82.3 WI53. BBS . Bun Vv. » CENTRAL CIRCULATION BOOKSTACKS The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its renewal or its return to the library from which it was borrowed on or before the Latest Date stamped below. You may be charged a minimum fee of $75.00 for each lost book. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books ore reasons for disciplinary action and may result In dismissal from the University. TO RENEW CALL TELEPHONE CENTER, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBAN A-CHAMPAIGN 1997 3^i i S When renewing by phone, write new due date below ,tk & previous due date. Ll$2 *&$ H *&&&*Mmi %&< ^y V / U Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/constancedoyleyt01wall CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. A TALE. BY THE AUTHOR OF "the clandestine marriage. 5 do no fors, I speke right as I mene. CHAUCER. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1844. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY CHAPTER I. Thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which hath too much. AS YOU LIKE IT. " Then you won't come to see me, Con- stance ?" said her uncle Thornton. " I must beg you to excuse me," replied his niece, still keeping her eyes on her work. " You won't?" " If you persist in giving so rude a form to my denial, I won't" she replied, half smiling. VOL. I. B JL CONSTANCE D OYLEY. "You don't know what a fine place I have down in Herefordshire." "I think I do: it is engraved in that new work of gentlemen's seats." " Pshaw, the house ! I could make you very comfortable," pursued the old gentle- man, " and I like you because you are so odd." " For ten minutes, uncle," said Con- stance looking up steadily in his face ; " in ten days you would find my oddness clash with your own." " And how do you know but I might leave you a fortune," continued her uncle. " Fortune !" muttered Constance, half inaudibly ; but the flash of contempt which passed over her face was more intelligible than words. " Ay," said her uncle sharply ; " how are girls to expect to settle in these days without money ? And you, too, who have no beauty." " I am very well aware I have no beauty," said Constance, in a quiet tone. CONSTANCE D OYLEY. 6 " Something very like it though, now ;" said her uncle leaning back in his chair, and contemplating her as he would a pic- ture ; " now, that I have made you angry." " Yes, angry," replied Constance, " and with one of your sex, that is the bitterest re- proach which can be addressed to a woman ; and you are not one from whom I will take reproaches." " 1 cannot think what makes you so inve- terate against me," said her uncle. "You have not been kind to papa and mamma, that is all ;" replied Constance. "Not given them money enough, I sup- pose?" " Not given them countenance enough ; little kindnesses — things that would have cost you nothing — " " But trouble ;" grumbled uncle Thorn- ton. " Just so. For instance, a word from you would have obtained the cadetship for Harry, and you know how that matter has ended." b 2 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " In a curacy I suppose. Well, but then the trouble — I am not used to take any." " And you have no right to expect it from others, " returned Constance. " I have no particular wish to go into Herefordshire, and I will make no sacrifice for one who can make none in his turn." "You are a very odd girl," said her uncle, surveying her as if she were a natu- ral curiosity. " Am I?" said she folding up her work, " I didn't know it." " Where are you going, Constance ?" " Into the green-house." " Well, I don't care if I come with you ; I have not seen your green-house." "It is not worth seeing, you have better ones at Ley ton ; and I really wish, uncle Thornton, you would not follow me about." While uncle Thornton is in the green- house, it may be as well to state that he was a single gentleman of very large for- tune, and verging upon the convenient age of seventy-six. How many greedy eyes CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. were fixed upon his hoarded wealth may easily be supposed, now that in the course of nature he must so very soon relinquish it. Every attack of the gout was noted down in twenty tablets, and poor uncle Thornton's altered looks were made the source of hypocritical condolence by twenty trembling heirs expectant. Of these, the most likely to succeed, and therefore, of course, the most distressed at any failing symptom, was one Mrs. Parker, his widowed sister, whose own means were so ample, that perhaps she was even less to be sympathised with than most of those miserable harpies who, to use the terms of one of our most expressive proverbs, 'look out for dead men's shoes.' She had a large family of her own, all established in wealthy mercantile concerns, except her second son, the fine gentleman of the family, who contrived by virtue of his office to run through a great deal of money, and who, being much more insolent to the old gentleman than occasion ever re- CONSTANCE D OYLEY. quired, even the occasions of his goutiest exactions, was thought in a fair way to be the old man's heir. In fact, he had Frederick Parker's pic- ture painted and hung in the dining-room at Leyton after one of their stormiest quar- rels, as if he really meant that one very happy day he should preside there as master in good earnest. Mrs. Parker spent most of her time at Leyton ; her own villa at Fulham was damp, Leyton was agueish, but it never af- fected her. If her brother was ordered to Cheltenham, she must escort him thither. If he went to see a friend, she had long owed the dear man a visit too, and could not let her brother go without her. Uncle Thornton was hardly ever out of her sight. The fact was, that he did not much wish it ; there is in female attendance, however interested, or however scantily rendered, something so soothing to an invalid, so absolutely essential, that he was well con- CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. tented to carry sister Parker about with him as head-nurse, and looked upon the pensioning her off handsomely at his death, as an act of justice which must be rendered to her in common with his other and more regularly enlisted menials. How, indeed, he ever would have the assurance to sit down, and in her very presence concoct a will, wherein sister Parker's name should not figure in capital letters, was something that she could not comprehend, and with her good guardian- ship should never happen. The only person who felt no interest in the disposition of his property was Mrs. D'Oyley, the mother of Constance, his youngest niece, who having early offended him by her marriage with a poor curate, had quietly submitted to almost a total estrangement from her uncle; and taking it for granted that she should not benefit by his death, was perhaps the only one among his numerous relatives who really took pleasure in seeing him alive. 8 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. A sort of reconciliation had been patched up between them. Mr. D'Oyley had been presented by his patron, the Earl of Bevis, to an excellent living. There were but three children to diminish his income, and they lived in comfort and some elegance ; so uncle Thornton, finding himself in their neighbourhood, had left his Argus for a single night and had dined and slept at the rectory. Mrs. Parker was to bring the carriage for him in the course of the morning, and in the meantime he was bestowing his tediousness upon his great niece, Constance. Mr. D'Oyley was a finished gentleman, and had welcomed his guest with due polite- ness. Mrs. D'Oyley received him with more warmth, she recognised those ties of relation- ship that it takes so much to obliterate ; but Constance, who despised her uncle from her heart, and deeply resented his neglect of her parents, hardly vouchsafed him a word uncalled for, and put the most de- cided negative upon his friendly advan- CONSTANCE D OYLEY. U ces ; and yet he had taken a violent fancy to her, Thus runs the world away. " Well, this is a pretty little green- house," said Mr. Thornton. " Scarcely room to move, you see," said Constance as she brushed past him ; "I beg your pardon, I must reach this rose- tree." "What! are you going to gather the only rose in your collection ?" " I am, indeed ; it is my tree though," said Constance, laughing. " Why, what can you want with so choice a nosegay ?" " We are going to a party to-night." " Any thing particular ?" 11 No, only just our own neighbourhood." " And so you are resolved to make your- self very smart ?" " This is not for me," returned Con- stance. "I am making up mamma's bou- quet ; she is so fond of flowers." B 3 10 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. Uncle Thornton stood for a few moments silent ; he almost envied Mrs. D'Oyley a daughter who attended to her fancies with- out their being expressed. " Suppose I stay over to-night, and so prevent your going to your party/' said Mr. Thornton. " Why, in that case mamma might think it civil to remain at home with you, but I should certainly keep my engagement with Mrs. Manley." " You could not go alone I" " Oh, this is not like London, " said Con- stance, cutting off a sprig of flowering myr- tle with her rose-scissors ; " nobody would be shocked at seeing me come unattended into a room." * " Those are very curious scissors," said her uncle ; " let me look at them, I never saw any before." " Made for gathering flowers, you know," said Constance. " Where do you get them ?" asked uncle Thornton. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 1] Constance read the name of the maker on the handle. Any one other of Mr. Thornton's rela- tives would have prayed him to accept the novelty, but Constance never dreamed of making a present to so rich a man ; par- ticularly by way of conciliation. " They were given to me," added Con- stance. " Here comes your mamma," said Mr. Thornton advancing to meet her, " now I will tell her how you have been using me." " Oh, pray don't, uncle," cried Con- stance, affecting to be frightened. " What do you think, Mrs. D'Oyley," said Mr. Thornton, " I have been using all my eloquence with your daughter to make her accept an invitation to my house, and in vain." "lam sure you are very kind, uncle," said Mrs. D'Oyley in a hesitating voice ; she was, with all her disinterestedness, not quite so blind to the probable advantages as her daughter was. 12 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " The idea !" cried Constance, her eyes filling with tears, " to leave papa and mamma for the sake of staying with Mr. Thornton I" " What do you say to it, Mrs. D'Oyley?" asked Mr. Thornton. " We thank you very much, my dear uncle, for thinking of such a thing," said Mrs. D'Oyley ; " but this is a case which we should leave entirely to the decision of Constance. " Mr. Thornton looked round for her ; she was seated on one of the low flower-stands making up a nosegay, perfectly secure that the matter was in her own hands, and, therefore, that the case stood as she had before arranged it with her uncle. At this moment the gate bell rang. " There V said uncle Thornton, " there is old mother Parker come to fetch me away ; you need not go in to see her, I'll say good-bye here. If ever your want anything, why ask me for it ; so good-bye, my dear." CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 13 " Good-bye, uncle," said Constance, as he left the green-house in company with her mother. "Well," said she to herself; " I should like very much to know the meaning of all this, ' the English of it,' as Harry says. I declare I have been very ungracious to Mr, Thornton ; I never was so rude to any one before ; but then he has behaved so shockingly to papa and mamma : at least, I will never go to stay with him. For- give as much as you please, but still keep out of the way of people who insult you. Now, if that tiresome Cape-jessamine were but blown, mamma would have as choice a bouquet as Lady Hernshaw, with all her conservatories. Now some thread to tie it with, and my rose-scissors ; why," cried Constance raising her laughing face from a long and ineffectual search, " I do believe my wicked uncle Thornton has abstracted them !" 14 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. CHAPTER II. And of a truth she was of great disport ; Pleasant to all, and amiable of port. It gave her pain to counterfeit the ways Of court, its stately manner and displays ; And to be held in distant reverence. CHAUCER. It was a very select neighbourhood. Sir George and Lady Hernshaw were first on the list. Sir George had made a great deal of money in some fortunate speculations ; Lady Hernshaw was clever, insolent, and well connected ; everybody looked up to her. The village was made up of a sprinkling of gentlemen's houses, scarcely deserving the name of seats, and a great abundance of cottages ; but none of those little boxes with green verandahs and painted CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 15 iron railings, which disfigure the approaches to London, and indeed to most of our coun- try towns. The neighbourhood did not recognise the existence of any person living in, or very near, the country town which was within two miles of their own village. Not that they themselves were many degrees less vulgar than such people; for among them there was very nearly as much reliance on externals, quite as much love of paltry mischief and wholesale scandal, as might be found in the narrowest street of the aforementioned town. There was by no means an immaculate freedom from ledger and counter in the very highest of these exclusives ; and, more- over, many of the townspeople kept a bet- ter carriage and dressed in richer satins than the elite of the village. It was habit : you cannot break into the charmed circle ; you must be born there. Mrs. Manley was a widow lady with two daughters ; Mrs. Dyce a widow with three, but her second was married, in which par- 16 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. ticular she had, and felt she had, an advan- tage over Mrs. Manley. Each lady boasted a son. Mrs. Manley 's was an invalid who could not walk down stairs without trem- bling ; Mrs. Dyce's, a gentleman of spirit, who ran through a great deal more money than his mother found it pleasant to pay. Then there were the Brownings, whose fa- mily circle, once very large, consisted now of an eccentric old father, two single daugh- ters, both a little declining into the sear, the yellow leaf, and one grandson, as hope- ful a youth as ever was sent to sea by his desperate relatives. It was evening, and Mrs. Manley 's draw- ing-room was in full toilet for the recep- tion of her visitors ; chairs uncovered, ta- bles neatly arranged, every thing, in fact, gloriously uncomfortable. The Miss Brownings had arrived — daring, unpleasant women, who put up their glass to every man they passed in the road, stared him into blushes, or if that were im- possible, fairly stared him down, and then CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 17 turned and laughed to each other. They were the sort of women who abused old maids, always begged their friends to have men enough at their parties, and who had laughed, flirted, and waltzed thirty years to no purpose. Miss Dyce next made her appearance with her mother, both sensible women, and in great favour with their hostess. " But where is dear Louisa ?" asked Mrs. Manley as Mrs. Dyce took her seat on the sofa beside her. " Only confined to the house with one of her tedious colds," said Mrs. Dyce. " She regretted very much not being able to venture here." " She reads too much, my dear Mrs. Dyce," said Mrs. Manley. " She does too much of every thing," said Miss Dyce. " But advice is wasted on these energetic people." Miss Browning took up her eye-glass, and having ascertained, by a very compre- hensive stare, that she was dressed in a 18 CONSTANCE d'OYLEY. very good black satin, and that it was trimmed with very good black lace, she dropped it again, and listened. " Do you expect Lady Hernshaw to- night ?" asked Mrs. Dyce. " Oh, yes," said Mrs. Manley ; " she will come when the evening is half over, and declare she hurried dinner to be here so soon ; then hasten home again with her handsome daughter, on pretence of another engagement." " Do you call that girl handsome, mam- ma?" exclaimed Miss Manley. " The men call her so," returned Miss Browning, in a tone that it would have been dangerous to dispute. " The gentlemen are below with Fran- cis," said Mrs. Manley. " Yon know, unless one asks them to dinner, one can never secure them for one's evening par- ties." u You are quite right," said Miss Brown- ing. " I say what I think ; and parties without men are detestable." CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 19 " A good many young ladies are of your opinion, my dear," said Mrs. Manley, laughing. " By the by, my dear Mrs. Manley," said Mrs. Dyce, "have you heard that young Mr. Forde has returned to England ?" " Ay," said Miss Browning, " the old man is dead at last." " Well, but," said Mrs. Dyce, " I won- der if he intends to reside in the neighbour- hood. Such a beautiful house, so finely furnished ! Poor old Mr. Forde never lived to enjoy his work. I wonder where the young man is now ?" " In the dining-room," said Mrs. Man- ley with an air of great indifference. " The gentlemen will be up presently." " Mr. Forde in your dining-room !" said Mrs. Dyce with unequivocal surprise. " Yes ; he and Francis were great friends before he went abroad you know." Mrs. Dyce did not know it. "So of course we asked him here as soon as we knew he had returned." 20 CONSTANCE d'c-YLEY. The young ladies looked at each other. Mrs. Manley had secured the first move ; but they flattered themselves they were not indifferent players. Lady Hernshaw and her daughter were announced ; Sir George, as usual, engaged ; the mother, richly dressed, highly rouged, sparkling with a most needless profusion of jewels ; her beautiful daughter in the native brilliancy of her own charms, fairly eclipsing her imposing appearance. Every body said they were delighted to see Miss Hernshaw, and everybody devoutly wished her out of the way ; for they could not disguise from themselves the fact that no one of them was likely to be looked at while Miss Hernshaw was in the room. " Constance not here 1" said Miss Hern- shaw looking round when the party had subsided into quiet after their reception. " Oh, she will be here soon enough," said the younger Miss Browning ; " such a disagreeable girl !" CONSTANCE d'OYLEY. 21 " Such a charming girl, I think I" said Miss Hernshaw. Every one echoed Miss Hernshaw's ex- clamation. Henrietta Browning found her- self in the minority ; for Constance was peculiarly gracious in her manners to every body except uncle Thornton ; and — she was not admired by the gentlemen. The Miss Manleys were now called upon to explain what Mr. Forde was like. Miss Browning asked if he would be a good partner at a ball. Miss Dyce begged to know whether he appeared sensible. Miss Hernshaw, laughing, hoped that he dressed well ; and Henrietta, from the other side of the room, expressed her opinion that if he could not take a second decently in their duets, the man would not be worth a rush to any of them. Before Miss Manley could reply to these inquiries, Mr. Forde made his appearance in company with the other gentlemen. The Manleys and Brownings contrived to sur- round him. Miss Manley had a little song 22 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. in an Italian dialect, and she was dying to know whether it was Venetian or Genoese. Miss Browning wanted to know the exact size of the Scala, and likewise whether he read music from the clef. The moment he entered, Lady Hernshaw, by a glance of the eye, imperceptible except to the initiated, made it evident to Isabel that Mr. Forde was not a person to be sought or even attended to more than the merest civility required. However, Miss Hernshaw was too much of a professed beauty not to feel surprised that a stranger should be three minutes in her presence without displaying an inclina- tion to place himself at her feet. Mr. Forde appeared to her both handsome and intelli- gent, and she was fond of conquest. She was very much above the vulgarity of di- rectly appealing to his attention ; but she was looking at some medallions, and found herself unable to read one of the inscrip- tions. She asked Mr. Dyce for a magnify- ing glass. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 23 Upon his honour he had not the least idea where one was to be found. Did nobody wear an eye-glass ? How provoking ! She must trouble Mr. Manley to go and ask her mamma for her reading- glasses. Mr. Manley, shaking very much, did as he was bid ; but Lady Hernshaw had come out without them. Of course by this time there was some confusion in the room. Mr. Dyce held the medallion up to the candle till it was smoked, in the vain hope of reading the letters ; he said they were Greek, and gave them over to a young clergyman who was present. The clergyman declared the in- scription to be illegible, and passed the medallion on to Mr. Forde. He looked at it for a moment, and then coming up to Miss Hernshaw, said he was sorry to dis- appoint her, but he believed there was no inscription at all, merely a wreath of acan- thus leaves very nearly obliterated, which ran round the edge of the medal. 24 Miss Hernshaw protested that she had given a great deal of trouble, and then sat looking at the medallion, and seeming un- conscious of the presence of Mr. Forde, who had taken a chair by her side. At last she laid it down, and said easily by way of beginning : " And how long is it since you returned from Naples ?" " About three weeks : but I only came down to Elmsforde yesterday," he replied. " I suppose you know the place and the people as well as we do. I forget whether you resided here ? ,J said Miss Hernshaw carelessly. " I spent the holidays here when I was a boy. But then we settled in Lon- don, and afterwards at Naples, so that every one has grown quite out of my remembrance. " " Except the old people," said Isabel. " No, I assure you ! A dozen or so more wrinkles are quite sufficient to include them in my rule of forge tfulness. But I see you CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 25 looking towards the door as if you were in anticipation of some delightful arrival. Some lion, I dare say ! Is it to be poet, painter, or traveller ?" " Nay," said Isabel laughing, " one traveller in a party is enough." " But you do not dignify my poor peregrinations by such a title ? A travel- ler ought to have penetrated to Cochin- China at the very least. I hope that when you run over to Paris for a new bonnet, you do not imagine that you are actually travelling ?" Ci Something very like it !" said Isabel. " Do you know last year our carriage got behind a post-chaise bearing home some dead lady ; and we had to creep a hun- dred miles at a foot-pace, because it was out of rule to pass by La Morte." M But that was only a bore, not an ad- venture," said Mr. Forde. " A horde of Tartars now pulling your carriage to pieces, and tumbling out your ball-dresses vol. i. c 26 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. on the sand would have been a thing to remember." " Oh ! thank you, I have no passion for such scenes," replied Miss Hernshaw ; " but I am looking out for my friend Con- stance D'Oyley. I suppose she is one of those who have the misfortune to escape your recollection ?" "Let me see," said Mr. Forde, "Mr. D'Oyley was rector here before we left ; but Miss D'Oyley might have been in her cradle or her teens for any thing I knew of her. I shall be delighted to hear her de- scription from you." " A hand-bill description ? Dark grey eyes, brown hair, fine teeth ! A little above the middle height, and so on !" " No ; I would rather hear the terms on which you consent to call her your friend." " Oh ! that is a much easier task ; sim- ply because she is so odd." " That is not. I confess, a very prepos- sessing attribute." CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 27 " Not to you, I dare say!" replied Miss Hernshaw. " But you need not expect to see a Madge Wildfire make her appearance. Her ideas are odd ; but neither is her dress nor her person." " Then perhaps original would be a bet- ter term ?" " I think my own term the best. There are several originals now in the room : but Constance is singular — so disinterested." " Is that odd ?" asked Mr. Forde smiling. "Very — very!" replied Miss Hernshaw with emphasis. The discussion was interrupted by the entrance of Constance with her mother. Mr. Forde's curiosity was so far raised as to pay particular attention to Miss D'Oyley's manner and appearance. She was, as her friend had said, rather above the middle height, of a singularly fine form, which contributed to make her movements graceful and expressive. Her nut-brown hair was parted back almost to the ears, and then fell in profuse clusters c 2 28 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. of heavy curls. At the back of the head her soft thick tresses were wound into a large knot, so low as almost to touch the neck. Her brows and eyes were beautiful ; the brow, a projecting edge of brown, finely traced, and a little darker than the hair ; and the eyes of that soft slate colour, so puzzling by candlelight, so expressive under any circumstances. Nothing could exceed the simplicity of her dress ; a pale blue silk with a close fitting boddice and sleeves, unadorned by any sort of trinket. There was something remarkably pleasing in her manner. Yet her tone, her mode of address, her very smile varied to every person she spoke to. She was so natural, that her aspect was entirely under the con- trol of her feelings. And then her walk, her mode of shaking hands, the very turn of her head was so easy, so different from those young ladies who act always with the hope of a husband before their eyes. Having spoken to all the ladies, and bowed just perceptibly to the gentlemen CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. on the hearth-rug, Constance made her way- over to Miss Hernshaw and glided into a seat by her side. " Odd ?" thought Mr. Forde. " I would swear I never saw anything less odd in my life." " So you have found your way to me at last f" said Isabel as they shook hands. "Did you not think me very quick?'' asked Constance. " Recollect I have des- patched Mrs. Manley and both the Brown- ings." " True ! What was Miss Browning say- ing to } r OU i" " Oh !" replied Constance, " she only asked me the price of my gowri." "Did you tell her?" " I could not. I remembered what it was a yard, but I had not time to add it up." Mr. Forde, who had sat by silently, laughed ; Constance turned round, and seeing a person whom she did not know, turned back again to her friend. " I will tell you where you may borrow 30 CONSTANCE d'OYLEY. a Holinshed," said she, "if you still wish to read the account of the real de Lacey, Scott's Constable of Chester." " Yes, I know. I wish it of all things. " " I asked papa and he said Mr. Brown- ing had one— a real old edition." " I wonder how he came by it ;" said Isabel. " I shall borrow it and make him leave it to me in his will. And talking of wills, I hear that your old uncle has been to visit you." " Talking of rheumatism or wrinkles," said Constance laughing, "but wills are the last things I should talk of in connexion with uncle Thornton. His last will and testament has been declared very plainly a long time." " A wicked will," said Isabel, " if it is to prevent you from receiving a handsome share of the old man's property." " I have not earned it," replied Con- stance smiling. " Are the ladies about here musical ?" asked Mr. Forde of Miss Hernshaw. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 31 "Yes, very !" replied Isabel. "And you?" " Of course. I do all in my power to promote the discord. I wish you could see yourself, my dear Constance, whenever music is mentioned ; you always make a face like a person afflicted with tooth- ache." "Do I ?" said Constance, turning round to the looking-glass. " Do you not like music ?" asked Mr. Forde. " Some music, and sometimes," said Constance ; " but I don't know a greater penance than to be obliged to play when one is not in the humour for it." " You will never be a woman of the world," said Isabel; "you let all your moods be seen." " No, never !" returned Constance very contentedly. Music began ; a whist party was form- ing — there were more than enough players, and another table was to be made up ; 32 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. then, of course, one more player was wanted. " Do have pity on them, Constance/' said Isabel. " You know that I cannot play/' she replied. " But learn, then. They always volun- teer to teach a recruit." " Oh, no ! I have a horror of cards." " But what is your objection ?" " I can hardly explain it. You know Kean said he never felt degraded except when he had on his Harlequin's jacket. Now I have just that feeling with a pack of cards in my hand." " The fact is, you think them too trifling." " That cannot be/' said Constance laugh- ing, "for I am very fond of playing at dominoes." Mr. Forde went to the hostess and pro- cured a box of dominoes. He brought them to Constance and challenged her to play. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 33 She took Miss Hernshaw into her coun- sels, and opposed Mr. Forde. The game was only an excuse for a great deal of lively conversation. In the midst of some laughable description which Mr. Forde was giving them of Anglo-Neapolitan society of the second class, Miss Hernshaw caught her mother's eye fixed on her's — a slight sign passed between them, " Ah !" said she rising, " mamma wants me to fasten that troublesome bracelet of her's ; the Venice clasp, Constance, which no one can manage but myself. You must finish without my assistance." " I think I shall not finish at all," said Constance as her friend left her ; " I have nothing but bad numbers left." " But is it not very cruel in you to give me no chance of victory ?" asked Mr. Forde. Constance laughed, and began mixing the dominoes. They then fell into a conversation upon the antiquity of games, and from that to c 3 34 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. the fine fragment of Greek boys at the British Museum, quarrelling over the game of knuckle-bones. " Are you not talking of something very learned ?" asked Miss Dyce, who now joined them. " Profoundly so I" replied Mr. Forde. " I thought I heard something about the Greeks. Are you a Philo-Hellenist, Mr. Forde ?" asked the lady. Constance surrendered her seat to Miss Dyce, and went in search of her mother. Mrs. D'Oyley was talking to Lady Hern- shaw ; Miss Hernshaw was at the piano with Mr. Dyce and two or three other gentlemen surrounding her. " My dearest Constance," said her Lady- ship, " would you be so very kind as to remind my foolish Isabel that she is sing- ing a great deal too much this evening. She should recollect Dr. Grove's injunc- tions about her chest." Constance went directly ; not that she supposed Lady Hernshaw to be anxious CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 35 about her daughter's health, but she knew well enough it was that lady's manner of dismissing a troublesome listener. Isabel left off in the middle of a song, but she complied with the entreaties of the gentlemen that she would remain at the piano, and began playing a fantasia by Hertz. Meantime, Constance sat down alone, in order that she might listen to the music. She was presently joined by Mr. Forde, who complained of her unkindness in making her escape from him when he was particularly in want of her assistance. " But for what ?" asked Constance. " To defend these Turks. I have de- fended the Greek cause so often that I took up the Turkish side by way of variety, and of course had very little to say for it." " And I am sure I would have given you no assistance," said Constance. " But have you ever studied the law, that you are ready to plead both sides of a cause ?" 36 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. "No/' said Mr. Forde ; "I have the real misfortune to be without a profes- sion. " Constance thought it a misfortune too, but she said nothing. " But I sought you from a very interested motive," continued her companion. " I have been hearing the wildest story ima- ginable ; the history of a Lord Somebody, who lives the life of a recluse in this neigh- bourhood ; turns night into day, and per- forms such wonders !" " Oh ! you mean Lord Bevis," said Con- stance. " Yes, it is generally believed that he is deformed, for he is never seen. He literally does turn night into day ; rises in the evening and goes to bed at dawn ; and rides out like other people when every body else is fast asleep." " So I have just heard. But I am told that I might hear a great many more par- ticulars of this curious being if you chose to be communicative." "You think so because papa visits him CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 37 from time to time. His father, you know, gave papa the living. Do own now that you are quite as anxious to ' pluck out the heart of my mystery,' though you are a man, as any woman that ever lived." " Then, will you tell me all you know of Lord Bevis ?" " I will, provided you confess." "Well, then, confiteor : now, what do you know f" "Absolutely nothing,'' said Constance, her whole face radiant with laughter. " I am so sorry, but papa gives us no account of his visits." " And are you so devoid of curio- sity ?" " I really don't wish to know exactly how deformed Lord Bevis is. I imagine it is to an extent that injures his health, or he would never shut himself up as he does. Papa regrets it, I know. He thinks it in- compatible with the duties of so rich a man ; but he has some factotum, a trusty 38 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. servant who does wonders for him. I sup- pose he is religious, from his having papa to visit him ; but you see I have no certain information, it is all supposition. " " And you have never extorted from Mr. D'Oyley a full-length portrait of this man?" " No," said Constance ; " for I agree with papa that he is the last person who should infringe the intentions of his soli- tude ; if he secludes himself that he may conceal the accident of his birth, papa should be careful not to expose his secret ; but, indeed, I do not know that he is de- formed, it may be eccentricity that leads him to live alone." Mr. Forde said something about an ex- cess of heroism. " No, do oblige me," said Constance, " by believing that a little more is required to make a hero than the mere absence of an unfeeling curiosity." " Still," Mr. Forde began— " Still," said Constance, rising, " you CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 39 have half made up your mind to storm this poor man's castle and possess yourself by force of his secret." " Are you going?" said Mr. Forde with an expression of regret, " I hope that when I do myself the honour of returning Mr. D'Oy- ley's visit, I shall not find you as inaccessi- ble as Lord Bevis." " I don't know," said Constance, gaily, " I am all over the village every morning." " What, among the poor people ?" "Sometimes; I go about a great deal with papa." Having made their adieux, Constance and her mother left the room, and on reach- ing the hall they found Mr. Forde had fol- lowed them down stairs. " Why, you are not going to walk ?" said he. " Oh, yes we are !" said Constance, tying on her bonnet; " and you came down to hand us into a fine carriage with four prancing horses ; and in that case, the rec- tory is so close, that the horses' heads 40 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. would be at home while we were stepping into the carriage here." " But I hope you will allow me to walk home with you?" said Mr. Forde offering his arm to Mrs. D'Oyley. She assured him that there was not the slightest occa- sion, and so forth, but he insisted and gained his point. He offered his other arm to Constance, but she dropped behind, say- ing " that she wished to have the full bene- fit of the lantern which the little foot-boy was carrying." He could hear her keep- ing up a conversation with the boy as they went along. " Lantern a little lower, Tim, I am look- ing out for the black-beetles." " No fear of them, Miss, they are flown out a long time." " So, Tim, you got quite safe to Lady Hernshaw's ?" " Yes, Miss." " No robbers in that dark corner by the mill-stream ?" 