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OCTAVIA ELPHINSTONE. 
 
 A MANX STORY. 
 
 AND 
 
 LOIS, A DRAMA 
 
 BY MISS ANNE TALLANT. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET. 
 
 1835. 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
 
 in 2010 witii funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/octaviaelphinsto01tall 
 
' 'IT 
 
 r 
 
 OCTAVIA ELPHINSTONE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE PET. 
 
 I'll have a doll of porphyry, with diamonds in her curls ; 
 
 ^ A rocking horse of ivoTy, a skipping rope of pearls ; 
 "I 
 ^xl'll have a painted paper kite, with banker's notes for wings, 
 
 "^ A golden fiddle to play at night, with silver wire for strings, 
 
 V 
 
 TV OoTAviA Elphinstone was a spoiled child, who 
 "J^ was left in her infancy by her father, an 
 • officer in the army, to the care of Mrs. Man- 
 ^ ners, " the principal" of " an establishment for 
 young ladies'' at Twickenham. Octavia was 
 
 VOL. I B 
 
 4 
 
THE PET. 
 
 at first the plaything, then the ornament, and 
 always the favourite of the school. She was 
 gifted with a lively, fearless disposition ; in her 
 actual infancy she had been indulged in every 
 changeful caprice. Seven sweet children had 
 been consigned to early rest by Mrs. Elphin- 
 stone, from whom they inherited delicacy of 
 constitution : hope, however, whispered that in 
 this child, to whom she gave a name at once 
 Roman and romantic, she should be rewarded 
 for her previous trials ; but ere the leaves of 
 intelligence had opened in her bud of promise, 
 Mrs. Elphinstone was herself suddenly re- 
 moved from the world. It was partly on that 
 account, and partly because he knew that he 
 should soon be bereft of her infant smiles, that 
 Major Elphinstone weakly, but naturally, (is 
 not all weakness nature ?) could not bear her 
 to suffer the slightest contradiction. He quit- 
 
THE PET. 
 
 3 
 
 ted England, and took especial care to impress 
 on Mrs. ]Manners*s mind, his anxiety that 
 Octavia might not be thwarted in any thing 
 "' She will be left/' said he, " alone, with scarcely 
 a relation near her at school, with no advantage 
 but plenty ; therefore I must beg, that the only 
 approach to happiness which is open to her 
 may never be denied to her wishes." Mrs. 
 Manners did not think the Major's argument 
 sound, but the pupil came on terms too advan- 
 tageous for her to venture to bandy words on 
 the subject. Octavia did not clearly understand 
 that her papa was going away for good ; he 
 told her he was soingr in a boat over the 
 seas. 
 
 " Yes, on the lake," said she. 
 "No, my darling, a long way off." 
 " As far as heaven, where mamma is ?" asked 
 the child. 
 
 B 2 
 
THE PET. 
 
 The father's feelings were subdued ; he kissed 
 lier tenderly, and in few and broken words 
 lecommended his only child to Mrs. Manners. 
 
 Octavia accompanied a teacher into the 
 dressing-room to have her clothes unpacked ; 
 it was soon crowded with curious little folks, 
 eaffer to see the contents of the numerous 
 trunks ; their treble voices were loud in praise 
 of "lovely frocks," and "sweet hats," and 
 " elegant shoes." The child had so long been 
 used to elegant and costly clothes, that she 
 cared little about them. During the ceremony 
 of unpacking, she knelt down on the floor and 
 amused herself with spinning one of the three 
 sovereigns which papa had given her, — these 
 were new to her, — a little girl came and wished 
 to spin one of the two Octavia had laid aside ; 
 the pet, however, did not choose to allow her ; 
 she fixed her little arm upon them, and forcibly 
 
THE PET, 
 
 held them covered. The scuffle called the 
 attention of the teacher, who was of opinion that 
 they must be given up to her care, " for fear 
 Miss Elphinstone should put them into her 
 mouth." These words suggested an idea 
 which would, probably, never have entered the 
 child's head; — quick as thought they were in 
 her mouth, and choking, as much from passion 
 as from the sovereigns, she sputtered out, " I am 
 to do as I like — papa said so, and I always 
 have done so, and I always will." 
 
 " iVIercy on us," cried the teacher, " what a 
 spirit, and she is only four years old ! Do as 
 you like, indeed ! but I'll speak to Mrs. INJan- 
 ners f and running down stairs, she did not in 
 her extreme haste hear Octavia's light feet 
 after her. Miss Page impatiently stated the 
 case to Mrs. ^Manners, who smiled and said, 
 " Well, well, we must not frighten the child : 
 
6 THE PET. 
 
 her papa did say she was to do as she 
 liked." 
 
 " There r cried Octavia, forcing her way 
 under Miss Page's arm. The lesson was not 
 lost upon her, though she was only four years 
 old. " What one has done one may do," is 
 one of the tunes pricked on the barrel of every 
 child's instinct. 
 
 Though Octavia began her school life with 
 a disagreement, she showed little appearance 
 of a quarrelsome disposition ; indeed, for what 
 could she quarrel ? She had but to speak and 
 to have, to ask and to receive. Her life ought 
 to have been happy, if happiness consist in 
 the fulfilment of wishes; but her life showed 
 that happiness flows rather from a suppression 
 than froai the unrestrained gratification of desires. 
 When first she came to school, her opening 
 penetration discerned that she was an object 
 
THE I'KT. 
 
 of wonder to her playfellows ; she per- 
 ceived that thev had not half the toys, nor 
 ribbons, nor books that she liad, and yet she 
 had but to say, " I should like a nev.- dol],"' 
 and she had it. No wonder that pride was 
 soon fixed in her young mind, — her favours 
 were so cheaply earned and so lavishly bestowed, 
 that it was natural for every one of her com- 
 panions to yield to her cajjrices ; and her smiles 
 were so sunny, and her endearments so charm- 
 ing, that she soon found she could influence 
 both teachers and governess. Here she learnt 
 to despise, — yes, — at five years old she was 
 proud, and was proud to know that she was 
 proud; she had learnt to prevail with different 
 persons by different means, and she despised 
 both the persons and the means. She had, in 
 fact, the consciousness which a great statesman 
 hesitated not to acknowledge, (for the assertion 
 
8 THE PKT. 
 
 was acknowledgment) that " every one has a 
 price." With some she gained her point by 
 violent passion, knowing, that even in her pas- 
 sions they said, " Did you ever see such a little 
 creature, there is no refusing her f and 
 then the sweet caresses she bestowed on those 
 who were honoured with her love, were so 
 valued, that she found they sometimes obtained 
 what tears and frowns, or even promises and 
 trifts, failed to induce ; therefore as a child she 
 learnt to manoeuvre, endeavouring to be all 
 things to all persons. There is less distinc- 
 tion between the spring of a child's actions and 
 those of the perfect man, than is sometimes 
 imagined : alas ! that cunning should be so 
 early a disease in the constitution of the mind! 
 In mere infancy we learn management, and 
 I fear that it is expelled, not so often by a 
 love of candour and truth, as by fear of the 
 
THE PKT. 9 
 
 world's opinion and the estimation of the es- 
 timable ; taking this, however, for a fact would 
 add still more importance to the force of ex- 
 ample, as strengthening the desire for esteem 
 would increase tlie number of the estimable. 
 
 To return to Octavia Elphinstone. Her 
 father, who had retired from the army and 
 lived in the Isle of Man, occasionally came 
 over and had her with him in lodgings in town, 
 but the risk and delay of the voyage ])re- 
 vented his takins: her to the island. On this 
 subject alone Octavia was silent ; it was the 
 only refusal to her wishes. Her discernment 
 quickly showed her that entreaties, poutings, 
 promises, and blandishments would be in vain ; 
 papa seemed resolute, and the young lady had 
 the wit to make a merit of submission, and by 
 acquiescence to obtain certain indulgences which 
 were becoming necessary to her ideas of hajj- 
 
 B 5 
 
10 THE PET. 
 
 piness. As she had in her childhood been al- 
 lowed carte blanche for toys and trifles, so she 
 now, on her entrance into her teens, desired to 
 frequent the theatres, permission to subscribe to 
 balls, concerts, and to a " circulating library." 
 (That word circulating has lately become syno- 
 nymous with romance.) 
 
 At first Mrs. Manners urged that Miss El- 
 phinstone was too young for an introduction to 
 public places; but the Major rather abetted 
 than checked his daughter's wishes in this re- 
 spect : he represented that he lived alone^ and 
 should, for that reason, take her from scliool 
 earlier than girls usually were considered 
 " finished," and therefore it was advisable foi- 
 Octavia to see a little of fashionable life before 
 she finally quitted the roof of her governess. 
 Mrs. Manners yielded — it was her duty to point 
 out his daughter's youth to Major Elphinstone, 
 
THE pi:t. 11 
 
 and she did so ; but it was her pleasure to take 
 her into coni])any. She was indeed a girl to 
 l}e proud of. Her size was of that happy 
 medium wliich cannot be objected to as too tall 
 or too low ; her figure, though slender, was 
 softly rounded, and full of that attractive grace, 
 which can only be expressed by the sweet word, 
 feminine ; this delectable characteristic, too, 
 pervaded her voice, carriage, and complexion, 
 which last was the most lovely I ever beheld, — 
 the least excitement (and Octavia was the crea- 
 ture of impulse) called up the rich glow im- 
 puted to southern females into cheeks so rarely 
 delicate that I despair of giving an idea of their 
 surpassing loveliness. I have always thought 
 the cheek the most disimguishing feature in the 
 l)uman face; some allege that the eye is, and 
 others, again, the mouth ; but these must yield 
 to such a cheek as I have seen, such as Octavia 
 
12 THE PET. 
 
 Elphinstone's. Its exquisite yet distinct con- 
 tour, in which every harshness of colouring and 
 outline seemed melted into beauty, were to me 
 the most decided stamp of gentle birth. No 
 line disturbed its soft loveliness — no abrupt an- 
 gles occurred in its clear outline — the full yet 
 exquisite feature, half shrouded by the nut- 
 brown hair which hung to her neck, presented 
 the fairest type of perfection ; it was so clear, so 
 very clear ! Octavia was beautiful always — 
 beautiful when flushed with eagerness and 
 youthful hopes — still more so in the rarer mo- 
 ments of calm repose. To me, her school com- 
 panion, her person appeared perfect, for to this 
 admirable complexion she joined dark eyes, 
 with the largest pupils I ever remarked, and 
 eyebrows delicately defined. Who, then, could 
 be otherwise than proud of such a creature r 
 and, as achiiiration is the first step to love, need 
 
THE PET. 13 
 
 we wonder that her governess and compa- 
 nions loved her, flattered her, spoiled her ? 
 
 I have endeavoured to describe Miss Elphin- 
 stone's person — her abilities were good, but not 
 largely drawn upon ; her own choice was the 
 sole director of her studies, and unfortunately 
 it seldom impelled her to application ; she ac- 
 quired, nevertheless, by means of a ready wit 
 and retentive memory, the reputation of being ac> 
 complished, and was probably more cordially ad- 
 mired than if she had possessed a greater fund 
 of knowledge, for we have a dread of clever 
 women, and a horror of clever girls. As it was, 
 she was charming — but — she knew it. 
 
 I have said she could be all things to all 
 persons. She chose to be loved, therefore she 
 comported herself so as to ensure love. Her 
 school-mates doated on her ; yet they called her 
 proud, ndschievous, vain, petulant, — and so she 
 
14 THE PET. 
 
 was. It would not have fulfilled her ideas of 
 ambition, if they had loved her being jjerfect^ — 
 she was vain of being loved, in spite of her 
 faults. I have read that, with men, confidence 
 carries rule over every person and thing, and I 
 can believe it. Probably, in hardihood there 
 is something so imposing, that we imagine it a 
 sort of preface to admitted merit. 
 
 The rule of beauty and boldness in Octavia 
 was indisputable ; for I feel that when I have 
 determined to be affronted outright and down- 
 right with Octavia, when I was quite sure she 
 was to blame, or when, if she had met me with 
 apologies or explanations, I should have scouted 
 her in the most decided manner ; yet when I 
 saw no sign of repentance, but perhaps an addi- 
 tional buoyancy of spirits about her, I yielded 
 to the sway she bore over all, and felt that 
 though I knew her faults, I only saw her 
 cliarms ! 
 
THE PET. 15 
 
 In her childhood she had had the bje-name 
 of Elphine attached to her : it began by the 
 French teacher's calling her so, and her fairy 
 form was so worthy of the appellative, that it 
 was retained as she grew up. She liked distinc- 
 tion, and the name pleased her fancy, or it is 
 probable she would not have acknowledged it. 
 
 There is little matter for surprise in her being 
 an acknowledged favourite. Beauty in itself is 
 a passport to most hearts ; but Elpliine joined 
 so many other advantages, — she was rich ; she 
 was independent ; she could beg holidays, buy 
 treats, influence tasks, take to plays and con- 
 certs, and, above all, was able and willing to 
 assist in smuggling a novel. Moreover, she 
 was the life of the school-room, the pride of her 
 governess, the show-girl of the masters I Oli ! 
 how does that show-off m]\xYQ the healthful sim- 
 plicity of a girl's mind. Surely if parents could 
 
If) THE PET. 
 
 know what deep foundations it lays for that most 
 encroaching foible of their daughters — vanity, — 
 they would not feel, or at least shoiv such ex- 
 travagant joy on seeing them the admired of a 
 '' Public Day/' 
 
THE PET. 
 
 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 " A look as blithe— a step as light, 
 As fabled njTnph or fairy sprite, 
 A voice whose every word and tone, 
 Might make a thousand hearts its own, — 
 A brow of fervour, and a mien 
 Bright with the hopes of gay fifteen. 
 » • * * * 
 
 And oh ! that negligence of dress. 
 The wild infantine playfulness: 
 That archness of the trifling brow,— 
 That could command — we knew not how- 
 Were links of gold that held me then, 
 In links I may not know again. 
 For dearer to an honest heart. 
 Is childhood's mirth, than woman's art." 
 
 Perhaps no scene of triumph is so completely 
 satisfying to the female heart as a " Public 
 
18 THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 Day " at a giiTs school. The thousand direct 
 or indirect assurances the show girl receives that 
 she is the chosen one, before the momentous day 
 arrives ; — the extra lessons, the additional orna- 
 ments, the careful decorating, the repeated in- 
 junctions, " not to disappoint the high expecta- 
 tions formed of her," " to remember all eyes will 
 be on her," that " she will be looked to as the 
 leader of the dance," or, it may be, the first 
 character in the juvenile drama. Nothing 
 could save a girl's head from being turned by 
 such flattering pre-eminence, but a failure on 
 the day, and when, instead of that, Elphine 
 heard herself encored, applauded, and instanced 
 as a pattern to their daughters, by parents ; saw 
 the gratified smile of Mrs. Manners, as she said, 
 in the hearing of the whole company, " Miss 
 Elphinstone, you have fulfilled my most anxious 
 wishes : I only regret your papa is not here to 
 
THE PUBLIC DAY. 19 
 
 witness your triumph, and partake my delight ; 
 — let me thank you for the pleasure your exer- 
 tions have afforded my friends, and the credit 
 they have reflected on my establishment." 
 What head of fifteen could have borne it ? I 
 query if any would have appeared to bear it so 
 well as Elphine. She chose to play the simple, 
 and though afterwards invited to join the 
 dance of " grown children," which took place 
 at the conclusion of the juvenile exhibition, she 
 preferred sitting still. She had the tact to 
 know that now her dancing was considered 
 perfect ; and she thought it was possible that 
 by being more tired, or not having such prac- 
 tised partners, her credit might be in some 
 degree injured. 
 
 Thus, in the school of life, many find it 
 expedient to forego a slight gratification, rather 
 than, by grasping at more, hazard the credit 
 
20 THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 they have already gained. But if Elphine's 
 equanimity was endangered by the plaudits of 
 the company, and shaken by Mrs. Manners''s 
 public address, it was utterly overthrown by 
 the talking over of the affair among her young 
 friends next day. Of course it was the only 
 subject on the tapis, and a disinterested per- 
 son, i. e. neither pupil, teacher, nor relative, 
 might have been amused by the voluble con- 
 versations which different happy groups were 
 carrying on in the garden. In one walk were 
 two friends^ Miss Parsons and ]\Iiss Clark, who 
 were the standing butts of the school. It was 
 customary to say of these inseparables, " Here 
 is Mary Parsons, Anne Clark cannot be far 
 off." They were sentimental, though their 
 very appearance put to flight every sentiment 
 in others save that of the striking dissimilarity 
 of their noses — that of Mary Parsons remind- 
 
THE PUBLIC DAY. 21 
 
 ing US, of the long tight nasal organ of his 
 Grace of , as we had seen him repre- 
 sented when, as a great treat, Mrs. Manners took 
 us to see the panorama of Waterloo, whilst 
 Anne Clark's brought before us that cocked- 
 up, immovable, impossible-to-be-drawn-down 
 nose of a bv-gone minister to whom we had 
 politel}' been introduced by ^ladame Tussaud, 
 as she has him playing at one of hi> favourite 
 games. But they would be sentimental, and 
 were now playing off their first-rate airs. 
 
 '' Dear Anne," began ^liss Parsons, " how 
 excessively you exerted yourself last night I 
 vou looked charmingly ; but I had my fears that 
 vou would injure your delicate healtli. I often 
 gave youacautionary shake of thehcad. Heigho ! 
 we, who were heroines last evening, are to-day 
 transformed into courtiers and gardeners. Do 
 you understand my allusion, love?"* 
 
22 THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 " Understand — yes ; but forgive me, dearest 
 Mary — niy thoughts are not here," sighed she of 
 the ne% retrousse, in the softest zephyr. Just 
 then Elphine and a group passed them, when 
 she, overhearing Miss Clark''s dulcet breathings, 
 sang " My heart's in the highlands, my heart is 
 not here." Her party laughed loudly, and, in the 
 exuberance of youthful mirth, ran till they 
 were stopped by an arbour which terminated 
 the walk. 
 
 " What did we run for .^" asked Caroline 
 Mavor. 
 
 '' To rest ourselves,"*"* replied Elphine, throw- 
 ing herself on a seat ; " I am quite tired." 
 
 " Ah, Elphine, you did not look tired last 
 night," said Caroline, looking significantly. 
 
 " Nor you, my dear. Well, I must do you the 
 justice to say that in all our rehearsals you 
 never danced as you did last night ; but I re- 
 
THE PUBLIC DAY. 23 
 
 marked it of all. I think it must have been 
 the lights— and the band — and the" 
 
 " The company, Elphine ?" 
 
 " True, the company had a share. I am sure 
 I never felt so elated, and even little Madjre 
 surpassed herself. Kiss me, Madge ; you 
 managed your pirouette admirably/"' 
 
 " Oh! but my sandal — I v.as so ashamed!" 
 
 '' Never mind the sandal ; no one saw it l)ut 
 Mrs. Hirst Favell, and she has broken a sandal 
 before now, I dare say." 
 
 " Oh ! but you, Elphine — I never shall forgot 
 your Zauberflote ; often as I've heard vou 
 play it, never did you touch the keys as you 
 did last night." 
 
 *' Fancy, child, 'tis your fancy — I tell you the 
 chandeliers dazzled vour eyes and bewildered 
 vour brain. I should have disg-raced the best 
 of masters, if, to use one of his elegant techni- 
 calities, I had broken down.'"' 
 
24 THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 " How droll you are, Elphine ! but did the 
 light from the chandeliers dazzle the eyes of 
 that young lord — what's his name ?" 
 
 " The gentleman with Mrs. Hirst Favell f"" 
 asked Octavia sbnply.''' 
 
 " No, no, that was young Heneage. By the by, 
 I heard his brother, that handsome officer, say 
 Anne Clark was the finest girl — I'm sure he has 
 no taste." 
 
 " But she did look remarkably well ; — nay, I 
 thought her almost beautiful in the shawl dance. 
 A little more animation would do no harm, how- 
 ever, to her graceful attitudes." 
 
 " Oh !" said Caroline, " did you hear the 
 Dean criticising Laura Flintham's features ? He 
 said a vast deal in her favour, and concluded by 
 declaring she w^as a classical beauty."" 
 
 " Ah ! ah !" cried little Madge, who had 
 stooped apparently inattentive, to gather some 
 
THE PUBLIC DAY. 25 
 
 early violets ; " you all heard something, I dare 
 say, and so did I, but I won''t tell — no, no, I 
 won't tell;" looking archly at ]\Iiss Elphinstone. 
 
 " Oh ! if it is about Elphine, you'll tell me — 
 and me" — cried a chorus of voices. '' Fll tell her, 
 then, her own self, because she tied my sandal 
 for me last night. Who do you think asked 
 your name ? — why that gentleman you would 
 not dance with I" 
 
 " And was that all ? — what a grand secret !'' 
 said they all in a breath. 
 
 '^ No it was not all, you would all like to have 
 it said of you ; but you cannot, Carry, for youVe 
 too tall — nor Miss Hirst Favell, because — '' 
 
 " But what was it, Madge .?" asked Elphine 
 impatiently. 
 
 " Why — stoop down — he said— he said, you 
 were a perfect little beauty ! There, III 
 run away lest they should beat me!" and off 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
26 THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 she bounded, throwing down her violets as she 
 started. 
 
 " The little creature !" said Caroline, " to 
 remember so well."" 
 
 " And to understand^'"' remarked Miss 
 Hirst Favell. 
 
 " I dare say it is all a mistake," said Elphine 
 in a constrained voice ; " such a child is not 
 likely to be correct." But if Octavia really 
 thought her capable of mistaking, it is probable 
 she wished to have a correct statement ; for it 
 was observed that she chose to have Madge 
 with her that evening, and as I passed where 
 they were sitting, I heard the little girl say, 
 " And he told his brother, if you would not 
 dance, he should s't and look at you/' 
 
 *' May I join you, Elphine.^" said I. 
 
 " To be sure ; Madge and I were talking 
 over last night." 
 
THE PUBLIC DAY. 2( 
 
 " Ah ! 'twill be well if some of us don't 
 dream of last night." 
 
 " And you, Joanna ?'' 
 
 " Oh ! I am quite heart whole. Indeed I had 
 not a pleasant word spoken to me except by old 
 Lady Barnet, who said something agreeable to 
 every one : she thinks it a duty incumbent on 
 her in return for our painting flowers for her, 
 thereby giving an eclat to her hot-house it 
 would not otherwise possess. Mrs. Manners 
 would not get through a public day, if it were 
 not for her ladyship : I saw her always on the 
 alert to cheer any that seemed dull or ill-hu- 
 moured ; but did you notice Miss Hirst Favell ? 
 what a look she gave her brother for catching 
 her shawl !" 
 
 " Yes ; but, Joanna, I think we've talked over 
 every body but Mrs. Manners; now what 
 thought you of her .^" 
 
 c 2 
 
2S THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 " Whv I thought she looked a ladv and she 
 moved a queen. When Fm an old woman I'll 
 always wear a train." 
 
 " And I'll wear a black hat ; — I almost wish I 
 was an old woman to sport one ! and I'll have 
 such a drooping white feather !''' 
 
 " Ah ! Elphine, you will do many things 
 before you come to the black hat ! — but hark ! 
 there's the supper bell." 
 
 Mrs. jManners entered the room a Vordinaire 
 with a book in her hand : no one studied effect 
 more than she did ; and to produce it she took 
 care never to come into a room without some- 
 thino; in her hand : at home it was in the mornino^ 
 a newspaper, in the afternoon a book, and each 
 served for a subject of conversation. ]\Irs. Man- 
 ners was quickly enclosed by her pupils, who 
 thanked her for the amusement of the pre- 
 ceding evening; indeed it seemed a regular 
 
THE PUBLIC DAY. 29 
 
 debtor and creditor settling. Mrs. Manners was 
 a woman of finished air and appearance : she 
 loved to flatter girls by treating them as 
 women. With lively girls it was a plan that 
 succeeded admirably ; but she had some too 
 modest, or too shy, to meet it properly ; it 
 was, however, this manner which had hitherto 
 held a complete ascendancy over Miss Elphin- 
 stone. I never saw through this flattery so 
 clearly as on this evening ; surely it was not 
 because / was so little praised ! She had a word 
 of grace for all ; those whom she could praise 
 heartily were addressed boldly as Miss jMavor, 
 Miss Hirst Favell ; but there were some few 
 who required more delicate handling ; — to such 
 she said, " I was quite taken by surprise by 
 you, my dear Agnes ; always sing second, it 
 suits your voice, and / make it a rule to think 
 well of one who can bear to hear a voice above 
 
30 THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 her own. I heard the Dean say, ' Ifthatyounf 
 lady sang first, she would only be in her place.' 
 And Madge — where's Madge? Little curly head, 
 I need not say how you pleased me. Oh ! 
 Miss Fane, give me credit for dressing you 
 in green ; I told you how it would become you, 
 and Lady Barnet said it was quite refresh- 
 ing to turn to you ; besides, there was not 
 another frock of the colour, and I like something 
 distinguishing. But I do not see Miss Elphin- 
 stone; — ah ! those eyes look a little changed since 
 last night at this hour : I say nothing to ?/ow, 
 Elphine : some of you, my dears, surprised me, 
 Miss Elphinstone only equalled my expecta- 
 tions. O that her father had been here !" 
 
 Elphine was overcome, completely wearied ; 
 her spirits had been violently excited the pre- 
 vious evening ; she had drunk deeply of the 
 cup of admiration, and she had passed this day 
 
THE PUBLIC DAY. 31 
 
 thinking over the many agreeable ^vords and 
 more agreeable g-lances she had received .-—this 
 mention of her father was too much for lier ; 
 she leaned on my arm and burst into tears. 
 Mrs. [Manners pointed to her dressing-room 
 which opened from the school-room. We went 
 there, and Elpliine was vexed at having so ex- 
 posed herself. " But indeed, Joanna, I am 
 wearied, quite worn out. ^Vfercy on you, child, 
 how quietly you take all this !"" 
 
 " All what, Elphine ?" 
 
 " Why, these praises, and thanks, and ac- 
 knowledgments." 
 
 " Nay, pardon me ; I was only told I looked 
 well in green, or green looked well on me." 
 Her light spirit returned at my words, and she 
 laughed heartily at my mock meekness, as she 
 called it. 
 
 '^ Surely we shall have letters from Douglas, 
 
32 THE PUBLIC DAY. 
 
 to morrow, Joan. — Heigho! good night: do pray 
 
 stay and bid Mrs. Manners good night for me, 
 
 say I was so tired ; — heigho !" 
 
 " Is that sigh to stay in England, Elphine ?" 
 *' No, it is already on its way to the island 
 
 — the sweet little island.*" 
 
THK RESULT. 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE RESULT. 
 
 *' Sensibility would be a good portress if sbe liad but one 
 hand ; with her right she opens the door to pleasure, ^vitil her 
 left to pain." 
 
 Ttie next was Octavia's last half-year. She 
 resolved to give her young companions a fare- 
 well fete, and as we were not permitted to visit 
 durin"; the last month, on account of finisliin<r 
 work, keeping frocks clean, Sec. she determined 
 on delaying her dance till tliat month. ]Mrs. 
 Manners was a little annoyed by this arranoe- 
 
 c 5 
 
34 THE RESULT. 
 
 merit, but Elphine was a privileged person, 
 and therefore very little opposition was made 
 to her in a direct manner. It chanced, however, 
 that there was a family whom Octavia wished 
 to invite, from whom Mrs. Manners had re- 
 ceived some slight; and Elphine was told, in 
 terms the least offensive, and in Mrs. Manners's 
 sweetest manner, and with her most expiatory 
 smile, '• that it was impossible Miss Leighs 
 could enter her house." Octavia at first acted 
 the stupid ; but not finding it succeed, " Oh ! 
 my dear ma'am. Miss Hirst Favell met Jane 
 Leigh the last time she was at home, and they 
 talked it all over. Jane inquired, and Miss 
 Hirst Favell explained how you were visiting 
 at Lady Barnet's when the Leighs gave their 
 concert, and Jane L^igh said it was all a 
 mistake. You know, ma'am, Mrs. Leigh is 
 very deaf, and " 
 
THE RESULT. Sj 
 
 " My dear Elphine, you must excuse me ; 
 any thing else you can ask."*' 
 
 " But, ma'am, Mrs. Leigh will call and 
 explain; pray, f/^ff?* Mrs. ^Manners! I assure you 
 they do not make the least objection to come. 
 Now pray, pray look ! I've written the card. 
 — ' The Misses Leigh and ^Mr. G. C. Leigh. 
 Oh ! 'tis the prettiest name to write I have met 
 with vet." 
 
 ^Irs. Manners tried all ways. — " Is that a 
 carriage at the door, love ? Ah ! I see, for 
 our opposite neighbours ; — I always say we and 
 the Foxes have more carriage company than 
 any one in this street. Well, my dear, may 
 I ring for James ? Are your cards ready ? ' 
 
 Octavia understood her, but she dissemblecL 
 Siie contrived to have it intimated to the 
 Leighs how she was situated. They were 
 equally anxious with herself that they should 
 
33 'J HE IlESCLT. 
 
 come; and, by way of making sure, Mrs. and 
 Miss Jane Leigh called on Mrs. jManners : in 
 vain. ]\Irs. Manners was inflexible, and Oc- 
 tavia outrageous. Opposition from this quarter 
 was so new, that she did not attempt to brook 
 it. She made and remade a hundred resolu- 
 tions ; sometimes threatening to have no ball, 
 then other thoughts would prevail. I had 
 some influence over her, and exerted it for my 
 schoolfellows. '' Remember, Elphine, it is 
 your last half-year : leave the school you have 
 so long been at, in the credit you have so long 
 maintained." 
 
 " Yes, Joanna, it is my last half-year. I 
 feel that ; if it were not so, I should not be 
 refused." 
 
 " Nay, Elphine '' 
 
 *' Nay, my dear, it speaks for itself; there 
 \vill be a way, but you may set your heart at 
 
Tin-: iiEsuLT. 37 
 
 rest ; the ball we will have, though I no longer 
 anticipate pleasure from it."' 
 
 And, truly, little pleasure did it give any 
 one. We had the best of every thing but 
 hearts to enjoy ; and I really believe Octavia 
 had a mischievous delight as she stood looking 
 at the gloomy faces which surrounded the well- 
 covered supper table. 
 
 " Who would have thought," whispered 
 Caroline Mavor, " that one person could have 
 thrown every thing so wrong? What a party 
 of pleasure ! and this the last party of pleasure 
 we shall have this half-year." 
 
 " Do not be too sure of that/' said Elphine, 
 coming behind us. 
 
 It seemed to be with one consent that this 
 evening was never talked over, at least not 
 openly. Perhaps it was the subject of the 
 many corner conversations which about this 
 time were taking place. 
 
38 THE RESULT. 
 
 Sometimes I heard stray words as I passed 
 the clustered heads, in close converse ; but my 
 leaving school depended on the finishing of a 
 certain drawing, at which I laboured every 
 spare hour, so that I seldom joined the divided 
 sets; — an instinctive feeling, however, told me 
 discontent had crept into our once happy school- 
 room. I often wondered Mrs. Manners never 
 remarked it, but, probably, she chose to be 
 blind. Miss Elphinstone and I slept in the 
 same room ; and her actions were so much 
 more lively than mine, that she usually was 
 undressed first. One night, however, she was far 
 behind me ; she appeared to have made up her 
 mind to be last, and I did not care to thwart 
 her. For a full hour I watched her drawing 
 her pretty hair through her fingers ; first it 
 was twisted over her eyes, then braided across 
 her forehead : then she took a freak to put 
 
THE RESULT. 33 
 
 ornaments into it. " Dear Elphine, when do 
 you mean to curl that hair ?"" 
 
