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 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 University of Illinois Library 
 
 I^UGZO 
 
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 L161— H41
 
 LI E> RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVLR5ITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 Lsass
 
 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 VOL. I,
 
 In the Press, 
 
 WEDDED LIFE IN THE UPPER RANKS. 
 
 3 Vols. Post 8vo.
 
 STORIES 
 
 OF 
 
 A BRIDE 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF THE MUMMY., 
 
 " I hare no hope that does not dream for tliee ; 
 
 I have no joy that is not shared by thee. 
 
 All that I once took pleasure in — my lute 
 
 Is only sweet when it repeats thy name. 
 
 My flowers, I only gather them for thee ; 
 
 The book drops listless down, 1 cannot read, 
 
 Unless to thee." miss LANDON. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY, 
 NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 1829.
 
 J. B. NICHOLS, ANU SON, 25, PARUAMENT-STREET.
 
 I "IJiS^ 
 
 CO 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 r 
 
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 ? VOL. 1,
 
 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 She was a paragon ; lier beauties such 
 
 As love to bask upon the poet's page ; 
 
 The starry lustre of her speaking eyes, 
 
 Her brow, her hair of hyacinthine bloom, 
 
 And neck of swan- like grace ; all seemed divine ; 
 
 When with the lightness of a cloud she walked 
 
 Her chamber, or amid the ball-room blazed. 
 
 Robert Montgomery. 
 
 I WAS born with three claims to admiration. 
 Nature gave me beauty; education a certain 
 smartness, which in me passed for wit ; and for- 
 tune made me an heiress : the last qualification 
 undoubtedly setting off the two first, as it must 
 be confessed, that even a diamond looks much 
 better when handsomely set, than when just 
 taken from the mine ; yet with all these advan- 
 B 2
 
 4 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 tages, both natural and acquired, I have never 
 long been quite happy; I have always felt a 
 vacuum, a tedium vitce, a want of something 
 piquant to give flavour to the dull realities of 
 life, 2ije ne sais quoi which cannot be expressed, 
 and which yet is perfectly comprehensible. There 
 must be a fault somewhere, and to endeavour to 
 find it out, I will relate my history. 
 
 My father was a man of large fortune, and I 
 was his only child : my mother died giving me 
 birth ; and my father, in a transport of despair, 
 vowed to devote his future life entirely to the 
 care of my education. 
 
 " Dear relic of my departed Emily ! " ex- 
 claimed he, apostrophizing me as I lay in my 
 nurse's arms, when I had the honour of making 
 my first appearance in his presence, " no after 
 cares shall ever divert my mind from the pleas- 
 ing task of imparting the rudiments of instruc- 
 tion unto thine. From this moment I forswear 
 the world ; I will retire to the country, and there, 
 secluded from society, my whole time shall be 
 devoted to the delightful employment of train- 
 ing thy infant steps to virtue. No hireling go-
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 verness shall interfere in this sacred duty, and 
 on me alone shall devolve the great, the import- 
 ant charge." 
 
 My father was an enthusiast in every thing, and 
 rapid in all he said or did. His favourite axiom 
 was, that only the shortest possible time should 
 elapse between the conception of a great design 
 and its execution ; and, unlike axiomists in ge- 
 neral, he practised what he taught ; accordingly, 
 the moment that he had determined to retire 
 from society, in order to devote himself to me, 
 he gave orders for the breaking up of his town 
 establishment, and would have commenced my 
 education tout de suite, had not my nurse re- 
 spectfully hinted, that I was only a few days old, 
 and that it was not customary to teach babies 
 any science till they could speak. The funeral 
 of my mother, and the necessity of erecting an 
 elegant monument to her memory, luckily se- 
 conded this wise suggestion; and my father's 
 mind was soon too fully occupied in discussing 
 the comparative merits of Gothic and Grecian 
 architecture, to allow him to waste a single 
 thought on me. Whilst he was meditating on
 
 6 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 temples and urns, and perplexing himself with 
 every possible order of columns, all was well ; 
 but, unfortunately, buildings cannot be in pro- 
 gress for ever, and the mausoleum was finished 
 before my reasoning faculties were sufficiently 
 developed to enable me to receive instruction. 
 Consequently, when my father, with a constancy 
 of purpose very unusual to him, sent for me into 
 his library to commence my education, about 
 twelve months after my mother's death, he found 
 me so stupid that he gave up the task in despair. 
 " It is very strange,'' said he, as he rang for 
 my nurse, and I made my exit in a violent fit 
 of crying, " that the passions begin to develope 
 themselves so much sooner than the understand- 
 ing. Incipient vanity sparkled in the eyes of 
 that little creature when I showed her my watch, 
 and anger now swells in her youthful bosom, yet 
 her mind is a perfect blank." My father paused, 
 and fell into a fit of musing, from which he only 
 roused himself to take down and examine the 
 different authors who have written upon the de- 
 velopement of the human mind ; unfortunately 
 their theories did not correspond with his expe-
 
 THE BRIDE. 7 
 
 rience; and, after a fruitless study of some 
 hours, he threw them aside, and employed him- 
 self in sketching out a plan for my education. 
 
 Nothing could be more perfect than this syl- 
 logistical synopsis, as he termed it. I was to 
 unite the knowledge and intellect of the one sex, 
 with the softness and fascination of the other. I 
 was to be learned without pedantry, accom- 
 plished without vanity, and witty without affec- 
 tation; in short, as there is no telling half what 
 I was to have been, it will be quite enough if I 
 can contrive to say what I was. 
 
 "When the plan for my education was quite 
 completed ; when it had been read, and re-read, 
 and received sundry revisions and corrections, 
 my father was at a loss for something fresh to 
 do : his mind was too active to remain unem- 
 ployed, and after his public and eclatant renun- 
 ciation of the pleasures of society, it would have 
 been very awkward to return to them so soon. 
 An entire devotion to books is only suited to a 
 passive disposition, and my father wanted to 
 have his energies excited. After much medita- 
 tion, he determined to turn farmer, and certainly
 
 8 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 found in that employment not the least paucity 
 of excitement. My father's ideas were always 
 grand ; indeed, they were generally so far too 
 big for the head which was to hold them, as to 
 be quite unmanageable; accordingly, when he 
 turned agriculturist, experimentalist, and im- 
 prover, it was upon a large scale. He took 
 thousands of the best acres of his estate into his 
 own hands, and supported whole armies of la- 
 bourers. He tried every kind of known inven- 
 tion, and when these were exhausted, fancied 
 new ones ; thus banishing ennui ; as he always 
 thought himself upon the very point of realizing 
 immense wealth by his discoveries, only, un- 
 luckily, like the credulous alchymist of anti- 
 quity, he found that his riches remained always 
 " upon the very verge of projection," but never 
 advanced any farther; still, however, in the 
 genuine spirit of his class, he was not dis- 
 couraged, but went plotting on. 
 
 In the mean time I was quite forgotten. My 
 father had accustomed himself to look too far 
 abroad to be able to contract his sphere of 
 vision, so as to see what was passing at home :
 
 THE BRIDE. 9 
 
 and whilst he was maturing a plan for the in- 
 troduction of cucumbers into Spitzbergen, and 
 field warming-pans into Worcestershire, I was 
 suffered to run wild about the house, and do 
 whatever I pleased, as no one dared to contra- 
 dict me. I thus grew up in beautiful simplicity, 
 associating with no companion but a great New- 
 foundland dog ; and instead of being a model 
 of perfection in all accomplishments, I was in 
 imminent danger of reaching maturity without 
 knowing my alphabet, had not the good old 
 housekeeper, when I had attained my tenth 
 year, declared it was a sin and shame to bring 
 up a Christian child like a savage, and heroic- 
 ally devoted herself to the herculean tasks of 
 teaching me to read a chapter in the Bible, and 
 to hem a pocket handkerchief. 
 
 At this interesting period, a visit from my 
 father's sister. Lady Arlington, formed a new- 
 epoch in my life. She had resided many years 
 at Vienna, her husband having filled a diploma- 
 tic situation at that court. He was now dead, 
 and she had returned to England a rich and 
 childless widow, determined to adopt, if possible, 
 B 5
 
 10 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 the daughter of her only brother. She had 
 never seen me, but she had heard that I had 
 been brought up in the country, and as she 
 knew nothing of rural life but from books, she 
 had painted to herself a blooming innocent, 
 lovely, though unadorned; graceful, though un- 
 taught ; v^^ho possessed a mind so naturally dis- 
 posed to elegant refinement, as to kindle imme- 
 diately from the Promethean torch of her man- 
 ners, and who only had occasion to be seen to 
 be admired. With these impressions it may be 
 easily supposed that she was exceedingly anxi- 
 ous for me to make my appearance in her pre- 
 sence, and when I did — ah dio ! what an im- 
 pression I made ! I knew too little of the forms 
 of society, and was too much accustomed to con- 
 sider myself a person of importance to feel 
 afraid of any one, so the moment I heard that 
 my aunt was arrived, I rushed into the room to 
 embrace her, with earth-soiled hands, streaming 
 Jiair, torn frock, and dirty face. Lady Arling- 
 ton screamed, and shrank back in affright. 
 " Mon Dieu ! '^ cried she, " is it possible that
 
 THE BRIDE. 11 
 
 this creature can be my niece ! Quelle bete ! 
 ahsolutement elle a Vair sauvage ! " 
 
 Even my father looked at me with astonish- 
 ment. " This is the fault of her nurse," said 
 he ; " the child was no doubt impatient to see 
 you ; but they should not have suffered her to 
 appear thus. Come hither, Emily, you alarm 
 your aunt." 
 
 I obeyed in silence, for, young as I was, my 
 vanity was excessively mortified by my aunt's 
 manner, and 1 could not comprehend how 1 
 could be an object of disgust to any one. Lady 
 Arlington bedewed her handkerchief with eau 
 de Cologne, and applied it incessantly to her 
 face. My father was vexed ; " You know Emily 
 has been brought up in retirement," said he, 
 in an extenuating tone, '' and it is hardly fair 
 to expect her manners to be perfectly polished." 
 
 " 1 did not expect her to be polished, but I 
 could not fancy her thus. The child is a per- 
 fect monster. Look how she stands ; she will 
 certainly grow awry." 
 
 " It is not surprising that she is deficient in 
 external graces, .or she has been only under my
 
 12 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 care, and men cannot attend to trifles. You 
 know that I have devoted myself to her educa- 
 tion; indeed, I believe that I sent you, some 
 time since, a copy of my plan ; it is really so 
 excellent that 1 mean to put it in execution im- 
 mediately, and as the child's mind polishes, her 
 body will gradually acquire grace.'' 
 
 " But it is ten years since you sent me that 
 plan ; and you own that your daughter's educa- 
 tion is yet in embryo. It must be confessed 
 that though your designs be excellent, they take 
 a long time to carry them into execution. How- 
 ever it is too late to repent, and we must endea- 
 vour to remedy her awkwardness in town ; she 
 must have lessons in calisthenics immediately." 
 
 Durino: this conversation I had looked alter- 
 nately at the speakers, indescribably hurt to dis- 
 cover the mean opinion they seemed both to 
 entertain of my acquirements, which a pause at 
 length gave me an opportunity to display. " I 
 can read," said I sullenly. 
 
 My aunt smiled, and my father looked aghast. 
 I thought they still doubted my powers, and pull- 
 ing an old dirty, and torn spelling-book from my
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 13 
 
 pocket, I began to murder some verses of the 
 Psalms with a nasal drawl and provincial intona- 
 tion, which seemed absolutely to paralyze my fa- 
 ther, whose ear was nice even to fastidiousness, 
 but which made my aunt laugh immoderately. 
 " I congratulate you most sincerely," said she, 
 addressing her brother, " on the promising fruit 
 of your cares. En verite, la petite a Pair mig- 
 nonne !" 
 
 My father was horror-struck. 
 " How is this?" exclaimed he, ringing the 
 bell so vehemently, that a servant appeared in- 
 stanter. " Who has dared to teach my child 
 this vile jargon ? " 
 
 " Lord, sir. Miss is only reading the Psalms." 
 " Who has taught her, I say ? " stamping. 
 « Mrs. Stevens." 
 " Send her to me instantly." 
 The old butler disappeared, and would have 
 taken me with him, but my father grasped my 
 arm, and woidd not permit me to stir. Stevens 
 soon obeyed the summons. 
 
 " How dared you presume to attempt to in- 
 struct your young lady."
 
 14 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Lord, sir," falling upon her knees, " pray 
 forgive me. Miss was growing up worse nor an 
 heathen." 
 
 " Come come, brother," said Lady Arling- 
 ton, " this poor, simple old woman meant no 
 harm. In fact she has done her duty better 
 than you have yours. I thought your foolish 
 speculations had only injured your fortune; but 
 I am shocked to find that, had it not been for 
 my opportune arrival, they would have occa- 
 sioned the ruin of my poor niece. Give her 
 up now entirely to my care, and confess that 
 you were not equal to the task you had so rashly 
 undertaken." 
 
 " You are quite mistaken in your opinion of 
 my plans. Success is not always the test of me- 
 rit, and though some of my agricultural specula- 
 tions have not been completely fortunate, it does 
 not follow that all will be equally unlucky. 
 The man who makes two blades of grass spring 
 where one only grew before, is undoubtedly the 
 noblest benefactor to his country." 
 
 " Even if he neglect his only child ?" 
 
 " You do not see the thing in its right light.
 
 THE BRIDE. 15 
 
 Women are never capable of taking enlarged 
 views of a subject ; besides, Emily was not for- 
 gotten ; it is true that her education was not yet 
 begun, but I had laid down a plan, and if she 
 had had patience to wait a little longer — " 
 
 " Really the precocity of her genius was very 
 provoking; for if she had waited, probably, 
 judging by the haste you have already displayed, 
 she might have learnt her alphabet in the course 
 of the next thirty years." 
 
 " Well, it is useless to recriminate ; you shall 
 take the child, and we shall see how she will 
 improve under your care." 
 
 In consequence of this half ungracious per- 
 mission, it was ordered that I should be washed 
 and dressed, and my clothes packed up, in order 
 that I might accompany my aunt back to town. 
 My heart was nearly broken at this intimation ; 
 I had taken a violent dislike to Lady Arlington, 
 and I was very sorry to leave my Newfoundland 
 dog and little Martha, the infant daughter of a 
 deceased servant, who had been taken into the 
 Castle to be my plaything, and of whom I was 
 excessively fond. My aunt, when informed of
 
 16 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 my grief, would willingly have pacified me by 
 permitting me to take my favourites with me, 
 but a great Newfoundland dog and a servant's 
 child of two years old would have been such 
 atrocities in the town establishment of a woman 
 of fashion, that I was reluctantly compelled to 
 submit. 
 
 " I am afraid the child will be very plain, 
 Harris," said my aunt to her favourite soubrette, 
 when I was brought before her, prepared for my 
 journey. 
 
 " Oh, my lady, she is such a Goth at present," 
 replied the travelling waiting maid ; " but in 
 town, under able tuition, and with your lady- 
 ship's example before her eyes, and your lady- 
 ship's manners to copy — " 
 
 " You think she may become tolerable," said 
 her ladyship, smiling; "but she is so fat, and 
 has such a complexion ; ough ! she is really 
 hideous." 
 
 " A vapour bath, my lady, constant medical 
 regimen, and assiduous cares, will do much; 
 especially as Nature has given her fine eyes." 
 
 " And that is almost the only thing that art
 
 THE BRIDE. 1*7 
 
 cannot give,'* said the lady, sighing; then call- 
 ing me to her, she examined my features atten- 
 tively, pronouncing them better than she had 
 supposed, and praising my long eye-lashes so 
 extravagantly, that I felt already more than half 
 reconciled to my fate, and I departed from my 
 paternal home, if not with pleasure, at least with 
 resignation. 
 
 On my arrival in town, where, I may observe, 
 en passant, that I was sui-prised at all I heard and 
 all I saw, I was placed under the care of a French 
 governess, who was strictly enjoined not to let 
 me speak a single word of English, to make me 
 abhor vulgarity, and to watch incessantly over 
 my manners. I believe no other directions were 
 thought necessary, as, indeed, diese points com- 
 prehend all that French governesses are ever 
 expected to perform. Masters, however, of 
 every description were engaged to supply the 
 deficiency, and my education was regularly com- 
 menced, according to the rules of bon ton, 
 
 I do not pretend to remember the names of 
 half the things I was taught; for one science 
 followed another in such quick succession, that a
 
 18 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 jumble of hard words was all I ever knew of any 
 of them. Nature had given me a good ear, and 
 I easily became a proficient in music and danc- 
 ing. I also learnt to speak French and Italian 
 passably ; but there I stopped. My genius had 
 exhausted itself, and all the rest was — blank. 
 My manners, however, had become polished, 
 and my person graceful; my superabundant 
 flush had vanished; my complexion had grown 
 clear, and my features comme ilfaut ; in short, 
 in four years my aunt expressed herself satisfied, 
 and presented me in triumph to my father, who, 
 about that period, having succeeded to an earl- 
 dom by the death of a distant relation, came up 
 to town to take the oaths and his seat as a mem- 
 ber of the British Senate. 
 
 My aunt was delighted at this new dignity, 
 and the accession of wealth which attended it 
 was exceedingly acceptable to my father, as he 
 was just then beginning to discover that specu- 
 lating is a very expensive amusement. He was 
 pleased with my appearance and manners ; but 
 when he heard me speak, he found fault with my 
 French accent.
 
 THE BRIDE. 19 
 
 " I would venture a thousand pounds," said 
 he, " that the girl does not read English better 
 than she did before she left home, notwithstand- 
 ing her accomplishments." 
 
 Nothing could exceed my aunt's indignation 
 at such a supposition, and, after discussing the 
 point with much warmth, she desired me to de- 
 claim some verses which had been just sent her 
 by a patron-seeking poet, to convince my father 
 of his mistake. I began : 
 
 ** Now clouds, and all the gloomy train of night give way, 
 And Sol's ap]'earance heralds in the day." 
 
 " "Appearance," observed my aunt, in an 
 audible whisper. I went on : 
 
 *' With perseverance now I climb the hill." 
 
 My father laughed, and my aunt, mortified 
 at the success of his expedient, dismissed my 
 French governess, and took an English one: 
 under whose care, by diligent attention, I learnt 
 in time to pronounce my native language so as 
 to be understood. The next two years of my 
 existence were perfectly wretched. I was too old 
 to be a child, and not old enough to be a woman. 
 If I wanted any dress which particularly pleased
 
 20 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 my fancy, or if I wished to go to a concert, ball, 
 or opera, I was told that I must wait till I was 
 " out;" or if I objected to be trotted into the 
 dining-room at dessert, still, till I was " out," the 
 case was sans remede. In fact, this coming out 
 seemed like getting into heaven out of purga- 
 tory, and I panted for it accordingly. I do not 
 know exactly what I expected ; but it was some- 
 thing gay, brilliant, and delightful, and quite 
 different from any thing that I had ever expe- 
 rienced before, which last perfection was, I be- 
 lieve, to say truth, its greatest charm. It is not 
 surprising that I longed for change, as the life 
 of a young lady educated at home is certainly 
 the most monotonous that can be imagined; 
 particularly if she has no sisters, and is nearly 
 approaching the moment of emancipation. But 
 if my sufferings were great during this period, 
 they were nothing compared to those of my 
 unfortunate governess. Poor creature ! shut 
 up all day in our dull school-room, looking only 
 on a dead wall, and secluded from all society but 
 mine; her only hopeof change was going to church 
 on a Sunday, and her only relaxation a walk
 
 THE BRIDE. 21 
 
 round the garden in the centre of the square in 
 which we resided ; a promenade only equalled in 
 elegance and variety, by that of a squirrel running 
 round the wheel of his cage. If the doctrine of 
 transmigration be true, and we do penance in 
 one state of existence for the sins which we have 
 committed in another, what wicked creatures go- 
 vernesses must have been ! Even worse than the 
 souls shut up in hackney-coach horses. 
 
 At sixteen I was presented, and of course was 
 instantly surrounded by crowds of adorers, who 
 were lavish in praise of my beauty, my talents, 
 my wit, in short every thing but my fortune ; 
 which, being a thing of no consideration in the 
 eyes of necessitous young men of fashion, no 
 doubt entirely escaped their notice. As I was 
 an heiress, and consequently did not want to 
 marry for an establishment ; and, as romance 
 did not happen to be in fashion, I had no temp- 
 tation to fall in love ; the ordinary provocation 
 of acting agrainst the will of cross relations was 
 also wanting ; for my father and aunt, who were 
 both a thousand times more romantic than my- 
 self, seemed to expect, as I was rich, that, as a
 
 22 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 matter of course I must fix my affections upon 
 some one who was poor. My aunt actually 
 seemed almost disappointed when she found 
 that I overlooked all the handsome youths of 
 slender expectations who presented themselves 
 before me, and that I liked myself too well to 
 think much of any one else. 
 
 My father, indeed, had no leisure to bestow 
 many thoughts upon me ; for his ardent mind 
 was now entirely engrossed by a new subject. 
 He had made a speech soon after taking his 
 seat in the House of Lords, which had been 
 warmly applauded, and he now thought of 
 nothing but politics. No persuasions could 
 induce him to relinquish a debate ; he spoke on 
 every question, and voted in every division. 
 No one exceeded him in patriotism, though I 
 really forget whether he was a whig or a tory ; 
 and in the days I speak of, there was some 
 difference between them. I only know that his 
 speeches were generally two hours long, and 
 that upon important occasions, he used to send 
 for me into the library, that I might hear him 
 rehearse. Hours of penance ! how I used to
 
 THE BRIDE. 23 
 
 rejoice when ye were over; yet I loved my 
 father, but unfortunately I had no genius for 
 politics, and did not like long speeches. 
 
 I had a large fortune from my mother ; and as 
 every one knew that if my father did not marry 
 again, a circumstance that seemed by no means 
 probable, I should in due time become Coun- 
 tess of Montressor, in my own right, with all the 
 funds, lands, and tenements, thereunto belong- 
 ing, I had innumerable offers, more, I verily be- 
 lieve, than the once celebrated Harriet Byron, 
 though I certainly could not boast that I pos- 
 sessed half the charms of that paragon of per- 
 fection. No Sir Charles Grandison, however, 
 " bowed upon my hand ; " and no one certainly 
 ever ran away with me. Lovers take things more 
 quietly now than they did fifty years ago. I am 
 sure I do not know why, though, I dare say, in- 
 genious hands might trace the cause to the Na- 
 tional Debt, the Court of Chancery, or the Ca- 
 tholic Question ; for I remember, during my po- 
 litical studies, that they seemed the roots of all 
 evil. 
 
 None of my lovers, luckily, being desperate,
 
 24 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 I enjoyed, in their fullest extent, those halcyon 
 days of woman's life, when all appears en cou- 
 leur de rose ; when beauty is in its brightest 
 bloom, and admiration gives animation to so- 
 ciety, till suddenly my happiness received a se- 
 vere shock from the death of my father. He 
 caught cold while waiting in the lobby for his 
 carriage, after speaking with tremendous energy 
 in the senate. " Dulce et decorum est pro patria 
 mori," said a brother peer a few nights after his 
 death, having contrived, with statesman-like 
 skill, to introduce a funeral oration on his friend 
 into a debate on Catholic emancipation. " He 
 died on the field of his glory," observed another. 
 Many shook their heads, seme sighed, more ad- 
 mired the eloquence of the orators who lamented 
 his loss, and after that my father was forgotten. 
 Though I had never seen much of him, I was 
 inconsolable at his death, till my aunt, to divert 
 my grief, and, entre nous, to amuse herself dur- 
 ing her season of seclusion, proposed a journey 
 to the Continent. I gladly gave my consent, 
 and we departed, leaving my numerous adorers 
 to fall in love with the next rich beauty that
 
 THE BRIDE. 25 
 
 might happen to make her appearance in the 
 beau monde. 
 
 Our route to Paris was excessively uninter- 
 esting. We did not meet with a single adven- 
 ture all the way. The sea was calm, the roads 
 good, and even the custom-house officers pro- 
 vokingly civil. I do not think our courier had 
 one quarrel with the postilions, and we had 
 been too long used to the streets of London to 
 grumble much at the pave. Excepting, indeed, 
 that I liked the carillions at Calais, and did not 
 like the uncarpeted floors; that I thought the 
 towns dirty and old fashioned ; and was disap- 
 pointed to find that the vines (which my ima- 
 gination had invested with the height and ele- 
 gance of the hop) looked like stunted goose- 
 berry bushes, I might just as well have staid 
 at home. The road between Calais and Paris is 
 indisputably monotonous and bare ; though, 
 indeed, as somebody says, it only wants wood, 
 water, hills, and gentlemen's houses, to make it 
 picturesque and charming ! 
 
 Paris was enchanting, it was before it had 
 been punished for the sins of its Emperor; 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 STORIES OF A BRIDE, 
 
 when the Louvre scorned the monstrous beauties 
 of Rubens, and the miracles of St. Bruno ; and 
 when the Venetian horses looked proudly down 
 upon the palace of the Tuilleries. Paris was 
 then gay; the spirits of its people were not 
 broken, and they flattered themselves that 
 though, par hazard, the allied troops had en- 
 tered Paris, France was still the mistress of the 
 world. 
 
 ** When ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise," 
 
 and I suspect that the Parisians have not im- 
 proved in happiness since they have discovered 
 their mistake. 
 
 Having kissed the gouty hands of Louis le 
 Desire, wondered^at the vastness of his legs, and 
 visited all the other lions of the metropolis, we 
 plunged into les delices of Parisian society, 
 which I found infinitely more agreeable than 
 that of London ; as in France, people meet to 
 talk, not to eat; and even a Parisian shop- 
 keeper, I believe, seldom entertains his friends 
 with any thing more substantial than iced eau 
 de groiselles, and les plasirs des dames. The 
 report of my fortune attracted lovers in abun- 
 dance : half the young nobility of the kingdom
 
 THE BRIDE. 27 
 
 threw themselves at my feet, declaring their de- 
 termination of expiring if I frowned ; though 
 many, when they found me unpersuadable, pru- 
 dently changed their minds, and transferred 
 their devoirs to my aunt, as she had a good 
 jointure, and Frenchmen are not very particular. 
 We were, however, both inexorable. The 
 Frenchmen were astonished; they were per- 
 fecdy convinced that in England we could never 
 have seen any thing equal to themselves, and 
 they could not account for our insensibility. 
 
 " Mo7i Dieu ! " said a savant, " I am now 
 not much surprised that the English ladies defy 
 the dangers of travelling ; for, as they are evi- 
 dently of the class of cold-blooded animals, they 
 may possibly be able to re-produce an arm or 
 leg at pleasure, if they should happen to be de- 
 prived of one by accident ! " 
 
 If a woman ever existed who had reached 
 maturity without displaying an inclination for 
 dress, the Rue Vivienne is certainly calcu- 
 lated to call forth the dormant passion. I had 
 always a taste for that most pleasing science, and 
 nothing could be more recherche than my cos- 
 c 2
 
 28 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 tume. My maid Smith, for I did not dare to 
 trust so important a charge as that of decorating 
 my person into common hands, had regularly 
 taken her degrees under a celebrated English 
 marchande de modes — but even she was struck 
 with admiration at the superior gusto of the 
 French. A nation, indeed, who have books 
 directing the exact method o( arranging a papil- 
 lote, and treatises on the due fall of plaits, 
 ought to excel in adorning the person. Nothing 
 can be done well without study, and dress re- 
 quires more than any thing else. The materials 
 of which clothes are composed are of little con- 
 sequence ; it is the manner in which they fit, 
 and the tournure of the wearer, that gives the air 
 distingue. I have seen a French belle look more 
 fashionable in a common coloured English muslin, 
 and a plain net mob-cap and quilling, than an 
 English woman in a white satin wrapping gown, 
 trimmed with swansdown, and a cap loaded with 
 the most costly lace. Style is every thing ; it is 
 the soul of the toilette ; and alas ! how different 
 is the toilette of a belle Francaise, animated by 
 that soul, to that of a quiet Englishwoman
 
 THE BRIDE. 29 
 
 without it? Grace lurks about the first; her 
 glass, her trinkets, her dressing-case, her parure 
 and her vide-hourse^ have all the stamp of ele- 
 gance. Some pretty little moral device appears in 
 every trifle ; sometimes an elegant gilt Cupid is 
 trampling upon a mother-of-pearl Time, to show 
 how love can \\ile away the hours ; in others, 
 Cupid is himself a prisoner, and is lying gasping 
 at the feet of Hymen ; or occasionally the little 
 urchin is flying away from the tremendous visage 
 of Minerva; who, armed with a stupendous 
 buckler and helmet (emblems, I suppose, of her 
 learning), has almost frightened the sportive 
 deity into fits. 
 
 French women certainl}' think a good deal of 
 effect. I believe if a house full of them were to 
 be on fire, they w^ould all throw themselves into 
 elegant attitudes before they called for assist- 
 ance ; and I have been told, that a disconsolate 
 widow, whose grief over the tomb of her hus- 
 band in the Pere la Chaise, used to be the ad- 
 miration of all Paris, was accustomed to prac- 
 tise daily her exclamations of despair before a 
 large looking-glass !
 
 30 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Whilst I was in Paris I took a fancy to a lap- 
 dog; for no lady was then seen in public without 
 a long piece of ribbon in her hand, the farther 
 extremity of which was attached to the collar 
 of either a French poodle, or an Italian grey- 
 hound. I could not live out of the fashion, so 
 I had a dog and a ribbon immediately. Pink 
 was the prevaiUng colour, as all bluish tints were 
 thought approximating to violet, and were ac- 
 cordingly stigmatised as disloyal. I was a 
 staunch royalist, and of course my ribbon 
 glowed with the excess of my loyalty almost to 
 a deep scarlet. I soon however grew tired of my 
 dog, who had several not winniyig ways, and I 
 sent him to finish his education en pension to the 
 Pont Neuf I then patronised a parrot, but 
 I found its noise so intolerable, that it soon fol- 
 lowed the lap-dog. My next pet was a young 
 Frenchman ; for having become accustomed to 
 have a favourite, I could not do without one, and 
 M. Gaultier supplied admirably the place of my 
 departed Souris and Coquette. 
 
 M. Gaultier was very handsome, and very 
 naive. He pretended to wish to learn English,
 
 THE BRIDE. 31 
 
 and I undertook to teach him. Since the days 
 of Abelard and Eloisa, every body knows what 
 danger lurks in such a situation. I was begin- 
 ning to find my pupil Men interessant^ to be 
 anxious for his coming, and to wonder at his 
 absence, when my aunt, whose romance did not 
 extend further than the younger sons of the 
 English nobility, and who had no idea of mar- 
 rying me to a necessitous French captain, cru- 
 elly interrupted our studies, and hurried me off 
 to Vienna. 
 
 I did not much like Vienna, when I first 
 arrived there. I think it ought to be called the 
 city of the winds ; for even tlie Lapland witches 
 could not boast of greater variety. My French 
 valet declared that they blew from all quarters 
 at once ; but this was giving too favourable a 
 description of them, as in that case the unhappy 
 pedestrians would have had some chance of 
 being kept steady by the conflicting currents, 
 instead of being hurried along like ships in full 
 sail, as I have often seen them. 
 
 " I am surprised you do not admire Vienna,
 
 3*2 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Emily ;*' said my aunt, " what can be your 
 objection to so fine a city ? " 
 
 " I do not like the wind 1 " 
 
 " Nothing can be more healthy than a fine 
 fresh breeze ! '^ 
 
 " The clouds of sand from the suburbs — " 
 
 *' Look like showers of pulverized silver ! " 
 
 " Those same suburbs in wet weather ! " 
 
 " Mud is much better and cooler for the 
 horses' feet than stones, and you know I am 
 careful of my cattle." 
 
 " I abominate the narrow streets, and the 
 lofty houses, which bend towards each other at 
 the top, as though they were going to embrace, 
 and shut out every particle of sun and air." 
 
 " They keep the streets cool, and garrets are 
 much more wholesome for the poor than cel- 
 lars." 
 
 " Then there is the vile pavement, and the 
 mass of carriages, witli all the et ceteras, which 
 make driving in Vienna quite a distinct branch 
 of the science of Jehuism." 
 
 " Excess of population ; an opportunity of 
 showing skill."
 
 THE BRIDE. 33 
 
 In short, my aunt and I were both preju- 
 diced ; she could see no faults in her favourite 
 city, and I no perfections. Perhaps I thought 
 of M. Gaultier; a circumstance verj' likely, 
 though it was full three months since I had 
 seen him, as I had as yet, found no new beau to 
 flirt with ; for all the men worth thinking of 
 were gone with the allied Sovereigns to England. 
 This made Vienna very dull. There were also 
 no morning calls, and though the houses were 
 open in an evening, for any one to go who 
 might feel inclined, after having been once pro- 
 perly introduced, which was pleasant enough, 
 the dinner parties were horrid. They ate at 
 the most gothic hours, and their cookery was 
 abominable. I am no gourmande, but it was 
 impossible to have lived in Paris without learn- 
 ing something of the science de la cuisine, and 
 without being aware that the first morsel is 
 better than the second, and that all exquisite 
 flavour is gone after the third. 
 
 The grand art of cookery is indeed the ex- 
 quisite harmony of the whole ; nothing should 
 predominate, and yet every ingredient should 
 c 5
 
 34 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 contribute to the general flavour ; whilst the 
 very instant you discover even a grain of pepper 
 too much or too little in a ragout, the cook 
 ought directly to be put on a cours de regime. 
 The Germans know nothing of this refined 
 gusto. I verily believe the wretches eat only to 
 satisfy their appetites, a feat which I may ob- 
 serve en passant is not very easy to be accom- 
 plished, and they delight chiefly in animal food, 
 of which the consumption in Vienna is greater 
 than in any other city of the same size in the 
 known world. 
 
 As in France, people meet to talk, not to eat ; 
 so in Germany they meet to eat, not to talk ; 
 and their taste in the choice of their viands 
 somewhat resembles that of the farmer, who 
 wishing to give an elegant supper, had an enor- 
 mous boiled leg of pork at the top of his table, 
 and a couple of roast geese at the bottom ! 
 
 Nobody walks at Vienna, excepting the ver- 
 riest canaille ; indeed such are the evils of pe- 
 destrianism in diose crowded, cold, dusty, windy 
 streets, that they must be mad who would walk, if 
 they could possibly afford to ride. Vienna is not
 
 THE BRIDE. 35 
 
 a cheerful looking city. Many of the magasins 
 have an odd kind of glazed pattern card stuck 
 against their walls, instead of a regular shop. 
 The mansions of the gens comme il faut, 
 have the air of prisons, and the whole city 
 at a little distance, looks like a great sugar 
 loaf, the spire of St. Stephen's cathedral form- 
 ing the top. The grand amusement of the 
 noblesse is to drive up and down the Prater; 
 whilst the good citizens sit enjoying themselves 
 amongst the trees ; and the young noblemen 
 ride along the side alleys, displaying their fine 
 horses, and their spirit, if they chance to have 
 any. Both male and female exhibitors delight 
 in fine clothes, particularly the Hungarians and 
 Bohemians ; in short the Emperor was the only 
 ill-dressed person I ever saw upon the Prater. 
 
 The suburbs are separated from the citadel 
 by a kind of park, planted with trees, whicii 
 forms a verdant belt round the t;ity. A num- 
 ber of people are generally sitting under 
 these trees, the women knitting, and the men 
 smoking; both being incessantly and indefa- 
 tigably employed in their several vocations.
 
 36 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 It is said that the women go to bed knitting ; 
 and however, be this as it may, they certainly 
 never cease whilst they are up. I have seen an 
 old print, purporting to represent woman's tat- 
 tle, which paints them talking in all possible 
 situations. Had the artist been a German, he 
 would certainly have drawn his fair ones knit- 
 ting. Not only stockings, but gloves, shawls, 
 caps, gowns, and mantles, emanate from their 
 ever-moving pins; they knit jackets for their 
 husbands ; trowsers for their sons, and petticoats 
 for themselves. " The force of knitting can no 
 farther go.'* 
 
 The men smoke as industriously as the women 
 knit ; the pipe or cigar never leaves their mouths. 
 The butcher, baker, linendraper, and apothecary, 
 all smoke ; a piece of silver, pierced with holes, 
 like part of a wine strainer, is screwed on the 
 end of the pipe, to prevent the ashes falling out, 
 and faisant Vincendie, and then the good citizens 
 resign themselves, sans scruple, to their favourite 
 amusement. In this age of wonders, indeed, I 
 should not be at all surprised to hear of a Ger- 
 man child being born with a ])ipe in its nioulli,
 
 THE BRIDE. 37 
 
 and I am sure that I have seen some which 
 actually appear to have become fixtures. 
 
 Notwithstanding this everlasting smoking, I 
 used to like to see the people in the glacis en- 
 joying themselves. As I am generally happy 
 myself, I like to see other people so ; for let 
 philosophers say what they will, I am convinced 
 nothing makes us so much disposed to view our 
 fellow creatures in a favourable light, as being 
 in perfect good humour with ourselves; whereas 
 when we are in trouble and distress we get cross 
 and ill-tempered, we are disposed to find fault 
 with every thing, and cannot bear to see other 
 people pleased, because we feel miserable. The 
 Germans have all a comfortable, contented look. 
 The women are reckoned handsome ; but they 
 are beauties on a large scale, and if a manufac- 
 tory a la Frankenstein were carried on, 1 verily 
 believe one Austrian belle would make three 
 Parisiennes. But to return to the Glacis ; it is 
 pretty to see the people there on a summer's 
 evening, whilst music floats in the air (for a 
 German is never quite happy without harmony).
 
 38 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 and lights sparkle like flying diamonds amongst 
 the trees. 
 
 Several families live under the same roof at 
 Vienna as in Paris; the houses, indeed, are so 
 immensely large as to be like little towns, and 
 one, I have been told, contains two thousand 
 persons. The outer door of these garrisons 
 is locked and barred every night, and the 
 haus-meister or porter has a fee for opening 
 the gates after eleven, at which time the streets 
 are as silent as the grave, the good citizens being 
 always accustomed to keep early hours. They 
 are indeed seldom guilty of any of those frolicks 
 which keep restless spirits from their pillows. 
 The Germans have no taste but for sensual 
 pleasures, and their only enjoyments are to eat, 
 to drink, and to sleep. 1 have read somewhere 
 of a country under the protection of a fairy, 
 which became quite depopulated by a famine. 
 The sprite was in despair to see his lands deso- 
 late, and having, luckily, a fine herd of swine, 
 he turned them into men. I think this country 
 must certainly have been Germany. 
 
 Though the houses are gloomy, the apart-
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 39 
 
 merits are splendid ; they are lofty and spacious; 
 the walls and ceilings are painted in fresco, and 
 the roofs supported by marble pillars. I believe 
 the churches and fountains are the only lions at 
 Vienna ; but as I have no particular taste for 
 seeing sights, I never can remember the length 
 and breadth of any thing ; and as I have not a 
 " Guide to Vienna" at hand, I cannot say much 
 about them. I only know that I always ad- 
 mired a monument by Canova in one of the 
 churches exceedingly, and that I have often 
 longed to get a model of one of the figures for 
 my dressing-table. 
 
 Very soon after my arrival at Vienna my 
 maid wanted to persuade me to rise at six 
 o'clock one morning, to see a procession of men, 
 women, and children, set out on a pilgrimage to 
 the Virgin at Maria Zell. She gave me a long 
 account of the broad brimmed hats and bare 
 feet of the pilgrims; their long staffs sur- 
 mounted by nosegays, their standards and cruci- 
 fixes, their bands of music, and their sublime 
 chanting. I told her, however, that though I 
 did not in the least doubt it was all very fine
 
 40 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 and very imposing (for that was Smith's word), I 
 really had not energy enough to get up in the 
 middle of the night to behold the sight. 
 
