 HAKDEN HALL, 9 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Our youthful heroiue had scarcety come to 
 this desirable . and wise conclusion^ when^ 
 after a gentle knocking- at the door^ her maid 
 came in to say .that it wanted only a quarter 
 to seven^ — if Miss Selby Avished to make her 
 toilet. . 1.3.. m J> I 
 
 ^^ Isoi till after dinner^ Wilson^ thank you. 
 But do look into the wardrobe^ and see what 
 grandpapa has given me for a ball to-night.'^ 
 
 ^^ Why^ miss^ you are not surely going to a 
 ball to-night! you will be dead^ miss^ with 
 sheer tiredness." But the change in Mrs. 
 Wilson's tone and manner when she saw the 
 ball paraphernalia were so appareiit^ that 
 Catherine_, who had a , strong sense of the 
 ludicrous_, could not refrain from laughing^ 
 saying, ^^ Well, Wilson, do you think it pretty ? 
 Had I better go to the ball, or not?'^
 
 10 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 ^^ Oh^ yes^ miss, g'o^ by all manner of means : 
 but there is the bell^ miss^ for dinner^ and her 
 lad3^ship does not like waiting-." 
 
 ^^ No more she does^ Wilson^ so I will run 
 down if you will put out all my things for 
 me^ and I will come up between eig-ht and 
 nine.'^ 
 
 . At the drawing* -room door Catherine was 
 met by the old butler^ Parker^ who had often 
 carried her mother as a child^ and bore g-reat 
 affection to all her children. The good- 
 natured old man waited a moment till she 
 was fairly seated^ and then announced the 
 dinner. 
 
 The dining'-room had little to disting-uish it 
 from other large London dining-rooms^ with 
 the exception of some fine old family portraits 
 and pictures of Mrs. Selby and her brothers — 
 all of whom had died very young — by Sir 
 Thomas Lawrence. One of Mrs. Selby in her 
 childhood was ver}^ pretty : a fair-haired 
 boy^ her youngest brother^ was kneeling- at 
 her side^ near the grave of their elder brothers j 
 the attitude of the children was strikingly 
 beautiful : it seemed as if they were pouring
 
 HARDEN HALL. 11 
 
 out all their g-riefs and childish sorrows (some- 
 times how keenly felt ! ) at the ^rave of those 
 who^ when alive^ had soothed and softened 
 all their little disappointments and troubles. 
 Another — and this was the one that Catherine 
 liked the best — represented her mother when 
 about the age of ten^ crossing a stream^ on a 
 little rough Shetland pony: the attitude of 
 the child was so fearless and happy^ that she 
 appeared to smile upon the difficulties which 
 beset the mountain - path she must traverse 
 ere she reached her home. 
 
 Lady Anne Lyndsay herself had never been 
 handsome 3 though she was a fine^ striking-- 
 looking woman^ tall and slight^ with a plea- 
 sant countenance^ and fine brown eyes : her 
 hair^ when youngs had rivalled the raven's 
 back^ but now it was perfectly white^ and had 
 been so for many years. 
 
 The two ladies had soon despatched their 
 dinner^ and then retired to the drawing- 
 room^ where Catherine^ after trying the new 
 pianoforte^ and pronouncing it perfect^ began 
 to arrange a bouquet with some of the flowers 
 she had brought up to toTvni with her. At
 
 12 . HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 lengthy to her delight^ it was time to g'O and 
 dress; tlioug-h her g-ranny would willing-ly 
 have waited another hour : but as the clock 
 struck nine^ she rose^ saying'^ — 
 
 ^^ Now^ my love^ your labour must begin ; 
 and when you are dressed come to my boudoir 
 for some tea_, where you will probably find 
 your grandfather waiting to see you : but do 
 not hurry and fuss yourself^ or Mrs. Wilson 
 will be angry with both grandpapa and 
 grandmama." 
 
 About an hour after this little conversation, 
 a gentle knocking was heard by Lady Anne 
 at her door, and Catherine entered. 
 
 '^ Oh, my dear grandpapa, how do you do ? 
 how kind of you to give this charming* dress ! 
 does it not look beautiful ?" and she turned 
 round, and held it out to the pleased old man. 
 
 ^^ It does, indeed, become you very well, 
 my dear: I am very glad you like it so 
 much; and here are two bracelets for you." 
 Saying this, the kind old man took up two 
 little red leather cases, and showed her a gold 
 bracelet studded with turquoise, and a hair 
 bracelet with a dark blue enamel clasp. ^^ This
 
 HARDEN HALL. 13 
 
 last is your gTandmother's and my hair^ my 
 dear^ which I knew you would value very 
 much." 
 
 " I do^ indeed. A thousand thanks for 
 both ! I shall alwa3's wear the hair brace- 
 let^ — never be without it. There is the car- 
 riao'e ! I am sure I heard the bell rino* :" and 
 her colour heightened^ and her bright eyes 
 flashed brig-hter than before. Her grand- 
 father then announced his intention of o-oino* 
 that night with them^ that he might see his 
 favourite little Kate^ as he always called her^ 
 dance at her first ball. 
 
 They soon arrived at Lady Julia Eead's. 
 She lived in Manchester-square^ the corner 
 house. Sounds of music met their ears at the 
 door ', and they were ushered^ by a long* file 
 of servants^ up-stairs^ into a lofty square room^ 
 so full of easy chairs^ ottomans^ stands of 
 flowers^ and various ornaments^ that no little 
 caution was necessar}- in threading- 3'our way 
 through this labyrinth of furniture. In the 
 first apartment there were not many of the 
 company assembled^ but as the}' proceeded^ it 
 was evident^ from the increased noise of voices,
 
 14 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 that they approached the scene of action , and 
 when they had crossed this overstocked up- 
 holsterer's shop^ as it mig"ht with truth he well 
 called^ they saw that it opened into a long* 
 gallery where dancing* was going on. Here 
 they found Lady Julia Eead and her hushand 
 waiting to receive their company. She was at- 
 tired in white crape^ made in the most juvenile 
 and most fashionable style. Mr. Lyndsay 
 was her cousin; and when he did her the 
 honour to invite her to his hospitable house 
 in Grosvenor-street^ she very graciously ac- 
 cepted the invitation^ and was pleased at being 
 noticed by him : but in the country she did 
 not scruple to forget all the kindnesses she 
 had all her life received from him. Nothing* 
 of this waS; however^ visible in her manner at 
 this moment ; and her reception was most gTa- 
 cious and cordial. When Lady Anne Lyndsay 
 said^ ^^ You must let me introduce our grand- 
 daughter^ Miss Selby^ to you/' she exclaimed^ 
 in the most natural way^ 
 
 ^^ Oh^ pray do! We are cousins^ you know^ 
 and ought to be well acquainted with one 
 another."
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 15 
 
 This introduction being- over^ Lady Julia 
 Read presented Iter cousin to her husband^ an 
 insignificant little man^ bedizened with chains 
 and ring's^ and wearing' a profusion of lig"ht, 
 gTeasy-looking' hair. He had married for 
 rank^ and his wife for money : there was not 
 much love lost between them : the}^- had both 
 obtained the two thing-s most coveted by them^ 
 and managed to keep up a decent show of 
 affection in the eyes of the world. 
 
 ^^We must get Miss Selby a partner/' 
 said Mr. Eead^ putting his glass to his eye^ 
 and starinof into the other room, while his 
 fingers mechanically fidgeted about a large 
 bloodstone seal suspended from a massive gold 
 watch chain. ^^Are you/'' he continued^ to 
 Miss Selby^ ^^ acquainted with my nephew^ 
 Mr. Eead?'' 
 
 ^^ Not in the least/' replied Miss Selby. 
 
 ^^ Then I am sure he will feel honoured by 
 dancing with you^ if not engaged. But^ 
 really/' he continued^ affectedly^ ^^ he is such a 
 pet with all the ladies^ that I very much fear 
 we shall not catch him." 
 
 Mr. Lyndsay touched Catherine's arm^ and
 
 16 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 hoped she was duly sensible of the ^eat 
 honour that awaited her. A brig-ht smile 
 was her reply; and the next minute she 
 heard, ^^Mr. Bead,— Miss Selby." 
 
 " Will Miss Selby dance with me the next 
 "valse V^ he inquired, in an affected tone. 
 
 She bowed assent, and they moved off to 
 joip the circle who were whirling round at 
 railroad pace. 
 
 Catherine was passionately fond of dancing*, 
 and she had now a partner equally so ; there 
 was not more time for conversation than 
 usually happens upon such occasions. She 
 settled, in her own mind, that the nephew 
 was superior to his uncle. She found him 
 quiet and gentleman-like, though a prodigious 
 dandy. When the dance was ended, they 
 proceeded to the refreshment room, where 
 they were mixed up with the rest of the 
 company; and, as Catherine's acquaintance 
 was as yet very limited, Mr. Kead introduced 
 her to Mr. Drake and his fair partner, the 
 lovely Miss Elliott. 
 
 Catherine was young enough to be charmed 
 with everything she saw. She was delighted
 
 HARDEN HALL. 17 
 
 with the little room and a perfect bijou of a 
 conservatory that opened into it^ scented by 
 oranofe trees and the most fraofrant roses and 
 jasmine. 
 
 ^^I think we oug'ht now to return to 
 grandmama^ Mr. Read ; she will be looking 
 out for me." 
 
 As Catherine said this^ she saw a smile of 
 derision on Miss Elliott's fair face^ who whis- 
 pered something to her partner^ and he smiled 
 in return. 
 
 Bather annoyed at this^ Catherine moved 
 faster away^ and after some little pushing and 
 squeezing^ succeeded in finding Lady Anne 
 Lyndsay^ who was indefatigable in providing 
 her with partners. There were at this ball^ 
 the usual amount of well-dressed people and 
 pretty g'irls , to Miss Selby there seemed to 
 be more beauty than she had ever seen before 
 collected together. She was a novice in the 
 London world^ and knew nothing of the 
 countless numbers of handsome people that 
 are nightly seen flitting from one gay festive 
 scene to another. But what excited her 
 horror was the old Duchess of B ^ rouged 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 up to the eyes^ with plumpers in her cheeks to 
 keep them from becoming' wrinkled ', a whole 
 set of false teeth — which^ by some mistake^ 
 showed all the g'old fastening's — and a black 
 wig*. Not content with a common close 
 cap^ which might have hid some defects and 
 kept the wig" straight^ she must needs have 
 her diamonds put as a tiara round her head ; 
 and her pink satin g'own was made in a most 
 unbecoming" style^ so decoltee that her wizzened 
 throat was seen to perfection^ more resembling- 
 dried parchment than anything* else. 
 
 ^^How dreadful !^^ said Catherine^ as the 
 old^ dressed-up automaton passed her. ^^ How 
 different from you^ grandmama.'' 
 
 The contrast was indeed striking^ for the 
 neck of the latter was carefully covered up 
 with a snow-white handkerchief — her grey 
 curls confined under a neat little close cap. 
 She looked what she was — an English grand- 
 mother of high degree ; and as Catherine 
 gazed on her^ she thought that; with the 
 exception of her own beloved mother^ she 
 had never seen so loveable a face. 
 
 Two o'clock came^ and feeling tired from
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 19. 
 
 her journey^ Catherine was quite ready to 
 leave the g-ay scene^ having* enjoyed her 
 evening* very much. A sound and refreshing* 
 sleep recruited her for the labours of the 
 following day. 
 
 C 2
 
 20 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Breakfast was hardly over the next day, 
 when a note was brought to Lady Anne 
 Lyndsay. Catherine was feeling* impatient 
 to know the contents. She felt a presenti- 
 ment that it concerned her. Her grandmother 
 seeing plainly by her tell-tale face how inte- 
 rested she was^ put the note into her hands 
 without any comment. It ran thus : — 
 
 "Dear Lady Anne^ 
 
 " I have taken an opera-box for this 
 evening^ and if you will allow me to do so^ 
 I shall have much pleasure in taking Miss 
 Selby with me^ 
 
 Ever yours truly, 
 
 Lucy Elliott.'* 
 
 " Well, my dear, what do you say 
 
 ?"
 
 HARDEN HALL. 21 
 
 ^^ Oh ! g'o ; g'O; decidedly^ if I nQa3\ The 
 opera is the very thing- I most wished to go 
 to^ if you have no objection^ g-ranny. But 
 who is this Mrs. Elliott ?'' 
 
 '^ "WTiy^ did you not see her last nig'ht at 
 the ball^ and her pretty daug-hter with her ? 
 She is a kind person^ and I am very g*lad you 
 should go with her : but see if there is no 
 time mentioned. Yes^ in the cover — eight 
 o'clock ; so you will see the whole affair^ and 
 I trust enjoy it very much.'' 
 
 After the answer had been duly de- 
 spatched^ and a long letter home^ Catherine 
 thought she ought to occupy herself with 
 reading'^ but it was quite useless. Opera ! 
 opera ! was all she could think of^ and she 
 threw away the book in disgust. While^ 
 therefore^ she is giving herself up to these 
 delightful anticipations^ we must beg* our 
 readers will follow us to another scene. 
 
 A man^ who appeared about six] and thirty, 
 was sitting leaning his arm on the breakfast- 
 table, lolling' over a new^spaper. He might 
 once have been good-looking 3 but now in 
 the deshabille of a blue silk dressing-gown, and
 
 22 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 uncombed lig'lit hair^ it was difficult to imagine 
 he ever could have boasted of good looks. 
 Nearly opposite to him^ in an equally listless 
 attitude^ was seen reclining* a fat Avoman in 
 a yellow dressing-gown^ wearing bracelets and 
 rings. 
 
 '^ I think your nephew might have been 
 here by this time to inquire how we are after 
 all the racketing* of last night/' said Lady 
 Julia Bead : for she it was ; ^^ besides^ I have 
 been thinking of a very good match for him.'^ 
 
 ^^You had better let him manage his own 
 affairs on that head^ and not have a finger in 
 every pie^ Lady Julia^" replied her husband^ 
 in a sullen tone. 
 
 ^^Have a finger in every pie^ indeed! and 
 who is better able to managfe a o^ood match 
 for him than myself? You do not think^ Mr. 
 Read^ do you^ there are many women in 
 my station of life who would demean them- 
 selves by marrying the son of a trades '' 
 
 '^ Stop^ wife^ — stop this moment V' exclaimed 
 Mr. Read^ becoming scarlet^ ^^you gave me 
 your word of honour^ woman^ that you would 
 never mention that fact to any one^ and let
 
 HAEDEN HALL. S3 
 
 me tell you that there are few people who 
 would let an extravag*ant wife have her own 
 way so much as I have always let you^ since 
 that cursed day we w^ere married. Ah^ well I 
 rememher that da}^ ! I thought 3'ou then 
 pretty and g'ood ', hut I have lived to see my 
 mistake^ and have discovered that all is not 
 o'old that o'litters.'^ 
 
 Here he was interrupted hy a loud laugh 
 from Lady Julia^ who exclaim ed^ — 
 
 ^^ Well^ 3''ou have put 3^ourself into a mig-hty 
 rag'e all ahout nothing*. But now tell me^ 
 when can you let me have some more money? 
 for I owe ahove thirty pounds^ which must be 
 paid to-day. Mr. Read^ do not start and look 
 so frightened^ as if you had never heard of 
 thirty pounds in your life ! — when I know 
 for certain that you paid 3^esterday fifty 
 pounds for some paltry plants which nobody 
 cares for. However^ money I want^ and 
 money I will have — I must have^ or else my 
 father^ Lord JRawden/^ with marked emphasis 
 on the last two words, ^^ shall hear of it.'^ 
 
 So sayings she got up and left the room. 
 Mr. Bead's reflections were none of the
 
 24 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 pleasantest after her departure : not that her 
 presence would have softened matters in the 
 slightest deg'ree. He saw himself daily 
 getting" more involved ; and though a rich 
 man^ no fortune could stand such needless ex- 
 travagance as hoth he and his wife had heen 
 guilty of. There was hut one expedient^ and 
 that was persuading his nephew to cut off the 
 entail^ so that he might dispose of his house 
 and property : hut^ though dead to most good 
 feelings^ he still felt some compunction in 
 doing' this. His father had made a great 
 fortune hy trading in wool; and at his decease 
 left his son a fine place in Somersetshire^ with 
 a handsome fortune to keep it up^ strictly 
 entailed ; so that_, though his manners and 
 education were decidedly against him^ he 
 contrived to catch Lady Julia Mawle}^; and 
 prevail on her to marry him : she not heing' 
 very unwilling* at two and thirty^ thinking-^ 
 prohahly — and as she herself considered most 
 correctly — that it was her last chance. This 
 ill-assorted match had proved no happier 
 than many others : at the end of the first 
 week the pair had discovered that the less they
 
 HARDEN HALL. 25 
 
 saw of one another^ the more agi'eeable it was 
 to both parties 3 though^ at the same time^ 
 it was mutually agreed upon^ that in the eyes 
 of the world all should appear most loving 
 and affectionate. 
 
 Happily no children had followed their 
 union^ to be brought up in the same vicious 
 and dreadful principles : for that they were 
 Christians^ living in a Christian land^ never 
 seemed to occur to either of them. 
 
 It is now time to inquire how Lady Julia 
 Head occupied herself in her boudoir : it was 
 a round room at the end of the gallery we 
 have before mentioned 3 and she had scarcely 
 had time to array herself in the smartest 
 morning toilet^ before the nephew^ par ex- 
 cellence , made his appearance. 
 
 '^ My dear boy/' she began^ '^ you are the 
 very person I wanted. You must come and 
 sit by me and listen to all I have got to say ; 
 for^ in the first place^ you have been the cause 
 of a most serious altercation this morning 
 between your uncle and myself.'' 
 
 ^^ Good heavens ! madam^ you don't mean 
 it?"
 
 26 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 ^^ I do^ indeed : but that is of little moment. 
 A little tiiF of this sort blows over so soon, 
 and is of such rare occurrence, that it was 
 hardly worth mentioning-. But now tell me, 
 how did you like the ball last nig-ht?" 
 
 ^^I thoug'ht nothing* could have gone off 
 better, — everything* was so beautifully ar- 
 ranged I but what is of still rarer occurrence, 
 people seemed pleased and satisfied. There 
 was one charming* girl. Of all the young* 
 ladies I have seen a long* time. Miss Selby 
 appears to me the most attractive : there is 
 none of that manner now so common amongst 
 girls, of laying themselves out to be caught 
 by the first man w^ho is fool enough to attend 
 to them : she seemed a perfect novice in such 
 arts." 
 
 ^^ And so, my dear, of course she is ; and as 
 you seem so much smitten with her, I regret 
 the more the report which I heard just now, 
 that she was to marry no one who had not 
 ten thousand a year. But I don't believe it^ 
 for her grandfather has always said that he 
 would provide amply for her* and I think 
 your best plan is to make up to her as much
 
 HAEDEN HALL. ^7 
 
 as you can. If she has anything-^ it Avill be 
 acceptable at any rate : she is to be the 
 ^ belle' this season^ and therefore first come first 
 served^ as the old saying* is ; and you were the 
 very first person she danced with.'' 
 
 '' Mere chance^ mere chance^ dear aunt." 
 ^^ Well^ have it so : but was it mere chance 
 that I overheard her say to Lady Anne Lynd- 
 say^ that you were very handsome^ very agTee- 
 able^ and she liked you very much ?" saying 
 these words very slowly. '^ My plan is/' con- 
 tinued Lady Julia^ ^'^that 3'ou at once call 
 there^ and inquire after her. IN'o^ stop^ that 
 will not do. Go^ with my compliments^ and 
 beg" to know whether the old g-entleman is the 
 worse for coming- here last nig'ht. And^ stay, 
 I have no doubt but that Miss Selby is g'oing 
 somewhere this evening*, so g'ive her this 
 bouquet, with my kindest love. Find out 
 from the servant where she is to be found this 
 evening" ; and 3'ou must contrive to g*et there 
 also, for I am determined to take you in hand, 
 and have you well married. You can have 
 no objection to a pretty wife with 2,000/. 
 a year, which is the fortune of two old maideu
 
 28 
 
 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 aunts^ who are morally certain to leave her 
 every farthing* they have scraped tog'ether 
 during- the last sixty years/^ 
 
 ^^ Well^ aunt^ I will do all this^ if you wish 
 it; hut I am not yet over head and ears in 
 love/^ 
 
 ''- Love ! nonsense^ hoy^ who ever talks of 
 love to a woman of the world like myself? 
 Talk of it as much as you please to Miss 
 Selby^ but never mention it to me. Come 
 to me this time to-morrow^ and tell me how 
 your aifairs are g'oing- on \ in the mean time, I 
 shall immediately spread the report that Miss 
 Selby accepted you last nig-ht, too thankful 
 for such a g-ood opportunity of escaping- from 
 her old granny.'' 
 
 Great was Mr. Eead's disappointment^ when 
 he reached Grosvenor-street^ to find every one 
 was out. What to do with the noseg-ay was 
 the next question, and after having well 
 weighed every circumstance, he resolved to 
 return it to his aunt, telling the simple truth. 
 Poor 3^oung man ! he was weak, as well as — 
 but he shall speak for himself. Lady Julia 
 Read was angry at her bouquet being re-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 29 
 
 turned^ and immediately wrote a note to Miss 
 Selby^ to say that her nephew had just been 
 to call on her for the express purpose of offer- 
 ing" her this bouquet for the opera^ but that 
 he was too humble and too modest to leave it 
 with the servant^ so she had taken upon her- 
 self to send it. The note was hardly de- 
 spatched^ when Lady Anne's cards were 
 brought to her.
 
 30 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 That eveniiig- saw Catherine dressed and 
 ready at the appointed time^ not without some 
 nervousness at the thoug-hts of going* into 
 public with a perfect stranger. She had not 
 much time to ruminate over these disagreeable 
 feelings^ and soon found herself completely 
 settled in the front seat of a most capital box 
 in the centre of the house. She had never 
 been at the opera before^ and this was a very 
 crowded night ; at first the multitude of faces 
 quite bewildered her^ but she soon became ac- 
 customed to the sig'ht. Her rapturous delight 
 was intense when the music began^ and when 
 Lablache^ and Persiani^ and Grisi filled that 
 immense space with their powerful voices^ 
 she scarcely dared to breathe^ so great was 
 her fear of losing a single word : hers was 
 pure unmixed delight. She was not long left to
 
 HARDEN HALL. 31* 
 
 these pleasing reflections^ for the first act was 
 hardly over when young* Mr. Elliott appeared 
 with a friend^ whom he introduced as Lord 
 Fleetwood. Catherine started hack as she 
 heard his name^ colouring' deeply 3 hut after 
 giving a distant how of recognition^, appeared 
 again intensely interested in all she saw. She 
 strove^ indeed^ to check the ^^ tell-tale '' in 
 her cheeky and to appear an indifferent spec- 
 tator of what she saw passing between Lord 
 Fleetwood and Miss Elliott. The latter was 
 dressed in pale blue^ and as Catherine looked 
 upon her she certainly could not hut ac- 
 knowledge to herself that she looked very 
 lovely. 
 
 ^^ I hope^ Miss Selby^ you are enjoying your 
 season/' said his lordship ; ^^ it was quite h}^ 
 chance I heard you w^ere in town." 
 
 This^ and such common-place remarks^ was 
 all that passed ', and^ to the eye of strang*ers_, 
 they were to all appearance perfectly indiffe- 
 rent to each other. 
 
 Miss Elliott spoke hut little to any one 
 save Lord Fleetwood^ w^ho paid her great 
 attention j and Catherine heard him whisper
 
 32 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 to her^ ^^ Pray how did you become acquainted 
 with Miss Selby? Has she been long in 
 town?" Miss Elliott was not one who liked 
 to be cross-questioned about other pretty 
 young ladies : her own idol^ she expected 
 others to make her theirs. Her answer was^ 
 therefore^ short and concise, that they had 
 met the night before at a ball given by Lady 
 Julia Eead. 
 
 Lord Fleetwood saw immediately from her 
 mortified tone that he had been guilty of a 
 great oflence, and to reetify it began imme- 
 diately to talk to this amiable young lady 
 about her dress, the beauty of her curls, her 
 bracelets, &c., and her pretty face soon re- 
 sumed its bright smile. 
 
 In the mean time, Mr. Eead had made his 
 appearance, and was endeavouring to gain 
 Catherine's attention: she was but a bad actress, 
 and could not very quickly recover her compo- 
 sure, though she made great efforts to do so j 
 however, she observed, from time to time, a 
 cold smile. come over Lord Fleetwood's face, as 
 he caught her eye. In about an hour, both 
 the gentlemen took their leave, and Catherine
 
 HARDEN HALL. 33 
 
 beg-an to breathe more freely^ and thoroug'hly 
 to enjoy the opera: but she was not sorry 
 when the carriag-e arrived; and after thanking* 
 Mrs. Elliott for her kindness^ was g'lad to find 
 herself once more alone in her own room. 
 Her maid havino- retired to rest — beino- to use 
 her own expression^ ^^ knocked up with sheer 
 tiredness/' — and also every soul in the house^ 
 the stillness^ perhaps^ Avorked upon Catherine : 
 she could not contain herself any longer^ and 
 bursting' into tears^ she mentally exclaimed, 
 ^^ So all ni}' pleasure is g'one^ if I am to meet 
 this horrid man at every turn. I will return 
 home to-morrow. But how can I be so sel- 
 fish^ so undutiful to those who have done so 
 much to promote my happiness ? I had better 
 by far tell g-randmama all my adventures to- 
 morrow." Then she recollected that they were 
 not her own adventures she had to relate, but 
 those of one equally dear to her — those of one 
 she loved with the truest sisterly affection j 
 and not feeling- at liberty to do this, she wisely 
 resolved merely to mention having- met Lord 
 Fleetwood, and nothino* more. 
 
 While Catherine is quietly sleeping-, we 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 84 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 must beg' to draw the attention of our readers 
 to her mother and sister Susan. The former 
 was deeply interested in reading a closely 
 written letter ; it was from her daughter^ and 
 contained the account of her first night at the 
 opera. Here there were no reservations ; she 
 had nothing* to hide from such a mother and 
 sister^ who from earliest childhood had been 
 accustomed to read her^ and know her every 
 thoug'ht. But when Mrs. Selby came to the 
 detested name of Lord Fleetwood^ a mist came 
 over her eyes^ and she trembled so violently 
 that the letter was nearly falling* from her 
 hands ; then^ making* a strong' effort^ she 
 repressed these outward emotions^ and merely 
 said to Susan^ ^^ A little water^ my love.^ 
 
 Susan was very much alaimed when she 
 saw her mother's face^ and exclaiming*^ ^^Good 
 God! has anything* happened to Catherine?" 
 snatched up the letter. There she saw ample 
 cause for her mother's agitation^ and rapidly 
 figured to herself, with the brilliant imag*ina- 
 tion of sixteen^ the misery a renewed inter- 
 course with such a man must bring* to all 
 parties.
 
 HAKDEN HALL. 35 
 
 Mrs. Selby was j^erplexed by the most 
 painful thoug'hts , at length she said, " Ca- 
 therine must remain where she is : she must 
 learn to control all emotion on seeing- Lord 
 Fleetwood : she must learn to struggle against 
 feelings such as we^ my dear Susan^ this 
 moment have given way to. Eemember what 
 the dying words of your beloved sister were 
 two years ago^ — ^Let my sad story be for- 
 g'otten^ and with it all angry feelings towards 
 the author of my unhappiness.' " 
 
 Floods of tears prevented Susan giving any 
 other answer^ except throwing' her arms 
 round her mother^s neck and imploring a 
 blessing on that beloved head — on that mother 
 Avho in every trial^ every distress^ soothed her 
 children's spirits ', taught them to look to the 
 Author of all good for peace and comfort j 
 and still more b}' her example than by her 
 precepts^ showed how necessary it was to pre- 
 serve a cheerful demeanor towards all men. 
 
 Mrs. Selby now recommended her daughter 
 to take some exercise^ knowing that nothing 
 so soon chano'es the thouo-hts and ideas of 
 young people as being- in the fresh air. Susan 
 
 D 2
 
 36 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 would have remonstrated^ but seeing" her 
 mother decidedly wished it^ she said she would 
 walk to Newstead Lodge^ and see the Stanleys. 
 
 ^^ Do^ my love ; but I need hardly say, 
 never mention a syllable about our affairs to 
 any one beyond our own immediate circle. 
 You know that I encourage^ as much as pos- 
 sible^ every openness when we are quite alone, 
 but never to strangers does it ansAver to talk 
 of private affairs.'' 
 
 Smiling'^ and giving a cheerful assent, after 
 kissing- her mother, Susan quickly equipped 
 herself for walking, and set off. It was only 
 a mile to Newstead Lodge, where she was 
 o-omp-. Those who have never visited the 
 south of England, imagine that the whole of 
 Wiltshire is like Salisbury Plain, — one uni- 
 versal down from one end of the country to 
 another. Susan had often heard this obser- 
 vation made by strangers, but she knew how 
 untrue it was ; and as the sun shone brightly 
 above her, she felt her mother had been rig-ht 
 in sendinof her out. 
 
 Her path lay along the banks of the river 
 Avon, which by Tonnington winds very pret-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 37 
 
 tilv, and Avas of considerable width. That part 
 of the country is well wooded ] and the way 
 she went led through pleasant fields that 
 sloped down to the water^ and^ at this time of 
 the year^ were filled with haymakers^ alto- 
 gether forming a gay scene. Many groups of 
 children were at play^ some making crowns of 
 the yellow buttercups^ while others wove chains 
 with the bright daisies ; and one little curl}'- 
 pated boy particularly attracted her attention : 
 some ofthose beautiful flowers commonl}' called 
 rao'o-ed robins were twisted in his dark curls, 
 and he looked so joyous and happy that she 
 stopped to inquire his name. 
 
 At first the children looked abashed^ and 
 smiled without answering 3 but when Susan 
 repeated the question in her soft^ gentle voice, 
 the eldest of the party^ a sturdy boy, whose 
 hair was quite bleached with continual ex- 
 posure to the sun, said, ^^ He 's Betsy Moor's 
 boy, miss." 
 
 ^^ Oh, yes, I know him now ] they live near 
 the bridge, over the way," replied Susan : for 
 both she and her sisters were well acquainted 
 with every one in their own sweet village.
 
 OT HARDEN HALL. 
 
 Pursuing' her path a little farther^ it led 
 next throug'h a small fir cojise^ thickly studded 
 with larch^ then clothed with their first fresh 
 leaves : so green^ so bright^ so soft does the 
 opening" bud of the larch appear, before the 
 summer sun has darkened its hue^ that it 
 reminds one of youth's first innocency^ before 
 
 '^ ' T is blig'lited by the world's cold scorn." 
 
 The river here making- a sudden turn^ our 
 little Susan had to cross over it on the 
 labourers' bridge of a single plank; but she 
 did so with a firm^ steady step^ for it did 
 not occur to her that there could be any 
 danger; and^ throwing herself on the mossy 
 grass on the opposite side^ she loosened her 
 bonnet; and let the gentle spring breeze play 
 through her light curls. On hearing the vil- 
 lage clock strike twelve^ she jumped up^ and, 
 hastening on her way^ soon saw the chimneys 
 of Newstead Lodge appear amongst the trees. 
 The present proprietor had been making great 
 alterations ; he had bought it of his eldest 
 brother^ who^ having another fine place^ cared 
 ver}^ little for this, and had never resided
 
 HARDEN HALL. 39 
 
 there. Indeed^ till his brother took it off 
 his hands^ he had seriously thought of con- 
 verting* it into a farm-house^ — the fate of so 
 many old family mansions in those days. 
 Most of the old house had been pulled down; 
 but still there were sufficient remains to shew 
 that it had been once a mansion of conse- 
 quence. In the sixteenth century it had been 
 a manor house^ built in that peculiar style 
 we denominate Elizabethan^ by an ancestor of 
 the present proprietor^ Sir Roger de Stanlie, 
 a worthy country knight of those days^ who 
 lived and died on his own estate. The part 
 that was the least altered from what it had 
 been originally^ was the lodge^ which was a 
 very curious old buildings constructed at each 
 side of the gate with a watch-tower over the 
 gateway. This tower could only be entered 
 by means of a trap-door ; and though in the 
 time of Queen Bess^ secret hiding-places were 
 not so much needed^ this had been of great 
 service in the time of the Rebellion. Susan 
 never approached the house without dwelling 
 on the many wonderful escapes she had heard 
 related of people, from this same tower. To
 
 40 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 her it g-ave the place consiclerahle interest^ 
 that Charles II. had been allowed to sleep 
 there one nig'ht. The Stanlie of that day was 
 a warm supporter of the throne ; and^ by his 
 great zeal ag'ainst the Parliament^ was well 
 nig-h being" brought to the scaffold soon after 
 his beloved master. But the democrats, know- 
 ing* his influence in the country^ thought it 
 more advisable to conciliate him 3 and there- 
 fore allowed him to return to his own estate. 
 Deserted and dismantled he found it 3 the 
 fanatic Eoundheads had been there^ and 
 sacked the house. For months the old 
 knig'ht heard no tidings of his only son^ 
 the last surviving branch of his family. But 
 he was destined to have this happiness before 
 his grey hairs sank with sorrow into the 
 grave. The night was dark and stormy^ 
 when^ soon after he had retired to rest^ the 
 deep bark of his favourite bloodhounds aroused 
 him. Those were days when weapons of some 
 sort were never far from hand j and^ hastily 
 risings the old knight buckled on his sword^ 
 and descended to the court-yard. Amidst the 
 darkness and rain^ it was difficult to distin-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 41 
 
 giiish any object. He went straight to the 
 lodge gate^ about a hundred yards from the 
 house^ and there he fancied he could see two 
 men endeavouring* to force their way in ; they 
 seemed to be both heavily armed^ and dressed 
 alike. As Sir John approached^ he heard 
 them speaking' in quiet^ low tones. Great 
 was his joy on discovering- that it was his 
 son^ with his king^ in disguise^ flying" to the 
 nearest seaport^ to take ship for the continent. 
 The first words he spoke^ asking who it was^ 
 revealed to his fond son that it was his father. 
 Religiously was the incognito of the king kept 
 during the two days he dwelt there^ and the 
 thii'd morning saw them^ by sunrise^ far on 
 their journey towards the coast, and from 
 thence they escaped to the continent. Susan 
 heartily rejoiced in their safety; and eyed 
 the old tower with great partiality as she 
 approached the house. 
 
 Her friends were at home, busily engaged 
 in WTiting' notes. Maria jumped up, and, 
 putting a note into her hand, said, "Eead 
 it — read it.'' It was to Mrs. Selby, to say, 
 that on the 29th of the month, Mrs. Stanley
 
 4^ HARDEN HALL. 
 
 hoped to give a fete cJiampetrCy and that all 
 her young- friends from the rectory would 
 come to it. Susan's eyes g"listened with de- 
 lig-ht^ as she exclaimed^ ^^ How delig-htful ! we 
 shall he enchanted to come. I can answer 
 for mama." 
 
 '' Yes ; and we want you to come the night 
 before/^ said a dozen voices at once ; '' because 
 you can help us to arrang-e matters. Will you 
 come ?" 
 
 " I shall like it^ of all thing's^ if mama can 
 spare me. I shall be charmed !'' 
 
 ^^Well^ then^ I am sure it is a settled thing*/' 
 said Mrs. Stanley ; ^^ for when did Mrs. Selby 
 ever refuse her children anything- that she 
 thought g-ave them pleasure V^ 
 
 '^ Never^ indeed/' replied Susan^ much gra- 
 tified at this just praise of her mother. '^ It 
 will be Tuesday week ^ so I must come to you 
 on Monday." 
 
 And then the g-irls proceeded to discuss 
 their different dresses^ with g-reat g-lee. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley was occupied in reading- the 
 newspaper, when suddenly she exclaimed, 
 ^^ Why, how is this, Susan, that you did not 
 tell me of your sister's marriage?"
 
 HAKDEN HALL. 48 
 
 ^^ Because I never heard of it/' was the 
 laug'hing* reply. 
 
 ^^ Oh^ come^ there is no use saying* that^ for 
 here it is in black and white ^" and Mrs. 
 Stanley read : — ^ It is now g-enerally known in 
 the fashionable circles^ that the lovely and 
 accomplished Miss Selby^ grand-daughter of 
 the Honourable G. Lyndsay^ will be shortly 
 led to the hymeneal altar by Augustus Eead, 
 Esq._, nephew of Mr. and Lady Julia Read. 
 The young lady is heiress to a very consider- 
 able fortune.' " 
 
 ^^ What humbug- ! what arrant nonsense!" 
 exclaimed Susan. ^^ Who can have put an}-- 
 thing* so absurd^ so untrue^ in the Iforning 
 Post ? and an heiress besides : that is a 
 capital idea ! one amongst ten children to be 
 an heiress would be something- quite new !" 
 and she laughed so heartily that all her 
 young friends joined in chorus^ not ceasing- to 
 wonder w^ho could have put such a ridiculous 
 paragraph in the paper. '^ But papa will be 
 so annoyed/' continued Susan. ^^ W ho can this 
 Mr. Read be ? — But I forgot to tell 3'ou that 
 we heard from Catherine to-day : a very long-
 
 44 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 letter : she has been quite g-ay ah^eady^ and 
 sent her best love to j^ou all. And now^ adieu; 
 I must be ofF^ or mama will think me lost — • 
 besides^ I must g'o and tell her about the 
 paragraph. There is two o'clock striking-, 
 and I promised to be at home by that 
 time.'' 
 
 Maria immediately proposed walking* part 
 of the way back with Susan, and in a few 
 minutes they were proceeding* arm and arm 
 towards Tonning-ton. The two families lived so 
 near that a g-reat intimacy subsisted between 
 them. This was not occasioned by any pecu- 
 liar similarity of character, for, with the excep- 
 tion of their all being" very good-natured, there 
 were few points on which they thought alike : 
 perhaps, of all the daughters, the two that 
 resembled each other the least were Maria 
 and Susan. The latter was open and confid- 
 ing- almost to a fault, never dreaming* of love 
 and marriag'e. The former was fond of secrets 
 and mysteries, and never so well pleased as 
 when she had some wedding* to discuss. Ac- 
 cordingly, they had not proceeded far, before 
 Maria exclaimed : —
 
 HARDEN HALL. 45 
 
 ^^I wonder if it is true that Catherine 
 is going- to be married? I dare say it 
 is/' 
 
 ^^ Of course not/' interrupted Susan -, '^ don't 
 you think we should have heard of it ? Besides^ 
 I am quite sure that the utmost of her ac- 
 quaintance with this Mr. Eead is dancing 
 with him at his uncle's ball^ so it is quite 
 impossible." 
 
 '^ As to that^ there is nothing impossible in 
 the case. Partners in a quadrille have been 
 changed for partners for life ; and there is 
 such a thing- as love at first sio-ht: and 
 yet — " and here Maria hesitated^ for she 
 knew how differently her friend had been 
 taught to think upon these subjects from 
 herself 3 but she could not resist the tempta- 
 tion^ and so she continued^ — ^^ Mr. Eead is 
 hardly of high enough rank to captivate a 
 fine girl like Catherine at first sight." 
 
 ^^ His rank would have little to do with it^ 
 I should think/' said Susan. 
 
 '^ Why, is not rank the one thino- that o*irls 
 like ourselves most look to when Ave marry?" 
 said Maria 3 ^^ and does not a coronet in your
 
 46 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 eyes cover a multitude of sins ? I am sure 
 it does in mine.'^ 
 
 ^^And not one in mine/' replied Susan. 
 "Wliy^ would a coronet on one's carriage 
 add to one's happiness^ if the man who gave 
 it to you was disagreeable^ and unsuited to 
 you?" 
 
 ^^ At least^ you know^ the fact is^ my 
 
 dear Susan^ you are yet too young to know 
 the full value of it. But^ believe me, if there 
 were two Venuses in shape and form^ and two 
 Minervas in wisdom^ equal in every other 
 respect^ but one a countess and the other 
 a plain Mrs. Nobody^ in the eyes of the 
 world^ that countess would be twice as much 
 valued as her rival.'^ 
 
 ^^That may be very true/' replied Susan, 
 " of some people ; but stilly I don't see that, 
 because the world thought the countess best 
 off, it at all follows that she was so." 
 
 '^ Well, at least take my advice, Susan, on 
 one point \ do not refuse a good match merely 
 because you do not like the man. You may 
 like him afterwards \ and when he is married 
 to another, you will be sorry for it. And as
 
 HARDEN HALL. 47 
 
 to being' over head and ears in love^ wliy^ I 
 think^ between you and me^ the thing- is 
 quite absurd ; so I shall expect to hear more 
 of Mr. Eead. JVous verrons /^ and she looked 
 archly at Susan^ who laug'hed g'ood-humour- 
 edly_, thoug'h rather annoyed by these remarks. 
 She kncAV that Maria alluded to an early 
 offer that had been made to her^ and which_, at 
 sixteen^ Maria had^ to use her own expression^ 
 thrown away. But the history had been so 
 often told to Susan^ — who being- a g'ood listener^ 
 was g-enerally favoured by all her friends 
 Tvith their private g-riefs — that she did not wish 
 to hear it all over ag'ain^ and was not sorry to 
 chang'e the subject : so they talked of new 
 songs^ of drawings^ and fixed on a very pretty 
 spot for sketching- the church at Tonning'ton ; 
 the last mile appeared shorter than usual^ and 
 they very soon arrived at home. Maria then 
 proposed to return^ but Susan insisted on her 
 going- in to see her mother ] and after a little 
 lively chat^ she rose and took her leave of 
 them.
 
 48 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTEH Y. 
 
 There is g-enerally^ in every large family, 
 some particular family feature ; and thoug^h it 
 must be described by negatives^ the one which 
 the Selbys shone in was a perfect freedom 
 from all coquetry and flirting- : they none of 
 them ever thought it beneath them to let it be 
 publicly known that weeks and months often 
 passed without their seeing^ scarcely hearing 
 of '^ an eligible young man." 
 
