THE ABUlLTJEFvESS ; OR, ANECDOTES or TWO NOBLE FAMILIES. A TALE. In Four Volumes; BY AN ENGLISH- WOMAN, Our actions are our heralds, and they fix Beyond the date of tombs and epitaphs, Renewrt or infamy. i Tobin's Curfew. *"• VOL. I. ILonlron: PRINTED FOR THE AUTHORESS; AND SOLD Br SHERWOOD, NEELY, AND JONES, 20, PATFRNOSTER ROW. iSJO. Printed by W. Gleudinning, 25, Hatton Garden, London. ^-v V V 6 <^ PREFARATORY ADDRESS. TO MRS. WEST. Madam, Though personally unknown to me, yet the high veneration I enter-* tain for your character and principles, as displayed in your writings, has de- termined me to dedicate this little Work to you. At a time like the present, when so much laxity of prin- ciple prevails, not only among the higher classes, but likewise in all VI PREPARATORY ADDRESS. ranks and conditions of life, a moral writer like Mrs. West, who will sometimes condescend to blend a- musement with instruction, cannot be too highly valued. Accept then. Madam, this heart-felt tribute of esteem and admiration, for your praise-worthy endeavours to further the interests of Virtue ; —and, though I can with truth aver, that in writing the following pages, I have been ac- tuated by similar motives, yet^ con- scious of my inability, I scarcely dare hope, that my feeble efforts will avail aught, towards promoting so desirable an end. — But I meant not to speak of myself. You, Madam, possess both the ability and the incli- nation to employ your pen in the PREPARATORY ADDRESS. Vll cause of Piety and Virtue ; and by so doing, merit far higher praise from the world in general, than any that can be offered by her, who now ad- dresses you under the signature of An EjSfGLISH-WOMAN. Dtcemher 23, 1809. THE ABUJLTJERESS ; OR, Anecdotes of Two Nolle Families. CHAP. L In ham'su hearts wTiat bolder thought can rise. Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn! Where is to-morrow ? In another world. For numbers this is certain j the reverse Is sute to none - Young. x\S Mrs. Dal toil, a poor but worthy woman, who gained a precarious liveH* hood by attending ladies in their accou- chement, was just finishing her solitary breakfast, and lamenting her ill fortune in not having any engagement for the future, a tap at the door of her huilible apartment announced a visitor. Imagi- ning, at that early hour, it could be only VOL. I. u^ 2 THE ADULTERESS. one of her fellow lodgers, (as almost every room of the house she lived in was let separately,) she desired whoever it was to come in. The door opened, and a tall, elegant woman entered the room, who, ad- vancing towards her, enquired if her name was Dalton ? Having answered in the affirmative, and, ia some degree of confu- sion, oiFered the lady a seat, she apologised for her rudeness in not opening the door of her apartment. The lady, however, begged she would say nothing about it- it was a matter of no consequence — and then proceeded to enquire how her en- gagements stood for some time to come? Mrs. Dalton, who naturally supposed the lady meant to engage her, either for herself or some friend, replied— *' why '* Madam, it now happens, and I believe ** such a thing never happened to me *' before, that I have no engagement at ^* all at present." *' Then, possibly,'* said the lady, '*you ^ ** may be willing to undertake the busi- '^ » V (C Mk. THE ADULTERESS. J *' ncss I am now about to inform you of. " A friend of mine is obliged to acconi- '* pany her husband abroad ; they have *' one child, a daughter ; but, circum- stances, which I am not at liberty to explain, prevent them taking the child v/ith them ; and I have under- ** taken, at their request, to look out ** for some respectable \voman to take *' charge of her. Dr. Dennison recom- ** mended you to me — and I have lost " no time, as the child's parents are al- ** ready gone, and therefore I must select *' some person immediately. What do *' you say to it, Mrs. Dalton ? Are yon *' willing to receive this little girl?" '' I don't know very well what to say '' to it, Madam," replied Mrs. Dalton, hesitatingly— " for, though to-be sure, " mine, as I may say, is a hard earned '* morsel of bread ; up nights and days; *' and no certainty about it— yet, 1 b^ve " many good mistresses ; but, only, ua^ " luckily, they none of them happc * THE ADULTERESS. " AV^ant me for this long M'hilc. And *^ then, Madam, you see, if I was to take " Miss to nurse, I must be obh'ged to *' give them all up, for good and all ; ** and then Aviien Miss was old enough to *' go away from me, what should I do ^* for a living then ? IMy mistresses would, *' perhaps, all have forgotten ine, which *' I take care now they shan't do, for I " generally call upon them all, every " three or four weeks or so — to be sure, ** I might do that, even if I had the '* poor little dear ; but then, you might, " may-be, object Madam to Miss's being *' carried about/' '' Wh}^, Mrs. Dalton," returned the lady, ^* if you agree to take charge of *' this little girl, you will not be undci* *^ the necessit}^ of wandering about for ** a livelihood ; for there will be a suffici- *' eat income allowed, for you both to '*ve in a very comfortable and respect- style ; which you will receive at a s, (in whose hands some money \ THE ADULTERESS. 5 "has been placed for that purpose, by " her parents,) in quarterly payments. '"'All that will be required of you, is, to * * take particular care that the child is *^ tenderly treated, for her healtlr. is in " a very delicate state. But, do you agree "to become a sort of second mother to *' my little charge ?" This was an offer not to be rejected by a person in Mrs. Dalton's situation in life : who, after a very little more hesi- tation, agreed to receive the little girl : but said, she feared,, if the young lady was ailing, her present lodging would be too close for her^*' for," added she, " I have only this one room, Madam, " and it is not very airy, to be sure.'' *' O ! that is of no consequence," i:esumed the lady, '* as apartments *^ are already provided at a short " distance from town, and which I *^ should wish you to take possession of " this very evening. I suppose you can B 3 *< r> S( O THE ADULTERESS. ** leave your present apartment, without any inconvenience, immediately?" " I shall he obliged to pay for this quarter, and I am afraid my landlady ** will not suffer me to leave her house, /''without letting her have the rent; '* which, I am sorry to say, Madam, is *' out of my power to do." The lady, however, desired her to give herself no concern whatever, as she would provide her with money to settle with her landlady ; and accordingly, left w^ith her a note for that purpose ; she then in- formed her, that the child should be brought to her that evening in a coach, which would call to take her up; and tliat they might then proceed together to the lodgings, which had been provided for them at Chelsea. In order to account for the seeming hastiness of her proceedings, the lady said— that the child was in the height of the small-pox, and that a change of air ' had been ordered by the physician who THE ADULTERESS. 7 attended it, who had said, that no time was to be lost. Mrs. Dal ton, promising to be in readiness at the time appointed, the lady shortly afterwards took her leave. The bustle of disposing of her furniture, and settling with her landlady, occupied Mrs. Dalton's time so completely, that she had no leisure to reflect on the mys- tery attached to her late visitor, who had not mentioned her name, nor indeed 'scarcely shewn her face, v/hich had been covered with a veil during- their whole conference : and she had but just com- pleted her arrangements, when the coach stopped at the door, that was to convey her to her new abode. There w\is a lady in the coach, but, by her voice she found not the one who had been with her in the morning ; and a child about two years old, carefully wrapped up, to secure it from the night air. The former proceeded to acquaint Mrs. Dalton, that her mistress, Mrs. B 4 t ' THE ADULTERESS* Onslow, had been unexpectedly prevent- ed from accompanying the child herself, and had, therefore, entrusted her, to see them safely lodged in their new apart- ment ; but would come and see them as soon as she possibly could. They soon arrived at the place prepared for them ; ^vhich, instead of Chelsea, as the lady ha4 said in the morning, was at Hammersmith, where they took possession of a first floor, in a very respectable house, inhabited by a widow. The attendant remained with them, until the child was put to bed ; and as it seemed very ill, being almost covered with that cruel disorder, the small-pox, siie desired Mrs, Daiton would send for an apothecary in the morning ; and she would contrive to see them again the next tiay. Then, after leaving with her a note to provide whatever was necessary, (though the servant of the house was to attend them l^y agreement) she returned to town in the same coach, which had brought them to Hammersmith. THE ADULTERESS. 9 For several days the child continued extremely ill; but, at length, the disorder abated, and she began to mend rapidly. The attendant had called again the next day ; but excused herself from paying them any more visits for a week or two, on account of little Emily ; who, she said, would most probably cry after her ; and that it would be better for a time that she should see only Mrs. Dalton ; as by that means she would the sooner get accustomed to her. They saw no more of either mistress or maid for above a fortnight ; until one evening, when the child was partly recovered, they both made their appearance in deep mourn- ing. Mrs. Dalton had now an opportunity of observing the lady, who seemed a very handsome woman about eight and twenty. She lamented her inability of calling before to see the child, owing to the death of an intimate friend, but said, she sliould often look in upon them now, b5 10 THE ADULTERESS. as she should be more at liberty. She then fondly kissed the child, who was in bed, fast asleep, and enquired if Mrs. Dalton Avas satisfied with her apart- ments and situation ? " Perfectly so, Madam;" was the reply. She then named the banker to whom Mrs. Dalton was to apply quarterly for the income allotted to her ; which was a very liberal one ; and after making many other arrangements, such as she deemed necessary for their accommoda- tion, she once more went to the bed side, and impressed a tender kiss upon the lips of the little Emily, whose name, she in- formed her, was Doraton ; and then, with her attendant, wished Mrs. Dalton farewell. The child was soon completely re- covered from her indisposition, and would frequently inquire for papa and mama; and, though she had by this time attach- ed herself to Mrs. Dalton, yet, one day THE ADULTERESS. 11 when Mrs. Onslow, who had never be- fore called but when Emily was in bed, came into the room, she began capering about, in much apparent joy, exclaiming — **0 ! here is mama come to fetch Emily ; " now we shall go home ; shan't we " mama ?" Mrs. Onslow immediately said — *' she '* has been accustomed to call nie mama, ** indeed, she has been as much with me *^ almost, as with her parents." On her departure, however, the child cried to go with her ; and when Mfs, Dalton, who found coaxing and soothing of no avail towards pacifying her, began to try what scolding would effect, and to tell her, that Mrs. Onslow was not her mama, and that it was very naughty to cry so, she aAWered— *' It is you that '* are naughty to tell stories— Emily *' knows it is mama— Emily knows it '' is !" The child's earnestness began' to im- press Mrs. Dalton with the idea that 15 6 12 THE ADULTERESS. Mrs. Onslow might, possibly, be the mother of her little charge ; but as she saw no clue by which she could unravel the mystery ; and as an annuity of two hundred a year was regularly paid her, she gave herself very little concern about it. For some months Mrs. Onslow had been in Ireland ; and when she visited them on her return, the child appeared almost to have forgotten her, and clung close to Mrs. Dalton, who could scarce- ly prevail upon her to look up, during the short time Mrs Onslow remained with them. The latter talked of leaving En- gland in the approaching spring ; but did not, decidedly say, whether she meant to take them with her or not : as she said, she was not quite sure yet, that she should go herself. When the time of their departure came, Mrs. Onslow informed Mrs. Dalton, that they should set out the week following, but, that they did not intend to take the child with them. *' Though, " conti- THE ADULTERESS. lined she, " I expect we shall meet with *^ Emily's parents, whilst we are from " Encrland : and if thev wish to have *^ her over, I will send for you both. In *' the mean time, the same income will *^ be regularly paid you, as usual, at ** Renton's, the bankers ; and I would *' have you remain in your present apart- ^' ments :"--then, after some evident re- luctance at parting with Emily, she bade them farewel, telling Mrs. -Dalton not to be surprised, if in the course of a year, , she should send for them over, to where- ever they happened to fix their abode. During the space of two years, Mrs. Onslow had written several times, and, at length, a letter was received by Mrs. Dalton, to say, they were now arrived at Paris, where they intended to take up their abode ; and that she was to bring the child over to them, as soon as she could conveniently arrange the necessary preparations for their journey : — for which, she was to receive a sum of mo- ] i THE ADULTERESS. ney at the bankers ; who, she was like- wise informed would give her any ad- vice she might stand in need of, as to the proper mode of conveyance. A per- son, Mrs. Onslow further said, should meet her at Tilliers, between Dieppe and Paris ; and concluded by expressing a wish, that she would lose no time in dis- charging her lodging, &c. and that she would leave London as soon as she pos- sibly could, after the receipt of her letter. Mrs. Dalton was in a great bustle at thiS: unwelcome summons, for such it was to her ; who, for the last four years had enjoyed a comfortable home in her na- tive country, which it grieved her much to be obliged to leave. But, as there was no alternative, but returning to her former employment, and parting \vith the child, for whom she now experienced a mother's fondness, she, though with a heavy heart, set about the necessary pre- parations for their journey to Paris. The THE ADULTERESS. 1^ banker furnished her with fifty pcunds for her expences, and the next morning she left London for Brighton, in order to embark in the packet for Dieppe : — though the very sight of the sea inspired her with such a sensation of horror, that she was almost tempted to resign her little charge to the care of some other person. However, love for little Emily finally prevailed in conquering her fears of the ocean, and they set sail, the morn- ing after their arrival at Brighton. They had not left Brighton more than an hour, before the wind changed exactly against them ; and before night a storm came on, which raged with such violence and fury, as to threaten their immediate destruction. Poor Mrs. Dalton, whose frame was completely unnerved before she had set a foot in the vessel, was soon so ill from the usual effects of its motion, added to her fears of the water, as to be quite incapable of attending to Emily; who, though not old enough to be sensi- ble of their danger, stood weeping to 16 THE ADULTERESS. see her so very ill, and begging her to speak to poor Emily.. A lady, whose countenance evidently betrayed her to be the victim of ill health, was the only female on board the vessel, who was free from the dreadful sensation of sea-sickness— but it seldom effects those, in a weakly, declining state, as was this lady, but more generally at- tacks the strong and robust. This lady was on her journey to the south of France; for the recovery of her health ; and though much alarmed, at their situation, after having with much humanity at- tended to her own maid, who \vas neaily as bad as Mrs. Dalton, endeavoured to please and pacify tlie child. In this she soon succeeded — and before morning, the storm hap}3ily subsided; — which, for some hours afterwards, was followed by a perfect calm. They were now nearly midway between the shores of France and England ; and as the packet scarce- ly moved, there seemed no prospect of reaching Dieppe that night. Mrs. Dal- THE ADULTERESS. 17 ton remained very ill the whole day; and little Emily, whose manners were artless and engaging, completely won the heart of her new acquaintance. Towards eve- ning a brisk gale arose^ Avhich promised a speedy termination to their voyage ; but from the rapid motion of the vessel, Mrs. Dalton, as well as the other pas- sengers, w^as again so ill, that when they at last reached the place of their destina- tion, she was unable to move or speak, and was carried quite senseless to the Hotel Miss Maitland, the lady before menr tioned, took the child under her ow^a care, and directed her maid, who, as is generally the case, had recovered imme- diately on reaching land, to pay Mrs. Dalton every attention; thinking that a little rest would, in all probability, re- store her. Susan, however, soon after came into the room where her mistress was seated with little Emily, and begged she would just step up stairs, ibr she really believed the poor M'oman was dy- 18 THE ADULTERESS. ing. Miss Maitland followed Susan im- mediately to the apartment of Mrs. Dalton, whose countenance seemed to indicate approaching dissolution. She desired the landlady would send imme- diately for the nearest medical advice — and, when the woman appeared to hesi- tate, fearing she might not he paid for lier trouhle, begged they would not de- lay a moment, as she would undertake to be responsible for the payment of any expence that might be incurred. When the apothecary came, he pro- nounced her to have broken a blood- vessel in her head ; and said, she could not survive many hours. His predictions were fatally verified ; for she expired the same evening. Being a total stranger to every one around her, her pockets were searched, in order to find out who she was ; or, from whence she came : but she had no pocket-book, or paper about her, that could in any way lead to a discovery of THE ADULTERESS. 19 cither her name, or place of residence. Miss Maitland, who felt particularly in- terested for poor little Emily, thus left to the rhercy of strangers, undertook to to question her minutely— but from her no farther information could be gained, than — that they come from home— and were going to France. ** Who were you going to see, my ** dear ?" enquired Miss Maitland. '* Emily don't know"— was the reply. ** Did you leave your papa at home?" interrogated Miss Maitland, who natu- rally supposed Mrs. Dalton was the child's mother. " Emily never had a papa ; nor nobody " but nurse Dalton." ** And where is she, my love ?" " Didn't you tell me she was up stairs *^ very ill ?" said Emily — '' I want to go ** and see her." *' But is not that person your mama, *' my dear?" ^' No; — Emily never had no mama.*^ so TJIE ADULTERES-S. As no information could be gained from- these answers of the cliild, !\Iiss Mait- land went to consult with tlie landlady, what were the best methods to be adopt- ed, in regard to this little deserted being. The landlady, however, cut the matter very short, by immediately declaring, she could not let her remain at her house, she had children enough of her own ta keep, without being burthened with othor people's. The woman, to be sure, she said, had a matter of forty guineas in her pocket, which the girl, she supposed, Lad a right to, or any body that would be troubled with her— but what of that— that was nothing — especially when the expencts of the funeral, and her bill came to be paid. It was bad enough for her to liave a person die at her house, without having any plague about a child — but, however, ** go she nmst from here," ad- she, ** so there's an end of it." ** Perhaps," said Miss Maitland, '' tlie *^ captain of the packet may have soma. THE ADULTERESS. SI « 1^ knowledge of who the poor woman **M^as." '' That's a»good thought," exclaimed the landlady, " I'll send to him directly: ** hut if he knows nothing about who "she belongs to, he must e'en take the ^^ child back to England again with him, "for, she cannot stay here, that's for " certain.^' The messeno-er shortly returned with the information, that the -captain had sailed that morning early. '^ Then she must be sent to the hos- pital," cried the landlady — " that's the *' proper place for her to go to, as nobody " knows who she belongs to. And if no- *' body comes for her, to-morrow I shall "send for the hospital people to fetch " her— I will have nothing to <\o with " her— she's nobody as I know any thing "of; and there she'll be taken care ofj " with the other poor children. But, I "cannot stand losing my time about h^r 22 THE ADULTERESS. " any longer, when I am wanted in fifty *' different places in a minute.'* The deserted state of this little un- fortunate child, so occupied the mind of Miss Maitland, that she could think of little else, during the whole night, sleep was entirely banished. To leave her to the mercy of this hard-hearted landlady, seemed to her, as devoting the poor child to a life of wretchedness and mi- sery ; and, at last, after many debatings on the subject in her own mind, she re- solved, that when Mrs. Dalton was buried, (which was to be the next day,) if, by that time, no one appeared to en- quire after them, to take Emily under her own protection. Miss jNIaitland, who thus humanely interested - herself in the cause of poor Emily, was a young woman of large, in- dependent fortune, left entirely at her own disposal, by her father. Sir William Maitland. She was now about seven and THE ADULTERESS. 23 t^renty. For some time past her health hsid been decHning, and the physician Avho attended her, had repeatedly re- commended her to try the effect of a milder climate. But her aversion to un- dertake so long a journey, had been un- conquerable till very lately —when having received a letter from a very particular friend, (who was like herself in a pre- carious state of health,) informing her that herself and family were settled with- in a few miles of Montpellier ; and that she already experienced considerable be- nefit from the mildness of the climate. She was, at last, induced to set out on this long protracted journey. The next ^lay Mrs. Dal ton was in- terred, by Miss Maitland's order; the funeral was attended by her own maid, and footman, Avho saw the remains of this hapless woman, deposited decentiy in her last abode. As no one appeared, or made any en- quiry after Emily, the following morning 24 THE ADULTERESS. she accompanied lier benefactress *on her journey southward. As Miss IMaithind had some 3'ears before travelled through part of France in the life-time of her father, and had then spent some weeks at Paris, she did not now intend to visit it. 13 ustle of all kind, she wished to avoid ; and, therefore, from Rouen she meant to turn off towards Evreux, and then proceed on the direct road to the south. Emily wept at the thought of nurse Dalton being gone away, never to come back ao-ain : but her tears weie soon chased away, and smiles substituted iu their place, by the pleasing idea, to a child of lier age, of having a nice ride in such a fine carriage as ]\liss Mait- land's ; and long before it came to the dooT, she was stationed at a ^^•indow, eagerly Avishing that the time was come, when they might set out. Some weeks elapsed before they reach- ed Montpellier, as they travelled slowly, THfi ADULTERESS. 