f x L I B R.AFLY OF THE UNIVER.5ITY or ILLINOIS 823 C(7 CAPRICE: ANECDOTES OF THE LISTOWEL FAMILY. Howlett and Brimmer, Printers, 10, Frith Street, Soho. CAPRICE: OR OP THE LISTOWEL FAMILY. AN IRISH NOVEL, IN THREE VOLUMES, 1^9 an mni¬tin. All made of fantasy, All made of passions, and all made of wishes. Shakspeare. VOL. I. Itontron : SHERWOOD, JONES AND CO. PATERNOSTER ROW, AND JOHN ARCHER, DUBUN. 1824. CAPRICE. CHAPTER I. ^ To aid thy mind's development,— to watch Thy dawn of little joys ;— to sit and see Almost thy very growth, to new thee catch Knowledge of objects,— wonders yet to thee ! To hold thee lightly on a gentle knee. And print on thy soft cheek a parent's kiss- Yet this was in my nature, as it is, I know not what is there, yet something like to this. BVRON. IN a village, some miles from Killarney, stood a glebe house, the residence of Mr. Kelly, curate of the parish. This gen- jtleman married the daughter of a re- '^ spectable farmer, his parishioner; with whom he lived in perfect seclusion, on an income of seventy pounds per annum, ^ VOL. I. B 2 CAPRICE. devoting his time to the duties of his parish; his beloved partner assisting him in instructing the ignorant, and visiting the sick. An excellent garden at the back of the glebe house occupied their leisure hours. It sloped advantageously to the sun, and had at the upper end, a bower, in which in Summer weather the good couple occasionally had tea, and fruit. Here they were enjoying the beauty of a fine evening early in the month of August, when Mrs. Kelly, in great sur- prise, exclaimed, that she heard the soundof carriage wheels: ''Who," cried she, " can it be? This is not the time of year our rector visits the parish !" '* Certainly; — -still a traveller rarely ventures over this bad road," said the curate. ** Listen ! It stops at the door ! It must be Mr. Belmont !" *' Well, my love!" replied his wife, ** he may come. — You are always pre- pared, and can meet his consequential CAPRICE. d airs, and affected zeal for the church and the morals of the parish, without a palpitating heart." '* How can you be so severe ! When I see a good effected, I never quarrel with the motive ; — except from the pul- pit. Look! see, the garden door is opened. Who comes here ?" Jenny ran up the grave] walk, ex- claiming — " Oh, mistress ! Oh, master ! If there bean't be a fine gentleman axing for yese ! But, see ! — sure he's after me, coming in at the garden gate with a lit- tle angel in his arms !" The gentleman had followed the maid, and on seeing Mr. Kelly coming towards him, slackened his pace, and set down a child. His figure was enveloped in a large loose box coat; he had enormous whiskers, which, with his hat very much down on his head, almost concealed his countenance : still his air was dignified, and his step firm. When they met, he looked rather awkward, and appeared 4 CAPRICE. at a loss how to introduce himself; as Mr. Kelly's countenance seemed to de- mand an explanation. ** I do not know, sir, how to present myself to you ; I feel as if you could scarcely pardon my intrusion; particularly when I acquaint you that, although a stranger, I come as a supplicant ; and demand from you the greatest of all possible favours." Here he seemed to hesitate, Mr. Kelly held out his hand. '' Be assured, sir, of meeting here with every kindness we can show. Our door is always open to the stranger : my good woman will be happy to pay you every attention. — Further, I fear, we cannot promise, as our means of doing as we wish are very limited." The good curate now led the way to the summer-house, and recommended the gentleman to his wife, who was struck with the beauty of the child, a lovely little girl, of about four years of age; richly, and most fantastically CAPRICE. O dressed, but appearing in delicate health, and much fatigued. With the shyness natural to her age, she clung to her father. Mrs. Kelly, however, offering her some fine fruit, soon succeeded in attracting her attention. It occurred to Mr. Kelly, that the gentleman must be an actor; he felt shocked when he considered the pro- bability of the lovely child being trained up to an idle life. From the stranger's appearance, he could not sup- pose him in want of money ; yet he felt very anxious before he should urge his request, to make him acquainted with the state of his affairs. There was an awkward pause in the conversation ; the subjects of the beauty of the garden, of the weather, of the child, &c. were exhausted ; and every one appeared thoughtful. On the child's complaining of being sleepy, the stran- ger looked at his watch, and observed, it was long after her bed hour. She grew very peevish, and begged he would 6 CAPRICE. take her home in the carriage to her mamma : he tried in vain to pacify her ; at length she began to cry bitterly, and said, she would — she must go home. — Mrs. Kelly requested permission to pre- pare a bed for her. The stranger apolo- gized for trespassing so much on their hospitality; but, as the child had been lately ill, he feared proceeding further on their journey that evening was im- possible. *' Be under no uneasiness, my dear sir; consider yourself at home here. This village does not afford an inn ; nor is there any house here in which you could be accommodated. Indeed, we do not wish it to be otherwise, our roads are so bad, we look upon a stranger as on a vara avis in terris, and we claim him for our exclusive property. We shall give you Mr. Belmont, our rector's, apartment, which is tolerably comfort- able ; he generally pays us a visit three or four times a year." Mrs. Kelly now returned for the CAPRICE. 7 child, who was fast asleep; she bore her as quietly as possible from her fa- ther's arms, saying, she had made up a little bed for her close to her own. The gentlemen then entered into con- versation. The curate stated his cir- cumstances, and gave a short statistical account of the surrounding country. Mrs. Kelly returned in about an hour, in raptures with the child, declaring she was the sweetest baby she ever beheld. Her countenance beamed with kindness and maternal love as she repeated her infantine sayings. The stranger, evidently highly grati- fied, said — *' I see, madam, my Louisa has, according to my earnest wish, in- terested you in her favour. I presume you are fond of children?" '' Very fond, indeed, sir ; there is no blessing in life I so covet. My good man tells me I often break the tenth commandment: I am sure I did so within this last half hour, when I con- 8 CAPRICE. templated your lovely child as she slept." " My dear madam !" exclaimed the stranger; *' you enchant me ! These are the very feelings I wish you to have ; for, strange to tell, I have set my heart On leaving you my child. I hope and trust, from your great partiality to my Louisa, that you v^ill plead her cause with Mr. Kelly, and finally prevail on him to adopt her." ''Is it possible!" said Mrs. Kelly; '' will you indeed part with her? Oh, my dear Edward! is she not a gift sent from Providence ? — and yet you look hesitatingly." *' Consider our very small income, — and — see, the child seems to have been nursed in the lap of luxury. Look even at her dress : is it not rich and expen- sive ? beyond even what I have beheld on noblemen's children. I protest, a year's income would not purchase such another." CAPRICE. 9 '' Alas ! my dear sir ! we are all crea- tures of habit ; she is too young yet to have formed any. These fine things were necessary to her mother's happi- ness; she loved to see her decked in them. For me, I think they sow the seeds of vanity in the infant mind ; and the consequences are deplorable of attend- ing, in early education, only to dress, the cultivation of showy talents, and the preservation of beauty. You will think my fears on this subject are very strong, when I acknowledge to you that — but I fear you will be so amazed — yet I must deal candidly with you, and en- trust to you, that my anxiety to have this darling a rational being, forces me actually to steal her from her mother ! I mean, when I return home, to fabricate a tale of her death. I am grieved to the heart thus to wound my wife's feelings ; but what can I do ? Remon- strance is vain; nor is she, I am mor- tified to own, capable of bringing her up in the simple manner I wish. I see 10 CAPRICE. I have astonished you, and that you even doubt the soundness of my mind ?" " Forgive me!" rejoined the good cu- rate, ** I am indeed, sir, amazed! It is a most extraordinary — a most unheard of proceeding — to kidnap your own child ! Consider, she may hereafter, by this measure, lose her place in society ; and you may, from her tender age, have trouble to prove her identity." *' I have considered every thing," said the stranger, ** and provided against every contingent. Will you comply with my request ? I will give you fifty pounds in hand : the same sum yearly, or more if you require it." " You astonish me !" replied Mr. Kelly. *' Can it be possible that you have wealth to pay so liberally for your daughter, and yet bring her to the moun- tains of Kerry, for education ? My dame is a most excellent housewife, certainly; and can make cream cheese and family wine admirably." ** That is just," said the stranger. CAPRICE. 11 *'what I wish my daughter to be; a good housewife, brought up in a decent plain w^ay, not like a queen -bee, flying about with a whole hive at her heels, and making a fuss about her delicacy, her sensibility, and refinement." Mr. Kelly had no further objection to make. His wife was in raptures, and could scarcely believe in her happiness. Every thing was arranged, highly to the satisfaction of all parties. The stranger refused to tell his name, and requested they would give theirs to his daughter. On entering the house, when candles were introduced, he avoided their glare, under pretence of sore eyes ; they ob- served, in speaking, his voice was feigned, and they sometimes thought the stiffly curled brown wig he wore, and which entirely concealed his forehead, was put on merely for the purpose of disguise. He remained there that night, and left them the next morning, before the child awoke ; having paid fifty pounds to Mr. 12 CAPRICE. Kelly ; who received it, thinking it not improbable he might never see or hear from him again ; and that it might yet serve for a portion for the little girl, whom he was determined henceforth to consider as his own child. CHAPTER II. Why did the Gods give thee a heavenly form. And earthly thoughts to make thee proud of it ? Why do I ask ? "lis now the known disease. That beauty hath to bear too deep a sense Of her own self-conceived excellence. Ben Jonson. The stranger whom we must now pre- sent to our readers as Captain Listowel, hastened his return to Dublin, feeling at a loss how he should, without discover- ing the truth, calm his wife, Lady Eliza- beth Listowel's anxiety, concerning her eldest daughter. Her ladyship, the only daughter of the late Earl of Ardsallagh, was con- sidered, on being presented to the fa- shionable world, a star of the first mag- nitude : her extreme beauty and showy 14 CAPRICE. accomplishments dazzled even nice dis- cerners of character ; and some time had elapsed after their union, before Listowel discovered that her attainments were merely superficial, and that her mind w^as left uncultivated, a prey to faults naturally springing from such neglect. The first year of their marriage glided on tolerably; but his disappointment be- came bitter, as he saw her unceasingly pursue the same dull round, interested in nothing, but as it served to gratify her vanity. She became capricious, and courted singularity : her two eldest children, Edward and Louisa, were dressed to represent Cupid and Psyche. Listowel's remonstrances had no weight; to his lamentation that his children had more the air of a strolling pla^T^er's than a gentleman's, she requested he would not, by his cynical observations, damp her innocent amusement. The grievance did not end here ; these poor children spent the mornings shop- CAPRICE. 15 ping, or visiting with mamma ; the even- ings at the theatre, or some place of gay resort ; and at night, not unfrequently this vain mother required their exhibi- tion at her parties, where the fretfulness caused by broken rest could only be appeased by sweetmeats, and an entire submission to their will. The children evidently were falling sacrifices to these whims ; their languid appearance first roused Listowel's an- xiety for their weakness, which he now with alarm saw was rapidly increasing, almost to debility; he dreaded that if any illness, incident to childhood, attacked them in their present weak state, they would be lost. Their mother, at his request, consulted Doctor Berry ; and he prescribed country air, plain diet, and regular hours: accordingly, they were sent to Holly Mount, his seat in the county of Wicklow. But Lady Ehzabeth would never follow any regu- lar plan; of course, the children derived 16 CAPRICE. no benefit from the doctor's prescrip- tion. In vain their mother boasted of her anxiety, and looked interesting and unhappy : they still continued to de- cline. Listowel was miserable ; he be- came sullen and gloomy ; and avoiding all his friends, gave himself up to dread- ful anticipations ; not doubting the time was fast approaching when he should be childless, and lose those dear pre- cious beings who entirely engrossed his affections, and in whom all his hopes of earthly happiness were centred. He reflected they would have more cause to reproach him than their mother; she acted giddily and from want of reflec- tion ; and yet he was guided by her : was it not as strange as that a person having eye-sight should submit to be led by one blind ? It occurred to him, that if they were brought to the country, far away from her, they might yet be saved. No time was to be lost ; he flattered himself, by being now prompt in his CAPRICE. 17 measures, and firm in his decision, he might make amends for his former pas- siveness. He therefore hastily arranged his plans, consulting Doctor Berry on the best method of bringing them to bear. The doctor had long been the friend and physician of the family ; Lis- towel had the greatest reliance on his medical abilities; and knew him to pos- sess strength of mind and soundness of judgment. Much explanation was not necessary to make the doctor enter into all his feelings ; but his views he could not be so readily reconciled to. He saw the necessity of an immediate change; and recommended him to remonstrate with Lady Elizabeth, and mentioning his (the doctor's) opi- nion, that the consequences would be fatal, if she did not allow of their sub- mitting to regularity of diet and hours. *' I have already made use of your name," returned Listowel. '* What was the consequence ? A change was cer- 18 CAPRICE. tainly made ; but it was only giving up one whim to adopt others still more ridiculous." " It is ungracious," said Berry, *' to advise a man to act in direct contradic- tion to his wife. ' Necessitas 7ion habet legem.'' You, my dear friend, have no alternative. You must send the chil- dren to Listowel park until they are perfectly reinstated in health ; and then place them at some nursery boarding- school." '' That may answer for my boy," said Listowel ; ** but I will never have my girl trained at a boarding-school, to have her such a puppet as her mother." " There are some excellent schools," replied the doctor, " where you may have your daughters sensibly brought up, and their religious and moral princi- ples strictly attended to." *' I shall not dispute that," said Lis- towel : " but they would lose at home, in vacation, any benefit they could derive CAPRICE. 19 from good instruction at school. What a life of struggle I should lead ! My poor wife ! she fancies she is never so interest- ing as when her children are about her! The other day, when a lady asked her some questions about the resetting the jewels her father gave her; — * There,' she replied, pointing to her children, and affecting the dignity of the Roman matron, ' there are my jewels; from them alone I expect to derive lustre!' I could tell you a hundred such stories — but to what end — for, I must acknow- ledge my resolution is taken. — I do not consult you as to the decision; only as to the execution of my plan. Mr. Kelly, a most respectable clergyman, was appointed to the curacy of Laun ; he is married to a very worthy woman, a complete Mrs. Primrose ; they live at the Glebe, within half a mile of Listowel Park. To his care, and to his wife's, I will intrust my Louisa. My agent Mr. Jackson, and his wife, 20 CAPRICE. a most worthy couple, and devoted to my interest, have promised me to re- side at Listowel Park, in order to have a watchful eye over Miss, and to in- form me occasionally of her improve- ment ; and, that she may be entirely out of the contagion of her mother's folly, I will feign a story of her death. Yes, you may well look amazed, and tell me, perhaps, as my wife sometimes does, that I do not understand how matters are conducted on land. But it signifies not : I am at home long enough to see, that without the assist- ance of an amphibious sort of animal, like myself, the poor children would he lost; you alone, excepting those em- ployed, shall be privy to my secret. I will place in your hands every neces- sary document, in case of my sudden death, to restore my Louisa to her family. — This plan I think will answer. — There is little danger of my Eliza- beth's discovering the deceit, Listowel CAPRICE. 21 Park being the last part of the globe she would visit. — Her will is her law — she would have it mine. — She knows how I have been influenced by my father's wishes — strongly instanced in my withdrawing from the naval profes- sion, where I had served fifteen years, and obtained the rank of post captain: — this you may judge, from knowing my early predilection for the navy, cost me a severe struggle ; — and yet, al- though she knows it was my father's dying request that I should reside at this seat of my ancestors ; and that to induce her to make it her residence I have expended large sums of money in modernizing, in furnishing, in short, in making it a dwelling for a princess — and then its vicinity to the lakes; — every thing considered, she might, to indulge me, at least go there for a few months in the Summer. On my urging it, there were a few scenes acted ; she fell into hysterics, continued the whole 22 CAPRICE. of the day from one fit to another: she said, I did not care for her, and allud- ing to a voyage I made the preceding year with my uncle, said my love could not stand the test of absence and salt water. What could I say ? — not that my love for her was unabated : — I therefore yielded the point, and gave her the proof she desired." Doctor Berry in vain attempted to dissuade him from his purpose, by ex- posing its extreme wildness, and the misfortunes it might in future bring on his daughter. Lis towel remained firm to his purpose, and in a short time had every necessary preparation made. The children were at Holly Mount with their mother, whom he brought to town, un- der pretence of meeting her brother, who was hourly expected from Oxford. The day following, an express arrived to inform her that Miss Louisa had the measles; a disorder Lady Elizabeth par- ticularly dreaded; she was, therefore, CAPRICE. 