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 /6-^ 
 
 GRANBY. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOLUME L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 1826.
 
 "^ <.3 
 
 
 V.I 
 
 SRACKRLli, ARIlOWSMITa& HODBES, JOirNSON'fi-COLRT, FLKKT-STREKT,
 
 GRANBY. 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Wondrous it is to see in diverse mindcs 
 How diversly love doth his pageants play, 
 
 And shews his power in variable kindes : 
 The baser wit whose idle thoughts alway 
 Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay, j 
 
 It stlrreth up to sensual desire, 
 And in lewd slothe to waste the careless day ; 
 
 But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire, 
 
 That to all high desert and honour doth aspire. 
 
 SPENSEn. 
 
 At the close of a dull cold day, in the month 
 of November, 182 — , General Granby and his 
 nephew were (to use a word strictly national), 
 '' comfortably'"* established in a small plainly 
 furnished dining-room, well warmed and cheer- 
 fully lighted, at a table furnished with plates 
 and glasses, two half-filled decanters, and the 
 remnants of a small dessert. 
 
 VOL. I. s 
 
 4. 
 
 1 X& C 4 1
 
 35 GEANBY. 
 
 At the moment which we have chosen for in- 
 truding upon their privacy, the tete-a-tete wore 
 no very promising aspect. The General, a 
 mild and pleasing, but withered and infirm old 
 man, whose face and figure showed signs of his 
 having suffered from the fatigues of service and 
 the vicissitudes of climate, was propped in an 
 easy chair, regaling himself, with much delibera- 
 tion, from a veteran snuff-box, and regarding, 
 with an air of grave inquiry, his nephew, a 
 handsome and intelligent-looking young man, 
 of about two-and-twenty, who was cracking his 
 last walnut with more seriousness than the 
 operation seemed to warrant. This done, the 
 latter was sinking into a state of deep ab- 
 straction, when the General, who had replaced 
 his snuff-box, and, consequently, began to feel 
 more -acutely the want of a cheerful companion, 
 broke abruptly upon his reverie. 
 
 " Come, Harry, pass the wine, — you can do 
 that at least, if you can't talk. Here's to our 
 absent friends, '' said he, nodding to his ne-
 
 GEAXBY. 
 
 phew, as he filled his glass ; "I reckon you 
 amongst the number." 
 
 *' Sir?" said the nephew starting, " I beg your 
 pardon — what were you saying ? " 
 
 '' Wny, nothing worth repeating, luckily, for 
 it seems if I had you would not have heard it. 
 Come, man, don't go to sleep, or if you are 
 thinking, tell us what it's all about." 
 
 His nephew smiled, raised his eyebrows, and 
 shook his head, as if he would fain have inti- 
 mated that his thoughts were neither conununi- 
 cable, nor worth communicating. 
 
 " Oh, come, don't shake your head," said the 
 General, '• you know I never understand that ; 
 unless," he added, with a happy after thought, 
 " you mean to indicate that there's nothing in 
 it;" and the good man chuckled at his joke with 
 as much glee as if it had been a new one, while 
 his nephew chimed in with a short laugh of 
 civility. 
 
 A pause ensued. The General's attack had 
 been ill-concerted. Jokes are unfavourable to 
 B 2
 
 5) GRANBY. 
 
 the flow of conversation, when both parties are 
 not equally disposed to be facetious. In such 
 cases, the lesser wit, instead of replying to the 
 pleasantness of the greater, employs the succe- 
 daneum of a laugh. And so it was in this in- 
 stance : Henry Granby having contributed his 
 laugh, was inclined to think that this was 
 enough, and, accordingly relapsed into his for- 
 mer silence. The General hemmed — looked at 
 his nephew — at the candles, and at the fire, and 
 saw, to his sorrow, that they stood in need nei- 
 ther of snuffing nor poking, drank off his wine, 
 took out his snufF-box, drummed awhile upon 
 the lid, and then commenced again in a lower 
 key, with "Harry, are you tired after your 
 journey ? "''* 
 
 " No, Sir, I thank you, not at all." 
 '' Then my good fellow, if you are not, what 
 makes you so silent ? Here have you been 
 away these three weeks, among old friends of 
 mine, and have nothing to say about them now 
 you are come back. You never used to be so
 
 GRAXBY 
 
 chary of your information. You were always 
 very communicative, and told me how they 
 were, and,^ what they did, and what they said, 
 and all about them. How did you leave them 
 all at Brackingsley ? '^ 
 
 " All well— ^uite well, Sir." 
 " Did they send any message to me ? '^ 
 " Their kind regards, Sir, nothing more." 
 "And what is my old friend Sir Thomas 
 doing ? He is just the same I''ll be bound — busy 
 as ever, eh? bustle, bustle, all day long, and 
 thinks he's of all the use in the world to 
 everybody. He is never so happy as when he 
 can tell you he is hurried to death, and could 
 not get a quiet moment if he would give his 
 life for it" 
 
 " Just the same. Sir ; you describe him ex- 
 actly." 
 
 " Aye, I understand him pretty well; and so 
 I ought, for I have known him almost from a 
 boy. And who had you there all the time ? " 
 ^' A good many people coming and going,
 
 b GRANBY. 
 
 Sir — the Charltons, the Beaumonts, the Cleavers, 
 and there were two or three odd, vulgar-looking 
 persons, who came one day — constituents of Sir 
 Thomas's, I beUeve.*" 
 
 " Well, and how were Lady Jermyn and my 
 god-daughter Caroline ? Is she a handsome 
 girl ?" 
 
 " I should think she would generally be con- 
 sidered so." 
 
 " Generally considered ? humph ! and pray 
 do you consider her so ?" 
 
 '' Yes, Sir, I meant to include myself," said 
 the nephew, with a slight accession of colour as 
 he spoke. 
 
 " She has a right to be handsome," said the 
 General. " Lady Jermyn was a fine looking 
 girl some thirty years ago, and Sir Thomas 
 was a well-favoured fellow in his time. He''s 
 an old friend of mine, and a good friend of 
 your's too. I think you were always a favourite.*' 
 
 " Perhaps I was," observed Henry, in rather 
 a grave and sorrowful tone.
 
 GBANBY. i 
 
 " Was ? yes, and are now." 
 
 " Am I ?" said the nephew doubtingly. 
 
 *' Are you ? yes, to be sure you are. Have 
 not they always sho^rVTi it ? I'm sure they 
 have been remarkably civil to you, and I don't 
 see why you should think the contrary. How 
 have they offended you .''" 
 
 " I have nothing particularly to complain of 3"" 
 said the nephew ; " but to tell you the truth, 
 I did think, this last time, that I perceived a 
 considerable alteration in their belia^-iour to- 
 wards me. It was not uncivil — nay, it was 
 quite as civil as ever — perhaps more so — but it 
 was unpleasantly altered — it was formal — it was 
 cold" 
 
 « Cold ! fiddlestick ! all fancy, 1^11 be bound 
 — Why should they be cold .^"^ 
 
 " That I do not know, Sir ; but it certainly 
 was so/' 
 
 " Pshaw ] nonsense ! I cannot believe it — 
 besides, if their manner was altered, you ought 
 to remember that you are not a boy now, and
 
 8 GRANBY. 
 
 cannot expect to be treated in the same uncere- 
 monious style as when you used to go to them 
 in town from Westaiinster on a Saturday." 
 
 " No, Sir, that I don't expect — I make all 
 those allowances."" 
 
 *' But you don*t make allowances enough, 
 my good fellow. Besides, you say that they 
 are as civil as ever, and perhaps more so. 
 Why, then, what would you have? I'll be 
 bound they are only making what they think a 
 proper distinction between the boy and the 
 man." 
 
 ^' It is possible, Sir," said the nephew, in a 
 tone wliich showed that he barely admitted the 
 possibility, but was glad at any rate to dismiss 
 the subject. 
 
 A silence ensued, which was first broken by 
 the General. 
 
 " I am very glad, Harry, that you stopped a 
 day or two at Lord Malton's in your way back, 
 and that I wrote to tell him you would do so. 
 Considering our near relationship — considering
 
 GEAKBY. U 
 
 that his father and mine were brothers, I think 
 it right that you should see a little more of him 
 and your cousin T3rrrel than you have hitherto. 
 You cannot now plead either school or college, 
 and you have no profession to take up your 
 time. Besides, I think people would begin to 
 notice your very slight acquaintance with your 
 nearest relations ; and they might suspect that 
 there was some coolness between us ; which yo\i 
 know, Harry, is not the case," 
 
 " Certainly, Sir; and to tell you the truth, I 
 have often thought it strange that so little com- 
 munication should ever have taken place between 
 ourselves and Lord Malton, though no unkind- 
 ness appeared to exist, and he was always very 
 ready to do what you asked him. I have fre- 
 quently turned it in my mind; but as it was a 
 delicate subject, I never liked to mention all I 
 thought. Since my late visit, too, I can less 
 account for his conduct than before, from his 
 pointed inquiries after you, and very kind at- 
 tention to myself. It is certainly singular that 
 b3
 
 10 GRANBY. 
 
 I should never have been at Tedworth till the 
 other day ; and Lord Malton does not seem a 
 retired man, but I should think, on the contrary, 
 rather given to hospitality." 
 
 " You are very right, so he is ; I am glad to 
 see that he has made a favourable impression." 
 
 " Yes, Sir, in some respects he has. He 
 showed no want of disposition to treat me with 
 the kindness of a relation, and if he failed in 
 making me quite like him, it is perhaps more my 
 fault than his. I should think he was a man of 
 variable spirits, and rather peculiar temper. He 
 often began to talk to me cheerfully, when a 
 sudden cloud would seem to pass over him, and 
 all would be gloom and formality in an instant ; 
 but these fits were only momentary — he always 
 rallied again directly." 
 
 '^ He is a peculiar man," said the General, 
 after a short pause ; '' but he has good points 
 about him. He is rather reserved — it is a family 
 failing. His father, the first Lord, had a great 
 deal of reserve, and pride too."
 
 GBANBY. 11 
 
 *' If his was pride of family/' said the ne- 
 phew, " it must, I imagine, have cost him a 
 pang to change his name from Granby to 
 Tyrrel." 
 
 " I have no doubt it did; although your 
 great uncle would never have got his title, if it 
 had not been for the fortune which old Tyrrel left 
 him. But he plainly showed his love of his 
 old family name, by the way in which he con- 
 trived that the peerage should descend. He 
 certainly had an eye to the possibility of its 
 being held some time or other by a Granby. 
 There is a remainder, you know, as I have told 
 you before, to the male representative of the 
 younger branch, and that is yourself." 
 
 " It is never Kkely to do me any good. Sir," 
 said the nephew ; "there is Mr. Tyrrel — I dare 
 say he will marry — I wonder he has not already. 
 Besides, I should not like to profit by the loss 
 of a relation."" 
 
 The General returned no answer and re-
 
 12 GRANBY. 
 
 mained for a few minutes lost in thought. 
 '^ How do like your cousin Tyrrel ?" said he 
 at length ; " you never saw him before, I 
 think." 
 
 *' Never ; — and it was by accident that I 
 saw him then. He came home unexpectedly, 
 a few hours after I reached Tedworth, and as 
 it appears, did not know that I was to be 
 there. He seemed surprised, I thought, and 
 hardly pleased, when first I was introduced to 
 him. His manner struck me very much — it 
 was very odd — I can scarcely describe it. He 
 hardly spoke three words to me all the first 
 evening, and resisted every attempt on my part 
 to become acquainted with him. However, the 
 next day he was quite another person. Nothing 
 could be more kind, frank, and cordial. I like 
 him extremely. You cannot think. Sir, how 
 friendly he was." 
 
 '' It does him credit," said the General, in 
 a low serious tone. His nephew assented, but
 
 GRANBY. 13 
 
 with a look of slight surprise at this marked 
 commendation of conduct, which appeared to 
 him so natural and proper. 
 
 " He is no longer in the army, I believe," 
 said the General, rousing himself from a short 
 lethargy. 
 
 " No, he has just quitted the Guards, and 
 does not, I believe, intend to enter any other 
 regiment."" Then, after a short pause, with some 
 hesitation and timidity of manner, he proceeded : 
 " Excuse what I am going to say, sir, for I am 
 sure you have always acted from the kindest 
 intentions in bringing me up without any pro- 
 fession; but considering the smallness of my 
 means, the desirableness of employment, and the 
 impossibility otherwise of getting on in the world, 
 if you do not dishke it, sir, I should wish to do 
 something for myself.'' 
 
 The General stared at the request, looked 
 uneasy, and remained for some time silent. 
 " Ay, ay, Harry,'' said he, at length, with a 
 sigh, " I ought to be sensible that a poor old
 
 14 eUAKBY. 
 
 broken-down fellow, like me, is but indifferent 
 company for a young one like yourself. You 
 lead a moping life here, I know; and though 
 you do go out among friends at a distance, you 
 are only more sensible, on your return, of the 
 duhiess of home. If an old uncle is too stupid 
 to live with, God forbid that I should, for my 
 own sake, try to detain you V 
 
 " My dear sir,'' said the nephew, with great 
 earnestness, ''you must not so misunderstand 
 me. It hurts me to be thought capable of such 
 a meaning. I cannot forget my great and deep 
 obligations to you, and your many kindnesses, 
 and constant indulgence. I must always re- 
 member that you have been a second father to 
 an orphan, and a protector to one who had none 
 else to look to. I should be acting most un- 
 worthily, if I had made this proposal under the 
 motives which you attribute to me. I hope you 
 cannot bear in mind your own great claims upon 
 me, and still think me capable of such ingrati- 
 tude."
 
 granby. 15 
 
 « Well, well, Harry, I don't— I don't. I 
 spoke fc^lishly. You never failed in gratitude 
 an instant in your life^-excuse my hastiness, and 
 forget it." 
 
 " How can I do otherwise .?" said the nephew, 
 with emotion. " I will say no more about a pro- 
 fession." 
 
 " Nay, nay,'^ interposed the General, " don't 
 let me stop your mouth. What profession is it 
 you fancy ?"" 
 
 " No one particulai'ly, sir ; I only wished not 
 to be quite idle." 
 
 " Oh ! then your plans are quite imformed. 
 So much the better. But let us see what there 
 is you can do. I do not like the army, though 
 it is my own profession : it is a riotous, squab- 
 bling, drinking life." 
 
 " Formerly, perhaps," said the nephew ; 
 *' but that description can hardly be applied to 
 it at the present day. The rare occurrence of 
 a duel proves that it is not a quarrelsome pro- 
 fession, and drinking is universally exploded.
 
 16 GEANBY. 
 
 I believe. Sir, you would find that a mess-table, 
 now, is quite as temperate as any other." 
 
 " So I have heard say ; but be that as it may, 
 we are at peace now, and likely to remain so — 
 therefore think no more of army or navy." 
 
 '^ Well, Sir ; then there is nothing left me 
 but church and law." 
 
 " No— and how are you to get on in either 
 of those ? You have no chance on earth of a 
 living ; and as for law — I don't mean to say that 
 you are not a sharp fellow, or that you cannot 
 stick to anything you have once taken in hand — 
 but it is idle talking about professions : let us 
 hear no more of them. You have done well 
 enough hitherto without a profession, and I 
 don't see why you should want one now. Be- 
 sides, I can't do without you, Harry — I can't, 
 indeed. You must not think of it. If I had 
 thought you would want a profession, I should 
 have brought you up to one ; but I never did, 
 and for good reasons best known to myself — so 
 there is an end of the matter."
 
 GEANBY. 17 
 
 Though Hem-y Granby internally smiled at 
 the weakness and vagueness of the arguments 
 (if we must so call them) which the worthy and 
 warm-hearted old man had brought forward in 
 support of his ^nshes, he felt too much respect 
 for those wishes, so strongly expressed, and there- 
 fore, evidently, so deeply felt, to offer any farther 
 remonstrance ; and magnanimously smothering 
 a sigh, he relinquished with quiet acquiescence 
 the project he had formed. After this, con- 
 versation was not resumed. The General, gra- 
 tified by his successful remonstrance, soon yielded 
 to the soothing influence of silence, an easy chair, 
 and the sober twilight of two unsnuffed candles, 
 and fell asleep ; while the nephew, after a long 
 but unsatisfactory reverie, endeavoured to con- 
 sole himself with the last number of the Quar- 
 terly Review.
 
 18 GRAKBY. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 C'est le sole d'un sot d'etre importun ; un habile Lomme sont s'i} 
 eonvient, ou s'il ennuie. 
 
 La Bruyere. 
 
 The grandfather of Henry Granby was the 
 younger brother of the first Lord Malton, who 
 obtained that title subsequent to his succession 
 to the property and name of Tyrrel. He pos- 
 sessed a fortune which, for a younger brother, 
 was considerable, and which he transmitted un- 
 diminished to his son, but unhappily without 
 communicating a sufficient portion of that pru- 
 dence by which he himself had preserved it. 
 Mr. Granby, the son, soon formed an alliance 
 which apparently did anything but discredit to
 
 GRANBY. 19 
 
 his taste and judgment, and on which his nearest 
 friends were loud in their congratulations, but 
 which was nevertheless the source of eventual 
 unhappiness. He married a woman of great 
 beauty, good temper, and considerable fortune, 
 but who combined with good temper a compliancy 
 amounting to weakness, and brought with her 
 fortune a disposition for expense, which the ex- 
 tent of that fortune could by no means gratify. 
 She died soon after giving birth to Henry ; but 
 not until she had greatly contributed to the de- 
 rangement of her husband's affairs. 
 
 Needy and dispirited, Mr. Granby lent too 
 willing an car to the suggestions of an insidious 
 speculator, and was induced by him to become 
 his partner, together with others, in a bank. 
 Always a man of pleasure, rather than of busi- 
 ness, he naturally became the dupe of his design- 
 ing associates. The bank failed, and he found 
 himself reduced to the verge of ruin. His health 
 and spirits sank under the blow, and he soon 
 afterwards died, leaving his son, with a very
 
 20 GEANBY. 
 
 small fortune, to the guardianship of his only 
 brother. General Granby. 
 
 This important trust was executed by that 
 worthy man, in a manner which did honour to 
 his heart. The profits of his profession, added 
 to a comfortable patrimony, had placed him in 
 easy circumstances ; and established in a small 
 and quiet country residence, near the village of 
 Ashton, he liberally shared with his nephew that 
 little fortune of which he destined him to be the 
 heir. He spared no expense in his education, 
 and imposed few restrictions upon his pleasures. 
 His liberality was even carried to an extent which 
 gave occasional surprise to his more prudent 
 neighbours ; and his resolute refusal to bring up 
 his nephew to any profession, was confidently 
 pronounced by more than one to be the best 
 and surest way to ruin him. Those who will 
 not go all lengths with these zealous prognosti- 
 cators of evil, will still be agreed upon the impo- 
 licy of his system. The General himself had 
 but a scanty store of cogent reasons; and the
 
 expression of his sentiments might generally be 
 comprised in that royal sentence, " iel est noire 
 plamr ;"" the only argument which never fails 
 to silence a debate. 
 
 Still, strange as it may appear, in spite of the 
 ill-judged indulgence of the uncle, and the charms 
 of idleness, and in defiance of the presages of 
 croaking friends, the young man was so little 
 corrupted, even at the age of two and twenty, 
 as to offer a sincere, though feeble remonstrance, 
 to any further continuance in a life of inactivity. 
 The feebleness of that remonstrance arose in 
 some degeee from his scrupulous fear of avowing 
 the motives by which he was led to it ; and as 
 he was silent on that point, we must tell them 
 for him. 
 
 He had from early boyhood been accustomed 
 to spend a small portion of «^ry year in the 
 house of Sir Thomas Jermyi^nd had always 
 been the object of his pecuhar favour. There 
 were many reasons for this ; Sir Thomas's old 
 friendship with his father ; his having no son of
 
 22 GRANBY. 
 
 his own ; the lively spirits and engaging man- 
 ners of the boy ; and perhaps, (for he was of 
 a good family), his being in some degree, though 
 distantly, related. He was also his godson ; a 
 feeble tie, but an useful motive, which persons 
 sometimes like to assign, for a partiality for which 
 they cannot in any other way so briefly account. 
 Be this as it may, thus much is certain, — that he 
 was a great favourite, and a frequent visitor. 
 
 Sir Thomas and Lady Jermyn had an only 
 daughter, about four years Henry'*s junior, and 
 for whom he had always professed to feel a most 
 brotherly regard. But "brotherly regards" are 
 feelings which are rarely fated to maintain their 
 existence out of that narrow pale of close rela- 
 tionship to which they properly belong. Even 
 between first cousins they will sometimes melt 
 into a tenderer species of affection ; and as the 
 lelationship becomes more distant, nothing short 
 of mutual repulsiveness will preserve their re- 
 spective feelings in that sober state of chastened 
 communion. It was not, therefore, probable that
 
 GRAXBY. i>3 
 
 two young persons, amply endued with many 
 loveable qualities, should afford an exception to 
 the above-mentioned rule ; and accordingly, 
 they had by this time begun to entertain pre- 
 cisely those sentiments which were most natural 
 to their relative situations. 
 
 But whatever they thought on this point, they 
 kept very prudently to themselves. This was 
 most commendable in the gentleman ; for he was 
 far the more enL'ghtened of the two, as to the 
 real nature of his feelings. He could not, how- 
 ever, refrain from betraying them a little before 
 his last departure, by asking and obtaining a 
 lock of the lady's hair, which he volunteered 
 a promise never to shew to any human being ; 
 intimating also that he would write to inform 
 her of his safe arrival at home. He felt, how- 
 ever, and keenly felt, that the inequality of 
 their fortunes would render presumptuous his 
 addresses, and that the heiress of Brackingsley 
 might aspire to an alliance much higher than 
 he could offer. As he viewed the insignifi-
 
 24 GRAXBY. 
 
 cance of his means, his mind also dwelt on 
 the apparent hopelessness of their improve- 
 ment, and he bitterly regretted the inglorious 
 inactivity to which he had been doomed. He 
 trusted, however, that this evil was not without 
 a remedy. Distinction was the sure reward of 
 merit and exertion, in any profession ; and they 
 were all open to his choice. He was young ; 
 quite young enough to succeed in any of them. 
 In short, he was determined somehow or other to 
 make a figure ; and visions of glory, and of Caro- 
 line Jermyn, were brightly pictured in his warm 
 imagination ; Caroline's form being clearly trace- 
 able — the rest being grand, but rather indistinct 
 AVith a mind full of these interesting topics, 
 he rode out in the morning, at the request of 
 the General, to call on a friend, and having suc- 
 ceeded much to his satisfaction in finding him 
 not at home, was agreeably resuming the thread 
 of his meditations, when he heard with horror, 
 at a short distance behind him, the loud greeting 
 of Mr. Edwards. This unwelcome companion
 
 GllAXBY. 25 
 
 was a gentleman of moderate independent proper- 
 ty, who was called "the Squire,"' par excellence, 
 by his own parishioners, but who, had he lived 
 in Ireland, which is richer in distinctions, 
 might have come under the denomination of a 
 " squireen.'" He was a good humoured, trou- 
 blesome, neighbourly man ; a perfect burr to a 
 chance companion, and for loudness and length- 
 iness, the most powerful talker in his district. 
 He came trotting after Granby, gaining upon 
 him rapidly, and repeating in stout hearty tones 
 as he rose in his stirrups, "' Well met, Mr. 
 Granby — well met — vrell overtaken, I ought to 
 say. I am glad to see you once more. I did 
 not know you were come back. So when I saw 
 you just this minute, thinks I, that looks like — 
 no it can't be — yes, it is though — but I was not 
 sure till I came quite close ; so I hope you will 
 excuse my not having called, for I give vou my 
 honour I did not know you were in the country', 
 or I should have made a point of it."' 
 
 " Pray do not apologise," said Henry. *' I 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 GRAXBY. 
 
 returned only yesterday, and as I knew that 
 you were in the country, I suppose I ought 
 to have called first.*" 
 
 *' Oh, I beg you would not mention it. 
 Well, and how is the General ? Better, I 
 suppose — I am glad to hear it. Tell him 
 not to stir out. The wind is in the east, 
 and will be so until the moon changes. Mind 
 if it is not. Bitter cold, is not it ? Ah, you 
 are looking at me riding without a great coat. 
 It is not very prudent, to be sure, but I'll 
 just tell you how that happens. You. see, I 
 have two great coats at home, and neither of 
 them the right thing ; one is a thick box coat, 
 and the other a mere frock, thin and short ; 
 terribly short. Tom Davis is always at me 
 about that coat — but I tell him, that short as 
 it is, it will be long enough before I have 
 another. That is the way I answer him."" 
 (Granby good humouredly tried to laugh.) 
 " But, it is cold," said Mr. Edwards, button- 
 ing his coat still higher. " I might have put
 
 GEANBY. S7 
 
 it on to-day — but we should not complain, for 
 it is very seasonable ; and Christmas will be com- 
 ing soon ; and we are not far from the shortest 
 day, and it is excellent weather for farmers, as 
 I have just been telling a tenant of mine. 
 Things are looking up wonderfully, — turnips 
 especially ; and by the bye, talking of turnips, 
 how many birds do you think I killed the other 
 day in my Swedes ? Four brace and a half. No 
 bad sport so late in the season. I never knew 
 a better year for birds in my life— coveys 
 uncommonly large and strong; I saw two of 
 fourteen, and one of sixteen, or thereabouts, 
 as near as I can guess; but I wont pretend to 
 be exact to a pair or two, but I think the 
 largest had sixteen, for I said to Tom Da\as, 
 (he was with me), says I, ' Da\as, I'll lay 
 any money,' says I, ' there's sixteen birds in 
 that covey.' ' Why yes,' says he, ' I should 
 think there might, as near as I can guess,' he 
 said. But I have been out of luck of late, 
 for I have lost my best dog, a liver and white
 
 28 GRANBY. 
 
 one — you must know him — you have seen him 
 out with me — well, I ve lost him, and TU tell 
 you how it was." And he told it, and then 
 passed on to the state of the roads — new gra- 
 vel — parish rates — appointment of a sexton — 
 robbery of his poultry yard — commitment of a 
 vagrant — suspected poachers— loss of a shoe in 
 yesterday'*s ride — and the history of two blank 
 days with the fox hounds.'' 
 
 Henry Granby had one property, which was 
 eminently serviceable at this crisis ; he was a 
 good listener ; and however unskilled in the 
 arts of " seeming wise" where he was not, at 
 least possessed the inferior faculty of seeming 
 attentive. The General's " prose," (for that 
 worthv man, like Moliere's " Bourgeois Gentil- 
 homme," uttered a good deal without knowing 
 it), had greatly contributed to what physiolo- 
 gists would call the " development of this 
 faculty ;"* and this was heightened by the occa- 
 sional aid of rencontres like the present. 
 
 Thus gifted, our hero, without quitting his own
 
 GRANBY. g9 
 
 bright day-dreams, or suffering them to clash 
 with the anti-romantic topics of his companion, 
 mechanically but dextrously threw in his " in- 
 deed ! — yes — ah ! — no doubt — you don't say so ! 
 — really ! — certainly — of course,'^ — in a tone so 
 well suited to that of the narrator, that this 
 communicative person was perfectly satisfied, 
 and parted from our hero with the full convic- 
 tion that he was a very agreeable, well informed, 
 sensible young fellow. 
 
 On reaching home, Henry proceeded to em- 
 body the fruit of liis long, though broken 
 cogitations, in a letter to Caroline Jermyn. 
 
 He first opened a pocket-book, and took out 
 of it, carefully folded up in silver paper, a 
 small glossy lock of dark hair, upon which, 
 with his head resting upon his hand, he seemed 
 to ruminate as intensely, as if he were trying to 
 conjure up the actual presence of the donor. 
 
 After adjusting pen, ink, and paper; after 
 frequent startings up, and two or three turns 
 round the table; after splitting the pen he had
 
 30 GRANBY. 
 
 just mended, and attempting to re-mend it with 
 the back of his pen-knife ; after such, and 
 sundry other delays, he wrote, sealed, and 
 directed a tolerably long letter to Miss Jermyn. 
 We shall not abuse our privileges (which are 
 great) so far as to disclose verbatim the con- 
 tents of this epistle. We shall only premise 
 that it was not a proposal of marriage, or even 
 a declaration of love ; that it contained no ex- 
 pression warmer than " regard ;" that it began 
 with " Dear Cousin," (for they were cousins, 
 though distant ones) and ended with " Very 
 truly yours, H. Granby;*" that it was not 
 crossed, (lady correspondents will understand 
 this term), nor even closely filled three sides ; 
 that it had no postscript ; and that it described 
 common-place topics in a common-place manner. 
 It was, in short, (so at least the writer flattered 
 liimself,) as demure, cautious, and correct a 
 letter, as full of innocent nothings, and well 
 guarded dulness, as any foe to correspondents 
 ever dreaded to receive. It was, he thought.
 
 GEANBY. SI 
 
 admirably calculated for a safe introduction to 
 a long series of epistolary intercourse, for it 
 could give no offence to the lady, and excite no 
 alarm in the parents. Thus prudent was he 
 in the execution of a measure, of which impru- 
 dence was the primary feature. 
 
 The letter was sent, but by no secret messen- 
 ger, no hght-heeled, ready-witted page ; he had 
 }3ribed no Abigail, or trusty steward, to cram it 
 thi'ough a key-hole, or deliver it at mid-night. 
 He had read of such tilings in many romances ; 
 but he admired neither the principle nor the 
 practice. He therefore enclosed it to the Father, 
 put " Free, M. P." at the bottom of his direc- 
 tion, and dispatched it boldly by the post.
 
 32 GRANBY. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Such is'the weaknesse of all mortall hope : 
 So fickle is the state of earthly things. 
 
 That ere they come into their aimed seope 
 They fall so short of our frail reckonings. 
 And bring us bale and bitter sorrowings 
 
 Instead of comfort which we should embrace. 
 This is the state of Caesars and of kings. 
 
 Let none therefore that is in meaner place 
 
 Too greatly grieve at his unlucky case. 
 
 Spexseb. 
 
 Henry had now nothing to do but dwell 
 on the past, and live in daily hopes of a reply. 
 He was accordingly visited every day with a 
 great accession of restless anxiety about the 
 arrival of the post, which was even perceptible 
 to the eyes of the General. At length his hap- 
 piness and anxiety were at their height, at the 
 sight of a letter to himself, franked by Sir. T. 
 Jermyn. 
 
 " From Brackingsley, eh .^" said the General, 
 who saw it. " Come, don't march off with it—
 
 GRANBY. 33 
 
 open it here, can't you, and let us know how 
 they are, and all about them." 
 
 His nephew reluctantly obeyed.^ — " Well, 
 and which of them is it from ? And what does it 
 say ?" 
 
 Henry, who had by this time opened his let- 
 ter, stood aghast. 
 
 " Hey ! why ! what now ?" said the General. 
 " God bless my soul — I hope — No, it is a red 
 seal -nothing of that sort, thank Heaven. But 
 speak, can't you.^ What are'you alarmed about? ' 
 
 " It is inconceivable," said Henry, " I can- 
 not understand it." 
 
 " I am sure / cannot," said the General. 
 
 " There, there, Sir,"" said he, handing the 
 letter to his uncle. " Look — read — that she 
 should— oh! I can hardly believe it— but it is 
 too true."' 
 
 " W^hy ! what is all this ? I am more puzzled 
 than ever. Here is a letter from you, and not 
 to you.*" 
 
 " Yes, my own letter returned — without a 
 c3
 
 54 GRANBY. 
 
 line — without one word of explanation — yes," 
 said he, snatching up and examining the enve- 
 lope, *' actually without one word." 
 
 *' Oh, oh ! stay — I begin to understand. ' Dear 
 cousin,' humph! to Caroline, I. see: 'regret,' — 
 um (muttering the contents half aloud) — 'agree- 
 able circle,' — um, um — 'many happy days,' — 
 um-— ' near relations,' — um, um — ' seeing you 
 again,' — um, um — ' absence,' — um — ' our last 
 conversation,' — um^' best wishes always attend,' 
 — um, um, um — eh ! why, Harry, I'm still in 
 the dark — I don't understand why she should 
 send this letter back again." 
 
 " Nor I," said the other, faintly. 
 
 " It seems to me," said the General, " to be 
 a very correct, fair-spoken letter, with no offence 
 in it, that I can make out.*' 
 
 " Whatever it may contain. Sir, I am sure I 
 cannot conceive why it should be visited so 
 heavily." 
 
 " Nor I, Harry — nor I, for the life of me. 
 But, my good fellow, you have been very close
 
 GRANBY. 35 
 
 and secret in your proceedings. Why did you 
 not tell me you were going to write ? How did 
 you know that I had not some message to send 
 to Brackingsley ?"" 
 
 *' I wish I had told you, ^nth all my heart ; 
 indeed I bitterly regret that I wrote at all,"' 
 
 " Why, as it turas out, it seems that you had 
 better have let it alone. But what puzzles me 
 is, why they should send your letter back. Hey ! 
 no, by George ! but I think I understand them 
 — ay, and so it is, as sure as fate. I see what 
 they have got in their heads ; and a strange 
 idea it is too. They think you want to make 
 up to Caroline. What whims good people have 
 sometimes ! I can tell you this, Hany, for your 
 comfort, that I think they have used you very 
 ill." 
 
 " I certainly feel myself rather ill-used,'" 
 said Henry ; " but if they acted from the per- 
 suasion which you mention, I cannot conscien- 
 tiously say that they were altogether mis- 
 Uken." 
 
 >.*• 
 
 .A
 
 36 GEANBY. 
 
 " What, then you had some thoughts of put- 
 ting the question ?" said the General. 
 
 "I am obliged to confess, Sir, that I had my 
 hopes, my wishes, on that subject.*" 
 
 " Well said, my boy," replied his uncle, " a 
 very proper notion of yours ; and hang me if I 
 see the harm of it.'* 
 
 " But surel}^ Sir, with my limited means, it 
 would be the height of presumption to " 
 
 " Presumption ! stuff! don't talk to me of it. 
 I tell you again, you have been very ill used. 
 I know well enough what presumption is, and I 
 say you are a very good match for the girl.'' 
 
 " My dear Sir !" 
 
 " Why, you are not such a blockhead as to 
 wish to contradict me ! I say you are ; and I 
 ought to know. As for money, I have not much, 
 God knows, to leave you ; but if Sir Thomas 
 knew all— pshaw — (as if suddenly checking 
 himself) — I can tell Sir Thomas, I say, that 
 the nephew of a very old friend, like me, is 
 not to be treated in this sort of manner.
 
 GRAXBY 
 
 37 
 
 Push the ink-stand nearer this way — 1 11 tell 
 him my mind, I promise him." 
 
 " I hope you are not going to \nite/' said his 
 nephew, whose sense of his wrongs began to cool 
 in proportion to the rising warmth of the Gene- 
 ral; "I had rather you would let the subject 
 rest. Pray do not write to Sir Thomas 
 Jerm^Ti."''* 
 
 " Not write to him ! — Why not, I should be 
 glad to know? I knew him before you were 
 bom, and the devil's in it if I am not to write st 
 letter to him.'' 
 
 So saying, he seized pen and paper which lay 
 before him, and wrote as follows : — 
 
 " My Dear Sir Thomas. — A circum- 
 stance has just occurred* wliich appears to me to 
 want a little explanation ; and as we are very 
 old acquaintance, and have never stood much 
 upon ceremony, there can be as httle objection 
 to my asking it, as to your giving it. You 
 know the whole of the case beyond a doubt, but
 
 38 GRANBY. 
 
 it will be more satisfactory to state it again. The 
 long and the short of it seems to be this. My 
 nephew writes to your daughter a very sensible 
 inoffensive letter, with no harm in it that I can 
 see ; and in a few days it is sent back without a 
 single word to tell him why. Now you know 
 very well, that among gentlemen, to send back 
 a man"'s letter, is ahnost equivalent to knocking 
 him down ; and as nobody would think of sit- 
 ting down tamely under such an affront, so, I 
 think it proper on my nephew's account, more 
 particularly as you are an old acquaintance, to 
 desire an explanation of this affair. These are 
 all the observations I shall make for the present. 
 I have no doubt but that we perfectly under- 
 stand each other; and least said is soonest 
 mended. Trusting that everything will be easily 
 and speedily accounted for, and with best regards 
 to Lady Jemiyn and Caroline, 
 I remain. 
 Ever yours, faitlifully, 
 
 John James Granby.**'
 
 GBAMBY. S9 
 
 The reader, in perusing this document, en- 
 joys a privilege which Henry did not. As 
 the General was folding it up, his nephew 
 entreated, on the plea of his interest in the 
 subject, to be allowed to see what it contained, 
 but was repulsed with a look of good- 
 humoured positiveness. " No, no, my boy, for 
 once III be even with you ; you never told me 
 of your letter, and by George you shall not 
 see mine :'"* so saying, the General precluded all 
 further expostulation, by immediately sealing the 
 letter. 
 
 It was sent, and the subject dropped 
 for several hours; but the General was too 
 much pleased with his letter, to abstain from 
 resuming it : *' I wish you had seen my letter, 
 Harry, after all — I tliink you would have ap- 
 proved of what I said — it was strongly put — 
 I should like to be by when my old friend 
 receives it — ^by George it will make him look 
 blue. But so much the better — it will do him 
 good. What could he be thinking of, to use you
 
 40 GRANBY. 
 
 SO ? If he did not approve of your writing to 
 Caroline, he ought to have told you so before.*" 
 " I thought I had told you. Sir — though I 
 am not certain — that neither he nor Lady Jer- 
 myn knew that I meant to write.*" 
 
 <' The devil they did nt !— That alters the 
 question ; — why, my good fellow, I never knew 
 that." 
 
 " Did'nt you, indeed, Sir ? I am sorry to hear 
 it. Then since you wrote to Sir Thomas under 
 a false impression, may not your letter have 
 been expressed a little too warmly, and 
 would it not be advisable to repair it by a 
 second ? You know, you told me yourself, just 
 this minute, that some parts of it were strongly 
 put." 
 
