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 DE LISLE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE SENSITIVE MAN. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 EDWARD BULL, HOLLES STREET 
 
 1828.
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 ., Page 24, line 8, for knitting read knotti7ig. 
 90, — 2, for allusion read illusion. 
 
 LONDON 
 PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, DORSET STREET.
 
 ?a3 ■ 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 *' Well, but hear me, Hubert,^' said Lady 
 De Lisle in her most conciliating accent ; " only 
 hear what I have to say, before you decide 
 on this sudden journey."" 
 
 " The journey is not sudden, Madam," said 
 her son, with a look and manner that seemed to 
 defy alike persuasion or argument. ''I always 
 told you I should spend two years, previous 
 to my coming of age, in travelling : I was nine- 
 teen last month, and so have no time to lose." 
 
 '* As you please, Sir," said Lady De Lisle, 
 and turned from him with an air of haughty 
 displeasure. At the door she stopped ; and her 
 son, half smiling to see how soon she relented, 
 almost started at the cold, determined tone 
 
 VOL, I. B 
 
 )S503X
 
 S DE LISLE. 
 
 in which she added, " Do not be deceived by 
 others, Hubert, or strive to deceive yourself. 
 I will not reward those who thwart me, or think 
 of those who think but of themselves. My son 
 you must be, — my heir you need not be !" and 
 with this threat, often before implied, but never 
 so explicitly mentioned, Lady De Lisle left her 
 headstrong boy to his own reflections. They 
 were none of the most exhilarating. Young De 
 Lisle had no idea of giving up his plan, for 
 when had he ever given up what he had said 
 he would do ? Yet he began to hate it very 
 cordially. It had become irksome to him be- 
 fore this contest with his mother, and he could 
 not help thinking it was very great folly to risk 
 losing a splendid income, merely for the plea- 
 sure of getting the better of her. Then returned 
 the recollection of his former reasons. 
 
 His father. Sir Francis, a cheerful, hospi- 
 table, pleasing man in society, had, from a 
 certain facility of temper, love of ease, and 
 mental cowardice, long been quoted as the 
 tamest of husbands and most inefficient of mas- 
 ters. His lady's will was law. She began 
 with infinite art, for she was a cunning, though 
 not a clever woman, and veiled her encroach- 
 ments on her husband's prerogative beneath so
 
 DE LISLE. 3 
 
 many specious coverings, that the poor man 
 found himself entirely fettered and subjugated 
 before he discovered her drift. Time did but 
 rivet chains more firmly he had wanted reso- 
 lution to throw off at first ; and the earliest days 
 of Hubert were full of reminiscences of his 
 father's slavery, and his earliest resolutions were 
 against such a system ever extending to himself. 
 
 Lady De Lisle, in order to establish her in- 
 fluence with her son, was at great pains to 
 impress him with ideas of her own consequence. 
 It answered in part ; Hubert thought there 
 was no family pedigree like his, no house so 
 splendid, no county so salubrious. He had 
 besides a high opinion of his mother's talents, 
 he admired her manners, and even her beauty, 
 for she was in the prime of life. Nay, though 
 he himself despised his father, he had no idea 
 any one else could be so impertinent, and never 
 would have pardoned a word spoken in derision 
 of him. 
 
 There is often in early youth, when all the 
 feelings are unblunted and new, a quickness 
 of perception that stands in lieu of reflection 
 and calculation. Thus, all De Lisle's companions 
 felt by intuition that such a topic was to be 
 avoided with him. They stopped not to inquire 
 
 B 2
 
 * DE LISLE. 
 
 whether it was guarded by pride, or made sacred 
 by affection ; it was enough for them that it 
 must not be touched. 
 
 In lonely uncommunicated feeling passed 
 the first nineteen years of Hubert's life. To 
 escape from the Egyptian bondage in which 
 his father was held, was his thought by day, 
 and his dream by night. It seemed ungracious 
 always to oppose a mother, who not only ca- 
 ressed but courted him, yet scarcely did he 
 ever accede to her slightest wish without fear- 
 ing that some advantage would be taken of it 
 greater than at the moment was discernible to 
 any but Lady De Lisle herself. Hubert, by- 
 nature frank, generous, and highly gifted, 
 might under other auspices have become an 
 amiable and happy man. As it was, he was 
 neither. But his parents saw few faults in 
 their only child, and of course none in their 
 mode of educating him. Had he not been sent 
 to the best schools, and when at home had he 
 been denied any thing? It is true, he did not 
 in that respect try their patience much, for he 
 Avas moderate in his wishes ; and could he 
 but go his own way unquestioned, and throw 
 his pocket-money to the right and the left, 
 without having to account for it, he gave no
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 trouble, and got into no scrapes. Besides, his 
 masters applauded his diligence, his equals 
 loved his social qualities, his dependants bore 
 testimony to his gentleness and patience. 
 
 Hearing his praises every where. Sir Francis 
 and Lady De Lisle strove not to see that at 
 home he was cold and unbending, engrossed with 
 any thing but what occupied them, and betray- 
 ing at times, when . thrown ofF his guard, the 
 most unqualified contempt for every living thing. 
 The worthy Baronet was chilled and astonished, 
 but his wife merely observed that young persons 
 were usually proud of their talents, and eager 
 to show them in the easiest possible way, general 
 sarcasm. " When Hubert," she would say, 
 " makes the discovery that every fool can find 
 fault, he will change his tone." 
 
 Lady De Lisle did not see that her son's 
 sarcastic turn was not a merry devil, elicited 
 by wild and boyish conversation, but, in truth, 
 the overflowings of a bitter spirit. Young, 
 well-looking, full of health and vigour, mental 
 and bodily, the head of an old family, and the 
 heir to great wealth, every material for happi- 
 ness seemed within his reach ; and his mother 
 naturally concluded that he was happy. If 
 sometimes he disappointed her, in general she
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 was proud of him, and of the consequence that 
 having such a son to marry gave her in the 
 neighbourhood. Besides, she loved him, but 
 she loved power more; and she thought she 
 saw in this wish to go abroad a plan of eman- 
 cipation she could ill brook. She had been 
 an heiress ; and though the sum actually settled 
 upon herself was not very considerable, Sir 
 Francis would have thought he was doing a 
 dishonest thing in leaving the money that had 
 been her*s in any way that did not meet with 
 her full concurrence. 
 
 This Hubert knew, and that it was no 
 idle boast of his mother's that had concluded 
 their conversation. He did not believe, indeed, 
 that her pride would suffer her to alienate any 
 part of her property. She knew well the ad- 
 vantages of wealth ; and that her son should 
 be one of the richest commoners in England, 
 had long been the object of her ambition. 
 That he should eventually, therefore, have 
 more money than he well knew how to spend, 
 young De Lisle never doubted ; but just then 
 he might have none at all ; and though not of 
 very ancient date, he was old enough to be aware 
 that post-horses are things not to be paid by
 
 DE LISLE. 7 
 
 promises ; and that, in truth, the very sinews 
 of his enterprise were thus cracked asunder. 
 Hubert resolved, and re-resolved, then start- 
 ing from a long and not very pleasant reverie, 
 determined to fix on nothing till he had spoken 
 to Sir Francis. 
 
 That he should, in fact, by this means only 
 hear his mother's sentiments modified by his 
 father's placid temper, no one knew better 
 than himself; and it cost his proud soul a strug- 
 gle, thus to force himself to ask for that which 
 would be refused him. But Hubert had a 
 great reverence for justice, though his notions 
 of it were not always as accurate as he 
 thought them, and he judged it unfair to 
 take any sentiment or action of another for 
 granted. Prove them, and let them abide 
 by the test, was what De Lisle both preached 
 and practised ; and, in conformity to this tenet, 
 he now sought his father, to hear from his own 
 lips the objections to his proposed tour. 
 
 Sir Francis had many: he did not like to 
 lose sight of his son, he thought him too young 
 to travel to any purpose, and as he meant him 
 when of age to try his strength in the county, 
 with a view to representing it in Parliament,
 
 8 DE LISLE. 
 
 he was solicitous that he should live amongst 
 his future constituents, and " buy golden opi- 
 nions from all manner of men." 
 
 Hubert entered into all his father's reasons, 
 and refuted them one by one, with as much 
 patience as if he had thought it would be to 
 any purpose; and poor Sir Francis, wko was 
 soon aground in argument, was obliged to con- 
 clude with " Well, Hubert, my boy, it does not 
 signify talking. Lady De Lisle will never hear of 
 it, so we had better say no more just now." 
 
 " Is it ever your intention. Sir, that I should 
 travel?" asked Hubert. 
 
 " Surely, my dear son, some time or other." 
 
 " When I am in Parliament, I suppose ? Run 
 over to Paris during a recess, for example, and 
 take my mother with me as a travelling tutor !" 
 rejoined Hubert with a sarcastic haughtiness 
 not unusual to him. 
 
 Even the meek Sir Francis was fretted, for 
 who can stand ridicule ? He stirred the fire 
 accordingly, which was the symptom that inva- 
 riably betrayed his choler, and as before the 
 coal was v/ell broken, his testiness was always 
 appeased, it may be a hint worth attending to, 
 and might possibly answer by way of nostrum, 
 or calment, to those who have hitherto not suf-
 
 DE LISLE. 9 
 
 fered the ebullitions of their wrath to subside 
 so quickly, all for want of knowing the virtue 
 residing in a poker ! 
 
 Hubert, to whom the sign was familiar, 
 watched the operation in silence, not unmixed 
 with regret at having excited uneasy feelings 
 in the breast of the kind Baronet. He sought 
 to atone for it by a gentler speech, and Sir 
 Francis, the most placable of men, only won- 
 dered he could have felt angry with his dear 
 boy, who did but want to do like other youths 
 — very natural too, that he should, and a great 
 pity his mother did not like it ! So far reached 
 the cogitations of Sir Francis, but no farther : 
 and Hubert retired from his presence, to think 
 over plans that would as effectually take him 
 out of his mother's reach, as the foreign tour 
 could have done ; and not quite certain that 
 patience and economy would not bring even his 
 first plan to bear. 
 
 155
 
 10 J)E LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Whilst young De Lisle, wrapped up in his 
 own consequence, and his deep-rooted notions 
 of independence, was to-day making some ar- 
 rangement that to-morrow saw unmade; and, 
 like many a wiser man, lost in anticipations of 
 the future, was forgetting to enjoy the present ; 
 — time brought events to pass, which no cogi- 
 tations of his could either accelerate or retard. 
 His paternal uncle died, and left him the small 
 younger brother's portion, on which he had 
 himself lived. 
 
 - As De Lisle was not of age, difficulties arose 
 about the payment of the money, but it was 
 not difficult to raise some for immediate use ; 
 so that, in fact, he derived from the will all the 
 benefit he wanted. That he was cheated through 
 the whole transaction was indeed evident ; and he 
 felt it with more bitterness, than in a person so 
 reckless of money appeared altogether natural.
 
 DE LISLE. 11 
 
 It seemed his fate always to see human na- 
 ture in its worst point of view : the idea once 
 caught, seized upon his imagination ; he turned 
 to it upon all occasions, and the scoffing fiend 
 welcomed him each time with more cruel mock- 
 ery than before. 
 
 The instances of management and deceit that 
 had shocked his childhood, were traced, or fan- 
 cied, in every other family, as he advanced to 
 manhood. Believing that every one in this life 
 must either deceive others, or be himself de- 
 ceived, he went about among his fellows, arm- 
 ed, impenetrable, and inflicting on himself more 
 pangs than a host of enemies could have suc- 
 ceeded in fastening upon him. Too generous 
 and high-minded not to scorn deceit himself, 
 he was too vain to think with patience of being 
 a dupe. Sad in solitude, (for what noble spirit 
 but mourns over the depravity of others ?) and 
 constrained in societv, his existence was more 
 irksome than could well be imagined by those 
 who only saw his outward situation. 
 
 As no man can always adhere to a system, 
 be it good or bad, De Lisle had occasional 
 glimpses of satisfaction, in opposition to his 
 tenets. He had instinctive pleasures, for he 
 was benevolent ; and the first emotion is to be-
 
 12 DE LISLE. 
 
 lieve you have done good, and to rejoice in it ; 
 however you may persuade yourself hereafter, 
 that the object might be unworthy, or the 
 means inadequate. The mere spirits of youth 
 and health create an artificial enjoyment; and 
 when you are amused yourself, you cease to re- 
 member how often in others the signs of mirth 
 are the veils in which the proud and the suscep- 
 tible conceal grief from the gaze of indifference. 
 
 De Lisle was too friendly and kind in essen- 
 tial things, as well as in acts of courtesy, not to 
 have many intimates who felt some regard for 
 him, but he was too cautious to have friends : 
 he sought not the confidence he withheld ; but 
 when forced upon him, he never betrayed it. 
 The esteem that was felt for him never bordered 
 upon enthusiasm, and when he saw others, every 
 way his inferiors, excite a sentiment approaching 
 to it, he could have wept to think, that of all 
 living things he alone was unbeloved. He 
 forgot that sympathy is not gratuitous, and that 
 from his schoolboy days to the present hour 
 he had laid no claim to it. 
 
 Distrust and caution are the parents of irre- 
 solution ; and Hubert accordingly rarely knew 
 what he liked or wished. It would have suited 
 him extremely, to have had some one at his elbow
 
 DE LISLE. 13 
 
 to inform him of his own intentions and desires ; 
 but this would have looked like influencing him ; 
 and from influence, as the shadow of controul, 
 his whole soul recoiled. Alas I he was reduced 
 to the sad necessity of forcing himself to wish 
 for something and then forcing himself to get 
 it I He had made up his mind to go abroad, 
 and he now tried to find out where he meant to 
 go. He was at Oxford, and the time approach- 
 ed when all but the very studious were leaving 
 it. It was necessary to make a speedy election ; 
 and so indifferent was he, that, but for the ab- 
 surdity of the thing, he would have got into his 
 carriage, and said, " Drive me to the coast !" 
 
 In this humour he sauntered into the apart- . 
 ment of a young man with whom he spent much 
 of his time, for the cogent reason that he was 
 his near neighbour. He found Mr. Clifford 
 looking over some highly-finished coloured 
 prints. De Lisle had a great taste for drawing, 
 and was himself rather an adept in the art. 
 He asked his friend if he had any thing new 
 to show him ; and the mournful tone in which 
 Cliflbrd replied in the negative, roused his 
 dormant interest. He cast a glanc^ over the 
 disorderly table of the young collegian, and 
 amidst endless pamphlets, papers, and maps,
 
 14 ^ DE LISLE. 
 
 the word " Spa," in large letters, every where 
 met his eye. 
 
 " I believe you are going to Spa, at least 
 in your dreams," said De Lisle jokingly. 
 
 " True," replied Clifford, " in my dreams ; 
 and I ought to go in a more effectual way, 
 but I do not relish the idea." 
 
 " Why not ? it is just the time of the year 
 for it." 
 
 " Ay, fori.a prince who flatters himself it is 
 a retreat ; for a swindler who wants money, or 
 for an invalid who wants the waters ; but for 
 plain, quiet, healthy Jack Clifford, who wants 
 to be at home, it is a very bad time of the 
 year." 
 
 '* All times, by your rule, would be bad. Have 
 you any business that I can transact, for I am 
 going there ?" 
 
 Clifford started, and a ray of pleasure gleam- 
 ed upon his features ; but the animation soon 
 fled, and, as if more dejected for having encou- 
 raged a hope that had vanished, he sighed, 
 shook his head, and said he must go himself. 
 
 " Shall we go together .?" asked De Lisle. 
 
 " No, my dear fellow," said his companion ; 
 " it would be a bore to you, for I shall not 
 travel alone."
 
 DE LISLE. 15 
 
 " Oh, if that 's your mystery," said De Lisle, 
 laughing, " I can't fancy why you hate going." 
 
 *' You are quite out there : I have a mys- 
 tery, but 'tis not my journey. The truth is, 
 I was to have been married next week, but 
 the lawyers dwadle so confoundedly, it may 
 not be this month. In the mean time, my poor 
 sister is dying ; she is ordered to Spa, and to 
 Spa I must take her, where, if she gets better, I 
 can leave her, but if not . . ." Clifford stopped, 
 embarrassed between the two ideas of his sis- 
 ter's death and the return to his love, as not 
 knowing very well which to specify. De Lisle 
 took no notice of the pause, but asked if his 
 sister was not married ? 
 
 " She has been some years a widow," re- 
 plied Clifford, " has several children, the eldest 
 of whom would accompany her abroad, as 
 well as her step-daughter, a very lovely girl, 
 without whose care and tenderness^ I believe, 
 Mrs. Talbot would not be now alive. You see, 
 it will be a strong family party, and more than 
 you would like to join." 
 
 De Lisle reflected for a moment. To offer 
 himself at twenty, as the chaperon of a lady 
 and her family, did seem abundantly absurd. 
 At last, he remembered a man of the name of
 
 16 DE LISLE. 
 
 Emmerson, much older than himself, studious 
 and gentlemanhke, but remarked for the strong 
 and unfortunate propensity of being a hanger- 
 on. His contempt for the style of thing had 
 made him keep out of Mr. Emmerson's way ; 
 but he well knew he would accompany him, 
 or any one else, any where, if by so doing he 
 could live for a certain number of months at 
 some other person's charge. 
 
 Two companions joining a large party seem- 
 ed to obviate all objections, and he communi- 
 cated his plan to CUfford the instant he had 
 formed it. 
 
 " But are you sure you were going to Spa ; 
 that you have time to stay there till I can bring 
 my wife over ; and that all these women ailing, 
 and frightened, and helpless, will not be great 
 nuisances to you-^" 
 
 " Quite sure," quietly replied De Lisle. 
 
 " And I am quite sure/' said Clifford warm- 
 ly, " that be all that as it may, Emmerson is 
 not the companion you would have chosen, 
 except with a view to the comfort of others.**' 
 
 " He is chosen," said De Lisle, — ^" never 
 mind the view." 
 
 " But I do mind," cried Clifford, holding 
 out his hand to his friend, with a grateful look,
 
 DE LISLE. 17 
 
 which the other felt, though he scarcely re- 
 turned the friendly pressure ; " and there are 
 others who will mind, too. But you do not 
 know my Mary ?" 
 
 " Never heard of her till this hour," said De 
 Lisle, smiling at the lover-like eagerness with 
 which Clifford had seized the idea that Mary's 
 gratitude could repay any thing ; " but we shall 
 meet ere long, I hope, at Spa, with a very 
 pleasant preparation to an acquaintance — a 
 mutual good opinion of each other." 
 
 The rest of the day was spent by the young 
 men in maturing their plans, in seeking out 
 Emmerson, whose consent was no sooner asked 
 than gained, and in writing to Mary and to 
 Mrs. Talbot. Two days after, Clifford joined 
 his sister, accompanied her to the sea-port town, 
 saw her safe aboard, (having previously pre- 
 sented Mr. De Lisle and Mr. Emmerson, who 
 were hy chance going the same way,) and then 
 retraced his steps once more to tr}^ his hitherto 
 unavailing eloquence upon the tranquil and 
 impracticable gentlemen of the law, who held 
 in their hands the web of his destiny.
 
 18 DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 If Mrs. Talbot had ever been handsome, 
 was more than her new acquaintance could dis- 
 cover ; but he had no difficulty in seeing, that 
 whatever beauty she might have had formerly, 
 had disappeared with her youth and her health. 
 Her manners, though depressed, were elegant 
 and courteous, and her aspect benign though 
 suffering ; but the least exertion of mind or 
 body seemed too much for her. A sort of 
 feeble compassion therefore, united to the wish 
 of serving his friend's sister, were all the sen- 
 timents with which she inspired De Lisle. 
 
 The step-daughter scarcely claimed his mo- 
 mentary attention — young, timid, anxious ; her 
 heart following every motion of the invalid, 
 Anne Talbot had no time for strangers. She 
 listened to what was said to her with a pre- 
 occupied air, answered absently or vaguely, or
 
 DE LISLE. 19 
 
 not at all, and never addressed her companions 
 except to ask which would be the easiest con- 
 veyance, or the best road for her mother. Even 
 then, it was Mr. Emmerson she spoke to ; Mr. 
 Emmerson whose advice she took; for whose 
 attention she was grateful ; — and De Lisle, little 
 in the habit of being overlooked by man or 
 woman, thought her an odd, shy girl, with a 
 pretty face, and a pair of large, unmeaning hazel 
 eyes, which could neither sparkle with anima- 
 tion, nor shine through tears. 
 
 Anne's sorrow was not picturesque, for, ho- 
 nestly taken up with others, she had no time 
 to display her fears or lament over herself. 
 
 Mrs. Talbot had two children with her, but 
 they were not pretty, and were spoiled ; so that 
 the boy was an active plague, and the girl a 
 passive one. Their half-sister, anxious to save 
 them from danger and bodily ailment, had 
 neither leisure nor inclination to correct their 
 conduct in any respect, and De Lisle accord- 
 ingly felt disposed to quarrel with her for all 
 the annoyance he met with from the children. 
 
 When at last they reached Spa, he establish- 
 ed them in a private house, which he had se- 
 cured, and, with no small sensation of relief, 
 found himself alone and at his ease in a very
 
 20 DE LISLE. 
 
 comfortable hotel, where, to save trouble, he 
 had immediately on his arrival taken up his 
 abode. Even Emmerson had left him free, 
 having the first day of his going out to put 
 down his name (according to the custom of the 
 place) at the bookseller's shop, discovered that 
 Spa was full of his friends ; most of whom he 
 thought likely to suit him better than his 
 young and serious companion. 
 
 Hubert now thought of writing to his mo- 
 ther, who, perfectly ignorant of his motions, saw 
 the date of his letter with equal surprise and 
 vexation. 
 
 However, he was fairly gone, and could not be 
 frightened back ; so she answered his remarks, as 
 if she had known of his journey, and was prudent 
 enough not even to imply any curiosity as to 
 the period of his return. All this was so little 
 what he had expected, that De Lisle first gave 
 it up as a riddle beyond his solving, and then 
 decided that as she was clearly deceiving him, 
 or at least trying to do so, she had probably 
 some scheme in her head, the secrets of which 
 might prove the displeasure she would not suf- 
 fer to evaporate in words. He accordingly threw 
 the letter from him, with more disdain at its in- 
 sincerity than gratitude for its indulgence ; and
 
 DE LISLE. 21 
 
 proceeded to read a string of apologies from Clif- 
 ford, who had hoped by that time to be at Spa, 
 but had been obliged to postpone his journey. 
 
 De Lisle cared not now how long he re- 
 mained at a place, of which the week before he 
 had been heartily tired. The spell that bound 
 him there seemed feeble at first, but was every 
 day rising into importance greater than he 
 could have supposed possible. 
 
 He had been one day sauntering along the 
 sides of one of the beautiful hills that surround 
 the town, when a party of horsemen passed him. 
 A dislike to strangers was an instinctive feeling 
 with Hubert ; and taking out his knife, he pro- 
 ceeded to carve letters on the rough bark of an 
 old oak, merely as an excuse for turning his 
 back upon the passers by. One of the party 
 was mounted on a restive horse, and the ca- 
 pering of the animal induced him to look round : 
 just as he did so, the unruly horse, by a sudden 
 jerk of his head back, snapped his bridle in 
 two ; he swerved in the direction where Hubert 
 stood, who, with a quick eye and steady hand, 
 instantly seized the broken rein, recommending 
 to the rider to dismount. He had no occasion 
 to repeat the advice, for the gentleman instantly 
 sprung from his horse, and, having indulged
 
 22 DE LISLE. 
 
 himself in swearing at the animal a little, turned 
 in the second place to thank the stranger, whose 
 assistance had been so opportune. 
 
 The exclamations of *' Major Wilmot here !" 
 and " De Lisle ! my sober dog, what has brought 
 you to Spa ?" marked their recognition of each 
 other. 
 
 Wilmot eagerly pressed his countryman to 
 accompany him home, where dinner would be 
 waiting for them ; and Hubert, who disliked 
 the Major, his style of life, and his associates, 
 seeing no way of escape but by affronting a 
 man he had just obliged, reluctantly consented. 
 
 It was early in the day for any other place ; 
 but as visitors at Spa are generally mounted 
 and at the Wells by six o'clock in the morning, 
 they must of course dine proportionably early. 
 
 Major Wilmot had a very pretty house, gaily 
 situated just without the town. As De Lisle 
 inhaled the fragrance of the flowers, that were 
 scattered with luxuriant profusion around every 
 part of this fairy dwelling, both within and 
 without, he could not help wondering at the 
 taste and elegance of the arrangements, so little 
 in unison with the habits and temper of the 
 owner.
 
 DE LISLE. 23 
 
 " We are late," said Wilmot, " and our par- 
 ty, 1 fear, has been waiting for us." 
 
 It was the first intimation to Hubert that 
 there was a party at all, and he heartily wished 
 himself in his own comfortable room. But it 
 was now too late to recede ; for Major Wilmot, 
 opening the drawing-room door, ushered him into 
 a more spacious apartment than he expected to 
 see, in the centre of which he beheld a group 
 of persons, not exceeding six or seven, — 
 English, German, and French. When De Lisle 
 had been named to this party, Major Wilmot 
 said, " We must not overlook the lady of the 
 house ;" and instantly led him to the end of the 
 room, where, seated upon a sofa, in a sort of 
 recess, he beheld a quiet-looking person, who 
 bent her head languidly at the introduction, 
 and turned again to listen to a Frenchman who 
 was standing near her, and who with much vo- 
 lubility and gesticulation took up the thread 
 of his discourse where it had been broken by 
 the transient interruption of Wilmot. 
 
 De Lisle had now got to the asylum for 
 shy men — a chimneypiece, and leaning against 
 the corner of it, he had full leisure to observe 
 all around him. 'J'he loud boisterous tone of
 
 24 1)E LISLE. 
 
 Wilmot was what he had always known it, and 
 contrasted with the petit maitre graces of a per- 
 fumed foreigner, to whom he was speaking, \vas 
 almost too broad for farce. A political discus- 
 sion, carried on in low and cautious tones on 
 the other side, came by snatches to his ear, 
 and last, but not least, in this investigation was 
 Madame de Lausanne. She was knitting ; and 
 by the earnestness with which she pursued her 
 employment, and the steadiness with which she 
 kept her eyes down, not once lifting them to 
 the speaker, one would have thought the ivory 
 shuttle she threw over fingers whiter than itself, 
 had been some fairy spell. But for this me- 
 chanical motion, she was altogether inanimate, 
 making no remark on the conversation ad- 
 dressed to her, though she appeared attending 
 to it. 
 
 From the living furniture of the room, De 
 Lisle turned to what was inanimate, and beheld 
 every where taste united to magnificence. He 
 was almost tempted to rub his eyes, to satisfy 
 himself that he was awake, for Wilmot he knew 
 to be as inelegant as he was poor. Still, though 
 every thing surprised him, he was much of the 
 opinion of that Doge of Genoa who visited
 
 DE LISLE. 25 
 
 Paris, and could have said with him, " I think 
 nothing so strange as seeing myself here." 
 
 Dinner Interrupted the train of his thoughts. 
 He lino^ered at the door, undecided where to 
 seat himself, till only one place remained vacant, 
 next Madame de Lausanne. 
 
 She was not sitting at the head of the table, 
 but near an open window ; and as he took 
 his chair, she turned to warn him of its vi- 
 cinity. She spoke in English, and De Lisle 
 thought her foreign accent and dulcet tones 
 lent a charm to the language, of which he had 
 never before supposed it capable. He tried to 
 make her converse, but a few faint monosyl- 
 lables alone rewarded his labour. 
 
 " Do you go to the ball to-night, Therese ?" 
 said Major Wilmot, shortly after the dessert had 
 been set on the table. 
 
 Madame de Lausanne bowed. 
 
 " Then," said he, pulling out his watch, " it 
 is time to go and dress." 
 
 Madame de Lausanne arose. " I shall walk 
 first," said she ; and De Lisle thought she 
 looked at him, but he was not sure, and could 
 not offer himself to accompany her. She did 
 not repeat her hint, but instantly quitted the 
 room. 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 96 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 He was shortly disposed to follow her ex- 
 ample, for the wine passed more quickly than 
 he liked, or was very well able to bear. He 
 was suffered to depart, after promising to look 
 in at the ball in the course of the evening. 
 
 As he passed through the garden, he stopped 
 for a moment to examine a very fragrant shrub, 
 with which he was unacquainted. Its feeble, 
 slender stem seemed by no means adequate to 
 support the large and ponderous blossom, which 
 accordingly, in many places, bent so low as to 
 trail on the ground. Hubert thought it a pity 
 so beautiful a plant should be neglected, and 
 gathering up some of the branches, he fastened 
 them together. 
 
 " I see, Mr. De Lisle is worthy of flowers," 
 Said the soft voice of Therese, and, looking up, 
 he beheld her beside him. The veil, that during 
 dinner shaded, and partially concealed her fea- 
 tures from his view, had fallen back, and the 
 wind had even blown her hair from her fore- 
 head. 
 
 De Lisle thought he had never gazed upon a 
 countenance so singular and powerful in its ex- 
 pression. It was not sad, and yet it left behind 
 it the impression of suffering. It was not 
 animated, yet it bore the stamp of intellect.
 
 DE LISLE. ' 27 
 
 There was repose in every line, and yet it com- 
 municated none to the beholder. Her brow 
 was whiter than Parian marble, but her cheek 
 was sunk and colourless. She said but a few 
 words more, and Hubert scarce heeded their 
 meaning, for she was gone ere they were well 
 uttered ; the door had closed after her, and 
 her *' good evening**' rung upon his ear like bro- 
 ken music. 
 
 " And can this elegant, interesting-looking, 
 superior woman, be the mistress of such a man 
 as Wilmot?"""* thought De Lisle to himself, as he 
 bent his steps homewards. " Where can he 
 have found her, and what could have induced 
 her to accept his protection?" These questions 
 were sooner asked than answered ; and Hubert 
 at that time had no intention of really putting 
 them to any one who might inform him. He 
 came home weary, and was indulging himself, 
 lounging at full length on the sofa, with a 
 book in his hand, which, however, he was not 
 reading, when Emmerson made his appear- 
 ance, dressed with more than usual care. 
 
 " Who are you going with now ?" asked 
 De Lisle. 
 
 " I am going,'' he replied, " with a very 
 pleasant party, who are to chaperon Miss Talbot 
 
 c 2
 
 i2S 1>E LISLE. 
 
 to the ball ; and as you have now been here ten 
 days without looking into one, either at the 
 Assembly Rooms or at Vauxhall, I would not 
 set out without proposing to you to join us." 
 
 '' I thank you," replied his fellow-traveller ; 
 '' I had really forgotten there was a ball, and 
 am afraid, if I go, I must belong to a very dif- 
 ferent set of people.'"* 
 
 '' How so?" 
 
 " I fancy the greatest scoundrel 's in this small 
 town," continued De Lisle : and he gave an ac- 
 count of his morning's adventure. 
 
 " Well," said Emmerson, " there is nothing 
 very deadly in all this : you are not obliged to 
 play with Major Wilmot, or to make love to 
 his mistress ; and no man can help falling in 
 with such acquaintance at some time or other 
 of his life. You had surely better come out 
 to-night, when there will be other people in the 
 room you know, should you grow tired of the 
 dinner-party." Hubert thought so too, but he 
 was idle, and, as usual, irresolute. He de- 
 cided, however, at last, dressed himself re- 
 luctantly, and set out for the ball, wondering 
 what could induce him to take such unnecessary 
 trouble. He soon joined Emmerson, who ap-
 
 DK LISLE. 29 
 
 peared to be in some fidget at Miss Talbot's 
 non-arrival. 
 
 As they were lingering near the door, think- 
 ing every person who entered must be her, 
 Major Wilmot and his companions almost stag- 
 gered in. They were evidently half-drunk, and 
 Hubert could not help looking about, with 
 some anxiety, for Madame de Lausanne. He 
 thought she would never come in such society ; 
 at the very instant she appeared — but oh ! how 
 unlike the calm, pale, silent being he had seen 
 but a few hours before ! She was superbly 
 dressed, and a style of person to become mag- 
 nificence : her figure was rather striking than 
 good, her features more brilliant than regular. 
 In the blaze of lights and jewels her complexion 
 seemed to gain fresh whiteness and polish. Her 
 heavy eye did not now seek the ground, but 
 was directed upon all alike, with steady lustre. 
 The expression of her mouth was altogether 
 changed, now that she both smiled and talked. 
 Hubert gazed upon her with undiminished 
 wonder : he thought her much handsomer than 
 she had seemed in the garden, yet she attracted 
 him far less. At that moment, too. Miss Tal- 
 bot entered : her youth, her freshness, her look
 
 80 DE LISLE. 
 
 of innocent cheerfulness, destroyed at once the 
 effect Madame de Lausanne's brilliancy created. 
 
 De Lisle wondered he had never admired her 
 before, and now followed her airy movements 
 in the dance, and rejoiced in the almost infan- 
 tine hilarity of her countenance, as if she could 
 reflect back on him a part of her enjoyment. 
 
 " Who will tell Miss Talbot of her con- 
 quest," said a voice near him, " for she is 
 too much engrossed to make the discovery her- 
 self.?" 
 
 He turned at that peculiar tone, less sweet 
 than formerly, for there was sarcasm in it, but 
 still so full, so harmonious, that it was irre- 
 sistible. 
 
 " Miss Talbot would have some difficulty in 
 believing in her conquest,*" said De Lisle, " even 
 if it were told her." 
 
 " Why so? Is she so humble, or are you so 
 cold ?" 
 
 " Possibly neither ; but we know each other. 
 We formed part of the same family almost from 
 England.'' 
 
 " Then you must either dislike her very 
 much, or fear to like her more, for you have not 
 spoken to her since she came in."
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 31 
 
 " But I mean it — that is, if she come in 
 my way." 
 
 " Doubtless she ought to be flattered by so 
 much condescension. Is this the way you love 
 in England ?^' 
 
 " I do not know, for I do not love any 
 
 where." 
 
 " You are sincere, at least.'* 
 
 " Why not ? The mere act of loving surely 
 is not meritorious. *Tis barely pardoned in 
 favour of the object." 
 
 Hubert had uttered carelessly what he 
 thought; but as the sound reached his own ears, 
 he remembered that his words were little short 
 of an insult to Madame de Lausanne. 
 
 Shocked and distressed at wounding any one, 
 but particularly the most helpless of a helpless" 
 sex, he laboured to say something civil that 
 should atone for his heedlessness. 
 
 A' Nay," said she, gently checking him in the 
 midst of a speech, which he saw no way out 
 of; " waste no more words to prove to me, what 
 I know already, that you are incapable of giv- 
 ing pain voluntarily : all your generosity can- 
 not save me from involuntary wounds, for such 
 is my evil destiny.*'
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 " But if you feel that it is evil, cannot you 
 avoid it ?" 
 
 ''And starve?" she asked, with a vi^ild look 
 of bitterness. 
 
 Bewildered and uncomfortable, De Lisle 
 scarcely knew what to answer ; when the 
 music ceasing, several people pressed round 
 Madame de Lausanne, and separated her from 
 him. He could still, however, listen to her 
 conversation, which was in every respect the 
 reverse of what had passed between them. 
 
 Gay, affable, and various, Hubert knew not 
 what he admired most in her, — whether her 
 playful imagination, her keen strokes of wit, or 
 occasional glimpses of a more severe and mas- 
 culine understanding. She seemed thoroughly 
 mistress of French, and to have at her command 
 all those little phrases and graceful, apparent- 
 ly simple ways of insinuating something flat- 
 tering to the hearer, which De Lisle had sup- 
 posed none but a native could ever excel in. 
 When she spoke her own German, her cha- 
 racter and her sentiments appeared to undergo 
 a complete change. With the old and the 
 learned she was serious and attentive, enliven- 
 ing the most abstruse metaphysical subject 
 by some sudden flash of genius; while to the
 
 DE LISLE. 3S 
 
 younger she used a sort of lofty imagery, 
 that confounded while it dazzled, leaving an 
 impression of wild, mysterious, and undefinable 
 feelings, combined with no faint admiration for 
 the powers of the speaker. 
 
 All this, and more than this, De Lisle saw 
 and felt : " but what is it to me .?*" thought he, 
 " I cannot serve her, and my admiration will not 
 flatter one who has been accustomed to so 
 much." He believed his interest to arise solely 
 from benevolence, and he therefore gave it 
 free scope. Habitual self-command, however, 
 taught him that it was as safe to avoid her. 
 He did so, and sought the society of the Tal- 
 bots. 
 
 But there the want of excitement was con- 
 spicuous. Mrs. Talbot, indeed, was better, 
 and Anne accordingly more cheerful, and at 
 her ease, and more willing to attend to others ; 
 but the invalid, though stronger, was not 
 talkative, and of Anne''s conversation much 
 could not be made, for there are so many 
 subjects on which a shy girl feels herself un- 
 able or unwilling to speak. Besides, Emmer- 
 son was there to engross every word, and, as far 
 as possible, every look ; and De Lisle soon saw 
 that his friend was seriously playing the lover. 
 
 c 5
 
 34 DE LISLE. 
 
 This was too uninteresting, and Hubert attain 
 returned to his books and his solitude. 
 
 Chance threw Madame de Lausanne once 
 more in his way : they met at a cottage in 
 the vicinity, and, as the object of both was 
 charity, they were pleased at the meeting. 
 Soon after, Wilmot made a party to go to 
 Liege, of which Madame de Lausanne was 
 not. 
 
 Her house, in the absence of those whose 
 characters and pursuits had suited De Lisle 
 so ill, became in his eyes an Elysium. Every 
 thing that luxury, and talent, and accomplish- 
 ments, and the most judicious insinuation of 
 restrained feeling and tenderness could do to 
 form a fascinating whole, was done by Therese. 
 The witchery was not lost on Hubert, who at 
 this time received his letters from England, 
 and without much philosophy found he could 
 reconcile himself to CliflPord's delay.
 
 P£ LISLR. 35 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Time continued to move on, without pro- 
 ducing any material change in the feeUngs of 
 young De Lisle or his fellow-travellers. Hu- 
 bert was every day more enchanted with Ma- 
 dame de Lausanne, and consequently had every 
 day less time to give to the Talbots. He did 
 not however forget them, and should have 
 thought himself wanting in the commonest 
 rules of justice and social obligation, had he 
 neglected persons whom he considered almost 
 as a trust reposed in him. 
 
 There are many who think that to do for 
 others what is barely sufficient for their com- 
 fort, is to fulfil amply all duties ; but this was 
 not the e very-day character of Hubert. He 
 had to satisfy his^ own feelings, as well as theirs ; 
 and not till that was done, was he content to 
 pause in his benevolent attentions. The gra-
 
 36 DE LISLE. 
 
 titude of the invalid was boundless ; and her 
 affectionate manner convinced De Lisle he had 
 done more than was expected. Anne's bright 
 eye, too, would not unfrequently thank him for 
 his kindness to her mother ; it was indeed but 
 the sudden and transient glance that fears to 
 be remarked, while her manner lost none of its 
 coldness : — but what was that to him ? He 
 cared not ; and if self-love could ever sleep with- 
 in the human breast, it may be he would not 
 have seen that it was cold. 
 
 If ever he thought of Miss Talbot, it was 
 but to wonder how women could be so different 
 as Therese and her. Both were accomphshed, 
 both were elegant ; both, without being posi- 
 tively handsome, had grace and beauty suffi- 
 cient to attract. The good qualities of Anne 
 seemed, like her good looks, to be thrown away 
 upon people in general ; they were found out 
 by degrees, made no sensation, and when seen, 
 elicited but a feeble portion of admiration. The 
 same timidity that cramped her abilities, seemed 
 also to restrain and freeze her affections. There 
 was no soul in what she did ; her painting was 
 correct and pure, but it could boast of little 
 effect ; her music was pleasing and scientific ; 
 there was some taste too in her singing, but
 
 DE LIsLK. 37 
 
 no sentiment. When she feebly struck the 
 chords of her harp, and bent her tranquil face 
 over her instrument, to conceal all she could 
 of it, Hubert remembered the masterly touch 
 of Madame de Lausanne; the enthusiasm she 
 both felt and inspired ; the wild impassioned 
 airs she accompanied with a voice of such 
 rich and powerful melody, as, whether speak- 
 ing- or singing, engrossed every faculty of the 
 listener. 
 
 Had De Lisle been older, it is probable that 
 Anne's youth and innocence would have proved 
 a charm more potent than the talents and ma- 
 turer beauty of Madame de Lausanne ; but as 
 it was, he was content to feel the force of ge- 
 nius and passion, and turn from every other 
 attraction as feeble and insipid. 
 
 When he thought of Mr. Emmerson's atten- 
 tions, and their probable result, he could scarcely 
 refrain from a smile of contemptuous compas- 
 sion at the joyless, monotonous future they 
 were making to themselves. It was their own 
 concern, however, and he would not by a look 
 interfere. He was most unwillingly called upon 
 at last to do so by Mr. Emmerson himself. 
 
 The gentleman had proposed to Miss Talbot 
 and been refused ; but Anne had said ^' no" so
 
 38 DE LISLE. 
 
 timidly, and had so hastily plunged into some 
 other subject, that Mr. Emmerson could not 
 persuade himself she was really in earnest. 
 This point he wanted De Lisle to ascertain, 
 who shrunk from the task, and complied at last 
 from mere weariness of the subject. 
 
 Whenever hope preponderated, Mr. Emmer- 
 son found out that Anne possessed every per- 
 fection that can fall to the lot of woman ; but 
 when the opposite scale weighed heavy, she 
 was a mere child, — full of levity, coquetry, and 
 artifice. Without positively agreeing to this, 
 Hubert thought she had not dealt fairly, or 
 candidly, by his companion. Why suffer him 
 to indulge hopes she never meant to realize ? 
 Why suffer him to propose at all ? Hubert 
 forgot, whilst thus passing judgment on an in- 
 experienced, shy girl, that he himself had always 
 thought her manner discouraging — he forgot 
 that Emmerson was a very vain man, and might 
 have insisted on blinding himself to the last. 
 It was so strange to Hubert that a man should 
 ever commit himself in any matter of feeling, 
 that he doubted not for a moment, that Anne, 
 proud of her conquest, had acted ungenerously. 
 
 He sighed to think deceit should inhabit so 
 
 :3*
 
 DE LISLE. 39 
 
 young a breast, and then smiled at his own 
 surprise, since it was part of his distrustful 
 system to expect it every where. 
 
 When he spoke to Mrs. Talbot of his com- 
 mission, her embarrassment looked disingenuous, 
 though it arose merely from a dislike of Mr. 
 Emmerson she was too well-bred to express, 
 and her dread of seeing Anne throw herself 
 away. She said, indeed, that she had no right 
 to influence her step-daughter, and that she 
 wished De Lisle therefore to speak himself, and 
 immediately. Still, there was something equi- 
 vocal in her look, and restless in her manner; 
 and Hubert said to himself, " What can be 
 her object in deceiving me .'" 
 
 Anne was called : she blushed, hesitated, 
 looked down, and implored Mrs. Talbot to 
 answer for her. 
 
 De Lisle could not refrain a motion of im- 
 patience, as he observed, that Miss Talbot was 
 likely to know herself what she thought of Mr. 
 Emmerson, without being prompted. Anne's 
 eyes filled with tears ; but she was angry as 
 well as hurt, and could find courage, therefore, 
 to say the truth, and the whole truth. She had 
 discernment enough to discover that Hubert
 
 40 liE LISLE. 
 
 judged her harshly ; and when she had said all 
 that was necessary of Mr. Emmerson, she 
 added, " That he should think himself ill-used is 
 not surprising, for his allusion respecting me is 
 of long standing, and I wanted both ability and 
 courage to lead myself to the subject, and show, 
 as I wished to do, how much he had mistaken 
 the nature of my attention ; but that you, too, 
 should believe that I acted dishonestly towards 
 your friend — you, who ought to be an equitable 
 judge, since you cannot be biassed by vanity in 
 the cause of another, and are of course unin- 
 fluenced by affection for me, does seem rather 
 strange, and not a little hard." 
 
 Hubert had never heard her say so much, 
 and certainly never with so much animation. 
 He was interested without being convinced, 
 and said something courteous, with which she 
 was willing to appear soothed. He saw, how- 
 ever, that she looked uncomfortable ; and, to 
 show a sort of confidence in her sincerity, asked 
 her why she had ever shown attention to Mr. 
 Emmerson, if he had never pleased her ? 
 
 " I don't think you will quite understand 
 why," said Miss Talbot, '* but I will try and 
 explain myself. Before I ever saw either you 
 or him, I heard Mr. Clifford speak of you both.
 
 DE LISLE. 41 
 
 He praised Mr. Eminerson's abilities and good- 
 nature, and also said his situation was not plea- 
 sant, but how he did not exactly explain. Of 
 you he spoke with an enthusiasm that might 
 have been contagious, had he not always ended 
 by wishing himself but half as fortunate, at any 
 part of his life, as you were at your very onset. 
 Young and wealthy, so situated as to be almost 
 inaccessible to sorrow, attention to you was un- 
 necessary ; but, judging of Mr. Emmerson by 
 myself, I did feel that he required it to make 
 him at all comfortable. I saw an agreeable, 
 obliging person, of a certain age and acknow- 
 ledged talents, forced by his evil stars to be- 
 come almost the dependent of a more fortunate 
 person, much his junior, and who hardly af- 
 fected cordiahty towards him to gild the bitter 
 pill of hourly mortification. I suffered for him, 
 in the beginning of our acquaintance, more 
 than I now think he ever suffered for himself ; 
 but even had I not lent him my own feelings, I 
 should still have naturally treated him with 
 more openness than I could prevail on myself 
 to adopt towards you, simply because he was 
 more attentive to me than you were, and liked 
 me better than you did. Had it stopped there, 
 I should not have been ungrateful."
 
 4«2 DE LISLE. 
 
 " But why, when you saw no symptoms of 
 its stopping there, not change your manner ?" 
 
 " I did, in a great measure ; but he was poor 
 and dependent, and I feared to wound him, 
 particularly as I am neither." 
 
 " You have a fortune then ? I wonder I never 
 heard Emmerson name it !" 
 
 " It may be that he thought it so trifling, com- 
 pared to yours, that it was not worth the naming." 
 