23 easily prevailed on to remain in Dub- lin with her brother, whilst Listowel and the doctor went to nurse the child. When she saw him departing without her, she begged and intreated to be allowed to go ; but Listowel told her, he would not suffer her sympathizing mind to be so distressed. "No, she should not see them suffer ; she must wait until health's opening roses again bloomed on their cheeks." Listowel remained at Holly Mount, until Louisa gained sufficient strength for travelling. Doctor Berry frequently took advantage of this delay, to remon- strate with Listowel on the hazard he ran, on the great responsibility he took on himself, and how he might here- after be condemned; — that the world would censure or applaud the strange measure he was about to take, ac- cording to its success: there was some danger of its scoffing when her milk- maid manners came to be the topic of 24 CAPRICE. the day ; and how could he, hereafter, ever restore her to her family without reflecting discredit on her mother!' Sometimes Listowel listened patiently to the good doctor ; at other times he would expostulate, and say that as his children inherited grace and beauty from their mother, they should be indebted to him for a sensible and religious edu- cation. Mary, his youngest child, he was resolved, should, when of a pro- per age, follow her sister; and if he had fifty daughters they should all be educated at the curate's. Lady Elizabeth, on hearing Listowel's report of Louisa's danger, was un- affectedly miserable, and in anxiety for her forgot her horror of measles, and requested permission to visit her. Hitherto her delicate sensibility and ex- treme tenderness of heart, having been shown only for effect, or evinced for ob- jects that rendered them ridiculous, were consequently treated by him with CAPRICE. 26 as much contempt as a man of his breed- ing could show. Now the case was different, he felt he had brought on her a severe stroke of affliction : he felt the deceit he was practising dread- fully irksome, and contrary to his open, ingenuous temper. However, he did not repent the step he had taken, al- though he felt as a severe judge himself, when, the next day, she was fainting in his arms, on receiving the account of the death of her little girl. His self- reproaches were bitter, and he endea* voured with the greatest tenderness to mitigate her sufferings. Lady Elizabeth was strongly attached to her brother, the Earl of Ardsallagh, who was her very counterpart ; but his beauty was of a more manly character, his feelings more genuine ; yet his vanity, or his puppyism, was extreme. He returned with warmth his sister's af- fetion, and loved and respected her husband. He now strongly recom- VOL. I. c 26 CAPRICE. mended to them change of scene, re- questing they would fulfil their promise of accompanying him to Tarmontbarry. They accordingly left Dublin towards the end of July. The change of scene, the variety of company, soon banished from Lady Elizabeth's versatile mind all sentiment of care. She likewise per- ceived that real affliction is very unbe- coming, leaving lamentable traces on the countenance, destroying the freshness of youth ; whereas fancied woe gives only an interesting pensive look, that can be laid aside at pleasure. Minds truly susceptible, according to her sentimental creed, are tremblingly alive to happiness as well as misery ; their elasticity of feeling experiencing rapid transitions from rapture to agony. The Listowels remained in the country until the shooting season was over : and then, as Lady Elizabeth expected shortly to be confined, it was necessary for them to return to Dublin. Listowel earnestly CAPRICE prayed he might have a son, for al- though more than ever convinced of his wife's inability to educate a daughter, yet he was determined any he should have in future, must with Mary take their chance ; as he never would volun- tarily go through the same difficulties agaui. His prayers were not heard : she was delivered soon after their return of a daughter. As soon as possible. Lady Elizabeth entered into all the dissipation of Dub- lin. She wished to have Edward sent for from school ; but this Listowel posi- tively refused. Mary she considered too young for a plaything ; therefore her father sent her, with the infant Frances, to Holly Mount. When the amusements of Dublin were over, Listowel proposed they should spend the Summer in the South of France, to re-establish Lady Elizabeth's health, which had suffered much from late 28 CAPRICE. hours and crowded rooms, so soon after her confinement. She joyfully assented. '' We must," said she, *' take all the children ; an English child is so admired in Paris. Mr. Fanshaw's little boy is not near so fine a child as Frances ; yet he was the admiration of all Paris ; crowds came to see him ; they were charmed with his loose dress, so different I hear, from what they are accustomed to see on their own children. They have the poor things swathed up in a most bar- barous fashion." *' Fanny is too young, my love, to feel pleasure from admiration. We had better leave the children at home," said Lis- towel gravely. "■ Not for the world ! I shall be thought so much more of, if we take this lovely child. Pray, my love," said she, smiling, " Who that owned An em'rald, jasper, or rich chrysolite, Would hide its lustre, or not bid it blaze Conspicuous on his brow V* CAPRICE. 29 *' Alas ! madam, I fear you will never consider your children as accountable beings ; we shall — however, I shall say no more ; you know my decision." '' I hate that word decision ! it sounds so peremptory : as much as to say, do not tease me with objections. I would not, even to Edward, use such an ex- pression." *' I believe you are right; if it was more in my actions there would be no occasion to offend your ears by pronoun- cing the word. Yet, as you have a choice, you cannot complain. I shall now go to my study, and write two letters ; — one to a friend in Paris, to en- gage an hotel for us; the other to my steward at Holly Mount, to make preparations for our reception. I will send you both the letters, and you may despatch which of them you please." CHAPTER III. Which to term in gross, Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd. Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn : and happier than this She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed. Merchant of Venice. Louisa soon excited an interest in the hearts of the worthy couple at the Glebe ; they pitied her deserted state, and saw, from the vivacity of her temper, that she required a strict and watchful eye : her affectionate disposition was very attaching; their hearts fondly adopted her; and they were grateful to Provi- dence for thus throwing her on their protection; flattering themselves she would be left with them, at least until of an age to hold her proper rank in so- ciety. Mr. Kelly was determined she CAPRICE. 31* should not then be mortified by finding herself deficient in any intellectual at- tainment. Mr. Belmont, the rector, visited his parish at the usual time ; he was a mid- dle-aged man, rather corpulent, his ap- pearance not dignified. When in com- pany with those, whom, from situation, he considered subservient to him, he assumed a commanding, consequential air. His eyes were small and glancing ; * trifles, light as air,' came within his observation. Louisa's presence surprised him : from her bearing the name, and addressing the Kellys as parents, he supposed her their adopted relative, and secretly smiled at their folly in burdening themselves with a sickly child, whom he supposed they would soon have the expense of burying. On his return at Christmas, he was amazed at Louisa's improvement, and could with diflficulty be persuaded she was the little puny urchin he saw there 32 CAPRICE. ' a few months back ; he judged the air must be uncommonly salubrious, and as his family, generally in the Summer months, sought health at a distance from home, he determined on bringing them to the Glebe the following June ; never considering how almost impossi- ble it was for Mr. Kelly to find accom- modation for solarge a party. The Belmonts came towards the end of July ; the Kellys, with the aid of the Jacksons from Listowel Park, were tolerably prepared for their reception, and had their hospitality rewarded in the satisfaction they afforded their guests. Mrs. Belmont was the only child of a wealthy grocer, in Cork : being of a volatile disposition, fond of low com- pany, and naturally averse to learning, her parents, whose idol she was, could not contradict her, hoping a large for- tune would apologize for the wildness and vulgarity of her manners, and pre- vent their proving an obstacle to her CAPRICE. 33 raising her rank in society by mar- riage. Their hopes were realized by her union with Mr. Belmont ; her fortune serving to clear the incumbrances on his estate. He insisted on her giving up her former acquaintances, and would, had it been possible, have refined her manners. Finding this a vain effort, he became re- conciled to her vulgarity, and even adopt- ed some of her phrases ; however, she had great ideas of her own elevation, and talked at times very consequentially; but finding Mrs. Kelly easily impressed with ideas of her grandeur, she seldom assumed a high manner ; and was, as in her own family circle, notable and good- humoured. Her greatest ambition was to set off her daughters to advantage, and have them well married. They were uncommonly clever, accomplished young women, and had early profited by their mother's unceasing lessons, on each displaying on all occasions, her 34 CAPRICE. own and her sisters' acquirements; foi*, notwithstanding the selfishness which such an education encouraged, they loved each other with sisterly affection. They were delighted with Louisa ; the innocent playfulness of her manners was congenial with their gay dispositions, and they found her so amenable, that even Mr. and Mrs. Belmont were pleased with her, and allowed their daughters to take her on all their parties. The little girl's spirits were exhilarated to their highest pitch ; she enjoyed the pleasures of the moment with childish delight; time seemed to have wings. But now a sudden stop was put to her happiness by the arrival of the two Master Belmonts from school. Seeing her dressed in an inferior style, such as the good curate could afford, a brown stuff frock and check bib, they dis- dained to treat her as their equal ; and thought her very impertinent for re- senting their rough play. CAPRICE. 3'5 But this scene, beautiful and health- ful as it was, soon wearied Mrs. Bel- mont. She had here no manoeuvring ; she considered her daughters wasting their youth particularly provoking, as they were now looking uncommonly well : the regular hours, and constant excitement to exercise heightened their beauty; and gave an expression of ease and cheerfulness to their countenances highly prepossessing. She would some- times lose all patience, and tell them, as she said, a hit of her mind, as it made her more comfortable ; at length she became quite restless, and almost angrily told them she could not bear to see them so stupidly composed, so insensible to their good look-outs. One day she came into the parlour just as Miss Belmont had finished her sketch-book, and was looking over it, her countenance beaming with intelli- gence, whilst she pointed out the differ- ent views to her sister. 36 CAPRICE. '' So, child," saidMrs. Belmont, ''you have drawn all these beautiful land- scapes : I suppose you will at least gain credit for you taste, and for your neatness in execution ?" '' Yes, madam," returned Miss Bel- mont, *' I think, as a frontispiece to my work, I will draw this beautiful child's picture." '' You may; she will yet be a first rate beauty! and make, if I am not mistaken, as much noise in the world as Mary of Keswick. — I think," ob- served this watchful parent, '' I'll have a care when my boys grow up ; they shall not visit these lakes, nor set a foot here until her story is told. I am mighty glad to see the dislike they have taken to her." '* Surely, mamma, you would not ob- serve the likings or dislikings of such children ?" repli ed her youngest daughter. " Not in the general ; but her attrac- tions will, I fancy, be so very uncom- CAPRICE. 37 mon, that if once their young minds were impressed with her image, there she must remain ; and they might seek her again when their passions were more alive. Car. my dear, I hope you do not neglect adding to your botanical collection; you know what a botanist Colonel Seymour is. I hope, my dear Anne, you do not forget your cabinet of minerals and fossils. Have you set those very pretty verses to music? — Why do you look so thoughtful, Jemima ? Upon my credit, child, it makes you look at least ten years older !" " I was thinking, my dear mother, how kind, how good you are in thus considering us all — and our various ways of pleasing. But now I may surely look as I please — old or young ! Since there is no admiring swain, I may at least enjoy perfect liberty." *' It is very extraordinary Seymour and Elmour did not come," said Mrs. Belmont, thoughtfully. — *' You may 38 , CAPRICE. look surprised, but, upon my credit, I heard them settle their plans for com- ing here I I did not tell you I thought meeting them perchance would have such a good effect. This place is in- tolerably dull for you girls : going out boating without gentlemen ; — having no one to talk to of the beautiful pro- spects. I am sometimes quite pro- voked when I see how handsome you all look, that there should be such a blaze of sparkling eyes and blooming cheeks, when there is no one even pre- sent that could report handsome things of you. I wish Belmont would leave this savage place. I declare I will go this moment and tease him. But mind, not a word of my real motive ; — if he suspects I had an idea of meeting Sey- mour and Elmour here, he would soon let the cat out of the bag /" CHAPTER IV. Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dress'd. Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reap'd Show'd like a stubble land at hanest home. He was perfum'd like a milliner j And 'twixt his finger and his thumb, he held A pouncet box, which ever and anon He gave his nose, and took't away again ; Who therewith angry, when it next came there. Took it in snuff. And still he smiled and talked." Mrs. Belmont, at length, gained her point ; her husband, no longer able to resist her intreaties, took his family to Miltown-Malby, on the western coast. They set up at a fashionable hotel re- sorted to by the gay world, the spirit of which was supported by Sir Offing- don Wilmot, a wealthy baronet. This hotel was within half a mile of Sea View, Sir Offingdon's residence ; and was given by him, ready furnished, and 40 CAPRICE. set out at all points, to an old servant, on the most moderate terms. The baro- net saw a great deal of company, and found his advantage in having good stabling contiguous to his dwelling. His society was much sought after, particularly at the hotel, where he contributed largely to the entertain- ment ; supplying them constantly with venison, fruit, and game. He courted the favour of the ladies, by allowing them the command of his carriages ; and giving magnificent entertainments, din- ners, balls, fete-champetres, &c. But al- though he thus sought the favour of those distinguished either by beauty or rank, his attentions never amounted to more than merely an acknowledgment that he considered them as objects wor- thy of displaying his grandeur ; for his character was so well known, that mothers, the most anxious to dispose of their daughters, never sought him; but Mrs. Belmont's motto, was Na tie CAPRICE. 4\ emboura* and she proposed him to Jemima , her eldest daughter, as a rival to Colonel Elmour. Jemima laughed, and could not for some time suppose her mother serious. In vain she represented his coolness to the fair sex, and that never having, even in his younger days, been softened towards them, surely now, when arrived at the grand climacteric, the vainest could not expect to inspire him with la belle passion ; and he never could, she acknowledged, rival, in her estimation, the young gallant Colonel Elmour. '' Ridiculous, child ! Colonel Elmour does not think of you ; and if he did, he is only a soldier of fortune — could make no settlement — give you no estate to take views from. Oh dear ! would it not be a pity your talent should be thrown away ? What beautiful drawings you will send me from Sea View; besides, * Irish. — Never despair. 42 CAPRICE. bathing is so good for you all, girls, we shall pay you a visit every Summer 1" '* Dear mother!" returned her eldest daughter, *' how can you talk in such a way; or hold your daughter so very cheap ? You know — " " Stuff, child ! do not let me be tor- mented with circulating-library senti- ment : — consider dull reality ; you are now six-and-twenty ; handsome I will acknowledge ; but you are idle and ex- travagant. Your poor dear father is cer- tainly not old ; but he has a short neck, and lives full ; great part of his income dies with him ; all then is settled on Watty ; no settlement made on younger children. My father wished to aggran- dize my eldest son ; and trust me, my small jointure would go but a little way towards supporting us all. There, my dear child, is the truth — you are old enough to choose your own path, and to profit by my anxiety for you. So no more airs ! come to my room when you CAPRICE. 