25 with their own horses : and, sometimes, stoping for a clay or t^vo, at any place Miss Maitland deemed worthy of par- ticular attention. Little Emily was a constant source of amusement ; her lively prattle made the journey appear less tedious ; and her engaging manners so completely won the affection of* her pro- tectress, that by the time they arrived at the end of their journey, she would have experienced a considerable diminution of happiness, had any circumstance occa- sioned their separation. Emily, in re- turn, seemed equally attached to her; though yet too young to be fully sensible of the obligation she lay under, for the uncommon humanity she had shewn, in thus taking her, a total stranger, under her own protection. As they proceeded on their journey, Miss Maitland several times fancied, that she could trace in the countenance of the child, a strong resemblance to some one she had seen before— nay, sometimes, VOL. I. c 26 THE ADULTERESS. she felt almost certain, that at some period previous to the present, she had before met with Emily herself: but when, or where, she vainly attempted to recall to her recollection. Every turn in the countenance of her protege6 seemed familiar to her; but she unsuccessfully endeavoured to bring to mind, the iden- tical person, to whom she bore so strong a likeness. t-That Mrs. Dalton \vas mo- ther to Emih', Miss Maitland entertained very little doubt, notwithstanding the childs assertions to the contrarv — their linen being marked with the same initials, seemed to add strength to the conviction — thouo'h that of Emilv's was of a texture far superior to her supposed parents — par- ticularly some caps, which had been worked with uncommon delicacy ; and were trimmed with lace of a beautiful and expensive quality. These, ]\Iiss Maitland resolved to take care of, and preserve; thinking, that at some future period, they might, perhaps, lead to a iscovery of some of her connections. THE ADULTERI!SS. 27 The journey to Moritpellier though long, was by no means tedious. As they advanced towards tlie south, a new scene presented itself to their notice. Hills, whose sides were covered with vines al- most breaking down from the barriers that confined them, by the weight of the ripe grapes, which were now ready for the commencement of the vintage— the near approach of which^ gladeoed the heart of every villager— and irradiated every countenance with animation and Miss jN,Iaitland was of that order of beings, whose pleasures are enhanced by the sight of happiness in others— and these scenes were, consequently, i cal- culated to afford her the purest sensa- tions of delight. As they travelled but a few miles each day, she would frequent- ly stroll out of an evening, (which in this mild climate is a part of the four and twenty hours, particuLirly suited to a ramble) and with Emily, and her own c 2 28 -l^IIE A.DULTER£SS. maid, whom she considered more as a companion^ than as a servant, (having lived with her from her infancy) walk to those spots, where the rustics assemble, to form the merry dance. This amusement, whicli the natural vivacity of the French, renders them so peculiarly htted to enjoy, seemed equally to please both the youthful, and the aged : for the latter, seated at some dis- tance from the dancers, apparently derived as much pleasure from the festi- vity, as did those who were more actively engaged. Not unfrequently, with a po- liteness worthy of imitation by those of a higher station, they would rise and offer her a seat, and press her to accept of one M'ith so much earnestness, and hospitality, that she found herself unable to resist their solicitations. To oblige them, she would accept, perhaps, a bunch of grapes; for which, she generally contrived to leave a trifie with the children who were playing about : with whom Emily would THE ADULTERESS. 2^ t gladly have joined in a game of romps ; but the little creatures stared at her if she spoke to them, and could not under- stand a word she said. She knew nothing of French ; nor they of English — but she longed to know what they could be talking about^ for they M-ere great boys^ and girls, she said, not to talk pluarer. It being late when they arrived at Montpellier, they stoptat the Hotel—and it was not until the following mornins\ that Miss Maitland sent James the ser- vant, on to Raimondi, to announce her arrival to Lady Vaversly— the friend be- fore mentioned, who was settled within a few miles of Montpellier. Both Lord and Lady Vav^ersly returned with the messenger ; and as they would not hear of her remaining any longer at the Hotel, she accompanied them to their abode ; which was delightfully situated, on the banks of the Mediterranean, at a village called Raimondi, about five miles distant from Montpellier. c 3 30 THE ADULTERESS. Here she was to remain, until a suit- able residence could be found for her, in the same neighbourhood with her friend : as they both preferred Raimondi to Montpellier, from its being far more re- tired — as the fame of the salutary effects of the latter, drew more company, and was, consequently, a place of far greater resort, than suited the taste or spirits of ei ther. For the first few days little Emily was a constant topic of conversation. Lady Vaversly highly applauded the humanity of her friend, and felt, that had she been similarly situated, her feelings and in- clination would have prompted her to have acted exactly in the same manner. But Lord Vaversly thought differently. He was of opinion that as the child was evidently the daughter of the woman who had died at the Inn, and, of course, a nobody, it would have been just as proper that she should have been sent to the hospital, or workhouse, which is th« THE ADULTERESS. ,ol same thing, as the landlady had pro- posed, and provided for accordingly. "^ Or, admitting," continued he, *' that *^ she was not the woman's daughter ; *' to a certainty, she could belong to no ** one of any rank ; probably some na- " tural cliild, v/hom its parents would *' have been 2:la(l to have had consio-ned *• to oblivion — and, it is possible, at some ** future time, may be a source of trouble " to you." /VMy own opinion," said Miss Mait- land, *' is — that Emily is the daughter " of Mrs. Dalton, or Doraton ; for I ** should rather imagine the latter to be '* her name, as it is, undoubtedly, that of *' the chikPs— for a little book I found " amongst a collection of play things, ** had writcen in it very legibly— Emily *' Doraton. This, therefore, as Emily '^ could not have written it herself, is, "without doubt, her real name; and " though she called the person with her, ** Dalton, yet 1 am strongly tempted to c 4 52 THE ADULTERESS. *' believe, that her name was also Dora- '' ton. However, that is of very little " consequence. Had I left her to the *' mercy of that unfeeling woman, I ** should have felt that I had acted " wrong ; and my conscience would '* continually have upbraided me, for not ** rescuing a little innocent creature from " a destiny so severe, and so unmerited. ** Whether her birch Mas from humble, " or illustrious parents, most probably *' the former, is, tome, a matter of no " moment— and there w^as no other wav* *^ hy which my interference could have ^^ benefited her, than by ta.king her " entirely under my own care." *^ Perhaps," observed Lord Vaversly, '^ had you left her at Dieppe, some one *' in the course of a week or two might ** have appeared to claim her." ^^ If that should be the case," returned Miss Maitland, '' her friends may readily *' hear of her; for I left my addrej^s with *' the mistress of the Hotel for that pur- ** pose; and I think they cannot fail to THE ADULTERESS. 33 *' receive pleasure, at finding her in safe- " ty." '* They must be formed of strange *' materials if they do not ;'' said Lady Vaverslv — " for, how few are there, who " weuld have been disposed to have ** acted with your humanity ; and should ^' she ever be restored to her friends, (ad- *^mitting that she has any) in my opinion, *' they can never be sufficiently grateful " for your kindness to the poor little de- ** serted girl." Lord Vaversly saicji no more— though, had Miss Maitland applied to him for advice, previous to her undertaking the charge of little Emily, his, would have been, decidedly, against it— but, fortu-^ nately for her, all he could now say was of no avail— though, he repeatedly observed fo his wife, that, in his opi- nion, *Miss Maitland had acted very fool- ishly, in thus burthening herself with a child, descended from paupers, for what she knew to the contrary. c5 S4f THE ADULTERESS. "~ Lady Vaversly, knowing her hus- band's prevailing foible, forbore to reply, as she could not agree with him, in con- demning the conduct of her friend— who, according to her ideas, had acted in the most meritorious manner. To argue with him on any subject, she knew would be unavailing; and, therefore, had long ceased to attempt it— for in his family he reigned with despotic severity, where his will must be obeyed. [ 35 j CHAP. II. Let High biith triumph ! what can be more great? J^othing— — — but merit in a low estate. YouNC HE ancient title of Vaversly had de- scended to the present Lord, through a long line of iHustrious ancestors; which, caused him to consider high birth, as of the first, and greatest consideration. Riches were held by him in the utmost contempt, unless the possessor could boast a descent from some ancient and noble family : and those whom he called the upstarts of the present day, he could never be brought, by any inducement whatever, to form an acquaintance with. In only one solitary instance had his pre- c6 36 THE ADULTERESS. judices infavour of high birth been known to give way ; and tliat was, in his union with Lady Vaversly ; w hose origin was not only obscure, but what was still w^orse, she had been under the necessity of seeking her own livelihood. Her mo- ther had been the wife of a clergyman, whose narrow income had barely sufficed to procure even the necessaries of life, for lier, and his children ; of whom Lady Vaversly was the youngest ; and, at his decease^ which took place suddenly, they were left wholly unprovided for. Mrs. Watkins, Lady Yavcrsly's mother, who had received a very liberal education, and who was a highly accomplished wo- man, found herself under the painful necessity of seeking some employment; and requested her friends would enquire for some situation, where her talents, and acquirements might be needed, in soine private family. Through the recom- mendation of one of these friends, she was, fortunately engaged as governess THE ADULTERESS, 57 to Miss Maitland ; having previously settleyhich seemed to await them : and de- clared, that except his own gu'l, he did not know a young woman, whom he had a greater regard for; or, who mericed a happier lot. To shew by action>?, as well as words, the high opinion in which he held her — both himself^ and his daughter accompa- 44 THE ADULTERESS. niccl her to the church, where he officiated as father, and gave the hride away ; — and when the service was conckuled, sahited her, and with tears in his eyes, sincerely wished her every happiness this world had to hestow. Mrs. Watkins accompanied the new- J. married pair to a country seat of Lord Vaversly's, which was remotely situated ; for he wished not to appear in the great world, until the hubbub occasioned by Lord Vaversly's marrying so much be- neath him, had in some degree subsided; for he thought, and very justly, that it was most probable, before the time he had tixed for having his wife presented, some other wonderful sul)ject would occupy the attention of the multitude, and call off their thoughts from what he k4iew, they would consider as an imprudei t match, with a person so infinueiy his in- ferior. There were some moments, when he considered it in this light himself— but THE ADULTERESS. 45 the presence of his wife would imme- diately chace away all unpleasant recol- lections ; and he flattered himself, that when ht had introduced her to the world, the beauty of her person, and the amiable qiiahties of her mind, would offer a suffi- cient apology, for tlie imprudence lie had been guilty of; in marrying a woman, who, instead of having an ilkistrious fa- mily to boast of, could trace her origin no farther than lier own giandfather, who liad been a tradesman in tlie city. Her brother had married rlie daughter of his master ; who, at the same time, had gi\'en him a share of his business ; which young Watkins found to be a very lucrative concern : and his wife's father dying not long after the marriage, he had come into the whole business, and was now in a fair way of making a fortune rapidly. Lord Vaversly, however, with the haughty ideas of high birth, could not bear the idea of visiting a man in trade, especially so near a relation of his wife's : 4^ THE ADULTERESS, and, therefore, proposed that he should quit his business entirely, and go into the army, where it was in his power greatly to promote him. His mother undertook to speak to him upon the subject — though such a scheme would have been almost death to her ; but, before she delivered Lord Vaversly's message, she was pretty well assured, that such a proposal would be rejected by her son. To oblige Lord Yaversl}^ however, she agreed to propose the matter to him : but she liad no sooner mentioned the subject of her mission, than he gave it a decided negative. '^ No, no, mother,'' said he, '* I am' " not such a flat as that, neitlier— that ** would, indeed, be quitting a certainty ^' for an unceitainty. I was very happy ^* at IVIarv's 2:ood luck in marrvins: such *' a great man as my Lord Vaversly, and *' I hope he will m.ake her a good husband ; *' but, as to dubbing me a Captain, he " must know little about trade, I think, ^' to make such a ridiculous proposal." THE ADULTERESS. 47 ^' I was almost certain you would not ** agree to it," said his mother— "but to ^^obhge him I undertook to propose it to *'3^ou. And, helilctwise; instructed me to *' say, that if it accorded with your ideas, ^' he would take upon himself to purchase *^ a commission, and exert his utmost in- ^' fluence to obtain you a rapid promotiom '' I am much obUged to his Lordship," replied Watkins, with a hearty laugli, ** but I must certainly beg leave to de- *' cline his offer."— Then added, more se- riouly, *' why, he must surely deem me ■*' mad, to imagine I should give up a *' profitable concern like mine, to haye a *' fine coat upon my back, and turn sol- "' dier ! — No, no, you may give niy res- ** pectstomy lordly brother-in-law, whom *' 1 shall be bappy to see at all times in *^ Cheaj)side, but as to thin army scheme, " it won't do — 1 cannot think how the *^ man could be so silly as to propose it ! ^^ You may know he is not of this end of ** the town ; that he knows nothing 48 THE ADULTERESS. *' about trade— if he (lid, he would ne- *' ver expect that I should be such an '* ideot as to quit business, and turn '* Officer ; which, to tell him the truth, '^ 1 would not do for any Lord in the na- ^^tionl" When she acquainted Lord Vaversly with the ill-success of her mission, he was evidently displeased, and disappointed; for, inwliatever lighc it Iiad been consi- dered by Mr. Watkins, he had intended it as a favour. Judging of the feelings of others, upon the subject, by his own, he had imagined that no man would wil- lingly submit to the drudgery of business, wdio had an otter of being so well provided for ; in (what he considered) a more res- pectable way of life ; and, therefore, con- cluded that his wife's brother was a man of low, grovelling ideas, and resolved to liave as little communication with him and his family, as he possibly could. Mr. AA'atkins, who was an honest, open-hearted character, but of blunt man- THE ADULTERESS. 49 ners, sometimes called in Grosvenor Square, (tlie town residence of Lord Va- versly) to see his sister; who had been pre- sented on her first arrival in London ; — where, lie was il^ays received by her with the same tender affection as before her marriage. But, in Lord Vaversly, he could not fail to perceive a haughty cool- ness, which in fact, he never attempted to disguise. This, however, though it checked any advances of intimacy, on the part of Watkins, did not offend him ; for, as he told his w^ife, when he got home, he supposed your Lords were always a high set— for his part, he wkhed to have no- thing to do with them ; he had rather deal with a country shopkeeper by half. " They were, in general," *^ he said," *' deuced bad paymasters ! and he never ** wished to see any of their names in his ■* books. As to this Lord Vaversly," con- tinued he, ** why, to be sure it was a great ** match for Mary— but, lord ! she might, *' perhaps, have been more comfortable VOL. I. D ■'\3iA "-Jk 50 THE ADULTERESS. *^ with a man in her own station ; for, be- ** tween you and me, he seems to be but '* a queer one I hope he will make poor " Mary happy ! but you must know, I ** much doubt it; for beseems tome to be ** a domineerer, and as proud as Lucifer! *' — If you mind, he never comes here ; — ** I suppose he was oifended at my refusal ** of his ridiculous army scheme; a fool- *' ish fellow ! — I am sure we don't want "■any of his company. — And, in return, I *' should never go near him, and liis fine *' lackeys, if it was not for poor Mary ; ** but, as I should like to go and see her *' now and then, I shall not trouble myself ** about his lofty looks, but make up my ** mind to take my gentleman as I find •'him." In the course of a year, Lady Vaversly presented her Lord with a son and heir ; a circumstance to him highly gratifying; for, durinq; the whole time the event had been in expectation, he had prayed ar- dently that the child might be a boy. She earnestly entreated, that she might be THE ADULTERESS. ^1 permitted to give her infant the suste- nance that nature had provided ; but this indulgence was not allowed. Lord Va- versly resolutely opposed such a plebeian idea. ** Had you remained in your former station," he haughtily answered, to her pleadings on the subject, " it would have ^^ been a matter of no consequence ; but as *' my wife, you certainly cannot expect ** that I should suffer you to act in the ca- " pacity of nurse— and, therefore, must ** beg you will say no more about it." She was by this time M^ell aware, by frequent experience, that from the stern mandate of her Lord, there was no ap- peal ; but it was not without the keenest feelings of regret, that she saw her child receiving from the bosom of a stranger, tliat nurture, which she conceived it to be her duty to have afforded him from her own. This was not the only instance in which she had been compelled to give up what she considered as duties incum- bent on her to perform ; in compliance . 52 THE ADULTERESS. "NVith the whims and caprices of her hus- band, who was always fearful that his" Tv'ife should act beneath the dignity of Lady Vaversly. Thus, though a coronet glittered on her brow, S^r heart was fre- quently the seat of many a painful emo- tion : and she was, sometimes, almost tempted to regret her former days of humble happiness ; and to breathe a sigh at the recollection of the freedom she then enjoyed, but which she now felt was lost to her for ever ! In another year their family was in- creased by the birth of a daughter ; and Lady Vaversly had again the mortification of seeing her child look up to a stranger, with that delighted smile, which by an infant is, exclusively, bestowed upon her, who fulfils towards it tliat endearing of- fice, which was certainly ordained by Providence for a mother alone to perform. She, however, this time submitted in si- lence—for the disposition of her Lord was become more arbitrary than ever; THE ADULTERESS. 53 and she feared to irritate him by expres- sing her wishes upon this occasion, as he was once before so peremptory on a simi- lar subject. For some time after their marriage, Mrs. Watkins had continued with her daughter— but, from hints now and then thrown out by Lord Vaversly, she found her presence was no longer desired by him— and had, therefore, proposed leav- ing them, and retiring to her own native village, where she had many friends yet remaining, and which was situated within a few miles of Mclbury Park. This pro* posal seemed exactly to meet the wishes of her exalted son-in-law ; wJio immedi- ately exerted himself to find a residence for her, such as was suited to the mother of Lady Vaversly. It was some time be- fore he met with one to his satisfaction ; which, however, he, at last effected— and having had a handsome income settled on her by Lord Vaversly, she took posses- sion of her new abode. D 3 54 THE ADULTERESS. In the whole of this transaction he had been actuated by motives purely selfish; for, as several of his acquaintance were likewise intimate in the family of Sir "William Maitland, they could not fail, when thev visited at the house of Lord Vaversly, to recognise in Mrs. Watkins, the late governess of his daughter. As long as she remained under the same roof with them, it was impossible, as be- ing his wife's mother, that she could be kept in the back-ground ; but, as his pride, on these occasions, was always severely wounded, he had been, for some time, se- cretly meditating her removal. And when, at last, from his altered behaviour, the proposal came from herself, he could not help betraying by his countenance, the joy it occasioned him — though, for his .own sake, he determined to allow her a sufficient income, to enable her to make an appearance, that would not disgrace the mother of his zvlfe. Between Lord Vaversly and his worthy THE ADULTERESS. 5.5 brother-in-law there existed no sort o^ intimacy ;— for the latter, perfectly free and independent, had no idea of submit- ting to the haughty manners of his titled relative— -so that when they now and then happened to meet, as he still, occasion- ally, visited his sister, the most perfect coolness was observed between them. Indeed, Lady Vaversly had received from her Lord several intimations of his wish- es, that she should deny herself whenever her brother called ; but these, as she ten- derly loved him, she resolved not to pay any attention to. To oblige him she now seldom went to Cheapside ; where her inclination, and affection for her bro- ther, would, otherwise, have induced her to be a frequent visitor : but to deny her- self, when he came to her house ; where, she could not but be sensible, that affec- tion for her could alone lead him, in de- fiance of the repulsive looks of her hus- band ; was, what she could not give her consent to; and was an unkindness she ■^ D 4 56 THE ADULTERES$. ^letermined never to be guilty of, unless absolutely compelled so to do. Lord Vaversly still fondly loved hi$ wife— yet he would have wished that all connection should have ceased between her and her relations ; — but, as every hint of this kind was received by her with nuich emotion, and evident distress of mind, he still permitted the intercourse, though much against his own inclina- tion. It had frequently occurred to him, that a journey to the continent would be no bad plan to effect a separation — where a few years residence might, probably, -abate the strong affection, which they now entertained for each other. At all ■events, one grand point v/ould be attain- ed ; for, it was not very likely that in a distant country, they should meet with any one, who was acquainted with the station of Lady Vaversly, prior to her majriage. This idea Jiad been floating in his mind, ft)r some time, when an in- THE ADULTERESS. $7 cident occurred, which determined him to put it into immediate execution. One evening, after dining at the Duke of Lancaster's, Lord and Lady Vaversly had accompanied the Duchess and her daughters to one of the lower boxes in Drury-lane Theatre. Between the Play and the Farce, the box-door was opened somewhat abruptly, and Lady Vaversly, who was seated in the front row, between the Duchess and one of her daughters, turning her head suddenly round, to see who entered, beheld the well-known countenance of her brother. "■ Ha ! Mary," said he, in his usual good Immoured manner— '* who would '^ have thought of seeing you here to- " night !" Then nodding, and in the same strain of easy familiarity, turning to his Lordship—'' How do you do, my *' Lord?"— — -Tiien again speaking to his sister, he asked her, " how long had they *'been come? for, added he, I never saw '* you, though between every aet I have D 5 58 THE ADULTERESS. ^' been standing up to look about me, un- ** til Eliza found you out, and said, she ** was positive it was you. So, I told her, *' I would e'en go and make myself sure " about it ; and I wanted her to come " down with me, and ask you how you ** did ; but I could not persuade her— *' however, you must not be offended — ** she desires her love to you. Though, ** to tell you the truth, she wanted me " not to come ; but no. no, madam, said '' I, if you don't like to go, I do — and, '* so good bye to you, for ten minutes or '*so.'