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 TREMORDYN CLIFF 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 Digitized by the Internet Arcinive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/tremordyncliff01trol
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF, 
 
 BY FRANCES TROLLOPE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE AMERICANS^" &C. 
 
 ( 
 
 ^'' T.?^.SEAL ^ 
 
 A 4! GRr.r^OE p-«? ,^ 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 1835.
 
 LONDON: 
 
 IBOTSON AND PALMER, VRINTEUS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND,
 
 fX3 
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I can see his pride 
 
 Peep through each part of him. 
 
 SllAKSPEAllE. 
 
 There is a certain part of the coast of Corn- 
 wall so boldly precipitous, that were the whole 
 island fenced as well, we might bid defiance to 
 all danger from without, at no greater chai^ge or ^p^ 
 trouble than just preventing an enemy from using 
 ■ scaling ladders. Those who are familiar with 
 ^^ this coast know, that there is at one point of it, 
 ^ perched in the very middle of the rocky wall, 
 t>„.^ some rude and ill-defined remnants of a build- 
 ^' ing made with hands ; and all who have sought 
 to view this relic from the sea — whence only 
 
 VOL. I. ' B 
 
 '?K 
 
 ■"*(
 
 2 TIIEMORDYX CLIFF. 
 
 it can be completely seen — know likewise, that 
 the mode used by the curious antiquary for this 
 purpose, is to suffer himself to be let down, 
 boat and all, by pullies from the cliff. A ma- 
 noeuvre, which, however clumsy and unsailor- 
 like, has not unfrequently been resorted to of 
 late years. 
 
 As it is neither necessary nor convenient to 
 be too precise in the geography of a story, inas- 
 much as it may set carping critics to work out, 
 by the aid of their maps, a clear demonstration 
 of blunders, I shall enter upon no farther de- 
 scription of the general locality of the scene 
 where my narrative begins, than by stating that 
 it was at no great distance from the part of the 
 Cornish coast above mentioned, and that it par- 
 took also of those softer features which fre- 
 quently make that rude and rocky region as- 
 sume the aspect of a garden ; myrtles being 
 seen to contest with rocks, and gales, mild as 
 those of Eden, felt to divide the year with 
 storms, that make even the native mariners trem- 
 ble as they name them. 
 
 High, lonely, and -apart upon a noble emi-
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 3 
 
 nence, which terminates a sheltered combe, slop- 
 ing gently downward to the lowest point of the 
 cliff, stands the stately residence of the Earl of 
 Tremordyn and Gatcomb. At the time my 
 story begins, the noble owner bore the former 
 title only ; that of Gatcomb being acquired by 
 his successor, from the successful termination of 
 a lawsuit, by which the family gained a very 
 large accession of property, and with it, permis- 
 sion from the crown to add the name of the 
 principal estate to the titles of their house. 
 
 Lord Tremordyn was one instance, among the 
 millions with which the earth teems, that not 
 even the possession of what the heart most co- 
 vets, can ensure content. Chief of a race whose 
 honours and whose name were held by him as 
 second to none on earth in the unchallenged pu- 
 rity of high descent, he lived for years the fret- 
 ful victim of disappointed hope and mortified 
 ambition ; for, during the first fifteen years Q^]^(fl 
 his married life, he had invoked the gods ii y y 
 vain for a son to inherit them. The morbid 
 vehemence of his grief at this disappointment"^ ' 
 was the less pardonable, because his was one of, , 
 
 B2 f^' 
 
 } r
 
 4 ■ TREMOEDYN CLIFF. 
 
 those rarely privileged houses whose nobility 
 bends before no saliclaw, but is transmitted in a 
 direct line from parent to offspring, whether 
 male or female. 
 
 Of six daughters, Lady Augusta, the eldest, 
 alone survived, and as her health was perfect, and 
 her constitution gave every indication of strength, 
 many who knevv the interior of the household 
 attributed the weakness and early death of those 
 who were born after her, to the failing health of 
 their mother, whose sensitive spirit could ill sus- 
 tain the hourly fretfulness, the daily increasing 
 coldness, the frequent harshness, and even vio- 
 lence, of a husband, whose sole cause of com- 
 plaint against her was, that she bore him daugh- 
 ters instead of sons. 
 
 Notwithstanding his keen feeling of grief for 
 this disappointment, ard the unworthy manner 
 in which he showed it. Lord Tremordyn was 
 sufficiently proud of the privilege which per- 
 mitted even a daughter of his race to carry 
 down its titles to posterity. While his temper, 
 naturally austere, and now soured to morose- 
 ness, rendered it a misery to his young heiress to
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 5 
 
 approach him, he exacted for her from all others 
 a degree of respect and homage which might 
 have befitted the apparent successor to a throne. 
 The cultivation of her talents, which, in truth, 
 were of no common order, was confided to able 
 and assiduous instructors; but for the educa- 
 tion of her heart and temper, she had no other 
 preceptor than the circumstances in which she 
 was placed, and these were not such as to soften 
 the points of character in which she resembled 
 her father, or to foster such of better or nobler 
 quality as were peculiar to herself. 
 
 Her childhood passed in one continued series 
 of irksome discipline ; no amusement was suffi- 
 ciently dignified for her to partake in, no indul- 
 gence sufficiently free from peril for her to pro- 
 fit by ; words of caution, forbiddance, and re- 
 straint, were the only ones addressed to her, ex- 
 cepting when her present importance and fu- 
 ture greatness were dwelt upon. 
 
 Such being the case, it is hardly wonderful 
 that this exception early became the only charm 
 and solace of her existence ; for unhappily she 
 found not, in her mother's caresses, that warmth
 
 b TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 of affection which might have consoled her for 
 the want of every thing else. Though of a 
 nature that might have been moulded into all 
 that is kindest and most endearing. Lady Tre- 
 mordyn had not force of character, or con- 
 stancy of purpose, sufficient to sustain her under 
 the circumstances in which she was placed ; and 
 while mourning the want of the boon denied, 
 she sought not to find consolation from that « 
 which was granted. The manners, and perhaps 
 in some degree the affections, of her little girl, 
 were chilled by the rigid ritual of ceremony in 
 which she lived, and the countess had not ener- 
 gy sufficient to break through this wall of ice, 
 in order to seek and find the heart of her child. 
 
 From her mother, therefore, she derived lit- 
 tle comfort. In fact, the unhappy and neglect- 
 ed lady was so often left (upon the suggestion 
 that fatigue might be injurious) to wear away 
 her days in the solitude of Tremordyn castle, 
 while the young heiress was taken to London 
 for the advantage of masters, that months often 
 elapsed without their meeting. 
 
 Lady Augusta's station in her father's family
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 7 
 
 thus daily became one of more importance, 
 though not of greater enjoyment ; and daily 
 did she draw more largely on the offerings to 
 her pride, and the prospect of future power, to 
 supply the deficiency of all present sources of 
 gratification. 
 
 She had just completed her fourteenth year, 
 when it was publicly announced to the house- 
 hold that the Countess of Tremordyn was again 
 pregnant. It was more than five years since 
 her last confinement, but so constant had been 
 the disappointments preceded by a similar event, 
 that the earl, though his heart again swelled 
 with hope, gave no outward demonstration of it, 
 and it was only a few months before the birth 
 of the child, that the family were avowedly per- 
 mitted to know that it was expected. 
 
 It was Mrs. Morel, Lady Augusta's gover- 
 ness, who had the charge of communicating 
 this intelligence to her. This lady had consider- 
 able ability, and still more instruction — but for 
 nearly thirty years she had been a governess ; 
 for nearly thirty years she had been learning to
 
 8 TREMORDYN CLIFP. 
 
 exchange the deep-felt realities of her own in- 
 dividual existence, for a succession of domestic 
 connections, all alike foreign to her blood and 
 her heart, yet all alike demanding as lively and 
 demonstrative an interest, as if indeed each 
 successive set, formed her only family, and her 
 only care. Such an existence can hardly leave 
 much reality of feeling for any one, and it was 
 with more propriety than sympathy, that she 
 now announced to her pupil an event which 
 threatened to overthrow the only hope that 
 made life dear to her. 
 
 '' My lord has desired me, Lady Augusta, 
 to inform you, that the countess is about to pre- 
 sent him with another child. Lady Tremordyn 
 is to come to town in a few months for her con- 
 finement." 
 
 One of the peculiarities of character produced 
 by Lady Augusta's moral education, was the 
 habit of restraining the expression of all emo- 
 tion either by word or action. It was also her 
 habit, on receiving directions relative to her stu- 
 dies from her governess, to listen to them rather
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 9 
 
 in haughty, than respectful silence, and to fol- 
 low, but never to remark upon them. 
 
 Such being the usual tone of their intercourse, 
 the circumstance of Lady Augusta's returning 
 no answer on the present occasion, excited little 
 surprise. A feeling of curiosity led Mrs. Morel 
 to look at her, but Lady Augusta was drawing 
 at the time, and the expression of her counte- 
 nance was completely concealed by her attitude. 
 She remarked, indeed, that her pupil was very 
 pale, but the complexion of Lady Augusta was 
 too sallow to render this particularly remarka- 
 ble, especially while her face was so imperfectly 
 seen. After the pause of a few minutes, Mrs. 
 Morel resumed. 
 
 " I understand my lord says, that if it prove 
 a son, he will give five hundred pounds to the 
 poor of Tremordyn, to make them remember 
 the event." 
 
 As she said this a slight noise proceeded from 
 Lady Augusta's drawing-desk — it was occa- 
 sioned by her porte-crayon, which fell from her 
 fingers to the ground. Mrs. Morel rose to re- 
 store it, and reached her chair just in time to 
 
 B 5
 
 10 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 receive the senseless form of the young lady 
 upon her bosom. 
 
 When a governess has brought up many ge- 
 nerations of pupils, with a reputation of great 
 propriety and good sense, she may often supply 
 by judgment, what she wants in feeling. Mrs. 
 Morel gave proof of this on the present occasion ; 
 she rang no bell, she called for no assistance, 
 but taking her pupil in her arms she laid her 
 upon a sofa, and by the usual remedies soon 
 succeeded in restoring her senses. Nor did her 
 discretion cease here, as the unhappy girl reco- 
 vered herself, no look of surprise, no glance of 
 curiosity, shocked or irritated her feelings. 
 
 " Your ladyship has been too intent upon 
 your drawing this morning,^' said Mrs. Morel, in 
 her usual quiet tone. " We will put it up, if 
 you please ; my lord by no means approves 
 your ladyship's fatiguing yourself by too much 
 exertion, even in your studies." 
 
 And as she spoke, she employed herself in 
 replacing the drawings in the portfolio, setting 
 back the drawing-desk, and removing all traces 
 of the occupation.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 11 
 
 Lady Augusta drew a long and painful 
 breath, pressed her hand strongly upon her 
 heart, and makincr a violent effort to recover 
 herself, arose from the sofa, and in her usual 
 cold and distant tone replied, 
 
 " I believe you are right, ma'am, my head 
 aches this morning. I will beg you to give or- 
 ders that no other master shall be admitted — 
 and I should wish to take my airing imme- 
 diately." 
 
 Thus passed the first, and almost the only 
 outward demonstration of the agony which this 
 intelligence occasioned Lady Augusta. But 
 what she suffered must not be measured by 
 what others saw. Ardent in temperament, 
 proud to excess, both by nature and education, 
 and vehement in every sentiment that had once 
 taken psosession of her mind, her feelings often 
 amounted to torture as she watched the falling 
 off in the deference that was wont to be paid her. 
 The change was unquestionably great, but to 
 her it appeared a thousand times greater : not 
 a menial addressed her without her perceiving, 
 or fancying she perceived some offensive change
 
 12 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 in the tone of voice, or the form of expression. 
 If a language-master attended her, she read in 
 the glance of his eye that he saw not in her, as 
 formerly, the future Countess of Tremordyn, 
 and her soul sickened as she looked round the 
 dull apartment appropriated for her studies, and 
 remembered that no splendid day-dreams of the 
 future must henceforth gild its dreary walls. 
 
 At length the decisive moment came, and the 
 countess gave birth to a son. 
 
 Lady Augusta was alone in her own dressing- 
 room when the intelligence reached her. It was 
 communicated by one of the housemaids, who 
 bounced rudely into the apartment, to seek, as 
 she said, some article of her vocation which she 
 had left there. 
 
 Accustomed to the most respectful observance, 
 Lady Augusta started, and actually rose from 
 her chair, as if to repel the unwonted invasion. 
 
 " Beg pardon, my lady,^' cried the girl, af- 
 fecting to be quite out of breath, " but we are 
 all in such a way at hearing of this joyful bless- 
 ing ! Wish your ladyship joy of your new bro- 
 ther, my lady " and so saying, she bustled 
 
 (■:■
 
 ifc 
 
 I. 
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 13 
 
 out of the room again, not however without 
 giving one steady glance at the pale motionless 
 figure she left. 
 
 " O God ! . .. . cannot I hide myself?" ex- 
 claimed Lady Augusta — "must all eyes see 
 me ? must the very scullions mock me ? and 
 must I bear it?*' 
 
 At that moment the only relief she sought, 
 or thought of, was to be unseen and alone. 
 Her first impulse was to secure the door of 
 her dressing-room — but she remembered that 
 this could not long avail her. Mrs. Morel 
 had gone out in the carriage on some business 
 of her own ; her absence could not be long, 
 and to refuse her admittance when she returned, 
 was impossible. 
 
 She unlocked the door she had fastened, and 
 leaving the room by another which led to her 
 sleeping apartment, began hastily to undress 
 herself. 
 
 " I am ill, very ill," she muttered to herself 
 as she proceeded to prepare for going to bed. 
 " My temples beat and burn — they have only 
 need to touch ray head to know that I do not
 
 14 TREMOllDYN CLIFF. 
 
 feicrn. The bed-clothes shall cover and hide 
 me." 
 
 Lady Augusta was indeed ill, and the atten- 
 tion her condition demanded happily occupied 
 all who approached her, so completely as to give 
 her the power of overcoming the tumult at her 
 heart, before any portion of the care bestowed 
 on her was directed to discover how she bore 
 the change in her situation. 
 
 To all outward appearance, she bore it well ; 
 but it was by an effort above her age that she 
 effected this ; yet so successful was this effort, 
 that her father, who thought it a proper eti- 
 quette to announce the event to her himself, 
 about a week after it happened, assured her 
 governess, that Lady Augusta showed herself 
 a worthy descendant of his house, by the sa- 
 tisfaction which she expressed at hearing it. 
 
 It is true that Lord Tremordyn paid no 
 great attention to the silent workings of the 
 haughty spirit he had trained ; but those whose 
 observation, sharpened by curiosity, was more 
 acute, still saw nothing to remark upon, nothing 
 to repeat, indicative of the real state of her 
 mind.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 15 
 
 Mrs. Morel, indeed, was not without some 
 suspicion of the truth, but she had too much 
 good sense to betray this ; and Lady Augusta 
 was thus permitted to enjoy the only species of 
 relief which she was capable of feeling, namely, 
 the believing that none knew, that none even 
 imagined, the dreadful suffering that was gnaw- 
 ing at her heart ; but the effect of this struggle 
 upon her young and undisciplined mind, was 
 tremendous. 
 
 The birth of the young nobleman took place 
 about the middle of June, and as soon as it 
 was considered safe for the countess to travel, 
 the family removed to Tremordyn castle. No 
 sooner was this removal effected, than the whole 
 attention of the earl was directed towards the 
 ceremony of christening his heir. The pre- 
 parations made for this festival exceeded any 
 thing that the county had ever witnessed. 
 Beacon fires were kindled along the cliff on the 
 night preceding it, to give notice, that the 
 august ceremony, long before announced in the 
 papers, was to take place on the morrow. 
 When these faded before the beams of the
 
 16 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 early sun, trumpets and drums, stationed far 
 and near, called as it should seem on all the 
 world to awake, and witness the glories of that 
 happy day. The ample park was thronged in 
 every part for hours before the unconscious 
 cause of all the din had opened his blue eyes to 
 the morning light, and the castle itself, de- 
 corated with flowers, thronged with guests, and 
 in movement, from its deep cellars even to the 
 pinnacle of its loftiest turret, seemed as if its 
 old walls were themselves animated by the pre- 
 sence of the long-desired heir. 
 
 Despite her now habitual caution ; despite 
 all the powerful efforts she made, that no in- 
 dication of feeling should escape her ; a glance 
 that spoke despair shot from the dark eyes of 
 Lady Augusta, as she gazed at the pompous 
 ceremonies of this gorgeous christening. But 
 her mother saw it not — she was gazing on her 
 infant son. Her proud father saw it not — he 
 was bending to the royal sponsors, and to the 
 mitred prelate who had blessed his heir. No 
 one saw it — no one heeded the tall gaunt pale- 
 faced girl, who stood clasping her hands in
 
 TREAIORDYN CLIFF. 17 
 
 rigid tension, that the trembling of her frame 
 might not betray itself. 
 
 One only object occupied every eye and 
 every thought. Theodore Augustus Edward 
 Delaporte Viscount Steinfort and Baron Haut- 
 lieii, lay pillowed on satin and canopied by 
 velvet before the eyes of the splendid company 
 assembled to witness the ceremony; while tenants 
 and servants crowded the wide saloon to its ut- 
 most limits, and even from the passages leading 
 to it, head over head were seen, thronging to 
 obtain a glimpse of the precious babe. 
 
 Forgotten, totally and literally forgotten by 
 all, the heart-broken Lady Augusta crept from 
 the place assigned her behind her mother's 
 chair, and threading her way amongst the 
 eager crowd, who were still pressing forward 
 to the great saloon, she reached a small dis- 
 tant room appropriated to the steward, and 
 feeling a species of relief from its utter still- 
 ness, sat down gasping for breath, and almost 
 wishing that the roof would fall and bury her, 
 unhonoured and unknown, for ever. 
 
 A large Cornish mantle, such as is still used
 
 18 TllEMORLYN CLIFF. 
 
 by the common people, lay among various hats 
 and bonnets thrown together on a table near 
 her, and at the same moment that it caught 
 her eye, the sound of advancing steps, and the 
 murmur of many voices convinced her, that in 
 another moment a portion of the motley croud 
 would surround her. 
 
 She who, a few short months ago, could not 
 have appeared before any servant of the castle, 
 or any tenant of the estate, without causing an 
 emotion which would either have sent them 
 from her path, or caused them to bow almost 
 to the dust before her, now shrank from being 
 looked at, stared at, pointed at perhaps, as a 
 piteous emblem of fallen greatness. 
 
 She seized upon the coarse cloak, and 
 Avrapped it round her. The hood enveloped 
 her pale features, and its ample folds concealed 
 her person. Hardly knowing whither it led, 
 she passed through an open door, opposite to 
 that by which she had entered, and pursued 
 her way along a passage till she reached the 
 court-yard. She flew along it with the speed 
 of one pursued, traversed the poultry-yard,
 
 TRE:MORDyX CLIFF. ]9 
 
 the bleaching-ground, the orchard ; and then 
 pausing to take breath, and look around her, 
 she found that she had reached a spot familiar 
 to her, as a point often passed in her almost 
 daily drive towards the fine sea view com- 
 manded from the cliff. 
 
 "The sea! — it leads to the sea!" — mur- 
 mured the unhappy girl, hastily following the 
 path she saw before her. It led, too, from the 
 park which spread its wide and wild beauty in 
 front of the castle, and which now studded with 
 booths and tents for refreshments, and crowded 
 with men, women and children, was as dreadful 
 to her as the castle itself. 
 
 " The sea I — it leads to the sea!" she repeated 
 wildly. Her head felt as if it were on fire, yet 
 at the first moment of her pursuing this path, 
 it was no thought of self-destruction that urged 
 her onward; but a longing for the coolness of 
 the breeze from the ocean, and a feeling that 
 stillness, solitude, and rest, would be found on 
 the cliff, which might ease her brain, and calm 
 her mind. 
 
 The track she followed led along the edge
 
 20 TREMORDV^X CLIFF. 
 
 of the high ground, which formed one side of 
 the combe, or little valley, already mentioned ; 
 but a row of magnificent chesnuts sheltered it 
 from the castle windows. " And did they see 
 me," thought she, as she hurried forward, 
 " they would not know me — and did they 
 know me, they would not heed me now.'"* 
 
 With such comfort as these thoughts could 
 give, she slackened her speed, for unused to 
 violent exercise of any kind, her strength was 
 failing fast ; but still she pushed onward to- 
 wards the sea. 
 
 At length she reached a point whence the 
 broad ocean was fully seen ; the trees no longer 
 sheltered her — the ripe and drooping corn no 
 longer hung across her path. She threw back 
 the hood of her mantle, and for a moment ex- 
 perienced a sensation like enjoyment from the 
 unfettered freedom with which she enhaled the 
 breeze; but in the next, the scene she had left 
 rushed back upon her memory— the pomp, the 
 pageantry, the splendour which surrounded her 
 brother — the desolation, neglect, and oblivion 
 tliat were left for her, pressed upon her heart.
 
 TREMORDrX CLIFF. 21 
 
 Again she ran forward over the short soft 
 turf which carpeted the cliff from the point 
 where the corn fields ceased, to the giddy verge 
 that beetled over the ocean. 
 
 Having reached this verge, she stood for the 
 first time in her life upon the bold bare crag 
 that frowned above the surf, and as she gazed 
 with reeling brain upon the depth below, the 
 idea of ending a being which had no longer 
 any charm for her, passed heavily, like a dark 
 cloud, across her mind. 
 
 Unused to look thus over a precipice, with 
 no intervening barrier to relieve the eye, she 
 turned sick and giddy, and felt at the same 
 time so w^eary and so faint, that unable, as it 
 seemed, to make the desperate effort her dark 
 thoughts suggested, she slipped back a pace or 
 two, and, throwing herself upon the ground, 
 gave way to a violent but most salutary burst 
 of tears. 
 
 She wept long and without restraint, and the 
 relief this brought her, both of body and spirit, 
 so soothed and stilled her throbbing nerves, 
 that she lay stretched upon the turf, motionless
 
 22 TIIEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 and insensible, till all sense of sorrow and of 
 suffering was lost in sleep. 
 
 The first moments which followed her awak- 
 ing were strangely miserable. Though the 
 mantle was still wrapped round her, every limb 
 shook with cold, and the situation in which she 
 found herself was so unlike any former awaking 
 that she almost doubted its reality. She sat up 
 and looked wonderingly around her. 
 
 " Can all this be ?" she said aloud, with 
 bitter feeling. " Alone on the cold cliff — a 
 peasant's mantle round me — no eye to watch 
 me— no voice to implore the noble young lady 
 to have care of her precious health. Oh, poor 
 Augusta !" 
 
 And again her tears flowed, and again she 
 was relieved and calmed. The first effect of 
 this restored composure was to turn her thoughts 
 to the consequences of her unprecedented ab- 
 sence from the castle. For a moment she felt 
 terrified at the idea of her father's anger ; but 
 this emotion was chased away by one more 
 painful still : the consciousness of her lost im- 
 portance again pressed heavily on her heart.
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 23 
 
 " He will not know it !" she exclaimed aloud ; 
 " no one will be so mad as to speak to him of 
 me to-day." 
 
 She sprang upon her feet, and again drew 
 near the awful edge of the cliff, while the same 
 gloomy suggestion as before came, like a fiend, 
 to tempt her. 
 
 " That would make them talk of me,"" said 
 she in a low murmur, as she bent forward over 
 the hideous precipice. " The bright white 
 satin robes and mantles must be changed for 
 
 black, dingy, ghastly black ! And, if 
 
 they found my body, they would lay it in the 
 grave as pompously as they christened him this 
 morning . . . but, who would weep for me ? 
 . . . My mother, perhaps, for one short hour; 
 but her son, the noble Theodore Augustus 
 Edward Viscount Steinfort and Baron Haut- 
 lien would soon console her." 
 
 She retreated from the perilous footing as 
 she spoke. 
 
 " No, no ; I will not die. They shall not 
 so soon forget me wholly." So saying, she 
 turned to retrace her steps towards the castle, 
 but her young mind was teeming with strange
 
 24 TEEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 and bitter thoughts ; she stood slill for a mo- 
 ment, and then turned back towards the clifF. 
 
 " I must think before I see them again," she 
 said, once more speaking aloud ; " I must, 
 think long and quietly before I see them." 
 
 She seated herself almost on the very edge of 
 the precipice, and, fixing her eyes on the waves, 
 fell into long and deep meditation. The mind 
 of this unfortunate young girl was of no or- 
 dinary class. Had the vigour and energy, 
 which was one of its most remarkable features, 
 been well directed, and objects worthy her am- 
 bitious spirit placed before her, she would have 
 been a noble creature. As it was, the poor 
 passing pageantry of this world's greatness was 
 all she had been taught to covet as the aim 
 and end of life, and she clung to it with the sup- 
 erstitious zeal with which the mind hugs its 
 false idols, as if instinct taught it to know that 
 where reason is wanting, fanaticism must be 
 strong. 
 
 It would be equally difficult and useless to 
 follow the train of thought that now for a long 
 silent hour occupied the mind of Lady Augusta. 
 Stirrinff circumstances and strong emotions will
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 25 
 
 often, by force, as it were, awaken and pre- 
 maturely expand the intellect. So it was with 
 her. Before she re-entered the castle, a plan 
 for her future conduct was more boldly sketched, 
 and more resolutely decided on, than might be 
 conceived possible for the mind of a girl under 
 fifteen years of age. But Lady Augusta Dela- 
 porte was no ordinary girl, nor was her situation 
 one of such common occurrence as to render it 
 easy to judge whether its effect upon her was 
 other than might naturally be expected as the 
 consequence of such a situation upon a charac- 
 ter like hers. 
 
 Her absence from the castle, as she had half 
 sadly, half hopefully predicted, attracted little 
 attention ; she met no anxious scouts in search 
 of her, and having hung the cloak upon the 
 fence surrounding the flower-garden, she en- 
 tered it by a little hand-gate from the park, 
 and passed unnoticed to the door of a room ap- 
 propriated to herself and her governess, which 
 opened upon the lawn. 
 
 Slie found Mrs. Morel seated there with a 
 friend of the same profession, who had been 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 permitted to attend her pupil, the daughter of 
 a neighbouring noble, to witness the august 
 ceremony of the morning. They were so 
 deeply engaged in conversation that Lady Au-^ 
 gusta had entered at the open window, and half 
 traversed the room before they perceived her. 
 
 " Soh ! — Your ladyship has been wandering 
 irf the gardens all this time then .?**' said Mrs. 
 Morel, when she saw her. " It is fortunate for 
 you, Tiady Augusta, that my lord is too much 
 occupied to discover this strange escapade — and 
 without hat or parasol ! . . . . And your shoes, 
 Lady Augusta ! white satin shoes to walk in ! 
 What can your ladyship have been thinking 
 of.?" 
 
 " I have been suffering from headache, ma- 
 dam," replied the young lady coldly ; '' the 
 air of the crowded saloon was too much heated 
 for me. Has my mother inquired for me .?" 
 
 ** I do not happen to know, Lady Augusta, 
 for I have not seen the countess ; but I think 
 your ladyship had better go to her. Lord 
 Steinfort's cradle has been removed to her 
 dressing-room, and there, I doubt not, you will
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. ^ 
 
 find her, surrounded by many noble ladies, 
 though the company in general are in the grand 
 saloon. His royal highness has not yet left 
 the banquetting room ; so, of course, the gen- 
 tlemen have not moved." 
 
 In return for all this news, Lady Augusta 
 replied with a tone and manner of extreme . 
 hauteur, '" I am going to my room, madam, 
 and I wish you immediately to inform Lady 
 Tremordyn of my reason for doing so." 
 
 So saying, she quitted the apartment, leaving 
 Mrs. Morel more inclined to jest at, than re- 
 sent the haughty tone in which she had been 
 addressed. 
 
 ^' She cannot give it up yet you see. Miss 
 Frampton," said she, addressing her friend ; 
 " but all these airs must die a natural death, I 
 take it, if our young lord lives, and he is the 
 finest child they say that the countess ever had. 
 For my part, I am delighted at our having an 
 heir, for it may bring Lady Augusta to her 
 senses. I assure you, I have sometimes thought 
 that her young ladyship would be for sending 
 out an expedition to the milky-way to pick 
 
 c 2
 
 28 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 stars for her to walk upon — for, upon my word, 
 to see her step sometimes, you would think no- 
 thing on earth was good enough to meet her 
 feet." 
 
 " I greatly wonder that you have endured it 
 so long,**' replied her friend. 
 
 "Why, to do her justice, she never treated 
 me ill," replied Mrs. Morel ; " there is no great 
 fault to find with her, excepting her outrageous 
 pride. So like her father ! But, excuse me 
 for a moment, my dear. I suppose I must do 
 the ex-heiress's bidding, and inform the countess 
 of this head-ache."
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 29 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " My power's a crescent, and my auguring hope says it 
 will come to the full." Shakspeare. 
 
 From this period the life of Lady Augusta 
 gradually underwent a complete change. The 
 stiff and stately routine of daily ceremony was 
 indeed the same, but her individual existence 
 became altogether different. The fidgety watch- 
 fulness of Lord Tremordyn, which in him 
 seemed to take the place of tenderness, for it 
 was thus only he ever testified affection, was 
 now wholly transferred to his son ; and the 
 hours which he formerly employed in torturing 
 his daughter with harangues on the misfortune 
 of her sex, in corrupting her judgment and her
 
 30 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 heart by lectures on her own consequence, and 
 in distracting her studies by incessant interfer- 
 ence, were now fully engrossed in tormenting 
 the attendants of his son by cares as useless 
 and ill-judged. 
 
 This change was undoubtedly a relief, but it 
 brought little pleasure with it, for every proof 
 of relaxed superintendence inflicted a fresh 
 pang, from the evidence it afforded that the 
 high place she once held was now occupied by 
 another. 
 
 Though with such feelings it was impossible 
 she should rejoice in the change, her intellect 
 drew great profit from it. In all that is ac- 
 quired by the ordinary course of instruction, 
 I.ady Augusta had always advanced more ra- 
 pidly than was required of her, and it had 
 often happened that the lesson she could have 
 dispatched with ease in ten minutes, was 
 stretched out to an hour by her governess, to 
 prevent the danger of Lord Tremordyn's ever 
 finding her engaged in idle or undignified em- 
 ployments. 
 
 But all this surveillance had now, to use Mrs.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 31 
 
 Morel's expression, " died a natural death," 
 and for several hours of every day, Lady Au- 
 gusta was left to her own resources. 
 
 For a considerable time after the birth of 
 the heir the whole family remained in Corn- 
 wall, and though no easy or endearing inter- 
 course had ever closely united the mother and 
 daughter, the age of Lady Augusta, as well as her 
 increased freedom, would probably have now led 
 to it, had not the ill-health of Lady Tremordyn 
 confined her during nearly the whole winter to 
 her room. 
 
 This interval was marked by a singularly 
 rapid developement in the mind of the fallen 
 heiress. Her intellect matured itself in a man- 
 ner that no one near her had any idea of. She 
 wrote and read much, but she thought more, 
 and while the progress of the infant lord's 
 teeth, and the growth of his hair, were made 
 subjects of general discussion and universal in- 
 terest throughout the whole castle, and almost 
 throughout the whole county, the character of 
 his neglected sister was acquiring a power 
 greater than all his hereditary honourscouid give. 
 The countess, meanwhile, equally unim-
 
 32 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 portant as her daughter, and equally unob- 
 served, was quietly sinking into the grave, and 
 in less than three years after the birth of her 
 son, was conveyed with all the circumstance 
 that can give dignity to death, from her stately 
 castle to her stately tomb. 
 
 This event made a still more important 
 change in Lady Augusta's manner of life. She 
 was now nearly eighteen, of a tall and com- 
 manding figure, and with an aspect in which 
 firmness of character was so much more con- 
 spicuous than the bloom of youth, that even 
 Lord Tremordyn thought her fully competent 
 to fill the exalted station of mistress of his 
 family. 
 
 At the moment he announced this to her, 
 she might be said to feel the first sensation 
 of pleasure that had reached her heart since 
 the birth of her brother ; but it was not such 
 as to produce the smallest external emotion. 
 With no flash of heightened colour on her 
 smooth but sallow cheek, with no sparkle of 
 light and youthful joy from her large but 
 deep-set eye, Lady Augusta received her 
 father'^s command to take her deceased mother's
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 33 
 
 place as mistress of Treniordyn Castle, — much 
 in the style with which an emperor in days 
 of yore might have accepted his crown from 
 the electors whose proudest privilege was to 
 bestow it. The bow by which she seemed to 
 indicate her compliance with, rather than any 
 gratitude for, his decision, and the few words 
 of ceremonious respect with which it was ac- 
 companied, accorded so well with the haughty 
 spirit of Lord Tremordyn, that he looked and 
 listened, as at the reflection and the echo of 
 himself. 
 
 ^Vith all the full-blown satisfaction which 
 such a feeling could give, he bowed with 
 stately condescension in return, and said, 
 " Permit me to observe. Lady Augusta, that 
 the lord of Tremordyn castle holds himself 
 happy in the possession of a daughter whom 
 he can place with such entire satisfaction in a 
 situation so exalted — a station which the dauffh- 
 
 o 
 
 ter of such a house alone could be capable of 
 filling with appropriate dignity, — and one, let 
 me also remark, more fitting, according to the 
 spirit of feudal chivalry and feudal power, for 
 
 c 5
 
 34 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 a female to hold, than that which you have 
 happily escaped by the birth of the Lord 
 Steinfort. 
 
 Again Lady Augusta bowed, and now some- 
 thing more lowly than before, for a slight 
 fluttering at the heart made her fear lest the 
 traitor blood should give notice on her cheeks 
 of what was passing within. 
 
 A moment, however, sufficed to restore her 
 firmness, and she said, without the slightest 
 trace of any feeling beyond what she wished to 
 express, " May I then, my lord, consider my- 
 self at liberty to decline the farther attendance 
 of Mrs. Morel ? The mistress of Lord Tre- 
 mordyn's family must want no governess to 
 lead her." 
 
 " Most assuredly," replied Lord Tremordyn, 
 again delighted and astonished at the treasure 
 he had found in the newly-discovered, though 
 hereditary, dignity of his daughter ; " most as- 
 suredly, your ladyship is at liberty to dismiss 
 Mrs. Morel, or any other female in the castle — 
 except, indeed," he added, suddenly checking 
 himself, " except, indeed, those attached to
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 35 
 
 Lord Steinforfs establishment. Nothing re- 
 specting that important portion of the house- 
 hold can — as your ladyship must be w^ll aware 
 — be decided without very mature deliberation, 
 in which not only myself, but the medical ad- 
 visers of the family must take a part." 
 
 To this speech she replied with perfect self- 
 possession, and the earl retired, leaving his 
 noble daughter to meditate on her new podtion. 
 
 Not even for a moment did Lady Augusta 
 mix or confound in her mind the ideas of the 
 permanent self-emanating splendour she had 
 lost, with the delegated and precarious power 
 now bestowed upon her ; and in the pleasure 
 which she felt, there was less of gratified pride 
 for the present, than of strengthened ambition 
 for the future. 
 
 The earliest exercise of this power was shown 
 in the dismissal of her governess. Through 
 some real, and more pretended blindness on 
 the part of Mrs. Morel to the canker which 
 was eating into the heart of her pupil, Lady 
 Augusta had discerned symptoms of her having 
 sometimes dared to guess that she was unhappy.
 
 36 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 Timidly, vaguely, and darkly indeed, had 
 the governess read something of what was pass- 
 ing in a mind whose depth of thought was as 
 much beyond her power to fathom, as its 
 vigour was beyond her strength to guide or 
 rule ; but that she should have ventured to 
 read any thing there, was enough to make her 
 hateful to her proud pupil. 
 
 No indication, however, of this feeling escaped 
 her, as she announced that it was her father's 
 pleasure she should assume the station of mis- 
 tress of his family, which would render it 
 equally unnecessary for her, and unpleasing for 
 Mrs. Morel, to request the farther continuance 
 of her services. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the dignified propriety 
 with which this notification was made, pre- 
 cluding alike both remonstrance and offence. 
 
 Within a fortnight after this first exercise 
 of her power Mrs. Morel departed ; and Lady 
 Augusta felt fully, for the first time, how dear 
 to her heart, and conformable to her nature, 
 was the privilege which enabled her to say to 
 one, " Go,'' and he goeth, and to another, " Do 
 this,'' and he doeth it.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. d/ 
 
 But great as was the satisfaction which this 
 station of command brought to her, that which 
 her father derived from her manner of sustain- 
 ing it, was ahnost equally so. In truth she ap- 
 peared to have acquired a new being, at least 
 during the hours in which she permitted herself 
 to be visible. Till this period the only pecu- 
 liarities which had externally distinguished her 
 were the great rapidity with which she acquired 
 every thing but music — (the stern, though 
 passive antipathy she manifested for this science 
 had early discarded it from her studies) — her 
 habitual silence and reserve, a remarkable 
 averseness to the society of young persons of 
 her own age, and a most pertinacious distaste 
 for any gaudy or striking decoration of her 
 person, which was indeed but little calculated 
 to benefit by it. 
 
 Her features were not ill-formed, but large, 
 and unpleasantly disproportioned to the size of 
 her small head, and of her thin and sallow 
 face ; and even her eyes, which from their size, 
 shape, and colour, might be considered hand- 
 some, rather increased than diminished the
 
 38 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 disagreeable effect of her countenance, from the 
 large dark hollow that encircled them, and 
 which, together with the strongly marked eye- 
 brows, and long black lashes, gave so heavy a 
 shade to the vipper part of it, as to produce an 
 air of almost Egyptian swarthiness. Add to 
 this an immoderate, and to her most useless 
 quantity of coal-black hair, heavily arranged, 
 and a long, gaunt, thin figure, of at least five 
 feet eight inches, and it will be evident that 
 there was little in her appearance to awaken 
 any feeling of personal vanity, or excite the 
 love of ornament. 
 
 But from the time she assumed this distin- 
 guished position in her father's family a re- 
 markable alteration was perceptible ; her silence 
 and reserve were changed for the most courtly 
 and dignified address, her averseness to show 
 herself was succeeded by such an evident, but 
 not ungraceful consciousness of her own im- 
 portance, as seemed to make her presence in 
 high places a duty which she owed to her sta- 
 tion, and from which she could no longer permit 
 herself to shrink.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 39 
 
 She had hitherto paid very little outward 
 attention to her young brother, but he now 
 became the principal occupation of her life. 
 She appeared, indeed, to have no other objects 
 in existence than the worthily fulfilling the du- 
 ties assigned her by her father, and that of 
 attaching the affections of the little boy to 
 herself. 
 
 This last object was easily attained, for the 
 worship his proud father paid him had no mix- 
 ture of tenderness in it, and all the caressing 
 fondness, so necessary and so dear to the heart 
 of a child, which fell to the lot of Lord Stein- 
 fort, came from his sister. The result of this 
 was a degree of passionate and devoted affection 
 on his part, that might well have repaid all 
 her care. 
 
 Nothing, perhaps, will tend to give the reader 
 so just an idea of the state of Lady Augusta's 
 mind, as extracting occasional passages from a 
 journal in which for several years she had ac- 
 customed herself to insert whatever passed in 
 her very inmost soul. 
 
 A girl who either to mother, sister, friend, or
 
 40 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 
 
 companion, had been used to pour forth the 
 little joys and sorrows of her heart, would pro- 
 bably never have kept such a journal at all, or 
 if she had, it would not have seemed to her so 
 solemn a business as it did to Lady Augusta. 
 
 Never, but in the hours of the most assured 
 solitude did she venture to indulge in this 
 silent opening of the heart, and then it seemed 
 to her a relief, almost as great as the sympathy 
 of friendship to another. 
 
 Not only were these secret volumes the depo- 
 sitories of her pleasures and her pains, of her 
 hopes and her fears, but they held also the re- 
 cord of her deep resolves, her fixed and sted- 
 fast purposes, her unvarying and unshrinking 
 resolutions ; and no one, however exalted in 
 feeling, who had pledged themselves to those 
 most loved and reverenced, for the performance 
 of some great and noble deed, would have 
 shrunk with deeper shame from falsifying their 
 promise, than this young girl from failing to 
 perform what she had written there. 
 
 The hours devoted to this occupation were 
 always stolen from the night, and so jealous
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 41 
 
 was she that none might guess how these hours 
 were spent, that the morning light never showed 
 a trace even to herself of their employment. 
 
 A little boudoir, occupying one floor of a 
 turret to which her bed-room opened, was the 
 scene of this sort of nightly confession. Into 
 this remote apartment she entered after her 
 maid had left her, and even then, though sure 
 of not being molested, the door was bolted be- 
 fore she began to write. This boudoir was a 
 small, but beautiful room, of an octagon form, 
 and isolated from the castle, excepting on one of 
 its sides. Three windows, each commanding a 
 different and very lovely view, occupied, to- 
 gether with the door, the alternate sides of the 
 room, the intervening ones being filled by book- 
 shelves. The little fire-place was below one of 
 the windows, which in the winter was closed by 
 one large shutter, having a noble mirror set in 
 it. A balcony, upon which the other two win- 
 dows opened, ran round the whole turret, 
 making it, perhaps, the prettiest, though the 
 smallest apartment in the castle. 
 
 Upon Lady Tremordyn's death, her large
 
 42 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 and splendid set of rooms were offered for the 
 use of Lady Augusta by her father, but her 
 love for this quiet turret led her to decline the 
 exchange. 
 
 So sacred had she taught her attendants to 
 consider this retreat, that none ever ventured to 
 enter it, unless very certain of her being absent ; 
 and had any been sent to seek her there it is 
 probable they would have declined the errand 
 in terms easily converted into 
 
 " No living wight save the ladj alone 
 May dare to cross that threshold-stone." 
 