 With the family party at Newstead^ it was 
 widely different^ they thought every week 
 that did not bring* some youth to their door 
 a dead loss, Maria was really an accom- 
 plished^ clever girl ) she drew well^ and sang 
 sweetly^ and ought to have found occupation 
 in herself^ but such a thing she never dreamt 
 of: she was entirely dependent on society; 
 and as they lived the whole year in a country
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 49 
 
 villag'e^ with the occasional change of visiting 
 at other countr}^ houses^ she had long- made 
 up her mind to embrace the first opportunity 
 she met with of changing- her name. Her 
 mother was an easy^ g'ood-natured^ kind- 
 hearted woman ; there was no kindness she 
 would not have performed for a living* soul ; 
 but^ like the best of us^ she had her foibles. 
 Her predominant weakness was a very natural 
 one^ — a devout admiration of beauty in the 
 other sex. With a most indulg-ent husband, 
 and affectionate children^ a g-ood house^ and 
 complete establishment — the last being- by no 
 means unimportant in her eyes — she might have 
 been most thoroughly happy^ had she not been 
 literally dying' to see her daug*hters married. 
 Charlotte, the eldest, was nine and twenty : a 
 very charming person; and though fully 
 appreciated by her mother, yet sometimes that 
 mother could not conceal her great, her over- 
 powering* wish to see each of her dear girls at 
 the head of a fine establishment. Still, she 
 had nearly given up all hope of having Char- 
 lotte settled. Her manner, generally, was 
 so cold and distant, that it was only those 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 60 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 who were admitted to her confidence^ who 
 esteemed her as she deserved. By her own 
 sex she was adored 3 and in her own family 
 was reckoned a perfect Minerva. Nothing- 
 could be settled^ from the choosing* a bonnet 
 ribbon^ to the most important affair^ without 
 her help ^ and now she was called here^ there^ 
 and everywhere^ to make some preparation for 
 this grand fete. 
 
 Mr. Stanley_, like a wise man^ the moment 
 after the scheme had been proposed and he had 
 g-iven his consent to his delig-hted children^ 
 had set off for London_, and did not intend 
 returning* till the very day : by so doing-^ 
 as Mrs. Stanley quietly remarked^ giving a 
 strong" proof of g-enuine g-ood sense ', because 
 everybody knew how much g-entlemen were in 
 the way when ladies wished to have any little 
 gaiety. The part that interested the lady of 
 the house most^ was writing to four young* 
 men^ to beg- they would honour her with their 
 company. All the preparations were made on 
 the grandest scale : — but we must not forestall 
 the anticipated pleasure by taking a glance 
 behind the scenes.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 51 
 
 Besides^ it is now time to return to Lady- 
 Julia Eead^ who we left well pleased at having- 
 sent Miss Selby a bouquet. The following* 
 mornino- found her ao-ain in the same attire in 
 her boudoir at the end of the g-aller}^^ anxiously 
 waiting- for the arrival of her nephew. Eleven, 
 twelve^ one^ and two o'clock had struck^ and 
 still the nephew came not : her rage and fury 
 were momentarily increasing'^ when the door 
 opened^ and he burst in^ saying*^ — 
 
 ^^ My father is dying-^ and I must be off to 
 Oakham this moment : the carriao-e is now 
 preparing* for me." 
 
 '^ Nonsense ! your father will live long- 
 enough to make you a poorer man than 
 you are noAv; so take ni}^ advice^ and do 
 not g*o." 
 
 ^^ But^ here is a letter from my poor broken- 
 hearted mother^ entreating- me to g'o down to 
 her instantly." 
 
 ^^ One word for all/' replied Lady Julia, au- 
 thoritatively. '^ If you choose to leave town 
 in the very heig-ht of the season, merely to see 
 an old father, I have done with you for ever ; 
 and shall certainly prevail on your uncle to 
 
 E 2 
 
 LIBWWY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OP "rfwot^
 
 62 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 make somebody with more spirit and pluck 
 than you seem to have^ his heir." 
 
 ^^ But^ Lady Julia/^ interrupted her terrified 
 nephew. 
 
 ^^ There are no ^ huts' in the case^ sir : here 
 I have been waiting* for you these three hours, 
 to tell you how to set to work to catch the 
 richest heiress in town 3 and the only thing" 
 you can think of is^ a stupid^ old father^ who 
 has g*ot throug-h half a dozen attacks of g'out 
 already^ and will^ in all probability^ weather 
 this one also. But you can choose for your- 
 self^ Mr. Read. Either g*ive up this foolish 
 journey^ write a penitent letter to your father, 
 
 and remain here with me, or : but there 
 
 can be no doubt which you will do. Can you 
 possibly doubt my affection for you ?" Here 
 Lady Julia smoothed her ruffled brow ; and, 
 laying- her arm on his shoulder, continued, 
 in a g-entler tone, ^^ Stay with me, dearest 
 boy. I am your best friend." Then, seeing- 
 him still waver, she rang- the bell : ^^ Desire 
 John to tell Mr. Bead's servant, he does not 
 want the carriag-e this morning-." The servant 
 bowed, and left the room. ^^ Now, then, sit
 
 HARDEN HALL. 5S 
 
 down there/' said Lady Jiilia^ ^' and ^\Tite a 
 very touching*^ rhodomontading- letter to your 
 venerable parent^ which I will send.'^ 
 
 The weak^ culpable^ young* man did as he 
 was desired : and yet^ as he wrote^ his con- 
 science smote him^ that he was acting' very 
 undutifully by his poor father. He threw 
 down the pen^ exclaiming*, — 
 
 ^^ By Jove ! I must g'o." 
 
 But Lady Julia had him too completely 
 under her thumb to mind these little bursts 
 of feeling' ; so, placing* the lighted candle 
 before him, she waited till she saAV him sig*n 
 his name to what he knew full well was but 
 one uninterrupted tissue of lies, and g-ave it 
 to Lady Julia. This was all she wanted. She 
 felt how completely he was in her power ; and, 
 immediately changing' her voice and manner, 
 she said, — 
 
 ^' Well, how did you manage last night at 
 the Opera? — was the fair one gracious or 
 cruel ?^' 
 
 Her brow darkened when she heard he 
 had not been able to exchano-e half a dozen 
 words with Miss Selby; but when her nephew
 
 54 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 went on to say how much the sig'ht of Lord 
 Fleetwood seemed to move her^ her face 
 brig'htened^ and^, merely saying-^ ^^ Nous ver- 
 rons a quoi cela est bon/^ she g'ot up^ and took 
 from a packet of letters and papers one little 
 parag-raph^ which she put into Mr. Eead's 
 astonished hands. Perhaps you can g'uess^ 
 g-entle reader^ what it was that made him 
 start back with amazement : it was the same 
 parag"raph that had excited so much surprise 
 and astonishment at Newstead Lodg-e. 
 
 ^^And in 3^esterday's paper V^ he said^ ^' that 
 was before we had settled anything- about the 
 heiress — was it not ?" 
 
 ^^ Before you had settled anything- ; but 
 not before the eyes of the world had done 
 so. You see you must be under my g-uid- 
 ance. Without mey you would never have 
 seen this parag-raph^ and mig-ht^ perhaps^ have 
 been even now paying- court to some other fair 
 one : or doing- what you were so anxious to do 
 just now — g-iving- lemonade to a sick^ old 
 man.'' 
 
 ^^ Well^ if every one thinks this poor^ little 
 soul so smitten with me^ it would be cruel
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 55 
 
 not to give her a chance/^ replied the apt 
 scholar^ with a foolish laug-h : '^ but what am 
 I to do next? for Miss Selby dines quietly 
 at home this evening*." 
 
 ^^ Does she ? nothing could be more for- 
 tunate. You shall take a note from me to her, 
 beg'g'ing- her to accompany us to Almack's." 
 
 On the plea of being* cousins^ Lady Anne 
 Lyndsay accepted the invitation for her 
 g-randchild. 
 
 At the appointed time^ Lady Julia called 
 for Miss Selby; and^ as they went towards 
 Almack's^ had an opportunity of impressing- on 
 the mind of Catherine what an advantao;e it 
 was to be g'oing- with her and her nephew. 
 ^^No young- lady ever dances in town/' said 
 Lady Julia^ ^^ who is not evidently much 
 soug'ht after : so you see^ my dear^ you are 
 very fortunate in g'oing' with me^ for my 
 nephew will be proud to dance with you." 
 
 The carriage stopped, and Lady Julia had 
 no more time to throw out hints. Catherine 
 Selby merely settled in her own mind that 
 she was a very odd person ] and as to having 
 a young man dangling after her, she did not
 
 56 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 see the smallest pleasure or advantag-e in any- 
 thing- of the kind. 
 
 As a matter of course^ Mr. Read asked 
 Catherine's hand for the first dance ; but ^reat 
 was her astonishment when he said^ ^^ I 
 understood from my aunt that I may claim 
 the honour of dancing" every dance with you." 
 
 ^^Lady Julia has made some strang-e mis- 
 take/' replied Catherine^ composedly: though 
 her heightened colour showed but too plainly 
 how annoyed she was. ^^ Lady Julia/ she 
 continued; '^ can never have supposed me 
 capable of flirting in such a way with any one." 
 
 Again was Mr. Eead thrown completely 
 back on his own resources : but the music of 
 the last quadrille happening then to begin^ 
 he thought it advisable to change the sub- 
 ject; and said^ '^ How pretty the music is to- 
 night; Miss Selby!" 
 
 ic Very/' she replied ; " I should like ex- 
 tremely to know the name of this set^ — it is 
 quite new to me." 
 
 " It shall be my business to inquire^ and I 
 have no doubt we can easily procure it for 
 you."
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 57 
 
 The quadrille being* over^ Catherine pro- 
 posed to return to that part of the room 
 where she had left Lady Julia Eead ', but 
 there was no such person to be seen any- 
 where. Thinking" they might have passed 
 her in the crowd^ they hurried back ag-ain ; 
 but the room was so fall that they could not 
 move quickly^ and before they had gone 
 twenty steps^ the orchestra struck up a set of 
 waltzes. 
 
 ^^ Oh^ I love waltzing!" exclaimed Mr. 
 Eead 5 ^^ do_, Miss Selby^ as it seems in vain 
 to look for my aunt^ — do pray take one turn 
 with me." 
 
 ^' I would much rather retm'n to Lady Julia^ 
 if I could find her." 
 
 ^^But you see it is quite useless/' replied 
 her persevering partner. 
 
 '^ Well^ then^ I Tvill take one turn/' replied 
 Catherine. 
 
 The waltz being ended^ the same difficulty 
 
 occurred of squeezing throug-h the crowd whilst 
 
 looking for Lady Julia^ and the search proved 
 
 all}^ unsuccessful : this was the case for 
 
 three successive dances. Catherine resolutely
 
 t»6 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 announced her intention of standing* stilly and 
 was beg-inning' to g'et extremely irritated and 
 annoyed with her chaperone^ when the artful 
 woman made her appearance. She protested 
 she had remained stationary the whole even- 
 ing*^ and expressed much surprise that Cathe- 
 rine had not returned to her at once ; while 
 to Miss Selby's reiterated assurances^ how 
 anxiously she had been wishing to rejoin her, 
 her only answer was, — ^^ My dear, I suppose 
 you were much better eng-aged, and well 
 amused.'^ 
 
 Her ladyship herself was in hig*h g-ood 
 humour, because all her plans had succeeded 
 so well. She had been pluming herself all the 
 afternoon at having- so easily deceived her 
 nephew about the paragraph in the Morning 
 Post: for she felt quite sure he had no sus- 
 picion whatever that she was the author of it. 
 And now, this evening", she had once or twice 
 been asked if her nephew was eng-ag-ed to 
 Miss Selby; which report w^as strong-ly cor- 
 roborated in every one's eyes by their dancing* 
 tog-ether : or rather, by their being seen stand- 
 ing about together between the dances.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 59 
 
 Lady Julia^ tliinking* it ^\-ould not do to 
 wearv out Miss Selbv the first evenino- bea-o-ed 
 to be allowed to introduce Colonel Selwyn to 
 her. Catherine bowed assent^ and the next 
 minute she found herself moving* ofi' to join in a 
 quadrille with the g-allant colonel. He was^ 
 in truth, a gallant man, and looked the 
 soldier who had braved a thousand dano-ers. 
 He was not reo-ularlv handsome, but alto- 
 gether a striking- looking* person ; much above 
 the common height, T^dth a figure in beautifLil 
 proportion. His hair was dark, as were his 
 eye-lashes, which fringed a pair of the black- 
 est eyes: good teeth, and a pleasant voice, 
 made him altoo-ether a very ao*reeable com- 
 panion. He had seen much, and could talk 
 well, — perhaps, of all talents the rarest ; 
 and after having* been doomed to listen to 
 the insipid conversation of Mr. Eead for a 
 whole hour, it was an unspeakable relief to 
 hear a few words of sense. 
 
 Colonel Selwyn had so often heard it re- 
 marked by really sensible women, how very 
 common-place and dull officers usually ap- 
 peared in a ball-room — talking only of the
 
 60 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 merest everyday occurrence — the weather^ the 
 floor^ the musiC; the lig-hts^ and other topics 
 common to this st^de of amusing- conversation 
 — that he studiously avoided everything* of 
 the kind. They had not been dancing* lon^, 
 when Catherine asked her partner if he was 
 acquainted with Mr. Lyndsa}^; adding*^ that 
 she was staying- with him^ and that she 
 fancied he had heard her g-randfather men- 
 tion Colonel Selwyn. 
 
 ^^ Are you^ then^ the daug-hter of that 
 lovely Mrs. Selhy who some twenty years 
 ag*o had all London after her ?" 
 
 Catherine replied she was. 
 
 '^ Strang-e ! '^ he beg-an^ as if partly musing*^ 
 ^^ strang-e that the first time I have danced 
 in Eng-land for many years should be with 
 Grace Lyndsay's daug-hter." 
 
 ^^What^ did you then know my mother?" 
 cried Catherine. 
 
 ^^ Oh ! most intimately ; and once had hopes 
 that it mig-ht have pleased Heaven to realize 
 my brightest dreams. But your father step- 
 ped in^ and no woman^ Miss Selby^ could 
 resist one so charming- : he was goodness
 
 HARDEN H.1LL. 61 
 
 itself. But here we have g-ot to the end of 
 our quadrille^ and I must not detain you any 
 longer^ as Mr. Eead .will think himself 
 ag-g'rieved/^ he continued^ smiling- kindl}' on 
 his fair youn^ partner. 
 
 ^^ Oh ! pray introduce me to another part- 
 ner^ Colonel Selwyn. I have heen pestered 
 the whole evening* hy Mr. Read^ and really 
 cannot endure another dance with him.'^ 
 
 ^^Oh! fie for shame!" returned her part- 
 ner ; ^^ you do not expect me to believe this ; 
 so do not take the trouble to abuse him who, 
 if report speaks true^ is not so indiiferent to 
 you as you would have me imagine.'^ 
 
 ^' I cannot make it out/' replied Catherine, 
 looking- very much distressed • ^' I only came 
 to town last week, and now people seem to 
 settle, without consulting* me, that I must be 
 desperately enamoured Avith Mr. Eead. What 
 it means, I do not know ] and I appeal to you. 
 Colonel Selwyn, as an old friend of my 
 mother's, to tell me the rights of the story.'' 
 
 " Willingly," he replied ; " but let us move 
 off a little, and get some tea." He w^as too 
 happy to have an opportunity of talking- more
 
 62 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 with a young" lady who had already capti- 
 vated him not a little. 
 
 The g'lory of Almack's was then at its acmey 
 and Catherine, in the most animated manner^ ex- 
 pressed her admiration of the room^ and the bril- 
 liancy reflected over every part h3^the numerous 
 mirrors : it looked to her altoo^ether like a scene 
 in the Arabian Nig'hts. But she was annoyed 
 and vexed; and hurried rapidly into the tea- 
 room. They were soon lost to the eye of Lady 
 Julia and her hopeful nephew^ who muttered to 
 himself as he saw Miss Selby move away^ 
 ^^ By Jove ! she is a fine girl." His aunt 
 smiled to see how easily she could make him 
 turn his thoughts to any one she pleased: 
 for this was not the first time she had tried 
 to make him captivate some fair one. Mean- 
 while^ every step Catherine and her partner 
 took together seemed to make them more at 
 their ease with one another : but she was too 
 much excited by all the hints she heard 
 dropped as they passed along^ of her being 
 ^^ la fia,nc6e/' ^^ the bride elect^" &c. &c._, to 
 allow Colonel Selwyn to proceed far without 
 giving her an explanation. Her indignation
 
 HARDEN HALL. 63 
 
 and astonishment were excessive^ when he told 
 her that a parag-rajih in the Morning Post, 
 said^ in so many words^ that it was understood 
 she would shortly be united to Mr. Eead. 
 
 ^^And who dared/^ she exclaimed^ indig-- 
 nantly^ ^' to put such a paragraph into the 
 paper? If I had really been an heiress^ it 
 might have given people more scope to do 
 ill-natui^ed things 3 but I should have thought 
 
 'A penniless lasS; with a long* pedigree/ 
 like myself, quite beneath other people's 
 notice. But/' she continued^ ^^ are you sure 
 it was in the paper^ or are you laughing- at 
 me?'' 
 
 ^' Far be it from me/' he replied^ ^^ to joke 
 with you^ Miss Selby^ on such an unfortunate 
 report. I say unfortunate^ because now every 
 one will call you a flirty if you do but look at 
 any other young man. But this conceited 
 young Bead^ I suspect^ must have inserted 
 the paragraph himself 3 or it is his odious 
 aunt's doing'. But I beg' your pardon^ I 
 believe they are related to you." 
 
 " Oh ! pra}' go on : do not let our relation- 
 ship — which I rejoice to say is very dis-
 
 M HARDEN HALL. 
 
 tant — be any hindrance to your saying- any- 
 thing of them. I never saw either of 
 them till two or three nig-hts ag-o^ so that 
 we cannot have any g-reat affection for each 
 other ; and as for this odious nephew^ I never 
 heard that there was such a being* in ex- 
 istence till the other day. Nor shall I see 
 any more of them^ if Lady Julia means to 
 persecute me in such a way." 
 
 ^^Well^ then/^ continued Colonel Selwyn^ 
 ^^ I must tell you what I heard young* Mr. 
 Read say to a friend about an hour ag-o: 
 ^ You seC; at last I shall catch an heiress : but 
 I have to move heaven and earth to make her 
 marry me.' These words^ I have no doubt^ 
 applied to you^ Miss Selby : but forg-ive me^ I 
 give you pain." She waved her hand for him 
 to continue; and he did so^ sayings ^^ It is settled 
 between the aunt and nephew that you are 
 to appear everywhere with them^ and they 
 will both circulate the absurd report that you 
 are desperately smitten with him : in fact, 
 they intend to get you so entangled with 
 their machinations^ that you will be obliged 
 in honour to marry him."
 
 HARDEN HALL. 65 
 
 '* Oh ! how shocking-^ Colonel Sehvyn^ how 
 dreadful ! I had better return mstantly to 
 the country. London^ where I had antici- 
 pated so much pleasure^ will now be hateful 
 to me/' 
 
 '^ If I mig'ht presume to advise you^ Miss 
 Selby^ I should say^ let not any of the de- 
 testable family of Read know you have dis- 
 covered their plots. Steadily refuse to g"0 
 out with Lady Julia Eead^ on the plea of 
 never leaving* your gTandmother; to whom 
 tell everything- that has occurred. You see/' 
 he continued^ smiling'^ ^^I take upon myself 
 the privilege of an old friend : for^ perhaps, 
 3'ou are not aware that I have often seen you 
 before, when you were a child." 
 
 Catherine did, indeed, feel most grateful to 
 this amiable man for giving* her such good 
 advice ; and the more she reflected upon it, the 
 more absurd the report appeared to her : so 
 that she began to think it would be better to 
 let the whole appear a joke, and not trouble 
 herself about it. 
 
 Lady Julia Read soon after, to Catherine's 
 great delight, announced her intention of re- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 W HARDEN HALL. 
 
 turning' home. She rejoiced to find herself 
 free from this odious woman ] for all the an- 
 noyance she had experienced that evening* she 
 felt sure was occasioned by her.
 
 HARDEN HALL ft? 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 The day had been unusually hot and oppres- 
 sive for the time of year — for my I'eaders 
 must remember it was only May — heavy 
 masses of clouds had been rolling- towards the 
 west all day^ and every leaf was motionless. 
 The cattle looked oppressed with the heat, 
 and stood listlessly about the fields, when 
 towards evening- some heavy claps of thunder 
 were heard solemnly rolling- in the distance, 
 and everything- betokened an approaching* 
 storm. Gradually the thunder became nearer, 
 and the lightning- more vivid, but no rain fell. 
 Doubtless there were many watching- the 
 storm, but those with whom our tale had to 
 do watched it with intense feeling- : they were 
 expecting an only son, and thought but of him. 
 It was in a small bed-room, looking- to the 
 
 east, with the shutters h-alf-closed, that a 
 
 F 2
 
 68 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 womaii^ past the middle ag-e of life^ was seen 
 wring'ino- her hands : tears of ag*ony_, wrung" 
 from her inmost soul by intense sorrow^ 
 followed each other in quick succession 
 down her care-worn cheek • yet no complaint 
 fell from her lips. She seemed b}' her attitude 
 to be praying- — to be imploring- help from One 
 who never forsakes His children^ but sends 
 comfort even under the greatest misfortunes. 
 
 The windows were open_, and roses] were 
 peeping' in^ as if by their brig'htness to mock 
 the colourless cheek of one Avho in her early 
 days had been called the ^^ black rose." She 
 evidently was absorbed in prayer^ when a faint 
 gToan from the further side of the room re- 
 called her to the bed-side. Here^ indeed^ was 
 a heart-rending- sight. On the bed lay a man, 
 who though naturally of a strong frame, was 
 so reduced by constant suffering and disease 
 to such a state of Aveakness, that you could 
 almost see through the livid hand that was 
 raised to hold the throbbing temples. 
 
 ^^ Is he come ?" he gently murmured. 
 
 Tears were the only reply of the afflicted 
 mother : but still, as if to cheer his dying
 
 HARDEN HALL. 69 
 
 moments^ she said^ ^^ The storm may have 
 delayed him ; there are few horses Avoukl 
 stand such vivid lig'htning-^'' and a tremendous 
 burst of thunder^ apparently immediately above 
 them^ verified the truth of her words. 
 
 The invalid shook his head^ while a mourn- 
 ful smile came over his pale face^ as he mur- 
 mured^ ^^Thy will be done!'^ Apparently 
 exhausted with the effort of speaking- these 
 few words_, he fell back on the pillow. His 
 g-entle wife rubbed his cold hand within her 
 own^ and implored blessing's on his ag-ed head. 
 Still she could not shut her eves to the danofer 
 he was in ', medical advice had been procured 
 the day before^ but the ph^'sician^ though 
 clever^ had at once declared it quite be3^ond his 
 power to do anything- to save poor Mr. Eead. 
 Yes^ it was indeed this father^ who days 
 before had directed his faithful wife to write 
 to their undutiful son to come and close his 
 dying- eyes. She had used every entreaty, 
 ever}^ word that the prudent father had dic- 
 tated^ but apparently without success : still 
 he would not g-ive up all hope of seeing* 
 him. A dying" father's request^ he thoug*ht, 
 was but rarely neglected. It was more on
 
 70 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 his wife's account than his own^ that he so 
 ardently wished for his son's arrival ; for at 
 his death she would stand alone^ to buffet in 
 her old ag^e against the storms and adversities 
 that are but too often the widows lot : hard 
 enoug-h for the young* and strongs to bear_, 
 but which seldom fail to bring- the hoary 
 head with sorrow to the g-rave. 
 
 The nig'ht gradually came on • all trace of 
 the storm was g*one^ and the stars shone forth 
 in all their glory^ like good spirits prepared 
 to receive and take to their eternal rest the 
 souls of those who were passing away. Mrs. 
 Read could not but be struck with the change 
 that the last few hours had wrought in him Avho 
 had shared her every joy^ her every grief^ for 
 the last thirty ^^ears ; and bitterly was her 
 cup of sorrow increased by the thought that 
 a son's neglect and indifference had broken the 
 firm spirit of one whose place no one could sup- 
 ply. But when in the middle of the night she 
 saw her husband dozing^ a little^ she trusted^ 
 she hoped — who does not hope even against 
 hope?— that he would awake refreshed. She 
 quietly prepared to watch by his side till the 
 morning.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 71 
 
 ^^ Oh^ my cliild^ my child ! " slie mentally 
 exclaimed , ^^ if you only knew how much my 
 future happiness depends on your coming' to us 
 at this moment^ nothing- would keep you away. 
 You used to be fond of your mother; and^ 
 as a child_j declare you would never leave her : 
 but those brig'ht days are g*one^ and corrupted 
 by evil example — without strength of mind and 
 firmness of character to resist — you are made 
 the tool of a bad^ desig-ning* woman." 
 
 These^ and reflections bitter as these^ effec- 
 tually drove all sleep from her eyes. Of all 
 the dreadful trials and sorrows that are en- 
 countered in this world^ none can equal in 
 intensity the pang- that is g'iven by an unduti- 
 ful child to a parent's heart. That one who in 
 infancy and childhood was quite dependent on 
 a parent's care^ should in manhood cease to 
 think of those kind parents^ would be almost 
 beyond belief^ did we not but too often see 
 examples of it around us. 
 
 Towards morning-^ worn out by continual 
 watching-^ Mrs. Eead slept for a few hours^ but 
 was soon awakened by the servant giving- her a 
 letter. Her hand trembled so violently that she
 
 72 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 could scarcely open it^ and then bitter and 
 cruel was her disappointment to find that it 
 came from her only son: ^^he reg-retted 
 extremely he could not tear himself away 
 from his gaiety and friends^ but he trusted 
 in a few days to receive from his mother 
 a better account^ and beg'g-ed to hear ag*ain." 
 
 The slight noise made by opening- the door 
 aroused the sick man^ and he started up^ 
 exclaiming*^ '' Is Augustus come ?" 
 
 Mrs. Eead's heart beat nearly to bursting 
 as she was obliged to reply^ ^^ He has delayed 
 his comings my dearest husband. He thinks, 
 he trusts, my fears are groundless ) and hopes 
 soon to hear a better account." 
 
 ^^Do not let this deceive you, my love/' 
 said he, trying to take her hand in his : but 
 his hand was too feeble, and he could not lift 
 it from the bed. ^^ I feel," he continued, ^^ that 
 in a few short hours I shall have passed away. 
 But it is only a separation for a few, a very 
 few years, and then we .khall meet again never 
 to be parted. Oh, my son," he added, ^^may 
 your last hours never be embittered by the 
 neglect of an undutiful child ! may you never
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 73 
 
 know what a father feels when^ on his death- 
 bed^ he leaves his widow alone in the wide 
 world I" It was some minutes before he 
 could recover himself^ and then he said^ in a 
 calmer tone^ '^ Send^ my love^ to Mr. Fisher ; 
 I must receive the sacrament ag*ain before I 
 die.^^ 
 
 Calmly Mrs. Read g-ave orders to this effect^ 
 and waited in silence the arrival of the holy 
 man who would comfort and g-ive them support 
 in this trving" hour : for he was one who fol- 
 lowed his Divine Master^s example^ and went 
 about doing- g-ood. 
 
 The moment he arrived^ he prepared to 
 administer the holy sacrament^ for he saw that 
 life was ebbing* fast. Scarcely had he finished^ 
 when the dyino* man said : — 
 
 ^^ I commend my A\dfe to your care. Watch^ 
 I entreat you^ over her declining* years^ and 
 see that she is comfortably settled in this 
 cottag*e till the day of her death. And now^ 
 farewell^ my dear friend ! Leave us alone to- 
 g*ether for the last few moments of my life." 
 
 The clerg*yman silently prepared to depart^ 
 deeply overcome at this sad sig'ht. There
 
 74 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 is something' peculiarly solemn in the chamber 
 
 of a dying- person : the subdued lig'ht^ — the 
 
 ghastly paleness of those Avho are nursings the 
 
 sick, and the still more livid hue of the sick 
 
 themselves : the thouo-ht that in a few hours 
 
 that body, now sensible to all around, will be 
 
 cold and lifeless : — oh ! if these are not 
 
 thoughts to make us all tremble, and strive to 
 
 do good in our generation, woe be to us ! 
 ***** 
 
 A veil must be drawn over the last scene 
 between this afflicted pair : the only words 
 which transpired were the dying man's parting 
 blessing and entire forgiveness of his guilty 
 son. It was all over : life was extinct ; and 
 all that remained on earth of that once fine 
 and manly form, was a cold corpse. 
 
 Mrs. Bead was stunned with grief: the 
 servants carried her into an adjoining* room. 
 Everything was left to Mr. Fisher's direction ; 
 and charitably and kindly he arranged all. 
 The unhappy widow remained insensible for 
 ten days, and then began to feel, in all its 
 acuteness, the terrible loss she had sustained. 
 
 But what was her son about all this time,
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 75 
 
 during- the sad events we have had to record 
 in this chapter ? — He was flirting* and dancing- 
 at AlmacFs^ totally reg-ardless of everything* 
 belonging to his parents. Two days after this^ 
 he received a letter from Mr. Fisher^ g'i^'ii^g' 
 all the details, savino- he had arrano-ed that 
 the funeral should take place on the following* 
 Fiiday^ and wishing* to know if Mr. Eead 
 would attend. After describing* the state his 
 mother Avas in^ he made some very strong* 
 reflections and remonstrances on his undu- 
 tiful conduct^ and beg-g-ed liim^ without fail^ to 
 come and see his mother. 
 
 Mr. Eead burst into a flood of tears. ^^ I 
 had no idea that he was so ill : that he would 
 have o'one so soon. I would have run down if 
 I could have foreseen this ] indeed I should^ if 
 it had not been for my aunt. How my poor 
 mother will miss him ! It was very unlucky 
 that I was so particularly engaged when 
 they ^\Toie to me^ or I certainly would have 
 gone. I do not think that I can be of an}' 
 use to my poor mother now. How she will 
 miss him ! — I vrish I had not so many en- 
 gagements on ni}' list. I do not see how I
 
 76 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 can put them off: it would look so strang-e^ 
 and^ what's more^ perhaps^ mar all my pros- 
 pects. At all events^ I will take a ride in the 
 park to-day^ as the poor old gentleman's death 
 cannot be known yet.''
 
 HARDEN HALL. 77 
 
 CHAPTEE YII. 
 
 Lady Anne Lyndsay was not surprised to 
 hear of the favourable impression Colonel 
 Selwyn had made on her g-rand-daughter^ and 
 secretly wished it mig-lit^ to use a homely 
 phrase^ '^ lead to something-." 
 
 The next week they were eng-ag-ed out every 
 nig-htj and at every place Catherine looked 
 about most eagerly to see if Colonel Selwyn 
 was of the party : but he was never to be 
 seen. When her thoughts were quite diverted 
 from him by the dangerous illness of her 
 g-randmother^ she reproached herself over and 
 over again with being- the cause^ by having* 
 disturbed the usual quiet routine of her life ; 
 but these fears were soon happily removed^ for 
 by the aid of the best medical advice^ one week 
 saw her ladyship sufficiently recovered to be 
 able to move down stairs. She would not
 
 78 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 think of allowing' that lier illness was caused 
 b}' her g'oing out with her favourite g'rand- 
 daug-hter^ and^ as a proof of it^ said they 
 must prepare for the drawing'-room which was 
 to take place the following* w^eek. 
 
 Catherine Selby^ in common with most of 
 her sex^ or at least the junior members^ enter- 
 tained the most enthusiastic feelings toward the 
 youthful Queen who had lately ascended the 
 throne. She had^ from earliest infancy^ been 
 taug'ht to revere the anointed Sovereig-n of the 
 British Isles ; and^ her mother having' been a 
 personal friend of the Queen's^ she had the 
 greatest long-ing* to see her. It was therefore 
 with much alacrity^ that she prepared for the 
 approaching" drawing'-room: she ran in and 
 out of her room fifty times to look at the 
 beautiful train prepared for her. It was rich 
 •white satin^ looped up with white roses. 
 
 Her pleasure was like that of a child with a 
 new toy; and her gTandmother was equally 
 pleased at seeing- her so happy: it reminded 
 her of the time when she introduced Cathe- 
 rine's mother^ who also was pleased with 
 everything" and everybody.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 79 
 
 The important day arrived^ and Catherine 
 got throug-h the aAvful ceremony very well ; 
 for directly the Queen saw her^ she smiled 
 so graciously that Catherine felt quite encou- 
 rag-ed^, and was even almost sorry when it 
 was over. Catherine long-ed to hear Her 
 Majesty speak^ — for the fame of her silver- 
 toned voice was spread far and wide ; hut she 
 was destined to he disappointed. 
 
 The next da}'^ Lady Anne and her g-rand- 
 daug'hter were summoned to the palace to a 
 private audience ; and gTcat was Catherine's 
 surprise^ when the Queen observed^ in the 
 kindest mannner possible^ that she wished to 
 have an interview with her in order to ascer- 
 tain whether it would he ag'reeahle to her to 
 accept the appointment of maid of honour. 
 So g^reat was her astonishment_, she could 
 scarcely reply^ hut at leng'th stammered out 
 somethinof about heinof deliofhted. 
 
 ^^Yery well^ then/' replied her Majesty^ 
 
 ^^ you can succeed Miss ^ who is to he 
 
 married next week. You will not always^ 
 I trust/' she said^ smiling* at Catherine, 
 
 appear so frightened at me 3 for I want to 
 
 a
 
 80 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 have some one near me who Avill love me for 
 my own sake^ and not merely because I hap- 
 pen to be a queen." 
 
 Catherine did not reply^ but thoug-ht 
 whether it Avas possible for any one to see a 
 young- g-irl^ hardly nineteen^ placed in such an 
 elevated position^ without feeling* the g'reatest 
 interest for her. Her thoug'hts shone in her 
 dark eyes^ and the Queen^ guessing- them, 
 said^ — ^^ I need not ask anything* more. I hope 
 I see that you already begin to love me ;'' and 
 she held out her hand for Catherine to kiss. 
 
 As they returned home^ Lady Anne warmly 
 cong-ratulated Catherine on her g-ood fortune, 
 saying"^ it had always been the heig-ht of her 
 ambition to see her g*rand-daug-hter in her 
 Majesty's household. 
 
 The appointment was soon made public, 
 and excited the usual remarks of envious and 
 ill-natured people, and the wonder that some 
 one else had not been the favoured one. Not 
 a few were uttered by Lady Julia Bead ; who 
 saw that Catherine would be now taken com- 
 pletely out of her reach, unless her nephew 
 could make up his mind to propose at once :
 
 HARDEN HALL. 81 
 
 for It never seemed to occur to her that aiiv o-irl 
 would refuse ten thousand a year in jorospectu. 
 But thoug"h Mr. Eead had a tolerable share 
 of assurance^ Miss Selby's manner had been so 
 cold to him lately^ ever since^ indeed^ he had 
 been with her to Almack's_, that he did not like 
 actually — to use his own expression — ^^ pop- 
 ping- the question.'^ But the difficulties that 
 were to be got over^ only stimulated Lady 
 Julia Read to greater exertions ^ and she ac- 
 cordingly made up her mind to try what the 
 inserting' another paragraph in the paper 
 Avould do : — saying that the 27th was 
 the day fixed for the marriag'e of Mr. Read 
 to Miss Selbv ; and enumeratino- the balls 
 and breakfasts that were to be given on the 
 interesting occasion. Her ladyship foresaw 
 that most probably this would bring matters 
 to a crisis by congratulatory letters pouring 
 in on all sides : she did not reckon upon a 
 girl of seventeen persisting in saying '' No" 
 when all the world had been given to under- 
 stand she had previously said ^^ Yes f and who 
 if she did not marry her nephew^ would induce 
 many to take his part; thinking that the young- 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 lady had jilted him. She merely begged her 
 jiephew to keep his own counsel for the next 
 few days^ and then^ perhaps^ matters would 
 be settled. He was so deeply in debt to 
 tailors and horse-dealers^ that^ as his aunt 
 impressed on his weak niind^ he must either 
 submit to marry Miss Selby^ or leave London 
 instantly for the Continent. ^^ I have no 
 money to give you/^ she continued j ^^ and 
 you migiit as well talk of flying* over the 
 moon as getting* a sixpence from that prince 
 of screwSy your uncle^ my rig'ht worthy 
 husband." 
 
 He knew too well that she spoke the truth^ 
 and that he was quite in her power ; for since 
 his father's death he had received no money : 
 indeed there was none to receive : the little 
 property that there w^as attached to the 
 cottage at Oakham having* been left to the 
 widow^ and so tied up by the settlements 
 that he could not touch a penny of it Avithout 
 her knowledge. He had never taken the 
 trouble to make any inquiries about Miss 
 Selby's fortune : — he had taken it for granted 
 that she was the heiress his aunt reported her
 
 HARDEN HALL. 83 
 
 to be^ and therefore would be most acceptable 
 in the present reduced state of his finances. 
 
 ^' Shall I propose to-day?" he exclaimed^ 
 turning' suddenly towards his companion^ who 
 was apparently lost in a reverie of bitter 
 thoug-hts. 
 
 " ^o/' she replied^ ^^ not to-day , if you do^ 
 you will ruin all. You can g'o to Grosvenor- 
 street^ and inquire after her ladyship j say 
 that I have g-ot a bad headache^ but hope 
 it will be better if they will all dine here 
 to-nio'ht at eio-ht o'clock: and do not fail 
 to congratulate the lucky girl on being* made 
 a maid of honour. Do you know/' she con- 
 tinued^ tapping* him on the shoulder^ ^^your 
 wife will be the Honourable Mrs. Eead ? and 
 though^ of course^ that is nothing like Lady 
 Julia Eead^ still it will give here some con- 
 sequence. Besides^ the Queen has taken her 
 up so warmly, she may be enabled to get you 
 some situation under government, which will 
 bring in a few more hundreds : for you have 
 not forgotten, if this marriage takes place, 
 that 3'ou have promised to lend me 500/." 
 
 ^^ Indeed, I never promised anything of the 
 
 G 2
 
 84 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 kind/' retorted the nephew^ g'etting" crimson 
 at the bare idea of such an act of g-enerosit}^ 
 on his part. 
 
 ^^ Wait a moment^ and we will see who is 
 in the right/' replied Lady Julia^ thoroughly 
 unmoved at this attempt at rag'e on her 
 nephew's part^ — ^^wait a moment^ and you 
 will see then that I am not in the habit of 
 asserting things which I cannot prove." 
 
 Mr. Bead's heart misgave him when he saw 
 her g'o to the drawer of a bureau^ where she 
 always kept her papers. He saw that he 
 should have to give way to her. Once^ in- 
 deed^ some glimmerings of offended spirit shot 
 through his mind^ and he resolved to shake 
 off this dependence on a woman whom he had 
 once liked^ but now despised and feared. 
 
 ^^This^ I believe^ Mr. Eead/' said Lady 
 Julia^ speaking* in her haughtiest manner^ 
 — ^^ this^ I believe^ is the bond you g-ave me 
 for 500/. ; but if you wish to cancel it^ do 
 so — say but one word^ it shall be torn up, 
 and you wdll leave this house, never to appear 
 in it again." 
 
 '^ Oh, no ! I have no wish to cancel it ;" — 
 the thoug'hts of losing- the run of this g'ood
 
 HARDEN HALL. 85 
 
 house^ all the g*ood dinners^ and savoury 
 rag'outs completely turning' his head — ^^oh^ 
 no^ I always meant to give it you^ only I 
 hoped you had no hond^ that I might give 
 it you as my own free act^ the moment I 
 was married/^ 
 
 ^' Well^ I am glad to see you have returned 
 to your senses. And now^ pray^ go and call 
 in Grosvenor-street.'^ 
 
 But before we proceed with him there^ we 
 must inquire what had been taking place 
 amono'st our friends in Grosvenor-street, since 
 we left them after their return from the palace. 
 Catherine was playing* on the pianoforte the 
 folloTving morning_j when the letters arrived^ 
 and was utterly amazed^ when the servant 
 said^ ^' They are all for you_j ma'am." 
 
 ^^All!" she exclaimed^ thinking the man 
 was dreaming*. He bowed^ and placing' them 
 close to her^ left the room. One^ two^ three 
 — thirteen — she counted. What they all con- 
 tained^ she could not conceive^ and^ jumping 
 up^ she ran with them into her grandmother's 
 room. The latter had gone to speak to her 
 husband 3 so turning over all the letters^ 
 Catherine first opened one from her father
 
 8G HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 and mother^ rejoicing- very much to hear of her 
 appointment as maid of honour^ and g'iving 
 her^ at the same time^ some very g-ood advice, 
 which Catherine vowed, in her inmost soul, 
 to follow. Scarcely had she finished reading- 
 this home letter, when Lady Anne returned ; 
 and she immediately g-ave it to her to read, 
 exclaiming-, ^^ Look ! — do look, g'ranny ! — here 
 are a dozen letters come for me — what can 
 they he about?" 
 
 ^^ I am sure, my love, I have not the 
 slig-htest idea; but open them, and let us 
 see what they contain." 
 
 She had scarcely read the first sheet, when 
 she burst out laug-hing*, exclaiming-, ^^ It is 
 from my brother Mortimer, who says he hears 
 I am g-oing- to be married, and sends me a 
 g-ood lecture on the blessing-s of a silent wife. 
 He has always laug'hed at me for talking- so 
 much, dear fellow ', yet I am half ang-ry with 
 him, for thinking- I could possibly have any 
 idea of marriag-e, without his knowing- it." 
 
 One after the other she opened, and at last 
 became exceeding-ly annoyed at finding- they 
 were all written with the idea she w^as on 
 the eve of beinof married. ^^And who do
 
 HARDEN HALL. 87 
 
 you tliink^ gTandmiima^ tliey have pitched 
 upon as the happy man ? Why^ that little 
 hop-o'-my-thumh Mr. Eead^ whom I scarcely 
 know^ and dislike so much.'^ 
 
 ^^ It is very strang-e : what could have given 
 rise to this report ?" replied Lady Anne 
 Lyndsay. ^^ I cannot imag'ine^ Catherine^ that 
 you have deceived me^ and have received any 
 more attentions than you mentioned from Mr. 
 Eead^ the nig-ht you were at Almack's;'' and 
 she steadily watched her g-randchild^ to see if 
 there was any chang'e of countenance : but 
 there was none. 
 