* ** I hope she and the children are quite ** well ?" said Lady Vaversly. ** O ! as to the young ones, we left them ** all at home — but Madam Eliza there, ** has been scolding me ever since the " Play began, for laughing so unmerciful- ** ly at that droll fellow, Jack Bannister. ■^^ But deuce take it ! what do we come ** here for? — why to be merry— and I ** am determined to have my laugh out» THE ADULTERESS 59 *Mf I am not to enjoy myself, I might "as well stay at home." Lord Vaversly threw on him a scorn- ful glance, and stood ready to sink with vexation, at his thus familiarly addressing both himself and Lady Vaversly, in the presence of the noble ladies belonging to their party. His impatient, and haughty looks, were, however, unheeded by the person, at whom they were levelled — who still continued to address his conv^ersa- tion to his sister : whilst she, conscious of the effect this unexpected meeting would have upon her husband, sut in such a state of agitation, that she had scarcely power to answer the questions he put to her. '^ 1 don't know whether you can see ** Eliza, where you sit, Mary," continued he, ^' but, with your leave, Miss, (at the " same time^ leaning his liead forward be- '" tween Lady Angelina, and Lord Ya- " versly) I will just take a peep myseli"! " O, yes' there she is I — Look, Mary, D 6 60 THE ADULTERESS. ** just in the centre there ; up in the first *^ tier— Ah ! I see you, Madam, he went '* on, still stretching his head forward, and *' nodding to her with all his might.— *' Then again drawing himself hack, he ^^ begged Lady Angelina's pardon, by ** saying— I am afraid. Miss, I have in- ** commoded you; only I just wished to ** see if I could find out the box, where *' my wife and her friends are seated. Lady Angelina, who was a good na- tured, unaffected young woman, replied — *' not in the least, — Sir, and if it will be " any accommodation to you, we can *^ change places, if you please?" *' I am much obliged to you, Miss, I " am sure ; but 1 could not think of such " a thing— besides, I must be off in a few ** minutes. However, I thank you all " the same. Will you do me the favour '* to accept an orange ? Pray do, now ? I ** have got plenty in my pocket. Upon ** saying which, he immediately produced <* them, and offered one to each of the THE ADULTERESS, 6l '^ ladies. They all, however, declined ** his offered civility ; but, on his pres- *' sing them very earnestly, Lady Ange- *' lina and the Duchess, each accepted '' one." Lord Vaversly, in the mean while, had been regarding him with looks of haugh- ty displeasure, Avhich now rose to such a height, that he determined no longer to witness his impertinent familiarity : and upon his addressing the Duchess, and importuning her to accept his oranges, he darted upon him a look of fury, and exclaiming in a transport of rage— ^^ vul- ''gar fellow !" — instantly quitted the box, and rushed into the lobby. Some person standing in the door-way impeded his passage for a few moments ; and Wat- kins, who had not distinctly heard his words, said, '' did you speak to me, my '' Lord?" ** No, Su'," exclaimed Lord Vaversly, in a voice of the utmost rage and fury— and immediately pushing aside the object 6*3, THE ADULTERESS. that had impeded his departure, fle\T along the lobb}', with the air and appear- ance of a madman 1 ** What the deuce is tlie matter with ** your husband, Mary ?" said her bro- ther, *' ril be shot if I know Avhat his ** Lordship flew away so for ! He is gone "out, however. But, hark!-— 1 do really ** think that is the Overture, the music *' are striking up; and if so, I must be ** gone, too. Do you think it is, Ma'am ? *^ continued he, addressing the Duchess," ** I rather imagine it is, Sir ;" replied she— but turnin^x immediately towards Lady Yaversly, and observing the ex- treme paleness of her countenance, said, ** you are surely ill, my dear Lady Va- *' versly ; but don't alarm yourself; Lord ** Vaversly has, I dare say, merely taken ** the opportunity whilst your brother is ** here, to have a lounge in the lobby, ^* and will be back in a few minutes, I ** make no doubt." ** Why, what is the matter, Mary ?'* THE ADULTERESS. 65 enquired licr brother, aifectioiiately ; *' are you not well ? Don't frighten yoar- ** self about what I said, concerning my ** Lord. There is nothing the matter ** with him, I'll be bound ! — But, suppose, ** I go and see after him ? — I shall soon ** find him, I warrant you !" *' No, pray don't ;" said Lady Va- versly, faintly—'^ I had much rather you " would not. It is not altogether that, " continued she, almost breathless, it is ** only, perhaps, the heat that has over- ** come me." — For, having observed the look of rage throw^n on her brother by Lord Vaversly, as he so hastily quitted the box, she experienced a fresh emotion of terror, at the idea of their meetlns:, until her husband's passion had in some degree subsided. '' Well, well," returned Watklns, '' I '* will stay then till he returns — but I '* hope he will make haste though ; for, I ** shall like to see the Entertainment, now '* I am here— and thi3 does not seem to 64f THE ADULTERESS. ** be a good situation ; not half so good *' as our's up stairs. Come, Mary, added '^ he, tenderly — yon look better now ; " these fans are very useful at such places *' as these ; where, to be sure, it is in gene- *■ ral too warm to be agreeable. O ! there ** is my Lord, I see, within a box or two *'ofus; so, I will first beckon to him, " and then take myself off. Well^ good- *^ night, Mary : 1 am glad to see you are^ '* better. Good-night, Ma'am. Young *' ladies, I wish you both good-night.*' Then, after beckoning again to his Lord- ship, and calling out that he was going, to the great relief of his sister, lie left them, to join his own part3^ In a few minutes after his departure, Lord Vaversly returned. His counte- nance was still flushed wish resentment ; though he now evidently struggled to subdue his emotion, and converse with the Duchess without suffering it to ap- pear. He attempted a sort of apology 'for being so long a])sent, by alledging tlie THE ADULTERESS, 65 meeting with a friend in the lobby, who had been the means of his detention. But the person, to whom he conceived it necessary to make this apology, was not to be thus easily deceived. Knowing the haughty character, and hereditary pride of his Lordship, her Grace had no doubt as to the cause of his quitting the box so abruptly ; and she could not help feeling the greatest degree of pity for Lady Va- versly ; who, she thought, had paid dear- ly for her exaltation, if such was fre- quently his conduct towards her rela- tions. In the present instance, she saw not tlic least reason for his displeasure. Mr. Watkiiis, though of blunt manners, which, perhaps, would have been improved by a little polishing, had not done or said any thing that could be deemed either rude or vulgar : whilst the honest since- rity of his character, and the affection he displayed towards his sister, had rendered him of so much estimation in her eyes, S6 THE ADULTERESS. that she considered him as infinitely su- perior to his Lordship ; whose conduct upon this occasion, had so degraded him in her opinion, that she regarded him with a sensation nearly bordering upon contempt. Observing that Lady«Vaversly still ap- peared very pale, and much agitated, the Duchess good-naturedly proposed that they should return home, without waiting to seethe end of the Farce. Which propo- sal, meeting with a ready assent from the person it was intended to oblige, (who had sat in momentary expectation of see- ing her brother again enter the box to enquire after her) they soon quitted their station, and accompanied Lord Vaversly to the Anti-room ; where they seated themselves, whilst he went to see after the carriages. The Duchess pressed them to go back to her house, and take a sand- wich : but Lady Vaversly, whose spirits were coaipletely unattuncd to company, THE ADULTERESS. 67 pleaded her indisposition as a sufficient excuse : and the party, therefore, sepa- rated at the door of the Theatre, each returning in their own carriage to their respective homes. Mm W^ [ 68 } "■*% CHAP. III. If the principles of contentment are not T^ithln lis— th« height of station or worldly grandeur, will as soon add a cubit to a man's stature as to his happiness. SirRNi. X HE Duchess, whose rank in life, was far superior to that of Lord Vaversly, be- ing the daughter as well as the wife of a Duke, was a woman of strong under- standing, and of manners the most amia- ble : without the least tincture of that haughtiness, and unbecoming pride of famil}', which formed so prominent, and disgusting a feature in the character of his Lordship. IMeiit, in whatever station it might be found, was a sure passport to her esteem. And, havin«r met in Ladv THE ADULTERESS. 69 Vaversly, with much congeniality of dis- position, and general amiability of man- ners, she had, from their first introduc- tion, become greatly attached to her, and felt for her the sincerest friendship. Lord Vaversly, on the contrary, had never stood very high in her estimation ; for, though slie had never seen his conduct in so unamiable a point of view, as she had done this evening, yet, in her visits to Grosvenor Square, she had frequently been a witness to his haughty domineer- ing behaviour, both to his servants, and Lr.dy Vaversly ; whose mild and gcnllc manners seemed peculiarly unsuited to cope with the extreme violence of dispo- sition, which characterised her husband. She felt for her the greatest degree of pi- ty — and regretted that it was out of her power to afford her any amelioration of the unpleasant lot, which Providence had assigned her. Yet, how often, thought she, have I heard this very wo- man spoken of, as one of the most disi 70 THE ADULTERESS. tingulshed favorites of Fortune !—• Alas '! How little can be judged, by outward appearances of the happiness of others ! Could we, for a moment, search into the bosoms of many a one, whom we now consider as objects of envy, we should, perhaps, there lind so much secret grief, and real affliction of mind, as would teach us, to be more satisfied, and content- ed with pur own station ; and to impress upon our hearts a deeper sense of grati- tude to the Almighty, for the many bless- ings he allows us to possess, without re- pining fbr those, which his wisdom has tliought proper to deny. Whilst these ideas were passing through the nnnd of the Duchess, Lord Vaversly and his Lady were pursuing their way towards Grosvenor Square. When they had entered the carriage, a profound si- lence was observed, which neither party seemed disposed to interrupt. Lady Va- versly, whose spirits were much depressed by the events of the evening, now ven- THE ADULTERESS. 71 tured to indulge those tears, which she had, for some time, found it extremely painful to suppress; and whilst they chased each other down her clieeks, she awaited, in trembling expectation, the time when her husband would, most pro- bably, begin the conversation, by some violent expression of anger or resentment. Contrary to her expectation, however, the silence remained unbroken until they reached their own door. When the supper was concluded, at which still very little had been said, and the servants had withdrawn, Lord Va- versly suddenly broke from a fit of deep musing, and abruptly said — '' I have ** made up my mind to leave England. " The events of this evening have de- " termined me." ** To leave England !" exclaimed his wife, in the utmost surprise. ** Yes;" replied he, in a decisive tone. — ** It is a plan I have long had in contem- ** platioii ; — one, on which I have now 72 THE ADULTERESS, ** decidedly resolved — and which I shall " put into execution immediately." He then paused. — But finding Lady Vaversly made no reply, after a few moments continued—^' The conduct, which your ' brother thinks proper to adopt towards ^ me, in the presence of those, too, who ^ are even my superiors in rank, has de- ' termined me not to remain any longer, ^ Avliere I may be subject to the like im- ^ Dertinenl freedoms for the future. I ' thall, therefore, begin my journey, as * soon as I can conveniently arrange my * affairs." Lady Vaversly, whose tears now again trembled in her eyes, at last, ventured to enquire—'' How long he intended to be '' absent ?" '^ That is uncertain ;" he replied, '' and ^* must depend upon circumstances. J3ut " as I mean to take my whole family *' with me, I shall be in no great hurry ** to return." His wife already languid and dispirit- ed, had no power to express the various THE ADULTERESS, 75 feelings of emotion, which this unex- pected resolve of her husband had occa- sioned her. And, indeed, had she done so, it woukl have been to no purpose ; for she well knew, that when he had once made up his mind upon any subjects, all remonstrances, on her part^ would have been unavailing : as he never, at any time, could bear contradiction. She, therefore, merely expressed her astonish- ment at the suddenness of his resolution. " It may appear so to you ;" said he,— **' but, to me, such an idea has long been " familiar. And, as I am now, in a man- *' ner, compelled to adopt it, I shall lose *' no time, but shall begin the necessary " preparations to-morrow morning. Some ^' time will necessarily intervene, before ** I shall be able to bring my affairs into " that sort of arrangement, in which I "should wish them to be left; for^ I *^ may, perhaps, remain abroad some *^ years ; but I shall use the utmost dis- " patch, that not amoment may be lost,** VOL. I. £ tM 4 TH£ ADULTERESS. <( If we are to be so long absent," saicf Lady Vaversly, ** I should wish to see ** my mother previous to our leaving En- ** gland ; and, therefore, -I suppose, you " will have no objection to my paying her " a visit, before our departure takes *' place ?" . ** I do not see the necessity of it ;" re- plied her husband. ^' You can write, ** and inform her of our intention, to re- *' side for a few years on the continent ; ** which, I should think, would answer "just the same purpose." ** But, I should wish, likeM'ise," re- turned his wife, . ^' to take a personal ** leave of my dear Miss Maitland ; for I *^ should ill requite the kindness and at- " tention, that both her, and her family, ** have ever shewn me, were I to quit En- ** gland for so long a period, without *' once bidding them farewel." *' Why, yes; — "observed his Lordship, — *' I think it will be proper that you should ** see Miss Maitland, prior to to the com- THE ADULTERESS. 75 ^^ mencement of our journey ; and, there- ** fore, whilst Nelson is arranging his ** accompts, we may, perhaps, take a " trip to Mel bury ; and then, you know, *' if you wish it, you can visit your mo* ^' ther at the same time, all under one.*' Accordingly, in a few days, they left town for Melbury Park ; where they met with an affectionate welcome from both Miss Maitland, and her father; who were extremely surprised at being informed of the occasion of their present journey* Miss Maitland was more particularly concerned at the information ; for be- tween Lady Vaversly and herself had sub- sisted the most perfect friendship ; and she could not avoid feeling the utmost regret, at the near prospect of so long a separation. On the following day she accompanied Lady Vaversly to the residence of her mother, Mrs. Watkins ; M'hich was only a few miles distant from Melbury ; whom she so earnestly entreated to make one of e2! 76 THE ADULTERESS. their party, during her daughter's stay in that part of the country, that she pre- pared herself to return with them, for a few days, to the hospitable abode of Sir WiUiam. . This invitation of Miss Maitland's, was highly gratifying to both mother and daughter — as it was the last opportunity they would, most probably, have, of be- ing so much together, for many years ; — though, the present pleasure was embit- tered by the idea of the long, long separa- tion, that was so soon to take place. Time flew rapidly ; and the dreaded moment, at last, arrived ; when she was to separate from friends she so fondly loved. She could scarcely acquire suffi- cient resolution to say farewel ; and re- mained lingering, and hesitating, until Lord Vaversly entered the room a second time, to say all was ready — and in a tone of voice, too famihar to her, to be misun- derstood, sternly added, ' ' Lady Vaversly, " the carriages have been waiting nearly •PHE ADULTERESS. 77 •"^ this hoar. "—Her heart was too full foi utterance , she once more pressed the hands of her friends, and assisted by her husband, immediately entered the car- riage. " This is absolutely childish !"— ex- claimed he, on perceiving she was weep- ing. *' To see you, any one would sup- ** pose that something dreadful indeed ** must have happened to you. Do, for " Heaven's sake, try to conquer this ridi- " culous nonsense ; for, what can you •* have to grieve about ? ** Excuse me for a few moments," said she, ** I shall be better presently. But, ** you might naturally suppose, that I ** could not part with' my mother, for so ** long a period, perhaps, for ever ! with- ** out feeling some degree of sorrow — i^for ." " Nonsense !" interrupted he, "cannot *' you write to each other ? — One would *"' imagine you w^as going into some de- *' sart region, where you were never to e3 •78 THE ADULTERESS. '* see the face of any human creature. ** A parcel of stuff ! — Do, pray let me ** hear no more of it." When they arrived in town, Lady Va- Versly had some difficulty in persua:ed to take the charge of her. The child, however, be- ing nearly twelvemonths old, did not easily accommodate itself to this abrupt separation, from tli€ nurse it had been so long accustomed to ; but deprived of its proper nutriment, and terrified at the sight of a stranger, had seldom ceased screaming, from the time they had quit- ted London. When with its mother it was, in some degree, pacified ; and, in a few days it appeared sufficiently recover- ed, for them to continue their journey to Paris. Where, however, tliey had not been settled more than a week, when the E 4 W THE ADULTERtSS. poor little infant was seized with strong convulsions, and breathed its last sigh in the arms of its afflicted mother. Lord Vaversly, too, was much affected at the loss of his little girl— though his sorrow was much alleviated by the re- flection, that his darling boy was still left him. L5dy Vaversly, likewise, felt grateful to Providence for the blessing that still remained to her in her son, yet, as her children had been equally dear to her, she mourned for her little girl, with the fondest maternal affection. In the course of a few months their loss was, in some degree, supphed, by the birth of another child, a daughter. This event had detained them in Paris, sometime longer than they would other- wise have remained there ; but when her Ladyship \»as sufficiently recovered to undertake the fatigue of travelling, they quitted France, and pursued their route, throusfh the Netherlands, and United Provinces, and then took the way to- wards Germany. As they passed along. THE ADULTERESS. 81 they stopt at each of the principal cities, and places of note ; at some of which they would remain for a month or two ; so that nearly two years had elapsed since their first departure from England, be- fore they reached Vienna : where, it was the intention of Lord Vaversly, at last, to ^K their abode. Here, therefore, they had remained for several years ; but the health of Lady Vaversly beginning to decline, and strong symptoms appearing of an approaching consumption, the Physician had recom- mended a milder air; and mentioned Montpellier as the place where it was likely to be found. The whole family,, therefore, in- a short time afterwards quit- ted Vienna, and travelled by easy stages to Montpellier, where, in a few weeks her health had so much improved, and the softness of the air had been of such beneficial effect, that she had written to her friend, Miss Maitland, with Avhom. she had kept up a regular correspondence E 5 82 THE ADULTERESS. ever since their separation, and who liad been, like herself, for some time, in a very ill state of health— and her account of Montpellier had, at last, determined that lady to undertake the journey, upon Avhich she had been so long undecided. The arrival of Miss Maitland at Rai- mondi, was a source of much joy to Lady Vaversly ; though she was extreme- ly shocked to observe the alteration which a few years had made in the appearance of her friend. J 11 health, or some other cause, had chased from her countenance the roses, that had once adorned it ; and they had now gi- ven place to such a sickly paleness, that the bloom of youth had entirely va- nished. Sir William Maitland had been dead some years ; but his daughter, to whom he had bequeathed a very large property, had still continued to reside in the pa- ternal mansion, with her only brother (now Sir William Maitland) and his family, THX ADULTERESS. ^ The present Sir William, whose dis- position, and amiable manners^ strongly resembled those of his sister, had mar- ried a lady of high birth, and large fortune ; and was in a few years blest with several children. Yet, with all these apparent advantages, he had failed to find that happiness in his married state, which he had fondly flattered him- self, he should have been able to attain. His wife was gay, and volal:ile : he steady and domestic. All her pleasuies were to be sought for out of doors : his, to be found only at home. Such a contrariety of disposition between husband and wife, could not be productive of much felicity; ami, therefore, after many struggles for victory, Sir William,. C who was naturally of a good-natured, easy disposition) suf- fered her to have her own way ; and determined, himself,* to seek in the com- pany of his sister, and by attending to the education of his children, for that happiness, which he had failed to findy z6 84 TM£ ADULTERESS. in the life of dissipation he had foilowed since his marriage, merely to oblige their mother. After their arrival at Raimondi, Miss Maitland, and little Emily had remained for several weeks with Lord and Lady Vaversly, before a suitable residence could be found for them. At lengthy however, this was effected, by the de- parture of a gentleman and his wife, who had been residents there, for the aame purpose as themselves— in search of health— and who were now suddenly cal^ led to England, by the death of a near relation. A chateau which they had inhabited at Raimondi, was now to be lett ; and, though it was not exactly the kind of residence, she would have cho- sen ; yet she was so eager to be settled in a house of her own, that she over- looked some objections, that might have been made to it, and took possession as soon as possible. The chateau was very ancient, and THE ADULTERESS. 85 somewhat out of repair; but tlie situ- ation was truly delightful. Being on an eminence^ from the front windows might be seen an extensive, and variegated land- scape, composed of vineyards, and olive grounds ; beyond which, rose an im- mense forest of high trees ; over whose tops might be perceived the distant sum- mits of one chain of the Pyrenees. The gardens were both extensive, and beau- tiful : in some parts overshadowed by lofty trees ; in others, highly adorned by shrubs, whose odoriferous blossoms con- tinually perfumed the air— while the whole was bounded by the waves of the Mediterranean, which murmering along the shore, dashed, at intervals, their white spray over a low wall, that ter- minated these enchanting grounds. Time wore away —and no tidings ha- ving been received from the landlady at Dieppe, that might lead to a discovery of the connexions of her little protege*^,, Miss Maitlaud now began to consider. S6 THE ADULTERTS*. her as her own child, and prepared to give her an education, such as she would have thought necessary, had she been so in reality. For this purpose, tliercfore, she placed her as a day-boarder in the convent of St. Margerite, which- was a very short distance from the cha- teau, and where Olivia Vavcr^ily, who was about two years older than Emily^ had already been for some time. Here, they would not only acquire the Ian* guage of the country in perfection, but would, likevv^ise, be instructed by the nuns, in all kinds of iine works ; and- those accomplishments that might be deemed necessary : whilst, at the same time, they would have frequent op- portunities of being also instructctl in English by Mr. Grenfell, Lord Vaversly's chaplain, who was, likewise, tutor to his son. Arthur Vaverst}^, who was nearly three years older than his sister, was now a fine boy about eleven years of age. It THE ADULTERESS. 87 M^as the intention of his father that he should remain with them until he had attained his sixteenth year ; and tliat he should then go to England, in order to spend the usual time at either Oxford, or Cambridge, Though they inhabited separate houses, Lady Vaversly and Miss Maitland spent much of their time together. Each had felt the reviving influence of the salubri- ous air, which they now inhaled, and were much mended in their general health; though Lady Vaversly still, at times, exhibited many symptons, indi- cative of an approaching consumption. The whole party frequently visited Mont- pellier; where Lord Vaversly often met with persons whom he had been acquaint- ed with in London. These, Avho \vere for the most part of high rank, he would invite to his Villa at Raimondi ; where they were entertained in a princely style; so, that they were seldom long without visitors.