1 I E> RAHY 
 
 OF THE 
 UN IVLRSITY 
 Of ILLI NOI5 
 
 v.i
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/agathabeaufortor01elli
 
 IV 
 
 ' 
 
 \
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT; 
 
 FAMILY PRIDE
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT; 
 
 FAMILY PKIDE 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF " PIQUE." 
 
 Her name was Beauty — of a skin 
 Ne swarte, ne browne — this fair ladye 
 Like Luna shone, outglittering 
 The stars — so she all rivalrie. 
 
 Rommant de la Host. 
 
 VOL. I. , 
 
 LONDON: 
 SMITH, ELDER, AND CO., 65 CORNHILL. 
 
 1852.
 
 Printed by Oliver & B , 
 Tweeddale Court, High Street, Edinburgh,
 
 v.l 
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT; 
 
 OR, 
 
 FAMILY PRIDE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Few parts of England excel the midland county 
 
 of W shire in picturesque beauty, or present to 
 
 the tourist's eye such agreeable diversity of landscape. 
 The district also claims historical interest of no 
 common description ; for its castles, churches, woods, 
 and hills, are all associated with the history of 
 the past. Almost every span of ground recalls 
 visions of royal pageants, and magnificent cavalcades 
 of olden times, when many of the monarchs of Eng- 
 land made its woodlands echo to the shrill note of 
 the huntsman's bugle ; or, again, of the days when 
 the air resounded with the martial din of war, as armies 
 in gallant array advanced to the assault of those 
 VOL. i. A
 
 proud fortresses, whose giant ruins still remain in 
 their stately beauty, memorials of the wealth and 
 power of their princely founders. 
 
 To this day the county is rich in spacious, curious 
 old mansions, constructed with those quaint contri- 
 vances, to combine comfort with magnificence, which 
 distinguish the domestic architecture of the Marian 
 and Elizabethan periods. Most of these venerable 
 mansions have been handed down in direct suc- 
 cession to their present owners, from ancestors who 
 mingled in the busy scenes of feudal pomp and 
 splendour ; many of whom, likewise, found a glorious 
 death, fighting bravely for church, state, or king, in 
 one or other of the bloody feuds which, at divers 
 periods of our history, converted the length and 
 breadth of this fair realm into one huge battle-field. 
 
 Such, at least, is the solemn testimony borne by 
 many a church in the county. Scarcely can one be 
 entered, however humble, without feeling that there 
 the startling reality of the message proclaiming 
 man's frailty, and the nothingness of worldly 
 grandeur, strikes home with peculiar awe, as the 
 eye rests on the lordly banners and escutcheons 
 that adorn its walls ; while soon, from these faded 
 relics of human greatness, the glance falls on
 
 OE FAMILY PEIDE. 3 
 
 the gorgeous tomb beneath, with its mailed effigy, 
 under which repose the remains of that potent war- 
 rior whose valour won the trophies drearily shadow- 
 ing his last resting-place. 
 
 Claiming thus, as children of her soil, some of 
 the highest and most ancient families of that illus- 
 trious commonage, at once the pride and boast of 
 England, the memories of olden days cling with 
 
 strange tenacity to the county of W shire. 
 
 Gleams of the old faith — relics of priestly tyranny 
 and dark superstition, long since swept away — haunt 
 her beautiful valleys. More than one noble mansion 
 there, has still its Romish chapel attached, fair and 
 imposing to behold in external pomp and decoration ; 
 and the sound of the convent vesper-bell oft-times 
 steals on the ear, floating in musical cadence on the 
 bosom of the soft breeze, as daylight fades away, 
 blending in shadowy hues the outlines of the distant 
 hills. 
 
 In one of the sunniest and most lovely dells in 
 this fairest of counties lay the little secluded village 
 of Woodthorpe. From early spring until the sear 
 hand of autumn cast a many-coloured mantle over 
 the leaves and verdure, its vales and meadows were 
 enamelled with fragrant wild flowers : wood ane-
 
 4 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 mones, violets, primroses, cowslips, showy field-pop- 
 pies, and woodbines, followed each other in rapid 
 and brilliant succession. Then the wild luxuriance 
 of its thickets of hawthorn and eglantine, showering 
 a profusion of pink and white blossoms on the 
 green banks beneath, was refreshing to behold. 
 The small gardens, also, attached to the cottages, 
 were models of trim neatness, and formed a gay 
 border on either side of the village street ; while 
 roses and clematis twined in graceful festoons over 
 the porches and roofs, until during the summer sea- 
 son the little village appeared literally embowered in 
 sweets. 
 
 The population of Woodthorpe amounted to about 
 two hundred persons, most of whom were in toler- 
 ably easy circumstances in life ; either farming on 
 their own account, or labourers in daily employ on 
 the estate of Sir James Somerton, owner of the vil- 
 lage and the adjoining land for several miles around 
 it. Woodthorpe Park was one of those magnificent 
 residences seen only in England, and there even 
 rarely. The mansion, stately, and of enormous ex- 
 tent, remained with its dark grey stone untouched 
 by stucco, or modern improvement of any kind, em- 
 bosomed in woods, the growth of centuries. No
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 5 
 
 daring hand had been suffered unduly to lop away, 
 or fetter within the bounds of formal trimness, 
 the luxuriant vegetation which reigned everywhere 
 throughout the park. Nature there followed her 
 own devices ; consequently, no park in the kingdom 
 •could boast of richer woodland scenery, shadier 
 groves, or brighter expanses of greensward, than 
 that, of Woodthorpe. 
 
 The village lay about a mile from the mansion, 
 almost, in fact, comprehended within the limits of 
 the park ; for tall avenues of trees extended beyond 
 the iron gates opening on the green ; while the 
 church and neat parsonage stood actually within 
 its precincts. Eows of oaks and sycamores skirted 
 the village street 5 and for some two miles along the 
 high road, park palings and dark woods imparted 
 to the scenery an air of sombre grandeur and se- 
 clusion ; while every now and then sudden breaks 
 in the line of trees revealed glimpses of the park 
 beyond, with its numerous herds of deer browsing 
 in the sunshine, or basking in clusters on the soft 
 turf. 
 
 Woodthorpe, however, so rich in every sylvan 
 beauty, was seldom visited by Sir James Somerton. 
 •A yearly brief sojourn of a few weeks generally com-
 
 6 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 prised the entire period lie honoured the place with 
 his presence ; the principal reason which prevented 
 Sir James's longer residence being, that his wife Lady 
 Mary Somerton's health was in so delicate and preca- 
 rious a condition that she seldom quitted London, as her 
 ladyship was sure to fancy herself ill if absent for any 
 length of time from her favourite medical attendant. 
 Lady Mary had brought her husband an only son. 
 Mr Somerton, at the time this story opens, had 
 completed his twenty-seventh year, and was better 
 known among his father's tenantry at Woodthorpe 
 than the baronet himself. Universally beloved, Mr 
 Somerton was the very personage to keep up there 
 the prestige and dignity of his family. Just and 
 liberal, no man had ever been heard to arraign his 
 decisions, or to question his generosity. Foremost 
 in every scheme for improving the condition and pro- 
 moting the prosperity of his humbler neighbours, Mr 
 Somerton led not a life of selfish ease or haughty 
 seclusion ; yet, while mingling freely and constantly 
 with all, and making himself acquainted with the 
 wants and necessities of the poorest labourer on his 
 father's estates, he forfeited, by this condescension, 
 no distinction due to his rank ; for none, pre- 
 suming on his affability, ventured to trespass, by
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 7 
 
 freedom of remark or otherwise, on that respectful 
 deference owing to the lord of the soil from his de- 
 pendants. Yet, with a disposition thus far removed 
 from pride, there was a calm dignity in Mr Somerton's 
 deportment, and in all he said or did a quiet determi- 
 nation, which told upon people wonderfully. His 
 dependants considered his word as infallible ; for, 
 while others exhausted themselves in noisy argument 
 and vague promises, what Mr Somerton said was 
 to be accomplished, they fearlessly relied upon his 
 power to effect. The influence, therefore, this con- 
 fidence in his steady ability gave him over them was 
 incalculable, and redounded to the great and perma- 
 nent prosperity of the community. 
 
 In disposition Mr Somerton was reserved : though 
 he had read much, and thought more, he never 
 made useless parade of his knowledge. An eloquent 
 orator, he possessed that power of concentration of 
 thought, and ready wit, which, while exercising 
 unbounded sway over the mind and opinions 
 of those with whom he was brought into con- 
 stant intercourse, won him a prominent position 
 in the senate. From the evening, therefore, on 
 which his brilliant maiden speech was received with 
 admiring applause, his influence over public affairs
 
 8 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 had been progressive and sure. In general society, 
 however, Mr Somerton talked little. Lounging 
 nonchalantly aloof, save for the flash which every 
 now and then shot from his dark eye, or the smile 
 which occasionally curled his well-cut lip, he might 
 have been deemed an abstracted spectator of what 
 was going on around ; yet, when Mr Somerton did 
 think it worth while to speak, immediate and general 
 was the attention his words commanded. 
 
 On the village green, exactly opposite to the 
 gates of Woodthorpe Park, stood an old grey 
 stone house, of considerable dimensions. A neat, 
 formal little garden in front was sheltered from 
 the road by a row of tall elm trees, clipped and 
 trimmed with the nicest precision. A deep, clear 
 pool of water lay on one side of the house, from 
 whence it derived its name of " Pool House ;" on 
 the other, an enormous farm-yard stretched for some 
 distance down the adjoining lane. Pool House was 
 the abode of Mr Compton, Sir James's principal ten- 
 ant at Woodthorpe, whose honourable boast it was, 
 that, though holdiDg the farm at a rental of many 
 hundreds a year, he had never been once in arrears 
 with his rent ; nor had the baronet's steward, in his 
 stated perambulations over the property, ever had
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 9 
 
 cause to utter the slightest complaint as to the cuU 
 ture or management of the land. 
 
 Proceeding down the shady lane leading from the 
 village green, close under the prosperous farmer's 
 garden wall, a quarter of an hour's walk brings you 
 to another house, standing far back in a field, on the 
 opposite side of the road to Mr Compton's. This 
 was the residence of Mr Desmond, a comparatively 
 new resident in the village. The house was a small 
 one, very prettily situated on the verge of the park, 
 and had formerly been inhabited by Sir James's head 
 gamekeeper. A row of linden trees led from the 
 gate in the lane up to the garden, which was taste- 
 fully arranged; and pass whenever you might, the 
 flowers of the various seasons bloomed gaily around, 
 betokening, by their order, harmony, and variety of 
 colour, that feminine industry and taste contributed 
 to the adornment of the place. Excepting at church, 
 Air Desmond was rarely seen outside his own little 
 domain ; and although he Ifad been an inhabitant of 
 Woodthorpe for upwards of a year, he shunned and 
 declined intercourse with every one — Mr Compton 
 excepted, whose kindness was not to be repulsed. 
 
 Mr Desmond was a tall, grave-looking man, 
 with lofty and slightly aquiline features. His
 
 10 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 hair was tinged with grey ; his age apparently 
 averaged between forty and fifty ; and there were 
 few who, as they marked the indescribable some- 
 thing in his manners and gestures, which denoted 
 the perfect gentleman, but felt that some unhappy 
 combination of events must have consigned to ob- 
 scurity one whose language and habits appeared so 
 superior to his outward condition. Mr Desmond's 
 family consisted of his wife, and an only daughter, 
 offspring of a former marriage. Mrs Desmond was 
 a smiling, good-natured little woman, careful, and 
 sensitive in the highest degree of her husband's ap- 
 probation, to whom she made the most devoted wife ; 
 though evidently her former station in society had 
 been inferior to his. 
 
 For some time the secluded life the Desmonds 
 led, and their marked avoidance of social intercourse 
 with the village worthies, impressed people with an 
 undefined sense of their importance. There was 
 that, also, in the air add carriage of Mr Desmond 
 and his daughter which repressed familiarity. Gra- 
 dually, however, the fact crept out that the Desmonds 
 were poor — poor enough to render indispensable 
 the strictest scrutiny on the outlay of every farthing 
 expended in their household. Some irregularities
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 11 
 
 in the discharge of the bills due to the village but- 
 cher and baker brought about this notable discovery, 
 and at once the Desmonds' prestige vanished. Their 
 mysterious retirement resolved itself into the most 
 unromantic commonplace, and their reserve was con- 
 strued into the galling restraint imposed by impe- 
 rious necessity. 
 
 Poverty is the surest touchstone of worth. It 
 strips a man of all imaginary qualifications in the esti- 
 mation of others : he has no allurements of present 
 profit or future gain to offer to his friends ; the vague 
 forethought, also, that his friendship may some day 
 prove useful, though it would puzzle them to explain 
 in what way — one of the secret impulses, if all 
 hearts could be read, which induce many to covet 
 the society of persons totally uncongenial — must like- 
 wise vanish; and if, after this pruning down of 
 every interested and selfish motive, a man stands, it 
 must be for some noble virtue intrinsic in himself. 
 Despite their poverty, therefore, the Desmonds did 
 maintain themselves in the esteem of the inhabitants of 
 Woodthorpe ; and though, on the first discovery of their 
 very limited means, their popularity sank to zero, it 
 speedily and swiftly rose again, notwithstanding that 
 the romance of their seclusion had for ever vanished.
 
 12 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Late one evening, not very long after the needy 
 circumstances of the family had afforded subject for 
 village gossip, a young girl hastily quitted Mi- 
 Desmond's house, and stood in silent meditation on 
 the gravel-walk extending along its front. It was 
 at that hour when, under the darkening skies, all 
 things repose in deep, dreamy silence. The breeze, 
 which gently swayed the foliage variegated with 
 beautiful autumnal tints, subsided into whispered 
 murmurs ; and the flowers, one by one, shut up their 
 fragrant petals, bending under the weight of the 
 starry dew-drops glittering like diamonds around. 
 The gloom gradually gliding over the landscape 
 seemed to oppress the young girl's spirit also ; for 
 there she long stood motionless, her figure slightly 
 inclined forwards, her eyes fixed on the ground, and 
 her hand often raised and pressed to her brow. 
 Her bonnet hung from her arm, and the shawl that 
 drooped from her shoulders displayed the exquisite 
 outline of her figure and neck. 
 
 Margaret Desmond was not a beauty in the com- 
 mon acceptation of the term. Her face and figure 
 did not strike with admiration at a first glance ; for 
 her features, with their faultless proportion, required 
 study. No hasty survey could catch the varied ex-
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 13 
 
 pression of her dark blue eyes, or feel the full 
 force of the soft persuasive eloquence contrasting at 
 times, with the bright, gladsome animation of her 
 glance. Shining bands of nut-brown hair, drooping 
 low in graceful clusters of ringlets, shaded her cheek ; 
 while thick tresses, which in their luxuriancy seemed 
 almost to defy restraint, were gathered into a heavy 
 knot on the back of her head. Her nose was small 
 and straight, her mouth beautifully cut, with lips 
 round and crimson, curling with merry archness when 
 parted by the dazzling smile which displayed her 
 white, pearly teeth. 
 
 But as she stood there, no smile lighted her fea- 
 tures ; and the profound tranquillity which reigned 
 around, as all things were slowly enveloped in gloom, 
 fell not soothingly on her spirit. Her brow was 
 painfully contracted, and restless anxiety lurked 
 in her eyes. Occasionally, too, a tremulous mo- 
 tion agitated her lips, and with a slight shudder 
 her head drooped still lower on her bosom. Pre- 
 sently a step sounded within the house, and a voice 
 uttered her name. 
 
 Margaret started ; then hastily putting on her 
 bonnet, she bounded across the tiny lawn, and 
 passing through a gate, which opened into a field
 
 14 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 separating the cottage from the domain of Wood- 
 thorpe Park, sauntered slowly along. The path she 
 was pursuing — the footroad from the village to an 
 adjacent hamlet — was sheltered by a thick hedge, and 
 formed almost a broad terrace-walk ; so much higher 
 did it lie than the rest of the field, which sloped 
 abruptly down to the park. 
 
 Somewhat of the care that furrowed Margaret's 
 brow vanished as the clear breeze circled round her, 
 creeping along the summits of the lofty trees and 
 scattering about showers of red leaves : for the cold 
 blue skies and moist atmosphere of October had 
 already committed sad havoc, and stripped many a 
 stately branch of its foliage. 
 
 Rumour had not exaggerated the extent of Mr 
 Desmond's pecuniary embarrassment; nor even, as 
 is seldom the case, estimated nearly its magnitude. 
 This sorrow it was that now shadowed the brow of his 
 young daughter. Mr Desmond's was, that oft-told his- 
 tory of a youth of thoughtless levity and profuseness, 
 followed by a manhood of poverty and care. In his dis- 
 tress, as is always the case, more there were ready to 
 censure his past improvidence, than to minister to his 
 present necessity. Yet Mr Desmond's friends might 
 have spared their reproofs, for the sins of his early
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 15 
 
 days were perpetually rising against him, and proved 
 as sorrowful a burden as their charitable anxiety 
 for his amendment could desire. Debts, often long 
 forgotten, pressed heavily upon him ; and such 
 was the cause of the grief and consternation 
 which overwhelmed his family on the day our story 
 opens. A bill of long standing, to a very consider- 
 able amount, had been presented — three days' grace 
 and its payment, or arrest at the end of this period, 
 awaited Mr Desmond. One hundred a-year, the for- 
 tune brought him by his first wife, and his own small 
 retiring pension from a clerkship that he formerly 
 held in a government office, made up the amount 
 of Mr Desmond's income. Not a moment then was to 
 be lost : his creditor was inexorable. But one course 
 seemed open to him, which was to request the loan of 
 the sum from his prosperous neighbour, Mr Compton. 
 Generously and unconditionally, the money was 
 instantly tendered ; but Mr Desmond insisted on giv- 
 ing Mr Compton his bond for its gradual repayment 
 at an interval of six months. Thus, though the 
 danger had been temporarily averted, Mr Desmond 
 knew that the residue of his small income, until this 
 sum was repaid, would be inadequate for the support 
 of his family, even on the very limited scale of their
 
 16 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 present expenditure; so that their only alternative 
 seemed to be to quit their pretty, retired cottage, and 
 wander elsewhere in search of cheaper living and 
 deeper obscurity. Sad and earnest had been their 
 conferences together : for one little luxury had been 
 gradually yielded, and then another, until at length 
 further retrenchment became impossible. 
 
 Margaret's was the voice which encouraged her 
 father's faltering resolve ; and though it was with the 
 deepest distress that she thought of leaving Wood- 
 thorpe, and sinking still lower in the scale of social 
 distinction, she had strength and fortitude of character 
 not only to counsel this step, but to act up to what her 
 conscience told her was the just and right course. 
 Another grief, likewise, pressed heavily on Margaret's 
 heart, and made the words with which she urged on 
 her father the necessity of relinquishing their present 
 home almost die upon her lips : this was the know- 
 ledge that her encouragement of the timid suit of Mr 
 Compton's only son would for ever cancel their debt. 
 
 The respectful admiration evinced by young 
 Compton for his daughter had long afforded much 
 amusement to Mr Desmond ; whose patrician blood, 
 however, would have boiled indignantly could he 
 have supposed this silent homage capable of rousing
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 17 
 
 a corresponding sentiment in Margaret's bosom. Mi- 
 Desmond rightly interpreted his daughter's feel- 
 ings. No congeniality of habit or thought existed 
 between herself and George Compton; therefore, 
 though she respected his principles and frank honesty 
 of character, no warmer sentiment responded, on her 
 part, to his attachment. 
 
 Slowly and sadly Margaret pursued her solitary 
 walk, musing on these things ; feeling keenly the bur- 
 den of being elevated by birth, education, and habits, 
 above the sphere in which pecuniary circumstances 
 restrained her. No privation can be more acutely 
 felt than this — almost the worst of poverty's ills to 
 endure. Without any undue presumption, Margaret 
 felt herself a being of a different race from the people 
 amongst whom her lot was then cast : her tastes, 
 sympathies, and pursuits, were wide apart from theirs. 
 Yet she knew that the enjoyment, intellectual and 
 refined, which imagination daily pictured — that parti- 
 cipation in the poetry of life, which wealth and posi- 
 tion alone can give, must ever remain to her as it 
 then was — an ideal. Miss Desmond's, however, was 
 not a character to exhaust itself in vain lamentations 
 and secret repinings for a higher state of happiness 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 18 
 
 and prosperity than it had pleased God to assign 
 to her. Therefore, though occasionally a sigh es- 
 caped her lips, and momentary depression damped 
 her spirits when she thought of her solitude, she 
 speedily chased away such unwelcome visitants by 
 that best of remedies — active benevolence. 
 
 At length Margaret paused, for the progress of her 
 reverie -had led her much further from home than she 
 intended. 
 
 The moon had just risen, bathing all things in a 
 flood of pale subdued light. From her elevated posi- 
 tion a wide expanse of park was visible, diversified 
 by dark broad shadows cast by gigantic trees, and 
 by patches of moonlight brilliant enough for the scene 
 of some nocturnal elfin revel. A large piece of water, 
 outlined by masses of foliage, glowed with tremu- 
 lous radiance in the distance, as every now and then 
 a light cloud flitted across the moon's disc. The 
 passive tranquillity of the scene was inexpressibly 
 soothing to Margaret's spirit, and she stood absorbed 
 in meditation, until the sound of a hasty step ap- 
 proaching made her lower her veil ; but ere she could 
 resume her homeward progress, George Compton 
 stood beside her.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 19 
 
 a Mrs Desmond sent me in search of you, Miss 
 Margaret. She was alarmed at your long absence," 
 said he, hesitatingly. 
 
 u I am sorry to have occasioned you so much 
 trouble. Mamma need not have been alarmed, as I 
 have not wandered beyond this footpath," replied 
 Margaret, walking slowly forwards. 
 
 " Perhaps not. It might be only Mrs Desmond's 
 kindness that induced her to send me, knowing that 
 she could not confer greater happiness than by hon- 
 ouring me with this commission," hurriedly rejoined 
 Mr Compton. 
 
 Involuntarily, Margaret quickened her pace, and 
 made no rejoinder. The colour rose to the young 
 man's brow. For some distance they walked on 
 in mutual silence ; but it was easy to perceive 
 from the nervous impatience of his step, and the dif- 
 ficulty with which he restrained its impetuosity within 
 the bounds of his companion's progress, that some 
 unusual emotion was stirring in his mind. Had tl it- 
 light permitted, or perhaps had not Miss Desmond 
 so assiduously averted her head, she would have 
 seen the colour gather and settle in Mr Compton' s 
 cheek, and a kind of determined expression to brave 
 the worst gradually diffuse itself over his comely good-
 
 20 
 
 natured face, — symptoms which would have infallibly 
 accelerated not a little her speed homewards. 
 
 " Miss Desmond, I have heard to-day the most 
 distressing rumour, which I grieve to say has just 
 now been fully confirmed by Mrs Desmond. Oh ! 
 Margaret, say that you will not leave Woodthorpe !" 
 at length burst, in agitating accents, from Mr Comp- 
 ton's lips. 
 
 His tones were expressive of such genuine distress 
 and anxiety, that Margaret could not refrain from 
 glancing upon him more kindly than she had ever 
 before done in her life : besides, sympathy, even from 
 Mr Compton, was soothing to her heart. 
 
 " It must be ! My father cannot afford to live 
 longer here. "We must indeed leave "Woodthorpe/ ' 
 replied she at length, slowly and sadly. 
 
 " ISTay, Miss Desmond, why should it be so ? Con- 
 to share everything my father and mother pos- 
 They love you already as a daughter. Oh, 
 Margaret ! may I not hope that at length the most 
 assiduous devotion may sometime induce you to glad- 
 den our home?" exclaimed Mr Compton earnestly. 
 
 He paused, and would have taken her hand. 
 
 Gently, though firmly, Margaret withheld it. 
 Tears trembled in her eyes,
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 21 
 
 " Mr Compton, I cannot permit you to talk to me 
 thus. It pains me inexpressibly. Believe me, I am 
 grateful, deeply grateful, for all the kindness I have 
 received from you and yours," replied she quickly. 
 
 A deep shade of disappointment gathered on Mi 
 Compton's face. 
 
 " And is this all, Miss Desmond ? Though we 
 are fully alive to the disparity "between your situation 
 and that which I — ice can offer to you, is it quite 
 impossible, dear Margaret, that you could forget it ? 
 Will not my earnest prayer induce you to reconsider 
 your decision?" rejoined he, at length, in a voice fal- 
 tering with emotion. 
 
 " Why will you compel me, Mr Compton, to re- 
 quite so ill what we owe you by persisting in this 
 theme ? I cannot accept the home you so generously 
 offer," replied Margaret, gently, though decidedly. 
 
 Mr Compton made no reply ; and for some time 
 they walked on silently. Tears streamed down Mar- 
 garet's cheeks : the future presented an aspect bo 
 joyless — so utterly devoid of hope — that a chill feel- 
 ing of despondency crept over her spirits. 
 
 The clapping of a gate on the footpath some little 
 distance before them, disturbed at length the reverie 
 into which both Margaret and her companion had
 
 22 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 
 
 fallen. In a few seconds, the dull sound of a horse's 
 hoofs falling on the soft turf was distinctly audible. 
 ' " Mr Somerton ! " said Mr Compton, as he took off 
 his hat to a gentleman who at that instant passed on 
 horseback. 
 
 Margaret hastily raised her eyes. She perceived 
 that Mr Somerton cast a long scrutinizing gaze on 
 herself and her companion as he passed. Suddenly 
 he checked his horse, and brought it round towards 
 them. 
 
 " Mr Compton, I wish to speak a few words with 
 you — I will not detain you an instant ! " said he, in a 
 full deep voice. 
 
 George Compton immediately left her side ; then 
 .Margaret, now T rid of her unwelcome companion, 
 bounded swiftly forwards : not, however, before she 
 fancied that she caught the sound of her own name 
 pronounced by Mr Somerton's lips. Breathless and 
 excited she stood at the garden gate, ere Mr Compton 
 joined her. She turned and silently offered her hand ; 
 for she could not then ask him to enter the house. 
 
 He took it, and eagerly pressed it to his lips ; and 
 .so they parted.
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 When Margaret entered her home, not a sound was 
 stirring. The shutters of the sitting-room window 
 were closed, and the moonlight streamed through the 
 open garden-door, partially illumining the passage 
 and staircase. All was cheerless and solitary : no 
 busy footsteps resounded, or voices echoed ; and 
 Margaret, as she threw aside her bonnet and shawl, 
 felt deeper depression steal over her spirits. 
 
 The dull murmur of voices in the adjacent parlour 
 at length fell on her ear ; and with feelings of positive 
 relief she hastily entered the room : its sole occupants 
 were her father and mother. 
 
 Mr Desmond was sitting in an arm-chair, with his 
 elbow resting on the table. A reading-candle threw 
 its strong glare on the open book before him ; a 
 paper-knife carelessly lay across its page, and Mi- 
 Desmond's eyes were averted. A deeper gravity 
 than usual rested on his pale, thoughtful features;
 
 24 
 
 and the anxious solicitude of his glance, and the 
 restlessness of his deportment, but too surely be- 
 tokened mental disquietude. Near him stood an 
 open writing-desk ; and the table was covered with 
 letters, fragments of paper, bills paid and unpaid, 
 and a variety of other memoranda. • Opposite, at the 
 other end of the table, Mrs Desmond sat occupied 
 with her needle. In spite of the sorrow and anxiety 
 of the last few days, the same placid smile shone in 
 her good-natured face, and she bent over her work 
 with as much composure as if no untoward event had 
 ruffled the tranquillity of the household. 
 
 Mrs Desmond was one of those pliable, complacent 
 persons, whose passions and desires, by some won- 
 drous process, are almost invariably bounded within 
 the limits of what they happen at the moment to 
 possess. Ho present or future fears had power to 
 rouse more than temporary uneasiness in her bosom ; 
 or to banish the perpetual smile which beamed on 
 her lips. Her character resembled the polished sur- 
 face of a mirror, which retains no after- vestige of the 
 objects it has reflected ; while so really impervious was 
 she to the casualties of life, that had it been her fate 
 to sink from the height of splendour to most abject 
 penury, she would speedily have become reconciled
 
 OE FAMILY PRIDE. 25 
 
 to her lot. Mrs Desmond, however, though lacking 
 warmth and sensibility, was thoroughly just and up- 
 right in her conduct. She looked upon her husband 
 and his daughter as prodigies of wisdom ; and, in 
 her own mind, felt not the smallest doubt that their 
 tact and knowledge of the world would quickly 
 rescue them from difficulty. 
 
 When Margaret entered the room, Mrs Desmond 
 raised her eyes from her work and fixed them eagerly 
 on the door ; then a slight shade of disappointment 
 passed over her face as she assiduously resumed her 
 employment. 
 
 u I have been calculating, during your absence, 
 Margaret, how much our present expenditure will 
 exceed the income at our disposal during the ensuing 
 year. The result of my labour is as you see," said 
 Mr Desmond gravely, putting into his daughter's 
 hand a sheet of paper covered with figures* 
 
 Margaret sat down, and glanced quickly over the 
 paper. As she read, the serious concern resting on 
 her face increased • nor did she speak again for 
 some minutes after finishing its perusal. 
 
 " Well, Margaret, you see we shall need a repeti- 
 tion of the miracle of the widow's cruse to struggle
 
 26 AGATHA BEAUFORT 
 
 on anywhere with such an income as that ! To be 
 sure my books would sell for something," resumed 
 Mr Desmond bitterly, while his eyes surveyed with 
 sorrowful regret the bookcases containing his small 
 though choice library. 
 
 " Let me look, Margaret," said Mrs Desmond, 
 laying aside her work. 
 
 " You see, dear papa, we have before discussed 
 every scheme likely to afford extrication from our 
 difficulties. I feel persuaded there is but one — we 
 must leave this place. Let us therefore submit 
 courageously and patiently to that for which there is 
 indeed no help," said Margaret, earnestly. 
 
 " Towards which quarter of the world would you 
 have us direct our steps, Margaret? America, I 
 should think might afford some pathless wild, cheap 
 and obscure enough!" rejoined Mr Desmond moodily; 
 for the anxiety of the past few days began to mani- 
 fest itself in an impatience of temper, which aggra- 
 vated much his personal discomfort, and that of 
 every one around. 
 
 Margaret looked grieved. 
 
 " What do you say to Cornwall or Devonshire ? 
 I have heard that both these counties combine these
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 27 
 
 two indispensables to our future comfort, — cheapness 
 of living, and an agreeable country, " observed she 
 soothingly. 
 
 " Oh, Margaret, I know Devonshire is the most 
 charming part of England ! This is a delightful sug- 
 gestion of yours, my dear. A friend of mine once 
 resided near Torquay, and she used to talk in rap- 
 tures of the beauty of the villas and gardens in 
 that neighbourhood !" exclaimed Mrs Desmond 
 eagerly, putting down the paper and resuming her 
 work. 
 
 Mr Desmond shrugged his shoulders impatiently. 
 
 " I should like to hear, Margaret, how you propose 
 that we shall perform this journey of three hundred 
 miles. My opinion is, if we go into Devonshire, 
 that the least expensive mode would be to hire a 
 caravan, pack up our goods and chattels, and travel 
 thither in patriarchal fashion !" rejoined he sarcasti- 
 cally. 
 
 " Would it not be better to take a small furnished 
 house, wherever we fix our future abode?" asked 
 Margaret, firmly. 
 
 " The debt which involves such perplexity is 
 only owing to Mr Compton, I perceive," suddenly 
 exclaimed Mrs Desmond ; as if the fact had all at
 
 28 
 
 once burst upon her. " Oh, Margaret, if George 
 Conrpton's assiduities could win from you the 
 slightest return, you know we need not quit Wood- 
 thorpe at all. He has been here this evening, to 
 inquire into the truth of the report of our approaching 
 departure. Poor fellow ! he seemed almost frantic 
 with grief," added she quickly and deprecatingly. 
 
 " Mr Compton joined me during my walk. 
 Mamma, you well know that it is utterly impossible 
 for me to afford him any encouragement. I could 
 not conscientiously do so," replied Margaret in a low 
 voice ; while tears trembled in her eyes, as she 
 steadily bent them on the table. 
 
 " Still, Margaret, I think you might be very happy 
 with George Compton," persisted Mrs Desmond, 
 speaking in the same deprecating tones. "MrCompton, 
 I understand, intends to give up Pool House to his 
 son on his marriage ; besides which, it is said that 
 Sir James Somerton means to make George his 
 steward next year. Old Compton has more money 
 than he knows what to do with, and therefore can 
 afford to give his son's wife an affluent home." 
 
 "It so happens, however, Mrs Desmond, that I 
 have other views for my daughter. The fairest way 
 of doing the thing, according to your notions, would
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 29 
 
 be to put Margaret's hand up to auction, and he 
 who bids above the amount of this unlucky debt, for 
 which you counsel her to sacrifice herself, shall take 
 her. Your friend then, as he is so rich, would have 
 a famous chance among other candidates," retorted 
 Mr Desmond, irritably. 
 
 " My remarks were made only on the supposition 
 that Margaret could eventually like him, Mr Des- 
 mond. George Compton has the best and kindest 
 heart, and any woman might lead the happiest of 
 lives with him," replied Mrs Desmond. 
 
 Mr Desmond smiled, then turned over the pages 
 of the book before him. Margaret sat in silent 
 meditation, her face nearly concealed by her hands. 
 
 " It is very long since you heard from Methwold 
 Abbey, papa. I suppose that you think it useless to 
 apply for assistance there ?" said she at last, slowly. 
 
 " Quite so, Margaret. Agatha Beaufort would 
 sooner see me, and those belonging to me, starve, 
 than proffer a shilling to avert such a doom," replied 
 Mr Desmond decisively. 
 
 " Yet, papa, years may have wrought a change in 
 Mrs Beaufort's character. You are her nearest 
 relative ; and surely in our distress she would not 
 cruelly withhold aid, which, with her wealth, she
 
 30 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 can so readily afford. I think we may afterwards re- 
 gret not having appealed to her," rejoined Margaret 
 persuasively. 
 
 " You know not Agatha Beaufort's implacable 
 resentment, Margaret, or you would not talk thus. 
 I have irretrievably offended her — at least my mar- 
 riage with your mother did. I will not afford her 
 haughty spirit another opportunity of triumphing 
 over our poverty and misfortunes." 
 
 " If you will be advised by me, papa, I should 
 say, write immediately to Mrs Beaufort. At any 
 rate, such an application can do us no harm," per- 
 sisted Margaret, very earnestly, rising; and then, 
 kneeling on a footstool by her father's chair, she 
 raised her clear, earnest eyes beseechingly to his, and 
 drew the writing-case before him. 
 
 " I wish you would follow Margaret's advice, Mr 
 Desmond. I remember once seeing a picture of 
 Methwold Abbey, and a princely place it seems to 
 be. Upon an estate like hers, Mrs Beaufort must 
 have some house — for example, such a one as this — 
 that very likely she might offer to us." 
 
 " Perhaps she may propose to make me her 
 steward: which you know, my dear, would almost 
 answer as well as marrying Margaret to Sir James
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 31 
 
 Somerton's," replied Mr Desmond bitterly. Then 
 turning towards his daughter, he continued : " As 
 for writing to Mrs Beaufort, I tell you, Margaret, it 
 is wholly out of the question. Her reply would be 
 a bitter taunt on our penury ; to which I will not sub- 
 ject myself. It is more than seventeen years since I 
 held the slightest communication with her: for Agatha 
 Beaufort's conduct to your poor mother, Margaret, 
 when you were born, is alone enough to make me 
 ever detest and shun her I" exclaimed Mr Desmond, 
 vehemently. 
 
 " It is very painful, I know, to sue for compassion, 
 and kindness from the hard-hearted ; yet, dear papa, 
 appeal once more, I implore you, to Mrs Beaufort's 
 generosity," murmured Margaret, in a low voice. 
 
 " Nonsense, Margaret : you do not know what 
 you are talking about. Shall I ask any favour at 
 the hands of this hard-hearted woman, whose harsh- 
 ness imbittered your mother's end?" replied Mi- 
 Desmond, rising in great agitation, and pacing up 
 and down the room. 
 
 " Mrs Beaufort may even now be longing to offer 
 reparation. Afford her then the opportunity," pleaded 
 Margaret, still speaking in the same low voice.
 
 32 
 
 Mr Desmond continued for some time in moody 
 thought. 
 
 " I did hear a few years ago that some incompre- 
 hensible mystery imbitters her days, and sheds 
 gloom over her prosperity. Perhaps, having tasted 
 sorrow herself, her heart may now be more acces- 
 sible to compassion for the misfortunes of others," 
 said Mr Desmond, after a long pause, reseating him- 
 self at the table. 
 
 In an instant Margaret put a pen into her father's 
 hand. 
 
 " Give Mrs Beaufort this one trial more, I beseech 
 you, dear papa !" exclaimed she caressingly. 
 
 " Well, Margaret, remember that it is quite 
 against my own inclination, and solely in compliance 
 with your entreaty, that I submit to the humiliation 
 of preferring another petition to Agatha Beaufort !" 
 said Mr Desmond, as he slowly and reluctantly drew 
 the paper before him and commenced his letter. 
 
 To explain the source of the enmity subsisting 
 between Mr Desmond and his wealthy cousin, it 
 will be necessary to revert to the earlier events of 
 their lives. Mr Desmond was the only child of the 
 late Sir John Beaufort's elder sister, who married a
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 33 
 
 gentleman of small fortune, moving in a station of 
 life somewhat inferior to her own. 
 
 This marriage was exceedingly displeasing to Mrs 
 Desmond's relations, who for long held aloof from the 
 slightest intercourse with her husband. Her brother, 
 Sir John Beaufort, was a man of proud, irascible 
 temper, slow to be conciliated, and possessed of the 
 most overweening notions of family importance and 
 dignity. Still, mingled with much that was dark and 
 objectionable, there were some good traits in Sir John's 
 character, whicli occasionally revealed themselves ; 
 though, even while yielding to the inspirations of his 
 better nature, his actions were clouded by a sullen re- 
 serve, and a frigid indifference inexpressibly repelling. 
 
 He was generous to profusion, when the mood 
 was upon him, — if the mere disregard of money, 
 by a man who had plenty to lavish, can so be desig- 
 nated, — just and liberal in his dealings with his 
 dependants, charitable to the poor on his large 
 estates: not, however, from innate principle, we 
 must add, but from a desire to appropriate and per- 
 petuate that fame for liberality and good works, 
 which, with but few exceptions, had been the heri- 
 tage of his ancestors for generations back. Conse- 
 quently, Sir John's noble benefactions were found 
 VOL. I. C
 
 34 
 
 duly chronicled in golden letters on the panels of 
 the galleries and on the walls of the little church of 
 Methwold ; so that every returning Sabbath his eye 
 rested complacently on the record of his own good 
 deeds, while his dependants were thus constantly 
 reminded of his claim on their veneration and 
 gratitude. 
 
 Sir John's right to be considered a benevolent an d 
 generous man was, however, according to his own 
 notions, for ever confirmed, when, on the death of his 
 sister and her husband, he at once declared himself 
 the guardian and protector of their orphan child. 
 From the age of twelve years, therefore, Francis Des- 
 mond found a home at Methwold ; and there enjoyed 
 in every respect the same privileges as his cousins. 
 At this period Sir John was a widower ; his wife, the 
 Lady Blanche, having died about three years previ- 
 ously, leaving him two children, a son and a daughter. 
 
 The same regard for public opinion, and the 
 exaltation of the house of Beaufort, the actuating 
 principles ever prompting Sir John's deeds, had 
 influenced him in his choice of a wife. The Lady 
 Blanche's descent was unimpeachable ; though she 
 herself was a thoroughly unloveable person : stiff, 
 stately, and sedate, her words were icicles, and effee-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 35 
 
 tually chilled any approach to cordiality others might 
 feel inclined to proffer. Her mind was narrow, and 
 never expanded in generous impulse : indeed, Lady 
 Blanche was one of those little-minded persons who 
 deliberately calculate beforehand the line of action 
 most profitable and politic for them to pursue, and 
 once having resolved, resolutely maintain that de- 
 cision against persuasion or remonstrance the most 
 urgent ; simply because they distrust themselves, and 
 fear to be cajoled into some concession which, on 
 reflection, they might afterwards repent. 
 
 Sir John, meanwhile, beheld with cordial approval 
 the formal grandeur with which his wife dispensed 
 the hospitalities of Methwold; and after her death, 
 as he gazed on the son she had born him, and 
 on the stately majesty of her figure — as repre- 
 sented in the picture which he immediately caused 
 to be painted, and added to the portraits of the 
 Beauforts hanging in the family gallery — he acknow- 
 ledged with a sigh, that the Lady Blanche had 
 indeed, in every respect, nobly fulfilled her worldly 
 callings. 
 
 Meanwhile, Francis Desmond continued to live on 
 most harmonious terms with his two cousins. When 
 he attained the age of twenty, Sir John's influence
 
 36 
 
 obtained his nephew's nomination to a clerkship in 
 the Foreign Office, with promise of speedy promo- 
 tion : an appointment the baronet had intended for * 
 his son ; but Mr Beaufort persisted in his resolve to 
 enter the army, and resolutely closed his ear to his 
 father's expostulations on the subject, with an obsti- 
 nacy worthy of the family characteristic. 
 
 There was another inmate of the mansion, mean- 
 while, whose rapid growth to womanhood had scarce 
 been noticed : this was Sir John's daughter. Agatha 
 Beaufort, at the age of nineteen, inherited that rare 
 beauty and grace of manner which had long ren- 
 dered the female members of her house celebrated 
 for their personal charms. Her features were almost 
 perfect in proportion and regularity ; yet there was a 
 stern severity in their expression, which at times 
 made her beauty terrible to gaze upon. There was 
 unquelled passion, and a resolution which neither 
 peril nor menace could daunt, in the lightning glance 
 of her full dark eye ; and oft-times in the passionate 
 quivering of her lip, and the momentary dilatation of 
 the proud nostril, those skilled in reading character 
 could discern extraordinary power of suppressing out- 
 ward emotion ; while the ready tact with which kind 
 and gracious words flowed from her beautiful mouth,
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 37 
 
 immediately on recovering from such involuntary 
 hnpulse, denoted that her dissimulation more than 
 equalled her self-command. 
 
 Agatha Beaufort possessed great quickness of intel- 
 lect, and what she chose to leam she accomplished 
 well and easily. The utmost care and trouble had 
 been bestowed upon her education. Learning, how- 
 ever, she loved, not for itself alone, but only as a 
 source of power : for this end she pursued it with the 
 full vigour and determination of a character whicli 
 scorned defeat. The multitude of masters and gover- 
 nesses it had been Sir John's pleasure to engage to 
 superintend his daughter's studies, were speedily 
 given to understand by this very energetic and wil- 
 ful young lady, that only to such subjects as excited 
 her interest and pleased her fancy, was it her sove- 
 reign will to devote the slightest attention. Some 
 remonstrated, others complained- to Sir John ; but 
 all to no purpose : Miss Beaufort's rebellious spirit 
 defied restraint ; and, from the age of twelve years 
 upwards, she reigned sole arbitress of the school-room. 
 
 After her debut, Miss Beaufort's ordinary manner 
 in society was lively and affable ; when nothing oc- 
 curred to ruffle her temper, or to offend the pride 
 which glowed so strongly in her bosom. Did any
 
 as 
 
 unlucky individual, however, presuming on the ap- 
 parent good-natured condescension of her manner, 
 venture to transgress on this forbidden ground, the cold 
 contemptuous glance of haughty amazement, which 
 quickly replaced Miss Beaufort's courteous words and 
 smiles, unpleasantly reminded her friends that, how- 
 ever she might condescend, they must not presume. 
 
 Between Agatha Beaufort and her cousin Francis 
 the strictest amity and good fellowship prevailed. 
 Her only brother, Hugh, too closely resembled 
 herself in impetuous warmth of disposition to prove 
 a congenial companion; and whenever they met 
 a contest usually ensued. Francis Desmond was the 
 mediator in these youthful contentions, and continued 
 to exercise his good offices between, and preserve the 
 favour of both his cousins, until the departure of 
 Mr Beaufort to join his regiment abroad. Since the 
 period of Lady Blanche Beaufort's decease, Sir John 
 had secluded himself very much from the world; 
 so that Agatha, possessing few friends, and leading 
 a life of retirement at the Abbey, at this time 
 found her cousin's society and friendship a valuable 
 acquisition. 
 