 This lone chamber was the birth-place and 
 cradle, as well as the repository of her thoughts. 
 It was thence that she gazed through a long 
 and misty avenue towards a dazzling future — it 
 was here that she gloomily wrought the tangled 
 web, by means of which she proposed to effect 
 her will ; and it was here that, night by night, 
 and day by day, she pondered over the time, 
 the manner, and the place for carrying it into 
 execution. 
 
 The first extract 1 shall select from her 
 journal was written about a month after the
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 43 
 
 departure of Mrs. Morel, and when the habit of 
 having the little boy with her for several hours 
 of every day, was fully established. 
 
 '' 6th May, 1814.— This child is lovely as 
 the fabled creatures said to fill the space in ex- 
 istence between gods and men. But shall I 
 quit my stedfast purpose for this? — Lord 
 Steinfort, no." 
 
 At a date six months later, I find the follow- 
 ing passage : — 
 
 " How nobly does power grow and strengthen 
 itself by exercise ! Have philosophers made all 
 that they might of this ? — I doubt it. Nature 
 in her whole wide volume has no characters so 
 plain as those in which she shows that man 
 forms not one link oiily, in the chain of exist- 
 ences. Trace creation upwards from a grain of 
 sand to the great cause of all, and the African 
 whose bony hand and flattened nose show 
 strange affinity with his fellow denizen of the
 
 44 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 forest, will be found to differ not, (save by the 
 immortal spark of which we prate so vaguely,*) 
 one-thousandth part so much from his neigh- 
 bour ape, as from the noble creature, who, rea- 
 soning of all things both in earth and heaven, 
 guiding all things, ruling all things, seems second 
 only to the being who made him." 
 
 ^ % % ' ^ # 
 
 " 8th Oct. 1820.— Theodore must love me, 
 for it is so I mean to rule him. I would the 
 boy were less endearing ! Yet it is but a silly 
 child. Nevertheless his blue eyes have a beauty, 
 a tenderness in them, that would go to any 
 heart less seared — less blighted than mine. But 
 can / fear infection from his puling spirit ? . . . . 
 
 I ! ! r 
 
 # * * * * 
 
 " 23rd. — My father must dismiss his valet, 
 and that without delay. The worm ! . . . 
 Dares he to meet my eye ? . . . Did I mistake 
 him, or did he in truth seek to read my mean- 
 ing in my face, when I forbade them to let the 
 
 * " 1 do entreat the courteous reader to believe" that Lady 
 Augusta Delaporte's philosophy is not that of the author.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 45 
 
 child see his little Arabian while I was absent. 
 His pleasures must all come from me, — his 
 pleasures, his existence, his destiny. But no 
 saucy groom must remark and reason on it." 
 
 Vp ^ ^ '4V TV* 
 
 " 24th. — He is gone, as all shall go who cross 
 my path."" 
 
 ■^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 
 " 7th July, 1822.— If I made the philosophy 
 of the human mind my study, I could hardly 
 have devised abetter series of experiments upon 
 it than are exhibited by the intercourse between 
 my father and me ; eleven years ago he would 
 wring his hands in bitterness of spirit because 
 the honours of his house were in danger of 
 falling into the weak and powerless grasp of a 
 woman ! A son was born to him, and the 
 valueless girl thrust aside, — her pride trodden 
 underfoot, her feelings outraged, and herself 
 forgotten. And now what is she .''... Is there 
 one voice throughout the wide domain that dare 
 raise a whisper to refuse what she commands ? 
 Is there one so bold as to plead an instant for 
 what she forbids ? Does the lord of the castle
 
 46 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 himself, the mighty male of the noble race, 
 does he own a thought that draws not its origin 
 from her?... from her! — the despised, neg- 
 lected, forgotten daughter ! And what has 
 worked the change ! Has the precious son died 
 to reinstate her ? Has the proud father yielded 
 up his pride ? Has the unsightly girl ripened 
 into such womanly beauty as may dazzle the 
 eye and confound the understanding ? . . . No — 
 the boy yet lives, unmatched in loveliness — the 
 father^s pride has waxed a thousand-fold more 
 strong — and for the beauty of the tawny girl, 
 if it be something mended, if her solitary mirror 
 tells to her secret soul that she might be beauti- 
 ful, she seeks to hide the paltry ornament as 
 others hide deformity ; — the lofty brow, the 
 brightened eye, are shaded jealously by matron 
 lace, and at twenty-five, did not the prating 
 peerage set them right, Augusta Delaporte 
 might pass for forty. What, then, has caused 
 the change ? A potent power that like the 
 aristocracy of heaven, is vested in the spirit — 
 the power of mind. Work on, ye levellers — 
 babble of liberty and equal rights. As easy
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 47 
 
 were it for ye, rampant reptiles, to make your 
 blinking rushlights outshine the glorious sun, as 
 to make all men equal. 
 
 * Strength will be lord of imbecility,' 
 
 and where is the dunghill-born degenerate wing 
 that can follow the flight of the eagle?" 
 
 In reveries such as these did the spirit of 
 Lady Augusta revel in the solitude of her 
 chamber ; but potent as was the impulse which 
 governed all her actions, its movement disturbed 
 not the dignified calmness of her outward bear- 
 ing. Like a deep stream, smooth and unruf- 
 fled on the surface, but powerful, resistless, 
 overwhelming, her will seemed to carry all be- 
 fore it ; yet though all felt the effect, she suf- 
 fered none to guess that she alone produced it.
 
 48 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 That my teaching, 
 And the strong course of my authority, 
 Might go one way. Shakspeare. 
 
 It was not till after Lord Steinfort had 
 reached his eleventh birthday, that the Earl of 
 Tremordyn bethought him of the necessity of 
 providing some assistants to Lady Augusta, in 
 the important business of his education. 
 
 It may be doubted if the necessity for this 
 would have suggested itself to him, even then, 
 
 had not the Duke of B asked him, at a 
 
 large dinner party, whether it were his inten- 
 tion to distinguish either of the public schools 
 of the realm by entrusting the education of his 
 heir to its professoi's.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 49 
 
 Though there was sometliing in the pompous 
 tone of this inquiry which suggested the idea 
 of quizzing, to the less magnificent minded of 
 its hearers. Lord Tremordyn was only con- 
 scious of its immense importance, and replied, 
 "You ask, my lord duke, what no light 
 moment of colloquial intercourse can enable me 
 to answer. It is in truth a question upon which 
 I. must meditate myself, and consult also with 
 some friends I have among the bishops. The 
 opinion of the primate, too, ought to be taken, 
 nor shall it be neglected ; his grace of York, 
 though personally a stranger to me, will like- 
 wise, it cannot be doubted, willingly afford the 
 assistance of his counsel on such an occasion. 
 When the subject shall thus have received the 
 attention due to it. I shall decide on the result, 
 and shall have pleasure in communicating that 
 decision to your grace.'' 
 
 Several years, however, before this period 
 arrived. Lady Augusta had already taken the 
 subject into silent consideration, and had fully 
 decided the point, without reference to any 
 other counsellor than her own will. There 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 
 
 were few subjects upon which general reading 
 could give information, of which Lady Augusta 
 was ignorant ; and she was fully aware, that a 
 public school is calculated to give too much 
 self-dependent boldness of character, not to 
 militate against the scheme of mental disci- 
 pline which she had laid down for her brother. 
 Her own heart, and the manuscript of the 
 turret, however, were the only witnesses of 
 these meditations ; and when her father sent to 
 request that he might have the honour of con- 
 versing with her for an hour in the drawing- 
 room, he opened upon the subject, nothing 
 doubting that it was as new to her as to him- 
 self. 
 
 " I have requested the presence of your lady- 
 ship at this particular time," he began, " for 
 the purpose of communicating to you my 
 opinions relative to the future education of the 
 Lord Steinfort. Though the final decision of 
 this weighty matter will of course be reserved 
 for my own bosom, it may nevertheless be not 
 unprofitable to receive the opinions of the arch- 
 bishops and bishops on the subject ; but before
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 51 
 
 addressing myself to them, I have wished to 
 hold some conversation with your ladyship, not 
 so much, I confess, for the purpose of asking 
 advice, as for the satisfaction of stating my 
 ideas to one whose exalted lineage and high 
 hereditary talent has given her powers of 
 judgment greatly beyond those possessed by 
 ordinary females." 
 
 To this speech Lady Augusta replied, 
 " On no occasion, my lord, do I so proudly 
 feel the value of the high prerogative derived 
 from my noble birth, as when it authorizes me 
 to share the counsels of Lord Tremordyn." 
 
 A most gracious smile accompanied the wave 
 of the hand with which he invited her to place 
 herself on the sofa ; then seating himself op- 
 posite to her, he resumed. 
 
 '•' I am conscious of, and acknowledge with 
 great satisfaction, the especial intervention of 
 providence in delaying the birth of a male heir 
 to the house of Tremordyn, till a daughter of 
 that remarkable race had attained an age which 
 might enable her to add the minute and de- 
 licate observations of a highly refined female 
 
 D 2
 
 52 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 mind, to the loftier and bolder counsels of the 
 male, on the important subject of his education. 
 Since the demise of my countess, Lady Au- 
 gusta, I have had frequent occasion to remark 
 the exalted character of her daughter, and I 
 cannot but feel that though Lady Tremordyn 
 was very nobly born, (her father's rank being 
 ducal, and with a mixture too of royal blood,) 
 1 cannot, I say, but remark, that a female de- 
 scendent from the Tremordyn stock surpasses 
 her, by a mind bearing from nature the stamp 
 of that nobility which is assuredly among the 
 purest in the world, and which by law it is es- 
 pecially permitted her in her own person to 
 sustain, rather than it should perish from the 
 earth.'' 
 
 Lady Augusta bowed with dignity, but very 
 low, in acknowledgment, and the earl pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " History informs us. Lady Augusta, that 
 the public schools of England have been 
 honoured, and in truth immortalized, by the 
 patronage and fellowship of some of the noblest 
 houses in tlie kingdom. This invests them
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. -53 
 
 with a degree of dignity that no mere scholar- 
 ship could ever bestow, and entitles them to so 
 high a degree of consideration, as justifies my 
 turning my attention to the system of education 
 they adopt, while meditating on that, which 
 may be most fitting to the Lord Viscount Stein- 
 fort, future Earl of Tremordyn ; otherwise I 
 must confess to your ladyship, that the epithet 
 PUBLIC does in no small degree offend my feel- 
 ings, as chief of a race in whom is vested rights 
 and privileges, to which crowned heads have 
 
 aspired in vain a public school does 
 
 indeed sound ill to my ears." 
 
 Lady Augusta threw down her eyes, shook 
 her head, and sighed. 
 
 " Fear not to reply. Lady Augusta," re- 
 sumed her father, in a tone of condescending 
 encouragement, " your ladyship has a right, 
 as a daughter of the house of Tremordyn, to 
 speak without reserve before its chief; es- 
 pecially when that chief, as in the present 
 instance, explicitly permits you so to do.'" 
 
 " Your lordship," said the young lady, 
 raising her large eyes to his face; "your
 
 54 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 lordship has in one word said all that the long 
 meditating wisdom of others could suggest. 
 How indeed could a public school be a fitting- 
 arena for one so every way marked and re- 
 moved from the public herd, as Theodore 
 Augustus Edward, Viscount Steinfort, and 
 future Earl of Tremordyn !" 
 
 The blood of the earl mounted higher than 
 his wig would permit the triumphant eyes of 
 
 Lady Augusta to follow it. " Such 
 
 such indeed are my feelings — your ladyship 
 
 has understood me rightly. The Duke of B 
 
 thought but lightly of what he said, when he 
 named the possibility of such indecent pro- 
 fanation." 
 
 " His Grace of B , my lord, boasts no 
 
 such distinguishing privileges as belong to you ; 
 and noble though he be, he may not regret 
 an occasion of so expressing himself, as to show 
 that he does not deem the Tremordyn, a race 
 apart, more than his own." 
 
 '' How fine and subtle is a woman's wit, 
 when polished by high birth !"" exclaimed the 
 delighted earl : *' your ladyship is right —so
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 55 
 
 only, can such gross blundering be understood 
 .... But the archbishops, and the bishops, 
 Lady Augusta ? .... It was before a numerous 
 and a noble company, that I pledged myself to 
 take their counsel in this matter." 
 
 " The declaration was worthy of your lord- 
 ship, as was the wise and well-weighed purpose 
 which led to it. To whom with such propriety 
 could Lord Tremordyn apply for the recom- 
 mendation of some respectable private gentle- 
 man, whose high character and scholarship may 
 entitle him to the honour of residing in your 
 family, as preceptor to your son .^" 
 
 The earl's admiration grew with every word 
 his daughter uttered, as indeed seldom failed to 
 be the case, when the conversation fell upon 
 any subject on which her ladyship had an 
 object to gain. 
 
 Some few more flourishing sentences were 
 exchanged between them before they parted ; 
 but the business was already settled, and 
 nothing more added of importance, except 
 indeed a hint from the lady, that not all the 
 wisdom of the congregated bench could suffice
 
 50 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 finally to decide upon the choice of a person 
 competent to fill the place of Lord Stein- 
 fort's tutor, without the fiat of the earfs 
 personal judgment, which could only be 
 pronounced upon a personal introduction to, 
 and examination of, the individual to be so 
 honoured. 
 
 Upon mature deliberation. Lord Tremordyn 
 decided that it was not absolutely necessary to 
 inflict upon his right honourable quill the 
 labour of addressing the entire bench indi- 
 vidually, and not being able to hit upon any 
 satisfactory mode of doing it collectively, he 
 contented himself by applying for the recom- 
 mendations he desired, to three prelates, who 
 boasted the honour of being personally known 
 to him. His lordship's London mansion was 
 named as the place where he should wish to 
 meet the gentlemen thus distinguished, and the 
 family removed to town some weeks earlier 
 than usual, to receive them. 
 
 Though Lady Augusta was fully determined 
 not to permit any person to become the tutor of 
 her brother till she had herself seen and ap-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 57 
 
 proved him, she felt somewhat at a loss to find 
 any reason perfectly befitting her dignity, to 
 prove the necessity of her presence when the 
 earl should receive the different aspirants. 
 
 It is probable that some feeling of embarrass- 
 ment from the same cause had arisen in the 
 mind of Lord Tremordyn, by the eagerness 
 with which he adopted a suggestion which at 
 once removed it, without involving the necessity 
 of such an indecorum as permitting these un- 
 known young men to be obtruded on the morn- 
 ing retirement of his daughter. 
 
 " Theodore is singularly graceful in all he 
 does," observed her ladyship, directing Lord 
 Tremordyn's attention to the little boy's manner 
 of cutting up an orange with the golden knife 
 and fork, which were always placed for him be- 
 side his sister at the dessert. 
 
 " It is hereditary," replied the earl. 
 " I believe it is, my lord — but," she con- 
 tinued after a pause — " even though it be so, 
 this grace may be lost, should he be so unfortu- 
 nate as to have a tutor placed near him, afflicted 
 with any personal awkwardness. So beautiful 
 
 D 5
 
 58 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 
 
 do I think this dear child's manners, my lord, 
 that I should see with regret the most learned 
 or tlie most estimable man alive presiding over 
 him, if he could catch from him a single un- 
 graceful movement." 
 
 " Assuredly, my dear daughter," replied the 
 earl eagerly. *' This must, be looked to." 
 
 " Mio^ht not the dinner-table offer a safer and 
 surer criterion on this point, than any interview 
 m.erely conversational, my lord ? " 
 
 "' Admirably imagined ! " exclaimed Lord 
 Tremordyn, with unusual animation — " so shall 
 it be." 
 
 And so it was. Each of the three reverend 
 prelates recommended a gentleman as being wor- 
 thy to fulfil the important trust proposed, 
 and each introduction elicited an invitation to 
 dinner, for three successive days of the week 
 which followed the arrival of the Tremordyn 
 family in town. 
 
 The gentleman first destined to undergo this 
 ordeal, was Mr. Ashton, a young man of two 
 or three and twenty, who had just left college. 
 The Bishop of ^ * =^ * ^ ^ had known him well
 
 tre:mordyn cliff. 59 
 
 for many years, and spoke in the highest terms 
 of his character and acquirements; but Lord 
 Tremordyn's head was so full of the graces of 
 which Lady Augusta had spoken, that he paid 
 not the slightest attention to his language or 
 opinions, the whole power of his intellect being 
 bent upon observing how he sat in his chair, 
 handled his fork, and poured out his wine. 
 
 Not so the quiet, but observant Lady Au- 
 gusta ; no phrase, no glance escaped her. On 
 leaving the table she expressed, with the most 
 gracious condescension, her hope that he had no 
 early evening engagement, but w^ould take his 
 coffee in her drawing-room. 
 
 Lord Tremordyn had a habit which, as he 
 believed, he indidged unknown to all the world — 
 but in this he was mistaken. Lady Augusta 
 knew, as well as he did himself, that when, after 
 taking his chasse caft^ he rose from his chair 
 and walked majestically out of the room, say- 
 ing — " I have letters to write" — or, " There 
 are papers of consequence that require my at- 
 tention :" when this happened, which it did upon 
 an average six nights out of seven, Lady Au-
 
 60 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 gusta knew that in ten minutes afterwards his 
 lordship would be profoundly asleep in the soft 
 depth of his favourite heryere in the library. 
 
 It was her knowledge of this habit which led 
 her to propose the invitations to dinner, and 
 she was, as she anticipated, now left with her 
 little brother, and the young man who aspired 
 to the honour of being his preceptor. 
 
 A moment of silence followed the departure 
 of Lord Tremordyn, which was broken by the 
 boy who said, " Now papa is gone, sister Au- 
 gusta, shall we not have our game at domi- 
 
 nos 
 
 He opened the box as he spoke, and had 
 already begiui to place the ivory toys before 
 him, when Lady Augusta answered, " Not yet, 
 Theodore, I am not quite at leisure."" 
 
 " Then you, sir, ?'' said the boy, turning to 
 Mr. Ashton, '' will you play a game with me.''" 
 
 Lady Augusta listened attentively for his 
 answer. 
 
 " No thank you, my lord — I never play at 
 dominos." 
 
 Mr. Ashton's fate was sealed.
 
 TREilOKDYN CLIFF. 61 
 
 " Is your ladyship musical?" continued the 
 incautious young man, looking towards the 
 pianoforte, which stood open, with its read- 
 ing-desk and music, at the other end of the 
 room. 
 
 It has been already stated, that Lady Au- 
 gusta, far from being musical, had early shown 
 a marked distaste for the science ; but her bro- 
 ther, on the contrary, evinced a love for it 
 which amounted almost to a passion, and, 
 strange as it may appear, his sister fostered and 
 encouraged it by constant indulgence. She 
 had the last year accepted, for the first time, 
 her father's constantly repeated offer of a box 
 at the opera, and during the whole of that sea- 
 son this box exhibited the singular spectacle of 
 a boy seated alone in the front of it, his whole 
 soul beaming with delight through his large 
 blue eyes, while, enveloped in a dark mantle, 
 and coifed like his grandmother, his sister sat 
 shrouded in a back seat, generally intent upon 
 some volume she was reading, though some- 
 times occupied in studying the character of her 
 young companion, already so legibly stamped
 
 62 TREMOllDYN CLIFF. 
 
 upon his beautiful countenance. It was for his 
 use that the instrument was now open, as he 
 played both on the flute and pianoforte, with a 
 degree of taste and skill very uncommon at his 
 age. 
 
 But was all this to be inquired into, and ex- 
 plained to a tutor ? 
 
 '' Sir!" — was the only reply of Lady Au- 
 gusta, pronounced in a tone that implied doubt 
 that she could have heard him aright. 
 
 Mr. Ashton, though wholly uninitiated in all 
 the minor etiquettes, and zig-zag conventional 
 punctilios, which render what is civility from 
 one man, impertinence from another, was never- 
 theless full of spirit, intelligence,' and good 
 sense. He perceived, rather by intuitive quick- 
 ness, than from any acquired skill in such mat- 
 ters, that he had given offence to the haughty 
 damsel of the mansion. There had been some- 
 thing, moreover, in the awfully ceremonious 
 tone of the whole visit, which made him con- 
 ceive a distate for the proposed engagement, as 
 strong, and as sudden, as that he had inspir- 
 ed ; so making a slight, but by no means un-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 63 
 
 graceful bow to the lad/, and a smiling " good 
 night, my lord," to the little boy, Mr. Ashton 
 took his leave. 
 
 As he intimated no wish or intention of in- 
 quiring the decision of Lord Tremordyn re- 
 specting his offered services, Lady Augusta 
 rightly conjectured that there would be no oc- 
 casion, on his account, to set in motion any 
 part of the complicated machinery with which 
 she had surrounded her father, and by which 
 she exercised her secret power over him. 
 
 The following day introduced Mr. William 
 Knighton, a young clergyman well born and 
 well connected, but finding himself, as the ju- 
 nior of six brothers, under the necessity of in- 
 creasing as much as possible the family interest. 
 
 Though he had taken high honours at the 
 university, his manners were in no way tinc- 
 tured with academic gaiicherie. Nothing in 
 fact could be in better style and keeping, or 
 more perfectly correct in all respects, than every 
 word and movement of this really distinguished 
 young man — so much so, indeed, that though 
 his manners had all the ease of one who could
 
 64 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 not feel out of his place in the highest society, 
 Lady Augusta felt persuaded that whatever his 
 position might be, his conduct and deportment 
 would be adapted to it, with the nicest propriety, 
 and that, whenever he felt it necessary to bend, 
 then he would bend, and gracefully. 
 
 All this had been seen, understood, and appre- 
 ciated, long before her ladyship left the dinner 
 table, and had Lord Tremordyn, on that day, 
 felt no inclination for his evening nap, Mr. 
 Knighton would probably have been installed as 
 tutor to Lord Steinfort on the following one. 
 
 His lordship, however, rose as usual from his 
 chair at the wonted hour, and muttering some 
 words of which ^' papers of importance" were 
 alone intelligible, left the drawing-room, and 
 again Lady Augusta, the pupil, and the aspi- 
 rant tutor, were left together. 
 
 On this occasion it was not to his dominos 
 that Lord Steinfort had recourse for the amuse- 
 ment of the hour permitted him between coffee 
 and the time of retiring to rest, for seeing his 
 sister engaged in conversation with the stranger, 
 he stepped lightly, but with the fearless licence
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 65 
 
 of a petted child, to his favourite place at the in- 
 strument, and began playing an air he had re- 
 cently caught — piano, piano, indeed, but loud 
 enough, and correctly enough to attract the at- 
 tention, and excite the surprise of Mr. Knigh- 
 ton. 
 
 " That is extraordinary playing for such a 
 child," he exclaimed, turning round to look at 
 and listen to him. ''May I ask your ladyship 
 if music has been made a study with him ? or, 
 is this performance the outpouring of a spon- 
 taneous talent that shows itself without cul- 
 ture.^'' 
 
 " Certainly not without culture, Mr. Knigh- 
 ton," replied Lady Augusta ; " his talent, as 
 well as his love for the art, is too decided to 
 permit such neglect."" 
 
 " Is much time devoted to the study .^" per- 
 sisted the inquirer. 
 
 *' Certainly more than has yet been given to 
 any other," was the reply. 
 
 Mr. Knighton again listened to the boy 
 for a few moments in silence, and then said, 
 " I fear I may be so unfortunate as to differ in
 
 66 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 opinion from your ladyship on this subject, but 
 it is because the musical talent Lord Steinfort 
 displays is so decided, that in his station I 
 think it should not be fostered by any early or 
 constant study.*" 
 
 Lady Augusta neither replied to this by a 
 repetition of the expressive "Sir!" nor by 
 any other chilling monosyllable, but courteously 
 appeared to agree with the speaker, and con- 
 cluded by saying, " I am no musician myself, 
 Mr. Knighton, and have therefore been almost 
 afraid to trust my judgment on the subject, lest 
 my own insensibility to the importance of the 
 accomplishment might render me unjust to the 
 value of it in him."" 
 
 Thus encouraged, Mr. Knighton continued 
 the conversation, by making many judicious re- 
 marks on the necessity of strengthening the in- 
 tellectual faculties, and rather checking than 
 encouraging the* susceptibilities of a boy in the 
 exalted station of Lord Steinfort, both as a 
 means of guarding him from the too great faci- 
 lities and incitements to pleasure, which his po- 
 sition necessarily offered, and as being also the
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 67 
 
 surest way of making the power it vested in 
 him a blessing to others. 
 
 To all this her ladyship listened with ap- 
 proving smiles, and perfect acquiescence, and 
 the young man took his leave, edified by her 
 wisdom, gratified by her condescension, and 
 with little doubt of obtaining the situation he 
 now more than ever desired, in her father's 
 family. 
 
 But herein he very literally, if so lowly a 
 phrase may be permitted, reckoned without his 
 host ; or more literally still, without his hostess, 
 for the balance of the day's account, when cor- 
 rected by her, stood very differently. 
 
 This cannot be more fully shown than by 
 another short extract from her ladyship's pri- 
 vate journal, which she failed not to continue 
 with unvarying punctuality, though, during her 
 residence in London, it could no longer be 
 guarded or inspired either by the remote pri- 
 vacy or romantic beauty of the chamber in 
 which it was composed. But the ingenuity of 
 Bramah supplied indifferently well the massive
 
 68 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 fastenings of the baronial turret, and if the 
 pages now written, showed less of passion and 
 speculation, they had more of business and ac- 
 tivity. 
 
 St. James's Squai-e, midnight. 
 
 "Feb. 2, 1823.— Mr. William Knighton 
 
 a graceful, learned, and accomplished 
 
 gentleman. His eye speaks sense, his smile 
 benignity, and every word he utters betokens 
 goodness of heart, and soundness of head. I 
 do him justice. But it is not such as he 
 must watch the windings of the soft and silken 
 folds in which my little Alcibiades must be 
 entangled. His life whatever its dura- 
 tion 
 
 '' 1, A. M.— My time-piece tells me that for a 
 long hour I have sat, idly lost in rumination. 
 This must not be. In the deep solitude of my 
 Cornish turret, indeed, with the wild wind whis- 
 pering strange thoughts to me through the lone 
 hours of night, such absence of all things present 
 was almost inevitable. But here, the rolling equi-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 69 
 
 page, the frequent step through every watch of 
 the short night, leaves no excuse for such for- 
 getfulness 
 
 "Ay — the life of Theodore must be a web wo- 
 ven with flowers — his hours shall dance alono- to 
 strains of melting music — rich perfumes shall 
 entrance his spirit, and beauty lap him to soft 
 dreamy sleep. Is he not made for this ? He 
 cannot reason — I have tried him at it. He has 
 no strengtli, no firmness. A spider crushed 
 will draw a tear from those blue heavenly eyes. 
 Is he not made to smile, and sigh, and smile 
 again, till life is hushed, and heaven takes back 
 her own ? — Had he been more like me — had he 
 been formed to soar, and struggle as he soared, 
 my plan had then been other than it is— his 
 day of life less happy and perhaps shorter. 
 
 " For you, young man, accomplished as you 
 are, you must not form the boy. All good be 
 with you. Yours be the tranquil, sage, and 
 unambitious path of middle life. Mine leads 
 me to the heights. We cannot walk toire- 
 ther."
 
 70 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 
 
 It is not needful to trace Lady Augusta 
 through the windings by which she reached the 
 head and the heart of her fatlier, upon this oc- 
 casion ; it is sufficient to state that the affair 
 was concluded by the earl's becoming perfectly 
 convinced that " Mr. William Knighton would 
 not do." 
 
 The third gentleman who came to try the ad- 
 venture, differed in many essential points from 
 both his predecessors. Mr. Hall was by seve- 
 ral years their superior in age, and still more 
 so in a ripened knowledge of what is called the 
 world. Having no particular reason to boast of 
 his descent, he rarely alluded to it, and indeed 
 one of the secrets by which he had learned to 
 please in society, beyond what his natural 
 agremens gave him any claim to expect, was 
 the oiever talking of himself. It is astonishing 
 how far this will go towards acquiring the repu- 
 tation of being an agreeable companion ; for 
 not only does it withdraw at once, and for ever, 
 the greatest source of boreism extant, but it 
 leaves the field open for others to indulge, at 
 will, in that most beguiling, fascinating, and
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 71 
 
 soul-soothing exercise of the spirit, which, mak- 
 ing self its theme, renders weariness, disgust, or 
 unpleasantness of any kind impossible, even in 
 the longest and most frequently recurring in- 
 tercourse. What, therefore, can be the result of 
 such intercourse, but the conviction that the party 
 whose egotism thus gives way, and leaves full 
 scope to that of his companion, is, and must be, 
 the most agreeable person in the world ? 
 
 But Mr. HalPs egotism, though kept with 
 wonderful skill out of sight, was not therefore 
 extinct. Like the valour that discreetly 
 
 runs away 
 
 And lives to figbt another day, 
 
 if little seen, or cared for in public, it was fos- 
 tered only the more tenderly in private — and 
 tenderly indeed did he foster it, when no eye 
 saw, and no ear heard him. Other people may 
 think they know what intense affection is — they 
 may think tlie ceaseless petitssoins of a devoted 
 lover, denote it for his mistress — or the ever 
 watchful tenderness of a fond mother for her 
 child — but in contemplating all this, Mr. Hall
 
 72 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 might say like Fanny Kemble's Julia in the 
 Hunchback — 
 
 " TLey know not what love is." 
 
 For what in truth is all that lover or mother 
 ever dreamed of affection y- compared to what 
 ]\Ir. Hall felt for himself .f' Could a sylph, invi- 
 sible to all other eyes, while nothing was hid 
 from his own — could such a one have spun his 
 noiseless flight around Mr. Hall, through the 
 four-and-twenty hours of one single day, he 
 might record more tender sympathy, more 
 watchful care, a more thoughtful preventing of 
 the slightest want, and a more unbounded indul- 
 gence of every wish, than any lover ever dis- 
 played since Adam, or any mother felt, since 
 Eve. 
 
 If, therefore, Mr. Hall bent before those above 
 him in any way, it was not only that he might 
 escape the evil of jostling or struggling, but 
 also that he might be snugly sheltered under 
 their overshadowing greatness, and if some- 
 times his pampered self-love seemed to give way 
 before his love for them — it was only reculer
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 73 
 
 pour mieuw santer. Some might think him 
 wavering and unsteady of character, but if 
 unity of purpose, unchangeably pursued through 
 life, can entitle a man to the praise of consis- 
 tency, he deserved it ; for whatever might be 
 his words or his actions, however they might 
 vary according to time, place, or circumstance, 
 the object was ever, ever, ever, the same : — 
 namely, to benefit, comfort, solace, and indulge 
 
 HIMSELF. 
 
 Such was Mr. Hall in spirit and in truth, but 
 by all outward seeming he was the gentlest, 
 meekest, most yielding, and most self-forgetting 
 of human beings, to all — except to such as by 
 no chance could be expected to aid him in the 
 one only object of his existence ; and when he 
 encountered any of these unhappy ones, his 
 spirit quaffed deeply of the intoxicating draught 
 that tyranny receives from ^helplessness, in re- 
 venge for the long abstinence from power which 
 his own dependent circumstances generally en- 
 forced. 
 
 The adventures of the three Calenders ter- 
 minated not more uniformly in the loss of an 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 TREMOilDYN CLIFF. 
 
 eye, than those of the three tutors on their day 
 of trial at Lord Tremordyn's, in their being 
 left after coffee with Lady Augusta and her 
 little brother. 
 
 Mr. Hall had shown himself, during the 
 formal dinner, well versed in all the trifling but 
 indispensable minutia of gentlemanly demea- 
 nour, to which the earl's attention was particu- 
 larly directed ; and his lordship was again fully 
 satisfied, reserving, however, almost unknown 
 to himself, the final decision of his judgment 
 till he should learn the opinion of his daugh- 
 ter. 
 
 Meanwhile, her ladyship was carrying on 
 her own system of investigation with an 
 equally favourable result. Though it is cer- 
 tain that any very conspicuous violation of the 
 conventional laws of good breeding would have 
 been so distasteful to Lady Augusta as to ren- 
 der their endurance difficult, yet it was by no 
 means to the mere ceremonial of Mr. HalFs 
 manner that her attention was chiefly directed. 
 On the few and rather meagre subjects of 
 conversation touched upon at table, she re-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 75 
 
 marked that all he said was equivocal, till her- 
 self or her father had pronounced an opinion— 
 and then, the doubtful expression of the eye 
 cleared into decided meaning — words softly, but 
 firmly enunciated, took place of the murmured 
 and unintelligible monosyllables which preceded 
 them. As the earl thought, so thought Mr. 
 Hall; as her ladyship felt, so felt Mr. Hall; 
 and that with no pitiful echoing of yea or nay, 
 but with reasonings and eloquence ever ready 
 for the nonce, and like faithful servants pre- 
 pared to take the field for their master's service, 
 let him choose what party he would. 
 
 '' Of such materials must my tools be made," 
 inwardly ejaculated Lady Augusta, as she lis- 
 tened to the clever arguments with which this 
 gentleman spoke in favour of a blundering 
 opinion pronounced by her father on a subject 
 of which he was profoundly ignorant. 
 
 "Whether his lordship sleep or wake this 
 evening,"" she mentally continued, '-it matters 
 not, I can so easily make this man live, move, 
 and have his being, in conformity as perfect 
 
 E 2
 
 76 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 to my will, as that demanded by the mighty 
 Frederic of Prussia from the limbs of his sol- 
 diery, that .... Mr. Hall is Lord Stein- 
 fort's tutor.'' 
 
 This being decided, her ladyship wasted no 
 farther time or trouble on the subject, but im- 
 mediately on her father's leaving the drawing- 
 room, dismissed the reverend gentleman by say- 
 ing, " Lord Tremordyn is much engaged to- 
 night, Mr. Hall, but will be glad to have the 
 pleasure of seeing you to-morrow morning, at 
 twelve o'clock precisely, when I doubt not that 
 all preliminaries to your entering the family, 
 will be settled to your satisfaction." 
 
 The next hour was passed by her in adding 
 another link to the chain of devoted gratitude 
 and fondness which day by day she wound round 
 the heart of the lovely boy, whose very existence 
 seemed to hang upon her smiles. He loved 
 her with all the clinging affection of a most 
 loving nature, and bent to her will, not only 
 with the obedience of a willing slave, but with 
 the passionate devotion of a fanatic.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 77 
 
 Had it been otherwise — had she failed in ob 
 taining this (as she believed) all-powerful in- 
 fluence over him, I might have had a different, 
 and a shorter tale to tell.
 
 7S TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Death, a necessary end, 
 
 Will come when it will come.'' 
 
 Shakspearf. 
 
 Despite all the care and caution used by Lady 
 Augusta, and in which Mr. Hall carefully fol- 
 lowed her, Lord Steinfort manifested very con- 
 siderable dislike to the idea of having any other 
 instructor than " sister Augusta," and his fa- 
 vourite music-master. As to any advantage to 
 be derived by him from all and every thing 
 which Mr. Hall could teach, her ladyship at- 
 tached quite as little value to it as the young 
 nobleman himself; but she foresaw that if he 
 could not be brought to submit to this, some 
 other scheme of education, infinitely more at 
 variance with her own objects, must necessarily 
 be adopted.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 79 
 
 To prevent this, she so far deviated from her 
 system of indulgence as to persevere in obliging 
 Theodore to endure a daily lesson from his 
 tutor, though for many days the penance was 
 accompanied by tears, which flowed nearly the 
 whole time it lasted. Having, however, at 
 length convinced the astonished child that, not- 
 withstanding his dislike to the arrangement, it 
 must continue, she set herself to mitigate by 
 every possible means the mortification it occa- 
 sioned him. She consented to be daily present 
 at the short lesson, and permitted him, when it 
 was over, to remain in his own apartments with 
 his tutor, or to establish himself in hers, at his 
 pleasure. This immediately converted the 
 highly-paid office of Mr. Hall into very nearly 
 a sinecure, and never did mortal man huir 
 himself with more kindly feelings of affec- 
 tionate congratulation than did this gentleman, 
 as day by day he more fully discovered the 
 downy easiness of his position. 
 
 What mattered it to him, if, while sharing 
 the luxurious delicacy of the earFs table, it was 
 made manifest to his comprehension that the
 
 80 TKEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 air he breathed was to be considered as a boon 
 from his imperious patron ? Did the rich wines, 
 that with lingering luxury he suffered to flow 
 gently over his sensitive palate, did they lose 
 their flavour thereby ? What, though his soul 
 was expected to forget its identity, and act the 
 part of shadow to that of the stupid earl who 
 paid him five hundred a year for consenting to 
 be lapped in luxury ? Was the soft chair that 
 cushioned his dreaming idleness, or the sleek 
 nag that ambled under him, when he sought 
 exercise to give zest to appetite, was either of 
 them the less easy for it ? Assuredly not — 
 to the feelings of Mr. Hall. And never did 
 two beings, whose characters and purposes were 
 so dissimilar, contrive to live in the same house, 
 each uniformly pursuing their own separate ob- 
 ject, and contrive to exhibit such perfect har- 
 mony and satisfaction, as Lady Augusta and the 
 tutor she had so ably chosen. 
 
 The London season passed, and the family 
 returned to Tremordyn. This removal never 
 failed to be a source of pleasure to them all. 
 It was peculiarly agreeable to Lady Augusta,
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 81 
 
 whose niind, perpetually occupied upon the 
 future, felt little pleasure in being surrounded 
 by a gay crowd, who lived but in the enjoy- 
 ment of the present. There was something 
 too, in the equality of condition, which she 
 could not deny, between herself and many of 
 those with whom she mixed in London, that 
 was oppressive to a spirit which seemed only to 
 breathe with ease, M'hen elevated above all 
 around. 
 
 At Tremordyn she could hold herself apart 
 in lonely grandeur, without fearing lest her dig- 
 nity should be mistaken for sullenness, or her 
 averseness to society be construed rather into a 
 consciousness that she was not fit for it, than 
 that she considered it to be unfit for her. 
 
 Lord Tremordyn in a considerable degree 
 shared the same feeling. In London he was 
 one among many, at his castle he was one alone. 
 
 Lord Steinfort loved the sea, and the rocks, 
 and the cliff's, and the flowers of his garden, 
 and tlie fresh breeze of morning, so well, that 
 his delicate cheek showed a tint that deepened 
 almost to the hue of health while in Cornwall. 
 
 E 5
 
 82 TilEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 Mr. Hall too, in the increased accommodation 
 of the rooms appointed for his use, the humble 
 bows of every tenant he encountered in his 
 walks and rides, the blushing courtesy of their 
 pretty daughters, the shillings nightly won 
 from the earl at backgammon, and the unlimited 
 use of cream with his coiFee and tea, at his late, 
 snug, lazy, solitary breakfast in his own sitting- 
 room, during which he was permitted to air the 
 earl's newspapers — all these blessings together 
 made him also think that Tremordyn was the 
 proper sphere of Tremordyn, and all that be- 
 longed to him. This sentiment he expressed so 
 neatly to his patron, who condescended to ask 
 his opinion of the place about a week after he 
 reached it, that the words sunk into his lordship's 
 soul, and became so entirely his own, that he 
 not only pronounced it the following spring as 
 a reason why the family should not remove to 
 town, but continued to make use of it as an 
 unanswerable argument on the same occasion 
 during every succeeding period of his life. 
 That it might not have proved equally satis- 
 fcictory had Lady Augusta wished to oppose it.
 
 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 
 
 83 
 
 is highly probable; but as, in fact, the ar- 
 rangement coincided entirely with her own wish, 
 it remained for seven years unchanged, to the 
 great contentment of all the parties concerned. 
 
 During this interval as little change of any 
 kind occurred in the family of Tremordyn as 
 it is well possible to imagine, and its chronicler 
 must therefore in prudence pass it over briefly. 
 Could the history of this period, indeed, be 
 given by a pen skilled in bestowing interest on 
 a mere record of feelings, without requiring aid 
 from stirring events, it might be greatly length- 
 ened. The workings of such a mind as Lady 
 Augusta's, ever bent upon one object, and sted- 
 fastly determined by some means to reach it at 
 last, might, if ably traced, furnish matter for 
 many a moving page. 
 
 The gradual developement of the sweet boy's 
 character, too, might also in such hands tell 
 well — with its gentleness^ fostered by his wily 
 sister into weakness — its warm sensibility into 
 morbid softness — and even the purity and de- 
 licacy of his taste, fribbled into folly and 
 inanity.
 
 84 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 
 
 A few touches from the same master might 
 make a picture worth looking at, even of the 
 small cosy spirit of Mr. Hall, and might show 
 with humour that should redeem tediousness, 
 all the little plots and plannings for himself 
 that made up the history of his life — how hun- 
 dred added to hundred had afforded a quarterly 
 jubilee as he watched his increasing store — how 
 pleasantly he studied such ecclesiastical records 
 as proved that Lord Tremordyn had three 
 pretty livings in his gift, and that all the in- 
 cumbents were his seniors — how discreetly he 
 formed some rural intimacies at a distance, and 
 some creditable acquaintances near the castle — 
 and, in a word, how pleasantly he steered his 
 easy bark down the smooth course of those 
 seven years, till, as he looked back upon them, 
 it seemed as if he had lived but one long sunny 
 day. 
 
 But, perhaps, not even such a pen could 
 bestow much interest on any lengthened record 
 of the heavy earl. Nothing that he thought, 
 felt, said, or did, could be well twisted out of 
 the stub])orn dullness that belono-ed to him. A
 
 TREMOllDYN CLIFF. 85 
 
 little variety occurred now and then by visita- 
 tions of the gout to his lower extremities, but 
 physic and flannel help on a narrative but 
 lamely. When these seven years were gone 
 and over, however, a considerable move^ient 
 took place. The earl's gentleman one rainy- 
 morning desired Lady Augusta's gentlewoman 
 to inform her mistress that his lordship felt 
 greatly indisposed, that he did not feel able to 
 leave his bed, that he desired the family apo- 
 thecary might be summoned immediately, and 
 that an express should be dispatched, with as 
 little delay as possible, for a physician of emi- 
 nence who resided at Exeter. 
 