 " Not a bit too strongly ; you need not alarm 
 yourself; there was no warmth in it; all 
 steady cool reasoning. I wish I had shown it 
 you nevertheless. Lord bless you, we are too 
 old friends to fall out; we understand one 
 another perfectly.*"
 
 GRAXBY. 41 
 
 Three days did the General repose on this 
 comfortable persuasion, and on the fourth re- 
 ceived the following communication from his 
 very old friend. 
 
 " Sir T. Jermyn acknowledges the receipt of 
 General Granby's note of the 14th inst. and 
 takes the liberty of saying in reply, that in the 
 first place he does not consider himself called 
 upon by the features of the case, and the situa- 
 tion of the parties, to offer any explanation of 
 his own conduct in the affair in question. He 
 perfectly agrees with General Granby in think- 
 ing, that to give such an explanation, is just as 
 little objectionable, as it is to ask it ; but that 
 objection, little as it may appear in certain 
 quarters, is sufficient to induce him to offer a 
 decided negative to such a step. Convinced 
 that their present mutual understanding will 
 not be improved by an extended communica- 
 tion, and concurring with General Granby in 
 his opinion, that what is most briefly expressed
 
 4^ GRAXBY. 
 
 is most speedily rectified, he begs leave to de- 
 cline any further discussion of the existing cir- 
 cumstances of the case at issue. He cannot, 
 however, conclude without an unqualified ex- 
 pression of his astonishment, that the matured 
 judgment of General Granby should have lent 
 itself to the sanction of so dangerous, so un- 
 advised, and so unprecedented a measure." 
 
 " I hope the answer is not unfavourable," 
 said Henry, who gathered very scanty materials 
 for hope from his uncle's countenance* " Can 
 you tell me the substance of what he says ?" 
 
 '^ No, hang me if I can, and I don't believe 
 he could himself. An old puppy ! he ought to 
 know better. My " note" — " features of the case" 
 — Then the whole style of the thing ! General 
 Granby-ing me all the way through. There ! 
 look at it. — There's a pretty, formal, flourishing, 
 prig of a letter for you ! taken word for word, 
 I verily believe, out of the " Complete Letter 
 Writer," or some confounded book or other. 
 By George, I think the fellow's crazy — to
 
 GRANBY. 43 
 
 write in that manner to a man he has known 
 these thirty years ! I give him up ; I've 
 done with him ; but I Ve a very good mind 
 to give him a brush at parting, too." 
 
 " I hope. Sir, you are not going to write 
 again," said the nephew, returning the letter to 
 his uncle ; " there does not seem to be anything 
 in this letter that you can easily take notice of." 
 
 "Do you think so.'*" said the General. 
 " Well, I won't write to him. I believe, after 
 all, nothing is so good as silent contempt. — No ! 
 I know what I'll do," (and his eye twinkled as 
 if he had seized a bright idea,) " light me the 
 taper — I am not going to write to him — you 
 need not be alarmed — come ! light me the taper — 
 I'll pay him of^ in his own coin — by George I 
 will. I'll send him his own choice letter back 
 again ; " and chuckling at the thought, he took 
 the lighted taper from his nephew's hand, and 
 Sir T. Jermyn's note was enclosed, sealed, and 
 directed, in an instant. 
 
 It is not to be expected, after this, that any
 
 44 GRANBY. 
 
 farther communication, at least, by letter, should 
 take place between the parties. The General, 
 by the hasty measure which seemed to him so 
 able a dispensation of retributive justice, had 
 entirely precluded any renewal on his own part, 
 that did not partake of the nature of an apo- 
 logy; and it was far from probable that Sir T. 
 Jermyn, whose brief and frosty address seemed 
 expressly calculated to check all future corre- 
 spondence, should a second time incur the risk 
 of a similar indignity. 
 
 With the General, when the fever of resent- 
 ment, and the elation of successful warfare had 
 a little subsided, the estrangement of an old 
 friend began to press heavily. But by Henry 
 it was still more severely felt. He could not 
 but reproach himself with being the original 
 author of all the misunderstanding which had 
 taken place. He was separated, and he thought, 
 in his despair, irrevocably separated, not only 
 from a family with whom he had long lived in 
 habits of friendly communion, but from a being
 
 GRAXBY. 45 
 
 whose perfections seemed to expand before his 
 eyes, through the mists of absence and distance, 
 and to whom he scarcely knew the intensity of his 
 attachment, till it was put thus cruelly to the test. 
 And to add to his affliction, while thus sadly 
 certain of his own feelings, he was left in me- 
 lancholy doubt as to the nature of Caro- 
 line's. He knew not with what sentiments she 
 had received his letter, nor how she had con- 
 cun-ed in its dismissal. There was ample ma- 
 terial for the most gloomy conjecture,' and no 
 favourable points in the recent occurrence 
 whereon to ground a cheerful presage. Imme- 
 diate circumstances wore an untoward and me- 
 nacing aspect, and when he looked far back for 
 consolation, he could only found his hopes upon 
 slender equivocal symptoms of a growing par- 
 tiality.
 
 46 GRANBY. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 This let me hope, that wlien in public view 
 I bring my pictures, men may feel them true"; 
 ' This is a likeness,' may they all declare, 
 ' And I have seen him, but I know not where : 
 For I should mourn the mischief I had done 
 If as the likeness all should fix on one. 
 
 CRaBBE. 
 
 Caroline Jermyn was worthy of all the love 
 and admiration which she had inspiredinourhero. 
 Without possessing that faultless regularity of 
 feature, the very blamelessness of which is some- 
 times insipid, she united the charm of interest- 
 ing expression, to a face and figure which were 
 sufficiently good to obtain an approval from the 
 most fastidious eye. There was a sunny bright- 
 ness in her smile, the charm of which could not 
 be overlooked ; and her cheerful and even 
 spirits, and playful vivacity, were rendered still 
 more attractive by her unvarying sweetness of
 
 GRANBY. 47 
 
 temper. She also possessed considerable quick- 
 ness of perception, mixed with a candour and 
 good- nature, which made her ever ready to ex- 
 cuse those follies which she was so prompt in 
 discovering. She was young, and had hitherto 
 seen little of the world ; and society on an ex- 
 tended scale was still almost new to her; but 
 she brought with her an innate tact, the united 
 result of good sense and good taste and powers 
 of pleasing, of which she was always less aware 
 than those who were in her company. She had 
 a good deal of diffidence, and a sensitive deli- 
 cacy of feeling, which gave to her manner an 
 occasional shade of reserve ; but it was reserve 
 without coldness, and which did not even injure 
 the artless sincerity of her address ; it was a 
 reserve which scarcely any who witnessed it 
 could wish to see removed,— so well did it accord 
 with the graceful softness of her character. She 
 was totally free from affectation, and had a 
 shrinking dread of display, w^hich gave an in-
 
 48 GRAN BY. 
 
 trinsic value to those captivating qualities which 
 she unconsciously exhibited. 
 
 Caroline Jermyn felt a sincere and strong at- 
 tachment to Henry Granby, whom she had now 
 known for several years. She could remember 
 to have liked him from the first period of their 
 acquaintance ; and that sentiment, which began 
 in girlish admiration, ripened with her years into 
 actual love. She, indeed, would not have given it 
 that name ; but how could one interpret other- 
 wise her eagerness to insure his good opinion; 
 her eye that watched his looks so timidly, yet 
 anxiously; her abstracted air when he was ab- 
 sent ; her brightening countenance when he ap- 
 proached ? She felt that she had derived, not 
 only pleasure, but advantage, from his society. 
 His correct taste had enabled him to enter judi- 
 ciously into her pursuits ; it was his pencil that 
 first called forth the powers of her s ; his love of 
 music that chiefly urged her to excel. Her lite- 
 rary taste had also been in a great degree
 
 GRANBY. 49 
 
 guided and encouraged by his ; and her talents, 
 which amply repaid their cultivation, had not 
 been suffered to lie waste. She was generally^ 
 but not pedantically accomplished ; and without 
 being profoundly or scientifically learned, was 
 well informed on most tc^ics of elegant and use- 
 ful knowledge, and such as give a value and a 
 grace to the intercourse of polished society. 
 
 Lady Jerm^-n, her mother, was one of those 
 common, unmarked characters, which like many 
 simple words in every day use, are by far the 
 most difficult to define. Her parents moved in 
 the sphere of humble gentility. When young she 
 was a beauty, and in marrying Sir Thomas Jer- 
 myn, made what her friends called an excellent 
 match ; while his friends reproached him behind 
 his back, with having been caught by a pretty 
 face. She was a person who had few tangible 
 points in her character, and who had the good 
 fortune never to be alluded to, by those who 
 knew her, with any strong expression either o 
 admiration or dislike. 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 50 GEANBY. 
 
 She punctually fulfilled all the ostensible du- 
 ties of her situation; was externally religious, 
 and even charitable ; and viewed with a plea- 
 sure which no one, I trust, would be so unge- 
 nerous as to envy, a long procession of charity- 
 school children, neatly dressed in uniform attire, 
 nearly the colour of the Jermyn livery, — the 
 modest badge of her humble benevolence. She 
 was not well read or higldy accomplished, but 
 she had plain, clear, mother wit, and a ready, 
 though not finished address. Like most under- 
 bred persons who have risen in life, she had a 
 considerable mania for fine people; a mania 
 which was often too broadly displayed: but 
 *' take her for all in all,"^ she was well calcu- 
 lated to go through the world with great re- 
 spectability ; for, as was happily observed by an 
 elderly gentleman, in the next town, far gone in 
 long whist and snuiF-taking, " she was a clever 
 body at a pinch, and always played her cards 
 weUr' — M oreover, the Marchioness of D — , one of 
 the magnates of her county, called her " a nice
 
 GRAXBY. 51 
 
 obliging little woman ; " the apothecary's wife 
 said she was " vastly civil, but rather igh ; " the 
 clergyman of the parish always allowed her to 
 be " a very correct person ; " and the attorney 
 lias been known to observe with a wink, that 
 '' she always minded her P's and her Q's."" 
 
 It is now fit that our readers should be intro- 
 duced to Sir Thomas Jerm^Ti, member for the 
 borough of Rottentown, and one of his majesty's 
 
 justices of the peace for the county of . 
 
 We mention these offices, both because they are 
 essential features in his character, and because 
 he himself would be the last person to pardon 
 our omission of them ; and to the discharge of 
 the duties of which, he brought as small a share 
 of talent as was competent to fulfil them, added 
 to as much zeal as could influence the most effi- 
 cient. It was his chief ambition to be consk 
 dered an able active man of business. Able he 
 could not be, but activity was not only within 
 his power, but seemed even necessary to his 
 existence. He was a man of weak talents, but 
 D 9. 
 
 ^,# 
 
 .#^^' 

 
 OZ GRANBY. 
 
 great vanity; fond of petty dictation and trifling 
 interference ; loving business for the importance 
 which it seemed to communicate, and the tem- 
 porary good which it afforded to a restless twad- 
 dling dread of the tedium of a leisure hour. He 
 liked to exert his influence even over a parish 
 oflicer, and to deal out admonition, if it was but 
 to a vagrant. He was a stirring man in a grand 
 jury room, and always carried things with a 
 high hand at a turnpike meeting. He was the 
 hero of the overseer of the poor of his parish, 
 and the constables of the district swore by hini. 
 But these humble honours had latterly been 
 superseded by others of a higher nature, for he 
 was ROW in Parliament ; a situation which had 
 for some time been the object of his ambition. 
 
 He had long cast a wishful eye towards 
 the representation of his own county ; but that 
 was already too well represented to admit 
 of an attack, and the health of the mem- 
 bers was as flourishing as their popularity. 
 Therefore, after pensively ruminating for some
 
 GRANBY. 5J3 
 
 time on this melancholy exception to the usual 
 instability of human affairs, he began to con- 
 sider that a snug little borough might answer 
 his purpose ; and accordingly, he was soon esta- 
 bhshed at a moderate expence, in the represen- 
 tation of the ancient borough of Rottentown, 
 where, instead of clamorous thousands, his con- 
 stituents amounted to " sweet fifteen, not one 
 vote more." 
 
 RottentowTi was a government borough, 
 and, tlierefore, his politics were ministerial. 
 In fact, his pohtics had long wavered ; and 
 though he thought it vastly more spirited 
 to dissent, and nothing easier than the art of 
 railing, yet, as most of his connections were on 
 the ministerial side, and a comfortable borough 
 was opportunely offered him from that quarter, 
 saddled only vaxh. the obligation of uniformly 
 voting for measures of Avhich, after all, he could 
 not see the great atrocity— under these circum- 
 stances he thought it as advisable as it was 
 easy, to range himself under the banners of the
 
 54 GRAXBY. 
 
 administration. But though bound hand and 
 foot by his political patrons, he still struggled 
 for independence. The reality he disregarded, 
 but he liked the name, and in order to obtain it, 
 adopted a plan of proceeding, which many 
 cleverer men might, in all probability, never have 
 thought of. His vote was the minister's, but his 
 voice was his own. It was his practice, therefore, 
 after supporting Government overnight, to ba- 
 lance the account by sporting what are commonly 
 called liberal sentiments the next morning. Some 
 short-sighted persons may think this inconsistent. 
 or even dishonest ; but in the Baronet's opinion 
 it was a line of conduct which happily blended 
 the policy of a Machiavel with the integrity of 
 a Cato. 
 
 So much for the politics of Sir Thomas Jer- 
 myn. His religion was of a kind well calculated 
 for worldly wear. Like the best coat of a Lon- 
 don shopman, it made its appearance only on a 
 Sunday, and was carefully laid by on the inter- 
 vening week days. He was loyally orthodox.
 
 granby. 55 
 
 — could utter many undeniable truisms about 
 " Church and King"^ — and drank that toast 
 even in tavern port, with seeming satisfaction. 
 He thought religion was a good thing, and 
 ought to be kept up, and that, like cheap soup, 
 it was " excellent for the poor."^ He saw it 
 made them orderly and respectful, punctual as 
 tenants, and industrious as workmen. What it 
 did for their betters he could not tell; but if it 
 made his tenants puU off their hats and pay 
 their rents, it was at any rate worth encouraging 
 in them. But let it not be supposed that he 
 was lax or careless. He had his scruples upon 
 many points of church discipline. He objected 
 to lay impropriations, — ^being a titheholder ; 
 thought that clergymen should never shoot,— ^for 
 he had a choice pheasant-cover near his rector''s 
 glebe ; and was morally convinced that they 
 ought not to be on the commission of the peace, 
 — for, of two neighbouring clerical justices, the 
 one had often presumed to differ in opinion
 
 56 GRANBY. 
 
 from him, and the other had three times refused 
 to convict his poachers. 
 
 In his relations of neighbour, landlord, mas* 
 ter, husband, and father, he might also be 
 viewed with considerable advantage. As a 
 neighbour he shone. Nobody gave more or 
 better dinners ; and he uniformly included 
 every one to whom it was worth his while to be 
 civil. — As a landlord he had his bright points. 
 He gave kind words and as much as they 
 could eat, to all who came full-handed on 
 his rent-day, and never distrained where 
 there was very little stock. As a father, he was 
 fond and indulgent, but had never bestowed 
 on his child the slightest portion of attention 
 or instruction. This, however, arose not so 
 much from indifference, as because he thought 
 the tuition of a girl quite out of his hne. Had 
 she been a boy, he would have questioned her in 
 the Latin Grammar, and looked over the school 
 accounts, and corrected the holiday task, (if he 
 could) with a great deal of pleasure ; but he was
 
 GEANBY. 57 
 
 no modem linguist, nor had much taste for female 
 accomplishments. In short, as long as she 
 smiled and looked pretty, and was well dressed, 
 he took it for granted that all went on well, 
 and gave himself ver}* little trouble about her. 
 He was an easy master to the few old ser- 
 vants who '• knew his way C and a dex- 
 terous old Swiss boasted, with truth, that he 
 cooild manage him completely. This was a 
 power which Lady Jermyn also possessed in a 
 very laudable degree, and which she exercised 
 in a manner which did much credit to her skill. 
 Like a good wife, she had made it her pride to 
 understand her husband thoroughly. She knew 
 all his weak points ; and this, considering their 
 number, was no small praise. But she made no 
 silly display of her authority, and generally 
 managed him without his knowing it. She 
 seems to have had in view the advice of Pope, 
 who commends a wife, 
 
 ** Who never answers till her husband cools, 
 ** And if she rules him, never shows she rules," 
 D 3
 
 58 GRAN BY. 
 
 But this, as she had never read Pope, only 
 proves that " great wits jump."^ 
 
 Thanks to her good management. Sir Tho- 
 mas and his lady went on as well together as any 
 pair could naturally be expected to do, whose 
 love did not long outlive the honey-moon. 
 
 Connected with his daughter, Sir Thomas liad 
 one subject of deep concern. She was his only 
 child, and yet she could not inherit his fortune. 
 In default of male issue, the Brackingsley estate, 
 which formed almost the whole of his property, 
 would go, on his death, to a distant relation. 
 This circumstance was known only to Sir Tho- 
 mas, Lady Jermyn, Caroline, the heir-at-law, 
 and a trusty attorney, and was kept by the 
 Baronet religiously secret, — a secresy which was 
 facilitated by the heir-at-law, Avho lived in a 
 retired and distant part of the kingdom, being 
 a humourist and a recluse, and by no means 
 likely to communicate the fact. The attorney 
 had sohd reasons for silence; and as no one 
 ever thought of questioning the truth of so
 
 GKANBY. 59 
 
 apparently self-evident a proposition, as that the 
 daughter of Sir Thomas Jermyn should suc- 
 ceed to his estate, Caroline, as her parents 
 d^ired, was universally looked upon as a very 
 great heiress. She herself had not till lately 
 been apprised of the truth. Her parents had 
 long been of opinion that she had much better 
 be kept in ignorance ; but at length Lady Jer- 
 myn, in a lecture upon imprudent alliances, in 
 order to impress upon her daughter's mind that 
 she could not afford to marry as she pleased, let 
 out the direful secret. This she did, as Sir Tho- 
 mas said, " with the best intentions in the world, 
 no doubt, but rather unnecessarily, nevertheless ;" 
 and sundry discussions took place in conse- 
 quence. The information, however, came 
 coupled with an injunction, which was repeated 
 with double force by Sir Thomas, that on no 
 account should she ever reveal it, until she 
 came to be married, or had received permission 
 to do so from them. She felt with pain that
 
 60 GRANBY. 
 
 there was a dishonesty in this silence, but she 
 could not remonstrate, and ventured not to dis- 
 obey. 
 
 With the ambitious and mercenary feelings 
 which prompted Sir Thomas and Lady Jermyn 
 to such a line of conduct, we cannot be sur- 
 prised at that change of manner which struck 
 such a chill to the heart of Henry Granby. It 
 is indeed rather a matter for surprise that this 
 change should have come so late, and that they 
 should have been so long insensible to the 
 natural consequence of the association which 
 they permitted. It is, however, attributable to 
 that infatuation with which people sometimes 
 rest satisfied, that events which they have long 
 predetermined to be inadmissible, can never 
 presume to take place. They, however, flat- 
 tered themselves that they had not been too 
 tardy in crushing the growing evil, and, well 
 pleased with the steps which they had latterly 
 taken, were reposing in placid satisfaction upon
 
 GRAKBY. 61 
 
 the success of their manoeuvres, when the dream 
 of security was unpleasantly dissolved by Henry 
 Granby"'s letter to Caroline. 
 
 The letter was received by Sir Thomas, 
 in the presence of Lady Jermyn only; and, 
 after opening the envelope, and observing that 
 it was from Ashton, he gave the enclosure to 
 the latter to deliver to her daughter. But 
 Lady Jermyn, who knew the hand, imme- 
 diately opened it ; and although in some degree 
 re-assured by the inoffensive nature of its con- 
 tents, she found cause for considerable anxiety, on 
 a patient re-perusal. It was, she thought, a \-ery 
 dangerous kind of letter, and exactly of that 
 sort which would be most fatal to her plans. 
 It was its very faultlessness she dreaded. Be- 
 yond the mere fact of \\Titing, there was nothing 
 reprehensible ; not a word, not a sentiment, to 
 which blame could be attached, and to which 
 she could reply in terms of censure. Then, if 
 delivered to Caroline, it could not fail to make 
 an impression favourable to the \mter ; and this
 
 6^ GRANBY. 
 
 could never be allowed. How to reply to it 
 she knew not, whether she did it in her own 
 name or Caroline''s. A reply would certainly 
 bring on a remonstrance ; and thus she should 
 be involved in an epistolatory conference, of 
 which she clearly foresaw the difficulty and dan- 
 ger. No : — silence was at once both easiest and 
 safest ; and after a conversation on the subject 
 with her husband, who entered fully into aU 
 her ideas, she re-enclosed to its author this 
 luckless epistle, and told Caroline that Mr. 
 Granby (she used to call him Henry) had sent 
 her so very improper a letter, that she did not 
 chuse to let her see it, but had immediately 
 sent it back, that being the only treatment of 
 which she considered it deserving. 
 
 Caroline was much hurt at this intelligence, 
 — more indeed than she was willing to show. 
 She found much difficulty in imagining Henry 
 really guilty of any great impropriety, and yet 
 she knew not how to believe him innocent. 
 Lady Jermyn had stopped her enquiries, by
 
 GRANBY. 63 
 
 severely commenting on the indelicacy of seek- 
 ing too minute an explanation ; and this rebuke, 
 coupled Tvith her mysterious nod, her grave and 
 studied censure of Henry's conduct, and the 
 tone of her intimation, in which more seemed 
 meant than met the ear, all this conveyed to 
 the unsophisticated mind of CaroHne an almost 
 a\^'ful impression of some dire and indefinable 
 delinquency. Lady Jemiyn also signified, but 
 more by manner than by words, that the sup- 
 pression of the letter, and her refusal to explain, 
 were acts of tenderness towards the cidprit. 
 
 But while Caroline was lamenting Granby's 
 unworthiness, and deeply pondering upon the 
 slight and unsatisfactory hints, which were all 
 she was allowed to receive, Sir Thomas and his 
 lady were beginning to subside into comfortable 
 forgetfulness of this aggravated case, when they 
 were roused afresh by the expostulation of 
 General Granby. This both increased their 
 irritation, and seemed to throw fresh light upon 
 the subject. They now began to view the
 
 64 GEANBY 
 
 whole as a concerted scheme between the unck 
 and the nephew ; and although the idea of the 
 union of Henry and Caroline had never entered 
 the mind of the former until the receipt of Sir 
 Thomas''s letter, they were soon able to enume- 
 rate many circumstances in his previous conduct, 
 plainly indicative of such a design. 
 
 Such treacherous behaviour was, in their opi- 
 nion, deserving of severe rebuke, and entirely 
 cancelled all the obligations of former friendship. 
 The Baronet, therefore, sat down, full of his 
 wrongs, to the business of reply ; and being fresh 
 from the perusal of a parliamentary protest of 
 the Upper House, which he justly regarded as 
 an able specimen of the suaviter in modo,Jortiier 
 in re, he endeavoured to embody, in his brief 
 remonstrance, the circumlocutory graces of the 
 great original. 
 
 We have already witnessed the feelings 
 which this letter excited, and the fate which 
 it received. The rage of the Baronet on re- 
 ceiving it again, could be equalled only by his
 
 GRAXBY. 65 
 
 surprise ; and he solemnly vowed that he would 
 renounce all connection with a family, whom his 
 interest prompted him to neglect, and who had 
 laboured to accelerate a formal rupture, by so 
 gross a complication of studied insults: and 
 thus ended all communication between the 
 houses of Brackingsley and Ashton.
 
 66 GRANBY. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 How convenient it proves to be a rational animal, who knows how to 
 find or invent a plausible pretext for whatever it has an incliuaUon 
 to do! — Franklin. 
 
 About a month after the disastrous close of the 
 correspondence just alluded to, Lady Jermyn's 
 eye, in glancing over the fashionable movements 
 in the Morning Post, rested upon a paragraph 
 copied from a provincial paper, announcing that 
 on such a day, " the Duke and Duchess of Ihnin- 
 
 ster and suite passed through the town of 
 
 on a visit to Viscount Daventry, at his superb 
 seat, Hemingsworth Castle, in the county of 
 
 ." Lord Daventry had married the 
 
 only sister of Sir T. Jermyn, and lived at a
 
 GRANBY. 6T 
 
 distance which prevented any considerable fre- 
 quency of intercourse. The Daventrys, it is 
 true, might perhaps be suspected (from their 
 superior rank, great fortune, and acknowledged 
 station in the fashionable world,) of looking a 
 little de haut en has upon their relations at 
 Brackingsley ; but they always maintained a 
 very decent degree of cordiality and attention, 
 said and wrote " an elegant sufficiency" of civil 
 things, and appeared glad to see them whenever 
 they met. Their intercourse, however, had at 
 this time suffered a long interruption, and it 
 struck Lady Jermyn, that the approaching visit 
 of the Ducal party would afford a desirable 
 opportunity of renewing it. She therefore 
 oj:>ened the subject next morning at breakfast. 
 
 " I have been tliinking for some time. Sir 
 Thomas, that we have been using the Daventrys 
 rather ill, and you cannot tliink how it lies upon 
 my mind." 
 
 " Using them ill ! how so ?'^ said the Baro-
 
 68 
 
 GRANBY. 
 
 net, raising his head from a cup of green tea, 
 and the Report of the Game Committee. 
 
 " Why, you know how kind they have 
 always been, and how fond they are of having 
 us with them, and how long it is since they 
 have been with us." 
 
 " Yes — I know it is a long time; but whose 
 fault was that.'' I'm sure we have asked them 
 often enough.'"* 
 
 ^' True, true, Sir Thomas, so we have. Cir- 
 cumstances, you know, always prevented them. 
 But what I was going to say was this — I 
 really think we have not behaved quite well 
 to them. Your sister Daventry, when we saw 
 them at Leamington, said a great deal — a great 
 deal indeed, about our meeting so seldom ; and 
 she seemed to allude to it again in her note, 
 when she sent us those seeds and cuttings for 
 the green-house ; and you know. Sir Thomas, 
 you have had two letters from Lord Daven- 
 try, written expressly to ask you there."
 
 aRAXBY. 69 
 
 " No, no, my dear ; not written expressly ; 
 no such thing. One was about an under game- 
 keeper, and the other was full of the Compton- 
 heath Inclosure Bill. He said something, to be 
 sure, in each of them, about seeing us at Hem- 
 ingsworth ; but he did not fix any day. They 
 were mere general invitations."*' 
 
 " Certainly, certainly, there were other sub- 
 jects in both letters. You know, you gentle- 
 men seldom write except upon business. But 
 you are aware, yourself, that he has invited 
 us twice; and after that, I really think it is 
 now our turn to show some attention, and that 
 we cannot do less than offer to go to them." 
 
 " Go to them ! oh ! that is the attention 
 you mean ! Why I thought. Lady Jermyn, 
 you were going to propose that we should ask 
 them to come to us." 
 
 " I should be truly happy, I'm sure, to bee 
 them here, as I always am, and ever have been ; 
 but you know, Sir Thomas, at this time of the 
 year, they are constantly engaged with company
 
 70 GEANBY. 
 
 at home ; therefore, much as we may desire it, our 
 seeing them here is out of the question. Be- 
 sides, I think it would be quite unpardonable to 
 take no notice of their invitation, after all that 
 your sister has said, and Lord Daventry having 
 written twice on the subject."' 
 
 " I don't know what my sister may have said, 
 but as for Daventry 's two letters, they were 
 nothing, as I told you, but general invitations ; 
 and I always have said, and always shall say, 
 that general invitations stand for nothing." 
 
 "Now, really, Sir Thomas, I cannot agree with 
 you. I know it is the fashion to abuse general 
 invitations, but for my part, I always stand 
 up for them. To be sure, they are often used 
 to indifferent people that one does'nt care about, 
 because, perhaps, one must ask them, and can- 
 not exactly at the moment fix any time ; but, 
 surely, when friends and relations invite one 
 in that way, they mean, that one shall at all 
 times be equally welcome.'' 
 
 "Equally welcome ! — aye, very likely — that
 
 GRAXBY. 71 
 
 is to say, just as little at one time as another. 
 No, no, my dear, I am no friend to general 
 invitations. I have always said, and I always 
 shall say, that a person who asks you to come 
 ' at any time,' had much rather you never 
 came at aU.'"* 
 
 " Oh, Sir Thomas ! you must not say that, be- 
 cause you are doing yourself a great injustice. 
 You know, you often do that very thing to many 
 excellent people, that I am sure we have a great 
 regard for. There are the Joneses, and the 
 Gibbses, and the Robinses, and the Bai'kers : 
 you never meet them but you make a speech 
 about seeing them, and yet we never have them 
 but once in two years." 
 
 " Why, between ourselves, my dear," said the 
 baronet, in a confidential tone, " towards a cer- 
 tain class of people that one must be civil to, 
 a little management of this sort is very useful ; 
 and you may depend upon it, that Daventry 
 pays off his scores in that coin as well as our- 
 selves."
 
 72 GRANBY. 
 
 " I have not the least doubt of it— to certain 
 people — but I cannot suppose that he does to us. 
 Really, Sir Thomas we ought to go, if it is only 
 to show that we do not place ourselves in that class. 
 Your dear sister would feel it very much ; and I 
 am sure. Sir Thomas, that you, who are so gene- 
 rally civil to everybody, would never be guilty 
 of an act of rtyd^ness to your own near relations." 
 
 " Oh, I have no objection to go to them ; 
 only, I have a great deal of business of one sort 
 or other ; and I think I am rather wanted here 
 at present." 
 
 '* Ah, Sir Thomas ! — as for that, you know 
 you are always wanted in this neighbourhood. We 
 could never leave home if that were an excuse. 
 But they ought to be taught to do without you. 
 A man in your situation is not to be made a 
 drudge. He ought to take an opportunity of 
 showing his independence." 
 
 " Yes, yes— no doubt — no doubt— well, do 
 aa you please — I say again, I have no objection 
 to go to Hemingsworth,"
 
 GRAXBY. 73 
 
 " Very well. I could do nothing, you know, 
 without your concurrence ; but since you agree 
 to go, I "11 write directly to your sister Da- 
 ventry, and tell her we'll come to them, if 
 they can receive us, on ^Monday next. There 
 will be ample time for an answer." 
 
 A polite and carefully worded note wa* 
 quickly dispatched to Lord Daventry, and re- 
 ceived, as soon as the distance would permit, a 
 very civil and favourable reply. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 GRAN BY. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 This castle liath a pleasant seat: the air, 
 Nimbly and svveetly recommends itself 
 Unto our gentle senses. — Macbeth. 
 
 Monday came : it was a bright, clear, cheer- 
 ful, frosty day — one of those which breathe pe- 
 culiar exhilaration, and in which the smiling 
 aspect of winter, like the ingratiating vivacity 
 of green old age, charms the more because the 
 less expected. The sun shone brightly through 
 the thin silvery haze, and was gaily reflected by 
 small twinkling drops upon every bough, and 
 the dazzling rime upon the grass below. The 
 stillness of the air allowed the ear to catch, with 
 more than usual ease, an enlivening medley of 
 familiar sounds, denoting life, gaiety, and
 
 GRANBY. 75 
 
 bustle; the rattle of the distant coach, the 
 strong clear whistle of the light-hearted labourer, 
 the busy hum of the neighbouring village, the 
 distant clamour of foraging rooks, and, nearer 
 at hand, the merry chattering of the redwing, 
 and the brisk chirp of the plump-looking little 
 birds which frisked about, apparently larger and 
 gayer than ever. 
 
 On such a morning, when there was just a 
 sufficient accession of cold to awaken " the fair'' 
 to a becoming sense of the soft comforts of 
 siransdown and chinchilla, and the " lords of 
 the creation*' to the substantial merits of double- 
 milled drab and lined beaver, did Sir Thomas 
 Jermyn, his lady, and their daughter, step into 
 their carriage, and depart for Hemingsworth. It 
 is not to be expected, in this age of M'Adamized 
 roads, patent axles, anti-attrition, and all the 
 other luxurious aids of speedy conveyance, that 
 a forty miles journey in one of Leader's best 
 carriages, drawn by four good horses, should 
 e2
 
 76 GTIANBY. 
 
 afford many interesting casualties to embellish 
 the narration. On the contrary, not a linchpin 
 presumed to quit its post; and they rolled 
 smootlily along, till, as the shades of night drew 
 near, or, to speak in loftier and more befitting 
 language, " when the declining orb of day had 
 tinged with his expiring beams the waxing 
 glories of the western hemisphere,'"' our party 
 entered the park at Hemingsworth. 
 
 This was a level and rather uninteresting tract 
 of ground, fringed with a thin belt of spiry 
 poplars, and many a kidne}^- formed clump of 
 spruce looking trees, which had been browzed 
 into more than their natural formality. Here 
 and there, thinly scattered, was a solitary 
 giant of the woods, which seemed to frown 
 with disdain upon these congregated upstarts, 
 and which showed by its growth the anti- 
 quity of the demesne, and by its soHtary situa- 
 tion the subsequent ravages of the destroying 
 axe. It seemed as if an unfortunate effort had
 
 GRANBY. 77 
 
 been lately made, to clothe afresh a half denuded 
 place, which was now ahnost in the situation of 
 a person who should put on a modem-made coat 
 over the trunk hose and long-lapped waistcoat 
 of his great grandfather. 
 
 A neat, well-kept road, which wriggled un- 
 meaningly across a flat, conducted them to the 
 mansion, which, from the humility of its situa- 
 tion, might with most propriety have exhibited 
 the Palladian, Old English, or Abbey-Gothic 
 styles of architecture, but which the taste of 
 the noble owner had lately destined to as- 
 sume the martial air of a baronial castle. It 
 had frowning battlements, and well buttressed 
 walls, with small arched windows, and round 
 towers of a most imposing air of strength, 
 pierced here and there with those narrow slits, 
 from which the archer of other days could 
 " shoot his bolt" securely. What with bringing 
 the offices into play, and here and there a sup- 
 plementary dead wall, the castle exhibited a very 
 formidable extent. The owner had also laboured
 
 ^8 GRAN Br. 
 
 to blend his outward bravery with inward con- 
 venience, and to cloak the most peaceful pur- 
 poses under the most menacing exterior. The 
 white cotton cap of his French cook, seen be- 
 tween the broad stanchions of a deep gothic 
 window, betrayed that one massy wing contained 
 a kitchen. The larder was a feudal guard-room ; 
 the dairy was a " donjon keep f' and a draw- 
 bridge conducted to the coal-hole. 
 
 But while we are describing the appearance of 
 the place, we are keeping the newly arrived 
 guests waiting at the door, for what both them- 
 selves and the noble owners of the mansion 
 would certainly have thought an unconscionable 
 time. They were ushered through a spacious 
 hall, and several rooms, of which the united 
 effects of twilight and firelight only sufficed to 
 inform them of the size ; and they saw, in their 
 short and rapid progress, few objects to arrest 
 their attention. In one room were two young 
 men in shooting jackets, playing or pretending 
 to play at billiards ; and in another, a person,
 
 GRANBY. 79 
 
 they believed of the male sex, sitting by the 
 fire, dressed in something red, most probably a 
 hunting coat, apparently asleep in a deep arm- 
 chair. They passed on — another door was 
 opened — their names were announced — and they 
 found winding towards them, through a mighty 
 maze of tables, chairs, and ottomans. Lady Da- 
 ventry and her eldest daughter ; and several 
 minutes were quickly passed in the cordial inter- 
 change of customary civilities. 
 
 Lady Daventry was as glad to see them as 
 she seemed to be ; for she was a remarkably 
 good-natured woman, and was really fond both 
 of her brother and her niece, and had no dislike 
 to Lady Jerrayn, whose worldly sense she re- 
 spected, and for whose little occasional want of 
 refinement she was always ready to make more 
 than requisite allowances, upon the consider- 
 ation that, '•' poor thing, she had few advantages 
 in early life." Lady Daventry was not clever, 
 but pleasing and amiable ; and she was single-
 
 80 GRANBY. 
 
 hearted and guileless to a degree which Lady 
 Jermyn thought quite incompatible with the 
 worldly avocations of her station, and her long 
 and high standing in fashionable circles. 
 
 Lord Daventry presently entered, and drew 
 off Sir Thomas Jermyn to another room, to 
 show him, as well as the light would permit, a 
 projected alteration from an adjoining window, 
 and left the ladies to themselves. They talked 
 long ; and Lady Daventry at length began to 
 speak of their present and expected guests. " 1 
 am glad you happened to come to us now, for 
 we have got the Duke and Duchess of Ilminster 
 with us, and their daughter — the unmarried 
 one — delightful people — you are sure to like 
 them. They have made a long stay with us. 
 Most of the party are gone that we asked here 
 to meet them, but there are more arriving to- 
 morrow. Lord Chesterton, and Mr. Duncan 
 and Lady Harriet — Oh ! and who do you think 
 we have here now? Mr. Trebeck — the Tre-
 
 GRANBY. 81 
 
 beck — you know whom I mean — we take his 
 visit as a great compliment," said she, laughing. 
 " But it is really very fortunate, for we were 
 disappointed in Lord and Lady Tenby, who 
 were to have come to meet the Duke and 
 Duchess; and Mr. Trebeck is the person of all 
 others, for he is particularly intimate — quite in 
 their set. Perhaps you don't know him, but of 
 course you have heard him spoken of; — very fine, 
 and every thing of that sort ; but pleasant, re- 
 markably pleasant where he is known. But I 
 must not keep you here," said she, warned of 
 the time by seeing a servant enter to light the 
 lamps ; and they accordingly betook themselves 
 to the pleasing labour of adornment. 
 
 When Caroline found herself alone with her 
 mother, she could not forbear a question among 
 others, concerning the Mr. Trebeck whom she 
 had just heard spoken of. 
 
 " I do not know much about him, my dear,'" 
 said her mother, " any farther than this, that he 
 is what they call very fine." 
 
 £3
 
 82 GRAN BY. 
 
 " Yes, mamma, so my aunt said; but in what 
 way ' fine ?' " 
 
 " Oh, gives himself airs, and is very con- 
 ceited, and a great dandy, and every thing of 
 that sort." 
 