 " Oh ! you are awake, — I was just wishing 
 for your opinion. Tell me, does this pearl band 
 or my dress comb look best V 
 
 *' Best "t — oh ! the comb ; — but pray be quick 
 and come to bed, for tiie candle tires my eyes 
 sadly." 
 
 " Shut them, then, my dear, for this candle 
 will not be extinguished these — let me see — it 
 is only eleven — not these two hours." 
 
 " Gracious, Octavia ! ]\Iiss Elphinstone, 
 what are you about ? what can you be going 
 to do?'** I exclaimed, as she calmly took out 
 a satin slip. 
 
 " Going to do "^ — why to get you to tie my 
 frock, and go with me, if you will — you are 
 one of the included. There," tossing me a 
 card, " there"'s a card written by George Leigh 
 himself." 
 
40 THE RESULT. 
 
 " Oh ! Octavia, you know we are under 
 promise not to go out the last month; — and at 
 this hour too !'"* 
 
 " The hour absolves us, n)v dear ; 'tis not 
 tea. Read your note, child, you'll see it is 
 ail invitation to breakfast." 
 
 " Impossible, Elphine !" 
 
 " Not at all impossible, Joan. Come, jump 
 up and dress ; the housemaid is won over to 
 the cause, and at one we are off.*" 
 
 " Think, think, El})hine, what you are 
 doing ; — the risk, the dreadful hazard.'' 
 
 " Pshaw ! is it not my last half-year ? if we 
 are found out, which I do not in the least fear. 
 Come, Joanna, I never dared tell you before- 
 hand ; — I trusted to a coup-de-main ; I meant 
 to have wakened you when I was full dressed, 
 and then to have startled you into it." 
 
 " Who are going, Elphine?" 
 
THE RESULT. 41 
 
 '• Will ijon go, Joanna ?'"* 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then you must excuse my telling you. 
 If you go, you will see the party ; if you stay 
 away, it will be best for you to know nothing 
 abojut it." 
 
 *' But I know you are going." 
 
 " As to that, you are welcome to all you 
 know about me; but I'll betray nobody else. 
 Come, mv dear, we have no time to lose; what 
 will you put on ? — green ? — you know that 
 becomes you. Nay, Joanna, do not look so 
 grave, that does 7iot suit you. Now do not 
 screw up your mouth for 7io ; you should never 
 ]jut your lips in that form, except when you 
 are going to sing. I remember that was my 
 first lesson — ' Always form your lips as if you 
 were going to pronounce O,' said Mr. Eavestaff. 
 But now, dear Joanna, rise ; my pleasure will 
 
42 THE RESULT. 
 
 not be half complete unless you are in the 
 scrape ; remeniber 'tis the last favour I may 
 ask while I stay at school. Do dress yourself 
 and go, there's a dear good girl." 
 
 " Now do stay at home, Octavia, and you 
 will be much more like one ; reflect, dear 
 Elphine, only reflect, and I am sure you will 
 stay. You are at present likely to leave school 
 in the highest credit, do not by a foolish freak 
 hazard the character you have so long borne." 
 
 *' Well done, Prudence ! ' character you have 
 long borne,"' forsooth ! why what sort of charac- 
 ter did you please to bestow on me the very 
 last time we diff^ered ? Was not I mis- 
 chievous, petulant, and I know not what 
 beside ? Oh ! your pardon, young lady, I 
 know you are an admirer of consistency, and I 
 am only acting up to my character ; besides, 
 I am in for it ; I am ringleader, and could not 
 
THE RESULT. 43 
 
 desert my party for any thing, no, not for 
 those tears, Joanna. Nay, now you are down- 
 right foolish! how I shall crumple my frock I" 
 she continued, as she threw herself on the bed 
 beside me. 
 
 For some moments she lav perfectly still. 
 At last I saw she was weeping. " Dearest El- 
 phine, you will not go ?"'' 
 
 *• I must, I must," cried she, springing up, 
 " it is no use saying another word, Joanna. 
 I promised Jane Leigh I would, because of the 
 shabby w^ay in which I was treated about them 
 at my ball : and there are others leagued — in 
 short, I must." 
 
 " But you would rather not ?'' 
 
 " Fm not sure of that. I rather think I shall 
 like it. but FU tell you better when I come 
 back. I want to engage Jane Leigh to visit 
 me when I leave school, and I have a book of 
 
4-4 THE RESULT. 
 
 hers, and many little matters have to be 
 arranged. We put off' all till this evening — 
 morning I should say. Hark ! hush ! fare 
 you well, Joan ; I shall give your compliments 
 to George Leigh, and ' you are engaged."" "^ 
 
 She extino'uished her candle and went down 
 stairs softly. I every moment expected they 
 would be surprised or betrayed ; but they not 
 only set out in safety, but returned the same. 
 It was broad daylight when Elphine entered 
 our room. I expected her to speak on coming 
 in ; she, however, scarcely gave a glance to see 
 if I were awake. Quietly and deliberately she 
 undressed, put away all her frippery, and sat 
 down before the g-lass to curl her hair. Never 
 was it done so exactly ; — every curl was done 
 and undone half-a-dozen times, I all the while 
 affecting to sleep, which, in fact, my thoughts 
 would not allow me to do in tlie course of that 
 
THE RESULT. 45 
 
 iiio'ht. Sometimes she ceased curling and let 
 her hands fall languidly by her side ; then she 
 would rouse herself and brush her poor head 
 with great perseverance. It was evident she 
 was greatly fatigued ; for, at length, with her 
 arms folded on tiie toilette, and her head 
 resting on her arms, she fell asleep. Poor 
 girl! how often afterwards did I think of that 
 morning ! Sometimes I ventured to remind 
 her of it. Occasionally its image checked her 
 in her idle, reckless pursuits ; but frequently 
 its mention rendered her more positive and 
 headstrong. 
 
 Many languid faces assembled round the 
 breakfast table; it was easy for me, who had 
 a key to the affair, to see who had been of the 
 nocturnal party. Poor Elphine looked cut to 
 the heart when Mrs. Manners with great solici- 
 tude asked her if she had rested ill. It is im- 
 
46 THE RESULT. 
 
 possible to stifle, I may say to choke, the 
 feelings of shame to which such a scene gives 
 rise. There she sat, knowing, feeling, (but not 
 seeing,) that many knew nothing of her dere- 
 liction ; those who did, were equally implicated, 
 except indeed one, who, however, she was sure 
 would not betray her, but the rising, gushing 
 sensations were, as she afterwards confessed, in- 
 supportable. " To act a lie ! to be seen and 
 known to do so ! Oh ! Joan," said she, when 
 we were alone, " nothing but bringing the 
 others into disgrace kept me from owning every 
 thing — did you see me half rise ? the words 
 were on my lips. I was quite faint when Mrs. 
 Manners asked if I had passed a bad night ; 
 my head was in a whirl ; once I thought I had 
 actually said, ' Ma''am, we were out all night ;' 
 really, Joanna, I did. Do you know how I 
 felt ? Do you remember ever feeling so ? 
 
THE llESULT. 47 
 
 But "'tis no matter, the evening is now over, and 
 miserable enough it was.**' 
 
 '* Miserable, Octavia ?" 
 
 " Aye, truly, I envied you a thousand times 
 when I heard the remarks made on your re- 
 fusing to go. Can you believe it ? after their 
 so pressing us to go, Amelia Leigh said, ' We 
 were just going to bed, having given you up.' 
 George, too, reflected on us by praising you 
 for being so eocquisitely feminine, he liked 
 women to be fearful : pshaw ! he's an exqui- 
 site and nothing better. Still Joanna, there 
 was one there who was something better, the 
 same young Heneage who was at our ball, our 
 happy ball — but I do not think I liked him. 
 I am suie I had no reason, for he never was 
 civil. He had the audacity to say I did not 
 look half so well as on the public night, and 
 kept pestering me with questions about which 
 
48 THE RESULT. 
 
 was INIiss Fane — was she the sleepy beauty 
 his brother admired ? — no, she was present he 
 saw — was it the foreign looking girl in black 
 gossamer ? (only think of his knowing gossamer 
 from calimanco !) at last I said you were in 
 green, and finding that did not satisfy the 
 gentleman, I told him Miss Fane was the per- 
 fect little beauty he had said he would look 
 at all night ! I own it was very thoughtless of 
 me, my dear, and bold if you like, but he 
 wearied me with his inquiries about you. 
 Well, would you think it ? he was utterly 
 abashed ; you never saw any one look so silly, 
 — ten times worse than George Leio-h does al- 
 ways, for George is unconscious of it, but Mr. 
 Heneage felt he was looking silly, and so I 
 suppose, he thought he would punish me, for he 
 took himself away and spent all the rest of the 
 time with the sleepy beauty, Anne Clark. To 
 
THE RESULT. 49 
 
 crown all, when I asked Mrs. Leigh for Jane 
 to go home with me, she said, — no, she did not 
 exactly say, but she hinted that I was too 
 young, and, no doubt, she meant too giddy 
 for Jane to be with. The worst of it was, 
 that Mrs. Leigh being so deaf, I could not 
 make her understand without Mr. Heneasre 
 hearing ; — there he sat twirling the bell-rope 
 and listening to every word ; at last, however, 
 the handle gave him a sharp blow on the face, 
 and right glad was I to see myself in some 
 sort avenged. It was a miserable night, a 
 wretched party ! to be sure, Mr. Heneage 
 would come home with me, but it was quite 
 evident he merely saw me safe at school again. 
 We scarcely spoke till we passed the church ; 
 the clock happened to be striking five, which 
 he in his wisdom remarked — I could not help 
 laughing, but indeed, Joanna, it was an hysteri- 
 
 VOL. I, D 
 
50 THE RESULT. 
 
 cal laugh, and one that made him look so grave 
 as to change my foolish mirth into still more 
 foolish tears, which I believe he saw ; for when 
 we ])arted at the turn he had the assurance 
 to say, " This will do you good for the rest of 
 your life/' But what do I care for the future, 
 unless I could recall the past ! Oh ! if I had 
 but stayed at home ! And now it is all over, they 
 are every one ready to say it was my fault, 
 and so, in truth, it was, I do not deny that ; 
 yet they were equally eager about the party 
 when it was in anticipation. I did not tell 
 them, Joanna, how nearly it was given up at the 
 last, but you know, you whom I love so dearly, 
 and that's enough." 
 
 The eventual discovery and just displeasure 
 of ]\Irs. Manners seemed a relief rather than a 
 concern to Octavia, who generously took upon 
 herself a larger share of blame than I believed 
 was due to her. 
 
TEMPER. 51 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 " Plus nous etions eunes, moins nous avionsde resignation . 
 car dans la jeunesse surtout I'on s'attend au bonheur Ton 
 croit en avoir le droit, et i'on se revoke a I'idee de ne pas 
 Tobtenir." 
 
 OcTAviA never recovered the disgust this affair 
 caused her ; she saw plainly that it was her 
 advantages, her power, her facilities, in short, 
 as she said, her purse, which drew the atten- 
 tions of her companions, not herself. Some- 
 times she affected to despise them and their 
 love, declaring there was nothing real in friend- 
 
 d2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
52 TEMPER. 
 
 ship. She recurred to the instances of her 
 earlier youth, and adduced them as reasons for 
 her cynical opinions, vowed she cared not for 
 any one's affection, that she should never 
 lack assurances of it so long as she had the 
 means of paying back in the only coin her 
 flatterers valued, and protested her certainty that 
 all the friendship offered her was nothing more 
 than interested flattery ; and, sooth to say, 
 her power had been so unfortunately great, 
 that she had never had the opportunity of prov- 
 ing it otherwise. 
 
 From these tirades, arising from a dissatis- 
 faction with herself, she would cease exhausted 
 and spiritless. Caroline Mavor used to say, it 
 would have made a good picture, if she could 
 have hit me off sitting quietly working at my 
 beautiful Psyche, which at every view seemed 
 to require more touching and finishing, and 
 
TEMPER. 53 
 
 Octavia with her small fingers plunged in her 
 thick hair, as with an elbow on the table she 
 leaned in vacant restlessness, sometimes throwing 
 back her redundant tresses with an action 
 which seemed to say she would fain fling away 
 her cares with equal impetuosity. 
 
 " What a contrast between you and me, Jo- 
 anna !" said Elphine, one evening when we were 
 seated near each other ; "here am I with every 
 possible wish gratified, and often anticipated, 
 having only to hint and to have, and yet I 
 am miserable — utterly miserable, — and you so 
 quiet, so satisfied, though I know your whole heart 
 is set upon getting that foolish drawing finished." 
 
 " Not my whole heart, Octavia, for I wish 
 sincerely to see you happier. What can make 
 you so discontented ? I suspect, for the first 
 time in your life, you have formed a wish that 
 caniiot be gratified ; still I think if you had 
 
5 4 TEMPER. 
 
 some drawing, or some anything, or any some- 
 thing which you must do, you would be more 
 like other people." 
 
 " More like other people ! can you wish 
 that, Miss Fane ? If you advocate the cause 
 of such time-servers, I shall only have to class 
 you with them, and feel that I am indeed alone." 
 
 " Never less alone, than when alone, El- 
 phine, believe me. Let me beg of you, if only 
 to please me, — come you know I am no time- 
 server, — indulge me, therefore, by throwing 
 off these morbid humours. Do not think so ill 
 of your companions ; every one must be guided 
 by circumstances ; you should remember, that 
 they of whose coldness you complain are re- 
 turning to school; they, therefore, naturally, 
 feel it impossible to fling off those restraints 
 both of manners and feelings, which you with- 
 out the least effort can dispense with. Why 
 
TEMPER. 55 
 
 should they disgust Mrs. Manners and the 
 teachers by showing a useless and (as would 
 soon appear) refractory demeanour? It would 
 only gratify your vanity, Octavia, and that," 
 I continued, "' would be needless." 
 
 She had listened with great patience, and 
 even honoured me by raising her head into a 
 position of attention. 
 
 " I believe,""* said she, " it may be needless 
 to increase my vanity, but what else have I to 
 turn to ? I have no relation but papa, and 
 here has he left me all my life isolated." 
 
 " Nay, Elphine, 'tis he who is isolated, 
 as he no doubt fondly hopes for your benefit.'' 
 
 "Well, Joanna, you are very contradictious 
 this evening : I wished to prove that I was 
 very unhappy, with good cause, and in the 
 commencement you make me smile, and now 
 being interrupted, I shall beg to ask why I 
 
56 TEMPER. 
 
 am always obliged to give up to you ? I dare 
 say, if you had not stopped my harangue, I 
 should have brought that in as a minor clause 
 of grief, but I insist that you clear up this 
 matter to my satisfaction before further pro- 
 ceedings." 
 
 " Ah, Elphine ! I hope your stock of com- 
 plaints, like most other 'miseries of human 
 life," diminishes when looked into. AVithout 
 flattery, your countenance at this moment is 
 any thing rather than the frontispiece of afflic- 
 tion ; but come, any thing to rouse you, — if 
 you "vvill grind my colours I will enter on my 
 defence." 
 
 " Oh ! here is Madge returned, she shall 
 be witness, Joanna. Come hither, Madge ; 
 how is mamma ? what beautiful roses ! whom 
 are they for ?" 
 
 " Vou shall clioose ; — some for you, one for 
 
TEMPER. 57 
 
 Miss Fane, and one for Caroline, and" — con- 
 tinued the child hesitating — " I wished to give 
 Laura Flinthani one — the gigantic velvet ; she 
 wanted one for the screen she is painting. 
 But never mind, Octavia, you may have it, for 
 I can send to mamma to-morrow."" 
 " Not on my account, my dear child." 
 " Yes, indeed, it will be better, for this 
 would die and be useless, and I will send for 
 one in a pot; — now do, Elphine, keep it — stay, 
 let me put them in your hair." 
 
 Madge climbed up and began to stick the 
 roses in Miss Elphinstone's head, in a fantastic 
 but not inelegant style. Octavia's spirits rose. 
 She forgot my colours and my defence ; again 
 she basked in the warmth of notice, and she 
 could not withstand its effect, though from so 
 mere a child ; she could not resist the inclina- 
 tion to keep the flowers, because it proved 
 
 D 5 
 
58 TEMPER. 
 
 Madge's greater affection for her. It was not till 
 after some time that she remembered me, when 
 I was brought to her mind accidentally by 
 Madge, who was giving her an account of some 
 visitors who had gone to see her mamma's 
 hot-house. 
 
 " There was one gentleman who asked after 
 you, Elphine, and you too, Miss Fane," said 
 she as she observed me look up, which I did, in 
 fact, just in time to witness the richest glow 
 over Elphine's complexion; "papa laughed at 
 him for having two flames. What did he mean, 
 Elphine ?^^ 
 
 Elphine vouchsafed no reply. 
 
 " And he said he had a great respect for 
 Miss Fane, and then papa laughed still more. 
 Oh ! sit still, Octavia, you have made me 
 break this beautiful rose, and it is the one 
 Mr. Heneage said was so curious — the shell- 
 rose." 
 
T KM PER. 59 
 
 " Let me look," said Elphine, eagerly, '* I 
 never saw one." 
 
 " There are many I admire more,'"' said 
 Madge, " but you see it is shaped like a 
 shell." 
 
 It would seem as if Elphine admired it 
 more than any other, for she wore it through- 
 out the next day, and a few days afterwards 
 I saw it was carefully stored among her best, 
 her poor mamma'^s trinkets. 
 
 Midsummer came at last. Octavia was de- 
 voted to music ; it was almost the only art 
 in which she had made any decided progress, and 
 her acquirement of it was, perhaps, involuntary, 
 for she was naturally musical ; all her motions 
 were, if I may so say, harmonious. 
 
 Caroline ]\Iavor used sometimes to amuse 
 herself and a party of us by watching Octavia\s 
 motions, to each of which Caroline protested 
 
60 TEMPER. 
 
 she could accommodate some time ; indeed the 
 whim pleased us so much that many airs were 
 better known as Elphine's Quick Step, or El- 
 phine's Chasse, than by their original names. 
 Whenever I could creep quietly to the side of 
 Caroline without a set about us, 1 enjoyed this 
 amusement highly. Miss Mavor played admi- 
 rably, and her easy transitions from " grave to 
 gay," from mirth to melancholy, pleased me 
 nearly as much as watching Octavia's truly fe~ 
 minine movements. But we were generally too 
 soon interrupted ; s.ome one discovered what we 
 were engaged in, and at last, on its reaching El- 
 phine's ears, adieu to all nature for that time. 
 
 Breaking-up day ! What sounds are com- 
 parable to those words ! Are any so musical — 
 so magical ? I question if it were brought to 
 the vote, whether " breaking-up day " would 
 not bear an advantage over " chairing day," 
 
TEMPER. 61 
 
 which is, I believe, the next subject of general 
 interest. We all have felt the delight of break- 
 ing-up and going away, — there are many wlio 
 have known nothing of the hopes and fears of a 
 contested election. 
 
 Octavia received the prize for music ; my 
 Psyche carried off that for drawing. Elphine 
 took hers very carelessly, and I felt afraid 
 when I saw her manner. I dreaded lest she 
 should decline the medal, as I know that to the 
 misrepresentations of the music master she at- 
 tributed Mrs. Manners's disgust on the subject 
 of Mrs. Leigh's concert, and from the indignant 
 curl of her lip, amounting to a smile of derision, 
 I almost expected to see her return it. Whe- 
 ther she ever meditated any such thing I know 
 not, but the medal was left in a drawer, after 
 her departure. To be sure there were some 
 trifling ornaments left also, and Mrs Manners 
 
62 TEMPEK. 
 
 chose to infer that it was an act of forgetful- 
 ness ; but I had my suspicions to the contrary. 
 Witli me and little Madge Octavia's parting 
 was very tender ; from the others she separated 
 almost with indifference, though to all she gave 
 some token of her acquaintanceship. Madge 
 surprised us by positively declining any gift 
 but Elphine''s old garden shawl. 
 
 " I shall never part from it,^'' said the child, 
 " but if you gave me any thing valuable, I 
 might." 
 
 " Write to me, my dear Elphine," said I, 
 '* as soon as you reach Douglas." 
 
 " I will, I will," replied she, sobbing, " and 
 you, Joanna, pray write directly when Jane is 
 married." 
 
 We parted ; she to meet her papa in London, 
 and from thence to go to the island on which she 
 professed all her hopes of happiness were fixed. 
 
TEMP Lit. 63 
 
 and I to a scene of mixed joy and pain, of min- 
 gled smiles and tears — my sister's wedding ! 
 
 How or where I obtained a quietus to the 
 tlioughts that thronged my mind, during the 
 last few weeks I was at school, I cannot de- 
 scribe. jNJany times have I been obliged to 
 chain down my mind to my employments, when 
 it would fain have fled to " fancy's rich do- 
 main," and revelled in the thousand and one 
 ideas which crowd the brain, and flush the heart 
 of a sister's bridesmaid elect. On flnishino" mv 
 drawing depended the event of accompanying 
 Jane and her husband, — mv efforts were oreat, 
 and my wishes fulfilled. I went with her to 
 A\itness and, by so doing, to partake of her hap- 
 piness. I spent some months with her and 
 Captain Earle in Bristol, and while there sup- 
 ported a constant correspondence with Octavia 
 Elphin stone. I had many pressing invitations 
 
G-t TEMPKK. 
 
 to visit her in her sea-girt abode ; but my long 
 absence from home, and my mother's falling 
 into a bad state of health on my return, even- 
 tually caused years to elapse before we met. 
 
FORT ANXE. C5 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FORT AXXE. 
 
 •' Oh Absence ! skilled to lend to those we love 
 A fairy charm which bids us love the more, 
 
 Errors to soften, and defects remove 
 
 No less is thine, and mellowing light to pour 
 On those dark shades which most displeased before.'' 
 
 At length, however, my mother threw off the 
 invalid, and, eager to give me a little relaxation, 
 herself urged me to accede to Miss Elphinstone's 
 desire that I should go to Douglas. Major 
 Elphinstone mfet me at Liverpool to escort me 
 to the island, of which I had heard so much in 
 
66 roUT ANNE. 
 
 Octavia's letters — tlie Isle of Man — the Isle of 
 Knaves, as the Major called it. 
 
 It was on a delightful evening, early in Au- 
 gust, that we entered the beautiful Bay of 
 Douglas. I have heard much of the Bay of 
 Naples, and the Bay of Dublin, but I question 
 whether, if ever I should be carried thither, I 
 should feel such emotions as swelled my bosom 
 as we sailed into Douglas Bay. 
 
 '' Which is Fort Anne ? " I asked, eagerly. 
 
 " That, that is it, and surely there is El- 
 phine ! " 
 
 We passed under a terrace to the left of the 
 town where stood a beautifully fair girl, so fair 
 and fairy-like, that had I not known such a one 
 at school, I should indeed have believed I was 
 in a land of elves, and she their lovely princess. 
 There is a feeling of great power impressed on 
 the mind when entering another country ; you 
 
FORT ANNE. 67 
 
 feel regret, anxiety and sorrow when you quit 
 your native shore ; but all those are what you 
 have known before; — the sensations experienced 
 on landing in another island are altogether 
 new. The consciousness that waters roll be- 
 tween you and home is perhaps the first thought 
 to which your novel situation gives birth, — this 
 is soon succeeded by emotions whicli none 
 can know but those who have set foot on a 
 foreign shore, and which, I doubt not, are 
 acknowledged by most who have. 
 
 I had scarcely time to give my thoughts a 
 name, before I was placed in a boat, which 
 seemed to own ]\Iajor Elphinstone'*s command ^ 
 and in a few short minutes we scudded across 
 the Bay. We landed on the terrace, where 
 stood my dear Octavia, or rather it was EI- 
 phine in propria persona. I despair of giving 
 
68 FORT ANNE. 
 
 any idea of her peculiar appearance, as she 
 stood in her bright eagerness to welcome me ; — 
 such a total abandonment of precision in her 
 dress, hair, and appearance, — her whole heart 
 absorbed in me, and that heart most legible in 
 her charming face. Then her fairy form so 
 graceful, as she stood in strong relief upon the 
 terrace, which is such an ornament to Fort 
 Anne, formed a picture, that often comes be- 
 fore mcj and never without a sigh of attesting 
 interest. 
 
 Dearly was I welcomed and cherished by 
 Octavia, who, for several days after my arrival, 
 seemed every thing that could be expected or 
 desired. She appeared not only gratified but 
 happy, if, by any sacrifice of her own inclina- 
 tions, she could add to my pleasure; and 
 means were not wanting to content me : in- 
 
FORT ANNE. 69 
 
 deed, the house itself was a source of amuse- 
 ment and interest to me. It stands in a most 
 prominent situation on Douglas Head, to the 
 left as you enter the Bay. The sea washing 
 the terrace, surrounding two sides of the house, 
 mingled most soothing sounds with Elphine's 
 Eolian harp, which was placed in a little oc- 
 tao;on room. That favourite room ! never 
 can I forget the delightful hours spent there ! 
 It was Elphine's pecuh'ar retreat — I can 
 scarcely call it a boudoir, it was not so 
 puerile — all had access to it. There were 
 none of the overpowering perfumes, nor yet 
 the spirit-stirring mystery usually attendant 
 on a lady's boudoir. But having obliged 
 you to enter the house, as I did, on the 
 terrace, I will now take you in at the more 
 usual entrance. Imagine, then, a long light 
 conservatory, full of sweet flowers, and inter- 
 
70 FORT ANNE. 
 
 spersed with singing-birds. I shall lead you 
 into a rather dark gallery, the gloom of 
 which I well remember used to be most 
 agreeably refreshing after being in the light 
 conservatory. Here were several family pic- 
 tures, — the Major in his regimentals, looking 
 like Sir Joshua Reynolds's Lord Heathfield, 
 Elphine's mother, a tall, ethereal creature, 
 leaning against a sun-dial, and stretching out 
 her hand towards the figure of her husband, as 
 if to claim his guardianship, and her deliverance 
 from the Time she felt devouring her. Over 
 these portraits hung one of Elphine — Elphine in 
 her happiest dress. She was represented as Ariel, 
 though it was a bold stretch in the painter, and 
 a most decided piece of flattery, I do not blame 
 him ; for portraits in formal every-day or high- 
 day dresses are odious. The author of an Essay 
 on Poetry and Music gives the same opinion at 
 
FOKT ANNE. 71 
 
 full length in much better terms. " I have 
 heard it disputed whether a portrait ought to 
 be habited according to the fashion of the times, 
 or in one of those dresses which, on account of 
 their elegance or having been long in use, are 
 affected by great painters, and therefore called 
 ])icturesque. # * # jf yQ^, ^yjg]^ ^q have a 
 portrait of your friend, that shall always be ele- 
 gant and never awkward, choose a picturesque 
 dress ; but if you mean to preserve the remem- 
 brance of a particular suit of clothes, without 
 minding the ridiculous figure your friend v»ill 
 probably cut in it a hundred years hence, you 
 may array his picture according to the fashion. 
 The history of dresses may, however, be worth 
 preserving." A mere formal figure, however, 
 was not Elphine; as Ariel she hovered over 
 her parents, and I could not help thinking, as I 
 saw her " delicate" fiojure bendinfj towards her 
 
72 FORT ANNE. 
 
 father's picture, that the parted lips spoke, that 
 the breath was perceptible, and her words, 
 " Thy thoughts I cleave to — what's thy plea- 
 sure r 
 
CONISTERRE. 73 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CONISTERRE. 
 
 " Toys of desperation ! SHABSPEARt. 
 
 " Deeds, thoughts, and words, perhaps remembered not 
 
 So keenly till that hour, but ne'er forgot ; 
 
 Things light or lovely in their acted time. 
 
 But now, to stern reflection, each a crime. 
 
 The withering sense of evil unreveal'd, 
 
 Not cankering less because the more conceal'd — 
 
 All, in a word, from which all eyes must start, 
 
 That opening sepulchre, the naked heart. 
 
 Bares with its buried woes till pride awake 
 
 To snatch the mirror from the soul — and break !" 
 
 I HAVE said that Fort Anne stretched over 
 the sea, and I can hardly imagine a more inter- 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 CONISTERRE. 
 
 esting diorama than that we every day wit- 
 nessed from the terrace. Immediately beneath 
 us lay a wide expanse of sea — real green salt sea. 
 " Here, Joanna," would Elphine say to me, 
 *' come hither, and let me introduce you to my 
 show-room, let me point out to you every thing 
 worthy of note. As dear papa would say, first 
 look at this clear basin of salt water — as I should 
 say, cast your eyes into this magnificent mirror, 
 which is lovely in its calm humours, and sub- 
 lime in all. Then look at the town of Douglas, 
 reposing on the shore like a child relying on the 
 protection of its parent, and see dear little 
 Conisterre — there — I mean that little speck of 
 an island, which, to your unpractised eyes, ap- 
 pears merely a knot of rocks; but to me, who 
 know it when the tide is out, it seems — stay, 
 what shall I compare it to.'^ to a finished co- 
 quette, who just deigns to glance at her mirror, 
 
CONISTERRE. 75 
 
 the sea, and finding herself interesting in all 
 views, allows it to come nearer and nearer, and 
 to clothe her in a beautiful robe much finer and 
 far more delicate than the most bride-like gauze. 
 See how the light foam leaps and plays on those 
 jagged and irregular rocks, as if it delighted to 
 frolic around them, — if I had my papa's teles- 
 cope's—she flew to the octagon, and returning 
 continued, — " yes, now I can see distinctly ; fix 
 your eye, Joanna, on the highest point of 
 Conisterre, — well, what do you see r ^^ 
 
 " Nothing but a mass of rocks, gradually 
 lessenino; and lessening;, till now I can see only 
 the very topmost point." 
 
 '' Ah ! you are a sad dullard ; the dancing 
 foam has blinded your eyes : but Til tell you 
 what I fancy I always see, and what was once 
 seen there. Let us go first, however, into the 
 Octagon ; 'tis no ghost story I liave for your ear, 
 
 E 2 
 
76 CONISTERRE. 
 
 though I believe my papa would rather have 
 endured one than the sight he declares he once 
 witnessed from this terrace. 
 
 " I cannot vouch for the truth of the story, 
 for on that evening I was particularly engaged. 
 You have seen something of Conisterre ; but the 
 tide was rising even when first you looked at 
 it, therefore you must take my assurance that 
 at low water Conisterre is a very tempting sort 
 of fortress, just the sort of place for a young 
 lady to choose to adventure ; — not sufficiently 
 distant to alarm her, but yet quite inaccessible 
 enoujih to render access a tolerable achieve- 
 ment. Well, about three years ago a girl was 
 walking on the sands, and saw that the water 
 was unusually low. ' Ah !' thought she, •• my 
 wishes are at last granted ; behold Conisterre 
 lying as if patiently expecting my approach, 
 ril go ; — I am determined to have a tropliy 
 
CONISTERRE. 77 
 
 from those rocks this very night/ On she flew ; 
 the sands were at first firm, and, oh ! so cool, 
 refreshing, and inviting ! — and the islet looked 
 «o calmly sublime and grand. ' 'Twill be a 
 fine thing to stand on that pinnacle,' thought 
 she, ' and spout Byron's lines on solitude/ 
 The sand was now becoming rather damp — 
 dampish she called it ; 'twas but a step more 
 and she would be on the rocks ; — three bounds 
 more, and she was there ! Yes, there, Joanna, 
 where I this moment pointed ! She stood with 
 a sort of mixed pleasure viewing herself the 
 solo occupant of the dreary isle. To be sure 
 it was but a glance from the shore; — she 
 could see people promenading on the sands, — 
 she could see, aye, I dare say she looked 
 at Fort Anne, and thought what a fine object 
 it was in the distance ! 
 