4 'Oh, no! Miss." CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 41 "That's well ; though I have no money in my pocket, have you ?" " Yes, Miss,'' said Tim, looking stealthily round. " Indeed ; any ghosts out to-night ?" " No, Miss," said Tim, walking a little closer to his young mistress. " You looked well under the great yew tree as you came along?" t£ I ran past it, Miss." " Why was that ? Did you see anything white creeping along the churchyard ?" " No, Miss," said Tim, flying to the door and relieving his mind by a furious applica- tion of the knocker. Mrs. D'Oyley and Mr. Forde were stand- ing on the steps laughing. " I suppose you are laughing at me," said Constance ; " but Tim is a protege of mine. I never let my brothers teaze or frighten him, preferring to carry on that branch of his education myself. Do you know that you have come out without your hat ? Entirely a matter of taste ! only if you 42 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. were to take your death of cold, don't you think mamma and I should have some rea- son to reproach ourselves ? Are you afraid of ghosts ? I shall be very happy to lend you Tim back to Lady Hernshaw's; — good night." "Well, Miss Constance, " said Mrs. D'Oyley, smiling, as they were parting for the night ; "I think you have been flirting this evening at a great rate." " Was that flirting, mamma ?" said Con- stance taking up her candle, " I did not know it was anything half so agreeable." CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 43 CHAPTER III. glo'ster. — Vouchsafe to wear this ring. anne. — To take is not to give. RICHARD III. It was just two days after the tea-party at Mrs. Manley's, that Constance and her mother were talking and working in the drawing-room at the rectory, when a letter came in for Constance and a small parcel for Mrs. D'Oyley. " Why surely, that little square packet never came by the post ?" said Constance. " No, my dear, the postman brought it from the town as it was so small." " Very gracious of him ! This is from Edgar; hopes we are well — particularly your cold : wants two pair of gloves and 44 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. a cake — asks if we have read the last number of Nicholas Nickleby ; and says it wants only five weeks to the holidays. There, mamma, did you ever see anything so like copper-plate as that boy's hand ?" " No, my dear, it is beautiful. But now for my letter which is from uncle Thorn- ton. He apologizes to you for having stolen your scissors, and begs that you will accept in return the enclosed remembrance. " " Oh, mamma ! what a beautiful seal- ring. A sapphire ! I am sure I shall do no such thing. Accept a present of such value from a person I dislike ?" " A relation, Constance ! Oh, my dear, it would never do to refuse it." " And then to have to write a letter of thanks," said Constance in a mournful voice. " 1 am sure I have a mind to ask for my scissors back again, and say I do not want his ring. I dare say it cost twenty guineas." " A mere trifle to him, my dear ; and it is neither kind nor wise to reject his CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 45 friendly advances. He may be of use to your brothers if he lives." " He might have been," said Constance, colouring, " if he had chosen to exert him- self for Harry ; the only favour, too, you ever asked." " Well, my dear, that is past and gone, and Harry is with us instead of being in India, recollect that." " Yes, preparing for a profession he dis- likes — the church too ! Mamma, I hate uncle Thornton !" said Constance starting from her chair and throwing the ring across the table. " My dear, dear Constance," said Mrs. D'Oyley gently. " I am sure, mamma," said Constance running up to her, "that I did not mean to say anything wicked ; only if anything happen to Harry, if he ever turn out what we do not wish, I shall lay all the blame on Mr. Thornton. But I will keep the ring and write the letter, and do anything rather than vex you." 46 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. Mrs. D'Oyley kissed her affectionately, and Constance sat down to her desk. " There now !" she exclaimed as the bell rang. " Somebody coming to call just as I had found out how to begin ! I forget now ! Something very brilliant driven out of my head ! But I will go into the dining- room, and leave you to entertain the com- pany." So saying, she lifted her little desk in her arms, and was leaving the room when the servant threw open the door and an- nounced Mr. Forde. Constance stood still, and turning her head round, smiled and lifted her eyebrows with a little comic ex- pression of vexation. Mr. Forde having hastily spoken to Mrs. D'Oyley, came for- ward and relieved her of her burden. " Thank you," said Constance. fC If it had been one of my neighbours I could have done no less than faint at being caught in the fact : but strangers are different." " What fact ?" asked Mr. Forde. " Making my escape when the bell rang, CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 47 to finish a letter, or rather begin one. What, have you been absent from England so long, that you forget that very com- mon habit? — one I am sure you must have often indulged in; for men generally manage to escape morning visitors." " You see I am not polite enough to hope that I may not detain you from your letters," said Mr. Forde, " simply because I hope no such thing." " They are as well put off," said Con- stance ; " for I am in a very stupid frame of mind this morning, and willing to bestow my tediousness, ■ an 'twere a thousand times more than 'tis,' upon any one rather than my correspondent." " Is it possible that Miss D'Oyley can ever be tedious ?" " You shall have proof," said Constance. " It is a very fine day." " But it rained in the night," said Mr. Forde. " True, the weather is very unsettled at this time of the year," returned Constance. 48 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " The rain does a great deal of good," remarked Mr. Forde. " Yes, to the turnips. " " But the hay will be spoiled." " I am afraid so. Have you much hay t" " I should have— " " If it was not for the bad weather." " Exactly so." " Now is not that a real English conver- sation ?" said Constance, laughing. "Then come politics, then the choicest bit of scandal current, told of course with a very dejected face, and then good morning, and it is high time too." ct And this was what you were running away from just now." " Yes. Don't you think I was fully justi- fied in doing so ?" " I will allow it," said Mr. Forde, " as you did not carry your point." He then addressed himself to Mrs. D'Oyley ; but at every sentence she noticed, with some amusement, that he turned to CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 49 Constance as if anxious that she would join the conversation. " Do you know, Miss D'Oyley," said he, at last, " that I heard of you at Malta." " Indeed ! something very good, I hope, to travel such a long way." " I heard from a friend that Miss D'Oyley was so silent that it was impossible to make her speak." " How many friends have you, Mr. Forde ?" asked Constance. " How many ? I could not count them, without — " " Ay, I understand ; you have so many that you have not one. Now I have one friend, and nobody need expect to have more in a whole life-time." " And who is this friend ?" " Isabel Hernshaw." " Friendship is out of fashion except with young ladies," said Mr Forde. " Yes," returned Constance, quickly, " you need not tell me that every thing good is going out of fashion, except among VOL. I. d 50 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. women. What are you laughing at ? Friend- ship, or my defence of it ?" " Oh ! pray give me a definition of friend- ship," said Mr. Forde. " No ; that would be shewing a blind man colours." " But I really have a friend/ ' c< Then you do not want a definition. What were we talking of? Something very interesting ! Oh ! about me ! Your friend said I would not talk ; but that must have been a long while ago when I was afflicted with a complaint called shyness ; you may have heard of such a thing." " Don't you give me credit for having often suffered from it?" asked Mr. Forde. " No." " I am overpowered with it at this mo- ment. I am wishing very much to ask you to sing, and yet it is such a piece of presumption in the morning that I cannot muster courage." " I never encourage presumption," said Constance gaily. " And there, in good CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 51 time, is a ring at the bell ! Some one else coming to interrupt me ! Oh, my letters !" " I was the first aggressor," remarked Mr. Forde. " You don't look at all sorry for it," said Constance. " How can I?" he replied with much meaning. Lady Hernshaw and her daughter were announced, and at the same time Mr. Forde took leave. Constance thought her Ladyship very supercilious in her manner towards him ; but then his father had been a merchant, and he himself derived a con- siderable part of his large income from some commercial house. " I did not know you were so intimate with Mr. Forde," was the first thing Isabel said. " Nor are we," said Constance ; " this is his first visit." " I thought he seemed on such very fa- miliar terms," said Isabel. " All the fault of his manner, I sup- d 2 52 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. pose," replied Constance. " You see we did not shake hands." " You never do with gentlemen, my dear Constance," said Isabel. " How is Lord Bevis ?" asked Lady Hern- shaw in a voice of interest. " In his usual health," said Mrs. D'Oyley. " Mr. D'Oyley was with him yesterday evening." " What a pity, my dear Mrs. D'Oyley, that he persists in so strange a seclusion. Have you any idea whether there is any — " Mrs. D'Oyley could not supply the blank. " Any— madness in — " " Not that I am aware of," replied Mrs. D'Oyley. I will not say in what terms Lady Hern- shaw privately denounced Mrs. D'Oyley's want of communicativeness, but she changed the subject immediately. " By the bye, my dear Mrs. D'Oyley, what a sad young man that Mr. Forde is. I took care not to be at home when he CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 53 returned Sir George's call. A whole family of children at Elmsforde, I understand ? " Oh ! his sister's children, Mrs. Lang- ley's. I recollect Mr. D'Oyley mention- ing them, and he said they were beautiful creatures," replied Mrs. D'Oyley. " Cherubs, no doubt," said Lady Hern- shaw, looking thunder at so decisive a check-mate to her new bit of scandal. " Isa- bel, my dear, we have been paying quite a visitation to poor Mrs. D'Oyley. Con- stance, love, you must see about getting up your good looks again now that we have so many beaux in the neighbourhood." 54 CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. CHAPTER IV. The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. MILTON. Time passed on : May with its cold winds and dismal rainy days, which, how- ever, did contrive by some means to bring out the trees in all the brilliant and tender verdure that seldom survives that month. The halcyon days, which our elder poets describe, steeping their verses in the fresh odours and the warm sunlight of May are now held to be poetical imaginings ; and by poetical, people mean false and not true, which is the real meaning, as it is the deep, exhaustless heart of poetry. From time to time, indeed more fre- quently than was consistent with etiquette, CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 55 Mr. Forde found his way along the green lanes which led from his house to the rectory. At every visit he became more enchanted with the easy kindness, the singular integrity of character apparent in the disposition of Constance. For herself, she treated him with an ease so nearly approaching to unconcern as to be any- thing but encouraging : the most delight- ful footing for an acquaintance, but per- plexing enough to a man who was as nearly as possible a lover ! It was the end of May. Edgar had been sent home a few weeks before the holidays with a troublesome cough, which a little careful home management had brought under ; and a fine warm morning had tempted him and Constance into the garden to set their own peculiar flower-beds tho- roughly to rights. Edgar, soon tired of work, sat on the edge of the wheel-barrow talking ; Constance, more indefatigable, was tying up, and cutting, and planting, with great perseverance, not taking particular care, 56 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. when she had a handful of rubbish, to avoid throwing them on her brother, but letting him have an even chance with the wheel- barrow. " These carnations, Edgar ; oh ! do get me a couple of those green sticks from the shelf in the green-house. Thank you ; these are the finest in the whole parish. Lady Hernshaw has nothing like them." " Lady Hernshaw paints, doesn't she ?" said Edgar. " Oh, ladies never paint !" said Con- stance making a very long face. " Do you think these slips of jessamine would grow?" "Not at this time of year. Do you know, at our school, the boys had a feast the night before I came home, up in the bed-rooms." " And you all got tipsy, I suppose ?" ■ * I believe you ; at least I did." " So good for your cough that was — so like a gentleman too ? I heard of an old CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. man who had once been made tipsy at Eton, and who was so disgusted with him- self, that as long as he lived he never touched a drop of wine again. That was a man, now 1" Edgar murmured some indistinct remark to the effect that that old gentleman must have been a simpleton, and then changed discourse. " Oh look, Constance 1" he said, stand- ing on tiptoe that he might see over the shrubs, " what beautiful action that chest- nut horse has. If that horse was but mine — " " You would break your neck at once, instead of keeping us in daily expectation of that lamentable catastrophe. " " Do you know who it is ?" "The rider is Mr. Forde ; I have never been introduced to the chestnut horse." " What sort of a fellow is Mr. Forde V s " You will see for yourself most likely. He is coining hither, I dare say." "What is he coming for?" d 3 58 " Not to rob the hen-roost, nor inspect the locks that he may head a house- breaking party at night, nor to eat a cer- tain ravenous boy's share of luncheon, nor to — " " Be quiet, Constance !" " Well, I am quite tired now. I shall go in doors and leave you to make every thing neat before you follow me." She was just going up the steps when Mr. Forde, catching sight of her as he dis- mounted at the hall-door, came out to meet her. Edgar looked up at him and liking the fashion of his spurs and riding- whip, set him down for a very good fellow indeed. " I am going in doors," said Constance. " So am I then," replied Mr. Forde, turning back with her. " Papa is in his study," said Constance, pushing open the door as she passed on to the drawing-room. Mr. Forde went in much against his will, and after a few minutes' conversation CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 59 with Mr. D'Oyley, rejoined the ladies in the drawing-room. Constance was making up a parcel for Edgar to carry over to her cousins, the Hiltons, who lived a few miles off. "There, Edgar, that is the edition of Milton's smaller poems—to think of Mary never having read them — and that the first volume of the Huguenot. Now, if you drop these books — " " Oh, no fear of that, Constance." "You naughty little boy, look at your gloves. Give them to me — what disgrace- ful holes I" "Oh! I can't wait!" " Can't wait, ungrateful little creature !" said Constance, sewing very fast. " Do you think you are going to uncle Hilton's like a workhouse boy in these rags ? Take your hat off, and sit down." Mr. Forde was talking to Mrs. D'Oyley. " And I wonder," said Constance as she fastened off her thread, " who it was that I heard this morning coaxing Tim to sing a 60 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. very doleful ballad while he was cleaning his knives, and then laughing at him?" Edgar smiled and coloured. "All I hope is that you rewarded Tim handsomely for his exertions. Now, in the first place," said Constance, holding back the mended gloves, " you are to bring me an answer — " " Yes, I know." " You are not to break the pony's knees ; if you do, papa may forgive you, but I never can." "I am not going to." " Grammatical ! Next—" "Oh ! Constance, I want to be off!" " I know you do. Pay great attention to that steep bit of lane near Hillsted Church, and don't take him through the milt- stream coming back. There !" "' Thank you, dear," said Edgar, seizing his gloves and running out of the room. " On my word," said Constance turning to Mr. Forde, " you are always laughing at me." CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. 61 11 If you will be so amusing," he re- plied, " I cannot help it." " I hope then that you will be amusing in your turn," said Constance. " If you would give me my cue," said he; "I only wish to know how to amuse you. Do you like scandal ?" " Not much," said Constance. " Politics ?" " Not at all." " What do you read chiefly ?" " Any thing that interests me. I was reading this morning a little Italian work, II duca d'Atene." " Do you like Italian ?" " Very well. But oh ! how I wish that one could be mesmerised into a knowledge of German ! I wish so earnestly to read Schiller." " There are some good translations of German plays in the old numbers of Black- wood's — the Horse Germanicse." " But I never like poetry translated ; so 62 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. much of the pathos depends on the cadence." " Yes," said Mr. Forde, " I think a translated poem bears the same relation to the original, that a print does to a picture ; the colour is wanting, but the intention of the author is preserved." " Just look here," said Constance point- ing to the table : " that boy has left the books after all." " Then let me have the pleasure of taking them over for you," said Mr. Forde. " Not for the world. The books are of no consequence. It only shews what boys are," returned Constance. " I wish you would let me ride over with them ; you do not know how much I like to be useful." " But I could not flatter you by saying you would be useful in the present case. I shall see Mary in a day or two." " Still there is a note—" CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 63 " Jf Edgar has any wits left, he will remember that it was only to ask advice concerning the little insects on the green- house plants." " I have a remedy everybody has," said Mr. Forde; " but really you will find tobacco-smoke very efficacious." "Thank you," said Constance. "The next thing is to find a smoker ! Mamma, shall we send for all the old men from the almshouse, and seat them in full divan with a pipe a-piece?" Mrs. D'Oyley called Constance a giddy girl, and offered to shew Mr. Forde the green-house and the suffering plants, her invalids as Constance termed them. Mr. Forde told them the best way of fumi- gating, and then paused to admire the nice appearance of the plants. " I am taking every word you say as a compliment," said Constance; " for it is literally my work. I have no gardeners and sub-gardeners toiling while I take the praise." 64 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " I don't believe you ever could take praise you had not earned, " said Mr. Forde earnestly. "Ah!" said she, " do you study cha- racter ?" " If I did," thought Mr. Forde, " your's would baffle me." It was not only that she did not seek admiration, but she really and gravely be- lieved herself incapable of exciting it. He looked at her as she stood with the sun shining across her rich hair, the delicate bloom on her cheek heightened by talking, her long eyelashes cast down as she ar- ranged some bending flower, unconsciously, for her thoughts were otherwise employed. He marked that tremulous, half-smiling movement of the lips, so surely indicative of extreme sensibility. He stood in per- fect silence for some time, and wondered (it is a fancy sometimes with those who love) how she would move, what she would say or do next. At last Constance, start- ing a little, drew her watch from her waist- CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 65 band and glancing at it, held it smilingly to Mr. Forde. " Is it possible ?" he exclaimed. "Very easily possible," said she; " I have an engagement this afternoon with a poor woman ; and you, I dare say, are engaged with a much finer one somewhere or other." " I have, indeed, an annoying engage- ment to dinner some ten miles off," he said. "Well, then, I pity you; I can do no more," she replied. " If you would give me a flower to wear, I should be more than consoled," said he. He spoke as if half in jest. " Well, I never met with such uncon- scionable begging I" exclaimed Constance, " unprincipled, I may say ! What ! do you pay no more respect to your own fine con- servatories than to come hither and ask for flowers? I am shocked at you." Mr. Forde began to stammer, but she shook her head and passed him into the drawing-room. 66 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. "I am driven away," he said to Mrs. D'Oyley as he entered. " I am sure I hope not," said she politely. " I will tell you my only excuse for mak- ing such unreasonable calls," said Mr. Forde turning to Constance, " I meet you so seldom anywhere." Constance did not say that she was so attached to home that she could scarcely bear to leave it, although that was more true in her case than in most others ; she replied frankly : " I know it : we are not rich enough to keep much company, so w T e go out but little in return ; you understand?" Mr. D'Oyley came into the drawing- room soon after Mr. Forde had taken his leave, and he and Constance chanced to be alone there. " My dear," he said after a pause. " Yes, papa," returned Constance. " I think Mr. Forde seems to be coming very often to our house." " So I think, papa," replied Constance ; CONSTANCE d'OYLEY. 