 Caroline thought she comprehended ; and was 
 satisfied and silent, and repaired to her apart- 
 ment, where she occupied her mind as much as 
 the important business of the toilette would 
 permit, in forming abstract ideas of a duke and 
 duchess, and in endeavouring to divine what 
 manner of man the Trebeck could possibly be. 
 
 On descending to the drawing-room with Lady 
 Jermyn, after having undergone the maternal 
 scrutiny, and been complacently pronounced " a 
 presentable figure," she found most of the party 
 assembled, and among them the Duke and 
 Duchess, and their daughter Lady Elizabeth 
 Bellasys, to all of whom the Brackingsley party 
 were severally and summarily introduced. 
 
 The Duke was a fat, jovial, good-humoured 
 looking man^ with a twinkling eye, and a chuck-
 
 GRANBY. 83 
 
 ling laugh at his friend's remarks, which it did 
 one's heart good to hear. — The Duchess seemed a 
 quiet, common-place woman, of gentle manners, 
 with a countenance guiltless of much meaning, 
 and in fact with no very distinguishing character 
 about her. She fluently uttered some good- 
 humoured every day civihties, — praising, among 
 other things, the beauties of Brackingsley, for 
 which it turned out that she had mistaken 
 another place, and enquiring after a supposed 
 near neighbour, whom Lady Jermyn had never 
 seen. — Her daughter was an old young lady, 
 whose celibacy might be considered as fixed. 
 She was rather plain, but had a countenance 
 that possessed all the intelligence which her mo- 
 ther's wanted ; a keen quick eye, and a sarcastic 
 turn of the mouth, which gave rather an ill-na- 
 tured and unprepossessing expression to her face. 
 Caroline was introduced to her by Lady Da- 
 ventry, and received with a rapid, careless, but 
 acute scrutiny, and an air, which though devoid
 
 84 GRA-NBY. 
 
 of formality, was felt by the former to be chilling 
 and repulsive. 
 
 There were no other ladies except the Misses 
 Chfton. The rest of the gentlemen consisted of 
 Mr. Clifton, and a sporting friend, Mr. AVilliam 
 Charlecote; a tall, upright, smirking man in 
 black, whose name was Bennett, and who was 
 in orders, and had newly entered into the situa- 
 tion of domestic tutor to the younger Cliftons ; 
 Mr. Rigby, a factotum of the Duke's, — a bluff, 
 coarse, square-built person, with a steady step, 
 and an ease of manner, which, though not ob- 
 trusive, was still not gentlemanly ; and though 
 ^ast not least, the Hon. Mr. Tarleton, an effemi- 
 nate looking young man, more particularly dis- 
 tinguished by a very " recherche'' attire, a pro- 
 fusion of chain work, several rings, a well curled 
 head, and a highly scented handkerchief. His 
 talk was as pretty as his appearance, and his 
 acquirements corresponded. He had a correct 
 taste in bijouterie and dress, took in the Journal
 
 GRAXBr. 85 
 
 des Modes, could tell Lyons silk from English 
 by the feel, and was not to be deceived (it was 
 said) by paste diamonds at any distance. He 
 was also well versed in foreign affairs — could 
 always tell the private history of the new " prima 
 donna," and knew long before any body else, 
 from unquestionable authority, (and he would 
 whisper it mysteriously), that the French go- 
 vernment would not suffer the expected " pre- 
 mier danseur"" to come to England. 
 
 The short time which precedes an English din- 
 ner party is universally stigmatised as the dullest 
 period which is passed in society ; and far be it 
 from us rashly to endeavour to rescue from dis- 
 grace what the sentence of the world so univer- 
 sally condemns. If it is libelled, it must look for 
 other advocates, for we are bound to declare 
 that the present party did not rescue it from the 
 usual imputations. The ladies were talking of 
 their morning's walk and drive; the gentlemen 
 recounting the successes of their " battue." Sir 
 Thomas Jermyn had already fastened upon the
 
 86 GRANBY. 
 
 Duke, and was endeavouring to impress upon 
 his mind the overwhelming weight of business 
 which was the unavoidable lot of every member 
 of the lower house, and was enumerating upon 
 his fingers the committees he had been upon 
 during the two last sessions, — when, to the relief 
 of his Grace, the dinner was announced.
 
 GRANBY. 87 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 " Sir, your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious ; 
 pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without 
 impudence, and strange without heresy." — Love's Labolb Lost. 
 
 Caroline, on being seated, found at her 
 side a vacant chair, between herself and the 
 Duchess, which as her eye glanced round the 
 table, she felt convinced was to be occupied by 
 Mr. Trebeck. That gentleman, however, did 
 not soon make his appearance; and she had 
 taken her soup in tantalizing suspense, and had 
 begun to form a resolute determination to at- 
 tend to what was passing on the other side, 
 when she was roused by Lord Daventry's 
 '" Trebeck, shall I help you ? — I am afraid it is 
 cold ;" when she perceived the long expected 
 person glide into his seat with an apologetic
 
 88 GRANBY. 
 
 shrug, and " If you please, but I'll first take 
 some wine with the Duchess. — Cold, is it ? oh ! 
 never mind;" and half turning to Caroline, 
 " even cold fish is a luxury to one who comes 
 in resigned to see nothing but the cheese." 
 
 She made no answer, and she believes stared 
 at him, for he turned away again with a slight 
 smile, and applied himself to his cold turbot 
 and salad, between which, and a long story of 
 the Duchess's, he seemed very equally to divide 
 his attention. 
 
 Caroline had now an opportunity of observ- 
 ing Mr. Trebeck, as much as w^as justifiable in 
 her age and sex, and found that he was not 
 exactly the sort of person she had pre-figured 
 to herself. She had been rather misled by her 
 mother's word " dandy," and expected to view 
 in him an excess of all the peculiarities of that 
 numerous but decreasing tribe. She saw, there- 
 fore, with surprise, that he wore a 'dress in no 
 respect distinguishable from that of ten thou- 
 sand others ; that he had neither rings nor
 
 GRANBY. 89 
 
 chains, that his head was not fixed at any par- 
 ticular angle, and that the quiet and almost 
 careless tie of his cravat, plainly shewed that 
 he had neither studied " Neckclothiana," nor 
 believed in the axiom that " Starch makes 
 the man." Then there was nothing supercili- 
 ous or affected in his manner, which w^s totally 
 free from all peculiarity. As for his person, it 
 was neither plain nor handsome, but there was 
 an air of intelligence and subdued satire, and 
 an intuitive quickness in his eye, in the short 
 glance which he bestowed upon her. which 
 rather restored him to her estimation. But 
 altogether she was a little disappointed at find- 
 ing him so much like other people, and could 
 not conceive why the honour of his visit should 
 be so strongly felt by Lady Daventry. 
 
 These speculations beguiled a time which 
 otherwise, from her constrained silence, she 
 would have thought dull; but they were at 
 length broken by her right hand neighbour, 
 Mr. William Charlecote, a chubby, plain,
 
 90 GRANBY. 
 
 good humoured young man, tightly cravated, 
 who having answered a question across the 
 table from Mr. Clifton about the hounds, 
 turning abruptly to Caroline, asked her if she 
 ever hunted. She answered in the negative, 
 with a look of slight surprise at the oddity of 
 the question. " Oh ! it does not signify," said 
 he, thinking she was ashamed of the avowal, 
 *' everybody does not do it; but I thought, 
 perhaps, you did. It seems to be quite the rage 
 
 at present. Ever been in shire ? Do you 
 
 know the Ditchleys ? Mrs. John Ditchley is a 
 famous horsewoman ; hunts four times a week, 
 and goes fifteen miles to cover ; but I don't 
 speak of that as any great thing ; however, she 
 does it ;' a fact, upon my honour. She rides 
 better than her husband — leads him — actually 
 leads him." 
 
 " Leads her husband ? — I hardly understand 
 — what — with a rein .'^'" 
 
 " Oh ! no — I only meant she goes first, and 
 makes him follow her."
 
 GRANEY. 91 
 
 He then turned away to talk to one of the 
 Miss Ciiftons, and Caroline had an ample op- 
 portunity of extending her attention to all the 
 audible conversation that passed around her, 
 particularly to that of his Grace of Ilminster, 
 who was expatiating with enthusiasm upon a 
 Strasbourg pate, and " a glorious matelotte"' 
 that he had tasted somewhere. From thence he 
 digressed to his friend Lord A.'s cook, *' a man 
 of a thousand" — *' decidedly the first artist of 
 his day" — his " risolles," his " vol-au-vents'' 
 were superb — did any body ever eat any- 
 thing better than his " rognons au bechamel," 
 his " filets de sole," his " fricandeaux aux 
 pointes d'asperge ?" And then his soufflets ! 
 his soufflets were unique. '• So light ! so de- 
 licately flavoured ! of such an exquisite consis- 
 tency ! the very eider-down of eatables," said 
 his Grace, growing eloquent in their praise. 
 " Oh, it was quite like eating air ! — And then, 
 his epigrammes ! — there is nothing else in
 
 92 GRANBY. 
 
 the world like them — they are quite the 
 cleverest things known." 
 
 He then drew a rapid but masterly sketch 
 of the state of cookery at the present period ; 
 which, as the style of discourse was rather 
 novel, was listened to by Caroline with amused 
 attention,— an attention which, as it appeared, 
 was not unobserved by her left-hand neigh- 
 bour Mr. Trebeck, for she was presently roused 
 from it by his asking her in a low tone if she 
 had ever met the Duke before. 
 
 " I assure you," said he, " that upon that 
 subject he is well worth attending to. He is 
 supposed to possess more true science than any 
 amateur of his day. By the bye, what is the 
 dish before you ? It looks well, and I see you 
 are eating some of it. Let me recommend it to 
 him upon your authority ; I dare not upon my 
 own." 
 
 " Then pray do not use mine." 
 
 " Yes, I will, with your permission ; I'll tell
 
 GRAXBY. 93 
 
 him you thought by what dropt from him in 
 conversation that it would exactly suit the genius 
 of his taste. Shall I ? Yes, Duke," (raising liis 
 voice a little, and speaking across the table.) 
 
 " Oh, no ! how can you ?" 
 
 "Why not .^— Duke," (with a glance at Caro- 
 hne) " will you allow me to take wine with 
 you.?'' 
 
 *•• I thought," said she, relieved from her tre- 
 pidation, and laughing shghtly, " you would 
 never say any thing so very strange." 
 
 " You have too good an opinion of me ; I 
 blush for my unworthiness. But confess, that 
 in fact you were rather alarmed at the idea of 
 being held up to such a critic as the recommen- 
 der of a bad dish." 
 
 " Oh no, I was not thinking of that ; but I 
 hardly know the Duke ; and it would have 
 seemed so odd ; and perhaps he might have 
 thought that I had really told you to say some- 
 thing of that kind." 
 
 " Of course he would ; but you must not
 
 94 GRANBY. 
 
 suppose that he would have been at all sui*prised 
 at it. I'm afraid you are not aware of the full 
 extent of your privileges, and are not conscious 
 how many things young ladies can, and may, 
 and wiU do." 
 
 " Indeed I am not — perhaps you will instruct 
 me." 
 
 " Ah, I never do that for any body. I like to 
 see young ladies instruct themselves. It is better 
 for them, and much more amusing to me. But, 
 however, for once I will venture to tell you, that 
 a very competent knowledge of the duties of 
 women may, with proper attention, be picked 
 up in a ball room." 
 
 *' Then I hope,'' said she laughing, '' you 
 will attribute my deficiency to my little experi- 
 ence of balls. I have only been at two." 
 
 " Only two ! and one of them I suppose a 
 race ball. Then you have not yet experienced 
 any of the pleasures of a London season ? 
 Never had the dear delight of seeing and being 
 seen, in a well of tall people at a rout, or passed
 
 GRAXBY. 95 
 
 a pleasant hour at a ball upon a staircase ? I 
 envy you. You have much to enjo3\'*' 
 '' You do not mean that I really have ? ' 
 '' Yes — really. But let me give you a cau- 
 tion or two. Never dance with any man with- 
 out first knowing his character and condition, 
 on the word of two credible chaperons. At 
 balls, too, consider what you come for — to 
 dance of course, and not to converse ; therefore^ 
 never talk yourself, nor encourage it in 
 others.'' 
 
 " I'm afraid I can only answer for myself.'' 
 " Why, if foolish, well-meaning people ^^ill 
 choose to be entertaining, I question if you 
 have the power of frowning them down in a very 
 forbidding manner : but I would give them no 
 countenance nevertheless.'' 
 
 " Your advice seems a little ironical.'" 
 *• Oh, you may either follow it or reverse it — 
 that is its chief beauty. It is equally good 
 taken either way." 
 
 After a slight pause, he continued — *• I hope
 
 GRAN BY. 
 
 you do not sing or play, or draw, or do anything 
 that every body else does." 
 
 '' I am obliged to confess that I do a little — 
 very little — in each."" 
 
 " I understand your ' very little ;'' I'm afraid 
 you are accomplished." 
 
 " You need 'have no fear of that. But why 
 are you an enemy to all accomplishments ?^ 
 
 '' All accomplishments ? Nay, surely, you 
 do not think me an enemy to all ? What can 
 you possibly take me for .?" 
 
 *' I do not know," said she laughing slightly. 
 
 " Yes, I see you do not know exactly what 
 to make of me, and are not without your appre- 
 hensions. I can perceive that, though you try 
 to conceal them. But never mind, I am a safe 
 person to sit near — sometimes. I am to-day. 
 This is one of my lucid intervals. I'm much 
 better, thanks to my keeper. There he is, on 
 the other side of the table — the tall man in 
 black,"" (pointing out Mr. Bennett) " a highly 
 respectable kind of person. I came with him
 
 GRAIQBY. 97 
 
 here for change of air. How do you think I 
 look at present f " 
 
 Caroline could not answer him for laughing. 
 
 " Nay," said he, " it is cruel to laugh on 
 such a subject. It is very hard that you 
 should do that, and misrepresent my meaning 
 too." 
 
 ''■Well then," said Caroline, resuming a re- 
 spectable portion of gravity ; " that I may not 
 be guilty of that again, what accomplishments 
 do you allow to be tolerable ? " 
 
 "Let me see," said he, with a look of con- 
 sideration ; " you may play a waltz with one 
 hand, and dance as little as you thiuk conveni- 
 ent. You may draw caricatures of your inti- 
 mate friends. You may 7iot sing a note of 
 Rossini ; nor sketch gateposts and donkeys after 
 nature. You may sit to a harp ; but you need 
 not play it. You must not paint miniatures nor 
 copy Swiss costumes. But you may manufac- 
 ture any thing — from a cap do^vTi to a pair of 
 shoes — always remembering that the less useful 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 GRAM BY. 
 
 your work the better. Can you remember all 
 this ?" 
 
 " I do not know," said she, " it compre- 
 hends so much ; and I am rather puzzled be- 
 tween the ' mays' and ' must nots.' However, 
 it seems, according to your code, that very 
 little is to be required of me ; for you have not 
 mentioned anything that I positively must 
 do/' 
 
 "Ah, well, I can reduce all to a very 
 small compass. You must be an archeress in 
 the summer, and a skater in the winter, and play 
 well at billiards all the year : and if you do 
 these extremely well, my admiration will have no 
 bounds." 
 
 " I believe I must forfeit all claim to your 
 admiration then, for unfortunately I can do none 
 of all these." 
 
 " Then you must place it to the account of 
 your other gifts.**' 
 
 " Certainly — when it comes." 
 
 " Oh it is sure to come, as you well know :
 
 GRANBY. 99 
 
 but, nevertheless, I like that incredulous look 
 extremely." 
 
 He then turned away, thinking probably that 
 he had paid her the compliment of sufficient 
 attention, and began a conversation with the 
 Duchess, which was carried on in such a well 
 regulated under tone, as to be perfectly inaudi- 
 ble to any but themselves. 
 
 Nothing worth notice ensued. The business 
 of dining proceeded with dull decorum ; and 
 Mr. Trebeck, though he seemed to amuse the 
 Duchess and her daughter, yet as he spoke of 
 persons of whom Caroline knew nothing, ap- 
 peared so uninteresting and unintelligible to her, 
 that she saw with pleasure the circulating nod, 
 which proposed to the ladies to repair to the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 Thither, as it is not our fate to be of the 
 softer sex, we may not follow them ; nor can we 
 presume to imagine the style of conversation 
 which was likely to have taken place. Thus 
 far only can we venture : if they are willing to 
 F 2
 
 100 GHANBY. 
 
 believe that the sole topics of the absent gentle- 
 men are not invariably field sports and politics, 
 we will take upon ourselves, however rashly, 
 to declare, that the eloquent tongues of the 
 female coterie are not always exercised upon 
 dress and scandal. 
 
 It was, we believe, rather a dull hour, and 
 Caroline was not a little pleased when the open- 
 ing doors admitted a reinforcement to break the 
 regularity of their languid circle. Music soon 
 lent its aid. One of the Miss Cliftons began to 
 play some Swiss waltzes out of a marvellously 
 small music book, wherein they seemed to have 
 been written with a crow quill ; and Mr. Tre- 
 beck attempted and executed with another of the 
 sisters the difficult task of waltzing a figure of 
 eight round two chairs. 
 
 Singing followed. Miss Clifton was the chief 
 vocalist ; and after a few solos engaged the 
 assistance of Mr. Tarleton. She knew he 
 could sing, she said, for " he looked as if he 
 could — he was fond of music — he had a sister
 
 GEAXBT. 101 
 
 that sung — he had just been at Italy — he was 
 always at the opera — she had heard him hum'^ — 
 and sundry other unanswerable reasons — all which 
 at length induced him to confess his powers. With 
 considerable exercise of neck and eyebrow, and 
 at very little expense of voice, he murmured out 
 a low husky '' second,"" perfectly inoffensive, but 
 not eminently useful. It excited no admiration, 
 and very little remark. Mr. Bennett indeed, 
 the new tutor, who was standing near ]\Ir. Tre- 
 beck at the other end of the room, ventured to 
 observe to him, that ^* singing piano was Mr. 
 Tarleton'sybr^^; '" for which piece of wit he was 
 rewarded with a look that ought to have annihi 
 lated him— a pun being, in Mr. Trebeck*s esti- 
 mation, the lowest pitch of mauvais ton. 
 
 Carohne contributed a few airs, but felt rather 
 alarmed, and was glad to stop ; and the occupa- 
 tions of the party took another turn. The 
 Duke began to want his whist ; Mr. Trebeck sat 
 down to piquet with the Duchess ; while Lady 
 EHzabeth lay on a chaise-longue by them, over-
 
 102 GRANBY. 
 
 Jooking her, and talking to him. Caroline soon 
 found herself included in a pool at Ecarte, 
 where she was much more engaged in looking 
 on than playing, and between the acts of which 
 desultory game she might listen to discussions 
 from the whist table on the odd trick, which 
 ought to have been saved, low tantalizing laugh- 
 ter from the trio at piquet, an indistinct gabble 
 in (he next apartment, and the click of billiard 
 balls two rooms off. 
 
 That we may not send the reader to sleep 
 by minutely detailing the tame transactions of 
 the evening, we will now take that liberty with 
 the whole of the party, and having supposed 
 them to have slept, risen, and breakfasted, will 
 break abruptly into another day.
 
 GRA\BY. 103 
 
 CHAP. VIIL 
 
 n y a des gens qui gagnent a etre extraordinaires ; ils vogucut, ils 
 einglent dans une mer ou les autres echouent et se brisent ; ils par- 
 viconent, en blessant toutes les regies de parvenir. — La BRLYEaE. 
 
 Caeoliue, upon that dispersion of the gentle- 
 men which generally ensues soon after break- 
 fast, began to see a little more of her cousins, 
 and underwent from them a long examination 
 upon her Hkings and disUkings, occupations and 
 accompHshments- The Miss Chftons were 
 good-humoured girls, not handsome, but of 
 pleasing manners, and sufficiently clever to keep 
 up the ball of conversation very agreeably for 
 an occasional half-hour. They were always au
 
 104 GRANBY. 
 
 courant du jour, and knew and saw the first of 
 every thing — were in the earliest confidence of 
 many a bride elect, and could frequently tell 
 that a marriage was " off," long after it had 
 been announced as " on the tapis," in the morn- 
 ing papers — always knew something of the new 
 opera, or the new Scotch novel, before any- 
 body else did — were the first who made fizgigs, 
 or acted charades — contrived to have private 
 views of most exhibitions, and were supposed 
 to have led the fashionable throng to the 
 Caledonian chapel, Cross-stieet, Hat ton Garden. 
 Their employments were like those of most 
 other girls : they sang, played, drew, rode, 
 read occasionally, spoiled much muslin, manu- 
 factured purses, handscreens, and reticules for 
 a repository, and transcribed a considerable 
 quantity of music, out of large fair print into 
 diminutive manuscript. 
 
 Miss Clifton was clever and accomplished ; 
 rather cold, but very conversible ; collected 
 seals, franks, and anecdotes of the day; and was
 
 GflANBY. 105 
 
 a great retailer of the latter. Anne was odd 
 and entertaining ; was a formidable quizzer, and 
 no mean caricaturist; liked fun in most shapes; 
 and next to making people laugh, had rather 
 they stared at what she said. Maria was the 
 echo of the other two ; vouched for all Miss 
 Clifton's anecdotes, and led the laugh at Anne's 
 repartees. They were plain, and they knew it ; 
 and cared less about it than young ladies usu- 
 ally do. Their plainness, however, would have 
 been less striking, but for that hard, pale, par- 
 boiled town look, that stamp of fashion, with 
 which late hours and hot rooms generally en- 
 dow the female face. 
 
 With these young ladies, in the course of the 
 morning, Caroline had a good deal of that light, 
 amusing, confidential chat, in which young fe- 
 male friends so liberally indulge, and drew 
 from them many a lively expose of the charac- 
 ters of their guests, and among others of Mr. 
 Trebeck; with which latter we shall take the 
 liberty of troubhng the reader in our own words. 
 f3
 
 106 
 
 GRANBY. 
 
 Vincent Trebeck was the only son of a gentle- 
 man of good family, and handsome, though not 
 large independent fortune, who had followed the 
 example of a long series of respectable ancestors, 
 in faithfully fulfilling the few and unobtrusive, 
 but honourable and useful, duties of an English 
 country gentleman. But the enterprising sub- 
 ject of our present narrative was early visited 
 with higher aspirations, and soon learned to de- 
 spise the undistinguishing praise of humble 
 utility. He was sent at an early age to Eton, 
 where he soon gained that precocious knowledge 
 of the world which a public school will generally 
 impart, even to the dullest comprehension, and 
 where his vivacious talents, well-assured confi- 
 dence, and ready address, always gave him a 
 considerable ascendancy over his associates. 
 From thence, with matured views of the art 
 of advancement, he repaired to Oxford ; and 
 never did any one glide with more ease and 
 rapidity from the blunt unceremonious "hail- 
 fellow-well-met" manner of the schoolboy, into
 
 GEANBY. 107 
 
 the formal nonchalance and measured cordiality 
 of the manly collegian. 
 
 Nobody carried farther that fashionable ex- 
 clusiveness which prescribes the narrow local 
 limits of gentility, and denounces all as Vandal 
 beyond its bounds. He immediately cut an old 
 school-fellow, because he had entered at a minor 
 college ; and discontinued visiting another, be- 
 cause he had asked him to meet two men of 
 
 Hall. He was a consummate tuft-hunter, with 
 an air of the most daring independence, to the 
 preservation of which he usually sacrificed a 
 friend a term. He systematically violated the 
 regulations of the collegiate authorities, and par- 
 ried their penalties with contemptuous cajolery. 
 He always ordered his horse at hall time; was 
 author of more than half the squibs that ap- 
 peared upon the screen ; and turned a tame 
 
 jackdaw into the quadrangle at in a pair 
 
 of bands to parody the master. 
 
 To the gracefulness of indolence, Trebeck 
 contrived to add the reputation of being able to
 
 108 GRANBY. 
 
 do a great deal, if he would but condescend to 
 set about it. He wrote one year for the Newdi- 
 gate prize : it is true he was unsuccessful, but 
 his copy was considered the second best ; and it 
 was even whispered among his friends, that he 
 would have succeeded if he had but taken the 
 trouble to count his verses. 
 
 The opening world now presented an ampler 
 field for the development of his talents. For- 
 tunately, at his outset he was taken up as a sort 
 of pet by some fine people, of whom he had tact 
 enough to make a convenient stepping-stone in 
 his fashionable nonage, and not too much grati- 
 tude to prevent him from neglecting them when 
 he began to move in a higher sphere, and found 
 it useful to assert his independence. 
 
 There are many roads to notoriety. Trebeck 
 began with dress ; but he soon rehnquished that, 
 as unworthy or untenable He scorned to share 
 his fame with his tailor, and was, moreover, 
 seriously disgusted at seeing a well-fancied 
 waistcoat, almost unique, before the expiraticm
 
 ghanby. 109 
 
 of its " honey-moon,"" adorning the person of a 
 natty apprentice. He sickened soon of ginng 
 names to cloaks, hats, buggies, and pantaloons; 
 and panted for a liigher pedestal than a coach- 
 maker's show-room, or a tailor's shop-board. 
 His coats and carriages were copied by others 
 almost as soon as they were exhibited by him ; 
 and as it was liis ambition to be inimitable, he 
 found it much better to shun these outward pe- 
 culiarities, and trust alone to the " nameless 
 grace of polished ease,'' which he really pos- 
 sessed in a remarkable degree. 
 
 He had great powers of entertainment, and 
 a keen and Hvely turn for satire ; and could talk 
 down his superiors, whether in rank or talent, 
 with very imposing confidence. He saw the ad- 
 vantages of being formidable, and observed with 
 derision how those whose malignity he pam- 
 pered ^nth ridicule of others, vainly thought to 
 purchase, by subsen-iency, exemption for them- 
 selves. He had sounded the guUibihty of the 
 world; knew the precise current value of pre-
 
 110 GRANBY. 
 
 tension; and soon found himself the acknow- 
 ledged umpire, the last appeal, of many discon- 
 tented followers. 
 
 He seldom committed himself by praise or 
 recommendation, but rather left his example and 
 adoption to work its way. As for censure, he had 
 both ample and witty store; but here too he 
 often husbanded his remarks, and where it was 
 needless or dangerous to define a fault, could 
 check admiration by an incredulous smile, and 
 depress pretensions of a season's standing by the 
 raising of an eyebrow. He had a quick percep- 
 tion of the foibles of others, and a keen relish 
 for bantering and exposing them. No keeper 
 of a menagerie could better show off a monkey, 
 than he could an " original." He could inge- 
 niously cause the unconscious subject to place 
 liis own absurdities in the best point of view, 
 and would cloak his derision under the blandest 
 cajolery. 
 
 Imitators he loved much ; but to baffle them 
 — more. He loved to turn upon the luckless
 
 GRAXBY. Ill 
 
 adopters of his last folly, and see them precipi- 
 tately back out of the scrape into which himself 
 had led them. 
 
 In the art of cutting he shone unrivalled: 
 he knew the "when," the "where," and the 
 "how." Without affecting useless short-sight- 
 edness, he could assume that calm but wandering 
 gaze, which veers, as if unconsciously, round the 
 proscribed individual ; neither fixing, nor to be 
 fixed ; not looking on vacancy, nor on any one 
 object; neither occupied, nor abstracted ; a look 
 which perhaps excuses you to the person cut^ 
 and, at any rate, prevents him from accosting 
 you. 
 
 Originality was his idol. He wished to asto- 
 nish, even if he did not amuse ; and had rather 
 say a silly thing than a common-place one. He 
 was led by this sometimes even to approach the 
 verge of rudeness and vulgarity ; but he had 
 considerable tact, and a happy hardihood, which 
 generally carried him through the difficulties 
 into which his fearless love of originahty brought
 
 112 GRANBY. 
 
 him. Indeed, he well knew that what would, 
 in the present condition of his reputation, be 
 scouted in any body else, would pass current 
 with the world in him. 
 
 Such was the far-famed and redoubtable Mr. 
 Trebeck,
 
 GRAMBY. 113 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Je conseus qu' une femme rit des clartes de tout , 
 
 Mais je ne lui veux point la passion choquante 
 
 De se rendre savaute afin d'etre savante ; 
 
 Et j'aime que souvent aux questions qu'on fait, 
 
 EUe sache ignorer les choses qu'elle sait ; 
 
 De son etude enfiu je veux qu'elle se cacLe, 
 
 Et qu'elle ait du savoir sans vouloir qu'on le sacbe, 
 
 Sans cker les auteurs, sans dire de grands mots, 
 
 £t donner de I'esprit a ses moindres propos.— Molif.i:e, 
 
 A VIOLENT snow-storm having driven the 
 gentlemen within doors, the dispersed paity 
 now began to reunite ; the sound of the billiard- 
 ball was again heard ; and the baffled sportsmen 
 began to intrude their rough incongruous shoot- 
 ing-dresses among silks and muslins. 
 
 Sir Thomas Jermyn was amused and kept quiet 
 •by the plans and estimates oi rejected alterations in 
 the house and grounds. Lady Jermyn was ex-
 
 114 GRANBY. 
 
 ercising her ingratiating tactics upon the Duchess, 
 by setting herself to learn of her Grace a new and 
 superior method of netting purses. Lady EHza- 
 beth Belasys was manufacturing some nick-nack 
 at a table by herself. Mr. Trebeck seated himself 
 near, pretending to help her, and they began a 
 lively, but not invariably good-natured review, 
 of several of their acquaintance ; among whom 
 they presently touched upon Mr. and Lady 
 Harriett Duncan, who were that day expected 
 at Hemingsworth. 
 
 " I like Duncan," said Mr. Trebeck, " he is 
 always a sensible fellow, and sometimes a pleasant 
 one. He is oddly suited in a wife, though per- 
 haps not altogether ill. Some people say he 
 never did a more fooUsh thing than when he 
 married Lady Harriett. I cannot say I think 
 so. Nobody acts foolishly in pleasing themselves 
 — and she is certainly an amusing piece of silly- 
 ness." 
 
 " Oh, I think," said Lady Ehzabeth, " sh^ 
 is absolutely charming — quite a grown up child,
 
 GRANBY. 115 
 
 Stopped short at the entertaining age — with her 
 simplicity, and her romance, and her Httle en- 
 thusiastic fancies ; and, above all, her blue- 
 stocking airs. The blue improves her wonder- 
 fully — there is not too much of it — it is such a 
 delicate hght aerial tint — just Hke that sky you 
 are washing in. Miss Chfton." 
 
 " You see her just as I do," said Trebeck, 
 " I delight in her, and all that belongs to her, 
 from Duncan down to her scrap-book and relic- 
 box. She invariably asks me to contribute to 
 both. She never could get me to wTite anything, 
 but I have contributed a rehc or two : some of 
 ray own hair, (pray don't tell her) which she 
 takes for Buonaparte's, and kisses night and 
 morning ; and the lid of a snuff-box, (a dis- 
 carded one of my great, great-grandfather) which 
 she verily believes to have been Prince Eugene's 
 Nothing is so pleasant as a little enthusiasm — 
 you can generally laugh at it, if you don't par- 
 tlike of it. By the bye, is it not rather amusing 
 to see the quiet, complacent way in which Dun-
 
 116 GRANBY. 
 
 can helps to shew her off? He will always join 
 with the best will imaginable^ in any trick you 
 may wish to play her. He is so used to amuse 
 himself with her innocent foibles, that he does 
 not see why others should not do the same." 
 
 " That is certainly liberal," said Lady Eliza- 
 beth, " and I dare say ycni find it very convenient. 
 Have you seen anything lately of his family, the 
 Allertons?'' 
 
 " I saw their Lordship and Ladyship last, on 
 their way to Cheltenham, in the Autumn, for 
 change of air ; looking outrageously healthy, and 
 both of them sadly hipped because they could 
 not think so. I went there soon afterwards, but 
 they were flown. I met there our friend the 
 Daily Advertiser — you know whom I mean — 
 Lady Gabbleton — and her ancient ally, Mrs. In- 
 gleton. I ought to tell you that Mrs. Ingleton 
 positively opens her matrimonial bazaar with two 
 new nieces and a cousin next season." 
 
 '' She is really inexhaustible," said Lady Eli- 
 zabeth, " but I'm afraid the supply rather ex^
 
 GEANBY. 117 
 
 ceeds the demand. Did you see any thing of 
 the new batch ?" 
 
 " Quite enough, I assure you ; and they make 
 me admire her courage more than ever, and 
 tremble not a little for her success." 
 
 " What ! even her success, who has succeeded 
 so often? Then they must indeed be hopeless 
 subjects ; for I know you have a very high opi- 
 nion of Mrs. Ingleton's ingenuity." 
 
 '' I had, but I retract it. She was playing 
 off her old artillery upon two or three very im- 
 practicable men, Cecil ; — Lord James Denbigh, 
 and of all persons in the world, Mr. TjTrelL" 
 
 '' Lord Malton's son .?" 
 
 " Yes, the same, late of the Guards — a fellow 
 that could not marry, even if anybody would 
 have him — almost as much a bankrupt in cha- 
 racter as in purse — a choice union of the Palais 
 Royal roue with the English blackleg." 
 
 While saying this, it did not escape the quick 
 eye of the speaker, that Caroline looked towards
 
 118 GRANBY. 
 
 him with apparent attention. " Do you know 
 the gentleman ?" said he to her. 
 
 *« Very slightly,**"' was her answer, " I have 
 only seen him once — he is a sort of relation.*' 
 
 " A distant one, I hope, for my own sake." 
 
 " Yes, quite distant." 
 
 " It is a relief to hear it. Then, with your 
 permission, I will not retract a syllable. It is 
 very inconvenient among the prudish many, of 
 whom Miss Jermyn assures me by her smile that 
 she is not one, to stumble upon relations of the 
 present company. Poor Catton ! I could not 
 help laughing the other day at his sudden rebuff 
 from Sir Henry Deerhurst. He was launching out 
 in his best manner against Lord Windermere ; 
 Sir Henry grew stiff, and grave, and angry ; and 
 just as Catton was proving the noble Lord an 
 ass, in the most satisfactory manner possible, 
 drew up and said, ' Perhaps you are not aware, 
 Sir, that the person you are abusing is my wife's 
 brother-in-law's half uncle .?' "
 
 GRAKBY. 119 
 
 " I think it was a very just rebuke," said 
 Miss Clifton, looking up from her drawing, *' for 
 confining his ridicule so i ifairlv to Lord Win- 
 dermere, when he might have extended it to the 
 whole of the family.*' 
 
 " I hope you except the all-accomphshed 
 daughters,*" said Trebeck. 
 
 " On no account ; I have no mercy upon 
 female pedants; and they are insufferable pe- 
 dants. They are so technical ! so professional ! 
 I could very generously have pardoned their 
 knowing a great deal more than myself, but their 
 manner of showing it was quite oppressive. To 
 hear them talk of music, for instance ! You 
 could not mention an air, but they either asked 
 you or told you what key it was in. They'll 
 talk to you about the ' chromatic colouring of 
 an arpeggio passage,' and a ^motivo in B flat 
 major modulating into D.' Then, a drawing 
 with them is always apropos of ' depth,' and 
 'breadth,' and ' catching lights,' and 'vanishing 
 points;' and— oh, it's dreadful — in one short — no.
 
 120 GEAXBY. 
 
 I beg their pardons — in one long week I was lec- 
 tured out of as much love for the arts as I had 
 laid up in the ten years preceding." 
 
 " You have really made out a very strong 
 case of unmerited suffering. It almost deserves 
 the attention of parliament. I think I shall call 
 upon Lord Daventry to second my motion, ^that 
 female accomplishments have increased, are in- 
 creasing, and ought to be diminished." " 
 
 Lord Daventry bowed dissent ; and assuming 
 a parliamentary tone, which was not widely dif- 
 ferent from his usual flourishing manner, said, 
 he should move as an amendment, that the word 
 "not'''' be inserted after the word " ought. ' 
 
 Lady Jermyn concurred with him in thinking 
 that there was no excess. Accomplishments, 
 she said, were expected in every young person ; 
 and therefore must be essential. Lady Daventry 
 saw no harm in any pursuit, provided it did not 
 injure the figure : she had, however, known 
 that effect result from drawing. 
 
 Trebeck seemed much amused at the discus-
 
 GRANBY. 121 
 
 sion. " Lady Daventry,'" he added, " what 
 would you say, if I were to tell you of a case 
 of deformity, solely produced by the use of a 
 double-action harp ? " 
 
 Lady Daventry looked as if she did not kno^v 
 what to say. Miss Chfton pressed him to name 
 his instance. " I could not think of it," said 
 he, '^ charity forbids. But I oppose accom- 
 plishments upon higher grounds, if possible. 
 The fact is, I have a great objection to works of 
 supererogation ; and female accomphshments are 
 quite of this description. ^liss Jermyn," said 
 he, turning to .Caroline, who was nearest to him, 
 " I am a confident person — I am going to take 
 it for granted that you agree with me."" 
 
 " I fear not," said she, " but I cannot be sure 
 till I have heard your reasons for calling them 
 so. Pernaps I may then become a convert." 
 
 '^ Without a doubt — for my reason is thisj-t 
 that you have all such a natural fund of agreeable- 
 ness, that any attempt to increase it is a shame- 
 ful expenditure of time and trouble, much to 
 
 VOL. I. a
 
 122 GRANBr. 
 
 be reprehended in these economizing days. 
 Now, are you of my opinion ?" 
 
 " I did not know," said Carohne, " how trea- 
 cherous you were, in asking me to agree with 
 you beforehand. I was not prepared for such a 
 comphment."" 
 
 " It is not worth having," said Anne Chfton. 
 *' Mr. Trebeck, you must be given to under- 
 stand that we accept only individual compli- 
 ments- Praise of the sex goes for nothing." 
 
 '' I solemnly assure you," said Trebeck, 
 '' that nothing was farther from my intention 
 than a comphment. Compliments are mauvais 
 ion — are not they, Lady Ehzabeth ? They 
 are quite obsolete — went out with hoops and 
 hair powder. Pray do not accuse me of wishing 
 to revive them. I was merely stating the simple 
 fact, that ladies spoil their natural gifts by load- 
 ing them with artificial ones. Those wha 
 have many accomplishments, are seldom so 
 pleasant as those who have few. They trust 
 too much to what they can do, and too little
 
 GEANBY. 123 
 
 to what they can say. I wish the thousand 
 shining qualities, which of course no lady can 
 ever be without, to appear at her tongue's end, 
 and not at her finger'^s." 
 