 " I understand she climbed to the top ; and 
 
78 CONISTERRE. 
 
 when there what do you think she saw ? No 
 new weed to add to her collection, not even 
 a shell to reward her unparalleled attempt. 
 I am well assured she thought not of spoil or 
 trophies ; for soon the feeling possessed her 
 mind that the tide was fast flowing in. Down 
 she bounded ; — 'twas too late, — Conisterre was 
 again floating in the sea ; in her fright she 
 thought it floated on the sea. She surely 
 moved ; the tide could not be so rapid — so 
 unusually, so unnaturally rapid. It was with 
 great effort that she checked her screams and 
 tears : but, I am informed, she did check both, 
 and had the courage to try the water; but 
 being presently taken off" her feet, she was 
 thankful to be thrown back on the rocks.* 
 There she gradually recovered possession of 
 
 * Since the date of this story a very appropriate " Tower of 
 Kefuge " has been built upon this i^slet. 
 
("ONISTEKRE. 79 
 
 her mind— she forced it to be cahii. She tsaid 
 to herself, ' There are numbers of people on 
 the sands; they will see me, and surely they 
 will put off for me. Then boats must pass, 
 and the men must perceive me, therefore I 
 may be calm/ Thus comforting herself she 
 gradually ascended the naked, barren cluster 
 of rocks, till, at last, she found herself obliged 
 to mount the one last. How looked Fort 
 Anne then, think you ? On the terrace stood 
 dear papa with his telescope, the very telescope 
 you had at your eye this moment, Joan/'' 
 " And you, Elphine, where were you ?" 
 " I, my dear ? Oh ! I was on Conisterre !'' 
 " Good Heavens ! You ? How did you 
 escape ?" 
 
 " Listen. I stood there, trembling, shiver- 
 ing, fearing. Yes, my dear, fear would creep 
 in as I saw myself driven to the last retreat 
 
80 CONISTERRE. 
 
 Another round of seconds, and I should be 
 forced to the pinnacle. What I felt I cannot 
 tell you, — 'tis impossible. And then to think 
 I was there through a wayward, wilful freak ; 
 for no good purpose, but to gratify a senseless 
 whim. There was I to be washed away in the 
 sight of hundreds of good people, my father too 
 in view ! Oh ! Joanna, his affection for me rose 
 to my mind, adding the strongest bitter to the 
 potion of death I had so unconsciously pre- 
 pared myself — that good father little dreaming 
 in what jeopardy was Elphine ! Another too 
 I knew could not be far distant. Do you 
 know, Joan,"" continued she, changing her 
 serious tone to one of sprightly indifference, 
 •' do you know, I was a good deal surprised 
 tliree years ago by seeing your old friend, 
 Mr. Heneage ?'' 
 
 " My old friend, Elphine?'' 
 
COXISTEKIIE. 81 
 
 " Well, oLir friend. He was here for the 
 shooting season ; and, meeting papa at a dinner, 
 remembered the name, I suppose, for he called 
 the next day ; and on that one eventftd day I 
 knew he was dining at Castle Mona — and, 
 oh ! how I wished to see him return, feeling 
 sure he would pass along the sands, as he had 
 promised to come to us in the evening. I 
 hoped he would distinguish me. What good 
 resolutions did I make and re-make in that hour, 
 should he be destined to deliver me; — reso- 
 lutions similar to those I formed on the ' break- 
 fast morning,' at school, and, alas ! nearly as 
 soon forgotten. He did return — I saw him — 
 I saw the brown horse which had so often stood 
 pawing at Fort Anne while his lazy master lin- 
 gered. How both man and horse seemed then 
 to linger, as if in mockery of my death in the 
 midst of life ! In my impotent wrath I 
 
 E 5 
 
82 CONISTERRE. 
 
 shrieked, and was horribly answered by the 
 sea-gull wheeling round the rock. 
 
 " All was useless. I had arrived. at the top- 
 most point. Now feeling impatient and angry 
 with Mr. Heneage for not helping me ; — then 
 regretting, in bitterest repentance, the mood 
 which hurried me to anger at such an hour. 
 At last I saw a stir on the terrace. During 
 my fit of repentance, I conclude, Bruno or 
 his master had taken a freak for moving quicker, 
 for I cannot suppose I was insensible, as I 
 never lost the feeling of self-preservation. 
 Most likely my white dress prevented people 
 at Fort Anne from distinguishing me from the 
 foam ; and I certainly should have perished, 
 if some fishermen had not happily pulled past 
 tlie rock just as I became utterly exhausted. 
 They rowed me across the bay, and papa and 
 Mr. Heneage, who had just discovered there 
 
CONISTERRE. 83 
 
 was a group on Conisterre, received mc at thf 
 terrace steps— there," said Octavia, pointing to 
 the steps, which, vacant, and covered with 
 sunshine, offered a full contrast to the alarming 
 scene she had been describing. 
 
 She abruptly concluded her story, and re- 
 mained in silence with her eyes on the terrace 
 steps, as if she again saw them bear her up to 
 the house — to the home she had so lately 
 thought lost to her for ever. 
 
 "And what said Mr. Heneage, Octavia?" 
 
 " He !" said she starting; " oh ! he seemed 
 incapable of speaking that night, and, next 
 day, he reprobated my imprudence in round 
 terms. But let us return to the conservatory." 
 
 We went; — yet Octavia was listless. It was 
 in vain that her flowers shed their rich perfume 
 — vain that her birds welcomed her in strains 
 of delighted recognition. Seated on a low 
 
84 CONISTERRE. 
 
 chair, she hung her head and hands in de- 
 spondency. I saw once more before me the 
 Elphine of former days. Hitherto, at Fort 
 Anne, she had been a useful, ministering friend, 
 but this evening she entirely relapsed, and 
 showed that the spirit of restless discontent had 
 merely slumberc^d. I again found her queru- 
 lous, impatient, unreasonable; and she could 
 give no cause for such a change. To the 
 Major's anxious inquiries, she was " quite well," 
 though the tears, which would start, negatived 
 her petulant assertion. Her changed manner 
 threw an unhappy tone over our spirits for 
 the evening ; and when, in a voice half expos- 
 tulatory, half jesting, I tried to rally her from 
 her humour, she answered me in a manner 
 so totally different from any I had lately been 
 used to observe in her, that I was glad to 
 escape to my own room. 
 
CONISTEURE. 85 
 
 The next morning Octavia was evidently 
 sorry for her wayward conduct the preceding 
 evening ; but hers was no bending spirit ; — 
 she could not brincr herself to make anv ac- 
 knowledgment ; neither could she (as some do 
 in such cases) lavish additional attention on 
 the neglected object. She rather avoided me, 
 and it was to the happy entrance of an acci- 
 dental visitor that we owed a re-instalment of 
 comfortable feelings. 
 
86 CONFESSION. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CONFESSION. 
 
 " J'avoue que la sensibilite coute cher quelquefois ; mais 
 c'est une si bonne chose, qu'on ne sauroit trop la payer." 
 
 From this time I saw plainly Octavia was very 
 little changed. I had delighted, on my first 
 arrival, in believing her the most sunny-hearted 
 creature that ever trod the earth ; but a few 
 short days convinced me of my error; nay, 
 so obstinate was the disease, that I despaired 
 of any cure. She would argue her humour as 
 resolutely as possible ; her chief point, however, 
 
CONFESSION. 87 
 
 being an assertion that though when unhappy 
 she was more miserable than her fellow-crea- 
 tures, — " yet ivhen happy, Joanna ! oh ! when 
 happy, who so blessed as I am ? Not you, 
 my dear, with that calm face, w4iich seems to 
 say, ' nothing can ruffle me ; here I am at cool 
 temperate, I never rise to fever heat — I 
 
 never sink to ' Oh I here comes papa, 
 
 and, by the pursing up of his lips, I know- 
 he has some pleasant news for us. What 
 have you got in that left hand, papa ? I 
 must see it," and like a spoiled child she 
 hung about him till she obtained her wish. 
 ''A prize! a prize! Joanna; — tickets for a 
 Fancy ball. Oh ! good, kind papa, — how shall 
 I say thank you ? My dear Joanna, how 
 stands the thermometer now ? — risino;, risinof, 
 I see, in consequence of these welcome tickets V 
 She tossed one towards me ; it was for a Fancy 
 
88 COXFESSION\ 
 
 ball at Castle ^lona. " I see," said Elphine, 
 " we have twelve days for preparation ; what 
 say you ? — shall we take a trip to Liverpool 
 for dresses ? Papa, will you be our escort ?" 
 
 A few days were necessary to subdue the 
 unusual excitement into which these tickets 
 threw her. We were sitting one morning in 
 the Octagon, calmly arranging for the hundred 
 and first time as what we should go, when 
 she exclaimed, " I wish Brooke Heneage were 
 here, he has more genuine taste tlian any 
 of the foolish, flattering set we have had per- 
 plexing us lately. I wonder in what character 
 he would advise me to go : something quiet, 
 gentle, and unnatural, — for quiet and gentle 
 I am not, and never can be."" 
 
 It was the first time she had mentioned Mr. 
 Heneage since the relation of her Conisterre 
 adventure ; and as I had an idea that it was 
 
CONFESSION. 89 
 
 the recollection of his advice on her imprudence 
 which had thrown her into the wayward humour 
 she had shown that evening, I had carefully 
 avoided mentioning his name. Now, however, 
 she was in a most reasonable mood, and I 
 thought it a good opportunity for probing her 
 little heart. " And what does it signify, Oc- 
 tavia, how Mr. Heneage would wish to see 
 you dressed ? I thought on Monday you had 
 resolved to be Lydia Languish to please Mr. 
 Dalrymple, and, on Tuesday, you said you 
 would go as Diana, to gratify Sir Henry 
 Howard. I fear you are a little flirt to agree 
 with so many." 
 
 " Oh ! I only agree to disagree with them. — 
 I am perfectly undecided," continued she, 
 twisting some gold fringe over her arm. 
 
 " Undecided !" repeated I, smiling, " respect- 
 ing what do you mean.'^ — your dress, or your 
 husband.?" 
 
90 COKFESSION. 
 
 " Pshaw !" said she; but after a little cir- 
 cumlocution I learnt from her that Mr. Heneage 
 liad not changed his character; and I feared, 
 from her account, he thought hers but little 
 altered. Octavia acknowledged that when he 
 first called at Fort Anne, he made himself 
 very agreeable, and used to let Bruno stand 
 waiting at the door a most unreasonable time ; 
 but by degrees his visits shortened. 
 
 " About the time of your accident, Elphine 
 — did he neglect you then ?" 
 
 " No ! I cannot say so — he certainly was 
 attentive just then; for though he scolded me 
 for being so thoughtless, I believe he was 
 rather anxious for my recovery. I had spiained 
 my ancle a little, and was desired to lie on 
 the sofa, and he used to read to me, and 
 sometimes was rather agreeable — but — but — 
 he was very touchy, and did not like any 
 
CONFESSIOX. 91 
 
 one else to be agreeable to me, I suppose ; 
 for, if Tilly Dalrymple were with me, he would 
 sit as silent as possible, and never join our 
 conversation ; and I had a right to talk to him 
 if I pleased. Then Sir Henry Howard was here 
 a good deal ; but Mr. Heneage did not fancy 
 his society either; — in short, he was a most 
 unreasonable person, and it was evident he 
 (lid not care much for my feelings, or he 
 would not have frightened me as he did one 
 morning. Do not scold, Joanna, and Fll tell 
 you how it was. 
 
 " One day, after I had recovered from my 
 sprain, I had set out to seek bilberries on the 
 Head, and, by accident, I met him. Well, he 
 was in one of his most agreeable humours, 
 though I recollect he contrived to give me a 
 gentle lecture for protesting I believed in fate, 
 and tliat my fate was to be drowned ; but it 
 
92 CONFESSION. 
 
 was a short one, and I bore it so well, that 
 liis honour felt encouraged to send his gun 
 home, and help me to gather bilberries. On 
 we went, sometimes gathering, but oftener 
 idling, and, altogether, we were in danger 
 of having a vastly insipid morning. He turned 
 the conversation entirely his own way, and it 
 was by no means complimentary ; but it was 
 soothing, cheering, almost tender. I began 
 to think him vulnerable, and then the spirit 
 of mischief possessed me. We returned by the 
 low walk, and, unluckily met Sir Henry How- 
 ard and that simpleton Dairy m pie. Imagine us 
 so encountered ! — Brooke carrying my bilberry 
 basket on one arm, and I leaning on the other. 
 " I almost think it was the first time we had so 
 walked : well, do you know, even Tilly Dal- 
 rymple looked quizzical, and Sir Henry did 
 not scruple to banter us. Now pray do not 
 
CONFESSION. 93 
 
 be angry, Joanna, but without waiting for 
 Mr. Heneage to relieve me from their notice, 
 I foolishly exclaimed, '"• Oh ! I am so glad we 
 have met you, 1 am sure Mr. Heneage will be 
 thankful to be relieved from the two burdens I 
 have imposed on him," and instantly separating 
 my arm from his, I joined j\Ir. Dalrymple, who 
 of course was charmed at this preference. 
 Really, Joan, I do not think I meant exactly to 
 hurt Mr. Heneage ; I was partly annoyed by 
 their quizzing, and partly afraid lest Mr. He- 
 neage should think I held liim too highly, and 
 altogether I spoke thoughtlessly. The moment 
 I had relinquished his arm, I regretted it ; but 
 what could be done ? I could not take it ajrain, 
 neither could I pick up the unfortunate bilberry 
 basket, which I every moment expected to see 
 him hurl at my feet ; but no such thing — he 
 very calmly raised his hat, and bidding me good 
 
94 COXFESSIOX. 
 
 morning, added he would leave the bilberries at 
 Fort Anne ; then closely compressing his lips, he 
 fixed his eyes steadily on my two beaux, and 
 bowing coolly, left us. Perhaps you will think 
 he cut rather a ridiculous figure with his bil- 
 berry-basket — quite the contrary, I protest, — he 
 struck into the next walk, descended the rocks, 
 and I have no doubt had deposited his basket be- 
 fore I had recovered from my astonishment : nay, 
 if he had lingered till I recovered from my self- 
 abasement, the poor basket would never have 
 arrived ; but look/' cried she, tossing a basket 
 on the table, " that is it!" 
 
 " O Octavia, be thoughtful for once, and tell 
 me how did you meet again ? What frightened 
 you ? " 
 
 *' AVhy his lips pressed so closely together, 
 made me think someway — not that I had any 
 particular reason — but I was afraid lest bad 
 
COXFESSIOX. 95 
 
 consequences should arise between the gentle- 
 men : and I felt that I was unworthy that ^Ir. 
 Heneage should risk himself for me; no- 
 thing, however, happened, and he soon left the 
 island." 
 
 " Did you never see him again ? " 
 
 " Yes," said she, hesitating and twirling 
 the basket round, as if she felt either absent or 
 ashamed, " yes, he called again ; but mal- 
 heureiisement ^ Sir Harry and his sister were 
 liere, and I thought I would not let them see 
 me bend, so I played off Sir Harry in grand 
 style." 
 
 " Dearest Octavia ! and did you do this, car- 
 ing for the man ? " 
 
 " Why perhaps I did care for liim, but I 
 do not know; lie comported himself in sucli a 
 manner that morning, that positively I cannot 
 bring myself to forgive him. He was so vastly 
 
96 CONFESSION. 
 
 polite to Miss Howard, and so vastly civil tome, 
 that it was quite insufferable.'*' 
 
 " Was he careless — negligent?"" 
 
 " No, no, I tell you he was so cool and col- 
 lected, and easy : his behaviour tended to put 
 ]Miss Howard and me so exactly on an equalitv, 
 that altoo:ether nobodv would have thouo^ht he 
 had ever cared three straws for me." 
 
 " And it may be he never did,'"* said I, mis- 
 chievously. 
 
 " May be not," replied she, quickly, " but 
 be that as it may, he sat a very reasonable time ; 
 (actually, if he had made a hurried call I could 
 have borne it better;) but no such thing— he 
 stayed chatting with us all, as pleasantly as pos- 
 sible, till Sir Harry and IVIiss Howard rose to 
 depart, and then he made a long leave-taking 
 speech, and for the first time I discovered that 
 it was a farewell call. I cannot tell you, Joan, 
 
CONFESSION. 97 
 
 how my heart beat. " Farewell ! " thought I, — 
 " and before these people too — you might have 
 waited !" but no — he said something about 
 " compliments to Major Elphinstone," which 1 
 scarcely understood ; for I had a desperate 
 struggle with myself as to whether I should 
 ask him to stav, or should look as if I wished 
 liim to stay ; but happily I got over it 
 without losino[ mv dignitv. I rang; the bell, 
 stood and curtsied with all the apparent 
 ease in the world, and he went and handed Miss 
 Howard to the curricle !" 
 
 " Poor Elphine !" said I. 
 
 " Ah ! you would indeed have said ' Poor 
 Elphine,' could you have seen me for the 
 next few days. Papa was out on island 
 business, and I was alone for a whole 
 dreary week. But come, Joanna, now for 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 COXFESSIOX. 
 
 our dresses ; you are allowing mc, a for- 
 dinaire, to talk of self, when we ouglit 
 to be studvino^ effect." 
 
KIRK BRADDOX. 99 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 KIJIK BRADDOX. 
 " We ask advice, but ^ve mean approbation." 
 
 Again and again Octavia changed her mind, 
 and with it the dress with wliich she had in 
 fancy clothed herself. She had set her mind 
 on our being two characters in conjunction. 
 If she could have been satisfied with clioosing 
 one for herself and anotlier for me, the task 
 
 f2 
 
100 KIRK BRADDOX. 
 
 uoulcl have been comparatively easy ; but we 
 were to be inseparables. At one time He- 
 lena and Hermia ; but then she discovered 
 tliat there was nothing distinguishing about 
 them, unless indeed we were to wear Cherry 
 blossoms, and ten to one but the crowd would 
 fancy it Orange bloom, and stamp us bride and 
 
 bridesmaid. 
 
 How we ransacked Shakspeareand Scott, and 
 
 the History of England ! For a whole day we 
 were to be Beatrice and Hero ; " we could dress 
 th.e characters so well ; '** but what would they 
 be without a Benedict ? Could she bring her- 
 self to call in the help either of Sir Harry or Mr. 
 Dalrymple ? Fortunately she was firm against 
 that indiscretion — no, we would stand alone ; 
 we would be two-together-two, and at last we 
 resolved to go as IVIanx peasants. It was a 
 pretty thought, and one that pleased Major 
 
KIRK BRADDON. 101 
 
 Elphinstone, who, as well as ourselves, kept it so 
 secret, that Sir Henry and Mr. Dalrymple 
 expected on the very niglit to see us as Ro- 
 salind and Celia. 
 
 The dress of the IManx peasantry is very 
 pretty and picturesque, so that allowing for the 
 excusable difference of texture in which we 
 indulged ourselves, we found it miglu be worked 
 up to very good taste. Octavia was charmed 
 widi its simplicity : — " there would be no pa- 
 rade, nothing heavy, no folds to keep in order, 
 — adieu to gold fringe and all ornaments, and 
 welcome ease and simplicity !" 
 
 The Manx girls usually wear a short petti- 
 coat of grey woollen stuff, sometimes Cjuilted, 
 but always full ; a short jacket, or, as they call 
 it, bed-gown, is tlie upper garment, and this, 
 which is generally made of striped gingliam, 
 we determined should be made of pink satin ; 
 
102 KIRK BRADDON. 
 
 and the petticoat, to be as full as was required, 
 could be made of nothing so appropriate as 
 Irish ])oplin. Such a dress would not now be 
 uncommon, for tlie Swiss costume lately in- 
 troduced nearly resembles that of our neigh- 
 bours the Manx, but at that time it v/as cer- 
 tainly a charming novelty. 
 
 'J'he arranging of our head-dresses was a 
 more difficult task ; Octavia rather objected to 
 appearing with only her own beautiful hair, 
 but as the j\Ianx have a style peculiar to them- 
 selves of braidino^ their tresses in one straiorht 
 band across the forehead, entirely from temple 
 to temple, and as it was decidedly character- 
 istic and becoming to both of us, we deter- 
 mined to adopt it. Much labour had our pa- 
 tient attendants to train our rebellious locks, but 
 before the week was passed it was pronounced 
 a perfectly successful alteration, and we wore 
 
KIllK BRADDON. 103 
 
 our low bands as easily as we had previously 
 worn the flowing ringlets. Nothing now re- 
 mained but something for the hands. 
 " We cannot go empty-handed," said I. 
 " Nor is there any need," replied Octavia. 
 " Let me see, the ball will be on the 30th of 
 August, — bilberries will be ripe ; what say 
 you to carrying them in ^lanx baskets ? all 
 the world knows the IVIanx baskets are truly 
 pretty. We will go this evening to the old 
 basket maker's at Kirk Braddon, and order 
 some very light ones, — though, on second 
 thoughts, you shall sell shells and sea- weed." 
 
 Every thing prospered during the day, and 
 being a delightful evening, to Kirk Braddon 
 we went, wiiere we found the old basket-maker 
 seated on a mat of liis own fabricating, busily 
 employed on a set of what are known as mar- 
 ket baskets. These are made of a rush, 
 
104 KIRK BR ADDON. 
 
 peculiar to the island, and the better to carry 
 provisions, are shaped at the bottom to stand 
 on the ground, something between what chil- 
 (lien make in paper and agree to call boats, 
 and the carpenter's flag-baskets. I agreed 
 that they would suit us admirably ; and after 
 orders to make them very light, but not 
 to lose their characteristic shape, Octavia be- 
 gan to talk to the old man of his family 
 and condition ; she gradually brought him to 
 speak Manx to her, and as she had already 
 a smattering of the language, she determined 
 to use all her endeavours to learn, at least 
 sufficient to jabber on the eventful evening. 
 The basket maker, who at first felt rather shy 
 at speaking his gipsy like jargon to so tine a 
 lady, soon became delighted with her affability; 
 and Elphine returned home with a tolerable 
 stock of every-day questions and answers. She 
 
Kli.'K IJR ADDON'. 105 
 
 told the old man, at parting, we should go 
 again soon that I might have a lesson, but I 
 was exceedingly dull, and never got beyond 
 '* Kish tha ju ?" and " Bra-bra-guda myho.*' 
 As soon as we reached home, Octavia em- 
 ployed herself in committing to paper, in her 
 own orthography, the sentences she had learnt ; 
 and a few evenings afterwards we went again 
 to the romantic village, where she acquired, 
 not only an addition to her vocabulary, but 
 also to her dress. The first time we had 
 visited the basket-maker his wife was from 
 home, but while we loitered this evening, she 
 returned from her daily occupation, and EI- 
 phine"'s quick eye soon noted that she wore a 
 most lucky hat. Now this hat was nothing 
 more nor less than the large flat hat worn 
 fifty years ago by our grand motliers, but now 
 seldom seen, except on old market women. 
 
 ¥ 3 
 
103 KIRK EllADDON. 
 
 It was nearly round, with a little low crown 
 set thickly round with short bows, and alto- 
 gether being made of rusty black silk, sadly 
 soiled, would never have caught my attention ; 
 — not so Octavia, her eyes rivetted on the old 
 woman's head, she exclaimed, " Ah ! nous vo'da 
 ail comhle ! the only thing wanting; behold us 
 now, Joanna, Sivvaed. cap-a-pied ; the hat-- the 
 hat alone was wanting !" and to the astonishment 
 of the old man, Elphine bought the hat for a few 
 shillings. 
 
 " Shillings — English too," murmured he as 
 he sat wondering at the young lady's whim 
 and generosity. 
 
 Elphine's head was well nigh turned before 
 the much-thought-of 30th of August. If she 
 walked she danced, if she slept she dreamt, 
 if she spoke she sang ; in fact, her heart 
 was full of this Fancy ball, and her whole 
 
KIIIK BRAPDOX. 107 
 
 lieart shone in her face. A piece of news 
 which I expected would complete the delirium^ 
 quieted her wonderfidly. This was no other 
 than, that Captain Heneage and his brother 
 were expected to arrive a few days previous 
 to the 30th, on a visit to Lord Henry Murray, 
 and of course we should see them at the ball. 
 No sooner did she know this, than Octavia was 
 a changed creature ; she seemed literally sobered; 
 she dreaded, vet wished to see I\Ir. Heneage. 
 She longed to make her peace with him ; but 
 I suspect she was so well aware of the interest 
 he had in her affections, that she feared even 
 herself should discover that as a motive. How 
 often did she wonder in what character he 
 would go, how he would like hers, how he 
 would meet her.? Dress no longer occupied 
 her entire thoughts; well was it that she had 
 made every requisite preparation, for she no 
 
108 KIKK BRADDON 
 
 longer inspected the sit of her jacket, or 
 of her petticoat ; no more walks to Kirk 
 Braddon, no more lessons in Manx, no more 
 practising steps ; and as all this had been 
 done before, it was quite as well for her 
 to take a little rest. I began, however, to 
 fear they were not destined to meet, for day 
 followed day, and no Brooke Heneage ap- 
 peared. Octavia'^s greatest pleasure seemed 
 now to sit at her Octagon window and watch 
 the arrival of the packets from England : — alas ! 
 packet succeeded packet, but no interesting 
 arrival. The evening of the 29th found her 
 still at her post. I was sitting in the room 
 stringing sea-weed berries for our necklaces. 
 *' Jane tells me," said I, " that these would 
 look better with caps; I fancy not, — but what 
 do you think Octavia?'"* 
 '' Eh ?" said she, starting. 
 
KIRK UIIADDOX. 109 
 
 " Should you prefer caps ?'* 
 
 " Mercy, no ! what could we do with them 
 under those flat hats ? but come here — quick, 
 quick.'" 
 
 I laughed at her abstraction, and should 
 perhaps have rallied her on it, had she not 
 called my attention to what entirely absorbed 
 hers. It was the English packet full in sight ; 
 the evening wa:s fine, and the deck seemed 
 crowded with passengers. Something scarlet 
 being visible, Elphine decided that the He- 
 neages were of the group, but the vessel was 
 still at some distance, and Major Elphinstone 
 engrossed the telescope on the terrace : — when 
 it neared, we could distinctly see each indi- 
 vidual that composed the party — male and 
 female thronged the deck. As the packet 
 passed along, Elphine leaned heavily on my 
 shoulder and lowered her eyes, as if she 
 
110 KIRK BRADDON. 
 
 thought her feelings would be read by those 
 on deckj among whom I recognized the two 
 brothers so long looked for. Brooke stood for- 
 ward looking intently at Fort Anne, on which 
 he was evidently remarking to a lady at his 
 side — he fixed the telescope in her hand, and 
 at length actually pointed to the Fort. " Ah ! 
 he bows, Elphine, he sees the Major ! — now 
 they have passed." 
 " Thank goodness !" 
 
 " That he has arrived, or passed, Elphine ?"" 
 " Oh ! passed," said she, raising herself and 
 sitting down quietly to my beads. " My dear, 
 these must be capped, they must indeed ; 
 I wonder I could be so blind : but to make 
 amends, I'll send Jane immediately into the 
 town, for it will be a tedious affair, and to- 
 morrow morning you know we shall be engaged 
 gathering our Bilberries." From the moment 
 
KIRK BllADDON. HI 
 
 she was assured of Mr. Heneage''s arrival, 
 Octavia resumed her interest in her dress and 
 appointments : this evening she tried on her 
 pretty IManx dress, and it was not partiality 
 which made us think, and the fond father de- 
 clare, that there Mould not be so charming a 
 figure at Castle Mona. 
 
 " Ma'am," said the maid, " did you ever see 
 so sweet a dress ? did you ever f 
 
 " Why, Jane, I am very sorry to disappoint 
 you, but I really must say I once did." 
 
 " Oh ! not possible, ma'am, — I cannot believe 
 it, ma'am ; excuse me, but unless you could 
 tell me the pattern, and what it was made of, 
 I cannot by any possibility think it any way 
 possible." 
 
 " But then, Jane, I can tell you what it was 
 made of, — plain white gauze with white trim- 
 mings." 
 
112 KIRK BIIADDON. 
 
 " Oh ! poor, ma''am5 it never could any way 
 be compared with this lovely striped jacket," 
 urged the Abigail, going behind her mistress, 
 and retreating with her admiring eyes ri vetted 
 on the pretty creature before us. 
 
 " And yet, Jane,'' said I, " when I tell you 
 it was ■Miss Elphinstone who wore it, perhaps 
 you may conceive it was worthy of admira- 
 tion." 
 
 " Oh ! ma'am'"' — began she in reply. 
 
 " Ah ! that was the prettiest dress I ever 
 had," interrupted Elphine ; " I really think I 
 prefer white gauze to every thing." 
 
 " Except a train, and a black hat, my dear." 
 
 *' Oh ! chacune a S07i four — I have not got 
 to the black hat yet." 
 
 The next morning proved as pleasant as the 
 most anxious young lady could desire ; conse- 
 quently we spent it in filling Octavia's basket 
 
KIRK BRADDON. 113 
 
 with Bilberries, and in gathering some beau- 
 tiful specimens of Heath to decorate the little 
 grey hats. On returning home, Octavia's eye 
 instantly seized a card which lay on the hall 
 table. 
 
 " ]\Ir. Heneage's compliments, ma'am, and 
 he regretted vou were not at liome, for he 
 wished to introduce the young lady that was 
 with him." 
 
 '• What vouno; ladv, Jones .'*" 
 
 " He asked her for a card, ma'am, but she 
 said, ' No, as Miss Elphinstone does not know 
 me, better not, — we shall meet this evening.'"*** 
 
 The evening of the 30th was come ; the 
 sands to Castle Mona were lined with carriages 
 of various sorts and sizes. Many no sooner 
 had deposited their ])roper owners, than they 
 were hurried back to Douglas to fetch friends 
 or relations. Happy they who could claim 
 
11-i KIKK BPcADDON. 
 
 kindred with a carriage family ; still happier 
 those who owned one ! Major Elphinstone 
 went early, in compliment to the Duke ; his 
 daughter and myself preferred arriving later. 
 " Let us," said she, " see this medley to every 
 advantage — let the rooms be full — let us be 
 dazzled by the lights and the gaudy dresses — 
 let us have a view of them in action, — 'twill 
 be so tedious to go early and see them drop 
 in by degrees — to know that when theDewints 
 are arrived, the carriage will be just fifteen 
 minutes fetching the Lardners. I should never 
 lose the sensation of yawning the whole even- 
 ing; — no, no, we will be none of the spectators, 
 we mean to be actors." 
 
 When we were dressed, surveyed, approved, 
 and had given orders for the carriage, Elphine 
 appeared rather more fluttered than I anti- 
 cipated — " Oh, Joan, does not your heart 
 beat ?" 
 
KIRK BRADDOX. 115 
 
 '* Yes, a good deal ; but then I do not know 
 her Grace, and you do.'' 
 
 " As to that, her Grace will not trouble you 
 or any one else much. She is always at home 
 herself, and wishes every body to be the same ; 
 but I am so anxious about the young lady 
 with Brooke Heneage. How odd of her to 
 come with him this morning ! Why not have 
 waited till Lady Henry could come with her .^'' 
 
 " Perliaps she did not approve of his calling 
 on ]\Iiss Elphinstone alone. Who knows what 
 interest she may have in the gentleman .''" 
 