 Lady Augusta dispatched trusty messengers 
 accordingly, and then hastened to Lord Tre- 
 mordyn's apartment. He looked feverish, 
 querulous, and frightened, though the last 
 symptom was chiefly made apparent by his 
 earnest denial of its existence. 
 
 '■' Your ladyship must not imagine .... 
 Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! . . . . it's the stomach. Lady Au- 
 gusta .... great pain, great pain .... but 
 do not alarm vourself .... no occasion what-
 
 86 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 ever for alarm .... Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! .... I 
 am quite sure that I am in no danger . . . . 
 and pain, you know, must be felt sometimes, 
 even by .... Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! .... " 
 
 Lady Augusta summoned the housekeeper, 
 and even before the prompt arrival of the apo- 
 thecary, hot bran, sprinkled with laudanum, et 
 cetera, et cetera, et cetera, were all in active 
 service, without however much mitigating the 
 sufferings of the invalid, who continued to al- 
 ternate his painful " Oh ! Oh ! Oh !" and his as- 
 surances that he was in no danger, as v^ehe- 
 mently as his failing strength would permit. 
 
 In little more than an hour Mr. Jones, the 
 neighbouring apothecary was in the room, and 
 the patient proceeded to describe his sufferings, 
 which were every moment becoming more se- 
 vere, but still concluding every panting sentence 
 with — " I know there is no danger, sir. I am 
 quite sure of that." 
 
 " No, my lord — none at all — certainly none 
 at all,"' replied the complaisant apothecary ; 
 but we must quiet this pain, and then all will 
 be right again.''
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 87 
 
 " Yes, yes !— Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! . . . that is all I 
 want ; but be quick, pray be quick, sir." 
 
 " Not a moment shall be lost, my lord." 
 
 " Good — good. I knew there was no danger. 
 Oh ! Oh ! Oh !" 
 
 Mr. Jones gave Lady Augusta an expres- 
 sive look, and she followed him out of the room. 
 Having reached the anti-room, and closed the 
 door, Mr. Jones, in a tone of much solemnity, 
 said — " I am sorry to say, my lady ..." 
 
 " You think my father in danger, sir .?" she 
 exclaimed, hastily interrupting him. 
 
 " The greatest," was the emphatic reply. 
 
 " What do you suppose to be his complaint, 
 sir .?" said Lady Augusta, colouring violently. 
 
 " Gout, my lady — gout in the stomach, and 
 with a very alarming pulse. Your ladyship 
 has sent an express to Exeter for Dr. .?" 
 
 " I have, sir ; but he can hardly be here 
 before to-morrow. Is the danger immediate .'^" 
 
 " I would not willingly alarm you, my lady, 
 but I fear so." 
 
 At this moment, one of the servants, who 
 had been in attendance in Lord Tremordyn's
 
 88 TRKMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 chamber, entered the anti-room, and with less 
 than usual ceremony, stated that he was sent 
 to desire her ladyship would dispatch another 
 messenger to London for the family physician. 
 
 Lady Augusta turned to Mr. Jones with a 
 look that seemed to ask if it were too late to do 
 so. He understood the silent inquiry and re- 
 plied to it, 
 
 " T would by all means recommend your 
 ladyship to send the express according to my 
 lord's wish ; but if I am not greatly mistaken, 
 all will be over before your messenger can reach 
 London." 
 
 Without uttering a word in reply, Lady 
 Augusta walked down stairs to the library, 
 followed by Mr. Jones, and seating herself at a 
 table on which stood materials for writing, 
 hastily prepared to use them. There was hurry 
 and agitation in her manner; her cheeks glowed, 
 her eyes shone with unusual brightness, and 
 had the practitioner who stood before her felt 
 her pulse, it is probable he would have thought 
 it necessary to bleed her. She stopped sliort 
 before she had written many words, and ad-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 89 
 
 dressing the servant who still waited in the 
 room, said, " Order the fleetest horse in the 
 stables to be made ready instantly, and let my 
 postilion ride him." 
 
 " To London, my lady ?" said the scared 
 footman. 
 
 " On the way to London, till the horse's 
 speed fail, and then let him go on post. Be 
 quick — my letter will be ready before him ;"' 
 and again she began to write, but once more 
 checking her pen, she addressed Mr. Jones. 
 
 " If, sir, there be any thing that can ease 
 the pain, should it not be prepared ?''^ 
 
 *' Your housekeeper has drugs, my lady — 
 may I see her .?'" 
 
 " Yes, sir, that will save time ; for God's 
 sake seek her, and let me write." 
 
 The apothecary followed the servant out 
 of the room, and Lady Augusta was left 
 alone. 
 
 She fixed her eyes on the door for a mo- 
 ment after it closed, as if to be certain that 
 she was indeed unseen; and then throwing the 
 pen from her, she rose from her seat, and
 
 90 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 paced the room in strong emotion, muttering 
 to herself in broken sentences. 
 
 " So strong, so hale ! . . . . That he should 
 fail before the hectic stripling ! Fool that I 
 have been ! — fool ! fool ! — So many years, 
 so many times in every year, it might have 
 been safely, surely done — long, long ago — the 
 deed forgotten, and I should now have been ! 
 
 O fool! fool! fool!" 
 
 She clenched her hands together, and pressed 
 her burning forehead. In a few minutes a 
 servant entered for her dispatch ; the demand 
 restored her outward composure : the letter was 
 written, sealed, and sent, and she was about to 
 return to the apartment of her father, when 
 Lord Steinfort entered the room. 
 
 He was now past seventeen, tall, and very 
 graceful in his movements, though too slightly 
 built for the perfection of manly beauty ; but 
 his face might have served as a model to Ra- 
 phael, for one of those heavenly messengers of 
 whom poets have dreamed. 
 
 Umane membra, aspetto uman si fiuse, 
 Ma di celeste maesta il compose, 
 Tra giovane, e fanciullo eta confine 
 Prese.
 
 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 91 
 
 He entered with an air of sober sadness, 
 such as it befits all members of a family to 
 wear, when its chief lies on a bed of sickness. 
 
 *' Papa is ill, sister Augusta? Is he very 
 ill ?" 
 
 For the first time since his birth, the eye 
 of his sister fell upon him with an expression 
 that came direct from her heart, unsoftened 
 by any of the borrowed drapery with which 
 for years she had veiled every feeling he in- 
 spired. 
 
 " Good heaven, sister ! dearest sister !" he 
 exclaimed, " what makes you look so wildly ? 
 Dearest, dearest sister Augusta ! . . . . you are 
 ill too — I know you are !" And kneeling down 
 before her, (an attitude which from his earliest 
 childhood he had loved to use,) he took her 
 hands in his, and raising his soft eyes to the 
 dark and inflamed ones that were averted 
 from him, he uttered a thousand expressions 
 of passionate tenderness, imploring her not to 
 suffer their father's illness to affect her so 
 strongly. 
 
 Lady Augusta recovered herself, and re-
 
 92 TREMOllDYX CLIFF. 
 
 turning his caresses, intreated him to attend his 
 tutor without her, as she must be in waiting 
 on Lord Tremordyn — must see the apothecary. 
 In short, at this moment she had no time for him. 
 
 " I know it, I know it, dearest sister ; think 
 not of me. I will not ask to see you again, 
 till you shall send for me ; but for my sake, 
 sister Augusta, take care of your own dear 
 health. What is the health of the whole world 
 in value, compared to yours ?"' 
 
 Long use enables us to bear all things. 
 From the moment poor Theodore was old 
 enough to feel the first yearning touch of affec- 
 tion. Lady Augusta had been the sole object of 
 it, and she had learned to read in his eyes, and 
 hear from his lips, the sweetest, truest ex- 
 pression of it, without wincing ; though, with 
 unchanging hatred, her most ardent wish had 
 been through every hour of his innocent life, 
 that those beaming eyes might be quenched in 
 early death, and that touching voice hushed for 
 ever in the silence of the grave. This she had 
 borne for years ; but at this fresh burst of 
 blind and doating love, something rose in her
 
 IREMORDYX CLIFF. 93 
 
 throat that seemed threatening to choak her, 
 and wavinor her hand for him to cro she rushed 
 past him "without speaking. 
 
 Had the whole college set in judgment 
 on the case of the earl, they could not have 
 pronounced sentence more correctly than did 
 tlie rustic apothecary of Tremordyn. A few 
 minutes after the Exeter physician arrived he 
 expired, his last gasp of breath being expended 
 in repeating, " There can be no danger." 
 
 Lord Tremordyn breathed his last about an 
 hour before midnight; the young heir had 
 already retired to rest, and slept soundly, un- 
 conscious of the titles and honours that would 
 salute his waking ; but his sister before she 
 retired to her anxious chamber, visited for one 
 solemn moment the bed of death : saw with 
 approving eyes that the steward of the house- 
 hold superintended the placing wax-tapers in 
 goodly array around it, and then, forbidding all 
 attendance, entered her solitary and remote 
 apartments, where, shutting herself in, she gave 
 way to such a tumult of jarring passions as 
 shook her whole frame.
 
 94 TRExMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 The last rough days of a stormy November 
 had left every bough and branch of the huge 
 oak trees beneath her turret windows, bare, and 
 the blast howled amongst them fearfully, 
 swinging their fantastic twistings to and fro, 
 till they creaked against each other, in tones 
 that seemed to mimic some -living sound of evil 
 omen. Lady Augusta sat beside her fire, 
 listening to the voice of the tempest without, 
 and to the beatings of her own heart within, 
 till she shuddered, with a strange mixture of 
 woman's weakness, at herself, and at her own 
 dark thoughts. All the sterner purposes, that 
 from time to time had mixed themselves in her 
 secret meditations, seemed now to crowd like 
 imps of darkness round her heart, and urge her, 
 by one desperate effort, to reach her goal at 
 once. She threw her arms on the table before 
 her, and resting her head upon them, shut out 
 the light, and every outward object, while 
 fixing all the powers of her mind upon her 
 present situation. 
 
 She meditated deeply upon what she was, 
 and what she might be.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 95 
 
 In this state she continued for ^bove an 
 hour, and then, raising her head, and shaking 
 back the dark locks that fell dishevelled over 
 her face and bosom, she took her journal from 
 its secret recess, and wrote. 
 
 " November 26th, 1828, two o'clock, a.m.— 
 My. history furnishes a severe lesson upon 
 human confidence in human strength. I have 
 decided upon a line of conduct, but have vacil- 
 lated, wavered, doubted, and failed. I, Au- 
 gusta Delaporte, whose religion is the worship 
 of power, and whose piety can only show itself 
 in fostering the faculties received from God, till 
 they enable me to emulate on earth his majesty 
 and dominion in heaven ! . . . . Yet I have 
 failed. I have bowed and bent my lofty head 
 before a phantom — which by men is called 
 mercy, but by angels weakness. How easily, 
 while he was yet in puling infancy, could I 
 have helped the feeble spirit to pass, and sink 
 away, into the rest it seemed to pine for ! . . . . 
 But, as if drivelling were infectious, I watched 
 them prop his weakness day by day, contented 
 to perceive that it was weakness still, and
 
 96 TllEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 fondly hoping nature would do my work. It 
 was my work— I was bound by a solemn pro- 
 mise to my own soul to recover what he had 
 snatched from me — or to perish. The deep 
 sea and the wide vault of heaven heard the vow ; 
 and had I not felt, or fancied within my young 
 bosom, the power to keep it, I would, at the 
 awful moment it was made, have sprung from 
 the friendly height, and sought eternal rest in 
 the white-crested wave that rose at its foot to 
 meet me. And I will keep it, though like 
 a shrinking coward I have turned from the 
 short, bold path that led direct to its accom- 
 plishment. But art and skill shall yet regain 
 what cowardice has lost. ... I cannot touch his 
 life ... at least not now — not here. 
 
 " He is, then. Earl of Tremordyn, and I am 
 still Augusta Delaporte ! . . . . The thought is 
 poison to the sweet blood of life, but not with- 
 out its antidote. He is too fragile to live long, 
 — and he loves so well to breathe away his soul 
 upon his flute (it is the only music that I ever 
 loved to hear !) that I have but to seek some 
 youthful shepherdess to doat upon its sound,
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 97 
 
 and like a swan, the boy will pipe himself to 
 death. But never shall another child snatch 
 the coronet from my brow — never, by heaven ! 
 Here I make the vow — the strange, wild blast 
 shall echo it — if neither ' time nor place"* shall 
 make themselves, I will make both .... I will 
 not vow to kill him — that is not now, I think, 
 within my power — but I do vow, and strictly 
 will I keep it, that never child of his shall wear 
 the honours that now hang loosely on him, like 
 a stolen garment ; and also will I vow, that I 
 will die Countess of Tremordyn, though I 
 should live such, but one poor hour. This page 
 is record of my oath, and if I keep it not, may 
 my bones lie unhonoured, far from my father's 
 tomb, and neither brass nor marble tell that I 
 have ever lived." 
 
 These lines were written with a feverish 
 rapidity which seemed to partake almost of de- 
 lirium, but when she had finished, she read 
 them over slowly, and closed the volume with 
 an air of calm and satisfied composure. 
 
 Her fire had died away, and a shivering 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 coldness succeeded to the glow that a few 
 minutes before pervaded every limb. A bottle 
 of laudanum always stood on her toilette; Lady 
 Augusta, however, was too careful of her health 
 to use it habitually : nevertheless, she now 
 swallowed sufficient to ensure sleep, after a day 
 of such violent and harassing emotions as made 
 tranquil repose highly necessary ; and, alas ! 
 she dared not rest her hopes of finding it, upon 
 that peace of heart " which goodness bosoms 
 ever."
 
 TREMORDYN CUFF. 99 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 And kiss the lips of unacquainted change." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The following day rose in calm but heavy 
 stillness. The stormy wind was hushed to rest. 
 Lady Augusta's troubled thoughts were sent 
 back to her heart, and the page which held the 
 only record of them, was shrouded as safely 
 from every eye as were the thoughts them- 
 selves. A dignified, solemn, stately gloom per- 
 vaded the mansion, and all who were within it. 
 The numerous serving men stepped too gently 
 for a shoe to creak beneath their tread, and the 
 maidens performed their allotted tasks like 
 voiceless ghosts. 
 
 The physician and apothecary, who had both 
 
 F 2
 
 100 TREMORDVN CLIFF. 
 
 passed the night in the castle, met at the break- 
 fast-table, and they only, when left ttte-a-tete 
 to their coffee and their eggs, ventured to speak 
 of the event which had occurred, as one which 
 had ever before been equalled in importance. 
 
 '' The young earl is quite a boy still,'' ob- 
 served the physician. *' A little more cream, 
 IMr. Jones, if you please. I wonder who the 
 old gentleman has left his guardian." 
 
 Mr. Jones, whose highest dignity arose from 
 the frequent peeps into the interior of the 
 Tremordyn family, which his profession per- 
 mitted, replied, with an air of intelligence, not 
 quite unmixed with mystery, " Do you mean 
 as guardian and manager of the estates, doctor, 
 or as personal guardian ?'"* 
 
 ^' Either, or both, Mr. Jones. There must 
 be three or four years of minority, I think.'* 
 
 " Three and a-half, doctor— four last June. 
 Lord Steinfort — I beg his pardon, Lord 
 Tremordyn was born on the 15th of June, 
 1811.'' 
 
 " Well, even that will give him a round 
 sum in ready money : I believe the estates are
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 101 
 
 enormous. Is he a boy likely to make a figure 
 in the county ?" 
 
 " That perhaps will not depend altogether 
 on himself, doctor," replied Mr. Jones, moving 
 his chin up and down very significantly as he 
 dived into the marrow and fatness of a large 
 ham. 
 
 " Upon whom will it depend, then ? . . . . 
 Mr. Jones, while your hand's in, sir, give me 
 a slice of that ham, will you ?" 
 
 " Capital hams we always get here . . . 
 Why those, doctor, who see as much of the 
 family as I do, know pretty well, that let who 
 will be lord of Tremordyn, it is Lady Augusta 
 who must reign there." 
 
 " Not when the boy 's grown to man's estate. 
 I presume ?" 
 
 " I beg your pardon, doctor .... Let me 
 recommend a bit of pheasant .... You may be 
 mistaken, sir, as to that. 'Tis but a delicate 
 slip of a youth. The countess, you know, lost 
 six children ; but if he live to be a hundred, 
 and his sister lives too, trust nie, he will do just 
 as she would have him, to the last."
 
 102 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 " You must know more about it than I can 
 
 do, certainly, Mr. Jones I'll trouble you 
 
 for the mustard, sir But if an independent 
 
 young earl, with thirty, forty, I know not how 
 many thousands a year, and a good round sum 
 in his pocket besides, does not find the way to 
 fling off an old maid of a sister, it will be some- 
 thing new." 
 
 *' So it will, doctor, quite new — no doubt of 
 it ; but Lady Augusta, for all you call her an 
 old maid, which can hardly be considered as a 
 novelty, is new too — at least, I never saw or 
 heard of her like." 
 
 " As how, sir ? Does she tyrannize over the 
 poor boy ? — Upon my word, it is astonishing 
 what an appetite the sea air gives, when one is 
 not used to it. I must have another slice of 
 that ham, Mr. Jones." 
 
 " It is a capital ham, doctor ; I always say 
 that the Tremordyn Castle hams beat West- 
 phalia hollow. . . . But, sir, you have no notion 
 what a woman Lady Augusta is. I have 
 known her almost since her birth, and my ad-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 103 
 
 miration of her extraordinary capacity as a 
 woman of business increases every year." 
 
 " But you don't suppose she'll have the ma- 
 nagement of the estates during the minority, do 
 you ?" 
 
 " Lord, sir, she might have the management 
 of any thing. Why, God bless you, we have 
 all known round about here, for years and 
 years back, that what she said was law, in the 
 castle and out of it too, for many a mile 
 round.'' 
 
 *' So, proud as he was, the old gentleman 
 lived under petticoat government, did he.'^" 
 
 " Under her government, at any rate. For 
 instance, this lawsuit that of course you have 
 heard of, about the great Gatcomb property in 
 Yorkshire, and the dormant title, — why, my lord 
 — the late lord, you know — never would have 
 stirred a peg in it, they say, but for her. It 
 was she that traced out the line in the pedigree, 
 and many people think now, that spite of all 
 the difficulties before her, she will carry it 
 through for him — that is, for her brother now, 
 of course — and, in short, to tell you the truth,
 
 104 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 I should not be at all surprised, when the will 
 is opened, if it should turn out that she was the 
 sole guardian herself." 
 
 While the breakfast parlour witnessed this 
 comfortable gossipping, and tlie very genial 
 meal by which it was accompanied, forming a 
 sort of bright and cheerful oasis in the house of 
 mourning, Mr. Hall's morning repast was as 
 usual eaten in solitude ; for though upon this 
 solemn occasion he might in some sort have 
 done the honours of the desolate mansion to the 
 physician and apothecary, he justly thought 
 that the glory of this could not atone for the 
 loss of that precious half-hour of doubting lazi- 
 ness which he enjoyed on his pillow, when no- 
 body's breakfast would be kept waiting but his 
 own, if he turned again to the swelling down, 
 and murmured in soft soliloquy — " Let me 
 slumber again." 
 
 The death of his patron would doubtless have 
 affected Mr. Hall in a more lively manner, had 
 he not reposed in undoubting security on the 
 often manifested partiality of the Lady Au- 
 •j-usta. This flattering remembrance, joined to
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 105 
 
 a conviction, at least as firm as that expressed 
 by Mr. Jones, that her will would still be law, 
 left him little to fear for the future. 
 
 There is, however, something in the near 
 neighbourhood of death, which, excepting to 
 the professional attendants on it, will affect the 
 spirits even of those the least interested ; and 
 thus, when the footman whose duty it was to 
 answer his bell, entered with the tea-urn, the 
 tutor naturally indulged in a little more gossip 
 than ordinary with him. 
 
 '' This is an awful event, John, indeed — so 
 sudden ! . . . God bless me ! none of us can feel 
 safe. To be sure, difference of age is every 
 thing. — Does the water quite boil, John .''" 
 
 " Galloping, sir.'" 
 
 " That's right. How does her ladyship hold 
 up, John ?"' 
 
 John had only heard that she had been writ- 
 ing letters since eight o'clock in the morning. 
 
 " To tradespeople at Exeter, I suppose, 
 John ? Or does she send for undertakers from 
 London .''" 
 
 John could not tell.
 
 106 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 "At any rate the family mourning will be 
 furnished at Exeter, I presume. I wonder how 
 the new earl finds himself. Is he with her 
 ladyship, John ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; they had their breakfast together 
 an hour ago," 
 
 " Just like her, John; so active — so clever. 
 She is fitter to manage the estate than ever her 
 brother will be." 
 
 " So most folks say, sir. And the old house- 
 keeper thinks he is not long for this world. 
 She says that he is both too good and too beau- 
 tiful for any place but heaven. And then, you 
 know, my lady will be countess after all, sir." 
 
 " That's very true, John. I have thought 
 of that more than once myself this morning, be- 
 tween sleeping and waking. 'Tis quite as likely 
 as not, to say the least of it." 
 
 The scene in Lady Augusta's dressing-room 
 was of a different kind. The young earl, 
 though neither feeling nor affecting any strong 
 affection for a father who had passed through 
 life without ever dreaming of loving, or being 
 loved, yet felt that sort of spasm at the heart
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 107 
 
 which the death of one so near in blood must 
 ever occasion. He fancied, too, from the 
 closer intercourse between them, that his death 
 must be more deeply felt by his sister than 
 by himself; and when he obeyed her summons 
 to attend her, he stepped hastily into the 
 room, threw his arms around her, and shed 
 tears of gentle sympathy on her bosom. Did 
 ever bosoms press each other, whose feelings 
 were in stronger contrast ? It is hardly pos- 
 sible. But the eye, the voice, the words of 
 Lady Augusta, were all just what they should 
 be, and the agitated young man sat down be- 
 side her, soothed, comforted, and blessing the 
 dear hand that was ever ready to support him. 
 
 Ten doleful days elapsed after the earl's 
 demise before the earth he had cumbered was 
 permitted to cumber him ; and then, gold 
 and silver, satin and velvet, broidery and bla- 
 zonry, did their best to make death to this 
 mighty man diifer a little from what the beggar 
 found it. But in one particular, at least, he 
 shared the fate of those who shared not his 
 greatness — he was buried, and speedily for- 
 gotten.
 
 108 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 The morning following the ceremony of in- 
 terment was fixed by Lady Augusta for open- 
 ing the will. The rector of the parish, the 
 London physician, who had arrived in the in- 
 terval, and as an old friend of the family been 
 prevailed upon to stay till after the funeral, 
 Mr. Hall, and the country attorney, who was 
 also the land steward of the Tremordyn pro- 
 perty, were the only persons present on the oc- 
 casion, besides the young earl and his sister. 
 
 As the instrument was drawn by one of the 
 most experienced and accomplished artists of 
 Lincoln's Inn, its formula was too correctly 
 what it should be, to afford any interest by its 
 repetition. All that it imports the reader to 
 know is, that Lady Augusta was splendidly 
 portioned, and, more important still, left sole 
 guardian to the youthful heir, till he should at- 
 tain the age of twenty-one years. Admiral Sir 
 Herbert Monson, a highly respectable cousin of 
 the late countess, being appointed joint-executor 
 with her. 
 
 Whether her ladyship had been previously 
 made acquainted with this arrangement, no one
 
 TIIEMOKDYX CLIFF. 109 
 
 could divine from her manner of hearing it 
 read. Her deep and matronly mourning shaded 
 her face, and increased the solemn expression of 
 her pale cheek, and heavy eye; nor did any 
 movement of limb or feature show token of 
 emotion of any kind. Her brother, on the con- 
 trary, gave unequivocal demonstration of plea- 
 sure on receiving this information. Not even 
 the grave array of the meeting, to which his 
 look and manner had been hitherto in perfect 
 accord, could restrain him, when this clause 
 was read, from catching the hand of Lady Au- 
 gusta, at whose side he was placed, and press- 
 ing it to his lips, while tears of tenderness and 
 pleasure filled his eyes. 
 
 This business over, and a dispatch forwarded, 
 announcing his nomination as executor, to Sir 
 Herbert Monson, whose presence at the funeral 
 was prevented by illness, the clergyman, the 
 physician, and the attorney, took their leave ; 
 Mr. Hall respectfully retired, and the brother 
 and sister were left alone in gloomy stateliness. 
 
 Where strong affection has been torn asunder 
 by the death of a parent, the sense of sorrow at
 
 110 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 first overpowers every other feeling, and when 
 the gentle hand of time has done its healing 
 work, and the bereaved family begin by de- 
 grees to look out of themselves at the altered 
 circumstances around them, every thing has 
 already fallen into its daily routine, and in such 
 a case, the mere outward ceremonies attached 
 to the appalling event make less impression 
 than when to them alone is left the business of 
 producing the deep and solemn emotion which 
 ought to be excited. 
 
 Neither the young Earl of Tremordyn nor 
 his sister felt any grief sufficiently absorbing to 
 make them unconscious of the tedious gloom 
 which now pressed upon their spirits. Lady 
 Augusta was in a frame of mind to render it 
 almost intolerable, and knowing that no relief 
 could be speedily expected at Tremordyn 
 castle, she immediately determined upon leav- 
 ing it. 
 
 Had she indeed been its countess, her feelings 
 would have been widely different. The broad 
 escutcheon that darkened the gothic window 
 over the entrance would then have pointed to
 
 TREMOilDYN CLIFF. Ill 
 
 her own coronet, and every sable attendant she 
 encountered had seemed but as a necessary 
 figure in the solemn pageant of her greatness — 
 now, they were memorials of all she had lost. 
 It was more than she could bear ; and but few 
 minutes had elapsed after Mr. Hall's retreat, 
 when she thus addressed her brother. 
 
 " Your position, my dear Theodore, is now 
 greatly changed, and many things must neces- 
 sarily change with it. Had our father lived, 
 the continued attendance of Mr. Hall might 
 have been desirable for a year or two, but now, 
 it seems to me superfluous. What think you, 
 Theodore .?" 
 
 Though no yoke could be lighter than that 
 which Mr. Hall's superintendence inflicted on 
 his noble pupil, the young man looked and felt 
 delighted in no common degree at the idea of 
 throwing it off" altogether. From the first hour 
 they met, there had been more of dislike on the 
 part of the boy than could be well justified or 
 accounted for. On expressing this, a year or 
 two before, to one of the very few companions 
 with whom he was permitted to associate, he
 
 112 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 was asked the cause of his dislike, and his an- 
 swer, more true than reasonable, may describe 
 his feelings. " Why do not I like Mr. Hall r 
 he repeated, musing ; " because he is ugl}-, I 
 believe." 
 
 "Oh, sister Augusta !" was his eager reply 
 to her question, " if you will do this, I will 
 study just as many hours a day as you please, 
 and I shall never weary of it then." 
 
 " Well, Theodore, it shall be as you wish ; 
 but !Mr. Hall has lived amongst us too long to 
 be dismissed lightly. Some token of esteem 
 should, I think, accompany his departure." 
 
 " Some token of good will, sister Augusta, 
 should certainly accompany his dismissal." 
 
 There was a nicety in the distinction Avhich 
 grated against some feeling of Lady Augusta, 
 and a little indication of judgment and of cha- 
 racter in the phrase, as well as in the accent, 
 that rather disconcerted her. It was some- 
 thing new too, and the moment at which it ap- 
 peared struck her as ominous of future incon- 
 venience. The young earl's eye was cast down 
 with diffidence as he spoke, and tlie glance she
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 113 
 
 threw upon him might have been fairly enougli 
 construed into the words of Richard — 
 
 " So wise so youn^, tbey say, do ne'er live long." 
 
 Without cavilling at, or indeed noticing his 
 amendment, her ladyship proceeded — " The 
 best living in your gift, Theodore, is Pen- 
 more, at least at present. If you gain the 
 Gatcomb cause, you get Ashby with it, worth 
 three times as much ; but this is not yours yet. 
 Penmore is worth four hundred a year, besides 
 the house and glebe ; the incumbent has lately 
 had a second paralytic stroke, and the promise 
 of the living under these circumstances is very 
 nearly the same as the presentation. Mr Hall, 
 I think, will be quite satisfied with this ; but 
 in consideration of a short notice to leave you, 
 as well as of the interval before he can take 
 possession, I think he should receive the com- 
 pliment of a year's salary when he goes." 
 
 " I thank heaven, my dear sister,'" replied 
 Lord Tremordyn gaily, "that I am placed in 
 such hands as yours ! It is so delightful to 
 know that every thing will be well and nobly 
 done, without the burden of either doubt or
 
 114 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 difficulty on my part. When will you an- 
 nounce this to him, sister Augusta ?" 
 
 There was a boyish eagerness and vivacity 
 in this question that again looked like the action 
 of a spring, from which a heavy weight has 
 been removed. 
 
 " He feels the change,'** thought she, *' with 
 all his meekness, and already dreams of free- 
 dom and of power well we 
 
 shall see." 
 
 In compliance with his lordship's wishes, and 
 perhaps not less with her own, the intended 
 change was announced to Mr. Hall by Lady 
 Augusta, a few hours onl}- after it was decided 
 upon, and in such a manner as not only to 
 leave him impressed with a sense of devoted 
 gratitude to her, but with his self-love so tickled 
 as to make the very act of dismission dear to 
 him, and a source from which she knew he 
 would draw occasion to admire and praise her 
 for evermore. How great was the importance 
 she attached to the good report of one who had 
 so long witnessed (though not watched) her 
 conduct towards her brother, was proved by her
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 115 
 
 doing her haughty nature the violence of end- 
 ing their conference in these words : — " The de- 
 licate health of my brother, Mr. Hall, puts his 
 going to either of the universities quite out of the 
 question, and, as the safest mode of finishing his 
 education, he must travel. You know the at- 
 tachment between us, Mr. Hall, and how little 
 we could either of us endure a separation. I 
 must go with him, and it is this arrangement 
 which, from proper deference to public opinion, 
 renders it impossible for me, under my present 
 circumstances, to request the advantage of your 
 continuance with us." To increase the effect 
 of this sentence, she rose as she uttered it, 
 and pausing but one moment to receive the 
 ardent expressions of gratitude which flowed 
 from the lips of the tutor, left the room. 
 
 It is probable that Lady Augusta could 
 have done many a worse deed with less repug- 
 nance than she felt at uttering this intimation of 
 the possibility that a being like the man she 
 addressed, could be named in such a manner 
 with herself; but she knew the man — it was
 
 116 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 her object to bind his good-will to her for ever, 
 and she submitted to ])ay the price for it. 
 
 This affair being happily finished, the next 
 step towards accomplishing the plan she medi- 
 tated was to announce to her brother, or, as she 
 expressed it, consult with him upon the con- 
 tinental tour she purposed making. 
 
 At the name of Italy, the gentle eye and 
 delicate cheek of Theodore kindled with plea- 
 surable emotion. He seemed ready to fall at 
 the feet of his sister to express lus gratitude 
 and delight, and declared himself to be beyond 
 all comparison the happiest being in the world. 
 
 But there was still much to be done before 
 the large establishment at the castle could be 
 new modelled in such a manner as to be left for 
 three years, for it was proposed that they should 
 remain abroad till a few months before Lord 
 Tremordyn came of age. 
 
 One object of this journey was, however, al- 
 ready obtained. The heavy tedium which 
 threatened them was as effectually removed by 
 the active preparations for departure, as if the 
 excursion were already begun.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 117 
 
 As a woman of business, Lady Augusta 
 fully deserved all the praise Mr. Jones had 
 bestowed on her. Extended as were the 
 affairs now committed to her charge, the 
 arrangement of them seemed congenial to her 
 spirit, and to cost her neither embarrassment 
 nor fatigue. Sir Herbert Monson troubled her 
 not by any interference, and every thing was 
 left in such order in the hands of Mr. Morri- 
 son, the agent, as to render it very unlikely 
 that his assistance would be much wanted 
 during her absence. The Gatcomb cause alone 
 occasioned her some uneasiness, as she thought 
 it possible, well as the business appeared to be 
 going on, that something or other might arise 
 which would make her remaining abroad dis- 
 advantageous. But on this point the counsel 
 she had engaged gave her great encouragement, 
 and she remembered that should her presence 
 become necessary, there was no point of Europe 
 from which she could not return in a few weeks. 
 
 The Christmas was passed at Tremordyn; and, 
 though the deep mourningofthefamily precluded 
 the earl and his sister from displaying any ex-
 
 118 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 tended hospitality towards their friends and ac- 
 quaintance, the tenants and household de- 
 pendants were regaled on a scale of great mag- 
 nificence. Of near relations they had none. 
 The noble stock from whence they descended 
 appeared to be shy of multiplying unnecessary 
 shoots. The late earl was himself an only 
 child, and had no near collateral relative, so 
 that his children were left at his death more 
 isolated than is common for the representatives 
 of a race to be, whose kindred might so proudly 
 be claimed. But the peculiarity was regretted 
 by neither. Lord Tremordyn wanted nothing 
 but the presence of his sister, and the absence 
 of his tutor, to render him completely happy ; 
 and Lady Augusta, though she would un- 
 doubtedly have done honour due to any who 
 could boast alliance with the race from whence 
 she sprung, was far from lamenting that none 
 existed who could plead kindred as an excuse 
 for interfering in her affairs. 
 
 But though the more stately chambers of the 
 castle were tenanted only by the brother and 
 sister, the popularity of the family suffered
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 119 
 
 nothing. Every man, woman, and child on the 
 wide-spreading estates seemed to speak with 
 one voice, when they declared that nothing was 
 left them to wish but that the young lord, when 
 he came of age, might show as noble a spirit as 
 his guardian sister, whose name, laden with 
 blessings for unnumbered acts of generosity, Avas 
 left familiar in every mouth as that of the best 
 and noblest lady in the world. 
 
 One week after the Christmas festivities, 
 twelfth night and all, had been fairly eaten and 
 drunken through. Lord Tremordyn and his sis- 
 ter set off for London, and never did a youth- 
 ful heart beat lighter on stepping into a gay 
 barouche, than did that of Theodore, when, his 
 sister Augusta being handed into it, he sprung 
 after, and took his seat beside her. 
 
 A delay of two months in London was ine- 
 vitable — but they did not pass heavily. Ever}^ 
 thing was new, every thing delightful to Lord 
 Tremordyn, and nothing that could excite the 
 imagination or delight the fancy, was withheld 
 from him. Towards the middle of March, all 
 that could be done to put the important law-
 
 120 TREMOEDYN CLIFF. 
 
 suit in a train to proceed wihout her presence, 
 was accomplished by Lady Augusta. Sir Her- 
 bert Monson promised obedience to all her 
 wishes and his best exertions to boot — the tra- 
 velling carriage, with all its ingenious contri- 
 vances to make the traveller forget he was not 
 at home, was at length completed, and though 
 last, not least in the preparations, considered as 
 necessary by her ladyship, the personal attend- 
 ants of herself and her brother were dismissed, 
 and replaced by foreign domestics.
 
 121 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 He found th' effect of love in idleness. — Shakspeare. 
 
 It is in no way necessary to the progress of my 
 story that the travels of Lord Tremordyn and 
 his sister should be described at length. The 
 two years which followed their leaving England 
 brought with them such a continual succession 
 of pleasures, that the period passed like an in- 
 terval of fabled enchantment to the young no- 
 bleman. Paris— Switzerland— Italy— were all 
 dwelt in, and all enjoyed with the keenest de- 
 light. He revelled in the most delicious mu- 
 sic — entered with all the zest of young enthu- 
 siasm into the fascination of the theatre, sought 
 and won the smile of beauty — and, in short, 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 while injuring his health, and enervating his 
 mind, he gave a fair promise of running ex- 
 actly the race that his sister hoped, and antici- 
 pated. 
 
 The second winter of their absence was pass- 
 ed at Rome. The carnival was ended, and the 
 spirits of Lord Tremordyn, over-excited during 
 its continuance, drooped languidly when it 
 ceased. As the spring approached, his fancy, 
 already weary of great cities, their stir and 
 tumult, wandered back to Switzerland, whose 
 scenery had made a lasting impression on his 
 imagination. 
 
 " Let us pass the summer in exploring Swit- 
 zerland, sister Augusta,*" said he, one morning, 
 after practising the airs of the last new opera 
 upon his flute till he was tired. " Let us take 
 a house at Lausanne, make that our head-quar- 
 ters, and wander forth f« et Id — up mountains, 
 and along valleys, till we know every nook of 
 that fairy land by heart — shall we ?" 
 
 Though " sister Augusta"' was still the star 
 that directed his course, and ruled his destin}', 
 her system of unchecked indulgence, well as it
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 123 
 
 was doing her work, had taught the petted boy 
 to have a will, and had she refused her consent 
 to his proposal, though he might have yielded 
 obedience, it could hardly have been exacted 
 without her losing in some degree the character 
 she chose to enact of minister to all his wishes. 
 " As you will, dear Theodore," was the kind 
 reply : and with as little delay as might be, 
 they found themselves established in the pret- 
 tiest villa near Lausanne. The spring, as 
 Theodore said, seemed to be making her toilet, 
 and would speedily come forth with trappings 
 as gay and gaudy as those of a May-day queen. 
 The sweet temperate air, the lovely landscape, 
 the invigorating freshness felt at first returning 
 to rural scenes, after a long abode in " the 
 rank city," all contributed to give Lord Tre- 
 mordyn a feeling of health and enjoyment to 
 which he had lately been a stranger. His 
 flute was almost thrown aside while he spent 
 many hours of every day in riding in all direc- 
 tions through a neighbourhood as interesting to 
 the imagination as enchanting to the eye. He 
 mused and dreamed of philosophy at Vevay, 
 
 G 2
 
 124 TKEMOEDYN CLIFF. 
 
 and would pass morning after morning in find- 
 ing out new points of view on the banks of the 
 lake. The speedy result of this was an ap- 
 pearance of improved health that smote upon 
 the stern heart of his sister, with a pang as 
 sharp as one who loved him might feel while 
 watching the reverse. As the hue of health 
 deepened on his cheek it faded on hers, and ere 
 two months had passed in this mode of life, the 
 cruel hope upon which she fed, and which lately 
 had appeared so near fulfilment, seemed vanish- 
 ing away for ever. The wanderings so dear to 
 him became hateful to her, and she suffered 
 him to enjoy them alone, while she spent the 
 hours and days of his absence in meditating 
 fresh means of obtaining what for ever seemed 
 to elude her grasp. She would sit for hours 
 motionless in her chair— the blood curdling 
 round her heart, as again, and again, and again 
 she rehearsed in fancy all that might be done 
 to rid her of a burden that was becoming into- 
 lerable. 
 
 Yet still nature recoiled from performing 
 what her dark thoughts for ever suggested.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 125 
 
 The flattering hope of seeing all she wished ac- 
 complished for her by the hand of Heaven — 
 and this for many months had been increasing 
 daily — had softened and lulled her mind into a 
 state of contented expectation, which enabled 
 her to taste something more akin to happiness 
 than she had ever before enjoyed, for while it 
 weakened her terrible energy, it calmed and 
 soothed her spirits. But the hope mocked her, 
 and again every bad passion was awakened. 
 
 Theirs was a frightful and most discordant 
 union. Every kindly influence that brought hope 
 and health to him, tore both from her— and 
 while hatred rankled and festered in her bo- 
 som, the unconscious object of it tortured her 
 by playful caresses, and incessant demands upon 
 her for demonstrative affection in return. 
 
 What this state of things might have led to, 
 had nothing happened to change their course, 
 it is impossible to say, but early in June a cir- 
 cumstance occurred which though at first it oc- 
 casioned to Lady Augusta a terrible alarm, yet 
 in the tortuous course she took to meet and 
 baffle it, gave her a stimulant and occupation
 
 126 TKEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 which relieved her from that vacillation of pur- 
 pose which 
 
 " Letting- 1 dare not, wait upon I would," 
 
 had long rendered her life a burden. 
 
 Lord Tremordyn was now twenty, and 
 during the last year, his sister had more than 
 once felt some slight alarm, when his general 
 devotion to beauty seemed to settle into some 
 particular fit of admiration. But this never 
 lasted long: his young heart had never yet 
 been touched, and it so frequently happened 
 that the beauty of to-day chased the image of 
 the charmer of yesterday, that I>ady Augusta, 
 while she watched the hectic animation these 
 short-lived fancies lent to his cheek and eye, 
 learned to smile at, rather than to fear them. 
 
 But the time approached when he was des- 
 tined to experience another and a very differ- 
 ent feeling. 
 
 One of those trifling accidents which appear, 
 when they are related, to have been made on 
 purpose, introduced Lord Tremordyn, during 
 one of his rides along the lake of Geneva, to a
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 127 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell and her daughter, who were, 
 like himself, enjoying the beauty of the sce- 
 nery. 
 
 The elder lady was the widow of a Scotch 
 colonel of infantr}^, and her pension, joined to 
 the income of a small sum in the English funds, 
 enabled her to live with ease and comfort in 
 a very pretty residence, on the borders of the 
 lake, though it would not have sufficed to sup- 
 port herself and her daughter in Scotland, 
 where their connexions were such as to render 
 any very strict economy both difficult and dis- 
 agreeable. 
 
 The extreme beauty of Miss Maxwell pro- 
 duced the same effect on the young nobleman 
 that such a face would have produced on any 
 man. To see and not admire her was impos- 
 sible, and not to form a wish that he might 
 see her again, almost equally so. The young 
 Theodore had not of late been accustomed to 
 check any wish whatever — even if less perfectly 
 unobjectionable than that of beholding again 
 the very loveliest creature he had ever seen, 
 whose whole manner and appearance, as well
 
 128 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 as those of her mother, were such as to ren- 
 der any doubt of their respectability impossi- 
 ble. He therefore felt not tlie slightest scru- 
 ple about cultivating an acquaintance most 
 pleasantly begun, even though his sister Au- 
 gusta was not by to sanction it. 
 