 After a month or two of stupidity, Vienna 
 suddenly became gay and animated. It was the 
 scene of the Congress of the chief European 
 sovereigns. The ball-rooms and theatres were 
 crowded with illustrious personages, and one 
 could not move without stumbling against a 
 king, or treading upon the toes of an emperor. 
 Moving gracefully, indeed, is never a very easy 
 exploit in apartments on die continent, from the 
 extreme polish of the floors, and the lamentable 
 paucity of carpets. I remember when I was 
 presented, that I was actually obliged to slide 
 into the presence, and that I was in imminent 
 danger of making a salem instead of a curtesy to 
 his Imperial Majesty. During the season of the 
 Congress balls were incessant, and there was a 
 couplet, popular at the time : 
 
 " The Congress dance. 
 But don't advance ; " 
 
 which I believe, like most other popular sayings, 
 had its foundation in truth. Nothing could
 
 THE BRIDE. 41 
 
 possibly be more brilliant than these parties, and 
 at them the ladies literally tried to outshine 
 each other, for they were all almost covered 
 with diamonds. It was at first very amusing to 
 a young girl like myself, to hear " Your Ma- 
 jesty," and " Your Highness," repeated on all 
 sides; but I soon grew weary of it, and began 
 to find out that kings and princes were alarm- 
 ingly like other men, only very often not half so 
 entertaining. 
 
 As I was by birth and education one of the 
 aristocracy, I was mortified at this discovery, for 
 till then I had always considered legitimates 
 quite a distinct genus, and had half suspected 
 that they ought to have one or two more cutting- 
 teeth in the upper jaw than the canaille. 
 
 Quite in despair, I was just beginning to 
 grow sentimental, and think of M. Gaultier, 
 when I was roused by the report of Buonaparte's 
 escape from Elba, and by the intelligence that 
 Louis le Desire had been obliged to fly as fast 
 as post-horses could carry him from his adoring 
 subjects. 
 
 Napoleon was a profound politician ; he had
 
 42 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Studied the French nation au fond, and he 
 knew perfectly well when he opened his bosom 
 to the French soldiery, and told them to strike 
 if he had injm-ed them, that there was not the 
 least danger that any one would take him at his 
 word. In fact, the French are always too 
 grateful for any thing that excites a sensation 
 not to give it full effect. There is a passage in 
 one of their plays, in which one man asks ano- 
 ther if he is brave, and the other replies, 
 slapping his breast, " Je suis Francois,'* which 
 always draws down three distinct rounds of 
 applause, besides divers other exclamations of 
 transport. The pseudo Emperor was perfectly 
 well acquainted with this; and even his ene- 
 mies must allow that he made the most of it. 
 Poor Napoleon ! The hundred days of his 
 recovered power were perhaps the most bril- 
 liant of his life; and it is possible that his 
 fate might have been different, if his adver- 
 saries had been a little more expeditious in 
 settling their arrangements against him. This 
 seems a paradox ; but the truth is, that by re- 
 maining so long in Congress at Vienna, they
 
 THE BRIDE. 48 
 
 were concentrated into one point, and were 
 ready to assail him the very moment that he 
 made his re-appearance ; whilst the time it 
 would have taken to re-assemble them if they 
 had been separated he would have found inva- 
 luable. 
 
 He might likewise have been more likely to 
 be successful, if the disposition of the diiferent 
 nations had been finally settled; for as the 
 people were sure to be dissatisfied with their 
 fate when they knew positively what it was to 
 be, they would most probably have been ready 
 to second his views in the hope of obtaining a 
 change ; whilst as long as they were in doubt, 
 being remarkably loyal and well disposed, they 
 were willing to remain obedient to their lawful 
 sovereigns, till they were quite sure that they 
 could not get as much by doing so, as they could 
 by following the usurper. 
 
 The sensation these extraordinary events oc- 
 casioned at Vienna was " prodigious ! " The 
 allied sovereigns published a furious manifesto ; 
 and, as well as I remember, a public journal of 
 the day stated, *« that the whole population of
 
 44 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Austria seized simultaneously upon the sword of 
 justice." What a long sword it must have been ! 
 I can only say, that my aunt and I were cer- 
 tainly not amongst the number; for we most 
 unheroically fled to England the first possible 
 opportunity. 
 
 My beauty being improved by the foreign 
 manners which I had acquired, and my fortune 
 certainly not diminished, I found that my former 
 adorers were not only eager to renew their 
 homage, but that their number was augmented 
 by fresh crowds, till I was positively besieged 
 like a garrison town upon an enemy's frontier. 
 Luckily my father's will had directed that I 
 should not marry till I was of age, and as I yet 
 wanted three years of that period, I enjoyed a 
 temporary respite. Indeed, as the penalty of my 
 disobedience was the loss of the greater part of 
 my fortune, not one of my admirers was so 
 selfish as to urge me to incur it. 
 
 Of course, in such a situation, I was in immi- 
 nent danger of becoming a coquette ; but I be- 
 lieve I was saved from so awful a catastrophe 
 by reading, in an account of the battle of Wa-
 
 THE BRIDE. 45 
 
 terloo, the death of M. Gaultier. I really was 
 very much affected, and searched every where 
 for a crystal bonbon box which he had given as a 
 gage (Famitie, which I meant to preserve in me- 
 mory of his fate. Unluckily I could not find it ; 
 and I am afraid I must inadvertently have given 
 it as a plaything to the little sister of my maid. 
 Quelle horreur ! After such a coiitreteins^ how 
 shall I ever dare again pretend to sentiment ? 
 
 Peace being restored to Europe, and Buona- 
 parte sent to St. Helena, the Congress at Vienna 
 resumed their deliberations ; but my aunt and I 
 had scarcely sufficiently recovered from our 
 former fright to feel inclined to rejoin them. 
 The remaining three years of my minority 
 passed without any but the most common place 
 occurrences. At length the day of my majority 
 approached ; and my aunt, who was vei*y fond of 
 observing old customs, insisted upon my cele- 
 brating the important day which announced my 
 arrival at years of discretion, in the castle of my 
 ancestors, and having a sumptuous dinner pro- 
 vided for my tenantry, that they might eat and 
 drink to the prosperity of their new mistress.
 
 46 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 All this was bad enough, but it was nothing to 
 what followed. My aunt, surprised to find that 
 having the power to marry made me still more 
 unwilling to relinquish my liberty, had the 
 cruelty to propose, that as I seemed inclined to 
 remain all my life in a state of single blessedness, 
 I should at least do my duty to my numerous 
 tenants, and if I would not give them a master, 
 that I should act as their mistress ; hear their 
 complaints, and redress their grievances, with a 
 long string of et ceteras which I really have not 
 patience to enumerate. For this purpose, she 
 proposed that I should spend the winter at the 
 castle without any other companion but herself. 
 I shuddered with horror at the bare idea. I 
 pictured to myself the delights of a long winter 
 evening in the large dark wainscoted parlour, 
 an immense fire blazing in the old fashioned 
 grate, with my aunt on one side and I on the 
 other, and an overgrown tortoise-shell tabby 
 stretching its lazy length on the rug between us ; 
 our only topics of conversation being the won- 
 derful sagacity of the aforesaid cat, or the equally 
 amusing tricks of a pet lap-dog.
 
 THE BRIDE. 4T 
 
 I could not endure the prospect, and in a fit 
 of desperation proposed to return to the conti- 
 nent. This was too tempting a proposal to be 
 resisted; my aunt made a few objections for de- 
 cency's sake, and then the matter was settled. I 
 believe her original plan was to frighten me into 
 matrimony, but as that did not succeed, the next 
 best thing that offered was to get me again 
 abroad. 
 
 Before we departed, it was necessary for me 
 to revisit the castle to sign leases, order improve- 
 ments, and make divers other arrangements, far 
 too tedious to mention ; and whilst I was there, 
 a whim suddenly struck me, that my former 
 protege, little Martha, would be an amusing 
 appendage to our continental tour. She was 
 pretty, innocent, and seventeen. Her character 
 was simplicity itself; and, what far out-balanced 
 all her other attractions, she had never been 
 more than five miles from the castle in her life. 
 I anticipated great amusement from her naivete, 
 and, wonderful to say, I was not disappointed. 
 Indeed real innocence and unsophistication must 
 be amusing to the votaries of fashion, as what is
 
 i8 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 new is always charming, and there are few things 
 that they are less accustomed to. 
 
 I had been so long hlasee with the world, that 
 little Martha was quite refreshing. I made her 
 take a seat in the carriage, and amused myself 
 with her remarks all the way to town. I forget, 
 however, what they were; indeed, though I 
 thought them very good at the time, I suspect, 
 that like many other very good things, they 
 would not bear repetition. 
 
 When we arrived in town, however, I re- 
 member that Martha was quite frightened at the 
 noise and bustle, and when urged to give an 
 opinion, tremblingly acknowledged that she had 
 never before imagined that " the whole world 
 was one half so big : " also, that when she was 
 first alarmed with the apparition of a London 
 fog, that she thought the house was on fire, and 
 her room must certainly be full of smoke. 
 
 Luckily for Martha's popularity, we left Lon- 
 don before her remarks began to grow fade, 
 and her exclamations of wonder and delight 
 when she first beheld the sea, had still the 
 charm of novelty to recommend them. Words
 
 THE BRIDE. 49 
 
 cannot describe her sensations when she found 
 herself borne upon the wide and buoyant ocean : 
 and when the moon rose in all her majesty, 
 spreading her silvery light from wave to wave, 
 and each, as it rolled along throwing its curling 
 froth high in air, like, as the Hungarian poet 
 says, 
 
 ** The sea-green coursers of old Neptune's stable. 
 Tossing aloft their proud and foaming heads," 
 
 her rapture knew no bounds. The solemn 
 silence of the night was only broken by the 
 deep, hollow murmuring of the billows, as they 
 rolled up and broke against the packet, and the 
 creaking of the ropes, as the vessel moved 
 heavily along. Little Martha was evidently 
 deeply impressed with the grandeur of the scene; 
 and as the risinoj breeze came sighing: throuffh 
 tlie sails she turned pale, and crept behind a 
 coil of ropes as near to me as she dared, till 
 chilled by the night air, and warned by some 
 drops of rain, I descended below. 
 
 I did not suffer from the maladie de mer^ and 
 the tossing of the ship soon lulled me into a 
 gentle dose, from which I was roused by a tre- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 5fr STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 / mendous noise and clamour of human voices, 
 which for variety of languages could only be 
 equalled by the Tower of Babel; Paris when 
 occupied by the allies ; or a seaport on the Me- 
 diterranean. Presently the sanctity of the state- 
 Cabin, which my aunt and I had secured for our- 
 selves and our maids, was disturbed by an irrup- 
 tion of terrified females of all sizes and ages. I 
 was some time before I could distinguish any 
 articulate sounds amidst the general tumult, till 
 at length my ear was struck by the somewhat 
 precise tones of little Martha, repeating as audi- 
 bly as terror would permit, the Lord's prayer, 
 whilst she knelt as closely as possible to my birth. 
 After this, I was quite provoked to find that 
 the general consternation had been only ex- 
 cited by the steward, who being somewhat of a 
 humourist as well as wonder dealer, had con- 
 trived to work their feelings up to agony by the 
 story of a shipwreck. 
 
 Strange to say, after this little incident, I be- 
 came tired of Martha's naivete, and when, pre- 
 suming on my previous encouragement, she ven- 
 tured to make some remark on the unbonneted
 
 THE BRIDE. 51 
 
 long ear-ringeil women, and pig-tailed woollen 
 night-capped men of Ostend, I stopped her 
 abruptly, and she was admitted no more into my 
 presence. I supposed Smith would take care of 
 her, but I did not trouble myself any more upon 
 the subject ; and in a week, as I no longer saw 
 her, 1 had actually almost forgotten that she 
 formed part of our suite. 
 
 When we arrived at Brussels, my aunt and I 
 weresuddenly seized with a fit of patriotism, which 
 prompted us to visit the field of battle at Water- 
 loo. The morning was dark and louring, and 
 the black, heavy clouds, which hung like a 
 gloomy curtain over our heads, seemed ready to 
 fall upon us, and crush us with their weight. 
 The dreary forest of Soignt s, with its perforated 
 and withered trees — the shattered condition of 
 the houses, "riddled with bullets," — and the in- 
 numerable tumuli which covered the plain, with 
 here and there a horse's hoof, a cuirass, or bit of 
 faded cloth projecting from the mound, had 
 a powerful effect on my imagination. It is asto- 
 nishing what an effect a trifling circumstance 
 sometimes produces on the mind : from one of 
 d2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSin OF !UU^O.j
 
 52 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 these tumuli hung, nearly buried in earth, the 
 half-decayed flap of a coat, even yet, embroidered 
 with its tarnished gold lace; and this simple 
 relic brought so vividly before my eyes the pic- 
 ture of the hasty heaping together of the un- 
 timely slain, that I could not forbear shedding 
 tears. My aunt was surprised at my unwonted 
 sensibiHty, but the cause seemed explained when 
 we entered the neat little church, and saw on a 
 monumental slab the following inscription : 
 " a git Henri Gaultie?', 
 Capitaine de la Garde Imperiale. 
 It etaitjeune^ hrave, et beau — mais il est mort! '' 
 My aunt was not inclined to be sentimental, 
 and instead of admiring what a Frenchman 
 would have called the touching simplicity of the 
 epitaph, she went into a rage about French 
 affectation, &c. &c. to the total destruction of 
 my feelings. This ruined the scene, which 
 would otherwise have been fine; for, whilst we 
 were looking at the monument, a withered 
 crone approached, mumbling in Flemish French 
 (which every body knows was the original lan- 
 guage of Satan, only he was obliged to desist
 
 THE BRIDE, 53 
 
 from using it lest its horrid cacophony should 
 frighten away all his attendant demons) an in- 
 quiry, if we had known the gentleman whose 
 body lay below? and then, without waiting a 
 reply, she led the way to her wretched hut, 
 where (contrary to the usual habits of the Fle- 
 mings, whose houses are generally cleaner than 
 themselves) we were greeted by a heterogeneous 
 assemblage of pigs, poultry, and children, who 
 received us with every "possible kind of outcry 
 and lamentation. My aunt followed instinc- 
 tively; but when she saw the miserable aspect 
 of the dwelling, she shrunk back in disgust, and 
 left Madame to expatiate on " ks heaux yeux 
 noirs de Monsieur" and his pathetic death, at 
 her leisure. 
 
 We afterwards learned that this woman told 
 the same tale of every officer, whose tomb she 
 saw people looking at intently, and that she 
 found her trade very profitable. 
 
 We had no other adventure that I retain any 
 remembrance of before we reached Vienna. All 
 that I recollect of the journey is, that the coun- 
 try was very flat, and that my aunt's conversa-
 
 54< STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 tion en route was only a lengthened dissertation 
 on the crimes, follies, and other disagremens of 
 the French. She proved to demonstration that 
 they were the wickedest race of beings upon 
 earth ; that their gaiety was levity, their wit im- 
 piety, and their talents for conversation a mere 
 love of tattling. In short, I never heard her 
 before either so eloquent or so patriotic. 
 
 " Sooner than a relation of mine should wed 
 a Frenchman,'' said she, " I would follow her 
 to her grave ! " The sentiment was not new, 
 but it was energetically expressed; and it im- 
 mediately produced its full effect upon me, for 
 I devoutly wished that M. Gaultier was alive, 
 that I might marry him instanter ; and since 
 that could not be the case, I dutifully resolved 
 to . fall in love with the first hon Iran^ais I 
 should meet with. 
 
 I; found Vienna Men triste : the bustle of 
 Congress had passed away ; the soul was 
 gone, and all that remained was but the inani- 
 mate clay. Even the amusements were become 
 fade ; for the Germans, when left to themselves, 
 are the most melancholy people of pleasure in
 
 THE BRIDE. 55 
 
 the world : they move at a ball as at a funeral, 
 and they enjoy themselves with the air of per- 
 forming a solemn duty. The great influx of 
 French had made matters still worse ; for, as is 
 usual in such cases, though they had at first 
 viewed the strangers with disgust, this feeling 
 soon changed to astonishment, which in time 
 softened down to admiration, and imitation fol- 
 lowed of course. It must be allowed, however, 
 that they were not eminently happy in the at- 
 tempt. The Germans are, indeed, the most 
 unwieldy animals in nature, and when they try 
 to be gay, they remind one of the gambols of a 
 frolicksome elephant, or those of a playful whale ; 
 whilst their endeavours to copy the French re- 
 semble the capers of the ambitious ass, who 
 wished to rival the sportiveness of the little lap- 
 dog. In short, to a German citizen, life is an 
 affair of pounds, shillings, and pence — so much 
 labour, so much enjoyment ; and he takes care 
 to balance the accounts regularly. Thus, the 
 moment he finds the diversion side creditor, 
 he flies to some place of amusement, where he 
 enjoys himself with all his might till he has con-
 
 56 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 scientiously acquitted the debt; he then returns 
 home, and goes again to labour in liis vocation. 
 The higher classes are not much better, and 
 the admixture of French manners, which they 
 have tried to introduce, shows like silk patches 
 on a cloth coat. No people travel so little in 
 other countries as the Germans. The fact is, 
 there is a heavy tax on absenteeism, and many 
 parts of the Austrian dominions cannot be quitr 
 ted without the express permission of the Em- 
 peror. This sovereign is exceedingly beloved 
 by the populace, perhaps on account of his 
 amiability and extreme condescension; or perr 
 haps, because he protects them from the over- 
 whelming oppression of the aristocracy, whose 
 power it is his interest to abate. The only crime 
 which is regarded as the unpardonable sin 
 amongst the Germans of all classes is want of 
 punctuality. No one there thinks it fashionable 
 to be too late for dinner ; and even the Empe- 
 ror at Vienna takes that meal about the hour 
 when London belles are thinking of leaving 
 their beds. 
 
 Nothing could be more horrible than living iu
 
 THE BRIDE. 5*f 
 
 such a place; days seemed years; and I felt 
 half inclined to end my career by leaping from 
 the ramparts, or throwing myself into the Da- 
 nube. However, just as I was about to despair, 
 a circumstance happened which quite enlivenecj 
 me. I fell in love. I am sure I do not know 
 how it was, but I suppose that Fate aimed the 
 dart, whilst Cupid bent the bow — one must sport 
 a metaphor upon such an occasion — and so I 
 fell in love yawning. How! yawning? me- 
 thinks I hear my reader exclaim. Yes ; sad to 
 say, my inamorato and I were both in that in- 
 teresting situation when we first met — mais 
 econtez, mon cher lecteur, je m'en vais voiis dire 
 toute Vhistoire, 
 
 It was at a pic-nic party in the little room at 
 the redoute. These pic-nic parties were generally 
 called delicious, as they were considered some- 
 thing like the petits soupers in Paris before the 
 Revolution. The fact was, they were very se- 
 lect, and of course every one was anxious to go 
 to them ; and every one who had shown great 
 anxiety to gain admittance, was also of course 
 bound to praise; for if they had found fault, it 
 d5
 
 58 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 would have been virtually acknowledging that 
 they had taken pains to contend for a prize 
 which was not worth having when attained ; a 
 fact to which very few people would like to 
 plead guilty. Notwithstanding this indemnity 
 from censure, however, these select parties were, 
 like many other select things, very stupid, and I 
 was soon tired of them. One evening, in par- 
 ticular, I felt much depressed. I declined 
 dancing; and leaning against a pillar, thought of 
 Waterloo and M. Gaultier till I became quite 
 sentimental, and, in an extempore fit of con- 
 stancy to his memory, I refused to take any no- 
 tice of the beaux who crowded round me. One 
 by one they dropped off, and I soon stood alone. 
 I own I did not perfectly enjoy this. It is very 
 well to despise society, and sigh for solitude in 
 a crowd; but, like the old woman who called on 
 death, one is not always well pleased to be 
 jtaken at one's word. The Gods unfortunately 
 did not make me romantic ; and, whatever de- 
 light other people may find in my society, I can- 
 not say that I am very fond of it myself; besides 
 which, I never could find the least amusement in 
 a reverie. I therefore most cordially wished my
 
 THE BRIDE. 5$ 
 
 beaux back as soon as they had departed ; but, 
 alas! " they did not come, though I did wish 
 for them,'' and as I could not possibly go to seek 
 them, I was seized with a tremendous fit of en- 
 nui, which made me yawn hideously. 
 
 Just at die moment when I was prepetrating 
 this atrocity against good breeding, my eye 
 chanced to fall upon a gentleman leaning against 
 an opposite pillar, who was quietly indulging in 
 the same elegant amusement : our glances met, 
 and we both smiled involuntarily. The next 
 moment my aunt came up, and led me away. 
 In obedience to her commands, I talked and 
 listened to an abundance of nonsense during the 
 remainder of the evening, but, malgre tout, I 
 could not get the yawning hero out of my head, 
 and the first opportunity that occurred I in- 
 quired his name. 
 
 << It is the English Lord Seaford," replied a 
 young German. " He is so rich that he does 
 not know what to do with himself, and so he 
 does nothing.'* 
 
 " He is very eccentric, and fancies hunself cle- 
 ver!" said a Count of sixteen hundred quarter-
 
 60 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 ings ; who never, by any flight of fancy, could 
 possibly indulge in such a supposition. 
 
 <' He despises dress," exclaimed a French 
 
 Marquis, displaying a diamond ring, as he waved 
 
 his hand to give more energy to his exclamation. 
 
 . '^ He is insensible to love!" sighed out an 
 
 Itfilian Count, with a tender look to me. 
 
 ^* He is, like most of his countrymen," said a 
 sensible Russian, "good, but singular. He is 
 rich, and highly intelhgent; but having every 
 thing he can desire, he has nothing left to hope 
 for, and thus life has lost its zest. Aware of 
 this, he places his summimi honum in imperturb- 
 able tranquillity. He declares that there is no- 
 thing in the world worth vexing about, and 
 laughs at all mental afflictions. He says, that 
 when the wants of the body are provided for, a 
 man's happiness depends upon himself. He de- 
 fies love, and boasts that no human being has 
 the power to cause him a single moment of 
 anxiety." 
 
 What a tempting picture ! what a character 
 for- a conquest ! I was tempted to try to disturb 
 -his quiet; and from that moment I thought no 
 more of M. Gaul tier.
 
 THE BRIDE. 61 
 
 The next time I saw Lord Seaford was at a 
 fancy ball. He was in a domino, and unmasked. 
 Whilst we were waiting for our carriage, we 
 stood close to him, and I had an opportunity of 
 examining his features, which I found were 
 really very handsome. He did not, however, 
 take the least notice of me, but leant in his usual 
 careless manner against a pillar. A gentleman 
 hurried up to him. I looked at him, and 
 found to my infinite delight that it was my 
 cousin Danvers, who had been my sole con*- 
 fidant and auxiliary during the purgatorial dr.ys 
 of my London education. He was several 
 years older than myself, but was one of that 
 happy class of persons who remain boys all their 
 lives. I was delighted to see him at Vienna, as 
 I had supposed him travelling in Greece, and I 
 was still more enchanted to find he knew Lord 
 Seaford. He did not recognize either my aunt 
 or myself, as we had masks, and were besides 
 shrouded from his observation by immense opera 
 cloaks. My aunt was going to speak when she 
 saw him, but I pressed her arm to implore 
 silence.
 
 62 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " My dear Seaford ! '' said he, " the Princess 
 of has just asked for you." 
 
 " Has she ? " returned Seaford, with an air of 
 the most perfect composure. 
 
 " Won't you fly to her feet?" exclaimed Dan- 
 vers. " She is the most beautiful woman in 
 Vienna, and the most difficult of access." 
 
 " Y-e-s; so I have heard," yawned Seaford. 
 
 One of the most finished diplomatists of the 
 age now approached. " Lord Seaford," said he, 
 " the Empress has been graciously pleased to 
 command you to hand her to her carriage." 
 
 " Impossible, my dear fellow,*' replied Sea- 
 ford; " the Empress never could be so unrea- 
 sonable as to demand such a Curtius-like sacri- 
 fice. Do you not see that, after trying several 
 positions, I am at last quite comfortable. Give 
 my compliments to the Empress, and tell her I 
 can't come." 
 
 " Your compliments ! " cried the diplomatist, 
 quite aghast. 
 
 " Yes," said Lord Seaford ; " you know one 
 would wish to refuse with civility." 
 
 ** Refuse with civility ! " muttered the discom-
 
 THE BRIDE. 63 
 
 fited negociator, as he walked off, meditating in 
 what manner it would be possible to convey so 
 unceremonious a message to " ears polite." 
 
 " Thou art a most insufferable coxcomb, Sea- 
 ford," said Danvers, laughing ; " insensible to 
 rank or beauty. By the way, did you notice an 
 Italian contadina among the masks. I think I 
 never saw a more lovely figure." 
 
 This had been my dress ; and 1 listened with 
 breathless anxiety for Lord Seaford's answer. 
 " Showy ! " said he, with a shrug. 
 I never was so disappointed in my life. What ! 
 was my beautiful figure, which had been vowed 
 symmetry itself, to be degraded by being called 
 only " showy." I vowed vengeance. 
 
 Danvers called upon us the morning after the 
 ball, and laughed heartily when 1 told him how 
 dreadfully I had been annoyed the night before. 
 " I wish to Heaven," said he, " that you 
 could make an impression upon Seaford, and 
 that you would cure him of his coxcombical airs. 
 He has a thousand good qualities. He is brave, 
 sensible, and generous ; but he requires a strong 
 excitement to draw him forth.'*
 
 64 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Will you assist me ? " asked I. 
 
 " With all my heart, soul, spirit, and energy." 
 
 " A most energetic declaration, upon my 
 word ! " said my aunt, laughing. " But seri- 
 ously, Emily," continued she, " I cannot ima- 
 gine what has made you take this ridiculous 
 folly into your head. Your title and estates en- 
 title you to look much higher than Lord Sea^ 
 
 ford. There was the Duke of A , and the 
 
 Marquis of B , in England ; and there is 
 
 the Prince C , and even the Grand Duke 
 
 D here; besides innumerable French counts, 
 
 earls, and marquises, who are all very far supe- 
 rior to him." 
 
 " Celid-ciestmafantasie," replied I, humming 
 the refrain of an old provincial ballad. 
 
 " You are very provoking, Emily," exclaimed 
 my aunt. " You are as capricious as a spoiled 
 child." 
 
 "And is she not the spoiled child of fortune? " 
 iisked Danvers ; " and has she not in her three 
 several characters of heiress, wit, and beauty, an 
 undeniable right to be perverse, established by 
 courtesy, and warranted by custom ? " i
 
 THE BKIDE. €9 
 
 " There is no denying it," said I, " and so I 
 tvill do as I please." 
 
 " With all my heart, my dear," returned my 
 aunt, awed by my emphatic " will." " You 
 know, I only advise." 
 
 She was wise to give up the point, for I 
 was obstinate and independent. How then could 
 I be possibly expected to listen to reason ? If, 
 as some one says, happiness is only found in con- 
 quering difficulties, I was in a fair way to be- 
 come supremely blest, for nothing appeared 
 more difficult than to attract Lord Seaford's 
 attention. Danvers introduced me to him, but 
 he regarded me with the most profound indif- 
 ference, and scarcely vouchsafed to speak. Hi- 
 therto, my life had been like a smooth, unvarying 
 turnpike-road, very safe, no doubt, but ama- 
 zingly insipid, along which I had rolled, scarcely 
 sensible of my progress. Now, obstacles presented 
 themselves, and I was in a perfect fever till 1 
 could sweep them away. How to begin I knew 
 not. I was handsome; but Lord Seaford did 
 not care for beauty. I had wit; but it was use- 
 less to attempt to amuse him with it, as he had
 
 6fi, STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 often declared that he believed the remission of 
 his most deadly sins would hardly compensate 
 him for enduring the purgatory of a laugh, and 
 that he found even a smile a tremendous exer- 
 tion. 1 had often been told that my singing 
 vy^as delightful ; but of what avail was this with 
 a man who would not hear Sontag (the reigning 
 lion of the day), lest he should be tempted to in- 
 cur the fatigue of applauding. 
 
 " I really think you hate music," said Dan- 
 vers to him one evening in my presence. 
 
 « Indeed I do not," replied Seaford. « Ha- 
 tred is a passion, and all passions destroy tran- 
 quillity. I should be very sorry to hate any 
 thing." 
 
 " Then you ought to wish yourself a statue." 
 
 " Perhaps I should be wise if I did, for a fine 
 statue is really a most enviable creature. It has 
 no feeling, and yet it is universally the object of 
 admiration." 
 
 " At last, then, I have detected some sensa- 
 tions in you. You think it agreeable to be 
 admired." 
 
 " Not if the admiration excite either pleasure 
 or pain. I don't like emotion."
 
 THE BRIDE. 67 
 
 What was to be done with such a man ? I 
 once thought of imitating his own langour and 
 indifference, till I recollected that it might have 
 tlie effect of Tilburina's confidant in the Critic. 
 In short I was in despair, when a lucky incident 
 revived my hopes. 
 
 A stiff German Countess, of the old school, 
 invited me to vegetate a few days with her in 
 the country. My aunt was a violent aristocrate, 
 and very fond of " extending her connections;" 
 consequendy she made it a point never to refuse 
 a domestic visit to a family of distinction. 
 
 '* People get so intimate in the same house," 
 said she ; " besides if you pay the Countess a 
 visit alone she will fancy you a kind o^ protegee, 
 and is quite sure to praise you wherever she 
 goes for the remainder of her life ; as people 
 who have no other chance of shining, are very 
 fond of patronizing, in hopes that the lustre of 
 their eleves may be reflected back upon them- 
 selves. You will probably marry a German 
 nobleman ; at least I wish you to do so ; and, as 
 in this Court great jealousy exists against fo- 
 reigners, it may hereafter be whispered that you
 
 l&B STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 are not of high descent. If that should be the 
 case, only fancy what an advantage it will be 
 to have it remembered, that the Countess Von 
 PufFendorf used to talk of the visit you paid to 
 her in your single state. It will silence all 
 slander in an instant, as every one who knows 
 the Countess, must also know that it was quite 
 impossible she could notice any one whose fa- 
 mily was not without a blot." 
 
 Do you not think that my genealogy might 
 be as well established by the British Peerage 
 as by the ipse dixit of the Countess Von PufFenr 
 dorf?*' asked I, all the pride of my illustrious 
 ancestry glowing in my face as I spoke. 
 
 " By no means," returned my aunt, coolly. 
 " What German ever studies the British peer- 
 age? And who is there that does not know 
 the Countess Von PufFendorf? " 
 
 These questions were unanswerable, and I 
 departed forthwith for the chateau ^"on PufFen- 
 dorf. Nothing could be more lugubrious than 
 the aspect of this mansion. The very rooks 
 seemed to have fled from it in dismay; the 
 trees, clipped into formal shapes, did not dare
 
 THE BRIDE. 69^ 
 
 shoot forth a vagrant branch, lest they should 
 derange the decorum of the scene, and stood 
 like tall misses in a village dancing school, 
 i-anged en colonne^ ready to flounder through 
 the mysteries of an English country dance; no 
 sucli happy confusion, however, awaited the 
 woods of Puffendorf. There they stood in 
 stiff and awful majesty, till my eyes grew weary 
 of beholding them ; and I felt that an earth- 
 quake or a hurricane would have been quite a 
 relief. The canals looked dull and dank, a 
 thick green scum, like a shell, hid even the 
 sparkling of the waters ; the flowers in the par- 
 terre were all of the same height and neatness; 
 the grass seemed never to grow, and the walks 
 never to be trodden ; whilst every thing that 
 did move, appeared put in motion by clock- 
 work ; the meals were served with so many ce- 
 remonies that they were cold before we were 
 permitted to taste them, and the servants glided 
 about, like full dressed automata, performing 
 the same duties always at exactly the same 
 hours. 
 
 Precisely at ten o'clock in the morning, my
 
 70 STORIES OF A BTIIDE. 
 
 Stately hostess issued from her chamber, every 
 fold in her stiff brocaded gown falling exactly 
 into its proper place, and the very wind seem- 
 ing to respect her punctilio, and to forbear to 
 discompose even a hair of her high toupee. 
 She then proceeded with solemn gravity to a 
 fine terrace, warmed by the morning sun, and 
 ten times did she walk up the broad gravel 
 Walk which adorned it, and ten times down the 
 same ; whilst, I believe, if the preservation of 
 the empire had depended upon her exertions, no 
 considerations would have induced her to make 
 a single turn more or less. Mon Dieu ! I feel 
 faint at the bare recollection. I have often 
 watched her till I have almost fancied one of 
 her own family pictures had stept out of its 
 frame, and was indulging itself in the unwonted 
 luxuries of air and exercise. 
 
 I was ready to expire with ennui, and the 
 third day of my visit (I was to stay a month) I 
 could find no resource but in the castle library. 
 The extremity of my despair may be guessed 
 from this circumstance, as till then, I had
 
 THE BRIDE. Tl 
 
 always preferred my own thoughts to those of 
 any one else. 
 
 The Countess piqued herself upon her li- 
 brary, and, though she never read herself, she 
 always ordered a bookseller at Leipzig to sup- 
 ply her, every fair, with the standard works of 
 the day. The man was tolerably honest, and 
 though he might perchance now and then sell 
 her an old book at a new price, or transfer a 
 little unmarketable lumber to her shelves from 
 his own, he had sold her a xery fair collection 
 (I do not mean a pun) of modern authors; a 
 circumstance certainly liighly to his credit, as 
 he was well aware not one of his commodities 
 was in the least possible danger of being looked 
 into. 
 
 After turning over innumerable pages, French, 
 English, Italian, and German, I happened to 
 take up a volume of St. Pierre, and to open it 
 at the part where he says there must be con- 
 trasts in love. The idea charmed me, and I 
 did what, it must be confessed, readers do not 
 always do, I profited by my studies. I resolved
 
 72 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 to try the effect of the maxim upon Lord Sea- 
 ford; and, as soon as I returned to town, to 
 oppose him in every respect, to dissent from all 
 his opinions, and to do every thing that he said 
 he disliked. I was now in despair at the length 
 of time which must elapse before I could return 
 to Vienna, to try the success of my plan, as I 
 had no doubt, if I could contrive to make my- 
 self thoroughly disagreeable, that he must in- 
 evitably be in love with me in a month. 
 
 Fate was for once propitious to my wishes, 
 and, to my infinite astonishment I found, on 
 my return to the saloon, that Lord Seaford was 
 actually arrived at the chateau. I was thunder- 
 struck, and actually flattered myself, for the mo- 
 ment, that some kind fairy had wafted him 
 there by magic. The mystery, however, was 
 soon explained, and I was half disappointed to 
 find his arrival perfectly natural, and, in fact, ef- 
 fected by the most common place means that 
 could well be imagined. 
 
 The Countess' only nephew, the Baron Stein- 
 holm, whose arrival had been long anxiously 
 expected at the castle, was one of those incon-
 
 THE BRIDE. 73 
 
 gruous animals which may be called anglicised 
 Germans ; and which are even a worse variety of 
 the species than the Frenchified ones. This inte- 
 resting youth, not being able to endure the 
 thought of rusticating without society at his 
 aunt's country seat, had invited Lord Seaford 
 and Danvers to accompany him down ; and they 
 (the former, mortifying to relate, not knowing 
 that I was there) had accepted the invitation. 
 My unexpected presence, however, did not seem 
 to cause Lord Seaford the slightest emotion, 
 and he absolutely took no more notice of me 
 than of my lap-dog ; nor indeed so much, for he 
 scolded Bijou, and told him to get out of his 
 way. 
 
 This was excessively provoking ; however, I 
 felt en forces and, resolving to be entertaining, 
 I gave Danvers a detailed account of my coun- 
 try miseries. He was much amused ; the Baron 
 laughed, and I flattered myself that even Lord 
 Seaford was listening with attention, when he 
 suddenly arose, and saying that he had just 
 thought of some orders which he wished to give 
 to his groom, he left the room. I could really 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 14 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 have wept with vexation ; luckily the Countess 
 happened at the very moment to make her ap- 
 pearance in full majesty, and the sudden inter- 
 ruption of my remarks was attributed to awe at 
 her august presence. 
 
 The Countess was visibly disconcerted. Brought 
 up in all the rigid strictness of German etiquette, 
 form, with her, had become second nature ; and 
 the sudden and unexpected arrival of her ne- 
 phew and his guests had grievously disarranged 
 the usual regular routine of her mansion. The 
 domestic economy was utterly ruined; every 
 thing was thrown into confusion, and the staid, 
 solemn servants, were actually seen flying about 
 the house in all directions, like animated sta- 
 tues. 
 
 The unlucky cause of this disturbance took 
 little notice of his aunt's entrance, but sat with 
 his legs stretched out, negligently picking his 
 teeth ; for, as is usual in similar circumstances, 
 lie caricatured the manners which he meant to 
 copy. 
 
 " How do, aunt ? " said he, carelessly, with- 
 out offering to rise.
 
 THE BRIDE. 75 
 
 The Countess was horrorized at such a re- 
 ception; she immediately drew herself up to 
 her full height, and curtesying with appalling 
 dignity, she replied : " M. le Baron Steinhohn, 
 as the son of my sister, you are welcome to my 
 castle." 
 
 " I knew that, so I have not only come my- 
 self, but 1 have brought two friends with me. 
 I believe you are the nearest relation I have, 
 and the devil's in it, if a man can't make free 
 with his own relations, as the English play says." 
 
 The Countess looked at him with an air ex- 
 pressive of as much detestation and disgust as 
 could well beam from a human face, and then, 
 disdaining reply, she majestically sailed out of 
 the room. 
 
 We all met at dinner. It was served pre- 
 cisely in the old German fashion, for the Count- 
 ess would have deemed it a crime little short of 
 Jiigh treason, to have suffered the slightest inno- 
 vation. A magnificent plateau, surrounded by 
 various articles of ornament or confectionery 
 filled the centre of the table, and a few entremets 
 were placed on the sides, but the meat was 
 E 2
 
 76 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 carved at a side table, and handed round that 
 every one might take a slice. The Baron raved 
 at this, and expatiated upon the superior ele- 
 gance of the English custom. 
 
 " You will see nothing like this now at 
 Vienna ! " said he. 
 
 " Then I shall have still more occasion than 
 before, to lament the degeneracy of modern 
 manners," returned the stately Countess. 
 
 " I am afraid my Lord," said the Baron, ad- 
 dressing Seaford, " that you find nothing you 
 can eat." 
 
 " On the contrary," replied his lordship, " I 
 think this the only manner in which the half 
 brutalized operation of devouring food can be 
 conducted with any degree of delicacy. The 
 ■present Viennese fashion of serving dinners a 
 VAnglaise is horrible. Joints of under-roasted 
 mangled meat give the idea of a dog kennel, 
 rather than a repast of civilized beings ; and a 
 dish should never be suffered to pall the senses 
 a single instant after it has been tasted." 
 
 ^^ They manage these things much better in 
 France,'' said Danvers; "a German dinner
 
 THE BRIDE. 7T 
 
 reminds me of a piece of Egyptian architecture, 
 ever}^ thing is on a large scale, simple yet solid ; 
 whilst a French dinner, like a Grecian temple, 
 is as light as elegance itself." 
 
