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 „••»*•♦»*
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/rosabelnovel01thom
 
 ROSABEL 
 
 A NOVEL, 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 BY THE AUTHORESS OF CONSTANCE. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, AND 
 LONGMAN, PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
 MDCCCXXXV.
 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " How long shall I be patient .' Oh, how long 
 Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong ?" 
 
 Shakespear. 
 
 It is now many years since parents were harsh 
 and unjust, or children rebellious ; in these 
 happy times, it is the children who sway, and 
 the parents who sometimes dare to rebel : 
 
 ^elopements from parental tyranny, and the mi- 
 series of being crossed in love or dress, are 
 now uncommon. In times past, such things 
 occasionally happened. 
 
 A winter's sun had set upon the leafless 
 groves of Fairford, a village in one of our 
 northern counties, and a starless and gloomy 
 night had succeeded. A light or two, gleaming 
 from some cottages of the district, might alone 
 reassure the traveller of his approach to social 
 
 .warmth and shelter. But, from the principal 
 house of the village, there streamed a blaze of 
 unusual illumination, which threw upon the 
 VOL. I. B
 
 belt of evergreens, by which it was secluded 
 from public view, a reflection sufficient to shew 
 that the broad-leaved laurels, and close junipers 
 were partly clothed with wreaths of snow, whilst 
 the lawn and bank near the house were covered 
 with a light but universal mantle of white. 
 
 In the principal apartments within, however, 
 dancing and music were going on, and the 
 sounds of heartfelt merriment were heard: 
 through all the house warmth and cheerful- 
 ness prevailed. Whilst, in the servants' hall, 
 they drank to Master Gilbert's return home 
 from India, and hoped that his coming back 
 would be as merry as his parting, Martha, 
 the old nurse, above stairs, was soberly em- 
 ployed in tranquillizing such young members 
 of the family as were too juvenile to sit up 
 late, or were weary, or who ought to be 
 weary, with the night's gaieties. She had 
 just finished her task ; — the last unruly 
 member of her establishment was dropping 
 asleep, much against his will, whilst his drowsy 
 ear could continue to catch a sound of the 
 music from below. — Two of Martha's elder 
 subjects pressed, with flushed cheeks, their 
 pillows ; her own spectacles were properly
 
 placed, the fire blazing, the candle snuffed, and 
 Martha, with a large basket of dilapidated gar- 
 ments before her, resigning herself to solitude 
 in the midst of gaiety, when a low, but hasty 
 tap was heard at the nursery door. Martha, 
 unwilling to be disturbed, heard it once in 
 sullen silence ; but, when the signal was re- 
 peated, she rose, and went to the door, not 
 omitting, in her way, to give a shake to the 
 youngest plague of her dominions ; who, now 
 awakened, peered a large pair of bright black 
 eyes above the coverlid. With some additional 
 irritation at this circumstance, Martha pulled 
 open the door, saying, as she flung it back — 
 " Why can't you come in, Sally; the door's 
 not locked? — But who's this we have here?" — 
 
 upon seeing a person enter with the common- 
 place introduction : — 
 
 " It's a young woman, as says she wants 
 
 you, Martha." 
 
 " A young woman, indeed — go down stairs, 
 
 Sally, and remember you are to knock next 
 
 time." 
 
 "Miss Rosabel, dear," pursued Martha, as 
 
 she closed the door after her fellow servant ; 
 
 " are you mad ?" 
 
 B2
 
 " So you know me, do you, Martha ?*' an- 
 swered the young visitant, in a tone between 
 shame and mirth. 
 
 ' ; What's come to you, Miss Rosabel — what's 
 happened to you, to run off from home such a 
 night as this, in such a dress, and walking 
 too ?" continued Martha, looking down re- 
 proachfully at the snow-tracks on Tier nursery 
 h earth. 
 
 " That is not true, Martha ; for I came in a 
 covered cart." 
 
 " Ah, you're a lost one, poor dear— and 
 always was a wild one. Have they turned you 
 out of doors then, at last, as they did me ? It 
 was a dark day, Miss Rosabel, that your mother 
 died ; she little thought what her daughter was 
 to come to." 
 
 " Her daughter will never come to any thing 
 that she is ashamed of — will never disgrace her- 
 self, Martha," returned the young lady, draw- 
 ing herself up. 
 
 As she spoke, she took off a large coarse 
 bonnet which she had worn, and a profusion 
 of rich auburn curls, which hung in tresses 
 down her back, as girls of condition long ago 
 wore their hair, fell about her shoulders.
 
 " And how, Martha, do you think this dress 
 becomes me ? — this bonnet I stole from Phoebe, 
 the scullery maid ; but I left her a much better 
 one in its place : and my gown, and cloak, and 
 hood belong to Bridget, the dairy woman, who 
 is the only person in my confidence. Come, 
 Martha, don't you be so cross," she added, 
 coaxingly. 
 
 " Then it's no bad thoughts as you have in 
 your head, but only a trick of yours, Miss 
 Rosabel, to run off from home for a joke, may 
 be." 
 
 " I could not stay, Martha— would not stay 
 — to be so lectured in the presence of the very 
 servants — treated like a child — for ever in fault 
 — for ever scolded." 
 
 " Ah ! Miss Rosabel, what will your poor 
 father say ?" 
 
 " Sir John, Martha, will not miss me. Have 
 I ever received one single proof of affection from 
 him? Do I ever see him ? — Does he not keep 
 his children at an immeasurable distance from 
 him — and leaves us to the self-righteous Mrs. 
 Waldegrave, or to Aunt Alice ? I declare I 
 don't know which of the two I dislike the most." 
 
 " You should not speak so, Miss Rosabel ;
 
 6 
 
 and yet, it is what I have heard your mother, 
 poor dear my lady, say many a time." 
 
 " I do believe they will all be mightily re- 
 joiced when they hear I am gone to Aunt 
 Evelyn's; and so they will get rid of me alto- 
 gether. You can give me half of your bed, 
 dear Martha, to-night," added Miss Fortescue, 
 looking round, " and to-morrow, my knight of 
 the cart is to fetch me away c'gain ;— it is only 
 Peter, Martha, Bridget's nephew, who drives 
 the Bridgetown errand cart, and I go in most 
 innocent company, — with boxes, hampers, and 
 cheeses." 
 
 " Ah! Miss Rosabel ; and don't you think 
 that poor Sir John will fret when he hears you 
 are missing, and don't know where you are gone 
 to ? — and poor Miss Fortescue, Miss Charlotte, 
 I mean, and Master Hubert, poor fellow, and 
 even Mr. Philip — don't you think they'll fret 
 about you, and have the pools dragged, and I 
 don't know what ?" 
 
 " The pools, dear Martha, are frozen ; so it 
 is impossible for any human being to drown 
 himself in them ; the ice is as thick as that 
 about Aunt Waldegrave's heart. — Sir John is 
 expected home in a day or two. I could not."
 
 she added, dashing a tear from her eye, " have 
 left the house thus whilst he was in it. Char- 
 lotte, poor Charlotte, is wholly under the do- 
 minion of my aunts ; she is less sisterly to me 
 than I could bear and expect ; from her I have 
 had no sympathy. Oh ! I like the friend who 
 looks coldly on those who look coldly on me ; — 
 Charlotte is too prudent, too cautious for me. 
 Hubert, poor dear Hubert, would have felt for 
 me; but he, you know, is at Harrow; and 
 Philip, who never did feel for any one, is at 
 Oxford." 
 
 She sat down, and leaned musingly over the 
 fire. Just then, a passage door opening, the 
 sounds of music and of laughter broke upon 
 the ear of the young fugitive — she sighed. 
 
 " How that reminds me of home, Martha — 
 of home in Mama's time — often, you know, 
 she would have the church musicians in for us, 
 when we could get nothing better; but now, 
 at home, 'tis all state and form, and economy, 
 and improvement. — I hate economy, and I 
 never will give in to improvement — not that 
 sort of improvement — sermons by the hour, 
 and backboards a yard long, and every pains 
 taken to make us as stiff as Aunt Waldegrave,
 
 8 
 
 and as thin as Aunt Alice. My figure will 
 never come up to their model of perfection," 
 she added, throwing back her hood and cloak, 
 and displaying a fine, elastic form, just emerg- 
 ing from the slightness of girlhood into womanly 
 maturity. 
 
 " Yon were sent away, Martha, and good 
 easy Mrs. Johnson ; and in place of you the 
 dear little twins have a dragon set over 
 them, a creature whose very smile reminds one 
 of grammar, and all that horrid sort of thing. 
 How would poor mama fret, could she know 
 how her darlings are fretted ! — That child is 
 like Howard," she continued, looking round at 
 one of the little sleepers ; " but he has not 
 Howard's noble features — he has not Howard's 
 blood in his veins : there's a great deal in that ; 
 is there not, Martha ?" 
 
 " My dear Miss Rosabel," said Martha, "that 
 was said more like your aunt Mrs. Waldegrave, 
 than your aunt Mrs. Evelyn." 
 
 " It is true, Martha, that I, who am now an 
 outcast, have nothing (no — obliged to errand 
 boys, and scullery maids," and to old nurses, 
 thought she) " have nothing to do with pride : 
 — but where are you going, Martha ?"
 
 9 
 
 " Dear Miss Rosabel, only to fetch you some 
 supper, dear ; I will set it in the school room ; 
 not a soul will see you ; and then you shall go 
 to bed, dear, and we will see about further 
 matters in the morning." Thus saying, the 
 anxious and affectionate domestic hurried away, 
 and Rosabel was left, for a short time, to her 
 own reflections. 
 
 On descending to the lower regions, Martha 
 found that some suspicions of the rank and 
 intentions of her guest had reached that sphere 
 of curiosity. Peter, the carrier-boy, had not 
 been altogether trust-worthy, and had whis- 
 pered, to his friend, the footman, that he had 
 conveyed a runaway young lady to see her 
 former nurse. From the footman, the intelli- 
 gence travelled to the housemaid, who commu- 
 nicated it to one of the young ladies, who had 
 quitted the dancing room to repair a fracture in 
 her dress. The news was speedily circulated 
 through the ball room, until it reached a circle 
 of young men, who had congregated together in 
 the true national spirit of English fashion, be- 
 tween a circle of ladies and the fire-place ; 
 having, as it seems, that amiable conviction on 
 their minds, that the fair sex can never be 
 
 B 3
 
 10 
 
 cold. There was, at the time, a pause in the 
 dance, which some of the young gentlemen pro- 
 posed to fill up by attempting to obtain a sight 
 of the young fugitive ; but they were gravely 
 admonished of the impropriety, and convinced 
 of the impossibility of the attempt, by Mr. 
 Warner, the master of the house, who assured 
 them that, whilst under his roof, Miss Fortescue 
 should meet with no sort of molestation. 
 
 This declaration was, of course, highly ap- 
 proved by the graver portion of the company, 
 although received with some indications of dis- 
 appointment by the young men ; but it was 
 observed, that, during the next dance, Henry 
 Warner, and Mr. Belfield, a young gentleman 
 of fortune in the neighbourhood, stole away 
 behind a large Japan screen, which stood in 
 one corner of the ball room.
 
 II 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Thus Nature gives us (let it check our pride) 
 The virtue nearest to our vice allied." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Miss FORTESCUE bad finished her solitary 
 repast in the school room, and was awaiting the 
 return of old Martha to conduct her to her 
 sleeping quarters ; when a sort of rustling 
 among the trees, which partly shrouded the 
 unshuttered window of the apartment in which 
 she sat, attracted her notice. She raised her 
 head, which she had rested upon her hands, and 
 looked earnestly at the window, which was 
 scarcely one story from the ground. Nothing, 
 however, but a few evergreen leaves, rendered 
 conspicuous by the heavy, but compact ac- 
 cumulation of snow pressing upon them, met 
 her view. She resigned herself again to her 
 own reflections : the sounds of music were no 
 longer distinct, and all was silence around her. 
 Admitted by stealth, and upon sufferance, to
 
 12 
 
 the home of others, possibly repentance for the 
 rash flight from discipline and restraint had 
 some share in the sadness which overspread 
 her countenance. Again, however, were her 
 thoughts disturbed by a rustling noise outside 
 the window ; and this time she saw that some 
 unseen force had brushed off the snow which 
 had rested upon the broad laurel leaves that 
 had before caught her eye. A little alarmed, 
 she turned to the door, to make the best of her 
 way to old Martha's more secure and appro- 
 priate domicile. The door of the room was, 
 however, locked ; for Martha, well aware of 
 the tendency of her master's grown-up sons to 
 mischief, was resolved that no one should in- 
 trude upon her " dear Miss Rosabel's" retreat, 
 and had not only secured the door outside, but 
 had taken the key with her. The young lady 
 was therefore obliged to remain in her present 
 state of durance ; and, being naturally of a 
 fearless temper, she began to laugh at her own 
 apprehensions, and resolved to make her way 
 boldly up to the window, and investigate the 
 cause of the noise which had disturbed her ; but 
 she repented her temerity; for as she advanced 
 heroically to the window, a pair of bright eyes,
 
 13 
 
 fixed upon her, met her gaze. She screamed, 
 and caught hold of the nearest chair to support 
 her from sinking with terror ; and her screams 
 were converted into piercing shrieks, when the 
 window being hastily thrown open, two young 
 gentlemen, in full dancing costume, sprang 
 into the apartment. 
 
 Rosabel was scarcely sixteen years of age ; 
 a wild, and wilful, and thoughtless girl, with an 
 imperfect education, and principles of action 
 not as yet developed. Treated, since the death 
 of a too indulgent mother, with the rigour 
 which was, half a century ago, considered as 
 the only proper method of managing servants, 
 and children, and all other inferior animals, 
 she deemed it a proof of heroism and spirit 
 to run away from a house of tyranny, to a 
 region of affection, and of indulgence, which 
 she expected to enjoy under the roof of Mrs. 
 Evelyn, her mother's sister. But Rosabel had 
 the most entire guilelessness of character, and 
 modesty of demeanour ; she had also a great 
 degree of pride, family pride in particular ; she 
 was keenly alive to insults, although hitherto 
 she had never experienced that, which of all 
 others afflicts a youthful female mind when
 
 14 
 
 properly constituted — an insult to her character 
 as a young and unprotected woman. 
 
 Notwithstanding her alarm, it required but 
 a few minutes to shew her that the two young 
 men who had now come unbidden into her 
 presence, had done so from an impertinent cu- 
 riosity, and an insolent frolic. They both, in- 
 deed, began apologizing for their intrusion, but 
 with so much haste and indiscretion, as to 
 make the matter far worse than on their first 
 entrance. 
 
 " I am quite shocked, Miss — Miss Fortescue," 
 began the younger of the two, " I'm shocked, 
 quite shocked at Mr. Belfield for frightening 
 you so — you see it was quite accidental, our 
 being — our — our being — " 
 
 " I am sure," interrupted his companion, 
 " we are quite shocked at having alarmed Miss 
 Fortescue." 
 
 " We never meant to come in," interrupted 
 Henry Warner. 
 
 " And we now beg leave," continued Mr. 
 Belfield, " with many apologies, to retire." 
 
 " — And the sooner the better," said Henry, 
 " for I hear my father's voice on the stairs. 
 " Now," said Mr. Belfield, " for a lecture.—
 
 15 
 
 Swear, Henry, my dear fellow, swear that it 
 was purely accidental, our being perched up in 
 the tree like two owls ; declare that we drop- 
 ped down from the clouds, or came down 
 the chimney. — But really," he added, con- 
 ceitedly, and with an officious civility which, 
 from one of his class, was not calculated to 
 propitiate Miss Fortescue, — " really I never 
 consider myself so unlucky as when I alarm 
 the fair sex. I must hope for forgiveness," he 
 continued, bowing, as he tapped his snuff-box, 
 and, holding it with one arm extended, took a 
 pinch, in the most approved style of those days 
 of attitudes and dancing schools. 
 
 As he spoke, a procession, headed by Mr. 
 Warner, with a tall candle in his hand, entered 
 the room. There was a set of inquisitive faces 
 looking over their host's shoulder, whilst Mar- 
 tha, flustered, and quite " put out," as she called 
 it, crept in, in the rear. She had, however, 
 apprized her master of the circumstances of 
 Miss Fortescue's flight ; but the screams of the 
 young lady had induced the opinion, not indeed 
 by any means unwarrantable, that some mental 
 aberration was connected with the source of this 
 unusual occurrence. Nor was this notion en-
 
 16 
 
 tirely dispelled on entering the apartment ; for 
 Rosabel, as the door opened, overwhelmed by 
 shame and fear, tacitly turned her back upon 
 the enemy, and, leaning her head upon a chair, 
 vouchsafed neither word nor look to those who 
 thus intruded upon her privacy. 
 
 " There is something quite out of the com- 
 mon in all this," whispered Mr. Warner in a 
 low tone to a gentleman behind him. " Don't 
 you wish you could see her face ?" 
 
 " I do, indeed," was the reply. 
 
 " Hem Be composed, madam." 
 
 Xo reply. 
 
 " A little sullen, you see; very symptom- 
 atic," whispered Mr. Warner, aside to the gen- 
 tleman near him. 
 
 Mr. Warner, it must be observed, was a 
 magistrate, and a man of magisterial manners 
 in his own house. He was one who pursued 
 his vocation con amove. The whirlwind of 
 contention which carried others away, was to 
 him only a little agreeable zephyr. lie ex- 
 celled in the character of an umpire, and 
 loved to exercise it, whether in a criminal 
 prosecution, or in a domestic broil. His dignity 
 on such occasions was proverbial ; though he
 
 17 
 
 sometimes sullied it, as wiser men have done, 
 by talking too much. In the present instance, 
 however, he felt somewhat embarrassed. 
 
 " I am happy," he said, after a few moments 
 of profound silence all around him, " to find, 
 madam, that you are so composed. Don't be 
 alarmed ; these things will occur with young 
 people. Bat, Henry — Mr. Belfield — how came 
 you here ? Vastly well, very pretty, young 
 gentlemen : I see how it is ; you have dis- 
 turbed the young lady" — casting a judicial eye 
 at the open window, and the snow-tracks on 
 the floor. " Upon my honour, Mr. Belfield, it 
 is not a very agreeable thing for me to remark, 
 that you have forced yourself into this young 
 lady's presence in a most unbecoming way — 
 most unbecoming." 
 
 " I am very sorry for it, I assure you, sir," 
 said Henry Warner, looking down, whilst a 
 smile played for a moment on his countenance. 
 " It was a sudden thought, and has not been, 
 I assure you, an agreeable enterprize." 
 
 He looked, shiveringly, at the window. 
 Mr. Warner, with his accustomed stateliness, 
 walked up to it, and closed it. 
 
 " It is very strange — I can regulate other
 
 18 
 
 people's matters, and not controul my own 
 family. Out of doors," he aided, emphatically, 
 " it is all very well; — there I am obeyed. I 
 will venture to say there is no one conduces 
 more to the peace of the county than myself." 
 
 No one disputed the position. The office of 
 Dictator General was indeed supposed to be- 
 come Mr. Warner well. Twice had he ap- 
 peased two ladies of the Borough of Cheverton, 
 at a ball, upon the subject of precedence ; and 
 recently had even prevented two doctors from 
 fighting over the bed of a patient, who had un- 
 luckily called in rivals to his aid, not know- 
 ing that Mr. A. would not meet Mr. B., nor 
 Mr. B. prescribe before Mr. A. But to return 
 to the narrative. 
 
 " Well, sir," resumed Mr. Warner, " we 
 will not press the penitent too far. ' You are 
 sorry,' you say : you are not come to the House 
 of Correction, Mr. Belfield ; we will dismiss 
 that part of the case. Ladies and gentlemen, 
 oblige me by withdrawing down stairs. Henry, 
 make your apologies to Miss Fortescue. I 
 hope he is forgiven." 
 
 The young man came forward with great 
 timidity, and stood, not daring to encounter the
 
 19 
 
 offended young lady, waiting in silence for her 
 pardon. Miss Fortescue at this moment did 
 condescend to look round. 
 
 " I will forgive you all," she said, hastily, 
 " if you will be kind enough to leave the 
 room." 
 
 " A most decisive judgment!" exclaimed 
 Mr. Warner ; " and, considering the lateness 
 of the hour, the best that can be pronounced." 
 
 " Miss Fortescue," he continued, as the door 
 closed, and the amused and wondering party 
 disappeared, Martha alone remaining — " don't 
 be startled, my dear ; we are not going to sign 
 a mandamus against you. I don't question the 
 reasons of your coming hither ; the evidence 
 of that bears upon another case. Just now, 
 we are defendants, and you are plaintiff. You 
 have reason to complain of something very 
 much of the nature of trespass ; but, since you 
 have done me the honour of seeking protection 
 in my house, protection you shall have." 
 
 Miss Fortescue, at this speech, took courage 
 to look at her magnanimous protector : she 
 seemed to gain composure by the survey. Mr. 
 Warner was of a thick set, common-place figure, 
 with an open, unfurrowed brow, a full eye, not
 
 20 
 
 very intelligent. He was dressed, for the gala, 
 in a Carmelite-coloured coat, suitable to his 
 magisterial gravity ; a dove-coloured satin waist- 
 coat, made deep, with flaps, according to the 
 mode then prevalent. His black velvet breeches 
 were set off with gold knee-bands. These 
 were the last days of gridiron shoe-buckles : 
 a pair of these, large and luminous, reached 
 nearly down to the worthy magistrate's toes. 
 His hair had been well u tormented," as it was 
 jocularly termed, for the occasion, and was con- 
 fined, behind, in one of the new-fashioned pig- 
 tails, tightly strapped with black ribbon, and 
 becoming narrower and narrower, until, ar- 
 riving nearly to a point, it terminated in a slen- 
 der curl. 
 
 " With regard to my son, and his young ac- 
 quaintance, MissFortescue, I am no accomplice. 
 I wipe my hands of it. Holding the prominent 
 situation that I do, and, more especially, being 
 a widower, and having the honour of being 
 known to Sir John, by character, no doubt — " 
 
 He waited, in vain, for an assent. 
 
 " I have not myself the honour of personally 
 knowing Sir John. The only public affair in 
 which Sir John and I were ever concerned
 
 21 
 
 together, was upon the occasion of his losing a 
 horse. You have heard of it, no doubt ; for it 
 made noise enough at the time." 
 
 " Very like, sir," said Martha, from behind ; 
 " but Miss is too young to remember that." 
 
 " However, that is nothing to the point. Sir 
 John, I dare say, knows me, although I do not 
 know him ; and allow me to observe, that you 
 much remind me of your father, Miss For- 
 tescue ; — I never saw Sir John but once, and 
 that was at the quarter sessions. We were 
 widowers, I think, about the same time." 
 
 " Miss Rosa favours her mother," whispered 
 Martha, in a low tone, from behind. 
 
 " That may be true, Martha," said Mr. 
 Warner, turning round somewhat sharply ; 
 " Miss Rosabel Fortescue may favour both her 
 parents, the living and the defunct. However, 
 business is business, madam," he again re- 
 sumed, " and must be done. It is not for me 
 to enquire into family dissensions, or family 
 matters — but — " 
 
 Another pause ensued ; and the grave, dis- 
 couraging manner of the young lady seemed to 
 say: " it is not for you to enquire." 
 
 " Indeed, it would be improper," he con-
 
 22 
 
 tinued, after some hesitation, " seeing that all 
 you can urge would be ex parte evidence, and 
 therefore by no means allowable when such 
 respectable persons as Sir John Fortescue and 
 Mrs. Waldegrave are concerned." 
 
 " Miss Rosa, I am sure," interposed Martha, 
 " would say nothing but what was the truth, 
 sir." 
 
 " Sir John, madam, I presume, knows of 
 your absence ?" said Mr. Warner, to Rosabel. 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " No ? Then I shall deem it my especial 
 duty to acquaint him of it, and to interdict you, 
 Martha, from forwarding his young lady's no- 
 tions of flight, under pain of a summons to 
 answer for your conduct. My friend Captain 
 Ashbrook lives in your neighbourhood, Miss 
 Rosabel ; and I shall depute him to make your 
 worthy father aware of your present position 
 within a very few hours." And, thus saying, 
 he quitted the apartment.
 
 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 iC Did he break out into tears ? 
 
 In preat measure. 
 More of him anon." — Shakspeare. 
 
 Sir John Fortescue and Mr. Warner, as 
 the latter remarked, had become widowers, and 
 about the same period ; but with very different 
 consequences to the happiness of both. Lady 
 Fortescue had been one of those lovely, easy, 
 careless beings who are born to be married 
 young, to have, and to spoil, large families. She 
 lived long enough to lavish, without show, and 
 by mere carelessness and mismanagement, Sir 
 John's not too ample means ; to see daughters 
 as lovely as herself growing up into young 
 women, without a single useful habit, or serious 
 idea ; to experience the stings of misconduct 
 and of disobedience in her eldest son ; to leave 
 three noisy younger children, of various ages,
 
 24 
 
 and of tempers peculiarly combustible, to the 
 management of a husband truly disconsolate. 
 
 Mrs. Warner, on the contrary, had been a 
 thrifty, hardy woman, whom no slight disease 
 could have carried off. She had " looked after 
 her children," as it is called, to the very last 
 moment — been up early and late, and had gone 
 on teaching and stitching till the day before her 
 death ; and had the glory of being considered 
 regularly worn out by duties which any servant 
 might have done for her. Her last action was 
 hemming a cravat for Mr. Warner. She left 
 the reputation of having been indeed a loss to 
 her family ; and Mr. Warner enjoyed that of 
 being a most inconsolable husband — his grief, 
 however, was not of that uncomfortable sort 
 which shuns observation and sympathy: it was 
 the theme of the neighbourhood, and was suit- 
 able to a man who lived so much in public. 
 He had been " such a pattern" when a husband ; 
 and he was now no less a pattern when a 
 widower. His grief was always in full dress. 
 
 Sir John Fortescue's sufferings, on the other 
 hand, had been borne in silence and patience, 
 and, after the first awful shock was over, were 
 invisible, except to the solicitous and expe-
 
 25 
 
 rienced eye of friendship. He had walked 
 into the small parish church, the Sunday 
 week after Lady Fortescue's funeral, con- 
 ducting his eldest daughter to the head of the 
 pew, her mother's former place, followed by 
 his numerous family, some of whom were too 
 young to know their loss : and once he had 
 looked round at the funeral decorations of the 
 church with unaltered eye ; and the servants, 
 and lookers on, and even his children, had won- 
 dered at his composure : but in the silent hours 
 of the night, when others slept, Martha, the old 
 nurse, would hear the bereaved mourner, her 
 master, pace up and down his solitary apart- 
 ment, and abandon himself to the anguish of 
 hopeless and heartfelt grief. 
 
 Sir John Fortescue had, however, ample 
 cause for exertion, to rouse him from the sor- 
 row of a refined and sensitive mind — for such 
 he possessed. He found his family affairs dis- 
 ordered, and his family ungovernable. A do- 
 mestic democracy prevailed ; each in his own 
 place was an independent member of the com- 
 munity. The children were alternately slaves 
 and rebels under this too common species of 
 government. The charm of Lady Fortescue's 
 VOL. I. C
 
 26 
 
 manners, her frequent ill health, the grace 
 which she knew how to throw over the social 
 board, her blind fondness for her children, and 
 her candour, and sweetness of character, had 
 all gilded over her defects of management to 
 her husband's view. When living, he could 
 scarcely bear to blame her, or even in thought 
 to reproach her pernicious indulgence as the 
 source of much irremediable mischief; when 
 dead, he could not endure to cast a momentary 
 reflection upon her memory, even to himself. 
 He blamed his own negligence, and regretted 
 that Parliamentary duties and other public 
 affairs had drawn him too frequently away from 
 home. He resolved to relinquish all such oc- 
 cupations as would interfere with his duty to 
 his family ; and he determined to resort to aid 
 upon which he could rely, to assist him in the 
 controul of his younger children. 
 
 Immediately after Lady Fortescue's death, 
 Mrs. Evelyn, her only sister, had arrived at 
 Hales Hall, to take a temporary charge of the 
 family: but her situation in life prevented her 
 from continuing to preside over her unruly 
 young relatives. She had married, at the age 
 of thirty, a clergyman of excellent character,
 
 27 
 
 but of valetudinarian habits ; and, although 
 their union had not been blessed with children, 
 yet the care of Mr. Evelyn's health, comforts, 
 and repasts, and the superintendance, morally 
 and corporeally, of a poor and extended parish, 
 were ample and important occupations for Mrs. 
 Evelyn. She remained, therefore, only a short 
 time at Hales Hall ; retiring to give place to 
 Sir John's two sisters, but leaving in the hearts 
 of her nieces and nephews a fond recollection 
 of her more than parental — her Christian care 
 of them, and a regret for her departure which 
 subsequent events tended strongly to confirm. 
 
 She was succeeded by Mrs. Waldegrave and 
 Miss Fortescue. Mrs. Waldegrave was a wi- 
 dow, without children, a sort of variegated old 
 maid ; her angular points of character were 
 all sharpened by a brief endurance of the yoke 
 of matrimony. Mr. Waldegrave had left her 
 somewhat poorer and prouder than he had found 
 her : she was one of those rigidly right, harshly 
 pious, and disagreeably good persons who ac- 
 quire credit, without conciliating affection. Her 
 religion had none of the benignant warmth, 
 the diffusive cheerfulness, the generosity, the 
 loveliness of Christianity ; it was that of ol>- 
 
 c2
 
 28 
 
 servances, of rules, of dogmas, of self-approba- 
 tion, and of unrelenting condemnation of those 
 who differed from her. The leaven of old 
 superstition clung about her ; she still placed 
 too much reliance upon the " tithe of mint, 
 anise, and cummin," and too little importance 
 upon the spirit, without which those tributes 
 were without value. Her mode of religious 
 instruction partook of this error. She liked 
 so many services to be said, so many collects to 
 be learned, so many hymns to be repeated. 
 The deep conviction of the heart was a se- 
 condary question. 
 
 The source of all true virtue being vitiated, 
 Mrs. Waldegrave's notions may be easily es- 
 timated. That " chanty which begins — and 
 stays at home" she could perfectly well under- 
 stand. To have a proper sense of one's own 
 rights, to cultivate a due contempt for others, 
 to steel one's heart against any melting sym- 
 pathies with the erring, always to blame the 
 unfortunate, always to pay court to the pros- 
 perous, — these were her leading, if not avowed, 
 rules of conduct. 
 
 Aunt Alice, as the children called her, was 
 a weak echo of Mrs. Waldegrave, upon whose
 
 29 
 
 stronger judgment she implicitly relied, and 
 from whose decisions she considered there was 
 no appeal. She was, as the Scotch say, like 
 " the gowk to the titling," or, in good Saxon, 
 like the hedge-sparrow and the cuckoo : her ac- 
 tions were all imitative of her more wily sister. 
 The language, demeanour, and actions of the 
 one were the pattern for the other. But, as the 
 stronger qualities of Mrs. Waldegrave were 
 diluted by a touch of imbecility in Aunt Alice, 
 Mrs. Waldegrave's pride shone forth in Aunt 
 Alice in the form of a little petulant variety, or 
 was ridiculously obtrusive and boastful. But 
 to return from this slight sketch to the main 
 subject of my history. 
 
 It may readily be conceived, that a family, 
 hitherto blindly indulged, were not likely 
 readily to bend to the iron rule of these two 
 ladies. Charlotte, the eldest, of weak health, 
 and not over-strong understanding, did indeed, 
 after many tears, and a few attempts at sullen- 
 ness, succomb to a yoke which was less repul- 
 sive to her, than to the high-spirited Rosabel, 
 who had as yet, in the expressive language of 
 her brothers, " cared lor no one." Rosabel 
 had been hitherto looked upon as one of those
 
 30 
 
 wild animals which never can be tamed ; she 
 had almost governed her mother, and quite 
 governed her sister Charlotte ; had won many 
 a trophy in battle from her brothers ; and re- 
 sisted, with indomitable spirit, the usurpations 
 of servants and governesses. Of her father she 
 knew nothing ; for hitherto, when he had been 
 at home, he had liked his ease and pleasure, 
 and had been contented to see a smiling, healthy 
 family around him, without enquiring minutely 
 into their mental and moral condition ; a trait 
 in his otherwise irreproachable conduct, for 
 which he was doomed to experience the se- 
 verest retribution. 
 
 During the interregnum over which Mrs. 
 Evelyn had presided, affairs had gone on much 
 in the same way. Servants had domineered, 
 boys had fought, governesses dozed over their 
 lessons, Charlotte had been passive, Rosabel 
 had been spoiled. But, when Mrs. "Walde- 
 grave and Miss Fortescue held the reins of 
 government, a reform bill was quickly framed, 
 introduced, and carried through the house. 
 As in public establishments, sinecures were 
 abolished, salaries reduced, pensions struck off, 
 accounts regulated, the consumption of articles
 
 31 
 
 restrained. All this was admirable, however 
 the malcontents might complain of favoritism, 
 as is their wont in other more important insti- 
 tutions ; and although it might be rumoured 
 that the humbler and really laborious placemen 
 were reduced, whilst the higher offices were 
 left untouched. Still, however, the motive for 
 retrenchment was excellent ; the necessity in- 
 dubitable ; the results, it might be hoped, would 
 be efficacious ; and Sir John felt the more 
 obliged to his sisters for their exertions, because 
 he deemed the nature of those efforts to be dis- 
 agreeable. But in this he was mistaken. Mrs. 
 Waldegrave enjoyed power, luxuriated in 
 humbling the humble, revelled in cavilling at 
 an account, and rejoiced in the dignity of being 
 feared. Aunt Alice was glad that the maids 
 were not allowed to wear lappets, or high 
 necks, " they were coming to such a pass ;" 
 and was particularly happy that her nieces were 
 no longer unrestricted as to silk stockings. 
 Such extravagance as reigned at Hales Hall 
 she had never witnessed before. 
 
 These preliminary matters being arranged, 
 then were the unhappy younger members to 
 be inthralled and tutored. Charlotte was soon
 
 32 
 
 caught and incaged, and, like a bullfinch, made 
 to sing only the song she was taught. The 
 elder boys were always at school or at college, 
 or in other occupations. The little children, 
 by means of removing their former attendants, 
 by daily intimidation, the use of a closet dun- 
 geon, banishment to a noon-day bed, seclusion 
 from all happiness, half dinners, whole lectures, 
 poetry, spelling, and other inflictions, were soon 
 subdued, if not improved. They crept about, 
 and looked pitifully at the eye which had a 
 glance of mercy — came into the dining room, 
 marshalled, a little corps of good children, 
 with their bows and curtsies. The sound of 
 the battledore, and the top, the loud laugh, the 
 treble notes of infantile delight, were heard no 
 more. Hunt the slipper was obsolete ; blind 
 man's buff was vulgar. It was not lady-like 
 to run, nor like a gentleman to laugh and romp. 
 Monitory sounds were now heard along the 
 broad sunny terrace-walk, instead of the jest, 
 and the halloo of thoughtless merriment. The 
 little Fortescues, in spite of nature, and early 
 education, were actually becoming genteel, — 
 and miserable. — But Rosabel, with her dark 
 flashing eye, her gait of pride, and her rebel-
 
 33 
 
 lious heart, was still unsubdued. Hitherto her 
 fair, open brow had been seldom clouded by 
 sorrow, nor even by anger ; for life had been 
 all a sunny day to her. Her transports of pas- 
 sion had been evanescent ; for her character 
 was not one which could retain injuries. She 
 had prized, and tyrannized over her sisters ; 
 and loved, and quarrelled with her brothers. 
 She had scarce known contradiction, nor oppo- 
 sition ; and was ill calculated to encounter that 
 controul over every minute action, that fasti- 
 dious investigation into every motive and feel- 
 ing, which the sway of Mrs. Waldegrave had 
 introduced. At first, Rosabel stormed and 
 fretted, and returned reproach for reproach, 
 and taunt for taunt; then her young spirits 
 were bowed down by dejection, and the cal- 
 lousness of despair came over her. Still, how- 
 ever, she was inflexible ; and it was after re- 
 newed causes of irritation had fired her into 
 fresh resolution, that she adopted the rash step, 
 the circumstances of which have already been 
 detailed. 
 
 c 3
 
 34 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 My mother, — when I heard that thou wast dead^ 
 Say, — wast thou conscious of the tears I shed?" 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 Early on a frosty morning, two days after 
 Rosabel's elopement, Sir John Fortescue's 
 carriage was seen driving up to the door of 
 Mr. Warner's house. Rosabel, as she stood, 
 finishing her morning toilet attire, could com- 
 mand, from a little window which looked side- 
 ways upon the principal entrance to the house, 
 a view of Mrs. Waldegrave, stepping out, tall 
 and straight as a Scotch pine, independently, 
 without seeming to notice the aid which was 
 offered her by her own footman, or by Mr. 
 Warner's servant, who ran out upon the steps 
 at the sound of the carriage wheels. Rosabel's 
 very heart was chilled, as she observed her 
 Aunt Alice creeping out after Mrs. Walde-
 
 35 
 
 grave, and, in imitation of her prototype, march 
 into the house with an air of as much dignity 
 as the cold blasts, which cramped every limb 
 at this early hour, could permit her to assume. 
 They looked like the proper accompaniments 
 of the season — cold, biting, comfortless. 
 
 " They are come, Martha, in full force," 
 said Rosabel, — " to take me home, I suppose ; 
 must I go ?" 
 
 " Didn't you promise me last night, Miss 
 Rosa ? and was not Captain Ashbrook to make 
 the old ladies understand that not a word was 
 to be said to you if you did go ? That was 
 agreed upon, you know." 
 
 " True," groaned Rosabel — her youthful ima- 
 gination heightened by her hatred of her Aunts ; 
 " but, depend upon it, Martha, I shall be im- 
 mured, with Aunt Alice to watch me, no doubt. 
 I know you will never see me again ; I shall be 
 shut up in Aunt Waldegrave's dressing room — 
 any where but there ! — or sent, perhaps, in 
 banishment to Drayfield." 
 
 " Never, while Martha lives," said the old 
 nurse, weeping. " Now I know all, I shall 
 take care that Sir John knows it too."
 
 30 
 
 " What would my poor dear mama say, 
 Martha, if she were alive?" pursued Rosabel, 
 who was now in tears also. — " Her being ever 
 alive, — my ever having had any one that loved 
 me so, seems to me now all a dream. And her 
 death seems to me a dream too. Don't yon 
 remember, Martha, when poor little Howard 
 was born, how you told me to sit in the lobby, 
 and listen by the door, and that by and bye I 
 should hear a new brother or sister cry ? And 
 I did hear it ; and the sounds of rejoicing, and 
 the bustle of footsteps too. Ah, Martha, can I 
 ever forget what followed ? — Suddenly there 
 was a stillness — I listen'd, I went close to the 
 door — I heard nothing — not a footstep — and, 
 after a time, you came out, with the infant in 
 your arms — but, ah ! how still mama's room 
 was ! — and I never heard her voice again." 
 
 She covered her face with her hands, and, 
 with the old nurse, wept bitterly. 
 
 " It seems to me, Martha, that I never really 
 grieved for mama till now," said Rosabel, rais- 
 ing her head — " when I think what must be 
 my life at home." 
 