 " You wish her, I believe," said Anne Clif- 
 ton, " to play upon her acquaintance, rather 
 than her harp." 
 
 T rebeck bowed assent. 
 
 *' I am afraid," observed Caroline, '• the re- 
 sult of such playing is not often harmony.' 
 
 " Perhaps not,-' replied Trebeck, " but you 
 are aware, that discords in music are much in 
 vogue. You cannot think with what additional 
 effect a tart remark always comes from a fe- 
 male tongue. The effect, sometimes, is quite 
 electi'ical. Now occupation, and cultivation, as 
 they call it, tend to injure all this. Accomplish- 
 ments, and reading, divert the attention sadly 
 from passing events and the news of the day." 
 
 '' That,'' said Miss Chfton, " is ver>' bad. 
 Nobody is anybody that is not quite ' au cou- 
 rant dujour.' " 
 
 G 2
 
 124 GRANBY. 
 
 '' True,'' added Anne Clifton, " and the 
 worst of the Blues, is, that they seldom conde- 
 scend to scandal.'" 
 
 '* Except scandal of the worst kind,^ said 
 Trebeck ; " such as ripping up old grievances, 
 and speaking shamefully ill of the dead. I met 
 a Blue the other day, who was discussing the 
 Suffolk Letters, and Walpole's Memoirs, and 
 then went on to say paw-paw things of Lady 
 Mary Wortley Montague. Now, really, this is 
 quite atrocious. To attack a modern reputation, 
 is venial in comparison. Thank heaven ! with 
 all my faults, it cannot be said that I ever 
 slandered anybody''s great, great-grandmo- 
 ther." 
 
 " I acquit you, for one," said Lady Elizabeth 
 Bellasys, who had preserved a dignified silence 
 ever since the others had joined in conversation, 
 and who seldom addressed herself to any bu't 
 Trebeck ; " but I wonder how ^/ow should come 
 in contact with a Blue. They are a sort of 
 people one never sees. The only Blue of my
 
 GRAKBY. 125 
 
 acquaintance — and she is a Liglit Blue — is our 
 odd little friend Lady Harriet Duncan," 
 
 " I believe," said Anne Clifton, looking out 
 at the window, " our odd little friend is coming 
 now," 
 
 At this moment, a carriage was seen driving 
 up the approach. Doubts began to be agitated 
 about the colour of the livery, and the proba- 
 bility of their reaching Hemingsworth so early : 
 but the question of identity was in a few 
 minutes decided, by the announcement of the 
 parties themselves, and Lady Harriet, a sickly, 
 but rather pretty looking woman, followed by 
 her husband, glided in, with a step half languid, 
 half alert, between a walk and a run ; greeted the 
 Daventry family en masse ; began to answer 
 questions about herself, before they were asked ; 
 astonished the Duchess, by running up and 
 kissing her on the forehead ; called the Duke 
 '' a good creature," and set him laughing for ten 
 minutes ; nodded to Lady Elizabeth ; held out 
 her forefinger to the rest of the circle by way of
 
 126 GRANBY. 
 
 shaking hands ; told Mr. Trebeck that she 
 sliould not speak to him till he had made his 
 peace ; and then remembering that she was 
 tired, made the best of her way to a sofa, from 
 which she frequently started up with childish 
 eagerness, to ask if there were any letters for 
 her. Three were brought to her, which she was 
 in ecstasies at the sight of ; tore open one of 
 them, and throwing the others to Mr. Tarleton, 
 desired him to open them for her, while she was 
 reading the first. 
 
 " And read them ?" he asked, meaning to be 
 facetious. 
 
 " No, no — take them out of the envelope — 
 there — thanks — and give them to me." 
 
 She then read them eagerly to herself, with per- 
 petual half-whispered exclamations of joy, grief, 
 surprise, and laughter ; and afterwards burst out 
 in praise of her correspondents ; and when tired 
 of endowing them with '' every virtue under 
 heaven," got up, and began to tumble over the 
 books upon the sofa-tables, asking at the same
 
 GRAXBY. 127 
 
 time an infinity of questions, addressed to no- 
 body, about what they had or had not read, of 
 the thousand charming things that came out 
 *' the other day." She then set a French clock 
 playing upon the chimney-piece, and said, as she 
 wound it up, looking round at Lady Daventry, 
 '* If I spoil it, Tarleton can mend it for you ; 
 he has a genius for those things — he mended 
 one at Lady Kidderminster'*s.'^ After exhaust- 
 ing the tunes of the musical clock, she rang to 
 enquire if her bullfinch was brought in, " for I 
 want,"" said she, " to introduce him to you — he 
 is such a dear love — you shall hear him sing the 
 Ranz de Vaches." 
 
 The bird was brought, and sung his air with 
 variations, (considerable variations from the ori- 
 ginal) and was petted and praised to his admiring 
 mistress's heart's content; though to most of the 
 company, and especially to CaroHne, his mistress 
 herself gave much greater entertainment. 
 
 Caroline was much amused with Lady Har-
 
 1 28 GRANBY 
 
 riet. She had never before seen anythhig like 
 her ; and though led by the previous conversa- 
 tion to look for a character widely differing from 
 the rational generality, she was by no means pre- 
 pared for that diverting breadth of singularity 
 which she now witnessed in the little flighty 
 " minauderies'^ of this very original lady. Her 
 surprise and amusement were still increased, 
 when, on being introduced to Lady Harriet, she 
 shook her warmly by both hands, saying, " I 
 think I shall like you— if I don't I'll tell you— 
 you will like me, I know — new people always do/' 
 She then began to talk to her with great seeming 
 interest, and asked her in the course of conversa- 
 tion, (probably with a view of sounding her ca- 
 pacity,) a multitude of very uncommon and un- 
 connected questions ; " Whether she believed in 
 craniology ?*" " Whether she could improvvisare 
 in Italian?'' "Whether she had studied the theory 
 of apparitions?" "Whether she considered music 
 to be « the food of love ?^" " What perfume she
 
 GKAXDY. 129 
 
 was most partial to?" and, ''What was her 
 opinion of Mr. Perkinses new invented steam- 
 engine ?'"* 
 
 Amused as Caroline Nvas with so singular a 
 person, and engaged in a conversation which 
 embraced so wide a circle of important subjects, 
 it is not wonderful that she should have bestowed 
 a very small portion of her attention upon ^Ir, 
 Duncan. She could only perceive that he was a 
 gentlemanly man, and had said nothing hitherto 
 that was either odd enough to stare at, silly 
 enough to smile at, or clever enough to be worth 
 repeating. But as this is almost all you can ever 
 say, after half an hour's acquaintance with ninety- 
 nine "gentlemanly men" out of an hundred, the 
 result, though not interesting, was perfectly sa- 
 tisfactory. 
 
 G 3
 
 ISO GRAXBY. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 " Vou» vouler, 'Acis, me dire qu'il fait froid ; que ne disiet.voas, il 
 fait froid ? Est-ce un si grand mal d'etre entendu quand on parle.et d« 
 parler comme tout le monde ? Une chose vous manque ; c'est I'esprit } 
 ce n'est pas tout ; il y a en vous une chose de trop, qui est, I'opinion d'en 
 aToir plus que les autres ; voila la cause de votre pompeux galimatbias, 
 de vos phrases embrouillics,et de vos grands mots qui ne signillent rien. 
 
 La Bruvere. 
 
 The dinner-table this day received the far- 
 ther addition of a personage who was, at any 
 rate in his own opinion, a very important one. 
 Lord Chesterton, son of the Earl of Banbury, 
 was a solemn, heavy, pompous, formal, pedantic 
 young man, deeply impressed with his own 
 consequence, but not at all skilled in the art 
 of impressing others with it. In society he 
 was a long aiid frequent talker, and flattered
 
 GRAND Y. 131 
 
 himself that he was entertaining. He gav« 
 his opinions gravely, and authoritatively. 
 
 ** As who should say, ' I am Sir Oracle, 
 And whea I ope my mouth, let no dog bark.* " 
 
 Periphrasis (next to Catachresis) was his 
 favourite figure of speech ; but he did not 
 indulge in fanciful circumlocution, or flowery 
 metaphor. His was heavy ampUfication — down- 
 right circumbendibus — the genuine eloquence of 
 " gentle dulness." If he wanted to ask you, what 
 news ? he enquii'ed, " whether the paper of the 
 day presented any article of more than ordinary 
 interest and importance ;" when he would 
 enquire of a lady, if she were tired with her 
 ride, he '* hoped she had experienced no very 
 considerable accession of fatigue from the prc- 
 tracted length of her equestrian excursion ;"' 
 when he wished to observe that it was finer to-day 
 than it was yesterday, he said, " a considerable 
 amelioration had evidently taken place in the
 
 V62 GRANBY. 
 
 aspect of the weather, during the lapse of 
 twenty-four hours." — But enough, we are 
 becoming infected ourselves: in one word, 
 he was a proser ; a character which, as it 
 strengthens with our growth, and is more pecu- 
 liarly the failing of age, is least tolerable in a 
 young man. 
 
 This person very soon manifested a dispo- 
 sition to bestow much of his tediousness upon 
 Miss Jermyn. Independent of the powerful 
 attractions of youth, beauty, elegance, and good 
 humour, she possessed, in his eyes, many nega- 
 tive recommendations to his notice. She was not, 
 like the Miss Cliftons, addicted to quizzing; 
 he did not stand in awe of her, as he did of 
 Lady Elizabeth Bellasys ; and she was less 
 talkative, more rational, and much more intelli- 
 gible than Lady Harriet Duncan. Her youth 
 gave her a preference to the more matronly 
 part of the company ; for Lord Chesterton, 
 though not much versed in small talk, and 
 " the little attentions,'' and though the style of
 
 GfiANBY. 133 
 
 his conversation was better suited to steady 
 ladies, of a " certain age/' yet he maintained 
 as an axiom, that persons of the same age ought 
 to associate, and thought it always incumbent 
 upon young gentlemen, to render themselves 
 agreeable in the eyes of young ladies. He 
 therefore devoted himself to Caroline, with an 
 assiduity which, though very gratifying to 
 Lady Jermyn, was absolute penance to its 
 unfortunate object. Caroline, in her simpli- 
 city, viewed him only as a bore ; Lady JermjTi, 
 in her wisdom, viewed him only as Lord Ches- 
 terton, and smiled, and bridled, and tried to 
 look grave, and indiiFerent, and " let things 
 take their natui'al course," and peeped now 
 and then out of the corners of her eves, and 
 turned away her head, and pretended not to 
 overhear the honied words that dribbled from 
 the lips of the prosy Lord ; while poor Caro- 
 line sat, with a much enduring ci\-ilitv of face, 
 sighing inwardly, and assenting outwardly to 
 
 %
 
 184 GRANBY. 
 
 the pompous truisms which he so elaborately 
 announced. 
 
 The next day witnessed tlie departure of the 
 Duke and Duchess, and their daughter, — hap- 
 pily not until Lady Jermyn had finished her 
 purse, and Sir Thomas had begun to excite the 
 jealousy of Mr. Rigby, by his favour with the 
 Duke ; in fact, they had made such successful 
 advances in the good opinion of the Duke and 
 Duchess, that their Graces, who were perfectly 
 good natured, and disposed to be pleased, 
 expressed, with more than usual sincerity, their 
 hope of seeing them when they came to town, 
 and left Lady Jermyn consoled by this pros- 
 pect, for her early loss of them, just as her 
 acquaintance was beginning to ri2:en into perfect 
 intimacy. 
 
 " Bon voyage,^'' said Mr. T rebeck, as the 
 Ducal party disappeared from their view from 
 tlie drawing-room windows ; " upon my honour, 
 I like that family ; they relieve each other so
 
 GKAXBY. 135 
 
 admirably well ; the Duchess and her daugh- 
 ter especially ; they are a capital contrast 
 —oil and vinegar; together with the substan- 
 tial Duke, and the pungent Mr. Rigby, they 
 would make up an excellent family salad. 
 Don't you adore the Duchess, Lady Har- 
 riet ? — • dear, good, civil, little woman ! 
 when one tells her the most abominable false- 
 hoods, she thanks one so sweetly for ?/«deceiv- 
 ing her ! By the bye, I am soiTy for the poor 
 Duke ; he loses his pocket handkerchief at 
 Bath." 
 
 " What do you mean ?'"* said Lady Jerm}Ti, 
 who felt much interested in what concerned 
 them. 
 
 "His right-hand man,'' said Mr. Trebeck. 
 
 " What, his valet ? his gentleman ?" 
 
 " Gentleman ! really Lady Jennyn you arc 
 too severe. God forbid I should so miscall 
 him^ — No, I was speaking of Mr. Rigby.'' 
 
 *• Dear ! poor Mr. Rigby ! why do you dis- 
 like him, Mr. Trebeck ? He seems an excellent
 
 136 GRANBy. 
 
 sort of man. The Duke says — he was telling 
 Sir Thomas, only yesterday — was it yesterday ? 
 —yes, it was yesterday — he was telling Sir 
 Thomas that he was quite a treasure ; he should 
 not know what to do without him/' 
 
 " That I can easily believe," said Trebeck ; 
 " but you must not misunderstand me — I admire 
 him exceedingly I think he has many rare qua- 
 lities— he has a greatdeal of confidence, without 
 a grain of pride ; he has perfect subservdency, 
 without any unnecessary formality; and he cer- 
 tainly possesses the art of flattering, without the 
 least appearance of fawning; he has a bold, rough, 
 honest style of toad-eating, which I humbly 
 conceive to be very near perfection ; I like his 
 blunt thorough-going manner of doing it. As 
 Charles Temple said, in his metaphorical way, 
 ' He is a man that butters his bread with a 
 bill-hook;" 
 
 " You are using one yourself, I think," said 
 Mr. Duncan; " you have hacked him down 
 manfully — and we are the more obliged to you
 
 GKANBY. 137 
 
 for this expose, as you don't often stoop to such 
 small deer. It is not every body, Trebeck, to 
 whom you vouchsafe the honour of an attack ; 
 you are generally select, even in your enmities." 
 
 " Thank you for the compliment — I conclude 
 it is meant for one, though I cannot exactly 
 make out how ; unless you allow me to take the 
 converse, and say, that if J am select in my 
 enmities, I am extensive in my friendships."" 
 
 " You don't expect me to grant that ?*" 
 
 " Not exactly : nobody does grant it ; for in 
 fact, nobody understands me ; I am not a diffi- 
 cult person to please — I flatter myself that I 
 mix well \r\\h people in general — If there is any 
 thing I pique myself upon, it is upon having a 
 little dash of the cosmopolite, being a sort of 
 imsophisticated person, ready to join in with all 
 the odd humours of every class, both high and 
 low." 
 
 " Pardon me there," said Duncan, "you 
 can humour oddities as well as any body, 
 but I don't think you are tolerant to the quiet
 
 1 38 GRANB Y. 
 
 generality — I think I have observed, that your 
 list of supportable people is rather a contracted 
 one.'' 
 
 " Why, of course," said Trebeck, " there 
 a?'e persons one wishes to avoid— a man, for 
 instance, who commits a forgery, or a pun — or 
 asks twice for soup — or goes to private balls in 
 Town on a Wednesday. These are offenders 
 one should be sorry to associate with ; but as to 
 the quiet, decent, orderly mass, who have no 
 such crimes as these to answer for, nobody is 
 more ready to exchange a nod, or a ' how dCye 
 do,' or give them two fingers to shake, than 
 myself." 
 
 " I am glad to hearyou disclaim fastidiousness," 
 said Duncan, " and I wish to Heaven you would 
 try to explode it ; in my opinion it is one of the 
 most prominent blots in the manners of the day." 
 
 " Oh, I agree with you perfectly. There 
 certainly is a horrid deal of vile counterfeit 
 finery afloat — a most disgusting affectation of 
 hauteur and uppishness. Society is becoming
 
 GBANBY. 139 
 
 one huge oyster-bed, every one entrenched in 
 his own stiff clumsy shell of coldness and conse- 
 quence. If there is one thing on earth I hate 
 more than another, it is to see your stupid, in- 
 significant people, trying by dint of solemnity, to 
 make themselves both clever and important; 
 affecting to stand aloof from those who would 
 only honour them too much by their society ; 
 creatures who don't condescend to be agreeable, 
 because in fact they have nothing to say. In 
 short, its quite the national characteristic." 
 
 " It is perfectly true," observed Mr. Tarle- 
 ton. " I am only just returned from Italy my- 
 lelf. We have a horrid bad character for pride, 
 and finery, and all that. The two marks by 
 which they tell an Englishman, are, white pan- 
 taloons, and a stiff neck." 
 
 '' It shews their discernment,**' said Mr. Tre- 
 beck. "It is impossible to doubt the fasti- 
 diousness of a being that wears a stiff black stock 
 and a pair of white trow^sers. But really," said 
 he, addressing himself to Mr. Duncan, " if we
 
 140 GRANBY. 
 
 are anywhere to give ourselves airs of exclusive- 
 ness, and step daintily and pick our way, it 
 surely is abroad. I should advise a friend who 
 was going abroad, to cut every countryman, 
 right and left, and go well provided with intro- 
 ductions to foreigners." 
 
 <' That was Catton's plan,'** said Mr. Dun- 
 can. " Did you hear of his adventure at Flo- 
 rence ? He went there with a letter of introduc- 
 tion to a Conte di I really forget the 
 
 name — but no matter. As soon as he got to 
 Florence, he went, as a man of taste should, 
 straight to the Gallery ; and in going in, swing* 
 ing his body, (you know his way) and flou- 
 rishing his stick, as he always does, he rapped 
 on the nose the poodle of an Italian gentleman 
 who was coming out. Catton, instead of apo- 
 logizing, bestowed a curse upon the dog. The 
 Itahan made use of ' cos petto' and ' bestia,' 
 which Catton very properly applied to himself, 
 and demanded an explanation. Neither well 
 understood the other — higli words ensued —
 
 GEANBY. 141 
 
 cards were exchanged — and the Italian turned 
 out to be the Marchese di somethmg. Cat- 
 ton soon began to consider that he could not 
 fight a duel without a second ; lie had not yet 
 discovered any acquaintance, but he had his 
 letter of introduction to the Count; and an 
 Italian second, he thought, would do just as well 
 as an English one. So he went to him, letter in 
 hand, thinking, by the way, how he should 
 bring in his request — made his bow, and was 
 going to deliver it, — when he found he was ad- 
 dressing his foe the Marchese. The fact was, 
 the Conte had lately changed his title. The 
 thing was too ridiculous : the mistake put them 
 both into perfect good humour, and they 
 finished the business by breakfasting together 
 about the same time that they were to have 
 fought." 
 
 " Well done, Catton ! He is an inexhaust- 
 ible blunderer; one of the curious in contre- 
 temps; he seems to be wrong-headed by in- 
 stinct, as FalstafF was valiant. — But, talking of
 
 1 42 (iKANBY. 
 
 travelling, whom did you fall in with on your 
 last trip." 
 
 " I can give you a long list of names — but 
 very few are worth mentioning. We met at 
 Milan with two pleasant young men,— Mr. 
 Courtenay, Lord Essenden's grandson, and his 
 friend, a Mr. Granby, a relation, I believe., of 
 Lord Malton's. But to balance the account, 
 our friend Baron Crackendorf stuck to us like 
 a leech, and did the honours of every thing vi- 
 sitable. He was no favourite of your's, Har- 
 riet;' 
 
 " I cannot say that he was. He was a heavy 
 person,'' said Lady Harriet, languidly, " and 
 has very little mind, and is an unmerciful 
 talker. Oh, Mr. Trebeck, you cannot think 
 what he made me suffer.'"' 
 
 " I think I can imagine it, as I have the 
 misery of knowing him. He is considered the 
 most powerful proser on the Continent." 
 
 " They used to call him at Spa, the West- 
 phalian Bore," said Duncan.
 
 GBANBT. 145 
 
 " I hope, Sir, you endeavoured to cure him,'' 
 said Mr. Bennett, who had long stood ready to 
 edcre in a pun. 
 
 Mr. Duncan good-humouredly laughed. 
 Trebeck seemed unconscious that anybody had 
 spoken, and continued, " and where did this 
 being fasten himself upon you ?'''' 
 
 " At Florence,'' said Lady Harriet ; " and a 
 tyrannical physician conspired to keep us with- 
 in his clutches. He absolutely would not let 
 me travel — talked of nervous debiHty, and I 
 don't know what — forbad Rome — that was cruel- 
 lest of aU— said a great deal (I believe very well) 
 about Malaria ; but I was too much provoked 
 to admire his lecture. I don't see what right 
 physicians have to be so despotic. But Duncan 
 supported him in all he said ; so that I really 
 thought we never should have got to the ' eter- 
 nal city.' But when after all we did get 
 there" 
 
 " Your ladyship," interrupted Mr. Bennett,
 
 144 GRA\^BY. 
 
 who had been smirking and wriggling during 
 the last half minute, in all the agonies of a pent- 
 up joke ; " your ladyship, if I mistake not, was 
 questioning the compulsory right and authority 
 of the physician. Permit me to suggest, that 
 doubtless he enjoys that right by prescription.''^ 
 Lady Harriet nodded and smiled, but looked 
 as if she did not take ; Trebeck took, but did 
 not smile; Mr. Duncan did both. 
 
 '' All this is a parenthesis," said Trebeck ; 
 " but when, after all, you did arrive, you were 
 going to say that you were enraptured, I sup- 
 pose ?" 
 
 " No ; disappointed — shockingly disappointed 
 — every thing so new, and yet so old — ^you un- 
 derstand me ? — I mean , every thing was so mo- 
 dern, and so like what one had been used to; 
 and the people — very worthy, but not intellec- 
 tual ; and then they have no enterprise. I 
 wanted to set on foot an excavation, and not a 
 soul would hear of it. Oh, they think of no- 
 thing but taking airings, and siestas, and eating
 
 GEANBY. 1-45 
 
 ice ; and they pestered you with their cards, as 
 they might have done in town. The ver^' 
 second day, I found ' Mrs. Somebody at home"* 
 upon my table. Only conceive ! — ' at home I' in 
 Home! I regretted nothing when I left it, but 
 the Coliseum, and the dear Pope." 
 
 " Where is your Italian sonnet, Harriet?" 
 said Duncan. 
 
 " I have several, you know ; which of them 
 do you mean ? that on the Pope's slipper, or 
 the Malaria, or the unknown Statue, or the 
 dead calf in the Campo Vaccino ?" 
 
 '' The first,'' said he. 
 
 '*' I don't know — I believe I have mislaid it 
 Ah, Mr. T rebeck, I thought I should have 
 written a great deal at Rome. I had just read 
 Corinna with intense interest, and was prepar- 
 ing to be inspired by the genius of the place. 
 But I don't know how it was — I felt paralyzed. 
 I believe it was owing to the unnatural con- 
 trast between the vestiges of antiquity and the 
 reaHties of modern life. No — no — it did not 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 GRANBY. 
 
 interest ^e as it should have done. After all, 
 I know but three truly touching spots; — Vau- 
 cluse, Ermenonville, and the burial ground of 
 Pere la Chaise. Oh ! that last was a sweet, sweet 
 place ; there is such a pensive prettiness about 
 it. To me it was quite a moving scene ; did'nt 
 you admire it ? did'nt you feel it ? And some 
 of the inscriptions — oh I so lovely. There wa^ 
 one particularly — what could it be ? — but 
 never mind — I shall think of it presently. Do 
 you know I was quite angry with Duncan. 
 He did not like it, and he gave such odd rea- 
 sons ! He said it was in rather a frippery taste, 
 and that he did not like the conversion of a 
 burial ground into a fashionable lounge. Wasn't 
 it so ?" 
 
 " I believe it was," said Mr. Duncan, " and 
 I'm afraid if you were to ask me, I should say 
 so again."" 
 
 ** Tm sure I shall not ask you then ; for I 
 don't wish to hear you say anything so horrid. 
 But I must look for the inscription— I have got
 
 GRANBY. 147 
 
 it in my album. And now I think of it, do 
 Mr. Trebeck, be a good creature, and write me 
 something clever and original; see, here is a 
 blank leaf left on purpose for you.'' 
 
 " I can only assure you,"*"* said Trebeck, '* that 
 I would if I could ; but really I have not yet 
 discovered any genius for extempore effusions. 
 However, I shall be happy to leave you an im- 
 promptu in my will, if you will not object to 
 that mode of receiving it ?''"' 
 
 ''Oh, I shall like it ten times better ; there 
 will be something so new in a posthumous im- 
 promptu. Well now," continued she, running 
 on from one thing to another — " what have 
 you been reading lately.? Are you fond of 
 poetry ? By the bye, do you know Christabel ?^'' 
 
 " I never saw it — what is it about ?^'' 
 
 " About ? oh ! it's about — I don't know— I 
 cannot exactly describe it — but do read it — it's 
 singularly original, and shews a delicate sense 
 of the beauty of things. — Well — and do you like 
 sonnets .-*" 
 
 H 2
 
 148 GRAN BY. 
 
 *' Of all things. I wrote one once on a lady''s 
 eve-brow — a fruitful theme you know with son- 
 netteers ; and I can safely say that mine is the 
 best extant on that subject." 
 
 " Now I hardly know whether you are 
 joking or not. I think not — you look so 
 serious. But do tell me your favourite novels, 
 I hope you like nothing of Miss Edgeworth's 
 or Miss Austen'*s. They are full of common- 
 place people, that one recognizes at once. You 
 cannot think how I was disappointed in North- 
 anger Abbey, and Castle Rack-rent, for the 
 titles did really promise something. Have you 
 a taste for romance ? You have ? I am glad 
 of it. Do you like Melmoth ? It is a harrow- 
 ing book. Dear Mrs. Radcliffe's were lovely 
 things — but they are so old ! But then there are 
 'Valperga,'' 'Pour et Centre,' dear 'Inesilla5'and 
 — oh ! there are many more — I have not near done 
 yet" — (Trebeck gave a side look of dismay.) 
 " Do look at Peter Schlemihl and Le Renegat, 
 and the Devil's Elixir, and Helen de Tour-
 
 GRANBY. 149 
 
 non — oh ! I dote u}X)n that last — ' et les voltes 
 deVegUse veipeterent, jamais, — '" solemnly cast- 
 ing up her eyes. 
 
 " My dear Lady Harriet, what are you 
 talking about ?" said Trebeck. 
 
 " Oh ! I forgot — perhaps you have not read 
 it. It ends so. Well, and do you know Ger- 
 man ? You must learn it if you do not ; and 
 read Goethe in the original. And now do tell 
 me what you have ever written yourself Are 
 you sure you are not the ' Hermit in London ?' 
 you are not ? Nor the ' Hermit in the Coun- 
 try.?"* Well then, are you the ' Amateur of 
 Fashion'' who T\Tote those books from Long's 
 and Stevens's ? Are you not really ? Oh ! I^m 
 sure you have written something— you are 
 so very satmcal. Tell me — do tell me, and 
 i'U keep it such a secret ! did you ever put 
 naughty things into the John Bull ?'"' 
 
 " Upon my honour. Lady Harriet," said 
 Trebeck, starting up, " you are a very dan-
 
 150 GRANBY. 
 
 gerous person. This scrutiny is too much for 
 me." 
 
 " Ah ! guilty — guilty — you dare not answer 
 my last question. I'm perfectly satisfied, and 
 now don't come near me, for I'm going to 
 read."
 
 GRAXBY. 151 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 He has so pestered me with flames and stuff, I think I sha'n't 
 endure the sight of a fire this twelvemonth. 
 
 CoNGBEVE.— r/ie Old Bachelor. 
 
 The hours rolled on, and Lord Chesterton 
 continued his assiduities with such encreasing 
 pertinacity, that before the end of another day 
 t^aroline had begun to reproach herself for en- 
 tertaining a very unchristian feeling, as she really 
 felt that she almost hated him ; and his offences, 
 considering their flattering and not unamiable 
 cause, seemed scarcely to deserve such deep dis- 
 pleasure. She allowed within herself, that all he 
 did and said was exceedingly well meant, and 
 that she ought to be grateful for such unremit- 
 ting attention; but perhaps this effort to feel
 
 152 GRANBY. 
 
 obliged to him only made the matter worse. He 
 certainly was provo kingly persevering. At table, 
 at the instrument, riding, walking, sitting, play- 
 ing, he was always near, always assiduous, al- 
 ways tedious, always unwelcome. But so well 
 did she dissemble her dislike, and suppress her 
 yawns, and smoothe her brow, and look placid 
 and pleasing, and consequently pleased, that no- 
 body seemed at all conscious that the homage of 
 her admirer was in the least degree unwelcome. 
 But there was one person, who, though he 
 seemed as unconscious as the rest, not only 
 accurately read every feeling of distaste which 
 arose in her mind, but even interested himself ir^ 
 her situation, and diligently, though unobtru- 
 sively, laboured to alleviate and divert the little 
 annoyances to which she was thus singularly 
 exposed; and this person was one of all others 
 the most unlikely so to act, for it was no other 
 than Mr. Trebeck. That he, with his natural 
 quickness, should have understood her feelings, 
 was not at all surprising ; but that^he should have
 
 GRAXBY, 153 
 
 interested himself at all about her, or taken any 
 trouble to alleviate her persecution, — this was in- 
 deed a subject for wonder, and this she felt at 
 first sonie difficulty in believing. But her in- 
 credulity was soon dispelled, by a conversation 
 which he took an opportunity of introducing, the 
 first time he found her alone ; in which he gave 
 her so exact a picture of her own sentiments, 
 and talked over her feelings and opinions on this 
 delicate subject with so much discernment, frank- 
 ness, and playful good-humour, that she could 
 not either deny or conceal the truth of a single 
 syllable he said; and strange and awkward as 
 was the topic for a young lady to discuss with a 
 gentleman of whom she knew so little, yet there 
 was such a mixture of plainness and delicacy, 
 friendliness and intelligence, in his manner and 
 language, that she knew not how to ^vithhold the 
 confidence which he exacted, or reject his offers 
 of co-operation. Besides, she had been hitherto 
 taught to hold him in such awe, she was so con- 
 founded by his unexpected language, and found 
 H 3
 
 154 GBANBY. 
 
 him so thoroughly in possession of her thoughts, 
 that she dared not utter a word of contradiction 
 or demur, and considered herself too much at 
 his mercy to have any course left but acqui- 
 escence. 
 
 Nor did she owe her conviction to words alone. 
 She soon became sensible of many little expe- 
 dients thrown ingeniously in her way, for saving 
 her from the wearing fatigue of too much atten- 
 tion ; amusements started, to supply her with an 
 excuse for change of place and occupation ; dis- 
 cussions entered into with Lord Chesterton, 
 which a look from Trebeck would clearly inform 
 her, were incurred solely on her account; and 
 diversions thrown in his way, which but for the 
 same silent, but expressive testimony, might 
 have been considered as dictated by no other 
 motive than civility to him. 
 
 These attentions were so delicate, so unobtru- 
 sive, so indirect, and at the same time so useful, 
 that she could not but feel obliged to the person 
 who paid them. Mr. Trebeck had from the
 
 GRANBY. 155 
 
 first paid lier very little outward attentiqii, less, 
 perhaps, than to any other lady in company, and 
 no difference was now perceptible. Though he 
 contrived to make Caroline fully sensible that 
 his thoughts were frequently occupied with her, 
 nobody in their company ever suspected that he 
 stooped from his height to bestoAv anv but the 
 most trivial notice. When he did address her, 
 (and it was rarely that he did so) he trifled with 
 the same condescending indifference, the same 
 air of mock deference, and civil superiority. 
 
 Carohne was glad that it was so, and that his 
 newly awakened interest was not accompanied 
 with any change of manner ; for sinking as she 
 was under the oppressive notice of one admirer, 
 she would have been quite overwhelmed had she 
 at the same time felt that she was the marked 
 object of the more flattering attentions of Mr. 
 Trebeck. Flattering they certainly were; as 
 flattering as they seeaied extraordinary. ]Mr. 
 Trebeck ! the fastidious, the indifferent, the self- 
 sufficient, the all-courted, all-neglecting gentle-
 
 156 GRANBY. 
 
 man, whom she had hitherto looked upon with 
 so strange a mixture of awe and curiosity— that 
 he should glide at once into the attentive friend, 
 the careful confidant ! it was certainly more than 
 she, in her modesty, could possibly account for 
 by any merits of her own. She sometimes feared 
 that his secret end was merely ridicule ; but then 
 she reflected that he must indeed be possessed 
 with a strange love of laughing in his sleeve, if 
 he could so sedulously pursue so poor a joke, 
 without any accomplice to share in the amuse- 
 ment. Besides, she could not perceive that any 
 of his manoeuvres could have other objects than 
 her gratification; and he seemed at the same 
 time particularly careful to attach no needless 
 ridicule to Lord Chesterton. He gave her con- 
 i^tant opportunities of admiring his address in 
 devising means for her dehverance, either by 
 informing her of the motions of the enemy, or 
 by throwing diversions in his way. Whenever 
 she began to be tired of being talked to, Mr. 
 Trebeck was always at hand, either to take the
 
 GJlAyBY. 1 57 
 
 part of listener on himself, or to start something 
 new to supersede the necessity. 
 
 The next morning, as Lord Chesterton was 
 showing a strong disposition to be more than 
 usually prolix, Trebeck, after first catching Caro- 
 line's eye, broke up the lecture by making his 
 poodleperform some laughable tricks, and divert- 
 ing the attention of the company to the beauty of 
 his dog. " Come here, Polisson, come and shew 
 yourself. Is not he magnificent ? Look at these 
 tufts. I had him shorn by the best tondeuse in 
 Paris. Lady Harriet, I'll give you her di- 
 rection." 
 
 " Oh ! thank you. How handsome he is ! 
 He must be quite a treasure."" 
 
 " Oh, invaluable. When Polisson dies I shall 
 steal for him Lord Byron's epitaph on his New- 
 foundland dog. Then I shall say, with my hand 
 on my heart, (speaking of my friends,) ' I never 
 had but one, and there he lies,'' " pointing to the 
 dog, who was stretched upon the hearth-rug. 
 
 " You shocking person !" said Lady Harriet.
 
 158 GRANBY. 
 
 " Those sweet lines ! I know you are laughing 
 at them. But you have no feeling." 
 
 " I thought," said he, " I was showing a 
 great deal." 
 
 " Oh, no, no ; you are quite incorrigible :" 
 and then she went on to talk about sympathy, 
 and sensibility, and standards of taste ; and Lord 
 Chesterton had resumed both his seat and his 
 subject ; and Trebeck, finding that some other 
 attack became necessary, after a little confiden- 
 tial whispering with Lady Harriet, came up to 
 him, saying, *' Chesterton — Miss Jermyn, — 
 excuse the interruption. I am come from the 
 sofa, on a special mission. Your Lordship is 
 found guilty of being a poet." 
 
 '^ I," said his Lordship, " upon my honour — ^' 
 
 " Oh, ay — I understand all that — ' your mo- 
 desty's a candle to your merit — it shines itself, 
 and shews your merit too' — Don't disguise 
 it. It is not your fault if ' the gods have made 
 you poetical.* Lady Harriet charges me, 
 ' who am no orator, as your Lordship is,' to say
 
 GRANBY. 159 
 
 every thing that is proper and persuasive, and 
 to inform you from her, that she has a blank 
 leaf in her album which is dying to be filled — 
 (Is that correctly worded, Lady Harriet ?) — 
 dying to be filled by an offering from your 
 pen. 
 
 Lord Chesterton bowed, and hemmed, and 
 shrugged, and shook his head, and exhibited an 
 interesting picture of amiable perplexity. 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Trebeck, in a whis- 
 per^ *' for God's sake don't refuse ; if you do, 
 she will come upon me. Give her some of your 
 best nonsense — you can whip up an elegant 
 trifle in no time. Anything will do for her : 
 but I need not talk of that to you, who have 
 good things always at your command." 
 
 Caroline distinctly heard this whisper, though 
 Lady Harriet did not, and she was not a Httle 
 amused by the simple gulhbility of his Lord- 
 ship, who, after a tedious exhibition of becoming 
 diffidence, retired to a bow-window, paper in 
 hand, and began casting up his eyes, knitting
 
 J 60 GRAIJBY. 
 
 his brows, and drumming upon his chin, with a 
 golden pencil, in all the agonies of reluctant 
 inspiration. Caroline was truly happy in seeing 
 him so employed, and sincerely hoped that the 
 unpropitious Muse might long detain him ; 
 while Trebeck, with a short glance of much 
 meaning, plainly told her that he understood 
 her thoughts, and that his principal object had 
 been her deliverance. 
 
 Trebeck had now stayed a week at Hemings- 
 worth — an honour which Lord and Lady Da- 
 ventry had not anticipated when he first conde- 
 scended to give them his company. This day, 
 immediately after the receipt of his letters, he 
 informed them, that as he was prevented by 
 ckcum stances from visiting a friend to whom he 
 had intended to go, he proposed, with their 
 permission, to prolong his visit a few days 
 more, and then go with Lord Chesterton to join 
 a shooting party at the Duke of Ilminster's. 
 They very gladly closed with the offer, for 
 Trebeck was an entertaining inmate, and by
 
 GRANBY. 161 
 
 remaining with them he was conferring a favour 
 which he seldom allowed to any but a dis- 
 tinguished few ; rightly judging, that the eclat of 
 his character would be somewhat sullied, if he 
 were often to expose it to the rude test of that 
 familiar intimacy, which is nowhere so little 
 avoidable as in the society of a country mansion. 
 Caroline was not vain enough to imagine that 
 she was instrumental in influencing his stay; 
 but she was rather glad to find that she should 
 see more of him ; for he was an useful ally, and 
 an entertaining companion, and the little vanity 
 which she did possess was gratified by his 
 notice. Yet she did not like him, and often 
 wondered by what fatality it should have come 
 to pass that a sort of confidence should exist 
 between them ; as he was decidedly the last 
 person to whom she would voluntarily entrust a 
 secret, and whom she would dare to rely on as 
 a friend. There was a heartlessness in his 
 character, a spirit of gay misanthropy, a cynical, 
 depreciating view of society, an absence of
 
 \. 
 