 " Yet even in France, I have been often ex- 
 cessively disgusted at table, for the French wo- 
 men eat like men, and discuss the quality of the 
 viands, like professed gourmands." 
 
 " And why should they not ? Is not cookery 
 confessedly a female science?" 
 
 " It may have been so in the days of the an- 
 tediluvians, when women of quality wore a 
 bunch of keys at their girdles, and young 
 ladies understood the mysteries of pickling and 
 preserving ; but now — I declare I would almost 
 as soon hear a wife of mine descant learnedly on 
 the breeding of cattle, as to find her an fait in 
 the economy of the kitchen." 
 
 " I quite disagree with your lordship," said I. 
 " I think it absolutely necessary to know the 
 component parts of every dish that comes to 
 table, and I give my cook ten louis a year extra, 
 because he is the only person who ever made an 
 omelette sonfflee exactly to my taste. Pauvre
 
 tS STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Jean ! I was inconsolable when he was ill last 
 winter. Had he died, I must actually have pe- 
 rished for want of food, as I never could have 
 endured a soitfflee from any hand but his. Then 
 his dindons aux trvffes ; his perdrix aux choux ; 
 his poulets a la braize ; his fricandeaux, ragouts, 
 and risolles ! Oh ! should fate wrest him from 
 me, I should be the most miserable of human 
 beings ! " 
 
 " Your ladyship is then a professed gour- 
 mande,'' said Lord Seaford, addressing me, I 
 verily believe, for the first time, and fixing his 
 eyes upon me, with almost as much horror as 
 the Countess had a short time before surveyed 
 her nephew. 
 
 " By no means. I am not in the least re- 
 cherche in my dishes, and the commonest food 
 pleases me, so that it be well arranged. But 
 it is the exquisite flavour which Jean imparts to 
 his plats that I admire. It is that last finish of 
 the master-hand, which, like the pencil of a su- 
 perior artist, gives animation to the whole ; that 
 Promethean touch — that spark of superior ge- 
 nius — that — "
 
 THE BRIDE. 7^ 
 
 "And all this enthusiasm," said Lord Sea- 
 ford, " is inspired by the merits of a cook ? " 
 
 " And what nobler theme can we find? " re- 
 joined Danvers. " Is it not the only distinctive 
 mark that has yet been discovered of the genus 
 of man, that he is a cooking animal ? Hyaenas 
 laugh, parrots talk, monkeys dress, and dogs, 
 elephants, pigs, nay even cats, reason. These 
 qualities we share in common with die brutes ; 
 and cookery is the only point in which we de- 
 cidedly excell them. The gastronomic art is 
 also of much more importance to society in ge- 
 neral than may be readily conceived. How 
 many tyrants have been made such solely by a 
 bad digestion ? Even Nero and Caligula were 
 never so cruel as when they had eaten ill-dressed 
 dinners; and the woman who appealed to Philip 
 fasting, showed herself a profound casuist as to 
 the real nature of things. The Great Unpaid 
 would not be half so severe in their judgments 
 against poachers and other dehnquents, if 
 French cooks formed part of their establish- 
 ments ; and the frame-breaking, cinder-pelting, 
 riotous populace of England, would soon be re-
 
 80 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 duced to submission, if deprived of such indi- 
 gestible viands as roast beef, Cheshire cheese, 
 and boiled potatoes, moistened by brown stout." 
 
 " Bravo ! " exclaimed I, " my dear cousin, 
 how grateful I ought to feel for the admirable 
 manner in which you have expressed my senti- 
 ments. I assure your lordship," continued I, 
 addressing Seaford, "that I think the luxury 
 of a good table one of the few things which can 
 reconcile one to endure the tedium of life." 
 
 Lord Seaford did not utter a single syllable, 
 but his eyes were eloquent, and they said as 
 plainly as eyes could speak, " Is it possible that 
 so young a creature can have a taste so entirely 
 depraved ! " 
 
 Madame Von Puffendorf, who took all I said 
 quite au pied de la lettre, was also very much 
 shocked. " I must confess," said she, drawing 
 herself up, " that I am not acquainted with the 
 modern habits of the world ; for I own candidly 
 I never did expect to hear such sentiments fall 
 from the mouth of any young lady of rank, even 
 of — " she paused an instant, and then con- 
 cluded, " of any nation in the known world,"
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 di 
 
 " Well saved, my good aunt," cried the 
 Baron. " I declare I thought you were going to 
 say England." 
 
 The Countess darted at him a look of ineffable 
 contempt, but did not condescend to reply. 
 During the remainder of the repast, I observed, 
 that though Lord Seaford did not again address 
 me, he covertly watched all I said and did. I 
 was enchanted. " lo Pcean ! " thought I, " I 
 have attracted his attention, and now the day is 
 my own ! " 
 
 Notwithstanding my rapture, however, I 
 listened to every word that was spoken, in order 
 that I might discover all the tastes and feelings 
 of my intended lover, and shape myself accord- 
 ingly. Danvers assisted me in this, and turned 
 the conversation upon such points as he thought 
 would draw Lord Seaford out. Principally he 
 spoke of love and marriage, and en passant gave 
 a description of the woman he w^ould chuse 
 were he to take a wife. The Baron followed 
 his example. I forget what they said, of course 
 they both pictured paragons, but when it came 
 e5
 
 82 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 to Lord Seaford's turn to speak, I did not lose 
 a syllable. 
 
 " The woman I could love," said he, " must 
 be soft, pensive, and confiding. Grace must 
 govern her every movement, and a sweet femi- 
 nine indecision appear in all she says and does ; 
 she must be timid even to a fault, and ignorant 
 of every thing save the mild duties of affection. 
 Gentleness must be her most striking character- 
 istic, and she must turn from every occasion of 
 display, as the tender mimosa shrinks from the 
 pollution of the slightest touch. Her sylph-like 
 form must only seem to glide, and her harmoni- 
 ous voice must never breathe above a whisper. 
 In short she should be quiet and immoveable, 
 as a holy image in a splendid shrine, seen only 
 to be worshipped." 
 
 I was delighted to hear so full an exposition 
 of my intended lover's thoughts; and I immedi- 
 ately determined to dance, ride horses, talk in- 
 cessantly, and affect to be a blue-stocking. 
 
 Accordingly, as soon as we quitted the dinner 
 table, I invited the Baron to waltz, he hesitated. 
 Englishmen never try to make themselves agree-
 
 THE BRIDE. 83 
 
 able, or do what they are asked to do, and yet, 
 what German could refuse to waltz ? Poor fel- 
 low ! he was like a duckling brought up under 
 the superintendance of a hen, his natural and 
 acquired tastes were most lamentably at vari- 
 ance y at last nature prevailed, and he gave me 
 his hand. The Countess resigned hers to Dan- 
 vers, and Lord Seaford was left to meditate so- 
 lus on the inconsistency of the sex. I saw that 
 he was shocked, but as he did not retire, I was 
 satisfied ; I knew that I danced well, and excited 
 by the idea that Seaford was observing me, I 
 surpassed myself. 
 
 The moment the dance was ended, the Baron, 
 the Countess, and Danvers, absolutely over- 
 whelmed me with compliments, but Seaford did 
 not join in them. He left the room abruptly, 
 and did not appear again during the remainder 
 of the evening. I confess I was chagrined, and 
 an excessive depression followed the high spirits 
 I had indulged in ; I could not recover myself, 
 and complaining of fatigue, I retired early. 
 
 I was not, however, inclined to sleep, and dis- 
 missing my maid, I sat down, with a bool^ in
 
 84 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 my hand, which I professed my intention to 
 read. Read ! alas ! bitter would have been the 
 agony of the poor author if he had seen the 
 manner in which I treated his labours ; it is true 
 that my eyes were fixed upon the page, but not 
 a single idea was conveyed to my mind, and I 
 sat as little interested in one of the most pathe- 
 tic love stories ever penned, as though I had 
 been looking at the tedious pages of a Dutch 
 grammar. 
 
 Heigho ! why did I sigh ? That was exactly 
 what I was so anxious to discover, and yet, the 
 more I thought upon the subject the more I was 
 perplexed. I had no occasion to sigh, 1 had all 
 the world could give, and every thing I could 
 wish, save the heart of Lord 8eaford. This I 
 had not (here I sighed again) ; but even, if it were 
 laid at my feet, I did not know that it would be 
 of any service to me ; on the contrary, it could 
 not be of the slightest consequence to my peace, 
 whether he ever thought of me again or not. 
 Indeed I ought to wish that he might not, as I 
 had not the least intention to return his pas- 
 sion. Oh no ! that was quite out the question.
 
 THE BRIDE. 85 
 
 Marry him ! I never thouglit of such a thing; 
 and yet if I took such pains to win his heart, 
 should I not commit myself? Was it honour- 
 able to try to make him wretched ? I was quite 
 perplexed. I threw down my book ; my taper 
 was waning to its close ; I was too cross to dis- 
 attire myself, and, in a fit of ill-humour, I rang 
 my bell passionately for my maid ; my summons 
 was not instantly obeyed, and I rang again so 
 violently, that poor Smith, who had fancied her- 
 self at liberty to go to bed, and was, I believe, 
 at that moment quietly dreaming, rushed terri- 
 fied into my presence half dressed, half asleep, 
 and quite stupid. This was enough to provoke 
 me ; in fact, I was delighted to have a legiti- 
 mate cause to find fault, and I scolded the poor 
 girl so unmercifully, that, as she owned after- 
 wards, she thought some of the ghosts of the old 
 castle must certainly have appeared to me, and 
 put me out of temper. 
 
 The following morning I rose with the pru- 
 dent determination to make no more attacks 
 upon the heart of Lord Seaford, till I had ascer- 
 tained whether, in case of my success, I might
 
 86 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 be prevailed upon to give my own in exchange ; 
 but an unexpected event which awaited me de- 
 ranged all my plans. The prudery or punctilio 
 of the Countess had beeil awakened by the arri- 
 val of her nephew and his friends, and to remove 
 any shadow of impropriety which might exist 
 from their remaining at the castle whilst I was 
 her sole guest, she had sent invitations to my 
 aunt ; a tall heavy looking German Prince, her 
 first cousin ; and to his younger brother, who 
 had married a French wife ; a host of visitois 
 thus crowded into the castle, and my good reso- 
 lutions were put to flight. It is true, it ought 
 not to have made any difference, but alas ! how 
 many things happen that ought not ! The Prince 
 was rich, an absolute sovereign in his own do- 
 main, and had sixteen hundred quarterings : 
 consequently my aunt thought him exacdy the 
 person calculated to make me happy in a 
 wedded life. She owned that he was stupid, 
 fond of the pleasures of the table to the 
 grossest excess, and it was whispered wi pen 
 brutal to those in his power; but these were 
 matters of no consequence, and she ardently
 
 THE BRIDE. 87 
 
 wished him to become her nephew. His bro- 
 ther, the Count de L was a finished diplo- 
 matist, but without one idea beyond the in- 
 trigues of a court ; his wife was a French co- 
 quette, very pretty and very affected ; she evi- 
 dently laid herself out to please Seaford, and 
 thus even my conscience was interested in pre- 
 ventinsT her success. It was not to be endured, 
 that the heart I could not subdue, should fall a 
 victim to a French married woman ! my amor 
 patricB^ my morality, all the better feelings of 
 my soul, rose up against such a denouement^ 
 and I was really obliged to pursue my plans 
 against the peace of Lord Seaford, to save him 
 from the machinations of my rival. The only dif- 
 ficulty was to recommence ; I had resolved on af- 
 fecting bluesism, but I now found that would be 
 too much trouble. I was too angry to study, and 
 though very little knowledge is required to 
 figure as a has bleu, I had not time to acquire 
 even that ; I therefore resolved to be a dasher, 
 and to win Lord Seaford's affections by outrag- 
 ing all his feelings of propriety. 
 
 From the moment that I had fu'st excited his
 
 88 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 lordship's attention, he continued covertly to 
 observe me, and I had the satisfaction to see 
 that even when he was talking to Madame de 
 L. he was often watching in what manner I re- 
 ceived the devoirs of the Prince and the Baron. 
 The former, indeed, did not trouble me with 
 many attentions, as his ideas of his own impor- 
 tance were as vast as himself, and he thouixht 
 the intimation that he was ready to honour me 
 with his hand was quite as much as my weak 
 brain was able to endure. The latter, on tjie 
 contrary, who had not the title of Princess to 
 bestow, and who, having English horses, English 
 dogs, English carriages, and English servants, 
 wanted an English wife to complete his esta- 
 blishment, had sense enough to perceive that I 
 was not one who would, unsought, be won, and 
 accordingly he tormented me incessantly with 
 his assiduities. I detested him, as I hate any 
 thing at second hand ; and borrowed manners 
 are even worse than borrowed clothes or bor- 
 rowed wit ; nevertheless, to torment Lord Sea- 
 ford I condescended to be bored a whole even- 
 ing with his folly. I laughed at his bad jokes,
 
 The bride. 89 
 
 praised his French accent (it was like that of a 
 German Jew), and finally, I shudder at the 
 thought, hstened to the whole pedigree of his 
 horses. 
 
 Lord Seaford stood at a little distance during 
 this conversation, in which, however, he did not 
 condescend to join, looking at me more in sor- 
 row than in anger ; but when at last I laid a bet 
 that I would run a race with the Baron, on 
 horseback, the following morning, I saw an ex- 
 pression of unqualified disgust flush over his 
 fine features, and he quitted the room abruptly. 
 I o^\Ti I half repented, and would have given 
 the world to draw back, but it was too late to 
 recede, and I did mon possible to endeavour to 
 seem interested in a debate respecting a fete 
 champetre, which the Countess intended giving 
 the following week. All the Court were invited, 
 and all the ancient country noblesse, who usually, 
 lived shut up in the solemn dignity of their cha- 
 teaux, intended on this occasion to emerge from 
 their hiding places. It was to be the most 
 splendid thing ever known ; so far all agreed, 
 but a little difference of opinion arose when
 
 90 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 the minutiae were entered into. Tlie principal 
 point of discussion was, whether it should be a 
 fancy ball. The Countess thought not ; there 
 appeared something derogatory to her dignity 
 in the idea that her guests should wear fantastic 
 or assumed habits, and she wished to see them 
 shine in all their native splendour; whilst the 
 Baron, whose imagination was excited by a 
 vision of himself as an English jockey, strongly 
 contended for the masquerade. Words ran 
 high, and at last it was determined that the 
 contending parties should abide by my decision. 
 Of course I was eagerly appealed to ; but alas, 
 I had not heard a single syllable of what had 
 passed ; I did not like, however, to confess ig- 
 norance, and as many others have done before 
 me, I prepared to give judgment without know- 
 ing any thing at all of the merits of the case. 
 
 Unfortunately, however. Lord Seaford re- 
 turned at the critical moment when I was called 
 upon to speak ; a circumstance which certainly 
 did not contribute to the enlightening of my 
 understanding. 
 
 " Don't you think. Lady Montressor," asked
 
 THE BRIDE. M 
 
 the Baron, " that fancy dresses at the ball will 
 give life and animation to the scene ? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said I, " they cannot fail to 
 do so.'' 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the Countess, indig- 
 nantly; "Is it possible that Lady iVIontressor 
 can be an advocate for the gross ribaldry and 
 low buffoonery of a masquerade ! Can she 
 wish to see a ball in the ancient hall of a baro- 
 nial mansion, lowered to the grade of a redoute 
 at a theatre ? " 
 
 " Oh no," cried I, hastily, " I hate masque- 
 rades in toto. I can't bear assumed characters 
 at any time, even at the carnival." 
 
 Both parties looked aghast, for having agreed 
 to abide by my opinion, they naturally wished 
 to discover what it was. 
 
 " My dear Emily," observed my aunt, after a 
 short pause, " I really think that you don't know 
 what you are saying." 
 
 The fact was undeniable. I attempted to 
 apologize, but as usual, apologies only made 
 things worse, and overwhelmed with shame and
 
 92 STORIES OF A SRIDE. 
 
 confusion, I retired to my chamber to meditate 
 on what had passed. 
 
 One only idea filled my mind ; it was that 
 I had lost Seaford, and this gave me more tor- 
 ture than I can describe. The expression of 
 his countenance chilled me to the heart, and I 
 found that I had gone too far. I was, however, 
 consoled when Danvers told me the next morn- 
 ing, that his Lordship had disturbed him by six 
 o'clock, to ask whether he thought me mad, or 
 only a fool; and that when Danvers remon- 
 strated on the unreasonableness of expecting an 
 answer to so difficult a question, at such an ex- 
 traordinary hour, he retired as suddenly as he 
 had appeared, leaving Danvers in doubt whether 
 it was indeed his Lordship whom he had seen, 
 or only his ghost, arrayed in the spectre-like 
 costume of dressing-gown and slippers. 
 
 The idea that Seaford could not sleep for 
 thinking of me, acted as a strong stimulant, and 
 I no longer repented my rash engagement with 
 the Baron. In fact I was impatient for the 
 moment of starting to arrive, and I was ready 
 sooner than my swain. Arrayed in my habit
 
 THE BRIDE. 85 
 
 and riding hat, I stood at the window, whip in 
 hand, impatiently watching for the horses to be 
 led out, when Lord Seaford approached me. 
 
 " I do not doubt that you will laugh at me, 
 Lady Montressor," began he, " but — but — I 
 should feel very much obliged if you would not 
 ride to day," 
 
 " And of what possible consequence can it 
 be to you, my Lord, whether I do or not ? " 
 
 " None, certainly, none in the least." 
 
 " Have you any reason for making such a re- 
 quest ? " 
 
 " A foolish fancy ; a kind o? pressentiment has 
 taken possession of my mind — " 
 
 " A what, my Lord ? " 
 
 "I see I was very absurd ; I had certainly 
 no right to interfere, yet as your compatriot I 
 felt anxious to prevent " 
 
 " What? I own myself so stupid as to be totally 
 unable to divine your Lordship's meaning." 
 
 " To prevent my countrywoman from de- 
 grading her sex, or making herself ridiculous." 
 
 " Your Lordship has taken a great deal of un- 
 necessary trouble," returned I, haughtily, for I
 
 B4t STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 was excessively mortified ; " and I regret exceed- 
 ingly that it should have been on my account" 
 
 I had not time to say more, for at that instant 
 Dan vers came hastily into the room, and exclaim- 
 ed, " The fates are against you, my dear cou- 
 sin ! You cannot ride to day, and the Baron, 
 however unwilling, must postpone the pleasure 
 of showing himself your slave." 
 
 " Does he decline the contest, then ? " asked 
 I, excessively vexed at Lord Seaford*s look of 
 triumph. 
 
 " No ! but your mare has slipped her shoul- 
 der." 
 
 This was provoking, as I had no other horse 
 at the chateau, save my groom's cob ; and my 
 aunt had only those which drew her carriage. 
 The Prince and the Baron now appeared, and 
 seeing how much I was disappointed, each of- 
 fered the choice of his stud. I hesitated ; it 
 was now impossible for a woman of any spirit 
 to give up riding, even if I had been obliged 
 to mount one of the old coach-horses of the 
 Countess herself; and at last, as I did not wish to 
 favour the Baron too much, I accepted the loan of
 
 THE BRIDE. 95 
 
 a beautiful Hanoverian belonging to the Prince. 
 His Highness was in raptures, and my aunt's 
 countenance beamed with pleasure, whilst that 
 of Lord Seaford darkened with a coming storm. 
 The horses were led out ; my intended courser 
 was faultless in shape and make, but he stood at 
 least sixteen hands high, and his bright eyes 
 flashed fire as he bent his arched neck, and 
 proudly endeavoured to shake off the controlling 
 hand of the groom. I am naturally rather a 
 coward, and though I had learnt to ride under 
 the best masters of both France and England, 
 and could exhibit a merveille, either in a riding 
 school or the park, Avith my groom close behind, 
 and my own well trained Arabian for a Bu- 
 cephalus, I own my heart beat most awfully 
 at the thought of trusting myself on the back 
 of this fierce looking creature, and I should have 
 been very glad to find any plausible pretext to 
 get myself out of the scrape, had not Lord Sea- 
 ford most injudiciously advised me not to ven- 
 ture. This decided me in an instant, my only 
 answer was a look of contempt; and scarcely 
 availing myself of the assistance of my attend-
 
 96 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 ant beaux, I sprang upon the horse ; the groom 
 loosed his head, and the fiery animal darted off 
 with the rapidity of an arrow. 1 tried to pull 
 him in, but alas ! my strength was totally un- 
 availing; my weight was nothing to him, and 
 he appeared to me flying oiF to join his wild 
 companions in the forests. The thought of 
 Mazeppa crossed my mind, and in my horror 
 at the idea of being carried, I knew not whither, 
 I tried to throw myself off". This, however, for 
 some time I found impossible, for the motion 
 was so rough that I could not disengage myself 
 from the saddle ; the Hanoverian horses, indeed, 
 lift their legs tremendously high from the ground, 
 whenever they move, (I believe they are taught 
 to trot in baskets,) and the gallop of my courser 
 was like the rocking of a ship in a heavy gale 
 of wind. 1 felt that I was losing my respiration, 
 and in despair made a last effort, which was suc- 
 cessful. I fell on the soft green .turf, unhurt, 
 and though terror rendered me unable to move, 
 I did not lose the possession of my senses ; in 
 a few seconds, two horsemen appeared in sight ; 
 they were Lord Seaford and Danvers,
 
 THE BRIDE. 97 
 
 " She has fallen," cried the former ; " See ! 
 there is the horse flying across the plain with- 
 out a rider ! " 
 
 The next instant they perceived me, and, 
 alighting, were both immediately at my side. 
 My eyes were closed ; I could not speak ; and 
 they thought me dead : " Curses on my folly ! " 
 exclaimed Seaford ; "I should have wept — im- 
 plored — entreated ; but it is now too late ; she 
 is gone !" 
 
 " I hope not," said Danvers, trying to 
 raise me. 
 
 " Emily ! my adored Emily ! " shrieked Sea- 
 ford, in an agony of despair ; " I will not sur- 
 vive thee." 
 
 " Hush ! I think she still breathes." 
 
 Seaford's transport was as violent as his 
 grief. Danvers begged him to support me 
 whilst he rode back for assistance ; and accord- 
 ingly he placed his arm round my waist, my 
 head resting on his shoulder, though he trem- 
 bled so violently that he had almost as much 
 occasion for support as I had. My situation 
 became exceedingly awkward ; I felt that I 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 ought not to remain in so tender a position, 
 and yet, how could I open my eyes ? Luckily 
 my dilemma did not continue long; Danvers 
 soon returned with abundance of assistance, and 
 I was conveyed to tlie chateau in safety. 
 
 My aunt, the Prince, the Countess, and the 
 Baron, were all apparently desesperes at my acci- 
 dent, though the Countess, I suspect, was secretly 
 rather pleased that so unfeminine an adventure 
 had had an unpleasant termination. In the 
 meantime I thought of nothing but Lord Sea- 
 ford's exclamations, and I was not sorry that 
 my fall furnished me with an excuse for se- 
 cluding myself from society till I had attained 
 sufficient confidence to meet his eye without 
 blushing. The day fixed for the ball arrived 
 ere I had again joined the family party, and, 
 as I was quite recovered, I determined to make 
 that the scene of my debut ; particularly as I 
 thought I should feel less embarrassment in 
 meeting Seaford in a crowd than only in the 
 presence of our friends. All the mansion was 
 in a bustle. The servants were clothed in their 
 state liveries, and the grey-headed Swiss porter,
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 99 
 
 almost bent double beneath the weight of gold 
 lace he was adorned with, hurried to and fro to 
 answer the frequent summons of his bell, which 
 was in constant requisition. 
 
 My dressing-room was in front of the castle, 
 and as I did not wish to descend till the com- 
 pany were all assembled, I sate at the window 
 watching the arrival of the different carriages, 
 as the lights borne by their numerous attend- 
 ants came flashing up the long avenue. A whole 
 army of footmen, in magnificent liveries, and 
 bearing flambeaux, awaited their approach. 
 Equipages of the most sumptuous description 
 filled the court; and the rich dresses of the 
 jagers of the Hungarian nobles, with their highly 
 ornamented carriages and superb horses, so 
 forcibly struck my fancy, that I could not help 
 exclaiming aloud, " How very much I should 
 like to go to Hungary." 
 
 " La ! my lady," cried Smith, apparently 
 horror struck at the supposition, and dropping 
 a bottle of eau-de-Cologne, which she had in her 
 hand. 
 
 F 2
 
 loo STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " And pray what is your objection/* asked I, 
 pettishly. 
 
 '' Fm sure, my lady, I meant no harm ; but 
 the Hungarians are such monsters, that it put 
 my heart in my mouth to hear your ladyship 
 even mention such a thing.'* 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 " They are half savages ; and they say that 
 in their own country they are cannibals, and do 
 really eat people alive." 
 
 Smith lowered her voice to a whisper whilst 
 communicating this astounding fact, at which I 
 laughed immoderately. " I had no idea," said 
 I, " that you were such a proficient in natural 
 history. Smith. Pray where did you acquire 
 your knowledge ?" 
 
 Smith was piqued. " I assure your lady- 
 ship," said she, " that I had it from one who 
 knows all about it, and would not deceive me.'* 
 
 " But who is this nameless savant ?" 
 
 " The Baron's valet, who has been there in 
 propria persona himself." 
 
 There was no contending against such a 
 display of learning as this, so I bade her begin
 
 THE BRIDE. 101 
 
 to arrange my hair; but Smith's mind still 
 brooded over the insult which I had offered to 
 her information, and creping my curls with an 
 energy which pulled half the hair off my head, 
 she returned to the subject. 
 
 " I hope your ladyship is not offended ; but 
 the Hungarians are worse than heathens. I 
 could tell you such stories as would make your 
 hair stand on end.'' 
 
 " That is, what you leave of it ; which will 
 not be much, if you continue to pull it so un- 
 mercifully." 
 
 " I'm sure I beg your ladyship's pardon." 
 Then, after a pause, " I would not go to live in 
 such a country for all the world," continued she, 
 muttering to herself. 
 
 This opposition from my maid made me think 
 more seriously upon the subject than I odierwise 
 should have done, and my passing fancy soon be- 
 came a positive resolution to go to Hungary, the 
 very first opportunity that presented itself. 
 
 The meeting between Lord Seaford and my- 
 self was very awkward ; we both felt most alarm- 
 ingly conscious, and seemed equally to dread
 
 IDS STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 any kind of explanation. Lord Seaford, how- 
 ever, could not avoid congratulating me on my 
 escape. 
 
 " You must have been dreadfully terrified," 
 said he, " when you found that you had lost all 
 command of the horse." 
 
 " I was still more so afterwards," returned I, 
 *' as I had not the slightest idea where he was 
 taking me ; and, even when I had thrown my- 
 self from his back, I feared that I was in some 
 desert place, where no human being would ever 
 find me, and that I should be soon devoured by 
 wild beasts." 
 
 " Could you think that I — that is, that your 
 friends, all your friends, would not pursue you ? 
 Could you be so unjust both to yourself and 
 them?" 
 
 I was confused by his manner, and answered, 
 hastily, " Nevertheless I was delighted to see 
 your lordship and Danvers, and I was only 
 afraid that you would pass without perceiving 
 me." 
 
 " Ah," cried he, " did yoii see us first ? 
 Then you were not insensible ? "
 
 THE BRIDE. 103 
 
 A deep burning blush was my only answer, 
 for the consciousness that I had unguardedly 
 committed myself, overwhelmed me with con- 
 fusion. A mist seemed to spread around me, 
 I did not dare to look at him, or to utter an^ 
 other syllable : 
 
 " His dark eyes kept fixed on mine, 
 
 Which sank beneath their burning gaze. 
 
 Mine sank — but yet I felt the thrill 
 
 Of that look burning on me still. 
 
 I heard no word that others said — 
 
 Heard nothing, save one low-breatlied sigh." * 
 
 We neither spoke, but our silence was far 
 more eloquent than words, and that moment 
 was the most delightful I ever experienced in 
 my life. My aunt, however, broke the charm ; 
 she approached, and asked Lord Seaford why 
 he did not dance ? 
 
 " Who, I? returned he, relapsing into his 
 former manner ; " / dance ? / descend to an 
 exertion which levels the man of talent and the 
 fool? Surely your ladyship cannot suppose 
 that any person, above the mental capacity of 
 an idiot, would condescend to engage in the 
 giddy whirl of a waltz." 
 
 * L. E. L.
 
 104. STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 t 
 
 " But I should like to dance one," said I, 
 timidly, and blushing at my own assurance; 
 " Will you refuse to be my partner ? " con- 
 tinued I, after a short pause, looking up in his 
 face. 
 
 He hesitated, he was silent a few minutes, 
 and then, smiling, he held out his hand — " Do 
 with me as you please," said he, " you know 
 your power." My triumph was complete, and 
 that evening, ere we parted. Lord Seaford had 
 asked and obtained the promise of my hand. 
 My heart, I am afraid, had slipped away in my 
 endeavour to secure his. 
 
 Nothing is so delightful in reality, and yet so 
 difficult to make interesting on paper, as the 
 time which intervenes between the acceptance 
 and marriage of a favoured lover ; particularly 
 as we had no obstacles to contend with, for my 
 aunt, though I believe in her heart she was very 
 sorry, had too much sense to commit herself by 
 a fruitless opposition; and I considered my 
 visit to the chateau Von PufFendorf as the very 
 happiest event in my life. 
 
 Of course our marriage was quite a bonne
 
 The bride. 105 
 
 houche to all the gossiping dowagers of Vi- 
 enna; and many an unfortunate coach-horse 
 was trotted almost to death by his mistress' 
 anxiety to be the first to communicate the in- 
 telligence. Many shook their heads, some 
 sighed, some laughed, and every coterie pa- 
 tronized a different version of the story. 
 As no two could agree on the manner in 
 which so extraordinary a circumstance was 
 brought about, of course no one ever dreamt of 
 the truth, and I remember, of the two histo- 
 riettes most in vogue, one was that Lord Sea- 
 ford was (secretly) a gamester, and a ruined 
 man, to whom my fortune was exceedingly con- 
 venient ; and the other (the wretches ! I can't 
 imagine how they could fancy such a thing) was 
 that, entre nous, I was suddenly become in a 
 violent hurry to get married ! 
 
 Lord Seaford and I cared very little for these 
 rumours; the necessary papers from England 
 were sent for, the wedding-clothes were bought, 
 even the settlements were completed, and at last 
 the awful day was fixed. As my fancy for 
 visiting Hungary had not subsided, it was agreed 
 F 5
 
 106 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 that we should make a tour in that kingdom 
 immediately after our wedding, attended only 
 by our body servants ; whilst my aunt, with the 
 rest of our establishment, remained at Vienna. 
 
 " The honeymoon you know, my dear Emily," 
 whispered Seaford, " should be passed in pri- 
 vacy." 
 
 I blushed, and owned that I did not see any 
 very great necessity for much company ; and 
 so the arrangement was carried nem. con. 
 
 The evening before my marriage, as Smith 
 was undressing me, I found her unusually si- 
 lent, whilst her mind seemed labouring with 
 something which she found it quite impossible 
 to bring forth. My own mind was so fully oc- 
 cupied that it was sometime before I took any 
 notice of her agonies, till at length they became so 
 violent, that I was moved to inquire the cause. 
 
 " The fact is," said Smith, " that your lady- 
 ship has always been a kind generous lady, and 
 I have always loved your ladyship extremely." 
 
 " Well," said I, laughing, "and is it this new 
 discovery, which you appear to have just made, 
 that occasions you to seem so unhappy ? "
 
 THE BRIDE. 107 
 
 " No, my lady ; I — I have always thought 
 so, and I have always been quite happy." 
 
 " Then 1 was mistaken, and there is nothing 
 the matter?" 
 
 " No, my lady; but — but — " Smith was 
 posed, she paused, and then added, abruptly, 
 " I can't go to Hungary my lady." 
 
 " Ridiculous ! " 
 
 " Indeed I cannot, my lady. Upon my 
 word and honour I have reasoned with myself 
 by the hour. Says I — " 
 
 " I do not want to hear what you said, but 
 what you say. Are you earnest in your deter- 
 mination?" 
 
 " Quite, my lady ; though it quite goes 
 against me to say so." 
 
 " But have you considered what an incon- 
 venience you are exposing me to. I cannot 
 ask my aunt to let me have her maid, as you 
 know she has been very poorly for some time, 
 and Harris is the only person she can bear 
 about her when she is ill." 
 
 " Oh no, my lady, it is morally impossible 
 \x)u can take Mrs. Harris. Lady Arlington
 
 108 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 cannot exist without her, particularly as she is 
 sure to take on so for the loss of your ladyship." 
 
 I smiled. « Well Smith," said I, " but what 
 am I to do ? You must be aware that you have 
 not treated me well, in leaving this to the last 
 moment." 
 
 " I'm sure — I — I — wouldn't treat your lady- 
 ship ill for all the world," sobbing. 
 
 " But is your dislike to Hungary your only 
 reason for this strange behaviour ? " 
 
 " Why — to be sure, your ladyship — there is 
 one other — little — reason — besides;" still sob- 
 bing. 
 
 "And what is it?" 
 
 ** 1 Ve promised — to marry — the Baron's 
 valet next week, — and — he can't — leave his 
 master." 
 
 " And so he obliges you to leave your mis- 
 tress ? Upon my word, 1 am very much obliged 
 to him." 
 
 " He did not wish to incommode your lady- 
 ship in the least." 
 
 " You have twice repeated that you did not 
 intend to incommode me, and, as you are not
 
 THE BRIDE. lOflf 
 
 quite a fool, I suppose the interpretation of this 
 is, that you have some person to recommend in 
 your place?'* 
 
 " Why, my lady, I do own, I did think little 
 Martha — " 
 
 " Little Martha !," cried I, catching eagerly 
 at the idea ; " Delightful ! She is the very per- 
 son ! I had really quite forgotten her." 
 
 " I have taught her to dress hair just in your 
 ladyship's style, and she has practised upon 
 me every day." 
 
 I was quite amused at this, and sending for 
 Martha, I was struck with the alteration that 
 "foreign travel," and the able instructions of 
 Smith, had produced in her appearance and 
 manner. She had still enough naivete to be en- 
 tertaining, but she had now learnt the necessary 
 tact to know how to bring it forward only in the 
 right place. Her manners also were very much 
 polished, and her person was improved. In 
 short, I was very well satisfied with the change,, 
 whilst I was absolutely affected at the poor girl's 
 raptures, and the almost clannish devotion 
 which she expressed towards my person.
 
 110 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 This momentous affair being finally arranged, 
 I went to bed — but not to sleep — for, in spite of 
 my frivolity, I had very serious notions of the 
 importance of the duties which I was about to 
 undertake. The horrible idea that I should 
 soon put my happiness out of my own power, 
 and that when the awful vow had been once 
 pronounced there was no going back, took 
 strong possession of my imagination; and I 
 conjured up a thousand frightful fancies, that 
 almost terrified me out of my senses. " I never 
 can promise obedience,'^ thought I, " unless I 
 make a mental reservation ; for I never did any 
 thing I did not like in my life. I must cer- 
 tainly tell Seaford that I have changed my 
 mind." 
 
 With this resolution I fell asleep. However, 
 in the morning, concluding, on mature consi- 
 deration, that I must be married some time or 
 other, I thought it might be as well to let the 
 matter go on. 
 
 We were married : and, though I was a 
 little nervous, we got through the ceremony 
 pretty well. We then sat down to a cold colla-
 
 THE BRIDE. Ill 
 
 tion, which neither of us had the want of de- 
 cency to taste; and, after a due proportion of 
 tears and embraces, we parted from our friends, 
 and I soon found myself in our travelling-car- 
 riage alone with my husband. I cannot say 
 that I felt disposed to be particularly entertain- 
 ing, but Seaford was just the reverse — he 
 quite came out upon me ; for I had no idea be- 
 fore that he could be one half so agreeable, and 
 I was glad to find that 1 had no reason to re- 
 pent my choice. ^ly spirits rose, for his gaiety 
 awakened mine ; and before we had proceeded 
 many miles from Vienna I was able to admire 
 the prospects, which really were delightful, and 
 to enjoy the pleasures of our journey — almost 
 as well as if I had not so lately vowed to be a 
 slave. 
 
 At Presburg we staid for the night ; and after 
 we had dined, for, in spite of our interesting 
 situation, our long journey had made us conde- 
 scend to take some dinner, we strolled out to 
 enjoy the fresh evening breeze upon the banks 
 of the Danube. 
 
 Every thing appeared delicious. I have been
 
 112 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 told that Presburg is an ugly town, and thtf 
 Danube a muddy river ; but I am sure to me it 
 seemed Elysium, and I never liked any country 
 so well as this : 
 
 *'I gazed with rapture on the winding stream, 
 Its waters dancing in the moon's pale beam — 
 The verdant plains — the gently waving trees — 
 And sighed to hear the murm'ring of the breeze." 
 
 In short, I was in a fair way to get romantic, 
 when the charm was broken by a harsh voice 
 asking charity in English ! I turned hastily 
 towards the spot from whence the sound pro- 
 ceeded, and saw a tall, thin old man standing at 
 a little distance, leaning against a tree, and 
 holding in his arms a beautiful little spaniel. I 
 was too happy myself to bear to see any one 
 in misery, and flying to him, I gave him the 
 contents of my purse. 
 
 " God bless you," said he, emphatically : "Now 
 I need not sell my dog." 
 
 There was something in the man's manner so 
 fai* above a common beggar, that Seaford's cu- 
 riosity was excited, and he also advanced to- 
 wards him.
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 113 
 
 "Who are you?" asked he. 
 
 " I was an EngUsh scholar, and an author — 
 1 am a. famishing Hungarian pauper; but, in 
 every varied situation of life, I trust I have 
 always been a gentleman." 
 
 The oddit^^ of this reply increased our in- 
 terest, and we sat down on a mossy bank to hear 
 his story. He did not require many persuasions 
 to induce him to tell it — people seldom do when 
 the tale is about themselves, and we were just 
 in the best possible disposition to hear it. 
 
 " I was educated at an English university," 
 said hcj " and was designed by my parents 
 for the church. I had, however, no inclination 
 for the vocation, and my father dying shortly 
 before I took orders, I determined to employ 
 my little jxitrimony in visiting every known part 
 of the globe. In pursuance of this design I 
 have long been a wanderer ; youth and manhood 
 have passed away, and now the frosts of age 
 have silvered over my brow, without my having 
 made any friends or formed any connections, 
 whilst my fortune gradually dwindled away, till 
 at last I found myself without a stiver, and I
 
 114 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 feared that I should be obliged to sell even this 
 poor creature, who has been my faithful companion 
 for the last four years, to preserve a little 
 longer my miserable life. You have saved me 
 from this alternative, and it is not in the power 
 of words to express my gratitude.'' 
 
 " But when you found poverty creeping upon 
 you, why did you not relinquish your rambles, 
 and try to obtain some fixed employment ere it 
 was too late ?" 
 
 " I could not, for habit had become second 
 nature ; and yet, even in the full indulgence of 
 my wishes, I was not satisfied. Tired of the 
 world and of myself, I roamed from city to city, 
 and from place to place, in the hope that change 
 of scene might procure the happiness I sought. 
 It was in vain. A heavy weight hung on my 
 heart, and poisoned every pleasure. I knew too 
 much; long habits of observance had opened 
 to my view the breasts of men, and who can 
 read there without disgust. I found that one 
 sole principle animated mankind, the degrading 
 one of self interest. The thirst of gold was the 
 primum mobile of all their actions, and the only
 
 THE BRIDE. 115 
 
 sentiment inspired by the sight of a stranger 
 was the sordid calculation of how much money 
 they might hope to realize by his presence.'* 
 
 " I believe you may be right with regard to 
 France and Italy," said Lord Seaford. 
 