 Catherine ag'ain repeated all that had passed 
 in the clearest manner^ and when she had 
 finished^ Lady Anne pressed her most affec- 
 tionately to her hearty saying*^ that '^ She had 
 never^ for one singie instant^ suspected any- 
 thing* had g-one wrong* : only it was quite 
 necessary^ dearest girl/' she continued^ '' that 
 you should feel quite positive of what he did 
 say to you.'' 
 
 Her ladyship was somewhat surprised at 
 
 olonel Selwyn having' said^ that if he re- 
 mained longer with Miss Selhy^ Mr. Read
 
 88 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 would think himself ag-g-rieved : for she knew 
 he was far above all those odious pretty 
 speeches which some men think themselves 
 at liberty to make to every g-irl. She in- 
 stantly determined to send and ask Colonel 
 Selw}^ to call immediately on her^ without 
 mentioning" to him anything- that had passed. 
 Great was her disappointment when an an- 
 swer was returned that Colonel Selwyn had 
 left London three days ag-o for the north of 
 England^ and was not expected to return for 
 some time. Mr. Lyndsay had just g-one out of 
 town also ^ so that our heroine and Lady Anne 
 were in a reg-ular quandai-y. They were in deep 
 consultation when the servant entered and 
 announced that Mr. Eead was in the draw- 
 ing--room^ and wished to see her ladyship. 
 More annoyed than she cared to let the faith- 
 ful Parker discover^, she requested Mr. Read 
 would call again^ as she was then particularly 
 eng-ag-ed. But he returned for answer^ that 
 his business was of the most urgent kind^ and 
 beg"g'ed that if he could not see Lady Anne 
 he mig'ht be permitted to see Miss Selby. 
 This Lady Anne felt to be quite out of the
 
 HARDEN HALL. 89 
 
 question 3 so saying* she would be with him 
 directly^ the servant withdrew. 
 
 ^' And now^ my love/^ she said^ turning* to 
 Catherine^ who was seated on the footstool at 
 her feet^ ^^ I have not the smallest doubt he 
 is come to propose to you. What is your 
 answer to be^ Yes or NoT^ 
 
 ^^ Oh^ INTo ! .jNTo ! a most decided No !" cried 
 Catherine 5 ^^and let him understand that if 
 ever I had felt a liking* for him^ which is far 
 from being- the case^ his having* spread this 
 report — for I feel positive it is all his doing* 
 — would quite prevent my ever speaking* to 
 him ag"ain." 
 
 ^^ You are quite rig*ht^ my love : remain 
 here till I return." 
 
 It appeared to Catherine as if her g'rand- 
 mother never did mean to return. More than 
 an hour had elapsed since she had left her, 
 and still she could not hear a sound of her 
 return. At leng-th her quick^ decided step 
 was heard on the staircase^ and in a few 
 minutes she appeared^ looking* very pale and 
 fatigued. Throwing* herself into an arm- 
 chair^ she said^ ^^ You have need^ dearest g'irl,
 
 90 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 of all your courag'e^ all your sweetness of tem- 
 per^ to listen with common patience to what 
 I have just heard." She then proceeded to 
 tell her that Mr. Read had met her at the 
 door of the drawing-room^ saying-^ that as he 
 came by the appointment of Miss Selby^ he 
 felt sure of being* welcomed by her g-rand- 
 mother; particularly as he came to ask her 
 consent to what her lovely g-rand-daug-hter 
 had already promised^ namely^ to give him 
 her hand." 
 
 Here Catherine started up^ exclaiming*^ 
 ^^ What a wretch ! He never even asked me ! 
 and if he had^ does he think I would ever 
 marry one so utterly worthless as to be 
 capable of inventing* such a tissue of un- 
 truths?" 
 
 ^^ Patience^ dearest child^ and hear to the 
 end of my story : thoug*h no wonder 3^our 
 young' blood boils with indignation. He then 
 told me that at Almack's you solemnly vowed 
 you would never marry any other man • and, 
 in fine, he says, the marriag-e settlements are 
 being" draAvn up, and only wait your sig*na- 
 ture."
 
 HARDEN HALL. 91 
 
 ^^ AVhich they shall never have^ as long- as I 
 have any sense left. Never will I consent to 
 marry a man who^ having- spent all his own 
 fortune^ expects to find me an heiress^ and 
 that my fortune will pay his debts and will 
 support him. The pitiful 'wretch ! how I 
 despise him. And now you see^ my dear 
 g-ranny^ how rig'ht Colonel Selwyn w^as as to 
 his ideas of 3'oung' Bead spreading' these 
 reports himself. But I wish now it had been 
 contradicted at first.'' 
 
 '^ 1^0 J Catherine^ that could not be ; it 
 v^ould have made your name too public. 
 Thoug'h I repeatedly assured Mr. Read you 
 would never accept liim^ and beg'g'ed him^ if 
 he had any reg-ard for you whatever^ to let 
 the subject drop and leave town for a short 
 time. He would not hear of such a thing', 
 but positively insisted that till he heard the 
 fatal ^ No' from your own lips, he would not 
 give up all hope." 
 
 ^^And must I then see him ag'ain?" said 
 Catherine, colouring* with vexation at the 
 idea. 
 
 " I see no other way of g-etting' rid of him,
 
 92 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 my dear; thoug-h my heart aches to think 
 how disagTeeable it will be to you. This 
 evening*^ at six o'clock^ he intends calling*. I 
 will then retire into the small drawing*-room 
 and leave you two tog-ether. Do not let 
 him see a trace bf ag-itation in your manner 
 or looks : be as cool to him as you possibly 
 can^ and very decided , let him see that there 
 is no hope for him whatever. I need hardly 
 add how terribly g-rieved all your famil}^ would 
 have been^ had you fancied such a horror. 
 And now^ my love^ this is likely to prove a 
 busy day to you^ for you must write to your 
 brother^ and also to those officious young 
 ladies who have written to you : say that you 
 know not how the report has originated^ as 
 Mr. Eead has only been in your company half 
 a dozen times ; that he is perfectly indiiferent to 
 you^ and has not even proposed to you. 
 Write at once : — for if you wait till this even- 
 ings you cannot say so. Next week^ I g-rieve 
 to think, I shall lose you : and yet it is very 
 fortunate, for we shall meet constantly, and 
 you will be enabled to escape from Mr. Read, 
 which you could hardly do did you remain 
 here with me.''
 
 HARDEN HALL. 93 
 
 Catherine proceeded to do as she was de- 
 sh'ed : thoiig^h she could not but feel nervous 
 at the thouo'hts of the disagreeable interview 
 she was to encounter that afternoon. Her 
 grandmother felt deeply for her^ and most 
 indignant with Lady Julia Eead ) for she felt 
 certain that her nephew was only a tool in 
 her hands. * 
 
 '^ But I forgot to send for the Morning 
 Posty^ said she^ aloud^ ^^ which I will do 
 instantly^ and see what the paragraph is that 
 has given you all this trouble." When she 
 saw that Mr. Eead had not only formally 
 announced his marriage^ but fixed the day^ 
 she felt strongly tempted to send him a note 
 to deny him the house for the future. How 
 a young man could expect any girl to 
 marry him after such great want of delicacy, 
 was inexplicable to her 3 and she felt more 
 grieved than she cared to acknowledge to her 
 grand-daughter, at this public avowal of a 
 marriage which was unknown to the lad}^ 
 herself. She once thouo-ht of sendino- Cathe- 
 rine from town ) but reflected that if she did 
 so, people Avould infallibly be good natured
 
 94 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 enougli to say that Miss Selby had gone into 
 the country because her family would not 
 suffer her to marry Mr. Read. 
 
 This worthy lover did not care to inform his 
 aunt of the result of his morning*'s interview ; 
 onl}^ appearing" pleased and happy^ he said he 
 was to see Miss Selby at six o'clock that evening* 
 by appointment. This was all she cared to 
 know 3 for on that very day she had been pressed 
 for payment of several heavy bills^ which she 
 hoped her nephew's five hundred pounds 
 would discharg-e. His future happiness was 
 quite indifferent to her^ could she onl}^ secure 
 the money. 
 
 Such is too frequently the friendship of the 
 world : everybody pursuing' their own end^ 
 never thinking* of the g-olden rule of doing- 
 as they would be done by. Her lad3^ship felt 
 no compunction as she reflected that when 
 her nephew had first been introduced by 
 her into the world^ he was an open-hearted^ 
 confiding- youth • but that now^ by her artful 
 instructions^ tog-ether with the still more 
 powerful force of bad example^ he had become 
 a proflig-ate spendthrift.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 95 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 It was in one of the narrow streets that lead 
 from the Strand to the river^ that a g-entleman 
 walking- along- was struck by the sing-ular 
 appearance of a woman who beg-g'ed of him. 
 He fancied he could recognise the voice : but 
 where he had seen her^ or who she was^ he 
 could not remember in the slig-htest deo-ree. 
 Her dress_, thoug*li dirt}^ and rag-g-ed^ showed 
 evidently that it had seen better days^ for lace 
 and fring'e bedizened the upper parts_, and 
 the remains of what had been fine silk stock- 
 ings hung- in rags about her feet. She held by 
 the hand a sickly boy^ whose pale and haggard 
 face showed how much he had already sufFered_, 
 thouo'h he could not have numbered more 
 than eio'ht summers. 
 
 Oh ! of all the dreadful melancholy sights that 
 sicken the human mind^ there is none so terrible^
 
 96 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 SO overpowering-^ as to see children (wlio seem in 
 their early years born for joy and hapj^iness) 
 wasting- away with misery and want — their 
 little hands pale^ thin_j and bony : evident proofs 
 that early sorrow has even then wrinkled their 
 brows^ and eng-raven deep lines of care on 
 their innocent little faces. ' If those who have 
 never known what care and want is^ — if those 
 who from earliest infancy have been accus- 
 tomed to every indulgence^ would but think on 
 the miserable lot of thousands — ay^ millions of 
 children^ that throng* our streets^ and would 
 give up some trifling* luxury for their sake, 
 and would endeavour to make them Christians 
 indeed^ — far^ far happier would be the lot of 
 all the community; for the rich would not 
 miss their pittance^ and the poor would g-ain 
 unspeakable benefits. But let it not be sup- 
 posed that these remarks are made in bitterness 
 of spirit^ — far from it. England is justty proud 
 of her charities : of the innumerable charitable 
 institutions scattered^ with an unsparing* hand, 
 throug-h the whole leng-th and breadth of the 
 land, for the benefit of the poor. Still more, 
 much more might be done by one and all of
 
 HARDEN HALL. 97 
 
 us^ if we would only make up our minds to 
 sacrifice one of our many thousand needless 
 luxuries^ for the g*ood of those Avho really 
 stand in need of the necessaries of life. 
 
 Mr. Brown was^ in fact^ one of those who 
 said little about his good deeds^ but who went 
 about doing- g'ood. He was very rich^ — one 
 of the richest merchants in the city j and 3'et 
 the half of his income he g-ave to the poor. 
 Xever did the distressed cr}' to him in vain , 
 and he stopped immediately that this woman 
 begged. He was struck with her manner, 
 the tone of voice and slightly foreign ac- 
 cent were so different from the usual style 
 of ordinary beg'gars, that he could not for- 
 bear asking* her whence she came, and where 
 she was livino-. 
 
 ^^ In the streets, sir," she replied with bit- 
 terness } '^ in the streets , and God only knows 
 where ni}- poor child will rest to-night. But 
 it is a sad history from beginning- to end." 
 
 '' Perhaps I can help you, my good wo- 
 man. What is your name ?" 
 
 ^^My name is Eead, sir," she replied; '^•'and 
 this is the first time in my life that I e^er 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 asked alms of any one. Much rather would I 
 have died in the streets than have done so 
 now^ if I had not hoped that you^ sir^ would 
 have rememhered me. My name is Read.'' 
 
 ^^Read/' said Mr. Brown^ musing*; ^^the 
 name seems familiar to me^ and yet I cannot 
 recall to my mind where I knew you.'' 
 
 ^^ Ah^ that is likely enoug-h^ sir : hut per- 
 haps 3'OU may rememher^ four years ag'o^ a 
 young" man buying- a pair of horses of you for 
 his wife to drive. I was young- and handsome 
 then : but two years of want and misery have 
 altered me woefully^ and turned my hair pre- 
 maturely g'ray ; and I am not surprised that 
 in the faded form before you^ you cannot 
 recog-nize the strong- and rosy Maria Andrea." 
 
 ^^ Maria Andrea! — is it indeed you?" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Brown ; ^^ wh}^^ my child^ you are 
 indeed altered! yet just at the time I was 
 listening- to you^ I felt drawn by some irresis- 
 tible impulse towards you. But your husband 
 — what can have happened ? I thoug-ht you 
 were both far away from this place. Stay/' 
 he continued ; ^^ we will ask for shelter in this 
 clean-looking* lodg'ing'-house."
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 99 
 
 While they are demanding' admittance^ ^ye 
 will inform our readers of a few facts con- 
 nected Avith this deserted female. To make 
 her history intelligible to our readers^ we 
 must first give a slight sketch of her parents. 
 
 Her mother^ sister to this rich merchant 
 Mr. Brown^ had possessed surpassing beauty. 
 The dazzling brilliancy of her complexion^ the 
 softness of her lustrous eyes^ her sweet ex- 
 pression^ formed a model of such rare beauty 
 as would have excited the admiration of the 
 most fastidious. It was beauty of the highest 
 order ; it spoke of religious fervour^ of intel- 
 lectual power : it was more^ that which is so 
 highly appreciated by refined minds^ rather 
 than by those cast in a coarser mould. 
 
 Mr. Brown was much connected with some 
 Spanish merchants, and at the time when 
 this fair girl was in the prime of youth and 
 beauty, a young Spaniard, Antonio Andrea, 
 was an inmate in his house, on business 
 of great importance. Our victorious arms 
 were aidino- the crushed and broken-hearted 
 Spaniards to rise up against their cruel con- 
 querors. Large sums of money were neces- 
 
 h2
 
 100 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 sary for this purpose^ and this young man's 
 object was to prevail on Mr. Brown to lend 
 them a very large sum. He hesitated : there 
 was no securit3\ Day after day Antonio was 
 thrown more and more with the lovely Alice ; 
 day after day slipped away^ and they uncon- 
 sciously became attached to each other ; till at 
 length when Mr. Brown consented to furnish 
 the amount require d^ and announced to Don 
 Antonio that he might return to his sunny 
 clime^ great was his astonishment to hear 
 from him of his predilection for his sister. 
 Immersed in more weighty cares^ he had not 
 remarked their growing attachment ; and now 
 that he was made aware of it^ strenuously 
 opposed it^ and urged his sister most earnestly 
 to reflect before she took such a hazardous step. 
 All his old-fashioned English prejudices mili- 
 tated against what to him appeared such an 
 incongruous union. '^ But wilful woman will 
 have her way I " and before the month was 
 over Alice had bestowed herself on this 
 ^^ Spanish adventurer/' as her brother had once 
 termed him. He was one whom most women 
 would have found it difficult to refuse. Hand-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 101; 
 
 some and insinuating-^ Avitli that polislied g'en- 
 tleness of manners whicli appears innate in 
 the natives of southern climes^ he was formed 
 to captivate ; and in marrying- him^ Alice 
 proved what so frequently happens^ that no 
 one can judge for another what will form their 
 happiness. He made an excellent hushand^ 
 and an affectionate father to the only child 
 that their union was blessed with. 
 
 Alice was an enthusiastic admirer of all 
 that was lovely in nature 3 and^ as she wan- 
 dered with her husband throuo-h oToves of 
 orano-e trees, loaded with their frao-rant fruit 
 and blossoms^ she could not but acknowledge 
 that she had never witnessed before anything 
 so enchantino'. The brilliant flowers of the 
 jasmine were hanging in rich festoons around 3 
 countless numbers of bright and^ to her^ un- 
 known flowers clustered on all sides 3 and as she 
 dwelt on the beauties of her adopted country, 
 she gave, uncofisciously perhaps to herself, 
 Hispania a decided preference to the land 
 of her birth : silently she felt that, let 
 cynics say what they might, this is a lovely 
 world. Then, at other times, Avhen the
 
 102 HA.RDEN HALL. 
 
 queen of nig-lit was sliedding- her mellow, 
 entrancing* lig-ht around^ softening- and blend- 
 ing* all harsh lines into an harmonious whole, 
 she w^ould listen with rapturous delight 
 to her Antonio's rich tone, as he warbled a 
 soft air, accompanying* himself on the guitar 3 
 and confessed, indeed, with tearful emotion, that 
 hei^s was a blest and happy lot. Every hour 
 increased the charms of their little daug-hter. 
 Nothing* was wanting* to complete their hap- 
 piness : the trumpet of Avar had not reached 
 their peaceM home. Alas ! alas ! that such a 
 bright scene should ever have become clouded. 
 But ^^ man is born to trouble as the sparks 
 fly upwards/' and their happy menage was 
 shortly to be chang*ed. 
 
 Antonio Andrea was the youngest brother of 
 Pedro Andrea, the head of a large mercantile 
 establishment; he was extensive^ eng-ag-ed 
 in trading* to America. His fortune was in- 
 creasing*; and, in an evil hour, he had 
 persuaded Antonio to embark his all in a 
 speculation. It failed : the rich g*alleon, in 
 returning' from America, was captured by the 
 enemy; and both brothers were suddenly
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 103 
 
 reduced to want and distress. Naturally^ 
 perhaps^ rather given to despond^ Antonio 
 felt this blow deeply; the more so^ because 
 he had till that moment enjoyed competence. 
 IN'evertheless^ his Alice still comforted him. 
 She still smiled as devotedly upon him as 
 before^ and cheerfully acquiesced in every 
 sacrifice it was deemed necessary for them 
 to make. But heavier trials and afflictions 
 awaited her — trials that were^ indeed^ enoug-h 
 to break a woman's heart. To a man^ the 
 Spaniards had revolted against their savage op- 
 pressors. Full of enthusiasm^ Antonio joined 
 a guerilla band that had collected in his 
 neighbourhood. Deeply as he grieved at 
 leaving- his wife and child^ — deeply as he 
 had felt his loss^ — all was secondary to the 
 feelings of intense hatred that he bore to the 
 French^ the authors of all their private and 
 public calamities; and gladly he drew his 
 sword in the defence of his native land. 
 
 •* * * * 7^ 
 
 Three weeks had passed ; and Alice was one 
 night aroused by hearing footsteps approach- 
 ing their dwelling. It was the trampling of
 
 104 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 iiiaiiY men ; and her heart fainted within 
 her^ as she thought it might he some of the 
 detested French. She listened attentively — 
 the steps ceased — there was a dead pause 
 — all was still! AVith tottering- steps she 
 hastened to the window. It was a night 
 formed for pure and holy thoughts: the 
 moon was shedding a mild light around. 
 But Alice stopped not to dwell on heauties 
 which; at another time^ would have charmed 
 her. At the gateway^ she saw some men, 
 whO; hy their hahiliments, she recognised as 
 her husband's compatriots. With a joyful 
 exclamation^ she threw her mantle round 
 her^ and rushed to the entrance door. Her 
 trembling hands almost refused to give her 
 strength to open it. At length it yielded to 
 her pressure — she stood on the lawn. With 
 hasty stepS; she rushed to the little band of 
 men. Not a word was spoken. A thrilling 
 presentiment of evil shot through her excited 
 brain. ^' My husband ! '' she exclaimed^ and fell 
 fainting on the green sward. With prompt kind- 
 nesS; two young men hastened to raise her^ and 
 carry her into the house. The whole establish-
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 105 
 
 ment was by tliis time aroused^ and the unfortu- 
 nate Alice was ag-ain restored to consciousness : 
 but it was to a consciousness of indescribable 
 misery : her husband was no more , and she 
 and her child were left alone and unfriended 
 in a foreign land. Weeks passed away^ and 
 still she remained so ill that fears were enter- 
 tained for her recovery; but the caresses of 
 her little Maria^ gradually taug'ht her she had 
 still claims upon her in this life. She roused 
 herself^ and applied to her mother-in-law for 
 assistance^ which was generously given. After 
 many and gTeat dangers^ owing to the then 
 unsettled state of the country^ she and her 
 child obtained a passage in a merchant vessel, 
 and arrived safely in the British metropolis. 
 
 The excitement that had hitherto enabled 
 the unfortunate widow to bear up against her 
 fearfiil trial; ceased when she reached her 
 brother's hospitable mansion. Consigning her 
 lovely child to his care and protection^ she 
 quickly sunk into the cold grave — broken- 
 hearted. And most conscientiously did her 
 brother fulfil the part of a father to his 
 bereaved niece. The child was reared with
 
 106 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 the tenderest care^ and enjoyed every ad- 
 vantag-e that wealth and affection could 
 give her. She was hig-hly accomplished^ and 
 at seventeen he had placed her at the head of 
 his well-ordered establishment. Her lot was 
 a comparatively happy one ; but^ though 
 fondly attached to her uncle^ Maria yet longed 
 for some companion more suited to her in ag'e, 
 whose tastes and pursuits would accord with 
 her own. She had not many acquaintances. 
 Possibly this was occasioned by her coldness 
 of manner: for she was slig'htly reserved to 
 people in general 3 but as it was generally 
 reported that she would succeed to her uncle's 
 property^ this reserve was no bar to the 
 manoeuvring- advances of those who looked a 
 little beforehand. 
 
 There was a good-looking young man^ who 
 lately had much frequented Mr. Brown's 
 house. He was one of those who had heard 
 this repoi-t^ and fully believed that it must 
 be true. He had great powers of pleasing-^ 
 when he chose to exert them. Maria had never 
 met with so ardent an admirer before^ and 
 bestowed on him the warmth of her first love
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 107 
 
 — that love which is too often so little prized ! 
 He was accomplished^ and if deficient in 
 depth of character^ Maria, or Mary as he 
 called her, perceived it not. She was de- 
 votedly attached to him, and he apparently 
 retui'ued it equally. 
 
 Deeply did she g-rieve at leaving- her uncle — 
 her more than father : full well she knew how 
 much he would feel the want of her society. 
 Thouo'h he was far too unselfish ever to uro-e 
 this motive for refusing- to give his consent 
 to her becoming" the bride of Mr. Eead — 
 whom she judg'ed she had chosen for her own 
 happiness — her uncle cautioned her to post- 
 pone her marriage till she was rather better 
 acquainted with him : he thought matters 
 had been settled a little too precipitately, but 
 could not reasonabl}^ make any objection. 
 Thoug-h not rich at present, the young- man 
 gave out he was to succeed his uncle in the 
 possession of a fine estate. His uncle, he said, 
 was abroad, and his own parents were dead; 
 so that he should devote himself entirely to 
 his fascinatinof bride. 
 
 For a few months he did so : but then he
 
 108 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 began to g-et weary of her. He felt vexed at 
 not having' received at once so larg-e a for- 
 tune as he had anticipated. He frequented 
 the g-aming* table : she saw him but seldom. 
 Her sorrows began earty in life. Keenly did 
 she feel his bitter neg'lect of her — whom he 
 had solemnly vowed to protect and love. 
 
 After one short year had passed over her 
 head^ poor Mar}^ would^ no doubt^ have un- 
 hesitating'ly acknowledged that she had 
 married hastily. The hopes she had formed 
 that after the birth of their child he 
 would have shown her more affection^ were 
 cruelly blig-hted : vainly had she trusted that 
 this first tie would have attached him to his 
 home. They had lived ever since their mar- 
 riaofe in a small house in Brook-street. Lat- 
 terly^ his manner had become strange and 
 reserved : he would be absent sometimes for 
 days^ — sometimes for weeks^ and at last for 
 months^ without assigning any cause. She 
 could not but entertain the most poignant 
 alarms lest these absences should be for bad 
 purposes^ of which he was ashamed^ and with 
 which he did not think fit to make her ac-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 109 
 
 quainted. Moreover_, he iieg'lected to supply 
 her with the means of procuring- any of the 
 comforts she had formerly enjoyed^ indeed^ he 
 often left her with barely sufficient funds to 
 procure the common necessaries of life. 
 
 We have before said^ that on his marriag-e^ 
 this proflig-ate man had declared himself an 
 orphan; and having' once deceived her^ he 
 had^ from that time^ designedly kept her in 
 igTiorance of his relations and connections^ so 
 that in the hour of distress there were none 
 to whom she could apply for assistance. But 
 even in her g-reatest distress^ she could not 
 brino;- herself to believe that he would ever 
 desert her. She clung- to him with woman's 
 firm love, which survives long* after all hope 
 has fled. She recovered but slowly from her 
 confinement_, and ever after looked an altered 
 person. Her uncle had g'one abroad a few 
 months previously. There was no one of whom 
 she could ask for aid. 
 
 After an absence of six months^ she one 
 day received a long* letter from her husband^ 
 saying-^ that as he was sure he never could 
 live comfortably with her^he thoug'ht the}' had
 
 110 HAIlDE^' HALL. 
 
 better separate : but he alleg'ed no reason for 
 his cletermmation. He said he had settled one 
 hundred pounds a year on herj which he 
 hoped Avould suffice for herself and the child. 
 This was^ indeed^ a bitter trial : at the ag-e 
 of nineteen to be deserted and cast off ! 
 Though for months past she had perceived he 
 had ceased to care but little for her 3 still she 
 had always clung to the hope that he would 
 return. 
 
 The letter bore no date. She was over- 
 whelmed with despair^ — but there was no 
 remedy. She resolved^ by the strictest eco- 
 nomy^ to make this miserable pittance of one 
 hundred a year_, suffice ; and proceeded to 
 dispose of all her goods Avhich she could pos- 
 sibly part with. Her child was her only 
 comfort 3 and for his sake she exerted herself 
 to bear these heavy trials^ and managed to 
 exist in this way for four years: when she 
 received another letter^ without date^ sayings 
 ^^ that for the future her allowance v^ould be 
 stopped!" It required all her courage — all 
 her firm reliance on Providence^ to enable her 
 to support herself under this second reverse.
 
 HARDEN HALL. Ill 
 
 She struggled on^ by dint of slaving- day and 
 nig'ht at needlework^ for some months ; but 
 her earnino's were the merest trifle. The 
 incessant labour was too much for her : 
 doing- fine work at nig'ht affected her eye- 
 sio-ht, and at leno-th she became too ill to do 
 any kind of needlework at all. Her land- 
 lady allowed her to remain where she was till 
 she recovered. Driven to despair at last^ she 
 sallied forth in hopes of meeting* with some 
 charitable person who would relieve her. At 
 last^ when nearly exhausted^ she providentially 
 encountered Mr. Brown. 
 
 As Mary finished this heart-rending* recital^ 
 her feeling's overpowered her^ and she fainted 
 away. Her poor little companion set up a most 
 piteous cry^ thinking- that his mother was dead : 
 but after she had revived^ Mr. BrowTi insisted 
 on her returning' to his house. She objected 
 strong'ly at first^ and when he urg-ed it she 
 said^ ^^ Let me^ my dear sir^ remain here till I 
 have procured some decent clothes to appear 
 in. It will not do for your niece to ap- 
 pear at your door as a beg'g'ar. This old 
 woman seems kind^ and will help me to get
 
 112 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 some necessary thing's ; after whicli^ my clear 
 uncle^ I shall thankfully avail m^^self of your 
 kind offer of an asylum for myself and child. 
 But one things you must promise me/' — and 
 the blood mantled in her pale cheek as she 
 bent over him and whispered ; ^Met me 
 beseech you to promise one thing' — let me 
 beg- that you will^ on no account^ endeavour 
 to discover the retreat of my husband. He 
 lives^ I believe : but do not oblig-e me^ I 
 entreat you^ ever to receive him ag-ain: he 
 has done all in his power to embitter my 
 days. May God forg-ive him^ as I do.'' 
 
 The required promise was g-iven^ and Mr. 
 Brown took his leave.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 113 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 The hour had arrived m which Mr. Read 
 was to have an interview with Miss Selb}^ 
 
 It is appalling* to imagine such depravity 
 as his; and yet such has occurred before^ 
 within our recollection. His feeling's must 
 have been none of the pleasantest as he 
 arrived at Mr. Lyndsay^s. He must have 
 been conscious of the villany he was perpe- 
 trating- : of the infamy of which he was 
 gnilty. If such were his thoug'hts^ they 
 deterred him not^ and he walked up to the 
 door with bold assurance. 
 
 Catherine's dread of his visit had not di- 
 minished during- the many hours that had 
 elapsed since his morning- call : at the sound 
 of his footsteps ascending- the stairs^ she felt 
 her cheeks g'low with a brig-ht carnation hue ; 
 and her manner^ as he entered^ became 
 
 VOL. I. ^
 
 114 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 sliglitly agitated. Quickly recovering herself, 
 she received Mr. Read with polite coldness. 
 Lady Anne^ after bowing in the most distant 
 manner^ retired^ as before agreed^ into the 
 inner drawing'-room. 
 
 An awkward silence succeeded^ broken at 
 leng'th^ by Mr. Bead's saying*^ — 
 
 ^^ After the cruel manner in which Lad}^ 
 Anne repulsed me this morning'^ you may 
 conceive my distracting* anxiety to receive 
 from you an assurance that I was not mistaken 
 in supposing- myself your accepted lover." 
 Receiving' no answer from the lady^ after a 
 little coug-hing' and hesitation^ he proceeded 
 .in the usual strain — declared from the first 
 moment that the lig-ht of Miss Selby's e3^es 
 had beamed upon him^ he had become deeply 
 inamorato — vowed eternal^ unchang"ing* con- 
 stancy — never ceasing* devotion* and conjured 
 .her^ as she valued his life^ or happiness^ to 
 consent to become his bride. 
 
 She here attempted to interrupt him^ but 
 without effect. He spoke of his fortune^ as 
 likely to be considerable ) of his personal 
 charmS; as not wiconsiderable ; declared re-
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 115 
 
 peatedly her slig'htest wish should be heeded : 
 his every thought devoted to make her happ}' — 
 to make her life one of continual round of plea- 
 sure and sunshine. Catherine heard him with 
 amazement : his whole tone spoke more of 
 conferrino- than receivino- a favour. Havino;" 
 now exhausted his rhetoric^ he remained 
 silent. 
 
 Catherine then rose with dignity^ and in 
 the gentlest but firmest Avay^ thanked him for 
 the honour he had done her ; begged to de- 
 cline all further allusion to the subject; and 
 said plainly that^ even if she had been better 
 acquainted with him^ the strange way in which 
 her name had twice been coupled with his 
 and inserted in the public papers^ without her 
 knowledge or consent — without^ in fact^ such 
 a thing having ever crossed her mind^ — must 
 place a barrier between them Avhich no after 
 circumstances could alter. She therefore 
 hoped the subject might never be again men- 
 tioned. 
 
 She was preparing* to leave the r^oom^ when 
 Mr. Read suddenly turned round; and looking 
 her full in the face^ said^ '^ If you think to
 
 116 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 catch Selwyn^ you are mistaken 5 he is g'one 
 into the country to he married/' 
 
 Then^ indeed^ her indignation was roused : 
 that any man^ a perfect stranger a week ago, 
 should presume to speak thus to her ! She 
 felt so ang-ry that for one moment she was 
 afraid of speaking-; dreading* to show how 
 much she was moved. Mr. Read saw her 
 embarrassment^ and imagining* it to proceed 
 from reg-ard to Colonel Selwyn^ was instantly 
 filled with the blackest hatred to him : whom 
 he felt sure w^as his rival in Miss Selby's g-ood 
 g-races. 
 
 ^^ Leave me^ sir!" said Miss Selby^ with 
 dignity — ^^ leave me^ and let me forget that 
 I have ever known you.'' 
 
 ^^ Forget me you shall not/' replied her 
 persecutor^ furious with her quiet but firm 
 denial ; ^^ you shall hear more of this^ and 
 be taught to take care how you refuse one 
 of the Jinest young men about town ! Am 
 I to take your answer as a positive denial ?" 
 he added. 
 
 '^ You arC; sir 5 as a positive refusal^ which 
 no circumstances can alter/' replied Catherine.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 117 
 
 He then g*ot up and left the room^ mutter- 
 ing* veng^eance and rage ag'ainst Catherine 
 and Colonel Selwyn. 
 
 As to poor Catherine it was an unspeakable 
 relief to her when she heard the house-door 
 shut^ and she trusted that henceforth she 
 would not be troubled with his impertinence. 
 She rushed into her g-randmother's room^ ex- 
 claiming*^ ^^ He is g'one — he is g'one^ dearest 
 g'ranny^ and I trust for ever/^ She then 
 repeated all that had passed between them. 
 
 Lady Anne Lyndsay^s indig-nation was ex- 
 cited at the insolence of the man^ in daring* 
 to speak to her g-rand-daug-hter in such terms 
 of Colonel Selwyn ; and ringing- the bell^ she 
 g-ave orders that no visitors were to be ad- 
 mitted that evening* on any plea whatever. 
 
 Scarcely had she recovered her composure^ 
 when the servant appeared saying*^ '' that 
 Lady Julia Head was at the door and beg'g'ed 
 to see her ladyship." This was too much : so 
 Lady Anne Lyndsa}^ desired her footman to 
 say she was eng-ag'ed^ and^ therefore, could 
 not admit any visitors. But this persevering- 
 lady had provided for such an emerg-ency^ and
 
 118 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 ag-ain sent up a note to beg* they would all 
 dine with her that evening*^ en famille : her 
 nephew having* forg*otten (in his rag-e) to 
 deliver the messag*e. The note was written in 
 the most affectionate style^ and concluded with 
 ^^ kindest love to Miss Selby^ who^ she must 
 know^ had quite captivated and won her heart.'' 
 
 In reply to all this rigmarole^ Lady Anne 
 Lyndsay wrote one line^ to say she regretted 
 that it was not in the power of either herself 
 or her grand-daughter to accept her invitation. 
 
 '^ And now I trusty grandmama^ that we 
 have satisfied this tiresome woman ; and that 
 she will not pester us any more." 
 
 Her grandmother shook her head ] for she 
 foresaw that^ to a person of Mr. Eead's tem- 
 perament^ the being refused would act as a 
 spur to him to make further exertions 3 and 
 when she looked on the beaming countenance 
 of her beloved Catherine^ she felt that any 
 one might have sighed to possess such a jewel. 
 But she was far too sensible to let any of this 
 appear in her manner and voice^ and restrained 
 herself from shewing all she felt : though she 
 said enough in praise of Catherine to make 
 her blush still more.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 119 
 
 ^^ And lioWj gTandmama^ I want to hear 
 who Colonel Selwyn is : for the day you 
 beg'an to tell me^ we were interrupted j so that 
 I only heard he was the son of his father !" 
 and she lauo-hed as she saw the arch look with 
 which Lady Anne answered^ ^^ I think g-rand- 
 papa would he jealous if he knew how much 
 you admire this g-allant Colonel." But instead 
 of following- the thread of their discourse^ I will 
 conduct my reader by a shorter route to the 
 same end. 
 
 Colonel Selwyn's father has a fine old place 
 in Hunting-donshire : an Elizabethan house^ 
 situated in a beautiful park of ^\e or six hun- 
 dred acreS; which is well stocked with deer. 
 Rather late in life he married a very pretty 
 girly and Colonel Selwyn was their onl}' child. 
 At the time we are speaking- of, the elder Mr. 
 Selwyn was old and infirm^ and rarely left his 
 ^' ain fireside/' His wife was his constant com- 
 panion. She was twenty years his junior^ 
 and thouo'h at times a transient wish came 
 over her that she should like to visit her own 
 dear Scotland^ where her family lived^ she 
 carefully repressed such feeling's. She saw
 
 120 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 plainly tliat Mr. Selwyn could not exist with- 
 out her constant and unceasing- care^ and 
 therefore felt it was her first duty to remain 
 with him. Many years had now elapsed since 
 any relations or friends had enlivened their 
 house with mirth and merriment : but 3^et; my 
 fair readers^ it must not be thought that Mrs. 
 Selwyn was otherwise than happy. She had 
 many resources in herself^ the villag'e school 
 and the g-arden^ were constant occupations 
 to one who was never idle. But the person 
 who eng-rossed the chief of her thoug^hts — who 
 in fact might be said never to be absent from 
 her mind da}^ or night — was her son Arthur ; 
 whom we have already introduced to our 
 readers as Colonel Selwyn^ of the Guards. 
 He was in her eyes quite perfect : she lived 
 on the recollection of all he had done that 
 was g-ood and excellent. It is only fair to 
 add^ that the son thought his mother equally 
 perfect ] and never^ when absent^ allowed a day 
 to pass without writing- to her. She had long- 
 wished to see him well married : for^ thoug-h 
 she foresaw that this would remove her from 
 the very first place in his affections^, still she
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 121 
 
 looked forward to the pleasure of having- a 
 loveahh daug'hter-in-law^ and g-randchildren, 
 upon whom to lavish all the tenderness of her 
 warm affections. Besides^ Arthur was two- 
 and-fort}' ; so that she thought it hig-h time 
 that he should he settled. 
 
 The moment he mentioned Miss Selby in 
 his letters as being* so charming-^ she hoped 
 that he had at last found some one to suit him ; 
 and his sudden departure with a party of young* 
 friends for the IN^orth the very next day^ quite 
 astonished her. She forebore to notice it as 
 anything- unusual^ or even to allude in any 
 way to Miss Selby : she hoped the match 
 mig'ht be brought about in time^ but was 
 perfectly aware how often the best assorted 
 matches are broken off by one careless word 
 of even the well-wishers of either party. 
 
 Mrs. Selwyn was sitting- quietly at work 
 after dinner in an oriel window which looked 
 upon the park : her husband quietly sleeping* 
 in an arm-chair at her side^ when the little 
 dog* at her feet beg'an barking* furiously. She 
 tried to quiet him^ and succeeded so well that 
 he ag*ain laid down his head at her feet. 
 It was an evening*^ such as we often enjoy
 
 122 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 in this favoured isle^ when every thing* in- 
 vites to quiet and repose. The last rays of 
 the setting* sun were tinging- the church 
 tower^ which stood on a knoll near the house, 
 and threw its lono- shadow across the lawn. 
 Some fine old cliesnut and oak trees were 
 near the churchy and their tops were also 
 glowing- with its radiant light. The day 
 had been oppressively hot, and the deer were 
 now moving- about as if the gentle cool breeze, 
 which was beo-inninof to wave throuofh the 
 trees, invited them to show a little more 
 activity than they had done during- the last 
 twelve hours. The soft cry of the does call- 
 ing- their young, was the only sound that 
 broke the stillness of the evening- 3 and as 
 Mrs. Selwyn g-azed upon this fair and beauti- 
 ful scene, she felt it was only throug-h the 
 sin of man that the whole world was not such 
 a paradise as this that she now beheld. Her 
 thoug-hts wandered through many scenes of 
 bygone days and youthful pleasures, that had 
 been shared with those now lost to her for 
 ever : she thought of that fair sister, who, 
 during- the first twenty years of her life, had 
 shared her every thoug-ht, her every joy and
 
 HARDEN HALL. 123 
 
 sorrow; and yet not a murmur escaped her^ 
 that one so fair had been taken awa}'. l^o ! 
 she felt that had it been in her power to recall 
 her^ she would not have done so. 
 
 It is undeniable^ that there is something- 
 in a fine sunset which insensibly turns one's 
 thoug'hts into a melancholy channel. Whether 
 it is that the sun quickly disappearing* reminds 
 one more than anything else of the frailty of our 
 nature ; or that^ as poets of old imagined^ 
 in this solemn hour the air is peopled with 
 departed spirits^ I know not : but on the even- 
 ing in question Mrs. Selwyn felt a most 
 unusual depression of spirits. She passed 
 out at the window_, and even advanced a few 
 steps on the lawn^ hoping' that the air would 
 revive her. The moon was beo-innino- to rise 
 behind some fine aspens which quivered in her 
 pale light. In the morning' she had been 
 reading* that beautiful description of this very 
 tree_, where the reason of its tremulous motion 
 is beautifully accounted for. Gently to her- 
 self she repeated the following* words : — 
 
 ^^ The blessed cross^ whereon the meek Ee- 
 deemer bowed his head to death^ was framed
 
 124 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 of aspen wood ; and since tliat hour^ through 
 all its race^ the pale tree hath sent down a 
 thrilling" consciousness — a secret awe : making* 
 tlicm tremulous when not a breeze disturbs 
 the airy thistle-down^ or shakes the lig^ht 
 lines of the fair}^ g*ossamer.'^ Pursuing- the 
 same train of thought^ she repeated Mrs. 
 Hemans' beautiful lines on this very subject^ 
 consisting' of a short dialogue between a father 
 and his child : — 
 
 Child. (After a pause) '^ Dost thou believe it, father ?'* 
 
 Father. " Nay, my child, 
 We walk in clearer light. But yet even now, 
 With something of lingering' love, I read 
 The characters of that mysterious hour, 
 Stamped on the reverential soul of man 
 In visionary days, and thence thrown back 
 On the fair forms of nature. Many a sign 
 Of the great Sacrifice which wins us heaven, 
 The woodman and the mountaineer can trace 
 On rock, on herb, or flower. And be it so. 
 They do not wisely who with hurried hand 
 Would pluck the salutary fancies forth 
 From their strong soil within the peasant's breast. 
 And scatter them, far, far, too fast away ! 
 As worthless weeds. Oh, little do we know 
 Whom they have scathed — whom saved !"
 
 HARDEN HALL. 125 
 
 She had now wandered throug'h the g-arden 
 to the church3'ard^ when her steps were 
 arrested hy the sig'ht of a chikl^ apparently 
 not more than eio-ht years old, tvino- a 
 g-arland round one of those little wooden 
 monuments which are so common in coun- 
 try churchyards. The child had already 
 placed one g*arland round the further end_, 
 and was now husily eng-ag-ed in arranging- 
 the other to correspond; and as she did 
 this^ Mrs. Selwyn^ ohserving- traces of tears 
 on the child's pale face^ g'^ntly approached 
 her. On doing so she perceived that this 
 was the sister to a little child who had heen 
 buried a week before^ and she called her softly 
 by name. The child started up^ and on seeing- 
 the ladi/y as Mrs. Selwyn was called by the 
 villag-ers, she dropped a curtsey : in answer 
 to the lady's inquiries^ the child said that 
 every nig-ht since her sister's death she had 
 placed two fresh g-arlands of the flowers her 
 sister had loved best on the gTave ; that she 
 had no fear of coming* there alone^ and that 
 g-rann}^ told her she need never fear^ for that 
 God always took care of those who were g-ood.
 