 Hubert said no more, but he did not agree 
 w^ith Anne. He remembered that Emmerson was 
 not indifferent to money or family ; and as Miss 
 Talbot was well born and independent, the vio- 
 lent attachment of his companion, was probably 
 not so disinterested as at lirst he thought it ; 
 and he regretted having been induced to make 
 himself in any way a party concerned. He 
 took a friendly leave of the Talbots, promising 
 never to revert to the subject, and announced 
 his failure to Mr. Emmerson the best way he 
 could. 
 
 That gentleman was piqued and disappointed, 
 but he did not seem very seriously unhappy. 
 As it was not pleasant, however, to meet Anne 
 continually in so small a place as Spa, he left it 
 shortly, in company with some dashing young 
 men, who were content to receive him of their
 
 DE LISLE. 4S 
 
 party, contributing thereto no other quota than 
 that of wit and information. It is said that, 
 being the sole contributor in those articles, he 
 more than once on his tour thought with bitter- 
 ness of Miss Talbot, whose moderate but com- 
 fortable means would for ever have exonerated 
 him from the hard task of applauding nonsense 
 and laughing at dulness. However, he travelled 
 with eclat^ lived familiarly with persons of fa- 
 shion, and gave no money for the distinction — 
 so he comforted himself: and it may be, that 
 many are of opinion he was making an excellent 
 bargain, since he gained, with comparative ease, 
 a good, for which thousands vainly sigh ; and 
 that at the cheap rate of being often provoked 
 with himself, and always heartily tired of those 
 with whom he associated.
 
 44 DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Cliffords came at last, and there was 
 nothing to detain De Lisle any longer at Spa. 
 He was, however, in no hurry to leave it. Ma- 
 dame de Lansanne admired the scenery, the 
 wild picturesque tone of which accorded with 
 her own highly- wrought character, and gave 
 the excitement so necessary to her. 
 
 The road leading to Spa is peculiarly beauti- 
 ful ; winding round the mountains, till at last 
 it reaches the valley, which is smooth and luxu- 
 riant for above a mile, and terminates in the 
 small town, which is only four streets, in the 
 form of a cross, well situated on the banks of a 
 rivulet, and magnificently backed by mountain 
 scenery The hills, though rugged and wild 
 enough, on all sides of this deep valley, to give 
 a broken, graceful outline to the painter, are 
 not deficient in vegetation ; their sides being
 
 DE LISLE. 4t5 
 
 literally covered with towering oaks, and shrubs 
 of a darker hue, and less commanding height. 
 The tinge of autumn was beginning to touch 
 the rich foliage, and the time was fast approach- 
 ing when Spa, losing all its gay visitors, is 
 transformed into a lonely, uninteresting village, 
 cut off from the rest of the world (as the roads 
 then become impassable), and subsisting its inha- 
 bitants sparingly on their winter stores. 
 
 In summer, the women from Liege bring 
 provisions and fruit upon their heads, although 
 the distance cannot be much under twenty miles ; 
 but with that season, luxuries cease, and necessa- 
 ries are scarce. Few, consequently, are tempted 
 to prolong their stay, and Huljert began to talk 
 of England. Thither Madame de Lausanne 
 was willing to accompany him. 
 
 Major Wilmot had never returned, and The- 
 rese, at any rate, felt little bound to him. At 
 the time she first saw him, he was making a 
 good deal by play, and it furthered his plans 
 to have a pleasant house. To effect this, a co- 
 adjutor was requisite ; for Major Wilmot could 
 only drink and play, and he thought himself 
 fortunate in meeting with a person who an- 
 swered his purpose so well as Therese. Besides, 
 though unable to appreciate her talents, he ad-
 
 46 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 mired her appearance, and liked to exhibit her 
 as his property. She was extravagant, to be 
 sure, but she was not violent, or domineering, 
 or capricious; and Major Wilmot, perhaps with 
 justice, thought himself a very lucky man. If 
 both parties were content to meet, so were they 
 to part ; for Madame de Lausanne had only 
 borne with her situation from indolence; and 
 Major Wilmot was almost tired of her, and be- 
 sides no longer wanted her assistance. 
 
 Hubert neither comprehended his cold-heart- 
 edness, nor the lenity with which Madame de 
 Lausanne spoke of it. He did not understand 
 outliving vanity so far as not to resent neglect. 
 Theresa smiled. 
 
 " How should he offend me ?" said she ; " I 
 did not love him ; so that he has hardly the power 
 to give me pain : I did not esteem him ; so he 
 could not disappoint me. I could not have been 
 flattered by affection from such a man, supposing 
 him capable of feeling it (which is doubtful) ; 
 and as I knew I did not possess it, I was never 
 deceived. I am neither his dupe nor his victim. 
 He has not betrayed, afflicted, deserted me — he 
 has only left me, and saved me the trouble of 
 leaving him."" 
 
 But Hubert could not be so indulgent ; he
 
 DE LISLE. 4< 
 
 had always disliked Major Wilmot, and now a 
 sentiment of irritation mingled with his dislike. 
 He hated him for his good fortune in having 
 met with such a companion as Therese ; and he 
 hated him still more for not having felt her va- 
 lue. She was every hour becoming dearer to 
 him, and he could not bear that others should 
 slight either the charms or the talents that 
 held him in silken cords of bondage. The more 
 the masculine character of Madame de Lausanne 
 developed itself, the more cause he found for 
 admiration and reliance. In her presence he 
 forgot his shy and cautious spirit : the most im- 
 penetrable of human hearts was laid open to 
 her eye ; the inmost recesses of his soul, in which 
 he scarcely had looked himself, were sounded by 
 her, and balm flowed in upon them. For the 
 first time in his life, Hubert felt the charm of 
 confidence. Even with him, the first emotion 
 of love was generous and unsuspecting ; and 
 the effect upon his temper, on the whole, would 
 doubtless have been beneficial, had the object 
 been less questionable. 
 
 Since the Cliffords had arrived, he had felt 
 himself exonerated from any particular attend- 
 ance on the Talbots. Clifford, indeed, had done 
 all in his power to draw him to his own cheer-
 
 48 DE LISLE. 
 
 ful fire-side ; but, on finding he had elsewhere 
 " metal more attractive," he forebore to perse- 
 cute him with kindness. When De Lisle's pre- 
 parations for departure were in forwardness, he 
 went to take leave of his former companions. 
 He found Mrs. Talbot alone, at which he re- 
 joiced ; for, though there was something like re- 
 proach in the sadness of her manner, it was as kind 
 and affectionate as ever ; while Anne, ever since 
 the explanation about Mr. Emmerson, had been 
 a shade more distant than formerly. Hubert 
 supposed she resented his interference ; and as it 
 had appeared to himself almost impertinent, he 
 did not wonder at her, though it convinced him 
 that her indifference bordered on dislike. This, 
 however, was not the case : it was not because 
 he advocated the cause of his friend, (as Miss 
 Talbot had once startled him by calling Mr. 
 Emmerson,) that she felt displeased. Anne was 
 almost as shy and reserved as himself; and 
 having made the uncommon effort of explain- 
 ing her conduct and feelings, that she might not 
 lose his good opinion, she was hurt and offend- 
 ed to see she had taken the trouble to no pur- 
 pose. She thought she paid him a high com- 
 pliment in deigning to justify herself. He was 
 not aware of this, for he did not know her dis-
 
 DE LISLE. 49 
 
 position, and his natural distrust not having 
 yielded to her frankness, she somewhat haugh- 
 tily condemned him as unjust and illiberal. 
 
 Mrs. Talbot was surprisingly recovered; she 
 seemed so thankful at the unexpected reprieve, 
 so glad to suffer less, and to be more indepen- 
 dent of the continual attention of those around 
 her, so rejoiced to see her brother and his good- 
 humoured bride, and so disposed to be pleased 
 with every body and every thing, that the be- 
 nevolent spirit of De Lisle could not but sym- 
 pathize with her, and he left her with a feeling 
 of interest greater than he had fancied could 
 ever be excited by so commonplace a person. 
 
 The day was overpoweringly hot, and there 
 was a weight in the air that threatened thunder. 
 Hubert, though little disposed to tempt the 
 storm by a distant excursion, yet feeling hardly 
 able to breath, ascended the nearest hill, where 
 the thick foliage formed the most impervious 
 retreat from the solar ray, hoping on an emi- 
 nence to catch the passing breeze. He toiled 
 on, but the weather proving too sultry for his 
 indolence, he flung himself at the foot of an 
 .aged oak, and was half asleep when voices near 
 aroused him. He raised himself on his elbow, 
 and, looking through his shady bower, perceived 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 DE LISLE. 
 
 two ladies take their seat within a yard of him, 
 separated only by some holly bushes. The first 
 words he distinguished were in the voice of 
 Mrs. Clifford, and spoken with more petulance 
 than he could have fancied from her. 
 
 " Well, my dear, Anne," said the lady, " I 
 would do any thing for you in the world but 
 walk with you. I have raced myself into a 
 fever, and yet could never keep up with you, 
 after all. You have the constitution of a 
 heroine." 
 
 " I am sorry you are tired,*" replied Anne 
 soothingly, " but you will soon recover here ; 
 and for your reproach," she continued play- 
 fully, '' I defy your malice, for no later than 
 yesterday you blamed me for not being a 
 heroine." 
 
 Mrs. Clifford laughed. " You are a sly 
 thing, and do your best to insinuate that you 
 can have the miraculous bodily strength of a 
 princess in romance, and yet escape her debility 
 of mind. However, I won't forgive you, either 
 for leading me such a race in the sun to-day, 
 or for disappointing me when I was at the 
 trouble of composing such a pretty story for 
 you. I tell you, child, no one but you would 
 have crossed the salt seas with Mr. De Lisle,
 
 DE LISLE. 51 
 
 and never made out a small flirtation with 
 him." 
 
 " That is surely but a dull amusement when 
 one has it all to oneself," replied Miss Talbot ; 
 " and I do assure you, in all humility, I should 
 have had my labour for my pains with your fa- 
 vourite." 
 
 " Did you ever try ?" 
 
 " Why, no ; I was always thinking of some- 
 thing else: and when I had leisure to look 
 about me, Mr. De Lisle was not only attached 
 to Madame de Lausanne, but was really won- 
 dering at my insipidity. Contrasted, indeed, to 
 the fascinations of his foreign mistress, I can 
 quite fancy my producing in his breast no other 
 sentiment than ennui ; and as, luckily for me, 
 his is not the style of character to suit my taste, 
 it was not worth fretting about." 
 
 " All this may be ; but I maintain my opi- 
 nion, that he could not have escaped the nets, 
 had you even chosen to spread them.'' 
 
 " Oh ! that for the comfort of my vanity I 
 could believe you !" cried Anne, with mock 
 pathos ; " but alas !" 
 
 " What provokes me," interrupted Mrs. Clif- 
 ford, "is, that you don't do him justice: his 
 urbanity, his elegance, his agreeableness, are 
 
 D 2
 
 53 DE LISLE. 
 
 all lost upon you, and accordingly he is fifty 
 times less agreeable to you than to any one else.'* 
 
 "And do you not think that I more thati 
 share the disadvantage ? He thinks me a sim- 
 pleton, and he almost makes me one : he has 
 acquired a taste for foreign manners, and as 
 mine are very English, (more so, I believe, than 
 will any where make me popular,) it is not pos- 
 sible I should ever please him ; nor, indeed, can 
 I see any very great necessity for my doing so." 
 
 " Now you are off in a tangent again. I 
 am sure you should not quarrel with Mr. De 
 Lisle for his pride, at least." 
 
 " I do not care sufficiently for Mr. De Lisle 
 to quarrel with him about any thing," said Miss 
 Talbot, almost angrily ; " and really, Mary, 
 the infatuation for a man who cares no more for 
 you than he does for me, is very unlike your 
 usual j udgment." 
 
 " So then," cried Mrs. Clifford, " you con- 
 demn me to like only those who like me "^ Why 
 you would destroy half my pleasure in life. 
 Thank Heaven ! I can be concerned for every 
 amiable interesting being that falls in my way, 
 though he may lack the good taste to think me 
 either amiable or interesting. Besides, I have 
 several reasons for caring about this said youth.
 
 DE LISLE. 53 
 
 I not only think him pleasanter than most peo- 
 ple, but I happen to know several traits of him 
 much in his favour ; and then, my husband has 
 the highest opinion of him." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Clifford really loves him ; but 
 Mr. De Lisle only looks upon him as a cheerful, 
 good sort of fellow, that it may be pleasant to 
 meet, and from whom it is not painful to part."" 
 
 " You would fain make me take up the 
 cudgels for my husband, and see me resent 
 the chance of his being overlooked; but it 
 won''t do. Every one has not Clifford's frank 
 manner, or cordial way of saying what he 
 thinks; though he may feel as much — your- 
 self, for instance. In short, I will not give 
 up Mr. De Lisle without cause. Even his pre- 
 sent ill-judged attachment proves that he is not 
 cold-hearted." 
 
 " I do not think so," said Anne gravely. 
 
 " And yet you were against my asking my 
 husband to break the thraldom in which he is 
 held ?'* 
 
 " Surely it is no concern of ours if he has 
 fifty mistresses ; but if he quarrelled with Mr. 
 Clifford, in consequence of any thing urged by 
 him, it would grieve us, because it would very 
 much grieve your husband."
 
 54> DE LISLE. 
 
 " I fear she will ruin him, for, I hear, he takes 
 her to England." 
 
 " He will find plenty of ways of getting 
 money with his prospects, and it is quite fair 
 he should suffer for his folly, to call it no worse." 
 
 " You are quite bitter, Anne, against this 
 poor boy," 
 
 '* Poor boy, indeed ! I cannot spare him any 
 pity, except in so far as one is bound to pity 
 those who do wrong. He ought to be saying 
 his lessons at school, instead of aping the vices 
 of his seniors. And now, my dear Mary, as 
 we are not likely to agree about him, suppose 
 we talk of something else ?^'' 
 
 *' Since there is no convincing you, I believe 
 it would be our best plan ; and, as I am rested, 
 we will set ojff again ; only be merciful, and go 
 a little slower." 
 
 Anne promised to be as demure and tranquil 
 in her pace as might best suit her companion ; 
 and their voices gradually dying away in the 
 distance, left Hubert to the solitude upon 
 which they had so unconsciously broken. He 
 remained motionless for some minutes, thinking 
 over a conversation from which he had derived 
 any thing but pleasure. Mrs. Clifford he knew 
 to be one of those good-humoured persons, by
 
 DE LISLE. 55 
 
 whose praise no one is flattered, because she was 
 ready to bestow it on every one. She always 
 took every body^s part, and her taking his, 
 therefore, was no particular compliment, and 
 did not soothe his self-love, so keenly wounded 
 by the censure of Miss Talbot. It was not to 
 be supposed that he could possibly view his 
 own conduct in the light in which it appeared 
 to her. " Am I not a free agent ?''* thought 
 he ; " and whom do I injure by my love fot 
 Therese .^"" There was no one at hand to an- 
 swer his thoughts, to explain to him how far 
 he was a free agent, and to what extent be 
 might be injuring public morals by his example. 
 He found it easy to satisfy himself of his own 
 virtue, for he compared it to that of his asso- 
 ciates, and by that comparison it was seldom 
 found defective. He concluded that Anne, who 
 was evidently prejudiced against him, could not 
 be expected to judge him fairly, and he won- 
 dered that her observations should have so 
 much effect upon him. It is true, that as he 
 descended the hill, and caught a glimpse of his 
 abode, they were quickly forgotten. 
 
 He stopped to gaze upon the habitation of 
 Therese, to watch the blue smoke curl above 
 the trees, and to fancy her employment at the
 
 56 DE LISLE. 
 
 moment ; perhaps she was singing his favourite 
 song, and he had missed it ; — at any rate, she 
 was thinking of him, and her heavy eye might 
 chide his long delay. He pressed more rapidly 
 forward ; and if again he thought of Anne and 
 her companion, it was with irritation and con- 
 tempt. " Did thei/ presume to despise Madame 
 de Lausanne ?" He contrasted the mental pow- 
 ers of each ; and so much was his mind warped 
 from its native rectitude, by his passion for Th^- 
 rese, that he was disposed to underrate the only 
 virtue he could not refuse to them, and to ascribe 
 to chance, or the regulations of society, their 
 fortunate possession of it. He thought of their 
 youth and inexperience, and was indignant that 
 they should pass judgment on the object of his 
 fondest admiration ; and dare to confound her, 
 of whom they knew nothing, with the common 
 class of the abandoned and mercenary.
 
 DE LISLE. 57 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Young De Lisle had not been many weeks 
 in England, when he found it necessary to re- 
 turn to Oxford. He gave Madame de Lau- 
 sanne her option of remaining in London or 
 removing to his vicinity. She preferred the 
 former, for he had procured her a comfortable 
 house, and some society, chiefly foreign or 
 literary, which was more than he could promise 
 her in the environs of Oxford, The parting 
 with Therese was the first sorrow that had 
 ever assailed Hubert, and he felt it with a 
 keenness proportioned to its novehy. He might 
 as well not have been at college for any thing 
 he could do there; his mind dwelt on one 
 object only, and his pen reluctantly employed 
 itself in any service but her's. In the delirium 
 of his passion, he almost resolved on marrying 
 her as soon as he came of age ; trusting to 
 
 d5
 
 58 DE LISLE. 
 
 the little that could be known of her in England, 
 and to her own fascinating manners, for pro- 
 curing her an introduction to that society in 
 which his wife would naturally move. 
 
 He thought of the anger of his mother, — of 
 the grief of his father, should he take such a 
 step. But once done, they could not undo it ; 
 and though he did not want to make them 
 seriously unhappy, the idea of showing his 
 mother that he was his own master was rather 
 pleasing to him ; and to his father's facility he 
 trusted for a speedy reconciliation. He was an 
 only child, and could not be hastily thrown off. 
 Therese had given him her heart in that only 
 way in which affection was worth having in his 
 eyes — spontaneously. It was unbribed, almost 
 unsought ; and if gratitude was added to her 
 present love, what could ever burst asunder 
 such adamantine chains ? " She has done every 
 thing for me," thought Hubert, " it is but just 
 that in my turn I should do something for 
 her." 
 
 In reflections such as these, the time wore 
 away, and he was already thinking of his return 
 to town, and counting the weeks that must 
 elapse before he was to come of age, when 
 a paragraph in a morning paper, announcing
 
 DE LISLE. 59 
 
 the departure of Madame de Lausanne for 
 Paris, startled him extremely. He read it over 
 more than once. It expressly stated, that the 
 lady had exchanged the protection of a young 
 
 Oxonian, (the eldest son of Sir F. De L ,) 
 
 for that of a French count, in the suite of the 
 ambassador. 
 
 " Infamous libel !" exclaimed Hubert aloud, 
 crushing the paper in his hand, and determining 
 to drive immediately to town, where he should 
 know in a few hours what could give rise to 
 such a report. Not for one moment did he credit 
 the fact, yet as it made him uncomfortable, he 
 thought the sight of his Therese, in her own 
 quiet home, awaiting his return, would be more 
 than usually delightful. He rang the bell, to 
 order horses to his carriage ; but he had no time 
 to give his directions, for the servant who an- 
 swered the summons, ushered in Mr. Seymour, 
 and, in the pleased surprise of beholding a per- 
 son whom he highly valued, he forgot for a 
 moment the previous subject of his thoughts. 
 
 Lionel Seymour was not a man to be re- 
 ceived with indifference by the coldest or most 
 fastidious. He had been at school with Hu- 
 bert ; and though the latter, even in his earliest 
 days, singled out no particular favourite on
 
 60 DE LISLE. 
 
 whom to lavish the name of friend, he was not 
 bhnd to the merits of his young companion, and, 
 being also several years his junior, was flattered 
 by the predilection which that companion avow- 
 ed for him. De Lisle never but once asked 
 leave to bring a guest to his father's house, and 
 the exception was in favour of Lionel. It was 
 not merely for his own pleasure, for, though he 
 had pleasure in the society of Seymour, he could, 
 on his own account, have dispensed with it; 
 and would have done so, but he had once 
 spent a day with Lionel, at the house of his 
 parents, where he had felt for his friend a de- 
 gree of resentment which that friend never felt 
 for himself, on witnessing the injustice with 
 which every preference and attention were 
 heaped upon an elder brother, while the other 
 children appeared to be scarcely remembered. 
 
 There is nothing so quick-sighted of injury^ 
 or even neglect, as a child. If he is sweet-tem- 
 pered and affectionate, he forgets ; if he is proud 
 and noble-minded, he pardons; if he is high- 
 spirited, he resents ; if malicious, he looks out 
 for revenge ; but there is not one that does 
 not feel it where it does exist, and often fancy 
 it where it does not. The younger children of 
 Mr. Seymour seemed long ago to have made
 
 DE LISLE. 61 
 
 up their minds to be perpetually overlooked 
 in favour of their senior ; the girls burned in- 
 cense at the same shrine, and the boys con- 
 soled themselves that the time would come when 
 they must be emancipated from their present 
 vassalage, and make their own way in the world, 
 independent of an elder brother. But to Hu- 
 bert the scene was new and distressing. He 
 suffered for Lionel ; he honoured his forbear- 
 ance ; and, perceiving how easily he might be 
 spared from home, formed the plan of tempting 
 him to the hospitable mansion of Sir Francis. 
 Shortly after this, tlie young men (for such 
 they tried to consider themselves) parted ; Hu- 
 bert for college, and his companion for the 
 West Indies, with the regiment which he had 
 just joined. 
 
 An unexpected event changed Lionel's pros- 
 pects: his elder brother died. He was hunt- 
 ing, and fell from his horse. There were some 
 who thought the injury to the noble horse 
 (who was lamed) was an evil more to be de- 
 plored than the bi'oken neck of the rider ; but 
 his family were not of that opinion. Indeed, 
 extreme grief was said to have shortened his 
 mother's days; and Mr. Seymour, made ex- 
 tremely nervous by this twofold calamity, was
 
 62 DE LISLE. 
 
 anxious to recall his next son, Lionel, and take 
 him out of the army, in which he had once been 
 so eager to place him. After a little more than 
 three years' service, young Seymour quitted a 
 profession, to which he was attached, and set 
 out for England ; but his father lived not to 
 receive him. This event, and his departure 
 shortly afterwards for the Continent, was noti- 
 fied to De Lisle bv a mutual friend ; but until 
 after his return from Spa he had never met 
 Lionel. When he did see him, he was shocked 
 at the change which a few years had wrought. 
 The rosy boy, with dimpled cheeks, and laugh- 
 ing eyes, was not to be traced in the sun-burht 
 complexion and sallow brow that he now wore. 
 His inexhaustible animal spirits, which De Lisle 
 had thought nothing could have power to check 
 or sadden, were tamed down almost below his 
 own. His countenance, sweet and intelligent, 
 was rather serious than animated ; the wild 
 energy of his juvenile manner was exchanged 
 for one dignified and placid, inspiring, at the 
 least, as much awe as regard. He was no longer 
 Lionel Seymour, such as Hubert had known 
 him ; but he was an interesting, amiable person : 
 and De Lisle felt, that, under whatever form 
 he appeared, he was still one whom he was
 
 DE LISLE. 63 
 
 destined to admire and like. He had taken 
 him to Madame de Lausanne's, whose enthu- 
 siasm he had strongly excited by his powers of 
 description and his love of music ; but Lionel 
 appeared not to share her pleasure. 
 
 '* She is highly gifted," he said, in reply to 
 a question from De Lisle, " and, with such 
 versatile powers, must make a most attractive 
 companion. It is good for the pride of genius 
 to behold her ; for, if that could confer happi- 
 ness, she ought to be supremely blessed." 
 
 " And Th^rese is happy, I hope and believe ?" 
 said Hubert, in the earnest tone of interrogatory. 
 A look of mournful incredulity was Seymour's 
 only answer — but it had more effect than words. 
 It said so plainly, " There can be no happiness 
 in the lap of infamy ;" and De Lisle was more 
 and more confirmed in his plan of marrying 
 her; " and then," thought he, " Lionel will 
 not doubt her happiness." There could not be 
 a stronger proof of his regard for his friend, 
 than that of his attachment undergoing no 
 change, when Lionel represented to him how 
 unprofitably he was now spending both his 
 time and money. If he did not follow his ad- 
 vice, he received it kindly, as it was meant: — 
 he had more difficulty in bearing his coldness,
 
 04) DE LISLK. 
 
 in speaking of Madame de Lausanne ; but he 
 did bear it with outward calmness, for he was 
 persuaded that the time would come when he 
 would do her more justice. 
 
 When the first bustle of greeting had sub- 
 sided between the young men, De Lisle pro- 
 ceeded to do the honours of his breakfast, which 
 Lionel did not seem to think at all below his 
 notice. He lingered, indeed, so long at a meal, 
 which Hubert had often seen him swallow in 
 five minutes, that the latter felt almost disposed 
 again to have recourse to his paper. Lionel 
 glanced towards it. 
 
 " Any news .?" he asked hastily, without look- 
 ing up. 
 
 Hubert pointed to the paragraph before men- 
 tioned, and smiUngly replied, " Only this un- 
 meaning squib."" 
 
 Lionel affected to read it, holding his head 
 down, till his companion exclaimed, 
 
 " You are in the strangest loitering mood 
 to-day, Seymour ! you have been lounging over 
 your breakfast this hour ; and now you take 
 another to read half a dozen lines in a 
 paper !" 
 
 Thus urged, Lionel looked up and smiled ;
 
 DE LISLE. 65 
 
 but the expression of his face was so uncheer- 
 ful that it struck De Lisle. 
 
 " And do you," he said, almost disdainfully, 
 " believe this precious story .?" 
 
 *' You do not, I see."^ 
 
 " I ! think you I know Therese so ill ?** 
 
 " She is your mistress, not your wife, and 
 has therefore a right to leave you, without any 
 particular stigma attaching to her." 
 
 '' Doubtless, but I am not afraid of her ex- 
 ercising that right." 
 
 " Indeed !" 
 
 " And why do you say ' Indeed V when I love 
 her so well, am I very vain, do you think, in 
 supposing that she loves me a little ?" 
 
 Instead of replying to De Lisle's question, 
 Lionel covered his face for a moment; then, 
 gazing mournfully at him, softly ejaculated, 
 " My poor Hubert!" 
 
 De Lisle rose hastily — he grasped his hand — 
 he examined his troubled features — he felt the 
 sympathizing pressure of his hand — he saw him 
 avert his dark eyes, but he had already seen a 
 tear in them. He felt that the blow was struck, 
 and that he was pitied ! In such a case, com- 
 passion could not well be free from contempt ;
 
 68 BE LISLE. 
 
 and such compassion, even from Lionel Sey- 
 mour, was more than he could bear. He let 
 his hand fall, and turned to lean against the 
 chimney piece. 
 
 There was a silence of some moments. De 
 Lisle moved his head with apparent effort, and 
 shading his face with one hand, he motioned 
 with the other to be left alone. Seymour 
 promptly obeyed the sign. De Lisle followed 
 his friend to the door, which, with a tremulous 
 hand, he secured against intrusion ; then closing 
 the window curtains, jealous lest a cursory 
 glance might pry into his heart, he flung him- 
 self on the couch, and burying his face in the 
 cushions, with a cry of agony exclaimed, " She 
 has left me ! She never loved me !" 
 
 He lay for a time motionless, overpowered 
 with grief, shame, and irritation ; but pride at 
 last gained the mastery over passion. He arose, 
 and with a look stern and haughty, as though 
 he would bid defiance to every living thing, he 
 went forth to join his patient friend. He would 
 have spoken when they met, but Seymour avert- 
 ing his face, that his eye might not seem to 
 scan his troubled features, hastily interrupted 
 him. 
 
 " I came hither,'' he said, " solely to see
 
 DE LISLE. 67 
 
 you, and I return immediately. Will you ac- 
 company me, or is there any thing you wish 
 done in which I can be useful ? If so, employ 
 me ; if not, let us part for the present. Cor- 
 dially do I sympathize with your sorrow ; but 
 not, as you well know, with its cause. Your 
 loss to me is as the gain of morality, of indepen- 
 dence, of every sacred and honourable feeling. 
 One day you will think as I do— but it cannot 
 be now ; and this is not the moment I would 
 choose, in which to give you pain or displea- 
 sure ; therefore, farewell !" 
 
 He held out his hand to De Lisle, who took 
 it in silent reverence. They walked slowly 
 back to Hubert's dwelling. At his door stood 
 Lionel's carriage; and when it had driven oif, 
 and could no longer be discerned, the son of 
 opulence recrossed his threshold; desolate and 
 abandoned !
 
 68 DK LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 That birthday to which young De Lisle had 
 looked with feelings of anxious pleasure, ar- 
 rived at last ; but it found him neither anxious 
 nor pleased. He had remained at College as 
 long as he could from mere listlessness ; and 
 feeling himself unable to affect a gaiety foreign 
 to his heart, he had urged Lionel Seymour to 
 accompany him to the family mansion, and help 
 him to get through the festivities and amuse- 
 ments which would take place there, in honour 
 of an event which had ceased to interest him. He 
 iiad stayed but two days in London, to get rid 
 of Madame de Lausanne's house, of which the 
 lease was not yet expired, and to collect the un- 
 paid bills she had left behind her. She had dis- 
 charged all the domestics, and Lionel Seymour 
 had placed there but one maid-servant. Hu-
 
 DE LISLE. 69 
 
 bert was relieved to see only a strange face, and 
 could trust himself, when thus unobserved, to 
 go over each untenanted room. In the apart- 
 ment of Therese, he found a parcel directed to 
 himself. He broke the seals, cut through the 
 packthread, and discovered a cabinet picture : 
 it was closed, and the key secured to a piece of 
 writing-paper, which he unfastened, and read 
 these words. 
 
 *^ 1 do you more justice than to suppose, that, 
 parted as we now are, my picture could give 
 rise to one pleasurable feeling. I have there- 
 fore displaced it, and you will find here only the 
 sketch I made of ^o?/, in the early part of our 
 acquaintance. It is sufficiently like you to be 
 valuable to your mother, or your future wife.'' 
 
 There was no signature, but there needed 
 none. Hubert well knew the hand, and was 
 glad to see those peculiar characters had lost 
 much of their firmness. It was a sort of tacit 
 sympathy with his feelings, and the only one to 
 be traced in the note. He did not unclose the 
 picture ; but as he glanced from it to the scrap 
 of writing, he could scarcely forbear exclaiming
 
 70 DE LISLE. 
 
 aloud, " And this, then, is all that remains to 
 me of deceitful hopes and unhallowed pas- 
 sion r 
 
 At his father's house he was received with 
 the warmest demonstrations of joy. Lady De 
 Lisle forgot, in the transport of seeing him, the 
 length of his previous absence ; Sir Francis was 
 always ready to be pleased ; and the voice of 
 numbers, with enthusiasm, real or feigned, 
 hailed the heir, and seemed to think no event 
 in the empire could be of so much importance 
 as the son of Sir Francis De Lisle attaining 
 his one-and-twentieth year. Caressed by his 
 father, flattered by his mother, and gently im- 
 pelled forward by his friend, Hubert got through 
 his task with less reluctance than he could have 
 supposed possible. But the, worst was yet be- 
 hind ; for he now found himself named as a 
 candidate to represent the county in Parliament. 
 This had long been an object of ambition 
 with Sir Francis. He was persuaded that with 
 Hubert's talents it was the shortest way to 
 fame ; and he hoped, by strenuous exertions, to 
 revive the family interest, which, though of late 
 years gone to decay, had once been very consi- 
 derable. Hubert had only the disinclination of
 
 DE LISLE. 71 
 
 diffidence and indolence, and he felt he had no 
 right to oppose such reasons to the earnest 
 wishes of his parents. 
 
 The canvass began, and was carried on with 
 much spirit on both sides. Its result was un- 
 favourable to the wishes of De Lisle, and yet 
 more so- to his disposition. Lady De Lisle had 
 been by much the most successful canvasser in 
 the family. Her quickness, her keen memory, 
 her love of manoeuvring, shone conspicuous ; 
 and Hubert regretting the means employed, 
 and ashamed to see them succeed, was more 
 and more disgusted with the picture. He com- 
 plained with bitterness to Lionel, who smiled at 
 his earnestness, and endeavoured to persuade 
 him, a man might like attention without being 
 either a fool or a knave ; and whether that at- 
 tention was shown by handing his wife into 
 the dining-room, or dancing with his daughter, 
 signified little. 
 
 " And cannot you see the absurdity of a man 
 being returned for a county, because he dances 
 with all the Misses in it ?''"' asked Hubert im- 
 patiently. 
 
 "Absurdity!*' re-echoed Lionel. ''Oh! if 
 that is all your complaint, I offer you bound-
 
 72 DE LISLE. 
 
 less sympathy : we are all very absurd, and to 
 be chafed by the absurdities of others is the 
 greatest of all." 
 
 *' I confess it is very disagreeable to me to see 
 persons so abundantly ridiculous ; nor is the mat- 
 ter mended by the reflection, that I may pos- 
 sibl}'^, in some other way, be as ridiculous myself." 
 
 " That is only because you have not arrived 
 at the firm conviction that you are so. You have 
 at best but a glimmering, which, like all dubious 
 lights, irritates and misleads, instead of quiet- 
 ing and guiding. Once assured that it is our 
 nature, you would be more lenient towards 
 those who yield to that nature more than your- 
 self; for the very simple reason, that it has 
 pleased Providence to endow them with a more 
 limited capacity than yours."" 
 
 " And Brunton, my father's favourite tenant, 
 is it because his capacity is limited, that he is 
 gone over to the strongest side ?" 
 
 " You are starting far and wide from the ar- 
 gument. There are errors of heart as well as 
 of head ; and there are follies and vanities that 
 will sway many who are not defective, either in 
 heart or head. Has your father given notice to 
 Brunton to quit ?" 
 
 '' No, it was my mother's wish ; but as he is
 
 DE LISLE. 73 
 
 not the less a good farmer for having refused 
 me his vote, I petitioned for him, and he re- 
 mains." 
 
 " In a political point of view, I cannot regret 
 your having done so, for at a future election it 
 may tell well, and your party will have much 
 to say about generosity, disinterestedness, &c.; 
 but as I know this was not your motive, on 
 your own grounds I do not approve of it.*" 
 
 " And why not ?'* 
 
 " Because it was a young action, more splen- 
 did than just. I know that, in this land of free- 
 dom, you cannot be said to have a positive right 
 to the votes of your dependents. But Brunton 
 was not a common dependent ; his family has 
 made part of yours, almost from the Saxon 
 days. He himself has been high in trust and 
 honour among you. He has been ungrateful ; 
 and though I would not oppress him, or let him 
 starve, out of regard to my own feelings, I 
 would seek one more worthy, on whom to 
 shower my benefits." 
 
 " Seek, ay I and where shall we find ?" 
 
 " Nowhere, if you do not seek ; in many 
 places, if you do. Hubert, I would rather see 
 you in Christian charity forgive this man, than 
 have you ostentatiously reward his unfaithful- 
 
 VOL. 1. E
 
 74 DE LISLE. 
 
 ness. As it is, you have done very like the 
 French nobleman who saved the life of his 
 enemy, assuring him at the same time that his 
 enmity was unabated." 
 
 " I have no enmity to him ; and it is, at any 
 rate, nothing to him what I may feel, so long as 
 my feelings do not sway my conduct.'" 
 
 " When we say so, we deceive ourselves. In 
 great matters, we may run counter to our feel- 
 ings ; but in small ones, they must and will have 
 an imperceptible influence. Besides, granting 
 it to be the same to him, it is not the same to 
 you. As long as in your heart you refuse to 
 pardon this man, so long do you cherish a sen- 
 sation of sadness and disappointment, not un- 
 mixed with resentment, which can be produc- 
 tive of no good. You feed upon distrust ; and 
 the wound, slight as it may seem at first, will 
 rankle long, because your own reflections will 
 poison it." 
 
 '' I did not think you had been so prone to 
 exaggeration," said young De Lisle, as he 
 turned with a smile from his friend ; and Lionel 
 felt that his words were lost in air. 
 
 There were many things said and done, 
 during the sharpest time of the contest, that 
 acted on the proud and sensitive spirit of the
 
 DE LISLE. 75 
 
 young candidate like a sudden and bitter caus- 
 tic. Sometimes he was disgusted by undeserved 
 praise, and as often wounded by undeserved 
 censure. Many-tongued rumour had magni- 
 fied the visit to Spa, and every one seemed to 
 know that he had not returned alone. Some 
 censured, with unsparing acrimony, his early 
 profligacy ; some sarcastically took his part, 
 and only abused him as a hypocrite, because 
 his elegant manners and steady decorous con- 
 versation gave no warning of such principles. 
 Others (and they did not excite the least ex- 
 asperation in his breast) pitied him as the dupe 
 of an evil-minded man and designing woman. 
 Goaded on all sides, he turned to his fjiends; and 
 their indiscreet defence of every thing he had 
 done, or might do in future, fairly annihilated 
 the little patience he had hitherto retained. 
 
 Much of this suffering might have been 
 spared him, had Lady De Lisle understood his 
 temper better. But careless herself of the 
 squibs and innuendoes which circumstances na- 
 turally brought forward, she read them, re- 
 peated them, laughed at them, and took it for 
 granted her son did the same. Conversations 
 were retailed, and unconsciously exaggerated, 
 that in a more experienced person would have 
 
 E 2
 
 76 DE LISLE. 
 
 produced only contempt, but on the harassed 
 mind of De Lisle they sunk with all the weight 
 of injury. He believed the world to be a com- 
 pound of every thing base, illiberal, and selfish ; 
 and turning from it with loathing, he clung the 
 more earnestly to his natural caution and re- 
 serve, which placed so great a distance between 
 him and others. Believing every one unwor- 
 thy of his regard, he had a sort of savage 
 triumph in thinking that in truth he cared for 
 no one. When the time, however, approached 
 for Lionel Seymour to leave him, he could not 
 but own that he had not included him. He 
 could not detain him, for he knew that Lionel 
 was to accompany a younger brother to the 
 South of France. All his sisters but one had 
 died in infancy — that one had taken the veil 
 abroad, shortly after the demise of her parents, 
 at the request, it was thought, of her mother, 
 who was a Catholic. Two boys remained : the 
 next to Lionel, robust in body, and daring in 
 spirit, had chosen the profession of the navy, 
 and distinguished himself in it ; but Henry had 
 always been delicate, and his gentle, timid tem- 
 per partook of the debility of his frame. 
 Easily abashed, discouraged, and wounded, his 
 mind in childhood required as much fostering
 
 DE LISLE. 77 
 
 as his body — but it required it in vain, for Mr. 
 Seymour lived only for his first-born. 
 
 The mother of this interesting and beautiful 
 family might have been expected to cherish the 
 youngest and most feebleof her sons ; but Mrs. 
 Seymour was a gloomy bigot, who stifled all 
 natural and affectionate feelings as so many sins. 
 Unhappy herself, she thought not of the happi- 
 ness of others : she scarcely believed any felicity 
 on earth could be innocent — she well knew it 
 could not be permanent. Of the eternal bliss 
 of those most dear to her, she thought with 
 doubt and dread. An early disposition mani- 
 fested by her eldest son for the faith she pro- 
 fessed, awoke all her religious enthusiasm ; and 
 in after years, when her hopes of seeing him 
 return to the Mother Church were nearly at an 
 end, she was still loath to give up her favourite. 
 
 Henry went to the same school with his 
 brothers ; and though his life was irksome, he 
 met with more encouragement from his masters 
 than he had ever done at home, and began to 
 suspect that he was not quite the dunce he had^ 
 thought himself. But it is so small a part of a 
 boy's time that is spent with masters ! Henry 
 shrunk from the loud voice, bold look, and 
 authoritative manner of his companions, and
 
 78 DE LISLE. 
 
 often bent beneath the tyranny of those who 
 would have loved and protected him, had they 
 understood him better. Lionel sometimes in- 
 terfered in favour of his young brother ; but 
 though his popularity was useful for a time, he 
 was too wild and unsteady to do him any last- 
 ing good. Hubert had often stood his friend, 
 but merely from compassion for his ill-health, 
 for he thought him childish and stupid. Boys 
 rarely conceal their sentiments; and Henry 
 withered beneath the contemptuous pity of 
 Hubert, and could not venture to make himself 
 better known to one he admired, but who seem- 
 ed to scorn him. 
 
 The gentle boy left school as gentle, and 
 nearly as boyish, as when he came to it. At a 
 time when he should have been actively and 
 usefully employed, he was lingering at home, 
 because his father could not decide what should 
 be done with him. Army and navy were out 
 of the question with his feeble constitution, even 
 had he not already had a brother in each pro- 
 fession. It was hardly thought he had health 
 or abilities to try the law; and the church 
 seemed so like preaching against his mother? 
 that Mr, Seymour did not like to think of it. 
 Trade of various sorts remained, but Mr. Sey-
 
 DE LISLE. 79 
 
 mour had a prejudice against trade. He con- 
 tinued wavering and uncomfortable while time 
 went on, and Henry became a man, utterly 
 idle and unprofitable. Without for a moment 
 fancying himself happy at home, Henry dreaded 
 entering the world ; and carefully therefore 
 avoided reminding his father that he was doing 
 nothing : — and nothing it was, in every sense 
 of the word, for he had not energy to study 
 merely for his own amusement. He wandered 
 about with his gun or his book in his hand, 
 sought the most retired paths, and returned 
 home unquestioned, because he had been un- 
 missed. 
 
 This dreary life did not tend to excite to 
 energy in any pursuit, and accordingly he had 
 none ; and like the savage, who sits down to 
 watch the perpetual flow of a river, he gazed 
 but upon a limited number of objects, and his 
 soul, taking in the sublime, the vague, and the 
 monotonous, remained content with inaction. 
 Then came death into his father's house, and 
 he and Isabella remained alone to greet the 
 much-altered Lionel. Soon his sister departed 
 to consummate a sacrifice that appeared not as 
 one to her ; and Henry, whose nervous system 
 had received a fearful shock from the gloomy
 
 80 DE LISLE. 
 
 scenes he had so lately witnessed, confined to 
 his room with a low fever, saw them depart, 
 and envied those who slept in peace within the 
 cemetery of his ancestors. When Lionel re- 
 turned, he was shocked to find his brother wasted 
 to a shadow, with little chance, and less desire, 
 of recovery. In the morning he lay upon his 
 couch, pale, languid, and speaking only to 
 complain of cold. In the evening he became 
 feverish and restless, and seemed willing to con- 
 verse or read during the hours that sleep might 
 have refreshed him. 
 
 Lionel could scarcely breathe in the suffo- 
 cating atmosphere of the invalid's apartment, 
 and earnestly intreated that the heat might be 
 more moderate ; but Henry looked chilled and^ 
 miserable at the smallest alteration in the tem- 
 perature of his room ; and his brother, unwil- 
 ling to make him more uncomfortable than was 
 necessary, soon ceased to remonstrate. It was 
 at this time that Lionel went to town, anxious 
 to procure the written opinion of a physician 
 there, of whose skill he thought highly on his 
 brother's case. He met Hubert de Lisle, just 
 returned from Spa ; and, in the hope that the 
 sight of an old schoolfellow might rouse Henry, 
 he asked him to go back with him. Nothing
 
 DE LISLE. 81 
 
 could have suited Hubert so ill as leaving Ma- 
 dame de Lausanne, but he could not refuse 
 Lionel, and he agreed to his wishes, deter- 
 mining that his visit should be as short as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Henry's reception did not induce him to alter 
 his plan. The invalid lifted his heavy eye with 
 apparent effort, and suffered it slowly to wan- 
 der over the face and form of his visitor, with 
 an expression of feeble curiosity and weariness, 
 which soon gave place to utter vacancy and un- 
 consciousness. Hubert felt persuaded that the 
 mind of the sufferer must be altogether lost, 
 and beheld him with wonder, some hours after- 
 wards, converse with his brother, and allude, 
 with a sickly smile, to transactions during their 
 early days that had nearly escaped his memory. 
 Whatever bodily disease there might be, Hu- 
 bert felt that it could not but be increased by 
 this want of excitement. Yet how excite a 
 person who felt himself dying, and did not wish 
 it otherwise.? 
 
 Hubert considered for a moment, and finally 
 resolved to awaken his anxiety, if possible, for 
 his brother, whose health, he felt assured, must 
 suffer from his confinement to a sick-room. 
 Henry listened so quietly, that De Lisle feared 
 
 E 5
 
 82 DE LISLE. 
 
 he had made but a feeble impression. Some 
 measures, however, were taken in consequence ; 
 for the invalid peremptorily forbade any one to 
 enter his room in the morning ; and even to- 
 wards night, when it became cooler, he would 
 admit Lionel but for a couple of hours. On 
 his table lay an hour-glass, which he set up the 
 moment his brother entered, (for it was one of 
 his sick fancies to hate the ticking of a watch,) 
 and Lionel found that when the last sand had 
 run, he was regularly dismissed. 
 
 Hubert saw he had done more harm than 
 good ; and as he was going away at a time when 
 Henr}^ was not visible, he left a note for him, 
 representing, that, by exerting himself for his 
 brother's sake, both might derive the most be- 
 neficial results ; but that debarring Lionel from 
 his society, and depriving him of every chance 
 of being serviceable to him, was worse than 
 useless, since, where he meant to benefit, he only 
 gave him pain. The wonder of De Lisle was 
 boundless, when, a fortnight after, he met his 
 friend in the street, and found that the invalid, 
 at his own desire, had been brought to town. 
 De Lisle congratulated Henry on the successful 
 exertion, for he was looking stronger and bet- 
 ter. He found, however, that his own opinion
 
 DE LISLE. 83 
 
 of his situation was unaltered ; for when Lionel 
 was no longer near him, he replied, with his ac- 
 customed look of despondency, 
 
 " It cannot matter where I die, but it may 
 matter where my brother lives; I would not 
 disgust him with his home, by associating it 
 with disease and gloom." 
 
 Change of air and scene, combined with dif- 
 ferent treatment, did much for Henry ; and it 
 was thought his youth, with the assistance of a 
 milder climate, might bring him through. The 
 time fixed for their leaving England had ar- 
 rived, and De Lisle could not ask Lionel to 
 delay on his account a journey from which so 
 much good had been anticipated. He suffered 
 him therefore to depart, without opposition ; 
 though just at that moment he felt without 
 him like one suddenly deprived of the spring- 
 that alone gives elasticity and spirit. His mind, 
 goaded and over-excited, sunk at last as soon 
 as the eye of Friendship was withdrawn, be- 
 neath which he would have been ashamed to 
 droop.
 