 "Ah! I had not thought much of that;" 
 and Octavia was silent till we had passed 
 Conisterre. " Beautiful Conisterre ! look Jo- 
 anna, how tranquil it lies — beautiful ! — beauti- 
 ful ! I do not think there will be any thing 
 more to my taste at this vaunted Fancy ball. 
 ril remember to tell you as we pass, on our 
 
116 KIRK BRADDON. 
 
 return, whether the dancing sliapes at Castle 
 ]Mona can bear comparison with those fleecy 
 waves, sporting round its rugged, yet mer- 
 ciful rocks. Though I never was a philo- 
 sopher, yet, when a child, it used to be a 
 favourite whim of mine to say to myself, 'I'll 
 remember so and so the next time I walk this 
 way, or the next time I read this book ;^ and 
 even now, I often wonder, when reading a work 
 with a friend, w^hat I shall think of such and 
 such passages when next I take up the volume. 
 Have you ever such fancies, Joan ? — but you, 
 I suppose, would term them notices of your 
 experience. Well, adieu to my fancies ; for 
 behold us at Castle Mona in reality." 
 
CASTLE MOX-A. 1 17 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CASTLE MOXA. 
 
 " Quelque baut qu'une beaute porte la tete, elle touche des 
 pieds a la terre,'' 
 
 The Duchess of Athol received her guests in 
 the saloon ; and there I was introduced to her. 
 She was in full court-dress, and welcomed Oc- 
 tavia with particular attention, complimented 
 us on our dresses, and passed us to ]\lajor El- 
 phinstone, wlio was standing near her Grace, 
 waiting to convoy us to the ball-room. At the 
 
118 -CASTLE MONA. 
 
 door we were met by the Duke, and Lord 
 Henry Murray. His Grace, as *"' a Scotch 
 laird," rubbed his hands joyously to see so 
 many " bonnie lasses," and gaily touched 
 Elphine's cheek to see if she were rouged. 
 His graver brother whispered something in 
 her ear, which called up a brighter blush : 
 but, quickly recovering herself, she gracefully 
 presented her basket, and made her speech to 
 his Grace, requesting him to handsel her bil- 
 berries. The Duke was enraptured ; — her 
 dress, her fruit, her appearance, but, above 
 all, her Manx, charmed him. He snatched her 
 hand, and, leading her into the middle of the 
 . room, " A hall, a hall,'"* he cried, '' wha's for 
 a reel? A reel, mv bonnie lads and lasses, 
 what say ye .^" 
 
 In my life I never saw so charming a pic- 
 ture. Imagine a long gallery crowded with 
 
CASTLE MOXA. ] 19 
 
 people, dressed in the most picturesque style, 
 as if vieing with the still quainter dresses of 
 the figures which covered the walls. The 
 Duke, a lively mortal, with just sufficient 
 youth in his looks to contradict his fatlierly 
 dress and manners, drew the lovely Elphine, 
 sadly loth, into the most conspicuous part of 
 the room, her bilberry basket hanging from 
 her arm ; while, from the suddenness of the 
 movement, her shaiity hat (as Captain Heneage 
 called it) had dropped from her head, and lav 
 on the floor. The very hat was a necessary 
 object in the group; — exactly so would I wish 
 to have Elphine pourtrayed — her head turned 
 back, looking childishly anxious for the pretty 
 grey hat. 
 
 I had seen Mr. Heneage the moment I en- 
 tered the room, through a vista of the clus- 
 
120 CASTLE MOXA. 
 
 tering heads ; he was standing nearly opposite 
 to the door, beside an old lady in a hoop and 
 furbelows. He was one of the first to clap 
 his hands at the Duke's merry action, and flew 
 forward to snatch the hat ; — Sir Henry Howard 
 did the same ; — but Mr Heneage, by dexter- 
 ously sliding towards the prize, seized it, and 
 offered it to Miss Elphinstone. She took it ; 
 and, without speaking, presented her bilberries. 
 Her timid glance was a tacit enreaty for for- 
 giveness; and as such he seemed to interpret 
 it ; and, without a word on either side, both 
 appeared to feel that all was forgotten. 
 
 The ball was opened by a reel of four — the 
 Duke and Miss Elphinstone, Sir Henry Howard 
 and Miss Murray. During the dance Mr. 
 Heneage renewed his acquaintance with me; 
 and requested leave to introduce his friend 
 
CASTLE MOXA. 121 
 
 ]\Irs. Margery Brackenbury to me, and imme- 
 diately led me to the ancient dame with whom 
 I had first observed him. She was standing 
 at the top of the room, fanning herself with an 
 enormous fan of peacock''s feathers. I was 
 struck, as I approached her, by her very 
 starched appearance. 
 
 " How old is she ?" whispered my compa- 
 nion. 
 
 " Sixty," returned I ; though the bright 
 black eye contradicted my guess. 
 
 " She calls herself sweet twenty-two," said 
 he ; " but we know better." 
 
 She was a woman rather above the common 
 height ; of an amazingly stiff figure, which she 
 held as erect as possible. She stood ; her arms 
 held a respectful space from her stiff pom- 
 padour gown, which also seemed in fear; for 
 it stood at an awful distance from her fio-ure. 
 
 o 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 CASTLE MOXA. 
 
 Slie wore high-heeled shoes, too, whicli caused 
 her to lean a little forward ; and the grotesque 
 of this position was increased by her regular 
 motion of fanning. For worlds could not I 
 Ivave checked a laugh. Oh ! she was by far 
 the most bizarre creature in the room ; — her 
 moutli, drawn down into the most formal puck- 
 erings, was constantly moving nervously, as if 
 to prevent all indecorous smiles ; — her rouged 
 face was marked with the lines of age ; she wore 
 a lofty head dress a rantique^ but what asto- 
 
 ni 
 
 ished me most was a lara;e, modern shawl 
 
 s^^ 
 
 which was thrown over her arm ; and which, 
 being neither new nor handsome, seemed quite 
 out of place with her dress. 
 
 When Mr. Heneage had with the utmost 
 gravity pronounced tlie words, " Mrs. Mar- 
 gery Brackenbury — Miss Fane," I fancied the 
 name had certainly been famihar to me before ; 
 
CASTI.E MOXA. 123 
 
 but I bad not time to recollect, for the old 
 lady promptly opened the conversation by a 
 splenetic comparison between the entertain- 
 ments of the present day, and those when she 
 was a ffirl, Mr. Heneag-e scemino:to take a mis- 
 chievous pleasure in drawing her into an argu- 
 ment. " Why, my good lady, you surely do not 
 maintain that you had any meetings to compare 
 with this ! Look at this delightful mass of 
 happy faces, all speaking countenances, say- 
 ing in most eloquent English, * I mean to be 
 happy the livelong night, and I advise you to 
 be the same.' *" 
 
 " I only see,'' said Mrs. Margery, " a crowd 
 of people, who seem to think of nothing but 
 elbowing each other for tlie best places ; all is 
 vulgar haste, and selfishness, and art: not an 
 atom of ease is there in this immense room. Look 
 first at the group now dancing, how excessively 
 
 G 2 
 
124 CASTLE MONA. 
 
 out of character they are ! — a peer, who would 
 shine in a drawing-room, is making himself ri- 
 diculous by dancing a Scotch reel with a coun- 
 try girl, who is, however, the only one that has 
 exhibited a shadow of nature to-night, so I will 
 be merciful to her, and merely say the poor crea- 
 ture looks sadly out of place, and appears as if 
 slie would be thankful when that never-ending, 
 still-beginning reel is over. What think you, 
 madam ?" continued she, addressing a lady in 
 a Dalmatian dress, who now approached, lean- 
 ing: on the Knave of Hearts. 
 
 " O ! ma belle mere, let me introduce you to 
 Miss Fane, an old playfellow of mine,'' cried 
 Captain Heneage, for it was that worthy who 
 had chosen this ludicrous character. 
 
 " Ma belle mere !" I wondered wliich was to 
 prove the mother, the Dalmatian, or L'Antique. 
 
 Brooke guessed my perplexity, and taking 
 
CASTLE MOXA. 125 
 
 the hand of the former, said, " This lady is our 
 mother; to Mrs. Margery we claim but veiy 
 distant relationship — eh, Charles ? " 
 
 *' Not so very distant," replied the Captain ; 
 " Mrs. Margery and I were amusing ourselves, 
 671 voyage, by tracing it, and we made out we 
 were second cousins. I remember it perfectly, 
 because she said it was just near enough to make 
 marriage a sin, and therefore desirable." 
 
 The old maid vehemently disclaimed. 
 
 " Well, then, you thought so, and I said so,"' 
 persisted the rattlepate. 
 
 Mrs. iVIargery fanned herself violently, and 
 turned away witli Mrs. Heneage, descanting on 
 the degenerate morals and manners of the age, 
 not, however, till she had shot some most severe 
 glances at Captain Heneage. He flew after 
 her, to make his peace, and Brooke exclaimed, 
 *' Bless the merry Duke, how happy he seems. 
 
123 CASTLE MONA. 
 
 — do, Miss Fane, take pity on an envious 
 inorta), who longs to join that dancing set ; 
 come. " 
 
 Just, however, as he spoke, the reel ended, 
 and his Grace brouMit Octavia almost breath- 
 less to rest herself. 
 
 " Here, you beaux, I leave you to quarrel 
 for my charming ]\Ianx lassie ; make them all 
 talk Manx, my dear, — do not believe one of 
 their compliments, unless it is in real Manx. 
 Well, good bye ; — dance — I have set you an 
 excellent example. You can none of you beat 
 me at the Highland fling. j\Iiss Elphinstone 
 would not try, or else her dress is just the thing, 
 — eh ! — wha's this ? O Captain, what are 
 trumps ?'"" 
 
 " Hearts, if I turn up."" 
 
 " Eh ! very good, very good — must tell that 
 to the Duchess. Hearts indeed ! oh ! you 
 
CASTLE MON'A. 1:27 
 
 knave ! AV ell,' well, get rested as soon as yuu 
 can, for here is Sir Harry coming to claim 
 you, my bonnie lass, — sad knave that, sad 
 knave ! " 
 
 1 was sorry for this, and so I dare say was 
 Elphinc. I had quite calculated on Brooke 
 Heneage's asking her; however, she bore the 
 disappointment good humouredly, and joined 
 the set with Sir Plarry Howard. Brooke 
 offered his arm to me, and I saw he was expect- 
 ing that we were partners. 
 
 Elphine shone pre-eminent in this dance ; her 
 manners so correct, no elevation at having been 
 selected by the Duke; on the contrary, she 
 seemed sedulously careful to be ])articularly 
 on her guard to prove that she was not in- 
 toxicated by the flattering notice bestowed (;n 
 her. This was always the case with Miss El- 
 phinstone : like most proud people, she found 
 
128 CASTLE MOXA. 
 
 it easier to be meek, when others would be 
 elated, than agreeable when not excited. She 
 lived but in excitation ; like those flowers which 
 close their leaves when the sun's rays are with- 
 drawn, so she flagged and drooped and faded, 
 if not supplied with the sunshine of notice. It 
 was also observed in her that she was often 
 agreeable to her inferiors, when wayward, 
 and negligent to some, certainly her equals, 
 perhaps superiors. This natural trait probably 
 savoured more of those shared by the generality 
 of women, than many perceptible in Octavia's 
 character. It is one which may be seen in every 
 o-rade of life ; the Duchess, who would be 
 reserved to a Baroness, will be enchanting to 
 the country Gentleman''s lady ; so the Curate's 
 wife, in her turn, will move stiffly to the 
 rich farmer'*s wife, when the next moment 
 she hesitates not to stop and chat with the 
 
CASTLE MOXA, 120 
 
 sexton's. You may also observe mucli dif- 
 ference in the deportment of the sexes. I 
 c[uestion whether the farmer would have been 
 passed in the distant manner his wife was 
 noticed. Nay, the Baron himself familiarly 
 hands her Grace to her carriage, while liis 
 Lady is saluted w^ith a proud bend of nodding 
 plumes, — and all this is explained by one 
 w^ord — vanity. And have I not said that 
 our governess, Mrs. Manners, planted vanity 
 in the hearts of all her pupils, where the soil 
 was favourable. Alas ! that so rank a v>\.ed 
 should have been fostered as a garden plant, 
 when it ought to have been carefully rooted 
 up and eradicated from the heart. 
 
 When the dance was ended, and before 
 Brooke Heneage had an opportunity of joining 
 Octavia, Lady Henry Murray had introduced 
 her visitor, " Mrs. Margery Brackenbury,'" to 
 
 G 5 
 
130 CASTLE MONA. 
 
 her, and Elphiiie's quicker eye instantly dis- 
 covered what mine had not. 
 
 " Madge, my dear Madge, this is indeed 
 more happiness than I could have hoped for, 
 — O Joan, Joan, come and see our dear little 
 playfellow, Madge Brackenbury ! " 
 
 It was indeed that bonny girl shot up into a 
 full blown woman, whether lovely or not I 
 could hardly determine, for except her bright 
 o-lancing eye, every feature was disguised to 
 personify the old coquette, in IMadame Tus- 
 saud's collection of composition figures, which I 
 have before mentioned as having amused us 
 when at school, — on Madge they must have 
 made a strong impression, though not exactly 
 in Mrs. Manners's phrase, as " helps to his- 
 tory." Certainly she had succeeded entirely in 
 her attempt, and was confessedly the most ori- 
 ginal copy in the room ; the chalked wrinkles 
 
CASTLE MOXA. 131 
 
 on her youthful cheeks were evidently drawn 
 by an artist's hand, and Captain Heneage 
 vaunted how his opinion had been deemed in- 
 dispensable in declaring " when she was old 
 enough," and how he had mercilessly added 
 year upon year, knowing, as he laughingly 
 said, that there would still be left enough of 
 
 " Witchery, 
 When beamed tlie soul from her dark eye." 
 
 During the next dance, Madge and Octavia 
 were inseparable. In a shaded recess they >at 
 and talked volubly on the present, past, and 
 future. Octavia learnt that Miss Brackenbury 
 was visiting Mrs. Heneage, in Cumberland, 
 when the invitation from Lord Henry Mur- 
 ray arrived, and was easily prevailed on 
 
 to join the party in a trip to the sweet little 
 island. 
 
132 CASTLE MONA. 
 
 " The ball itself," said Madge, " was a great 
 inducement ; but nothing when compared 
 with meeting you, Elphine. Oh ! my dear 
 friend, I cannot tell you half the anxiety I 
 felt to know which was Fort Anne, and I could 
 not keep away from you this morning, though 
 Captain Heneage very much wished you not to 
 know me, or to know I was here, till this 
 evening ; however, it happened fortunately that 
 you were out, for I could not rest till I tried to 
 see you, and the attempt served to pass time. 
 Captain Heneage and Brooke said I should not 
 know you, and they were so artful as not 
 to tell me Miss Fane was here ; so seeing you 
 both dressed alike, I might have been de- 
 ceived into thinking you were sisters ; and 
 more than that," continued Madge, interrupt- 
 ing herself, in her old way, " more than that, 
 Brooke brought up an odd sort of gentleman as 
 
CASTLE MON'A. 133 
 
 Dr. Syntax, whom I guess he suborned to de- 
 clare that you \s-ere coming as Rosalind, so 
 that I hunted among the male creation, expect- 
 ing to see you en homme, but the moment, the 
 very moment you entered, I knew you ! Yes, 
 I am so pleased to think I knew your liair, 
 twisted as it is. My dear Elphine, how long is 
 it since I placed the shell-rose in your hair ? ' 
 
 Elphine's blushes were spared by Captain 
 Heneage, who came up, Dr. Syntax following 
 with a most rueful countenance. 
 
 " Ah !" cried chattering ]\[adge, '* here 
 comes my unknown ; now Til ask why he 
 persisted in declaring you were Rosalind ; " 
 but the Captain stopped her by presenting 
 Mr. Matthew Dairy m pie, who earnestly re- 
 quested the honour of Mrs. Margery Brackcn- 
 bury's hand in a minuet. Miss Brackenbury, 
 with all the ease of fashion, added to total 
 
134 CASTLE MONA. 
 
 ignorance of her partner, imu.ediately rose ; 
 and the worthy doctor offered her, with a pro- 
 found bow, the tip of his third finger. Captain 
 Heneage took Miss Elphinstone up the roon], 
 and, on his way, explained to her that he had 
 entrapped Tilly into this exhibition, by making 
 him believe it was at the express desire of the 
 Duchess. 
 
 " He was monstrously obstinate," continued 
 he, " and, for a long while, I actually de- 
 spaired of prevailing on him ; but, at last, I 
 carried my point by a coup-de-main. I led 
 him boldly up to her Grace, having first per- 
 suaded her she ou^^ht to have a screen ; and 
 trusting a good deal to her usual absence, 
 added to the extraordinary press of etiquette 
 on her hands, I got her to say * Yes, do now, 
 Tilly,' very distinctly, so here is he, poor 
 fellow, going to make a glorious exhibition, 
 
CASTLE MONA. 135 
 
 Avhile the Duchess thinks he is seeking her 
 screen. But that puts me in mind that / must 
 get it ; so excuse me a few njoments." 
 
 He very cavalierly left Miss Elphinstone 
 standiuiT alone : and thouo-h it was alone in 
 a crowd, she felt relieved when one of the 
 young ]Murrays joined her; though, a moment 
 after, she wished he had not done so. The first 
 question, of course, was " Are you engaged .^" 
 and though she longed to say she meant to 
 sit still during the next set, sne knew it was 
 a useless postponement ; so once more had said, 
 " no," when Brooke Heneage hastened with 
 me to put the same question to her. He 
 engaged her for the following set, and kept 
 near her. V^ery soon the motley mass was 
 seen clearing away from the centre of the 
 room ; gradually a space was formed, every 
 one appearing naturally to file off, and yet 
 
136 CASTLE MONA. 
 
 all looking their inquiries of " What is to be 
 clone?" 
 
 It was a question, however, which none 
 could answer ; but presently the Duchess was 
 seen, leaning on Captain Heneage, advancing 
 up the room. At the same moment the band 
 began a grave minuet. The captain waved 
 his hand majestically to Dr. Syntax, who in- 
 stantly stepped out from the crowd with his 
 fair partner. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! — this is Charles*'s trick, 
 I have no doubt ; — and poor Madge ! — what a 
 shameful trick !" exclaimed Brooke Heneaire 
 and Miss Elphinstone together. 
 
 But it was too late ; — Tilly led her forward, 
 keeping an awful distance from her hoop, and 
 holding her fingers as if they burnt his. The 
 Duchess, who by this time discovered that peo- 
 ple were standing instead of dancing, raised 
 
CASTLE MOXA. 137 
 
 her glass to the couple exhibiting; and her 
 look of surprise seemed the signal for the most 
 indecorous laughter — there was not a dissen- 
 tient muscle ; all laughed but Tilly and Mrs. 
 Margery. She resolutely kept up to her cha- 
 racter of the old coquette ; and her severe look 
 and determined minuet movement seemed to. 
 inspire Tilly Mith the spirit of La veille coiir. 
 He bowed " most gloriously," as Captain 
 Heneage protested ; and after being once or 
 twice thrown by his partner, so as nearly to 
 lose his balance, plucked up some energy, and 
 swung round to admiration. It was an excel- 
 lent exhibition, and kept up our spirits through 
 the evening wonderfully ; indeed nothing more 
 grotesque could be imagined than this *' ancient 
 couple." Tilly's figure was exactly tlie Doctor's, 
 and his fearful, rueful countenance constantly 
 turned towards Miss Brackenbury witli a lock 
 
138 CASTLE MOXA. 
 
 of " what am I to do next ?" revived the 
 laugh every moment it appeared to flag. Then 
 his increased velocity of movement was highly 
 amusing: and, being perceived by Captain 
 Heneage, he waggishly quickened the time of 
 the music ; and now they were seen moving 
 quicker and quicker — then they whirled and 
 whirled ;— while the Duke stooped to laugh, 
 and Captain Heneage clapped his hands i[i 
 unfeigned rapture ! He seemed to possess the 
 same power over Madge as the showman over 
 Punchinello ; for she moved by his eye, and 
 the whisking of her hoop at last actually 
 blinded us all with chalk-dust, and made us 
 shed tears of attestation, in which every 
 one was alike aff'ected ; — never was there a 
 greater medley engaged with pocket handker- 
 chiefs than at this crisis. Peers, })loughboys, 
 princes— clowns, countesses and country girls — 
 
CASTLE MONA. 139 
 
 generals, Jews, gentlemen — sweeps, Swiss, and 
 Scotch — every one applauded till every one was 
 tired . 
 
 Breathless, at length, Tilly looked entreat- 
 ingly at tlie Duchess, who, in her turn, inquired 
 of Captain Heneage what he could mean; for 
 the twist of the beseeching countenance spoke 
 so distinctly that it could not be mistaken. 
 
 " Amusing me ! Captain Ileneage. I have 
 thought them bewildered these many minutes. 
 — Oh ! for mercy's sake stop them and re- 
 prieve us." 
 
 Tilly made another bow to ]Mrs. ]\Iargery, 
 concludinfj with a tremendous shake of the head 
 as a finale ; then gallantly drawing her arm 
 through his, he led her off' in triumph. The 
 Duke loudly applauded them ; and the whole 
 company followed their steps to witness the 
 airs which the lady gave herself in repressing 
 
I4r0 CASTLE MOXA. 
 
 the empresseme7it of the beau ; who, being 
 now quite relieved from his false shame, and 
 elated by the plaudits bestowed, ran into the 
 opposite extreme, and pestered her with Iiis 
 excessive attentions. jMadge, however, true 
 to her character, frowned him into more mode- 
 rate demeanour, and employed him unmerci- 
 fully in her ceaseless errands : her huge fan — 
 her glove — her essences — all required three or 
 four removals ; and the worthy Doctor was only 
 released from active duty by a summons to 
 refreshments. Here poor Octavia, as the part- 
 ner of Mr. Murray, was again separated from 
 those she would have preferred ; and though 
 placed by him at the upper end, I fancied, from 
 her frequent glances towards us, she would 
 gladly have dispensed with honour for pleasure. 
 I was near Mrs. Heneage and her party^ which 
 also included ]\Ir. Dairy mple. Dancing re- 
 
CASTLE MOXA. 141 
 
 commenced immediately after supper. I heard 
 Brooke Heneage say to Octavia, en passcmt, 
 " Remember you are engaged to me for the 
 next ;" — but the next she did not dance ; for 
 by some unlucky chance, her weak ancle 
 twisted while dancing with ^Ir. ^Murray, and 
 again she was an object of public attention ; for 
 ^Nlajor Elphinstone was obliged to carry her 
 into the saloon, and thence to the carriage, 
 as she was quite unable to return to the ball- 
 room. 
 
142 ELI HIKE AT HOME 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ELPHIKE AT HOME. 
 
 Women may wear gold and pearls abroad ; but there is no- 
 tliin^ like the coral of content for every day wear. 
 
 OcTAviA had enjoyed the ball so much, that 
 her spirits promised to hold out during the 
 drive home, though she was suffering extreme 
 pain ; she chatted so incessantly on the way, 
 that she completely deceived her father into a 
 hope that the ancle was not much hurt. 
 
 " See eJoan — see Conisterre ! now I do re- 
 
ELPHIXE AT HOME. 143 
 
 member to look for it ; but the moon is down, 
 and it is scarcely to be distinguished. Beau- 
 tiful it is still, however, even with that thick 
 mist enveloping it. Papa, I never saw Conis- 
 terre look as it does now. I have seen it in 
 storm and in clouds, in sunshine and in showers, 
 but never with this indistinct, mysterious ap- 
 pearance — did you, papa ?'' 
 
 Major Elphinstone only answered by press- 
 ing his daughter closely to him, as if to assure 
 himself of her safety. 
 
 " 1 am quite safe 7iow, dear papa, but — 
 I have touched my ancle,'** and she burst into 
 tears, caused by so long suppressing her feebngs 
 of sufferino;. 
 
 We soon reached home, and every care was 
 taken of Octavia ; who, however, was found to 
 have given her ancle another very severe 
 sprain. Again she was declared a close pri- 
 
144 ELPHINE AT HOME. 
 
 scner, and for some time she bore it admir- 
 ably ; for, during the first few days it was a 
 novel thing to sit on a sofa surrounded by 
 frequent callers, and feel herself the point 
 of attraction to each ; but after a while cir- 
 cumstances arose which rendered her confine- 
 ment more irksome. 
 
 Lady Henry Murray took Mrs. Heneage 
 and ]Miss Brackenbury on a tour through the 
 island, and the gentlemen agreed to meet them 
 near the Calf, whither they were gone on a 
 shooting excursion. For two days after their 
 departure, Octavia exerted herself to preserve 
 her spirits; but even during these two days I 
 saw it was achieved by exertion arising from 
 a proper sense of conscious shame ; the third 
 dav her spirits gave way, and on the fourth 
 she made no effort to maintain them : lan- 
 guid, low, and fretful, she passed her hours 
 
ELPIIINE AT HOME. 145 
 
 in wilful unhappincss. True, many of her 
 sources of pleasure were closed for the present, 
 but a reojulated mind would have turned to 
 those which were still within her reach ; and 
 a tractable spirit would have suffered itself to 
 be led to them ; but alas ! Octavia's was none 
 of these. Seen casually, or by those who 
 were strangers to her disposition, Octavia ap- 
 peared a singularly enviable being ; she shone 
 as a happy creature, through the bright halo 
 which the partiality of her friends and the 
 peculiarity of her manners shed around her. 
 She was affectionate and ardent, but these 
 feelings added nothing to her felicity. For 
 a person to seize and follow any nevs^ plan 
 with earnestness, too often shows only a 
 restlessness in former pursuits ; it often 
 evinces an unfavourable disposition of the 
 habits, an ill-confirmed dedication to virtue ; 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 ELrillNE AT HOME. 
 
 and when these are found in a woman of 
 more than ordinary talents, the chances are 
 great that they entail misery on the pos- 
 sessor. Octavia had read many books, 
 some that might have been better left unread ; 
 — she read all eagerly, and adopted the 
 tone and conclusion of each author, with- 
 out pausing to inquire into the truth of his 
 positions, or investigating the solidity of his 
 arguments. Thence she imbibed some new 
 errors, and strengthened many old ones, but 
 fortunately, her haste exceeded lier memory, and 
 with her, a book laid aside was usually a book 
 forgotten, and the author last perused the 
 one most esteemed ; and it was certain that the 
 more singular the notions he conveyed, the 
 more secure he was of her attention ; conse 
 quently, it rarely happened that she perused 
 a work of imagination without contriving to 
 
ELPIIIXE AT HOME. 147 
 
 identify herself with its contents, either by 
 discovering a similarity of sentiment, or by 
 appropriating some of its circumstances, inci- 
 dents, or feelings. Singular and extravagant 
 opinions may be excellencies in wit, but they 
 are errors, or worse than errors, in judgment. 
 Octavia was far from being considered selfish, 
 even by those who looked on her with eyes of 
 discovery, and her near friends would, doubt- 
 less, have considered it little short of profana- 
 tion to accuse her of it ; yet, dearly as I loved 
 her, I could find no word which more clearly 
 expressed my conception of her faults. She 
 was incessantly intent on herself; and that 
 was not the worst, she fancied every one 
 else intent on the same object : was she in 
 company ? — she believed every word, action, 
 or glance, had reference to herself, and was 
 accordingly elevated to joy, or depressed by 
 
 H 2 
 
148 ELPHINE AT HOME. 
 
 imaginary neglect ; she imagined it impossible 
 any thing could be done, said, or looked, with- 
 out motive and intention, therefore she fre- 
 quently set down motives and intentions to 
 actions and looks the most innocent. Being 
 thus in her library as well as in her life given to 
 identify herself with whatever she perused, and 
 never dreaming that she could resemble any 
 faulty character portrayed, she continued to 
 view herself as the original of every picture that 
 pleased her fancy — the breather of every senti- 
 ment which chanced to assimilate with the tem- 
 perament which might then absorb her. All 
 this time it never occurred to her that many 
 of these resemblances which struck her as won- 
 derfully coincident, were frequently slight, 
 faulty, and not infrequently adopted on the 
 spur of the moment, merely because singular, 
 new, or interesting. 
 
ELPHINE AT HOME. 14-9 
 
 These notions, added to her previous stock, 
 were often called into sudden service, and ])ro- 
 bably hurried their adopter into critical po- 
 sitions, either of words or actions, which drew 
 on her applause or censure, as her auditors 
 might determine. Indeed I discovered, that 
 the capital error of Octavia's character was 
 this extreme absorption of feeling, which had 
 been sown by her governess, by whom she was 
 almost taught to consider herself the child to 
 whom most consideration was due ; it had been 
 fostered by her school-fellows, whose interest 
 it might be thus to flatter her foibles and in- 
 flame her vanity. No wonder then, that her 
 father, when he brought her to his hearth, 
 feeling blessed with her society, joying in her 
 youth, her bloom, — her rich affections all his, 
 and his for the first time, — no wonder that he 
 strengthened rather than attempted to eradicate 
 
150 ELPHINE AT HOME. 
 
 that which, in fact, he never saw, — which, if 
 pointed out to him, would, probably, have been 
 considered as a monstrous impossibili^'y — imper- 
 fection where all was perfect. 
 
 It is too probable, that on her first arrival 
 at home, these faulty feelings would not be 
 uppermost in Miss Elphinstone's constitution ; 
 novelty was the elixir of her life, and sup- 
 plied with THAT, self would be soothed, if not 
 laid asleep. On first reaching Douglas, home, 
 father, liberty, all were new and consequently 
 attractive ; happy had it been for Octavia if, at 
 this crisis, she had been blessed with a mother 
 who could have fixed her unsettled mind on 
 the only subject ever discovered sufficiently 
 sedative to engross woman's wandering thoughts, 
 — domestic affairs. Had she seen in the prac- 
 tice of a mother, that in soberly regulating her 
 family affairs, solicitously providing for her 
 
ELPHINE AT HOME. 151 
 
 children, tenderly consulting the happiness of 
 her husband, and carefully ministering to the 
 comforts of her dependents, are comprized the 
 chief worldly duties and the charities of woman ; 
 she would have learnt, that the exercise of these 
 privileges cherishes in the lieart the best and 
 most beautiful feelings of nature, — feelings 
 which constitute the charm of existence, bless_ 
 ing the possessor by that proud consciousness 
 of virtue which they raise, and winning the 
 beholder by the vrarm glow of native elegance 
 which they exhibit : such a woman lives not 
 for herself, she lives for the husband she 
 honours, the children she fosters, and the friends 
 she delights to entertain ! 
 