 126 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 Mrs. Sehv}'!! g'ently commended the child^ and, 
 "bidding* her good nig-ht, proceeded to the house. 
 Mr. Selwyn was still sleeping* ; so closing* the 
 •\yindow_, she resumed her work. 
 
 In a few minutes she was startled hy hear- 
 ing* the sound of wheels, and thinking* only 
 of her son she exclaimed, ^^ Frederick ! here 
 is Arthur coming*." At this heloved name 
 the old man eagerly started up ; never 
 douhting, as the wheels rapidly approached 
 the door, but that it must he their son; 
 and the instant the bell rang* they both 
 hastened to the drawing*-room door. They 
 were astonished at hearing* a strang-e voice 
 in angry tones ; so, begging* Mr. Selwyn to 
 remain quiet, his wife advanced throug*h the 
 hall to the house-door, in time to hear their 
 faithful old servant say, ^' I don't know where 
 my master is 3 and if I did, I should not tell 
 the like of you, without asking* my missis.'^ 
 
 ^^ What has happened. Smith ? — Who is 
 this?'' inquired Mrs. Selwyn, suddenly ap- 
 pearing* before the stranger's e3^es : " is any 
 one inquiring for Colonel Selwyn ?" 
 
 '^ Yes, ma'am : but I think this young*
 
 HARDEN HALL. 127 
 
 man^s mad; for he talks of sliooting- the 
 colonel^ the first time he sees him/' 
 
 ^^Good Heavens! and who are you^ sir?" 
 said Mrs. SelTvyn^ turning* with dig-nity to the 
 stranger. 
 
 ^^ My name is Eead^ madam ; and I suppose 
 you are the mother of this g'ood-for-nothing- 
 colonel: he pleased to tell me where he is. 
 He has thwarted me in a very ung-entleman- 
 like manner 3 and I will he revenged^ or my 
 name is not Read !'' 
 
 '^ Mr. Eead^ you seem strang-ely to have 
 forg'otten yourself/' replied Mrs. Selwyn : '^ as 
 to my son^ I do not know where he is at this 
 present moment. But even if I did^ I should 
 not feel m^^self at all obliged to inform a per- 
 fect strang'er ] who^ to judg-e by his words^ can 
 have no good intention towards him. The 
 peace and quiet of our house oug'ht not to be 
 disturbed by such an unseasonable intrusion." 
 
 Mr. Eead^ like all bullies^ was an arrant 
 coward ; and was most completely cowed by 
 the firmness of tone and manner with which 
 Mrs. Selwyn had addressed him ] so^ after mut- 
 tering" something about this stupid woman's
 
 128 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 officiousness^ he said^ that as Colonel Selwyn 
 was not there^ he must return that nig-ht to 
 town y and ordered the post-boy to drive off. 
 
 Mrs. Selwyn manag-ed to keep up her spirits, 
 so as to recount the adventure to her husband, 
 who treated the whole affair as a joke. But 
 when alone, she could not but feel some pre- 
 sentiment of evil for her beloved son, and 
 burst into tears. Sadly she thought of him ; 
 then fervently commending- him to the watch- 
 ful care of Providence, she closed her eyes, 
 and sunk into a tranquil slumber.
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 129 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 With Mr. Read it was far otlierwise. He 
 was furious at havino- undertaken this fi'uit- 
 less journey ; on what; after all^ he was forced 
 to acknowledg'e was merely a conjecture of his 
 own. From his aunt alone he had under- 
 stood that there existed a ijencliayit in Colonel 
 Selw3'n's hreast for Miss Selby ; and now^ on 
 reflection^ he saw how madly he had acted. 
 Then came the disagreeable reflection of how 
 the expenses of this little expedition — this 
 wild-g'oose chase — were to be defrayed : he 
 had borrowed a sum of money on promise of 
 payment when married^ at the end of the week, 
 to a rich heiress; and positively asserted he 
 should not return before the followino- week. 
 IS'ow he was driven back, — by what? By 
 the firmness of a single woman. Maddened 
 by this idea, he was almost tempted to return 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 to Bury House. Soon, however^ lie became 
 incapable of making any more such sag-e 
 reflections : lie dined on the road ; and, either 
 from over-fatig'ue or feverish excitement (it 
 matters not which), the wine had so great an 
 effect upon him that he had no longer any com- 
 mand over himself. He continued so till his 
 arrival in town the following day; when his 
 valet, knowing how necessary it was to keep 
 her nephew's return a secret from Lady Julia 
 Read till he was in a proper state to present 
 himself before her, conducted him to his room, 
 and recommended him to remain quietly at 
 home till he had recovered from the excite- 
 ment. 
 
 But we will leave this infatuated young 
 man, and see what has become of Colonel 
 Selwyii. From the first moment of his intro- 
 duction to Miss Selby, he had felt strange 
 and, to him, unknown sensations : for he had 
 never loved before. Still, not even to himself, 
 would he allow that one dance at Almack's 
 had settled his affections for life ; and though, 
 had there been no Mr. Bead in the case, he 
 might have been tempted to pay Catherine 
 great attention, yet feeling no doubt in his
 
 HARDEN HALL. 131 
 
 own mind that she was certainly eno-ao^ed to 
 him^ he wisely thoug'ht he acted for the best in 
 leaving' London for a time^ and not seeing" 
 this fair girl ag'ain till she was really married. 
 Many of my readers may suppose from this 
 that he was not much in love with Catherine ; 
 whereas the fact was^ he admired her so much^ 
 that he did not venture to trust himself in hei* 
 society : and when^ the day after he left town^ 
 he saw in the paper the marriag-e announced 
 and the day fixed^ he resolved to banish her 
 from his thoug'hts. But thoug-hts are not so 
 easily ruled \ and it too often happens that 
 Metastasio is rioj-ht in sayino- — 
 
 " Pastar cli te non vogliO; e fra le labbra 
 Ho sempre il nome tiio ; v6 dal pensiero 
 Cancellar quel sembiante e in oqui ogg'etto 
 Col pensier lo diping*." 
 
 Colonel Selwyn mechanically found himself^ 
 day after da}'^, looking- over the list of mar- 
 riag'es to ascertain whether his fate was de- 
 cided : but without success ; till at lenoth a 
 faint hope arose that after all she might not 
 become the bride of Mr. Eead. He remem- 
 bered what were Catherine's words concerning* 
 
 K 2
 
 132 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 him on the memorable evening- of the ball in 
 Willis's rooms^ and he was almost inclined to 
 be angry with himself for having- ever sus- 
 pected her of being- capable of marrying* such 
 a creature : but then^ again^ he remembered 
 the note he had received from Mr. Eead^ 
 excusing- himself from calling-^ because he was 
 g-oing- to be married^ and had not time to 
 think of any one excepting- Miss Selby. 
 ^^ Could any man/' he said^ ^^ have the auda- 
 city to use such lang-uag-e of any gentlewoman^ 
 unless assured of her hand?" Stilly the more 
 he thoug-ht of her manner towards himself^ the 
 less he thoug-ht it likely she would ever consent 
 to marry Mr. Eead : ^^ yet/' he continued^ ^^ why 
 should I^ without more than one short half 
 hour's acquaintance^ pronounce her more hig-h 
 principled than the g-enerality of the London 
 young- ladies ? — I will return to town for the 
 purpose of ascertaining- this ; for seeing- is 
 believing- : I may indeed be doing* her injustice. 
 Her mother's daug-hter could never be so devoid 
 of all right feeling*^ as to marry a man merely 
 because people say he will have 20,0001, a 
 year: which I much doubt." He ended his 
 cogitations where they beg-an^ by thinking-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 133 
 
 Catherine must be perfect ] and g-ave orders for 
 his servant to prepare for an immediate return 
 to London. 
 
 It is by no means an uncommon thing for 
 men to suppose that girls will marry for 
 money if they can ) nor do we deny that 
 such is sometimes the case : though it cer- 
 tainly seems unjust and uncharitable to sup- 
 pose that every young girl who makes what 
 the world calls a brilliant jjar^z^ is mercenary 
 enough to do so merely to possess riches and 
 consequence. 
 
 Colonel Selwyn became afraid that^ if Miss 
 Selby could ever be prevailed on to marry Mr. 
 Eead^ he must give up all hopes of finding a 
 woman whom he could love deeply enough to 
 make her his wife. Great was his delight there- 
 fore at hearing at his club^ in London^ that 
 Mr. Read had left town : it was confidently 
 asserted^ because he had been refused by a 
 certain heiress^ — that he was '^ cm cUsespoir^^ — 
 quite wretched^ — that his uncle feared he was 
 going melancholy mad : in shorty that never 
 had a young man been seen in such a sad 
 state. Colonel Selwyn listened with great
 
 134 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 attention while he heard this account from 
 one of his friends who was lounging* in the 
 club y and hope beat hig-h in his breast at the 
 thoughts of succeeding- where another had 
 failed. He was deliberating* whether he 
 would not go that very evening* to Grosvenor- 
 street^ and had scarcely made up his mind^ when 
 the note was brought to him that Lady Anne 
 had written the memorable evening" of Mr. 
 Read proposing* to her niece. He instantly 
 determined to g'o to Grosvenor-street and see 
 how matters stood^ for her ladyship had merely 
 stated that some unpleasant occurrence had 
 happened^ and that she wished much to con- 
 sult him, as being- an old friend. 
 
 The whole day had been dull and rainy, 
 and the streets were now covered with mud. 
 The smoke hung* so heavily over the town, 
 that it seemed almost impossible to breathe ; 
 not a breath of air was to be met with even 
 in the park, and the rain beg*an to fall in 
 torrents as Colonel Selwyn turned his steps 
 from the Junior United Service Club towards 
 Grosvenor-street. However, with his military 
 cloak, he cared but little whether it rained or
 
 HARDEN HALL. 135 
 
 not : besides^ his anxiety to reach Grosvernor- 
 street prevented his thinking- much about it. 
 When he arrived there he became painfully 
 anxious : he saw that the shutters were shut 
 at No. 46^ and the whole house appeared 
 deserted. After ringing- the bell^ and waiting 
 what seemed to him a long* tune (so great was 
 liis impatience)^ the door was opened by a 
 servant-maid; who^ in reply to his inquiries 
 after Lady Anne Lyndsay — whether she was 
 at home ? where she had gone ? when she re- 
 turned ? repeated in a hasty^ hurried manner^ — 
 answered; '' That she was sure she could not 
 tell where her ladyship had gone^ unless it 
 was to see Mrs. Selby; — that Mrs. Stocky the 
 housekeeper^ had gone out; and she had no 
 notion where her ladyship was gone 3 — that 
 Miss Selby went aAvay the day before^ she 
 believed; to Windsor." 
 
 As Colonel Selwyn turned on his heel to 
 return to his solitary dinner; he had plenty of 
 time to ruminate over these disagreeable 
 tidings ; and felt firmly persuaded that Mr. 
 Eead must have been finally refused; or they 
 would never have taken their departure from
 
 136 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 town so abruptly. But why Miss Selby 
 should g'o to Windsor^ instead of returning- 
 with Lady Anne to her father and mother^ he 
 could not account for satisfactorily to himself. 
 He racked his brain to recollect if there were 
 any relations that he had ever heard Mrs. 
 Selby mention as living* at Windsor ; but all 
 without success : he could not remember one. 
 By this time he had reached the club^ having* 
 fully made up his mind to dine by himself; 
 however^ it being* the height of the season^ he 
 fell in with numerous friends^ and being* a 
 general favourite^ was soon persuaded to join 
 a large party. Politics^ as usual^ were dis- 
 cussed the greater portion of the time ; and^ 
 as a matter of course^ the part which her 
 Majesty had taken in a certain transaction 
 was likewise talked over. 
 
 Selwyn then heard that the Queen was 
 gone to Windsor for a fortnight for change of 
 air; and one of the gentlemen present men- 
 tioned^ merely as a passing thing (not in the 
 least aware that it could be a matter of con- 
 sequence to any of the company present)^ that 
 Miss Selby, the new maid of honour^ had gone
 
 HARDEN HALL. 137 
 
 with lier Majest}'. Colonel Selwyn started 
 when he heard this name ; hut^ commanding' 
 his Yoice^ asked who this Miss Selb}^ was. 
 
 He received for answer from Mr. C _, that 
 
 ^^ she was a niece of Lord Newport's^ and of a 
 certain ag'e : older than the Queen : very plain^ 
 I understand/' continued his informer — '^ not 
 that I have seen her myself^ hut this is what 
 I hear.'' 
 
 Colonel Selwyn could hardly forbear laugh- 
 ing' to hear such a description of one who^ in 
 truth^ was younger than her Majesty^ and 
 certainly anything hut plain. ^^But what 
 then/' he replied to his friend's remarks^ 
 ^^ could have been the inducement to have 
 made her a maid of honour?" 
 
 This nobody could tell^ excepting- that the 
 Queen had been intimate with many of her 
 family ] and her friends being all poor^ it was 
 a great point for her to get four hundred 
 pounds a year. Nothing more passed on the 
 subject ; and dinner being over^ Colonel 
 Selwyn was left to his own reflections. It 
 seemed so strange to him^ that a young girl^ 
 who herself had told him a week before that
 
 138 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 she knew no one, and had scarcely been out 
 at all, should all of a sudden be placed in such 
 an elevated position. 
 
 He now began to consider seriously that 
 his chance of success was small : he felt sure 
 that she was for ever taken out of his reach. 
 He knew that people are very apt to change 
 with a chanofe of fortune. But the moment the 
 idea entered his head, he strove to banish it^ 
 determined to wait the course of events ; very 
 unwilling to give up all hope, faint as it was, 
 of ever gaining- possession of the fair Catherine.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 139 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 We must now return to that mornino* on 
 which Mr. Selwyn had been so disturbed by 
 Mr. Eead's sudden appearance. 
 
 The steaming' urn had m.ade its appearance 
 in the dining'-room^ in 46_, Grosvenor-street^ 
 and the party were assembled for their morn- 
 ing* repast. Breakfast is often the most 
 sociable and agreeable of meals^ excepting- in 
 ver}' g-rand houses^ where the modern fashion 
 of havinof servants bustlino- about the room 
 completel}^ destro3's all ease and freedom. It 
 is not every one who cares to proclaim aloud 
 the chit-chat contained in a postscript^ when 
 the red-faced obsequious valet stands close to 
 a chair^ casting* a sly g'lance over the letter : 
 trying- to discover^ if possible_j the signature^ 
 and to whom the story alludes ; and with pre- 
 tended officiousness^ while handing* some rolls.
 
 140 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 as you turn over the last sheet; he sees the 
 signature at the hottom^ and so gets a clue 
 to the whole conversation. Such was not the 
 case^ however^ at Mr. Lyndsay's breakfast- 
 tahle. His grand-daughter presided at the 
 tea-table^ arranged the toast so as to be 
 within reach of both grandpapa and grand- 
 mama^ and then^ when every thing was pre- 
 pared; and grandpapa was deeply engaged 
 in his newspaper^ ran gently upstairs to 
 tell Lady Anne her morning repast was 
 ready. She never neglected one single 
 morning this task; and; though often weary 
 and tired from the preceding night's dis- 
 sipatiou; never for one moment thought of 
 giving way to idleness^ and allowing her 
 grandmother to have the trouble of making 
 breakfast : though the latter frequently urged 
 her to do sO; saying; that if she had not been 
 present; of course that would have been her 
 duty. 
 
 ^^ That may be the casC; granny 3 but then 
 you are not so dissipated; and do not sit up 
 till three o'clock seeing a wild girl dance about." 
 
 The breakfast; however; that morning proved
 
 HARDEN HALL. 141 
 
 rather a melancholy one; for directly Mr. 
 Lyndsay had returned to town and heard how 
 matters stood with Mr. Read^ he decided it 
 would be far better to leave London at once : 
 that^ as Catherine was g'oing* into waiting- the 
 next day^ he and Lady Anne should also start 
 at the same time and pay his daug-hter a visit. 
 They had hardly arranged this plan^ when 
 a command came from her Majesty^ desiring- 
 them to attend her with Miss Selby. The 
 Queen had returned to Windsor for the next 
 fortnight at least; and that afternoon they 
 were en route for the royal abode. Catherine 
 was indeed astonished to find with what little 
 regret she left London : she had been so an- 
 noyed both by Mr. Eead's proposal and persecu- 
 tion of her^ that although^ with this exception^ 
 everything had gone off well^ she felt it rather 
 a relief to quit the gay metropolis. Again^ 
 she did not feel quite comfortable at the 
 thought of going into waiting for the first 
 time : she was nervous^ and had a thousand 
 inquiries to make with respect to Avhat would 
 be required of her. Yet it was the greatest 
 possible comfort to think that she should have
 
 142 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 Mr. Lyndsay and Lady Anne with her the 
 first week: for her Majesty had, with her 
 usual consideration for the feeling's of others, 
 commanded them to accompany their g-rand- 
 daug-hter on a risit to the castle. They were 
 delighted at this mark of affection from their 
 sovereig-n, whom they had known from a 
 chUd. 
 
 The first evening- little occurred worthy of 
 notice j there were the usual number of gran- 
 dees at dinner, and the usual quantity of 
 stiffness and formality: although the Queen 
 herself conversed with those who sat near her. 
 Catherine was aware that it was not becoming" 
 in her to take an active part in conversation : 
 indeed, she felt little inclination to converse. 
 Lord Fleetwood sat next her, with his wife 
 exactly opposite 3 and she never met this man 
 without a sensation of pain, ang-er, and g*rief 
 that almost suffocated her. But in the present 
 larg*e party she saw how necessary it was for 
 her to hide such feeling's ', and if a slig-ht 
 tremor came over her as she answered 
 his lordship, yet it was so trifling- as to 
 be scarcely perceptible. She got through
 
 HARDEN HALL. 143 
 
 the dinner pretty well; when^ on a sudden, 
 immediately after the dessert had been placed 
 upon the table, Lord Fleetwood turned to 
 Catherine and said, in the most indifferent 
 way possible, — 
 
 '^ Pray, Miss Selby, where is your sister ? 
 I have not heard of her for ag'es.'^ 
 
 The colour fled from Catherine's cheeks as 
 she heard these words ; she had the g-reatest 
 difficulty in suppressing* all outward sig'ns of 
 emotion, but said in a low voice, which 
 sounded more sad from its forced calmness, — 
 '' I did not believe that even you could have 
 insulted my sister's memory, Lord Fleetwood. 
 She was freed from all earthly care and trouble 
 last year/' 
 
 It was now his turn to look agitated and 
 annoyed: but the next minute he turned 
 round to another g-entleman, saying-, with a 
 light laug"h, ^^Well, how did the mare g'O 
 to-day?" 
 
 Catherine was deeply shocked at such heart- 
 lessness ; but was spared further conversation 
 with him by her Majesty rising" from table. 
 She had derived great pleasure from being- in
 
 144 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 company with the g-reatest hero of the day, — 
 the immortal Welling'ton. From childhood, 
 she had learned to venerate him as the saviour 
 of her country : she dwelt with proud pleasure 
 on the many glorious events of his past life, 
 and was rejoiced to find that he met with that 
 universal respect from all the company which 
 was so justly his due. 
 
 As Catherine g'azed on her youthful Sove- 
 reig'n, and heheld her animated and benign 
 countenance, she felt g'rieved that one so 
 amiable should have been subject to that 
 abuse, which, even in those early days of her 
 reig'n, some had not hesitated to lavish upon 
 her Majesty. 
 
 The rapidity of thoug-ht is one of the most 
 astonishing" parts of our mental powers. In 
 an instant of time thoug-ht has rang-ed to 
 distant lands, to other shores j it carries us 
 back to our childhood 3 we live ag-ain throug-h 
 many a scene of youthful enjoyment and of 
 youthful pain ; the long-lost but once familiar 
 face starts up before our mental vision with a 
 vividness and a clearness that may perhaps 
 give to frail man some faint conception of the
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 145 
 
 powers with which he was created^ and may 
 convey a faint idea of that superior, — that 
 perfect bliss which awaits him hereafter. 
 
 Nothing' occurred to disturb the equanimity 
 of our Catherine's first evening* in the presence 
 of royalty, till, towards the close of it, she 
 perceived Lord Fleetwood was quite close to 
 her : and she never could hear those light 
 merry tones without a pang" — without such a 
 feeling' of dislike as scarcely enabled her to 
 shoAV common civility to his lordship. She 
 lonofed to tell him how well his real character 
 was knowTi to her; how well she knew his 
 powers of conversation, his want of principle 
 and honour : and, thouo'h the idea of meetino* 
 him continually rather marred her pleasure 
 at being" in the household, yet, on the whole, 
 when she retired to rest that night, she was 
 very well satisfied that she should find her 
 appointment quite as agreeable as she had 
 anticipated. 
 
 The next morning*, about twelve o'clock, 
 she received a command to attend the queen, 
 w^hich she immediately obeyed, and found her 
 Majesty playing with some of Lady 's 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 children^ laug'hing- and talking* totliem as liappy 
 as possible. But she was not long* left in the 
 enjoyment of this innocent amusement^ for 
 business had to be attended to^ and audiences 
 to be given. Catherine looked with astonish- 
 ment^ as she saw the queen rise from playing* 
 with the children^ where she made herself 
 quite on a par with them^ and at once resume 
 the dignity so befitting* her station. It is not, 
 however, the purport of this humble tale to 
 describe all the every-day occupations of her 
 Majesty, but merely to give the reader some 
 faint idea of the amiableness of our youthful 
 sovereign. 
 
 Catherine could not fail to be charmed with 
 "Windsor — the most magnificent palace of 
 which Europe can boast. She AVas never 
 tired of accompanying Lady Anne to see the 
 pictures, the statues, and the exquisite chapel — 
 the richness of the decorations, the waving* ban- 
 ners, the light of day mellowed and softened 
 by the stained glass windows; and during 
 divine service, the rich melting tones of the 
 organ much enchanted our heroine. 
 
 The tomb of the Princess Charlotte was
 
 HARDEN HALL. 147 
 
 full of attraction to her. The early marriag-e and 
 premature death of that Princess cannot fail to 
 interest every one. The exquisite fig'ure of the 
 ano^-el waitino- to receive the soul when freed 
 from its earthly tenement : — so heavenly in its 
 expression j the dim lig'ht from the amber win- 
 dows — so disposed as to throw a glow round 
 the bending- form of the angel ', the palor of 
 death^ and the livid tinge depicted by the 
 artist on the dying* princess — show that this 
 design was the noble conception of a mind of 
 the highest stamp. If the tears of a whole 
 nation could have reanimated that beauteous 
 form^ it would not now have been mouldering 
 in the tomb , for the awful and unlooked-for 
 event — the death of one so young and of 
 such high destiny — drew tears from all eyes. 
 It was an All-wise^ an inscrutable judgment^ 
 far above mortal ken. Religious and amiable 
 as this Princess was^ she was doubtless taken 
 from ^^ much evil to come *" and her memory 
 ■will be revered as long as virtue shall com- 
 mand admiration. 
 
 After duly extolling- the softened beauties 
 of the chapel^ admiration was again called 
 
 L 2
 
 148 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 forth^ of a sterner kincl^ by the round tower, 
 the strong defences^ the snnple g-randeur of 
 the whole pile of building-: but from these 
 contemplations Miss Selby was frequently 
 aroused to attend the royal cavalcade on 
 horseback. The beauty of the forest, the 
 venerable oaks arching* far above their heads, 
 excited her warmest admiration ; the variety 
 of scenery round the royal abode daily called 
 forth new and reiterated applause from one so 
 keenly alive to the beauties of nature. She fully 
 appreciated the many advantages to be derived 
 from her new appointment, and by her amiable 
 cheerfulness won from all esteem and love. 
 
 After remaining at Windsor two nights, 
 Mr. Lyndsay and Lady Anne took their leave, 
 and Catherine felt very wretched at losing 
 them ; for this was the first time in her life that 
 she had been left alone amonsfst strano-ers. 
 However, she had already formed a friendship 
 with the lady who was then in waiting with 
 herself, and hoped to become better acquainted 
 with her. 
 
 She had almost ceased to torment herself 
 about Mr. Read, and had quite forgotten all
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 149 
 
 about Colonel Selwyii^ when one day she re- 
 ceived a letter from Mr. Eead^ ag-ain making* 
 a proposal to her — ag*ain urging- his suit in 
 the strongest terms^ and concluded hy saying, 
 that if Miss Selby would not consent to marry 
 him^ she would have to answer for his life. 
 Tliis threat rather alarmed Catherine 3 though 
 she laughed heartily at the beginning of the 
 letter. She instantly enclosed it to her father, 
 begging' him to answer it — to say, that she 
 still remained exactly of the same mind, and 
 therefore must decline the honour of his hand y 
 and to add, that if any more letters arrived 
 they would be returned unopened. Most 
 happy was it for her that she remained firm 
 to her first determination. Had she possessed 
 the least clue to suspect what the reader knows 
 to be the case — could she but have imagined 
 the wickedness of Mr. Read, she would not 
 merely have ridiculed his attentions, but have 
 loathed his very name. 
 
 She was sitting one day with her friend 
 
 Miss , when the conversation turned on 
 
 what she had seen and done in London 3 and, 
 mentioning Lady Julia Head's ball, her friend
 
 150 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 exclaimed^ ^^Why^ are you that Miss Selby 
 who everybod}'- said was to marry Mr. Eead's 
 nephew^ that horrid spendthrift ? I never can 
 believe that you liked him.'' 
 
 '^ Nor is there the least occasion that you 
 should do so/' replied Catherine^ laug-hing-. 
 ^^ I cannot tell you how the report g'ot about 3 
 but all I know is^ that^ being* cousin to Lady 
 Julia Eead^ she asked Lady Anne Lyndsay 
 to take me to her ball^ and afterwards cha- 
 peroned me herself to Almack's ] where I 
 danced^ naturally enough^ the first dance with 
 this detestable nephew. I then expressed my 
 wish to return to Lady Julia^ but she was 
 nowhere to be found^ and for the next three 
 dances I was wretched : g-lued to Mr. Eead. 
 Not knowing" a creature^ there was no pos- 
 sibility of my escaping- from him j and he 
 pretended all the time to be seeking for Lady 
 Julia. Though now I have not the smallest 
 doubt but that it was all a preconcerted and 
 pre-arrang-ed plan between Lady Julia and 
 her nephew^, to make me appear in the eyes of 
 the world as flirting' with the latter : though 
 Heaven knows^ nothing was further from
 
 HARDEiV HALL. 151 
 
 my intention. Well " continued Catherine, 
 ^^ after the first three dances^ I positively 
 insisted on Mr. Eead finding- his aunt ; and 
 he did so 3 but before I could pour out any 
 complaints to her^ she introduced me to a 
 Colonel Selwyn^ a g-reat friend of my mother's. 
 Ah ! she is an artful^ clever woman : she saw 
 immediately that I was terribly put out and 
 annoyed^ and so thougdit it would clear up 
 the o-atherino- storm if she introduced me to 
 one whom I had seen as a cliild^ thougdi I 
 had not the slio-htest recollection of him. 
 But you must be weary of my long* story.'' 
 
 ^^No, point de toiit,^ replied her friend, 
 g*aily ; ^^ so pray g'o on^ and let me hear what 
 became of your loving' swain." 
 
 Catherine therefore continued, and told 
 her what Colonel Selwyn had said respecting" 
 the report in the paper as to her marriag'e, 
 and about Mr. Read fancying* her an heiress, 
 of his proposing- afterwards, and her refusal. 
 
 She did not scruple to tell Miss the 
 
 wdiole history, for she knew it had been much 
 discussed in public, and therefore Avished her 
 to know the real state of the case ; and she
 
 152 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 could feel no compunction at malving" known 
 Mr. Read's character since he had hehaved so 
 ill to her. She had not finished her account of 
 him many minutes when Miss said^ ^^ In- 
 deed ! you have had an escape^ Miss Selb}^^ for 
 I have heard from my mother that Mr. Read 
 is a most proflig-ate man — a complete roue. 
 There was some awkward report^ mama said 
 she remembered hearing*^ a few years ag'o^ 
 about him and a Spanish lady : but I never 
 was informed of the particulars — whether he 
 ever did marry '^ 
 
 ^^ Marry her! 'No, of course not. Why, 
 here he is proposing- to me !'' 
 
 Without noticing* this little interruption^ Miss 
 
 continued to say, that he was ver}^ much 
 
 despised and disliked by other men * and that 
 her brother always cautioned her against his 
 charms : thoug'h such precautions were need- 
 less on his part, as she had never fancied 
 him. ^^ I think/^ she added, ^^ we must be 
 speaking" of the same person. He has a slight 
 cast in the eye — which does not, however, pre- 
 vent his being good-looking — and is minus a 
 finger on the left hand, as my brother used to 
 say.''
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 153 
 
 ^^YeS; yes^ I have noticed both these de- 
 fects/' cried Catherine. ^* But what a detes- 
 table wretch he must be ! And this Spanish 
 affair : it is all a myster}- to me. One thing- is 
 certain^ that were I his first, his only love, 
 nothing- should induce me to become his bride : 
 he is very disagTeeable to me. But I do not 
 understand your hints about '^ 
 
 ^^ My dear, we will not try to understand : 
 it is much better we should not attempt it ) 
 for, from my brother's manner, I suspect this 
 rowing- swain of yours is an unprincipled, bad 
 man — by no means a proper subject of con- 
 versation for two young* creatures like our- 
 selves f and she smiled gaily at Catherine. 
 The latter, however, was distressed that 
 she should ever have attracted the attention 
 of such a man, spoke vehemently ag-ainst him, 
 and, starting- up from her seat, inquired if it 
 was too late for the post ? On being* told it 
 was so, she ag'ain sat down, resolving- to write 
 on the following* day to her father. 
 
 Miss then said she could g-ive such an 
 
 instance of Mr. Read's utter want of feeling* and 
 utter selfishness, as would put a climax to her
 
 154 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 friend's disgust. ^^ The nephew^ jjar excel- 
 lence^^ she continued^ ^^ as we will call him^ 
 had lost his father quite recently ) his mother 
 wrote hroken-hearted letters^ heseeching- him 
 to return to them. He preferred idling about 
 London; and; though he received still more 
 urgent letters^ resisted every kindly good 
 feeling, and allowed his father to expire with- 
 out even going near him." 
 
 ^^ How very dreadful ! How terrible will 
 be his remorse when awakened to a sense 
 of his undutifulness ! He is really too detes- 
 table ! And to imagine that I should have 
 ever gained the affections of such a man ! 
 And yet/' she continued^ in a lighter tone, 
 and her countenance brightening as she 
 spoke, ^^ he sought me not for my own 
 sake, but because he fancied I was a great 
 heiress. A friend of mine overheard him say, 
 on that memorable evening at Almack's, that 
 at last he had caught an heiress ! Horrid 
 man ! he was sadly deluded ) for, as you well 
 know, I do not, nor ever shall possess any 
 fortune." 
 
 ^^ But they say a charming woman is a
 
 HARDEN HALL. 155 
 
 fortune^ you know^ in herself/' said Miss 
 
 J in a g-ay^ lively tone. After a little 
 
 more lig'lit conversation and laug-hter^ tliey 
 separated for the nig-ht. Catherine felt deeply 
 thankful that she had been preserved from 
 much unknown wretchedness^ if not g'uilt^ by 
 so decidedly refusing- Mr. Eeadj the real state 
 of the ease never once occurred to her pure 
 mind.
 
 156 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 Catherine's first act next morning* was in- 
 diting- a long' letter to her father^ g'i^i^g" ^ii 
 
 account of all Miss had said relating* to 
 
 Mr. Read. She confessed herself totally at a 
 loss to conceive what he had done^ but reite- 
 rated her friend's assurances that he was con- 
 sidered a very profligate good-for-nothing" 
 young' man by her brother^ a person of whom 
 every one spoke well. She added^ that there 
 was some story about a Spanish lady ; but she 
 was acquainted with no particulars. Cathe- 
 rine wrote warmly^ for she felt much annoyed 
 at the whole affair 3 and the bare idea of 
 one who was spoken of so lightly having- 
 attempted to gain her affections^, excited her 
 highest indignation. Her flushed cheek and 
 flashing- eye^ as she penned this epistle.
 
 HARDEN HALL. lo7 
 
 showed how much it moved her. She con- 
 cluded hy entreating" her father to prohibit all 
 further intercourse between herself and Mr. 
 Read^ and after expressing- her unconquerable 
 aversion to him (even before hearing- these dark 
 inuendoes) closed and sealed her letter. 
 
 There is somethino- soothino- and calmino- 
 in thus unburdenino- the mind of its various 
 thoughts to one who is sure fully to appre- 
 ciate all that is excellent in one's self, and to 
 advise with g-entle kindness what path should 
 be next pursued. However indignant the 
 feelings may be that are excited^ still it is 
 very disaOTeeable to see ano-rv words com- 
 mitted to writing' j so that^ imperceptibl}^ to 
 one's self, the an^fer that has been concealed 
 in one's own breast is softened and subdued. 
 
 Catherine felt that her character was so 
 dissimilar^ so unsuited to Mr. Read^ that the 
 hope of obtaining money must have been his 
 sole aim — money^ which there was but little 
 probability she would ever possess. 
 
 Before seeing the effect produced upon Mr. 
 Selby by the receipt of this letter^ we must
 
 158 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 give our readers a slig'ht sketch of his his- 
 tory^ — for hitherto he has remained in the 
 background of our tale. They will remember 
 that I mentioned he was young when he 
 married Miss Lyndsay : having only comj)leted 
 his tAventy-fourth year^ and having just been 
 presented by his uncle to the living of Tor- 
 rington^ vacant by the death of the late much 
 respected Rector. It requires no small degree 
 of moral courage in the younger sons of 
 noblemen to enter the church ; for^ generally 
 speakings they have been brought up with 
 much the same luxuries as the eldest sons — 
 accustomed to have carriages^ and horses^ and 
 doo^s at their command : such had been the 
 case with Arthur Selby. Till he was seven- 
 teen^ no difference or distinction had ever 
 
 been made between him and Lord B ^ his 
 
 eldest brother: they shared all their sports 
 together^ and never were two brothers more 
 united. But the time was arrived for the 
 3^ounger one^ who was destined neither to 
 inherit a fine place nor an independent for- 
 tune^ to turn his thoug'hts to some profession. 
 It was left entirely to himself^ whether it
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 159 
 
 should be the churchy the n^yy, the army^ or 
 the law. His mother inclined to the iirst^ 
 for she had always wished to see her favourite 
 son Arthur^ a clergyman. His eldest brother 
 wished him to g'o into the Guards^ as then they 
 would be more together than if Arthur was set- 
 tled in some quiet out-of-the-Avay country place. 
 This was too important a question to be de- 
 cided at a moment's notice; so Arthur had a 
 month given him to make up his mind. And 
 he has frequently since been heard to say^ 
 that that was the greatest trial he had ever 
 known. His own inclinations leaned towards the 
 church, but then came the thouo-hts of leavino- 
 and being" so much away from his beloved brother^ 
 from whom^ as yet^ he had never been sepa- 
 rated even for a da}' : he had alwa3's shared his 
 jo3^s and his pleasures_, and he was perfectly 
 aware that^ in the eyes of the world^ there 
 would be a g-reat difference between Lord 
 Newport's eldest son^ residing- in the finest 
 
 place in shire^ and the young-est in a small 
 
 parsonage in a retired country living. It was 
 a severe trial for one so young : but after the 
 fii'st fortnight^ after having had a great deal
 
 160 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 of conversation with both of his parents^ the 
 church was decided on. In vain did his eldest 
 brother entreat and beg* of him not to give 
 a final answer till the end of the month. 
 
 For the first time in his life^ Arthur felt he 
 
 could not comply, and though Lord B 
 
 was deepty grieved, yet he loved his brother 
 too well to urg'e what he saw was dis- 
 ag-reeable to him. So quickly Avere all the 
 arrangements made, that by the end of 
 the month it was settled that Arthur should 
 immediately proceed to Mr. Bower's, in Kent, 
 to read for colleg^e. The parting was most 
 affectionate between the two brothers 3 and 
 Arthur felt, when he said Adieu to his brother, 
 that all his pleasure was gone. They agreed, 
 however, to keep up a regular correspondence 
 with each other. 
 
 Arthur proceeded on his journey to Kent. 
 It was the first time he had ever seen that 
 beautiful part of England ; and gradually he 
 became more cheerful, and was enabled to 
 talk to his father, who accompanied him, with 
 tolerable composure. The hops were in gTeat 
 beauty; and the rich festoons of flowers that
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 161 
 
 hung- from pole to pole^ excited the admiration 
 of both our travellers. Had they been one 
 week later^ they would have missed this beau- 
 tiful sig-ht^ for the blossom was quite ripe^ and 
 ready to be gathered : indeed^ in some places^ 
 they had already beg'un ) and the picturesque 
 gTOups of children^ and men and women with 
 baskets and carts^ added much liveliness and 
 beauty to the whole scenery. Passing* by 
 Knowle^ Arthur expressed a great wish to see 
 it; for he knew it Avas reckoned one of the 
 finest places in England : but the family 
 beino- in o-reat distress at the dano-erous 
 illness of one of its members^ it was not 
 shown, so he was oblio-ed to content himself 
 with looking at it from the road. When they 
 reached Sevenoaks^ Arthur began to get rather 
 fidgetty^ for he knew that Mr. Bower lived only 
 a few miles from this place, and most heartily 
 wished himself back again at his own home. 
 His father entered, with great warmth, into 
 all his feelings, and began describing to his 
 son the place, and the people he would meet 
 at Milton; and, as he looked at him, he felt 
 proud at having such a son to produce before 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 strang-ers. Arthur was^ indeed^ remarkably 
 handsome and unusually manl3'-lookmg'^ for 
 his ag-e. He was about six feet hig*h ^ and 
 thoug'h he had rather outgrown his strength, 
 still there was something very striking about 
 him. The high forehead^ straight nose^ full 
 and dark hazel eyes, — shaded b}^ the blackest 
 eye-lashes^ — a fine set of teeth^ and quantities 
 of blacky curling hair^ made the tout ensemble 
 extremely pleasing* added to which, he had 
 the most delightful expression : candour and 
 openness were stamped on his brow ^ while his 
 mouthy displa3dng' great sweetness, tempered 
 with firmness, made the most favourable im- 
 pression upon all who saw him. His brother 
 was particularly proud of his appearance : 
 this was the more generous, as Arthur 
 possessed all those exterior advantages which 
 nature had denied to himself. But nothing 
 gave him such pure, unmixed delight, as to 
 hear the praises which Arthur's generous 
 disposition^ kindness of manner, and beauty 
 of person, excited from all who approached 
 him. 
 
 B}^ the time Lord Newport had finished his
 
 HARDEN HALL. 163 
 
 description of the persons with whom Arthur 
 was to live for the next twelvemonths^ they 
 had heg'im ascending- the hill_j which leads to 
 Milton : it was steep^ and the country round 
 beautifully Avooded. The sun ^Aas shining- 
 brig*htly_, and all looked the abode of peace 
 and quiet : the surrounding- landscape was 
 spread out before them like a map. White- 
 washed cottao'es were seen risino- amono-st 
 the trees ; and^ at the distance of every two 
 or three miles^ appeared the grey church 
 towers — the landmarks for succeedino- ao;es — 
 the only thino^s which remained unchano-ed 
 and unaltered. As Arthur o-azed on this 
 lovely view^ backed by the noble woods of 
 Knowle, he turned to his father_, and g-azing* 
 earnestly in his face^ as if he would read his 
 very soul^ said, in a Ioav voice^ which trembled 
 wdth emotion^ while he devoutly pressed his 
 father's hand^ ^^ My father ', this is^ indeed^ a 
 lovely scene. And God g-rant that I may learn 
 to be grateful to Him^ for placing- me among-st 
 such scenes as these ; which must elevate and 
 improve my thoug-hts. But^ oh ! my father/' 
 he continued^ with deeper emotion^ ^Hiow sad 
 
 31 2
 
 164 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 it is to think^ that it is man alone who makes 
 this beautiful world a barren wilderness; by 
 giving* way to hatred^ ill-will^ and anger. If 
 I can but live to be ordained, no efforts of 
 mine shall be wanting to try and make people 
 good and happy. Besides/^ he continued, in 
 a gayer tone, ^^ I shall have your and my 
 mother^s example, to guide me in the way 
 which is right." 
 
 Lord Newport pressed his darling boy 
 warmly to his heart, and could not bring* 
 himself to damp such bright hopes : though 
 he felt he was g-etting old and infirm, and, 
 in all probability, could not expect to live 
 many years, to see his son realize his good 
 intentions. 
 
 They had now reached the top of the hill, 
 and called to the postboy to stop, that they 
 might take a view of the village. It was 
 rather a large place, with a long, irregular 
 street. The houses were high, on a bank, 
 and rough stone steps led from each into 
 the road ', they all seemed to be surrounded 
 with gardens. At the further end, Arthur 
 perceived, what he rightly conjectured was
 
 HARDEN HALL. 165 
 
 the Eectory. It stood lo\v_, in a neat looking-, 
 old-fashioned garden, with neatly cut hedges , 
 and the gahled ends peeped out, from among* 
 some fine, old, horse chesnut trees, which grew 
 near the house on one side ; while on the other 
 some poplars and apple trees appeared. But 
 what principally arrested their attention was 
 the church, prettily situated on a rising ground, 
 ahout a hundred yards from the Rectory. It 
 was huilt in a cruciform shape, and in a much 
 more ornamental style than is common in 
 country villages. Some shining ivy was 
 growing luxuriantly up part of the old tower, 
 mingling its deep green leaves with the red 
 foliage of the American woodbine ; and, after 
 encircling the tower, the ivy seemed to have 
 attached itself to the porch, and hung' in irre- 
 gular festoons over the dark oak door. 
 
 The sun shone brightly on this fair scene ; 
 and for some moments both our travellers 
 were lost in admiration. Lord Newport at 
 length exclaimedj ^^ Is it not wonderful that 
 the English should be so blind to the beauties 
 of their native land ? — should go on spending 
 millions abroad, and persist in saying there is
 
 166 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 nothing- worth looking at in their own country ? 
 They may search the whole Continent over, 
 and they will not find one scene so calm, so 
 beautiful as this/' 
 
 The old nobleman spoke truly : for however 
 much we must all admire the sunny vineyards 
 of Italy, the snowy mountains and roaring" 
 waterfalls of Switzerland, the bright plains 
 and rich soil of ^^ la belle France 5" still, all 
 who have travelled abroad must acknowledge 
 that, go where you will, such highly cultivated 
 scenery, such an appearance of peace and 
 plenty, is nowhere met with as in England. 
 