^ They had, likewise, made ac- 88 THE ADULTERESS. quaintance with a few of those who re- sided in the immediate vicinity of Raimondi ; but these were very few— for only otie or two could be found wha were possessed of the necessary passports to the favour and attention of his Lord- ship -^namely, high rank, or illustrious- birth. These, however, were not the only re- quisites to obtain the esteem of Miss Maitland, who admired virtue and merit, wherever they were to be found. She had therefore, made an acquaintance with a family, who, having neither birth or rank to recommend them to the notice of his Lordship, had been overlooked by him, until the arrival of Miss Maitland — who found Monsieur and Madame St. Valery, very worthy people^ and being next door neighbours, they were soon. on a footing of intimacy. [ 89 I CHAP. IV. This is the place——.— What might this be ? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire^ And aery tongues, that syllable men^s names. MiLTOJK. i.\jLISS Maitland had been a very few months settled in her new abode, before a disturbance arose among the servants, that the chateau was haunted ; and their terror upon this occasion so far got the better of them, that they feared to move alone from one room to another. This idea had partly arisen from the ancient appearance of the Chateau; but had received additional conviction from an account given by Madeline, a girl of the village, who had been hired to attend 90 THE ADULTERESS^. Upon Emily, that a murder had heen com- mitted there, nearly a century before ; and that the perturbed spirit of the de- parted, was still frequently to be seen traversing the gardens in the night. And that when at any time the Chateau was to be lett — which was very often the case^ as no one in the neighbourhood would have any thing to do with it ;^-— lights had been then frequently seen through the windows, particularly about sun-set. That love of the marvellous which so generally prevails among the lower classes* induced the servants to listen, with great attention, to this story of Madeline's ; who added, as a still further confirma- thon of the truth of what she had been re- lating, that her father had once seen it, with his own eyes, standing under a tree in the garden, during the time, the last family had rented it. Some of the servants wTre for having the aftair mentioned to their Mistress im- mediately—but Susan, who knew very THE ADULTERESS, 91 well Miss Maitland's ideas upon such subjects, (hav^ing attended lier person from her infancy) persuaded them to de- fer doing so, unless they had something fnore to speak of, than mere report ; for, to that only, she was sure her Mistress would pay no attention whatever. Miss Maitland, however, soon per- ceived that s<5mething unusual was the matter. If she rang the bell in the even- ing for any of the servants — it was along time, perhaps, before any one would ap- pear ; at last, after a second summons, probably, one of them would enter the room with a countenance as pale as death, and almost breathless, stammer out some apology for not coming sooner, without appearing to be. conscious what it was they were saying. She had several times observed thi$ sort of conduct Avithout speaking of it, until one evenino-as slie waso'ivino- some dnections to one of the maid-servants, who had just answered the summons of 9^ THE ADULTERESS. her bell, she heard something rustling outside the door, and desired the girl would see if any one was there. Instead of complying with the request of her Mistress, the girl turned very pale, and was quickly retreating from that part of the room, in which the door was situated ; but, almost immediately recollecting her* self, she answered, in a sort of hesitating way— " that it was only two of the other ** maids, who were waiting for her in the ^* passage." *' Waiting for you in the passage ?"— said Miss Maitland ; ^' cannot you find ^* the way back then into the kitchen by ** yourself, Mary ?" *^ O, yes; Ma'am— but there are so '* many long passages, between one floor *' and another in this great house, and it " all looks so unked-Hke, that I just •* asked Ann and Madeline to step along ** with me, when the bell rang." '* What can you possibly be afraid of, ** Mary?" said her Mistress — "It is very fllE ADULTERESS, 93 *^ silly of you to give way to these ridicu- " lous fears. It is very good-natured, I *' think in Ann and Madeline, to hu-^ " mour you in such nonsense." '' O, Ma'am !" said Mary, '' it is not *^ only me that is frightened— -for, 1 often *' do the same for them." " But what is it, you are all so much " afraid of?" enquired Miss Maitland. " Why, Ma'am," said Mary, '' glad of " an opportunity to disclose this import- ** ant secret, we have all wished to tell "you about it, but, somehow, we (h'd ** not know how to bring it about— but ** we have found out, that this very " house we now live in is haunted, and ** has been so, for more than a hundred *' years." " Ridiculous !" cried Miss Maitland*— ** who could possibly put such an idea in- *' to your heads ^" '^ O, Ma'am !" said Mary, very seri- ously, ^' Madehne knows all about it ; 94 THE ADULTEaESS. *' for her father has actually seen the " ghost himself." " Pray, let nie hear no more of such ''idle talk," said Miss Maitland— " for " I shall he very angry with Madeline, if •^ she propagate.-) such silly stories; which, *' you may rely upon it, have no founda- " dation whatever." *^ O, Ma'am, but this is all very true— '* for, else you know ]\Ia'am, how could ** Madeline's father have seen it ; which, *' he says, he would take his oath he did, '* before the blessed virgin, whoever she *Ms — but, it is somebody, I know, they '• would not tell a falsehood to, for the '' whole world." *' I must talk to Madeline about this, ** myself," said i\Iiss Maitland ; ** at pre- *' sent, I am otherwise engaged : but to- ** morrow morning 1 will hear what she " has to say upon this subject. In the ** mean time, let me tell you, you may ** dismiss your fears, for, depend upon it, *' you will see no ghost. THE ADULTERESS. 95 Marv, however, left the room with a very serious countenance ; at th-e same time wonderinc^ how her Mistress couid be so unbeheving; or so courageous, as to sit in a great room all alone, after hearino: that the house was haunted. '* I ** could not do it," said she to the other servants, as they went together towards the kitchen, ** if I was ever such a great *'Jady; and, who knows but she may *^ live to repent it1 For my part. 1 wish '* we were all back a2:ain in England ! for ** that is the best place after all." This was, however, warmly contested by Ma- deline ; who v^as as loud in the praise of her native country, as the other servants were of theirs : so, that before they had reached the kitchen, a dispute had arisen, which banished all thoughts of the ghost, for that time, at least. On the following morning, wlien Ma- deline came back, from her usual walk to the Convent with little Emily, slie en- tered the parlour, in obedience to tiie 95 rME ADUlTIRESS. commands of her Mistress ; who said, with rather more sterness than was usual in her manner towards the servants in general ; *' what is this story, Madehne, *' that you have been teUing the girls " down stairs, about a ghost ? which has ** been productire of such serious mis- ** chief, that they are now afraid of mov- ** ing about the house, but in a crowd. ** Pray, what is it all about?" *' Hply virgin ! Mauame ; — what have ** you never heard about the Chateau's "being haunted? — Ah! it is all very ^ true, for all that— my poor father saw *' it, himself, in the garden, with his *^ own eyes." ** But v/hat was it, he did see there?" asked Miss IMaitland. *' O ! the very ghost, itself I— But, if ** you will permit, I will tell you all about ^*it?" *' Well, let me hear this wonderful ** story, then ;" said her Mistress, smil- ing. THE ADULTERESS. QT ** Why, you must know, Madame, '^ there was once a murder committed in *^ this very Chateau; but, I hope you ** won't be frightened ?" " Never fear;" said Miss Maitland — ** I am not very easily alarmed. Go on."' *' Well then, Madame, as I was saying, *^ there was sad doings in this very Cha- *' teau, about a hundred yeai's ago— and, '* ever since, it has been troubled with ** the ghost of the lady, who was then *' killed by her oxvn father ; as some say — ** but there are others who say it was not *' her father, but her husband, who did ** this wicked action; — but one or the " other it certainlv was, so it does not " much matter which." ** And is this all the authority you ** have for asserting that the Chateau is " visited by a ghost ?" enquhed Miss Maitland. " O, no; Madame.— the ghost has of- »* ten been seen wandering about ths gar- VOL. I, p 98 THE ADULTERESS. " den at night-fall ; and, what is very ** odd, it was never seen but when the *' Chateau has been inhabited, and then ''it walks very often. But though the " ghost never appears itself when the ** Chateau is to be let, yet several of the *' folks in our village have seen the lights, '^ which are always in the windows, par- '^ ticularly about sun-set ; so that for cer- " tain the ghost is at those times in the " rooms, which makes every body cau- ** tious how they pass it after dai*k. No- '* body as knows any thing about it, will ** ever live in it : you know, Madame, *' they would be very foolish if they did, '^ So, it is often shut up : only now '* and then when it is taken by an En- ** ghsh family, like yours as I may say, ** who knows nothing about the lights, " or the -ghost, which is always to be *' seen, wandering about the gardens af- *' ter night-fall." " But, if no one would venture near ** the Chateau after sun-set, how could THE ADUtTERESS. " they possibly see a ghost in the garden? '' after iiight-fall ?" '' O ! the ghost never walked in the ** garden but when the Chateau had *' people Hving in it. But the hghts in *^ the windows were to be seen at all ** times, inhabited or not inhabited." " It was a social ghost, however," said Miss Maitland ; *^ It loved company, it ** seems. But, pray, how came your fa- *' ther to be acquainted with it, so fami- " liarly?" *' Holy virgin 1 Madame —he would ^' not have been familiar with it, for the '* world ! though he saw it sure enough ; * * as plain as I now see you. It was one ** night as he was returning rather later ^* than usual with his boat, (you know, ** I believe, Madame, that he is a Fish- ** erman) and as hewas passing just under ** the wall of your garden, along the ** shore, he all of a sudden bethought * ' himself, what a fool he had been to ^* come so close to that dismal place. So, F 2 100 THE ADULTERESS, ''with that, he stood up immediately, *^ and began to push off a Httle further *^ from the shore ; but, on turning round ** his head for that purpose, what should ^' he see, but the very ghost itself, all in ** white, standing stock still, under a *' large tree in this very garden!— The *' holy virgin sure inspired him with cou- " rage, for he watched it for some time— ^' but, at last, seeing it began to move, *' you know, Madame, it would have been *' madness to have stopt any longer— *^ for, as my mother said, when he told us *' about it, how wrong it was to watch " the motions of a spirit— so, he rowed '* away as fast as ever he could ; and took ** care never to let his boat go so near to ''that unlucky place again."' *^ And how long is this ago ?'' enquired her IMistress. *' About two years, as far as I can re- " collect ; but I know it was whilst the '* last family rented the Chateau* A " Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, from England." THE ADULTERESS lOI " And, were they ever infoniied of this ** circumstance ?" ** O, yes; Madame— but the English ** are very courageous people, I suppose ; ** for they took no account of it at all. ** Nay, they wanted us to believe that it *' was Mrs. Wilson my father had seen in ** the garden. But, holy virgin I it was '* three times as tall, my father says, as *• she was— and its face was the exact co- ** lour of a corpse ; for, it was so moon- ** light that he saw it as plain as if it had ** been noon-day. It was very lucky that *M was not with him in his boat; for, it " would have been my death, for certain ! *' I know, I should have died with fright *^ upon the spot at once." " And yet, Madeline," said Miss Mait- land, *' I have not the least doubt, but ** that the figure seen by your father was *' that very Mrs. Wilson you speak of; " and if he had not been so powerfully ** under the dominion of superstition and *' terror at the time, he would, most pro- F 3 102 THE ADULTERESS. " bably, in a few minutes have been ** made sensible of this himself. Recol- *' lect, how often I am alone in the gar- ** den, of an evening— and yet, I never " saw or heard any thing of this kind to *' alarm me : and, I dare say, yCU cannot *' mention any other person, except you'f '* father, who has.*' **AVhy, no, Madame, I cannot, to be *' sure, say, as I know any body that has " absolutely seen the ghost themselves— ** but then the lights ~-0 ! I know a vast " many who has seen them. And once— *' O ! I shall never forget it ! I happened *'to see them myself: when they looked ** for all the world like a grand illumina- ** tion." *' As to the lights, Madeline, I can ** easily elucidate that mystery. —You '* say they have never been seen but at ** the hour of sun-set ?" *' No, Madame; never.'* ** Then you may depend upon this as a ** fact, Madeline— that what you have ob- THE ADULTEllESSr 105 ** served in the windows of an evening •* resembling an illumination, is nothing *^ more than a very common effect of the ** setting sun, gleaming through two *^ windows that happen to be placed ex- ** actly opposite to each other : as, you ** may observe is the case, in several of ** the rooms in this Chateau." ** O, Madame ! — but the sun could '* never make all them lights as I saw in ** the windows one evening, for, it look- ** ed, somehow, all on fire." *' Yes ; that is very possible. It will ** sometimes have that effect. But, if ** you come to me this evening, at sun- " set, and bring the other maids with '* you, I have no doubt, but, that I shall ** be able to convince both them and you, ** that your fears have been without the ** least foundation ; and that you have ** been alarming yourself, and others, ** without the smallest real cause what- " ever. And, in the mean time, my good *' girl, you may make yourself very easy, F 4 104 THE ADULTERESS. " for the Almighty, who alone orders ** every thing, is too wise, and too good, " to permit the dead to re-appear upon " earth, merely to alarm and terrify the ** innocent. The guilty, indeed, may have '^just cause to tremhle :~but, rest as- ** sured, that whilst we behave as wc ** ought to do in our situations in life, ** whatever they may be ; and fulfil the ** various duties belonging to them with *^ the strictest integrity, never doing an ** injury to any one, but seeking to do " them every kindness which lies in our "power; we may rely upon the good- *^ ness of God, and fearlessly commit ** ourselves to his protection. And, de- ** pend upon it, that he will never suffer ** us to be needlessly, or wantonly alarm- ^' ed, if we will but place our trust and '* confidence in him. — I hope, therefore, '' Madeline, that what I have said will " irduce you to dismiss your fears, and *' that I shall hear no more of this silly *' tale of a ghost. You won't forget to THE ADULTERESS 105 " come to me in the evening, as I told *' you ; and I will^ then, shew you^ what '^ slight circumstances will sometimes *^ alarm the fearful and timid." Madeline was. a simple, but good-heart- ed girl, who might as easily be led one way as another. Credulous in the ex- treme, she had as firmly believed the story, she had related of the ghost ; as, she was now almost as easily convinced, from what her Mistress had said, that the whole was without any foundation. She had some difficulty, however, in per- suading the other maids to be of her opi- nion — though, it was agreed by all, that if their Mistress could elfectually prove, (whicii, however, was much doubted)' that the lights were only occasioned by the setting sun, why, then, perhaps, (though they did not see how she could be ever able to prove that) it might pos- sibly have been the lady who was mistaken for the ghost— though, they did not se^,- how she could know any thing about f5 106 tHE ADULTERESS. what had happened before she came into them parts; not if she was ever such a wise woman. The promised elucidation was, how- ever, of necessity suspended, until the next evening, by the unexpected arrival of Lord and Lady Vaversly to tea : but, on the following one, Miss Maitland had the pleasing satisfaction of, effectually, convincing the servants, that the lights which had appeared so alarming to their disordered fancy, were nothing more, as she had previously predicted, than the setting sun gleaming through two win- dows exactly parallel with each other, and which, consequently, reflected a double illumination ; so, that at a casual glance, it appeared very similar to a number of lamps placed in the interior of the apart- ments. Miss Maitland now trusted that she had effectually set aside all their terrors and alarms upon this subject, and that they would, for the future, be ashamed THE ADULTERESS. 107 of confessing that they entertained any, if, even, they were simple enough so to do. But the fears of superstition are not so easily allayed ; for " trifles light as "air, are confirmation strong." Thus, though fully made sensible of their folly in regard to the lights, which now ap- peared perfectly clear to every one of them —yet, they were by no means satis- fied, or convinced, concerning the figure that had been seen in the garden : but, as no report had ever prevailed, that the ghost had been seen in the interior of the Chateau, they comforted themselves with the idea, that its wanderings were con- fined to the garden : where, they deter- mined never to venture of an evening, if they could possibly avoid it. The health of Lady Yaversly, which, on her first arrival at liaimondi, had con- siderably amended, had now been again for the last few months gradually declin- ing. She wished much to return to Eng- land, that she might see her relations F 6 108 THE ADULTERESS. once more, and breathe her last sigh in her native country. This, however, was not attended to by his Lordship, wlio had for some time had in view a journey to Italy ; which, he really thought would prove of great seivice to her. Accus- tomed to consider his will as a law, from which there \vas no a])peal ; and too ill and languid to contend with the violence of his disposition, she gave up her own ^vishes, and with them all hope of ever seeing England again — and with a heavy heart ^*ave her servants the necessarv or- dcrs, to begin the preparations for their journey to Italy. Miss Maitland had several times heard Lord Vaversly speak of a future journey, southward, but was surprised, when she called at the villa, one morning, to find the time was already fixed for their set- ting off. — On entering their usual sit- ting-room, she found Lady Vaversly weeping, with an open letter lying in her lap; and on Miss Maitland's affectionate THE ADULTERESS. lOQ enquiry, of, " what was the" matter r" she rephcd — ^^O! it is only a letter from *^ England, which ought rather to give ** me joy than sorrow; hut my spirits *^ are, of late, so much weakened, and, I ** hav^e now so httle prospect of ever see- " ing England again, or of meeting my ^^ beloved mother, that I am unusually '^ unnerved and depressed this morning." She then informed her friend of their proposed journey, and mentioned the time when it w^as to take place ; but did not express any wish, that Miss Mait- land should accompany them, for, though it was one of the first wishes of her heart, she feared to give her the invitation, without the previous approbation of her husband. • Lord Vaversly, however, came in soon afterwards in high good humour, and without appearing to notice the evident depression of his wife, spoke of their ap- proaching journey, with much seeming pleasure, and warmly pressed Miss Mait- 110 THE ADULTERESS. land to make one of the party. ^^ Do, *■ continued he, we shall travel by very ** easy stages, for the better accommoda- '* tioii of Lady Vaversly; and, I know, *' the change of air, will be of infinite '* service to you both. We have now *^ been nearly three years at Raimondi, ** and require a little variation in the ** scene." Miss Maitlaiid, after a little consider- ation, agreed to accompany them : which afforded the greatest satisfaction to Lady Vaversly ; who had deeply regretted the idea of being obliged to separate from the only intimate friend she had ; and one, who had always conducted herself to- wards her with the affection of a sister. His Lordship then proceeded to say, that he should still keep on the villa at Raimondi ; and advised Miss ]\Iaitland ta do the same:— for, as the time of their absence would be a matter of uncertain- ty, they might, perhaps, if they gave up the habitations they now tenanted, find THE ADULTERESS. ill some difficult}^ at their return, in meet- ing with any others likely to suit them. Miss jNIaitlancl perfectly agreed in this opinion ; and then told them the history of the late disturbance in her household ; and, of the pains she had taken to con- vince them that their fears had been groundless: which, added she, *^I really *^ believe, 1, at last, effectually accom- ** plished." ** You will excuse me," cried Lord Vaversly, '^ If I say— that I think, you ** gave yourself a vast deal of unnecessary " trouble ; and, was far more condes- " cending than there was any occasion " for. Had my servants thought proper '* to conduct themselves in such aridicu- " lous manner, I should very soon have *' commanded them to silence : but, I " should never have troubled myself *' about any fears they chose to indulge, " any further, than to insist upon it, that *' they never kept me waiting one mo- 112 THE ADULTERESS. *' mcnt, when they heard the summons '^ofrny bell." '* You mio:ht not have found this " SO ea:>y as you imagine ;" said i\Iiss Maitland, '' at least, I experienced some *' dii^iculty;" but wishing to change the- subject, as his Lordship seemed getting into his usual haughty strain, she asked some further cjuestions relative to therr proposed journey, and soon afterwards took her leave. The day was sultry ; and when she ar- rived at the Chateau, taking out her netting-box, she seated herself at an open lattice, with the intention of finishing a purse, she liad liad foj;; sometime in hand : but the heat w^as so intense, and feeling faint and languid after her morn- ing's ramble, she placed it again in the box, and threw herself on a sopha to rest. A few minutes, however, relieved her of the faintness that had oppressed her; and, disliking to be unemployed, her eye agaia THE ADULTERESS. 113 glanced towards the netting-box ; when she chanced to recollect a paper, she had found in one of the drawers of the Cha- teau, that had some French verses written on it, and which she had at the time placed in her pocket-book, that at some future opportunity, she might find amuse- ment in translating them. A quiet em- ployment of this nature, seemed exactly suited for a day of such extreme heat, and she, therefore, endeavoured to be- guile the time by rendering the lines into English verse. After some time she suc^ ceeded, and the translation appeared as follows : EVENING. A SONNET. Kow evening cc^mes, whose mild and soothing poWV, Will oft lost comfort to the breast impart ; For at this tranquil, still, and pcacefiil hour, A pcusivo calmness steals upon the heart. 114 THE ADULTERESS, This life's tumultuous scenes all disappear, We view no more the storms that wreck'd our peace Our thoughts are centre'd in a higher sphere. Where all our woes, and all our sorrows cease. A pensive, pleasing charm perrades the soul, Whilst on the gilded clouds we fix our view j Along in silent majesty they roll, But soon they fade, and quickly change their hue. So in this world, the fairest prospects fade. When smiling Health withdraws her cheering aid. April 25. These lines so congenial to her own feelings, and ideas, introduced a pensive turn of mind, to which the oppressive heat not a little contributed ; and her memory reverted to past scenes, which she had long been vainly endeavouring to forget ; and which had been the origi- nal cause of her own loss of health. Pursuing a train of melancholy reflec- tions, which this subject never failed to THE ADULTERESS. 