 162 GRANBY. 
 
 high-minded generous sentiment, a treacherous 
 VOTsatility, and deep powers of deceit, to which 
 not all his agreeable qualities and fashionable 
 fame could effectually blind her. She was also 
 struck with some inconsistencies in his conduct ; 
 his affectation of independence, contrasted with 
 his slavish method of appreciating persons acr 
 cording to their reception in certain sets ; and 
 his uncompromising arrogance, viewed together 
 with those petty arts of flattery and finesse to 
 which he daily had recourse. With his talent 
 for playing with the foibles of others she had 
 been much amused ; but it was an amusement 
 which, as she felt that it was connected with 
 unamiable feelings, she generally reproached 
 herself for enjoying. It was a talent which she 
 saw him frequently display, and to which the 
 visits of the neighbouring country families, who 
 came occasionally for a single night, gave fre- 
 quent opportunities. Most of these, if persons 
 of elegance and information, in whom he could 
 find out nothing to quiz, he merely treated
 
 GEANBY. 163 
 
 with repulsive coldness ; but if they exhibited 
 any broad traits of coarseness, ignorance, and 
 rusticity, he instantly assumed an air of cor- 
 diality, and did his best to draw them out.
 
 164 GRANBy. 
 
 CHAP. XI I. 
 
 It is meat and drink to me to see a clown. By my trotb, we that Lave 
 good wits have much to answer for: we shall be flouting ; we cannot 
 
 hold. — ^As YOU LIKE IT. 
 
 " We are going to have two of our country 
 neighbours to dine with us to-day, Mr. Tre- 
 beck," said Lady Daventry, one morning, in a 
 soft and apologetic tone ; " excellent people, 
 I assure you, though quite homely — not at 
 all people of the world ; but very passable, good 
 creatures. We thought you would excuse it. 
 They always dine here every year. One is 
 obliged, you know, to do those things in one's 
 own immediate neighbourhood, that one should 
 never think of doing in town."
 
 GEANBY, 165 
 
 " I cannot really allow you to apologize," 
 said Trebeck. " You are doing me a favour. 
 They are the very people I wish to meet. I 
 want to fall in with a native or two ; it im- 
 proves one's knowledge of natural history. ' It 
 is peculiarly advantageous,'' as Chesterton would 
 say, ^ to extend one's familiarity with the pro- 
 ductions of the soil.' " 
 
 " You speak of them," said Anne Clifton, 
 " as if they were vegetables." 
 
 " I beg their pardons," said Trebeck ; " but 
 I dare say they have vegetated long enough to 
 deserve it. But, Lady Daventry, I hope they 
 are originals. Are they vulgar ? Do they talk 
 broad shire, and eat with their knives ?^ 
 
 " I don't know — I think not — though it is 
 almost two years since I have seen them. But 
 they really are not particularly odd — they are 
 excellent people, I assure you."" 
 
 " Oh, I believe it every bit. But I had much 
 rather thev were odd."
 
 166 GRANBr. 
 
 " It is rather new," said Anne Clifton, " to 
 see you patronize provincial oddities." 
 
 " Oh, you don't know me — I like them ex- 
 ceedingly now and then. You may depend 
 upon it. Lady Daventry, there is nothing so in- 
 tolerable as well-bred dulness. Give me vul- 
 garity — broad unsophisticated vulgarity — good 
 homespun characters, with all their natural 
 mould on, bristling all over with native rusticity." 
 
 " Well ! I am sure I thought you would 
 not have liked them," said Lady Daventry. 
 
 ^* Then, I have the high satisfactioii of un- 
 deceiving you ; but what are their names ?" 
 
 " Hawkins — Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins.*" 
 
 " And what is he ?" 
 
 " Oh, why he is a — I hardly know — it is dif- 
 ficult to describe people — he is a country gentle- 
 man ; I believe, too, he is a bit of an agricul- 
 turist.'' 
 
 *' Ah, I think I understand the sort of per- 
 son," said Trebeck; " curious in turnips,
 
 GRANBY. 167 
 
 knows the points of a pig, and can set you right 
 on the state of the markets. And what kind of 
 woman is she ?" 
 
 " A quiet civil creature— rather dull, per- 
 haps — but I do not at all dislike her. Lord 
 Daventry calls her a * Becky.' I don't know 
 exactly what he means, but, I suppose, it is no 
 compliment." 
 
 " Not a very high one. Pray, have the 
 Duncans ever seen these people." 
 
 " I think not. They have never met them, 
 here I am sure." 
 
 " Nor Sir Thomas and Lady Jermyn ?" 
 
 " No — never." 
 
 " Then pray don't say anything about them 
 to Lady Harriet, and ask Daventry, when you 
 see him, to be equally silent."" 
 
 " Well, I will. But what mischief are you 
 going to do ?"" 
 
 " Nothing that deserves so harsh a name ; 
 only the most benevolent experiment in the
 
 ]68 GRANBY. 
 
 world. I want to cement an eternal friend- 
 ship between Ladj Harriet and Mrs. Hawkins.*" 
 
 The Miss Cliftons burst into a loud laugh. 
 
 " What an idea !'" said Lady Daventry : 
 " Well ! now I am sure you cannot be serious."" 
 
 '' Yes, I am— remember your promise, and 
 leave me to manage the preliminaries." 
 
 Lady Harriet soon afterwards entered the 
 room. Trebeck immediately began to talk to her, 
 and presently contrived to bring the conversation 
 round to the Hawkins's. " An interesting 
 couple, Lady Harriet. He is quite another Sir 
 Roger de Coverley ; and she is what one so 
 eternally looks for and seldom finds — a natural 
 character — perfectly natural — and yet not one pf 
 those insipid specimens of which one seems to 
 understand all the excellencies at once ; but I 
 think I may say, profoundly natural — without 
 disguise, and yet requiring patient study in 
 order to discover her bright points. Now this I 
 call a desirable acquaintance."
 
 GRANBY. 169 
 
 " I long to see her,"' cried Lady Harriet, 
 *• when shall I see her P"^ 
 
 " This evening." 
 
 " No ! shall I ? I'm quite delighted. My 
 dear Lady Daventry, I am so much obliged to 
 jou for asking her to meet me !'' 
 
 The Miss Clifton s scarcely suppressed a 
 ^ggle. Trebeck looked at Lady Daventry, to 
 prevent her from answering. 
 
 " Do tell me more about her/' said Lady 
 Harriet. " Is she of a sportive turn ?" 
 
 " I really hardly know whether she shines 
 most in displaying wit herself, or appreciating 
 it in others. But her humour is of a grave 
 kind. You probably may not at first discover 
 it. The truest kind of wit, they say, is that 
 which raises only a smile: now, her's is pre- 
 cisely of that description.'' 
 
 '• I care very little about her wit," said Lady 
 Harriet. "Women have no business with ^vit or 
 humour. It is not their province : it only spoils 
 them." 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 GRANBy. 
 
 " I am perfectly of your opinion," replied Tre- 
 beck, "but you will not think she has too much. 
 Perhaps, also, you will not discover that she is a 
 little — a little too romantic. I am well aware of 
 your penetration, but I do not think you will find 
 it out." And then followed a whimsical dispute : 
 thelady assuringhim that she should certainly con- 
 vict Mrs. Hawkins of romance, and Trebeck with 
 pretended earnestness maintaining the contrary. 
 
 Punctually at six did the Hawkins's arrive ; 
 she, a quiet, simple-looking woman, whom no 
 description would enable our readers to distin- 
 guish from ten thousand other ordinary persons; 
 he, a hale, blunt, artless soul, full of hearty good 
 humour, but loud in speech and ungainly in 
 deportment. At first he was rather stiflp and 
 silent, as if a little out of his element ; but he 
 soon became * himself again'; compared his 
 family repeater with the French clock in the 
 saloon, and chuckled at the superior correctness 
 of the former; began to inveigh with much 
 spirit against the shameful state of a rutty cross-
 
 GRAKBY. 171 
 
 road which they had to traverse in their way 
 thither ; and then got to farming, and gave due 
 praise to Lord Daventry's baihfF, but told his 
 lordship that he thought he did not keep stock 
 enough. 
 
 ''What is sock?' said Trebeck, with a 
 demure face of modest ignorance. 
 
 " What is stock ?" said Mr. Hawkins 
 promptly, desirous to inform his querist. 
 " Why I'll tell you as well as I can. Stock 
 stands for many things in the way of farming. 
 Stock stands for cattle — I don't mean horses, 
 though they call them cattle now and then. 
 Oxen are stock — sheep are stock — " 
 
 " And pigs, Sir; are they stock ?"" said 
 Trebeck, in a humble, hesitating tone. 
 
 " Pigs ! why no — I don't know what to say to 
 pigs ; I have not much acquaintance with them." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Trebeck, with an air of sur- 
 prise. He then prepared to put fresh queries, 
 and draw out his companion further ; but see- 
 ing in the faces of some of his audience strong 
 i2
 
 172 GRANBY. 
 
 symptoms of a disposition to laugh, and fearful 
 lest his play should seem too broad, he pru- 
 dently refrained for the present, and politely 
 thanking Mr. Hawkins for his information, 
 \ralked away to watch the success of his practices 
 upon the romantic simplicity of I.ady Harriet. 
 
 From the first entrance of Mrs. Hawkins, she 
 had regarded her with great curiosity and in- 
 terest; thought there was something piquant 
 even in her want of polish ; took her stupid 
 placidity for the " repose of talent ;'' thought it 
 indicated " depth of character," and expected to 
 discover under the " impassive ice' of this 
 lady''s exterior, a glowing current of hidden 
 fire. She took an early opportunity of entering 
 into conversation with her, and after a little 
 trivial introductory small talk, launched eagerly 
 into a higher sphere ; and taking up an Italian 
 book which lay upon the table, asked her 
 whether she believed that Petrarch's Laura was 
 a real personage. 
 
 Mrs. Hawkins had never heard of Petrarch'^s
 
 GRAN BY. 173 
 
 Laura, but as she did not wish to confess more 
 ignopance than was necessary, she thought to 
 compromise the matter, by pleading guilty to 
 the minor offence, and therefore said that she 
 had '•' never seen her." 
 
 "Never seen her!" thought Lady Harriet, 
 ** she was not very likely to have seen a person 
 who, if she ever did live, must have been dead 
 these four hundred years.''' 
 
 On second thoughts, however, she regarded the 
 reply as a stroke of humour, and in this idea she 
 v/as confirmed by Trebeck, who interposing, 
 added, "Seeing is believing, you know. Mrs. 
 Hawkins means to convey, that so doubtful is 
 she of the existence of Petrarch'*s Laura, that she 
 could hardly credit it, unless she were to see her." 
 
 " She lives in our hearts at any rate,'** said 
 Lady Harriet, with a sigh ; " but do you really 
 think she lives no where else ?^' 
 
 " I don't know," said Mrs. Hawkins ; and 
 she added, with an air of interest unusual in her,
 
 174 GRANIiY. 
 
 " but I hope she does, if she is an acquaintance 
 of your Ladyship's." 
 
 " So," thought her Ladyship, " she is caustic 
 and satirical ; I begin to understand her charac 
 ter." She then dropt Laura, and according to 
 her custom of starting subjects in succession as 
 dissimilar as possible, she presently asked her 
 what she thought of the new method of incuba- 
 tion by steam. If she had said " hatching," all 
 would have been right; but when she had to 
 choose between a scientific phrase and a common 
 one, she almost invariably used the former. Now 
 Mrs. Hawkins did not know the meaning of the 
 word " incubation ;" and it so happened that 
 the last apparatus connected with steam, which 
 had ccme under her observation, was a patent 
 steam kitchen. Her mind running instantly to 
 this, she rather rashly concluded, that "incuba- 
 tion"" was only another term for " cookery;" 
 and promptly replied, that she believed it did 
 not answer.
 
 GRANBY. 175 
 
 *' Really ! you surprise me ; but how so ?" 
 said Lady Harriet. 
 
 " It does not do things well," was the reply. 
 
 " Things ! do you mean chickens ?"" 
 
 " Yes — chickens — or anything." 
 
 '' I thought," said Lady Harriet, *' chickens 
 had hitherto been the only things tried, though 
 I believe there was an idea of making the ex- 
 periment upon an Ostrich's egg."*' 
 
 " Are those good to eat .^" asked Mrs. Haw- 
 kins, with a stare. 
 
 " I really do not know. Perhaps they are. 
 But you said, it did not do things zoell — how 
 not well ?" 
 
 " It gives them a taste," said Mrs. Hawkins. 
 
 "A taste! for what.?" 
 
 Mrs. Hawkins stared, for she did not com- 
 prehend the question, and after a moment's hesi- 
 tation, simply answered, " I don't know ; but it 
 does not answer much better for vegetables." 
 
 *' Hatching vegetables !" said Lady Harriet, 
 half aloud, and looking puzzled in her turn.
 
 176 GKANBT. 
 
 *' Steam quickens the growth of plants," said 
 Trebeck, aside ; and then, fearful of a pre- 
 mature disclosure of Mrs. Hawkins's ignorance, 
 he prevented further* discussion, and mutuai 
 eclaircissement^ by beginning to talk of some- 
 thing else. 
 
 Lady Harriet returned to her charge, though 
 not to her subject, and wishing to elicit the 
 sweet spark of romance which Trebeck had said 
 would escape her penetration, she began to ques- 
 tion Mrs. Hawkins whether ^r^^ loves ought to 
 be perpetual ; and whether want of constancy to 
 an early passion were more excusable in man or 
 woman. " Mrs. Hawkins," said she, " what 
 is your opinion ?'^ 
 
 Mrs. Hawkins shuffled about in her chair, and 
 simpered and looked down, and at length said, 
 she thought it was " much of a muchness.'''' 
 
 Lady Harriet's countenance evidently shewed 
 that she did not comprehend this phraseology, 
 and Mrs. Hawkins, seeing that she was expected 
 to elucidate, obligingly added, " Some people
 
 GRANBY, 177 
 
 say one thing, and some people say another, 
 just according to their own fancies, but I think 
 it is all one.''' 
 
 " Mrs. Hawkins's style," said Trebeck, with 
 great politeness of manner, " is very diplomatic : 
 she does not commit herself;*' and then turning 
 away his face, so as to be seen only by Ladv 
 Harriet, he added in a low tone, with a 
 grave mysterious expression, '• she has her 
 reasons." 
 
 *' What reason s ? how? why? tell me,'' said 
 Lady Harriet softly, but eagerly. 
 
 " Another time,"' said Trebeck in a whisper ; 
 and Lady Harriet went to dinner, v.ith the de- 
 lightful idea that Mrs. Hawkins was the interest- 
 ing object of an unfortunate attachment. 
 
 Meanwhile it was equally admirable to see 
 how Trebeck had won upon the husband ; and 
 the tone of instruction, and air of dictation 
 which the latter assumed, and the foi-mer en- 
 couraged. Poor Mr. Hawkins's totally mistaken 
 view of the character of his companion, almost 
 % i3
 
 178 GRAN BY. 
 
 discomposed the gravity of many of the com- 
 pany, however little it affected that of its inge- 
 nious contriver. Trebeck drew out his man 
 upon several topics ; played him up and down 
 stream, as an angler does a trout ; got him at 
 last to town ; had excellent sport in extracting 
 his wild notions upon London life and man- 
 ners; enjoyed his recommendation of snug 
 places for lodging and dining, which he would 
 not have approached within half-a-mile ; was in 
 raptures at dinner, when asked to drink wine, 
 and good-humouredly desired to "name his own 
 liquor : " and his delight was at its height, when 
 kindly pressed, before parting in the evening, to 
 " put up" at Sedgeley Hall, before he left the 
 country, and "eat a bit of mutton mth him ;" 
 and by all means to call upon him, if they hap- 
 pened to be in town at the same time, and take 
 a chop at the Salopian Coffee House. 
 
 Caroline's keen and lively sense of the ridi- 
 culous, was strongly at war with her better feel- 
 ings of kindness and propriety, during the whole
 
 GEANBY. 179 
 
 of this evening; but the latter happily so far 
 prevailed, as to raise a conviction that Mr. Tre- 
 beck, however entertaining, was not a person in 
 whom she could place the slightest confidence, 
 or for whom she could feel the smallest portion 
 of esteem. She also felt some little anxiety 
 about the strange understanding which subsisted 
 between them, and which she ardently desired if 
 possible to terminate. 
 
 Circumstances which occurred the following 
 evening, tended not a little to strengthen this 
 wish. After dinner she sat down to the instru- 
 ment, to play an air from memory; an open 
 music book stood before her ; in an instant the 
 assiduous Lord Chesterton was at her side, and 
 at the same moment Trebeck advanced and ex- 
 tended his arm, as if to turn over the leaf of her 
 music book, and then suddenly drawing back 
 and checking himself, resigned, wdth a bow, that 
 place and office to Lord Chesterton, and coming 
 round, leaned upon the piano-forte opposite to 
 Caroline, fixing his eyes upon her with a look of
 
 180 ORANBY. 
 
 peculiar meaning, which at first she did not 
 comprehend. Somewhat abashed at being so 
 gazed at, she cast down her eyes, and Lord 
 Chesterton thinking that she had got to the bot- 
 tom of the page, took the hint, and turned over 
 the leaf. Caroline looked up for the purpose of 
 undeceiving him, but in doing this her eye met 
 the quick, penetrative glance of Trebeck, which so 
 completely fixed and arrested her, that she felt 
 quite unable at the instant to say what she in- 
 tended, and looking down again, went on me- 
 chanically with her air ; and presently another 
 leaf was turned over. Caroline, though rather 
 amused, did not quite like to be made a princi- 
 pal in this trick, innocent as it was, and again 
 looked up, that she might release the young 
 Lord from his superfluous office ; but she was 
 once more met by Trebeck's forbidding eye, and 
 felt Anne Clifton's hand upon her arm, and vras 
 again persuaded by this double injunction to 
 sufPer his Lordship to depart, in the persuasion 
 that he had gracefully rendered an acceptable
 
 GEANBY, 181, 
 
 service. Unluckily, at this moment, she heard 
 Lady Jermyn's voice behind her. " Caroline ! 
 Caroline ! Lord Chesterton is very good, I'm 
 sure, — how can you Jet him turn over those 
 leaves for you ? You are not playing out of 
 that book, you know. She is so absent ! Thank 
 vou my Lord, pray don't trouble yourself; it 
 is only an air from memory.'' 
 
 Lord Chesterton drew up and coloured ; the 
 Miss Cliftons could not restrain a laugh ; Caro- 
 line was going to apologize, when Trebeck pre- 
 vented her, by saying promptly, '* All my fault, 
 I assure you, Lady Jermyn— Chesterton you 
 saw through it all, I'm sure, and only shammed 
 ignorance, to humbug me in my turn."" 
 
 Lord Chesterton was weak enough to fall into 
 this trap, and admit that, in fact, he " did enter- 
 tain a considerable suspicion, almost amounting 
 to certainty, of the little stratagem v/nich was 
 intended to be practised;" upon which Tre- 
 beck, with a satisfied smile directed to the rest 
 ©f the company, took him by the arm, and led
 
 182 GEAXBT. 
 
 him off m a confidential manner into another 
 room. What passed between them, CaroHne 
 could not tell, but they soon returned, his Lord- 
 ship with unruffled brow, and Trebeck with his 
 usual easy air of self-satisfaction. The latter 
 soon entered into conversation, and appeared to 
 exert himself to be entertaining more than he 
 usually condescended to do ; told many good 
 things of " my friend such-a-one ; " ripped up a 
 good deal of private history; followed an ac- 
 quaintance to Paris ; got to the French theatre ; 
 talked of their petites comedies ; mentioned the 
 old story of the Abbe de TEpee and his dumb 
 El eve, which was turned into an interesting 
 little afterpiece ; went from thence to Abbe Si- 
 card, and the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, 
 and their mode of talking with their fingers ; and 
 then carelessly inquired, if any of the company 
 could practice that method of conversation. 
 " Miss Clifton ? Duncan ? Lady Harriett ? Ches- 
 terton 't nobody skilled in this noble art "^ Oh ! 
 Mis* Jermyn, perhaps you are .^"
 
 GRANBY. 183 
 
 Miss Jermyn was. She had told Miss Clif- 
 ton so the morning before, and she thought 
 within herself, that Mr. Trebeck might possibly 
 have remembered it, for she believed she told it 
 in his hearing. 
 
 " Oh!'" said Trebeck, " you are an adept in 
 this silent mode of conversation. And which 
 method is it your pleasure to use ? the English, 
 or the French .'^" 
 
 She said—" The Enghsh." 
 
 " The English one ? ah — I knew them both 
 once, and now I believe I can practice neither. 
 I am afraid I scarcely know my letters. IVIiss 
 Jermyn, will you act the governess, and see 
 your pupil say his alphabet ?" and then with a 
 ludicrous imitation of the manner of a child 
 who was going to say his lesson, he spelt u|X)n 
 his fingers the words, '* Do 7iot ride to-morrow 
 Chesterton joins the party to HadUyy "Is that 
 right?'* said he, when he had finished his sen- 
 tence. Caroline only nodded assent. 
 
 ^' Your manual alphabet," observed Miss Clif-
 
 184 GRANBY. 
 
 ton, " seems to consist of more than four and 
 twenty letters." 
 
 "Ah! — you forget the diphthongs," said 
 Trebeck. 
 
 " Diphthongs? what are there signs for them 
 too? what are they?" pursued his troublesome 
 querist. 
 
 Caroline knew there were no such signs, and 
 trembled for Trebeck ; but he with great rea- 
 diness and unconcern immediately invented 
 some ; and took good care to direct the con- 
 versation very soon into a different chgwinel. 
 
 Caroline was rather provoked at him for his 
 conduct. She had, hitherto, felt obliged by his 
 delicate and unobtrusive attention ; but this 
 evening gave her a double cause for displeasure. 
 In the first place, she was angry with him 
 for entrapping her into a scheme for amusing 
 themselves at Lord Chesterton's expence; a 
 scheme which she did not think quite in 
 accordance with the retiring modesty which 
 became her youthful character. She was also
 
 GEANBY. 185 
 
 angry with herself for yielding; and part of 
 this displeasure, as is usual in such cases, fell 
 to the lot of her partner in the offence. Then, 
 why have recourse, with such laborious inge- 
 nuity, to so circuitous a method of communicat- 
 ing what was of little consequence, and what he 
 might so easily have told her, unobserved, in the 
 course of the evening ? Why bring himself un- 
 necessarily into a dilemma, from which he could 
 be extricated only by falsehood ? Did the arrogant 
 Mr. Trebeck, even for his amusement, stoop to 
 equivocation ? or did he perhaps think, that his 
 adroitness sanctioned his deceit? She could 
 not account for his behaviour, unless he was 
 vain of such petty address, or perhaps, (and 
 the thought glanced suddenly across her mind), 
 he wished to ensnare her by a forced participa- 
 tion in secret stratagems, and make her feel 
 that she was under his control, and effect a de- 
 gree of confidential intimacy, from which she 
 shrunk at the very thought. She had also 
 blamed herself for allowing him to assume so
 
 186 GRAKBY. 
 
 much the air of a confidant, though in fact 
 she knew not how she could have avoided it. 
 However, she was now determined to resist, and 
 as actions were more forcible indications of 
 the intention than words, she resolved to de- 
 spise his warning, and join the party on the mor- 
 row to Hadley, though she should thereby 
 incur an additional portion of Lord Chester- 
 ton's society ; and with this, resolution she 
 retired to rest. 
 
 But the best resolutions often fail. Her's 
 was very excusably abandoned ; for she rose 
 next morning with a head-ache, and the heat 
 of her displeasure towards Mr. Trebeck was 
 so far abated, that she did not think it worth 
 her while to brave on his account the rigours of 
 a raw uncomfortable day : nay she even began 
 to think that it would be making him of too 
 much consequence, to be influenced by him, 
 either one way or the other ; and would, 
 therefore, maintain her independence by doing 
 exactly as she felt inchned. She was, however,
 
 GEANBY. 187 
 
 rather annoyed, on declining the excursion at 
 breakfast, by the fear lest he should suppose 
 that she had so acted in obedience to his injunc- 
 tions ; and was sumraoning a look which should 
 convey all this, when she perceived that she 
 might spare herself that trouble, as he did not 
 seem to be thinking about her. 
 
 Though reheved from the pain of having her 
 motives falsely estimated, she felt a little morti- 
 fied, she scarcelyknewwhy, at this instance of inat- 
 tention. The party dispersed — Mr. Trebeck, she 
 heard, was to join the riders — Lady Daventry 
 and Lady Jermyn were gone to pay a morning 
 call ; and she, finding the saloon quiet and 
 vacant, took a book, established herself in the 
 warm comer of a sofa, and sat down with the 
 pleasing prospect of an undisturbed morning, 
 in all the comfortable self-indulgent langour of 
 slight indisposition.
 
 188 GRANBT. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 1 am much sorry. Sir, 
 You put me to forget] a Lady's manners 
 By being so verbal ; and learn now, for all. 
 That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce 
 By^the very truth of it, I care not for you, 
 
 Cyhbelinb. 
 
 Caroline had not been long in the saloon 
 before somebody entered. It was Mr. Tre- 
 beck. " I thought," said she, laying her book 
 down, " you had gone out riding." 
 
 *' I changed my mind," said he, rather sig- 
 nificantly ; '* but where are all the ladies ?'' 
 
 " Mamma and Lady Daventrj are gone to 
 Claverton; they were talking about it, if you 
 remember, at breakfast ; and Miss Clifton, and
 
 GEANBT. 189 
 
 Anne, and Maria, are riding ; and Lord Ches- 
 tertx)n, and Mr. Duncan, with them ; and Lady 
 Harriet is gone to her room with a, new novel ; 
 and now, I believe, I have told you all {he 
 arrangements for the morning."" 
 
 " Are you sure Lady Harriet is not in the 
 music room ?" said he, and going to it, shut 
 the farther door which opened to the staircase, 
 and returned, leaving the nearer one a-jar. Ca- 
 roline was surprised at this precaution. *' I was 
 mistaken," said he, returning, " and you are 
 right — it is a disagreeable day, and Fm glad 
 I did not join the riding party." 
 
 " But the Miss Cliftons will not thank you 
 for deserting them." 
 
 *' Oh— I shall make my peace with them. 
 Besides, they have Duncan and Chesterton — 
 poor Chesterton! he'll give them an edifying lec- 
 ture on the picturesque. I dare say he has 
 already quoted Price, Repton, Gilpin, and heaven 
 knows what besides, to each of them — depend 
 upon it, they can do very well without me.
 
 J 90 GEANBY. 
 
 But I'm afraid the fact is that I am wanting 
 in attention to ladies — I mean generally. I 
 beheve, if the truth were known, I am consi- 
 dered a sort of woman-hater." 
 
 " You are not drawing an amiable picture 
 of yourself, but still you might have said worse ; 
 for I believe that hatred is considered by our 
 sex more pardonable than indifference.'*' 
 
 " Very true ; but unfortunately, the word * in- 
 difference' is much more applicable to my case. 
 It is in fact, my fault — I am indifferent. Ay, 
 you look incredulous ; but so it is. I can talk, 
 laugh, and philander, and keep up a little silly 
 persiflage, with the thousand pretty nonentities 
 that one meets in society ; but it is mere habit, 
 or mere idleness ; they excite no interest, and 
 they seem to know it. And then the stuff! 
 good heavens ! the mere stuff they are flattered 
 and amused with ! I am sometimes quite out 
 of the habit of talking sense : and why should I 
 talk it, when they are contented with an easy 
 substitute .'' In fact, I talk like a reasonable
 
 GBANBT. 191 
 
 being only to those few who do excite some 
 interest." 
 
 " Excuse me," said Caroline, " as I am going 
 to be very impertinent. I will not be so presump- 
 tuous as to set myself up as a defender of my 
 sex ; but I really cannot think that you were per- 
 fectly serious in what you have just been saying."'' 
 
 " You may fairly suspect me ; it is so seldom 
 my case to be so. But I was serious ; or if you 
 cannot believe this, at any rate," said he, seating 
 himself by her, " I will be. I have said that 
 your sex in general does not interest me; but 
 did I say that no one ever could ? No, I could 
 not say that, for I cannot feel it. I am no rhap- 
 sodist ; but I have formed in my mind a stand- 
 ard, which is but too seldom even approached ; 
 and that is the cause of my general indifference. 
 But ask yourself, Miss Jermyn, whether there 
 is no lady from whom my thoughts hardly ever 
 wander ; whose looks I can read ; whose slightest 
 wishes I can guess, and I flatter myself am not 
 unsuccessful in trying to anticipate ? Yes, there
 
 192 GRANBY. 
 
 is one lady whom I have often endeavoured to 
 protect from an annoyance of a very pecuhar na- 
 ture, but to which she of all others will ever be 
 most liable, — the annoyance of unwelcome admi- 
 ration. But, perhaps,'' (added he, with a sigh) 
 " she is subject to it still, and I have only changed 
 the tormentor, without removing the evil." 
 
 '' I will not," said she, colouring, and speak- 
 ing with forced composure, " pretend to mis- 
 understand you. You are alluding to Lord 
 Chesterton. Certainly his attentions were un- 
 welcome, and I ought, I suppose, to be obliged 
 to you for your diversion of them. But you 
 must be aware, that any such step on your part 
 was utterly uncalled for and unexpected by 
 me." 
 
 " And is it laid to my charge as a crime, 
 that I voluntarily lent my services in a case, 
 where I knew, that however required, they 
 never could be asked ? Do you blame me for 
 anticipating your wishes ?" 
 
 " My wishes, Mr. Trebeck T
 
 GRAKBY.- 193 
 
 *' Excuse the word — call them what you 
 will — ^your sentiments — ^your — "" 
 
 " I beg your pardon — I only meant to say, 
 that you are really taking for granted more 
 than I ever expressed ; and indeed you have 
 somehow or other drawn me into a sort of under- 
 standing — a collusion — a confidence into which 
 I think I ought not so readily to have fallen." 
 
 " Do not blame yourself for what was un- 
 avoidable. We cannot always bestow our con- 
 fidences when and where we choose. There are 
 minds which think and feel ahke, and will con- 
 fide in each other in spite of themselves. There 
 is a sort of mental free-masonry, a secret sym- 
 pathy between some people ; and this I flatter 
 myself has been our case." 
 
 " I do not know," said she, hastily, a httle 
 alarmed at the course the conversation was 
 taking, and gaining a desperate courage at the 
 same time, '* but allow me to say, that I think 
 you were principally influenced by a love of ridi- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 GRANBY. 
 
 cule, and the desire of amusing yourself at 
 Lord Chesterton's expense." 
 
 *' Principally influenced !" said Trebeck with 
 an air of astonishment, " and by that ! you 
 must not so totally misunderstand my motives. 
 Can you suppose that the paltry pleasure of 
 teazing and thwarting that poor creature Ches- 
 terton, could have any weight with me one 
 instant. My dear Miss Jermyn, you have only 
 to reflect one little moment on your own charms 
 and perfections, and you will be well aware, 
 that there was an object more than worthy of all 
 my labours." 
 
 " I cannot," swd she, much confused, and 
 making a desperate eflbrt to change the subject, 
 *'I cannot much approve of personal ridicule; 
 and I do not think it at all commendable to 
 draw others into absurdities for the sake of ex- 
 posing them." 
 
 Trebeck gave a hasty glance at her agitated 
 countenance, and prudently following her lead.
 
 ghaxby. 195 
 
 calmly replied, '' Ridicule, you know, haa been 
 said, by many wise people, to be the test of 
 truth ; I do not know with what correctness ; 
 but, you see, at any rate, I have authority for 
 using it ; and as for bantering the unwary, — I 
 assure you I always keep people in agreeable 
 error, upon the most humane principles. But 
 you think this is trifling, and I see you don't 
 like it. I will be serious. Your observations 
 have struck me ; and I wish to know your sen- 
 timents more thoroughly, and to learn of what 
 points of my character you chiefly disapprove ; 
 for I fear — nay, 1 am sure, that you do in fact 
 disapprove of some." 
 
 '' I have no right, Mr. Trebeck, to make 
 myself the judge of your conduct and charac- 
 ter. It would be very presumptuous, and I 
 really have no wish to assume such a privilege.''* 
 
 " You do not assume it — it is I who give it 
 
 you ; and I give it with pleasure : surely I may 
 
 bestow that power on whom I please. Ah ! you 
 
 will not speak — but I know what you think 
 
 k2
 
 196 GRANBY. 
 
 of me. You think me cold, and selfish, arid^ 
 frivolous, and worldly, and incapable of warm 
 and constant attachment. You do — you do — 
 you cannot deny it; — but you do not know 
 me, and few, if any, do. I am not what I 
 seem." 
 
 " And why are you other than what you 
 seem ? Why do you disguise your real charac- 
 ter, and act a part .?" 
 
 " Why.?" said Trebeck, with a significant 
 smile ; '* Miss Jermyn, allow me to be explicit, 
 and say to you what I have never said to 
 human being yet, and never, perhaps, may say 
 again. What are the pretensions with which 
 the proudest people in the land invest the 
 humble individual who addresses you ? Ask 
 any — ^all— of your exclusive aristocrats, whether 
 my suffrage does not exalt their fashionable 
 fame. Ask their Graces of Jlminster, if they 
 would dare to shrink from an equality, or if 
 even their rank would not tremble at a sarcasm 
 from me. This may look vain and boastful.
 
 GBANBY. 197 
 
 but it is the truth, and nothing more, and I 
 wish to speak without disguise. Why am I 
 courted by persons who, both in rank and 
 fortune, are immeasurably my superiors ? Is 
 this eminence obtained without an effort ? Cer- 
 tainly not ; and this is my answer to your 
 question ; it is for this that I have acted a 
 part ; and why should w^e quarrel with the 
 means, if they lead to success ?"" 
 
 '* I think we should quarrel with them. I 
 cannot think the end justifies the means. We 
 should never do evil, even that good may 
 come." 
 
 " A charming moral, and charmingly de- 
 livered. But my dear Miss Jermyn — nay, — 
 do not draw back at that little harmless expres- 
 sion of regard; — I was going to observe, that even 
 admitting what you say, still you have not proved 
 the evil I trust that no part of my career deserves 
 to be designated by so strong a term. My 
 errors, be they what they may, should be 
 attributed partly to my associates. We adapt
 
 198 GRANBT. 
 
 the bait to the palate for which it is intended ; 
 and if that with which I amuse the world, 
 offends your judgment, it is only because the 
 generality do not possess that delicate tact, that 
 refined moral sense, which renders you (excuse 
 my freedom in saying so) fastidious even to an 
 injustice. Do not associate me with the silly, 
 worldly characters around me. I laugh at them, 
 while I laugh with them. They are mere steps 
 in my ladder. I regard them as tools, and 
 treat them accordingly. Do not think that I 
 am really heartless. How can I show that I 
 have a heart, while I live with people who have 
 none ? Our best and warmest feelings require 
 reciprocity for their display. With the world 
 at large, I see the tone which best suits it. 
 To you I am addressing a different language. 
 Towards you I have no disguise. I wish to 
 unbosom myself completely. You already un- 
 derstand me better than your thousand keen- 
 sighted, thorough-paced people of the world ; 
 and I wish that you should know me entirely.'*
 
 € KAN BY. 199 
 
 *' I thank you for the comphment ; but 
 surely people are not always best known from 
 their own descriptions."" 
 
 " Do you mean that I am insincere in what I 
 have been saying ? I am sure you cannot mean 
 it. Does anything I have uttered carry with 
 it the smallest indication of deceit ? Is there 
 any want of sincerity in my manner ? Its very 
 difference from my usual manner ought to prove 
 the contrary."^ 
 
 *' You are aware, it seems, of that difference ; 
 and I should have judged you more sincere if 
 you were not When a person is conscious of a 
 change in his manner, it rather seems to show 
 that the change is assumed." 
 
 " I will not dispute the principle, but you 
 are too severe in applying it to myself. But I 
 see that it is vain to look for anything but 
 severity." 
 
 *' Nay, Mr. T rebeck, I trust I have given you 
 no reason to say that." 
 
 '* I am but too well convinced of it," said he,
 
 200 GRANBY. 
 
 in a desponding tone ; " your usual charitable 
 feelings, I can plainly see, are not extended to 
 myself." 
 
 " I do not know why you should think so. 
 I am sure what I said was not uncharitably 
 meant." 
 
 *' I wish I could be persuaded of it ; but I 
 see that I have given you some deep offence. 
 Heaven knows how ! — I certainly have.'' 
 
 " Oh, no, no— no deep offence."^ 
 
 " To offend unknowingly," continued he, 
 not seeming to hear her, " is hard indeed ; but 
 I have been too aspiring. I have thought too 
 much of my own importance, and too little of 
 your''s. I have not bowed sufficiently low at the 
 shrine of wealth; and I have used language 
 which only high rank and fortune are permitted 
 to address to the heiress of Brackingsley." 
 
 " Mr. Trebeck, you astonish me by such im- 
 putations. I could not have supposed that you 
 would have ventured to suggest them, or that 
 you should have known me so little as to sup-
 
 gea:nby. 201 
 
 pose them true. How can you think me in- 
 fluenced by such unjustifiable, sordid views? 
 No, Sir, even if I were the heiress. I mean — 
 I mean — '''' she stopped much confused. Hur- 
 ried on by the eagerness of self-vindication she 
 found herself on the point of discovering her 
 secret; and her presence of mind so utterly 
 failed her at this crisis, that she felt unable to 
 give a different turn to the sentence. 
 
 " You mean/' said he, after a momentary 
 pause, in a calm tone, which considerably re- 
 assured her, " that were you heiress of ten 
 Brackingsleys you never could entertain the un- 
 worthy feelings which I hastily imputed to you." 
 
 She scorned to adopt a meaning that was not 
 her own, and was silent. 
 