 " And I am afraid we may add England 
 and Germany," added I ; " but are not the 
 Swiss still simple and unsophisticated? I 
 have heard so much of their fascinating inno- 
 cence and almost patriarchal manners, that I 
 have been half my life, dying to visit their 
 country." 
 
 The old man smiled. " Alas, madam," said 
 he, " that fascinating innocence has quite dis- 
 appeared, if, indeed, it ever existed. The inn- 
 keepers of Geneva and Lausanne are now as 
 expert at running up a bill, and making the 
 most of their customei's, as even their more ex- 
 perienced brethren of Brighton or Dover." 
 
 " And is Hungary also corrupted?" asked 
 Seaford. 
 
 " No," returned the wanderer; " it still re- 
 tains some of its original purity ; though now 
 travellers penetrate into its wilds, and even the
 
 116 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 romantic passes of the Carpathian mountains 
 echo to the stranger's tread. But as Hungary 
 is deficient in most objects which attract female 
 curiosity, it is never hkely to be overrun with 
 visitors hke France and Italy.'' 
 
 " Why does that follow?" asked I. 
 
 " Because, women rule men, and half their 
 journeys are undertaken to gratify female ca- 
 prices; and the mines and mountains of Hungary, 
 the only things it contains really worth seeing, are 
 scarcely fit to be explored by ladies who have 
 been brought up with the utmost delicacy and 
 tenderness. The towns are neither beautiful nor 
 animated ; and its immense plains and muddy 
 rivers are any thing but picturesque. Yet there 
 is much in Hungary to interest the philosophic 
 mind. The manners of the inhabitants have a 
 freshness and originality about them delightful 
 to a mind wearied with the hackneyed forms of 
 society; and frankness and hospitality, those 
 virtues so rare in more cultivated countries, here 
 seem indigenous to the soil." 
 
 " But do you not think that this bewitching 
 simplicity arises solely from ignorance of the
 
 THE BRIDE. IIT 
 
 world; and that if Hungary were as much fre- 
 quented as France and Italy, its inhabitants 
 would become equally selfish and rapacious ?" 
 asked Seaford. 
 
 " Very possibly they might," returned the 
 traveller ; " but it seems folly to anticipate evil. 
 The kindness of the Hungarians to stranfjers 
 may be evanescent as the bloom upon the plum, 
 but it is beautiful whilst it lasts, and woe be to 
 the rude hand that should attempt prematurely 
 to destroy it.". 
 
 So saying, he rose, and would have retired, 
 but Seaford stopped him ; " Stay," said he, " we 
 part not thus, my friend. This is my wedding- 
 day, and I do not think I can commemorate it 
 better than by making a fellow-creature happy. 
 What my wife gave you can only supply your 
 immediate wants ; but this (giving him a pocket 
 book) will be of longer duration; and when it is 
 exhausted, you will find my address in England, 
 where I will afford you a permanent home when- 
 ever you may feel inclined to seek one." 
 
 The old man stood a moment gazing upon 
 him in silence ; then, falling on his knees, whilst
 
 11^ STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 tears coursed each other down his furrowed 
 cheeks, he seized Seaford's hand, and, kissing it 
 rapturously, invoked blessings on us both. 
 
 " Oh that I had any means of showing my 
 gratitude," sobbed he ; " it overpowers me ; I 
 cannot bear it. Do take my dog." 
 
 " No, no,'* said I, putting it back ; " it is your 
 only friend. I would not deprive you of it for 
 the world." 
 
 The old man looked at the dog affectionately. 
 " I do love it," said he. Then starting on his 
 feet, as if struck by a sudden recollection, he 
 began to fumble in the bosom of his coat. " You 
 are right, madam ; I believe it would break my 
 heart to part with Fidele, and you do not want 
 him. But I have something here which I trust 
 you will find worthy of your acceptance." 
 
 So saying, he drew from his bosom a large 
 bundle of dirty paper, and laid it at my feet. I 
 could scarcely refrain from laughing at the gra- 
 vity and importance of his air ; for he offered 
 me this dingy gift with a look which seemed to 
 say, " You are now amply repaid, and the obli- 
 gation I was under is fully discharged."
 
 THE BRIDE. 119 
 
 As I did not like to hurt the poor fellow's 
 feelings, I raised the filtliy packet from the 
 ground (though I was almost afraid to touch 
 it), and found every atom of paper closely writ- 
 ten upon. 
 
 "What is this?" asked I. 
 
 " Some of my MSS." returned the man ; a 
 glow of conscious pride flushing his care-worn 
 cheek. " I told you, madam, that I was an 
 author ; and I now add, that, in the course of 
 my varied wanderings, I have met with many 
 strange adventures, which I have embodied in 
 tales. Every year I have written four ; which 
 I have regularly concealed in a place of secu- 
 rity, which no torments shall ever foi'ce me to 
 disclose till the fitting time comes for them to 
 meet the public eye, when they shall blaze forth 
 with dazzling refulgence, and bestow fame and 
 immortality upon even the frail and emaciated 
 being who now stands before you." 
 
 The old man's figure seemed to dilate as he 
 spoke, and his eyes absolutely flashed fire. I 
 was astonished, and really determined to read 
 what he had given me, out of respect to his en-
 
 120 STORIES OF A BRIPE. 
 
 thusiasm. He soon recovered himself, and, 
 apparently ashamed of his unwonted emotion, 
 continued with more calmness, " These are 
 the fruits of my labours during the last year, 
 and I do not think that I can dispose of 
 them better than by laying them at your 
 feet." 
 
 " I accept your kindness most gratefully. Be 
 assured that I shall have great delight in pe- 
 rusing them, and that I shall value them 
 highly." 
 
 " Promise me one thing," said the old man, 
 wringing my hand ; " I have but one thing to 
 ask, and I shall die happy. If you do not hear 
 any thing of me in two years, let my manuscripts 
 be published, and tell the world in what manner 
 you obtained them." 
 
 I promised solemnly, and the old man retired. 
 I have never seen him since. 
 
 " This is a singular adventure, Emily," said 
 my husband, when we were again alone ; " Do 
 you think you will be able to decypher his 
 writing ? " 
 
 *' I don't know," said I, looking horror-
 
 THE BRIDE. 121 
 
 Struck at the scrawl. " Hov/ever, my maid 
 shall try to copy them." 
 
 Accordingly, on my return to the inn, I gave 
 the packet to Martha, directing her to employ 
 her leisure hours in the transcription. 
 
 The next day we proceeded on our journey. 
 The country between Presburg and Raab was 
 extremely beautiful ; but beyond that town it 
 became flat and uninteresting. Immense plains, 
 spreading in every direction, oppressed the 
 mind with a sense of loneliness and desolation ; 
 and as we advanced, we seemed approaching a 
 new world, where all was different from that 
 which we had quitted. However, situated as 
 we were, even this had its charm, for what did 
 we care for outward objects, while we felt that 
 we were all the world to each other ! 
 
 It was nearly dark when we arrived at Pesth, 
 and the soft air of Hungary threw a grey mist 
 round its magnificent houses, which made them 
 look like fairy palaces. Tlie noble and regular 
 streets of this fine city were now thronged with 
 people, and as it happened to be the time of the 
 great fair, we had some difficulty in obtaining a 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 lodging, even in the magnificent hotel of the 
 Konig Von Ungern, though it is said to make 
 up more than a hundred beds. We were com- 
 pelled, for want of other accommodation, to sit 
 down to the table d'hote with a heterogeneous 
 mixture of persons of both sexes and all nations. 
 To amuse us while we ate, a kind of Esper 
 George played tricks, and exhibited the ma- 
 noeuvres of his dog, who, by the way, was far 
 the cleverer animal of the two. Two women 
 performed a duet on silver Jew's harps, accom- 
 panied by a two stringed violoncello, which 
 sounded like the bass singer in a Jewish syna- 
 gogue ; and lastly, a number of children mount- 
 ed on stilts, performed a sort of play. 
 
 I was pleased with the novelty of the scene, 
 and enjoyed it extremely, but Seaford was an- 
 noyed ; his imperturbable composure was dis- 
 composed, and the equanimity of his temper 
 completely ruffled. Indeed, trifles which I 
 scarcely noticed, were to him serious evils, and 
 I was sorry to find that his patience was not 
 quite so conspicuous as his talents. This was 
 rather an awkward discovery to make the se-
 
 THE BRIDE. 123 
 
 cond day after mati'imony, though, unfortu- 
 nately the circumstance was far more disagree- 
 able than uncommon. 
 
 We were too much tired to feel inclined to 
 sui-vey the wonders of the fair that evening, but 
 the following morning we walked forth to gra- 
 tify our curiosity. The large square in which 
 this motley assembly was held, was crowded 
 with people. Hungarian peasants, with their 
 heavy good-humoured stupidity of look, were 
 standing by their wares without making the 
 slightest eifort to recommend them, whilst their 
 loose jackets trimmed with fur, and their long 
 hair hanging over their shoulders, gave them a 
 most picturesque appearance. The dress of the 
 women was equally singular ; their tight vests 
 were fastened down the front with glittering 
 buttons, and their short petticoats of the most 
 glaring colours, displayed the whole of the led 
 morocco hessian boots, which covered their 
 enormous legs nearly to the knee. 
 
 Behind these peasants was an enclosed space 
 surrounded by a barricado formed of the empty 
 waggons and cars which had come to the fair 
 G 2
 
 124 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 loaded with merchandize, and which now, tilted 
 up, were thus arranged to prevent the escape of 
 the wild horses which the Hungarians had 
 broufjht for sale; and which were bound in 
 every possible direction, by broad thongs made 
 of the untanned hides of cattle. 
 
 A picturesque group of Cygani, or Gipsies, 
 next caught my attention, and these savage wild- 
 looking people were, some singing wild melo- 
 dies to their guitars, and some revealing the 
 high secrets of destiny to the simple peasants, 
 who stood listening with open mouths to the 
 wonders that they heard. 
 
 On one side a charlatan displayed surprising 
 feats of legerdemain ; and on the other an am- 
 bulatory theatre delighted the eyes of the ad- 
 miring multitude by the adroitness and coarse 
 wit of a wandering Pagliazzo, or speaking har- 
 lequin, whose jokes were received with enthu- 
 siastic applause. Here some vagrant Italians 
 exhibited the well-known Signor Policinel in 
 all his glory : and there some substantial Ger- 
 mans performed the equally hackneyed adven- 
 tures of the celebrated Don Juan, metamor-
 
 THE BRIDE. 125 
 
 phosed into a fat German; whilst the devils, 
 who, at the end of both pieces, carried away the 
 heroes, partook of the characters of their re- 
 spective nations. The German demon being a 
 dull heavy-looking gnome, who could only re- 
 mind one of the ghost of a defunct coal-heaver ; 
 whilst the Italian was a merry, active, mischief- 
 loving imp, full of fun and frolick, and in short, 
 a fit representative of the fairy Robin Good- 
 fellow. 
 
 An immense nmnber of Jews, diligently ply- 
 ing their several avocations, were scattered 
 through the long lines of booths, which spread 
 in all directions. The marked physiognomy ol' 
 this singular people, contrast strikingly with 
 that of the sly Croatians, the indolent Turks, 
 the phlegmatic Germans, and the crafty Italians. 
 All, however, were busily employed in nearly 
 the same pursuit; that is, in exchanging the 
 merchandize they brought, for that which they 
 were in need of. 
 
 The scene was beautiful in the extreme. Be- 
 hind us rose the noble city of Pesth, its superb 
 buildings of polished stone glittering in the sun.
 
 12© STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Around spread immense plains, through which 
 flowed the sweeping Danube, looking in the 
 distance like a silver riband floating in the air. 
 At the extreme edge of the horizon might be 
 discovered the faint outline of mountains, melt- 
 ing into the soft grey sky ; whilst immediately 
 before us, though on the other side of the river, 
 the fortress of Buda reared its stately head, 
 looking down, as though with proud contempt, 
 upon the busy crowd beneath. The bridge of 
 boats which separated the two cities, was 
 thronged with human beings, in every possible 
 variety of costume, who appeared walking on the 
 water, the slender line which supported them 
 being quite hidden by the immensity of the 
 crowd. 
 
 We crossed this singular bridge, and entering 
 Buda, ascended to the esplanade, from which 
 we commanded a full view of the busy scene 
 beneath, together with one of the most mag- 
 nificent prospects I ever beheld. I was en- 
 chanted. 
 
 " Oh ! Seaford," cried I, " this is a lovely 
 world ! ''
 
 THE BRIDE. 127 
 
 «« Happiness makes it so," said he; "with 
 those we love, a desert would seem paradise." 
 
 *« 1 believe that happiness depends more upon 
 ourselves than upon external objects ; and yet 
 these objects do sometimes influence us. Do 
 you remember last night ? You were with me, 
 and yet, you did not seem to enjoy your supper 
 room." 
 
 " That was because other, and vulgar persons 
 were present ; had we been alone, that vile room, 
 with its bare benches and sanded floor, would 
 have appeared an apartment in a palace." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Seaford ! enthusiastic lovers 
 ought not even to see bare benches and sanded 
 floors; I am afraid you are not quite so far gone 
 as you fancy yourself.' ' 
 
 " It was for you only that I suffered; love 
 makes us sensitive, and I could not bear that 
 you, even for an instant, should mix with per- 
 sons so beneath you." 
 
 " Travellers must not think of trifles, re- 
 member that we are incog., and that we left our 
 dignity behind us at Vienna. With my aunt I
 
 128 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 suppose, and I am sure it could not be in better 
 hands ; she will take excellent care of it." 
 
 " I declare Emily you have quite vexed me 
 by seeming to think that / v^^as annoyed by our 
 miserable accommodations last night. I assure 
 you that I never think of myself, it was entirely 
 on your account that I was uneasy ; such trifles 
 have not the smallest influence upon me." 
 " Voila M. le philosophe ! " 
 "I can bear your raillery, for I really do 
 pique myself upon the name of philosopher. I 
 am a lover of wisdom, for such is the meaning 
 of the Greek words from which the term philo- 
 sopher is compounded, and can there be a more 
 exalted title? No, there cannot; and as the 
 love of a pure and divine object elevates the 
 mind, and raises it above all paltry feelings, so 
 does the adoration of wisdom free her votaries 
 from all annoyances, that i^ from unworthy, or 
 insignificant annoyances. I repeat, that for my- 
 self, I am perfectly indifferent to personal com- 
 forts, and I could sleep as well on a heap of 
 straw in a hovel, as on a bed of down in a pa- 
 lace." I shivered, and Seaford, folding his cloak
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 129 
 
 round me to preserve me from the cold, p. oposed 
 that we should instantly return to our inn. 
 
 On recrossing the fair, I was struck with tiie 
 great number of aged people that were amongst 
 the rest. In one place ten or twelve, all appear- 
 ing above a hundred years of age, were sitting un- 
 der the shade of a tilted waggon (so placed as to 
 form a kind of tent), surrounded by their descend- 
 ants, some as far removed, I was told, as the sixth 
 iXeneration, all eatinor water melons and other 
 fruits with the same glee, and all laughing with 
 equal earnestness at the tricks of a Quacksalber^ 
 or Pagliazzo, who happened to be near them. 
 
 When we reached our inn, the fame of our 
 consequence, which Leopold, Seaford's valet, 
 had taken care to spread, secured us a private 
 room and a decent dinner; which, entre nous, 
 my philosophic spouse enjoyed much more 
 than I. 
 
 The following morning our carriage was 
 ordered at an early hour, to proceed into the 
 interior; for, though I suspect my caro spcso 
 had seen quite enough of the delices a* Monger i?\ 
 from time immemorial the caprices of a yoiin^ 
 G 5
 
 130 STORIES OF A BKIDE, 
 
 bride have always been attended to, and I was 
 determined to go on, as I had heard that there 
 was a town in Hungary where there were eight 
 hundred bootmakers, only one bookseller, and 
 no lawyer ! " Mon Dieu ! Ces Hongeriens doi- 
 vent ttre les bons gens ! " cried I, and I never 
 rested till we were on the road to visit this mi- 
 raculous city. 
 
 The first stage or two, presented nothing par- 
 ticular ; but as we advanced the scene changed ; 
 and one morning when we descended to the car- 
 riage I shrank back with horror at the appear- 
 ance of our steeds. Such horses ! they looked as 
 if a single whisk of their tails would entirely an- 
 nihilate our elegant English carriage ; and the 
 postillions were fierce, savage-looking fellows, 
 with jack-boots large enough to hold their wives 
 and families. Both men and horses indeed seemed 
 tremendous exaggerations of the very worst of 
 their species in either France or Germany ; and 
 they were all so big, tliat I rubbed my eyes, 
 half fancying that I had a pair of magnifying 
 spectacles on. Every thing looked gigantic, 
 the carriage certainly excepted, which appeared
 
 THE BRIDE. 131 
 
 by comparison actually made of wafers. Sea- 
 ford handed me in, and we set off at a pace 
 which reminded me of Biirger's Leonora : 
 
 Then helter skelter off they go. 
 
 Unheeding wet or dry ; 
 The horse and rider snort and blow. 
 
 The sparkling pebbles fly. 
 
 The roads were intolerable, and to a fanciful 
 mind our unfortunate carriage seemed sighing 
 and "jroanin*? at the ills which it was forced to 
 undergo ; for at every jolt the springs creaked, 
 and the pannels stretched like the straining of 
 a ship at sea ; and really we could scarcely have 
 been shaken more, if we had been actually tossed 
 about on the tempestuous ocean. Still we were 
 dragged on, through thick and thin, the poor 
 carriage whirling along like a balloon in a gale 
 of wind. At length we stopped to change 
 horses, and such creatures as were brought to 
 us ! Mon Dieu ! what language can describe 
 them. Just caught from the fields, soiled with 
 earth and every kind of filth, with shaggy hair 
 like Newfoundland dogs, and heels like a lion's 
 mane, I shudder at the recollection. 
 
 With this reinforcement we again set forward-
 
 132 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 on our journey, and it was not till the sun was 
 near setting that we saw anything resembling the 
 mountain, which we were told would distinguish 
 the town where we were to sleep ; and when at 
 last a gentle acclivity appeared at the edge of 
 the horizon, it was so slight as scarcely to de- 
 serve the name. We were, however, aware 
 that in level countries the slightest eminences 
 are called hills, and we of course supposed that 
 this must be the object of our search. It was 
 too far to reach that night; and seeing a pretty 
 looking village at a little distance, we directed 
 our postillions to drive thither, intending to sleep 
 there, and go on the following morning. The 
 men muttered something in a horribly barba- 
 rous dialect, which we really could not under- 
 stand, and then they sullenly obeyed. We had 
 not proceeded far, however, before we fully 
 comprehended the meaning of their hesitation ; 
 the road became tremendous, at one moment 
 our eleffant vehicle was raised almost to the 
 skies, then viokntly depressed ; now one wheel 
 ascended far above its companions, and then 
 another, whilst the ambition of the former was
 
 THE BRIDE. 133^" 
 
 sunk low in mud. During these interesting 
 evolutions I watched the countenance of my 
 philosophic husband, as well as the rapidly fad- 
 inir liijht would allow, and I own I was amused 
 to see the difficulty he had to restrain his tem- 
 per. He did, however, refrain till we reached 
 the village, and stopped at the principal inn, 
 when he involuntarily ejaculated, "Thank God." 
 We descended, and were ushered into a large 
 room with a clay floor ; a considerable quantity 
 of straw was spread in a corner, and some pine 
 logs blazed on the open hearth; a number of 
 wild looking people, who had been sitting round 
 this fire, rose at our entrance, and gathered 
 about us, with such strange gestures and friglil- 
 ful cries that I was terrified, and clung closely 
 to my husband for protection. 
 
 '^ Salve! salve Domine ! " cried they, simul- 
 taneously ; " Salve Domina ! salvete ! " and one 
 of them attempted to take my cloak. I shrank 
 back with horror. 
 
 " Vah ! ill sapis nimium,'' cried the host, 
 bustling through the crowd, and pushing the 
 fellow away, " Qiiando prandetis, Domine ? "
 
 134. STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 continued he, bowing, and showing some black- 
 ened and greasy hams hanging in the smoke of-' 
 the chimney. 
 
 Seaford and I both turned away in disgust. 
 " Can we have a bed ? " asked he, abruptly. 
 
 " /mo," returned the host, " bonus lectus^^ 
 and advancing towards the straw, he pointed 
 to it, declaring, in doggrel Latin, that it was 
 quite fresh, and had never been slept upon but 
 once ! 
 
 We looked at each other in dismay, and bit- 
 terly regreted that we had not taken the advice 
 of the host and hostess of the Konig Von Ungern, 
 at Pesth, which, we had fancied dictated by self- 
 ish motives ; and refrained from penetrating into 
 the interior, until we had provided ourselves 
 with every possible accommodation which tra- 
 vellers could want in a desert country. 
 
 " What shall we do ?" asked Seaford; " We 
 must go on ; it is impossible to remain here ? '' 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 " Surely," continued he, indignantly, "you 
 would not sleep on such a bed as that ! " 
 
 " Can't we pass the night in the carriage? "
 
 THE BRIDE. 135 
 
 " Impossible. There is a dreadful fog, and 
 your health is so delicate, we must return. Even 
 if we are forced to travel all night on the high 
 road, the air will be purer than in this vile 
 hole ! " 
 
 I thought it not pretty for a bride to be ob- 
 stinate, so I bowed obedience. The postillions 
 were not so amiable. They vowed they would 
 not stir without rest ; and the horses partook of 
 their firmness, for they stood as immoveable as 
 though they had been carved of rock ; no fresh 
 ones were to be procured, and there was no 
 other inn in the place. Seaford tried in vain to 
 overcome their resolution; flattery, and even 
 gold produced no effect, till at last he recollected 
 he had an order from the nobleman, whose es- 
 tates he was traversing, to secure attention. The 
 effect of this paper was magical, and no firman 
 from the Turkish Divan ever produced more 
 implicit obedience. The host was instantly 
 quieted, and the postillions bowed and mounted, 
 with great difficulty, persuading their jaded 
 horses to advance. 
 
 The scene was to me both novel and striking ;
 
 136 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 indeed, I was not before aware that the feudal 
 system, which was so long the disgrace and bane 
 of Europe, was still so devoutly preserved in 
 Hungary. It there exists, however, in almost its 
 pristine glory ; the peasant regards his lord with 
 an eye of awe and veneration ; he considers him 
 as a superior being, whom it is his duty to obey, 
 and, I believe, thinks nobility a sort of interme- 
 diate state between men and angels. I remem- 
 ber that afterwards, w^ien speaking to an Hun- 
 garian woman of Prince Esterhazy, she asked 
 me, in the hyperbolic idiom of her country, whe- 
 ther " my eyes had been ever blessed by the 
 light of his countenance ! " and she called Prince 
 Lichenstein " the sun of his peasantry." 
 
 Our forced march was exceedingly disagree- 
 able, our progress was very slow ; it was quite 
 dark, and the tired horses could scarcely drag 
 the carriage through the great ruts ; still Sea- 
 ford would go on, till a sudden jolt stopped us 
 altogether. The springs broke, in fact the car- 
 riage split in twain (as they say in the old ro- 
 mances), and both Seaford and I were thrown 
 out with violence. I fainted, it being my first
 
 THE BlUDE. lot 
 
 appearance in that character, and when I reco- 
 vered, I found myself stretched beside my bleed- 
 ing husband, on the very bed of straw which we 
 had both, a short time before, so cordially de- 
 spised. 
 
 The scene was striking : all the wild fierce 
 looking men had disappeared, and we were only 
 attended by the weeping Martha, and an im- 
 mensely tall woman, who was boiling something 
 in a myterious looking cauldron, over the red 
 flaring fire, and waving herself to and fro, mut- 
 tering incantations all the time. She was a 
 living personification of iMegMerrilies,only taller 
 and more masculine. As she spread her red 
 bony hands to the fire, they seemed to my 
 fevered imagination like the enormous claws of 
 demons, such as I have seen them represented 
 in old pictures, dragging down unfortunate 
 sinners to the infernal regions. I never saw a 
 more hideous creature ; I should think she must 
 have been full seven feet high, and her dry, 
 bony arms, as she frequently raised them above 
 her head and then let them fall again, looked
 
 138 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 like the levers of an immense steam-engine 
 made red hot. 
 
 She was one of the Cygani, or wandering 
 Gipsies, and being considered the leech of the 
 tribe, was really muttering a charm whilst she 
 prepared a poultice to dress my husband's 
 wounds. His groans, indeed, soon attracted all 
 my attention to himself; and my agony was un- 
 speakable, when I found that his leg was broken , 
 and that he had received a severe cut upon the 
 head. Oh ! how bitterly did I then lament the 
 foolish whim that had made me wish to take this 
 unfortunate journey; and how sincerely I 
 vowed, that no consideration should ever again 
 make me capricious. My vows, however, were 
 now too late. 
 
 When the Gipsey had finished her incanta- 
 tion, she put the mess to cool, and then ap- 
 proached my husband, singing a kind of magic 
 song; she knelt by his side, and then, with the 
 dexterity of an experienced practitioner, she pro- 
 ceeded to set the leg. I shrieked for the pain 
 which I saw him suifer, and was quite incapable 
 of affording the least assistance, but Martha be-
 
 THE BRIDE. 139 
 
 haved like a little heroine; the old Gipsey was 
 pleased, and patting her cheek, called her " Bo- 
 na puella ! " Then it was, that all the misery 
 of our situation rushed upon my mind. Martha 
 was totally ignorant of Latin ; I knew only a 
 few words of it, and no one near us spoke or 
 understood any other language, excepting the 
 barbarous Hungarian, My husband was in- 
 capable of giving us any aid, and Leopold 
 was gone to the nearest town in search of 
 medical assistance. Never before did I feel so 
 utterly desolate, and I wept in the bitterness of 
 my heart. Little Martha, however, was a host 
 in herself, and by dint of her indefatigable ex- 
 ertions she contrived in a short time to make 
 us tolerably comfortable; she found, in some 
 out-house, a kind of wooden settle, which had 
 been used as the foundation of a stack of buck- 
 wheat. This she had brought into the kitchen, 
 and whilst it was drying by the fire, she sewed 
 a long piece of linen together, and stuffing it 
 with chaff, and the dried leaves of the Indian 
 corn, managed to make a sort of bed. Seaford 
 was then carefully laid upon it ; and I, doubly
 
 140 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 a CountesSj and born to enormous wealth, felt 
 the most ecstatic rapture I had ever experienced 
 in my life, when I saw my husband, a British 
 Earl, laid on this homely couch. 
 
 He was now comparatively easy, for the Gipsey 
 was a skilful surgeon, and he fell into a gentle 
 sleep, whilst I watched in a rustic chair, sup- 
 plied by the industrious Martha, with a cushion 
 formed of the same materials as the bed. 
 Martha now showed her talents as a cook, and 
 soon prepared a boiled chicken, to tempt me to 
 eat. I could not refuse her kindness, and in 
 spite of all my troubles, a glow of happiness 
 warmed my heart at her devoted affection. 
 Indeed I had ample reason to bless the Baron's 
 valet, and his opportune liaison with Smith. 
 
 When Leopold returned with an English phy- 
 sician, whom he luckily found at Buda, that gen- 
 tleman approved of what the Gipsey had done ; 
 and when he was compelled to leave us, he re- 
 commended us not to call in any other medical 
 attendant. Seaford, who felt grateful for the 
 relief the woman had afforded him, gladly pro- 
 mised obedience, and I had no will but his.
 
 THE BRIDE. 141 
 
 Accordingly, all that remained was to make 
 ourselves as comfortable as possible in our hum- 
 ble abode, and wealth soon effected such an alter- 
 ation that, after the visit of an upholsterer from 
 Pesth, the old Gipsey, regarded us almost with 
 fear, for she verily believed the change had been 
 worked solely by magic, and that my husband 
 and myself could, if we had pleased to wave our 
 enchanted wands, have transformed the hut into 
 a palace the very moment that we entered it. 
 
 Seaford was naturally impatient, and in spite 
 of his boasted philosophy, he found his slow pro- 
 gress towards convalescence very tedious. I too, 
 entre nous, was beginning to suffer from ennui, 
 when our guardian angel in the form of little 
 Martha reminded us of the MSS. of the strange 
 old man whom we had met at Presburg. We 
 were both delighted at the idea, and Martha 
 bringing me the tales, transcribed in a fair plain 
 hand, I began to read as follows.
 
 THE MYSTIC.
 
 THE MYSTIC. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Behold ! ye pilgrims of this earth, behold '. 
 See all but man with unearn'd pleasure gay ! 
 See her bright rol)€s the butterfly unfold, 
 Broke from her wint'ry tomb, in pride of May, 
 What youthful bride can equal her array ? 
 
 Who can with her for easy pleasure vie ? 
 From mead to mead with gentle wing to stray, 
 
 Is all she hath to do beneath the sky. 
 All can enjoy save man, and man alone : 
 But withering passions turn his heart to stone." 
 
 " Good morrow, Signor Bernardi," said a 
 tall, pale, Italian, to a fat, good-humoured look- 
 ing man, who was standing upon the quay at 
 Trieste, so intently engaged in watching the ap- 
 proach of a richly-laden merchant-vessel, that he 
 did not hear the salutation addressed to him till 
 it had been repeated thrice. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Good morrow, Signor Veroni. I beg your 
 pardon; I declare I did not hear you. The 
 Lord Byron sails well, doesn't she?'' 
 
 " Yes; like her noble namesake, she proudly 
 breasts the waves, and seems determined to rise 
 superior to all oppression." 
 
 " I declare I am glad to see her safe in port. 
 I was afraid those cursed Greeks — " 
 
 "Gently, Signor, if you please: I cannot 
 hear you abuse the Greeks. I have embraced 
 their cause with all my heart and soul, and I am 
 ready to sacrifice both life and fortune, if neces- 
 sary, to aid their glorious struggles for inde- 
 pendence." 
 
 " Struggles for nonsense ! I own I was sur- 
 })rised, Signor, the other day, to hear you, who, 
 in our mercantile transactions have shown your- 
 self a man of sense, talk such stuff. The Greeks 
 are not fit for independence. I know them well, 
 and have bought my knowledge pretty dearly. 
 They are a set of sly, rascally, hypocritical 
 scoundrels, famous for nothing but telling lies 
 and cheating ; two accomplishments in which, to
 
 THE MYSTIC. 
 
 147 
 
 do them justice, I verily believe the devil him- 
 self could not equal them." 
 
 " I am sorry to find a worthy man so preju- 
 diced. Indeed I did not think any one, in these 
 enlightened days, could be found bold enough 
 to assert that the descendants of Solon and Ly- 
 curgus are unfit for independence." 
 
 " There's a specimen of the advantages peo- 
 ple derive from learning. They get hold of a 
 number of fine words, which they do not under- 
 stand the meaning of, and which only serve to 
 cloud their judgments and bewilder their under- 
 standings. I remember, when you were secre- 
 tary to the late Count Mancini — '* 
 
 Veroni frowned. " I am not now a secretary," 
 said he. " Indeed it was only unavoidable mis- 
 fortune which reduced me ever to sully my no- 
 ble blood by accepting so dependent a situation. 
 Though, correctly speaking, my situation could 
 scarcely be called dependent, as the late Count 
 always treated me as a friend, and never under- 
 took any enterprise of importance without con- 
 
 sultin£T me." 
 
 H 2
 
 148 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " People do say that he consulted you rather 
 too often," muttered Bernardi, half aside. Then 
 raising his voice, he continued : *' I really did 
 not mean to offend you, Signor. But to return 
 to the Greeks : I own it does put me in a pas- 
 sion when I hear people going on in a canting 
 strain about them, and stopping my mouth, 
 when I complain of a rascally merchant who has 
 cheated me of three hundred piastres, with a 
 long Fairy- Morgana-story of Leonidas and his 
 Spartans. What the deuce have they to do 
 with the modern Greeks ? You might as well 
 compare the English in the reign of George the 
 Third with their Saxon ancestors, who drank 
 wine out of the sculls of their enemies ; or the 
 aboriginal Britons, who w^ent naked, and burnt 
 men alive for sacrifices." 
 
 " Prejudice is unconquerable." 
 
 " That is very true : however, I cannot stay 
 to reason upon the subject now, for you see the 
 ship has made the port, and I must go and exa- 
 mine her bill of lading." 
 
 " Stay, Bernardi ; 1 liave someting important 
 to communicate to you."
 
 THE MYSTIC. 149 
 
 " It must be another time, then, for business 
 must be attended to. Come this evening to my 
 villa, and over a glass of Chios wine I '11 hear 
 any thing." 
 
 So saying he bustled away, leaving Veroni to 
 slowly perambulate the beach ; and, if he felt 
 inclined, to sigh his regrets for his native coun- 
 try across the gulf that divided him from it. 
 The Adriatic lay sleeping at his feet. 
 
 Calm as an unweaned child ; — 
 
 and the beach was studded with small silvery 
 shells, which looked like fairy gems. Innu- 
 merable sails shone in dazzling brightness on 
 the still bosom of the glassy sea; somd were 
 spread, to woo eagerly the languid breeze, and 
 others hung lazily, as though sleeping upon 
 their masts. Veroni turned impatiently from 
 this scene of calm and tranquil beauty, and 
 looked towards the town. Its spacious quays 
 were crowded with merchants from all parts of 
 the globe, and a busy, bustling hum murmured 
 from its streets. Beyond this rose the splendid 
 villas of the rich burghers, the snowy whiteness 
 of their marble colonnades contrasting vi\idly
 
 150 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 with the clear blue sky, and the verdure of the 
 groves which surrounded them, and clothed the 
 gently sloping hill that lay behind. 
 
 Veroni, however, was insensible to the magic 
 of the prospect. Indeed its very loveliness seemed 
 to mock the war of passions which convulsed 
 his bosom ; and his mind was in a state of such 
 strong, and almost morbid excitement, that he 
 Could not bear to gaze upon a picture of happi- 
 ness. He gazed till he felt maddened at the 
 sight, and involuntarily he gnashed his teeth 
 with rage, as the sea-birds flew by him, now 
 wheeling in the air, and now darting towards 
 the clear, bright water, in pursuit of prey. 
 
 " These creatures are happy," muttered he : 
 " for they are satisfied with their condition ; 
 their bodily wants are fulfilled, and they seek 
 no more. Man, man alone, is cursed with hopes 
 that he cannot define, and desires which he can 
 never gratify. Why are such flital passions 
 implanted in the human breast? Why are 
 mocking fiends permitted to offer to our grasp 
 the blessings that we pant for, and yet to with- 
 draw them at the very moment of fruition ? We
 
 THE MYSTIC. 151 
 
 see, but cannot obtain. Why are our eyes 
 opened, if only to increase our misery? and 
 why are we allowed to fancy glories which we 
 can never reach ? Oh ! that I could be as those 
 birds, satisfied with my lot, and free from the 
 anxious wishes that still torment me : but I was 
 born ambitious; a never-dying rage for great- 
 ness gnaws at my heart, and now that I have 
 perilled soul and body in the cause, it is no 
 longer time to waver — I must go on." 
 
 Wliilst Veroni thus muttered, and paced the 
 beach with hurried steps, he was so absorbed in 
 his own reflections, that he almost ran against a 
 tall, handsome man, who was coming to meet 
 him. 
 
 '' Well, Veroni," said the stranger, smiling, 
 *« you seem lost in meditation. Have you 
 spoken to Bernardi?" 
 
 " He was enoracced ; but I am to see him tnis 
 evening. I had no time this morning to enter 
 upon the subject; but, though he only spoke to 
 me for five minutes, he contrived to mention 
 3'our brother, Count Rodolph." 
 
 "Pshaw!" returned the Count, "keep to
 
 352 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 the present business. Remember, that though 
 I would spare no expense to induce him to take 
 her, you must not offer too much. Bernardi is 
 a cumiing old fox, and would ruin us, if he were 
 to suspect any thing." 
 
 " Do not fear — I will manage him ; but Agnes 
 is so giddy and so obstinate that 1 dread — " 
 
 " Dread nothing from her ; Agnes has strength 
 of mind enough to do any thing, that she sees 
 an adequate motive for, and her gaiety will be 
 a cloak. Besides, she knows nothing which it 
 can seriously injure us to disclose." 
 
 " That is the best security when one would 
 depend upon a woman's secrecy," muttered 
 Veroni; and the friends walked together to- 
 wards the town. 
 
 The villa of Bernardi was situated on the 
 sloping hill before alluded to, and was built in 
 the Italian style, with a deep veranda projecting 
 from its walls, the trellis- work belonging to which 
 was covered with vines, and flowering plants, 
 whose fragrance perfumed the air. Bernardi 
 was a Piedmontese Protestant, who had been 
 driven from his native country by religious per-
 
 THE MYSTIC. 153 
 
 secution, and, with his wife and infant son, had 
 sought refuge at Trieste. His wife did not hve 
 long in exile, and his son being soon after en- 
 tered as a student at Graatz, Bernardi, who was 
 still young, unfortunately for himself, deter- 
 mined to take a second helpmate, and for this 
 purpose he selected the rich heiress of a Frencli 
 *Tew. The lady, who was upon the awful verge 
 of old maidism, when he made her an offer, 
 gladly accepted him ; though, having become a 
 Roman Catholic on the death of her father, she, 
 with the fervour of all new converts, devoutly 
 hated her heretic husband and son-in-law for 
 their religion, almost as soon as the marriage ce- 
 remony was concluded. Bernardi was indiffer- 
 ent to this : he had married her for her wealth : 
 and as he did not find that deceive him, he was 
 satisfied. Indeed, he had good reason to be so, 
 as he employed it so well in his mercantile pur- 
 suits, and it enabled him to make such judicious 
 speculations, that he soon became one of the rich- 
 est men in Trieste. In prosperity, as well as ad- 
 versity, however, Bernardi was always good- 
 humoured, and his physiognomy was an exact 
 H 5
 
 154 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 index to his mind; for every one who saw him 
 felt convinced that his round, rosy face, and little 
 sparkling black eyes, could not belong to an ill- 
 tempered man ; and that his portly figure could 
 only have been nourished by content. Con- 
 tented, indeed, he always was, though the very 
 day of his conference with Veroni he found em- 
 ployment for all his philosophy. The Lord 
 ]3yron had detained him so long with her nu- 
 rous attractions, that he was too late for dinner, 
 and what wife's patience can stand such a test. 
 
 " So, Signor Bernardi," said the enraged lady, 
 the moment her unfortunate husband came 
 vv^ithin earshot, for, like a dutiful and affectionate 
 v^^ife, she was waiting his arrival at the door, 
 '• So, Sir, you are too late, as usual. The din- 
 ner has been waiting full forty minutes ! Yes- 
 terday it was only twenty-nine minutes and a 
 lialf, and the day before sixteen; so you are im- 
 proving rapidly, you see. Will you never aban- 
 don these vile courses? You think to blind me; 
 but I know the cause of your behaviour from the 
 verv bottom. Oh ! I am a miserable woman ! 
 Look at me, base man, and deny it if you can.
 