67 There was a long silence ; at last she said : " Too often, do you think, papa ?" " That depends very much upon yourself, my dear ;" said her father. " I should be glad that you attached no meaning to his visit s." " Indeed, papa, I do not," said Con- stance blushing, " however, I have nei- ther beauty nor money to attract him. I look on him merely as an agreeable ac- quaintance." She thought so. 68 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. CHAPTER V. Look you — I have fitted A husband for you, noble and deserving i No shrinking back ! THE LADY'S TRIAL. Los ojos cuya lumbre bien pudiera Tornar clara la noche tenebrosa, Y escurecer el sol a mediadia Me convirti^ron luego en otra cosa. GARCILASO DE LA VEGA. I have said that Lady Hernshaw was a very clever woman, and it may readily be supposed that this excellence was peculiarly displayed in the management of and for her beautiful daughter. Her instructions had made Isabel at eighteen an elegant woman : she conversed well, wrote well, dressed well, feigned well — the most needful lesson CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 6 of all ; and had as nearly as possible sup- pressed all those emotions which are most natural and becoming to a young mind. Lady Hernshaw knew that genuine im- pulses, like real tears on the stage, are not half so graceful, and seldom as effective as those which are assumed in nice propor- tion to the object required. Her reasons for so doing were common and easily divined ; but her training was admira- ble. Her daughter must make a great match. To accomplish this, she was gracefully edu- cated ; not loaded with erudition, but po- lished and well-informed on topics of light literature. She was not indulged in habits of female intimacy, she had no young friends with cross-barred correspondence to engross her fancy and encourage her in dreams of romantic attachments. She was made false; how else could she be brought to pledge her faith to any man her mother might select ? She was heartless ; or her whole nature, the very pulses of her life, would revolt from a marriage without affection. The only young 70 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. person with whom she was at all acquainted was Constance D'Oyley. There was a rea- son for Lady Hernshaw permitting her daughter to cultivate the society of the D'Oyleys, independently of the very obvious one that Constance was not attractive to the other sex; should she chance to marry, Lady Hernshaw knew that she would directly be pronounced the lovely Mrs. So-and-so, but as a single woman she did not happen to excite any general admiration. But Lady Hernshaw in common with many other clever people, entertained, where her per- sonal interest was concerned, views whose wildness would startle your merely sensible woman. She had for years past fixed upon Lord Bevis as the husband of her daughter, and Mr. D'Oyley was the only person who had access to that eccentric individual. She knew that in the world of London there are a great many more handsome girls than there are lords to marry them ; and she knew also that although Sir George Hern- CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. 71 shaw had made a great deal of money in speculations, he had lost a great deal too, and that Isabel had nothing but her beauty to advance her in life. She knew nothing, it is true, of the person of Lord Bevis, but she was very well acquainted with the extent of his property, and she was satisfied that she could secure nothing more advanta- geous for her daughter than his Lordship's hand. And connected with the D'Oyleys was some vague hope just amounting to the absence of despair, that Lord Bevis might be induced to relax the strictness of his seclusion in their favour, and that Isabel, through her intimacy with them, might at some time or other be thrown in his way. But fortune, which sometimes takes a pleasure in frustrating the most laudable efforts had hitherto afforded no assistance to her schemes ; still perseverance was a vir- tue which Lady Hernshaw possessed in an eminent degree, and we shall see that in due time she reaped her reward. " What a stupid evening we have passed, 72 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. my dear Isabel," said Lady Hernshaw, set- tling herself in her corner of the carriage as they rolled home from a quadrille party held at the house of a friend, " I am very glad your father did not accompany us." " Mrs. Allingham's parties are always so dull," returned her daughter; " such a very bad style of young men one always meets there !" " Young Mr. Forde is decidedly hand- some," said Lady Hernshaw ; " although it is as well for me to remark, en passant, that he is quite out of your w T ay. " " Do you think him handsome ?" said Miss Hernshaw, languidly. " Decidedly. And really he has a very good manner. If he were but a marquis, Isabel !" Miss Hernshaw was pulling her bouquet to pieces in silence ; perhaps it was well that the darkness concealed her blushes. " You talked a great deal to him," said her Ladyship. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 73 " Oh ! he is very amusing," replied Isa- bel carelessly. " Be guarded," returned her mother, " it is not always safe to amuse oneself at the expense of a man's feelings. The thing gets about: now that silly Clifton, who — " "Oh, worse than that !" cried Isabel. " Poor Mr. Bohun ! I cannot bear to think of that ; but it was not my fault." " Whose fault then?" exclaimed Lady Hernshaw, whose temper was very quickly roused ; " a man pays his addresses to a young girl which are not acceptable to her parents, and they are declined ; such things I hope are not of very rare occur- rence. Let me hear no farther allusion to that subject." Isabel, who certainly did not number violence of temper among her faults, sighed and was silent ; and Lady Hernshaw after indulging in a short monologue concerning the toils of mothers, and the ingratitude of daughters, followed her example and soon after fell into a doze. She was startled vol. i. E 74 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. out of it by a flash of lightning which lit the whole surrounding landscape into day, and revealed for a moment the pale face of her daughter, who was sitting erect and motionless with the tears still standing on her beautiful cheek. A peal of thunder followed that seemed to shake the earth — then another flash, with a crash close upon it, and then a sudden torrent of enormous hail-stones. The horses stood still cower- ing beneath the storm. " Oh, how terrible !" said Isabel cover- ing her eyes. " It is, indeed — another — what a peal ! No animals will bear this. Is there no house near ?" " None," said Isabel, as the whole length of road was again illuminated with terrible distinctness ; " I know where we are." " Some way from home, are we not ?" " Oh, yes ! three miles nearly." " What can we do?" The servant came round to the carriage CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 75 door at the same moment to repeat the question. "It is better to wait a little, Henry, no horses can face this storm ; but are we near any trees ?" "Not very near, my Lady ; but we are just on the brow of the hitt." "That's bad, is it not?" " Yes, my Lady. Barton says a man was struck last year by lightning here- abouts, and two sheep the year before. " Servants always do remember these kind things just at the right time. Just then a horseman followed by another dashed past the carriage at full gallop. At the same instant of time, a blaze of fearful brilliancy enveloped earth and sky in one sheet of flame, while a burst of thunder, more awful than any of the others, rolled long and loud over head. The horse of the foremost rider fell headlong to the ground, and of course the horseman was precipitated with him. For some moments the inmates of the carriage were too much engrossed by e 2 76 their own plunging horses to inquire the fate of the rider ; but soon after a voice at a little distance was heard to cry out : 11 A light, a light, for God's sake ! My Lord is killed !" ■ ( It is Lord Bevis," cried Lady Hern- shaw. " Henry, go directly — take one of the carriage lamps." Now Lady Hernshaw was a very kind- hearted woman ; she would give her daugh- ter deliberately into the hands of a fool or a profligate, provided he were of sufficient quality ; but any person in distress was sure to command her warmest assistance, par- ticularly if his suffering took place imme- diately under her own eye. She leaned from the window and tried to listen to the low muttered conversation that the men were holding a few paces in advance of the carriage. At last she called her servant to her. " What is the matter, Henry ? Anything very serious ?" CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 77 ( ' The gentleman seems stunned , my Lady . " " Had he not better be brought into the carriage ? The storm seems abating. We can more easily procure assistance for him at home." " I'll see, my Lady." Another low consultation with the other servant ensued, after which he approached the carriage. " I am sorry, madam," he said, in a manner superior to that of an ordinary ser- vant, " to be compelled to decline your obliging offer, it is very much against my inclination ; but my Lord is so averse to seeing any strangers, even for an instant, that I have no alternative." " But surely," said Lady Hernshaw eagerly, " this is no time for scruples. I only propose that he should share our car- riage as far as my house ; it is then at his disposal to convey him home." The man replied that if possible he would persuade his Lord to accept her kind- ness, and went back to his master. 78 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. In a few moments he returned with Lord Be vis leaning on his arm, who, lifting his hat to the eager inquiries of Lady Hern- shaw, said in a very low confused manner, that he was sufficiently recovered to pro- ceed, and could not possibly intrude him- self upon her party. Lady Hernshaw grasping her daughter's arm, whispered in her ear : " Ask him — you 1" Isabel knew by the trembling of her mother's hand that she was very much excited. This husband hunting after all is something like field sports — angling or shooting — there's a little enlivening uncer- tainty about it at all times. " Pray, pray come in," said Isabel lean- ing forwards, and speaking in the sweetest tones of her delightful voice. " Indeed, after such a terrible fall, you do very wrong to expose yourself to this weather ; it is beginning to rain again." The dim light of the lamp fell on her exquisite figure and snowy arms, and sha- CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 79 dowed forth her faultless features and lus- trous eyes, and her glittering light auburn hair folded back beneath a coronal of blush roses. Before she had finished her sen- tence, Lord Bevis had his foot on the step and in another moment he had taken his place in the carriage. Anxiously as Lady Hernshaw scanned him, she could distin- guish nothing of his figure beneath the heavy folds of his cloak. As he passed through the streak of lamplight, she dis- cerned that his face was of a ghastly pale- ness ; but then people do not usually look their very best after a heavy fall. She was certain he would do very well for Isabel. His defects of person could not be so very bad — she perceived nothing of them — and besides, they did not diminish his estates by a single acre. No encounter could be more fortunate. Lady Hernshaw was no novice ; she did not endeavour to ingra- tiate herself with her prize by a torrent of assiduous questions ; her object was to put him at his ease with them by degrees. 80 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " You are better now, dearest/' said she pressing her daughter's hand. " You were sadly frightened and no wonder ; it was a dreadful storm." " Were you frightened ?" said Lord Bevis in the same low voice. "True, you have so much at stake — so much beauty. Now I — I scarcely know what fear is." " Ah !" thought Lady Hernshaw, he has nothing of the tone of good society; talks of his feelings and all that sort of thing. " You know, my Lord," she said, " we women claim the privilege of coward- ice without disgrace, and this poor girl, indeed, made large use of her right : she almost fainted." " Most natural !" said Lord Bevis. " And yet in storm or calm, the same heaven hangs over all!" " Oh dear, how awkward !" thought her Ladyship. " I do believe the man is reli- gious ; and then, indeed, there is no know- ing. However, we must make the best of it ;" and she directly remembered, and CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 81 said, something about men being likened to worms or grass. " At all times," he replied ; " but it is only when they are measured by circum- stances that they feel a truth too common to be well understood." " Oh, this is dreadful !" thought Lady Hernshaw. " But all his talking cannot melt down his property, that is my com- fort !" How desperately vulgar guilt is, and how individual ! How many noble peasants, and coarsely thinking ladies in velvet gowns does experience bring before us ! " I do hope we are not driving too fast for you," said Isabel. " Not at all, I thank you," replied Lord Bevis. " Do you feel better ?" she asked timidly. " Quite, quite well," he returned. The carriage stopped. Lord Bevis got out and offered the ladies his hand, me- chanically as it seemed ; where he learned that piece of civilization, Lady Hernshaw e 3 82 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. could not conjecture. He followed them into the hall like one in a dream, and stood gazing upon Isabel with such deep abstrac- tion as not to be aware that Lady Hern- shaw was speaking to him, until she had repeated her question several times. " Will you not allow me to send for our medical man ?" " On no account. With your permis- sion I will avail myself of your carriage immediately to take me home. ,, " Pray be persuaded to take some re- freshment." " Nothing, thank you— I am going home to dinner." He forgot it was anything remarkable to dine at two o'clock in the morning. Isabel who acted beneath her mother's eye, as birds are said to do beneath the gaze of the rattlesnake, now approached him. " Do you know," said she, with her brilliant smile which lit her face into the likeness of a seraph's, all love and wisdom, ' ' do you know we have half a right to keep you here, now we have you ; because, if CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 83 any harm should happen from your not taking advice, we should feel ourselves very much to blame." Those winning tones fell like dew upon the ear of the solitary man. He seemed at first scarcely able to reply ; then coming up to her and taking her hand as he might have touched a queen's, he said : " An hour ago I should have thought an adventure so foreign to my habits, a most vexatious occurrence ; now, with far more cause for lasting regret, I esteem my- self beyond expression happy." Isabel not exactly applying his words, stood silent, with a sweet smile on her lips, and it was not until he had left the house, that she turned and met her mother's look of triumph. " Good girl," she said, " he's yours. You shall be Lady Be vis." 11 I ?" said poor Isabel trembling with fear and wonder " You doubt it?" said her Ladyship as the carriage rolled from the door. " There goes your husband, Isabel." 84 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. CHAPTER VI. Oh ! deal magnanimously with me, nor What 'tis not wrong to feel, when thou dost feel it, Believe 'tis wrong to speak ! — Frankly ! couldstlove me? woman's wit. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words. SHAKSPEARE. " Yes, it is very fine, very fine indeed, to sit with your legs out of the window, and carve your name on the window-seat with my pen-knife instead of doing your lesson," exclaimed Constance. " Come Edgar, now, tirer /" " Cannot you show it ?" asked Con- stance. " What before mamma? Oh, Con- stance ! if she does not think me agreeable enough to him, I have seen her lips turn white with rage." " My dear Isabel !" said Constance. " But he really has the best heart — so kind, so considerate ; the very nurse who caused the mischief lives on his bounty in a cottage, somewhere. I am sure I wish she had not let him fall. And he has so long wanted something to love, and fixed so unfortunately upon me." " And cannot you love such a man ?" CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 117 " Why, Constance, you don't know how short he is. And then his voice is low, but very harsh ; only fancy if he were to speak loud, and if he does but pass his hand through his hair, he looks exactly like a maniac ; indeed, I should not wonder if he were a little mad." " And what will you do ?" "Just what mamma pleases, and you know what that will be. Lady Bevis ! any- thing for a coronet ! Not that I care for such things ; for so that I could have every thing handsome about me, I have no ambi- tion at all to make a great match." " Oh ! dear Isabel, don't deceive him," said Constance, "there's too much at stake; think what he would feel to find, when it is too late, that you never gave him your heart." " Oh, but I really mean— let's see— to- morrow I am going to a ball ; but next day, or some day soon, I will sit down and talk myself into loving him." 118 CONSTANCE d'c-YLEY. " No, do not laugh about it !" " No/' said Isabel, who had talked her- self into a very excited state, " no, because after all it will end in a tragedy. I shall marry a man I hate, and in course of time run away with a man I love ; my husband will shoot himself, and I—" " Oh ! for the sake of womanhood," ex- claimed Constance, "do not say so, even in jest ; do not believe such a termination possible. Let nothing, no threats, no bribe, lead you to marry where you do not love. Oh, surely there is nothing that life affords worth such a falsehood !" " Well, but you would not let me finish my picture," said Isabel very calmly ; " I was going to say, I should die in a work- house." " Why will you pain me by talking so ?" asked Constance. " I am sure," said Isabel, laughing heart- ily? " y° u could not say that I should not deserve such a catastrophe." CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 119 " Perhaps not ; but I should not be the less sorry," said Constance, half- frightened by her friend's changing manner. " Would you come and see me?" asked Isabel. " Oh, do not talk so I" " Well, but would you?" " Of course I would," returned Con- stance. " And now be serious : as soon as you can, write to Lord Bevis, and be very honest ; then when you have explained your feelings, if you are both contented — " " I'll tell you, Constance," said Isabel. " Once, when I really think I had a heart, you know the time mamma made me write to Captain Bohun, I carried a letter of my own about me for three weeks in the hopes of finding some means of sending it ; and when we walked out, mamma sus- pected me, I think, and always took the side of the way next the letter box. Not one of the servants would have dared take it for me, and at last I burnt it. Now judge what chance I have of sending one ; besides, her 120 fury, if the match were broken off— -you have no idea at all of mamma. " Constance felt very glad that she had not. " At least," pursued Isabel, " unless you would help me." "But how, dear Isabel? You would not have a letter pass through my hands ; you know I should not be justified in — " " No, not that way ; but I have some hope of escape now I hear that Captain Bohun is in the neighbourhood, if I could but meet him." " But Isabel, dear, two years have passed ; even you might be forgotten in that time." Isabel smiled, and said " he had been very ill-treated, certainly ; but still