 Some six months after Mr Beaufort's departure 
 abroad, a small pretty house in the village of Meth-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 39 
 
 wold, belonging to Sir John, was taken by a widow 
 lady of the name of Sullivan, who came to reside 
 there with her two children. Mrs Sullivan's late 
 husband was the son of a wealthy merchant, who, at 
 his father's death, had succeeded to a flourishing trade. 
 After a brief course of prosperity, however, Mr Sul- 
 livan became involved, and at length completely 
 ruined, by an unfortunate speculation ; and distress 
 and anxiety of mind occasioned his sudden death a 
 few months after his failure. This disaster was fatal 
 to the prospects of his children ; as, when Mr Sulli- 
 van's affairs were investigated, it was foimd that his 
 widow would have but a bare pittance to subsist 
 upon. Basil Sullivan, therefore, who during his 
 father's short career of prosperity had been studying 
 at Cambridge, was compelled to quit the university, 
 and share his mother's humble home. 
 
 Soon after the widow's arrival at Methwold, Miss 
 Sullivan presented herself at the Abbey, to solicit Miss 
 Beaufort's patronage and aid, in an attempt she was 
 about to make to add somewhat to her mother's slender 
 income by giving lessons in embroidery. 
 
 Agnes Sullivan, to look upon, was one of those 
 fair, fragile creatures, too bright for sorrow to subdue. 
 There was a mute eloquence in the earnest glance of
 
 40 
 
 her blue eyes, and something so touching in the meek 
 unmurmuring resignation with which she alluded to 
 her reverses, that kindled even Miss Beaufort's pity. 
 
 Agatha's actions were impetuous and decided as her 
 character ; she therefore at once declared it to be her 
 royal intent to take the Sullivans, one and all, under 
 her patronage. For some months Agnes made daily 
 visits to the Abbey, for the ostensible purpose of giv- 
 ing lessons in embroidery to her new friend. Soon 
 the remaining portions of the day were also occupied 
 by abundance of pupils ; for such was Miss Beau- 
 fort's perseverance in promoting the interest of 
 her protegee, that it required a greater degree of 
 determination than many of her friends possessed, to 
 negative her vehement request that they also would 
 extend their patronage to the Sullivans. 
 
 Gradually this interchange of visits between the 
 young ladies became more frequent, and in a short time 
 all Miss Sullivan's leisure hours were spent at the 
 Abbey ; for, though little congeniality existed between 
 her timid, retiring character, and that of Miss Beaufort, 
 the latter (who never before possessed a female friend) 
 found inexpressible pleasure in pouring into the ear 
 of her gentle companion some of the strange thoughts 
 and fancies of her past years of solitude : besides,
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 41 
 
 Agatha, like many other proud persons, loved to 
 contemplate her own work in her friend's compa- 
 rative prosperity ; and the idea that she alone pos- 
 sessed Agnes's friendship, to the exclusion of all 
 others, flattered her vanity and self-love. 
 
 Miss Sullivan's gentle spirit, however, might soon 
 have tired of Agatha's exacting humour, had not 
 more thrilling interest soon mingled in her daily 
 visits to the Abbey. Mr Desmond and she were 
 naturally thrown a great deal into each other's so- 
 ciety ; and soon he became irresistibly fascinated by 
 the feminine mildness and winning grace of her 
 manner and deportment. To pass from Miss Beau- 
 fort's society to that of her friend, was like transi- 
 tion from the full blaze of a mid-day sun, to soft, 
 shadowy moonlight. Mr Desmond's admiration and 
 assiduous homage speedily awoke a responsive feel- 
 ing in Miss Sullivan's breast ; and before the lapse of 
 many months they had secretly plighted faith. 
 
 Miss Beaufort, meantime, had been an unconscious 
 spectator of the attachment progressing between her 
 cousin and her friend. Basil Sullivan was now 
 nearly as frequent a visiter at the Abbey as his 
 sister ; and Agatha, in her eager efforts to decipher 
 his character, which had hitherto baffled her pene-
 
 42 
 
 tration, condescendingly devoted to him so much of 
 her conversation and attention, that the lovers found 
 ample opportunity to enjoy each other's exclusive 
 society. Seldom had two people so nearly connected 
 afforded such decided contrast, in person and dispo- 
 sition, as Basil Sullivan and his sister. He inherited 
 none of that refined grace and symmetry of feature 
 so particularly distinguishing her ; on the contrary, 
 nothing could be less attractive than his whole out- 
 ward deportment. He was small in stature, and his 
 manner had an uncouth, disagreeable abruptness, 
 almost repellent on a first introduction. 
 
 Yet the mind, after all, was the most extraordinary 
 part of Mr Basil Sullivan. He had read much, and 
 dipped into most subjects ; the result of his studies be- 
 ing, that he had spun in his own mind a series of the 
 wildest and most improbable theories ; which, when 
 attacked, he was always ready to prove and maintain 
 with an amazing degree of clever fluency. He was a 
 disciple of the Jean Jacques Kousseau school : " the 
 man," arrayed in the power and majesty of intellect, 
 apart from all social distinctions, was the idol he 
 professed to worship. Armed thus with an utter 
 impassibility to outward station, and recognising 
 genius only as the legitimate source which elevated
 
 OE FAMILY PRIDE. 43 
 
 one man above another, Mr Basil Sullivan was the very 
 person to meet Miss Beaufort on her own ground. 
 
 They talked on poetry, philosophy, politics, and 
 belles lettres ; discussed German mysticism and 
 French sophistry with an ardour worthy of the 
 keenest controvertists : indeed, there was no theme 
 however subtle, or argument so abstruse, on which 
 Miss Beaufort's powerful mind had dwelt, that Mr 
 Sullivan did not dilate upon, with a boldness and 
 originality of fancy which ever riveted his auditor's 
 attention. Despite, however, his manifold eccentri- 
 cities, Mr Basil Sullivan was not proof against that 
 most insidious of human passions — love ; and when 
 for weeks he found himself monopolizing the undi- 
 vided attention and smiles of the beautiful girl, who 
 sat listening to his words with deep apparent in- 
 terest, it is not to be wondered at, if at length his 
 philosophy yielded. 
 
 In Miss Beaufort, Mr Sullivan saw nothing more 
 august than the beautiful, strong-minded woman ; 
 and he flattered himself that it was her intellect 
 alone which had achieved the victory over him : 
 he loved her, in short ; and he dared to tell her so. 
 Brief, however, was his illusion that these philoso- 
 phical arguments had wrought the same miracle on
 
 44 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 her mind. Miss Beaufort stood a moment, stunned 
 with amaze at the bold confession ; the next, her 
 beautiful eyes flamed with the fierceness of indigna- 
 tion, and her figure quivered with passionate excite- 
 ment. Words of keen, contemptuous irony then 
 slowly fell from her lips — words such as, when 
 listened to and applied, make men bitter foes for 
 life. She then turned scornfully away, and quitted 
 the room, and Mr Basil Sullivan saw her no more. 
 
 Not content with rigorously enforcing the ban 
 which henceforth excluded Mr Sullivan from her 
 presence, Miss Beaufort determined to extend it to 
 his sister likewise. The Sullivans, emboldened by 
 her condescension, had insolently presumed to disre- 
 gard their subordinate position, as creatures whom 
 her bounty had raised from obscurity — a crime un- 
 pardonable to her haughty spirit. Consequently, the 
 following morning after her brother's bold avowal 
 of his love, Agnes received a letter from Miss Beau- 
 fort, couched in tones of cold civility ; declining for 
 the present all further intercourse, and referring her 
 for explanation to Mr Basil Sullivan. 
 
 Vainly Mr Desmond expostulated with his cousin 
 on this unjust exclusion of her friend from the Abbey ; 
 until at length, indignant at the obduracy of her re-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 45 
 
 sentment, he boldly avowed his own engagement to 
 Agnes Sullivan. 
 
 Language can inadequately convey an idea of 
 the consternation this confession produced at the 
 Abbey. Sir John, rousing from the mental and 
 bodily apathy which his daughter's enterprising 
 disposition, since the death of his wife, had al- 
 lowed him to indulge, peremptorily commanded his 
 nephew to relinquish a project so humiliating to the 
 family dignity. Unmoved, however, by Sir John's 
 threats, or his cousin's scornful silence, Mr Desmond 
 resolutely maintained his right to consult his incli- 
 nation, rather than the family ambition, in his choice 
 of a wife. After five days of hot contention, the 
 affair was brought to a crisis by Sir John ; who gave 
 his nephew four and twenty hours to decide between 
 the alternative of immediately breaking off his en- 
 gagement with Miss Sullivan, or of banishment from 
 Methwold. 
 
 There was that in Sir John's manner and 
 language which roused the most vehement pas- 
 sion in Mr Desmond's breast. Unmindful, there- 
 fore, of the manifold . obligations he owed to his 
 uncle, he commenced instant preparation for leaving 
 the Abbey, and removing to Mrs Sullivan's house.
 
 46 
 
 Neither Sir John nor Miss Beaufort offered the 
 slightest impediment to this hasty step ; nor did 
 they manifest more concern when, after the lapse of 
 a fortnight, a few brief lines from Mr Desmond, 
 addressed to his cousin, announced that Agnes had 
 become his wife. From that time, however, Fran- 
 cis Desmond's name was never uttered by them : 
 every object that could awaken associations of any 
 kind in which her cousin mingled, was carefully re- 
 moved by Miss Beaufort; and the servants were 
 strictly forbidden to mention Mr Desmond, or to 
 revert to the period of his residence at the Abbey. 
 
 For some time after his marriage, affairs went on 
 pretty smoothly with Mr Desmond, and enabled him 
 to retaliate somewhat of the scornful indifference mani- 
 fested by his relatives. In his wife's devotion, and gen- 
 tle loveable temper, he found that domestic happiness 
 and repose which his cousin's haughty stateliness effec- 
 tually banished from his former home at Methwold. 
 
 Yet Agnes, despite her beauty and unwearied at- 
 tachment, was not the wife Mr Desmond's circum- 
 stances required. Her character lacked moral eleva- 
 tion, and those stronger points which should have 
 stimulated and encouraged her husband's energy and 
 perseverance, resolutely to combat the adverse position
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 47 
 
 his marriage with her entailed. Her lips never affec- 
 tionately admonished him of the danger of yielding, 
 as was too often Mr Desmond's habit, to a natural 
 indolence of disposition, that prompted him to in- 
 dulge at home when business imperatively demanded 
 his attention elsewhere ; or of that ruinous, indiscri- 
 minate expenditure in trifling matters, which his pre- 
 vious affluence in some measure had rendered habitual. 
 Her affection and devotion imparted a charm hither- 
 to unknown to his hours of relaxation ; but like the 
 delicate flower that infolds itself, and shrinks at the 
 first murmurs of the coming storm, so the spirit of 
 Agnes drooped when adversity saddened her hus- 
 band's brow. Silent and resigned, she helped him not 
 in those hours of despondency, when the mind sinks 
 dejected under the pressure of misfortune : she never 
 spoke those words inciting to renewed hope or ex- 
 ertion, or kindled again that noble energy and stead- 
 fastness of purpose which, if rightly directed, must 
 ultimately prevail. 
 
 The first seven years of Mrs Desmond's married 
 life were, nevertheless, darkened with much domes- 
 tic sorrow,* hard even for her equable, unimaginative 
 disposition to endure. During this period, besides 
 the death of her mother, Agnes had to mourn the
 
 48 
 
 loss of two children ; and a few months after her mar- 
 riage, her beloved brother Basil also quitted Eng- 
 land, and she never subsequently heard from him. 
 
 Three more years elapsed, during which pecuniary 
 embarrassments increased upon Mr Desmond so 
 rapidly and overwhelmingly, that he was compelled 
 to resign his situation, and retire on the pension his 
 past services had earned. To reside longer then in Lon- 
 don was an impossibility : besides, Mrs Desmond's 
 failing health rendered a purer atmosphere indispens- 
 able. Agnes was again near her confinement ; and her 
 health, never strong, had long been yielding beneath 
 the inroads of poverty and anxiety. Some months, 
 therefore, after their removal from London, Margaret 
 was bom : but Mr Desmond's joy at his daughter's 
 birth was speedily converted into mourning; for 
 Agnes survived her accouchement only a few days. 
 
 It was during the dreary period of suspense pre- 
 ceding this sad event, that Mr Desmond's high 
 spirit — humbled by oft-repeated strokes of adversity, 
 and harrowed by witnessing the daily suffering, and 
 unremitting resignation with which his meek wife 
 submitted to the privations their position imposed — 
 bent itself to appeal to the compassionate genero- 
 sity of Sir John Beaufort and his daughter.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 49 
 
 About two years after Mr Desmond's marriage, 
 Sir John had suddenly broken up his establishment 
 at the Abbey, for causes which ever continued to 
 mystify the neighbourhood ; and after travelling 
 about for some time on the Continent, took up his 
 abode in Rome ; where he had since resided, in a 
 style of splendour infinitely in accordance with Miss 
 Beaufort's haughty, ostentatious spirit. 
 
 Before she quitted the Abbey, a new aspirant for 
 Agatha's hand appeared in the person of Mr James 
 Somerton, second son of Sir Henry Somerton ; who 
 resided at Dingley Grange, a mansion in the imme- 
 diate vicinity of Methwold. Of rank sufficiently ele- 
 vated, as even Agatha acknowledged, to match witli 
 a Beaufort, Mr James Somerton possessed an easy 
 good temper, and a pliability of mind calculated to 
 recommend him to the favour of a woman of Miss 
 Beaufort's imperious temperament. He knew how 
 to yield and fall in with her prejudices, while posses- 
 sing the art of veiling the extent of his compliance : 
 in short, Miss Beaufort bestowed upon him as much 
 of her esteem and regard as she had at her disposal. 
 
 There was one thing, however, Agatha was not 
 disposed to overlook; and which, despite her pre- 
 possession, ultimately sufficed to turn the scale against 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 
 
 Mr Somerton's pretensions : he was a younger son, 
 and the income arising from his commission in the 
 Guards was the amount of his worldly wealth. After 
 being suffered, therefore, to make due exhibition of 
 his devotion, he received a summary dismissal from 
 the lips of Sir John. Four months later, Mr James 
 Somerton, by the accidental death of his elder bro- 
 ther, became heir to his father's estates and title. 
 Vainly then, it was whispered, Miss Beaufort put 
 forth her most winning blandishments, to lure back her 
 rejected suitor to his allegiance. Mr Somerton, how- 
 ever, was not to be so propitiated ; and soon after- 
 wards, to her intense mortification, Agatha heard of 
 his engagement to another lady, her superior in rank, 
 though far beneath herself in personal charms. Un- 
 able, therefore, it was reported, to brook the whispered 
 comments and conjectures of their friends and the 
 public, on the disappointment of her ambition ; and 
 wishing to avoid, for the present, a meeting with 
 the new Lady Mary Somerton ; Miss Beaufort's im- 
 portunity induced Sir John, though much against 
 his inclination, to break up his establishment 
 at the Abbey, and fix his residence abroad for some 
 years. 
 
 From the period of Mr Desmond's marriage, how-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 51 
 
 ever, it was remarked that, if possible, Miss Beau- 
 fort shrouded herself in deeper and more impenetrable 
 reserve. Her face, likewise, in its calm severe beauty, 
 became almost rigid in its expression of passionless 
 repose; while her queenly figure towered above all 
 others in lofty dignity of carnage. No one guessed, 
 however, the bitterness of spirit which tortured her 
 solitary hours, and that made her loathe, and with 
 shuddering aversion submit to, whatever brought 
 her in contact with the world, or compelled her to 
 put even momentary restraint on her wayward de- 
 pression. 
 
 Cold and outwardly insensible, the people she 
 associated with abroad, at length began to con- 
 template her marvellous beauty with the wonder- 
 ing admiration they bestowed on a faultless piece 
 of statuary. Numerous, nevertheless, were the 
 suitors Sir John's great wealth procured for his 
 daughter's hand : but Miss Beaufort steadily declared 
 it to be her intention not to take a husband dur- 
 ing her father's lifetime ; and no one of her ad- 
 mirers proved enamoured enough to make any 
 very energetic endeavour to induce her to alter her 
 resolution. 
 
 Such were Miss Beaufort's circumstances and posi- 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARY
 
 52 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 tion when Mr Desmond's letter reached her : but no 
 spark of relenting pity for him kindled at her heart. 
 Vehement in her resentments, her spirit hated with 
 all the unswerving pertinacity of which a character 
 strong and resolute of purpose as her own was cap- 
 able. Not a syllable of her cousin's appeal did she 
 think it necessary to submit to Sir John ; and a very 
 few minutes after its reception, the fire consumed 
 that which it had cost Mr Desmond so bitter a pang 
 to write. 
 
 From that time to the period when our tale opens, 
 Mr Desmond made no further attempt to propitiate 
 his unforgiving relatives. A year after his wife's 
 death he married the daughter of the village surgeon, 
 whose skill had soothed Agnes's dying moments. 
 Most conscientiously Mrs Desmond fulfilled her 
 duties towards her husband's motherless little daugh- 
 ter, and as the latter grew up to womanhood, her care 
 and affection met with its due reward ; for Margaret, 
 despite the frequent want of consistency in her step- 
 mother's character, loved her with devoted affection. 
 
 For many years Mr Desmond's intelligence of Sir 
 John and his daughter came only through indirect 
 channels, and at long intervals. About two years 
 after the date of his second marriage, they quitted
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 53 
 
 Rome ; in consequence, as it was reported, of a serious 
 fracas between Sir John and his secretary : a mys- 
 terious affair, in which, as usual, Miss Beaufort's 
 turbulent temper was supposed to take the lead. 
 
 Sir John set out immediately on his journey back 
 to the Abbey — the more hastily, as his daughter's 
 health had been for some time in a declining state, 
 and a speedy return to her native air was enjoined as 
 essential to her recovery. Whether, however, from 
 agitation consequent on her hurried journey, or that 
 the strivings of her restless spirit had completely ex- 
 hausted her physical powers, by the time she reached 
 Milan, Miss Beaufort became so dangerously ill as to 
 be totally unable to proceed. For many weeks 
 Agatha hovered between life and death ; and when 
 pronounced out of danger, her progress towards con- 
 valescence was slow and unsteady. Throughout 
 Miss Beaufort's illness she was assiduously attended 
 by her maid Cartaret, — the only personage, except- 
 ing her father, for whom she ever exhibited the 
 slightest consideration. 
 
 As soon as his daughter was able to travel, Sir 
 John, who had submitted with visible impatience and 
 irritation to the unavoidable delay at Milan, imme- 
 diately resumed his homeward journey.
 
 54 
 
 From the period of Sir John's return to Methwold 
 till his death, which happened about eighteen months 
 afterwards, the little intercourse which existed be- 
 tween Miss Beaufort and her father became a matter 
 of general comment in their household. Days elapsed 
 without their meeting ; and when together, there was 
 a cold taunting indifference in Sir John's tone and 
 deportment, while addressing his daughter, which at- 
 tracted universal attention. The cause of this extraor- 
 dinary coolness no one ever discovered ; for the care- 
 fully guarded deportment of both father and daughter 
 afforded nothing on which suspicion might even centre. 
 
 Public astonishment, however, reached its cli- 
 max w T hen, on the reading of Sir John Beaufort's 
 will, it was found that he had left everything in 
 his power to bequeath to his son, — Miss Beaufort's 
 name being only mentioned in a codicil lately ap- 
 pended, which prohibited her continued residence at 
 Methwold during her brother's absence, and alluded 
 to her being amply provided for by the twenty thou- 
 sand pounds secured to her by her mother's marriage 
 settlement. 
 
 Before one of Sir John's testamentary in- 
 junctions could be carried into effect, — nay, al- 
 most before he was laid in the grave — letters
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 55 
 
 arrived from India announcing Mr Beaufort's sud- 
 den death. As the latter died childless, and with- 
 out a will, the whole princely heritage of the 
 Beauforts of Methwold Abbey, centred in his only 
 sister Agatha. 
 
 This unexpected and triumphant accession to the 
 wealth and honours of her family, made no percep- 
 tible alteration in Miss Beaufort's mode of life. Dur- 
 ing the first ten years of her solitary state, she had 
 again numerous opportunities of changing her con- 
 dition; but all matrimonial overtures she steadily 
 declined. 
 
 After a further lapse of time, conceiving it to be 
 more suitable to her dignity, and the influential posi- 
 tion which she occupied, Miss Beaufort dropped her 
 maidenly appellation, and was thenceforth addressed 
 as Mrs Agatha Beaufort.
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 During the next few weeks, as if by mutual consent, 
 no allusion to their proposed removal from Wood- 
 thorpe was volunteered by any member of Mr 
 Desmond's family. Mrs Beaufort's name also was 
 never mentioned amongst them ; yet morning after 
 morning, Margaret's earnest gaze riveted itself with 
 unspeakable anxiety on her father's face, on his return 
 from the village post-office. So frequently had she 
 heard Mr Desmond expatiate on the vindictiveness of 
 Mrs Beaufort's character, that her heart sank within 
 her ; and though she had strongly counselled, and 
 even spoken positively to her father of the un- 
 doubted success of his application, something like 
 the chill of despair now mingled with her suspense. 
 Yet Margaret's grief sprang not from that hope- 
 lessness which prostrates the soul in indescribable 
 bitterness, and by sapping as it were its vital 
 energies, leaves it the prey and sport of unrestrained
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 57 
 
 impulse : she knew that a mighty though invisible 
 support through every difficulty is given to all who 
 ask and trust ; and in the assurance of this aid being 
 vouchsafed, she reposed. 
 
 Thoughts of high and courageous endurance of 
 impending evil mingled with her fears, and chased 
 away the desponding melancholy which oppressed her 
 heart, as Margaret sat alone in her own little room, some 
 ten weeks after the despatch of her father's letter 
 toMethwold; again anxiously awaiting his return from 
 the village. Her arm rested upon an open book on the 
 table before her ; but it was not the contents of its 
 page which kindled again and again the changeful 
 hue of her cheek, or filled her soft eyes with 
 tears. At length the door of the room opened, 
 and Mrs Desmond appeared. Margaret hastily 
 looked up. 
 
 " Your father is not yet returned, Margaret. I do 
 not suppose, however, that he will bring back a 
 letter from odious Mrs Beaufort : she evidently 
 does not intend to vouchsafe an answer. I am con- 
 vinced now, that no aid will be forthcoming from 
 Methwold!" exclaimed Mrs Desmond, advancing to 
 the table, and laying her hand on Margaret's 
 shoulder.
 
 5S AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 "Yet you thought differently, mamma, when it 
 was first proposed that papa should write to Mrs 
 Beaufort." 
 
 " Yes ; but I am quite of a different opinion now. 
 Mrs Beaufort would have written long ago had she 
 intended to make amends for the injury she has 
 done your father," replied Mrs Desmond quickly ; 
 then drawing a chair to the table, she sat down. 
 
 There was an expression of unusual restraint on 
 Mrs Desmond's good-humoured face, and a slight 
 embarrassment in her tone and manner, which did 
 not escape Margaret's observation. Mrs Desmond 
 presently rose from her chair, and leaning out of the 
 window, busied herself in bending back to its place 
 a luxuriant branch of roses, which still in defiance 
 of the weather drooped a shower of fragrant flowers 
 on the window-sill. She then resumed her seat. 
 Margaret did not speak, knowing that her mother's 
 anxiety, from whatever cause it might arise, would 
 speedily vent itself in words. 
 
 " Mr Compton has been sitting with me ever since 
 your father left for his walk, Margaret," at length 
 said she, in tones as indifferent as she could com- 
 mand. 
 
 Margaret acknowledged this piece of intelligence
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 59 
 
 "by a brief monosyllable ; then Mrs Desmond con- 
 tinued hastily, with rather heightened colour : 
 
 " You will be displeased with me I know, Mar- 
 garet, for broaching the subject again to you ; — but 
 have you quite made up your mind to reject George 
 Gompton's addresses ? Mr Compton, in the most 
 honourable, candid manner, stated this morning, that 
 the day he could welcome you as his daughter-in- 
 law would be the proudest and happiest of his life. 
 He earnestly entreated me to use my influence with 
 you in behalf of his son. As you know, Margaret, 
 our poverty and obscurity must ever prevent you 
 marrying in your father's former sphere, and as at pre- 
 sent you can have no other attachment, consider before 
 you reject a young man so very superior as George 
 Compton — one who can offer you future affluence !" 
 
 Mrs Desmond paused. She had urged her daugh- 
 ter's compliance in stronger language than she 
 would have ventured to utter in her husband's pre- 
 sence. Yet in exhorting Margaret to do violence to 
 the feelings she had so frequently heard her express, 
 Mrs Desmond was conscious of no want of principle : 
 for she devoutly believed that, after Margaret's youth- 
 ful imaginings had had time to subside, she would 
 bestow her regard on the husband who had given
 
 60 
 
 her the comfortable, prosperous home, blended with a 
 devotion so complete as she knew George Compton's 
 was likely to be. Eagerly, therefore, Mrs Desmond 
 listened for Margaret's reply. 
 
 "Did not Mr Compton tell you that I declined 
 his son's proposals again last night, mamma ? That 
 decision nothing shall induce me to revoke. It 
 would be utterly repugnant to my feelings to become 
 Mr George Compton's wife : not that I think his 
 station in life beneath me, only that I do not, and 
 never can, love him. But you have something more 
 to tell me, mamma. May I not see that letter in 
 your hand ?" asked Margaret, in calmer tones. 
 
 Again the colour rose to Mrs Desmond's cheeks. 
 She hastily withdrew her hand. 
 
 " Although you speak so unconcernedly of Mr 
 Compton and his son, I assure you we are more 
 deeply indebted to them than you imagine, Marga- 
 ret," rejoined she, in that tone of mingled displeasure 
 and defiance which people often assume when they 
 do not feel very sure how their next communication 
 may be received. " Mr Compton has acted the part 
 of a true and sincere friend to us in our difficulties. 
 Considering, most justly, that it might be highly 
 disagreeable to your father to accept pecuniary aid
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 61 
 
 from him as matters stand between George Compton 
 and yourself, Mr Compton resolved to enlist Mr So- 
 merton's friendship in our behalf. Accordingly, this 
 morning he obtained an interview with the latter, 
 and the result is what you must now read;" and Mrs 
 Desmond placed a letter before her daughter. 
 
 Margaret eagerly took it up. It enclosed a cheque 
 for the amount owing to Mr Compton. For some 
 minutes Margaret remained silent, after perusing Mr 
 Somerton's courteously worded letter to her father. 
 
 "It is generous — most generous. Mr Somerton 
 does not belie his high character. Yet, mamma, I 
 am very much mistaken if this loan from a perfect 
 stranger will not be a source of great annoyance to 
 papa : neither do I think that Mr Compton was 
 justified in making the application without first con- 
 sulting us." 
 
 " Margaret, your fastidiousness is enough to pro- 
 voke a saint. What in the world is there to prevent 
 your father from availing himself of Mr Somerton's 
 generosity ? What can this paltry sum be to him ? 
 I shall advise your father to accept this aid, repay 
 Mr Compton, and thus extricate himself from his 
 difficulties. I hope you will do so likewise." 
 
 Miss Desmond shook her head.
 
 62 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 " Mamma, if I am right in judging papa's feelings 
 by my own, lie will consider himself bound to repay 
 Mr Somerton as speedily as he would have done 
 Mr Compton," replied she decisively. 
 
 Mrs Desmond's face clouded over. 
 
 " Well, Margaret, we seem beset with difficulties 
 on every side by your ridiculous scruples. Perhaps it 
 will be better to allow your father to decide for him- 
 self. Mr Somerton will soon forget his kind deed 
 towards us, for Mr Compton says it is reported that 
 he is going to be married ; so you need not shrink 
 under a sense of humiliation every time you encoun- 
 ter his eye," rejoined she, rather wrathfully. 
 
 Margaret arose. 
 
 " Who is Mr Somerton going to marry?" asked 
 she hastily. 
 
 " The report after all may only be a piece of 
 scandal, you know, my dear : but Mr Compton 
 said that he understood Mr Somerton was engaged 
 to many a Miss Berners ; and strangely enough, 
 he added, that she was a connexion of Mrs Beau- 
 fort's of Methwold Abbey. Did you ever hear of 
 this Miss Berners before, Margaret?" 
 
 u A niece of the late Lady Blanche Beaufort's 
 married a Captain Berners. Mr Somerton's be-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 63 
 
 trothed must be her daughter I suppose/' replied 
 Margaret thoughtfully. 
 
 " Probably, my dear : I dare say, however, it will not 
 signify to us who she is. Here comes your father !" 
 exclaimed Mrs Desmond, hurriedly quitting the room. 
 
 Margaret approached the window. A presenti- 
 ment that her father's walk would not have its usual 
 fruitless issue, and that tidings of some kind from 
 Mrs Beaufort would greet him, had haunted her 
 throughout the morning. Mr Desmond was walking 
 slowly up the lane towards his house. Anxiously 
 Margaret sought some index on her father's face to 
 solve her suspense ; he looked grave, and she thought 
 sterner than usual. Mrs Desmond met him at the 
 garden gate ; then, after the exchange of a few words, 
 the sudden disappearance of the smile which almost 
 always beamed on her step-mother's good-natured 
 face, convinced Margaret that her father's communi- 
 cation was not of the most cheering nature. She 
 immediately descended to the dining-room. Mr 
 Desmond was standing with his back to the fireplace. 
 " There is Mrs Beaufort's letter, Margaret. Kead 
 it. You will find that we cannot at any rate accuse 
 her of inconsistency!" said Mr Desmond bitterly,
 
 64 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 as his daughter entered the room, pointing to an 
 open letter on the table. 
 
 Margaret took up the letter. Mrs Beaufort's 
 writing was clear and bold, and the character strong. 
 It was evident also, from the frequent underlining 
 of sentences and words, that her communication was 
 intended to be especially emphatic and decisive. 
 The letter was as follows : — 
 
 " Methwold Abbey. 
 
 " Mrs Beaufort has to acknowledge the receipt of a 
 letter from Mr Desmond, stating his pecuniary embar- 
 rassments, and pleading to be released therefrom on 
 the grounds of family affinity, and of the cordial friend- 
 ship which once existed between them. 
 
 " Mrs Beaufort avows herself totally unable to com- 
 prehend how, with even the semblance of consistency, 
 Mr Desmond can frame his request on either of these 
 pleas. She should have imagined, with regard to the 
 first, that few could so well appreciate the prompt 
 unerring retribution with which the Beauforts 
 punish discredit due to their house and race, as 
 one bearing the name of Desmond. As for the 
 second reason, on which Mr Desmond excuses his
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 65 
 
 application, Mrs Beaufort feels surprised that he 
 considers it worth while to recall or revert to the 
 friendship she formerly felt for him ; when it proved 
 incapable of awakening him to a sense of what 
 was due to his family, or of saving him from a con- 
 nexion degrading and, as it has proved, ruinous in 
 every respect. 
 
 " Having stated so much, upon the principle of 
 relieving necessity wherever she meets with it, Mrs 
 Beaufort proposes, as she has been sometime in 
 search of a lady to act towards her in the capacity of 
 companion and reader, to appoint Miss Desmond to 
 that post, with a yearly salary of fifty pounds. 
 Should it suit Mr Desmond to accept this offer, Mrs 
 Beaufort is willing moreover to bestow upon him, as 
 some compensation for the loss of his daughter's 
 society, an annual stipend of £200. Miss Desmond 
 will occupy in Mrs Beaufort's household the same rank 
 and position that her mother before her marriage would 
 there have been entitled to hold. It is also Mrs Beau- 
 fort's express desire thai Miss Desmond should never 
 allude publicly or privately (especially in the presence 
 of Miss Bemers) to the family connexion subsisting 
 between them. Any infringement of this condition 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 66 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 on Miss Desmond's part will be followed by the im- 
 mediate loss of Airs Beaufort's patronage. 
 
 " If Mrs Beaufort does not receive an answer by 
 return of post, she will conclude that her offer is 
 rejected. Should Miss Desmond, however, resolve 
 to avail herself of the proposal, Mrs Beaufort will 
 send her maid Cartaret to meet her, next Wed- 
 nesday-week at four o'clock in the afternoon, at the 
 Denbridge Station." 
 
 For some moments Margaret remained silent after 
 the perusal of Airs Beaufort's letter : although her 
 heroism generally enabled her to conquer outward 
 emotion, tears now swiftly stole down her cheeks. 
 The disappointment was bitter ; for Mrs Beaufort's 
 taunts struck with a pang deeper and more acute 
 than she could have supposed possible. 
 
 " Margaret, my darling child, console yourself. 
 Did I not tell you how hopeless it was to trust that 
 Agatha Beaufort's heart could relent? Now she 
 would wreak her hatred upon you, my child, as she 
 did on your poor mother ! Weep not, Margaret : let 
 me not see that Agatha Beaufort has power to wring 
 tears from you also !" exclaimed Mr Desmond vehe-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 67 
 
 mently, as he stooped, and kissed his daughter's 
 brow. " Give me the letter, Margaret," continued 
 he sternly, after a pause. " I will destroy it : then 
 never let her abhorred name be mentioned more 
 amongst us." 
 
 Margaret's ringers, however, closed resolutely over 
 the letter, and she gently put aside her father's 
 hand. 
 
 " Papa, I must accept Mrs Beaufort's offer. Do 
 not attempt to reason me out of this resolve. Dear 
 papa, should the bondage be too galling, you know 
 I can return home immediately — only suffer me to 
 make the experiment." 
 
 Mr Desmond fixed his eyes earnestly on his 
 daughter's changeful features. Tears stood in Mar- 
 garet's eyes; and her face, flushed with emotion, was 
 anxiously turned towards him. 
 
 "Margaret, are you mad? Can it be that you 
 seriously propose to me to consent that you should 
 place yourself in the power of that hard unscrupu- 
 lous woman?" exclaimed Mr Desmond, at length. 
 
 " Let us not refuse the assistance Mrs Beaufort 
 so ungraciously tenders, papa. Our distress, and 
 perhaps a feeling of self-reproach likewise, have evi- 
 dently softened her heart towards us ; else win
 
 68 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 should not your appeal have been disregarded like 
 the former one ? Let me try to be her companion : 
 perhaps I may win her to more gentleness. There 
 must be some accessible spot in her heart." 
 
 " After Mrs Beaufort's insulting allusions to your 
 mother, Margaret, you plead in vain. If you go to 
 Methwold it will be in defiance of my wish. With- 
 out sacrificing my daughter, I hope to be able to 
 repay the sum we owe," interrupted Mr Desmond 
 decisively, turning away with darkened brow. 
 
 " Nay, listen to me, papa ; for I cannot consent to 
 dismiss Mrs Beaufort and her offer so unceremoni- 
 ously," resumed Margaret firmly. " It is an unde- 
 niable fact that by some means our income must be 
 increased. That this cannot be achieved without a 
 sacrifice of some sort I suppose you will allow. Can 
 you suggest a more feasible project than the one I 
 propose?" 
 
 " I will not permit my daughter to be oppressed 
 by an unprincipled woman like Agatha Beaufort. 
 Let us change the subject, Margaret. You cannot 
 alter my decision." 
 
 Miss Desmond did not immediately reply; but 
 there lurked a quiet determination in her eye and 
 manner, which showed that, though for the moment
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 69 
 
 silenced, she was not convinced of the wisdom of her 
 father's decision. 
 
 " My dear Mr Desmond, if Margaret has quite set 
 her heart on making Mrs Beaufort's acquaintance, I 
 think it would be wrong to prevent her. Her resi- 
 dence at Methwold Abbey will open to her a much 
 wider sphere than she can ever expect at home," in- 
 terposed Mrs Desmond, looking up from her work ; 
 and speaking for the first time since Margaret's 
 entrance into the room. 
 
 " It will open to her a sphere of degradation ! Mrs 
 Beaufort uses less ceremony in inviting my daughter 
 to her house than she would employ in hiring her 
 lowest menial. Poor Agnes ! her child shall not be 
 sacrificed!" 
 
 "Margaret could return home again, you know, 
 Mr Desmond, if she found Mrs Beaufort's society in- 
 tolerable. But in my opinion she will become a 
 great favourite at the Abbey." 
 
 "Pshaw! spoken like a true woman; who pro- 
 foundly believes whatever she wishes, however 
 improbable ! But I little dreamed to find apologists 
 for Agatha Beaufort around my own hearth," ex- 
 claimed Mr Desmond angrily. 
 
 " Nay ; we do not advocate Mrs Beaufort's cause,
 
 70 
 
 dear papa : but since some sacrifice of independence 
 must be made, is it not better to accept that which 
 we have a right to claim at her hands, rather than be 
 indebted to a stranger ? Is it not easier, dear papa, for 
 me to submit to a temporary bondage under Mrs Beau- 
 fort — which the act of quitting Methwold would ter- 
 minate — rather than to a life of perpetual restraint 
 by becoming George Compton's wife?" And Margaret 
 knelt by her father's chair, and her soft arms twined 
 themselves caressingly round his neck. 
 
 " Your marrying George Compton, Margaret, you 
 know is quite out of the question ; but " 
 
 " What do you say then, papa, to my seeking an 
 engagement as a governess, until our affairs are in a 
 more prosperous condition ?" quickly resumed Mar- 
 garet, vigorously pursuing her point. 
 
 " Nonsense, Margaret ! you weary me with your 
 importunity. One would imagine that you had some 
 weighty personal interest in the matter," rejoined 
 Mr Desmond impatiently ; and his eyes riveted them- 
 selves keenly on his daughter's blushing cheek. 
 
 " And so she has, Mr Desmond : Margaret wishes 
 to avoid George Compton's assiduities. After all, if 
 she does not like Methwold, she is not obliged to 
 remain ; therefore making Mrs Beaufort's acquaint-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 71 
 
 ance need not "be the terrible ordeal you imagine. 
 You will be sure to meet Mr Somerton at Methwold, 
 Margaret/' exclaimed Mrs Desmond in her most even 
 tones, still intently plying her needle. 
 
 A deep blush suffused Margaret's face ; and her 
 eyes fell beneath her father's sudden glance of as- 
 tonishment. 
 
 u Oh, mamma, " 
 
 u If Margaret, or you my dear, have any design to 
 elevate Mr Somerton into George Compton's rival, 
 it strikes me that the shortest way to clinch the matter 
 would be to open negotiations at once, whilst he is at 
 Woodthorpe : the affair, believe me, could be ad- 
 justed with much greater regard to Margaret's interest 
 than when she has entered upon her menial duties at 
 the Abbey. Your project, my dear, is as rare and 
 unique as Agatha's matchless arrogance in command- 
 ing my daughter to conceal her relationship to her!" 
 observed Mr Desmond impetuously, rising and quit- 
 ting the room. 
 
 Margaret sat motionless : the energy which en- 
 abled her to combat her father's displeasure seemed 
 fading away, and yielding to that feeling of listless 
 apathy which at once defies and disregards a dreaded 
 future. Mrs Beaufort's letter lay open on the table
 
 72 
 
 before her; and as Margaret's eye mechanically 
 glanced over her stern, harsh sentences, a chill of de- 
 spairing repugnance overpowered her, and she was 
 tempted to contend no more for that which promised 
 so unprofitable a termination. Tears of wounded 
 pride rolled down her cheeks, as she presently re- 
 perused it slowly and carefully : but Margaret, 
 though sensitively alive to its cutting taunts, felt not 
 humbled. Hers was one of those rare minds, not 
 over-confident in its own merit, yet sufficiently en- 
 dowed with firmness and self-respect to repel such 
 a feeling as unworthy. Though nothing could be 
 meeker or more retiring than Margaret's ordinary 
 demeanour, the pure truth and rectitude which guided 
 her actions lent to her character a simple dignity, 
 both in thought and deed, surpassing that arising 
 from a consciousness of the most legitimate of out- 
 ward sources to challenge homage and considera- 
 tion. 
 
 Mrs Desmond, meanwhile, noticed not her fair 
 young daughter's abstraction ; being absorbed by the 
 needle- work in her hand, and in contemplating vari- 
 ous schemes for the future : all and each of which, 
 to her vivid fancy, presented innumerable advantages 
 easily realized ; and so halycon in their results,
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 76 
 
 that the only difficulty subsisting in Mrs Desmond's 
 mind was, to decide which to propose first. It 
 never occurred to her, however, but that Margaret 
 considered her father's warmly expressed opinion on 
 the subject of Mrs Beaufort's invitation, final. 
 
 At length, Margaret arose and quitted the room, 
 and Mrs Desmond saw her join her father in the 
 garden. Wondering not a little at her daughter's 
 courage and pertinacity — for in any domestic contest 
 there was a dry abruptness and irony in her husband's 
 manner, peculiarly daunting to a person of her san- 
 guine temperament — Mrs Desmond removed her 
 chair to the window, and for some twenty minutes 
 watched their deportment. 
 
 Margaret then quickly returned to the house ; her 
 mother listened to her hasty step as she ascended 
 the stairs. Soon she returned to the room with her 
 writing-desk in her hand, and the expression of her 
 face hovering between smiles and tears. 
 
 " Mamma, I shall at length be of some use to you. 
 Papa has given me permission to encounter this 
 terrible Mrs Beaufort, and allows me to answer her 
 letter," exclaimed Margaret, as she seated herself at 
 the table, and opened her desk. 
 
 Mrs Desmond did not reply ; but she approached,
 
 74 
 
 fondly kissed her daughter's cheek, and threw her 
 arms lovingly around her. Margaret hurriedly re- 
 turned the caress ; then she buried her face on her 
 mother's bosom, and wept. 
 
 It was after no little resolute perseverance, and 
 plainly stating to her father her determination not to 
 remain at home living in idleness, whilst his income 
 continued in so straitened a condition, that Margaret 
 had at length wrung from Mr Desmond his reluctant 
 assent to her project. Every argument she could 
 advance, Margaret put forth to subdue her father's 
 prejudices ; whose proud exclusiveness shrank from 
 the idea of his daughter having recourse, even in their 
 necessitous circumstances, to personal exertions of 
 any description. 
 
 Mr Desmond's misfortunes had rather tended to 
 increase than otherwise the morbid sensitiveness of 
 that false pride, fostered by the influences of his long 
 residence at Methwold Abbey, which under reverse 
 of fortune perceived degradation in the diligent exer- 
 cise of those mental talents and resources which 
 might have so greatly ameliorated his position. 
 Sooner than admit hi practice that his pretensions, 
 and the place he had hitherto occupied in society, 
 were above his means to support, Mr Desmond had
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 75 
 
 been content to withdraw from the world, and struggle 
 on with poverty in listless inaction ; provided that his 
 complacent ideas of his dignity were not disturbed, 
 or his pride lowered by the exchange of his profes- 
 sion for one less aristocratic perhaps, though more 
 lucrative, and better adapted to his position. So 
 greatly did this mistaken pride influence Mr Desmond, 
 that he found less humiliation in yielding to his 
 daughter's solicitations, and applying for relief from 
 his difficulties to Mrs Beaufort, after her repeated 
 slights, than in descending from his imaginary 
 sphere manfully to wrestle with them himself. 
 
 Not so, however, Margaret : she saw no disgrace or 
 loss of real dignity in employing the talents she pos- 
 sessed, and making them subservient to her own sup- 
 port, and that of those around her. At the same time 
 she keenly felt, what all who fall from a more exalted 
 sphere must feel, when reduced to make personal 
 exertion to eke out a livelihood: but, though she 
 mourned its necessity, she did not, like her father, 
 shrink from realizing and performing the duty. 
 
 Margaret, therefore, clearly and forcibly expressed 
 her views on the subject to Mr Desmond; who, find- 
 ing her fully determined, despite his remonstrances, 
 to act up to her principles— and also believing it to be
 
 76 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 
 
 desirable, on Mr Compton's account, that she should 
 leave Woodthorpe for a season — thought it less 
 degrading to his daughter to accept the home, how- 
 ever contemptuously offered by his haughty relative, 
 rather than seek a dependence amongst strangers.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 i 
 Grave and anxious were Margaret's thoughts when 
 she retired to her room for the night, on the day 
 her letter to Mrs Beaufort had been despatched. 
 The agitation which oppressed her during the day 
 had partially subsided, and the silence and darkness 
 fell soothingly around her. Yet Margaret's medita- 
 tions were very sorrowful, when she reflected on the 
 kind home and loving hearts she was about to aban- 
 don for the hard bondage awaiting her at Methwold 
 Abbey. 
 
 From her childhood, the name of Mrs Beaufort 
 had been associated in idea with everything harsh 
 and terrible ; and well she remembered listening, 
 with throbbing heart and burning resentment, to the 
 first recital her father volunteered of the unkindness 
 he had sustained at his cousin's hands. Yet strange
 
 78 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 and inexplicable was it to Margaret, that, apart from 
 her natural sorrow at leaving home, the knowledge 
 that she was deliberately placing herself under the 
 protection of this dreaded Mrs Beaufort, brought with 
 it no corresponding feelings of repugnance and awe. 
 
 Margaret's disposition was one essentially sanguine. 
 Sorrow and disappointments had not yet quenched 
 her spirit, or prostrated her energies ; so, buoyed 
 with the hope of accomplishing that which she had 
 so much at heart — to effect a reconciliation between 
 Mr Desmond and his cousin, and at the same time 
 to aid her father in his difficulties by personal ex- 
 ertion — she nerved herself with no common resolu- 
 tion for the experiment she had resolved to hazard. 
 