115 introduce, she remained until the return of little Emily from the convent ; whose entrance, with the rumpled half of a newspaper in her hand, and a smile upon her countenance, aroused her from the sad reveriC; in which she had been in- dulging. Emily tripped gaily towards her bene- factress, and putting the paper into her lap, said— ^^ I know you love to read in ** the newsn2r>^;« all about England, and ** so I have brought you a bit of one." " Thank you, my dear ;— but who ** gave it you? How did you come " by it ?" " O ! why, Olivia Vaversly's work ** was wrapped up in it, in the morning ; " and so, when sister Agatha took it out '^ of the paper, I asked her if I might ** have it? — and, she said— yes, if 1 liked. '* O ! you don't know what a good-na- " tared creature sister Agatha is ! and ** so Olivia says. For some of the nuns 116 THE ADULTERESS. V ** are dreadful cross ! and as stately and " as formal as the Abbess herself; and ** she, I am sure, nobody likes." ** That is a sad thing, too f said Miss Maitland. '' One seldom meets with a ** person, who is so unfortunate as to be " universally disliked." Then taking up the paper^t and examining the date, she found it was nearly seven years old : and feeling a sensation of disappoint- ment, she threw it on the table, and rang the bell for tea. The child appeared evidently cha- grined, and could scarcely refrain from tears. Miss Maitland, however, instant- ly divining the cause, told her— that she hoped to have it read to her after tea, by her little afiectionate Emily ; as she wished much to hear what progress she had made lately in reading English. Smiles now once more brightened the face of Emily ; which harl been cloudepect minutely, the va- riety of beautiful paintings, with which the numerous churches and palaces every THE ADULTERESS. 131 ■where abound. They were, likewise, so fortunate, as to be there at the festival in honour of St. Ranieri, which happens but once in three years ; when the w-hole city, including the three bridges, is illumina- ted in such a style of splendour, as to form a spectacle not only perfectly novel to the eye oF an English traveller, but, likewise, one, that is truly grand and beautiful. From risa they proceeded directly to- wards Florence ; where it w^as proposed that tliey should take up their residence for some time, as the climate of Tuscany appeared to have such beneficial effects on tlie health of Lady Vav^ersly. Hi- therto she had suffered no inconvenience of fatigue from her journey ; but, on the contrary, seemed to gather strength dai- ly ; and she was now altogether so much better, since she had inhaled the soft air of Italy, that her friends entertained the most sanguine hopes, that it would elfcct her complete restoration. c 6' 132 THE ADULTERESS. Though they travelled only a few miles each day, not one of the party could find thejourney tedious; for the road, was, in most parts, tolerahly good, and the scenery on all sides so romantically beau- tiful, and affording such an endless va- riety, that it was impossible not to ex- perience the most exquisite feelings of de- light. Sometimes the road wound at the foot of a mountain, clothed with vine- yards, and interspersed with cottages ; and not unfrequently with villa's and Convents, whose spires added to the pic- turesque beauty of the scene— w^hilst at others, it lay through the valleys ; whose pleasant villages had so much to attract the lovers of nature, that our traveller* would here frequently alight from their carriasfes, and wander over these enchant- / ing scenes. In these rambles they were particularly struck by the beauty, and fanciful attire of the peasant girls, whose elegance of manner, so different from persons of the THE ADULTERESS. 135 same class in England, could not fail to excite their admiration and surprise. With beauty of countenance, and man- ners, that would have graced a drawing- room, they would advance, and oifer seats, and refreshments to our wandering party. Which, not unfrequently, were accepted. For, during their journey, they were several times regaled at the door of a Tuscan cottage, (which is generally over-shadowed with vines,) whose inha- bitants seemed particularly w^arm-hearted and friendly; and to be highly gratified when any traveller will partake of their rustic fare. The men were not only hos- pitable, but highly intelligent for their humble situation; which, together with the fascinating beauty of the females, ren- dered them so agreeable, that our travel- lers frequently quitted them with reluc- tance. A continued succession of beautiful prospects, varied with almost every kind of romantic scenery — sometimes shewing 134 THE ADULTERESS. tlie bold features of nature, but more fre- quently exhibiting' its more softened beauty — engaged their attention, until they reached Florence, wiiich stands on a luxuriant and extensive plain, sur- rounded by the Appenines. Here, as it was their intention to remain: some time, they hired a villa in the environs of the city, not choosing to reside for so long a period at an hotel. The vilhi was pleasantly situated upon an eminence ; and from its windows might be seen a fertile valley, beyond which, arose a chain of mountains, dot- ted with villa s belonging to the Tuscan nobles, with some ruins of ancient castles, which added grandeur, as well as beauty to the view. In this open situation, it was also much cooler than in the midst of the city, whcr.^ the heat was at times ' excessive ; and, though they were, by this time, somewhat inured to the un- common warmth of the climate, yet they feared to encounter the riolence of it— THE ADULTERESS. 13^ which must necessarily be more oppres- sive in the heart of the city, ,tlian in its more ooen environs : as these were con- tinually refreshed by tlie breezes, that are frequently blowing from the moun- tains. An open portico, in the front of the villa, was a favorite seat with both the ladies— who, only now and then accom- panied the gentlemen in their pursuit of those highly finished works of art, wliich are held in so much estimation, not only by the Italians, but by all the other na- tions of Europe. Not that either Lady Vaversly or Miss Maitland were deficient in taste, or curiosity, respecting these no- ble specimens of the ancient masters : but, it frequently happened, that indis- position would detain Lady Vaversly at home, and then Miss Maitland was un- willing to leave her by herself. For, if his Lordship had fixed, at any time, to inspect such a gallery of paintings, or such a monument of art, on any particu- 136 THE ADULTERESS. lar d'dy — go he would— at least, no cir- cumstance, that did not affect himself, had power to detain him» And the in- disposition of his wife, was one that oc- curred so often, that he never suffered that to interfere with his own plans of amusement. Thus Miss Maitland and Lady Vavers- ly were frequently left to entertain them- selves as they thought proper. And these days were generally productive of much pleasure to them both. England was sure to be the prevailing topic of conversation — and one, of which they were never weary. To Miss IMaitland,. Lady Vaversly could talk with freedom of those beloved friends she had been compelled to abandon — and, as this was> a subject, on which she never ventured, to dwell, in the presence of her hus- l^and— these days of comparative solitude, were, to her, davs of felicitv. Miss Maitland, too, enjoyed her share of sa- tisfaction in thus conversing with her THE ADULTERESS. 137 friend of scenes long past; scenes, in which she had, also, been particularly in- terested : and in these friendly commu- nications the time flew so rapidly, that, whilst seated in their pleasant portico;* the shades of evening enveloping every ob- ject, was almost insufficient to convince them, that so many hours had past, since the gentlemen had left them in the morn- ing. The arrival of the absent party would, however, quickly dispel the illu- sion—for the conversation would then, of course, naturally turn upon the won- ders they had been viewing : and, it not "unfrequently happened that his Lordship had made some valuable purchases, of which he was eager to have their opinion. Tlie whole party had one morning vi- sited the Royal Gallery of Medecis ; as- ceiuling the staircase of which, had so much fatigued Lady Vaversly, that she was compelled lo recline upon a sopha for the rest of the day. During dinner, 158 THE ADULTERESS. his Lordship informed them, of an ex- cursion he had planned for the following day, to the convent of Vallombrosa, which' was nearly twenty miles distant from Florence ; and, that, it would be necessary, as he intended to return the same evening, that they should set out very earl}^ in the morning. Lady Va- versly immediately declined being of the party : as she had been informed, that tte road to the convent was such, that no •carriage dare venture within three miles of it: and, consequently, those, who had any intention of seeing the valuablie paintings contained within its walls, would be under the necessity of walking that distance. She, however, entreated Miss Maitland not to remain at home npon her account. But that lady, equal- ly glad to escape the fatigue, which ap- peared likely to overbalance any pleasure that might be derived from this excur- sion—and always gratified by spending a" THE ADULTERX&S. 139 calm day of peaceful seclusion Avitli her friend, was not sorry that she had so good an excuse for remaininQ: at the villa. In the morning, when they were to set out, Arthur, from a head -ache attended bv sickness, such as he had been occa- sionally subject to from his infancy, was obliged to be left at home ; but, after breakfast, the sickness having subsided, his mother thought an airing would tend, perhaps, to relieve his head-ache, which was already much better ; and, there- fore, ordered the carriage, and, with Miss Maitland, drove to the Cassina of the grand Duke. Arthur was so much benefitted by his morning's ride, that when they returned to the villa, very little of his former indisposition remain- ed ; and he then began very feelingly to lament his disappointment, at being pre- vented from makino' one of his father's party to Vallombrosa. Lady Vaversly, however, soon made him ashamed of thus regretting a single 140 THE ADULTERESS. instance of this kind, by representing to him, how often she experienced depriva- tions of a similar nature. '^ Ah ! mother," replied he, *' that is '* very true. I ought to be ashamed of ** complaining— but then, you are always *^ so patient— for you can endure pain *^ without saying mucli about it: and, I *^Jcnow, I found it this morning very " difiicult to bear." ** And so must every one, m}'' dear "Arthur," returned his mother— *' but ** impatience v/ill never be of any service ** to us ; on the contrary, it will make ** ev^ery evil appear with double force." *' But almost every body is impatient, I ** think, when they are in pain," said Ar- thur, " unless it is you. and Miss Mait- ** land. Only remember Mlien my father " was ill, just before we left lia mondi — '' I declare, I dreaded to go near him. " It is very lucky for us all, that ]ie has ** not often any thing the matter witli *^ him. If he was ill as often as you are, THE ADULTEUESS. 141 *^ mother, — ^O ! I don't know what would *' become of us !" ** He is not quite so much accustomed ** to it, as I am, my dear;" replied Lady Vaversly. ** Pain is so familiar to me, ** that I scarcely know what it is, to be ** without it. I am, consequently, in " some measure, inured to it. Though ** I frequently find a great difficulty to " forbear the language of complaint — ** however, I endeavour to check it as ** much as possible; for, it does me no '* good, and is, certainly, a great annoy- '' ance to others." *' Well, now, mother," cried Arthur, ^^ you shall see, that the next time I have " any ailment, I will not say much about " it ; but try to be as patient as you are." *' That is nobly said, Arthur;" said Miss Maitland : *' but you are a good *' lad, that I will say for you. And, in '^ the end, you will find, that you will *^ lose nothing by being patient : for, we 142 THX ADULTEKZSS. " are vastly more apt to feci interested '* for those who bear their infirmities with ** patience, than those who are eternally " wearying every body with their com- " plaints. And, indeed, persons who get ** into this habit, are generally a selfish or- ** derof beings, who consider every cir- ** cumstance, however slight which affects ** themselves, as of the greatest, consc- " quence; but who seldom have any con- *^ sideration for the peace or comfort of " others." *^ I am afraid, though," said Arthur, '^ that I shall find it rather difficult to " forbear grumbling a little, when my " head is so very bad as it is sometimes." ** Yet, you wilKfind your account in '' it;" observed Miss Maitland : '' for, I ** believe, patience is the only remedy for ** that malady. At least, I am sure, it " is the only one, from which we are to ** expect relief— for restlessness and moan- " ing will only encrease the pain we suf- THE ADULTERESS. 145 * fer ; at the same time, it shews, ho>v Vhttle consideration we have for the feel- * ings of our friends." ** Yes ; I behe ve it is best to he ' quiet ;" cried Arthur, ^ antJ, therefore, * I will try what I can do. — Besides, I * should not like to be reckoned so im- ' patient and tiresome as my father was ' all that time he was ill. O ! I never ' shall forget that week, I am sure ! and ' you must have been as glad as I was, ^ when he got better, mother, for you ' had a worse time of it than any body." *' Of course, my dear," replied Lady Vaversly, *M was much rejoiced when *' your father was restored to health: — ** but, as you are now quite recovered, *' suppose you take down one of those ** books, and read to us. And now I ** think of it, among them is a collection " of poems, written by a person whom I ^* knew very well, in which there are '* some lines on patience, which I should " like to hear you read. " 144 THE ADULTERESS. Arthur having reached clown the book, his motlier pointed out the following lines, which he read aloud to her aud Miss Maitland. What form is that — which hov'ring neac^ Does such blest aid impart, As makt'S e'en pain itself appear, Dirested of its smart ? 'Tis Patience — whose mild, soothing pow'r. Such wondVous aid bestows. That iu misfortune's darkest hour. She solaces our woes. Patience can teach the wretch to smile Amid severest grief ; Can all our sorrows so beguile, As far exceeds belief j Except to those, who oft' like me, Have felt her wond'rous pow'r. When sad — in pain — Jind solit'ry, I've passed each lengthened hour. She whisperM soft, in accents low, And bade me not complain j For every mortal here below. Was doora'd to suffer pain. THE ADULTERESS. 145 But by my aid, she smiling said, I can so blunt the dart, That half its venom shall be fted. So powerful is my art." » Her friendly aid I quickly sought, And found her words were true : Such pow'r till then I never thought. Till then 1 never knew. In the evening as they sat in the porti- co enjoying the dehghtful hreeze, which blew freshly from the mountains, upon whose sides, richly clothed with vine- yards, the last rays of the setting sun still reflected a rich hue of crimson ,* Arthur expressed a wish that the ladies would take advantage of the beauty of the even- ing, and accompany him in a ramble to- wards a romantic plain, which he wished to shew them at the foot of one of the vot. I. H ^ liG THE ADULTERESS, mountains ; and which, he said, was not more than half-a-milc distant. Both La- dy Vaversly and Miss Maitland would have preferred remaining in the portico of their own pleasant villa : but Arthur was so earnest in his entreaties, that to oblige him, they, at length consented; and, with him for their escort, set out upon their ramble. \ saar I 1*7 ] CHAP. VI. O ! there is that sprightly frankness-**-that whatever is b€!« »eath it, it looks so like the simplicity which poets sung of iw. better days j I will delude my fancy, and believe it is so. SrERMB. T HE distance was, however, more than half-a-mile ; and as they passed along a lane, overshadowed by lofty trees, which nearly excluded the little light that re- mained, Lady Vaversly, feeling some- what fatigued, said, she thought, as the moon did not seem to be rising,, they had better return. ** O, no; mother!" exclaimed Arthur, ** do not let us go back now; why, we '* are almost there. And when we reach *^ the plain, I dare say we shall be able to ** find a seat— and, only look, Miss Mait* 148 THE ADULTERESS. ** land, through the branches of that " tree ; there is the moon rising, I a;m ** sure ! — O! do let us go on, now we ^' are so very near." ** Yes, that is the moon, sure enough ;" returned Miss ^faitland — '* it is only the " thickness of the foliage that prevents us *' from receiving any benefit from it, un- *' til it rises more immediately over our ** heads. But, are we really near the *' plain 3^ou spoke of, Arthur? — for this " lane is gloomy enough — and I do not ** see that there is likely to be an end of ^'it.'^ " It is only just round the corner," re- plied Arthur, '' we shall be there now al- ** most in a moment. — Ah ! yes, this is **it! — now we shall see whether I have ** spoken too much in its praise — only ** look, mother — look. Miss Maitland — ^* is it not a beautiful place r" Whilst he had been speaking, they had, indeed, emerged from obscurity, and had entered on a spacious plain, so romanti- THE ADULTERESS. 149 call}^ situated, that, for some moments, they could scarcely believe the reality of wjiat they saw. The plain lay in a beau- tiful valley at the foot of lofty moun- tains, covered with olives and chesnuts,. and interspersed with innumerable villas, on which the moon-beams now resting, exhibited to the utmost advantage, peep- ing from the darker foliage, by which they were mostly surrounded. The height of the mountains did not, how-^ ever, exclude the moon-beams from the plain ; around which were scattered nu- merous cottages, and farm houses, whose inhabitants had, this evening, assembled before the door of one of the latter, and were now gaily dancing on the green, to the soft melody of the flage©let, played by one of the rustics, who was seated under a tree at a short distance. The ladies and Arthur had stood for some minutes gazing with admiration and rapture on the picturesque beauty of the scene before them; which lost none of H 3 \50 THK ADULTERESS. its effect by being contrasted with tlie. shadowy lane through which they had just passed ; v.hen a grey-headed, vene- rable-looking man, advanced towards them, and bowing, requested that they would do him tlie honour to take a seat. This was highly acceptable to, at least, one of the party ; and they, therefore, followed their hospitable conductor to the door of a farm- house, which was scarcely discernable from the luxuriance of the Tines, with which it was nearly covered ; where he drew forth a bench for their ac* commodation, and desiring them to be seated, left them, and went into the house. He soon, however, returned with re- freshments, consisting of the best wine "and fruits his cottage afforded ; of \vhich he so earnestly entreated them to partake, that they would not hurt his feelings by a refusal. " You are sweetly situated here, my ** iii^^MKl," said Lauy Vaveit.!^ — *' piay^ THE ADULTIlRESS. 151 * is this any particular festival— or, arc * you often so gay as you seem this even- •*ing?" ** O, no; Signora; this is not afesta;" replied the fanner, whose name was Spe- rati ; " but our neighbours here, in the " valley, often meet of an evening, to *^ have a dance upon tlve green. This, to *' be sure, is, as 1 may say, a day of re- ''joicing; for you must know, Signora, *' that it is the anniversary of my son. ** Francisco's marriage to Agnetta Venini, •* the daughter of my next door neigh- ** hour. They were brought up together^ "as it were, like brother and sister; *' and loved each other from their child- " hood. In all their little sports, Fran- '* cisco would always single out Agnetta ** for his companion ; and she was equally ^^ fond of him : — though, it would have *' been better had they waited a little lon- '* ger. However, they thought other- ^' wise; — and so, at last, I gave them my H 4 152 THE ADULTERESS. ** consent. It was all I had to give my ** poor boy — but they must manage as ** well as they can, and contrive to earn ** a livelihood by their own industry : *' and, as yet, I have no fault to find with *' them on that score. As I tell them, *' their parents' began the world the same *' way ; and they have only to be hum- '' ble and industricus, and to pray that ** the blessed virgin will prosper their en- *' deavours." " And is Francisco your only child .f^** enquired Lady Vaversly. . *' O, no! I have a daughter, Signora, ** who is as pretty a girl as any in Tus- ** cany— aye, and is as good a one too. *' She is there among them all, dancing '* away with the best of thein — for my *' oirl dearly loves a skip upon the •' "Tccn." *' So should I too !" said Arthur, '' for ** it must be delightful to dance by n;oon- ** light — I should like it of all things !'' THE AD1!J/,T1lRESS. l£$ '^ Will the young Sigiior cl(3 us the ho- ** nour to take a dance?" enquired Spe- rati. ' " May I, mother?" said Arthur, cager*i ly, his eyes sparkling with joy and ani- mation. " If you wish it, my- dear," said Lady Vaversly, '* I cannot possibly have any " objection." " But who am I to dance with though?" again enquired Arthur—'* You will not, " I am sure, mother— and I am almost *' afraid to ask Miss Maitland." ** Why, I really feel a strong inclination " for a dance myself to-night," replied Miss Maitland; *' but I know very well ** what would be the consequence to-mor- ** row, I should be laid up for the day. *' And, therefore, I must of necessity re- ^' sist the temptation, though I am very *' sorry, my dear Arthur, to disappoint *'you." " If the young Signor will condescend ** to accept of a partner of my choosing," II 5 154 THE ADULTERESS. said Sperati, '^ I will engage to find him ** one in a minute ?-- Here, Anzoletta," continued he, raising his voice, ** come •** here child— I want to speak to you." A youthful female novv advanced, clad in the fantastic attire of the Tuscan pea- santry, and bowing gracefully, to the la- dies, as she passed the place where they sat, asked her father, if it was him who called ? '^ Yes, Anzoletta ; this young Signor ** is so condescending as to wish to join ^* our neighbours in a dance, and will do ^' us the honour to accept of you for a ^* partner. — Here, Sigaora, is my girl I ** was speaking of— Anzoletta, m}'^ dear, " why don't you cotne forward, ana pay ** your respects to the Signoras ?" Anzoletta, thus called upon, now again advanced ; and with ablush on her coun- tenance, once more bowed to the ladies, and with a smile extended her liand to Arthur ; who joyfully accepting it, she led him immediately to the spot, which TffE ADULTERESS. 155 she had recently quitted, where the happy group were still gaily dancing. The countenance of this youthful {pea- sant, w^as in the true style of Italian beau- ty : large black eyes, with those beauti- ful dark eye-brows, which give such striking expression to the whole face, yet blended with such an air of modest}^, that both Miss Maitland, and Lady Va- versly agreed, she had the most beautiful countenance thev had ever seen. " Is not my Anzoletta a charming girl, '* Signora?'' said the delighted father, as he observed them following her, with looks of admiration over the plain. ^' She is, indeed, my friend;" replied Lady Vaversly—*' pray, how old may she ^' be ?" '' Fifteen, conve next St. Mark— Yet, " though I 4ove my girl, Signora, tJiat *^ day was a** sorrowful one for me : '' for, on that very day I lost my wife. ** Poor Madeline ! she died a few hours '* after my daihng girl w^s born. — Ah 1 n 6 1.36 THi^^DULTERESS. '' Sio'iiora, that was a sad event for me— *^ i thought I sliouk! have, died too —for '^ we had lived so happy !~to be sure, I '^ had my children left to comfort me— *^ thouich it was a sad stroke for all that I " ]!\iy good neighbour \''enini took charge *^ of my little Anzoletta, or she would *^ soon have followed her mother; for *• you knew, Signora, what can a man do "with a young baby? — 1 was as awk- '* ward as any thing. However, under *' the <;:are of Agnetta's mother, she soon " grew strong and hearty, and was the ** merriest little thing — for she had al- *^ ways sense beyond her years— and as '* for beauty, she has always been allow- ** ed to be the handsomest girl in the ** w^hole valley." " I hope she will still be a comfort to " you, my friend," said Lady Vaversly, '* and repay you for your' kindness and *' attention, when you will most need it, ** in your declining years." "O! she does! she does !"