 Crack went the postillion's whip, — and away 
 rattled the barouche up the high street of 
 Milton, to the no small astonishment of the 
 inhabitants, who came bustling out of their 
 cottages to see the sight : smart equipages 
 being in that village but rarely seen. A few 
 minutes more, and Arthur and his father were 
 at the door of the Rectory. 
 
 After the first awful introduction was over, 
 Arthur began to feel more at his ease. Mr. 
 Bower was apparently not more than thirty 5 
 of a gentlemanlike and pleasing appearance,
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 167 
 
 thoug-h seen under the disadvantag'e of specta- 
 cles y for he ^vas extremely near-sig'hted. He 
 appeared to wish to make his newly-arrived 
 pupil comfortable ; and talked kindl}' to 
 Arthur^ who soon heg*an to feel quite at his 
 ease. Mrs. Bower now entered : she was a 
 little^ bustling' woman; not vulg-ar by any 
 means; and looked the picture of good-humour. 
 
 After having" duly pressed her visitors to take 
 some luncheon^ which^ however^ they beg'g'ed 
 to decline^ she invited Arthur to go with her 
 into the garden^ and really appeared quite 
 smitten with his openness and good-humour. 
 She waS; in fact^ a most excellent creature; 
 and had it not been for an unfortunate pro- 
 pensity to fuss about trifles^ would have been 
 perfect. This^ however^ did not prevent her 
 being most agTeeable and chatty ; and Arthur 
 laughed and talked with her with the freedom 
 and cheerfulness of an old acquaintance. 
 
 In the meantime Lord Newport had been 
 talking to Mr. Bower^ saying how very anxi- 
 ous he was that his son should^ honourably 
 to himself^ pass an examination at College; 
 though^ for his own part; he felt these
 
 168 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 examinations were made a great deal too 
 strict and severe. He should have thoug-ht^ 
 that if instead of beings crammed with Greek 
 and Latin^ the young* students had been taug-ht 
 their duty as clergymen^ it would have been 
 much better. Stilly as the system of the day 
 was ^^ cramming ^^^ he beg-g-ed Mr. Bower would 
 advance his son as much as j^ossible. 
 
 The latter assured his lordship that no 
 effort on his part should be wanting-^ during* 
 the following' year^ to prepare his pupil for 
 entering* upon his colleg-e life. Soon after- 
 wards; Lord Newport took a most affectionate 
 leave of his son_, and returned home^ satisfied 
 with the choice he had made of his son's tutor. 
 
 Arthur felt sad and lonely after his father's 
 departure. He and his brother had been 
 broug-ht up entirely at home^ and this was the 
 first time he had ever found himself quite alone 
 among'st strang-ers. It matters little whether 
 one is seven or seventeen^ the first time of 
 leaving" all connected with '^ home^^ is perhaps 
 one of the bitterest trials we ever meet with : 
 the utter sense of desolation and loneliness 
 that seems to overpower every feeling* when
 
 HARDEN HALL. 169 
 
 the last sound of the retreatmg* wheels is 
 heard^ is perhaps as acute as any after sepa- 
 ration can possibly be. Arthur felt strong-ly 
 tempted to indulge in a flood of tears ; but he 
 struggled manfully against his emotion^ and 
 was able^ though with rather a choked voice^ to 
 thank Mrs. Bower for showino- him to his own 
 
 o 
 
 ^^ sanctum." When left quite alone^ his grief 
 burst forth 5 and with words mingled with 
 tears^ he knelt down and prayed that he 
 might be allowed to see his beloved parents 
 and his brother once more. 
 
 Scarcely had he risen from his knees when 
 he heard a soft knock at the door^ which was 
 opened by a pretty child^ who said^ if Mr. Selby 
 liked to come down^ the dinner was ready. 
 He instantly descended with his little com- 
 panion J not a little pleased to find that there 
 was something- young- about the house : for 
 he was passionately fond of children. Who 
 can look on the sweety innocent face of a 
 very young- child without loving* it^ and 
 secretly wishing that we could all retain 
 that simplicity and innocency which is the 
 chief charm of early childhood ? Alas ! how
 
 170 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 soon blighted are these fair blossoms! Before 
 they reached the drawing"-room door^ Arthur 
 had made great friends with little Agnes, 
 and she felt all fear of him vanish.
 
 HARDE>' HALL. 171 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 Arthur was not of that class who formed 
 their estimation of others according' to their 
 outward appearance. Many da3's had not 
 elapsed before he fully appreciated Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bower's kindness : their characters were 
 indeed irreproachable ; to which they added 
 that politeness and urbanity of feeling* towards 
 their young- pupil^ which effectually won his 
 open and confiding- heart. It was the first 
 time of their havino- such an addition to their 
 household 3 and it was purely from motives 
 of gratitude to Lord Newport's family that 
 Mr. Bower undertook this most arduous of all 
 tasks^ the education of his son. He was in 
 every respect well fitted for it; being* pre- 
 eminent as a classical scholar^ well versed in 
 modern literature, and havino; a natural flow 
 of good spirits^ which made him at all times
 
 172 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 a cheerful companion. As Arthur became 
 better acquainted with him^ he discovered the 
 vast extent of g'ood Mr. Bower did among-st 
 his poor peoj)le ', there was scarcely a peasant 
 in the village who had not experienced strong" 
 proofs of his goodness to them : but so quietly 
 and unostentatiously did he perform all his 
 acts of charity and kindness^ that it mig'ht be 
 truly said^ his right hand knew not what his 
 left was doing. 
 
 The morning after Arthur's arrival^ his 
 tutor thought it better to begin at once with 
 their studies; and Arthur was too deeply 
 impressed with the necessity of exertion to 
 wish for any delay : besides_, if employed^ his 
 thoughts would not wander so continually to 
 his homC; and yearn so much after his brother. 
 The regular routine soon ceased to be irk- 
 some to him, and he delighted Mr. Bower 
 with his steady application. The evenings 
 were spent in drawing and singing ; in both 
 of which delightful arts Mr. Bower was a 
 great proficient. This was a gTeat advantage 
 to Arthur, as it gave him a polished and 
 refined taste, and greatly enhanced his enjoy^
 
 HARDEN HALL. 173 
 
 ment of the beautiful scenery round Milton. 
 The days quickly slipped away : there was 
 nothing* to mark them^ all being- equally well 
 employed ^ and the monster ennui, the bane^ 
 and not unfrequently the ruin of so many^ was 
 unheard of. 
 
 Sunday was indeed a day of rest to the 
 whole family 3 at an earl}^ hour they were 
 all assembled at churchy which w^as well 
 filled by a hig'hly respectable cong-reg-ation. 
 The villag-e children sang*^ to a sweetly 
 toned org*an^ their hymns of praise. After 
 this duty was over^ the Rectory party returned 
 home to their cold dinner ) it being* the rule of 
 the house^ that no hot meat should be served 
 up on Sundays^ that the servants might not 
 be prevented from attending* divine service. 
 When the ordinary business of the Sabbath 
 was concluded^, they g-enerally walked out ; 
 and Mr. Bower took occasion to detail to his 
 pupil what the duties of a conscientious cler- 
 g-yman are. Thoug-h this topic frequently 
 formed the subject of their conversation^ it 
 was one w^hich never wearied Arthur; and 
 he frequently said to Mr. Bower^ that if he
 
 174 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 could but resemble liim^ he should be satisfied. 
 His kind tutor smiled^ and replied^ that there 
 was a much hig-her standard of perfection, 
 to which he must strive to attain ; but 
 hoped, that all his life, he would remember 
 that there was no one who had a higher 
 reg'ard for, or wished him more happiness, 
 than himself. 
 
 '^ Excepting' your wife,'' said Mrs. Bower, 
 smiling- ; ^^ and, as women's feeling's are always 
 stronger than those of men, so I feel more 
 attached than 3^ou can possibly do, to our heau 
 gargon^^ as she playfully called Arthur. 
 
 She was one of those brig-ht, happy people, 
 who create sunshine wherever they move : self 
 was always entirely forgotten ] and her only 
 thought was to make others cheerful and 
 happy. It is, indeed, astonishing' how much 
 one really sweet-tempered, pleasing* woman 
 can do, towards making- society ag-reeable, 
 and keeping- people in good humour one with 
 another. There are few people who can with- 
 stand the bright smile of one whose chief object 
 is to make others as happy and contented as 
 herself. It was not only amongst her equals
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 175 
 
 that Mrs. Bower was such a favourite^ — she 
 was equally beloved by all the poor: to all 
 and each she was invariably kind^ promoting- 
 the comfort of the ao-ed, and encourao'ino- the 
 amusements of the younger part of the com- 
 munity. She often declared^ that to her eyes 
 there could not be a more melancholy sight 
 than to behold crowds of neglected-looking 
 children idling- about the streets^ hearing* pro- 
 fane words. She had^ therefore^ prevailed on 
 her husband to purchase a small field near 
 their house^ which they gave up to the village 
 youngsters as a playground ; and the hap- 
 piness that this one little field bestowed on 
 hundreds of children is not to be told. 
 
 Evening' prayers concluded the peaceful day 
 at Milton Rector}- ; and as Arthur knelt dow^n 
 near the darling- little g'irl^ he felt deepl}' how 
 much he should have to answer for^ if^ after 
 enjoying such unusual advantag*es^ he did not 
 exert himself to the utmost to follow the 
 example and advice of his excellent preceptor.
 
 176 HARDEN HALL, 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 The summer quickly passed away^ and the 
 leaves fallings from the trees^ beg-an to tell of 
 wmter's approach. The swallows had taken 
 their departure for a more g'enial climate^ and 
 the wild fowl were beginning- to appear on the 
 banks of the river. Arthur looked forward 
 to the winter with feelings of the keenest en- 
 joyment ) skating' and shooting* he had always 
 been very fond of^ and Mr. Bower did not 
 object to his following- either of these amuse- 
 ments, in those hours which did not interfere 
 with his studies. 
 
 There ran near the house a deep, but slug*- 
 glish stream, which gTadually froze over, and 
 on which, ever since the severe frost set in, 
 Arthur had been in the constant habit of 
 skating", — never dreaming* of dang-er. One 
 morning-, to the joy of the farmers, the frost
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 177 
 
 was seen to be disappearing- : it was with very 
 different feeling's that Arthur saw the snow 
 melting- away^ and he was heartily g'lad when^ 
 released from his studies^ he was able to g*o 
 once more to the river and skate. 
 
 Mr. Bower had been called away from 
 home^ but his wife cautioned her young* friend 
 to be very careful^ and try the ice before he 
 ventured on it : thoug-h they neither of them 
 thoug-ht there could be any dang*er. AVhen 
 Arthur reached the river it looked to him 
 exactly as it had done every day for the pre- 
 ceding- weekj SO; without a moment's hesi 
 tatioU; he fastened on his skates and prepared 
 to g'lide over the smooth surface. He had not 
 advanced many yards when he found the ice 
 very rotten^ and beginning- to crack : fully 
 alive to the imminent dang"er of his situation^ 
 it flashed across him^ that unless he could, 
 by one vigorous eflbrt, retrace his course, he 
 must inevitably be lost; he used the most 
 strenuous efforts to return to the bank from 
 whence he had started, but all his exertions 
 were vain : the ice was g^iving- way in all 
 directions, and in he went. He felt the water 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 sucking- him under the ice. Giving" one loud 
 shout for help^ in case any one should be 
 within hearing'^ he tried to spring- to the 
 bank^ which was not more than four feet from 
 him • but his skates prevented him obtain- 
 ing- a firm hold on the slipper}^ bank^ and 
 he fell back into the water. All hopes of 
 saving' his life fled^, and he strove to collect his 
 thoug'hts_, and to turn them to that world to 
 which he believed himself fast hastening-. Not 
 many moments were allowed him for these 
 solemn thoug-hts^ a lump of ice which had 
 become detached from the main piece^ floated 
 ag-ainst his head^ and striking- him on the 
 temple^ produced insensibility. How long- he 
 remained in this state is uncertain ; but Mrs. 
 Bower^ finding- he did not return at the usual 
 hour^ became alarmed^ and sent out servants 
 to seek for him. On reaching- the edg-e of the 
 river^ they saw what they imagined to be the 
 corpse of poor Arthur Selby: he was lying- 
 with one arm stretched powerless by his side ; 
 the other clinging-^ with a death-like g'rasp, 
 to a branch of willow. Without a moments 
 hesitation^ Mr. Bower's faithful old servant
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 179 
 
 flew to his side, and^ at the peril of his life, 
 succeeded, with the gardener's help, in extri- 
 cating* poor Arthur from his perilous situation. 
 He g*ave no sig*ns of life; and thoug-h the 
 butler perceived that he still breathed, he 
 shook the tears from his old eyes as he looked 
 on the dying* form of this fine young- man. 
 B}' making* g-reat exertions, and straining* 
 every nerve, he contrived, with the g-ardener's 
 assistance, to carry poor Arthur home, — de- 
 spatched a boy for the medical man, and 
 hastened to Mrs. Bower, who was anxiously 
 expecting- their return, to tell her of the me- 
 lancholy state in which they had found her 
 poor young- friend. Her cheeks became of a 
 death-like hue, and her trembling* limbs almost 
 refused to do their office, Avhen she heard from 
 the faithful old man that he feared all their 
 care would be fruitless. 
 
 Hardly waiting* to hear the end, and sum- 
 moning- up all her courag'e, Mrs. Bower rushed 
 to Arthur's room, and reached it at the same 
 moment as did the g-ardener with his precious 
 burden. No words escaped her lips, but her 
 death-like calmness spoke even more plainly 
 
 N 2
 
 180 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 than words^ that to her there appeared but 
 little hope : — that life was nearly extinct. 
 Determined to let no means be spared of re- 
 storing- animation^ she instantly proceeded to 
 remove his clothes^ saturated with water- 
 rubbed his chest and arms with hot flannel^ 
 breathed into his mouthy and chafed his cold 
 hand in hers. Fortunately the doctor was at 
 home^ and soon made his appearance. He 
 shook his head desponding-ly when he saw 
 how deadly pale Arthur was^ and heard how 
 many hours had elapsed since he quitted the 
 house. Still while there is life there is hope , 
 and desiring* Mrs. Bower to despatch a mes- 
 senger instantly for her husband^ he pro- 
 ceeded to follow up the same methods of re- 
 covery which she had applied^ thoug-h with 
 more vigour. For above an hour the poor 
 patient gave no signs of returning life ; but 
 then^ to the inexpressible delight of the good 
 doctor^ he opened his eyes for a moment : the 
 lids soon closed over them again^ as if too 
 heavy to remain unclosed. But this sign of 
 returning animation^ slight as it was^ gave the 
 good doctor new hopes : and he again applied
 
 HARDEN HALL. 181 
 
 all the remedies witli sucli o-reat skill and 
 witli such g'ood effect^ that Arthur^ g'i^'i^ig' ^ 
 long--drawn sig*h^ opened his eyes. He seemed 
 to wish to speak^ but could not articulate a 
 word. His eyes appeared g'lassy and dull^ 
 and Mr. Jones did not feel at all sure that 
 it was returnino- consciousness : for some- 
 times a few minutes before the sleep of death 
 comes on slig-ht symptoms of animation appear. 
 Then again when he considered his fine un- 
 broken constitution he indulo-ed in brio-hter 
 hopes. 
 
 At this moment Mr. BoAver entered ; and if 
 ever deep ang-uish and sorrow were ^^lainly 
 engraven on man's countenance they were on 
 his. A few hours before^ he had left Arthur 
 in the full enjoyment of health and spirits ; 
 now he retm^ned to find him to all appearance 
 a corpse. Without giving' utterance to his 
 deep feeling's^ he descended the stairs to beg- 
 his wife to write a note to Lady ]N'e^^ort 
 immediately^ and went to procure a messen- 
 ger to g'o there express. He felt certain his 
 parents would not lose an instant in flying- to 
 their son when aware of his dano-er. He then
 
 182 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 returned with his wife to the sick chamber. 
 There was no alteration* and through the 
 whole nig'ht they watched Arthur as if he had 
 been their own son : they could not perceive 
 the slightest shade of improvement. But he 
 still breathed. Towards morning*^ however^ 
 a slight change was perceptible in his coun- 
 tenance^ and Mr. Bower^ who was watching 
 him most earnestly^ fancied he smiled. Hope 
 again returned^ that he might be spared : 
 but the smile passed away, and all became 
 as was before. It is a beautiful Irish super- 
 stition that when people smile in their sleep, 
 angels are whispering to them. The kind 
 nurses remained breathlessly still. 
 
 At seven o'clock the doctor arrived and said 
 the fever was abating, and desired the patient 
 might have a little nourishment if he could 
 possibly swallow it. Mrs. Bower's kind hand 
 prepared it for him, and prevailed on him to 
 take it. It seemed to revive him ; a slight shud- 
 der passed over him, after which, sighing 
 deeply, he opened his eyes. They did not now 
 close as the}^ had done the night before ; they were 
 fixed on Mrs. Bower, and seemed to inquire
 
 HARDEN HALL. 183 
 
 why she was there. She g-uessiiig- his thoug'hts_, 
 tenderly and g'ently told him he had been 
 very ill^ must be kept qiiiet^ and that she would 
 nurse him. He smiled ag-ain^ and seemed to 
 understand her * she smoothed his pillow_, and^ 
 taking* hold of his hand^ sat down to watch 
 over him ; and as Mr. Bower saw her affection 
 and kindness he felt what an inestimable 
 treasure he had found in such a wife. It was 
 some time before Arthur ag'ain moved^ and 
 then he murmured in a low voice^ ^' Where is 
 my mother? she always nursed me when I 
 was ill before^ and why am I not in my own 
 room?'' It was evident his mind was begin- 
 ning' to wander^ and it required all Mrs. 
 Bower's firmness to hear him ask why his 
 mother did not come to see him instead of 
 sendino- a nurse. 
 
 There is nothino- more distressino- — nothino^ 
 more sad than to see a person in a state of 
 delirium : it makes the very blood run cold^ 
 when the sufferers look at their dearest friends_, 
 and do not know them^ and ask_, in that hur- 
 ried manner which g'enerally accompanies the 
 malad}^^ for one who is perhaps at that instant
 
 184 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 soothing" their bed of sickness and pain^ by 
 every possible care and attention. 
 
 Towards the middle of the day^ Mr. Bower 
 began to listen most anxiously for Lord New- 
 port's arrival. He had left word in the villag-e^ 
 to beg- them to leave the carriag*e there, and 
 walk up to the Rectory ; for he thoug-ht ver}^ 
 possibly the noise of the carriag-e might dis- 
 turb his poor patient. He was looking out of 
 the window^ when he perceived his expected 
 guests hurrying' towards the house ; and^ 
 making a sign to his wife^ he left the 
 room^ with a noiseless step; for he knew 
 that the life of his adopted son depended 
 entirely on his beings kept perfectly quiet^ and 
 free from all excitement. He therefore begged 
 Lord Newport not to see him that day ; but to 
 suffer Lady Newport and Mrs. Bower to nurse 
 him. 
 
 ^^ Perfect quiet and repose is the only chance 
 he has of recovery/' said Mr. Bower ) '^ and as 
 he is delirious already^ he will not know you^ 
 and the sight of a third person may excite 
 him^ and make him feverish." 
 
 The truth of this was evident to all parties ]
 
 HARDEN HALL. 185 
 
 SO leaving' Lord Newport and liis son to them- 
 selves for a short time^ Lad}^ Newport hastened 
 up-stairs^ with Mr. Bower. 
 
 It was^ indeed^ a melancholy trial to this 
 g'ood^ fond mother^ to see her dearly-loved 
 child stretched on the bed of sickness — to hear 
 him call upon her name_, perfectly uncon- 
 scious of her presence — and to see his pale 
 cheek and sunken e3'e. She saw^ with one 
 glance^ how judicious and kind all Mr. Bower's 
 arrangements had been^ and how necessary it 
 was that he should be kept perfectly quiet ; 
 and her heart ached to think of what would be 
 the feelings of his pooi^ father^ if he could see 
 his son — the joy of his hearty the pride of his 
 life — in such a state as he was now in. But 
 she had^ before this^ witnessed such extra- 
 ordinary instances of recovery from the most 
 dreadful cases of illness^ that she could not 
 but feel some degree of hope ; for Arthur had 
 been always strong' and healthy : besides_, 
 he had the vig-our of youth on his side. 
 Devoutly imploring the Divine Giver of all 
 good to raise him from his bed of sickness^ 
 she proceeded to take her place by his side^
 
 186 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 and insisted on Mrs. Bower taking some rest. 
 This she would not consent to do^ till Lady 
 Newport positively insisted on her doing* 
 so; assuring- her^ that if there was the 
 slig'htest alteration^ she should he instantly 
 acquainted with it. She left this fond mother 
 to watch hy her son; and^ after reporting" 
 to the g'entlemen helow the state of their 
 patient^ she went to repose herself for some 
 hours^ desiring' that she mig-ht be awakened 
 at the end of that time. She did not hesi- 
 tate to take a little rest^ and to leave the 
 sick room; for she felt that^ very probabl}^^, 
 for many months she mig-ht be required to act 
 the part of a nurse. She well knew that it 
 was necessary to husband all her strength ; 
 for nothing" undermines the healthy and wears 
 the spirits of those who are unaccustomed 
 to nursing"^ as sitting--up at nig"ht. Besides^ 
 the leaving- him wdth his mother was very 
 different from leaving" him to the care of 
 servants. Stilly thoug-h she required rest so 
 much^ her anticipations of his death were so 
 strong" and painful^ that she lay^ turning- from 
 side to side^ quite unable to close her eyes^ till^
 
 HARDEN HALL. 187 
 
 perfectly exhausted^ she sunk into a broken^ 
 imrefreshing' sleep^ for a few hours. Being" 
 then^ bv her own orders^ awakened^ she 
 hastened to Arthur's room^ and perceived, 
 from Lady Newport's look, that there must 
 be some sliHit chano-e for the better. She 
 Stopped near the door, and heard him say, 
 in a low, weak voice, '' Mother, I think I see 
 you near me. What, are you here?^^ And 
 then her o-entle tones assured her son of her 
 being' close to him, and of her remaining- 
 with him till he was quite recovered. The 
 smile which then came over his face was 
 his own bright sunny smile ; and his 
 mother felt how hard it would be to part with 
 him, whose very smile seemed too bright for 
 this world. And yet she was conscious that 
 she might be called upon to do so ; as her 
 own dear mother had the same bright and 
 beautiful countenance, and she had been taken 
 from her many years. Arthur did not attempt 
 to speak for some little time, and then asked 
 for Tiny, as he called Mrs. Bower's lovely 
 little child. She gently told him her little 
 child was sent into the villa o-e.
 
 188 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 The doctor now ag'aiii made his appearance, 
 and seemed quite amazed at the improvement 
 his patient had made during- the last six 
 hours. He beg-g-ed Lady Newport would use 
 her influence with her husband to prevent his 
 seeing* his son for the next day. Mr. Jones 
 was a kind, g-ood man ; one of the many who, 
 much to their honour and credit, g'ive up 
 many hours every day to attend the poor 
 gratis. The g'ood he effected in the village was 
 untold : by whatever malady the poor were 
 attacked, if they chose to ask for his assist- 
 ance, it was freely given ; and never had he 
 been known to require payment for medicine 
 or attendance from any labouring person. For- 
 tunately for them, his circumstances were such 
 as to enable him to make this sacrifice. 
 
 Yes ! the medical profession is one of the 
 few in which the most skilful frequently devote 
 their time and money to benefit the poor. A 
 really sensible and skilful practitioner is an 
 invaluable resident in a country village 3 and 
 none was ever more deservedly respected, 
 valued, and looked up to than Mr. Jones. 
 He was a quiet, gentlemanlike person, and, as
 
 HARDEN HALL. 189 
 
 Lady Newport witnessed with what assiduit}- 
 he attended her son^ she felt satisfied that 
 neither herself nor her hushand could ever be 
 sufficiently g-rateful to him 3 if^ by his means^ 
 throug'h the blessing' of God^ her son was 
 restored to health. Promisino* to call ao-ain 
 that afternoon^ Mr. Jones took his leave.
 
 190 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Eon two weeks Arthur remained in such a 
 state that it was very doubtful whether he 
 would rally or not 3 then such decided symp- 
 toms of improvement were observable^ that the 
 whole family beg'an to entertain sang'uine 
 hopes of his recovery ', and after the lapse of 
 another fortnight^ he was so much better that 
 he was able to be carried down stairs. His 
 parents still remained with him ; and instead 
 of being" v^earied with such a long- illness^ if 
 possible^ Mr. and Mrs. Bower's kindness in- 
 creased. Althoug'h Arthur got every day 
 more impatient to be allowed to resume his old 
 habits^ still nothing could exceed the sweetness 
 of temper with which he bore all the restraints 
 imposed on him ; and to this^ in a great 
 measure^ his medical attendant attributed his 
 recovery.
 
 HARDEN HALL 191 
 
 At the end of two months from the time 
 the accident occurred^ he was able to be moved 
 by slow stages home. Mr. and Mrs. Bower 
 accompanied him ; for he could not bear to be 
 separated from these kind friends; so they 
 yielded to the urg-ent entreaties of his parents^ 
 and ag-reed to spend some time with them^ till 
 Arthur^ in fact^ was able to resume his studies. 
 March and April had passed away before he 
 was allowed to think of doing* so j but towards 
 the end of another month it was settled that 
 Arthur mio-ht return with his kind friends to 
 Milton. He still suffered from weakness^ and 
 his cheeks w-ere less blooming* than before his 
 accident; yet when his parents recollected 
 what he had g*one throug-h^ they could not but 
 rejoice at his present improvement^ and trust 
 that he might continue to g'ain strength. 
 
 After residing* at Milton another year^ he 
 was declared by his tutor sufficiently prepared 
 for the University^ and accordingly proceeded 
 to Oxford^ where he had been entered. He 
 never forgot the impression this first visit to 
 that magnificent city made on him : a city 
 which stands unrivalled in the number of its
 
 192 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 beautiful buildiiig-s. The view_, as you enter on 
 tlie London side^ is quite perfect. Four spires 
 and towers greet the strang-er's eye^ and as he 
 proceeds along- Hig-h-street^ passing- Univer- 
 sity and Queen's and All Souls' Colleg-es^ the 
 churches of St. Mary's and All Saints^ it is 
 impossible for him not to concur in the g-ene- 
 rally received opinion^ that there are very few 
 streets in the world that can be compared to 
 it: the diversity of building-^ the variety in the 
 styles of architecture^ with the fine trees of 
 Magdalen College throwing a deep shade 
 over the lower part of the street^ give it a 
 vastly different appearance from most of our 
 towns. 
 
 Lord Newport had been a fellow of All 
 Souls^ and lionized his son over the fine 
 building and the magnificent library with 
 great delight. The hall and library he fully 
 appreciated: the length (one hundred feet) 
 astonished him. As Lord Newport did not 
 remain many days in Oxford^ they passed all 
 their time in seeing the public libraries and 
 different colleges 3 and the old man was quite 
 as much pleased as his son at renewing his
 
 HARDEN HALL. 193 
 
 acquaintance with all these heautiful build- 
 ings. But it is not our intention to give a 
 detailed account of Mr. Selby^s life as an 
 Oxonian, it will suffice to say that he was 
 g-enerally esteemed, and passed both his ex- 
 aminations with flying* colours. He corre- 
 sponded with his former tutor, who continually 
 g'ave him the very best advice — advice which 
 he studiously endeavoured to follow. "What 
 had greatly enhanced the pleasure of his 
 college life, was that his brother had been at 
 the same time residing at the University; so that 
 a day seldom passed without their meeting. 
 
 AVe must now pass over a few years; 
 and then we shall find Mr. Selby in holy 
 orders, acting as curate to Mr. Bower ; who, 
 although he did not necessarily require his 
 assistance, yet was happy to give him some 
 employment, and superintend the commence- 
 ment of his clerical duties. He allowed him to 
 reside in his house as a nominal curate ; that he 
 might, before entering' upon the multifarious 
 occupations of a village priest, learn some 
 of the duties that would be required of him. 
 Arthur was very fond of Milton and the 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 194 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 whole of Kent^ and frequently declared that 
 if he had his choice^ he would rather live 
 there than in any county in England. 
 
 Two years had elapsed since his ordination^ 
 and he was spending- a few months in London 
 with his father and mother^ when circumstances 
 occurred which effected a complete change in 
 his future plans. He was one day eng-ag'ed in 
 reading- aloud to his mother^ when Lady Anne 
 Lyndsay and her daughter were announced. 
 He fancied they were merely common-place 
 acquaintances: not remembering the name. 
 He was quickly undeceived by his mother 
 jumping up and receiving them with open 
 arms^ and with the greatest cordiality^ and 
 then introducing him as her 37'oungest son. 
 The two mothers were soon engaged in con- 
 versation ', and Arthur_, feeling himself bound 
 to play the agreeable^ endeavoured to amuse 
 the young lady : but he soon discovered that 
 the longer the conversation lasted^ the more 
 he was charmed with her manner. He had 
 never^ he thought^ seen any one so fasci- 
 nating^ so lovely^ as she then appeared to 
 him. Her dress was so simple^ and elegant —
 
 HARDEN HALL. 195 
 
 white muslin^ trimmed with g-reen ribbon^ 
 and a laro*e leo-horn hat, with a lonof feather. 
 Her beautiful curls had escaped from under 
 the hat^ and were seen floating' down quite 
 to her shoulder. Miss Selby being- thin^ and 
 very tall^ the larg-e hat and long- feather were 
 most becoming'. 
 
 Arthur g-azed on her larg-e^ mild blue eyes 
 till he felt almost afraid of being- thought rude : 
 but not the smallest ting-e of pride or dis- 
 pleasure could he trace in that countenance^ 
 which looked the abode of peace and happiness. 
 
 After rather a lengthened visit^ Lady Anne 
 and her daughter took their leave. Arthur at- 
 tended them to the door^ and eagerly accepted 
 Lady Anne's offer of a seat in her box at the 
 opera that night. He had still all his boyish^ 
 youthful spirits ; and as his mother gazed upon 
 his bright and joyous face^ she felt that a 
 queen might have been proud of such a son. 
 She doated upon him^ — so did all his family. 
 Little Arthur was the pet of the whole house^ 
 fi-om his birth to the present time. The 
 youngest of a family must always be a dar- 
 ling ; even maiden ladies^ who are too much 
 
 2
 
 190 HAEDEX HALL. 
 
 taken up with their lap dog's and parrots to 
 reg*ard aug-ht hesides^ seldom see their 
 young-est nephew or niece without some feel- 
 ing" of pride and love.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 197 
 
 * CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 Arthur was particularly free from all gau- 
 cherie and mauvaise honte; there was a g-en- 
 tleman-like ease and freedom about liim^ 
 exceeding-ly attractive to all : especially to the 
 fair seX; by whom the respectfulness of his 
 manner was fully prized. He was to join 
 Lad}' Anne Lyndsay at half past eighty and 
 eag'erly awaited the arrival of the time. He 
 was as cheerful as usual at dhmer* and 
 he and his brother aiforded Lord and Lad}^ 
 Newport great amusement by relating' some 
 of their Oxford adventures. Stilly though this 
 was very agreeable^ Arthur could not help 
 fanc34ng that dinner lasted double the usual 
 time^ and that the old butler grew dilatory * 
 and once or twice he appeared so impatient^ 
 that his brother rallied him about it^ and 
 laughingly asked ^^ if he expected to meet any
 
 198 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 bella donna that evening- ? '' Arthur coloured^ 
 saying'^ Avith a g*ay smile^ '^ that lie was g'oing' 
 to the opera ; and as his acquaintance with it 
 was much less than that of his brother^ he felt 
 g-reat anxiety to g-et there and hear Catalani 
 ag'ain." ^^ Particularly/' added his brother^ 
 with a smile^ ^^ in company with such agreeable 
 people." He laug'hed; and they then talked 
 about indifferent subjects^ till at length — joyful 
 sound ! — the footman's voice was heard to say, 
 ^^ The carriage waits^ Mr. Selby.'' 
 
 ^^ Well then^ good-nighty my dear sir^ for I 
 shall not see you again to-night." 
 
 ^' I hope you will have a great deal of 
 enjoyment/' rej)lied his father * and rapidly 
 saying ^^ Good-nig'ht " to his mother and 
 brother^ he leaped into the carriage^ and soon 
 found himself at the opera. He had no diffi- 
 culty in finding Lady Anne Lyndsay's box ; 
 and on reaching the door^ he heard the tones 
 of a man's voice^ and the notes of Miss 
 Lyndsay's reply. 
 
 A transient feeling of jealousy and anger 
 shot through Arthur's breast ] for he had felt 
 so sure of being the only gentleman of the
 
 HARDEN HALL. 199 
 
 party^ that he was rather startled to find one 
 ah-eady there. Quickly^ however^ he con- 
 quered this feeling' j for a moment's reflection 
 reminded him that he was the merest ac- 
 quaintance of both mother and daug-hter. All 
 these thouo'hts crossed his brain as he entered 
 the door ', but then^ indeed^ his look was brig'ht 
 and joyous j for as Miss Lyndsay bent 
 eag'erly forward to catch the full tones of 
 the song*^ her face was shaded with her 
 dark^ rich curls^ which fell over a neck 
 of such whiteness as to rival the snow- 
 white muslin which enveloped her form. 
 The only ornament was some lilies of the 
 valley twisted in her hair. Such was her 
 appearance and attitude as Arthur entered 
 — so free from all affectation^ so natural^ 
 so g^raceful^ that Arthur felt tempted to wish 
 that she might always remain thus. The 
 noise of his entrance^ however^ made her turn 
 round^ and she received Mr. Selby with a 
 sweet smile ; and^ shaking- hands with him^ 
 g-ently said^ " You are late." 
 
 The words were few and simple^ but they 
 thrilled through Arthur's breast^ and his
 
 200 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 heart beat quicker as he mentioned his father's 
 family arrang-ements having- prevented him 
 coming- sooner. The ceremony of introducing* 
 him to the only other gentleman in the box^ was 
 then g'one through j and as this was done^ a 
 favourable impression was made on the minds 
 of both young' men. As Arthur g-azed on the 
 tall^ slight form opposite to him^ scarcely yet 
 in its full vigour • and remarked the black hair^ 
 and larg*e^ soft blue eyes ; he thought that this 
 strang-er w^as indeed the most striking- in his 
 appearance of any man he had ever met with. 
 He was of too generous and open-hearted a 
 disposition to feel one moment's pang of 
 jealousy; even when^ after a little longer 
 acquaintance^ he fancied that Miss Lyndsay 
 accepted the attentions of the latter with 
 manifest pleasure^ unmixed with the slig'htest 
 tinge of flirtation or coquetry : they appeared 
 to Arthur like two old friends^ v^ell known 
 to each other. Lady Anne watched with 
 interest what effect their manner would have 
 on her new beau; for she had seen^ with a 
 mother's quick eye^ the impression her daugh- 
 ter's charms had made on the young man fresh
 
 HARDEN HALL. 201 
 
 from Kent ; and quite unused^ she suspected^ to 
 the being thrown in the way of such fascinating- 
 charms. But let not my readers think from 
 this that Lady Anne Lyndsay was a match- 
 making mother^ — far otherwise: though where 
 is the mother that would not rejoice to see her 
 daughter well married ? — not well married^ in 
 the general acceptation of the phrase^ but mar- 
 ried to one whose life would be devoted to 
 making his wife happy. But^ alas ! this evening*^ 
 bright and enjoyable as it was to all the party^ 
 must come to an end ; and as they moved from 
 the box^ Arthur gave his arm to Lady Anne 
 
 Lyndsay^ her daughter following' with 
 
 cannot my readers guess who this w^as? — 
 perhaps in time they will discover. 
 
 It was lono* that nio-ht before Arthur 
 closed his eyes 3 visions of beauty^ youth^ 
 and love^ floated before him — visions of that 
 face and form^ which had quite bewitched 
 him the preceding- evening. And after se- 
 veral other meetings^ this first impression 
 ripened into steady and unaffected love ; doubly 
 heightened by perceiving' that it was fully re- 
 turned by the object of his affections. At the
 
 202 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 end of two months^ they were married^ and 
 quietly en route to that parsonag-e which was 
 now to he the home of this petted London 
 beauty. Here they lived with much hap- 
 piness until the time our story commences: 
 though^ having' a family^ they were not exempt 
 from cares and trials. But there was a reli- 
 g-ious cheerfulness^ an utter absence of all 
 selfishness in both^ which prompted them 
 to promote the amusement of their youngs 
 people in every way; and the same hands 
 which were seen in the evening- playing* 
 waltzes and quadrilles to her children^ and 
 joining" in all their sports^ mig-ht next morn- 
 ing* be seen administering* relief and food to 
 the poorest mendicant in the parish. The 
 same with Mr. Selby: yet so quietly^ so 
 unobtrusively were all his g*ood deeds per- 
 formed^ that it was only to his own family 
 they were known; and not always to them. 
 He was indeed one of those characters which^ 
 to the g'lory of our churchy are so frequently 
 met with : one who followed his Master's 
 precepts^ by g'oing* about doing* g*ood : one 
 who was imbued with the deepest humility :
 
 HARDEN HALL. 203 
 
 one who delig'hted in making- others happy : 
 one who had no tincture of that uncharitable 
 moroseness which considers people who differ 
 from them as little better than heathens : one, 
 in short, who did to others as he would they 
 should do to him.
 
 204 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 My readers will remember that we left Cathe- 
 rine closing^ her letter to her father. She 
 still felt uncomfortable about Mr. Read : she 
 feared how dreadful his conduct had been 3 
 and^ with the sensitiveness of a refined nature^ 
 shrunk from any further intercourse with 
 one who she was now given to understand was 
 utterly worthless. But our heroine was not 
 of a nature to see thing-s long- in their blackest 
 colours ; and remembering" that she had still a 
 fortnig-ht to be in waiting*^ she roused herself^ 
 and taking- up a volume of Shakespere^ was 
 soon deeply interested. It was fortunate for 
 her that she was so fond of reading-; for 
 thoug-h ang-ry thoughts constantly intruded 
 themselves upon her^ still the mere effort of 
 forcing- the mind to dwell on some object 
 unconnected with self; had a very beneficial
 
 HARDEX HALL. 205 
 
 result. Thus eleven — twelve o'clock came , and 
 she beofan to be anxious about her destination 
 
 for that day^ when Miss came running- 
 
 in, and said an order had that moment been 
 g'iven to herself^ to attend the Queen on her 
 drive y so that Miss Selby mig'ht amuse her- 
 self as she pleased. 
 
 ^^ But why do you look so g'rave^ 7na 
 petite ?" said this lively young- lady. '^ Why^ 
 at eighteen^ I hardly knew what it was to 
 look g'rave.'' 
 
 Catherine felt rather ashamed of being- 
 found still thinking- of Mr. Eead^ but did 
 not attempt to deny that she felt very nervous 
 as to what would happen next : he being* so 
 thoroughly unprincipled. 
 
 Miss instantly stopped her merry laug'h^ 
 
 for she felt truly for her ; and being- some ten 
 years older^ and suspecting- more than she 
 had cared to tell her friend^ she was even more 
 apprehensive of the evils resulting- from such 
 base conduct than Catherine herself. But she 
 cheered her with the idea that since her father 
 knew that Mr. Read's conduct was open to 
 censure — or^ at least^ to suspicion — he would^
 
 206 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 in all probability^ settle the affair without her 
 hearing any more about it. '' And now let us 
 banish Mr. Read from our conversation ; for 
 he is like the Diable Boiteux^ we used to hear 
 of in the nursery^ who^ by his ugly visage^ 
 frightened mirth away.'' 
 
 After a pleasant half hour of gossip^ Miss 
 
 withdrew^ to equip for her drive ; and 
 
 Miss Selby was left alone to amuse herself 
 with her books. 
 
 What^ my readers will ask^ has become of 
 Colonel Selwyn all this time ? Where is the 
 hero who_, at one time^ seemed so desperately 
 smitten with our fair Catherine? Where is 
 he? With his parents^ relieving the mono- 
 tony of his mother's life^ at Bury House^ and 
 paying every attention to his old father. His 
 amazement v^as great when he heard of the 
 way in which Mr. Bead had disturbed and 
 interrupted his mother^ on the memorable day 
 of his visit there. From his mother he did not 
 conceal a thought that related to Miss Selby ; 
 and to his father he imparted his feelings 
 when he was willing to listen to him : but at 
 threescore years and ten^ one is not quite so
 
 HARDEN HALL. 207 
 
 eag*er about these thing-s as at twenty years 
 young-er. His mother encourag-ed his attach- 
 ment for Miss Selby^ by every argument in her 
 power ', but conchided that^ as Catherine's wait- 
 ing- could not be over till the end of the month^ 
 he had better remain with them till then. Over 
 and over ag-ain did he dwell on all the charms 
 of Miss Selby's conversation^ and smiled at his 
 own enthusiasm. But eag-erly as both mother 
 and son wished that this alliance could be 
 broug-ht about^ they neither of them attempted 
 to deny that there mig'ht be difficulties in the 
 way. First and foremost stood Mr. Read. 
 He was the man^ of all others^ whom Colonel 
 Selwyn most despised. He had behaved in an 
 unprincipled manner to Miss Selby ; and this 
 was the circumstance which first drew Colonel 
 Selwvn's attention to her. Had he but known 
 all that our readers are already acquainted 
 with^ he would have indeed contemned him. 
 He long-ed to see Catherine ag-ain — 
 
 ^' Her image filled his soul." 
 