 84 DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIT. 
 
 The languid manner and joyless features of 
 their only son, was matter of more vexation than 
 surprise to Sir Francis and Lady De Lisle. 
 Deeply mortified themselves at the failure of 
 his canvass, they naturally attributed his des- 
 ponding appearance to the disappointment 
 which was so strongly felt by thenL They had 
 seen with pleasure the intimacy subsisting be- 
 tween him and Lionel Seymour, and Sir Francis 
 ventured to express his wish, that Hubert might 
 at some future time be so fortunate as to travel 
 in company with Mr. Seymour. This hint, 
 thrown out for the consideration of his imperious 
 lady, was not lost upon her. She had not for- 
 gotten the trip to Spa ; and she determined in 
 future to facilitate her son's plans in their in- 
 fancy, aware that opposition had lent them 
 strength, and that, in fact, he was so little ear-
 
 DE LISLE. 85 
 
 nest in his wishes, that the more she smoothed 
 the way for their accomplishment, the more 
 easily he might be disgusted with them alto- 
 gether. She accordingly told her son, that if 
 his travelling mania had not subsided, now that 
 it had become reasonable to indulge it, Sir 
 Francis would make him an advance to any 
 amount he could desire ; and that if it suited 
 him to join Mr. Seymour and his brother, it 
 would be an additional pleasure to them to 
 know that he had so intelligent and pleasing a 
 companion as Lionel. 
 
 All this was not said without due circum- 
 locution, a vast proportion of which, indeed, 
 Hubert could have spared his mother, as he saw 
 her drift at almost the first phrase she uttered. 
 Unfortunately, he was too indolent seriously 
 to meditate a journey combining pleasure with 
 profit ; and he was too sensible and too well-in- 
 formed, not to be ashamed of racing through 
 a country as fast as he could prevail on inn- 
 keepers to send him forward, without bestowing 
 a thought upon its outward features or its in- 
 ternal regulations. If he had no desire to stay 
 at home, neither had he any to go abroad, more 
 particularly when it was proposed to him, and 
 not an idea of his own. He replied coldly.
 
 86 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 that he was very well where he was, and felt 
 in no way tempted to follow in the loitering 
 steps of an invalid, to whom climate alone was 
 an object. 
 
 He found it less easy to parry the frankness 
 and simple-minded affection of Sir Francis ; 
 and the result of a conversation on the same 
 subject with his father, was the determination 
 either to rally his spirits for the comfort of his 
 parents, or to seek to renovate them in some 
 other land. Faithful to his purpose, Hubert 
 obliged himself to take a part in conversation, 
 or to attend to the chance guests at his father's 
 table; but the effort lost none of its unpleasant- 
 ness from repetition, and he reluctantly con- 
 fessed to himself that he was fit for nothing but 
 the solitude of his own room. So early to be- 
 come a misanthrope, without a single excuse 
 for the unsocial defect; to be weary of a world 
 on which he had scarcely entered, was not, in- 
 deed, very reasonable, and De Lisle felt that it 
 was not ; yet how to shake off the fiend that 
 preyed upon him, he knew not. He reviewed the 
 events of his past life, but he could not think 
 that, few and unimportant as they were, they 
 could have brought him to his present state. 
 He remembered nothing that had very keenly 
 
 ^*
 
 DE LISLE. 87 
 
 interested him, except Madame de Lausanne, 
 and of her he had ceased to think. ' When the 
 first burst of indignation had subsided, he had 
 dismissed her from his mind, as one of the many 
 who live but to prey upon the credulous few. " I 
 will not be so taken in again," thought he ; and 
 he turned to other things, and believed that he 
 was eno^rossed bv them. But he was mistaken. 
 Too proud to probe the wound she had inflicted, 
 it was skinned over, but not healed. He not 
 only had loved her, but she was his first love ; 
 and though he might doubtless again feel the 
 passion, it would never be what it had been ; 
 each succeeding fancy would inevitably be 
 fainter than the one that went before, like the 
 prolonged echo of one sound. There was no- 
 thing to recall an image he so sedulously shut 
 out. Therese stood apart from all his other 
 thoughts. He had met her in another land, in 
 society to which he was unaccustomed, and had 
 mixed in no more. Lionel at first was associated 
 with her perfidy, since he had confirmed her 
 desertion ; but with Lionel he was soon engaged 
 in other pursuits, that recalled not a thought 
 of the being whom he strove to forget. 
 
 Hubert had proved himself to be capable of 
 very real attachment ; and if not easily excited.
 
 88 DE LISLE. 
 
 he was singularly steady and sincere when once 
 attracted ; but he had not naturally a very 
 great share of sensibility : he had no imagina- 
 tion; for, though he would sometimes give the 
 reins to fancy, he always knew it was fancy> 
 and enjoyed it but so far as we enjoy a bright 
 dream that is past. It is rare that a youthful 
 spirit should have no tendency to enthusiasm. 
 There is a noble elevation of mind, which time 
 may overcast, but cannot annihilate ; there is a 
 godlike benevolence, that perseveringly awaits 
 good, though nought but evil be visible; there 
 is a joyous confidence in the existence of vir- 
 tue, though depravity every where blast the 
 eye, — and this is genuine enthusiasm. But 
 there is also a spurious kind, and a much com- 
 moner one, which is the privilege of youth. It 
 is the mere result of high spirits, sanguine 
 temper, and utter inexperience. Yet even this 
 looks amiable: — we are supposed to judge of 
 others by ourselves ; and since we expect good 
 from them, it may be inferred that we are 
 willing, in our turn, to do them good. 
 
 Hubert did not take shelter in distrust, as 
 many have done, as an excuse to himself for des- 
 pising or injuring his fellow-creatures ; he did 
 not separate himself from the cause of man :
 
 DE LISLE. 89 
 
 he mourned over his brethren, and he could 
 have wept, as he decided never to trust them. 
 His benevolence, though sometimes inert, was 
 never extinguished. He often conferred bene- 
 fits alike on the rich and poor, and he did not 
 mar the kindness by doing it ungraciously ; for 
 he followed his first imyndse, as well as his 
 fixed principle ; yet the good he did returned 
 not into his own bosom. He did not know 
 why : he did not guess at the obliquity of prin- 
 ciple that poisoned the spring of gladness 
 within him ; he did not therefore feel that it 
 was increasing ; and he was dull, without know- 
 ing how to account for it. As he pondered over 
 his present feelings, and views of life, with the 
 recollection of how differently for one moment 
 he had thought and felt, the sorceress arose be- 
 fore him ; and for the first time since she had 
 left him, he reflected upon her conduct with 
 curiosity unmingled with bitterness. Now that 
 her influence was at an end, it seemed to him 
 to have been the work of magic ; and he mar- 
 velled at his own infatuation, as the sobered 
 man wonders to hear related the absurdities of 
 which in his drunken fit he had been guilty. 
 He thought how near he had been attaching his 
 fate for ever to this ungrateful woman, and he
 
 90 DE LISLE. 
 
 knew that he ought to be thankful for his es- 
 cape. But the allusion had made him happy ; 
 and though ashamed to think so, he regretted 
 it, — regretted it the more, because he felt it 
 was over for life. " Well, be it so," thought he, 
 impatiently, scorning himself for the feelings he 
 discovered on examining his own heart : "Is 
 it grievous that I can be deceived no more ?" 
 Again he repressed the thoughts that burned, 
 but for want of space could not consume within 
 his breast, and Therese was again forgotten. 
 
 Not many days after. Lady De Lisle, who 
 soon wearied of the society in her house, ex- 
 tensive as it generally was, invited half the 
 neighbourhood to dinner. Three of the fami- 
 lies were musical, and as such welcome to Hu- 
 bert, who in the bustle of an election had found 
 no time for sweet sounds. There was a youth- 
 ful group assembled after tea in the music- 
 room, and De Lisle heard with pleasure that 
 they all sang. He left it to his mother, how- 
 ever, to settle who was to begin, and what 
 music was to be fixed upon ; for Hubert could 
 not hang upon a lady's chair, and twist the 
 hacknied words of a song into some compliment 
 as hacknied to the fair songstress. 
 
 By degrees, trios, duetts, and single songs.
 
 DE LISLE. 91 
 
 were got through, interlarded with those alter- 
 cations that always take place among young 
 persons not accustomed to play or sing toge- 
 ther. There were some sweet voices, and some 
 powerful ones ; but tiiey blended but indiffe- 
 rently : there was some science, and some taste; 
 but unluckily they did not meet in the same 
 performers ; and Hubert, who loved music, 
 but could not be content with the mere jingle of 
 cheerful sounds, was turning disappointed away, 
 when his foot struck against a box on the floor. 
 Lady De Lisle inquired what it could be, and 
 her son held it up to view. 
 
 " That," said Mrs. Parry, a quiet, benevo- 
 lent-looking woman, near whom Hubert gene- 
 rally stationed himself, '^ is Augusta's guitar ; 
 but, as there seems no want of instruments or 
 performers to-night, I did not think of men- 
 tioning it." 
 
 " Oh I but I never heard Miss Parry's voice to 
 the guitar," said Lady De Lisle; " so pray, Hu- 
 bert, take it out of its box, and carry it to her." 
 
 Hubert did as he was bid ; and as Augusta 
 was extremely pretty, and sang well, he rather 
 looked as if he wished what he asked. Augusta 
 smiled, laid her finger on her lips — for though 
 she liked to be listened to herself, she was too
 
 92 DE LISLE. 
 
 good-natured not to listen in her turn to others, 
 — and taking the guitar, she placed it on the 
 table, while Hubert quietly walked back to 
 the place he had quitted. When the song was 
 over, Augusta's companions surrounded her to 
 gaze on the instrument, which was a novelty to 
 them, and ask questions, sensible or frivolous, 
 according to their dispositions. All united in 
 desire to hear it, and Miss Parry was per- 
 fectly willing to gratify them. As she slung 
 the ribbon which was attached to it over her 
 shoulder, and stood among her young com- 
 peers in a graceful and picturesque attitude, 
 Hubert thought he had never seen a fairer 
 form, or more interesting actress. She sang 
 several Spanish and Portuguese airs, with all 
 the spirit and softness which national ballads 
 require ; and there was something in the wild 
 and simple tone so true to Nature, that those 
 who understood least of music were ready to 
 be delighted — perhaps more ready than the 
 others. The effect, however, was great on all, 
 and even Hubert drew near to add his word 
 of praise. Augusta's bright eyes sought the 
 ground, to conceal their increased brilliancy, 
 at the unexpected encomium of the tranquil De 
 Lisle.
 
 DE LISLE. 93 
 
 Miss Parry was so very young, that many 
 prudent mothers wondered at her being let 
 out of her nursery. Mrs. Parry listened to 
 various friendly suggestions upon this topic, 
 and her neighbours sometimes thought they 
 had prevailed upon " dear good Mrs. Parry" 
 to imitate their superior watchfulness; but 
 Augusta's beauty and her singing made her 
 at once so useful and ornamental, that no one 
 thought of a dance or a musical party without 
 relying upon her, and finding excellent reasons 
 for theirs being the only house to which in 
 prudence so young a girl might come. The 
 result was, that she went to all ; and as long as 
 their county afforded not sufficient dissipation 
 to steal the bloom from her cheek, Mrs. Parry 
 was content. So too was Augusta, who to a 
 playful, childish manner united not merely the 
 spirit of coqueting, but its system. Girls, in 
 general, rejoice in going out as an indulgence, 
 and find pleasure enough in novelty ; — not so the 
 beauteous daughter of General Parry. She did 
 not try flirtation as an excitement to destroy 
 the weariness that attaches to dissipation — she 
 thought of that only^ and all other things were 
 made subservient to the ruling passion. There 
 was so much cheerful urbanity in her manner,
 
 94 d£ lisle. 
 
 so much good-nature in her open countenance, 
 something so airy and comic in her natural way 
 of expressing herself, that she was a universal 
 favourite ; and could make advances, or glance 
 sarcasms, in any quarter she chose, unsuspected 
 and unreproved. It was not likely, in her rage 
 for conquest, that Hubert should be overlook- 
 ed ; but Augusta was no contemptible observer 
 of character, for on that depended her success ; 
 and vanity, in some cases, is very clear-sighted. 
 She had known the De Lisles from her child- 
 hood, and was perfectly aware that Hubert was 
 not to be taken by storm. Open flattery, and 
 the undisguised wish to please, have charms for 
 most men who have lived long enough in the 
 world to have sometimes met with unexpected 
 neglect, and oftener with attention, sufficient to 
 blunt their perception of a more reserved good- 
 will. But the youthful spirit, refined and de- 
 licate, likes to make discoveries in sentiment,-— 
 not to have all the trouble taken away, and all 
 the mystery destroyed. 
 
 Augusta, perhaps, did not say all this to her- 
 self; but instinct in young minds, where every 
 thing is fresh, and each impression stands se- 
 parate, and unconfounded with another, will 
 bring as accurate a result as experience and
 
 DE LISLE. 95 
 
 calculation. She resolved first to pique the 
 self-love of Hubert by extreme carelessness, 
 and then to find some way to impress upon him 
 the conviction of a preference she chose not to 
 betray. She well knew, that, with a countenance 
 and manner so flexible, she had it always in her 
 power to attract, were it only by inspiring cu- 
 riosity : but this was not her cue with Hubert. 
 So slight a feeling might give way, as soon as a 
 handsomer or more skilful person appeared on 
 the stage to dispute him with her. No ; she 
 determined, if he was to care at all for her, to 
 bind him by no feeble chain that could be 
 broken at will. There was something so un- 
 designing, to all appearance, in the careless 
 good-humour with which she now replied to his 
 observations. She seemed so engrossed with 
 her songs and her female companions, and so 
 unconscious of his being still there, except when 
 he actually addressed her, that Hubert felt 
 both surprised and amused. There was a sort 
 of charm in this artlessness ; and he almost 
 thought with regret, that it could never last. 
 Once in the world, he thought how soon will 
 all this vanish ! Whatever she may feel, good 
 breeding will prevent her showing how entirely 
 she forgets the existence of those who are stand-
 
 96 DE LISLE. 
 
 ing before her ! With all his distrust, he 
 dreamed not of fraud in one so young and na- 
 tural : thus was he as effectually deceived as 
 the most ardent, generous, and confiding of men 
 could have been. 
 
 The folding-doors at the end of the music- 
 room were now thrown open, and displayed the 
 supper- table in the adjoining apartment, round 
 which, by degrees, every one gathered. Au- 
 gusta lingered to collect her songs and put up 
 her guitar. Hubert assisted her. 
 
 " Will you not sing this one song to me. 
 Miss Parry,"" he said, as she was closing her 
 book, and his eye caught a particular favourite. 
 
 " I never did sing it as it is set there," she 
 replied, " or alone ; but if you will sing with 
 me, I will play it in my own way." 
 
 Augusta saw him hesitate; she knew his 
 shyness, and, getting up, she closed the doors. 
 Laughingly resuming her seat, she said : " The 
 song is rather too much for me, and I could 
 not bear to frighten every one with the ugly 
 faces I must make." 
 
 Hubert thought it would be difficult to dis- 
 tort her handsome features, and half smiled at 
 her caring so little whether he saw them or not. 
 They got through their song ; and Augusta
 
 DE LISLE. 9T 
 
 nearly forgot that she did not mean to praise 
 him, so much was she pleased with his voice 
 and style. 
 
 " I had no notion," she said, " you liked 
 music." 
 
 Had Hubert been in the Palace of Truth, 
 he might, with all the simplicity of self-love, 
 have expressed his wonder ; but he was only 
 in his own house, and smiling, replied, '' I can 
 just fancy the possibility of your neither know- 
 ing, or caring to know, my tastes and predi- 
 lections." 
 
 Augusta smiled to herself, for this was exact- 
 ly what she wanted. With her cheerful, open 
 look, she immediately answered : " Oh ! cer- 
 tainly, there is no law for our keeping a journal 
 of each other's accomplishments." This simple 
 way of agreeing with him did not mend the 
 matter, yet he constrained himself to say : 
 
 " Miss Parry's are too evident to require a 
 journal." 
 
 " Too much displayed, I suppose you raean,**' 
 she rejoined quickly ; and, as if to finish 
 the conversation, struck a few chords on the 
 organ. 
 
 " Oh ! do go on ; but let me blow. You need 
 not work double tides." 
 Vol. I. F
 
 98 DE LISLE. 
 
 Augusta did go on, and it was well for Hu- 
 bert that his occupation was a mere mechanical 
 one. She played a German piece, sad, slow, 
 and magnificent ; the very piece Therese de- 
 lighted in, which De Lisle had never heard 
 played but by her. In vain was now the taste 
 and feeling of Augusta displayed, in vain her 
 youth and beauty. A form filled the mind of 
 Hubert, less fair, less fresh, but once how dear ! 
 He' remembered every turn, every pause in the 
 playing of Madame de Lausanne ; he remem- 
 bered her countenance, so singular, so sublime, 
 so in unison with the wild impassioned melody 
 she produced. He started as from a dream as 
 Augusta abruptly broke off, for the carriage 
 was at the door, and Mrs. Parry summoned 
 her daughter. Hubert took the hand of 
 Augusta to lead her out, and helped his father 
 to wrap her in her shawl ; but he could not 
 speak ; and Augusta, aware of the effect she had 
 produced, though entirely ignorant of what his 
 impression really was, augured well from his 
 silence. 
 
 The night was fresh, and the air seemed 
 to restore some order to De Lisle's faculties ; he 
 loitered on the steps, even after the last car- 
 riage had driven off, and the last farewell had
 
 DE LISLE. 99 
 
 been exchanged. When he did enter the house, 
 he turned mechanically to the music-room. It 
 was deserted ; Sir Francis and Lady De Lisle 
 had not returned to it, and it received no light 
 but from the servants' candles in the supper- 
 room, who were busily removing the food. 
 
 Hubert sat down by the organ, unconscious 
 that he should soon be left in utter obscurity. 
 Finding, however, that this was the case, as 
 the last servant withdrew he raised his voice 
 to ask for a light, but was not heard. The 
 sudden stillness and 'darkness that succeeded 
 a brilliant party, did not tend to turn his 
 thoughts from what now engrossed them. His 
 hand dropped upon the organ. Though 
 ignorant of music, he possessed a sufficient- 
 ly good ear to play from memory any thing 
 that had pleased him. He could not resist 
 trying what Augusta had left unfinished. 
 He played it over and over again, each time 
 trying to imitate Madame de Lausanne's man- 
 ner more, and each time thinking less of 
 Augusta Parry. The effect of music can 
 only be understood by those who love it. Hu- 
 bert at last bent his head over the organ, and 
 burst into tears. They did not all flow for 
 Therese, but they were associated with her : 
 
 F 2
 
 100 DE LISLE. 
 
 and they were the first he had given to her and 
 his lost happiness. At last he felt them fall 
 upon his hand, and started, ashamed, though 
 in darkness and alone, that ever they could have 
 had existence. 
 
 He retired to his own apartment, and awoke 
 on the following morning in nearly his usual 
 state of quietude. Still the same idea haunted 
 him to which he had yielded the evening before. 
 " If I could see her," he thought, " and hear 
 from her own lips why she left me, the matter 
 would be at rest at once ; and when the mys- 
 tery ceased, even my curiosity would have an 
 end.'' True, he knew not where to find her ; 
 but she had gone to Paris, and could easily be 
 traced. Lionel was there, and he could not 
 have a better ostensible reason for taking that 
 route. He considered of it a little longer, and 
 nothing occurring to turn his thoughts into 
 any other channel, he told his father he had 
 decided on adopting the plan proposed by him, 
 and with but little delay began his journey.
 
 DE LISLE. 101 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 By the time Hubert had reached Paris, 
 the motive for the exertion was so much weak- 
 ened as to be nearly lost. Sentiments and af- 
 fections that actually exist when brought to 
 the trial, cannot but overpower the mere re- 
 membrance of feelings and passions, however 
 powerful at their birth. The first thought with 
 young De Lisle, when he awoke in the capital 
 of France, was, " To-day I shall see my friend;'' 
 and he sallied forth in pursuit of him, with a 
 degree of eagerness that would have convinced 
 any beholder that it was indeed friendship that 
 had drawn him across the sea. The young men 
 met with nearly equal pleasure ; they said little, 
 indeed, about it; it was not their way : and since 
 each knew what the other thought, it was unne- 
 cessary to indulge the spectators with a scene. 
 Some foreigners, who were present, gazed on
 
 102 DE LISLE. 
 
 the English meeting as we should examine a 
 curiosity in nature. 
 
 " Behold," said they, " the greeting of friends I 
 and after the unexpected appearance of one of 
 them too !" 
 
 '' English sensibility, gentlemen," said Henry, 
 who was sufficiently recovered to be of the party, 
 " does not, I confess, sparkle like your Cham- 
 paign, but neither does it become dead when 
 exposed to the air ;" and as he spoke, he rose 
 languidly from his chair and held out his hand 
 to Hubert. The latter beheld with pleasure 
 the astonishing improvement in the appearance 
 of the invalid. 
 
 " I am not ungrateful to Paris,"" said Henry 
 smiling, " yet I cannot attribute to its salubrity 
 alone my renovation. You do not know that 
 Frank is of our party ?'' 
 " Your brother ! — and since when ?'" 
 ^' He arrived just as we were leaving Eng- 
 land ; his ship is repairing, and he has accom- 
 panied us hither in so elevated a state of spirits, 
 that, much as I admire them, I am occasionally 
 forced to fly and take refuge from the whirl- 
 wind in the quiet of my own apartment.'^ 
 
 " Don't make Hubert quake," said Lionel 
 laughing, '' before the time ; I dare say he will
 
 DE LISLE. lOS 
 
 give in, and confess himself overpowered, almost 
 as soon as you." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by the en- 
 trance of its subject. Frank Seymour had just 
 been made master and commander, and had not 
 yet recovered from the transport with which he 
 first heard of his promotion. It had, indeed, 
 been deserved by a very gallant action; but 
 spirit and skill are so common in the British 
 navy, that each particular trait can hardly meet 
 its reward, and as Seymour knew he had not 
 much home interest, he was not sanguine. In 
 proportion to the modesty of his expectations, 
 was the feeling of enchantment with which he 
 met his success. Bold, impetuous, noble-minded 
 and generous, he swayed all around him, both 
 by his amiable qualities and his defects. So 
 warm a friend was worth securing, and so vehe- 
 ment an opponent could not be borne down. 
 He was always in motion, always doing some- 
 thing ; and if he were not suffered to do good, 
 no one doubted, that sooner than be quiet he 
 would do mischief. 
 
 His language partook of the warmth of his 
 character ; neither words or feelings ever failed 
 him : his eloquence, therefore, was resistless, 
 though in common conversation he wanted the
 
 104 DE LISLE. 
 
 singular polish of Lionel, or the refined cor- 
 rectness of Henry. Easily exasperated, and as 
 easily soothed, if either wit or kindness were 
 displayed by his adversaries, he was always 
 a prominent feature, whenever a generous pro- 
 tector or an amusing companion was required. 
 
 Adored by the common sailors for his mirth 
 and liberality, caressed from love or fear by his 
 equals, and favoured for his talents by his supe- 
 riors, Frank always contrived to be at the head 
 of every thing, in the secret of every thing, and 
 amongst his companions, invariably the pro- 
 moter of every thing. Even on shore, no one 
 seemed willing to contend with him ; and what 
 Captain Seymour arranged, was like the laws 
 of the Medes and Persians, that none should 
 gainsay. 
 
 In outward appearance he was not less strik- 
 ing than in disposition. In figure he scarcely 
 rose above the common height, but a degree of 
 erectness, rather rare in his profession, added 
 to a certain haughty bearing, impressed the 
 beholder with a conviction of strength and 
 loftiness beyond his actual proportion. His 
 head was small, its peculiar shape partly con- 
 cealed by short thick curls of the darkest hue, 
 which sprung back from an ample forehead, the
 
 D£ LISLE. 105 
 
 fairness of which was a strong contrast to his 
 sunburnt features. Nor were those features less 
 peculiar than his air and carriage. A small eye, 
 sunk beneath a projecting brow, seemed placed 
 there to prove that a blue eye need not be soft : 
 it was open, clear, and restless, like a flickering 
 light flashing across a gloomy cavern. A short, 
 full upper lip, with a chin as short, but slightly 
 projecting, completed the contour of a face, 
 which Hubert thought unique in its kind. 
 
 His manner was not exactly calculated to 
 meet the approbation of his new acquaintance ; 
 it was too impetuous, too dictatorial, for one so 
 jealous of his own freewill. His voice, though 
 sufficiently harmonious not to hurt the ear, was 
 grating to the soul of De Lisle; for its loud 
 tone was too much that of command. 
 
 Lionel saw his friend shrink from his brother 
 with regret, and strove to reconcile him to th^ 
 ruggedness and boisterous style to which he had 
 hitherto been so little accustomed. This was 
 easily done, by recounting some of those traits 
 of heroism and feeling, in which the life of the 
 sailor abounded ; and Hubert readily acknow- 
 ledged, that he might be pardoned for asserting 
 a little too cavalierly the superiority he really 
 possessed. 
 
 F 5
 
 106 DE LISLE. 
 
 Captain Seymourj on his part, was no way 
 disposed to repel a person he admired, and 
 even respected, more than he was wont to respect 
 any one. It was nearly a novelty to him, to 
 meet with either man or woman, over whom his 
 rapid, decisive manner, produced no controul; 
 and though he preferred living with persons more 
 easily governed, he felt an esteem, approaching 
 to deference, for the courteous inflexibility of 
 his former school-fellow. 
 
 While the intimacy of these young men was 
 rapidly approaching the confines of friendship, 
 Hubert learned that Madame de Lausanne was 
 at Vienna, and thither he proposed going, when 
 Captain Seymour's leaA^e of absence should ex- 
 pire. Lionel talked then of moving the invalid, 
 who could now scarce be called one, by slow 
 journies to the South ; and it would be easy for 
 Hubert to overtake them on Spanish ground, 
 where they proposed lingering, in order to visit 
 their sister, who had taken the veil, in a convent 
 not far distant from Salvatiera. 
 
 The person who gave Hubert a clue by which 
 to find Th6rese, was the very youth who had 
 brought her to Paris. Accident threw this Mr. 
 de la Sablonniere in his way, and aware that no
 
 BE LISLE. 107 
 
 motive would be thought by a perfect stranger 
 to lurk beneath his curiosity, he boldly asked his 
 question at once, and was replied to as a matter 
 of mere conversation by the foreigner. 
 
 " Did you know her well ?" carelessly asked 
 the sprig of Diplomacy, taking a pinch of snufF 
 as he spoke, and looking another way, while he 
 continued to balance himself upon one leg, as if 
 rehearsing in his own mind the last new step 
 that had been applauded at the Opera. 
 
 " What a way to mention her in !" thought De 
 Lisle : but far from betraying what he felt, he 
 affected as much indifference, if not as much 
 levity, as the Frenchman, and answered : 
 
 ** Enough at least to admire her talents." 
 
 " Ay, she is clever ! not that she took me in. 
 She has been overrated, rely upon it. Remem- 
 ber what I tell you ; this woman, with her ac- 
 complishments and her fascinations, might act a 
 great part; but she has little views, small objects. 
 A woman of virtue does well not to be am- 
 bitious, but in her class it is dastardly and mean- 
 spirited. She takes as much trouble to govern 
 an individual, as would answer to rule an em- 
 pire ; and what, after all, is one man T' 
 
 " Yet I imagine you were content with her
 
 108 DE LISLE. 
 
 predilection for one man, when you offered to 
 escort her to this country," said Hubert, with a 
 *orced smile. 
 
 ** Pardon me ! there was no predilection in 
 the case. It suited her to travel with me ; she 
 gained expedition and security ; and it suited 
 me to have a person I could speak to, when I 
 was tired of writing and thinking. We were 
 very good friends ; no more." 
 
 " Indeed ! no more ?" 
 
 Mr. de la Sablonniere smiled at the tone 
 of incredulity with which his words were re- 
 echoed, and changing his manner from abstract- 
 ed fatuity to calm seriousness, asked whether 
 Hubert thought it impossible to avoid being 
 in love with Madame de Lausanne ? 
 
 The Englishman coloured, for the question 
 implied that he had betrayed himself. He dis- 
 claimed, of course, the necessity of any super- 
 abundant tenderness, but confessed he admired 
 the self-command of any man, who could travel 
 with Therese, and aspire to nothing beyond the 
 friendliness of a chance acquaintance. 
 
 " Our journey was short," replied the fo- 
 reigner, " and I had much to occupy me. I had 
 no time to make myself pleasing to a woman."
 
 DE LISLE. 109 
 
 '' Yet her conversation must have had charms 
 for you ?" 
 
 " Yes, she was agreeable. I thought so at 
 the moment ; but I repeat, I had other things to 
 think of, that touched me more nearly. Had 
 I been idle and unoccupied, I dare say I should 
 have persuaded myself into an attachment to 
 put away the time; as it was, I did not even 
 get the length of interest, respecting my fair 
 companion. She was too sensible to be helpless 
 and terrified about nothing ; I saw no symptoms 
 of either grief or poverty, which might have 
 excited my sympathy ; and I must confess, 
 though it is not flattering to my self-love, I saw 
 yet fewer of any attachment to myself." 
 
 Hubert breathed more freely, and with a less 
 constrained air rallied him upon the unreason- 
 ableness of expecting a woman to fall in love 
 with him, while receiving so little encourage- 
 ment on his part. The conversation then took 
 another turn, and though the young men met 
 frequently afterwards, the subject was never 
 renewed. 
 
 Hubert continued to linger at Paris till the 
 Seymours had separated and left it, and then 
 more from not quite knowing what to do with
 
 110 DE LISLE. 
 
 himself, than from any remaining desire again 
 to see Madame de Lausanne, proceeded to put 
 his original plan into execution. 
 
 He travelled rapidly to Vienna, and having 
 letters of introduction that threw him into very 
 pleasant society in that town, his wish to trace 
 Therese was suffered to lie dormant for some 
 time. It is possible, that it might have been 
 altogether forgotten, had he not heard a gen- 
 tleman at the Ambassador's table called by a 
 name that made him start. Here, then, was 
 the present protector of Madame De Lausanne, 
 and she was probably not many streets distant 
 from him. 
 
 He wondered at the sudden acceleration of 
 his pulse, for, after all, she had been scarcely 
 remembered ! He asked some questions of his 
 next neighbour, respecting the Baron De Wer- 
 ner, and found he was a younger son, likely to 
 make a figure in diplomacy, but less rich in 
 worldly possessions than in mental store. He was 
 a resident in Vienna, and was then on the point 
 of visiting his elder brother, who, if report could 
 be credited, did not suffer the gloom of his Gothic 
 castle in Stiria to prey upon his spirits. The 
 person who gave this account was an Italian,
 
 DE LISLE. ill 
 
 and sundry smiles and grimaces completed the 
 effect of the innuendo. 
 
 On the following morning Hubert sent to 
 Werner's, to inquire for Madame De Lausanne. 
 She was not there, nor had any woman ever 
 shared the confined lodging of the diploma- 
 tist. With such unsatisfactory intelligence, Mr. 
 De Lisle^s servant did not like to return, and 
 he begged the landlady would inquire of her 
 lodger where she might be found. The answer 
 was, *' Most probably at my brother's ;" and 
 Hubert almost felt relieved that she was not in 
 the same town with him. Should he seek her 
 any farther or not ? He thought not. What 
 right had he to enter the castle of a stranger ? 
 He sighed as he relinquished all idea of seeing 
 her : he should never, then, know the motives 
 of her conduct ; never guess how far she had 
 been sincere in those sentiments which had once 
 given him so much pleasure, and ended in such 
 withering disappointment. 
 
 " Be it so !"" thought he ; " doubtless in the 
 course of my Ufe she will not be the only per- 
 son I shall not understand.*' Although he had 
 remained so long in Vienna, without bestowing 
 much thought on Therese, it seemed to him.
 
 112 DE LISLE. 
 
 now that he was not to see her, as if no motive 
 was left for lingering there. At an assembly 
 where he went in the evening, he inquired what 
 he had omitted seeing in the town, or its envi- 
 rons, for his time was drawing to a close, and 
 he thought of soon joining his friends. 
 
 " You know nothing of Germany," said an 
 old nobleman, to whom he had addressed him- 
 self, " by a visit to its capital. Here you see 
 distinguished characters, courtiers, and foreign- 
 ers, but little of the simplicity and domestic 
 affections that constitute the charm of our 
 country life and the superiority of our manners. 
 I go to-morrow from this dissipated city to the 
 tranquil residence of my ancestors ; come with 
 me, and I will show you a beautiful country, 
 a grateful tenantry, and a happy family." 
 
 There is nothing so touching as the enthu- 
 siasm of age. We feel it must be genuine, to 
 have resisted the numberless attacks made on it 
 by time, calamities, and disappointments. Hu- 
 bert was affected, and pleased : he accepted 
 the offered hospitality, and had no cause to 
 regret it.
 
 DE LISLE. 113 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Age EE ABLE and interesting as De Lisle's 
 visit proved, he was loth to trespass too much 
 on the kindness of persons of whom he knew 
 so little, and fixed accordingly an early day for 
 his departure. The English feeling was but 
 little understood by the family of his host. 
 Their's was not the courtesy that can affect 
 kindness for a few days only, but grows impa- 
 tient and restive, if put to a longer trial. They 
 received the stranger with that attention which 
 proceeds from a heart overflowing with kind- 
 ness ; and in proportion as his manners and sen- 
 timents won their approbation, they ceased to 
 remember the date of their acquaintance. They 
 heard him allude to his departure, therefore, 
 with grief, but the duties of friendship were sa- 
 cred in their eyes, and not a word was said to 
 stagger his resolution.
 
 114 DE LISLE. 
 
 On the last day but one of his remaining with 
 them, he was surprised by the appearance of 
 Werner. This young man was on his way to 
 his brother'^s, and Hubert learned with emotion 
 that he had himself been for the last week with- 
 in a drive of Madame de Lausanne. His irre- 
 solution returned. He was absent, and out of 
 spirits through the evening. Werner readily 
 attributed his silence to regret, at the termina- 
 tion of his visit ; and willing to enliven him, he 
 talked of the beauty of the country through 
 which he had passed. 
 
 " I had the advantage of you," he said, ^* for 
 instead of enjoying the view of the high road 
 from my carriage- window, I came a shorter and 
 more picturesque way, on horseback. Much as 
 I admire what I have hitherto seen, it is not, 
 however, to be compared with my ride to-mor- 
 row. I do not think a more beautiful one 
 can be seen than between this castle and my 
 brother's." 
 
 " Indeed !'* said Hubert, languidly ; " you 
 almost tempt me to try it."' 
 
 " You cannot do better than yield to the 
 temptation," said Werner, gaily ; " it is not 
 much out of your way, and my brother's dwell-
 
 DE LISLE. 115 
 
 ing you will find any thing but the Castle of 
 Gloom." 
 
 With the benevolent wish of cheering the 
 spirits of their guest, the rest of the party ap- 
 plauded the proposal; and the next morning 
 saw De Lisle slowly following his companion 
 along the edge of a dizzy precipice, wondering 
 to find himself really on the way to Therese. 
 They were met on the road by Werner's bro- 
 ther, and a troop of his companions. Hubert 
 was presented to him, and opened the conver- 
 sation by praising the singular beauty of the 
 scenery. 
 
 *^ Yes," said the elder Werner, " it is an ex- 
 cellent sporting country." 
 
 Hubert smiled ; but he, too, was not indiffe- 
 rent to the sports of the field, though it was not 
 the first idea with which such a country in- 
 spired him ; and his remarks, by showing some 
 knowledge of the subject, recommended him not 
 a little to his new acquaintance. After much 
 loitering to point out particular spots where the 
 game was generally found, the party at last 
 reached the Castle. 
 
 It was nearly dark, and Hubert had scarcely 
 time to throw off his riding-dress, when he was
 
 116 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 summoned to dinner. As he went down stairs, 
 he remembered it was at a dinner he had first 
 seen Therese, and felt rather curious to see 
 how she would bear the meeting now, under 
 such different circumstances. The plentiful 
 repast covered the board, the guests were as- 
 sembled, but no female appeared. 
 
 " If she should not be here after all f 
 thought Hubert ; and nothing, indeed, seemed 
 more likely, for why should she conceal herself ? 
 When the repast concluded, the wine continued 
 to circulate freely ; at last the younger Werner 
 arose, and made a sign to the Englishman, who 
 gladly obeyed it. They proceeded in silence 
 to a small, but cheerful apartment, well-lighted, 
 and fitted up with books. 
 
 " This," said Werner, " is my room. I do 
 not condemn you to it, but I thought, like my- 
 self, you might prefer it to the one we quitted." 
 Hubert expressed his acknowledgments, and 
 placing himself at the window, not to disturb 
 whatever employment his considerate companion 
 might engage in, amused himself with watching 
 the effect of a brilliant moon on the projecting 
 battlements of the building, and the waving 
 branches of the tall trees that surrounded it. 
 Suddenly a strong perfume of flowers reached
 
 DE LISLE. 117 
 
 him ; he remarked upon it, and was told it pro- 
 ceeded from a conservatory on a line with the 
 window, but at some distance. 
 
 " If you care for flowers," said Werner, " I 
 believe there are some there worth your notice. 
 They suffocate me, and I seldom go near them ; 
 but if you choose to go along this corridor, 
 through the chapel, in a straight line, you can- 
 not miss it, and will find it open." 
 
 Hubert took up a light, and proceeded as he 
 was directed. No lamp burned in the chapel ; 
 it looked gloomy and desolate ; the rich crim- 
 son hangings had lost their brilliancy, and 
 seemed going fast to decay. Hubert stopped 
 for a moment to look round him; he remem- 
 bered that the residence of Werner was famed 
 for its gaiety. 
 
 *' It is only here then," thought he, " that 
 gloom is allowed to penetrate. The altar of 
 God is alone deserted V* He thought hov/ un. 
 like the friends he had quitted ; and they did 
 not lose in his estimation from the contrast. 
 
 The smell of the flowers was more percepti- 
 ble where he now stood, and he had no difficul- 
 ty, guided by it, in finding the door of the con- 
 servatory. It was a very beautiful one, and 
 filled with some of the most fragrant, as well
 
 118 DE LISLE. 
 
 as the rarest exotics. A large glass-door at the 
 farther end was open, but a curtain of white 
 muslin was drawn into so many folds, that in 
 spite of its clearness, he could discern nothing 
 of the adjoining apartment. He approached it 
 with noiseless step, for the soft matting on 
 which he trod returned no sound. He soon 
 was able to distinguish a small room of singular 
 form, but betraying far more taste and elegance 
 in its arrangement, than any he had hitherto 
 visited. 
 
 The light in the conservatory was so much 
 more brilliant than beyond it, that for a mo- 
 ment Hubert overlooked a female figure. She 
 was seated in the darkest part of the room, with 
 her back towards him ; but the outline of that 
 form was not to be mistaken. It w^as true, that 
 Hubert had expected to meet Therese ; but now 
 tliat she was actually before him, he felt as if 
 an unexpected vision had crossed him, w^hich 
 he had no power to address. She was reading, 
 and as if pleased with the subject, she covered 
 the book with her hand, and repeated aloud 
 some lines of poetry. They were Tasso's, and 
 were descriptive of more than common tender- 
 ness. Her singular voice lent all the force to 
 his poetry the Italian bard could have wished, 
 
 M
 
 DE LISLE. 119 
 
 and Hubert felt that such tones had indeed 
 never fallen on his ear, since they parted. 
 
 She paused ; and De Lisle, yielding to the 
 impulse of the moment, went on with the tw^o 
 lines that concluded the stanza. Madame de 
 Lausanne arose, and seizing the taper that 
 bunied beside her, came forward, saying in 
 German, " Who are you .?" 
 
 " Who think you .^" said De Lisle, calmly 
 raising the light he held to his face. He gazed 
 steadily upon her, but on that marble counte- 
 nance no emotion appeared. Fear she could 
 not feel ; tenderness she perhaps had never felt; 
 but surprise any one might feel. Yet she be- 
 trayed not even that. 
 
 Both y/ere silent for a moment. At last she 
 said " Come in, and tell me what brought you 
 here."" She pointed to a chair at a distance, and 
 resumed her seat in frigid stateliness. Her self- 
 possession awed Hubert. He almost felt she was 
 the person to be offended, and that it would be 
 presumption in him to complain. Madame de 
 Lausanne had a favourite barbette. It was cross 
 and troublesome, like most ladies' pets, and re- 
 senting the intrusion of De Lisle, flew at him 
 in a fury of fear and ferocity. 
 
 '* Even your dog has forgotten me ! " said he,
 
 120 DE LISLE. 
 
 as he gazed at the aRimal he had so often caressed 
 in the arms of its mistress. 
 
 '' What do you expect from such creatures 
 replied Therese, in a tone of sarcasm. "Are they 
 not taken as a plaything* an amusement ? Who 
 expects from them the generous attachment 
 that is not in their class ? " 
 
 " I confess," said Hubert with bitterness, ^' I 
 am very weak to call a thing ungrateful I have 
 caressed and fed, because it returns my kind- 
 ness with injury, or at least the desire to injure. 
 I should have profited more from experience." 
 
 " And yet," said Therese calmly, " of how 
 little use experience has been to you ! Surprised 
 and indignant at what you think treachery, you 
 forget that you exposed yourself to it, by the 
 vanity of believing that for you a miracle had 
 been performed. Recollect from what class you 
 chose a being, on whom to repose in full con- 
 fidence. Your own passions mastered you, and 
 you were willing to expect a virtuous attach- 
 ment from one who had the misfortune to live at 
 variance with the most indispensable of all vir- 
 tuous rules." 
 
 " This from you ! *' cried Hubert, " Oh ! is 
 it you who should reproach me for believing 
 your mind was above your situation, your feel- 
 ings purer than your conduct i "
 
 DE LISLE. 121 
 
 " I do not reproach you with this, for it is the 
 truth. It is your inconsistency I quarrel with, 
 because it has given you pain ; and if you do not 
 rectify your judgment, it will betray you again 
 in some other way, and perhaps more severely. 
 My past life should have made you doubt what 
 my future might be ; but even had a direct in- 
 spiration from Heaven revealed m}^ reformation, 
 could you ever have been happy ? Impossible ! 
 for no one is happy without respectability ; 
 and what so contemptible as the man who 
 every day blushes before his dependents, for 
 his dishonoured partner." 
 
 '* Did you think thus, when you encouraged 
 the idea of becoming my wife ?" 
 
 *' I did ! I never expected much felicity to 
 either of us, but I thought I should improve 
 my own situation ; that I might escape being 
 thoroughly known in a strange land, and there- 
 fore, might possibly draw around me some fe- 
 male society. Besides, you were an only son, 
 and I could not fancy your parents would al- 
 ways be inexorable.*" 
 
 " What made you give up these ideas.'*" 
 
 " A letter from your mother.'' 
 
 Hubert started. " What, doubly deceived !" 
 he exclaimed, and hid his face in his hands. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 DE LISLE. 
 
 Madame de Lausanne arose, and unlocking a 
 small cabinet, she took out Lady de Lisle''s let- 
 ter. " Read it!'' she said, *' but at some other 
 time; and now that I have answered all your 
 questions, answer mine : how came you here ?"" 
 
 ^' I came with young Werner. I happened to 
 be visiting not far from hence, and for the chance 
 of seeing you, I came. I have yet one thing 
 to ask, and then I will harass you no more. Was 
 I deceived from the beginning, or did you ever 
 care for me .?" 
 
 Therese raised her fine eyes, and there was 
 in them the troubled expression he had so often 
 thought inexplicable. He fancied now he saw 
 a tear in them. No, it was impossible ! He ap- 
 proached, and pronounced her name in that 
 accent to which she had so often fondly answered. 
 
 Madame de Lausanne hastily unclosed the 
 casement, and in an altered voice said, " Does 
 not the smell of the flowers overpower you.? 
 They make me sick ;" and she shuddered, but 
 De Lisle saw it was the sickness of the mind. 
 
 " Farewell," said he mildly ; " it is idle to 
 prolong this conversation, which may torment 
 you without doing me any good." He paused, 
 looked at her for a moment, then in a lower
 
 DE LISLE. 123 
 
 tone, added, " Farewell ! Therese, you have 
 given me much pain, but I forgive you !" 
 
 Madame de Lausanne averted her face, but 
 she held out her hand, and faintly pronounced 
 **" Adieu !" He looked at that beautiful hand 
 he had so fondly admired — he had delighted to 
 ornament. It was as beautiful as when they 
 parted, and covered with as many sparkling 
 gems, but they were the gift of another ! He 
 could not touch it, and bowing profoundly, he 
 passed on. All Madame de Lausanne*s self- 
 controul gave way at once ; she burst into tears, 
 and threw herself on her couch to conceal her 
 face. When she looked up, De Lisle was still 
 there. 
 
 '' Let me detain you no longer,'' said she 
 haughtily, arising. " I will owe nothing to 
 your compassion, I should gain nothing from 
 your justice, nor have I any claim on a love 
 that cannot now exist — yet, in the name of 
 those illusions we have indulged together, let us 
 part friends."" 
 
 " Therese !" said Hubert solemnly, " I have 
 loved you too well, and too lately, to extend to 
 you the simple hand of friendship ; but trust 
 me, who never deceived you, I cannot be unin- 
 
 G 2
 
 124 DE LISLE. 
 
 terested in your welfare, and should you ever 
 stand in need of my assistance, you will find I 
 do not forget those who have once been dear to 
 me. And now, adieu ! I leave this to-morrow." 
 Madame de Lausanne bowed in silence, and 
 slowly Hubert retraced his way to the chamber 
 of Werner, and from thence shortly after to 
 his own. 
 
 As De liisle was stepping into his travelling 
 carriage early the following morning, he heard 
 his name pronounced by a youthful female 
 voice. He looked round, and beheld a fair girl, 
 whose dress was scarcely superior to the peasant 
 garb of the country, but whose look and man- 
 ner had nothing rustic in them. She ap- 
 proached, and giving him a small parcel, said it 
 was from her mistress, and was to be delivered 
 only into his hands. She curtsied rather grace- 
 fully as she delivered her message, but before 
 he could thank her she was gone. 
 