 He made no secret to her, however, of his 
 delightful adventure, or of his determination 
 to profit by it whenever his morning route 
 led him near the abode of his fair country- 
 women. 
 
 As this happened four times in the course 
 of the ensuing week, Mrs. Maxwell, though 
 delighted with the appearance and manners 
 of their new acquaintance, thought proper, on 
 hearing that his sister resided with him at 
 Lausanne, to hint a wish of being introduced to 
 her. 
 
 Lord Tremordyn was enchanted at the idea 
 of making it a family acquaintance, and com- 
 municated Mrs. Maxwell's obliging expressions 
 to his sister, with the air of a person telling the 
 most agreeable thing in the world. 
 
 Lady Augusta's blood mounted to her brows,
 
 % 
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 129 
 
 and for a moment she had the discretion not to 
 speak, lest her voice should betray more than 
 she intended to convey by words. 
 
 " Who is Mrs. Maxwell, Theodore ?" said 
 she at last, in a tone that only expressed a little 
 surprise at the liberty taken. 
 
 " Who is she, sister Augusta ? Upon my 
 word I can tell you very little about who, 
 though a great deal about what, she is. She is 
 a charming, elegant, amiable, accomplished 
 woman, and her daughter is — an angel, I be- 
 lieve, for I never saw a mortal like her. Come, 
 now, sister Augusta," he continued, coaxingly, 
 '■' do not be too magnificent to be happy. W^e 
 are not at Tremordjn now, thank heaven ! and 
 remember, we have hardly seen a human being 
 since we left Rome. Do let us drive over to- 
 morrow, and call upon them." 
 
 " Impossible, Theodore ! .... Persons of 
 whom I have never heard the name . . . . " 
 
 *' O, the name is an excellent name, sister 
 Augusta — Scotch, you know — a very distin- 
 guished Scotch name. I wish you would go 
 with me ; but if you will not, you must live all 
 
 G 5
 
 $ 
 
 130 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 day to-morrow without my delightful company, 
 for unless I attend you there and back again, 
 I shall pass the day with them.**' 
 
 The whole of this speech was wormwoo^, 
 spoken as it was too, with a glow of complexion 
 that looked as if he intended to live for ever. 
 
 " O fool ! fool ! fool !" . she murmured, in- 
 wardly ; " and is it come to this ! . . . . Do I 
 not — O ! do I not deserve all I can suffer ?" 
 
 Lord Tremordyn, seeming to think the sub- 
 ject ended, took up a book, and Lady Augusta 
 left the room to give herself time for reflejction. 
 
 That the progress of this dangerous intimacy 
 must be watched, and cut short by removal, 
 if necessary, was so evident, that a little con- 
 sideration convinced her that the calling upon 
 an obscure individual was but a trifling price to 
 pay for the power of doing it. Lady Augusta, 
 therefore, when she met her brother at dinner, 
 told him with one of her sweetest smiles — and 
 she could smile— that although visiting stran- 
 gers was very much out of her usual way, yet 
 she believed that upon this occasion she must 
 suffer dignity to be beat out of the field by
 
 TREMOllDYN CLIFF. 131 
 
 curiosity. " For in truth, Theodore," she 
 . added, " your account of these ladies of the 
 lake has awakened this feminine feeling very 
 completely ; so if you are still in the humour 
 for it, we will drive to see them to-morrow." 
 
 Lord Tremordyn was delighted, though even 
 St this early stage of the affair, his feelings had 
 Assumed a firmness and reality which already 
 jfendered him a more independent being than 
 he i had ever before felt; and many a reverie 
 On the charms of Catherine Maxwell, and the 
 well-known pride of his sister-guardian, ended 
 by a mental self-congratulation, that come 
 what would, he should be of age in a twelve- 
 month. 
 
 » 
 
 He wisely Accepted the tardy assent of his 
 sister, as graciously as if it had never been 
 withheld. 
 
 " Thank you ! my dearest, best Augusta,"' 
 he exclaimed ; " never, surely, had any man 
 so charming a sister as mine." 
 
 As soon, however, as this wished-for consent 
 was obtained, the young lover became restless 
 and anxious lest the impression with which the
 
 132 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 ladies might mutually inspire each other should 
 prove less favourable than he wished. His 
 principal anxiety certainly rested on the possi- 
 bility that Lady Augusta might not see in the 
 beautiful Catherine all the grace, sweetness, 
 talent, and goodness, which were so evident to 
 him. Half-a-dozen times that evening, and 
 as often during the early hours of the fol- 
 lowing morning, he was on the point of sending 
 off his groom with a note to Mrs. Maxwell, 
 announcing the intended visit, but as often 
 checked himself, from the fear that the real 
 motive of his doing so might appear, and that 
 his new friends might be hurt by perceiving 
 that he thought some preparation necessary 
 for their receiving his sister. So at length he 
 determined to let things take their natural 
 course, and set off* at noon with a beating heart, 
 whose throbs seemed to be given alternately to 
 pleasure and anxiety. 
 
 The villa of Mrs. Maxwell was very small, 
 but very pretty, and quite in the style to add 
 graphic eff'ect to an acquaintance formed in so 
 romantic a manner. If it were principally the
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 133 
 
 beauty of Catherine which Lord Tremordyn 
 wished to display advantageously to his sister, 
 he must have felt fully satisfied, for no prepa- 
 ration could have heightened the effect of her 
 appearance, as she first met Lady Augusta's 
 eye. 
 
 She had been engaged in cutting blossoms 
 from the beautiful flowering shrubs with which 
 their garden abounded, and having thrown off 
 her hat, and shaken her rich brown curls back 
 from her bright face, she stood before a table 
 on which she had thrown her treasures, and 
 while gazing on them with a smile of admiration 
 and delight, that was almost childish in its in- 
 nocent happiness, she half said, half sang, to 
 her mother, who was seated on a sofa looking 
 at her. 
 
 Here I can make thee beds of roses. 
 And a thousand fragrant posies, 
 A cap of flowers, and a girdle, 
 Embroider'd all with leaves of — 
 
 myrtle, she would have added, but a step made 
 her look up, and Lord Tremordyn and his 
 majestic sister stood before her.
 
 134 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 A blush mounted to her cheek, which needed 
 not such an accession of loveliness — but it was 
 such a blush that none but a poet ought to see 
 — for none but a poet could describe. All 
 that in vulgar prose I can venture to say of it 
 is, that if angels blush, it must be exactly in 
 such a tint — so bright, so fleeting, and so pure. 
 It was not the blush of shyness, but of sur- 
 prise, and agreeable surprise too. Catherine 
 Maxwell was not yet quite seventeen, but 
 nearly the whole of the last year had been spent 
 by herself and mother among their relations 
 and friends in Scotland, where, passing from 
 one gay hospitable mansion to another, she had 
 ceased to be frightened at the sight of a stran- 
 ger, even though that stranger was Lady Au- 
 gusta Delaporte. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell was really all that Lord Tre- 
 mordyn had described her, and could pleasure 
 of any kind have found its way in that hour to 
 Lady Augusta's feelings, she must have been 
 pleased by her reception — but her emotions 
 were of a different nature. A sensation like 
 terror seemed to seize upon her heart — her
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 135 
 
 self-confidence threatened to forsake her — she 
 felt baflSed, discomfited, and beaten, and Theo- 
 dore with unspeakable surprise saw her falter- 
 ing and hesitating in her address, while the 
 young Catherine and her mother were easy, 
 graceful, and unembarrassed. 
 
 The visit was not a long one, but ere its 
 close Lady Augusta had recovered herself suf- 
 ficiently to do her own honours, though with 
 very different success in the opinion of the two 
 ladies. 
 
 " What a noble creature !'' exclaimed Ca- 
 therine, as the carriage drove from the door. 
 " It is a pity she and her gentle brother cannot 
 make an exchange ; she would be the most 
 lordly knight that ever buckled on a sword, 
 and he would be " she stopped, half laugh- 
 ing, and then added in a whisper, as if she ex- 
 pected to be scolded, " the very prettiest 
 damsel in the world." 
 
 " And you really pretend to admire that 
 dark-brow'd woman, Catherine, more than her 
 exquisitely handsome brother?" 
 
 " I have not said so, mamma ; I admire Lord
 
 1 36 TIIEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 Tremordyn more than any body I ever saw in 
 my life. Mamma, don't you think he is very 
 like the angel that is showing a whole family 
 the way to heaven, in that picture at my cousin 
 Murray's.?" 
 
 " I do not at all know what picture you 
 mean, Catherine,'' replied Mrs. Maxwell, look- 
 ing vexed, " but Lord Tremordyn is not only 
 the handsomest young man I ever saw, but de- 
 cidedly one of the most intelligent and agree- 
 able. As for his sister — she is handsome too, 
 certainly, but she looks as if one could never 
 get acquainted with her." 
 
 " I cannot agree, mamma. She does not wear 
 her heart upon her sleeve, I can see that — and 
 I cannot quite make out whether she dotes 
 upon her young brother, or not, . . . but it 
 would be extremely amusing to make her out." 
 
 " That woman's heart would make but a 
 crabbed study, Catherine, depend upon it ; and 
 I doubt if the result would pay one for learn- 
 ing it. But be she good or bad, we must 
 send to Lausanne for a carriage to return her 
 visit."
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 137 
 
 " When shall we go, mamma ? I long to look 
 at her beautiful mysterious eyes again." 
 
 " You must wait till Thursday, Catherine ; 
 I cannot go before," 
 
 " And this is Monday ! Well, I must bear 
 it as well as I can — but I never did see such 
 eyes before. My cousin Elizabeth has eyes 
 that can look at you, and about you, and 
 through you too, upon occasion, and I always 
 thought that they were better worth looking at, 
 and had more to say for themselves, than any 
 other eyes. Yet, after all, what have they to 
 tell but that she loves you dearly, with now 
 and then a flash that says, ' if any body dares 
 ill-use you, I will kill them,' and occasionally a 
 little extra-illumination, when she has won a 
 triumph in some war of wit ; but what is all 
 this, mamma, compared to the deep-toned elo- 
 quence of this goddess-like woman's glance ? I 
 confess, I do not at present fully understand 
 the language — it has a little of the obscure 
 sublimity of the Syriac or Chaldaic — but I 
 would learn a new alphabet for the sake of un- 
 derstanding her."
 
 138 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 " And pray, Catherine, as you profess so 
 much learning on the subject of eyes, what 
 do you read in those of Lord Tremordyn ?" 
 
 " What do I read in Lord Tremordyn's 
 eyes, mamma?" repeated Catherine, laughing a 
 little, and blushing a good deal. " I have 
 been told by my cousin Elizabeth, that young 
 gentlemen's eyes, when they look at young 
 ladies, always say the same thing — so it is 
 hardly worth reading at all." 
 
 " That sounds very much like affectation, 
 Catherine," replied her mother, laughing in her 
 turn ; ^' if you had given me a direct answer, 
 I should perhaps have thought you had studied 
 those marvellously speaking eyes less." 
 
 " Say you so, mamma? then that you may 
 not deceive yourself as to the degree of private 
 meditation I bestow upon them, I will not only 
 tell you, but show you, what they say .... 
 Is it not thus they speak ?" and she ludicrously 
 threw so much tenderness into her own lustrous 
 eyes, and hung her head in an attitude so like 
 that in which Lord Tremordyn was wont to sit 
 as he looked at her, that Mrs. Maxwell could
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 139 
 
 not refrain from laughing, though really vexed 
 at perceiving that her daughter was in truth 
 more perfectly " fancy free" than she either 
 wished or expected. 
 
 *' It is very easy to move one's muscles to 
 laughter, Catherine," observed her mother, 
 " without exciting either sympathy or approba- 
 tion. I see nothing ridiculous in Lord Tre- 
 mordyn.'^ 
 
 " Nor I either, indeed, mamma. You don't 
 know how much I like him .... only I think 
 his sister handsomer." 
 
 For Lady Augusta's feelings respecting this 
 visit, we must again have recourse to her 
 journal. 
 
 " June 20th, 183L— Why should I thus be 
 picked out by fate to be the very make-game 
 of nature.^ With powers of mind which I 
 am conscious set me above the generality of 
 human beings, I seem to be cursed by a base 
 alloy of weakness that would disgrace the 
 lowest .... I have suffered a worm that I
 
 140 TRExMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 scorned, to grow and strengthen'within my very 
 
 bosom, till it had power to destroy me 
 
 and then, as if this madness were not enough, 
 I have myself pointed him the way that must 
 lead to my everlasting ruin — have pampered 
 and fed his childish taste for beauty till it will 
 lead him to overthrow at one wild stroke the 
 glorious hope of my existence . . . I have, 
 woman-like, shrunk from doing violence upon 
 a thing that cringed and clung to me with 
 stupid fondness, and for this shrinking I have 
 paid long years of useless pining, and of hope 
 
 delayed Shall I go on for ever ? . . . . 
 
 Shall I let him take that creature, whose love- 
 liness seems made but to destroy me — shall I 
 see him take, and marry her, and raise up sons 
 to mock me ? Shall I do this to save me from 
 a bugbear of the night .... Or him ... . 
 or her .... My brain is reeling, Alas ! 
 alas ! where is my strength of mind — my 
 force of character? Did I but dream it ? And 
 shall he, a puny boy, thus brave me ? No, no, 
 no ! — the end is not come yet." 
 
 Little did poor Catherine think, while amus-
 
 TREMORDYK CLIFF. 
 
 141 
 
 ing herself by studying, as she called it, the 
 interior of Lady Augusta's spirit, of the misery 
 and shame that dark spirit was meditating for 
 her. Like a poor moth that flutters round a 
 flame, she drew near, and more near, the fate 
 that threatened her. The admiration she had 
 expressed at first seeing Lord Tremordyn's 
 sister was quite genuine, and though she was 
 far from insensible to the puzzling variations of 
 manner which their further acquaintance eli- 
 cited, she seemed rather interested than of- 
 fended by it. 
 
 " It would be such a triumph to make her 
 likerfnejmammal'' she exclaimed after an evening 
 they had passed together, during which Cathe- 
 rine had caught the eye of Lady Augusta 
 fixed upon her with an expression that the poor 
 girl could in no way interpret ; '' she says she 
 does not love music .... yet how she listened 
 to me . c ... I thought she hardly seemed to 
 breathe, while I sung that last song to-night." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell had been much more intent 
 upon watching its effects on Lord Tremordyn, 
 and answered slightly — " Lady Augusta is so
 
 142 TIIEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 proud and so queer, Catherine, that I really 
 trouble myself very little about her. Her bro- 
 ther, it is plain, loves music passionately. I 
 think I never saw a finer expression of counte- 
 nance than his, when he is listening to it. His 
 very soul seems to speak in his face, and thank 
 you for the pleasure you give him." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I see all that too," replied Ca- 
 therine; " but it is so plainly expressed that it 
 amounts almost to open praise and flattery. 
 Now, do confess, mamma, that there was some- 
 thing infinitely more .... what shall I say ? 
 .... soothing to my vanity, I believe, in hear- 
 ing Lady Augusta mutter between her teeth, 
 as if in spite of them — ' Syren !'.... She did 
 indeed, mamma .... I dare say you did not 
 hear her, because Lord Tremordyn was speak- 
 ing to you ; but she did say it." 
 
 Catherine was right — she did say it ; and 
 feel it too, with all the bitterness of hatred and 
 of fear. 
 
 It seemed, indeed, as if this beautiful girl 
 were formed to captivate Lord Tremordyn in 
 every way. Her voice was as extraordinary in
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 143 
 
 its power, as enchanting in its almost unrivalled 
 sweetness ; and in all she said, and all she looked, 
 there was a mixture of innocence and grace, 
 peculiarly attractive to a mind of almost fasti- 
 dious refinement. 
 
 The progress of the young man's attachment 
 was, however, too much like other histories of 
 the same kind to be long dwelt upon. Blind 
 as the passion of love is said to make its vo- 
 taries, Lord Tremordyn saw plainly that there 
 were some points in the connexion he now seri- 
 ously meditated, which were very likely to make 
 it disagreeable to his sister. It was not from 
 any thing she had yet said to him that he drew 
 this conclusion, but partly from his general 
 knowledge of the immense importance she at- 
 tached to high connexions and illustrious lineage, 
 and partly from the sort of manner she assumed 
 towards Mrs. Maxwell and her daughter, not 
 very easily described, but which, though rather 
 more familiar and unceremonious than was 
 usual to her, had to his feelings less the tone of 
 intimacy than of indifference, and even con- 
 tempt. Devoted as Lord Tremordyn had ever
 
 144 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 been to his sister, he had a much greater con- 
 sciousness of independence upon all matters of 
 consequence than she supposed, and the un- 
 doubted and unquestionable power of acting 
 for himself which must follow his coming of 
 age, often rose upon his mind to console him 
 for the mortifications her haughty nature now 
 made him endure. Lady Augusta had great 
 and comprehensive faculties ; but her power of 
 reading the human heart was but limited, or, 
 whilst she followed the youthful pair with the 
 careful eyes of a spy, whose existence hangs 
 upon his watchfulness, she would not have 
 overlooked the fact that every word, tone, and 
 glance of hers, which betrayed a want of respect 
 and consideration, either for Catherine or her 
 mother, roused for their protection a feeling of 
 manly firnmess within the bosom of Lord Tre- 
 mordyn more certainly hostile to her wishes 
 than the utmost vehemence of passion could 
 have been.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 145 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Why, bou- now, Hecate — you look angrily." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 It was after an imprudence on the part of 
 Lady Augusta of the nature alluded to in the 
 last chapter, that a scene occurred between the 
 brother and sister which seemed likely to bring 
 whatever hung in doubt between them to a 
 speedy crisis. 
 
 " Macbeth spoke well, sister Augusta," ex- 
 claimed Lord Tremordyn, starting from a sofa 
 on which he had been lounging in silent medi- 
 tation for half an hour — " Macbeth spoke well 
 when he said — 
 
 'If chance will have me king — then chance may crown me.' 
 
 For what have all our well-arranged, deeply- 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 TREMOllDYX CLIFF. 
 
 weighed schemes and ])rojects for pleasure ob- 
 tained for us, comparable to the delight which 
 my chance meeting with our charming friends 
 has produced ?" 
 
 To this her ladyship slightly answered, 
 hardly raising her eyes from her book as she 
 spoke — " They are pretty women, Theodore, 
 both mother and daughter, certainly — and just 
 the kind of figures to set off lake scenery to 
 advantage."" 
 
 Lord Tremordyn at this moment, for the first 
 time in his life, looked like a man, and a proud 
 one. He raised his head as loftily as his sister 
 herself could have done, and replied slowly, 
 distinctly, and without a trace of faltering — 
 " One of these women at least will be called 
 upon to fill a station in which her graces will 
 be confined to a circle less indefinite than the 
 admirers of lake scenery. Lady Augusta. It 
 is my intention to make Miss Maxwell m}^ 
 wife." 
 
 Lady Augusta smiled — and after a moment's 
 silence said, " You will wait till you are of age, 
 1 presume, dear Theodore ? — till then, you
 
 TREMORDYN ( LIFF. 147 
 
 know, you can contract no legal marriage with- 
 out my consent." 
 
 " And would you withhold it, Augusta?" 
 Lady Augusta changed her light tone, for 
 one of deep solemnity, as she replied, " Should 
 I fulfil the will of my father, Theodore, if I 
 accorded it ? — Shall I consent to your placing 
 a stigma on the pedigree of our house ? Shall I 
 be aiding and abetting a mad boy, in bringing 
 irretrievable disgrace upon his name? Shall I 
 so repay the unbounded confidence our father 
 placed in me ? " 
 
 Then, again, suddenly changing her lofty 
 tone, to one expressive of the deepest scorn, she 
 continued — " And who, but an unprincipled, 
 thorough -paced, professional adventuress, would 
 receive the crazy vows of a boy, whose ripened 
 manhood must perforce deplore the madness of 
 
 his youth ! If Theodore you are indeed 
 
 the young girl's lover, it must be in a way to 
 
 render me a most unfit confidante Oh fie ! 
 
 fie ! fie ! .... Let me not again hear such 
 frightful language from you ; Theodore .... I 
 
 h2
 
 148 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 think we must pursue our tour, brother, and 
 that immediately." 
 
 There was much firmness, but very little ve- 
 hemence in her manner of saying all this, and 
 for a moment Lord Tremordyn stood before 
 her, as if heart struck, and doubtful how to re- 
 ply — at least she so construed his silence, and 
 believing her own power unbroken, she raised 
 her eyes to his with one of those smiles of pro- 
 tecting kindness, by which she had so long been 
 wont to decorate and hide the chains in which 
 she held him. But the look she met in return 
 was new to lier. 
 
 An hour before, not even a painter would 
 have confessed a resemblance between the bro- 
 ther and sister; but now, the features of the 
 young man, strengthened, and rendered almost 
 rigid by emotion, showed the same power of ex- 
 ])ressing deep-felt passion — the same aptitude to 
 give warning of excessive pride. 
 
 "If any other than you, my sister, had 
 spoken thus of my future wife, I should have 
 well known how to answer it ... . As it is. . . /'
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 149 
 
 He struggled with strong and bitter feeling, 
 but after a moment resumed—" As it is, Augus- 
 ta, I will only tell you that my choice is fixed 
 beyond the power of any scorn or contumely to 
 shake it. I know the legal power you have 
 over me — and must yield to it ; but if you hope 
 Augusta, that the sweet years we have passed 
 together " His voice trembled, and he look- 
 ed in her face as if to find some feeling that 
 would answer to his own, — but his sister was 
 gazing upon him with distended eyes that ex- 
 pressed incredulity rather than tenderness, and 
 uttered not a word. 
 
 " If you wish," he continued, " that they 
 shall not be all forgotten, speak not again in 
 such a tone of Catherine " His voice re- 
 covered its firmness as he proceeded. 
 
 " Till this hateful year is over, our faith can 
 bind us, though the law cannot — and with 
 this I must perforce be satisfied — if you persist 
 in your refusal .... but O Augusta ! — if indeed 
 you love me, as I have thought you did, you 
 will retract it." 
 
 To this point Lady Augusta listened to him
 
 150 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 silently, but now, rising from the chair, and 
 glaring her eyes upon him with an expression 
 of terrific fury, she shrieked, rather than spoke, 
 the word, " never !" 
 
 Lord Tremordyn shuddered. He, too, look- 
 ed at her, for the first time under a new aspect, 
 and passion on both sides was making wild 
 work of all the gentler feelings with which affec- 
 tion on one side, and policy on the other, had 
 hitherto bound them together. 
 
 " Let us understand one another at once. 
 Lady Augusta," he said, struggling to assume 
 the calmness of strength. " Believe me, when 
 I say that my purpose is fixed, and remember 
 your opposition can be effectual only for one 
 poor year. For your own sake, therefore, let it 
 be made with propriety : whatever your mistaken 
 notions of duty may lead you to do, for your 
 own sake, let it be done respectfully towards 
 Catherine — towards my future countess — to- 
 wards your future sister." 
 
 " Your countess .... my sister .... For my 
 sake ! " 
 
 Lady Augusta again laughed.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 151 
 
 Lord Tremordyn walked towards the door, 
 but ere he reached it, his arm was seized by his 
 sister. 
 
 *' Hear me, Theodore ! " she exclaimed, 
 " wretched, deluded boy, hear me ! If these 
 women be what you fondly believe — if indeed, 
 they be not what I think them, they will hardly 
 consent to entrap by vows a youth whose only 
 guardian shall speak to them as I will speak. 
 If they will consent to receive your plighted 
 faith on such terms, let them. I will still trust 
 to the nobility that is in you, to judge them af- 
 terwards. Now, sir, go with me if you will, 
 and hear me tell them what they are about — I 
 will do it instantly." 
 
 She stepped back as she spoke, and rang the 
 bell. 
 
 " Stay, Augusta, stay ! " exclaimed her bro- 
 ther, in agony, as she attempted to leave the 
 room, for God's sake push me not to distrac- 
 tion." 
 
 *' I will do my duty, sir- think not to stop 
 me The carriage . . . ." she cried aloud as the
 
 152 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 
 
 servant appeared, " the carriage"" — and she 
 attempted to pass her brother, as he stood pale 
 and motionless in the middle of the room. But 
 with a sudden movement he placed himself be- 
 tween her and the door, and falling on his 
 knees folded his arms around her, passionately 
 exclaiming, " Spare me, A ugusta ! spare me I " 
 Had Lord Tremordyn been in truth affianced 
 to the lovely girl who had so suddenly seized on 
 his affections, (which his language had given 
 Lady Augusta room to believe,) the idea of the 
 terrible visit she threatened would have alarm- 
 ed him less.— But this was not the case. His 
 eyes indeed, as Catherine had playfully allowed, 
 as well as the open, undisguised attention he 
 showed her, had given to her, and still more to 
 her watchful mother, a pretty just idea of the 
 state of his heart. Mrs. Maxwell was certainly 
 expecting such a declaration as would justify 
 her encouraging an attachment so every way 
 desirable ; but Theodore had doubts at the 
 bottom of his heart, whether he were yet be- 
 loved in return : he knew indeed that he was
 
 TREMOEDYN CLIFF. 153 
 
 ever received with a smile, but he feared that he 
 was often dismissed without a sigh, and it was 
 this that from day to day had delayed the avowal 
 of his attachment. Should therefore this as- 
 tounding visit from Lady Augusta take place, 
 he felt certain that he should lose the object of 
 his love for ever — he felt certain, that neither 
 her own gay, unfettered spirit, nor the liberal 
 mind of her well-born mother, would submit to 
 the threatened insult, or ever permit him to re- 
 new his visits on any terms. 
 
 The effect therefore of her threat was even 
 greater than she herself anticipated, and her 
 bosom throbbed with triumph as she looked 
 down upon the agony of her victim. Confident 
 in her success, she felt every nerve strengthened, 
 and with an eye and voice, indicating such fix- 
 edness of purpose as left him nothing to hope, 
 she pronounced slowly and deliberately these 
 words. 
 
 " Think not, Theodore, rash and degenerate 
 as you are, that I will so utterly abandon you 
 as ever to permit this most disgraceful union to 
 take place. These women talk of noble rela- 
 
 h5
 
 154 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 tives in Scotland — to each and every of them 
 will I appeal — both publicly and privately, in 
 such a sort, as shall shame them into preven- 
 ting this girl, (if indeed she be of kin to them,) 
 from thus shamelessly entangling — a boy." 
 
 Lord Tremordyn's eyes were fixed with fright- 
 ful earnestness on hers as she spoke. He seem- 
 ed to hold his breath suspended, lest he should 
 lose a word of the dreadful sentence she was 
 pronouncing, and when she ceased, he relaxed 
 his arms which still encircled her, and uttering 
 the word " barbarian ! " with a fearful scream 
 sunk on the floor, which was instantly deluged 
 by his blood. 
 
 Lady Augusta stood aghast in horror and dis- 
 may — the truth at once rushed upon her mind 
 — the unfortunate young man had burst a blood- 
 vessel in the paroxysm of anger and despair 
 which she had raised. 
 
 A pang like sorrow and remorse seized on her 
 heart as she hung over him ; but the next mo- 
 ment an impious triumph flashed from her dark 
 eyes, and her lips murmured, " This is the 
 hand of Heaven ! "
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 155 
 
 Her presence of mind returned ; she ran to 
 the bell, and pulled it with a degree of violence 
 that immediately brought more than one servant 
 to the room — then seating herself on the floor, 
 before her brother, she placed his head on her 
 knees, murmuring words of hope and affection 
 in his ear. 
 
 He was cautiously conveyed to bed, and in 
 as short a time as it was possible to procure 
 medical help, it arrived. M. Nouvert, the Lau- 
 sanne physician, did all that skill could do, but 
 the discharge of blood continued at intervals 
 for many hours. During the night, however,, 
 it ceased entirely, and towards morning the pa- 
 tient fell into a sound and refreshing sleep. 
 
 M. Nouvert quitted not his bed-side during 
 the whole of this anxious night, and when 
 Lord Tremordyn awoke, late in the morning, 
 he gave it as his opinion, that it was not likely 
 the bleeding would return. 
 
 It was then that Lady Augusta desired to see 
 the practitioner alone. 
 
 " I request you, sir," she said, *' without 
 being influenced by any consideration for my
 
 156 TllEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 feelings, to tell niethe exact truth respecting the 
 situation of my brother."' 
 
 The physician hesitated. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, if I am peremptory," she 
 resumed, — *' I must know the worst at once." 
 
 This was said in a tone of such stern com- 
 mand, that the feeling which would have avoid- 
 ed giving sudden pain, gave way before it, and 
 M. Nouvert replied, " Lord Tremordyn is in 
 a situation of great danger, madam." 
 
 " Immediate danger, sir?"*"* 
 
 " Perhaps not — he may survive this attack, 
 but others must be expected." 
 
 " Of this, M. Nouvert, you are confident? 
 You give this dreadful opinion, as one in which 
 there is no mixture of doubt .?" 
 
 " I do, my lady," replied the pliysician, 
 dropping his eyes, from believing he read de- 
 spair in the strangely dark and earnest gaze 
 that was fixed upon him. 
 
 Lady Augusta was silent for some minutes, 
 and then resumed her questionings in a subdued 
 and quiet tone, like that of a person struggling 
 to conceal emotion — and in this there was no
 
 TIIEMOIIDYX CLIFF. ].37 
 
 guile. She was struggling, and powerfully, to 
 subdue the throbbings of her heart, which flut- 
 tered almost to choking — one n)onient with the 
 triumphant ecstasy of feeling, that, at last, she 
 surely touched upon the possession of all for 
 ■which slie wished to live — and the next, with a 
 sickening Cjualm, at remembering the pale face 
 of the gentle being whom her violence had has- 
 tened to the grave. 
 
 " I must know all, sir,'' she resumed, almost 
 in a whisper — but a whisper so deep and clear 
 that it might have been heard though a tor- 
 rent had roared beside her, — " I must know how 
 long he is likely to remain with me.'"'' 
 
 " Your ladyship must prepare yourself to en- 
 dure much uncertainty on this point,^' replied 
 Nouvert ; " every thing will depend upon the 
 degree of care he can be persuaded to take of 
 himself. If it were possible to guard him from 
 every powerful emotion, whether of sorrow or 
 joy— from all fatigue of mind and body, and 
 from every inclemency both of climate and sea- 
 son — he might live for years, my lady. But at his 
 age we find it almost impossible to obtain this.''
 
 158 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 '^ For years ? " repeated Lady Augusta, 
 
 in an accent that might have puzzled a finely 
 delicate ear to interpret. 
 
 " I would not delude you, my lady," replied 
 the kind-hearted physician — " and having once 
 heard the truth, I think you will suffer less by 
 steadily keeping it in sight, than by forgetting, 
 — and then, as must happen — having it again 
 brought before you." 
 
 "It must happen — do what we will— it must 
 happen," repeated Lady Augusta, almost speak- 
 ing to herself. 
 
 " I have had considerable experience, my 
 lady,""' returned Nouvert, " and I have never 
 yet known an instance of a vessel of such size 
 being ruptured, where the patient survived above 
 a year or two." 
 
 *' A year or two," — again echoed Lady Au- 
 gu sta. 
 
 " Compose yourself, I entreat you, madam," 
 said M. Nouvert ; " my lord must not perceive 
 this intensity of feeling in you. Nothing, be- 
 lieve me, will so certainly hasten a fatal crisis, 
 as exposing him to any strong emotion, whether 
 of tenderness or of grief."
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 159 
 
 " I thank you, sir, said Lady Augusta, after 
 drawing a long deep breath — '' I thank you — '' 
 and rising from her seat, she gave him to under- 
 stand that the conference was ended. 
 
 Could the pages of Lady Augusta's journal 
 give any definite information respecting either 
 her feelings or intentions during this period, 
 they should be quoted ; but in truth her mind 
 ^eems to have been too violently affected by the 
 sudden approach of what she had so long de- 
 sired, to permit her arranging her thoughts in a 
 manner sufficiently connected to make them in- 
 telligible. It might be, that a stronger degree 
 of affection than she was herself conscious of, 
 mixed itself with the worserjfeelings inspired 
 by her unfortunate brother. The first, and in- 
 deed the only unruly throb of passion she had 
 yet felt, was caused by ambition ; it had roused 
 her early from the indifference of childhood, 
 had grown with her growth, and strengthened 
 with her strength. But though conscious from 
 the first hour she began to think, that she was 
 under the influence of a passion already stronger 
 than herself, she yet gloried in it, from be-
 
 160 TItEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 lieving that it was the noblest that could rule 
 the human heart, and she hugged this " last 
 infirmity of noble mind," when she should have 
 crushed it with trembling abhorrence. Never- 
 theless, there was that within her, which even, 
 while glorying in the passion to which she was 
 a slave, would gladly have avoided " the illness 
 should attend it." 
 
 It was this which had for years kept her 
 wavering between a passionate desire of possess- 
 ing what she looked upon as her supreme good, 
 and a human shrinking from the desperate 
 means by which alone she could insure it. 
 
 Now therefore, that this " good," this end 
 and object of all her aching wishes, was at once 
 brought close to her grasp, the vehemence of 
 her emotions almost shook her brain ; and 
 then too, poor humanity paid its usual penalty 
 for hope possessed— something like regret mixed 
 itself with her triumph — such at least is the 
 only interpretation which it appears reasonable 
 to put upon such phrases as " Poor Theodore ! 
 .... so beautiful ! — so young ! . . . . How the 
 boy loved me ! and the like, which.
 
 TllEMOllDVX CLIFF. 161 
 
 scattered up and down several pages of inco- 
 herent reveries, are to be found in Lady Au- 
 gusta's journal, between the 27th of July, on 
 which day Lord Tremordyn's accident occurred, 
 and the 9th of August following. 
 
 By that time, the partial recovery anticipated 
 by M. Nouvert took place. Lord Tremordyn 
 had left his bed, and though very pale, and 
 greatly reduced in strength, was conscious of 
 all the delightful sensations of returning health. 
 
 Being entirely ignorant of the melancholy 
 truth announced to his sister, that notwith- 
 standing this delicious feeling, his days on 
 earth must be few, he was far from regretting 
 the accident he had suffered from, and farther 
 still from anticipating any evil consequence as 
 its result. On the contrary, he revelled in the 
 hope, that his sister would not renew an oppo- 
 sition, which had proved so dangerous to him, 
 and in this he judged rightly. 
 
 It was nearly impossible to have seen him, as 
 Lady Augusta had done, stretched pale and 
 helpless before her, and not have felt some 
 touch of human pity. And to know, as she
 
 162 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 
 
 watched his feeble life revive within him, that 
 its days were numbered — that xothing, as she 
 often repeated to herself, could save him from 
 an early tomb; this so effectually removed all 
 fear, that he should ever again stand in her 
 way, as to leave her at full liberty to indulge 
 that pity, without running any risk of again 
 obscuring her destiny by it. 
 
 It was with a faltering voice, and hectic 
 cheek, that poor Theodore on the first day 
 of his descending to the drawing room, pro- 
 nounced the name of Maxwell ; and most 
 anxious was the glance with which he watched 
 to discover its eflPect upon his sister. All his 
 hopes seemed realized, by the manner of her re- 
 ceiving it. 
 
 '* Be quite easy on their account, dearest 
 Theodore," she replied ; " I have constantly 
 sent them tidings of your health, and have pro- 
 mised, that your first airing should take you to 
 call on them." 
 
 The strong effect which these words pro- 
 duced, the varying colour, the faltering voice, 
 the trembling of every limb, as he replied
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 163 
 
 to tliem, recalled to Lady Augusta, the sen- 
 tence of the physician, that " all emotion 
 would be dangerous." 
 
 She started as she remembered it, and a sort 
 of doubtful, mixed sensation, impossible to be 
 defined, or analyzed, took possession of her. 
 
 " He must, he shall be happy, for the short 
 time that is left him ;'' it was thus she wrote 
 that night in her journal. " No power in 
 heaven or earth can blame me for making 
 
 him so the rest — is in steadier hands 
 
 than mine." 
 
 If Lord Tremordyn was delighted at the 
 effect his illness had produced on the mind of 
 his sister, he was still more so, at perceiving the 
 soft and gentle welcome it won for him from 
 Catherine. She was indeed more deeply 
 touched, than she would herself have believed 
 possible, on seeing the change which a fort- 
 night's absence had made in him. Mrs. Max- 
 well too, was greatly struck by it ; but more 
 still, perhaps, by the altered aspect and manner 
 of Lady Augusta. 
 
 Something very like a part of the truth sug-
 
 164} TUEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 gested itself to her. ** He has communicated 
 his attachment to her, and she has opposed it," 
 thought she, " the consequence has been, this 
 ruptured blood-vessel, and now she laments her 
 opposition, and is willing to sanction his ad- 
 dresses." Every thing that passed, every word, 
 every look, whether from the brother or the 
 sister, conspired to strengthen and confirm this 
 shrewd surmise ; and if Mrs. Maxwell felt dis- 
 posed to overlook the misfortune of delicate 
 health, in favour of the splendid alliance that 
 now appeared likely to be offered to her daugh- 
 ter, sonie excuse for it may be found in her 
 natural anxiety for the provision of a nearly 
 portionless girl, whose uncommon loveliness 
 made protection peculiarly desirable. 
 
 Whatever vacillation of purpose Lady Au- 
 gusta might have reproached herself with 
 formerly, from this period nothing of the kind 
 could be set to her account, either for or 
 against her. Little of amiable weakness as 
 she had hitherto felt towards her brother, it 
 was all she had to reproach herself with in her 
 pursuit of what, even upon her knees, she ac-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 165 
 
 knowledged to be the great object of her exist- 
 ence. Towards him, there was no longer any 
 need of feigning more affection than she felt, or 
 of battling against the small remorseful portion 
 that was sincere. She considered his race as 
 already run ; he was removed from her path 
 by the will of God, and the few steps which re- 
 mained for her to take, before she reached the 
 goal, were made as firmly, and with as little 
 compunction, as if they led to heaven. Yet 
 never, even in those dark moments, when passion 
 worked so strongly within her as to suggest 
 the deepest horrors to her heart, had all that 
 was worst in her nature been so fearfully 
 awakened, or all that might redeem it so utter- 
 ly overpowered and stifled, as when she con- 
 ceived and executed the project upon which she 
 was now intent. 
 
 As if to atone for the want of firmness, with 
 which her journal shows she had hitherto so 
 frequently reproached herself, she now taxed 
 all the powers of her mind to the very utmost, 
 so to arrange and carry through the scheme she 
 meditated, as to place it beyond the power of 
 any human agent to defeat.
 
 166 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 Skilful, prescient, wary, and most full of art, 
 was every step she took to achieve it, and fear- 
 fully unshrinking, the stern courage with which 
 she watched the innocent being, whose destruc- 
 tion she had resolved, approach step by step, 
 and at length fall into the snare she had pre- 
 pared for her.
 
 167 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Thou dost wrong me, thou dissembler thou.*' 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 It may spare the reader some painful details 
 if a letter written by Catherine and her mother, 
 soon after the partial recovery of Lord Tre- 
 mordyn, and addressed to Miss Murray, be here 
 given, as it shows the result of all that had 
 passed as clearly as the most diffuse narrative 
 could do. 
 
 " Lausanne, August 26, 1831. 
 
 " It is exactly one month since I last wrote 
 to you, dearest Elizabeth, and in that letter I 
 opened to 3'ou the very centre of my heart, 
 at least I thought so ; and yet, what I told you 
 then, and what I have to tell you now, are so
 
 168 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 strongly at variance, that either my heart is 
 too fickle to be worth talking about ; or 
 else, poor silly bit of woman-kind as I am, 
 I really know nothing about what is passing 
 in it. 
 
 " Lord Tremordyn was the hero of my last 
 letter, Elizabeth, and so he will be of this. I 
 know I told you that mamma said he loved me, 
 and that though it was more than he ever 
 said himself, I thought so too ; but I think, I 
 added that, malheureusement^ I was not the 
 least bit in love with him in return, and that 
 as pretty a romance would be spoiled thereby, 
 as the shores of our romantic lake had ever 
 witnessed. For there was a most awfully mag- 
 nificent elder sister in the case, whose proud 
 eye flashed diamonds, while the breath of her 
 nostrils exhaled dignity. She trod as if the 
 dust under her feet should have been com- 
 posed of trampled coronets; and looked, as 
 if princes might have been proud to lackey 
 her. 
 
 " I thought then, that she interested me 
 more than he did — she was something so per-
 
 TREMORDYX CLTFF. 169 
 
 fectly new to me — yet I felt thankful, that spite 
 of all mamma could say, I was 7iot in love with 
 this imperial lady's brother, for how could poor 
 Kattie Maxwell believe that she would peace- 
 ably permit the coronet of her prodigious race 
 to be placed upon her humble brow ? But 
 some whimsical enchantment seems to have 
 been worked upon us all since that time. The 
 circumstances which now surround me appear 
 so strange and improbable, that I scarcely like 
 to write of them, lest my next letter should tell 
 you that all that was, is not. 
 