— replied THE ADULTERESS. 157 Sperati— ^' there is not a more kliicl-heart- '* ed, afFectionate, and dutiful girl wilhin *' twenty miles of Florence. And then, '' she is such a good dancer — only look " at her, Signora— -why, the young Sig- " nor and she are footing it away at a *' fine rate. Ah ! this is the time for ^' them to enjoy themselves— whilst they " are young and merry — O ! it does my *^ heart good to see them I I love to see '^ the young ones dance, they look always *^ so gay and so happy." Sperati had now got upon a theme, which would, probably, have lasted till midnight, had not Miss Maitland inter- rupted him by asking — what it was o'clock? — Upon which Lady Vaversly starting up, and looking at her watch, exclaimed, that she had no idea it was so late ; and requested Sperati would be kind enough to call her son, as they must now, however reluctantly, bid them farewel. Arthur came immediately— but en- 15S THE ADULTERESS* treated his mother to remain a Httle lon- ger, just to let him have one more dance, for, continued he, ^Mt is a pity to go so } *' soon ! only look at the moon ! there is " not one cloud to be seen any where ; '^ and, perhaps, I may never have an " opportunity of dancing in such a place *' again in my whole life." *' I should be very happy to oblige *^ you, my dear boy," answered Lady Va- versly, "but consider, it is now getting ** late, and your father will, most proba- '^ bly be returned before we arrive at ** home, even if we set off immediately. ** I am equally reluctant to quit this en- *' chanting spot, but 1 know your father ** would wish to find us at home when *^ he returns from Vallombrosa : and, had *^ I thought it had been so late, I should ** have certainly set off long ago." . Arthur now, thougli very reluctantly, hade his partner farewel ; and the ladies, having first expressed their gratitude to Sperati for his hospitality, and civility. THE ADULTERESS* 159 soon followed his example, by saying, *' adieu," to the farmer and his daughter: who were left deeply impressed by the condescension and affability of their visi- tors, " You shall be our guide again, Ar- "thur;" cried Miss Maitland, as they Vvalked home down the shadowy lane^ though the moon being now more im- mediately over their heads, rendered it less gloomy than before. — " You shall be ** our guide again, for 1 admire your •'^ 'taste very much." ** O ! I knew you must be pleased ** with it!" replied he, full of anima- tion— *^ for my part, I should like to " come every evening and liave a dance. ** And did you notice what a pretty girl '^ my partner was ? — Anzoletta Sperati, '* she told me her name was. Do you " know I thought she looked just like " Emily Domton— I hope you will come " another evening soon, mother, for dear- 160 THE ADULTERESS. *' ly do I love a dance ! especially by *' moonlight/' '* I don t know what we msfy do ano- ^^ ther evening," replied her Xadyship, *^ but, at present, I can only ^visli we *' were at home !" Lady Vaversly now exerted her utmost speed in order to be at^iome as quick as possible : where, however, they had no sooner arrived, than she had the satisfac- tion of hearing, that her husband was not yet returned. Her fears of his dis- pleasure, should he reach tlie villa before them, had induced her to exert herself infinitely beyond her strength ; so, that by the time she had entered their usual sitting room, she was so much exhausted, that, had not a salutary flood of tears re- lieved her, she must have fainted. She was, however, pretty \vell recovered be- fore his Lordship and INIr. Grenfell re- turned from their excursion, which they spoke of as being highly pleasant; and THE ADULTERESS. l6l regretted that the indisposition of Arthur had prevented him from accompanying them. ** You appear to have quite lost your *^ head-ache, though, Arthur," said his fa- ther— *^ for I think I never saw you look ** better in my life." " O, yes ;" replied his son, " I was ** more lucky than usual to-day, for I " quite got rid of it before dinner ; and *• have been since, as well as ever I was. " It would have been very provoking if I ** had not; for, we have had such a de- *' lightful walk this evening— aye, and *' you must know, Sir, that I have had a *' dance, too ; — haven't I, mother ?" *^ And, pray, with whom have you been ** dancing?" enquired his father — *' or, ** I should rather say, with what have ** you been dancing? for I do not see ** who was to stand up with you, unless *' it was the chairs and tables." *' O ! but I have though — hav^en't I, *' mother?" He then gave his father a 1^2 THE ADULTERESS. circumstantial accouiit of his evening^s entertainment; Avhich he described in the most animated terms : and concluded by saying, that he never .enjoyed any thing so much in his whole life— and only wish- ed that Mr. Grenfell and his father had happened to have been with them.. *^ If I had, Sir," replied his father, with much sternness of manner, **you may ** depend upon it, I should not have suf- '^ fered you to degrade yourself so far, as " to join in a dance with these people, '* w^ho, by your own account, are quit6 ** among the lower ardors of society.. *' And, I am astonished, that you, Lady ** Vaversly, did not interfere, and pre- ■" vent your son from acting in a manner ** so very improper 1" ** It did not strike me as any impro- *' priety," replied Lady Vaversiy, mild- ly, " or I certainly would not have per- *' mitted it. But it was for a very short *' time only, that he continued amongst '' them." ^liE ADULTERESS^. l6$ " Lons or short," exclaimed his Lord- ship, ** it was what you ought not to *' have suffered him to do — and I wonder " he had not more sense himself! he is ** not such a child now. By this time " he ought to have a proper sense of his '* own dignity, and be above mixing ** thus freely with the common herd, who ** ought always to be kept at a proper ^' distance." " Indeed, Sir," said Arthur, *' these ** were by no means to be reckoned a$ ** the common herd —-and, as to their /* making free— so far from that, they ** were rather more respectful than i *' could have wished." *' Indeed !"— observed his father, in a tone of contempt„ " But, I desire, Sir,^ ** that for the future, you will have more ** regard for mine^ if you have not for *' your own dignity, than to associate so ^* familiarly with persons so infinitely be- ^^ neath you. If I hear of any thing of 164 THE ADULTERESS. ** this kind again, I assure you, I shalt " be extremely angry." " I am very sorry, Sir," returned Ar- thur, ^' that I have incurred your dis- " pleasure ; but you may depend upon it, *^ that I will be more guarded for the fu- *' ture. Though I really did not ima- *' gine, I was doing any thing you would " disapprove of — for, I do not remem- " her. Sir, that you said any thing about * thinking it M'as wrong, when ]\Iiss ** Maitland allowed Emily Doraton to *^ dance Avith the pease/hts last year at the " vintage, when they Were all assembled *' at the door of the cottage belonging to ^^ Madeline's father." ** That is a very different case. There *^ is a wide difference between such a girl *' as Emily Doraton, and the honourable " Arthur Vaversly — my son ! — What ]\Iiss " Maitland permits Emily Doraton to do, *' a 2.irl brouoht up upon charitv, as it o oil »■ " were, is a matter of no consequence: THE ADULTERESS, ' l6i a but, that the heir of the ancient and no- •'* ble House of Vaversly, should thus de- * grade himself, as to be seen dancing ^ with a group of common peasants, is * highly derogatory to his exalted rank * and station in life— and what, I hope, I ^ shall never again have to blush for in a ' son of mine. '^ The whole of this conversation had passed in tlie absence of Miss Maitland ; who had retired to her own apartment to read some letters from England, which had arrived at the very moment his Lord- ship had entered the Villa. One of these was from her brother, Sir Wiliiam Muit- land, and contained such a oleasino* ac- count of the progress whicli-his two sons were making in their education ; and so many affectionate wishes for her return — to which was added many encomiums on her kindness to the little deserted girl, who, he hoped, would prove a blessing to her, that she had been so much interested by the perusal, as not to make her ap- \66 THE ADULTERESS. pearance again in their usual sitting room, until the family were already seated at the supper tahle. She soon, however, apologized for her absence, by relating the cause ivhich had detained her; and delivered her brother's kind remembes- ances to Lord and Lady Yaversly ; who both appeared unusually grave and silent. This, was, however, attributed by Miss Maitland to fatigue : — but, wlien their meal was over, she rallied Arthur upon *^ his being so soon tired, saying — that ** when she was at his age, she could have ** danced all night, without looking half " so fagged and dull as he did." '' O ! I am not ti^ed in the least;" cried Arthur, in a melancholy tone of voice -. — but, glancing towards his lather, and hesitating — ** I " ** Have brought on a return of your '* head-ache, I suppose?" interrupted Miss Maitland — '^ that is a very likely circum- *^ stance to happen. But the next time ^' we go upon a dancing excursion, it THE ADULTERESS. l67 *' must be on some day when you arc *' quite free from this troublesome com- *' panion ; for exercise is no friend to *' the head-ache whilst it is upon us, *^ whatever good effects we may derive *^ from it by way of prevention." '* I must beg that this folly may never "be repeated;" cried his Lordship— - "*'* but 1 have ah'eady told him my mind ** upon this suljject, and, therefore, all *' repetition is useless*" " What folly, my Lord, are you speak- " ingof?" enquired Miss Maitland, with no slight degree of suprise. ^ ** That, of which he has been guilty, *' as 1 am informed by himself, this even- V* ing ;" answered his. Lordship. *^ And ** which I should have thought the good ** sense of ]\liss Maitland would have " exerted itself to prevent." ** I do not exactly comprehend to what ^* you allude, my Lord, " retorted Miss Maitland. ** I cannot call to mind any *' action of your son's this evening, which V 168 THE ADULTERESS, '^ can come under that denomination. *' You cannot surely apply that term to *' the innocent recreation of dancing witli ^^ a few of the rustic inhabitants of the ^' valley — and, therefore, I am at a loss ^' in comprehending to what your Lord- " ship alludes." ^' No; you are right, Miss Maitland," said Lord Vaversly. — '^ Folly is not a *' proper term — I should have called it a *' glaring act of inij)ropriety — for such it *^ appejirs to me. A son of mine should *' have known better, than thus to de- ** arade himself bv submittino- to be haul- ^' ed about by a set of people, who, I *' I have no doubt, will, for the future, " should they luippcn to meet witli him *^ any where, claim him is an acquaint- '* ance— a fine business he has brought *^ upon himself! a simple fellow ! — But, *^ if he was childish enough to wish it, I *' am surprised that either you, or his ** mother, did not interfere to prevent '* him from thus disgracing himself— THE ADULTERESS l69 "*' when I think of it, I am really quite ^* astonished !" . ^* I cannot bring nij^self to consider ^' this in the same light as you do, my *' Lord — nor Lady Vaversly either, I dare " say," said Miss Maitland. ^^ For, iiad ^* it appeared to us, in that point of view, "we should, undoubtedly— that is. Lady " Vaversly would, of course, have pre- " vented Arthur from joining the happy *^ group. But, I am sure such an idea ^* never entered our heads. Inded, for " my own part, had my strength permit- ^* ted, I should certainly have gone down ^' a danc€ with them myself^ And, had *^ I done so, I should never have sup- " posed that I was submitting to any de- ^* gradation : and had they happened to " recognise me at any future p^iod, I ^* see no harm that could have accrued '^ from it, nor any reason why I should *' not have answered their salutation with *' civility." ** You will excuse me, Madam, if I vox, I. I 170 THE ADULTERESS. say, that in my opinion, your ideas upon this subject, for a lady of your rank and family, are somewhat singu- ^^ lar. However, I hope for the future, ** that my son will have more regard for '^ his own, and his fatlier's dignity, than *' to associate thus familiarly with the in- '* ferior classes of the people. And, on *^ this I must insist— that, should he meet *' with any of these persons, who, no *' doubt, will be glad to renew the ac- *^ quaintance, and will, most probabh% ** accost him with the greatest familiari- '^ ty ; that he takes no notice of them, " whatever. And this he may easily ef- " feet by lodking another way, and pre- *' tending not to see them." Miss Maitland, though feeling the utmost contempt for, and quite disgusted with, the haughty and unbecoming pride of his Lorhship, yet willing to put an end to the conversation, from motives of compassion towards his wife, who she saw was much affected by its continu- THE ADULTERESS. 171 ance, merely said— ** You and I, my *' Lord, certainly entertain very differ- '^ ent opinions upon this subject: though *' I will allow that mine may, perhaps, *' appear as singular to others, as yours ** at this moment do to me. But I see *' we have fatigued you, my dear Mary, ^* and, therefore, I think it will be as *' well if we adjourn the debate.*' Lady Vaversly gladly availed herself of this hint, and saying she really felt more weary than usual, retired with Miss Maitland to her own apartment. * She had scarcely, however, reached it, before she seated herself in the first chair that offered, and burst into a flood of tears. Miss Maitland was, at first, much alarmed. Lady Vaversly, however, in a short time . grew more composed, and sighing deeply, said — ^' excuse me, my '' dear EUinor ; but I don't know how it ''' is, my spirits are now s6 easily flut- *' tered, that every trivial circumstance ' discomposes me — yet, again sighing, 1 17^ THE ADULTERESS. '^ that was an unlucky walk we took this " evening !" Miss Maitland after the first surprise, liad, readily guessed the cause of her agi- tation, and endeavoured to comfort her as far as lay in her power—hut, at -the same time she could not but feel the con- viction, that with such a husband as the arbitrary and imperious Lord Vaversly, very little comfort, to say nothing of happiness could be her portion. She felt for her the greatest degree of pity: but pity was of little avail— yet it .was all she had to bestow. They conversed toge- ther for a short time, until Lady Vavers- ly's woman entered, when Miss Maitland bidding her friend good-night, left her to the repose she so much needed. When Miss Maitland reached her own apartment, on looking at her watch, and finding it much earlier than her usual hour of retiring to rest, she seated herself at the window, and as the room felt very warm and close, threw back the lattice in TJlE ADULTERESS.- 1 iH*i order to admit the fresh air. She had now full- leisure to admire the reposing beauty of the landscape, which lay stretched before her. The whole firma- ment was spangled with innumerable stars : whose brill itincy was, however, partially eclipsed by the splendour of a full-moon, whicHii had now arisen to its utmost height, and was pursuing its al- lotted coui-se through a boundless expanse of sk}^ where not one cloud appeared to dinr its Itistre. Its ravs bcamini>: on the sunnnits of the mountains, rendered their outline more distiuctiv visible ; whilst the dark woods which skirted their sides and base, were almost lost in the obscuri- ty of shade. The effect of contrast, how- ever, heightened the beauty of the whole. The valley exhibited a pleasing picture of repose and silence. A few only of the numerous cottages were discernable ; the rest were embosomacd among the thick foliage of the lofty trees, which almost every where surrounded them, except I 3 1/4 THE ADULTERESS. that here and there a white chimney might be discovered, peeping from beneath the branches. Not a sound broke on the air. — The peaceful inhabitants of the valley had long since retired to rest. — She con- tinued, for some time, to gaze, and to admire ! —until, at length, she arose, and with her eyes fixed on the beautiful planet, offered up an ejaculation of praise and adoration to the Almighty Governor of the universe. She reseated herself; and still received pleasure from contemplating the beautiful sublimity of the scene before her — but as she sat, pensively leaning her head upon her hand, her thouohts suddenlv wander- ed towards England, and to times long past, — when gay scenes of happiness had danced before her eyes. But not wishing to ^^'\\t way to a train of melancholy ideas, which these rememberances never failed to introduce, she endeavoured to drive them from her thoughts, and to picture to herself tlie happiness which THE ADULTERESS. 175 Ifer brother enjoyed in the company of his two boys, whom he had mentioned in his letter, as hkely to recompence him for all his misfortunes.— Still, however, the former subject would intrude; and, well kfiowing,. that if she once gave way to a train of thinking, upon what she would have wished to have obli- terated from her mind for ever, it would entirely prevent her from sleeping ; and likewise, fancying that the air, which blew freshly in at the window, might be prejudicial to her health,, she hastily closed the lattice, and committing herself to the protection of the Almighty^ sooU: after retired to rest. 14 [ 176 i CHAP. VII. Pride ha3 no respect for the feelings of others, but impo~ riously demands universal attention to its ovrn. Miss Hamilton, W HEN the family assembled at the fireakfast-table the next morning, his Lordsiiip appeared intirely to have for- gotten the subject, wliich liad so much displeased him the preceding evening, and was uncommonly good-tempered and agreeable. At the conclusion of their meal, he proposed a visit to the church and convent of Santa IMaria I\Iad- delina, which were ahiiost the only build- ings of the kind in Florence, they had not already inspected ; and as he pressed THF. ADULTERESS. - 177 the company of the ladies with much earnestness, they agreed that morning to be of the party. This church, and the convent adjoin- ing, contained many paintings of the most celebrated artists ; but what ap- peared principally to attract their admi° ration Avas a cupola, belonging to a small chapel, which formed part of the grand church, on the upper part of which w^as pourtrayed, hy a masterly hand, the man- sions of the Blessed !-— — The novelty, as well as sublimity of this design, for some minutes ri vetted tliem to the spot, and eneao-ed their undivided attention ; and they would, have contiuued to gaze much longer, had not a damp chilliness warned Lady Vaversly to retire. Therefore, af- ter bestowing a short time upon the other objects contained in this noble building, they sat out on foot, for their returu home ; having ordered the carriages which brought them thither not to waitj» previous to their enteriug the church, I 6 178 THE ADULTERESS. Their road lay over tlie tonte sanTri- Viita, — as they crossed which, the ladies slackened tlieir pace to admire the ele- gance of its architecture, and to ohserve the effect of the sun-beams glittering upon the water. The gentlemen, who were on before, did not perceive that their companions thus loitered, but pur- sued their way across the bridge, in ear- nest conversation concerning the course of the Arno ; which, his Lordship was of opinion, took its rise from one place, and Mr. Grenfell from another. Arthur was attentively listening to their discourse ; when they happened to meet a female peasant, with a basket upon her arm, and a smile, and a blush upon her counte- nance, who bowed to Arthur as she ad- vanced, and appeared on the point of ad- dressing him :— but be, instantly recog- nising her, and fearing the displeasure of his father should he return her salutation, iromediately turned his head another way; though, at the same time the tears THE ADULTERESS.- 179 Started in his eyes — and she immediately passed on. ** Who is that girl, pray?" enquired his Lordship, with a frown. ** O ! — it is — only- — hername is An- *' zoletta," replied Arthur, stammering, and hesitating.. ** What Anzoletta ? — How do you- "know her? — Who is she?" " Anzoletta Sperati ;" returned Arthur, *'' that I danced -with last night— hut," added he, quickly,> *' I did not speak to. " her— you know, Sir, you bid me not." ^' Certainly I did;" said his father ■— ''and you find I was in the right; for, it. ** is evident, that had we given the girl. *^ any encouragement, she would have *' had , the. assurance to have spoken to *' you.. She looked a bold one : but this *'* is the consequence of your imprudence *' yesterday evening. — l told, you how it ** would be : — these . ignorant -peasants *' will give you many a cause to blush for- *' your foliy. I really shall be ashamed of I 6 180 THE ADULTERESS. " introducing you to any person of rank *' whom we may chance to meet, in case " you should happen to be accosted by '* anv of these villao-ers." *^ I can turn my head away again, Sir," said Arthur, mournful iy — " and then, " you may be sure, they will never speak '' to me again — though I am sorry to do *^ it, too ; for they behaved in a very dif- ** ferent manner to us, 1 am sure 1" ** That is of no consequence!'* ex- claimed his father. " I once more in- ** sist upon it that you never hold any *' conversation with them, nor, indeed, '• take any notice of them. — You may '* see by the conduct of this girl, what ' '' would be the consequence if you did." '* Indeed, Sir, I did not think she '* spoke to me at all ; I am sure I did not ^ hear her. And did you think she look- ** ed boldr^— Destr me! now, I cannot ** imagine how you could think so! — I ** thought she seCmedr to colour very " much-— but, te be sure, I did not much THE ADULTERESS. 181 *' look at licr, for I turned away my '^ head." '^ Arthur is in the right there," ob- served ]\Ir. Grenfell— ^^ tliere certainly " was a look of modesty in tlie countc- '^ nance of this peasant girl, which pre- '^ possessed me much in her favour." *'Sir," said Lord Vavel'sly, gravely, "it is my particular request, that this V girl may be no more mentioned. It is ** my will, Arthur, that you never speak ^^ to any of these villagers : and, mind, " Sir, I expect to be obeyed !" They had now reached the fiirthest ex- tremity of the Ponte san Trinita, where they waited a few moments for the ladies to join them. They had been detained a short time by the meeting with Anzo- letta ; of whom Miss Maitland had pur- chased some fruit, for which she had given infinitely more than had been de- manded by Anzoletta, as she wished to reward her, and her father, for the civj- IS-l THE ADULTERESS,, lity that had been shewn them the pre- » ceding evening. This ci rcumstance, . so. apparently tri- vial, dwelt upon the mind of his Lordship^, rendering him so restless and dissatisfied, that he now frequently talked, of quitting Florence, and pursuing ^their journey to- wards Rome. Lady Vaversly, whose health was considerably amended since their residence at the villa, felt some , de- gree of reluctance at the thoughts of leaving a place, which had proved so be- neficial to her; but as remonstrance .on lier part, she well. knew, would, not .de- tain him, if he had resolved to go, she. forbore to urge her wishes, that, they might remaiji for some time longer at the. villa. He did think it necessary to ask Miss Maitland if she had any objection to a . removal ? — but, at the same time gave her to understand, that it was his parti-, cular wis)) to set off as soon as possible.. THE ADULTERESS. 