 As the carriage wound round the castle, Hu- 
 bert lifted his eyes mechanically to the window 
 beyond the conservatory. It was open, and 
 by the uncertain light he fancied he could dis- 
 cern a female fisiure. He thought it was too 
 early for Madame de Lausanne to be there, and 
 yet the retreating shadow was taller and more
 
 DE HSLE. 125 
 
 commanding than the sylph-like figure of the 
 fair-haired girl he had seen at the castle-gate. 
 '' It matters not," thought he, as an angle of 
 the building concealed the window ; and yet his 
 self-love was unconsciously flattered, as the 
 fancy flitted across him that Th^rese was not 
 quite indifi*erent to him. 
 
 He had read, the night before, Lady De 
 Lisle''s letter. It was longer, perhaps, than was 
 necessary ; for one argument, however convinc- 
 ing^ — one reason, however powerful — is never 
 enough for a woman. What she has much at 
 heart, she never trusts to one only stroke, how- 
 ever bold and judicious. Life is, indeed, so 
 made up of small matters, and various fluctuat- 
 ing sentiments, that such a method, perhaps, ' 
 is less unwise than many may think. While 
 one thing has been omitted, however trifling it 
 may seem, the mass of evidence may be incom- 
 plete ; and how often the very argument that 
 seems the most feeble to the person urging it, 
 has been found to have had most weight with 
 the listener. 
 
 Lady De Lisle, who had heard the report 
 of her son's intended marriage to Madame de 
 Lausanne, had carefully laboured to find out 
 the sort of person she might be. It was easy
 
 1^6 DE LISLE. 
 
 for her to comprehend, that an artful woman in 
 her situation would desire above all things to be 
 received by her lover"'s family ; and might flatter 
 herself, that even could she not win over his 
 parents, some remote branch might be found t« 
 give her a degree of sanction. Lady De Lisle, 
 therefore, laboured to prove the futility of these 
 hopes. She first insinuated, in every possible 
 way, that it would not be her interest to offend 
 Mr. De Lisle's family by such a measure ; and 
 then, in case she might be generous and attach- 
 ed to Hubert, she drew a forcible picture of his 
 misery and degradation, in consequence of such 
 a union. She even offered her money, if she 
 would immediately break off the connexion ; 
 and though this was done with sufficient address 
 and ingenuity, it was perfectly explicit. 
 
 De Lisle did not think it possible she could 
 have accepted the offer, though she owned to 
 having quitted him in consequence of his 
 mother's letter ; and yet was not the revolting 
 egotism she had displayed in their conversa- 
 tion quite as unlike the disposition he had sup- 
 posed hers, as the being paid for leaving him 
 could be ? 
 
 When he opened the parcel, he found ano- 
 ther envelope, and the following note : —
 
 DE LISLE. 127 
 
 <c 
 
 You may deceive yourself, but you cannot 
 deceive me : you are leaving me in anger — that 
 is nothing, for it will die a natural death in a 
 breast where no vindictive feeling lives : but you 
 are also leaving me in sorrow. I would fain di- 
 minish that; for though I cannot be said to feel 
 compassion for one whose very regrets I envy, 
 for they are softer and purer than my best 
 feelings, yet is your grief a weight on my con- 
 science. You have deserved to suffer, but not 
 through me ; and I would willingly, therefore, 
 not be the instrument of your punishment. 
 You asked me, had I ever cared for you ? and 
 though you pitied the pain the question gave, 
 too much to press it, I think I owe you an 
 explicit answer. 
 
 " If you believed that I won your affections 
 by a system of fraud, it might make you 
 gloomy and mistrustful towards others. If 
 your fancy painted to you an erring woman, 
 still suffering in consequence of an heroic sa- 
 crifice of the object of her unconquered love, 
 your compassion would be more painful than I 
 wish it to be, and your opinion of those in my 
 situation false. Had my education and my ex- 
 perience been different, it is very possible I 
 might have felt for you all the romance of pas-
 
 128 DE LISLE. 
 
 sion ; but, alas ! I 7iever loved ! I have wan- 
 dered on this troubled globe six-and-thirty 
 years, and no single being, of any age or sex, 
 is hallowed in my memory ! 
 
 '^ Do you not feel for me ? If oceans of tears 
 could animate this withered heart, it would 
 have escaped the frightful solitude to which it 
 is condemned. 'Tis vain and weak to struggle 
 with our destiny ! Mine did not always appear 
 to me what it now does, for in early youth 
 there are illusions for the most unfortunate. 
 Do not mistake me — I am chilled, not dead. 
 There is a touch of human feeling in me still ! 
 I am interested for many shadows that have 
 flitted past me in my dream of life ; and there 
 are some I dwell on with anxiety, who would 
 think it a degradation to waste one thought 
 on me ! 
 
 " I have sat up through the night, to finish the 
 manuscript I send you. You will find now the 
 clue to my feelings and my conduct, and seeing 
 what the former must 6e, in consequence of the 
 latter, you will not again expect the blighted 
 ear of corn to yield you a bounteous harvest, 
 The breaking of day warns me to conclude; my 
 eyes are heavy with watching and tears, while 
 yours are refreshed by quiet and repose, and
 
 DE LISLE. 129 
 
 yet the object of commiseration with you, is 
 yourself^ and not Therese /" 
 
 Hubert de Lisle was not a person to read 
 unmoved such a picture of hopeless wretched- 
 ness, proceeding even from a stranger; but 
 written by one he had once dearly loved, and 
 so lately parted from with emotion, it affected 
 him almost to tears. He had often felt much 
 curiosity about Madame de Lausanne ; but cu- 
 riosity is a cold and narrow sentiment, which 
 is forgotten where the heart is truly touched. 
 He felt that he could not just then read the 
 manuscript, and it was actually some days after- 
 wards tliat he ventured to begin the narrative 
 detailed in the following chapter. 
 
 g5
 
 130 DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 *' My father was a peasant in Swabia : he 
 died in consequence of an accident, while hewing 
 wood in the forest. He left a large family to 
 struggle with poverty — I had almost said with 
 famine. I have a confused notion of my fa- 
 ther's death and my mother's tears, but it is 
 scarcely a recollection. Time passed on, and 
 we contrived to exist. A man of some property, 
 for his situation, said he would marry my mo- 
 ther if her family were not so large. This 
 increased her grief at our number, which was 
 assuredly our misfortune, rather than our fault. 
 "It was at this period that the Prince of 
 Z , travelling with his only son for the reco- 
 very of his health, passed through our hamlet. 
 An equipage of that sort was so rare, that it at- 
 tracted the attention of every one. Taken up
 
 DE LISLE. 131 
 
 with gazing at it, I forgot to get out of the way ; 
 and one of the horses, alarmed at my vicinity, 
 plunged and kicked me. I uttered a cry which 
 induced the travellers to look out. They even 
 stopped, which is more than I have seen some 
 travellers do on similar occasions, and a servant 
 raised me from the ground, and reported that 
 my arm and head were bleeding, but that he 
 dared say I should soon be cured. 
 
 " The young prince was not so easily satisfied ; 
 he examined the cuts himself with g-reat kind- 
 ness ; and soothed by a softness so unusual, I 
 embraced him, and told him if he would stay 
 with me I would not cry any more. I was then 
 about eight years old, and though I never grew 
 into a really handsome woman, I was a pretty 
 child, with curling hair and a brilliant skin. 
 Had I been sallow, like my sisters, I make no 
 doubt I should never have excited the benevo- 
 lence of the great. 
 
 " As it was, I pleased their highnesses ; and 
 the young one asked me playfully, if I would 
 go with him, since he could not stay with me. 
 I joyfully acceded, but said I must bid my 
 mother adieu. It struck the elder gentleman as 
 singular that I should so willingly leave her,
 
 132 DE LISLE. 
 
 and yet not forget to take leave of her ; and 
 getting out of their carriage, they followed me 
 to my humble dwelHng. 
 
 "When the plan was proposed to my poor 
 mother, she burst into tears and looked irresolute. 
 Things not easily attained are doubly precious 
 to the slave of luxury, because they afford the 
 stimulus he is ever in want of. They urged 
 their wish with greater vehemence, offering 
 money, which was indeed a cogent argument. 
 My mother looked at the remaining children, 
 and asked for more. The prince told her she 
 was unjust and sordid ; but as the money was to 
 him a far less object than gratifying the whim 
 of the moment, he threw it on the table, and 
 his son taking me in his arms, we retraced our 
 way to the carriage. 
 
 " For a little while, I was a great plaything 
 and favourite : it was such an amusement to 
 dress me in the most fanciful attire, to hear 
 my storif^^. of my family, to teach me to sing 
 songs — i'l they discovered I had a musical ear. 
 In short I beguiled the journey home, but 
 the novel y was then over; I was consigned 
 to the ca e of the housekeeper, and speedily 
 forgotten. 
 
 " The . *rince had purchased me as he would
 
 DE LISLE. 133 
 
 have purchased a mongrel puppy, had it struck 
 the fancy of his sick boy ; and I might have 
 been drowned, or shot, after I had outlived my 
 favour, for any thing he would have cared. 
 
 " The wayward child had, however, a fresh 
 access of fondness for me a few months after. 
 He had been given a tutor, who, without being 
 very strict, tried to give him some of the infor- 
 mation thought indispensable at twelve years 
 old. This was a great restraint, and he thought 
 he would lighten it, by making me share the 
 burden. All young despots love to teach, and 
 Frederick thought it was very amusing to 
 punish me, whenever he was himself punished. 
 Luckily for me, uneasiness for his health made 
 those punishments very slight. 
 
 " He never forgot to tyrannise over me, but 
 he very soon forgot to instruct me. However, 
 the habit of iivino; in the tutor"*s room was not 
 lost. I was a merry, obliging child, who would 
 run of all his errands, and often flatter him, by 
 remembering the lessons he had given to his 
 less attentive pupil. He rewarded me by 
 glimpses of knowledge, which increased my de- 
 sire to know more. 
 
 '* I do not think Nature has given me positive 
 genius, but she has been bountiful in quickness,
 
 1S4 DE LISLE. 
 
 memory, and the power of application. My 
 studies were heterogeneous, and rarely feminine, 
 but they were pursued with avidity, and some 
 success. 
 
 " Five years after 1 had been the bond-maid 
 
 of the Z family, (for I was in truth nothing 
 
 better,) the tutor was dismissed for very dis- 
 honourable conduct. I had not loved him, for 
 his heartless selfishness chilled me, and I well 
 knew I had derived no benefit from him, that 
 I had not dearly purchased by my devotion to 
 his caprices, and my attention to his comfort, 
 when the frequent fits of the gout, to which he 
 was subject, made him dependent on every one. 
 
 '* Still he was a great loss to me. I had no 
 longer any room but my little dark garret ; for 
 the housekeeper hated me for being, as she said, 
 so much more learned than was good, and I 
 could only get books, or pen and ink occasion- 
 ally, when Frederick's memory served him in 
 my behalf. 
 
 *' But he was soon taken to Court, and I be- 
 gan to despair. I even formed a plan of going 
 home to my mother, and working for my bread, 
 little as I knew of any thing that could be 
 useful in my line. The old Prince returned be- 
 fore my floating ideas had resolved themselves
 
 DE LISLE. 135 
 
 into a plan. He left his son behind him, bat 
 he brought for his companion an opera-singer. 
 
 *' She was rather handsome, and sang di- 
 vinely. She almost immediately took a fancy 
 to me, and had me instructed in music. It is 
 not an art to be acquired in a few months, and 
 though my progress was not discouraging, it 
 did not keep pace with the impatience of my 
 new protectress. I was so much tormented on 
 the subject, that even my old enemy, the house* 
 keeper, took compassion on me, and procured 
 me some relief. 
 
 " I pleased my haughty mistress better in 
 singing, and received some applause from the 
 Prince; but as this excited much jealousy, it 
 procured for me more pain than pleasure. On 
 the following year the lady left us, for Frede- 
 rick was expected home, and the Prince had no 
 desire to offer so bad an example as her pre- 
 sence would have been to a youth of nineteen. 
 
 "As he had seen a great deal more of me 
 while she was his inmate, he naturally thought 
 Q^ me more, and even in several instances pro- 
 vided for my comfort. My heart overflowed 
 with gratitude and delight, and I did my best 
 to love my benefactor. How little did he de- 
 serve such feelings ! yet I think of that period
 
 136 DE LISLE. 
 
 with pleasure, for their existence was a blessing 
 to myself. 
 
 " The heir returned — but what a return ! 
 His feeble health had sunk beneath the dissipa- 
 tion in which so many sought to plunge him, 
 and he came home but to die. His illness, 
 however, was lingering, and I found I must 
 still be his slave. He delighted in my singing, 
 refused to be nursed by any one but me ; and 
 had he been less a prey to the peevishness and 
 selfishness of disease, I might have been really 
 gratified by such evident partiality. 
 
 " He died at last, and for some time after, 
 nothing could be more gloomy than the Castle 
 
 o£ Z . The old Prince was truly wretched. 
 
 All the affection of which he had been capable 
 had centred in his only son ; and all his pride 
 in his heir. Bereaved and aghast, he knew not 
 where to fly for comfort. He turned to the 
 priests, who had attended the last moments of 
 Frederick, and, for a time, seemed the prey of 
 bigotry as well as grief. 
 
 " As the season advanced, he quitted the 
 dark purlieus of his own apartment to breathe 
 the air, at the instigation of his steward, or in- 
 tendant, as he was called with us ; and in one of
 
 DE LISLE. 137 
 
 these short and cheerless rambles, he met with 
 me. He was at first much affected by the sight 
 of an object so forcibly associated with his son; 
 but he intreated me, nevertheless, to remain 
 with him ; spent the evening in the saloon, and 
 even asked me to sing. 
 
 " I was careful not to choose any of those 
 songs I had so often repeated to Frederick, 
 and the Prince seemed almost restored to his 
 former self. From that day, the religious per- 
 sons who had flocked round him were more 
 coldly received, and soon after entirely dis- 
 missed. 
 
 " My own situation had undergone great 
 changes. As nothing was right in the sick- 
 room but what I did, the servants had acquired 
 a habit of submission to my orders in that de- 
 partment, that was felt, though in a less degree, 
 all over the house. 
 
 " The old housekeeper too had died ; and 
 foreseeing the influence I was likely to attain, 
 solicited from me the favour of placing a fa- 
 vourite niece in her situation. The intendant 
 would not hear of it, because of the girl's youth, 
 and he was no doubt judicious in his objection ; 
 but she cajoled and flattered me, so I. of course,
 
 138 DE LISLE. 
 
 supported her. The Prince said there could 
 be no harm in trying her; and thus I became, in 
 fact, the mistress of the estabhshment. 
 
 ^* This was a bold and sudden step to power, 
 but it harassed, more than it elated me ; for it 
 was far from being complete, and I sought not 
 to disguise from myself that it was most inse- 
 cure. Many gross abuses were practised under 
 my eye, that I must pretend not to see ; many 
 covert impertinences were offered to myself, that 
 I must not dare to resent ; for in the struggle, 
 the chance of overcoming was as likely to fall 
 to my competitor as to myself, — indeed, more so. 
 
 " Even the creature I had raised showed a 
 disposition to turn against me, as soon as she 
 thought she could preserve her place without 
 my interest. All these things led to painful 
 and deep reflections on the utter worthlessness 
 of human nature. I was not ill-natured or 
 overbearing, and I could not understand having 
 to live in perpetual watchfulness of injury. 
 
 "I believe I was unjust, for I have since 
 thought the envy I excited was scarcely to be 
 wondered at. I owed my elevation to no merit 
 of my own, but solely to the caprice of my su- 
 periors ; and, in fact, in hating and thwarting 
 me, they did but express their impatience
 
 DE LISLE. 139 
 
 against that caprice, in the only way in their 
 power. 
 
 " They saw the bright side of my situation. 
 I did not work ; I was scarcely controlled ; I was 
 handsomely dressed. They could not guess how 
 much happier they were, than, in my insecure 
 and isolated state, I could ever be ; for, not 
 having tried my situation, they knew nothing 
 of my feelings. I had not high spirits indeed, 
 but that they thought was only pride. I had 
 good health, and if any chance thing ailed me, 
 none knew it, for to whom should I have com- 
 plained. 
 
 " The allowances I can make now, I could 
 not make then. The old Prince seemed to me 
 the only being not disposed to injure me; and 
 in his society alone I felt unrestrained and 
 cheerful. I often thought of petitioning him 
 for a small sum of money, with which to return 
 to my mother. Without some pecuniary as- 
 sistance, I felt I should only be a burden to 
 her ; and I knew that what she would think a 
 fortune would be nothing to him. 
 
 *'I was checked by the thought, that it 
 would be ungrateful to leave him again to soli- 
 tude and gloom ; but I hesitated not to propose 
 his quitting the Castle for a time."
 
 140 DE LISLE. 
 
 " He was not a sensible person, but he was 
 rather well-informed, and piqued himself on 
 his literary taste. I represented to him that in 
 tJie capital, or even in some large provincial 
 town, he might form a pleasant society, of 
 which he would be the head and leader, as 
 I had read of in many memoirs of the day. 
 ' And are you impatient to see a town, 
 Therese ?' asked the Prince, with a smile. 
 I explained my plan for myself, but he 
 would not hear of it. If I returned to the 
 mother who had sold me, I should not only 
 be shocked at a style of living and manners 
 tx) which I had been so unaccustomed, but 
 could not even rely on their kindness, since it 
 would take long training to make me in the 
 least useful to them. In short, he represented 
 all I should suffer so strongly, that I reluctant- 
 ly gave up the idea ; for I could not flatter my- 
 self, indeed, that any of those persons would 
 see me return with pleasure, who had never 
 once exerted themselves to inquire after me 
 since I had left them. 
 
 " 'No, Therese,' said the Prince, in conclu- 
 sion, 'you are my property, and mine only. 
 Surely you will take care of me in my old age, 
 who took care of you in your youth.'
 
 DE LISLE. 141 
 
 " I did not just then remember the sort of 
 care that had been bestowed upon me, but, 
 touched by his manner, I wept and embraced 
 him. His agitation was so uncommon, that I 
 was shocked to have produced it, and wondered 
 much that my caresses had so little the effect 
 of subduing it. 
 
 *' Some time after, he summoned me to his 
 morning room, in which I never sat. The in- 
 tendant was there : I thought he turned on me 
 a look of compassion ; but as he had opposed 
 me about the housekeeper, and I had succeeded 
 in the contest, I concluded he could not be 
 friendly to me. I therefore supposed his sad- 
 ness arose from some other cause, unconnected 
 with me. 
 
 " ' I have been taking measures,' said the 
 
 Prince, as I entered, ' for our removal out of the 
 
 country ; I am growing too old to live without 
 
 society, and for you it will have all the pleasure 
 
 of novelty."* 
 
 " I was indeed enchanted, and expressed my 
 pleasure warmly. The Prince was amused with 
 my raptures : he kissed me, and desired me to 
 take the intendant into the other room, as he had 
 something to say to me, that he hoped would not 
 check my animation.
 
 142 DE LISLE. 
 
 (( 
 
 I obeyed in silence, and having seated myself, 
 wondered that my companion was so long in ma- 
 king his communication. At last he said : " It 
 is the wish of my master, that I should show you 
 these papers, and explain to you, that they entitle 
 you to a yearly sum, to be spent by you on your- 
 self solely ; also, that he will not limit your 
 expenses in housekeeping, or your controul over 
 his family, so long as you are content to fill the 
 station of Madame N/ The intendant stopped : 
 and I gazed on his embarrassed and downcast 
 looks, without knowing what to make of his 
 words or i^anner. — ' Surely,' I said, ' you are 
 bewildered ! — I have hitherto been occasionally 
 the companion of my benefactor, but Madame 
 N. was his mistress.' — ' You have hitherto been 
 a child ; but now, though only fifteen, your 
 height and finished form may well class you 
 with woman.' — ' But all women are not like 
 Madame N.' — *You can hardly expect the 
 Prince to marry you; and if he did, a left 
 handed marriage would involve you in squab- 
 bles with his relations, without doing you much 
 good. ' — ' But if I don't want to marry him.'' If 
 I would rather not be his mistress ?"* I asked 
 impatiently. — ' Then I have no authority to 
 give you these papers.' 
 
 " A cold shuddering came over me. I felt
 
 DE LISLE. 14j3 
 
 that the prince had not gone so far to retreat; 
 that at his age, particularly, he could never 
 pardon a refusal of such a nature. Thus I must 
 decide at once not merely to lose a friend, but 
 
 t 
 
 to convert him into an enemy ; or else I must, 
 according to my usual practice, purchase all 
 my comforts by perpetual sacrifices. Hitherto, 
 though they had often been irksome, they were 
 neither as constant nor as revolting to my feel- 
 ings, as those now meditated. 
 
 " The disgrace touched me but httle — I felt not 
 its extent — I saw not its consequences. I had 
 a confused notion, it is true, that such conduct 
 would not entitle me to countenance and support 
 from quiet matrons : but we cannot be said to 
 lose what we never possessed. It was no such 
 reflection that caused the deadly sickness under 
 which I sank. 
 
 " When my faintness subsided, I found my- 
 self on the sofa, with the intendant still before 
 me. He had not only not called the Prince, 
 but seemed to have taken no means of recover- 
 ing me, beyond opening the window. Soothed 
 by his look of unfeigned commiseration, I asked 
 him what I should do. — ' Excuse me,' said the 
 old man hastily, ' I do not wish to speak against 
 my master's wishes, and I cannot speak for them.' 
 — ' Does he know,"* I said, ' how warm an advo.
 
 144 DE LISLE. 
 
 cate he lias found in you T — ' Assuredly ! why 
 should 1 deceive any one? He could not expect 
 me to recommend what I could not approve. 
 In this case you, however, are the sole judge; 
 you belong, in fact, to no one but the Prince, 
 except in as far as every one belongs to himself. 
 You are at liberty to comply with his wish, or 
 to decline it.' — ' And what shall I do, should he 
 resent my refusal ?"*■ — ' You best know how far 
 you can earn a subsistence : I have neither mo- 
 ney nor home to offer you, nor could I procure 
 for you any employment above that of a servant. 
 What place could you fill ?"* — None,' I replied 
 gloomily; ' I am utterly useless and destitute !' — 
 * Your education has been much vaunted^ — 
 what could you teach ?"* — ' I fear nothing ! I 
 have made some progress in languages, but 
 Latin alone do I really know ; my knowledge 
 of music is trilling, nor should I know how 
 to convey it to another. I used to be fond of 
 geometry, but I have neglected it of late to 
 scribble poetry, in which my success is insig- 
 nificant, and I am ignorant of its rules.' — 
 ' Poor child 1' said the intendant, ' a little 
 pain work and a little religion would have 
 availed you better ; but you are, I presume, 
 deficient in both.'
 
 DE LISLE. 145 
 
 " I confessed it, and then remained silent and 
 oppressed. He advised my asking for a little 
 time for consideration; and, glad of a reprieve, I 
 begged him to make the request for me. He 
 did so, and I retired to my own room, sick at 
 heart, and unable to think of any thing, for I 
 saw no way out of my present difficulties. I 
 threw myself on my bed; and had I known how 
 to pray, it would have been for death. 
 
 " But death was far from me ; and I awoke the 
 following day, with no other complaint than 
 an aching head and a bewildered mind. The 
 Prince sent to me to drive out with him, and I 
 went, for I dared not refuse. He was very kind 
 to me, and did not allude to my conversation with 
 the intendant. I breathed again, and almost 
 hoped he had changed his mind. 
 
 " We left Castle Z , and on our road the 
 
 Prince told me he had made all due allowances 
 for my childishness ; but that now he expected I 
 would discard my scruples, and prepare to take 
 possession of the hotel he had purchased in Vi- 
 enna, as the friend and mistress of its owner. . 
 
 '' I did not faint this time, and I even had 
 sufficient self-controul to conceal my tears. If 
 the Prince could but have ouessed how much 
 
 o 
 
 he lost in my heart and my estimation by such 
 
 VOL. 1. H
 
 146 DE LISLE. 
 
 conduct, it might perhaps have checked his 
 fancy — for it was not a passion he felt for me. 
 
 " I had hitherto wished to be with him ; de- 
 lighted in seeing him pleased, and refused to 
 nbtice his weaknesses. Now I recoiled from 
 him, cared not how he felt, detected all his 
 follies with a malignant eye, and despised 
 his fondness. In my protector the approaches 
 of age were venerable, and marked with 
 respectful regret ; but a superannuated lover 
 is of all objects the most disgustingly ab- 
 surd. 
 
 " In short, I lost every sort of amicable 
 feeling as connected with him, and did nothing 
 but with a view to my own interest. I had 
 within my power many means of gratification. 
 I studied indefatigably with masters of various 
 sorts. I had music always in my house, be- 
 sides attending every public concert. I built 
 a conservatory at an immense expense, and 
 would never be without the rarest plants, in 
 season or out of season. I covered myself with 
 the most splendid jewels, and took as much 
 care to ornament my person and deck out my 
 apartments, as to cultivate my mind. 
 
 " The infatuation of the Prince increased 
 hourly. While I had been simple, unobtru-
 
 at LISLE. 147 
 
 sive, and sincere, he had liked me only be- 
 cause there was no one else to like, because I 
 was young, and sang to his taste ; but, now 
 that I was magnificent, imperious, and false, 
 he thought me the most superior and fasci- 
 nating of women. 
 
 " At first, the society he assembled at his 
 house was of a very venerable date, but by de- 
 grees younger persons gained admittance. He 
 viewed them askance at first, but was soon re- 
 conciled by my coldness to all those who might 
 have had a chance of pleasing me. 
 
 "It is false that we naturally sin against 
 principle whenever we are off our guard. I, 
 who had been given no principle, yet made 
 some of my own : I did not love the Prince ; 
 I did not esteem him ; and yet, anxious as it 
 were to hallow our connexion in my own eyes, 
 I determined never to be induced to leave him. 
 I was equally restrained by instinct from form- 
 ing transient attachments; and, being by na- 
 ture a passionless person, it was no effort. All 
 my energy was turned towards study, and all 
 my ambition was to be treated by my guests as 
 if they remembered my talents and acquire* 
 ments, and forgot my situation. 
 
 " I soon found that having lost one species 
 
 H 2
 
 14S DE LISLE. 
 
 of character, I must now be content with a lite- 
 rary one, which was at least better than none 
 at all. The Prince's assemblies soon became 
 famous: foreigners were eager to gain admit- 
 tance. We had some women, but they were 
 not very young, and mostly such as were barely 
 received elsewhere. 
 
 " Some made their pursuit of science the 
 excuse for visiting at a house where all the 
 first in the class of wit or literature were to be 
 found. Some only came once, when it was un- 
 derstood that I should act. Not that I ever 
 performed plays, but I sometimes declaimed 
 particular pieces, sometimes sang whole stories, 
 and oftener repeated poetry on the spur of the 
 moment, in a manner similar to that of the im- 
 provisatore of the Italians. 
 
 ' , *' This sort of life lasted some years : we 
 occasionally visited Z — — castle in the summer, 
 and occasionally travelled for our amusement 
 during that season. I was now and then really 
 amused ; and by dint of indefatigable employ- 
 ment I drowned all unpleasant recollections as 
 they arose. I remembered my early poverty, 
 and was not slow in relieving the wants of 
 others ; but I did it carelessly, and, I make no 
 doubt, often injudiciously. 
 
 " The first use I made of my independent
 
 DE LISLE. 149 
 
 purse was to send some money to my mother, 
 and inquire into the situation of my family. 
 Some of my brothers and sisters had died, some 
 had contrived to push their own way, and my 
 mother had married the very person who had 
 lamented the number of her children. 
 
 " I endeavoured to be useful to them, but 
 with little success : some grew idle in the hope 
 of remittances ; some embarked in speculations, 
 in which they fancied I could help them ; some 
 committed the grossest injustice, and trusted to 
 the powerful protection of the Prince for escap- 
 ing punishment. They had all forgotten me ; 
 and my recollection of them produced the sur- 
 prise that one might feel in discovering a jar of 
 coins, for nothing could be so far removed from 
 tenderness or gratitude. 
 
 " My poor mother once got the parish clerk 
 to write me a long letter, hoping that I was pro- 
 perly grateful to Heaven for raising me up such 
 a protector as the noble Prince, and earnestly 
 conjuring me to make myself worthy of his pa- 
 ternal regard by a gentle temper and virtuous 
 conduct ! She proceeded to say, that she had 
 but one child by her second husband, a little 
 girl as handsome as I was when taken from 
 her, and for whom she bespoke my kindness. 
 
 " Thus did even my mother flatter me ; as if
 
 150 DE LISLE. 
 
 conscious that I had been raised too much above 
 her to address me in any other way. Still there 
 was some affection in her letter, and I cherished 
 the hope of one day seeing the only being in 
 whose regard I felt any confidence. I did see 
 her, but, alas ! it was to overwhelm her with 
 grief. 
 
 '' My half-sister was infinitely handsomer 
 than I, and was courted by all the gay rustics 
 in the neighbourhood. Possibly she may have 
 given herself airs of finery which disgusted her 
 female companions. At any rate, they envied 
 her not only her beauty and her lovers, but the 
 smart dresses I had so foolishly sent her. 
 
 " Malice does not stop at trouble : they 
 found out how little cause my family had to 
 be Droud of me ; and though there was feeling 
 enough among them to agree to spare a mother, 
 they determined to mortify the beauty by this 
 pleasing intelligence. At first, she would not 
 believe them ; but when they left her no pre- 
 tence for incredulity, she returned home in 
 despair. She would not speak to my mother, 
 but sent me a message to implore me to come 
 and speak to her. 
 
 ''Z Castle was a long day's journey 
 
 across the country from my native place. It 
 was some time before I received my sister's
 
 DE LISLE. 151 
 
 message ; and as I could not leave the Prince, 
 who was confined to his room from indisposi- 
 tion, I could only send a carriage and at- 
 tendants for my sister, who came to me accord- 
 ingly. I was shocked and mortified at her 
 grief; and, willing to justify myself, I pleaded 
 the bondage into which I had been sold, 
 and how entirely my education had unfitted 
 me for returning home, even could I have 
 been received. My mother would have grieved 
 at my coming back ; and my stepfather, find- 
 ing me useless, would no doubt have turned 
 me out of the house. 
 
 " I then told her I felt accountable to no one 
 for my actions ; that I had sought to benefit a 
 family that never had benefitted me ; that many 
 things in my situation were abundantly painful; 
 but as they felt not the pain, and might profit 
 by the advantage, I thought they had little to 
 complain of. 
 
 *' My sister sighed, and was silent. I saw 
 that I bewildered her understanding, without 
 silencing her regrets. As soon as the Prince 
 could quit his room, she asked to leave me : I 
 consented readily ; for I feared her honest aver- 
 sion to him might break forth, and give offence. 
 
 " She shed tears at parting, and requested 
 me to visit my mother no more. She thought
 
 152 DE LISLE. 
 
 the oftener I came, the greater chance there 
 would be of her making the discovery of my 
 situation at Z Castle, and this, she assur- 
 ed me, she would never recover. I promised, 
 though reluctantly ; for I did not like to pain my 
 mother by the appearance of neglect. I much 
 fear, the time my sister spent with me did her 
 no good. The distance between her own station 
 and mine was so enormous, that she could not 
 but sigh at returning to a laborious existence. 
 She hoped to marry above her rank, and this 
 idea was her ruin. 
 
 " She had an admirer among the farmers 
 who had always been discouraged by her pa- 
 rents, from the idea that he might turn her 
 head, but would never marry her. She thought 
 otherwise ; and did not therefore comply with 
 their wishes so far as to avoid him. This 
 rustic lover had many advantages above her 
 others, for he had been the playmate of Count 
 D ~'s children, and grew up under the pa- 
 tronage of that noble family. 
 
 " He was as ambitious in his way as my 
 sister in hcr's, and had no idea of blighting his 
 fair prospects by an imprudent marriage; still 
 he could not give up so lovely a creature ; who 
 seemed not wholly indifferent to him. The
 
 DE LISLE. 153 
 
 lovers met, and confided their passion to the 
 woods and streams. 
 
 " My credulous sister, satisfied with the spe- 
 cious reasons assigned for delaying their mar- 
 riage, would not see that mystery is always 
 wrong ; and indulged, no doubt, in many 
 dreams of future comfort and distinction. She 
 certainly suffered her predilection for her un- 
 worthy lover to engross her so entirely, that 
 she paid with her life the forfeit of her impru- 
 dence. Whether she destroyed herself, or irri- 
 tated her companion, by the bitterness of her 
 reproaches, so as to induce him to commit the 
 desperate act, could never be discovered. 
 
 " She was seen on the banks of the river, 
 in his company ; he was soon afterwards met 
 alone, pale and haggard. The wildness of his 
 manner, and his instantly leaving the country, 
 was strong evidence against him ; nevertheless, 
 she might have cast herself in, and he might 
 only have been guilty of not seeking assistance 
 to serve her, which, after all, from the situa- 
 tion of the place, would have been ineffectual. 
 
 " Some fishermen found the body, but not 
 till the following day, when, of course, no 
 chance remained of restoring her. The news 
 of this dreadful death overcame ray poor mo- 
 
 H 5
 
 154! DE LISLE. 
 
 ther ; and, at that very moment, some unguard- 
 ed speeches from the assembled neighbours 
 revealed to her the situation of her fortunate 
 daughter, as she was wont to term me. 
 
 " In some minds, grief softens asperity ; in 
 others, it creates it. In the bitterest manner 
 my mother cursed me as the disgrace of her 
 old age, and the destroyer of my young sister. 
 She forgot that she had betrayed me to shame 
 and sorrow, by casting me among strangers, 
 and selling her right over me. 
 
 '' She persisted in believing that every one 
 must feel like her, however different their edu- 
 cation and situation might be; and she sent 
 my eldest brother to pour out on my devoted 
 head the full tide of her wrath, her misery, 
 and her malediction. He brought back, too, 
 all the money that I had given, and which had 
 not been spent ; and, casting it at my feet, told 
 me it bore a curse with it, and blasted the in- 
 dustry of an honest man. 
 
 " I listened to the language of virtuous in- 
 dignation with surprise and emotion unmixed 
 with anger. I pardoned the violence, gross- 
 ness, and unreasonableness of all my brother 
 said in favour of its pure and upright mo- 
 tive ; but I could not love the being who over- 
 whelmed me with the torrent of his displeasure,
 
 DE LISLE. 155 
 
 because I had not been taught to think as 
 he did. I saw him depart, after having vainly 
 sought to mollify him, without any wish to 
 receive another such fraternal lecture. 
 
 " My life continued the same till the death 
 of the Prince. While he lived, no bounds had 
 been set to my extravagance : he was gone, and 
 I remained nearly penniless. 
 
 " This, then, was his passionate love ! I 
 might starve when he could no longer remain 
 near me ! There was something in this utter 
 heartlessness that appalled as well as chilled 
 me. I shed no tears, I uttered no exclama- 
 tions ; but I felt palsied, mortified, and asto- 
 nished. Every kindly feeling withered within 
 me, and I became selfish and cold, wondering 
 at the smallest courtesy from my fellow-creatures, 
 when no motive of interest was apparent. 
 
 " The heirs of the Prince of Z permit- 
 ted me to claim whatever articles of furniture 
 had been appropriated to my use. They even 
 purchased my jewels themselves, and presented 
 me also with the money arising from the sale 
 of my flowers and rare exotics. I thought all 
 this very handsome ; but I afterwards found I 
 had given away the jewels, of the value of which 
 I was not aware. 
 
 I lived for some time, quietly and alone, 
 
 6i
 
 156 DE LISLE. 
 
 upon the small means that were now mine ; but 
 as, in order to increase them, I had sold my 
 books and musical instruments, I found time 
 hung heavily on my hands. I gladly, therefore, 
 agreed to the proposal of a young widow, who 
 was among my few visitors, to come and reside 
 with her, ' As our joint purses,' she said, ' would 
 add to our mutual comfort."' I was very ready 
 to beUeve her, knowing that my notions of eco- 
 nomy were confused and indefinite. 
 
 " I was comfortable for a short time with my 
 new friend, who was agreeable and kind to me. 
 I missed her one day — she had departed ; and 
 my writing-desk, which contained all my riches, 
 was the companion of her journey ! I had liked 
 her, and was more unhappy at her conduct than 
 alarmed at its results. A fit of illness, tedious 
 and enfeebling, though not very severe, soon ex- 
 hausted my credit ; money I had none ; my 
 clothes I sold by degrees, and my chance of 
 starving seemed not far remote, when I was 
 sought out by a person who had been intimate 
 
 with the Prince of Z . 
 
 " He was a foreigner, and when I first knew 
 him had been only travelling for his amusement. 
 He was now from home, in a public capacity, 
 and, remembering my knowledge of languages, 
 thought I might prove an acquisition in the
 
 DE LISLE. 157 
 
 Northern Court, to which he was somewhat re- 
 luctantly about to repair. 
 
 *' Just after I had agreed to accompany his 
 Excellency, I received a letter from the in- 
 
 tendant of the late Prince of Z . He told 
 
 me, that having often received from me money 
 to distribute as he might think right, he had 
 taken the liberty of detaining a part ; as he fore- 
 saw the possibility of my being one day in 
 greater want of it than any of the persons I 
 sought to assist. 
 
 " He sent me with this letter a pretty con- 
 siderable sum ; and also told me he had, in 
 setting his seal to the effects of his late master, 
 removed to his own house all the books in which 
 my name had been written, and some of the 
 china that ornamented my dressing-room. He 
 looked upon these things as my property, and 
 awaited my orders as to their disposal. 
 
 " This letter arrived in time to reconcile me 
 in some measure to human nature. My fellow- 
 creatures were not then all unfeeling or per- 
 fidious; and my spirits rose at the thought that 
 I might yet meet some one sufficiently noble 
 to excite my torpid feelings, and sufficiently 
 generous to make the allowance which I thought 
 my due. I forgot that such persons were as 
 unlikely to come in my way as genii or fairies ;
 
 158 DE LISLE. 
 
 but I was still very young, and may be par- 
 doned the illusion. 
 
 " I moved now in quite another sphere; but 
 as I still continued to play a prominent part, 
 and was much courted and complimented, I 
 found my situation far from disagreeable. Some 
 time or other, perhaps, I may write political 
 memoirs, and describe the cabals in which I was 
 engaged, the secrets I discovered, and the suc- 
 cessful ingenuity with which I puzzled my 
 adversaries, and had the pleasure of rendering 
 all their measures abortive. 
 
 '' Not that I cared for my own .party, or felt 
 any malevolence towards the opposite one. I 
 was only glad to be useful to my protector, 
 who was considerate enough about me ; and 
 was also not sorry to have an occupation that 
 suited my ambitious temper and increased my 
 own consequence. 
 
 " It was nothing to me that the world re- 
 mained in ignorance of my projects, or even of 
 my existence. I had the pleasure of moving, 
 as behind a curtain, the springs that made all 
 these great men enact their parts : sometimes, 
 if my own people offended me, I had no ob- 
 jection to hamper them ; and thoroughly en- 
 joyed the humble face with which they would
 
 DE LISLE. 159 
 
 sue for my assistance to make smooth the web 
 I had myself entangled. 
 
 " I was not by nature malicious, but at the 
 bottom of my heart lay a secret, but not a 
 slender hoard of resentment, against the whole 
 human race. Time might have shed oblivion 
 over it ; the society of benevolent creatures might 
 have checked its bitterness ; but the deep sense 
 of injury could not die, when fresh injuries 
 and fresh insults were accumulated upon me. 
 I was spiteful only because I was not trusted ; 
 I was imperious because I was not respected ; 
 I knew so exactly how much I was wanted, by 
 the degree of flattery poured upon me. For 
 such attention I could not be grateful ; I only 
 enjoyed the bitterness of my contempt for the 
 very people who thought themselves justified 
 in despising me. 
 
 "A prince in the opposite faction saw me at 
 the theatre, and admired me. When it was 
 known that I sometimes saw his Highness, and 
 suspected that I had received diamonds from him, 
 consternation seized on the Ambassador and his 
 set. I kept them all in suspense to enjoy their 
 fright. Some of his Excellency's friends, who had 
 treated me with peculiar insolence, and given 
 themselves airs of virtue, truly laughable from
 
 160 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 them, were now ready to lick the dust under 
 my feet. 
 
 '' I had a malignant gratification in telling 
 them how estimable I thought their proceedings ; 
 and assured them at last, that if I had not the 
 honour of a woman, I had that of a man, and 
 should scorn to betray the cause in which cir- 
 cumstances had embarked me. I made myself 
 many enemies by this conciliating frankness; 
 but what cared I ? Were they not all my ene- 
 mies ? At any rate, one of them, more vindic- 
 tive than the rest, had credit enough to have 
 me confined ; and the Ambassador, fearing to 
 be implicated in the groundless, but somewhat 
 alarming charges brought against me, disclaim- 
 ed all knowledge of my conduct, and short- 
 ly after being recalled, left the country without 
 seeing me. 
 
 " I quite understood his conduct, though I did 
 not think it incumbent on me to admire it ; and 
 indeed felt, I believe, less indignation than many 
 strangers who beheld the transaction. I was 
 liberated by the Prince, and remained in that 
 court no longer than to do a piece of service to 
 my enemy. It was from no good motive. I knew 
 he was a proud man, who hated to be obliged 
 to any one. I not only conferred the favour on 
 him, but took care that every one should know
 
 DE LISLE. 161 
 
 to whom he owed it. I could not have been 
 more completely revenged, had I put him on the 
 rack. I parted good friends with his Highness. 
 his transient liking had vanished, and I easily 
 reconciled him to my departure. I could not 
 support the ennui and fatigue of courtly eti- 
 quette, without any of the advantages of le- 
 gitimate royalty. His wife could not have 
 been more surrounded by ceremony and re~ 
 straint; and she would at least have had a 
 family and a public representation to occupy 
 her tirae. I, on the contrary, had nothing to 
 do but to sit surrounded by formal attendants, 
 awaiting the honour of a visit from the most 
 unentertaining of princes. 
 
 " This was worse than the prison from which 
 he had freed me, and my patience gave way at 
 last. I had taken a great fancy to travel. I 
 went through Switzerland and Italy with an 
 Englishman. He was young, cheerful, and not 
 very sensible ; but as he had a good memory, 
 and talked fluently, if not well, he was rather 
 thought a prodigy at home, and seemed to share 
 the mistake in the pleasantest manner possible. 
 
 " He fancied he had a talent for describing 
 scenery, and it is certain he often made applica- 
 ble quotations. He told me it would be ex- 
 pected by his friends, that he should write a
 
 162 DE LISLE. 
 
 tour; lamented his inability to sit still long 
 enough either to pen or to dictate a journal, and 
 the task devolved upon me. 
 
 " I executed it to his satisfaction, and liad 
 the amusement of seeing him perfectly convinced 
 that he had remembered, seen, and felt all I de- 
 scribed ! He was quite reconciled to publishing 
 this under his own name, for he had crammed it 
 with quotations, made many alterations where I 
 had fallen too much into the German idiom, and 
 had transcribed the whole in a fair hand. After 
 this, it would have been hard, indeed, to have 
 denied him an author's merit ! 
 
 " I continued to lead a desultory life, but I 
 was not now so careless about money as I had 
 'been. I have since, indeed, been sometimes 
 robbed or cheated, but I have never been in 
 absolute want. Had I alone been concerned, 
 my thoughtlessness might again have plunged 
 me into the lowest state of poverty ; but I had 
 another to think for, and to save, if possible, 
 from the degradation that had overtaken me. 
 
 " In driving through a village in Franconia, 
 
 some years after the death of the Prince Z , 
 
 my carriage broke. While it was repairing, I 
 Avished to enter the first cabin, but was pre- 
 vented by its owner, who assured me it was not
 
 DE LISLE. 163 
 
 fit for so fine a lady to sit down in ; but that if I 
 would accompany him a few yards off, to the 
 house of the charitable widow, I should be bet- 
 ter accommodated. I acquiesced in his plan ; 
 and as we went thither, inquired what had 
 given rise to the honourable appellation he had 
 given to the person I was going to. 
 
 " ' Not any one thing in particular, lady,' 
 replied the countryman ; ' when I was a lad, I 
 knew the good dame by no other name, and 
 well she has deserved it. She was once a greater 
 person — she never could be a better. There is 
 her house.' 
 
 " I looked up and saw a cottage, scarcely 
 larger than its neighbours, but looking cleaner, 
 and presenting at that moment a most smiling 
 aspect, the garden before it being crammed with 
 gay flowers. A pretty little fair girl was work- 
 ing earnestly in this small patch, and at the 
 door sat spinning an aged woman. I asked if 
 the child were her grandaughter. 
 
 " ' She is no kin to her,' said my companion, 
 ' but it is all one.' 
 
 " I did not quite understand this, and asked 
 if she were paid for taking care of her. The 
 tustic had placed his hand on the little wicket- 
 gate to open it for me ; but at my question he
 
 164 DE LISLE. 
 
 let it go, and, turning round, eyed me for a mo- 
 ment with an expression of surprise and distrust, 
 then with visible coldness answered : 
 
 " ' That she is paid, lady, I presume not to 
 doubt — but it is not in earthly coin.' 
 
 ** With nearly one stride he crossed their 
 garden, and announced me to the venerable 
 matron as one craving her hospitality for some 
 hours, in consequence of the accident I had met 
 with. The dame listened to this account in 
 silence ; then, rising from her chair, made me a 
 solemn curtsey, and offering me, in few words, 
 the choice of her neat parlour to sit in, or a 
 chair in the garden, seemed not to think it 
 incumbent upon her to do the honours any 
 farther. 
 
 *' The child, however, had disappeared, and 
 soon returned with a basket of common fruit, 
 some cream, and coarse bread. I tried to at- 
 tract the attention of my fairy attendant ; but 
 she was shy, and eager to return to her flowers. 
 I would have made the old woman speak, had 
 not that from the beginning seemed next to 
 impossible. 
 