 " Lord Tremordyn has been very ill. You 
 must not expect me to be methodical, my 
 dear Elizabeth — indeed, I cannot — but I choose 
 you should know that our marriage is fixed, 
 settled, arranged, by Lady Augusta Delaporte 
 herself, and my dear mother. I hardly know 
 how it has all been brought about, and you will 
 laugh when I tell you that I positively cannot 
 remember that my consent has ever been dis- 
 tinctly asked by any body. It is true, that on 
 the evening on which it was all fixed. Lord Tre- 
 mordyn knelt— but it was rather to Lady Au- 
 
 VOL. I. I -
 
 170 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 gusta than to me. My dear mother's arms were 
 thrown round me, and I found my hand in his, 
 while Lady Augusta held them together in her 
 own. But Lord Tremordyn looked so very 
 happy, yet so pale and agitated that — laugh as 
 you will, cousin — I am contented to marry him, 
 notwithstanding their having all managed the 
 matter so much without me. You have some- 
 times reproached me, Elizabeth, for not being 
 Scotch enough — have abused my tongue for 
 losing its native accent — and even doubted if I 
 loved the lake of my namesake, so well as that 
 before our windows. But if you knew how 
 much the idea of living within easier reach of 
 the dear land of cakes was the fondest hope 
 that this fine marriage gives me, you would re- 
 proach me on this score no longer. Mamma says 
 she must have the envelope so adieu ! Write 
 to me very soon, and believe me ever your 
 loving cousin, friend, and countrywoman, 
 
 " Catherine Maxwell." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell wrote as follows —
 
 tremordyn cliff. 171 
 
 " My dear Niece, 
 " Catherine has informed you, in the letter 
 which I enclose, of the splendid prospects which 
 are opened before her ; but she is too young, 
 and too thoughtless, fully to understand the 
 peculiar circumstances under wliich her mar- 
 riage must take place. Let me explain them 
 to you, as briefly as I can. The Earl of Tre- 
 mordyn wants one year of being of age. His 
 elder sister, the Lady Augusta Delaporte, is 
 his sole guardian. His attachment to Cathe^ 
 rine is such as already to have endangered his 
 life, from the fear — perhaps justly entertained 
 — that this sister might not approve so early a 
 marriage, particularly as your cousin, notwith- 
 standing her good blood and great beauty, 
 might not, from her want of fortune, be con- 
 sidered as a proper match for him by the world. 
 " Lady Augusta has confessed to me, that 
 she did in fact oppose it strongly, considering 
 herself bound to do so, by the peculiar power 
 confided to her by her father's will. But it 
 became evident to her that her brother's health, 
 if not his life, depended upon his marriage with 
 
 I 2
 
 172 TPtEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 the object of his affection, and she has therefore 
 withdrawn this opposition. At first her consent 
 was given on condition that the marriage should 
 not be solemnized till he came of age, but per- 
 ceiving how deeply the thought of this delay 
 affected him, she came to me, and with the 
 most noble frankness told me all, declaring that 
 she put the happiness and the health of her 
 brother in my hands, for that it must depend 
 on me, whether I would consent to an imme- 
 diate, but secret marriage. She dares not, she 
 will not, commit herself to the world by openly 
 permitting this union before he is twenty-one. 
 But this secrecy is very disagreeable to me, and 
 I have tried every argument to dissuade her 
 from it, but in vain. I trust, therefore, that I 
 am not wrong in at last consenting to it. The 
 connexion is so every way desirable, the young 
 man himself so estimable, and his rank and 
 fortune so infinitely beyond all our hopes, that 
 I hardly feel at liberty to refuse my consent to 
 accept it for her on any terms. Of course, Eli- 
 zabeth, I cannot forget how wretchedly unpro- 
 vided for my poor Catherine would be, should
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 173 
 
 any thing happen to me. Had she the quarter 
 of your noble independence, 1 should have de- 
 cided differently ; but as it is, every thing con- 
 curs to induce me to do what, nevertheless, I 
 am far from approving ; but the chances are so 
 many against every thing remaining exactly in 
 the same state for a year ! In short, I have 
 agreed to let every thing be done in the manner 
 Lady Augusta proposes. We are all to travel 
 together as one party, during the next year, 
 setting off for Naples immediately after the 
 ceremony. Not a single servant is to be in the 
 secret; all the people they have about them, 
 indeed, are foreigners, and have been with them 
 but a short time. The English clergyman who 
 is to unite them will meet us at a chapel in 
 Geneva, and only know that he marries Theo- 
 dore Delaporte and Catherine Maxwell. We 
 shall return from Geneva to Lausanne on the 
 following day. Of course I shall be present at 
 the marriage, and take care that the certificate 
 shall be regular. I will not conceal from vou, 
 my dear Elizabeth, that this mystery is pain- 
 ful to me, but without it I feel very certain
 
 174 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 that your cousin would never be Countess of 
 Tremordyn. So you see, you must commu- 
 nicate her immediate marriage to no one ; 
 nevertheless, there can be no objection to its 
 being known that such an alliance is in con- 
 templation for her, or that we are travelling 
 through Italy in company with the earl and 
 his sister. I know more than one, and so do 
 you too, dear Elizabeth, who will feel both 
 mortification and envy at this, but this is no 
 reason for concealing it. You know Catherine 
 too, and will not be surprised that she should 
 refuse her consent to this arrangement unless 
 she might be permitted to make you acquainted 
 with it. I have agreed to this, and persuaded 
 Lady Augusta to do the same, because while 
 your brother is absent (and India is too distant 
 to make a written communication to him very 
 important) there is no one likely to hear from 
 you, a secret so confidentially imparted by me. 
 " I am, my dear Elizabeth, 
 
 " Your affectionate Aunt, 
 
 " E. Maxwell.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 175 
 
 " P.S. If you do write to the colonel, make 
 him understand how very brilliant this con- 
 nexion is — an earl with thirty thousand a 
 year. No consideration less important could 
 have obtained my consent to this disagreeable 
 though short concealment. And pray do not 
 forget to mention that Lady Augusta is to 
 travel with us." 
 
 The addition of a few words from Lady 
 Augusta's journal will make the events which 
 follow sufficiently clear, 
 
 " 29th August, 1831.~To-morrow the fair 
 but ephemeral being who for twenty years has 
 pushed me from my state, will be placed in a 
 situation that shall prevent him, during the 
 short remnant of his life, from disgracing a 
 
 race he was not born to perpetuate The 
 
 deceit I practise is forced upon me — I may 
 not shrink from it. The same unbridled velie- 
 mence of passion which has brought him to the 
 verge of the grave, would, it is easy to foresee, 
 lead him to sacrifice me, and the glory of my
 
 176 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 house, even in the short interval that may in- 
 tervene before he drops into it Shall I 
 
 foresee this profanation, and not prevent it ? 
 
 " Why have I lived the thrall of artifice ? 
 why for no single day has my spirit breathed 
 with light and happy freedom ? why has my 
 doom through the sweet days of youth been 
 ever that of caution, watchfulness, and care? 
 Only that I might safely lead this self-willed 
 boy ; and now he has thrown off my rule, and 
 set at nought my will. A stranger to his 
 blood — a lowly, unknown stranger — is dearer 
 to him than himself, than me, than the sacred 
 pledge his ancestors have left him of a name 
 untarnished through its long descent by any 
 single alliance not distinguished by nobility. 
 The question now before me is a simple one — 
 Shall Kate Maxwell (such is her name and 
 title) wear the Tremordyn coronet ? — or shall 
 I ? .... Is there a heart that wells forth noble 
 blood to nourish life, that could decide against 
 me .^ . . . . For you — low, selfish, plotting mo- 
 ther—think you to baffle me ? You shall live 
 to mourn the attempt. I have tampered with
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 177 
 
 no mortal drugs — but I must be quit of you 
 for some few hours. 
 
 " To-morrow, then, thy wishes shall be 
 crowned, poor dying boy. Yet I will not be 
 made the sacrifice."" 
 
 3fP ^P ^> ^ Tp 
 
 The day preceding the one fixed for the 
 marriage was passed by Mrs. Maxwell and 
 Catherine at the house of Lady Augusta. It 
 was her particular request that so it should be, 
 and her carriage went for, and returned with 
 them. It was a day of agitation to all the 
 parties, but to one among them it seemed made 
 up of the gold and purple light that beams 
 upon the gates of paradise. Lord Tremordyn 
 was conscious of no failing health — no thought 
 of possible sorrow either to himself or his be- 
 loved, threw its shadow over the future ; but 
 when he looked at Catherine, when he listened 
 to the rich warblings of her delicious voice, 
 as she sung his favourite airs, and remem- 
 bered that she was his own — that the morrow 
 would see her his wife — the happiness that 
 swelled his heart was almost too mighty for 
 
 I 5
 
 178 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 liim. The tears, however, that relieved this 
 overwhelming emotion, were, as he softly whis- 
 pered to her, well worth all the smiles his past 
 life had given him. 
 
 The feelings of the fair girl herself, it would 
 be less easy to define. She was not sorrowftd — 
 yet neither was she glad. She withdrew not 
 her hand when her lover seized it — her eyes re- 
 fused not to meet his when they sought to 
 speak his ardent love — it was with no reluctance 
 that she consented again and again, through the 
 hours of that day, to let her sweet voice breathe 
 for him whatever airs, whatever words he 
 asked for — and yet, no throbbing pulse re- 
 sponded to his— no glow either of triumph or 
 of happiness deepened the delicate colour of her 
 cheek, or disturbed the tranquil current of her 
 blood. In truth, poor Catherine was still a 
 child. It was with a child's docility that she 
 had implicitly conformed to her mother's wishes, 
 and with a child's gentleness she received the 
 ardent love of the man who had nearly died for 
 her. She knew not, slie guessed not, that 
 deeper, stronger feelings lay still dormant in
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 179 
 
 her heart, and when she thought of the vow she 
 was to make on the morrow, neither her con- 
 science nor her inclination revolted from it. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell's mind was about equall}- 
 divided between triumph at her child's ap- 
 proaching greatness, and a sort of shapeless, 
 restless anxiety respecting the manner in which 
 it was to be bestowed on her. One moment an 
 involuntary smile lit up her still handsome face, 
 as she thought that in less than twenty-four 
 hours, her Kattie would be a countess, and the 
 next her eyes were fixed upon the floor, while 
 she meditated in no pleasing vein, on the hap- 
 piness lost by having such an event celebrated, 
 not only in private, but in secret. 
 
 Lady Augusta, throughout the whole of this 
 trying day, proved herself a most accomplished 
 actress. Never for a moment did she forget 
 her part — never for a moment overlook the 
 slightest circumstance which might influence 
 the business she was about. To her brother 
 her manner was tender and devoted ; to Cathe- 
 rine, caressing and kind ; and she treated Mrs. 
 Maxwell on every occasion with such flattering
 
 180 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 distinction, that when she persuaded her to 
 share something which had been specially pro- 
 vided for her own supper at night, it created no 
 surprise ; nor even, when she insisted upon her- 
 self adding the wine and sugar that was to 
 render it palateable, did it appear any thing 
 beyond a continuation of the same assiduous 
 kindness, which had marked her manners during 
 the whole day. The hour of separation at 
 length arrived, and had not Lady Augusta 
 complained of tooth-ache, which threatened to 
 trouble her during the night, nothing would 
 have obscured the bright hope with which they 
 parted — but this, though tenderly regretted by 
 Lord Tremordyn, was not an evil sufficiently 
 serious to check the joy with which he uttered, 
 as he placed his affianced bride in the carriage, 
 " Adieu for the last time, my love ! To-mor- 
 row we meet, to part no more."
 
 TBEMORDYN CLIFF. 181 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " How shall our thought avoid the vinous snare V 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The day that was to make Lord Tremordyn 
 happy did not rise brightly. But though the 
 sun, if he had chanced to shine, might have 
 been greeted as joy's harbinger, his dimness 
 did not damp the alacrity with which the youth- 
 ful bridegroom presented himself at his sister's 
 door, and informed her that the carriage was 
 waiting. 
 
 Lady Augusta did not detain him long, 
 but when she appeared he was shocked at hear- 
 ing how much she had suffered from the pain 
 of her teeth during the night. She spoke 
 cheerfully, however, and assured him that she
 
 182 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 was now greatly easier ; but he applauded the 
 caution which had led her to wrap her face in 
 mufflers well calculated to preserve her from 
 the air. She assured him that with this pre- 
 caution, and by wearing in addition a thick 
 veil, she should run no risk whatever of in- 
 creasing the malady by cold, adding affec- 
 tionately — ^' Could I forsake you at such a 
 moment as this, dear Theodore ?'' 
 
 He kissed her hand, led her down stairs, and 
 they set out for Mrs. Maxwell's. 
 
 On arriving there a dreadful disappointment 
 awaited Lord Tremordyn. Catherine received 
 them with tears in her beautiful eyes, and witli- 
 out showing any marks of preparation for the 
 intended excursion. 
 
 " Merciful heaven ! wliat has happened, my 
 sweet love.''" exclaimed Lord Tremordyn; 
 '• you weep, Catherine .... You are not 
 ready ..." 
 
 Catherine dashed the tears from her eyes, and 
 with a smile that brought the colour back to 
 his cheekj assured him that she believed there 
 was no longer any cause for alarm, adding,
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 183 
 
 however, that her mother had been very dan- 
 gerously ill during the night, and was still, she 
 feared, quite unable to leave her bed. But if 
 Lady Augusta will come with me," she said, 
 affectionately sliding her arm within that of 
 her ladyship, " she will be better able to judge 
 than I am." 
 
 Lady Augusta suffered herself to be led to 
 the chamber of the invalid, and was probably 
 not much surprised at the state in which she 
 found her. 
 
 " Be not alarmed, dear Catherine," she said 
 kindly, while assiduously feeling the pulse of 
 the invalid, '' the complaint, I trust, has left 
 lier ; there is, I assure you, no fever, nor any 
 other symptom that can justify your frightening 
 yourself." Lady Augusta then related her 
 own sufferings of the night, adding with a 
 smile — " Did any one ever see such a costume 
 for a bridesmaid ? But I really could not ven- 
 ture out without being thus wrapped up, and 
 as for delay, I think I would rather have had 
 all my teeth pulled out at once, than pro- 
 pose it."
 
 184 TREMOEDYN CLIFF. 
 
 " What can I do, dearest Lady Augusta?" 
 said poor Mrs. Maxwell, speaking from between 
 the curtains of her bed ; " I feel so weak, so 
 giddy, that I much doubt if I could bear the 
 drive.*" 
 
 "I trust, dear madam, that you are mistaken," 
 replied her ladyship ; " I really dare not tell 
 Theodore that the marriage cannot take place. 
 He knows that the clergyman leaves Geneva 
 to-morrow, and that there is no one else to 
 whom we can apply. For God's sake, dear 
 Mrs. Maxwell, endeavour to get up." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell obeyed ; but the first attempt 
 convinced her daughter that the experiment 
 would not succeed. Her head swam, her limbs 
 trembled, and in fact she was perfectly unable 
 to stand. 
 
 " Do not think of it, dearest mamma !" said 
 Catherine, tenderly assisting her to replace her- 
 self upon the pillow. " Lord Tremordyn is too 
 good, too kind, to wish that you should run any 
 risk. I am very sure of this." 
 
 " Catherine ! you must announce this to him 
 yourself/' said Lady Augusta, her hands clasped,
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 185 
 
 and speaking in an accent of great alarm. "Yet 
 it is perhaps for the best," she added, after the 
 pause of a moment. " It is perhaps best that 
 it shoidd be so. He will now, my dear 
 friends, find himself obliged to do what I 
 have so earnestly advised. I cannot, for many 
 reasons, again undertake the ticklish business 
 I have gone through with this young clergy- 
 man. Theodore must now wait till he is of 
 age. It is a thousand times better that it 
 should be so ; and now, that the delay proceeds 
 not from the authority of his guardian, he 
 will bear it better — and I," she continued, al- 
 most in a whisper, " shall no longer run the risk 
 of the misery I most dread. — I shall not be re- 
 proached for weakness, in the performance of a 
 duty that demanded strength." 
 
 These last words were uttered quite aloud, 
 and with so much of her own natural dignity, 
 that their sincerity shot like a bolt of ice through 
 the heart of the terrified mother. Her mind's 
 eye seemed to see a jewelled coronet rising from 
 off the brow of her daughter, and gradually 
 withdrawing itself, till it was lost in the clouds.
 
 186 
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 " Lady Augusta !'' she exclaimed, again 
 raising herself in her bed. " How will your 
 brother bear it ? . . . Pray let me see him. 
 Let me see Lord Tremordyn, Catherine. He 
 will not think it strange if I ask him to enter 
 the chamber of one who will so soon be his 
 mother." 
 
 " You shall see him, my dear Mrs. Max- 
 well," said Lady Augusta ; " I will myself send 
 him to you, and you shall settle every thing as 
 you wish it to be yourselves — I will not even 
 be present; for having once yielded, I would 
 not willingly be tempted to retract. But do 
 nothing rashly, and remember in how short a 
 time the year runs round." So saying, she 
 quitted the room, pretty certain that the advice 
 she had given would be as well followed, as she 
 desired. 
 
 The event did honour to her sagacity. After 
 remaining about ten minutes in Mrs. Maxwell's 
 room. Lord Tremordyn hurried back to the 
 parlour, with the hand of the blushing Catherine 
 clasped in his. This short, but important in- 
 terview had decided her fate.
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 187 
 
 : "Augusta! dearest Augusta!" said the 
 young man passionately addressing her, " con- 
 sent to accompany us, at once, to Geneva. It 
 is evident that Mrs. Maxwell cannot undertake 
 the expedition. But what need is there that she 
 should do so ? She has promised to take care of 
 herself, and to be well at our return."' 
 
 " Do with me as you v/ill, Theodore — never 
 again will I oppose you.'' 
 
 Lord Tremordyn's rapturous gratitude was 
 at this moment hardly less vehement than when 
 he first obtained her consent to the marriage — 
 but she stopped the demonstration of it by say- 
 ing, " If, my dear brother, your heart is indeed 
 so bent upon not postponing this nervous busi- 
 ness, we must delay no longer, or the clergy- 
 man will be weary of waiting for us, and we 
 may miss him altogether/' 
 
 This hint was enough — hardly would he suf- 
 fer his young bride to embrace her mother, ere 
 he again hurried her from the room. 
 
 Forgetting every thing like etiquette in the 
 agitating impatience of the moment, he sprung 
 into the carriage after Catherine, before his sister
 
 188 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 had left the hall, where she loitered for a mo- 
 ment to look for her parasol. This moment 
 was an important one. Just as she reached 
 the door, Mrs. Maxwell's maid came running 
 towards it, with a message from her mistress, 
 desiring to speak one word to Miss Catherine 
 alone, before she set off upon her excursion. 
 
 *■' Tell your mistress,*" replied Lady Augus- 
 ta, " that Miss Catherine shall come to her as 
 soon as possible, but that now, we have not a 
 moment to lose." 
 
 The obsequious abigail curtsied respectfully, 
 and retired. 
 
 The one word Mrs. Maxwell desired to speak, 
 was an injunction to her thoughtless and inno- 
 cent daughter to take charge herself of the 
 certificate the clergyman would give after the 
 ceremony, and to bring it to her without fail. 
 
 When half way to Geneva, Lady Augusta 
 stopped at a post-house, and leaving her horses 
 and servants there, continued her route with 
 post-horses. This last portion of the distance 
 was traversed at full speed, and by this means, 
 the time lost at Mrs. Maxwell's was so far rcco-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 189 
 
 vered, as to permit their leaving the carriage at 
 an hotel, and quietly walking to the chapel ap- 
 pointed for their meeting with the English 
 clergyman, just as, watch in hand, he was com- 
 ing out of its little vestry, followed by a young 
 English lad who officiated as his clerk, but who, 
 having now given up the golden hope of a 
 wedding fee, was eager to return to the shop of 
 the horloger for whom he worked. 
 
 Neither the clergyman nor his attendant had 
 ever before seen either Lord Tremordyn or 
 Miss Maxwell ; and when Lady Augusta vi- 
 sited Geneva to arrange the present meeting, 
 she had dressed herself in the deep mourning 
 worn for her father, with a cap so arranged, 
 as to give her the appearance of a widow, the 
 thick folds of whose veil effectually defied an}^ 
 curiosity which her errand might have excited. 
 She now appeared dressed completely in 
 white, and with her head, as already described, 
 so enveloped in wrappers, as equally to elude 
 whatever eye might seek to make acquaint- 
 ance with her features. 
 
 The trio being thus completely unknown, ap-
 
 190 TRKMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 proached close to the building without attract- 
 ing the attention of either of the functionaries 
 who were quitting it; but as they were turning 
 the angle at which the chapel stood, Lady Au- 
 gusta laid her hand upon the clergyman's arm, 
 and said in a low voice, " I fear we have kept 
 you waiting, sir." 
 
 The young man started, looked at the youth- 
 ful couple — bowed, — and without speaking, mo- 
 tioned his attendant to re-open the door he had 
 just locked. This done, the M'hole party en- 
 tered, and almost without a preliminary word 
 being spoken, the important business of the 
 hour was performed. 
 
 The clerk acted as father to the bride, and, 
 at the request of Lord Tremordyn, signed his 
 name to the certificate as witness to the mar- 
 riage. 
 
 Lady Augusta also subscribed hers, and 
 Lord Tremordyn held out his hand to the 
 clergyman, for the document which testified 
 that Catherine Maxwell was his wedded wife. 
 
 At this moment Lady Augusta, turning 
 towards him, said in an accent of tender re-
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 191 
 
 proach, " Theodore ! will you not pre- 
 sent your wife to me ?'" These delightful words, 
 pronounced too by his sister Augusta, and in 
 such a manner, seemed to thrill to his very 
 lieart, and taking the hand of his blushing Ca- 
 therine, he joined it to that of this dear sister, 
 with a look so full of joy and thankfulness, that 
 a smile, tender as he could himself have wished, 
 chased the tears which, till that moment, had 
 dimmed the eyes of his bride. 
 
 Lady Augusta appeared deeply moved ; she 
 embraced them both, and thinking, or seeming 
 to think that Catherine trembled, she led her 
 towards a chair, saying in an accent of much 
 alarm — '' You are ill, my love ! " 
 
 Lord Tremordyn's arms were instantly thrown 
 round her. 
 
 ** Compose 3^ourself, dearest angel ! " he ex- 
 claimed as he placed her on a seat, and turned 
 to open a window near it, when his sister recall- 
 ed him by saying, 
 
 " Support her head, Theodore — there is wa- 
 ter on that table — support her while I get it, 
 Theodore."
 
 192 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 It was in vain that Catherine stammered an 
 assurance that she needed not support, the 
 office was too dear to be declined, and while 
 he fondly placed her head upon his breast, 
 Lady Augusta crossed the room, filled a glass 
 with water, and at the same moment received 
 the certificate from the clergyman, and secured 
 it in her bosom. 
 
 The glass that was offered to the lips of the 
 bride was not unwelcome. Agitated she cer- 
 tainly was, and the hand that received it, trem- 
 bled as she withdrew it from the fond grasp of 
 her husband. 
 
 " She cannot walk to the hotel, Theodore,"' 
 said Lady Augusta, in a tone of much anxiety — 
 '' and there is no carriage ordered — Good hea- 
 vens ! what can be done ? " 
 
 " I will fly for a carriage this instant," ex- 
 claimed the young man, too much agitated by 
 alarm and love to listen to the assurances of 
 Catherine, that she was " well, perfectly well, 
 quite able to walk."' 
 
 " No, no ! it must not be thought of/' he 
 cried, and seizing his hat he was out of sight in 
 a moment.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 193 
 
 When he was gone, however, the ladies both 
 of them became sufficiently calm to understand 
 each other ; Lady Augusta, after apologizing to 
 the clergyman for thus long detaining him, 
 paid him the magnificent fee, w^hich was to en- 
 sure silence from his well-known profligate po- 
 verty ; and, when this necessary part of the ce- 
 remony was concluded, proposed to Catherine, 
 that they should walk gently forward together 
 towards the hotel. Catherine gladly assented 
 to this proposal as the necessity of playing the 
 part of an invalid was by no means agreea- 
 ble, and they reached the hotel, which was at 
 no great distance, just as Lord Tremordyn 
 had succeeded in having a carriage made ready 
 to leave it. 
 
 Delighted to see her so perfectly restored, 
 yet half inclined to scold her for imprudence, 
 the happy, but agitated, young man hurried his 
 " countess," as he whisperingly called her, to a 
 saloon where refreshments had been prepared, 
 and there, seated between his sister and his wife, 
 he declared his happiness 'to be so perfect that 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 THEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 he believed it beyond the power of fate or for- 
 tune to augment it. 
 
 " May Heaven in its mercy preserve it to me ! '' 
 he fervently ejaculated, " and make me, if it 
 be possible, deserving of such a wife, and such 
 a sister ! " 
 
 For one short half hour Lady Augusta sub- 
 mitted to witness her brother's ecstasies — she 
 even heard him address the obscure little girl 
 by his side as " Countess of Tremordyn;" and 
 if she sickened at the sound, and turned her 
 eyes from looking upon what was too hateful 
 to them, it was done in such a sort as might 
 well escape the observation of one so pre-occu- 
 pied as Lord Tremordyn, or so timid and em- 
 barrassed as his bride. But this half hour 
 past, her task was done — or at least a change 
 came over it, and another scene became the wit- 
 ness of her machinations. 
 
 After sitting silent and sad for some moments, 
 though it is possible this was hardly perceived 
 by her companions, Lady Augusta rose from 
 the^ table, and addressing herself to Catherine,
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 195 
 
 said, " I have this day, my love, given so 
 strong a proof of my devoted attachment to my 
 dear brother here, that it is hardly necessary to 
 give you any farther assurance of it — and yet, 
 Catherine, I must now put your confidence in 
 it, and his too, to a strong proof."" 
 
 "What can you mean, sister Augusta?" ex- 
 claimed Lord Tremordyn, looking alarmed. 
 
 " I mean, my dearest Theodore,'' she replied, 
 " that I am compelled to leave you." 
 
 " Leave us, Augusta ? compelled to 
 
 leave us who, or what can compel you to 
 
 such a step ? " 
 
 " Nay, my dear brother," she replied, as- 
 suming an air of cheerfulness, " you testify 
 more dismay than the occasion calls for — our 
 separation will not, I trust, exceed a few weeks. 
 I do indeed regret the losing sight of a happi- 
 ness which I know has been my work — but at 
 the same time, I ought to, and I do rejoice, that 
 being obliged as I am, to hasten immediately 
 to London, I am spared the necessity of either 
 seeing you take a long, fatiguing, and useless 
 journey, or of leaving you alone. Your wife, 
 
 k2
 
 196 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 
 
 dearest Theodore, must now supply the place of 
 your sister— and ere long I hope to rejoin you/"* 
 Lord Tremordynfelt — and said— that in truth 
 he should be most ungrateful to complain, and 
 and that if they must part — for the first time 
 in their lives — the present moment was certainly 
 that in which he could best endure it. 
 
 " But when is this unpleasant journey to 
 take place, Augusta? and what is the neces- 
 sity for it .?— When did this hateful summons 
 reach you ? Is it about that odious law- 
 suit ? '' 
 
 To this long string of questions Lady Au- 
 gusta replied by saying, " You guess rightly 
 as to the cause, Theodore, but this is no mo- 
 ment to torment you with details, or with 
 lawyers' paradoxes. All will go right at last, 
 I have very little doubt. But promise me not 
 to torment poor Catherine with one word about 
 it. You know my father always called this law- 
 suit mine — should I succeed, my joy would now 
 be doubled ; but if I fail, never let her know 
 what I have attempted to achieve. Will you 
 promise this.?"
 
 TREMOIIDYX CLIFF. 197 
 
 " Most willingly, dear Augusta, and faith- 
 fully keep the promise too, though I shall have 
 little merit in it ; for excepting as it interests 
 you, I care very little about the matter — a song 
 from Catherine would make me forget the whole 
 concern in a moment." 
 
 " This is as I would have it — it will prevent 
 all disappointment if I fail — and yet, Theodore, 
 it will not lessen the pleasure of success — espe- 
 cially when you have one so dear to share it 
 with you." 
 
 This allusion again turned the eyes of Lord 
 Tremordyn towards his bride, and again he 
 seemed likely to forget every thing but herself. 
 Catherine, however, was less abstracted, and 
 said, anxiously, " What then is your plan. Lady 
 Augusta ? When and how do you go, dearest sis- 
 ter?" 
 
 Lady Augusta started, winced, and shrunk 
 from her, as this new sound smote upon her ear. 
 It was the first time the timid lips of Catherine 
 had uttered it, and had the cruel and perverted 
 beinor she addressed wanted a stimulant to uro-e
 
 198 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 her forward on the hateful work she was about, 
 that word would have furnished it. 
 
 With ready art, however, Lady Augusta im^ 
 mediately smiled away the effect of her evident 
 emotion. 
 
 " I hate to think of the journey," she said, as 
 if the visible shudder had belonged to the idea 
 of it. " But once en route, my courage will 
 return. I must set off directly for Paris; I 
 have already ordered post horses, and even a 
 carriage, that will do excellently well for the 
 journey." .... 
 
 " No, Augusta, no," said her brother with af- 
 fectionate earnestness. " You never yet travelled 
 in a hired vehicle, nor shall you now. Say I not 
 well, dear love ? *" he continued, addressing his 
 wife. " Before we leave Geneva, to-morrow," 
 he added, " I doubt not I may be able to pur- 
 chase some English carriage that may suit us. 
 But be that as it may, we will run the risk — 
 shall we not ?^' 
 
 Catherine eagerly seconded this arrangement, 
 to which Lady Augusta acceded, after making
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF, 199 
 
 just enough fuss about it to fix their attention 
 upon the point, and thereby withdraw it from 
 dU that was more important. 
 
 In reply, however, to a fresh exclamation of 
 astonishment from Lord Tremordyn at this un- 
 expected measure. Lady Augusta gravely said, 
 '• You owe me much, dear Theodore, for the con- 
 cealment of its necessity. The letter which re- 
 called me, arrived several days ago, but I knew 
 how much any alteration in your arrangements 
 would cost you, and determined to keep the evil 
 tidings to myself till I saw you happy enough 
 to endure them."" 
 
 *' How like is that to the guardian sister to 
 whom I have owed all the happiness of my life! '"* 
 exclaimed Lord Tremordyn with enthusiasm — 
 " such tender care, shall not be repaid by re- 
 pinings." 
 
 The trunks of Lady Augusta had already 
 been some days at Geneva, having been convey- 
 ed thither when she made her solitary excur- 
 sion to settle the preliminaries of the marriage. 
 They were now speedily arranged in their own 
 places in and about her carriage, and before
 
 200 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 surprise had subsided into any thing like quiet 
 and reasonable explanation as to the past, pre- 
 sent, or future, Lady Augusta was approaching 
 Paris as fast as four horses could take her, and 
 the youthful pair remained to recover, as well as 
 they could, from that sort of ttourdissement 
 into which this event had thrown them. 
 
 It was not, however, till their return on the 
 following day to the house of Mrs. Maxwell, 
 that Lord Tremordyn had appeared to be fully 
 awakened to the sober certainty of the fact that 
 the sister, without whose watchful care he had 
 hitherto scarcely past an hour of his life, had 
 left him for a long and distant journey, and that 
 he had himself become a member of a family, of 
 whose existence he was ignorant a few short 
 months before. 
 
 Strong and violent as was the transition from 
 one manner of life to the other, Lord Tremor- 
 dyn was in no humour to lament it, and having 
 to announce his sister's departure, in no degree 
 lessened the feeling of ardent, overflowing hap- 
 piness, with which he placed his lovely countess 
 in the arms of her mother, and kneeling at her
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 201 
 
 feet, besought her maternal blessing on them 
 both. 
 
 "Mrs. Maxwell, though still feeling the ef- 
 fects of her indisposition, received them in her 
 drawing-room, and welcomed her titled daugh- 
 ter with a delight little short of that with which 
 her husband presented her. 
 
 It was not till these first rapturous moments 
 were over, that I^ady Augusta was even remem- 
 bered, and it was Mrs. Maxwell who first refer- 
 red to her absence. 
 
 " And where is Lady Augusta?" said she, 
 as if wishing to have at least one witness to the 
 happy pride she was obliged for the present to 
 conceal from all others. 
 
 '' Alas ! dearest mother," replied Lord Tre- 
 mordyn, " I must now tell you of the only 
 drawback to my perfect felicity, and I know 
 you will lament with me . . . . " 
 
 ''Good heavens !"" interrupted Mrs. Max- 
 well, eagerly, " I trust that Lady Augusta is 
 not ill.?" 
 
 " Not ill — but absent ; and were it not for 
 you and my dear Catherine, I should feel quite 
 desolate." K 5
 
 202 TREMOIIDYN CLIFF. 
 
 '^ Absent !" repeated Mrs. Maxwell in the 
 accent of a person in some degree offended — is 
 she gone liome, my lord ? .... I am sorry she 
 should choose to absent herself at such a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " Indeed, it is no matter of choice," replied 
 Lord Tremordyn — " is it Catherine ? Tell your 
 mother, dearest, all she said — that at least, while 
 we lament her departure, we may all do justice 
 to her motives— are they not most kind, my 
 love ? " 
 
 *' Surely they must be so, she expressed so 
 much sorrow fov the necessity," replied Ca- 
 therine readily, yet at the same moment feel- 
 ing rather at a loss how to obey the wishes of 
 her husband, by repeating all she had said, for, 
 in truth, Catherine by no means understood 
 very clearly why she was gone. 
 
 " What is the necessity, Catherine ? " eagerly 
 questioned Mrs. Maxwell, *'and where is Lady 
 Augusta ? She is not gone farther than her own 
 house, I imagine ? " 
 
 " I wish v.'e could say so, dearest mother," 
 replied Lord Tremordyn, " but business of the
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 203 
 
 most important nature has obliged Lady Au- 
 gusta, most cruelly against her inclination, to 
 set off from Geneva to Paris on her road to 
 London." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell looked panic-struck. She did 
 not immediately reply, but her whole face was 
 dyed with crimson. 
 
 Catherine knew that with her mother this was 
 a symptom of violent and painful emotion, and 
 longing to be alone with her, that she might 
 soothe the pride which she presumed to be the 
 feeling wounded by this event, she turned to 
 Lord TremordyUj with one of her omnipotent 
 smiles, and said, " If you wish me to be truly 
 eloquent upon the reasons of your sister's de- 
 sertion, my lord, you must allow me ^ttte-a-ttte 
 with mamma. I know she is longing to ask me 
 a hundred questions, which she will not think it 
 civil to ask before you." 
 
 " Be it so, dearest — I will leave her cause in 
 your hands, and will wander for half an hour 
 beside your beautiful lake — but," he added ten- 
 derly, " though it looks ten times lovelier than 
 ever, it will not suffice to console me for being 
 banished beyond that time."
 
 204 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 Catherine little guessed how burning was the 
 desire her mother felt to ask the " hundred 
 questions" she had mentioned so lightly, — 
 and still less was she prepared to witness the 
 agitation, amounting almost to agony, with 
 which they were put to her. 
 
 The instant Lord Tremordyn closed die door, 
 Mrs. Maxwell rose from her seat, and taking 
 her daughter's hands in hers, exclaimed in a 
 voice husky and dry from emotion, " Cathe- 
 rine, where is the certificate of your marriage ? 
 
 ••'The certificate, mamma?" 
 
 " Yes, child, the certificate. Did not the 
 clergyman give a certificate ? " 
 
 " O yes, mamma, to be sure he did ; you 
 mean the paper that every body signed ? " 
 
 " Yes, dearest," replied Mrs. Maxwell, great- 
 ly relieved, and drawing a deep breath. 
 " Give it to me, my Catherine." 
 
 " Me, mamma ? He did not give it to me."" 
 
 " To Lord Tremordyn, then ? — Lord Tre- 
 mordyn has got it, has he not ?" 
 
 '* I don'^tknow, mamma, I am sure — very like- 
 ly — but they said nothing to me about it. A
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 205 
 
 think it was Lady Augusta who took it from 
 the clergyman, but if Tremordyn ought to have 
 it, I dare say she gave it to him/' 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell relapsed into great anxiety. 
 Every moment suggested new reasons for the 
 dreadful doubts that had seized upon her. A 
 multitude of little circumstances recurred to her 
 memory, all of which had seemed light as air 
 before, but now they were all heavy with mean- 
 ing. 
 
 " Catherine, I must have that paper instantly 
 — send Susan — or go yourself, my love, to find 
 him — I see him Catherine, not a hundred yards 
 off — stay, dear girl — I will follow him myself." 
 
 She hastily wrapped a shawl round her, and 
 ran out of the house, leaving Catherine so 
 completely astonished at her agitation, and so to- 
 tally unable to comprehend its cause, that she 
 remained at the window anxiously watching 
 their meeting, yet fearing to follow lest she 
 might embarrass by her presence a business 
 she could in no way comprehend. That trea- 
 chery, baseness of the lowest, vilest kind, could 
 be practised by Lady Augusta against the bro-
 
 206 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 ther she professed almost to worship, was an 
 idea that could find no entrance to her imagina- 
 tion ; and if any distinct notion could be said to 
 enter a mind so greatly puzzled, it was that 
 there might be some duty, of mere legal rou- 
 tine, which it lay with her mother to perform 
 respecting this paper, and which, as her ab- 
 sence from the ceremony had prevented her 
 from executing it, she was now anxious to set 
 right. 
 
 Had Catherine conceived any fears at all 
 analogous to those which tortured her mother, 
 Lord Tremordyn's manner, as she watched him 
 from the window, would have instantly re-as- 
 sured her; for it was evident that whatever 
 Mrs. Maxwell said produced no very painful 
 effect. He immediately drew her arm within 
 his, and appeared to be leading her towards 
 the house ; but, as if wishing to prolong the 
 conversation, Mrs. Maxwell resisted this, and 
 for some minutes continued to walk with him 
 under the shelter of a row of trees which grew 
 between their house and the lake. 
 
 In reply to her perturbed inquiry for the cer-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 207 
 
 tificate, he narrated the circumstance by which 
 he had been prevented from receiving it, ex- 
 actly as it had happened, only stating (what 
 most assuredly he believed) that Catherine was 
 fainting^ whereas the real truth would have been, 
 that Lady Augusta said she was fainting. This 
 well accounted for his having himself neglected 
 to take it ; and for the forgetfulness which pre- 
 vented his inquiring for it afterwards, the hurry 
 and emotion occasioned by Lady Augusta's un- 
 expected departure, was a very sufficient excuse. 
 He promised, however, that the document should 
 be obtained from his sister with the least possi- 
 ble delay, and immediately deposited in the 
 hands of Mrs. Maxwell. 
 
 Catherine, who continued anxiously to watch 
 their movements from the window, perceived 
 that Lord Tremordyn was the person who spoke 
 most, and that her mother, as she hung upon 
 his arm, was looking at, and listening to, him 
 with the deepest attention. After an interval 
 that appeared to the deserted bride much longer 
 than it really was, they turned their steps to- 
 wards the house, and as they approached it, she
 
 208 TliEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 saw with much sorrow, and some alarm, that 
 her mother had been weeping; but it was evi- 
 dent that whatever had been the source of her 
 painful emotion. Lord Tremordyn did not sym- 
 pathize in it, for he looked gaily up towards tlie 
 window, kissed his hand, and beckoned her to 
 join them. She did so instantly, and found her 
 mother more tranquil, at least in appearance, 
 but with an air that hardly looked like the per- 
 fect happiness poor Catherine hoped her mar- 
 riao^e would have brouo-ht her. 
 
 They continued to walk together under the 
 trees for some time after she had joined them — 
 Lord Tremordyn with an arm of each within 
 his own, and speaking to both in an accent of 
 such ti'ue affection, such happy hope, such un 
 shrinking confidence in the future, that it was 
 impossible to listen without catching some por- 
 tion of the delightful feelings which animated 
 him. 
 
 Even Mrs. Maxwell, frightful as were the 
 ideas that the strange absence of Lady Augusta 
 suggested, seemed to consent, that for awhile 
 they should be forgotten, and at least felt, be-
 
 TEEMORDYN CLIFF. 209 
 
 yond the possibility of doubt, that the young 
 and noble hysband of her daughter was himself 
 as excellent and as deserving of all trust, as love, 
 honour, and generosity could make him. 
 
 In fact, though he had not perfectly succeeded 
 in making Mrs. Maxwell perceive that her sus- 
 picions were not only groundless, but totally, 
 and of necessity, impossible to be true, he cer- 
 tainly made her feel that the misgivings she 
 expressed were most unworthy (to say the least 
 of them) of the high character Lady Augusta 
 held, and ever had held in the world, as well 
 as in his own estimation and that of his fa- 
 ther, who had not scrupled, as he justly re- 
 marked, to leave him, during his non-age, com- 
 pletely in her power. 
 
 " In truth, my dear Mrs. Maxwell,"" con- 
 tinued he, " I have never before given so con- 
 vincing a proof of my devotion, both to my 
 dear wife and her mother, as I have done dur- 
 ing this conversation. AVho else could have so 
 spoken without exciting my anger and indigna- 
 tion ? but she, and you too, are privileged — 
 say what you will, I cannot be angry — but for
 
 210 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 God's sake think nothing that shall make you 
 unhappy. 
 
 It was difficult after this to persist in ex- 
 pressing such injurious suspicions, and remem- 
 bering that it would, within the space of one 
 year, be in the power of Lord Tremordyn to 
 legalize the marriage despite of all his sister 
 could do to prevent it, the anxious mother per- 
 mitted that happiness to return amongst them, 
 which Lady Augusta's ill-timed absence had 
 disturbed, and as she watched Lord Tremor- 
 dyn's devoted tenderness to his wife, and heard 
 him proudly address her as his " countess," and 
 his charming " Lady Tremordyn," she felt well 
 disposed to triumph again in the noble alliance, 
 and to set Lady Augusta and all her suspected 
 treachery at defiance.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 211 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " We are sorry for ourselves in thee." — Shakspeare. 
 
 After recovering from the first shock, which 
 hearing of this unexpected separation gave her, 
 Mrs. Maxwell was not perhaps unconscious of 
 something like a sensation of relief from the 
 absence of Lady Augusta. Even in her most 
 gracious moments there had been something in 
 the manners of this proud woman, which pre- 
 vented Mrs. Maxwell from feeling perfectly at 
 ease with her, and the evening which succeed- 
 ed the return of the young couple was pro- 
 bably more agreeably spent, than if the indi- 
 vidual whose absence had been so vehemently 
 deplored had continued one of the party.
 