 " Ah ! poor dear my lady/' interposed Mar-
 
 37 
 
 tha, sighing deeply ; " what would she say to 
 it indeed ?" 
 
 " I shall beg of them to let me go to Aunt 
 Evelyn." 
 
 " That they will not do, dear Miss Rosa ; 
 there has always been a jealousy." 
 
 " I shall beg of them to let me go to school." 
 — " And then you would run away again," said 
 Martha: " school would never do for you, Miss 
 Rosa." 
 
 But now their conversation was suddenly 
 interrupted by the entrance of a servant, who 
 came to summon them down stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Waldegrave and Mr. Warner had, by 
 this time, thawed into something like a friendly 
 footing — a circumstance to be ascribed to the 
 deferential reception which the two sisters had 
 encountered from the Magistrate. As he hap- 
 pened to be the only member of his family, 
 except the servants, down stairs, he stepped 
 forth, at the sound of carriage wheels, on the 
 scent for an event of some nature ; and an event 
 in the country is a blessing to the active-minded, 
 even if it be not altogether of an agreeable 
 nature : still there is a great deal in having
 
 38 
 
 something to do. Mr. Warner, with a tact 
 habitual to a man accustomed to business, 
 quickly discerned the object of Mrs. Walde- 
 grave's visit, and had made no inconsiderable 
 progress in that lady's good opinion, when Rosa- 
 bel, followed by Martha, entered the apartment. 
 As the heroine of this little romance, or 
 farce, or melodrama, whichever my readers 
 may please to consider it, afterwards learned, a 
 neighbour of Sir John's, Captain Ashbrook, 
 lately returned from abroad, had undertaken to 
 make an arrangement with her aunts, in case 
 of her being restored to her home. The most 
 positive promise had been obtained that no 
 reproaches, nor even admonitions, except from 
 Sir John Fortescue himself, should ensue upon 
 the return of the young fugitive ; and this 
 promise had preceded the disclosure of her re- 
 treat, which was made upon that condition 
 only ; Captain Ashbrook then revealing that he 
 had accidentally seen her on the preceding 
 evening. Mrs. Waldegrave was therefore 
 obliged to restrain her natural fluency upon the 
 subject of delinquencies, and to incur the pe- 
 nalty of being constrained to adopt that inge-
 
 39 
 
 nious mode of correcting an offender generally 
 known by the phrase of " talking at" a person. 
 
 " Good morning, Miss Rosabel ; good day, 
 Martha ; I hope you are quite well ;" with a 
 look that seemed to say, ' I hate the very sight 
 of you.' " Yes, Mr. Warner, as we were ob- 
 serving, young gentlewomen in our day had 
 not these notions; they were to be seen, not 
 heard : I never remember addressing my father, 
 Sir Hubert Fortescue, in my life, until first 
 spoken to" — 
 
 " Very good indeed, exactly the order in 
 which I keep my own family," replied Mr. 
 Warner : " you know we are used to deference 
 in the justice-room. — I have not the honor of 
 remembering Sir Hubert, I am not long of this 
 county ; but have understood that he was a 
 gentleman of an excellent reputation." 
 
 " Our family," observed Mrs. Waldegrave, 
 " is not of yesterday ; and you may suppose, 
 Mr. Warner, how obnoxious it must be to ?ts, 
 who have never known the breath of slander 
 but by its affecting others, — how obnoxious it 
 must be to have a sort of stigma attaching to 
 us, through the misconduct of any member of 
 Sir John's family."
 
 40 
 
 " The remark is too just," observed Mr. 
 Warner, shaking his head ; " I don't know my- 
 self that I had ever a more unpleasant differ- 
 ence to settle than that which you hint at, being 
 more accustomed to legislate for young gentle- 
 men than young ladies ; but" — 
 
 " We will waive the subject, Mr. Warner, 
 if you please. — You were alluding to Sir Hu- 
 bert: he was one of the most exact men in the 
 world ; a man who took the most exact order 
 in his affairs; a great scholar, and lived, and, 
 I may say, — died, with the ' Whole duty of 
 Man' under his pillow." 
 
 " Poor man !" said Henry Warner to him- 
 self, for he had crept into the room, and stood 
 peeping over his father's shoulder, full of curi- 
 osity. 
 
 " I ring for my carriage, if you please, Mr, 
 Warner. — Young people, now-a-days, think all 
 sober reading dull ; and I assure you, Mr. 
 Warner, I have heard certain young ladies ap- 
 ply that term ifc the holy and excellent work in 
 question : not that I object to some species of 
 entertainment : — there are Mrs. Rowe's ' Let- 
 ters from the Dead to the Living,' very pretty 
 reading, and what a lady ought to read : as for
 
 41 
 
 history, which my father was not fond of for 
 young ladies, I don't think exactly we should 
 be content, Mr. Warner, like certain young 
 ladies that I know, to take it all from Shake- 
 speare's plays. Sir Hubert used to say, ' Study 
 your duty, girls, first ;' and, after that, he made 
 no exceptions to easy reading.- — But I lose time. 
 Sir John will probably be by this hour returned, 
 and will be expecting us home. — Miss Rosabel, 
 we see you first, if you please : nay, but you 
 must fain be content to receive Martha's last 
 wishes of duty here; I wish you your health, 
 Martha ; Mr. Warner, good day ; and should 
 you ever" — 
 
 " Oh ! I will make it my business to call 
 upon Sir John," exclaimed the worthy ma* 
 gistrate. 
 
 " I should be sorry for you to give yourself 
 that trouble," said Mrs. Waldegrave haughtily ; 
 " seeing that my brother is so seldom at Hales 
 Hall : Sir John will, I am sure, make a point 
 of writing to you. Sister Alice, I attend your 
 pleasure ; good day, Mr. Warner ; good day, 
 young gentleman :" and, without condescend- 
 ing to turn her head to the right, or to the left, 
 as she uttered these adieu x, Mrs. Waldegrave
 
 42 
 
 entered her carriage, and drove off, sitting 
 erect, in stern encounter with the unhappy 
 Rosabel, who was planted, in deep dejection, 
 on the back seat, directly opposite to her elder 
 aunt. 
 
 The short journey, only seven miles, was 
 made in total silence. Mrs. Waldegrave look- 
 ed out of one window, Miss Alice out of 
 the other. Vickey, Mrs. Waldegrave's dog, 
 with a comforter round his throat, stood up on 
 the seat between them, keeping his sharp, tri- 
 cornered eyes fixed upon Rosabel all the time ; 
 she, poor girl, wishing every moment that she 
 could open the carriage door, and make her 
 escape. But they drew near home, and other 
 feelings besides anger, and dislike, began to 
 possess her mind. 
 
 Hales Hall, the family seat of the Fortescues, 
 was in a style of architecture peculiar to this 
 country, during the latter period of the last 
 century. It was built of genuine red brick, 
 roofed with tiles of actual blue, and decorated 
 down its various compartments with narrow 
 facings of stone. Its whole appearance sug- 
 gested the notion rather of comfort, than of ele- 
 gance or splendour, though it extended over no
 
 43 
 
 inconsiderable portion of ground, and was com- 
 posed of a substantial-looking centre, and two 
 wings, which, like most wings, whether of se- 
 raph or cherub, that I have seen, appeared to 
 encumber the main body. It stood well, on a 
 gentle eminence, partly covered with wood, and 
 the near approach to it was embellished by ex- 
 tensive and highly cultivated pleasure-grounds, 
 in which Lady Fortescue had taken great de- 
 light. 
 
 Rosabel, nurtured within the walls of this 
 modern edifice, had, with a girlish tincture of 
 romance, often regretted that her grandfather, 
 Sir Hubert, should have pulled down, in the 
 spirit of what is called improvement, the old 
 house, the real Hales Hall, and erected this 
 spacious dwelling in its stead. Like Camden, 
 she would " have restored antiquity to England, 
 and England to antiquity." A small drawing 
 of the house of her ancestors hung in her 
 father's library ; and its gable ends, odd-look- 
 ing corners, cumbrous chimneys, and decorated 
 doorway, were much to Rosabel's fancy. The 
 park, however, was old; the elm which grew 
 on the grass-plot before the house was old, the 
 thorns which grew on the slope were old, even
 
 44 
 
 the swans on the pools were as old as swans 
 could be ; and the pictures, and books, and 
 other appendages to the ordinary furniture, 
 were of sufficient age to gratify the spirits of 
 Stowe, or Leland, or Strype, or any other of 
 those old porers into the dusty corners of anti- 
 quity, had those worthy gentlemen been in ex- 
 istence. 
 
 It so happened that Sir John had reached 
 home, before the party had returned from Fair- 
 ford ; and Rosabel, to her dismay, saw him 
 pacing up and down in apparent anxiety, along 
 a little by-walk among the trees, apart from the 
 observance of public curiosity. 
 
 In spite of her natural courage, she trembled, 
 for her father was not a person whose rebukes 
 could be met with indifference. Hitherto she 
 had never experienced anything like severitv 
 from his hands ; he had merely been held up 
 to her as the last resort in cases of extra diso- 
 bedience : an appeal to him was the ne plus 
 ultra of punishment, and she knew not how she 
 could encounter his frown. 
 
 Nothing is so soon perceived as one's own 
 disgrace ; the " altered eye" of the very me- 
 nial proclaimed it to Rosabel : and she read, in
 
 45 
 
 the grave and silent mode of rendering such 
 services as were indispensable, that she was re- 
 ceived at home as a culprit; that the ban of 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, of Aunt Alice, and of Sir 
 John's displeasure, was issued against her. This 
 was, however, a minor grief; indeed it roused 
 her to indignation ; but the flush of angry pride 
 died away upon her cheek, when she saw a little 
 assembly of her younger sisters and brother at 
 the extremity of the hall, attracted from their 
 usual haunts by the sound of the carriage, draw 
 back as she approached, and look timorously at 
 their aunts, without offering to run forward and 
 kiss her. Howard indeed, poor little innocent, 
 held out his arms for her to take him in hers ; 
 and, oh ! how fond, and how fervent were the 
 caresses which for a few minutes she gave him, 
 until Mrs. Waldegrave's stern " Take him 
 away, nurse," recalled her to herself; and 
 Rosabel was summoned away, being informed 
 by a servant that Sir John required her imme- 
 diate attendance in the library. 
 
 Sir John was seated when she entered, 
 having entered the house by a different way. 
 Rosabel had scarcely strength to close the door 
 after her ; the voice of her father, when he
 
 4G 
 
 commanded her to do so, made her start, al- 
 though the sound was by no means a loud, or an 
 angry one. She knew not what she expected, 
 nor how to demean herself. 
 
 Previously to the interview, she had deter- 
 mined to tell her father all her grievances, and 
 troubles, and to throw herself on his mercy ; 
 but now she had not a word to say, an idea to 
 impel her to speak. 
 
 Sir John was a grave man, and a proud man, 
 and a little deaf. He had never cultivated the 
 affections of his children, and he scarcely knew 
 whether they had hearts or not. Of one thing 
 he had always been assured, that Rosabel had 
 far less feeling, more violence of character, 
 and about a hundred more faults than her elder 
 sister. Since his sisters had come to reside 
 with him, he had been perpetually incited to 
 lecture, correct, and humble poor Rosabel ; but 
 he knew not how it was; there was something 
 so open and guileless about the poor girl, — 
 her air was so frank, her step so bounding, her 
 laugh so joyous, that he could not bear to 
 check what he thought might be innocent hap- 
 piness, by unnecessary severity. 
 
 Upon the present occasion, he had well con-
 
 47 
 
 siderod his conduct. He was shocked and ha- 
 rassed beyond measure by the imprudent step 
 
 she had taken ; but he did not — what parent 
 
 does ? — consider his child's character as de- 
 praved beyond remedy ; and he saw, or sus- 
 pected, that severity had done its utmost: some 
 
 new plan mUS< he adopted, — perhaps kindness ; 
 it was quite an innovation on the order of 
 things, but it might be tried. 
 
 After some minutes' parley with himself, Sir 
 John turned to address his daughter. He had 
 
 a dark and somewhat stern eye, and the contour 
 of his brOW, and of his aquiline features, was 
 
 austere; but there was a softness in his voice 
 
 as he said : 
 
 " Rosabel, draw near, — give me your hand ; 
 — I say nothing to you respecting what you have 
 
 done, because—] am sure that, if you could 
 
 have guessed the pain it has caused me, you 
 
 would not have done it." 
 
 Rosabel sank at. her father's feet; she clung 
 even to his knees; she kissed again and again 
 the proffered hand ; she threw herself into his 
 arms. 
 
 These were silent indications of repentance,
 
 48 
 
 but of a repentance " not to be repented of;" 
 they were the first dawnings of actual filial 
 affection; the first assurances of filial duty: 
 and the silent pledge thus given, was sacred.
 
 49 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " How would you be, 
 If he, which is the top of judgment, should 
 But judge you as you are ? O, think on that." 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 Happily for Rosabel, the corrective process 
 which the world sooner or later inflicts, began, 
 in her case, at an early period, to chasten and 
 strengthen her character ; and she ceased to be 
 a creature of impulse merely, before she had 
 arrived at that season of life when errors of 
 judgment, and the indulgence of misguided 
 inclination, become of vital consequence to our 
 happiness, or welfare. 
 
 It was not until now, that her father had es- 
 tablished in her heart the first principle of an 
 attachment towards himself on her part, not 
 merely instinctive. She had found him lenient, 
 when she expected him to be severe ; she had 
 met with his forgiveness, when she knew that 
 she merited banishment from his presence 4 . 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 
 
 She now began, for the first time, fo feel that 
 his good opinion was necessary to the conti- 
 nuance of her own self-complacency, and, con- 
 sequently, to her comfort. Neglected, and 
 even, in petty instances, oppressed, Rosabel 
 was grateful for small favours ; in this respect 
 differing from most persons of her age, who, 
 generally partaking of the goods of life without 
 trouble or forethought, know not how to appre- 
 ciate them until the variations of capricious 
 human nature, or the changes and chances of 
 life, have taught them gratitude to the few, 
 from whom disinterested kindness is to be ex- 
 pected. Accustomed also to solitude, for Char- 
 lotte prudently shunned the contagion of her 
 scape-grace sister, Rosabel was also romantic. 
 She was prone to the working of that exploded 
 good, or evil genius, as it may be considered, 
 enthusiasm. This was, she knew, a vital defect 
 in Mrs. Waldegrave's sight; and she carefully 
 concealed her cherished failings — yet it sus- 
 tained her, and the objects of her enthusiasm 
 were innocent, and lofty, and holy. 
 
 In the first place, her love of nature ren- 
 dered solitude less irksome to her, than it 
 would have been for the careless observer,
 
 51 
 
 or the systematic reasoner, whose actions are 
 "ruled with a ruler*." And with regard to 
 her enthusiasm for individuals, she had two 
 objects : of these, her father was undoubtedly 
 the first ; but she had another, also from motives 
 of gratitude, in the neighbour of Sir John For- 
 tescue, Captain Ash brook, the only son of a 
 gentleman of large property in the county. 
 
 Captain Ashbrook was, as she understood, 
 the kind-hearted mediator who had undertaken 
 to treat with her aunts in her behalf, and who 
 had done it so effectually, that, she was not only 
 suffered to bear her disgrace in silence, on her 
 return home, but to all appearance rein- 
 stated in her usual condition, with some amelio- 
 ration as to the independance of her actions. 
 Rosabel had never, to her knowledge, seen 
 Captain Ashbrook, but he was a man of high 
 character, young, accomplished, brave, and, 
 about this time, to add to the interest, he had 
 again sailed to join his regiment in America. 
 Rosabel heard of general regrets for his ab- 
 sence, and expressions of admiration for the 
 short, but brilliant military career which his 
 life, from the age of twenty, to that of twenty- 
 
 * Elia. 
 
 D 2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARY.
 
 52 
 
 seven, had presented. And now, he had gone 
 to join the gallant Sir Henry Clinton at New 
 York. In the course of this year, the news- 
 papers announced that the forts of Montgomery 
 and Clinton had been reduced. Captain Ash- 
 brook had accompanied General Clinton from 
 New York, and had distinguished himself in 
 the perilous but brilliant enterprize, brilliant 
 at least in comparison with those which had 
 preceded it, and the more extolled in conse- 
 quence. They had sailed up Hudson's river ; 
 and Rosabel, who had all her life abjured study, 
 began to apply to geography. — Captain Ash- 
 brook was left in the garrison in one of the 
 captured forts. Several of the neighbouring 
 families had sons, or brothers, or nephews, 
 engaged in the disastrous contentions with 
 America ; but none had as yet obtained any 
 military fame, or been mentioned in the private 
 dispatches with so much distinction as Captain 
 Ashbrook. This was the period (1777) when 
 England began to find that her exhausted resour- 
 ces were indeed failing her, and that able men, 
 willing for the contest, were now to be sought 
 in the higher and middling classes, not yet 
 thinned by the repeated slaughters which had
 
 53 
 
 reduced our forces in an alarming degree. 
 Volunteer corps were raised, many gentlemen 
 of honourable families acting in them as 
 privates. 
 
 Thus, a spirit of military adventure was 
 generally diffused ; and whilst the contest with 
 America, contending, as she doubtless was, 
 with England under the " masked battery of 
 France," was still reprobated by reflective and 
 discerning persons, the gallantry with which 
 it was carried on, on both sides, and the deep 
 stake which the country had in the contest, a 
 stake not only consisting in political interests, 
 but vested in the sons, the brothers, the hus- 
 bands of those peacefully at home, gave to the 
 military character an importance fostered by our 
 best affections. 
 
 Rosabel, therefore, felt even some degree of 
 pride that the gallant Captain Ashbrook, with 
 whose praises nearly all the county rang, should 
 have concerned himself in one so lowly, although 
 it was on an occasion little likely to impress him 
 with much respect for her memory. He had 
 also said some kind and palliative things of her 
 in other quarters, and avowed an interest in her 
 future welfare, maintaining, in a party at Air.
 
 54 
 
 Warner's, as Rosabel learned from Martha, in 
 a subsequent interview with her former nurse, 
 that such flights of fancy as Rosabel had dis- 
 plaved were not indicative of future delinquency. 
 This was a doctrine too agreeable to her, and 
 its assertion was too kindly meant, not to render 
 Captain Ashbrook, for the time, the favourite 
 hero of Rosabel's imagination, that beau ideal 
 of excellence which every romantic girl frames 
 to herself, and which is seldom personified in 
 one of their own sex. Meantime, a year slid 
 away. Rosabel's education, as it was called, 
 proceeded much in the usual mode with young 
 ladies in the country of that period. She had 
 all her life resolutely opposed herself to tuition, 
 and had struck out her own mode of study. 
 Instructors were at that time scarce; and such 
 as there were, but indifferent. From the organ- 
 ist at Shrewsbury the Misses Fortescue picked 
 up a jingling of music, which they were but 
 too happy to abandon at a later period of life : 
 Rosabel had, indeed, a wild, careless way of 
 singing of her own, and, as her voice was sweet 
 and clear, Sir John, as he sometimes heard her 
 untaught notes in the shrubbery, and listened 
 to her warbling away snatches of old tunes to
 
 55 
 
 Howard, thought, with a father's partiality, 
 that it was well enough. Besides this, and a 
 little French, and a little embroidery, and a 
 little dancing, taught by three itinerant pro- 
 fessors, who each came once a quarter, very 
 little instruction was imparted ; and the solid 
 branches of education might be acquired by 
 accident, or they might be omitted altogether. 
 From her youth upwards, Rosabel, in particu- 
 lar, had set spelling at defiance, detested gram- 
 mar, and never could be taught accounts. 
 
 Thus, unemployed as their minds were, the 
 sisters ripened into womanhood : both, according 
 to general estimation, entitled, by personal ap- 
 pearance, to become CountyBelles ; both decided 
 contrasts to each other in every attribute. Char- 
 lotte methodical, but shallow — prudent, but de- 
 void of talent — indifferent to any sort of culti- 
 vation — and not over-stocked with sensibility. 
 Rosabel, with desultory habits, and quick feel- 
 ings ; not averse to intellectual improvement, if 
 she knew how to set about it. As imprudent as 
 any human being could be, credulous, and reck- 
 less ; perhaps, not really so fond of admiration 
 as Charlotte ; but, to all appearance, far less anx- 
 ious to retire from it in public. Attractive, if not
 
 56 
 
 strictly beautiful, she was, of all persons, most 
 calculated, at this early season of her life, to 
 be admired by the one sex, and to be disliked 
 and depreciated by the other. 
 
 Meantime, she was verging to the completion 
 of her seventeenth year, little noticed, and, ap- 
 parently, little prized by any one, when an 
 accident disclosed to her that her father was not 
 so indifferent to her happiness as she, at one 
 time, conceived. She was prone, like all girls 
 of an imaginative turn, to desultory reading — a 
 taste, under Mrs. Waldegrave's jurisdiction, 
 not very easily indulged. Sir John's smaller 
 library, however, was encumbered with books 
 in delightful confusion, so that a volume or two 
 of Moliere — translated, alas! of course, for 
 Rosabel, — or of the Spectator, — or Bell's The- 
 atre, — or any other of those forbidden hoards 
 of miscellaneous amusement which the young 
 love to rummage, half forgetting, half digesting, 
 what they read, — or even a novel or two, — 
 could not, in the plenitude of disorder, be 
 readily missed. 
 
 Rosabel, ignorant as she was, had little re- 
 gard to time or place, when once her atten- 
 tion was riveted by the sort of reading she
 
 57 
 
 loved. She was immersed, one afternoon, in Ad- 
 dison's exquisite tale of Theodore and Constan- 
 tia, in which the interest rests upon one incident 
 alone. She had read to that part, where, after 
 years of separation, and changed in all but their 
 mutual attachment,' — disguised by conventual 
 attire, — shackled by conventual vows, — they 
 meet again — the confessor and the confess- 
 ing; — at that moment of interest, her father's 
 step and voice broke even that illusion : she 
 was not in the confessional with Theodore ; 
 but in a retired nook of the library, a small 
 apartment, which, for warmth, was parted from 
 the principal room by a green curtain. The 
 curtain was, fortunately, at this moment drawn 
 across. 
 
 " Sister," said Sir John Fortescue, some- 
 what sternly, " what is the use of reviving 
 these things ? Let all recollection of them be 
 avoided. The world,- Penelope, will be glad 
 enough to revive such early delinquencies, if 
 her own family are not determined, altogether, 
 to dispel them from recollection." 
 
 " Yes, brother," Mrs. Waldegrave began ; 
 " but in case of Miss Fortescue's being intro- 
 duced — of course, Rosa is not to come out at 
 
 D 3
 
 58 
 
 present — and, poor thing, had she not better 
 still continue dining with the governess, in re- 
 gard to four o'clock being a late hour for her 
 tender years ?" 
 
 " Indeed, sister, I doubt it. Rosa is old 
 enough to behave herself at table ; and, if a 
 taste for good society be not given her, she will 
 take to that which is beneath her." 
 
 " Very likely," replied Mrs. Waldegrave. 
 
 — Rosabel could fancy the shake of the 
 head which accompanied those two words. 
 
 " People will be glad enough to revive the 
 remembrance of her early follies, sister, if we 
 do not show that they are forgotten at home," 
 said Sir John. 
 
 " That is uncommonly true," observed weak 
 Aunt Alice, intending to aid her sister, but na- 
 vigating, as she always did, without compass. 
 " If you had heard Mrs. Goodyer, the other 
 day : — < Miss Rosabel quite well, and at home 
 just now ?' " 
 
 " It is of little use, Alice, to mark such idle 
 inuendoes. Rosabel, indeed, is likely to give 
 me trouble enough" — 
 
 Sir John spoke in a tone which went to Ro- 
 sabel's heart.
 
 59 
 
 " With regard to Charlotte," he continued, 
 " I feel not the least uneasiness ; her docility 
 — her self-command — her dutiful conduct to 
 her aunts." (Mrs. Waldegrave and Miss Alice 
 bowed assent to each of these clauses). — " Char- 
 lotte is sure to do well. But Rosa is wilful, 
 yet gifted"— 
 
 " I am glad," thought Rosabel, " I have 
 some sort of merit." 
 
 — " Engaging, but thoughtless and uncertain ; 
 and, since the world," continued Sir John, little 
 thinking who listened to him, — " since the 
 world accords her the meed of personal charms, 
 although I own I see it not" (fathers are so 
 dull) — " I cannot but anticipate for her many 
 temptations — " 
 
 " To which she will but too readily give ear," 
 croaked Mrs. Waldegrave. 
 
 "And snares — " 
 
 " Which her own folly will make for her." 
 
 But at this critical part of the conversation, 
 Sir John was suddenly called off. 
 
 " I am certainly highly flattered," thought 
 Rosabel, when, upon finding the coast clear, 
 she emerged from her hiding place : " but my 
 father — my kind, yet harsh— affectionate, yet
 
 60 
 
 austere, father — shall not find his Rosabel so 
 wilful, vain, and ill-fated a being as he has set 
 her down for. No, Aunt Waldegrave — no, 
 Aunt Alice; I mean to be something better 
 than either of you yet. With many, many 
 thanks for your good opinion of me." 
 
 Charlotte and Rosabel had hitherto enjoyed 
 as few opportunities of good society, or of form- 
 ing any acquaintance with the world, as they 
 had of improving their minds, or of cultivating 
 their tastes. The circle proper for them to 
 visit in the neighbourhood, was, according to 
 the Waldegrave code, extremely limited ; and 
 the circumstances to be taken into account, in 
 forming that circle, were station and family 
 connection entirely : education, character, man- 
 ners, acquirements, were not to be put in the 
 balance. The number of a man's acres was 
 of far more importance than the number of his 
 virtues. It is natural to expect that all old 
 possessors of the soil, mingling, as they usually 
 do, in the same class, should have notions of 
 this sort ; nor are these notions and distinc- 
 tions entirely to be deprecated, whilst they pre- 
 serve them from degrading marriages, or from 
 low associates. It is only the illiterate and the
 
 61 
 
 narrow-minded who carry them to an absurd 
 extent ; the cultivated and the benevolent know 
 how to discriminate : and, in the present day, 
 there is a generous deference, on the part of 
 rank, to talent, and to merit of all kinds, which 
 has obliterated the invidiousness of distinctions, 
 and which must benefit all ranks. But this 
 would have been quite incomprehensible to 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, whose mind, if she had any 
 mind, consisted in a series of prejudices, which 
 she called reasons. 
 
 The war had robbed the country of most of 
 its young men ; and boys, of too tender age to 
 take an active part in the world, or elderly 
 gentlemen, constituted the bulk of male society. 
 In the shooting season, however, there was 
 generally an influx of visitants ; some of them 
 young men, who passed a week or two at Hales 
 Hall, as their fathers or uncles had done before 
 them. It was upon these expected arrivals, and 
 upon another event, which was indeed an event, 
 as Mrs. Waldegrave said, that the two affec- 
 tionate aunts, whose partialities for their elder 
 niece amounted to a sort of domestic party 
 spirit, expatiated, in secret conference, one Sep- 
 tember morning:.
 
 62 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Many are the sayings of the wise, 
 Extolling patience as the truest fortitude, 
 And to the bearing well of all calamities." 
 
 Miltox. 
 
 " You know, sister, that the Captain is come 
 back, and Ash brook House all astir ; the old 
 gentleman's death has brought him back, upon 
 leave of absence : but he was not in time to 
 see his father, who had lived at Bath for years." 
 
 Thus spoke Aunt Alice, as she turned out a 
 large bundle of patch-work, from time imme- 
 morial her occupation ; one of those intermi- 
 nable pieces of work which never seem to grow 
 any larger. 
 
 " Well — and how long is the Captain to 
 stay ? He likes Ashbrook ; his father never 
 did. He will be thinking of marriage now — 
 the heir of Medlicote — it is quite a duty." 
 
 Mrs. Waldegrave had just wound up half a 
 year's accounts as she spoke ; for she had acted.
 
 63 
 
 in that respect, as her own, or rather as Sir 
 John's, housekeeper, since her accession to 
 office. She looked at the sum total — an un- 
 pleasant prospect sometimes. " Sir John's 
 expenses are very great," she said, with a 
 sigh — " and all these children to be suitably 
 provided for!" 
 
 " Oh, Charlotte is certain to marry," ob- 
 served Aunt Alice, stitching away. 
 
 " Probably — only men are frightened at large 
 families. Captain Ashbrook, for instance, 
 might not like to marry the whole family. 
 And then Rosabel puts herself so forward." — 
 She glanced again at the accounts. " What a 
 sum for haberdashery, and tailory! — and to 
 think that these girls must, and ought to be, 
 presented when they go to London : Miss For- 
 tescue at any rate. She would be the first of the 
 Fortescues who had not been — if she is not." 
 
 " The barley-corn satins are coming in," 
 resumed Aunt Alice, working away. 
 
 "And then ! at my brother's death, if the 
 family consequence is to be kept up, the younger 
 brothers and sisters must all be beggars !" 
 
 " And if it comes to that," said Aunt Alice, 
 " they will never marry. I might, as you
 
 64 
 
 know, sister, have been settled in life over and 
 over again, if — " 
 
 " Yes !" answered Mrs. Waldegrave, sharply, 
 " that's an old story I" For she was aware of 
 certain, never-dying, feminine weaknesses, on 
 the subject of marriage, clinging to her sister's 
 character, like parasitic plants to ancient 
 stems ; and the story of the Hon. Mr. B. who 
 had been " off," as it is called, because he and 
 Aunt Alice could not make up five hundred a 
 year between them, was indeed, to her, an old 
 story. 
 
 " He will never think of Rosabel ; but Char- 
 lotte he might," she went on saying to herself. 
 — " Even shoe-leather — what a sum for that ! — 
 and the mending is as much as the making!" 
 
 " Well, I hope he will not chuse Rosabel, if 
 he does think of marrying," dropped from Aunt 
 Alice's lips by way of soliloquy. 
 
 Independent of dislike to the one, and par- 
 tiality to the other, the point of seniority was 
 a fixed principle in Mrs. Waldegrave's mind. 
 
 " Xo one will think of Miss Rosabel, while 
 Miss Fortescue is in the way," she said, sternly. 
 
 " Yet Lady Lovaine, sister — and you know 
 her to be a judge — Lady Lovaine said, loud
 
 65 
 
 enough for Rosabel to hear — and the girl is 
 already vain enough — ' Rosabel will throw her 
 elder sister into the shade.' I declare it made 
 me quite ill to hear her say so — so different as 
 it used to be between you and me, Penelope." 
 
 " My Lady has her whims, though a very 
 extraordinary, superior woman." 
 
 " An extremely clever woman," returned 
 Aunt Alice. " Poor dear Mr. Beaufort ! not- 
 withstanding his disappointment — for he would 
 have it she broke it all off! — would allow it was 
 for the best! — Heigho!" 
 
 " Younger brothers ought not to think of 
 marriage, except with heiresses, Alice." 
 
 " — And now, indeed, he cannot," returned 
 Aunt Alice, mournfully ; " for he's speechless 
 — his right side went first — it is the third stroke, 
 Lady Lovaine says — the very first news she 
 told me yesterday. — Dear me !" 
 
 " How very good of her ladyship to take such 
 an interest in him ! — But I am afraid, Alice, 
 she will think it very unkind in us — (just see! 
 the very article of pins — hairpins, minikins, and 
 knitting pins — they may well talk of pin-money!) 
 — that very item is frightful. She will think it 
 so very inattentive in us to be so long in paying
 
 66 
 
 our respects, after the illness of poor my Lord. 
 Rosabel has often wished to see their place ; 
 and I can propose it to her as a little treat, and 
 reward for her better behaviour : — and it may 
 be managed to leave her and Howard at Dray- 
 field, in our way back, for a time ; Mrs. Rivers 
 will look well after her there ; and Howard 
 wants change of air." 
 
 " Very true, sister, — you're always so sen- 
 sible." 
 
 " And if my brother can be brought to think 
 it best for Rosa to stay awhile, Captain Ash- 
 brook will have time to get acquainted with 
 Charlotte. It is, to be sure," added the widow, 
 in a canting, croaking voice, " quite a trial to 
 have my brother's family as a charge ! — but our 
 own little means, my poor jointure, will be 
 none the worse for our giving up housekeeping 
 for a time." 
 
 " But my brother means, I consider, that 
 Charlotte, in another year, should — " 
 
 " Yes, Alice, you are mighty slow — if Miss 
 Fortescue should marry, Rosabel will be sadly 
 too young, too giddy, too childish, to take charge 
 of the family: my brother knows that. He will 
 not put Miss Rosa at the head of affairs for
 
 these five years. Never! to have the order- 
 ing of a set of extravagant, idle, good-for- 
 nothing servants ; and she, forsooth, as idle, 
 and, if she could, would be as extravagant as 
 themselves." 
 
 " Surely Captain Ashbrook will see the ne- 
 cessity for his marrying," returned Aunt Alice, 
 catching up the train of her sister's ideas, " the 
 property to go away from him to his cousin ! 
 and I suppose he has had enough of fighting 
 by this time." 
 
 " I suppose so, too," answered Mrs. Walde- 
 grave, petulantly, taking a last look at her ac- 
 counts — " four and two are six, and ten make 
 sixteen, for ribbons only — Bonlets rouge, Ves~ 
 tris* bleu — so, Miss Rosa must have her ruffles 
 pinked too — what is the age come too ! — We 
 will keep her at Drayfield, with her top-knot of 
 bright red, forsooth, till he has seen Charlotte." 
 
 This arrangement was accelerated by an oc- 
 currence, which happened in a more convenient 
 season than such occurrences usually happen. 
 Howard, the youngest of the family, a delicate 
 child, and consequently an object of peculiar 
 affection to his father, was seized with what 
 was then termed a milliary fever ; upon the
 
 68 
 
 subsiding of which complaint, change of air 
 was decidedly prescribed for him. Drayfield, 
 the Siberia of Mrs. Waldegrave's imagina- 
 tion, was formerly the seat of the Fortescue 
 family ; and, when the family was more opu- 
 lent and less numerous, had been usually 
 appropriated to the residence of the eldest 
 son, if perchance he married, and required a 
 separate establishment previous to his father's 
 death. Of late years, it had, however, been 
 found convenient to let a portion of the house, 
 and to convert it into a farm ; reserving, never- 
 theless, a few rooms for the use of the family at 
 the Hall, to serve as a kind of infirmary to 
 recover from, or as a change of abode to avoid 
 those contagious diseases then so frequently 
 fatal ; and of which our grandfathers and 
 grandmothers were, with so much reason, 
 afraid. Drayfield had served as a nursery for 
 the young Fortescues at various times, when 
 Lady Fortescue had been ill, or confined ; and, 
 before the amelioration in Rosabel's condition, 
 it had been Mrs. Waldegrave's custom to 
 threaten her with being sent there as a kind 
 of disgraceful banishment from the con, forts 
 of home, and from the undervalued privilege
 
 69 
 
 of her own society, and that of her aunt. Ro- 
 sabel had, however, a predilection, rather than 
 a distaste for Drayfield, with which some of 
 her earliest associations were connected ; and, 
 at another time, she would have hailed as an 
 emancipation from severer restraint, the pros- 
 pect of a week or two there ; but, just 
 now, new pleasures were opened to her at 
 Hales Hall ; — her brothers were coming home, 
 and there was going to be a ball at the nearest 
 market town, at which Charlotte was to be 
 introduced ; and Rosabel was not without her 
 secret hopes that Sir John, being one of the 
 stewards, might take it into his head that she 
 should also partake of that amusement. More- 
 over, Captain Ashbrook had returned. At 
 any rate, a large party was to assemble at the 
 Hall to dine, and to set off from thence to the 
 ball. Under these circumstances, poor Rosabel 
 coloured with vexation, and was, perhaps, as- 
 sailed by some less excusable feeling, when 
 Mrs. Waldegrave coldly informed her that 
 Howard and his nurse were ordered to go to 
 Drayfield, and that Sir John wished her to ac- 
 company them, to prevent Howard from being
 
 dull, away from his brothers and sisters ; es- 
 pecially as she was his favourite sister. 
 
 " But," added Mrs. Waldegrave, without 
 pausing, lest there should be time for rebellion, 
 " to shew you how very indulgent we are to 
 you, I have obtained Sir John's permission to 
 let you stay here till to-morrow, that I may 
 take you to see my own near connection, Lady 
 Lovaine, and Medlicote ; I know, Rosa, you 
 have long wished to see that place, and I have no 
 objection to a little indulgence now and then." 
 
 " It is only now and then," thought Rosa, as 
 she retreated into her own room, to conceal or 
 to vent her vexation : but she remembered her 
 father — she thought of his wishes for peace — 
 the consideration which he had evinced, in the 
 conversation which she had overheard, for her 
 real welfare. She felt her pride piqued, to evince 
 that she was better than he had thought her. 
 
 " My father shall not find Rosabel so wilful, so 
 hopeless a character as he has judged me. Xow 
 I am put to the proof, I will shew him that I 
 can submit, for his sake. As for my aunts, I 
 would not stir an inch on the road towards Dray- 
 field for them, were thev not my father's sisters."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The rich and great are understood 
 
 To be, of course, both wise and good." 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 In all her little troubles and contests with her 
 aunts, it was a source of irritation to Rosabel 
 that Charlotte never seemed to sympathize 
 with her. Charlotte's faculties seemed frost- 
 bound ; her feelings withered by the blighting 
 influence of her Aunt Waldegrave's ascen- 
 dancy over her mind ; her capacity was, in 
 fact, limited, and her feelings for any one, 
 except herself, were devoid of generous 
 warmth. It is one effect of early, and un- 
 limited, and indiscriminate indulgence, per- 
 haps its worst effect, to render the character 
 selfish. From childhood, before her mother's 
 death, Charlotte had studied, quietly and un- 
 remittingly, her own comfort and convenience: 
 she was a politician in small matters, and in
 
 72 
 
 the most unobtrusive manner ; and, with an 
 unconscious air, always secured her point. 
 From childhood she had possessed the art of 
 protecting her privileges, and of securing her 
 property from the incursions of her brothers ; 
 — no easy matter, for men are not born 
 chivalric ; and, from the cradle, girls must 
 yield. — In all sisterly contentions Rosabel 
 was always defeated, and generally with 
 loss of character ; whilst Charlotte could pre- 
 serve her own temper, unruffled, like those 
 northern seas which are always frozen. Her 
 calmness and forbearance were, therefore, 
 ever the theme of praise ; and were pro- 
 portionally the more provoking, and afforded 
 a greater contrast between her and Rosabel, 
 for Mrs. Waldegrave to expatiate upon. With- 
 out entering into a comparison between the 
 characters of the two sisters, it may be ob- 
 served that they stood upon very unequal 
 grounds with respect to their mutual affection. 
 Rosabel's nature was all prone to love, and 
 wanted only an object to bestow that love upon : 
 indulgence had made her violent, not cold ; as 
 it was, she doated upon Charlotte, though her 
 sisterly regard was perpetually chilled by
 
 73 
 
 Charlotte's almost invariable desertion of her 
 cause, when any contest arose between her and 
 her aunts : yet Rosabel w T as unwilling to be- 
 lieve that a selfish caution had any part in this 
 heartless abandonment of her interests and 
 comforts, and, both to others and to herself, 
 attempted to defend Charlotte's conduct, as 
 long as she could blind herself, or others, to its 
 real cause. 
 