133 To wliich, she replied —That her hiclina- tioii either to go, or stay, depended on Lady Vaversly— as she was the invahd, she was the most proper person to he consulted. *^ I have heard," returned her Lady- ship, " that it is very unwholesome to '* travel between this place and RomC' '* during the heats of summer: if that *' should be the case— I — " *' Nonsense I" interrupted her husband. ^' Who could have put that in your head ? "You may depend upon it, that is all ^' nothing." *' Indeed, my Lord," said Miss Mait- land,^ '* several of the Florentines have '' told me the same, since we have been <^Miere." ** O ! it is their interest to spread that *' abroad. I am surprised that you did *' not see through that finesse. Of '* course, it is their interest to speak well ** of Florence— but you may rely upon it, '* they will say just the same of Rome 184 THE- ADULTERESS. ■^^ when we get tliere. Besides, I have '^ alw^ays been led to understand that, the '^ air of Kome is higlily salutary to those *^ who are afflicted with weak lungs--^o *' much so^ that the Romans are remark- *^^able for their longevity." '•1 was not speaking of Rome itself," I'esumed his wife, '^ but of the country *' through which we must travel, m order '* to reach it. And, I assure you, I have •' been informed by several, that during '' the summer heats, it is exceedingly -' unwholesome." '' All a fable, you may depend upon ** it," said his Lordship. *'For my own '* part, I never heard any thing of the •'kind before; and I do not believe it ^^now." Lady Vaversly perceiving that her hus- liand had made up his mind to leave Florence, and knowing that all further opposition on her part would be unavail- ing, quietly gave up the point : and it was soon after settled, that they should THE ADULTERESS. 185^ qait their present residence in the couxse of a week, and begin their journey to- v/ards Rome, In the evening whilst seated in their pleasant portico, enjoying the delightful coolness of the breeze, wafted fresh from the mountains, both Lady Vaversly and Miss iMaitland could not but regret that they were now so soon to leave this charming place. The gentlemen having left them for a long ramble, they were at liberty to express their minds freely to each other. Deeply engaged in conver- sation, interesting to them both^ they did not perceive that the shades of evening had already thrown a veil over every ob- ject ; and it was not until a bright gleam shining from the east announced the moon to be rising, that they had any idea of the lateness of the hour. The gentlemen, however, were not yet returned ; and for sometime, the beautiful planet engaged their whole at- tention. It appeared slowly, but majcs- 18t) THE ADULTERESS. ticallv emero'ins: from some li«:ht fleecv clouds, who5e edges seemed tipped with* silver ; and then gradually ascending, pursued its silent course^along the Hea- vens, except that now. and then a passing cloud would for a moment dim its lustre, but would the next shine forth with un- diminished splendour. Whilst they con- templated this scene in silent rapture, a sound of music stole upon the air, so soft ! so sweet! so melancholy ! that, at first, it seemed something more than earthly* They listened attentively — fear- ing almost to breathe^ lest a sound should escape them. The strain evidently came from the valley ; and the music, softened by distance, floated through the air with- unusual melody; On a sudden it ceased. In a few moments, however, they heard it again — but it was now changed to a- quick movement, which seemed perfectly familiar to their ear ; and they almost immediately recollected it to be one of die, tunes they had heard played a few THE ADULTERESS. 187 evenings before, by the villager on the plain. They had no doubt, but, the music which they had been listening to,, so attentively, proceeded from the same source ; and were expressing their asto- nishment at the surprising skill some- times shewn by these rustic musicians, when a servant entered with a letter for each of the ladies, bearing the past-mark of France. Lights were ordered imme- diately. In the mean time they attempt^ ed to decipher them by the moonlight ', but after poring their eyes for some mi^ nutes, they found that all their endea- vours were to no purpose, as only a^ word here and there could be made out. Anxious as they were to have some in- telligence of their two girls, they were compelled to suspend their curiosity un- til the servant returned with the lights ; though he appeared to them unusually dilatory this evening. At length, how- ever, they made their appearance ; and'. the letters -were inspected iinnied lately. ISS THE ADULTERESS. Olivia had written to her iDot'hcr : hut' her letter was merely a matter of form, just saying she was w^ell, and that she hoped her mother was better; dictated^ most probably, by the Abbess or one of the Nuns of St. Margarite : but that to Miss Maitland was from jMadame St. Valery, and contained more copious in»- formation concerning them. She spoke of them ag being very well, and very happy— and begged they would not think of hurrying back to Raimondi: upon their account, as Lady Vaversly had received so much benefit from the air .of Italy, for, that she would be very careful of them during their absence, as much so, as if they were her own. "I '^ frequently call upon them at the con- ** vent," continued she, *' and now and^ *' then fetch them to our house. Last Sun- '' day we had a ramble over the grounds ** of your Chateau, with which they. "^^ were highly delighted; but as I grew. " weary long, before tlicm, I seated my- THE ADULTERESS. IW *"' self on your favourite seat that over- " looks the Mediterranean, and left them *' to run about as long as they pleased, *' whilst I enjoyed my^harming view of ^' the ocean. Little Emily after some- ** time placed herself beside me, and said — *^ O ! how 1 do wish dear Miss *' Maitland was come back again!" — *' Olivia now running towards us, like- *' wise cried, -'* And sado I. — But I don't ** much care about it. I should like mam- ** ma to come back again, though; and *' Arthur. O. ves ! I should be very o:lad *' to see him again, poor fellow !"— " En- ^* trenous, here was no mention of a wish " to see papa; but I was not at allsurpiised ** at that. Perhaps, you may consider all '*' this as very trifling, and not woitliy of" *' being repeated— -but judging by my " own feelings, I imagined that whatever ^* related to the children could not fail tx3 ** be interesting. However, my dear *^ madam, of this be assured, that they ^* are both wc4l and happy ; and that dur- ISO THE ADULTERESS. ^* ing your absence they shall have every ** possible attention paid them, by ^^ Anjj-elica St. Valerv. ?> Raimoiidi'- May 31. They had scarcely finished reading their letters before the gentlemen returned ; when supper was immediately served by the command of his Lordship; who in- formed them he had been this evening employed in arranging every preliminary for their approaching journey ; which it was his intention should take place on the following Monday. When the supper was concluded, Miss Maitland read aloud, part of the letter she had just received from Madame St. Valery ; which seemed to afford his Lordship much pleasure ; and he request- ed Miss Maitland would have the good- ness, in her answer, to inform the lady, that it would be necessary to direct her next letter to Rome. This, Miss Mait- land said, it was her intention to do the •THE ADULTERESS. 1^1 licxt morning; and both Lady Vaversly ^nd herself declared, that they should now proceed on their journey with much greater satisfactiou, since they had heard so good an account of their two girlf;, who were extremely fortunate to have met with such a kind friend in the amia- ble jMadame St. Valery. These let- ters seemed to have inspired ev^ery one of the party with cheerfulness, so that the time flew unheeded, until a clock sound- ing from the hall below announced the hour of twelve : upon which Lady Va- versly rising, wished them all good- night, and in a few minutes every one retired to their separate apartments. At an early hour the followinnr Mon- day, they bade adieu to Florence, and sat out upon their journey towards Rome. They took their route by way of Pe- rugia, meaning to return by that of Sie- na, but as their first day's journey lay .principally over the mountains, their" 192 THE ADULTERIESI; progress v/as but slow, for they reached ^o further than Arezzo, where thev slept ; and in the morning early again «at forward, in hopes of being able to get to Perugia before night-fall. This, how- ever, they found somewhat difficult to -accomplish, for they did not reach the summit of the mountain, on which stands the city of Perugia, before tlie last shades of evenins: were closinsrfast around them. They arrived very safe ; and after resting here one day, proceeded on the next to- wards Spoleto, where they again slept ; and then took the road to Terni, from which place they hired mules in order to convey them to tlie famous cataract about four miles distant, which amply repaid them for this short delay. Another night they rested at Civita Castella ; and on the fiFth from their quitting Florence, they caught a view of the ancient city of Rome. As it was late before they made their entree into this magnificent city, they re- THE ADULTERfi&S. 183 mained for one night at the hotel ; and the next day took possession of a suite of apartments on the Corso; where Lady Vaversly, who was very much fatigued by their long journey, was glad to remaia in-doors, whilst the gentlemen sought for amusement by traversing the streets and squares of this extensive place. As Miss Maitland was, likewise, con- siderably fatigued by their late journey, *he very readily agreed to remain at home with Lady Vaversly, for a few days, in .order to obtain a little rest. And dur- ing this time the gentlemen made an excursion to Tivoli; which proved so interesting, that they were absent nearly four days. When they returned, the ladies being recovered in some degree fronl the effects of their late journey, though Lady Va- versly was frequently indisposed, thiey accompanied the gentlemen ^ some of their rambles over the city. Where, though they saw much to admire ia the TOL. I, K 194 THE A»ULTi:RESS. grandeur and magnificence of the noble buildings which surrounded them, yet the ruins of ancient edifices an^ broken columns, presented to their miuds such a sad picture of desolation, that they not infrequently returned from these wan- derings with an impression of melan- choly, which they found some difficult}?' in shaking off. Lady Vaversly, in par- ticular, seemed to be affected by this sensation— and, as she was now again very poorly, she begged they w^ould ex- cuse her ; but, as she could not bear the idea of Miss Maitland remaining con- stantly at home on her account, she pressed her so earnestly to accompany the gentlemen, that, sometimes, to oblige her, she complied. Understanding that at the Colonna pa- lace, there was an unusual assemblage of rare and beautiful paintings, she, one morning went thither with his Lordship, Mr. Grenfell, and Arthur : and, after viewing those upon the ground floor, en- THE ADULTERESS. 19^ tered the gallery, at the end of which they perceived another group of visitors, who were, like themselves; come to in- spect the paintings. Being at some distance they did not particularly notice them, their attention being instantly engaged by a landscape of Claude Lorrain's, which hung very near the entrance. They continued re- gularly to inspect those which hung on that side the gallery, and Lord Vaversly, who was really a judge of the art, was pointing out to Miss Maitland one by Sal va tor Rosa, in which the back ground was remarkably well executed, when they overheard the following conversation from the party on tlie other side of the gallery. ** Here, you Mister"— said a voice in the true English style and accent—* ^* what did you say this here picture was " called ?" '* The death of Regulus, Si*gnor/' re- K 2 19^ THE ADULTERESS. plied the Custodi, or person who shews the palace, /* by Salvator Rosa*" *' And, who is he, pray ?" enquired the first speaker, " I don't know that I '* ever heard of him— this Regulus, I *^niean. Perhaps, you can tell us, '* Miss — Miss Jac — ^Jacky— what is your ** name,. Miss? I beg your pardon: but *' I've quite forgot." ** Jacquilina, Sin"— rephed a female voice, in an accent which pronounced her to he an Italian. ** O, ayel so it is— now I remember— " but somehow, I always forget these ** long names. Now if I was your fa- ^^ ther, do you know, I should . shorten •* it, and call you Jac." ** That would be making a boy of me •^at once, Sir Richard," said the lady laughing. " But, how do you like this •^ picture of a Madonna and Child ?" ** Why, she is a good pretty girl, I must ** confess," returned he— " and the child THE ADULTERESS* 197 ^* is a ince little fat creature— but, lord ! ** tliere is a posse of these Madonna's, a^ *' they call 'em, I mind, \v^herever I go. " Somebody told me once; they were *^ all done for the Virgin Mary; butp ^' as I said, — No tricks upon travellers— '* they won't make me believe that in ^ ** hurry —for, lord ! how should they "know? and besides, I mind, there's '^ never two of 'em alike — so, if that was ^' true, seme of 'em must have been done '' by deuced bad painters, for they can't '' be all like her, you know, that's mo- ^^ rally impossible !" " The one you are now looking at,'* observed the lady, " is reckoned by the " be^t judges, one of the finest paintings " we have in Italy." '' You don't say so !" exclaimed he-* *^ well then, 1 don't see as there is any '' thing for people to make such a crack "about*: for we have got just as good, "if not better — I declare, I do think " they are better, in England— iand you K 3 IS'8 THE ADULTERESS. ^' may see 'em all every year for a shil- ^* ling; rooms fullj and rooms full. But, ** do look at that gentleman I" added he, pointing to Lord Vaversly, " I dare say. ** he is one of your conneseur's — now, *^ only do look at him— it's worth your " while. Pray, can you tell me Avho he 'Ms?" ** It is the gentleman whom you m.ay " recollect I told you had taken those *^ apartments I was speaking of, on the '' Corso;" repUed the lady, lowering her voice—'' Lord Vaversly, I think, his '* name is.'^ '' Vaversly !— Vaversly !" —repeated lie, as if considering, '' where hav.e I heard *• that name ? — Vaversly — O ! now I re- *^ collect," continued he, nodding signifi- cantly, '* it is my neighbour Watkins's '' great brother-in-law — I was sure I *' knew something of him. Well ! only " think we should happen to meet him "' such a way olf. No doubt he will be *' glad to hear about his relations, so I 7HE ADULTERESS. 199 ** shall just step and tell him that I saw '* Walk his the day before I set off, and " that I left him, and his family very '' well." *' I think yoiThad better not, father/* said another female, in a faint tone — *' for he knows nothing of us." *^ Nonsense ! Sally — wiiat does that " signify ? — But you are always so shy, ** If I had been in some outlandish coun- *^ try for a great many years, to be sure I " should be glad to hear of my relations, *' and so Aviil his Lordship, I dare say. *^ I could not ansv\ er it to my conscience " not to speak to him." " But not now, father," said the same voice, in a tone of entreaty. He, however, heeded her not ; but stepping across the gallery towards the place where his lordship was standing by Miss Maitland, he accosted him, with hoping he had the pleasure of seeing him and his lady in good health ? — *' You ** don't know me, my Lord, I dare say," K 4 iaoo THE ABULTERISS. continued he—" my name is Jobson ; Sir ** Richard Jobson." "No, really, Sir," replied Lord Va- vaversly, haughtily, *' I never heard of " the name before." *' You forget; you forget, my Lord ;'^ returned Sir Richard— ^' but you have "heard of me often enough. —Jobson, ■'^ Devereux, and Co. Blackwell Hall Fac* "' tors, are, I believe^ names pretty well *' known upon 'change." " I rather think, Sir, you have made a , *' mistake," resumed Lord Vaversly ; "for '* I have not the honour to know either ** of these persons you have mentioned." " No, I haven't, my Lord," exclaimed Sir Richard ; " I know you very well. '^ For, you must know, I live., in Cheap- *^ side, the very next door to your bro- '' tlier Watkins, who is a very worthy *' fellow, and a sociable good neighbour. " And as I knew you must be glad to **hearofhirn, I just come to tell you, ^ that I saw him the night before we set TH5 ADULTERESS. gOl *' off to come to this here Italy, and I " don't thmk I ever saw him look better '^ in my life. I hope I see you well, my *' Lady ?" continued he, addressing him- self to Miss Maitland— '* I believe I have ** had the pleasure of meeting you before, " my Lady, some years ago." *' I believe not, Sir," replied his Lord- ship, with an encrease of hauteur in his manner. ** The name pf this Lady " is Maitland." ^' I beg your pardon, madam, I am " sure ;" answered Sir Richard—" but I '^^ thought you was my Lady : for, it ^vas *' very natural, you know, that I should *' take you for his Lordship's wife. But, ^^ pray, how is my Lady ? I thmk I once " heard from my neighbour that she was '* very ailing; something by what I could ** make out like my Sally, a little ^on- " sumptive or so." '' She is better than she has been ;" re* plied Miss Maitland— " but she declined m 5 t€ ■U 202 THE ADULTERESS. *' accompanying us this morning, not ^' feeling quite so well as usual." *^ Or, perhaps," cried Sir Richard, "she ^* may be something like me, not over *' particular about pictures. — For my own ** part, now, they are very well ; and as *' we have got nothing else to do here, why we may as well walk up and down '* these here galleries, as to sit moping at home all day. My Sally over there, ** and a lady who is with us, who was ** born in Italy, loves to come and see *' what is to be seen ; and so, to be sure '^ I comes with 'em —and this they tell me ** is very fine ; and another is a Frisky or " a Fresko, and desire me to look at it, *' But lord I its all gibberish to me, I ^* don't understand such hard names, not *' I. For, as to me, I see no diiFerence in " 'em ; one is as good as another to me ; '' but then, to be sure, I don't reckon *■ myself a judge of these things — You *Mo, I suppose, Sir?" addressing himself to his Lordship. THE ADULTERESS. 203 " Certainly, Sir," replied Lord Vavers- ly, ** I know the difference between a " chef-d'oeu\Te of Raffaelle's, and a daub " that's only fit for a sign-post." " Between what? — did you say, my " Lord ?" enquired Sir Richard — ^' for I " am a very bad hand at understanding ** these hard names." *' It is of no consequence," replied his Lordship, haughtily. *' Come, Miss ** Maitland, we shall not get through the *^ whole of this collection before dinner, *' if we thus loiter our time away." Sir Richard was not, however, so easily repulsed. He either did not, or would not, comprehend that his Lordship wish- ed to get rid of him ; but continued ad- dressing his discourse to both him and Miss Maitland, with the freedom of an old acquaintance, until a tall,, genteel young woman, with a pale, but interest- ing countenance, came across the gal- lery, aad said to him— ^* father, we have " now finished our survey of the pictures^, X 6 ;g04 THE ADULTERESS. V '^ and are going home. We only vait " for you." ^' Very well; very well, Sally; I*m a ^* coming. But stop, stop child, let me *^ introduce you to his Lordship. — This, ** my Lord, is my daughter :— And that, *^ my dear, is Lord Vaversly, as you've *^ often heard of. And this, is not my ** Lady, but Miss Maitland, I think his " Lordship called her : — and that young *' gentleman, is his Lordship's son. The ^* other gentleman, (no offence to him) *^ but I have not heard his nanre." The young lady bowed gracefully to the party ; which was returned by Migs Maitland with her usual politeness : but his Lordship, scarcely moving his head, turned instantly away, pretending to be; occupied by intently gazing upon the paintings. The young lady now joined her own friends, and was almost immediately fol- lowed by her father ; who, however, first, ©nee more addressed bis LorJship, witk THE ADULTERESS, 205 — '' Good-bye, my Lord. — I wish you " all a good inorning.-^But I dare say '^ we shall meet again : though, this here '* Rome is a monstrous large, rambling " place. Have you been at Naples, my *' Lord ?" ** No, Sir '."—exclaimed Lord Vavers- ly, in a tone of vexation and rage, at his thus commencing a conversation, Avhen he had fancied he Avas upon the point of getting rid of him. " Then, if I M^as you, I would not go ^* there at all. my Lord ;" said he—'' for " that horrid mountain ! is enough to '* frighten a man to death. And then " it's so hot !— I was almost melted the *' whole time I was there !— Take my ad- ** vice, and don't go there at all, my " Lord — there's nothing worth seeing '* there." ** When I ask your advice, Sir, I'll '* thank you for it/'— said his Lordship, haughtily. *' No offejice ; no offence, I hope, my ^06 THE ADULTERESS. ^' Lord," cried Sir Richard. '' I only do '* as I would be done by. I should have '' been obliged to any one, who would *' have told me all about it. But here I " stand chattering, whilst they are all " awaiting for me. Coming, Sally, com- bing :~ these girls are so impatient! — '^ But once more, I wish you all a good- " bye." So saying, he joined his daugh- ter and her party, and in a few moments, to the great joy of his Lordship, quitted the gallery. During the foregoing conversation, the risibility of Arthur had been fre- quently excited ; but he endeavoured to check the strong propensity he felt to laugh, for fear of incurring the displea- sure of his father. However, the Knight had no sooner quitted the gallery, than he gave free scope to his mirth, and said, ** he did not know when he had had bet- " ter fun ; he was such a droll, odd fel- *Mow." *' I desire, Sir, I may hear no more of THE ADULTERESS. SO? ** him :" said his father, sternly. *M *' have been bored with him long " enough." Arthur, thuSj silenced, said no more. But as he now l^egan to be weary of look- ing at the paintings, he could not help secretly Avishing that the old boy might take it in his head to return ; that he might afford him a little 'more, of what he termed rare sport. However, his wishes were vain, for he did not again make his appearance —and Arthur was obHged to wait patiently, un- til his father had minutely inspected the whole collection. They then returned to their apartments on the Corso ; where they found Lady Vaversly anxiously awaiting their arrival, who feared some accident had happened to detain them, having so much exceeded their usual hour of dinner. She naturally enquired the cause of their detention — and was answered by her husband, who appeared in a very ill- 208 THE ADULTERESS. humour, that they had been unhicky enough to meet with a troublesome, ig- norant fellow, who would force his con- versation upon them—" but I can tell ** him," added he, " he will find himself *' much mistaken if he fancies I shall take '* any notice of him." *' Who Avas he, then?" enquired her Ladyship— " or, perhaps you did not *' find out who he was ?" *' Yes ; he was not backward in letting ^* us know who he was;" answered «iis Lordship : *' but it was so uninteresting ** to me, that 1 have forgot his name al- ^* ready." '^ It was Jobson, father;" cried Ar» thur. ** Don't you recollect he said it *' was Sir Richard Jobson ; and that he '^ lived next door to my uncle Watkins, ** in Cheapside r" '* I did not ask you. Sir;" resumed his father. '* Be so obliging as to speak *^ when you are spoken to." ^* I beg your pardon, Sir. But I 'PHE ADULTERESS. 2G9 '•' thought you would wish to be inform- "** ed, as you said you had forgot." *' Hold your tongue, Sir, will you ?" said his father, angrily. — *' Yes, now I '*' recollect, I believe he did say his name ''' was Jobson ; and that he was acquaint- *' ed with Mr. Watkins, that thev were ** neighbours, or something of that sort. " But what was that to me !" *' Perhaps then, he could have given '* us some information concerning ray '* brother and his family," said Lady Va- versly, with much earnestness — '*I Avish *^ I had happened to have been with " you !" *^ O ! He knows nothing of them, I '^daresay," cried her husband. ** He *' only made that an excuse to force him- '* self upon us." '* I should think he knew something *^ of Mr. Watkins, too, my Lord," said Miss Maitland ; ' ^ for if you recollect, he " mentioned having seen him the very ^' evening before he quitted England : filO THE ADULTERESS, ^' and I have the pleasure to tell you, my '^ dear Mary, that he said, *he never saw '^ ' your brother look better, than he did *' * at that time, in his whole life.' " Dinner being now served up, necessa- rily interrupted the conversation : but when it was concluded, and the gentle- men gone out in the evening for a walk as usual, Miss Maitland satisfied the cu- riosity of Lady Vaversiy, by relating the whole particulars of their meeting with Sir Richard ; who, she said, appeared to her a blunt, but well-intentioned man ; and she had no doubt, but, that he thought; by speaking to them upon the subject of Mr. Watkins, he was doing them a favour. Lady Vaversly said, she had some faint recollection of having met a person of that iiame once at her brother's, and she had no doubt but this was the same man. He had been then recently Knight- ed by his Majesty, during the time he had filled the office of Sheriff: and was an ho- THE ADULTERESS. 