43 are dressed, which I desire may not be so plain as usual — the more showy the better. You shall wear my garnets, which are particularly becoming to your fair skin !" She then left the room, leaving Je- mima mortified and humbled. Whilst her mother was setting her off for Co- lonel Elmour, the duplicity was only her mother's ; she giddily joined in all the plans, from feeling a decided preference towards him, and had not delicacy of mind sufficient to feel the mortification of seeking, instead of being sought. She liked him ; felt flattered by his evident admiration ; and thought she would be most fortunate if she gained him, and thus escape the disagreeable men her mother was continually proposing to her as good catches. When the dinner bell rung, Mrs. Bel- mont lectured her daughters to take care and be among the first to enter the eating room. ** I shall, my dears, seat 44 CAPRICE. myself near the door, in order to be ready, and not let Mrs. Any-body or Mrs. Every-body in before us : keep as near as possible : we give way only to rank. These matters, you will tell me, are trifles ; but, my dears, you should not consider them as such ; the sum of life is made up of small matters ; and here, every one is supposed to know their own place. As we are all strangers to each other, expect no compliment: if we take our place in the back ground, there we may be left. You know, Anne, dear, my little poetess — *' Full many a flower is born to blush unseen." '* I do not think, madam, any one can say that of your daughters," said Mr. Belmont ; as he came to see if they were ready to accompany him to the draw- ing-room. Almost all the company were assem- bled. The entrance of three such beau- tiful women caused no small sensation. CAPRICE. 45 The eldest was splendidly dressed ; her raven hair was braided smoothly, and confined at the top of her head by a small circle of blush roses, that set off the transparent fairness of her skin to admiration; her figure was tall and ma- jestic, and rather inclined to en bon point. Mrs. Belmont looked round her with secret satisfaction, on seeing her daugh- ters were by far the handsomest and the best dressed women in the room. Sir Offingdon Wilmot next made his entreCy and having a slight acquaintance with Mr. Belmont, was presented by him to his wife and daughters. Dinner being announced, Mrs. Bel- mont found her precautions useless ; all had their appointed places at the table ; the last comers always sat at the lower end : but the baronet's seat being likewise at the bottom of the table, it required little manoeuvring in Mrs. Belmont to place him between her and Jemima. 46 CAPRICE. Dinner time was not the favourable hour for engaging Sir Offingdon's at- tention ; at least until the cloth was re- moved. In the mean time, poor Mrs. Belmont was nervous and restless, from her anxiety to observe what impression her daughter would make, and was in despair lest the very excellent dinner would entirely occupy him. She contrived at length to draw him into conversation; and having studied his character, talked on those subjects on which she knew his vanity could most easily be flattered : her daughter was scarcely noticed by either, unless, sometimes her memory failed, and then — she applied to Jemima. Sir Offingdon appeared much pleased with Mrs. Belmont ; and had more con- versation with her than with any lady at the hotel ; it was not, therefore, sur- prising, that he should offer her the com- mand of his carriages, horses, &c. The acquaintance thus began, rapidly CAPRICE. 47 increased to intimacy ; there was a blunt simplicity in Mrs. Belmont's manner, and a kind of clumsy artifice, that led persons almost to fancy they had her in the palace of truth (as described by Madame de Genlis,) and heard her de- clare — ' I will be very artful, no one will discover me; I will pretend so and so.' This amused the baronet; he was diverted at her little plans to at- tract his attention towards her daughter : whilst, at the same time he endured them, he could not help thinking, with all her vulgarity and simplicity, that she had a great deal of discernment, though her admiration of himself he thought real, and her deepest strokes of adula- tion, appeared to him to proceed only from her unfeigned approbation ; some- times, therefore, from motives of grati- tude, he was as gallant as she could wish ; feeling himself bound in common civility to make some return for her courtesy ; but through her daughter only 48 CAPRICE. would she receive any, which led Sir Offingdon to be more attentive to her, and to break through his general rule of not being particular to unmarried ladies. This change in his conduct caused a sensation in the hotel; their flirtation, as it was called, became the general topic of conversation. '* Who would imagine," said one lady to another, *' at his time of life he would be such a fool as to be drawn in by the match-making Mrs. Belmont ; let him beware ' when an old bachelor marries a young wife 1'" ** Marries! surely you do not think he will carry the farce so far." ** Consider whom he has to deal with, and that this is the first time in his life of his being in such a dilemma. He will not know how to extricate himself. He never, until now, paid a lady the smallest attention, but what was per^ fectly general. Now he drives the Bel- monts to Sea View. Mrs. Belmont said CAPRICE. 49 to liim — " You may just come with us, and show Jem, what view you wish to have taken." At length their marriage was publicly spoken of. Mr. Farrel, the master of the hotel, told him of the report in cir- culation. Sir Offingdon was in the deepest amaze, and said, he was not at all aware of showing any preference to the young lady that could give rise to such a report ; or induce her friends to form such a notion. ** He cared," he said, '* very little about it; the Belmonts would deserve the disappointment for their egregious vanity, in pretending to him. If he were to marry, he fancied he could match himself mo?e eligibly than with Belmont's daughter." Thus ended the conversation, leaving him doubly inflated with vanity, and resolving to punish Mrs. Belmont's as- surance by neglect. Tlie punishment fell heaviest on him- self. He was now so accustomed to VOL. 1. D ■ . 50 CAPRICE. Mrs. Belmont's flattery, to Miss Bel- mont's superior conversation, rendered to him delightful by her mother's al- ways leading to such subjects as were most interesting to him; that he felt as if not knowing what to do with himself; uncomfortable, and alone in a crowd of company. The gentlemen would not be at the trouble of attending to him ; as to the ladies, the sensible and well- informed kept him at a distance ; and those whose society he used to appre- ciate, appeared now light and trifling. Miss Belmont had mixed in the highest circles, had acquired good tact, and gave importance to every subject she conversed on. Just at this juncture, Colonel Elmour arrived, and was more devoted than ever to Miss Belmont. Mrs. Belmont was seriously alarmed, and at a loss how to act; not daring absolutely to for- bid the ColoneFs attentions, as she was not secure of Sir Offingdon, and saw, with grief, he felt no emotion of jealousy. CAPRICE. 51 In despair, and unable to restrain her vexation, she thought she might ven- ture to tell Sir Offingdon how shocked she was at their mentioning her daugh- ter's name with Colonel Elmour. The baronet was sitting at the upper end of the room, no one near him : she was almost tempted then to pour forth her uneasiness ; but fearing the company- would observe her, deferred it until they should be quite alone. She thought he looked grave, and wondered he did not come as usual to speak to her. Sir Offingdon retired very early, and sent for Mr. Farrel, to make arrange- ments for his departure the next day. Mr. Farrel w^as ready to hang him- self when he found the communication he had made likely to send away his patron. He ventured to expostulate, knowing well the weak side of the character he had to deal with ; repre- senting how unfortunate it was that he should relax in his attentions to Miss LIBRARY UNIVERSITV OF ^llWOI? 52 CAPRICE. Belmont, on the very day of Colonel Elmour's arrival; who flirted so much with her, that every one supposed she had discarded Sir Offingdon. '' Even the servants, sir, are whispering among themselves ; I heard them. One of them, said to me, as I came up — ' See how Sir OflSngdon went to bed in dudgeon, because the colonel has taken his love !' " " Who is this Colonel Elmour ?" in- quired the baronet ; who, so far from feeling jealous, did not even know he was of the party. However, on this representation, feel- ing his vanity severely wounded, he gave up his present intention of leaving the hotel ; and returned to the drawing room, to show he was still more highly favoured by Miss Belmont than this votary of Mars. Miss Belmont was so situated on his return, that he could not approach her. He contemplated her at a distance, and never before thought her so handsome, CAPRICE, 53 or so strikingly elegant ; he could not but reflect, how dazzlingly beautiful his lamily diamonds would look in her dark glossy hair ; and that unless he were to marry, he had no way of shov/- ing them : — if a man were to make such a fool of himself, she would be a suffi- cient apology. He felt a strong curio- sity to know the subject of their con- versation, and drew nearer for the pur- pose of overhearing it. Mrs. Belmont had been observing him for some time, and took care to lead her daughter to say what she knew would please him most. They were talking of the beau- ties of Sea View. Jemima s admiration of it was unfeigned ; and she was. elo- quently describing its scenery to her lover. The baronet continued to ob- serve her in silence, entertaining thoughts more favourable to Mrs. Belmont's views than he had done hitherto. Supper be- ing announced, he led Jemima out, and sat next her: their conversation was 54 CAPIUCE. more animated than usual, and he abso- lutely attempted to talk sentimentally. His rest that night was disturbed: sometimes he dreamed he was married ; and that his beauteous fair one was transformed into a large masculine wo- man, disputing with him the govern- ment of the servants, and the manage- ment of the house : again his disturbed fancy pictured his wife a fine lady, who would not condescend to look after the housemaids; consequently, they had neglected the paper bags he had ordered to be kept by the head of every bed, in which the loose feathers were depo- sited. From this inattention, they were flying about in all directions, and in shaking them off, and roaring to the housemaid, he awoke from his feverish slumber. His mind continued the en- tire day, in a state scarcely less dis- tracted . He considered Jemima a prize worth contending for ; and that it would be very humiliating to have it said, he CAPRICE. 55 was deserted for Colonel Elmour. He knew she could bring him no fortune, as her father's income was not large : but her having been so early trained to make a great show on small means, would compensate for that ; and accord- ing to the calculation of Moli^re's Miser, he might fairly estimate her portion at ten thousand pounds. Mrs. Belmont's entrance interrupted this reverie. Delighted at finding him alone, she drew a chair near his : and seating herself, pointed to where her daughter and the colonel were walking. — *' Look at them ! Is it not enough to break a poor mother's heart ? — he is going with her to the parade. I am glad they are all out of the room, and that I have you to myself. — Well — I am in such trouble ! — My poor dear Belmont en- courages Elmour; or else we would soon dismiss him. A daughter of mine shall never marry in the army. Poor Jail, is bored to death, and does not 56 CAPRICE. know how to get rid of him ! — To tell you the truth, last Winter, in Dublin, the poor child, to please her father, re- ceived his courtship more favourably ; -T-but now, he is odious to her ! Now that the poor girl has seen somebody, all others are indifferent to her. But what fretted us most is — shall I tell you ? — that they say she does not care a straw for Sir Offingdon, and has turned jilt for Colonel Elmour's sake." *' Good heavens, madam! what do you tell me? Surely no one presumes to make so free with my name, or with your fair daughter's?" ** It is too true ! They say she will not speak a word to you since the dash- ing young colonel came ! Oh ! it's a shame ! — if my child's heart was known, she does not think Elmour worthy to be compared to you ! Well, well, — his assurance 1 — he would not allow her to finish the picture she was drawing of your favourite view; and he was mad, CAPRICE. 57 jealous, at her undertaking it. — But the poor child, in despite of him, is trying to finish it; and was seeking all the morning some one to take her there, as the sketch was not completed to her fancy. Elmour, indeed, offered his services, and wants to drive her there in his tilbury ; but a pretty picture she would make of it with him, — he would not be satisfied unless he were made the prominent figure ! — and all your beauti- ful prospects would serve him as back ground! Oh! he will boast of your riches and grandeur, and of what a clever looking man you are, — only to let the world see how he has triumphed ! — Pitiful fellow !" Sir Offingdon listened with the pro- foundest attention ; and was as sensitive, as Mrs. Belmont could wish to the mcr- tification of such reports : and, in con- sequence of the conversation he had with Farrel, believed every word she uttered. 58 CAPRICE. *^ My dear madam I do not take me so much to heart. — I should be sorry indeed the view was not finished, to match the one your charming daughter has already drawn for me. I never be- held one more correctly sketched. I shall have an engraving taken from it. Can you not, my dearest madam 1 come with her in my carriage ? Do you think we are too much talked of?" *^ I might almost venture — perhaps we should meet no one. — Poor dear Belmont would be in a rage if we huffed the colonel I" The next morning Sir Offingdon went with Miss Belmont and her mother, in his barouche, to Sea View. They re- mained there all the morning; and never thought of time until the sketch was finished : when, to their amazement, they found it was long past the dinner hour. — ^They hurried into the barouche, aud drove to the hotel as fast as pos- sible ; hoping Mr. Farrel would keep CAPRICE. 59 back dinner; he did so as long as possi- ble; yet, by the time they arrived, the company had all sat down to dinner. Mr. Belmont received them on the steps of the hall door. He was seriously displeased with his wife and daughter, which, even to the baronet, was very evident. He hurried them into the din- ner room^ and obliged them to sit down without dressing; and took his daugh- ter's seat next Sir Offingdon, placing her on his other side, next Colonel El- mour. Sir Offingdon was highly piqued at this; he considered himself an object of curiosity to the whole company ; and that, from Mr. Belmont's manner, they would suppose he was rejected in favour of Colonel Elmour; in whose eye he saw lurking a secret triumph, as if cer- tain of his prize. He felt, likewise, for the unpleasant predicament the ladies were in ; and was much shocked, when he perceived Mi*s. Belmont ate no dinner. 60 CAPRICE. looking frightened and humbled. For the first time in his life he acted from the impulse of the moment. In a soft whisper, he begged of her to cheer up ; expressing his hopes, that when he should solicit her daughter's leave to explain himself to Mr. Belmont, all would turn out to their satisfaction. Mrs. Belmont felt her face and neck crimson with pleasure : she could scarce- ly conceal her emotion; and softly whis- pered in return, that he made her the happiest of women! She thought the ladies would never leave the dinner room ; and when the wished-for signal was made, she took Miss Belmont up stairs to her own apartment, told her what had passed, and that she might ex- pect to receive the baronet's addresses. Jemima believed this scarcely pos- sible, considering herself a very secon- dary object with Sir Offingdon ; seeing he was drawn to their society by the very gross flattery her mother constantly CAPRICE. 61 dosed him with; this species of gratifi- cation, she supposed, would never carry him farther than politeness required ; and by treating him with gentleness, she hoped to please her mother, and gain her cheerful acquiescence to her marriage with Colonel Elmour. He had proposed himself; but she knew, whilst there was a probability of her attaching a wealthy baronet, she would be furious at her thinking of another. At length, when convinced her mother was serious, and that Sir Offinsfdon would declare himself, she was over- whelmed with affliction; the poor girl burst into tears, and knew not what to say. Mrs. Belmont was enraged. " Un- grateful girl ! is it thus you receive the tidings of your good fortune ? — But, I see how it is— you may do as you please; but you shall never marry Elmour, that's flat! — No, no, you shall be my Lady Wilmot — or no daughter of mine ! 62 CAPRICE. Take your choice — but are you in your senses, Jem A to behave in this un- grateful manner to your poor mother — and all for what? For one that never asked you to marry him." *' Oh ! he did, mother,and I consented ; if yours and my father's consent could be obtained !" Mrs. Belmont gasped with passion, terrifying poor Jemima ; who was at length obliged to promise obedience to her wishes. Her mother then embraced her, as her darling Lady Wilmot, and drew so many splendid pictures of her future greatness, that she almost suc- ceeded in reconciling her daughter's mind to the dismissing of the poor colonel. In the mean time. Sir Offingdon was in a state of the greatest perplexity and perturbation. Thus, in one moment, with scarcely a previous reflection, he had given up his liberty. And what was his inducement ? — what was his motive ! CAPRICE. 6^ He could not readily answer. — Was it because the mother so justly appreciated his merits, that he should give himself to the daughter? — Gifted with beauty and talent, she would not disgrace him at the head of his establishment : but then, no fortune ; not even as much as would purchase a diamond necklace. — ' But there was no retracting; although the reluctance he felt in sharinsg with her his authority over his establishment was great. However, he was deter- mined she should interfere as little as possible. On his coming out of the dinner- parlour, Mrs. Belmont sent him to her daughters, who were in the garden; at which Mr. Belmont seemed highly dis- pleased, and was following, when his wife called him back, and before he could remonstrate, she made him ac- quainted with his daughter's good for- tune. He was very much astonished, as. h^ 64 CAPRICE. always conceived the baronet studied his ease too much ever to admit of a partner; particularly at his time of life, when his habits were all formed. He was equally dazzled with Mrs. Bel- mont by the splendour of the match, but not so sanguine in his hopes of its conducing to her happiness. They followed them to the garden. Sir Offingdon seeing them from a distance, came to meet them, leaving Jemima with her sister. He declared him- self in very handsome terms to Mr. Belmont, saying he had obtained per- mission of their lovely daughter to soli- cit his and Mrs. Belmont's consent to their union ; and that he trusted as to settlement, he should be able to meet their wishes. Thus the match was made, to the astonishment of every one, and equally so to the parties themselves ! Poor Colonel Elmour returned to his regiment, uttering many a philippic against the inconstancy of women. CAPRICE. 