 " I ought," he continued, " to be convinced, 
 and I am inchned to think that there are other 
 reasons, by which your evident reluctance to 
 admit my addresses may be more easily ac- 
 counted for. Yes, Miss Jermyn, there are 
 other reasons, which it is much more painful for 
 K 3
 
 202 GRAKSY* 
 
 me to admit, and to which, therefore, I have ab- 
 stained hitherto from alluding. But the time 
 for concealment is now past, and allude to them 
 I must. Two words will explain your conduct." 
 
 " And what are they .?" said she, turning pale. 
 
 " Pre-engaged affections." 
 
 She coloured violently, and her previous pale- 
 ness only served to render her emotion more 
 visible. She could not deny it; nor dare she 
 look up and meet his eye, which she felt con- 
 vinced was fixed upon her in calm, acute, deli- 
 berate scrutiny. But indignation at his boldness 
 came seasonably to her aid, and she said with 
 warmth, " Mr. Trebeck I you forget yourself. 
 This behaviour is unwarrantable. You have 
 no right to impute such sentiments ; it is a 
 liberty which, in justice to myself, I ought not 
 to permit.'' 
 
 " Pray forgive me. I am more deserving of 
 your pity than your anger. The truth of the 
 suggestion ought in some degree to excuse its 
 boldness."
 
 GRA^'BY. S03 
 
 « The truth, Sir !'» 
 
 ** You have not denied it." 
 
 " Why should I be called upon to deny what 
 you have no right to assume ?" 
 
 " You sliaJl never be called upon by me to 
 make an avowal unpleasant to yourself; but 
 permit me to say, (which I do with the most 
 unfeigned sincerity and respect), that you have 
 no friend to whom such an avowal might be 
 made with more safety than to me ; and let me 
 assure you that your secret shall be rehgiously 
 preserved, and that through me no part of this 
 conversation shall ever transpire." 
 
 '' I make no claim upon your secresy." 
 
 " I know you do not. You would scorn to 
 ask it. I can appreciate the dignity of your 
 feelings, but I can also read your wishes ; and 
 I feel bound to a fidelity which is not less due 
 than if you had solicited it. Time will come 
 when this temporary displeasure will have 
 passed away, and you will do me more justice 
 than you can at present ; but I cannot omit
 
 204 GRANBY. 
 
 this opportunity of expressing my warm convic- 
 tion, that there is no one to whom your happiness 
 and welfare will ever be an object of more deep 
 and lively interest, than it is to me." 
 
 So saying, he pressed her hand between both 
 his own, and bowing with an air of friendly 
 respect, gravely left the room.
 
 GBANBY. 205 
 
 CHA1\ XIV. 
 
 Benedict. Do yon question me as an honest man should do for my 
 simple true judgment ? or would you have me speak after my customj as 
 being a professed tyrant to their sex ? 
 
 Ciaudio. Nay, I pr'ythee, speak in sober judgment. 
 
 Benedict. Why, i' faith, methinks she is too low for an high praise, 
 too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a gi-eat praise. Only this 
 commendationlcan afford her, that were she other than she is, she were 
 unhandsome, and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. 
 
 MccH Ado abott Nothivs, 
 
 It will appear evident, from the foregoing 
 conversation, that Mr. Trebeck was not deeply 
 in love, and that his happiness did not promise 
 to be dangerously affected by the unauspicious 
 result of his conference with the lady. But at 
 the same time it is not to be imagined that his 
 object in addressing her was merely mercenary.
 
 206 GRANBY 
 
 His motives, like those of most other people, 
 were of a mixed character. He had no intention 
 of ever making a sacrifice to wealth. Rank he 
 disregarded, — flattering himself that the object of 
 his choice would always be possessed of sufficient 
 consideration in the world of fashion ; and his 
 natural extravagance, and the diminished state 
 of his finances, did not admit of his uniting 
 himself with a pennyless charmer. He, therefore^ 
 wisely resolved to combine, as far as was possi- 
 ble, all the requisites of rank, beauty, fortune, 
 and fashion ; and to please his eye and gratify 
 his taste as well as he could, consistently with a 
 prudent attention to that first great indispensable 
 ' — money. In Caroline Jermyn he found a suf- 
 ficient union of requisites to justify his choice. 
 She was, he presumed, a considerable heiress, 
 well-born, and well-connected. She had beauty 
 which satisfied even his fastidious eye ; sufficient 
 accomplishments ; manners which would pass 
 muster in any circle ; and, above all, a naiveU^ 
 a sort of intellectual verdure, which, to use a
 
 GRANBY. ^07 
 
 hackneyed expression, was perfectly " refresh- 
 ing." The circumstances, too, under which their 
 acquaintance had strengthened, seemed to invite 
 his subsequent approaches. He saw her exposed, 
 against her will, to the awkward and tedious 
 attentions of one whom he had never failed, 
 upon any fair opportunity, to make his butt. 
 He could thus, in the pursuit of his ultimate 
 object, gratify his malicious love of ridicule. 
 He could at once establish himself in the inti- 
 macy of the lady, by appearing to enter into 
 her feelings upon a subject on which, if confi- 
 dence is once seized by a coup de main, it is not 
 easily withdrawn ; and he could strengthen his 
 hold upon her, by the flattering interest which 
 he so unobtrusively betrayed, and the collusion 
 into which he forced her, mth his daily plans 
 for protecting her from the petty annoyance of 
 her unwelcome admirer. 
 
 He had also a rival to supplant ; but of thi? 
 he thought little; for he was not of sufficient 
 consequence to add much to the piquancy of
 
 208 ORANBY. 
 
 the pursuit. He was, however, aware that he 
 had but slight grounds to proceed upon. He 
 had not even her esteem ; nay, he was not cer- 
 tain that she did not at heart dishke him. He 
 trusted only to the trifling gratitude which his 
 attentions might, and, as he thought, ought to 
 have excited, and to the naturally flattered 
 vanity of a youthful mind, on finding itself an 
 object of admiration to the most fastidious fine 
 gentleman of his day, and at once the constituted 
 judge and ruling motive of his actions. He, 
 therefore, wisely abstained from assuming a 
 warmth which he was sure would not be met by 
 anything like a corresponding feeling, and for 
 the truth of which she probably would not give 
 him credit ; but rather brought into view his 
 claims upon her gratitude, and his high standing 
 in the fashionable world, and endeavoured to 
 flatter her vanity by a laboured endeavour to 
 justify his character in her eyes. 
 
 But Caroline had not sufficient vanitv for 
 his purpose, nor was she sufficiently conversant
 
 GEANBY. 209 
 
 in the ways of the world ; consequently, he could 
 not impress her with an adequate notion of liis 
 real elevation, nor could she sufficiently appre- 
 ciate the homage which rank and fortune sub- 
 mitted to pay to the magic influence of adroit 
 audacity. 
 
 But, besides all this, her unguarded expres- 
 sions concerning her inheritance, changed in an 
 instant the course of his proceedings. The 
 words were few and simple, and their sense in- 
 complete ; but, coupled with her hesitating, em- 
 barrassed manner, they were sufficient to inform a 
 man of Trebeck's penetration, that her fortune, 
 at best, was an uncertain one. His plan was there- 
 fore instantly changed, and as quickly acted upon^ • 
 and, pretending to give another meaning to her 
 words, he sought to secure a graceful retreat. 
 With this view he struck the chord of pre-en- 
 gaged affections; but was not prepared to find it 
 answer so readily to his touch, and felt for a 
 moment some apprehensions. However, con- 
 cluding that he could securely pounce upon his
 
 210 GRANBY. 
 
 quarry at any time, he determined to prosecute 
 his enquiries concerning the nature of her 
 expectations ; and, in the meantime, he could 
 quietly repose upon the safe basis of friendly 
 intimacy. 
 
 Caroline was much surprised and agitated by 
 the singular interview which she had undergone, 
 and for which no part of his previous conduct, 
 however remarkable, had in any degree prepared 
 her. That he either would or could admire 
 her, she, in her humility, had never imagined 
 for an instant ; and she had always been inclined 
 to regard his attentions as the mere result of a 
 compassionate whim. As for a proposal, it was 
 as unexpected as it was unwelcome. About her 
 two secrets she felt some anxiety ; for she feared, 
 in spite of his protestations, that they were not 
 in the safest hands. She had least apprehension 
 about the inheritance ; for he had given an oppo- 
 site meaning to her words, and she could not 
 imagine that the little which escaped could 
 convey any definite idea. She was angry with
 
 GBANBV. 211 
 
 herself for being so unguai'ded, and was also 
 mortified at the necessity of such unworthy 
 precautions. She longed to avow her situation 
 at once. But this, she reflected, she had no 
 right to do. The secret was entrusted to her by 
 her parents, under the condition of her silence, 
 and it was not for her to follow the dictates of 
 her own feelings, in opposition to their positive 
 injunctions. 
 
 That Mr. Trebeck should have discovered 
 that she had an attachment, although he did not 
 know to whom, was to her a subject of much 
 greater uneasiness. She felt a considerable 
 dread of meeting him again, and knew not 
 where to turn her eyes when she found him 
 seated directly opposite to her at dinner. She 
 actually trembled, as she thought of encountering 
 that look of hjs, which she seemed to view in 
 imagination — so keen, so scrutinizing, with such 
 an air of cruel meaning and malicious intel- 
 ligence.
 
 212 GRANBY. 
 
 It was not long before she did encounter it — 
 and what after all was the formidable look ? 
 Mild, calm, impenetrable, utterly devoid of 
 significance or consciousness — a look that con- 
 veyed absolutely nothing — a look like that with 
 which you meet the eye of a person you barely 
 know to speak to. He soon afterwards addressed 
 her ; and his tone was as composed as his 
 countenance. She was re-assured by this, and 
 felt obliged to him for the dehcacy of his beha- 
 viour. She also observed, with pleasure, that 
 he paid this evening more than usual attention 
 to her mother. 
 
 Trebeck did this in pursuance of his 
 plan, of being upon friendly terms with the 
 family during the course of his investigation ; 
 and though he had hitherto ratlier neglected Sir 
 Thomas and Lady Jermyn, he now began to 
 tliink it advisable to win their favour by a little 
 condescension. The lady wearied him most of 
 the two ; for in cajoling Sir Thomas he contrived 
 to find some amusement.
 
 GRANBY. f gl3' i 
 
 *' What have you been doing with your- 
 self, Trebeck?" said l\lr. Duncan the next 
 morning. 
 
 " You would not easily guess," said he ; "I 
 have been playing the sociable— keeping up the 
 ball with Sir Thomas Jermyn. He is really a 
 treat for a little time — but I believe'' (yawning) 
 " I have had rather too much of him."" 
 
 " You do look rather bored. What were 
 3'our topics ?"* 
 
 *' Politics, pohtics ; I won his heart by calling 
 him a Radical ; and he brought out all his best 
 common-places to prove that he was not. And 
 I have been asking him for some half dozen 
 franks, one-half of which I shall throw in the 
 fire. I got them purely to oblige him. 
 He likes, good man ! to exercise his privi- 
 lege." 
 
 "I see you can tolerate a proser occa- 
 sionally." 
 
 " Why, there certainly is some pleasure in
 
 214 GRANBY. 
 
 watching a machine that you have wound up 
 and set ar-going yourself. But when they pre- 
 sume to work on their own accord, then I grant 
 you they are perfectly intolerable. In fact^ Sir 
 Thomas would not do for long.*' 
 
 " You would not like him, I presume, for a 
 father-in-law."' 
 
 " Oh, God forbid !— That is not to be thought 
 of on any account.'' 
 
 " Not on his, perhaps, or his Lady's either ; 
 but surely the daughter is a charming girl." 
 
 " Why ! what the deuce ! — do you want me 
 to marry her .?" 
 
 " Not unless you like — I w^as simply praising 
 her.'' 
 
 " Simply!— ha!— ha!" 
 
 *' Why, what do you think of her ?" 
 
 " I think her tolerable, all things considered ; 
 but she is quite an uninformed country girl ; 
 and as for beauty — she looks well enough here, 
 where there is not a face, except Lady Harriet's,
 
 GEANBY. 215 
 
 that does not serve as a foil to her own ; but in 
 town, you really would not look at her." 
 
 '' Well," said Mr. Duncan, '* there is no ac- 
 counting for tastes ; but with all due deference 
 to your judgment, I must say, I admire her ex- 
 tremely. She seems particularly amiable; she 
 has great natural elegance of manner, and a 
 good deal of pleasing accomplishment, which 
 she certainly exhibits most imaffectedly ; she 
 seems to have very sufficient information, and 
 considerable quickness and intelligence ; and 
 what I particularly like, — a quiet subdued turn 
 for pleasantry ; as much in fact, as a woman 
 should have ; for I positively hate a female wag. 
 Then as for externals, she is sweetly pretty, ia 
 my opinion, particularly when she smiles.'* 
 
 '^ Bravo ! rapturous Sir ! — I hope Lady 
 Harriet is not w^ithin hearing/' 
 
 " Lady Hamet entirely concurs with me in 
 this opinion — nay, more than that — '"* 
 
 What farther encomiums he was going to add,
 
 216 GRANBY. 
 
 upon his wife's authority, we cannot say ; for at 
 this instant the door opened, and in came Mr. 
 Bennett, with his usual placid, complacent look. 
 
 '' I am come,'*' said he, " on a special em- 
 bassy, in quest of the Honourable Mr. Clifton. 
 Perhaps you, Sir," (addressing himself to Mr. 
 Trebeck), " can inform me where he is to be 
 found ?'' 
 
 " I am truly sorry to say that I cannot ; but 
 perhaps the Honourable Mr. Duncan can." 
 
 The Honourable Mr. Duncan professed 
 inability, and the Rev. Mr. Bennett smirkingly 
 withdrew. 
 
 " A choice specimen of a clerical prig,'' said 
 Trebeck, as the door closed. 
 
 " A prig, if you will,"* said Duncan, " but 
 don't say ' clerical,' for I do not think that es- 
 sential to the character. The man is a puppy, 
 and happens to be in orders ; but had he not 
 been ordained, he would probably have been a 
 greater puppy still."
 
 GRANBY. ' 217 
 
 '* Well, well— I know you can be eloquent 
 upon this subject, but I don''t mean to give you 
 an opportunity ; for, to cut the matter short, I 
 perfectly agree with you in all you have said, 
 and were about to say." 
 
 *' I thank you for saying so at any rate — but 
 what were we talking about when the tutor 
 came in ? — Miss Jermyn, was not it ?" 
 
 " I believe it was — but I'm sure you had 
 gone through all her perfections, so TW. 
 trouble you to recapitulate. By the bye," said 
 he, looking out of the window, " there is your 
 charmer's own sweet self, going down the 
 walk with Lady Harriet. Suppose we join 
 them ?" 
 
 The party at Hemingsvvorth was now soon to 
 be broken up. Trebeck and Lord Chesterton 
 were going on the morrow, and the Jermyn 
 family were to make their departure on the day 
 following. Lord Chesterton, during the three 
 last days of his stay, had been less an object of 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 GRANBY. 
 
 Caroline's aversion than during the preceding 
 part of it ; and this, for a reason which, with 
 persons in general, would have operated differ- 
 ently. He had considerably relaxed in his at- 
 tentions ; a change which Caroline thought ob- 
 servable since the circumstance of the music-book. 
 She was sorry that so trifling an offence should so 
 seriously have displeased him, and though glad 
 of the result, hoped that she might be mistaken 
 in the cause. But she was not mistaken ; for 
 this slight circumstance, heightened by the inge- 
 nious misrepresentations of Trebeck, and the art- 
 ful colouring which he contrived to give to it, 
 effectually convinced Lord Chesterton that Miss 
 Jermyn was one of those persons whom of all others 
 he dreaded most,— a female quizzer ; and that, 
 mild and placid as she seemed to be, her only ob- 
 ject, while admitting his attentions, was to find 
 some opportunity of turning him into ridicule. 
 Lord Chesterton, who was pride personified, 
 easily took fire at this idea, and determined from
 
 GBANBY. 219 
 
 that time to dedicate his dulness to those who 
 could appreciate more worthily the honour of 
 the offering. 
 
 The inauspicious result of this affair was a 
 cruel blow to Lady Jermyn, for she was by this 
 time far advanced in castle-building, and had 
 fixed very firmly a prospective coronet upon her 
 daughter's brow. She watched his Lordship 
 with mournful interest throughout the day pre- 
 ceding his departure, and saw with a sigh his 
 last cold farewell-bow, as he passed her daughter 
 in his way to his carriage. The rattle of its 
 wheels sounded in her ears hke the dismal knell 
 of departed gi-eatness, and she grieved to think 
 that a young man, who seemed so steady, should 
 so little know his own mind. 
 
 Lady Daventry was not unmoved on this oc- 
 casion; but her grief Avas of a decidedly less 
 poignant character. In fact, it principally arose 
 from regret at having committed herself with 
 her friend. Lady Gabbleton, " The Daily Ad- 
 vertiser,"" by prematurely announcing the rnar- 
 L 2
 
 GRANBY. 
 
 riage of Lord Chesterton with her niece, Miss 
 Jermyn, as " a thing that was to be."" 
 
 As for Trebeck, he completely succeeded, 
 before his departure, in gaining the favour of 
 Sir Thomas and Lady Jermyn, who warmly 
 pressed him to visit them at Brackingsley, and 
 declared when he was gone, that he had not 
 half so much finery and nonsense about him 
 as the world supposed, and was remarkably 
 pleasant when you came to know him. Even 
 Caroline felt considerably disposed in his fa- 
 vour, by his conduct during the two last days ; 
 though she still thought that she never could 
 accept him, even if there were no such person in 
 the world as Henry Granby. 
 
 And novr the day and hour arrived when she 
 was to quit this gay and amusing scene, which 
 in so short a time had opened to her youthful 
 mind so wide a field of new ideas. The carriage, 
 with its ponderous trunks and towering impe- 
 rials, was actually at the door; adieus were 
 thickly showered upon her, and clusters of hands
 
 GRAXBY. 221 
 
 extended to be shaken ; the carriage was entered, 
 the door closed, the vehicle in motion ; and she 
 kissed her hand for the last time, and bad fare- 
 well to Hemingsworth.
 
 2S2 GRA^iBY. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Uiie paine dont personne ne vous parle, luie paine qui n'epronve pas 
 le moindie changement, et n'est susceptible d'aucun eyenement, d'au- 
 cune vicissitude, fait encore plus de mal que la diversite des impressions 
 doulonreuscs. — De Stael. Corinna. 
 
 FoiTR months have now elapsed since \ye took 
 our leave of Henry Granby. We then left him 
 musing mournfully on his hopeless alienation 
 from the Jermyns. We shall now find him still 
 pursuing the same subject of meditation. His 
 grief had a double cause. First and chief was 
 the estrangement of Caroline. Next was regret 
 at being opposed in his plan of entering a pro- 
 fession. He did not feel that " ambition" would 
 " soon ease**' him " of love ;"" nor did he court 
 employment for the purpose of diverting his 
 thoughts from Caroline ; for it was love of her
 
 GRAXBY. 
 
 which first roused him to exertion, and the ge- 
 nerous ardour thus communicated had glowed 
 steadily ever since. But though regretting the 
 inacti\ity to which he was doomed, he did not 
 suffer his energies to stagnate through despair ; 
 and though precluded from striking at once 
 into any one road to eminence, he resolved to 
 render himself more competent to the pursuit of 
 any course which might be hereafter open to 
 him. He therefore applied himself resolutely to 
 the improvement of those talents with which he 
 had been endowed in no sparing degree. 
 
 But the best resolutions often fail ; and it was 
 even so with Henry Granby. In his case, those 
 very feelings that were his incentives to exertion, 
 formed the bar which precluded it. Often, "when 
 labouring to confine his thoughts to the present 
 object of speculation, CaroHne's form would rise 
 unbidden to his view ; now with her soft sweet 
 smile lapping him in temporary forgetfulness of 
 all but his own delusive dream of bliss; now 
 ft'ith the frown of displeasure chilling him into
 
 ^24 GRANBY. 
 
 listless despair. Often would his eyes travel 
 mechanically down the page, when, with a sudden 
 start of recollection, he became conscious that he 
 had long been reading mere words, whose sense 
 had totally escaped him, while his mind was 
 wandering to a dearer subject. He endeavoured 
 sometimes to divert his thoughts, and rouse him- 
 self to gaiety, by moderately partaking of the 
 pleasures of society, and the recreations of the 
 season. But things which interested before, 
 failed to interest him now. In all he did there 
 was an evident want of animation; and the 
 youthful buoyancy of spirit which characterized 
 him once was gone. 
 
 In the General, this change in his nephew's 
 deportment did not excite particular attention. 
 He was not one of those who search very deeply 
 into the recesses of the mind, or who are prone 
 to attribute the fluctuations of the spirits to any 
 but the temporary influence of the most obvious 
 causes. He sometimes indeed noticed his ne- 
 phew's occasional fits of abstraction, and would
 
 GRANBY. 225 
 
 jocosely attack him upon that point, whenever 
 they interfered with his own natural love of 
 cheerful converse. But it would have been not 
 a little difficult to persuade him, that the various 
 instances of depression which were spread over 
 the surface of four months^ were all to be traced 
 to one prevailing cause. At any rate, he would 
 have acquitted Caroline ; for as her name was 
 never in his nephew's mouth, he thought her 
 image was never in his mind. 
 
 " Harry,"" said he one day, after receiving a 
 letter with a Bath post-mark, " I'm glad you 
 have left off thinking about Caroline Jermyn." 
 
 " Why so, Sir .?" said the nephew, who was 
 thinking of nothing else at that very moment. 
 
 " Why, I learn by this letter — it is from 
 an old frifflid of mine. General Killerton — a 
 fellow-campaigner — he is at Bath now for his 
 health — he goes there every year — he's quite 
 an invalid — had the gout these ten years — you 
 have seen General Killerton ? — "" 
 L 3
 
 ^26 GEANBY. 
 
 " Oh yes, Sir — know him perfectly. But 
 about the letter — you were going to say — " 
 
 " Oh, ay ! — well — he says that Caroline is 
 going to be married.*' 
 
 " Married ! impossible ! — " said Henry, with 
 a start that would have made the fortune of a 
 theatrical debutant. 
 
 ** Why impossible .^" replied the General 
 coolly. *^ I don't see any impossibility." 
 
 " N-no — perhaps not — of course, if you say 
 so — that is — I mean — I suppose the letter gives 
 its authority." 
 
 " Oh, yes — it gives its authority — you may 
 see it if you like — and very good authority too. 
 Killerton had it from a friend of his, who heard 
 it mentioned by Lady Gabbleton, who received 
 the account in a letter from Lady Daventry, 
 Caroline's aunt — and I hear the Jermyns have 
 been staying some time at Hemingsworth — so, 
 you see, there cannot be the smallest doubt 
 of it."
 
 GEAXBY. 227 
 
 " None in the world, Sir," said Henry, trying 
 to be calm ; " and what may the gentleman's 
 name be ?" 
 
 " Why, the name is not very plain — but it is 
 a Lord somebody — Ches — Chesterton— here — 
 your eyes are younger than mine— just look — is 
 it Chesterton ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir— Lord Chesterton— he is Lord 
 Banbury's eldest son." 
 
 " Ha ! a good match — I'm very glad to hear 
 this, Harry. This is doing well for the girl — 
 very well, indeed, I call it. Why ! what the 
 devil ! — you don't seem pleased." 
 
 « No — I don't think it is so well." 
 
 " No ! — why .'' — where's the objection ? Do 
 you know anything about this Lord Ches- 
 terton ?'■'' 
 
 "I do not know him myself, Sir, even by sight ; 
 but I have heard him spoken of by some friends 
 of mine, as a stupid, formal, affected sort of per- 
 son, and a fellow of whom they always made a 
 laughing-stock .at Oxford— a sort of man, that
 
 228 GRANBY. 
 
 I am sure, by what I have heard of him, it is 
 quite impossible Miss Jermyn can like." 
 
 '* Oh, she'll like him — never fear. Why 
 should you be so ready to suppose she 
 will not ? You don't consider that it's a very 
 great match for her." 
 
 " Certainly, Sir," said the nephew, in a tone 
 of pique, " if a high connection is necessarily a 
 good one. But I cannot say I think that fol- 
 lows. It is really what I did not expect — and 
 upon so short an acquaintance too ! They did 
 not know him four months ago." 
 
 " And what of that ?''' said the General. " It 
 shows they have made good use of their time.'' 
 
 " Yes — that is the worst of it. There is 
 something so indelicate in this violent haste.'' 
 
 "But they think differently, yon see." 
 
 " Yes, Sir, I dare say they do. Their feel- 
 ings on this subject are very different from 
 mine. It is really too bad— a mere paltry match 
 of ambition ! — to be bartered for a coronet ! — 
 to be made a Smithfield bargain of ! Oh, Caro-
 
 GKANBY. 229 
 
 line ! Caroline ! — I never could have believed 
 it. If there is any sort of marriage I do utterly 
 despise and abhor, it is one of mere convenience 
 and aggrandisement. It is such a compromise 
 of female delicacy! — It never does any credit 
 either to the promoter or the parties. And that 
 she should fall a victim !" 
 
 " Victim — nonsense ! What makes you so 
 warm about it ? I'll be bound she is perfectly 
 satisfied — and if she is, I'm sure I am." 
 
 " But it is impossible, Sir, unless she is 
 strangely altered. She cannot like the man; and 
 there is the evil." 
 
 " Ay ! — well — I understand you — that •ipould 
 be an evil — if it were really the case. You 
 would be quite satisfied — (that is your meaning, 
 I suppose) — if you thought she married this 
 Lord Chesterton, because she really was attached 
 to him." 
 
 This was an awkward alternative — Henry 
 could bear the subject no longer, and turned 
 away to conceal the agonized expression of his
 
 230 GRANBY. 
 
 countenance, which he thought must be evident 
 even to the General ; feeUng also no inchnation 
 to prolong the discussion of so painful a topic, 
 with one who could so little enter into his real 
 sentiments. 
 
 Upon calm consideration, however, he began 
 to find materials for comfort, which had pre- 
 viously escaped his notice ; for, in the first frenzy 
 of disappointment, he had been perversely dis- 
 posed to see every thing in the worst point of 
 view — to conclude the marriage positively fixed, 
 and Caroline irrevocably lost to him. But now, 
 upon sifting probabilities, and remembering by 
 how circuitous a course the intelligence had 
 reached him, and that Lady Gabbleton was an 
 arrant newsmonger, he came to the conclusion, 
 that though the report must have some founda- 
 tion, yet that no marriage was actually settled. 
 
 Henry hoped to be in town in the spring, 
 where it was probable that the " high contract- 
 ing parties " — if such they were — would shortly 
 assemble. To follow them thither was therefore
 
 GRANBY. 231 
 
 his immediate determination. The day of his 
 journey was soon fixed, and accordingly about 
 the last week of " the month before the month 
 of IViay," Henry Granby went up to to^rn. 
 
 And now, did we live in happier times, how 
 bright a field of interesting incident would open 
 to our view ! How rich a harvest might we 
 freely glean from the perilous adventures of the 
 road ! Farewell those golden days when an 
 hundred miles' journey was an era in the life of 
 him who undertook it ; when the making of a 
 will was the proper preface to a journey to 
 London ; and when a public vehicle, with a care- 
 ful driver, was advertised a fortnight beforehand, 
 like an outward bound packet, to set out from 
 Lohdon (if its complement Nvas full) and " ar- 
 rive (God wilhng) on the fourth day at Oxford. ' 
 
 The happy annalist of those times was not 
 compelled to dismiss his hero with a dry an- 
 nouncement of departure and arrival. Then it 
 was chiefly at the outset of a journey that he 
 plunged with him into the thickest medley of
 
 2S2 GRANBY. 
 
 conflicting events — an inn became the hot-bed 
 of incident — and fear and laughter dogged the 
 wheels of the heavy vehicle which there de- 
 posited its load. Witness the rambles of a 
 Jones ; the slow, but varied and eventful pro- 
 gress of a Roderick Random in the stage-wag- 
 gon ; and the fortunes of the day that exposed 
 an Andrews to the tender mercies of a couple of 
 footpads. Shades of Turpin and of Blueskin ! 
 and ye other rival worthies whom abler pens 
 than mine have heretofore commemorated! 
 'Twas your's to keep alive the stagnating spirit 
 of adventure, to lighten the burden of the way- 
 worn traveller, to throw a fearful interest over 
 the heavy annals of an inland excursion, and 
 with vigorous touches, peculiarly your OAvn, to 
 heighten the romance of real life. But the age 
 of highwaymen is past ; that of horse patrol and 
 hght coaches has succeeded ; and the glories of 
 the road are extinguished for ever. 
 
 But there is still food for observation and 
 amusement. The annals of the road, though
 
 GRANBY. 233 
 
 not now the source of high- wrought interest and 
 perilous adventure, might still furnish subjects 
 for sportive delineation, and shine once more in 
 the pages of our novehsts, could pens be found, 
 which, like that of the ingenious annaUst of 
 " The Stout Gentleman," could throw an in- 
 terest even over the tame adventure of a wet 
 Sunday in a country inn. The modem mail- 
 coach, with its motley complement of attendants, 
 presents a scene as strictly national as any which 
 this country can produce. The sturdy, thick- 
 set, waddhng coachman ; his purple face just 
 visible between a broad-brimmed hat and a hill 
 of drab cloth ; his reduced edition, in the more 
 active guard; the knowing, straight-haired, 
 bustling helpers, with their bare heads and short 
 jackets ; the hstless lookers on, with their com- 
 ments on the " cattle ;" the vacant civiUty of 
 mine host ; all — down to the ruddy-faced cham- 
 bermaid — all are true, genuine, downright 
 English — all bear a deep-grained national stamp.
 
 234) GRANBY. 
 
 which the members of scarcely any other class 
 faithfully exhibit. 
 
 Nor must the passengers be forgotten. Few 
 situations are more favourable to a display of 
 character than that close, casual, unsought, 
 unceremonious communion into which fellow- 
 travellers are thrown in the course of a journey. 
 The snug incognito, the levelling jumble of 
 ranks and professions, the intimate contact of 
 opposite character, the absence of adventitious 
 elevation, the depression of real consequence, 
 and the wide field for impudent pretension — all 
 conduce to this one point ; all tend to expose 
 the character, while they conceal the circum- 
 stances. When is vanity more actively em- 
 ployed, in dilating the insignificant and brighten- 
 ing the obscK. ;? or when is it cloaked under 
 more ingenious disguises ? How artfully some- 
 times is a little sly trait of importance carelessly 
 dropt, as if inadvertently, with a well contrived 
 look of absence, or followed perhaps by a
 
 GRAXBY. 235 
 
 bridling air of gravity, as if the real situation 
 had been too much exposed ! And what an 
 excellent vehicle can modesty be rendered I 
 How much may be done by an humble dis- 
 claimer ! We remember a gentleman of this 
 sort — a master in his way — who impressed us 
 with a high opinion of his dignity, without sacri- 
 ficing an iota of truth, or even making a single 
 direct assumption. He was not, he assured us, 
 at the last Levee, nor was he personally acquaint- 
 ed with one of the ministry who happened to be 
 named. It was perfectly true, without a doubt ; 
 but what did his tone and manner imply .? That 
 it was almost the only Levee he had ever missed, 
 and that all the rest of the cabinet were his inti- 
 mate friends. We were also solemnly assured that 
 he was not the author of an anonymous work, 
 of some merit, that happened to be mentioned. 
 We did not suspect him ; but his manner de- 
 noted that he had frequently been taxed with it; 
 and as it seemed a sore subject, we abstained 
 from questions. Hence, however, we gathered^
 
 236 GRANBY. 
 
 that though he was not the author of the book 
 ill question, he was thought very capable of 
 having written it. Who could he be ? A friend 
 of the cabinet, at any rate, and a reputed man of 
 talent ! Our veneration for him grew prodigious- 
 ly, and we amused ourselves with working upon 
 his imperfect hints, and investing him with proper 
 dignity. But, alas ! about a mile from Liver- 
 pool, our speculations and the coach were rudely 
 arrested by a greasy footboy on the look-out, 
 near a prim villa with green palisades ; and our 
 dignified companion shrunk at once into Mr. 
 Stephen Wilcox, late Appraiser and Auctioneer.
 
 GRANBY, 237 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Early in tbe morning he again set forth in pursuit of Sophia ; and 
 many a weary step he took to no better purpose than before. 
 
 Tom Jones. 
 
 We may now safely suppose Granby to have 
 arrived in London, and to be finally set down at 
 one of those huge caravan seras, where so many 
 daily come and go, and few, if any, \\dsh to stay. 
 We shall pass over the busy blank of the next 
 twenty-four hours, at the expiration of which 
 we shall find him established in Mount-street, 
 actively engaged in the pleasing task, of inform- 
 ing his friends of his life and presence. 
 
 His few first days passed heavily enough. 
 His was the fate of many in London. Daily 
 did he empty his cardcase at the doors of his ac-
 
 238 GRAN BY. 
 
 quaintance; and daily did he view upon his 
 table, in return, similar indications of their re- 
 membrance of him. But by some fatality, they 
 never met : and in truth, this fatality is easily 
 accounted for, considering that everybody calls 
 upon their friends just about the same hour, and, 
 consequently, everybody is out at the usual 
 hour of calling. 
 
 This is a tantalizing state of things ; and, 
 alas ! is not peculiar to the commencement of 
 the sojourn. Often, too often, with the best 
 intentions, excellent friends will have passed the 
 season without any memorial of each other's 
 existence more satisfactory than the copperplate 
 impression of their respective names. An altar 
 of friendship, with a pediment of pasteboard ! 
 The material certainly is slight ; but it is a con- 
 venient vehicle of civil meanings to the many 
 with whom five minutes chat is the utmost of 
 one's intercourse, and with whom society, like 
 a tontine, requires little more than the periodical 
 certificate of one's being still alive.
 
 GEANBY. 239 
 
 One of the first persons whom Henry Granby 
 met in town, was his cousin, Mr. Tyrrel, who 
 received him again with that same air of friendly 
 interest, which created so pleasing an impression 
 in his favour, during the latter part of his short 
 stay at Tedsworth. 
 
 Thus greeted, and by one with whom, though 
 so nearly connected, he had so lately become 
 acquainted, he was eager to cultivate his society ; 
 and his intentions on this point were strongly 
 supported by the recommendations of the Gene- 
 ral, who before his departure, had made it one 
 of his last and most particular injunctions, to 
 see as much as possible of his cousin Tyrrel, and, 
 since he was favourably disposed towards him, 
 to lose no opportunity of cementing their friend- 
 ship. This request, coming from one who, of 
 course, must know a good deal about Tyrrel, 
 and had probably not urged it without sufficient 
 reasons, was necessarily of much weight. Henry 
 himself knesv no more of him than that he was 
 JLiord Malton's only son, and his own cousin; and
 
 240 GRANBY. 
 
 he saw no more than that he was a Hvely, sociable, 
 conversible man of the world, an entertaining, 
 and, in all probability, an useful companion. 
 
 But the probable merits or demerits of Tyrrel, 
 and all that he did and said, were, to Henry 
 Granby, subjects of infinitely inferior interest 
 to the grand question, whether the Jermyns 
 actually were or were not at that time in town. 
 A Morning Paper had rather perplexed him, 
 by announcing amoDg the fashionable arrivals, 
 " Sir J. and Lady Jarmyn and family."" He 
 had no Baronetage to apply to — and, then, if he 
 had, the person might not be a Baronet. Thanks 
 to foreign orders, &c., *' Sir," since the peace, 
 had been almost as good a travelling name as 
 " Captain" heretofore. But still it might be 
 meant for Sir T. Jermyn — papers were some- 
 times so inaccurate — and yet "family" was an 
 odd expression for an only daughter. A friend 
 of his, who called soon afterwards, also helped 
 to puzzle and provoke him ; for, in discussing 
 the comparative state of female beauty during
 
 GRANBY. 241 
 
 the last and present season, he adverted to a 
 new face which he had seen the night before at 
 Lady Somebody's — " rather striking,'' he said, 
 " but not exactly one of your regular cried-up 
 beauties — more pretty than handsome — but witli 
 a good deal of expression. A Miss St. Ger- 
 mains, I was told." 
 
 " Jermyn, probably, without the St ," said 
 Granby. 
 
 " No— I'm certain about the St. ; I repeat 
 the name exactly as I heard it. She is the 
 daughter of a baronet — only daughter." 
 
 " Exactly — so is my Miss Jermyn." 
 
 "But you know," said the other, '' there is a 
 Miss St. Germains, only daughter of a baronet 
 of that name." 
 
 So there was. Provoking coincidence ! Then 
 it might perhaps be this lady after all. He was 
 afterwards informed, by another friend, who 
 was slightly acquainted with the Jermyn family, 
 that he thought he had seen Miss Jermyn some- 
 where, or, at any rate, somebody very hke her ; 
 
 VOL. I. w
 
 242 GRANBY. 
 
 but whether it was at Lady C.'s, or Cramer s 
 Concert, orAhnack's, or the British Gallery, or 
 riding in the Park, or eating ice at Gunter's, he 
 could not, for the life of him, recollect. 
 
 Thus foiled in various quarters, Granby re- 
 paired, as a last resource, to his aunt, Mrs. Dor- 
 mer, whom, though he had already called upon, 
 he had not yet seen. Mrs. Dormer was the elder 
 and only sister of his mother, and, like her (for 
 they were co-heiresses), inherited a considerable 
 fortune, which she was induced to bestow, at an 
 early age, upon Mr. Dormer, the younger son 
 of a nobleman. But her husband had been 
 dead some years ; and she was now a wealthy 
 widow, in a handsome town house, with nume- 
 rous acquaintance, and the entree of the best 
 society. 
 
 It would be difficult to find a more pleas- 
 ing example than Mrs. Dormer, of that much 
 libelled class of elderly ladies of the world, 
 who are presumed to be happy only at the 
 ca»4 table ; to grow in bitterness as they
 
 GEANBY. 243 
 
 advance in years, and to haunt, like restless 
 ghosts, those busy circles which they no longer 
 either enliven or adorn. Such there may 
 be ; but of these she was not one. She was the 
 frequenter of society, but not its slave. She had 
 great natural benevolence of disposition; a 
 friendly vivacity of manners, which endeared 
 her to the young, and a steady good sense, 
 which commanded the respect of her contempo- 
 raries ; and many, who did not agree with her 
 on particular points, were willing to allow that 
 there was a good deal of reason in Mrs. Dor- 
 mer s prejudices. She was, perhaps, a little 
 bUnd to the faults of her friends ; a defect of 
 which the world could not cure her ; but she 
 was very kind to their virtues. She was fond of 
 young people, and had an unimpaired gaiety 
 about her, which seemed to expand in the con- 
 tact with them ; and she was anxious to promote, 
 for their sake, even those amusements for which 
 she had lost all taste herself. She was — buf, 
 after all, she will be best described by negati^s. 
 u 2
 
 244* GRANBY. 
 