 212 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 A multitude of delightful plans were formed 
 for the future, in which each of the trio seem- 
 ed to take an equal interest, and which all an- 
 ticipated Avith equal pleasure and equal confi- 
 dence. 
 
 According to previous arrangement, Mrs. 
 Maxwell and her daughter were to return that 
 night to Lady Augusta's villa, whence the whole 
 party were to set off on their projected tour on 
 the morrow. The absence of Lady Augusta 
 rendered it necessary to change this plan, and 
 Lord Tremordyn returned to the villa alone ; 
 but early on the following morning he was 
 again at Mrs. Maxwell's, and shortly after, 
 the trio set off, without any attendants, for Mi- 
 lan. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell was by no means insensible to 
 the inconvenience, not to say indecorum, of this 
 mode of travelling ; but as she herself exclaim- 
 ed in a soliloquy of no pleasing kind, " What 
 could she do ? " 
 
 In truth — and it was a melancholy truth — 
 she could now do nothing. The imprudent 
 measure to which interest and ambition had led
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 213 
 
 her to consent, was so beset with difficulties, 
 that to carry it through without at least tem- 
 porary injury to the reputation of her daughter, 
 was nearly impossible. 
 
 Had not the two houses near Lausanne been 
 previously given up, and her own let to an 
 English family, who were immediately to take 
 possession of it, Mrs. Maxwell would probably 
 have postponed the journey till the promised, 
 but uncertain return of Lady Augusta. But 
 this was now impossible, and solely because she 
 knew not what else to decide upon, she suffered 
 poor Catherine, still under the appellation of 
 Miss INIaxwell, to set off on a long journey at- 
 tended by a young nobleman to whom they did 
 not even feign to be related in any way. 
 
 The self-reproaches that now came heavily 
 upon her, were certainly not lightened by the 
 reflection that this hasty, and ill-advised mea- 
 sure was not adopted to gratify the wish of 
 Catherine, who, in the very little that she was 
 called upon to say on the subject, had decidedly 
 leaned towards delaying the marriage till Lord 
 Tremordyn was of age. But so implicitly had
 
 214 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 she been ever accustomed to obey her affec- 
 tionate, though worldly-minded mother, that it 
 never occurred to her as possible that she could 
 persevere in advocating one opinion, after Mrs. 
 Maxwell had decidedly expressed her wish to 
 act upon another. Her objections, too, were 
 rather founded on feeling than judgment. She 
 disliked the idea of hurrying on the marriage 
 more rapidly than Lady Augusta thought pro- 
 per openly to sanction, but the thought of any 
 danger or injury to herself, as the consequence, 
 never entered her head. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell, however, was too kindly-tem- 
 pered, and, indeed, had too much good sense, to 
 torment Lord Tremordyn by the expression of 
 these late regrets. She only covenanted with 
 him, that at Milan, where it had always been 
 their intention to make a halt, — and where it 
 was Lord Tremordyn's purpose to engage the 
 sei-vants they should require on the journey, — 
 that he should assume their name, and under 
 that, acknowledge Catherine to be his wife, 
 while she herself should pass for his mother. 
 This, by making him their natural and ostensi-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 215 
 
 ble protector, would obviate many present diffi- 
 culties, and falsify the truth as little as was con- 
 sistent with their promise of secrecy to Lady 
 Augusta. 
 
 To this proposal Lord Tremordyn readily 
 and joyfully agreed, as well as to the necessary 
 precaution of avoiding all society during the 
 ensuing year. To render this latter measure 
 more easy, and more effectual, they at length, 
 and after a multitude of consultations on the 
 subject, decided to abandon the project of their 
 Italian tour, or rather to postpone it, till it 
 could be made with all the appurtenances for 
 enjoyment becoming their rank, and finally de- 
 termined upon seeking some retired residence 
 in the neighbourhood of Milan, that might suit 
 them during the interval. 
 
 Catherine was the person whom this change 
 of plan disappointed the most. Florence, Ve- 
 nice, Rome, Naples, had been all promised her, 
 and her heart beat with almost childish impa- 
 tience at the proposal. 
 
 But her days of happy thoughtlessness were 
 drawing rapidly to their close. The daily
 
 216 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 caution necessary, even before the servants, to 
 give Lord Tremordyn his borrowed name, was 
 very painfid to her ; and though her gay spirits 
 could have well enabled her to endure the se- 
 clusion in which they were preparing to live, 
 had no concealment or mystery attended it, she 
 now felt something like an instinctive shudder 
 when she found herself installed as Mrs. Max- 
 well in a lonely chateau, half furnished, and 
 greatly larger than they required, at the dis- 
 tance of a league from the nearest village, and 
 three from the city of Milan. 
 
 Lord Tremordyn's first object on entering 
 this abode was, as may be easily believed, to 
 obtain for it whatever could render the seclu- 
 sion agreeable to his young wife, and two or 
 three rooms were soon made to lose their almost 
 desolate appearance, by being amply filled with 
 the most costly furniture that Milan could 
 supply. 
 
 Since his accident. Lord Tremordyn had 
 found it necessary to abandon his beloved 
 flute, but an excellent pianoforte was procured 
 for Catherine, and to her use of it, they all
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 217 
 
 looked as to one very effectual means of be- 
 guiling away the hours of the coming winter. 
 Novels, poems, and plays, were also scattered 
 through the rooms in abundance, and the elas- 
 tic spirit of Catherine began to tell her again 
 that she should be very happy, when her tran- 
 quillity, and still more that of her unfortunate 
 mother, was overthrown by the following letter. 
 
 " Edinburgh, 10th Sept. 1831. 
 
 " Dear Aunt Maxwell, 
 
 " Had not your own hand, whose character I 
 cannot mistake, written the letter which I have 
 just had the extreme displeasure to receive, 
 there is no one living who could have persuaded 
 me to believe in the contents. For could I have 
 credited that it was any thing but a mockery, 
 had I been told by another, that you, who 1 
 know pride yourself on your knowledge of the 
 world, and a proper deference to its opinions, 
 could be persuaded by any lord or lady on the 
 earth to give away your sweet Catherine 
 secretly .'' 
 
 " Good God ! such a creature as Catherine ! 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 As unequalled in innocence and goodness, as in 
 beaut V ! You will not do it, aunt Maxwell — 
 I will not think but some feeling befitting the 
 widow of the brave Colonel Maxwell will pre- 
 vent your so risking my sweet cousin's happi- 
 ness and honour — and for what ? For the 
 paltry hope of obtaining the reluctant consent 
 of that haughty woman to her wearing in days 
 to come the coronet of her family. But know 
 you not that this proud woman, whom my poor 
 Kate describes as almost disdaining the earth 
 that bears her — know you not that she will 
 herself be Countess of Tremordyn in her own 
 right, if this delicate young man die childless ? 
 And see you not more skill to circumvent, than 
 readiness to concede, in that valueless consent 
 she has given to her brother's thus secretly 
 taking from you your sweet child ? 
 
 '^ Aunt Maxwell, if the fatal deed be not 
 already done — (which God in his mercy for- 
 bid !) — if my innocent cousin has not already 
 been sacrificed to crafty policy on one side, and 
 (pardon me) a most weak ambition on the 
 other, — save her from both ! Bring her instantly
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 219 
 
 to me. I enclose you an order for fifty pounds, 
 payable at Milan, which will defray your ex- 
 penses in coming to me. Now I have lost my 
 dear sister, the ' noble independence ' you talk 
 of will be but of little worth to me, if my poor 
 Catherine be otherwise than happy. Bring her 
 to me, aunt Maxwell. My house shall be as 
 much yours as it is my own ; she shall be the 
 happy darling of both ; and your income shall 
 accumulate for a year or two, to put you in 
 funds to look out again for a residence, where- 
 ever you may wish to find it. 
 
 " Your affectionate Friend 
 " And Niece, 
 
 " Elizabeth Murray." 
 
 To Catherine she wrote on the same paper, 
 as if to ensure her seeing the whole letter. 
 
 " What is this you are going to do, my 
 darling Kattie ? You say not a word as to the 
 time at which this discreditable ceremony is to 
 take place, but tell me you are going to travel 
 with these people; I presume, therefore, it will 
 
 l2
 
 220 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 be performed on the high-road, at the first 
 place where my aunt and this wily woman shall 
 find a man who calls himself a minister, and 
 may be bribed to do what he is bid — and no 
 more. My only hope rests in the belief that 
 the lady sister will not trust her secret — (a se- 
 cret, on the universal publicity of which de- 
 pends your fair fame, my poor child) — I think, 
 I say, that she will not risk this secret, where 
 both of you are known, and it is therefore I 
 trust that this letter will be in time to save you. 
 My dear Kattie, remember that, amiable as 
 your love and devotion to your mother has 
 ever been, the time is come in which it is your 
 bounden duty to judge and act for yourself. 
 Let not mere blind obedience lead you to con- 
 sent to this most degrading proposal. Are you 
 not the daughter of a gentleman ? and would 
 not he have thought such an offer an insult, had 
 it been made to the bare footed daughter of his 
 hind ? Why have I loved you so entirely, my 
 sweet Kate ? I am ten long years your elder, 
 and yet there is not one of all my numerous 
 and well-esteemed clan that I love as I do you.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 221 
 
 There is that in you, my poor child, which if 
 not crushed and smothered ere ^t be mature, 
 will make this act (end as it may) a stigma on 
 you in your own esteem as long as you shall 
 live. I know you better than you know your- 
 self. Gay are you, and thoughtless, Kattie, 
 enough, till something awakens within you the 
 high-minded reasonings of a pure and honour- 
 able spirit, and then you can feel, and think 
 too. Alas ! dear girl ! the time is passing, 
 perhaps already past, when your light heart 
 could drive such thoughts away ; and should 
 reason and judgment come too late to save you 
 from unworthy conduct, I know what your fate 
 will be. But I have said enough, if choice be 
 still left you ; — too much, greatly too much, if 
 it be not. In either case, write to me on the 
 instant. I shall not sleep in peace till I know 
 more. 
 
 '' Your''s, dearest Cousin, 
 
 •' With fondest affection, 
 
 " E. Murray." 
 
 On reading this terrible letter, not only did
 
 222 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 all Mrs. Maxwell's fears return, but it set the 
 whole transaction in so new, yet so just a light, 
 that unable to bear the anguish occasioned by it, 
 alone, she ran to the saloon where Lord Tre- 
 mordyn and Catherine always passed their morn- 
 ingSj and careless, or rather thoughtless of con- 
 sequences, threw it on the table before them, 
 while sinking into a chair beside her daughter, 
 she gave way to a passion of tears, which 
 speedily led to a violent fit of hysterics. 
 
 The young couple started up in ignorant, 
 but fearful alarm. 
 
 " Is it from Augusta .^" said Lord Tre- 
 mor dyn, turning very pale. 
 
 " From my cousin," exclaimed Catherine, 
 glancing her eye on the open letter. *' What 
 can she have said to have produced this dread- 
 ful emotion in my mother ?'' 
 
 It was a question that Mrs. Maxwell was in 
 no condition to answer. 
 
 Lord Tremordyn rang the bell : her own 
 maid was sent for ; and stretched upon a sofa be- 
 tween open windows, and half drowned in aro- 
 matic essences, the unhappy mother lay for
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 223 
 
 nearly half an hour, apparently unconscious of 
 what was passing round her. 
 
 This interval was one of unbearable suspense 
 to Lord Tremordyn, and to end it, he entreated 
 Catherine to read the letter, and told the at- 
 tendant to leave the room. 
 
 But Catherine had placed herself behind her 
 mother, supporting her head upon her lap; 
 she could not move a hand without the risk of 
 disturbing her, and stating this fact in answer 
 to his request, imprudently added, with all 
 the confiding frankness of her age and cha- 
 racter — " Read it yourself, dear Theodore. 
 My cousin Elizabeth can say nothing that I 
 would not wish you to see; I only fear her 
 letter brings bad news of some of our friends." 
 
 It may be some excuse for poor Catherine's 
 imprudence to remark, that her mother had 
 never fully expressed, or explained to her, 
 the cause of the anxiety she had displayed upon 
 the departure of Lady Augusta ; and as Mrs. 
 Maxwell herself had a strong propensity to 
 make herself happy and contented, she had, in 
 fact, after the first alarm had been reasoned
 
 224 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 away by Lord Tremordyn, almost forgotten 
 the cause of it. From this state of happy secu- 
 rity Miss Murray's letter had frightfully 
 awakened her, and showed her moreover, (what 
 was very nearly as painful as her renewed 
 alarm,) that if evil ensued, it was upon her, 
 and her only, that the blame would fall. 
 
 Well-meaning, though not strong-minded, 
 and affectionate, though vain, Mrs. Maxwell 
 had generally escaped every thing like severity 
 of judgment from any one, and it now seemed 
 ready to fall upon her at a moment when her 
 renewed anxiety made her peculiarly unable to 
 bear it. 
 
 Had Catherine known all this, she would 
 have done any other thing in the world, rather 
 than have suffered Lord Tremordyn to read 
 her cousin's letter. He did read it, however, 
 and its effect upon him, as she watched it from 
 her constrained position near her mother, was 
 such as almost to make her fall beside Mrs. 
 Maxwell, as senseless as herself. Never before 
 had she felt surprise and terror to such painful 
 excess.
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. '225 
 
 Lord Treraordyn was very pale when he 
 began to read this fatal letter, but as he pro- 
 ceeded with it, his face became crimson, his 
 eyes were almost frightfully distended, and 
 large drops of perspiration burst from his fore- 
 head. At that dreadful moment a doubt re- 
 specting the motives of his sister first found its 
 way into his heart. His excellent understand- 
 ing, and the clear integrity of his mind, enabled 
 him at once to feel the truth of Miss Murray's 
 observations, and he felt also the dreadful con- 
 sciousness that nothing but the selfish violence 
 of passion could have blinded him to the ob- 
 vious truth, that he might by thus indulging it, 
 bring doubt upon the fair fame of the woman 
 he would willingly have died to protect. So 
 visible were the traces of this agony on his 
 countenance, that Catherine for the moment 
 almost forgot her mother, and placing her head 
 gently on the sofa, flew to her husband, with 
 every demonstration of the tenderest alarm. 
 
 " Theodore ! dearest Theodore !" she cried, 
 " for God's sake speak to me I What can EH- 
 
 L 5
 
 226 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 zabeth's letter contain to affect you both in this 
 frightful manner ?" 
 
 Lord Tremordyn threw his arms fondly 
 round her, exclaiming — " Have I destroyed 
 thee, my best beloved ?" 
 
 Tears, scalding tears, yet producing some de- 
 gree of relief, burst from his eyes, while the 
 gentle caresses of his young wife at once soothed 
 and excited the feeling that caused them to 
 flow. 
 
 " Destroyed me, Theodore ? What is this 
 mystery ? Recover yourself, my dear Tre- 
 mordyn ; let me read this dreadful letter my- 
 self. There can be nothing in it to justify 
 such violent emotion.'"* So saying, Catherine, 
 though not without trembling, took up the 
 letter which had fallen at her husband's feet, 
 and while one of his hands was locked in hers, 
 read it through. 
 
 " Dear, dear, Elizabeth !" she exclaimed 
 cheerfully, as she finished it. " Love and for- 
 give her, Theodore. I should indeed hardly 
 hope for this, my dear husband, did I not be- 
 lieve that excessive, over-anxious love for me
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF 227 
 
 was very likely to find excuse from you ; it is this, 
 and only this, that has made my foolish cousin 
 write thus. Indeed, Theodore, you must laugh 
 at it, and nothing else."" 
 
 " Angel I'"* exclaimed the agitated young 
 man ; " how can I repay such heavenly good- 
 ness? You do me justice, Catherine. This 
 awful letter gives me no offence — it only makes 
 me tremble at the frightful risk my thoughtless 
 love has brought upon you. But I will guard 
 you from it, Catherine, as tenderly as your ad- 
 mirable cousin would do. It is not this sits hea- 
 viest on my heart. Love, thoughtless, impe- 
 tuous, selfish, has made me err ; but wiser, 
 better, and if possible, still tenderer love, shall 
 set all right again. No, my beloved wife,**^ he 
 continued, clasping her to his bosom, " wife, 
 before God and man. It is not any fear that I 
 am unable to protect you — it is not that which 
 has stabbed, and rankles here. O Catherine ! 
 
 .... I have so loved my sister '' 
 
 Lord Tremordyn ceased to speak, and again 
 exhibited signs of overpowering agitation. He 
 pressed his hands with strong effort upon his
 
 228 TREMORDVN CLIFF. 
 
 heart, as if he felt its movement painful, his 
 lips became lividly pale, his whole frame shi- 
 vered, and drops of agony again stood upon 
 his brow. 
 
 Inexpressibly terrified, Catherine looked to- 
 wards her still speechless mother, as if for assist- 
 ance, and almost at the same moment Mrs. 
 Maxwell opened her eyes, and appeared gra- 
 dually to recover her consciousness. 
 
 " Look at my poor mother, Theodore !" said 
 Catherine, endeavouring to rouse him from his 
 dreadful reverie — " Will you not help me to 
 comfort and re-assure her ?"" 
 
 This seasonable appeal was not lost upon 
 him ; though scarcely able to support himself, 
 he rose from his chair, and approaching the 
 sofa, knelt down beside it, and clasping Mrs. 
 Maxwell's hands in his, expressed such deep 
 contrition for the imprudence his headstrong 
 passion had led him to commit, such gratitude 
 for her indulgent kindness to him, and such 
 burning anxiety at ojice to proclaim his mar- 
 riage to the whole world, that the spirit of the 
 repentant and self-condemned mother revived
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 229 
 
 within her. She half rose from her recumbent 
 posture, and struggling with the weakness her 
 late paroxysm had left, she said with energy — 
 " Do so, my dear son, and all will be right at 
 once. Do so, dear Lord Tremordyn, and 
 neither the friends of your wife, nor yur own 
 good and honourable heart, will then reproach 
 you for the past. Our awkward and embar- 
 rassing situation will be changed for one of tri- 
 umph and of joy, and your first year of mar- 
 riage will pass as it ought, in bestowing honour 
 and happiness on your young wife in the face 
 of day, and before all her kindred — instead of 
 doing that which may endanger both for ever." 
 " You are right !"' cried Lord Tremordyn, 
 starting upon his feet with renewed courage ; 
 "it is the only line of conduct my sister has 
 left me. Perilous as I now see it would be, I 
 would still keep my promise to Augusta, did 
 she keep hers to me. But, blind as I was to 
 consequences, and unmindful of every thing 
 but the happiness of at once making Catherine 
 my wife, I would not have married thus, had 
 not my sister promised us her sanction. I do
 
 230 TREMORDYN CLIl'F. 
 
 not," he continued after a pause, " cannot, will 
 not, at once adopt the horrible surmises which 
 have occurred to your cousin . . . . " He 
 stopped, evidently unable to articulate what 
 farther he wished to say. The same fearful 
 trembling again shook his frame, and he hid his 
 face with both hands, as if unwilling that any 
 shadow of the hateful thoughts which might 
 pass over it should be seen. 
 
 " Nor is it right you should, dearest Theo- 
 dore," said the cheering voice of Catherine, as 
 she placed a chair for him, and drew another 
 close to it for herself. " We have all, it seems, 
 acted with too much precipitation — too much 
 forgetfulness of consequences — but we are all 
 ready to be wiser for the future, and why should 
 we doubt that your sister will prove so too?" 
 
 " I will not doubt, my best comforter — my 
 precious wife," said Lord Tremordyn, fondly 
 returning her caresses. But even as he said 
 this, it was evident that some misgiving, some 
 unnamed gnawing fear, was at his heart. It 
 was equally clear, however, that it was not his 
 intention to disclose it, for rousing himself
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 231 
 
 anew, he again drew near to the sofa, and re- 
 ferring to what Mrs. Maxwell had said, repeated 
 his earnest and entire accordance with it. 
 
 " My resolution is taken," he continued, "and 
 nothing that my sister can now do, or say, shall 
 shake it. Letters from her ought already to 
 have reached us ; but it is possible she may 
 wait for more certain intelligence respecting the 
 business she is upon, than it was possible for her 
 to procure on her first arrival in London. Her 
 silence, therefore, I will not as yet quarrel with, 
 though it looks not well. I will now give her 
 time to receive, and reply to a letter from me, 
 before I set off with Lady Tremordyn and 
 yourself for England. Should I receive such 
 an answer as I wish, and with it an authenti- 
 cated copy of the certificate of our marriage, 
 we will travel with all leisure and all comfort — 
 but still to England — and crave my sister's 
 pardon for the doubts her own imprudence has 
 occasioned. But," he continued, while his 
 countenance again underwent a very painful 
 change, " should it be otherwise — should we 
 not hear from her, or not as we wish
 
 232 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 no hour must be lost — we must repair to Eng- 
 land instantly ; and, cost me what agony it 
 may to expose one I have so dearly loved, jus- 
 tice shall be done to my wife, let who may pay 
 the forfeit." 
 
 There was so much energy of purpose, so 
 much manly firmness, and such unshrinking de- 
 cision in the manner of Lord Tremordyn as he 
 spoke, that his hearers caught a portion of his 
 courage, and even the conscience-stricken mother 
 was calmed, by seeing that her daughter's hap- 
 piness was, in truth, wholly placed in the hands 
 of a man completely worthy of the precious 
 trust. It was now evident, even to her nervous 
 and terrified mind, that if Lord Tremordyn 
 did act as he proposed, the treachery of his 
 sister, if indeed it existed, could be of no last- 
 ing consequence. 
 
 Seeing Mrs. Maxwell once more restored to 
 something like composure, and a smile of the 
 sweetest cheerfulness lighting up the beautiful 
 countenance of his wife, he left them together, 
 while he retired to another room to write the 
 letter on which he believed his own destiny, 
 and that of his sister, depended.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 233 
 
 The reserve she had hitherto thought it right 
 to adopt towards her daughter^ respecting Lady 
 Augusta's conduct, being now completely with- 
 drawn, poor Mrs. Maxwell experienced the 
 greatest consolation in conversing freely with 
 her on the peculiar circumstances of their si- 
 tuation. 
 
 Had Catherine's view of the subject been 
 less cheering than it really was, her mother 
 would still have enjoyed that best of all comforts 
 under anxiety, unfettered confidence of com- 
 munication with the one that is nearest and 
 dearest to us. But in addition to this, Cathe- 
 rine had much to say that was really consoling. 
 She dwelt eloquently on her husband's power 
 and will to render utterly harmless the very 
 vilest and basest machinations that imagination 
 could attribute to Lady Augusta, and she then 
 examined, solely by the light of her own pure 
 and innocent spirit, indeed, the character of this 
 Lady Augusta, and showed with much energy 
 how improbable it was that one so noble and so 
 esteemed, should act in the manner her cousin 
 seemed to suspect.
 
 234 TRE.MORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 Had there not been much substantial coin- 
 fort in that portion of Catherine's arguments 
 which related to her husband, the effect she 
 produced on the mind of her mother would 
 have been less satisfactory, for Mrs. Maxwell, 
 though not strong-minded, was acute, and 
 whilst her daughter combated with sincere in- 
 credulity the suspicions she entertained, she 
 listened, but could not stifle them. 
 
 It was plain to her that Lord Tremordyn's 
 undoubtins: confidence in his sister had now 
 given way before the force of the circumstances 
 which told against her, made manifest, as they 
 were, by the letter of Miss Murray ; this at 
 once threw down the strongest barrier that ever 
 existed in her own mind, against believing that 
 Lady Augusta's conduct towards them had 
 been a system of treachery throughout. The 
 whole tissue of it seemed now displayed before 
 her, nor was the assiduous preparation of her 
 supper the night before the marriage, or her 
 subsequent indisposition either forgotten or mis- 
 understood. 
 
 None of these thoughts were hid from Ca-
 
 TREMOllBYN CLIFF. 235 
 
 therine ; but had they even been all fully re- 
 ceived as true, their ill-efFects would have been 
 neutralized by her mother's adding with fer- 
 vour — '* Thank God ! my dearest child, she 
 cannot harm you. That I have been hasty and 
 imprudent I am ready to allow; but, Heaven 
 be praised, my Catherine, you will not suffer 
 by it. Lord Tremordyn is the very soul of 
 honour — your fate is in his hands, and you are 
 safe." 
 
 To this statement Catherine agreed with 
 all her heart, and all her judgment ; and 
 shuddering, as she did at the possibility (for she 
 would allow it to be no more) that Lady Au- 
 gusta had plotted her destruction, she too gave 
 Heaven thanks that her destiny was in the 
 power of a husband, so well able to save her 
 from it. 
 
 " But, Elizabeth, mamma ? Which of us shall 
 write to her ?" said Catherine. " She will not 
 sleep in peace, dear soul ! till she hears from 
 us. I know she will not. We must not lose a 
 day; yet I think we must both write." 
 
 As she spoke slie opened her writing-desk.
 
 236 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 and had seated herself at it, pen in hand, when 
 her mother stopped her. " Let me write first, 
 Catherine. She shall see that I am ready to 
 do penance for m}^ fault ; for I will tell her 
 how perfectly I believe her worst suspicions to 
 be just." 
 
 Catherine shook her head. 
 " Nay, you need not fear for her night's rest," 
 resumed her mother. " What I have to tell 
 her of your husband, and the effect her letter 
 produced on him, is quite sufficient to set her 
 heart at rest." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell's letter was indeed so frank, 
 and so candid in every respect, that while it 
 justified all Miss Murray's severity, it was well 
 calculated to disarm it, and at the same time 
 gave so clear and so plain a statement of Lord 
 Treraordyn's conduct and intentions, as might 
 well suffice to calm her too just alarms, and, 
 to use Mrs. Maxwell's words, " set her heart at 
 rest." 
 
 To this Catherine added a page that bore the 
 stamp of her heart, for it was glowing in grate- 
 ful affection towards her cousin, and full of 
 happy confidence in the future.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 237 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell proposed showing this letter 
 to Lord Tremordyn, but Catherine, from a 
 feeling of delicacy towards his sister, said, she 
 had rather seal it before he returned, and she 
 had just done so when he entered. 
 
 It was immediately evident to them both, 
 that writing the letter he held open in his hand 
 had cost him dear. His whole aspect was 
 changed from what it had been as he sat beside 
 Catherine a few hours before, when Mrs. Max- 
 well entered to them. One might have thought, 
 to look at him, that he was slowly and doubt- 
 fully recovering from some long and wear- 
 ing malady, such havoc had strong emotion 
 made in him. 
 
 "You have been writing to your cousin, 
 Catherine," said he, seeing the letter lying on 
 her desk, " and I — have written to my sister." 
 
 Tears, but such as a man might shed un- 
 shamed, rose to his eyes, though he made a 
 powerful and painful effort to subdue the feel- 
 ing that caused them. 
 
 '• Read the letter, my love," he added, placing 
 it before her ; " read it to your mother, Cathe-
 
 238 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 rine; — I do not feel well, and will lie down for 
 an hour. Seal and send my letter with your 
 own to the post — and then come to me, dearest." 
 He kissed her forehead, and withdrew. His 
 letter to Lady Augusta ran thus — 
 
 " Should the" letter I am about to write to 
 you, Augusta, be sent back to me with proof, 
 most damning, undeniable proof, that I am a 
 wretch for writing it, I will welcome it, like 
 light from heaven, and lay your just anger to 
 my heart as the sweetest balm that ever eased 
 and healed a rankling wound. 
 
 " My sister ! . . . I have to tell you . . . O 
 Augusta ! for twenty years you have been the 
 object of my soul's idolatry. Your will was 
 the law by which I lived; your wishes the 
 only light I asked to guide my own. It was 
 to your eye I looked, to teach me how to think 
 — to your voice, to tell me how to act — to 
 your smile, to feel that I might be happy. 
 Augusta, there was no moment of my life, at 
 which I would not have laid it down for you. 
 And this was no bhnd worship, offered I knew
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 239 
 
 not why — it was but the return of what I 
 thought your perfect love. Have you not 
 loved me, sister ? Could all the years of 
 watchful tenderness so graven on my heart, 
 have any source but love ? 
 
 " And yet, Augusta, I now dare to doubt 
 you. This day has brought a letter from a 
 cousin of my wife, in which suspicions dark 
 and dreadful are expressed concerning you — 
 concerning the part you have acted in making 
 my marriage secret. Augusta, I now see 
 this secret in its true light — it is a crime 
 against my wife, against her honour, and 
 against her fame. Sister, this scheme was 
 yours ! That I embraced it, may be for- 
 given me, for I did so in a paroxysm of im- 
 petuous passion that left me not master of my 
 understanding — but no such impulse blinded 
 you. This act, and the possible motive for 
 it, are spoken of in the letter of this morning 
 with such terrible force of truth and reason, that 
 my very soul was tortured as I read it. But, 
 alas ! Augusta, this is not all. What would 
 this watchful friend say did she know the 
 rest? Mad as I was, Augusta, I would not
 
 240 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 have suffered my sweet Catherine to follow 
 me without the name of wife, had you not 
 promised to continue with us. As your 
 friends, as your chosen, honoured friends, 
 they were to travel in our company, and this 
 would have been a shield against all calumny. 
 Where is it now ? And where, Augusta, is 
 that paper, tliat certificate— the only document 
 that I can show as yet, to prove my mar- 
 riage ? O God ! . . . . How wholly have I 
 trusted you, Augusta. Can you have be- 
 trayed me ? Do I live to ask it ? Sister, I 
 will uot be trifled with— I will soon know 
 whether these hideous suspicions be true or 
 false. For a reasonable time I shall wait for 
 your reply. If it come not, or come not as 
 I wish it, you must bear the rest. Misery, 
 shame, eternal obloquy, must be the result of 
 treachery in this marriage, if treachery there 
 be ; but it shall not fall on Catherine. 
 
 " Augusta ! teach me to weep in penitence 
 for using this language to you ; — though they 
 were tears of blood, my sister, my soul should 
 bless you for it. 
 
 " Tremordyn."
 
 TllEMORDYN CLIFF. 241 
 
 Both Catherine and her mother were deeply 
 affected by the perusal of this letter. They 
 had both seen enough of Lord Tremordyn's 
 manner to his sister, to be aware of his profound 
 attachment to her, and deeply felt what the 
 force of that sentiment must be, which could 
 enable him so to address her. His young wife 
 particularly felt it, for in the early days of their 
 intimacy, when he thought perhaps, that Lady 
 Augusta did not show herself to the best ad- 
 vantage, he had often dwelt upon her noble 
 qualities, and loved to relate the thousand in- 
 stances engraven on his memory, of her watch- 
 ful care, her indulgent fondness, and to paint 
 her as a being that it was a glory to love and 
 to approach. 
 
 "Alas!" thought Catherine, as she remem- 
 bered that it was for her this tender union had 
 been broken, " how shall I atone to him for 
 the loss of her? for lost she must be. If she 
 be guilty, he never can forgive her — if inno- 
 cent, she never will forgive him.'' 
 
 She roused herself from these thoughts to 
 obey the wishes of her husband. The important 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 TllEMOUDYN CLIFF. 
 
 letter was sealed, and a man and horse dis- 
 patched to Milan to convey the two packets 
 to the post. 
 
 Having seen this done, Catherine sat down 
 for a quiet half-hour with her mother, and 
 having succeeded in again talking her happy 
 temper into hope and confidence for the future, 
 she concluded her welcome eloquence by saying, 
 "With such a husband as Tremordyn, mamma, 
 what can I have to fear ? . . . . Only that he 
 will spoil me, and make me too happy, and too 
 saucy to bear the chidings of my wise cousin 
 as I ought." 
 
 So saying, she rose gaily, to quit the room, 
 but before she did so, made her mother resume 
 her recumbent position, and charged her to 
 take a nap, that she might recover the agitation 
 and fatigue of this eventful day. 
 
 She then repaired to her husband's room ac- 
 cording to the request he had made as he left 
 her; but remembering that he talked of lying 
 down, she approached the door gently, and 
 stopped for a moment ere she opened it, to 
 listen for any sound that might indicate his
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 243 
 
 being awake. Every thing, however, was pro- 
 foundly still, and feeling certain that he slept, 
 she turned from the door, determined not to 
 disturb him, and to seek for herself the re- 
 freshment of a walk among the orange-trees of 
 her spacious garden. 
 
 Ere she had taken many steps, however, she 
 remembered that Lord Tremordyn had said he 
 would lie down for an hour. It was already 
 considerably more than this since he left them, 
 and fearing that, if awake, he might be vexed 
 at her want of punctuality, she turned back, 
 and gently opening the door, entered with noise- 
 less step, and approached the bed. 
 
 The sight that greeted her seemed to turn 
 her heart to stone, and she stood without voice 
 or movement, gazing at it, till every function 
 of life stood still, and she fell senseless on the 
 ground. 
 
 The bed was steeped in blood, which had 
 flowed, even to the floor — but now had ceased 
 to flow. Stretched on this ghastly couch, his 
 head fallen from the pillow, his hands clenched, 
 and his features disfigured by the crimson tide 
 
 M 2
 
 244 TEEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 that had choked him, lay Lord Tremordyn — 
 the young, the beautiful, the good. Life was 
 quite extinct, and even the inexperienced eyes 
 of his poor wife, who had never looked on death 
 before, could not mistake the fearful glare, the 
 rigid stiflPness, the awful strangeness that was 
 left, where she had ever seen the soft, sweet 
 smile of happy love. 
 
 Poor Catherine ! she gazed not long — and 
 blessed was the swoon that closed her eyes upon 
 a sight, fearful enough to stop the throbbing 
 of her heart for ever.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 245 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 "... Found her fair soul. Ah! so to find. 
 Is but more dreadful grief to know ; 
 For sure the privilege of mind, 
 Cannot be worth the risk of woe." 
 
 Shf.nstone. 
 
 How long the unhappy Catherine continued in- 
 sensible, it is impossible to say, for when her 
 blood again began to circulate, and life and 
 consciousness returned, she was still alone. 
 
 The light had begun to fade, and the jalou- 
 sies being closed over the windows, rendered 
 the room very nearly dark. The first sensation 
 of returning to life is always painful. There is 
 a sickness, and a mistiness, and a doubt of 
 where, and why, and how one is, that makes 
 the ])ressure of some kind hand, and the wel- 
 coming glance of some affectionate eye, most 
 needful. Catherine was not subject to faint-
 
 246 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 ing ; this was the first time she had ever com- 
 pletely lost her senses, and as they returned to 
 her, they brought with them nothing but indi- 
 cations of misery. Her brain seemed filled with 
 images of horror beyond what her memory 
 could arrange, and the ordinary phrase of, 
 " Where am I ?" which almost always escapes 
 the. lips under such circumstances, was changed 
 with her for — " What has happened ?" 
 
 But no soothing voice was there to answer, 
 and it was in solitude and darkness, that, step 
 by step, recollection brought back to her all 
 the terrors of the sight upon which she had 
 closed her eyes. 
 
 She was stretched on the floor beside the 
 bed on which her husband lay. Her con- 
 sciousness was all returned, she knew that 
 he lay there, she knew that, did she but 
 raise her hand, she should touch his, now stiff 
 and cold in death. She would have dragged 
 herself away, but she felt spell-bound. She 
 dared not move, lest her movement might de- 
 range the position of him who lay so near her. 
 In the extremity of her agony she shrieked the
 
 TREMORDYM CLIFF. 247 
 
 name of " mother !" But the lofty chamber 
 only caught, and seemed to echo the sound. 
 It was distant from the servants, and more dis- 
 tant still from the room where she had left her 
 mother to repose. Her own voice, as she pro- 
 nounced the word, made her heart beat, as if it 
 would have burst from her bosom. She re- 
 mained fur a few moments perfectly motionless 
 and still, and then, some softer feeling taking 
 place of the horror which had seized her, she 
 raised herself on her knees, and throwing her 
 arms across the bed to seek what a few mo- 
 ments before she had so tremblingly shrunk 
 from, she found the cold hand of Lord Tre- 
 mordyn, and pressing it to her lips and to her 
 heart, shed a shower of tears upon it, which, 
 agonizing as they were, probably saved her from 
 frenzy. 
 
 Thus softened, and brought back to her own 
 sweet nature, the mind of Catherine no longer 
 struggled with that nameless and indescribable 
 species of agony, which arises from the mixture 
 of superstitious and natural feeling, at the sud- 
 den proximity of death. She felt that she was
 
 248 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 bereaved, and most unhappy, but her reason 
 no longer threatened to forsake her. Tears of 
 bitter sorrow continued to chase each other 
 down her pale cheeks, but her mind was suffi- 
 ciently restored to permit her raising her 
 thoughts to God, and asking support from the 
 only source that could give it. 
 
 It was thus her mother found her. Soothed 
 into perfect tranquillity by the conduct of Lord 
 Tremordyn, and the satisfactory reasonings 
 upon it, of her daughter, Mrs. Maxwell had 
 obeyed Catherine's parting injunction with 
 right good will. For a short hour or two, but 
 which had appeared to her intolerably long, she 
 had suffered severely both from the keen re- 
 monstrance of her niece, whom she equally 
 loved and respected, and from the dreadful fears 
 for her daughter, which her observations had re- 
 vived and strengthened. But sorrow was a visitoi- 
 who could never remain a moment longer in the 
 licart of Mrs. Maxwell than till she could find 
 some knight errant of the family of Hope, who 
 would help her to thrust him out again ; and 
 when poor Catherine left her, she was in that
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 249 
 
 enviable state of nerves, which just gives us 
 sufficient indication of having suffered, to render 
 tlie ceasing to do so delightful, and this was 
 joined to a feeling of fatigue sufficiently strong 
 to make preparing for repose a luxury. So 
 nestling her head comfortably among the 
 cushions of the sofa, and breathing an ardent 
 blessing on her " dear, kind child," she fell into 
 a profound slumber, which lasted from four 
 o'clock till near seven. 
 
 With the usual English pertinacity of at- 
 tachment to native habits, this was still the 
 hour of dinner for the family, and no sooner 
 had it sounded from the old-fashioned clock in 
 the great hall, than a servant entered the room 
 where Mrs. Max well was reposing, to announce 
 that it was on the table. 
 
 She started from the sofa, somewhat amazed 
 at having thus lazily forgotten the hour for 
 dressing, and addressing the servant, who was 
 the only Englishman in the household, inquired 
 whether her son and Mrs. Maxwell were in the 
 dining-room. 
 
 *' No, ma'am," replied the man, "my master 
 
 M 5
 
 250 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 has not dressed to-day, nor my mistress either ; 
 but Bianca told me they were here. Shall the 
 dinner be taken out, ma^am ?" 
 
 " No — yes — I think so, William ; give me a 
 light, and I will go to my son's room — I fear he 
 is not well." 
 
 Having taken a light from his hand, the un- 
 conscious Mrs. Maxwell threaded her way 
 through sundry long passages to the door of 
 Lord Tremordyn's apartment. She knocked 
 gently — no answer was returned ; she repeated 
 the summons more loudly, and then the 
 words " Come in," were huskily pronounced, 
 but in a voice she knew not. It was, however, 
 poor Catherine who spoke them. 
 
 After deliberating for a moment, and hardly 
 knowing whether to enter or not, she partially 
 opened the door, and without attempting to look 
 through the darkness of the chamber, she said, 
 " Is Catherine here, Theodore ?" 
 
 "O mother!" exclaimed a voice in reply, 
 but so suffocated by a fresh burst of grief, as to 
 be scarcely audible ; " O mother ! see the end 
 of all !"
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 251 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell approached the bed, raising 
 the light she held, to enable her to see, she 
 knew not, she dared not guess, what spectacle 
 of horror ; and before her thoughts had framed 
 an image of what it was she feared, the dread- 
 ful truth was visible to her eyes. 
 
 At that terrible moment, affection for her 
 daughter overpowered every other feeling. She 
 raised her from her knees, cold, trembling, and 
 unresisting, and with greater strength both of 
 mind and body than she generally displayed, 
 bore her in her arms to a chair, as distant as 
 possible from the fearful bed, and having left 
 her for a moment to pull a bell that communi- 
 cated with the offices, returned, and supported 
 the head of her child upon her bosom till the 
 loud summons brought two or three servants 
 to her assistance. 
 
 To question Catherine was impossible, for 
 though showing no symptom of returning in- 
 sensibility, there was a look of such utter ex- 
 haustion, of both mental and bodily strength, 
 in her countenance, that the most unfeeling 
 would not have asked her to pronounce a word.
 
 252 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 Nor was a word needed to explain the dread- 
 ful scene to Mrs. Maxwell, or even to the atten- 
 dants, who knew nothing of what made the 
 cause, as well as the effect, so terribly intelli- 
 gible to her. Lord Tremordyn had again 
 burst a blood-vessel, and it was evident had 
 either bled to death, or been suffocated by the 
 effusion, before his unhappy wife reached him. 
 
 Catherine was carried to her mother's chamber, 
 and through that long dreary evening, and seem- 
 ingly endless night, gave no other proof of con- 
 sciousness than occasionally pressing the hand 
 of her poor mother, in whose arms she lay, and 
 by the silent tears that from time to time, even 
 without a sob to announce that they were flow- 
 ing still, steeped her pillow. 
 
 Towards morning she fell asleep, and Mrs. 
 Maxwell, worn out with watching, yet fearing 
 to remove the arm that supported her, slept 
 too — as closely united with her poor child in 
 position, as in sorrow, sympathy, and affection 
 
 Most needful was this deep and heavy slum- 
 ber to both, but wretched indeed was their 
 waking. The very arguments that yesterday
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 253 
 
 made all their hope, were now enough to plunge 
 them in despair. It was on Lord Tremordyn 
 they had rested all their assurance of escaping 
 the snare they well believed had been laid for 
 them by his sister ; it was his honour, his 
 love, his power, and his will, that were to 
 guard his young wife from all the misery that 
 her precipitate marriage with him threatened 
 to bring upon her. With him they had felt 
 that they feared nothing — without him, the 
 hearts of both whispered that they were lost. 
 