 I have said, that I had hitherto seen Oc- 
 tavia's spirits supported by the anticipation or 
 reality of pleasure and enjoyment ; I was now 
 to mourn over her in a series of miseries 
 
152 ELPHINE AT HOME. 
 
 which she inflicted on herself and friends with- 
 out hesitation or compunction. Till she went 
 with the tourists, no day passed without Miss 
 Brackenbury's coming to Fort Anne to sit 
 and converse with Octavia ; and either 
 accidentally or intentionally Captain or Mr. 
 Heneage always called in time to escort 
 her back to Douglas ; it more frequently hap- 
 pened with the latter than with Captain He- 
 neage ; and while it lasted was a circumstance 
 of considerable satisfaction to Octavia, but 
 true to her besetting sin, distortion, no sooner 
 were they gone (Sir Henry Howard too gone 
 with them, and she and I left with no daily 
 caller to rely on but Mr. Dairy mple,) than 
 she extracted gall from the last drop of honey 
 she had tasted, and gave herself up to the idea 
 that it was to enjoy the company of Madge 
 that Brooke Heneage had so often wandered to 
 
ELFHIXE AT HOME. 153 
 
 Fort Anne. With her usual candour she com- 
 municated her opinion to me, and, sooth to say, 
 I did not feel myself justified in affording her 
 the consolation I saw she hoped to derive from 
 me — a contradiction of her surmise. Even if I 
 had felt more persuaded than I actually did 
 of the state of ]\Ir. Heneage''s sentiments, I 
 should not have dared to nourish the feelings 
 which it was very evident were springing in 
 Octavia's breast, still less when I felt an al- 
 most equal doubt with herself on the subject. 
 That he should admire Octavia was natural, 
 for she v;as calculated to excite admiration, 
 and the gentleman possessed sufficient delicacy 
 of taste, but he joined to it a sober clearness 
 of discernment, a discrimination of character, 
 a quiet fearlessness of expression, which, while 
 it assured me he could not but discover the 
 
 H 5 
 
154 ELPHINE AT HOME. 
 
 specks in Octavia's character, taught me that he 
 
 would not hesitate to crush any feelings her 
 
 charms were likely to raise, if he found them 
 
 likely to be inimical to his happiness. 1 feared 
 
 this, for he was of all men the one I conceived 
 
 calculated, by circumstances and character, to 
 
 influence a change in Octavia's character. In 
 
 the first place, he had sufficient personal and 
 
 mental advantages to ensure a high place in 
 
 her esteem and affection ; in the next, his 
 
 temper was so happily contrasted with her own, 
 
 as to appear likely to check its effects in the 
 
 only way admissible by such a nature as hers. 
 
 His manners were gentle, persuasive, and to 
 
 an inattentive observer might have seemed 
 
 facile, but to me, they were the index to a mind 
 
 and opinions the most firm and the best regulated; 
 
 he seldom angered Octavia by thwarting her hu- 
 
ELl'HIXE AT HOME. l.^O 
 
 mour or disputing her opinion, but I observed 
 that he never, by any chance, yielded where 
 his judgment differed: and this, whicli to 
 her eyes presented a blank subject of retrospec- 
 tion, was to me the source of the only cer- 
 tainty I could feel in the matter. I hoped 
 it argued an interest in her improvement, which 
 if not originally derived from settled affection, 
 was most likely to lead to it, and to its course I 
 silently consigned my friend's chance of happiness 
 on this score, It was certainly to be expected, 
 that after the unusual excitement she had been 
 thrown into, she would find it difficult to regain 
 a placid equanimity, more especially as such a 
 state was entirely foreign to her nature ; and 
 I could not do otherwise than pity this dear 
 creature, whom I had so lately seen realizing 
 her picture of })leasure, only to prelude a state 
 
156 ELPHINE AT HOME. 
 
 of suffering and irksome confinement, which 
 we were assured was the only surety for even- 
 tual cure. With all my power I tried to dis- 
 sipate the languor which at first stole on her, 
 and this I found an easier task than to allay 
 the irritation which she presently indulged. 
 Ten weary days passed, and the only circum- 
 stance which occurred to rouse her from fan- 
 cied to real uneasiness, was a note from Miss 
 Brackenbury — it told of a very agreeable tour 
 and no less pleasant sojourn at Castletown, 
 whence it was dated. " The only drawback from 
 my pleasure," she wrote, "is the recollection that 
 my dear Elphine is suffering while I am en- 
 joying. Do, my dear creature, be sure to rest 
 that unfortunate ancle, and be quite ivell when 
 we return, (this day week,) but I shall lay 
 most especial commands on the beau-bearer 
 
KLPHIKE AT HOME. 157 
 
 to inquire whether you justify the name of 
 patient, and how far I may hope to find you 
 recovered. We all hope Major Elphinstone 
 will be prevailed on to return with him to join 
 this party to the Calf, which seems to be the 
 only thing thought of at present. How I hope 
 for long letters from you and dear Joanna ! 
 Oh ! the impatience of men ! I have nearly 
 done — heighday ! 7iot going .'^ well then, Sir 
 Harry will tell you the why and the wherefore. 
 — What weathercocks are these men !" Now 
 this letter was brought by a boy, who did not, 
 certainly, " fly as soon as it was delivered,'"* 
 for he staid to leave a long unintelligible 
 message, something about a gentleman, and a 
 horse, and a gun ! — but whether the gentleman 
 could not come because he had a gun and a 
 horse, or because he was seeking them, we 
 
158 ELrHIXE AT HOME. 
 
 could not make out. The Major was not in 
 the way, so we had nothing but woman's wits 
 for it, till just when we had for the fiftieth 
 time wondered who was to have brought it, who 
 did bring it, why the first person alluded to 
 did not bring it, and who and where the real 
 bearer was, came good-natured Tilly Dalrym- 
 ple, to tell us he had met Sir Henry Howard 
 and the Major on the south parade, hurrying 
 to the gunsmith ""s, and they had despatched him 
 to inform IMiss Elphinstone she might expect 
 both gentlemen to a late dinner. 
 
 " Then it was Sir Henry brought the note," 
 sa/d Octavia. 
 
 " What note '^" replied Tilly, '' I know of no 
 notes, — all I know is, the Major and he were 
 hastening to Wingate's, and says I, ' Hey ! Sir 
 Harry, where did you spring from ?"" for I had 
 
ELPHINE AT HOME. 159 
 
 no notion, you are aware, tliat he would return 
 before Lord Henry and his party. Well, no 
 answer did he give me, but stuck the butt- 
 end of his gun against my mouth, and ' Ah ! 
 good Tilly, says he, don't interrupt us, 
 for we are on a matter of life and death ;' 
 (meaning their guns, you are aware;) and the 
 iVIajor says, ' Do, Tillv, step up to Fort Anne, 
 and tell my daugliter not to expect me at 
 home till six, and Sir Harry will dine with 
 us.' So they bolted into Wingate's, and I 
 stepped up. And now, my good ?vliss Fane, how 
 is the ancle ? Your patient looks a little feverish 
 — rather flushed. Not seen Danby to-day ? 
 No, he is sent for to poor Smitli, — Blood 
 Smith I should say, or he would be offended, 
 even if he were dying ; — now, Miss Fane, in the 
 absence of the surgeon, might I advise ? You 
 
1()0 ELPHIXE AT HOME. 
 
 are aware that the flush on Miss Elphinstone's 
 cheek is caused by the irritation of the swollen 
 part, now what do you say to a cataplasm of 
 oatmeal and vinegar ? — you are aware — " 
 
 " I'll tell you, Mr. Dalrymple, what I am 
 aware of," said Octavia, " that you play the 
 piano much better than the doctor— do, you 
 good creature, enchant Miss Fane by an air 
 cvn varia^ione.'" 
 
 With the most obligino; obedience he moved 
 to the instrument. 
 
 *■* Are you aware, Miss Elphinstone," said 
 he, "how ]\Iillar, the blind musician, finds the 
 piano the moment he enters a room ? — he is 
 stone blind Miss Fane, but the most exquisite 
 performer, — all ear, of course — well, he is very 
 recherche, as you may imagine, has tlie e7itre 
 of Castle Mona, and so on, but if he goes into 
 
ELPHINK AT HOME. 161 
 
 a strang-e room he stands so — Miush !' — then 
 you are aware every one is mute ; then he stamps 
 — so — and catching the sound of the strings, 
 he flies to the instrument — so" — suiting the 
 action to the word, Tilly flew and seated him- 
 self on the music-stool, and moving his head 
 and body in strict time with the piece, played an 
 old air with variations of his own composing. 
 There was somethino; so obligin": and £ood-na- 
 tured in ]\lr. Dalrymple, that one could not help 
 tolerating his foibles in return for his obedient 
 compliance with the many and manifold com- 
 missions, requests, messages, &c. Sec, which 
 were entrusted to him. His obtuseness to ridi- 
 cule, concealed or open, was so extreme, that 
 it positively blunted the edge of satire, and re- 
 lieved him from many a sarcasm and attempt at 
 quizzing : the very fact of his being a known 
 
162 ELPHINE AT HOME. 
 
 butt freed him from all the usual penalties of 
 the character, and Tilly Dalrymple lived on 
 pleasing himself by pleasing every body else, 
 and perhaps contributing more to the happiness 
 of the society in Douglas than any other half- 
 dozen of his species, who Avould, any one in- 
 dividually, have thought their intellect woefully 
 compromised by being brought into comparison 
 with honest Tilly ""s. During his musical per- 
 formance, I happened to ask Elphine why he 
 was called Tilly. With her usual recklessness 
 she answered me aloud, *' Oh ! do not you know 
 his christian name is Matthew ? and once upon 
 a time an old Lady Richards came to Douglas to 
 take the benefit of change of air, or to lose a 
 bilious complaint, or some such trifle, and 
 Tilly's brother the Colonel, whom you have 
 not seen, as he is laid up with the gout — apropos, 
 
ELPHINE AT HOME. 1C3 
 
 Tilly, how is the worthy Colonel ? — hem — where 
 was I ? Oh ! well, the Colonel calling on her 
 ladyship, spoke of a relative of his as Matty. 
 A few days after, came an invitation from Lady 
 Richards for the Colonel and his sister Matilda. 
 There, my dear, IVe given you a slight sketch 
 of the origin; I am correct, Mr. Dalrymple, 
 thereabout, am I not ?" 
 
 ** IVIy good young lady, you are aware,"" at- 
 tempted Tilly, but Miss Elphinstone frustrated 
 his attempt. 
 
 *' Come, Joanna, we must adjourn to our 
 dressing-rooms — au revoir, Mr Dalrymple." 
 
 " Miss Elphinstone — but, my good young 
 lady," said Tilly, as 1 was assisting Octavia 
 from her sofa, ^' the Major — that is — I had an 
 addition to the message I had the pleasure of 
 giving you ; I ought to have told you, I believe. 
 
164 ELPHINE AT HOME. 
 
 that Major Elphinstone commissioned me to 
 burthen you with my company this evening." 
 
 " I am sure we are his debtors, Mr. Dairy m- 
 ple/' said Octavia kindly: "do help me across the 
 gallery, and perhaps you will reconnoitre my 
 birds for me, as I have so long been parted from 
 them."' — '• Poor fellow," said she, when he left 
 us, " I never saw him so much at a loss before ; 
 he has invited himself a thousand times, — what 
 could be the reason ? you look grave, Joan — tell 
 me now, what crotchet you have got in 3'our 
 im agination.^'' 
 
 " Only that it is possible he might be hurt 
 at your telling me in his hearing of his un- 
 fortunate cognomen." 
 
 " No such thing, my dear ; he is never hurt — 
 with me at least : no, it could not be that, I am 
 sure.'" 
 
ET.PHINE AT HOME. 165 
 
 But Octavia faltered a little, and though 
 
 only a very little, I was glad to have shaken 
 her inconsiderate habit, even a little. 
 
166 DOUGLAS HEAD. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 DOUGLAS HEAD. 
 
 " The agreeable passions of love and joy can satisfy and 
 support the heart without any auxiliary pleasure. The bitter 
 and painful emotions of grief and resentment more strongly 
 require the healing consolation of s)Tnpathy." 
 
 Six o'clock brought Major Elphinstone and Sir 
 Henry Howard, and two hours before Octavia 
 would have thought that the fact of their ar- 
 rival must certainly end all her suspense. 
 Well, Sir Henry was arrived, but true to 
 nature, Octavia''s manner on receiving him 
 
DOUGLAS HEAD. 167 
 
 showed all tlie embarrassment and confusion 
 which filled her mind. Such a reception might 
 have flattered a man less prone to vanity than 
 Sir Henrv, but he happening to be a very vain 
 man, was so delighted with it, that he could 
 not refrain from showing his pleasure. Instantly 
 aware of his inference, Octavia, still following 
 the bent of impulse, suddenly chilled, and ex- 
 hibited such a change in her demeanour, that 
 any other than Sir Henry would have been 
 thrown considerably aback, and led to indulge 
 in sundry philosophical reflections on the change- 
 ableness of woman. The baronet, however, 
 seldom troubled himself with searching into 
 female motives ; — a complete man of the world, 
 he instantly placed even this caprice of manner to 
 the same account, a preference for himself; 
 and so fixed was his persuasion on this sub- 
 ject, that no possible manner of Miss Elphin- 
 
1G8 DOUGLAS HEAD. 
 
 stone's could have shaken it. At the moment, 
 she was ignorant of this fact, and contenting 
 herself with merely bestowing on him the bare 
 dues of hospitality, she resolved to punish him 
 by sharing between me and Mr. Dalrymple her 
 smiles and notice. 
 
 Sir Henry was a great favourite with Major 
 Elphinstone; they appeared to have similar 
 tastes, occupations, and opinions : indeed, as far 
 as hunting, shooting, and coursing went, the 
 similarity might be real, but I suspected that 
 Sir Henry did not always sci^uple to waive his 
 own opinions for those of the Major. Octavia 
 very well knew the estimation in which her 
 father held Sir Henry, and she also suspected 
 he meant him to be his son-in-law, but she 
 was accustomed to indulge her own inclina- 
 tions, and as her present inclinations by no 
 means led to this issue, she suffered no fears 
 
DOUGLAS HEAD. 169 
 
 on this subject, but feeling too irritated much to 
 address any questions to him on the subject of 
 the tourists, she made her ancle a plea for 
 non-appearance in the drawing-room, leaving 
 me with strict injunctions to discover if 
 Brooke Heneage were the bearer alluded to 
 in Miss Brackenbury's note. 
 
 When the gentlemen joined me, I quickly 
 perceived by Sir Henry's manner, that he had 
 not omitted wine as an auxiliary to his spirits, 
 and I determined that as soon as possible I 
 would rejoin Octavia ; first, however, I had 
 my mission to fulfil, and perplexed by his 
 demeanour, I perhaps deserved some excuse, 
 if it were not completed to Elphine's satis- 
 faction. 
 
 " When is Madge to return ? "" was hei- first 
 inquiry. 
 . I smiled at its indirectness, but was unable to 
 
 \oi . I. I 
 
170 DOUGLAS HEAD. 
 
 answer it, or indeed any of her questions ; for 
 Sir Henry had chosen to be entirely silent on 
 the subject of the tourists. To none of nny 
 queries could I obtain a sensible reply, for with 
 the wilfulness of wine, the more anxiety 
 I showed, the more obstinate he became, and at 
 last I was glad to escape from his company in 
 the same ignorance in which I joined it. I had 
 feared the effect this disappointment would 
 have on Octavia's temper ; but she surprised me 
 by showing none of the impatience and vexation 
 I had expected. "Tiresome creature!" was 
 her only exclamation, and she instantly deter- 
 mined to persuade Major Elphinstone to ac- 
 company Sir Henry on the shooting expedi- 
 tion. 
 
 "It will be something to think of/' said 
 she; "and any sort of occupation just now is 
 desirable. Joan, I could weep ! " but she 
 
DOUGLAS HEAD. 171 
 
 did not. Contenting herself with one heavy 
 sigh, she turned her thoughts to the little ar- 
 rangements necessary for her father's journey, 
 and the effect of this slight occupation fully 
 justified my opinion of the usefulness of domestic 
 economy in absorbing any restless feeling of the 
 female temperament. 
 
 Dr. Johnson never wrote truer words ti^an 
 those he (juoted of a lady, who said, " Men 
 cannot hem a pocket handkerchief, so run 
 mad." Many a fit of irritation is dissipated by 
 the feminine employment, needle-work. 
 
 After the Major's departure, Octavia''s spirits 
 seemed more equable ; she suffered herself to 
 be persuaded to several little acts of exertion, 
 and, as in most other attempts, the first wa* the 
 worst. She resumed her music and her read- 
 ing, and a lovely evening tempted her to a walk 
 on the Head. There are not many spirits so 
 
 I 2 
 
172 DOUGLAS HEAD. 
 
 sunk, as not to be elevated by these walks: 
 there are few that would not be soothed by 
 the varied beauties, and interested by the sub- 
 lime and contrasted prospects. To me it was 
 ever a mine of inexhausted gratification, and 
 whether I made one of a large party, or was 
 accompanied only by the Major and Octavia, 
 or wandered thither alone, the effect was always 
 salutary. When in idle glee we clambered up 
 the steep rocky acclivities, in a noisy party, I 
 enjoyed the sudden changes in the landscape, 
 and delighted in the quick succession of height 
 on height, piled as if to tempt the young and 
 vigorous to reach their summits. With the 
 Major and Octavia, it was most pleasant to stand 
 and view the surrounding scenery, which em- 
 braced a wide stretch of landscape, each varying, 
 and each in turn claiming the preference. The 
 Head commands a view of the ocean, which 
 
DOUGLAS HEAD. 173 
 
 alone is ever changing — ever new. This was 
 Octavia's favourite view ; liowever depressed 
 or irritated in spirit, she would return from 
 contemplating it calmed and soothed. 
 
 The Major's taste led him to prefer the more 
 bustling scene of the town, the quay, and the 
 bay, with Conisterre on its bosom. I, on the 
 contrary, sought the woodland beauties, and 
 turned to the brightly glowing foliage of the 
 Grove, which, stretching below the Head, almost 
 hid the low Nunnery from my search. Further 
 to the right might be seen clusters of dark trees 
 burying Kirk Braddon. 
 
 It was a pleasing idea that three persons of 
 different tastes should stand on the same square 
 yard, and each be able to feast their eyes on 
 the view most congenial. We have thus stood 
 some moments silently absorbed in our respec- 
 tive pleasures, till roused by the Major's 
 
174 DOUGLAS HEAD. 
 
 quiet remark, that " the Duchess was coming 
 in," or " the Duke was setting out,"*' meaning, 
 thereby, the packets so named. 
 
 " My dear Joanna, how much I enjoy this 
 walk, I always like a walk on the Head ; but 
 this evening my spint feels unusually light 
 — my health is, I believe, better, and my ancle 
 stronger, and you are so good to me ; or else, do 
 you know, I rather prefer coming here alone ! 
 Yes, though papa is such a cheerful companion, 
 I certainly have more enjoyment of the mind in 
 wandering here * fancy free.' " 
 
 *' But why so, my dear ? " 
 
 " Oh ! then I people it with beings perhaps 
 created in my own fancy only, and I range these 
 hills, accompanied by these imaginary person- 
 ages; I hold conversations with them, main- 
 tain arguments, wax anxious on the subject, 
 and suddenly awake by finding my progress 
 
DOUGLAS HEAD. 175 
 
 Stopped sometimes by a shelving descent, some- 
 times by a group of real substantial prome- 
 naders !" 
 
 " And what description of people are these 
 imaginaries ? what are their marks, that I may 
 know them, if we chance to meet ? " 
 
 " Eh r said she, starting absently, — then, 
 after a pause, " yes, it is indeed enjoyment, to 
 steal away from papa, on a still, delicious, glow- 
 ing evening, to snatch up a bonnet and escape 
 from the house while he thinks I am only 
 seeking a needle, or a new shade of silk ; then 
 away up the hill, and never look behind till I 
 reach what Tilly Dalrymple calls the Fairies' 
 rocking stone, — then stop to catch my breath, 
 and, looking behind, see dear papa emerging 
 from the conservatory, having only that moment 
 suspected my elopement, and then all too late, — 
 he is distanced ; they would have fleet feet who 
 
170 DOUGLAS HEAD. 
 
 caught me. Perhaps, Joan, you can scarcely 
 conceive the pleasure I have at the moment I 
 catch papa's look of mingled surprise and dis- 
 appointment ! " 
 
 " My dear Octavia, this is one of the points 
 which I cannot esteem in you, and, in fact, 
 which entirely puzzles me; how can it enter 
 into your heart to conceive pleasure in paining 
 those you love.'^''' 
 
 " You give my thoughts a very strong ex- 
 pression, but perhaps you may be right — I be- 
 lieve you are right, and so stripped, it does 
 seem unnatural : and yet, Joanna, it is very, 
 very true. I have actually more than once 
 stolen out of the room when papa was reading 
 the newspaper, just when I supposed he had 
 finished, and was about to say, " And now, 
 (Jctavia, would not a walk do us good ?" aye, 
 and you know his kind look and manner, and 
 
DOUGLAS HEAD. 177 
 
 Still I have left him and taken pleasure in 
 seeing liim alone, disappointed at my deser- 
 tion; — how can it be accounted for ? I am not 
 positively hard-hearted — I am distressed to 
 see distress, and yet I could do so, and doat on 
 my private walk, and, rambling on, could give 
 my thoughts to fancied scenes and imagi- 
 nary friends, not half so kind or so tender 
 as that one dear father. Pray, Joanna, 
 tell me how can these things be ? I love 
 my father as tenderly as most girls— when 
 he is ill I grieve ; but yet I can neglect 
 him, and cruelly leave him at the very hour I 
 know he likes to have me with him, and for 
 wliat r — to yield to an engrossing, monopolizing 
 spirit, that pants to be alone, merely to dwell 
 on thoughts and wishes, as vain as they are 
 selfish ; — aye, now I have it ! self is the 
 root of my disease; do you know," said she, 
 
 I 5 
 
178 DOL'GLAS HEAD. 
 
 quickly changing from a low. choking, scarcely 
 breathed articulation, to a tone of brisk in- 
 terrogation, " Brooke Heneage once said he 
 feared mine was a diseased mind. What could 
 he mean ? surely not a deranged mind ? " 
 
 " No, certainly not ; but how came he to say 
 so ? he seems not to have spared plain speaking 
 with you. This is strange courtship^ Octavia, if 
 courtship it be." 
 
 She sighed and blushed painfully, as she 
 said, " Ah ! no courtship, but said in friendly 
 good wishes, I dare say. I wish I remembered 
 his good advice and plain speaking more than 
 I do." 
 
 " And that is scarcely possible, Elphine ; but 
 come, the evening grows chilly, and the mist is 
 gathering; besides, the ancle is failing, so let us 
 go home.^' 
 
 I had gained the point I desired — I had 
 
DOUGLAS HEAD. 179 
 
 taught Octavia to probe her own heart, she had 
 questioned it, and received a faithful answer. 
 Self was the root of her disease, and surely 
 to know her fault was the first step to a cure. 
 The next day and the next, Elphine was en- 
 chanting ; she was mild, patient, reasonable, 
 — and on the third our friends returned. 
 
180 THE SOIREK. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE SOIREE. 
 
 " As oziward we journey, how pleasant 
 
 i'o pause and inhabit awhile 
 Those few sunny spots like the present, 
 
 That 'mid the dull wilderness smile ; 
 But Time, like a pitiless master, 
 
 Cries " onward " and spurs tlje gay hours ; 
 And never does time travel fatter 
 
 Than when his way lies among- flowers." 
 
 Who does not know the charm of a social 
 evening spent in the company of those you 
 love ? Who cannot call to mind some one par- 
 ticular evening when, surrounded by ha])py 
 
THE SOIREE. 181 
 
 faces, and gladdened by bright smiles, the heart 
 glowed with delight, and the eye flashed with 
 joy ? The very room, the furniture, but above 
 all, that focus the hearth is ready at a moment 
 to start before the memory and represent the 
 scene as it occurred. The evenino- I would 
 record still lives in my recollection — not per- 
 haps in such vivid colouring as I should have 
 given it the following morning, but even still 
 more delightful, because every harshness, every 
 rough line is blended w^ith the predominant 
 pleasure, and time and space have softened 
 and shaded them so gently, tliat gradually the 
 dark shades have grown softer and softer, till 
 at last nothinor has remained but the ao-ree- 
 able, and any little brusquerie is effaced and 
 forgotten. The Major arrived to dinner, and 
 while we still lingered in the dining-room 
 cjuestioning and being questioned in turn, Miss 
 
182 THE SOIREE. 
 
 Brackeiiburj and her two beaux walked up ; — 
 they were easily persuaded to spend the even- 
 ing at Fort Anne, and good-natured Mr. 
 Dalrymple too dropped in, so the muster in the 
 drawing-room was not contemptible, for every 
 one who has been to Douglas knows that 
 beauty is doubly valuable in that mirrored draw- 
 ing-room, pannelled throughout with plate 
 glass. I accepted the Major's challenge to 
 chess, and did not at first see how the young 
 ])eople applied themselves to seek amusement. 
 After a few games (for I was so very a tyro, 
 that the Major usually had the misery of con- 
 quering me thrice in half-an-hour) I was re- 
 leased, and joined the group seated round the 
 table, where every one seemed happy ; and it 
 was happiness to us to be witnesses of theirs. 
 Miss Brackenbury was seated near the table 
 with a most demure look of pleasure beaming 
 
THE SOIREE. 183 
 
 on lier countenance. She sat very still, watch- 
 ing Captain Heneage, wlio was busy cutting 
 out her profile, which he had just taken on 
 the wall. People always look better than 
 usual or worse than usual, when they are 
 sitting for a portrait, and though this of 
 Madge's was only a silhouette on a sheet of letter- 
 paper, she took care to look better than usual ; 
 with her hands joined on her knees, and 
 her head a little thrown back, she cast very 
 complacent glances on Captain Heneage, who 
 pursued his task with an earnestness which was 
 very amusing to us, and apparently grateful 
 to her. 
 
 Octavia was seated on an ottoman near the 
 fire, and Brook Heneage, fixed near her, seemed 
 to dwell upon her lovely conscious face — and 
 that face, half hidden in its beautiful chevelure, 
 literally appeared bathed in delight. In her 
 
184 THi: SOIREE. 
 
 certainty of his affection, she appeared to feel 
 a sort of fearful joy ; there was fear in her 
 furtive glance, yet joy was so predominant, 
 that it imbued her with a bright loveliness that 
 was indeed enchanting; her fond father glanced 
 at me to remark it, she caught the glance and 
 understood it. Springing up, she interrupted 
 a most useful air in which Tilly Dalrymple 
 was indulging, for the good soul had also been 
 making his own happiness by betaking himself 
 to the piano, and favouring the lovers with an 
 agreeable accompaniment to their melodious 
 breathings. Nobody values the utility of a 
 loud piano-forte player more highlv than a 
 lover; ladies know that more agreeable things 
 are said to them during a voluntary of this 
 sort than in the stillness of a quiet room, 
 and gentlemen venture to utter them under its 
 cover, perhaps because they know they cannot be 
 heard distinctlv- 
 
THE SOIREE. 185 
 
 " My good Mr. Dalrvni]:»le, I must move 
 you ; I am so happy, I want to sing — nothing 
 is so delightful as singing when one is happy, 
 except, perhaps,"" said she, checking herself 
 with a chastened look, '• sinsin^; to one's self 
 when miserable I"" 
 
 Brooke Heneage fortunately approaclied, and 
 again Octavia's face was lighted up with smiles. 
 
 "Do you know," said he, "I have often 
 wished I could play on this instrument." 
 
 *' This ? — the piano-forte ? — surely not.^ 
 
 "Why should I not.^" 
 
 " Oh ! there is to me something so truly 
 ridiculous in seeing a gentleman seated at a 
 piano-forte ; imagine him placed at the mercy 
 of a party of preluding quizzing young ladies, 
 with no ribbons, or curls, or any thing to defend 
 his back from their interesting remarks on its 
 plainness." 
 
186 THE SOIREE. 
 
 " Suppose, however, that he has not a plain 
 back ?" 
 
 " But it must look plain perched on a music- 
 stool, his coat flaps hanging over it, and his 
 tight sleeves sawing the air — how odious ! — 
 never dream of shining in that most ridiculous 
 walk of singularity — you could only succeed 
 in looking like a good music-master, and surely 
 that would not be desirable." 
 
 I watched the gentleman's face during this 
 tirade with much interest: "if he give up," 
 thought I. " she is indeed secure of his affec- 
 tion, but he will not ; at least, it is unlike his 
 usual manner." 
 
 " Then you prefer the flute : you would 
 rather see a man handle the flute?" said he in 
 an inquiring tone. 
 
 " No, I cannot say I am fond of seeing a 
 man play the flute ; hoys I can only tolerate in 
 
THE SOIR^K. 187 
 
 that line. It is but a childish toy in my eyes, 
 and I never am accompanied by one but I feel 
 uneasy — pained — for I cannot lose the idea that 
 the performers distress themselves to produce 
 their tones ; and music should be a free-will 
 offering — no pain, no labour should attach to 
 it, or the pleasure is lost. The same applies 
 to the harp ; it is certainly a very elegant 
 instrument, and a graceful woman looks more 
 graceful seated before one; but the most thrilling 
 sounds would not make me forget that to pro- 
 duce them she has blistered her fingers a dozen 
 times, which mav be at that actual moment so 
 stained with sweet oil that they must be washed 
 the moment she rises." 
 
 The latter part of this speech was said in an 
 expiatory tone, and particularly addressed to 
 Mr. Heneage, who, standing behind her, met 
 her eyes as she looked towards him, and 
 
1S8 THE SOIREE. 
 
 answered quietly, " Then, Mr. Dalrymple, no- 
 thing remains for you and me but the violin, ac- 
 cording to this fastidious young lady's decision." 
 Octavia coloured with a tinge of vexation. 
 She was instantly aware that her power did not 
 usurp that of reason, and temper might, 
 perhaps, have shaken what she did possess, 
 if Captain Heneage had not that instant ap- 
 proached with his finished profile. It had the 
 fate of most likenesses; — it was pronounced 
 very like about the mouth, and very unlike 
 near the nose by Major Elphinstone, at the 
 same moment that Tilly Dalrymple declared 
 he saw a strong resemblance of the nose, but 
 none of the mouth;— and the very forehead 
 Octavia would have known any where, Brooke 
 Heneage looked at twice before he could dis- 
 cover the least resemblance. As he held it in 
 his hand, pretending to be comparing it with 
 
THE SOIREE. 189 
 
 the original, who stood with much ease awaiting 
 his scrutiny, Octavia caught his eye, and her 
 smile made him restore it to his brother, with 
 a ready acknowledgment that there was a 
 likeness. 
 
 " Well, you have had your revenge, I hope," 
 said she. 
 
 He laughed, and, opening the Irish Melodies, 
 they sang together, " Oh ! breathe not his 
 name,"'"' and the notes rang through the room, 
 and sunk into my heart. Mr. Dalrymple and 
 I retired into separate corners of the room, 
 to enjoy the felicity of quietly drinking in the 
 sweet sounds. There was a short pause after 
 this song, which was broken by Major Elphin- 
 stone's comprehensive ejaculation, " Poor fel- 
 low r — he had known Robert Emmett, on whom 
 the song was written. It roused me; and I found 
 that Tilly and I were objects of amusement to 
 
190 THE SOIREE. 
 
 Captain Heneage and Miss Brackenbury, who 
 pointed out our sequestration to the company. 
 
 " I am always melancholy when I hear sweet 
 music," said Mr. Dairy mple, coming forward 
 with a smile of pleased complacency, which 
 alone should have absolved him from a dozen 
 follies. 
 
 " There surely is nothing half so sweet in 
 life/' whispered Captain Heneage to Miss 
 Brackenbury, " as singing duets with a person 
 one loves.*' 
 
 '' Except dancing with them,"" replied she. 
 He maintained a preference for singing, and 
 the debate was referred to the musicians, who 
 were busy seeking other duets, with an ear- 
 nestness which implied that they at least thought 
 it a delightful employment. 
 