65 The whole party left Milltown Malby the next day for Dublin, and were much disappointed on hearing the Lis- towel's were in Paris. Mrs. Belmont declared she was expiring to commu- nicate her happiness to Lady Elizabeth, and regretted her daughter's nuptials were not honoured by their presence. The ceremony was performed very shortly after their arrival in Dublin. CHAPTER V. " ITiou art not A feather, to be stirr'd by every breeze Of little incident." Lord Ardsallagh accompanied the Listowels to the Continent ; through his influence Listowel detained Lady Eliza- beth there five years. At the end of that period, her brother's presence was necessary in Ireland ; therefore Listowel hoped the infancy of his children being- over, he might indulge his wife by re- turning, on her giving him a solemn promise, that his daughters should be left under the care of a governess, and not brought into public until of a pro- per age. About the end of April they returned to Ireland, and landing in Dublin, were CAPRICE. 67 impatient, after so long an absence, to embrace their children, who, with their governess, awaited their arrival in Rut- land Square. They found them beau- tiful and promising; Listowel hoped, as he fondly folded them in his arms, that the interest they must excite in his wife's bosom, would eventually efface that egotism of character which concealed all her fine qualities, and made the unhappiness of his life. He had suffered a great deal, during their residence on the Continent, from her whims and caprices ; and had in- dulged her in every folly, never op- posing her, except when he considered his doing so a positive duty. The Belmonts were amongst the fore- most of their visitors, with the Wil- mots, who were now at the head of every thing gay and brilliant; Lady Wilmot's wit and beauty was the topic of the day. She rejoiced at the return of the Listowels; Lady Elizabeth had 68 CAPRICE. always been her kind friend. Lis towel did not regret this intimacy, although vanity was Lady Wilmot's reigning foible, yet it never led her into any glaring absurdity ; she had more talent, and was not so much engaged by trifles. Listowel hoped, as his wife was now engrossed by a sentimental friendship for Lady Wiimot, she would leave her daughters under the care of a very re- spectable woman, placed over them by Doctor Berry. He had been equally successful in his recommendation of Mr. Villars (Edward's tutor), who was an excellent scholar, with polished man- ners ; of a calm and steady temper; able ' to clear by patient definition ail the mysteries of science,' and in every respect fully competent to the task he had undertaken. He was highly approved of by Lady Elizabeth, who flattered herself she should be equally fortunate in her choice of a French governess, as it was CAPRICE. 69 far from her intention to leave her daughters in the charge of that good sort of a person, Mrs. Ryan. Listowel, in vain, urged his strong pre- possession against French governesses: the generality of them, he supposed, came over in the suite of English fami- lies, as ladies' or children's maids ; for he conceived no young person of edu- cation and unblemished reputation, would leave her own country to seek a precarious subsistence in a foreign land; that, in consequence, they must, in every essential point, be found misera- bly deficient. He v^as resolved, how- ever, since his objection had no weight with Lady Elizabeth, that her charac- ter should undergo the strictest inves- tigation. One was at length found, to whom he could make no ostensible objection; she was about the middle age, and had educated some young ladies of the first fashion. He, however, made one 70 CAPRICE. proviso, that their religious education should be attended to by Mr. Villars, when he returned with Edward in the vacation. Lis towel heard constantly from Mrs. Jackson, of Louisa's improvement. He requested she would, with Mrs. Kelly\s assistance, have a school for the poor children on his estate, and endeavour to interest his daughter for them, likewise to make her his almoner. It would, he considered, enlarge her ideas, and strengthen her mind, to be thus early led to reflect how others struggled with adversity ; and having it occasionally in her power to relieve their necessities, would prevent her compassion from de- generating into mere sentiment. He wished her to feel the pleasure that springs from benevolence, whilst the consciousness of being only a deputy, would guard her vanity. CHAPTER VI. *^ Impute it not a crime To me, or to my swift passage that I slide O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried Of that wide gap. " Your patience this allowing I turn my glass ; and give my scene such growing As you had slept between." When Mary Listowel had attained her sixteenth year, her mother sent her to petition Captain Listowel for per- mission to accompany them on their visit to Sea View ; urging, that as she was to be presented the following Win- ter, he might now indulge her without departing very far from his determina- tion, of not allowing her to appear in public before that period. He granted her request, thinking it would be a fair opportunity of studying 72 CAPRICE. her character ; as the system of educa- tion he had adopted debarred him ahnost entirely from the presence of his chil- dren. Lady Elizabeth's accepting this invitation afforded him great satisfaction : the Wilmots had often invited her ; and he believed she could not now have conquered her repugnance to going so far South, but that Listowel Park had not been lately mentioned ; she there- fore yielded to her friend Lady Wilmot's earnest entreaties, to assist her in laying out, at Sea View, a garden in the Italian manner. They reached Sea View early on the day appointed ; the Belmonts were there, and no other company expected until the following week. It was about the middle of June, the weather delightful : they walked about the grounds until dinner time, and were charmed with the beauty of the place, which was then at its height. It is not uncommon to see the pro- CAPRICE. 73 prietors of beautiful places, fine houses, &c. insensible to the beneficence of their Creator in thus distinguishing them ; or else, by untoward circumstances de- barred from enjoying them; affording their neighbours a melancholy lesson, of how very inadequate every thing in this sublunary world is to bestow hap- piness. This was not the case with Sir Offing- don Wilmot and his lady : they were ever alive to the pleasures of show and ostentation ; their watchful eye ran over all — every thing, to see that all was suitable — all shown off to the best ad- vantage. Captain Listowel could scarcely for- bear smiling ; he was of a lively dispo- sition, and had rather a turn for satire ; but too polite to make his host the ob- ject of ridicule, and too benevolent not to compassionate his foibles, he regret- ted that one v/ho had so much in his power, should thus waste his energy on E 74 CAPRICE. trifles, making them the business of his life. As to Lady Wilmot, her character was still a riddle to him ; vanity, he saw, was likewise her reigning foible; but then, hers was not engrossing, its influ- ence not unbounded ; and, although she attended to what was trifling more than to what was necessary, yet her deport- ment was dignified. To suit the baro- net's taste she dressed magnificently ; it became her best, as hers was a face and form that shone more in public circles than in private life. Conscious that her husband's mind was uncultivated, she constantly endea- voured to lead the conversation to sub- jects on which he was best informed. He felt the advantage of this, sensible of never having before appeared so re- spectable, and allowed her unbounded influence, such as a strong mind always obtains over a weak. In short, she was the real spring of all his actions, which she carefully concealed, and never inter- CAPRICE. 75 fered with his management of the house- hold, or with any of his fancies in mat- ters of trifling import. The next day was occupied in driving over the grounds. Listowel was happy to indulge the vanity of his host by expressing his great admiration. But of all the admirers of his place, none gave him such exquisite pleasure as the in- nocent Mary, who expressed her delight with the enthusiasm natural to her age ; she was blithe as a bird just escaped from its cage : her light airy form was set oif by her riding dress. Mounted on a handsome palfrey, her father's gift, she rode with her brother and Mr. Villars, to whose care she was strongly recom- mended. Her father entreated he would endeavour to keep her buoyant spirits within bounds. '* You may observe," said he, '* her mother is too much charmed with her to see she has a fault : she thinks all her extravagancies wit and humour- — indications of genius ; and 76 CAPRICE. is indignant at the idea of their proceed- ing from mere animal spirits and child- ishness." Mr. Villars promised to exert all his influence. There could not have been a more troublesome task assigned him ; and the first specimen she gave disheart- ened him not a little. On their setting out he had requested permisson to ride by her, '^ as," he said, f^her horse might prove unmanageable among so many strange ones." She laughed:— *' Oh! my good sir, do not fear my horse. You know papa would not set me on one that was not as gentle as possible. But pray confess, do you not fear the rider "will require management ? — and gallantly try to conceal the leading strings you intend to restrain me with ?" ** Well, since you will have the truth," said Villars, '' your father requested I would attend you ; but, if you have any objection, I will give up my dele- CAPRICE. 77 gated trust to any one you think more eligible, provided you make a discreet choice. Who will you have? Shall I send Sir Offingdon ?" '' Oh, no ! I appoint you," said Mary, *' my true knight. You have more com- mon sense, which you know is what I want. As to the beauties of this place, words are not wanted ; it is fairy land, and we have only to look around to be enchanted." '* I see you are an enthusiastic ad- mirer of nature," returned Villars. " Have you never seen Listowel Park ? It is within two or three miles of Kil- larney, and from it there is most beauti- ful mountain scenery, far superior to what you see here ; this is but a tame view in comparison." *' I hope my papa will take us there," replied Mary. *' I am sure he would, but your mo- ther, I fear, would think it too retired," observed Villars. 78 CAPRICE. *' "We may bring a party with us ; and then I am certain mamma will not refuse me" They were now joined by the two Miss Belmonts, Sir Offingdon, and Lis- towel. Mary was the life of the party ; her artless expressions of unfeigned admira- tion attracted Lady Wilmot's attention : she asked her if she had been at Kil- larney, saying — " There, indeed, nature is to be seen in her most romantic garb." Mary replied she never had. Mr. Listowel said business required his pre- sence at Listowel Park, and that if she pleased she might accompany him. '' How could you think of Mary's accompanying you, Mr. Listowel ?" said Lady Elizabeth. '' She is yet too young to leave me. You know I am afraid of the water, and have such a dislike to boating parties; some accident frequently oc- curs ; and then there is generally a great CAPRICE. 79 mist; and those mountains attract the rain." " The weather is now so fine, mamma/' rejoined Mary, *' that there would be no danger of cold ; and we might have our party so large as to secure your having society in your morning drives, independent of us that love boating. I am sure Edward will think with me." Edward then rode up to the carriage, and was delighted with the party pro- posed. Lady Elizabeth could not re- fuse her children, and at length it was arranged that Mr. Listowel should go there the next day, with his son and Mr. Villars, to have their mansion house prepared to receive, on the following week, the party then assembled at Sir Offingdon's. Mary was in great spirits. ''They were all," she said, ''indebted to her for the idea of this visit." She laughed, and chatted, and galloped, until poor 80 CAPRICE. Mr. Villars was quite oppressed with fatigue and alarm. At length, to his great satisfaction, Sir Offingdon re- quested they would return, and make their toilette for dinner. CHAPTER VII. " What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had trained her pace,— A foot more light, a step more true. Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew ; E'en the slight hare-bell rais£d its head. Elastic from her airy tread : What though upon her speech there hung. The accents of the mountain tongue,— Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, The listener held his breath to hear." At a very early hour on the following morning, the gentlemen set out on their expedition, and arrived late in the even- ing at Listowel park. It was Edward's tirst visit.. The beauty of the winding approach enchanted him, sometimes appearing as if cut through rock ; and then dark groves opening, as if to dis- play a magnificent chain of mountains. 82 CAPRICE. Leaving their horses with their ser- vants, they vsrent in at the hall door, vs^hich stood open. Listowel led the way to Mrs. Jackson's parlour, where the worthy couple were sitting. Surprised and pleased at the arrival of Mr. Lis- towel and his son, Mr. Jackson felt an honest pride in thinking his employer v/ould now be sensible of the strenuous efforts he had made in his service; Mrs. Jackson likewise felt some pride in Louisa, whom she thought a paragon of perfection. The evening being dark, the tra- vellers did not immediately perceive a young person who presided at the tea table ; she appeared retiring from obser- vation ; and putting on her bonnet, that lay on a chair beside her, murmured a soft good night to Mrs. Jackson, and was stealing out of the room, when Mr. Jackson hastily bade her return. '' My dear Miss Louisa, wait a mo- ment, and I will be ready to attend you." CAPRICE. 83 Listowel was looking out of the win- dow, admiring the serenity of the even- ing, not conscious of her presence until he heard the name Louisa uttered ; he started ! and turning round, exclaimed — '*Is it possible?" She had her back to him, and did not hear his exclamation, or observe his emotion ; or how much she was the object of his scrutiny. Mr. Villars only observed him, and for an instant supposed he had seen something from the window that caused him surprise. In a moment he discovered his mistake; and saw the fair object of his exclamation, speaking to Mr. Jack- son in the softest, sweetest voice he had ever heard ; but strongly tinctured with the Kerry accent. She seemed expostulating : he overheard her say — "There is not the least occasion, my dear sir, for your taking such trou- ble; John and Judy are below; they will take care of me for this short dis- 84 CAPRICE. tance." She then whispered in a lower tone — ''I would not, for the world, take you from your guests." Still Mr. Listowel stood like one transfixed ; but when the young per- son went towards the door, he stepped before her, and holding the lock, said, in an agitated and hurried manner — ** I very much fear, madam, we are unfortu- nately the cause of your returning at this late hour; and I request we may not put you to any incpnyenience." She started, surprised at his earnest- ness ; but quickly recovering her self- possession, thanked him for his atten- tion ; assuring him she sometimes re- turned at that hour to the Glebe, the distance being only half a mile. Edward now shared in Mr, Villars' surprise, which considerably increased by what followed. ''Yes," returned Listowel, '* half a mile only ; but it is a lonely way, and the night looks lowering; you must CAPRICE. 85 allow me to form part of your escort, and assist John and Judy in protecting you over the mountains." *'You are indeed," replied Louisa, '* very considerate, and very charitable to take a stranger's ease of mind so much to heart. I certainly have never passed the mountain at this late hour alone; but others have; therefore I should reproach myself if I indulged in foolish fear, and were the cause of your being so long in the night air after a jour- ney." This was spoken in an earnest, timid manner; her reluctance to give trouble conquering her usual bashfulness. Listowel seemed irresolute, he had taken her hand, which he held, while his own trembled. To let her go un- protected he found impossible ; yet he feared betraying his anxiety, should he insist on accompanying her; and was much relieved when Mr. Villars offered his services. 86 CAPRICE. Listowel thanked him, observing, with a careless air, that as he was the cause of the young lady's returning, he felt himself answerable for her safety. Mr. Jackson went through the cere- mony of introduction; saying, she was a relation of his worthy friend, the curate ; and that he was proud to add, she was his wife's pupil. Louisa withdrew, accompanied by Edward and Mr. Villars; she inquired for her guides, John and Judy, but was told they had gone an hour before : on which Louisa observed, timidly ad- dressing her companions — *' I now fully feel the value of your politeness, since I find my father's servants have returned home without me. The beauty of the walk would, if the evening were not un- fortunately so far advanced, make some amends for your being detained." This was said in a low voice; her head hung down as if from bashfulness, her large bonnet completely shading her face. CAPRICE. 87 Her companions each offered her an arm, which she modestly declined. The path they had taken was now shaded by trees, which increasing the darkness, Villars and Edward could not conceal their apprehensions that she had taken the wrong path, as she led them by the side of a hill, and was descending into a deep vale. . On perceiving their uneasiness, she assured them with cheerfulness of man- ner, that she knew the way perfectly well; and that in the whole country, they could not have a more experienced guide, as she went that path two or three times every week for the last ten years. *' Ten years 1" repeated Edward ; *' I did not suppose our guide had been so sage in years : from your voice I should suppose you in first youth." ''Oh!" replied she, ''can you not see that my height is beyond that ? But the night is growing uncommonly dark; 88 CAPRICE. in day-light you will see a most beau- tiful view from this path." Mr. Villars now made some inquiry for Mr. Kelly. ** It is some years siiace I visited him : then he had no child ; yet, as you observe, your height proclaims you to have been longer in the world." *' It does," replied she; '' I call him father, and obey him as such ; for I know no other — but, he is only my re- lation ; and I do not know within what degree of affinity : but I love him be- yond any one in the world." The path here became so very rugged and uneven, that Edward prevailed on her to take his arm. The tones of her voice were rich and harmonious; but still she had the Kerry accent very strong. Edward wondered why he listened to her with so much interest, and was not disgusted with the vulgarity of her voice, which cor- responded so ill with her expressions,, and the modest ease of her manners. CAPRICE. 