 "Waking" or sleeping*^ it was her sweet tone 
 that rang in his ears. He tried to interest
 
 208 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 himself as much in the farming- establishment 
 as he formerly did ; but his mind was too 
 restless^ too unsettled^ to derive g-reat pleasure 
 from all these home pursuits. Yet^ day by 
 day^ he visited the school ; the poor people 
 he had known from his cradle ; and as he 
 heard blessing's implored on his parents' heads 
 by the lips of both young* and old^ he did in- 
 deed feel quite recompensed for the little sacri- 
 fice of his own feeling's he had made in visiting* 
 them. Everything- was conducted under the 
 eye of a bailiff^ who^ having- been broug-ht up 
 by Mr. Selwyn^ was nearly as much beloved as 
 his master; for^ in everything*^ he both sought 
 to benefit and improve the condition of their 
 poor neig'hbours. In this respect^ Bury was 
 indeed a famed spot; and proudly may the 
 author boast that in Eng-land alone such vil- 
 lag'es are frequently to be met with. Colonel 
 Selwyn was likewise delig'hted to take a part 
 in these arrang-ements. Stilly in all his rumi- 
 nations^ he could not but feel very uneasy as 
 to what conduct Mr. Read mig-ht next pursue. 
 From his previous knowledg-e of his character^ 
 and from that which was g-enerally g'iven him^
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 209 
 
 he felt convinced, that if Mr. Read really did 
 admire Miss Selby herself, and (which was more 
 probable) was in love with the fortune he sup- 
 posed she was to inherit, there were no means 
 that he would not scrujile to have recourse to, 
 in order to obtain this prize. The idea of 
 such a scheme succeeding*, maddened Colonel 
 Selwyn. He had seen, in so many instances, 
 W'omen who had been over persuaded to 
 marry men whom they had jorofessed to dis- 
 like and despise, that he half trembled for Cathe- 
 rine's firmness 5 seeing' she had to contend 
 ag'ainst Mr. Read and his still more unprin- 
 cipled aunt : who, he felt certain, was the prime 
 mover of this match, and had been the first 
 instiofator of it. When he reflected on the 
 way in which Miss Selby's name had been 
 broug'ht before the public, by all those shame- 
 ful advertisements in the papers; so publicly, 
 that he thouo*ht there was nothino;- could 
 have been more revoltino- to a delicate-minded 
 woman — wdien he thoug'ht on these thing's, 
 and on all that had passed between himself 
 and Miss Selby, on the only nig'ht they had ever 
 met, — hope ag"ain rose in his breast, that he 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 mig"ht still possess this charming* g'irl^ and 
 thus shield her for ever from Mr. Read's 
 persecutions. 
 
 In g-eneral^ men know little or nothing* 
 of the character of women: hut Colonel 
 Selwjn had studied the character of those 
 that he had been intimate Avith; and^ from 
 all he there saw^ he was convinced how un- 
 just the world is^ in accusing* the female 
 sex of levity and inconstancy — how untrue^ in 
 saying"^ that nine women out of ten marry for 
 riches or rank. He had a hig'her opinion of 
 the fair sex ^ and^ thoug'h he never attempted 
 to deny that this may he the case in many 
 instances^ stilly from all he saw^ he felt morall}^ 
 certain that for the most part that frivolous 
 manner assumed by so many women^ hides 
 some deep^ some devoted attachment : per- 
 haps to one who is^ alas ! utterly unworthy 
 of them y — one who^ having* striven by every 
 means in his power^ and succeeded in g-aining* 
 the affections of a woman^ deserts her^ and 
 leaves her neg-lected and miserable ; then ag'ain 
 mixing* in the world ^ soon finds an opportunity 
 of playing' the same g-ame with another in-
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 211 
 
 nocent victim : foro-ettino- tliat there is one, 
 who^ if she chose to speak out^ could ruin his 
 character in the eyes of all right-minded and 
 honourable men. But this is not in woman's 
 nature : she endures much^ but complains not. 
 
 p 2
 
 212 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 So mucli have we been taken up with our 
 Catherme's affairs^ that no time has been as 
 yet found to revert to that g*ala da}^^ to which 
 her sisters were so eagerly looking- forward^ 
 when last we were with them. Susan had 
 g-one^ as was previously arrang-ed^ to New- 
 stead Lodg'e^ the preceding* evening-; for the 
 Stanleys wished her to be there^ to assist in 
 making- the arrang-ements. The first question 
 that was asked by many young* voices at the 
 Eectory^ on the morning- of the 29th of May^ 
 was^ whether the sun shone ? and the answer^ 
 in the affirmative^ g'ave g-eneral satisfaction. 
 The chattering'^ as the little children g-ot up^ 
 was quite incessant as to what they were to 
 expect; for as yet they had not been told 
 anything- on the subject^ in order that the sur- 
 prise mig-ht be the more delig-htful. 
 
 ^^ But only fancy ;" said the young-est^ — a
 
 HARDEN HALL. 213 
 
 lovely urchin of six years old 5 ^^ we are not to 
 g-o till twelve o'clock^ and that is such a long- 
 time to wait — such a very long* time/' he 
 repeated^ in a doleful tone. But the little pet 
 of the whole house was soon reconciled to this 
 delay by hearing that if he had gone earlier 
 he would have to return at seven^ instead of 
 remaining till nine. Oh^ the first days of 
 pleasure^ how gay and sunny they are ! — the 
 merest trifle pleases ; everything is seen on 
 the bright side. Happy little man ! he knew 
 not what sorrow or vexation was ; his life had 
 been one continual sunbeam^ without one cloud 
 to ruffle its serenity. He was the youngest of 
 a large family. Oh ! how much is expressed 
 in that one word '^ yoiuujest f^ it recals days 
 when every bright and lovely flower^ every 
 smile^ every thought was directed to the 
 making some little pet child the happiest of 
 the happy^ and merriest of the merry. Alas ! 
 that such blissful days should ever be clouded 
 with storms and tempests ! Not but that to 
 childhood^ the sorrow caused by^ and the tears 
 shed over, some dead canary, or broken toy, 
 are as bitter as those that are shed in later 
 years over some lost friend or companion : but 
 in the first case, in a few seconds afterwards,
 
 214 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 the child will have forg'otten its little g-riefs — 
 will be smiling- ag'ain ; whereas^ in the latter^ 
 deep wounds^ like the loss of those we have 
 fondly loved^ are never forgotten^ thoug-h mer- 
 cifully softened by time and hope. The g'oing* 
 to Newstead Lodg-e was^ indeed^ a great event 
 to our little friends^ and the}^ could talk and 
 think of nothing" else. 
 
 At nine o'clock they were all summoned to 
 prayers ; and when they saw their father and 
 mother^ they were too much engrossed by their 
 own feelings to think of this : for let the poets 
 say what they please^ man is^ at all ages^ a 
 selfish being. 
 
 It was Catherine's letter which had made Mr. 
 and Mrs. Selby look grave : that their darlings 
 high-minded child should have been exposed 
 to so much annoyance from a man so worthless 
 and undeserving in every wa}^ — as from Miss 
 
 's hints they felt sure Mr. Bead must 
 
 be — chafed their minds not a little. They 
 
 felt exceedingly beholden to Miss ^ who^ 
 
 by her timely announcement of some inimi- 
 cable objection^ had strengthened Catherine's 
 resolution of having nothing to say to Mr. 
 Bead. But there was no great difficulty in 
 deciding what was to be done^ now matters
 
 HARDEN HALL. 215 
 
 had been thus partially explained ; so Mr* 
 Selby instantly wrote a cold^ formal note to 
 Mr. Eead^ mentioning* that he had heard of 
 various circumstances of his past life^ which 
 made him insist that^ for the future^ Mr. Eead 
 would never hold any intercourse with his 
 daughter^ as she could only reg'ard with the 
 greatest abhorrence a character such as his had 
 been described to her. Mr. Selby said he alluded 
 to some disgraceful history connected with a 
 Spanish girl : he knew no particulars_, nor 
 did he wish to know any : that his daughter 
 had always professed her indifference towards 
 Mr. Read 3 who^ if any attempt were made 
 ao'ain to renew their intercourse, must take 
 the consequences. The note was quite gentle- 
 manlike, but very decided. It was this dis- 
 agreeable aifair Avhich had damped the cheer- 
 fulness of Mr. and Mrs. Selby. But theirs 
 were affectionate hearts^ wdio always tried to 
 forget^ in the presence of their children^ every- 
 thino- but the deliodit of havino- such sweet 
 
 C5 O O 
 
 pledges of their love ; and as Tiny leaped into 
 his mother's arms^ and hid his little face 
 upon her shoulder^ they both smiled cheerfully; 
 w^hile mama whispered to her darling little 
 triad that they must be ready by twelve. The
 
 216 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 sig-ht of their happiness diffused itself into their 
 mother's breast^ thoug'h Catherine's image con- 
 stantly returned to mar her feelings of joy. 
 
 Susan had gone to Newstead the preceding" 
 evening*^ and her mother rejoiced that she had 
 done so. She Avas merely aware that her sister 
 had been very much annoyed by the attentions 
 of a disag-reeable man^ but knew nothing of 
 his real character : neither did her parents 3 for 
 Catherine having- from the very first^ expres- 
 sed her dislike of him^ her parents had never 
 made any inquiries respecting* this person. If 
 Susan^ who was most keenly alive to everything* 
 that related to her sister's happiness^ had had 
 the smallest idea how much Catherine had 
 been vexed and worried^ Mrs. Selby felt 
 certain she would not have g*one to this fete : 
 now there was no necessity for her knowing* a 
 syllable of any particulars till her return home. 
 All the neighbourhood were expected to be 
 present at this party; and^ as in Wiltshire^ 
 owing* to the large tracts of downs which 
 belong* to most estates^ neighbours live many 
 miles apart^ some people came from a con- 
 siderable distance. Those who did so were 
 amply repaid for the exertion. But we must 
 not forestall our description of this charming-
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 217 
 
 day's amusement; and one chapter at least 
 must be devoted to the description of all the 
 company, on that day assembled in one of the 
 prettiest spots on the banks of the Avon.
 
 218 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 We have in a former chapter informed our 
 readers that Newstead Lodg-e was situated 
 on the banks of the Avon; which was here 
 very wide^ and^ like all streams in a chalky 
 soil^ as clear as crystal. The g*arden_, which 
 had been lately laid out with gTcat taste by 
 Mr. Stanley^ sloped down to the water^ and the 
 lawn was as smooth as velvety while gToups of 
 fine old trees^ on each side^ added much to the 
 beauty of the scene. At the time that the party 
 from the Kectory arrived^ they found Susan 
 and the Stanleys arranging- the targets and 
 bows and arrows: in another half hour^ the 
 lawn presented a very g*ay and animated 
 scene ; about twenty young- people^ of both 
 sexes^ were eng-ag-ed shooting- • and thoug-h it 
 is true more arrows were seen in the o-rass 
 than in the bulFs-eye^ this did not prevent 
 great enjoyment and merriment among- the
 
 HARDEN HALL. 219 
 
 archers. Four youths^ brothers^ between the 
 ag'es of twelve and sixteen^ displayed great 
 skill ; so expertly did they shoot^ that they 
 easily beat the other marksmen off the field : 
 who alleged^ in their defence^ that they were 
 not accustomed to shoot at so great a distance. 
 Maria Stanley herself was the best lady shot ; 
 and the tio'ht o-reen bodice, with full white 
 muslin skirt^ were most becoming to her pretty 
 figure. She was too sallow to be really pretty^ 
 but as the white and lilac feathers that adorned 
 her bonnet waved amongst her bright curls^ she 
 certainly had a very distingue and pleasing ap- 
 pearance. There were^ of course_, the usual num- 
 ber of short_, ugly men — eachof w^hom probably 
 flattered himself that he could not be of the num- 
 ber ; and the ordinary quantity of badly dressed 
 girls that are seen in every large party in the 
 country : but even the most fastidious critic 
 must have allowed that with the various groups 
 scattered over the j)leasure grounds^ the tout 
 ensemble was a gay and pretty scene. The 
 grand secret for making any party of this 
 sort go off well^ is for all to make up their 
 minds to enjoy everything^ and to be pleased 
 and contented. jN'othing is more infectious 
 than findino- fault.
 
 220 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 The prizes had not been distributed when Mr. 
 Stanley came forward to proclaim that dinner 
 was ready j so that the archery party were to 
 finish their game afterwards. To this move- 
 ment^ no one objected^ as the heat was very g-reat^ 
 and^ after a little respite^ they could resume 
 their shooting* with renewed zest and vig'our. 
 
 To a person unacquainted with the arrang-e- 
 ments of the place^ it seemed quite extra- 
 ordinary that such a larg*e assembly of people 
 could be accommodated with dinner at once. 
 However^ Mr. Stanley^ g-iving* his arm to 
 Mrs. Selby^ escorted her towards the house^ 
 as she thoug-ht y instead of which^ after going- 
 a few hundred yards^ they turned short 
 round into a pretty^ secluded^ shady walk^ 
 the boughs of the shrubs on either side 
 meeting over their heads. After pursuing 
 this path a short distance^ Mr. Stanley^ with 
 eager curiosity^ said^ he was really anxious to 
 inquire if the report of the marriage of his 
 favourite Catherine was truej for several 
 people had asked him if it was so : but as it 
 had not been announced by her family^ he 
 had always denied it. 
 
 ^^ You have then^ indeed^ acted the part of 
 a real friend^ my dear Mr. Stanley/' replied
 
 HAKDEN HALL. 221 
 
 Mrs. Selby 5 ^^ and^ for the future^ P^'^.Y con- 
 tradict it on my authority. I assure you, 
 there is not a word of truth in it ; and we are 
 all exceeding'ly annoyed at it.^^ 
 
 '' This is most vexatious^ indeed/^ he replied: 
 '^ but people will talk ; and if any idle g-ossip 
 observes a girl merely speaking* to a young* 
 man, she immediately puts it down as " a 
 settled thing" f and spreads the report in the 
 neig'hbourhood of both parties, through ser- 
 vants, or some equally creditable way j so that 
 even had there been anything* in it, such 
 detestable interference effectually puts a stop 
 to the flirtation. 
 
 ^' Yes,'' replied Mrs. Selby ] " it is but too 
 true that many g'irls, and indeed, many men, 
 have their peace of mind destroyed in this 
 manner. But," she continued, in a g'ayer 
 tone, ^' Cupid's darts have not yet pierced the 
 heart of our darling*. She has never had the 
 slig-htest liking* for Mr. Head; nor, indeed, 
 has she herself seen him a dozen times : for 
 the fortnig'ht after she left us, she went into 
 waiting'/' 
 
 This fortunately changed the subject; for 
 good old Mr. Stanley wished to hear all that 
 had passed while she was at court, and all
 
 222 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 those little details^ — those trifles that make 
 up the sum of human life in the palace. 
 Mrs. Selby and her friend had now reached 
 the end of this little shaded pathAvay^ and 
 here she was most agreeably surprised with 
 what she both saw and heard ; for the mo- 
 ment Mr. Stanley made his appearance^ a 
 band of instruments struck up some of our 
 lively national airs. The band was seen pic- 
 turesquely placed under some fine old elm trees^ 
 the last gToup in the park before you reached 
 the flower garden. There was one little mu- 
 sician who attracted all the attention. He was 
 apparently not more than twelve years of ag^e^ 
 and was playing*^ with all his heart and soul^ 
 on the violin ; the rapidity with which his 
 fing-ers moved was quite wonderful. Mrs. 
 Selby said^ that the year before she had heard 
 Sivori^ but she thought this child far sur- 
 passed him. She had ample time to observe 
 the musicians as they passed to where they 
 were standing*. She soon discovered the top of 
 a white tent in the distance amongst the trees 5 
 and her look of surprise and pleasure was quite 
 equal to that of the youngest of the party^ 
 for she had not been led to expect anything 
 of the sort. The tent was large, and placed
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 223 
 
 on the brow of a small hill among'st fine 
 trees^ looking* down towards the river ; and on 
 the other side were seen the deer — some 
 drinking-^ and others tossing' their proud 
 antlers in the air^ unaccustomed as they were 
 to have their repose disturbed by strains of 
 music. Groups of happy people were seen on 
 every side traversing* the hill^ and the brilliancy 
 of the coup cVoeil^ animated with cheerful and 
 joyous looks all present. One little group par- 
 ticularly attracted Mrs. Selb3'^s attention* it 
 consisted of several children trying- to climb 
 the steepest side of the hill ^ their little hands 
 were loaded with flowers of honeysuckle^ 
 primroses and cowslips^ and all the other beau- 
 tiful flowers which adorn the Eno-lish wood in 
 Spring*. But soon her attention was riveted 
 to one who seemed the young-est of the party^ 
 and whose clear^ merry laug-h^ was heard 
 above the others. His companions were try- 
 ing- to help him up the hill^ but he continually 
 rolled back again^ much to the amusement of 
 the others^ whose merry peals of laughter 
 were heard on all sides. When nearly at the 
 top^ our friend Tiny^ for he it was^ sat down^ 
 declaring^ that he '^ mut est his weay limbs/^ 
 leaving out all the r's^ and lisping in the 
 prettiest way possible.
 
 224 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 But Mrs. Selby could no long-er detain Mr. 
 Stanley; so^ waving* her handkerchief to the 
 little party, she passed on. As they approached 
 the tent, all the conipany paired off, and followed 
 their host into the tent. Over the door was writ- 
 ten, in roses, Mrs. Stanley's name, and the door- 
 way was literally formed by a canopy of roses. 
 Mrs. Selby was quite astonished when she 
 entered the tent, to see how spacious it was. 
 All round the sides were rang-ed tables and 
 benches, and across each end, so that the 
 whole party, upwards of an hundred and fifty, 
 were accommodated at once. Flowers and 
 everg^reens were entwined round the pillars 
 that supported the canvass roof, bunches of 
 flowers were placed on the table, and seve- 
 ral lovely bouquets were scattered about for 
 the fair g-uests. Nothing* that could in any 
 way conduce to the amusement of the party 
 had been neglected y all those little attentions 
 which are so gTatifying* were thought of. 
 After all had been amply reg*aled; after the 
 toasts for the Stanley famil}^, the Queen, 
 Prince Albert and the Royal Family, had 
 been duly honoured, the whole party ad- 
 journed, some to the house and some to the 
 park. The walking* part of the scheme was
 
 HAEDEX HALL? 225 
 
 most ao-reeable to all the vouno-er and most 
 active part of the community^ who felt it 
 would be a welcome relief, after havino* been 
 detained so long- in the heated tent^ to refresh 
 themselves by a stroll throug*h the lovely 
 grounds; for^ though they were not large^ 
 they had been laid out with so much taste^ 
 that in walking round them one could scarcely 
 believe that they were not of much greater 
 extent. 
 
 Wiltshire is noted for fine beech-trees , the 
 chalky soil and fresh clear air suit them, and 
 some of the largest were to be seen at New- 
 stead Lodge. They might, indeed^ have un- 
 folded many a tale^ if they had had the gift 
 of speech : and there are few people who have 
 not often been tempted to wish that trees and 
 old walls could tell the scenes they had wit- 
 nessed in days of yore. The Miss Stanleys 
 sang beautifully; so their young friends begged 
 them^ as they were sitting under the trees^ to 
 indulge them with one of their lively airs. 
 After much solicitation and apparent reluc- 
 tance^ they began. Maria had a singularly 
 deep and full voice^ and having had the ad- 
 vantage of the best masters^ and possessing* 
 great natural taste^ she sang exquisitely some 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 wild Spanish g-uerilla song'S; her sisters joining' 
 in chorus. Nobody could have appeared to 
 strano-ers in a more amiable lio-ht the whole 
 day than did Maria : she had been exerting 
 herself to the utmost to please everybody^ and 
 had taken g-reat pains to insure the success 
 of every arrangement. Why^ then^ did Susan 
 regard her with such different feelings from 
 what she did her sister ? Why* did Susan 
 look incredulous when Maria repeated some 
 witty^ merry story, which only raised in the 
 breasts of others a feelino' of mirth? Yet 
 though Susan was, to use a common expres- 
 sion among* young ladies, '' nearly dying* of 
 laughter ;" she could not help feeling* that in all 
 probability the tale was not true, but only in- 
 vented on the spur of the moment to amuse and 
 entertain her auditors. There was one person, 
 however, who did not think Maria Stanley 
 could be anything* short of perfection — who 
 was delighted with all she said, and watched 
 her every look and movement. Suddenly, 
 after finishing one of her songs, she turned 
 her bright eyes upon him, saying*, ^^ Ah, ha ! 
 Monsieur le Capitaine, perhaps even 3^ou could 
 fire a shot if sin g* some fair dame?'' Mon- 
 sieur le Capitaine only laughed, the usual re-
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 227 
 
 source of people when tliey have nothing* to 
 say. So his fair tormentor continued^ ^^ Really 
 it was too unkind of you not to try your skill 
 at archery this morning". I did not expect 
 that one who professes such universal polite- 
 ness would have been rude enoug-h to refuse a 
 fair suitor in that kind of way. If I had 
 known you were among" the g'roup^ ought I 
 not in reveno'e to have sang- what shall it 
 be? ^ Take your hated presence away?' And 
 having- uttered these words^ rose from the 
 bench where she had been sitting*^ and feign- 
 ing- to look very much displeased^ moved 
 towards the garden. The rest of the party 
 followed^ with peals of laughter^ ^^ig'Wy amused 
 at this comic scene. When they reached the 
 house^ Mrs. Stanley was beginning to express 
 some anxiety for the return of the young- 
 people ] lest they should be exposed to damps 
 and fogS; and all the host of horrors that 
 careful mothers fear for their precious chil- 
 dren. Too many frequently turn a deaf ear 
 to these kind admonitions. How differ- 
 ently did Susan Selby meet her mother ! 
 She alwa3's reserved her sweetest smile for 
 her : she felt that there was none on earth 
 like her^ and her only fear was lest her mother 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 should be over fatig-ued^ or exert herself too 
 much. Mrs. Selby was not strong- ) and though 
 Susan did not know what Catherine's last letter 
 contained^ she knew that her mother^ and 
 indeed both her parents^ were very anxious to 
 learn how Catherine would feel her way^ sur- 
 rounded as she was with strang-ers^ and without 
 mother to advise her. One thing- they par- 
 ticularly enforced upon Susan^ and that was 
 never to reveal family affairs ) and then the 
 thoug'ht of Lord Fleetwood flashed across her 
 mind : and as she remembered how often she 
 had seen him dancing' in that very room^ and 
 with whom — she shuddered: but making- a 
 violent effort^ she recovered herself* the 
 colour returned to her cheeky and she was^ 
 to all appearance^ the same sprig'htly^ ^^"^PPJ 
 creature she had been before.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 229 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 All the furniture had been removed from the 
 drawing-room_, and the band^ which had been 
 playing- in the park during* the morning-^ was 
 stationed in the recess of the ba}^ window. As 
 Susan and her mother entered the room^ the 
 merry airs of the Irish quadrilles met their 
 ears^ and in one moment Susan was carried 
 away to dance : for she was so popular that she 
 never failed to meet with a partner^ — proving- 
 the truth of that common remark^ that beauty 
 is not the only attraction in a ball-room^ but 
 that there is a certain ^^ je ne sais quoV^ which 
 carries the ([^y, Mrs. Stanley had collected 
 the whole neig-hbourhood ] and it may^ perhaps^ 
 amuse our readers to have the several parties 
 described. It is^ of course^ more comme il 
 font to commence with those of hig-hest rank : 
 so we must introduce our readers to Lord 
 Flarrant; one of those popular noblemen who
 
 230 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 unite the liig-hest refinement of manners to the 
 greatest civilit}^ and cordiality to his country 
 neig-hbours. He was but a very young- man 
 when his father died^ and immediately deter- 
 mined to reside principally on his larg-e estate 
 in Wiltshire. At twenty-eig-ht^ he married a 
 lady worthy of him in every respect : she was 
 one who^ thoug-h born in the hig-hest station^ 
 had been broug'ht up to value thing's by their 
 intrinsic worth j and did not regard the pomp 
 and splendour of rank with such admiration as 
 those Avhose lives being* cast in a humbler 
 sphere are wont to do. They had now been 
 married five years^ and as yet no family had 
 blest their union. They seemed to require 
 nothing but this to render their happiness 
 complete ; and though this blessing was denied 
 them^ they bore their disappointment without a 
 murmur. Lady Flarrant had given up dancing 
 ever since she married ; but it was not difficult 
 to distinguish her from among the other ^' wall 
 flowers.'^ Her husband Avas such a general 
 favourite that he danced incessantly the 
 whole evenings; and he it was who opened 
 the ball with Susan Selby. Possessed of 
 immense riches^ his chief aim was to do good. 
 No charity^ either public or private^ in the
 
 HARDEN HALL. 231 
 
 whole county but received gTeat support from 
 him : he was e very thin o- that a country o-en- 
 tleman ouo-ht to he : and well would it he for 
 Old England if more of her nobility devoted 
 themselves to improving- and ameliorating* the 
 condition of their poorer neighbours. 
 
 As a complete contrast to these exemplary- 
 people^ we must now describe Sir Hector and 
 Lady Jones^ and their two daughters. He had 
 been orio-inally in the army, but retired at the 
 close of the war. Althouo-h he had left the 
 mess-room, the sort of lano-uao-e he there heard 
 was what he preferred to hear at his o^ati 
 table : anything but refined^ and most unsuited 
 to ladies' ears: for in his days the soldier's 
 life was a far more riotous one than it is at 
 present. Lady Jones was the daughter of a 
 retired clothier^ who^ if she had not attempted 
 to play fine; might have passed off assez hien ; 
 but as it waS; her efforts to appear of conse- 
 quencC;, and her felicity at being* called ^^ my 
 lady/' which was too evident to be disguised^ 
 made her^ to say the leasts extremely ridicu- 
 lous. The daughters were in every respect 
 worthy of such parents^ excepting that their 
 mother had the advantage of possessing- the 
 remains of g-reat beauty ; and if she had left
 
 2S2 HxiRDEN HALL. 
 
 alone those artificial aids — such as rouge, 
 wigs, flowers, and trinkets — she would have 
 been a very fine-looking- woman ', whereas now 
 she appeared excessively vulgar : but to return 
 to the daughters; — they were both tall, and 
 their complexions most delicate • but then, to 
 counterbalance this, their heads were covered 
 with a kind of carrotty-red wool, not more 
 resembling hair than did the white '^ tow " of 
 the Albinoes that were exhibited some time 
 ago. Certainly, it was their misfortune not 
 to be handsome ; but as Susan watched them, 
 she could not resist laughing most heartily. 
 All the other ladies had retained their morn- 
 ing dresses, and merely thrown aside their 
 bonnets. But the Misses Jones, anxious, as 
 they expressed it, to ^' cut a dash,'^ had taken 
 the trouble to perform a most elaborate toilette, 
 and the result was most wonderful. Their red 
 curls were frizzed out to the utmost ; and above 
 these curls, wreath upon wreath was seen of 
 flowers of all colours raising* their heads : 
 those that were ^^ born to blush unseen" being- 
 very prominent. But it is always a great 
 advantage at a party, to have some worthy 
 folks who are good-natured enough to be • 
 sufficiently absurd as to make themselves the
 
 HARDEN HALL. 2SS 
 
 laug-hing'-stock of the rest of the compan3^ 
 Quadrille and waltz succeeded each other 
 in rapid succession : everyhody seemed pleased 
 and happy. There was a ver}' fair proportion 
 of lady-like^ pleasing'-looking* girls ; but no 
 striking beauties. The chaperon es were begin- 
 ning to feel tired j papas were seen looking at 
 their watches ; and all the signs of a Jinale 
 were visible^ when the musicians — the inde- 
 fatigable musicians — struck up a merry coun- 
 try dance. In an instant^ a general rush 
 was made towards the heads of the respective 
 houses_, to petition for half an hour's law^ and 
 it was readily granted 3 for their hearts could 
 not but remember that it was the dance of 
 their youth_j and they liked to see their chil- 
 dren enjoy it. Susan was again seized by 
 Lord Flarrant^ to her great delight 3 for he 
 was quite her beau-ideal of a partner. This 
 country dance seemed interminable : couple 
 after couple tore up and down the room^ till 
 at last the fiddlers^ quite exhausted^ cried for 
 mere}'. A general groan of despair was heard 
 round the room 5 for it happened^ as it fre- 
 quently does in a long country dance, that 
 some unfortunate^ modest couple^ who had 
 begun at the bottom of all things^ had not
 
 234 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 succeeded in working- their way to the top 
 when the music ceased. In half an hour, 
 this merry dance being- over, the house was 
 cleared ; all the family of Stanley retired to bed, 
 fatigued and exhausted. But there was one 
 who could not sleep. We before mentioned 
 that there was a Captain Eenolds who paid 
 Maria Stanley g-reat attention; during the 
 whole day he had been her constant com- 
 panion, and the earliest opportunity that 
 occurred, had made her an offer. He de- 
 clared his attachment, and how deeply he 
 loved her 5 and she had done — what? After 
 flirting with him most desperately, she ended 
 by refusing" him — refusing him so positively 
 that it was impossible for him to speak to her 
 again. But now, when quietly seated in her 
 own room, she thought over all that had 
 taken place \ she felt half vexed that she had 
 refused him; she acknowledged to herself 
 that she certainly liked him very much ; and 
 had only rejected his pressing suit, because — 
 oh! shame to the fair sex that such young 
 ladies exist ! — because she fancied that a cer- 
 tain rich baronet, who had always been very 
 attentive to her, was about to propose to her ; 
 because, thoug'h in her heart she despised him,
 
 HARDEN HALL. 235 
 
 and had a g-reat contempt for his character^ 
 she thoug-ht that it sounded better to he 
 my Lady Laurence^ than plain Mrs. Eenolds. 
 All this flashed across her mind ; and there is, 
 no douht^ to an ill-conditioned mind^ a secret 
 kind of pleasure in refusing- an offer^ and of 
 mortifying* a man's pride. Again^ she re- 
 flected that she might now possibly remain 
 Miss Stanley ; but immediatel}' banishing this 
 idea^ she retired to rest with the determination 
 of making- Sir Godfrey Laurence pop the ques- 
 tion before she was a month older. She would 
 then have^ she said_, at her command^ a large 
 establishment^ carriages^ and horses 3 and what 
 could a girl wish for more ? 
 
 Very man}' marriag-es are_j it is to be feared, 
 patched up in this wa}'. But let us not sup- 
 pose that such is always the case : and yet 
 few, comparatively, are the result of deep and 
 heartfelt attachment.
 
 536 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXL 
 
 It was not till the folio win o' mornino- that 
 Susan Selby heard all the particulars of Cathe- 
 rine's letter. Her angry and indignant feelings 
 against Mr. Read could he scarcely restrained 
 sufficiently to allow her to listen in silence to 
 all her father said as to the necessity of 
 inviolable secrecy with regard to the whole 
 affair. But she had a quick perception of right 
 and wrongs with no lack of good sense^ and 
 soon perceived that if one word of this vexa- 
 tious affair got about^ it would deeply grieve 
 and injure her sister ^ she^ therefore^ promised 
 to be as discreet and prudent as her mother ; 
 and to prevent anything more transpiring^ Mr. 
 Selby locked up the letter^ and instantly re- 
 paired to London to demand an interview with 
 Mr. Eead. The day of his departure was a 
 ^^triste'^ one for the whole house^ and espe- 
 cially for the mother of our fair heroine. She
 
 HAKDEN HALL. 237 
 
 tried to remain calm and tranquil^ but Susan 
 saw by her pallid cheek and the slight tremor 
 in her upper lip^ how great was the struggle 
 within. What she and Mrs. Selby chiefly 
 rested their hopes upon^ was the letting Mr. 
 Bead know that they were acquainted Avith his 
 infamous character 3 and then^ if all feeling' of 
 shame was not quite extinguished in his 
 breast^ he would be too happy to hide himself 
 in that obscurity which was best suited to 
 him. 
 
 It was late before Mr. Selby arrived in 
 Manchester Square^ and on inquiring' for Mr. 
 Bead^ was told that he had gone that morn- 
 ing to Windsor. Without a mon^icnt's delay^ 
 Mr. Selby proceeded thither^ and going im- 
 mediately to the palace^ demanded an inter- 
 view with Miss Selby. It was so late that 
 his daughter had just finished dressing for 
 dinner when the message was brought to 
 her ; and fearing that something dreadful had 
 
 happened^ she rushed to Miss 's room^ 
 
 and begging her to request the Queen to dis- 
 pense with her attendance at dinner^ said she 
 would await her Majesty in the drawing-room. 
 Miss fancied something more had oc- 
 curred with Mr. Head; and promising Miss
 
 238 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 Selby to make the best excuse for her that she 
 could^ left her^ as the page at that moment 
 announced it was time for them to descend. 
 
 After the delay of these few minutes^ Miss 
 Selby sent word to her father she was at 
 liberty to receive him. Oh ! what joy to her 
 to be ag-ain clasped in those arms that had so 
 often shielded her in childhood from imag'i- 
 nary troubles and dang-ers^ and Avhich^ she felt 
 sure^ Avould now protect her from all serious 
 difficulties. Her father's first question was^ 
 w^hether she had seen Mr. Read since her last 
 letter^ and it relieved his mind not a little 
 w^hen he heard she had not 3 but she added 
 that he had been sending* her notes and letters 
 ever}^ day^ all which she put into her father's 
 hands. Catherine then repeated all that Miss 
 
 had told her^ and ended by declaring- 
 
 that whether her statement was correct or 
 not^ she thoroug-hly detested and despised him^ 
 for he had most completely marred her happi- 
 ness for the last few weeks. 
 
 ^^ But would it not be possible for 3^ou^ my 
 dear father^ to make inquiries about this young- 
 Mr. Eead 3^ourself, into the truth of all that 
 
 Miss mentions ? Could you not inquire 
 
 of his uncle or aunt ?"
 
 HARDEN HALL. 239 
 
 ^^ Certainly/' he said^ ^^this is what I 
 shall do. Yoii^ my dear girl^ have hehaved 
 beautifully : but here is a long- letter from 
 your sister Susan^ that will divert 3'our atten- 
 tion a little from your own distresses ; for I 
 have kept my post-chaise^ and must be off to 
 town ao-ain directlv. Mr. Eead's letters, not 
 being' dated, give me no clue to find him out ; 
 but no exertions^ you may be assured^ my 
 dear child^ shall be wanting- on my part to 
 discover and silence your persecutor.'' So 
 savin o- he took leave of her. 
 
 After having' delighted herself with reading- 
 all her home letters^ she finished her evening- 
 toilette^ and hastened to the saloon.
 
 240 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Me. Selby felt relieved by his visit to his 
 claug'hter. He ascertained that from the very 
 first she had never oiven Mr. Read the slio-htest 
 encourao'ement, so that not the smallest blame 
 could attach to her ; and when he thought of 
 the openness and beauty of her mind^ he felt 
 that there were very few men_j of his know- 
 ledg^e^ worthy to possess such a jewel. That 
 night nothing' more could be done; it was 
 very late when he reached London^ and hav- 
 ino- travelled the whole day, with his mind 
 sadly harassed^ he needed repose. Sleep — 
 soft^ balmy 'sleep — asserted her empire over 
 him^ and resigning himself to her sway^ he 
 w^as soon as sound asleep^ in the midst of the 
 noise and bustle of a nio-ht in the heio-ht of 
 the London season^ as if he had been in his 
 own quiet home. 
 
 Perhaps of all the disagreeables that attend
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 241 
 
 a residence in town^ none is g-reater than that 
 of havino- your rest disturhed, nio-ht after 
 nig-ht^ hy the incessant rolling- of carriages^ 
 carts^ and all the indescribable vehicles which — 
 crowd our densely-peopled metropolis. Chil- 
 dren in London are quietly told that they will 
 soon get accustomed to the uproar^ and so 
 they do^ in time ; but to those who are more 
 advanced in years^ it is more difficult to g-et 
 over the excitement which such a continual 
 bustle all round you must to a certain degree 
 keep up. 
 
 The sun^ next morning-^ had risen high in 
 the heavens^ and in the far distant country 
 would have looked bright and clear; but to 
 Mr. Selby's eyes^ as he arose^ it was seen 
 through such a mist of smoke that it appeared 
 hardly to have commenced his daily course. 
 Market carts were hurrying backwards and 
 forwards ; all the thoroughfares seemed alive 
 and swarmino- with human beino*5. It has 
 been well said that of all the countless mj'riads 
 who are daily passing and repassing- each 
 other^ there is not one who has not some 
 occupation : it may be pleasure^ or it may 
 be business. On many a countenance 3'ou 
 may discern gain and loss legibl}' stamped on 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 24:2 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 its surface : so true it is tliat money^ which is 
 the greatest evil or the greatest blessing-^ is 
 so unequally divided among-st men^ that while 
 one-half of the inhabitants of the town are 
 revelling' in every kind of luxur}^ and indul- 
 gence^ the other half have hardly the bare 
 necessaries of life. 
 
 These reflections crossed the mind of our 
 excellent friend as he paced from his hotel to 
 Manchester Street^ that he mig'ht renew his 
 inquiries after Mr. Eead. The same wretched 
 pair that we before introduced to our readers 
 were now sitting- in a drawing-room^ so sump- 
 tuously furnished that it seemed as if wealth 
 and luxury had exhausted their boundless 
 resources to contribute to the enjoyment and 
 refinement of its inmates ', who were the only 
 thing's in the whole room that were not 
 refined. These two accountable being's had 
 less of eleg'ance and real refinement than 
 the chairs and tables round them ; for the 
 latter were subservient to the will of their 
 maker : they were useful in their vocation^ 
 while this man and woman were acting- in 
 every respect directly contrary to the ex- 
 pressed will of their beneficent Creator. 
 Their wealth and their talents they lavished
 
 HARDEN HALL. 243 
 
 on tliemselves_, utterly regardless of the calls 
 of charity. And where^ oh^ where in the wide 
 world^ are there more numerous and deserving* 
 objects of charity to be met with than in the 
 metropolis ? Granted that it is a difficult 
 thino* for ladies in a certain situation in life to 
 visit and relieve the poor and destitute at their 
 own houses : yet there have been some such 
 bright exceptions in our highest circles ; and it 
 is deeply to be lamented that more is not done 
 where distress is so prevalent. If it be urged 
 that it is out of the question^ or not comme il 
 faiif, for ladies themselves to visit their poorer 
 neighboui^ in town (for in the country no such 
 reason can be urged)^ they may easily find 
 others who would gladly distribute their chari- 
 ties^ however triHing^ among their poor parish- 
 ioners. If those who enter into the dissipation 
 of London would remember that a very trifling 
 sum^ deducted from all their amusements and 
 finery^ would go very far to relieve the fright- 
 ful want which is too frequently to be met 
 with at no o-reat distance from their own 
 doors^ they would give it. No well-regulated 
 mind can be hurt by mixing in the gay world ] 
 it is only natural that young' people should 
 like to meet and cono-re^-ate tosfether, as their
 
 244 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 fathers did before them : and to the honour of 
 the female character he it spoken^ that hun- 
 dreds^ nay thousands of those who to all 
 appearance are immersed in a vortex of gaiety, 
 are seen, at the end of the season, carrying* 
 consolation and comfort into all the cottages 
 round their homes. Yes, in the country the 
 poor enjoy many advantages quite unknown 
 to their distressed fellow-creatures in large 
 cities. It is difficult to say how their con- 
 dition is to be improved, but something should 
 be done. The rich, for whose will and pleasure 
 the vast metropolis has so increased of late 
 years, ought to bethink themselves of some 
 way of bettering the condition of the poor, 
 who perhaps reside within a hundred yards of 
 their own palaces, in the extreme of poverty 
 and misery. We are told that ^^the poor 
 shall never cease from the land,'^ that is, — do 
 all you can, still there will be poor: but, 
 oh ! let each and all of us labour to lighten 
 their load of care and sorrow; let each of 
 US strive to save some little trifle for the 
 use of those (oh, sad and painful thought!) 
 who too frequently see their loved children 
 waste away through want, and sink into 
 the grave before their eyes, from the 
 impossibility of procuring medical advice.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 245 
 
 Mucli^ mucli is undoubtedly done by many^ 
 but much more might be done by all. And 
 here it should be remarked that one principal 
 reason why the grandees and those of highest 
 fashion have so little^ comparatively speaking*^ 
 to spare for charity^ is on account of their 
 expensive establishments. They g'ive their 
 upper servants hig-her wages than what forms 
 the income of many a hard-working clergy- 
 man of respectable family^ who is expected to 
 make a decent appearance in the world. As 
 a proof of this^ I will just mention what 
 occurred to a noble friend of the Author's 
 whilst engaging a butler. He mentioned that 
 he gave sevent}^ guineas a year. The man 
 looked rather dissatisfied^ observing that he 
 had always received eighty. 
 
 ^^ Eighty !" said Lord P , ^^ why^ I give 
 
 Mr. Gladstone^ who officiates at my chapel^ 
 no more." 
 
 ^^ Very likely^ my lord ) I always pity those 
 poor gentlemen.^' This was said in the coolest 
 and most contemptuous manner possible. 
 
 It mig'ht be easy to produce many similar 
 instances of insolence in that class^ to show 
 the bad effects of placing- them so much above 
 their proper sphere in society. It is a well-
 
 246 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 Iviiown fact that the extravagance of the 
 steward's room is too frequently the cause of 
 so many of our nohility leaving* their princely 
 homes in England^ to reside abroad in some 
 retired villa on the Italian shores^ or possibly 
 in the south of France. It is in Engiand 
 alone that servants are suppoed to require the 
 same accommodation as their masters ; and to 
 such an absurd length is this practice carried^ 
 that in some families the housekeeper^ the 
 cook^ the housemaid^ the laundress^ and the 
 butler^ have each their separate sitting-rooms^ 
 and the first-mentioned has two servants in 
 livery solely to attend her will and pleasure. 
 But though Mr. and Lady Julia Read were 
 extravagant to excess^ they did not adopt this 
 custom^ because the size of their house made 
 it impossible to have all these distinct sitting- 
 rooms. Their extravagance in dress and in 
 their cuisine was^ however^ beyond all bounds ; 
 and now on this ill-fated morning they were co- 
 gitating how it was possible to pay their bills — • 
 bills which had accumulated for the last twelve 
 months^ for all Lady Julia's various extrava- 
 g'ances : many articles of dress which she had 
 never once worn^ and others not more than once 
 or twice. Mr. Read was not less to blame^ oAving^
 
 HAEDEX HALL. 247 
 
 as he did^ hundreds to his shoemaker^ and hun- 
 dreds to his tailor^ and we are afraid to mention 
 how much to his g-lover. He laid these ug-ly 
 bills on the table^ and tried to look with non- 
 chalance on such an ominous heap ) he could 
 not^ however^ maintain an appearance of in- 
 difference^ being* alone with his wife. So 
 sitting' down by her^ he hastily exclaimed^ 
 '^ By Jove ! this is a bad business ; Avhat 
 does your ladyship noAV advise ? Your sug- 
 g-estions/^ he continued^ in that sneering* man- 
 ner Avhich he sometimes used, — '^ your suo'o-es- 
 tions are g'enerally so brig'ht^ so a projws, that 
 I trust you mean to favour me with some- 
 thing- brilliant ', for I confess that I am quite 
 at a loss to know how to proceed." 
 