 Good, pure, and self-denying as were these mo- 
 tives of Margaret's for her contemplated sacrifice, there 
 still slumbered in the depths of her heart a hidden 
 prompting — a powerful impulse — to exchange her 
 quiet home for Methwold Abbey : so clothed, how- 
 ever, and disguised under the broad mantle of ex- 
 pediency and duty, that, could her secret by any pro- 
 cess have been analyzed and exposed, no one would 
 have beheld its revelation with feelings more indig- 
 nantly incredulous than herself. Leading a life of 
 almost utter seclusion, unconsciously Margaret'?
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 79 
 
 girlish imagination had, been smitten by the qualities 
 which adorned Mr Somerton's character. Through- 
 out the village of Woodthorpe, and indeed as far 
 as her own personal knowledge of the neighbourhood 
 went, Margaret had never heard his name mentioned 
 unaccompanied by words of applause and admira- 
 tion. Her youthful fancy was captivated by these 
 reputed qualities, united to a person and manner 
 eminently fascinating and graceful — a prepossession 
 against which, her retired, nun-like life offered no 
 antidote in the shape of contrast with other men. 
 
 Margaret had never exchanged a word in her 
 life with Mr Somerton — scarcely even the most 
 trifling passing salutation ; but instinctively she felt 
 there was that in the tone of his mind which would 
 sympathize with her own. To be known to him, 
 therefore, had long been her secret desire ; the gra- 
 tification of which she thought would be more easily 
 accomplished at Methwold : as Dingley Grange, the 
 place Sir James Somerton had relinquished to his 
 son on his coming of age, was in the immediate 
 vicinity of the Abbey. In short, merely on report, 
 without personal knowledge whatsoever, Mr Somer- 
 ton was the hero whom Margaret's ardent imagina- 
 tion invested with a halo of brilliant qualities; and
 
 80 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 unknowingly, he at length became the standard by 
 which she measured others, Reports of his kind- 
 ness and benevolence met her from all quarters. 
 The household at Woodthorpe Park spoke of their 
 young master with enthusiastic devotion ; regretted 
 his departure, and celebrated his return amongst 
 them again as a day of jubilee. With kindling 
 cheek she read of his brilliant triumphs in the 
 House ; and when beside this popularity and ho- 
 mage she contrasted the softer shades of his char- 
 acter — his devotion to his invalid mother, and his 
 unselfish disregard of personal interest to benefit 
 others — her admiration was augmented tenfold. 
 
 There was but one disagreeable sensation that 
 Margaret ever remembered experiencing in con- 
 junction with Leonard Somerton's name ; this was, 
 when her mother so suddenly alluded to his reported 
 engagement to Miss Berners — a rumour she did her 
 best to dismiss from her mind as improbable, on the 
 strength of the prevailing opinion in the neighbour- 
 hood, that as long as Lady Mary Somerton lived, 
 her son would never many. 
 
 The next few days brought the Desmonds another 
 stately epistle from Mrs Beaufort ; couched, never- 
 theless, in more gracious terms. The letter, more-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 81 
 
 over, contained the important announcement that 
 the first instalment of Mr Desmond's pension would 
 be transmitted the day following his daughter's 
 arrival at the Abbe}' : to cease when she left it ; and 
 concluded with a hope that Miss Desmond would 
 find much at Methwold to compensate for the loss 
 of her home. 
 
 The bustle and excitement of preparation for her 
 departure, detracted greatly from Margaret's grief at 
 leaving "YVoodthorpe ; yet still she suffered acutely 
 at the prospect of this first separation from her be- 
 loved parents. However sanguine were her hopes 
 of the good she would ultimately effect, by the 
 magical influence of her sunny smile and gentle 
 pleading, she could not help being sensitively alive 
 to the terrors besetting her debut at Methwold; nor 
 meditate on her approaching introduction to the 
 terrible Mrs Beaufort, without experiencing a very 
 natural and intense degree of trepidation. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the sorrow and disappoint- 
 ment of Mr Compton and his family, when Mar- 
 garet's approaching departure was announced : in- 
 deed, the same feeling was universally shared by 
 all her friends ; for her sweetness of disposition had 
 rendered her deservedly popular in the village. 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 82 
 
 Many, therefore, were the expressions of affectionate 
 regret which greeted Margaret, on the Sunday pre- 
 vious to her departure, on her road from church. 
 
 Much to her discomfiture, however, George Comp- 
 ton joined her, and persisted in accompanying her 
 home : he offered his arm ; but, annoyed at his 
 unremitting efforts to attract her notice, Margaret 
 declined to take it. Mr Compton coloured, but still 
 continued walking by her side. Margaret hastened 
 onwards, and was meditating on the most polite 
 method of bidding her companion farewell, when 
 she heard a step behind her, and in a moment or 
 two, Mr Somerton passed. He raised his hat, and 
 Margaret felt her coloru- waver under the earnest gaze 
 he bent, first upon herself and then on her companion. 
 
 At the small gate, a few yards distant, leading 
 to the terrace walk skirting the park, from whence 
 a footpath diverged straight to the mansion, Mr 
 Somerton paused, again earnestly looked at her, 
 and then pursued his way. Margaret glanced at 
 Mr Compton, and a feeling of painful embarrass- 
 ment caused her to turn aside, as she met his eyes 
 fixed upon her with sorrowful earnestness. He did 
 not address her again ; but when they reached the 
 gate leading to the footpath, he abruptly bade her
 
 OE FAMILY PRIDE. 83 
 
 farewell; and, much to Margaret's relief, paid no 
 more visits to her father before her departure. 
 
 The following few days passed swiftly and wearily 
 away ; as hours preceding any momentous event or 
 change in life always do. Margaret's first impulse, 
 when she arose on the morning appointed by Mrs 
 Beaufort for her journey to Methwold, was to ap- 
 proach the window, and gaze sorrowfully without. 
 
 A deep snow had fallen during the night, and 
 lay on the ground in masses pure and dazzling* 
 as crystal, contrasting beautifully with the blue 
 sky as the sunlight shone. Icicles drooped like 
 pendent diamonds from the boughs of the trees, 
 sparkling even to the smallest twig in a delicate 
 fretwork of ice. Here and there, a stately fir or 
 cedar tree, partially casting off its snowy mantle, 
 stood proudly forth, stretching its dark fan-like 
 branches of sombre green, and relieving the glaring- 
 brilliancy of the scene. Margaret lingered at the 
 window : her home, and the old familiar landscape 
 around it had never before seemed so dear or so 
 alluring as it did on this morning, when she was 
 about to say a long farewell ; and with an aching- 
 heart she completed her toilette, and descended to 
 the breakfast parlour. The meal over, Margaret
 
 84 
 
 and her father departed immediately for the railway 
 station at the neighbouring town. Little was said 
 during their drive thither. Margaret's heart felt too 
 full for words ; and Mr Desmond, uneasy and dissa- 
 tisfied with himself for permitting his consent to the 
 journey to have been extorted, talked little : save em- 
 phatically to admonish his daughter to return unhesi- 
 tatingly to her home, as soon as she had the slightest 
 cause to regret having been induced to leave it. To sa- 
 tisfy her father, Margaret promised, in lighter tones 
 than the sorrow she was really suffering warranted, 
 that whenever Mrs Beaufort's conduct rendered her 
 residence at Methwold insupportable, she would im- 
 plicitly obey his injunctions. 
 
 It was not until after she had exchanged her last 
 farewell with her father, and the train was slowly 
 put in motion, that Margaret began to realize the 
 full cost and bitterness of the experiment she had 
 so pertinaciously resolved to hazard. She drew 
 down her veil, and for the first half-hour wept bit- 
 terly ; utterly regardless of the astonishment her 
 sorrow might occasion her fellow-passengers : who, 
 she observed on entering the carriage, consisted 
 only of a lady and gentleman, occupying seats at 
 its opposite end. She was, however, too miserable
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 85 
 
 and absorbed in her reverie to notice the deportment 
 or peculiarities of her companions ; and for many 
 miles silence remained unbroken. At length the 
 lady suddenly, and without previously intimating 
 her intention, let down the window-glass ; an opera- 
 tion calling forth the most unequivocal growl of 
 dismay from her opposite neighbour. A conver- 
 sation thereupon ensued between the two; which, 
 despite her distress, irresistibly provoked Mar- 
 garet's laughter and curiosity; and for the first 
 time she threw back her veil, and attentively sur- 
 veyed her companions. 
 
 The one was a fat middle-aged lady clad in deep 
 mourning, her black ribbons and bonnet somewhat 
 subduing the ruddy hue of her complexion, — a bloom 
 perhaps deepened by the indignation evoked by her 
 neighbour's remonstrance. The expression of her 
 face, when nothing went contrary, might perhaps have 
 indicated a certain degree of easy good-nature ; for her 
 features were large, well developed, and harmonized 
 together; but now there was an irritability in the 
 glance of her sharp black eyes, and something par- 
 ticularly provoking in the ironical smile which curled 
 the corners of her mouth, as the gentleman in sup- 
 port of his argument pointed to the snow-flakes that
 
 86 AGATHA BEAUFOKT, 
 
 had already drifted through the window, and settled 
 upon the huge black silk cloak flung across her. 
 
 There was something, however, so peculiarly 
 strange and singular in the appearance and deport- 
 ment of the gentleman, her opponent, that Margaret's 
 eyes involuntarily riveted themselves in amazement 
 upon him. He was of diminutive stature, and of a 
 thin spare figure ; his complexion was fair, slightly 
 inclined to sallowness, of that peculiar unhealthy 
 hue produced either by recent sickness, or by long 
 residence in a tropical clime ; his features were small 
 and strongly marked with small-pox; the nose re- 
 trousse, and the mouth wide. His eyes were long, 
 of a pale grey hue, and deeply set in the head, peer- 
 ing from under the heavy overhanging brow with a 
 quick cunning expression. His forehead had a slight 
 habitual contraction, and was shaded by a profusion of 
 sandy-coloured hair, straying over the brow in a most 
 refractory manner, and evidently unaccustomed to a 
 very frequent application of brush, comb, or pomatum. 
 
 The apparel of the strange little man, neverthe- 
 less, evinced a greater regard to personal adornment ; 
 though the tout ensemble unluckily combined to ren- 
 der tenfold more conspicuous an ugliness to which 
 Margaret's experience of the world and its inhabitants
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 87 
 
 offered as yet no parallel. He was muffled up to the 
 chin in a scarf of the brightest scarlet cashmere, while 
 his diminutive figure was enveloped in a huge wool- 
 len roquelaure of scarlet, and black plaid lined with 
 the finest sable, and fastened by a clasp across the 
 chest. A book lay open upon his knee : his travel- 
 ling cap, also scarlet velvet edged by a band of sable, 
 was tossed aside, and thrown amidst a heap of news- 
 papers and packages on the adjoining seat. 
 
 " Well, madam, the next time you travel in the 
 depth of winter, I advise you to take your place in a 
 third class carriage ; where you may have air to your 
 heart's content, — besides wind, rain, and snow, ad 
 libitum, without endangering the lives of your fellow- 
 passengers!" angrily exclaimed the unknown, in a 
 voice surprisingly loud and sonorous, as the irate 
 lady again resisted his endeavour to draw up the 
 glass, by placing her hand across the window- 
 frame. 
 
 " I don't want your advice, sir, on a matter in 
 which I can please myself : though it strikes me also, 
 that people who muffle themselves up until they look 
 like a bale of carpet, and who fly into a passion at 
 breathing a whiff of pure air, should either stay at
 
 88 
 
 home, or take a carriage, and box themselves up 
 alone !" responded the lady, in tones of dogged con- 
 tempt. 
 
 " A whiff of pure air ! You must be mad, madam. 
 Another hour's experience of this delightful breeze 
 will find us metamorphosed into frozen statues, grin- 
 ning at each other like Egyptian sphinxes ! Were 
 you ever in Egypt, madam?" The lady vouchsafed 
 no other notice of this query save an indignant shrug 
 of the shoulders. Her unknown antagonist then re- 
 sumed in tones of deeper exasperation, as the storm 
 which had been gradually gathering now burst forth, 
 and large flakes of snow whirled past the window in 
 rapid, dazzling circles. u I am surprised, madam, 
 that your years have not taught you greater pru- 
 dence : but one may as well try to drive a stubborn 
 camel, as to teach some women wisdom. Don't you 
 know, ma'am, that her most gracious Majesty's great- 
 grandfather died from exposure to a draught?" and 
 the unknown proceeded to envelop himself from 
 head to foot in his cloak, and still fixed his sharp 
 piercing eyes on his opponent's face, to see how she 
 bore this last attack. 
 
 Margaret now interposed — perceiving by the sullen
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 89 
 
 offended air with which the lady turned away, and 
 deliberately took a book from her travelling reticule, 
 that she did not intend to be rated into compliance, 
 or to take compassion on the evidently shivering con- 
 dition of her irritable neighbour — and in her usual 
 kind tone of voice offered to change places with the 
 unknown : the more so, as her shawl and a variety 
 of parcels filled the seat opposite to her own ; thus ex- 
 cluding the unfortunate gentleman from any chance 
 of escaping the draught he appeared so intensely to 
 dread. 
 
 There was something in the sound of Mar- 
 garet's voice — perhaps it might be its contrast with 
 the rough harsh accents of his obdurate neighbour 
 opposite — which made the unknown turn and survey 
 her with a glance so prolonged and earnest, that, half 
 offended at his uncivil reception of her offer, she 
 averted her head; resolved to make no further at- 
 tempt to play the amiable to individuals so unpro- 
 mising as both her companions. At length, after a 
 pause of some minutes, the unknown gentleman 
 signified in very audible tones his intention of ac- 
 cepting her proffered civility ; then gathering up 
 the folds of his cloak, and selecting several news- 
 papers from the heap by his side, he arose. Mar-
 
 90 
 
 garet silently complied, * though she felt inclined to 
 resent the impertinent scrutiny again "bestowed upon 
 her face and figure by the eccentric little man. 
 
 Until they reached the next station the belligerents 
 pretended to be absorbed by their books. As soon 
 as the train stopped, the lady, uttering an ejaculation 
 of thankfulness that her journey was ended, left the 
 carriage; when, to Margaret's astonishment and 
 alarm, the unknown darted into the seat the former 
 had just quitted, and without the slightest apology 
 thrust himself before her ; and putting his head out 
 of the window, despite the unpropitious state of the 
 elements, vociferously hailed a porter. He next ab- 
 ruptly turned towards her and demanded how far she 
 was going to travel. Margaret, in extreme amaze- 
 ment, replied that she was going to Denbridge. A 
 complacent smile beamed on the little man's face ; 
 then, turning to the porter who now stood at the car- 
 riage door, he thrust something into his hand, ex- 
 claiming — 
 
 " There ! go and take four tickets for Denbridge. 
 Now don't stand staring like an idiot, man ! Do you 
 understand ? I want four tickets : and mind, tell the 
 guard that this whole carnage is taken, and he is not 
 to admit a soul into it until we get to Denbridge !
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 91 
 
 You don't catch me travelling again with a plethoric 
 old dowager, floundering like a whale in shallow 
 water at the sight of a closed window!" murmured 
 he, as he sank back again into his seat. 
 
 The porter presently returned with the tickets. 
 With the most ungracious mien the strange little 
 gentleman snatched them from the man's hand, then 
 desiring him to keep any change there might be, he 
 tossed the tickets on the opposite seat, and with an 
 impatient wave of the hand drew up the window- 
 glass. 
 
 Half frightened and half amused, Margaret sat 
 wondering what her companion would do or say 
 next ; and, to tell the truth, not a little dismayed at 
 the prospect of a two hours' tete-a-tete with him. 
 Lounging back in the carriage, however, and com- 
 fortably wrapped in the ample folds of his roquelaure, 
 a meditative mood seemed to have replaced his late 
 excitement ; and, but that now and then she caught 
 his eyes riveted on her face with the same earnest 
 scrutiny before so displeasing to her, Margaret might 
 have concluded that her strange friend was now as 
 little desirous to attract her attention as she was to 
 be entertained by his conversation.
 
 92 
 
 " So, young lady, the Denbridge station is your 
 ultima ihule this morning?" exclaimed he abruptly. 
 
 Margaret coldly bowed: nevertheless, she raised 
 her eyes with curiosity to her companion's face ; so 
 different was the inflection of his voice from its pre- 
 vious uninviting tones. 
 
 " I am going as far as Denbridge also. It is lucky 
 that we met. I thought that you belonged to the old 
 woman in black whom we have just turned out, as you 
 tried so amiably to atone for her abominable obsti- 
 nacy. All stubborn old hags ought to undergo the 
 Grand Seignior's discipline of the sack and the Bos- 
 phorus ! But how cold you look!" and without 
 further ceremony the whimsical old man seized a 
 cloak and wrapped it round Margaret. " I know a 
 great deal about Denbridge and its inhabitants. Is 
 your home there, young lady?" 
 
 Startled and surprised by the abruptness of the 
 action, and the quaint kindness of her companion's 
 words and manner, Margaret had not time to reply, 
 before the unknown impatiently repeated his ques- 
 tion ; though in tones more peremptory than before. 
 
 " I have no friends at Denbridge," at length re- 
 plied Margaret, coldly.
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 93 
 
 " Do your friends then reside in its neighbour- 
 hood?" 
 
 " Yes, I believe so," replied Margaret demurely ; 
 amused, though not liking the freedom of the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " You believe so ! Cannot you state plainly whe- 
 ther the fact is so or not, young lady ? That pretty 
 face, and those tearful eyes, if I am not mistaken, tell 
 a tale that this journey of yours is the reverse of a 
 pleasurable one. I live near Denbridge, as I before 
 told you : so if it is in my power to be of any assist- 
 ance in seeking out these friends, believe me, my 
 dear young lady, it will give me very great pleasure 
 to be useful to you, in this or any other way in which 
 you may please to command my services ! " 
 
 Notwithstanding the oddity and abruptness of the 
 offer, there was a cordial kindness in the stranger's 
 tone, which again made Margaret survey him with 
 astonishment. He smiled as he caught her puzzled 
 look. 
 
 " Thank you. I believe I shall not require assist- 
 ance on arriving at Denbridge. I am going from 
 thence to Methwold Abbey," replied Margaret 
 promptly ; for, as her companion announced himself 
 a resident in the vicinity of Denbridge, a hope arose,
 
 94 
 
 that the dread and respect she was told the stately 
 Mrs Beaufort inspired in that neighbourhood, might 
 awe him into more reserve of manner. For some min- 
 utes it appeared as if her design was achieved ; for her 
 companion threw himself thoughtfully back, and again 
 indulged himself with a leisurely survey of her face. 
 
 " Have the goodness to write your name here, 
 young lady ! " at length exclaimed the unknown, with 
 a suddenness that made Margaret start ; putting into 
 her hand a set of exquisitely carved and jewelled 
 tablets. " You need not look so scared ! I have 
 seldom to request a young lady's autograph in vain," 
 resumed he, with a sarcastic smile. 
 
 More and more confounded, Margaret's dignity 
 succumbed — as that of many of her superiors both 
 in age and wisdom has done, and will do again — 
 before an audacious assurance alike impervious to 
 rebuke or discountenance ; and she very literally 
 did as she was desired. 
 
 " Margaret Desmond ! Humph ! An uncom- 
 monly pretty name, young lady ;" and so saying 
 her unknown friend relapsed into his former medi- 
 tative mood ; after carefully closing the tablets, and 
 putting them back again into his pocket. 
 
 A long silence ensued. At length Margaret,
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 95 
 
 whose thoughts perpetually dwelt on her dreaded 
 debit at Methwold, ventured to ask her companion 
 whether he knew Mrs Beaufort. 
 
 " Know her !" responded the unknown, rousing 
 with sudden vehemence. " Know her ! Agatha 
 Beaufort and myself are very intimate friends. I 
 live about four miles from the Abbey, consequently 
 we often meet." 
 
 " I have heard such varied reports of Mrs Beau- 
 fort's character, that I cannot at all picture to myself 
 the kind of personage she is," resumed Margaret 
 timidly, after a pause. 
 
 " Indeed ! Did you ever hear any good of her, 
 young lady ? However, as you appear to be in such 
 happy ignorance of Agatha Beaufort's disposition, 
 pray may I inquire in what capacity you are now 
 proceeding to Methwold Abbey?" asked the un- 
 known, peremptorily. 
 
 Margaret hesitated ; for she thought the ques- 
 tion a very impertinent one ; nevertheless, she pre- 
 sently replied frankly, — 
 
 "I am going to Methwold to be Mrs Beaufort's 
 companion; therefore it cannot surprise you that I 
 seek to obtain some insight into her character."
 
 96 
 
 Her new friend, however, did not seem to sym- 
 pathize much in her feelings on the subject ; for a 
 dark frown knit his brow, and a strange light glim- 
 mered in his small brilliant eyes, as with an irritable 
 ejaculation he dashed down the window-glass: for 
 the train was slackening its speed preparatory to 
 coming to a halt at an adjacent station. 
 
 " These frequent stoppages are detestable," ex- 
 claimed he angrily, putting his head out of the 
 window. " Do you see that black, lofty-looking 
 hidalgo yonder, young lady ? Well, he is one pre- 
 eminently favoured with Mrs Beaufort's counte- 
 nance. Look!" 
 
 Margaret obeyed ; and was greeted with the 
 not very uncommon spectacle of a gentleman of 
 tall commanding figure, who had evidently left 
 a carriage to pace up and down the platform until 
 the train was again ready to start. In a few 
 minutes the gentleman turned his head; then, 
 despite Margaret's self-possession, the colour deep- 
 ened on her cheek, and involuntarily she exclaimed, 
 
 "Mr Somerton!" 
 
 Presently Mr Somerton passed the carriage in 
 which she sat. He glanced into it, then slightly
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 97 
 
 raised his hat and bowed; but Margaret felt un- 
 certain whether his recognition was intended for 
 herself or her companion. She was, however, 
 speedily roused from her reverie thereupon, by the 
 unpleasant consciousness that the latter's eyes were 
 fixed upon her with a very chilling expression of 
 distrust. 
 
 u Pray, young lady, how is it that you are ac- 
 quainted with Mr Somerton, if your circumstances 
 are such as to oblige you to become Agatha Beau- 
 fort's companion?" demanded he at length, slowly. 
 
 Margaret again felt inclined to resent the inquiry ; 
 but still there had been throughout a kindly interest 
 in the old man's tone and manner, which, in spite of 
 his curiosity, and the repulsive bluntness of his mode 
 of asking her questions, irresistibly impelled her to re- 
 ply. Margaret during her short life had hitherto ex- 
 cited little interest in the feelings of others, yet so ear- 
 nest was her desire to be loved and appreciated, that 
 perhaps few girls were more liable than herself to be be- 
 trayed into the error of imagining any flattering notice 
 they may receive from comparative strangers to be real 
 and genuine sympathy ; while in reality it is too fre- 
 quently tendered for the gratification of a wayward 
 curiosity, or for lack of better or more exciting employ - 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 98 
 
 ment. In a very few words, then, Margaret explained, 
 with a degree of bashful confusion for which she after- 
 wards severely chid herself, that she knew Mr 
 Somerton merely by seeing him occasionally at 
 Woodthorpe, but that she had never exchanged a 
 word with him ; and erelong she had the satisfac- 
 tion of perceiving that her explanation chased the 
 frown from her strange friend's brow. There was 
 a question, however, which Margaret longed to ask, 
 and she now resolutely put it. 
 
 " Mr Somerton, I understand, is engaged to marry 
 a relation of Mrs Beaufort's. Of course you are well 
 acquainted with Miss Bemers?" Margaret paused. 
 " You will perhaps think me very inquisitive ; 
 but as Miss Berners is an inmate of the Abbey, 
 I wish you would describe her to me," added 
 she earnestly. 
 
 There was something unpleasantly satirical in the 
 laugh with which her companion replied, — 
 
 " Miss Berners, take my word for it, is not en- 
 gaged to marry Mr Somerton ; but only wishes she 
 may be. Mrs Beaufort, however, intends to ac- 
 complish it ; therefore mind what you are about, 
 young lady : not that there would be much chance 
 of your rivalling Alice Berners — a creature bright as
 
 OR FAMILY PKIDE. 99 
 
 a flash of lightning, wild and fitful as a Banshee 
 woman, all passion and sentiment, sunshine and 
 tears. Nevertheless, I would advise you not to try, 
 as you are doubtless aware that Leonard Somerton 
 is worth contending for ; and it strikes me that the 
 brilliant Alice would make a magnificent Roxana. In 
 short, Miss — Miss Desmond, or whatever your name 
 may be, don't be such a little fool as to attempt to 
 enact the role of Statira. Methwold Abbey, after 
 all, is a pleasant place enough. There are, to be 
 sure, a few pitfalls, which need not signify, you 
 know, if you have wit to steer clear of them. How- 
 ever, after you have been at Methwold six months 
 or so, should you happen to wish for the skill of a 
 sybil, ask me ; and it will be hard if we cannot then 
 read a riddle or two together, even though Agatha 
 Beaufort be its theme. But here we are at Den- 
 bridge," exclaimed Margaret's unknown friend, as 
 the train suddenly came to a stand-still. "I sup- 
 pose you will find an emissary from Mrs Beaufort 
 ready to receive you on the platform. Keep up 
 your spirits, young lady, and remember that some- 
 times might yields to right!" and with this enig- 
 matical speech the little gentleman politely handed
 
 100 
 
 his young companion from the carriage, and with a 
 profound bow bade her farewell. 
 
 For a few minutes Margaret stood confused and 
 bewildered by the noise and bustle around her. The 
 impression left by the tone and manner of her com- 
 panion's parting admonition, conveyed also a pang 
 of sadness to her heart. She was, however, speedily 
 aroused from her reverie, by the approach of a per- 
 sonage of very important exterior, dressed in black ; 
 who, after a few preliminary inquiries, introduced 
 herself as Mrs Beaufort's maid, Cartaret, and an- 
 nounced that a carriage was in waiting to convey 
 Miss Desmond to the Abbey. Whilst Cartaret 
 was delivering her message, Mr Somerton passed : 
 but whether he perceived her or not, Margaret could 
 not satisfactorily decide, as he exhibited no token of 
 recognition; nor did he acknowledge the profound 
 courtesy of Mrs Beaufort's confidential attendant. 
 
 "Who is that gentleman wearing the scarlet 
 cloak?" asked Margaret, when seated in the carriage 
 tete-a-tete with Cartaret, as they drove past the 
 portico in front of the station-house; on the steps 
 of which stood her unknown friend, directing in no 
 very gentle tones the labour of two men-servants,
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 101 
 
 and some half-dozen porters, in putting on his 
 carriage the formidable array of luggage strewed 
 about. 
 
 Cartaret bent a shrewd inquiring glance on Mar- 
 garet's face ; she then replied in rather scornful tones, 
 
 " That gentleman is Mr Carnegie of the Holt ; a 
 personage whose abrupt, dictatorial manner is highly 
 offensive to my mistress, Mrs Beaufort."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The inflexion of Cartaret's voice, as she replied to 
 Margaret's last question, was so firm and decided, 
 that it failed not to indicate to her, as perhaps it was 
 intended to do, that Mrs Beaufort's opinions were 
 regarded as decisive, and acted upon as oracles by 
 lier obsequious household. 
 
 The implied hint, combined with Cartaret's pre- 
 suming airs, and the manner in which she deliberately 
 surveyed Margaret from head to foot as soon as they 
 had passed from the noise and confusion of the rail- 
 way-station, were circumstances the reverse of encou- 
 raging to our heroine. Tired and weary as she was, 
 however, Margaret's spirit rose ; turning coolly aside, 
 she inquired after Mrs Beaufort's health, and then 
 reclined back in the corner of the carriage, de- 
 termined to make herself as comfortable as cir-
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 103 
 
 cumstances might permit. Cartaret responded in 
 the same dry tones, and for some time afterwards 
 neither spoke ; though Margaret more than once 
 detected the woman's eyes eagerly fixed upon her. 
 
 Wondering from what cause this curiosity arose, 
 Margaret in her turn leisurely surveyed her conduc- 
 tress. There was a reserved, sinister expression in 
 Cartaret' s face which struck Margaret as peculiarly 
 repulsive. Her features were harsh and hard, and 
 her low forehead and thick eyebrows imparted a 
 lowering, set expression to her features. Her eyes 
 were black, and restless in their glance. Her voice 
 was low ; and words glided from her lips unvaried 
 by the slightest alteration of tone. 
 
 Disregarding Margaret's evident disinclination to 
 converse, Cartaret presently began officiously to point 
 out and descant upon the various objects of interest on 
 their route ; but, silent and depressed, Margaret's at- 
 tention was not thoroughly roused until, after a drive 
 of almost an hour or more, the carriage stopped before 
 a lofty stone archway by the road-side. 
 
 A pair of tall iron gates then opened on one of the 
 principal approaches to the Abbey ; and Margaret, as 
 she was rapidly whirled through, gazed on the scene 
 she had so frequently heard her father describe.
 
 104 
 
 The beautiful undulating park was now clothed 
 in dazzling snow, — clear, bright, and crystalline 
 as the water-drops clustering in festoons on the 
 branches of the trees. The road after a time lay 
 through pine woods some mile or two in length, 
 looking gloomy and black as the afternoon shadows 
 stole over them : but now and then a break in the 
 dull foliage of the trees afforded Margaret a wider 
 survey over the snowy landscape. Woods and hills 
 were brilliant with dazzling crystals ; though at inter- 
 vals the eye was relieved from the excessive glare of 
 the snow by patches of brightest verdure, encircling 
 some giant oak, or crowning a distant height, upon 
 which groups of sheep were browsing. Woods, ap- 
 parently of vast extent and growth, bounded the 
 horizon, gradually rising in dark undulating lines 
 from the valley, in the centre of which the mansion 
 stood. A lake lay in front of the house, winding 
 capriciously through the valley amidst groves of oak 
 and beech trees ; which, in the summer season, dipped 
 their bright green foliage into the water. On the 
 summit of a hill sloping to the water's edge, boldly 
 prominent on a background of trees, stood the ruins 
 of the ancient nunnery of Methwold. 
 
 The mansion was a stately, imposing edifice of con-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 105 
 
 siderable extent, built of dark-grey stone. Its front 
 consisted of a lofty central tower with high embattled 
 parapet, having two other towers of nearly the same 
 dimensions at each extremity of the facade. The win- 
 dows were pointed, with richly decorated mouldings, 
 and the porch of the mansion projected sufficiently 
 to allow a carriage to draw up beneath it. It was 
 square, surmounted by pinnacles; its centre deco- 
 rated by the armorial insignia of the Beauforts, and 
 the whole ornamented with various fanciful devices. 
 Over the porch was a large mullioned window of 
 painted glass, blazoning the coats of arms, quarterings, 
 and heraldic badges of the Beauforts for centuries back. 
 The parapet of this window, which lighted the hall, 
 was of open stone- work of exquisite design, display- 
 ing the words " Deo data," the motto of the family. 
 Margaret, however, had now very brief leisure 
 to survey the outward magnificence of Methwold 
 Abbey, for the carnage suddenly stopped before a 
 small side-door. Cartaret instantly got out of the 
 carriage and helped Margaret to alight; then she 
 led the way through a lofty stone corridor into the 
 hall. An enormous wood-fire blazed in the grate, 
 beside which Cartaret requested Margaret to wait 
 whilst she announced her arrival to Mrs Beaufort.
 
 106 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 For a few minutes after Cartaret disappeared, 
 Margaret stood absorbed in reverie. She was now 
 under the roof beneath which her father's earliest 
 and most prosperous years had been spent ; and yet, 
 joyless and solitary she stood, feeling even more de- 
 solate and crushed at heart in this home of her 
 kindred, than if from strangers, alike both in blood 
 and sympathy, she had experienced so chill a recep- 
 tion. The thought then of her mother's wrongs and 
 humiliations flashed across her ; and deeply and fer- 
 vently did Margaret vow never to be betrayed in- 
 to the smallest concession, or a line of action unwor- 
 thy of that much-enduring, gentle parent, however 
 greatly her haughty relative might be propitiated 
 thereby. 
 
 No longer sustained by the excitement of com- 
 bating her father's fears and misgivings, Mar- 
 garet realized more thoroughly than she had ever 
 done before, the bitterness of the dependant posi- 
 tion she had accepted ; and an indignant flush suf- 
 fused her face as she marked how well and speedily 
 Mrs Beaufort took occasion to demonstrate to her 
 poor friendless cousin, how far she considered her- 
 self bound in kindness and courtesy by the cold hard 
 promise in her letter, " that Miss Desmond should
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 107 
 
 occupy in Mrs Beaufort's household the same rank 
 and position which her mother before her marriage 
 would there have been entitled to hold." 
 
 Half an horn* elapsed, and still Margaret remained 
 where Cartaret left her ; with no pleasanter companion 
 than her thoughts, cheered by no kindly word of 
 affection and welcome. She sat near the fire ; her 
 head bent low and her hands supporting her fore- 
 head, over which masses of shining ringlets drooped. 
 
 At length she raised her head and gazed round ; 
 for the silence of the lofty old hall, unbroken save by 
 the measured tick of the huge clock, was becoming 
 oppressive. The fire had burned low; yet despite 
 the gathering gloom, light enough remained to enable 
 Margaret to survey distinctly every object around. 
 
 Opposite to her arose the gorgeous painted window ; 
 and on either side of it, depended from the groined 
 roof, banners and trophies gloriously won by many a 
 hero of her race. Ancient armour grouped in fanci- 
 ful devices covered the walls. The floor was of 
 dark oak, contrasting its colour with the rich crimson 
 of the soft carpets traversing its polished surface. 
 At one end of the hall stood an organ. A gallery, 
 with a curiously carved parapet, displaying a variety 
 of grotesque figures, busts, and medallions, mingled
 
 108 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 with greyhounds (the badge of the Beauforts) hearing 
 shields, emblazoned with the family arms and cog- 
 nizance, partly surrounded the hall. A billiard- 
 table, an ancient cabinet, and a carved oak buffet, 
 on which stood two large porphyry vases filled with 
 flowers, also attracted Margaret's attention: but, 
 fatigued and weary, she presently turned away and 
 resumed her old position near the fire, wondering 
 when Mrs Beaufort would condescend to admit her 
 to her presence. 
 
 Margaret had scarcely relapsed into reverie when 
 a door opened hastily at the end of the hall, and 
 a step advanced towards her. She hurriedly rose 
 from her seat, expecting to confront no less a 
 personage than her formidable cousin, Mrs Beau- 
 fort. Great therefore was Margaret's relief to 
 find herself mistaken; though soon every feeling 
 merged in admiration and delight, as her gaze fell on 
 the graceful, bright young form before her. 
 
 Just within the doorway stood a young girl, her 
 slight figure thrown vividly prominent by the dark 
 rich hues of the oak panelling, and the crimson 
 draperies behind her, upon which the firelight shone. 
 She slowly advanced; then Margaret felt the full 
 eloquence of the pair of brilliant hazel eyes fixed
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 109 
 
 upon her with searching scrutiny; a gaze vary- 
 ing in its expression — one moment keen, flashing, 
 penetrating, the next, gentle and subdued. Long 
 silken eyelashes, black as jet, drooped coquettishly at 
 times over her cheek, which bloomed with the love- 
 liest, the freshest pink imaginable. Her nose was 
 small and delicately formed ; the proud curve of the 
 nostril, and the somewhat saucy arch of the short 
 upper lip, denoted, however, a resolute wilful- 
 ness of character which the general expression of 
 the fair face did not tend to disprove. Long 
 ringlets of dark brown hair clustered round a fore- 
 head, low, smooth, and bright with intelligence. 
 Her complexion was fair and clear, and her stature 
 above the common height. She was attired in 
 a thin white muslin evening dress, displaying the 
 symmetry of her beautiful shoulders and bust ; 
 and a chain of large coral beads encircled her 
 neck. Something of the admiration Margaret felt 
 must have been perceptible on her face, for pre- 
 sently a bright smile parted the rosy lips of the 
 fair young girl, and she advanced quickly and 
 extended her hand. 
 
 " I have only just heard of your arrival, and have 
 hastened down as quickly as possible to welcome
 
 110 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 you. My maid accidentally met Cartaret, and brought 
 me the news whilst I was dressing. But I am for- 
 getting that I must introduce myself: I am Alice 
 Bemers." 
 
 Involuntarily Margaret started. That fair radiant 
 face, so beautiful, yet so imperious in its expression, 
 seemed formed to subjugate at will, and to reign 
 despotically over the most insensible heart. A slight 
 blush rose to Miss Berners' cheek, as she encountered 
 the earnest gaze bent upon her ,* but presently she 
 was busily employed unclasping Margaret's heavy 
 travelling cloak. 
 
 "I fear, Miss Desmond, you must consider us 
 very inhospitable. I cannot imagine why Cartaret 
 did not show you at once to your room ; but when 
 you have been here a short time you will cease to 
 marvel, as I have long done, at any of her vagaries," 
 resumed Miss Bemers, after a brief pause. " I sup- 
 pose you have not yet seen Mrs Beaufort?" 
 
 " Cartaret left me here to apprize her mistress of 
 my arrival, and I am awaiting Mrs Beaufort's sum- 
 mons," replied Margaret. 
 
 " Mrs Beaufort seldom admits any one at this hour : 
 besides, this evening she is expecting a large party 
 of friends at dinner. It is now half-past five, there-
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. HI 
 
 fore I feel sure that she will not see you to-night. 
 Let me show you your room." 
 
 "You are veiy kind; but I fear Mrs Beaufort 
 might construe it into a want of respect were I to 
 retire before receiving her message. Do you not 
 think that I had better await here some intimation of 
 her wishes?" replied Margaret, reluctantly, with- 
 drawing her hand from that of her fair companion. 
 
 Miss Berners stopped. A slight frown contracted 
 her brow. 
 
 " Perhaps you are right. A breach of etiquette is 
 a deadly sin in Mrs Beaufort's sight. I would go 
 myself and remind her of your arrival, only, that 
 when once she has retired within her own apartments, 
 nobody but the privileged Cartaret is authorized to 
 disturb her," replied Alice, hastily throwing down 
 Margaret's cloak. " There is no reason however why 
 we should not make ourselves comfortable, whilst 
 Cartaret recounts her adventures at the Denbridge 
 station to her mistress. Let us draw the ottoman 
 closer to the fire ; and, as Mrs Beaufort told me 
 this morning that she expected us to be very good 
 friends, you shall begin and tell me all about your- 
 self, dear Miss Desmond ; and then I will relate my
 
 112 
 
 history!" exclaimed Alice, seating herself with pretty 
 negligence by Margaret on the ottoman. 
 
 Miss Berners' manner was so playful and 
 cordial, that Margaret felt irresistibly attracted 
 towards her. Perhaps also the warmth of Alice's 
 greeting contrasted gratefully with the inhospita- 
 lity of her welcome by Mrs Beaufort. Before many 
 words more were exchanged, however, the door 
 opened, and Cartaret advanced towards the two 
 young ladies. 
 
 Alice instantly rose. 
 
 "What is your message, Cartaret?" demanded 
 she, peremptorily. 
 
 "Mrs Beaufort desires her compliments to you, 
 Miss Desmond, and regrets that her engagements 
 will prevent her seeing you before ten o'clock to- 
 morrow morning ; at which time she expects that you 
 will hold yourself in readiness for an interview," said 
 Cartaret, delivering her message with the greatest 
 sang-froid, and addressing herself exclusively to 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Very well, Cartaret. I will show Miss Desmond 
 her rooms. You will have the goodness to give di- 
 rections that she is supplied there with every neces-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 113 
 
 sary comfort after her long journey. Her appetite, I 
 can assure you, Cartaret, will not be the less keen for 
 the extraordinary length of time that you have kept 
 her shivering in this huge hall !" replied Miss 
 Berners impetuously, signing to Margaret to follow 
 her. 
 
 u I have been in close attendance on Mrs Beaufort, 
 Miss Alice," replied Cartaret, rather deprecatingly. 
 " Miss Desmond sleeps in the east gallery you know," 
 added she, as she opened the door for the young 
 ladies to pass into the vestibule. 
 
 Miss Berners, however, took not the slightest 
 notice of Cartaret's remark ; but bounding up stairs, 
 followed by Margaret, she led the way first through 
 numerous lofty galleries, then along a multitude of 
 old-fashioned, curiously contrived passages, evidently 
 the by-ways of the mansion, until she stopped be- 
 fore a low arched door covered with tapestry. 
 
 u You see those heavy folding doors at the end of 
 the corridor? they lead into the famous Beaufort 
 portrait-gallery. I tell you, Miss Desmond, that 
 should you grow weary this evening for lack of a 
 companion, or prefer a stroll to going early to bed, 
 you may take your choice of an agreeable passe- 
 temps, and inspect a series of gems of art for which 
 VOL. I. H
 
 114 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Mrs Beaufort would not take California in ex- 
 change !" exclaimed Alice lightly, opening the door 
 before which she had paused. 
 
 Margaret then followed her along a narrower and 
 more gloomy corridor than any they had as yet tra- 
 versed. Its walls were hung with tapestry repre- 
 senting scriptural subjects. At the extreme end of 
 the passage, a long flight of steps descended, as Mar- 
 garet supposed, to some of the domestic offices; though 
 she did not inquire, as Alice suddenly threw back a 
 heavy door, the only one that opened on the corridor. 
 
 " This is your room, Miss Desmond. It seems 
 rather far away and secluded ; but I think you will 
 find it very comfortable," exclaimed Alice, passing 
 her arm through Margaret's." You have a lovely 
 view from the windows, and Mrs Beaufort's apart- 
 ments are near ; though her door opens on the grand 
 gallery." 
 
 Margaret threw a hasty glance round. The 
 room was a lofty singularly shaped apartment, 
 with hangings and curtains of crimson damask. A 
 capacious bay window, through which the faint- 
 est evening twilight now streamed, lighted the room. 
 The fire in the grate had grown dim, and diffused 
 a flickering glare over the room ; so that had either
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 115 
 
 Margaret or her companion been addicted to nervous 
 tremors, the silence and shadowy obscurity around, 
 might easily have beguiled imagination into all 
 manner of superstitious terrors. An almost im- 
 perceptible shudder, to say the truth, did pass over 
 Alice's graceful figure as she furtively glanced at 
 the sombre hangings, and round on the more dis- 
 tant parts of the room, every now and then fitfully 
 illumined. Near the fire a table was spread with 
 various refreshments — and within the fender stood a 
 coffee-pot on a small silver tripod. Alice soon stirred 
 the fire into a cheerful blaze 5 she then lighted the 
 candles, and making Margaret seat herself at the 
 table, poured out some coffee and placed it before her. 
 " I have not yet shown you the extent of your 
 territory, dear Margaret — for so you must suffer me 
 to call you. See ! you have a delightful studio here, 
 to which I shall frequently claim the privilege of 
 admittance," said Alice lightly, bounding across the 
 room, and drawing aside a tapestry curtain. " But 
 you must not explore its mysteries until after my 
 departure. We dine at half-past seven, and I dressed 
 early on purpose to talk with you. In the first place, 
 Margaret, pray tell me if you are a relation of Mrs 
 Beaufort's ? I never saw a more striking likeness
 
 116 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 than the one you bear to a certain Edith Beaufort, 
 whose portrait hangs in the gallery," exclaimed Miss 
 Berners, returning to the fireside. 
 
 The colour rose to Margaret's brow. 
 
 " Alice, I am interdicted by Mrs Beaufort from 
 recurring to or conversing with any one at Meth- 
 wold on the subject of my own personal history," at 
 length replied she, gravely. 
 
 " Mystery again ! Is your coming likewise, Mar- 
 garet, connected with the strange things which have 
 happened here of late?" exclaimed Miss Berners im- 
 petuously. 
 
 ,l There is nothing mysterious so far as I am con- 
 cerned ; except that, for reasons best known to her- 
 self, Mrs Beaufort desired me never to allude to my 
 family. How did she mention me, dear Alice, to 
 procure for me so kind a welcome from you?" 
 
 " Mrs Beaufort sent for me this morning, and told 
 me that you were coming to reside at Methwold, to 
 be her companion and secretary. She bade me make 
 you welcome, and show you any civility in my power. 
 When I ventured to ask a little more about you, Mrs 
 Beaufort turned aside, and dismissed me with her look 
 of most lofty displeasure. I have lived long enough 
 at Methwold, however, to detect that there exists a
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 117 
 
 hidden motive for your presence here," responded 
 Miss Berners with heightened colour. 
 
 Margaret mused a few minutes. 
 
 " How long have you resided at the Abbey, Alice?" 
 at length asked she. 
 