 THE MYSTIC. loo 
 
 Didn't I see you with my own eyes hand a lady 
 out of your warehouse this very morning, and 
 didn't I hear you say at the same time that you 
 would not come back till she came in ? What 
 she could a virtuous husband be thinking of ex- 
 cepting his own wife ? — his own gentle, constant, 
 and affectionate wife ! I say, I 'm sure you have 
 no business to think of any otlier. However, I 
 watdi you — I see all your baseness. I am close 
 at hand when you don't think it. You have 
 fifty disguises, and I have found you out in all, 
 you inhuman, base, barbarous, cruel, deceitful 
 man ! " 
 
 Here the lady stopped for want of breath ; and 
 Bernardi, shrugging his shoulders, exclaimed, 
 «' Just like the upsetting of a cart of stones, by 
 Jupiter ! " 
 
 " What 's that you say ? " cried the Signora, 
 suddenly checking her tears. *' Am I always to 
 be the butt of your insulting remarks? Am I 
 everlastingly to bear your gibes and sneers r But 
 I won't submit to it — I won't endure it— I 'II 
 sue for a divorce." 
 
 " I wish you would, with all my heart, my
 
 156 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 dear; but, alas ! I 'm afraid that there 's no hope 
 of that ; so I believe we may as well sit down to 
 dinner." 
 
 " No hope ! no hope, indeed ! But you may 
 well say no hope ; for, now I think of it, I am 
 determined to live with you, if it 's only to tor- 
 ment you." 
 
 With this dutiful resolution Signora Bernard! 
 led the way to the dining-room. 
 
 " I never saw such a man in my life," said 
 she, after sitting some time in silent sulkiness, 
 whilst her husband ate heartily of every thing be- 
 fore him ; " you never seem vexed at any thing." 
 
 " Why should I ? When I am prosperous I 
 have no reason to be sad ; and when I am un- 
 lucky, I have more need to keep up my spirits." 
 
 " You are the most provoking, barbarous, 
 cruel " 
 
 " Eat something, my dear. Depend upon it, 
 ^lis not wholesome to quarrel fasting. After 
 dinner we shall be all alive, and I shall be able 
 to give your little interesting remarks all the at- 
 tention they deserve: at present my head is 
 quite full of soup and ragouts ; to say nothing of
 
 THE IMYSTIC. 157 
 
 that excellent dish of sour krout, which could 
 not have been better if it had been dressed for 
 the table of the Emperor himself." 
 
 " Infamous ! Am I to be made a jest of? '^ 
 
 " By no means, mia carissima. I never was 
 more in earnest in my life. A good dinner is a 
 very good thing, let me tell you ; and when it is 
 moistened with good wine " 
 
 The Signora could bear no more. She 
 snatched the glass out of her husband's hands, 
 and dashed the contents in his face, breaking a 
 small bottle, which stood by his plate of liqueur, 
 en passant. 
 
 " Socrates and Xantippe, " said Bernardi, 
 coolly wiping his forehead, and his clothes, 
 which were deluged with the costly liqueur. 
 " This LachrymcB Christi is very sticky." 
 
 " Signor Bernardi, you will drive me mad." 
 
 " It would be difficult, I think, to make you 
 worse than you are already, my dear." 
 
 " My servants complain of my temper, but 
 they little know the provocations I have to un- 
 dergo/' 
 
 " As to your servants, my love, I am only sur- 
 prised that you can ever get any to live with you."
 
 158 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 '"' I never find fault without occasion." 
 
 " Indeed, my dear, you wrong yourself, for I 
 verily believe you generally scold only to keep 
 your grondatory organs in order: indeed, people 
 do say, that you storm at the chairs and tables 
 when there is nobody at home but yourself" 
 
 Signora Bernardi could not endure this, and 
 she flew out of the room, almost overturning 
 Veroni, whom she encountered at the doer. 
 
 " You must certainly be in love, Signor," said 
 Bernardi, smiling, " for you are at least two 
 hours sooner than I expected." 
 
 " And is love the only thing that you think 
 can inspire extraordinary expedition ? " 
 
 " It is generally reckoned so. Indeed, I re- 
 member when I was in love myself." — 
 
 " With your present wife ? " 
 
 " Oh ! no, poor creature ! I certainly never 
 was in love with her. She 's an antidote to love. 
 We had just been having a breeze when you 
 came in. She is a perfect Xantippe." 
 
 " I know it, and only wonder how you can 
 endure such a domestic torment. She would drive 
 me distracted. Why don't you get divorced ? "
 
 THE MYSTIC. 159 
 
 *' 1 do think of it sometimes ; but I owe the 
 old woman some gratitude, for it was the use of 
 her fortune that has made me what I am. Be- 
 sides, I 'm used to her ; and I really think 1 
 should feel quite lonely if I did not hear the 
 music of her sweet voice. Hark ! she is now 
 coiTecting the servants in a tone several degrees 
 higher than that of a Turkish mollah calling the 
 hour of prayers from a minaret.'' 
 
 " 1 have heard of a retired drummer who 
 could not live without the sound of his drum ; 
 and who, when rendered incapable by age, used 
 to hire a person to beat it to him. So I am not 
 much surprised at what you say. However, we 
 will now, if you please, leave the Signora in 
 peace." 
 
 '• Not in peace.'* 
 
 "In war, then — colloquial war, at any rate. 
 YoLi have just mentioned the Turks, and by so 
 doing have reminded me of the subject upon 
 which I wish to speak to you ; upon which, in- 
 deed, I wish to consult you." 
 
 " I hope to God you don't want me to join the 
 Greeks ; if you do, I tell you beforehand, that I
 
 160 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 will have nothing to do with them. Let the 
 rich English fill their newspapers with their 
 subscriptions, or rather with the amount of the 
 sums which they say they have subscribed (for I 
 have never heard of the money anywhere but in 
 their newspapers) ; and let their disbanded sol- 
 diers and patriotic lords fly to the relief of the 
 Greek pirates, if they like — I have no objection. 
 It is all very well if they have nothing better to 
 do, and it may keep them out of mischief at 
 home. Nay, I give them leave, if they have a 
 mind, to preach on the subject in their Houses 
 of Parliament whenever they have nothing more 
 important to talk about. It is a pretty subject 
 for oratory ; as a man may show his learning in 
 prating of the ancient Greeks, and his ingenuity 
 in finding some good qualities in the modern ones 
 (for he must be ingenious, if he really does find 
 any), all which sounds well in declamation : but 
 it would be absolute madness for a sober-minded 
 citizen such as I am, to trouble my head about 
 their quarrel, particularly as I have had a peep 
 behind the scenes, and know what they are all 
 about. I should be as mad as Don Quixote,
 
 THE MYSTIC. 161 
 
 when he cut off the Emperor's head in the pup- 
 pet-show. Indeed, it is my firm opinion that 
 the Greeks cannot be made independent ; and 
 that if you take them from the Turks, it will be 
 only to throw them into the hands of some other 
 nation. Their minds are so thoroughly debased 
 that they can not be enlightened." 
 
 " You are unreasonable Signor, if you com- 
 plain that the Greeks have acquired the vices 
 of slavery ; and yet wish them to remain qui- 
 escent under their oppressors. I allow that 
 they are cunning and deceitful, for tyranny has 
 made them so; but, if you remove the cause, 
 the effect will vanish also. Give the Greeks 
 freedom, and they will become worthy of being 
 free men." 
 
 " Not this generation, I fancy. When men 
 have been once degraded, and their minds bru- 
 talized, nothing short of an enchanter's wand 
 can restore their proper tone. Your theory 
 sounds very well, yet still it is only a theory. 
 It is easy to say remove the cause, and the ef- 
 fect will follow, but every day's experience con- 
 tradicts the fact ; for every day we see effects
 
 162 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 continue long after the original causes for them 
 have ceased. Only fancy the situation of the 
 Greeks if the Turkish power were overthrown. 
 What would they do with their freedom ? They 
 have been so long instruments in the hands of 
 others, that they are incapable of governing 
 themselves; petty jealousies, fruitless struggles, 
 and unmeaning plots, would occupy their whole 
 time. They have been so long used to 
 scheming, that it has become as necessary to 
 them as their daily food ; and, for want of ty- 
 rants to plot against, they would intrigue among 
 themselves. Whilst they were thus occupied, 
 the first foreign power, who thought them worth 
 seizing, might step in, making his ground good, 
 whilst they were debating who should be their 
 leader to oppose him ; mutual jealousies would 
 paralyze their efforts, (and, by the way, the 
 Greeks at best are poor soldiers;) and, presto, 
 they would again be slaves, with no other result 
 from their short-lived freedom, than that of 
 having changed their masters ; and, like the f6x 
 in the fable, got a fresh set of flies to suck them." 
 " It is useless attempting to argue with you,
 
 THE MYSTIC. 163 
 
 but / think that the elastic spirit of the Greeks, 
 though for a while it may be depressed, will, 
 like the palm-tree of the desert, only fly back 
 with more vigour, when its unnatural restraint 
 shall be removed." 
 
 " I know where you learnt that simile. The 
 Count your late master — but, I beg your par- 
 don, I had forgotten that was a tender subject." 
 Veroni's brow grew dark as night. " It was 
 not to talk of my late friejid the Count Mancini 
 that I came here. I am about to join the 
 Greeks, Signor Bernardi, and for this purpose I 
 have arranged all my affairs, save one — " 
 
 He paused. Bernardi did not speak, as he 
 waited for his companion to proceed. A silence 
 of considerable length ensued, during which 
 Veroni nearly filled his tumbler with wine, and 
 drank it off hastily. He was evidently endea- 
 vouring to assume a composure which he did 
 not feel. At length he spoke. 
 
 " I beUeve you are an honest man, Bernardi." 
 
 " I hope so." 
 
 " And a discreet one."
 
 164 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Of that I am not quite so certain." 
 
 " I have a daughter." 
 
 " A daughter ! I did not before know you 
 had been married," said Bernardi, drily. 
 
 " It is a long story," returned his guest, in a 
 hurried manner, gulping down more wine. " I 
 have not time to tell it now. Suffice it to say, 
 that I have a daughter, and that when I go to 
 Greece, I know not what I shall do with her. 
 Will you take her under your charge? She 
 shall have a handsome pension." 
 
 " I do not know what to say to it. How old 
 is she? 
 
 " Fifteen, and as beautiful as an angel." 
 
 " My dear fellow, do you know what you are 
 asking ? My wife is a very devil for jealousy ; 
 and jealous wives have very seldom any penchant 
 for beautiful angels of fifteen ; besides which, you 
 know I have a son, tall, melancholy, and ro- 
 mantic ; just the thing for a hero, who delights in 
 writing sonnets to the moon, and passes half his 
 time in fits of abstraction. He is sure to fall in 
 love with her, even if I do not. So, you see, she 
 is likely to make a pretty commotion in the fa-
 
 THE MYSTIC. 165 
 
 mily ! Ernest, indeed, will be very likely to 
 run away with her." 
 
 " I must brave it all," said Veroni, smiling. 
 " Nay, I think, I ought to be glad if such were 
 to be the result. You are rich, Bernard!, and 
 I could give my daughter something handsome ; 
 so, perhaps, neither might do better. Besides 
 which, a motherless girl is always much better 
 married than single, and I diink your son would 
 make her a good husband. I was much pleased 
 with him the last time I was at the villa." 
 
 " Aye, aye, when he was talking so enthusi- 
 astically about the Greeks. The fellow is an 
 enthusiast in every thing, and he had got hold 
 of some nonsencical notions about liberty and 
 freedom, and emancipation, which he did not 
 understand, and so, of course, contrived to talk 
 fluently of. Depend upon it orators should 
 never think of what they are saying; as long as 
 they confine themselves to words they will do 
 very well, but ideas are ticklish things to meddle 
 with, and, as soon as they begin to tnink, they 
 begin to flounder." 
 
 Veroni laughed. " With such notions you
 
 166 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 ought to turn professor of rhetoric. You would 
 find plenty of scholars." 
 
 « I am afraid not, for most orators practise 
 my art without teaching. By the way, I think, 
 you never saw my son before ; he is but just re- 
 turned from the University at Graatz. He's a 
 fine youth, isn't he ? Not like one of the wild 
 Biirchen of Leipsic or Jena ; but a prudent, 
 sensible, good-hearted young man, who will 
 make a good citizen, and a respectable master 
 of a family." 
 
 " I do not doubt it in the least ; how could 
 he be otherwise with such a father ? I hope 
 Agnes may please him ; and, if she should, as I 
 said before, I shall not object to their union ; 
 nor need you, for her portion will be consi- 
 derable." 
 
 " Well, as you do not fear my son, I believe 
 I must run the risk of falling in love with her 
 myself, and so agree to your proposal." 
 
 " But the Signora Bernardi, will she ap- 
 prove ? " 
 
 " Oh she must bear it as well as she can ; 
 and even if she should fume like a half extin-
 
 THE MYSTIC. 167 
 
 guished volcano, I am not sure that I shall not 
 enjoy the fun.'* 
 
 A silence ensued, during which both parties 
 appeared entirely occupied with their own 
 thouglits. 
 
 " You will find my daughter quite a child," 
 said Veroni ; " she knows nothing of the world." 
 
 " So much the better : I like natural charac- 
 ters. The fine ladies of the present day have 
 so much parade and nonsense about them, they 
 are quite intolerable. I can't endure them." 
 
 Another pause. 
 
 " Where is the young lady ?" asked Bernardi. 
 
 " At Trieste, I hope, by this time; but she 
 has been at a school in Paris since she was five 
 years old, till within this last month." 
 
 And, as he spoke, Veroni, in a bungling at- 
 tempt to hide his confusion, began to pour out 
 some coffee which had been left on the table, 
 when the enraged Signora, after sipping half a 
 cup, and a glass of liqueur, had vanished in a 
 rage. 
 
 " What are you doing?" cried Bernardi, «•' it 
 is quite cold. Shall I order some fresh ? "
 
 168 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " No, no, thank you, I was thinking of some- 
 ihin^^ else. I am afraid you will find my poor 
 girl very giddy, Bernardi." 
 
 " Oh ! we shall make allowances." 
 
 After sitting a short time longer, lost in a 
 profound reverie, Veroni rose abruptly, and 
 took his leave. 
 
 " What can the man mean?" thought Ber-» 
 nardi. " I suppose the girl is illegitimate ; but 
 what of that, she is not the first, and I dare say 
 she will not be the last." 
 
 With this philosophic reflection Signor Ber- 
 nardi went to break the matter to his wife. He 
 found her much more tractable than he had ex- 
 pected. Avarice, next to jealousy, was her pre- 
 dominating passion, and though she had every 
 thing that she could even fancy she wanted, the 
 prospect of a handsome addition to her income, 
 would have reconciled her to the intrusion of a 
 whole boarding-school of misses. 
 
 " I shall quite enjoy the young lady's society," 
 said she ; " and no doubt we shall soon become 
 warmly attached to each other."
 
 THE MYSTIC. 169 
 
 " Humph ! " replied Bernard!, shrugging his 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Then my wish to obhge you " 
 
 " Humph ! " 
 
 " And the pleasure of forming the manners 
 and polishing the taste of an unsophisticated 
 innocent." 
 
 " My dear, one of the sages of old said, ' it 
 was possible to say too much even of a good 
 thing,' and I am quite of his opinion." 
 
 " You are a perfect brute." 
 
 " Thank you, my love." And the matrimo- 
 nial dialogue was at an end. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 110 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Not moulded for the selfish world ; 
 
 Too lofty, and too full of heavenly fire, 
 E'er to be measured by ungifted minds, 
 Whom glory hath not raised. 
 
 Robert Montgomery. 
 
 Bernardi's family were all assembled in their 
 usual sitting-room the following morning, anxi- 
 ously expecting thearrivalof their new inmate, and 
 speculating on the appearance and manners she 
 might possess. The ideas of each were different 
 upon this subject, and the Signora had pictured 
 to herself a school-girl, whom she fancied she 
 might direct as she pleased. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Veroni will be quite a trea- 
 sure to me in the way of work I expect," said 
 she, uttering her thoughts involuntarily aloud : 
 "all the French girls embroider lace beauti- 
 fully, and I have some lovely English net."
 
 THE MYSTIC. 171 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " cried Bernard!, " you 
 cannot surely suppose that a young lady, who 
 pays handomely for her board, will work for 
 you as a sempstress ? " 
 
 " And why not ? Young people ought never 
 to be unemployed, as I tell my maids. Your 
 son, there, would be much better doing some- 
 thing, than sitting idling away his time with his 
 eyes fixed upwards, like an Indian fakir, or an 
 English quaker. I wonder you don't take him 
 into your counting-house, and make him useful. 
 It was bad enough when he had always a book 
 in his hand, but it is worse now, for even read- 
 ing was better than doing nothing. Mark my 
 word, he'll come to no good." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Bernardi, " you are talking 
 of what you don't nnderstand; but that's always 
 the way with women. I didn't send Ernest to 
 the university, and give him the education he 
 has had, to make a drudge of him when I had 
 done. No, no, he shall never be stuck behind 
 a desk ; there are drudges enough in the w^orld 
 without him ; but talents are rare, and as Ernest 
 possesses these, it has been my maxim that they 
 I 2
 
 172 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 should be cultivated, and so they shall be; I 
 have got a fortune, and my son shall know how 
 to spend one. Please God, he shall far outshine 
 his old father, and cut a figure in the world. I 
 only pray that I may live to see it, and then I 
 shall die happy." 
 
 As he spoke, father Raphael, the Signora's 
 confessor, walked into the room. The worthy 
 monk always contriving to time his visits so well, 
 that go where he would he was asked to dinner ; 
 an obligation which he fancied he repaid amply 
 by giving his advice in the temporal affairs of his 
 penitents, as well as their spiritual ones. 
 
 '= Benedicite^^' said he, as he entered. 
 
 *' Is not my husband in the wrong?" ex- 
 claimed the Signora, appealing to him, eagerly, 
 *Ho let Ernest pass his time in idleness; and 
 isn't he to blame to wish him to be a better man 
 than himself? He has always done well." 
 
 ** But I want my son to do better than well," 
 said Bernardi. " My want of education has al- 
 ways been a millstone roimd my neck that has 
 kept me from rising, and I was determined that 
 Ernest should have no impediment like that to
 
 THE MYSTIC. 173 
 
 keep him down. Thank God, he's no lack of 
 learning, he can speak, and well too ; it warmed 
 my heart to hear him the other day about the 
 Greeks. There was eloquence ! I saw Signor 
 Veroni look quite astonished." 
 
 " Yes, and so did our old friend Albert last 
 week ; when Ernest started up like a madman, 
 and seized the lamp for a torch, to show how 
 some hero set a city all in a blaze ! I'm sure, for 
 my part, I expect he'll set the house on fire 
 some day ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! It is only the youthful enthusi- 
 asm of genius; he'll get cooler as he gets older, 
 and depend upon it he'll be the pride of his 
 family ; he'll be a great man." 
 
 " Don't set your heart upon it ; I never knew 
 any good come of idleness." 
 
 During this dialogue poor father Raphael 
 looked first at one, and then at the other party, 
 not daring to join either, lest he should offend 
 the other, and he took advantage of the first 
 pause to ask the Signor how much he expected 
 to clear by his lately arrived vessel. This was 
 a theme agreeable to both parties, as the Sig-
 
 174 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 nora liked to hear of her husband's riches as 
 much as he liked to talk of them, and thus both 
 were amused, and the poor father extricated 
 from his dilemma. 
 
 The whole conversation was quite thrown 
 away on Ernest, for he was so absorbed in me- 
 ditation that he was not even aware that any 
 one had spoken. Ernest was the creature of 
 romance; and, wrapt up in the wild and abstract 
 ideas of German philosophy, his life had hi- 
 therto passed as a dream. At the university, his 
 books were his sole companions, and at home 
 he might be said to live alone, for he had not 
 a single thought in common with any of the 
 persons he associated with. Thus, shut out 
 from society, he passed his whole time in fancy- 
 ing visions, which every day seemed to acquire 
 greater intensity. A thousand forms of ideal 
 beauty floated before his eyes, which he gazed 
 upon till he almost forgot that they were delu- 
 sions, and raised by this fancied communion 
 with supernatural beings, it is not surprising 
 that he found the common-place affairs of life 
 dull and uninteresting. He was now musing
 
 THE MYSTIC. 175 
 
 upon what he had heard of Agnes, and had 
 already determined that she must be the kin- 
 dred spirit ordained to be linked with his. "She 
 is mine," thought he, "a part of my being! 
 An emanation from my sun ! Destined to unite 
 with mine before creation her spu*it doubtless 
 pants with the same impatience as my own. 
 Already the invisible charms of sympathy are 
 drawing us closely together. Would that the 
 hour were arrived, and we had met. Had met^ 
 oh that the awful meeting were passed ! How 
 shall I conquer my emotion ? " 
 
 In short, Ernest was violently in love with the 
 creature his own imagination had conjured up, 
 and which he chose to fancy must resemble Ag- 
 nes. He had long delighted to picture to him- 
 self an ideal beauty whom he could adore, for 
 a romantic youth like Ernest could not fail to 
 be in love ; but till now his dulcinea had been 
 purely imaginary. No stretch of fancy could 
 possibly invest the stiff reserved daughters of 
 the rich burghers of Trieste with the charms of 
 heroines of romance, and as yet our hero had 
 seen no other beauties. Agnes' story was myste-
 
 176 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 rious, her age interesting, and her beauty, from 
 what he heard, angelic. What more could he 
 desire ? Nothing ; all the materials were at 
 hand, and when mingled together, he formed 
 from them a splendid picture which was being 
 heightened every instant. The distant sound 
 of wheels. Interrupted his meditations ; he lis- 
 tened ; the noise became louder, and his heart 
 throbbed violently. 
 
 " There they are, I declare," said the Sig- 
 nora, as a travelling carriage rapidly approached 
 the villa. 
 
 " Then your doubts will soon be satisfied as 
 to the young Lady's working capabilities," re- 
 marked her husband. " She is very handsome," 
 continued he, after a short pause ; " she has a 
 beautiful profile." 
 
 " Thanks be to the blessed virgin if she 's a 
 Catholic," said father Raphael. 
 
 " Bravo, father !" cried Bernardi; " I admire 
 your taste, and think you are quite right to wish 
 such a pretty penitent. 
 
 " The devil often makes use of beauty as an 
 allurement to sin," began the father, " and for
 
 THE MYSTIC. 177 
 
 tliat reason " but ere he could explain his 
 
 reason, or Bernardi utter a joke in reply, the 
 carriage stopped, and the Signor was obliged 
 to hurry to the door to receive his guests. Er- 
 nest's heart beat quick ; the moment was come ; 
 she was arrived ; she, wlio might rule all the hap- 
 piness of his future life. How should he meet 
 her ? perhaps her sensitive nature would shrink 
 with horror from a stranger ; how should he 
 overcome her diffidence ? Lost in these musings, 
 his limbs trembled, and a film overspread his 
 eyes as the door opened, and Veroni entered, 
 leading in, not a child, such iis had formed tiie 
 subject of the Signora's calculations, or a soft, 
 pensive beauty, such as had been pictured by 
 Ernest, but a tall, fine, womanly girl, with a 
 form as graceful as that of an antelope, and an 
 eye of fire, which spoke impatience of controul. 
 The Signora looked aghast, and the fairy visions 
 in which she had been indulging, fell like an in- 
 fant's house of cards, for she saw at one glance 
 that Agnes would be no patient net-embroi- 
 deress, and she trembled lest she should become 
 a rival. Nay, for a moment, a dark suspicion 
 I 5
 
 178 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 crossed her mind, that Bernardi's story respect- 
 ing Veroni was a fiction, and that Agnes was 
 in fact, a mistress in disguise. 
 
 These feelings gave such an awkwardness to 
 the Signora's manner of greeting her young 
 guest, that Agnes could scarcely restrain a smile; 
 whilst Bernardi, who saw his wife's embarrass- 
 ment, could not divine its cause. 
 
 " My dear,'' said he, " what can be the mat- 
 ter with you ? you don't seem well." 
 
 " You are always fancying something, Sig- 
 nor," returned the lady, indignantly ; " I never 
 do anything well in your eyes ; but no one else 
 sees any difference." 
 
 Agnes shrugged her shoulders, and the comic 
 look which she gave Veroni, showed that she 
 fully entered into, and enjoyed the character of 
 her hostess. " My dear madam," said she, " 1 
 cannot imagine why the worthy Signor should 
 think you indisposed, you seem to me health 
 personified; a blooming Hebe in a mortal's 
 frame." 
 
 The Signora received this amende honorable 
 with a gracious smile, which however gave such
 
 THE MYSTIC. 1^9 
 
 an unhebelike expression to her countenance, 
 that even Veroni could hardly forbear laughing. 
 He shook his head, however, at Agnes, and laid 
 his finger on his lips, whilst her laughing eyes 
 showed that though she understood, she disre- 
 garded his injunction. Ernest saw the whole of 
 this bye-play with unqualified disgust. He had 
 been disappointed in the appearance of Agnes ; 
 for, though beautiful, she was not the kind oi" 
 beauty he expected. She was too gay; and, 
 though slight, she looked too robust. This, how- 
 ever, was a mere point of taste, but he felt in- 
 dignant at her levity ; and when he was pre- 
 sented to her, he could scarcely controul his 
 feelings sufficiently to behave with common po- 
 liteness. Agnes saw his awkwardness, and 
 seemed inclined to laugh at it : this completed 
 his anger, and he rushed out of the room in a 
 paroxysm of anger and mortification. 
 
 It is scarcely possible for any one, not a Ger- 
 man student, to figure to himself the visionary 
 state of mind produced by a long continuance 
 of abstract studies. The human faculties will 
 only bear a certain degree of cultivation, beyond
 
 180 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 which all is vague ; and, if the attention be kept 
 too long exclusively directed to one point, the 
 mind, injured by the unnatural tension, be- 
 comes diseased and incapable of exercising its 
 healthy functions. The judgment is clouded, 
 the imagination is too strongly excited, and the 
 reason eventually destroyed. 
 
 At that time, the doctrines of Kant, or rather 
 those of the followers of Kant, occupied the 
 attention of all Germany. Though the philo- 
 sopher himself professed to despise metaphysics 
 yet as they were the tools with which he worked, 
 many of his disciples, not having power to pene- 
 trate to his depth, went no further than to en- 
 tangle themselves in those dangerous subtleties ; 
 for studying metaphysics is something like wan- 
 dering at night in a pathless wood ; it requires a 
 strong mind, and steady nerves, to be heedless of 
 the briars which obstruct the path, and to keep 
 the attention firmly fixed upon the bright stars 
 which shine above. It was as great a mistake 
 to confound metaphysics with the philosophy 
 of Kant, as it would have been to identify the 
 materials of which a picture is composed, with
 
 THE MYSTIC. 181 
 
 the work itself; yet the students were not aware 
 of this ; they seized the palette and brushes of 
 their master, and fancied they had caught his 
 spirit. Never w^as there a more complete de- 
 lusion. Kant delighted in obscure language 
 and abstruse ideas; his followers out-kanted 
 Kant; imitators always copy defects rather than 
 perfections, as they are easier to attain ; and they 
 invariably exaggerate their model. Thus the 
 ideas of the Kantites (generally speaking), be- 
 came so sublime as to be quite unintelligible, 
 not only to others, but themselves ; their notions 
 of right and wrong grew confused ; their elo- 
 quence degenerated into nonsense, and as they 
 were intoxicated with fine words, which meant 
 nothing, their language and actions became like 
 those of persons labouring under delirium. 
 
 There was one doctrine of Kant which was 
 particularly subject to misapplication. This 
 was, that actions should be estimated only by 
 their motives, not by their success. A very 
 little variation led to the dangerous dogma, that 
 the means, be they what they might, were jus- 
 tified by the end which was in view ; or, in other
 
 182 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 words, that it was sometimes meritorious to do 
 evil in order to produce good: — a principle 
 which saps the very foundation of morality, as 
 it makes a man's own feelings the sole directors 
 of his conduct, and how few are there who are 
 capable of j udging in their own cause. Fatal 
 consequences have ensued from this delusion. 
 Poor Kotzebue was one, but by no means its 
 only, victim. Sandt was not a wicked man ; 
 nay, more, his intentions were good ; but he was 
 bewildered by sophistry, and he mistook the 
 violence of his passions for a divine impulse. 
 The idea of sacrificing the opinion of the world, 
 and appearing bad when influenced by the most 
 sublime virtue, has something in its very extra- 
 vagance, peculiarly attractive to persons of a 
 noble and generous disposition ; for such cha- 
 racters, in order to show their scorn for all sor- 
 did considerations, seek eagerly for opportuni- 
 ties to manifest their self abandonment and self- 
 devotion. Their virtue is too fervent to be 
 satisfied with remaining passive, and they have 
 an exuberance of energy, which, if not employed, 
 preys upon itself.
 
 THE MYSTIC. 183 
 
 Tliis state of feeling had spread through all 
 the universities of Germany. The dam of pre- 
 judice had been broken do\vn, and human in- 
 tellect, emancipated from restraint, resembled 
 a vast river flowing over a plain in which no 
 channels had as yet been cut to receive it. The 
 stream might in the end fertihze the soil, but 
 its influx had swept every thing before it. INIuch 
 that was valuable had been entirely destroyed, 
 and though some treasures still floated on the 
 surface, they had no longer any stable founda- 
 tion, but were blown about at the mercy of 
 every wind. 
 
 Latterly a political tone had been given to 
 the mysticism of the students, and visions of Uto- 
 pian kingdoms had been raised before their eyes. 
 They were taught, that a state of regeneration 
 was fast approaching, when all mankind were to 
 be good, and to be happy. They were to be 
 free, for they were to have acquired such a 
 pitch of perfection that no laws would be re- 
 quired to restrain them ; and they were to have 
 no religion, for the abstract love of virtue was to 
 be sufl&cient to prevent them from ever doing 
 any thing wrong !
 
 184 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 It was a grand feature in their doctrinesj that 
 noble spirits were not to be influenced either by 
 the fear of punishment or the hope of reward ; 
 and that they were to do good solely from this ab- 
 stract love of virtue, which was to be the guide of 
 all their actions. All self-gratifications were pro- 
 nounced criminal; if a man took pleasure in 
 charity, he had no merit in bestowing alms ; 
 and if he was naturally brave, he deserved no 
 praise for doing his duty as a soldier, as he 
 ought to have given and fought only for the ab- 
 stract love of virtue, and not for the gratification 
 of his own mind. What this abstract love of 
 virtue really was, however, it vvoidd have puz- 
 zled the philosophers to define, but as it made 
 an euphonous phrase, it consequently did very 
 well to talk about ; and the students were not so 
 unreasonable as to expect more.
 
 THE MYSTIC. 185 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Spirit of Love ! soon thy rose-plurues wear 
 The weight and the sully of canker and care ; 
 But one bright moment is all thine own, 
 The one ere thy visible presence is known ! 
 
 L. E. L. 
 
 When Ernest had so abruptly rushed from 
 the presence of Agnes, he almost involuntarily 
 flew to a wood at some distance from the villa, 
 which, from its quiet and secluded situation and 
 romantic beauty, was generally the favourite 
 scene of his meditations. But now his feelingrs 
 
 o 
 
 were different to any with which he had before 
 visited it ; and instead of the soft dreamy kind 
 of calm which usually pervaded his soul, he 
 found his whole bosom convulsed with a storm 
 of wild tumultuous passions, such as he had never 
 before experienced. He could not analyze his 
 own feelings; he was angry with Agnes, with
 
 186 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 himself, and with all the world, and yet he had 
 nothing to complain of. 
 
 " Of what consequence can it be to me," 
 thought he, " whether Agnes liked me or 
 laughed at me ? I do not care about the girl ; 
 only, as she really is handsome, it is provoking 
 to find that she has no soul. Had it been other- 
 wise, what a companion she would have been to 
 me; and how much I should have been de- 
 lighted to know, that one being, at least, was near 
 me who could comprehend my feelings ! Alas ! 
 it is but a dream that I indulge in, when I fancy 
 that such a being exists. I am alone ; an outcast 
 from my kind ; a creature with whom no living 
 thing has sympathy ! " 
 
 He had now penetrated into the thickest part 
 of the forest, and had reached a spot of green 
 turf, round which trees of the most varied fo- 
 liage reared high their massive heads, inter- 
 lacing their branches till they seemed to form 
 a verdant temple, 
 
 " Far more vast and grand ■ 
 
 Than all the vaunted labours wrought by raan." 
 
 Myrtle and orange blossoms filled the air with
 
 THE MYSTIC. IST 
 
 perfume, the light acacia mingled with the 
 broad-leaved fig, and the flowering palm-laurel 
 rose beside the tall dark cypress, which, towering 
 above the rest in gloomy gi'andeur, looked like 
 a conquered chieftain lamenting in sullen dig- 
 nity the downfall of his race. Ernest threw 
 himself at the foot of this giant of the grove, but 
 no visions floated before his fancy as of yore ; 
 he could now think only of Agnes and her pro- 
 voking smile. 
 
 " She does not know me," thought he. " She 
 would not laugh if she knew what I am capable 
 of. However, the day may come, when, after 
 I have performed some splendid deeds of hero- 
 ism, she shall hear the shouts of triumph that 
 attend my footsteps, and she shall find that 
 whole nations idolize my name. She will then 
 repent, and perhaps sue for protection by my 
 hand." 
 
 He was pleased with this idea, and immediately 
 began to picture to himself, Agnes sueing at his 
 feet in the guise of a captive princess, whilst he, 
 generously forgiving her former conduct, deter- 
 mined to restore her to her throne. What
 
 188 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 heroic deeds he was to perform to effect this ! 
 His imagination now had full play, and the 
 scenes he fancied, acquired all the force of reality. 
 Tyrants trembled at his name, and whole armies 
 fled at his approach; whilst he, though con- 
 quering every one he encountered, treated his 
 captives with so much nobleness and humanity, 
 that love mingled with their fear. All his ac- 
 tions were founded on the most exalted virtue ; 
 though it was virtue strained to such a pitch of 
 extravagance, as to become folly, nay, almost 
 vice ; and it was not till he had fancied a series 
 of deeds, which, in the opinion of any sober- 
 minded person, would have justified the suing 
 out of a commission of lunacy, that he conde- 
 scended to let Agnes resume her throne. Then 
 came his most brilliant triumph. Of course she, 
 by all the laws of chivalry, was bound to offer 
 him her hand ; but he refused it with contempt. 
 
 " No," said he, aloud, ".the possession of a 
 kingdom has no charms for me, and I would 
 scorn even an Empress, unless she possessed a 
 soul." 
 
 As he thus cruelly annihilated the hopes of
 
 THE MYSTIC. 189 
 
 the unfortunate Agnes, he chanced accidentally 
 to raise his eyes, and saw, to his inexpressible 
 confusion, that a tall handsome man, in a Polish 
 dress, was standing opposite to him, gazing ear- 
 nestly upon his countenance, which, of course, 
 had varied with every different emotion that he 
 had felt. Ernest now blushed the deepest crim- 
 son, and springing upon his feet, stood hanging 
 down his head, and totally unable to utter a 
 single syllable. 
 
 The stranger evidently had some difficulty to 
 avoid laughing. " How is this," said he : " Can 
 he, who but a few minutes since, was mowing 
 do/vn whole armies, now stand abashed before 
 an unarmed man ? " 
 
 Ernest did not like this raillery ; however, it 
 restored his self possession, and he replied, al- 
 most fiercely, " If my dreams were realized, my 
 courage will not be found wanting." 
 
 " It is a pity that such an heroic youth should 
 not be a soldier instead of a student," resumed 
 the stranger, scrutinizing his countenance atten- 
 tively. 
 
 " Oh that I were a soldier ! " cried Ernest ;
 
 190 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " not a hireling, selling his blood for paltry 
 gold ; but engaged in a cause which roused all 
 the energy of my mind, and for which I would 
 willingly perish both body and soul." 
 
 " Are you in earnest ? " 
 
 " Earnest ! Oh God ! can any one ask me such 
 a question ? I, whose faculties are always com- 
 pletely absorbed in the feeling of the moment. I, 
 who cannot read, speak, orwrite, without being so 
 entirely engrossed with the subject that occupies 
 me, as to be unconscious of every thing that is pass- 
 ing around me. Yes ; I am in earnest. Would to 
 heaven that I were called upon to act ; the world 
 should then see that I am not a mere declaimer." 
 
 " Are you capable of sacrificing your own in- 
 terest to that of your country?" 
 
 Ernest's eyes flashed fire. This was indeed 
 attacking him on tender ground ; for all his 
 dreams were founded on the idea that it was 
 meritorious to make sacrifices, and according to 
 his most uncomfortable code of morality, a good 
 man ought to live in a state of constant misery, 
 as his virtue compelled him to relinquish every 
 thing that he felt inclined to. The stranger's
 
 THE MYSTIC. 191 
 
 question accordingly went to his inmost soul, and 
 in a firm voice he replied, emphatically, " I am.'* 
 
 " Then wait patiently ; for a few months will 
 decide your fate. You know me not ; yet our 
 destinies are inseparably connected. You are 
 he, whom I was sent to seek. A mighty enter- 
 prize waits only for your aid ; but the moment 
 is not yet come ; we shall soon meet again, and 
 all shall be revealed ; till then be patient." 
 
 So saying, the stranger plunged into the 
 thicket, and instantly disappeared. Ernest never 
 thought of following him. He stood like one 
 entranced, his eyes fixed upon the spot where 
 the stranger had been, and his mind completely 
 occupied with what had just past. Never be- 
 fore had his curiosity been so strongly excited, 
 for though he had often in his day-dreams fan- 
 cied himself the hero of adventures quite as wild 
 and improbable, he had never till now, met with 
 any thing that at all realized his fancies. The 
 striking appearance of the stranger, and the 
 mystery which hung over him, possessed inde- 
 scribable charms for his heated imagination, and 
 he had soon arranged a tale of infinite horror
 
 192 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 and distress, of which the stranger was the vic- 
 tim, and he the avenger. Of course his new ac- 
 quaintance was to be a model of the sublimest 
 virtue, the most heroic patience, and the most 
 unmerited suffering, and he was to be cruelly 
 oppressed by a remorseless tyrant from whom 
 Ernest was to deliver him. The stranger's gra- 
 titude would not fail to be unbounded ; and as 
 he was to turn out a monarch in disguise, he 
 could not in common decency do otherwise than 
 present Ernest to his people as his liberator, 
 when shouts of triumph must fill the skies, and 
 Agnes would look upon the hero with awe, as- 
 tonishment, and admiration. 
 
 " At length my hopes will be realized," cried 
 he, aloud ; " I am destined to a high adventure. 
 Appear again, mysterious messenger. Declare 
 my fate, and behold me ready to fulfil it. Hence 
 all thoughts of private aggrandizement; no self- 
 ish motive shall sully the brightness of my fame. 
 I am called to the combat, and I shall \ye 
 ready." 
 
 As he ceased speaking, he fancied he heard a 
 voice echo, " Be ready." He started forward,
 
 THE MYSTIC. 193 
 
 and, looking round, thought he saw a figure 
 gliding amongst the trees ; he rushed towards 
 the spot, but no one was there. He shouted, 
 and the sound reverberated through the air. 
 
 " ^Twas but an echo then," sighed he ; " Per- 
 haps even the stranger was a vision, and yet I 
 could not be so entirely deceived. Oh, that he 
 would return ; but I must wait his time ; and, 
 when it comes, this proud Mademoiselle Veroni 
 shall learn to form a truer estimate of my merits. 
 She shall then find that though my manners 
 may not be those of a Parisian, at least there 
 is nothing to ridicule in my mind." 
 