 She was not a match-maker, or mischief-maker ; 
 nor did she plume herself upon her charity, in 
 implicitly believing only just half of what the 
 world says. She was no retailer of scandalous 
 " on ditsy She did not combat wrinkles with 
 rouge ; nor did she labour to render years less 
 respected, by a miserable affectation of girlish 
 fashions. She did not stickle for the inviolable 
 exclusiveness of certain sets ; nor was she afraid 
 of being known to visit a friend in an unfashion- 
 able quarter of the town. She was no worshipper 
 of mere rank. She did not patronize oddities ; 
 nor sanction those who delight in braving the 
 rules of common decency. She did not evince 
 her sense of propriety, by shaking hands with 
 the recent defendant in a Crim. Con. cause ; nor 
 exhale her devotion in Sunday routs. 
 
 At any rate she was an excellent person for 
 our hero to apply to ; for independent of her 
 knowing the Jermyns, she was, in general, ex- 
 cellently acquainted with her neighbours' move- 
 ments, — being an extensive correspondent, a
 
 GEAJiBY. 245 
 
 great giver and receiver of visits, and one into 
 whose obliging ear many loved to pour their tale 
 of joy or woe. For once, however, she failed 
 in giving the desired inteUigence ; and after a 
 good deal of lively conversation about people 
 for whom Henry cared comparatively little, and 
 provision on her part for his future amuse- 
 ment, in the shape of cards for balls to be 
 given by two of her friends, Lady Drayton 
 and Mrs. Henley, — Henry Granby took his 
 leave.
 
 246 GftANBY. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Oh ! pardon that in crowds awhile 
 
 I waste one thought I owe to thee. 
 And, self-condemned, appear to smile. 
 
 Unfaithful to thy memory ! 
 Nor deem that memoiy less dear. 
 
 That then I seem not to repine ; 
 I would not fools should overhear 
 
 One sigh that should be wholly thine. 
 
 Bybon. 
 
 A CARD had been offered to Granby, the 
 day before, for a ball that night at Mrs. Clot- 
 worthy's, and having despatched his other en- 
 gagements, about the " witching hour of night,'' 
 he repaired to that lady's well thronged man- 
 sion. He had heard that all the world were to 
 be there ; and it really seemed as if for once 
 all the world had kept their word. The street 
 was blocked up with a treble line of carriages.
 
 GEANBY. 247 
 
 extending above and below the house for a con- 
 siderable distance. Frequent was the slashing 
 of whips, and the wrangling of rival coach- 
 men, while the strong harsh voices of the police 
 officers were occasionally audible through the 
 din, enforcing regulations. Ladies thinly and 
 elegantly dressed, weary of the tedious process 
 of gaining the door by regular approaches, 
 were now and then seen tripping hastily along 
 the flags, and eliding fearfully through the 
 mob of idle spectators which lined the entrance 
 upon this occasion. 
 
 But what a feeble foretaste was this of 
 the crowd within — wliich gradually encreased 
 in density and consequence, from the liveried 
 throng in the entrance hall, which barely 
 afforded a lane for two, to the concentrated 
 haut ton of the inner saloon, where standing 
 room for one was not easily obtainable. 
 
 Granby got out at the first check to the 
 advance of his vehicle, and soon made his way 
 into the house ; and his progress to the scene
 
 248 GRANBY. 
 
 of action was then rapid and uninterrupted, 
 until within a few steps of the lowest landing 
 place. From thence upwards, the staircase 
 was completely full; his progress seemed 
 almost at an end ; and the gaining a step in 
 five minutes, appeared to be the rate of the 
 most successful. But the difficulties though 
 great, were not insupportable, and Granby 
 with some patience, and the advantages of a 
 slender form, got in due time to the envied 
 summit, and added his quota to the many 
 bows which Mrs. Clotworthy was there sta- 
 tioned to receive. 
 
 Tbe^ poor woman seemed half dead with 
 fatigue already, and we cannot venture to say 
 whether the prospect of five hours more of this 
 high wrought enjoyment tended much to brace 
 her to the task. It was a brilliant sight, and 
 an interesting one, if it could have been 
 viewed from some fair vantage ground, with 
 ample space, in coolness and in quiet. Rank, 
 beauty, and splendour were richly blended.
 
 GRAXBY. 249 
 
 The gay attire ; the glittering jewels ; the more 
 resplendent features they adorned, and too fre- 
 quently the rouged cheek of the sexagenarian ; 
 the vigilant chaperon ; the fair but languid 
 form which she conducted ; well curled heads, 
 well propped with starch ; well whiskered 
 Guards-men ; and here and there fat good-hu- 
 moured elderly gentlemen, with stars upon their 
 coats ; — all these united in one close medley — 
 a curious piece of living mosaic. Most of them 
 came to see and to be seen ; some of the most 
 youthful professedly to dance ; yet how could 
 they ? at any rate they tried — they stood as 
 if they could, with their vis-a-vis facing them, 
 and sidled across and back again, and made 
 one step, or two if there was room, to the 
 right or left, and joined hands, and set per- 
 haps, and turned their partners, or dispensed 
 with it if necessary — and so on to the end of 
 " La Finale;" — and then comes a waltz for 
 the few who choose it — and then another 
 M 3
 
 250 GRANBY. 
 
 squeezy quadrille — and so on— and on, till the 
 weary many " leave ample room and verge 
 enough" for the persevering few to figure in 
 with greater freedom. 
 
 But then they talk ; oh ! ay ! true, we must 
 not forget the charms of conversation. And 
 what passes between nine-tenths of them ? Re- 
 marks on the heat of the room ; the state of 
 the crowd; the impossibility of dancing, and 
 the propriety nevertheless of attempting it; 
 that on last Wednesday was a bad Almack's, 
 and on Thursday a worse Opera; that the 
 new ballet is supposed to be good ; mutual 
 enquiries how they like Pasta, or Catalani, 
 or whoever the syren of the day may be ; 
 whether they have been at Lady A.'s, and 
 whether they are going to Mrs. B's ; whether 
 they think Miss Such-a-one handsome; and 
 what is the name of the gentleman talking to 
 her; whether Rossini's music makes the best 
 quadrilles, and whether Colinet's band are the
 
 GRANBY. 251 
 
 best to play them. There are many who pay 
 in better coin ; but the small change is much of 
 this description. 
 
 As for Granby, he amused himself \\ith 
 walking about, and picking out his various 
 acquaintance. He soon found a friend upon 
 a similar cruize, whom he had not seen in 
 town before, and whom he had great pleasure 
 in recognizing; a Mr. Courtenay, whom he had 
 intimately known at College, and in whose 
 company he had travelled abroad. He was 
 about Granby's age, and was a young man 
 of lively talents and agreeable manners. He 
 was the grandson and heir of an elderly peer, 
 and his expectations were good. He had lived 
 a great deal in to^vn. and in the world ; knew 
 perfectly well, at least by sight and reputation, 
 all the prominent characters in high and gay 
 life, was tolerably versed in secret history, and 
 was a pretty keen guide to the leading foibles 
 of all aspiring figurants. 
 
 " You are no acquaintance, I presume, of
 
 252 GRAN BY. 
 
 Mrs. Clotworthy's," said he to Granby, after 
 they had come from their own affairs to the sub- 
 ject of the ball. 
 
 " No," said Granby, " I certainly am not — 
 though you might, I should think, have pre- 
 sumed the contrary, from finding me here.** 
 
 '" Quite the reverse, I assure you,"' said Cour- 
 tenay. " Mrs. Clotworthy has not ten friends 
 in the house." 
 
 '' Not ten friends ! — How do you mean .^*" 
 
 " Why she gave the ball under that con- 
 dition. Besides, after all, it is not her ball." 
 
 " Not her ball !^' 
 
 " Lord bless you, no — it has as many patron- 
 esses as the Caledonian. There is Lady A., 
 and Lady T., and the Duchess of H., and Mrs. 
 W., and many others that I could name. Mrs. 
 Clotworthy only keeps the mill, and these ladies 
 send the grist to it. She makes her's a reception- 
 house for their acquaintance — in return for 
 which, she is taken up, and introduced by 
 them ; bears the honours of the fete ; sends her
 
 GRAXBV. 253 
 
 list, vriih a request to be pnfFed, to the Morning 
 Post ; gets the eclat of supposed intimacy with 
 people who perhaps never spoke to her ; and 
 then, you know, from henceforth, she has them 
 all on her visiting hst, and they, perhaps, will 
 have her on their 's ; but that is as it may be," 
 
 " I did not know that Mrs. Clotworthy's was a 
 ball of this description." 
 
 " Oh, a most flagrant specimen, I assure you. 
 There are many ways of getting on, and this is 
 not a very uncommon one, and is pretty well 
 understood by your nouveaux ricJies. It is not 
 a very exalted way of getting into fashion, but 
 people must creep before they can climb." 
 
 " True," said Granby ; " they gain acquaint- 
 ance, and a sort of name ; — in short, they are 
 heard of. That is enough in the outset ; and of 
 the secret sneers of their new visitors they hear 
 about as much as Mrs. C. does of our conversa- 
 tion." 
 
 " About as much ; — but ' parlons bas,"* — she 
 is drawing near. Poor little soul," said he.
 
 254 GRANBY. 
 
 looking compassionately at her, she creeps 
 about without any body to speak to. Granby," 
 he added, after a short pause, " take care of 
 your heart, if you have got such a thing about 
 you, for here comes Mrs. General Brankstone, 
 with deep designs for the good of posterity upon 
 every one that is disengaged." 
 
 " She aims at higher marks than I ; I'm 
 safe, you may depend upon it." 
 
 " Don't be too sure ; you know you cannot 
 be included in what she calls ' that detrimental 
 class, the Scorpions.** " 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " Why younger brothers — I thought you 
 had been acquainted with the slang."*' 
 
 " No, quite a novice. But where is the 
 lady r 
 
 " There, just opposite, sweeping across like 
 a comet, with a long tail of ugly daughters." 
 
 " Oh, I see her — she is talking now to Count 
 Kalydor, alias Mr. Burrell Westby," said Gran- 
 by, looking towards a handsome young man.
 
 GEANBY. 255 
 
 dressed rather in the extreme, the chief fault 
 of whose appearance was too much cfFeminacy 
 and prettiness of air. 
 
 " Oh, hang him,'^ said Courtenay, " he is a 
 walking essence bottle. His bill at Smith's was 
 quite a curiosity; — twenty pounds more than 
 mine at Stultze's. That's the man (you must 
 have heard) who sleeps with his whiskers en pa- 
 pillotte/' 
 
 " I have heard it, but did not believe it." 
 
 " Oh, it is a fact. It transpired through his 
 valet. By the bye — apropos of whiskers — did 
 you ever see such a figure as our college friend 
 Allerby has made of himself.-^ There he is, fresh 
 tipped and tufted, with his new pair of musta- 
 chios. Upon my honour, I hardly knew him. 
 He was fond of tufts^ if you remember, at Ox- 
 ford." 
 
 "Who is that .^" said Granby, shortly after- 
 wards, directing the attention of his companion 
 to a young man, whose dress exhibited a stu-
 
 256 GRANBY. 
 
 dious selection of the chief peculiarities of the 
 existing mode. 
 
 " Don't you know who that is ?"" said Cour- 
 tenay. '' You really surprise me. ' Not to 
 know him argues yourself unknown.' That is 
 Mr. Jones Briggs."' 
 
 '* Jones Briggs !'' said Granby, smiling ; 
 *' and how came two such high-sounding names 
 to fall to the lot of the same individual ?"" 
 
 " Why, his original name was Jones ; but 
 upon succeeding to a large property, he as- 
 sumed, in gratitude to the donor, the name and 
 arms of Briggs."" 
 
 " The arms ! what can they be ?" 
 
 " God knows ! — two puncheons proper, or 
 three herrings gules, perhaps." 
 
 " Then the original Briggs made his fortune 
 by trade, I suppose.?" 
 
 " Exactly so." 
 
 " And the heir is a gentleman of fashion .''" 
 
 " Um — fashion ? — I hardly know what lo say
 
 CFvANBY. 257 
 
 to that. A good many people will tell you he 
 is. The fact is, he lives well, dresses well, 
 drives— no, not well, but the best horses in 
 town ; is understood to have the best of every 
 thing about him, and goes to the outside of 
 all proper expence. Of course he derives his 
 distinction through the medium of his trades- 
 people;— a spurious kind of fashion, but it 
 goes down with some people. In fact, fashion 
 is not so aristocratic as many imagine; it 
 may be bought, like most other things. We, 
 who had great grandfathers, ought to wish 
 it were otherwise." 
 
 At this moment a lady came up, who, after a 
 short conversation with Courtenay, put a card 
 into his hand, and passed on. " That is Lady 
 Maxtoke,*" said he, — " a very valuable person 
 in her way. She is a sort of Fete Jackal), or 
 Ball-giver's Provider; — the most useful body 
 imaginable — a very convenient caterer, both for 
 those who want to fill their rooms, and for those 
 who wish to go and fill them. You see," (show-
 
 258 GRANBY. 
 
 ing the card), " she wants me to assist in break- 
 ing down some friend's staircase. Before my 
 time she was a great giver of parties herself; 
 but she ran out a little, and consequently is 
 now on the reduced list ; so there is an end of 
 her own fetes. And now she is a kind of dry 
 nurse to young ball-givers ; she helps to make 
 out the cards for them, and perhaps carries off 
 a third in her reticule to dispose of; undertakes 
 to send to Colinet and speak to Gunter about 
 the supper ; decides the question of ' chalk or no 
 chalk.' And then you may often see her stand- 
 ing by her pupils in the doorway. I noticed her 
 at Mrs. Davenant's the other night, helping her 
 to receive people — teaching her young ideas to 
 courtesy — whispering ' who's who,' as they 
 came up.*" 
 
 " And pray, does she ever engage in any 
 party-giving ori her o^vn account ?" 
 
 " On her own account ? — Why, really that is 
 such an equivocal question, that I don't know 
 exactly how to answer it. But 111 tell you
 
 GllAXBY. 259 
 
 what she does, that you may answer it for your- 
 self. She opens her house once or twice every 
 season, for some singer's benefit, if not for her 
 own ; she then expects you to take a ticket ; 
 and this, I can do her the justice to say, is the 
 only tax she lays upon you."" 
 
 A short pause now ensued, which was first 
 broken by Courtenay suddenly exclaiming, 
 " Ha ! here is royalty !" 
 
 " Where ?"' said Granby. 
 
 " Straight before you-'-the Crown Prince of 
 Oonalaska — Stare at him well, if you would not 
 be singular.'^ 
 
 Granby saw before him, in the crowd, a 
 short squab, copper-coloured man, with straight 
 black hair, high cheeks, small pig-like eyes, 
 and an uncouth carriage, who stared about 
 him, as if ill at ease, with a pitiable vacancy 
 of countenance. 
 
 " Look — there is a lion hunter, if there ever 
 was one — old Mrs. Biddulph. She has fastened 
 upon his Highness already. Do observe her, and
 
 260 GRANBY. 
 
 him too —ha ! ha ! I will bet you a sovereign 
 she has him at her rout on Friday. She never 
 misses any thing that will raise a stare. Did you 
 ever hear of Spencer Saltash going to her party 
 dressed up and disguised in a wig and specta- 
 cles, and introduced as Dr. Gall? Saltash 
 played his part admirably, but Mrs. Biddulph 
 found him out. However, instead of exposing 
 him at once, as ninety-nine persons out of a 
 hundred would ha\e done, she very admirably 
 kept up the deception, for the sake of hoaxing 
 the rest of the company — Lady Harriet Dun- 
 can was one of them. She quite adored the 
 doctor for his jargon.*" 
 
 " Oh ! what our Florence friend. Lady Har- 
 riet? she's a person I very much wish to meet. 
 I was excessively amused with her. We had 
 some good scenes, if you remember. Besides I 
 want to revive my Italian recollections." 
 *' I have been talking to her already.'"* 
 *' When do you mean ? what here ? to- 
 night?"
 
 GRAXBY. 261 
 
 " Here — to-night — nay, she is not far from 
 you at this moment. By all that is lucky, there 
 she is — her own little eccentric self — talking, too, 
 to Mrs. Biddulph — charming pair ! With their 
 leave I shall make a third. Come along,"" said 
 he, taking hold of Granby's arm ; " we have 
 stood in this corner long enough. Who are 
 you staring at .'' Well, if you mean to grow to 
 the dado, I don't — so fare you well ;" and away 
 he went, to speak to Lady Harriet, — leaving 
 Granby apparently unconscious of his retreat. 
 
 The attention of Granby was at that moment 
 totally absorbed, in watching the motions of two 
 persons, who were retiring at some little distance 
 into another room. He could not identify the 
 elder lady, nor did he, indeed, give her much 
 of his attention, but chiefly directed it to her 
 youthful companion : and with some reason ; for 
 he thought, as he looked at her, that the neck 
 and head could belong only to Caroline Jer- 
 myn.
 
 262 GRANRY. 
 
 But they went forward in an undeviating 
 straight line, now lost, and now re-appearing in 
 the same provoking uniformity of direction, till 
 a closing group of tall people hid them entirely 
 from his view. His first impulse was to follow 
 them. They were going towards the staircase ; 
 probably to their carriage; in a few minutes 
 they would have left the house ; and he should 
 sleep another night in ignorance — an ignorance 
 which the prompt exertion of a few minutes 
 might remove. But after all the circumstances 
 that had passed, a marked pursuit, a forced 
 rencontre, when they perhaps were endeavour- 
 ing to avoid him, was a mode of meeting repug- 
 nant to his feelings of pride and delicacy. But 
 then, these might not be the Jermyns, and he 
 wished not so much to accost them^ as to satisfy 
 his doubts. 
 
 All this passed across his mind much faster 
 than he could have uttered it ; so that he did 
 not lose much time in mental debate His
 
 GRAXBY. 
 
 last resolution, like his first, was to follow ; 
 and accordingly follow them he did. But this 
 was not an easy task. He had lost sight of 
 them, and they were more than a room's length 
 in advance ; and a room's length in a crowded 
 party, is a distance not very speedily traversed. 
 A side door, (the only short cut), was then in 
 an impassable state of blockade ; acquaintance 
 whom he had not met before, sprung up pro- 
 vokingly in his path ; and these obstacles, if the 
 parties pursued were bent on departure, ren- 
 dered his chance of overtaking them almost 
 hopeless. In short, like " panting Time," he 
 " toiled after them in vain." That head and 
 neck, were no where visible, and he was forced 
 to conclude that its fair owner had left the 
 house. 
 
 As a last sad chance of aiTiving at the desired 
 intelligence, he asked the groom of the chambers, 
 who was at the bottom of the stairs, whether 
 I^ady Jermyn's carriage had been announced ;
 
 264 GRANBY. 
 
 but the gentleiran could not " charge his me- 
 mory,'" and would not take the trouble to 
 inquire. 
 
 Thus foiled, and bethinking himself that it 
 was not prudent to be very pointed in his in- 
 quiries, he immediately left the party, and re- 
 turned disconsolately home. It was useless to 
 him now to know whether the Jermyns had 
 really been at Mrs. Clot worthy's ; but his 
 curiosity was not extinct, and he reflected 
 with much pleasure that one chance still re- 
 mained — the list of the company in the Morn- 
 ing Post. And in this he was not disap- 
 pointed ; for on the second morning he read 
 at breakfast the following article. " Mrs. Clot- 
 worthy's First Grand Ball. — On Monday night, 
 this new bright star in the hemisphere of fashion, 
 
 opened her unique residence in Street, 
 
 toupwards of five hundred distinguished leaders 
 of the '• liaut to?i.' The admiring crowd began 
 to arrive about eleven o'clock, and the carriages
 
 GRAXBY. 265 
 
 continued to set down until three in the morning. 
 A splendid suite of rooms was thrown open, of- 
 which the blue drawing-room and the new saloon- 
 were appropriated to dancing. The matchless 
 beauty of the latter room excited the most lively 
 admiration. The style of its decorations is per- 
 fectly unrivalled, the whole having been executed 
 under the direction of Messrs. Simkins, of the 
 Strand. The recesses were filled with the choicest 
 exotics; and a sumptuous banquet was set out 
 in the suite of apartments on the ground floor, 
 where the tables groaned vmder every delicacy 
 in and out of season. Dancing commenced 
 about half-past eleven- — consisting of quadrilles 
 and waltzes alternately ; and was kept up with 
 imwearied spirit by the fashionable votaries of 
 Terpsichore, till a late hour. The exotic 
 plants were furnished by Messrs. Jenkins ; Gun- 
 ter prepared the supper ; and the band was led 
 by Colinet, in his highest style. Among the 
 company we noticed Princes Jablanowsky, ^lit- 
 chimikilikofF, &c. kc. &c." 
 
 VOL. 1. N
 
 ^6 GRAN BY. 
 
 The reader will perhaps dispense with the hst, 
 and let it suffice to say, that it extended in goodly 
 array from Dukes, Duchesses, and so on, down- 
 wards in regular gradation, to Messieurs, Mis- 
 tresses, and Misses ; and that it contained two 
 names which Granby noticed with even more 
 satisfaction than he did his own ; those of Lady 
 and Miss Jermyn. 
 
 It was very p ovoking to have missed so fair 
 an opportunity of getting through the embar- 
 rassments of a first meeting ; but at any rate it 
 w^as satisfactory that the point of uncertainty was 
 now removed.
 
 GEANBY. 267 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Nothing more ag^avates ill success, tLan the near approach to good. 
 These kind of hair-breadth missings of happiness look like the insults of 
 fortune, who may be considered as then playing tricks with us, and wan- 
 tonly diverting herself at our expense. — Fielding. 
 
 Graxby went that morning to call upon Mrs. 
 Dormer. There was a lively good sense and play- 
 ful good humour about this lady, which rendered 
 her society always agreeable to him ; and there 
 were few, if any, of his young acquaintance, with 
 whom he could pass an hour more pleasantly 
 than in the company of his elderly aunt. After 
 tattling of many other people, she fortunately 
 proceeded to mention the Jermyns ; a name 
 which Henry longed to hear, but which, for rea- 
 N 2
 
 268 GEANBY, 
 
 sons which we can easily understand, he scrupu- 
 lously abstained from introducing. 
 
 It would perhaps have been fortunate for him 
 had he been more open in his communications to 
 Mrs. Dormer — had he told her the origin of the 
 misunderstanding which existed between himself 
 and the Jermyns, and the peculiar and ambigu- 
 ous state of feeling under which they were again 
 to meet. As reconciliation was undoubtedly an 
 object which above all others he desired, he could 
 not have put the affair into a better train for that 
 purpose, than by submitting it to one who, like 
 Mrs. Dormer, would have been a kind and 
 active mediator, and was intimately acquainted 
 with both parties. But Granby had in his 
 composition a degree of reserve, a shrinking 
 delicacy, which, though generally allied to 
 many estimable qualities, is often productive 
 of difficulties, which a more open disclosure 
 might have prevented. In the present in- 
 stance he encouraged himself in this propensity, 
 by the reflection that he was but a sharer in the
 
 GRANBY. 269 
 
 secret — that in the disclosure, should he make 
 one, Carohne's name must mingle with his own. 
 He remembered, too, that his worthy uncle was 
 implicated in putting a finishing stroke to the 
 quarrel; and that without the joint permission 
 of these, he was perhaps not at liberty to dis- 
 close all he knew concerning it. Consequently 
 he had never hitherto volunteered the shghtest 
 remark to ]VIrs. Dormer respecting any member 
 of that family, but waited till they should be 
 introduced by her in the regular course of con- 
 versation. On this occasion she informed him, 
 that since he last called upon her she had seen 
 all the family, and that he would probably meet 
 them on the morrow at Lady Drayton's. 
 
 The morrow came ; and never was the mind 
 of man more cruelly stretched on the rack of 
 Anticipation, than was Henry Granby's in the 
 prospect of meeting the Jermyn family that night. 
 It was a meeting in which the sweets and bitters 
 would be curiously blended, and it were hard to 
 say which would predominate. He was to meet
 
 270 GRANBY. 
 
 for the first time under altered circumstances, 
 circumstances to what extent altered he hardly- 
 knew,) not only his early friends, but one whom 
 he would gladly call by a dearer title. Happily 
 he should meet them in a crowd, where the awk- 
 wardness would be less, and he should have a 
 better chance of seeing and talking to Caroline 
 separately , and this was a considerable consola- 
 tion. He balanced probabilities and proprieties 
 a thousand times ; considered how they were 
 likely to receive him ; and, what was more im- 
 portant, how he ought to receive them. He tried 
 and adopted by turns the distantly dignified, the 
 modestly apologetic, the grave respectful, and 
 the gay forgiving; made many proper speeches 
 from them to himself, to which he furnished very 
 neat and appropriate replies ; in short, if they 
 would but speak and act as he expected, he 
 could play his part extremely well, and stand 
 before them in a very dignified point of view. 
 
 So full were his thoughts of this subject, that 
 at the dinner-party which he joined that eveningj
 
 he was certainly not considered as an ac- 
 quisition. The dinner-party was irksome to 
 him, and he was not much better disposed 
 towards " a small evening party," where he 
 looked in on his way to Lady Drayton's, and 
 at which he left rather more than two hundred 
 " distinguished fashionables." He then got into 
 a coach; found that he did not recollect Lady 
 Drayton's number, but told the coachman that 
 it was in Upper Grosvenor-street, and that he 
 would be sure to know the house by the crowd 
 and the lights; and to avoid delay directed to 
 be set down at the end of the strins^ of 
 carriages. 
 
 He soon arrived ; got into the house ; gave 
 his name, '• ^Ir. Granby," as he thought very 
 distinctly ; heard it undergo the successive ver- 
 sions of " Cranberry," and " Banbury,' in pass- 
 ing through the mouths of several quick-eared 
 domestics, between the entrance-hall and the 
 ball-room; just saw the head of the noble hostess 
 turn abruptly as it caught her ear; made his
 
 272 GEANBY. 
 
 bow ; read in her well-bred air of suppressed 
 astonishment, a total ignorance as to who he was; 
 advanced and uttered something about " Mrs. 
 Dormer," and '' honour of her card ;" saw that 
 she was not much enlightened, and was going to 
 correct the report of his name, when her atten- 
 tion was diverted by a fresh arrival, and his in- 
 cipient explanation sunk under a thick shower of 
 '^ how do''s," from a large party of her intimate 
 friends. He therefore resigned himself quietly 
 to the misrepresentation; and turned his thoughts 
 to the pursuit of the Jermyns, who, he doubted 
 not, were already in the house. 
 
 He edged his way about the rooms ; looked 
 through every quadrille for Caroline, and along 
 every wall for Lady Jermyn ; searched the 
 supper room ; stood on the staircase, watching 
 the arrivals ; penetrated to the boudoir ; looked 
 everywhere again and again : but alas ! no Jer- 
 myns were to be seen. 
 
 There were many people at the ball whom 
 he knew ; and at length, the better to cover his
 
 GHANBY. 273 
 
 chagrin, and control his impatience, he deter- 
 mined to dance; but, though his partner was 
 well calculated to engage his attention, he was 
 ever and anon considerably " distrait^ At 
 last, one of his reveries was broken, by the 
 young lady with whom he was dancing asking 
 him if he had been that night at Lady 
 Drayton's. 
 
 " Lady Drayton's !"" said Henry, with a look 
 of surprise. 
 
 " Yes," said his fair querist, "■ she gives a 
 ball to night— it is in this street, at the other 
 end.'' 
 
 " Oh !" said our hero, in a grave quiet tone ; 
 and however greatly he was surprised and 
 disappointed, this was all he uttered on the 
 occasion. 
 
 Now, the non-appearance of the Jermyns was 
 sufficiently accounted for ; and he had been pass- 
 ing three hours in a house, of which he did not 
 know the owner's name! At this moment he 
 saw Tyrrel at the other side of the room ; and 
 n3
 
 274 GRANBY, 
 
 as soon as he had resigned his partner to her 
 chaperon, forced his way through the crowd 
 towards him. " Come this way,'"* said he to 
 Tyrrel, drawing him by the button to a les& 
 crowded corner ; and then in a kind of whisper, 
 said, '' I am going to ask you an odd question — 
 whose house am I in?" 
 
 " What do you mean ? ' said Tyrrel, staring. 
 " I mean that I have been two or three hours 
 in this house, thinking all the while I was at 
 Lady Drayton's.'' 
 
 " No ! you hav'nt ! Gad ! that's capital ! 
 and you don't know whose it is after all ?" 
 " Not the least— I want you to tell me." 
 Tyrrel was excessively amused, and it was 
 some time before Henry could learn from him 
 that the name of their hostess was Lady Charle- 
 ville. 
 
 " And now," said Henry, " I shall look for 
 the lady, explain the mistake, and make my 
 exit." 
 
 ** What are you talking of?'* said Tyrrel,
 
 GRAXBY. 275 
 
 holding him by the arm. " I did not think you 
 had been half such a green one. Why my 
 dear fellow, there is not the least occasion for 
 any sort of apology. I'll bet you five to one, 
 in anything you like, that there are fifty others 
 in this room of whom she knows as little as she 
 does of you. It is the commonest thing in the 
 world to go to a ball without an invitation. I 
 know one or two, (I shall not mention names), 
 that always go into the first lighted house they 
 come to — they ask no questions, and nobody 
 asks them any. Besides, you had much better 
 stay where you are, than go to Lady Drayton's. 
 This is much the better ball, I give you my word 
 — the other was thinning very fast when I came 
 away." 
 
 " Was there anybody there that I know .^" 
 said Henry. 
 
 " Yes, there were the Polesworths, and the 
 two Lady Grafton's — tall thin girls, and just 
 of a height — " number eleven," as somebody- 
 called them ; and then there was Lady Jermyn,
 
 276 GRANBY. 
 
 and her daughter. A fine girl the daughter i» 
 -T-she would really be perfect if she would but 
 waltz. I saw them off, just before I came here 
 —I was in hopes they were coming too." 
 " Are you sure they are not coming ?" 
 *' Quite sure — I heard them say ' home.'' 
 Come, — stay where you are, and never think of 
 explanations." 
 
 Henry was not at all convinced that his case, 
 however common, was one that required no 
 apology. He, therefore, found out Lady 
 Charleville, and explained the cause of his 
 singular mistake. The Lady laughed good- 
 humouredly at the circumstance; mentioned 
 some instances of similar mistakes which had 
 fallen witKin her knowledge; and concluded 
 by saying, that if he would leave his address, 
 she should be happy to send him a card for her 
 second ball, on that day three weeks. Gianby 
 bowed his thanks, and soon afterwards left the 
 house which had been the scene of so singular 
 a mistake, and so cruel a disappointment.
 
 GEAXBY. 277 
 
 This awful first meeting was still to come; 
 and the opportunity was so good, and he felt 
 so well prepared for the interview, that it was 
 very provoking to have missed it. He should now 
 meet them, doubtless, in some awkward, embar- 
 rassing way ; perhaps in the presence of a few 
 strangers, or, what was worse, of a few observant 
 inquisitive friends: and he straightway began 
 to figure to himself all the disagreeable circum- 
 stances which might attend a first interview. 
 One comfortable thought did enter his mind, — 
 that it was fortunate they did not know, as 
 doubtless they did not, that he was to be at 
 Lady Drayton'^s, or perhaps Caroline might 
 fancy that he wished to avoid her. This, to be 
 sure, was not very probable, but singular to 
 say, it was strictly the fact ; for Caroline had 
 been told by Mrs. Dormer that Granby was 
 to be at Lady Drayton's, and that she had held 
 out to him the prospect of meeting them there. 
 We shall not' enter into any explanation of the
 
 278 GRAKBY. 
 
 feelings with which, after this information, she 
 looked forward to Lady Drayton's ball ; we 
 have described them already ; they were an 
 exact transcript of Henry Granby's.
 
 GEAKBY. ST9 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Now am I in the region of delight ! 
 Within the blessed compass of these walls 
 She is : the gay light of those blazing lamps 
 Doth shine upon her, and this painted floor 
 Is with her footsteps pressed. 
 
 Basil.— Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Twice already had the expected meeting 
 been cruelly prevented by untoward chance, 
 and Granby now could only feed upon the hope 
 that fortune might.favour him at Mrs. Henley's. 
 Having dined in a party where Tyrrel was also 
 present, whose destination for the evening was 
 the same as his own, they went together to 
 the ball. On their arrival, their names were 
 announced, and they ascended the stairs, and
 
 S80 geanbY. 
 
 saw few symptoms of a crowd till they came 
 to the top. At this point there was a stoppage, 
 and they were obliged to bow from a distance 
 to the lady of the house, and remain stationary 
 on the upper landing place. 
 
 Mrs. Henley was at that time standing in the 
 entrance to the ball room, talking to a gentle- 
 man who was leaning with his back against 
 the wall, his head inclined slightly forward 
 with a graceful condescending bend, and with 
 the air of one who was conferring a greater 
 honour than he received. " It is Trebeck," 
 said Tyrrel, " do you know him ?" 
 
 " Only by sight and reputation," said 
 Granby, " and I do not expect to be honoured 
 with a closer acquaintance."" 
 
 " Ay, he is cursedly fine — but a good fellow 
 when you come to know him ; I shall be glad 
 to introduce you some time or other.'' 
 
 Immediately after this, on seeing him look 
 up, Tyrrel bowed, but Trebeck appeared not 
 to see him, as he did not take the shghtest
 
 CKANBY. 281 
 
 notice. " He's as blind as a beetle," said 
 Tyrrel, ^vith a forced la ugh. 
 
 An acquaintance of their's, a Mr. Selby, 
 who was standing near them, smiled as he 
 caught Granby's eye, and appeared to think 
 that Trebeck's blindness was in this instance of 
 a convenient nature. " Tyrrel, I'll bet you a 
 guinea,'' said he, " that he does not go beyond 
 the door-way." Tyrrel shook his head, and 
 declined the bet, " He never does," pursued 
 the other, " but at some select houses. He 
 stands at the entrance, and pays the compliment 
 of a few minutes talk with the lady of the 
 house, and does not commit hhnself by jostling 
 within.'' 
 
 " Horrid nonsense, all this,' said Tyrrel—** I 
 never knew a man in my life so much afraid 
 of losing caste^ 
 
 " Well he may," said Mr. Selby, « for he 
 has noyf got so high, he can scarce change his 
 place without falling. He is quite of the re- 
 cfiercht few— the pet of the exclusives. "
 
 282 GEANBY. 
 
 " He is a sad puppy, begging his pardon,""' 
 said Tyrrel, who was not a little piqued at 
 being cut. 
 
 " But he is no shallow coxcomb,'" said Mr. 
 Selby. " Trebeck is a clever fellow, you may 
 depend upon it. He had his object, and he 
 has gained it. No man has played his cards 
 better. Only consider what his address has 
 made him — what he would have been without 
 it, had he gone to sleep at his country seat, 
 and been the plain quiet person his father 
 was. 
 
 -At this moment, two ladies who were behind 
 evinced a wish to pass by them — " I beg your 
 pardon," said Tyrrel, stepping over to the 
 other side to make way for them, and then 
 exclaiming in a lively tone of recognition, "Ah! 
 Lady Jermyn, I did not see it was you."" 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Tyrrel ? — long in 
 town T"" said Lady Jermyn. 
 
 " Not long," and the ladies passed on. 
 
 Granby started at the voice and name, and
 
 GRAXBY. 
 
 turning, saw Caroline and her mother for the first 
 time, not only near him, but so near that Lady 
 Jermyn's silk dress rustled against him as she 
 passed. Their faces were both turned towards 
 Tyrrel, who was on the opposite side. Lady 
 Jermyn must have seen him ; Caroline, who 
 was on the other side of her, certainly did not ; 
 but neither of them looked his way, or appeared 
 to know that he was there, but went straight 
 on towards Mrs. Henley. 
 
 " Granby, they cut you," said Tyrrel, 
 jokingly, as the ladies moved out of hearing. 
 Granby coloured deeply, and stung, with the 
 remark, — which had a keener effect than it 
 was meant to have, — without returning an an- 
 swer to Tyrrel, instantly followed them in a 
 momentary fit of desperate feeling to the ball- 
 room, — determined if possible to break the ice, 
 and know at once upon ^^hat terms they were 
 henceforth to meet. 
 
 He came up to them at the moment when
 
 2S4i GR ANB Y . 
 
 Lady Jeraiyn was bent upon saying some- 
 thing very gracious to Mr. Trebeck, and she 
 was in the middle of her speech, when the 
 apparition of Henry Granby, whom she flat- 
 tered herself she had dexterously avoided, broke 
 abruptly on her view. She stammered — hesi- 
 tated — seemed to forget what she was saying — 
 and made such a lame and impotent conclusion 
 to the civil speech she was narrating so prettily, 
 that Trebeck looked up to discover the cause. 
 He saw Granby, with an eye wandering be- 
 tween Caroline and her mother; a step that 
 knew not whether to advance or recede ; a hand 
 half extended, half dropt ; and a lip that moved, 
 but' uttered nothing audible. Caroline visibly 
 started on seeing him, and then, with heightened 
 colour, and a countenance in which confusion 
 glowed with mingled feelings of pain, pleasure, 
 and surprise, gazed for an instant as if upon 
 a statue, forgetful of returning his imperfect 
 greeting ; while Lady Jermyn with one of the
 
 GRAXBY. 285 
 
 coldest smiles that ever froze on mortal lips, 
 slightly and stiffly bent her head, and quickly 
 turned her face away. 
 