 She knew, however, from Charlotte's wonted 
 prudence, that it would be in vain to urge 
 her to intercede with her aunts with regard 
 to her not going to Dray field ; and therefore 
 prepared, not without some girlish tears, for the 
 seclusion of the Farm ; consoling herself with 
 the reflection that Howard would be happier 
 for her presence ; and, perhaps, comforted by 
 the idea — so grateful to affectionate natures — 
 that there was even one human being who loved 
 her better than he did any one else. Too 
 proud to show her mortification, and resolved 
 to conduct herself to her father's approbation, 
 she therefore, for once, possessed her soul in 
 patience. A gleam of pleasure was, however, 
 afforded her by the prospect of seeing Medli- 
 cote Hall, an ancient structure, and its mistress, 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 
 
 Lady Lovaine, as great a curiosity as any of the 
 antiques which the old Hall contained. Rosa- 
 bel had only once had a glimpse of her, as she 
 was flying down stairs, in a scarlet riding habit; 
 and, at that single interview, had had the mis- 
 fortune to ofTend her ladyship, who was some- 
 what of a gaunt and masculine figure, by mistak- 
 ing her for Hubert, who had just returned from 
 hunting. It was in vain that she had humbly 
 apologized, and declared that, had she seen her 
 ladyship's face (for she was behind her), she 
 would not have made the mistake. This expla- 
 nation had not, however, been able to save Rosa- 
 bel from a lecture on manners, a subject with 
 which most young persons would gladly dispense. 
 Before eleven o'clock, on the day fixed, the 
 party set out. Charlotte was left behind, al- 
 though Mrs. Waldegrave made use of the 
 family coach, because it was necessary to re- 
 serve a place on the back seat for Vicky, the 
 beloved of Mrs. Waldegrave's heart, if she had 
 a heart, — one of those round-headed, flat-eared 
 little dogs, who live in a perpetual irritation, 
 and keep others so ; the politicians, I suppose, 
 of the canine community. The deep-set, bright, 
 dark eves of Vicky seemed well to reflect the
 
 75 
 
 harshness of his mistress's expression of coun- 
 tenance ; they were congenial souls; his bark 
 was often responsive to her notes of anger ; 
 and, like her, he seemed ever on the watch for 
 something to censure, and to quarrel with. 
 
 Drayfield was seven miles from Hales Hall, 
 and Medlicote twelve miles distant ; both in 
 the same direction. The road was uninterest- 
 ing, but as rough and rutty as if it had been 
 meandering over scenes of romantic beauty 
 and variety. The day, for August, was cold 
 and blowy. 
 
 " Vicky does not like it," observed Miss 
 Alice ; " 'tis too cold for him." 
 
 " Vicky, pet, sit down — there, be quiet," said 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, as if she were speaking to a 
 favourite child. "Rosabel," she added, in a 
 tone of voice totally different, " you will re- 
 member, if you please, that Lady Lovaine is a 
 woman of rank, and highly bred up, and cannot 
 suffer that people of her ladyship's station and 
 our own should mingle with their inferiors. 
 You will say nothing about being acquainted 
 with the Warners." 
 
 " Is she likely to ask me ?" enquired Rosa- 
 bel. 
 
 E 2
 
 76 
 
 "She! indeed! — Yes! my Lady Lovaine 
 has her peculiarities, and there is no knowing 
 what questions she may chuse to ask. — (Vicky, 
 darling pet, be quiet now ; you must not put 
 your pretty nose out of the window ; you'll 
 catch cold, love.) — She's the head of my hus- 
 band's family, and the family of Lovaine has 
 never had a blot upon its escutcheon as yet." 
 
 " I almost wish it had," said Rosabel, as if 
 involuntarily. " I thought there was a some- 
 thing." 
 
 " — ' Wish it had,' child ! why ?" 
 
 " Because— I don't suppose it is right — 1 
 feel such an interest in those families that are 
 some how or other related to our English 
 Kings. The Plantagenets, for instance, or 
 even Charles the Second ; and I thought that 
 those relationships never happened, some how 
 or other, without a — blot — or a stain — or a 
 something wrong — or a — ; and I thought Lord 
 Lovaine some how or other had been related — 
 his ancestors, I mean — to Charles the Second." 
 
 " Oh!" said Mrs. Waldegrave, " such a cir- 
 cumstance as that is not a stain, or a blot at 
 all ; but a very great honour. To be related 
 to the Plantagenets, or Tudors, or Stuarts,
 
 77 
 
 any way, is a very great distinction. Unluckily, 
 there are but few Tudor descendants. You 
 ought to know more of history than I do ; but 
 there was only one well-authenticated Tudor 
 peerage, I believe. — No ; that would not be a 
 blot at all. It would be a terrible stain to have 
 had an ancestor a mercer, or a grocer, for in- 
 stance — to have to put a strip of leather across 
 one's armorial bearings, like your friends the 
 Warners. I have heard say his grandfather 
 was a currier : now I do call that a blot, and a 
 very foul one ; even dealing in wash-leather 
 would not carry it off," she concluded, with a 
 smile so sneering and bitter, that Aunt Alice 
 re-echoed it in her weak way ; and Vicky, ever 
 attentive, thought something was going on, and 
 gave a start, and a short bark. But Rosabel, 
 though prone to laugh, was mute and thought- 
 ful. 
 
 By this time they had reached the gates of 
 Medlicote Park, a place looked upon with 
 great reverence by Mrs. Waldegrave and Aunt 
 Alice. Like all narrow-minded persons, Mrs. 
 Waldegrave had her worldly idols, her stand- 
 ards of importance and elevation, the monu- 
 ments of greatness, to which she repaired in
 
 78 
 
 the humble character of a worshipper. Like 
 most arrogant and domineering persons, she 
 was capable of a mean-spirited servility to the 
 great and powerful, and of an abject depend- 
 ance upon their notice and good opinion for her 
 own happiness. Before she married, every 
 thought was centered in the head of her own 
 family ; it was " my brother," and " my sister 
 Fortescue," continually. The shadow of their 
 importance sheltered, without obscuring, her. 
 After her marriage with Mr. Waldegrave, her 
 powers of veneration were directed to the heads 
 of his family. It was " my sister Lady Lo- 
 vaine," and " my Lord," who were her oracles 
 on all subjects, from the highest points of moral 
 importance, down to the curing of a sore throat. 
 Lady Lovaine was a woman who chose to 
 practise, or to affect, great eccentricities. In 
 common life, she would have been accounted 
 a very coarse, rude woman, who did not know- 
 how to behave ; but, being Lady Lovaine, her 
 singularities were regarded by her inferiors as 
 characteristics of a strong mind, superior mas- 
 culine understanding, powerful judgment, &c. 
 Like insane persons, she knew how to soften, 
 in society where her freedoms and peculiarities
 
 79 
 
 would not be submitted to, the strange and 
 harsh features of her accustomed deportment. 
 From the practice, however, of appearing 
 singular, she had, in process of time, really 
 become so, and " Lady Lovaine's way" was 
 a sort of proverbial phrase for every thing 
 that was disagreeable, eccentric, and overbear- 
 ing. 
 
 Lord Lovaine was far less offending, and, 
 by a long series of gout, and a natural 
 touch of imbecility, two things which his wife 
 hinted were hereditary in his family, was re- 
 duced nearly to the condition of a cypher ; like 
 most men of the same description, not being 
 wise enough or strong enough to take his own 
 part. He made, however, what is termed an 
 excellent husband ; a despotic government, not 
 under the Salique law, being completely esta- 
 blished at Medlicote, the splendid seat of Lord 
 Lovaine, and of his ancestors. 
 
 It was, indeed, a splendid place ; truly En- 
 glish ; at once imposing and comfortable. Ro- 
 sabel, as the carriage entered the Park, ex- 
 claimed that she had never seen such elms, 
 overarching the broad carriage road, and many
 
 80 
 
 of their branches propped with artificial metallic 
 aids, to sustain timber of such antique growth. 
 Beneath, as in a vista, were seen the numerous 
 anflered inhabitants of a scene at once sylvan 
 and magnificent ; and now, afar off, Lady Lo- 
 vaine herself appeared, directing the operations 
 of some workmen, who were employed in thin- 
 ning the timber. A turn in the road soon 
 brought her ladyship's visitants within a few 
 yards of the place where she stood ; but, though 
 it was evident that she saw them, she moved 
 neither feature nor limb to welcome them ; but 
 continued, with stentorian voice, haranguing 
 her " subordinates," as she usually called them. 
 She was dressed in a little riding hat, a drab 
 great coat with capes, not the famous Maccaroni 
 cut, invented by the reigning belle, Miss North, 
 but a far less elegant, and more antique article, 
 with a cravat, and large, masculine boots. This 
 was her usual undress costume, out of doors, 
 and was not, at that period, outrageously pe- 
 culiar ; but it was her figure, so gaunt, and 
 stiff, that gave it a ludicrous aspect, as she 
 stood, blown about by the wind. 
 
 " What," cried Rosabel, bursting into an
 
 81 
 
 irreverential laugh, " is that Lady Lovaine? 
 I really thought it was a figure set up to frighten 
 kites or crows." 
 
 " Rosa — my dear," exclaimed both her aunts 
 at once, " I am shocked — quite — " 
 
 But Lady Lovaine had, by this time, with 
 commanding strides, reached the carriage, and 
 ordering the coachman to stop, peeped in at the 
 carriage window, taking a complete survey be- 
 fore she addressed any one. 
 
 " So, you are here, are you ? and, Vicky, 
 you are here, I see. So! I expected what I 
 call a family inundation the moment I saw the 
 coach. I am glad you were not half an hour 
 sooner : I am so busy. Come, Miss Alice, do 
 get out and walk ; it is a sin to be driving for 
 young people on this fine day. You have a 
 niece there, I see : let us have her out 
 too." 
 
 Rosabel, who had no objection, was delighted 
 to jump out, and join her ladyship; but Miss 
 Alice, who was regularly set forth for a morn- 
 ing visit, remained where she was. 
 
 " So ! she is in full feather, I suppose ; 
 trigged out, I suppose, in her best Artois" said 
 Lady Lovaine, contemptuously. " Charming 
 
 E 3
 
 82 
 
 creature !" she added, in a lower tone. " But 
 you have clogs, or walking shoes, I suppose ? 
 not water-proof, I dare say. Now if you want 
 a recipe for making shoes water-proof, I can 
 give you one. Let me see — but I have it all 
 written down at home. It would be well for 
 you to use it, your family being rather given to 
 gadding about. Have you ever been at Medli- 
 cote before ?■ — Of course you are bound to 
 admire this entrance. Your Aunt Alice calls 
 it quite classical — ha, ha, ha ! it is Gothic, you 
 know. Look up ; do you see the portcullis ? 
 Now turn your head round, and tell me, do 
 you observe my improvements yonder?" 
 
 She pointed, whilst speaking, to a large bank, 
 covered with flowering shrubs, on which was 
 an ample terrace walk, the first of a series of 
 terraces, the highest of which was clothed with 
 shrubs, mantling until they amounted to a thick 
 and hanging wood. 
 
 " There, if you like to drown yourself," said 
 Lady Lovaine, pointing to a high spot in the 
 ascent, " is the spot where fair Lucy of Medli- 
 cote drowned herself, a hundred years ago, for 
 a mere trifle— a disappointment of the heart. 
 The girl must have been deranged, or a fool.
 
 83 
 
 She was a direct ancestor of my Lord's. Well, 
 come in, and have some luncheon : I suppose, 
 like all the rest of your family, you eat lun- 
 cheon — a very bad habit, and what I attribute 
 Mrs. Waldegrave's indigestion to." 
 
 As her ladyship spoke, she marched in, with- 
 out seeming to remember that there was any 
 one behind her ; crossed a hall, passed through 
 a billiard room, proceeded through several apart- 
 ments, and, opening a door, walked into a very 
 small, close, kind of study, where sat, on an easy 
 chair, with a cushion under each elbow, the 
 infirm, harmless nobleman, whose virtues 
 Rosabel had daily heard called up, ever since 
 she had come into close contact with Mrs. Wal- 
 degrave and Aunt Alice. 
 
 " Here, my lord — you are quite astounded — 
 why it is only something young and lively 
 from Mrs. Waldegrave's store-room. But 
 where are the two — old maids — I was going 
 to call them ? Oh, here they are. Well, girls, 
 how are you ? Begone, you wretch," she 
 added, kicking Vickey out of the room. 
 " There's no animal in nature to be endured, 
 except a monkey. If you saw my sweet Jacko, 
 Miss Rosabel, you would lose your heart di-
 
 84 
 
 rectly. Talking of hearts, there's Captain Ash- 
 brook somewhere about. If any one has a 
 heart that goes a begging, it would be as well 
 to bestow it upon him. Alice, have you quite 
 done with such matters ? You have ? Yes, 
 so I thought." 
 
 " Sir John quite well ?" said Lord Lovaine, 
 a shrivelled-looking old man, his face all nose, 
 and no cheeks, and with a frame so attenuated, 
 that one wondered on what inflammatory part 
 of it that fierce demon of voluptuousness, the 
 gout, could make its prey. 
 
 " Sir John, my lord, is quite as well, I con- 
 sider, as the season will permit. We have had 
 a good deal of ague about us, in the village, and 
 down at the lodges. It has been remarkably 
 trying this winter. Have you the ague at Med- 
 licote, my lord ?" 
 
 " Oh! the ague!" said Lady Lovaine; >' I 
 cure that directly. The snuff of a candle, 
 boiled in treacle — a specific, quite ; and a re- 
 markably cheap remedy." 
 
 " Dear me !" said Aunt Alice, as if a new 
 light had broken in upon her ; " So it is." 
 
 " My lady," said Lord Lovaine, with an effort 
 of speech which seemed like his last gasp, " is
 
 85 
 
 an excellent physician ; she prescribed for me 
 yesterday — a very powerful dose." 
 
 " A pound of garlic, boiled in strong, good 
 beef tea; to be taken at intervals — of two to 
 four hours. Those who take it once, never 
 have the gout again," said Lady Lovaine, im- 
 periously. 
 
 " What a nice thing for my brother," said 
 Mrs. Waldegrave : " remember, Alice." 
 
 " Try it yourself first, my good lady," said 
 Lord Lovaine. " I assure you," he added, in 
 a low voice, " 'tis most inflaming." 
 
 " Captain Ashbrook, my lady," interposed 
 the servant, who at this moment opened the 
 door. 
 
 " Well then, here is something more inflam- 
 ing," said Lady Lovaine. " Mrs. Waldegrave, 
 look well after your niece. Shew Captain 
 Ashbrook into the library. He has been wan- 
 dering about his old haunts, as he calls them, 
 all the morning, and is not, I dare say, fit to be 
 seen. Nevertheless, c'est un brave gargon. 
 Come, Alice ; come, Miss Rosalina. I am 
 glad they did not christen you Penelope— 1 
 hate classical names." 
 
 " My lord looks sadly, poor dear man," said
 
 SG 
 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, as the four ladies trudged 
 towards the library. 
 
 " Oh, I am happy to say he is really pulled 
 down a little, at last ; too full a habit by far — 
 quite a comfort to see him reduced — quite a 
 comfort, I assure you, Mrs. Waldegrave."
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 His years but youngs but his experience old, 
 His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe ; 
 
 and, in mind, 
 
 With all good grace to grace a gentleman.' ' 
 
 Shakspfare. 
 
 On any other occasion, Rosabel would have loi- 
 tered in the spacious rooms through which she 
 now passed, adorned with curious cabinets, and 
 with crystal vases, and Delft china, arranged 
 about them, and their walls hung with many an 
 antique portrait, or a favourite game piece, or 
 flower piece. At any other time Rosabel would 
 have deviated into the hall to gaze at the fa- 
 mous Henri Coutters, which hung there, de- 
 picting swans, whose plumage seemed to rise 
 and unfold in all the dignity and beauty of 
 nature. At any other moment Rosabel could 
 not have avoided running to the windows to 
 gaze out upon the lawns, deepened with stately 
 cedars, or embellished by the flowering boughs 
 of the lauristinus, not yet in all its pride of
 
 88 
 
 blossom, its dark foliage contrasting finely 
 with the soft green of the velvet sward. But 
 now she hastened on, coming indeed last 
 in the train, and almost treading on Aunt 
 Alice's high-heeled shoes, or catching her foot 
 in Mrs. Waldegrave's train. She fell back, 
 however — she could not resist it — to look at 
 some tapestry : she had never seen any before. 
 
 " Captain Ashbrook is a great acquisition 
 to the neighbourhood," observed Mrs. Walde- 
 grave to Lady Lovaine : taking the opportunity, 
 whilst Rosabel was out of hearing, to make her 
 remark. 
 
 " Yes ; especially to those who have daugh- 
 ters or nieces," replied Lady Lovaine ; walking, 
 according to her custom, very fast, and leaving 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, breathless, half behind her. 
 " Which of your young ladies do you intend 
 for him ? Your god-daughter, I suppose." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Fortescue," said Mrs. Walde- 
 grave, loftily, " has no occasion for any one to 
 look out for her ; she is sure to have numerous 
 proposals." 
 
 " The world, then, is altered since I was 
 young ; for it was not then the practice to offer 
 to young ladies, unless there were some tern})-
 
 89 
 
 tations besides mere prettiness or sweetness : 
 but, since Charlotte is likely to abound in 
 lovers, it will be as well to bestow Captain 
 Ashbrook upon Rosabel — fair Rosabella." 
 
 " Your Ladyship's opinion has always weight 
 with me," returned Mrs. Waldegrave, her 
 colour mounting into her face ; " but Rosabel 
 is a mere child ; we do not sanction such 
 notions in children of her age." 
 
 " Children of her age, sister Waldegrave, 
 will have such notions ; and the more you keep 
 them from male society," she added, stopping 
 still, and looking sternly in Mrs. Waldegrave's 
 face, " the more of these notions they will 
 have." 
 
 " Bless me, you astonish me!" said Miss 
 Alice, who just now joined her Ladyship and 
 Mrs. Waldegrave. 
 
 " I should never have thought of your Lady- 
 ship sanctioning such things," observed Mrs. 
 Waldegrave, sanctimoniously. 
 
 " That is Captain Ashbrook," said Lady 
 Lovaine, stopping short in one of the passage- 
 rooms. The colour came into Rosabel's face : 
 but, after all, it was only a picture — a boy in a 
 green velvet coat, with a dog beside him, stiff,
 
 90 
 
 and quaint, and set, like most of the portraits 
 of that day, yet, with a certain fire in his dark 
 eyes. 
 
 " Is it possible," said Rosabel, " can that be 
 like Captain Ashbrook ?" 
 
 " Judge for yourself," replied Lady Lovaine, 
 opening another door — " Ashbrook, why, for 
 shame ! — what self-indulgence ! a soldier, and 
 fatigued with a day's sport ! — here are Mrs. 
 Waldegrave and the Miss Fortescues, your 
 neighbours; not sisters, but aunt and niece:" 
 she added, with an expression of half malicious 
 pleasure ; for she had a cordial dislike to Mrs. 
 Waldegrave, an infinite contempt for Aunt 
 Alice ; who, having been the youngest of her 
 family, could never be persuaded to think her- 
 self old. 
 
 Captain Ashbrook sprang from the couch on 
 which he had thrown himself, being tired with 
 the morning's exercise, and turned towards the 
 ladies, thus introduced to him, a countenance 
 so animated and intelligent, that it would have 
 been difficult minutely to have criticised its 
 claims to regularity of feature. Yet, with- 
 out being able to bear that test, it was not a 
 countenance to disappoint the romantic par-
 
 91 
 
 tiality which Rosabel had encouraged for her 
 hitherto unknown friend. There was not 
 beauty enough to endanger a man's being a 
 coxcomb on that account ; there were no " chi- 
 selled, Antinous-like" features — no " polished 
 brow" — no " dark fringes that swept the cheek 
 by way of eye-lashes ;" — in all these attri- 
 butes of a hero of romance, Captain Ashbrook 
 was deficient. His complexion was a good deal 
 sun-burnt, and he looked older from that cir- 
 cumstance than he really was. His hair, which 
 was w T ell enough in its way, was atrociously 
 turned back from the forehead, and rigidly 
 trained into two regular curls, over each ear. 
 Moreover, its natural beauty of hue was en- 
 tirely obliterated by that infamous invention, 
 powder, already somewhat in the wane for 
 young ladies, but still used by gentlemen, and 
 by military men retained until a period which 
 we can all remember. Besides, to leave the 
 poor man no chance of looking like a natural 
 human being, it was clubbed, as they then called 
 it, behind ; that is to say, tied somewhat after the 
 fashion of a horse's tail, forming a sort of sequel 
 to the unhappiness of the ill-used, tortured heads 
 of those times.
 
 92 
 
 With all this, it was some merit to look well ; 
 yet Rosabel, from force of education, and not 
 having had the advantage of our modern taste, 
 thought it all very becoming. It was true, this 
 mode of dressing the hair shewed to full ad- 
 vantage the fine, manly, open brow of Captain 
 Ashbrook ; whilst the formal cut of a military 
 undress, which he wore, harmonized, if any 
 thing could harmonize, with the style of his hair. 
 But, after all, men owe little to the details of 
 personal appearance ; scarcely anything to fea- 
 ture, in the eyes of women of discernment, 
 but every thing to expression, manner, and in- 
 telligence. It was the good breeding of Cap- 
 tain Ashbrook, his animation and ease— the 
 superiority of mind, obvious, even in his casual 
 remarks — for in these, I think, it is sometimes 
 most obvious : the happy wit which he had of 
 enticing people, as it were, to converse ; not 
 plunging red-hot into discourse, as many do, 
 becoming soon breathless themselves, and 
 scarcely giving people time to assent. His evi- 
 dent wish not to shine outrageously himself, 
 as a star of the first magnitude, but to please 
 gracefully, and to draw forth the most agree- 
 able qualities which his companions possessed.
 
 93 
 
 It was all these attributes combined, with a cer- 
 tain easy gallantry to ladies, that formed the 
 basis of his success in gaining their admira- 
 tion ; and not his fine eyes, or Roman profile, 
 or handsome figure, or any of those adventi- 
 tious and unimportant circumstances. Captain 
 Ashbrook had a happy look, a beaming, kindly 
 eye ; when his face was serious, it was very 
 serious — deeply reflective — almost stern ; but, 
 in general, it had the expression of a refined 
 joyousness ; not a coarse, unthinking mirth, 
 but a gaiety, a gladness, which springs from 
 a proper appreciation and enjoyment of the 
 many delights of our daily existence. And, as 
 yet, though the tranquillity of his present lei- 
 sure hours was enhanced by the remembrance 
 of past toil and privations, his experience had 
 comprised no actual troubles, except the death 
 of his father, and that was palliated by circum- 
 stances — no real affliction or bitter disappoint- 
 ment ; few things to wound his self-love ; 
 nothing to sully his fame, or to threaten the 
 stability of his fortunes. 
 
 Rosabel trembled, as, according to orders, 
 she sat down on the very next seat to him, and 
 thought she was dreaming.
 
 94 
 
 Lady Lovaine, though not inhospitable at 
 other meals, disapproved of luncheons, and 
 therefore sat apart, looking on chillingly at the 
 good appetites of her guests. 
 
 " Ashbrook, do you attend to my Cousin 
 Waldegrave, if you please. Rivers, see that 
 my Lord's panada is taken into the study di- 
 rectly. Miss Rosa, are you actually hungry ? 
 — and when you have all finished," she re- 
 sumed, after allowing a very brief time for the 
 repast, " Captain Ashbrook will shew the fair 
 Rosabella the picture gallery." 
 
 " My horses are rested, 1 believe," said Mrs. 
 Waldegrave, endeavouring to look placid. 
 
 " Very well ; they can wait, I suppose ; it 
 will do them no harm to stand, or they can go 
 round again to the stables. Captain Ashbrook, 
 you know T the way — but I think if you were to 
 take Miss Rosa a turn on the terrace first, it 
 would do you both good: — Aunt Alice, what 
 are you stirring for ? they don't want you — 
 well, do not stay above an hour at any rate, 
 young people," added her Ladyship. " Shew 
 Miss Rosa my improvements, Ashbrook — the 
 new alcoves and the fuchias." 
 " Her ways are inexplicable !" said Mrs.
 
 95 
 
 Waldegrave to herself, as Rosabel and Captain 
 Ashbrook closed the door after them. 
 
 " Captain Ashbrook is, as you remark," re- 
 sumed Lady Lovaine, a great acquisition to the 
 neighbourhood. I am quite happy to have an 
 opportunity of bringing him and your niece 
 together — there they are — look. Alice, look — 
 they walk too fast to be making love, I think — 
 but Rosabel is really a fine-looking girl — re- 
 markably like her mother's family." 
 
 " My niece Charlotte," observed Miss Alice, 
 timorously, " is allowed to be most of a lady ; 
 so very well-conducted and quiet." 
 
 " Very likely; but I don't like quiet girls, 
 I would as soon have Jacko without his tricks : 
 quiet girls are like still waters, always the 
 deepest. Mrs. Waldegrave, I think you were 
 to have the recipe for my famous tic doulou- 
 reux plaister ; I cannot give you the recipe, it 
 is a profound secret ; but, if you will come with 
 me to my Lord's room, I will hunt for some of 
 the plaister for you." 
 
 She gave a parting look at the young pair. 
 " There they are — they seem to tly now ! — what 
 spirits your niece has ! you should bring her 
 forward ; she will be a credit to the family."
 
 96 
 
 Meantime, Captain Ashbrook and bis fair 
 companion proceeded leisurely through the 
 most frequented walks of the pleasure-grounds 
 around Medlicote Hall, resting everv now and 
 then to admire the views, or to expatiate upon 
 the characteristics of the scenery. Rosabel, 
 accustomed to exercise, and therefore enjoying 
 it, would have derived pleasure from the walk 
 with any species of companion, or with none 
 at all : perhaps she might actually have en- 
 joyed her walk more without the society of 
 Captain Ash brook, whose presence she could 
 not help regarding with some awe. She re- 
 membered that he had witnessed her early 
 transgression ; but, though she remembered it, 
 it had, nevertheless, almost escaped Captain 
 Ashbrook's remembrance. At first, when he 
 saw her, a sort of vague recollection, an indis- 
 tinct notion, came across him of some peculiar 
 incident in which he had taken a part having 
 attached to one of the Miss Fortescues ; and he 
 presently remembered the whole history. But 
 two years of actual service had quite effaced 
 the young lady's name and person from his me- 
 mory, and he began to wonder whether this 
 was the same Miss Fortcscue that had a taste
 
 for adventures. He regarded her, therefore, 
 with considerable attention, was on the look out 
 for eccentricity and flippancy, studied well the 
 expression of her features, and ended by con- 
 cluding that she was too subdued, and innocent- 
 looking, too timid, and must be still too young, 
 to have engaged two years ago in such a frolic. 
 He thought himself remarkably fortunate, 
 however, to escape from three elderly ladies, 
 each endowed with some unpleasing peculia- 
 rity, with a fine, artless, and happy-looking 
 girl, who bounded along to his heart's content, 
 and whose very speed and elasticity were re- 
 freshing after the hobbling pace of Lord Lo- 
 vaine, when he could crawl out, or Lady Lo- 
 vaine's deviating and capricious ways, now 
 quick, now slow, and incessantly stopping or 
 running off. After all, thought Captain Ash- 
 brook, as, standing by Rosabel, he caught a 
 view of her glowing face, " there is nothing like 
 youth in woman — especially after those three 
 parchment, dried-up faces — I beg their pardons 
 — excellent women, no doubt — but not to 
 look at." 
 
 "Well," thought Rosabel, in her turn, " I had 
 no idea gentlemen were so easy to talk to ; — 1 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 
 
 am sure I shall never be able to endure Mr. 
 Henry Warner again ; — there is something so 
 very different — though I can scarcely tell what 
 it is — I wonder whether he goes to the ball." 
 
 " You are serious," said Captain Ashbrook, 
 smiling — " Perhaps you are not aware that you 
 are quite out of sight of your aunts." 
 
 " What can he mean ?" thought Rosabel ; 
 " now he is referring to former times ; it is too 
 bad." 
 
 " I hope we shall have a good ball at Che- 
 verton next week," resumed Captain Ashbrook ; 
 " do you think we shall ?" 
 
 " I really do not know — I cannot tell — but I 
 dare say — there is a moon, I believe — that is a 
 great point." 
 
 " Oh ! certainly ; but the moon will not do 
 everything. Do you like minuets ? For my 
 part, I have led such a rambling life of late, I 
 am not competent to a minuet." 
 
 "Nor I either," answered Rosabel, discon- 
 solately ; " but I do enjoy a country dance. 
 My sister Charlotte will be there ; but I am 
 thought too young." 
 
 Captain Ashbrook was all disappointment 
 and gallantry, and said, of course, a great deal
 
 99 
 
 more on the occasion than he would have done 
 to Mrs. Waldegrave or to Aunt Alice ; and 
 Rosabel began to be very happy indeed. She 
 knew not how it was, but she had never found 
 the breeze so refreshing, nor seen the tints so 
 fine ; they fell with such delicacy, and, to speak 
 figuratively, so discriminatingly, upon the 
 early-fading trees. 
 
 Captain Ashbrook felt more enthusiastic than 
 usual as to the beauties of the place, which, in 
 general, he commended not; for Lady Lovaine's 
 improvements, as she called them, were not to 
 his taste. The words " lovely, charming, de- 
 lightful," came, he knew not how, very readily 
 to his lips ; he began to think he had done his 
 Aunt injustice, and that some of her plantations 
 looked well in certain aspects — that the lake 
 was not positively frightful, and that he would 
 not altogether pull down the new wing of the 
 house, which, the day before, he had, in his 
 own mind, condemned. Nature, this day, to 
 this gay couple, had been in her very best 
 garb. 
 
 F 2
 
 100 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Liberal Nature 
 
 What to beauteous woman kind, 
 
 What arms, what armour has she assign'd ? 
 
 Beauty is both. 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 Captain Ashbrook and Rosabel had set off on 
 their walk at a scrupulous distance from each 
 other; he respectfully handing her over any 
 obstacle that occurred, but not presuming to 
 offer her his arm. As they returned, however, 
 descending terrace after terrace, they found 
 themselves on much more sociable terms than 
 when they had set out. They trotted down, 
 very gaily, till, as they came to the last set of 
 steps, Captain Ashbrook said, " You will want 
 assistance here, I think ; will you allow me to 
 offer you my arm." 
 
 Now Rosabel was seldom in want of assist- 
 ance upon any occasion of this sort ; her com- 
 panionship with her brother Hubert having 
 taught her at any rate the art of jumping over 
 stile?, clearing fences, and such like ; however, 
 she took the Captain's arm.
 
 101 
 
 It was in this guise they walked up to the 
 carriage where Mrs. Waldegrave was seated, 
 and whither she summoned her niece by a ser- 
 vant. Lady Lovaine, who was, to use her own 
 phrase, in and out all day, met them at the hall 
 door. 
 
 " I have been unable to comply with your 
 commands, my lady," said Captain Ashbrook. 
 — " Miss Fortescue is hurried away : she has 
 seen scarcely anything." 
 
 "Not much hurried, considering that you 
 have been just an hour and a half in the 
 grounds," answered her ladyship. " But, as 
 the park is not going to run away, you can 
 make out your appointment with Captain Ash- 
 brook some other day, Miss Rosabel ; and then 
 he can shew you the decoy." 
 
 She raised her voice with malicious intent, 
 and the design took effect ; for at the words 
 " appointment" and " decoy," immediately two 
 heads were popped out of the carriage window. 
 
 Lady Lovaine, who hated Mrs. Waldegrave, 
 as sisters-in-law can hate sisters-in-law, and 
 who could not be troubled with Miss Alice, 
 took an especial pleasure in defeating any of 
 their schemes.
 
 102 
 
 " Your niece," she said, putting in her head 
 at the window, " can come some other morn- 
 ing to see the pictures, and the petrifying well 
 on the terrace, and the decoy. They have 
 found so much to say to each other between the 
 yew hedges, that there is not time now." 
 
 " Charlotte shall have that honour, it will be 
 her turn," said Mrs. Waldegrave. " Rosa, 
 you are keeping her ladyship standing." 
 
 " Besides," said Rosabel, just as she was 
 stepping into the carriage, " I shall be at Dray- 
 field." 
 
 " Drayfield? Well, that is only four miles 
 off. Captain Ashbrook can drive the phaeton 
 over for you, as he is here six days out of the 
 seven. Good morning, Penelope; I hope you 
 will enjoy your drive home. I like your niece 
 vastly. We must all go to this ball, I suppose, 
 next week. Keep your windows up," she 
 screamed, as the carriage drove off — " don't 
 allow a thorough air." 
 
 The carriage drove off without her ladyship's 
 being able to catch the sounds of Mrs. Wal de- 
 grave's reply; and she had therefore not the 
 additional gratification of some fresh source of 
 abuse of her sister-in-law, which she would
 
 103 
 
 have derived from the intelligence that Rosabel 
 was not yet to be allowed to share in the ap- 
 proaching gaieties. Mrs. Waldegrave left 
 Medlicote by no means in high good humour. 
 Aunt Alice was tired, Vicky was cold, and 
 Rosabel could only console herself for angry 
 looks with the reflection that Drayfield was 
 only four miles off from Medlicote. She did 
 not, however, attain the end of her journey 
 without a stern reproof from Mrs. Waldegrave 
 for having mentioned to Lady Lovaine the 
 place of her destination. 
 
 " How she could suppose it would interest 
 her ladyship to know what she did, or where 
 she went ; or how she could have the courage 
 to speak out as she did before mere strangers ? 
 — She was sure Lady Lovaine must think she 
 had been brought up in a very extraordinary 
 style." 
 
 An arrogant reply would, at an earlier pe- 
 riod, have arisen to Rosabel's lips; but she had 
 learned to check the useless and irritating re- 
 sponse in which, in former days, she had in- 
 dulged her girlish propensity to impertinence ; 
 and, recollecting that the moment of her sepa- 
 ration from her aunts was at hand, she preserved
 
 104 
 
 a calmness of demeanour which, as Mrs. Wal- 
 degrave soon afterwards assured her, was far 
 more insulting than words. 
 
 At length the carriage turned away from the 
 main road, and drove down a narrow, seques- 
 tered lane, thickly hedged in with the maple, 
 now reddened by the advance of autumn, and 
 the nut-tree, whose yellow leaves carpeted the 
 path-way. Drayfield, with its blue smoke as- 
 cending through the trees, soon appeared in 
 view. It was a substantial stone house, of some 
 antiquity, and so far of a respectable appear- 
 ance that an adjacent farm-yard, with large 
 modern barns, and cow-sheds, appeared, as 
 they really were, an inconsistent appendage to 
 its former dignity as the residence of a private 
 gentleman. To the right were the old-fashioned 
 stables, as lofty as the house, and built to 
 correspond, with pointed gable ends, a fane 
 upon the cupola top, and a clock, which was 
 now mute and out of repair, upon its front. 
 The approach led over a field which still had 
 the character of a lawn, though one or two cart- 
 horses, and a calf or two, were grazing on it. 
 The garden had the remains of by-gone orna- 
 ment, on the relics of which the hand of utility
 
 105 
 
 had stamped its progress. The grass was 
 smooth-shaven near the house ; but a plot of 
 potatoe-ground, between its more comely por- 
 tion and the field, disfigured, and, as Mrs. 
 Waldegrave said, vulgarized it. The hill to 
 the right behind the house had been framed, in 
 former times, into terraces, to a certain height, 
 and a portly summer-house, heptangular and 
 with a point, and mounted so high upon its 
 stone basements that it seemed to command 
 the hill itself, was still allowed to retain its use, 
 or its no use. But beneath, by a little skirting 
 shrubbery, and on a grass-plot whereon the de- 
 licate Euominus cast, at this period of the year, 
 its shell-like calyxes, and contrasting with the 
 red stems of the Service-tree, clothes were 
 hanging out to dry, and clothes not either of a 
 creditable description, but elaborate smock- 
 frocks, blue aprons, cheese-cloths, and house- 
 cloths, and all the family of dusters flying 
 about in the gale. Rosabel, however, never 
 thought that Drayfield could have been so wel- 
 come to her as it was at this moment. She 
 quitted the carriage without one pang, emanci- 
 pated from angry looks and lectures, and, curt- 
 sying to both her aunts, and sending her duti- 
 
 F 3
 
 106 
 
 ful love to her father, entered the retired abode 
 without even curiosity inducing her to stop to 
 hear the minute directions for her superinten- 
 dance which Mrs. Waldegrave was pouring 
 into the attentive ear of Mrs. Rivers. A blaz- 
 ing fire, although the season was still mild, had 
 been lighted to give an air of comfort to the 
 apartment intended for her use. It was a spa- 
 cious, square room, in the depths of which were 
 a horsehair-stuffed black settee, and a spinet, 
 three-cornered, more sonorous than harmoni- 
 ous. The walls, which shewed that the apart- 
 ment had formerly been appropriated to goodly 
 purposes, were hung with a handsome, old- 
 fashioned flock paper, of a dark purple flower, 
 and tobacco-coloured ground. Here and there 
 were old family pictures, such as had not been 
 deemed worthy of removing to the hall, when 
 Dravlield was converted into a farm-house or 
 Grange. An indifferent copy or two of some 
 of Sir John's ancestors, or the portraits of 
 sundry even of his honourable house, who had 
 disgraced themselves in any way, were still per- 
 mitted to hide themselves and their shame in 
 this now obscure abode. Rosabel recognized, 
 with a hasty glance, the semblance of her
 
 107 
 
 great-aunt Rosabel, to whom she had often 
 been compared in her delinquencies, and whose 
 fate Mrs. Waldegrave had assured her would 
 be hers, for she had disgraced herself by a 
 lowly marriage, and had died heart-broken. 
 Some ancient gentlemen, collateral branches, 
 the carmine of whose faces had long since faded 
 to a paleness ashy as their powdered toupees, 
 with the relief of a modern kitkat of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Rivers in their best suits — she in a flat- 
 crowned, fly-away hat, garnished out with blue 
 ribbons, he in his flaxen, curled wig, and single- 
 breasted, light drab coat— broke the long line 
 of wall ; whilst over the chimney-piece a large 
 mirror, the only defect of which was its opacity, 
 with gilded shells and cornucopias at the top, 
 revived the notion of former splendours, of 
 which it seemed to offer a dim reflection. 
 
 Howard, the sole companion of Rosabel in 
 her solitude, was playing by a table, looking 
 more infantile by contrast with the dark figures 
 of his ancestors around him. Rosabel hailed 
 the small, neat tea-service, on a round claw 
 table, so indicative of comfort and attention ; 
 and looked with pleasure upon the little silver 
 tea-canisters, the pride of Mrs. Rivers's heart.
 
 108 
 
 Here she was sole monarch, here at least she 
 was free, and she began to congratulate herself 
 upon her emancipation from perpetual trivial 
 restraints, and to wonder that she should ever 
 have felt reluctant to come to Dravfield.
 