89 At length they arrived at the Glebe : it was so late, Villars and his young friend refused her invitation to enter, but ac- cepted her offer of a guide, and taking leave, requested permission to visit her the next day. The gentlemen sending their guide on a litttle way before, gave a loose to their astonishment. '*Who can she be?" inquired Edward. *' My father was agi- tated ; — and yet they appeared perfect strangers." " He did not even appear to know her by name, until Mr. Jackson pre- sented her," returned Villars. *'Yes," replied his pupil; '' I am certain they are unacquainted with each other ; she denied a previous knowledge of him ; and her manners are perfectly artless and unaffected. She spoke of his care and attention with gratitude; observing how very kind-hearted he must be to feel so much for a stranger." *' You had this conversation, I sup- 90 CAPRICE. pose, when she accepted your arm, and walked on before me ?" *^Yes," replied Edward; ^nhe path became rugged: I told her I should ill obey my father's injunction, did I not assist her with my arm. She laugh- ingly accepted it; saying she would be sorry to make me guilty of the sin of disobedience. I long to see her; I am sure she is very charming and young, although she has been ten years walking the mountains alone." On their return, they found Listowel with Mr. Jackson; the former, they observed, looked anxious and inquiring: however, they did not indulge his cu- riosity by any remark, except on the darkness of the night ; when, taking their candles, they retired for the night. CHAPTER VIII. I enter thy garden of roses. Beloved and fair Haidee, Each morning where Flora reposes, For siirely I see her in thee. Byron. Louisa, on leaving the gentlemen, ran into the little parlour, where she found the good curate at his usual even- ing's occupation. He was amazed at her return at that late hour; but all alarm was quickly dispelled, by the pleased and gay expression of her open countenance. "My dear child!" said he, embracing her ; *' what brings you home at this late hour, and alone ? Have you and my worthy friend, Mrs. Jackson, had a boxing match? — and has she turned you out?" 92 CAPRICE. '* No, my dear sir; we were as peace- able as ever ; but three gentlemen ar- rived, the owners of the house, and I was obliged to make way for them." She then explained all she knew of the matter, dwelling very much on the kind- ness of the elder gentleman, and con- cluded with saying— ** she had never met with such pleasant good natured men. But to-morrow, papa, you shall judge for yourself, they will call here ; two of them know you, I think, at least Mr. Villars said so. The young man they called Edward ; I liked him very much, he seemed so gentle, so pleasant ; I long for to-morrow, to see if he is handsome." She then kissing her father, gaily bid him good night, and went to her chamber. He sat for some time absorbed in thought, looking still on the direction she had passed : he admired, he rejoiced in her lively spirits, and returned thanks CAPRICE. 93 to heaven for sending them, in their old age, such a cheering companion. Yet he was often oppressed with melan- choly reflections, when he considered she must be near sixteen, and that now, if ever, her parents would claim her : her manners were so attaching, it would be like parting with life to resign her ; particularly, as her father acknowledged her mother was a vain, silly woman ; he felt how dreadful to him and Mrs. Kelly, would be the necessity of giving up the comfort of their age, to such guidance : so innocent and so inexpe- rienced, might she not, from novelty and example adopt every folly? — and from the volatility of her disposition, might she not be entangled in a laby- rinth of dissipation ? *' Oh, my child ! I must pray for you, and carefully instruct you in your religious and moral duties!" He sighed heavily, and these melan- choly reflections unfitting him for study, he retired to rest at an earlier hour than usual. 9^ CAPRICE. Louisa rose with the dawn, as blithe as a bird; her dreams had been en- chanting ; she thought she had been in a handsome pleasure-boat on the lake of Killarney ; and that the three gentlemen she had met the preceding evening were in it ; but, unfortunately, the two that she felt most interested in, wore masks. She dressed herself very carefully, and begged the key of the rector's bed- chamber, to comb up her beautiful raven tresses at the only looking-glass in the house. Every one she thought un- usually late this morning. The strangers were not mentioned; except in account- ing to Mrs. Kelly for Louisa's return. At two o'clock, Edward and Mr. Villars came ; the latter renewed his acquaintance with the curate; and pre- senting his pupil to him, politely in- quired for the young lady they had escorted over the mountain. Mr. Kelly smiled; and said, if they walked into the garden, they would CAPRICE. 95 find her with his good woman. He led the way; Mrs. Kelly, from a dis- tance, saw their approach, and advanc- ing to meet them, said, she supposed she was addressing the gentlemen who had been so kind to her dear child : and added, she hoped for the pleasure of their company in the summer-house, where she had prepared strawberries and cream. They were going to refuse, until they saw a lady seated in the arbour, who arose on their approach, and said some- thing, in a low voice, on being pre- sented to them. They still could not see her face, it was concealed by a large bonnet: she was of the tall middle size, dressed in a russet-brown stuff, neatly fitted to her shape ; the sym- metry of her form so perfect, that even in this coarse attire she could not pass unobserved. Edward tried to lead her into con- versation ; he spoke of the beauty of 96 CAPRICE. the walk they had just come, and the fine view from Listowel Park ; which he said far surpassed in richness and beauty any he had ever beheld. He remarked what a beautiful lake there was at the west end of the house. *' I think," said he, ''it is worthy of a boat; I hope to procure one at Kil- larney." At this happy hearing, Louisa held up her head, forgetting her shyness, and throwing back the beautiful glossy ringlets that shaded her eyes, said — *' I have often thought how charming a boat would be on that lake; it is so retired and tranquil, fringed by those graceful trees ; it irresistibly engages attention, notwithstanding the grand ob- jects near it." He smiled at her eagerness, and al- most started on beholding her coun- tenance ; he thought he had never seen any one so beautiful. She did not per- ceive his earnest gaze, until his silence CAPRICE. 97 made her look towards him, and blush deeply on finding herself the object of his attention. Mr. Villars now joined them; the con- versation became general : neither of the gentlemen could take their eyes from Louisa, who w^as greatly relieved by her mother sending her to pull flowers. In this occupation she quickly fur- got her embarrassment ; and presently presented each of the gentlemen with a nosegay. ** How comes it, my dear," said her mother, *' that you reserve the most beautiful flow^ers for yourself?"' *' This nosegay is not for myself," said she, colouring. ** Well, my dear, who is it for ?" She looked at Edward, and said, hesitatingly — *' I hope you will have the goodness to give these flowers to the gentleman who was so considerate for me last night. They are from my own garden, and I think the finest VOL. 1. F 98 CAPRICE. I have seen this season ; otherwise I would not offer them." Edward, much surprised, received the houquet, and with a gravity and ear- nestness of manner, unaccountable to Louisa, inquired if she had seen his father previous to their interview of yesterday evening. On her replying in the negative, he looked significantly at Mr. Villars, who had risen to de- part. Having wished the ladies a good morning, and reminded the curate of his promise to dine with Mr. Lis to we], he took his pupil away, lest he should betray further his ungovernable cu- riosity. *' Did you ever behold such a striking likeness ?" observed Edward to Villars, when they were a little distance from the house. '' Could you not have ima- gined Mary w^as present V '* 1 grant you," returned Villars, '' there is a strong resemblance; but, allow me to say the comparison is CAPRICE. 99 much in this lady's favour. I admire the grace and dignity of her figure ; more striking from meeting it so un- expectedly ; and which, notwithstand- ing the coarseness of her garb, appears so conspicuous : the gracefulness of her motions absolutely fascinated me!'* '• Oh ! is it so ? You have," said Ed- ward, ** fallen in love with this woocl nymph. I take it she prefers me ; but I am afraid my father will rival us both !' '* For Heaven's sake, Edward, do not set your affections on her! — I strongly suspect it would in you be criminal." •'What is it you tell me? Where does your imagination lead you ? Have you any reason for this? Can you a tale unfold — the very suspicion of which freezes my young blood? Do speak!"' ** I fear I have said too much ! I have not the least reason — but conjecture only; — your father's agitation last night! — her striking likeness to your sister ! — 100 CAPRICE. and still more to your father ! — and her preferring you both so much to me! and then—'* *' Oh! you may stop," returned Ed- ward; ** now I see all : you have taken a mountain off my breast; you think no- thing but a miracle could make her pass you over. You will find the ladies in general acknowledge us to be pret- tier fellows ; as to the likeness, I allow it is extraordinary ; but sometimes na- ture will play these pranks. They say men and their wives are very like; — • now I am very like my father, ergo she must be like me — and, perhaps, was sent down from heaven to be my wife !" " Well, say so to your father, and see if he will object," replied Villars. *' Oh! it is impossible! she appears younger than I am ; and my father was always a moral man." Listowel came to meet them : he said he had finished his business, and given every necessary direction for the recep- CAPRICE. 101 tion of the company. He made no in- quiry as to their visit, but his manner was hurried and anxious: at length he observed the flowers. ** You look as if you had been at Flora s court ; and have bouquets as spruce as any May-boy." ** They were presented by Flora her- self. Here is one she sent as a small tribute of gratitude to you. Nothing is to be refused from her fair hands," said Edward. Listowel held out his hand to receive it, he coloured very deeply. Edward talked of Louisa's beauty, declaring, he had never seen so inter- esting a young creature — *• Just what youthful poets fancy when they love !" The high colour on his father's cheek faded away to an ashy paleness. '* For shame, .Edward!" exclaimed he, " why talk in such a foolish manner ! This young person is born in the. shade. 102 CAPRICE. — It would be highly improper in you to draw her into notice, and make her the gaze of the idle set that are to be here next week. — So, pray, as you dread my displeasure, let me hear no more of her !" Here they were interrupted : one of the tenants had a word to sjmkc to his honour. Edward left them, waiting- only to observe the fate of the nosegay ; which he saw his father deposit safely in his bosom, and show great care for its preservation. He felt painfully puz- zled what to think ; considering himself as criminal for entertaining such sus- picions. ' Impossible !' he said : — ' My father prove to be an immoral man ; a finished hypocrite ! ' The idea made him shudder: he could not even mention the subject to Villars, although they strolled about together, unpremeditately retracing their steps, until they met the curate, who returned with them to dinner. CAPRICE. 103 Listowel did not fear his recognising him, conscious he was so well disguised by the enormous whiskers and large wig he wore on their first and only inter- view. CHAPTER IX, " Tliou hast an eye of tender blue. And thou hast locks of Daphne's hue, And cheeks that shame the morning'^ breuk^ And that might for redness make Roses seem pale beside them." The following day, Listowel and his companions returned at the dinner to Sea View. They found many new ar- rivals — Lord Ardsallagh, Mrs. Stock- dale and her son, Mr. Stockdale, Mr. Talbot, and the young Lord Leethem ; besides a large party engaged to dinner from the hotel at Miltown Malby. On the return of the gentlemen from the dinner table to the drawing room, Mary, impatient to speak to Villars of Listowel Park, asked him numberless questions ; he endeavoured to give her CAPRICE. 105 every satisfaction : she then told him she had missed him sadly ; that his absence had nearly been of fatal consequences to her, as she had fallen from her horse, the animal whose gentleness she had boasted of: it turned out very spirited, ran away with her several times ; *' and,"' added she, with a smile, and blushing deeply ; *' I find I do not know how to manage either myself or my horse without your assistance." He laughed, and asked if she intended to appoint him her father confessor, as well as 'squire; — ''but remember," said he '*if you appoint me to that office, I shall be very severe; and your penance for all offences sjiall be to listen to plain truth." '* It will be very salutary. I will beai' it all — provided I meet with ap- probation when I act right ; otherwise, I fear I should quickly relapse into error," said Mary. . Villars looked very grave, — ** That I06 CAPRICE. principle is dangerous. It is acting well on a wrong motive; and," added he, smiling, ** deserves a lecture." '' Not now ; when we walk to-mor- row," returned his fair pupil, ** I will then have pleasure in listening to you ; if you will allow me the privilege of de- fending myself a little." *' That is but fair, and I must be on my guard that you do not make 'the worse appear the better reason;' and that I do not forget my office of censor ; and give you too much of this adulation you are so fond of." Mr. Stockdale here interrupted them, to solicit her to accept him as a partner in the country dance. She turned her beautiful eyes, with a beseeching look^ to Mr. Villars, to claim her as his part- ner; who not choosing to understand the hint, turned away ; saying, he was happy to leave her in such good hands. She reddened with vexation ; and Mr. Stockdale had to address her again be- CAPRICE. 107 fore she answered; when, giving him her hand, they joined the set. Mr. Villars was surprised not to see Edward among the dancers ; who, he at length found sitting by himself, looking very melancholy, at the lower end of the room. Talbot joined them; they rallied Edward on his gravity ; representing his want of gallantry in allowing Miss Belmont to remain a wall-flower. He pleaded a head-ache, and retorted, that such idle men as they were had no right to censure him. Talbot declared he had intended ask- ing Miss Listowel ; but imagined, from her long conversation with Villars, she was pre-engaged. ** Pray," said he, addressing himself to Edward, *' did you, in your late excursion, call at the Glebe? — and did you see a young person there the very image of your sister?" This was the very subject torturing poor Edward's brain, and which filled him with such melancholy ideas ; he 108 CAPRICE. could not bear to have it mentioned, and to avoid further discussion, replied rather abruptly: and at that moment seeing the youngest Miss Belmont dis- engaged, said, lest he should incur her mother's discipline, he had better lead her to the dance. Talbot looked after him. *' I fear," said he^ addressing Villars, '* Edv^ard is displeased ; yet, I do not know why. I compared his sister to one of the love- liest young persons I ever beheld. Did you see her? — and did you see the like- ness : '' I did ; it is indeed most striking !" returned Villars. ** You will allow, however, that the cottage maiden has the advantage." ** Rather say," returned Villars, ** Miss ListoweFs beauty is of another style ; you must admire the symmetry of her pliant slender figure, fairy in propor- tion; her motions are graceful; and she has great play of feature." CAPRICE. 100 > *' She has innocency and vivacity in her countenance, and the softest blue eyes," replied Talbot; '* nevertheless, 1 admire the life and intelligence of my fair recluse (as I call her) : there is an appearance of natural refinement about her ; a nobleness of soul, with an air of candour ; such innocence ! — you smile — but is it not so? — In speaking of one/' he added, *' you are irresistibly led to praise the qualities of her mind wrhich gives her that radiance of intellect; that makes one fan y her almost of a su- perior order of beings. In speaking of Miss Listowel, you admire the cast of her features, so delicate, so regular; and you talk of the magic of her bewitching softness, and innocent vivacity." *' If you had not been in such rap- tures with your recluse, I should," said Villars, ** pronounce you in love with Miss Listowel." ** Oh, no ! my adoration is paid to her counterpart," returned Talbot. ** But 110 CAPRICE. do not look surprised ; I have never told my love — love it cannot be called ; only a quick perception of rare and admirable qualities; a taste," said he, laughing, *' for the sublime and beau- tiful! I must tell you, how we became acquainted. " About six years ago, when I went first to the shooting lodge my father has at Killarney, she was there on a visit, to avoid the young Belmonts, who generally accompanied their father every Summer to the Glebe. They were then wild, riotous youths. My recluse had an antipathy to them; she was then a most lovely child. One day, these same troublesome youths rode over to Killarney, and were walk- ing with her and her young friends ; as usual, they began to romp with poor Louisa, that is her name; and in en- deavouring to extricate herself from them, her foot slipped, and she was precipitated into a mill-stream. Her CAPRICE. Ill young companions shouted vehemently ; but as for assistance they were too bewildered to offer any. Fortunately, I was strolling about with my gun, and hearing their cries, came just in time to save her from being drawn with velocity under the wheel. Though ray exertion was trifling, yet it saved her from so horrible a death, that her gra- titude knew no bounds : she declared, next to her father, she should always love and reverence me : and accord- ingly, every year, on my return to the lakes, I am sure to receive some gift, such as a purse wrought by her own hand, a fowling bag, flint case, &c. I tell her she pays me tribute for her life. She has a very good taste for drawing, in which I have occasionally assisted her; and she has had besides the ad- vantage of the best masters, who are drawn to that part of the world by its beautiful scenery : she is allowed to copy some of the very best represen- 112 CAPRICE. tations of art, collected by the late Mr. Listowel, at Listowel Park. I have not seen her these last six months, I hope " Here they were interrupted by Mary, who threw herself down on the chair beside them, quite exhausted from dancing ; and desired Villars to fan her. He replied, he was not practised in the management of the fan, but that he would do his best to please. '' Oh ! that is all I require ; I find so many expert, that your awkwardness will amuse me." Lord Leethem here interrupted her, sent by Lady Elizabeth, to desire her to promote a waltzing party ; the Miss Belmonts, he said, and other ladies had consented, provided Miss Listowel led the wav. ** An experienced, sage guide they have chosen," replied Mary, >yith an arch glance at Villars. ** They could not," returned his lord- CAPRICE. 