 " Nearly a year. My mother was niece to the late 
 Lady Blanche Beaufort. I was born and have lived 
 all my life in Canada, until about two years ago ; 
 when, on my dear father's death, I returned to Eng- 
 land, intending to reside with a widowed aunt in 
 Scotland. Mrs Beaufort, however, soon after she 
 learned my arrival in England, invited me to Meth- 
 wold; with the express understanding that, if I ac- 
 cepted her invitation at all, it should be for the space 
 of two years, during which period she undertook to 
 treat me as her daughter. She has been very kind 
 to me, and I am generally considered a great and pri- 
 vileged favourite here. I love Mrs Beaufort, and at 
 the same time fear her, Margaret — fear her with a 
 terror the stoutest hearted might feel at rambling in 
 the dark amidst frightful precipices, though assured 
 no terrible catastrophe will befall them !" 
 
 " I have always heard Mrs Beaufort described as 
 a stern, proud woman. But tell me, Alice, in what 
 respect does she differ from other people, to inspire
 
 118 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 the dread of which you speak?" asked Margaret 
 anxiously, rising and approaching Alice. 
 
 " You will speedily realize this awe, Margaret ; 
 but it is indescribable ! There is some mystery at- 
 tached to these Beauforts. There is a secret agency 
 always at work here, — a fatality attached to the for- 
 tunes of all who have lately dwelt at the Abbey! 
 Mrs Beaufort herself has succumbed to this mys- 
 terious influence. Its shadow threatens my path ; 
 and your turn, if you remain amongst us, will not 
 long tarry, Margaret!" and Alice raised her large 
 brilliant eyes, and drew nearer to her companion, 
 whilst a slight shudder shook her frame. 
 
 " Yet after all, Alice, Mrs Beaufort's reserve may 
 be but the gloom engendered by a haughty, discon- 
 tented disposition, unhappy in its isolation, yet dis- 
 daining to conciliate. You have made me positively 
 dread my promised interview with her to-morrow 
 morning ! " replied Margaret smiling ; for she did not 
 choose to betray the impression Miss Berners' em- 
 phatic words had made. 
 
 For a few minutes Alice remained silent. Mar- 
 garet anxiously watched the expression of her beau- 
 tiful face. 
 
 " Did you ever hear that the Beauforts, for many
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 119 
 
 generations, have always received timely intimation 
 of any impending calamity by a supernatural warn- 
 ing ?" said she at length, almost in a whisper. 
 
 "No, never. Well, Alice?" 
 
 " Well, Margaret, it is recorded that when a death 
 is about to happen in the family, or a serious evil im- 
 pends, upon six separate occasions — sometimes suc- 
 cessively, sometimes at long intervals — piercing 
 shrieks are heard at night resounding all over the 
 house, proceeding no one knows whence. There is 
 also a well-authenticated tradition, that nothing of 
 great moment has occurred to any of the Beauforts 
 without the previous apparition of an ancestress of 
 the family, who perished on the scaffold in the reign 
 of Charles II. for the murder of her husband. The 
 Lady Mabel's picture hangs in the gallery. Her 
 countenance is fair and heavenly, bearing as little the 
 impress of the dark passions for which she suffered, 
 as your face does, Margaret. I have not heard that 
 the phantom has as yet been seen by any one ; but, 
 Margaret, twice have we lately been horrified by 
 the sound of the Lady Mabel's piercing shrieks!" 
 exclaimed Alice shudderingly, glancing round the 
 room. 
 
 " This is dreadful, indeed, Alice, if it really be so,
 
 120 
 
 But are you sure that you are not allowing an excit- 
 able imagination to get the better of your reason? 
 What effect has the omen on Mrs Beaufort ?" asked 
 Margaret, following in spite of herself Alice's fearful 
 glance round the room. 
 
 " When we are better acquainted, Margaret, you 
 will acknowledge that my spirit is not one readily 
 daunted by imaginary terrors. I am no coward, and 
 what I will I seldom fail to accomplish I" exclaimed 
 Alice ; and her dark eyes flashed proudly. " Mrs Beau- 
 fort's deportment is that perfection of self-command — 
 that rigid control of every outward emotion — which fal- 
 ters not an iota in its subserviency to a mind despotic 
 and inflexible as ever actuated woman ! " continued 
 she, after the pause of an instant. " The omen, Mar- 
 garet, strikes with double awe, double reality, when 
 daily events also seem to portend the occurrence of 
 some strange thing. Mrs Beaufort secludes herself 
 much in her own apartments, which are remote, situ- 
 ated in this old part of the mansion, and rigidly closed 
 to every one. Then there is cold cautious-eyed Car- 
 taret, with her obsequious smile and cringing words, 
 and Mark Braddyll " 
 
 " Who is Mark Braddyll, Alice?" inquired Mar- 
 garet, as Miss Bemers suddenly paused, her attention
 
 OE FAMILY PRIDE. 121 
 
 for the moment being apparently absorbed in tracing 
 the outline of a star on the hearthrug with her fairy 
 little foot. 
 
 u Oh, Mr Braddyll is a friend of Mrs Beaufort's — 
 a gentleman, I believe, of Italian origin ; about whose 
 birth, parentage, and education, there is also some 
 slight mystery. Do not ask me anything more about 
 Mark Braddyll; you must see him and judge for 
 yourself, Margaret," responded Alice, hastily. 
 
 u You appear to abound in mysteries at Methwold 
 Abbey, Alice," replied Margaret with a smile. 
 " There is still another personage living in this 
 neighbourhood, who has already excited my wonder 
 as much as any of the strange things you have just 
 been telling me of. Who is Mr Carnegie?" 
 
 u An eccentric old nabob, who lives at a splendid 
 place about four miles distant, rich enough to paper 
 his rooms with bank notes if so he willed. Mr Car- 
 negie, in short, is a reputed millionaire ; too influen- 
 tial to slight, yet who, under the shelter of his golden 
 shield, presumes to say rude disagreeable things of 
 and to everybody, and consequently, is the object of 
 Mrs Beaufort's especial aversion. But what do you 
 know about Mr Carnegie, Margaret?" 
 
 a I travelled with him from Woodthorpe, and at
 
 122 
 
 first felt not a little alarm at the brusque oddity of 
 his language and manner." Margaret paused; then 
 she suddenly resumed in a deliberate tone- — " Yes, 
 Mr Carnegie's deportment was so very strange, that 
 I was quite relieved when at one of the stations I 
 saw him exchange bows with Mr Somerton." 
 
 In a moment Alice's eyes were fixed upon her with 
 intense earnestness. Margaret long remembered the 
 passionate brilliancy of that inquiring glance. She 
 thought of Mr Carnegie's admonition. 
 
 " You know Leonard Somerton, then?" said Alice, 
 at length. 
 
 " Mr Somerton's character is well known to me, 
 though I cannot say that we are personally ac- 
 quainted. It is reported at Woodthorpe that he is 
 engaged to you. Is this true, Alice?" asked Mar- 
 garet fearlessly, impelled by an irresistible impulse ; 
 though the words were no sooner uttered than she 
 would have given much to recall them. 
 
 Alice bit her lip. . 
 
 " We are not engaged. Humour has been as 
 usual premature. Yet, Margaret, I have but to 
 will to be mistress of Woodthorpe Park," replied 
 she at length, confidently ; then she added, after a 
 moment's pause, " Sir James, Lady Mary, and Mr
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 123 
 
 Somerton come here to-morrow to spend a few days. 
 Sir James once offered to lira Beaufort ; and though 
 she refused to become his wife, there still subsists 
 most friendly feeling between them. Sir James 
 Somerton, unworthy as I am, is extremely anxious 
 to have me for a daughter; so perhaps one day the 
 sun may shine on the propitious termination of Leo- 
 nard Somerton' s suit. He would make me, you 
 know, Margaret, rich and happy — so what more 
 can I desire?" and Alice swept back the clustering 
 ringlets from her brow, and again bent her gaze on 
 her companion. 
 
 Margaret made no reply ; and the two stood in 
 silent reverie, interrupted at length by a sudden 
 dull clash from below, succeeded by a prolonged re- 
 verberation. 
 
 " Oh, it is only the gong announcing to the house- 
 hold that Mrs Beaufort has descended to the drawing- 
 room to receive her guests," exclaimed Alice satiri- 
 cally, responding to Margaret's puzzled looks. " I 
 must now bid you farewell, as she always expects me 
 to be at my post in the drawing-room, as lady-in- 
 waiting about her august person — an office that in 
 future I design to make over to you, Margaret ! " and 
 taking up a candle, Alice approached a glass, and
 
 124 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 with the prettiest grace imaginable began to arrange 
 the snowy folds of her gown, discomposed by the 
 carelessness of her attitude during this conversation 
 with Margaret. 
 
 " Mrs Beaufort will think that our discourse has 
 been very exciting, Margaret," continued she, pointing 
 to the crimson flush on her cheek : " I hope her 
 curiosity will not be piqued into inquiring its subject ! 
 Good-bye. I shall come and fetch you to breakfast 
 in my apartment to-morrow morning. Remember 
 you will have the picture-gallery to yourself this 
 evening, if you feel inclined to stroll thither ! " and 
 so saying, Miss Berners disappeared. 
 
 Margaret sat for a minute or two, thinking on all 
 Alice had said ; but her meditations thereupon were 
 evidently not of a cheering description, for gradually 
 her soft cheek increased in brilliancy, and there was 
 a changeful tremulousness in her eye, which told of 
 strong inward emotion. She thought now with fond, 
 loving regret of her home : for never are blessings 
 so thoroughly prized, as when misfortune or folly 
 bereaves of all but memory of the past. Oppressed 
 by the loneliness of her position, Margaret at length 
 fairly yielded to the feeling of extreme sadness and 
 foreboding, which depressed her spirits; and tears
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 125 
 
 flowed down her cheeks with a vehemence and 
 bitterness she had never before experienced. 
 
 She was presently roused from so fruitless an indul- 
 gence of sorrow by a dull sound, as of something 
 heavy falling to the ground in the adjoining room ; 
 for the previous stillness in the apartment, broken 
 only by her own deep sobs, rendered Margaret 
 keenly susceptible of the slightest movement around. 
 In an instant then her conversation with Alice Berners 
 flashed upon her mind, and timid and unnerved she 
 glanced fearfully about. Resolved, however, to re- 
 sist such groundless fears, Margaret rose from her 
 seat, and dashing the tears from her eyes, took up 
 a candle, and resolutely approached the tapestry 
 curtain, which Alice had but half drawn across the 
 doorway of the inner room. Margaret threw an 
 anxious hasty glance round as she entered. 
 
 The apartment was small, and octagon shaped ; but 
 there was nothing within it that visibly accounted for 
 the noise which had alarmed her. Content to postpone 
 any farther examination of the room until the fol- 
 lowing morning, Margaret re-entered the bed-cham- 
 ber, and after carefully closing the tapestry screen, 
 approached the fire. She then took up a book and 
 tried to read ; for her spirits were yet too discom-
 
 126 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 posed to permit her to retire to rest. The book, 
 however, failing to dissipate her restlessness, was 
 speedily relinquished ; for her thoughts dwelt tena- 
 ciously on the mysterious occurrences Alice had 
 related, with an earnest emphasis of voice and lan- 
 guage that at any rate vouched for the sincerity of 
 her own belief in their truth. 
 
 Margaret was not generally prone to indulge in 
 superstitious fancies ; yet, excited by the solitude 
 and stillness around, and the sombre aspect of the 
 room, her nerves acquired a painful degree of acute- 
 ness : so much so that every crack of the wainscot, 
 or even the falling of a cinder from the grate, made 
 her heart palpitate. 
 
 Provoked and annoyed at her own cowardice, 
 Margaret at length took up the candle, resolved be- 
 fore she retired to rest to divert her thoughts by a 
 stroll through the picture gallery. She easily found 
 her way thither ; but the vastness and echo of the 
 corridors through which she passed, accustomed 
 as she had been to her cottage home at Wood- 
 thorpe, served little to dispel her fears. Her nervous 
 dread thus paramount, Margaret hesitated, uncertain 
 whether to proceed, or to make the best of her way 
 back again to her room, when the crimson baize
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 127 
 
 gallery doors closed behind her, and her eye wan- 
 dered over the distant expanse of gloom, deepened 
 by contrast with the glare of light spread imme- 
 diately round her by the candle in her hand. 
 
 Full length family portraits hung on the gallery 
 walls. Between each picture stood a marble statue, 
 or an ebony cabinet laden with rare and costly 
 bronzes, terra cotta vases, and specimens of curiously 
 inlaid work. The floor of the gallery was of dark 
 polished oak ; and a crimson carpet, over which the 
 foot fell with noiseless tread, traversed its length. 
 Determined to conquer her fears, Margaret steadily 
 advanced. Mr Desmond possessed a miniature of 
 his mother, copied from an original portrait in the 
 Methwold gallery ; this picture therefore Margaret re- 
 solved to seek before returning to her own apartment. 
 
 As she slowly moved onwards, every now and 
 then pausing to throw the light of the candle on 
 some picture which appeared to resemble the one 
 she sought, Margaret was struck by the singular 
 loveliness of the portrait of a lady, attired in a 
 rich court costume of the time of Charles II. 
 The form and attitude of the lady breathed soft 
 voluptuous refinement ; her beautiful hair, bound 
 together and wreathed into thick plaits, encircled
 
 128 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 her small graceful head with a coronet of glossy 
 auburn tresses. A bunch of blood-red carnations 
 mingled on one side with a cluster of ringlets, touch- 
 ing a neck stately, and white as snow. Her eyes 
 were bent to the ground, fixed on a couple of tiny 
 spaniels gambolling at her feet. Her dress was of 
 white satin ; her rich fall of guipure lace was fas- 
 tened at the bosom by a bouquet of carnations, simi- 
 lar to the group in her hair ; gems also sparkled 
 on her white arms and fingers, imparting brilliancy 
 and finish to her costume. 
 
 Eagerly Margaret looked to discover the name of 
 her graceful ancestress, and the date of the portrait. 
 The label, however, at its foot was a blank ; so re- 
 solving to indemnify herself on the morrow for her 
 present disappointment, by bringing Alice to the 
 spot, to explain the reason of this strange omission, 
 Margaret, with another lingering glance at the fair 
 lady, passed on. Soon she had nearly traversed 
 the gallery, without discovering the picture she was 
 searching for ; therefore, concluding that in the ve- 
 hemence of her wrath Mrs Beaufort had banished 
 the portrait of her erring kinswoman from the gal- 
 lery, Margaret prepared to retrace her steps. 
 
 At the end of the gallery another baize door corre-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 129 
 
 sponded to the one through which she had just 
 entered. 
 
 A leaf of the folding door was thrown back, and 
 half hidden behind it, Margaret, as she turned to 
 leave the gallery, discovered a picture previously 
 overlooked. In one of its corners, in small gold let- 
 ters, close to the frame, were inscribed the words, 
 " Edith Beaufort, 179-." Feelings of delight and 
 emotion arose in Margaret's mind as she gazed on 
 the delicate features of the portrait, so refined in 
 their expression, and thought of the passionate de- 
 votion with which her father cherished his mother's 
 memory : how he remembered and treasured every 
 accent of her faltering voice, when on her deathbed 
 she exhorted him to shun those faults which had 
 imbittered her own life ; and to quell by early habits 
 of discipline and self-denial that unrestrained im- 
 petuosity of disposition, the germs of which the 
 watchful mother's eye already detected in her son's 
 character. 
 
 Great was the contrast between Edith Des- 
 mond's thin colourless face and fragile figure, sim- 
 ply clad in white, without other relief or ornament 
 than that afforded to the dress by a narrow band 
 of clear blue velvet encircling her throat, and the 
 VOL. I. I
 
 130 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 dazzling combination of perfect form and colouring 
 which had charmed Margaret's eye in the portrait 
 of the unknown lady. 
 
 She still stood gazing earnestly on the picture, 
 when a light current of air caused the candle to 
 waver. Margaret raised her hand to screen the 
 light, and then turned away, with the intention 
 of retiring to her own room. Suddenly her steps 
 were arrested ; the blood rushed to her cheeks 
 and brow, then receded again, leaving her pale 
 and breathless. Within a few yards of her, in 
 front of the picture of the beautiful unknown, 
 stood a lady. Her large dark eyes glittered with 
 unnatural brilliancy as they were intently bent upon 
 Margaret, and a profusion of soft dishevelled curls 
 surrounded her face. The attitude of the lady was 
 firm and unwavering : not a fold of her long white 
 drapery stirred, nor the slightest perceptible respira- 
 tion agitated the light tresses flowing from under 
 her veil. 
 
 Overpowered with terror, Margaret's senses seemed 
 paralyzed. Alice's words recurred with vivid dis- 
 tinctness to her mind : the apparition boded evil. It 
 was that of the Lady Mabel, who had perished 
 for her crime on the scaffold. A cold shiver shook
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 131 
 
 Margaret's frame, as she marked its extraordinary 
 likeness to the portrait of the beautiful lady beside 
 which the shadowy form stood. After a few brief 
 seconds, the phantom glided swiftly down the gal- 
 lery : it paused again at the crimson door, bent an- 
 other glance upon her, and then vanished. 
 
 Margaret drew a deep breath, then hastily con- 
 tinued her way. Her own room, from the gloom of 
 which she had previously fled, she now earnestly 
 desired to regain as a safe haven ; and with rapid, 
 nervous step she proceeded onwards. All was dark 
 and tranquil around, and with beating heart she 
 soon found herself traversing the tapestried gallery 
 upon which her door opened. 
 
 Joyfully she quickened her step ; when, to her 
 dismay, again the apparition stood at the top of 
 the flight of stairs at the end of the corridor. The 
 lady's brilliant eyes were riveted upon her, as if that 
 full, mournful gaze had never been withdrawn. Pre- 
 sently she raised her transparent-looking hand and 
 beckoned. Terrified beyond measure, Margaret, 
 without hazarding another glance at the lady, re- 
 gained her own apartment, and hastily entering, 
 closed the door.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 For many minutes Margaret sat with her face buried 
 in her hands, pale and trembling ; in momentary 
 expectation, despite her better judgment, of seeing 
 the vision of the lady flit again before her. At 
 length she took courage, and glanced slowly and 
 wistfully round the large room. The candle, during 
 her abstraction, had guttered down nearly to the 
 socket ; the cheerful blazing fire also had exhausted 
 itself, and the mass of glowing embers in the grate 
 diffused a flickering ruddy light around. 
 
 Margaret snuffed the candle, hastily stirred the fire, 
 and then sank back again into her former attitude ; 
 feeling that degree of languor and excitement which 
 often bereaves of energy to seek the perfect repose 
 wearied nature so ardently desires. With her eyes 
 half-closed, though every now and then starting ner-
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 133 
 
 vously and gazing fearfully around, Margaret sat until 
 she was aroused by several low knocks at her room- 
 door. Too terrified at first to reply, she listened with 
 beating heart ; until, to her unspeakable relief, Mar- 
 garet recognised Cartaret's voice: she then arose and 
 admitted her. 
 
 Cartaret gazed somewhat curiously, perhaps sig- 
 nificantly, on Margaret's pallid face as she entered ; 
 and her eyes wandered round the room. Satisfied 
 apparently with her survey, she proceeded to re- 
 plenish the fire, and then offered to assist Miss Des- 
 mond to undress. Margaret, however, declining her 
 services, Cartaret took her leave ; hoping, in her usual 
 patronising manner, that Miss Desmond would pass 
 a comfortable night, and condescendingly promising 
 to call her at seven on the following morning. 
 
 It was then nearly one o'clock ; therefore, as soon 
 as her door was closed and securely locked, Margaret 
 reluctantly prepared to seek her bed. Cartaret's 
 visit had done her good, for it broke the spell of 
 acute watchfulness which before possessed her ; and, 
 worn out with fatigue, soon after she laid her head 
 upon her pillow, Margaret slept. 
 
 When she awoke the following morning, though 
 it was with a nervous start, soon even she acknow-
 
 134 A i ! ATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 ledged that there was now no further cause for dread, 
 as the large bay-window opposite to the bed was 
 dazzling with light, and sunbeams, clear and spark- 
 ling, penetrated into the curiously shaped niches and 
 recesses of the room, which on the previous night 
 looked so dismal and mysterious. In short, as she 
 looked round, Margaret felt positively ashamed of her 
 past fears ; yet even then an involuntary shudder crept 
 over her, whenever her thoughts reverted to the ap- 
 parition of the picture gallery. 
 
 After some little deliberation, Margaret resolved 
 not to impart to Alice what she had there wit- 
 nessed. That the daily events of the Abbey, and 
 the lives and characters of its inmates, were not 
 influenced by those ordinary causes which usually 
 produce a similarity of action and occupation 
 amongst certain classes of people moving in the 
 same rank of life, her own short experience of Meth- 
 wold undeniably demonstrated; even had she not 
 exchanged a syllable either with Alice Berners or 
 Mr Carnegie. Determined, nevertheless, to form no 
 hasty judgment, Margaret wisely refrained at present 
 from attempting to lay down any particular rules 
 for her conduct whilst under Mrs Beaufort's protec- 
 tion • and as she swiftly proceeded with her toilette,
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 135 
 
 many were her surmises and speculations on the 
 result of her forthcoming interview with that much 
 dreaded personage. 
 
 Margaret had just finished dressing, and stood 
 leaning in the embrasure of the window, awaiting 
 her summons to the breakfast -table, when Miss 
 Berners entered the room. 
 
 " Well, Margaret, punctual I protest, despite your 
 fatigue of yesterday ! I foresee that you will become 
 a prime favourite with Mrs Beaufort; who is as strict 
 a martinet as was Frederick of Prussia himself. But 
 that I thought it might be unseemly to disturb your 
 slumbers this morning, we — that is to say, my friend 
 Lilian Grant and myself — should have invited you 
 to join us in a snowy ramble round the shrubberies !" 
 exclaimed Alice merrily, approaching and gazing 
 with somewhat critical eye on Margaret's face, as the 
 sunlight fell and mingled its rays with the golden 
 hues of her hair. 
 
 " Thank you ; I am only this instant ready. Had 
 you a pleasant party yesterday evening, Alice? 1 ' 
 asked Margaret, blushing slightly at Alice's pro- 
 longed and earnest scrutiny. 
 
 " Oh yes ! And you, Margaret, did you betake
 
 136 
 
 yourself to bed after I left, or to a ramble through 
 the picture gallery?" 
 
 " I went to look at the pictures/ 7 replied Margaret. 
 
 "Well, you have now seen what the Beauforts 
 are like, Margaret. I can assure you, that the pre- 
 sent mistress of Methwold yields not in stately 
 haughtiness to the very grimmest of her ancestors ! 
 Come, let us go now to breakfast," said Miss Berners 
 laughingly, linking her arm through Margaret's, and 
 leading her from the room. 
 
 " There was one picture, Alice — the portrait of a 
 lady — which attracted me greatly : her hair was 
 looped with carnations. Can you tell me who she 
 is ?" asked Margaret, in a voice as unconcerned as 
 she could command. 
 
 " That was the picture I was talking to you about 
 last night, Margaret — the portrait of the lady Mabel," 
 whispered Alice. " There is an extraordinary fasci- 
 nation in that picture, and strange tales are told of 
 its effect upon strangers. But don't let us talk more 
 of these horrors, Margaret : they make me long to 
 leave all this splendour, and take refuge in my aunt's 
 poor little Scotch cottage again. I am going now to 
 introduce you to Miss Grant, a great friend of mine.
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 137 
 
 I have prepared her to like yon, Margaret, therefore 
 I trust I shall not ask your friendship for Lilian in 
 vain!" said Alice, pausing a moment before the door 
 of a room they had just reached; then, without 
 awaiting Margaret's reply, she entered. 
 
 It was a pretty, cheerful apartment, situated in the 
 best part of the mansion, and commanding a fine 
 view over the lake and the ruins of the nunnery. 
 Tables stood about, covered with all manner of pretty 
 things in porcelain and bijouterie ; evincing a pro- 
 pensity in the fair owner of the apartment to indulge 
 to excess in a passion for costly and useless trifles. 
 A bright fire burned in the grate, close to which 
 was the breakfast table, with its clear milk-white 
 china looking altogether fresh and tempting enough 
 to provoke the most austere devotee to break his 
 fast in Lent. Near the table stood Miss Grant. 
 Alice introduced her friend in her usual graceful 
 manner, and then busied herself in making the tea. 
 
 There was that in Lilian Grant's face which Mar- 
 garet (who piqued herself on her skill as a physio- 
 gnomist) could not satisfactorily decipher. Her 
 forehead was low ; and thick braids of jet black hair 
 all but touched her eyebrows, which were strongly 
 marked, and formed nearly a continuous arch
 
 138 
 
 across the nose. Shadowed by this lowering brow 
 were eyes of a deep grey hue, large, dreamy, and 
 cautious in their expression. Every now and then, 
 Margaret observed that they wandered round the 
 room with a peculiar stealthy, inquisitive glance, 
 and then drooped again j hidden for a time beneath 
 the thick curling lashes which almost swept Lilian's 
 pale cheek. She was of low stature ; her figure had 
 neither lightness nor grace, yet her fair complexion 
 and youthful embonpoint gave a softness to her whole 
 appearance. Miss Grant's attire was scrupulously 
 neat and well chosen ; for nothing could contrast 
 better with her complexion and dark hair than the 
 rich crimson hue of her plainly made merino dress, 
 relieved only by a small white collar and cuffs. 
 
 " Come, Margaret, take your place at the table, or 
 you will be summoned away to Mrs Beaufort before 
 we have breakfasted," exclaimed Alice, glancing at 
 a timepiece, and handing a cup of tea to each of the 
 young ladies, who promptly obeyed her summons. 
 
 " Does Mrs Beaufort always breakfast in her own 
 room, Alice?" asked Margaret. 
 
 " Generally so, — excepting of course when she has 
 company staying in the house : now, to-morrow 
 morning, Margaret, she will probably do the honours
 
 OR FAMILY PKIDE. 139 
 
 of the breakfast table to Sir James and Lady Mary 
 Sonierton. Aunt Marian, who is now staying here, 
 is in delicate health, and therefore prefers to spend 
 the morning alone in her own room. As for Mr 
 Braddyll, he breakfasts where he can; though I some- 
 times suspect, as he is never to be seen anywhere 
 about, that he also courts repose until luncheon 
 time," 
 
 " I saw Mr Braddyll walking early this morning 
 along the path bordering the lake : he appeared to 
 be going towards the village," said Miss Grant, in a 
 low, even voice. 
 
 " Your word is always ready to rescue Mark 
 Braddyll from any imputation, I know, Lilian," re- 
 joined Alice, laughingly. 
 
 Miss Grant blushed deeply; then hastily taking 
 up a flower from a plate near her, assiduously ex- 
 amined its delicate petals. 
 
 " Mr Braddyll's frequent visits to Denbridge are 
 to me not the least mysterious part of his conduct, 
 Lilian," resumed Alice, after a momentary pause. 
 " You tell me that he seldom goes to your uncle's 
 house, and yet he rides to Denbridge most days. 
 Do you think that some fair damsel, enamoured with
 
 140 
 
 his transcendent fascinations, is amusing herself with 
 acting a few scenes from the play of i The Belle's 
 Stratagem?'" 
 
 " I have never read the play you allude to, Alice , 
 and therefore cannot tell how far it is applicable to 
 Mr Braddyll," replied Miss Grant, carelessly. Mar- 
 garet thought there was a touch of petulance also 
 in her tone. In a moment or two a quiet smile stole 
 over Lilian's features, and she continued, — " You 
 know, Alice, the proverb says, 'they who live in 
 glass houses should never be the first to fling stones.' 
 It is therefore very rash to provoke retaliation, when 
 you know that Mr Somerton and Captain Stuart's 
 impending visit will probably place you completely 
 at our mercy." 
 
 It was now Alice's turn to blush ; she started 
 violently also. 
 
 " I never heard that Captain Stuart was expected 
 here, Lilian : you must certainly be mistaken." 
 
 " I met Captain Stuart in Denbridge yesterday, 
 Alice, and he told me that Mrs Beaufort had invited 
 him to spend several days at the Abbey," replied 
 Miss Grant, decisively. 
 
 Alice's cheek grew slightly pale, though gradually
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 141 
 
 the vivid colour stole back again • and her bright 
 eyes flashed : but whether with anger, or a contrary 
 emotion, Margaret was unable to decide. 
 
 " You reside, I believe, in the neighbourhood of 
 Woodthorpe Park, Miss Desmond, 1 ' said Lilian 
 Grant, addressing herself for the first time to Mar- 
 garet : " Do you know Mr Somerton ?" 
 
 " Only by reputation, and occasionally seeing him 
 at church," replied Margaret guardedly; for she was 
 conscious of a very disagreeable feeling of shyness 
 and restraint whenever Leonard Somerton' s name 
 was mentioned to her in Alice's presence : she 
 blushed slightly, however, for Miss Grant's dark 
 grey eyes were fixed full upon her. 
 
 " Woodthorpe Park is, I understand, but a small 
 portion of Mr Somerton's eventual inheritance. How 
 do you like the idea, Alice, of being one day mis- 
 tress of such boundless wealth ? How happy you 
 ought to be ! your every wish and passing whim 
 gratified." 
 
 " Yes, every whim, as you say, Lilian, gratified ; 
 except if I should unfortunately take it into my 
 head to desire to be passionately loved by the donor 
 of all this wealth," rejoined Alice, with a bitterness
 
 142 
 
 of tone which made Margaret's heart thrill : she 
 eagerly glanced towards Miss Berners. 
 
 Alice was sitting with her arm resting on the 
 table, her dark ringlets swept back over her shoul- 
 der, and her hand supporting her cheek ; her sleeve 
 had fallen back, and displayed her arm nearly to 
 the elbow. For the first time then, Margaret per- 
 ceived that a deep scar, the result apparently of 
 some terrible burn or scald, disfigured the back of 
 Alice's right hand, and extended half way down her 
 arm. As if to make the blemish still more con- 
 spicuous, Miss Berners wore on the finger most de- 
 formed by the accident, a ring of fine blue enamel, 
 studded with diamonds. On the blue ground was 
 a scroll pattern of smaller jewels, forming a motto, 
 as Margaret thought ; though from the distance at 
 which she sat she could not clearly distinguish. 
 The ring however was a very remarkable one, and 
 could not fail to attract both attention and curiosity. 
 
 Alice blushed deeply, and hastily withdrew her 
 hand when she perceived that Margaret's eyes were 
 fixed on the ring ; then she rose from the breakfast 
 table, and retreated to the window. In a few min- 
 utes Miss Grant joined her friend; but Alice, ap-
 
 OR FAMILY PKIDE. 14o 
 
 parently absorbed in reverie, took not the slightest 
 notice of her approach. Wondering what could so 
 greatly discompose Alice, Margaret, having now 
 finished her breakfast, took up a book and began 
 to read. She had scarcely commenced, when Car- 
 taret entered with a message from Mrs Beaufort, 
 desiring to speak with Miss Desmond immediately. 
 Alice turned and looked at Margaret as Cartaret 
 spoke. The cloud had vanished from her brow, and 
 the smile again beamed brightly as ever round her 
 mouth, imparting to her lovely face a soft voluptuous 
 beauty of expression. As for Margaret, feeling how 
 greatly the success of her experiment depended on 
 the effect she might produce on Mrs Beaufort during 
 this interview, her cheek involuntarily crimsoned 
 with agitation. 
 
 " Do not excite yourself, dearest Margaret. Be 
 calm, and above all take care Mrs Beaufort does 
 not perceive that you are afraid of her. By 
 summoning you to her private apartment she has 
 already distinguished you : I have never been ad- 
 mitted to this privilege," whispered Alice, kindly 
 taking Margaret's hand. " Mrs Beaufort is pre- 
 pared to receive you most kindly, I am certain ;
 
 144 
 
 judging from the few words she said to me about 
 you last night." 
 
 " My mistress desires to see Miss Desmond with- 
 out delay, as she has another important engagement 
 this morning," interposed Cartaret, who stood im- 
 patiently at the door. 
 
 Margaret then pressed Alice's hand, and imme- 
 diately left the room. 
 
 For some minutes Miss Berners stood silently by the 
 fire. Lilian Grant did not interrupt her reverie, but she 
 silently marked its progress. At length Alice rejoined 
 her at the window, against which she still loitered. 
 
 " What is your opinion of Margaret Desmond, 
 Lilian?" said she, with assumed nonchalance of 
 manner. 
 
 " She cannot boast of a tithe of your beauty, Alice, 
 yet there is something so fascinating about Margaret 
 Desmond, that I honestly confess I should be grie- 
 vously dismayed to find her my rival in any con- 
 quest I wished to achieve." 
 
 " I cannot divine Mrs Beaufort's motives for 
 bringing her to Methwold, and so specially enjoin- 
 ing me to show her every attention in my power. 
 I would give much to hear Margaret's history ; but
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 145 
 
 she told me that she had been forbidden to revert 
 to it during her residence here," continued Alice, 
 musingly. 
 
 Miss Grant did not immediately reply ; her eyes 
 were riveted on the floor. At last she said, 
 
 It is rather a strange fancy of Mrs Beaufort's to 
 engage a companion whilst you remain with her, 
 Alice; especially when Mr Braddyll undertakes the 
 management of her affairs. Do you think that Miss 
 Desmond is any distant connexion of hers ? She cer- 
 tainly bears a strong family likeness to the Beauforts, 
 and occasionally there is that in her voice and man- 
 ner which reminds me of Mrs Agatha herself." 
 
 " I do not remember ever hearing Mrs Beaufort men- 
 tion the name of Desmond, before she sent for me to 
 announce Margaret's arrival," replied Alice, gravely. 
 
 " Would it not be better and more prudent, 
 dear Alice, to try and ascertain this point?" re- 
 sumed Miss Grant, rising, and throwing her arm 
 round Alice's waist. " You know, dearest, that of 
 late you have been regarded as the heiress of Meth- 
 wold Abbey. Miss Desmond, in the discharge of 
 her duties, will have much opportunity for intimate 
 converse with Mrs Beaufort: in short, dear Alice, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 146 
 
 — pray forgive the indelicacy of the suggestion — 
 there seems to be so much mystery about this Miss 
 Desmond and her arrival, that, greatly as I admire 
 her, I strongly advise you to be on your guard," 
 and Lilian pressed her lips to Alice's forehead. 
 
 " Lilian ! it is neither wisely done, nor right in 
 you, to hazard such conjectures ; even supposing they 
 were grounded on the strongest evidence, as yours 
 assuredly are not. I do not believe that Mrs Beau- 
 fort would be guilty of such deception, after the hopes 
 she has given me of succeeding her here. A woman 
 of her indomitable resolution, had she seen fit to 
 change her intention, would have gloried in proclaim- 
 ing it. I am her nearest relative — indeed, as far as 
 I am aware, her only surviving one!" exclaimed 
 Vlice passionately. 
 
 < Alice, you know that Mrs Beaufort attaches one 
 condition to declaring you her heiress, and that is, 
 provided you many Leonard Somerton. You re- 
 member we have often talked of this together," said 
 Miss Grant in her low placid tones, while her eyes 
 fixed themselves earnestly on her friend's face. 
 
 " I do not deny that we have, Lilian : but what 
 has this to do with Margaret Desmond?" 
 
 r.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 147 
 
 " Nothing : I was not alluding to her then. She 
 cannot, you know, have any interest in Mr 
 Somerton." 
 
 " None whatever, I should imagine, Lilian ! Leo- 
 nard Somerton loves me, and will erelong ask me to 
 become his wife ! " rejoined Alice, while her cheek 
 flushed, and she turned her large brilliant eyes anxi- 
 ously on her companion's face. 
 
 Miss Grant, however, made no reply: for some 
 time neither spoke again. 
 
 " And Captain Stuart — he also loves you, Alice ! " 
 
 at length whispered Lilian, who had attentively 
 
 watched the changeful expression of her friend's face. 
 
 Miss Berners started as if an asp had stung her. 
 
 " Lilian! if you love me, never mention Cuthbert 
 
 Stuart's name in my hearing again !" exclaimed she 
 
 passionately. " Oh ! I would give half the rich 
 
 possession of Methwold, were it mine, to prevent his 
 
 visit here ! " Alice remained silent for a few minutes, 
 
 and her head sank on her folded arms. " Lilian ! I 
 
 cannot bear poverty, obscurity, and hardship! My 
 
 whole being shudders and recoils at that penury, which 
 
 entails utter extinction of all that is bright and beau- 
 
 tiful in life ! Oh, Lilian, that I had been born to
 
 148 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 honours and wealth ; or that, denied their possession, 
 I had never here tasted their delights!" and Alice 
 hid her face in her hands, and tears gushed fast and 
 swiftly down her cheeks. 
 
 " Why do you weep, dear Alice? You know how 
 greatly Leonard Somerton admires you, and that 
 soon he will place you in that position, independently 
 of Mrs Beaufort, which your beauty and talents en- 
 title you to expect!" said Lilian affectionately, tak- 
 ing Alice's hand and carrying it to her lips. 
 
 " Then why does he not offer to me, and terminate 
 this suspense, Lilian ? Why does Mr Somerton 
 leave me so long a time a victim to the taunting sur- 
 mises of Mr Carnegie and others ? He well knows 
 that our union would be hailed with cordial appro- 
 bation, both by Mrs Beaufort and Sir James Somer- 
 ton!" exclaimed Alice vehemently, sweeping her 
 hand across her brow. 
 
 " Perhaps Mr Somerton imagines that he has not 
 made progress enough in your regard, to embolden 
 him to venture upon such a step at present. Mr 
 Braddyll exchanged a few words with him yesterday 
 in Denbridge, and thought that he was anxiously 
 anticipating his visit to the abbey," replied Miss 
 Grant.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 149 
 
 Alice shook her beautiful head; a slight smile 
 curled her lip. 
 
 " I have often of late observed you and Mark 
 Braddyll in earnest conversation together, Lilian. 
 Does he ever hint why Mrs Beaufort secludes herself 
 so much ? Oh Lilian, have you also ever spoken to 
 him about those frightful cries ? I know that he is 
 in Mrs Beaufort's confidence." 
 
 " But I am not in Mr Braddyll's, dearest Alice," 
 replied Lilian, demurely. " Besides, whenever we 
 talk together, which we seldom do privately, he stu- 
 diously avoids allusion to the Abbey and its inmates." 
 
 " Well, Lilian, there is something in Mark Brad- 
 dyll's conduct and deportment towards Mrs Beaufort 
 that I am quite unable to comprehend. At times he 
 treats her with an insolent freedom of manner, that 
 in anybody else she would resent by immediate ex- 
 pulsion from her presence. Bemember also, Lilian, 
 that whatever you say to Mr Braddyll is invariably 
 repeated again to his patroness ; therefore, unless you 
 mean to get into a terrible scrape, and be summoned 
 before Mrs Beaufort's tribunal, you will be cautious." 
 Miss Bemers then quickly added, — " Let us go and 
 walk, Lilian : I cannot settle to any employment 
 this morning. Oh, if I knew what would befall me
 
 150 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 
 
 during the next two years, I think I could meet my 
 destiny, be it good or bad, more submissively. I 
 can realize now that feverish anxiety which sent 
 crowds to seek relief in Mademoiselle Lenormand's 
 mysterious predictions. Come, Lilian!"
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Margaket, meanwhile, followed Cartaret, who 
 swiftly led the way towards her mistress's apart- 
 ments. 
 
 Now that the crisis of her experiment was at hand, 
 and Margaret knew to a certainty that a few minutes 
 would usher her into Mrs Beaufort's presence, she 
 was astonished to find herself feeling so calm and 
 self-possessed. Anticipation of an evil invariably 
 magnifies its terrors : besides, Mrs Beaufort's formal, 
 unkind reception was little calculated to detract from 
 Margaret's dread of the interview. Strong now, 
 however, in conscious rectitude, her courage did not 
 once falter: perhaps, also, some secret prompting 
 admonished her to demean herself in Mrs Beaufort's 
 presence as became Mr Desmond's daughter, so 
 that no unworthy weakness on her part should
 
 152 
 
 still farther augment the triumph of their haughty 
 relative. 
 
 As Margaret passed the picture-gallery, the folding 
 doors, through which she had entered it the previous 
 evening, were thrown wide open. She stopped ; and 
 involuntarily her eye sought the portrait of the Lady 
 Mabel. The sun shone brightly upon it, and on all 
 around ; and the gallery, with its long vista of rich 
 colouring and sunlight, looked so tempting a walk, 
 that Margaret would have turned reluctantly away, 
 had she not remembered the apparition which had 
 there mysteriously glided before her. 
 
 A frown contracted Cartaret's brow, when, not hear- 
 ing Margaret's light footstep, she turned her head, 
 and perceived her standing still near the gallery door ; 
 she impatiently retraced her steps, murmuring some- 
 thing about her mistress's dislike and displeasure at 
 not being promptly obeyed. Margaret immediately 
 declared herself ready to proceed, and in a few mi- 
 nutes she found herself standing in a large ante-room, 
 situated at no great distance from the tapestried 
 doors, which opened on the gallery where she slept. 
 Here Cartaret begged her to wait, while she apprized 
 Mrs Beaufort of her presence. 
 
 Provoked, though amused, at these numerous de-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 153 
 
 lays and formalities, which might have ushered her 
 into the presence of a sovereign princess, Margaret sat 
 down, and resigned herself to endure another dreary 
 interval of suspense. In a very few minutes, however, 
 Cartaret re-appeared ; then requesting Miss Desmond 
 to enter the adjoining apartment, she quitted the room. 
 
 With palpitating heart Margaret obeyed, and found 
 herself in a bed-chamber of enormous dimensions — 
 lofty, isolated, and sombre, as was the general aspect 
 of the mansion. She cast a hasty glance round : 
 Mrs Beaufort was not there. Beyond, folding-doors 
 again opened into another room ; and in a few minutes 
 a jingle of keys, and a noise as of a chair suddenly 
 pushed aside, made Margaret's heart beat. Mrs 
 Beaufort, however, did not make her appearance, and 
 soon the stillness became painfully intense. 
 
 The sunlight poured full into the room, and had 
 nearly extinguished the fire, shining on all with a 
 warm lazy glow, that heightened the sense of motion- 
 less repose around. Margaret stood in the centre of 
 the room, scarcely daring to breathe or move, lest the 
 sound should break the mysterious spell; and she 
 started with a feeling of absolute terror, when the 
 silence was interrupted by the sharp crackling of the 
 log of wood on the fire, which suddenly shot up into
 
 154 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 vivid flames. At length she noiselessly crept to the 
 hearthrug, and seating herself in a chair drawn close 
 to the fire, looked with infinite curiosity round the 
 apartment, from which the inmates of the Abbey 
 were so strictly excluded. 
 
 At its upper end, near the door through which 
 Margaret entered, stood a stately bed, surmounted by 
 an umbrella-shaped oaken canopy, wreathed with 
 fruits and flowers exquisitely carved in relief, and 
 borne up by figures of knights in armour, likewise of 
 oak. Curtains of rich green velvet were looped in 
 festoons around, drooping at the corners of the bed 
 on a coverlet of crimson satin. On the wall oppo- 
 site to the foot of the bed, hung a full length por- 
 trait of the Lady Blanche Beaufort, attired in a 
 white satin dress, and peach-coloured mantle. The 
 artist had contrived to infuse so much life and spirit 
 into the figure, and the rippling, changeful shadows 
 on her rich satin dress were so faithfully rendered, 
 that the Lady Blanche seemed stepping from her 
 frame into the apartment, with an appearance of 
 greater ease and alacrity than she had ever displayed 
 during her lifetime. To the right of the picture, a 
 large window, forming with its deep recess almost 
 a tiny apartment of itself, admitted light into the
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 155 
 
 room ; but so intense, apparently, was Mrs Beau- 
 fort's longing for seclusion and privacy, that creep- 
 ing plants were trained to cling round the muliions 
 of the window, so that their leaves might form a 
 delicate and verdant screen, without throwing too 
 sombre a shade over the room. 
 
 Several Indian cabinets and old-fashioned coffers 
 stood about — one of which attracted Margaret's espe- 
 cial attention. It was, as she thought, a cabinet ; 
 though unusually large and ponderous. Formidable 
 rows of key holes, half hidden by a projecting cornice 
 of fine steel-work, formed, as it were, a frame to the 
 whole. Mirrors, in antique settings of Venice work- 
 manship, were inserted in the sides and the lower part 
 of the cabinet .; and altogether its appearance was so 
 ancient and singular, that Margaret wondered what 
 marvels of intricacy the interior would disclose. 
 
 Her attention was still riveted upon it, when again 
 a movement in the next room startled her. Margaret 
 felt the colour recede from her cheek ; for she heard 
 a footstep traverse the apartment, accompanied by a 
 loud rustling of silk. Instinctively she sprang from 
 her chair, and then curtseyed profoundly: as Mrs 
 Beaufort stood in the doorway of the inner room. 
 