 109 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 This morning, like the spirit of a youth 
 That means to be of note, begins betimes. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The ensuing day was bright and mild, and 
 Rosabel was awakened early by the busy, joy- 
 ous notes of the poultry under her windows, 
 the lowing of bullocks, the monotonous sound 
 of the flail in the threshing-barn, and the 
 equally monotonous call of the Guinea fowl on 
 the terrace slope. She arose and walked forth. 
 All nature seemed in unison with the harbingers 
 of the morning, whose triumphant expressions 
 of instinctive joy had disturbed her slumbers. 
 The gossamer, it is true, still silvered the hedge- 
 rows,and encompassed with its fairy veil even the 
 lowliest weed : the distant prospect was wrapt 
 in mist ; but on the grass enclosure, near the 
 house, the broad gleams of a steady and power- 
 ful sunshine had already dispersed the dew.
 
 no 
 
 Rosabel called Howard forth to accompany her, 
 and, passing through a wicket into a well-known 
 path, which led from the back of the house to 
 the hill behind, began to ascend the eminence. 
 As she raised her eyes to a clump of fir trees 
 at the summit, she admired the contrast of their 
 dark foliage with the unspeckled blue of the 
 firmament seen through their branches, and 
 above the slender sprays of their tasselled, 
 waving tops. 
 
 Rosabel's notions of religious gratitude were, 
 as yet, quite undefined: the habit of tracing 
 every enjoyment to the highest Source, had 
 never been cultivated in her mind by any 
 watchful care. She looked upon nature with 
 a pleasure rather instinctive, than intellectual. 
 The gladdening thought, that universal bene- 
 volence, as well as universal beauty, pervades 
 the universe, had not yet enhanced her enjoy- 
 ment of rural scenes. Yet, her young mind 
 being left to itself, it did occur to her. as she 
 looked around upon the deep repose of the 
 fields, that the hand of man had left indeed its 
 traces upon their cultivated enclosures, but that 
 some more powerful and still more pervading 
 spirit was also visible there.
 
 Ill 
 
 The acclivity which she presently ascended 
 commanded a distant glimpse both of Med- 
 licote Park, and of a turn in the road which 
 led down to Hales Hall. Rosabel reflected that 
 her earliest thoughts and tenderest affections 
 ought to be addressed to the home of her 
 father and of her brothers and sisters ; never- 
 theless she fixed her eyes with much solicitude 
 upon what appeared to be the grey chimney-tops 
 of Medlicote, rendered more distinct by the con- 
 trast of the yellow outline of the trees which 
 encompassed them. A new interest seemed 
 added to her existence : how, she knew not ; 
 but she was young and visionary, and had been 
 much secluded from intellectual intercourse, and 
 almost wholly debarred from kindly and gentle 
 communion with others. She felt, therefore, 
 an inordinate and unwarrantable degree of 
 gratitude to Lady Lovaine and Captain Ash- 
 brook for their passing attentions to her ; and 
 the idea that she was not so low in common es- 
 timation as she always had been assured, 
 and the hope of being able to make herself 
 agreeable to some one or other, inspired her, 
 for the first time, with the ambition to please, 
 and with a motive for rendering herself wor-
 
 112 
 
 thy of being liked. Whilst these reflections 
 passed through her mind, Howard, who had 
 made a little solitary excursion within the 
 limited paths of the wood, came back to 
 call her attention to certain moving objects 
 which had been quickly caught by the fleet 
 glance of infancy. They were a straggling 
 party of huntsmen, whose scarlet coats en- 
 hanced the rich hues of the woody glen through 
 which they rode, by a dazzling contrast. 
 
 "Look, Rosa, look," cried Howard ; "and 
 I must go down to the lane to see them near — 
 I dare say Mr. Rivers is among them." 
 
 Rosabel, however, endeavoured to stay 
 his impatience, by assuring him that the hunts- 
 men were probably only going to the place of 
 rendezvous, and that, when the sport was over, 
 they would perhaps, at least many of them, 
 be returning the same way in the afternoon ; 
 and a sense of propriety, which, like most young 
 persons of honourable mind, she felt more 
 strongly when left to her own guidance than 
 when others were responsible for her conduct, 
 prevented her from complying with Howard's 
 request to run down with him to the near 
 neighbourhood of the sportsmen : she waited
 
 113 
 
 until all were passed, before she again sought 
 the pathway which conducted them to the 
 Grange. 
 
 But, in the afternoon, circumstances did not 
 permit her to be so prudent. Howard, who had 
 not forgotten her assurance, and who was 
 wearied with having nothing to do, was watch- 
 ing to ensnare Rosabel to the gate which led 
 into the lane, by those childish pretexts which 
 the ingenuity of infancy knows well how to 
 urge. It was " Rosa, come here," and " Rosa, 
 go there ;" " Rosa, get me a whip from that 
 tree near the gate," or " Rosa, I want to see 
 the cows come from milking; — until, about 
 four o'clock, Rosabel was absolutely inveigled 
 into Howard's favourite position near the gate. 
 She was without either bonnet or shawl, and 
 was in the act of pulling a branch from a beech 
 tree, to please Howard, when a sound of horses' 
 feet behind her startled her. She turned, and 
 saw a party of gentlemen hunters riding leisurely 
 down the lane. Her glance at them was mo- 
 mentary ; but they, supposing that she could be 
 nobody but the farmer's pretty daughter, were 
 not sparing in their notice of her, or observa- 
 tions upon her. Rosabel felt the more confused
 
 114 
 
 at this little occurrence, that she was habituated 
 to the strict seclusion of her father's park, where 
 unbidden feet never entered ; and, taking 
 Howard by the hand, she walked towards the 
 house ; — but, in a few minutes, one of the horse- 
 men entered the gate, and rode after her. 
 
 " I am not then mistaken," said the intruder ; 
 and Rosabel, her face crimsoning as she turned 
 round, saw Captain Ashbrook. He stopped 
 his horse, and she stood still — both then looking 
 as if they knew not what to say. 
 
 As usual, the weather became a refuge for 
 those destitute of the small coin of ready talk. 
 
 " You are enjoying this fine afternoon — and 
 your brother too ;" — Captain Ashbrook glanced 
 around him as he spoke ; — «" I have often passed 
 this place," he said, " but did not know that Sir 
 John still kept it in his own hands." 
 
 "No," replied Rosabel, "he does not ; but 
 Mrs. Rivers, the bailiff's wife, has been accus- 
 tomed to take charge of us here, now and then, 
 ever since we were children : when there was 
 the small-pox at Hales, we were all sent here ; 
 and now, Howard having a fever, I" 
 
 " You are sent to nurse him," said Captain 
 Ashbrook, taking up the unfinished sentence.
 
 115 
 
 u But are you not rather dull here ? Is not 
 the seclusion more complete than is agreeable 
 at your age ?" 
 
 " Not more than at home ; you know I am 
 considered too young to enter into public amuse- 
 ments." 
 
 " But not too young to be alone here," 
 Captain Ashbrook was about to say, but he 
 checked himself. 
 
 " Drayfield is quite a home to me — a second 
 home — Mrs. Rivers is so kind, and I am so 
 accustomed to every nook and corner " 
 
 " You know each dingle and bosky dell, I 
 dare say ; and since you are fond of reading — 
 doubtless — pray can I bring you any additional 
 books from Medlicote : what do you like ?" 
 " Why, if you please, do not bring me any 
 thing very serious — nor yet any thing very, 
 very frivolous: — 1 have, for instance, with me 
 the Lady's Magazine," replied Rosabel. 
 
 " — Which is a positive affront to the female 
 understanding," said Captain i\shbrook ; " made 
 up, if I remember — for I have not seen it since 
 I came from America — of wretched tales, love 
 sonnets, and enigmas ; the King and Queen 
 described in conundrums. In one number, a
 
 116 
 
 letter from a lady requesting a cure for the 
 cramp ; in the next, her thanks for the re- 
 medy." — 
 
 " And ending," added Rosabel, "with little 
 songs, and patterns of work-bags and flounces. 
 I never was a great worker." 
 
 " Nor must 1 bring you either the Gentle- 
 man's Magazine — dry, close, fatiguing reading, 
 hideed ; all agreeable subjects abridged and 
 cut down in it, and those of a recondite nature 
 expatiated upon with a wordy minuteness — that 
 will not do. Will you trust me to explore the 
 Medlicote library, and to make a selection which 
 I think you will like ?" 
 
 Rosabel was only too happy to assent ; and 
 Captain Ashbrook, after lingering some ten 
 minutes longer, departed ; not without some 
 difficulty in regaining possession of his horse, 
 on which Howard had, during the conversation, 
 been mounted, and lead about ; and Rosabel 
 was left again to her solitude — a solitude en- 
 hanced by one of the pleasantest recollections 
 upon which her enthusiastic spirit had rested. 
 Circumstances had thrown her into a position 
 of almost intimate communication with one, 
 upon whom her youthful fancy had long rested
 
 117 
 
 with romantic interest. She remembered the 
 time when she should have thought herself 
 fortunate to have casually seen him at Hales 
 Hall ; she, perhaps, at the bottom of the table, 
 and he at the top. And now, yesterday to 
 have walked with him, to-day to have met him 
 again, seemed all a pleasant day-dream to her. 
 
 But Captain Ashbrook knew too well what 
 the misconstructions of the world might be, 
 and had too much innate delicacy and sense of 
 propriety, to repeat his visit to Rosabel in her 
 solitary situation. He took such means of 
 rendering that solitude less irksome to her as 
 his kind heart suggested, by interesting Lady 
 Lovaine in her favour. 
 
 " Just like them, i\shbrook," said Lady 
 Lovaine, when her nephew told her of his ren- 
 counter — "just like Mrs. Waldegrave — just 
 like that goose, Alice Fortescue. So ! they 
 want to keep this poor girl out of the way whilst 
 Miss Charlotte is put forward, forsooth, as a 
 marketable commodity. — Drayfield — the child 
 — a mighty good excuse ! The very worst 
 place in the world for a milliary fever— damp — 
 cold — low — " 
 
 "What a strange, unjust partiality! And
 
 118 
 
 to leave her in a farm-house at this season ! 
 when one knows farm-houses are never se- 
 cluded ; and so lovely a girl too !" 
 
 " Is she handsome ?" asked Lady Lovaine, 
 carelessly ; " for there are such a host of those 
 Fortescues, that I never can tell one from the 
 other. But this is the one that ran away once, 
 distracted by my sweet sister Waldegrave's 
 over-virtuousness, and silly Alice's weak com- 
 pliances." 
 
 " Is she really, really, Lady Lovaine, that 
 Miss Fortescue ? — I thought so, I guessed it. 
 Good heavens ! to drive so lovely a being to 
 that!" exclaimed Captain Ashbrook, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " Now, if there is one thing that can give 
 me more pleasure than another, Ashbrook, it 
 is to disappoint the manoeuvres of the saintly 
 Penelope — saintly as her namesake of old, who, 
 in my opinion, was all humbug." 
 
 " At any rate, dear my lady, do be so very 
 kind — and you know no one does more for the 
 good of society than yourself — do, therefore, 
 kindly drive over to visit this ill-fated young 
 lady— in whom I protest I feel an unusual in- 
 terest."
 
 119 
 
 " So I see ; and the good which you, and 
 most of your age, will do, Ashbrook, will usu- 
 ally find some such objects — charitable at a 
 small expense, inclination concurring. Now, 
 if you took in hand a few of my blind old 
 women — at the Almshouses — " 
 
 " But I never could take old women in hand : 
 however, I agree with you ; it is quite a duty. 
 Even the young and fair must be old in time ; 
 and I may live to say, of the charming Rosabel, 
 
 Those snowy locks, once auburn bright, 
 Are now more precious in my sight 
 Than golden hues of orient light." 
 
 " Well, well ; you act better than you talk," 
 said Lady Lovaine ; " and that is what one 
 cannot say of Mrs. Waldegrave — narrow- 
 minded, sanctimonious — Well, to-morrow, I 
 will set off, to oblige you, Ashbrook, — and to 
 vex her"
 
 120 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 such are the rich , 
 
 That have abundance and enjoy it not. 
 
 Rosabel was on the terrace walk, on the fol- 
 lowing clay, when Howard cried out to her — 
 
 " Look, Rosa, look ; here's a gentleman with 
 a long petticoat coming to see you." 
 
 Whilst he spoke, Lady Lovaine, followed by 
 a servant, rode towards the house. Her lady- 
 ship was attired in her accustomed hat, and 
 cravat, and a scarlet riding habit. Her cos- 
 tume, however, had nothing remarkable about 
 it, according to the fashion of the times ; it was 
 her unfeminine aspect which rendered her con- 
 spicuous. Rosabel, however, thought little of 
 any thing but the kindness which brought her 
 ladyship to see her, and, running down from 
 the terrace, her face glowing with pleasure,
 
 121 
 
 gave Lady Lovaine a reception far more cordial 
 than ceremonious. 
 
 " What have they buried you here for ?" was 
 her ladyship's first exclamation. " Is not Hales 
 Hall dull enough ? I am sure it is like Noah's 
 ark, except that no couples go in there, nor go 
 out either. It is all single blessedness there. 
 So ! you are head nurse, I suppose. Do they 
 want you to marry the farmer's son ? What 
 can Mrs. Waldegrave be about ?" 
 
 Lady Lovaine was one of those persons who 
 are quite independant of that part of conversa- 
 tion termed reply : she played the intellectual 
 shuttle-cock single-handed: her discourse was 
 all a monologue. 
 
 " My Lord's very unwell to-day — cased in 
 wash-leather by my advice — he's a heap of gout 
 and flannel. Ill — six days out of the seven — 
 complains of cold legs — which I think a very 
 bad symptom — shocking ! I am so occupied, I 
 can never get out ; but I promised Ashbrook 
 I would call on you to-day. Good bye. This 
 place is damp ; hope you have cork soles. 
 Well, to-rnorrow I shall send my coach for you, 
 to bring you to Medlicote. Mrs. Waldegrave 
 must " sanction" it, as she calls it: I shall send 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 
 
 for you at twelve o'clock. I shall be very glad 
 to see you. Don't expect me to entertain you : 
 I have a world of business on my hands. So 
 you are not to go to the ball to-night ? Poor 
 Cinderella!"— 
 
 " I would much rather go to Medlicote to- 
 morrow," said Rosabel : but Lady Lovaine rode 
 off, without seeming to notice her. 
 
 She left Rosabel quite elated, and resolved 
 to go to Medlicote, even if an express came 
 direct to forbid her ; which was scarcely pos- 
 sible. She climbed the hill with renovated 
 spirits, and looked along the richly wooded 
 country towards Hales Hall, with many a wist- 
 ful conjecture, even in her present elation, as 
 to what might be going on there. " By this 
 time," thought she, " the company expected to 
 dinner are beginning to arrive. Papa is look- 
 ing very stately in the great drawing room. 
 Aunt Waldegrave is in her best satins, and best 
 humour too, I suppose. Aunt iVlice is all 
 smiles; and Charlotte — Charlotte," thought 
 she, with something like a sigh, " is all in her 
 ball gaiety, I fancy, looking very well. I 
 wonder whether Captain x\shbrook will ask her 
 to dance the first set with him or not."
 
 123 
 
 Thus musing, and descending the hill with 
 a step less bounding than that with which she 
 had set out, Rosabel returned to the Grange, 
 feeling somewhat more solitary than usual, by 
 the contrast furnished by her own imagination 
 of the social pleasures which at this time glad- 
 dened her home. She drew near to her tem- 
 porary residence, and looked, with feelings 
 approaching to envy, into the spacious house- 
 place, or hall, in which the farmer and his 
 family were now assembled. The blaze of a 
 large wood fire streamed through the ample, 
 though latticed window, and reddened even the 
 slender leaves of the privet bushes which grew 
 near the house ; and Rosabel could see the 
 venerable head of Mrs. Rivers's father, as he 
 basked in the warmth on a settle within the 
 chimney enclosure : and she could hear sounds 
 of mirthful voices, and the clatter of tea cups ; 
 and she felt that she only, of all the inhabitants 
 of the old house, was indeed alone, and pre- 
 cluded from the fellowship of kindred souls. 
 " My father loves me," thought she — " why does 
 he then permit the unnatural partiality which is 
 shown to my elder sister, sowing the seeds of 
 disunion and of jealousy between us ? Did he 
 g2
 
 124 
 
 not receive me, repentant and faulty as I was, 
 and assure me that it should never more be 
 thus ? And Charlotte too— oh, Charlotte ! if 
 you were generous and kind, you might open 
 his eyes to the unfairness with which I am 
 treated ; but your very nature is altered too !" 
 
 She walked into the parlour, and tried to 
 compose herself to read, or to needle-work, 
 which Mrs. Waldegrave had supplied abun- 
 dantly. Youth is ever buoyant ; and the cir- 
 cumstances which would cruelly depress us in 
 middle age are sustained in early life with an 
 uprising spirit which has the semblance and 
 effect of heroism, but which is only elasticity. 
 Rosabel, after a few moments of abstraction 
 and seriousness, began to read, and soon felt 
 her spirits refreshed, and her fortitude re- 
 plenished, by the instant change of ideas, which 
 made a recurrence to her grievances less poig- 
 nant. Howard was tired, and not well, and 
 had been taken early to bed ; she therefore 
 had her tea alone, her candles were lighted, 
 her fire replenished, and the darkness of night 
 closed around Drayfield without her marking 
 the leaden foot of time. In the absence of 
 all distracting objects, she had become en-
 
 125 
 
 grossed by her book, when footsteps, quite 
 close to the house, the sound of voices, not 
 altogether plebeian, and the occasional tingling 
 of a bell, gleams of light breaking in through 
 the crevices of the old shutters, disturbed and 
 perhaps alarmed her : yet she rose from her 
 studies with that sort of half enjoyment which 
 the prospect of an adventure, be it fearful, or 
 be it innocent, produces in a long and dull 
 evening. A tap at the door announced the en- 
 trance of Mrs. Rivers. 
 
 " I came to tell you, Miss Rosabel, dear, not 
 to be frightened, — and would you like to see 
 the bat-fowling ?" 
 
 " Indeed I should," cried Rosabel : " My 
 hat and cloak are both here — but stay, I shall 
 put on my cloak only, as the hood will serve 
 me for a bonnet, and I shall see the sport 
 better. Come along, Mrs. Rivers. How de- 
 lightful ! I could not think what it was." 
 
 " Take my arm, dear Miss Rosa. You know 
 I have been trusted with you ever since you 
 could walk alone, and I'll take care now as no 
 one sees you." 
 
 " Who are they ? Are they gentlemen— or 
 farmers"— Rosabel was going to say ; but na-
 
 126 
 
 tural courtesy prevented her from drawing the 
 invidious distinction. 
 
 " They've got young Warner among them ; 
 may be you won't reckon him a gentleman ; his 
 grandfather has mended many a saddle for my 
 father in his day ; he was a saddler at Derby, 
 and the rest are all half-and-half gentlemen ; 
 my own son's among them, Miss Rosa." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Rosabel, drawing back, 
 " I had better not go, Mrs. Rivers." 
 
 " Why not, dear Miss Rosa ? They shall 
 none on 'em see you, and nobody shan't be the 
 wiser ; come along — did you never see the 
 sport ?" 
 
 " Never," returned Rosabel, whose pru- 
 dence was fast failing her ; and, leaning on the 
 ample support of Mrs. Rivers's well-covered 
 arm, she sallied forth, by the back way, into 
 the garden. 
 
 The party assembled to participate in this 
 ancient but somewhat cowardly diversion were, 
 as Mrs. Rivers and Rosabel passed behind 
 them, engaged in silently fastening a large net 
 over the trees which grew against the house, 
 and in which sparrows and other small birds, 
 victims of the sport, had settled themselves to
 
 127 
 
 roost. Mrs. Rivers and Rosabel planted them- 
 selves under the shadow of a large Arbutus, the 
 remains of former garden cultivation, and, 
 standing apart, the gleams of light which 
 played upon the turf, or flickered on the 
 gravel walk, reached them not. 
 
 The party collected were of that class, the 
 farmers of old times, before an altered position 
 in society, and artificial habits, had broken up 
 their real enjoyments, and had produced need- 
 less anxieties, the offspring of newly created 
 wants, and of profusion and ambition. Bird- 
 batting, or bat-fowling, or low-belling, by which 
 last name it was anciently called, was a 
 certain method of ensnaring small birds, and 
 being somewhat ignoble both in its object 
 and in the mode of pursuing it, was never, I 
 believe, a prevalent sport among the higher 
 classes. The group who now collected around 
 Mr. Rivers's house were furnished with two 
 nets ; one of the men carrying a lanthorn, so 
 contrived as to be shaded by a large socket or 
 dish before he reached the place of action, held 
 also in his hand a large bell, which, with the 
 aid of the lanthorn, so astounded the poor little 
 birds, that, turning their bodies quickly round.
 
 128 
 
 the light plumage on their breasts was visible. 
 Then the gentlemen of the net quickly secured 
 their victims. The sport was pursued thus 
 early in the evening, because the moon was 
 to rise at eight ; and the darker the night, 
 the better the diversion. The managers of the 
 net were forced to climb the tree ; and many a 
 suppressed laugh broke forth when, the light 
 being suddenly displayed, and the bell raised 
 aloft and sounded, the helpless victims were 
 seen fruitlessly struggling between the meshes 
 of the nets. Then they were consigned to the 
 baskets, and in those temporary dungeons con- 
 fined, until anon their little necks were wrung 
 in the farmer's kitchen. This pastime, more 
 honoured in the disuse than the observance, is 
 still practised in the agricultural midland coun- 
 ties of England, and probably will be considered 
 interesting only as the remnant of one of those 
 ancient diversions which, before manufactures 
 had defaced the land, engaged the yeomanry 
 of England. Whether we have any thing 
 better in the place of these now neglected pas- 
 times — whether the bulk of the population are 
 happier, because a few individuals of that po- 
 pulation are richer— is not readily to be deter- 
 mined.
 
 129 
 
 Rosabel, however, thought little upon these 
 matters ; she was only wearied with the sound 
 of the bell, and longed to rescue every fresh 
 victim from the merciless grasp of its destroyer. 
 The moon, however, began, in reproving ma- 
 jesty, to shine : the sport was over, and the party 
 hastened to Mr. Rivers's kitchen, according to 
 custom ; for great was the good cheer, and 
 uniform the hospitality, at that time exercised 
 in farm-houses. 
 
 Mrs. Rivers, with many apologies, left Rosa- 
 bel at the door ; and the latter was in no 
 humour for going within, for the silence of the 
 garden, after its previous bustle, rendered it 
 delightful. Unperceived, therefore, she stole 
 out again : it was scarcely eight o'clock ; and 
 in those peaceful regions she felt no fear in 
 wandering about the farmer's domain, espe- 
 cially as the hunting moon, as it is called, had 
 now risen, shedding upon the terrace slope 
 that fulness of light from which warmth, as 
 well as cheerfulness, is fancied by some to be 
 derived. Rosabel was suddenly inspired, she 
 knew not why, with a wish to walk down to the 
 gate where she had seen Captain Ashbrook, 
 and to return by the walk to the house which 
 G 3
 
 130 
 
 they had paced together ; and she was so un- 
 accustomed to refrain from anything of this 
 sort that she took it into her head to do, that 
 she set off, reached the gate, looked out into 
 the darkness of the lane, overshadowed with 
 hedge-row trees, and was returning, in her 
 usual bounding pace, to the farm, when the 
 sounds of voices and moans of suffering met 
 her ear. She stopped — all was silent — she 
 walked a few steps onwards — the sounds were 
 again heard — in a few moments she saw figures 
 approaching, evidently men who had emerged 
 from the lane, and who were walking towards 
 the house. Panic-struck, she fled, and, looking 
 back once only, thought she saw the two figures 
 quickening their pace towards her. She ran 
 round the house to the back door, which she 
 shook by the latch, crying out, " Mrs. Rivers, 
 here are two men, open the door." 
 
 Her request was instantly complied with, 
 and Rosabel plunged suddenly into the centre 
 of a group of farmers and farmers' sons, who 
 were assembled round an oak table : she re- 
 treated with as much precipitation as she had 
 entered, vexed with herself for her foolish 
 fears.
 
 131 
 
 " They are only beggars, I dare say, Mrs. 
 Rivers ; but they did walk so slow first, as if 
 creeping in, and then so fast" — 
 
 " There they are at the front door," cried 
 Mrs. Rivers ; " trampers, 1*11 be bound, or 
 Irish harvesters, come begging. — Why, you're 
 fairly out of breath, Miss Rosabel." 
 
 By this time, there was a violent knocking at 
 the front door. Mrs. Rivers, a stout, coura- 
 geous woman, disdaining the assistance of her 
 husband, or of her son John, snatched up a 
 candle, and, sallying forth from the little par- 
 lour into which she had shewn Rosabel, 
 marched towards the besieged entrance, Rosa- 
 bel following her at a little distance. 
 
 "My name is Middleton," said a voice, not 
 plebeian, " and my companion is Mr. Henry 
 Warner; he fell from his horse a mile or two 
 from here. I fear his arm is broken. The 
 horse was startled by some gypsies, who ran 
 across the path. Will you give him house- 
 room till I can get assistance ?" 
 
 "House-room, oh, yes! that was never de- 
 nied, here," was Mrs. Rivers's ready reply, in 
 all the pride of hospitality. " Good patience ! 
 how ill he looks ! John, come here! why don't
 
 132 
 
 you ? fetch opoldedoc ; quick, in the cupboard 
 to the right hand, on the left shelf, in my spare 
 house. — Dolly, a plaget of lint directly — quick, 
 be ready — Roger, the gentleman's fainting, get 
 salts and the brandy-bottle — James, run for the 
 doctor ; mind the bog, if you go across the 
 common — quick — Oh ! it's only three miles, sir. 
 Miss Rosabel, dear, might I just ask the gen- 
 tleman to step into your room, as there's the 
 settee, and we haven't a scrap of room in the 
 house-place, and" — 
 
 " Do you think I could refuse ?" cried Rosa- 
 bel — "pray come in directly. I am afraid he 
 is very, very much hurt." 
 
 " I will see to it," said Mrs. Rivers; "don't 
 be alarmed, sir — there, open the window — lie 
 down flat — shut your eyes, whilst I look at the 
 arm. Oh ! after all, the bone is not come 
 through the skin ; you'll not have to lose your 
 arm ; I have seen worse hurts, sir." 
 
 "Thank God!" exclaimed Rosabel. "I am 
 very, very glad." 
 
 Young Warner, in pain as he was, looked 
 earnestly at her. 
 
 "Miss Rosabel Fortescue," he said, with 
 evident pleasure — for the strange mode in
 
 133 
 
 which Rosabel had first been introduced to his 
 family, had been the prelude to an occasional 
 visiting on both sides, in which her warmth of 
 heart, her gratitude, and freedom from the little 
 airs which Charlotte had displayed, had ren- 
 dered Rosabel a general favourite with the 
 Warner family. Their interviews had not, it 
 is true, been frequent ; but the Miss Warners 
 had, now and then, passed what is called a long 
 day at the Hall, and Rosabel had gone several 
 times, by special permission, to Fairford. 
 
 Mrs. Rivers, of good, homely, practical know- 
 ledge, knew that all that could be done, until 
 the surgeon arrived, was to keep down inflamma- 
 tion. Then the arm must afterwards be set, and 
 the patient composed to rest. She prepared a 
 cooling application, and was about to bathe the 
 arm with it, when Rosabel said, timidly, " Since 
 I can be of no use here, can I write to Mr. 
 Warner, or any of the family, to apprize them 
 of the accident? They will, I fear, be very 
 much alarmed at Mr. Henry Warner's not re- 
 turning home, and" — 
 
 " You are very good," said Mr. Middleton ; 
 " but Henry was to have slept at our house 
 to-night ; it is only four miles hence. I will
 
 134 
 
 return home when I have heard the opinion 
 of the surgeon, and to-morrow it will be soon 
 enough, as the accident is not dangerous, we 
 trust, to agitate poor Mr. Warner's mind : ill 
 tidings always fly fast enough." 
 
 " It is worth while," said Henry Warner, 
 falteringly, as Rosabel left the room, "to be 
 hurt, to have such sympathy." 
 
 Rosabel was glad that she had this little op- 
 portunity of shewing any slight attention to any 
 member of the Warner family, towards whom 
 she had very kindly feelings, which only wanted 
 more frequent intercourse to ripen them into 
 friendship. 
 
 Excited by the events of the day, it was long 
 before she could compose herself sufficiently, 
 after this adventure, to retire to bed. Some hours 
 afterwards, when she had fallen asleep, she was 
 awakened by the tramping of the surgeon's 
 horse under her window, and, in the morning, 
 the first tidings that greeted her, were, that 
 Mr. Henry Warner had had his arm set, and 
 was doing well : then a series of bulletins fol- 
 lowed, whilst she breakfasted in Mrs. Riverss 
 own spare parlour : this was an apartment six 
 feet by ten, with polished oak floor ; varnished
 
 135 
 
 by the industry of some neat-handed Phillis, 
 even to the point of slipperiness ; its furni- 
 ture consisting of a round claw table, bright, 
 but not commodious, four ponderous oak armr 
 chairs, and a small square carpet in the 
 centre of the room ; — an old-fashioned buffet, 
 garnished with egg-shell china, stood at one 
 end. About, around, were the insignia of the 
 sportsmen, and of the farmer's occupations ; a 
 pair of pistols hung over the chimney-piece, pro- 
 tecting as it were the profiles of Mrs. Rivers's 
 father and mother, in black, shaded with gold 
 touches ; a sampler with Adam and Eve, an 
 apple-tree between them, Miss Rivers's first 
 essay in the fine arts, and quills worked by 
 some careful hands in silk overcasting, again 
 betokened the pervading influence of the femi- 
 nine gender ; a stuffed owl decorated another 
 corner, an emblem of wisdom, counter-balanced 
 by a Canadian goose, also immortalized, in the 
 opposite extremity. Rosabel, early accustomed 
 to the simple, antiquated, and perhaps vulgar 
 tastes of her host and hostess, little indeed re- 
 garded what was within the house. Her atten- 
 tion was fixed upon the back-way entrance,
 
 136 
 
 and upon the variations which its circumscribed 
 limits presented. 
 
 The farm-yard denizens were all in activity: 
 the team was coming in, hot and panting, from 
 the early ploughing ; a few cows were still per- 
 mitted to linger among the fodder ; the great 
 bull bellowed lugubriously in the stall, through 
 the half-opened door of which his short but 
 ponderous legs were visible. To his grum- 
 blings the large house-mastiff howled respon- 
 sively, whilst a concert in tenor notes from 
 ducks, geese, hens, chickens, gallinas, and tur- 
 kies, filled up every pause. The slow, yet 
 unlooked-for entrance of a yellow chariot, 
 drawn by two post horses, occasioned a revolu- 
 tion in a scene which was rural without being 
 tranquil. The cows fled, the chickens flew 
 screaming, the ducks were run over, the tur- 
 keys gave out bravuras, the mastiff barked with 
 a vehemence which seemed to border upon hu- 
 man spite. 
 
 In the midst of this tumult, bottles of wine, 
 a medicine chest, some pillows, and a blanket, 
 were carried out, and brought into Mrs. Rivers's 
 parlour, by an attendant spirit.
 
 137 
 
 " Mr. Warner, and the Miss Warners, are 
 arrived, to see Mr. Henry," was the intelli- 
 gence which accompanied this unloading ; and, 
 not long afterwards, the further announcement 
 of " if you please, Miss Rosabel, the Miss 
 Warners wish to see you," was followed by 
 the entrance of those young ladies into the 
 room. 
 
 They were, as was proper, in tears, and ex- 
 hibiting all the insignia of distress at their 
 brother's accident. " Poor Henry, poor dear 
 Henry, how shocking, how distressing, poor 
 dear soul, oh, dear me !" were for some mo- 
 ments the only sounds which broke upon the 
 sympathizing ear of Rosabel. Phillis, the 
 elder sister, was the first to recover from the 
 paroxysm of a sorrow not deadly. She was 
 what is called a strong-minded young woman, 
 a person of clear judgment, decided opinions, 
 and regulated feelings. Looked up to by a 
 a numerous family of sisters and brothers, 
 Phillis had early learned to regard her own 
 opinion as infallible, her determinations as a 
 sort of final court of judicature, from which 
 there was no appeal. She had much of her 
 father's self-sufficiency, with more good nature
 
 138 
 
 and sensibility than he possessed. As she 
 thought highly of herself, so she judged se- 
 verely of others. Every thing that came not 
 up to her own standard of right was condemned 
 unrelentingly ; herself, her father, and her own 
 family, personified this standard, and embodied 
 her abstract notions of propriety of conduct, 
 perfection of judgment, and importance. 
 
 Amy, her sister, was the mental slave of 
 Phillis — her shadow, and, like shadows, mag- 
 nified the object which she followed. To re- 
 peat her sister's sentiments, echo and re-echo 
 her opinions, imitate, in a weak, faint way, her 
 decided assertions, and pin the whole of her faith 
 upon her sister's responsibility, was the vocation 
 of humble Amy. This veneration on the part of 
 Amy, Phillis returned with affectionate interest ; 
 for Amy was pretty, the Cynosure of gentlemen 
 farmers, attorneys, clerks, young apothecaries, 
 and hopeless curates. At present, the Warners 
 were only in a third-rate county set, and Amy 
 had not yet tasted the danger of any fleeting 
 attentions from Captain Ashbrook, or the Mr. 
 Fortescues. 
 
 But to return to Mrs. Rivers's parlour. After 
 a due course of sympathetics, the young ladies
 
 139 
 
 began to recover their spirits. First, they 
 amended upon the strength of a good luncheon ; 
 then they revived more completely over a blaz- 
 ing fire; and, afterwards, rose into high spirits 
 upon the discussion of a ball ; especially as 
 Mr. Warner was safely bestowed, talking to 
 his son, whom he proposed to harangue upon 
 the carelessness which had produced his present 
 accident, and the good fortune which had saved 
 him from losing his arm ; an exordium from 
 which the young ladies were not sorry to 
 escape.
 
 140 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ' Think not I love him, though I ask for him: 
 
 words do well, 
 
 When he that speaks them pleases those that hear." 
 
 Shakspearb. 
 
 "The ball? Oh, yes! it was delightful," 
 observed Amy in reply to a question from 
 Rosabel. 
 
 " I do not," said Phillis, "consider it to have 
 been a good ball at all." 
 
 " Don't you, indeed ?" cried Amy. 
 
 "Neither of the county members was there," 
 pursued Phillis, "though their families were : 
 — the gentlemen were nothing but a collection 
 of fox-hunters — the ladies held themselves in- 
 sufferably high — and there was quite a commo- 
 tion in the room, from Lady Lovaine's taking 
 Miss Crompton, Lord S s' natural daugh- 
 ter, from the top of the set, where she had 
 placed herself, and telling her that her place 
 ought to be at the bottom."
 
 141 
 
 " Very right, to be sure," said Amy, modestly 
 — "but what a fright that Lady Lovaine is." 
 
 " Papa cannot endure her," said Phillis ; 
 " she has affronted Papa : — as for poor Lord 
 Lovaine, he is very harmless. And then her 
 nephew, Captain Ashbrook, is become so very 
 high — no one fit to dance with him but a 
 Townsend, or a Fortescue, or a Percival." 
 
 " He asked me to dance one set, but I was 
 engaged," interposed Amy, in a subdued tone. 
 
 " He knew you were engaged," returned 
 Phillis ; " and he was too much occupied with 
 somebody else to desire it; — talking to one 
 person the whole night." 
 
 "Was he?" enquired Rosabel, colouring 
 slightly. " But who were the belles of the 
 room ? How were the ladies, in general, 
 dressed ? It will be quite an entertainment to 
 me, I assure you, to hear any particulars, how- 
 ever trifling. How were you yourself dressed, 
 Phillis ; and you, Amy ? And how did Char- 
 lotte look ?" 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Fortescue, as Miss Fortescue, 
 must always be admired," said Phillis coldly, 
 " being who and what she is, and introduced by 
 ladies of such quality as Mrs. Waldegrave and
 
 142 
 
 Miss Alice Though they are your aunts, I 
 
 must say they are uncommonly haughty, 
 Rosabel." 
 
 " I am sorry you should ever find them so, 
 dear Phillis : — but you know 'tis born with the 
 Fortescues. Charlotte had her pearls, my 
 mother's pearls on, had she not? Were 
 buffonts worn? And did she dance with 
 Captain Ashbrook ? 
 
 " Yes, I think she did ; did she not, Amy ? 
 twice, did she ? I cannot say I considered Miss 
 Fortescue to be the belle of the room, though 
 people called her so." 
 
 " Who was then the reigning beauty?" asked 
 Rosabel, anxiously. " The Miss Goody ers, 
 were they there ? Does Captain Ashbrook 
 know them ?" 
 
 " Perhaps he does — not that his attentions 
 were bestowed in that quarter," replied Phillis. 
 
 " Then in what quarter were they bes- 
 towed," cried Rosabel, impatiently, her natural 
 frankness getting the better of her prudence : — 
 " how can you be so tantalizing, Phillis ?" 
 
 Phillis laughed, and so did Amy, and so did 
 Rosabel. 
 
 " You have no chance, Rosabel," said Miss
 
 143 
 
 Warner ; " all the world says that the heir of 
 the Lovaine estates is to marry a Fortescue, 
 and a Fortescue it is to be : — he was even (the 
 object of his real attention being otherwise 
 disposed of) flirting with Miss Alice all night." 
 
 " That was on Charlotte's account then, I am 
 sure," said Rosabel ; " I have no doubt it is 
 quite a settled thing." 
 
 " I am certain he has no preference in that 
 quarter," cried Phillis, warmly, and Amy of 
 course seconded her — "in that quarter? No! 
 I am positive that Captain Ashbrook has no 
 preference to Miss Fortescue." 
 
 " Poor Captain Ashbrook," answered Rosa- 
 bel with a smile and a blush, is transferred 
 from one lady to another according to our ima- 
 ginations, like a shuttle-cock, and after all " 
 
 "After all," said Phillis, " may die an old 
 bachelor ; and, I think, will." 
 
 " I think so too," added Amy. 
 
 " However, he looked vastly well," pursued 
 Miss Warner, "last night, in a bloom-coloured 
 coat, embroidered down the sleeves, and with 
 frogs at the button holes." 
 
 " But I am glad," said her sister, " he has
 
 144 
 
 not adopted the new rams' horn curl, so 
 odious." 
 
 " Really," cried Rosabel, " you make me 
 quite sensible how much out of the world I live ; 
 I know nothing of these modern fashions." 
 
 " Then you have not seen frivolite," ex- 
 claimed Amy, eagerly ; the most lovely trim- 
 ming ! — and mixed with feathers — quite en- 
 chanting !" 
 
 " I like no trimming but the drooping wil- 
 low, feather trimming," observed Phillis, im- 
 periously. " It would be as well, I think, if 
 Miss Fortescue were not to be the very first in 
 the county to set the fashion of leaving off the 
 apron — not quite the thing, as Papa says." 
 
 " Nor Miss Alice ! Rosabel, forgive the re- 
 mark. Fancy your aunt Alice, with top-knots 
 of Elliott's red-hot bullets — the new ribbon, all 
 the rage," remarked Amy. 
 