 " Which is preferable .^'** said Brooke He- 
 neage, slowly, and with his eyes fixed on the 
 
THE SOIREE. 191 
 
 carpet, " I cannot determine ; Miss Fane, 
 Miss Elphinstone, give your opinions."" 
 
 '* I cannot speak respecting dancing," said 
 (Jctavia, precipitately ; " I never danced with a 
 person I liked in my life/' 
 
 Instantly aware of the possible inference, her 
 ingenuous face was covered with blushes, which 
 it was vain to hide. Unmerciful Captain He- 
 neage rallied her immediately, and, seizing her 
 hands, drew her from tlie music stool to the 
 mirrored wall, " to reflect back her blushes," 
 as he tantalizingly declared. 
 
 Miss Brackenbury kindly talked of this mir- 
 rored wall, and as soon as possible engaged the 
 Captain in an argument on the subject. He 
 liked it above all things — would have his draw- 
 ing-room pannelled in the same wav, the 
 moment he had one, and could afford it. 
 
 *' Nonsense," said Madge, " pictures, good 
 
192 THE SOIRi:E. 
 
 pictures, are a thousand times to be pre- 
 ferred ; look at the sameness of these sheets of 
 glass." 
 
 " There you are entirely mistaken, fair lady ; 
 the sameness is in the picture, always the same 
 — if it happen to be a lady in hat and feathers, 
 'tis always a hat and feathers ; if a gentleman 
 in a bag wig, there you have the bag wig al- 
 ways ; but in my picture the lady may have a 
 blue hat to day, and a black one to-morrow. I 
 mvself may mount a sporting jacket in the 
 morning, and a fantail at night Oh ! you are 
 quite wrong ; I have all the busy moving life, 
 vours would have only a dull, flat surface of 
 sleep or death ; for you know the " sleeping 
 and the dead are but as pictures." There, cap 
 that ! you cannot, Madge. I bet you a pair of 
 gloves you cannot tell me where that line is." 
 
 " In Shakspeare." 
 
THE SOTREE. 193 
 
 '' True, but where ? " 
 
 ** The sleeping and the dead" — hum, hum — 
 said she ; — " be quiet — I am thinking — '* 
 
 " Do you give it up ? *" 
 
 " Be still— no, to be sure not — stay, 'tis from 
 Othello." 
 
 *' No such thing — Fve won, — 'tis in Mac- 
 beth." 
 
 " Oh ! but prove it. I cannot take your 
 assertion. I still think it is in Othello." 
 
 " Aye, because Desdemona slept and died^ 
 I suppose. Fie, Madge, what a lame conclu- 
 sion." 
 
 Shakspeare was asked for, and Octavia went 
 into the Octag-on room to fetch the work. 
 
 She was absent some little time, and presently 
 we heard the sounds of her ^^olian harp stealing, 
 as it were, across the gallery which separates 
 the drawing-room from the Octagon. In an in- 
 
 VOL. I K 
 
194 THE SOIREE* 
 
 stant all were still. What so soon succeeds in 
 imposing silence as sweet music ? Octavia en- 
 tered on tip-toe, as if she felt afraid to interrupt 
 the harmony which gradually wound round the 
 room, increasing every moment in power and 
 pitch, till at last it gushed in a full burst of 
 melody, perfectly astonishing. I listened breath- 
 lessly — there seemed a sort of spell thrown over 
 us. I do not think an 3' one could have endured 
 that silence to be broken. After a sort of tri- 
 umphant clash of sweetest sounds, the notes 
 seemed to die away, as they had at first won 
 upon us, gradually retreating, creeping stealth- 
 ily round the pannels of the room. Twice 
 there was a pause, — gently it breathed again 
 — the most liquid notes hung quivering, 
 trembling on the ear, which greedily caught 
 them almost before they fell — again a pause 
 — then one loud sweep, and all was still ! 
 
THE SOIREE. 195 
 
 '' Perfectly magical," cried Captain He- 
 iieage ; " but ^vith your good leave, ladies, we 
 will close the door. .Eolian harps are deliglitful 
 things ; but one always catches cold after them. 
 Brooke used to be a famous hand at construct- 
 ing them — have you forgotten, Brooke, the harp 
 you and I bungled for " 
 
 " Mr. Heneage made this,'' interrupted Mr. 
 Dalrymple, in an uncommonly quiet tone of 
 voice. 
 
 How strange it is that though we may not 
 observe the silence of one of a company, vet 
 when that silence is broken, the omission is at 
 once painfully evident. jNIiss Eiphinstone and 
 I looked at Mr. Dalrymple at the same moment, 
 and the next at each other ; it was plain some- 
 thing was wrong with him, for we both remem- 
 bered in an instant that his voice had not been 
 heard for the last hour. 
 
 K 2 
 
196 THE SOIREE. 
 
 " What in the world is the matter with 
 him P'** whispered Octavia to Mr. Heneage, who 
 was writing something in pencil on a scrap of 
 paper. 
 
 " Can you have forgotten what you said 
 about his playing .^^ '"' said he, reproachfully. 
 
 " His playing.'^ your playing you mean." 
 Octavia's tears rose to her eyes ; " I only meant 
 to teaze you, and I have offended himy 
 
 " And you did not succeed in teasing me — 
 it was an unlucky attempt,"" said he smiling. 
 
 " Perhaps so,"" said she, proudly, " but at 
 least I will succeed in my next," and in a 
 moment she was by Mr. Dalrymple's side. 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to go with me, 
 and fetch the books I went for and did not bring, 
 because the ^olian harp quite put them out of 
 my head ? " 
 
 With his constant forgiving manner, Mr- 
 
THE SOIREE. 197 
 
 Dalrymple accompanied her ; — they staid so 
 long, that at last the Captain dispatched me 
 and his brother to fetch at least the books, that 
 he might win his wager. As he passed Miss 
 Brackenbury, Brooke gave her the slip of paper, 
 on which he had been scribbling. On entering 
 the Octajjon we found the two standinoj near the 
 fire in earnest conversation. Octavia was say- 
 ing, ** Indeed you must though — you may be- 
 lieve me." 
 
 " I cannot," replied he, in a low voice, so low 
 that Mr. Heneage and myself instinctively drew 
 back as if we were intruding. Octavia"'s next 
 words, however, spoken in a clear voice, again 
 induced us to remain. 
 
 " I am reckless I know, Tilly, thoughtless 
 and foolish — foolish certainly, to be making this 
 confession of my thoughtlessness ; but there is 
 not another man to whom I could confess half 
 
198 THE SOIREE. 
 
 as much — but I never meant to hurt you, and 
 as a proof of it I will own " 
 
 To save any more confessions, we entered, 
 and Miss Elphinstone, instantly recovering from 
 confusion, (if she felt any,) continued, " I will 
 own there are but two classes of friends in my 
 catalogue — those worth quarrelling with, and 
 those not worth it." 
 
 " And I am worthy to be in the first class ?" 
 said Tilly, delighted. 
 
 Mr. Heneage laughed, and desired Octavia 
 to keep a place for him in the second rank, as 
 he never wished to be placed in the first. 
 
 " According to my theory, that is no com- 
 pliment to yourself 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but resolve your theory to 
 practice before you class me, and let it not 
 be to-night, I beseech you : you look at this 
 moment too" # # * # # 
 
THE SOIREE. 199 
 
 Alas ! I know not what he said, for thev each 
 took up some volumes of Shakspcare, and what, 
 or how she looked was whispered in the gal- 
 lery ! 
 
200 3HAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 " Hear him but reason in divinity, 
 And all admiring, with an inward wish. 
 You would desire (the poet) were a prelate ; 
 Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs. 
 You'd say it hath been all-in-all his study ; 
 List his discourse of war, and you shall hear 
 A fearful battle rendered you in music ; 
 Turn him to any cause of policy. 
 The Gordian knot of it he will unloose. 
 Familiar as his garter." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 " Here is Shakspeare, cousin Madge," said 
 Mr. Heneage, " now let me help you to win 
 your wager." 
 
SHAKSPEARIANA. 201 
 
 " Tell me not of Shakspeare or of wagers,"** 
 replied the lady, in a most heroic tone, " I hold 
 in my hand something infinitely more interest- 
 ing — listen, ladies, gallants all — hem, hem ! — 
 ' Conversation held in the mirrored drawing- 
 room, at Forte Anne, September 22nd."' 
 
 • My room, instead of looking glass. 
 Paintings,' said Madge, a lovely lass, 
 
 ' Upon its walls shall wear.' 
 
 * Absurd,' cried Brooke, * for how, alas ! 
 Could paintings rival or surpass 
 
 The charmed reflection, where the glass 
 Would your own image bear V " * 
 
 " Excellent ! excellent I^"* cried every one. 
 *' Why, Captain, you really are a very pretty 
 poet,"" said Mr. Dairy m pie. 
 
 " Much obliged, Sare," said the Captain, 
 bowing first, and twirling his whiskers after- 
 wards, " we flatter ourselves we are pretty well ; 
 * Transcribed from the manuscript of a lost friend. 
 
 K 5 
 
202 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 but I sigh to say the lines under admiration are 
 not mine — they are the offspring of my grave 
 brother, who flatters by stealth, and will blush 
 (are you ready, Brooke?) to find it known." 
 
 '' Alas ! my blushing days are over," said 
 Mr. Heneage, " if, indeed, they ever existed ; 
 but why are those ladies' heads clustering 
 so together ? there is mischief, ]Mr. Dalrymple, 
 I am convinced, so let us crush it, or help it." 
 
 " Stay a moment,"*^ said Mr. Dalrymple, in a 
 low voice, " do not disturb them ; you cannot 
 tell what pleasure it is to me to watch 
 those clustered heads, — there is surely no- 
 thing so attractive in women as beautiful 
 hair." 
 
 " Well, you are not far wrong, Sir," replied 
 Brooke, smiling indulgently at Tilly's simpli- 
 city, "' and I agree with you in paying the full 
 toll of admiration to these particular three ; 
 
SHAKSFEARIANA. 203 
 
 but help me to decide wliich is most beauti- 
 ful." 
 
 " 'Tis an unthankful office," said Tilly, "and 
 I have no great mind to undertake it ; but 
 what say you to Miss Brackenbury's shining 
 black locks?" and he looked curiously in Mr. He- 
 neage's face. Brooke laughed at the ])eer- 
 ing action, and anxious curiosity of his in- 
 quirer. 
 
 " Yes, Madge's hair is very beautiful ; I like 
 those masses into which she heaps it, for it is 
 very becoming to her joyous face. Then there 
 is such a distinction in the character of the three 
 heads, — Miss Fane's so closely braided, so clas- 
 sical, not a stray lock to break the beautiful out- 
 line, — I almost think we must give the pre- 
 ference to her fair hair and Grecian head." 
 
 " But Miss Elphinstone's.^" said Mr. Dai- 
 ry m pie. 
 
204 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 " Well, Miss Elphinstone's ; " replied Mr. 
 Heneage, and he paused, as he fixed his eyes 
 on it in unrestrained admiration, " 'tis cer- 
 tainly a lovely colour, so warm and sunny ; 
 such thorough English brown, and the clus- 
 tering ringlets, too, are charming. One would 
 wonder how so much could belong to so small 
 a head — see how redundant it is ! positively 
 I believe it is false: observe how long it 
 hangs on her neck — rest assured, Sir, tis 
 borrowed." 
 
 " You are entirely mistaken, Mr. Heneage," 
 said Mr. Dalrymple, warmly, " I shall rest as- 
 sured of no such absurdity ; I have known El- 
 phine — Miss Elphinstone too long to credit such 
 a suspicion;" and Tilly sighed as he concluded. 
 
 " Oh ! I may be mistaken," answered Mr. 
 Heneage, smiling ; " but you are, perhaps, 
 little aware to what an extent that sort of 
 
SHAKSPEAllIANA. 205 
 
 thing is carried now-a-days. My cousin's, for 
 instance, which I have been admiring, looks 
 so perfectly natural, that you will not easily 
 believe it is not all her own ; but you shall see 
 her acknowledge the fraud;" then going up to 
 ]\Iiss Brackenbury, he said abruptly, " Madge, 
 do not you wear false hair ? *" 
 
 " What an absurd question ! I positively 
 will decline answering it." 
 
 " There, Sir, you find she cannot deny the 
 fact;' 
 
 " Nonsense, Brooke, you know I do not : 
 what can have put such a preposterous notion 
 into your head ? " 
 
 " The simple assurance of the fact. Yes- 
 terday I should have defended you most 
 jealously on such a score ; but this morning I 
 was painfully assured of the alarming cir- 
 
206 SHAKSrEARlAXA. 
 
 cumstance;"" and he fixed his eyes on a locket 
 which Miss Brackenbury wore. 
 
 The young lady laughed a little, and blushed 
 a little; but quickly diverted his attention by 
 holding up an album, into which she had 
 been, at my request, copying his epigram. 
 
 " Look, is this copied correctly P I really 
 think it was very ill-mannered of me to copy 
 these lines for you, Joanna. I ought posi- 
 tively to have refused, and the author, as in 
 duty bound, would then have given them double 
 value by the ornaments of his slender cali- 
 graphy. By the way, cousin Brooke, I advise 
 you to change your hand-writing, and leave off 
 rhyming forthwith; for every young ladv will 
 tax you if you coin such pretty speeches, 
 and write them so delicately. Well, will it 
 do?" 
 
SHAKSPEARIAXA. 207 
 
 " No, you have not copied correctly ; but 
 that is a sin of which you ladies are always 
 guilty. I never knew a lady in my life who 
 copied correctly : she always adds very or most^ 
 or some such superlative expression, that quite 
 destroys the simplicity of the sense." 
 
 " And pray have I added very or mod to 
 these said lines ? " 
 
 " Neither, fair lady," said Brooke. " your 
 amendment shows far more quickness, nai- 
 vete and delicacy than the best epigram ever 
 written." 
 
 What could the alteration be ? 
 
 She had written lively instead of lovely. 
 
 " Oh ! come hither, come hither, and receive 
 conviction," cried Captain Heneage. — Macbeth, 
 Act II. scene 2nd. As it happens with most 
 people, I began with the last volume, and looked 
 backwards, and positively did not stumble on 
 
208 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 Macbeth till the very last, — come, Madge, you 
 have fairly lost — confess." 
 
 *' Granted, Sir; and to-morrow Fll fairly 
 pay ! but just now I want to look at Miss 
 Fane's album. Oh ! Octavia, where is your 
 album ? I have not seen it yet.'' 
 
 " I have not one : — I never had the album 
 mania.'' 
 
 '• No ! why how is that ?" 
 
 " 1 cannot say exactly ; it was partly indo- 
 lence, and partly want of taste, and partly 
 pride perhaps. 1 did not like the idea of ask- 
 ing people to 'contribute,' as it is called in 
 album phraseology, for, fifty to one, the person 
 who will write in your album is not able, and 
 those who can are unv/illing ; and the vexation 
 of being refused is annoying, I should think. 
 Then I am not one to be content with filling 
 three parts of it myself. I should wish mine 
 
SHAKSPEARIANA. 209 
 
 to be a bondjide album, if I did establish such 
 an article ; — nothing should be admitted that 
 was not genuine and original." 
 
 " That is my opinion of albums,"' said Brooke 
 Heneage. " I would have young ladies keep 
 to the spirit of the word, and then there would 
 be some interest in the perusal of a few rare 
 contributions ; but now-a-days the albums put 
 into your hands are crammed full of long, 
 senseless rhymes in which you would never find 
 point or meaning, if you ventured the attempt. 
 The very cross corners of some are occupied 
 with stale enigmas and mots from Joe IMiller." 
 
 " All very fine, Mr. Heneage," said Miss 
 Brackenbury, " but it is very pleasant to look 
 into one's album for all that," and she turned 
 over the leaves with a smile of easy satisfaction. 
 " Nov see, here are some sweet lines ; tliey 
 were written by Catherine Mavor the day be- 
 
210 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 fore she sailed for India."" He looked over her 
 shoulder, and read — 
 
 "Rose-leaf, star, and dew. 
 Monuments of mind." 
 
 " My dear Madge, what absurdity ! not a line 
 or word in connexion. ' Monuments of mind !'' 
 Pshaw ! they are lines picked out of different 
 poems and joined together, in my opinion. 
 What do you say, Miss Fane ? You are cer- 
 tainly giving the subject deep attention." 
 
 " I was thinking of poor Caroline Mavor," 
 said I, " and her Indian voyage. Then I 
 thought of the last evening I saw her — she was 
 indulging a favourite fancy of hers, likening 
 all her schoolfellows to Shakspeare''s heroines. 
 I know Laura Flintham was Ophelia, and you, 
 Madge, were Anne Page." 
 
 '^ Oh ! much too large for Anne Page," cried 
 Captain Heneage. " No, Madge is a very pretty 
 
SHAKSPEARIANA. 211 
 
 Catherine — I could just imagine Catlierine with 
 such a shape, and head, and eyes ; aye, Madge, 
 you have the very Catherine step," continued 
 he, as she crossed the room. 
 
 " Oh ! kind Petruchio, pray cease to criticise 
 my poor eyes and hair, and employ your wit 
 by helping me to find a character for Miss 
 Fane,'' returned Miss Brackenbury going to- 
 wards Elphine and Mr. Brooke Heneage, who 
 were busv in idleness. 
 
 "No, Madge," said the latter, "join us; 
 Miss Elphinstone has invented the prettiest 
 pastime possible ; we were talking of the Sortes 
 Virgiliattce, and she proposed we should try the 
 Sortes Shakspeariana? ; what say you r dare 
 you run the chance of drawing the one eel from 
 the basket of vipers ?" 
 
 " Oh ! 'tis a happy thought, and just like 
 Elphine. I always say she is the personification 
 
212 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 of poetry. I remember at school she was the 
 only one who found out the " sortes" Charles 
 and Falkland drew. Begin with Major Elphin- 
 stone. Heh ! my good Sir, you are asleep, and 
 dreaming, I dare say, of putting me in check 
 the third move. Wake, Sir, and try your 
 fate." 
 
 " En prise ^ my dear,"" said the Major, catch- 
 ing each hand prisoner, as he roused himself 
 from a dose into which the ^olian harp had 
 lulled him. 
 
 " But, Octavia, you should have a pocket 
 edition of Shakspeare ; these separate volumes 
 will not be a fair trial." 
 
 " I have not one ; but you, Mr. Dalrymple, 
 I know, always carry one."" 
 
 Tilly blushed a little, as he produced the 
 work bound in delicate white leather. 
 
 " I know what the Major should hit on,' 
 
SHAKSPEARIANA. 213 
 
 whispered Captain Heneage, — " the passage in 
 ' As you like it,' beginning, 
 
 ' Oh ! g-oocl old man, how well in thee appears 
 The constant service of the antique world,' &c." 
 
 He opened, however, in, 
 
 " Ladies, a general welcome from his Grace 
 
 Salutes ye all. This night he dedicates 
 
 To fair content and you. N'one here, he hopes, 
 
 In all this noble bevy has brouglit with her 
 
 One care abroad ; he would have all as merry 
 
 As first good company, good wine, good welcome, 
 
 Can make good people!" Henry VIII . 
 
 " Very good," cried Captain Heneage, " all 
 good ! By your leave this lady shall try her 
 fate next. Come, Miss Elphinstone." 
 
 Octavia hesitated a moment, and then preci- 
 pitately o]:)ened the book. Her finger fell on — 
 
 " And, being a woman, I will not be slack 
 To play my part in fortune's pageant." 
 
 Second Part of Ilenru \l. 
 
214 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 " Very good ! excellent V was again the cry 
 as tlie Captain himself dipped — " Ha ! ha ! 
 better still !'' 
 
 " Oh! coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know- 
 how many fathoms deep I am in lo^^e, but it cannot be sounded. 
 My affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Por- 
 tugal." 
 
 " Listen, IMadge, the very book speaks ; and 
 women always believe what is in print. Will 
 you ever doubt again, heretic i^" 
 
 " Pshaw! I'll have my revenge on you for 
 that," interrupted Miss Brackenbury, " let me 
 fish for the eel : but truly there are as many 
 eels as vipers in Shakspeare — one can hardly hit 
 on any thing mal-a-propos . But stay, Mr. 
 Dalrymple, pray tempt your fate first." 
 
 Tilly''s was most comically sublime : — 
 
 " His life was gentle, and the elements 
 
 So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up 
 
 And say to all the world. This was a man," 
 
 Julius Ccesar. 
 
SHAKSl'EAllIAXA. 215 
 
 " Now then, Madge." 
 
 "No, no; — there are Miss Fane and vour 
 brother." 
 
 " Come, then, Brooke : — dip, man, dip 
 quickly. Oh ! you won't ? Here, then, for you. 
 I will be proxy. Ha ! most exquisite ! — 
 
 ' In peace there's nothing so becomes a man 
 
 As modest stillness and humility.' Heinv \. 
 
 What say you to that ? I expect Miss Fane 
 will appoint me proxy in her case, I've hit your 
 humble self so exactly to the life."" 
 
 " Say rather, bold warrior, it is your own 
 case, and your own picture by contraries. Go 
 on to the next lines, and you will find tliat you 
 are in peace what you ought to be in war, so 
 no doubt the reverse is completed." 
 
 " Slander, rank slander. Now, Miss Fane." 
 I took the volume, and also hit upon some 
 lines in " As vou like it :" — 
 
216 SHAKSPEARIAXA. 
 
 " You are full of pretty answers ; have you not been ac- 
 quainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them out of 
 rings V' 
 
 " How strangely applicable !" said one and all. 
 
 '' Now, Madge, last, not least, the book of 
 fate is left to you.*' 
 
 " And my revenge," said she. " And I 
 think ' As you like it ' has produced the best 
 answers, so there 111 fish. Now aid me, re- 
 venge, and chance, which has helped ye all-— 
 last, but best — listen, listen ! — 
 
 ' There is notie of my uncle's marks upon you. He taught 
 me to know a man in love, in which cage of rushes 1 am sure 
 vou are not a prisoner.' " 
 
 " "What were his murks'!" 
 
 read Captain Heneage, looking over her shoul- 
 der. 
 
 " A lean cheek, which you have not — a blue eye and 
 sunken, wliich you have not — an unquestionable spirit, which 
 you have not — a beard neglected, which you have not ; but I 
 pardon you for that : for simply your having in beard is a 
 
SHAKSPEAETANA. 217 
 
 younger brother's revenue ; — then your hose should be ungar- 
 tered, your bonnet unhanded, your sleeves unbuttoned, your 
 shoes untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a care- 
 less desolation; — but you are no such man, you are rather point 
 device in your accoutrements, as loving yourself than seeming 
 the lover of any other." 
 
 There my worthy cousin I I hope you are 
 silenced, the very book speaks against you/' 
 
 *'Go on, go on, a little farther, and you will see 
 it speaks/orme, or my memory deceives me." 
 
 " No, no, we will let well alone, for I have 
 fairly silenced you." 
 
 "' Let me propose something for your specu- 
 lation,'' said the Major ; " tell me what pro- 
 fession Shakspeare was ? Do you notice how 
 wonderfully and universally correct he is in 
 his descriptions of every profession ? I have 
 heard it said, that from his accurate descrip- 
 tions of the human frame, you would suppose 
 he had applied himself to study anatomy.'"* 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
218 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 " If," interrupted Captain Heneage, " the 
 thorough knowledge he displays of a military 
 life, did not make us ready to dub him 
 soldier." 
 
 " Then his intimate acquaintance with 
 law," — said Octavia ; ''• surely nothing can be 
 clearer than his detection of its intricacies. I 
 am of opinion he was a lawyer, and instance 
 Portia, and his frequent use of legal terms." 
 
 " And again, you might suppose him a 
 sailor, when you read the Tempest," said I. 
 
 " In short, Major, you are perfectly right," 
 said Mr. Heneage, " the idea is quite correct, 
 and I believe, most men will own, when reading 
 Shakspeare, that the intimate knowledge he 
 displays of their own profession justifies the 
 suspicion that their identical calling was his." 
 
 A short pause which ensued after these 
 words allowed our agreeable visitors time to 
 
SHAKSPEARIANA. 219 
 
 rcQiember the hour, and astonished to find it so 
 late, they took their leave. 
 
 Major Elphinstone, tired \vith his journey, 
 bade us good night immediately on their de- 
 parture ; and Octavia, throwing herself on the 
 low ottoman she had occupied the early part 
 of the evening, tossed up her arms in unre- 
 pressed delight — " My dearest Joanna, — my 
 best friend — congratulate me ; I am the happiest 
 creature existing." 
 
 " My dear girl, T do indeed congratulate you, 
 if he has"' 
 
 *'//*— oil, no cold ifs this night," said she 
 impetuously ; " he has not proposed to me ac- 
 cording to established phraseology, but — but" 
 — and overcome by real feeling she hid her 
 face in her hands. 
 
 "But what, dearest Elphine ? tell me, will 
 you not ? 
 
 L 2 
 
220 SHAKSPEARTANA. 
 
 After a long pause she exclaimed, " Oh ! I 
 am so certain of being happy." 
 
 " Then Heaven bless you, dear girl, and 
 make you so !" 
 
 I cordially embraced her, and perhaps, few 
 friends could sympathize more truly or more 
 tenderly than I did in her anticipations of hap- 
 piness. 
 
 " I will not question you, Octavia — I do not 
 even wish to know what has passed, only do not 
 deceive yourself — surely you are certain ?" 
 
 " Oh ! certain — certain ! never did creature 
 — never did creature rely so certainly on the 
 honour of man," she cried enthusiastically ; 
 " but you are so suspicious, so cautious, Jo- 
 anna — oil ! I would not be chilled by your 
 feelings for the world !"" 
 
 " Fearful, you should say Octavia; I own I 
 do feel fearful lest you should be buoyed with 
 
SHAKSPEARIAXA. 2:21 
 
 hope and doomed to suffer disappointment — it 
 would be overwhelming to yoic I know." 
 
 " Dreadful !" said she, shrinking ; " do not, 
 Joanna, do not, I entreat, shock me with the 
 thought, — disappointment now would destroy 
 me !" 
 
 " Hush, hush, Octavia !" 
 
 " I speak seriously," said she, her face burn- 
 ing with intense feeling, " I feel positively 
 persuaded, that if any occurrence should sepa- 
 rate us, my doom is sealed ; — but away with 
 such fears ; I shall see him to-morrow — to-mor- 
 row he will be in this house, in this room : oh ! 
 can I be sufficiently thankful for my hapj)i- 
 ■"ness ?" And totally exhausted, she burst into 
 tears — natural tears. I soothed her agitated 
 spirits, and having been inclined during the 
 evening to believe Mr. Heneage had at last 
 come to a determination to propose to her, I 
 
222 SHAKSPEARIANA. 
 
 could the more conscientiously minister the 
 only cordial her overwrought mind would re- 
 ceive. 
 
 '* You will be sufficiently thankful, rest 
 assured — nay you are — these tears show it 
 — remember them, dearest Elphine, remember 
 these tears in your future hours of glee, of 
 triumph, of recklessness.'* 
 
 " I will — I will," she sobbed, " I can never 
 forget this evening, nor this hour," and she 
 cast her eyes round the room, as if to minute 
 every article of furniture in her memory ; 
 " there we tried the Sortes — at that table he 
 wrote the epigram — on this very ottoman I 
 sat while you and papa had your game of 
 chess'" — 
 
 " And the epigram, Octavia, are you not a 
 little jealous of ]\Iadge, eh ?'"' 
 
 " Not in the least,*" said she, proudly ; 
 
SHAKSPEARIANA. 2'23 
 
 " no, this night, 'tis not possible to admit 
 jealousy for a moment — dear Madge ! how she 
 will rejoice at my happiness — dear, dear Jo- 
 anna, is not my joy too great to last r^' And 
 truly my heart sunk as she asked the question : 
 b-it the next mornino^ Mr. Heneafje called, 
 and his presence dispelled every doubt from my 
 mind. 
 
224 
 
 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 "Tout qui bhlle est sur son declin." 
 
 And now Miss Elphinstone had gained her 
 wishes ; Brooke Heneage had proposed for her, 
 to her delight, and her father'*s surprise, 
 for the jNIajor had always taken it for granted 
 that she was to marry Sir Henry Howard ; 
 and like most people whose thoughts and ex- 
 pectations are fixed on any one particular ob- 
 ject, his eyes were blinded to all other pros- 
 
GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 225 
 
 pects. Octavia, however, had nothing to com- 
 plain of in her father's manner of giving his 
 consent ; there was not a shadow of coldness, 
 unless surprise had induced a chill — the Major 
 certainly was surprised, and showed it, but a 
 few days sufficed to reconcile his feelings to his 
 daughter's arrangementfor her happiness; and as 
 Sir Henry was absent in the south of the island, 
 there seemed not one dissentient feeling. 
 
 Behold, then, Octavia happy !— happy ? could 
 she be otherwise ? engaged to the man she had 
 long preferred, a man suitable in age, tastes, 
 and station ; — sufficiently older to command 
 her respect ; sufficiently prepossessing in appear- 
 ance and manner to ensure her affection ; at 
 least his qualities had won for him the respect 
 and esteem of the world, and women are al- 
 ways influenced by the opinion of the many. 
 
 A few words that passed between Major and 
 
 L 5 
 
226 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 Miss Elphinstone, will show what cause there 
 was for my doubting the fact of her ha])pi- 
 ness. 
 
 The evening of the day on which my mind 
 was set at rest by Mr. Heneage''s overture, we 
 spent in the Octagon-room. Major Elphin- 
 stone lingered longer than his usual custom, 
 and at length, on our proposing to bid him 
 good night, he drew his daughter to his side, 
 and said, -' Octavia, my only child, are you 
 happy r' 
 
 " Dearest father, can you doubt it ? Is not 
 Mr. Heneage every thing you could wish to 
 see in — in — a son .^" 
 
 " ]My love, when Mr. Heneage toL.l me this 
 morning that he had gained your consent, I 
 was astonished, because I had not tliought 
 it probable — but the very mention of your 
 consent secured mine : still, now that a few 
 
GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 227 
 
 hours have passed, my feelings return to what 
 tliey were before I saw Mr. Heneage, and T 
 cannot rest till I have asked you whether he 
 has your entire undivided preference. ' Xight 
 is a wise counsellor,' therefore, consult your 
 pillow ; do not answer me now, for to do so 
 would not be acting justly to any of tlie 
 parties whose welfare I have at heart. Mr. 
 Heneage has just quitted you, therefore 1 
 cannot expect a totally uninfluenced reply; think 
 of my question, my child, and tell me to-mor- 
 row,"" continued he in a whisper, " whether I 
 had not once reason for believing you would 
 be a Howard .''" 
 
 Octavia's face sank on her father's shoulder, 
 covered with bluslies. There was a pause. " I 
 will answer you to-night, father," at length, 
 said she, in a hurried, though determined 
 n:anner; " to-night and always, believe me, ]Mr. 
 
228 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 Heneage will possess my whole and entire pre- 
 ference. He deserves it, be has asked it, and 
 by that he merits no little gratitude from me; 
 for I feel most deeply his superiority ; — yes, 
 father, superiority — not perhaps of rank or 
 fortune, but certainly of character. You have 
 looked over my faults because they were mine, 
 but would Sir Henry Howard ? Would he 
 make allowance for my waywardness, my hu- 
 mours — for indeed, dear father, they are humours. 
 No, no, his temper and mine would never suit ;"" 
 — she checked herself; " but will it suit with Mr. 
 Heneage ?" she glanced at me inquiringly. 
 " But I ivill crush them — oh ! father, what a 
 task you have left for him and me !" 
 