 " There was some knitting lying in a basket 
 by the door. Hopeless of conversation, I took 
 it up, and plied my needles with a degree of 
 perseverance that seemed to surprise my taciturn
 
 DE LISLE. 165 
 
 companion. She did not, however, make any 
 remark ; but at this moment a young man 
 passing her gate, she arose with alacrity to meet 
 him, addressing him in a way that showed me 
 he was the rector of the parish, 
 
 " A more prepossessing countenance I had 
 seldom seen ; and his manner, mild, simple, and 
 benevolent, accorded with it most perfectly. 
 He had heard of the accident to m}'^ carriage, 
 and, in case it could not be finished mending by 
 evening, advised my sleeping at his house, in 
 preference to putting my present hostess to any 
 trouble, which in her limited family would be 
 more felt than in his. 
 
 '* I was much disposed to comply ; but, un- 
 willing to trespass on such incautious kindness, 
 I asked if he lived alone, or had any females in 
 the parsonage. The young man smiled, as if 
 he thought my question had been dictated by 
 prudery ; and replied, that though his wife and 
 sister were both, unfortunately, absent, he hoped 
 I should consider his children as protection 
 enough . 
 
 " I told him, that if he was not more afraid 
 of me than I felt disposed to be of him, we 
 should do very well; but that I should certainly 
 not have forced myself on the acquaintance of 
 persons, whose purity should not be suspected.
 
 166 DE LISLE. 
 
 I added, 'As it is, I am not under the necessity 
 of announcing myself ; and therefore, if you 
 please, will preserve an incognita so favourable 
 to me.' 
 
 " The young man bowed with a disturbed 
 air. I turned from him, and met the eye of 
 the widow fixed upon me with an expression of 
 increased kindness which surprised me. 
 
 '' ' Sit down, my dear child,' said she ; M 
 knew Therese had an honest heart. Alas ! that 
 you who scorn to impose on others, should yet 
 continue so to impose on yourself.' 
 
 '' ' Should you not rather say, good mother,' 
 I replied — ' is it not hard that others should 
 impose upon her ?' 
 
 " ' Not so,' said the widow mildly ; ' your un>. 
 derstanding is not feeble ; you have not been 
 deceived, though you may have been punished 
 beyond your fault. But I pretend not to teach 
 you ; only in this, take my advice, remain with 
 me. The parsonage is more commodious, I 
 confess ; but you would not like to reward our 
 excellent pastor's hospitality, by exciting pos- 
 sibly some prejudice against him in the minds 
 of his parishioners, and, it may be, some jea- 
 lousy in the mind of his wife.' 
 
 " ' She is not so unreasonable !' said the young 
 man with warmth.
 
 DE LISLE. 167 
 
 « 
 
 ' She is a very good lady,' said the widow, 
 with a smile ; ' but why put her to a needless 
 trial ?' 
 
 " The rector, to change the subject, called to 
 the child. The name startled me, — it was that 
 of my father. 
 
 " In answer to my exclamation, the widow 
 told me that Agnes was the only child of my 
 brother. She was an orphan, and had no one 
 to look after her. I now first heard of the' 
 death of my mother, and farther disastrous par- 
 ticulars of the rest of my family. The father 
 of Agnes had entered into some trade in the 
 neighbourhood of the widow, but it failed ; and 
 the disappointment preyed on his spirits, and 
 hastened his end. 
 
 " The simplicity with which the adoption 
 of Agnes was mentioned by one who had to 
 labour for her support, struck me very forcibly. 
 I felt almost ashamed of asking to remunerate 
 this unostentatious being ; and yet, as Agnes was 
 my niece, I had certainly a right to do some- 
 thing for her. 
 
 " The widow thanked me for my offers of 
 service, and confessed that it often weighed upon 
 her mind the thought of what might become 
 of the child when she was dead ; while she 
 lived, it was all well ; and the more frugal and
 
 168 DK LISLE. 
 
 f 
 
 industrious habits were impressed upon her, the 
 better she would be prepared to struggle with 
 a hard destiny. 
 
 *' I admired the ease with which she thus 
 oyerlooked herself, and the comforts and repose 
 that her advanced age required, to think only 
 of a little creature who was nothing to her, and 
 had no claim even on her charity. 
 
 " But it was in vain to urge selfish reasons 
 to one unaccustomed to attend to them. She 
 would accept nothing, and only intreated that 
 I would never dispose of my niece after her 
 death but according to the advice of the rec- 
 tor ; and urged the advantage of keeping her 
 in her father's line of life, as affording fewer 
 temptations to error. 
 
 " I went directly from the house of the cha- 
 ritable widow to that of the intendant of the 
 
 Z family, and placing in his hands a large 
 
 sum of money, begged him to sink it in an an- 
 nuity on the child for her life. I also sent him, 
 whenever I could, money to place out in some 
 way for my benefit, by which precaution I 
 have escaped being reduced as low as I was after 
 the death of his master. But, after all, economy 
 and order are not consistent with our pursuits. 
 I often spent more in a day than I had been 
 able to save for years.
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 169 
 
 6( 
 
 At one time, having suddenly abandoned 
 the house of a young man, who in a fit of 
 drunkenness had struck me, the idea of inde- 
 pendence through my musical talents occurred 
 to me, and I gave concerts in Vienna. They 
 were well filled at first ; but I belonged to no 
 party ; I adopted no fashionable style, for I did 
 not even honour the reigning fashion ; I had 
 neglected to win over any great connoisseurs ; 
 in short, I knew not the trick of my profession ; 
 and not being personally respected, I was pro- 
 tected by no one, and soon found my debts 
 exceed my profits. 
 
 " I opened a painting academy. For a time, 
 curiosity brought people to me ; as that attrac- 
 tion ceased, I offered to take portraits. So 
 many artists had possession of the field before 
 me, that I gained nothing by this plan either. 
 
 " Having nothing else to attempt, I returned 
 to my old line with increased disgust and ir- 
 ritation. I do not suppose that I can always 
 have met with the most worthless beings, but 
 it is certain I have always seen the worst part 
 of every character. The men with whom I as- 
 sociated, not respecting me, thought it often 
 unnecessary to respect themselves. Like school- 
 boys who have been galled by restraint, they 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 DE LISLE. 
 
 seemed charmed to be at their ease. They 
 might amuse themselves before me by uttering 
 the most worthless sentiments, boasting of the 
 vilest transactions, which good taste and good 
 manners would have thrown a veil over in bet- 
 ter company. The good opinion of their ser- 
 vants was of more importance in their eyes than 
 mine, and very naturally — that / should pre- 
 sume to despise any conduct but my own, was 
 an impertinence of which they did not suspect 
 me. 
 
 " About this time the worthy Rector of the 
 little village in Franconia, announced to me the 
 death of the exemplary person who had taken 
 charge of my niece. Agnes was awaiting at 
 his house my decision respecting her future 
 home. 
 
 " I was much puzzled ; I could not have 
 the child with me, for such a school was not 
 favourable to youth. I asked if he thought I 
 could board her in some respectable family, 
 half hoping that he would offer to take her 
 himself. This, however, he did not do ; and I 
 resolved on conveying her to the Intendant, who 
 had already so often befriended me, and beg 
 of him to place her somewhere in his neigh-
 
 DE LISLE. 171 
 
 bourhood, where she would be kindly used, and 
 not be put on too high a footing ; for the rea- 
 soning of her former protectress had convinced 
 me that I should not make her happy by an 
 undue elevation. 
 
 *' When I arrived at the village, only the Rec- 
 tor and Agnes made their appearance ; but many 
 heads were popped up and down at each window, 
 to catch a glimpse of the lady that was not to 
 be spoken to ; and a certain whispering on the 
 stairs convinced me the servants shared in the 
 curiosity of their superiors. I mentioned my 
 plan for Agnes to the Rector, who warmly ap- 
 proved of it, and gave me much good advice re- 
 specting her. 
 
 " Three days afterwards I arrived at the door 
 of the Intendant. I sent in my name, and was 
 not kept many minutes. Agnes and I were ush- 
 ered into the room he used to sit in, but he was 
 no longer there. A young man and woman were 
 seated by the fire in deep mourning. I guessed 
 that I came too late, and offering a hasty apology, 
 I would have left the room. 
 
 " ' Pray do not go so soon,' said the young 
 w^oman, ' but tell us first in what we can serve 
 you. Had my good father-in-law been spared 
 
 I 2
 
 17^ DE LISLE. 
 
 to US, he would have denied you nothing. It 
 will be a pleasure to us to do what, had he lived, 
 he would himself have done. ' 
 
 " I have seen queens and princesses smile, and 
 bow, and look gracious in public ; I have seen 
 the most celebrated actresses in every country 
 represent pure and dignified characters ; I have 
 never seen any thing that touched me so deeply 
 as did the wife of the young Intendant (for he 
 had succeeded to his father"'s situation.) It was 
 not her beauty, though that was of the most in- 
 teresting sort; nor her mourning robe, though 
 nothing could accord so well with the style of her 
 figure. It was a sort of manner I had never 
 seen before or since ; a tone of voice that went 
 to the heart ; a look so pure, so dignified, so 
 serene and sad, that I felt ashamed of standing 
 in the presence of such a woman. 
 
 '^ Tears came to relieve the confusion and novel- 
 ty of my feelings. The young man, who had turn- 
 ed to the window, now came up to me, and tak- 
 ing my hand, led me to a seat. He looked as if 
 he thanked me for my tears, which he concluded 
 were for his father ; and his own cheek, indeed, 
 bore evident traces of many having fallen to the 
 same cause. 
 
 " * Charles,' said the young woman, looking
 
 DE LISLE. 173 
 
 anxiously at her husband, ' do not agitate our 
 guest by this renewal of sorrow. It would be 
 better to know at once in what we can assist 
 a person for whom our father felt so much 
 interest.' 
 
 " I saw that she wished to keep off any de- 
 tails of the old man's death that might quite 
 unnerve her husband ; and I hastened, after a 
 few words of regret at my unseasonable intru- 
 sion, to announce its purport. 
 
 " ' Agnes, then, is not your child ?' abruptly 
 asked the Intendant, while his wife coloured, 
 and an expression next to displeasure passed 
 across her open face. 
 
 " I replied, that I had no children, and was 
 very anxious to keep Agnes far from the uncer- 
 tain homes that I might possess. 
 
 " ' Do you propose,' asked Charles's wife, 
 ' always keeping her at a distance — never visit- 
 ii^g her?' 
 
 " ' It is my intention to see her no more, if 
 possible, since I could only do her mischief.' 
 
 " ' In that case — ' the young woman stopped, 
 looked at her husband, who smilingly replied, 
 ' Certainly, my dear, there can be nothing to 
 prevent our taking the child, and educating it 
 for any station her aunt may think fit, — no
 
 174 DE LISLE. 
 
 thanks, lady,' he cried, impatiently interrupt- 
 ing me. ' She is no beggar, I see by my father's 
 papers ; so we are not burthening ourselves with 
 a portionless child that must be turned adrift 
 when she grows up ; and she will soon be old 
 enough to be of use to my wife.' 
 
 " There was some difficulty in settling the 
 yearly allowance, as Charles thought me too 
 liberal, and his wife would rather have had 
 nothing. But I reminded them that my own 
 means were so precarious, that they had better 
 accept what I could give them then, as they 
 would run the risk of not getting it some years 
 at all. 
 
 "No farther opposition was made, and, re- 
 fusing to sleep at their house, I went imme- 
 diately after to the next village. The gentle 
 Leontine, however, had urged me to breakfast 
 with them the following morning ; and believ- 
 ing that in all probability I should see her no 
 more, I could not deny myself the satisfaction 
 of seeing my little niece in possession of the 
 situation allotted her. 
 
 " I was received by the young couple with 
 a quiet attention and respectful kindness, to 
 which I had been but little accustomed ; and 
 by the broader light of morning was struck
 
 DE LISLE. 175 
 
 afresh with the delicate loveliness of Leontine, 
 and the singular grace of her deportment. 
 
 " She had at the breakfast-table two little 
 girls of her own, and a baby on her knee. I 
 do not care for children, but these little crea- 
 tures were interesting from the animation of 
 their countenances, and their docility, not to 
 their mother's orders merely, but to her eye. 
 Even the infant, when refused more fruit, only 
 made a lip, but spared me the expected bawl. 
 
 " The influence of Leontine was every where 
 apparent to soothe or to regulate ; and yet, 
 with all this self-possession, her manner to her 
 iiusband was the most beautiful compound of 
 modesty, tenderness, and respect. There was , 
 somethino; in the air of deference with which 
 she addressed him so unlike any thing I had 
 ever seen, that I wondered it did not make 
 him unreasonable and exacting. It did not, 
 however, seem to produce that effect ; and I 
 could have gazed for ever on this tranquil scene 
 of home enjoyment, if time would have stood 
 still for my gratification. 
 
 " Leontine took me over her house, showed 
 the little room in which Agnes had spent the 
 night, which henceforth was to be her's; and 
 entered into details respecting what she thought
 
 176 BE LISLE. 
 
 should be taught her, which from any one else 
 I could have spared. But proud to be thought 
 capable of sympathizing in any feeling with so 
 gentle and virtuous a person, I listened with 
 attention, and approved with earnestness. 
 
 " Leontine now led me into the garden, and 
 orchard beyond it. There was a rustic seat 
 at the end, on which I was glad to repose : 
 my companion, however, continued to stand, 
 with a look of uneasy meditation, from which 
 I wished to arouse her. 
 
 " Without noticing what I said, she began 
 abruptly, ' Will you think me unreasonable, 
 if I ask yet another question ? In what faith 
 has Agnes hitherto been reared .-^ and is it your 
 wish that she should continue to receive instruc- 
 tion in the same ?' 
 
 " ' Teach her to be like you, beautiful Leon- 
 tine,' I replied, ' and I shall not fear for her, 
 let her creed be what it may.' 
 
 " The wife of the Intendant looked by no 
 means propitiated by this [speech ; and, after 
 a grave silence of a moment, replied, ' I am a 
 Protestant, but we have Catholic neighbours 
 and priests, if you have any choice on the sub- 
 ject.' 
 
 " ' How,' I said, * should I have any choice
 
 DE LISLE. 177 
 
 about what I so little understand? The fa- 
 mily of Z , as you well know, is Cathohc ; 
 
 mine was Protestant ; and therefore it was never 
 judged necessary to give me any instruction 
 merely religious ; and I confess, that the few de- 
 vout persons I have chanced to see or hear of, 
 inspire me with no great respect for any sect.' 
 
 " ' If the ignorant or the mischievous call 
 bigotry devotion, we can hardly make religion 
 bear the penalty with any justice,' coldly re- 
 marked Leontine. 
 
 " ' Neither do I attack religion. To despise 
 what you do not understand, is a weakness 
 which a rational being ought surely not to in- 
 dulge. Make Agnes gentle, useful, and con- 
 tented, and let her call herself what she likes.' 
 
 " ' Then,' said Leontine, with a smile, * I will 
 make her, if possible, religious.' 
 
 " Thus ended our discourse ; and I confess 
 it was with a sentiment of wonder that I found 
 myself treated with so much consideration by 
 a person of so serious a turn. I had met with 
 so much illiberality from those of her class of 
 sentiment, that I marvelled to see native equity 
 and sensibility get the better, as it were, of her 
 strict and exclusive tenets. 
 
 '' Charles accompanied me to my carriage, 
 
 i5
 
 178 DE LISLE. 
 
 which could not drive to his house, and I made 
 an observation of mingled inquiry and eulo- 
 gium on the piety of his wife. 
 
 "'Yes,' said he with enthusiasm, 'had re- 
 ligion been swept from the earth, a soul like 
 Leontine's would have guessed it.' 
 
 "' But what I admire in her,' I replied, Ms, 
 that she looks the convert of reason, not the 
 victim of imagination.' 
 
 '^ He smiled : ' It would take more time than 
 we have just now, to discuss what reason and 
 imagination really are, since we are all apt to 
 fancy our peculiar prejudices are reasonable, 
 and to ascribe to the wanderings of imagina- 
 tion those impressions and feelings which are 
 not ours. You, lady, have been brought up 
 in luxury and learning; how many pleasures 
 both give you, which they could never give 
 my simple Leon tine !' 
 
 " ' And do you think,' I cried, interrupting 
 him, ' that my pleasures exceed hers ? — oh ! be 
 undeceived. — I was never happy.' 
 
 " The young Intendant, much affected, pressed 
 my hand in silence ; — he continued, ' It is just ; 
 because what at a distance seems desirable, and 
 when we approach it is found to be hollow and 
 unsatisfactory, that so few of us can say we are
 
 DE LISLE. 379 
 
 happy. Sorrow is our portion, but we volun- 
 tarily seek much that we might avoid ; and of 
 that which must be borne, how is the burden 
 increased by our own wayward and rebellious 
 spirit !' 
 
 " ' You should have been put into the 
 ehurch,"" said I, much amused at his having 
 thus cast himself headlong into so serious a 
 subject. 
 
 " ' I think not, if you judge of my fitness 
 by the success of my present preaching, or by 
 the striking proof I have given you of my judg- 
 ment, in speaking to a lady well-informed upon 
 so many subjects, about the only one of which 
 she knows nothing.' 
 
 " ' I confess my ignorance — but be equitable, 
 and do you confess that I have but little en- 
 couragement to study, what, if believed, would 
 but make me more wretched. I dare not ex- 
 pect any good angel, touched with my conver- 
 sion, would provide for me the means of sub- 
 sistence.' 
 
 " ' There are many good angels that touch 
 the hearts of our fellow-creatures in our behalf, 
 which comes to the same thing, since we are 
 but instruments in one hand.' 
 
 My experience has given me but little 
 
 (( (
 
 180 DE LISLE. 
 
 faith in the spontaneous benevolence of man, 
 and this begging plan would be as useless as it 
 is painful. How would you yourself like to 
 undergo such humiliation ?' 
 
 " ' Humiliation !' repeated the Intendant, in 
 a tone of voice that made me colour, for I felt 
 that in his estimation I had fallen as low as I 
 could go. I was at the carriage-door, and we 
 parted, as I thought, to meet no more. Some 
 years after, we did meet ; but, in the interim, 
 many were the events that happened to both. 
 
 " I remained stationary at Dresden a consider- 
 able time. The place pleased me ; and I col- 
 lected around me a society, less brilliant than 
 the first in which I had appeared, less interest- 
 ing and exciting than that in which I bore so 
 conspicuous a part while in Sweden, but, upon 
 the whole, pleasant, as being neither too dull 
 nor too riotous. I might have stayed there till 
 now, had not a lady taken advantage of rather 
 a large sum of money being lost at my house, 
 to procure an order from the court for my 
 immediate departure. 
 
 " I might have pleaded with truth, that in every 
 third house higher play went on than I suffered 
 in mine; but who would have listened to me? 
 Besides, some other pretext would have been
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 181 
 
 speedily found by my unknown foe, for I had 
 injured her as seriously as it was unintentionally, 
 
 " She was a person of note, but her genealogy 
 being longer than her purse, she had affianced 
 her only daughter, with great exultation, to a 
 young man of equal birth, and much more 
 splendid fortune. This young man, whose name 
 was Lesson, was in the constant habit of supping 
 at my house. His paternal mansion was uncom- 
 monly dull, and the mixed society that he met 
 with me, as well as its general tone of pleasantry 
 and ease, amused him. He played no more than 
 what he thought might be expected of him ; the 
 attention he paid me was exactly upon the same 
 plan ; and I make no doubt, that, after his mar- 
 riage, he would have made his own house plea- 
 sant, and I should have seen him no more. 
 
 " It is difficult to make persons of a certain 
 cast of character comprehend that every thing 
 is not passion or principle. Idleness and habit 
 appear not to tliem motives strong enough for our 
 actions. When the future mother-in-law of my 
 young friend discovered how he disposed of his 
 evenings, she remonstrated very warmly, and the 
 young lady implored him with tears to give me 
 up. Certainly it would have been no sacrifice on 
 his part ; but, hurt at the cavalier manner of the
 
 182 DE LISLE. 
 
 mother, and indignant at failing to convince the 
 daughter that he cared not in the least for me, 
 he refused to be dictated to, instead of being 
 trusted, %nd they parted at variance. 
 
 '' He affected to come much oftener to me, 
 to follow me in public, (which he had never done 
 before,) to make me expensive presents, and to 
 boast of his liberty. Poor soul ! he was writh- 
 ing in misery the whole time, and deceived no 
 one but her he loved ! ^ * 
 
 *' In the meanwhile she was acting quite as 
 rational a part. Fearful of being suspected of 
 continuing her regard for one she thought so 
 unworthy, she determined to prove her indiffer- 
 ence by marrying another. It was kept secret 
 till the day before the ceremony was to have taken 
 place, when it was announced at my table in 
 the hearing of the former lover. The unfortu- 
 nate Lesson started up in a state of distraction 
 and rushed out of the house ; he challenged the 
 expected bridegroom, wounded him, as he ima- 
 gined fatally, and instantly left the country. 
 
 *' Although these hot-headed people had carved 
 out all this mischief for themselves, it seemed 
 as difficult to set to rights as if it had not 
 been their own work. In time the second lover 
 recovered, and, willing to find out more of his
 
 DE LISLE. 183 
 
 adversary's motives than their hasty interview 
 had enabled him to do, called upon me. I told 
 him all I knew, which determined him not to 
 marry a person who was evidently taldng him 
 out of pique. 
 
 " The mother, furious at failing twice to esta- 
 blish her daughter handsomely, and looking 
 upon me as the culprit, vowed vengeance, and 
 succeeded in getting me banished. Exile, indeed, 
 was not much to me, who had no tie to any land 
 or any being that I might not break at will. 
 
 " On the very day that I received the order 
 to leave Dresden, as I was listening to the la- 
 mentations of several persons, who were in the 
 habit of lounging in my room, and were natu- 
 rally in dismay at not just then knowing on 
 whom in future they should bestow their tedi- 
 ousness, young Gustavus Briihl was announced, 
 or rather, as usual, preceding his name, dashed 
 into the room, and affecting to rend his hair, 
 while he made use of every tragic grimace and 
 action he could think of, cast himself at my feet, 
 and implored instant death at my hands. 
 
 *' It was his aunt who had fallen on so effec- 
 tual a way of removing me ; but dearly as Briihl 
 loved mischief, no one ever suspected him of a 
 cold, sober plan to injure another ; so that this
 
 184 DE LISLE. 
 
 scene was played off solely to amuse himself and 
 us, and not from any fear of my resentment or 
 reproaches. 
 
 " He was commonly called the little Chevalier, 
 not that he was particularly diminutive in per, 
 son, but he was extremely young and playful, 
 affecting at times not mere levity but positive 
 childishness. ' What a pity Brlihl can be stea- 
 dy to nothing !' was constantly said of him, when 
 the company had been particularly struck by 
 some gleam of wit or feeling mixed up with his 
 voluble nonsense. A more uncontrolled, undis- 
 ciplined boy I never saw; and his manner and 
 conversation excited temporary indignation in 
 many: but he begged pardon so prettily, laughed 
 at himself in so easy and frolicksorae a way, that 
 every one ended by wondering that they could 
 have been angry with the little chevalier. 
 
 " I loved him as one does a spoiled monkey. 
 I knew he would scratch or bite whenever the 
 fancy seized him ; but he amused me so much, 
 that there was no one I so much regretted 
 leaving behind ; besides, though he was any 
 thing but respectful, I could not resent it, be- 
 cause it did not seem to be in him to respect 
 any thing, and he treated me better, at least, 
 than he did any one else.
 
 DE LISLE. 185 
 
 " I had also a secret presentiment that he 
 would one day check his exuberant spirits, 
 and shake off the follies that were wrapped 
 around him, indeed, but that yet I sometimes 
 thought hung loosely, and were worn from 
 convenience rather than necessity. 
 
 " This opinion I mentioned to no one, for I 
 knew it would gain no credit, but it did not 
 escape the lynx eye of Brlihl himself; and, as if 
 he gloried in puzzling me, he redoubled his 
 extravagant ways, — and when he had made a 
 speech so long, so animated, and so confused, 
 that no guess of its meaning could be attempted, 
 he would cast at me a look of sly triumph, and 
 seem in a delirium of joy, while watching the 
 smile that ran round the room, and the super- 
 cilious look by which every one seemed dispo- 
 sed to say, ' The existence of such folly is 
 marvellous — only think of giving it utterance !" 
 Always in motion, glancing athwart your path, 
 and suddenly lost to view, he was like those 
 bright insects that a sunbeam shows you, en- 
 dianted, as it were, with their own rapid flight, 
 but too quick and dazzling for the eye to 
 follow. 
 
 *' Alive as he was to mischief and fun of 
 every sort, I did not wonder that he should
 
 186 DE LTSLE. 
 
 sometimes indulge in the pleasure of bewilder- 
 ing others ; but that at no time he should covet 
 their applause, was strange to me, who sickened 
 for the esteem of those I myself esteemed not. 
 I did not very often try for an instant to arrest 
 my little quicksilver friend, for the purpose of 
 seriously investigating what his disposition might 
 one day become, for, in truth, I liked him as he 
 was, and could have looked for hours with 
 interest and amusement at a countenance so 
 changeable and brilliant, could he have prevailed 
 upon himself to sit quiet half an hour for any 
 purpose, but, least of all, the purpose of being 
 scrutinized too deeply. 
 
 - "It was this various, mischievous, yet at- 
 taching creature that appeared to take his leave 
 of me in so characteristic a style. I supported 
 the farce of eternal resentment for an injury to 
 which I well knew he was no ways accessary, 
 for a few minutes; and then intreating him to 
 have mercy on my furniture, as I should have 
 no time to have it repaired if he broke any, I 
 renewed the conversation his abrupt entrance 
 had suspended. 
 
 " But Briihl had no notion of not being at- 
 tended to. With a sly kick he overturned a
 
 DE LISLE. 187 
 
 little table near me, and down came a dejeunt 
 of beautiful china, and an inkstand that failed 
 not to send its jetty streams meandering across 
 the floor. There was an immediate confusion, 
 and even I was obliged to move to escape a 
 black train to my gown. 
 
 " ' Thank Heaven !' cried the incorrigible 
 little Chevalier, ' I have got you out of that 
 great chair at last ; and now listen to me.' 
 
 " He led me by the ends of my scarf out of 
 hearing, and resumed, ' I never yet paid you a 
 compliment that was worth having — it was wise 
 to keep something in reserve against our part- 
 ing. You must do to-morrow a kind act for 
 me to my little cousin, whose mother — ' he 
 paused. 
 
 " ' Has done an unkind one by me, you mean, 
 I suppose. I can forgive their hatred the more 
 readily, as I suffer, in truth, little from their 
 resentment. What would you have me do .?' 
 
 *' 'Order your carriage to-morrow an hour 
 earlier, and stop at the great church on your 
 left hand. It will be dark, but the church will 
 be open, and lighted up. If I can be there, I 
 will ; if not, go in, and you will find my cousin 
 praying. It is the hour at which she goes with
 
 188 DE LISLE. 
 
 only her maid. Find some way of addressing 
 her, and tell her where Lesson now is ; that he 
 still loves her, and never loved any one else."* 
 
 '* ' Am I to make that gratifying confession 
 in my own name .?' asked I with a smile, not so 
 much at the oddity of the request, as at the 
 unusual seriousness of the speaker. 
 
 *' ' Assuredly ! in no other would it have any 
 weight.** 
 
 " * Chevalier, I will not refuse : first, because 
 I like to oblige you ; and secondly, because you 
 might misconstrue my motives were I to de- 
 cline : but tell me why you do not inform her 
 of this yourself.'^' 
 
 " He looked irresolute for a moment ; then 
 darting on me one of those piercing glances, 
 with which he seemed to dive into the very soul, 
 he said, ' Who shall keep my counsel if I cannot 
 keep it myself ? Enough that I scarcely see my 
 cousin, and would not be listened to were I to 
 make any one of these assertions.' 
 
 " ' You will laugh at me, Gustavus, but I 
 would I could make them any where but in a 
 church !"* 
 
 " ' Why so ; are they not true ?' 
 
 Are they quite the subjects to be discussed 
 
 a i
 
 DE LISLE. 189 
 
 in the house of prayer and the sanctuary of 
 death?' 
 
 ** ' Your reproof is just ; but custom autho- 
 rizes the discussion of yet less pious topics in a 
 Catholic church, at a moment when service is 
 not actually celebrating. That the air of a 
 place of worship should have an eff'ect on those 
 who enter it with devotional feelings ; that the 
 ground on which they stand to them is holy 
 ground, I can understand and believe. But 
 what pan it be to you ? The spot has no sacred 
 association in your mind ; you have heard there 
 no word of power ; you have shed there no tear 
 of pious gratitude ; the whole edifice to you 
 is as a blank ; and since in the living you have 
 no interest, the ashes of the dead should be 
 more silent still.' 
 
 " The little Chevalier might have gone on 
 much longer uninterrupted, for he had touched 
 a string that jarred my own desolateness ; and 
 I felt bowed to the earth by a boy, whose spor- 
 tive temper and merry gambols had made me 
 hitherto consider him as my plaything, certain- 
 ly never as my judge. I said nothing, and join- 
 ed the rest of the party, who were still lament- 
 ing over my broken cups.
 
 190 DE LISLE. 
 
 " The exaggeration of conversation never 
 strikes one as so ludicrously contemptible, as 
 at the moment when something serious and real 
 has acted on the feelings. The pang was still 
 at my heart, and I had no patience to complain 
 about china. 
 
 "At the appointed hour, on the following 
 day, I stopped at the gateway to the church, 
 and finding no one awaiting me, I entered alone. 
 I had written a few lines, in case I should have 
 no opportunity of speaking to the young lady. 
 The church was uncommonly dark ; the only 
 light there was fell full on a kneeling figure, who 
 answered the description given by Gustavus of 
 his cousin. She had, however, a female com- 
 panion ; and rather wishing it might not be her 
 mother, I approached cautiously. Perhaps my 
 stealing step attracted attention sooner than a 
 more careless one would have done. The ladies 
 both turned their heads, and displayed features 
 and physiognomies so strikingly dissimilar, that 
 a painter might have chosen them merely as 
 contrasts, though they had also pretensions to 
 much individual beauty. 
 
 " The one I sought was evidently the oldest, 
 but had she been of the same age she would
 
 DE LISLE. 191 
 
 have still looked the eldest. It was the style 
 of her beauty, whicli had neither spirit nor 
 lightness to recommend it ; even her humble 
 attitude was noble and imposing, rather than 
 graceful and touching. The outline of her face 
 was Grecian; but it was cold, almost amounting 
 to severity. Her heavy eye fell upon me, and 
 was withdrawn without any apparent conscious- 
 ness of having seen any thing. Not so her com- 
 panion, who, by a quick motion of her head 
 shaking back the long fair hair that almost 
 blinded her, fixed upon me a pair of laughing 
 blue eyes, in which surprise and curiosity were 
 depicted ; then, colouring at my observation, 
 hastily cast them on the ground. 
 
 " There were several persons at no great dis- 
 tance from us ; it was in Italian, therefore, that 
 I said, ' A stranger hopes for your prayers, 
 gentle ladies.' 
 
 " The youngest made the sign of the cross, 
 and, bowing her head, in a low tone replied, 
 ' Assuredly !' 
 
 " * And you,' I continued, addressing her 
 companion ; ' do you refuse my petition ?' 
 
 "She arose, and with an air of grave dig- 
 nity, the most chilling I had ever witnessed.
 
 192 DE LISLE. 
 
 I 
 
 said, ' I am ever ready to pray for the unfortu- 
 nate.' 
 
 " ' Then, lady, redouble your petitions for 
 Count Lesson, for he is surely unfortunate.' 
 
 '* There was a shade of displeasure on her 
 unbending features, as she replied, ' Doubtless, 
 for he is guilty !' 
 
 *' ' Not so guilty as you think ; he is not un- 
 faithful.' I held out the letter as I spoke. She 
 blushed, but it was with indignation. 
 
 " * Tell your employer,' she said contemp- 
 tuously, ' that I never receive letters clandes- 
 tinely, and should not begin in a church. He 
 should have known me better :' and making a 
 sign to her companion, she would have passed 
 me. 
 
 " I stepped forward to prevent her. ' Heur 
 me !' I cried, ' hear but one word for your own 
 sake. It was not Count Lesson that wished 
 me to justify his conduct to you. Knowing his 
 pride, how could you think it ? It was a secret 
 friend who doubtless thought you might re- 
 gret the man you once intended to wed. He 
 wished me to assure you of Lesson's unabated 
 tenderness and ' 
 
 " She stopped me. ' What is his tenderness 
 to me ? Was it strong enough to cut the Gor-
 
 DE LISLE. 193 
 
 dian knot that bound him to a worthless wo- 
 man ? or to save from his dagger the life of 
 my affianced husband T 
 
 " * Lady, your accusations refute one an» 
 other. If you did not love Lesson, how could 
 you be jealous of him ? And if you did love 
 him, can you quarrel with him for risking his 
 life rather than lose you .P' 
 
 " ' And by what right did he seek to make 
 an honest man the victim of his lawless pas- 
 sions ? his own life was not his to risk, still less 
 that of another. We were parted. I asked a 
 sacrifice which he would not make. He weigh- 
 ed me against a hired mistress, and I was found 
 light in the balance. It was well ; I had not 
 his heart, but, at least, I had my own liberty, 
 and could dispose of it without consulting him.' 
 
 " Her haughty manner and bitter tone pro- 
 voked me. There was no reason why I should 
 bear it ; and stepping back no longer to oppose 
 her retreat, I bowed in silence. 
 
 " She seemed struck with the change, and in 
 a softer accent said, ' If, indeed. Lesson did not 
 prompt you to this bold step, who did ?' 
 
 " ' One,' I replied, ' I never more may see, 
 but whom I do not therefore intend to betray.' 
 
 " ' I am sure," said the younger lady, who 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194" DE LISLE. 
 
 had hitherto watched us in silence, though with 
 eager looks — 'I am sure that it was my brother, 
 for you are Madame de Lausanne.' 
 
 " I smiled. ^ Who you are, fair lady, I 
 know not, and therefore cannot say who your 
 brother may be ; but, it seems, you know who 
 I am.' 
 
 *' One would have thought my name pos- 
 sessed a petrifying quality, for the cousin of 
 Gustavus remained immovable after she had 
 heard it, leaning against a pillar, her eyes dis- 
 tended and fixed upon me ; while her cheek 
 turned from red to white, and settled at last 
 into a livid paleness. 
 
 " I was shocked ; but, before I could speak, 
 she addressed me in a low, sepulchral tone. 
 ' The evil you have done cannot be recalled ; 
 the misery you have inflicted cannot be unfelt ; 
 but spare ! oh spare Gustavus ! choose some 
 older, richer, steadier victim, but let my youth- 
 ful cousin escape !' 
 
 " She stopped ; but her clasped hands, her 
 beseeching look, her attitude, which was almost 
 as if she would have cast herself at my feet, did 
 not speak less to the soul than her words. I 
 mildly implored her to be calm, told her what- 
 ever evil she might fear from my presence must
 
 DE LISLE. 195 
 
 cease now, since at her mother's instigation I 
 was sent out of the country, and should quit 
 Dresden in a few minutes. 
 
 '* She started, and quickly answered, ' This 
 is revenge, not justice ! If you choose to be re- 
 called, I will solicit for you. The feehngs of 
 private families should not sway pubHc men ; 
 and if you have not drawn down upon you this 
 exile in some other way, you shall not be sacri- 
 ficed to our enmity, however deserved.' 
 
 " ' And what, lady,' I coldly rejoined, ' if 
 Therese de Lausanne too is proud ? Think you, 
 how dear soever Dresden might be to me, I 
 would be recalled by ^ou f You have accused 
 me,— nay, reviled and scorned me, — unknown, 
 unheard, I am condemned by you. Oppressed 
 by one of your family, I liave some right to 
 complain of you, and yet I came here to assuage 
 your sorrows by justifying your lover. Mis- 
 take me not, I lay no claim to your gratitude. 
 I did it not for your sake ; for what were you to 
 me ? Yet with an unbiassed spirit did I meet 
 the daughter of my persecutor : it was possible 
 you were not my enemy ; and if you were, you 
 thought you had cause, and I could forgive it.' 
 
 " My words kindled to a flame the haughty 
 temper of her I addressed : her pale cheek was 
 
 K 2
 
 196 DE LISLE. 
 
 flushed with crimson, and her calm eye flashed 
 fire. Yet her self-controul did not desert her. 
 She stood for a moment, as if unwilling to seem 
 as though she could shrink from ought I might 
 say ; then bowing with the air of one who dis- 
 dained to answer, she moved on slow and stately. 
 I followed, without a wish to renew our con- 
 versation, but willing to lose no more time, as 
 I had some distance to travel. 
 
 " At the porch I heard the youngest of the 
 ladies exclaim in a subdued tone, ' My bro- 
 ther !' and immediately Gustavus sprung for- 
 ward. Without noticing either his sister or 
 cousin, he exclaimed, 'Where are you, Therese? 
 time wears, and the gates will be closed !' 
 
 " I obeyed the impulse of his arm, and hurried 
 on to the carriage. ' Can you tell me,' said he, 
 ' in two words, what has passed ?' 
 
 " ' No; but you can accompany me to the first 
 barrier, and I will tell you all."* 
 
 " He jumped into the carriage, and by the 
 light of my lamps I beheld the ladies we had 
 quitted joined by a servant, but lingering on their 
 way to cast a look of regret after Gustavus. 
 How much gratuitous misery there is in the 
 world ! One would have thought, from their 
 anxious faces, that I was at least an evil spirit
 
 DE LISLE. 197 
 
 flying away with their friend to some unknown 
 region, from whence escape would scarcely be 
 possible. Instead of which I was a very quiet 
 person taking a* boy a drive of a few hundred 
 yards, after which we were to part without any 
 probable chance of ever meeting again. 
 
 " When I had given the promised relation to 
 the little Chevalier, he laughed at the anxiety 
 expressed about himself. ' These virtuous dam- 
 sels,' said he, ' think one lost unless we for 
 ever breathe in their holy atmosphere ; not that 
 I am disposed to quiz my cousin, who is a 
 superior and irreproachable person ; a little upon 
 stilts, — but that is not wonderful, it being the 
 consequence of her unbending principles. You 
 think it is her temper that is inflexible — not a 
 bit of it ; she was meant to be very amiable, but 
 unluckily was born with a great deal of en- 
 thusiasm. Now this is a quality, or sentiment, 
 call it what you will, that can hardly be anni- 
 hilated : like a smothering fire, quench it in one 
 place and it will burst out in another. 
 
 '' ' My poor cousin, firmly convinced that en- 
 thusiasm led to passion, and passion always to 
 extravagance, and often to wickedness, set about 
 modelling her's after a fashion of her own. It 
 will do for her, for she is pure and upright ;
 
 198 DE LISLE. 
 
 • 
 
 but her rules are too severe for others, parti- 
 cularly for them who mix at all in the world. 
 
 " ' She has quarrelled with an only brother 
 she doated upon, because he married a new love 
 in preference to an old one. Now she liked the 
 new love and did not like the old one ; and not 
 a soul could ever understand her giving up her 
 brother for a woman she did not care twopence 
 for. She thought it dishonourable in him to 
 change his mind ; the more so, as she piques herself 
 on her own stedfastness, not to persons, but to 
 principles. She loved Lesson, and a little j ealousy 
 unknown to herself may have mingled with her 
 desire to separate you and him ; but she said, 
 and I make no doubt believed, that she only 
 urged him to do what was right for his own 
 sake, and should never esteem him if he kept up 
 an acquaintance she thought disgraceful. 
 
 " ' Lesson was much attached to her, but he is 
 proud ; he did not approve of being dragooned 
 into virtue, and you know the result. His 
 duel, which might have recorhmended him to 
 many a love-sick Miss, filled the pious ,mind of 
 my cousin with horror. To her it appeared 
 both the act of a maniac and a savage. Still I 
 thought she loved him, though perhaps in spite 
 of herself ; not so much from her depression
 
 DE LISLE. 199 
 
 since their quarrel, as from the look of serenity 
 she has worn since the breaking oif of her second 
 engagement. 
 
 *' ' Then, you see, I would have reconciled 
 them ; but if she won't be softened, why she 
 must console herself with her obstinacy the best 
 way she can, and call it lofty sentiment and 
 indispensable consistency.' 
 
 " ' And perhaps,' said I, ' so it is, though pos- 
 sibly a little distorted.' 
 
 " ' It is utter nonsense,' cried the little Che- 
 valier impatiently ; ' and I wish you, who are 
 clever, would explain to me why so many more 
 silly things are done by wise women than by 
 fools.' 
 
 " ' Perhaps it only strikes you more, as being 
 a greater incongruity.' 
 
 '* ' No, no ; it's a positive fact. How many more 
 unaccountable things an intellectual woman does, 
 that a mere frivolous Miss would avoid as too 
 absurd ! How much more apt they are to have 
 treacherous friends and stupid tyrannical hus- 
 bands I I pray Heaven ! my daughter may be a 
 driveller, and I am fully determined she shall 
 never learn to read or write.' 
 
 '* 'And your wife ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh ! my wife ! don't give me the ague : I ne-
 
 200 DE LISLE. 
 
 ver think about disagreeable things, and so I will 
 think as little about bidding you adieu as possible.' 
 " So saying, he hastily embraced me, let him- 
 self out of the carriage, and told them to drive 
 on, before I felt quite certain he was no longer by 
 my side. It was well that he committed himself 
 by no comments on his future wife, for two years 
 after I heard a dispensation had been procured, 
 and that Gustavus Briihl became by the death 
 of several relations an excellent match, and was 
 married to this very cousin he had described so 
 cavalierly. Whether she became more indul- 
 gent, or he became less so, I never learned. 
 
 " I made the best of my way to Berlin, less 
 from any curiosity to see this creation of a royal 
 philosopher, than because it suited me to go to 
 the only place to which I could, in the hurry 
 of the moment, procure letters of introduction. 
 The country through which I passed had so little 
 to recommend it, that I turned to my books to 
 beguile the lassitude of the way. But, in the 
 hurry of my departure, nothing had been ar- 
 ranged, nothing was found at hand that T wanted. 
 
 '' I turned over the leaves of a heavy narrative 
 of the campaigns of the great King of Prussia ; 
 but more recent exploits in that very country he 
 had so often overrun seemed to throw to a dis-
 
 DE LISLE. 201 
 
 tance events, the magnitude of which had been 
 once considered with breathless anxiety by gene- 
 rals and kingdoms: the former had scarcely 
 left a name behind, while the latter had under- 
 gone changes more or less wonderful or dread- 
 ful. A conqueror had set his foot on Prussia, 
 who paid with her blood the aggressions she 
 had in her hour of prosperity made on the 
 defencelesss Poles. 
 
 " As I pondered on these things in the shift- 
 ing drama of life, I became more and more 
 disgusted with the prognostics of my author. 
 It was true, that I had no right to quarrel with 
 a man, because he had not the art of divining ; 
 but his impertinent prophecies, which a little, a 
 very little time had given the lie to, put me out 
 of humour, and I once more visited the pockets 
 of the carriage, in hopes of routing out some- 
 thing more amusing. Success did not reward 
 my perseverance. I could find nothing better 
 than an English novel, which at first gave me 
 hopes ; but, turning to the title page, I found it 
 was ' St. Leon.' I knew the book but too well, 
 I remembered it but too accurately. 
 
 *' To an ordinary person, the works of God- 
 win are but as a bad dream, from which he turns 
 hastily aside, regretting that the talents of the 
 
 K 5
 
 ^02 DE LISLE. 
 
 author will not suffer him to consign it to in- 
 stant oblivion. On those who possess imagi- 
 nation and sensibility, these singular produc- 
 tions of distorted genius have, of course, a 
 much stronger eifect. Any unexplored path of 
 feeling and suffering is entered upon by such 
 persons with delight, though they may writhe 
 under the torture they have voluntarily inflict- 
 ed upon themselves. But even they reap from 
 such books but transient pain. 
 
 " Fresh thoughts and real sorrows soon blunt 
 the remembrance, however keen, of idle fic- 
 tions. To me, St. Leon was an undying pang. 
 I was not indeed immortal — I was not myste- 
 rious — I was not suspected of ought I was not 
 content to avow, though possibly not quite 
 able to justify ; — but St. Leon himself was not 
 more, without tie and kindred, than myself. 
 I had no recourse to supernatural means, and 
 yet, like him, I felt surrounded by beings I 
 pressed against, but could not mingle with. 
 My desultory life seemed to have already 
 stretched its span beyond the narrow limits 
 assigned to man. In the days of careless child- 
 hood, what had I not felt and suffered ! Time 
 advanced, but it brought to me only increased 
 oppression, and a more entire conviction of
 
 DE LISLE. 203 
 
 solitude. 1 cultivated my faculties, indeed, and 
 rejoiced at times in their splendour: but I 
 forgot not that all this, and more than this, 
 was but as some bright painting upon dust 
 and ashes; that, with all my efforts, I was 
 little more than the houses in Berlin, whose 
 gaudy fronts are the mask of wretchedness ! 
 
 " The sentiments of St. Leon, cut off from 
 his species, not daring to love where he knew 
 he would not be trusted ; conscious of superior 
 powers, which cast around him a gloomy splen- 
 dour, and yet bitterly feeling their insufficiency 
 to confer happiness on himself or others ; all 
 this, — nay his very selfishness and juvenile va- 
 nity were but the mirror that reflected my 
 own impressions. I saw, too, that in propor- 
 tion as the injustice of the world increased his 
 misery — his lonely misery — he grew colder in 
 heart, and weaker in principle. 
 
 " It was like perusing my own destiny, and, 
 Cassandra like, I beheld the future, over which 
 Providence throws a veil to most observers. 
 What I suffered when first I read this singular 
 production of the English novelist I cannot 
 describe, and no one can guess ; for, to do so 
 with any truth, vhere must be a previous know- 
 ledge of my character, as well as the dej;ails
 
 204 DE LISLE. 
 
 of my situation, which no one can know : 
 for the first, it has been worth no one's while 
 to study ; and the second; I labour to forget 
 myself. It is not the mere absence of every 
 benevolent feeling that renders the perusal of 
 Godwin's works so painful ; it is not the gloomy 
 picture he draws of life, (for that could hardly 
 appal those who are not actually suffering;) 
 it is not his refinements on egotism — chilling 
 and debasing as such reflections are — no, it is 
 something more — some inexplicable, mysterious 
 power, that startles the very inward spirit, and 
 remains as a dead weight on the heart, which, 
 by every effort to throw it off, is fixed there 
 the more ponderously and immovably. 
 