 " Like a bunch of poppies, I should think," 
 said Rosabel. — 
 
 " Upon stubble," added Phillis, " which your 
 aunt's hair, powdered, and set up with that 
 charming little fringe of locks which she wears 
 to shade her forehead, is not unlike."
 
 145 
 
 " Mrs. Waldegrave's lappets were twisted 
 with pearl," resumed Amy, after the three 
 young ladies were fairly exhausted with their 
 irreverent merriment upon aunt Alice's hair. 
 
 " And her spangles all tarnished," said 
 Phillis, " having been shut up for half a cen- 
 tury, I dare say." 
 
 Their discourse was interrupted by a sum- 
 mons from Mr. Warner, and a request that 
 Miss Rosabel Fortescue would allow his son 
 the honour of thanking her for her attention 
 on the preceding evening. Mr. Warner was 
 now in a great hurry to depart, and it seemed 
 as if he anticipated the worst public results 
 likely to occur from his mind being so much 
 engrossed by domestic concerns. 
 
 " A man like me, in a public capacity, Miss 
 Rosabel, should have no private business of his 
 own to attend to. When poor Mrs. Warner 
 was alive, all these things were managed for 
 me. Really a man like myself should have 
 nothing to harass him at home : — I meet with 
 mischief, roguery, and trouble enough out of 
 doors, God knows." 
 
 " Well, sir, there is no help for these matters," 
 said Phillis, imperatively, as, preceded by Rosa- 
 
 II
 
 146 
 
 bel, she entered the room where her brother 
 still lay, as on the preceding evening. He T iry 
 Warner was justly regarded by his acquaint- 
 ance as the most promising member of his 
 own family. In early life he had been wild, 
 forward, and idle ; but the strong discipline 
 of a college life, and an association with young 
 men of talent and exertion, had drawn forth 
 a capacity of no contemptible order, and re- 
 pressed, if it had not cured, defects of no 
 very serious character. He was intended for 
 the bar, a profession which Mr. Warner had 
 often lamented not having followed himself, 
 cut out for it as he was, according to his 
 own estimation. Rosabel, who had not seen 
 Mr. Henry Warner since he had taken his 
 degree at Cambridge, and who had scarcely 
 glanced at him on the preceding evening, was 
 struck at the improvement in his appearance 
 and manner. He was a tall and gentlemanly 
 young man, with a countenance at once intelli- 
 gent and animated : — bolstered up by pillows in 
 the enclosure of Mrs. Rivers's capacious easy 
 chair, he thanked her for her ready surrender 
 of her own sitting apartment with so much 
 grace and ease of manner, he looked so very
 
 147 
 
 interesting in his character of an invalid, and 
 he appeared to be so very much obliged to her- 
 self, that Rosabel could almost have forgotten 
 that he was not among her own privileged set, 
 out of whose pale she had been educated to 
 think none were gentlemen. She was inter- 
 rupted in her enquiries and condolences by an 
 announcement from Mrs. Rivers that Lady Lo- 
 vaine's carriage waited to convey her to Med- 
 licote. Having taken a hasty farewell of her 
 friends, she ran to arrange her dress, leaving 
 Mr. Warner much mollified by the affability 
 of her manners to himself, Phillis and Amy 
 more than ever her friends and partisans, and 
 their brother disposed to admire her with as 
 much warmth as the inferior caste of Warner 
 could presume to feel for a Fortescue. 
 
 H 2
 
 148 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " The superstructure of pride seemed bottomed upon a sense 
 of worth." — Elia. 
 
 Rosabel found Lady Lovaine in a kind of 
 laboratory, weighing out grains of calomel, 
 and grating rhubarb. Some camomile tea was 
 infusing in a pipkin on the fire, and there 
 was a compound odour of senna, gentian, 
 and sarsaparilla. Her ladyship's maid stood 
 by, labelling bottles, and folding little packets, 
 which ever and anon she transferred into a 
 small basket. 
 
 " How are you, my dear ? You will excuse 
 coming to me here : I am very busy ; — Laton, 
 wrap up that bolus in wafer paper. I shall 
 take you, Miss Fortescue, to see my villagers ; 
 you have no idea in what capital health I keep 
 them. Laton, do not forget the bandages, and
 
 149 
 
 linen rollers for the bad legs. I use Buchan : 
 do your aunts use Buchan >" added she, peep- 
 ing into a large open book, as she spoke. 
 
 " You don't know, indeed — you seem to be 
 kept sadly in the dark about many things, at 
 Hales Hall. Since some of you must marry 
 clergymen, or squires with small estates, it 
 would be as well for you to learn these 
 things. The worst of it is, that the poor have 
 such a great dislike to take medicine — they are 
 as bad as my lord. But come, my dear, I have 
 two women, five children, and six old men to 
 visit." 
 
 They sallied forth, and moved towards the 
 village at a running pace, the conversation 
 going on in the most desultory manner, and 
 all on one side. Lady Lovaine was quite an 
 amateur in accidents, ailments, operations, and 
 remedies, and could not hear of any thing con- 
 nected with her favourite subject, without long- 
 ing to be in the midst of the business. 
 
 " Broke an arm ? How ? When ?" demand- 
 ed she, suddenly stopping, whilst Rosabel was 
 telling her ladyship one of the adventures of the 
 preceding evening. " What advice has he had ? 
 My dear, I am quite sorry you did not let me
 
 150 
 
 know ; I would have come over, and seen the 
 young man this morning. What embrocation 
 now does Mrs. Rivers use ? Was it effectual ? 
 I must have her receipt. Does she use lint, 
 or rag, cotton lint, or linen ?" As she spoke, 
 they reached Medlicote, a straggling hamlet, 
 rather than village, with here and there a 
 bettermost kind of cottage, or a substantial 
 farm-house, to break the lowly aspect of the 
 scene. Human population seemed the only 
 thing which throve here — troops of boys and 
 girls running into the gutters, or stopping up 
 the path-way with their little acts of reverence, 
 irritated Lady Lovaine beyond measure. 
 
 " Of all things, what should people have chil- 
 dren for?" said she, petulantly. " Well, Nancy, 
 how are you ? How is your mother ? What, 
 another child ! eight ? How dare she go on so ? 
 Tell her I am very angry with her." 
 
 Her ladyship proceeded at a rapid pace, 
 sometimes stopping to enquire kindly concern- 
 ing the health of certain of her patients, at 
 other times condescending to scold the thought- 
 less boys who were playing truant from school, 
 and wasting their time playing marbles. On a 
 sudden, she darted off across the road, saving to
 
 151 
 
 Rosabel " come and see my school ;" and, with 
 the rapidity natural to an energetic and im- 
 petuous character, she bolted into a low-roofed 
 edifice, where the discordant sounds of uncul- 
 tured youthful voices, raised, as in low life they 
 usually are, to their utmost pitch, made Rosa- 
 bel start back, and even Lady Lovaine hold her 
 hands for a moment to her head. There was 
 every gradation of discord which could jar upon 
 the senses, from the twang of boyhood, to 
 the tremulous scream of infancy. All might 
 be harmony and system, but confusion and un- 
 intelligible repetition were alone evident to the 
 uninitiated spectator. A stern-visaged man, with 
 a pen behind his ear, and a long wand of office 
 in his hand, stood in the midst of the more ad- 
 vanced pupils : a woman, with a hot angry face, 
 and corresponding tone of voice, seemed to be 
 making some lesser victims in one corner as 
 unhappy as infancy can be rendered — an un- 
 happiness which ceases, at that period of life, 
 with the cause which gives it birth. 
 
 " Is it not a pleasing sight ?" said Lady 
 Lovaine, her fine features beaming with a plea- 
 sure at once benevolent and self-approving. 
 " This school, Miss Fortescue, is my raising: —
 
 152 
 
 just think bow much may be done in five 
 years — will you hear a class ? Have you a taste 
 that way ?" 
 
 « No ?" 
 
 " Extraordinary ! I own I cannot stand it my- 
 self; but my nerves never were strong. You 
 know, I suppose," she continued, as she again 
 emerged into the main road, 6 « that my nephew, 
 Captain Ashbrook — Sukey, forshame now : 
 not at school ? you shall be expelled, you little 
 sinner, for non-attendance — You know, of 
 course, Miss Rosabel, that Captain Ashbrook 
 is to marry ? — John Hobbins, how is your 
 rheumatism ? Have you put on the plaister ? 
 Well and good ; your sister ? — I must just cross 
 over to speak to widow Barnes. Now, Laton, 
 unload — hydrarg here — with lenitive elect." 
 
 " At least," continued Lady Lovaine, after 
 leaving Rosabel for a few minutes in suspense, 
 in the middle of the road, £ « the world has 
 settled it so : and now, if you wish to see a poor 
 consumptive tailor, in the last stage, with a 
 widow, that is to be, and three children, all in 
 the greatest distress, follow me — don't shrink, 
 those cows are perfectly quiet." 
 
 " I have now only one lumbago, and two
 
 153 
 
 cases of erysipelas, to visit," pursued her lady- 
 ship, as she quitted the house of the poor tailor, 
 who found himself too ill, as many of her pa- 
 tients did, to see even his patroness. 
 
 • " But, perhaps this ramble is too much for 
 you ? young ladies of the present day have no 
 constitutions ; they are knocked up directly. 
 And so, Miss Fortescue is to be, according to 
 speculation, the lady of Ashbrook— Mrs. Wal- 
 degrave's Charlotte — and, perhaps, at some 
 future period, the mistressof Medlicote. — ' Hail, 
 Thane, that shall be !' — How do you like this 
 prospect for your sister ?" 
 
 She glanced with seemingly careless haste at 
 Rosabel's varying countenance, but hastened 
 on, exclaiming, " there's Ashbrook now, do 
 you entertain him, while I cross over to Widow 
 Green's. I forgot, Laton, the sassafras drink for 
 her." 
 
 Captain Ashbrook rode leisurely at first, 
 over the little rustic bridge which bestrode 
 a narrow stream, fringed with osiers and 
 willows ; but, on seeing Rosabel standing 
 alone, on the quiet pathway of the village, 
 quickened his pace, and, dismounting from his 
 horse, consigned it to his groom. 
 
 H 3
 
 154 
 
 " Lady Lovaine will be here in a moment," 
 said Rosabel, eagerly ; anxious to explain her 
 seemingly lonely appearance in the village. 
 
 " My lady begs you will not wait for her 
 ladyship, but will walk home with Captain 
 Ashbrook," said Mrs. Laton, who now ad- 
 vanced towards them ; " she may be detained, 
 and thinks that Miss Fortescue is tired." 
 
 " Very likely ; I am sure that I should be,' 5 
 said Captain Ashbrook, as Laton, having de- 
 livered her message, left them. " There is a 
 very pretty tarn down this way, to an old 
 decoy, famous, in the days of Elizabeth, for wild 
 ducks and water game of all sorts. Will you 
 allow me to shew it to you ? I know my aunt's 
 rambles too well, not to suppose that you must 
 be fatigued if you attempt to follow the devious 
 windings of her paths. You will think," he 
 added, " that there is something whimsical in 
 the family, when I conduct you down this lane, 
 from which all prospect is precluded, and which 
 seems, at present, to lead to nothing." 
 
 " Oh, but I like a genuine country walk," 
 said Rosabel ; " I am tired of parks, and plan- 
 tations, paddocks, avenues, and terraces." 
 
 " — Too much cultivation — too much formality
 
 155 
 
 — and something like imprisonment, perhaps," 
 replied her companion ; " you like those roads 
 which seem open to the rest of the world ; 
 where the homely pursuits of the humble and 
 free are carried on." 
 
 " Yes ; that is what I like ; they give me 
 a sensation of freedom, which one never feels 
 hemmed round by palings and stuck fences." 
 Both Rosabel and her companion were silent for 
 for some moments. The narrow lane seemed 
 interminable ; its sides were closed in by the wild 
 rose, now leafless and deprived of all its glories, 
 save of the rich scarlet heps, which form its latest 
 adornments: the nut-trees and the silver birch, 
 interspersed in the hedge-rows, shed their 
 leaves across the path-way, and through their 
 slender branches occasional glimpses of the 
 rich home scenes of an agricultural country 
 might be seen. Suddenly, the road widened, 
 and the stream, which irrigated the meadows 
 near the village, swelled into some importance, 
 and ran across it. x\bove its shallow course 
 rose a bridge of some architectural pretensions ; 
 the arches were symmetrical and regular, and 
 the rich old-fashioned structure was edged and
 
 156 
 
 fortified with stone. On one side, behind a 
 stately row of limes and alders, at this season 
 fading in the utmost glory of Nature's colouring, 
 the waters of the stream were banked up into a 
 pond, long and dark, and its surface, now in its 
 degeneracy, defaced with weeds, and disguised 
 by little islets, upon which the willow-herb and 
 teazle grew, intermixed with twigs of osier and 
 the naked stems of reeds. The pool was encir- 
 cled with trees, and in its dank waters, at a 
 distance, some remains of its former purposes 
 might be traced. On them the water-hen and 
 coot still glided, and reared their young in the 
 sedgy sides of the aquatic enclosure. On a 
 bank, slightly elevated above the water's edge, 
 stood a gloomy-looking tenement, ancient, with 
 gable ends and ponderous chimneys, and ap- 
 propriated, in former days, to the residence of 
 those who had the important charge of the 
 decoy. A complete seclusion reigned around 
 the whole scene. The house fronted another 
 way, and, in its dark and isolated situation, 
 seemed fit for the purposes of decoying human 
 victims, suitable for treasons, murders, or in- 
 fliction of the basest revenge.
 
 157 
 
 " How beautiful that weed !" Rosabel 
 stooped, as she spoke, to pluck a spray of 
 the myosotis, which grew in the shallow edges 
 of the water, near which she stood. Captain 
 Ashbrook, quicker than herself, was the first 
 to disentangle a spray. 
 
 " Now, I am so very ignorant," said Rosabel, 
 " though I have lived all my life in the country, 
 I do not even know the name of this flower — 
 do you ?" 
 
 " It is the Forget-me-not," said Captain 
 Ashbrook, with a momentary hesitation, as he 
 placed the sprig in her hand. 
 
 "How foolish I am," thought Rosabel, " to 
 blush ; but it ought to have been given to Char- 
 lotte ;" and, after walking a little while, she con- 
 scientiously, as she deemed it, let the flower fall ; 
 but not, it must be confessed, without a slight 
 pang, which enhanced the virtue of the sa- 
 crifice. 
 
 They paused some time upon the bridge, then 
 moving forwards, leaving the Elizabethian struc- 
 ture behind them, arrived on the brow of the hill, 
 whence, by a gentle descent, they quickly, per- 
 haps too quickly, reached the gates of Medlicote
 
 158 
 
 Park. Something, scarcely to herself acknow- 
 ledged, impeded the course of Rosabel's enjoy- 
 ment in this excursion ; yet with what fondness 
 did she, in after life, recur to this w^alk, as to one 
 of the most fleeting, yet greatest, enjoyments 
 which the tenor of her early days afforded. 
 Nevertheless, there was a contrariety in her 
 feelings and wishes, for which she felt herself 
 almost culpable. She had just heard that 
 Captain Ashbrook was paying his addresses, or 
 was thought to be paying his addresses, to her 
 sister. Why could she not more cordially re- 
 joice at the circumstance ? Why was he less 
 the idol of her girlish fancies to-day than he 
 had been yesterday ? His very attention to 
 herself no longer afforded her the pleasure 
 it had imparted before ; and, dearly as she 
 thought she loved her sister, had lost much of 
 its zest since its motive was supposed to spring 
 from a secondary source. 
 
 Captain Ashbrook, however, soon succeeded 
 in restoring his absorbed companion to some- 
 what of her usual elasticity of spirits. The 
 charm which women of taste and sensibility 
 find in the society of well-bred and well-
 
 159 
 
 educated men, and which they are taught to 
 conceal, but of which they should rather be 
 proud than ashamed, began, by degrees, to as- 
 sert its influence over Rosabel's untutored, but 
 not unstored, mind. Captain Ashbrook had 
 those tastes, and that varied information which 
 experience, as well as early culture, is necessary 
 to impart. His mind was almost in its maturity — 
 hers just expanding, but able to comprehend, and 
 therefore, in some measure, to appreciate the 
 powers of his. Captain Ashbrook had an eye 
 for beauty, both intellectual, moral, and inani- 
 mate ; and, though a travelled man, he could 
 discern, with a well-judging taste, the peculiar 
 charms of the scene — not romantic, but yet 
 fair — through which his footsteps now wandered. 
 Medlicote, with its sunny dells, had been fami- 
 liar to him from childhood. Every thorn which 
 grew on its swelling meadows, every by-path 
 through its thickets,were familiar to him. There 
 was a sort of affectionate enthusiasm in his feel- 
 ings for the old place, in which Rosabel, from 
 her love for Hales Park, participated. Yet he 
 looked upon it with the eye of an improver ; 
 and in that Rosabel participated too.
 
 160 
 
 " Were this place mine," he said, stopping 
 and leaning, with Rosabel on his arm, over a 
 gate, " I should take down that summer-house, 
 and allow the rocky summit of that mount to 
 be partly visible through the trees : — I should 
 undo a great deal that has been done here — it 
 is the usual error in park scenery to do too 
 much. Look back, now : had not that belt of 
 pines been planted, we could have caught a 
 glimpse of the decoy ; and what a fine object 
 its gables would have supplied beyond those 
 dark woods. I should turn that road round by 
 the paddock, and I should — but you smile at 
 my visionary improvements." 
 
 " Perhaps they are not altogether so vision- 
 ary," said Rosabel, laughing. " I never knew 
 till to-day, when Lady Lovaine told me, that 
 you were the— the — " 
 
 " Heir to Medlicote, I suppose you mean," 
 said Captain Ashbrook. " Well, so you are 
 very much shocked at my anticipating my 
 honours in imagination. But this has been 
 so early and so much my home, that I feel 
 like a son here ; you know Ashbrook is no 
 home to me. Here I have, at least, a sem-
 
 161 
 
 blance of domestic life — a ray from that bright 
 centre of enjoyments, from which, hitherto, my 
 profession has debarred me." 
 
 He laid an emphasis on the word hitherto ; 
 and Rosabel thought to herself, " what a pros- 
 pect for Charlotte !" By degrees she gained 
 more courage, and, the true spirit of woman- 
 kind rising uppermost, she began to revolve in 
 her own mind how she could introduce some 
 topic which could lead to her sister — could 
 elicit her appearance at the ball — women al- 
 ways consider appearance as half the battle 
 won ; could raise a blush from Captain Ash- 
 brook, or ensnare him into a sigh. Women are 
 generally fertile in manoeuvres ; but Rosabel 
 was not at present an adept in wheeling round to 
 the point which she desired to ascertain. At 
 present, it was most easy to her to say exactly 
 what she thought ; the world had not yet taught 
 uer the difficulty of being sincere. However, 
 she endeavoured to make her first essay in 
 conversational tactics, as, with Captain Ash- 
 brook, she arrived very near to the front en- 
 trance of Medlicote. There w T as only a small 
 portion of the lawn to be traversed, and, in 
 despair, she began —
 
 162 
 
 " The Miss Warners were at the ball the 
 other evening, they told me." 
 
 " The Miss Warners ! — have you seen them 
 since the ball ?" said Captain Ashbrook, sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; their brother met with an acci- 
 dent near Drayfield ; they brought him back 
 to the farm." 
 
 Captain Ashbrook was all astonishment and 
 concern ; he knew more of Mr. Henry Warner 
 than any of the family ; he was full of those 
 minute, accurate enquiries which men make, 
 not contented, as women usually are, with a 
 flaming description of a mere catastrophe ; but 
 Rosabel was not particularly happy, on this oc- 
 casion, to reply to all his queries. She was 
 obliged, however, after all, to tell Captain Ash- 
 brook about the bat-fowling, which she would 
 gladly have passed over ; and her description 
 was such, that Captain Ashbrook guessed, 
 though he did not say so, that she had been a 
 witness to the sport. He looked very grave ; 
 and Rosabel was rather surprised that he 
 seemed so much concerned, as the accident had 
 not proved serious. 
 
 They reached the hall door : but, some how
 
 163 
 
 or other, their steps moved involuntarily, as it 
 were, round and round the carriage sweep, in- 
 stead of ascending the hall steps. 
 
 " And the Miss Warners were saying," re- 
 commenced Rosabel, " that minuets are not 
 quite so much in vogue ; I am very glad — I re- 
 member what I suffered in learning the Minuet 
 de la Cour ; — and that Miss Churchill was the 
 belle of the room." 
 
 " Minuets — oh, yes ; they will be quite aban- 
 doned, I do hope — which Mrs. Waldegrave 
 was regretting — I wish that had been the case 
 some years ago, before we all had the trouble 
 of learning them." 
 
 " So do I, indeed," said Rosabel ; " but," she 
 added, hesitatingly, " is Miss Churchill tall ?" 
 
 " Did you never see her?" enquired Captain 
 Ashbrook, in return : " she must have been 
 often at Hales Hall, I should think." 
 
 " Yes ; but you know, or more likely you do 
 not know, though I think I mentioned it, that 
 I am not yet introduced. I do not enter yet 
 into the large dinner parties at home." 
 
 " Is your sister, then, so much older than 
 you are ?" asked Captain Ashbrook ; " excuse 
 me. I am asking an improper question ; but I
 
 164 
 
 thought there might have been some brothers 
 between." 
 
 " Now, then, he is opening upon the real 
 subject of his interests," thought Rosabel. 
 
 "No! Charlotte and I are very, very nearly 
 of an age — that is to say, there are only eighteen 
 months between us." 
 
 "And is that a cause of sorrow," said Cap- 
 tain Ashbrook, smiling ; " for I think I heard, 
 did I not, something like a sigh upon the occa- 
 sion ? At your age, young ladies are apt ' to 
 chide slow-footed time,' until the period arrives 
 when they are to be emancipated from domestic 
 controul. Have you then learned to love your 
 chains?" 
 
 "Now, then, he wants to find out what age 
 Charlotte is," said Rosabel to herself, "and I 
 will relieve his suspense ; I will tell him at 
 once. 
 
 " Charlotte was nineteen last May," she said, 
 abruptly. 
 
 " That is a very dexterous way," returned 
 Captain Ashbrook, "of letting me know how 
 discreet an age you have attained ; and, indeed, 
 I quite agree with what is passing in your 
 thoughts, which I interpret to be, that you were
 
 165 
 
 entitled by your age to go to the ball, and that 
 it is a great hardship that you did not go." 
 
 " Why will he turn every thing off in this 
 manner?" thought Rosabel. 
 
 "I am sure," she said, trying to be generous, 
 " that Charlotte would have been very glad if I 
 could have gone with her ; but it was not thought 
 proper by my aunt. Did she dance much ?" 
 
 " Who ? Mrs. Waldegrave, or Miss Fortes- 
 cue ?" 
 
 " Oh, my sister, to be sure: my aunts, I 
 should think, have not danced since the days 
 of Queen Caroline." 
 
 " Your sister, I should think, must have 
 danced all the evening ; but I understood you 
 had heard every particular from the Miss 
 Warners — your interview with them was not, 
 then, probably, of long duration ?" 
 
 "This must be intentional, tiresome man," 
 thought Rosabel, as, summoned by the half-hour 
 bell, she turned into the house and ran up stairs 
 to dress.
 
 166 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 You are rather point device in your accoutrements." 
 
 As YOU LIKE IT. 
 
 LADY Lovaine sacrificed so far at the shrine 
 of vanity, or rather of custom — that more 
 powerful bond — as to cast off, at dinner-time, 
 her masculine attire, and to "dress;" a term 
 formerly of far more extensive signification 
 than in the present day. 
 
 She appeared, on the occasion now described, 
 in a cardinal-blue lutestring, not indeed of the 
 newest manufacture ; (for garments then, like 
 friends, lasted a life-time) ; made something 
 after the form of a pelisse, and, opening at each 
 side, displayed underneath a petticoat of pea- 
 green, festooned with bows ; over this was a 
 sprigged muslin apron, trimmed at the pockets 
 and round the edges with ribbon of that fash- 
 ionable colour entitled Elliot's fire, or Elliot's
 
 167 
 
 red-hot ballets, from the gallant defender of 
 Gibraltar. Hair-powder, though not long after 
 deprecated with such success by the young and 
 fascinating Duchess of Devonshire as entirely 
 to procure its disuse, was never abandoned by 
 Lady Lovaine, who held as religiously to it, as 
 to her politics and her domestic medicine. On 
 the top of her head, fashioned to a cushion, 
 were lappets of lace, more curious than clean, 
 which supplied the place of a cap : but, being 
 past the days of her youth, her ladyship wore 
 a contrivance for the neck, the famous Gorge- 
 de-pigeon handkerchief; above which, a band 
 of narrow black velvet, confined by a knot of 
 jewels, still served to set off a neck, the origi- 
 nal grace and form of which were not, even at 
 Lady Lovaine's age, entirely effaced by time. 
 Thus arrayed, and adopting, with her com- 
 pany dress, a greater degree of courtesy and 
 dignity of manner, Lady Lovaine might be said 
 to grace the head of her table, and, like most 
 of the old school, she never appeared to so 
 much advantage, as when exercising those 
 duties of hospitality which are now almost 
 entirely superseded by modern custom.
 
 168 
 
 Lord Lovaine was, in the latter part of every 
 day, a beau of the old school ; a sloven of the 
 old school, in the morning. The habits of men, 
 and of women too, are more equable now, than 
 they were formerly. If men, Englishmen in 
 particular, never now seem to be full dressed ; — 
 if the cut of their coat be plebeian, their whole 
 air commercial, if the dingy black of a well- 
 worn cravat have superseded the fanciful grace 
 of a neck ruffle, or the neatness of a plaited 
 muslin stock ; — if all the insignia of rank, 
 powder, embroidery, and swords, be exchanged 
 for the close crop, the useful, warm, tight-fitting 
 waistcoat; the cane; and if the long trouser, 
 loose as well as long, be now invariably always 
 adopted ; and the boundary between the knee 
 and the leg be for ever lost, or seen only on 
 court days; if all the taste to be displayed in 
 knee-bands and buckles evaporate, from want 
 of an object to bestow itself upon ; — still a 
 more constant attention prevails to neatness, 
 cleanliness, and propriety in costume, than 
 formerly pervaded even the most refined so- 
 ciety. 
 
 Lord Lovaine, after revelling all the morning
 
 169 
 
 in a dressing gown and velvet night-cap, ap- 
 peared at the bottom of his own table, in a 
 blotting-paper-coloured suit, a well-powdered 
 peruke and tail ; the collar of his coat well 
 powdered too; a large cameo ring upon the 
 little finger of one hand; an onyx on the other. 
 Broken up as he was in constitution, and, it 
 might be said, in mind — but he had no mind to 
 break up — and, padded in every limb ; made up, 
 in short, of flannel and wash-leather ; his lord- 
 ship, or his lordship's clothes, still had an air of 
 well-bred decorum, almost to the point of fop- 
 pery. When he stood, were it but for a moment, 
 even upon his crutch, it was in an attitude, one 
 foot advanced before the other; the noble art of 
 bowing, now fallen wholly into disuse, and the 
 last specimen of which, genuine, was, I suppose, 
 to be seen in Beau Nash, was still possessed by 
 his lordship in some perfection. He had also 
 that quality, greatly degenerated among us, 
 of giving up his sole attention, or seeming to 
 give up his sole attention, to those who honoured 
 him, not whom he was supposed to honour in 
 receiving, but who honoured him in being his 
 guests. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 
 
 Captain Ashbrook, who appeared to form the 
 connecting link between one age and another, 
 attired himself, according to his custom, with a 
 scrupulous attention to existing fashions, yet 
 not in the extreme. There was, however, the 
 precision of the military man in the nicety of a 
 costume, which seemed, unconsciously to its 
 wearer, to have something of a regimental cut 
 about it. Lady Lovaine, as her quick dark eyes 
 glanced upon her nephew, fancied that his fine 
 hair was curled and dressed with more than 
 usual caution this day: his eye was brighter; 
 his cheek had a livelier tinge than usual. She 
 rather rejoiced at it : she disliked Mrs. Walde- 
 grave, and Mrs. Waldegrave's manoeuvres; if 
 he must marry a Miss Fortescue, Lady Lovaine 
 hoped it would not be Mrs. Waldegrave's Miss 
 Fortescue — "next to an old maid, she abomi- 
 nated an old maid's pet." She was not herself 
 disposed to undertake the new office of match- 
 making: indeed much of her natural rhetoric 
 was daily employed in railing at matrimony, as 
 a contract in which the advantage was all on the 
 side of men ; and she had a particular objection 
 to it among the poor, looking, as she did, merely
 
 171 
 
 at the immediate inconveniences of the wedded 
 state; however, if such an accident should occur, 
 as Captain Ashbrook's falling into love with 
 Rosabel Fortescue, there might be many alle- 
 viating circumstances, although she did think 
 her nephew would have been as well without 
 marrying at all. 
 
 Rosabel, fortunately for Lady Lovaine's 
 schemes, was looking to-day as well as any 
 match-maker, interested in her, could desire. 
 In conformity with her father's wishes — for he 
 thought her too young to adopt every prevalent 
 fashion — her hair, though turned back — for in 
 that the laws of costume were fixed as those of 
 the Medes and Persians — was not, however, 
 powdered, but hung, in all its native richness of 
 colour, in curls, about her neck, and was deco- 
 rated, on the present occasion, with a bunch of 
 violet-coloured ribbons at the top, a streamer or 
 two descending from the topknot, and mingling 
 with the chesnut tresses, to which such orna- 
 ments could add no beauty. Her dress, accord- 
 ing to custom, was long waisted, and pointed in 
 the front, without being confined by a band, 
 and much after the present mode. The great 
 difference was in the sleeve, which was tight, 
 I 2
 
 172 
 
 without a single plait, and, reaching to the 
 elbow, was garnished with ruffles, not, like Lady 
 Lovaine's, deep, and hanging over the arm like 
 the modern seduisans, but narrow, and quilled, 
 as it were, more modestly than ostentatiously, 
 upon the sleeve. Her gown was of a white 
 sprigged muslin, with an apron of the same, 
 clear, full, and starched ; her dress, made high 
 upon the shoulder, so as to give the form as 
 narrow and taper an appearance as possible, 
 was finished upon the top with a broad violet- 
 coloured ribbon, which, fastened on the bosom 
 with a large bow, served as a tucker. Rosabel 
 at present wore no ornaments, except a nar- 
 row band of black velvet, from which a cross, 
 suspended by a single strip, fastened round 
 her throat, shewed to advantage the white, 
 yet not bloodless, skin, and the roundness 
 of her graceful neck. Timid, not awkward 
 ■ — for her forwardness of manner had al- 
 ways been provoked by Mrs. Waldegrave's 
 tyranny, and was confined to her own circle, 
 — Rosabel now modestly endeavoured to aid, at 
 least, by being a good listener, the enjoyments 
 of those who thus kindly entertained her with 
 what seemed to her, disinterested benevolence.
 
 173 
 
 Dinner passed away quietly, but not without 
 its attractions to all parties. To Lady Lovaine 
 it had the unsophisticated gratification of being 
 necessary ; for her morning's exertions made 
 her fully able to enjoy it. Lord Lovaine loved 
 it also for its own sake ; he liked also to have 
 some one, to whom to send the bottle round. 
 Lady Lovaine was no patroness of the bottle, 
 and watched every glass of Madeira which he 
 took, and her evenings were frequently occu- 
 pied in descanting upon certain imprudences 
 of diet or beverage, which her lynx-eyes had 
 observed at dinner. His lordship took advan- 
 tage of the general flow of conversation, if con- 
 versation any thing could be called in which he 
 took a part, to deviate from a course of sweet- 
 breads, boiled chickens, and blanchmanges, to 
 which the tyranny of domestic medicine sub- 
 jected him. On the present occasion he was 
 quite valourous. 
 
 " Captain Ash brook, some wine with you. 
 — No, Wilson ; I don't take my lemonade 
 to-day. My lady, you see, who has taken her 
 diploma — he, he, he — has a conceit for my 
 having this decanter by me, filled with toast
 
 174 
 
 and water, and lemon-peel juice : so that I can 
 take a glass of wine without — he, he, he — bring- 
 ing on the gout — of Lady Lovaine's wine, I 
 mean. My lady, I'll take a little bit of that 
 fricandeau — do ye see ? — some gravy to it, if 
 you please." 
 
 " There's gout in that dish, my lord ; no- 
 thing so gouty as mushrooms. Ashbrook, I 
 always admire the simplicity of your diet." 
 
 " Nobody ever dies of the gout," said Lord 
 Lovaine, courageously : " it is quite a privilege 
 to have it — eugh !" he added, almost uncon- 
 sciously, as a twinge in his elbow reminded 
 him that he possessed this privilege of the 
 highly born. " Your father, Sir John, subject 
 to the gout, Miss Rosabel ?" 
 
 " I think not," replied Rosabel. 
 
 " Mrs. Waldegrave, I am convinced, has a 
 vast deal of suppressed gout about her," said 
 Lady Lovaine. " She would be much the 
 better for a regular attack — less irritable, and 
 less irritating ; and so would all who have any 
 thing to do with her." 
 
 There was a silence of some minutes, which 
 was broken bv Lord Lovaine's saying, with a
 
 175 
 
 shadow of a bow, and an attempt at a smile to 
 Rosabel, who, he thought, looked mortified by 
 this attack upon her aunt — 
 
 " I remember your mother, Lady Fortescue, 
 a vastly fine woman, Miss Rosetta — Rosetta 
 was her name, I believe — or Rosina. — No ? 
 Bless me, I was thinking of the new afterpiece, 
 and that sweet creature Miss — Miss — what — 
 
 hey ? — Miss Aye ! Miss Phillips — my 
 
 poor head! — aye, Miss Phillips: — it is Mrs. 
 Robinson in Perdita, is it not ?" 
 
 " Take my lord's plate away," as if by acci- 
 dent, whispered Lady Lovaine to her butler. 
 
 " It is my notion," continued Lord Lovaine, 
 quite astonished at his own powers of speech — 
 " excuse me, Miss Rosetta — but it is my notion 
 that you have Sir John's forehead — the For- 
 tescue brow. Now, has any one ever told you 
 that before ? Then I am right. Bless me 
 have I done ? Have you done, Ashbrook ?" 
 
 " Ashbrook knows that your constitution 
 like the affairs of the county, requires a scheme 
 of retrenchment," interposed Lady Lovaine. — 
 " I presume, Ashbrook, this leave of absence is 
 not to last long, and you will be hurried away, 
 like the rest of the world, soon ?" 
 
 " Lady Lovaine cannot endure seeing her
 
 176 
 
 friends in a state of repose," thought Captain 
 Ash brook ; and his manner was less bland than 
 usual, as he replied — " I suppose so." 
 
 " And where will be your next destination ?" 
 enquired Rosabel — their eyes meeting as he 
 answered his aunt's question. 
 
 " To America, I presume." 
 
 "To America! a most unhealthful climate," 
 said Lady Lovaine : " the people there, besides 
 being savages, which they are, have no notion 
 of ventilation in their houses ; they will have a 
 temperature of twenty degrees outside, and one 
 of a hundred within, their houses. Besides, 
 they are nothing but a collection of rebels, 
 thieves, vagabonds, and cut-throats." 
 
 " Miss Rosetta," interrupted Lord Lovaine, 
 who, when once a new idea occurred to him, 
 which was not an event of every day, rang 
 changes upon it for a whole evening — " Miss 
 Rosetta has her mother's dark hazel eye ; at 
 least, that is my notion. Is it yours, Lady 
 Lovaine ? There is a resemblance ; I am 
 confident of it." 
 
 " No one disputes it," said Lady Lovaine. — 
 " Ashbrook, there will be just day-light enough, 
 after you have handed me to the drawing-room, 
 to show Miss Rosabel the pictures. My lord,
 
 177 
 
 I have rung for Wilson to take charge of you. 
 I suppose you are fond of pictures, Miss Rosa- 
 bel ?" 
 
 " I am indeed," cried Rosabel, with a delight 
 she could not conceal. She longed to ex- 
 plore the gallery with Captain Ashbrook ; and 
 in a few minutes she found herself in a com- 
 pany of antiques : for the portraits, even of 
 Lord and Lady Lovaine, could hardly be ex- 
 empted from coming under that description. 
 Their resemblances, painted some fifteen years 
 before, had superseded those of their imme- 
 diate predecessors, who hung, along with other 
 worthies of the time of George the Second, to 
 the right and to the left of the present occu- 
 pants of Medlicote. The present Lord and 
 Lady Lovaine afforded, in respect of dress, a 
 kind of chronological continuation of the series. 
 In the Peer, the curled wig and the full ruffle 
 had yielded to the bag- wig, the tie, and stock ; 
 a row of powdered curls, which had stood the 
 full cannonade of an hour's powder puffing, 
 gave breadth and heighth to the brow T of the 
 present lord, whilst it could not impart expres- 
 sion ; and the imbecility of his small, light eye 
 shone forth even upon canvass. He was in a 
 i 3
 
 178 
 
 dress resembling a court suit, whilst a minia- 
 ture portrait of Lady Lovaine was depicted to 
 hang upon his breast, a sort of camera lucida 
 representation of her own tierce self beside 
 him. 
 
 Lady Lovaine was delineated in the period of 
 her youth, but she had never been known to 
 look under thirty. She was in a full costume, 
 and it was a very full costume in the early days 
 of George the Third ; the hair plaited, and fes- 
 tooned up behind, and festoons of satin, edged 
 with pearl, hanging down from the cushion on 
 her head, which was otherwise garnished with 
 a plume of ostrich features of mixed colours. 
 A bell hoop showed forth a petticoat too 
 elaborate for description, and trigged out with 
 bows of lace, festoons of beads, and other de- 
 vices ; a large bunch of flowers stuck upon the 
 left shoulder completed the furbelow. Her lady- 
 ship, too, wore, in conjugal reciprocity of feel- 
 ing, the portrait of her lord, in large pearls ; not 
 worn, indeed, "on high," but "set with modest 
 splendour in her ample zone." Her bare hands 
 and arms, for which she was famous, were sur- 
 rounded with black velvet bands, a clasp upon 
 each containing a small portrait. She was
 
 179 
 
 emerging from a summer-house, mysteriously 
 open in front, yet furnished with a red curtain 
 — in the distance was her ladyship's favourite 
 horse. 
 
 Captain Ashbrook did not attempt to arrest 
 the attention of his fair companion long upon 
 the portraits of his aunt and uncle, how- 
 ever valuable they might be to their owners ; 
 and he hurried over the whole series of family 
 pictures with little boys in knee breeches, pink 
 and white babies in the arms of their fond 
 mammas, heirs apparent and co-heiresses, 
 the seven ages of man and woman in every 
 possible variety, — to show Rosabel some valuable 
 originals of Vandyke or Rembrandt, or to 
 point out such of his ancestors as had figured 
 in war, or in any way adorned the annals 
 of their country. His military taste was all 
 apparent ; and even Rosabel thought he ex- 
 patiated too much and too long upon a plan 
 of the fortifications of Hereford, which his 
 ancestor, General Rudall, had held out in 
 Cromwell's time. But there is nothing so 
 soon caught by females as military ardour, 
 contrary, as it is, to the tendencies of their 
 sex.
 