 Major Elphinstone started at this deep re- 
 proof, and Octavia, true to her character, burst 
 into tears of self-blame; "forgive luc, forgive 
 me, father, dearest father ?" But her father was 
 
GOOD KESOLUTIOXS. 229 
 
 1 
 
 shocked, and did not instantly answer her. She, 
 however, intreated his forgiveness so earnestly 
 that he could not but grant it, yet it struck me he 
 was deeply grieved by her random expression. 
 
 " My dear child, I do forgive you ; calm 
 yourself ; but, Octavia, how came you to strike 
 the only chord that could have grieved me, — 
 and this night too, — nay, no more tears, did 
 you not say five minutes ago, how can I be 
 otherwise than happy .''" 
 
 And such was the end of the first day of 
 Miss Elphinstone's certainty of happiness ! she 
 was absolutely miserable, for no feeling is so 
 difficult to be forgotten as self-reproach. 
 
 The next day, and the next, were, however, 
 ample compensation for her transient miseries, 
 and Octavia did forget her self-reproaches and 
 the cause of them. She lived alone to self^ and 
 so did Mr. Heneage, a])parently ; he was cer- 
 
230 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 tainly mucli attached to her, and not in the least 
 ashamed to manifest his attachment, for it has 
 been truly said, that a sensible man may love 
 like a madman, though not like a fool ; and 
 although he perhaps did not quite deserve 
 either character, he did ample justice, in my 
 opinion, to the name of lover, and for some 
 days Octavia too was satisfied ; — is not that 
 saving enough ? I can give no account of 
 divers walks and diives which just now took 
 place ; I seemed all at once to have found the 
 leisure I had so long wished for, and was 
 very busy sketching, and consequently could not 
 join in them, but Captain Heneage and Miss 
 Brackenbury usually set out with them, and if 
 the two parties sometimes liappened to part 
 company on the road, I dare say it was by 
 tacit consent of all four. I know dinner was 
 often kept waiting, and nobody found it out ; 
 
GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 231 
 
 for if the Major looked at his watch, it was 
 onlv to say, " What a charming day ! how Oc- 
 tavia will enjoy her ride !" or " the clouds hang 
 low, it is well you did not go with those wan- 
 derers, Miss Fane, they are sure to be caught 
 in a shower. — Ah ! here they come !" 
 
 But this could not last. The whole party 
 from Cumberland began to tliink it was time 
 to return home, and for one week tiiev con- 
 tented themselves vrith saying thev tliought so, 
 but when that was past ]Mrs. Heneage actually 
 said slie must go ; — she was expecting an old 
 friend to visit her at Haverholm, and it was 
 absolutely necessary she should be at home 
 to receive her. Of course Miss Brackenbury 
 would accoinpan}^ her, and I naturally antici- 
 pated the gentlemen would not allow the ladies 
 to travel without them. Not so, however, Miss 
 Elphinstone ; it seems the idea had never oc- 
 
232 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 curred to her, and unfortunately the first hint 
 she received was one morning at Lady Henry 
 Murray's. Captain Heneage had brought down 
 his stock of shooting gloves, which we found 
 the young ladies engaged in repairing. 
 
 " I am glad you are come," said Madge, " if 
 only to interrupt the long histories we have 
 had concerning these gloves.'' 
 
 " But I have not yet finished," said Captain 
 Heneage, " and I know Miss Elphinstone will 
 like to know that though Brooke used to be a 
 bad shot he has mended lately ;'' — then running 
 on without pity for Elphine's heightened 
 colour, '' I lent him this old pair to put his 
 hand in, and positively, this season he has 
 brought home his one-and-a-half brace with 
 ease."*' 
 
 Miss Elphinstone crossed the room to speak 
 to Miss Henriana IMurray, who was hanging 
 up some prints. 
 
GOOD llESOLLTIOXS. 233 
 
 " I am wondering," said Miss Brackenbury, 
 " which of you two is the taller." 
 
 " Miss Henriana," said Captain Heneage. 
 
 " I think Miss Elphinstone/' said Mr. He- 
 neage, measuring them with his eye. 
 
 '• It is soon decided," cried Henriana, step- 
 ping off the chair on which she was standing. 
 
 '* Ah ! why do you sit down ? mamma wants 
 to see how tall you are." 
 
 " Well, and I sit down because I always look 
 taller sitting," said she playfully; " but let me 
 have the credit, Henriana; you have a chance of 
 growing, I have none." 
 
 " There is very little of her," said Mrs. He- 
 neage, looking proudly at Brooke, " but it is all 
 life." 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Elphinstone is tall enough, is 
 she not Madge .^" inquired Ca|)tain Heneage, 
 " you know — 
 
234 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 ' Man wants but little here below, 
 Nor wants that little long.' 
 
 I admire littleness ;" and he glanced at Miss 
 Brackenbury, who smiled and went on sewing 
 his gloves, as if she had received a compliment. 
 
 " Ah ! you will not vex Madge," said Mrs. 
 Heneage kindly, " she is not easily teased, as 
 you may see by her person ; indeed, my dear, 
 'tis time we left Douglas, you will really be- 
 come too stout." 
 
 " I believe I have grown stouter," replied 
 Miss Brackenbury, "but I will be weighed 
 when we return to Haverholm — I was weighed 
 the day before we came, do not you remember, 
 Brooke ?" 
 
 Brooke nodded assent, and they smiled as if 
 some pleasant recollection crossed the mind of 
 each. Strange that that smile should create 
 so much speculation in Octavia's mind ! Though 
 
GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 235 
 
 she had reason to believe her friend was en- 
 gaged to Captain Heneage, and slie knew her- 
 self sure of his brother's affections, yet she was 
 uneasy. Not so Captain Heneage ; — " Ah ! 
 by the way, I ^^'as not of that same weighing 
 party. Where was I r Oh ! gone over to 
 Welby's— weighing parties are always merry. 
 Pray, Lady Henry, is there not such a thing as 
 a pair of scales to be found in Douglas ? 
 What hinders us from beinfj weighed this 
 morning ? I'll wager that Miss Elphinstone 
 is lio:hter than Miss Henriana — taller or not.'' 
 
 '^ I think she is," said Lady Henry Murray, 
 looking fondly at her daughter, " but that may 
 soon be proved ; what say you, ]Mrs. Heneage, 
 to a walk to ]\Ir. PelFs warehouse? I am sure 
 he will be glad to see the young people, and 
 I know you want the next volume from JeflTer- 
 son s. 
 
236 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 Mrs. Heneage smiled, and at her smile all 
 the glove menders tossed away their work and 
 yjrepared for a walk. 
 
 While they were absent. Captain Heneage 
 said, " Have you written that letter yet, 
 Brooke ?" 
 
 " No, it will do to-morrow, will it not ?''^ 
 
 " Why, it will, but when a thing is settled, 
 why delay ? You know very well, that Welby 
 means to have a host of folks at this same 
 battu, and they will want summoning from the 
 north and the south, so why not write at once?" 
 
 Brooke caught Octavia's anxiously inquiring 
 look — she did not speak, nor did he. To 
 reUeve her I inquired when Captain Heneage 
 meant to be in Cumberland? 
 
 " Why, we must be at home on the 30th, and 
 this is the 22nd." 
 
 "The 30th!" Octavia gasped, rather than 
 
GOOD KESOLLTIONS. 237 
 
 spoke — " on the 30th you came.'''' And in a 
 moment the panorama of the month passed 
 across her mind. Brooke approached her and 
 spoke in a low voice, — she did not answer : again 
 he spoke. 
 
 " Did she not know we were going so soon .?"*"' 
 whispered Captain Heneage to me. " I thought 
 my mother told her on Tuesday when she 
 called at Fort Anne, to do the proper — what 
 a pity I was so incautious, it would have come 
 better from Brooke." 
 
 But it did not seem to come well from 
 Brooke, at least Octavia did not take it well ; 
 she was panic-struck, and unfortunately showed 
 it. 
 
 " It is very flattering," again whispered Cap- 
 tain Heneajje to me. 
 
 I almost wished she heard him, to check 
 the exhibition of the feeling she was indulg- 
 ing. 
 
238 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 The ladies came down stairs, equipped for 
 their walk, and we set out. 
 
 " AVe shall look like a wedding," said Hcn- 
 riana Murray, who was a nice cheerful girl of 
 fifteen : and immediately, as if the idea gave 
 pleasure to Mr. Heneage, he gave one arm to 
 me, as he drew Octavia''s through the other; 
 but she did not seem to be associating feelings, 
 for she said, drawing down her veil, " How 
 distasteful is this sun !" 
 
 " Ah ! Octavia,'' said I, '* beware of fickle- 
 ness.*" 
 
 " Why.?'' asked she, quickly. 
 
 " Do you not remember, as we passed this 
 very house, you looked up cheerfully, and 
 said, ' How delightful is this sun ! how con- 
 gratulating it seems !' " 
 
 Octavia sighed, and Mr. Heneage inquired 
 what had changed her feelings in so short a 
 time. 
 
GOOD RESOLTTIONS. 239 
 
 " I cannot tell,'' said she, "but I feel un- 
 happy." 
 
 '' My dear Miss Elpliin stone, why make 
 yourself and other people uncomfortable about 
 what you are ashamed even to speak? surely 
 you are not thus unhinged because we are 
 ffoino^ on the 30th ?" 
 
 " Not because you are going, perhaps, said 
 she, " but why did not you tell me — why 
 leave it for Captain Heneage to name ? Madge 
 knew — every one knew but myself." 
 
 " Even / did not know, and do not know,'' 
 said Mr. Heneage ; " you happened to hear 
 this morning the most conclusive conversation 
 that has passed on the subject. I am not 
 aware that my mother has made up her mind — 
 she had not done so yesterday. Charles, you 
 hear, has determined to be at ]\Ir. Welby's 
 battu, and if so, we must settle something soon; 
 
240 GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 but why distress yourself, Octavia ? I shall 
 not doubt you^'" added he, kindly, " why, then 
 hurt me by showing this uneasiness?" for Oc- 
 tavia's tears were by this time falling fast, 
 though we were walkino^ in the crowded street. 
 Poor girl ! she had yet to learn to check her 
 feelings and conquer impulse ; it was a lesson 
 tliat took her years in the learning. 
 
BLUNDERS. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BLUNDERS. 
 
 " Notre coeur est un instrument incomplet ; une lyre ou il 
 manque des cordes, et ou nous sommes forces derendreles ac- 
 cens de la joie sur le ton consacre aux soupirs." 
 
 We were now near Mr. Pell's, and the party in 
 advance waited for us before they entered. 
 Mr. Heneage, to conceal Octavia's nervousness, 
 relinquished my arm, as we joined Lady Henry, 
 and said to his mother, " Miss Elphinstone and 
 I will go on to Jefferson's for your book : I want 
 some letter-paper."" 
 
 Immediately on their leaving us. Sir Henry 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 M 
 
242 BLUNDERS. 
 
 Howard and Mr. Dalrymple appeared coming 
 from the other end of the street — of course they 
 joined us, and forthwith we entered Mr. Pell's 
 warehouse. 
 
 The good man was extremely flattered by 
 tlie visit, of which he had to do all the honours ; 
 for it so chanced we had fixed on his work- 
 men's dinner-hour, and he was alone in the 
 warehouse. 
 
 " Well, Sir Henry, when did you return ? " 
 said Lady Henry Murray, " I understood you 
 meant to visit Ireland before we should see you 
 again. "'"' 
 
 *' Oh I my dear madam, do not call me to 
 account for my past intentions, I entreat ; I 
 never can afford to answer for more than those 
 of the present hour, which are generally pretty 
 numerous." 
 
 " Ah ! I hope they are all honest, and then 
 
BLUNDERS. 243 
 
 no matter how many you have," replied her 
 ladyship with simplicity. 
 
 " Madge, how many intentions have you 
 at this moment ? '' inquired Captain Heneage. 
 
 " Dear, dear, I do not know — I mean to be 
 weighed, and I mean to weigh more than Miss 
 Fane, and I mean to weigh more than I did at 
 Haverholm, and I mean '' 
 
 " Stop, my good lady, tliree meanings are 
 quite sufficient for the present moment, do not 
 you think so. Miss Murray ? Now then, to 
 fulfil the first — where are your holiday scales, 
 Mr. Pell ? of course you have a superfine pair, 
 for weighing light articles — aye, those are they ; 
 now, Madge, take care of hats and feathers, and 
 flowers." 
 
 But, unfortunate ! all the weights were not 
 in their places, and good Mr. Pell hunted and 
 searched every hole, and corner, and cranny ; 
 
 M 2 
 
244 BLUNDERS. 
 
 but the tiresome one pound and two pound 
 were wanting, and it was in vain that the gen- 
 tlemen changed and combined, and tried the 
 different weights — all would not do. — How was 
 Mr. Pell to manage ? If the ladies would be 
 so very kind as to wait, he would run home— he 
 knew how it was, he remembered they were taken 
 to the house the day before yesterday ; but they 
 ought to have been brought back. He would 
 not detain the ladies long — not above ten 
 minutes. But this the ladies could not agree 
 to, therefore obliging Mr. Dalrymple offered, 
 and was allowed to run up to Mr. Pell's house, 
 and to desire that the wanted weights might be 
 sent down. 
 
 Mr. Pell, highly delighted with his morning's 
 visitors, showed all his curiosities with pride 
 and pleasure. Among others, he produced 
 what Henriana called a wonderful mirror, which 
 
BLUNDERS. 245 
 
 reflected the most villainous change in the 
 human face divine; if you looked one way 
 it frightened you by presenting the broadest 
 face you can imagine, the eye-balls strained, 
 the nostrils distended, cheeks stretched out, 
 and mouth ! — oh ! what a mouth it made 
 for Captain Heneage ! Then, taking it longi- 
 tudinally made, as Mr. Pell said, '* all the dif- 
 ference :"" for truly you could not know your- 
 self, such a dreadful long face did it pull in a 
 moment ; the most obstinate pug uose was in- 
 stantly stretched to the length of a cjuarter 
 of a yard. Even Miss Brackenbury's round 
 chin, whose dimples might almost defy age 
 itself, elongated till it looked like the Witch of 
 Endor's, — and the hideous cheeks ! We all pre- 
 ferred viewing ourselves latitudmally, for ugly 
 as that showed us to be, it was lovely compared 
 with the long faces we pulled. Yet will it be 
 
246 BLUNDERS. 
 
 believed, every one of the party, young and 
 old, looked in this mirror — Satan's own, as 
 Captain Heneage called it, for disarranging the 
 regularity of his favourite, Madge. Probably 
 each one thought, " I never can look so plain as 
 they do :" if so, all were disappointed, for na- 
 ture was obliged to own we did look downright 
 ugly, and the most provoking part of the affair 
 was, that the likeness was never entirely 
 lost ; with all the stretching and pulling, we 
 could always know ourselves and acknowledge 
 our deformity. 
 
 Mr. Heneage and Miss Elphinstone re- 
 turned before Mr. Dalrymple. Sir Henry 
 went up to Octavia, and shook hands with 
 her in a manner that I did not much 
 admire ; it seemed rather — (perhaps I was 
 fastidious) — but I fancied it to imply a 
 very slight threatening manner. Miss Elphin- 
 
BLUNDERS 2i7 
 
 stone's pride seldom was wanting; it enabled 
 her, on this occasion, to return his salutation 
 with the ease due to lierself ; but there was a 
 seeming determination not to avoid his eye, 
 which I did not like, nor did he, I fancied. 
 
 There seemed a constraint thrown over us on 
 the entrance of iVIr. Heneage and Miss Elphin- 
 stone, which perhaps the former observed ; for 
 he immediately inquired why we were not 
 weighing. The difficulty was explained ; but 
 he could not rest without trying some one, and 
 persuaded me to be put into the scales. 
 
 He was more fortunate in his combinations 
 than we had been ; for he contrived to make 
 out my exact weight, which encouraged Miss 
 Brackenbury to try once more, and by sonie 
 means or other they summed up her weight. 
 
 " Eight stone two pounds, Madge — very 
 bad weight," said Captain Heneage, gaily 
 lifting her out. 
 
284 BLUNDERS. 
 
 " Ob ! here is Tilly Dalrymple coming, and 
 Mr. Pell's man following," said Sir Henry. 
 '' Now, Captain Heneage, I'll wager a bottle 
 we trick Tilly into a bet, if these ladies will 
 hold their peace, and not say they have been 
 Aveighed." 
 
 " Very well ; but quickly name your con- 
 ditions — quick, quick." 
 
 " Oh ! we lay an off-hand bet which comes 
 
 nearest Miss " He glanced at me, but 
 
 perhaps he had not forgotten the circumstances 
 under which we had last met ; at all events, he 
 passed me by and said, " Miss Brack enbury's 
 weight : she was eight stone two pounds. 
 Suppose you guess a pound under, I'll take a 
 pound over, and you, Mr. Heneage — '' 
 
 " Oh ! pray leave me out, I really will not 
 be a party in your cheating." 
 
 Good-natured Tilly arrived, and received 
 
BLUNDERS. 249 
 
 the clamorous thanks of the party ; particu- 
 larly those of Lady Henry, who had not heard 
 the betting scheme, and of her youngest 
 daughter Henriana, who enjoyed the jest ex- 
 tremely. To make the thing more natural, the 
 Miss Murrays were first weighed, then Miss 
 Elphinstone. 
 
 " Ah !" whispered Captain Heneage, as he 
 helped his brother to place her in the scales, 
 " you are heavier than you were an hour ago, 
 Octavia." 
 
 The kind manner of addressing her by name 
 soothed Elphine's spirits, and she smiled grate- 
 fully ; even condescending to reply, in his own 
 peculiar manner, "I am a ponderous load, 
 truly." 
 
 " Now then, Madge. Eh ! Madge, I dare 
 
 bet on your weight within a pound,'' cried 
 
 Captain Heneage. 
 
 M 5 
 
250 BLUNDERS. 
 
 " Well what dare you bet ?" said Sir Henry, 
 taking the cue, '* always presuming the lady 
 will forgive our daring to make her the subject 
 of a wager." 
 
 Miss Brackenbury nodded assent, and the 
 gentlemen proceeded in their knavery. 
 
 " Well, I venture a guinea I guess her 
 weight nearer than you do." 
 
 " Done!" cried Sir Henry: " come, Tilly, 
 what say you ? Will you join .''" 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple looked comically serious as 
 he eyed the laughing damsel before he agreed. 
 " Yes, I will — done !" said he, boldly. 
 
 " Agreed, agreed ; now, Miss Brackenbury, 
 now, Madge." 
 
 '• Stay, stay," said Tilly, quietly, " what do 
 you guess ? Speak, Sir Henry, what is 
 yours "i " 
 
 "Oh! I'll guess:— let me consider," then 
 
BLUXDERS. 251 
 
 looking at me mischievously, and, apparently, 
 prolonging his gaze because he saw I disliked 
 it, " I guess, from the weight of Miss Fane, 
 who is not quite so tall as Miss Brackenbury — 
 stay — I guess eight stone three pounds." 
 
 " Ah ! you are out, Sir Henry, " exclaimed 
 Captain Heneage. " Fll have it eight stone 
 one pound. Now, Tilly. You know it would 
 not do to guess exactly,""^ whispered he to 
 Madge. 
 
 '' I am the worst guesser in the world," -Mr. 
 Dalrymple began, with his usual modesty. " I 
 am sure I hardly know what to say ; I have no 
 doubt you gentlemen are much better judges 
 than I am, so I will not be far off; — I say 
 eight stone two pounds." 
 
 "He has hit it, by Jove!" cried Captain 
 Heneage. 
 
 " Hush, hush !" whispered Sir Henry, slily. 
 
252 BLUNDERS. 
 
 ** Nay, hang it, we will be honest. In with 
 you, cousin Madge — eight stone two pounds 
 exactly. Tilly, you are an excellent judge.""* 
 
 " Oh dear me !" Tilly began, apologetically, 
 " I am sure it was all accident — I declare I 
 had not the least suspicion of a — trick,'" added 
 he, as if afraid to utter his aroused suspicion ; 
 *'it was accident, indeed." 
 
 " Indeed I believe you, my good fellow;"*' 
 said Captain Heneage, " but we hardly de-- 
 serve you to believe us. However, Howard, 
 pay up, man, pay up, we have been sad cheats." 
 
 " Aye, you^^ay well say pay up,"" returned 
 Sir Henry, sullenly, and he paid each gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Howard, you are fairly done ; 
 — this is capital !" continued Captain He- 
 neage, laughing heartily. " Here, Tilly, I 
 am just where I started, with an even con- 
 
BLUNDERS. 253 
 
 science, and Howard pays for all. Never 
 
 mind, man, ' the lesser wealth the lighter 
 
 load,' I am told." 
 
 " Who told you so .''" said ^Ir. Heneage ; 
 
 but the blushes of poor Madge, as he cast a 
 
 merciless glance at her, told for themselves, that 
 
 in some tender and serious discussion between 
 
 the cousins, ]\Iadge had thrown off her usual 
 
 gaiety, and, with the best feelings of a happy 
 
 female, bad soothed the younger brother by 
 
 holding out, in the words of the elegant and 
 
 pious man at the time popular with all classes — 
 
 "The lesser wealth the lighter load, 
 Small blame betides the poor." 
 
 To relieve the feelings of all. Lady Henry 
 moved our return. We all thanked Mr. Pell, 
 and parted at his door ; we to return to Fort 
 Anne, while Lady Henry and her ladies went 
 home. Mr. Heneage crossed the bridge with 
 
254 blundp:es. 
 
 us; but, as Miss Elphinstone said she had 
 promised to call upon a friend on the Parade, we 
 there bade him good morning, and after our 
 call Octavia entreated I would walk with her 
 in the Grove. " That is, if you are not too 
 fatigued, Joanna ; you look pale, but a walk 
 will do you good." 
 
 I consented, and we turned towards the 
 Grove. 
 
 " Joanna, what shall I do ? Teach me to 
 clieck the devouring impatience which is 
 making me so wretched this morning !" 
 
 •' My dear girl, what can I say for you ? 
 Are you unhappy or disappointed that Mr. 
 Heneage did not stay with us?" 
 
 " Oh ! no, no, it was my own arranging en- 
 tirely. I knew I was in no mood to be longer in 
 his company, and I determined to call at Miss 
 Lardner's purposely to part from him. Oh ! 
 
BLUNDERS. 255 
 
 niy heart feels bursting. Let us walk quicker 
 — nothing can tire me — no distance, no weather. 
 Ah ! Joanna, if you were not here I should 
 turn to the Head and climb the steepest height, 
 seekiufj the breeze which would deter others. 
 Now could I walk, walk, walk, till my strength 
 and irritated feelings were alike worn out. Oh ! 
 why am I endued, plagued, with these miser- 
 able feelings ? Forgive me — forgive my im- 
 patience ; I am wretched, and must utter wdiat 
 I feel!" 
 
 " My deal' Octavia, I must blame you. I 
 can see no rational cause for this burst of 
 extreme irritability. Have you had a differ- 
 ence with Mr. Heneage ? has any thing gone 
 wrong ? Tell mC; my dear. Can I explain any 
 thing away for you .''"" 
 
 " No, no," she murmured. 
 
 I paused : — then a new thought struck me 
 
256 BLUNDERS. 
 
 " Octavia, you must deal openly with me. Is 
 this change in your feelings occasioned by 
 seeing Sir Henry Howard .'*" 
 
 "No; — I protest seriously, no. Joanna, 
 how can you suspect me?"* 
 
 I encouraged her indignation by still ex- 
 pressing doubt ; (though, in fact, I gave her 
 earnest protestations the credit she desired ;) for 
 I thought any revulsion of feeling was to be 
 wished. 
 
 " It is rather remarkable, however, Octavia, 
 that this evil genius, as you sometimes call it, 
 has slept till his appearance. Confess, my dear, 
 that my suspicions have some slight grounds 
 whereon to rest*" 
 
 " Perhaps so," said she, abruptly. For a 
 few moments she was silent, as if quickly 
 running through her recollections. I indulged 
 her. At last she held up her speaking coun- 
 
BLUNDERS. 257 
 
 tenance, flushed with a tide of proud triumph, 
 dashed with indignation. 
 
 " What did you suspect ?" said she. " Is 
 it possible you can suspect me of comparing 
 the two men ? Never, for a moment. If even 
 I had done so before to-day, that wager would 
 have exhibited the striking superiority of one 
 over the other."** 
 
 " And yet Captain Heneage engaged in it.'"* 
 
 *' True: — but I do not so much allude to 
 the commencement of the wager as the temper 
 displayed at the end. Did you not see the 
 sullen frown ?'"' 
 
 " But how does this compare with Mr. 
 Heneage.'^ Perhaps he might have shown his 
 temper, if he had wagered and lost, as Sir 
 Henry did."" 
 
 " Oh I how I detest your cool reasoning, 
 Joanna, ' cried she, impetuously ; " but I 
 
258 BLUNDERS. 
 
 know," said she, changing to a smile, " in your 
 heart you do not entertain the remotest com- 
 parison of the two. But I will tell you a slight 
 circumstance which occurred this morning, and 
 perhaps has made me view Sir Henry's ill- 
 humour with less patience than I otherwise 
 should have done. You remember Mr. He- 
 neage and I walked to Jefferson's to change a 
 book ; I recollected you had said that you had 
 never read Sydney Biddulph ; and, as I wished to 
 remark your feelings and opinions in reading 
 it, I asked Jefferson for it, when he informed 
 me it had been lost some time ; owing to his 
 carelessness in having made no entry of the 
 person's name, he did not know where to inquire 
 for it : he had merely an account of the date, 
 which was September 2nd, three years ago, 
 though the book was only allowed to be out 
 seven days; and now it is September 22r)i\^ 
 
BLL'XDERS. 259 
 
 SO it has run three years and three weeks," said 
 Octavia, sighing absently. 
 
 Then rousing herself, she said, " Mr. He- 
 neage asked Jefferson ' if there would not 
 be a heavy fine ?' 
 
 " ' To be sure, Sir, — very heavy."* 
 
 " ' And, if the person brnigs it back, you 
 mean to enforce it ? ' 
 
 " ' Certainly, Sir ; it is especially provoking 
 just now, for two or three people are wanting 
 that book. You, ma'am, have sent down 
 several times ; and Lady Henry was in- 
 quiring for it, in short I believe I must order 
 another copy.' 
 
 " ' I wonder,' said ]\Ir. Heneage, ' whether 
 you really would charge that fine or not, if tiio 
 book were to be produced."* 
 
 " ' Do not you think I ought. Sir?"* 
 
 " ' Indeed I do, and seriously advise you to 
 
260 BLUNDERS. 
 
 enforce it whenever the book appears. What 
 would the sum be ? I should think many 
 times the value of the volume, by this time."* 
 
 "'It would, Sir,' said Jefferson, smiling; 
 ' but I should be content with the price of the 
 book, if I could recover it."* 
 
 *' ' And should you really charge the price of 
 the book ?'' I asked. 
 
 *' ' To be sure,' said Mr. Heneage, ' and I 
 should consider him much to blame if he did 
 not insist on the full fine. It is evident that 
 the omission proceeds either from extreme care- 
 lessness, or a desire to defraud, and either way 
 deserves punishing. Promise me, Mr. Jeffer- 
 son, you will charge the full fine."* 
 
 " • Oh ! I will, Sir, I will ' began Mr. 
 
 Jefferson ; but the quick motion of Mr. 
 Heneage's hand stopped his promise. 
 
 " ' Then there is the money,' cried he, ' I 
 
BLUNDERS. 261 
 
 have the book, and will send it to you to- 
 night.' 
 
 " ' You, Sir ! ' said the astonished librarian, 
 ' and when did you take it ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh ! I really forget, you must refer to 
 your books; come, remember your promise: 
 you declared you would enforce the fine, and I 
 desire you will.'' 
 
 '* ' But,'' said Jefferson, (never touching the 
 money,) ' I have not the least recollection of 
 your ever taking a book from my library, — 
 now, to tell you the truth, I had a confused re- 
 membrance that it was Sir Henry Howard who 
 had it — are you sure you had it, Sir? ' 
 
 " iVIr. Heneage smiled, and said, * It was when 
 I was last on the island, and it never crossed 
 my mind till to-day ."' 
 
 "' It is very strange,' said the straight-for- 
 ward librarian, ' you could not have taken it 
 
262 BLUNDERS. 
 
 with you ; for it is one of the Novelist's Maga- 
 zine, and so large you must have observed it, 
 and if you left it at Lord Henry Murray's, I 
 wonder it was not returned.' 
 
 *' Mr. Heneage laughed outright at his cu- 
 riosity, but refused to gratify it, and left the 
 money on the counter, for it was positively re- 
 fused by Mr. Jefferson. Now how different 
 was this from Sir Henry's meanness about the 
 wager : do you now think the two men ought 
 to be compared ? " 
 
 I smiled at her heat, and said, " Very well, 
 my dear, then make yourself happy and content. 
 You have the man you like, do not fret your- 
 self into a fever because there happen to be men 
 in the world whom you do not like." 
 
 " I am not fretting about him,'*'' said she, 
 peevishly, " indeed I am not fretting at all ; I 
 feel so much relieved. Oh ! Joanna, what a 
 
BLUNDERS. 263 
 
 blessing you are to me ; now, this morning, if I 
 had been alone, I should have worked mvself 
 up almost to illness — — " 
 
 She suddenly stopped short, for we had 
 emerged from the Grove, and were nov/ crossing 
 Major Taubman's grounds. She pointed to the 
 stream that runs trifling to one's very feet in 
 passing the Nunnery. 
 
 " It is very strange," said she, " that I never 
 am in these wretched moods, but water meets 
 my eye — never — " and she paused, — " Conis- 
 terre, — that night on the Head ; here — alv/ays — 
 always water ; I believe I am born to be 
 drowned." 
 
 " What folly, Octavia ! this borders on mad- 
 ness; you hencl circumstances to your whims, 
 they do not meet them ; did you not choose 
 this walk .^ did you not entreat me to come ? 
 and now you flatter yourself that ei'e/z^s brought 
 
264 BLUNDERS. 
 
 you to this stream, which, after all, is not deep 
 enoug-h to drown a doo^."" 
 
 I found ridicule an admirable assistant in hush- 
 ing her indulgence of romance. She smiled but 
 it seemed as if she smiled because she did not 
 know what else to do ; for her eye was fixed on 
 the road to Kirk Braddon — mine followed heis. 
 
 " See, Joanna, there is Mr. Heneage ; 'tis he, 
 indeed — it is — it is." 
 
 " Well, my dear, and if so ? but it may not 
 be. I feel persuaded that Mr. Heneage is taller — 
 stay — when he has passed those trees we shall 
 see better." 
 
 " Oh ! no need," cried she, in rapture, " / 
 have mistaken others for him, hut never him 
 for another.''' 
 
 I could not help sighing to witness this in- 
 dulgence of feeling, which, though so charming 
 in its sunny moods, I knew to be so terrible a 
 
BLUNDERS, 265 
 
 gift. It was, in fact, ]\Ir. Heneage, who had 
 walked forward, after leaving us at Mr. Lard- 
 ner's door. 
 
 With all Octavia's faults, I never for a mo- 
 ment suspected her of knowing he was gone 
 that way, when she so earnestly wished to go 
 thither. Her faults were many, but, unfortu- 
 nately, she was not sufliciently ashamed of them 
 to try to hide them. A little more reserve 
 would often have spared her friends'* feelings, at 
 least, and perhaps her own. 
 