 It was a rare thing* for Lady Julia to show 
 much emotion ; but on the present occasion 
 she did. She could not shut her eyes to the 
 fact that they were utterly ruined , that un- 
 less some extraordinary resource could be hit 
 upon they were irrecoverably ruined. She 
 felt no compunction^ no sorrow at having- 
 broug*ht this misery in a g*reat measure on 
 her husband's house. Her only predominant 
 feeling- was^ how to extricate herself from 
 this dilemma ^ and it was the shame of being*
 
 2iS HARDEN HALL. 
 
 oblig'ed to ask in that quarter where she had 
 been accustomed to command^ which made her 
 broad red cheeks a shade paler^ and her 
 strono' voice a shade less masculine. She 
 knew that what her husband said was per- 
 fectly true^ and that she alone must think of 
 some remedy. 
 
 ^' AVhere is your nephew_, sir ?'' §aid she ', 
 ^^ he must help me at this moment. The sig*ht 
 of a few bills for a few pounds appears to have 
 scared away the little wit you once possessed. 
 But mark my words^ if I find money for you 
 on this occasion^ remember it is the last^ and 
 that you must expect your share from my 
 generosity^ instead of my waiting* your nig"- 
 gardly supply as heretofore. Are you con- 
 tent to leave everything* in my hands ?" 
 
 Mr. Read actually writhed under his wife's 
 words. He was thoroughly devoid of princi- 
 ple^ — but good-natured^ and though_, from 
 Lady Julia's vehement manner^ he felt con- 
 vinced that she meant to raise money to satisfy 
 their present necessities^ under false pretences, 
 he yet stood in so much need of it that he 
 scarcely dared to make any reply. There is no 
 man who does not shrink from receiving' money 
 from his wife's hands, and who would not
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 249 
 
 rather employ every other method to obtain 
 it than be oblig*ed to ask his wife to advance 
 him pounds^ shilling's^ and pence. This is a 
 very natural feelino- and one that should be 
 encouraged in every way^ because it is cer- 
 tainly much better that the husband should 
 have the supreme direction in all money mat- 
 ters. Mr. Eead paced up and down the room 
 for five minutes^ and then Lady Julia taking^ 
 out her watch^ said^ — 
 
 ^^ Five minutes more I g'iye you to con- 
 sider : if at the end of that time you still re- 
 main undecided^ my part is taken." 
 
 More pacing* up and down followed this 
 speech^ and he was beg'inning* to rebel ag'ainst 
 havino- his will fettered in this way, when his 
 eyes o'lanced towards the table, and there in 
 all their g'lory he beheld the pile of bills; 
 then stopping' short in front of his wife^ 
 
 ^^ Woman V^ he said^ ^^ do you still persist 
 in not aidino' me, unless you have the entire 
 disposal of everything' ?" 
 
 '^ I do ! — not a word more ! " 
 
 And this weak man^ throwing* himself into 
 his chair^ said^ ^^ I g'ive it all up to you." 
 
 A gleam of triumph and exultation shot 
 across her face \ and_, having' secured her
 
 250 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 victory^ she proceeded^ like a skilful general^ 
 to heal the wounds her vig-orous attack had 
 made. Laying* aside that h'auteur and cold- 
 ness which she had before assumed^ she ap- 
 proached her husband^ and^ in soft and win- 
 ning* tones^ told him^ it was his g'ood alone 
 which had broug-ht her to this determination. 
 She then softened thing's down as much as 
 she could^ looked very sweet and tender^ and 
 so considerately recommended a ride in the 
 park^ that the easy-tempered man was quite 
 happy ag-ain ; and mounted his horse with 
 the firm conviction that^ however disag'reeable 
 his wife might be in other respects^ she had 
 decidedly a g-ood head for business.
 
 HARDER- HALL. 251 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII. 
 
 Hee husband had scarcely left her^ when 
 Lady Julia^ retiring* to her own boudoir^ de- 
 sired that no visitors might he admitted hut 
 her nephew : who she wished to be sent for 
 immediately. The man bowed^ and withdrew ; 
 but had not the least idea where this said 
 nephew was to be found. Scarcely had he 
 quitted her ladyship when he returned with a 
 card^ saying'^ that the g'entleman ^vho g'ave it 
 would take no denial^ but positively insisted 
 on seeing' her. She turned very pale on 
 seeing- the name ; and ang-rily exclaimed^ '^ Say 
 I am not at home — say — say anything-. I will 
 not see this man :^' but^ on perceiving* the ser- 
 vant's astonishment at this unusual excite- 
 ment^ she continued^ ^^ I will not see him^ while 
 Mr. Eead is out.'' 
 
 A scarcely perceptible smile curled the mus- 
 tachioed lip of the Italian valet^ as her ladyship
 
 252 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 uttered these last words; for servants^ who 
 see their superiors at all hours^ are generally 
 pretty well acquainted with all the shades of 
 their character. 
 
 Ag'ain the servant returned_, saying-^ that he 
 could not g'et rid of this troublesome visitor ; 
 who said^ he would patiently Avait in the hall 
 till Mr. Read returned. 
 
 Behold all her ladyship's well-laid schemes 
 disconcerted ! But^ trusting* to ready wit and 
 plenty of assurance to g'et over this disagree- 
 able interview^ she intimated that she was at 
 home to this g-entleman^ but to no one else : 
 her nephew always excepted. Another mo- 
 ment^ and Mr. Selby was in the room. 
 
 Lady Julia rose to receive him ; and bowing 
 with that air of perfect g'ood-breeding* she 
 knew full well how to assume^ beg-g'ed to know 
 to what she was indebted for the honour of 
 such an early visit. ^' Sir/' her ladyship con- 
 tinued^ '' I have scarcely^ I believe^ ever seen 
 yoU; since my charming- cousin married : then 
 we were all young* together ; and I hear that 
 Mrs. Selby is the only one of those cousins^ 
 whose beauty has not suffered by the lapse of 
 time." 
 
 Mr. Selby coldly replied^ his wife was well ;
 
 HARDEN HALL. 253 
 
 and then beg^o'ed to inquire if Lad}' Julia was 
 expecting- her nephew that evening". 
 
 Her ladyship did not immediately answer : 
 this^ she perceived^ was a leading question ; 
 and she knew full well what would follow. 
 
 But Mr. Selby so earnestly fixed his e3'es 
 upon her whilst waiting* for her reph'^ that 
 she at leng-th said^ she had not seen her 
 nephew for two days; nor did she know 
 exactly where he was. If he was in town, 
 it was probable he would call upon her ; 
 '^ and/' she continued^ '^ I will g'ive him any 
 message you will leave with me. It is a pity 
 to detain you^ Mr. Selby; because I know 
 country people have always so much to do in 
 their flying- visits to London." 
 
 '^ I am much oblig'ed to you^ Lad}' Julia ; 
 but I must see Mr. Eead myself. And now 
 permit me to say^ that my journey to town is 
 undertaken solely to relieve my daughter fi*om 
 those annovino' attentions — to use no harsher 
 term — which your nephew has persisted in 
 pa}4ng* her. Allow me also to add, that the 
 very prominent part your ladyship has taken 
 in thus disagreeably trying- to force a girl, 
 from fear of what the world may say^ to marry 
 a person she dislikes — one who has behaved to
 
 254 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 her without the least shadow of delicacy — has 
 so much astonished me^ that I must heg-^ 
 madam^ 3'ou will distinctly state to me what 
 your intentions were respecting* my daughter, 
 and what made you so anxious to have her 
 married to your nephew. Her amiability of 
 character alone would not, I feel sure, have 
 induced you to think of her as a match for 
 him. Be so g'ood, therefore, madam, as to 
 tell me w^hat 3^our intentions w^re." 
 
 Lady Julia Bead was completely thrown 
 aback by this straig-htforward speech — quite 
 petrified; and in vain tried to appear cool 
 and collected : when suddenly it occurred to 
 her that Mr. Selby must be ignorant of 
 the objection that many could urge of the 
 wildness of her nephew's life. This idea so 
 far renovated her courage, that she began 
 to expatiate upon his love at first sight — 
 about his being captivated with Miss Selby. 
 She spoke of her beauty — her sweetness of 
 disposition — her — her — ^^ tout ensemble^ I 
 would say, is so perfect — her figure exqui- 
 site! Can you wonder, Mr. Selby — you who 
 are acknowledged to be a connoisseur in 
 beauty — can you wonder that my nephew 
 was captivated by your lovely daughter ? and
 
 HARDEN HALL. 255 
 
 that I^ forg-etting- the want of present means 
 on liis part^ warmly seconded his suit. Even- 
 tually^ of course^ he will succeed his uncle. 
 That we have as yet failed must alwa^'s be 
 a disappointment. But^ perhaps/' she con- 
 tinued^ in an animated^ g-ay tone^ ^^ we have 
 not failed. Perhaps Mr. Selby is now so 
 impatient to see Mr. Read_, that he may settle 
 all the essential articles of marriao-e.'^ 
 
 ^^ Cease^ Lady Julia ! — I entreat you : say no 
 more. And let me now tell you that I have posi- 
 tively forbidden my daug'hter ever more to hold 
 any intercourse whatever with your nephew : 
 I have prohibited her ever coming' to this 
 house. And I now wait to tell your nephew 
 that I am aware of some part of his former 
 life 5 that — awful to relate — hints have been 
 given me of his being* already married (which^ 
 God forbid !) to some foreigner. Should he 
 ag-ain attempt to annoy my daughter^ I shall 
 commence legal proceedings against him. 
 Tins is the purport of my visit^ Lady Julia. 
 My daughter detests a wretch who would 
 have sunk her into the depths of shame and 
 misery : though Heaven forbid she should 
 ever hear more than that his character is dis- 
 reputable ! I wish her not to know^ so early
 
 256 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 in life^ the frightful excesses \^ hich I am given 
 to understand have been committed by your 
 nephew 3 nor to have her pure mind tarnished 
 by hearing- of such vices. She has throug'hout 
 this sad affair shown a strength and energy of 
 character which has delighted me. Eemem- 
 ber, Lady Julia^ I speak; not in wrath and 
 anger^ but in sorrow of heart 3 to think that 
 such wickedness should exist amona* those 
 who^ from their station in life^ ought to set a 
 better example. And now^ Lady Julia^ after 
 what has passed^ it is useless for you to deny 
 that you know not Avhere your nephew is 
 concealed^ — for I move not till he appears.^' 
 
 Lady Julia positively shook in her chair 
 from excess of rage. But what most vexed her 
 was^ that Mr. Selby should have discovered that 
 there was an indelible stain on her nephew's 
 character^ and should have it in his power to 
 make public his failure in seeking- to win his 
 daughter. And^ after all^ to fail in obtaining 
 Miss Selby's fortune — which she persisted in 
 believing was something considerable — was 
 almost more than she could bear. She knew, 
 however^ she was likel}^ to gain more by 
 swimming with the stream than struggling 
 against its current j so^ bursting into a flood of
 
 HARDEN HALL. 257 
 
 tears^ and covering' her face with the finest 
 lace handkerchief, in a voice hroken by sobs^ 
 she exchiimed^ '' Oh^ Mr. Selby^ what have 
 3'ou said?— Avhat cruel words? My. nephew 
 married^ as you have insinuated! — the bare 
 idea fills me with horror ! — married ? — how 
 cruel ! What Avickedness ! thus to blacken his 
 character ! Indeed_, indeed^ Mr. Selby^ I 
 loved your child. I thoug'ht her so suited in 
 every way to my dear nephew (Mr. Selb}'^ 
 could scarcely forbear smiling- at these words) ^ 
 I thouo'ht Aiio'ustus charmino- and her not 
 less so : indeed^ I am astonished that you 
 should thus defame his character to me who 
 am so nearly related to him. Can you think 
 it possible that I could countenance such a 
 character as you have insinuated my nephew 
 to be ? — that I could urge him to pa}^ such 
 marked attention to your daug-hter ? Really^ 
 Mr. Selby^ from one in your profession^ I 
 should not have expected such base and in- 
 jurious suspicions.'^ 
 
 '^ Will you listen to me^ Lady Julia ?" coldly 
 interrupted Mr. Selby; ''1 do not say Mr. 
 Read is married * I merely stated the reports 
 I have heard f and he repeated^ in a slow^ 
 measured tone^ all that Miss had men- 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 tioned to his daug-liter. Lady Julia did not 
 dare trust herself to look at Mr. Selby^ but 
 keeping' the handkerchief firmly pressed over 
 her face^ she remained perfectl}^ silent during* 
 this recital. He concluded by asking*, in a 
 solemn manner, whether she denied his state- 
 ment — that there were parts in Mr. Bead's 
 character too black to be looked over ? There 
 was something*, even to Lady Julia, rather 
 awful in telling* such a downrig'ht falsehood. 
 Five minutes passed away : she made no 
 answer : she felt that his eyes were fixed 
 intensely on her: ten minutes elapsed before 
 she uncovered her face : when, wiping* her 
 eyes, and hastily rising*, she with violence 
 drew down the blind, exclaiming*, '^ Mr. Selby, 
 astonishment has hitherto kept me silent. I 
 deny your statement. I do deny such 
 baseness. I do deny the chief of your com- 
 plaints. That a youthful flirtation was once 
 carried on, I will not attempt to disprove 3 
 but I do deny that you have any rig*ht what- 
 ever thus to force yourself on one who has 
 certainly never injured you, and thus abuse 
 a defenceless woman and her innocent nephew 
 before her fjxce. I assert such conduct to be 
 totally unworthy of one calling* himself a g*en-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 259 
 
 tleman;'^ she stoppecl_, a little startled to see 
 that Mr. Selbv was writino* down all she said : 
 ^^ and I demand/^ she continued^ with g-reater 
 eifrontery and assurance^ — ^^ I demand/^ 
 raising- her voice^ '^ what business you have 
 to cross-question me as to any of my 
 actions. What was Mr. Selby to her/ she 
 added^ ^^ that she was oblig'ed to answer all the 
 questions he chose to ask : thing's/' she con- 
 tinued^ in an ang-ry tone^ '^ have indeed come 
 to a pretty pass when a lady is thus insulted 
 in her own house P 
 
 During- all this storm^ Mr. Selby remained 
 l^erfectly calm and collected^ wondering- if 
 her ano'ry tones would ever cease ) — at length 
 he beg'an : — 
 
 ^^ Nothing-^ Lady Julia — nothing- would g*ive 
 me so much pleasure as to feel quite certain 
 that your nephew's character was unimpeach- 
 able. Present appearances seem^ certainly^ 
 strong-ly ag-ainst him; and among'st his own 
 sex he is but little esteemed ; still if he can 
 prove himself perfectly free from blame^ or/' 
 he added^ ^^from crime^ I shall be rejoiced: 
 thoug'h^ at the same time^ I positively declare 
 my daug-hter shall never marry him." 
 
 This was said in such a decided manner 
 
 s 2
 
 260 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 that Lady Julia felt very uncomfortable as to 
 the result; and visions of bills unpaid^ and 
 creditors clamorous for payment^ floated dis- 
 agreeably through her disturbed brain. Still 
 she knew there was nothing* like g'aining* time ; 
 and stifling her anger, she resumed her seat, 
 and began wondering when her nephew would 
 appear. Mr. Selby finding, at length, that 
 the whole day was slipping away, bethought 
 himself that perhaps at Mr. Read's club he 
 might hear something of him. He again 
 repeated his assurance to Lady Julia that 
 nothing* would ever induce his daughter to 
 marry her nephew ; that he positively forbade 
 all further intercourse ; that his daughter's 
 happiness had been much disturbed by all this 
 affair; and that, unless Mr. Bead desisted 
 from all further importunities, he should be 
 under the necessity of resorting- to more vigo- 
 rous measures. As he was in the act of taking- 
 leave, he turned quickly round, saying, ^^I 
 feel sure that ^^our ladyship is acquainted with 
 your nephew's place of concealment. Another 
 day he may perhaps have decided on the 
 right course, and have made up his mind to 
 meet me." 
 
 As Lady Julia bowed her visitor out of the
 
 HARDEN HALL. 261 
 
 room^ she probably wished^ as the famous 
 Madame Montesson did on a similar occasion^ 
 that he would never again make his appear- 
 ance there.
 
 262 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Scarcely was the street-door closed^ when a 
 slig"ht noise was perceptible on one side of the 
 room^ and throug-h a small door^ who should 
 enter but Mr. Read^ looking- as pleased as 
 possible. 
 
 ^^ Well^ my dear aunt^ you have foug-ht my 
 battle manfully^ and I am under eternal 
 obligations to you. The old buck was rather 
 a stiffish kind of fellow^ eh^ Lad}^ Julia ? I 
 doubt whether I should have settled him so 
 well myself. Ha ! ha I ha ! I could never 
 have stayed cooped up there so long*^ had I 
 not been hig-hly amused by the old parson's 
 talk y more especially with the fine flourish at 
 the end of his speech^ forbidding- me positively 
 from making- any further attempts to g-et hold 
 of his little g'irl. Ha ! ha ! ha ! that was 
 really too g'ood. But what a state you worked 
 yourself up intOj aunt ! Bless me ! I thought
 
 HAKDEX. HALL. 263 
 
 you would at one time have scratched the 
 fellow's eyes out/' 
 
 '' Better have scratched his ears off; for I 
 can tell you he hears a great deal too quickl}^ 
 But a truce to this joking*^ and tell me^ 
 nephew_, how you could be such a fool as to 
 let this Spanish flirtation ever become known. 
 You are really a greater idiot than I took you 
 for. A pretty person you are to toil for day 
 and nig-ht, and then for me to discover that vou 
 have been disgracing* yourself by flirting to 
 such a degree with a Spanish singer! — a 
 Spanish girl of mean birth — even going such 
 lengths that old Selby positively declares he 
 heard you were married. Ay^ that he did : 
 he declares hints were o-iven that such was the 
 case. Are you not ashamed of yourself? — Are 
 you not " 
 
 ^* Lady Julia^ I am no longer a child \ so 
 hold your tongue^ or else speak to me in a 
 more becoming manner." 
 
 ^•' More becoming manner^ indeed ! Am I 
 to bear such unheard of rudeness from a 
 country parson — to be subjected to vile suspi- 
 cions — to have my name mixed up with dis- 
 gTaceful histories for your sake^ and then not 
 receive a little gratitude? Beg'one^ sir^ and
 
 264 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 let me never see you ag'aiii. Beg^one hence, 
 and return to 3^our Spanish love ! Go^ and 
 see the merchant's claug'hter ! Go ! This is 
 the end of all my speculations : — you show 
 yourself unworthy of them." As she said 
 thiS; she was greatly excited, and exclaimed, 
 " So it is all up with Miss Selby ! No fortune 
 of hers will ever benefit you^ or enable you to 
 live luxuriously. No advantag-es shall accrue 
 to you from her appointment in the house- 
 hold. I give you up entirely for the future. 
 I have been working- like a g'alley slave to 
 advance your suit." 
 
 ^^ And to pay your own bills, Lady Julia " 
 interrupted her nephew, in a sneering' tone. 
 
 ^^ Peace!" she screamed; ^^peace^ or you 
 will drive me mad. You are a g'ood-for- 
 nothing* wretch ! A pretty mess 3^ou have 
 made of this affair." 
 
 '^ I tell you what^ Lady Julia ; if you beard 
 me much longer^ you Avill rue it ! I could 
 tell you something to make you start with 
 horror. I could " 
 
 ^^ Oh ! say on^ say on ; do not let any 
 attention to my feelings prevent your speaking 
 plainly. You are so considerate : it is de- 
 lightful ! You learnt it, of course, of the fair 
 Spaniard."
 
 HARDEN HALL. 265 
 
 '^ By Jove ! I will not stand this any 
 long-er. Lady Julia^ I am married ! ay^ mar- 
 ried to one who^ to deceive you^ I have called 
 a Spanisli g'irl. I am married to an Eng-lish 
 girl : one^ too^ whom you shall own as your 
 niece." 
 
 ^^ Oh ! Augustus^ you have killed me ! It 
 is false : you are lying* : tell me so^ or else : — 
 WTetch ! — proflig-ate^ abandoned wretch ! — ii}^ 
 from my sig'ht ! Married ! M3- brain is on fire 
 — I do not believe this report^ Mr. Selby : I do 
 not believe it. Ha ! ha ! your daughter is 
 the bride — ha ! ha ! — my nephew — ha ! ha ! — 
 married! and Miss Selby's rich — ah! — and 
 
 good — you have ki — 11 — ed " such violent 
 
 hysterics here came on as to choke further 
 utterance. 
 
 Eeally shocked at the state of excitement 
 she was in^ her nephew led her to the sofa^ 
 and oblio'ed her to lie down. With o-reat 
 difficulty he kept her quiet : the fever in her 
 brain seemed to increase : she was evidently 
 raving with delirium. Seriously alarmed^ he 
 rang the bell^ and desired the footman to send 
 Lady Julia's maid^ and to call in a medical 
 man. Promptly were his orders executed ] 
 and a few hours afterwards^ she was com-
 
 266 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 paratively herself: though at intervals speak- 
 ing- of Miss Selby as the cause of all her 
 suiFerings ; and still returning to the dreadful 
 truth that Mr. Eead was married. Towards 
 nighty she became^ however, composed : and 
 after administering strong opiates, the phy- 
 sician withdrew. 
 
 Though highly exasperated with Lady Julia, 
 her delectable nephew felt only too keenly that 
 he could not exist an hour without her ready 
 wit to extricate him from all difficulties. 
 Accordingly, at twelve o'clock the following 
 day he bent his steps to Manchester Square ; 
 he found Lady Julia pale indeed from all 
 the excitement of the preceding day, but other- 
 wise quite herself. She received him in the 
 most chilling manner ; scarcely deigning to 
 answer him. He looked unutterable things, 
 and approaching the ottoman on Avhich she 
 sat, leant over her, entreating her forgiveness — 
 entreating her to restore him to favour. She 
 shook her head. He spoke with still greater 
 vehemence of his sorrow : of the agony he had 
 endured the previous night. 
 
 " Could it equal mine, Augustus V she said. 
 ^^ Oh ! is it really true that you are married ?" 
 
 He looked aghast, but said, ^^ Lady Julia,
 
 HARDEN HALL. 267 
 
 kind as you have ever been to me^ liear me, 
 I was very young* ^ I hardly knew you. I — 
 I — was left a g'ood deal to myself. I — did 
 marry a — a — merchant's daughter ! '' 
 
 '^ A merchant's daughter !'' 
 
 '^ Yes^ a merchant's daughter. But I have 
 not seen her for ages : know nothing* of her. 
 Now^ dear aunt^ listen to me. You alone love 
 me. My wife detests me^ hates me^ spurns 
 me from her sig^ht^ and lives Avith her rich old 
 uncle in the city. No one knows she is re- 
 lated to me. Will you not forgive this youthful 
 imprudence ? will you not again give me hopes 
 — hopes of some day possessing* Miss Selby V* 
 
 '^ Good Heavens ! Augustus^ you are mad !" 
 
 '^ ISo, dearest aunt^ not mad^ but ruined^ — 
 irretrievably ruined if you will not aid and 
 counsel me ; if you will not forget that you 
 ever heard of this unfortunate marriage^ and 
 let me ao-ain belono- to you as a marrvino; 
 man ] as one ready to accept Miss Selby 
 directly^ if she pleases." 
 
 'c But— " 
 
 ^^ ^0 buts^ dearest aunt ; really you must 
 do as I wish." 
 
 ^^ But what would the world say to us? 
 How could we defend such morality as this V^
 
 268 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 Lady Julia feared no liig-her reproach than 
 that inflicted by the world : she feared not the 
 ang'er of a jealous God. 
 
 ^^ There will be no occasion to defend it. 
 You shall tell Mr. Selby I am out of town. I 
 would not see him for the world. Tell him from 
 me^ that as a lad I did flirt most desperately 
 with a Spaniard^ but nothing- more.'' 
 
 '^ Really I am half frig-htened at doing" such 
 thinofs : but such thino*s have been done and 
 said before; and there is many a character 
 now deemed irreproachable no better in 
 reality than your own.'' 
 
 ^^ Then you will consent to my plan ?" 
 
 ^^ Yes^ I will do all in my power to promote 
 your welfare : but/' she added, eag-erly, '^ on 
 one condition alone ; which is, that you g'ive 
 yourself up entirely to my view of the case, 
 and follow promptly all my sug'g-estions. Still, 
 Augustus, this really does seem such an 
 iniquitous affair that I don't think I can 
 consent to it." 
 
 Her nephew was on the point of replying*, 
 when the door opened, and the servant an- 
 nounced that there were two creditors below, 
 so pressing in their demands that he could not 
 get rid of them.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 269 
 
 Lady Julia started^ and her companion 
 looked expressively at her. '^ Send them 
 away/' she said : " I have no money." 
 
 " They will take no denial^ my lady j and 
 the milliner says she has already waited 
 two years^ and must now have five hundred 
 pounds." 
 
 '' Good Heavens ! Leave us_, and tell her 
 to return to-morrow. We are particularly en- 
 g-ag'ed^ and cannot now attend to such people." 
 
 The footman withdrew^ and Mr. Eead^ 
 seizing' with avidity on these circumstances^ 
 urg-ed still more vehemently the necessity of 
 his marrying" an heiress to extricate them from 
 all their difficulties. 
 
 The importunity of two such larg'e creditors 
 convinced Lady Julia that it was absolutely 
 expedient to comply with her nephew's wishes ; 
 and she now told him she would forg-et his 
 past life^ and think only of promoting' his 
 union with Miss Selby. He pleaded his ex- 
 treme youth as an excuse for all past sins j 
 and arg-ued that the woman preferred at 
 eighteen is g-enerally very different from the 
 favoured one of a more mature ag-e. '' I love 
 Miss Selby/' he continued^ ^Hier very aversion 
 to me makes me love her more. And now^
 
 270 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 dearest aunt^ we must concoct some plan of 
 operations." 
 
 The first thing* that Lady Julia insisted on 
 was that Mr. Eead, as they had hefore agreed^ 
 should not see Mr. Selby. This might be 
 easily accomplished : and after cogitating* over 
 various plans^ and finding' some objection to 
 all_, it was settled that the best expedient 
 would be for Mr. Read to go to some hotel 
 in town^ where he was not known^ and 
 remain there under a feigned name^ until Mr. 
 Selby's departure for Torrington. He might 
 leave a letter on the table to his uncle and 
 aunt^ stating he had been persuaded by some 
 young friends to take a short continental tour ; 
 that his aunt might keep up the deception 
 (the nephew did not doubt her ability to do 
 this) ; and as of course Mr. Selby would natu- 
 rally wish speedily to return home^ the false- 
 hood need only be kept up a few days. 
 
 ^^ But the wife^ — yotir wife/^ repeated Lady 
 Julia^ ^^ she must be kept quite out of sight. 
 Miss Selby knows nothing about her: she 
 merely hears that there are awkward stories 
 afloat about the wildness of your former life. 
 We will concede this pointy as it will act as a 
 blind to her family^ and prevent their fancying
 
 HARDEN HALL. 271 
 
 anything- worse. If you had not been such a 
 fool as to marry^ all would have succeeded 
 admh'ably. Miss Selby never appeared to 
 me to dislike you : besides^ many a girl accepts 
 a man whom she has once refused. But 
 who could have told her anything* about 
 you ? Something* must be done : such thing's 
 have been heard of as destrovino- the reo-ister : 
 and then the marriag*e could not be proved. 
 Something* decisive^ I repeat^ must be done_, 
 to keep this woman in the background ; for 
 all our best schemes will be ruined should her 
 existence become known. However^ it is too 
 late this afternoon to do anything*^ so take 
 your departure^ and do not let me see you till 
 3'ou hear from me. Leave your address^ so 
 that if I want your aid^ I may send for you. 
 Adieu ! may we g*o on and prosper. But 
 stop ! — did I tell you that Colonel Selwyn has 
 appeared ag-ain^ and means to move heaven 
 and earth to g-et hold of Miss Selby ? And I 
 have this mornino* heard from mv P-reat 
 
 friendj the Duchess of Z ^ who says 
 
 her Majesty appears much pleased with 
 her new maid of honour^ and had been 
 heard to say^ jokingly^ she hoped no one 
 would think of marrying* her. Several more
 
 272 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 falsehoods did Lady Julia string- tog-ether^ to 
 show her nephew of what consequence Miss 
 Selby was^ and what a grand coup it would be 
 if he could succeed in winning* her. She 
 declaimed about our heroine's beauty and ac- 
 complishments 5 vowing' she had the most 
 fascinating' manner^ the Avhitest arm and hand^ 
 and prettiest foot in town. Now that her /^?y 
 scruples were overcome by the hope of g-ain- 
 ing- her fortune^ she was most eag*er to pro- 
 mote the scheme of her nephew's marriag'e , 
 stipulating-^ however^ that she should be the 
 prime mover in the whole affair. 
 
 Lady Julia had not lived half a century 
 without being- fully aware that nothing* was 
 so likely to make her nephew attend to her 
 sug'g'estions^ and follow up keenly his pursuit 
 of Miss Selby^ as firmly persuading* him that 
 the 3'oung- lady was enamoured of him. 
 At present she did not perceive clearly how 
 this was to be done 3 but she thoug'ht^ that by 
 means of a letter^ something* tang'ible mig'ht 
 be obtained to show him as a proof of her 
 aifection for him. Her active mind was already 
 very busy with a variety of schemes. 
 
 The nepheW; delig-hted at her cordial co- 
 operation^ resig-ned everything' into her hands^
 
 HARDEN HALL. 273 
 
 and then prepared^ after profuse thanks and 
 much g-ratitude^ to depart; but as he Avas 
 leaving- the room^ he turned quickly round^ 
 and inquired if she had seen her old servant 
 Howell lately. She replied in the affirmative. 
 He then said it had occurred to him that 
 something* mig-ht he gained by placing her 
 with his wife — as the latter was ill^ and 
 required a nurse: but that Lady Julia w^as 
 the best judge of all these matters ; and that 
 if she would kindly take the matter in hand, 
 it would doubtless succeed. 
 
 We will now see what has become of Mr. 
 Selby. 
 
 VOL. T,
 
 274 HARDE^■ HALL. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 Aftek leaving* Lady Julia Read^ Mr. Selby 
 resolved to take a turn in the park^ to shake 
 off the agitation and commotion of mind into 
 which he had been thrown. Ang-ry and vexed 
 as he was at his whole interview with this 
 violent woman^ he was not one to give way to 
 wrathful thoug-hts. The more he reflected on 
 all he had heard and seen^ the more g-rateful he 
 felt that his darlino- child had been saved from 
 the certain misery which the proposed con- 
 nexion with such a man would have occasioned 
 her^ and the becoming- domesticated with a 
 woman of such a despicable character as the 
 one he had just left. This^ he reflected^ is one of 
 the many instances in which those endued with 
 talents^ and possessed of advantages denied 
 to the generality of mankind^ and gifted with 
 the means of doing extensive good^ pervert
 
 HARDEN HALL. 275 
 
 tlieir talents to the worst purposes^ and 
 train up their children in the same pernicious 
 paths. And yet^ thought he^ ^^ I douht not that 
 this very Lady Julia would have felt horrified at 
 the hare idea of a woman in humhler life trying* 
 to o'loss over what I am convinced her nephew 
 has been g'uilty of. I feel^ from her manner^ 
 he is married. Oh^ fearful depravity ! It 
 is g'enerally the case that they who are the 
 least virtuous themselves^ pay some little 
 respect to those who aim at a hig-her standard 
 of perfection * and express the g^reatest detes- 
 tation of sins which are but too often the result 
 of that oToss io'norance that debases one- 
 third of the population in this country : highly 
 favoured as it undoubtedly is in many respects." 
 As Mr. Selby walked on^ completely ab- 
 sorbed in these bitter reflections^ he could not 
 but feel deeply wounded and g-rieved that his 
 daughter^ on her first appearance in the world^ 
 should have such a disagreeable awakening* 
 from those dreams of youth and pleasure with 
 which she had contemplated her first season 
 in the ga}^ metropolis ) and he resolved that 
 the sun should not have risen many hours, 
 before he again found his way to Manchester- 
 square, to endeavour to obtain an interview 
 
 T 2
 
 270 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 with the young-er Mr. Eead. Were there not 
 something" radically wrong* about him^ Mr. 
 Selby felt^ he would have confronted him and 
 denied all these injurious suspicions ; as it was^ 
 he tacitly admitted them by not attempting* to 
 disprove them : and again this g*ood father 
 thanked the Almighty for having* preserved 
 his daug*hter from forming* such an attach- 
 ment. 
 
 In pursuance of the resolution adopted by 
 Mr. Selby the previous afternoon^ the following- 
 morning* saw him^ at an early hour^ at Mr. 
 Read's door ^ early for a London visit^ thoug*h 
 the clock had struck eleven some time before : 
 indeed^ the streets were already filled with that 
 w^ondrous mass of human being-s, whom busi- 
 ness had called forth from their numerous 
 haunts to their daily occupations. 
 
 On inquiring* for Mr. Aug*ustus Read^ Mr. 
 Selby was respectfully informed that he had 
 left town. The suspicion that this w^as a sub- 
 terfuge to avoid seeing* him^ made the blood 
 mantle in Mr. Selby's manly brow : but 
 quickly suppressing* all emotion^ he requested 
 to see Lady Julia ; and without more ado, 
 walked into the hall. The servant civilly 
 requested to know his name^ and immediately
 
 HARDEN HALL. 277 
 
 the French hutler^ turning' insolently round, 
 said^ '^ Madamey n^esf pas visible a tel qvs 
 lui f so apt and ready are servants to take 
 the cue from those above them. Lady Julia 
 returned answer by the footman^ who was 
 obliging- enoug-h to g'o and inquire^ — that suf- 
 fering* much from head-ache would prevent her 
 having' the pleasure of seeing* Mr. Selby ; she^ 
 therefore^ presented her compliments to him^ 
 and would not detain him any long*er. After 
 being- refused^ it was rather a difficult matter 
 for a g-entleman to persist in seeing* a lady in 
 her own house^ whether she would or not ; and 
 had not Mr. Selby felt that he owed it to his 
 daug-hter to persist in his request^ it is pro- 
 bable he would have retired : as it was^ he 
 beg'g-ed the servant to let Lady Julia know 
 that he would wait her leisure. The domestic^ 
 more well-bred than his mistress, led the way 
 to the drawing*-room. 
 
 As Mr. Selby gianced round the room, he 
 had time to examine the innumerable little 
 nick-nacks with which it was crowded ; — Ger- 
 man-^lass vases, Dresden-china ornaments, 
 ottomans embroidered in the most costly man- 
 ner, hot-house plants of every hue, and lovely 
 from their luxuriant gTowth : almost every
 
 278 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 description of easy chair that this most lux- 
 urious of all ages has invented^ and various 
 articles of costly workmanship were crowded 
 into this really beautiful saloon. Mr. Selby felt 
 doubly gratified that his daughter had steadily 
 rejected the man who would have made her 
 mistress of all this profusion : for at her age 
 these things are more prized than later in 
 life. To a man like Mr. Selby^ accustomed 
 to be constantly and profitably employed^ it 
 was irksome^ in the highest degree, to be left 
 thus idling through the greatest part of a 
 summer's day. The books scattered on the 
 table were not likely to interest him : Eugene 
 Sue's last French novels^ illustrated with such 
 pictures that it was a disgrace to any lady to 
 have seen on her table^ were mingled with 
 some of the worst specimens of English novels 
 of the day. As Mr. Selby turned them over^ one 
 after another^ he began to despair of finding 
 anything congenial to his turn of mind ; then, 
 as a last resource^ he walked to the further end 
 of the room^ where stood a small cabinet, ex- 
 quisitely carved and inlaid with mother of pearl. 
 It was so beautiful that it allowed of veryminute 
 examination; and was of that peculiar style 
 of workmanship which, in the time of Cardinal
 
 HARDEN HALL. 270 
 
 Wolsey, was so famous. Such cabinets are 
 sometimes seen in houses bearing- that date : the 
 solid oak or cedar of which they are made is 
 worked into such different shapes and forms^ 
 that we wonder how the ino-enious artist could 
 ever have invented them. On opening' the 
 doors of the upper part^ are seen eight little 
 drawers^ having* on each a portrait represent- 
 ing* one of the celebrated characters of the 
 sixteenth century^ — the principal fig-ure being- 
 the Cardinal himself. On touching* a secret 
 spring*^ in the inside of these drawers^ at the 
 further end of each^ out springs a little 
 drawer^ which is so cleverly hid that it is 
 only discoverable by the initiated few. Mr. 
 Selby did not^ of course^ venture to open 
 the door^ so that the drawers were not visible 
 to him ; but the author deemed it might not 
 be uninteresting* to some readers to have 
 that described which is not frequently met 
 with. In vain we try to rival these beautiful 
 productions of our forefathers. How far more 
 beautiful were their devices than ours : their 
 Louis Quatorze glasses are most highly es- 
 teemed : again^ the old-fashioned chatelains 
 which our grandmothers wore^ even these can- 
 not be made now so handsome and solid as 
 heretofore.
 
 S80 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 Ample time was alloAved to Mr. Selby to 
 examine all the articles of vertu with which 
 Lady Julia's room abounded; for the clock 
 had announced that the hour of two was past, 
 when Mr. Selby thought he heard Lady Julia 
 approaching-: she was talking in a subdued tone, 
 it is true, yet still he fancied he recognised her 
 harsh, discordant voice. He ran to the door, 
 and on opening it perceived Lady Julia in 
 the act of descending, evidently equipped for 
 driving in the park. He stepped quickly to 
 her, saying, he would not detain her five 
 minutes ; but as he had been waiting three 
 hours, he must request her ladyship would 
 attend to him for this brief period. 
 
 Lady Julia's amazement was beyond de- 
 scription, and only equalled by her indig- 
 nation. That any one should presume to 
 dictate to her, and before .all the liveried at- 
 tendants, was too much : but there was some- 
 thing in Mr. Selby's very composed and 
 gentleman-like manner which awed her; and 
 not really knowing what to do, she led the 
 way in sullen silence to the drawing-room. 
 The door was hardly shut before the servants 
 gave a suppressed laugh, at the expense of 
 their mistress, — so ridiculous had she made 
 herself even in their eyes.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 281 
 
 Ag*ain Mr. Selby stated in clear and dis- 
 tinct terms^ that the object of his visit was 
 to obtain the place of her nephew's abode. She 
 replied^ that by a letter received that morning 
 she learned he had left Enofland for the Con- 
 tinent ] that not being' able to obtain Miss 
 Selby's consent^ and still loving* her deeply^ 
 he had thought it best for both parties that he 
 should leave London for a time. The surprise 
 and pleasure with which her visitor heard this 
 announcement was so great^ that Lady Julia 
 could scarcely suppress a smile. But sud- 
 denly it flashed across his mind^ Is this really 
 the case ? or is he only kept out of sight till 
 I leave town ? The thought rushed unbidden 
 into his mind^ and looking' steadily and fixedly 
 at Lady Julia^ he asked her if she felt certain 
 her nephew had gone ? if she thought he was 
 capable of doing that which was in fact the 
 only honourable course he could pursue? 
 Her ladyship replied^ he was capable of 
 anything- that was proper and honourable ; 
 and after receiving this letter^ she had never 
 doubted for a moment that he had left 
 Eno-land. 
 
 Though Mr. Selby's suspicions were pain- 
 fully roused to consider this merely a riise de
 
 282 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 guerre, he could do no more^ and took his 
 leave ; fervently hoping- that this was the last 
 interview he should ever have with Lady Julia 
 Bead. After quickty finishing* his other busi- 
 ness in town^ he repaired to Windsor^ and 
 was fortunate enoug'h to find his daug-hter at 
 liberty^ and overjoyed to see him. He related 
 all that he had done j but Catherine felt pain- 
 fully certain that Mr. Eead had not left Eng-- 
 land. She mentioned to her father^ that one 
 of the chief attractions she was supposed to 
 possess^ was having a large private fortune of 
 her own ; and he was greatly amused at such 
 an absurd idea. But^ weary and dispirited, 
 he felt that in point of fact he had done 
 nothing. He desired Catherine, should she 
 receive any more letters from her tormentor, 
 to return them unopened to Lady Julia : but 
 not to add a line herself 3 for he fully believed 
 her persecutor's character was so very bad, that 
 if he or Lady Julia once got hold of her signa- 
 ture,theymight make it serve their own purposes: 
 he even cautioned her to write the direction in 
 a feigned hand. After giving her the best ad- 
 vice, in the tenderest manner, this kind father 
 was obliged to tear himself away from his 
 truly amiable child ; humbly recommending
 
 HARDEN HALL. 283 
 
 her to the care of that g-reat and g-oocl God 
 who watches over all^ and who Mr. Selby felt 
 would effectually shield his sweet daughter^ 
 did she but firmly trust in Him. The parting- 
 was sad* and w^hat parting- between parent 
 and child can be otherwise ? The uncer- 
 tainty w^th which all thing's in this life are 
 surrounded^ fills even the most cheerful with 
 sad foreboding's ] and as Catherine wept on 
 her father's shoulder^ she felt how willing-ly 
 she would have g'iven up all the brilliant 
 advantag-es of her present situation to have 
 returned with him to her early home. But 
 she checked her tears^ and spoke cheerfully of 
 what now devolved upon her. Her father 
 also cheered her ] and so far succeeded in 
 drawing' her thoughts from herself^ that he 
 left her with a bright smile on that sunny 
 brow.
 