 " When I had finished St. Leon, I felt that 
 I could encounter a supernatural being, how 
 powerful and mischievous soever, with less ter- 
 ror and bitterness — I had almost said less ha- 
 tred — than would be excited by the presence 
 of a man capable of pouring forth, in so many 
 successive volumes, opinions and sentiments 
 which doubtless occur to many for a moment, 
 but which scarcely could be the constant habit 
 of thought with any one ; and which, at any 
 rate, the unfortunate person suffering under
 
 DE LISLE. 205 
 
 would in mercy withdraw from the public 
 eye. 
 
 " Few could have a right to think worse of 
 mankind than myself. I could not have much 
 sympathy with excellence, because I was so 
 unfortunate as usually to doubt its existence * 
 so far ray impressions were in unison with those 
 of the Englishmen ; but here I stopped. I 
 had no fiendlike joy in detecting every where 
 meanness and heartlessness. I could trust 
 nothing that I saw ; but I loved to believe that 
 there existed beings I did not see worthy to be 
 trusted. And even if it were true, as I some- 
 times feared, that every individual, when un- 
 masked, betrays the same odious features, it 
 was a consolation to me to reflect, that as thou- 
 sands could not be behind the scenes, the pa- 
 geant to them was gay and cheerful. What 
 if it were an illusion ? it had on them the ef- 
 fect of reality, and things are but what they 
 seem. 
 
 " I envied the pleasant dreams of others, and 
 could not imagine the wanton barbarity of lar- 
 bouring to rouse them by destroying their in- 
 nocent pleasure. The disenchanted earth to me 
 had no lustre to lose ; but I could remember
 
 206 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 with pleasure, that others continued to see in 
 it the rainbow lines of varied bliss. With such 
 a fund of dislike to Godwin, it is not to be won- 
 dered at, that I carefully avoided his works, and 
 was more disposed to pitch St. Leon out of 
 the carriage-window into the snow, than to at- 
 tempt a second perusal of a book which awak- 
 ened such peculiarly painful associations in my 
 mind. I had a few more novels scattered about, 
 in odd volumes, and I tried to read them ; 
 but those in my own languai^e had so much 
 passion or metaphysics, or both, interwoven 
 with their stories, and the French ones were so 
 mawkishly sentimental and artificial, that I soon 
 found lulling me to «leep was the best service 
 I should get at their hands. 
 
 " My tedious journey was rewarded at last, 
 as, on a clear bright day I entered Berlin, which 
 is one of the largest, cleanest, and most highly 
 ornamented towns in Germany. Its environs 
 are desolate without wildness, and melancholy 
 without sublimity. The heavy sand, in which 
 my carriage sank at every step much deeper 
 than was pleasant, had fatigued me nearly as 
 much as it must have done the horses ; and 
 when immediately afterwards I beheld gardens 
 mixed with the houses, avenues of trees, and a
 
 DE LISLE. 207 
 
 small but sunny river passing through the 
 town, my eye, gladdened and refreshed, was 
 prepared to like every thing it might rest upon 
 in Berlin. 
 
 *' I did not remain many days at the inn 
 where I first stopped. An eminent painter, to 
 whom I had been recommended, insisted upon 
 receiving me in his own house during my stay 
 in the Prussian capital. I could not have met 
 with a more useful cicerone, or a more intel- 
 ligent acquaintance. His house was splendid, 
 and his table open, not merely to the indigent 
 of his own class, but to every traveller who 
 had any claim to literary merit, and every 
 artist that chance threw in his way. 
 
 " He was unmarried, and, engrossed by his 
 profession, had no time to court the society of 
 women. A lady, indeed, resided under his 
 roof, but without taking any charge of the do- 
 mestic arrangements. She was the painter's 
 model — not his mistress — still less, if possible, 
 his companion. When I accepted the invita- 
 tion of my new acquaintance to his house, I was 
 not aware that I should find any one with him. 
 He mentioned the circumstance slightly as we 
 were going up-stairs, and did not even seem to 
 think an introduction necessary.
 
 208 DE LISLE. 
 
 " Though extremely struck on first behold- 
 ing a form of such singular symmetry, I did not 
 venture to look much at the fair stranger, fear- 
 ful of embarrassing her ; but this fear soon sub- 
 sided, and I had not been many hours in the 
 house before I discovered this breathing auto- 
 maton was nearly as incapable of emotion as 
 the marble statues that stood in the gallery. 
 There was some shyness too between us, on ac- 
 count of our relative situations. Though I was 
 a stranger in that country, and a mere visitor 
 at the painter's, I did not affect to conceal what 
 I had been, and really could not persuade my- 
 self tliat the profession of my companion was 
 one bit more creditable. But she thought 
 otherwise — modesty, she believed, might be a 
 grace, but was not a virtue ; whereas, chastity 
 appeared to her an indispensable one. 
 
 " She was not positively rude to me, for all 
 her qualities and sentiments were of too nega- 
 tive a sort to admit of her taking very decided 
 steps in any matter ; but I was so evidently a 
 constraint upon her ; she addressed me, when 
 compelled so to do, in such a doubting, hesitating 
 way ; her manner was so uncertain and equivo- 
 cal, and her usually cold monosyllables were so 
 reluctant and icy when I wished to show her
 
 DE LISLE. 209 
 
 attention, that I determined on shortening my 
 visit to the painter, and, as the ci vilest way of 
 doing so, my visit to Berlin altogether. 
 
 " It was a place I was glad to have seen, 
 but it did not diminish my regret at quitting 
 Dresden, which, as a residence, was infinitely to 
 be preferred ; and was also the resort of stran- 
 gers, on account of the gaiety and splendour of 
 the Elector's Court, to a much greater degree 
 than Berlin, even whilst its celebrated monarch 
 lived. 
 
 " I next directed my steps to Hamburgh, and 
 though the length of the journey, and its 
 expense, often induced repentance, I arrived 
 at last, and at the house of a considerable 
 merchant was received with a decree of 
 kindness, for which I was not the less grate- 
 ful for having some claim upon his atten- 
 tion. Through my means he had once de- 
 rived considerable access to his commercial pros- 
 perity ; but how many had I benefitted who had 
 thought themselves exonerated not merely from 
 all gratitude, but even from the trouble of re- 
 membering my existence ! At the merchant's 
 house I met with traders from various nations ; 
 but, my curiosity once satisfied, I soon found as 
 little pleasure in their company as they did in 
 mine.
 
 210 DE LISLE. 
 
 " A young Dutchman, however, had viewed 
 me with more partiality than he thought fit to 
 betray ; and kept his own secret so well, that I 
 should certainly as soon have thought of his 
 confessing an enthusiastic admiration for Ho- 
 mer as for me. My host was made the confi- 
 dant, for my unsentimental lover was timid as 
 well as cautious, and lived in dread of my ridi- 
 cule. 
 
 " ' He is wealthy, good-humoured, and easily 
 swayed, ' said my friend, ' and altogether a 
 person I recommend to you ; for, though living 
 in Holland may not suit your lively genius, you 
 may bear it for a little while, and easily get a 
 pension at his marriage, which will prevent the 
 necessity in future of having recourse to persons 
 for subsistence you neither esteem nor like." 
 
 " I don''t know why this arrangement was 
 more odious to me than any I had submitted to 
 
 since the death of the Prince of Z , for there 
 
 was not much to object to in the Dutchman, but 
 I certainly had a presentiment of evil, that after 
 events sufficiently justified. My purse at the 
 time was much too low to allow of my giving 
 vent to any of the repugnances that assailed me, 
 and, accusing myself of unpardonable fastidious- 
 ness, I took the advice of my friend, and ac-
 
 DE LISLE. 211 
 
 companied the foreigner to his own uninterest- 
 ing country. 
 
 " The Dutch are a sober, decorous people, 
 and the family of my protector were peculiarly 
 strict in their notions. I soon perceived a 
 change in his cheerfulness, and readily traced 
 it to the persecutions he suffered on my account. 
 Though too obstinate to give me up, he began 
 to hate me, as the cause of contention with 
 persons from whom he had hitherto met with 
 unmixed kindness and approbation. I should 
 have settled all their disputes by leaving him, 
 had I been able ; but my health had suffered 
 much from the sea voyage, during which we had 
 bad weather, and worse provisions. Besides, I 
 had no money, for my protector was more ava- 
 ricious than I could have supposed possible in 
 one so young. 
 
 "It was so new to me to be ill and weak, 
 that my spirits sank, and I had no longer ener- 
 gy to think any exertion worth while. Nor 
 were my evils altogether imaginary. A fever 
 carried off my German maid, after a short ill- 
 ness ; and as she had lived with me many years, 
 and though very troublesome in her temper, 
 and convinced she did me an honour to serve me, 
 was upon the whole attached to me, and scru-
 
 212 DE LISLE. 
 
 pulously honest, my loss was great. What in 
 my drooping state I felt, beyond what was rea- 
 sonable, as I saw the earth close on the only 
 human being who affected to care for me, it is 
 idle to dwell upon. 
 
 " It was said that her fever was infectious ; 
 but, though I had never left her during her 
 illness, it respected me. The conduct of my 
 protector through the whole business was such 
 as to add bitterness to my aversion. I was 
 roused by his heartless selfishness to a degree 
 of indignation his ill usage of me alone had 
 failed to inspire. My anger alarmed him, and 
 he consented to give me money to convey me 
 to Brussels. 
 
 " I met there with several old acquaintance, 
 who not having seen me since the days of my 
 
 splendour, in the lifetime of the Prince of Z , 
 
 were not a little shocked at again meeting me 
 under such different circumstances. Their com- 
 passion gave me a degree of pain I can scarcely 
 account for, but it would have availed nothing 
 to have shown it ; accordingly I affected gaiety, 
 and complained of nothing but bodily weakness, 
 which was indeed fast leaving me. 
 
 " I had not been many months at Brussels, 
 when an Englishman was introduced to me.
 
 DE LISLE. 213 
 
 whose passion for gaming was a vice, but not a 
 frenzy, for he contrived to make it subservient 
 to his design of enriching himself. Major Wil- 
 mot was neither elegant, graceful, nor romantic ; 
 but he was nevertheless popular among a cer- 
 tain set. If he was not refined, neither was he 
 ignorant ; though not highly polished, he was 
 not without a military air and look of distinc- 
 tion, rie told a good story, sang a good song, 
 and, having some pretensions to comeliness of 
 form and feature, contrived to make his way 
 even among those who disapproved of his ge- 
 neral conduct. 
 
 " Supposing him to be occupied solely by 
 the most engrossing of all passions, I was a 
 good deal surprised to find he had serious 
 thoughts of offering me a share in his adven- 
 tures, as he termed it. I told him he had fixed 
 on a bad person, as, so far from aiding any of 
 his designs against his unwary companions, I 
 would not answer for not counteracting them, 
 whenever they seemed to me unfair. 
 
 " ' I not only ask not your assistance,' replied 
 Major Wilmot, ' but I do not even object to 
 your rescuing any of these supposed victims 
 from my snares, for, in truth, I lay none. I 
 love play — I am cool, fortunate, and skilful.
 
 Sil4 DE LISLE. 
 
 and therefore I do most frequently win ; and if 
 I did not, I would give it up. I wish to have 
 a pleasant house at Spa ; the charm of your 
 manners and conversation, even without your 
 superior talents and accomplishments, cannot 
 fail of making it one. This arrangement can- 
 not last beyond the season at Spa, which is now 
 scarcely begun ; so you will hardly have time 
 to be very tired of my company. 
 
 " The tone of levity with which this was 
 said, was somewhat grating, and the style of 
 thing altogether was not what I liked ; but, 
 making a virtue of necessity, I affected more 
 cheerfulness than I felt, and acceded to the 
 proposal. Major Wilmot did not pretend to 
 be in love with me, but he treated me with 
 more real kindness than many who had feigned 
 a more passionate attachment, and perhaps 
 thought that they felt it. 
 
 " Our pursuits accorded but ill, indeed ; yet, 
 as his interfered not with me, and mine were 
 indulgently attended to, I had no cause of com- 
 plaint. He was not as rich as many whose 
 fortunes 1 had helped to dissipate, but, after the 
 Dutchman, I could only wonder at his prodi- 
 gality. He had it much at heart to procure for 
 me some more permanent situation, though he
 
 * DE LISLE. 215 
 
 assured me he wished to retain me as long as it 
 suited my own convenience : but I was aware 
 that this was little more than civility, and was 
 anxious to exonerate him from an expense he 
 could so ill bear when his Spa resources failed. 
 I had soon many opportunities of changing my 
 temporary abode ; but as there was no absolute 
 necessity for me to decide instantly, I gladly 
 availed myself of the respite, and was willing to 
 put off the evil day as long as possible. 
 
 " One day that I had been waiting dinner 
 with many of Major Wilmot's friends longer 
 than he was wont to keep us, he returned, ac- 
 companied by a young countryman of his own, 
 who was introduced to me as Mr. De Lisle. 
 The Englishman bowed in silence, and almost 
 immediately drew back. I was little disposed 
 to seek out a youth, who either from dislike 
 or shyness showed a desire to avoid me; and 
 I continued, therefore, my attention to a 
 Frenchman, who was giving me an account of 
 some political events in his own country, which, 
 being interesting to him, could not fail, he 
 thought, of being equally so to me. 
 
 " Meanwhile, though I raised not my eyes, 
 I saw every motion of my new guest, who had 
 inspired me with a degree of curiosity I was
 
 216 DE LISLE. 
 
 not very apt to feel. Nor was this wonderful, 
 for Mr. De Lisle was not a person to overlook 
 any where, and standing as he did then, in 
 no very chosen company, he looked to belong 
 to another order of beings. I had seen many 
 features more regular, striking, and even hand- 
 some ; I had seen many forms more magnifi- 
 cent, and even more graceful; and yet I had 
 never seen any one who excited my attention, 
 or commanded my respect, in the same degree. 
 
 " There was a self-possession in his very 
 shyness, a steady calmness on his youthful brow, 
 a simple air of noble, tranquil dignity about 
 his whole person, that prevented the usual 
 scrutiny that one is apt to make of every stran- 
 ger who has any pretension to beauty. Yet, 
 as his quick eye glanced over the motley group, 
 and a repressed working of the muscles of his 
 mouth showed that the survey was unfavour- 
 able, I could not help fancying what that 
 countenance would be, if once he suffered it 
 to represent all the feelings it was so formed 
 to express. 
 
 " Some one addressed him; his voice sound- 
 ed not like that of my other guests : clear and 
 various in its inflections, it seemed subdued 
 and low, only because he would not take the
 
 DE LISLE. 217 
 
 trouble to raise it : his manner was haughty, 
 yet not sufficiently so to give offence ; and 
 though there was something in the bend of 
 his finely-formed head that spoke more of self- 
 respect than consideration for others, the im- 
 pression was rather that he was indeed superior 
 to them, than that he fancied himself so. Upon 
 the whole, I was not so much charmed with 
 his appearance, as disgusted, in consequence, 
 with that of others. He said but little at 
 dinner ; he even most frequently seemed not 
 to attend to what was going on around him ; 
 and yet I had never before been so oppressed 
 with German dulness, or so provoked by 
 French flippancy. 
 
 " It was singular that the mere presence of a 
 youth, who deigned not to interest himself in 
 any topic of conversation that was started, 
 should hold up to my mind's eye a glass, in 
 which the imperfections of the whole company, 
 whether of taste or feeling, were so glaringly 
 displayed ; but such was my conviction that it 
 must all be intolerable to him, that I suffered 
 all the constraint of one responsible for the 
 ignorance, or inelegance, exhibited at their 
 table. 
 
 " I withdrew early, for, though I had never 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 DE LISLE. 
 
 been used to the fashion, I found it was Major 
 Wilmot's ; and as his companions often drank 
 deep, I was as well pleased to be out of the way. 
 There was to be a public ball that night, but I 
 had no intention of going to it, for I had made 
 no party, and well knew, in the attractions of 
 play, my existence would speedily be forgotten 
 by Major Wilmot and his intimate associates. 
 In my distant apartment, the voices of the 
 revellers scarcely reached me ; and after having 
 read till overpowered with sleep, I was pre- 
 paring to retire for the night, when the quick, 
 heavy step of Major Wilmot sounded in the 
 passage. As he entered, I saw by the flashing 
 of his eye, and the ominous colour that stained 
 his cheek, that he was better at home than in 
 the ball-room. But, though elevated, he was 
 not confused, as I soon found from his conver- 
 sation. 
 
 " He sought me to speak of young De Lisle, 
 and to urge my going to the ball for the chance 
 of meeting him. He represented him as a per- 
 son worth my attention, both from his situation 
 and disposition. ' Young as he is,' continued 
 Wilmot, ' he will not be an easy prey ; but, once 
 caught, you may retain him while ye list. He 
 has hitherto shown no great predilection for the
 
 DE LISLE. 219 
 
 society of women, partly from a contempt of 
 their abilities, partly from a distrust of their 
 motives in showing him attention ; for his 
 mother has convinced him he is a good match, 
 and therefore he wraps around him the mail of 
 proofs otherwise his indolent indifference, and 
 stalks abroad more ready to bid defiance than 
 to conciliate regard. If indeed he has never 
 loved, it is all in your favour. The first fancy 
 of the sort will be to him a serious matter, and 
 will overpower all his caution, natural and ac- 
 quired.* 
 
 " Major Wilmot said a great deal more ; 
 and willing to follow his advice, yet half 
 ashamed of plotting against a boy, I went to 
 the ball. He was there ; and I marked on his 
 intelligent countenance a shade of surprise at 
 ray appearing with an escort so little likely to 
 protect me. This at once showed me the ro- 
 mantic generosity of his temper. It was n 
 vain he had seen me the mistress of Wilii ot, 
 he had not suffered his imagination to take in 
 all the degradation of my situation ; he had sup- 
 posed I must have too much taste and delicacy 
 voluntarily to appear in public with half in- 
 toxicated companions. 
 
 " If I could not recover this unfavourable 
 
 L 2
 
 220 DE LISLE. 
 
 step, I could at least amuse and attract the 
 Englishman; — if I could not captivate his good 
 opinion, I could dazzle a sounder understand- 
 ing than his — and I did so; but what availed 
 it ? He suffered days and weeks to elapse, 
 without showing any inclination to cultivate 
 my acquaintance ; he discouraged all Major 
 Wilmot's advances ; refused all his invitations ; 
 and proved that, if we were not detected, at 
 least we were despised. Wilmot was piqued 
 into perseverance, but I intreated him to desist. 
 
 " ' If he seeks me of his own accord,' said I, 
 * he walks into the net with his eyes open, 
 and I may fairly close it round him ; but I will 
 not lay plans to entrap a youth who has quick* 
 ness enough to perceive the snare, and steadi- 
 ness enough to avoid it. There are not so many 
 such, that I need fear my generosity will ruin 
 me.' 
 
 " Major Wilmot swore my scruples were 
 equally absurd and ill-timed ; but, eager about 
 his own concerns, he willingly abandoned mine 
 to my own management. Chance favoured me 
 better than design could have done. I met 
 the Englishman at a poor cottage, wanting, as 
 it would seem, only an excuse to himself for
 
 DE LISLE. 221 
 
 again seeing me, and I took care he should have 
 plenty. 
 
 " The more I saw of Hubert De Lisle, the 
 more anxious I became to secure my conquest. 
 I had never before been ambitious of any in- 
 fluence but that which talent and judgment 
 will always give over the minds of our acquaint- 
 ance ; but, in fascinating the understanding of 
 the young Englishman, I found I did but half 
 my work. He had a heart too — and the far- 
 ther it lay removed from sight, the more earnest 
 I became to penetrate the hidden sanctuary 
 and rule the whole man. This was not merely 
 difficult, but to me exquisitely painful. Guess^ 
 ing his feelings was so often condemning my 
 own ! The more excellence I discovered in 
 him, the more I shrank from myself; and often, 
 when he has thought my tears a tribute to 
 some noble, generous feeling, did they flow in 
 bitterness over a degradation that never before 
 had been so fully revealed to me. 
 
 ''Formerly, when my own situation had struck 
 me as peculiarly humiliating, I felt only indig- 
 nation and abhorrence of the treachery and 
 selfishness that had placed me in it ; but when 
 I listened to the milder sentiments and purer
 
 222 DE LISLE. 
 
 thoughts of De Lisle, I saw that I too must 
 have been to blame ; and I shrank from show- 
 ing him the cold-hearted levity that had con- 
 tributed its aid towards fixing me in my de- 
 plorable profession. 
 
 '' I had never before paid any one the com- 
 pliment of affecting to be what I was not, 
 though I had indeed often confined to my own 
 bosom what I felt or suffered. But I could 
 not risk my influence with the Englishman, by 
 showing him the whole of a character, that, be- 
 side his youthful, generous spirit, almost looked 
 like depravity. One side only could I venture 
 to unveil, and even that I sought to render 
 more interesting than it really was. This con- 
 straint was at times fatiguing and unpleasant, 
 yet sometimes it did me good. I affected sim- 
 plicity, purity, and benevolence, until I half 
 persuaded myself that I really was what it 
 suited me to appear. 
 
 " Tliese illusions were amongst the sweetest 
 of my life ; I can never feel them again, for the 
 imagination can captivate but once in this way : 
 but that I have ever known the charm of being 
 earnestly and truly loved, and that for some 
 brief moments I have yielded ,to the belief that 
 I deserved such love, are blessings I owe to
 
 DE LISLE. 223 
 
 Hubert De Lisle ; and when I, and all that per- 
 taineth to me, no longer retain a trace in his 
 memory, he will live in mine as the solitary ray 
 of light that has streaked my dark and troubled 
 path. 
 
 " That I should have given pain to one to 
 whom I owe so much ; that I, who have en- 
 deavoured to benefit so many, should have in- 
 jured almost the only being who would not have 
 injured me, is a saddening thought : yet, after 
 all, I know not whether, in the fair balance of 
 pleasure and pain, I have not yielded him as 
 much of the former as of the latter. When I 
 reflect, that in my whole life I cannot number 
 even hours of enjoyment, unbroken and real, 
 his months of happiness seem to me of sufficient 
 force to outweigh more misery than my deser- 
 tion can have caused. It is true, that felicity is 
 easily forgotten, while it is the property of 
 grief, even when it seems extinct, to dull like a 
 flying cloud our brightest sunshine. When I 
 accompanied my lover to England, a new pros- 
 pect presented itself to me. The chance of a 
 separation seemed so painful to him, that I, 
 who could read every thought that glanced 
 across his noble brow, saw how easy it would 
 be for me to join my fate to his for ever. Little
 
 224 DE LISLE. 
 
 acquainted with the manners and customs of 
 England, I had only gathered from books that 
 people married much as they liked, and that 
 few things were reckoned a niisalUance, 
 
 '* I was unknown in his country ; I knew I 
 could assimilate my manners to those with whom 
 I lived, even should my natural ones be thought 
 too foreign. I was considerably older, indeed, 
 than De Lisle, and nearly penniless : but he 
 was an only son ; his parents loved him ; his 
 own fortune was ample ; and I, who had fasci- 
 nated so many, without desiring to do so, could 
 surely effect it, when I should have it so much 
 at heart. 
 
 " These thoughts gave me many an anxious 
 hour. I ardently wished to be received into 
 respectable society ; to have some exercise for 
 those social and natural affections, that are im- 
 planted in every human breast. If I was passion- 
 less, I was not utterly heartless. I never could 
 love Hubert as he loved me ; but I could and 
 did love him enough not to neglect any means 
 of contributing to his happiness, even to the 
 feicjning sentiments that I was unable to feel. 
 As far as I myself was concerned, the bright 
 side was indeed uppermost ; but when I thought 
 of my lover, the picture darkened. He was
 
 D£ LISLE. 2^5 
 
 Still very young, and might not know how un- 
 wise such a union would be for him. If he 
 discovered it when too late! — if he should 
 doubt my affection, or my conduct, how should 
 I exculpate myself? There was a shade of 
 distrust already in his character, struggling 
 with his nobler self ; my previous story, little 
 as I ever meant him to know of it, could not 
 but increase the propensity. And if chance 
 betrayed any part of it to the circle in which 
 he moved, how could his high spirit brook the 
 disgrace ! 
 
 " I saw but too plainly that it was scarcely 
 possible but that he must repent most bitterly 
 so rash a step. I had not the magnanimity to 
 give up the certain advantages that would ac- 
 crue to me, in favour of the chance of discom- 
 fort to him ; but I came to a compromise with my 
 conscience on no account to accelerate the event. 
 I affected not to understand his words, not to 
 read his looks, eloquent as they were. I spoke 
 of his family and occupations, as things that 
 must occasionally separate us. I adverted to 
 my own employments in his absence, and to 
 the joy of his return, when I saw that absence 
 weighed upon his spirits. 
 
 " He procured a cheerful house for me when
 
 226 DE LISLE. 
 
 we reached London, — at least as nearly ap- 
 proaching to cheerful as any thing in that gloomy, 
 dusky capital could well be, — and left me, as 1 
 plainly saw, with the firm intention of giving 
 me his name, as soon as the laws would permit 
 his disposing of his own. I passed the period 
 of his absence most unpleasantly. I was on the 
 eve of a solemn engagement which might con- 
 demn an amiable and highly-gifted young man, 
 in whose welfare I felt a very true interest, to 
 endless regrets. Could I ever be received with 
 real cordiality by a family whose hopes I blast- 
 ed ? This was doubtful — it soon ceased to be 
 so. I received a letter from Lady De Lisle, the 
 mother of Hubert, which at once tore the veil 
 from my eyes. 
 
 " This lady must have been born for intrigue, 
 so much did she seem to be in her element while 
 inditing this curious but convincing epistle. She 
 knew, either by intuition or secret communica- 
 tions, all her son's proceedings and thoughts ; and 
 her object was to show, that, by yielding to his 
 plan, I should be as far from happy as himself. I 
 saw I was mistaken in the idea that had seduced 
 me, of the facility with which I should gain a 
 proper footing in society ; — more particularly, 
 when utterly unsupported by any of my bus-
 
 DE LISLE. 227 
 
 band^s relations. I relinquished tha illusion 
 with tears, but without hesitation ; and sent my 
 unknown correspondent the following answer to 
 a letter of as many pages nearly as mine con- 
 tained words. 
 
 '' ^ Madame de Lausanne does not thank 
 Lady De Lisle for her communication, aware 
 that its object was not to benefit her. This is 
 merely to notify her intention of being guided 
 by it, in so far as withdrawing herself from a 
 country where her longer residence would in- 
 volve a whole family in dissension and discom- 
 fort. Lady De Lisle could not have been serious 
 in her offer of money to Therese de Lausanne, 
 knowing, as she well must, the munificent spirit 
 of her son. To that son, and not to his mother, 
 application would be made, if necessary • it is 
 not so, — and Madame de Lausanne would only 
 suggest the precaution to Lady De Lisle, of not 
 incurring needless indignation from Mr. De 
 Lisle, by alluding to a separation, which he need 
 never know was effected by her means.' 
 
 "In thus seeming to spare the feelings of a 
 lady, who could be nothing to me, I was, in fact, 
 only guarding her son from additional vexation.
 
 228 DE LISLE. 
 
 He was of the age to be jealous of all controul, 
 particularly maternal controul. I knew that, in 
 the first transports of his ire, a serious quarrel 
 must take place between him and Lady De Lisle, 
 for having so effectually interfered in his plans. 
 I did not wish to leave a firebrand behind me, 
 and disunite his family nearly as much by my 
 departure as by my marriage. That departure 
 was indispensable ; for, just then I was av/are 
 he would have braved the anger of every living 
 creature to make me unalterably his. I have 
 an antipathy to scenes of every sort : I saw 
 they would be endless. His love, once so joyous 
 and tender, would necessarily become gloomy 
 and irritable. He would be unhappy and un- 
 reasonable ; and I should have the less patience 
 with him, from being myself free from the pas- 
 sion that overpowered him. 
 
 " ' I will go at once/ thought I ; ' the pang 
 may be sudden and severe to him, but it is not 
 a mind like his that can continue to cling to an 
 unworthy object. My apparent treachery will 
 free him at once, and will steel against the pas- 
 sion in future a heart well nigh as sensitive as 
 it is proud.* When I remembered how unpre- 
 pared he was for such a blow, I could have wept ; 
 but what availed it, I knew not how to soften it ?
 
 DE LISLE. 229 
 
 " The day before my departure, a friend of 
 Mr. De Lisle's called upon me. I was occupied 
 and dull, and had given orders to admit no one ; 
 but as I caught a glimpse of Lionel Seymour 
 crossing the street, I rang to desire he might be 
 admitted. It was not, assuredly, for his own sake 
 that I gave the direction ; for, if ever I feared 
 a living being, that being was the cold, upright, 
 and severe Seymour. I knew that he yielded to 
 his friend's wish of cultivating my acquaintance, 
 solely with a view of detaching him from me if 
 possible ; that there was nothing he would not 
 do to prevent his marrying me ; and, in short, 
 that no man I had ever been the least willing to 
 please, had ever beheld me with so little emo- 
 tion. I well knew that, compared to mine, his 
 influence with Hubert was as nothing ; but if he 
 failed to restrain his friend, he was not the less 
 a decided check on me. I felt always before 
 him as if in the presence of a judge, and that 
 no favourable one. I sometimes durst not 
 finish my phrase, fearful of the construction he 
 might put upon it. I shrank even from the af- 
 fectionate looks or words of my lover, when Lio- 
 nePs steady glance turned compassionately upon 
 him, or scornfully upon me : I sought to conci- 
 liate him ; it would not be. I seemed always
 
 230 DE LISLE. 
 
 to come in contact with a wall of cold iron. I 
 sought to anger him — it was equally impossible. 
 He smiled, with his unalterable look of calm in- 
 dulgence, and seemed quite ready to make al- 
 lowances for my just dislike of his intractable 
 temper. 
 
 " Once determined to leave England, I was 
 able and willing to cast off all the prejudices I 
 might have acquired in it. I saw no longer in 
 Seymour my own enemy, but the friend and 
 consoler of De Lisle. I thought he would an- 
 nounce the step I was about to take in the gen- 
 tlest possible manner. For a moment, I hesi- 
 tated whether to show him the letter which had 
 decided my fate. I should have liked to excite 
 in the breast of Seymour some little feeling for 
 me, as well as for his friend. I might very 
 easily have said that I was unhappy, for it was 
 the truth ; I might have said I gave up De 
 Lisle for his own good, for that too was partly 
 the truth. In short, I had in my hands the 
 materials for a most affecting parting, and I 
 sliould have been pitied, almost admired, by one 
 capable of appreciating the merit of any sacri- 
 fice — of any thing generous and disinterested. 
 
 " I resisted the temptation, because I did 
 not quite understand Lionel's notions of duty
 
 DR LISLE. 231 
 
 and principle. In some things he was so gentle, 
 in some so stern ; placable about man's actions, 
 yet rigidly scrupulous about his motives ; which, 
 after all, are often obscure, even to the actor 
 himself. I never could be quite certain of what 
 he might do. He might have thought it but 
 justice to me to inform Hubert of my reason 
 for leaving him, and as surely as he had done 
 so, should I have seen him at my carriage-door 
 on alighting at Paris. This could have answer- 
 ed no purpose. I received Seymour, therefore, 
 as I was wont, apologised for the confusion of 
 my house, and gave its true reason, my sudden 
 departure with M. de le Sablonniere, with whom 
 I was very well acquainted, and who occupied 
 with his diplomatic commissions, and his own 
 perfections, was just the person to suit me at 
 that moment, by paying me no sort of attention. 
 This, however, I did not say to my visitor, who 
 naturally concluded the coxcomb had found 
 favour in my sight, and that for him I gave up 
 De Lisle. His dark eye kindled as I spoke ; 
 there was some indignation at my levity, but 
 more joy at his friend's escape. 
 
 " He made no comment, he asked no expla- 
 nation, he seemed anxious for nothing but to 
 see me off. He mentioned casually his own in-
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 tentioii of going to Oxford the following day 
 to see Hubert, who could now have no reason 
 for coming to town. This was what I wanted ; 
 but to say so would have sounded like affec- 
 tation in the ears of my visitor. I therefore 
 only bowed, and coldly observed, he would soon 
 be engrossed by the rejoicings for his birth- 
 day. 
 
 " ' I shall rejoice in truth,' said Seymour em- 
 phatically, ' but I am not so unreasonable as to 
 expect that of him just yet."* 
 
 " ' I doubt not,' replied I haughtily, ' that 
 you will soon teach him to be as well pleased 
 as yourself;' and thus ended an interview, the 
 only one Seymour ever had with me which 
 could be said to give him pleasure. 
 
 " At Paris I quitted my companion, and 
 wrote to my old friend the Intendant for a sup- 
 ply of money, he having in his hands more than 
 was wanted for my niece. He complied with 
 the request, which gave me more pleasure than 
 the rest of his letter. The lovely and attrac- 
 tive Leontine was dead — the widower was on 
 the eve of another engagement. By some ex- 
 pressions, I guessed that ambition dictated this 
 second marriage, for he dwelt on the advan-
 
 DE LISLE. 233 
 
 tages his family would derive from the new 
 connexion. 
 
 " These arrangements included not my niece. 
 * My eldest daughter,' wrote Charles, * is affi- 
 anced to my satisfaction ; my second has delicate 
 health, and will probably live much with her aunt, 
 who leads a quieter life than we propose doing. 
 My young ward, thus deprived of her compa- 
 nions, and not in a situation to be taken more 
 into public than is necessary, ought now to be 
 placed elsewhere. I will, if you desire it, seek 
 out for her some more retired situation, or you 
 yourself may possibly be living alone at present, 
 and desirous therefore of a gentle and cheer- 
 ful companion.' 
 
 " When I read this, I could not help feeling 
 how much of the disposition of man depends, 
 in the middling walk of life at least, upon their 
 wives. Had Leontine lived, never would Charles 
 have thought with pleasure of the dispersion of 
 his family ; never would he have proposed risk- 
 ing the morals, comfort, and respectability of 
 the child he had educated, by turning her over 
 to me. What to do with the poor girl I could 
 not guess. To send her to some stranger, at 
 the discretion of a person who was evidently
 
 234 DE LISLE. 
 
 willing to get rid of her himself, seemed savage; 
 I determined upon seeing Charles myself. It 
 was just possible that the married daughter 
 would admit beneath her roof, for the ordinary 
 stipend, the companion of her childhood. To 
 be sure, there was a husband to be consulted; 
 and he might be unaccommodating, or his wife 
 might be jealous. 
 
 " I could know nothing where I was, so I 
 set oiF without delay for the house of the In- 
 tendant. My arrival caused some surprise. 
 Charles received me alone, apologized for the 
 absence of his wife, who was paying visits ; the 
 carriage drove to the door shortly after, but the 
 lady did not think fit to make her appearance. 
 The Intendant seemed considerably embarrassed 
 between the sober manner that became a widow- 
 er, and the gay one that belonged to a bride- 
 groom. -His marriage, indeed, had altered him 
 much, or else his fortune, for he had grown a 
 rich man since I had seen him last. My niece 
 was walking, and he proposed our joining her, 
 or at least seeking her. I complied, and on our 
 way asked all the questions I thought necessary, 
 but Charles was either unable or unwilUng to 
 assist me. 
 
 " We soon encountered the children, as he
 
 DE LISLE. 235 
 
 called them, though the three girls that headed 
 the group would probably have denied their 
 claim to the epithet. Owing to a turn in the 
 road, they were visible to us before we were 
 ourselves perceived. A very cheerful voice 
 arose above the others, evidently reproaching 
 one of them with laziness. 
 
 " ' We have all performed our task,' it said, 
 ' and you alone, Leontine, are idle : come, 
 give us some verses ; you can remember plenty, 
 if you choose.' 
 
 " A low but clear tone now struck on our 
 ears, reciting the well-known canzonet begin- 
 ning — 
 
 Ecco quel fiero istante ; 
 Nice, mia Nice, addio. 
 Come vivro, ben mio, 
 Cosi lontan da te ? 
 
 lo vivro sempre in pene j 
 
 lo non avio piu bene j 
 E tu, chi sa se mai 
 Ti sovverrai di me ! 
 
 " I had pressed the arm of my companion 
 to arrest his progress, willing to listen to a re- 
 citation in itself beautiful, but which possessed 
 also a double charm to my ear, from the mourn- 
 ful tenderness of the voice, that seemed thus
 
 236 DE LISLE. 
 
 to appropriate to itself the sentiments of the 
 poet. It had scarcely concluded, when one of 
 the children detected us in our ambush. We 
 came forward, and Agnes was presented to me. 
 She was a fine girl, with eyes of the most se- 
 rene blue, and a pale cheek, that grew paler 
 as she heard my name. The animated coun- 
 tenance, too, of the bride elect underwent a 
 change resembhng sorrow, for they were aware 
 my appearance was the signal of separation. 
 
 " It was, however, the young Leontine who 
 most attracted my attention. I said something 
 in praise of her pronunciation of the Italian 
 and her feeling manner. She bowed at the be- 
 ginning of my compliment, and, blushing at the 
 end, averted her head in silence. She was like 
 her mother, though less peculiar in her air and 
 manner. The description of the English poet 
 was made for her : — 
 
 ' Her dark eye had misfortune's doubtful presage ; 
 It had that troubled melancholy loveliness — 
 'Twas like the fabled flower of woe, that lines 
 Of sorrow in its cup of beauty bears.' 
 
 " Her elder sister now approached me, with 
 an earnest request that I would not take Agnes 
 away till after her marriage, which was to take
 
 DE LISLE. 237 
 
 place in a few days. I was looking at Leon- 
 tine at the moment, and could not but be 
 struck at the alteration her features underwent. 
 As if aware of this, with a sudden and tre- 
 mulous motion she drew her veil over her 
 face to shade its ghastly hue, and leaned for a 
 moment against the trunk of a tree, near which 
 we stood. I readily complied with the request 
 made me, and received the thanks of the whole 
 party, for the sudden departure of Agnes had 
 revived the affection of the Intendant himself. 
 
 " We were met at the garden-gate b}'^ his 
 future son-in-law, a fine, manly-looking youth, 
 who greeted the whole party with frank cor- 
 diality. Leontine spoke to him as well as the 
 others, but she kept her veil carefully down ; 
 and it was surprising to me that no one marked 
 the forced gaiety of her manner. We came in ; 
 and while I was waiting for my carriage, I had 
 the opportunity of observing her still more nar- 
 rowly. Charles had left the room to order 
 some refreshment for me. Agnes was half 
 kneeling at a little table, and scribbling some- 
 thing with a pencil. The lovers were convers- 
 ing at an open window, turning their back to 
 the room and its inmates ; and Leontine, at 
 some distance, leaning against a stand of books.
 
 238 DE LISLE. 
 
 was regarding them as earnestly as the fasci- 
 nated gaze of superstition may be supposed 
 fixed on some preternatural appearance. I shall 
 never forget her countenance ; for despair is 
 dreadful on so young a face. 
 
 " As I got into my carriage, Agnes timidly 
 presented me with the note she had been writ- 
 ing. The lovers, it seems, were to remain ten 
 days in the Intendant's house, and then to re- 
 side for a year, at least, with the father and 
 mother of the bridegroom, on account of the 
 youth of the parties. These ten days Agnes 
 seemed anxious to spare Leontine, and had I 
 not guessed at the feelings of her young com- 
 panion, I should have comprehended but little 
 what the confused note of Agnes tended to. 
 As it was, I willingly followed the directions of 
 my niece. I proposed to the Intendant, that, 
 immediately after the marriage, my carriage 
 should convey Agnes and Leontine to the aunt 
 of the latter, who had expressed a wish to see 
 both the girls before Agnes quitted a family 
 she had nearly considered as her own. 
 
 " For myself, I took up my abode for a 
 month at some hot baths at no great distance, 
 and had leisure to think of what I was to do 
 with my niece. Economy was to be the order
 
 DE LISLE. 239 
 
 of the day, for I resolutely determined not to 
 expose Agnes to danger by mixing with my 
 former acquaintance. I would willingly have 
 placed her with some respectable person, as I well 
 knew the mere act of living with me, however 
 quietly, could not but prejudice others against 
 her ; but I could hear of no one who would 
 receive her ; so, having no alternative, I made 
 no complaints, but simply explained to Agnes 
 that we must be contented to live upon little. 
 
 " I sold my equipage and horses, dismissed 
 most of my servants, and laboured to keep 
 within the narrow income I could call mine ; 
 the greater part of which was, in fact, settled 
 on Agnes, and had accumulated under the ma.- 
 nagement of the Intendant. Accustomed to 
 profusion, and looking upon the sacrifice of 
 luxuries I had deemed necessaries, as a most 
 serious evil, my spirits did not rise with my 
 novel situation. My time, indeed, did not hang 
 upon my hands, for I not only assisted Agnes 
 in household work, at which she was mucli the 
 more expert of the two, but laboured to culti- 
 vate her talents, which had not been entirely 
 neglected by the late wife of the Intendant. 
 She was docile, attentive, and observed all the 
 ceremonial of respect ; but she was too young
 
 240 DE LISLE. 
 
 to disguise that she thought her relationship to 
 me a misfortune. Thus, at the moment that I 
 was denying myself every convenience and com- 
 fort that I could so easily have procured, mere- 
 ly that I might not risk injuring her, she was 
 regretting the chance that threw us together. 
 
 " It is thus that my unfortunate situation 
 deprives me of the advantages that would seem 
 my due : it is thus that the most amiable and 
 generous beings deny me the gratitude I de- 
 serve at their hands. I had not long to lead 
 this life of voluntary privation. Agnes an- 
 nounced to me with sparkling eyes — the first 
 time I had ever seen them sparkle — an invitation 
 from the aunt of Leontine. This woman was 
 a widow, possessed of considerable property, 
 who never having recovered the death of her 
 husband, had ever since led a life of seclusion. 
 
 " Alarmed now for the health of her niece^ 
 she determined on removing to a more cheerful 
 residence, and offered a home to Agnes, who 
 would, she doubted not, prove a useful and 
 welcome companion to the invalid. Our joy at 
 the prospect of parting was mutual, and we be- 
 came quite affectionate in consequence. As the 
 allowance I made Agnes diminished yet more 
 my small pittance, I could not continue even
 
 DE LISLE. S41 
 
 in the lowly mansion we inhabited together, 
 and gladly did I agree to make one in the ex- 
 travagant establishment of Baron Werner. 
 
 " This young man, rising early to follow the 
 chase, and spending the evening with his jovial 
 fellow-sportsmen, does not of course give me 
 much of his society ; hut of this 1 am not dis- 
 posed to complain. Caring himself little for 
 women, he likes to have it thought that he is a 
 particular favourite with them ; and next to his 
 pride at possessing the most ancient castle in 
 the south of Germany, and the finest dogs and 
 horses, is the satisfaction with which he talks 
 of having prevailed on the celebrated mistress 
 
 of the Prince of Z to share the country 
 
 life that it suits him to lead. For this seclu- 
 sion I have been handsomely rewarded by a 
 settlement, that, at the rate Werner lives, will 
 soon be the only ready money at his disposal. 
 
 " An incident in the domestic affairs of the 
 intendant, has most unluckily retarded the mo- 
 ment of Agnes's departure. I have been obliged 
 most reluctantly to bring her here, but it is un- 
 known to Werner, and she herself is altogether 
 ignorant of the terms on which T inhabit this 
 castle. Nevertheless, I suffer the most acute 
 anxiety on her account, which can only be to- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 DE LISLE. 
 
 tally removed when she is safely settled with her 
 old friends. 
 
 '* My unpleasant meditations have not been 
 enlivened by a most unexpected interview with 
 Hubert de Lisle — the only being, besides Agnes, 
 to whose weal or woe I cannot be indifferent — 
 the only one, without exception, who never 
 gave me pain voluntarily — the only one I ever 
 grieved — and, assuredly, the only one I should 
 shrink from seeing. 
 
 " I have hastily finished this narrative for his 
 perusal. It was begun merely ^o pass away 
 the time, and, having been intended for no hu- 
 man eye, is true as a confession to the Deity. 
 
 '' I expect two things will be gained by send- 
 ing this to Hubert. In the first place, should 
 any regret yet linger in his breast, he will 
 learn gratitude to Providence for having saved 
 him from a union so replete with misery and 
 mortification, as ours would have been to him. 
 It may increase his general distrust ; but it 
 ought not, for, in truth, it should but teach 
 him consistency. While he remembers that 
 the actions of men should fairly be taken as 
 the proof of their sentiments, he will not yield 
 to the romance of bestowing, on those whose 
 conduct is faulty, the pure and .noble feelings
 
 DE LISLE. 243 
 
 that actuate him. Still less should he suspect 
 those who have secured the approbation of the 
 world, of harbouring the thoughts to which 
 they would not give utterance. 
 
 " Nor is this all : — we have, I fear, always 
 a selfish motive clinging to the strongest and 
 ostensible one. While, with one hand, I sink 
 myself in your esteem by tearing the veil from 
 my past life, with the other I point to your 
 mother's letter, which will justify a measure 
 that, long ere you have read thus far, you 
 doubtless rejoice in ; a measure for which you 
 have both hated and despised me, and which 
 now you will see in its true light. 
 
 '' Alas ! that /should say and you should believe, 
 that I never showed you greater kindness than 
 when I fled from you ! Hubert ! I well know 
 you pardon my desertion ; but do you also par- 
 don me for having taught you to love, and de- 
 stroyed the bright enchantment almost in the 
 hour that formed it ? Alas ! you will trust 
 no one as you have trusted me — but do not say 
 it is my fault ! Adieu ! 
 
 " Therese de Lausanne." 
 
 M 2
 
 244? DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 De Lisle did not read through the nar- 
 rative of Madame de Lausanne without several 
 interruptions. It was written with far less 
 than her usual talent. It seemed as if reflec- 
 tions on the artificial character that her evil 
 destiny had forced on her, had for the moment 
 stupified her genius, palsied her energies, and 
 robbed her ahogether of that touching charm 
 produced by the union of high mental endow- 
 ment with a manner the most bland and cour- 
 teous, and a temper of feminine gentleness. 
 