113 ship, ** have a better. Who so well un- derstands the intricacies of the figure i — and who moves with such spirit, and such Ariel lightness ?"' " You will turn this poor head," said Mary: '' half these compliments would answer one so short a time from the strict discipline of the school-room. Pray collect the party." He obeyed instantly. . Mr. Villars then approached her: ** I cannot, in consci- ence," observed he, *' after the high honour you paid me the other morn- ing, of appointing me your knight, or your guardian, forbear remonstrating against this dancing-party ; I am cer- tain your father would be highly dis- pleased!" '* Is it possible ? I must say this is downright caprice. — But I forgive you," returned Mary, ** as I know the plea- sure of indulging in caprice." '' Is Villars," inquired Talbot, *' in the habit of waltzing that you accuse him of caprice ?" 114 CAPRICE. ** Oh, no !" replied she, very much diverted at such an idea; "still he is capricious : he knows, that the last two years of my life I have had, when in Dublin, a master regularly twice a week, to teach me to waltz, and lee* lured well, if I did not do my best : well, here I am, not a month since I left my school-room, where, I naturally supposed, I was in training for my ap- pearance in the world; ready to do my best; preparing to put my lessons in practice: when this gentleman steps forward, looking even more severe than my governess, saying — *' It is very im- proper to waltz !" — Now, pray tell me what guide I am to have if my school- room rules fail V ** In your own heart ; in your quick sense of wrong !" ** Well, perfect obedience shall serve instead of this quick sense of wrong. To tell the truth, which I hope you will not say is naughty, I like the amusement; and was enjoying the idea CAPRICE. 115 of dancing with Lord Leethera ; he is a so much pleasanter partner than my German master." Lord Leethem now came to lead her out. She smiled, and said, with the greatest composure — ** I have changed ray mind — your lordship may seek •another partner, as I shall not waltz to-night." **0h! it is impossible for you to change your mind now; the set are standing up." ** You will easily find another partner," observed Mary. *' Here comes Lady Elizabeth!" ex- claimed his lordship; *' her cards are laid aside for the purpose of seeing you exhibit. Pray, madam, exert your in- fluence with Miss Listowel ; she now refuses to waltz." Lady Elizabeth dissembled her displea- sure, afraid to remonstrate too warmly, lest she should expose her total want of authority ; and therefore mildly begged IIG CAPRICE. to know her objection. She could make none, excepting that she did not choose it ; and begged her dear mother, if she loved her, not to press it further; but assist Lord Leethem in finding another partner. Her mother seeing it vain to urge the point, desisted; and presently succeeded in procuring his lordship a partner. Mary turned towards Mr. Yillars, with a look of triumph. ** Now," said she, ** am I not a good child? Indeed you ought to thank me; for if I had mentioned your name to my lady-mo- ther, she would not have forgiven you this month." '* It was, indeed, very generous of you ; but I was prepared to support you, if you had applied to me." *' Oh, yes! with grave remarks, and wise saws; — mamma would not have attended to you — you must have lis- tened to her wise remarks ; she would have been doubly offended with you. CAPRICE. 117 if they did not prove unanswerable.— My plan is, to say I do not choose it ; she can then only call me capricious, and not accuse me of the more heinous crime of pretending to be wiser than herself." *' I do not, indeed, approve of your plan of being systematically obstinate," replied Villars : "I equally condemn heat in argument, and think gentle in- treaty, and fair representation, is what a young person should use when con- tradicted.'" *' Well," said Mary, looking at him from under her long eyelashes with the most fascinating softness, and colour- ing — " I shall do so with you ; but with the rest of the world I must be obsti- nate, I must be whimsical !" She rose, and went to her mother. Talbot laughed ; tapping Villars, as he appeared absorbed in thought, said — '* It is fortunate for me, it seems, 1 have this lady's counterpart, for I see how the land lies here !" 118 CAPRICE. '* You are quite mistaken," replied Villars; '' perhaps you do not know the situation I hold iu this family?" '' I know all, and more than you do! for I see she loves you," They now went to the supper-room, and at a late .hour separated for the night CHxVPTER X. " So wond'rous wild, the whole might seem The scenery of a fairy dream." Early in the following week, the ex- pected guests assembled at Listowel Park. The younger part of the com^ pany generally spent their mornings on the lakes ; whilst many, apprehensive f)f boating, drove out with Lady Eliza- beth: sometimes they brought cold pro- visions, the parties met, and dined un- der the shade of a spreading tree. AH were enchanted with the beauty and sublimity of the surrounding scenery, seldom returning until a late hour. Listowel's steps often bent toward* the Glebe ; but afraid of betraying his secret, he judged it prudent to forego 120 CAPRICE. this gratification, and to defer his visit until the ladies required his attendance, concluding Mrs. Belmont would bring them there, and that, in the sensation caused by Lady Elizabeth's presence, he might pass unobserved. Poor Louisa, during this time, was confined for air and exercise to the ))recincts of the garden. Often, whilst indulging melancholy reflections, she would cast an anxious glance over its broad fence of yew and holly, secretly hoping to see the strangers, as she called Mr. Villars and Edward, crossing the mountain-path leading to the Glebe, but to her great mortification they came not. She dared not mention how much they engrossed her thoughts, or how unaccountably they revived recollec- tions of past times ; which, from the ])eriod of her first coming, had been a forbidden subject of conversation. Mr. Kelly considered she would never pass for his relation, if allowed to talk of CAPRICE. 121 ''Mammas carriage!" *' Mamma's balls! &c." and that, if her mind were per- mitted to dwell on former grandeur, she would, by her innocent prattle, ex- cite the curiosity of his neighbours : — it was her father's particular request that every thing, previous to their first acquaintance, should be kept secret. The recollections of former days were in consequence very faint, and would have been quite obliterated, but that Mrs. Kelly, contrary to her hus- band's strict injunctions, questioned her; making her relate, on her first coming, all she knew of herself and family. It amounted to very little, consisting merely of descriptions of her fine clothes, and the christian names of her brother, sister, and maid. The surnames of her parents her infant tongue could not pronounce, although she often attempted it : had they men- tioned Listowel Park, it would at once have been made known to them, who VOL. I. G 122 CAPRICE. she was ; but the Kellys, and the per- sons she saw, were in the habit of styling it ' the Park.' Mr. Listowel had some fears upon the subject, and was happy to learn from Mr. Jackson, that his secret was safe ; and that, probably, whilst her articulation re- mained imperfect, her surname, if not repeated in her hearing, would escape her memory. Mr. Jackson judged right, all recol- lections of her early days became very faint, and would have faded away, but for the loquaciousness of Mrs. Kelly's maid-servant, who often amused her, while yet a child, with anecdotes of what she told on her first coming. Mr. Listowel's manner surprised her ; he haunted her imagination ; and unr accountably made her dwell on every thing she had heard of her first youth. His voice-— even his name — did not seem strange to her ear ; although she could not say she had ever heard them CAPBICE. 128 before. To see liim again was there- fore her first wish; she almost felt convinced, from his evident agitation on seeing her, that she was an object of interest to him, and that conse- quently he must know her family. Curiosity about them, had been her ear- liest feeling : Mr. Kelly always evaded her inquiries ; and at length, on her becoming more urgent, positively for- bid her questioning him further on the subject. He wished her to adopt the opinion of every one in their circle, and suppose herself his relation ; but he respected truth too much to make use of equivocation. She was there- fore, left to wild conjecture, which naturally increased the romantic turn of her mind. One morning, as she was sitting with Mrs. Kelly, Edward and Villars were shown into the room : Louisa was in a moment covered with blushes ; and showed such innocent pleasure at «ee- 124 CAPRICE. ing them again, as was very gratifying. The gentlemen entered into conversa- tion on topics they supposed would interest Mrs. Kelly, giving a ludicrous account of their adventures, and ex- cursions to Killarney : — the ladies were highly amused. The conversation next led to the stupidity of servants ; here the good woman of the house was per- fectly at home ; and had many anec- dotes to tell of Patrick and Biddy. They attended to her with great polite- ness, particularly Villars, whom she singled out. When Edward saw her thus engaged, he addressed Louisa, asking her in a low voice, why she had discontinued her rambles to Listowel Park ? *' The Jacksons have left it for a short time, therefore my visiting there now would be an inexcusable intrusion." " If my mother comes for you, will you, do you think, obtain permission to return with her?" inquired Edward. CAPRICE. U6 She coloured, and regarding him M'ith pleasure, said, she should be most happy to accompany her. After a pause, she added — '' I should then have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Listowel ; — is he not still at the Park?" Edward started. — *' Certainly — but why are you so anxious to meet him?"' ** It may appear strange to you, who mix so much in the world; but we Jive so retired. — I have spent so many happy days at the Park, that I na- turally wish to see the lord of its soil." ** As another inducement, I have got the boat you wished for on your fa- vourite lake ; it is now looking beau- tiful !" returned Edward. *' How very good this is of you !" ex claimed Louisa. *' But, alas ! I can only thank you : I am not allowed at pre- sent beyond the garden." '* I wish you could come to- morrow,'' fiaid her brother: *' my mother, I am 126 CAPRICE. sure, will be here this evening ; per- haps she may prevail upon you ?" Mr. Kelly coming in, the conversa- tion became general; and in about an hour the visitors took their leave. The younger part of the company from Listowel Park, went that morn- ing to see a stag-hunt ; leaving only Mr&. Belmont with Lady Elizabeth. Edward had detained Villars, to assist him in persuading his mother to visit the Glebe, and thought it probable, ta amuse her companion, she might con-t sent. - Accordingly, at breakfast Edward proposed they should visit, and invite the Kelly s. Her ladyship laughed at the idea of making company of them. Edward assured her Mr. Kelly was a well educated divine, though not versed in courts ; and that if she could prevail on Mrs. Kelly to accept her invitation, she would find her an adf« mirable specimen of simple life. c^PRiei:; m7. . ** That might be amusing. Mrs. Bel- mont, do you know ttese people ?" :: " Ml/ gracious 1 1 ought to have called there. Some years ago I spent part, of a Summer with them. Let me see^: it was the very Summer my daughter: Jem. bettered her circumstances. I can tell your ladyship they are worthy sort of people, charitable, and all that I They have a mighty pretty young body with them they were bringing up very decently." " Suppose," said Lady Elizabeth, " we call there this evening ; and if we think they will amuse us, invite them for to-morrow ?" Edward, on the strength of this, went to the Glebe to give notice of the in- tended visit. It had not been in his power to call sooner, as the ladies could not dispense with his attendance on their water-parties until the arrival of Stockdale and Talbot, who came the preceding day with Mrs. Stockdale. 128 CAPRICE. As the weather was hot, and it \vat» uncertain when the party would re- turn. Lady Elizabeth proposed their having an early dinner, taking a long drive, and calling at the Glebe on their return. CHAPTER XL \'ci '. let the rieli deride, the prowd disdain These simple blessings of the lowly train ; To me more dear, congenial to my heart. One native charm, than all the gloss of aot. Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play. The soul adopts, and owns their first-bom sway ! GoLDSMnn. The Kellys were led, by Louisa, to expect a visit from the ladies at Lis- towel Park, but as their coming was uticertain, no preparation was made. The carriage drew up, and Mr. Kelly handed out Lady Elizabeth; Mrs. Bel- mont, Listowel, Edward, and Villars followed. They had taken a long drive, a^d arrived just as Louisa had de- spaired of their coming. The worthy couple gave them a most 130 CAPRICE. hospitable reception; and there was such an air of frankness and cordiality in their manner, without the least pre- tension, that Lady Elizabeth was irre- sistibly prepossessed in their favour, and accepted their invitation to tea. Mrs. Belmont was delighted to see Mrs. Kelly, with whom she immediately en- tered on, to them, a most interesting- topic, and poured into her delighted ears a full account of the success with which she had tried the various receipts Mrs. Kelly had given her. Both Edward and Mr. Villars were disappointed at Louisa's being sa occu- pied as to preclude all possibility of conversation. She prepared the fruity and presided at the tea table. The gen- tlemen were struck by the gracefulness and ease of her motions. Listowel gazed in silent wonder : — ' Where,' thought he, ' could she have acquired such dignity of manners! She has no model ;-~therefore it. must, be the ema- CAPRICE. i^i flation of a well regulated mind!' He Ipnged to fold her to his heart, and ae-> knowledge her as his child; judging, n^ one who saw her could reproach him with the eccentricity of his conduct. — Even Lady Elizabeth would, in the happiness of calling her daughter, for- give him. He considered she was now only seventeen, and at that earty period could not have attained suffi- cient firmness of character to steer her course through the stormy ocean of lifeJ^ These reflections were interrupted by Mrs. Belmont's remarking — " What a tidi/ yoioig body miss was !" Lady Elizabeth, who was a great ad- mirer of feminine beauty and elegance of manners, looked at Louisa now for the first time ; and gratified Mrs. Kelly highly, by exclaiming, in an under voice — *' She is very pretty!" and tlien added — *' She is the very image of my daughter Mary I Mr. -Listowel, do y oil not see the likeness?" -• c,^^ 132 CAPRICE. He replied in a hurried tone, that he could not see it, further than that they had both delicate features. This was the first time since his en- trance that Louisa had heard him spealu —She knew his voice.— A blush of sur- prise brightened her cheeks ; and plea- sure sparkled in her eyes as she looked towards him. He bowed. ** I presume, madam, you are the young lady who fled at my pre- sence from Listowel Park ?" The circumstance was explained to Lady Elizabeth, who said, she was re- joiced to hear Miss Kelly was so fond of Listowel Park, and hoped she would indulge her with her company. *' We shall want you very much this evening to make up our dance : will you allow me, Mrs. Kelly, to run away with her ? And if you and Mr. Kelly will give us the pleasure of your company to-morrow at dinner, she can return with you at night." CAPRICE. 133 Louisa looked anxiously towards Mr. Kelly; but said nothing. He promised to dine with them ; but added, he did not think it possible the ladies could have the honour of waiting on her. " It would be entirely out of my power," said Mrs. Kelly ; ** but for the child, I do not see why she should not have the diversion. It is natural at her age to love it ; and I warrant she would be as gay as a lark among them !" Mr. Kelly looked grave: — ** I do not doubt my Louisa's enjoyment of the com- pany she would meet there ; but consider, my dear, how dull this place would af- terwards appear; and you know," added he in a low voice, " it was her father's particular wish she should be trained in retirement : besides, could our child ap- pear in those mean habiliments among such fine people ?" Listowel reminded Lady Elizabeth that it was late, and offered to order T34»' CAPRICE. the carriage. He added in a whisper, — '^ You only distress these good people. Frg^y press them no further." His anxiety made him forget all cau- tion, for he well knew opposition, mote particularly his opposition, ever mad^ her more determined. V As soon as he, was gone. Lady Eliza- l^eth took Louisa by the hand. — '' Your coming, my dear Miss Kelly, will con- fer a favour on me. As my company will for this week be mostly engaged on boating-parties, your society would much enliven us. I promise you," said she, addressing Mrs. Kelly, '' to have her under my own eye — and as to her dxess — I think, my dear, you look charm- ingly; but leave that to my care. I hope you wish to come ?" Of that her ladyship could have little doubt when she looked at the pleased and grateful expression of her coun- tenance; she therefore renewed her'en- tireaiies to Mr. Kelly, readily obviatiiiof CAPRTCE. 