 180 
 
 " After all," said Rosabel to Captain Ash- 
 brook, " you are glad you have chosen the 
 military profession, are you not ? — I should be, 
 1 am sure, if I were you." 
 
 " I was glad — I did enter into my first 
 campaign with very great ardour ; but, as a 
 man advances in life, as he begins to estimate 
 things by their intrinsic, not by their imputed, 
 value — he longs to enjoy tranquil and domestic 
 pleasures — to dwell among his own people — 
 to plant the few laurel leaves which he may 
 have gathered — at home." 
 
 " It is evident what he is dwelling upon," 
 thought Rosabel, as they returned through an 
 old deserted library and a billiard-room to the 
 drawing-room : " why should I not hope that 
 Charlotte may be the person ?" 
 
 Lord and Lady Lovaine were both asleep, 
 and neither of them were even partially 
 aroused for some hours; and certainly not fully 
 awake, before Rosabel, with the benefit of a full 
 moon, attended within by Lady Lovaine's maid 
 and escorted without by Captain i\shbrook, 
 on horseback, set off for Drayfield. It may be 
 easily conceived, how innocently the intervening- 
 space was enjoyed by the two young people,
 
 181 
 
 thus condemned to each other's society, in 
 turning over books of prints ; after talking for 
 half an hour over, but not concerning, a single 
 engraving ; discussing books, balls, and battles, 
 and — making themselves very comfortable 
 indeed.
 
 182 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ' ' I can bear being told I am in the wrong, but tell it me grently. 
 Perhaps I have been indiscreet." 
 
 Lady Mary Wortley Montague. 
 
 On the following day, Rosabel was greatly 
 startled by the appearance of her father driving 
 to the door in a phaeton, and looking unusually 
 austere and awful. He descended quickly ; 
 and, entering the little sitting parlour, said, 
 " I wish you, Rosabel, immediately to return 
 home with me — prepare yourself directly to 
 do so : Howard and his nurse will be sent for 
 presently." 
 
 Rosabel obeyed in silence. Like the prisoner 
 long habituated to one limited sphere, she 
 had now begun to cherish her banishment ; yet 
 the natural love of events, to which the human 
 mind is disposed, made her prepare for the 
 change of place with alacrity, stimulated by 
 curiosity. She was never too precise in her
 
 183 
 
 attire, and was generally, with justice, accused 
 of leaving every thing behind her. It was not, 
 however, long before she found her way to the 
 dairy to bid Mrs. Rivers a hasty adieu: the good 
 lady was plunged to her elbows in curds and 
 whey, and in an atmosphere so pure and cool, 
 and with such a look of cleanly contentment, 
 and with such a glow of cheerfulness on her 
 broad bright face, that Rosabel, before saying 
 farewell, paused for one moment to envy her. 
 But there was little time for regrets, or even 
 for the expression of gratitude ; and Rosabel, 
 well knowing that her father was not addicted 
 to patience, any more than most of his sex, in 
 regard to waiting, repaired quickly to him. 
 
 It was a glorious autumnal day, with a dash 
 of frost in the air, sufficient to call forth the 
 brightest bloom into the cheeks of beauty, and 
 to tinge the purple cheeks of the plough-boy 
 with a yet more vulgar red. Rosabel, as the 
 phaeton drove slowly away from Drayfield, 
 thought she had never seen the farm look so 
 tempting: the team, hot from their morning's 
 task, were just plunging their ponderous limbs, 
 unfettered, into a dark but clear pool, which, 
 fringed by willows, now bare, except here
 
 184 
 
 and there a trembling yellow leaf, stretched 
 along the side of the road. The long clear 
 whistle of the plough-boy, — the faint sounds of 
 the poultry yard, — the distant sheep bells on the 
 height, and the prattling voice of Howard in 
 the shrubbery, seemed to Rosabel like the 
 sounds of departed peace, the requiem of 
 passed contentment; such inconsistent beings 
 are we, that the scenes which we have almost 
 reviled, whilst constrained to abide in them, 
 acquire a new, fictitious value in our eyes when 
 the moment of separation arrives. 
 
 Sir John was perfectly silent as he drove 
 his daughter through the lanes which led to 
 Hales Hall ; but he could not avoid noticing 
 that Rosabel's head was turned incessantly 
 backwards, in the direction of Medlicote, and, 
 as the road wound another way, she leaned 
 eagerly to catch the last glimpse of some dis- 
 tant object. He then began : — 
 
 " Rosabel, when I consented — though it was 
 against my own judgment — at the persuasion of 
 your aunts, and in compliance, I was told, with 
 your own wish, to allow you to go to Dravfield, 
 I thought I could rely upon your prudence, and 
 your promise to me not to demean yourself by
 
 185 
 
 childish and indiscreet conduct. — I am sorry to 
 learn that I have been mistaken." 
 
 "How, Sir?" enquired^ Rosabel, almost 
 choaked with vexation at an attack so 
 unexpected and unmerited ; " what have I 
 done ?" 
 
 " Admitted, as I am informed, the visits of 
 Captain Ashbrook, Mr. and the Miss Warners, 
 and others; and, without permission, gone to 
 Medlicote, a circumstance for which I do not 
 altogether blame you, because I consider that 
 Lady Lovaine is, in some measure, responsible 
 for having tempted you there, unknown to your 
 aunts and myself ; — and, when there, you were 
 seen, I understand, rambling about, in certain 
 directions, with Captain Ashbrook. I am really 
 concerned and surprised that Captain Ashbrook, 
 a man whom I respect as a neighbour and as a 
 gentleman, should induce you to do what he 
 knows, in any case, would be unpleasant to me, 
 and what seems to be annoying to your aunts, 
 peculiarly, and, under present circumstances, 
 to your sister." 
 
 Rosabel knew not how it was, that the words 
 " under the present circumstances " gave her 
 more vexation than all the parental reproof
 
 186 
 
 previously conveyed in her father's admonitory 
 speech. She felt angry with herself beyond 
 measure, for her deficiency in generous feeling; 
 nevertheless, for some moments, she could only 
 say to herself — 
 
 " It is so, then— it is a settled affair- 
 Charlotte's happiness is certain — I am very 
 glad — I ought to be— so — my aunts will, in- 
 deed, rejoice !" 
 
 Sir John perceived her abstraction, and was 
 hastening to interpret it into an evidence of her 
 conscious impropriety, when Rosabel, rousing 
 herself, hastened to vindicate her conduct. 
 Although she was afraid of her father, she 
 had the greatest possible reliance upon his 
 justice, and, even now, upon his affection : 
 on whom else, indeed, had she to rely ? 
 If he did not love her, whom had she to 
 care for her? There is an instinctive feeling 
 in the minds of children, which leads them to 
 believe that their parents must love them until 
 parental misconduct, or evil councils, destroy 
 this happy dependance. Rosabel loved better 
 that her father should even lock sternly upon 
 her than that he should regard her proceedings 
 with indifference ; for if once such a calamity
 
 187 
 
 as that were to happen to her, she should feel 
 herself, indeed, a castaway. With a candour 
 and simplicity to which Sir John was little ac- 
 customed in his elder daughter, whose charac- 
 ter was of a close and cautious nature, Rosabel 
 told her father every thing which had occurred 
 to her during her residence at Dray field ; she 
 explained even her own feelings to him, and 
 accounted for her readiness to run into any 
 society that offered, by the unfounded, perhaps, 
 but natural impression, that she was not kindly, 
 though perhaps justly, appreciated at home — 
 that she was sent to be out of the way, during 
 a season of enjoyment — and that no one cared 
 for her, " except you, sir, and, perhaps, poor 
 little Howard," she added, as she finished. 
 
 Sir John, though the tear trembled in his eye, 
 looked neither to the right nor to the left, as he 
 replied to Rosabel's defence. He was not a 
 man to shew that he was melted by this appeal. 
 He saw, indeed, in the expressions of his child, 
 a manifest improvement in sentiment and prin- 
 ciple; and he rightly judged, that a species of 
 adversity which the acknowledged partiality of 
 her aunts to her sister presented to her, was 
 working its beneficial effects upon her character ;
 
 188 
 
 rendering her humble and grateful, and teaching 
 her to rely upon herself for the creation of her 
 own happiness : but the ordeal was severe, and 
 Sir John, as a parent, could not but feel indig- 
 nant at those by whom it was imposed. He re- 
 strained himself, however, but with the mere 
 expression, that he was satisfied with Rosabel's 
 explanation ; and the assurance, grave and mea- 
 sured, as was every thing he did, that the pre- 
 servation of his affection, as well as the degree 
 of esteem which she should receive from others, 
 lay within the compass of her own power. 
 
 The result of her explanations to her father 
 was, however, a determination on his part to 
 permit her, henceforth, to enter into the society 
 which the vicinity of Hales Hall afforded. This 
 boon was no great grant, nor extended to a 
 considerable range, the neighbourhood being by 
 no means populous, nor what is usually termed 
 gay. Like all other districts, it comprised, 
 as it usually does, the envied and the envious : 
 as in all country societies, usage had consti- 
 tuted a barrier — not at that period broken 
 through by improved liberality on one hand, 
 and intelligence and increased refinement on 
 the other — between families of the first class,
 
 189 
 
 and those of the second; a remnant of the 
 feudal system which elevated the Allodial Lords 
 into little monarchs, and caused the inhabitants 
 of county towns to be regarded as beings of 
 an inferior order ; a crew of Pariahs, which no 
 English Bramin ought to violate his caste by 
 admitting in his fellowship. 
 
 The Warners, as it has been already stated, 
 were not as yet ranked among the select fami- 
 lies, who constituted what was entitled county 
 society. Hitherto, however, the distance of 
 Mr. Warner's residence from Hales Hall had 
 prevented those inconveniences which an un- 
 equal acquaintance is often found to produce. 
 Even Mrs. Waldegrave could be condescend- 
 ingly civil to the Miss Warners when they had 
 to ride twelve miles over to Hales Hall, to call 
 upon Rosabel Fortescue; for Charlotte, with a 
 prudence worthy of enconium, had never yet ac- 
 knowledged the Miss Warners as her acquaint- 
 ance. They came to see Rosabel ; they were 
 Rosabel's friends, and it was of no use her be- 
 ginning an acquaintance with them — they could 
 not expect Miss Fortescue to notice them ; and 
 it " was not desirable to sanction as Miss For- 
 tescue's acquaintance those whom, in case of
 
 190 
 
 her settling in the county, she could not visit." 
 Such were the sentiments of Miss Fortescue 
 and her aunts, when a change in aiTairs took 
 place, in the very neighbourhood of Hales 
 Hall. 
 
 " Sister!" said Miss Alice one morning, " I 
 have something to tell you. Who do you think 
 has taken Sir John Barker's place upon the 
 Hill ? Such neighbours ! The Warners !" 
 
 " The Warners !" repeated Mrs. Waldegrave. 
 
 " The Warners !" echoed Charlotte in an ac- 
 cent of frigid contempt. 
 
 " Yes," resumed Miss Alice : " Mr. Warner 
 has had a legacy, and is getting on in the world. 
 He has been settled in the house for a fortnight ; 
 so you see how little we know how our neigh- 
 bours get on. The Churchills have called upon 
 them, and the Goodyers, and I hear the Per- 
 civals mean to do so, and of course they have 
 had all their old friends from Cheverton — but I 
 do suppose mean to give up those acquaintance 
 now." 
 
 "And very right," said Mrs. Waldegrave. 
 
 " For I really don't suppose one could breathe 
 in the presence of the Cheverton people," ob- 
 served Charlotte, who, like most young persons
 
 191 
 
 of shallow capacity, was out-doing her model ; 
 "but don't say any thing before Rosabel, aunt, 
 for I fancy every thing goes again." 
 
 "I wonder what my brother means to do ?" 
 cried Mrs. Waldegrave, quite hurried and over- 
 come by this event, so puzzling a conjuncture 
 of affairs. 
 
 " And what Lady Lovaine will do?" said 
 Alice, with a look of profound importance. 
 
 " It is very awkward for all of us, Charlotte, 
 dear ! I do not know which of us is to be pitied 
 the most. I, as the present head of your father's 
 house — so very conspicuous a situation — (how- 
 ever, we must all do what is thought to be right; 
 if it is thought to be right to visit the Warners, 
 the sacrifice must be made) or you, as Miss 
 Fortescue, the future head of your father's, or 
 of some other family; so much looked up to, as 
 you must always be, my dear." 
 
 " Certainly," said Charlotte, conclusively. 
 " Do you think it will be as well for me to ride 
 over to Medlicote,aunt,to consult Lady Lovaine 
 before w T e take any steps?" 
 
 " Why, no ! my lord has the gout, and my 
 lady has been so strange lately, she may take it
 
 192 
 
 into her head to say she would call ; and then, if 
 she sanctions it, we must go, whether we will 
 or not; and I should like to hear what the Pru- 
 nells intend to do, before I quite decide." 
 
 " The Warners dined there the other day," 
 said Alice. 
 
 " Did they ! and who did they meet ?" cried 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, eagerly, as if the whole re- 
 sult of the consultation depended upon that one 
 circumstance. 
 
 " That I forgot to ask," replied Alice. 
 
 "Forgot to ask! the very thing you should 
 most have seen to — you may always judge of 
 what people think of you by the persons they 
 ask to meet you ; being asked to dinner is nothing 
 — and who to ask to meet the Warners, in case 
 Sir John should ever have them to dinner, is 
 the difficulty. Mrs. Warner, if she had been 
 alive, was a passable sort of woman, to be sure, 
 and of a tolerable family ; but of another county : 
 but then that is not known hereabouts : nobody 
 asks who Mrs. Warner was, but what Mr. 
 Warner was and is?" 
 
 "And is, indeed!" said Charlotte, with her 
 cold, short blighting laugh — the laugh with
 
 193 
 
 which she had often provoked Rosabel to the 
 last pitch of irritation, in their sisterly disputes. 
 
 "Well, I am sure I don't know what to do!" 
 said Mrs. Waldegrave, as she quitted the room. 
 
 " Aunt Waldegrave is quite put out," said 
 Charlotte, calmly, without raising her head from 
 her work. 
 
 Circumstances, however, arranged that knotty 
 point which Mrs. Waldegrave had found too 
 difficult to settle. Sir John himself — unaided 
 by the counsels of the female part of the family, 
 to whose advice he had, indeed, seldom recourse 
 — had ridden over, three miles, to Mr. Warner's 
 new residence in person ; and before Mrs. 
 Waldegrave was at all sufficiently prepared for 
 such a catastrophe, the call was returned. Mr. 
 Warner had bustled through the suite of rooms 
 with his eldest daughter on his arm : Amy and 
 her brother had followed ; luncheon had been 
 ordered and even eaten, and the parties had 
 taken leave and entered their carriage before 
 Mrs. Waldegrave had wholly recovered from 
 the shock, or could dive into the motives which 
 had actuated her brother in this strange piece of 
 condescension. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 
 
 Like most ladies whose minds were but little 
 exercised, Mrs. Waldegrave and Miss x^.lice 
 were prone to attribute motives of some pecu- 
 liar character to every action, the intention of 
 which they could not immediately develop ; 
 and, in the course of sundry discussions, they 
 arrived at the conclusion that Sir John was se- 
 cretly countenancing some matrimonial scheme 
 between Rosabel, and some member of the 
 Warner family. In former days, before it was 
 thought necessary to trouble woman-kind with 
 much tuition, when the spelling-book was looked 
 upon as chiefly useful, because it was the key to 
 some book upon cookery, or to some circulating 
 library — in those blessed days, dress was the 
 study, love the occupation, and matrimony the 
 object of single women. Mrs. Waldegrave 
 and Miss Alice, having all their lives been 
 scheming for themselves in this matter, were 
 now fully adequate to scheme for others. They 
 wisely resolved to leave Sir John to himself. 
 
 " My brother has a large family," said Mrs. 
 Waldegrave; " it is very natural that he should 
 wish to part with some of them : it seldom hap- 
 pens that all the branches from the family stock 
 can be unexceptionable. However, I have no
 
 195 
 
 notion of Rosabel's marrying before Charlotte. 
 In the first place, Captain Ashbrook must be 
 brought to the point ; he has been trifling with 
 both the sisters, and he will, no doubt, make his 
 election in choosing Miss Fortescue." 
 
 " Charlotte," replied Alice, " is by far the 
 most of a lady of the two." 
 
 " Decidedly, sister ; decidedly. Charlotte 
 knows what is due to herself — Rosabel does 
 not. My brother is right — young Mr. Warner 
 will do well enough for Rosa ; and, in London, 
 there is no need, you know, of their being in- 
 troduced to my connections — poor dear Mr. 
 Waldegrave's connections ; — nor here, to the 
 Montagues, the Smiths, the Dickons's, or the 
 Knowles's." 
 
 " It will be as well, sister, then," said Alice, 
 " to allow Rosa to dine with the Warners on 
 Tuesday ; and we can join the ball in the 
 evening, with Miss Fortescue. You know my 
 brother has the road-meeting to attend to, and 
 cannot dine at the Hall, nor Captain Ashbrook 
 either." 
 
 " Rosabel will be too much set up, Alice," re- 
 plied Mrs. Waldegrave, doubtfully ; " the child 
 is even now half beside herself. Really, a 
 
 K2
 
 196 
 
 brother's family is quite a charge; no circum- 
 stances (however it was thought right, and one 
 must do what one believes to be right), or, as 
 I was going to say, no circumstances, sister, 
 would induce me to take charge of other peo- 
 ple's children, as poor dear Mr. Waldegrave 
 used to say — " But her colloquy was inter- 
 rupted, and poor dear Mr. Waldegrave's ob- 
 servation was lost to posterity. 
 
 It was Captain Ashbrook who broke in upon 
 the sisterly tete-a-tete. This was his second 
 call in the course of the same week ; and the 
 two affectionate aunts could only ascribe one 
 motive for such perseverance. Had they known 
 all — had they been aware that Captain Ash- 
 brook sauntered about the park — which, as a 
 neighbour, he was privileged to enter — often 
 met Rosabel in a certain direction, by a path 
 which skirted a wood, and led to a gentle rise, 
 whence she could just catch a glimpse of the 
 gable end of Ashbrook House — little Howard, 
 her sole companion — out of bounds altogether — 
 no witness of her conduct — had she known this, 
 she would have indeed thought a brother's family 
 a charge. These brief meetings, of course, were 
 wholly accidental. — It is so very awkward that
 
 197 
 
 estates will join. And there had been an old 
 usage, better honoured in the breach than the 
 observance, of the Ashbrooks being at liberty 
 to sport over the Fortescue grounds, and the 
 Fortescues over Ashbrook manor. A gun is 
 sometimes as good a pretext for a flirtation as a 
 fan. Captain Ashbrook was always so afraid of 
 alarming Miss Rosabel, that he looked around 
 him many times before he took aim : but his 
 dogs were sure to find her out, when in the 
 most secluded parts of the park, which she had 
 once considered as so lonely. Captain Ash- 
 brook's four-footed companions were certain, 
 several times a week, to come bouncing behind 
 her, followed by himself, all anxiety to see what 
 game they had started ; but without a single 
 bird in his possession. 
 
 Then, on the other hand, Howard was so 
 fond of the park ; he never would remain- 
 quietly in the pleasure-grounds ; every one 
 was tired of him, except Rosabel, and she was 
 obliged to give way to him for peace. Such 
 was her explanation to Captain Ashbrook, in 
 which he perfectly coincided ; and said it was 
 natural for a boy to love guns and dogs ; and, 
 indeed, Howard's taste for these manly posses-
 
 198 
 
 sions became every day more decided. All day 
 the nursery rang with the names of * Ponto and 
 Presto ;' while the poor old aunts were the only 
 persons unenlightened. The very servants 
 began to find out — although it were treason to 
 say so— that Miss Rosa, and not Miss Char- 
 lotte, was the cause of Captain Ashbrook's 
 frequent visits, and his liking the Fortescue 
 pheasants better than the Ash brook pheasants. 
 Even Rosabel herself had long since decided, 
 in her own mind, from sundry feminine obser- 
 vations, that Charlotte was not the object of 
 Captain Ashbrook's visits. Had she seen that 
 her sister's feelings were interested, she had 
 regretted this ; but Rosabel well knew that 
 Charlotte's heart was wholly safe. 
 
 By degrees, by these and other opportunities 
 of meeting, Rosabel began to feel that all her 
 burden of youthful care was lightened : no 
 matter that aunts were peevish, and her sister 
 cold — she had one new, firm, fond tie to life — 
 with which they intermeddled not. Every vex- 
 ation, each passing care, was alleviated; and she 
 had the happiness of being able to revere, as well 
 as to love, the object of her early attachment. 
 Captain Ashbrook was universally idolized ; his
 
 199 
 
 demeanour was so frank and honourable, his 
 acquirements so considerable, his manners so 
 refined, that, with Rosabel's love for his so- 
 ciety, there was mingled a deep enthusiasm for 
 his character — such an enthusiasm as influ- 
 ences, in a great measure, the future intellec- 
 tual features of a young female : for Rosabel 
 now read every thing with his sentiments — saw 
 every thing with his views ; she strove to dive 
 into his opinions, to conform to his ideas on all 
 subjects: she now sought to interest herself with 
 the studies from which she had hitherto revolted ; 
 she quickly found that she could not fully enjoy 
 Captain Ashbrook's conversation, nor be an 
 adequate companion to him, without some por- 
 tion of that cultivation of mind which he pos- 
 sessed. She dwelt on every word which he 
 uttered, and what was said, however trivial, 
 however careless, furnished her with reflection 
 for many an hour of ruminating solitude. 
 
 Certainly, the country is the place for che- 
 rishing all morbid affections of the mind, be 
 they love, or grief, or hatred. The long, quiet 
 morning, the still more unbroken evening, 
 allow such emotions to assert, and to continue,
 
 200 
 
 their full sway over the mind. When once 
 excited, such passions find fuel every where ; 
 and even the atmosphere of London, with its 
 fogs and its crowds, cannot extinguish them. 
 But to return to mv narrative.
 
 201 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " The haughty and opinionated will meet with the very con- 
 trary of what they expect, if, by such a carriage, they look for 
 esteem." — La Bruyehe. 
 
 Nothing in life is so comfortable as the cer- 
 tainty of one's own moral and intellectual supe- 
 riority ; and one of its most agreeable effects 
 is the confidence which it gives to condemn, in 
 every detail, the practices of one's particular 
 friends and nearest neighbours. Mr. and Miss 
 Warner were peculiarly blessed in this respect ; 
 and had the daily happiness of finding every 
 thing wrong which their nearest neighbours, the 
 Fortescues, considered right. Whilst the two 
 families expressed the greatest good will and 
 politeness for each other, and were, as Mr. 
 Warner gave it out every where, on the best of 
 terms, a gnome or sprite, hovering over the 
 dinner or tea table of each mansion, might have 
 heard colloquies of this description : 
 
 K3
 
 202 
 
 " What vulgarity those Warners sport," was 
 Miss Fortescue's observation. " Of course, 
 I was obliged to admire Miss Warner's new 
 bonnets ; but I never saw any thing so odious ! 
 — just like them — antiquated, dowdy, Chever- 
 tonish." 
 
 " And those shawls which they wore," said 
 Hubert, Sir John's second son, on whom his 
 father's hopes chiefly rested, and who had now 
 lately returned home from a public school ; 
 " were they not something like horse-cloths ? 
 — a relic of — " 
 
 " Mr. Warner's stock in trade," interposed 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, with a faint, short, feline 
 sort of laugh. I do believe nothing shews cha- 
 racter more than a laugh ; a chapter might be 
 written on the subject, as a supplement to 
 Sterne's Chapter upon Noses. 
 
 " I cannot think," said Miss Alice, " whom 
 they will contrive to muster at their party on 
 Friday : surely Mr. Warner would be much 
 better not to be giving parties — no married 
 female to conduct them, and — " 
 
 " Oh, no, no, aunt," said Hubert ; " for Hea- 
 ven's sake, let him do that ; 'tis the only thing 
 worth knowing them for. I declare I would
 
 203 
 
 not run the risk of having to bow to one of them 
 in London, were it not for the chance of a good 
 dinner there now and then." 
 
 " I hope," said Charlotte, as she fastened her 
 netting-silk, " that Mr. Warner won't talk 
 of ' in generally' at the head of his table." 
 
 " And that Miss Amy will not speak of 
 riding out in a carriage," added Mrs. W aide- 
 grave, " instead of driving out." 
 
 " I presume Rosabel will be in the third 
 heaven," pursued Charlotte, calmly, " with het 
 dear Miss Warners." 
 
 " Or in the third Even, as Squire Warner 
 hath it," interrupted Hubert. 
 
 " No ; now I don't believe he is quite so 
 bad as that," said Aunt Alice, apologetically. 
 
 Such was the tone of the Fortescues ; whilst 
 Miss Warner, at her father's tea-table, held 
 forth, touching her neighbours, thus : — 
 
 " I wonder Miss Fortescue chuses to go to 
 church such a figure — absolutely in such a 
 dress as my maid would not wear ; and poor 
 Rosabel trigged out in her mother's old things. 
 I like Rosabel ; but she is dreadfully untidy, 
 and really does not care what she looks like."
 
 204 
 
 " She is such a fine girl, it does not much 
 signify what she has on," said Henry Warner, 
 looking upon a newspaper, but his face suffus- 
 ing as he spoke. 
 
 " I think," observed Mr. Warner, with ma- 
 gisterial dignity, " that Sir John would do well 
 not to allow that third son of his to be hanging 
 and lounging about home — doing no good over 
 at Cheverton, where he rides every day, as my 
 clerk tells me, who meets him." 
 
 " He very often goes on commissions for his 
 sisters," said gentle Amy, drinking her tea 
 very fast, and very hot. 
 
 " It is quite melancholy," resumed Miss 
 Warner, " that Sir John should allow his fa- 
 mily to be so over-ruled, as they are, by those 
 two very illiterate and narrow-minded women, 
 his sisters ; positively, the younger ones have 
 had no education at all ; and, as for Miss For- 
 tescue, we all know the depth of her capacity ; 
 then, poor dear Rosabel — might have been a 
 very fine character, if — " 
 
 " t She is a fine character as it is," said Henry, 
 folding up the newspaper. 
 
 " Sir John — though he is Sir John — a man
 
 205 
 
 of family, and all that — I take to be a weak 
 man, though he is very civil and friendly as a 
 neighbour," observed Mr. Warner. 
 
 " He's quite the gentleman ; don't you think 
 so ? — and a very handsome man," cried Amy ; 
 " how much Rosabel and Mr. Hubert are like 
 him : but, I am told," she added, qualifyingly, 
 " that his partiality to his eldest son is as great 
 as to his eldest daughter." 
 
 " Shameful !" exclaimed Henry. 
 
 " Abominable!" said Phillis. 
 
 " The effect of the law of entail," said 
 Mr. Warner. " Birthright, in these old fa- 
 milies, is all in all. Sir Phillip, that will be — 
 an idle spendthrift — will come into a handsome 
 estate, and the younger branches be left, pro- 
 bably—" 
 
 " Without a shilling !" said Phillis. 
 
 " But that consideration ought to make a 
 father kindest to his younger children during 
 his life-time," observed Henry. 
 
 " Law, my dear Henry, is all-in-all ; and, I 
 may say, it is second nature — to me it is — al- 
 though I never had the advantage of a legal 
 education ; and I must say, that I quite approve
 
 206 
 
 of making a family, although the principle is 
 one of feudal times." 
 
 " I suppose it is a relic of feudal times," said 
 Phillis, " that all the congregation in Hales 
 church are to wait, standing in their pews, 
 until Miss Fortescue or her father chuse to 
 move out, after service. — Is that to your taste, 
 sir, in a house of prayer ?" 
 
 " My dear Phillis," said her father, " we are 
 not to expect every body to see with our eyes, 
 or to judge in the way you and I would judge 
 of things. Our notions, I believe, are not of 
 the common sort ; but there was Mr. Henry, 
 here, defending this very custom, in a company 
 of his friends, the other day." 
 
 " Not exactly defending it, sir ; I was only 
 saying that it allowed me more time for my 
 meditations, more leisure to admire the noblest 
 works of Nature — two very lovely girls." 
 
 "Two!" — exclaimed Phillis, indignantly — 
 " why, you do not admire Miss Fortescue, 
 surely ?" 
 
 " Her eyelashes are too light," said Amy. 
 
 " I am sure her figure is very good," argued 
 Henry.
 
 207 
 
 « Too thin and stiff," said Phillis ; " her 
 chothes look as if they were plaistered on her." 
 
 " And never, never," continued Amy, "does 
 one see the slightest variation on Miss Fortes- 
 cue's countenance — not even a blush — " 
 
 " Which cannot be said of Rosabel," added 
 Phillis ; " though I am very partial to her, I 
 could wish her to blush less — the defect of her 
 complexion is its being a little too high." 
 
 . " Not a shade — not the quantum of a 
 shade of a rose-leaf too high," cried Henry : 
 " though vivid, it is delicate, varying, even 
 fleeting. You may criticize Miss Fortescue, 
 Phillis ; but do leave her sister alone." 
 
 " I think it is high time to stop proceedings," 
 said Mr. Warner. " Do not set your young 
 heart upon a Fortescue, Henry ; there are 
 plenty of county matches better than that ; 
 and when you see your sister so respected and 
 noticed — courted by all the neighbouring fa- 
 milies — " 
 
 " I do not aspire to any one," said Henry 
 Warner, in a tone between sullenness and de- 
 jection ; " allow me, sir, to admire." 
 
 " Oh, certainly, sir, certainly young gen- 
 tleman. You show good breeding in admiring
 
 208 
 
 one of a certain quality ; you don't degrade 
 yourself by falling in love, even hopelessly, in 
 that quarter. Why it should be hopelessly, I do 
 not know : Miss Rosabel might do worse. But, 
 to tell you the truth, Sir John, though my 
 friend, has a large, needy family, badly brought 
 up, and — " 
 
 " I— I," said Phillis, "though I have the 
 greatest affection for Rosabel, would rather 
 see Henry die an old bachelor than have her 
 for a wife — out of such a family — brought up 
 with such ideas. But, look! just see — talk of 
 people, and you know the old proverb — there 
 they are ! — Rosa and her brother, riding over 
 to see us — coming now up the hill — Miss For- 
 tescue and Mrs. Waldegrave behind. Amy, 
 run out to meet them, and say that I am at 
 home, and how delighted I shall be to see 
 them." 
 
 It was in this state of affairs, when the in- 
 timacy between the Fortescues and the Warners 
 was supposed to be at its height, that Mr. and 
 Miss Warner had decided to give a dinner 
 party. All the Hales Hall party were invited, 
 and secured imprimis: and then came the anxi- 
 eties of getting suitable people to meet them.
 
 209 
 
 Conscious of being a little looked down upon 
 bv their neighbours, the Miss Warners were ex- 
 tremely anxious that their worthy father should 
 not sully the gentility of their table by the ad- 
 mixture of any of his old family friends upon 
 the occasion: the lawyer from Cheverton, for 
 instance ; or that anomalous compound animal, 
 half banker, half linen-draper, whom you shook 
 hands with at a side door in the capacity of a 
 gentleman, and bought a yard of tape from, at 
 the front entrance, his shop. All this fastidi- 
 ousness was as metaphysics to the worthy magis- 
 trate, whose notion of a dinner party was a good 
 feast, and a table crammed with as many guests 
 as it would hold. The refinements of modern 
 exclusiveness had not as yet disturbed the good, 
 comfortable, vulgar enjoyment with which a 
 good dinner inspired him. 
 
 His daughters, however, knew better, and 
 were aware, that their rise in society would be 
 for ever blasted, were they to mix, with ir- 
 reverent hand, the exalted Mrs. Waldegrave and 
 her clan with their cronies the Miss Olivers, 
 the belles of Cheverton, and even with some of 
 the card-playing, half-county, half-town ladies of 
 that borough, who sprang from a country stock,
 
 210 
 
 but had degenerated into town residents. Xo — it 
 was those standing dishes the Goodyers, Church- 
 ills, Smiths, Dickons's, and Percivals, establish- 
 ed county people, who were in the habit of 
 meeting each other in a round of state dinners, 
 from January until December, who must be 
 invited to meet the Fortescues. 
 
 How unlucky ! — the Goodyers were engaged ; 
 had been so for half a year, to celebrate a mar- 
 riage anniversary, fifteen miles off: the Church- 
 ills were going to Bath: the Smiths and Dick- 
 ons's had all bad colds. The Percivals alone 
 accepted the invitation. What was to be done ? 
 the table must be filled up; and then there was 
 a long discussion about who would, and who 
 would not, do to meet the Fortescues. In this 
 matter, Phillis, who pretended to despise such 
 weaknesses, was by far the most hyper-critical : 
 Amy was anxious to have some young men. 
 Henry some young ladies ; and Mr. Warner 
 took the opportunity of thrusting in a few of 
 his own especial favourites — friends of thirty- 
 years' standing; the very antiquity of whose ac- 
 quaintance with him at once proclaimed the 
 origin of his family. Some persons there were, 
 it was true, of almost suitable condition, who
 
 211 
 
 might have been invited ; but then, would it do 
 to ask them a week after the rest ? as they 
 might or might not hear that the Fortescues 
 had been asked a week ago, and that the 
 Goodyers, Churchills, Smiths, Dickons's, &c. 
 had refused ? 
 
 At last, however, the table was filled : Henry 
 had a parson friend or two from College. It 
 was decided to have some of the half-pay offi- 
 cers from Cheverton — hungry men, alway dis- 
 engaged — who looked and behaved like gentle- 
 men, to the extent of one bottle each ; and there 
 were some odd-and-end people, and a stray 
 single lady or two, staying on visits hereabouts, 
 that would look creditable. Miss Atkins, for 
 instance, who was only on a visit at Cheverton, 
 had been staying lately in town, knew Mr. 
 Sheridan, and had dined with Mrs. Piozzi, 
 and had rather a literary turn herself — not 
 that the Fortescues affected literature, but they 
 must know that it gave persons a certain rank 
 in society. 
 
 Every arrangement was, therefore, at last 
 completed ; when,lo! one gloomy morning there 
 came notes from the Fortescues : Miss For- 
 tescue was so sorry, some particular friends of
 
 212 
 
 her father were coming, the very day of Mr. 
 Warner's party, to the Hall, and it was not 
 thought right that Miss Fortescue should be out, 
 &c. Mrs. Waldegrave and Miss Alice must 
 decline for the same cause. Their regrets were 
 chastened by a dash of Fortescue dignity, as 
 much as to say, " the honour would have been 
 too great for you ; we withhold it, and you have 
 no right to complain." Sir John, through Rosa- 
 bel, begged his best compliments to Mr. Warner, 
 and the arrival of his friends would not have 
 prevented him — for he meant to have the 
 honour of introducing, and now hoped to be 
 allowed to substitute his very old and valued 
 friend, Mr. Lermont, formerly in His Majesty's 
 civil service, in a high official department, in his 
 place — but Sir John w T as grieved to find, that the 
 Meeting of the Trustees of the Roads, at New- 
 port, had been fixed for that day, and as Chair- 
 man he must attend, &c. 
 
 Before this blow was recovered, there came 
 a note from Captain Ashbrook, full of unfeigned 
 concern, that the necessity of meeting his 
 Colonel, twenty miles off, on that very day, upon 
 regimental business, quite indispensable, would 
 prevent his waiting upon Mr. Warner at dinner ;
 
 213 
 
 but that, as he understood from the young ladies, 
 there was to be a little dance in the evening, he 
 should ride back, as fast as possible, in hopes of 
 being in time for it, &c. &c. 
 
 To put off the party were impossible, how- 
 over much to be desired ; for messengers must 
 be sent ten miles in that direction, and six miles 
 in that, and the two half-pay officers were never 
 to be caught or overtaken ; they were always at 
 some ball, or some town or another, and it would 
 be endless collecting and inviting the same party 
 again. "And after all," said Phillis, 'now the 
 compliment is paid, I am quite as well pleased 
 Mrs. Waldegrave and Miss Alice don't come. 
 We shall be more at our ease." 
 
 "And Rosabel comes," said Amy, "and Mr. 
 Hubert." 
 
 — " So that we shall have quite the best part 
 of the family," added Henry. 
 
 " As to the pleasure of the thing," said Phillis, 
 " I think little of these great acquaintance ; and 
 I consider the Olivers quite as well in their 
 way as the Fortescues." 
 
 Henry and Amy were silent. 
 
 Mr. Lermont, who furnished the heads of 
 the Fortescue family, at this time, with their ex-
 
 214 
 
 cuse, had, mean time, arrived at the Hall. He 
 had been very earl)' in life known to Sir John, 
 who had received from him some kindness, 
 which Sir John's generous nature could never 
 forget, and which was now remembered when 
 the power to benefit had passed away from his 
 old friend. Mr. Lermont was twenty years Sir 
 John's senior, and had, for years, filled some 
 official situation, in which he had enjoyed con- 
 siderable patronage, but from which he had re- 
 tired in embarrassed circumstances. He waa 
 one of those benevolent persons whose life is 
 passed in performing some good action, but who 
 have the unlucky knack of doing more harm 
 than good. Though his ability to assist the 
 humble, by his interest with the great, had now 
 much declined, he still lived in the delusive idea, 
 that his influence was considerable, his good 
 word effectual. Some old, and steady, and high- 
 born friends there were, who, by their undimi- 
 nished respect, and desire to please him, contri- 
 buted to flatter his virtuous weaknesses, and to 
 make him still believe himself all-powerful : 
 and, among these, one of the kindest, and most 
 respectful, was Sir John Fortescue. 
 
 The news of Mr. Lermont's intended arrival,
 
 215 
 
 was succeeded, in the course of the same day, 
 at Hales Hall, by the intelligence, that the Good- 
 yers, the Churchills, the Smiths, and Dickons's, 
 those telegraphs of Mrs. Waldegrave's move- 
 ments, had all declined Mr. Warner's invita- 
 tion. 
 
 " Then I am sure, if Miss Churchill cannot 
 dine there, Miss Fortescue cannot," said Char- 
 lotte ; " don't you think so, aunt ?" 
 
 " My dear, I would not, on any account, do 
 a thing which the Goodyers and these other 
 people think beneath them. One must always 
 do what one believes to be right ; and I cannot 
 believe it to be right to go. Rosabel, you can 
 go, my love ; and Hubert : I do not consider 
 it quite the thing for Miss Fortescue to visit at 
 the Hill, until we see what other people do." 
 
 " Certainly not," echoed Aunt Alice. 
 
 And the excuses were speedily sent, expe- 
 dited by the further intelligence that Captain 
 Ashbrook was to be at a distant part of the 
 county on that day ; which was, indeed, a 
 powerful additional reason, and fatal to the 
 brilliancy of Miss Warner's dinner party. 
 