 Such, and a thousand others, yet more extra- 
 vagant, had long been the daily dreams of the 
 youthful enthusiast; and he had indulged in 
 these fancies till his health was impaired, and his 
 understanding seriously injured. Not that he 
 could be considered as a maniac ; for though his 
 imagination w^as diseased, and the judgment ap- 
 pertaining to that faculty was utterly gone, his mind 
 was perfectly healthy in all its other functions. 
 Metaphysics had destroyed his power of distin- 
 guishing between right and wrong, by causing 
 
 VOL. 1, K
 
 |94 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 him to reason from false data, not by depriving 
 him of reason. He was like a man suffering 
 from the yellow jaundice, he had not lost the 
 power of seeing objects, but he saw them tinged 
 with a colour which did not really belong to 
 them ; and his reveries, being a kind of mental 
 intoxication, though they stimulated, also debi- 
 litated his mind, and rendered it unfit for any 
 profitable exertion. Like Don Quixote, he 
 wasted his strength in attacking phantoms, and 
 was consequently unable to contend with real 
 enemies. 
 
 In the meantime Bernardi and Veroni had 
 retired to the study of the former, where they 
 were employed in discussing the perfectly unro- 
 mantic subject of the amount of the sum which 
 was to be paid for the board of Agnes, and the 
 manner in which Bernardi was to receive it. 
 When this was settled, Veroni yet lingered ; he 
 seemed to have something which he still wished 
 to communicate, yet knew not how to begin. 
 
 " The mother of Agnes died in giving her 
 birth,*' said he, " and the circumstance affected 
 me so much that it was very long before I could
 
 THE MYSTIC. 195 
 
 bear to see the child. Even now you may ob- 
 serve that it gives me pain to speak of her." 
 
 " I do observe it," said Bernardi, drily. 
 
 Veroni was more disconcerted than so triflinGf 
 a remark seemed to warrant, and he went on, 
 in a hurried manner : " After the death of my 
 kind friend Count Mancini, his noble brother, 
 the brave Rudolph, procured me a commission 
 in his own regiment, and afterwards placed me 
 in the household of King Joachim at Naples. 
 The overthrow of the French Emperor involved 
 that of his satellites ; and, deprived of my si- 
 tuation, I plunged into commerce, which intro- 
 duced me to you." 
 
 He paused; and though both felt the silence 
 awkward, neither was inclined to break it. 
 
 " Under the peculiar circumstances of the 
 case," resumed Veroni, after a long pause, " I 
 do not wish my daughter to be thought a native 
 Italian ; I would rather have her supposed to 
 be a young French girl, who has friends in 
 Italy." 
 
 Bernardi bowed assent. 
 
 " She is a Catholic," continued A^eroni. 
 k2
 
 196 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " She must continue in the same faith ; and if 
 your son does not marry her, I wish her to take 
 the veil." 
 
 Again Bernardi bowed. " All this is very 
 odd," thought he ; " however, father Raphael 
 will be pleased, and that is something. My 
 wife is a Catholic," said he, aloud, " and her 
 confessor is coming continually to the villa, so 
 that the spiritual affairs of your daughter will 
 be well attended to. He is in the other room, I 
 will speak to him when we go back, and will put 
 her under his care." 
 
 " Not for the world ! " cried Veroni, in a 
 voice which made Bernardi start. " I mean," 
 continued he, more temperately, " that a friend 
 of mine from Paris is expected in a month or 
 two, and as he has hitherto had the care of 
 Agnes* conscience, I wish him to retain it. You 
 know," continued he, smiling, " that a good 
 Catholic is not expected to confess above once 
 or twice a year." 
 
 '' Of course you are the best judge," said 
 Bernardi; "it cannot be of the slightest im- 
 portance to me."
 
 THE MYSTIC. 197 
 
 " I wish her very much to marry your son," 
 resumed Veroni ; " do you think it will be ad- 
 viseable to give either of them a hint ? " 
 
 " By no means," cried Bernardi ; '' no one is 
 more perverse than Monsieur Cupid, and I as- 
 sure you he does not like to be dictated to. If 
 you really wish them to marry, leave them to 
 themselves, and they will do very well. Ernest 
 is young and romantic, and Agnes is beautiful. 
 As long as they think that they are pleasing 
 themselves only, they can hardly fail to fall in 
 love ; but the moment they get a notion that 
 they are also pleasing you and me, it will be all 
 over, and they will most dutifully begin to hate. 
 Leave them to themselves, I say; Nature will 
 be their best tutor." 
 
 <* I believe you are right," said Veroni, 
 thoughtfully ; " so do what you think best." 
 
 They now returned to the ladies, and Veroni 
 soon after took his leave ; parting from his 
 daughter, however, (though he did not intend to 
 sec her again before he sailed,) with a coldness 
 that was perfectly incomprehensible to the warm- 
 hearted Bernardi.
 
 198 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " I do not know what to make of that man," 
 said he to his wife, when they retired for the 
 night ; " I half suspect that Agnes is not really 
 liis daughter." 
 
 " I don't care whether she is or not," re- 
 turned the lady, indignantly ; " for, at any rate, 
 I am sure she is a proud minx, and posi- 
 tively good for nothing as a housewife. Just 
 now, when I asked her to hold a skein of silk for 
 me, she did it so badly that it all became en- 
 tangled, and I was obliged to break it into such 
 short lengths that it will scarcely be good for 
 anything.'' 
 
 Bernard! laughed ; " I told you," said he, 
 " that you would find some difficulty in persuad- 
 ing a young lady, who pays handsomely for her 
 board, to act as your servant." 
 
 The Signora, highly provoked with her hus- 
 band's merriment, insinuated her suspicions, that 
 his acquaintance with Agnes was not so recent 
 as he pretended ; and an angry dialogue ensued, 
 which continued long after both parties had 
 sought their respective couches. 
 
 Agnes was not long in discovering the foible 
 of her hostess ; and, in the exuberance of her
 
 THE MYSTIC. 199 
 
 animal spirits, she delighted in tormenting her. 
 Father Raphael was also a standing mark for 
 her raillery. The father was exactly what is 
 generally called a good sort of man ; the literal 
 interpretation of which negative praise is, a man 
 of whom very little can be said either good, or 
 bad. Father Raphael, indeed, had but one dis- 
 tinguishing characteristic of a rational animal ; 
 he was very inquisitive, and whenever he 
 thought there was a secret, he never knew a mo- 
 ment's peace till he had discovered what it was 
 about. 
 
 Agnes soon observed this peculiarity, and 
 delighted in affecting mystery in every thing 
 she said and did, in order to keep the poor fa- 
 ther in a continual fever of anxiety. When his 
 feelings were sufficiently excited, Agnes would 
 pretend to make him her confidant ; and there 
 was no story too ridiculous for him to believe. 
 He was very much annoyed at not being her 
 religious confessor; and, as several months passed 
 without Veroni's friend arriving at Trieste, he 
 repeatedly offered his services ; they were, how- 
 ever, always declined ; and Father Raphael sup-
 
 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 posing that some powerful reason must exist for 
 the injunction against his agency, fretted himself 
 incessantly to endeavour to divine the cause. 
 
 Several months indeed elapsed, during which 
 Ernest was by no means able to analyze his own 
 feelings respecting Agnes. He could not deny 
 that she was beautiful ; and the enthusiasm which 
 she displayed when she heard or read of any no- 
 ble action, her fondness for poetry, and her ad- 
 miration of the beauties of nature, soon con^ 
 vinced him that he was mistaken in supposing 
 she had no soul ; yet her thoughtlessness, and her 
 gaiety, and, above all, her unconquerable love of 
 mischief, were quite at variance with his notions 
 of feminine delicacy and perfection. 
 
 " I wish I could understand your character," 
 said he to her one day, when they were sitting 
 under the shade of the trellis-work which pro- 
 jected from the walls of the villa, and formed 
 a spacious verandah nearly all round it. 
 
 Agnes laughed ; " What unreasonable crea- 
 tures you philosophers are," said she : " the 
 English poet says, 
 
 * Most womea have no character at all,'
 
 THE MYSTIC. 201 
 
 and yet you expect to understand mine. Have 
 not your studies taught you that it is quite im- 
 possible to comprehend a non-entity ? '' 
 
 " Sometimes you display a quickness of com- 
 prehension, and powers of mind which astonish 
 me, and yet the next instant you talk such non- 
 sense." 
 
 " La folie est la sagesse des femmes. What 
 man would ever endure a woman who always 
 talked sense? Now own the truth, don't you like 
 me all the better for my folly ? " 
 
 " How can you trifle so ? It is that which as- 
 tonishes me." 
 
 " There you are decidedly wrong; a wise 
 man should be astonished at nothing ; and he 
 should always preserve that enviable statue-like 
 state which, I suppose Horace meant, by his 
 ISlil adiiiirari. There ! I have quoted Latin to 
 you I protest, and if you doubt my wisdom after 
 that, there is no hope for you." 
 
 " How strangely you mix up things quite dis- 
 tinct. I mtended, this evening, to give you some 
 ideas on the general theory of mind ; and to ex- 
 K 5
 
 202 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 * 
 
 plain to you J the difference which exists between 
 moral and physical nature." 
 
 " But why not enjoy nature, when she thus 
 displays herself to us in all her beauty, without 
 entering into dry disquisitions to inquire the 
 reason why we are charmed with her. Look at 
 the creeping plants, which spread in wild luxu- 
 riance, from pillar to pillar of this verandah, like 
 a verdant network. How beautiful are their 
 varied tints, and how delicious their rich fra- 
 grance ! Can any thing be more lovely than this 
 prospect ? There lies the town, and beyond, the 
 waveless Adriatic, ' a liquid mirror in a verdant 
 frame ; ' and then, this balmy air which sweeps 
 by, is redolent of sweetness. Oh ! when we feel 
 such pleasure, why should we coldly seek to 
 analyze the cause of our emotions ? " 
 
 Her cheeks glowed, and her eyes sparkled as 
 she spoke ; while Ernest, as he gazed on her 
 beautiful lips, and pearly teeth, quite forgot the 
 arguments with which he had intended to op- 
 pose her opinions. 
 
 " Come, I will sing to you," continued she^ 
 smiling; " singing is better than reasoning," and
 
 THE MYSTIC^ 203 
 
 taking her guitar, she commenced a lively Frencli 
 air, which she soon changed to a more pathetic 
 Italian one, and Ernest listened, till his whole 
 soul felt " lapt in Elysium." She ceased, and the 
 philosopher, quite provoked at the power she 
 exercised over him, puzzled himself to discover 
 the cause. " She does not convince me, and 
 yet I cannot answer her," thought he : " What 
 can be the reason ? " He was quite bewilderetl, 
 and the longer he considered the subject, the less 
 able he felt to solve the difficulty. He was, at 
 length, roused from his meditations by a loud 
 laugh; and looking up, he found, that while lie 
 had been sitting silent, Agnes had drawn a cari- 
 cature of him, in the character of the crying 
 philosopher. The likeness was admirably pre- 
 served; but it was of that provoking kind, which 
 no original could feel flattered to own, and yet 
 no one could mistake. Ernest was positively 
 angry, and Agnes ran away, singing the refrain 
 of a song in " Le petit chaperon rouge ; " 
 
 ** Dansez, dansez, jeunes compagnons, &c." 
 
 " She certainly has no soul^" said Ernest, 
 " and I am a fool for wasting my time in talk-
 
 &04 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 ing to her. I never will speak to her again : 
 I won't even think of her." 
 
 Ernest sat down in pursuance of this wise re- 
 solution, and took up a volume of essays on 
 Moral Philosophy, but he could not read ; the 
 form of Agnes flitted over the page, and that hor- 
 rible ^^dansez, dansez,'* rung in his ears. " She 
 is so frivolous,'^ said he, " I have no patience 
 with her," and again he turned to his book; 
 but though his eyes wandered over the same 
 page several times, not a single idea was con- 
 veyed to his mind. He threw the volume down 
 in despair, and endeavoured to meditate, but it 
 was equally in vain ; the light, playful form of 
 Agnes, her laughing eyes, and animated coun- 
 tenance were the only things he could think of; 
 and, for the first time in his life, he felt delighted 
 at the approach of his father, accompanied by 
 three or four of the substantial burghers of the 
 town. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Ernest," said Bernardi, " these 
 gentlemen bring frightful news. The Carbo- 
 nari have made a dreadful massacre at Palermo ;
 
 THE MYSTIC. 205 
 
 they are now sailing up the Adriatic, and it is 
 supposed, that they intend to attack Trieste." 
 
 " Supposed ! it is certain," said Signor Albert, 
 who was a man of worship among his compeers, 
 " I tell you the fact is certain ; and I propose, 
 that we immediately remove our wealth and fa- 
 milies to Laybach." 
 
 " God forbid ! " said Ernest, energetically ; 
 " Shall we desert the town that has fostered us 
 when in her extremest need ? Shall children fly 
 from their defenceless mother, and leave her to 
 be the prey of spoilers ? No, let us rather rally 
 round her walls, and repair their breaches with 
 our living bodies. The warriors of a city are 
 her best ramparts ; and when surrounded by 
 them, she need fear no assault." 
 
 " You talk finely, young sir," said Albert, 
 " but if you had gold to lose " 
 
 " I should take the best method to save it 
 by defending the city, in which it was contained. 
 If you fly from Trieste, can you fancy that your 
 conquerors, flushed with success, will not pur- 
 sue you to Laybach ? Depend upon it, they 
 will follow, as fast as you can fly ; and when you
 
 206 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 do meet them, your arm, being unnerved by the 
 consciousness of having deserted your home, 
 and all that ought to be dear to man, will fail ; 
 and both you and your wealth will fall an easy 
 prey.'' 
 
 " You are right, Ernest, my boy," cried Ber- 
 nardi, in a transport of joy; "that is exactly 
 what I think myself, only I can't express it half 
 so well. Egad, neighbours, you see the boy 
 has some sense in spite of his romantic folly. 
 I vow I could hug him. No dracle ever spoke 
 better. Let us stay at home, and do our duty ; 
 and I warrant you, not a rascal will dare to 
 show his nose. They are all cowards; and 
 nothing could give them courage, but our run- 
 ning away. Ernest never spoke better in all 
 his life." 
 
 The other burghers thought the same ; and 
 Albert, unable to stem the tide, was compelled 
 to submit, though he retired, muttering divers 
 mysterious prognostications of evil, from the rash 
 councils of his young opposer.
 
 THE MYSTIC. 207 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Accursed the maid whom fate ordains in spite, 
 And cruel parents teach to read and write. 
 What need of letters ? Wherefore should we spell ? 
 Why write our names ? A mark will do as well ; 
 When with much pains this boasted learning's got, 
 'Tis an affront to those who have it not; 
 la some it causes hate, in others fear. 
 Instructs our foes to rail, our friends to sneer. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 Ernest was so much displeased with Agnes' 
 presumption in daring to laugh at him, that in 
 spite of the look of mock penitence, which she 
 put on, whenever he approached her, he avoided 
 her society during several tedious days; but alas ! 
 he found that he punished himself, far more than 
 he did her; and quite provoked at this discovery, 
 he wandered every day into the wood, hoping 
 to meet again the mysterious stranger. He was, 
 however, disappointed; the stranger appeared
 
 208 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 no more ; and he was one day returning cha- 
 grined, and melancholy, when, passing thi*ough 
 the garden, he saw Agnes sitting alone in a 
 bower of myrtlej and she looked so pensive, that 
 he could not resist the temptation of joining her. 
 Agnes, certainly, was unusually grave ; and the 
 scene, though lovely, was one rather fitted to 
 induce a feeling of pensiveness than gaiety. The 
 clear blue sky was illumined by the last rays of 
 the setting sun; and Trieste, the mountains, and 
 the sea, were all shining in a flood of glory ; the 
 air breathed a balmy softness, and the profound 
 stillness which reigned around, was only broken 
 by the busy hum of insects, and the murmuring 
 of a distant fountain. Ernest looked at Agnes, 
 and saw, with surprise, that her eyes were filled 
 with tears ; he inquired the cause. 
 
 " I am a mere child," said she, " and I really 
 am ashamed to tell you, that a dream has occa- 
 sioned my depression. I thought I saw some 
 hideous spectres, and they frightened me." 
 
 " How singular ! " exclaimed Ernest. " Last 
 night I, also, had a singular dream. I thought 
 that I was about to marry you, and — "
 
 THE MYSTIC. 209 
 
 " You see one does take strange fancies into 
 one's head sometimes," interrupted Agnes, with 
 some of her usual gaiety. 
 
 Ernest continued. " Suddenly, darkness 
 shrouded the sky, and terrific forms danced in 
 the air, thrusting themselves between us, and 
 grinning in my face, with a look of infernal mer- 
 riment. Mocking voices shouted in my ears, and 
 spectres crossed and re-crossed my path inces- 
 santly, impeding my passage, every time, I at- 
 tempted to approach you. With a violent ef- 
 fort, I broke through them, and awoke." 
 
 " It is a very strange coincidence," said Ag- 
 nes, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Do then our dreams correspond ? " asked 
 Ernest, with the utmost eagerness. 
 
 " Only in some respects," returned she: 
 " but, if they agreed exactly, it could be of no 
 consequence." 
 
 " Pardon me; it would prove the theor}', 
 which I was explaining to you, a short time 
 since ; respecting the invisible links of sympathy 
 which spread over certain individuals, connect-
 
 210 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 ing them in a species of a chain, which thrills 
 through all, the instant any one is affected." 
 
 " That such a chain, or rather net, may 
 spread over persons related, or warmly attached 
 to each other, I can believe ; but what possible 
 tie can exist between you and me, to make sym- 
 pathetic feelings thrill between us ? You know," 
 continued she, laughing, " that we do not agree 
 in a single point. / like to enjoy, you to ana- 
 lyze the motives of your enjoyment ; / generally 
 talk nonsense, you speak as though every word 
 were destined to appear in print; / like to 
 laugh, you to reason ; in short, to the best of 
 my knowledge and belief, we do not accord in 
 any thing." 
 
 " You laugh at my opinions," said Ernest, 
 gravely, " without understanding them. / think 
 that temporal happiness should not be the sole 
 end of our existence. The life of the soul is per- 
 fectly distinct from that of the body, and it is the 
 felicity of the soul that we ought alone to be 
 anxious to secure. The influence of external 
 objects upon the nerves, and through them upon 
 the senses, is opposed to this desire, and it is in
 
 THE MYSTIC. 
 
 211 
 
 proportion, to the capability we attain, of con- 
 quering the inchnations of the body, in order 
 to give strength to those of the mind, that we 
 are either virtuous, or happy. It is for this 
 reason, that I hke to know the sources of my 
 happiness, before I venture to enjoy it ; lest bo- 
 dily feehngs should mix with, and contaminate 
 the purity of my mental ones." 
 
 " According to your ideas, then, the monks of 
 La Trappe ought to be the happiest men in ex- 
 istence." 
 
 " By no means, for though ascetic devotion 
 has, no doubt, arisen from a misapphcation of 
 this theory, there is a counteracting power in 
 the human breast; the principle of universal 
 justice, which God has implanted in the minds 
 of men, to teach them to do their duty to them- 
 selves, and to each other. Man, thus learns that 
 he is not an isolated individual, but a part of 
 one great whole ; and that society has claims 
 upon him, which he cannot shake off, without 
 reversino^ the order of his beinoj.'* 
 
 " But how is he to attain happiness ? " 
 
 *' By endeavouring to advance towards moral
 
 212 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 perfection ; and by sacrificing not only his sen- 
 sual pleasures, but also, in some degree, his 
 mental ones." 
 
 " Ah ! you are getting too profound for me." 
 
 *' I mean, that a man should not perform great 
 actions, merely that his pride and vanity may be 
 gratified by the applauses of the world ; but that 
 he should be able to endure even its contumely, 
 if his own heart be satisfied with the innate con- 
 sciousness of virtue." 
 
 " Oh what a beautiful butterfly ! Do help 
 me to catch it," cried Agnes, eagerly, and, 
 springing from her seat, she flew off in pursuit 
 of the fluttering insect. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " thought Ernest, looking 
 after her. " She leaves a discussion, which in- 
 volves the happiness of the whole human race, 
 to run after a butterfly ! She is quite imprac- 
 ticable." 
 
 And, sighing deeply, he walked towards the 
 house, where he arrived almost at the same in- 
 stant as Agnes, who had secured her struggling 
 captive, and now held it up to him in triumph. 
 He did not condescend to look at it; and walked
 
 THE MYSTIC. 213 
 
 away, with such an air of offended dignity, that 
 Agnes laughed immoderately. When they en- 
 tered the house, however, her mirth was changed 
 into curiosity, for they found the whole esta- 
 blishment in a state of inexplicable commotion. 
 The thunder of Signora Bernardi's voice, was 
 followed by torrents of water, propelled in every 
 possible direction, by mops and brooms. Never 
 before had any French, German, or Italian 
 mansion, undergone such an inundation ; the 
 very cats and dogs fled in dismay, and the rats 
 peeped trembling from their air-holes, to dis- 
 cover the reason of this unwonted deluge. The 
 mystery was soon explained ; three English la- 
 dies of rank, travelling on the Continent, had 
 been so strongly recommended to Signor Ber- 
 nardi, that he thought it necessary, to beg them 
 to make his house their home, during their stay 
 in the neighbourhood of Trieste ; and, they 
 having accepted the offer, he sent to apprize his 
 wife ; who, like all the continental ladies, think- 
 ing the English must delight in water (probably 
 because they are surrounded with it at home).
 
 ^4 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 had immediately put her whole dwelling in a 
 flood. 
 
 Agnes seemed ver}^ much annoyed at this in- 
 telligence, her gaiety fled, and she instantly re- 
 tired to her chamber ; whilst Ernest, who was 
 naturally shy, and who had not been used to 
 promiscuous society, felt a species of dread op- 
 press him at the thought of a visit from travelled 
 English ladies of rank. Both he and Agnes 
 spoke English fluently ; they had read together 
 many English authors, and had conversed so 
 much of that country, that Ernest had often ex- 
 pressed an earnest wish to see some of the na- 
 tives. Yet now, that his wish seemed on the 
 point of being gratified, it almost inspired him 
 with terror. At that time, the English were not 
 so numerous on the continent as at present ; par- 
 ticularly, not in the Austrian dominions; and la- 
 dies so seldom quit their homes abroad, that the 
 idea of three females travelling together, without 
 any male protection (but that of servants), car- 
 ried with it something of amazonian bravery, so 
 contrary to his ideas of feminine delicacy, that
 
 THE MYSTIC. 215 
 
 he regarded the expected strangers with abhor- 
 rence. Signora Bernard!, on the contrary, was 
 very anxious to see them ; for, from her infancy, 
 she had been infected with a complete Anglo- 
 mania. Her father and mother were compelled 
 to seek refuge in Great Britain, (from one of 
 those impolitic persecutions of persons of their 
 religion, which have so often disgraced the dif- 
 ferent continental governments,) when the latter 
 was far advanced in pregnancy; and, conse- 
 quently, the Signora had actually been born in 
 England, though her parents had quitted that 
 country, only two months after her birth. This, 
 however, she considered as quite immaterial, 
 and she was not only excessively fond of telling 
 every body that she was an Englishwoman, but 
 she piqued herself exceedingly upon the Angli- 
 cized arrangement of her house and table. 
 
 In the meantime Bernardi escorted the three 
 ladies and their attendants to his villa. They had 
 travelled entirely by water, (a long sea-voyage 
 having been recommended to Lady Trevallion, 
 who fancied herself delicate,) and they were now 
 enthusiastic in their admiration of all thev saw
 
 216 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 on land. Every place, indeed, appears to ad- 
 vantage to eyes which have been long confined 
 to the monotony of the sea ; for when the eye 
 is weary with the vast plains of ocean, even trees 
 and houses give the idea of an earthly paradise. 
 
 " How delightful it is to breathe the soft, pure 
 air of the Adriatic," said Lady Trevallion (qui 
 faisait la belle sentimentale ) ; "how enchanting 
 to hear the clear, sweet accents of the melodious 
 Italian gliding in liquid harmony from every 
 tongue. I feared, when we passed at a distance 
 the sunny halls of sea-girt Venice, that we aban- 
 doned the bewitching language, as well as the 
 fertile plains of glowing Italy; and that at 
 Trieste, only the harsh sounds of the barbarous, 
 guttural German would strike upon our shud- 
 dering ears." 
 
 " I am happy then to inform your ladyship," 
 returned Bernardi, " that we not only speak 
 Italian, but that our houses are also built in the 
 Italian style ; so that I hope we may be so fortu- 
 nate as to please your ladyship in that respect. 
 As to our living, that my wife flatters herself is 
 quite English." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it," said Lady Harriet
 
 THE MYSTIC. 217 
 
 Cranwell, the eldest sister of Lady Trevallion, a 
 lady, who, having reached the awful age of 
 thirty-five in a state of spinstership, now affected 
 a bold dashing style, apparently in the desperate 
 hope of frightening her beaux into matrimony, 
 since she could not contrive to allure them to it. 
 "Have you not some curious antiquities in 
 the neighbourhood?" asked the Hon. Miss 
 Trevallion, the daughter of Lady Trevallion's 
 husband by a former wife; and who, being un- 
 fortunately very ugly, wished to be thought a 
 hel esprit, (or rather a bas hleUi) because she 
 had no other means of distinguishing herself. 
 
 " I — I rather believe we have," replied Sig- 
 nor Bernardi, who was not one of the cogno- 
 scenti, " This, ladies," continued he, as the 
 carriage stopped, " is my humble abode. Per- 
 mit me to bid you welcome." 
 
 " 'Tis a fairy palace in elysium ! " exclaimed 
 Lady Trevallion, clasping her hands together 
 with affected enthusiasm. " How delicious ! 
 How enchanting ! 'Tis Alcina's bower amidst a 
 grove of sweets." 
 
 " Dove sono le donne ? " asked Bernardi, of 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 the man who appeared to assist the ladies to 
 alight ; for as he had often heard of the predi- 
 liction of English ladies for female attendants, 
 he fancied they would want them, even to be 
 helped out of a carriage. 
 
 " he donne stanno intorno della padrona" 
 returned the man ; " ella vada darlei qualche — '* 
 
 " Zito ! " said Bernardi, hastily stopping him. 
 
 " How soft ! How full of melody is la hella 
 lingua Italiana^^ sighed Lady Trevallion. " 'JLa 
 padrona ! ^ how exqusitely harmonious, and 
 how much more poetical than our vulgar word 
 mistress." 
 
 At this moment " la padrona''^ made her ap- 
 pearance, surrounded by her '^ donne ;^' who, like 
 all persons tutored to assume behaviour not na- 
 tural to them, looked awkward and aghast, and 
 seemed upon the point of tumbling over each 
 other, or running against the guests, in their 
 extreme eagerness to do every thing comme il 
 fant. 
 
 " You are welcome, mi ladies," said the Sig- 
 nora, exerting herself to speak English, though 
 the effort actually almost threw her into a fever ;
 
 THE MYSTIC. 219 
 
 " and I vill that my poor house do all that she 
 can to make you quite agreeable." 
 
 As she spoke, the Signora looked round witli 
 an air of triumph upon her servants ; who for 
 their parts, were perfectly awe-struck to discover 
 what a wonderful linguist their lady had proved 
 herself. Lady Trevallion, however, was not so 
 much pleased as the Italian domestics, for she 
 thought it infinitely more agreeable to talk bad 
 Italian, than to listen to bad English : indeed, 
 as there seems to be a pleasure in uttering 
 jargon, which none but jargonists know, it cer- 
 tainly was not polite in the Signora to usurp 
 the privilege of her guests, and to compel them to 
 speak intelligibly against their will. The Hon. 
 Miss Trevallion was not so quiescent as her lady 
 mother, it would have been high treason against 
 the laws of blueism, to speak a language which 
 she perfectly understood ; so she answered the 
 Signora, in Italian so sublime, as to create a 
 doubt in that lady's mind, as to what language, 
 her guest could possibly be speaking. 
 
 As the villa, from the indefatigable exertions 
 of the Signora and her maids, was still like the 
 l2
 
 220 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 wreck of a ship entre deux eaux^ the English 
 ladies had some difficulty to pilot their way, to 
 the chambers allotted for them, particularly as 
 the Signora, in the true spirit of managing, had 
 shown her anxiety to make her guests comfort- 
 able, by removing every article of furniture from 
 its proper place. At length they effected a pas- 
 sage, and did not again make their appearance, 
 till having arranged their toilettes, they descend- 
 ed to the dining-room. 
 
 Lady Trevallion was a pale, languid-looking 
 beauty, with languishing blue eyes, and reddish 
 hair, which she called auburn ; but she piqued 
 herself principally upon the delicacy of her 
 complexion, which was, indeed, fair even to a 
 fault. Lady Harriet was a tall, dashing brunette, 
 highly rouged, and quite on a large scale ; while 
 Miss Trevallion was decidedly plain, and of the 
 class commonly called " dowdies." 
 
 " What a lovely girl," exclaimed Lady Har- 
 riet, in English, putting up her eye-glass to 
 survey Agnes, as she entered the room ; " Who 
 is she?"
 
 THE MYSTIC. 221 
 
 " My ward, Mademoiselle Veroni," said Ber- 
 nardi, in the same language, which he spoke 
 fluently. 
 
 " Is she Italian, then ? I declare I thought 
 she had quite the air of a French woman." 
 
 " She is French ; though of Italian extrac- 
 tion." 
 
 " She is quite en-chant-ing," drawled forth 
 Lady Trevallion. 
 
 " And who is that interesting looking youth," 
 continued Lady Harriet, " with his long black 
 hair, hanging loosely on his shoulders ? You 
 will excuse my being so familiar ; it is my way — " 
 
 " That is my son, a student from Graatz." 
 
 " I shall be happy to cultivate your acquaint- 
 ance. Sir," said Miss Trevallion. in what she 
 called Italian. " I have heard much of the 
 Biirchsen, of the German universities, and I have 
 read all the German metaphysicians. Pray, Sir, 
 what is your opinion of the doctrines of Kant ?" 
 
 Before Ernest could frame any kind of an- 
 swer, to this, certainly rather sweeping question ; 
 dinner was placed upon the table, and he found 
 himself seated between Agnes and Miss Tre-
 
 222 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 vallion. Agnes scarcely spoke, and she looked 
 grave ; but the latter lady almost deafened him, 
 by asking in a kind of lingua franca, formed 
 from the English, French, Italian, and German, 
 a few such light and trifling questions as the 
 following : " Do you believe in Newton's doc- 
 trine of gravitation ? Do you think they will 
 ever be able to discover the longitude ? What 
 is your theory respecting the formation of the 
 earth ; and do you really believe in the possibi- 
 lity of a future state ? " 
 
 As the language she spoke, was not very intel- 
 ligible, Ernest had some difficulty in making 
 out what she meant, and his whole attention was 
 occupied in trying to understand her ; whilst his 
 father was as completely engrossed by Lady Tre- 
 vallion. 
 
 Her ladyship in early youth, from the deli- 
 cacy of her complexion, and the sylph-like 
 lightness of her figure, had attracted the at- 
 tention of a man at least forty years older 
 than herself. He was rich; she, though well 
 descended, poor, and nothing could be more 
 common-place than the denouement of the story :
 
 THE MYSTIC. 223 
 
 they were married: and in process of time, 
 the lady (to her great joy) became a widow, 
 with a handsome jointure. She was now de- 
 termined to indemnify herself for the sacrifice 
 she had made, by tormenting every one who 
 was so unfortunate as to fall in her way ; and 
 for this purpose, she affected the utmost softness 
 and gentleness of manner ; while though she was 
 never known to perform a favour, so as to confer 
 any real obligation on the obligee; yet as she was 
 never known positively to refuse one, she was 
 generally considered a most delightful woman. 
 Indeed her manners were so kind and gracious, 
 and her flatteries so bewitching, that the greater 
 part of those she associated with, were content 
 to take her paper currency instead of gold ; and 
 it was only, when they had been silly enough to 
 place dependance, upon her unbounded offers 
 of service, that they found themselves deceived. 
 Her present hosts, who had not peneti'a- 
 tion enough to see beneath the surface, of 
 course, thought her delightftil ; and her compli- 
 ments to them were so prettily expressed ; that 
 whether they were couched in broken Italian,
 
 224 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 or elegant English, they were most favourably 
 received. 
 
 The attention of both Ernest and his father 
 was thus completely occupied ; they never no- 
 ticed the dishes on the table, till they were 
 compelled to remark them, by an exclamation, 
 almost of horror, from Lady Harriet. 
 
 The Signora Bernard! had laboured most 
 industriously, to make her entertainment quite 
 English ; and she had succeeded about as well 
 in her attempt, as the doctor, who tried to give 
 a Roman feast to Peregrine Pickle. At the 
 head of the table, was a huge calve 's head, boiled 
 exactly as it was taken from the animal; its great 
 ghastly eyes looking like scalded goosberries, and 
 its hair, which still adhered in patches, more 
 dissjusting than can be described. On one side 
 (unstripped of any of their supernumerary 
 leaves) were some cabbages, which had been 
 just dipped in hot water, and then placed round 
 a large piece of underdone, half-salted pork, 
 which the Signora flattered herself was bacon. 
 As a pendant to this elegant dish, were some 
 nondescripts ; which the hostess called " bigsticks
 
 THE MYSTIC. 225 
 
 de moiiton," and which certainly well merited 
 their cognomen in one respect ; as they bore a 
 marvelous resemblance to sticks, both in hard- 
 ness and insipidity. At the bottom, was an im- 
 mense piece of boiling beef, which had been 
 put down to the fire to be roasted ; but taken 
 up again, before it was quite warmed through, 
 lest it should displease the English palate by 
 being over done. The pride, however, of the 
 Signora's table, was a heterogeneous mass in 
 the centre, ycleped a "plum pudding;" but 
 which, having been boiled without a cloth, 
 looked like one of the porridge-pots of furmity, 
 which we are told were die fashionable dishes 
 at court, in " Good King Arthur's Golden 
 Days." The liquors harmonized well with 
 the more substantial part of the entertainment ; 
 for diey consisted of a strange compound, chris- 
 tened for courtesy "beer," and some execrable 
 cider. 
 
 Tlie consternation of the English ladies at 
 
 this extraordinary repast, may be much easier 
 
 conceived than described. The " big sticks de 
 
 mouton," formed the only dish that could tempt 
 
 L 3
 
 226 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 even the most ravenous appetite ; and of these, 
 there were not half a dozen. The good-hu- 
 moured Signor Bernard!, whose tenderest part 
 was his stomach, looked around him in dismay : 
 Ernest was more annoyed than he liked to ac- 
 knowledge ; father Raphael, who had been in- 
 vited to do honour to the repast, began mutter- 
 ing incantations to drive away the evil spirits, 
 that he fancied had bewitched it : even Agnes felt 
 hungry and disappointed ; and Miss Trevallion 
 looked bluer than ever: in fact, and all sat in silent 
 amazement, till Lady Harriet burst into a violent 
 fit of laughter. Her example was contagious, and 
 all joined, save the discomfited Signora; who 
 turned from one to the other, horror-struck to 
 find the elegant manner, in which she had en- 
 deavoured to please the taste of her guests, so 
 ill appreciated. 
 
 " Mia car a moglie," said Bernardi, wiping 
 his eyes, as soon as he recovered breath to speak, 
 " Do not look so distressed. I am sure our 
 guests will give full credit to the excellence of 
 your intentions; but you have fallen into an 
 error which is only too common ; you have
 
 THE MYSTIC. 227 
 
 spoiled every thing, in attempting to do too 
 much. In future, we will have plain Italian 
 fare, and we will not attempt to imitate, what 
 we do not understand. Let this horrible med- 
 ley be taken away, and something served that 
 we can eat." 
 
 Some maccaroni and soup had been luckily 
 dressed for the servants, whose Anglomanic 
 taste was not so furious as that of their mistress ; 
 and that was now placed before the mal vivcmts, 
 some of whose sins, it may be hoped, were ex- 
 piated by the severity of their involuntary fast.
 
 228 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Make not to dangerous wit a vain pretence ; 
 
 But wisely rest content with modest sense ; 
 
 For wit, like wine, intoxicates the brain, 
 
 Too strong for feeble woman to sustain. 
 
 Of those who claim it — more than half have none, 
 
 And half of those who have it are undone,, 
 
 Lyttleton. 
 
 The hurry and bustle occasioned by the ar- 
 rival of the strangers, had formed such a con- 
 trast to the usual quiet at the villa, that, when 
 Ernest retired for the night, he found his 
 thoughts too confused to sleep, and after several 
 hours of feverish restlessness, he arose and 
 opened his windov*^. The moon was shining in 
 all her splendour, and her soft light gave such 
 a delicate and transparent green to the trees, 
 that Ernest felt tempted to walk out amongst 
 them. His bed-room was on the ground floor, 
 and not wishing to disturb the family, he sprang
 
 THE MYSTIC. 229 
 
 lightly from his window upon the green lawn 
 which spread beneath. Nothing could be more 
 beautiful than the scene. In the southern parts 
 of Europe, the moon shines with a clearness and 
 brilliancy, hardly conceivable to those who have 
 never seen her but in England ; and the sha- 
 dows in the landscape seemed veiled with a 
 light greyish kind of vapour, which gives inde- 
 scribable softness and harmony to the whole. 
 Ernest felt the tranquillizing effect of the hour, 
 and the turbulence of his spirits were soothed 
 to repose, as he watched the waters of the foun- 
 tain dancing in the moon-beams, and listened 
 to its gentle murmiu-ing. Suddenly, he thought 
 that he heard the sound of human voices, mingling 
 with the gurgling of the water; he listened, and 
 soon, distinctly heard whispers in a little copse 
 adjoining the garden. Ideas of robbers, banditti, 
 and carbonari, instantly flashed across his mind ; 
 and he crept cautiously to a spot, from whence, 
 sheltered by a large acacia, he could see the 
 speakers, yet be himself unseen. 
 
 The objects of his suspicion did not keep 
 him long in suspence; but as they advanced,
 
 230 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 and he distinctly saw their features in the bright 
 moon-Hght, what language can express his con- 
 sternation and surprize, to find that the interlo- 
 cutors were Agnes and Veroni ; at first, Ernest 
 could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses, 
 and he almost fancied that the figures he saw, 
 were only one of his customary visions, but they 
 soon advanced so near, that he could distinguish 
 what they said, and the first words he caught 
 filled him with dismay. They were uttered by 
 Agnes. 
 
 " I think them all very odd, but though 1 
 certainly like Ernest best, I could never make 
 up my mind to marry him. His character 
 wants strength. He is too visionary ; in fact, I 
 think him half mad.'' 
 
 " Nonsense ! you do him injustice." 
 '' Only hear ; it is but a few days since, that 
 he took it into his head to talk politics to the 
 two Signore, Albert and Bernardi ; interrupting 
 the former lady, in an attempt a faire crever son 
 ajnie, by the description of an English carpet 
 just arrived by one of her husband's vessels; and
 
 THE MYSTIC. 231 
 
 breaking one of the other's most valuable vases, 
 by the energy of his declamation." 
 
 " That was not a proof of his sanity, cer- 
 tainly." 
 
 " Oh, that is nothing compared to some of his 
 gaucheries. Whenever he comes into the room, 
 I tremble for the Signora's china ; then, some- 
 times, he sits absorbed in meditation ; and when 
 any one speaks, he starts up, so (throwing her- 
 self into an attitude), and after staring round, as 
 wildly, as an escaped lunatic, he begins to de- 
 claim on the moral and physical rights of man, 
 though perhaps the question put to him, was 
 only to ask if he would like a little soup, or 
 some maccaroni." 
 