 Those who have seen a noble warrior at the 
 head of his conquering army, in the moment of 
 splendour, and been one of the crowd to do him 
 homage ; and those who have beheld him only 
 when the glorious pageant had passed away, 
 and casting off the hero, he appeared among 
 them the froward, frivolous, and selfish man ;
 
 DE LISLE. 245 
 
 may guess at the various feelings with which 
 Hubert beheld the idol he had fondly worship- 
 ed, stripped of its gaudy trappings, and returned 
 not to a mere mortal only, but to one less ad- 
 mirable, and infinitely less pure, than hundreds 
 he had passed by in utter disregard. 
 
 It was true that these thoughts, while they 
 depressed him, could not be said to give him 
 any acute pain. Although the real disposition 
 of Therese was now for the first time unveiled 
 to him, he had long ceased to love her. He 
 had felt the passion with the earnestness and 
 devotion of his age : he had reaped from it 
 both pain and pleasure, and both v/ere now 
 sentenced to oblivion. There are many with 
 whom it is as the arrow shooting through the 
 air, that leaves no trace behind ; but Hubert, 
 of a calm and reflective cast, was not suscepti- 
 ble of very various and multiplied emotions. 
 
 Things found not an easy access to his heart 
 or imagination, and, once there, had difficulty 
 in relinquishing their conquests. Thus, in ceas- 
 ing to care for Madame de Lausanne, in choos- 
 ing to banish every thought connected with her, 
 he did not see that some associations were re- 
 tained, some feelings could not be obliterated, 
 although they eluded even his own observation.
 
 246 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 Nor were these favourable to any improvement 
 of his own disposition, that ripening reason 
 might have suggested. His affections had re- 
 ceived a chill they could not for some time re- 
 cover : but this was not all, the weeds of pre- 
 judice, mistrust, and suspicion, sprang up in 
 his young breast with baleful vigour. He had 
 the good feeling not to wound those who show- 
 ed him kindness, by giving utterance to these 
 sentiments ; the good taste to refrain even from 
 sporting them in mixed society : but the canker 
 was at the heart of the noble tree, and, though 
 the leaves looked fresh and lovely, decay was 
 within ; and its consciousness excited a feeling 
 of melancholy, not the less oppressive for being 
 undelinable. 
 
 There were things in the narrative relating 
 only to himself, that gave his pride a stab ; and 
 there were things of more general import, tend- 
 ing to lower the tone of moral feeling, which it 
 is natural for youth to place rather above than 
 below the standard of truth and experience. 
 That in every thought and word of Therese, 
 the hapless victim of cold-hearted and barba- 
 rous selfishness, the spirit of depreciation should 
 be apparent, was indeed but natural ; and one 
 who had been educated in a different school,
 
 DE LISLE. 247 
 
 would, in making every charitable allowance for 
 her sentiments, have readily detected where she 
 was wanting in equity to others. Not so De 
 Lisle. Her manuscript did but confirm the 
 impression made by previous circumstances on 
 his mind, that the world admitted but of two 
 distinct races, the deceived and their deceivers. 
 Intrigues and cabals among princes and cour- 
 tiers, were, he thought, better known to after- 
 times, who feel a curiosity in the destiny of the 
 great, often beyond what they deserve ; but the 
 same insincerity and finesse were daily employ- 
 ed by more unimportant persons, and on a nar- 
 rower stage. Even talents could save no one 
 from this common lot ; for Therese herself had 
 been not unfrequently cheated, deserted, de- 
 luded, and outwitted. 
 
 Jealous as he was of his independence, and 
 impatient of all management, he now found 
 that his conduct, so far from having been the 
 result of his own free will, had been what it 
 suited others to make it. Had not Major 
 Wilmotj a man he despised, marked him out 
 as a prey to his needy mistress ; and had not 
 she moulded him to what form she chose .f^ 
 Had not his mother separated him from the 
 person he had vowed to himself never to give
 
 248 DE LISLE. 
 
 up ? He had been a puppet, acted upon by 
 others — his feelings alone were his, and most 
 heartily was he ashamed of them. 
 , The lesson he learned from the past, was 
 neither wholesome nor salutary : in acquiring 
 greater coldness and greater caution, he neither 
 improved his judgment nor increased his hap- 
 piness. He felt some commiseration for The- 
 rese ; but there was nothing soothing to him- 
 self in his compassion. Her situation was un- 
 natural, the mere result of the vices of the 
 powerful ; her feelingSj therefore, could not 
 but be in some measure distorted and contra- 
 dictory, and could hardly meet with sympathy 
 from those who could but guess imperfectly 
 at the pleasures and the mortifications she had 
 to encounter. 
 
 " Every one,"*' thought Hubert, casting be- 
 hind him these irksome meditations, "•' has his 
 day of folly, — mine, I thank Heaven ! is over." 
 But while thus unadvisedly mingling Heaven 
 with his idle concerns, he sought not its in- 
 fluence ; and with the experience of how little 
 he could rely upon himself, he did not the less 
 determine to double that reliance for the future, 
 and to adopt no other safeguard than strength- 
 ening himself against all foreign interference.
 
 DE LISLE. 249 
 
 He did not travel rapidly, for there were 
 many things to see, and De lisle was not apt 
 to be in a hurry. At last, however, he joined 
 the Seymours, at the little town of Cette, where, 
 if the country could not well be called pretty, 
 it was at least curious to an English eye. 
 Vineyards spread over the high hills, but it 
 was early in the season, and Hubert thought 
 they had but a cold straggling effect, very 
 inferior to a common plantation. The cheer- 
 ful little bay, overlooked by the town, was a 
 gayer and more pleasing prospect ; and he was 
 half- tempted to sail round to Bordeaux, in their 
 immediate vicinity, before they left France ; but 
 war with the First Consul was talked of, and 
 Lionel did not wish to linger in the country any 
 longer. Accordingly, they proceeded to Fontera- 
 bia, and from thence more leisurely to Salvatiera. 
 
 If De Lisle was surprised at the unexpected 
 excellence of the roads, after the complaints 
 he had heard from travellers on the subject, 
 Henry was not less so at finding it utterly 
 impossible to make himself understood. He 
 spoke Spanish fluently, and had not been pre- 
 pared to meet, in a Spanish province, with a 
 language altogether aboriginal, and no more 
 like Spanish than it was like Latin or Eng- 
 
 M 5
 
 250 DE LISLE. 
 
 lish. Biscay is mountainous and barren, nor 
 did the occasional appearance of orange and 
 citron groves appear to them a very desirable 
 substitute for the forests they had thought fit 
 to expect. 
 
 The dress of the peasants was curious, and 
 that of the women extremely pretty — at least, 
 being handsome themselves, they looked well in 
 it. Salvatiera was within a league and a half 
 of the convent of Santa Maria, where Isabella 
 Seymour had taken the veil. Monasteries, both 
 in Spain and Portugal, are usually situated on 
 some commanding eminence, which gave occa- 
 sion to the observation made by a minister to 
 the Prince of Brazil, who complained of want- 
 ing engineers : " Your Royal Highness should 
 not forget your monks, the situations of whose 
 convents prove them to be the best engineers 
 in the world." 
 
 It was on a fine spring morning that the tra- 
 vellers mounted their mules, and proceeded to the 
 nunnery. The scenery was not new to Lionel, 
 who had conducted his sister thither a little 
 more than a year back ; and Henry, with all 
 the Protestant prejudices against convents, was 
 too much engrossed by melancholy ruminations 
 to attend to it. Hubert alone was amused by
 
 DE LISLE. S51 
 
 what he saw, and felt how far he was from 
 home, in a spot diftering so widely from an 
 English landscape. Vines, olives, orange trees, 
 long canes, with occasional aloes, and the de- 
 vil's fig, formed a most unaccustomed variety 
 to his eye. 
 
 The road wound round a hill ; and in their 
 continual descent they approached nearer to 
 a small but angry mountain torrent, that dashed 
 over rocks in the hollow, with a wild and tur- 
 bulent complaint, not very well calculated to 
 announce the peaceful solitude to which they 
 were journeying. They turned the projecting 
 angle of a rock, that diminished their already 
 narrow pathway, and beheld, a few yards from 
 them, a huge mass of building, surrounded by 
 high walls and tall cork trees. "Santa Ma- 
 ria!" exclaimed the guide, crossing himself; 
 and the travellers paused for a moment, ere 
 they ascended the precipitous path in the cliff, 
 that led up to the gates of the convent. 
 
 In this huge, ungraceful pile, strength was 
 the sole recommendation. Biscay is the only 
 country in Spain whose public buildings boast 
 no remains of Moorish grandeur or Roman 
 proportion. To judge from the appearance of 
 the nunnery, it might have been begun by the
 
 252 DE HSLE. 
 
 Cantabri, as a place of defence^ and had been 
 evidently finished by a more modern, but not 
 a less clumsy hand. 
 
 Henry looked up and sighed. — " If this," 
 said he, *' is so gloomy to us, who behold it for 
 the first time beneath an unclouded sky, and 
 need never behold it more, what must it be to 
 those unfortunates fated to gaze upon the un- 
 varying scene day after day, and see beyond 
 it nought but the grave!" 
 
 '' The sky here is always unclouded," re- 
 plied Lionel ; " and what would a more beauti- 
 ful situation avail those who could not see it 
 through their massive and impenetrable walls r" 
 
 Henry shuddered ; and De Lisle, in a conci- 
 liating tone, observed, "It was your sister's 
 own wish, and we cannot judge for others." 
 
 " But how," said Henry eagerly, '* is it 
 possible that it should continue to be her 
 wish!" 
 
 " Nay," said De Lisle, " I can as easily fan- 
 cy its continuance as its first existence." 
 
 " Which means," said Lionel, as a half smile 
 spread over his serious features, '''you can 
 fancy neither." 
 
 " Can i/OM.^" 
 
 The smile utterly vanished j and an expres-
 
 DE LISLE. 253 
 
 sion, such as Hubert had never before marked, 
 took its place, as he answered evasively, " I am 
 not a Catholic." 
 
 '' I could forgive your being a Catholic," 
 said Henry, with an effort at cheerfulness, " but 
 not your being a monk.*" 
 
 " And yet there have been good monks." 
 
 " But no happy ones, my brother." 
 
 " Ay, and happy ones too," replied Lionel, 
 with animation : " think but for a moment how 
 much better a good monk must be, than one 
 whom the world is content to call good ; and 
 who, by mixing in the world, and comparing 
 himself with the many who are worse than him- 
 self, loses ground even in his worldly virtue." 
 
 " Are there, then, two sorts of virtue ?" asked 
 Henry incredulousl3^. 
 
 " It is because there is but one^"" said his 
 brother, with his usual smile of serene bene- 
 volence, " that we should be the more disposed 
 to seek it, rather than to rest content, as we 
 like to do, with its mere reflection." 
 
 They were now at the convent gate, where 
 it seemed no easy matter to gain admittance. 
 At last the heavy bars and bolts were removed, 
 and they proceeded to the grate, where the Ab- 
 bess alone received them. She was a woman of
 
 254 DE LISLE. 
 
 noble birth, who never could have been hand- 
 some, even in her youth : she made up for the 
 absence of beauty, or its loss, by a grandeur of 
 manner little short of regal, and a tone of 
 haughtiness but ill suited to a cloister. Her 
 quick eye glanced from one of the travellers to 
 the other, with that perturbed and restless cu- 
 riosity natural to secluded persons, with whom 
 a stranger is an event : but in no other way did 
 she betray an interest inconsistent with her ex- 
 alted dignity ; and her words fell cold and mea- 
 sured on the ears of her visitors, almost as if 
 they had been uttered mechanically. 
 
 The Seymours asked if they might see their 
 sister. " You are impatient, young men,*" said 
 the Abbess ; " I have sent for her." 
 
 As she spoke, the door opened, and Isabella 
 entered, who, having made the accustomed salu- 
 tation to the Abbess, stood immovable, await- 
 ing her permission to speak to her brothers. It 
 was granted ; and giving her hand through the 
 grate to Lionel and Henry alternately, she ad- 
 dressed them both more cheerfully and more 
 affectionately than they expected, who were 
 themselves half frozen by the cold gravity of 
 the Superior. 
 
 " Is it not enough/** said Henry, in English,
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 255 
 
 and with unwonted bitterness, " that a fortifi- 
 cation is raised between me and my sister, but 
 may I not even see her face ?" 
 
 Isabella turned to the Abbess, and asked per- 
 mission to unveil. The Superior replied in the 
 accent of rebuke, " There is a stranger with 
 your brothers." 
 
 Hubert immediately proposed to withdraw, 
 at the same time insinuating that Isabella was 
 not unknown to him. The Abbess was pleased 
 with the respectful manner of De Lisle, and 
 gave the desired permission without excluding 
 him. 
 
 Miss Seymour was a very young girl, when 
 in his schoolboy days he had been accustomed 
 to see her at her father's house : she was now a 
 woman in the prime of life — a nun, banished 
 from her country, cut off from her kindred, se- 
 parated from the world ; a something neither 
 living nor dead, on which no one, least of all a 
 Protestant, could gaze with indifference. 
 
 In a ball-room, Miss Seymour might have 
 passed unregarded, surrounded by her younger, 
 handsomer, and more animated companions. It 
 was otherwise in the dress of the cloister, with 
 which her calm manner and tranquil counte- 
 nance seemed peculiarly to accord. It was in
 
 ^56 DE LISLE. 
 
 vain that De Lisle sought, in her face or form, 
 for traces of severe abstinence and penance, or 
 in her countenance for trouble of any kind. 
 Her figure was slender, but not attenuated ; and 
 the contour of her cheek was smooth and grace- 
 ful as before she entered on the monastic life. 
 Even Henry acknowledged -she was looking well, 
 and that her dress would have been becoming 
 but for its association. 
 
 Isabella smiled, and gently observed, that if 
 she had been married, and settled in some dis- 
 tant part of their own country, she would proba- 
 bly have seen as little of her brothers as she 
 could now do : and that they, on their parts, 
 engrossed with their professions, their wives, 
 and families, would have had brief leisure to 
 think of her, much less to visit her. Henry 
 was determined not to agree with her ; and even 
 when she reminded him how little they sought 
 out each other's society while residing beneath 
 the same roof, he still clung to regrets which 
 were in fact but the offspring of imagination. 
 
 Although the Superior understood a little 
 English, she did not speak it ; and, pleased with 
 the attention of De Lisle and Lionel, who al- 
 ways addressed Isabella in Spanish, she pro- 
 posed their not returning to the town that night..
 
 DE LISLE. 257 
 
 In the outward court was a separate building 
 for the use of strangers ; and Father Francis, who 
 resided there, was summoned to receive the Eng- 
 lishmen. 
 
 The call to prayers was now heard ; and the 
 Abbess, excusing the attendance of Isabella with 
 more graciousness than her manner promised, 
 told Hubert he had better fill up the time that 
 would intervene before she could again appear 
 in the parlour, by visiting a very curious grotto 
 at no great distance, to which he should have a 
 guide. She proceeded to describe it very ac- 
 curately, though she observed it was nearly 
 forty years since she had seen it. De Lisle 
 made some complimentary observation on the 
 strength of her memory. 
 
 " It is not wonderful," replied the aged nun ; 
 " I have seen nothino; since.'' Henrv^s warm 
 imagination kindled, and he could almost have 
 fancied an interesting victim in the person of 
 this unprepossessing little old woman.
 
 258 DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 When De Lisle returned from his ramble, 
 he found the quartette engaged in tranquil con- 
 versation ; the Abbess was less constrained, 
 Lionel less sad, and even the agitation of Henry 
 had subsided. The faint colour that emotion 
 had lent to the cheek of the English nun, had 
 also faded; and her features had a deathlike 
 stillness, more appalling than melancholy. Yet, 
 beside the Superior, her tone and manner were 
 animated; and as she asked about some English 
 friends and neighbours, it seemed at least as if 
 she had not forgotten that a world lay beyond 
 the convent walls, though in its concerns she 
 took but a feeble interest. 
 
 The hour of collation was arrived, and it was 
 served up in the room in which they sat. 
 " Bring hither your prisoner,'*' said the Abbess 
 to Isabella; and Henry started, as the recol-
 
 DE LISLE. 259 
 
 lection of stories about incarcerated nuns arose 
 in his mind. 
 
 " Holy Mother,"*' replied Isabella, " silence 
 and tears are the food of this unfortunate ; yet, 
 if it is your will, I go to summon her to partake 
 of our repast.*' 
 
 *' Go, my child," was the laconic reply of the 
 Superior ; who turned again to De Lisle, to, in- 
 quire farther into the changes time had wrought 
 in the grotto he had visited. 
 
 In a few minutes Isabella returned, leading 
 in, not a veiled nun, but a young woman in a 
 splendid Spanish dress, glittering in jewels, and, 
 from the anguish of her countenance, looking 
 like the queen of woe. At sight of the stran- 
 gers, she cast over her head a magnificent veil, 
 edged with silver, that had hung on her arm, 
 and now nearly concealed her whole figure, fall- 
 ing in ample folds almost to her feet. 
 
 " To-morrow," said the Abbess, ** is a great 
 day with us ; it has pleased the most holy 
 bishop of this diocese to fix that day to visit 
 his servants and children of Santa Maria, and 
 to confer on Donna Theodora Noverro the 
 white veil. She will then enter on her novi- 
 ciate, and doubtless will cease to regret the 
 vanities of a perishable world."
 
 260 DE LISLE. 
 
 The unfortunate prisoner answered not, ex- 
 cept by a low moan and a motion of her hand, 
 expressing dissent. Isabella stood beside her, 
 and, in the most soothing accent, endeavoured 
 to prevail upon her to drink a glass of wine the 
 Abbess had poured out for her. She took it in 
 her trembling hand and put it to her lips, but, 
 unable to swallow it., replaced in on the board. 
 
 " Donna Theodora," said the Abbess, in her 
 cold, slow way, that at such a moment seemed 
 almost inhuman, " you have my permission to 
 retire to the cell you quitted, or to walk in the 
 garden with any of our elder sisters." 
 
 Another inarticulate sound escaped the lips 
 of Theodora ; but it was only from her rising 
 instantly, that her intention of departure could 
 be gathered. For a moment, she clung for sup- 
 port to the grating, and as she bent her head 
 against it, her low suppressed sobs were more 
 audible to the Englishmen. Lionel with diffi- 
 culty could restrain his brother from addressing 
 her, and swearing, in the presence of the Abbess, 
 to release her at all risks. 
 
 They were shortly afterwards dismissed, no 
 one having ventured to ask a question relative 
 to the young sufferer, fearful of embittering a 
 situation, the horror of which they could not aL
 
 DE LISLE. 261 
 
 leviate. The discourse of Father Francis did 
 not tend to banish her from th^ir thoughts, as 
 it turned chiefly on the miracles wrought by 
 their patroness, " Mary the most pure,'' as she 
 was called by those who maintained the doctrine 
 that the.Blessed Virgin had been m. ^aculously ex- 
 empted, at her birth, from all taint ot original sin. 
 
 To such histories De Lisle hearkened with a 
 suppressed smile of contempt, and Henry with 
 scarce suppressed indignation ; while Lionel, 
 with his usual benevolent forbearance, listened 
 respectfully, and neither opposing nor agree- 
 ing, sought to turn the conversation to some- 
 thing all might understand and approve. This 
 fortunate subject was at last discovered in the 
 person of a lad who waited on them. He was 
 born deaf and dumb, yet withal so intelligent, 
 and to all appearance so cheerfid, that it scarcely 
 seemed an evil. Stories of his extreme quick- 
 ness of perception, and the retentiveness of 
 his memory, were found agreeable substitutes 
 for the legendary tales which the good father 
 had poured into the exhausted ears of the 
 strangers ; and they, in consequence, parted for 
 the night more amicably than at one time 
 Lionel expected them to do. 
 
 They repaired to the dormitory, where the
 
 262 DE LISLE. 
 
 Seymours soon sunk in repose ; but De Lisle, 
 who was stronger than either of his companions, 
 and accordingly less fatigued, lay ruminating 
 on nuns and convents, and was awake enough 
 to feel distinctly a cold hand pass over his face. 
 Before he ha^ time to do more than grasp some- 
 thing at his bed-side, a dark -lantern was sud- 
 denly turned, and by its dim light he beheld 
 the deaf and dumb lad, apparently amused at 
 the alarm he had excited, but with no malevolent 
 expression in his bright black eye. He made 
 a sign of silence, pointed to the beds of the 
 Seymours, and flared the light above their eyes. 
 Satisfied that they slept, he again approached 
 Hubert, put the light on the bed, and produced 
 an unsealed letter, which he motioned him to 
 read. Wondering where this would end, De 
 Lisle took the letter, and read rapidly. 
 
 '' I dare not apply to my brothers, in a case 
 I have much at heart, for, should suspicion light 
 on them, I could never more hope to behold 
 them. To you, then, who have no interest in 
 any one here — to you, who will probably never 
 again bend your steps to Santa-Maria, I turn 
 to implore your succour : — as a man, you cannot 
 refuse it to a persecuted woman — as a Protes-
 
 DE LISLE. 263 
 
 tant, you cannot refuse it to one who dreads a 
 
 cloister's rigour — neither, if you have ever loved, 
 
 can you refuse it to one who loves but too well. 
 
 You may think this address strange from a 
 
 nun ; but I, who never loved in the world, may 
 
 be permitted to mention within /lese sacred 
 
 walls a word that at no time caused in me any 
 
 emotion. My charge. Donna Theodora, will 
 
 to-morrow take the white veil; she will then 
 
 have a cell of her own, in which she will not be 
 
 confined. Delay your departure, on pretence 
 
 of seeing the ceremony ; write to Carlos Mon- 
 
 temar her lover, and desire him to repair hither 
 
 with speed. Direct your letter to Burgos : he 
 
 lingers there, because in its neighbourhood is a 
 
 convent for noble women, where he expects this 
 
 nfortunate will be confined ; bid him prepare 
 
 a suit of male attire — Theodora, in that dress, 
 
 may mingle with the domestics of the bishop, 
 
 and elude the vigilance of her keepers; fear 
 
 not to trust to the deaf and dumb lad- My 
 
 letter may be taken from him, and never reach 
 
 you ; in which case I alone shall be punished ; 
 
 once read, be careful to destroy it, lest you share 
 
 my danger ; — the boy will not betray you.' 
 
 ") 1^ 
 
 This epistle was not very easily deciphered ;
 
 264 DE LISLE. 
 
 for, though written on good paper, the other 
 materials were not very well adapted to the 
 purpose — a wooden skewer, that occasionally 
 made two strokes where the writer had intended 
 one, had been the pen, dipped in some scarlet 
 liquid, une(Jual both in colour and consistence. 
 At first, De Lisle thought of writing an answer 
 to Isabella ; but judging this might be impru- 
 dent, he took off from his watch-chain a small 
 seal, the motto of which, " Leggi, crede, e 
 tace,''* she could not but remember, her father 
 having given it to him many years back, and 
 expressed by signs to the lad, that it was to be 
 delivered to her. 
 
 His intelligent companion watched his mo- 
 tions with anxiety, and seemed desirous that 
 Isabella's letter should be destroyed. Hubert 
 tore it ; but the lad, not satisfied with the pre- 
 caution, gathered up the scattered pieces, and 
 deliberately swallowed them. He then closed 
 his lantern, and with noiseless tread stole out 
 of the apartment. Early the next morning, 
 De Lisle sent off for Carlos Montemar, the 
 Seymours haying conceded to his wish of wit- 
 nessing that day'*s ceremony. Henry was, in 
 truth, curious to behold it, and willing again to 
 see, and if possible serve, its hapless object.
 
 DE LISLE. ^65 
 
 Lionel opposed not his wish to theirs ; but his 
 heart shrank within him, at the thought of 
 Theodora's sufferings. He knew that his arm 
 was powerless in her defence, and he could not 
 contemplate, willingly, pangs he was impotent to 
 assuage. Meanwhile, De Lisle, half smiling at 
 his quixotic adventure, half doubtful of its 
 issue, was careful to avoid Isabella as much as 
 possible, and confine his conversation solely to 
 the Abbess, or Father Francis. 
 
 There was something in the conduct of Miss 
 Seymour calculated to win his applause, more 
 than that of many less reflecting men. She was 
 not a wretched nun, eager to save another from 
 sorrows like her own — she was not one, who, re- 
 membering she had loved, sighed over the vic- 
 tim of passion, and in a fit of enthusiasm 
 devoted herself to her cause. No ! she was a 
 calm, perhaps even a cold woman, who had 
 chosen the cloister and wished not to leave it ; 
 who doubtless thought the feelings of Theodora 
 as exaggerated as they were weak ; but the in- 
 tended novice was in need of her assistance, 
 and Isabella would have thought it inhuman to 
 withhold it. It was at great personal risk ; but 
 true heroism is simple, and the nun saw her dan- 
 ger, without shrinking from it, or assuming any 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 ^66 DE LISLE. 
 
 merit for daring it. She ventured boldlj to 
 the precipice, strong in Christian charity; for 
 slie did not love the being for whose sake she 
 exposed herself to unknown punishments, that 
 could scarcely fall short of perpetual imprison- 
 ment or death. 
 
 " What a pity," thought Hubert, " that such 
 a noble, calm, rational being should be lost to the 
 world ! While her parents lived, her home was 
 comfortless; but her brothers remained, who 
 would all have been kind to her." He remem- 
 bered, indeed, that Isabella was not popular ; he 
 knew how strict she had been in her religious no- 
 tions, and that, with the example before her eyes 
 (the infelicitous union of her parents,) she had 
 declined entering into any Protestant family. He 
 thought of the neglected education of most of 
 the English Catholics, among whom the elegant 
 and accomplished Miss Seymour was little likely 
 to make a choice worthy of her ; and he sighed 
 to think that a convent was perhaps, after all, 
 her best resource. 
 
 " And can it be," thought he, continuing his 
 mental soliloquy, " that religion can thus sever 
 the kindly charities of life, and that any rea- 
 sonable being can behold this breathing tomb, 
 with feelings of comfort and veneration ? After
 
 DE LISLE. S67 
 
 all, most things in this sublunary world are but 
 what we think them ; and where we know that 
 we are not happy, it must be pleasant, at least, 
 to believe that we are good." 
 
 Hubert did not perceive that his own syst;em 
 was nearly as anti-social. The nun does but 
 withdraw herself from the frequent opportuni- 
 ties of showing kindness and benevolence ; while 
 those who remain in a world from which they 
 stand apart, wound by their neglect those 
 who claim the common sympathies of our 
 nature. 
 
 The Bishop and bis train arrived about mid- 
 day. Donna Theodora was unknown to the ec- 
 clesiastic, and after a conversation of some length 
 with her, he joined the persons assembled in the 
 parlour, and addressing himself to Lionel, po- 
 litely regretted his inability to sanction the per- 
 mission they had received, of seeing her take 
 the white veil. 
 
 " Before you quit Spain," he continued, 
 " such a ceremony will in all probability 
 occur again, at which you may be present, 
 without any objection arising ; but, in this in- 
 stance, I should not feel justified in admitting 
 strangers : however, that you may understand 
 fully my desire to gratify all harmless curiosity, 
 
 N 2 
 
 \
 
 268 DE LISLE. 
 
 I will (subject to the good pleasure of the Su- 
 perior) allow of your passing this grating im- 
 mediately after the ceremony is concluded, and 
 viewing the chapel-garden, and such parts of 
 the convent, as have been shown in past times 
 to illustrious visitors."" 
 
 Lionel bowed in silence, and immediately 
 withdrew, followed by his companions. 
 
 *' What say ye .f^" he asked ; " shall we accept 
 of the amende honorable made us by the priest, 
 or shall we mount our mules and return to Sal- 
 vatiera, so saving Isabella the pain of parting ?" 
 
 It was evident which the speaker judged best 
 to do, by the conclusion of his phrase ; but 
 Henry, who thought so abrupt a departure 
 might seem unkind to his sister, was not dis- 
 posed to go, luckily for Hubert, who could 
 hardly have hit on an expedient for de- 
 taining the brothers, had they been both in- 
 clined to depart. As they continued to wander 
 about the environs of the monastery, De Lisle 
 frequently turned a scrutinizing glance towards 
 the road, on which he every moment expected 
 to see Carlos Montemar appear. The sun was 
 already declining towards the west, and flinging 
 long slanting shadows on the hills, and yet he 
 came not.
 
 DE LISLE. 269 
 
 " Donna Theodora," said Hubert to himself, 
 '^will take the veil, out of pique at having so 
 dilatory a lover." 
 
 But the words had scarcely presented them- 
 selves to his mind, when a horseman, as impetu- 
 ous as his utmost impatience could desire, 
 turned round the angular rock that concealed 
 the convent from the eye of the traveller, and 
 spurring his noble courser up the steep ascent, 
 looked very much as if he would also scale 
 the proud walls before him. Hubert, who had 
 forgotten to caution him against mentioning his 
 name, no sooner beheld him, than he rushed 
 down the hill to arrest his progress, much to 
 the astonishment of the Seymours, who conti- 
 nued to gaze at him, and at one another, till 
 Henry gave way to an uncontrolled burst of 
 laughter, and even the serious features of Lionel 
 were for a moment relaxed. 
 
 " I think," observed the latter, " I never 
 saw De Lisle in a hurry before ; he is, doubt- 
 less, greeting with pleasure some intimate ac- 
 quaintance : but what a quick eye he must have 
 to know a friend from a foe at this dis- 
 tance r 
 
 " And only think," cried Henry, " of never 
 mentioning this dear friend — he must be very
 
 270 DE LISLE. 
 
 much ashamed of him. Let us go and see what 
 he is like ;" and the brothers slowly turned 
 down the path their companion had bounded 
 across with such unwonted swiftness. 
 
 They soon joined De Lisle, but no introduc- 
 tion to the stranger ensued; and Lionel, judg- 
 ing from so discouraging an omission, that their 
 presence might be a restraint, soon took another 
 direction from the one Hubert and his compa- 
 nion were silently pursuing. Montemar had 
 brought with him the dress of a servant, as one 
 least liable to observation ; but how to convey 
 it to Theodora was the difficulty. 
 
 While the matter was yet in discussion, an 
 uncouth noise close beside them made them 
 start ; and turning round, they beheld the deaf 
 and dumb lad crouched in the thicket, which 
 overhung and concealed him so much, that at 
 first glance a bright black eye was alone dis- 
 cernible peeping through the surrounding fd- 
 liage. He made a rapid sign to Hubert, and 
 shrank back amid the underwood. They con- 
 cluded that the presence of an unknown person 
 was a restraint upon his communication, and 
 Montemar immediately walked on out of sight. 
 The boy now sprang up, and, satisfying himself 
 that no one was near, presented a slip of paper.
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 271 
 
 on which Isabella had pricked with a pin the 
 
 following words : — 
 
 " Give the clothes to the baarer ; ask leave 
 to be followed in your visit to the chapel-garden 
 by a favourite boy who never quits you." 
 
 Hubert hastened to comply with the former 
 part of the direction ; but his trusty messenger 
 shook his head at the size of the bundle. He 
 opened it, and, taking out every thing he thought 
 could be dispensed with, put the other things 
 on himself, covering them carefully with his own 
 ordinary apparel. Hubert, after recommend- 
 ing Mont^mar to be in readiness with the horses 
 at an appointed spot, sought out the Seymours, 
 and merely requested of them to show no sur- 
 prise, and make no comments on what he might 
 do or say for the rest of that day, as on the 
 following all should be explained to them. Hen- 
 ry promised compliance, though he confessed 
 his curiosity ; but Lionel earnestly intreated 
 of him to embark in no convent intrigue, in 
 a country where ijt might not be so easy to 
 escape the eye of the InquJKition. 
 
 " Fear not," replied Hubert, concealing his 
 own apprehension under forced merriment ;
 
 272 DE LISLE. 
 
 " I am nowise disposed to run away with the 
 Lady Abbess, and your sister is as httle dis- 
 posed to run away with me ; so having seen no 
 other nun, I cannot be accused of any such sa- 
 crilegious design." 
 
 " Donna Theodora !" said Lionel anxiously. 
 
 " Is not a nun yet, perhaps not even a 
 novice," eagerly replied his friend ; " and, at 
 any rate, we are getting beyond the bounds 
 prescribed." 
 
 Lionel knew it would be vain to press him 
 any farther : he was silenced, but not satisfied ; 
 and regretted the facility with which he had 
 given up his own wish of an earlier departure. 
 
 They were now summoned to the grate, 
 where several of the elder nuns appeared beside 
 the Abbess, to catch a few words of courtesy and 
 benediction from the Bishop, who, in their eyes, 
 seemed scarce inferior to the Deitv. The 
 Bishop, who was a man of the world, appeared 
 quite as alive to the absurdity of their questions 
 and compliments as the Englishmen could be ; 
 but his national gravity and acquired forbear- 
 ance, enabled him to play his part in the ridi- 
 culous scene, with a dignity that checked the 
 smile lurking in the eyes of the strangers. 
 
 As soon as the order was given for the nuns 
 to retire and the visitors to be admitted, Hu-
 
 DE LISLE. 273 
 
 bert looked for some sign from Isabella, who 
 would, lie thought, fix the proper moment for 
 his request relative to the admission of a 
 fourth ; but she had withdrawn, and he pro- 
 ceeded to the great gate of the convent, — which 
 the Bishop himself opened, — wondering what 
 could be done, if the ecclesiastic was gracious 
 enough to await there the return of a person 
 who would be nowhere to be found. From 
 this embarrassment he was saved by the polite 
 but decided negative given to his request. 
 
 *' You are aware, gentlemen," said the Bishop, 
 that I am already partly exceeding my power 
 -^^n attendant I cannot admit." 
 
 Hubert apologised for the request on the plea 
 of ignorance, and the party were shown into the 
 cliapel, which was much prettier than the out- 
 side of the building promised,— and the garden, 
 which was almost gay. There, to his surprise, 
 Hubert found the deaf and dumb lad at work. 
 
 " The sisters, in general," observed their coi> 
 ductor, '' cultivate this garden, and rear with 
 indefatigable pains these beautiful flowers ; but 
 some of them are now feeble with age, and re- 
 quire assistance. Father Francis grants them 
 the indulgence occasionally of this boy's labour, 
 who is in fact fit for little else." 
 
 Hubert at this moment stood close to the 
 
 N 5
 
 274 DE LISLE. 
 
 active young gardener, who had not seemed to 
 observe their approach; but now looked up with 
 an expression of countenance so full of drollery 
 and mischief, that it struck Hubert as utterly 
 impossible that he had not heard the comment 
 passed upon himself. The glance was rapid, 
 and the labour had never been interrupted, so 
 that no one else remarked it. In their way back 
 they were met in the chapel by Isabella. 
 
 " Our good mother,"" she said, " has sent me 
 to give her parting blessing to the strangers : 
 being fatigued with this day's ceremony, she has 
 retired to her cell ; but hopes you will visit her 
 and accept of what poor refreshment our house 
 affords." 
 
 " Doubtless, my child,'' replied the digni- 
 tary, " but first suffer me to reconduct the 
 strangers." 
 
 *•' My brothers may not thus dissipate a time 
 so precious," said Isabella respectfully. " Our 
 portress is sick, and I am. this day her substitute ; 
 suffer me to bar the gates on our visitors, lest, if 
 you linger longer, night close on you ere you 
 reach the even road. Heavily would it fall on 
 the poor nuns of Santa Maria, did any accident 
 befall on his way their benign and gracious 
 diocesan !"
 
 DE LISLE. 275 
 
 The Bishop smiled at the gentle earnestness of 
 the nun ; but Isabella, whether in the world or 
 the cloister, was not a person to be disregarded. 
 Cold and formal as she usually appeared, she 
 had the power of fascinating when she chose to 
 exert it ; but, careless of popularity, she seldom 
 thought it worth while to affect greater anima- 
 tion or interest than she really felt. In this 
 case, she was anxious to get the Bishop out of 
 her way — it was necessary to soothe, flatter, 
 and cajole him to effect this ; and, to the sur- 
 prise of Hubert, the calm, simple, noble-minded 
 nun now played the part of a dexterous, artful 
 woman, with a grace and facility of which, 
 from her immovable countenance and un- 
 bending manner, he had judged her utterly 
 incapable. 
 
 " These high walls," thought he, " these 
 dreary cells, these eternal prayers, fastings, and 
 vigils, are all powerless on female tempers ; and 
 woman, find her where you will, is still a ma- 
 noDuvrer !" 
 
 The cause might have sanctified the deed 
 with a more candid spirit; but De Lisle was 
 at that moment behind the scenes, and he could 
 not see the hidden springs, and the whole ma- 
 chinery at work, without bestowing on it a smile
 
 276 DE LISLE. 
 
 of contempt. Success crowned the plan of the 
 recluse. The Bishop bestowed his benison on 
 the travellers, and left them for the promised 
 collation in the apartment of the Abbess. Isa- 
 bella went to a recess, in which stood the figure 
 of a saint ; and from behind it, trembling with 
 terror and agitation, issued a delicate-looking 
 youth, whom she took by the hand, and led up 
 to De Lisle. 
 
 " Your boy," she said hastily ; " be swift and 
 cautious !" Then, seizing a hand of each of her 
 brothers, she hurried them through a dark 
 passage, which led to a postern, which speedily 
 unbarring, she let them out. 
 
 " The other gates," she said, " have been un- 
 closed, on account of the Bishop's visit ; go 
 straight through the court, and you will soon be 
 beyond the convent walls. God bless you ! my 
 brothers ; this is no time for long farewells, but 
 write to me, inclosed to the Abbess. I am-in 
 favour, and if your letter be circumspect, I 
 shall see it ; follow your companion ! Nay, tarry 
 not, for much hangs on your speed." 
 
 Isabella stood at the little gate, till they had 
 gained the extremity of the court ; then making 
 them another signal for despatch, her light figure 
 glided away, and seemed to confound itself with
 
 DE LISLE. 277 
 
 the increasing gloom. The Englishmen hur- 
 ried on in silence, mounted their mules, all but 
 De Lisle, who, placing Theodora on his beast, 
 led it carefully on to the first turning in the 
 road. 
 
 Here he quitted his companions, but promised 
 to overtake them shortly ; and was as good as 
 his word, for in less than a quarter of an hour 
 he joined them ; and they then continued their 
 journey at a rate that soon brought them to the 
 entrance of Salvatiera. He there related the 
 whole of his adventure to the Seymours, who 
 rejoiced at the escape of the novice, — for Monte- 
 mar was found at the place appointed, and 
 would, ere morning dawned, have passed the^ 
 frontiers with his fair charge, — wondered at the 
 courage of their sister, and expressed some an- 
 xiety to know the result. This, however, did 
 not seem probable for the present ; and Lionel, 
 who always saw a possibility of their being im- 
 plicated in the transaction, recommended their 
 starting early on the following morning, which 
 was accordingly agreed to and executed. 

 
 278 DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Henry Seymour, though never a very strong 
 man, had now acquired a tone of health and 
 spirits, that fully enabled him to mix with the 
 world, and endure the fatigue of travelling in a 
 country where bad roads and worse accommo- 
 dation made it often a trial of strength. Lio- 
 nel, who watched over the tender plant his an- 
 xious care had saved from perishing, with that 
 sort of calm, consistent benignity with which we 
 may fancy a higher order of spirits looking down 
 on man, beheld with delight the beneficial results 
 of the system he had adopted for his brother. 
 By cherishing his affections, exciting his interest 
 and curiosity, and affording him the means of 
 various occupation, he had done more for his 
 happiness than climate or medical skill had 
 done for his health, wonderfully as that seemed 
 established. He had gained too a heart with
 
 DE LISLE. 279 
 
 all its untried and powerful tenderness, a spirit 
 long blighted and depressed, inly mourning its 
 own feebleness and coldness, but now exulting 
 in new-born vigour, turning with romantic 
 fondness and confiding gratitude to the power 
 that roused it into being, as the gladdened 
 flower looks to the sun to which it owes its 
 beauty and its fragrance. 
 
 To De Lisle the improvement in the younger 
 Seymour was absolutely marvellous. He attri- 
 buted it almost solely to his restored health. 
 He knew how much the mind is influenced by 
 the body, and he forgot that the influence is 
 mutual. If he did not give Lionel the credit 
 he deserved, it was because such power appear-^ 
 ed to him impossible, not because he doubted 
 his friend's qualities of head and heart. There 
 was, indeed, a harmony in the thoughts, words, 
 and actions of Lionel, the beauty of which 
 could not pass unobserved by a person of Hu- 
 bert's good taste. Other men — good and clever 
 men too — often spoke by chance and acted 
 from impulse ; but in Lionel there seemed a 
 perfect whole, to which every trifle contributed, 
 and from which nothing could be retrenched 
 without leaving him incomplete. 
 
 He was one of those rare mortals who pass
 
 S80 DE LISLE. 
 
 now and then through a dark and infidel world 
 as an earnest of immortality, leaving behind 
 them, long after they themselves have been 
 called hence, a luminous track by which in- 
 ferior spirits may be guided and sustained. 
 Though De Lisle was not free from pride, or 
 even utterly exempt from vanity, he was inca- 
 pable of the littleness that shrinks from asso- 
 ciating with those who surpassed him. He 
 knew and felt the superiority of Lionel ; he 
 had not the courageous humility to study the 
 excellence he admired for the purpose of imi^ 
 tation, but every fresh proof of it gave him 
 fresh pleasure. He loved him, for it was but 
 just such a man should be loved: he loved him, 
 because he vindicated human nature by his own 
 lofty example: he loved him, in short, for a 
 less noble, but hardly less powerful reason, be- 
 cause he knew that Lionel was not indifferent 
 to him, — and equally proud did he feel of his 
 esteem, and grateful for his regard. 
 
 Although Henry concluded that all who 
 knew his brother must delight in him, and there- 
 fore was not disposed to be obliged to any one 
 for a sentiment so involuntary, his regard for 
 De Lisle was doubtless much increased by see- 
 ing how fully the latter appreciated a character
 
 DE LISLE. 281 
 
 SO far above the common standard. These 
 young men, besides, had many pursuits in com- 
 mon : they loved music and poetry and beau- 
 tiful scenery — they viewed together the remains 
 of Moorish grandeur and taste, till they half 
 regretted the Saracen invader — they beheld a 
 weak government, a profligate court, an ignorant 
 nobility, and a proud, pampered, and arrogant 
 priesthood — they admired, complained, exe- 
 crated, and scorned in concert. They turned 
 to Lionel, listened with pleasure and admira- 
 tion to his more tempered and judicious re- 
 marks, yet never failed to renew their own as 
 the inducement arose. 
 
 They spent the whole summer in Spain, for 
 the intense heats were unpleasant to travel in, ' 
 and they had nothing to carry them home at 
 any particular time. While loitering in Gra- 
 nada, the most delicious spot they had hitherto 
 visited, they talked over various plans for their 
 return home. Every day a new route was pro^ 
 posed, and after due discussion abandoned, as 
 not leading near to Salvatiera ; and though the 
 Seymours had not positively determined on 
 another visit to their sister, they were loath to 
 leave Spain without seeing her again. 
 
 One day, as they were sauntering under the
 
 282 DE LISLE. 
 
 magnificent colonnade of the Alhambra, called 
 the Court of Lions, never weary of contem- 
 plating the beauty of the building, and mourn- 
 ing over its desertion, the sound of an English 
 accent caused them to look round with that 
 indefinite emotion known only to those who 
 are far from home and unaccustomed to hear 
 its language. The speaker was not merely an 
 Englishman, but an acquaintance, of Lioners 
 at least, they having been in the same corps 
 together when it served in India. 
 
 Major Linden was a gay rattle, popular with 
 boys and women, active in promoting all sports, 
 excelling in most games, invaluable to those 
 who could not find occupation for themselves, 
 and somewhat fatiguing to those who could. 
 He and Seymour had never been friends, but 
 they had been thrown much together, and they 
 now met on a foreign land with cordiality. He 
 gave an account of all he had done since he had 
 last seen Lionel, with a degree of volubility 
 that astonished De Lisle and diverted Henry. 
 He mixed his own concerns and those of others, 
 his opinions past and present, in so rapid and 
 irregular a manner, that to follow him was 
 scarcely possible; the brilliant confusion of his 
 discourse leaving no definite impression of any
 
 DE HSLK. 283 
 
 sort. His style of interrogatory was as singu- 
 lar as his style of narrative. Complaining that 
 he could meet no one but an old cobler to show 
 him the curiosities of the place, he proceeded 
 to overwhelm Lionel with questions, which, if 
 answered, would have kept the party stationary 
 till nightfall ; but with the same velocity he 
 continued to run on, sometimes answering his 
 own questions, sometimes making lively guesses, 
 and then comments upon these notions as if 
 they had been all so many facts, then flying 
 off to something else as wide from the subject 
 as could well be imagined. 
 
 It was long before De Lisle could make out, 
 in all this chaos and superabundance of words, . 
 the plain fact that Major Linden was only lately 
 come home, and, finding nothing better to do, 
 had been sailing up the Mediterranean with his 
 brother. Lord Linden, who had a yacht of his 
 own, and had flattered himself such an expe- 
 dition mi^ht be of use to his wife, whose health 
 was delicate. Having taken a fancy to see 
 Granada, they had landed ; but the journey 
 from the coast, though not great, had impaired 
 the strength of Lady Linden, and they were 
 waiting in the town till she was somewhat re- 
 cruited. Hardly had De Lisle made himself
 
 284 DE LISLE. 
 
 master of this intelligence, when he found him- 
 self not only at Lord Linden's door, but posi- 
 tively ushered into his room. 
 
 Lord Linden was a fine-looking man, of a 
 certain age; but awkward in his manner, and 
 having rather an under look. Still, he had the 
 air of a gentleman ; and his expressions, if not 
 natural, were certainly polite. 
 
 " What have you done with Susan ?" asked 
 the Major. 
 
 " She is overcome with the heat, and is lying 
 down," replied his brother, " but you may sum- 
 mon her if you choose." 
 
 Major Linden started up to seek his sister- 
 in-law, but at this moment the door opened 
 and she entered. Lady Linden was a pretty, 
 faded-looking woman, with an expression of 
 soft languor and meek depression in her coun- 
 tenance, which extended itself even to her way 
 of moving. She drew back involuntarily at 
 the sight of strangers, but, recovering herself, 
 immediately advanced with an air of courtesy. 
 