 Miss Elphinstone ran forward to join her 
 lover, who seemed little less pleased to meet her ; 
 he certainly was less so, but I remembered that 
 there was always more affection on one side than 
 the other, and in this particular case I believed 
 the lady's preponderated : at any rate, each loved 
 according to their humours, and hers showed 
 more than his. 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
2G6 BLUNDERS. 
 
 " I am very glad I came back this way in- 
 stead of by the Peel road,*" said Mr. Heneage. 
 '' After I left you, I thought I could go to 
 Kirk Braddon and finish a sketch of the church 
 I began last week, and 1 once intended to 
 return the way I w^ent." 
 
 " And what made you take this road ?" asked 
 Octavia. 
 
 " Oh ! to have another view of Fort Anne, 
 to be sure,'' said he, laughing; '"you know I 
 should not have seen it on the Peel road." 
 
 " Nonsense," said she, smiling because he 
 smiled, though never pleased by jesting compli- 
 ments ; " but tell me, which was your first inten- 
 tion.^ I affirm that the first intention is, most 
 times, the happier." 
 
 *^ Ah ! my little metaphysician, this is against 
 the common rule of life — you know, or you 
 ought to know, second thoughts are best." 
 
BLUNDERS. 267 
 
 " Xo, no," said Octavia, " first thoughts are 
 natural^ therefore best ; second thoughts occur 
 on consideration, and are trammelled by other 
 circumstances which are then thought to out- 
 weigh the immediate fact, — be assured we 
 ought to follow the dictates of nature." 
 
 " I thought we were taught to check nature," 
 said Mr. Heneage, gaily. 
 
 " What, do not you like nature ?" asked Miss 
 Elphinstone, "you who pleaded so successfully 
 the superiority of nature over art, the other 
 day.'' 
 
 " You catch at my opinions and tack them 
 in such various ways," said Mr. Heneage, 
 " that sometimes I am at a loss to know them 
 again ; the subjects were so widely different, if 
 indeed, we can properly say they deserve the 
 name of subject ; — but where have we got to ? 
 or, rather," said he, evidently wishing to turn 
 
 x2 
 
268 BLUNDERS. 
 
 the conversation, *' where did we come from ? 
 Oh ! you wanted to know why I came this 
 way ? — well, your curiosity is natural, therefore 
 I will indulge it ; — I am going to call on Sir 
 Henry Howard." 
 
 There was a blank pause after this, — I be- 
 lieve we both felt he had raised, rather than 
 satisfied our curiosity, but Octavia was too 
 proud to inquire further. 
 
 He looked down mischievously at us for a 
 moment, and then said, smiling, " What, not 
 -satisfied yet ? must I tell you why I am going 
 to his house ? You remember, Octavia, vvhat 
 occurred at Jefferson's this morning, and that 
 I acknowledged the fine, as, in fact, I consider 
 I ought to do, to Jefferson ; but the book was 
 not taken out by me, nor did I, on the night I 
 first saw it, know it belonged to a library. 
 Must I tell you all about it ? Ah ! wo- 
 
BLUNDERS. 269 
 
 man's curiosity must be indulged, because it is 
 natural^ but remember, Miss Fane, I only en- 
 courage ^ooc?-nature. Miss Elphinstone knows 
 of a fine on a mis-laid book from Jefferson's 
 library, which I acknoAvledged this morning ; as 
 I told you this moment, I knew not that it was 
 his, when I first saw the said book ; but it so 
 happened, that this morning it was sent to me 
 by Sir Henry, with a note, informing me it had 
 lain at his house since my last visit to Douglas, 
 and he took the earliest opportunity of returning 
 it to me." 
 
 " And why are you going to call .^" asked 
 Miss Elphinstone, eagerly. 
 
 " To inform him 1 have paid the money, and 
 request it to be repaid me," said Mr. Heneage, 
 quietly. 
 
 Miss Elphinstone changed colour, but had 
 not time to answer, for as fate would have it, 
 
270 BLUNDERS. 
 
 we at that moment emerged from the Nunnery 
 grounds and entering the Grove, found ourselves 
 within four yards of Sir Henry and his sister, 
 who said they were going to call on Major 
 Taubman. 
 
 '' I did not expect to meet you here, Miss 
 Fane," said Sir Henry, fixing his eyes pointedly 
 on me ; " I thought you were calling at the 
 Lardners\*' 
 
 " This seems a calling day," said Mr. He- 
 neage, " I was intending to see you this morning, 
 but having met you I will write my reply to 
 your note." 
 
 " You honour me, sir ;" and we passed on. 
 
 " Did I not tell you something would 
 happen ?" cried Octavia to me, the moment we 
 were out of hearing, " Oh ! I felt assured 
 of it." 
 
 " Well, and what has happened ?"" said I 
 
BLUNDERS. 271 
 
 with a voice and manner intended to be much 
 more tranquil than I really felt. 
 
 She looked reproachfully at Mr. Heneage as 
 she said, " They will quarrel — I am certain — I 
 see — it is evident — Sir Henry's biting manner 
 to you, Joanna, once or twice this morning, and 
 Mr. Heneage's determined words : oh ! Brooke, 
 pray give it up." 
 
 " Give what up ?'' asked he, perfectly asto- 
 nished at her earnestness, " my dear girl, when 
 will you learn to let things glide in their own 
 stream ? Trust me, Sir Henry and I have no 
 intention, nay, no room to quarrel — why should 
 we ? I shall write him a request to pay the 
 fine, and v^hen I have explained that I knew 
 nothing of the circumstances, he will do so, 
 and there is an end of the matter. Make your- 
 self easy, and always remember, that it is our 
 mutual duty to render the present hour happy. 
 
272 BLUNDERS. 
 
 then you know the future must be so. You 
 see,'' said he, smiling, " I ah'eady venture to 
 give advice, and I assure you it is what I 
 will try and help you to like. Now, Miss Fane, 
 tell me what you are drawing. I have been all 
 the way to Kirk Braddon to finish sketching 
 that corner of the churchyard with the three 
 old elms, for my mother— a dear friend of hers 
 lies there ; — look, do you know the corner ?'''' 
 
 '^Ah! les trois ormes !'' cried Miss Elphin- 
 stone, " it is near there I wish to lie — I wonder 
 if I shall rest in Kirk Braddon churchyard?" 
 
 " I should rather think not," replied Mr, 
 Heneage ; " and even if you do, these three 
 elms will most likely have ceased to shade 
 the corner you have chosen; — but see we are 
 at the bridge. Now, fair ladies, must I not say 
 good morning ? can you be so unreasonable a» 
 to require me to climb up the Head on purpose 
 to walk back alone V^ 
 
BLUNDERS. 273 
 
 But MissElphinstonedidnotrelinquishhisarm. 
 
 " What, must! ?" he took out his watch — "' I 
 really fear it is Lord Henry's dinner-time, 
 and I must write this note before we go to the 
 Lardners — I shall meet you this evening." 
 
 Still Octavia lingered, and he humoured her. 
 
 " Well then, you must give me some dinner .?" 
 
 *'0h ! yes, yes!" 
 
 And he went with us, and steep as is the 
 Head, Octavia seemed to gather, rather than 
 lose strength, as she bounded forward with a 
 higher colour and brighter eye. 
 
 " Oh ! how I enjoy this wind," she cried, 
 as her hat blew almost off; " I like walking in 
 the wind extremely, but it is very unkind, for 
 it generally gives me a head-ache." 
 
 " I wonder you still like it then," said Mr. 
 Heneage, gazing at her with her hair tossed 
 across her eyes in most admired disorder. 
 
 n5 
 
274 BLUNDERS. 
 
 " Oh ! do you not know there is something 
 agreeable in liking what gives one trouble ? we 
 have nothing to combat in a mild sunny day ; 
 but such breezes as these," she continued, as 
 the wind pressed the flap of her hat down- 
 wards, " must be conquered and respected." 
 And on they hastened, and reached Fort Anne 
 some moments before me, at whom they laughed 
 merrily on my arrival. Now, to confess the 
 truth, there is no one thing I dislike more than 
 feeling that any number of persons, from one 
 to twenty, are watching my arrival at any 
 place ; I know that on such occasions I walk 
 more awkwardly, make more false steps, and 
 feel my arms more de trop than can be ima- 
 gined by those who never remember being so 
 circumstanced; and on this morning I was 
 altogether unhinged ; I felt that they were 
 uncommonly happy : there they stood, blessing 
 
BLUNDERS. 275 
 
 and being blessed in their mutual happiness, 
 whilst / did not feel quite happy ; and when 
 to this was added my nervousness on being 
 watched up the hill, I protest, that I never felt 
 so thankful as when I fairly reached the con- 
 servatory door, and rejoined them. 
 
276 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 '* Nay, these wild fits of uncurbed laughter 
 Athwart the gloomy tenor of your mind, 
 As it has lower'd of late, so keenly cast, 
 Unsuited seem, and strange." 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 DuEiNG dinner, Miss Elphinstone was in higher 
 spirits than usual ; she laughed, talked, and 
 jested incessantly, and teased me because I was 
 serious. At length, however, she tired, and 
 before the cloth was drawn acknowledged she 
 had exhausted herself. " I believe it is the 
 
CONCEALMENT. 277 
 
 wind," said she, " you know I told you it al- 
 ways gives me the head-ache ; but I will write 
 to Henriana Murray, about the plants I pro- 
 mised to nurse for her this winter ; perhaps I 
 shall be better if we leave this warm room."*' 
 
 We adjourned to the Octagon, and as Miss 
 Elphinstone sat down to her desk she threw some 
 paper towards Mr. Heneage, who had quickly 
 followed us, and advised him to send his note to 
 Sir Henry at the same time, " that is,"" and she 
 laid her hand on it again, " if you will write, 
 but pray humour me in this one instance." 
 
 He shook his head and took up a pen ; acci- 
 dentally his eye met mine, as I stood leaning 
 against the chimney-piece. 
 
 " Why are you so unusually grave. Miss 
 Fane ?" 
 
 I too shook my head, but afraid of alarming 
 Miss Elphinstone, and ashamed of being alarmed 
 
278 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 myself, I did not answer. To my surprise he 
 pushed the paper aside, and said, *' Do you 
 advise my not writing this same note. Miss 
 Fane r 
 
 I could not help it — instinctively I glanced at 
 Miss Elphinstone, whose heightened colour show- 
 ed the jealousy I feared to excite, even in a matter 
 of judgment; afraid of increasing it, I answered 
 hurriedly, " Oh ! no, I am sure you will only do 
 what is right." And he wrote and sealed it. 
 
 Miss Elphinstone took it with hers for Miss 
 Murray, and said she would leave them with 
 the servant when she went to dress ; she did so, 
 and soon followed me up stairs. Just as she 
 reached my chamber a ring at the door-bell 
 caused her to go to the head of the stairs, — I 
 happened to want her opinion on some part of 
 my dress, and called her by name. 
 
 *• Hush, hush !"" said she impatiently, and ran 
 
CONCEALMENT. 279 
 
 down stairs. On her return she told me it was 
 Mr. Heneage's servant bringing his master's 
 dress for the evening. 
 
 " Well, and why did you go down, Octavia ? 
 I was asking your opinion about this band." 
 
 "Oh!'' said she rapidly, "Mr. Heneage 
 thought his servant might as well take the 
 notes, but William had just gone with them." 
 
 " Then they would meet on the Head," said I. 
 
 " No, I believe not ; — I think William said 
 he should row across, as I wanted him to re- 
 turn quickly. 
 
 " And now tell me, Octavia, will this band 
 do?" 
 
 " Ah ! I had forgotten — yes, my dear, it 
 matches very well; but do you know, Joanna, 
 I should like extremely to get off' going to the 
 Lardners this evening — I am not at all well, 
 and quite fatigued.'' 
 
280 CONOEALMKNT. 
 
 "My dear Octavia!" and I looked up in 
 surprise, and saw her sitting idly by tlie fire- 
 side. '* How do you mean ? are you really ill ? 
 I thought at dinner I had never seen you look 
 better, or in better spirits." 
 
 " Was I ? but Mrs. Hayward has not 
 sent my dress home ; I cannot go." 
 
 " Your dress! you must excuse me, Octavia, 
 repeating your words, but did you not tell her, 
 this morning, it need not be finished ? I 
 thought we both agreed to wear our crapes this 
 evening."" 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 " Are you really not well ?"" I again asked, 
 as I saw her evidently wishing to express some- 
 thing she did not. 
 
 " Oh ! yesj I am ill indeed and in truth — I 
 cannot go ; ray head throbs terribly. Do, dear 
 Joanna, go to papa, and tell him I am not well 
 enough to go out this evening." 
 
CONCEALMENT. 28l 
 
 To this I readily consented ; but on attempt- 
 ing to divest myself of some of my frippery, she 
 exclaimed, '' Why so ? you will go. Oh ! 
 Joanna, you must — you know this party is made 
 for you and Miss Brackenbury." 
 
 '' That may be ; but it is quite impossible I 
 can go without you — how could I ? I have 
 never been to Mrs. Lardner's and know very 
 little of her — I will stay at home with you."" 
 
 " Not for the world ! I could not think of 
 it ; no, no, go to papa, and tell him."''' 
 
 *' Indeed, Octavia, I cannot go without 
 you." 
 
 Starting up, slie hurried down stairs, and 
 wishing to hear her account, I followed. 
 
 Major Elphin stone and Mr. Heneage were 
 still dressing, and we had to wait some time, 
 during which Miss Elphinstone seemed much 
 discomposed. 
 
282 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 " You are tired, Octavia," said I, " and I 
 should advise you to go to bed, as soon as 
 Major Elphinstone is gone ; we had a long walk 
 to-day." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said she, evidently never hearing 
 a word I had said, and soothing her irritated 
 feelings by tearing a piece of paper she had 
 taken up. 
 
 The gentlemen entered. 
 
 '* What ! dressed first ? " said the Major. 
 " Eh ! Mr. Heneage, I thought ladies were al- 
 ways allowed an extra half-hour ; but how 
 is this ? you are not dressed, Octavia ! " 
 
 " Oh ! papa, I cannot go, indeed — ray head 
 is much worse,'' she continued, turning to Mr. 
 Heneage, who looked his surprise ; " it ached 
 all dinner time, you remember I told you, and 
 now," putting her hand before her eyes, " it 
 is worse than ever." 
 
(•ONCEALMENT. 283 
 
 Major Elphinstone looked towards me. 
 
 " Oh ! Joanna will go with you, papa." 
 
 " No, indeed I cannot— -I cannot possibly — 
 I do not know them ; let me stay with you." 
 
 Mr. Heneage, too, concurred in wishing me 
 not to leave Miss Elphinstone; partly, I be- 
 lieve, because he saw I was very unwilling to 
 go without her, but more from anxiety for 
 her. 
 
 " You will be so dull alone," said he, " let 
 her stay and keep you company."' 
 
 " But no, no," she cried, " I cannot think 
 of it, knowing the party was chiefly made for 
 her." 
 
 " You say right, chiefly," said Major El- 
 phinstone, " for I understood you to say yes- 
 terday it was likewise in compliment to Lady 
 Henry''s guests." 
 
284 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 " My dear father," said Octavia, as if quite 
 wearied, ^' I will go — I see you wish it.*" 
 
 But now Mr. Heneage interfered, and offered 
 cheerfully to stay and take care of us both. 
 Thus we remained alternately offering and re- 
 fusing, till Major Elphinstone declared it was 
 getting so late, something must be determined. 
 
 " Octavia, my dear, could you go, to be com- 
 fortable .?" 
 
 " Indeed no, father," and her quickly 
 changing colour bore testimony to her words. 
 
 " You seemed so lively at dinner," remarked 
 her father, regarding her more in surprise than 
 doubt. 
 
 " I will go, I will," interrupted Octavia, 
 shrinking from his examination. 
 
 " I am sure Miss Elphinstone is right in de- 
 clining to go," said Mr. Heneage ; " what can 
 
COXCEALMEXT 285 
 
 be so miserable as a room full of light and 
 voices, with a head-ache," and he kindly moved 
 the light from before Octavia''s eyes ; she sank 
 on her chair, and said earnestly to me, " Pray 
 go, Joanna, you see papa does not like going 
 without one of us." 
 
 I hesitated still, for I had felt not quite well 
 all the day, and some way my tranquillity was 
 not increased by this freak of Miss Elphin- 
 stone's ; perhaps if I had been quite well, I 
 might not have had a suspicion of its beino- a 
 caprice. 
 
 " There will be Lady Henry, my dear, and 
 Mrs. Heneage," said Major Elphinstone, observ- 
 ing me still waycr, " and we will take every 
 care of vou — will we not, Mr. Heneasre.^ " 
 
 But Mr. Heneage was busy with a sort of 
 by-conversation with Octavia, and as the Major 
 finished speaking, I heard him say to her, " No, 
 
286 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 / 
 
 upon my word, I never doubted it — I saw in an 
 instant, by your heavy eyes, that you had head- 
 ache ; besides, I always believe one excuse; 
 perhaps,'"' continued he, smiling, " if you had 
 made two or three, I should have doubted them 
 all." 
 
 " If, for instance," interrupted the Major, 
 good-humouredly, " you had said your dress was 
 not to your mind, or something of that sort/' 
 
 Poor Octavia's face crimsoned so, that even 
 Mr. Heneage observed it, and but for my rising 
 immediately, to prepare for going, might have 
 remarked it. When I returned to the Octagon 
 room, T found Miss Elphinstone alone, and in a 
 state of great nervousness. She held out her 
 liand to me, as she bade me good night, and 
 when I remarked on her being so feverish, 
 " Yes," said she, " I am very feverish, do you 
 not think I am better at home.^" 
 
CONCEALMENT. 287 
 
 " Heaven knows, Octavia," said I, scarcely 
 aware of my words, for I saw, by her avoiding 
 my eyes that something was wrong. 
 
 We had a very pleasant party, and staid 
 late. After the first entrance I forgot that 
 I had come alone, and, once seated near Miss 
 Brackenbury, felt quite at ease, if not in 
 spirits. 
 
 Sir Henry Howard came in late. Mrs. 
 Lardner observed on his fashionable hours; 
 adding, that she had wanted him to assist in 
 manamno; the loo table. 
 
 There are many people who have two 
 distinctly different voices, and Sir Henry 
 was one of these : — the one he made use of 
 in holding conversation witli any single in- 
 dividual was soft, lisping, and insinuating, but 
 his public voice was round, sounding, and in- 
 quiring. I mean it seemed to inquire for 
 
288 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 listeners. And as on this occasion he stood 
 in the centre of the room playing with his cofFee- 
 spoon with great nonclialance^ he spoke in his 
 public voice, which, though amid many 
 prating tongues, was heard separately and dis- 
 tinctly, like a drum among fifes and violins. 
 
 " Madam, you honour me: — I am proud to 
 find I have been wanted ; but to own the 
 truth, the evening was so fine, I was tempted to 
 a stroll upon the Head, instead of knocking at 
 your door precisely at the critical tea-taking 
 hour." 
 
 Mrs. Lardner smiled and passed on — she, 
 good, easy woman, seeing and hearing no further 
 than the bare words which Sir Henry uttered ; 
 but I, who knew the night was very foggy and 
 untempting to stroll, could not help glancing 
 from Sir Henry to Mr. Heneage. The former 
 had turned towards the chimne3'^-piece and one 
 
CONCEALMENT. 289 
 
 of the young Lardners ; and was listening with 
 apparent interest to a history of that day's 
 shooting ; to wliich he replied in the round 
 voice which sounded gratingly on my ear. 
 
 On turning to Mr. Heneage I could not re- 
 mark any change in his countenance. His eyes, 
 if they had ever straj^ed towards Sir Henry, were 
 now intent upon some charades wliich ]Madge 
 was showing him : and except a very slight ele- 
 vation of the eyebrow, (the only sign of listening 
 which escaped him.) I could not detect the 
 least symptom of that jealousy which was de- 
 vouring me. I believe I looked so fixedly and 
 long at him that he was obliged to meet my 
 eye, but it was so openly, so smilingly, that 
 I felt, if his look replied to my suspicion at all, 
 it was by a glance of increased reliance on 
 Octavia : and once I thought, "And why 
 should I be the only one to doubt her ? Captain 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
290 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Heneage, Madge, every one tells me that the time 
 we stood in INIr. Pell's warehouse was enough 
 to give any one a headache ; — then the wind '"* 
 
 But suspicion would not be banished ; I 
 knew she scarcely ever complained of head- 
 ache, and I also knew she had framed two 
 excuses, so I sat still blaming her, and myself, 
 and Sir Henry ; for I could not divest myself 
 of the idea that he was connected with her 
 refusing to accompany us. Sometimes I flat- 
 tered myself she merely disliked meeting him ; 
 but why need I have been troubled by that ? 
 besides it was what must happen again and 
 asfain : and thus I continued throu"^h the even- 
 ing, alternately blaming myself for my suspi- 
 picions, Octavia for exciting them, and admiring 
 ]Mr. Heneage for being superior to them. 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWER. 291 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 
 
 " Oh! gentle friend, 
 Chide not her mirth who yesterday was sad, 
 And may be so to-morrow." 
 
 When we reached Fort Anne, a little after 
 midnight, I found Octavia had gone to bed, 
 wliich I was glad to hear. She and I slept in 
 the same room, and I was careful not to make 
 any noise to disturb her. 
 
 As I sat curling my hair by the fire, I could 
 
 o2 
 
292 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 
 
 not help calling to mind the scene which she 
 always styled the "Breakfast morning" at 
 school. Unconsciously I stopped curling my 
 hair ; and memory taking entire possession 
 of me, led me gently back till I read, as 
 in a book, all the incidents of that period of 
 our lives. How engrossing such a perusal is, 
 I doubt not all my readers know. How im- 
 patiently I stooped to recover the brush which, 
 falling from my knee, interrupted the survey 
 I was taking of Elphine as she appeared 
 stealing back to her bed the morning of her 
 clandestine visit at Mrs. Leigh's ! I returned 
 to the subject, and strove to take it up where 
 I had been interrupted ; but the noise had 
 roused Miss Elphinstone, who spoke, and on 
 the very subject which occupied me. 
 
 '' I have been watching you a long time, 
 Joanna, you remind me of that morning when 
 
QUESTION AXD AXSWEll. 293 
 
 / came home, and you lay watching ??2C ,• — 
 do you remember ?" 
 
 I told her that was the very event whicli 
 occupied my thoughts. 
 
 " How remarkable ! how very remarkable ! 
 and the coincidence too is very extraordinary ; 
 but I have often observed such coincidences 
 in my life. I like to enter into them — to dwell 
 upon them. Do not you remember my telling 
 you of the coincidences and associations at- 
 tending my wandering near water, and many 
 other similar feelings of superstition which I 
 love to treasure up, and dote on ?" 
 
 " Ridiculous Octavia ! — 'to dote on,' 
 indeed !"" cried I, now fully awakened myself, 
 and seeing my own folly reflected in the cari- 
 cature she had indulged in. " Pray do not 
 indulge in any more romantic nonsense, but tell 
 me how is your head ?" 
 
294 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 
 
 " Better, thank you, much better ; but really 
 now, Joanna, you must excuse my laughing at 
 your impatient inquir}^, for I could have been 
 certain at the moment I spoke, that you were 
 wandering and rioting in as fanciful thoughts as 
 ever / entertain." 
 
 " Certainly as unreal, because past; but not 
 superstitious," said I : " but now tell me 
 what you did with yourself when we left you — 
 how long have you been asleep?" 
 
 She started up, and throwing on a dressing 
 gown, joined me at the fire-side. 
 
 '' Never asleep, Joanna,— how could I sleep ?" 
 and she laughed. 
 
 '' Why not r asked I. 
 
 " Oh ! because I was jealous and thinking of 
 
 what you were doing all the time, to be sure." 
 
 I answered her coldly, for I perceived she had 
 
 spoken evasively, and I felt another twinge of 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWER. 295 
 
 suspicion of her proceedings. As is very natural, 
 where there is a pre-disposition on one side to 
 suspect, and on the other to conceal, we at first 
 fell on indifferent subjects — then conversation 
 languished, and finally died away into some- 
 thing like sullen silence. Have you never ex- 
 perienced the disagreeable circumstance of a 
 similar uncomfortable silence, a growing tacitur- 
 nity ? Though we know and feel at the time, 
 that it will each moment be more difKcult to 
 break through, we still indulge a weak ])ride, 
 which, even while we are thus feeling it, up- 
 braids and punishes us ? In this dilemma. 
 Miss Elphinstone and I soon found ourselves, 
 and it was scarcely possible for it to have oc- 
 curred at a more awkward time. I knew per- 
 fectly well, that the time rmist soon come 
 when I should have finished ; till then I liad 
 the advantage of employment over her, but 
 
296 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 
 
 as my occupation gradually decreased, I began 
 to think she had the more comfortable post of 
 the two, for ensconced in an easy chair, with 
 eyes closed and head reposing, she might be 
 supposed to sleep, but when I ceased to curl 
 my hair, my change of operations would be 
 apparent, and I dreaded the approach of it. 
 A thousand times in a minute I blamed my- 
 self for this obstinacy which grew with that 
 it fed on, yet continued, spite of my self- 
 blame. I once heard a merry wife confess, 
 that she had occasion to bless the accident 
 which spoilt a costly breakfast service; — her- 
 self and husband were rapidly advancing to a 
 similar unpleasant issue, both anxious that the 
 silence should be broken, yet neither of them 
 able to conquer their temper, when, most for- 
 tunately, a favourite cat caused the downfall, 
 which, in destroying the china, gave a reason 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWER. 297 
 
 for a renewal of conversation and a subject to 
 scold upon : my friend candidly acknowledged 
 that the accident was of most fortunate conse- 
 quences, for it gave each an excuse for venting 
 their gathered ill-humour upon the animal at 
 the moment, and she promised and vowed 
 to herself that she would take good care never 
 to bring herself into such another dilemma. 
 
 Here, however, v.as no such prospect formeand 
 Octavia ; we had no living animal in the room to 
 make a stir ; no one was likely to come in to 
 interru]3t us — we had not even the comfort of 
 employment to enable us, as is general in similar 
 cases, to perform a good day's work in an hour. 
 How I longed that she would ask me about the 
 party I had been at, and how she longed that 
 I would enquire about her evening at home, I 
 leave those to judge who have themselves been 
 in the like dilemma, and remember the difficulty 
 
298 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 
 
 of extricating themselves. Unpleasant as m 
 thoughts and cogitations were, they did m«. 
 good, for they made me more charitable to her; I 
 reflected, that if / could so easily be conquered 
 by my temper, 1 ought to be doubly indulgent 
 to hers, and so in the end myself fought against 
 myself, and my better nature was victorious. 
 
 " Well, Octavia, here we sit musing, instead 
 of going to bed —come my dear."" 
 
 " Oh ! do not go, Joanna, I want to talk to 
 
 you." 
 
 I waited in silence, thinking what a pity it 
 was she had wasted so much time. 
 
 *' I have had a most miserable evening," said 
 she. 
 
 " I thought you would have,""* was on my 
 lips, but I recollected my previous bad temper, 
 and refrained. 
 
 " How so, Octavia .'*" 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWER. 299 
 
 " I scarcely dare tell you — but yet I will — I 
 cannot rest without it ; but pray do not blame 
 me much — I was miserable till I did it, 
 and I am miserable now.""* 
 
 This alarmed me, for in that moment I 
 remembered Sir Henry's saying he had been 
 on the Head that evening, and my previous 
 fears that he had been at Fort Anne, seemed 
 to be confirmed. 
 
 " I have kept back Mr. Heneage's letter to 
 
 Sir Henry."" 
 
 "Good heavens, Octavia!" 
 
 " Nav, worse," she continued, " I wrote to 
 him myself, begging he would come here this 
 evening before he went to ]\lrs. Lardner's, and 
 he came, and now you know the worst.'' 
 
 *' Do you know the worst .^"' I exclaimed, 
 thoroughly shocked at her interference ; " how- 
 will Mr. Heneage bear it ? Oh ! Octavia, I 
 
300 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 
 
 could not have believed you would venture on 
 so dangerous an experiment !" 
 
 " It was no experiment,"' said she; " I did it 
 purely to prevent mischief." 
 
 " You have made mischief, say rather, — and 
 so indelicate too, to send for Sir Henry, and 
 particularly as you are situated — what good 
 could you expect to come of such a mad 
 action ?''' 
 
 She was silent, but listened apparently asto- 
 nished at my impetuosity. 
 
 " I cannot imagine how Mr. Heneage will 
 endure the thought of your having stooped in 
 this way to Sir Henry, — it is putting yourself 
 into his power, whicli I could not breathe and 
 bear — such triumph for him ; compromise for 
 Mr. Heneage ! vexation for every one who 
 knows you !" and being completely mortified, I 
 wept heartily. 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWER. 301 
 
 " You never seem to think of the circum- 
 stances which caused me to act so," said she ; 
 '' vou forfjet how miserable I was this morn- 
 ing ; how miserable you were — for you icere 
 anxious, I am certain, I saw it by your looks 
 and nervousness as we walked home, and durin^i: 
 dinner.^' 
 
 " At least I conquered my nervousness, if I 
 felt any, Octavia, ard in my simple opinion, 
 you would have done much more good by going 
 quietly with us to ]\Irs. Lardner's and inducing 
 an establishment of pacific feelings between 
 the gentlemen, than by meddling between them, 
 — especially in a clandestine manner." 
 
 '^ Not clandestinely — no, on my word, I 
 mean to tell Mr. Heneage the first moment I 
 see him." 
 
 " "Well, well, I hope he will bear it better 
 than I expect ; I will try to hope against my 
 
302 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 
 
 fears. No doubt you know your power — you 
 know how far he, like all of his sex, will bear 
 a woman'^s ])rerogative to stretch."" 
 
 She was silent, but her lip quivered. " You 
 are cruel, Joanna, very cruel !"*' and then, after 
 another silence, the large tears wliich had ga- 
 thered and lain some time in her eyes, rolled 
 silently and painfully down her face. 
 
 I can bear to see a woman weep heartily, 
 and passionately, because I know that it is 
 a relief to her, but tears from tlie heart, like 
 hers, long suppressed, speak the anguish 
 which the heart has borne before they were 
 suffered to flow. All the reasoning in the 
 world would not have brought Octavia to 
 her tears ; " Reason, opposed to passion,*" says 
 Dr. Spurzheim, " seldom succeeds, but passion 
 opposed to passion, conquers :" and so it was 
 with her. IVIy distress, my anxiety, had lit- 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWER. 303 
 
 tie effect on her, but her disappointment (at 
 what positively, at tlie moment, did not occur 
 to me) produced a change. 
 
 She was vexed and disappointed tliat I did 
 not ask her what passed with Sir Henry 
 Howard ; but, the truth was, I felt too much 
 occupied with thinking of the consequences 
 of his visit, to give thought to the circum- 
 stance itself. However, as I felt some com- 
 punction for the temper I had the hour pre- 
 vious been betrayed to indulge, I did all in 
 my power, without compromising my con- 
 sistency, to sooth her present distress. A 
 miserable night we passed, and so ill did 
 Miss Elphinstone seem when she appeared at 
 the breakfast table next morning, that nothinor 
 could content the Major but procuring medical 
 advice. 
 
 Poor Octavia remonstrated, but in vain, 
 
304 aUESTIOX AND ANSWER. 
 
 and this was the first, and slightest penalty 
 she paid for her temerity. Immediately after 
 a hurried breakfast, Major Elphinstone walked 
 to Douglas for Mr. Manby. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
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