 In a few minutes Mrs Beaufort slowly advanced,
 
 156 
 
 riveting a keen searching gaze on Margaret; then 
 all at once a change swept over her face : her brow 
 relaxed, and her brilliant eyes momentarily sought 
 the ground. Margaret stood near the chair from 
 which she had risen ; her breath coming quick and 
 fast, and her cheek flushed. Even thus early she 
 began to comprehend what her father meant, when 
 he warned her of that chill, unapproachable reserve 
 of manner, which in Mrs Beaufort effectually re- 
 pressed sympathy j and she felt a species of fear and 
 awe, at standing in the presence of one who possessed, 
 in such unenviable perfection, the terrible power of so 
 controlling every outward impulse, as to render even 
 her wildest access of passion subservient to her will. 
 
 " Margaret Desmond, you are welcome to Meth- 
 wold Abbey!" at length exclaimed Mrs Beaufort, 
 extending her hand. There was a staid cold com- 
 posure in the tone of her voice. " Do not be 
 frightened. Hold up your head and look at me ! 
 Has your father then given you so terrible an impres- 
 sion of my character, Margaret, that you cannot en- 
 counter my gaze without changing colour?" asked 
 Mrs Beaufort in the same tone, bending another pierc- 
 ing look upon her. 
 
 Margaret remained silent. She keenly felt the
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 157 
 
 slights heaped upon her parents, and, not to purchase 
 Mrs Beaufort's favour, would she utter a syllable 
 tending to diminish the latter' s conviction, that Mr 
 Desmond remembered her conduct, and appreciated 
 her accordingly. 
 
 " I see you scorn to propitiate at the cost of integ- 
 rity of conscience — and you do right ! Yet, beware : 
 for unbending impassability of character ruined your 
 father ! No, Margaret, he owes nothing to me ! 
 Your father, after being adopted and loved as a son 
 by the late Sir John Beaufort, stung his benefactor 
 with the grossest ingratitude. He met with the 
 prompt resentment such treachery demanded : yet, 
 unerringly indeed, must retribution have overtaken 
 him, and poverty and obscurity humbled his once 
 haughty spirit, when Francis Desmond consents to 
 accept for his daughter the position I have offered!" 
 exclaimed Mrs Beaufort, with scornful sarcasm. 
 
 " My father yielded to my own pressing entreaties, 
 Mrs Beaufort : his consent to my coming here was 
 reluctantly extorted. Believe me, I am not insen- 
 sible to your kindness in aiding us; when now, 
 but for your liberality, we must have been totally 
 ruined : but my residence under your roof will ter- 
 minate as unpropitiously as my poor father's did, if
 
 158 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 I commence it by wilfully suffering you to misap- 
 prehend his motives!" replied Margaret, hastily, 
 raising her eyes to Mrs Beaufort's face. 
 
 " What is there in my past history, or present cir- 
 cumstances, that could induce a young girl in the 
 bloom of youth to desire my society ; at a cost, like- 
 wise, requiring a humiliating sacrifice of amour-pro- 
 pre even to contemplate ? Is it because I am rich, 
 Margaret, and that for the sake of some probable 
 eventual advantage, you willingly submit to a life of 
 painful dependence ? If such are your motives, it will 
 be well merited retaliation for you to learn from my 
 lips, that I have long cherished Miss Bemers as my 
 adopted daughter!" said Mrs Beaufort, in tones cold 
 and unmoved, dropping Margaret's hand, which she 
 had taken. 
 
 " Some day, Mrs Beaufort, you will appreciate 
 me better. I will not even strive to vindicate my- 
 self from your humiliating insinuation. Having 
 accepted your proposals, whatever you choose to im- 
 pose upon me, I will faithfully perform, as long as I 
 remain under your roof," said Margaret sorrowfully ; 
 while tears, which she struggled in vain to repress, 
 gathered in her blue eyes. As she listened to Mrs 
 Beaufort's icy tones, a chill feeling of despair crept
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 159 
 
 over her, and she almost relinquished the hope of 
 ever winning to a gentler mood a personage so stern 
 and unbending. Already the sense of her lowly de- 
 pendence pressed with sickening loathing upon her ; 
 and "bitterly could Margaret have wept, in solitude and 
 silence, her disappointment and desolation of heart. 
 
 A look of incredulity passed over Mrs Beaufort's 
 face, and a smile curled her lip, as she turned aside and 
 leaned for some minutes, apparently in deep thought, 
 against the mantelpiece. Margaret looked at her 
 stately and beautiful figure, and mourned the secret 
 disquietude which banished content and happiness 
 from the home of one so richly endowed with worldly 
 blessings. 
 
 The most faultless model of Grecian sculp- 
 ture could scarcely surpass Mrs Beaufort's features 
 in symmetry and delicacy of outline ; but the bril- 
 liant colouring of her still lovely face had vanished, 
 and the white cheek and pallid care-worn brow 
 told of deep mental suffering. An expression of 
 suppressed pain and restless watchfulness lurked in 
 her dark lustrous eyes, once radiant in the proud 
 consciousness of that matchless beauty which bowed 
 adorers at her feet. Her magnificent hair, which, in 
 earlier days, almost swept the ground in its rare
 
 160 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 luxuriance, was now gathered under a small simple 
 cap of white lace ; and many a silver thread streaked 
 the smooth bands resting on her temples. Her gown 
 of rich "black watered silk, displayed the perfec- 
 tion of her queenly figure. She wore also a collar 
 and undersleeves of lace, and a thin gold chain en- 
 circled her neck. 
 
 At length Mrs Beaufort removed the hand which 
 shaded her brow, and, beckoning to Margaret to 
 follow, led the way into the adjoining room. 
 
 " Sit down, Miss Desmond ; I wish to converse 
 with you on your future duties, and arrange a plan 
 for your daily guidance. In the first place, you 
 thoroughly understand, I hope, the position that 
 you occupy in this house, as my reader and com- 
 panion : one whose services I may at any time com- 
 mand — whose time is always at my disposal?" 
 
 " It will be my duty to study your approbation in 
 all things," murmured Margaret in a low voice, per- 
 ceiving that Mrs Beaufort paused for an answer. 
 
 " I need a companion, Margaret ; and, having other 
 views for Alice Berners, I have chosen you. But, 
 mark, I do not offer you a home at Methwold because 
 your father claims kindred blood with the Beauforts. 
 That affinity between us, for reasons that I do not
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 161 
 
 consider myself called upon to explain, I have already 
 signified it to be my pleasure that you impart to none 
 whilst you remain under my roof. Should I here- 
 after discover that either through vanity or indiscre- 
 tion, you have disobeyed me in this respect, I shall 
 immediately withdraw my assistance and patronage 
 from you and your family. Do you understand me, 
 Margaret?" 
 
 Margaret slowly raised her head. The arbitrary 
 command, but, still more, the cold composure and 
 nonchalance of Mrs Beaufort's manner and language 
 while uttering it, made every pulse throb simul- 
 taneously. A slight almost imperceptible smile 
 parted Mrs Beaufort's lips as she marked the feverish 
 flush which covered Margaret's cheek. Again she 
 repeated her question. 
 
 u I understand, madam, that you forbid me to 
 avow my relationship to you. Believe me, your 
 last words have effectually allayed any anxiety I 
 might have felt to claim such a distinction. I shall 
 scrupulously attend to your wishes on the subject," 
 replied Margaret, with a prompt determination of 
 tone she felt too mortified to disguise. The next 
 moment, however, she repented her want of self- 
 
 YOL. I. L
 
 162 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 command, and timidly raised her eyes to witness the 
 effect of her speech on her formidable companion. 
 
 " I perceive, Miss Desmond, that you inherit your 
 father's unfortunate impetuosity of temper : I make 
 every allowance, however, for the mortification my 
 command must inflict," rejoined Mrs Beaufort calmly. 
 " As much of your time will necessarily be spent 
 with me in my apartments, you will soon learn to 
 understand me better ; and also to repress these child- 
 ish ebullitions of temper, which I regard with pe- 
 culiar displeasure. I shall require from you, moreover, 
 Margaret, implicit obedience, great assiduity, and 
 inviolable secrecy on all that passes in your presence 
 whilst with me. On these conditions I will undertake 
 to promise that you shall not repent having left your 
 home to reside here." 
 
 Mrs Beaufort paused, then raised to her lips 
 a glass of water standing beside her : a whiter 
 hue seemed spread over her features. Margaret 
 sat with her head bowed low, so that her glossy 
 ringlets nearly concealed her flushed cheek and 
 tearful eyes : her whole being recoiled from the 
 mental and bodily bondage evidently prepared for 
 her.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 163 
 
 " You have not yet informed me, madam, what 
 my daily duties are to be," said she at length, in low 
 hurried accents, suddenly looking up, and anxious to 
 bring the audience to a conclusion. 
 
 Mrs Beaufort now sat with her elbow on the table. 
 her hand supporting her cheek, and her eyes bent 
 strangely, and gloomily upon Margaret. She started 
 when addressed, and instantly averting her gaze, 
 took up a pen, and rapidly added a few lines to a 
 half-finished letter on the table before her. 
 
 " Can you play and sing, Miss Desmond ?" de- 
 manded Mrs Beaufort, throwing aside her pen. 
 Hastily rising, she opened a piano : her ringers wan- 
 dered for a few minutes over the keys, then she 
 signed to Margaret to seat herself at the instrument. 
 " Sing ! and let me hear what kind of a performer 
 you are. Sing, if you can, one of the full gushing 
 melodies of the south ! " and Mrs Beaufort stood im- 
 patiently awaiting the performance of her behest. 
 
 More and more astonished, Margaret rose : she felt 
 that her wisest and most politic course was implicit 
 obedience in the present stage of affairs, when, with- 
 out breach of conscience, she might tender it ; she 
 therefore sat down to the piano and began to sing, 
 though her voice was so tremulous that she could
 
 164 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 scarcely command it. Mrs Beaufort stood by, lis- 
 tening attentively ; and even while she sang, Mar- 
 garet could not help remarking the singular im- 
 mobility and perfect repose of her attitude. All 
 at once, a heavy lumbering sound, as of some 
 substance falling to the ground in the room above 
 that in which they were, so startled Margaret, as to 
 cause a momentary interruption in her song. The 
 colour rose immediately to Mrs Beaufort's cheek, and 
 her eyes glanced restlessly round the room. She 
 then pressed her hand heavily on Margaret's shoulder, 
 murmured the word " Enough !" and returned to her 
 seat. 
 
 Again there was a long and deep silence : Mrs 
 Beaufort continued writing ; at intervals laying down 
 her pen, and falling into reveries lasting several 
 minutes. 
 
 " You were asking me just now, Miss Desmond, 
 what your routine of daily occupation is to be," at 
 length observed Mrs Beaufort. " I shall expect your 
 attendance here every day from ten o'clock until 
 luncheon time. You will await my summons in the 
 boudoir — the last room of this suite, which opens on 
 the east gallery. After two o'clock, the remainder 
 of the day will be at your own disposal; excepting
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 165 
 
 that I shall wish for your presence for a short time 
 before I retire for the night. I have still another 
 employment to confide to you," added Mrs Beau- 
 fort, rising ; and taking a bunch of keys from her 
 writing-table drawer, she motioned to Margaret to 
 follow her, and then entered the bed-chamber again. 
 
 As somewhat of the trepidation Margaret first ex- 
 perienced had subsided, she followed her stately 
 relative with mingled curiosity and interest, lira 
 Beaufort walked up to the curious old cabinet, and. 
 applying a key to one of its massy locks, threw back 
 the doors ; she then touched a spring concealed in 
 the frame of one of the mirrors, which immediately 
 flew back, disclosing a deep recess filled with piles 
 of dusty discoloured papers : the accumulated letters 
 and memoranda, as they appeared to Margaret to be, 
 of the Beauforts for generations back. 
 
 " These papers, it will be one of your earliest 
 tasks to arrange," resumed Mrs Beaufort, in kindlier 
 tones than she had before vouchsafed. " They com- 
 prehend many important details connected with our 
 family history. You will carefully conceal the secret 
 of this door ; as the same spring opens several of the 
 drawers, which contain jewels of great value, beside?
 
 166 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 papers connected with the ultimate disposal of the 
 Methwold estates : these drawers I strictly forbid 
 you to open." Mrs Beaufort spoke slowly and em- 
 phatically, and again her dark piercing eyes were 
 riveted with earnest scrutiny on her fair companion's 
 face. " The greatness of the toil has hitherto deterred 
 me from undertaking the arrangement of these letters 
 myself ; but I place confidence in your fidelity, Mar- 
 garet, from my knowledge of your father's character. 
 Francis Desmond, save with a single lamentable 
 exception, never failed in the punctual performance 
 of any one of his outward duties." 
 
 A gleam of pleasure lighted Margaret's eye. 
 
 " Then you have faith in my dear father's integrity, 
 Mrs Beaufort ! Time surely must now have softened 
 the keenness of your resentment ; and oh ! consider, 
 I entreat you, whether, consistently with his character, 
 he could have acted in that one instance otherwise 
 than he did !" exclaimed she eagerly. 
 
 " Mrs Beaufort bit her lip : a look of displeasure 
 swept over her face ; and haughtily withdrawing her 
 hand, which Margaret had taken, she closed the 
 cabinet door and re-entered her sitting-room. 
 
 " I can readily comprehend the feeling which
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 167 
 
 prompts Mr Desmond's daughter to excuse his con- 
 duct ; but, hear me, Margaret ! I am not prepared 
 to argue the point, or to listen to his vindication from 
 your lips : henceforwards this subject is a totally 
 forbidden one between us," said she coldly, reseating 
 herself at the table. Mrs Beaufort then took several 
 bank-notes from the table drawer, and laid them be- 
 fore Margaret. 
 
 " Here is the first instalment of the annual stipend 
 I promised your father ; write immediately and 
 enclose it, Margaret. Francis Desmond lends you 
 to me in consideration of a certain modicum of 
 pounds, shillings, and pence : the faithful perform- 
 ance on my part of this compact is the only rela- 
 tion subsisting for the future between us." Mrs 
 Beaufort pointed to writing materials on the table, 
 and then composedly took up a book ; in another 
 minute, however, she abruptly put it aside, and 
 passing into the adjoining room, closed the door be- 
 hind her. 
 
 With trembling hand, Margaret prepared to per- 
 form Mrs Beaufort's bidding. Bewildered by all she 
 had seen and heard, she knew not what to write ; 
 aware how keenly every word would be weighed 
 and pondered over by the loved ones at home. All
 
 168 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 with whom she had as yet come in contact at 
 Methwold were people totally distinct in character, 
 manner, and passions from any she had ever asso- 
 ciated with. 
 
 Alice Berners, with her beauty and seductive 
 grace of manner, had been the first to greet her 
 after her arrival, and the only one who mani- 
 fested the slightest sympathy for her friendless 
 position, or who had cheered her by the smallest 
 word of encouragement ; yet there was something 
 in Alice's character and deportment, perfect as the 
 latter was, which Margaret in her own mind could 
 find no better simile for, than to liken it to the gor- 
 geous colouring of a tropical sky, ere the formidable 
 tornado arises to mar and sweep away every obstacle 
 offering even temporary resistance to its fury. Alice 
 had shown herself, nevertheless, generous and kind- 
 hearted, and Margaret's heart wanned towards her. 
 
 She thought, too, of her strange meeting with Mr 
 Carnegie, and the sarcasm of his manner when 
 speaking of the inmates of Methwold Abbey. Mrs 
 Beaufort's pale exquisite features then haunted her : 
 the same expression of lofty pride and self-will, 
 which Margaret remarked in the face of the Lady 
 Mabel, marred the beauty of her features ; and her
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 169 
 
 small well-cut lips closed with a tightness and regu- 
 larity imparting greater austerity to her countenance. 
 
 After thus indulging for a few minutes in reverie, 
 Margaret hurriedly snatched up her pen, thinking 
 that if Mrs Beaufort returned before her command 
 was obeyed, her displeasure at such want of diligence 
 would probably be very strongly expressed — and noth- 
 ing did poor Margaret dread so intensely as a cold word 
 and a lowering brow. Some half-hour elapsed : she 
 had folded and sealed her letter, but Mrs Beaufort 
 did not return. All again was silent around her, 
 except that the clock on the chimney-piece ticked on 
 in even, dreary monotony, and an occasional gust of 
 wind shook the window, and flapped against it the 
 pendent branches and long scarlet leaves of the Vir- 
 ginian creeper trained across. 
 
 Margaret sighed as she thought of the durance in 
 which she sat : she panted to be at liberty — to breathe 
 the fresh air — to absent herself for a period, however 
 brief, from the strange faces and stranger events of 
 the Abbey : a longing desire for change and move- 
 ment possessed her. If she might be permitted to 
 ramble out alone, and, away from all interruption, 
 analyze her new position, and school herself to submit 
 to its exigencies, she felt would be relief unspeakable.
 
 170 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Another half-hour dragged on its weary course, 
 and still Margaret sat at the table : she knew not 
 what to do, or what was expected of her — whether 
 to retire, or to remain at her post. She rose and 
 looked round; then a new difficulty presented itself: 
 she knew not how to make her exit from the room. 
 She felt that she should render herself liable to the 
 charge of impertinent intrusion, did she presume 
 without express permission to explore the terra in- 
 cognita of the adjacent rooms ; and breaking in upon 
 Mrs Beaufort's retirement in the bedchamber, by 
 which she had entered the apartments, was an 
 exploit too desperate to venture upon. 
 
 Despairingly Margaret sank back again in her 
 chair. Wearied and spent by a long morning 
 of excitement and inaction, she presently suffered 
 her head to droop on her folded arms, and tears of 
 mortification and wounded pride gushed plentifully 
 from her eyes. In this attitude she remained for 
 some twenty minutes, when three sharp ringing 
 knocks at the door communicating with the remain- 
 ing apartments of the suite, caused her to start and 
 snatch up her pocket handkerchief, to dash the tell- 
 tale tears from her eyes. After a brief pause, the door 
 was unceremoniously opened, and to her surprise, a
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 171 
 
 gentleman entered. He paused at the door ; asto- 
 nished, or pretending to be so, at seeing her seated 
 there ; then advancing to the table, he gazed curi- 
 ously on her flushed and tear-stained cheek. 
 
 Had Margaret been the veriest coquette in exist- 
 ence, she must have confessed, could she have then 
 surveyed herself, that never had her looks appeared 
 to greater advantage than at this moment. Her 
 tears imparted to her blue eyes a soft, subdued 
 expression, and her complexion looked still more 
 dazzling than was its wont, in contrast with the 
 heightened bloom of her cheek, over which her pale 
 auburn ringlets strayed, disordered by her previous 
 negligent attitude. 
 
 u I beg your pardon : I thought to have found 
 Mrs Beaufort here. Do you know whether she will 
 be long absent?" asked the stranger, profoundly 
 bowing to Margaret, with an ah* plainly evincing 
 his admiration ; then drawing a chair, he seated 
 himself opposite to her. 
 
 Margaret, who just then was in a mood to suspect 
 and dislike every individual or thing connected with 
 Methwold, could not, however, help being pleased 
 with the frank, gentleman-like manner of the per- 
 sonage who now addressed her.
 
 172 
 
 "Mrs Beaufort quitted this room an hour ago; 
 I do not know whether she will return here," replied 
 she, slightly blushing. 
 
 Margaret then resumed her pen again, embarrassed 
 beyond measure, and wondering when her unplea- 
 sant position would terminate; as the gentleman, 
 after acknowledging her last observation, quietly 
 took a newspaper, apparently intending to await 
 Mrs Beaufort's return. He now changed his seat 
 for one rather behind her; nevertheless, a kind of 
 undefined consciousness that his eyes were oftener 
 riveted upon herself than on the columns of the news- 
 paper in his hand, redoubled Margaret's confusion. 
 
 He was a tall, powerfully made man, broad 
 chested, and erect in his carriage ; his age aver- 
 aged apparently between thirty and thirty -five 
 years ; his features were regular, but unrefined and 
 unintellectual in their expression ; his complexion 
 was very florid, and served, when he smiled, to en- 
 hance the brilliancy of a set of white, even teeth ; 
 his eyes were black and gloomy-looking, though 
 quick and restless in their motion. He wore large 
 bushy whiskers ; his hair was black and curling, 
 and arranged with the greatest possible care, so as to 
 harmonize with the style of his face and figure.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 173 
 
 The next few minutes were to Margaret perhaps 
 the longest she had ever spent in her life. At 
 length the welcome sound of Mrs Beaufort's step 
 greeted her ears ; and after a short interval she made 
 her appearance, with an open letter in her hand, 
 looking, if possible, paler, and more worn than Mar- 
 garet had yet seen her. 
 
 " You are returned earlier to-day than usual from 
 Denbridge," said she coolly, as she swept majesti- 
 cally past her visiter to her chair. u Miss Desmond, 
 it gives me pleasure to present to you an old and 
 much valued friend of mine, Mr Braddyll," continued 
 Mrs Beaufort, turning towards Margaret. " Mr 
 Braddyll — Miss Desmond." 
 
 " I concluded that I had the honour of speaking 
 to Miss Desmond," said Mr Braddyll, returning Mar- 
 garet's slight inclination by an obeisance profound 
 and deferential. 
 
 u Have you seen Alice Berners and Miss Grant 
 this morning, Mr Braddyll?" asked Mrs Beaufort, 
 suddenly looking up from the open letter she held 
 before her. 
 
 " I have just met her and her friend in the park. 
 Undaunted by the severity of the weather, Miss 
 Berners is gone to the sheds to look at the deer."
 
 174 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Mr Braddyll paused, and then addressed Margaret,— 
 " When the spring arrives, Miss Desmond, you will 
 be enchanted with the magnificence of our woodland 
 scenery : the oak glades of Methwold Abbey are 
 renowned throughout England." 
 
 But the name of " Braddyll " had effectually re- 
 pressed Margaret's admiration of the personage own- 
 ing the deep sonorous voice with which she now heard 
 herself addressed : she remembered Alice's equi- 
 vocal mention of Mrs Beaufort's privileged favourite, 
 and therefore coldly bowed in acknowledgment of 
 his words. 
 
 u Can you give directions lucid enough to enable 
 a messenger to overtake Alice Berners, Mr Braddyll ? 
 I want to dictate to her a reply to this letter," 
 interposed Mrs Beaufort. " Stay ; do you under- 
 stand Italian, Miss Desmond? — if so, I may avail 
 myself of your services." 
 
 Margaret hesitated : she could read and translate 
 Italian perfectly well, but she scarcely felt competent 
 to write the language ; especially at Mrs Beaufort's 
 dictation. Mr Braddyll perceived her reluctance, and 
 good-naturedly came to her rescue. 
 
 " Tell me what you wish to say to your correspon- 
 dent, Mrs Beaufort, and I will relieve Miss Des-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 175 
 
 mond : she must be fatigued to-day, and scarcely 
 feel able to enter upon her duties," and Mr Braddyll 
 quietly drew a chair near to Margaret ; then without 
 further appeal to Mrs Beaufort, took up the letter 
 perused it, and commenced a reply. " Mrs Beau- 
 fort has many Italian correspondents, Miss Des- 
 mond ; and should you not feel quite equal to the 
 task of replying to their letters, it will give me 
 infinite pleasure to aid you in your study of the 
 language," said Mr Braddyll presently, in tones the 
 most courteous and insinuating. 
 
 Margaret looked distressed. 
 
 " Miss Desmond will feel extremely obliged to 
 you, Mr Braddyll," authoritatively interposed Mrs 
 Beaufort : " a perfect knowledge of the Italian lan- 
 guage is a qualification indispensable in her present 
 situation ; and your mother having been an Italian 
 by birth, she can have no better instructor. Now, 
 Margaret, you may retire : as you will perhaps 
 like to repose after your journey, I will excuse your 
 presence at the dinner-table this evening. You may 
 enter the drawing-room at eight o'clock, and when 
 the party disperses you will accompany me to my 
 room." 
 
 Margaret rose, hurriedly curtseyed, and gladly
 
 176 
 
 quitted Mrs Beaufort's presence, assiduously attend- 
 ed to the boudoir door by Mr Braddyll. 
 
 When this gentleman returned to his place in the 
 apartment where he left Mrs Beaufort, he roughly 
 pushed the writing materials from before him to the 
 other end of the table ; then wheeling round his chair, 
 he brought it exactly vis-a-vis to his companion. 
 
 Mrs Beaufort's magnificent eyes rested upon him 
 with a scornful, defiant gaze ; and a mocking smile 
 played round her mouth. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of Margaret Desmond? 
 Are you satisfied?" demanded she at length, in low, 
 measured tones. 
 
 " Satisfied ! — immeasurably ! She is the most 
 elegant, dainty little fairy imaginable, — ethereal 
 enough to have been fed all her life on nectar and 
 honeydew ! Even the peerless Alice must yield the 
 palm of grace ! " exclaimed Mr Braddyll, enthusiasti- 
 cally. 
 
 Mrs Beaufort's proud lip curled. 
 
 " She is a Beaufort ! " replied she, emphatically : 
 then she added, " the papers, Mark ! — where are the 
 papers?" 
 
 " Pray, why did you interdict Miss Desmond 
 Irom making her appearance at the dinner-table this
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 177 
 
 evening?" asked Mr Braddyll coolly, without heed- 
 ing Mrs Beaufort's query. 
 
 u For reasons which I do not conceive myself 
 bound to explain to Mr Braddyll," retorted Mrs 
 Beaufort, contemptuously. 
 
 "You are courteous, madam" — began Mr Brad- 
 dyll ; but Mrs Beaufort haughtily interrupted him. 
 
 " This is trifling ! Mark, give me those papers," 
 exclaimed she, angrily. 
 
 " Confound the papers! — By-the-by, I met old 
 Ralph Carnegie in Denbridge this morning. What 
 the deuce, madam, could tempt you to invite the 
 prosing old fool to dine here to-day?" 
 
 Mrs Beaufort's eyes flashed with fury enough to 
 annihilate the insolent offender before her ; who sat 
 lounging in his chair, nothing daunted by the indig- 
 nation his words provoked. Mrs Beaufort then arose ; 
 she made no reply, though the effort to restrain her- 
 self apparently cost her a severe inward struggle. 
 She bit her lip until the blood sprang ; then with an- 
 other glance, which made even Mr Braddyll shrink, 
 bold and undaunted as he was, she swept by him. 
 
 He spoke to her, but already Mrs Beaufort had dis- 
 appeared ; and the heavy oak door which divided the 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 178 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 
 
 sitting-room from her bed-chamber closed with a 
 crash that made everything in the apartment shake. 
 
 Mr Braddyll sat in deep rumination for some 
 twenty minutes longer, and then likewise made his 
 exit from the room.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 When Margaret returned to her room, she found 
 it looking very cheerful and pleasant. The apart- 
 ment had been carefully arranged ; and the tapestry 
 cm-tains which divided the bedroom from her tiny 
 study beyond, were looped back, so as to afford a 
 complete coup cFceil of the extent of her territory. 
 Blazing wood fires burned in both apartments, and 
 the sun shone so brightly round, and upon her, and 
 poured so ruddy a glow on the distant snow-clad 
 hills of the park, that Margaret insensibly felt her 
 spirits rise ; and she set about the task of unpacking 
 with more alacrity than she would have believed 
 possible, had any one before predicted what was to 
 pass in her interview with Mrs Beaufort. 
 
 Her study was a pretty, octagon room, hung with 
 crimson silk, and almost surrounded by book-
 
 180 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 shelves ; which, to Margaret's joy, were not quite 
 empty. A round table stood in the centre of the room, 
 on which was placed a blue china inkstand; and 
 about, lay a number of pretty, fanciful appendages of 
 a lady's writing table. Close to the window, a cres- 
 cent-shaped flower-stand was filled with double vio- 
 lets, hiding their deep purple blossoms amidst a forest 
 of leaves, and diffusing delicious fragrance around. 
 
 Margaret again felt almost inclined to laugh 
 aloud, when she thought of the beating heart, and 
 shuddering apprehension, with which she had 
 entered her snug little apartment the evening before ; 
 yet, despite the incredulity daylight brought, her 
 eyes carefully sought the probable cause of the 
 sudden noise that so startled her. After many 
 vain conjectures, which nothing apparently justified, 
 she turned away, and was soon busily engaged in 
 arranging her wardrobe. 
 
 After a time her activity began to flag : she wan- 
 dered back into the inner room; and, having first 
 stopped at the flower-stand to cull a violet or two, 
 approached the fire, and drawing an arm-chair close 
 to the fender, she sat down to enjoy a " dolce far 
 niente." For some time Margaret's eyes roved rest- 
 lessly round, while she planned in her own mind
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 181 
 
 the place she should assign in the room to various 
 trifling articles she had brought from home. Then 
 she gratefully thought of Alice's kindness in taking 
 such pains to adorn her room; for in many little 
 arrangements she detected a refinement, and an ap- 
 preciation of what would be most acceptable to the 
 fancy, betokening that other than a servant's taste 
 had been consulted. Alice's society and friendship 
 Margaret, therefore, fondly dwelt upon; hoping 
 therein to find compensation for the mortifications 
 she foresaw would overwhelm her, from the harsh- 
 ness of Mrs Beaufort's temper, and her imperious 
 love of rule. 
 
 From Alice, by a very natural connexion of ideas, 
 her thoughts centered on the companion of their 
 morning meal, Lilian Grant. Margaret felt almost 
 ashamed of the hasty impetuosity with which she 
 had secretly judged Alice's friend ; yet there was 
 something unaccountably repugnant to her in Miss 
 Grant's demeanour : there was an implied caution 
 she disliked excessively in the sidelong glance of 
 her grey eyes, and in the unvarying tones of her 
 voice ; and, severely as she took herself to task, 
 Margaret found it impossible to alter her opinion, 
 for one more charitable. Of all the future annoy-
 
 182 AGATHA BEAUFORT 
 
 ances, then, her residence at Methwold presented, 
 there was not one, in Margaret's eyes, so intoler- 
 able — excepting, perhaps, Mr Braddyll's officious 
 proposal of improving her Italian — as the prospect 
 of being brought into habits of daily familiarity 
 with a girl of Lilian Grant's disposition. 
 
 These, and a thousand other similar reflections, 
 passed swiftly through Margaret's mind; but soon she 
 dismissed them, and with her face buried in the 
 cushions of the chair, she sat and dreamed of that 
 other event this most important day of her life had 
 still in store — of her approaching interview with him 
 whom Alice regarded as her own affianced husband. 
 
 In what capacity would Mrs Beaufort intro- 
 duce her to Mr Somerton,* or would she consider 
 it necessary to use any ceremony at all with a 
 poor, dependent cousin, and humble companion, and 
 so leave it to chance, or perhaps to the friendly 
 offices of Alice Berners, to make them known to each 
 other ? Would Mr Somerton recognise her, or permit 
 her to acknowledge and thank him for the generous 
 assistance afforded to her father in his hour of need ? 
 
 The window of Margaret's sitting-room looked 
 out upon the gravelled court in front of the mansion ; 
 and as the winterly twilight closed in, the sound of
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 183 
 
 carriage wheels without, and the pealing of the hall- 
 door bell, announced the arrival of some of Mrs 
 Beaufort's expected guests. Margaret approached 
 the window ; but it was too dark and foggy to allow 
 her to distinguish aught, save the shadowy outline 
 of a carriage standing beneath the porch. 
 
 With something between a sigh and a smile, she 
 turned away, and rousing the fire into a blaze, busied 
 herself in finishing the task, begun some two hours 
 ago, of emptying her trunks. She had just com- 
 pleted this operation, and was standing listlessly be- 
 fore the fire, feeling very tired and hungry, and won- 
 dering what could have become of Alice, when Car- 
 taret made her appearance, to summon her to dinner. 
 
 Margaret followed her to the apartment where she 
 had breakfasted. On the table lay a note from 
 Alice, excusing her seeming inattention, and ex- 
 plaining that both she and Lilian had got nearly 
 wet through during their long ramble in the park ; 
 and that on her return home, about four o'clock, she 
 had quickly changed her dress, and was hurrying 
 to Margaret's room, when a message from Mrs 
 Beaufort summoned her to the library, to receive 
 Sir James and Lady Mary Somerton, who were 
 just arrived. Alice added, that she had just been
 
 184 
 
 informed by Mrs Beaufort, that Margaret would not 
 be present at dinner; and concluded by good- 
 naturedly advising her to be punctual in the draw- 
 ing-room by eight o'clock, if she wished to avoid 
 entering alone, before a party of strangers. 
 
 When Margaret returned to her own room — for her 
 solitary meal, with Cartaret as duenna, was quickly 
 despatched — she threw herself on a sofa, to snatch 
 an hour's repose, before the process of her toilette 
 commenced. At the proper hour, Alice's maid pre- 
 sented herself; sent by her mistress, with a kind 
 message, to assist Margaret to dress. Overjoyed to 
 be delivered from Cartaret' s grudging service, Mar- 
 garet gladly accepted ; and by some twenty minutes 
 to eight she stood before her glass ready attired. 
 
 A conscious blush mantled her cheek as she 
 surveyed herself; for Margaret had chosen to 
 make her debut in the most becoming and costly 
 dress she possessed — a blue silk, which had 
 been one of her mother's wedding gifts, and had 
 never since that event seen light ; until Margaret's 
 journey to Methwold was decided upon, when it 
 was converted into a very acceptable addition to 
 her wardrobe. Forgetful, therefore, of her past or 
 future trials, and happy in the bright illusions of
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 185 
 
 imagination, Margaret stood, arranging the long, 
 shining curls which clustered closely round her white 
 neck, arrayed more brilliantly than she had ever 
 been in her life before : a smile hovering on her 
 lips, and a warm, changeful lustre beaming from 
 her eyes. Well might Mr Desmond tremble at ex- 
 posing his fair and innocent child to the fatal at- 
 mosphere of Methwold Abbey. 
 
 Preceded by Miss Berners' maid, to show her the 
 way, Margaret descended to the saloon, precisely at 
 the hour she was bidden to do so by Mrs Beaufort. 
 Dazzled by the splendour of the room, blazing with 
 light, Margaret paused after the door closed, and 
 gazed admiringly round. Every way she turned 
 she saw her own graceful figure reflected in huge 
 mirrors ; the air of the apartment, likewise, was 
 buoyant with fragrant odours : in short, Margaret 
 fancied herself in fairy land. The bewildering ef- 
 fect of a scene so novel, made her at first unobser- 
 vant of the fact that, punctual as she was, Mrs 
 Beaufort and her guests had preceded her. 
 
 The ladies stood grouped negligently at the upper 
 end of the room, having apparently just quitted the 
 dining-room. Mrs Beaufort was standing before the 
 fire, talking with a pale, delicate-looking woman.
 
 186 
 
 Miss Grant sat near the table, conversing with a 
 lady, whose calm manner, benevolent countenance, 
 and quiet, rich attire, attracted the eye, and bespoke 
 a disposition infinitely loveable and inviting. In 
 truth, Mrs Cecil's character had been purified by 
 much tribulation; earthly vicissitudes had driven her 
 to seek consolation and relief where none ask in vain ; 
 so that her gentle, persuasive manners, and excellent 
 example, gave her considerable influence; for all, 
 even including her volatile niece, Alice, were anxious 
 to win Aunt Marion's sweet, approving smile. 
 
 As for Alice, dazzling as a queen, she stood, 
 the centre of a bevy of gaily clad ladies ; her beauti- 
 ful face dimpled with smiles, and her clear, joyous 
 laughter ringing merrily, as she addressed herself, 
 with graceful vivacity, first to one and then to an- 
 other personage of the group gathered round her. 
 She was dressed in pale pink satin ; a bouquet of 
 white camellias fastened her berthe, and a solitary 
 half-blown rosebud embedded itself amid her shining 
 hair. 
 
 Margaret, meanwhile, remained disregarded by 
 the gay throng; and a painful feeling of embar- 
 rassment, and perhaps one of bitter isolation also, 
 caused her heart to throb tumultuously. At length
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 187 
 
 Alice's eyes glanced towards the door ; she per- 
 ceived Margaret's perplexity, made a hasty move- 
 ment towards her, then looked hastily towards Mrs 
 Beaufort , and sank down on a sofa near. 
 
 Too well Alice understood the command implied 
 by that slight gesture and look, in reply to her 
 own, to venture upon disobedience : Mrs Beau- 
 fort's subordinates were too thoroughly trained ever 
 to mistake her intentions. Presently, however, Mrs 
 Beaufort advanced, and beckoned Margaret towards 
 her ; and when she spoke, there was a graciousness 
 in her tones, differing from the stern, dry stateliness 
 of her morning's conversation. She took Margaret's 
 hand, and led her up to the fair, delicate-looking 
 lady with whom she was talking. 
 
 " Lady Mary, let me present to you Miss Des- 
 mond ; a young lady for whom I have a great regard, 
 and who is at present residing with me. Margaret, 
 Lady Mary Somerton," said Mrs Beaufort. 
 
 A deep blush spread over Margaret's cheeks as she 
 touched the hand which Lady Mary immediately and 
 kindly extended. This pale-looking invalid was, 
 then, the mother to whom Leonard Somerton was so 
 devotedly attached.
 
 188 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 At a sign from Mrs Beaufort, Alice now advanced, 
 and drew Margaret aside. 
 
 " Aunt Marion has just been asking who you are, 
 Margaret, and she desires to be introduced to you," 
 whispered Alice; then she continued, "Now, Mrs 
 Beaufort has taken the initiative, I suppose she will 
 abandon you for the rest of the evening to my care. 
 How pretty you look, Margaret !" and her eyes wan- 
 dered thoughtfully over Margaret's dress and figure. 
 " Mr Carnegie is more odious than ever to-night ; 
 he has been boring me to death with pertinacious 
 queries about you, Margaret. I suppose he took a 
 fancy to you yesterday in the railway carriage ; so 
 I am glad that you will find one friend amongst the 
 gentlemen to converse with presently ! See, Aunt 
 Marion is looking towards us. Come ! " 
 
 Margaret gave one timid glance at Mrs Beaufort ; 
 but, perceiving that she was conversing again 
 with Lady Mary, followed Alice, who led her to 
 her aunt. Mrs Cecil kindly made room for Mar- 
 garet beside her ; but as she was naturally reserved, 
 and said little, and her young companion was too 
 new to the scene round her, and pre-occupied with 
 her thoughts, to prove very talkative, their conver-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 189 
 
 sation soon subsided. Margaret inwardly congratu- 
 lated herself on her fortunate position near Mrs 
 Cecil; where, ensconced in the corner of the sofa, 
 and half hidden by that lady's somewhat portly fi- 
 gure, she could observe all that was going on in the 
 room, without being conspicuous herself. 
 
 As soon as the tea was handed round, Margaret 
 remarked that Alice quitted the knot of young ladies 
 with whom she had been for some time keeping up 
 an animated dialogue, and took a chair close to 
 Lady Mary Somerton, and began talking to her with 
 the greatest empressement. Lilian Grant sat by her- 
 self at a table, turning over a book of engravings. 
 Margaret observed that though she did not converse 
 much, and held herself aloof from the party, she 
 listened with eager attention to every word spoken ; 
 her eyes also often glanced quickly and furtively 
 over the features and dress of different personages 
 in the room, when assured that their attention was 
 diverted elsewhere : though, whenever Miss Grant 
 happened to be addressed, she sedulously fixed her 
 eyes on the ground. 
 
 Wearied apparently with her long colloquy with 
 Lady Mary Somerton, when Alice approached, Mrs
 
 190 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Beaufort, without troubling herself to play the agree- 
 able to her other guests, threw herself on the couch 
 opposite the one Margaret and Mrs Cecil occupied ; 
 which was slightly apart from the company. There 
 was lassitude, and a melancholy expression in her dark 
 eyes, Margaret thought, as she several times raised 
 her handkerchief to her face, then restlessly glanced 
 round the room, and next at the hour. In another 
 minute, then, to Margaret's surprise, and it must be 
 honestly added, chagrin, also, Mrs Beaufort signed 
 to her to come and speak with her. She instantly 
 obeyed. 
 
 " You look very well this evening, Margaret ; 
 but I consider that you are too much dressed for 
 your position in my household," said Mrs Beaufort 
 coldly. " Aspiring to soar above the station in life 
 providence has placed you in, and assuming outward 
 distinctions to which you have no claim, may be the 
 source of much future misery to you. Bemember 
 your mother's history : had she heeded counsel, 
 Francis Desmond's only child might have been other 
 than she is." 
 
 " I am sorry my dress displeases you, madam. 
 Your rebuke is perhaps just : I have no longer
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 191 
 
 right to wear attire such as this. I will not 
 transgress again !" exclaimed Margaret, with a 
 dash of bitterness in her tone that she could not 
 repress. 
 
 " You will do well : a simple muslin dress is 
 most becoming to your position." Mrs Beaufort 
 paused : her white hand moved restlessly on her 
 velvet dress. " Look ! Margaret, do you think that 
 portrait a good likeness ? I mean the portrait hanging 
 at the end of the room." It was a full length pic- 
 ture of Mr Desmond, taken a year or two before his 
 marriage. " Few at the time that picture was taken 
 could rival your father, Margaret, in manly beauty," 
 continued Mrs Beaufort, quickly. " I suppose he is 
 very much altered now, whilst verifying the old adage, 
 c Marry in haste, and repent at leisure !' " added she, 
 bitterly. 
 
 Margaret struggled to command her feelings : to 
 betray them to Mrs Beaufort's unfeeling comments 
 she felt would be profanation. As she scarcely knew 
 how to frame an answer without giving offence, she 
 rejoiced when the drawing-room door opened, and 
 Mr Carnegie entered. 
 
 His attire was still varied by a plentiful display of 
 his favourite colour : his waistcoat was of scarlet and
 
 192 
 
 black brocade ; and, as if to indemnify himself for the 
 little scope an evening dress afforded for its farther 
 introduction, a huge scarlet camellia stuck in the but- 
 ton-hole of his coat. His light sandy-coloured hair 
 waved in the same graceless confusion as had before 
 excited Margaret's wonder ; now hanging like a deep 
 fringe over his brow, then pushed negligently back, 
 for convenience, or the better display of his quaint 
 features. 
 
 No one, however, presumed openly to find fault with, 
 or censure Mr Carnegie's appearance. The master of 
 the Holt, and the possessor of a fortune which he some- 
 times boastfully declared would buy up all the broad 
 acres of the county magnates, might almost have 
 worn a coal-scuttle on his head, with the delightful 
 certainty of hearing his whim applauded, if not 
 servilely imitated. All, therefore, but the haughty 
 mistress of Methwold Abbey, bowed before the little 
 gentleman, and his strange penchant for scarlet. 
 Nothing delighted Mr Carnegie more than to apply 
 the touchstone of his golden influence; and never 
 was he heard to laugh with such gleesome and mali- 
 cious mirth as when he found what people called 
 "their deeply rooted principles and prejudices" 
 vanish beneath its magical application.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 193 
 
 Mr Carnegie then advanced into the centre of the 
 room, and took a deliberate survey round. 
 
 " Oh ! there you are, Miss, — Miss what's your 
 name? I told you we should soon meet again. 
 Come, I am very glad to see you looking so bloom- 
 ing. I was told that you were sick and sorry after 
 your journey, and could not make your appearance 
 at the dinner-table. Nothing I perceive but a little 
 bit of feminine humbug!" exclaimed Mr Carnegie, 
 loud enough to be heard by every person present ; 
 and crossing to where she stood, he shook Margaret 
 heartily by the hand. 
 
 " You are acquainted with Mr Carnegie, I perceive, 
 Miss Desmond ?" said Mrs Beaufort inquiringly, in 
 her haughtiest tones. 
 
 " We travelled together yesterday, madam," hur- 
 riedly replied Margaret; for the same fierce look 
 which she had before remarked suddenly shot from 
 beneath Mr Carnegie's pale eyelashes. 
 
 " Yes ; Miss Desmond and myself were travelling 
 companions yesterday, Mrs Beaufort. Perhaps it 
 may remind you of the story of Beauty and the 
 Beast ; nevertheless, this young lady's conversation 
 whiled away pleasantly what otherwise would have 
 proved a very disagreeable journey. I always re- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 194 
 
 mark that those people who are so confoundedly 
 hoighty-toity and straight-laced have generally some 
 good reason for their reserve," rejoined Mr Carnegie 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Nobody could for a moment think of disproving 
 a dictum laid down by Mr Carnegie with such 
 admirable naivete" responded Mrs Beaufort sarcasti- 
 cally, in her coldest manner. 
 