13^ every objection he could make, until, at length, he was obliged to yield. Louisa's beseeching looks, likewise, in- fluenced him. She was sent to pre- pare her clothes : this was soon done ; and she was in the parlour when Mr. Listowel returned to say the carriage was ready. Lady Elizabeth, with a triumphant glance, told him they were to bear off their prize, and reproached him for not having said one civil word to Miss Kelly yet. *' Oh ! I leave such affairs to you ; Miss Kelly must know I shall be very happy to have her for our guest !" They found the drawing-room on their return, as usual, brilliantly lighted. Mrs. Belmont went to her netting, and Lady Elizabeth walked up and down the room with Louisa, who never looked more lovely. The dark brown of her coarse stuff, set off the alabaster whiteness of her neck, her black glossy l|aij? was. combed up smooth behind, and 136 CAPRICE. a profusion of natural ringlets graced her polished forehead; her complexion M^as heightened by blushes at being presented to so many strangers, Lady Wilmot, and some of the party having just returned. They were all curious to know who Louisa was, and where she came from. Mrs. Belmont asked her daughters if they did not remember the little girl they were so fond of when at the Glebe : they immediately recognised her in that lovely, interesting young woman, as likewise did their brothers : the latter she had not seen for two years, her dislike of them consequently was lessened, yet she instinctively drew nearer to Lady Elizabeth, vainly think- ing her presence would awe them into silence. At length their gallant speeches caught her ladyship's ear, and seeing her pro- tege very much annoyed by their non- sense, begged they would in mercy CAPRICE. 137 desist; as this was Miss Kelly's first debut in fashionable society. " Do not suppose our acquaintance commences here. I assure your lady- ship," replied Mr. Robert Belmont, ** she was very near accusing me of mal-practices. Had not Talbot sprung forward with the alertness of a Mer- cury, and transformed himself into a duck, and dived after her, I should at this moment have her ghost haunting me with reproaches for my ill-timed jokes !" *' You are quite a riddle ; the compre- hending you would take too much time. Tell me, my love, what does he mean ?'* Louisa then related how Talbot had saved her from drowning: adding — *'If he had failed, he must have shared my fate." " Where were you ?" inquired Lady Elizabeth, turning to Robert Belmont, " all this time ?" ** I was waiting the event on the Ir36f CAPaiCE^* bank; and was so shocked that I had not even presence of mind to throw them a rope. Have you," said he, turning to Louisa, ** seen Talbot since?. —He is a fine dashing fellow now ! — I. am curious to see if he will remember you : he will be here presently." . ** Indeed !" exclaimed Louisa, blush- ing deeply; *' I thought he had been in. England." " Then you have seen him ; and youK hjeart has learned to flutter at the ap- proach of its favourite beau. Poor little dear !: — do not let it beat for Talbot ! Lord Ellismore has selected a bride for him, who is as inferior to you in pey^" sonal charms, as you are to her in riches. She is heiress to one hundred ^ousand pounds — the sum total of all her charms !" • ^^ ^ Louisa sighed deeply : " Poor Mr. Talbot !-^is this really possible ? And eaan his father allow his eldest son to sacri- ftoe himself to one so disagreeable ?" CAPRICE. 139 " Every one has his price !" returned Belmont ; *' you must acknowledge he has sold himself nobly. But you look pale ! Where are the roses that bloomed so lately at my bidding ? The lilies, 1 think, have usurped their place !" CHAPTER XII. *' Within 'twas brilliant all and light, A thronging scene of figures bright ; It glow'd on Ellen's dazzled sight. As when the setting sun has given Ten thousand hues to Summer even. And, from their tissue, fancy frames Aerial knights and fairy dames." There was a bustle in the hall, occa- sioned by the arrival of Mary and her party. They had set out with Lady Wilmot, who was returned at least an hour. Lady Elizabeth had suffered much anxiety from their delay, and even Listowel would have been un- happy, were not Stockdale and Talbot in their escort. Her ladyship, with Louisa, hastened to meet them. They were detained by the breaking of a spring, and obliged to stop whilst CAPRICE. 141 it was tying up. Mary gave a ludi- crous account of their adventures, of which they were all so full, that they did not, for some minutes, observe Louisa, who was rejoiced at remain- ing for a little time in the back ground : it gave her time to recover her self-pos- session, to conquer her mauvaise-hojUe, and receive even Talbot with compo- sure. He was the first to perceive her. *'Good Heav^ens!" exclaimed he, ** Is it possible ! Do I see Miss Kelly ? *' You do indeed !" said she, holding out her hand to him. ** I hope, after so long an absence, you do not forget me?" *'It however requires some memory, you are grown so much. I do not ask how you do; but I hope your excellent parents are in health?" ^'They are! they will be delighted to see you l" Lady Elizabeth now took her by the hand to present her to her daugh- ter, who was astonished, and wondered 142 CAPRICE. where her mother could have found such a lovely young person; and, as she had not a particle of envy in her composition, was happy at having such an acquisition to their party. After some conversation she led her to the dancing-room. Talbot engaged Louisa as his partner just as Edward came to claim her ; he therefore engaged her for the next set. . Louisa looked very much distressed, and tried to draw back. ". You know," at length she said, '' I cannot dance, and never learned, excepting the lessons I received from you and the Miss Morneys." *' Never fear ! trust to me, I will bring you through the mazes of the figure." . She stood up in the set, making but sad work of the first dance, not a little confused by every one setting her right. Mary considerately repeating the same figure in the next dance, she was/soon •CAPRICE. 145 perfect. The music, the dancing, and the novelty of the scene raised her spirits. Talbot led her to a seat at the lower end of the room ; she entered into lively conversation : her innocent mind felt no care, no drawback; but was given up to the pleasure of the ma- ■ment. Listowel watched her from a distance in speechless anxiety ; from her first entrance into the ball-room she en- grossed his entire attention ; anxious to ascertain the bias of her mind, to discover if she too were tinctured with that fatal vanity, so destructive to his happiness, and enfeebling to the cha- racter of his wife. He was therefore in despair when he saw that even Mary, with her wild spirits, could not be more caught with the gaiety of the moment : * nature will '"breakout,' thought he, ' and surely this ^irl mnst have a double portion of folly, or else her excellent foster-parents* pre- 144 CAPRICE. cepts would have taught her more pru- dence than to be thus perfectly at her ease, and unreserved with a stranger, Alas ! vanity is inherent in her nature ; for what have I banished her from home, but to catch this confounded Kerry brogue !' Louisa, at length, observed his ear- nest, and almost angry gaze. It at once dispelled the charm, and broke the fairy spell of her happiness. Her smiles vanished, she was silent and growing pale. Talbot remarked her change of colour, and fearing she found the heat oppressive, urged her to come into the refreshment-room. She re- fused, as she thought Mr. Listowel looked as if he wished to speak to her. Talbot went to bring her a glass of wine and water. Listowel then approached. **I perceive, madam," said he, ''you enjoy the pleasure of this evening vastly," CAPRICE. 145 *' I did so," replied she, colouring aad looking down, " a few minutes ago." **What!" returned he, looking very sternly; *' can you not be happy a mo- ment without that gentleman at your elbow? But I give you credit for the honesty of the confession." She looked very much shocked. — .*' You mistake me !" replied she, timidly, looking at him through her long eye- lashes, humid with tears ; *' you were the cause of miy change of feeling ; you looked displeased at me, and I feared I had unknowingly incurred your cen- sure. I hope you will consider what a novice I am in society — that I know none of its rules. — Pray, dear sir! tell me what breach of good manners I have been guilty of, that I may in future be more careful." Listowel felt softened, and said, smil- ing — ** I find the little mountain-girl can teach the man of the world. I must VOL. I. H 146 CAPRICE. indeed beg your pardon for not disguis- ing my feelings better." *' I do not like disguise, if it were iiecessary," returned she, smiling ; " you were doubtless wrong : that is at least the criterion of conduct my father has set me." " That rule may answer in soli- tude," returned her father; '* but not in crowds : — for instance, my feelings were just, but good breeding some- times renders disguise necessary." '* I think I know what my father would say on that subject. But I am so anxious to hear my offence, before Mr. Talbot returns, that I will not at present give you his most excellent precept." " You do not choose then I should point out your faults before Mr. Tal- bot?" said Listowel. " I fear," said she, smiling, ** that proves my pride of heart. He is my best friend ; and would, if he saw my error, be my monitor!" CAPRICE. 147 ** You knew him then before this evening?" inquired Listowel. '* Oh, yes ! He is my earliest friend, and saved me from a dreadful death !'* She then related, with great animation, the anecdote of the mill-stream. He thanked her when she had done. — '* You make me ashamed of myself," replied he; ** I judged you too hastily.'* ** In what ?" asked she, eagerly. ** What did you suppose I had done?" '' I suppose you have heard that you are the very image of my daugh- ter Mary ?" *' I have been so flattered." ** Well, listen to my apology. I was comparing your manners and disposi- tions ; — her only fault is uncontrolable vivacity, a heedlessness in doing what she wishes ; too easy of access, which, with men, gives her the appearance of coquetting. These are all great faults ; — great defects in her nature; which still her education has tended to in- 148 CAPRICE. crease ; they have grown with her growth, and strengthened with her strength : but you, Miss Kelly, have been educated under happier auspices — listening to the voice of instruction from your first youth, divine precepts should be ingrafted in your heart, and show their results in all your actions : in- stead of which, I saw you unrestrained by the novelty of your situation, de- voted as wholly as my poor Mary to the mirth of the moment; and treat- ing one I thought a stranger, with the familiarity of an old acquaintance. Will you forgive my harsh surmises ?" ** I do indeed, and hope to profit by your sincerity. I am too volatile, too giddy; every thing here charmed mCj^and appeared like a fairy scene : — the gran- deur and beauty of the ladies and gentle- men reminded me of the Arabian tales ; — these brilliant lights and magnificent apartments ol a fairy palace, belonging to a benevolent fairy, called by us mor- CAPRICE. 149 tals, Lady Elizabeth ! — You appeared like a severe genius, that was to banish me the haunts of pleasure. — Pray par- don me — is not your reproof," said she, timidly, '* rigorous ?— and would you not doom me to a fate similar to that of poor Tantalus, to see all and enjoy nothing? — Here is Mr. Talbot returning, he is, like you, versed in courts, and shall judge for me." *' Is this discretion to place your conduct in a young man's keeping ?" Louisa looked at liim earnestly. — ''You are not old!" ** I see we men cannot argue with young girls !" She laughed, and then said with a more serious air — '* Do not say so ; I will be on my guard not to transgress again." Talbot returned, making many apo- logies for his long absence. Edward now joined them, and claimed her hand for the next two dances; he had been iOU CAPRICE. standing aloof, watching the earnest con- versation she held with his father, of which he did not overhear a word. His mind was tortured with doubt and anxiety, so that there was no danger, with such a partner, of Louisa's being too lively. CHAPTER XIII. *' E'en had you seen, bathed in the morning dew, The budding rose its infant bloom display ; When first its verdant tints unfold to view, It shiinks, and scaicely trusts the blaze of day." ■So soft, so delicate, so sweet, she came Youth's damask glow just dawning on her cheek. Goldsmith. Louisa did not awake the next morn- ing, until Judy (Mrs. Kelly's maid), burst into the room, with a large bun- dle, which she flung down. — '* So, Miss Lowsyl a pretty time in the day for you to lie soaking ! Get up ! and see what your good mother has sent you : — as fine a suit of clothes as ever my two eyes did see ! and indeed I never setd the like, except with the players last Spring-tide. — Oh, dear !" exclaimed she, ^^2 CAPRICE. opening the parcel, and holding up the gown, *' how it rustles and shines !" '' What am I to do, Judy, with such old-fashioned clothes ?— Does my dear mother think I can wear them ?" '' Here's a bit of a note I put in my bosom ; it will tell you all." It ran thus : — " My Dear Child, " I fear your brown stuff will look '' very shabby among all the fine peo- " pie. I send you therefore the newest- ^^^' fashioned finery I have; which was '' given me on my marriage by my good *' friend. Lady Evelina Murray, about " thirty years ago. I am aware the '' fashions must have changed often since '' then; but they say, the old fashions '' come round again, and if so, the things '' I send you may be of service. Judy '' will assist you in shortening the '' waist of the flowered silk ; there is ^'not a brack in it, and although CAPRICE, 153 *' SO long in my possession, is spic and " span new ; for it has been, since I *' was a bride, folded up in lavender. *' However, you had better, my dear *' child, consult Lady Elizabeth's maid ** before you appear at the breakfast- " table. My good man will meet you ** at dinner. I almost envy him; and *' now that you are away from me, " wish, for your sake, to turn visitor. " God bless you, my child ! '' Your affectionate '* F. Kelly." Louisa pressed the paper to her lips. ** Good mother, I thank you ! Let me see ; oh ! what a fine flowered silk ! it will stand on end ; how should I look in it r " For all the world, Miss, like the queen in the play. Bless your heart ! look at the taper waist, and the nice shaped elbows, and the long ruffles ; how quarc you will look !" 154 CAPRICE, ** It is impossible for me to wear them. Heigh ho ! — ray brown stuff is not so ridiculous, as it is more suitable : they have seen it already, and they know I am not entitled to any better." ** I think you are entitled to the best in the world, for a charming, sweet young lady ! as I tells Patrick you are." '' Patrick Brian!" exclaimed Louisa; '' is he come back? I thought he had listed as a soldier ?'* *' So he did, the cratnre ! God help him ! — he would have been beyond the seas now, but for poor Harry Talbot! I believe I never gave the history of my venture; diB you were, on my return, at Parson Morney's. Well; here is the short and the long of it. Poor Patrick, when I would not be said by him, went and listed, and sent me home all the bounty, with a bit of a note, saying» mayhap I would like the money with- out him ; although I would not have him without the money. Well, sure enough. CAPRICE^ 155 I took on sadly, and would not spake to father or mother; but was nigh kilt with the impression on my heart. So, with- out saying a word to mortal, one morn- ing I put on my best, and never rested until Fse came to Tralee, where Patrick was with the army. — ^^I axed to see his captain: — his varlet of a wallet-de-sham said he was at breakfast, and that I might go tramp about my business! Says I, my business is of too much consequence; I see him there in the parlour; let me just say two words to him ! * Upon my honour you shan't !' said he, spreading his arms, and holding them up as high as if he feared I would make a spring over. No ? my gentle- man, says I ; and like an eel I twisted under them. We had a sort of tussle, and he was near proving a match for me ; v/hen out came the captain him- self — who should after him, but our Harry Talbot ! I screamed with joy ! Ah, Judy ! says I, you have found 156 CAPRICE. a friend; all will go well! — 'Judy!' says the walkt'de-sham — ' learn your distance, and do not call our captain names!' I laughed, and said, It's my- self I mean ; I hope no offence ! — * None in life !' says he ; * and whatever your name be, you are as handsome a wench as everl seed /' ' Let her go, John,' says the captain, ' until she tells me her business : you should never refuse such a handsome woman access to me!' On which I walks up to him, and going on my two knees, I kissed the fringe of his sash, and puts the money Patrick sent me into his hand, with two golden gui- neas more." ** They must have thought you mad!*' *' You shall hear.—' What's all this for?' asked he. God bless your ho- nour ! it's for Patrick's liberty ; he is as likely a youth as ever you see ; but he went mad for the love of me ! and then, when his simes were gone, he did the foolishest thing in the varsal world — de- CAPRICE. 157 serted his old father and mother, and went forsooth a sodgering ! But what call can your honour, or the king have to him now, when he has lost his sinsesV '' Did the poor man really go mad ?" inquired Louisa. '* Mad, indeed ! But to make my long story short," continued Judy, ** they made great divarsion at my say- ing Pat was mad ; and seemed to think me mighty cute ; and they said I was a beautiful crature — that was their word ; and that I might pass for a lady any day, with that proud toss of my head, which was mighty quality-like ! That was when I hit the wallet a slap in the face for squeezing my hand." "You tell me only of the compliments paid you. — What did Talbot say all this time ?" inquired Louisa. " Say! — every thing in life ! — that I might set my heart at rest, and not be crying my apron full ! for that he would, if not unpossible, procure him his liberty ! 