 Veroni laughed. " You must curb your 
 tongue, Agnes," said he, "or you will never get 
 a husband. But to return to the subject of your 
 alai-m. 1 do not think the visit of the English 
 ladies of the least consequence to our friend, and 
 wish" — Here, his words became inaudible from 
 tlie distance; but Ernest had heard quite enough 
 to afford him food for meditation. At first, rage 
 was his only feeling ; and in his eagerness for re-
 
 23.2 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 venge he determined to inform the government 
 of the presence of Veroni, as he did not doubt 
 that he had some political motive for conceal- 
 ment. " And then, Mademoiselle Veroni shall 
 find that I am not either so mad or so abstracted 
 as she imagines," thought he. The next instant, 
 however, he pictured her to himself overwhelmed 
 with grief at the danger of her father, her fine 
 eyes swimming in tears, and her expressive fea- 
 tures convulsed with agony. " I should be sorry 
 to act rashly," thought Ernest. " I will tell her 
 what I have seen, and be guided by her manner 
 as to what course I shall pursue afterwards ; or, 
 what will be better, I will act so nobly towards 
 her, that she shall be compelled to admire me, 
 and that will be revenge. I was certain that she 
 did not know me, and I find that I did not know 
 her. The gaiety of her manner has been only a 
 cloak assumed to hide the thoughts that lurked 
 beneath. I have done her injustice." 
 
 Ernest adored mystery, and Agnes rose ra- 
 pidly in his estimation as soon as he found she 
 was entrusted with a secret. His active imagi- 
 nation immediately pictured her as an injured
 
 THE MYSTIC. 233 
 
 heiress whom Veroni was plotting to restore 
 to her property, but who, not being able to 
 effect his purpose, was obliged to implore the 
 aid of Ernest. He was of course successful; 
 and when the hand of Agnes was offered as his 
 reward, he refused it with dignity, upbraiding 
 her at the same time with her previous want of 
 penetration. Having thus punished the insen- 
 sible Agnes, Ernest returned to his chamber, 
 and soon fell asleep ; but still in dreams he was 
 haunted with the visions of the day, and he 
 awoke feverish and unrefreshed. It was late, 
 and dressing hastily, he hurried to the usual 
 sitting-room, where lie found the whole party 
 assembled, and partaking of an Enghsh break- 
 fast. No one could possibly look less like a 
 mysterious heroine than Agnes. She was in 
 high spirits, talking to the English ladies, and 
 quizzing father Raphael and the Signora, who, 
 however, seemed to have forgotten her late dis- 
 grace, in the pleasures she experienced from the 
 gracious manners of Lady Trevallion. That 
 lady was the queen of promises, and she pos- 
 sessed a peculiar kind of tact, which made her
 
 234- STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 instinctively, as it were, fix upon the things 
 which her hearers most desired. It had always 
 occasioned great annoyance to the Signora Ber- 
 nardi, that her husband had a carriage at his 
 command, though she had not. The good-na- 
 tured Signor had offered to keep two, in order 
 to obviate the difficulty; but this his wife's ava- 
 rice could not submit to, and as her pride would 
 not permit her to walk, she rarely left the villa. 
 Lady Trevallion had a handsome English ba- 
 rouche, and as she readily promised that it should 
 be every day and hour, during her stay, at the 
 service of her new friend, the Signora's eyes 
 brightened with joy ; she would have accepted 
 the offer, and set off" for Trieste immediately, 
 but unfortunately Lady Trevallion had promised 
 that morning, to take her daughter-in-law to 
 visit some antiquities in the neighbourhood ; she 
 was, however, 50 sorry, any day but that she would 
 be delighted, enchanted, &c. 
 
 The Signora thought it was unfortunate ; but 
 as Miss TrevalUon had done nothing but talk of 
 these antiquities since her arrival, she owned her 
 prior claim, and could not blame Lady Treval-
 
 THE MYSTia 
 
 235 
 
 lion for preferring her daughter-in-law to a 
 stranger. She did, however, hope, that as there 
 were only three ladies, and as the carriage would 
 hold four persons, she might be invited to join 
 the party. No such thing: Lady Trevallion 
 declared she would have found the company of 
 her hostess make the journey appear a tour in 
 Elysium ; but, unfortunately, her own health was 
 so delicate, that she dared not travel without her 
 Abigail, and the poor girl had caught such a 
 cold from the dampness of the Signora's house 
 the preceding evening, that it would be inhuman 
 to put her on the box. Her ladyship was quite 
 distressed, perfectly unhappy; but another time, 
 she should be delighted, fascinated, enchanted, 
 &c. The Signora certainly was disappointed, 
 but as she could not doubt the sincerity of her 
 new friend, she could only sigh, and look for- 
 ward to a happier opportunity. 
 
 Some how or other, however, two or three 
 days passed, and yet this happy opportunity 
 never arrived, though no one could possibly la- 
 ment the circumstance more than Lady Treval- 
 lion: she indeed appeared so very much dis-
 
 236 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 tressed, that the Signora, out of pure good-nature, 
 forgot her own disappointment, and attempted 
 to console her. While, though she could 
 not conceal from herself, that it seemed odd, a 
 lady, so absolute in all her other caprices, should 
 have so little the command of her own equipage, 
 yet when her ladyship appeared, her graceful 
 manners, and honeyed tongue silenced every 
 faint suspicion, and the Signora, like many of 
 her sex, went on "believing still, though still 
 deceived." 
 
 In the mean time the presence of the 
 strangers, and the bustle into which the Signora, 
 thought it necessary, to throw the whole house- 
 hold, rendered it very difficult for Ernest to 
 obtain a private interview with Agnes, though 
 he sought for one incessantly, from the time he 
 overheard the conversation in the garden ; till at 
 length, when he was almost in despair, he en- 
 countered her in Bernardi's study. This was a 
 pleasant little room, looking towards the sea, 
 where they had been accustomed, before the 
 arrival of the strangers, to pass their mornings 
 in reading or conversation, whilst the worthy
 
 THE MYSTIC. 237 
 
 proprietor of the sanctuary was in town. Agnes 
 was reading when Ernest entered, and scarcely 
 raising her eyes from her book, she congratu- 
 lated him on his escape from Miss Trevallion. 
 
 " She is horrible," cried Ernest, with a look 
 of dis";ust. " How stran^re it is that women 
 can never be learned without becoming pe- 
 dantic." 
 
 " Nevertheless the French women do contrive 
 it," observed Agnes. 
 
 " I do not doubt that you think so. In fact, 
 I believe you think that the French of both sexes 
 excel us in every thing." 
 
 " In manners they do certainly." 
 Ernest's anger returned. " I will not speak 
 to her," thought he ; " I will inform my father 
 of what I have seen, and then he may take what 
 measures he pleases." 
 
 He threw himself into a chair with his back 
 towards Agnes, and took up a book. She 
 laughed, "There is a proof, said she; "a 
 Frenchman would not do so." 
 
 " I know," said Ernest, turning passionately, 
 *' that I am the object of your ridicule ; that I
 
 238 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 am hated and abhorred by you, and that you 
 think me mad ; I heard you say so to your father 
 the other night." 
 
 Agnes turned pale. " What can you mean ? *' 
 asked she. 
 
 " I heard you in the garden, speaking to your 
 father." 
 
 Agnes* lip quivered : " We are in your power 
 then," said she, faintly; " will you betray us?" 
 
 " No, by Heaven I will not!" exclaimed 
 Ernest, thrown off his guard by her manner ; 
 ^' only tell me how to serve you, and I will be 
 your slave." 
 
 Agnes smiled : " Notwithstanding all my of- 
 fences ? You are really very generous." 
 
 " Do not laugh at me. I cannot bear your 
 ridicule." 
 
 " I am very sorry that it has power to annoy 
 you ;" said Agnes, gravely ; " I fear you think 
 too much of the opinions of others, for your own 
 happiness." 
 
 Ernest was inexpressibly mortified at her 
 manner. " You do not know me," said he, ve- 
 hemently ; " you do not penetrate beneath the
 
 THE MYSTIC. 
 
 239 
 
 surface ; if you could read my heart, you would 
 find that the manners, which so disgust you, are 
 no part of me." 
 
 " I am perfectly aware that good manners are 
 only habits of society ;" said Agnes ; " and that 
 they cannot l)e acquired without intercourse with 
 the world — " 
 
 " And is it for what you acknowledge to be 
 so transient, and so worthless that I am despised ? 
 We do not dislike a man because his language 
 is different from our own. We feel no shame in 
 having been born in different countries, or being 
 clothed in different garments." 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! my dear philosopher. If you 
 knew more of the world, you would use different 
 arguments, for every thing you now say, tells 
 against you. We do very often estimate people 
 entirely by their clothes ; and we laugh even 
 at deep passion, when it is uttered in broken 
 language." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle Veroni, 
 for having intruded on your time ; I fear that I 
 have been too officious ; I find you were right, 
 and that we have no point of union. We have
 
 240 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 been differently educated, and we have no 
 thoughts in common." 
 
 " We have indeed been differently educated," 
 returned Agnes, sighing ; " and we do not quite 
 understand each other ; yet I trust that we have 
 many points in common. We both love virtue 
 and abhor vice, and we both endeavour to do 
 what we consider our duty. You, however, are 
 far happier than I, for your enthusiasm makes 
 you believe all mankind as amiable as yourself; 
 whilst I have had a peep behind the scenes, and 
 I am shocked at the hideous passions which form 
 the main springs of the human heart. Circum- 
 stances have involved me in mystery, and over- 
 whelmed me with care ; but you may escape. 
 Beware whom you trust ; especially beware of 
 sophistry. Even now you are in danger, and I 
 long to warn you, but a solemn oath forbids me 
 to tell you more, than that you will shortly be 
 tempted. Heaven grant that you may resist." 
 
 " Explain — for mercy's sake explain — and 
 tell me the nature of the danger, that threatens 
 me." 
 
 " I cannot ; I have already infringed on my
 
 THE MYSTIC. 241 
 
 oath. Adieu ; God bless you ; for I assure you 
 that, in spite of my gaiety, I have a heart that 
 feels grateful for your kindness." 
 
 So saying, she left him ; whilst Ernest stood 
 overpowered by his feelings, and astonished alike 
 by the nature of the information which she had 
 given, and by the emotion which she had dis- 
 played. 
 
 " She was agitated," thought he, " when she 
 said she had infringed her oath. Why then did 
 she infringe it ? Why should she risk so much 
 to save me?'' The answer was pleasing to his 
 vanity, and he pondered over it during the re- 
 mainder of the day. 
 
 Before the English ladies had passed an entire 
 week at the villa. Lady Harriet proposed their 
 departure. Her reasons were not very difficult 
 to be divined. There were no marrying men in 
 the vicinity; and a spinster verging near the 
 ultima Thule of forty has no time to lose. Her 
 companions, however, who were not in so cri- 
 tical a situation, showed no inclination to comply 
 with her wishes, and poor Lady Harriet against 
 her will was compelled to remain. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " I cannot imagine what you find so delight- 
 ful in this place," said she ; '* unless it be that 
 dismal-looking knight of the woeful countenance, 
 with his long black hair streaming over his 
 shoulders, like a captain of banditti." 
 
 " This balmy air," returned Lady Treval- 
 lion, in a soft, affected tone ; " and the sweet 
 fragrance of these groves of orange and myrtle." 
 
 '' But there are groves of orange and myrtle 
 to be met with at other places than Trieste. I 
 came abroad to travel, and to visit different 
 countries, not to be shut up in one insignificant 
 sea- port." 
 
 " Excuse me. Lady Harriet," said Miss Tre- 
 vallion ; " Trieste is not insignificant. It was 
 intended by the Emperor Charles VI. to be a 
 station for his men of war, when he wished to 
 carry on a trade with the countries bordering on 
 the Mediterranean." 
 
 " Vide the Ediriburgh Gazetteer, or Russell's 
 Modern Europe." 
 
 " Really, Lady Harriet, you are very pro- 
 voking ; you know nothing yourself, and you are 
 ill-natured to those who do.*'
 
 THE MYSTIC. 243 
 
 " Laura, my dear," said Lady Trevallion . 
 " you surely forget yourself; you are quite ill- 
 bred.'' 
 
 " I did not mean to offend Lady Harriet, for 
 I know she thinks it a compliment to be called 
 ignorant. Indeed, you must see yourself, madam, 
 that she often affects to be so, when she is not. 
 It was but the other day, when I was mention- 
 ing that Laybach was supposed to be founded by 
 Jason, on his return from Colchis, that she asked 
 me who Jason was." 
 
 " Laura, vous me casserez la tete,^' said Lady 
 Trevallion, in a tone of asperity ; then, resuming 
 her usual gentleness, she addressed Lady Har- 
 riet. " I assure you it grieves me inexpressibly, 
 my dear sister, to linger a single moment at 
 Trieste after you have avowed a desire to quit 
 it ; but you know, my dearest Harriet, that the 
 hienseances of society must be observed. When 
 we came, we were to remain a fortnight, and as 
 we have received very great hospitality from the 
 Signor Bernardi, we cannot well go sooner; 
 besides, though his wife is an intolerable bore, 
 M 2
 
 S44 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 yet as the poor woman seems to have set her 
 heart upon taking some rides in my carriage, 
 one would not wish to disappoint her. We 
 should be considerate to every one ; and I am 
 sure I need not remind my dearest Harriet, 
 whose heart is always overflowing with the milk 
 of human kindness, that it is our duty to oblige 
 our fellow creatures, whenever it may happen to 
 be in our power.'' 
 
 Lady Harriet smiled; for as she had been 
 behind the scenes, Lady Trevallion's set speech 
 produced no more effect upon her mind, than a 
 tragedy does upon those who have been present 
 at the rehearsal. 
 
 Lady Trevallion continued. " It always gives 
 me the greatest pain, if I cannot comply with 
 the wishes of my friends," said she, "the instant 
 I can divine them. In any thing else, my dear 
 Harriet, I should be only too happy to have it in 
 my power to oblige you. The slightest hint 
 shall be attended to.*' 
 
 " You remind me," said Lady Harriet, " of 
 a bravo, who told his victim that though the 
 laws of honour compelled him to cut his throat,
 
 THE MYSTIC. 245 
 
 in any thing else he should be very happy to 
 serve him," 
 
 " I cannot think, Lady Harriet, how you 
 can find any pleasure in travelling,'* remarked 
 Miss Trevallion ; " for, go where we will, you 
 never seem to wish to see any of the lions." 
 
 " My objects are men and manners," said 
 Lady Harriet ; " I like to study human beings 
 better than antiquities." 
 
 " I believe you," said Lady Trevallion, sig- 
 nificantly. 
 
 Lady Harriet was piqued, and she went on 
 rapidly; " I assure you that there is infinite 
 amusement in studying one's fellow creatures, 
 and I find that they may be easily arranged in 
 classes. There is the parrot genus; people 
 who, having no ideas of their own, are always 
 quoting those of others. Then there is the owl 
 genus ; those who shun the light of day to pore 
 over the darkness of antiquity ; and, lastly, there 
 is the cat kind, who gently pat their victims with 
 their soft paws, till they find an opportunity of 
 darting out their talons, and tearing them to 
 pieces."
 
 246 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Our dear Harriet has so much humour," 
 said Lady Trevallion, " it is quite delightful to 
 enjoy her society. I think you must be yourself 
 of the ape kind, my dear, for you really take off 
 every body that approaches you. Charming as 
 your wit is, however, you really must rein it in, 
 or we shall be all afraid of you." 
 
 The word " ape " grated ominously on Lady 
 Harriet's ear, but she did not reply ; and Lady 
 Trevallion proceeded ; " There is another reason 
 why I wish to stay. My late husband's cousin, 
 the Hon. General Trevallion, will be at Trieste 
 very shortly, and I should like to see him." 
 
 This information had its full weight with Lady 
 Harriet. The General was an English Catholic 
 in the service of Austria. He was a handsome 
 man about forty ; and, as rumovu' whispered that 
 he had amassed a considerable fortune by his 
 campaigns. Lady Harriet thought he might be a 
 tolerable speculation for her to aim at; at any 
 rate he was worth waiting for." 
 
 *' Are you sure that he is coming?" asked 
 she. 
 
 '' Signor Bernardi has had a letter from him
 
 THE MYSTIC. 24T 
 
 to say so. It is something about the Carbonari 
 that brings him. He is to suppress them, I 
 beheve." 
 
 Lady Harriet had not time to reply ; for at 
 this moment Agnes approached, and Lady 
 Trevallion flew to meet her with apparent 
 rapture. 
 
 " She is just the same to all the world," 
 thought Lady Harriet ; " though this poor girl 
 is doubtless so silly as to believe her." 
 
 Agnes, however, was not so silly; for her 
 penetration had enabled her to form a pretty 
 just estimate of her ladyship's character, and 
 she delighted to play off her foibles as much as 
 those, even of the Signora herself. She now came 
 by desire of Bernardi, (who wished to make the 
 agreeable to his guests) to invite the whole party 
 to visit the ruins of a Roman aqueduct in the 
 vicinity, to which they were to be escorted by 
 Ernest. They gladly assented, as they were 
 glad of any change ; and, as the distance was 
 short, they agreed to walk. 
 
 "Is the place worth seeing?'' asked Lady 
 Harriet.
 
 248 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Ca depend^' returned Agnes, laughing : 
 " but at any rate; evenif z^-'g enjoy ourselves, we 
 must not expect our beau to do so." 
 
 " And why not ? " 
 
 " Because he never condescends to be 
 amused, till he has ascertained, metaphysically, 
 whether he ought, as a philosopher, to be 
 pleased or not ; and he never goes into raptures 
 unless it be selon les regies.'' 
 
 " You wrong me, Mademoiselle Veroni," said 
 Ernest, coldly ; for he was mortified to find that, 
 from the moment of their half confidential inter- 
 view in Bernardi's study, she had avoided 
 speaking to him in private, except on one occa- 
 sion, when she had carefully ascertained how 
 much of the conversation in the garden he had 
 really heard. The moment she had done this 
 she left him, and they had not met again except 
 in company. Ernest was highly indignant at 
 this treatment, and he now wished to show his 
 anger by declining to converse with her, and by 
 treating her with the most perfect indifference. 
 She looked at him, however, with such a pro-
 
 THE MYSTIC. 249^ 
 
 yoking air of incredulity, that he was tempted, 
 in spite of his resolution, to go on. 
 
 " It is true, that before I give way to inordi- 
 nate enjoyment, I like to ascertain whether my 
 pleasure be founded in reason; but this, you 
 must allow, is the duty of every one, who even 
 pretends to the sacred name of philsopher." 
 
 " Then philosophers do sometimes enjoy in- 
 ordinately ? I was not aware of that." 
 
 " It is philosophy alone which can bestow in- 
 tense pleasure." 
 
 Agnes looked her want of comprehension. 
 
 " Here are two principles," continued Ernest, 
 " at everlasting war with each other in the 
 human frame — the intellectual powers, which 
 raise man almost to an equality with angels; 
 and the grosser earthly desires, that sink him 
 nearly to a level with the brutes. Happy are 
 they who can subdue the latter, and cultivate the 
 former ; for inasmuch as they are enabled to do 
 so, do they approximate to God." 
 
 " Pray explain yourself a little clearly, Signor. 
 Remember that I am very stupid, and can't un- 
 derstand, unless every thing is quite plain." 
 M 5
 
 250 STORIES OF A ERIDE. 
 
 " I mean that no enjoyments are real, unless 
 they are built on stable foundations, and are 
 supported by reason/' 
 
 " Granted ; but how does this apply to the 
 point in question ? '' 
 
 " For instance, I think it wrong to take plea- 
 sure in oral flattery ; as the applauses of the 
 world are of no value unless I feel that I deserve 
 them. When I am praised, therefore, I do not 
 allow myself to be pleased, till I am assured that 
 those who flatter me are acquainted with the 
 motives which have actuated my conduct, and 
 of course are able to judge accurately of its 
 merit. Actions are all the world can reason 
 from, as it cannot see the inward spirit which 
 impels them ; and, as that alone is the responsible 
 agent, it generally knows nothing of their real 
 value. It is thus, that what often appears bad 
 to the world, is the result of the most exalted 
 virtue, and what seems good is only hidden vice. 
 When sublime feelings and divine aspirations 
 fill the soul of man, his bosom glows with a 
 spirit not his own. A celestial fire spreads 
 through his veins, and every nerve thrills with
 
 THE MYSTIC. 251 
 
 rapture. What is then to him the opinion of 
 the whole world ? His judge is in his own 
 breast. He is lifted above the mean and paltry 
 jealousies of life. His eyes flash etherial light, 
 and his cheeks burn with devouring transport.'' 
 
 " Apropos de bottes,*' said Agnes. " What has 
 all this to do with my axiom, that it is right to 
 amuse oneself whenever there is an opportu- 
 nity ? " 
 
 " You are now flying from the question as well 
 as I, Mademoiselle Veroni. If I recollect rightly, 
 you accused me of reasoning before I ventured 
 to enjoy, and I was attempting to vindicate my- 
 self by proving, that all pleasures, even those 
 which appear mental (such as love of approba- 
 tion for instance), are only real inasmuch as 
 they are built upon stable foundations." 
 
 " For my part, I am not particular. I enjoy 
 this refreshing shade, par exemple, without wish- 
 ing to know why I do so ; nay, I tiiink that the 
 pleasure we feel in the contemplation of beau- 
 tiful objects is an aspiration of the soul after the 
 delights of its former existence. It longs to 
 assimilate itself with all that resembles its divine 
 
 origm 
 
 >»
 
 252 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Do you, then, believe," asked Ernest 
 eagerly, " the doctrine taught by some of the 
 Gnostics ; that the bodies of men are animated 
 by fallen angels destined to expiate their sins by 
 sojourning in mortal forms during an appointed 
 time, after which they will resume their original 
 stations in heaven ? " 
 
 " I believe no doctrines but those taught by 
 our holy mother church," returned Agnes, cross- 
 ing herself. 
 
 " Is it possible," inquired Miss Trevallion, 
 " that a mind so enlightened as yours can be a 
 slave to the superstitions of the Romish church?" 
 
 Agnes smiled. " I dare not presume to 
 argue with a lady so learned in all respects as 
 Miss Trevallion; but I have been brought up by 
 Catholics, and I believe what I have been taught; 
 nay more, I try to do my duty according to 
 what I believe." 
 
 " Would to heaven we could all say as much," 
 cried Lady Harriet; "but in our church, we 
 think believing quite enough." 
 
 " Pray let us change the subject," said Lady 
 Trevallion. *' I hate talking of religion. Laura,
 
 THE MYSTIC. 25S 
 
 you are generally very learned, can you tell us 
 nothing of Trieste ? " 
 
 Miss Trevallion was delighted to be so called 
 upon. 
 
 "Tregeste or Trengete," said she, "was a 
 Roman station, in the reign of the Emperor 
 Claudius, I believe ; though I am not quite cer- 
 tain whether it was Claudius or Nero : however 
 it was one of the emperors, Tm sure, and he was 
 either a very wicked, or a very good man.'* 
 
 " Never mind that, ray deal'," said Lady Har- 
 riet, laughing ; " You have informed us of a most 
 important fact, in stating that he was an em- 
 peror, and we are not so unreasonable as to 
 expect you to decide whether he was good or 
 bad. Alas ! we can't tell that of our contem- 
 poraries, hardly of ourselves. How, then, can 
 we expect to know anything certain of the moral 
 character of a man who lived 2000 years ago?" 
 
 " History tells — " 
 
 " Great fibs very often, I assure you. Re- 
 member, my dear, the fable about the picture 
 of a man killing a lion. If emperors were his- 
 torians, we might have some chance of knowing
 
 254 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 the truth; but the chroniclers of the times being 
 men, were, of course, possessed of human feel- 
 ingSy and spoke well of their patrons, and ill of 
 their oppressors. Lord help the sovereign who 
 had no taste for literature, for he had never the 
 least chance of making a figure in the eyes of 
 posterity ! " 
 
 " I am sure, then, if you had been an em- 
 peror, you would have had no chance." 
 
 "Not if you were my historian, my dear. 
 Voild a case in point ! But what is the matter 
 with Lady Trevallion ? Why do you look so 
 earnestly at that thicket, mia hella ? " 
 
 " Did you not see a man amongst the trees ? " 
 
 " A man ! what sort of one ? " asked Miss 
 Trevallion. 
 
 " He was tall, handsome, and martial-looking. 
 Ah ! there he is again ! " 
 
 " O Cupid, an adventure ! " cried Lady Har- 
 riet. '*^ Venus has heard my prayers, and has 
 sent this interesting stranger in answer to my 
 vows." 
 
 " He looks more like a captain of banditti 
 than a lover,'' said Miss Trevallion.
 
 THE MYSTIC. 255 
 
 " Better and better. You really have not a 
 particle of romance, Laura. Have you never 
 read Schiller's Robbers? Have you forgotten 
 the divine Karl ? " 
 
 They had now approached near enough for 
 the man to see them. He stood for a moment, 
 gazing on them earnestly, and a ferocious ex- 
 pression spreading over his fine features. Then, 
 with a movement of impatience, he plunged into 
 the wood. 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried Lady Harriet. " Georgine 
 himself could not have sported any thing finer 
 than that look. Unfortunately, however, he 
 does not seem smitten with any of us." 
 
 " How can you joke on such a subject ? '^ 
 said Miss Trevallion. " He looked as if he 
 could have eaten us. I never saw such a horrid 
 wretch in my life." 
 
 "I think him very handsome," observed Lady 
 Trevallion. 
 
 « So he is," rejoined Lady Harriet, "and very 
 like Mademoiselle Veroni. He has just the 
 same noble brow, finely arched eye-brows, and
 
 256 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Grecian nose. They must have been both 
 formed in the same mould, depend upon it.'* 
 
 " It seems a long way to these antiquities, 
 Signor Ernest," said Lady Trevallion ; " are you 
 sure that we are right ? '' 
 
 " I believe so," returned Ernest, hesitatingly ; 
 for he fancied that he had recognized the myste- 
 rious stranger, in the supposed bandit, and he 
 had become so absorbed in meditation, that he 
 had lost his way. 
 
 "Good heavens! do you only believe?" 
 shrieked her ladyship. 
 
 Agnes laughed. '' Your ladyship must ex- 
 cuse him," said she ; " philosophers are never 
 expected to possess much local knowledge ; for 
 how can they be supposed to notice earthly ob- 
 jects, whose thoughts are always fixed upon 
 things above ; thus it is quite natural that a piii- 
 losopher should prove a wretched guide; and I 
 predict that we shall soon be quite lost in the 
 mazes of this wood." 
 
 " It is only another adventure," cried Lady 
 Harriet, gaily ; as, after wandering some hours.
 
 THE MYSTIC. 25T 
 
 Agnes* prediction was verified, and they could 
 neither discover the antiquities; nor (which 
 under existing circumstances was of infinitely 
 more consequence) the road home. 
 
 " I am tired and hungry-," said Miss Tre- 
 vallion. 
 
 " Fie, my dear ! " continued Lady Harriet ; 
 " philosophers, male and female, ought all to be 
 superior to such trifling inconveniences. If you 
 want a seat, however, look — here is the trunk 
 of a fallen tree ! not sawn and felled by any 
 common-place, mechanical method; but torn 
 up by the roots, most probably in a thunder- 
 storm. Can any thing be more picturesque? 
 and then, as to food, I dare say we shall find 
 some pig-nuts." 
 
 " How can you laugh at such a situation ? 
 But it is just like you ! " 
 
 " Then I am consistent, at any rate." 
 
 " You did not care about the antiquities ; 
 you only came with us because you wanted a 
 change." 
 
 " So far, I was wiser than you ; for I have 
 got what I wanted, which you have not."
 
 258 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " I am very sorry," stammered Ernest ; " I 
 am quite ashamed." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself about it, Signor," 
 cried Lady Harriet. " For my part, I am 
 delighted. Two adventures in one day. I de- 
 clare we are quite fortunate. We have now 
 only to fancy that we are acting the parts of 
 full grown babies in the wood, and it will be 
 really enchanting." 
 
 " Pray speak for yourself. Lady Harriet," 
 said Lady Trevallion. " I find our situation 
 any thing but delightful." 
 
 " I am surprised to hear it. I thought your 
 ladyship admired the banditti captain, at any 
 rate." 
 
 " There he is again," said Agnes. 
 
 Ernest turned, ^nd saw with astonishment 
 that it was really the stranger of the forest. He 
 was now dressed in a handsome hussar uniform, 
 and instead of shunning the party as he had 
 done before, he advanced to meet them with an 
 air of graciousness. As he approached, how- 
 ever, he contrived to make a sign of secrecy to 
 Ernest; who in return received him as a
 
 THE MYSTIC. 259 
 
 " Can I be of any assistance to you ? " said the 
 officer, addressing Lady Trevallion in very good 
 English : " though nearly a stranger to this 
 neighbourhood, I have already acquainted my- 
 self with its localities, as I have spent nearly all 
 my time in the open air." 
 
 " Then I presume you are an artist, Sir ? " 
 said Agnes, affecting an air o^ naivete. " This 
 spot abounds in picturesque landscapes/' 
 
 Ernest looked at her as she spoke, and fancied 
 that she blushed ; she certainly turned from his 
 eye, and his interest in the stranger was in- 
 stantly increased ten-fold. 
 
 In the mean time, the stranger had acknow- 
 ledged Agnes* conjecture to be correct. " I 
 was a soldier," added he; addressing the Eng- 
 lish ladies, " but now, as your sublime poet ex- 
 presses it : 
 
 '* Othello's occupation is no more." 
 
 " You say otir poet," observed Miss Treval- 
 lion ; " How did you know us to be English ? " 
 
 " 1 read it in your countenances," said he; 
 " for beauty has long marked your favoured isle 
 as her abode."
 
 260 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Our accent giving some little help to your 
 discernment," remarked Lady Harriet. 
 
 "Pray, Sir," asked Lady Trevallion, "can 
 you direct us to Signor Bernardi's villa ? " 
 
 " I shall be most happy to conduct you 
 thither : I know it well, as it has often formed 
 an object of my sketches, but I can guide you 
 there, better than describe how you are to find 
 it, as I am unacquainted with the names of the 
 places." 
 
 As the stranger appeared perfectly the gen- 
 tleman, and had even the air distingue of high 
 birth, Lady Trevallion did not hesitate to ac- 
 cept this offer, nor did she refuse the arm prof- 
 fered by her new acquaintance. He appeared 
 about forty; he was tall and strikingly handsome, 
 but there was something rather insidious in his 
 smile, and his dark eyes and eye-brows seemed 
 formed occasionally to express the fiercer pas- 
 sions. His voice, though deep, was peculiarly 
 mellow, and modulated with the greatest nice- 
 ness. Ernest looked alternately at him and at 
 Agnes ; but there was not the slightest indica- 
 tion to be perceived that they had ever met be-
 
 THE MYSTIC. 261 
 
 fore ; and it was no trifling mark of the defect 
 of Ernest's moral taste, that though he sus- 
 pected this to be false, he admired, instead of 
 condemning, the perfection which Agnes showed 
 in dissimulation. A storm was now coming on. 
 The branches of the trees tossed to and fro like 
 the billows of the ocean, and the wind rushed 
 like a mighty river along the vast plains of Car- 
 niola, to fall, with the force of a roaring cata- 
 ract, down the mountain behind the town, 
 sweeping every thing before it. These land 
 winds which infest Trieste, are nearly as tre- 
 mendous as the tornadoes of the West Indies ; 
 and the hapless antiquity hunters could scarcely 
 contrive to struggle against their fury. Agnes 
 clung closely to Ernest, one of whose arms she 
 held ; and, as the hope, that she did not think 
 him quite intolerable, again crossed his mind, 
 he felt happy, notwithstanding the violence of 
 the tempest. The storm was, however, tremen- 
 dous. When they approached the sea, they 
 saw it heaving in frightful billows, as though 
 " the fountains of the great deep " were again 
 broken up ; flaming arrows of lightning darted
 
 262 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 through the dark thick sky ; and howling winds, 
 and crashing thunder mingled with the roar of 
 the raging ocean. Not a drop of rain had yet 
 fallen ; but nature seemed struggling with con- 
 vulsive pain, and groaning to express her suf- 
 ferings. No one uttered a single syllable ; for a 
 sense of common danger pervaded the whole 
 party, and the awe inspired by the conflicting 
 elements made them feel far too much to speak. 
 
 At length they reached the villa, and they 
 had scarcely entered the portico, ere the rain 
 burst from the clouds, like the breaking of a 
 water-spout. Common politeness forbade that 
 the guide who had saved them from the torrent, 
 should be himself exposed to its fury ; and Lady 
 Trevallion felt that she could not avoid asking 
 the stranger in. 
 
 " But," added she, " as I am here only a 
 guest, under what name shall I present you to 
 my hostess ? " 
 
 "I am a Pole by birth," returned the 
 stranger : " and am called Palovitz ; to which 
 add the title of Count." 
 
 " I read high birth stamped on his features,"
 
 THE MYSTIC. 263 
 
 thought Lady Harriet, as she stept lightly into 
 the hall of the villa ; and nice observers might 
 have suspected, from the expression of her 
 countenance, that it was not quite impossible, 
 that in process of time, she would perhaps be 
 prevailed upon to become a Countess, if the 
 Count should prove inclined to become a rival 
 of the expected General.
 
 264 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Has thy heart sickened with deferred hope, 
 Or felt the impatient anguish of suspense ? 
 
 Or hast thou tasted of the l>itter cup 
 
 That disappointment's withered hands dispense ? 
 
 Spencer. 
 
 It is scarcely in the power of language to de- 
 scribe the feverish impatience with which Ernest 
 listened to the common-place nothings that passed 
 between the English ladies and the Count, whom 
 he was provoked to find quite the polished man 
 of the world. He was indeed one who had lived 
 much in Courts, who knew the human heart, 
 and who was a perfect master in the art of flat- 
 tery. The latter talent is always the key to 
 power, but there are few who know how to use 
 it properly ; for flattery, like sugar, though de- 
 lightful to give a flavour, is sickening when 
 taken to excess. The Count, however, knew
 
 THE MYSTIC. 265 
 
 how to administer it with the utmost skill, and 
 he contrived to make himself so generally agree- 
 able, that he received an earnest invitation from 
 the Signora to repeat his visit. 
 
 When the storm abated, he took his leave ; 
 and Ernest, who had waited his departure in a 
 state nearly approaching to agony, followed him 
 to the door. 
 
 " The time is not yet come, young man," 
 said the Count, waving his hand for him to re- 
 tire; " when it is, j'oii shall hear from me." 
 
 Ernest shrank back abashed. 
 
 " This morning," resumed the Count, " I 
 would fain have spoken to you alone, but it was 
 decreed otherwise,- and I now find that all is for 
 the best. You will see me soon again ; till then 
 adieu. Be secret, and glory is in store." 
 
 So saying, he walked away, leaving Ernest in 
 a state of rapture ; for this mystery seemed to 
 promise that his wildest dreams would be rea- 
 lized, and, though he knew not what he was ex- 
 pected to perform, he was ready to undertake 
 any thing. When he returned to the family 
 party, however, his joy was a little damped by 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 the evident depression of Agnes, whose eyes he 
 observed filled with tears, whenever she looked 
 at him. She did not join in any of the praises 
 which the other ladies lavished on the Count ; 
 and she sighed deeply when she saw the deep- 
 ened glow upon the cheek of Ernest, at the re- 
 petition of his name. 
 
 Bernardi did not return till evening, and 
 when he was informed of the visit of the Polish 
 nobleman, it appeared to excite considerable 
 emotion in his breast; he exchanged glances 
 with his friend Albert, who had accompanied 
 him home, and they immediately retired to hold 
 a private conference. 
 
 The townspeople of Trieste had lately been 
 kept in a state of continual alarm, on account 
 of the Carbonari; and, as Bernardi and Albert 
 were two of the principal burghers of the place, 
 they considered it as part of their duty to inves- 
 tigate every occurrence which seemed out of the 
 usual routine ; in addition to which, like most 
 persons in similar situations, they were disposed 
 to give as much consequence as possible to every 
 thing that came in their way.
 
 THE MYSTIC. 267 
 
 The violent revolutions which had lately con- 
 vulsed Europe, had unsettled the minds of men, 
 and they fancied that they longed for liberty ; 
 though, if they had been required to define what 
 they wanted, they might have replied, like the 
 English radical ; who, being asked what he 
 meant by reform, said, " No work, and high 
 wages." An answer which, I suspect, fully ex- 
 presses what is generally the sole feeling of a 
 mob. 
 
 The ideas of the continental liberals, however, 
 differed from those of the English radicals in one 
 important respect; for the former were all tyrants 
 in their hearts; and, not satisfied with mere sen- 
 sual enjoyment, they panted to govern instead of 
 serve, their most sublime notions of justice, equa- 
 lity, and liberty, going no further than to make 
 them wish, that those who had been oppressed 
 should now have an opportunity of oppressing ; 
 and, indeed, there is always this material differ- 
 ence between the English, and the inhabitants 
 of most other countries, upon occasions of popu- 
 lar insurrection. Under despotic monarchs, the 
 military are constantly at hand to preserve or- 
 N 2
 
 268 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 der ; and the power of the government is con- 
 sequently felt by all classes upon the most trivial 
 occasions ; for instance, if a man keep his hat on 
 at a theatre, even in France, he may be dragged 
 out by one of the gens d'armes, 8cc. In England, 
 on the contrary, the government rarely interferes 
 6ut in affairs of moment, where even the people 
 feel that it is in the right. When an English mob 
 therefore becomes riotous, it is only for some 
 temporary grievance; and, when ^^«^ is removed, 
 they are quieted, for they have no vindictive 
 feelings against their superiors to gratify, and 
 no personal insults to revenge. The case is 
 quite otherwise on the Continent ; for, as the 
 canaille there fancy that they are oppressed, and 
 treated cruelly, the moment that they obtain 
 power they become cruel in return. 
 
 At this period, Constitutions were all the 
 rage; nations changed them as a lady would 
 her gowns, and thought it equally disgraceful to 
 be without a new one. The government of 
 Austria was vehemently opposed to these inno- 
 vations ; but the King of Naples had just been 
 temporizing with his subjects, a measure always
 
 THE MYSTIC. 269 
 
 unwise, as men submit more readily even to ty- 
 ranny than insincerity. Half measures give the 
 discontented strength, whilst they depress the 
 loyal. A king should either give freely, or posi- 
 tively refuse ; for partial concessions, yielded re- 
 luctantly, naturally engender fresh hopes ; and, 
 when that passion has once taken root in the 
 breast, it is dangerous to eradicate it. The King 
 of Naples wished to please all parties, and of 
 course, he satisfied none. The Sicilians rose 
 against him, and rebellion, like a gangrene, was 
 spreading fast through Italy to Istria. 
 
 When these circumstances are taken into 
 consideration, it will not appear astonishing that 
 the good burghers of Trieste were kept in a 
 state of constant alarm. The late massacre at 
 Palermo, and the rapid success of Pepe, had 
 paralyzed the defenders of legitimacy ; whilst 
 the hesitation of the Emperor of Austria, who 
 refused to act till he had consulted with his 
 royal colleagues, gave strength to the insurgents. 
 Most of the Carbonari (for under that generic 
 name were ranged all the radicals of the Conti- 
 nent) had been too long soldiers of Napoleon,
 
 270 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 not to be aware of the importance of decision. 
 They had seen their master, supported princi- 
 pally by his own unbending will, sweep, like a 
 mighty whirlwind, through Europe, levelling all 
 before him ; and, as they hoped to follow in the 
 same track, their aim was to strike a blow which 
 might stun the Austrian government, and give 
 them time to complete their operations ere it 
 recovered from the shock. 
 