211 nest, worthy character : but so full of his new honours, that she rememberedp he had scarcely talked of any thing else. ** I wish I had been with you, EUinor/' continued she, *^ for I dearly love to hear *' anything concerning England, — happy " England ! — which I shall never see ** aQ-ain !" " O, yes ! you will, my dear Mary," said Miss Maitiand — *^ consider, how *' much better you are^ than when we *^ left France. Ali ! yes: I trust we *' shall, yet, all see England together." ** For myself," replied Lady Vaversly, mournfully, ^^ I have ho such hope. ** During our residence at Florence, I " certainly grew much better, but since ** we have been here, every unpleasant ** symptom has returned, and I feel a *^ conviction that I shall not long sur- *' vive. If my death should take place " before our return to France, and I ne- " ver should have the felicity of seeing **my darling child again, will you pro- 212 THE ADULT£RESS. ^* mise to be a mother to her ? — Her fa- ^ '* ther, as you well know, is frequently *' harsh to his children, and— may marry '* again — in that case, my dear EUinor, '* may I hope she will find a friend in ''you?" Miss Maitland did not hesitate to make the mind of her friend easy upon that account, by immediately promising to consider her children in every respect as her own, in the event of her death ; but at the same time affected an unconcern, she was far from feeling, and pretended, that she had no doubt, but that she should have to request the same favour of her, in regard to her little deserted Emily — *^ for," added she, cheerfully, ** I ** think your life, since we have taken '^ this journey to Italy, is quite as good a *^ one as mine now." Lady Vavcrsly did not answer, but shaking her head mournfully, began to converse upon another topic— one, on which she delighted to dwell— her friends THE ADULTERESS. 213 in England. This was a never failing sub- ject ; and it continued to engage tlieir whole attention, until the return of the gentlemen, who immediately started ano- ther, by proposing a jaunt to Frescati on the following day. This was seconded by Miss IMaitland, >vho thought a ride would be of service to the spirits of her friend; and, therefore, pressed her so earnestly to be of the party, that she at length consented. It was settled that they should not set out v^ery early, but take two days instead of one, that I^dy Vaversly might not be fatigued bv risina: beibre her usual hour. As it was not more than twelve miles distant, the journey would appear trifling— especially as they had deter- mined to remain all night atFrescan, and not to return until the following day. [ au 3 r CHAP, VIII. Loud when he laugh'd, and hearty y,hc.n he spoke, His voice was mirth j his very look a joke, Chaucir. OON after breakfast the next morn- ing, the servant opened the door of the apartment in which they were sitting, tind announced—'* Sir Richard Jobson:" — who immediately entered, and stepping towards Lord Vaversly, said—*' So, you '* see, my Lord, I've found you out !" *' Found me out, Sir ?"— exclaimed his Lordship. ^ " Dear me ! my Lord, don't be fright- ^' encd— I don't mean in any bad tricks. ^' 1 only mean to say I've found out ^' where you live; and so just called in a THE ADULTERESS. 215 *^ friendly way to ask you how you " do ?" ** Will you take a scat, Sir ?" said Miss Maitland. " I thank'ye, Miss ; I don't care if I ** do."— Then addressing himself to Ar- thur, who just then entered the room, he said— " and how do you do this morn- ** ing, young 'Squire ?" *• Very well, I thank you, Sir;" replied Arthur, gaily, w4io had hurried up stairs as quick as he could, upon receiving in- formation from the servant, that Sir Richard Jobson was above. For a few moments no one spoke. But the silence was, at length, broken by Sir Richard, who once more addressed his Lordship, with — ^' But, how's this, my *' Lord ? you have never introduced me *' to your Lady yet— and you must know ** (without any oifence to the other ** ladies and gentlemen) that she is the ** very person I've called here to see : for you know, it would look very unkind ^4 ^l6 THE ADULTERESS. " in me, when I get back to England, ^' (which between you and I, I mean to *' do as fast as I can) to go and tell mj ^* neighbour Watkins, that I happened to ** light on his sister and her husband at ** this here Rome, and never so much as " called to see her. So, as I told Sally ** this morning— ray daughter, my Lord, " as I introduced to you at that tliere ** palace, where was all them fine pictures " —which, by-the-bye, I would not give ** two'pence to see— so, says 1 to Sally, I *^ shall certainly find out this countryman " of mine— that was you, my Lord — and '*^ you shall go with me, child. But, I *^ don't know how it was, somehow, I "could not persuade her to come— the *' women will be perverse, I think ! so, '^ at last, I set off by myself But, I ^' say, my Lord, you don't tell me, now, '* which is my Lady ?" Thus called upon, Lord Vaversljr was, in a manner compelled to answer; >vhich, however, he did with a very THE ADULTERESS. fl7 ill grace, by pointing to his wife, and saying, proudly, " that, Sir, is Lady *' Vaversly." **Ah, well!" cried Sir Richard, " i^ ^* I did not think so — why, my Lady^ ^^ you are the very moral of your bro- '' ther. But I hope you are better, and *' that you find this here air, that they *' make such a crack about, has done, ^ you some good." ** I thank you, Sir;" replied Lady Va- A^ersly, *^ but I cannot say I have reaped " much benefit from our change, of resi- " dence.'' *' Well, now, I am sorry for that, too> *' my Lady," resumed he; "for when one ** comes such a way from home, its very ** provoking to have all one's expence and ** trouble for nothing. Now, there's my *^ Sally, I do think, somehow, as she's " got better in this outlandish region ; '* and then, I shan't begrudge coming— ** for, you must know, it's all upon her ■^'account that I come to this here Italy; 218 THE ADULTERESS. " for I had rather be in England hj ^Mialf." *' And so would I too," thought Lady Vaversly— however, as she did not ex- press her thoughts, Sir Richard again proceeded " Poor girl !" said he, '* I was afraid I *^ should have lost her !'* ^'Is her disorder of a consumptive *na- *^ ture ?" enquired her Ladyship— to whom, from a similarity of situation, this conversation acquired a peculiar in- terest. '* O, yes ; my Lady :" replied he. — " At first, you must know, I was fool ** enough to fancy she was in love ; so I *' taxed her with it ; but, she said, it was '* no such thing. So then with that, I *' had a doctor to her ; and afte^' he had *^ dosed her with physic till she was as " pale as a ghost, he says to me— Sir Ri- " chard, says he, * if you wish to save *' ' your daughter's life, you must take *' * her to some milder climate.' Now, ^HE ADULTERESS. 219 ^' you must knov/, my Lady, she is my *' only child ; so, though I did not much *^ relish the thoughts of leaving England *^ to go into Foreign parts, yet, to save '^ my poor girl's life, I agreed to go with *' her somewhere. But the difficulty was, *' where to go. One told us to go to *^ Lisbon. Then another says to me, Sir ^* Richard, if I was you, I would go to *^ Mountpelere ; somewhere in France, ** that is, Sally says. But she was all *' for coming here — for, you must know, '* she had got an acquaintance that went '' to school with her, that lived in a *^ place called Florence ; and so, she used *Valways to be sending letters backwards " and forwards ; and this Miss Spolino ** always puffed off this country of her's, *^ at such a rate, that Sally did not seem ** to like to go any where else. So, as *^ we must go into some Foreign parts, I ** did not much care where, and so I let *' Sally do as she liked, and here we ai'-e '' in Italy," h % 220 T»E ADULTERESS, c]p shuddering when she reflected that its ravages had so fatally extended even to the very spot, on which she was now sit- ting. She endeavoured not to think of it; — but in vain; — the idea would in- trude—her efforts were all ineffectual to chase it from her mind. At one time her fears so far got the better of her rea- son, that she fancied she heard a rum- THE ADULTEttESS. 24$ bling nojse, which she momentarily ex- pected wouhl be followed by a violent explosion ; that would, probably, bury her and her family — whom she might liow have parted with, perhaps, for ever! —This idea filled her with such a degree Qf terror, that she felt almost unable to support herself, and, at last, grew so op- pressive^ that she was nearly sinking to the ground through mere faintness, when the sight of her family and her friend, arising as it were from the grave, recalled her fleeting senses, and she immediately burst into an hysterical flood of tears. These, though highly salutary to her- self, alarmed them exceedingly. But when, rn a short time she grew more composed, and able to relate the cause of her emotion and terror, they were greatly relieved— for they feared, from the violent grief she had betrayed, that something very dreadful had happened to her. They Avere rejoiced to find it was nothing worse ; and Lord Vaversly M 3 S46 THE ADULTKHESS. chid her, though with gentleness, for being so childish as to suffer herself to be terrified by mere fanciful re- veries. Miss Maitland, however, felt some- what of a similar kind of sensation thrill through her frame, when she glanced her eye towards the Crater of the Volcano, from which had once flowed such a tor- rent of destruction, as to overwhelm whole cities : — and she, as well as Lady Vaversly turned her head another way, for she could not look towards it, without a feeling of horror and dis* gust. As it was now late, they defered in- specting the Museum at Portici, which contained the whole of the articles found in the cities of Herculaneum and Pom- peri, until another day : when it was their intention to devote one exclusively for that purpose. The next day, therefore, having ob- tained permission of the king, without THE ADULTERESS. £4^7 which no person was permitted to inspect the Museum, they rode to Portici ; and amused themselves for a considerable time, in an examination of the several articles found in these interesting cities. Paintings— Instruments for agriculture —others of music— culinary utensils — ornaments— children's toys— nay, even provisions, Avhich still retained their shape, though discoloured and some of them much scorched :— with hundreds of other articles were to be seen in this ex- tensive museum. Though buried under ground for a period of seventeen hundred years ! some of them appeard as fresh as any of the same kind we have now in use, and many of them, of nearly the same fashion. Here, they found so mucK.to admire and interest, that when it was time to return home, they had not in- spected li^lf, of the curiosities it contained, and they, therefore, determined, to £X» amiii^. tb.^ rest a^; some future day.* - 548 THE ADULTERESS. In putting this into effect, and in va- rious excursions to the several islands m the vicinity of the hay, many days Were occupied very pleasantly. But, at length, the vveather grew so excessively hot,. that the females were compelled to remain -in-doors. The health of Lady Vaversly had been much benefitted by these excursions, and once more, " Hope '* enchanting smiled," and she was be- come vhich she had not heard for several years, now once more addressed to her in the language of coni- passion and tenderness, softened her into 280 THE ADULTERESS, tears, the first she had been able to shed ; and she wept sometime without ceasing. For a moment she appeared to forget that he was the husband of another, and faintly cried—*' Oh! Mortimer ! — In '* what a moment of horror do we meet !" — But recollecting herself almost instant- ly, she raised her head from his shoulder, upon w^hich it had before rested, and leaning it upon her hands, whilst her el- bows were placed upon her knees, she continued to weep like an infant. Her companion did not attempt to in- terrupt her; for he was not sorry to see her weep; judging it to be the most salu- tary circumstance, that, just at this^ period, could have happened to her. He hoped it would be the means of restoring her to the free use of her reason ; which he had feared the united effects of terror, grief, and anxiety for her friend, were beginning to settle : and he suffered her for a time to indulge her tears in silence, without any interruption. THE ADULTERESS. S81 He judged wisely. For in a short time she grew much more composed, and was able to converse rationally, though still almost sinking with languor, upon what was best for her to do. To return home was her first wish. Though she feared her trembling limbs would scarcely su2> port her. Yet, her anxiety for the fate of Lady Vaversly; and her present situa- tion, which her restored faculties enabled her to feel more acutely, urged her to make the attempt ; and she arose from the couch upon which they were both seated, and endeavoured to reach the door.- Her strength, however, refusing to keep pace with her wishes, she stag- gered, and would have fallen, had not Lord Mortimer, who expected something of this kind, caught her before she reach- ed the ground, and once more seated her upon the couch. He entreated her to be patient for a short time longer, before she attempted to leave the cottage; as herC; at least, she 282 THE ADULTERESS. would remain secure from harm ; whiehy perhaps, might not be the case if thej attempted to push their way through the public streets. She was compelled to assent to the truth of this. And, as there was no al^ ternative, to make up her mind to endure the inconvenience of remaining some- time Idngei in her present situation. But, it was most irksome. Had there been a third person in the cottage, it would have afforded her some relief. But, to be left, for she knew not how long a period, witht a person to whom she had once been fond- ly attached, but whose presence she had avoided for many years ; and who was now the husband of another — was a situa- tion, which, particularly in her present harassed and languid state, she felt she should not be able to support long, with any degree of fortitude — and she, there- fore, more than once requested him to leave her. '' No, Ellinor.'* Said he- '' not till I THE ADULTIRESS. 2S5 ** sec you in a place of safety. But, is ** my presence then so hateful, as to ren- ** der you thus unmindful of yourself, as ** to wish me to leave you unprotected iji *^ this lone cottage, amid a scene of such ** general consternation and horror?— *^ Alas ! — there was a time— but— ** Nay, my Lord," said she, faintl}^, ■' you must be sensible that your^conduct ** has been—'* "That of a villain!" interrupted he. ** Yes ; Ellinor — towards you, I must '* confess, I have acted most dishonour- *' ably. But it is now too late ! — " Such retrospections are, alas ! unavail* " ing— we cannot recall the past," He^ now paused. But receiving no answer from his companion, who could only weep, again continued — ** Though I own " you have much cause to hate aiid detest *' me, yet, as we have once met again, ** suffer the slight service I have now " been so fortunate as to render you, to *' plead for me in your favour, and iu- 284 THE ADULTERESS. ** duce you to accord me your forgivc- •* ness." "O! my Lord," sighed she,— ^' I ** have no longer any resentment. —For *' the signal service you have so recently " rendered me, accept my most heartfelt ** gratitude— and if my forgiveness— but ** it is a subject upon which I cannot now " enters— Let me, however/ once more " entreat that you will leave me. " "Never, Ellinor! till I have again *' placed you safely under the protection ^* of your friends. But, see, the morn- *' ing dawns through the cottage win- *^ dow, and already seems to have awaken- " ed numerous birds, wiio are gladly hail- •' ing the rising day.'* To Miss Maitland this was a sight most welcome : and she felt her spirits once more revive, as the balmy air of ear- ly morning blew freshly into the cottage. She watched with much eagerness the gradual advances of approaching day ; and had soon the satisfaction of perceiving THE ADULTERESS. 285 that it was quite light; and that the fiery reflection seemed to grow fainter and fainter as the day-spring advanced. These circumstances contributed to re- store her fainting spirits, and to inspire her with new animation— and she now felt assured that she should be able to reach the abode of Lord Vaversly, and again rose for that purpose — but "finding herself unable even to stand unsupported, she was compelled to accept the arm of Lord Mortimer ; who would fain have persuaded her to remain yet a little Ion- ger. She was, however, so anxious to be gone, that he was attempting to lead her to the door, when they heard footsteps on the outside, and the next minute a man and woman entered. They started, at perceiving that some persoj;is had taken possession of their ha- bitation during their absence; and the former thought it necessary to put on SB6 the adulteress. a very fierce look, and to demand their business. Lord Mortimer, however, soon related the circumstances, M'hich had induced them to take refuge under their roof; which the pallid countenance, and trem- bling frame of Miss Maitland very plainly corroborated. The man altered his looks immediately. And begging their pardon, requested they would not hurry them- selves. Whilst the female said, she was sure the Signora did not seem able to set off yet, if she had far to go, for that she trembled now like a leaf. ** Do sit down *^ Signora," continued she, ** you are a* ** welcome as any thing," ** And suppose you fetch the Signora a '^ glass of wine, Jaqueline," said the man, '* for she seems to want a little cheering " up." ** I thank you, my friend !" replied Lord Mortimer, ** but I have already " made free with a little of the wine, THE ADULTERESS. 287 ** which I found in this pitcher; and it ** has been of essential service to this *' lady ; who, I fear, would never have " recovered her senses, had I not, for- " tunately, discovered it upon the shelf.^ ** Ah well !" cried he, *^ you was very " welcome ; — but we have some better '* than that, which my wife shall fetch : ^* and if the Signora will drink a drop of " that, which is special good I it will ^* soon set her on her legs again. And, ^*do ye hear, Jaqueline? bring some ^^ cakes along with ye ; for it won't do *' to drink without eating, and I am pret- ^^ ty sharp myself. But, do pray sit dow^n ** again, Signora, for you are no more '* able to walk to^any distance, than I am ^' to fly up to the moon." Miss Maitland feeling her own inabi- lity, was again compelled to sit down : but as she was no longer alone with Lord Mortimer, her situation appeared less irksome: and, at the request of her hospitable entertainer, drank a httle of 288 THE ADULTERESS. the wine he had praised so highly, and eat a small portion of the cake. *^This has been a terrible night, Sig- ** nor," said the man, addressing himself to Lord Mortimer. '* Such a one, as " would daunt the stoutest heart ! I have ** lived in Naples, now, man and boy *' these fifty years, and I never saw any ** thing to come up to it, nor nothing ** like it ! — Ah well ! it is happy for us, " we did not live at Torre-del-greco !" *' Why there, particularly, my friend ?" enquired Lord ^lortimer. *^ O ! Signor—then I suppose you have ** not heard that it is entirely swallowed "up! — OI had you seen the poor in- ** habitants flying into Naples !" " And the women screaming !— and " the poor little children crying !*' inter- rupted his wife. — *'0! I thought I ** should have dropt with fright !'' " Let me speak, Jaqueliue, will you ?'' said the man ; ** and do you attend to tlic ^* Signora.— Yes," continued he, ''its tru< THE ADULTERESS. 289 ** enough ! every thing* is buried under- *' neath the Lava ! just as Herculaneum " Avas, and that other place, so many, " many hundred yeais ago. — Holy Vir- *' gin ! what a Hght there was !!' ** As long as I live, I shall never forget ^* it !" exclaimed his wife. '' I only *^* wonder I did not drop down dead 1" '* Curiosity kept you alive ;" said her husband. *' For you know you would *' run out with me, when I persuaded ** you to stay at home, and keep out of '* danger. Bat no ; you would be scam- *' pering at my heels." ** How can yputalk so, Jaques ? You " know very well that it was fright only " that made me follow you. Do you " think I could have staid by myself, " when the ground was shaking all about "me; and, perhaps, the next moment " might have swallowed me up ? 1 can't *^ think how you can be so cruel as to ''talk so!" *' Pho ! nonsense!" said the man, vox. I. o 290 THE ADULTERESS. " don't begin to whimper. — But, as I " was saying, Signor, what a light did •* the Lava send all over Naples ! — for ' ' all the Avorld like an illumination ! — ^' and then, what a shower of cinders ! ** aye, and as hot as fire ! — why, the peo- '^ pie were, at last, obliged to take shelter ** under any thing they could find, or, '* they would have gone nigh to be ** scorched to death ! — However, I hope '* it is very nearly over, though as we '' came along it peppered pretty briskly — '^ but we run as fast as we could — and I " rind the cinders did not fly out so far as *' the fields here, for we saw very few as *' we got near home." ** So violent an eruption of Vesuvius, *' has, I suppose, not happened for se- " veral centuries ?" said Lord Mortimer.— ^' For 1 do not recollect any other cities *' that have been buried, except those of ** Herculaneum and Pompeii." *' This is not a city, Signor," said the man, ** that has been swallowed up to- THE ADULTERESS, 291 '^ night; it is only a large town : — though " Torre- del-greco was a very handsome *^ place. However, it is all over with it ! « — Poor Lorenzo! a friend of mine " Signor, who lives there, I wonder whe- ** ther he escaped !" *' Or Margaritta !" said the wife: — " and poor little Pietro 1 I wonder whe- '* ther they had time enough to snatch *' him out of bed ! — O ! what would I ^' give to know !" ** You think then," said Lord Mor- timer, " that the inhabitants of this ill- " fated town, had time to make their *" escape ?" ** I hope so ! Signor, Indeed, I know *' some of them did : for I saw many a " face I knew running down the streets " of our city. For, you must know, the ** very moment we heard that terrible ex- «' plosion, we got out of bed ; clawed on ** our clothes as fast as we was able ; and '' ran out of the house like mad creatures " — nor did we stop till we reached the 29^ THE ADULTERESS. u Quay. But oh ! what a terrible siglit '* it was, to see the mountain flaming— ** the people running— -the women and " children screaming— some fainting— " and others, in a manner dying in the *' streets. O ! if I was to live as long " as St. Jannero, I hope I shall never see " such another sight !" '* O ! it was horrid ! dreadfid !" — ex- '^ claimed his wife. *' But, thanks to *' the Blessed Virgin ! it is once more ** broad day-light ; and, somehow, I am ** not half so terrified as I was in the '* night. In my life before, 1 was never " so glad as I was this morning to see ** the dawn of day— for troubles of any " kind are ten times worse of a dark ** night, than when they happen to fall '* on us in the day time." ^ Miss Maitland whose anxiety for the uncertain ^tate of hci' friend occupied her every thought, had scarcely attend- ed to this conver-sation, but sat, in a state of abstraction witi^ her eyes fixed THE ADULTERESS. . S9S on the door. Until Lord Mortimer, who had been attentively observing her, enquired, if she found herself any better? or, if she thought her strength now suf- ficiently recruited to make another at- tempt at returning home. ** O, yes;" answered she, with quick- ness, and immediately starting up, said — ** 1 am now so much relieved from my ** faintness, that I am quite able to walk *^ home. The wine has been of infinite *^ service to me." Lord Mortimer said he only waited her pleasure. And, after thanking the worthy cottagers for tlieir hospitality, and leaving a handsome sum with the female, as a remuneration for her kind- ness, they, at last, quitted the cottage, and bent their steps, though very slowly, towards the abode of Lord Vaversly. END OF VOL. I. Printed by W. Giendinning, Hatton Garden, Londoa. ■ ft." ERRATA, l^age 16, Iltie 7,ybr effects read affecls. 19, 7, for come read came. 20, — ^ 21, for ad reorf added. 118, ■— 7, for robed read robbed, 128, -«— 22, ^or every of read every one *f 1G9) »-*^ I2j /or Jnded rwrf indeed. 4