 " I read this pithy axiom the other day in the 
 Work of some juggling priest, madam" — l If you 
 cannot disarm those who differ from you in opinion 
 by fair words, or by force, do it by raillery' — little 
 imagining to find this artful weapon wielded by 
 Mrs Beaufort !" responded Mr Carnegie promptly, 
 standing with his fingers thrust into his waistcoat 
 pocket — a favourite attitude of his. Presently he 
 exclaimed, after glancing several times from Mar- 
 garet to Mrs Beaufort, " God bless my soul, madam, 
 what an extraordinary likeness there is between you 
 and this young lady ! She has quite the Beaufort 
 cut of features : one could almost swear that you were 
 her near kinswoman. I say, Miss Desmond, — " Mr 
 Carnegie paused, and turned abruptly towards the door > 
 for he perceived Margaret's eyes were riveted in that 
 direction : in truth she had not heard his last remark,
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 195 
 
 Mr Somerton had just entered the room, accom- 
 panied by another gentleman, a stranger to Mar- 
 garet. There was that same quiet ease and re- 
 finement in Mr Somerton' s deportment — a kindly 
 dignity which never wounded, while it effectually 
 repressed familiarity or presumption — that always 
 fascinated Margaret. Then his rich modulated voice 
 fell on her ear (for Mr Somerton was talking when 
 he entered the room), which she thought must so 
 pleasantly convey to the ear of those fortunate 
 enough to converse with him, the workings of that 
 noble intellect impressed on his broad thoughtful 
 brow, and flashing in the glance of his dark eyes. 
 Involuntarily Margaret turned towards his mother ; 
 and she felt that she both sympathized with and 
 understood the feelings of deep tenderness and pride 
 which flushed Lady Mary's pale cheek. 
 
 Mr Somerton gazed earnestly and with some sur- 
 prise on Margaret, as he passed to his mother's chair. 
 Mr Carnegie's eyes followed him with a keen inquir- 
 ing expression ; and he turned to Margaret : for Mrs 
 Beaufort, on the entrance of the gentlemen, rose from 
 her seat on the sofa, and now occupied her former 
 place near the fire. 
 
 " I thought you told me yesterday that you knew
 
 196 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Mr Somerton ? In my days, in such case, it used to 
 be the fashion for young ladies and handsome young 
 gentlemen to speak, and not to stare at each other 
 like simpletons !" exclaimed Mr Carnegie, sitting 
 down by Margaret. 
 
 " No ; I told you, on the contrary, that Mr Somer- 
 ton had never been introduced to me," replied 
 Margaret laughing, and slightly blushing. 
 
 " Wait awhile, then ; I'll obviate that difficulty. 
 Well, Miss Desmond, you look fresh and fair this 
 evening as a Venus Anadyomene, and not at all like 
 Agatha Beaufort's head waiting- woman. How do 
 you like Methwold ?" 
 
 " Nay, Mr Carnegie, I have not had time to decide, 
 either favourably or otherwise, of my position at 
 present," answered Margaret. 
 
 " Humph ! Madam Beaufort relaxes her discipline 
 as yet, does she ? Trust me, however, young lady, 
 you will soon have had enough of it. What could 
 your father have been about to let you come here, I 
 wonder? Where does he reside ?" 
 
 u At Woodthorpe. He is the kindest, best, and 
 most loving father to me possible," replied Margaret 
 warmly. 
 
 u Indeed ! Well my dear, if he wants you back
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 197 
 
 again soon, he took a very effectual course in sending 
 you hither. Look at that abominable little coquette, 
 Alice Bemers," added Mr Carnegie, satirically. 
 
 Margaret's eyes had been for some time fixed upon 
 her. Alice was sitting by Mr Somerton ; her fine 
 eyes sparkling with animation, and her silvery voice 
 ringing buoyant and clear as she conversed, with a 
 pretty coy shyness of manner, every now and then 
 suffering her long black lashes to droop on her cheek. 
 Margaret, however, thought that there was too great 
 a nonchalance in Mr Somerton's attitude; and she 
 could by no means understand his eagerness, while 
 he was smiled upon by so fascinating a creature as 
 Alice, to make others partake in the privilege of her 
 conversation : it scarcely realized her notions of 
 lover-like devotion. Then he frequently addressed 
 or appealed to Lady Mary, or even to Mr Braddyll, 
 with whom the latter was conversing; when, according 
 to Margaret's ideas, Alice's opinion alone ought to 
 have sufficed him. Besides all this, Mr Somerton'^ 
 dark eyes roved away so frequently from his beauti- 
 ful companion, that, despite Margaret's willingness to 
 believe what she was told, she was forced secretly to 
 own that at any rate the conversation did not then
 
 198 
 
 possess such thrilling interest for him as it apparently 
 did to Alice. 
 
 " Who is that gentleman Mrs Beaufort is talking 
 with now ? I never saw a more interesting, sensible 
 countenance than his," asked Margaret, suddenly 
 turning to Mr Carnegie. 
 
 " That is Captain Stuart, — a man of superior in- 
 tellect and principle. I respect him ; and you will find 
 that, excepting Somerton, he is better worth knowing 
 than anybody you are likely to meet here : not, how- 
 ever, that you are liable to be overburdened with his 
 company, as he is poor as a church-mouse — too honour- 
 able to be a parasite — and too independent to toady 
 either Mrs Beaufort or Miss Alice. I did hear, how- 
 ever, that Captain Stuart was an old sweetheart of hers : 
 but no, no ; Miss Berners plays her cards better." 
 
 Margaret thought of Alice's agitation when Lilian 
 Grant mentioned Captain Stuart's name. She per- 
 ceived that the latter looked frequently towards Miss 
 Berners, and that Alice as sedulously averted her 
 eyes. Mr Somerton after a time rose and left her 
 side. Alice sat quietly for two or three minutes, 
 then she crossed the room, spoke to Miss Grant, and 
 took a chair near to where Captain Stuart was stand-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 199 
 
 ing. He turned and gazed silently, perhaps sorrow- 
 fully, upon her. A slight frown contracted Alice's 
 smooth brow, and she leaned moodily with her elbow 
 on the table, and turned over the leaves of a book. 
 
 u Well, Miss Margaret, these gimcracks and 
 bedizened dames are new sights to you, I suppose ?" 
 exclaimed Mr Carnegie suddenly ; for, during the 
 time Margaret's attention was absorbed by Alice, he 
 had amused himself with watching the play of her 
 features. " How should you like to be mistress of 
 such a place as Methwold '?" 
 
 u It must be a very pleasant thing, I think. But 
 I would not exchange conditions with Mrs Beaufort," 
 replied Margaret, lightly. 
 
 u You would be a blockhead if you did ! " was the 
 uncourteous retort which Margaret thought issued, 
 in reply, from Mr Carnegie's lips. Not over flattered 
 by the politeness of the rejoinder, she raised her blue 
 eyes in wondering astonishment to his face. At this 
 moment Mr Somerton passed the couch on which 
 they were sitting. He stopped and spoke to Mr 
 Carnegie, who rose, and walked away to a short dis- 
 tance with him. 
 
 Suddenly Mr Carnegie approached again. 
 
 " Mr Somerton wishes for the honour of an intro-
 
 200 
 
 duction to Miss Desmond/' exclaimed he abruptly, 
 in a tone which, despite the slight confusion Mar- 
 garet felt, irresistibly disposed her to laugh. " Hav- 
 ing said so much," continued he, " I don't know 
 what other forms etiquette requires to make you 
 known to each other ; therefore, as I am going now 
 to play the agreeable to Mrs Beaufort, you had better 
 sit down, Somerton, and say everything I have 
 omitted, and introduce yourself with proper cere- 
 mony !" and away Mr Carnegie walked. 
 
 Mr Somerton, evidently much amused, acted on 
 Mr Carnegie's suggestion ; and soon Margaret found 
 herself sitting deep in conversation with him, whose 
 reputed talents and kindness had so captivated her 
 girlish imagination. A thrill of happiness seemed 
 awakened in her heart, as she met the gaze of those 
 full persuasive eyes; and never before had she felt 
 herself talking with such enthusiasm and interest. 
 All the embarrassment that she had imagined she 
 should feel, in conversing with one so gifted, van- 
 ished as if by enchantment : for Mr Somerton pos- 
 sessed to perfection that exquisite art (which distin- 
 guishes the man of real learning and refinement from 
 the mere pedagogue) of veiling the glitter of his 
 attainments, by grace, and courtesy of demeanour;
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 201 
 
 so that, though none could be long in his society 
 without acknowledging the versatility of his talents, 
 yet their display never offended or wounded unne- 
 cessarily the self-complacency of another. She saw 
 that he talked also with an earnest interest in their 
 subject infinitely flattering. The feeling of sadness 
 and depression, which but a few minutes before 
 weighed so painfully, was dissipated; and she felt 
 raised again to the level of those around her. 
 
 With something of the animated smile beaming 
 on Mr Somerton's face, reflected on her own, Mar- 
 garet presently glanced round the room. Alice still 
 sat with her elbow on the table, her dark eyes bent 
 gloomily on Margaret and her companion ; and her 
 brows — such beautiful brows — contracted with a 
 sternness, giving an expression few could have ima- 
 gined her sunny face capable of assuming. One 
 hand, passing under her long flowing ringlets, sup- 
 ported her cheek, and partly concealed her face. 
 
 Suddenly she rose, and joined Lilian Grant and 
 Mr Braddyll at the piano : for Mrs Beaufort had just 
 signified her pleasure that some one should be asked 
 to play. Alice, though a tolerable performer, could 
 seldom be persuaded publicly to exercise her talent, 
 on account of the blemish disfiguring her right hand
 
 202 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 and wrist; now she flatly refused to strike a note. 
 Mrs Beaufort presently joined the trio at the piano : 
 after a short discussion Lilian Grant glided across 
 the room. 
 
 " Mrs Beaufort has sent me to inquire, Miss Des- 
 mond, whether you can play or sing? If you are 
 capable of doing either, she desires you will go im- 
 mediately to the piano ! " said Miss Grant, in her 
 quiet sedate tones. 
 
 An indignant flush crimsoned Margaret's brow; 
 and a haughty refusal to obey the command, so arro- 
 gantly put, rose to her lips. Mr Somerton did not 
 speak ; but his countenance testified his surprise. 
 Mrs Beaufort stood in the attitude of expectation near 
 the piano, evidently awaiting her obedience : for she 
 knew what her young cousin's musical talent was. 
 Margaret's spirit rebelled at the contemptuous tone 
 of her message ; but remembering that it was only 
 on condition of obeying Mrs Beaufort in all things, 
 save where conscience forbade, that she then mingled 
 in a scene otherwise closed to her, she at length rose, 
 and without deigning a reply to Lilian's rude speech, 
 approached the piano. 
 
 " Miss Desmond indulges herself in a laughable 
 notion of her own importance, considering that she is
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 203 
 
 only Mrs Beaufort's humble dame de compagnie J '" 
 observed Lilian insolently, addressing herself to Cap- 
 tain Stuart, but speaking very distinctly, so that her 
 words were not lost on Mr Somerton. 
 
 u Indeed ! Mrs Beaufort then is much to be en- 
 vied ! " replied Captain Stuart, quietly. 
 
 Meanwhile, Margaret seated herself at the piano. 
 Mr Braddyll assiduously turned over the leaves of 
 her music-book, every now and then applauding sotto 
 voce, with the air and decision of connoisseurship. 
 Margaret, however, felt indescribably wretched : the 
 illusion which so recently buoyed up her spirits was 
 cruelly dissipated. Mrs Beaufort's peremptory com- 
 mand had brought her down again to the level of her 
 true position ; that of a lowly dependant, bound to 
 obey another's will. Mr Somerton never once ap- 
 proached the piano ; neither did he pay her the com- 
 pliment of listening to her music. Even her friend 
 Mr Carnegie seemed to have forgotten her, and stood 
 on the hearth-rug with his hands in his pockets, talk- 
 ing to Mr Somerton. Mrs Beaufort conversed with 
 Sir James Somerton in low, earnest tones ; her pierc- 
 ing black eyes, every now and then, glancing towards 
 Alice. So Margaret, sick at heart, played on piece 
 after piece as Mr Braddyll directed ; her only auditor
 
 204 
 
 being Lilian Grant, who placed herself on a low otto- 
 man at the foot of the piano, and whose calm cautious 
 eyes she frequently encountered ; though she felt too 
 careless to ascertain whether their expression denoted 
 approval or disapproval of her performance. 
 
 Long after the music ceased, Alice stood apart in 
 the recess of a window at the farthest extremity of 
 the room, talking to Captain Stuart. As he spoke, 
 her head drooped lower over the fragrant flower-stand 
 against which she was standing. Her cheek was 
 deeply flushed ; and tears filled, and threw soft 
 dreaminess of expression, and feminine gentleness, 
 into her brilliant eyes. How different from the rest- 
 less vivacity, and craving for admiration perceptible 
 in her demeanour to Mr Somerton, was the maidenly 
 confusion with which her beautiful head now bowed 
 itself, beneath the unutterable love beaming from the 
 clear brown eyes bent so earnestly upon her ! 
 
 Then the highest, the most noble, and generous 
 promptings of Alice's heart were roused : then she was 
 yielding to the kindly influence of her better nature ! 
 
 " Alice, Mrs Beaufort has asked me to prolong my 
 stay over the next two days. I have consented, only 
 in the hope of obtaining a long interview with you. 
 When and where may I see you?"
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDF. 205 
 
 Alice slightly shuddered. She took a short fur- 
 tive glance round the room. Tears trembled on her 
 long eyelashes. 
 
 " I will see you, Cuthbert, if " she paused, 
 
 and then added hastily, " I shall walk alone to the 
 boat-house to-morrow, at two o'clock." 
 
 Captain Stuart gazed for a moment into the clear 
 eyes raised timidly upon him ; a joyful smile beamed 
 on his lips. 
 
 u My own Alice !" whispered he, triumphantly, as 
 she gently withdrew her hand, and hastened from his 
 side.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 By the time the clock struck twelve, all Mrs Beau- 
 fort's guests had departed. Attended by Margaret, 
 the latter retired when Lady Mary Somerton took 
 her leave for the night ; deputing Mrs Cecil to per- 
 form in her stead the task of hostess, till the last 
 carriage rolled away with those heedless visiters, who, 
 unmindful of her often administered rebukes, ven- 
 tured to outstay the magic stroke of eleven. By 
 midnight, however, the stately portal of Methwold 
 Abbey closed behind the last of Mrs Beaufort's dinner 
 guests, and the friends domiciled under her roof had 
 all retired to their respective apartments. 
 
 In the drawing-room the wax lights of two of 
 the chandeliers had been extinguished : the third, 
 that at the upper end of the room, however, was 
 merely lowered, and its candles still burned bril-
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 207 
 
 liantly. At the piano Lilian Grant and Mr Braddyll 
 yet lingered. Miss Grant was collecting the music 
 scattered over the instrument, and arranging it in a 
 portfolio lying open before her : yet, strange to 
 say, although Lilian seemed intent upon her occupa- 
 tion, the surface of the piano presented the same dis- 
 orderly appearance as when Mrs Beaufort's friends 
 departed. The firelight, as she stood, gleamed fitfully 
 upon her white dress, and a feverish spot burned 
 on her cheek. Mr Braddyll leaned with folded arms 
 on the piano near her. Occasionally a furtive glance 
 stole from beneath Lilian's heavy eyelids round the 
 room, and then centred on her companion's face. 
 Excepting this brief stealthy survey, and the unusual 
 colour mantling her cheek, Miss Grant's manner was 
 quiet and composed as ordinary. 
 
 " Lilian ! I feel persuaded that Margaret Desmond 
 and Leonard Somerton have met before. Their 
 intimacy must be checked ; or, I foresee, that the 
 most disastrous results to our interest will ensue. 
 Do you hear me, Lilian ? You must crush this friend- 
 ship in the germ !" said Mr Braddyll slowly, in low 
 suppressed tones. 
 
 " Why should I trouble myself to cross the loves 
 of Miss Margaret Desmond and Mr Somerton V
 
 208 
 
 What are they to me ?" replied Miss Grant, in a voice 
 of sullen angry composure. 
 
 " Lilian ! what possesses you to-night "? Have you 
 renounced my interest?" 
 
 "Your interest!" repeated Miss Grant, and a low 
 laugh burst from her lips. 
 
 " My interest, — ours, Lilian ; do you not know 
 how fondly I love you?" and Mr Braddyll laid his 
 burning hand on Lilian's ; which was cold as marble. 
 
 " Oh, it is so long since you told me so, that I 
 begin to doubt — yes, to doubt its reality. Oh, 
 Mark ! could I believe implicitly in your truth, I 
 would peril body and soul in your cause !" exclaimed 
 she passionately, turning towards him. 
 
 " Suspicion engenders suspicion, dearest : have I 
 not reason also to doubt the faith of her who judges 
 me so falsely ?" replied Mr Braddyll, reproachfully. 
 " But if you would hereafter reign mistress of Meth- 
 wold Abbey, my Lilian, I tell you solemnly that 
 every energy you possess must be put forth to pre- 
 vent further intimacy between Mr Somerton and 
 Margaret Desmond," added he, emphatically. 
 
 Lilian Grant remembered Margaret's distinct dis- 
 avowal of any previous acquaintance with Mr Somer- 
 ton ; but she was too much of a woman, and, also.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 209 
 
 too crafty a one, to relieve the anxiety of her lover 
 by a statement of this fact. 
 
 " How can that pale-faced chit of a girl frustrate 
 our projects ? Mrs Beaufort is not likely to make a 
 will in favour of her paid companion," responded she 
 at length. Mark, tell me what you apprehend, unre- 
 servedly ; or I will lend no aid to your designs !" 
 added Lilian, quickly and doggedly. 
 
 " You are aware, Lilian, that Mrs Beaufort intends 
 to make Leonard Somerton her heir, provided he 
 marries Alice Berners. Let Mr Somerton become 
 Alice's husband, then I possess sure means to pre- 
 vent him from ever touching an acre of the Meth- 
 wold estates. But, Lilian, with Margaret Desmond 
 it is a different affair : she is a Beaufort ; and, more- 
 over, at her father's death, the sole representative of 
 the family. Should Margaret, therefore, wed Leonard 
 Somerton, what with Mrs Beaufort's prepossession in 
 his favour, her own winning manners, and Mr Somer- 
 ton' s great family influence, our schemes for the future 
 will be defeated : every precaution, therefore, must 
 be taken to prevent this result. Do you understand, 
 Lilian ? I have a hold you little suspect on Agatha 
 Beaufort." 
 
 "I see ! Then Margaret Desmond is Mrs Beau- 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 210 
 
 fort's rightful heiress. I divined as much!" said 
 Lilian, keenly scanning Mr Braddyll's countenance, 
 while a slight frown gathered on her brow. 
 
 " Precisely ! As soon as Alice is safely disposed 
 of to Mr Somerton, means must skilfully be devised to 
 drive this girl, Margaret, back to her obscurity: from 
 which, with my consent, she never should have issued. 
 Then we are safe." 
 
 Lilian gloomily smiled. A dark rankling hate of 
 Margaret had sprung up in her bosom during that 
 eventful evening, as she watched her, and her unwel- 
 come, though obsequious companion, at the piano* 
 forte. Mr Braddyll marked the workings of her 
 countenance. 
 
 " Pray, how am I to achieve all this ?" demanded 
 she at length, resolutely, in a low suppressed tone. 
 
 " By stirring up the passions of fair Alice Berners. 
 Rouse those demons of pride, ambition, and covetous- 
 n 'ss in her bosom. Do this, Lilian, discreetly and 
 effectually j and we conquer — Methwold becomes our 
 own." 
 
 Again Lilian smiled. Mr Braddyll threw, his arm 
 round her waist. 
 
 " You love me, Mark? You swear that you love 
 me ?" asked she passionately, whilst for once Lilian'*
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 211 
 
 eyes were raised with wildness and intensity of 
 doubt to his. 
 
 " Lilian ! nay own Lilian ! why these unjust 
 doubts ? Will you never trust me ? Dearest, why 
 have I deserved this ?" exclaimed Mr Braddyll, vehe- 
 mently. 
 
 Lilian Grant raised her head ; with a powerful 
 effort she subdued her agitation: dark, resolute 'de- 
 termination settled on her features. 
 
 " I believe you, Mark, — because my only hope in 
 life rests on this trust ! I will do your bidding to 
 the best of my ability : yet, beware ! the devil you 
 evoke in me will bring a legion others !" She paused, 
 and suddenly checked herself, while the menacing 
 expression faded from her eye. " Good night, 
 Mark," resumed she, after a long silence, in her usual 
 quiet tones ; then taking a candle from a side-table, 
 without another glance at her lover, Lilian glided 
 with noiseless step from the room. 
 
 A satirical expression of irrepressible mirth passed 
 over Mr Braddyll' s face ; he then closed the piano, 
 and advancing to the fire, leaned with his elbow on 
 the mantel-piece, and stood wrapped in reverie, until 
 the light shed by the glowing embers faded gradu-
 
 212 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 ally away ; then extinguishing the candles, he quitted 
 the room. 
 
 Lilian Grant meanwhile proceeded towards Alice's 
 chamber. Not the slightest trace of her conversation 
 with Mr Braddyll was discernible on her features, 
 and she moved along with the peculiar gliding gait 
 habitual to her, as noiselessly and steadily as the 
 light streaming from the candle in her hand flashed 
 onwards before her. Now and then she paused, and 
 looked back down the lofty galleries, with their pro- 
 fusion of decorations, which she had just traversed ; 
 and something of a triumphant smile flitted over her 
 face — then it vanished, and she resumed her pro- 
 gress. 
 
 Lilian Grant owed her introduction to Methwold 
 Abbey solely to Mr Braddyll. About four years 
 previous to the commencement of our history she 
 had been thrown, a penniless orphan, on the charity of 
 her uncle, a surgeon in small practice in the neigh- 
 bouring town of Denbridge, and was received into 
 his family on condition of undertaking the education 
 of his three children. Circumstances at the time 
 rendered Miss Grant's compliance with these terms 
 indispensable : indeed, such was then her embarras-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 213 
 
 sing position that she would even gladly have ac- 
 cepted the post of dispenser of her uncle's drugs, 
 thereby to purchase his favour and protection. When 
 time, however, had somewhat blunted the feelings of 
 shame and despair, amounting almost to frenzy, 
 which overwhelmed her for long after she learned her 
 destitute condition, and made her gladly hail a home, 
 however humble, amongst her kindred — Lilian began 
 to show indubitable symptoms that the occupation of 
 governess to her cousins was an employment exces- 
 sively irksome and distasteful ; and one to which her 
 spirit could by no means tamely bend. 
 
 In consequence, therefore, of the very negligent and 
 inefficient manner in which she performed (or rather 
 neglected altogether) her part of the arrangement, 
 which insured to her the shelter of her uncle's roof, 
 high words speedily ensued : but neither anger nor 
 remonstrance the most urgent could awaken in her a 
 sense of the duty and gratitude which she owed to 
 those who had befriended her in her hour of need. 
 Lilian listened in sullen, resentful silence : never con- 
 descending to utter a word of excuse for her conduct, 
 or a promise to amend what was so displeasing to her 
 relatives ; who, much as they might desire it, were 
 too poor to support her in idleness. At length, mu-
 
 214 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 trial dissatisfaction reached its climax, and Lilian's 
 uncle went the length of plainly desiring his niece to 
 seek out another home ; when an event occurred, in- 
 significant as it at first seemed, which changed the 
 current of Miss Grant's operations, and, for a time at 
 least, converted her into a personage supple and ac- 
 commodating as her relations could desire. 
 
 It chanced that one day Mr Braddyll slightly 
 injured his hand, while shooting over a portion of the 
 Methwold estate contiguous to the town of Denbridge. 
 The wound bled profusely ; and, ignorant what might 
 be the extent and consequences of the hurt, Mr 
 Braddyll hurried to the town to avail himself of the 
 professional assistance of the first surgeon he met 
 with. Seeing the name of " Thomson, Surgeon," in- 
 scribed in gigantic letters on the door of a house in 
 the outskirts of the town, Mr Braddyll knocked, and 
 from the little smiling obsequious man, who immedi- 
 ately presented himself in the dingy apartment 
 beyond the surgery, yclept a consulting room, he 
 speedily obtained the aid required. 
 
 Several successive visits to the surgeon's house, 
 before the wound healed, procured for Mr Braddyll 
 the honour of an introduction to Mr Thomson's in- 
 dolent, sturdy-tempered niece Lilian. From that
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 215 
 
 da} 7 a total change became perceptible in Miss Grant's 
 deportment. Mr Braddyll's visits were repeated, even 
 when neither plaster nor poultice could be pleaded in 
 excuse ; and the assiduities of a personage, mighty in 
 the favour and countenance of the redoubtable Mrs 
 Beaufort (though the origin and motive of the extraor- 
 dinary confidence and privileges enjoyed by Mr Brad- 
 dyll at Methwold always puzzled the busy-bodies of 
 the neighbourhood), contributed in no small degree to 
 increase Lilian's importance in her uncle's household. 
 Affairs progressed in this fashion for the space of 
 six months — Miss Grant angrily repelling any at- 
 tempt to elicit from her the nature and intent of Mr 
 Braddyll's attentions — until Alice Berners was ex- 
 pected at the Abbey. Mrs Beaufort, whose secluded 
 habits necessarily consigned her visiters to their own 
 resources for the greater part of the day, began then 
 seriously to consider the evils of leaving her young, 
 beautiful, and volatile guest for so many hours, and 
 sometimes even days, companionless. Mr Braddyll 
 immediately proposed Miss Grant, as a fit and suit- 
 able friend for the youthful Alice. He extolled the 
 perfect respectability of her family and conduct ; 
 lauded her discretion and modesty; and spoke in 
 raptures of her varied accomplishments,
 
 216 
 
 Glad to be relieved from her difficulty, Mrs Beaufort 
 soon authorized Mr Braddyll to propose the matter to 
 Miss Grant , and also to request her uncle's sanction to 
 the project. It was with a joy which sent the blood 
 bounding through her veins, that the artful, ambi- 
 tious Lilian listened to the proposal. She was too 
 waiy, however, and had reflected too deeply on her 
 position, in its apparently most insignificant bearings, 
 to accept the post of paid companion to Miss Berners ; 
 could she by the skilful exercise of her cunning ob- 
 tain any other. Putting on an appearance of hesita- 
 tion, therefore, she requested a few days to deliberate 
 on Mrs Beaufort's offer. 
 
 During this interval, Lilian so successfully cajoled 
 her uncle, and took advantage of his satisfaction at 
 what he called " her promotion," as to extort from 
 him a promise that his house should be her home, 
 until her marriage with Mr Braddyll, whenever she 
 chose to make it so. Armed with this assurance, 
 Miss Grant next signified to Mr Braddyll, that it 
 was not her intention to accept Mrs Beaufort's offer, 
 unless she was received at Methwold without salary, 
 and on equal terms with Alice, as a visiter ; and that 
 mil liberty was allowed her to absent herself at plea- 
 sure from the Abbey : at the same time, Lilian made
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 217 
 
 a general promise to be always ready to give Miss 
 Bemers the benefit of her society whenever she was 
 requested to do so. 
 
 There was something so novel in this apparent dis- 
 interestedness, that it charmed Mrs Beaufort ; who 
 knew not the cunning of the ambitious mind she had 
 to deal with. Her prepossession being confirmed by 
 Mr Braddyll's eloquent praise, and the adroit Lilian's 
 humble, deprecating demeanour, during an audience 
 of some minutes, to which she was admitted before 
 Alice's arrival, Miss Grant's debut at the Abbey was 
 at length arranged to the entire gratification of her 
 inordinate vanity. 
 
 Over Alice's affectionate nature, and fiery impulsive 
 temper, Lilian soon gained sway. When the swift hur- 
 ricane of passion arose, and Alice's spirit was roused 
 and goaded almost to madness — often by the artful 
 insinuations of her friend — Lilian stood cool and col- 
 lected, ready to steer the tempest-tossed vessel into 
 the haven whither she would have it anchor. 
 
 But to return to Lilian's midnight visit to Alice's 
 chamber : a voice soft and low, differing greatly from 
 the sparkling animation of Alice's usual tones, re- 
 sponded to her knock at the door, and bade her enter. 
 Miss Bemers was standing before the fire, enveloped
 
 218 
 
 in a large white peignoir, her luxuriant hair stream- 
 ing over her shoulders. Her face was paler, and its 
 expression more subdued than ordinary. Lilian put 
 down her candle, and stood a few minutes silently by 
 her side ; for Alice's glance and manner did not wel- 
 come her with their usual warmth : besides, there 
 was a weariness in Miss Berners' mode of throwing 
 herself into the chair near, almost betokening impa- 
 tience at the intrusion on her retirement. 
 
 " You look fatigued to-night, dearest Alice — 
 weary, I suppose, of reigning queen of hearts ! " ex- 
 claimed Lilian at length ; approaching, and gently 
 putting back the tresses from Alice's brow, she 
 pressed her lips on the white forehead beneath. 
 
 Miss Berners replied by an impatient gesture. 
 
 " Alice ! " resumed Miss Grant, kneeling down on 
 the hearth-rug, and playfully glancing into her 
 friend's face, " Alice, you are pensive this evening. 
 Would you still, as you vowed this morning, give 
 half your future inheritance to have prevented Cuth- 
 bert Stuart's visit?" 
 
 A burning blush rose to Alice's brow. 
 
 " There is something so candid, manly, and hon- 
 ourable, in all Captain Stuart does or says, Lilian, 
 which, whenever I meet him, makes me hate myself,
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 219 
 
 and heartily wish every word I have uttered against 
 him unsaid!" rejoined Miss Bemers hastily, with a 
 touch of petulance in her tone. 
 
 " What would Leonard Somerton say, I wonder, 
 Alice, could he hear this lowly confession, and listen 
 to your praise of his rival?" 
 
 " I neither know nor care, Lilian : when I have 
 finally accepted Mr Somerton's addresses, it will be 
 time enough to consider his pleasure! Ever since 
 Lady Mary has been visiting her son at Dingley, to 
 please Mrs Beaufort, I have endured a daily martyr- 
 dom in playing the agreeable to a being languid 
 and unamusable as her ladyship is!" replied Alice 
 haughtily, turning aside her beautiful head. 
 
 u Your personal and mental gifts, dear Alice, raise 
 you so far above other girls, that you can afford to 
 be capricious — to smile upon your adorers one day, 
 and to frown the next!" rejoined Miss Grant, caress- 
 ingly. " Leonard Somerton, nevertheless, has ad- 
 vantages enough to commend even your allegiance, 
 my darling Alice. Rich, and carrying the prestige 
 of his opulence and talents wherever he goes ; be- 
 sides, finding himself generally the handsomest and 
 most distinguished man present, in any room he 
 enters ; it is a pity Mr Somerton cannot make over
 
 220 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 to that sensible, attractive Captain Stuart, even the 
 overflowings of his cup of prosperity ! Did you not 
 once tell me, Alice dear, that Captain Stuart's com- 
 mission comprises all his worldly wealth?" asked 
 Lilian, in her most insinuating accents. 
 
 " Really, Lilian, Captain Stuart has never con- 
 fided to me the extent of his pecuniary resources ! 
 He is good ! His mind is great and noble ; and he 
 would sooner die than commit a dishonourable action ! 
 So would Leonard Somerton also : and I ! when I 
 compare myself to either of them — oh, Lilian, what a 
 contrast do I then behold!" exclaimed Alice impetu- 
 ously, tears filling her eyes. 
 
 " But Captain Stuart is so grave — so reserved, 
 Alice. Besides, this white hand was never made to 
 carry a soldier's knapsack : it must sparkle with 
 gems, dearest, and rule hereafter with lighter sway 
 over the Beaufort heritage, than does that of Meth- 
 wold's present mistress ! " Lilian paused : there was 
 a passive resolution in Miss Berners' manner which 
 she could not comprehend. " Did you observe Mar- 
 garet Desmond this evening, Alice?" at length re- 
 sumed she. " How preposterously she dressed her- 
 self out : but how pretty she looked ! It strikes me, 
 Alice, that were you to throw a little more animation
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 221 
 
 into your manner, you might perhaps find Mr Somer- 
 ton as agreeable as Captain Stuart. I never saw 
 anything more beaming and fascinating than his 
 smile, whilst he conversed with Miss Desmond. He 
 evidently courts and likes that indirect homage to his 
 talents that she is only too ready to pay ! " 
 
 The colour gathered on Alice's cheek. Lilian's 
 eyes sought the ground with a well satisfied expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " You think so ? Yet, Lilian, I happened to over- 
 hear a scrap of conversation between Mr Carnegie 
 and Mr Somerton, anything but complimentary to 
 Miss Desmond ! " answered Alice, biting her rosy lip. 
 
 " But you know, Alice, a disdainful word from a 
 lover's lips is not always to be taken in its literal 
 sense : not, dear, that I mean to insinuate that Mr 
 Somerton is likely to look twice at a little plebeian 
 like Margaret Desmond ; only it is to be hoped that 
 the notice he has bestowed upon her may not turn her 
 foolish head, with visions of reigning over the splen- 
 dours of Woodthorpe Park ; which she was describ- 
 ing to us con amore this morning. Mr Somerton 
 must have known her before, Alice. Probably Miss 
 Desmond is the village clerk's daughter, or some- 
 thing of the kind!" said Lilian, in her most non-
 
 222 
 
 chalant manner, rising, and preparing to take her 
 leave for the night. 
 
 " Probably ; and this would account for Mrs Beau- 
 fort's strict injunctions that Margaret should never 
 revert to her past history. I can fancy the agony 
 Lady Mary suffered this evening, with her aristo- 
 cratic prejudices, when she saw her idolized son 
 flirting with Mrs Beaufort's companion!" rejoined 
 Alice, angrily. 
 
 "Good night, dearest," said Miss Grant, as she 
 stood twining one of Alice's shining ringlets round 
 her finger. "Remember the proverb says, 'when 
 poverty walks in at the door, love flies out of the 
 window.' Look in the glass, dear Alice, and say 
 whether that fair form was ever intended to shroud 
 itself in poverty's humble garb, or to hide away 
 from the world's admiring homage R It would re- 
 mind one of the story of ' The Sleeper Awakened ' 
 in the Arabian Night Tales, — would it not, dearest, 
 - — were Margaret Desmond to rise some fine morn- 
 ing lady of Methwold and Woodthorpe?" exclaimed 
 Lilian, indulging in a low satirical laugh. 
 
 The angry spot burned brighter on Alice's cheek. 
 Miss Grant, however, quickly made her retreat, ere 
 her friend replied; satisfied with the sensation her
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 223 
 
 words had produced, and actuated by much the same 
 kind of feeling which might induce a poisoner to re- 
 frain from doubling his deadly dose,— not from any 
 compassion for his miserable victim, but lest its too 
 prompt effect should prematurely disclose his vile 
 intent. 
 
 xllice passively witnessed her departure j and then 
 the chaos of conflicting feelings, and powerful emo- 
 tion found, vent in tears. Alice seldom wept : there 
 was a natural buoyancy in her disposition which 
 in general successfully wrestled with depression ; 
 but when once her fortitude yielded, tears rained 
 in torrents from her eyes, and her form quivered 
 with passionate emotion. Like Marie de Medici, 
 of whom it is recorded that in her stormy par- 
 oxysms of grief, the tears, instead of rolling down 
 her cheeks, actually darted vehemently from her 
 eyes, so Alice now wept, though with less frantic 
 violence than the passionate queen ; until, faint and 
 exhausted, she leaned back on the pillow of her chair, 
 and bowed her face on her folded hands. 
 
 Two vehement passions reigned in Alice's bosom • 
 each in turn wrestling for the mastery, and each 
 daily, nay, almost hourly, prompting actions which, 
 under the influence of the counteracting principle
 
 224 
 
 ever alive in her mind, became the sonrce of the 
 keenest regret and anguish. These two opposing 
 powers were, — ambition, and her passionate attach- 
 ment to Cuthbert Stuart. 
 
 In Alice, the longing for the magnificence, the 
 luxuries, and pomps of earth clung with a tenacity 
 apparently inseparable from her being. Her soul 
 sickened with dismay, even at the inadequate picture 
 imagination presented of the suffering entailed by 
 poverty, privation, and obscurity. She had tasted 
 the sweets of wealth ; and, as yet, none of the an- 
 xieties and bitterness of spirit its possession gene- 
 rally brings. Her beauty enchanted all hearts ; but, 
 like the gorgeous colouring of some rare exotic, it 
 paled under a wintry sky. Without the admiring 
 homage of those around her, — without the sunshine 
 of adulation, Alice's lively wit slumbered, her beam- 
 ing eye became languid, and a restless longing for 
 excitement rendered her irritable and impatient. 
 
 Warm and impulsive in her temper, Alice's 
 actions too often sprang from the fiery promptings 
 of the moment, seldom from innate principle. The 
 seeds of envy and jealousy of all who interfered 
 with her projects for gratifying the ruling pas- 
 sions of her heart, slumbered within — though little
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 225 
 
 did she divine it — ready to spring to life and vigour 
 at the first subtle suggestion of the tempter. 
 
 Yet Alice, with her many defects of character and 
 education, possessed a warm and sensitive heart. She 
 was generous almost to a fault, and totally devoid 
 of personal jealousy, or any of the littleness of that 
 selfish depreciating spirit, which treacherously aims 
 a covert blow at a neighbour's reputation m fame. 
 To those whose presence, therefore, clashed not with 
 Alice's besetting sin, — ambition, — she appeared one 
 of the fairest, brightest, and most amiable of beings 
 No ill-natured word ever dropped from Miss Ber- 
 ners' lips; no envious smile, jest, or ill-concealed 
 pique, marred the sunny radiance which she shed on 
 all around. 
 
 From the secret influence which Cuthbert Stuart 
 exercised over Alice's mind, sprang all these best 
 and most amiable traits of character ; in her wildest 
 bursts of passion, in the hour when her vanity and 
 love of worldly grandeur met with keenest gratifica- 
 tion, the thought of him — of his love, and of his 
 earnest entreaties to her to guard against these be- 
 setting sins, for his sake — arose in her mind with 
 softening, reproachful power. In such moments Alice 
 loathed her past frivolities, and with much humiliation 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 226 
 
 of spirit set about the task of self-examination ; and 
 many then were her aspirations after that solid, ster- 
 ling worth of character she had not strength to attain 
 by her own efforts, and to possess herself of which 
 she sought no higher aid. 
 
 With a character thus diversified, and at variance 
 with itself — comprehending much that was good and 
 noble, though unfortunately the evil too frequently 
 predominated — Alice Berners, some two years before 
 our story opens, returned home from Canada, on the 
 death of her father, to reside with her aunt, Mrs 
 Cecil. Colonel Berners held abroad a high perma- 
 nent command ; and his beautiful daughter early 
 tasted the delights of reigning with omnipotent sway 
 over the society in which she moved. Her meeting 
 with Captain Stuart happened about a year previous 
 to her arrival in England, and commenced with a 
 catastrophe which all but proved fatal to Alice. 
 
 In the course of his duties, Colonel Berners had 
 occasion officially to visit a distant military station, 
 situated in a rude, uncivilized part of the country. 
 As Alice's fond father was too prone to indulge her in 
 all her most extravagant caprices, she met with but 
 little opposition when she announced her intention of 
 accompanying Colonel Berners on his expedition ; as ?
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 227 
 
 wearied with the monotony and sameness of her life, 
 she panted for new scenes, and fresh excitement. 
 Their journey was happily accomplished ; and Alice 
 and her maid took up their abode in a house situated 
 at some short distance from that prepared for her 
 father and his suite. 
 
 Charmed with the novelty of her position, the 
 beauty of the scenery, and above all with the va- 
 rious conquests her bright eyes achieved amongst 
 the officers quartered in this remote place, Alice one 
 night retired to rest, thoroughly exhausted, after a 
 long, fatiguing excursion to a distant part of the 
 country, which had lasted the entire day. Her sleep 
 was profound ; but in the middle of the night she 
 awoke, with a sensation of overpowering oppression, 
 accompanied by an indistinct consciousness of a vio- 
 lent noise and tumult reigning around. She raised 
 herself on her elbow, and tried to gaze about ; but a 
 drowsiness she could neither account for nor repel, 
 made her sink back on her pillow. Again the con- 
 fusion and shouts without roused her ; attended this 
 time by a sharp crackling sound, and a suffocating 
 smell of burning wood. With a thrill of terror Alice 
 started up ; and wrestling with the stupor which over- 
 powered her, she dashed back the bed-curtains. The
 
 228 
 
 room was filled with dense smoke, through which 
 Alice could nothing discern but the bright glare of 
 flames curling round the beams and wainscotting of 
 her chamber. The house was built of shingles ; 
 and the conflagration proceeded with awful rapi- 
 dity, even during the few minutes Alice tremblingly 
 gazed. With a scream of terror she sprang from the 
 bed ; a dizzy, sickening sensation overpowered her, 
 and she grasped the curtains to keep herself from 
 falling. Again the tumult from below ascended. 
 Alice thought that she heard her own name eagerly 
 repeated, and again she made another vain attempt 
 to reach the window. The unutterable agony of the 
 next few moments, before her consciousness failed, 
 Alice ever remembered with horror ; which, in after- 
 life, whenever she alluded to it, produced a fit of vio- 
 lent nervous excitement. The heat of the apartment 
 became insupportable : the flames hissed and roared 
 sullenly round her bed ; brilliant tongues of fire 
 seemed to dart forth from amid the black curling 
 vapour filling the room, — and she remembered no 
 more. 
 
 In truth, such was the rapidity of the flames, that 
 had Alice been exposed to their fury five minutes 
 longer, her existence would soon have terminated.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 229 
 
 The window of the room, however, was suddenly 
 dashed in, and Captain Stuart, at the imminent peril 
 of his life, sprang in, and approached the bed. The 
 curtains had just ignited, and threw a red, lurid 
 glare over Alice's beautiful form. One arm hung 
 down, and rested on the flaming valance ; yet, so 
 profound was her stupor, that no appearance of suf- 
 fering distorted her face, though Captain Stuart 
 shuddered at the sight of the dreadful wound dis- 
 figuring her fair hand and wrist. To catch Alice up 
 in his arms, and to bear her swiftly and safely away 
 from this scene of peril, was but the work of a 
 second ; and then, as Colonel Bemers clasped his 
 daughter to his heart, words can feebly paint his joy 
 and thankfulness, or the warmth of his grateful ac- 
 knowledgments to her deliverer. 
 
 Miss Berners recovered very slowly from the 
 shock, and for many weeks afterwards her health 
 remained in a most precarious condition. The 
 wound on her arm, likewise, long baffled every at- 
 tempt to heal it; and after all, when its cure was 
 accomplished, not all the resources of surgical art 
 could prevent that frightful disfigurement of the once 
 perfect hand and arm, which had so excited Mar- 
 garet's curiosity and wonder.
 
 230 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Meanwhile, Captain Stuart was the privileged 
 and favoured attendant of the invalid. His charac- 
 ter, calm, reflective, and dispassionate — the very op- 
 posite, therefore, to Alice's — soon gained extraordi- 
 nary ascendency over her. He spoke to her heart, 
 to her intellect, to her principles — all responded be- 
 neath the magic touch ; and Alice Berners, unwon 
 by any of the crowd of trifling adorers of her beauty 
 and wit, yielded her heart to the only man who had 
 had manly dignity enough to repose on his own 
 character to obtain her regard, without once seeking 
 to enhance his suit, further than strict truth would 
 permit, by playing upon her besetting foible — 
 vanity. 
 
 Though for the six months previous to her depar- 
 ture from Canada, Captain Stuart was Alice's con- 
 stant companion, and all but acknowledged suitor, 
 he had never formally asked her to become his wife, 
 or sought to bind her faith by exacting the slightest 
 promise ; though the fullest understanding of their 
 mutual position to each other subsisted. Captain 
 Stuart's fortune was small : Alice's a mere trifle, 
 though her father's income, from professional ap- 
 pointments, was a large one. Perhaps Alice's lux- 
 urious habits, and lavish expenses, justly caused
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 231 
 
 Captain Stuart to hesitate, ere, for her own sake, he 
 suffered her to plight her faith to him, and bind her- 
 self to marry a man whose income would amount to 
 less than she had been yearly in the habit of squan- 
 dering in trifles. 
 
 Before Alice sailed for England, Captain Stuart, 
 in their farewell interview, placed upon her wounded 
 hand the gorgeous ring she still constantly wore. It 
 was an ancient and singular family jewel, bearing 
 the motto, " le jour Yiendra." With passionate vehe- 
 mence Alice pressed the ring to her lips, as she 
 received it from Captain Stuart's hand, vowing 
 never again to lay it aside ; and tears of trustful 
 hope sprang to her eyes as she read its motto. 
 
 Again, while she sat in her stately chamber at 
 Methwold Abbey, after Lilian's departure, Alice 
 drew the precious ring from her finger, and tears 
 once more fell upon and dimmed its lustre : she 
 read its motto — " le jour viendra" — and a ray of 
 joy swept across her face. With hurried step she 
 arose, opened a bureau, took therefrom a small mi- 
 niature case, and reseated herself at her toilette. 
 With her elbows resting on the table, and her hands 
 clasped across her brow, to still its painful throb- 
 bing, Alice sat with the miniature before her.
 
 232 AGATHA BEAUFOET, 
 
 Captain Stuart's features, as delineated in the por- 
 trait, were not regularly handsome ; but intellect 
 had set her stamp upon the broad, open brow, and 
 sparkled in the clear, brown eye. The predominant 
 expression of his face was thoughtful decision. The 
 mouth was sweet and serious-looking ; a short, well- 
 trimmed moustache grew over the upper lip, and the 
 round and firmly-cut chin implied a resolution of cha- 
 racter which Captain Stuart's disposition did not 
 belie. 
 