 One circumstance, which doubting, and trem- 
 bling, between hope and fear, Catherine had 
 murmured to her mother's ear, a few days 
 only before the arrival of Miss Murray's letter, 
 and which Mrs. Maxwell had communicated 
 with joy and gladness to Lord Tremordyn, now 
 came upon the memory of both with a pang of 
 terror and an anxious foreboding of misery, that 
 almost overpowered them. Catherine was in 
 the way to become the mother of a child, who, 
 let its sex be what it might, had right to claim 
 rank, title, and domain, tliat would place it 
 among the most distinguished of the land ; yet 
 
 .j3 vw^, .wv^.,v ,..^^VW.j^
 
 254 TREMORDYX CLIFF. 
 
 had she reason to fear that its birth, instead of 
 honour, would only bring it shame, and that to 
 her, the dearest, deepest joy and pride of 
 woman, would be turned to obloquy and 
 despair. 
 
 Truly, however, had her cousin said, that 
 when circumstances called for it, Catherine had 
 that within her, which could produce feeling 
 and judgment too. Notwithstanding her ex- 
 treme youth (her seventeenth birth-day had 
 but just past by) it was she who first endea- 
 voured to shake off the heavy load of sorrow 
 that threatened to overwhelm them, and to sug- 
 gest the steps which it was their duty to take. 
 All that the tenderest and most watchful love 
 could do for the comfort and consolation of her 
 widowed child, Mrs. Maxwell unceasingly per- 
 formed ; but when Catherine turned to her for 
 counsel, her confession of inability to afford it, 
 was equally melancholy and true. 
 
 " Alas, my Catherine ! ask me not for ad- 
 vice ; I once thought I had judgment and 
 knowledge to guide you safely, but it is I who 
 have brought this misery upon you. Had I
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. iJOO 
 
 but listened to you, child as you were, all would 
 have been well. Ask me not for advice, dear 
 Catherine. Whatever occurred to me, I should 
 misdoubt, and tremble to see you adopt it. 
 Think for yourself, sweet love, and write to 
 Elizabeth. Tell her all we fear, Catherine. If 
 things go wrong, I shall never bear to look at 
 her again." 
 
 There was something inexpressibly affecting 
 to Catherine in the deep humiliation of her poor 
 mother, and the hope to raise her from it, and 
 reconcile her again to herself, gave her a strength 
 and courage to act, that without it she might 
 have wanted. 
 
 The sad duty of consigning the remains of 
 Lord Tremordyn to the grave fell heavily on 
 the heart of his young widow ; yet it was on 
 this occasion that she first showed how rapidly 
 the faculties are awakened by anxiety and care, 
 from the happy thoughtlessness of childhood. 
 
 " We have no right, mamma," said Catherine, 
 rather thinking aloud than meaning to ask ad- 
 vice; "'we have surely no right to inter the 
 remains of my noble husband in a foreign
 
 256 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 land, without permission asked of his surviving 
 friends - 1 will write to Lady Augusta, as his 
 widow ought to write — I will write too, if I 
 can recall the name, to his other guardian — Sir 
 Herbert .... Sir Herbert . . . . " 
 
 " Sir Herbert Monson, Catherine, I recollect 
 the name perfectly," said her mother; " I re- 
 member poor Tremordyn saying that Sir Her- 
 bert Monson was one of the people with whom 
 he was most anxious to make acquaintance in 
 London. Sir Herbert Monson, K.C.B. — he is 
 an admiral you know — and though I do not 
 know where he lives, I have no doubt a letter 
 would reach him, directed to the L^nited Ser- 
 vice club.'' 
 
 All this was very useful, and poor Mrs. Max- 
 well looked pleased at perceiving that Catherine 
 felt it to be so. 
 
 "My poor Theodore must be laid in lead, 
 mamma,"" resumed Catherine, while tears care- 
 fully restrained, would find their way again 
 over her cheeks, " and placed wliere he may 
 easily be removed. They will not let him lie 
 in a foreign land — 1 feel sure of it."
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 257 
 
 She sat down to write. Her letter to Sir 
 Herbert required little meditation — it merely 
 stated that the widow of Lord Tremordyn re- 
 quested his instructions relative to the disposal 
 of his body. 
 
 Not so that which was to be addressed to 
 Lady Augusta. The tenor of the one so re- 
 cently dispatched to her, and the writing of 
 which had probably cost poor Tremordyn his 
 life, rendered it impossible to address her as a 
 friend, yet might not all the danger which 
 threatened be increased by treating her as an 
 enemy ? 
 
 After more hard thinking than her whole 
 life had cost her hitherto, Catherine wrote as 
 follows : — 
 
 " Not many days have passed. Lady Augusta, 
 since Lord Tremordyn, my most dear husband, 
 wrote to you concerning the certificate of our 
 marriage — and other things that lay heavy on 
 his noble heart. That letter. Lady Augusta, 
 has been his death — your brother breathed his 
 last a few hours after it left the house. Though
 
 258 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 much has been feared and doubted respecting 
 your feelings towards me, I will not think but I 
 shall receive from you, in this my extreme grief, 
 the friendship and consolations of a sister. I 
 think I still feel the sister's kiss you gave me 
 in the little vestry of the English chapel at 
 Geneva, and hear the words in which you offer- 
 ed it — * Theodore,' you said, ' will you not 
 present your wife to me.^^' — And you must 
 remember Lady Augusta, the look of love, of 
 perfect, happy love to us both, with which he 
 obeyed you — remember this — think how my 
 heart is wrung, and you will not find the power 
 in yours, to be otherwise than kind to your poor 
 brother's widow. I could express more strong- 
 ly what I feel — I could describe to you the 
 dreadful manner of his death — for it was I who 
 found him drowned in his own blood — but since 
 it was not the will of God that this sight 
 should kill me, I will not tax my strength to relate 
 at length the manner of it. My strength, I.ady 
 Augusta, and all the life that is left me, must 
 be treasured for the sake of the being, whom 
 Tremordyn has left me to love and cherish
 
 TREMORJ^YN CLIFF. 259 
 
 for his sake. Will not his child be dear to you, 
 Lady Augusta? Can you remember him, and 
 all he was to you, and not love it ? No, no, it 
 is impossible. 
 
 " The honoured remains of your noble bro- 
 ther have been deposited in holy ground, at a 
 short distance from Milan, and in such a man- 
 ner as to facilitate, as much as may be, their 
 removal to his native land, should it be the 
 wish of his family that he should lie there. Lest 
 any chance should prevent your immediately 
 receiving this letter, I have addressed another 
 on the subject of this removal, to Sir Herbert 
 Monson, who was left, I believe, a joint execu- 
 tor with yourself. In anxious hope of receiving 
 such a letter from you, as would afford me all 
 the consolation I can now look for, 
 
 " I remain, Lady Augusta, 
 " your afflicted sister, 
 " Catherine Tremordyn. 
 
 •' Castel Minore, Oct. 28, 1831." 
 
 This painful, but necessary duty performed, 
 Catherine turned to the not less agitating, but
 
 260 TREMOIIDYN CLIFF. 
 
 far less distasteful task of addressing her cou- 
 sin ; and in doing this she poured out for the 
 first time all the misery that lay at the very 
 bottom of her heart. 
 
 But in do'ng this, she was cautious that her 
 poor mother should not share her confidence. 
 With the open frankness of a pure-minded and 
 ingenuous child, her correspondence with Miss 
 Murray had hitherto been always at the com- 
 mand of her mother, if she chose to peruse it — 
 but now — she would have forborne the consola- 
 tion of writing to her with perfect unreserve, 
 had she been obliged to submit the melancholy 
 record of her fears and her misery to her mo- 
 ther. 
 
 When Catherine, with the playful presump- 
 tion of seventeen, set about studying, as she 
 called it, the character of Lady Augusta Dela- 
 porte, neither her youth nor her innocence could 
 prevent her seeing much, that left a dark, 
 though vague impression on her mind. At first, 
 when she could not comprehend a look, a smile, 
 a sudden silence, or as sudden a burst of cour- 
 tesy, she was well disposed to believe that it was
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 261 
 
 her own want of tact, or want of quickness, or 
 want of something she had not; which rendered 
 it so difficult to understand Lady Augusta. 
 But almost unconsciously to herself a want of 
 confidence had taken place of interest and curi- 
 osity ; she felt that there was something in her 
 character that she could never sympathize with, 
 or love, and as tlie brother gained ground on 
 her imagination, as rapidly as the sister lost it, 
 she had made a sort of tacit ao^reement with 
 herself before her marriage, that her " inscruta. 
 ble ladyship," as she mentally called her, should 
 always be treated with profound respect, but 
 never occupy her heart or fancy more. 
 
 Had Lord Tremordyn lived, no resolution 
 could have tended more to the continued har- 
 mony of intercourse between all the parties. 
 But now he was gone, it was equally useless 
 and abortive. Abortive, because all her efforts 
 could no longer hide from her the real charac- 
 ter of the woman on whom all that was dear to 
 herself, and all most valuable to one more pre- 
 cious far, depended — and useless, inasmuch as 
 nothing she could now do, could affect the terms
 
 262 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 upon which it might be Lady Augusta's will 
 that they should live. 
 
 Till this sad event took place, Catherine's 
 common sense, as well as her gay spirits, had 
 taught her to defy a power, however hostile, 
 which could not reach her - neither had she be- 
 lieved, to their full extent, the terrible surmises 
 of her cousin, as to Lady Augusta's views and 
 motives — but now, that he was gone whose pow- 
 erful protection was sufficient to render what- 
 ever his ambitious sister might plot against 
 her utterly harmless, all that was dark, unin- 
 telligible, and sinister in her character, rose up 
 with frightful distinctness before her, and the 
 consequence was, that she saw her situation in 
 the terrible light of truth, and felt that her 
 chance was small indeed, of obtaining for herself 
 and her unborn infant, the rights so evidently 
 in the power of Lady Augusta to withhold. 
 All this varied and bitter anguish was disclosed 
 by her letter to Miss Murray ; and never was a 
 sadder contrast, than this letter presented, to the 
 one she had addressed to the same friend a few 
 days before her marriage.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 263 
 
 What effect the news of this speedy accom- 
 plishment of all her fears, produced on the feel- 
 ings of Catherine's Scotch cousin, will be seen 
 liereafter. 
 
 Heavy as was the cloud which hung upon the 
 future prospects of the young widow, there was 
 a care more biting still, that soon fixed its 
 sordid but powerful grasp upon her heart. 
 Lord Tremordyn's splendid allowance had been 
 liberally, if not lavishly drawn upon, since his 
 marriage, and when his present resources were 
 examined, something less than two hundred 
 ])ounds was found to be all that remained to 
 supply the expenses of the comparatively large 
 establishment he had formed. Mrs. Maxwell 
 and her daughter, both felt that some measure 
 must immediately be adopted to prevent the 
 distress that must press upon them, should 
 their worst fears prove true, and Lady Augusta 
 refuse to acknowledge Catherine as the widow 
 of her brother. The horses and carriao^e were 
 immediately sent to Milan to be sold, and two 
 female servants only retained to wait upon them. 
 Vet even these strong measures were not suflfi-
 
 264 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 cient to secure them from great and pressing diffi- 
 culties ; the interment — the necessary mourn- 
 ing — the wages of the many servants dismissed — 
 and the various though trifling arrears of their 
 liberal housekeeping, left them with so small a 
 sum to await the next receipt of Mrs. IVIax- 
 welFs quarterly payment, as to make the imme- 
 diate pressure most painfully distressing. 
 
 In addition to this, they had a large and 
 expensive mansion upon their hands. The rent, 
 indeed, in proportion to its size, was little 
 enough, but an important clause in the one 
 year's lease for which they held it, was that the 
 extensive gardens should be kept up in the 
 state in which they were found, which was 
 greatly superior in costliness and care to any of 
 the arrangements found within the large, and 
 in some parts dilapidated building. 
 
 To leave this residence was impossible, for 
 neither would the Italian nobleman to whom it 
 belonged consent to take it off their hands, nor 
 could they at such a moment leave the spot to 
 which the important communications they look- 
 ed for, must be addressed.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 265 
 
 It would be difficult to imagine any thing 
 much more desolate and melancholy than the 
 situation of Catherine and her mother at this 
 period. They were still in the same place 
 on which devoted affection had lavished every 
 comfort and every elegance that money could 
 procure — but alas ! how chilling was the con- 
 trast between their present, and past manner 
 of inhabiting it ! The noble dining-room that 
 opened by four large windows upon a garden, 
 gay with oleanders, and fragrant with orange 
 and myrtle, in which their cheerful breakfasts 
 were wont to be enlivened by a bright autumn 
 sun, and their dinners by the splendid lustres 
 that poor Tremordyn declared were absolutely 
 necessary to enable him to see Catherine across 
 the table — this magnificent eating room was 
 totally forsaken, and their mournful meals taken 
 in the only small parlour in the castle. And 
 this, just as it was, soon became their only 
 sitting-room — one bed-room served them both, 
 for neither could bear to be alone, and their 
 only consolation seemed to consist in clinging 
 closely together, and forgetting as much as pos- 
 
 VOL. T. N
 
 266 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 sible the world of cold and vacant space, en- 
 closed within the stately walls that sheltered 
 them. The very aspect of the heavens seemed 
 changed, a clear and sunny October was suc- 
 ceeded by a November, whose first days were 
 as dark, as chilling, and as misty, as their for- 
 tunes. 
 
 Heavily dragged on the days before the time 
 arrived when they might expect an answer to 
 their letters; and when this time came, at length, 
 it only brought the dreadful agitation of con- 
 stantly disappointed hope, in place of the heavy 
 stillness of distant expectation — for no letters 
 came. Post-day after post-day arrived, bring- 
 ing nothing but a sickening acceleration of pulse 
 to Catherine, before the return of her messen- 
 ger, empty-handed, from Milan, and a con- 
 stantly increasing weight of despondency after 
 it. Even her cousin seemed to have forsaken 
 and forgotten her, for neither from her did a 
 single line reach the desolate mother and daugh- 
 ter, in their distant and doubtful home. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell's well-preserved beauty faded 
 visibly under the misery she endured, and the
 
 TREMORDYX CLIFF, 267 
 
 young fair face of poor Catherine, as she ten- 
 derly watched her, seemed to reflect the palid 
 hue, and mournful expression of her mother's. 
 
 Nearly seven weeks had expired since the 
 day Lord Tremordyn died, and during the 
 whole of this time they had neither of them 
 quitted the house. A bright cold morning 
 then gave an air of cheerfulness even to the 
 leafless garden that spread before their windows, 
 and Mrs. Maxvv^ell, as she anxiously looked at 
 Catherine, whose altered aspect became every 
 day more remarkable, proposed that they should 
 walk. 
 
 " O no, mamma ! — I cannot'' — burst from 
 the lips of Catherine — but she read fresh sad- 
 ness in the looks of her mother, though she sub- 
 mitted, without a word of remonstrance, to the 
 refusal. 
 
 " Yes, I will go, dearest mother," resumed 
 Catherine ; '* you are very right, very wise, for 
 both our sakes, to make the effort — let us go at 
 once, and without thinking much about it." 
 
 N 2
 
 268 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ■ E'en man — tbe merciless, insulting man, 
 Man who rejoices in our sex's weakness, 
 Shall -iirv thee." Jane Shore. 
 
 In making this proposal, Mrs. Maxwell had 
 only contemplated taking a turn or two, along 
 the beautiful terrace of the garden ; but in 
 order to reach this garden, they must have 
 passed through the door, on the threshold of 
 which Catherine had turned, the last time she 
 sought the refreshment of the open air, to look 
 upon a spectacle, the impression of which still 
 rested upon her heart, as if it had been stamped 
 there by a hand of iron. 
 
 " Not into the garden, mamma — do not let 
 us go that way — I would rather go down the
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 269 
 
 avenue to the chaussee, it is always dry there — 
 but there are so many fallen leaves in the 
 garden." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell wisely abstained from asking 
 any other reason for poor Catherine's preference 
 for the only uninteresting walk about the place; 
 and arm-in-arm they sauntered down, " with 
 melancholy step and slow," an avenue of mag- 
 nificent chesnut trees, which led to the high 
 road. 
 
 A low wicket opened with a latch beside the 
 stately archway which formed the carriage en- 
 trance. Mrs. Maxwell pushed this open, and 
 for the first time since they had inhabited the 
 castle, they found themselves on foot, on the 
 road which led to it from Milan. 
 
 '*' The air is freer and fresher here than 
 under the trees, dear Kattie ; I think half an 
 hour's walk here will make me feel quite a dif- 
 ferent being." 
 
 The anxious mother could have found no ar- 
 gument so likely to strengthen the steps of the 
 languid Catherine as this. She pressed the 
 arm she held, and walked onward with increased
 
 TllEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 quickness. They had not, however, proceeded 
 far, when they perceived two vulgar ill-looking 
 men approaching them, whose appearance was 
 sufficiently disagreeable to induce a wish in 
 both to turn back ; but in reply to an expres- 
 sion of this wish from Catherine, Mrs. Max- 
 well observed that it would look like running 
 away from them, which might produce imper- 
 tinent observations on their part. The ladies, 
 therefore, continued to walk towards the 
 strangers, though their nearer approach by no 
 means tended to lessen the unpleasant impres- 
 sion their first appearance excited. 
 
 What probably added to the feeling of alarm 
 they inspired, was the difficulty of guessing 
 what manner of men they might be. It was 
 quite evident that they were not natives, nor 
 had they the air of any of the neighbouring 
 people, with whose appearance they had become 
 familiar. They looked like neither peasants, 
 itinerant merchants, nor artisans, and still less 
 did they look like gentlemen of any land. The 
 dress of these men was entirely black, and as 
 precisely alike, as if they had affected the cos-
 
 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 271 
 
 tume of twin brothers ; but one was tall, red- 
 faced, and burly ; the other short, lean, and 
 sallow, and at least ten years younger than his 
 companion. The countenances of both were 
 vulgar, and unprepossessing in the extreme. 
 
 A few minutes brought the two parties close 
 together. Mrs. Maxwell was in the act of 
 speaking to her daughter as they passed. The 
 elder of the two stopped short, and touching 
 his hat, said in the vilest intonation of cockney 
 barbarism — " I ax your pardon, ladies ; but 
 bean't you English ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Mrs. Maxwell stiffly. 
 " Then mayhap you may help a countryman 
 at a pinch. Our instructions from the consul's 
 clerk at Milan was uncommon precise, and he 
 said positive as we could not miss the castle no 
 how ; but devil a bit of a castle can we see, and 
 we's come the full distance — that's undoubted. 
 Can you be so obliging as to tell us where- 
 abouts the young woman 'bides as Lord Tre- 
 mordyn lived with, and died with too, which is 
 more to the purpose in our business with her. 
 But, I ax pardon, ladies — you can't know no-
 
 274 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 If the raging waves of an ocean had been 
 rolling onward behind them, and their only 
 hope of safety lay in the shelter of their home, 
 the impulse that lent them strength to push 
 forward could not have been stronger than that 
 which now urged them to get beyond reach of 
 the hateful voice which continued to make itself 
 heard at their side. 
 
 " I suppose, ladies, as you can pretty well 
 guess my business here. I belongs to the first 
 house in the line, and we comes with very hand- 
 some instructions — no expense is to be spared 
 whatsomnever. The new countess is a noble 
 lady, by all accounts, and seemsi willing to spend 
 a fortune to bring her brother'*s body over to 
 the family vault. To be sure, she comes into a 
 kingdom of money and lands by his death, to 
 say nothing of the titles, and every body says 
 she seems born for it — so generous, so grand, 
 and such a woman for business into the bargain. 
 —I'm sure I hope she'll prove herself generous 
 to you, ladies, and not put you to no unnecessary 
 inconwenience. Dear me, how brisk and active 
 you two does walk — you quite blows me. We
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 2iO 
 
 IS not used to such quick time in our profes- 
 sion." 
 
 By this time they had nearly gained the shel- 
 ter they sought, but the instrument of their 
 torture still hung upon their heels. 
 
 " Oh ! . . . . This is what they call a castle, 
 is it ? Well, 'tis big enough for any thing .... 
 You don't answer my ciwilities by many words, 
 ladies, but I take it for granted you are too sor- 
 rowful to be wery conversable as yet. Them 
 tender connexions cost a deal of trouble to you 
 ladies, one way or another — 'tis almost a wonder 
 that you arn't terrified out of making them ; 
 but natur will be natur, and love is all-power- 
 ful." 
 
 Catherine pushed open the door of entrance 
 with a force that seemed like that of deli- 
 rium, and darting along a passage which open 
 ed from the hall, was out of sight in a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Maxwell completely forgot her 
 own feelings in compassion for her daughter, 
 and when she saw her out of the reach of the 
 dreadful insults which assailed her, she felt
 
 276 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 almost as much relieved as if the disgusting 
 being who had uttered them were removed from 
 her sight. 
 
 This blessing seemed little likely to be hers. 
 The man entered the hall after her with an air 
 of almost authoritative importance, addressing 
 his companion, who appeared somewhat less 
 audacious. " Come in, Higgins ; it's of course 
 that we must have rest and refreshment after 
 our walk. I suppose, ma'am, though you won't 
 talk, you don't mean to refuse that, to them as 
 is sent for the body of my lord ? . . . . I sup- 
 pose that light-footed Miss, as is runned away, 
 was my lord's choice ; — so now, ma'am, if you 
 was not another of 'em, which is hardly likely, 
 seeing you be so friendly together, I conclude 
 he was nothing so dear and near to you, but 
 what you may pluck up courage to tell what 
 we wants to know." 
 
 " Walk in and sit down, sir," said Mrs. Max- 
 well, in the steadiest voice she could command ; 
 " I will tell you every thing." 
 
 " Come along, Higgins. Now you behaves 
 something like, ma'am ; 'twas really treating
 
 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 277 
 
 one no how, never giving one a single word, 
 good, bad, nor indifferent." 
 
 "My daughter. Lady Tremordyn," began 
 Mrs. Maxwell, as she entered the parlour, and 
 made a sign to her hideous guests to be seated — 
 But she was prevented from proceeding by the 
 man's walking very close up to her, and wink- 
 ing one eye, while he twinkled most odiously 
 with the other, he said — 
 
 " Your daughter, Lady Tremordyn ? He, 
 he, he, he ! — that's funny enough, considering 
 who I comes from ; — but if your daughter, the 
 young runaway, is as handsome as you be, I'll 
 hold to it, that she deserves to be lady any 
 thing she pleases to call herself — You be an 
 uncommon fine woman, any how." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell uttered no word in reply, but 
 stepping aside to the table on which were pens, 
 ink, and paper, she wrote a few words, and put 
 them into the hands of the undertaker, saying — 
 " Here is the direction to the place where Lord 
 Tremordyn lies interred, and the address of the 
 person who can procure the permission for his 
 removal. This is all you have the right to ask.
 
 2*^8 TIIEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 or that I can be required to give. Now, leave 
 the house, and learn from an insulted lady that 
 your business, odious as its unfeeling agents 
 must be in the house of mourning, gives you no 
 right to commit such an outrage as you have 
 done upon the family of a nobleman, whom it 
 is your office to convey to the tomb.'' 
 
 Thus far the pride and courage of the un- 
 fortunate Mrs. Maxwell supported her ; but 
 another moment would have been beyond her 
 power to endure. She rushed past the brutal 
 tradesman, and following the steps of Cathe- 
 rine, reached the room they shared — then 
 throwing herself on the bed beside her, they 
 shed together the bitterest tears that sorrow 
 had yet drawn from the eyes of either. 
 
 All they most feared was come upon them. 
 Lady Augusta had assumed the title, which 
 she would not have done had the announce- 
 ment of Catherine's pregnancy been acknow- 
 ledged by her as that of her brother^s widow. 
 Fear and terror, doubt and dread were removed, 
 and in their place, shame and misery, almost 
 too great to be borne, was their portion. This,
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 2T9 
 
 then, was the answer they had waited for — this 
 Lady Augusta's manner of acknowledging that 
 she had received their communication. 
 
 Those who are well acquainted with the 
 higher branches of the genuine Highland clans, 
 know how each lives before the eyes of all. 
 Even where accident may render personal inter- 
 course between them impossible, something ap- 
 proaching to a feeling of responsibility seems 
 to exist among them to each other, that let them 
 meet when and where they may, neither shall 
 have cause to shrink from owning kindred with 
 the other. 
 
 In no case, not even in the field of battle, 
 could this consciousness of belono^ino^ to a noble 
 name, have been more awake than it was at this 
 dreadful moment in Mrs. Maxwell. Of an 
 ancient and honourable family herself, she had 
 married a man whose race ranked higher still, 
 among the almost feudal proprietors of the 
 rocky region in which she was born. Left by 
 his early death (on tlie field of Waterloo) a 
 very young, and very lovely widow, with an 
 infant girl as the only pledge of their union, it
 
 2(S0 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 
 
 had been as much a matter of pride as of feel- 
 ino- with her to make her Kattie Maxwell an 
 ornament to her name. Nature seconded her 
 wishes well, and though fortune was less indul- 
 gent, still there was not a Maxwell north of the 
 Tweed (or south either, if he were of the ge- 
 nuine breed) who did not claim kindred with 
 the fair widow and her matchless girl, both 
 with pride and affection. This popularity, 
 though it was exactly what Mrs. Maxwell 
 wished for, brought some inconvenience with it. 
 Her income was not sufficient to afford her an 
 elegant little home^ first-rate masters for her 
 daughter, and the means of keeping up the nu- 
 merous connexions it was her delight to cul- 
 tivate. She became first fully aware of this 
 disagreeable truth just when Catherine had 
 completed her fourteenth year. A winter in 
 Edinburgh, absolutely necessary in order to 
 procure the attendance of masters, brought wich 
 it expenses wliich, if continued, must turn her 
 ])ride into disgrace, and her glory into shame. 
 As it was no love for self-induloence wh.ich led 
 to this, it »va3 the more easily seen, acknow-
 
 TKEMORDYN CLIFF. 281 
 
 ledged, and put an end to. Her resolution 
 was instantly taken. To have pleaded poverty 
 as a reason for declining to mix in the society 
 she loved, would have required more courage 
 than Mrs. Maxwell possessed, but to leave ft 
 for the purpose of finishing her daughter's edu- 
 cation on the continent was a measure that 
 brought with it no mortification, and promised 
 many advantages. It was on this she decided, 
 and set about it with a promptitude, which, by 
 at once putting a stop to expenses she could not 
 stand, rendered it as effectual as it was laud- 
 able. 
 
 But there was one person, and that one the 
 nearest in blood, and the most completely in her 
 confidence, who did not approve it. Miss 
 Murray was an orphan niece of Colonel Max- 
 well. Her mother, his elder sister by many 
 years, had married a widower with one son, 
 who d}'ing a few years after his second mar- 
 riage, left this son (already a major in the army) 
 a considerable landed property in Fifeshire, and 
 ten thousand pounds to each of his two daugh- 
 ters by his second wife. This lady did not
 
 282 TllEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 long survive him, and when she died, her two 
 little girls were taken into the family of a pa- 
 ternal bachelor uncle, and were still resident 
 with him at the time of Mrs. Maxwell's de- 
 parture for the continent. 
 
 Elizabeth Murray, the elder of the two 
 sisters, was a young woman of much energy of 
 character, great firmness of mind, and most de- 
 voted enthusiasm of affection for those she 
 loved. 
 
 Of these, her sister, and her young cousin 
 Catherine Maxwell, decidedly stood foremost, 
 and when she learned her aunt's intention of 
 going to reside for some years abroad, she re- 
 monstrated against it, not only with affectionate 
 warmth, but with the vehemence of a very de- 
 cided judgment against its propriety. Many 
 and earnest were the discussions held between 
 Mrs. Maxwell and her niece in the short inter- 
 val which elapsed between the conception of 
 this scheme and the execution of it. Miss 
 Murray insisted that none of the advantages 
 proposed by the plan, were equal in value to 
 the vicinity and protection of " her own people,''^
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 283 
 
 ^v Inch must necessarily be lost by it, and though 
 finally the aunt and niece had parted as friends, 
 it was not without such an avowed difference of 
 opinion on this point, as left each of them very 
 much on the alert to prove by the result that 
 her opponent was wrong, and herself right. 
 
 The remembrance of all this now came bit- 
 terly to the heart of Mrs. iVIaxwell. How im- 
 possible would it have been had she not with- 
 drawn herself from the protection of " her oivn 
 people,''^ that the misfortune she now groaned 
 under, could have fallen upon herself and her 
 innocent child ! 
 
 That ]\Iiss jNIurray wrote not, was an addi- 
 tional pang, almost greater than either of them 
 could bear. To Catherine the sorrow came in 
 the saddest shape in which grief can assail a 
 young heart — that of disappointed affection ; 
 and for her mother it was blended with a feel- 
 ing equally painful to one of her age and cha- 
 racter — mortified pride, and most humiliating 
 contrition. 
 
 There was one circumstance too, which Ca- 
 therine quite forgot, but which her mother
 
 284 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 keenly remembered. Since last they parted 
 Elizabeth Murray had become an heiress. Her 
 sister Annie died almost immediately after Mrs. 
 Maxwell's last visit to Scotland, of a fever 
 caught at a race-ball, and the uncle who 
 brought them up, followed her to the grave a 
 few months afterwards, leaving to his surviving 
 niece the sum of fifty thousand pounds sterling, 
 in the English funds. 
 
 Miss Murray, therefore, was a person of 
 greatly increased consequence. And was it for 
 this, that she deigned not to reply to the intel- 
 ligence of their desolate misery ? 
 
 Had this idea occurred to the mind of Ca- 
 therine, she would have rejected it with indig- 
 nation and contempt against herself for having 
 conceived it. But her unhappy mother, with a 
 spirit less fresh in youthful confidence, and less 
 free from self-reproach, conceived the stinging 
 thouglit, as she lay beside her weeping daugh- 
 ter, and too tenderly careful of poor Catherine's 
 peace to name it, she brooded over it in silence, 
 till it seemed to swallow up and overpower 
 every other source of grief.
 
 TREMORDVN CLIFF. 285 
 
 Day after day crept on, and still no letter 
 came from her, from any one. They felt as if 
 utterly forgotten and left to perish by that 
 world which had once smiled upon them so 
 kindly. But accident soon proved that even 
 such oblivion might be a blessing. Lord Tre- 
 mordyn had ordered his banker at Lausanne to 
 forward to him, under cover to Mr. Maocwell 
 at Mila7i, a weekly packet of newspapers. 
 These continued to come regularly, and a few 
 days after the visit of the undertaker, Mrs. 
 Maxwell read the following paragraph : — 
 
 " The death of the Earl of Tremordyn, which 
 lately took place at Florence, (though some of 
 our blundering contemporaries have stated that 
 the melancholy event occurred at Rome,) has 
 removed the last male heir of that illustrious 
 house, whose titles and princely wealth devolve, 
 inconsequence, upon the Lady AugustaElizabeth 
 Jean Delaporte, only surviving descendant in 
 the direct line. This is the second time only, 
 since the original patent was granted by King 
 John, to Geoffrey Delaporte, the first earl, that 
 the distinguished privilege by which a female
 
 284 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 keenly remembered. Since last they parted 
 Elizabeth Murray had become an heiress. Her 
 sister Annie died almost immediately after Mrs. 
 Maxwell's last visit to Scotland, of a fever 
 caught at a race-ball, and the uncle who 
 brought them up, followed her to the grave a 
 few months afterwards, leaving to his surviving 
 niece the sum of fifty thousand pounds sterling, 
 in the English funds. 
 
 Miss Murray, therefore, was a person of 
 greatly increased consequence. And was it for 
 this, that she deigned not to reply to the intel- 
 ligence of their desolate misery ? 
 
 Had this idea occurred to the mind of Ca- 
 therine, she would liave rejected it with indig- 
 nation and contempt against herself for having 
 conceived it. But her unhappy mother, with a 
 spirit less fresh in youthful confidence, and less 
 free from self-reproach, conceived the stinging 
 thought, as she lay beside her weeping daugh- 
 ter, and too tenderly careful of poor Catherine's 
 peace to name it, she brooded over it in silence, 
 till it seemed to swallow up and overpower 
 every other source of grief.
 
 TEEMORDVN CLIFF. 285 
 
 Day after day crept on, and still no letter 
 came from her, from any one. They felt as if 
 utterly forgotten and left to perish by that 
 world which had once smiled upon them so 
 kindly. But accident soon proved that even 
 such oblivion might be a blessing. Lord Tre- 
 mordyn had ordered his banker at Lausanne to 
 forward to him, under cover to Mr. Maocwell 
 at Mila7i, a weekly packet of newspapers. 
 These continued to come regularly, and a few 
 days after the visit of the undertaker, Mrs. 
 Maxwell read the following paragraph : — 
 
 " The death of the Earl of Tremordyn, which 
 lately took place at Florence, (though some of 
 our blundering contemporaries have stated that 
 the melancholy event occurred at Rome,) has 
 removed the last male heir of that illustrious 
 house, whose titles and princely wealth devolve, 
 inconsequence, upon the Lady Augusta Elizabeth 
 Jean Delaporte, only surviving descendant in 
 the direct line. This is the second time only, 
 since the original patent was granted by King 
 John, to Geoffrey Delaporte, the first earl, that 
 the distinguished privilege by which a female
 
 286 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 can hold and transmit the title, has been claim- 
 ed. The present countess was born in the year 
 1796. She is said to possess mental and per- 
 sonal accomplishments of the highest order." 
 
 Immediately following the preceding, the eyes 
 of Mrs. Maxwell were greeted with another 
 paragraph, which ran thus. 
 
 " It is reported that the youthful Earl of 
 T y- n, who died some weeks ago in Ita- 
 ly, had formed during his travels a connexion 
 par amour with a young adventuress from the 
 north and canny side of the Tweed. This spe- 
 cious female, who was accompanied by a mo- 
 ther equally immaculate, we presume, as herself, 
 found means, it is said, to insinuate themselves 
 
 into the society of the Lady A D (now 
 
 Countess of T — y — n.) It was her ladyship's 
 discovery of the character of these persons, 
 and of her brother's unfortunate connexion with 
 them, which caused her sudden return to Eng- 
 land, and not, as it has been erroneously report- 
 ed, her wish of being personally present at the 
 decision of the cause now pending in the House 
 of Lords, to which her father and brother were
 
 TREMORDYN CLTFF. 28T 
 
 parties, and which has now become so personally 
 important to herself." 
 
 Had Mrs. Maxwell when she read this, been 
 surrounded as Leonato was, instead of being ttte- 
 u-ttte with her pale Catherine, she might have 
 been tempted to exclaim like him, 
 
 " Has no man's dagger here a point forme ?" 
 
 As it was, she only let the hateful paper drop 
 on the floor, and, and clasping her hands toge- 
 ther over her face, she leant back in her chair 
 without speaking a word. 
 
 " What is it, mamma ? " said Catherine in the 
 voice of a person who seemed prepared for any 
 thing. " Have you read any thing there, to 
 make us more wretched still ? — never mind it, 
 dearest mother, it cannot matter much." 
 
 But notwithstanding this indifference, Ca- 
 therine stooped for the paper as she spoke. 
 
 " Touch it not ! — read it not !'' cried Mrs. 
 Maxwell in agony — " O Catherine, I have de- 
 stroyed thee ! " 
 
 It was at this moment, while Catherine on her 
 knees before her mother was kissing her hands, 
 and trying to speak the hope she felt not, that
 
 288 TEEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 the unwonted noise of carriag-e wheels was heard 
 on the gravel before the castle. The windows 
 of the room commanded a view of the approach, 
 though not of the door, and they saw a plain 
 but handsome English travelling carriage sweep 
 by towards it. 
 
 ''Gracious God! who is this?'' exclaimed 
 the nervous, trembling Mrs. Maxwell. " They 
 are come to drive us from this house, my poor 
 child — O Catherine, where shall we find shel- 
 ter ? I have not enough to keep us in bread, 
 and find a home for this dear head, till Christ- 
 mas !" 
 
 '' It matters not, dear mother " again 
 
 began Catherine, who seemed disposed to seek 
 for strength in despair — when the door of the 
 room was opened by the Italian peasant girl 
 who waited on them, and a lady entered, to 
 whose face the eyes of both mother and daugh- 
 ter were instantly directed with indescribable 
 eagerness. 
 
 " Elizabeth !'"* screamed Catherine, springing 
 on her feet, and throwing her arms round her 
 neck.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 289 
 
 " Good heavens! my niece !''' cried her mo- 
 ther, starting up — and standing apart, she gazed 
 at her with an emotion that seemed half rapture, 
 and half fear. 
 
 Miss Murray either could not, or would not, 
 disengage herself from the arms that clung and 
 twined around her, but stretching out her hand 
 towards the agitated Mrs. Maxwell, she said in 
 a voice tremulous from excess of feelina*. " Do 
 not stand so far off, aunt Maxwell. Thank God 
 I have got to you at last ! Why Kattie, child," 
 (pressing her closely and fondly to her bosom) 
 " will you not let mamma come near me ?'' 
 
 " O dearest Elizabeth ! How can I come near 
 you .P liow bear to look at you.^" cried Mrs. 
 Maxwell — " and yet," she continued while a 
 passionate burst of tears almost choked her 
 voice, " when did I feel one moment's com- 
 fort, till I saw your face ?" 
 
 " And I have known but little, I can tell 
 you, till I saw yours. But look now at this 
 child — why, Catherine, dearest ! .... Kattie ! 
 dear, Kattie ! How very pale she is ! Has my 
 abruptness driven the colour from her cheeks, 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 TRExMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 aunt ? Oh ! do not sob thus, my own sweet 
 Kattie — you will make me sob too — and then 
 how shall I comfort you ?" 
 
 " By staying close to me — by staying and 
 loving my poor dear mother,""* replied Ca- 
 therine, gasping with a sensation that seemed 
 made up of joy and grief — " O my own cou- 
 sin ! my first and dearest friend ! — I care not for 
 them now. Elizabeth, you know us, though no 
 one else may. You know that we are not the 
 low, vile, lost wretches, that they say we are — 
 my own dear cousin ! " 
 
 As Catherine spoke, she continued her fond 
 caresses — repeating again and again, " I fear 
 no one now" — " mamma, we are safe now." 
 
 Miss Murray returned these caresses with af- 
 fection as warm as her own, but terrified at her 
 extreme agitation, she sought to turn the cur- 
 rent of her thoughts, and answered her convul- 
 sive exclamations by repeating gaily, 
 
 " Fear not, sweet wench — Thej shall not touch thee, Kate, 
 I'll buckler thee against a million." 
 
 Miss Murray, though strongly affected, had
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 291 
 
 restrained her tears till she saw the sad, cold, 
 unnatural smile with which poor Catherine lis- 
 tened to this quotation — and then, they soon 
 flowed fast. 
 
 " Ah, dear Elizabeth," said she " you can 
 talk and laugh, and look as bright and happy 
 as you used to do. You do not know all that 
 has happened to us ... . and I am sure I do 
 not know how we shall tell it to you. But you 
 weep already. O Elizabeth, what would you 
 do, if you knew all ? " 
 
 " I do know all, my Catherine — I know all, 
 guess all, that must have happened to you — 
 why else am I here ? Compose your spirits, 
 both of you," she continued, taking a hand of 
 each and making them sit down beside her, " and 
 do not fancy that I am come here without know- 
 ing what I had to expect — and you, dear aunt, 
 reproach not yourself too bitterly. How could 
 one British gentlewoman expect to find a fiend 
 when she made acquaintance with another ? Let 
 the soi-disant countess reign awhile — her usurp- 
 ed coronet shall be torn from off her brows — 
 or never trust me more.** 
 
 o 2
 
 292 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 The effect of these words upon her two au- 
 ditors was very different. The facile temper 
 of Mrs. Maxwell received the prophecy as if it 
 bore the authority of Heaven, and her elastic spi- 
 rits at once rose again, as if all her sorrows were 
 over ; but Catherine looked at her cousin as she 
 uttered it, with the anxious expression that de- 
 notes the wish, without the capacity of com- 
 prehending what we hear. Before the arrival 
 of Miss Murray her mind had settled down 
 into the resolute calmness that often accompa- 
 nies the endurance of sorrow that is inevitable — 
 but these words, together with the unexpected 
 presence of one so dearly loved, produced a re- 
 vulsion of feeling greatly too much for her re- 
 duced strength. She did not faint, nor did any 
 hysterical symptoms indicate the shock her sys- 
 tem had received, but a violent trembling seized 
 her — her lips and nails assumed almost the hue 
 of death, and though she looked backwards and 
 forwards, from her mother to her cousin as they 
 spoke to each other, or asked her questions, 
 there was a painful perplexity in her look, 
 that plainly indicated she was not quite her- 
 self.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 293 
 
 " We must get her to bed, instantly,^' said 
 Miss Murray. " Ring the bell, dear aunt — who 
 have you got with you here ? Is there any one 
 w ho can carry her up stairs ? or shall my ser- 
 vant do it ? " 
 
 Catherine immediately rose from her chair, 
 and at the same time attempted, but very inef- 
 fectually, to assure them she could walk. The 
 convulsive shaking of her teeth made it impos- 
 sible to understand her — but she moved on- 
 ward, though not without difficulty, towards 
 the door, supported by her mother and cousin, 
 and in this manner they got her up stairs and 
 to her bed-chamber. 
 