she thought that a word from her would have the effect of inducing him to forget all the past, Only, Constance, when you see him, try and learn how he feels towards me, and then I shall know what to do next. One thing I am resolved on, any marriage is preferable to the life I lead CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 121 at home. I will accept any alternative to escape from this roof." " I will try and find out what you wish," said Constance ; " but Captain Bohun is so very silent that even if I chance to see him, you must not be disappointed if I learn nothing. And do wait before you decide against Lord Bevis, because time will reconcile you to his peculiarities ; and he seems to be so excellent a person." " Will you change, Constance ?" said Isabel, as her friend rose to take leave. " What do you mean, dear ?" " Why, if you should grow tired of Mr. Forde, I will take him off your hands in exchange for Lord Bevis." Constance laughed and blushed a little, but made no answer. " You won't?" said Isabel, holding her back as she was about to leave the room. "Ah! Constance, all his virtues would never reconcile you to his appearance, though you have been exhorting me in his behalf." VOL. I. G 122 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " I'm sure they would," said Constance, slipping out of the room, " if — if I were not—" " Better engaged !" said Isabel ; and Constance heard her silver laugh as she went down stairs. She had been a little agitated by her conversation, and so took a path that would lead her home by a somewhat longer route, through a meadow and by the side of the mill-stream, a winding brook that led among rushes and osiers, over a pebbly bed and through rocky banks, with here and there a clump of ash or a sturdy oak reflected in the transparent water. A sudden turn in the stream brought her in sight of two persons engaged in fishing; Edgar was one, and to her great surprise, Captain Bohun the other. " Hush ! Constance, now don't speak a word I" cried Edgar with great eagerness, totally forgetting that one voice was nearly as bad for sport as another ; " you'll startle the fish ! There's such a beauty under that CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 123 stone— there— you can hardly see him ; and keep from the bank or he'll catch sight of your pink gown. Now — gently now ; don't laugh !" Constance could not obey the last part of his directions ; for she had, by no means, a profound idea of his sagacity as a brother of the angle, and he was encumbered, moreover, with a rod much too long for him, and an old green fishing jacket of his brother's that came over his fingers' ends. Captain Bohun took off his hat, and she was going to pass at once, but remembering Isabel's entreaties, she paused. "I am really sorry I came this way," said she ; " I know it is very provoking to be interrupted in fishing : it is almost the only thing that puts my brother out of temper." "What! is he so devoted an angler?" said Captain Bohun smiling, and laying his hand on Edgar's shoulder. " No, my eldest brother, the owner of g 2 124 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. that jacket, " replied Constance, bursting into a fresh laugh as she surveyed it. Captain Bohun laughed too, and Edgar coloured up and told Constance that she was a humbug. " But I assure you I am not so keen a sportsman as to regret such an interruption," said Captain Bohun in a very pleasant manner. Constance bowed, and was about to pass him again ; but he looked as if he was going to speak, as with a woman's readi- ness she turned to Edgar, and asked him if he had really caught anything. " I had a bite though," he replied, " and if you had not come up just then — " Another laugh came from Constance and Captain Bohun ; after all, she thought, if he was silent, there was some fun about him. " We mean to have capital sport next time," he said, looking at Edgar ; " this is not a good day for fishing—much too clear ; we are not in fault nor our tackle either." " I should think not," said Edgar, screw- ing the joints of his rod very hard together. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 125 " I think," said Captain Bohun, " you know some people in this neighbourhood with whom I was formerly acquainted." " Yes," said Constance, " the Hernshaws." " How are they?" asked Captain Bohun. " Sir George used to be very — " Very stupid, Constance knew he was, but she did not know he was afflicted with any other complaint, so she said they were all very well. "And Miss Hernshaw?" he said, hesi- tating. " I have just been to see her," replied Constance ; " she is well, and I do think more beautiful than ever." Now Constance was herself looking re- markably pretty that morning, with the most lovely bloom on her cheeks which gave more than usual brilliancy to her soft grey eyes. Captain Bohun glanced at her as if he thought so ; at least, he received her intel- ligence with great unconcern, and asked carelessly if Miss Hernshaw was going to be married. 126 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. Constance replied with some confusion that she didn't know exactly. There was a short pause, and then she said : " How strange I should meet you ! Isabel had just been inquiring about you." "She does me great honour," said Cap- tain Bohun, disdainfully. " Well," said Constance, rather mis- chievously ; "I think it was mutual after all— this honour." Captain Bohun smiled and acknowledged that she was right, and as she turned her steps towards home, he took up his tackle and prepared to accompany her. " I say," exclaimed Edgar in an impres- sive whisper, and pulling Constance back by the sleeve, "papa has asked him and Eustace to dinner, so I came with him to fish, and I heard cook asking mamma to give out some cranberries, and I dare say it's for a tart ; and Tim and I went down to the stable to look at his horse, and it's a regular good one, an iron-grey, and I'll be bound we shall find Mr. Forde when we CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 127 get home ; and Eustace stopped behind to smoke a cigar down in the yard, and oh ! such fun ! he gave one to Tim and made him ill." " I can tell Eustace if he does so again, I shall be very angry with him," said Con- stance ; " he is just like a monkey, so ugly and mischievous !" When the party assembled before dinner, Mr. Forde was beside Constance, helping her to make a small bouquet from a mag- nificent cluster of choice flowers which he had brought her. There is no occupation so graceful and becoming as that of ar- ranging flowers — to a pretty woman at least ; but Constance, quite unconscious that she was looking very charming, went on select- ing, and grouping, and throwing some aside, until she had finished her own and her mamma's nosegay ; while Mr. Forde and Captain Bohun and her cousin stood watching her. " Now which is the best of these two," said she raising her eyes to Mr. Forde ; 128 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " take time to consider, because you know it is a very important subject." Mr. Forde stooped down and whispered something to her ; she blushed and laughed, and shook her head. Nonsense, I dare say it was, or he would have said it out loud. However, she gave him a moss rose-bud, and went to fasten one in her papa's coat, and presented one of the bouquets to her mamma, and asked to be praised for tying it up so nicely, and then returned to her seat. " Are we to be excluded ?" asked Eustace in his usual tone. " Eh ?" said Constance rather sharply. He repeated the question a little more clearly. " Now I hear," said she. Captain Bohun smiled. Constance caught his eye and nearly laughed out. "It is a great deal more than you deserve," said she, giving him a flower; "but, however, here is to your speedy amendment, and wishing you may leave off smoking at your earliest con- CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 129 venience : is that the way they propose toasts in your's ?" " Our's don't generally drink toasts, I think," said Eustace. " Tee-totallers perhaps !" returned Con- stance. Eustace warmly endeavoured to exculpate his regiment from so heinous a charge. Constance turned to Captain Bohun and offered him a beautiful rose in silence. He thanked her, and asked if she had ever studied the language of flowers. " Not one word," said she, "of that French nonsense that was published some time ago, that unnatural attempt to pervert flowers from their real meaning ; but they have a language to people who are fond of them — a morality, a poetry, and all our homely English flowers are registered by our early poets in fragments that must make the literature of the whole world seem poor beside them." '•' I didn't know, Constance, that you were romantic," said Eustace. "Don't regret it," said Constance; "it g3 130 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. was ignorance on your part, certainly ; but still don't be sorry, because when one thinks that you've been all the way to Malta and back again, one feels what a number of things you must know ; what with the government house, and the churches, and the orange trees, and the barracks, you must have come home stored with such a quantity of facts and ideas that for my part I'm quite afraid of you." Eustace did not exactly understand his cousin, but he had a vague idea that she admired him very much, perhaps not quite so much this time as the last, because he did not happen to have his uniform on ; still there was no doubt he was an officer all the same, and he only hoped she recollected that circumstance ; but before he had quite made up his mind, dinner was announced, and Constance glided past him on Mr. Forde's arm, leaving him to bring up the rear with Master Edgar. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 131 CHAPTER IX. I was proud : I did prevail with one whose youth and beauty- Deserved a choice more suitable in both : Love drove the bargain, and the truth of love Confirmed it, I conceived. THE LADY'S TRIAL. Yes, yes ! that boon, lire's richest treat He had, or fancied that he had — Say, 'twas but in his own conceit, The fancy made him glad. The fair fulfilment of his poesy, When his young heart first yearn'd for sympathy ! COLERIDGE. It cannot be supposed that Lady Hern- shaw continued during this time in a state of inactivity. On the contrary, she was forwarding her daughter's interests by every means in her power. ]32 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. She encouraged Lord Bevis ; she terri- fied Isabel ; and she instructed Sir George to be ready with his consent and blessing at any moment that they might be asked. So well did she prepare things, that a very short time elapsed before Lord Bevis de- manded an interview with Sir George, and made a formal tender of his hand, which was as formally accepted. Sir George lost not an instant in communicating the wel- come news to his lady, and she proceeded instantly, in a state of great exultation to her daughter's dressing-room, whom she found under the hands of her maid complet- ing rather a late morning toilet, the result of a very late ball the night before. " Josephine, you may go," said Lady Hernshaw 7 . The maid disappeared instantly. Isabel selected a brooch from her jewel- box, and began to fasten it very carefully into her dress. "Lord Bevis is here, love/' said her Ladyship. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 133 " Dear, how early he comes !" said Isa- bel. " I thought I should have had time to finish this novel. I prefer it infinitely to his conversation." " You must not say so now," said Lady Hernshaw ; " he has just proposed to your father, and has been accepted." This delightful intelligence produced a violent burst of tears from Isabel, and these in turn called forth a series of bitter upbraidings from her mother. " Ungrateful creature !" she exclaimed ; " is this the only means that suggests itself to you of thanking me for my assi- duity ? Would you have ever received this splendid proposal, I wonder, but for my care ?" " I cannot be grateful, mamma," said Isabel through her tears, " I cannot love Lord Bevis." " I should be obliged to you to inform me," said her Ladyship, taking her seat with much dignity in an arm chair just opposite to her daughter, "who ever expressed the 134 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. slightest wish that you should love Lord Bevis ? I believe I never required it of you." "No, mamma," replied Isabel;" but if I could—" " I really hope that your very expensive education has not been so utterly wasted," said Lady Hernshaw, " that you mean to indulge in the village vulgarities of a regular sweetheart. I trust I did not pay two hundred a-year to Mademoiselle Bertine to teach you to fall in love like a milk-maid." " I learned, I do think, falsehood enough from her to content you," said Isabel, struggling with her tears. " There's your poor father," said Lady Hernshaw, shifting her mode of attack, " rejoicing over your good fortune ; an event which may prove very useful to him when he happens to be a little dis- tressed for ready money. Your Lord has more than he can possibly want." " Am I to be sold then ?" exclaimed Isabel, roused for a moment into anger; " for— for— " CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 135 She knew too well that anger would avail her nothing, and sat down in mute despondency, leaning her arm on her toilet, and turning her head from her mother that she might not perceive her emotion. " If you will kindly inform me, Miss Hernshaw," said her Ladyship coldly, " when those tears are likely to cease, I will then return for you ; don't hurry, on any account. Lord Bevis is waiting in the library to receive you ; but he will only the better prepare his raptures for your condescension by this short delay." " He will not treat me as my mother does," thought Isabel ; " I will escape from this even to him." She dried her eyes, and turning to the glass, arranged the rich folds of her pale silk dress, while her mother adjusted her beautiful lace collerette, and then they went smiling down stairs hand in hand. " I have brought this poor, silly, fright- ened girl with me, my Lord," said Lady Hernshaw, "that she may tell you what 136 CONSTANCE d'OYLEY. I know she feels, naturally with more effect than I can do." She placed her daughter's hand in that of Lord Bevis and left the room. Now Isabel expected a burst of joyful thanks, such as she had received on several occasions, and she schooled herself accord- ingly ; but when Lord Bevis, still holding her hands in his, preserved a long and absolute silence, with his melancholy eyes fixed full upon her, she became totally un- nerved, and suddenly breaking away from him, she threw herself upon a sofa and burst again into tears. " Isabel I" said Lord Bevis, seating him- self beside her. She looked up. He seemed to have taken a desperate resolve and hurried on. "I hardly dare to interpret your emotion ; but, if you would shew mercy to me, tell me at once whether you can love me. Believe me, it will be with no surprise that I shall hear your sentence, if, as I fear, it is unfavourable to my hopes. I cannot expect to win you. Now, with CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 137 your hand in mine, your mother's voice in my ear that seemed to give you to me, I do believe I never can attain your heart. Yet, stay ; perhaps you have not thought that while your exquisite beauty might purchase from other men the divided homage of a few short years, I devote to you the whole affections of a heart in which no other idol has ever reigned for an instant. Can these weigh with you against those graces in which I know myself defi- cient ? Will time— I do not press for a speedy answer ; will any thing — " Isabel had hastily brushed the tears from her eyes, and sat listening ; and when through his agitation he ceased to speak, she collected her thoughts, and knew that she must make him some reply. She felt that she dared not refuse him ; her mother would never forgive her : she was unhappy enough now, but then her condition would be insupportable. She felt no sympathy for his condition, and very little gratitude for his love. All 138 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. the best feelings of the heart cannot be long stifled with impunity; but she knew that wealth and luxury were certain to attend her as the wife of Lord Be vis, and though she trembled as she surveyed him, she made an effort and began, "My Lord, I feel that— " But here some remembrance seemed to cross her mind, and she paused. " You have but to say one word," said Lord Bevis ; " to banish me from your presence for ever, perhaps broken- hearted, but still more content than if by my success I caused you an instant's pain." Isabel was touched a little ; she even thought it would be wrong to trifle with such earnest affection, it would be better to undeceive him at once. She rose, but as she was about to speak she heard her mother's footsteps pass the door, not as if about to enter, but the very sound re- called her to a sense of her obligations ; she turned to Lord Bevis who stood beside her, as pale as marble. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 139 "If," she said softly, and extending her hand as she spoke, " you can value any thing so unworthy — " She felt that he clasped her to his heart ; she heard him pouring forth his thanks and blessings in a voice that seemed to her far distant: confused by the sickness of her brain and heart, she sat with all the feelings that announce the approach of fainting, yet without the relief of utter insensibility. 140 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. CHAPTER X. Thou fairest, yet the falsest woman That ever broke man's heart-strings ! THE NICE VALOUR. Of love good friends this is my rede Howe'er secure you seem to be, All joy may in a moment flee ; Mine seemed all joy and truth, by Heaven, Yet lasted not a whole day even : 'Tis, where nought is sure, sheer folly In false love to trust so wholly. BERNARD OF VENTADOUR. " Are you not happy, Constance?" said Isabel. She had been drinking tea at the rectory ; for now that her marriage was arranged, Lady Hernshaw set no bounds to her indulgence, and allowed her to see as much of her friend as was compatible with the demand CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 141 Lord Bevis made upon her society, and they had strolled out in the cool evening. Isabel and Constance, Mr. Forde and Edgar, and the two friends were now seated under a cluster of tall elms, having sent on their escort to gather flowers from the tangled hedge that skirted a neighbouring park, and ran along one side of the narrow lane down which they had walked, the rosy hues of the fading hawthorns proclaiming that the scent had departed, and the stray- ing branches of honey-suckle and sweet- briar filling the cool air with delicious per- fume. " Are you not quite happy, Constance ?" she repeated. " 1 am, indeed," said Constance, rousing herself from a reverie which the absolute stillness of the air had brought on ; " I can scarcely believe my happiness. There is only one subject on which I feel anxious, and that is your engagement with — " " Oh ! but, dear Constance, set your mind at rest," said Isabel ; " I never ex- 142 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. pected you know to marry a person whom I liked ; I knew mamma would not let me choose, and she might have done worse for me. But you are a miracle, Constance ! the course of your true love seems to run so smooth." " Oh! I hope it may not be too smooth," said Constance. " I cannot tell you, Isabel, how devoted he seems to me, and I have nothing but an honest heart ; surely, men are never won and retained by that alone." " You are looking so pretty just now, Constance," said her friend, "with your bright hair just ruffled, giving such a dim radiance to your head and face, and that carmine colour mounting softly up as you talk, you are yourself the best answer to your doubts." " Ay, Isabel, you can afford to be gene- rous," said Constance, smiling as she turned her eyes upon her friend, who, in all the languid grace of her surpassing beauty, had fallen into a position from which a sculptor might have drawn inspiration. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 143 " There is something very pleasant in a coronet/' said Isabel, after a short silence. " I shall have it embroidered on every- thing I possess. I had better make the most of a toy that I shall purchase so dearly." " Oh, Isabel," said Constance, " a word from you would set you free at once." " Ah ! that is a very weak argument," returned her friend ; " it may be as difficult to speak one w T ord as to break through iron bars sometimes ; and you are not very con- siderate to Lord Bevis either, who is always so pleased when he hears I am going to see you, thinking, and with some reason too, that you have a share of your good father's excellence. I have settled one thing, Constance," she continued, " and that is, that we will both be married on the same day ; so recollect. I am sure you would not oppose me in such a trifle ; and then you will see my Lord, and what a gratification that will be ! Oh, here comes Mr. Forde and Edgar, and somebody they have picked 144 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. up by the way ! I hope a pleasant addition to our party ; for you, no offence, my dear Constance, contrive to monopolize the eyes and conversation of your faithful swain. Oh, thank you, Mr. Forde what delicious honey-suckle !" Constance was w T ondering at the sudden change in her friend's manner, so different from what she could herself assume, w r hen she saw Isabel stop short, change colour, and look breathlessly towards the gentle- man who was coming leisurely along with Edgar. It was Captain Bohun. " He must still be attached to her," thought Constance, " he is always about the neighbourhood." Captain Bohun had a small pocket-book open in his hand, and Edgar was looking over the contents as they came slowly up. Flies for fishing they seemed to be. " It is the best I know/' she heard him say, as he joined them; "I don't think trout would rise to any other, at least in this month." CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 145 " Oh, yes !" cried Edgar, " there's a very pretty fly Tom Barlow makes, which he says beats every thing for trout ; he lives at the mill, the boy with only one leg." " Good evening, Miss D'Oyley," said Captain Bohun raising his hat to her. He glanced at Miss Hernshaw as if not quite decided whether he was acquainted with her or not ; and then making her a slight bow turned again to Edgar. " We must call upon this Barlow when next we go out fishing," he said. Constance just stole a look at Isabel. Her face was suffused with a burning blush, which faded completely away and left her as pale as marble. " But I don't know him myself," said Edgar; " he told a fellow about his flies, who told Tim : that's the way I heard of them." "Will you introduce us, Forde?" asked Captain Bohun. "Iara sorry I am not acquainted with the individual," said Mr. Forde, throwing him. vol. i. h 146 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. self on the grass just at the feet of Con- stance. " I am the only person competent to introduce you," said Constance. "I am on bowing, almost on speaking terms with Master Barlow, who, by the bye, is not much older than Edgar ; his mother is a very old gossip of mine." " I shall be so much obliged to you," said Captain Bohun , Constance tried to find out whether he was looking at Isabel ; but he was leaning against a tree turning over the flies in his book, and as far as she could judge not even thinking of any thing else. " Bohun, are you likely to be ordered abroad this autumn ?" asked Mr. Forde. " Not that I know of," he replied. " There, that's a brown hackle !" said Edgar, stopping his hand. " That is — genuine," said Captain Bohun. "Do you think Colonel Bohun would retire if your regiment was sent out of the country again?" said Mr. Forde. " No ;" said Captain Bohun, with a CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 147 slight laugh, " nothing would ever make him retire ; he is so fond of his profession.'' " Which is not your case ?" " Not unless there was something do- ing," he replied. " Has Sir Guy any children?" asked Mr. Forde. " Not as yet ;" returned Captain Bohun. " What sort of a woman is Lady Bohun?" M Much like other women," replied Cap- tain Bohun quietly. " I wonder what that means ?" said Con- stance, looking up and laughing. " In the first place, Miss D'Oyley," said Captain Bohun coming nearer to her, and speaking in a lower tone, " it means something as unlike you as possible." "I don't consider that as a compliment at all," replied Constance ; " a woman's best quality is to resemble her sex." The party rose to continue their walk ; Constance made a sign to Mr. Forde to offer his arm to Isabel. She fell back with Ed- gar, and Captain Bohun walked by her side. h 2 148 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 11 You do not ask after your cousin, Miss D'Oyley," he said, after a short pause. " Tell him I did not," replied Constance, " it may do him some good. But have you been fishing this evening, that I meet you in this part of the world ?" " No," he replied ; " I have been dining with my father at Mr. Wyndham's, the owner you know of that old house that stands within the park yonder, and I stole out to take a walk while the old gentlemen were dozing over their claret." Constance was wishing very much to let him know that her friend had no share in his rejection ; but then, if he had out- lived his attachment, how forward, how indelicate would such a communication appear ! She wished that he w T ould say something that could lead to such a topic ; but the next remark he made was on the beauty of the rising moon, which now appeared shining, all silver, behind a screen of young beech trees, that lay below them in the park adjoining. CONSTANCE D OYLEY. 149 " How very dark the beech always looks by moonlight, darker than any other foliage," remarked Constance. Captain Bohun did not appear to hear the observation, though he paused, as if to give her an opportunity of enjoying the scene. Mr. Forde and Isabel were strolling up the lane, and Edgar had been searching the banks for glow worms ; and having found one, was securing it in sycamore leaves for the purpose of taking it home. " Miss D'Oyley," said Captain Bohun turning abruptly to her, " I fear you may think me impertinent in what I am about to say, but it is so impossible to behold you without interest, that I venture at the risk of offending you, to warn you against too affectionate an intimacy with Miss Hern- shaw. I have the highest opinion of my friend Forde, but a beautiful girl who makes a system of conquest is a most dangerous minister to the vanity of our sex. I think you know how truly I have cause to say so much ; but believe my 150 CONSTANCE n'OYLEY. assurance, that 1 am by no means the only sufferer by her hollow fascinations." " Oh, stop," said Constance, " I so much wished to tell you, but feared to do so, I may now, I think — that Isabel had no part in that affair : you do not know how com- pletely she is in her mother's power. You have no idea of Lady Hernshaw's ty- ranny in such matters." He shook his head. Constance traced an incredulous smile on his face. ce It is but lately," he said, " that in very idleness she engaged the affections of a man whom she knew to be affianced to a young lady, her friend, as the phrase goes ; a man whom she never dreamed of accepting when she estranged him from the innocent woman she wronged." " She is so very beautiful," said Con- stance faintly. " Is that a plea," he asked, " that she should enact the serpent ?" " I only meant that it might be involun- tary," said Constance. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 151 ' ' Believe my honour that there is nothing involuntary in Miss Hernshaw's coquetry," replied Captain Bohun. " I speak from sad experience, and through an admiration of your candour that leads me, I am afraid, too far to intrude upon your patience." " I am sure it is very kindly meant," said Constance, turning sick at heart, not from any apprehension of her own danger, but from distress at the imputations cast upon her friend; "but I think you judge her rather sternly — men always do — that is, they have not so much opportunity, I mean," said poor Constance, getting more and more confused, " you attribute to her the defects of her education, and her mother—" " She's a dreadful old woman certainly," said Captain Bohun in a lighter tone, for he saw the embarrassment of Constance ; "only," he added, " I should be more sorry than our slight acquaintance would seem to warrant if you were to trust too implicitly to Miss Hernshaw's friendship." 152 CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. "Even," said Constance with some hesi- tation, " if your worst anticipations should be correct, I should rejoice in it so far, that immeasurably as I know myself her inferior, I would not consent to accept a blind pre- ference from any one, but would demand to be singled out from the whole world, in presence even of such creatures as Isabel Hernshaw." As she spoke, he looked full in her face with that expression of answering in- telligence which must be of such rare occur- rence, when mind meets mind, and the sympathies of a character are all aroused by the disclosure of some feeling congenial to themselves. Constance felt her heart beat as she dropped her eyes on the ground. And she, what reason had she for unfold- ing so much of her sentiments ? She did not know ; but the soft and subdued moonlight does sometimes call out things from young hearts which would otherwise remain unsaid. " At least forgive me for my interference," said he holding out his hand. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 153 She took it; and not being very well able to speak, for it was one thing to talk about resigning Mr. Forde, and ano- ther thing to feel that she might be put to the trial, she made a sign that they should overtake their companions. They were leaning against a little wicket gate waiting their arrival. "I am afraid you are tired," said Mr. Forde, coming to the side of Constance. "No; but what can we do but loiter," said Constance, " beneath such a moon ?" " Bohun, do you remember the moon on the Mediterranean ?" asked Mr. Forde. " Perfectly ; but I hope you don't mean to say that their moonlight is better than ours." "Not better? nor their gorgeous sun- sets ?" " I own that I prefer the more delicate tints in our grey climate," said Captain Bohun. "To think of owning such a thing!" h 3 154 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. exclaimed Mr. Forde ; " I like them better myself, but I never own it." "Is it not growing late ?" said Isabel. They were the first words she had spoken before Captain Bohun. Constance started at her tone. " It is indeed," replied Mr. Forde ; " we must be moving homewards, unless you really wish to enact the Lady in Comus, as you said just now, and then we will leave you behind to awake the courteous echo, To give you answer from her mossy couch. " No," said Isabel, " I can enact nothing to-night, I am too weary." She leaned upon Constance as she spoke. "The shortest way to your house," said Captain Bohun, addressing Constance, " is that steep bridle-path that skirts the wood." " Thank you," said Constance : Isabel did not speak. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 155 " This is my way," he said, pushing open the wicket. " Recollect that you dine with me on Wednesday," said Mr. Forde. " I will not forget. Good evening." He raised his hat to the ladies, and turned into the shrubberies that led to- wards the house. " I dare say," said Edgar, " that the two old fellows will have drunk up all the claret before he gets back." " Why, you greedy boy," said Con- stance, " do you suppose Captain Bohun would care about it ?" "I should," said Edgar; "there's no- thing like a good glass of Lafitte this hot weather." " That comes straight from Eustace," said Constance ; " there's all his conceit, almost his lisp in your manner. What business have you these ten years to come to know claret from hock ?" " Eustace says that at his mess — " " Don't let me hear you," said Constance ; 156 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " Eustace never said a good thing that I recollect. Oh ! we are close at home, run on and open the door : I am so glad for your sake, Isabel." As they entered she felt her hand grasped by her friend. " You are right," whispered Isabel, " I— I can be forgotten, Constance." CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. 157 CHAPTER XL I, under fair pretence of friendly ends And well placed words of glozing courtesy, Wind me into the easy-hearted man, And hug liim into snares. COMUS. It seemed to Constance that as soon as Isabel found she had lost all power over the heart of Captain Bohun, she became much more reconciled to her intended mar- riage. She even spoke sometimes in praise of Lord Be vis, and related from time to time some instance of his generosity which she had heard, or some proof of his talent, of which she seemed to entertain a very- exalted idea. She laughed when she men- tioned the jewels he was in the habit of giving her, and said that they made her 158 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. v mamma worship him; but Constance saw that they had no little influence on her own opinion. She said one day that she was very anxious for the marriage to take place, and asked Constance to guess the reason. Constance said, " she hoped that she was now so sensible of the good qualities of Lord Bevis, that she was enabled to re- turn his regard." "No," said Isabel, laughing, "I could not do that, 1 should have so much to return- The fact is, I see a great deal too much of him ; he is hanging about our house half the day. Now, when we are married, I hope we shall see very little of each other. I shall take care to be at his town-house all the season, giving splendid parties, which he hates ; and I think I shall make out the rest of the year at a watering-place." " Dear Isabel," said Constance, " I wish you would not jest upon such matters. Do you know, though I am sure your heart is CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 159 too good to put them into effect, it makes me quite uncomfortable to hear you plan- ning such things.' ' "Well," said Isabel, laughing, "time will show ; but he is a bold man." " In what respect, Isabel ?" " In marrying a pretty wife, who does not care for him in the least." "Does he know it?" asked Constance. " No ; I acquit him there," returned Isabel; "he goes blindfold into the snare as ever poor bird did." Constance was silent ; she was deeply pained. " Constance," said Isabel, taking both her hands, " whatever faults I commit now, whatever I may commit, blame mamma and not me ; promise that you will." " I don't like to blame anybody, dear," said Constance. " Yes, but do not blame me. You are the only person I love ; and you must not think ill of me ; you must come and see me in town. Berkeley Square 160 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. I think the house is in, but I'll ask rny Lord, next time I see him ; and then I shall be alone, with some old aunt of his to chaperon me, whom I'll find out by that time ; and we shall be so happy !" " I'll not come to see you, if you are not with Lord Bevis," said Constance. " You said, very rightly, that a beautiful woman is not safe away from her husband, espe- cially if she is not much attached to him." "Did I say so? — you mischievous crea- ture, how you turn my words against me !" said Isabel. " Well, then, I'll be very good, and pin Lord Bevis to my apron string. I'm sure he wouldn't object to the situation. By the bye, I wish one wore aprons now. Mamma was looking out some lace the other day, and she found one of old point which had belonged to her grand- mother ; such a beauty !" Constance had often wondered at the rapid transitions in which her friend in- dulged, but never more than now. How- CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 161 ever, she said, " that aprons of point-lace must have been very handsome, and very expensive;" and then there was a short pause, during which Isabel made great progress in her worsted work, and Con- stance hemmed away very soberly at a muslin frill. " I am so glad mamma lets me come here so much," said Isabel ; " I think that, but for such a relief, I should grow restive, and turn off my Lord altogether. Only fancy mamma's face at such a crisis ! — think of her sitting deliberately down to pack up all the sapphires and emeralds. She says my trinket box would look well for a duchess : only imagine her returning them !" " Oh, Isabel !" said Constance, very gently, " you should not laugh at your mamma." " What a good girl you are, Constance," said Isabel, gaily ; " but there is Mr. Forde riding up the road as if he were pursued by the furies. There are two things, you see, which make a man ride fast, pursuit 162 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. and prospect ; but which is the strongest inducement, I cannot tell you exactly ; I wish I could. Well, really mamma is right : Mr. Forde is very handsome ; and he is one of those persons who look best at a distance. " Constance smiled faintly : she thought for a moment of Captain Bohun's warn- ing. The thought vanished, however, when Mr. Forde entered, all animation, with his daily offering of choice flowers, her favourite ones, too, which he had gathered himself, or said he had, to the utter dismay of the gardener. Isabel marked the lingering pressure of his hand, as he spoke to Constance, the affectionate tone of his common morning salutation, the eagerness with which he helped her to arrange her flowers. A thought, not exactly defined, came into her mind, that she should like to interest him — not to annoy or wound her dear Constance, but only to make him a little CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 163 more aware of her presence — just a little more polite to her than he was when Con- stance was by. But in this laudable endeavour she seemed to make but little progress ; she entangled her worsted, indeed, and com- plained of it ; but Mr. Forde was amusing himself with putting the work-box of Con- stance in complete disorder. She rose and went to the piano, and then he exerted himself to follow her, and place a music- book ; but he returned to his seat, and never heard a word of her song. So Isabel gave up the attempt, and generally chose such times for her visits, when she knew he was certain to be absent from the rectory. Meanwhile, time passed ; flew, as Con- stance thought. She had never been so hap- py — never in her life so important. Nobody could call at the rectory without asking to see her ; no one was the object of attention when she was present. She could not have a headache without such pity and good 164 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. wishes, and even inquiries, which she might have died without exciting at any other time. And the gentlemen, how lovely they thought her, now that somebody had thought so first ! What a " nice creature" she was called ; how they admired her eyes and hair, and hands and feet ! If she had been a horse worth a hundred guineas, she could not have raised more discus- sion. Her eldest brother passed the long vaca- tion at Oxford. Edgar in due time returned to school. The summer passed, the au- tumn hurried on ; and Mr. Forde, who had been anything but patient during the inter- vening months, now became urgent that some time should be named for their mar- riage. Isabel still insisted that she herself and her friend should be married on the same day ; and after the usual difficulties and con- sultations, it was agreed that both marriages should take place early in December. Pre- vious to this happy event, however, it was requisite that Mr. Forde should spend some CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 165 weeks in town, to arrange certain matters of business ; and Miss Hernshaw persuaded her mother, that they must also pass some time there, to superintend the more im- portant affair of wedding dresses. 