 284 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 In these days of railroads and expedition^ it 
 is quite a misfortune to be far from one of the 
 principal lines. So thought Mr. Selby^ when, 
 after quitting- the railroad, he was obliged to 
 proceed on his journey in the stage-coach. 
 Still, to him it was less irksome than to many ; 
 he had been accustomed to travelling by the 
 mail in earlier days, when going at the rate 
 of nine or ten miles an hour was considered 
 astonishing speed. His companions in the 
 coach were not likely to enliven the weary 
 way, and make it appear shorter. One was 
 an elderly woman, a housekeeper, with the 
 usual accompaniment of such useful old dames, 
 a huge basketful of sandwiches and apples — 
 pleasant companions in the inside of a car- 
 riage, on a hot summer's day. The only 
 other passenger was an aged gentleman-like 
 man, but so extremely deaf that he could not
 
 HARDEN HALL. 285 
 
 hear one word of anytlniig* that passed. But 
 the most th'esome journeys do at last come to 
 an end, and as the clock was strikino: seven 
 the coach rattled up the villag'e street^ and 
 halted at the sig'n of the ^^ Ploug-hshare f a 
 very appropriate name^ as the whole popula- 
 tion of Torrino'ton were ao-riculturists. Leav- 
 ing- his portmanteau in charg-e of the honest 
 landlady^ Mr. Selby set off to walk home ; and 
 as he did so the refreshing' evening' air revived 
 him much during- the short walk of a quarter 
 of a mile to his own house throug'h pleasant 
 fields^ at the bottom of which was the river 
 g"liding' quietly along* the valley; and the 
 pleasure he anticipated of meeting- his wife 
 and children put him in hig-h spirits. Nothing- 
 had occurred at the Eectory during- his ab- 
 sence ; all had gone on in one reg'ular routine^ 
 each one happy and contented. Scarcely was 
 his well-known footstep heard on the g-ravel 
 * walk^ when a jo3^ful shout was g'iven by little 
 Tiny ; who^ having- stationed himself so as to 
 get the first glimpse of his dear papa^ gave 
 notice to all within the house of his arrival ; 
 and very soon he was surrounded by his loving- 
 children^ headed by their sweet mother. The 
 sun was at the moment settings and as it glided
 
 286 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 behind the hills spread a golden hue around^ 
 lighting- up each one of this lovely group. 
 The nightingale in the acacia was heard war- 
 bling its clear sweet notes; and as Mr. and 
 Mrs. Selby looked round on their assembled 
 darlings^ they lifted up their hearts in grati- 
 tude to the great Giver of all. 
 
 Tiny was the first to break silence^ by ask- 
 ing after his sister ; his little voice was never 
 heard unheeded^ and smiling sweetly on his 
 3^oungest darlings Mr. Selby answered all his 
 questions. ^^And now^ my loves/' he con- 
 tinued^ ^^ the dew begins to fall^ and I think we 
 ought to return to the house ; for though the 
 weather is fine^ we must not forget our pru- 
 dence at this early season of the year.^' 
 Even the few days he had been absent had 
 made a considerable difference in the foliage 
 of the trees ; several which were not quite out 
 at his departure were now clothed in all 
 their beauty^ especially some fine lilac bushes^ 
 which appeared almost ready to burst into 
 flower. It was such an evening as is seldom 
 known in this favoured isle till the spring is 
 far advanced : for with regret it must be ac- 
 knowledged^ that the pleasures of an English 
 spring are too often more in the poet's imagi-
 
 HARDEN HALL. 2B7 
 
 nation tlum in stern reality. The little 
 drawing-room at Torring'ton Eectory appeared 
 the chosen abode of peace and beauty. The bow- 
 window^ opening- into the g-arden^ was occupied 
 by a small table^ on which stood the cag-e con- 
 taining- the beautiful African parrot : a prime 
 favourite with all the young-er part of the 
 community^ as he talked and laug-hed inimi- 
 tably ! On the rig-ht side was a small rose- 
 wood cabinet, containing- shells and other 
 curiosities, collected by the Eector's elder sons 
 in foreig-n lands ', the left was occupied with a 
 little work-table, which had been given by her 
 grandmother to Catherine, and on which 
 stood several pieces of old china, some of them 
 collected from different cottao-es in the vil- 
 lag-e 3 light wicker chairs completed all that 
 the bow-window contained, and made it a 
 perfect little room in itself. Various kinds of 
 chairs and tables were dispersed about the 
 room, in that kind of tidi/ untidiness, if we 
 may be forgiven the seeming contradiction, 
 which appears to be the great merit of our 
 modern sitting-rooms. Glasses of flowers, 
 tastefully arranged, were grouped about on 
 the different tables j the pianoforte was open,
 
 288 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 and drawino- materials scattered about added 
 much to the appearance of refined enjoyment 
 and comfort that was visible in the whole 
 apartment. The table-cloth was now laid^ and 
 tea soon followed. Mr. Selby sat down to 
 relate all his adventures. Innumerable were 
 the questions about Catherine: and had he 
 seen the Queen ? and did her Majesty like 
 Catherine ? and was she this^ and was she 
 that? Mr. Selby smiled at their impatience 
 and curiosity^ and answered all their inter- 
 rog'ations with the greatest g'ood humour. 
 After the little party had retired for the 
 nig-ht^ and Mrs. Selby and Susan were left 
 alone with our traveller^ he began explain- 
 ing* how matters stood between Mr. Eead and 
 Catherine. 
 
 ^^ First of all/^ exclaimed his wife^ ^^ tell 
 me, does our child care for or like this Mr. 
 Read?'' 
 
 ^^ Not at all : she cannot bear him ; she has 
 not the slightest regard for him, my dear/' 
 replied her husband ; '^ she dislikes his man- 
 ners, his conversation, his person — everything'^ 
 in short, connected with him \ and of course her 
 dislike increases daily, from the manner in
 
 HARDEN HALL. 289 
 
 which he persecutes her. AVhy^ will 3'ou be- 
 lieve it^ that three clays ag-o he had the au- 
 dacity to g'o to Windsor^ and request an 
 interview with our daughter ! Letter after 
 letter has followed this piece of impertinence, 
 and the last time she heard of him he even 
 wished to name the day for their union ! 
 Such extreme audacity is really unheard 
 of. I have not succeeded in seeino- the 
 wretched young- man — for wretched I must 
 call one so utterly devoid of all principle. 
 Twice I called, and spent half the day with 
 Lady Julia- who really, without exception, 
 is the most disagreeahle person I ever met 
 with." 
 
 He then related the substance of his inter- 
 view with her. Mrs. Selby felt her blood 
 boil at the indignities this woman had heaped 
 on her daughter, by the systematic attack she 
 had made upon her. 
 
 ^^ And how has our noble girl borne all this 
 persecution ?" said she. '^ How has she — who 
 had scarcely before mixed in the world without 
 the shelter of our presence — how has she buf- 
 feted against this heartless Lady Julia ? '^ 
 
 '^ Wonderfully well,'' replied her husband ', 
 ^^ her composure and strength of mind have 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 HAKDEN HALL. 
 
 been surprising- ; she has never wavered in the 
 slig'htest deg-ree : never g-iven Eead a shadow 
 of hope. Her health has not suffered; but 
 she is nervous^ and lives in dread of what 
 he will do next. What chiefly vexes and 
 annoys her^ is the publicity with which Lady 
 Julia has talked and discussed the whole 
 affair; inserting- parag-raphs in the 3Iorning 
 Post, stating- the match as about to take 
 place very soon. Heaven forg-ive me^ if I 
 wrong- her ! but I cannot help suspecting 
 that she did publish them. She tried for a 
 long- time to convince me that her nephew 
 was very charming- and g-ood; but seeing- 
 that I knew much more than she suspected 
 of his real character^ she maintained a sullen 
 silence." 
 
 " Is it possible ? What is really the case ? " 
 exclaimed Mrs. Selby^ starting- up^ her fine 
 face becoming- crimson. '^ Is it really true 
 that he dares offer his hand to my child^ 
 when that hand is for ever the property of 
 another ? '' 
 
 " Calm yourself, dearest love ! you cannot 
 be more indig-nant^ more ang-ry^ than I am 
 about the whole affair : but this fearful 
 crime is not yet proved^ so that we must hope
 
 HARDEN HALL. 291 
 
 it is not yet quite so bad. Stilly whatever 
 has happened in his early life Avill prove an 
 insuperable barrier to the connexion^ should 
 Catherine ever relent in his favour ; Avhich I 
 trust and firmly believe will never be the 
 case. If our worst suspicions prove true^ 
 it is a barrier which nothing- but death 
 can dissolve; and wretched as the existence 
 of his poor wife must be^ I cannot but 
 hope that if there is such a person she 
 may be discovered^ and broug-ht to identify this 
 proflig-ate young* man as her husband. What 
 Lady Julia urges is ver}^ true^ that Eead is 
 a very common name^ and that to believe this 
 scandalous histor}'^ merely on the assertion of 
 
 Miss J (thus he wrote to Catherine) is 
 
 unjust towards him. I would not permit her 
 to answer this letter; but^ having strong- 
 reasons for suspecting- the story was true^ for- 
 bad him ever to approach the house^ or ever 
 again to annoy my daughter. Should they 
 by chance meet in society^ I cautioned her 
 against showing- him the slightest sign of 
 recognition." 
 
 After a little more conversation on this^ 
 to them^ most interesting subject^ Susan ap- 
 peared so extremely tired and exhausted^ 
 
 u 2
 
 292 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 that her mother proposed their retiring- for 
 the nig'ht; gTateful that her child was well^ 
 • and had shown^ under tliese difficult circum- 
 stances^ such an amount of moral courage and 
 g-ood feeling'.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 293 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Our readers have not^ we trusty forgotten a most 
 interesting' young- mother and child that were 
 saved from destitution^ taken to a comfortable 
 home^ and treated with unbounded kindness and 
 liberality by their kind relative^ Mr. Brown. 
 For two months this unfortunate woman lived 
 there in more happiness and comfort than had 
 been her portion for man}' along-aweary day. Her 
 uncle^ indeed^ g-ave up everything- to her ; and 
 her little boy beg-an to thrive : his pale cheeks 
 acquired a little bloom. Still poor Mary Read^ 
 thoug-li she felt truly thankful for so many 
 blessing's^ could never feel happy: happiness 
 in this world seemed to have fled from her. 
 It was long- since she had heard aug'ht of 
 her husband j and the reflection that when 
 she was dead and g'one her beloved child would 
 stand alone in the world^ often quite unnerved 
 her : she had learnt^ however^ to put her 
 trust in One who never fails^ in the hour of 
 need and ajSliction^ to support his feeble 
 servants. Her uncle^ kind good man as he
 
 294 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 was^ told her that as long* as he lived she 
 must stay with him ; that she was his sole 
 comfort • and that whatever happened he 
 would take charge of her son. With tears 
 of thankfulness^ she murmured her g-rateful 
 thanks. She felt that her days were num- 
 bered. A dreadful cough^ which allowed no 
 rest day or nighty and excessive debility^ 
 were symptoms too alarming' to give her much 
 hope. Her constitution was broken^ and she 
 felt herself^ like thousands of her fellow- 
 sufferers in our crowded towns^ sinking- into 
 the g'rave ; the victim of the neglect and breach 
 of faith of one who, even to this moment^ she 
 fondly loved. 
 
 Strang-e^ surpassing' strange it is^ that in 
 woman's hearty where she really loves^ no 
 neglect^ no ill usage^ no harshness can extin- 
 guish that love : it seems to burn brig-hter 
 and add fresh fuel to its already brilliant flame. 
 Thus it was with Mary : her sole attraction to 
 this life — that bound her to this world — was 
 the hope of being* of use to her son — of adding- 
 to his happiness; and when he laid his little 
 curly head ag-ainst her neck^ she felt indeed 
 that there was something* left to live for : to 
 bring* him up religiously — to implant in his 
 tender mind virtuous principles and desires
 
 HARDEN HALL. 295 
 
 was the aim of her life ; and to tell the truth, 
 she had a good soil to plant^ for her child was 
 hlest with a mild and teachable spirit. Day 
 after day she felt her strength gradually de- 
 clining- : she felt that soon — how soon, God 
 only knew — she must leave this darling* child 
 alone to fio-ht ao-ainst difficulties of no common 
 sort, — disowned as he was by his father. She 
 gently sought to make him comprehend the 
 possibility of losing her ; and though at first 
 the poor child scarcely understood the extent 
 of the calamity, it flashed throuo-h his mind in 
 another instant, and he sobbed as if his heart 
 would break. Still, when he gazed on his 
 mother's pale face, and heard her gentle voice, 
 child as he was, he felt as if she could not die ! 
 He flung his arms round her neck ; he hung 
 about her, sayings, ^^ Oh, why does mama talk so, 
 — why does she o-rieve her little boy !" Alas ! 
 poor child ! at that moment he little knew how 
 he grieved her ! She gently extricated herself 
 from his little hands, and pointing to a glass 
 of flowers standing on the table, she told him 
 to fetch the white rose. He smiled, and 
 wiping away ^^ the tears forgot as soon as 
 shed," o-ladly brouo'ht the fair flower. She 
 took him on her knee again : she explained to 
 him, that as he had seen that fair flower three
 
 296 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 days before^ bright and unfacled^ — so was it 
 with her some years ag^o. '^ Now^ my dar- 
 ling'/' she continued^ " you see its once snowy 
 white leaves are ting-ed with yellow \ it droops 
 its head^ and very likely by this time to- 
 morrow^ will be quite withered. This is but a 
 13^36 of wbat we all are. You see me now — 
 it may be in a day or two^ — it may not be for 
 years^ that you will see me also droop and 
 wither : 3^ou will see me g-radually lose all 
 streng-th^ all love of earthly thing's excepting* 
 thee^ my darling- child/' and she kissed the 
 streaming' tears from his pale cheeks. ^^ But/' 
 she continued^ " listen to me^ my child. I do 
 not feel well 5 I feel weaker than I did a Aveek 
 ag-o : these are bad sig-ns^ and will my pet 
 break his mother's heart with his tears ? — will 
 he not endeavour to check them^ and nurse his 
 mother?" 
 
 ^^ I will; indeed/' cried the miserable child ; 
 '^ but oh; mother^ who will talk to me like this 
 when you are g-one ? — who will love me as you 
 have done? Shall I be alone ?" and a shudder 
 passed throug-h his youthful frame. 
 
 '^ No; my darling'; you will not be alone : 
 however much 3'ou ma}^ have to strug-g-le 
 ag'ainst in this world; remember that you are 
 not alone. God will be with you ; and young
 
 HARDEN HALL. 297 
 
 as you are^ he will lend a willing' ear to all 
 your prayers — to all you say to liim. Pray to 
 him^ my sweetest boy ; pray to him earnestly ; 
 pray to him now with me." And she knelt 
 down^ spreading- his hands within her own^ and 
 prayed with the fervency of a mother^ that this 
 her only child might he saved from all g'uilt 
 and misery — mig'ht be preserved from all the 
 dano-ers and miseries wdiich now seemed to 
 surround him ; that they might both be united 
 in that heaven where is joy for evermore; 
 ^^ where the wicked cease from troubling-^ and 
 the wear}^ are at rest.'^ 
 
 Mrs. Read felt refreshed by this pious act : 
 she had committed all to Him who can alone 
 give us peace^ and she now exerted herself to 
 amuse her poor child ; for these were but sad 
 scenes for his early days^ — days which ought to 
 have been bright and unclouded. But a deep 
 impression had been made on his young mind. 
 He seemed ten years older by his thoug'ht- 
 fulness and manner. He could hardly be 
 persuaded to leave his mother^ and he watched 
 her every movement^ and anticipated her every 
 wish^ with wonderful foresight for one so 
 3'oung. 
 
 Her uncle usually paid her sick-room a visit 
 at five o'clock in the afternoon : but one day,
 
 298 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 when confined to her bed^ and suffering" more 
 than usual^ — five^ six^ seven o'clock came^ 
 without his making his appearance : she 
 was g-etting- impatient^ — she was in such 
 a weak state that any chang-e in her daily 
 routine made her feel anxious and ner- 
 vous. At this moment^ when she had sent her 
 maid to inquire what had happened^ strang-e 
 voices were heard in the passag-e : the invalid 
 started up in bed^ and listened attentively : she 
 was satisfied that something- had happened, 
 and she called her child to the bedside, 
 and bade him stay close to her. The 
 poor boy had lost all colour, and apparently 
 all streng-th : he was startled by this noise, 
 for he saw how much it affected his mother y 
 she became deadly pale, and after he reached 
 her, she fell back on the pillow in a 
 fainting- state. The child, much terrified, 
 knew not what to do : he bathed her pale 
 hands with his tears, and covered her face 
 with kisses ; then suddenly recollecting* what 
 he had seen the nurse do on similar occasions, 
 he fetched some cold water and bathed his 
 mother's face. It was an affecting- sig-ht to 
 see one so young- performing- the office of 
 nurse to his mother: to see one who was
 
 HARDEN HALL. 299 
 
 hardly beyond a nurse's care himself, left 
 alone to tend another. The absence of the 
 maid seemed to him endless. AVhen she 
 did return^ her face told such a tale of 
 horror — her blanched cheek and quivering* 
 lips showed so much agitation — that the 
 child^ more than ever terrified^ hid his face 
 in the counterpane^ and wept bitterly. The 
 water had had the desired effect of reviv- 
 ing- a little consciousness in the poor invalid^ 
 and the first sounds that met her ear were 
 the sobs of her sweet child j she started up 
 and tried to speak^ but her tongue clove to 
 the roof of her mouth. Afterwards she said 
 that she had a presentiment that the first 
 thing she heard would be bad news ; at last, 
 with a desperate effort she raised herself in 
 bed^ but when she saw her maid's face^ her 
 worst suspicions seemed verified^ and she faintly 
 said, ^^ Howell, tell me all.'' The poor woman 
 shook in every limb, but reaching* a cordial, 
 she gave some to her patient, who, hastily 
 swallowing* it, said, faintly, ^^ Perhaps it is 
 too much for the child to bear : is it ?" But 
 he petitioned so earnestly to be allowed to 
 remain, that his mother gave him leave to do 
 so y the maid then began her recital.
 
 800 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIIL 
 
 ^^ You know^ ma'am^ Mr. Brown has been in 
 the habit^ hatel}'^ of riding* a g-ood deal^ much 
 more than " 
 
 '^ Oh ! do not torture me^ Howell 3 tell me 
 at once what has happened.^^ 
 
 ^^Well^ then^ nia'am^ the long* and short 
 of the matter is^ that he has been brought 
 home in a dying* state 3 he has been thrown 
 from his horse and " 
 
 ^^ Oh ! stop for mercy's sake/' cried the 
 wretched mother 3 ^^ oh^ come here^ Howell 5 
 tell me_5 is there no hope — no hope whatever ?" 
 
 The poor woman only replied with a mourn- 
 ful shake of the head. 
 
 '^ Is he sensible ?" cried Mar}^ 
 
 ^^Yes^ he is; at times his mind wanders^ 
 but when he thinks of you he is generally 
 sensible^ but so altered;" and the poor woman 
 could no longer control herself, and wept 
 bitterly. 
 
 ^^Oh! God of mercy^ have pity on us!''
 
 HARDEN HALL. 301 
 
 cried the mother : and she g-azed wistfully at 
 her soii^ who struck her as heiug- so com- 
 pletely chang-ed and altered within the last 
 week^ that she felt pretty sure he would not long- 
 survive her. " There was agony * there was 
 hope in that look;" and stretching outlier hand 
 to her boy^ she burst into tears. Several 
 minutes elapsed before she was able to speak : 
 in her reduced^ weak state^ the shock she had 
 received seemed to have nearly annihilated her. 
 The tears now fell from her eyes ; but pale as 
 death she lay on that low bed, breathing a 
 prayer for her only child — her child^ her hope^ 
 her all in this life — and fervently did she 
 pray that she might be resig*ned when she was 
 required to leave him. '^ For oh ! '' she men- 
 tally exclaimed^ ^^ thou art a God of mercy : 
 thou wilt soon reunite us in those mansions of 
 bliss^ where sorrows and tears are not known." 
 While thus she prayed^ her child lay by 
 her side with intense anxiety depicted in his 
 wan face : to him she seemed already dying'. 
 The nurse had left the room to attend her 
 uncle^ and this little child was the onlv 
 attendant that poor Mary then had ! Alas ! 
 she required no more ; and when she opened 
 her eyes and beheld him leaning over her^ she 
 laid her hand on his head and blest him
 
 302 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 repeatecll}^ Overjoyed at hearing" that voice 
 which he thoug'ht never ag-ain to have heard^ 
 he brig-htly smiled and asked if she was better ; 
 at the same time arrang'ing' her pillow and 
 giving- her cool^ refreshing- lemonade to moisten 
 her parched lips. '' My Arthur/' she beg-an^ 
 ^^ I must see my uncle before he dies — before 
 we both die !'' Violently as he trembled^ he 
 made a strong- effort to overcome his emotions^ 
 and said in a clear thoug-h sad voice^ '^ Mama^ 
 Howell will soon return^ and then we Avill ask." 
 He could not alone undertake to move his 
 mother. His attention and nursing' must of 
 course be limited to mere trifles. And yet what 
 is it that so often converts a sick-room into 
 more of an earthly paradise than any other 
 scene in life — what? but that self is there 
 forgotten^ and a thousand nameless attentions^ 
 too minute to be described^ are hourly re- 
 quired." After the lapse of a few mo- 
 ments the maid returned^ shaking in every 
 limb. Mary's wish was made known by her 
 son^ but as he repeated it^ Howell's eyes 
 appeared frozen with horror and consternation. 
 ^^ Alas^ madam !" she cried^ ^^ indeed you are 
 not able to be moved ) you must not attempt 
 it. Mr. Brown does not wish it himself: he 
 is much worse ] he would not know you."
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 303 
 
 ^' Gracious God ! — is it possible ?" exclaimed 
 
 Mary^ starting- up in bed; ^^is it '^ her 
 
 streng-tli failed her^ and prevented her from 
 saying- more. But the fever of restlessness 
 was upon her ; and ag'ain rousing- herself, 
 
 ^^ Tell me/' she beg-an, ^^ tell me " a violent 
 
 fit of coughing-, succeeded with spitting- of 
 blood, produced such complete exhaustion that 
 Howell thought all was over. 
 
 For more than an hour Mar}' neither spoke 
 nor moved. The doctor was expected, but did not 
 arrive j and not being- able to leave her patient 
 herself, as a last resource, Howell thought of 
 sending- the child for the physician : but he 
 was quite ignorant of the w^a}-, and w^ould 
 infallibly lose himself. There was nought to 
 be done but sit down quietly and wait for the 
 visit of the medical man. 
 
 This was the first time that poor Arthur had 
 sat up all night. While the maid made the 
 necessary preparations for keeping in the fire, 
 and prepared cordials in case his mother was 
 able to take them, he had to perform the 
 task of nurse, and support his mother's head 
 with his feeble hands. There is something 
 indescribably solemn and saddening in sitting 
 up at night watching by the couch of one 
 much beloved, who is perfectly unconscious
 
 304 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 of your presence : the flickering*^ uncertain 
 lighty the deep silence around you^ the moan- 
 ing* of the wind^ the death-like appearance of 
 a form connected with all your visions of what 
 is bright and fairest — with all your early^ 
 sunny^ cheerful days^ and the blue^ livid hue 
 that encircles the eyes^ are enoug-h to appal 
 and make the most thoug-htless reflect. As the 
 poor child seated himself by the bedside^ he 
 felt for his mother's hand : cold, and appa- 
 rently lifeless as it was^ it seemed to him to 
 remove that feeling- of desolation and wretched- 
 ness that had nearly overpowered him; and 
 remembering" his mother's advice^ he dropped 
 down on his knees^ and devoutly^ with in- 
 fantine earnestness_, implored blessing's on her 
 head^ and support and comfort for himself. 
 
 How long- the child had remained in prayer 
 is uncertain; the g'rey light of dawn had 
 begun to appear^ making the room even more 
 sombre and dim^ and brought with it that 
 chilliness which is always perceived after a 
 night's watching: this chilliness produced a 
 most violent fit of coughing^ which rang 
 through the whole apartment. At that in- 
 stant the boy was startled by Howell's look of 
 extreme sorrow ; he felt it foreboded that the last 
 moments of his mother's life was approaching.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 305 
 
 She came near to him and urg'ed him with 
 kindness to leave the room : she said it was 
 too awful a scene for one so young- to witness. 
 She entreated him to retire into the next apart- 
 ment: but her words Avere vain; Avith con- 
 vulsive sobs he hung* over his mother. He 
 likewise now ^Derceived the awful palor of 
 death ; he^ for the hrst time^ heard the painful 
 breathing- of one about to be released from 
 all earthly care. 
 
 ^^He watched lier breathing- throiig'h the night, 
 Her breathing; soft and low ; 
 As in her breast the wave of life 
 Kept heaving- to and fro." 
 
 Once more did his beloved mother open her 
 eyes; once more she g"azed on him; a low- 
 moan was heard. 
 
 " So silently she seemed to speak, 
 So slowly moved about, — 
 As we had lent her half our powers 
 To eke her living* out." 
 
 That pure and chastened spirit had returned 
 to the hands of its Creator. Her unfortunate 
 boy fell fainting on her dead body. With 
 much exertion^ Howell raised hini; and carried 
 him from the room. 
 
 VOL. I. x
 
 S06 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Me. Brown did not survive his dreadful 
 accident many hours. Naturally of a strong- 
 nnbrolcen constitution^ the medical men thoug'ht 
 him likely to do well : but they proved mis- 
 taken^ and he was now no more. He never 
 recovered his senses^ and left no directions 
 about his affairs. No will could be found. 
 Every room and cupboard^ every chest and 
 drawer^ were ransacked to see if any memo- 
 randum could be discovered ; but to no purpose. 
 The heir-at-law was a distant cousin of Mr. 
 Brown's^ a young' man now in America. It 
 was always supposed that his niece would 
 have inherited everything*. The ph3^sician 
 and law3^er proceeded to Mrs. Eead's room, 
 and found on the steps the poor child crying, 
 and pale with exhaustion and terror; when 
 he saw these two men he clung" to their knees, 
 and begg-ed they would let him go into his
 
 HARDEN KALL. 307 
 
 mother's room. Surprised at this request^ they 
 inquired if he was not always with his 
 mother. 
 
 ^^Yes^ I was^ till yesterday — I mean last 
 nig*ht_5 when that woman came and carried me 
 out here^ and has never let me g'o in since.'' 
 
 These words w^re scarcely audible^ from 
 the poor child's sobs and tears : but from what 
 they could make out^ these two gentlemen 
 were very much surprised ', and the physician^ 
 Dr. Allen^ who had often seen him before, 
 took him in his arms and knocked at the 
 door. Xo answer was returned. ^^ Where is 
 Howell?'' 
 
 '^ Oh, I do not know/' said Arthur, trem- 
 bling* violently ; " I left her with mama, be- 
 cause she said I must g'o away/' and here his 
 sobbing- and crying- was such as really to alarm 
 the kind-hearted Dr. Allen. He attempted to 
 pacify him, thoug'h to his own mind all these 
 circumstances appeared strang'e, and as if 
 some underhand Avork had been carried on. 
 
 He looked at Mr. , the lawyer, who also 
 
 intimated his fears of something- wrong*. They 
 aofain knocked at the door, and ao-ain all was 
 silent, till becoming- seriously alarmed they 
 attempted to force the door; it was locked 
 
 IT O
 
 308 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 and the key g'one. Immediately sending* for 
 instruments to break it open^ they were 
 oblig-ed to wait a few minutes ; minutes which 
 to them appeared hours. But at last the men 
 appeared^ and the lock was forced open. 
 All was death-like silence^ not a sound was 
 heard; the bed-curtains were all drawn close 
 round the bed. With hasty step Dr. Allen 
 conveyed his little charge to the bed-side and 
 placed him on the ground^ while he himself 
 hastened to open the curtains. Ag'hast and 
 horrified he stood. There was Mary Eead — • 
 the girl he remembered so full of life and 
 animation^ — there she lay^ pale^ cold^ and 
 motionless. She seemed to have had acute 
 pain in her forehead^ for her hand was tightly 
 pressed against it^ and even in death there was 
 the expression of intense suffering. The bed- 
 clothes had been rudely torn from her; one 
 only sheet covered the corpse, and that was 
 but lightly thrown over : her lovely hair was 
 gone. Altogether, the sight that met Dr. 
 Allen's eyes was too dreadful — too horrible ; 
 and, after one hasty glance^ he turned away : 
 sickened at the heartlessness of her who must 
 have left her in this state. Arthur became 
 impatient to look upon his mother : to hear
 
 HARDEN HALL. 309 
 
 her speak ; but Dr. Allen felt that it was too 
 fearful a sig'ht for one so young*. He had 
 children of his own^ and therefore could feel 
 for this interesting- child^ thus early deprived 
 of his only protection and support. He hesi- 
 tated what to do; the child's impatience to 
 see his mother increased every moment : but 
 Dr. Allen led him towards the door. With 
 violent screams the child resisted ; when the 
 doctor^ g-ently holding* him^ said^ " Arthur^ if 
 your mother was able to bid you leave her for 
 one hour^ would you not do it ? " 
 
 He dried his tears^ and in a quiet and 
 subdued tone said^ '^ Yes^ if she forbids my 
 staying* with her I must obey : but she never 
 would do so." 
 
 ^^ Stilly my dear^ she mig:ht ] and I promise 
 you, 3'ou shall return and see her in one hour : 
 will you do as I wishT' 
 
 ^^ I will/' said Arthur ; and relapsing* into 
 that melancholy aspect which he had of late 
 acquired^ he allowed himself to be taken 
 into the next room. When there Dr. Allen 
 told him he must leave him for a short time^ 
 but he would return and take him to his 
 mother. The doctor's kind heart smote him as 
 he said these words^ for he feared that the poor
 
 310 HAEDEN HALL. 
 
 little boy had no idea of the real state of the 
 case. After leaving- him^ he first of all re- 
 turned to Mrs. Read's room^ where he had left 
 
 Mr. ; and they proceeded to cover the body 
 
 decently with the bed-clothes. After they 
 had talked the matter over^ both these gentle- 
 men felt convinced that the nurse had been 
 most shamefully to blame in leaving- the house 
 at such a moment ; nor could they account 
 satisfactority to themselves for such a strang-e 
 occurrence. 
 
 After the lapse of an hour^ Dr. Allen went 
 back to Arthur^ whom he found most anxious 
 for his arrival^ and full of hopes that he should 
 find his dear mother better. The doctor sat 
 down on a chair near the child^ and placing- 
 his hand on his knee^ said^ '^ Arthur^ did your 
 mother never tell you anything- about death^ 
 when she was so ill ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; she used to say, that she should 
 die some day^ and that I should die likewise 3 
 and^ if I was g-ood^ I should g'o to heaven.'^ 
 
 ^^ AVell^ my dear ; and did she never tell you 
 it was uncertain when she should die^ and that 
 she should not remain with you here^ if God 
 wished her away." 
 
 " Yes^ she did : but why do you ask me all
 
 HARDEN HALL. 311 
 
 these questions ? Mama is not dead : I long- 
 to see her^ to kiss her soft clieek^ and cool 
 her burnino* hand.'' 
 
 Poor child ! he little knew how many hours 
 had elapsed since that hand was cold. Dr. 
 Allen was sorely puzzled to know what to 
 do or to sav to this interestino- child. It is 
 always a painful and difficult matter^ to make 
 children comprehend the meaning- of death. 
 
 "Do you think^ if your mother was so al- 
 tered, so ill, that she did not know you, that 
 you would like to see her ? If she was quite 
 cold '' 
 
 "Quite cold!" screamed the child ^ the truth 
 suddenly bursting* upon him : " Cold, — cold, — 
 dead!''"^ 
 
 He g-asped for breath ; his little eyes seemed 
 starting' out of his head, and looked transfixed 
 with horror. 
 
 " Yes," repeated Dr. Allen, who saw it was 
 necessary for the child's life and reason, to 
 make him shed a few tears : ^' yes, she is 
 cold ; she will not know you. You may 
 speak to her; but she will not hear you. 
 She cannot speak Avords of comfort to you, 
 now." 
 
 Here he was interrupted with a torrent of
 
 812 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 tears^ shed with such violent ag-itation^ that 
 Dr. Allen feared the child's slender frame would 
 be shaken to pieces. When he became a little 
 more calm^ — 
 
 ^^ Arthur/' said he^ '^ you have been taug'ht 
 to pray to God. Kneel now down with me^ 
 and we will beg* Him to have mercy on you ; 
 and to comfort and support you^ under this 
 great misfortune.'' 
 
 The child dropped on his knees^ and silently 
 joining' his little hands tog-ether^ he prayed 
 with his whole hearty to be supported. 
 
 Those that laug-h and scoff at relig^ion and 
 prayer^ little know the comfort that is to be 
 derived therefrom^ even in earliest childhood : 
 it is a g'reat mistake to suppose that children, 
 are not capable of praying\ ^^ Suffer little 
 children to come unto me^ and forbid them 
 not/' is a precept too often forgotten : while 
 every other branch of learning is taught^ with 
 the most assiduous pains^ excepting the '' one 
 thing needful." 
 
 Arthur rose refreshed ] and when his kind 
 friend told him he should now see his mother^ 
 if he wished — only that he must try and not be 
 too much overcome — he said he was ready to go, 
 and pressing both his little hands on his fore-
 
 HAEDEN HALL. 313 
 
 head^ as if to repress its visible throbbing-^ he 
 walked on steadily^ till he came to his mother's 
 door. Here he trembled so violently^ that he 
 would have fallen had it not been for Dr. Allen^ 
 who took him in his arms. But he, g'ently 
 opening' the door^ carried in the child. 
 
 All who have ever been into the chamber 
 of death^ must have felt that solemn awe steal 
 over their senses^ which seems to shut them 
 out from the world_, and all its thoug-hts and 
 pleasures. The window shutters being* nearly 
 closed^ the very walls appeared hung- with 
 black • and the whiteness of the bed curtains 
 contrasted strang-ely with this deep and solemn 
 twilight. This is^ and must be^ felt by all in 
 every rank of life. Arthur clung' tig-htly to Dr. 
 Allen ; who^ when he approached the bed^ 
 said^ — 
 
 ^^ Arthur^ my child^ do you still wish to see 
 your mother V^ 
 
 ^^do.^' 
 
 ^^ My dear child^ the last time you saw her^ 
 she was suffering- much pain. Now she is 
 quite free from all suffering* : she is perfectly 
 happy ; she is with God in heaven." 
 
 He then opened the curtains^ and showed 
 the corpse to the child. He did not start :
 
 314 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 his eyes were fixed on it ; he appeared to he 
 ahsorbed in looking* on that beloved face. Dr. 
 Allen had arranged the bed-clothes^ so that 
 only the face was visible ; and it did not look 
 in the subdued lig'ht^ much paler than before. 
 
 ^^I must kiss her/' said he^ and stretched 
 out his little hands. A cold shudder thrilled 
 through Dr. Allen^ for well he knew what the 
 first kiss of death was to one so young*. Yet 
 he did not resist the wish^ but held his little 
 face to his mother's^ merely whispering*^ ^^ It 
 is quite cold." Arthur started back from its 
 cold touch y and then bursting* into tears^ de- 
 clared he would die too^ and never leave his 
 mother. For a few minutes Dr. Allen suf- 
 fered him to weep unrestrained ; then g'ently 
 lifting- the almost insensible child from the 
 bed^ he carried him up stairs and left him in 
 charg'e of his eldest daug-hter^ an amiable g-irl^ 
 who had just arrived.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 315 
 
 CHAPTEH XXIX. 
 
 Dr. Allen's first impression^ that the woman 
 who had charg-e of Mrs. Eead had turned out 
 a rog'ue^ was g-reatly streng-thened when^ on 
 returning- to the chamber of death^ he found^ 
 on examination^ that the lock of every drawer 
 was broken, that all papers were g'one^ if there 
 had been any^ and that nothing- now remained 
 to the poor boy. The lawyer objected to what 
 Dr. Allen proposed^ that all should remain as 
 it was^ till the return of the heir-at-law from 
 America. He thouo-ht it better not to lose 
 any chance of selling* the house \ and^ accord- 
 ingly^ three da3's after Mr. Brown's death^ it 
 was advertised for sale^ with all the furniture 
 belonging' to it. Then came the question 
 what was to become of the little boy. Adver- 
 tisements were placarded all over the town^ 
 offering* rewards to any one who would g*ive 
 any information of Ann Howell ) for^ till she
 
 316 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 was found, nothino- could be known of the 
 wishes of Mrs. Eead^ lately deceased. 
 
 But Dr. Allen's pity and compassion was 
 not confined to mere words. After having- 
 seen his mother cold and dead^ the poor child 
 sat perfectly still \ for hours he did not 
 attempt to speak: sad and silent^ he looked 
 the picture of unutterable woe. His hands 
 felt cold and clammy^ his breath came quickly ; 
 and after remaining* some time in this state^ 
 he gave a sudden start^ and fell back appa- 
 rently in a swoon. For two whole days he 
 remained in this perfectly unconscious state. 
 Miss Allen attended him with the most assi- 
 duous care_, never leaving' him for a moment \ 
 and on the third da}^^ to her great relief^ he 
 turned round and sig'hed. This was the first 
 sign of consciousness he had yet shown^ and 
 was hailed by his kind nurse with great joy^ 
 as a proof that at last the fever was giving 
 way to the remedies used by her father. Poor 
 child! well had it been for him if he had 
 never been roused from this slumber^ but that 
 it had proved to him the slumber of death. On 
 the sixth day he was so much better that Dr. 
 Allen intended to remove him to his own 
 house.
 
 HARDEN HALL. 317 
 
 On being- apprised of this, Arthur appeared 
 very much overcome^ and said, in a faint 
 voice, '^ Oh ! let me see mama's room once 
 more!'^ Deeming- it better to comply with 
 his smallest request than to thT\'art liim in 
 any degree, Miss Allen took him to the room. 
 The bed still remained : the fair form it had 
 so lono' borne was o'one ; — o-one to that cold, 
 dark g-rave where, sooner or later, we must all 
 g-o. And can it be denied that^ generally^ 
 those are taken who can least be spared? — 
 They are mercifully taken, as Ave are told^ 
 from the evils to come. Poor Arthur could 
 not walk from his bed to his mother's chamber^ 
 his kind nurse carried him : she raised him 
 g-ently in her arms. Had he been her own 
 son, she could not have devoted herself more 
 to him. She wrapped his skeleton limbs in 
 flannel ^ she soothed him, . and spoke cheer- 
 fully, and g*ave him some flowers. She almost 
 dreaded herself g'oing- into this room, where 
 so much that sickens and saddens the heart 
 had happened. Yet as it was her father's 
 wish that she should do so, with g-reat com- 
 posure she obeyed. The little bo}' trembled 
 violently Avhen he approached the door, and 
 gave a shuddering- scream when he saw the
 
 3^18 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 "bed on wliich^ one week before^ he had seen 
 his mother laid. His feeling's were beyond 
 those of a mere child. No one is more 
 thoroug'hly convinced than the author how 
 mistaken is the idea that children do not 
 feel as acutely as those of maturer years : that 
 they do so can be proved by every day's ex- 
 perience } the only difference being-^ that in 
 early youth we do not dwell on sorrow with 
 that intensity — I may almost say that melan- 
 choly pleasure — which we are but too apt to do 
 in later life. And how much wiser — how infi- 
 nitely more blest; — to be a,ble to turn from one's 
 sorrow to a brig^ht flower^ or kind friend^ as 
 childhood does , smiling* and feeling as bright 
 and as happy as if no such thing's as tears 
 were known. 
 
 ^^ It is full sad; and sweet to g-aze on the 
 mortal remains of one whom in life we were 
 wont to admire and to love. It is full sad to 
 think how that countenance which was of late 
 so rich in beaut}^ and lively emotions^ and how 
 those eyes which g-listened so lustrously^ and 
 the tongue which could discourse with highest 
 wisdom^ or with holiest eloquence^ have all 
 become the prey of death; and are for ever 
 dark; motionless; and mute. Yet I weeU;
 
 HARDEN HALL. 319 
 
 amidst all the kindly lamentations which 
 sorrows waken in such a moment^ it is also 
 full soothing* to mark the quiet rest which the 
 happy parted soul seems already to partake of 
 — even in the brief space^ ere w^e note that 
 the loathing* work of decay is advancing*^ or 
 the worm beofins to revel on the charms of his 
 fallen victim." 
 
 The followino;- lines of one of the most 
 talented of our modern writers_, occurred to 
 Miss Allen's well stored mind as she held the 
 3'oung' child to kiss his mother's cold lips : — 
 
 ^^ There is something- strang'ely solemn in 
 entering- the chamber of one lately dead. It 
 seems more empty^ more vacant and cold, than 
 when its master^ thoug'h absent^ is living*. 
 It appeals to our feeling's and connects itself 
 by the thin gossamer thread of selfishness 
 which the human heart draws between our 
 fate and every external event that -befalls our 
 fellow-men — with an after period when our 
 chamber shall be left cold and lonely^ and our 
 places be no long-er found among- the living-." 
 
 After the child had kissed the lifeless form 
 of her who had g-iven him life^ Dr. Allen 
 quickly withdrew. The master-spirit of 
 Lord Byron has summed up in few and
 
 320 HARDEN HALL. 
 
 solemn words^ the feeling's that on these 
 occasions fill the breast. Gentle reader^ forgive 
 my repeating* them. 
 
 ^^ He wlio liath bent him o'er tlie dead 
 Ere the first day of death is fled — 
 Before decay's eifacing- fing-ers 
 Have swept the lines where beauty lingers ; 
 And mark'd the mild, angelic air_, 
 The rapture of repose that 's there, 
 The fixed, yet tender tints that streak, 
 The lang'uor of the pallid cheek ; 
 And — but for that sad shrouded eye, 
 That fires not, wins not, weeps not now : 
 And but for that chill, changeless brow. 
 Where cold abstraction's apathy 
 Appals the g-azing- mourner's heart : 
 Yes, but for these, and these alone. 
 Some moments — aye, some treacherous hour, 
 He still mig'ht doubt the tyrant's power : 
 So fair, so calm, so softly sealed, 
 The first last look by death reveal'd!" 
 
 END or YOL. I. 
 
 London : Stewart and Mukeat, Old Bailey.
 
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