 The visit of Count Palovitz seemed to excite 
 a powerful interest in the two burghers, and the 
 two following days were spent by Bernardi en- 
 tirely in town. The Count called again at the 
 villa the second day ; and, as the family were 
 just going to dinner, the Signora asked him to 
 join the party. He readily complied, and ex- 
 erted all his powers of fascination to make the 
 time pass agreeably. Indeed, he told so many 
 amusing anecdotes, and sang a variety of songs, 
 accompanying himself on the guitar, that Er- 
 nest, as he listened, could scarcely believe him 
 to be the same person as the stranger of the 
 forest; though this versatility, by increasing 
 the mystery which hung over him, increased his
 
 THE MYSTIC. 2T1 
 
 power over the Mystic's mind. He waited anx- 
 iously, in the hope that the Count would give 
 some sign to intimate his wish to speak to him 
 alone ; but in vain, and he did not again ven- 
 ture to address him unsummoned. 
 
 Agnes looked at Ernest, mournfully, while he 
 was thus intently occupied in observing the 
 Count ; and, as his eyes chanced to meet her's, 
 he was startled with the sadness of their expres- 
 sion. 
 
 "Are you ill, dear Agnes ? " said he. 
 
 " Perhaps Mademoiselle has taken cold," ob- 
 served the Count, looking at Agnes, sternly. 
 
 " Very likely," said Lady Harriet ; " I have 
 remarked that she has not appeared well since 
 our adventure in the forest." 
 
 " There, Mademoiselle Veroni," cried the 
 Count, " do you hear the charge that is brought 
 against you ? What have you to say to it ? " 
 
 " Simply that it is true. I did take cold in 
 the forest, and 1 now feel far from well. I 
 should make a bad heroine, for I find adven- 
 tures don't agree with me." 
 
 There was nothing in this to excite attention
 
 272 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 generally; but Ernest remarked, that Agnes 
 could scarcely restrain her tears as she spoke. 
 
 The Count retired soon after, and Agnes, 
 pleading a head-ache, scarcely spoke during the 
 remainder of the evening. 
 
 o 
 
 Though Bernard! always carefully avoided 
 speaking of politics to his family, it was impos- 
 sible that the inhabitants of the villa should re- 
 main entirely ignorant of the fears which agi- 
 tated the town ; particularly, as father Raphael 
 was their constant visitor. The worthy father, 
 indeed, almost lived on the abundant rumours 
 which he contrived to pick up. Never before 
 had he reaped such an harvest, and no story 
 was too strange to be believed ; as the changes 
 which had lately convulsed Europe were too 
 wonderful to make any thing seem improbable. 
 Conversations, therefore, naturally took place on 
 the father's tales ; and in these. Lady Harriet 
 was always on the side of government, while 
 Ernest defended liberalism; her ladyship was 
 energetic, and Ernest endiusiastic. They were 
 thus debating warmly upon the subject, when 
 Bernardi arrived from the town, the day follow-
 
 THE MYSTIC. ^73 
 
 ing that of the visit of the Count. All eagerly 
 crowded round him, and asked the news. 
 
 " Only that the Carbonari are determined to 
 make us free against our wills," said he. 
 
 Lady Harriet laughed. " Such," said she, "are 
 always the ideas of the liberals; they cannot 
 even conceive free agency, though they talk so 
 much about it. Force must do every thing." 
 
 " But does not your soul kindle at the thought 
 of liberty ? " asked Ernest ; " does not your 
 mind instinctively revolt at tyranny ? " 
 
 " I did not know that philosophers believed 
 in the instinctive operation of the mind," said 
 Lady Harriet, drily : " I thought that they 
 would not allow us ever to act without a cause." 
 
 " I was wrong to use the word instinctively, 
 with relation to the mind," returned Ernest; 
 " the mind always acts upon reflection, and it 
 is only the emotions of the body that are in- 
 stinctive. The man whose mind is bent upon 
 self destruction, often finds his body shrink in- 
 voluntarily from the murderous agent which 
 his will has determined to employ." 
 
 "Your distinctions are too subtle for me," 
 N 5
 
 274 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 said Bernardi ; " I thought that the mind and 
 body had been so intimately connected diat one 
 could not act without the other." 
 
 " They are connected," replied Ernest, " so 
 intimately, that it is only when long abstinence 
 and severe study have sublimized the spirit, that 
 it is sufficiently separated from the body, to be- 
 come sensible of the divine influences which 
 continually float around it : dien it is," con- 
 tinued the youthful enthusiast, his eyes flashing 
 fire, and his colour rising to a deep and settled 
 glow, " that men become elevated nearly to the 
 rank of angels ! then, they spurn the dross of 
 this vulgar earth ; they despise the opinions of 
 the multitude ; and, guided only by the glorious 
 dictates of really exalted virtue, they act nobly, 
 solely from the impulses of their own hearts." 
 
 A deep sigh from Agnes electrified Ernest 
 at the end of his speech. He looked at her with 
 astonishment. 
 
 " I think the observation that the Count made 
 yesterday, about Mademoiselle Veroni's heaUh, 
 seems quite correct," said Lady Trevallion. 
 
 " The Count made yesterday ! " reiterated
 
 THE MYSTIC. 275 
 
 Bernardi. " What ! has that Polish adventurer 
 been here again ? " 
 
 " Polish adventurer ! " repeated the ladies, in 
 different tones of astonishment. 
 
 " Nay, nay," said Bernardi, laughing, " I 
 meant no offence ; only I think he is a brave 
 man, that's all.'' 
 
 " Why do you think so ? " asked Agnes, anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " Is it not an act of bravery to encounter so 
 many bright eyes ? " returned Bernardi, gaily. 
 
 Agnes looked dissatisfied. 
 
 " I am afraid you don't set a proper value on 
 your own charms," continued he ; "I long to 
 see this hero. Pray which of you has he fallen 
 in love with ? " 
 
 " I have asked him to dine with us again, the 
 day after to-morrow^," said the Signora ; " and 
 tlien you will be able to judge." 
 
 " The day after to-morrow ! That is admira- 
 ble ! " cried Bernardi ; " nothing can be more 
 fortunate, for I expect an English gentleman to 
 dine here, the day after to-morrow ; a relation 
 of Lady Trevallion's : " bowing to that lady.
 
 276 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Is he arrived, then ? '* exclaimed Lady Har- 
 riet, eagerly. 
 
 " And who is this mysterious he ? " asked 
 Agnes, " si la domanda e lecitar 
 
 " Don't tell her, Lady Harriet," said Ber- 
 nardi ; " her curiosity deserves to be punished." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Ernest, " he may be a lover, 
 and then — 
 
 *' The names of lovers e'er should rest 
 Enshrined wltliin the faithful breast ; 
 Like precious relics kept with care, 
 And never uttered but in prayer." 
 
 " That is from Camoens," cried Miss Tre- 
 vallion. " I remember the Portuguese lines." 
 
 " Oh ! for Heaven's sake don't quote Portu- 
 guese ! " cried Lady Trevallion, in alarm. 
 
 " Never mind, Laura," said Lady Harriet, 
 laughing at Miss Trevalhon's look of disap- 
 pointment. "You can go and tell it to the woods, 
 you know. By the way, perhaps, one reason 
 that poets are so fond of the country is, because 
 trees make such charming auditors; they never 
 find flmlt, and they never interrupt, which is the 
 perftction of a listener ; for I think that a ge-
 
 THE MYSTIC. 277 
 
 nuine poet likes silent attention (provided always 
 that his hearers be not asleep) better than even 
 exclamations of rapture." 
 
 " I can hardly fancy that," said Agnes ; " I 
 thought praise was the poet's food, and that it 
 was as necessary to him, as beef and mutton to 
 an Englishman, or theatrical amusements to a 
 Frenchman." 
 
 " You forget that even praises interrupt, and 
 a thorough-bred poet likes to hear no one so 
 well as himself. You have no idea, I assure 
 you, Mademoiselle Veroni, of the engrossing 
 nature of authorship ; a man's works are the 
 children of his mind, and we all know how par- 
 tial parents are to their offspring." 
 
 " Who does Lady Harriet say she is partial 
 to?" asked the Signora; who, as the conver- 
 sation was carried on in English, was not quite 
 au fait as to all that was said. 
 
 " To herself, and her own wit," said Lady 
 Trevallion, bitterly ; " that is, if she has any." 
 
 " My dear Adela," exclaimed Lady Harriet, 
 " I have just discovered why you indulge now 
 and then in a few gentle, sisterlv admonitions.
 
 278 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Ill-nature is the only thing that gives expression 
 to your features ; and, as piquancy is the soul 
 of beauty " 
 
 " Your ladyship ought to be the most lovely 
 creature in existence," cried Agnes; " as your 
 countenance is all animation." 
 
 Agnes' attempt to avert the coming storm 
 was perfectly successful. The compliment to 
 Lady Harriet was judicious, as that lady prided 
 herself in her animation ; and a little equally 
 well applied flattery to Lady Trevaliion, upon 
 her skill in playing on the harp, with a prayer 
 that the party might be favoured with some of 
 her heavenly harmony, appeased her anger. 
 After the music, however, Ernest was surprised 
 to hear Agnes revert to the expected stranger. 
 " She was not wont to be so curious," thought 
 he, and a feeling of incipient jealousy made him 
 listen with attention. 
 
 <' Is he young or old ? '' asked she : " handsome 
 or ugly ? " 
 
 " Old enough to appreciate beauty, yet 
 young enough to admire it," returned Lady 
 Harriet ; " and handsome enough to please, yet
 
 THE MYSTIC. 279 
 
 not so much so as to make him consider it his 
 sole attraction." 
 
 " And his name is " 
 
 " A secret.'' 
 
 Agnes looked disappointed, and after a pause 
 Lady Harriet continued : " Come, come, I will 
 not be ill-natured ; a fellow-feeling, you know, 
 makes one wondrous kind; and, as Signor Ber- 
 nardi is gone, (frightened away, I may suppose 
 en passant, by Adela's music,) I will tell you that 
 the expected gentleman is General Trevallion." 
 
 Agnes' colour changed; she became as pale 
 as death; she was evidently near fainting; but 
 with a violent eiFort she controuled herself, and 
 endeavoured to ask, carelessly, if the General 
 were not in the service of Austria? Lady 
 Harriet answered in the affirmative, and Airnes 
 immediately left the room. 
 
 " What can be the cause of her emotion," 
 thought Ernest; ''and why should she wish to 
 know so many particulars about a man whom she 
 has never seen ? Perhaps she has seen him how- 
 ever. It is very likely that he may have been at 
 Paris ; that cursed city has been the rendez-
 
 280 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 vous of all the world: I can't think what could 
 induce Veroni to place his daughter there." 
 
 Whilst Ernest was thus meditating, Bernard! 
 hastily re-entered the room, with an open letter 
 in his hand. 
 
 " Pray," asked he abruptly, " Where does 
 your Polish friend reside ?" 
 
 " He said he had taken lodgings in a cottage 
 on the road to Laybach," returned the Signora. 
 
 " What reason did he assign for not living in 
 the town ? " 
 
 " A wish to enjoy the pure air and picturesque 
 scenery." 
 
 Bernardi made some memoranda on his paper, 
 and was going to ask more questions, wlien he 
 was stopped by Lady Harriet. 
 
 " My dear Signor," cried she, affecting alarm, 
 " you really look quite awful with that ])aper 
 and pencil in your hand ; you absolutely give me 
 the idea of a grand inquisitor taking notes." 
 
 '* In these times of danger, it is necessary to 
 inquire carefully respecting strangers." 
 
 " Times of danger ! I declare, Signor, you are 
 a perfect alarmist ; you remind me amazingly of
 
 THE MYSTIC. 281 
 
 some of our English demagogues, who prove 
 every year to demonstration, that the kingdom 
 cannot exist another session, though it goes on 
 and flourishes (out of pure spite, I beheve,) just 
 as well as if they had never troubled their wise 
 heads about it." 
 
 " But thinijs are verv different on the conti- 
 nent to what they are in England," said Lady 
 Trevallion ; " and though you, Harriet, may 
 make light of the subject, Signor Bernardi has 
 terrified me almost to death." 
 
 " I wish he would make light of his mysterious 
 paper by throwing it into the fire," rejoined 
 Lady Harriet. 
 
 "A pun ! a pun !" cried Miss Trevallion; 
 " Lady Harriet has been guilty of a pun." 
 
 " It was not a very brilliant one though," re- 
 sumed that lady ; " for I am not like you, ma 
 chere; I do not like to sport words unless they 
 are accompanied by ideas. But, to return to the 
 alarmists, they always remind me exactly of the 
 frogs flying away from their King Log." 
 
 " It is very well for your ladyship to jest upon 
 the subject," said Bernardi, gravely; "as it is
 
 282 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 many ages since your happy country felt the 
 miseries of civil war, but we tremble for our 
 household gods." 
 
 "Do you, indeed," exclaimed Miss Trevallion. 
 " Well now, that is very curious ; I declare I 
 had no idea that the Dii Penates were still 
 worshipped any where; I thought that the feast 
 of Bacchus, in Lombardy, had been the only 
 rite of Paganism still practised in Southern 
 Europe." 
 
 " I only spoke metaphorically," said Bernardi, 
 " and meant, that both our property and lives 
 will be in danger, if the Carbonari succeed in 
 their designs. In these times we cannot be too 
 careful, and Signora Bernardi was very wrong 
 to invite a stranger." 
 
 " Aye, I thought so ; you are sure to find out 
 that every thing is wrong that I either do or 
 say," said the lady, pettishly. 
 
 " Man and wife are one," returned Bernardi, 
 " and it is not polite to praise oneself." 
 
 "I suppose that is the reason then," cried 
 Lady Harriet, "that men are always finding 
 fault with their wives ; and so, what is generally
 
 THE MYSTIC. 
 
 thought peevishness, turns out to be only mo- 
 desty." 
 
 " The Mahometans believed that one of the 
 curses entailed upon the descendants of Eve — " 
 began Miss Trevallion. 
 
 " My dear Laura, pray don't inflict the whole 
 Koran upon us," exclaimed Lady Trevallion. 
 
 " I only intended to quote one passage." 
 
 " But don't you perceive, my dear," said 
 Lady Harriet, " that Lady Trevallion is so well 
 aware of your inquiring mind, that she sup- 
 poses you resemble the great naturalist ; who, 
 when he is asked to take fish at dinner, deli- 
 vers a lecture upon ichthyology, from the whale 
 downwards, by way of reply." 
 
 Ernest had no taste for this badinage, and left 
 the room to wander in his favourite grove. It 
 was getting dark, but there was just light enough 
 to enable him to see the figure of Agnes flitting 
 through the trees. He watched her earnestly, 
 and saw her take the road to Laybach ! Sud- 
 denly a ray of light darted through his mind. 
 She was going to the Count. It was for him, 
 then, that she was anxious; for he probably had
 
 284 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 some reason to fear meeting the General, and she 
 was going to warn him. Ernest recollected the 
 look of intelligence that he had fancied passed 
 between them when they first met; her blushes, 
 her distress, and the rage of jealousy took pos- 
 session of his breast : " I will be revenged," 
 thought he ; and, maddening with passion, he 
 followed her steps. The night was tempestu- 
 ous, and painful feelings oppressed the mind of 
 Ernest as he rapidly followed the light figure 
 which glided before him. " Agnes generally 
 possesses so much self-command," thought he, 
 " that only some powerful motive could have 
 occasioned such agitation. It must be love ? " 
 
 Fierce as the woiuided war-horse, he started 
 at the word, but he could not fly from the pain 
 it inflicted, for the barbed arrow rankled in his 
 heart. "Yes," thought he, "it must be so; 
 she loves him, that is the sole key to explain 
 die mystery ; " and this idea took such forcible 
 possession of his mind that he had great diffi- 
 culty in persuading himself not to overtake and 
 upbraid her. He soon, however, became more 
 calm. " It is very strange," thought he, " that
 
 THE MYSTIC. 285 
 
 I should feel so indignant with Agnes because 
 she is in love witli the Count. She neither is, 
 nor ever can be any thing to me. She is too 
 frivolous, too gay ; and our tempers do not ac- 
 cord. In fact, I find that I am not formed for 
 the world. I had once pictured to myself the 
 delights of mutual affection ; but alas ! my 
 hopes have vanished into air. A creature, such 
 as I could love, would be too pure for this life." 
 Agnes rapidly mounted the hill, and pro- 
 ceeded at a quick pace along the table-land 
 which spreads from its top. From this spot 
 there is a complete change in the landscape. 
 Barren rocks, and abrupt precipices, usurp the 
 place of gentle slopes and verdant valleys ; and 
 the country now looked particularly wild and 
 desolate, as it was only partially illumed by long 
 stripes of lightning that occasionally streamed 
 through the sky, leaving the succeeding dark- 
 ness more intense, whilst thunder growled in 
 the distance, and added to the gloom of the 
 scene. Ernest closely followed his unconscious 
 guide, and they soon reached a withered oak, 
 which stood stretching its massy limbs wide o'er
 
 286 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 the plain, a melancholy emblem of fallen great- 
 ness. These bare gigantic limbs, strongly re- 
 lieved by the grey sky beyond, seemed to 
 Ernest^s heated imagination to resemble the 
 arms of a fearfid spectre placed there to warn 
 him from the spot. He shuddered, and paus- 
 ing, felt reluctant to advance. The next instant, 
 however, he recovered himself, and rushed for- 
 ward ; but Agnes had disappeared ; he looked 
 wildly round ; a voice seemed to speak in the 
 storm, and, as the lightning flashed from side to 
 side illuminating the barren crags and deep 
 sunk valles, he fancied he saw a thousand hide- 
 ous forms dancing on the summits of the rock. 
 His own long hair streamed in the blast, and, as 
 he saw its reflection in the flashing light, he fan- 
 cied himself pursued by phantoms ; he rushed 
 on, and had nearly fallen into the entrance of 
 an old lime-pit, when he was roused by the 
 sound of voices ; he paused and listened, but 
 his fears were not verified, for the companion 
 of Agnes was Veroni, and not the Count ! 
 
 Ashamed of again intruding on a secret in- 
 terview between a father and his child, and re-
 
 THE MYSTIC. 28T 
 
 joiced to find his jealous suspicions groundless, 
 Ernest drew back, and slowly retraced his steps 
 to the villa, vowing in the fervour of his repen- 
 tance, when they next met, to consider the Count 
 as a bosom friend, and never to doubt Aornes
 
 288 STORIES OF A IJRIDE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 Metliinks I should not thus repine, 
 If I had but one vow of thine ; 
 I could forgive inconstancy, 
 One moment to be loved by thee. 
 
 L. E. L. 
 
 The following morning Ernest arose, after 
 a sleepless night, with tlie appalling conviction 
 that he was v iolently in love with Agnes ; and 
 appalling indeed the thought was, to his philoso- 
 phic mind; for he more than half suspected she 
 would laugh at him unmercifully the moment 
 he confessed his folly. " Any thing, however, 
 is better than suspense," iliought he ; " and the 
 worst she can make me suffer cannot surpass 
 what I endure by anticipation." 
 
 Encouraged by this idea he sought Agnes, 
 and finding her as usual in her favourite study, 
 he desperately declared his passion. Agnes 
 heard him coolly, and her composed demeanour
 
 THE MYSTIC. 289 
 
 offered a strong contrast to the violent agitation 
 of Ernest. When he had finished, 
 
 " I am not surprised at what you tell me," 
 said she ; " to say truth, I have long ex- 
 pected it, for I have long seen that you loved 
 me. Perhaps, indeed, as women are proverbially 
 quick-sighted in these affairs, I knew of your 
 passion before you were aware of it yourself; or, 
 perhaps," continued she, looking down, and 
 blushing, " I only fancied what I wished ; at 
 any rate, I do not scruple to acknowledge that 
 I — I feel an interest in your welfare (her voice, 
 here, became so low as to be almost inaudible), 
 and that — that in happier times; — but it is use- 
 less to talk thus," continued she, evidently mak- 
 ing a violent effort to suppress her feelings ; 
 — " this is not a moment to mention love. The 
 political horizon is already dark with the ap- 
 proaching storm ; and, when it comes, we may 
 be the first to fall victims to its fury ! " 
 
 " Dearest Agnes," said Ernest, (severely mor- 
 tified at her coolness,) " why sully the bright- 
 ness of the present hour by gloomy anticipations 
 of the future, which may never be realized ? The 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 k90 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 Storm you speak of exists only in your own highly- 
 excited imagination ; and, even if it were real, 
 why must it destroy us ? " 
 
 " Would to Heaven that the storm did exist 
 only in my imagination, or that we were safe 
 from its violence ! But, alas ! I fear we shall 
 both perish. Ernest, I will no longer conceal 
 from you, that my father pretended to join the 
 Greeks merely to hide his real views ; and that 
 he is joined with the Count in projects which I 
 fear—" 
 
 The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps 
 made her pause ; but Ernest had already heard 
 enough, and he determined, if possible, that he 
 also would join in the projects of the Count. He 
 neither knew nor cared about the nature of their 
 designs; all he thought of was, that by joining 
 his fortunes to those of the father of Agnes, he 
 should form a link that would unite her to him- 
 self; and he felt that a prison, shared with her, 
 was preferable to a palace without her. 
 
 Ernest had scarcely made this lover-like dis- 
 covery, when the Signora entered the room, 
 and he hastily retreated, with ample subject for
 
 THE MYSTIC. 291 
 
 meditation. In the solitude of his own chamber, 
 however, when he calmly reviewed what had 
 passed, he was by no means satisfied; and he 
 could not determine whether Agnes returned 
 his passion or not. She was too cool, too ra- 
 tional ; and, as he walked up and down his room, 
 in feverish agitation, he could not help exclaim- 
 inor to himself, " She has no idea of love ! She 
 has no soul ! She feels an interest in my wel- 
 fare I — How poor ; hov/ tame ! Oh what would 
 I not give that she could love as I do ! But she 
 is incapable ! " The next moment, however, he 
 repented his heresy ; and, kneeling down, kissed 
 devoutly a knot of ribbon which Agnes had worn 
 in her hair. He recollected the day when he 
 had become possessed of this treasure; he re- 
 called her look, her manner ; and his heart felt 
 softened. The reminiscence was happy for 
 Agnes' power over his affections ; for this was 
 one of the few occasions where she had permit- 
 ted her feelings to subdue her gaiet}% A poor 
 woman, the wife of one of the labourers in the 
 salt-works at some distance from the town, had 
 heard that her imsband had been seriously in- 
 o 2
 
 292 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 jured by an accidental fall, whilst carrying a 
 heavy load; and she was hastening to the spot, 
 with a child on each arm, when, exhausted by 
 terror and fatigue, she fell. Agnes and Ernest 
 were walking near the place, and seeing her dis- 
 tress, had flown to her assistance. With their 
 help, she pursued her journey ; and it was in the 
 exertion of raising one of the children in her 
 arms, to carry it for the woman, that this knot 
 had fallen from Agnes' hair. Ernest picked it 
 up ; and he had kept it in memory of the incident. 
 It now affected him powerfully ; and, as he re- 
 called Agnes' graceful figure, when she bent to 
 lift the child, her fine countenance beaming 
 with compassion, — and die tear which trembled 
 in her eye, — he thought that even love was too 
 cold a term to express the adoration which he 
 felt for her! 
 
 But, though Ernest had thus proved to him- 
 self, incontestibly, that he loved Agnes, he was 
 "by no means certain that she returned his pas- 
 sion. She had not only shown too little emo- 
 tion, but she had assumed a superiority of man- 
 ner, and had delivered her sentiments in a calm,
 
 THE MYSTIC. 899 
 
 and almost patronizing tone, which accorded ill 
 with his ideas of a timid girl, whose whole soul is 
 absorbed in that of her lover. Poor Ernest ! he 
 forgot that Agnes had been educated in Paris, 
 and that romance could not exist in that atmo- 
 sphere. In spite of her youth, and her extreme 
 thoughtlessness, Agnes was not quite ignorant 
 of the world. She had been brought up in a 
 French school ; and, in such places, though 
 young ladies are taught to preserve a statue-like 
 appearance in company till they are married, 
 they get a little insight into the manner in which 
 they are to be indemnified for their restraint 
 when the awful ceremony has passed. In short, 
 the seeds are there sown w^hich afterwards pro- 
 duce such abundant fruit; and their apparent 
 reserve is only a thin soil, thrown loosely over 
 the surface. Besides this, Agnes had been so 
 long accustomed to hear of plots and stratagems 
 — to view human nature on its worst side — to 
 find that people are rarely what they seem, and 
 that self-interest is generally the key to all their 
 actions, that it was quite impossible for her to 
 fancy any man to be a deity. She had no en-
 
 294 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 thusiasm ; that " spark of heavenly birth" had 
 been quenched for ever by what she had seen of 
 society; for her knowledge of the world had 
 been acquired by practice, not by theory. The 
 story Veroni told, of her long separation from 
 him, was untrue, for she had accompanied him 
 in many of his wanderings ; and, as she was con- 
 sidered too young to be dangerous, many of the 
 wild schemes and unlawful adventures in which 
 he had been engaged were planned in her hear- 
 ing. Agnes was too shrewd and observing not 
 to watch attentively all that passed; and she 
 soon found, that those who plotted together to 
 deceive strangers, often did n«t hesitate to betray 
 each other. Thus, as she fancied that all man- 
 kind resembled the specimens she had seen, she 
 became quite disgusted with the world ; and, till 
 she came to reside at Bernardi's, she had actu- 
 ally no idea that any man could love virtue 
 solely for itself. Ernest, accordingly, appeared 
 so strange a character to her, that she almost 
 fancied him a being of another world. At first, 
 indeed, she supposed he was only acting a part, 
 like the rest ; but, when she found that he was
 
 THE MYSTIC. 295 
 
 perfectly serious, and that he really believed all 
 he said, her astonishment was extreme. This 
 feeling, on a longer acquaintance, ripened into 
 love; not that passionate worship which a youno- 
 and ignorant girl generally feels for the man 
 whom she considers almost as a god, but a kind 
 of half-protecting, fond affection, like that which 
 we usually entertain towards an innocent and 
 interesting child. 
 
 Agnes knew that Veroni was engaged in a 
 treasonable conspiracy, w^hich might endanger 
 his life; and, when he first proposed to place her 
 in the house of Bernardi, her keen discernment 
 readily enabled her to perceive that he intended 
 to employ her as a tool, to effect some purpose 
 of which she was to remam ignorant. Her pride 
 of intellect revolted at this ; and, as she was per- 
 fectly conscious of her own powers, she did not 
 like to be treated as an automaton, and there- 
 fore resolved to know the secret. 
 
 " It is quite useless to give me lessons," said 
 she, when Veroni began to lecture her, as to what 
 she was to do and say, whilst she was the inmate 
 of Bernardi : " I am sure to forget all you tell
 
 296 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 me ; but, if you will inform me of the circum- 
 stances of the case, I will act according to the 
 best of my discretion." 
 
 " That is, you perceive there is a secret ; 
 and, like all your sex, you will not be happy 
 till you know what it is. Well, I will trust 
 you. My confederates and I have a scheme 
 for establishing a free government in Trieste. 
 The magistrates of the town, who are in the pay 
 of Austria, are of course hostile to this. Ber- 
 nardi is their chief; and we think, if you are in 
 his mansion, you may be able to give us warn- 
 ing of their designs against us.^' 
 
 " So, then, you destine me to the honourable 
 office of a spy ? '' 
 
 " Not only that; I had also in view your fu- 
 ture establishment, my perverse beauty ! Ber- 
 nardi has a son — " 
 
 " Who, through me, may be led to join you ? 
 Upon my word, I am to be made very useful ; 
 I did not think I was charming enough for a 
 decoy ! '* 
 
 " Agnes ! Agnes ! what an opinion you have
 
 THE MYSTIC. 297 
 
 of the world ! You see every thing on the worst 
 side." 
 
 " Alas ! is it not your companions whose con- 
 duct has made me do so?" 
 
 Veroni made no reply, and Agnes offered no 
 further opposition. She was, however, indignant 
 at both projects; but she was powerless, and 
 she had neither friends nor money to enable her 
 to resist Veroni, whose will, moreover, as her 
 father, she was bound to obey. She therefore 
 consented to become Bernardi's inmate on the 
 terms he wished ; mentally vowing, however, 
 that her office of spy should be confined to the 
 task of warning Veroni of danger; that she 
 would report nothing that could be detrimental 
 to her host ; and that no considerations should 
 induce her to exercise the slightest influence 
 over Ernest, even if she should be so unfortu- 
 nate as to attract his regard, which she devoutly 
 hoped she might not. 
 
 Much as Agnes disliked all the companions 
 
 of Veroni, she thought the rest amiable, when 
 
 compared with the person whom we have called 
 
 the Count. That man she particularly abhorred, 
 
 o 5
 
 298 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 and an instinctive horror, which she could not 
 conquer, crept over her whenever he approached. 
 She almost fancied him a Hving incarnation ot 
 the evil spirit ; for, wherever he came, sin and 
 misery seemed to follow his steps. It was, there- 
 fore, with indescribable terror, that after she had 
 been a few months at the villa, she heard him 
 tell Veroni that he had accidentally encountered 
 Ernest (for whom her incipient passion already 
 made her feel a deep interest), and that he had 
 been much struck with the enthusiasm of his 
 character. 
 
 " You need not trouble yourself any longer 
 about this young student," said he to Veroni; 
 " and your fair daughter may feel relieved from 
 her dread of being employed as the means of 
 drawing him into our scheme; for I will now 
 take that task upon myself. He is already half 
 crazy, and he fancies himself born to be a hero." 
 
 " Admirable ! " cried Veroni : " He ought, 
 then, to feel grateful to us, for affording him the 
 means of distinguishing himself. 1 thought that 
 we should not have much trouble with him, as 
 soon as I found he was a Mystic, and as I
 
 THE MYSTIC. 299 
 
 heard him expatiate enthusiastically on the libera- 
 tion of the Greeks.'' 
 
 The Count smiled. " It must be our en- 
 deavour to keep his mind in this state of delu- 
 sion," said he, " till he has gone too far to re- 
 cede. Bernardi is passionately fond of his son, 
 and if the latter can be persuaded to identify 
 his safety with our own, I have no doubt that 
 the old man's paternal love will overcome every 
 other feeling." 
 
 " But, even if you do gain Bernardi's co-ope- 
 ration," said Agnes, " I cannot fancy that you 
 will find it really of half the importance which 
 you seem to suppose." 
 
 «« Why do you think so?'' 
 
 " Bernardi can only be useful to you from his 
 influence among the principal merchants of the 
 town: and, as the influence which he at present 
 enjoys has been gained solely by his high cha- 
 racter for loyalty and integrity, it appears to 
 me, that by making him a Carbonaro, you de- 
 prive him at once of every thing which gave 
 him weight, or could make him serviceable."
 
 300 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 " Bravo, my fair logician ! By Mercury, 
 Veroni, thy pretty daughter is a very goddess oF 
 eloquence ; and, if the doctrine of transmigration 
 be true, no doubt her spirit formerly animated 
 one of the far-famed doctors of the Sorbonne ! '' 
 
 " Keep to thy caps and bonnets, Agnes, for 
 the future," said Veroni ; " we will allow thee 
 an excellent judge of lace, my child; or to have 
 a tolerable taste as to the colour of a silk or 
 ribbon ; but affairs of state are above thv com- 
 prehension." 
 
 " Why, then, do you force me to mingle with 
 conspirators ? " said Agnes, bitterly. 
 
 The Count's eyes flashed fire, and he half 
 laid his hand upon his sword; but Veroni 
 checked him. 
 
 " Agnes is a pettish girl," said he, " and 
 talks about things that she does not understand. 
 She forgets, that when we employ her, it is as a 
 tool, not as a principal." 
 
 Agnes' heart swelled violently, and she could 
 scarcely restrain her indignation. Veroni, how- 
 ever, prevented her from speaking. " We have 
 no time to waste in words," continued he;
 
 THE MYSTIC. 301 
 
 " and we do not want unwilling agents. JSo 1 
 tell you plainly, Agnes, that you must either 
 submit to go only so far, and no farther than we 
 think proper ; or that you may withdraw your- 
 self from us altogether : — only remember, that if 
 you betray us, you devote your father to the scaf- 
 fold ! » 
 
 Agnes was dreadfully agitated; her heart 
 beat ; her colour went and came, and she felt 
 oppressed, almost to suffocation, as the hope of 
 escaping from the tyranny which had so long 
 oppressed her flashed across her mind. A few 
 moments, however, turned the current of her 
 thoughts, and she resolved to counterfeit sub- 
 mission, that she might hear in what manner 
 the Count meant to assail Ernest ; and that she 
 might, if possible, guard him against the danger. 
 She therefore sat down, and with burning 
 cheeks, and throbbing bosom, faintly articulated, 
 " I was wrong. Pardon me. I submit." 
 
 " That is right,'^ said Veroni ; " now you 
 prove yourself to possess the sense I always 
 gave you credit for. You may therefore re- 
 main, as we have no \^dsh to conceal any thing
 
 SOS STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 from your knowledge ; and, indeed, rather pre- 
 fer confiding in you than otherwise; but re- 
 member, you must not again interfere in our 
 plans." 
 
 Agnes bowed obedience ; and the Count, 
 though lie did not appear quite satisfied with the 
 arrangement which made her an auditor to 
 what he said, proceeded to discuss with Veroni 
 his plans for seducing Ernest, and making him 
 join the Carbonari. 
 
 " The first glance I caught of the young 
 student," said he, "convinced me that I should 
 find little difficulty in bringing him over to our 
 plans. His transparent complexion, which, 
 though constitutionally pale, flushed with every 
 emotion that crossed his mind ; the deep, liquid 
 lustre, and almost unearthly expression of his 
 large, dark eyes, which were first fixed so 
 mournfully upon the ground, and then glanced 
 rapidly around with a fire which astonished even 
 me ; and his youthful, though morbid enthusi- 
 asm combined together, assured me of success. 
 Nature, indeed, has evidently marked him out 
 for a victim. His own feelings, sooner or later.
 
 THE MYSTIC. 303 
 
 must destroy him ; and, even if his life should 
 fall a sacrifice from his joining in our plans, we 
 shall only (perhaps by a very short time) anti- 
 cipate his inevitable fate ! " 
 
 " I believe it," said V^eroni, " and conse- 
 quently feel little compunction for what may 
 befall him ; but what Agnes has said, respecting 
 Bernardi, appears worthy of consideration. He 
 cannot become one of us without losing half his 
 value." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " returned the Count. " His 
 wealth will always give him consequence ; and, 
 besides, the sapient burghers, like a flock of 
 sheep, will be very likely to plunge into any 
 thing, even into difficulties, if they see one of 
 their own number leading the way." 
 
 Veroni laughed ; " I believe you are right," 
 said he ; " and, that being granted, all that re- 
 mains is, to find means to make Ernest our pro- 
 selyte." 
 
 " Nothing can be more easy. He is a Mystic ; 
 and, as such, I consider him as a fully stringed 
 and finely tuned lute, ready to vibrate at the 
 slightest touch, and to sound whatever notes it
 
 304 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 may please a master-hand to call forth. Such 
 as is the power of a musician over his instru- 
 ment, will therefore be my influence over the 
 mind of Ernest, and harmony or discord shall 
 alike foUov/ my bidding. I know his train of 
 thought, and I can strike chords which shall 
 thrill through every nerve. He adores virtue, 
 my designs shall therefore clothe themselves in 
 a virtuous garb ; and he worships mystery, 
 therefore will I glide before him as a spectre, 
 appearing when he expects me not, and chang- 
 ing my form and manners at every new inter- 
 view ; till, puzzled and bewildered, he shall con- 
 ceive me a being superior to himself, because 
 he cannot understand the motives for my actions; 
 and, of course, not finding himself able to mea- 
 sure them by his own standard, he must be in- 
 competent to judge of their real worth. He 
 will thus affix a false value upon all I say and 
 do; and, when I have worked his mind up to 
 a proper pitch, I will contrive, by means of an 
 optical delusion, (which lean easily prepare,) to 
 make liimself suppose that he has seen a super-
 
 THE :mystic. 305 
 
 natural being, who has declared his fate, and 
 whose will it is impossible for him to resist." 
 
 « Excellent ! " cried Veroni. " I envy you 
 the honour of so happy an invention, and one 
 which is so exactly calculated to accomplish the 
 end which we have in view. Ernest is a pro- 
 fessed idealist ; and, of course, like all his very 
 philosophical, and very unintelligible fraternity, 
 he is a profound believer in the doctrine, that 
 certain individuals are fated to perform certain 
 actions, which they have no power to avoid. In- 
 deed, I suspect that he carries liis sublimity so 
 far, as to suppose that the actions of the phan- 
 tasm, or spectrum (which, by courtesy, is called 
 his body), are so distinct from any operations of 
 his mind, as to free the latter from all trouble- 
 some responsibility on their account. 
 
 " Mercy ! mercy ! '* cried the Count, inter- 
 rupting him, and laughing. " Consider that it 
 will be quite enough if I become ' transcend- 
 ental ' with Ernest ; so, at present, you must 
 really forgive my staying to prove that 'matter is 
 a phenomenon which has no real existence : ' and 
 you must not be so unreasonable as to expect
 
 306 STORIES OF A BRIDE. 
 
 me either to ascend above all ' sensual ideas ' 
 and ' earthly comprehensions ; ' or to prove, by 
 mathematical demonstration, that being a man, 
 I am consequently, neither ahorse, nor a tree! " 
 
 " Indeed, you have no occasion to give your- 
 self so much trouble," said Veroni, laughing. 
 " You, or not you, it is no matter which ; though 
 I question if Fichte himself could tell whether 
 you are a man, or an infernal spirit." 
 
 "You flatter!" said the Count, ironically; and 
 the conversation taking another turn, they soon 
 after separated. 
 
 It may be imagined with what feeling Agnes 
 listened to a plot which seemed to freeze her 
 blood ; and, when she next saw Ernest, she felt 
 as though a demon were hovering over his head, 
 which he could not see, and which (even if her 
 tongue were unchained,) he would not believe 
 in, though she were to warn him of its existence. 
 It was this feeling that destroyed Agnes' gaiety 
 during the visits of the Count ; while it softened 
 into tenderness the sentiment she had before 
 begun to entertain for Ernest, since pity always 
 smooths the path to love; and she regarded
 
 THE MYSTIC. 307 
 
 him as one treading upon the edge of a preci- 
 pice, of whose danger she was fully sensible, but 
 whom she feared all her efforts would be power- 
 less to save. Still, however, she endeavoured to 
 interpose between him and destruction, though 
 she did not dare to utter more than hints ; as, 
 even if she could have forgotten the oath that 
 bound her to the Carbonari, she knew that she 
 could not reveal the projects of the Count with- 
 out also betraying her father, and she shrank 
 with horror from the guilt of parricide. 
 
 With such deep and contending emotions 
 agitating her mind, it is not surprising that 
 Agnes felt little of the absorbing power gene- 
 rally ascribed to love, and that her manner ap- 
 peared cool to Ernest, who knew no other pas- 
 sion, and had suffered his whole soul to be en- 
 grossed by this. He could not in the least un- 
 derstand her feelings ; and he perplexed himself 
 vainly in endeavouring to find a clue to them 
 in his own breast. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 J. B. NICHOLS AND SON, 25, PARLIAMENT-STREET.