166 CONSTANCE d'OYLEY. CHAPTER XII. For thereof comes all goodness and all worth All gentleness and honour thence come forth : Thence worship comes, content, and true heart's pleasure, And full assured trust, joy without measure, And jollity, fresh cheerfulness, and mirth. CHAUCER. It was a fine frosty morning ; Constance had been out walking with Mr. Forde, and on returning to the house they saw a carriage drawn up before the door. Tim was holding Mr. Forde's horse very valiant- ly by the nose, while his groom was carry- ing on an instructive conversation with the coachman respecting the appearance of his cattle, which his master's arrival broke off somewhat abruptly. Mr. Forde would not go in, but he did CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 167 not seem anxious to go away either. He stood about, asking Constance a hundred unimportant questions ; now replacing her boa more closely about her throat, now declaring that he was keeping her in the cold, and still finding something that he had not said, and could not leave her for a whole week without saying. " I think you like frosty weather?" " Oh, yes ! — It puts me in such spirits." " You are looking so well to-day." " Nonsense !" said Constance, turning away her head. " I have told Gilbert to send you carna- tions every day." " Thank you." " Miss Constance !" was shouted from the other end of the walk. " I am wanted," said Constance, trying to get her hand away. " One moment. Is there anything — " 11 Nothing in the world that you can do for me in town. Good bye !" " Well but— shake hands ; — good bye !" 168 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " There ; — take care of yourself." " And you—" "Of course; I always do," said Con- stance, laughing, " Good bye, again." " Mr. Thornton and Mrs. Parker are in the drawing-room, Miss," said Tim, approaching Constance as she stood watch- ing Mr. Forde ride off, in happy forgetful- ness that she had ever been sent for. " Mrs. Parker — oh, dear !" said Con- stance, turning her steps towards the house. Mrs. Parker was a little woman verging on seventy, plain, but expensive in her dress, and eccentric in her manners. She had a smooth voice almost resembling a lisp, and those perpetual curves about the mouth which denote pretty clearly a smiling hypocrisy. " This is your daughter, Margaret ?" said Mrs. Parker, taking the hand of Con- stance in both her's. " And very like you she is ; sweet creature ! And Edgar too, dear fellow, you look so well, all of you ! Edgar has his father's nose, Mrs. D'Oyley?" CONSTANCE d'OYLEY. 169 " Do you think so, aunt?" returned Mrs. D'Oyley. " Constance is very like her grandfather," said Mr. Thornton surveying her through his spectacles. "Like her grandfather! — oh! no, dear brother," cried Mrs. Parker, afraid that this idea might interest Mr. Thornton in her behalf; " Margaret never was thought like the Thorntons, and Constance is her image." " I say she is," maintained uncle Thorn- ton, •■ so come hither, Constance, I want you to spend a few days with me at mother Parker's. Don't be afraid— with me, not her. I'll take care of you." " Well, I really should like that, uncle," said Constance. " That's right, then ; I shall have you at last. The only one of my relations I ever needed to press. " Ay, but then, uncle, I am the only one — no, I won't be vain." " The only one worth having, I suppose," vol. I. I 170 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. said uncle Thornton, laughing heartily. " Take care you don't turn out like the parson's horse, — hard to catch, and then — you know the proverb." " Constance, dear, come and talk with me a little," said Mrs. Parker, " I have a word to say to you." " Say it out, then, sister Parker," cried Mr. Thornton. " No, no, brother," said Mrs. Parker, assuming a playful air. " You see, my dear," she whispered, " it would be the greatest treat to me to have you in the spring, perhaps j — but just now my house is so full : — there's Frederick just returned from his wedding tour — brought wife and lady's maid, and valet, and grooms — " Oh ! certainly, aunt. I should be very sorry to intrude ; uncle, I will come and see you another time, when aunt Parker's house is less crowded." " Nonsense !" exclaimed Mr. Thornton, (Mrs. Parker's face became a very fine study for an artist) . " Come now ; — there's CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 171 room for twenty people at Fulham. Sister Parker will be delighted — " She looked so, to be sure ! " Oh ! yes," she said, " if dear Con- stance wouldn't mind — " " Mind a house full of company ? — Why, what girl does ? Were you ever young, sister Parker ? Come hither, Sir ; what book do you read in Latin ?" " Horace, Sir," said Edgar, looking very uncomfortable. " Have you begun Greek f" "Yes, Sir." " Uncle I" suggested Mrs. D'Oyley. " Yes, uncle," repeated Edgar. " Are you in Euclid ? "Yes, uncle." Mr. Thornton proceeded to put several other questions usually addressed to school- boys, on the same principle that leads people to talk of pictures to an artist, or books to an author, simply because they would prefer conversing upon any other i 2 172 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. topic. At last he rose to depart, and Mrs. Parker directly bustled about to find her gloves and her bag, and her boa, and to take a most touching leave of Mrs. D'Oyley and Constance, a little in the style of an eternal farewell upon the stage. " To-morrow the carriage shall be sent for you, Constance," said uncle Thornton as he took his leave ; " I shall be looking out for you about dinner time, and sister Parker will not have been so happy a long while, she'll tell you." " Dear brother, what a droll man you are !" said Mrs. Parker, as they left the room. " Yes, that will just do, mamma," said Constance, " Mr. Forde will be absent a week, and this day week I shall be at home again ; — and I don't talk about leav- ing you for a few days, because our's will not deserve to be called a parting, so near as we shall be. You will have me running down every day to do all papa's writing, and all your needlework." CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 173 " Ah! my child, you don't know yet;" said Mrs. D'Oyley, kissing her. " I'm sure, unless Mr. Forde tells fibs, I am to do just as I please," said Con- stance, gaily; "but look, it is beginning to snow, we shall have an early winter, and papa, I am afraid, will come home very cold." The next morning, the snow continued, but the carriage came at the proper time ; she stepped into it and was whirled off. It was dusk when she arrived at Mrs. Parker's villa. A foreign servant came to the carriage door to help her to alight. " Beaucoup de neige, Mademoiselle — beau- coup, beaucoup ," he said, by way of cau r tion, as she mounted the slippery steps ; an English servant, by the way, would have allowed her to fall if she had not come in her own carriage, and then have enjoyed a hearty laugh over it with his fellows. It was time to dress for dinner. The foreign servant gave her into the care of an English one, who delivered her over to 174 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. a lady's maid, under whose auspices she made her toilet. Constance thought that people who lived in a style inferior to that which she saw around her, were more courteous and com- fortable in their modes of reception ; but this was a vulgar idea, and I beg my readers not to repeat it. As soon as she was dressed, she was shewn into the drawing-room where Mr. Thornton was seated in an easy chair by the fire, and Frederick Parker leaning on the chimney-piece opposite, looking extremely cross and disagreeable. Mr. Thornton rose and welcomed her with extreme cor- diality, and introduced her to young Parker, who honoured her with a stiff bend of the head, and a scowl from under his black brows something like that of a disap- pointed bandit. Mr. Thornton drew her chair close to his ; when young Parker renewed the conversation which her en- trance had interrupted, by saying in a loud, rough voice, " I tell you, Sir, if you build 175 a conservatory on that side of the house, you will ruin Ley ton altogether." " I told you, Sir," returned uncle Thorn- ton, (Constance, my dear, take a screen) " that Hoskins had seen my plans and said I could not possibly do better." They were here interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Parker, who, with one hand tucked behind her, and her head stooping forwards, her favourite attitude, came up to Constance, and kissing her, uttered some sleek words of welcome. " I don't call Hoskins anything of an architect," said Mr. Frederick in the same rough tone, " I only know at Rome — " "You are a noodle, Sir," replied Mr. Thornton sharply; "Rome is one thing, and Herefordshire another thing, I pre- sume." " I know, at Rome," pursued young Parker endeavouring to talk through his uncle, " the great architect Alderoni — " " Should never come near my premises, Sir, take my word for that," cried Mr. 176 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. Thornton. " I hate French fops, Sir. Where's Mrs. Frederick ? And oh ! ring the bell and see why they don't send up dinner, unless," said he, turning short round, " they are all gone to meeting, sister Parker." Now Mrs. Parker was in the opinion of many people, herself included, a very devout attendant at religious meetings, and this was a constant subject of contention between her and her brother, who abhorred dissent, and held that salvation out of the pale of the Church of England was a vague chimera of which people would be convinced to their cost by and by. " No, brother," said Mrs. Parker with her smooth voice, to all appearance un- ruffled ; " Thursday is not meeting night." " Why, ring then," said Mr. Thornton, shaking his hand impatiently at young Parker, " and ask them whether the cobbler teaches them that it's a sin to dine o' Thurs- days. On Sundays, I know, he advocates starvation." CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. 177 He never would designate the dissenting minister by any other name than the cobbler ; having heard, to his exquisite delight, that he had formerly been a shoe- maker ; and yet this disrespectful mention of her pet preacher, Mrs. Parker bore for the sake of the thousands she hoped to reap at her brother's death ; although she had wealth even to overflowing. " Frederick, take your mother," said Mr. Thornton, securing the hand of Constance, " I attend to my own guests. Are you cold, child ? — The dining-room strikes like a well." Mrs. Frederick had not yet made her ap- pearance ; she could not bear to be waited for, neither could she bear to be punctual ; however, before the soup was removed, she walked in, all satin, lace, and pearls ; looking, had her train been a little longer, as if she had just come from a drawing-room. The foreign servant pulled her chair back for her, and replied to her " prenez," as she i3 178 CONSTANCE D'OYLEV. threw her cashmere on his arm, with a most obsequious bow. Now Frederick Parker spoke very bad French, and it was the delight and glory of his valet to speak a very little very bad English ; and they conversed at intervals during dinner something in this manner : " Nicole quel temps fait-il a present ?" " Oh ! very bad time, Sare ; the snow is foot dip." " Comment done ? Encore plus de niege ?" " Frightful time ! frightful," said the valet, with something between a shrug and a shiver. Constance smiled at his translation of temps affreux, and turned her eyes upon Mrs. Frederick, who having honoured her with such a steady stare that proved she had not weak eyes, had now withdrawn her attention to her dinner. She was a little, fair woman, extremely dressed, and rather pretty. She was afflicted with very large hands, which she covered with rings ; and CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 179 i having been long abroad, she took upon herself to do exactly as she liked, think- ing that people would fancy everything she did was foreign, and admire it ac- cordingly. " Caroline, try this vol-au-vent," said Mr. Frederick to his wife ; " I think you'll like it." " I— yes," she replied. The dish was taken to her and she helped herself. " Take it back," said she to the foreign servant ; " I can't endure rice." Her plate was removed. Now Constance had never seen a vol-au- vent without rice, and thought Mrs. Fre- derick might have decided at once ; but then Constance had never been to Rome. ' 'Take something else, " said Mr. Frederick . " No, I'll wait," she replied. " Look here, Constance," said Mr. Thorn- ton when the second course was put upon table, " when I was a boy, pheasants were plucked before they came to table ; now they send them up with their tails dabbling 180 CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. in the gravy. Mrs. Frederick, some phea- sant ?" " If you please.'' " Time you took something," muttered Mr. Thornton. When she went into the drawing-room, Constance felt very lonely. Mrs. Parker began to knit and Mrs. Frederick sank into a large chair with a French novel in her hand, and her Italian greyhound nestled by her side. Mrs. Parker and Mrs. Frederick were not on very loving terms and no conversation en- sued. Coffee was served up : Mrs. Frederick took a cup and sent it away untasted, and asked for wafers, and was told there were none, and ordered a cup of black tea un- mixed, and then went to sleep till the gentlemen came in, having taken out her pearl comb and given it to the greyhound to play with. " Are you tired, Mrs. Frederick'?" said uncle Thornton as he passed her chair. ''Dreadfully so," she said. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 181 " I hope you mean to give us a little music," said Mr. Frederick. " Presently," said his wife. " Constance, dear, do you play ?" asked Mrs. Parker. " I can accompany myself; nothing more," she said. " Come then, Constance," said Mr. Thornton, " give me an English song ; it will be quite a treat to me." " But uncle, I can't sing any popular music," said Constance. "So much the better," he said; " give me something of Handel's." Constance sat down and sang a favourite song of her father's — " Come, ever smiling Liberty." She gave great effect to Han- del's music which she thoroughly under- stood ; and as she had a very fine voice, it was really a pleasure for some persons to hear her. Mr. Thornton was very much delighted, and he praised her so much that Mrs. Parker looked very wretched. Then Mrs. 182 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. Frederick resolved not to be outdone, sat down to play something extravagantly difficult, which she very nearly managed to do, omitting, of course, all the delicacies of the composition, which must bethecase when people attempt to execute what is above their power. As there seemed no end to her per- formance, Mr. Thornton drew Constance aside and offered to shew her the conserva- tory, as she seemed so fond of flowers. They slipped out together, and when they were fairly among the orange trees, Mr. Thornton, first relieving his mind by a sigh, asked her what she thought of Mrs. Fre- derick Parker. " Oh, uncle!" said Constance, totally at a loss how to express her opinion. Upon which her uncle patted her on the shoulder, and laughed heartily for some time. " Constance, is this true," he said at last, " this report that you are going to be married to young Forde ?" " What, you have heard it then?" she said quietly. CONSTANCE D OYLEY. 183 " That means yes, I suppose, that non- denial, " said Mr. Thornton, quickly. " Yes, uncle," replied Constance. " My marriage takes place so very shortly, that it would not be very sensible to deny it." " When is it sensible to deny such things ?" returned Mr. Thornton. " I hate all the mysterious nonsense that goes on with respect to marriages. For Heaven's sake, if you are not ashamed of each other, say so ; and don't try to hide it like two great ostriches tucking their heads behind a tree, and thinking nobody sees them, — which is pretty much the case when your precious secret is bandied from mouth to mouth all over the county !" " Well, uncle, you see I don't try to conceal it," said Constance, smiling. "Now, do you think I might have a little piece of this verbena?" Mr. Thornton broke off a branch for her, and went on. " In your case, the next best thing to 184 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. owning your match, would be to slide out of it altogether." " Sir ?V exclaimed Constance in amaze- ment. " His house is not safe," returned Mr. Thornton. Had this remark come from Mrs. Parker, who had rather an irreverent manner of quoting scripture phrases, Constance would have thought it referred to poor Mr. Forde's morals; — and as it was, she was obliged to reflect a little, before she recollected that he was connected with a famous mer- cantile house in the city. "Oh, is that all!" she said, with a cheerful air. "All!" cried Mr. Thornton, "I took you for a girl of sense ; — there's no living without money." " Not what you would call living, uncle !" said Constance, " but I know that Mr. Forde does not depend exclusively on the house you mention ; — and I could be con- tent, were such the case, on a very little. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 185 There is no want of sense in consulting one's happiness, and if money could secure mine, I should be foolish indeed to risk the loss of it. But if Mr. Forde does not deceive me, he is no more dependant on ex- ternals than myself; and if he does, the loss of fortune would add but little to my regret.'' " Why the girl can argue !" said Mr. Thornton, rubbing his spectacles, and put- ting them on that he might better survey such a phenomenon; — perhaps they ena- bled him to discern that there were tears in her eyes, for he added in an under tone, " She can feel too," and taking her hand, he said : " Well, well, my dear, it will all turn out right, I dare say. I'll keep my eye on you; he is a very honest young fellow by all accounts, and I hope will make you happy — at least he had better," this remark was given in another under tone of a rather threatening description. " So we'll go back to the drawing-room, or mother Parker will think I've been signing a new will." 186 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. This idea delighted him so much that he laughed until he reached the drawing- room door. The evening wore away but slowly ; Constance was heartily glad when they retired. She was up betimes next morn- ing, and going down into the breakfast room, found Mrs. Parker knitting by the side of the fire, and watching the kettle which was set on a stand fastened to the bars of the grate. Mrs. Parker asked Constance if she used an urn or a kettle at home, and whether she ate toast or bread, and if they baked, and churned, and brewed ; and if they had their washing done at home, or put out ; and then, by a transition which Constance was perfectly unable to follow, she began to question her respecting her father's views. "Do you mean," said she, quite se- riously, "that papa thinks it cheaper to have things done at home, rather than to put them out ?" CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 187 " No, my dear," said Mrs. Parker, look- ing puzzled. " I — never mind ; let us go to breakfast." They breakfasted accordingly. When they had nearly finished their meal, Mrs. Frederick descended, superbly dressed, and took her seat with a little bow, which might be foreign, but was hardly civil. She was pulling on a pair of gloves, which she found to be slightly spotted ; and she began telling her Italian greyhound what a bad climate it was, and how her gloves had been spoiled. She asked the dog, if it didn't agree with her in disliking England, and if it had made a good breakfast. Of course, the dog would not have understood her if she had spoken English, so she had the consideration to address it in Italian. Mrs. Parker did not understand the lan- guage, it is true, but Constance did, which was more than Mrs. Frederick gave her credit for. She then rang the bell very loudly, and gave the obnoxious gloves to her maid, desiring her to bring down an- 188 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. other pair, after which she gave her dog some cream ; and then, without speaking a word, walked leisurely into the draw- ing-room, and began to practise music violently. In the course of the morning, Mrs. Parker asked Constance to walk out with her, to which she readily agreed. The snow had ceased to fall, and it was a bright hard frost. Mrs. Frederick would not go out till after luncheon, and they put off their walk accordingly till such time as she thought proper to join them. She appeared wrapped in costly furs, gave a very intelli- gible look of disdain at Constance's bonnet, and then set off walking as fast as she could. She kept about fifty yards in advance of her companions ; and if she greatly ex- ceeded that distance, she would turn round and wait till thev came near, and then set off again. After the walk there was a long interval of idleness, and then came the dressing- bell and dinner. When they assembled CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 189 round the table, Mr. Frederick shouted these words to Constance : " Have you been walking to-day, Miss D'Oyley ?" which are worthy of being recorded as the only ones he spoke to her during her visit. Constance went up stairs after dinner to write home ; and when she returned to the drawing-room, she found it tenanted by uncle Thornton alone. " Why, uncle, are you deserted ?" said she, coming up to him. " Mr. and Mrs. Frederick gone out to tea, ,, he said, putting the poker into the fire. "And Mrs. Parker?" " Cobbler's night/' said uncle Thornton, laconically, turning to look at her over his shoulder as he made a glorious blaze. Constance smiled and sat down. Mr. and Mrs. Frederick came home about eleven o'clock. The lady's first inquiry was about Rosa, the greyhound : " where on earth was it ?" 190 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. Uncle Thornton did not know. " In the kitchen, perhaps." " Oh, Heaven ! I hope not ; the cook would poison her !" She rang the bell. " Nicole, go and find my poor pet, this instant." " She is here, Madame ; she follows at my heel." " Gracious ! Frederick, how ill she looks. Sei ammalata, tesoro mio" said Mrs. Fre- derick, clasping her in her arms. " Sais-tu, Nicole, si elle a mange quelque chose dans la cuisine ?" 11 I will go seek," said the valet, and he disappeared. Mr. Thornton gasped for breath. He could not endure the sound of foreign lan- guages. " Cook gave her one morceau of bread," said Nicole, returning. " Bread ! Oh, Frederick ! " exclaimed Mrs. Frederick. " Upon his honour it was very extra- 191 ordinary the cook could not let the animal alone." Nicole was to tell the cook, "that upon his honour he would not suffer it." " Bread — only little bit, sweet bread 1" said the valet, humbly. " Sweet-bread ! Oh you may go, Nicole," said Mrs. Frederick, rising from her knees ; " that won't hurt the darling, I hope." " I wonder, ma'am, whether you would make half the fuss about a child if you had one !" said Mr. Thornton, now tho- roughly wearied. " When I have one, I'll tell you ; very likely not," she returned. " The pretty delicate-looking creature !" Constance opened her eyes, and laid all the blame upon poor Rome. 192 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. CHAPTER XIII. Ast. 'Tis not in gold to dazzle woman's eye, 'Tis not in pomp to shake her hearted faith From its firm limit. A true woman, Leon, Is mistress o'er the world ; for o'er herself She holds dominion, in the name of love. ANON. The morning before that fixed for her return home, Constance found, on coming down stairs, great symptoms of cofnusion : sofas were being wheeled about ; chairs removed; Mrs. Parker, with a troubled face, superintending the making of breakfast. Her curiosity respecting these preparations was soon gratified. Mr, Thornton had an attack of the gout. He was always un- usually self-willed at such times, and he CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 193 would come down to breakfast, contrary to his usual habit. His servant helped him into the room, and on the sofa ; and then Mrs. Parker began to be very active in his service, teazing him with an infinite variety of questions, to which he returned very short and unsatisfactory answers. " I fear you passed a sad night, brother/' she began. " Fear so, too," he returned. " Take an egg, dear brother." " Mistress Parker," said he, looking her full in the face, " I am going to starve my- self. This is the last fit I ever mean to be troubled with." " Dear brother, don't be presumptuous," said Mrs. Parker, affecting to tremble. " Miss Constance," said uncle Thornton, turning to her, " is there a bible in the room ?" "Yes, I dare say there is, uncle." " No, brother," interposed Mrs. Parker, " not in this room." " Are you not ashamed of yourself, sister VOL. i. k 194 Parker," said Mr. Thornton, with every ap- pearance of gravity, " to let a single room in your house be without a bible? I am afraid you are not half so godly a woman as you would like to be thought. I have a mind to tell the cobbler of you." "Oh, brother, what a man you are !" returned Mrs. Parker. "Pray, Miss Constance," resumed the tiresome old gentleman, " can you help me to a text that may suggest a cure for the gout, since Mistress Parker objects to the starving system." " There are a great many texts, uncle," said Constance, seriously, " which recom- mend patience ; and I believe that is more important to the physical condition of people in suffering, than they are often willing to allow." "Excellent!" said Mr. Thornton. "I should not wonder now if you sometimes helped your papa to write his sermons." " Very often, Sir," replied Constance, quietly. 195 A reply so different to what he expected, put the old gentleman into something like good humour. " Do you hear that, sister Parker ?" he cried ; " if your cobbler could read running hand, you might volunteer your assistance in the same manner. By the bye, why don't you ask the man to-dinner. To-day is Sunday ; between services, now, nothing could be more a propos. Pray let me have the pleasure of seeing him at your hospita- ble board." Mrs. Parker looked all delight. " Dear brother, you are goodness itself," she cried ; " I will certainly do so ; but I thought that you — " " Old, worn-out prejudices," said the old gentleman, with his peculiar smile, which was always accompanied by a quaint elon- gation of the upper lip. " I hope to meet him to-day, remember. I can't go to church, and may pick up something that — And now, as you have finished your break- fast, leave Constance and me to chat k 2 196 CONSTANCE d'oYLEY. together till church-time ; there's a good soul." Now Constance had not the slightest partiality in the world for dissenting minis- ters ; but she did not like the idea that any one in the shape of a clergyman should be invited to feed the satiric humour of Mr. Thornton : so she slipped out after Mrs. Parker, and begging her pardon for in- terfering, told her frankly what she thought her uncle's intentions were. Mrs. Parker kissed and thanked her, and went up stairs rejoicing ; for she resolved that her brother should learn that Constance had marred his plot ; and she thought it would nicely counteract the partiality which she feared he was beginning to entertain towards her. When Constance returned, Mr. Thorn- ton seemed to have fallen into a fit of mus- ing, from which he roused himself to ask her what she was thinking of. " I was thinking, uncle, how you order all the people about in this house," said she, CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 197 looking up. " People may well call truth a jewel ; for I am sure that it is by no means as plentiful as blackberries.' ' Mr. Thornton seemed much amused by her reply ; and after laughing quietly a little while, he asked her "If they seemed to object to his proceedings. " " Oh, no I" Constance said ; " not at all." Then he asked her, if she had any idea why they submitted so quietly to his ways ; at which she laughed, but made no reply. " Well, child," said her uncle, suddenly, " if you will come and live with me, I will leave you at my death everything of which I may die possessed." Constance opened her eyes very wide, but the magnitude of the offer took away her breath, and prevented her making an immediate reply. "I know that your engagement may seem an impediment," said her uncle ; " but when you come to reflect coolly, you will see the folly of marrying a man who is on the brink of ruin." 198 " I am sure, uncle," cried Constance, in- dignantly, " that he does not know it. I am sure he is quite open with me." " Not know it ! Why ? " said Mr. Thornton, "because he is too indolent to inspect his affairs. However, it may not he : I hope not 3 but the suspicion of such a thing is quite enough to justify your friend interfering and delaying your mar- riage, although I have another plan in my head for you, supposing you accept my offer." Constance could hardly avoid laughing, although she was very much annoyed. " I am sure," she replied, " that no real friend would ever advise me to behave so unworthily. Mr. Forde, uncle, selected me when very many richer and prettier women did not scruple to give him abun- dant encouragement — and he loved me for myself. I could not bring him wealth ; but I gave him back affection, as disinterested as that he offered me. 1 do not believe his affairs are in the state you describe; but CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 199 were they in the most disastrous condition your fancy can imagine, it should remain with him alone to claim or to reject my hand." " Well, but just listen to my scheme," said Mr. Thornton, " you must know that my estate joins the property of one Sir Guy Bohun, an old fool, who has a nephew" — " Captain Bohun, I suppose ?" said Con- stance. " The same. Well, this old fool, who must needs marry, with one foot in the grave, not being blest with any family, his title and property must of necessity come to the nephew, who in due time will become Sir Something Bohun; what is the man's name, Constance ?" " I am sure I don't know, uncle," said Constance, laughing. " Well, but don't you see this marriage would make you My Lady, besides uniting the two estates, which I have often wished to do ; but for the soul of me could never 200 CONSTANCE D'oYLEY. find an expedient, until I lighted upon this," " Dear uncle, how very fast your fancy travels," said Constance, laughing ; " sup- pose Captain Bohun and I should take an immense aversion to one another." " I don't see that," said her uncle, " he is a very well-looking young man. I don't like your Mr. Forde, I can tell you ; he has an easy, gay manner which takes very much with the women ; but there's nothing in him, depend upon it. I tell you, Con- stance, if you don't jilt him, he will you, before the wedding, now. There's no stea- diness in him ; and I would -not wait for him, if I were in your place." Constance laughed more heartily than before. " On my word, uncle," she said, " if I did not ascribe all this bitterness to your gout, I should be extremely angry with you ; but as it is, I make allowances." " You are a saucy girl," said her uncle ; " but turn over my proposal in your mind, CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 201 and give me an answer before you go to- morrow." " I had rather give it you now, if you please, uncle." '•' I won't have it now. There, go along to church ; don't you hear the bells ?" " Pray, uncle, does any body in this house go to church, or am I to attend meeting, this morning ?" " Church !" shouted Mr. Thornton ; " that French doll goes to church ; — she will take you. Never let me hear that you set foot in a conventicle." Constance accordingly dressed and went into the drawing-room, where Mr. Frederick was sitting by the fire smoking a curious looking Turkish pipe, Mrs. Parker remon- strating with him on so doing, and his wife filling the bowl with Turkish tobacco which looked exactly like rose-leaves, and fortunately for the drawing-room and its inhabitants, possessed very little of the odious smell that renders our tobacco such an extensive nuisance. It was curious in k 3 202 CONSTANCE d'OYLEY. how very few words Mrs. Frederick made Constance understand that she would per- mit her to accompany her to church ; how- ever the matter was made intelligible, and she went. When they returned, it was just time to go to dinner. Mr. Thornton was better, and they all assembled in the dining-room. Just before grace, the old man glanced hastily round the table, and said quaintly to his sister : " Mistress Parker, where is the reverend gentleman ?" " Ah ! brother," said she smiling and shaking her head, " I took the advice of this dear girl here ; — " " Advice — what advice?" exclaimed Mr. Thornton. It was evident there was a storm coming, so Mrs. Frederick sat down with her grey- hound on her lap, and told it in Italian that she hoped it would not be kept very long, (little treasure), without its dinner. "Ah! we know, don't we Constance?" said Mrs. Parker, looking very sly. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 203 Constance had nothing to fear from Mr. Thornton, as she was perfectly determined not to accept the terms on which alone she could obtain his wealth, and although Mrs. Parker had placed her in an embarrass- ing situation, she possessed a good deal of natural composure, and she was less an- noyed by it than most girls would have been. " I will tell you what advice, uncle, if Mrs. Parker objects to do so," said she, seeing Mr. Thornton grow more and more angry. " I thought, dear, you might not quite like it;" said Mrs. Parker. Constance thought that in that case, Mrs. Parker might as well have not begun the subject ; but without further preface, she distinctly repeated what she had said to her aunt, and on what grounds. She had passed her life with very good-tempered people, and she was not at all prepared for all the angry and bitter things with which Mr. Thornton retorted; for all the reflections upon meddling, and sanctity, 204 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. and impertinence, with which her well- meaning step was visited. It did not im- prove matters, when she saw Mr. and Mrs. Frederick exchange glances of unfeigned triumph and delight. " Come, Sir," said Mr. Frederick, at last, " that will do — we want to go to dinner." This of course produced a repetition of the heads of discourse, after which they did go to dinner, with whatever appetites they might severally possess. Now Mr. Thornton had been so accus- tomed to say whatever he pleased, without restraint, to all his relations, quite confi- dent that they would be very anxious to be forgiven afterwards on the strength of his money, that he was very much sur- prised to find Constance apparently uncon- scious of his presence at table ; and his anger being spent with his words, he felt embarrassed at not being on good terms with his favourite. Mrs. Parker did not venture to speak to her, until the interdict of his displeasure was removed by his CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 205 addressing her. Mr. and Mrs. Frederick never noticed her at all, and she sat very quietly, but without any awkwardness, which might perhaps be accounted for by the circumstance that she was going home the next day. And she was one of those persons who would not show, nor indeed feel any resentment on such an occasion, but would calmly resolve not to put herself in the way of such annoyances another time. " You don't eat any fish, Constance," said Mr. Thornton turning suddenly to her. " Not any, thank you." " Let me send you some, my dear," said Mrs. Parker, directly, ; * I declare I quite forgot—" " None, thank you," repeated Constance, unable to restrain a smile. Mr. Thornton gave one of his quick, acute glances round the table, and then asked Constance to take wine with him. She went through the ceremony. 206 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. A few minutes afterwards he sent his plate round to her, desiring to be helped to the dish that stood before her. She complied. As soon as it was brought to him, he exclaimed : " Why, it is curry ! Why did you send it to me, child ?" " Because you asked for it, Sir," replied Constance. " I did not know what it was," said he. " Take it away, — villanous compound !" Constance did not seem to hear this last remark, and Mrs. Parker began to talk to her. " Did I not hear, love, that you had learned Hebrew ?" she asked. " Yes," replied Constance, " it was the first language papa taught me." " Hebrew?" cried Mr. Thornton. Constance seemed to consider this as an interjection, for she did not confirm his doubts. " Did you not find it very difficult?" asked Mrs. Parker. CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. 207 " Oh yes, at first," replied Constance ; " it is as hard to read the letters and points together as the treble and bass in music." " Think of that, Mrs. Frederick," said Mrs. Parker, " Constance can read He- brew." "lam really not at all envious of her ac- quirements," replied Mrs. Frederick, shut- ting her eyes, " particularly now that I am so engrossed with that dear German." " Don't you read Hebrew from right to left ?" asked Mrs. Parker. " Yes, ma'am." " And pray," said Mr. Thornton testily, for he was determined not to be upon neutral terms with Constance, and not to quarrel until she made it up with him, " pray, what good has it done you ?" " Reading from right to left, Sir ?" " No," said he, suppressing a smile, " learning Hebrew." " It has given me pleasure, and strength- ened my power of attention," replied Con- stance quietly. 208 CONSTANCE D'OYLEY. " Oh ! I forgot, you are a logician." No answer from Constance. " Perhaps you don't agree with me in thinking that one language is enough for a woman to make mischief with."