158 .CAPRICE. And so he did ! God bless his honour ! and has taken him to be his own wallet- de-sham. Says I to him, last night — I will marry you, Patrick Brian, when your master gets a wife for me to wait upon. — 'Ah! then/ says he; 'but I never tell secrets, Mrs. Judy;* and he lets it all out ; and why should'nt he to his own sweet-heart ?" ''What did he tell you?" inquired Louisa. "Oh, Miss! it would make your two eyes dance if you heard it ; but I knows ^ how to hold my tongue ; and that is : more than Pat does !" - "You are right, Judy ; it was wrong of me to ask." " Oh ! then, if you knew but all!" said ; Judith ; *' its you that should be manner* — But his vanity — I should say his villainy — shall be chastised 1" He continued, after a pause — ** We must now lecture poor Mary ! Be on the watch, and when we leave her room hasten to her, for I fear we must be harsh. If possible, make her more rea- sonable, and tell her how derogatory this passion is to her." He then left her, and Louisa remained in the study : she took up a book, and sat down in the recess of the window. She had not been reading long, when Talbot and Edward came in together. Edward said — '' Here, Talbot, is pen, ink, and paper; you may write your letters undisturbed ; I will only take my gun, and then leave you." Talbot was seated with his back to the door of the adjoining room, which stood open. Louisa hoped to retire in there, unperceived by him : she was waiting for Edward to go, who, she supposed, would not stay a moment. CAPRICE. 267 He took down his gun, prepared to charge it, and then apparently con- tinued a conversation. '* Now, as I was saying, I have not a doubt, from what you tell me of my father's unhappiness, at my earnest conversation, and our own remarks, I have not a doubt on my mind; — she is certainly my sister !" " Villars, you say, had the same sus- picion ; and from every thing we can gather, I think," returned Talbot, ** it most probable. Robert Belmont near- ly told me so, just as he was stepping into his curricle for Rumbold Castle, looking very knowing, and hinted he was master of all the particulars. — Yet I would not place perfect reliance on his word ; and when I consider her age, — she does not appear older than Miss Listowel ; — your father a moral, religi- ous man. We can form no surmise from her likeness to him, since she strongly resembles your mother." 268 CAPuiCE. Poor Louisa was all this time in an agony. She instantly believed their supposition true : — the emotion Listowel frequently betrayed when conversing with her ; and which he evidently en- deavoured to suppress — all, all, fully brought the conviction to her breast, that she was indeed his child, — Edward her brother! Her delicate and pious mind recoiled with horror from such an idea'; — all her airy dreams of being ac- knowledged by her parents, fled ;-— of finding them guiltless, — although per- haps, from untoward circumstances, not countenanced by their friends, un- til time should prove their innocence. She gave a heavy sigh, and feeling most dreadfully oppressed, wished to escape into the other room ; as she considered remaining where she was highly im- proper ; and equally so discovering to them that she had overheard their con- versation. It would be so like claiming their pity, taking them unawares, and CAPRICE. 269 not allowing them time to consult pru- dence in their conduct towards her. She therefore lost no time, lest they should change their position, and rising softly, glided in through the open door to the adjoining room. Their backs were still towards her, and they were engaged in such earnest conversation that they did not perceive her. Louisa found she did not gain much by her change of situation; for although seated at the farthest end of the room, she could hear every word they said. Edward was telling Talbot what a fancy his mother had taken to Louisa. It was more than probable she might accompany them to Dublin : — at least his mother had proposed it, but his father would not hear of it, and had positively refused his consent. — What could be his motive ! Had he confessed to his mother who she was ? — Who could her mother be! — Such a lovely 270 CAPRICE. scion could not have sprung from a low and vulgar branch ! Talbot replied — *' Our conjectures on this topic, my dear friend, must be idle, while the lips of those that can inform us are sealed. — However, my mind is made up :■ — this lovely wild flower must be mine! — transplanted into our house she will flourish, and be its chief orna- ment. If your family allow me to say she is one of yours — to claim her even as a distant relation will satisfy the public — and minute inquiry will be easily ward- ed off": — besides, her strong resemblance to your family will prevent its ever being doubted." " I cannot tell you, my dear Talbot, how happy you make me ! I will speak to my father openly : tell him my sus- picions ; and join with him, as soon as I am of age, in giving her as good a fortune as Mary." '^ Generous Edward ! I do not de- sire a fortune. — She has long been the CAPRICE. 271 first object of my affections; and but for the unpleasant manner in which 1 am situated with my father, I should before now have made my sentiments known. Poor Louisa! how unfortunate she was this morning ! — and miserable to find some clue by which she could dis- cover her parents !" " The dear girl ! I long to acknow- ledge her — to make myself an interest in her affectionate heart. — She will, I feel, be my dearest sister ! — Mary is too lively and volatile for every-day life." ** Then you do not think her peace of mind much endangered by her pas- sion for Villars ?" inquired Talbot. ** Hark ! do you hear my mother's bell ring a peal ? There seems to be great commotion !" Mrs. Tippet now burst into the room, — ** Oh ! Mr. Edward ! come to your sister, she is in the sturrucks ! — a dozen cannot manage her ! I must run for hartshorn and water! For the love of 272 CAPRICE. Heaven hasten to her ! She is in her boudoir !" Talbot offered his services, but Ed- ward was unwilling his sister should be seen in that state, and therefore begged he would remain and finish his letter. Poor Louisa felt herself all this time a complete prisoner — but not an un- happy one : for although she consi- dered her situation as very forlorn, and was dreadfully shocked at the odium cast on her birth, yet her mind felt soothed when she found the two she most approved of were so warmly in- terested for her ; and wondered at her- self how she could feel so elated, when determined not to profit by Tal- bot's love, or Edward's generosity. Her mind felt in a chaos , she was trying to arrange her ideas, when Talbot, having finished his letter, came into the room to seek a book he had left that morning on the sofa. He was surprised and overjoyed when CAPRICE. 273 he found Louisa there. — "Oh!" ex- claimed he, "how fortunate! I have been these last ten minutqs planning how I should see you, as I have much to communicate." He seated himself by her on the sofa, dreading from the extreme flutter of her spirits, that she had overheard his conversation with Edward: however, he made no comment, and she requested he would proceed, lest they should be interrupted. " About two hours ago I walked to- wards the lake. Mr. Listowel and Mr. Kelly were standing near the boat, in deep conversation ; and, from a few words that met my ear, I advanced, finding you were their subject. Mr. Kelly was sound- ing your praises ; and observed, that he feared the taste you were now acquiring for company would hereafter be to you a source of unhappiness. On seeing me he was desirous of dropping the conversation. Mr. Listowel continued 274 CAPRICE. it, entering warmly into your praise. Observing that I was silent, he accused me of want of discernment. I vindi- cated myself, by appealing to Mr. Kelly, who, I said, knew me to be one of your earliest friends — that I had your interest warmly at heart. — At present, I said, my chief anxiety was to find out who your parents were. — Mr. Kelly started; Mr. Listowel coloured like scarlet— I never in my life saw men more confused ! I continued, and observed, the obscurity that was thrown on your birth, I saw made you very unhappy." ** What did they reply? Did my father look very angry ?" exclaimed Louisa; who had been listening with almost breath- less attention, and now for the first time interrupted him. '' I then addressed myself to Mr. Kelly ; and said, I supposed he could give some information on the subject, as surely he must know. He very pro- perly called me to order; said I was CAPRICE. 275 too abrupt, and that, on a subject on which he had given you so little in- formation, asked what reason I had for supposing that he should be more com- municative with me. ** I acknowledged my error, and said, my long attachment for you must plead my apology : that you had refused any answer to my offer of marriage until you had discovered who were your parents. — Both the gentlemen appeared highly gratified ; but at the same time Mr. Kelly approved of your determina- tion : and said — It was correct, it was noble! — that your principles were strict, and that you always had acted up to them. ** Mr. Listowel said, in the present case he conceived you were stretching the point too far ; and he hoped you would not, like a heroine of romance, act on a delicacy, on a refined feeling, as if it were a principle. — * She knows/ continued he, ' that her parents are 276 CAPRICE. my friends, and that I would not allow her to form any alliance displeasing to them. I told her all this, and likewise that 1 know nothing would give them so much pleasure as her being married to Talbot.' '' I replied, that he misunderstood you. — That it was not on your own ac- count you hesitated ; but from the mys- tery attending your birth, you feared the alliance would reflect on me no honour, and perhaps disunite me for ever from my family — from my father !" ''Mr. Listowel looked agitated, and provoked ; he mused awhile, and then ob- served—' Louisa has none of the thought- less giddiness of youth. — She deserves to be told every thing — but — at pre- sent it cannot be. — I can only tell her, on the word of a gentleman, that she is, in point of birth and family, a match fit for any nobleman in the kingdom! — Her fortune may depend on circum- stances ; but she certainly will have CAPRICE 277 some. Tell her this from me ; and that you are the man, of all others that I know, her parents are ambitious of giv- ing her to : and,' said he, shaking me warmly by the hand, ' you are just the kind of man a father, anxious for his daughter's happiness, would entrust her to.' — Since such, my dear Louisa! is the opinion of the declared friend of your parents, you can surely refuse me no longer : opposition now, on your part, would be the height of fastidious- ness." Louisa smiled. — '' Ah, what deceivers you men are! and yet, I should not reproach you ; for my own feelings likewise deceive me. I feel very happy, although you have such bitter, such ter- rible intellio'ence in store for me !" ''What intelligence? I have already related all ; and surely you may now, my lovely Louisa! compose your mind» Give up the pursuit of your family, and in future look on mine as yours." 278 CAPRICE. '* Dear Mr. Talbot! J cannot be deceived !" She then related to him all she had overheard ; her reasons for believing their suppositions true ; and the horror she felt on believing herself illegitimate. — She would now, she said, make no further effort to discover the authors of her being, as she could only be a reproach to them, and perhaps destroy the peace of their families. Talbot now pleaded his own cause. He represented to her, that Mr. Lis- towel's approbation of him should have great weight with her, even supposing their present surmises unfounded ; as he was, at all events, the friend of her father, and had almost declared himself autho- rized to sanction the match ; and that, by accepting him, she would gratify all her friends. *' Generous Talbot !" exclaimed Lou- isa : *' can you for me make so many sacrifices ? — Should I consent, will not vpur father — your family, have cause to CAPRICE. 279 reproach me? — Even you yourself, when the present feelings excited by my un- happiness are abated, would, in secret, think I had acted without generosity, seeking my own happiness, and paying no regard to your interest !" '' Do not, my own Louisa! say so; your interest is my interest. My notions of marriage are perhaps peculiar. You are the only person in existence with whom I can connect myself in holy wedlock! — If you refuse me, I will give up the milder duties of civil life to my brother, and join the army on the Conti- nent : therefore, my beloved ! do not rashly deprive me of all hope." *' Surely you are not," replied Louisa, mildly, '' so unsteady of principle ! — No conduct of mine could bias your notions of right and wrong, or make you forsake the duties you were born to fulfil ! This is a manoeuvre," said she, smiling, ** to convince me there is a necessity for my turning aside from the strict path of duty." 280 CAPRICE. '* No, my friend ! for I think I never met so much strength of mind in one so young, blended with so much softness and modesty. Let me, however, believe those timid eyes are averted with soft- ness more than dislike. Look at me, my friend ! — believe, and trust in the steadiness of my aifection for you, wliich can only cease with my existence ! — But, if the firmness I admire in your character should degenerate into obsti- nacy, do not suppose I will spend my life in idle repinings ! — No ; my walk in life will only be changed — my talents, my services, shall still be devoted to my country. My brother shall be the statesman, shall reside on our property, and eventually his children shall inherit it ; whilst I will join the banners of my country, and answer glory's call ! Therefore, do not, my friend, for a mere punctilio, doom me to banishment !" *' What am I to think!" she said. '' Can I decide ? — I believe I am too interested a person to have my judg- CAPlilCE. 281 ment unbiassed. I will refer you to my father — my more than father! — he must in this point direct me ; — and should he tell me that I may aspire to you, and that I shall not debase you, I will then try to flatter myself that I am not so contemptible ; and think, that being so regarded by you, I may catch some rays of your glory ; and shine, at least like the moon, with borrowed lustre." Talbot smiled. *' This must content me. I do not wish to hurry you; but, as I am obliged to leave this early to- morrow, can you not give me an answer before then ?" " Yes, if I am allowed to return this evening," answered Louisa. Edward now sought Talbot in the study ; and not finding him there, passed on to the inside room too suddenly for his friend to prevent it. He however met him near the door, that Louisa might escape unobserved. Edward was not 282 CAPRICE. immediately sensible of her presence ; his face was red, and heated with pas- sion ; haughty indignation was expressed in every line of his fine countenance. '' Fine doings ! Would you believe it ? there is Mary above stairs dying, be- cause, forsooth, she will not be allowed to marry that r«.yc^/ Villars ! — Both father and mother are worked upon by her. I believe if he were present they would beg of him to save their darling. When I went up I found her in strong hys- terics, occasioned by the obduracy of papa and mamma ; who, although Miss went on her knees to them, and vowed celibacy if they did not consent to her marrying the man of her choice — still, notwithstanding the magnitude of the threat, continued firm ; and said, they would sooner follow her to her grave than allow her to form so unequal a union ! But, when they saw the state their refusal threw her into, they both relented, and accused each other of CAPRICE. 283 harshness, and of having destroyed their darling! They wondered at such a giddy thoughtless girl preferring a man so much older than herself; acknow- ledged that they always had the highest opinion of Villars; and if it could be proved that he had not acted dishonour- ably, by endeavouring in any underhand manner to seduce her affections, that, if all this could be made evident, they might, after a time, if she continued con- stant, consent to the match. They agreed that, as far as they knew of him, he was highly respectable, and that they might as well give their consent, and make their poor child happy. Did you ever hear the like ? — a girl of my sister's pretensions, to give her to a nobody 1 But it never shall be; Villars must first settle with me." ''Oh! what do you say?" exclaimed Louisa : ** surely your intentions are not as violent as your words ?" *' Dearest Louisa! are you there? I 284 CAPRICE. should not terrify you by my impatience. Has Talbot told you all ? Do you know that you are my sister ? Come, embrace me ; I will ever hold you very dear !" " How fortunate I am in finding such a friend !" said poor Louisa ; her coun- tenance at the moment expressing the deepest sorrow. She could not, almost without shuddering, hear herself thus claimed as an illegitimate relation. Edward continued : — *' In giving you to Talbot I shall have my first wish. I have ever loved him as a brother, and looked up to him as an eld4er one. You had better now go to Mary, and leave us to arrange plans for your happiness. Mary is still in her dressing-room : if possible, induce her to give up this foolish whim." She then left them, hoping Talbot would moderate Edward's wrath. She found Mary lying on the couch in a gen- tle slumber ; her cheeks red and swelled, still wet with tears, looking like a spoiled CAPRICE. 285 child that had cried herself to sleep. Lady Elizabeth was seated beside her, the picture of despair. She smiled on seeing Louisa ; and giving her a seat by her, said in a low voice — ** She is now asleep : I may venture to tell you all that has passed." Louisa was in amaze how any young female could, in that open manner, avow attachment for one who never sought her favour. Lady Elizabeth then left Mary in her friend's charge, requesting she w^ould watch by her ; and if she saw any change, or apprehended the least danger of the fit returning, begged she would ring the bell, and send her word. Mary continued to sleep very quietly until Lady Elizabeth's return, who came, when dinner was nearly ready, for Lou- isa ; but, at Mary's earnest request gave them permission to dine together. She hoped her company might restore her daughter's cheerfulness ; who, she was sorry to see, still continued sullen. 2S6 CAPRICE, Louisa remained with her the whole of the evening; by which she lost all op- portunity of seeing Talbot that evening, and feared she should not see him again before his departure for Dublin. EXD OF VOL. 1. Howlett and Brimmer, Printers, 10, Frith Street, Soho. A ,^^IVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 1 :^^j-»- ^ 3 0112 041665685 / I Jf r* v< #^n^^