 She scarcely glanced towards the strangers as 
 she bowed to them ; but, on hearing the name of 
 Seymour, she started, coloured faintly, and 
 looked up, as if half-desiring, half-dreading
 
 
 BE LISLE. 285 
 
 what she might see. Lionel instantly recog- 
 nized her, but apparently without sharing in 
 her emotion. He went up to her, took her 
 hand, and expressed his pleasure to find an old 
 friend, though with a new name. 
 
 My congratulations, I fear," he added, 
 
 will come so long after the time, that you 
 will probably dispense with them altogether." 
 
 '' I have been married nearly two years," said 
 Lady Linden with effort, and she smiled ; but 
 De Lisle thought so ghastly a smile he had 
 never before seen on a human face. 
 
 Now it was that the utility of such a person 
 as Major Linden became conspicuous. He 
 talked, laughed, bustled about, occupied every 
 one, and gave his sister leisure to rally her spi- 
 rits. She did so : the evening passed pleasantly, 
 and the more so, when Lord Linden discovered 
 that Lionel was a chess-player. To this game 
 both sat down with nearly equal eagerness; 
 Henry was following upon the map some route 
 Major Linden wanted him to take, and De Lisle 
 entered into conversation with the lady. It was 
 a relief to him to turn from the cataract of the 
 soldier''s conversation, to the polished phrases 
 and slow pronunciation of the young Peeress.
 
 286 DE LISLE. 
 
 After a time, however, he began to weary of a 
 tete-a-tete^ prolonged merely because neither 
 party knew very well how to break it. 
 
 He now thought her words were mechanical, 
 her attention forced ; and asking her, if she was 
 not tempted to overlook the game, he ad- 
 vanced to the chess-table, whither she did not 
 follow him. 
 
 " You must be an excellent player, Sir,'' said 
 Lord Linden, rising abruptly, " for you have 
 always kept the advantage over me." 
 
 Lionel, after such a speech, could not with- 
 out rudeness deny the fact, though he did not 
 think himself a superior player : he simply re- 
 plied, he had had much practice. 
 
 " If 1 had your coolness, I might beat you 
 yet," said the half-ruffled Peer. 
 
 " You shall take your revenge when you 
 like,*" said Lionel ; " a game is quite a treat to 
 me, for my brother knows nothing of it, and 
 my friend," he added smilingly, laying his hand 
 on Hubert's shoulder, " would think it too much 
 trouble.'*" 
 
 " Is it possible !" cried Lord Linden, losing 
 his anger in his surprise ; " and can you know 
 chess, and be indifferent to it ?" 
 
 " The wonder, I should think, my Lord,"
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 287 
 
 replied Hubert, " is rather, that one should not 
 be indifferent about every thing, than that one 
 game should not be found to attract every body ;" 
 and with these words they parted, though not 
 without a promise of meeting the following 
 day. 
 
 They were scarcely in the open air, when 
 Henry expressed his dislike to Lord Linden, 
 his amusement at his brother, and his pity for 
 the invalid, concluding with asking who she 
 was before her marriage. 
 
 " She was a very pretty rosy girl," said Lio- 
 nel " the daughter of a ruined banker, whose 
 name was Bellamy." 
 
 " Bellamy !" reiterated Henry ; " so, then, 
 this is the Miss Bellamy that was in love with 
 you before you went abroad ?'"' 
 
 " Where could you have picked up such a 
 gossip''s story, Henry ? I was a boy when I 
 left England, never thought of Susan Bellamy 
 but as a good dancer, and never certainly re- 
 ceived any encouragement from her." 
 
 " I am not accusing poor Lady Linden of 
 proposing to you in form, since you would not 
 propose to her ; but you cannot make me for- 
 get all I heard, at the time, of her mother's 
 plans and your insensibility.""
 
 288 DE LISLE. 
 
 " Her mother, like many other mothers, was 
 eager to marry her daughter, and by her over- 
 solicitude often defeated her own plans. She 
 may possibly have said Susan liked me — ^it is 
 a hackneyed manoeuvre, and had so Httle effect 
 on me, that I am really not certain, at this 
 distance of time, whether it was tried or not. 
 At any rate, I acquit Lady Linden, for I be- 
 lieve her to be amiable and artless." 
 
 " Artless ! a la mode desfemmes, I presume ?"" 
 said De Lisle sarcastically. 
 
 " Poor women !" said Lionel, smiling ; " you 
 are not their champion f' 
 
 " But you are, Lionel ; so they may do 
 without me." 
 
 " I am afraid, nevertheless, even I must 
 allow that they are not grateful, for you cer- 
 tainly stand higher in their favour than I do." 
 
 " And reason good,-— I pay them more at- 
 tention ; and how should they know by in- 
 tuition that you think better of them than I 
 do ? Besides, they fear you ; while those who 
 are disposed to take the trouble, liave always a 
 latent hope of succeeding with me." 
 
 " And you,"" said Seymour, laughing, " hav- 
 ing a latent consciousness that they are in the 
 right, hate them for the power, whether they
 
 DE LISLE. 289 
 
 exert it or not. I cannot deny the meed of 
 praise to so magnanimous an emotion !" 
 
 '' Have I not a right to despise women ?" 
 
 " What ! because one has deceived you ! 
 Did you ever form the rational design of closing 
 your eyes against the light of Heaven, because 
 they may sometimes have encountered unplea- 
 sant objects?" 
 
 Henry, who had loitered behind, now came 
 up, and De Lisle did not choose to continue the 
 conversation. Indeed, he had been rather led 
 into it unawares ; for, with all his confidence in 
 his friend, he shrank from the confession of sen- 
 timents that might lower him in his esteem. It 
 was not women alone that he felt little dis-. 
 posed to trust or approve — it was the whole 
 human race ; and how would Seymour, the 
 most benevolent and indulgent of mortals, who 
 reflected as it were the light of his own ex- 
 cellence on all around him — how would he 
 brook the cold, uncharitable doctrine ? Impos- 
 sible ! Hubert knew it was, and suffered not 
 the bitterness of his heart to overflow before 
 him. 
 
 The Lindens seemed in no hurry to depart, 
 and De Lisle would have been tempted to re- 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 DE LISLE. 
 
 joice in the circumstance but for the evident 
 unhappiness of Lady Linden, in whose fate he 
 could not be altogether uninterested. Her hus- 
 band was morose to her, though to no one else, 
 and her feeble spirits were unequal to contend- 
 ing any point. She trembled if he but raised 
 his voice ; an ungracious word brought the tears 
 into her eyes. While thus easily affected by 
 harshness, she was uncheered by any transient 
 show of affection, whether it was that she deem- 
 ed it insincere or capricious. She received, in- 
 deed, all such fits of attention with great sweet- 
 ness, as if she thought herself bound in cour- 
 tesy to return the obligation, but not as if it 
 gave her any real pleasure. Nor did it ; for 
 she feared her husband, and had long ceased 
 to flatter herself she might one day love him. 
 With a little more firmness, she might have 
 overcome her alarms and concealed her indiffer- 
 ence; but she was what Lionel had called her — 
 perfectly artless, — and, therefore, utterly une- 
 qual to play the part the ambition of her pa- 
 vents had assigned her. 
 
 Lord Linden had married her for love, and 
 love is not reasonable. He had a young, lovely, 
 and gentle wife, docile and amiable, who tried
 
 ]>E LISLE. 291 
 
 to return his affection, and might with a little 
 encouragement have succeeded; but the im- 
 patient Peer no sooner discovered it was yet to 
 be done, than his indignation was boundless. 
 He was not young, and felt it the more keenly, 
 and watched his young wife with a degree of 
 intemperate jealousy which she took for mere 
 ill-humour. She lost her health, and his ten- 
 derness for a time returned, but he could not 
 destroy the dread he had inspired her with, and 
 her tears and weakness, both of mind and body, 
 became at last more irksome than interesting. 
 Unfortunately for her comfort, it required no 
 penetration to fathom her feelings, and her hus- 
 band saw at one glance what those were with 
 which she met Lionel Seymour. 
 
 With that perverseness, however, which some- 
 times influences jealous persons, so far from 
 withdrawing her from the society of a person 
 so fatally dear to her, he felt the most acute 
 and painful curiosity to see how she would 
 conduct herself when the first surprise was 
 over, and, above all, to discover whether his 
 composure had been the effect of habitual self- 
 command, or the natural result of indifference. 
 
 He courted the Seymours while he hated 
 
 o 2
 
 ^G2 DE LISLE. 
 
 them, and vigilantly pursued a plan of watch- 
 fulness which by no means sweetened his tem- 
 per. Yet after a time he was obliged to confess 
 that he might be mistaken, for Lady Linden 
 neither sought nor avoided Seymour, rarely 
 addressed herself to him, did not even make it 
 up to herself by greater cordiality to his bro- 
 ther ; and if at any time she showed any at- 
 tention beyond the coldest courtesy to the 
 young men, that attention was reserved for De 
 Lisle. Yet of him Lord Linden even did not 
 feel jealous ; for Hubert, who soon penetrated 
 the fierce and nowise frank nature of the Peer, 
 took care never to betray, even in his manner, 
 the simple and natural interest that he felt for 
 the lady ; while she, taking refuge in his cold- 
 ness, and pleased with the general obligingness 
 and refinement of his disposition, delighted in 
 honouring the being whom Lionel loved. 
 
 There was a sort of tacit agreement too 
 between them, to avoid certain subjects and 
 bring forward others ; — thus, in speaking of any 
 thing he had seen curious on his travels, he 
 never mentioned the Seymours : it was evident- 
 ly soothing to her to hear what Lionel had seen, 
 without having him named. In the same way.
 
 DE LISLE. 293 
 
 lyithout one single confidential phrase on her 
 own situation or her husband's tyranny, she felt 
 that he saw it, and sometimes a faint and strug- 
 gling smile thanked him for the commiseration 
 so blended with respect and delicacy which 
 alone betrayed his observation.
 
 294 DE LISLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 One day that Lionel and his brother were 
 taking a ride, which Hubert's laziness indis- 
 posed him from joining, Lady Linden asked 
 permission to look at some sketches they had 
 made, and De Lisle took his portfolio to her 
 house. Her husband was there, looking more 
 than usually disturbed ; his brother, careless 
 and riotous as ever; and the lady, pale, calm, 
 and seeming like one who wondered at remain- 
 ing yet in the land of living men, when she 
 herself could scarcely be said to exist. 
 
 She received De Lisle almost cordially, and 
 was apparently reanimated by any thing that 
 led her out of herself. He drew the table near, 
 and placing the drawings before her, turned 
 them over one by one, patiently describing all 
 he remembered of the situations where they had 
 been taken. There was gentleness in his man-
 
 DE LISLE. 295 
 
 ner, but not a shadow of gallantry ; and Lady 
 Linden, therefore, quite at her ease, became 
 almost interested. Even her lord suffered the 
 sullens to merge into dignity, and expressed his 
 admiration of some of the masterly sketches 
 pointed out by his brother. 
 
 *' And did you do all these, Mr. De Lisle .?" 
 he said, after looking at several. 
 
 *' Not all,'* repHed Hubert carelessly, " it is 
 our collection." 
 
 *' Then both the Mr. Seymours contributed, 
 did they ? You, who are a judge of these 
 things, Lady Linden, can tell me doubtless by 
 Avhom each drawing was done." 
 
 *' Not exactly,'^ said his wife fearfully, " but 
 I see there are thiee distinct styles." 
 
 " And you cannot guess them apart ? For 
 an artist, methinks that is strange !" 
 
 " Do you wish me to try," she asked, with 
 an effort at cheerfulness ; " if so, I should 
 guess that what Mr. De Lisle passed over in 
 silence, are his own ; and that these more highly 
 finished ones are Mr. Henry Seymour's: be- 
 cause I know his brother's style, having seve- 
 ral of his drawings by me now, which he gave 
 me many many years ago :" and Lady Linden, 
 who had spoken with no apparent embarrass-
 
 296 DE LISLE. 
 
 ment, could not check a sigh at the end, as she 
 thought of the period when those sketches had 
 been given. The inward flame burned fiercely 
 in the breast of her lord, but he suffered it not 
 to blaze openly. 
 
 " I am glad," he said, " that I did not over- 
 rate your discernment ; and I cannot sufficiently 
 admire your memory; for as I never saw the 
 drawings you mention, I conclude you have 
 not seen them since your marriage." 
 
 " I have not," said Lady Linden, "but I 
 am not apt to forget ;" and there was a sinking 
 in her voice that went to the heart of De Lisle. 
 
 Willing: to turn the conversation into some 
 safer channel, he smilingly observed, '* That 
 is, indeed, a rare and blessed quality, under 
 favour of which even I may hope to be remem- 
 bered, though I wander to distant lands, and 
 leave my bones to bleach on a foreign shore." 
 
 *^ That I have remembered, is indeed true," 
 answered the lady ; " but you seem to overlook, 
 Mr. De Lisle, that I am one who will shortly 
 live but in the memory of others." She raised 
 her meek eyes with an expression of compla- 
 cency as if the thought of repose had been a 
 balm to her heart.
 
 DE LISLE. 297 
 
 Lord Linden's feelings took another turn : 
 his wife had not accustomed him to her com- 
 plaints, for this was the first intimation she 
 had ever given that she thought herself dying. 
 It struck him with sudden affright : he looked 
 at her, and thought he had never seen her so 
 wasted and ghastly. '*^ Has she so few mo- 
 ments to live," said he inwardly, '* and do I 
 embitter those few ?"" The thought was more 
 than he could quite bear, and he suddenly left 
 the room. 
 
 Major Linden, who attributed the words of the 
 invalid to mere lowness of spirits, and had not a 
 guess of the effect they had produced on his 
 brother, continued to pour forth his voluble 
 comments on the scenes commemorated by the 
 pencil of the travellers. It was an easy transi- 
 tion from the drawings themselves to those who 
 executed them. Henry had found favour in 
 the sight of the soldier, and he praised him 
 warmly. Hubert, with his usual languid quiet- 
 ude, assented to the eulogy without furthering 
 the conversation. 
 
 " As to Lionel," continued Major Linden, 
 " I know not what you have done to him, but 
 he looks like Henry's father. In India I thought 
 
 o 5
 
 298 DE LISLE. 
 
 him a Methodist, but at least he was young, and 
 looked so. He was handsome, too, and ani- 
 mated ; but what is he now ?" 
 
 " He is now — ^" said Hubert, with unwonted 
 
 earnestness, "^ sl man "" he paused, for Lady 
 
 Linden's cold hand touched his, and he felt the 
 grasp of her tremulous fingers, as a petition for 
 forbearance. He gently returned the pressure, 
 and, in his general moderate tone, added, " One 
 it is needless for us to discuss, since we should 
 not agree on the subject." 
 
 But the soldier, though he, like many com- 
 monplace persons, loved to cast a ridicule upon 
 those who were greater than himself, had no 
 spite against Lionel, and no desire to wound the 
 feelings of his friend. Instead, therefore, of 
 letting the matter drop, as Hubert wished, he 
 made an elaborate apology, confessing that it was 
 only a pity so few people were like Seymour. 
 
 " His airs of sanctity,'" pursued the Major, 
 " may seem neither uncouth nor unnatural, now 
 that he is at liberty to live alone, or to choose 
 only companions as steady as himself; but they 
 were not suitable to his situation, his age, or his 
 associates, when I first knew him. It is all 
 right for a clergyman to refuse his colonel's in- 
 vitation to dance at his house, because a com-
 
 DE LISLE. 299 
 
 mon soldier wished him to pray by his sick-bed ; 
 but foi a youth, whose business it is not, to 
 make so strange an election, and that for no 
 particular reason or attachment to the sufferer, 
 is, you must allow, carrying the thing too far." 
 
 De Lisle rather thought so too, and wondered, 
 besides, at the fact : it seenjed to him a fit of 
 zeal, unlike the unpretending temper of Sey- 
 mour ; yet, as his act, he would have defended 
 it, had he not feared, on Lady Linden's account, 
 to prolong the conversation. Aware that insi- 
 nuations against those who were dear to him 
 roused his indignation, he could not quite under- 
 stand the calmness of that lady, who seemed to 
 shrink more from the chance of hearing Lionel 
 defended than she did from hearing him accused. " 
 He watched her manner for a shade of displea- 
 sure against her brother-in-law, but none ap- 
 peared ; he looked for alteration on her features, 
 there was none. One crimson streak there was 
 on her usually pale cheek, but it was more like 
 an indication of bodily disease than a sudden 
 emotion of the mind, for it was stationary. Yet 
 of her fatal attachment he could not doubt, and 
 it inspired him with no small degree of pity, 
 almost of respect. 
 
 He had a natural tendency to romance, and
 
 300 DE LISLE. 
 
 accordingly felt disposed to overlook what might 
 be wrong in her feelings, in consideration both 
 of their object and their constancy : it seemed 
 to him so difficult to care for Lord Linden, and 
 so impossible to cease to care for Seymour. 
 Whether culpable or not, he could not but be 
 indulgent to one \5iho paid the penalty of her 
 conduct by hourly suffering, and the prospect 
 of a premature dissolution. Still it was not a 
 circumstance that diminished his disdainful opi- 
 nion of his fellow-creatures. True, her husband 
 was not amiable ; but she was not, therefore, 
 justified in accepting his hand, and withholding, 
 on her part, the ajflpection that prompted his 
 offer. She had married, as he thought, for an 
 establishment, and he scorned the proceeding 
 with all the might and delicacy of his nature. 
 Here, too, it was aggravated by insincerity, and 
 he thought if the gentle, the affectionate, the 
 upright could so act (and in many cases he 
 saw that Lady Linden was all this), what must 
 be the general conduct of those who had none 
 of these pretensions to public good-will ? 
 
 These reflections were not what principally 
 occupied him, though they failed not to find 
 their place ; what he most thought of was 
 breaking up a party, which could not continue
 
 DE LISLE. 301 
 
 together without adding to the bitterness of 
 Lady Linden''s lot. It was before he had found 
 time to propose any plan to his friends, that a 
 delicious moonlight night tempted the whole 
 party to loiter in the garden surrounding Lady 
 Linden's house. They inhaled the strong per- 
 fume of the orange flowers mixed with bal- 
 samic shrubs, which tempered its faintness by 
 an odour of a spicy nature. 
 
 " Oh," cried Lady Linden, " for the re- 
 freshing sound of rushing waters, and this would 
 be a paradise !"" 
 
 " Wishes cost nothing,'*'' said Henry, " and 
 therefore I would, with one stroke of a fairy 
 wand, transport the company to the Court of 
 the Lions, build up the alabaster vase that 
 stands in the centre, pour back its mighty vo- 
 lume of waters that have so long ceased to flow, 
 and watch those mellow beams, broken by the 
 building, glitter on the water, which would 
 shower back into its vase each drop shining like 
 a falling star." 
 
 " I think,*" said the lady, " I must close my 
 eyes, and enjoy the benefit of the image you 
 have conjured up to my fancy." 
 
 " It was barbarous,'" said De Lisle, " to 
 destroy so beautiful an ornament of so classic a
 
 <6 
 
 302 D£ LISLE. 
 
 shape. Is it known at what period it ceased 
 to be used, and was deprived of the waters 
 that fed it r 
 
 " Of course it is known," answered Lord 
 Linden, " though I either forget or never 
 knew." 
 
 They should have ceased," said Lionel, 
 
 when they were stained with the blood of the 
 Abencerrages, and their headless trunks were 
 strewn on the pavement, victims to the jealousy 
 of the Moorish king." 
 
 " That, indeed, was a horrid story ! and the 
 more so as the queen was probably innocent," 
 said Lady Linden. 
 
 " Then," rejoined Lionel, " you think no- 
 thing of the murder of so many innocent men, 
 if she had been guilty ?" 
 
 He spoke sportively, and the lady only smiled, 
 and shook her head in token of dissent ; but 
 her husband turning abruptly round, in a tone 
 of repressed emotion exclaimed : 
 
 " The unfortunate King was severely pu- 
 nished for his suspicions ; yet, as usual, no one 
 pities him. The Zegris were surely more to 
 blame — nay, for aught we know, the Queen 
 herself; but he who suffered more than death, 
 more than defeat — he is not merely condemned
 
 DE LISLE. 303 
 
 as a barbarian, but his motives as well as his 
 conduct unfeelingly censured." 
 
 " Jealousy," said his brother, " is not a suf- 
 fering or passion, call it which you will, with 
 which it is very easy to sympathize — many are 
 incapable of feeling it, many hold it criminal, 
 and many more laugh at it because they have 
 never been tried." 
 
 " To laugh at any thing that gives pain," said 
 his sister, " is unnatural and savage, but jealousy 
 is no harmless pang. It may torture the pos- 
 sessor, but it does not stop there. Every one 
 suffers for the malady or mania of one person, 
 which is not equitable ; besides, as the mistrust 
 that jealousy inspires is any thing but flatter- 
 ing to the object, so it^is concealed, and we all 
 know that what is not spoken cannot be con- 
 troverted ; thus the evil gathers strength in the 
 shade.*" 
 
 " What is not spoken may yet be seen and 
 understood," said the Peer gloomily. 
 
 " Not always," answered his wife mildly, " for 
 we see many things we do not understand." 
 
 Nothing more was said, but De Lisle was 
 confirmed in his resolution of speaking to Lio- 
 nel, which he executed that very night. Henry 
 had left them, and his brother listened to the
 
 304 DE LISLE. 
 
 I 
 
 proposal of Hubert, and its motives, not merely 
 with attention, but with an air of dejection 
 which alarmed his friend. 
 
 " Is it so painful to part with her ?" he asked, 
 in a tone of uneasiness that roused Lionel. 
 
 Turning towards him a countenance sad but 
 open, he said with the most friendly smile, 
 " Fear not for me, I am safe : reserve your 
 compassion for her. It may be vanity, but I 
 fear to leave her too suddenly. Perhaps I 
 have been wrong, but my idea was to remain 
 here, till, accustomed to my society and my in- 
 difFereoce, she gradually gave up the illusions 
 with which she now associates me." 
 
 " That you are both more rational and more 
 honourable than most people, I believe," re- 
 plied De Lisle; "but even for you 1 cannot 
 think such a plan wise ; your presence is more 
 likely to increase her husband's jealousy than 
 to allay it, and I cannot fancy its quenching 
 the flame on which time and absence have had no 
 effect. She knew before, that you did not love 
 her ; it is no new discovery ; and I can hardly 
 feel secure of your continued indifference, if you 
 are to witness this young, interesting creature 
 sink into an untimely grave."
 
 DE LISLE. 805 
 
 *' I do not think she will die, and I am quite 
 sure that I shall never feel for her more than I 
 do now, — the most painful commiseration, not 
 quite unmixed with self-reproach at not having 
 sooner detected and checked a preference I 
 could so little deserve." 
 
 " And who insures you such surprising in- 
 sensibility if we continue here, and you are 
 daily watching her ineffectual endeavours to 
 conceal unabating love .?'' 
 
 " Who insures it, say you ? I answer — the 
 past. A man may live, and quite well too, with 
 the loss of a limb or an eye — he may also live 
 when Death has smitten some of his best and 
 strongest feelings. I have yet a heart for my 
 friends — I have none for love.'* 
 
 " At your age, Lionel ! Why, you had better 
 be a monk at once." 
 
 " Not quite; for it is pleasant to roam through 
 the world at liberty, and return to die in the 
 spot that gave us birth. I certainly do not 
 intend to marry, but I make no vow against it ; 
 for doubtless there are many amiable women to 
 be found, who would not expect to find a lover 
 in their husband. I am speaking as a matter 
 of reason ; but we act from our feelings, or, at
 
 306 DE LISLE. 
 
 least, rarely vary much against them, and the 
 idea of marriage is as revolting to me as the 
 recollection of love is painful/' 
 
 " Surely you could not have loved in vain ?" 
 
 " If I had done so I could have overcome it, 
 and might then have loved again." 
 
 There was a long pause, which De Lisle had 
 too much delicacy to break. Lionel spoke first. 
 
 " There are some things too sacred almost 
 for the ear even of friendship, y^t I cannot be 
 mysterious to you, and since we have got on 
 this topic, I will go through with it. Nay, in- 
 terrupt me not, — once told, I shall find com- 
 fort in knowing there is one who feels for me." 
 
 LioneFs voice faltered, and he turned away 
 his head. After a moment he resumed. "You 
 know that I had once very wild spirits — they 
 enabled me to overcome even the gloom of the 
 paternal mansion, and so far were useful, but, 
 unluckily, the disposition also led me to form 
 expectations of happiness, and visions of excel- 
 lence most fallacious. Time sobered me — the 
 regiment I was in, the country I was sent to, 
 all tended to disappoint my high-born hopes. 
 I saw oppression where I had expected great- 
 ness, knavery among tliose who talked of phi- 
 lanthropy, fame falling on the fortunate^ and
 
 DE LISLE. 307 
 
 denied to the deserving. My standard of hu- 
 man excellence was lowered, and the tone of my 
 spirits sunk with it. Yet they never fell to the 
 level of yours, De Lisle ; for I remembered that 
 these things were but for a day, and were subject 
 to the direction of one who cannot err and will 
 not sleep. There was much evil that I saw, 
 but I knew there was much good that from its 
 nature I could never see ; and I did not despair 
 of man when I saw him weak, because I knew 
 he might gain other strength than his own. 
 
 '* The colonel of my regiment had taken 
 over his wife and daughter — the latter was 
 young, not strictly handsome, but enough so to 
 gain much admiration where she was. I thought 
 her amusing — we danced together, sang to- 
 gether, and had a regular flirtation, which was 
 put a stop to, just as it was getting rather too 
 serious, by her father, who behaved openly and 
 handsomely. He won my heart by seeming to 
 rely upon me ; and after our conversation, I 
 should as soon have thought of making love to 
 his wife as to his daughter. She thought I 
 gave her up too easily, I fancy, for she treated 
 me with great coldness, not to say disdain : how- 
 ever, she married at last, and then Ave became 
 very good friends. I was a little uncomfortable
 
 308 
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 at her marriage, but it soon wore off; and just 
 at that time I received my father^s orders to re- 
 pair to England immediately, in consequence of 
 the death of my elder brother. 
 
 " I disliked selling out of the army, and 
 thus giving up my profession the moment I 
 could live without it. Much time was spent in 
 fruitless negociation for an exchange : in the 
 mean time, my mother also dying, my father''s 
 impatience to have me home increased. I was 
 not to wait for any regular conveyance, not 
 even for an English ship, and I agreed to take 
 my passage on board a Dutchman. Our long 
 voyage was performed prosperously and rapidly 
 till we were almost within sight of home. A 
 gale in the Bay of Biscay well nigh proved 
 fatal — we were driven on the coast of France, 
 not far from La Rochelle. At that time we 
 were at war with France, and all hope of getting 
 to England from thence was soon put an end to. 
 My patience was severely tried at finding how 
 vain had been my haste, and that I had to wait 
 the re-fitting of the Dutchman in a dirty fishing 
 town so near home. 
 
 " Perhaps I owed my life to the delay, for my 
 exertions during the storm, though unfelt at 
 the time, had affected my health, and the third
 
 DE LISLE. 
 
 309 
 
 day after my landing I had a return of the fever 
 with which I had been seized as soon as I 
 reached Ceylon. I was very ill: my captain, 
 who had a sort of regard for me, had me con- 
 veyed in a kind of htter, a little way up the 
 country, to the house of a person he knew, who 
 had received him immediately after the accident 
 tliat had so materially delayed us. This house 
 looked as if the very genius of inconsistency 
 had presided over its erection, distribution, and 
 arrangement, whether exterior or interior. 
 
 " Nor was this wonderful, for it had been 
 the family seat of a nobleman attached to the 
 royal cause ; at different periods it had been 
 plundered and set fire to, but the massy walls • 
 refused to consume, and some friendly hand 
 had always been found to check the ravages 
 of the flames. During the hottest days of the 
 Revolution, the estate had been seized by an 
 attorney, who sold it in parcels ; the house 
 and a few fields had fallen into the hands of an 
 honest merchant, who knew nothing of its for- 
 mer possessors, and, finding such a range of 
 building inconvenient, was strongly tempted to 
 pull the whole to the ground, and erect with 
 the materials a more commodious and suitable 
 mansion.
 
 310 i>E LISLE. 
 
 '' His own family, at the time I was thrown 
 upon his hospitality, was not large, and could 
 not spread itself over one-half of the castle that 
 yet remained entire. It consisted of himself, 
 his wife, her son by a former marriage, and 
 his old aunt, with her foster-child. During 
 my illness, however, neighbours poured in 
 so numerously, from mingled motives of cu- 
 riosity and benevolence, that I concluded the 
 castle must be a perfect ant's nest. I received 
 the greatest attention and politeness from all 
 around me ; but as I grew better, I had little 
 wish for their society. It was known I should 
 recover, and the interest of my situation sub- 
 siding, the gossip was ended, and by degrees, 
 my host and his aged relative excepted, none 
 seemed to remember that a sick foreigner had 
 been received at the castle. 
 
 *' The old woman, who was called Dame 
 Martigni, was constant in her attendance, 
 sparing of her questions, and quite an invalu- 
 able nurse. I saw no other, but I had ano- 
 ther, more efficient, though less apparent. I 
 early suspected this, by little attentions to my 
 comfort more refined than I could expect from 
 a mere villager. I concluded some greater per- 
 son in the vicinity had taken an interest in my
 
 DE LISLE. 311 
 
 fate ; but, as every thing was given me in the 
 name of the Martignis, I held my curiosity 
 indiscreet, and repressed it. 
 
 " As I grew better able to distinguish sounds, 
 and as they became less frequent from the di- 
 minution of my visitors, I fancied a soft step 
 would sometimes steal along the corridor that 
 went behind the head of my bed, and linger at 
 my door. Dame Martigni frequently received 
 something when it gently unclosed, and it was 
 not lost upon me that this gliding person was 
 also a silent one. Every one else spoke as they 
 delivered in the nourishment or medicine ; this 
 one never. All my inquiries proving abortive, 
 I concluded my charitable visitor would not be 
 known, and was obliged to content myself with 
 profiting by her kindness. 
 
 " When I was able to crawl out of my room, 
 Dame Martigni led me to a balcony, at the 
 end of which a rustic seat sheltered me from 
 the sun. A little table was placed there, co- 
 vered with books and writing materials. When 
 left alone, I examined the drawer of my pretty 
 little table, in which I found a black shagreen 
 case. I opened it, and found fixed on each 
 side a miniature one : representing a middle- 
 aged man, covered with decorations and orders ;
 
 312 DE LISLE. 
 
 the other, a woman simply dressed, holding in 
 her hand a crucifix, on which she appeared to 
 gaze with wild and melancholy earnestness. 
 The air of these persons convinced me they 
 were no relatives to my host or my kind nurse, 
 and I seized the first opportunity of asking 
 whom they represented. Dame Martigni looked 
 at them for a moment with reverence ; there 
 was a tear in her eye as she replied, 
 
 " ' They were my master and mistress : in 
 their house I was born, and while they lived, I 
 never knew sorrow. My master was guillo- 
 tined early in the days of trouble. My mis- 
 tress sought refuge in a foreign land, whither I 
 followed her : she was prevailed upon to return 
 to Paris, where she died of grief. I then came 
 to live with my nephew, and took his name to 
 avoid observation.' 
 
 '* ' And what,' said I, ' could you fear from 
 observation .?' 
 
 *' ' Nothing for myself:' she paused, and 
 added, ' I was connected with those whose 
 best safeguard was concealment : — though things 
 do seem settled now, I do not like to trust to 
 them.'"
 
 DE LISLE. S13 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Ouii conversation was interrupted by loud 
 huzzas from the villagers. My balcony com- 
 manded a view above the mouldering walls into 
 a field, where I now saw numbers assembled. 
 Their shouts were so clamorous, I could dis- 
 tinguish nothing accurately but one name oftea 
 repeated by the crowd. 
 
 " ' What can they want of Eugenie !' cried 
 the dame in evident alarm, and at this moment 
 a turret- window was opened, and on the nar- 
 row broken platform before it stood a slender 
 white figure, who, waving her hand to those be- 
 low, asked in an accent very different to the 
 patois of Dame Ma;rtigni and her family, what 
 they wanted of her. 
 
 " ' We bring you good news,' cried one. 
 
 *' * Your law- suit is undertaken,' cried a 
 second. 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 314 DE LISLE. 
 
 " ' Come down and hear,' said a third ; and 
 the white figure immediately disappeared. 
 
 " I turned to speak to the dame, but she was 
 gone ; and presently I saw her standing in the 
 field beside the white lady, who was now com- 
 pletely veiled, and, at any rate, too far off for 
 me to distinguish her features. This was Eu- 
 genie De St. Clair, the last of a noble house, 
 but who then was content to lead the life of a 
 rustic, and receive her daily bread from her 
 foster-mother. To her belonged the table 
 placed for my use on the balcony, and her 
 parents were the individuals pourtrayed in the 
 shagreen case. Her mother died before she 
 could bring her affairs to any sort of conclu- 
 sion ; and Eugenie, young, timid, and destitute, 
 was hurried by her humble friend into the 
 country, till she should be old enough to take 
 some active part in her own concerns. 
 
 " Money to pursue her claims was wanting, 
 but chance, or rather Providence, had raised 
 her up a powerful friend. He urged her cause 
 as one of justice, for he knew her not ; and 
 when a trial was granted, the counsel refused 
 the offered fee, declaring that he would take 
 it only if his young client was successful. This 
 intelligence was -meant only for Eugenie, but
 
 DE LISLE. 315 
 
 had been communicated by the messenger sent 
 to her, at the Httle alehouse in the village, to 
 all who happened to be present. It flew like 
 wildfire, and every one was eager to be the 
 first to greet their young favourite with the 
 news. 
 
 " In no country is the body of the people 
 more enthusiastic than in France. Easily ex- 
 cited, they may be led to fearful excesses, but 
 they will rush of their own accord to acts of 
 feeling and sensibility. Their impressions are 
 very keen, and succeed each other rapidly ; 
 they are consequently versatile and easily de- 
 ceived. Their attachments are so many pas- 
 sions, and their affection an idolatry, that with • 
 us is often thought affectation or servility, for 
 want of duly considering the wide difference 
 between our national character and theirs. 
 
 " By the transports with which Eugenie was 
 received, a stranger would have taken her for 
 the universal benefactress of the circle in which 
 she stood ; yet was she poor almost as the 
 poorest, and, in case of a favourable change in 
 her circumstances, was altogether unlikely to 
 remain among them, and be enabled to benefit 
 them. I thought not then of all this : I saw 
 only a stranger in a situation both peculiar and
 
 316 DE LISLE. 
 
 toucbing. She was the object of universal in- 
 terest, and the voice of the multitude is never 
 without its influence on the human heart. I 
 was prepared to sympathize with her good for- 
 tune long before I knew in what it consisted. 
 When at last the crowd had dispersed, Eu- 
 genie accompanied the dame to the balcony. 
 There were steps at the farther end, to which I 
 had crawled to have a better view of the scene 
 below. Eugenie approached them ; I trembled 
 lest she should pass on. In my weak state, the 
 transactions of the morning were events replete 
 with emotion. I could have thanked her as she 
 mounted the steps, but I did not know how, 
 and was silent. 
 
 " She addressed me in the simplest phrase of 
 congratulation on my convalescence. I won- 
 dered I had never before admired the French 
 language ; in her mouth it was so full of grace 
 and elegance and feeling. I replied awkwardly 
 enough, for it was new to me to lose my self- 
 possession. Dame Martigni recommended my 
 returning to my seat, as I looked fatigued. 
 Eugenie offered not to assist me ; so, leaning on 
 the railing and my good nurse, I moved feebly 
 on, looking sometimes at the lady, who was 
 doing her best to accommodate her pace to ours.
 
 DE LISLE. 317 
 
 " Her firm tranquil step was not indeed 
 much more like that of her companion, than 
 was her smooth brow and glossy hair like the 
 shrivelled face and scanty grey locks of the 
 venerable dame. I was lost in wonder when I 
 remembered that Mademoiselle De St. Clair had 
 lived so long with the Martignis, seeing only 
 their associates, and adopting even their attire. 
 Except the long veil that hung on her arm, 
 her dress was that of a peasant ; and the tan 
 and freckles that would have spoiled any other 
 complexion than hers, showed how few were 
 the precautions she took against the power of 
 the sun. Yet had she preserved an air and 
 manner that spoke of times past : a lofty mild- 
 ness that forgot not noble birth in the very lap 
 of poverty : a serious smile, that showed though 
 grief had passed away it was not forgotten. 
 
 " When she looked down, (and her bending 
 head and shoulders were more graceful than a 
 poet's dream,) she reminded one of the Italian's 
 famous picture of the Madonna, so soft, so 
 pure, so holy was the expression of her counte- 
 nance ; when she raised her dark blue eyes, and 
 spoke to you, it was another face, intelligence, 
 energy, decision, tempered by natural sweet- 
 ness and acquired courtesy. Her form and 
 
 p3
 
 318 DE LISLE. 
 
 features had the freshness of extreme youth ; 
 but her manner, self-possessed and serious, 
 convinced you that she had seen and suffered 
 too much for such tender years. 
 
 " Well ! all this avails not now, I meant but 
 to relate the bare facts. I could not get Eu- 
 genie to give me as much of her society as I 
 expected, considering that she had no one else 
 on whom to bestow it, and that I was in need of 
 some change. When I hinted this, she sent 
 me the list of her books ; observing that they 
 were to her in lieu of conversation, and might 
 therefore be as useful to me : she added, 
 
 '"• ' You must not forget that in my country 
 a single woman is not expected to furnish 
 amusement in society ; — that is left solely to the 
 matrons/ Accordingly, a daily visit of a few 
 minutes in company with the dame, was all I 
 could obtain. By degrees they were lengthened. 
 I beguiled her into some curiosity about the man- 
 ners of the East, and of England, and I believe 
 the one appeared to her as strange as the other. 
 Then I talked of France, and found her but too 
 conversant with the horrors of a Revolution, of 
 which, though she had seen but little, she had 
 suffered much. Of the companions of her 
 childhood, scarce one had escaped, and the re-
 
 DE LISLE. 319 
 
 bound of these dreadful strokes reached her 
 with fatal force. 
 
 " When she related a tale of woe, and too 
 many such had fallen under her own eye, she 
 added no comment, she made use of no exag- 
 gerated phrase, she did not paint sorrow other- 
 wise than by facts; but her pale cheek, her 
 throbbing breast, her uncertain voice, showed 
 rather that she was sparing the sensibility of 
 others, than that she herself was deficient in 
 it. And, oh ! why could not you have seen her, 
 Hubert, when some noble deed, some generous 
 trait, some glorious sacrifice, was discussed ! 
 How her eye kindled, her colour rose, her tones 
 of varied exultation sunk at last to passionate, 
 tenderness ! 
 
 " Yet was it not every thing that is esteemed 
 great, that won from "her the tribute of admi- 
 ration. She often recounted, as an act of mere 
 justice, what many would have thought one 
 of magnanimity. She told of danger incurred 
 for objects of attachment, not as instances of 
 courage, either surprising or meritorious, but 
 as simple and necessary, though interesting 
 exertions. 
 
 " The lofty heroism of Eugenie De St. Clair 
 was tempered by a spirit of piety equally pro-
 
 320 DE LISLE. 
 
 found and rational. The consciousness of talent, 
 the pride of elevated sentiments, could not mis- 
 lead one who never for a moment forgot who 
 conferred them both. Even had she felt her 
 superiority, such was her good taste that she 
 would never have betrayed it; but she was 
 too pure not to be humble also. Having no 
 one with whom to compare herself, she thought 
 only of her disadvantages, and magnified into 
 defects the slightest things that fell short of her 
 high notions of duty. I soon learned to read 
 that guileless heart more accurately than its 
 possessor. You may imagine with what de- 
 licious emotion I first discovered there a sen- 
 timent unacknowledged to herself. No, you 
 cannot imagine, — you do not know what it is 
 to be the first and only object to the pure 
 unconscious being who would blush to feel her 
 own deep devotion; you do not know how 
 much more fondly we love here, one we hope 
 to love hereafter ! 
 
 " My strength was nearly returned, and I 
 could devise a thousand excuses for detaining 
 Eugenie at my side. She made not one her- 
 self, but she accepted mine. She no longer 
 talked of France, or asked me questions about 
 India; it was my country, my home, my family
 
 DE LISLE, 321 
 
 that occupied her. She made me describe my 
 sister in every way, her appearance, her man- 
 ners, her occupations ; and, though eager to 
 approve, she listened to my eulogium of Isa- 
 bella, as if she missed something, and waited 
 till I should put the finishing stroke to a cha- 
 racter so estimable. She waited in vain, for 
 I could not lend enthusiasm or sensibility to 
 my sister, not even to please my beautiful Eu- 
 genie. She could not comprehend my asser- 
 tion that Isabella's lot was not an enviable 
 one. She asked what she could require more. 
 
 " ' Has she not a home, a name, a family ? 
 Is she not amiable and religious ? How can 
 she miss happiness that presents itself in so . 
 many shapes to her ?' 
 
 " I spoke of domestic vexations and consti- 
 tutional low spirits; but Eugenie, accustomed 
 to think of no evil so much as the want of 
 protection, thought any parent must be delight- 
 ful : and when I said that mine loved not my 
 poor sister, she exclaimed with animation: — 
 ' But she has you ;"* and she looked as if 
 she thought that must be enough to content 
 her. 
 
 " You will think it perhaps strange, that I 
 should have let so many opportunities pass by.
 
 32^ DE LISLE. 
 
 of extorting from Eugenie a confession of her 
 tenderness, and acknowledging my own ; but 
 I was so perfectly happy, so fearful of break- 
 ing the deceitful calm in which she reposed, 
 of seeing her conscious cheek lose the delicate 
 colouring of entire serenity, and her eloquent 
 eyes averted in fear of meeting mine, that I 
 scarce ventured to move, lest a breath should 
 dissolve the spell that bound us. 
 
 *' Dame Martigni had told me that if her affairs 
 were so arranged as to make her independent, 
 her mother had wished her either to join her 
 funds to those of some other noble and impo- 
 verished exile, or to enter some convent abroad, 
 merely as a residence, but on no account to pro- 
 nounce the vows without a sincere vocation. 
 ' Mademoiselle De St. Clair,"* she said, ' did not 
 dislike the idea of a cloister she might quit ; but 
 was too fond of liberty and light to have any 
 desire to bury herself in one for life.' In any 
 way her prospect of comfort was so small, that 
 I did not think she would sacrifice much by ac- 
 companying me to England, though I did not 
 half like scaring her with the notion of our 
 union, before she was thoroughly reconciled to 
 my heresy, which, early in our acquaintance, 
 had been a subject of much disquiet to her.
 
 DE LISLE. 8SS 
 
 " One day that I had in vain sought her in 
 all our favourite walks, and even ventured to 
 knock at her own door without success, I asked 
 anxiously of my host what had become of her. 
 He only knew she was walking; and, much dis- 
 turbed that she should have gone out without 
 me, I almost ran in the direction pointed out, 
 and arrived breathless at the door of the village 
 church. I went in, and beheld Eugenie at the 
 humble altar, not merely kneeling, but nearly 
 prostrate, on the pavement : her attitude de- 
 noted the earnestness of supplication, I almost 
 feared of grief also ; but I could not approach 
 her at such a moment, unless invited to join 
 my prayers with hers. 
 
 "It was some time before she arose ; and 
 when sne came forward, I was shocked at her 
 countenance. Anguish, indeed, was gone, but 
 it too plainly had been there — tears, too, had 
 ceased to flow, but they had stained her cheek 
 and clouded her soft clear eye. She was quite 
 composed, and there was no fluctuation on her 
 pale cheek : the storm had been there — been 
 struggled with and overcome. She smiled 
 faintly when she saw me — it was still the smile 
 of tenderness, but hope and joy had fled. I was 
 too much bewildered to speak. We went out
 
 324 DE LISLE. 
 
 of the church ; I sat down upon a tombstone, 
 and made room for her beside me. She looked 
 upon the grave, and her features lost some of 
 their calmness as she said, ' It is a good rest- 
 ing-place ;' but instantly making an effort to 
 speak in her natural way, she gathered some 
 flowers and asked me to help her to make a 
 garland. We continued to weave it in silence. 
 At last, in a quick clear tone, she said, 
 
 " Do you know there is good news for you ? 
 I have seen your captain, and his ship is in such 
 a state of forwardness, that he hopes to sail next 
 week. You have been so long from home, and 
 are, no doubt, so anxiously expected, that such 
 intelligence cannot be otherwise than pleasant.' 
 
 ^* Eugenie's self-possession did not desert her 
 while she spoke, but she bent her head over 
 the flowers, and I could see the hand that held 
 them tremble. Was this then her grief.'' I 
 could have uttered a cry of joy at the convic- 
 tion, but T restrained myself, and, scarce know- 
 ing what I said, I asked, since she had so 
 speedily disposed of me, what she meant to do 
 with herself.? She raised her beautiful eyes to 
 Heaven as if she had said, ' That yet remains 
 to me,' and calmly answered, 
 f
 
 DE LISLE. 325 
 
 cc 
 
 ' I shall fulfil my mother''s wish, and devote 
 myself to God.' ' You will not take the veil ?' 
 ' Why not ? What should I leave ?' ' One, 
 my Eugenie,' I said, ' whose love you should 
 not have doubted ;' and from that moment she 
 never did doubt it; and when at last I re- 
 ceived her faith at the altar, and thought with 
 what pride I should present my beautiful bride 
 to my father, I deeply felt that, beloved and 
 honoured as she would doubtless be, she would 
 never be prized as she deserved." 
 
 Lionel paused, and turned on his friend a 
 look of former years : the animation that found 
 its way to every breast ; the smile of gladness 
 that, like a sunbeam, irradiated all on whom 
 it fell, once more returned with all its native 
 brightness ; and, though but the reflection of 
 the past, was still glorious and beautiful. The 
 expression indeed was fleeting, and gave place 
 to one of more than usual dejection ; but it went 
 to the heart of De Lisle, for he now felt 
 that it was not time alone that had altered 
 Lionel. 
 
 END OF THE URST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, DORSET STREET.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILUN0I9-URBANA 
 
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