 Had Alice, after her arrival in England, remained 
 longer under Mrs Cecil's care, her present sharp, 
 though most unworthy conflict, might probably have 
 been spared her ; and she would have been by this 
 time Captain Stuart's happy, contented wife. Sub- 
 dued by the change wrought in her circumstances 
 by her father's sudden death, Alice, fallen from her 
 high estate, was better inclined to receive and be- 
 nefit by her aunt's judicious counsels. Mrs Beau- 
 fort's invitation, however, unfortunately arrived ; and 
 with a burst of triumphant joy, inexplicable to Mrs 
 Cecil, her niece prepared to enter on her new and 
 glittering career. Captain Stuart's return home, on 
 furlough, from abroad was hourly expected ; yet 
 Alice, with a presentiment that the prospect she so
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 233 
 
 joyfully hailed would not afford her lover equal sa- 
 tisfaction, hastened her departure from Scotland. 
 
 From the day of her arrival at Methwold Ab- 
 bey, Alice's trial began. A week or two after that 
 event, Mrs Beaufort put the crowning point to her 
 young cousin's exultation, by mysteriously hinting 
 that the ultimate possession of Methwold Abbey it- 
 self, was a prize not too glittering to be aspired to, 
 provided Alice was fortunate enough to attract Mr 
 Somerton's approval. Then the conflict arose in 
 Alice's bosom : wealth, honours, distinctions the most 
 alluring, lay at her feet, awaiting but appropriation. 
 
 Mr Somerton, it was true, was not that ardent 
 lover her vanity demanded : he admired her beauty, 
 was fascinated at first by her wit ; and, in obedience, 
 it was whispered, to the urgent request of his father, 
 Sir James Somerton, was content to show her public 
 homage, whilst he took time to consider whether Mrs 
 Beaufort's reputed rich and beautiful heiress would 
 suit him as a wife : and few there were who looked 
 on Alice and doubted what his decision would be. 
 
 As for Alice herself, she felt assured of her con- 
 quest ; and, in truth, until Margaret's arrival, not a 
 suspicion rose in her bosom that her conviction 
 might, after all, be a fallacious one. To be rivalled,
 
 234 
 
 perhaps successfully — to have her garland of worldly 
 honours roughly snatched from her, at the moment 
 that she was deliberating whether to bind it on 
 her brow, was humiliation too intolerable for Alice's 
 spirit to contemplate. Lilian Grant knew well the 
 pride, towering and mighty, which reigned in her 
 friend's heart. 
 
 At length Alice closed the miniature case. A 
 deep sigh escaped her lips, and she once more ap- 
 proached the fire. What were her sentiments for 
 Leonard Somerton? Fascinated by his handsome 
 person, and the grace and vivacity of his conversa- 
 tion, for a brief period she had imagined that she could 
 return his assumed attachment. Soon, however, the 
 delusion vanished : her affection, she found, was 
 irretrievably another's ; and thenceforth her demean- 
 our to Mr Somerton became a treacherous lure which 
 nothing could justify. Judging Leonard Somerton 
 by the feelings agitating her own heart, Alice, never- 
 theless, thought that the prospect of eventually in- 
 heriting Methwold must insure her conquest ; but 
 now the first glimmering of conviction dawned upon 
 her mind, that perchance his wife's mind and char- 
 acter might be matters as interesting to Mr Somer- 
 ton as the amount of her inheritance.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 235 
 
 Could she permit herself, — she, the all but acknow- 
 ledged heiress of Methwold Abbey, to be despoiled 
 of what she had for so many months regarded as 
 her future heritage, and condemned, whether she 
 would or not, to a life of poverty, by the artful lures 
 of Mrs Beaufort's dependant ? Should she not, there- 
 fore, abandon herself to her ambitious designs, and 
 avoid further intercourse with Captain Stuart during 
 his stay in the neighbourhood? Temptation was 
 busy at her heart : Lilian Grant, her words and her 
 counsels, rose up before her. 
 
 Alice Berners meditated ; with what result will 
 afterwards appear.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Margaret, meantime, followed Mrs Beaufort when 
 she quitted the drawing-room. 
 
 In silence they proceeded through the picture gal- 
 lery j Mrs Beaufort's stately figure, as she walked 
 forwards, lamp in hand, rendered still more im- 
 posing by the ample folds of her purple velvet 
 gown, which swept the ground. Every now and 
 then she raised the light, and rapidly glanced on 
 the portraits as she passed. Margaret's heart beat 
 almost audibly as they approached the picture of 
 the Lady Mabel ; and a shuddering dread crept over 
 her as she looked at Mrs Beaufort, and felt herself 
 alone with her: as, for aught she knew, that uncon- 
 trolled passion which brought perdition to the origi- 
 nal of that bright picture, might be burning in her 
 heart also. The same fierce, impetuous blood circled
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 237 
 
 in Mrs Beaufort's veins ; and, with the beauty of her 
 ancestress, was it not possible that she might also 
 have inherited the Lady Mabel's dark, relentless 
 character ? 
 
 Anxiously, therefore, did Margaret watch Mrs 
 Beaufort's demeanour as she passed the picture. 
 Would the pale, transparent-looking apparition flash 
 upon them, to warn and testify, that neither in this 
 world nor the next is there repose for the wicked, 
 and that as the tree falleth so will it lie to all eter- 
 nity? Not a pause, nor a gesture, however, did 
 Mrs Beaufort make, until she reached the door at 
 the extremity of the gallery. Here she paused, and 
 deliberately raising her lamp, surveyed the picture 
 marked a Edith Beaufort;" then her gaze fell long 
 and searchingly on Margaret. Having thus appa- 
 rently satisfied her curiosity, Mrs Beaufort, without 
 a word tending to enlighten Margaret as to what 
 was passing in her mind, resumed her progress 
 towards her own apartments. 
 
 Near the door of the tapestried gallery, Cartaret 
 met her mistress : her face looked flushed and 
 anxious ; her brows were bent, and Margaret re- 
 marked a ruffled negligence in the prim, quaker-like 
 neatness of her usual attire. As soon as she per-
 
 238 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 ceived Cartaret, Mrs Beaufort turned, and with an 
 imperious gesture waved Margaret back; then ad- 
 vancing a few steps, so as effectually to guard 
 against her conversation being overheard, began a 
 low and earnest conference with her maid. Their 
 mysterious colloquy lasted, it might be, about ten 
 minutes, and Cartaret then retired through the gal- 
 lery. Mrs Beaufort beckoned then for Margaret to 
 approach her. 
 
 " This evening, Margaret, I have no further need 
 of your services ; you may therefore retire to your 
 room, which I hope you find comfortable, and 
 as you like it. We shall meet early to-morrow 
 morning, as I breakfast below : at ten o'clock pre- 
 cisely I expect to see you in my sitting-room," said 
 she. 
 
 There was now deep sadness in the full tones of 
 Mrs Beaufort's voice ; and her words falling, divest- 
 ed of her usual frigid utterance, sounded strangely 
 in Margaret's ear. When the latter ventured to 
 look up, there was suppressed emotion, or rather 
 passive endurance, marked on Mrs Beaufort's pale 
 chiselled face ; and tremulous shadows floated in 
 those dark, deep eyes, replacing their usual unflinch- 
 ing, steady gaze. Insensibly Margaret's heart soft-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 239 
 
 ened : she felt irresistibly impelled to harbour warmer, 
 kindlier feelings, and to try to gain the love, perhaps 
 also the confidence, of her proud, reserved kins- 
 woman. Again she looked eagerly into Mrs Beau- 
 fort's face : a smile, the first cordial smile Margaret 
 ever beheld her vouchsafe, now parted her fall, 
 round lips. She presently extended her hand ; Mar- 
 garet took it, and raised it to her lips. She fancied 
 the act was acknowledged by a slight pressure ; then 
 Mrs Beaufort withdrew her hand, and entering her 
 apartments, hastily closed the door. 
 
 Long that night Margaret sat and mused on the 
 strange variableness of Mrs Beaufort's character, and 
 on the extraordinary elements of which her household 
 was composed. 
 
 Whilst she was employed, early the following morn- 
 ing, in condensing the substance of her midnight re- 
 veries into a letter to her father, Alice entered the 
 room, to invite her to walk before breakfast. During 
 the night there had been a rapid thaw ; and now the 
 morning sun shone brightly, and the leafless trees 
 displayed their delicate fretwork of twigs and branches 
 on a sky of transparent blue. Wishing much to 
 walk through the gardens and grounds, Margaret 
 gladly complied with Alice's request ; feeling also
 
 240 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 that her enjoyment would be much increased "by the 
 absence of Lilian Grant : who, Alice laughingly de- 
 clared, was too devoted a worshipper of the god Mor- 
 pheus, ever willingly to interrupt her repose at so 
 early an hour, for the sake of a morning stroll. Mar- 
 garet quickly arrayed herself for her walk, and soon, 
 with her arm linked within Alice's, she strolled out 
 into the clear bracing air. 
 
 " Well, Margaret, this is the first opportunity we 
 have had for exchanging a few words together since 
 yesterday morning!" exclaimed Alice, when, after 
 taking Margaret through the flower-garden and con- 
 servatories, she turned into a terraced walk, sheltered 
 by thick plantations. " How did your interview 
 go off with Mrs Beaufort ? What do you think of 
 her?" 
 
 " I found Mrs Beaufort very kind, though of course 
 rather formidable in her manner at first. I think I 
 shall like her very much!" replied Margaret, still 
 under the influence of her softened feelings of the pre- 
 vious evening. 
 
 " That was precisely my feeling, Margaret, when 
 first introduced to Mrs Beaufort. How strange, that 
 her chilling hauteur does not inspire us with those sen- 
 timents of fear and dislike which it invariably pro-
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 241 
 
 duces on others ! What are jour occupations to 
 be?" 
 
 Margaret remembered Mrs Beaufort's emphatic 
 prohibition against reporting anything that occurred 
 in her apartments. 
 
 " Her instructions, dear Alice, were of course given 
 in very general terms : Mrs Beaufort expects my at- 
 tendance in her sitting-room from ten o'clock until 
 luncheon time. My first occupation, I suppose, 
 will be to arrange some old papers and letters!" 
 at length replied Margaret. She had, however, 
 no sooner uttered the last sentence, than she wish- 
 ed it unsaid. Alice's bright piercing eyes testified, 
 plainly as words could do, that she had committed an 
 error. 
 
 " The papers, I presume, contained in the curious 
 Venetian cabinet in Mrs Beaufort's bedchamber?" at 
 length said Miss Berners, slowly : then she added, 
 somewhat ironically, perceiving Margaret's hesita- 
 tion, " You need not play the mysterious with me, 
 Margaret : what Mrs Beaufort intrusts to you, she 
 would surely confide to me — her heiress ! Are you 
 going to look over these papers I allude to, Mar- 
 garet?" demanded Alice, haughtily. 
 
 u I cannot reply to your question, Alice. Mrs 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 242 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Beaufort prohibited me from betraying to any one 
 the commands she gave me ; my duty, therefore, is 
 silence. Your best plan will be to seek information 
 from Mrs Beaufort herself on the subject," coolly re- 
 plied Margaret. 
 
 Alice looked greatly displeased : she, however, 
 suffered the subject to drop. 
 
 " Mr Carnegie's scarlet camellia, yesterday, nearly 
 overturned my gravity when he entered the room. 
 Really, Margaret, one might augur some future very 
 happy event from his attentions to you : I never 
 heard him, before your arrival, speak civilly to any 
 woman ; while his whole conversation used to be 
 one shameless tirade on their fickleness and hypo- 
 crisy !" exclaimed Alice at length, merrily, and with 
 recovered good humour. " Do you know, Margaret, 
 my suspicion would be strongly kindled (for old men 
 sometimes take strange fancies into their heads), but 
 for a little secret Mr Somerton most maliciously be- 
 trayed, and which I unluckily overheard, to the utter 
 confusion of my contemplated romance !" 
 
 " Mr Somerton ! What secret could he possibly 
 reveal?" and Margaret's blue eyes rested with in- 
 tense curiosity upon her companion. " What can 
 you mean, dear Alice ? Mr Somerton, knowing
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 243 
 
 nothing of me, cannot be in possession of any secret 
 in which I am concerned." 
 
 Alice walked on, assiduously plucking the red 
 haws from a small branch of thorn in her hand ; 
 and soon her cheek rivalled in colour the brilliant 
 berries she so petulantly tossed from her. 
 
 " Not even by virtue of his father's manorial rights 
 and privileges, Margaret? Do you think that the 
 prettiest girl in Woodthorpe could betroth herself 
 unknown to Mr Somerton?" asked Alice, demurely. 
 
 In a moment Margaret recollected her meeting 
 with Mr Somerton, when George Compton was walk- 
 ing with her : she remembered also her intense vexa- 
 tion at the time. • Poor Margaret ! all things seemed 
 to combine against her comfort. A flush of mortified 
 pride mantled her brow, as she replied warmly. 
 
 " If Mr Somerton made such an assertion, Alice, 
 it was not said with his usual courtesy ; nor with a 
 regard to that strict veracity for which he has the 
 reputation !" 
 
 " Excellent, Margaret ! I wish Mr Somerton could 
 hear you ! Nevertheless, I perceive that you do not 
 deny the imputation." 
 
 " Totally, Alice. I do not deny that Mr Somer- 
 ton may have seen me once or twice in company
 
 244 
 
 with a certain personage resident at Woodthorpe, 
 whose attentions were anything but acceptable to 
 me ; but if a betrothment is proclaimed on such 
 trivial evidence , few would be safe from the imputa- 
 tion ! Tell me, dear Alice, I entreat, exactly the 
 words you overheard." 
 
 Miss Berners hesitated: she perceived that Mar- 
 garet's spirit was roused. 
 
 " You ask me in so earnest a tone, Margaret, that 
 'tis impossible to refuse your request ; much as I dis- 
 believe the statement, and deprecate Mr Somerton's 
 bad taste in indulging in such gossip. Bemember, 
 dear Margaret, that I now only mechanically repeat 
 what I overheard : I can neither vouch for its truth, 
 nor testify its falsehood. Mr Carnegie, in his usual 
 abrupt manner, was questioning Mr Somerton, whilst 
 you were at the piano, respecting your family ; and 
 putting many impertinent questions of a very per- 
 sonal nature regarding yourself. Mr Somerton dis- 
 claimed any knowledge of your parents, whom he 
 represented as low, vulgar people, living in most 
 straitened circumstances in a cottage on his father's 
 estate. As for yourself, he said, that he understood 
 you had long been engaged to many a thriving young 
 farmer of the name of Compton ; a match all your
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 245 
 
 friends rejoiced at exceedingly, as one infinitely 
 (he seemed to insinuate) above your pretensions." 
 Alice paused ; she turned to Margaret, whose eyes 
 were filled with tears. " I regret that I yielded to 
 your request, Margaret, and repeated this slander — 
 for slander I feel sure it is. Do you forgive me ?" 
 
 Margaret's proud blood boiled ; though Mr Somer- 
 ton's contemptuous, patronizing way of speaking of 
 her filled her with the keenest sorrow, and disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 " Forgive you, Alice, when it was I who imposed 
 the ungrateful task upon you ? Believe me, I can 
 bear most courageously the momentary chagrin your 
 words have roused; for Mr Somerton's assertion is one 
 tissue of misrepresentation throughout," responded 
 she, at length, indignantly. 
 
 A well satisfied smile flitted across Alice's face : she 
 hastened then to change the conversation. Their 
 walk had led them by a circuitous route, back again 
 to the front of the mansion. 
 
 " How sparkling the lake looks this morning, 
 Margaret, with its dark background of majestic trees ! 
 Oh, this old abode of the Beauforts is a noble place ! " 
 exclaimed Alice, and her eyes wandered exultingly 
 round. " When I am mistress here," continued she,
 
 246 
 
 " I will have that clump of evergreen oaks cut down, 
 so that the beautiful Priory ruins may be seen from 
 every part of the lake " 
 
 u Then Miss Berners would not act with the good 
 taste we all give her the credit of possessing!" ex- 
 claimed a voice from behind, which made Alice start, 
 and then blush crimson. 
 
 To be caught openly speculating on plans for the 
 future, dependent upon certain contingencies, such as 
 the decease of another person, is not a very pleasant 
 circumstance ; as it implies a want of delicacy and self- 
 command not over flattering to the taste or judgment. 
 
 " Nay, Mr Somerton, my project, at first hearing, 
 sounds a little barbarous towards the poor oak trees, 
 I grant ; still, the prospect from the house would be 
 so greatly improved by their removal, that I do not 
 despair yet of bringing Mrs Beaufort over to my 
 opinion, and perhaps yourself also !" rejoined Alice, 
 with prompt playfulness of manner ; and with one 
 of her most brilliant smiles she extended her hand 
 to Mr Somerton, who, unperceived by the young 
 ladies, had joined them on the lawn, where Alice's 
 observation on the beauty of the scenery had made 
 them pause. 
 
 " I fear your eloquence would fail to convince me,
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 247 
 
 Miss Berners, that any advantage would be gained 
 by stripping yonder beautiful ruin of its screen of 
 foliage. I hope you will not signalize' your accession 
 here, to which I think I heard you allude, by so re- 
 morseless a deed ! " rejoined Mr Somerton ; then turn- 
 ing towards Margaret, he held out his hand, saying, 
 " Mr Carnegie was much disappointed at your sud- 
 den disappearance from the roorn yesterday evening, 
 Miss Desmond, without taking leave of him !" 
 
 Margaret, however, was not to be propitiated by 
 the marked courtesy of Mr Somerton's manner ; for 
 she felt far too wounded and offended at the way in 
 which he had spoken of her, to be pleased, or flattered 
 by any notice he might henceforth vouchsafe. With- 
 drawing her hand, therefore, she coldly bowed ; then 
 turning towards Alice, whose bright eyes were fixed 
 upon her, said, 
 
 " I am going in now, dear Alice : it must be 
 nearly, if not quite, Mrs Beaufort's breakfast hour ;" 
 and, without hazarding another glance at Mr Somer- 
 ton, Margaret walked away and entered the house. 
 
 Her first impulse was to fly to her chamber. Had 
 her resentment been too strongly manifested ? What 
 would Mr Somerton think of her altered manner? 
 Would he ascribe her discourtesy and abruptness to
 
 248 
 
 lack of refinement and knowledge of the world, and 
 so, instead of feeling rebuked for his misrepresenta- 
 tions to Mr Carnegie, charitably make up his mind 
 to tolerate and excuse her ignorance ? 
 
 Margaret would have sat indulging some consider- 
 able time longer in thoughts so little comforting and 
 agreeable, had not the sound of the gong announced 
 that breakfast was ready. She rose, and, after hur- 
 riedly smoothing her ringlets, descended to the break- 
 fast-room. 
 
 Most of the company had taken their seats round 
 the table, at which Mrs Beaufort presided. Mr 
 Somerton stood reading a newspaper near the win- 
 dow ; when she entered the room, unabashed by her 
 late rebuff, he instantly advanced towards her, smiled, 
 and then drew back the chair, placed opposite to Mrs 
 Beaufort, for her to sit down. Margaret's cheek 
 crimsoned; but whether her colour rose from the 
 glow of early exercise, resentment, or from any 
 other cause, she alone is competent to decide. She 
 hesitated, however, before taking possession of the 
 conspicuous seat offered to her, and stood looking 
 very pretty in her embarrassment; though with a 
 little secret irritation lurking at heart, that Mr 
 Somerton had failed to take the hint administered,
 
 OE FAMILY PRIDE. 249 
 
 as she hoped, with such effect before breakfast. Still 
 there he calmly stood, looking down upon her with 
 his dark brilliant eyes not a particle of pique, re- 
 sentment, or restraint visible in his manner. 
 
 " Miss Desmond, will you be kind enough to pour 
 out the coffee, and take your seat, and allow Mr 
 Somerton to do so likewise?" said Mrs Beaufort, in 
 impatient tones from the top of the table. 
 
 Margaret hurriedly obeyed ; and with some con- 
 fusion commenced her task. Mr Somerton, however, 
 appeared not the least inclined to avail himself of 
 Mrs Beaufort's hint ; for he still continued to stand 
 by Margaret's chair, talking, despite her cold repelling 
 tones, with that highbred ease of manner and lively 
 gaiety which infallibly pleases every woman's fancy, 
 be she peasant or duchess : and that often, moreover, 
 achieves the conquest of her heart. Nevertheless, 
 look as disdainfully reserved as she might, and de- 
 cline all assistance with her loftiest and most cere- 
 monious courtesy, still Mr Somerton persisted in his 
 attempt to draw Margaret into conversation. She 
 could have wept for vexation ; for what other motive 
 was it possible to assign to his assiduity, except an 
 insulting resolve to show her that the displeasure of a 
 personage so utterly insignificant as herself could not
 
 250 
 
 affect him : nay, so totally was it beneath his notice 
 that he scorned even to resent it. 
 
 This persuasion sealed still more closely our 
 heroine's lips ; and her very laconic answers having 
 at length dwindled down into brief monosyllables, 
 Mr Somerton (disgusted as she supposed with her 
 rustic shyness, or stupidity) left her side, and betook 
 himself to the vacant chair by Alice ; who, looking 
 fresh and fair as a rose-bud, sat by Mrs Beaufort. 
 It was some consolation, however, for Margaret to 
 think that, at last, her ungracious demeanour had pro- 
 duced its intended effects. She had now satisfied 
 her wounded vanity : and had shown Mr Somerton 
 that, low and vulgarly born as were her parents, their 
 daughter at any rate possessed sufficient spirit and 
 dignity to reject the specious advances of an indi- 
 vidual who considered her so much beneath him : yet 
 a feeling of indescribable sadness rose within her. 
 
 She had probably for ever deprived herself of the 
 pleasure of listening again to that low earnest voice, 
 which had addressed her in such kindly accents on 
 the previous evening. What must Mr Somerton also 
 think of her conduct, after his generous assistance to 
 her father — to which she had never even distantly 
 alluded.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 251 
 
 So occupied was Margaret by her thoughts, that, 
 had she been called upon to join in conversation, 
 her presence of mind must have failed ; but no one 
 spoke to her : Mr Somerton and Mrs Beaufort were 
 conversing together. An unusual shade of gravity 
 now replaced the sparkling animation of Alice's charm- 
 ing face : opposite to her sat Captain Stuart, talking 
 at long intervals with Lady Mary ; who looked fragile 
 and delicate as a snowdrop, in her morning-dress. 
 
 Lilian Grant occupied the seat on Margaret's right 
 hand ; on her left was a vacant chair, which in a few 
 minutes Mr Braddyll appropriated. As he took his 
 seat, Margaret thought of that other companion she 
 might probably have had, had her deportment been 
 more courteous and encouraging. Miss Grant pre- 
 sently glanced steadily at Mr Braddyll ; and Mar- 
 garet then perceived her gaze fixed, with a significant 
 unpleasant expression, on Alice and Mr Somerton. 
 
 Mr Braddyll acknowledged Lilian's prolonged 
 notice by a familiar inclination of the head, and 
 then began a series of fluent observations to Mar- 
 garet. Without paying the slightest attention to 
 her evident disinclination to converse, Mr Braddyll 
 perseveringly talked on ; when, luckily for Margaret, 
 he suddenly remembered that Mrs Beaufort never
 
 252 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 made her guests pay for the indolence or unpunctu- 
 ality of any member of her household, by keeping 
 them prisoners at the breakfast-table after they had 
 finished their own meal : which a glance round the 
 table warned him was now nearly the case ; conse- 
 quently, with an assurance (anything but consolatory 
 to poor Margaret) that they could more conveniently 
 pursue their conversation in Mrs Beaufort's apart- 
 ments, where he hoped to meet her during the morning, 
 Mr Braddyll applied himself in right good earnest to 
 make most of the time remaining to him. 
 
 Mrs Beaufort invariably retired immediately after 
 breakfast ; leaving her guests to their own resources, 
 or the companionship of Miss Berners, until luncheon 
 time. Margaret, consequently, waited only about 
 five minutes in the boudoir, ere she was summoned 
 to the mysterious apartment where she had been 
 before introduced. On entering, it struck Margaret 
 that the room presented a more disorderly ap- 
 pearance than it had done on her previous visit ; a 
 massive old-fashioned couch was wheeled from its pro- 
 per position, and stood close to the fire; its large pillows 
 were tossed carelessly about, and bore marks of some 
 one having recently reclined thereon. A strong 
 odour of ether, or of some spirituous fluid, also
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 253 
 
 pervaded the room. A single moment sufficed 
 Margaret for all these observations : perhaps her 
 lonely position, and the mystery which she fancied 
 abounded at Methwold, made her note trifles that 
 otherwise would have passed unnoticed. 
 
 Mrs Beaufort was reserved and cold in her manner : 
 but still, now and then, Margaret thought a kindlier and 
 more approving glance beamed from her eye. Without 
 vouchsafing any previous conversation, she placed a 
 book of accounts in Margaret's hand, and indi- 
 cating the columns she wished her to add up, bade 
 her retire to the adjoining room. As soon as her 
 task was completed, Mrs Beaufort directed her to 
 leave the book on the table, and then immediately 
 repair to the drawing-room to help Alice Berners to 
 entertain Lady Mary Somerton ; whose delicate health 
 confined her to the sofa during the greater part of the 
 morning. 
 
 Margaret needed no stimulus to be diligent : the 
 thought of Mr Braddyll's promised visit gave wings 
 to her fingers. She set assiduously about her task, 
 and had nearly accomplished it, when he entered. 
 Seeing her attention riveted on her occupation, Mr 
 Braddyll passed onwards without speaking. Mat- 
 garet redoubled her diligence ; in a few minutes her
 
 254 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 task was finished : she joyfully placed the book where 
 Mrs Beaufort desired, and quitted the room ; feeling 
 that, for the morning at least, all danger of a private 
 interview with Mr Braddyll was over. 
 
 At luncheon, Mr Somerton neither addressed nor 
 took the slightest notice of Margaret ; and she had 
 the pleasure of perceiving that her repulse at last had 
 been effectual. On re-entering the drawing-room 
 the ladies found Mr Carnegie awaiting them there ; 
 for he had declined Mrs Beaufort's proposal, and re- 
 fused to join the party at luncheon. After some con- 
 versation, Captain Stuart walked to the window, and 
 looked at his watch ; then with a quick, and as Mar- 
 garet thought, meaning glance at Alice, who stood 
 apart talking with Lilian, he approached the door, 
 evidently with the intention of leaving the room. 
 
 " I say, Captain Stuart, I want to speak to you 
 before you go out to walk : I came here on pur- 
 pose to call upon you, hoping to induce you to give 
 me the pleasure of your society at the Holt to-morrow 
 for a few days," exclaimed Mr Carnegie, taking his 
 place in the middle of the hearth-rug with his back to 
 the fire. 
 
 Mrs Beaufort raised her head from her work, and 
 darted such a glance upon Mr Carnegie, that, had
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 255 
 
 that gentleman possessed even a common modicum 
 of deferential reserve, it would have sufficed to awe 
 him into silence for some considerable time to come. 
 
 " I hoped that Captain Stuart intended to give me 
 the pleasure of his company at Methwold, for as long 
 as he finds it agreeable to remain in this neighbour- 
 hood," said she, at length, in tones of stately cour- 
 tesy. 
 
 " I thought, madam, you yourself informed me 
 yesterday evening, that Captain Stuart was only 
 going to remain here until to-morrow. Women are 
 all alike, I declare ! Fix upon a pleasant scheme, 
 and they are sure to circumvent it, if they can ! " re- 
 torted Mr Carnegie, turning towards Mrs Beaufort. 
 
 " I trust Captain Stuart will unreservedly follow 
 his own inclinations. I repeat, that I shall be glad 
 to see him here for as long as he can bestow his com- 
 pany upon us," replied Mrs Beaufort, with more for- 
 bearance than might have been anticipated. 
 
 Captain Stuart stood irresolute. He glanced at 
 Alice : her head was averted, and she still continued 
 talking with Miss Grant. Mr Carnegie fidgeted 
 about. 
 
 " I have accepted Mrs Beaufort's kind invitation 
 to remain her guest until after the Denbridge ball ;
 
 256 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 which, you know, is fixed for to-morrow evening. I 
 suppose we shall meet in the ball-room ; then, if 
 nothing intervenes to prevent, I will gladly spend a 
 few days at the Holt," replied Captain Stuart, cor- 
 dially. 
 
 " Well, well ! only please yourself, — any time will 
 suit me," rejoined Mr Carnegie, carelessly. " I sup- 
 pose you, ladies, have had many debates on gauzes, 
 and such like trumpery ; and the characters you are 
 to assume to-morrow evening. If I had not seen it 
 announced a week ago, by a bill sticking on a wall in 
 Denbridge, that you, Mr Somerton, were going to 
 officiate as steward on the occasion, I should not have 
 gone near this ball. I hate travesty of any kind ! 
 Pray, madam, in what character do you mean to ap- 
 pear?" 
 
 " No character can so well become Mrs Beaufort 
 as her own," replied Mrs Beaufort, coldly. 
 
 " You are right there, ma'am," retorted Mr Car- 
 negie, with a promptness that drew all eyes upon 
 him. " And pray, Mr Somerton, in what new guise 
 are we to see you?" 
 
 " Oh, I shall wear my uniform," replied Mr Somer- 
 ton, glancing up from his book. 
 
 " And you, Miss Bemers ? If I might venture to
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 257 
 
 offer my humble opinion to a young lady of such 
 acknowledged taste as yourself, I should say that the 
 rdle, and costume of Queen Mary Stuart, would suit 
 you well. What do you think, Captain Stuart?" 
 asked Mr Carnegie, with a malicious smile. Alice 
 colmvred deeply : much to her relief, however, Cap- 
 tain Stuart had just quitted the room. In an instant 
 or two she raised her head impatiently ; the more so, 
 as she perceived that Mr Somerton was likewise ex- 
 pecting her answer. 
 
 " You and I, Mr Carnegie, seem ever destined to 
 disagree in matters of taste and of opinion : I flatter 
 myself that few characters could be more diametri- 
 cally opposed to my own than that of the fickle Scot- 
 tish Queen. The Stuarts are no favourites of mine ; 
 nor, in short, are any of their costumes or characteris- 
 tics," responded Alice, at length, bending over her 
 embroidery frame. " No ;" continued she, after a 
 pause, " I have almost decided upon personating the 
 Empress Nourmahal : her attire might be rendered so 
 rich and picturesque. Do you not think so, Mr 
 Somerton?" 
 
 " Very, indeed : the robes of an Eastern empress 
 cannot fail to be so. I think I should prefer a simpler 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 258 
 
 costume, nevertheless/' responded Mr Somerton, 
 quietly, without looking up from his book. 
 
 " But you know that the ' Light of the Harem ' 
 was not always an empress " 
 
 " There you are right, Miss Alice. History tes- 
 tifies that this same beautiful Xourmahal, whom ^ou 
 seem to admire, broke one true heart which opposed 
 itself to her ambitious projects ! I appeal to all here 
 present, whether the character which I proposed im- 
 plied not a greater compliment to your personal and 
 mental charms than that you have yourself selected." 
 
 Again Alice blushed ; and, with an angry toss of 
 her head, bent still lower over her work. 
 
 " I have already bespoken for the beauteous Nour- 
 mahal the choicest bouquet of exotics that London 
 can yield," said Mr Braddyll, gallantly. 
 
 A slight inclination from Alice's stately head tes- 
 tified that she heard ; though she did not raise her 
 eyes, but continued working steadily. A smile curled 
 Lilian Grant's lips ; for although she was sitting by 
 Lady Mary Somerton on the sofa, striving diligently 
 to accomplish the task she had earnestly solicited, of 
 teaching her ladyship a new stitch in knitting, she 
 did not lose a syllable of the conversation going on
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 259 
 
 around her. Mr Carnegie stood by the fire, with his 
 hands thrust behind his back, his pale blue eyes 
 wandering vacantly round the room. At length they 
 riveted themselves on the portrait of Mr Desmond; 
 which, from some inexplicable caprice, judging by 
 her conduct in other respects, Mrs Beaufort still per- 
 mitted to adorn the walls of the saloon. 
 
 " Pray, madam, may I take the liberty of inquir- 
 ing who the original of that portrait is ? I never saw 
 a more gentlemanlike pleasant-looking personage," 
 said he, keeping his eye fixed on the picture. 
 
 Apparently Mrs Beaufort did not hear the question ; 
 for just at the moment she rose, and took a seat on the 
 sofa near Lady Mary. Mr Carnegie's curiosity, how- 
 ever, seldom remained ungratified for lack ot urgent 
 demand; he therefore repeated the inquiry. This 
 time Alice took upon herself to answer. 
 
 " That picture, I believe, is the portrait of a 
 nephew of the late Sir John Beaufort's. You need 
 not ask me more, Mr Carnegie, for I am not suffi- 
 ciently versed in the genealogy of the Beauforts, to 
 afford you further information," replied she, quickly, 
 with pretty scorn. " Margaret, I want to speak to 
 you! Do, pray, come hither!" continued Alice. 
 Miss Desmond silently rose, and placed herself by
 
 260 AGATHA BEAUFOKT, 
 
 Miss Berners on the divan. " Are you going with 
 us to the ball to-morrow evening?" 
 
 Mr Carnegie, who was just indulging in some very 
 sarcastic speech, relative to the propensity of the 
 Beauforts to claim kindred with every handsome face 
 delineated on canvass in the house — including saints, 
 angels, and even the Venus de Medici herself — here 
 broke off abruptly, and fixed his keen eyes on Mar- 
 garet and her friend. 
 
 " I never heard that there was to be a ball at Den- 
 bridge until this minute, Alice : I do not know whe- 
 ther Mrs Beaufort wishes me to go," replied Margaret, 
 hastily glancing at Mrs Beaufort, whose change of 
 position had brought her close enough to hear any 
 conversation passing at Alice's work-table. 
 
 " Surely, Miss Desmond, you will not be cruel 
 enough to refuse us the pleasure of your company?" 
 exclaimed Mr Braddyll earnestly, looking intently at 
 Mrs Beaufort. 
 
 " And the ball, likewise, under Mr Somerton's 
 patronage ! Why do you not rise, sir, and formally 
 petition for the honour of Miss Desmond's presence?" 
 said Mr Carnegie, bluntly. 
 
 Mr Somerton smiled one of his quiet pleasant 
 smiles.
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 261 
 
 u I am sure no interest of mine is needed to in- 
 duce Mrs Beaufort to accede to a request, which, if 
 agreeable to Miss Desmond, will add so very much 
 to the enjoyment of her friends !" said he at length, 
 with ready tact. 
 
 Margaret's eyes sparkled: she wished much to 
 make one of the party to the ball. 
 
 " There need not be any incertitude about the 
 matter. I intend to take Miss Desmond to the ball 
 to-morrow evening," interposed Mrs Beaufort, coldly, 
 whilst a slight colour suffused her face. 
 
 " But your dress, dear Margaret — your dress ! 
 How shall we manage in this short space of time?" 
 exclaimed Alice, playfully, putting on an air of mimic 
 consternation. 
 
 " Alice, you will oblige me by confining your at- 
 tention to your own attire !" said Mrs Beaufort, dis- 
 pleased apparently that the conversation and atten- 
 tion of every one present was centred on Margaret. 
 " Miss Desmond's dress and character will be consis- 
 tent with the position she occupies in my household," 
 added she, decisively. 
 
 " Like master, like man ! One just as much in 
 character as the other, I protest ! Truly there is 
 enough masquerading in real life, without going in
 
 262 
 
 pursuit of it at a ball ! Pray, madam, as I always 
 take you for my guide on such occasions, at what 
 hour is it etiquette to make one's appearance in the 
 room to-morrow evening?" asked Mr Carnegie, in 
 a tone of concentrated bitterness. 
 
 Every eye turned on Mrs Beaufort. None dared 
 accost her in the tone of insolent familiarity habitual 
 to Mr Carnegie : yet, for some inexplicable reason, 
 his visits were tolerated at the Abbey. 
 
 " I shall enter the ball-room at ten o'clock pre- 
 cisely," replied she, at length, in tones unmoved. 
 
 " Good morning, madam." 
 
 Mrs Beaufort bowed. 
 
 " Mr Carnegie ! Mr Carnegie ! " said Alice mer- 
 rily, as he was leaving the room, " you have not yet 
 told us what your character is to be. You have been 
 so obliging as to propose several for me — now, what 
 do you think of that of King Midas for yourself?" 
 
 " You are disposed to be witty, pretty Mistress 
 Alice. Look at home first ! " and Mr Carnegie quit- 
 ted the room, bestowing upon Alice' one of his most 
 significant nods. 
 
 For nearly half an hour after Mr Carnegie's depar- 
 ture, Alice bent over her frame. The mysterious 
 manner he frequently adopted when speaking to her —
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 263 
 
 a tone, hovering between menace and warning — often 
 excited both uneasiness and displeasure in her mind. 
 Annoyed and vexed with herself for the faithless be- 
 trayal of her promise to Captain Stuart, and busied 
 also in revolving what possible connexion there could 
 exist between Mr Carnegie and her family, that might 
 account for his knowledge of her past history, Alice 
 worked on in moody silence. When, at length, she 
 raised her head, she found that, during her reverie, the 
 room had been deserted by all except Mr Somerton, 
 who still sat reading. 
 
 " You do not appear to like the character I have 
 chosen, Mr Somerton, for the Denbridge ball — your 
 ball, as I call it ! " at length, said Alice, in a tone 
 of slight pique, after considering for some time how 
 she could commence a conversation. 
 
 " I think that the costume will be very magnifi- 
 cent, and cannot fail to be becoming to you " 
 
 " But, notwithstanding, you do not like it ! Why 
 do you use so much ceremony with me, Mr Somer- 
 ton ? If you do not approve of the character, say so 
 without scruple, and I will not assume it : you know, 
 that as the ball is under your patronage, you have a 
 right to be consulted on its details!" exclaimed Alice,
 
 264 
 
 with peevish impetuosity ; for her temper had been 
 severely tried during the morning. 
 
 Mr Somerton looked up from his book : presently 
 he rose, and approached the couch on which Miss 
 Berners sat. She smiled coquettishly ; but Mr Som- 
 erton did not take the vacant place by her side. 
 
 " Then if you wish for my flat, as master of the 
 ceremonies, Miss Berners, I say, wear your gorgeous 
 Eastern costume. Doubtlessly, yours will be the 
 most picturesque dress in the room !" replied he, in 
 his usual unembarrassed tones. 
 
 Alice slightly frowned. She observed that Mr 
 Somerton avoided giving his opinion, save in general 
 terms. 
 
 " There will be many splendid dresses to-morrow 
 evening, I have no doubt ! " retorted she, too angry 
 to volunteer further details respecting her own cos- 
 tume. " Do you not think, that it is very foolish of 
 Mrs Beaufort to take Margaret Desmond with her ? 
 The poor girl will sit down during the whole even- 
 ing : for it is inflicting too onerous a duty, to expect 
 that you can find partners for Mrs Beaufort's dame 
 de compagnie! I fear Mr Carnegie's officious inter- 
 ference will occasion poor Margaret a great deal of
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE, 265 
 
 annoyance ! " added Miss Berners, after a short inter- 
 val, speaking in compassionate tones. 
 
 "I do not see any reason why Miss Desmond 
 should be annoyed in the way yon mention : though, 
 as yon predict, I think it possible that I may be hardly 
 treated. Miss Desmond's graceful manners, and 
 pretty face, are sure to bring multitudes of petitioners 
 for the privilege of an introduction ; so that, in the im- 
 partial discharge of my grave duties, I shall perhaps 
 be required to forego the pleasure of dancing with 
 her myself!" replied Mr Somerton, quietly, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Mr Somerton' s admirable qualities daily display 
 themselves !" exclaimed Alice, satirically, now fairly 
 provoked beyond restraint. " I had often heard him 
 quoted as a model landlord ; though, I confess, I never 
 understood that he carried his interest in his tenantry 
 so far, as to introduce their daughters at county 
 balls!" 
 
 Mr Somerton looked at her, but made no reply. 
 Miss Berners then rose, and impetuously plunging 
 her needle into the glowing rosebud she was em- 
 broidering, quitted the room. 
 
 In the hall Alice met Captain Stuart ; who gazed 
 on her flushed cheek and sparkling eye with surprise.
 
 266 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 
 
 As she hastily attempted to pass, without speaking. 
 he gently took her hand. In his presence Alice felt 
 her indignation fade away, for she knew its cause 
 was unjustifiable ; and deep shame took possession 
 of her, as she encountered his clear inquiring eyes. 
 
 " Alice, dearest, what has agitated you thus "? 
 "Why did you not keep your promise, and meet me ?" 
 asked he, gravely. 
 
 " I have been detained. Do not keep me, Cuth- 
 bert : indeed, I cannot explain now ! I will tell you 
 all another time I" exclaimed Alice, excitedly ; then 
 disengaging her hand she sprang from him, and 
 bounded up stairs.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Mrs Beaufort's dinner-party on the day of Mr 
 Carnegie's visit was enlivened by no additional guests 5 
 the evening consequently dragged heavily along: 
 everybody appeared pre-occupied and absorbed in 
 their own meditations ; till Margaret began to com- 
 prehend that it was possible to be dull even when 
 surrounded by the beautiful glittering lights and 
 costly furniture which had so charmed her on her first 
 introduction to Mrs Beaufort's saloon. 
 
 Alice looked restless and flushed, flitting from 
 group to group, with an anxiety to make herself 
 agreeable, and to talk and be conversed with, strangely 
 at variance with the usual haughty languor of her de- 
 portment when displeased, or wearied, with the com- 
 pany of those she was for the moment associating with. 
 Mr Somerton was silent and reserved. Margaret saw
 
 268 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 that he evidently felt and resented her conduct, as 
 he appeared studiously to avoid addressing her. 
 
 She thought of their pleasant conversation of 
 the preceding evening, and a feeling of indescrib- 
 able sadness filled her heart ; then, as she sat 
 unnoticed and disregarded, she pondered on the 
 singular discrepancy between Mr Somerton's words to 
 herself, and his statements respecting her volunteered 
 to others. Did he believe in the reality of her 
 betrothment to George Compton ? And if so, what 
 was there now in her outward circumstances to shake 
 his conviction, or to efface the impression confirmed by 
 meeting her twice walking tete-a-tete with Mr Compton 
 — once, Margaret remembered too, with feelings of ex- 
 treme confusion, after dusk. Alice also had stated that 
 Mr Somerton alluded to her engagement as a fortu- 
 nate event ; — one to which in the ordinary course of 
 things she could scarcely have aspired; and he now 
 met her at Methwold in the position of Mrs Beau- 
 fort's humble companion, — a personage bound to 
 receive submissively every mortification heaped upon 
 her by her employer. Did not Mrs Beaufort's man- 
 ner also plainly show that her companion's presence in 
 the drawing-room was merely tolerated, by the marked 
 distinction between the nonchalant treatment she
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 269 
 
 received at her hands and the gracious suavity of 
 her demeanour manifested towards her other guests 
 — Lilian Grant included? As may be supposed, 
 these depressing reflections did not add much to the 
 brilliancy or animation of our heroine's appearance ; 
 nor were her feelings greatly exhilarated, when, just 
 before the party separated, Alice approached, and 
 whispered in her ear, — 
 
 " Eeally, Margaret, your face during the last half- 
 hour has worn the most lamentable expression. I 
 wonder whether Mr Compton has been sitting with a 
 like rueful countenance to-night ? Leonard Somer- 
 ton and myself have been speculating upon, and 
 trying to account for, your melancholy : we have 
 been excessively amused !" 
 
 The evening altogether had been so irksome to 
 Margaret, that she experienced a pleasure hitherto 
 unknown, in following Mrs Beaufort from the draw- 
 ing-room when the latter retired for the night. 
 
 At the door of her room, Mrs Beaufort paused, and 
 bade Margaret retire to her own apartment for a quarter 
 of an horn*, and then return to her again. More and 
 more mystified, Margaret obeyed, wondering what 
 this nightly ceremony meant. Exactly at the time 
 specified she returned, and in the boudoir found
 
 270 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 Cartaret, who informed her that Mrs Beaufort was 
 still engaged, but would very speedily require her 
 presence. There was always a familiarity in Car- 
 taret' s deportment which Margaret disliked exces- 
 sively ; she therefore invariably received her com- 
 munications in silence, though she often thought the 
 former looked as if she would like to be questioned. 
 