 At length, the inauspicious day arrived; and, 
 like many inauspicious days, turned out better
 
 216 
 
 than was anticipated. Rosabel, having the good 
 fortune, at last, to have worn out her mama's, 
 her aunts', and her sister's old gowns, was in- 
 dulged with a new dress, and set off in all the 
 consciousness of good looks, and a thorough 
 determination to enjoy herself. Mr. Lermont, 
 who had furnished so convenient a pretext for 
 the old ladies, was resolved to go also. He 
 had never been noticed for attention to his 
 attire, which had been, ever since the death of 
 a beloved wife, black ; of a cut as obsolete as 
 her memory now was. He was what is usually 
 termed a very plain man ; his face was of a 
 bright scarlet, which deepened into crimson 
 upon any exertion. His eyes were blue, and 
 kind, but not intellectual. It were difficult to 
 say which of the rest of his features might be 
 termed the plainest. He had not even the ap- 
 pearance of a gentleman, notwithstanding his 
 having lived all his life in good society ; and 
 his whole demeanour was so faulty, as to be 
 only redeemed from positive disagreeableness 
 upon further acquaintance ; when the excel- 
 lence of his motives, the purity and goodness 
 of his heart, atoned, and more than atoned, for 
 all external defects. From infants he had
 
 217 
 
 known and loved the young Fortescues. Ro- 
 sabel's earliest recollections were of his scat- 
 tering sugar-plums over the nursery table, and 
 calling them snow ; and Hubert's, the boy-like 
 pleasure which he had in stealing the old gentle- 
 man's cane, and Mr. Lermont's saying, upon 
 discovering the thief, " well, well, I have bought 
 you another ; so you will not take mine away 
 again." Since those days of indulgence and 
 delinquency, the elder of these three individuals 
 had lost a wife and an only child, and had en- 
 countered all the misery of broken-down for- 
 tunes and impaired strength ; and Rosabel and 
 Hubert had also been deprived of an indulgent 
 mother : but, as yet, life's troubles had scarcely 
 begun with them, nor did they know the full 
 value of that counsellor and friend, who, with 
 all her errors, could, in some cases, never be 
 supplied to them. 
 
 Hubert, after spending an hour and a half at 
 his toilet, and keeping Rosabel and Mr. Ler- 
 mont waiting, until even the gentle spirit of the 
 latter began to rise, came down stairs in the 
 full dress and full curl at that period adopted on 
 visiting occasions, and looking, and conscious 
 of looking, as handsome as his own vain heart 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 
 
 and the vain heart of Rosabel could desire. 
 They were much alike, and Rosabel might have 
 played Viola to his Sebastian ; and Hubert was, 
 as yet, untainted by the world's more serious 
 corruptions ; his light heart knew nothing but 
 her vanities ; his ambition was at present 
 honourable, his hopes of future distinction in 
 the military profession high ; bis feelings were 
 generous and affectionate, although ungoverned. 
 What an object of present pride for a parent to 
 look upon ! How grievous were the fall of so 
 promising a nature ! the blight of such hopes ! 
 the ruin of one now so happy and so guiltless ! 
 Happy, however, for the present, Rosabel 
 and her brother, and their elderly friend, were 
 ushered into Mr. Warner's drawing-room. The 
 party, notwithstanding all disappointments, was 
 by no means a small one ; for Mr. Warner, 
 regretting that a good dinner should not be 
 eaten, had filled in all vacancies, notwithstand- 
 ing the remonstrances of Phillis. The room 
 was awed into a temporary silence as the For- 
 tescue party entered — a silence broken only by 
 Mr. Warner's enquiries : — " How is my worthy 
 friend Sir John ? Sir John gone to the road 
 meeting ? Unfortunate ! Most happy, sir, to
 
 219 
 
 have the honour of seeing you — most happy, 
 sir, indeed. Phillis, my dear, Mr. Lermont, 
 a valued friend of Sir John's. This is my 
 daughter, sir ; and this young lady, ditto ; this 
 other one, ditto ; and ditto to two others in the 
 nursery. So you see, Mr. Lermont, we boast 
 as many olive branches as your friend Sir 
 John. 
 
 " — We have not quite the party we should 
 have wished to meet you," in a low tone. 
 " The worthy gentleman to your right is a son 
 of Mars. Stirring times these, Mr. Lermont : 
 another war soon. Our friend Captain Ash- 
 brook expects to be ordered off soon ; again to 
 the New World, I fancy. 
 
 " Miss Rosabel, you are quite blooming to- 
 day — quite a miniature likeness of Sir John, 
 Mr. Lermont ?"— 
 
 " And, like most miniatures, a little flatter- 
 ing," replied Mr. Lermont, with a remnant of 
 old gallantry. 
 
 «_Of Sir John in his best days. — Phillis, 
 are we ever to have dinner ? 'Tis as bad as 
 attending on a grand jury, I declare. Talking 
 of juries, Mr. Lermont, allow me to introduce 
 to you my son, Mr. Henry Warner, student of 
 
 L 2
 
 220 
 
 the Inner Temple, and speedily, Deo volente, 
 to be called to the Bar — not as a prisoner — he, 
 { le j — but as a pleader : a profession which I 
 very much regret, Mr. Lermont, not having 
 pursued ; it being my own wish, but, unluckily, 
 contrary to the desire of my progenitor and 
 progenitrix." 
 
 " Your father was not himself in the pro- 
 fession, I presume, sir ?" enquired Mr. Ler- 
 mont. 
 
 " Why — no. — Amy, my dear, see what 
 those people are about. Never can get dinner 
 up, nowadays, Mr. Lermont, as we used to do, 
 when our good mothers went dow T n to see the 
 first dish carried in themselves." 
 
 Mr. Lermont bowed in silent acquiescence. 
 He gave up his own accuracy upon the subject ; 
 but he had not remembered that it was a cus- 
 tom. 
 
 " And now, Henry, you hand down Miss 
 Percival. Mrs. Percival, allow me. Mr. Ler- 
 mont, excuse my giving you one of my daugh- 
 ters : ladies are a scarce commodity to-day — 
 am sorry I can do no better for you. Gentle- 
 men, you must pair off as well as you can. 
 Captain Phillidore, Miss Rosabel Fortescue —
 
 221 
 
 who is very partial to the profession, I believe," 
 said Mr. Warner, very pointedly, looking at 
 her, after the procession, with funereal solem- 
 nity, had marched down stairs, and seated 
 themselves. 
 
 " Phillis was right," thought Henry Warner ; 
 " her colour is certainly too high on some occa- 
 sions." 
 
 " Your brother, Mr. Hubert there, knows to 
 what I refer — a bit of a favourite, is he not ?" 
 
 Rosabel, quite relieved, smiled assent ; and, 
 as she leaned forward, a row of sun-burnt, 
 fox-hunting looking faces leant forward to look 
 at her. 
 
 If good manners consist in setting people at 
 their ease, Mr. Warner certainly excelled in 
 that respect. In a few minutes, the clatter of 
 spoons and forks was exceeded by the univer- 
 sal buz of conversation which ran round the 
 table. Rosabel, who had outlived her days of 
 childish effrontery, and was emerging into the 
 middle period of bashful ness, sat back, and 
 looked around upon the company. It seemed 
 to her that they were different to those whom 
 she had been in the habit of seeing occasionally, 
 though she could not define in what the differ-
 
 222 
 
 ence consisted. They were equally well dressed, 
 and fully as much at their ease ; but it was an 
 ease which repelled female timidity, and made 
 her long to retire into a corner : it was an ease 
 connected with a perfectly good understanding 
 with oneself: and yet there must have been a 
 consciousness of something wanting, as the 
 more aspiring of the party took every oppor- 
 tunity of raising themselves in general esti- 
 mation, by some indirect boast. Rosa- 
 bel thought she had seldom heard so many 
 great names brought forward for such slight 
 occasions. 
 
 Whilst Rosabel thus made her comments, 
 Hubert was happy in paying his devoirs to the 
 fair daughter of his host, Amy, who seemed 
 perfectly insensible to the presence of many 
 other of her usual train, and left even both the 
 military men to Phillis, who was in general 
 thought too clever, by Amy's beaux, for their 
 taste. Mr. Lermont was eating and praising 
 every thing, all benevolence and all warmth ; 
 only he could not give up his political prepos- 
 sessions to the democratic portion of the party ; 
 for at that time the spirit of democracy prevailed, 
 in a very uncommon degree, among the middling
 
 223 
 
 ranks of society ; and in this he was borne out, 
 to his heart's content, by the military gentle- 
 men. 
 
 Mr. Warner had, or created to himself, an ar- 
 duous duty at the bottom of the table ; for he was 
 what is vulgarly termed a fidget, and his official 
 functions had given him a taste for interfering 
 in every thing. He suspended the labours of 
 the carving knife from time to time, to disci- 
 pline his troops, as he called them — a body 
 guard consisting of his men servants, creatures 
 who looked as if they had jumped out of smock- 
 frocks, or fustian jackets, into their liveries. 
 The modern improvements in the management 
 of the table had not then rendered obsolete, 
 neither had they entirely banished, even in good 
 society, the necessity of some directions from 
 the top and bottom of the table ; and, as Mr. 
 Warner observed, aside, to his confidential 
 clerk, whom he had squeezed in on his left, 
 " since he had been a widower, every thing 
 had been left to him :" and, indeed, the duties 
 of hospitality, in his opinion, rendered a little 
 bustle essential. 
 
 " Come, John, look sharp ; clear away fast. 
 Where is James ? What are you all about ?
 
 224 
 
 — The tarts there, Peter ; make all uniform — 
 balance the dishes. — What ! no hot plates ? 
 —all frozen? — How's this? all's not right 
 below, Miss Warner."
 
 225 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 <( Oh, how this spring of love resembleth 
 The uncertain glory of an April day ; 
 Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, 
 And bye-and-bye a cloud takes all away '." 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 ROSABEL retired from the dinner table, fa- 
 tigued, rather than excited, and beginning to 
 agree with her aunts that she was as yet 
 too young for parties. The drawing-rooms 
 were, however, cleared for a dance, and the 
 sounds of Miss Warner's harpsichord, accom- 
 panied by the wailing notes of the fiddle, re- 
 minded Rosabel forcibly of the evening when 
 she had first heard the sounds of merriment 
 under Mr. Warner's roof, and had first met 
 Captain Ashbrook. She felt grateful to him, 
 grateful to the Warners, that they had received 
 her into their friendship, after that act of early 
 imprudence, to which, indeed, her young friends 
 never alluded ; and, whilst they were not, per- 
 haps, companions altogether to her taste, they 
 L 3
 
 226 
 
 had, as she thought, a claim upon her friend- 
 ship which could never be dispensed with. 
 
 It was indeed, as Mr. Warner said, a house- 
 warming. Fires blazed in every room, candles 
 burned, — tea, coffee, and hot negus, sent up 
 their fragrant steam. A lively tune struck up, 
 and Rosabel found herself quickly engaged to 
 open the ball with Mr. Henry Warner ; whilst 
 Amy and Hubert, too happy, stood next to 
 them. Miss Warner meantime headed another 
 set, with Mr. Lermont, who was too gallant a x 
 character to suffer his host's daughter to miss 
 this attention from himself. Like most elderly 
 gentlemen, he danced in capital time, and per- 
 formed his steps with great exactness — bowed 
 as he turned each lady — and showed off, to full 
 perfection, that virtue of the old school, a bene- 
 volent attention to the happiness of others. 
 Rosabel's eyes were affectionately fixed upon 
 the good old man, when a rumour that Captain 
 Ash brook had entered the room, made her 
 turn her head another way. 
 
 Rosabel was dancing with Henry Warner ; 
 but Captain Ashbrook must have been blind, 
 if he had not observed that every look and 
 thought were directed towards himself: — he
 
 227 
 
 saw it, indeed, with the deepest interest and 
 delight ; new views of happiness were opening 
 upon him : after nine or ten years of active 
 duty, in an arduous profession, he conceived 
 himself entitled to retire to a life of peace and 
 of utility at home, should inclination or duty 
 prompt him to adopt that agreeable alternative. 
 Like most men of virtuous habits and kind dis- 
 positions, he wished to marry, and to settle upon 
 his own estate: — and to this there appeared to 
 be no obstacle. His fortune was already large, 
 and he had every prospect of succeeding to 
 the estates and title of his uncle, before the 
 progress of years should prevent him from being 
 able to enjoy such additional honours. It is 
 true, that he had hitherto looked to an honour- 
 able career in his profession as the course in 
 life which, of all others, he would chuse ; but, 
 after a two years' residence at home, new in- 
 terests and wishes would spring up, and it was 
 allowable and natural that they should be in- 
 dulged. 
 
 Under these circumstances, Captain Ashbrook 
 had become attached to Rosabel, without any 
 other anxiety on the subject than the doubt of a 
 full return. For he considered that a young
 
 228 
 
 lady in her situation, unkindly treated as she 
 was at home, might be apt to mistake gratitude 
 for love, or to construe a desire to be eman- 
 cipated from domestic controul into a decided 
 preference. His was not the impetuous fancy 
 of a boy, who would carry off the prize at any 
 risk ; but the refined, and steady, strong attach- 
 ment of a man of reflection and experience, 
 tenacious, like all persons of delicacy, as to a 
 full and sincere return ; and, like all the sen- 
 timents of matured and cultivated minds, far 
 deeper, far more intense, than the flickering 
 prepossessions of extreme youth. Perhaps, no 
 man is ready to fall in love until he is thirty : — 
 and it is probably owing chiefly to this, — that 
 women have, in general, a far better chance of 
 felicity in selecting men a good deal older than 
 themselves, as husbands, than when they trust 
 their happiness with men neither older nor 
 wiser than themselves, and who have not yet 
 learned to estimate, as it should be estimated, 
 the female character. 
 
 Rosabel had exchanged Mr. Henry Warner 
 as a partner for Captain Ashbrook, when a 
 rumour that Sir John was arrived, again drew 
 her attention to the door. Her father had been
 
 229 
 
 standing there for some minutes ; and as she 
 met his glance, it seemed to her that she had, 
 on the present occasion, nothing to fear from 
 his displeasure. She was relieved, because she 
 remembered his cautioning her not to cultivate 
 an intimacy with Captain Ashbook, which might, 
 under present circumstances, be unpleasant — 
 and yet why unpleasant ? — to Charlotte. But 
 Sir John's feelings, as he gazed upon his 
 daughter, were any thing but those of dis- 
 approbation. It was some years since he had 
 seen her dance ; and as she entered into that 
 diversion with all the elasticity of youth, her 
 father's eyes were moistened with delight and 
 pride. Before, he had seen her only as a child; 
 but now she was rising into womanhood, the 
 playfulness of a girl exalted by a something of 
 modesty and dignity, and an expression of in- 
 telligence mingled with the beaming sweetness 
 of her laughing eyes. She was one upon whom 
 a parent's gaze might well be riveted. The 
 Spectator mentions a pretty incident of this 
 sort — doubtless, borrowed from life — for what 
 father's or mother's heart could not supply a 
 thousand such passages ? 
 
 Sir John looked, and looked again, at
 
 230 
 
 Captain Ashbrook and his daughter — and a 
 mist seemed to be cleared away from his 
 mental vision. If he had not been told that 
 it was Charlotte, to whom Captain Ashbrook 
 was paying his attentions, he should have said 
 that it was Rosabel — not that he would have 
 thought much upon the subject; men of a 
 certain description, grave men of business, and 
 particularly fathers, are very obtuse in such 
 matters. The days of imagination are over 
 with them ; and they wonder what their sons 
 and daughters mean by such fooleries as falling 
 into love, and why they cannot be happy as 
 they are. Mr. Warner, in this respect, re- 
 sembled Sir John — both these gentlemen being 
 deprived of that mediating character, a wife, 
 who, to pave the way to certain proposals, 
 can take opportunities of hinting that " Mr. A. 
 is looking very kindly upon Miss B." — " Wil- 
 liam is riding over very often to see Susan " — 
 " Captain D — calls very frequently — supposes 
 either for Ellen or Henrietta." By such hints the 
 mind of that blind mortal, a father, is generally 
 enlightened, though it is often a difficult task to 
 instil some notions into it. Sir John, somewhat 
 puzzled, and thinking more on the subject of
 
 231 
 
 love than he had done for five and twenty 
 years, drove silently home with Mr. Lermont, 
 Rosabel, and Hubert; nor did he hear the 
 praises which good Mr. Lermont was lavishing, 
 in the plenitude of his kindness, upon Mr. War- 
 ner and his family, down to the little ones, who 
 came in for almonds and raisins after dinner. 
 
 Sir John felt, or endeavoured to feel, the 
 same affection for both his elder daughters. He 
 had been happy when he heard that Charlotte 
 was thought likely to make so good a settle- 
 ment as a marriage with Captain Ashbrook 
 might be considered. He thought he might 
 even be better pleased, if Captain Ashbrook's 
 choice fell upon Rosabel, so that Charlotte 
 were not disappointed. His own circumstances 
 had been for many years in a great degree 
 embarrassed ; his eldest son had been very 
 extravagant, and was still a burden upon his 
 father : Hubert, alone, seemed likely to get 
 out into the world advantageously, and to 
 relieve his father of any expense for him ; 
 for he had already obtained a commission. 
 Under these circumstances, it was, indeed, 
 desirable that Sir John should marry his 
 daughters advantageously.
 
 232 
 
 It so happened that Mr. Lermont and 
 Mrs. Waldegrave met, in innocent tete-a-tete, 
 the following morning before breakfast. Good 
 Mr. Lermont was full of the events of the fore- 
 going day : — " Mr. Warner was so hospitable, 
 the Miss Warners so comely and affable ;" 
 but no one looked to his mind so well as his 
 favourite Miss Rosa ; " and it is my fancy, 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, that Captain Ashbrook is of 
 the same opinion ; and that he looks very kindly 
 upon my young friend. But, indeed," added 
 the old man, his ruddy face growing rubicund 
 as he spoke, " who can wonder at that ? You're 
 silent — Ah, my dear madam, it requires no con- 
 juror to guess that you're fearful of appearing 
 too proud — too fond, as, indeed, most aunts and 
 uncles are. It was a common observation of 
 my dear, late, lamented mother, that aunts were 
 more apt to spoil their nieces, even than 
 mothers their daughters." 
 
 "Your mother, sir?" cried Hubert, in 
 astonishment — had you a mother ? I mean to 
 say, within the last forty years or so ?" 
 
 " My worthy, and I will add, since you must 
 have it so, my venerable mother deceased just 
 three years ago ; and it's not probable that I
 
 233 
 
 should forget her sayings and her old saws di- 
 rectly. — But to come back to the point, — Miss 
 Rosa's far too young to be married as yet ; 
 but then it would be expedient for her to be 
 looking forward to it." 
 
 " That all women do in good time," observed 
 Hubert. 
 
 " But, I presume," said Mrs. Waldegrave, 
 " it is Miss Fortescue's turn to be thought of 
 first ; and I suppose, sir, you would, in justice, 
 in propriety, wish it to be so ?" 
 
 " Certainly — that is, if the gentlemen and 
 the young ladies are of the same mind," 
 replied Mr. Lermont. 
 
 " I wish to Heaven he would take Charlotte," 
 said Hubert. " She's grown mighty high and 
 fine lately — can't associate with this person — 
 can't notice that — must'nt sanction a third — so 
 that altogether, with this handful of acquaint- 
 ance that we have, we have not half a dozen 
 acquaintance worth knowing." 
 
 '• You forget, Hubert," said Mrs. Walde- 
 grave, the Churchills, the Goodyers — " 
 
 " The Smiths, and Dickons's, and the Per- 
 civals," added Aunt Alice, eagerly. 
 
 " Pshaw ! — toujours perdrix — all as old as
 
 231 
 
 Methusalem, and as old-fashioned as Moses — 
 the Churchill s, a stupid old couple, who have 
 not imbibed a new idea for these twenty 
 years— the Miss Goodyers, two old maids as 
 stiff and thin as a pair of silver candlesticks 
 — the Percivals, fat easy people, always 
 half asleep — moving bolsters — talking feather- 
 beds !" 
 
 His two aunts were struck dumb with horror 
 and amazement. 
 
 " I am shocked, Hubert, to hear you talk so 
 of your father's family friends," exclaimed Aunt 
 Alice, as soon as she could regain her breath, 
 and almost gasping. 
 
 " — Of the proper set — and the only set in 
 which you ought to visit, Hubert," added Mrs. 
 Waldegrave. 
 
 " And of some very worthy persons too, I 
 dare to say," said Mr. Lermont ; " but young- 
 gentlemen of Master Hubert's age are apt to 
 be particular." 
 
 " When you have seen as much of the world 
 as we have," continued Aunt Alice — 
 
 " And as much good society," added Aunt 
 Waldegrave — 
 
 " And as many years, and as much wisdom,
 
 235 
 
 Aunt Alice," said Hubert. — " And then those 
 stupid old Lovaines," he began again — 
 
 This was absolute sacrilege ; and though 
 Hubert, a spoiled, bold youth, might usually 
 say any thing, the person of Lord Lovaine and 
 " my lady " were sacred as Majesty itself. 
 Mr. Lermont saw the lowering storm, and 
 hastened to avert it, by bringing back the 
 conversation to an agreeable subject. 
 
 " Well, grant that Miss Charlotte's to be 
 married first," he said (laying his finger on 
 Mrs. Waldegrave's arm); " for I always com- 
 mend, in this respect, the conduct of Sir 
 Thomas Moore, our first lay-chancellor — high- 
 chancellor, who paid his court to two gentle- 
 women, and married the elder, though he pre- 
 ferred the younger ; but he considered that the 
 elder sister's feelings might be wounded if he 
 married her younger sister first: and who knows 
 but that Captain Ashbrook may act in the same 
 gentlemanlike way." 
 
 " The greater fool he, if he does," said 
 Hubert. 
 
 " Captain Ashbrook, if he has eyes, ears, 
 senses, must prefer Charlotte," said Mrs. 
 Waldegrave — " Rosabel is not fit to be the
 
 236 
 
 wife of a sensible man, and is so immeasurably 
 behind her sister." 
 
 " So much less of a lady," interposed Alice — 
 the usual burden of her song. 
 
 Mr. Lermont fidgetted, and turned about 
 from one sister to another, too polite to con- 
 tradict, too sincere to agree, and too anxious 
 to assist and benefit all parties, to drop the 
 subject ; and the good old man could not be 
 persuaded, against his reason, that marriages 
 were to be made by the rule-of-three, or that 
 Captain Ashbrook would fall in love at Mrs. 
 Waldegrave's bidding." 
 
 " I'll tell you what, good ladies — I am fond 
 of Miss Rosa, and I am equally fond of Miss 
 Charlotte, too," — this was one of those amiable 
 little fibs allowed by the old school of minor 
 morals, — " and one may suit one taste — and 
 one, another. Miss Charlotte's fair and delicate 
 — slight and genteel — I admire her vastly — 
 she's more, doubtless, to many people's taste 
 than Miss Rosabel, — who's quite a gay, random, 
 thoughtless little lass," he continued, his man- 
 ner warming into a natural enthusiasm as he 
 spoke. " She is not by near so composed a 
 person as her sister; but she's just such a gene-
 
 237 
 
 rous, lively, artless little body, that every one 
 loves ! — and I do, I am sure," he concluded, as 
 he walked to and fro, " for her own sake — for 
 her good father's — for her poor mother's, whom 
 she much resembles." 
 
 " My mother was a good deal taller," said 
 Hubert, in a serious, subdued tone, " and much 
 handsomer, I know." 
 
 " My poor dear sister was accounted a 
 beauty — which no one can mistake Rosa to 
 be," said Mrs. Waldegrave, " especially as 
 she has no manners; but she improves, and, 
 all things being over-looked and forgotten — 
 the story to which I allude will do for our 
 private ear, sir — Rosa might have her chance 
 with Captain Ashbrook ; but then, we rather 
 suspect she has set her heart in another quar- 
 ter, somewhere to the eastward," she added, 
 looking towards Mr. Warner's new residence. 
 
 " Aye, sure ! Well, I thought I observed 
 something of that," said Mr. Lermont, stopping 
 short : " he's a fine creature too, and very well 
 behaved, and well-minded as to his politics too ! 
 he took part with me in our disputes after 
 dinner, as to the tea question, when — " 
 
 " Young Warner I suppose you are thinking
 
 238 
 
 of, sir ?" said Hubert ; " you are not fixing upon 
 the widower for my sister, are you ? No — 
 leave the old fellow and his dozen of children 
 for Aunt Alice here." 
 
 " Good patience, Hubert !" — 
 
 — " If my brother would ever consent," 
 interposed Mrs. Waldegrave. 
 
 " Consent! — could he have the heart to re- 
 fuse ?" said Mr. Lermont. " And depend on 
 my good offices, madam, if all be convenient, 
 and if the young gentleman prove worthy of 
 Rosabel. Ah ! who could but be kind to her ! 
 There she comes, bounding along, with the 
 child in her hand — God bless her very heart ! 
 — how like she steps to her father !" — and the 
 worthy gentleman hastened out of doors to meet 
 his young favourite.
 
 239 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 And here we wander in illusions ; 
 
 Some blessed power deliver us from hence!" 
 
 Comedy of Errors. 
 
 It cost Mr. Lermont some hoars of reflec- 
 tion, how to forward the supposed wishes of his 
 young friend Rosabel, whose interest with her 
 father he understood to be at a low ebb — a 
 circumstance attributable, according to Mrs. 
 Waldegrave, to Rosabel's early acts of insub- 
 ordination ; especially to her flight from an in- 
 dulgent home. Mr. Lermont listened to all 
 the details of the case given him by Mrs. Wal- 
 degrave, with repeated exclamations of " that 
 was wrong, indeed ; poor thing, she's misled, 
 you see — very imprudent — a sad business, poor 
 dear ! Well, you brought her home again, and 
 all was forgiven — that's right." 
 
 Having heard all this, it became evident to 
 him— first, that Rosabel had, from that very
 
 240 
 
 period felt a considerable interest in young 
 Henry Warner ; which had been fostered by 
 her intimacy with his sisters ; brought to a crisis 
 by his accident at the farm ; and, finally, blown 
 into a flame at Mr. Warner's house-warming. 
 This conviction accounted for Rosabel's anxiety 
 to go to the party at the Hill, and for many other 
 little observations on her part on the family 
 there. " She loves them all, poor thing," 
 thought Mr. Lermont, " and why should she 
 not? — they are none of them in the leather way 
 now ; and, if Rosa can make up her mind to 
 it, our objection would be, as the old song savs, 
 ' all leather and prunella.' " 
 
 Then, as to Captain Ashbrook, it was evi- 
 dent, according to Mrs. Waldegrave, that he 
 was looking after one or other of the young 
 ladies, and all the country gave him to Miss 
 Fortescue ; and it would be very hard upon 
 her, poor girl, to see her younger sister pre- 
 ferred by both — the only two beaux in the 
 neighbourhood. So, although Mr. Lermont did 
 not give up the opinion, that Captain Ashbrook 
 had a little preference for Rosabel, he quite 
 agreed with Mrs. Waldegrave as to the pro- 
 priety of putting Miss Fortescue forward upon
 
 241 
 
 all occasions in his company. Indeed, the 
 worthy gentleman had such a confidence in his 
 own influence, which it was his weakness to 
 think paramount, that he felt assured he could 
 advantageously put in a word for poor Miss 
 Charlotte with the Captain — turn the current 
 into the right channel, and benefit all parties, 
 to his heart's content. Long accustomed to the 
 business of doing favours, interceding for fa- 
 vours ; influencing this great man, persuading 
 that ; writing to persons in power, promising 
 assistance to those not in power ; — this bene- 
 volent person now undertook, during his re- 
 tirement from arduous duties, that most ar- 
 duous of all undertakings — the management 
 of a love affair — a species of business in which 
 his experience lay some thirty years back ; so 
 that the difficulties of the only transaction of 
 the sort, in which he had ever had any personal 
 interest, were effaced from recollection — its 
 pleasures only remembered, its anxieties 'clean 
 forgotten." 
 
 Armed with the best intentions, and restless 
 from the excitement of wishing to do some- 
 thing, the old gentleman fidgeted in and out 
 of the house, several mornings, on the look 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 
 
 out, in case Captain Ashbrook or Henry War- 
 ner should call. It was his scheme to intercept 
 the former, and, in the course of a turn in 
 the shrubbery, before entering the house, to 
 manage to introduce an encomium upon Miss 
 Fortescue's domestic virtues, her love of flow- 
 ers, and of children ; his hopes of seeing her 
 well married before he died — how well her mo- 
 ther had become the head of her table, &c. &c. 
 Then, with regard to Henry Warner, his 
 cue was, to see that he had access to the lady 
 of his heart, who was seldom in the state rooms 
 of the Hall, but immured in some dressing- 
 room, study, or school-room wing of the build- 
 ing. It would also ba necessary, Mr. Lermont 
 thought, for him to stand about, to give coun- 
 tenance to the young people, to look as if the 
 call were on him, — to smooth Sir John's anger 
 in case of an interruption. 
 
 Accordingly, for a day or two, Mr. Lermont 
 was unusually idle, pottering about with his 
 hands behind him, his head turned back, and 
 his eyes towards the park gate. Poor old gen- 
 tleman, he could not, for the world, imagine 
 any affair going on well without him. How- 
 ever, for two days, his office of match-maker
 
 243 
 
 was a sinecure. Captain Ashbrook came not, 
 neither did Henry Warner ; and Mr. Lermont 
 began to find an accumulation of other busi- 
 ness upon his hands ; for he was a man of a 
 most extensive correspondence. Every day, at 
 breakfast, when the post bag was brought in 
 and unlocked, large pacquets, franked by dif- 
 ferent persons, high in office, or by noblemen ; 
 others, post-paid, as if by suitors, were handed 
 over, with Sir John's accustomed speech of — 
 " Well, sir, as usual, you have as many letters 
 as the secretary of state." And then the old 
 gentleman was usually all the morning an- 
 swering these letters, taking copies of what he 
 wrote, enclosing and re-enclosing, and never 
 happy if he could not read his elaborate 
 epistles over to some one or other. Sir John 
 usually got out of the way ; or, if he listened 
 to them, blamed his old friend for taking so 
 much trouble, often for persons of whom he 
 knew little. Mrs. Waldegrave's cold approval 
 and doubts did not suit the warm-hearted, 
 zealous old gentleman ; of Charlotte, and her 
 cold freezing manner, he was afraid : Miss 
 Alice was always busy remodelling, or causing 
 to be remodelled— or, as Lady Lovaine called 
 
 M 2
 
 244 
 
 it, intriguing with her caps and gowns : Hubert 
 was apt to make too free ; but Rosabel was 
 the person — Rosabel, with her thoughts fixed 
 upon other matters, found it easy to assume 
 the attitude of a listener ; and fancied, perhaps, 
 that she listened, whilst she was only thinking. 
 Rosabel always approved ; he could never go 
 too far in his generous schemes for Rosabel : 
 she was no critic, either as to style or ortho- 
 graphy — never questioned the perfect wisdom 
 of what he said — laughed, when she found that 
 a witticism was intended to enliven the other- 
 wise dry disquisition on business ; and was 
 melted, if not into tears, into something resem- 
 bling them, at her worthy friend's climaxes — 
 his addresses to the feelings — his perorations, 
 which sometimes occurred in the postcripts. 
 She never doubted, either the extent of his 
 influence, or the duration of those friendships 
 which he had formed when he lived in the world, 
 and was useful to the powerful : consequently, 
 she entered into his hopes and wishes in a 
 manner as sanguine as his own ; and she sym- 
 pathized in his disappointments with an indig- 
 nation which her old friend never indulged, 
 and perhaps never felt ; for it was as difficult
 
 245 
 
 to him to blame, as it is to many others to 
 praise. Rosabel, therefore, usually sat with 
 Mr. Lermont the greater part of the morning ; 
 for her hurried, imperfect education, was now 
 considered as completed ; and, as she was a 
 tolerable hand at sealing and folding letters, 
 some sort of utility was made the plea for her 
 sitting with Mr. Lermont. 
 
 Their sanctum, or, as Sir John called it, their 
 office, consisted of a small sitting room at the 
 extremity of the suite of apartments, and had 
 once been known by name, now exploded, of 
 the breakfast parlour. There Lady Fortescue 
 had given her orders to the housekeeper ; set- 
 tled, or perhaps unsettled her accounts, in which 
 the items "sundries," or, in other words, "profit 
 and loss," formed a conspicuous feature. After 
 her death, it had degenerated into a sort of work 
 room, so called by courtesy, but actually play 
 room, for the Miss Fortescues: for Sir John had 
 quite abandoned it for any purposes of his own, 
 and seldom entered an apartment where the 
 image of a beloved and still secretly lamented 
 wife seemed peculiarly to prevail : it is in such 
 intimate recesses that the bereaved heart dares 
 not to trust itself. It was now fitted up as a
 
 246 
 
 room especially for Mr. Lermont : Mrs. Walde- 
 grave not choosing to have him in the drawing 
 room ; Sir John dreading the interruption of his 
 presence in the library. 
 
 Mr. Lermont, however, delighted in the place 
 allotted to him, for many reasons; it reminded 
 him of Lady Fortescue — and he could bear the 
 remembrance to be hourly forced upon him — 
 and its dullness and smallness were a safeguard 
 against the too frequent visits of Hubert, How- 
 ard, and the younger members of the family, 
 who made free with his pig-tail, tossed his slip- 
 pers out of the window, scribbled over his paper, 
 and made seals with his wax. Rosabel delighted 
 also in the little dull, dark room, the green 
 room, as it was now called ; for the solitary 
 hours which she had spent in it, often no better 
 employed than in watching the swallows build 
 in the corner of the window, even these hours 
 of loneliness had endeared it to her, before 
 another cause of attachment to it had entered 
 within the scope of her girlish comprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 The window of the room, shaded by the cle- 
 matis and honeysuckle, opened on the ground, 
 and upon a path, which, skirting for some little
 
 247 
 
 distance by the side of a rich shrubbery, was 
 soon lost in the thicker woods of the park. 
 This park, however, continued, until you might 
 gain the boundary of Ashbrook, and it hap- 
 pened, by some strange coincidence, that it was 
 a favourite walk both with Captain Ashbrook 
 and with Rosabel. It was pleasant, too, as Mr. 
 Lermont himself observed, to see from his sanc- 
 tum the blue smoke of Ashbrook House rising 
 behind the trees: it gave such an air of com- 
 fort to the scene : " not but that I think," 
 said the old gentleman, fearful that he had not 
 the entire sympathy of Rosabel, — " not but that 
 I think the hill a finer place." 
 
 One busy morning, when Mr. Lermont, im- 
 mersed in letters which must go by this day's 
 post, his fingers and neckcloth stained with ink, 
 for he was the most untidy writer possible, a 
 pen behind his ear, and a candle which had been 
 burning an hour by his side — in all this business 
 and confusion, two words, with some people 
 synonymous terms — he was surprised by a visit 
 from Captain Ashbrook, who was ushered at 
 once into Mr. Lermont's sitting room, as he en- 
 quired for that gentleman in particular. Mr. 
 Lermont had been so taken up with the affairs
 
 248 
 
 of half-a-dozen other persons, that he had 
 almost forgotten, by this time, the necessity 
 there was of settling the business of Ashbrook 
 versus Warner, or Warner versus Ashbrook. 
 The whole concern, however, immediately 
 rushed into his mind, especially whilst glancing 
 at Rosabel, who was, as usual, in his sanctum — 
 he regretted that it was not Charlotte— and, in 
 the interim between taking off his spectacles 
 and putting them into the case, he revolved in 
 his mind how he could fetch up Charlotte, with- 
 out leaving the two others tete-a-tete : for if, as 
 he still suspected, Captain Ashbrook's inclina- 
 tion leaned towards Rosabel, by leaving them 
 together he was fostering that attachment which 
 would, he felt assured, be disagreeable to Rosa- 
 bel, but acceptable to Charlotte. Unfortunately, 
 this worthy man, too simple and good to deceive 
 others, had the great defect of character— for I 
 think it is a defect, although it may spring from 
 an amiable disposition — of being extremely 
 credulous; therefore he never doubted but that 
 Mrs. Waldegrave's hints, as to the state of his 
 favourite Rosabel's affections, were perfectly 
 correct. 
 
 Under this impression, he fidgeted and fidg-
 
 249 
 
 eted, peeped into the hall, rang the bell for 
 his hat and walking stick ; sat down for a minute 
 or two, got up again, and finally disappeared for 
 a time altogether. Meanwhile, Rosabel and 
 Captain Ashbrook consoled themselves for his 
 absence wonderfully well. Both felt that in 
 each other's society they enjoyed a reciprocity 
 of feeling which inspires the most cursory re- 
 marks with interest. Both knew, or fancied, 
 that their concerns, their thoughts, their occu- 
 pations were mutually interesting ; and hence, 
 as, in the company of those we love, is often the 
 case, the conversation had almost an egotistical 
 turn. At length they rose, and strolled out ; 
 Rosabel not without some trepidation — some 
 portion of that fear "which looks behind" — 
 some dread of inquisitive eyes from a certain 
 part of the house where her aunts' room was 
 situated; but a stronger feeling than even this 
 dread impelled her, and, with her usual reckless- 
 ness of consequences, away she went. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Lermont had obtruded into 
 the drawing-room, where Charlotte, uncon- 
 scious of all that was passing below, sat at her 
 tambour frame, her delicate cheek shaded by 
 
 M 3
 
 250 
 
 the Fair hair, not a single curl of which had 
 been disturbed by early exercise. The per- 
 sonal charms of Charlotte consisted entirely in 
 the delicacy of her complexion, and in a certain 
 symmetry of form and feature, which did not, 
 however, amount to any elevated style of 
 beauty. Compared to Rosabel, she was like a 
 portrait in water-colour by the side of a rich oil 
 painting. Nor were there any of those fleeting 
 variations, those expressions of mind and of 
 feeling, which give to our admiration of beauty 
 the value of an intellectual tribute, and stamp 
 upon the heart the memory of fascinations not 
 altogether evanescent. These were totally ab- 
 sent in Charlotte ; nor were the muscles of her 
 countenance, or the arrangements of her dress, 
 ever disturbed by those eager impulses and 
 hasty movements which are among the chief at- 
 tributes of youth. Already the cut of her gar- 
 ments, her gait, her voice, began to resemble 
 those of her aunt Mrs. Waldegrave; and a 
 fearful chilliness of manner, a painful narrow- 
 ness of opinion, to pervade her general charac- 
 teristics. Mr. Lermont, as he advanced with 
 eagerness into the room, stopped short; h\<
 
 251 
 
 ardour in her cause almost frozen by her un- 
 bending manner, and by the cold and unmean- 
 ing glance with which she regarded him. 
 
 "Ah! she's not like the family — she's far in- 
 ferior to her sister !" was the thought which 
 checked him as he stopped short at the door — his 
 shoes down at the heels, his black coat, for he 
 had worn black ever since his wife's death, quite 
 white at the elbows — and remembered his attire, 
 of which he should not have thought, had it been 
 Rosabel to whom he was talking. He had, how- 
 ever, so much love for all his friend's family, 
 so much innate goodness himself, that a faint 
 smile from Charlotte, if smile it could be called 
 which scarcely broke upon the repose of her fea- 
 tures, and the salutation, "Well, Mr. Lermonf, 
 we have not seen you here for an age!" revived 
 all his previous schemes in her favour. 
 
 "Miss Charlotte, here, come along with me," 
 he said, with a boding look at Mrs. Waldegrave, 
 who sat at the extremity of a settee, looking, as 
 if to lean back would have been too great a con- 
 descension, if indeed she could have leaned back 
 upon an article of furniture which the taste, or 
 rather the indolence of modern days has dis- 
 carded; a seat which offered the show of repose, 
 without the reality.
 