 The irritated feehngs with which Granby 
 had advanced towards them, had subsided as 
 suddenly as they were roused. He meant to 
 have accosted them with stubborn coolness; 
 but his intended bravado was happily dispelled 
 by Caroline's involuntary gesture of surprise, 
 which at once convinced him, that she had not, 
 as he at first imagined, affected ignorance of 
 his presence. Then there was a glow of some- 
 thing on her cheek, which a liberal interpreter 
 might construe into pleasure ; and mixed as it 
 was with great embarrassment, it instantly 
 disarmed his angry pride, and he stood before 
 her irresolute and confused. He did not ad- 
 dress her — he knew not how — there was no 
 form of words that did not seem either too 
 trivial or too strong. A faint "I am glad to 
 meet you'' died upon his tongue ; so faint that 
 no one heard it. She did not speak— at least.
 
 S86 GRANBY. 
 
 not audibly — but her lips moved, and her hand 
 was half raised, — she knew not why. He saw 
 it, stepped forward and touched it as it was 
 about to be withdrawn, and then without 
 another look, passed hastily by her into the 
 thickest of the throng. 
 
 All this took place in a much shorter time 
 than is occupied by the narration ; and from 
 the silence and brevity of the interview, was 
 by no means likely to excite attention. 
 But there was one standing near them, who 
 already possessed a clue to Caroline's senti- 
 ments, and on whom the slightest indications 
 were seldom lost. Trebeck's calm, keen, deli- 
 berate eye had accurately noted every thing 
 that occurred ; and with his usual skill in draw- 
 ing inferences, he instantly detected the true state 
 of their respective feelings. But he was not 
 satisfied without surer grounds; and after a 
 short pause, as soon as Granby was out of 
 hearing, turning to Lady Jermyn, quietly 
 asked her, " Who is that.?"
 
 GRABNY. 287 
 
 " A Mr. Granby," she replied, looking 
 uneasy at the question beyond all power of 
 dissimulation, and shewing a wish to change 
 her place. 
 
 Trebeck ^r^o# to make way for her — " A 
 fine looking young man," he observed, "and 
 pray who is he ?'^ 
 
 " I believe he is a relation of the jMalton 
 family .'"' 
 
 ^' Then he is not a person you know much of?'' 
 
 " We have seen very little of him lately,*' 
 was the answer ; the indirectness of which was 
 not unnoticed. 
 
 " Ay, ay, a comparative stranger — I un- 
 derstand — a mere dancing acquaintance of ^liss 
 Jermyn's," fixing his eyes full upon Carohne 
 with a disconcerting look. 
 
 She was not proof against this attack. She 
 turned her eyes, she knew not where — nor 
 cared she, provided they did not encounter 
 those of Trebeck ; while the " eloquent blood'*
 
 288 GRANBY. 
 
 which mounted to her cheek, stoutly denied 
 the truth of the supposition. Lady Jerm3ni 
 hemmed, twitched her daughter's arm, and tried 
 to talk of something else ; but, driven out of 
 her usual address, she could only complain of 
 the heat of the room. 
 
 Trebeck made no attempt to resume his 
 subject. He had both heard and seen suf- 
 ficient. He therefore allowed them to pass, 
 but remained near them, and presently found 
 an opportunity of saying to Caroline in a low 
 tone, " Pray excuse my unlucky contretemps. 
 Am not I a sad blunderer ? But forgive me 
 this once ; speak my pardon, or look it." 
 
 Caroline did neither; and after a short silence,' 
 he added in the same under tone, " I know it 
 is your wish that our acquaintance should ap- 
 pear to be slight. It shall, since you desire it. 
 I will endeavour to obey you, even in this. 
 Do not think that I have forgotten my pro- 
 mise. It shall still be inviolable, though I now
 
 GRANBY. 289 
 
 possess the name." And here, with a melan- 
 choly and expressive look, and a half checked 
 sigh, he left her. 
 
 There is an animating influence in a well 
 filled ball-room, which soon breaks the current 
 of anxious^thought ; and Granby, after parting 
 with the Jermyns, found himself engaged, in 
 a few moments, in gay and careless conver- 
 sation. The feverish excitement of his spirits 
 had even given him a more than usual anima- 
 tion ; and ten minutes after his agitating inter- 
 view, the most intimate of his friends would 
 probably have said, that some peculiarly plea- 
 sant circumstance had been the cause of his in- 
 creased vivacity. He fell in with Mr. Duncan, 
 and had been talking for some time cheerfully 
 with him, when Trebeck gradually approached 
 them, and taking advantage of a pause in the 
 conversation, stepped forward, and asking a 
 trivia question about somebody at the other 
 side of the room, obliged Mr. Duncan io turn 
 from his companion. Henry's attention wa$ at 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 ^90 GEANBY. 
 
 the same time diverted by a lady who was 
 near him ; and Trebeck watching this oppor- 
 tunity, said to Duncan in a low voice, *' Intro- 
 duce me to your friend Granby." 
 
 " Certainly," said Duncan, looking sur- 
 prized, and with an enquiring face, that seemed 
 to ask the motive of so unusual a request, from 
 a person of such uncompromising fastidiousness 
 in the admission of an acquaintance. Trebeck 
 smiled at his air of astonishment, and seemed 
 to understand his thoughts — " His father, and 
 mine/' said he, " were old friends.'"* In fact, 
 their fathers were acquainted ; but the suppo- 
 sition of their friendship was a licence of his 
 own. However, the reason seemed to pass 
 current with Duncan, who, turning round, 
 immediately executed the office required, to 
 the no small astonishment of Granby, and 
 then left him and his new acquaintance to a 
 tete-d-tete, 
 
 Trebeck immediately entered into conversa- 
 tion, and began by speaking very handsomely
 
 GRANBr. 291 
 
 of Mr. Duncan, and in a way which led Granby 
 to conclude that he owed the unexpected honour 
 of this introduction to the good offices of that 
 gentleman. From thence he got, somehow or 
 other, but very naturally, as it seemed at the 
 time, to Lord and Lady Daventry. 
 
 *' Lady Daventry," he said, " was a Miss Jer- 
 rayn, a sister of Sir Thomas Jermyn — I have 
 met him at Lord Daventry^s — he is in parliament 
 — member for Rottentown." 
 
 '' He is — I know," said Granby. 
 
 " He has a place in shire — Brackingsley, 
 
 it is called."^ 
 
 " It is— 1 have seen it.' 
 
 '' Perhaps you know him ?'' pursued Trebeck. 
 
 " Yes, I do." 
 
 '' Oh ! you do ! What family has he ?'' 
 
 " Only one daughter." 
 
 <' Only the girl that is here to-night .'*'" 
 
 " No other." 
 
 '* Then Brackingsley will be hers, I sup- 
 pose."" 
 
 o2
 
 ^2 GRANBY. 
 
 " I suppose so, of course. — I ncTer heard any 
 thing to the contrary." 
 
 " Nor I," said Trebeck. " Well! tant mieux 
 — it is lucky for her that her face is not h€r 
 only fortune. But, perhaps you are one of those 
 who think her handsome." 
 
 " Certainly, I am," said Gran by. 
 
 '^ So you really admire her ?'" said Trebeck, 
 perseveringly. 
 
 This was rather a home question, but Granby 
 boldly answered, " Yes." 
 
 '^ A frank confession !" said Trebeck, with a 
 smile. 
 
 "Confession! of what .^" said Henry, alarmed, 
 — " I only said — " 
 
 " Only twice as much as you meant," said 
 Trebeck. *' As it is said entre notis, I will note 
 it at that. Had you been talking to a lady, I 
 should have thought you meant nothing.*" And 
 then, more effectually to quiet the apprehensions 
 which his vigilant eye had clearly marked, he 
 changed the topic, told him a ludicrous anecdote.
 
 GBANBY. 29s 
 
 and walked away before his laughter ceased ; 
 leaving in Granby's mind a pleasant impression 
 of his companionable qualities. 
 
 Granby was soon joined by Tyrrel and Selby, 
 the former of whom had been much surprised 
 at seeing him talking to Trebeck. " Why, 
 Granby," said he, " I suppose I misunderstood 
 you— but I certainly thought you told me juist 
 now that you knew Trebeck only by sight.'' 
 
 " No more I did at the time I told you so." 
 
 " You have made devihsh good haste then 
 in getting an introduction," said Tyrrel, with 
 an air of pique ; " but I suppose you were led 
 to it by the complimentary things you heard us 
 say of him/'' 
 
 " The introduction was not of my seeking,*' 
 said Granby ; " I owed it, I believe, to a com- 
 mon friend, a Mr. Duncan. It was quite a 
 matter of surprise to me." 
 
 Tyrrel made some remark upon this, to which 
 Granby did not attend ; for he heard at that
 
 S94> GRANBY. 
 
 moment the words " Chesterton how are you ?" 
 from a gentleman behind him, and " How do 
 you do, my Lord ?" in various agreeable keys, 
 from several silver-toned female voices ; and he 
 instantly turned to catch a glimpse of the person 
 who was thus addressed. His curiosity will not 
 excite surprise, when it is remembered that this 
 was the person to whom fame, " that incorrigible 
 gossip," assigned the hand of Caroline. 
 
 " Now," thought Granby, as he made himsdf 
 acquainted with his Lordship's exterior, " I 
 shall probably have an opportunity of judging, 
 from their manner of meeting, of the accuracy 
 of that report.*" With this view, he diligently 
 observed his Lordship's movements, and was 
 soon rewarded by seeing him approach Lady 
 Jermyn and her daughter. He was fortunately 
 so situated, that he could securely watch them 
 unobserved. He saw Lord Chesterton slowly 
 advance — make a cold and languid salutation, 
 which was evidently his first greeting to them that
 
 GEANBY. 295 
 
 night — say something, which it did not take half 
 a minute to utter — and then with perfect indiffer- 
 ence pass on ; while Carohne saw him come and 
 go with undisturbed serenity of countenance, 
 and a faint smile of mere civility ; and Lady 
 Jermyn let him escape with easy unconcern, and 
 a something of hauteur, which considering his 
 Lordship's expectations, those who best know 
 her would have been most surprised at 
 
 It is difficult to describe the pleasure which 
 this short scene conveyed to Granby. It was 
 conclusive. The report of the engagement 
 must have been erroneous, and Caroline was 
 still unshackled. It was next to an impossi- 
 bility, that such 'a meeting, so tame, so frigid, 
 so indifferent, so utterly deficient even in com- 
 mon cordiahty, should have taken place between 
 persons who were soon to be united to each 
 other. His heart was suddenly lightened of a 
 load which had long pressed heavily upon it— a 
 load which was rendered still more galling by 
 the sense of uncertainty, which completely pre-
 
 ^6 CttANBT. 
 
 rented him from seeking relief in the sure balm 
 of patient endurance. 
 
 The removal of an evil of long continuance, 
 is perhaps more delightful than the accession of 
 many a positive good. Most of our readers 
 must some time or other have revelled in the joy- 
 Qusness of a lightened spirit, suddenly relieved 
 from the bondage of calamity; and all such will 
 comprehend that state of unalloyed content, in 
 which Henry Granby remained long rapt after 
 his fortunate discovery. He could think of no- 
 thing else, until he Saw at a little distance Lady 
 Jermyn and Caroline, going from the ball-room 
 towards their carriage. His eyes, which were 
 brightened with pleasure, met Caroline's as she 
 passed near him. It was, in fact, the first time 
 they had met that night. The expression of his 
 was too catching to be resisted, and in this short 
 interchange of looks, she smiled. The smile 
 was seen but for an instant, and the face in which 
 it shone turned hastily away ; but fleeting as it 
 •was, it was full of eloquence to him. It revived
 
 GEANBY. 297 
 
 a host of recollections, which he had long se- 
 a*etly, but fondly cherished. It spoke of many 
 happy hours, of joyful days, of unrestrained 
 communion, of scenes too precious to be lost. 
 It put to flight all thoughts but of the present, 
 and, forgetful of the prudence which he had en- 
 joined himself, and of the presence of Lady Jer- 
 myn, he was stepping forward to hand Caroline 
 to the carriage, when a gentleman who was nearer 
 to them interposed with the offer of his arm, and 
 led her away. 
 
 Granby followed them with his eyes ; and now, 
 too full of happiness to be accessible to any 
 feelings of jealousy or repining, after a short" re- 
 verie of the purest satisfaction, he left the ball, and 
 sallied out into the fresh cool air of a summer- 
 morning — suddenly passing from the red glare 
 of lamplight, to the clear sober brightness of re* 
 turning day. He walked cheerfully onward^ 
 refreshed and exhilirated by the air of morning, 
 and interested with the scene around him. It was 
 o 3
 
 909" GRANBY. 
 
 broad day-light, and he viewed the town under 
 an aspect in which it is ahke presented to the 
 late retiring votary of pleasure, and to the early 
 rising sons of business. He stopped on the pave- 
 ment of Oxford-street, to contemplate the effect. 
 The whole extent of that long vista, unclouded 
 by the mid-day smoke, was distinctly visible to 
 his eye at once. The houses shrunk to half their 
 span, while the few visible spires of the adjacent 
 churches seemed to rise less distant than before, 
 gaily tipped with early sunshine, and much dimi- 
 nished in apparent size, but heightened in dis- 
 tinctness and in beauty. Had it not been for the 
 cool grey tint which slightly mingled with every 
 object, the brightness was almost that of noon. 
 But the life, the bustle, the busy din, the flowing 
 tide of human existence, were all wanting to com- 
 plete the similitude. All was hushed and silent ; 
 and this mighty receptacle of human beings, 
 which a few short hours would wake into active 
 energy and motion, seemed like a city of the dead.
 
 GEANBY. S99 
 
 There was little to break this solemn illusion. 
 Around were the monuments of human exertion, 
 but the hands which formed them were no longer 
 there. Few, if any, were the symptoms of life. 
 No sounds were heard but the heavy creaking of 
 a solitary waggon ; the twittering of an occasional 
 sparrow; the monotonous tone of the drowsy 
 watchman ; and the distant rattle of the retiring 
 carriage, fading on the ear till it melted into si- 
 lence : and the eye that searched for living objects 
 fell on nothing but the grim great-coated guardian 
 of the night, muffled up into an appearance of 
 doubtful character between bear and man, and 
 scarcely distinguishable, by the colour of his 
 dress, from the brown flags along which he 
 sauntered. 
 
 Granby was in a frame of mind to be agree- 
 ably struck by the peculiarities of such a scene. 
 The prosaic part of him lay dormant, and the 
 more imaginative faculties of his mind had been 
 called forth into vigorous activity by the excite-
 
 ^00 
 
 graKby. 
 
 ment of recent circumstances. He gaily pursued 
 his homeward course ; reached his door just as 
 the sun burst full upon it ; and retired to rest 
 with spirits lighter than it had lately fallen to his 
 lot to possess.
 
 GEANBY. SOI 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 As thistles wear the softest dowTi 
 
 To hide their prickles till they're growTi, 
 
 And then declare themselves, and tear 
 
 Whatever ventures to come near ; 
 
 So a smooth knave does greater feats 
 
 Than one that idly rails and threats.— Bctleb, 
 
 The first visitor whom Granby saw on the 
 morning after his meeting with Carohne, was 
 his cousin Tyrrel, who called upon him while 
 he was leisurely finishing his mid-day breakfast. 
 Among his various associates, there was no one 
 whom he saw more frequently, or with greater 
 pleasure, or by whom he seemed more sought 
 in return. After the first coldness had subsided, 
 Tyrrel manifested towards him a warmth of 
 friendship, which their close relationship and the 
 contrast of his previous conduct, could not fail 
 to render peculiarly gratifying. There was a 
 frankness in TyrrePs manner which invited 
 familiarity ; and the circumstance of his being
 
 SOZ GRAN BY. 
 
 nearly ten years older than Henry Granby, did 
 not at all appear to check the unreserved free- 
 dom of their intercourse. Tyrrel was a cheerful 
 entertaining companion. He knew the town 
 and all its characters, and was an amusing Cice- 
 rone, either in the park or on the pave, at opera 
 or ball, — as he had generally something to say 
 about " the gentleman in the cabriolet, with the 
 pyebald horse,'"* or " the lady that is waltzing, 
 with the diamond head-dress," or " that person 
 in the pea-green coat, who is just turning into 
 Bond-street/' or " the fat man that is going to 
 
 sleep in White's bow- window." 
 
 It, therefore, needed not the force of the Gene- 
 ral's injunctions, to induce Henry to cultivate the 
 society of such an associate, for whom he really 
 began to feel considerable regard. He was not, 
 however, blinded to his faults. He noticed and 
 lamented an occasional laxity of principle, and 
 an intimate acquaintance with the worst parts of 
 a town life, which did not betoken any very 
 scrupulous degree of purity.
 
 GRANBY. 303 
 
 But young men are not prone to suspicion ; 
 nor was Henry Granby disposed hastily to con- 
 demn his cousin. Gratitude for many kind- 
 nesses might perhaps ill qualify him for the 
 office of censor. He was not, however, uncon- 
 scious of one strong trait in his cousin's charac- 
 ter : a love of play. But he did not think him- 
 self in much danger of acquiring that pernicious 
 taste through this connection : for Tyrrel did 
 not appear to play much himself; nor did be 
 press him violently to engage in it. He sel- 
 dom proposed any game of chance, and seemed 
 careless about it when they did play. He was, 
 however, very fond of betting, and took fro- 
 quent opportunities of so doing, on any little 
 doubtful point which might arise in conversa- 
 tion. But he always betted low, and not very 
 judiciously; so that by the time Granby had 
 won a tolerable number of half-sovereigns, he 
 began to feel some inclination for this method 
 of closing an argument. 
 
 Tyrrel spoke charitably and pleasantly of
 
 304j granby. 
 
 play and its votaries, but at the same time, 
 calmly and temperately, and without any en- 
 thusiasm ; describing it as a pleasing, and by no 
 means a dangerous recreation ; in which, in fact, 
 everybody indulged in a more or less degree, 
 and which was only injurious in its excess. 
 Then he had a few axioms which he fre- 
 quently brought forward. Persons, he would 
 say, could seldom be ruined who played syste- 
 matically, and for the same stake. They could 
 win in one night what they lost in another. 
 There was less cheating in the world than peo- 
 ple imagined. Sharpers were bugbears, that 
 were much talked of and little seen. A regu- 
 lar leg he declared to be the best person to bet 
 with at a race ; and, he said. Gambling houses 
 were in general particularly correct, as they had 
 a character to lose. He seemed knowing, but not 
 eager, in every thing connected with the hazard 
 Jable and the turf; but of liisown proceedings he 
 said little, so that Henry could not possibly judge 
 to what extent he had engaged in either.
 
 GRANBY. 2i05 
 
 " " Granby,'' said Tyrrel to him, on the morn- 
 ing after the ball at Mrs. Henley^s, as he sat and 
 saw him eat his breakfast, *' what do you do 
 with yourself this evening ? " 
 
 " Nothing — anything. I have no engage- 
 ment but this ball," (pointing to a card) " to 
 which I am very doubtful whether I shall go. 
 I believe 1 shall fill up my time with the opera.'^ 
 
 " Well, I'm just in the same situation. I 
 wish you would come and dine with me." 
 
 '* Very willingly — but where ?'' 
 
 *" Oh ! chez moi — I hate your coffee-houses, 
 and we don't belong to the same club.'* 
 
 The hour was named, and as little after it as 
 could reasonably be expected, Henry was at 
 TyrreFs lodgings, in Jerm3m-street. He found 
 there two other persons ; a gentlemanly foreigner, 
 a Viscomte de Labrosse, and a Mr. Althorp, a 
 soft civil sleepy-looking man, with a gentle voice, 
 an obsequious bend, a quiet stealthy gait, and a 
 peculiar heaviness of eye and demureness of ex* 
 pression.
 
 306 
 
 GRANBY. 
 
 Granby was introduced to them by Tyrrel as 
 a friend and relation, with a marked and flatter- 
 ing emphasis on the word " cousin." He was 
 treated by them with great politeness and atten- 
 tion. Mr. Althorp, in particular, shewed pecu- 
 liar deference to his opinion ; and such was the 
 civility and liveliness of the party, that the hours 
 glided pleasantly away. After wit and wine had 
 long and freely circulated, Tyrrel began to 
 think of some amusement. " There are just 
 four of us," he observed ; " Granby, you are a 
 whist player— what say you to a game .^" 
 
 " With all my heart; but I thought you were 
 going to the opera." 
 
 " Oh ! damn the opera — opera and ballet are 
 both as old as Adam, and it's Thursday night ; 
 nobody will be there. Let us have some whist. 
 Althorp — Labrosse — you both play." 
 
 They could both play a little, by their own 
 account ; so the card-table was wheeled round, 
 and down they sat to whist ; and Henry had for 
 his partner the Viscomte de Labrosse, The
 
 GRANBY. 307 
 
 Stake was not what would be called high, at any 
 fashionable club, but it was higher than Granby 
 was accustomed to play, and this he ventured to 
 mention ; but he was soon made to understand, 
 that comparatively speaking, it was in reality so 
 infamously low, that except in a private way, 
 pour passer le temps, nobody " that was any 
 body *" would venture to play it ; and he was 
 therefore compelled to retract his observation. 
 
 They began to play, and Granby soon foimd 
 reason to think that it was no false modesty 
 which made the party, especially his opponents, 
 declare they could play only a Httle. Game 
 succeeded game, and he became a considerable 
 winner ; and this not always in consequence of 
 his own good cards or skill in the game, but 
 from the bad play of his opponents. His sleepy- 
 looking friend, except during the time that he 
 was Granby 's partner, appeared to play pecu- 
 liarly ill ; and yet there was a quiet adroitness 
 in his manner of dealing, shuffling, and going 
 through all the business of the card- table, which
 
 308 GRANBY. 
 
 seemed to denote the practised player. Proba- 
 bly though unskilled in whist, he was in tlie 
 habit of playing a good deal at other games. 
 Tyn-el, rather unusually, as Granby thought, 
 took very good care that none of his blunders 
 should pass unobserved, and, as if out of hu- 
 mour, even blamed him without a cause, and 
 accused him, to Granby' s surprise, of an awk- 
 ward manner of dealing and shuffling. All this 
 Mr. Althorp bore with the most laudable good 
 humour — confessing that cards were not his 
 province ; and, as if hurried by a desire to do bet- 
 ter than well, he became really awkward, dropped 
 almost half the cards in shuffling, and made a 
 missed deal when it came to his turn. 
 
 Meanwhile Granby''s winnings increased, and 
 after he had four by honours in his own hand, it 
 was proposed by Tyrrel, that the stake should 
 be doubled. The Frenchman shrugged, and 
 talked of the run of luck against him ; but made 
 no real opposition. Mr. Althorp, who was now 
 Granby's partner, closed readily with the pro-
 
 6 BAN BY. 309 
 
 posal. Granby alone objected Tyrrel looked 
 surprised, and hardly seemed to think him in 
 earnest. 
 
 " I had rather not play so high,'' persisted 
 Granby ; " it is a larger stake than I like to 
 play for.*" 
 
 " That is cautiously said for a winner like you. 
 Why, with your cards — (for a run of luck almost 
 invariably lasts the evening) — with your cards, 
 I would venture to play for four times the stake." 
 " But,'' said Henry, " I do not wish to win 
 from others what I cannot afford to lose myself." 
 *' A hberal sentiment, undoubtedly — a very 
 hberal one," said Mr. Althorp — " excellent in 
 theory; but, between ourselves, unknown in 
 practice. So now that we have applauded your 
 sentiment, as it certainly deserves, I am sure you 
 will indulge us in our little request.'' 
 
 " I am sorry," said Granby, " tobe obliged to 
 say more ; but I really was serious in my first 
 refusal." 
 
 <* So, then, you have fleeced us to our last
 
 310 GRANBY. 
 
 shilling," said Tjrrel, in a tone of half-pique, 
 " and will not give us our revenge." 
 
 " If you are so reduced," said Granby, 
 smiling, " you have less reason for doubling the 
 stake. But, as for giving you your revenge, if 
 you want to win your money back again, I shall 
 be happy" — (pulling out his watch)—" to give 
 you that opportunity for another hour ; but at 
 the same rate of pla}', if you please.*" 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Tyrrel, " you really 
 surprise me. To be so scrupulous I and a winner 
 too ! Now, what reason on earth can you pos- 
 sibly have for refusing to play, in a small quiet 
 party, at this very, very trifling stake — for it is 
 trifling comparatively." 
 
 *' I have told you my reasons," said Henry, 
 '* and I am sorry you should wish me to repeat 
 them. It is quite unnecessary, for they remain 
 the same. Pray, let the discussion end. I wiL 
 play on, as I told you, at the former stake : 
 You can have no objection to that ; and I have 
 an objection to any increase. Surely, we had
 
 GBANBY. 311 
 
 much better do that in which all the party can 
 agree." 
 
 There was a firmness, mixed with the good- 
 humour of his refusal, which effectually pre- 
 cluded all further attacks. Mr. Althorp smiled 
 as obligingly as if, in following Granby's 
 will, he had been secretly gratifying his own. 
 Tyrrel, at first, was serious and silent ; but 
 soon roused himself, and was presently in -higher 
 spirits than before. The hour quickly rolled 
 away ; and Granby, much lightened of his pre- 
 vious winning.^, took his leave of tbera for the 
 evening. 
 
 He called upon Tyrrel the next day, and 
 something being said about his new acquaint- 
 ance, and particularly the obliging Mr. Althorp. 
 " Oh, ay — Althorp," said Tyrrel, carelessly — 
 '•' what do you think of him ? A quiet simple 
 creature — isn't he ? He'll never set the 
 Thames on fire ; but he is as good a fellow 
 as ever breathed. Oh, you'll like him amaz- 
 ingly"
 
 312 GRANBY. 
 
 " Perhaps,'' said Granby, doubtingly, " I may 
 upon farther acquaintance.'" 
 
 " What ! don't you Hke him already,'' said 
 Tyrrel. " Gad ! you surprise me. Everybody 
 Hkes Jack Ahhorp." 
 
 " I dare say I am to biame," said Granby, " in 
 not hking him more than I do. But you know 
 my acquaintance with him has been very shght." 
 
 " True, so it has, and I hope you will im- 
 prove it." 
 
 " Certainly ; upon your recommendation." 
 
 " Oh, I don't press you — remember that ; 
 I only thought you would like to know him." 
 
 *' I shall be very glad, as a friend of yours. 
 Perhaps, you can give me his address." 
 
 " I can," said Tyrrel, and immediately wrote 
 it upon a card. " There's his address — but— no 
 — nothing —there it is. You need not call for a 
 day or two.' 
 
 Granby observed his hesitation, and was ra- 
 ther surprised, but took no notice, and so they 
 parted.
 
 GRAXBY. 313 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 L'on confie sou secret dans ramitie ; mais il echappe dans I'amour, 
 
 La Bruyere. 
 
 It is not to be supposed, that since the meet- 
 ing with Caroline at Mrs. Henley's, Granby's 
 mind had not frequently dwelt upon that event. 
 He often recounted to himself every circum- 
 stance, even the most trivial, by which her man- 
 ner was then characterized ; and he laboured to 
 draw from these slender materials some judg- 
 ment of the state of her feelings. He was deeply 
 plunged in this interesting study, and was aid- 
 ing his meditations with the long-treasured lock 
 of her hair, which lay on the table before him, 
 when Tyrrel's step was heard upon the stairs, 
 and he had scarcely time to cram it hastily into 
 
 VOL. 1. p
 
 314* GRANBY. 
 
 his pocket, between the leaves of his pocket- 
 book, before the door was thrown open, and 
 his visitor entered. 
 
 After talking some little time about the other 
 day's Levee, Eton Montem, state of the odds for 
 the Derby and Oaks, a trotting-match on the 
 Richmond road, and sundry other topics of the 
 day, he came to the real purport of his visit, and 
 asked Granby if he had yet called upon Mr. 
 Althorp. Granby had not. 
 
 " Then you need not ; he is out of town. By 
 the bye, I gave you a wrong address ; will you 
 give it me again ? " 
 
 " I shall make no use of it, if it is a wrong 
 one ; but do you want the card again ? " 
 
 " Yes — ^yes, give it me,'** said Tyrrel, impa- 
 tiently ; '' where is it ? Of course you can find 
 it. I remember you put it into your pocket- 
 book ; just see if it is not there." 
 
 Granby took out his pocket-book, opened it, 
 found the card, and delivered it ; and at that 
 unlucky moment the lock of hair, which he had
 
 GRANBY. 315 
 
 slid in, he did not know where, between the 
 leaves, dropped out, and fell on the ground. 
 
 " A prize, by Jove ! " said Tyrrel, seizing it ; 
 " a lock of hair, and a woman's too ; nay — keep 
 off — as I have got it, I'll see it ;'^ retreating all 
 the while with the lock. 
 
 " Pshaw, nonsense ! Tyrrel, what can you 
 want with it ! come, give it back." 
 
 " Not till I ve looked at it — I dare say the 
 name is in the paper." 
 
 " You will not find it." 
 
 " No more I can, so I'll trouble you to tell it me.^' 
 
 " Tell you ! not I." 
 
 " You won't .?'» 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " Hem, hem — it is so, is it ?"" said Tyrrel. 
 " You are troubled with dehcacies on that head ? 
 Come, I'U guess, to break the ice. I think I 
 know the sort of person ; some damsel, retired 
 from the cares of the world, in a snug white 
 house, with Venetian blinds, an easy mile or two 
 out of town."' 
 
 p2
 
 316 GllANBY. 
 
 Henry indignantly repelled the charge. 
 
 " Aye, that's right — look properly shocked ; 
 but you know, my fine fellow, honest people 
 will make strange guesses, if gay Lotharios, like 
 yourself, carry locks of hair in their pocket- 
 books, and are so shy of accounting for them." 
 
 " I am not obliged to account for them to 
 any one; but Til thank you, notwithstanding, 
 to be less free in your reflections upon the lady 
 whose hair it is." 
 
 " I humbly beg the incognito's pardon, with 
 all my heart and soul," said Tyrrel ; " but since 
 it is a modest flame, I think that, without any 
 prejudice to your prospects, you might contrive 
 to gratify my innocent wish for information. So, 
 who is your fair friend.?" 
 
 " I don't mean to tell you. Come, return it.'' 
 
 " Softly, Sir, another look. If you won't tell 
 me, I shall try to guess." 
 
 " It is to no purpose." 
 
 " Is it not ? Let me see— I have it, Granby. 
 Five to one I name the winning one. It is
 
 GRANBY. 317 
 
 Miss Jermyn. Ha ! Pm right ! It is — it actually 
 is ; you have not the face to deny it." 
 
 It was with some reason he said this; for his 
 unexpectedly lucky guess seemed at once to elec- 
 trify Granby, who hastily restored the hair in 
 silence to the pocket-book, and did not attempt 
 even the faintest denial; while Tyrrel rubbed 
 his hands with triumphant glee, and freely in- 
 dulged in long and loud laughter. 
 
 " And pray, sweet Sir," continued he, " allow 
 me to ask, how long have you carried this costly 
 relic? and how was the rape of the lock con- 
 trived ? — was it a free gift, or a case of lover's 
 larceny? and was it ' stolen from the person,' 
 and ' in a dwelling-house,' or gratefully tendered 
 in the open air, embowered with myrtle, in the 
 presence of a conscious bed of heartease ?" 
 
 " You are asking an infinity of questions, not 
 one of which will have any answer." 
 
 '* Never mind, I can fancy it all. You first 
 carried her work-box by storm, and secured the 
 scissors ; then you introduced the subject with a 
 p3
 
 318 GRANBY. 
 
 satire on hair-dressers, or said something a prO" 
 pos of ringlets; then talked of love- locks, and 
 'absence, 'and 'lasting memorials;' and then 
 you made bold to insinuate your request — l)eat- 
 ing the devil's tattoo all the while with your foot, 
 and looking, I warrant you, any way but the 
 right ; and then, after reasonable delay, she cut 
 off the lock with her own fair hands, and you 
 received it on one knee, after the manner of the 
 ancients, and she gave you the tip of her finger 
 to kiss ; and then — *" 
 
 " No more of this, for heaven's sake ; I can- 
 not bear much more provocation, so quit the 
 subject — " 
 
 " — And the room, eh ? Neither, by your 
 leave," throwing himself into an arm-chair ; " I 
 have a deal of curiosity to satisfy, and I don't 
 mean to quit this chair 'till I have heard both the 
 long and the short of this affair of yours But, 
 really, Granby, I had no suspicion of this at all : 
 and yet, now I know it, I can call to mind some 
 things that pa>ssed the other night, that I could
 
 GRAN'BY. 319 
 
 not account for at the time. I remember you 
 looked as if you could have stabbed me, when I 
 only observed that the ladies had cut you. And 
 then, Lady Jermyn— I remember her face ; 
 warm and friendly, wasn't slie ? very ingra- 
 tiating in her manner, eh ?" 
 
 " It is past now ; it does not signify what she 
 was.'* ' 
 
 " Oh no, not at all ; but I think I begin to 
 understand. The old she dragon guards the fruit 
 a little too closely — eh ? doesn't she ? Well, 
 well, it is a nice little golden pippin, really, and 
 well worth the watching, and the gathering too, 
 my boy ; and, if you are bent on a ' lass wi"" a 
 tocher,' I don't see how you can choose much 
 better.'" 
 
 " Your imagination is really very active; it 
 is a pity to check such flights of fancy ; but I 
 must take the liberty to remind you, that you 
 are making up a story that has not been sup- 
 ported by a single syllable from me." 
 
 " No, certainly, to do you justice, you have
 
 320 GBANBY. 
 
 been confoundedly uncommunicative ; you have 
 said nothing, I verily beheve, that might not be 
 trumpeted at Charing-Cross. But you have de- 
 nied nothing — remember that ; and ' silence gives 
 consent,' you know ; so spare yourself the trou- 
 ble of explaining it away ; my mind is made up; 
 I see it all; and I'll leave you at parting an 
 old saw to work upon : ' Faint heart never won 
 fair lady.' So, my dear fellow," (slapping him 
 on the shoulder) " as this is the crisis of your 
 fate, be advised by a friend in need; adjust 
 your thoughts and your hair, your speech and 
 your cravat ; and then rise, go forth, and pro- 
 pose yourself.'** 
 
 " Enough of this, in all conscience, Tyrrel," 
 said Granby, impatiently. 
 
 '• Or if," continued the other, without notic- 
 ing his manner, " you cannot pluck up courage, 
 intrust it to me, and I'll engage to propose 
 for you." 
 
 " You had better propose on your own ac- 
 count," said Granby, in an ironical tone.
 
 GRANBY. 321 
 
 '' You advise me, do you ?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly ; and set about it while you 
 think of it.*' 
 
 " Very well ; adieu," said Tyrrel, taking up 
 his hat. 
 
 " Stay one instant Tyrrel," said Granby, 
 who began to consider that as his companion 
 was now in )X)Ssession of the secret, it became 
 desirable to treat with him for the safe custody. 
 '' Stop one instant." 
 
 " Why what's in the wind now ?" 
 
 " I must request," pursued Granby, seriously, 
 " that you will never mention to any person 
 what has passed between us this morning." 
 
 " Well!'"" said Tyrrel, shaking him heartily 
 by the hand, *' I will promise truly and faith- 
 fully^ subscribe to articles in writing — do any- 
 thing in the world to comfort you. Will you 
 have my promise under hand and seal .?" 
 
 " No, of course not. Give me your word.'' 
 
 *' Well then ; stay, let me rehearse. What
 
 322 GRANBY. 
 
 have I engaged to do ? To keep inviolably 
 secret your possession of a lock of hair, once the 
 property of Miss Jermyn, and to conceal your 
 unhappy attachment to the said Miss Jermyn, 
 even, I suppose, from the lady herself." 
 
 Granby smiled and nodded assent. 
 
 " But I do not see," pursued Tyrrel, " after 
 all, why you are so anxious about it. If the 
 world were to know of the gift, it might be sup- 
 posed to have been received and kept by you 
 without any serious meaning on either side.'* 
 
 " I made a promise at the time," said Granby, 
 " that it never should be seen or mentioned, 
 and that is the reason I make such a point of 
 exacting this secrecy." 
 
 " That explains it perfectly," said Tyrrel ; 
 ^' and now, after all the nonsense that I have 
 been talking, let me tell you plainly and simply 
 before I go, that this discovery gives me great 
 pleasure — that I congratulate you upon your 
 situation — and that you have my best wishes for
 
 GRANBY. 323 
 
 a happy arrangement." Having said this 
 with great friendship and sincerity of manner, 
 he took up his hat and left him. 
 
 Granby was much mortified by this little dis- 
 covery. His cousin's raillery had acted power- 
 fully upon his galled feelings ; and though much 
 comforted by his promise of secresy, and the 
 softened tone with which he left him, the vexa- 
 tion long continued, and he frequently recurred 
 to the untoward accident which revealed his 
 secret. However, he bore the evil as well as he 
 was able, and as he could not help what had 
 happened, he resolved to think no more about 
 it. His principal object was a second meeting 
 with the Jermyns. The first, but for the part- 
 ing smile of Caroline, would have left no feeling 
 but disappointment ; and even with that, it was 
 barely consolatory. Besides, as no conversation 
 had yet passed, he felt that the ice was scarcely 
 broken, and the awkwardness of a first meeting 
 by no means satisfactorily removed. Thus cir- 
 cumstanced, he evidently longed for a second
 
 324 GRANBY. 
 
 opportunity of seeing them, and internally re- 
 solved, that when such might occur, it should 
 not pass like the first in silence. 
 
 But day succeeded day, and the wished-for op- 
 portunity never came ; and for almost a fortnight 
 did Henrv Granby industriously frequent every 
 likely place of public resort, without seeing the 
 only face he cared to meet. He could not ac- 
 count for this. Perhaps she was unwell. Perhaps 
 she was out of town. No, that was not probable. 
 They had but lately come up ; and he read in 
 a morning paper, in the report of the debates, 
 the gratifying assurance that " Sir T. Jermyn 
 supported the Bill, and expressed his entire con- 
 currence with the sentiments of the last speaker;" 
 it was therefore plain that he was still in town. 
 
 EKD OF VOL. I. 
 
 SHACKELL, ARROTTSMITH AND HODCES, JOHNSON'S-COfftT, 
 FLEKT-STEEET.
 
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