 It fortunately happened that the boudoir, where 
 Margaret had so frequently to await her audiences, 
 was plentifully furnished with books ; one of these 
 therefore she now took up. Cartaret lingered for 
 some time about, dressing up the bouquets, trim- 
 ming the lamp, and dusting the vases ; all, as it 
 struck Margaret, with the evident intent of affording 
 herself a plausible pretext for remaining in the room. 
 At length she took her departure ; then, amid the 
 stillness which ensued, Margaret's quick ear de- 
 tected the sound of voices in the rooms beyond, 
 apparently in high altercation. A door was violently 
 slammed to, and for a few minutes every thing was 
 silent. Again the angry voices approached ; and so 
 near did they now sound, that Margaret felt assured 
 the speakers had entered the chamber next to her. 
 She listened with intense interest : soon she recog- 
 nised Mr Braddyll's voice, but his enunciation was
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 271 
 
 so constrained and rapid that she could not catch the 
 import of his words. The conversation then subsided 
 into a low murmur : so it continued for some time. 
 Then the words, " I will not !" were angrily and 
 emphatically uttered by a voice which Margaret 
 recognised as Mrs Beaufort's. Another tremendous 
 concussion of a door shook the china ornaments in the 
 boudoir ; then the one opening into the latter from the 
 inner apartment was no less roughly thrown open. 
 
 Margaret sprang up in affright ; for Mr Brad- 
 dyll, as she expected, entered. His. face was ex- 
 ceedingly red, and his demeanour altogether testi- 
 fying how great must have been his recent excite- 
 ment. He hesitated a moment whether to ad- 
 vance, when he perceived her. An expression, 
 which instinctively made Margaret shudder, lighted 
 his eye; then he approached, and before she was 
 aware of his intention, took her hand and gazed 
 earnestly into her face. Margaret indignantly averted 
 her head, and vainly essayed to withdraw her hand, 
 which Mr Braddyll retained with iron grasp within 
 his own. 
 
 " Mr Braddyll, release my hand ! I was desired 
 by Mrs Beaufort to await her summons here. Does
 
 272 
 
 she not wish me to go to her immediately '?" asked 
 Margaret, now beginning to be seriously alarmed at 
 the excitement of Mr Braddyll's manner. 
 
 " Margaret ! will you listen to me ? Shall I 
 render you totally independent of that proud, hateful 
 woman?" asked Mr Braddyll in low, thick tones, 
 pressing her hand to his lips. 
 
 Swiftly she snatched it from his grasp : a deep 
 blush suffused her face and neck, as she retreated a 
 step, and proudly waved him back. 
 
 " Mr Braddyll, what means this your strange 
 language and manner to me to-night ? I wish to be 
 alone. Leave me! I will listen to nothing you 
 have to say — nothing, I tell you !" exclaimed Mar- 
 garet, haughtily. 
 
 " Yet would I do you infinite service, Margaret. 
 That angry frown of disdainful incredulity ill becomes 
 a face divine and heavenly as yours : it would 
 better suit Mrs Beaufort's imperious brow. Mar- 
 garet, your position here is more perilous than you 
 imagine : say, that you will be guided by my ad- 
 vice !" said Mr Braddyll, fixing a gaze of admiration 
 on Margaret's face. 
 
 She saw it not, however, for she had turned away,
 
 OR FAMILY PEIDE. 273 
 
 and her eyes were bent on a book open before her 
 on the table. Mr Braddyll came and stood beside 
 her : he repeated his question. 
 
 "When I came to reside at Methwold Abbey, 
 I resolved to act in all things under the advice and 
 guidance of Mrs Beaufort : that resolution I see no 
 reason to recall," replied she, coldly. 
 
 An angry frown swept over Mr Braddyll' s brow. 
 He stood silently by the table for some minutes. 
 
 " Margaret, you will repent this infatuation some 
 day. Learn ! proud as you are, that it was I who 
 brought you here ." 
 
 Mr Braddyll paused; for Margaret turned and 
 confronted him with an air of bewildered astonish- 
 ment. The words, " It was I who brought you 
 here," seemed to resound in her ears. Another glance 
 at Mr Braddyll' s flushed face and excited appearance 
 made her recoil in disgust, and almost smile at her 
 credulity in heeding the words of a man evidently 
 half inebriated — at least, thus only could Margaret ac- 
 count for the extraordinary wildness of his language 
 and manner. Alarmed now beyond measure, Mar- 
 garet meditated on the expediency of terminating an 
 interview so embarrassing and degrading, by a flight 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 274 
 
 back to her own room ; when Mrs Beaufort's welcome 
 summons from the adjoining apartment afforded her 
 unspeakable relief. She sprang towards the door 
 with an energy not a little accelerated by fear. 
 
 " One word, Margaret, — only one more word, be- 
 fore you go. Do you hate me?" exclaimed Mr 
 Braddyll hastily, seeking to arrest her flight by 
 catching hold of the skirt of her dress. 
 
 The fragile muslin tore in his grasp. 
 
 " See, what you have done, Mr Braddyll!" ex- 
 claimed Margaret, her eyes sparkling with indigna- 
 tion as she gathered up and displayed the wide rent. 
 " I do not choose to answer your question. I shall 
 assuredly appeal to Mrs Beaufort ; who, I am con- 
 vinced, will never allow any one under her roof to be 
 so insulted with impunity!" and without vouchsafing 
 another glance, Margaret haughtily passed into the 
 adjoining room, and closed the door after her. 
 
 Mrs Beaufort sat at the table in her own private 
 room. Not the slightest trace of her recent alterca- 
 tion with Mark Braddyll was perceptible in her 
 deportment : all was calm and placid as possible. A 
 faint smile parted her lips as she gazed on Margaret's 
 burning cheeks.
 
 OK FAMILY PRIDE. 275 
 
 " You have just had an interview with Mr Brad- 
 dyll, I suppose, Margaret?" said she, inquiringly. 
 
 Margaret's indignation was now too thoroughly 
 roused, for the awe she habitually felt in Mrs Beau- 
 fort's presence to check her narrative ; she there- 
 fore related all that had passed between herself and 
 Mr Braddyll. Mrs Beaufort's reply, nevertheless, 
 was destined to surprise her as much as the conduct 
 of which she so justly complained. 
 
 "Mr Braddyll has certainly been rather prema- 
 ture in offering his attentions, Margaret. You must, 
 however, excuse him, in consideration of his Italian 
 descent, and that impetuous temperament, which, 
 once smitten with the charms of a pretty girl, like 
 yourself, knows not repose until its passion stands 
 confessed," replied Mrs Beaufort, calmly. "In a 
 few minutes, Margaret, I shall request you to read 
 to me," added she, after a slight pause, pointing to 
 a large volume lying open at the opposite end of the 
 table. 
 
 Margaret felt confounded at the nonchalant man- 
 ner in which Mrs Beaufort received her commu- 
 nication. It never once occurred to her that Mr 
 Braddyll's effusions were other than the result of
 
 276 
 
 an accidental fit of intemperance ; of which he pro- 
 bably would be as much ashamed on the following 
 morning, if he remembered his misconduct, as she 
 could wish him to be. She was musing on the 
 many mysteries which her few days' sojourn at 
 Methwold unfolded, when her eye was attracted by 
 a small miniature, lying in an open drawer, against 
 which she had been unconsciously standing for some 
 
 moments. 
 
 It was the portrait of a gentleman : a foreigner, 
 as Margaret at first sight concluded, from the black, 
 curling beard, whiskers, and moustache, which gave 
 a haughty, sinister expression to the face. The 
 features were small, and singularly handsome ; the 
 eyes dark, shaded by eyebrows slightly curved, 
 of extraordinary thickness, and black as jet. At 
 the foot of the miniature, the words " Gasparo 
 Marescotti" were embroidered in threads of gold, on 
 a lock of shining hair. Margaret's eyes were riveted 
 on the pale, beautiful face ; when, with a suddenness 
 which startled her violently, Mrs Beaufort rose, 
 closed the drawer, and motioned to her to take her 
 place, and begin to read. Mrs Beaufort then threw 
 herself back in her chair ; and Margaret perceiving
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 277 
 
 that she had not only a very attentive auditor, but 
 also a very critical one, exerted herself earnestly to 
 please. 
 
 She had read for upwards of a quarter of an hour, 
 when a loud piercing shriek rang round the room. 
 Another and another followed ; each fainter, and ap- 
 parently more distant. Next came a peal of hyste- 
 rical laughter, dying away in tremulous murmurs. 
 Unutterably appalled, Margaret, closed the book: 
 nor was her fear diminished when, tinning, she per- 
 ceived that every trace of colour had left Mrs Beau- 
 fort's cheeks and lips, while drops of agony glistened 
 on her brow. 
 
 Shocked and terrified beyond measure, Margaret 
 glanced round the room for water. Seeing none, 
 she hastened towards the bell, to summon Cartaret, 
 as Mrs Beaufort's indisposition appeared to increase. 
 
 " No, no ! — the glass on the cabinet, Margaret," 
 gasped Mrs Beaufort; then the words, "my God!" 
 followed by a few sentences, rapidly rnuraiured, 
 though unintelligible to Margaret, escaped her pallid 
 lips. 
 
 The glass contained a dark-coloured fluid, of a 
 strong aromatic odour, which Mrs Beaufort eagerly
 
 278 AGATHA BEAUFORT, 
 
 swallowed ; and then covered her face with her 
 hands. Margaret perceived the tremulous move- 
 ment of her slender fingers as they rested on her 
 brow. After a few minutes Mrs Beaufort rose ; and, 
 pointing towards the door, signed to Margaret to 
 leave her. At first Margaret hesitated to obey this 
 command ; but, in Mrs Beaufort's case, she knew not 
 whether sympathy would be welcomed or resented. 
 
 Silently, therefore, she quitted the room ; and, witli 
 beating heart, hurrying along the galleries, soon 
 gained her own chamber ; where, without permitting 
 herself a single instant to reflect on the strange events 
 of the evening, she immediately commenced her 
 toilette de nuit, with the feeling that her bed would 
 be her safest refuge. Unnerved, and starting at 
 every sound, Margaret soon attained this fancied 
 bourne: drowsiness, that invariable and merciful 
 antidote to great excitement or grief, gradually stole 
 over her, and in a short time after she laid her head 
 on her pillow, Margaret slept. 
 
 Her slumber might have lasted some two hours, 
 when she was awakened by a slight noise in the 
 room. She listened attentively ; but nothing again 
 stirred. In her haste to gain her bed, Margaret had
 
 OR FAMILY PRIDE. 279 
 
 forgotten to draw the window-curtains close together, 
 as was her usual habit ; and through a wide gap be- 
 tween them, the moonbeams poured into the room, 
 shining full upon her bed, and glancing on the brass 
 ornaments of a huge oak cabinet, looking gloomy 
 and shadowy in the uncertain light. 
 
 After the lapse of a few minutes, Margaret's atten- 
 tion was again arrested by a slight, cautious move- 
 ment in the room, and vainly did she strive to quell the 
 throbbing of her heart. The heavy tapestry hangings 
 of the bed presently shook slightly ; another pause : — 
 then the curtain nearest to the tester of the bed was 
 gently withdrawn, and a pale face, shaded by tresses of 
 golden coloured hair, bent over her. A pair of lus- 
 trous, melancholy eyes, shining with clear steadfast 
 radiance, beamed upon her ; while she lay trembling 
 and spell-bound beneath their gaze. The moon- 
 beams played round the lady's white transparent 
 figure, which appeared momentarily to interpose itself, 
 and eclipse their brightness, like a vapoury cloud pas- 
 sing over the sun's disc. In a few minutes the bed- 
 curtain noiselessly glided back to its place : the 
 phantom stood for a moment or two at the foot of the 
 bed, gazing earnestly upon her, and then vanished.
 
 280 AGATHA BEAUFORT. 
 
 Margaret, shudderingly hid her face. She felt 
 that the unhallowed gaze of the Lady Mabel — the 
 mysterious apparition of the picture gallery — had 
 been upon her. 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 PRINTED BY OLIVER AND BOYD.
 
 November 185 1. 
 A 
 
 CATALOGUE OF BOOKS 
 Wavious 25ranrlK$ of iltteraturc, 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 
 
 65, CORNHILL, LONDON. 
 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 New Publications 
 
 . I 
 
 Illustrated Scientific Works 
 
 . 12 
 
 Works of Mr. Ruskin 
 
 • 4 
 
 Oriental and Colonial 
 
 • *3 
 
 ,, Currer Bell 
 
 • 7 
 
 Educational . . 
 
 * H 
 
 „ Leigh Hunt 
 
 . 8 
 
 Religious 
 
 • 15 
 
 Miscellaneous . 
 
 • 9 
 
 Books for the Blind 
 
 . 16 
 
 Works of Practical Informati 
 
 )n 11 
 
 
 
 ^ttparmcj for publication. 
 
 A NOVEL. By W. M. Thackeray, Esq., Author 
 of " Pendennis," " Vanity Fair," &c. In Three 
 Volumes. 
 
 (In January.) 
 
 II. 
 
 THE PRESENT STATE OF PARTIES. A Series 
 of Etchings. With Descriptions. By Richard 
 Doyle, Esq. 
 
 m
 
 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 III. 
 
 WOMEN OF CHRISTIANITY, EXEMPLARY 
 FOR PIETY AND CHARITY. By Miss 
 Julia Kavanagh, Author of " Woman in 
 France," " Nathalie," &c. I vol. post 8vo. 
 With Portraits. Price 12s. cloth. 
 
 {Nearly ready.) 
 IV. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LATE EMPEROR OF 
 CHINA, AND THE COURT OF PEKIN. 
 By the late Rev. Dr. Gutzlaff. i vol. post 8vo. 
 
 (Just ready.) 
 V. 
 
 SUWAROW AND HIS LAST CAMPAIGN. By 
 the late Major Macready. i vol. post 8vo, ioj. 
 cloth. 
 
 (Just published.) 
 VI. 
 
 PICTURES OF LIFE IN MEXICO. By R. H. 
 
 Mason, Esq. 2 vols, post 8vo, with Etchings. 
 
 (Nearly ready.) 
 VII. 
 
 THE FAIR CAREW ; or, Husbands and Wives. 
 3 vols, post 8vo. 
 
 (Just published.) 
 VIII. 
 
 TWO FAMILIES OF CHAPELTON. By the 
 
 Author of " Rose Douglas." 2 vols, post 8vo. 
 
 (Nearly ready.) 
 IX. 
 
 AGATHA BEAUFORT ; or, Family Pride. By 
 the Author of" Pique." 3 vols, post 8vo. 
 
 (Just ready.)
 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO. 
 
 FLORENCE SACKVILLE ; or, Self-Dependence. 
 By Mrs. Burbury. 3 vols, post 8vo. 
 
 " This is a first novel, — we hope it will not be the last by its author. Mrs. 
 Burbury possesses a clear appreciation of humour and pathos, a firm hand in 
 noting down the boundary lines and salient features of character, and a con- 
 stancy to the leading plan and purpose of her story. The story of poor Milly 
 — the pathos of which is fearful — would alone justify us in placing Mrs. 
 Burbury high among modern novelists." — Athenaum. 
 
 " The most promising novel we have met with for some time. It is 
 an extremely careful, skilful piece of writing, containing several sketches of 
 character, finished and truthful in a high degree ; and the spirit in which it 
 is written is as much to be approved as its cleverness. We strongly commend 
 this novel to favourable attention." — Examiner. 
 
 " Mrs. Burbury is very happy in the mode in which she calls the self- 
 dependent character into action, and the occasion on which its strength is 
 assailed." — Literary Gazette. 
 
 " Mrs. Burbury possesses a flowing and racy style, an observant eye for 
 character, a ready faculty of invention, and earnestness of design." — Atlas. 
 
 w Florence is a Daguerreotype of the liveliest stamp." — Globe. 
 
 GOLDEN DREAMS AND WAKING REALI- 
 TIES ; being the Adventures of a Gold-Seeker in 
 California and the Pacific. By William Shaw. 
 Post 8vo, gs. cloth. 
 
 " The title of this book is not inaptly chosen. The story is told plainly, 
 forcibly, and not without a pithy, natural eloquence, while the author's can- 
 dour seems to vouch for the honest truth of his statement." — Atlas. 
 
 " Mr. Shaw suffered and saw suffering such as in fiction would seem un- 
 natural ; his career was one continued series of hardship, privation, and labour, 
 with frequent danger and risk of life." — Spectator. 
 
 " This book is most excellent : its three hundred and sixteen pages of truth 
 have humour and incident enough for the thousand pages of a three-volume 
 novel." — Examiner. 
 
 " From the first page to the last, Mr. Shaw's eventful record is full of in- 
 cident and interest." — Blackwood's Magazine. 
 
 " One of the most interesting and best written books that we have seen on 
 California." — Athenaum.
 
 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 aSBorfea of Jttr. musfcin, 
 
 i. 
 
 THE STONES OF VENICE. Volume the First. 
 The Foundations. 
 
 With Twenty-One Plates and numerous Woodcuts. Imperial 8vo, 2/. is. in 
 embossed cloth, with top edge gilt. 
 
 " The book before us contains Mr. Ruskin's theory and doctrine of the 
 elements of architecture, applied to the various points of practical building. 
 Throughout is manifest the great aim of inculcating, by every possible form 
 of precept and example, the absolute necessity of preserving an unfailing cor- 
 respondence between the destinations of buildings, and their forms and deco- 
 rations. Mr. Ruskin's book cannot be read by any one without improvement 
 to his moral sense and mental discipline. The book has an indestructible 
 value. It tells us the truth on much where it greatly imports us to be in- 
 formed. The eloquence of the book is extraordinary." — Examiner. 
 
 " At once popular and profound, this book will be gratefully hailed by a circle 
 of readers even larger than Mr. Ruskin has found for his previous works. He 
 has so written as to catch the ear of all kinds of persons." — Literary Gazette. 
 
 " The reputation which Mr. Ruskin has earned by his former works will 
 probably receive a great accession of lustre from * The Stones of Venice.' 
 This work, as we had a right to expect from the age and evidently growing 
 powers of the author, may be justly described as his most valuable perform- 
 ance, and fitted to become the most popular of all his productions." — British 
 Quarterly Review. 
 
 " Mr. Ruskin has seized on the great principle that all art is the expression 
 of man's delight in God's work. This is his clue through the universe $ hold- 
 ing fast by that, he can never get far wrong. His pursuit of truth is as 
 admirable for its clearsightedness as it is for its honesty." — Eclectic Review. 
 
 " We adjudge this to be an excellent book, and a valuable assistance, if 
 studied with caution, to students of art. The matter is weighty and sugges- 
 tive j the style, both forcible and beautiful; the lucid order of the composition, 
 admirable." — Architectural Quarterly Review. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE SEVEN LAMPS OF ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 With Fourteen Etchings by the Author. Imp. 8vo, 1/. is. 
 
 "By the 'Seven Lamps of Architecture,' we understand Mr. Ruskin to 
 mean the seven fundamental and cardinal laws, the observance of and obedience 
 to which are indispensable to the architect who would deserve the name. The 
 politician, the moralist, the divine, will find in it ample store of instructive 
 matter, as well as the artist." — Examiner. 
 
 i£
 
 WLoxl% of Jftr. XmAfR. 
 
 in. 
 
 MODERN PAINTERS. Imperial 8vo. Vol I., Fifth 
 Edition, lSs. cloth. Vol. II., Third Edition, lOs. 6d. 
 cloth. 
 
 " Mr. Ruskin's work will send the painter more than ever to the study of 
 nature ; will train men who have always been delighted spectators of nature, 
 to be also attentive observers. Our critics will learn to admire, and mere ad- 
 mirers will learn how to criticise : thus a public will be educated. It is the 
 object of Mr. Ruskin, in his first volume of * Modern Painters,' to shew what 
 the artist has to do in his imitation of nature. In his second volume, he ex- 
 plains the theory of the beautiful." — Blackwood's Magazine. 
 
 IV. 
 
 PRE-RAPHAELITISM. 8vo, is. sewed. 
 
 " We wish that this pamphlet might be largely read by our art-patrons, and 
 studied by our art-critics. There is much to be collected from it which it is 
 very important to remember." — Guardian. 
 
 V. 
 
 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER ; or, 
 The Black Brothers. With 22 Illustrations by 
 Richard Doyle. is. 6d. 
 
 " This little fairy tale is by a master-hand. The story has a charming moral, 
 and the writing is so excellent, that it would be hard to say which it will give 
 most pleasure to, the very wise man or the very simple child." — Examiner. 
 
 " Full of exquisite little pictures, with an under-current of humour floating 
 through, and bearing a moral which can never be repeated too often." — 
 Fraser's Magazine. 
 
 VI. 
 
 NOTES on the CONSTRUCTION OF SHEEP- 
 FOLDS. 8vo, is. 
 
 " A pamphlet on the doctrine and discipline of the Church of Christ." — 
 Britannia.
 
 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 fc Stated Pnstat&nu af "®fc* Stones of 9to*." 
 
 iVbw /« «««<? of publication, in Parts, of Folio Imperial size, il. is. each. 
 
 EXAMPLES OF THE ARCHITECTURE OF 
 VENICE, Selected and Drawn to Measurement 
 from the Edifices, by John Ruskin, Author of 
 " The Stones of Venice,'' &c. Sec. 
 
 Each Part contains Five Plates, engraved by the first artists, and as nearly 
 as possible fac-similes of Mr. Ruskin's original Drawings j and a short ex- 
 planatory text. 
 
 Parts One to Three are published. 
 
 Fifty India Proofs only are taken on Atlas Folio, price zl. zs. each Part. 
 
 Contents of part I. 
 
 Plate 
 
 1. The Ducal Palace. Twentieth Capital. Mezzotint. 
 
 I. Arabian Windows, in Campo Santa Maria Mater Domini. Mezzotint. 
 
 3. Byzantine Capitals, from Torcello and St. Mark's. Tinted Lithograph. 
 
 4. Cornice Moulding, from a Tomb. Tinted Lithograph. 
 
 5. The Ducal Palace. Compartments of Central Balcony. Line Engraving. 
 5B. The Ducal Palace. Sections of the Southern Balcony. Line Engraving. 
 
 Contents of Part H. 
 
 Plate 
 
 6. Saint Mark's. Southern Portico. Mezzotint. 
 
 7. Saint Mark's. Details of the Lily Capitals. Line Engraving. 
 
 8. Byzantine Ruin, in Rio di Ca' Foscari. Line Engraving. 
 
 6. Byzantine Ruin, in Rio di Ca' Foscari. Coloured Lithograph. 
 
 10. Palace in Rio di Ca' Foscari. Conjectural Restoration. Line Engraving. 
 
 Contents of Part III. 
 
 Plate. 
 
 11. Door Heads, from Ca' Contarini, &c. Mezzotint. 
 
 12. Door Heads. Coloured Lithograph. 
 
 13. Door Heads. Line Engraving. 
 
 14. Ca' Bernardo Mocenigo. Capital of Window Shafts. Tinted 
 
 Lithograph. 
 
 15. The Ducal Palace. Renaissance Capitals of the Loggia. Tinted 
 
 Lithograph. 
 
 *
 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO. 
 
 OTorfcs of (Storm, Sllfe, antf*&cton 23eII. 
 
 JANE EYRE : an Autobiography. By Currer Bell. 
 Fourth Edition , post 8vo, 6s. cloth. 
 
 " f Jane Eyre' is a remarkable production. Freshness and originality, truth 
 and passion, singular felicity in the description of natural scenery and in the 
 analyzation of human thought, enable this tale to stand boldly out from the 
 mass, and to assume its own place in the bright field of romantic literature. 
 We could not but be struck with the raciness and ability of the work, by the 
 independent sway of a thoroughly original and unworn pen, by the masculine 
 current of noble thoughts, and the unflinching dissection of the dark yet 
 truthful character." — Times. 
 
 II. 
 
 WUTHERING HEIGHTS and AGNES GREY ; 
 
 with a Selection of the Literary Remains of Ellis 
 and Acton Bell, and a Biographical Notice of both 
 Authors by Currer Bell. Crown 8vo, 6;. cloth. 
 
 " * Wuthering Heights' bears the stamp of a profoundly individual, strong, 
 and passionate mind. This memoir is one of the most touching chapters in 
 literary biography." — Nonconformist. 
 
 III. 
 
 SHIRLEY ; a Tale. By Currer Bell. 3 vols, post 
 8vo, 1/. us. 6d. cloth. 
 
 " c Shirley' is an admirable book; totally free from cant and affectation; 
 genuine English in the independence and uprightness of the tone of thought, 
 in the purity of heart and feeling which pervade it, in the masculine vigour of 
 its conception of character, and in style and diction. It is a tale of passion and 
 character, and a veritable triumph of psychology." — Morning Chronicle. 
 
 " ' Shirley' is very clever. The faculty of graphic description, strong 
 imagination, fervid and masculine diction, analytic skill, all are visible. Gems 
 of rare thought and glorious passion shine here and there throughout the 
 volumes." — Times. 
 
 IV. 
 
 POEMS. By Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell. 
 Fcap. 8vo, 4*. cloth. 
 
 " A volume of poems which will not detract from the fame of the authors. 
 The poems bearing the signature of Currer Bell exhibit the impress of a 
 matured intellect and masterly hand." — Morning Herald. 
 
 •»
 
 • 
 
 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 Wtorife of jWr. %ti$ $^unt. 
 
 i. 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF LEIGH HUNT : 
 
 with Reminiscences of Friends and Contemporaries. 
 3 vols, post 8vo, with Portraits, i/. us. 6d. cloth. 
 
 " These volumes contain a personal recollection of the literature and poli- 
 tics, as well as some of the most remarkable literary men and politicians, of the 
 last fifty years. The reminiscences are varied by sketches of manners during 
 the same period, and by critical remarks on various topics. They are also ex- 
 tended by boyish recollection, family tradition, and contemporary reading ; so 
 that we have a sort of social picture of almost a century, with its fluctuations of 
 public fortune and its changes of fashions, manners, and opinions." — Spectator. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE TOWN : its Memorable Characters and Events. 
 2 vols, post 8vo, with 45 Illustrations, 1/. 4*. cloth. 
 
 " We will allow no higher enjoyment for a rational Englishman than to 
 stroll leisurely through this marvellous town arm-in-arm with Mr. Leigh 
 Hunt. He gives us the outpourings of a mind enriched with the most agree- 
 able knowledge." — Times. 
 
 III. 
 
 MEN, WOMEN, AND BOOKS. 2 vols, post 8vo, 
 with Portrait, 1/. is. cloth. 
 
 " A book for a parlour-window, for a summer's eve, for a warm fireside, 
 for a half-hour's leisure, for a whole day's luxury ; in any and every possible 
 shape a charming companion." — Westminster Review. 
 
 IV. 
 
 TABLE TALK. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, js. 
 
 " Precisely the book we would take as a companion on the green lane 
 walk j and to the drawing-room table it will prove a most esteemed acqui- 
 sition." — Globe. 
 
 V. 
 
 IMAGINATION AND FANCY. Cloth, gilt edges, 
 ioj. 6d. ; boards, 9*. 
 
 VI. 
 
 WIT AND HUMOUR. Cloth, gilt edges, ioj. 6d. ; 
 boards, 9*. 
 
 «
 
 Jfttscdlatuous. 
 
 WOMAN IN FRANCE DURING THE i8th 
 CENTURY. By Julia Kavanagh. 2 vols, 
 post 8vo, with Eight Portraits. 1/. 41. cloth. 
 
 " Miss Kavanagh has undertaken a delicate task, and she has performed it 
 on the whole with discretion and judgment. Her volumes may lie on any- 
 drawing- room table without scandal, and may be read by all but her youngest 
 countrywomen without risk." — Quarterly Review. 
 
 " Which among us will be ever tired of reading about the women of 
 France, especially when they are marshalled so agreeably and discreetly as in 
 the pages before us ? " — Athenaum. 
 
 " The subject is handled with much delicacy and tact, and the book shews 
 often an original tone of remark, and always a graceful and becoming one." 
 — Examiner. 
 
 " Miss Kavanagh has acquitted herself with artist- like skill ; her picture of 
 the manners of a most remarkable epoch is drawn with boldness, precision, and 
 delicacy." — Globe. 
 
 " Delightful volumes, not only of immense interest, but of permanent 
 value." — Britannia. 
 
 ROSE DOUGLAS ; or, Sketches of a Country 
 Parish : being the Autobiography of a Scotch 
 Minister's Daughter. 2 vols, post 8vo, 1/. is. cloth. 
 
 " Among domestic tales, l Rose Douglas' may take the place which Words- 
 worth's * Lucy ' occupies among domestic poems. A more attractive book of 
 its placid order we do not often meet $ we commend this narrative as one sure 
 to interest, to retain, and to satisfy the heart." — Athena?um. 
 
 " ' Rose Douglas' is what it professes to be. In the minute, homely, but 
 delicate painting of the characters of the parish, we are instinctively reminded 
 of the quiet, genuine humour of Gait." — Britan-.ia. 
 
 " It is an interesting and instructive book, and has a character of truthful- 
 ness and reality about it. The author writes from experience, and produces a 
 picture which is singularly defined and clear." — Guardian. 
 
 A TRIP TO MEXICO ; or, Recollections of a 
 Ten Months' Ramble in 1849-50. By a Bar- 
 rister. Post 8vo, 9*. cloth. 
 
 " A very pleasant volume, which conveys a vivid impression of Mexican 
 life and manners." — Critic. 
 
 " An agreeable, amusing, and to some extent instructive volume." — Lite- 
 rary Gazette. 
 
 " We are pleased with the writer's vivacity and candour, and can recom- 
 mend the work as certain to afford instruction and entertainment." — G obe.
 
 £ 
 
 10 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 CONVERSATIONS OF GOETHE with ECK- 
 ERMANN. Translated from the German by John 
 
 OXENFORD. 2 Vols, post 8vO, ll. ^S. cloth. 
 
 u These conversations present a distinct and truthful image of Goethe's 
 mind during the last ten years of his life. And never was his judgment more 
 clear and correct than in his closing years. The time spent on the perusal of 
 this book will be usefully and agreeably employed. Mr. Oxenford's translation 
 is as exact and faithful as it is elegant." — Spectator. 
 
 " These conversations contain a rich vein of wise thoughts upon a great 
 variety of subjects." — Westminster Review. 
 
 A GLANCE AT REVOLUTIONISED ITALY. 
 By Charles Macfarlane. 2 vols, post 8vo, 
 price ll. is. cloth. 
 
 " These two amusing and unpretending volumes give more insight into the 
 present state of the Italian peninsula than can be collected from all the volu- 
 minous speeches, pamphlets, reports, and letters with which the press has been 
 inundated." — Quarterly Review. 
 
 " These volumes afford the fairest view yet given to the public of Italian 
 affairs during the last few eventful months." — Britannia. 
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. A new 
 
 Picture- Book, drawn and written by Mr. M. A. 
 Titmarsh. Second Edition, with a Preface en- 
 titled u An Essay on Thunder and Small Beer." 55. 
 plain, js. 6d. coloured. 
 
 ROWCROFT'S TALES OF THE COLONIES; 
 
 or, The Adventures of an Emigrant. Sixth 
 Edition , fcap. 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " * Tales of the Colonies' is an able and interesting book. The author has 
 the first great requisite in fiction — a knowledge of the life he undertakes to 
 describe j and his matter is solid and real." — Spectator. 
 
 PIQUE. A Novel. 3 vols, post 8vo. 
 
 " ' Pique' is a brilliant novel. There is grace and refinement every- 
 where." — Critic. 
 
 " In this clever book, the enforcement of a sound, social moral, gives 
 energy and purpose to the exercise of the author's powers of observations and 
 description." — Globe. 
 
 " The narrative is so easy, earnest, and pleasant, as to have enticed us 
 on from chapter to chapter, with a charm which is by no means of every 
 week's experience." — Atbenaum. 
 
 %
 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO. II 
 
 (JHorfcs of practical information. 
 
 THE BRITISH OFFICER; his Position, Duties, 
 
 Emoluments, and Privileges : being a Digest 
 and Compilation of the Rules, Regulations, Warrants, 
 and Memoranda relating to the Duties, Promotion, 
 Pay, and Allowances of the Officers in Her Majesty's 
 Service, and in that of the Hon. East India Company; 
 with Notices of the Military Colleges, Hospitals, &c; 
 By J. H. Stocqueler. 8vo, 151. cloth extra. 
 
 " In writing this book Mr. Stocqueler has performed an acceptable service 
 to the military profession. The style is clear, vigorous, and precise ; and the 
 arrangement perspicuous and systematic. The book has also a value to non- 
 professional readers." — Athenaum. 
 
 SCRIVENOR'S ACCOUNT of the RAILWAYS 
 of the UNITED KINGDOxM. 8vo, 1/. i*. cloth. 
 
 " A work embracing the entire statistics, so far as they can be gathered 
 from authentic documents, of the railways of the United Kingdom. The 
 financial history of each company, and its dependencies, is detailed in a well- 
 arranged form, together with their present position, and every point of useful 
 official information." — Times. 
 
 A Supplement to the above work, 8vo, uniform with 
 the volume, js. cloth. 
 
 PIDDINGTON'S SAILOR'S HORN-BOOK OF 
 STORMS. Second Edition, 8vo, ior. 6^/., with 
 Charts and Storm-Cards. 
 
 " A valuable practical work." — Nautical Magazine. 
 
 HUGHES on the DUTIES OF JUDGE ADVO- 
 CATES. Post 8vo, ys. cloth. 
 
 KENTFIELD ON BILLIARDS. Fourth Edition, 
 small folio, with 93 Diagrams, 1/. us. 6d. cloth.
 
 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 Ellustrntcfc Scientific OTorfcs. 
 
 Sir J. HERSCHEL'S ASTRONOMICAL OBSER- 
 VATIONS, made during the Years 1834-5-6-7-8, 
 at the Cape of Good Hope ; being the completion of 
 a Telescopic Survey of the whole Surface of the visible 
 Heavens, commenced in 1825. Royal 4-to, with 18 
 Plates, 4/. 4*. 
 
 Published ivitb the approval of the Lords Commissioners of Her Majesty's 
 treasury. 
 
 DARWIN'S GEOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS; 
 
 made during the Voyage of H. M. S. Beagle. 
 
 Part I. — On Coral Formations. 
 
 II. — On the Volcanic Islands of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. 
 III. — On the Geology of South America. 
 
 The Three Parts in 1 vol. 8vo, with Maps, Plates, and 
 Woodcuts, ioj. bd. cloth. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS of the BOTANY OF THE 
 HIMALAYA MOUNTAINS, and of the Flora 
 of Cashmere. 
 
 By J. Forbes Royle, M.D., V.P.R.S., F.L.S. h G.S., 
 M.R.A.S., 
 
 Professor of Materia Medica and Therapeutics, King's College. 
 
 2 vols. imp. 410, with 100 Coloured Plates, 5/. 55. cloth. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE ZOOLOGY OF 
 SOUTH AFRICA. By Dr. Andrew Smith. 
 
 Complete in 28 royal 4to Parts, comprising 277 Plates of Quadrupeds, Birds, 
 Reptiles, Fish, and Insects, drawn on Stone by Mr. G. H. Ford, and nearly 
 all beautifully coloured from Nature ; with Descriptions of about 6co Species. 
 
 Price 18/. bound in Five Quarto Volumes, cloth lettered. 
 
 Each division of the work may be purchased separately, bound in cloth, 
 lettered, at the following proportionate prices, viz. : — 
 
 Mammalia 50 Plates £*$ o o 
 Aves . . j 14 „ 700 
 
 Reptilia . 78 „ 500 
 
 Pisces . - . 31 Plates ,£200 
 Invertebrate ...100
 
 p 
 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO. 13 
 
 ©rttntal anfc Colonial 
 
 ON THE CULTURE AND COMMERCE OF 
 COTTON IN INDIA AND ELSEWHERE; 
 with an Account of the Experiments made by the 
 Hon. East India Company up to the present time. 
 
 By J. Forbes Royle, M.D., F.R.S. 
 
 Late Superintendent of the Hon. E. I. Co.'s Botanic Gardens at Saharunpore, 
 Professor of Materia Medica and Therapeutics in King's College, London. 
 
 8vo, iSs. cloth. 
 
 THE MOOHUMMUDAN LAW OF SALE. Se- 
 lected from the Digest of the Emperor Aurungzebe, 
 and Translated from the original Arabic ; with an 
 Introduction and Explanatory Notes. 
 
 By Neil B. E. Baillie, 
 
 Author of " The Moohummudan Law of Inheritance." 
 
 8vo, 14^. cloth. 
 
 " A valuable addition to juridical and even to general literature. It is the 
 best specimen of a really good Mahommedan law book that has yet been 
 published . " — Spectator. 
 
 WRAY'S PRACTICAL SUGAR-PLANTER. 8vo, 
 with numerous Illustrations, 1/. is. 
 
 " * The Practical Sugar-Planter is a most useful book, containing more 
 condensed and solid general information than we have ever before found col- 
 lected on the subject of which it treats. To the actual planter it will be found 
 a most valuable work." — Colonial Magazine. 
 
 " Mr. Wray's work is of commanding interest. It is full of practical details, 
 and will be an excellent guide to planters." — Economist. 
 
 COOPER'S INVALID'S GUIDE TO MADEIRA. 
 
 Fcap. 8vo, 45. cloth gilt. 
 
 " A work which may be consulted with advantage." — Sir James Clarke on 
 Climate. 
 
 ROYLE'S PRODUCTIVE RESOURCES OF 
 INDIA. Royal 8vo, \\s. cloth. 
 
 PORTER ON THE SUGAR-CANE. New Edit., 
 revised, with Plates, demy 8vo, 12s. cloth.
 
 14 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 3Etmcattonal 
 
 WORKS ON ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE. 
 By B. Thorpe, Esq. 
 
 I.—ANALECTA ANGLO-SAXONICA. Post 8vo, 125. cloth. 
 IL— ANGLO-SAXON VERSION of APOLLONIUS OF TYRE. Post 
 
 8vo, 6s. 
 III.— RASK'S GRAMMAR of the ANGLO-SAXON TONGUE. 8vo, 12s. 
 
 EDUCATION AS A MEANS OF PREVENT- 
 ING DESTITUTION. Prefaced by a Letter 
 to the Right Hon. Lord John Russell, M.P. 
 By William Ellis, Author of the " Outlines of 
 Social Economy." Post 8vo, 4*. cloth. 
 
 ELEMENTARY WORKS on SOCIAL SCIENCE. 
 Uniform in fcap. 8vo, half-bound. 
 
 I.— PROGRESSIVE LESSONS IN SOCIAL SCIENCE, is. 6d. 
 
 II.— INTRODUCTION TO THE SOCIAL SCIENCES, zs. 
 III.— OUTLINES OF SOCIAL ECONOMY, is. 6d. 
 IV.— QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS on the Arrangements and Rela- 
 tions or Social Life. zs. 6d. 
 
 V.— OUTLINES OF THE UNDERSTANDING, zs. 
 
 " The author of these various manuals of the social sciences has the art of 
 stating clearly the abstruse points of political economy and metaphysics, and 
 making them level to every understanding." — Economist. 
 
 PARENTS' CABINET of Amusement and In- 
 struction. 6 vols. is. 6d. each. Each volume is 
 complete in itself, and may be had separately. 
 
 " This little work contains just that description of reading which will be 
 beneficial to young children." — Quarterly Journal of Education. 
 
 LITTLE STORIES from the Parlour Printing 
 Press. By the Author of the " Parents' Cabinet." 
 
 " A very nice little book for children." — Weekly Chronicle.
 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO. 15 
 
 Helttfotts. 
 
 THE NOVITIATE; or, The Jesuit in Training: 
 
 being a Year among the English Jesuits. By An- 
 drew Steinmetz. Third Edition, with Memoir 
 and Portrait, post 8vo, 6*. cloth. 
 
 " This is a remarkable book. It describes with a welcome minuteness, the 
 daily, nightly, hourly occupations of the Jesuit Novitiates at Stonyhurst, their 
 religious exercises and manners, in private and together ; and depicts, with con- 
 siderable acuteness and power, the conflicts of an intelligent, susceptible, honest- 
 purposed spirit, while passing through such a process." — British Quarterly 
 Review. 
 
 " If it be desirable to know what is that mode of training by which the 
 Jesuit system prepares its novices for their duties, this is the book to inform us, 
 for it is a chronicle of actual experience." — Britannia. 
 
 TESTIMONY TO THE TRUTH ; or, The 
 
 Autobiography of a converted Atheist. 
 Third Edition, fcap. 8vo, \s. 6d. cloth. 
 
 " A very interesting account of the experiences of an intelligent and sincere 
 mind on the subject of religion. We can honestly recommend the book to 
 the notice of our readers." — Eclectic Review. 
 
 " The work, we trust, will obtain a wide circulation, especially amongst 
 classes exposed to the contagion of sceptical association. Even to firm be- 
 lievers it is calculated to be very profitable." — Evangelical Magazine. 
 
 " The history of the conversion of an individual mind has never been more 
 minutely traced ; the psychological phenomena revealed have never been more 
 curious and suggestive $ and the incidents have never been described with 
 more minute fidelity." — Atlas. 
 
 THE RECTORY OF VALEHEAD. By the Rev. 
 Robert Wilson Evans. Fourteenth Edition, 5*. 
 cloth. 
 
 " Universally and cordially do we recommend this delightful volume. We 
 believe no person could read this work, and not be the better for its pious and 
 touching lessons." — Literary Gazette. 
 
 RECORDS OF A GOOD MAN'S LIFE. By the 
 Rev. Charles B. Tayler. Ninth Edition, fcap. 
 8vo, 6s. cloth. 
 
 #
 
 & 
 
 l6 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY SMITH, ELDER AND CO. 
 
 THE CALCUTTA REVIEW. Published Quarterly, 
 and received regularly by the Overland Mail. Nos. 
 I. to XXX., 6s. each. 
 
 The articles, written by gentlemen long resident in India, connected with 
 the Civil and Military services, the Missionary establishments, the Bar, the 
 Church, Commerce, the Press, &c, contain, in a condensed form, an immense 
 mass of information relating to the contemporary History and Biography of 
 India, Eastern Ethnography, Philology, Topography, Statistics, Science, Litera- 
 ture, Missionary labours, Society, Manners and Customs, and a large body of 
 original intelligence of the most authentic character. 
 
 BOOKS FOR THE USE OF THE BLIND, 
 
 Printed with a very distinct Raised Roman Letter, adapted to their Touch. 
 The Holy Bible, in 15 vols. 4-to, bound. Any volume separately: 
 
 Vol. £ s. d. 
 
 1. Genesis o 10 o 
 
 2. Exodus and Leviticus . . o 13 o 
 
 3. Numbers o 9 o 
 
 4. Deuteronomy o 7 6 
 
 5. Joshua, Judges, and Ruth o 10 o 
 
 6. Samuel o 11 o 
 
 7. Kings o u o 
 
 8. Chronicles on o 
 
 9. Job, Ezra, and Nehemiah 090 
 
 The New Testament, complete, 4 vols, bound 
 The Four Gospels, separately : — 
 
 Matthew o 5 6j Acts of the Apostles o 5 
 
 Mark o 4 o Epistles to the Ephesians and- 
 
 Luke o 5 6 Galatians o 4 
 
 John o 4 6 J Epistle to the Romans o 4 
 
 Vol. £ s. d. 
 
 10. Psalms o 13 o 
 
 11. Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, 
 Song of Solomon, and 
 Esther o 8 6 
 
 12. Isaiah o 10 o 
 
 13. Jeremiah and Lamen- 
 tations o 11 o 
 
 14. Ezekiel o 10 o 
 
 15. Daniel, to the end ... . on o 
 
 £200 
 
 ChurchofEnglandCatechism o I o 
 Church of Scotland Shorter 
 
 Catechism o 2 6 
 
 Selections from Eminent 
 
 Authors o I 6 
 
 Selections of Sacred Poetry, 
 
 with Tunes o 1 o 
 
 Arithmetical Boards o 10 6 
 
 M: p of England and Wales 020 
 
 Ruth and James o 2 6 
 
 Report and Statement of 
 
 Education o 2 o 
 
 First and Second Book of 
 
 Lessons o I 6 
 
 A Selection of /Esop's Fa- 
 bles, with Woodcuts. . . . o 2 o 
 Psalms and Paraphrases, 2 
 
 vols (Scotch version) . . o 16 O 
 
 Lessons on Natural Religion o 
 Psalms and Hymns (English 
 
 version) o 
 
 Morning & Evening Services o 
 
 History of the Bible o 
 
 Musical Catechism, with 
 
 Tunes o 
 
 English Grammar o 
 
 Tod's Lectures, vols. 1, 2, 
 
 and 3, each o 
 
 Description of London, by 
 
 Chambers o 
 
 Meditationson the Sacrament o 
 
 Scottish Songs o 
 
 Introduction to Astronomy o 
 
 Alphabet, on Card o 
 
 Types for Writing . . per 
 
 Alphabet .1 . o 
 
 LONDON : PBINTKD BY STEWART AND MUKBAI, OLD BAILEY.
 
 UNIVER9ITY OF ILLINOI9-URBANA 
 
 3 0112 052951982