 It was impossible to mistake the symptoms — 
 Catherine was seized with fever ; and it would 
 be difficult to say which of the two friends that 
 hung over her felt the stronger pang as they 
 watched the involuntary movement of her limbs, 
 and the suffering, though almost unconscious 
 expression of her sweet face. Perhaps it was 
 the one least near in blood, and this from no 
 want of affection in the mother ; but some minds 
 have the power of grasping more at once, both
 
 294 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 of sorrow or of joy, than others, and Miss 
 Murray's was one of them. 
 
 " Who is the physician of highest repute in 
 Milan ? and what are the means by which we 
 can send to him with the least delay V said she, 
 addressing her aunt. 
 
 Though she spoke rapidly, it was in a tone of 
 decision and firmness, which (did not communi- 
 cate themselves to Mrs. Maxwell, but, what was 
 better still) made the anxious mother feel at 
 once that she should be more useful by suffer- 
 ing Elizabeth to manage every thing for her, 
 than by attempting to take the burden of any 
 arrangements upon herself, for which she was 
 as incompetent, from weakened nerves, as from 
 the helplessness of her almost utter destitution 
 of means. 
 
 She immediately answered distinctly to what 
 was distinctly asked, and the consequence was 
 that an able physician stood by Catherine's 
 bed in as short a time as the distance from Mi- 
 lan would permit. Nevertheless, before he 
 reached her, she was perfectly delirious, and he 
 therefore lost whatever information respecting
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 295 
 
 her symptoms she might herself have been able 
 to give. 
 
 Though an Italian, it appeared that French 
 was equally his mother tongue, and he address- 
 ed Mrs. Maxwell in tliat language with a re- 
 quest that she would inform him of all the cir- 
 cumstances which had led to, or at least pre- 
 ceded, her daughter's illness. 
 
 " She has suffered from great anxiety of 
 mind," replied Mrs, Maxwell, in a faltering 
 voice, " and the unexpected arrival of this, 
 lady, a near relation, and her dearest friend, 
 has occasioned her more agitation than she could 
 bear." 
 
 " Has the young lady been accustomed to 
 suffer from nervous affections.^ '' 
 
 " Oh no, sir. Her health has been perfect 
 till within the last few weeks." 
 
 The physician again felt the pulse of his pa- 
 tient — laid his hand upon her burning forehead, 
 and then stood looking earnestly at her, but in 
 silence, for several minutes. 
 
 " Stay here, Peggy, till I return," said Miss 
 ]\lurray, addressing the female servant she had
 
 296 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 brought with her, and who entered at this 
 moment to answer the bell. " Come with me, 
 aunt Maxwell," she continued, " I must speak 
 to you for a moment alone." 
 
 Having reached the room that Mrs. Max- 
 well destined for her guest. Miss Murray 
 startled her by saying — " Have you nothing 
 more to say to the physician, aunt ? .... Have 
 you indeed told him all you know of Cathe- 
 rine's state ? " 
 
 " Indeed I have," she replied, " she has 
 shown no previous symptoms of such an attack 
 whatever." 
 
 " If I have not misunderstood a slight 
 phrase in my poor Catherine's letter, aunt, my 
 cousin is pregnant." 
 
 " Alas ! I fear so," returned Mrs. Maxwell, 
 bursting into tears; " but what use, Elizabeth, 
 would it be to tell him that ? " 
 
 " What use ! . . . . May it not influence his 
 prescriptions ? May not her child be lost by 
 remedies imprudently powerful ? " 
 
 " And can w^e hope in any case to save it ? 
 and O Elizabeth ! how can we regret its loss ?"
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 297 
 
 exclaimed Mrs. Maxwell, covering her eyes 
 with her handkerchief. 
 
 This action prevented her seeing the look her 
 words had brought upon her. Anger and in- 
 dignation darted from the fine dark eyes of 
 Miss Murray, as she replied, " Good God ! 
 Mrs. Maxwell, what do you mean ? Sorry for 
 it .^ . . . . Regret it ? ... Could we regret it .^ 
 The child of Catherine ? — You have lost your 
 
 wits, aunt, to speak thus Think you that 
 
 Elizabeth Murray would be here, if she meant 
 that the grandchild of her grandfather should 
 be trampled in the dust — soiled, shamed, spurn- 
 ed and done to death by the felon woman who 
 usurps the rights of her precious child ? I tliink 
 you might have known me better. No, no, 
 aunt Maxwell, had such been my view of the 
 case, I would not have thrown another brand 
 upon our burning shame, by adding a Murray 
 to a Maxwell in the Italian tale that would be 
 framed upon it. Had I doubted that I could 
 see right done to my Kattie and her child, I 
 would have hid myself in my uncle's old tower 
 on Roscharly crag, and bade her come to die on 
 
 o5
 
 298 TltEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 my bosom there. Go back to her room, aunt 
 Maxwell, and tell the doctor exactly how it is 
 with her — he will then know, that, precious as 
 her dear life is, he must have care for one, if 
 possible more precious still."* 
 
 Once more the buoyant heart of Mrs. Maxwell 
 dilated within her ; nay, for a moment, some- 
 thing like the flutter of gratified vanity was felt 
 at its very centre, as the vision of a coroneted 
 babe flashed before her eyes — yet her spirits 
 failed her at the thought of bavins: to commu- 
 nicate Catherine's situation to the physician. It 
 seemed probable that he might ask her many 
 questions, which she would feel at a loss how 
 to answer, and, in short, she shrunk from the 
 task. 
 
 " Could you do this for me, dearest Eliza- 
 beth ? " she said after the struggle of a minute, 
 and more than half afraid of the contempt she 
 might draw upon herself by her cowardice. 
 
 " Can I ? — O very willingly, my good aunt. 
 
 * The language"*of Miss Murray suffers greatly by being- 
 transmuted from her racy Scotch idiom. But the attempt to 
 preserve it would have been dangerous for a Southern.
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 299 
 
 I thought you might deem the offer meddling, 
 or, trust me, J would have made it." 
 
 So saying, Miss Murray hastened back to the 
 bed-side of Catherine, when she found the doc- 
 tor seated, still occupied by feeling from time 
 to time the fluttering pulse of his patient. 
 " Sir," she began, " my young friend's mother 
 is herself too ill, being greatly agitated by the 
 sudden indisposition of her child, to be able to 
 wait upon you — I have therefore left her to re- 
 pose herself, and undertaken to inform you, of 
 what will probably influence your prescriptions. 
 This young and noble lady, sir, so lately a 
 bride, and so early a widow, is pregnant — and 
 I need hardly tell you that the distinguished 
 family of which she is born, as well as that into 
 which she has married, must be deeply anxious 
 respecting her child.'' 
 
 The physician listened, as it should seem with 
 all his senses at once — for his eyes were ex- 
 panded, his nostrils dilated, and even the extend- 
 ed fingers of his two hands seemed to denote 
 attention. 
 
 Quietly as Lord Tremordyn had lived in
 
 300 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 this remote mansion, his handsome horses, and 
 his expensive purchases had not altogether es- 
 caped the notice of the gossips of Milan. Nei- 
 ther was the arrival of the undertaker by any 
 means a secret ; and since the ostentatious dis- 
 play of the power committed to him for the re- 
 moval of Lord Tremordyn's body, the real 
 name and rank of the tenant at Castel Minore 
 had been generally known throughout the neigh- 
 bourhood. 
 
 The circumstance of the young nobleman's 
 having lived there, under a borrowed name, as 
 well as the rumours which had grown out of 
 the undertaker's liberal communications to all 
 who were able to listen to him, had produced an 
 impression respecting the ladies of the family, 
 strangely at variance with what the words and 
 manner of Miss Murray were calculated to 
 convey. 
 
 The physician gravely re])lied, that whatever 
 the rank of the young lady might be, she 
 should command his best judgment and atten- 
 tion, — " This lady then," he continued after a 
 pause, and fixing a very scrutinizing pair of
 
 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 301 
 
 Italian eyes on the countenance of Miss Mur- 
 ray — " this lady, then, is the widow of the 
 late Earl of Tremordyn ? " 
 
 " She is, sir, and I have travelled hither, 
 nearly from the northern extremity of Britain, 
 for the purpose of withdrawing my relations 
 from a neighbourhood, where the unwise con- 
 cealment of a marriage, deemed imprudent 
 from the extreme youth of both parties, has 
 been made the source of slander and obloquy 
 to a well-born and most virtuous lady — and now 
 I am come, I find that very likely the slander 
 has killed her." 
 
 " Not so, madam, not so. There is fever, 
 but by no means of the worst kind," replied 
 the physician, with an accent of kindness and 
 respect, which spoke as plainly as a long ha- 
 rangue could have done, that his acuteness had 
 discovered truth in the clear proud eye of 
 Miss Murray, and the solution of a very inte- 
 resting mystery in her statement. 
 
 *' Much wrong has indeed been done her," 
 he resumed ; " but I heartily hope she will live 
 to baffle both that and her fever too."
 
 302 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 He then proceeded to give such directions as 
 he considered most likely to procure relief, and 
 agreed to Miss Murray's earnest entreaties 
 that he would pass the night in the castle. 
 For a few hours the harassed patient continued 
 to talk very wildly, and the paleness that seem- 
 ed to have settled on her fair cheek, gave place 
 to a deep carnation, more alarming still ; but 
 the judgment of Dr. Romaldo was honoured by 
 the result, for towards the morning, Catherine 
 fell into a gentle sleep, and when she awoke, 
 the delirium had entirely left her, her head had 
 ceased to ache, and he declared her pulse to be 
 almost as he wished it. 
 
 Nothing more rapidly lays the foundation of 
 kindness, and not unfrequently of friendship, 
 than the assiduous attention of a skilful physi- 
 cian to a dearly loved friend. 
 
 Dr. Romaldo, when he arrived at Castel Mi- 
 nore, firmly believed that he came to visit the 
 mistress of the young English nobleman, whose 
 body had been recently borne with so much fu- 
 neral pomp through Milan on its way to Ge- 
 noa ; and when he left it, he believed as firmly,
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 303 
 
 that it contained his noble, lovely, and most ill- 
 used widow. It would have been almost impos- 
 sible for any man, once convinced of this truth, 
 not to feel deeply interested for Catherine, for 
 her anxious mother, and for the high-spirited, 
 warm-hearted kinswoman, who seemed ready to 
 peril fortune, fame, or life itself, in asserting 
 and defending the rights of her lovely cousin. 
 
 But if the good doctor was prompt to disco- 
 ver, and eager to acknowledge the estimable 
 qualities of the widowed Lady Tremordyn and 
 her friends, Miss Murray was equally so to per- 
 ceive and appreciate the genuine sympathy and 
 benevolent interest felt by the physician, for her 
 unfortunate relatives. During the lingering 
 weakness which attended the convalescence of 
 Catherine, and which proved more difficult 
 to conquer than her fever had been. Dr. Ro- 
 maldo's attentions were more those of an at- 
 tached friend than of a lately known medical 
 practitioner. Notwithstanding the distance from 
 Milan to the castle, his visits were frequent, 
 and always most welcome, so that by the end of 
 six weeks, he felt himself, and was considered
 
 304 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 by them, as an esteemed and intimate ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 Though in coming to Italy Miss Murray had 
 not permitted herself to doubt that, single- 
 lianded and alone, she should be able to dis- 
 cover, defeat, and expose the infamous plot, that 
 she could not but believe had been formed 
 against her cousin, she yet felt that the advice 
 and assistance of a male friend would be very 
 valuable in the business. Accordingly, with 
 the full approbation of Mrs. Maxwell and Ca- 
 therine, she related the whole history of the 
 courtship, marriage, and death of Lord Tre- 
 mordyn, together with the previous conduct of 
 Lady Augusta Delaporte, her departure, and 
 subsequent adoption of the title, to Dr. Romal- 
 do, requesting his counsel as to the best mode of 
 proceeding, in order to obtain such evidence of 
 the marriage, as should be considered as legal 
 proof in England. 
 
 " I trust I may be able to be of some ser- 
 vice to you in this matter," said Romaldo,. 
 eagerly, when Miss Murray's narrative was 
 ended — " I would rather help to expose the
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 305 
 
 deep-laid treachery of this fearful woman, and 
 restore the dear young lady to her rights, than 
 be made physician in ordinary to the Pope. I 
 have a nephew who is settled as an advocate at 
 Geneva — whom I have sometimes thought was 
 a better lawyer then I wished him to be — but 
 with his chicane we shall have nothing to do — 
 and his shrewdness may be very useful.'' 
 
 " It may indeed," said Miss Murray ; '* it 
 isjustsucha person as this that I shall want 
 to help my researches at Geneva. What is your 
 nephew's name, doctor ? I will write it in my 
 pocket-book." 
 
 " Verneiulle — his father is Swiss — Verneiulle, 
 Hue de la Monnaie, a Geneve. You will find 
 him excellent as a ferret. If there be any indi- 
 vidual in the canton that you wish to discover, 
 I think I can engage that M. Victor Verneiulle, 
 shall find him for you.'" 
 
 '* Excellent ! — there are two that I must 
 find ; first, the English clergyman who married 
 my cousin, and secondly, his clerk. Do you 
 think. Dr. Romaldo, that your patient will be 
 5>trong enough to set out upon a journey next 
 week?'^
 
 300 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 " A journey to Geneva, Miss Murray ? — It 
 must be made slowly and with the greatest 
 care," he replied. 
 
 " To Geneva, doctor ? — yes, certainly, she 
 must go to Geneva ; but this is but a small 
 portion of the journey I propose for her. I 
 trust I shall be able to take her immediately to 
 England." 
 
 " Impossible, madam," said the physician, 
 starting from his seat with great vivacity. 
 " Let me see your aunt. Miss Murray, and I 
 can make her perfectly understand why Lady 
 Tremordyn must not think of undertaking 
 such a journey as you propose. Good Heaven, 
 my dear lady, it might endanger the existence 
 of her child, and her own too."" 
 
 " Then, assuredly, the journey shall not be 
 made, doctor," replied Miss Murray, in a tone 
 perfectly decided, but at the same time with 
 some mixture of vexation in it. " I had hoped," 
 she continued, " to have immediately taken her 
 back, dear soul, to her own land, where all that 
 she has suffered here should have been for-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 307 
 
 " And you shall do so yet, my dear Miss 
 Murray," rejoined Roraaldo cheerfully, " and 
 that under happier auspices than the present. 
 Take time enough for it, and I think she may 
 get to Geneva in safety. Her business there is 
 too important to be delayed — but go no far- 
 ther till her child be born.''
 
 308 TKEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " Be patient, and I will stay." — Shakspeare. 
 
 When this conversation was repeated to Mrs. 
 Maxwell and Catherine, they both turned an 
 anxious glance towards Miss Murray, as if to 
 read in her face whether it were her intention 
 to return to Scotland without them. She per- 
 fectly understood the appeal, and pausing for 
 a moment to see if they would do more than 
 look the question, she answered it by kneel- 
 ing down beside the sofa on which Catherine 
 lay, and saying almost with solemnity, " My 
 Kattie ! when you were the very emblem of 
 hope and joy — when the world smiled upon 
 you, and all the business of life was but to 
 smile upon it in return, even then, I would have
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 309 
 
 given up any thing hut my country^ rather than 
 have parted with you — but now, Kattie — that I 
 have seen you, sad and sorrowful — there is 
 nothing that can part us more. Your country 
 must be my country, and where you are there 
 will I be, through good report and ill report, 
 through sorrow and sickness — and were it need- 
 ful, through shame — even unto death." 
 
 Elizabeth did not finish these words without 
 shedding tears — those of Catherine and her mo- 
 ther flowed abundantly ; but there are tears 
 which bring more satisfaction than the gayest 
 smiles, and " these were of them." 
 
 About ten days after Miss Murray's conver- 
 sation with Dr. Romaldo, the three ladies set 
 off for Geneva in her travelling carriage ; her 
 male and female servants being well packed up 
 in cloaks, on the outside of it, and every possi- 
 ble precaution against cold w^eather and fatigue 
 provided for within. 
 
 Most scrupulously were the orders of the 
 physician obeyed as to their mode of travelling, 
 so that in fact each day's journey was hardly 
 more than a morning's drive, and they reached
 
 310 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 the place of their destination, without its being 
 possible for the anxious eyes that watched her, 
 to fancy that they perceived any traces of fa- 
 tigue or indisposition in Catherine. 
 
 On the following morning Miss Murray dis- 
 patched her servant to la Rue de la Monnaie, 
 with a letter to M. Victor Verneiulle from his 
 uncle, together with a note from herself, re- 
 questing him to do her the favour of calling on 
 her at his earliest convenience. 
 
 An answer was immediately returned, that he 
 would wait upon her in half an hour ; and ac- 
 cordingl}^ in half an hour precisely, M. Victor 
 Verneiulle was announced. Mrs. Maxwell and 
 her daughter immediately retired, as had been 
 previously agreed amongst them, leaving Miss 
 Murray to explain what the service was which 
 she required of him, without any interruption 
 whatever. 
 
 M. Verneiulle listened with profound and 
 truly professional attention ; never breaking in 
 upon the thread of her narrative, excepting oc- 
 casionally to ask a question extremely to the 
 point. V^hen she had ended he said-—" I can
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 311 
 
 hardly conceive it possible, madam, that such a 
 ceremony as you describe, having been performed 
 in the face of day, by an authorized English 
 clergyman, to say nothing of the clerk, (who no 
 more than his principal could have any reason 
 to conceal it) — I cannot, I say, believe it possible, 
 that we shall find any difficulty in being able to 
 procure substantial proof that it has taken place." 
 
 " Indeed it should seem so," replied Miss 
 Murray, who was too well pleased with the 
 lawyer's opinion, to quarrel either with his sharp 
 and restless eyes, or his creaking voice. " Would 
 you wish, sir," she added, " to ask any ques- 
 tions of my cousin. Lady Tremordyn .''" 
 
 '' I shall certainly wish to see her, if you 
 please — I think you told me that she was already 
 in Geneva.'*" 
 
 " She is in the next room, sir. She has been 
 greatly indisposed of late, and I should wish 
 her to be as little agitated as possible." 
 
 The lawyer promised the utmost discretion, 
 and Miss Murray herself went to summon his 
 client. 
 
 *' Fear nothing, dearest ! " said she, as she
 
 312 TRP:MORDyN CLIFF. 
 
 drew Catherine's arm within her own ; " M. 
 Victor Verneiulle is certainly, as his uncle says, 
 a very sharp little fellow — he seems to see the 
 way before him already. Come, aunt Maxwell, 
 perhaps he may have something to say to you 
 too." 
 
 The three ladies entered ; and M. Victor 
 bowed sufficiently low to the young countess, to 
 prove that the rights he was employed to sus- 
 tain were by no means without value in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " Will madame have the kindness to inform 
 me," he began, " the exact date of the mar- 
 riage it is our business to prove ? " 
 
 " It took place, sir, on the 30th of last Au- 
 gust." M. Verneiulle registered the date on his 
 tablets. 
 
 " And the place, madam ?" 
 
 " I think it is called the English chapel, — it 
 was in this city." 
 
 " Very good. And the clergyman — do you 
 know his name, madam ?^^ 
 
 " No, sir, I do not." 
 
 '• Can you describe him to me.^"
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 313 
 
 " Very easily — for his person was so remark- 
 able that even at that moment, I could not fail 
 to notice it. He was rather a young man, not 
 more than thirty, I should think — extremely 
 tall and thin, with " 
 
 '' Red hair, and marked with the small pox," 
 interrupted the little lawyer. " Is it not so, 
 madam .^" 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied Catherine, colouring 
 with pleasure. " It is clear that you know 
 him, sir/' 
 
 '^ Know him ! There is no one, I believe, in 
 Geneva who does not. If all the members of 
 the reformed church are like Mr. Wilcox, for 
 that is his name, I doubt if Luther would own 
 them. I believe we reckon him here about the 
 most complete mauvais sujet that ever ventured 
 to make our moral city his residence."*' 
 
 " A very fit instrument for Lady Augusta 
 Delaporte to tamper with,"*' observed Miss Mur- 
 ray. " Where is this man to be met with, sir.?" 
 
 M. Verneiulle rubbed his chin for half a 
 minute, and then replied, " It is not more than 
 a week or ten days ago that I heard something 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 314 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 about him — but at this moment I can hardly 
 remember what. He has for some time past 
 been playing deeply with a set of young Eng- 
 lishmen. I think I heard that he had won 
 largely." 
 
 " There will be no difficulty in finding him, 
 I presume ? " said Mrs. Maxwell. 
 
 " I should think not — at any rate, if he be 
 in Geneva, or its neighbourhood, I shall be able 
 to get at him. What persons were present at 
 the marriage, madame .^" 
 
 " Lady Augusta Delaporte, who was the sis- 
 ter and sole guardian of I^ord Tremordyn, this 
 Mr. Wilcox, and a young man who officiated as 
 his clerk," replied Catherine. 
 
 " A certificate of the marriage was of course 
 required from Mr. Wilcox ?"" 
 
 " It was, sir — Lord Tremordyn asked for it, 
 and the clergyman immediately made a copy 
 from his entry in the register." 
 
 " And who signed this ? " 
 
 " The clergyman himself, Lady Augusta De- 
 laporte, and the clerk." 
 
 *' The clergyman signed it ? . . . . Then may
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 315 
 
 I ask how it happened that madame did not 
 observe his name ?*" 
 
 " I never looked at the certificate," replied 
 Catherine, blushing, '• nor did Lord Tremor- 
 dyn either. It was Lady Augusta Delaporte 
 who received it from the hands of the clergy- 
 man, and it has been in her possession ever 
 since." 
 
 " That matters but little,'' observed the 
 lawyer with an expressive grimace, " the same 
 register that was copied for her, may be copied 
 for us. The thing is so plain and the blunder 
 of your not taking the certificate yourself, so 
 easily rectified, that I confess to you, ladies, I 
 begin to suspect that there must be some little 
 mistake as to the motive of the noble lady you 
 mention, in retaining this certificate. There 
 may have been some coolness among the parties, 
 some shyness of intercourse, perhaps — but it ap- 
 pears to me quite impossible that she can hope 
 to prevent the proving this marriage, however 
 much she may wish to do so." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell looked delighted, and Cathe- 
 rine too turned towards her cousin with a ra- 
 
 p2
 
 316 
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 diant smile ; but Miss Murray did not appear 
 to share their satisfaction. 
 
 " I have no doubt," said she, '• that we 
 shall get through this crooked business at last — 
 but it will not be by discovering that the inten- 
 tions of Lady Augusta have been righteous, or 
 that she has blundered so egregiously as M. 
 Verneiulle seems to suppose. We must remem- 
 ber, sir, that it will not suffice to prove the mar- 
 riage ceremony to have been read, even by a 
 clergyman and in a chapel, to these young peo- 
 ple. To make it a lawful marriage in England, 
 and to entitle the fruit of it to inherit the rank 
 and possessions of Lord Tremordyn, we must 
 prove that the consent of their legal guardians 
 was previously obtained, to the marriage.*" 
 
 *' If so, madam," observed the young lawyer 
 rather disconcerted, " I fear there are more 
 difficulties in your way than I was aware of." 
 
 " None that we shall find insurmountable, 
 M. Verneiulle, if you perform your promise of 
 finding this Mr. Wilcox for us. It strikes me 
 that Lady Augusta Delaporte added one link 
 to the chain of petty artifices, with which she
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 317 
 
 liad bound my cousin, that was both unsafe and 
 unnecessary. She should have contrived some 
 pretext for not entering the chapel with her. A 
 copy of the registry of the marriage, and the 
 deposition of the clergyman and the clerk, (both 
 or either,) that Lady Augusta was present at 
 the ceremony Avill, I believe, be sufficient to esta- 
 blish all the proof we want." 
 
 The lawyer listened to her very attentively, 
 and then said, " Upon my word, madam, you 
 appear to understand the business you are upon 
 admirably. I honour you, madam, for the 
 clearness of your perceptions. It is a pleasure 
 to act with, and for, persons whose own acute- 
 ness can make them value that of others. I 
 trust you will find me not unworthy of acting 
 with you. And now I will take my leave. I 
 plainly see what I have to do — and I flatter 
 myself that it will be done well. At this hour 
 to-morrow, ladies — will that suit you ? — at this 
 hour to-morrow, I will have the honour of wait- 
 ing on you to report what I shall have done in 
 the interval." 
 
 M. Victor Verneiulle departed, and the ladies
 
 318 TKEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 were left to talk over the important business 
 the}^ had before them. 
 
 To find herself at Geneva, the place where 
 poor Tremordyn had received her hand with 
 such rapturous gratitude — the place where she 
 had been embraced by Lady Augusta as her 
 sister, and whence she had seen her depart with 
 such unsuspecting confidence, was quite enough 
 to fill the heart and head of Catherine with sad 
 and bitter thoughts. Miss Murray saw this, 
 and as much to counteract the effect of such 
 meditations as with any hope of obtaining new 
 information, she led her to narrate every parti- 
 cular of that eventful day, and to describe 
 every word, and almost every look, of the trea- 
 cherous being whom she had so blindly trusted. 
 
 In such discourse, and in the commentaries 
 and conjectures which naturally grew out of it, 
 they passed the day. The following morning 
 broke upon them with renewed interest, and 
 anxious expectation. M. VerneiuUe was not 
 quite punctual to his appointment, but in about 
 an hour after the time named he appeared. 
 The first glance at his sharp intelligent features
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 319 
 
 was discouraging. He wasted above a minute, 
 and it seemed an hour, in separate bows and 
 compliments. 
 
 Miss Murray could stand this no longer. 
 
 " Pray, sir, sit down," she said, in an accent 
 in which impatience was perhaps as perceptible 
 as civility. " You have not found Mr. Wilcox r 
 Is it not so, M. VerneiuUe ?" 
 
 *' I have not," was the discouraging reply, 
 " nor do I believe," he continued, " that he is 
 to be found in this country. 1 was right in 
 stating that he had been winning a considerable 
 sum at the gaming table, but I now learn that 
 suspicions of foul play were conceived by one 
 of the party, and within twenty-four hours after 
 this was hinted, Mr. Wilcox had left Geneva, 
 leaving no trace, as far as I can yet learn, of 
 what quarter of the globe he may have chosen 
 for his retreat."''' 
 
 The silence of a moment followed this state- 
 ment, which was broken by Miss Murray. 
 
 ".This is unfortunate," she said, " but mea- 
 sures must be taken to trace his route — spare 
 no expense, sir. It is probable that he is gone
 
 320 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 to Paris; under such circumstances he would 
 hardly risk returning to his own country. Let 
 the head of the Paris police be immediately in- 
 formed of his evasion, and of the necessity of 
 detaining him. This, with an accurate descrip- 
 tion of his person, should be forwarded by ex- 
 press, without an hour's delay. Do you not 
 think so, sir .?'' 
 
 *• Decidedly, madam. And it is the more 
 necessary as it is evident to me that he has com- 
 mitted a crime here, which makes him infinitely 
 more amenable to the laws than any of his 
 gambling mal-practices. I think, madam," he 
 continued, turning to Catherine, " you informed 
 me yesterday that you saw an entry of your 
 marriage made in the register of the English 
 chapel of this city ?" 
 
 " I certainly did," replied Catherine. 
 
 " Then must this precious minister, who has 
 had the custody of the register till within these 
 two days, have expunged the record, for no 
 such entry is to be found." 
 
 " Then God help me !" exclaimed Catherine, 
 ' for I seem shut out from right and justice on 
 every side."
 
 TRE.MORDYN CLIFF. 321 
 
 Miss Murray turned extremely pale, and 
 Mrs. Maxwell clasped her hands together in a 
 manner that seemed to indicate despair. 
 
 " This register," said Miss Murray, recover- 
 ing herself,'' is less important than the evidence 
 of the clergyman himself. Observe, M. Ver- 
 neiulle, I am ready immediately to sign a pro- 
 missory note for five hundred pounds sterling, to 
 be paid to any agent who shall cause the safe 
 detention of Mr. Wilcox." 
 
 The keen eyes of the lawyer seemed to emit 
 a spark. 
 
 '* Fear not, madam ; your liberality shall not 
 be in vain. It is pretty well known in our pro- 
 fession that money can do almost any thing 
 
 The peculiar appearance of Mr. Wilcox is 
 greatly in our favour, and .... in short, madam, 
 I have little doubt but that we shall succeed in 
 finding him . There must, however, be no delay, 
 and I will therefore wish you good morning." 
 
 Mr. Victor Verneiulle then left the room, but 
 before he had fully closed the door behind him, 
 he appeared again within it, and, after a mo- 
 ment's hesitation, said to Miss Murray, " The 
 
 p5
 
 322 TREMORDV'N CLIFF. 
 
 expenses, madam ? .... These may be consi- 
 derable. They are not, I presume, to be de- 
 ducted from the five hundred pounds so libe- 
 rally offered as a reward ?" 
 
 " Certainly not, sir,"" replied Miss Murray ; 
 on which the lawyer again retreated, but she 
 followed to the top of the stairs, and whispered 
 something in his ear respecting a farther reward 
 to be paid as soon as Lady Tremordyn's mar- 
 riage should be legally proved, that sent him 
 bounding down them, and out of the house, 
 with an activity which argued well for the 
 cause. 
 
 This day wore away with fewer gleams of 
 the sunshine of hope than the last ; they had 
 not even an appointment for the morrow to look 
 forward to, and it required all Miss Murray's 
 strength of mind, and all the confidence Mrs. 
 Maxwell and Catherine placed in it, to get them 
 through it with tolerable equanimity. 
 
 The next day was perhaps worse still, for it 
 passed without any visit from M. Verneiulle ; 
 but the ensuing morning was most agreeably 
 cheered by seeing him appear witli a counte-
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 323 
 
 nance absolutely radiant with success. With- 
 out compliment or ceremony of any kind, he 
 burst into the room, exclaiming, " I have found 
 the clerk — an intelligent young man — excellent 
 character —well-known, unimpeachable witness." 
 
 " Thank God !"" exclaimed the three ladies 
 in a breath. 
 
 '* I must bring him to you," resumed M. 
 V^erneiullcj eagerly, *' I have told him that you 
 will be ready to see him at two o'clock to-day. '"* 
 
 It will be readily beheved that no objection 
 was made to this arrangement. At two o'clock 
 precisely the lawyer re-appeared bringing with 
 him a very decent-looking young man, whom at 
 the first glance, Catherine recognised as the 
 person who had both officiated as clerk and given 
 her away on the day of her marriage. He re- 
 turned her salutation with a smile of recogni- 
 tion, at the sight of which Mr. Victor Ver- 
 neiulle rubbed his hands in ecstasy. 
 
 ** Now then, my Lady Tremordyn, nov/ then, 
 my good friend Johnson, (Johnson is your 
 name, I think,) we must compare notes a little.
 
 324 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 — Perhaps, my lady, I can assist you, by put- 
 ting a few of the most important questions ?"" 
 Catherine bowed assent. 
 
 " Well, Johnson, you remember this young 
 lady, do you not ?'''' 
 " Perfectly, sir ^ 
 " When did you see her before ?" 
 " On the day that she was married at the 
 English chapel in this town." 
 
 " That's well. And what other persons did 
 you see at the same time.f^ Those who came 
 with her, I mean. You could remember these 
 too, I suppose — could you not ?" 
 
 " Certainly I could, sir. There were only 
 two. One was the young gentleman she was 
 married to, and the other was her mother." 
 
 " No, no— not h€7' mother, but his sister, 
 Johnson. What put it into your head that the 
 lady was madame's mother ?"'' 
 
 " I beg 'your pardon, sir, but I think there 
 must be some mistake about the party you are 
 inquiring for. And yet I remember this lady 
 particularly well. Your mamma thought you
 
 TREMORDYN OLIFF. 325 
 
 was fainting, did she not, ma'am ? And she 
 sent the gentleman away for a carriage. I re- 
 member it all perfectly." 
 
 " You are only mistaken, Mr. Johnson, in 
 supposing the lady to have been my mother, '^ 
 said Catherine. '* That lady is my mother," 
 pointing to Mrs. Maxwell. 
 
 " I cannot understand it then," answered the 
 young man ; " for the lady who was present at 
 the marriage was, I think, the same widow lady 
 that sent for me to the Bellevue Hotel, about 
 a week before, to inquire about the clergyman, 
 and to arrange the day and hour he was to 
 meet the party at the chapel, and she told me 
 she was the bride's mother." 
 
 "A widow lady I" exclaimed Mrs. Max- 
 well. " What made you suppose she was a 
 widow ?" 
 
 " Because she wore a widow's dress. She 
 told me it was her daughter who was to be 
 married." 
 
 " She did not wear the widow's dress the day 
 I was married," observed Catherine. 
 
 " No, ma'am ; she was dressed entirely in
 
 326 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 white, in honour of the wedding, I suppose : 
 but she had something the matter with her 
 face, for it was so tied up that it was impossible 
 to see it ; and after you went away, Mr. Wil- 
 cox said, " I wonder who that old lady is — I 
 thought the young l?dy''s mother was to come 
 with them ;' and I told him then, that I was 
 almost sure it was the same — though novv' you 
 are all so positive against it, I take it that I 
 was mistaken." 
 
 " You could not then swear to the person of 
 the lady who was present at the marriage.'^'' said 
 VerneiuUe, hastily. 
 
 " No, sir, I certainly could not; and espe- 
 cially now that these ladies so positively assure 
 me, she was not the same widow lady who 
 settled the business before hand." 
 
 " Stay, Mr. Johnson," exclaimed Miss Mur- 
 ray, eagerly, *' you are mistaken again ; these 
 ladies feel quite sure that the lady who arrang- 
 ed the marriage with Mr. Wilcox, and with 
 you, and the one who was present at the cere- 
 mony, are the same person. Pray do not puz- 
 zle yourself on this point."
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 327 
 
 " I can't help being puzzled, ma'am," re- 
 plied Johnson, with frank simplicity ; " you tell 
 me to recollect all I can about a person that I 
 remember perfectly well, but tell me at the 
 same time that all I say about her is wrong. 
 
 '' No, Mr. Johnson, there is nothing wrong,'' 
 said Miss Murray, " excepting that the lady in 
 question has evidently been endeavouring to dis- 
 guise herself; but I trust that your testimony 
 will suffice to render this attempt as vain as it is 
 wicked." 
 
 " I am afraid not, ma'am," replied the young 
 man, looking very grave. " Nothing should 
 tempt me to take an oath that I was not sure 
 and certain was true, and the more I think of it, 
 the more I feel aware that I ought not to swear 
 to the person of the old lady who was at the 
 wedding. It is a very different thing to think 
 one should remember a person, and to swear to 
 them. You must recollect, ma'am," he con- 
 tinued, turning to Catherine, " how very much 
 the old lady was wrapped up about the face ; 
 the only thing that made me so positive it was
 
 328 TKEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 the same widow lady was her tallness, and her 
 voice." 
 
 " You could swear to her voice then ?" saitl 
 Verneiulle, coaxingly. 
 
 " I should be loath to do that, sir," replied 
 the really conscientious young man, " especially 
 after hearing so few words from her. For you 
 see, sir, after all, it might be as much because 
 she said she would be at the wedding, as for 
 any real likeness in her voice, or shape either, 
 that put it into my head to fancy she was the 
 same person I had seen before." 
 
 The truth of this, and the utter incompetency 
 of Johnson as a witness, became equally and 
 most painfully evident to them all. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell covered her eyes with her 
 hands, Catherine hid her face on the bosom of 
 her mother ; M. Verneiulle uttered a sharp 
 oath, and Miss Murray sat with her eyes fixed, 
 as if looking on vacancy, or rather as if she 
 were mentally contemplating something greatly 
 beyond the ken of any of them. 
 
 The silence of a minute followed the last
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 329 
 
 words spoken by Johnson, which was broken 
 by M. Verneiulle, who again addressing him, 
 said, 
 
 " What was the name of the widow lady 
 who sent to you to meet her at the Bellevue 
 Hotel r 
 
 " I think it was Maxwell, sir — Mrs. Max- 
 well." 
 
 '* Gracious heaven !" exclaimed the real 
 owner of the name, " how perfect seems to be 
 the net in which she has entrapped us !"' 
 
 " Not so perfect perhaps, aunt Maxwell, but 
 that some mesh may fail,'' said Miss Murray. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, ladies," interrupted the 
 lawyer, " but permit me to ask another ques- 
 tion. Fray Mr. Johnson, do you remember 
 to have seen the entry made in the register of 
 the chapel ?" 
 
 " I remember to have seen Mr. Wilcox 
 write something in the register, but I did not 
 see what it was." 
 
 " Did not you sign the copy of it, which was 
 given by Mr. Wilcox, as a certificate of the 
 marriage ?"
 
 330 TilEMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 '* Yes, sir, I did." 
 
 " And did you do so, without knowing what 
 you signed ?" 
 
 " I can hardly say that, sir, as I could not 
 help feeling certain that it was a certificate of 
 the marriage— but I certainly did not read it." 
 
 " Who was the last person who signed it ?"" 
 
 " I think I was, sir." 
 
 '* And you did not read the other names ?" 
 
 " No sir, T did not .... I think I remem- 
 ber seeing the minister'^s name which was next 
 above my own, but I read no other." 
 
 " You don't seem to be troubled with much 
 curiosity, Mr. Johnson ?'' 
 
 '' I never feel any curiosity, sir, about what 
 can be of no use to me." 
 
 " Very well, sir; you may go now." 
 
 The young Englishman made a silent bow, 
 and departed. 
 
 The severe check which the hopes of the 
 ])arty he left had experienced, was not destined 
 to be removed by any effort that M. Victor 
 VerneiuUe could make. And yet, to do him 
 justice, it was not from the want of either
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 331 
 
 energy or acuteness on his part that all his ex- 
 ertions in the cause proved vain. The only 
 circumstance which at all tended to revive these 
 hopes, was the information received from an 
 agent he had employed at Paris — in fact, one 
 of the cleverest satellites of its police, that he 
 felt confident of having traced Mr. Wilcox by 
 the remarkable peculiarities of his personal 
 appearance, but that his name, as registered 
 from his passport, was Williams, and that 
 finding him in the society of several Eng- 
 lishmen of distinguished rank, he could only 
 promise to keep his eye upon him till some 
 authority could be obtained for his detention. 
 
 When this news reached Verneiulle, he 
 shrewdly enough conceived the idea of inciting 
 some one of the set he had left at Geneva, 
 whom he knew were muttering impotent threats 
 of vengeance against the man who had ruined 
 them, to pursue him to Paris— himself pro- 
 mising to pay the expenses — being very sure 
 that he could no where find a more active or 
 competent agent. This scheme was immediately 
 acted upon, but it failed totally. When the
 
 332 TREMOKDYN CLIFF. 
 
 person so employed reached Paris, and ad- 
 dressed himself to the officer of police above> 
 mentioned, he was told that Mr. Williams had 
 quitted Paris in company with an English 
 nobleman about a week before, but without 
 having his passport vise. As they went direct 
 to the chateau of one of the French ministers, 
 it was supposed that it was only for the purpose 
 of joining the festivities that were going on 
 there, and that he would return to Paris in a 
 day or two. 
 
 Days and weeks however elapsed, and Mr. 
 Williams, or Wilcox, or whatever his real name 
 might be, did not reappear. The employ t, 
 who, as he said, had served the state in better 
 times, confessed liis inability to trace him farther, 
 adding, with an oath, " If we do not conde- 
 scend, and that pretty soon, to adopt some of 
 the measures, we have discarded, for following 
 rogues into the presence (if it were needful) of 
 the king himself, France will become another 
 Botany Bay, and its boasted police a regiment 
 of straw." 
 
 Verneiulle now acknowledged that he knew not
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 333 
 
 what next to propose ; hinting, at the same time, 
 that though untoward circumstances had dis- 
 appointed him of the success his zeal merited, 
 and thereby of the reward Miss Murray had so 
 liberally promised, he hoped the time and 
 trouble which the affair had cost him would not 
 go unrequited. 
 
 This demand was easily satisfied, and M. 
 Victor Verneiulle dismissed. 
 
 What was now left to be done ? Three 
 months had worn away since the arrival of Miss 
 Murray at Castel Minore, and she could not 
 disguise from herself, that, except from the com- 
 fort her presence afforded, and the pecuniary 
 assistance she was fortunately so well able to 
 lend, the position of her beloved cousin was in 
 no degree improved by any thing she had done 
 for her. 
 
 The situation of Catherine was every day be- 
 coming more critical. She was now in the 
 sixth month of her pregnancy, and it was abso- 
 lutely necessary to decide where her confine- 
 ment should take place. Geneva appeared to 
 be peculiarly unpleasant to her, nor did either
 
 334 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 
 
 her mother or Miss Murray feel any wish to 
 make a longer residence in a place where they 
 had experienced nothing but anxiety and dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 The year's lease of Castel Minore had still 
 six months to run, and it was finally determined 
 that t1:iey should establish themselves there till 
 after her confinement. Miss Murray's purpose 
 was then to return with them to England, and 
 there take the first legal opinions upon the best 
 method of making good the claims of her 
 cousin's child against Lady Augusta Delaporte. 
 
 The only person besides her aunt and cousin 
 to whom she made her intentions and still sted- 
 fast hopes known, was her half-brother, Colonel 
 Murray. To him she detailed every particular 
 of what had passed, so clearly and so fully, as 
 to make him as much au fait of the circum- 
 stances as herself. To this statement she added 
 a declaration of her fixed purpose to continue 
 with Catherine till her fate was decided, and 
 concluded by telling him, that if it should hap- 
 pen that the necessity of visiting his estates in 
 Fifeshire brought him to England immediately,
 
 TREMORDYN CLIFF. 335 
 
 (as his steward had assured her it ought to do,) 
 his coming at this time would be a blessing 
 indeed. 
 
 We must now, for a time, take leave of Ca- 
 therine, her mother, and her devoted friend, 
 while we follow Lady Augusta Delaporte to 
 England. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 IBOTS.O.V AND PAl.UER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRt.ND.
 
 UNlVER8rrY0FlLL.r.w.=- 
 
 3 0112 078027981^