 252 
 
 " Your good aunt will permit me, I know, 
 to run away with you," added Mr. Lermont, 
 drawing the young lady's arm within his, 
 and bustling with her out of the room, 
 as if the fate of nations had depended upon 
 their exit. They reached the sanctum, but no 
 sounds of voices were heard within : Rosabel 
 and Captain Askbrook were gone : and Mr. 
 Henry Warner, who had walked over to pay 
 his respects particularly to Mr. Lermont, was 
 the only occupant of the apartment. 
 
 What was to be done ? Poor Mr. Lermont, 
 after welcoming his young guest, moved anx- 
 iously to the window, and discerned Rosabel 
 and Captain Ashbrook, walking at their usual 
 brisk pace towards a small ascent, crowned with 
 a grove, which at this early season, for it was 
 towards the close of March, presented but few- 
 attractions. 
 
 " They will be standing there, looking at 
 the view, now," said the old gentleman 
 to himself. " Miss Charlotte, what say you 
 to a walk ?" he added, aloud. " You are not 
 like your sister, Miss Rosa there, who goes 
 out as I see, without either head or neck on; 
 but perhaps you'll venture in a calash ?" 
 
 " 1 have a handkerchief, sir, and Ford can
 
 253 
 
 send for my bonnet," replied Charlotte, coldly, 
 as she rung the bell. " Oh! Captain Ashbrook 
 is with my sister, I see," she continued, with 
 the same unaltered countenance. " Well ! I 
 think I will brave the cold, my maid is always 
 so long." 
 
 " This way, then," cried Mr. Lermont, 
 eagerly. " Your sister walks so fast," he added, 
 walking away himself with all the ardour of 
 pursuit; and to do his companions justice, they 
 did their best to keep up with him. Charlotte's 
 colour, for a wonder, came and went, and there 
 was a something like an expression of anxiety 
 in her countenance. All at once, it occurred to 
 Mr. Lermont, that he could meet the incon- 
 siderate pair by a nearer path, and intercept 
 their course; so, after a few hurried words, he 
 set off for that purpose, leaving Miss Fortes- 
 cue and Mr. Warner tete-a-tete. Neither of 
 these two persons liked each other. Charlotte 
 looked down upon the Warners, as people 
 every way inferior to her, and Henry Warner 
 had seen and heard quite enough of Miss For- 
 tescue, to be certain that she had neither heart 
 nor mind. She suffered, too, in his estimation, 
 by a comparison with Rosabel; of whose mental
 
 254 
 
 and personal charms he was an humble and 
 hopeless admirer. This tete-a-tete, therefore, 
 was but little enlivened by conversation ; and a 
 stranger, meeting the unhappy pair, might have 
 thought they were spell-bound to preserve 
 silence. Charlotte's demeanour was so frigid, 
 her face so statue-like; and Mr. Henry Warner 
 moved on with a gravity of deportment which 
 would have suited a funeral. 
 
 Very different was the condition of the couple 
 whom they were pursuing. At times, Charlotte 
 caught glimpses of them, when the sight was 
 any thing but consoling to her, and her equally 
 disappointed companion ; for Captain Ashbrook 
 and Rosabel moved along as if they had for- 
 gotten that any one might be behind them : he, 
 in earnest and animated conversation, evidently 
 quite absorbed in his companion : — stopping 
 now and then, as if to point out a favourite ob- 
 ject, or to delay perhaps moments which might 
 seem to fleet. It was not, apparently, that they 
 entered the slight conversation of indifference, 
 and that they enjoyed the thoughtless laugh 
 of youth ; their discourse appeared almost 
 serious : what could it be ? 
 
 Charlotte, selfish upon principle, and tena-
 
 255 
 
 cious about what she conceived to be her own 
 rights, began to feel angry with Rosabel for 
 her interposition between herself and him 
 whom all the world had assigned to her. She 
 grew more and more dissatisfied with her pre- 
 sent companion — felt herself neglected ; and 
 gave herself no trouble, either to volunteer ob- 
 servations, or scarcely reply to his. He, on 
 the other hand, equally disappointed, and his 
 heart more really interested, offended with the 
 one sister, and tantalized, every now and then, 
 with a distant vision of the other, wished him- 
 self any where but where he was ; and a 
 proud, angry, disdainful expression settled 
 upon a countenance usually animated and 
 agreeable. 
 
 At last, the pursuers and pursued came in 
 contact. Rosabel and her companion chose, 
 for some reason not obvious, to turn away from 
 the walk ; and, after some mysterious rambles, 
 came unexpectedly upon Charlotte and her 
 despised attendant ; for companion he could not 
 be called. Charlotte, before she saw the truant 
 pair, could hear Captain Ashbrook saying : — 
 
 " Then you agree with me, that a break in 
 the avenue will be an advantage, and no profan-
 
 256 
 
 ation ? It shall be done immediately. I was 
 thinking of inserting painted glass windows in 
 the Hall. — Do you like painted glass ?" But 
 here they were encountered by Miss Fortescue, 
 and Captain Ashbrook had not the benefit of 
 Rosabel's opinion upon the windows, painted 
 or not, of his Hall. 
 
 " How fast you walk !" said Charlotte, her 
 glance first passing over Captain Ashbrook, 
 and then fixing upon Rosabel, with that half-mo- 
 nitory, half-contemptuous look, which she con- 
 sidered, from Mrs. Waldegrave's tuition, her- 
 self privileged to pursue to such graceless 
 characters as younger brothers and sisters. 
 
 " Not fast, I think," remarked Henry War- 
 ner, " we have been more than half an hour 
 walking ; you set out sooner, I think, than we 
 did, Captain Ashbrook." 
 
 « You speak as if you were envious of our 
 speed," replied Captain Ashbrook, looking at 
 him. — " But here is Mr. Lermont ; and he ap- 
 pears so agitated, that I fear he has some bad 
 news to communicate. — Well, sir ?" 
 
 " My dear Miss Rosa — my worthy friend, 
 Captain Ashbrook — you will be accountable 
 for a fit of apoplexy, or a sciatica, if you make
 
 257 
 
 me run after you so," cried the good old gen- 
 tleman, his face radiant with heat. 
 
 " Nay, sir," said Rosabel, playfully, " it was 
 you who first ran away from us." 
 
 " What a beautiful glow," thought Henry 
 Warner to himself, " the wind has brought 
 into her face ; no wonder that Captain Ash- 
 brook has found his walk so agreeable." 
 
 " We were saying," resumed Captain Ash- 
 brook, " that if a branch or two of those old 
 elms were lopped off, or even," he added, re- 
 luctantly, " a tree were cut down, we might 
 — I mean to say — there might be a favourable 
 glimpse of Ashbrook from this very spot; that 
 gable end, of which we catch the point, now 
 that the trees are leafless, would look well, and 
 would break the, perhaps, too thick foliage." 
 He half turned to Rosabel as he spoke. 
 
 " I think it just depends upon opinion," said 
 Mr. Lermont. 
 
 " It is quite a matter of taste," said Charlotte. 
 
 " I thought you were calling it sacrilege, the 
 the other day," remarked Henry Warner, to 
 touch one of those old elms." 
 
 " Yes ; but I have altered my opinion — I
 
 258 
 
 see things in a different point of view to-day," 
 replied Captain Ashbrook. 
 
 " That I have no doubt of," said Mr. Ler- 
 mont ; it depends so much on the company we 
 are in, in what point of view we see things. 
 You are willing to oblige your friends and 
 neighbours with a prospect of your mansion ; 
 that is very good, very well thought of. What 
 is Miss Charlotte's opinion on the subject ?" 
 
 " Oh, I — " answered Charlotte, coldly, " am 
 not a person of taste, and need not be con- 
 sulted in such matters." Her eye rested, for 
 an instant, contemptuously upon her sister's 
 glowing countenance. 
 
 Rosabel, quickly alive to all Charlotte's in- 
 dications of feeling, answered that glance by 
 saying, in a fond tone — " Oh yes, you are, 
 
 Charlotte much more than I am," she was 
 
 going to say, but she broke off, merely adding, 
 " no one has so much taste as Charlotte; Aunt 
 Waldegrave says so." 
 
 Her warmth of manner, and her sister's 
 coldness, formed indeed a striking contrast ; 
 and a few minutes of silence prevailed. Cap- 
 tain Ashbrook could not withdraw his eves
 
 259 
 
 from the last speaker, whilst those of Henry 
 Warner were bent upon the ground. At last 
 the little coterie moved onwards ; Mr. Lermont 
 thinking it prudent to secure Rosabel to him- 
 self, whilst Henry Warner walked beside him ; 
 and Charlotte was left, as was her due, accord- 
 ing to Mrs. Waldegrave, under the eligible 
 guidance of Captain Ashbrook. 
 
 " It will not do," thought Mr. Lermont to 
 himself, as he sauntered home, dropping back 
 after young Warner and Rosabel ; " the Cap- 
 tain hangs in the wind, as the sailors say ; the 
 other affair goes on prosperously — too pros- 
 perously, perhaps — poor Rosabel," thought he, 
 as he raised his head and looked at her — 
 Rosa is happy, now she is with the right man. 
 God bless her, and may God grant that her fa- 
 ther be propitious to her wishes. I must try my 
 influence that way ;" — and, happy in the notion 
 that his influence could be available any way, 
 Mr. Lermont bustled in after the young people.
 
 260 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " Some honour I would have. 
 
 Not from good deeds, but good alone." 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 Mr. Lermont's whole energies, for the few 
 days following this incident, were directed to 
 the forwarding of what he conceived to be Ro- 
 sabel's wishes; softening Sir John's prejudices, 
 seeking the aid of Mrs. Waldegrave and Miss 
 Alice, and promoting a frequent communi- 
 cation between Rosabel and the family at the 
 Hill. With these designs, he harassed and 
 disappointed the poor girl as much as possible ; 
 took her twice out of the way when Captain 
 Ashbrook was expected to call ; infused into 
 the mind of that individual doubts as to Rosa- 
 bel's sentiments to himself; and cherished 
 fallacious hopes in Henry, who had never, 
 hitherto, even ventured to think of Rosa-
 
 621 
 
 bel, but as a prize far above his grasp. His 
 father began to joke him, and Phillis and Amy 
 to rejoice at Rosabel's frequent visits to the 
 Hill ; always, it is true, brought thither by Mr. 
 Lermont, sometimes on foot, sometimes in a 
 rumbling old phaeton, which had stood in the 
 coach-house for years, but which was now 
 brought out at Mr. Lermont's petition, as it 
 could hold only two with any convenience, and 
 furnished a pretext for their tete-a-tete drives. 
 Rosabel, fond of the Miss Warners, and glad 
 to escape from home at any rate, and in hopes 
 of encountering Captain Ashbrook, gave un- 
 wittingly into the old gentleman's schemes, not 
 having the slightest notion of his actual inten- 
 tions. 
 
 " I really begin to think, aunt, that Rosa and 
 Mr. Lermont will make a match of it," said 
 Hubert, as he stood one day looking out of the 
 window. " Aunt Alice, you will have to wear 
 the willow. Look at them coming down the 
 hill, the old fellow driving, and Rosabel with 
 her hat flying back — what a figure ! Ha ! who 
 is that overtaking them ? Lady Lovaine, in 
 her old coach, I declare ; her monkey looking 
 out of the window ! My lord inside, I suppose,
 
 262 
 
 attended by pillows and bolsters ; and the old 
 stick of a footman outside." 
 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, who had been out of hu- 
 mour all the morning, smoothed her brow at 
 this intelligence, and assumed that meek, placid 
 look with which ill-tempered persons some- 
 times know how to veil their actual dispositions. 
 
 The voice of Lady Lovaine in the hall was 
 very soon audible. 
 
 " Well, it is a call — take it for granted. My 
 lord is enveloped in cotton wool to-day — cannot 
 stir out — wind easterly. I never allow either 
 him or Joco to stir out in an easterly wind. — 
 You must all come," she added, as she entered 
 the drawing-room, " to a family party on Wed- 
 nesday. It is Ashbrook's birth-day ; and, as 
 he is our heir, our son by adoption, we cannot 
 pass over so important an occasion. We will 
 not say what his age is.- — Where is Rosabel ? 
 Let us be satisfied with the pleasing certainfv 
 that he will live to see me and Lord Lovaine 
 low, low, low. 
 
 " Alice, we shall expect you among the 
 young people ; and my favourite, Miss Ro- 
 sabel, of course ; and her brother, who, if I 
 doubt not, will make many a young heart
 
 263 
 
 ache. A flirt, is he not, betimes ? Mrs. Wal- 
 degrave, we reckon upon you and Miss For- 
 tescue. Alas ! what is so miserable as a family 
 party !" 
 
 " We should all feel honoured," Mrs. Wal- 
 degrave began — 
 
 " Well then, do ; and let me take it for 
 granted — " 
 
 " But permit me to say — Hubert, I fear, is 
 engaged on that day : I know nothing of Sir 
 John's movements : and Rosa, my lady, allow 
 me to observe, is too young to enter into dinner 
 visits : you would not, I am sure, sanction such 
 a thing ; nor could I believe it to be right." 
 
 " I do — I shall," replied Lady Lovaine, in- 
 flexibly. " I will not only sanction, but have 
 her. — What ! leave my pretty Rosa at home ! 
 the belle and attraction of the whole party ! 
 No, no : what would Ashbrook say to that ?" 
 
 " Hush, hush," cried Mrs. Waldegrave, in 
 consternation, and looking round to see if her 
 nieces were there. Rosabel only was present. 
 
 " I can assure you, sister Waldegrave, your 
 generalship will be all thrown away upon Char- 
 lotte, in this instance. Rosabel is his attrac- 
 tion ; Rosabel is mine. Not that you ought to
 
 264 
 
 be even thinking of marriage at your age, 
 child," she added, sternly looking round at 
 Rosabel, who stood at a little distance, her 
 consciousness and confusion strongly counter- 
 acted by her curiosity. " It would be far 
 better for you to be at your lessons, or working 
 at your sampler, child, than thinking of such 
 matters, — or listening to two old women's 
 tales." 
 
 " Rosabel, withdraw," said Mrs. Walde- 
 grave, in the mildest possible tone, whilst her 
 face was pale with rage. 
 
 " Miss Fortescue, I tell you," pursued Lady 
 Lovaine, as she seated herself on the chair 
 nearest to her, " will never attract a man of 
 Captain Ashbrook's sort — a man all soul and 
 sentiment; though I hold such things to be 
 very absurd and inconvenient ; but still it is 
 so : and be is well enough for a lord to be. I 
 suppose he will not disgrace his predecessor — 
 Heigho !" 
 
 "He's a fine creature! a gentlemanly fel- 
 low !" said Mr. Lermont, who came from an 
 inner room, with three or four half-opened 
 letters in his hand. " And what a pleasant, 
 mild, well-bred, clever, sensible young man, is
 
 265 
 
 that Mr. Henry Warner. Miss Rosabel is 
 vastly fond of the sisters, and really seems her- 
 self just like one of the family." 
 
 " I hope not !" exclaimed Lady Lovaine. 
 " As I have the honour to be connected myself 
 with Sir John Fortescue's family, I am not at 
 all ambitious of that sort of addenda to it. Mrs. 
 Waldegrave, what say you? But, no, no; 
 Miss Rosabel is destined for better things. He 
 will do for the fourth or fifth sister. I have 
 laid an embargo upon Rosabel." 
 
 " Oh, certainly !" interposed Mrs. Walde- 
 grave, with a laugh so forced that it almost 
 
 i 
 
 assumed the character of a convulsive twitch ; 
 " but the inclinations, my lady, are so much 
 studied in the present day ; young ladies must 
 now have their own way in these matters. I 
 fear we cannot contend against custom. For- 
 merly, young persons were not consulted ; but 
 now, they consider themselves quite a party 
 concerned." 
 
 " And so they are ; — yet they have no right 
 to decline an advantageous proposal," replied 
 Lady Lovaine ; " nor shall, nor will, Rosabel. 
 And, to ' make assurance doubly sure,' I will 
 have her under my own eye at Medlicote for a 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 
 
 few days. Of course, sister Waldegrave, you 
 will consent to what is so very much for your 
 niece's advantage ? Where is the child ? Do 
 not trouble yourself : I will take upon myself 
 the whole responsibility with Sir John. Don't 
 hurry yourself, don't hurry yourself, sister 
 Waldegrave ! she is in the school-room, I sup- 
 pose ?— where, indeed, she ought to be. This 
 wav o — that way ? I hope she is not troubling 
 her head, as yet, with matrimonial matters. 
 But, certainly, she must not be allowed to 
 refuse Ash brook for all the Warners in ex- 
 istence." 
 
 " But, my lady," interposed Mr. Lermont, 
 who now stepped forward to Mrs. Waldegrave's 
 assistance, " in these affairs of the heart, you 
 know — " 
 
 " A heart ! what has she to do with a heart ? 
 And is not Ashbrook the man to engage any 
 girl's heart? — Handsome, — at least, passably 
 so : he takes after my lord's family ; they all 
 
 have that but I weary myself arguing the 
 
 matter — And all this while there is Lovel, our 
 parish doctor, waiting to consult me about a 
 poor man's leg. The school will be in the last 
 confusion! Our head teacher is on a pleasure
 
 267 
 
 jaunt today. I wonder what poor people have 
 to do with pleasure jaunts, or with hearts ! — 
 things both unnecessary. Well, I suppose, 
 like all young ladies, she will be an hour at her 
 toilet before I can take her. < In that how 
 admirable, Clarissa !' I cannot endure novels! 
 — cannot read them — they make me sick ! But 
 Clarissa is a pattern." 
 
 " Quite a pattern," echoed Mrs. Waldegrave. 
 
 " Quite so," said Aunt Alice. 
 
 " She," pursued Lady Lovaine, without no- 
 ticing either of these assents, " could always 
 dress in half an hour, and was seemly and 
 gentlewomanlike in that time ; whilst her sister, 
 Arabella — — Bless me ! it is one o'clock — this 
 woman's leg — never could make herself fit to 
 be seen — a shower coming on, I think — in 
 double the time. Hah ! Sir John, how do you 
 do ? I was coming in search of you, to request 
 you to let me run away with your second daugh- 
 ter, who takes my fancy vastly." 
 
 " Your ladyship does her much honour," 
 answered Sir John, gravely ; " and I feel the 
 kindness the more, that it is extended to Rosa- 
 bel, who has few opportunities of cultivating 
 the good-will of her friends ; but — " 
 
 N 2
 
 268 
 
 " Oh, 1 see you consent ; and, as Mrs. WaJ- 
 degrave has not, cannot, have any objection, it 
 is a settled thing. Oh, as to her wardrobe, 
 you know Medlicote is quite a seclusion, an 
 absolute Noah's ark : do not trouble yourself; 
 we are not particular : and if the child should 
 be a little old-fashioned, she will suit the place 
 better. I abominate— don't you ?— these sleeves 
 that are the mode ! so long ; even below the elbow. 
 Women are so ashamed of their arms now-a- 
 davs ; there will not be an arm fit to be seen in 
 the next century. I am glad Rosabel still keeps 
 to the proper, discreet, becoming short sleeve*." 
 
 " I quite agree with your ladyship," replied 
 Mrs. Waldegrave ; " nothing is so becoming as a 
 mitten ; nothing so unladylike as a long sleeve." 
 
 " Miss Goodyer," interposed Aunt Alice, 
 eager to be heard, " and all the Goodyers, are 
 famous for their arms ; and, I have heard say, have 
 their white kid mittens sown to their sleeves, 
 every day a fresh pair, and never taken off." 
 
 " The important question of sleeve versus 
 mitten is therefore," said Lady Lovaine, " dc- 
 
 * The sleeve was afterwards abridged, according to the fashion 
 
 adopted by the famous Mrs. Abingdon.
 
 269 
 
 cided ; it is not who shall throw down, but who 
 shall take up, the glove. By your leave, my 
 carriage — and — Rosabella. Depend upon my 
 lecturing her bravely, Mrs. Waldegrave, my 
 instilling her with proper notions of what is 
 due to herself, and to you." — And, without 
 heeding the suppressed ill-humour and despair 
 of her sister-in-law, or the imitative perturba- 
 tions of Aunt Alice, Lady Lovaine marched 
 onwards towards the part of the house usually 
 occupied by the young ladies, gave orders for 
 Rosabel's immediate departure with her, — over- 
 turned the serenity of the whole household ; 
 — hurried the lady's maid, affronted the butler, 
 set two or three of the younger ones crying, 
 and nearly ran over the governess. At last, 
 Rosabel, in an agitation of surprise, which per- 
 mitted her no time to bewail the unprepared 
 state of her toilet, was bundled in after Lady 
 Lovaine ; an imperial, containing her clothes, 
 being, at the same time, hoisted upon the sum- 
 mit of the vehicle. 
 
 All seemed like a dream ; and Rosabel, 
 like an emancipated slave, who revels in 
 the vision of freedom, was fearful of awaken- 
 ing from her delusion. But she soon found,
 
 270 
 
 that whatever might be her enjoyments at 
 Medlicote, freedom was not amongst them. 
 It was merely a change of tyrants that she 
 had undergone ; despotism still prevailed, and, 
 perhaps, the rein was even tighter than at 
 home. It was well that she had learned 
 to be submissive, and that submission was, in 
 many cases, agreeable to herself. 
 
 The first evening was one of repose, almost 
 of gloom. Lady Lovaine was satisfied with 
 having carried her point ; and she rested 
 tranquilly on her oars, awaiting the next day. 
 His lordship was bilious and fretful ; and his 
 fretfulness was that of a feeble, yet wayward 
 child, whose power consists solely in the ability 
 to be disagreeable. Accustomed to act as a 
 kind of keeper to her consort, Lady Lovaine, 
 whenever she gave way in the least, had to rue 
 her concessions ; for his lordship's irritability 
 was apt to increase to a kind of petty frenzy, 
 which was only restrained, in the presence of 
 Rosabel, by his extreme good breeding, that 
 strong curb of habit in the old school. Rosabel 
 absolutely pitied Lady Lovaine the first evening, 
 and rejoiced when the peevish and suffering in- 
 valid was fairly quieted into his easy chair by
 
 271 
 
 a dose of camphor and opium in the evening. 
 There he sank down, having, after many apo- 
 logies, drawn on his velvet night-cap, looking, 
 on a large scale, sagacity of expression not 
 included, like one of those waxen effigies of Vol- 
 taire in his last illnes, which present the French 
 philosopher in no very enviable condition. 
 
 " It it all very well," whispered Lady Lovaine 
 to Rosabel, as his lordship, after trying in vain 
 to keep his eyes open, closed them finally — 
 " it is all very well when people are worn out 
 by actual disease, or vexed into a consumption 
 by real miseries; but when, as in my lord's case, 
 the disease is half imaginary, and the miseries 
 wholly so — but it is a family tendency ; even 
 Ashbrook, with all his fine qualities, has some 
 traits of his uncle — would you believe it ?" 
 
 " No, indeed, I could not," said Rosabel, 
 very earnestly ; " I mean, at least, I do not 
 see any resemblance." She spoke with an 
 emphasis, with a blush, which quite satisfied 
 Lady Lovaine of her preference, whilst, with 
 that pride of family opinion which was the 
 standard ingredient of her character, she an- 
 swered, almost haughtily — 
 
 " It will be well for Captain Ashbrook, if he
 
 272 
 
 be ever so popular as my lord has been. Indeed, 
 I doubt it ; my lord's manners were always 
 deemed perfection ; no one so popular, I can 
 assure you." 
 
 Rosabel was not disposed to controvert 
 that point ; and the conversation passed until 
 bed-room candles were brought to the draw- 
 ing-room door by Lady Lovaine's maid; and 
 the vast precincts of Medlicote were soon 
 hushed in repose. 
 
 At a distance from Mr. Lermont, Captain 
 Ash brook's love-suit went on prosperously, and 
 Lady Lovaine, amidst the self-gratulations of 
 spasms cured, gout averted, chilblains pre- 
 vented, and bile fairly driven out of the field, 
 began to add that of having rooted out Rosabel's 
 foolish predilections, and safely established her 
 nephew's favour in their place. With the in- 
 discretion of feminine generalship, she could not, 
 however, avoid hinting to Captain Ashbrook 
 that she had thought it right to bring Rosabel 
 away from home, in order to keep her from 
 injurious society, or from forming injurious con- 
 nections. The colour mounted into Captain 
 Ashbrook's face ; but he dismissed the feelings 
 which arose, with the reflection that the sug-
 
 273 
 
 gestion was one of Lady Lovaine's chimeras. — 
 Indeed, he had every cause to hope, at least, 
 that Rosabel's early prepossessions were in his 
 own favour. 
 
 He lost no time, at any rate, in preferring 
 his suit; and Lady Lovaine, who had, during 
 all her married life, hated a young man loitering 
 about the house, in here, out there, soon began 
 to be weary of courtship. It is no slight 
 misery to feel oneself un de trop. — Pardon, 
 gracious reader, this gallicism ; for it demands 
 pardon, for there is no offence, in my opinion, 
 so atrocious as that of the introduction of 
 foreign phrases into our honest English nar- 
 ratives. Lady Lovaine, however, experienced 
 to the full the conviction that her company was 
 any thing but indispensable to Rosabel and Cap- 
 tain Ashbrook. When she staid two hours in 
 the village, worrying the poor, she found, on her 
 return, not that they were surprised at her ab- 
 sence, but that she had been gone so long as she 
 stated. Captain Ashbrook, who had long shown 
 her the affection, and more than the assiduity, 
 of a son, now seemed to forget her existence. 
 When Rosabel was present, he was all grace, 
 animation, and enjoyment : — alone with Lady 
 
 N 3
 
 274 
 
 Lovaine, she could not absorb his attention, even 
 at the alarm of a typhus fever in the village, 
 or upon the news of the schoolmaster's having 
 given notice to quit. She could not even now 
 put him out of humour, except when she talked 
 of his regiment, or of the termination of his 
 leave of absence. 
 
 " Thank God!" said her ladyship to herself, 
 " we can have but one heir ! and it is a great 
 charge to have the marrying of him properly!" 
 The child is well enough, but shows her par- 
 tiality for Ashbrook much too plainly ; and, 
 with all his expectations, he will have, after 
 all, what he has always wished — a love-match 
 entirely ; it is hardly a compliment to the 
 family, the low account which this giddy young 
 thing makes of titles and estates : not that she 
 ought to begin to value Medlicote yet awhile 
 — no — no." 
 
 My lord was less discerning ; he saw no 
 particular meaning in Rosabel's staying at 
 Medlicote, nor in Captain Ashbrook's spend- 
 ing the greater part of every day there. He 
 only thought his nephew came over to enquire 
 after his arm. 
 
 " What! Ashbrook again ? My good sir, this
 
 275 
 
 is doing too much. It would be unconscionable 
 in me to require it. Wouldn't it, Lady Lo- 
 vaine ? You are really prodigiously attentive. 
 Isn't be, Miss Rosabella ?" 
 
 " Thank heaven!" exclaimed Lady Lovaine, 
 as she saw Rosabel depart, when the week was 
 completed. " I have done my duty — shewn the 
 child what a gentleman is ; kept her from low 
 connections — secured to Ashbrook one to his 
 mind. Just the sort of fatiguing job as with the 
 clerk's daughter, last year ; and now they may 
 settle the rest of their affairs for themselves. I 
 can have nothing more to do with them ; es- 
 pecially whilst the school is in such confusion." 
 
 It was with mingled gloom and elation, that 
 Rosabel returned to the home of her fathers. 
 She well knew with what sentiments her female 
 relations there would receive her. She dreaded 
 Charlotte's coldness far more than the hard un- 
 kindness of Mrs. Waldegrave : in the latter case 
 it was her pride, not her affection, that was 
 wounded. She had no expectation of sympathy 
 from any one. Hubert was too heedless, her 
 father too stern, the rest of the family too 
 young. She doubted not but that reprehension 
 to a certain extent would be her fate ; but all
 
 270 
 
 this she could now well sustain, for she was sup- 
 ported by the certainty that to one heart she 
 was exclusively dear, nor could she but look 
 forward to a happier home, a haven of peace, 
 where she could forget the injustice and slights 
 which had rendered her girlhood a season of 
 unhappiness and mortification. Armed with 
 this support, Rosabel prepared to encounter, 
 with temper and magnanimity, any trials of pa- 
 tience which might await her. She felt that 
 she was a changed being. Age had brought its 
 usual antidote of reason to rebellious feelings 
 and stormy passions; and this early, very early, 
 attachment had taught her to value herself, and 
 had excited her ambition to become a superior 
 being. At present, religion had little or no in- 
 fluence in directing her motives, and in quelling 
 her resentment: that was to be the solace of her 
 yet more adverse days; the monitor and com- 
 forter whom we delay to summon to our aid, 
 until sickness or sorrow T teaches the wounded 
 spirit that for it there can be no other solace, 
 no other support. 
 
 When Rosabel reached home, she found, 
 however, that her absence had been employed 
 by Mrs. Waldegrave in making arrangements
 
 277 
 
 for her yet longer absence from Hales Hall. 
 That something had passed, was evident, 
 from the fallacious calm which sat upon the 
 brow of her aunt, and the smile that graced, or 
 embittered, as it might either way be thought, 
 these words: 
 
 " Rosabel, my dear, you have so often 
 begged and prayed to go to your Aunt Evelyn's 
 for awhile, that your father is persuaded to let 
 you, dear. Good Mrs. Evelyn is overjoyed, 
 and will be ready for you early next week." 
 
 It may be readily conceived with what sensa- 
 tions this fiat was hailed.
 
 278 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 If sometimes upon me your thoughts should stray, 
 I shall have leisure memory's debt to pay." 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 " My father consents — my aunt expects me — 
 even Mr. Lermont has made up his mind to 
 it. Philiis, dear Phillis! Amy, dear Amy! do 
 write to me, and tell me all the news ; I shall 
 hear nothing except from you. Don't fill half 
 a side with apologies, Amy! — nor Phillis, do you 
 criticise my letters! — but tell me all, every thing 
 you hear, about the Hill, about home, about 
 Ashbrook, about Medlicote." 
 
 Such were Rosabel's words, as she sat with 
 her friends, the Warners, in the farewell visit 
 which she made to the Hill. She longed to un- 
 burthen her heart to some one; to establish a 
 faithful correspondence ; to say why she felt 
 melancholy at the prospect of her approaching
 
 279 
 
 departure. Her partial friends guessed, as they 
 thought, the cause of her sufferings, and Amy's 
 sympathy dissolved itself in tears. Phillis 
 burned to say, " dear Rosabel, we see your at- 
 tachment to Henry ; we understand all you feel :" 
 but a sense of honour, of propriety restrained 
 her. She even considered it imprudent for the 
 young lovers, as she deemed them, to have an 
 opportunity of taking leave of each other, in 
 the present excited state of their feelings. Rosa- 
 bel was to walk home: Mr. Lermont, after 
 bringing her over in the phaeton, had left her, 
 in hopes that an impending shower of rain 
 would oblige her to stay all night. He had only 
 been reconciled to Rosabel's departure, by the 
 assurance that Sir John's mind would be more 
 readily brought round to her wishes during her 
 absence. His own private business ; a visit to 
 the under secretary of state with a petition from 
 a widow in the Highlands ; — interest to make 
 with the East Indian Directors, in favour of a 
 needy friend with a large family ; — a commission 
 to be procured, sans purchase, for Hubert; and 
 half-a-dozen minor suits in hand for decayed 
 farmers and poor villagers; made the good man 
 think his visit to the metropolis indispensable.
 
 280 
 
 How could he, also, endure the quiet of HalesHall 
 without Rosabel ? She was the light of his days 
 — her bounding step, her clear, soft voice glad- 
 dened his heart, whenever she approached his 
 sanctum. He loved Hubert too ; but Hubert 
 vexed and plagued him. He esteemed Sir 
 John, but had too many foibles to excuse in his 
 eyes, too many derelictions from prudence to 
 palliate to his watchful and sincere friend, to 
 feel at ease in his presence ; therefore he felt 
 no great reluctance to depart. But to return to 
 Rosabel . 
 
 She sat long and mournfully with her young 
 friends, whilst a trusty female servant, aided by 
 John, the under gardener, with umbrellas, 
 awaited her pleasure to escort her on her return 
 home. Phillis, dreading the consequences of a 
 tete-a-tete with Henry, looked forth every now 
 and then, and drew in her head, saying: " Rosa 
 dear, if you are to go, what do you think of that 
 cloud ? I should be delighted to have you a 
 little longer; but if it should rain — what do you 
 say to it?" 
 
 " Phillis is always prudent," said Amy; "she 
 always judges right." 
 
 " I shall envy Charlotte going to Hotham races
 
 281 
 
 next week," said Rosabel, rising slowly, and 
 tying her bonnet. " You will all be there — your 
 brother too, I suppose ; and Lady Lovaine is 
 patroness, Captain Ashbrook steward — I never 
 saw any races." 
 
 " It is really quite a shame," said Amy, 
 that you should be sent off, this way, from 
 every gaiety. Dear Rosabel, we will write 
 you every particular." 
 
 " Be sure," said Rosabel, tearfully, " that 
 you mention how Charlotte looks, and who are 
 her partners ; say how your new dresses fit, 
 and if— if— " 
 
 " Yes ; we will tell you every thing," said 
 Phillis ; " you shall hear all about all of us — 
 Henry, and Papa, and all — but, mind you burn 
 our letters." 
 
 " I don't wish to be troublesome," added 
 Rosabel, looking down, " but could you write 
 the very day after the race-ball ; and, if 
 any body should ask about me, or miss me, 
 do say. Amy, if you think of it, tell Captain 
 Ashbrook where I am gone to, and that I mean 
 to go and see Ellerslie, an old hereditary 
 property of his in Derbyshire, just close — how 
 curious! — to Aunt Evelyn's. I do not sup-
 
 282 
 
 pose he ever visits it : but he has often talked 
 to me about it." 
 
 " He is an excellent man," said Phillis, " and 
 would make a capital match for Charlotte : he 
 would be a great deal too old for you, Rosa ; 
 and it is very fortunate that he has no inclina- 
 tion to think otherwise." 
 
 " I wish I could agree to that," thought Ro- 
 sabel, as she moved reluctantly, at last, on her 
 way homewards. Sweet and bitter thoughts 
 occupied her reveries ; but her reflections were 
 not wholly of a selfish character. She had 
 her fears for the happiness of others. She saw 
 that Hubert was engrossed by a boyish and 
 impetuous passion for Amy Warner, and that 
 Amy was but too deeply interested in him. 
 Much as she esteemed her friends, that regard 
 did not equalize their station to her own, in her 
 eyes : she had been brought up to hold the 
 purity of the family connection inviolate ; and 
 she well knew that Sir John would spurn an 
 intermarriage with the Warner family, as an 
 invasion of his hereditary consequence and 
 rights. She walked, therefore, musingly on- 
 wards, her attendants following her at some 
 distance behind, so that her melancholy thoughts
 
 283 
 
 had full play and scope. Thus she passed on, 
 until a turn in the path brought to her view an 
 object which arrested her attention. It was 
 Ashbrook ; which, in other directions was usu- 
 ally shrouded by trees, but which, from this point, 
 looked imposing, although the principal fea- 
 tures of the house were those of a respectable 
 antiquity, rather than of grandeur. It was now 
 undergoing improvements and repairs ; not a 
 chimney, indeed, was to be levelled, nor the 
 slightest infringement upon style and character 
 to be permitted. One corner of the house 
 claimed kindred with the days of the Planta- 
 ganets ; and to this cherished, original portion, 
 sundry additions had been, at various epochs, 
 made, with as much correspondence to the an- 
 cient part as possible. New rooms w r ere now 
 in progress ; a music room, a larger library, 
 and new bed rooms : and Rosabel, as she 
 stretched an eager gaze, saw, with complicated 
 feelings, the workmen at their labours. The 
 sun-beams danced in a small piece of water 
 contiguous to the house ; the first buddings of 
 delightful spring mantled near the grey stones 
 of the house : Rosabel looked long and ear- 
 nestly, and the sight seemed to refresh her — to
 
 284 
 
 fill her mind with the image of one who was 
 the idol of her young and enthusiastic fancy — 
 to breathe peace and hope into her mind. 
 
 She reached home, therefore, in better spi- 
 rits than she had left it ; but she was met by the 
 trying intelligence that a change had taken 
 place in the arrangement for her departure. 
 Two of the carriage horses were ill ; the other 
 tw r o, which were to take her and her attendant 
 the first two stages, would be wanted for the 
 Hotham races ; they must be rested in time, 
 that was indispensable ; and, consequently, 
 must set out sooner. And, as Mrs. Evelyn 
 was always prepared for the reception of any 
 of her nieces or nephews, it would be of no 
 consequence letting her know. 
 
 " Rosabel would be at home there," Mrs. 
 Waldegrave said, with a smile ; which, like the 
 east wind on a sunny day, cuts one through and 
 through with a semblance of kindness. Ro- 
 sabel's convenience must therefore bend to the 
 general convenience. Her wardrobe was pre- 
 pared—little or nothing would do for South- 
 well — it was quite a place to wear out one's 
 old dress — Mr. and Mrs. Evelyn were not vi- 
 siting people.
 
 285 
 
 Rosabel could brook this no longer ; her 
 native high spirit had been suppressed by cir- 
 cumstances, but it had merely lain dormant. 
 The colour deepened on her cheek, and her 
 eye flashed with anger, as she told her Aunt 
 that she would not go, at least for some days, 
 unless she knew that it was Sir John's express 
 commands that she should do so. 
 
 " What, not to her Aunt Evelyn's ?— to the 
 aunt whom she preferred to every one else ? — 
 there was no pleasing some people. Once 
 awhile she was ready enough to go— what ailed 
 her with Aunt Evelyn now ?" 
 
 Rosabel would not say ; no one had a right 
 to penetrate into her thoughts, except her fa- 
 ther. She met with sympathy from no one — 
 her eye glanced in anger upon Charlotte, who 
 sat, apparently unconcerned in the contest, 
 apart from the disputants. The angry glance 
 was returned with a cold, unmeaning, reprov- 
 ing gaze, which seemed to say — " Why do you 
 appeal to me ? — it is no affair of mine." 
 
 Rosabel felt her heart throb with anguish, 
 her wrath subside into the bitter pang of 
 wounded affection. "Charlotte!" she cried, 
 " from my aunts I expect no sympathy — I wish
 
 28G 
 
 for none ; it is you — you, who grieve me ! — 
 Charlotte — the happy days of our childhood !" 
 she continued, her voice broken by sobs, — 
 " those happy days, when we loved each other, 
 are all at an end, Charlotte, and I have no 
 friend now — at least, here !" 
 
 Charlotte coloured, and looked down ; but, 
 determined not to commit herself, she checked 
 the transitory risings of natural affection, and 
 said, calmly — 
 
 " I don't see why you should blame me, 
 Rosabel ; I have nothing to do with your 
 plans. I do not think I have acted improperly 
 in any way ; have I, Aunt Waldegrave ? have 
 I, Aunt Alice ?" 
 
 " Assuredly not," cried Mrs. Waldegrave ; 
 " nor are we all to be controuled by Miss Ro- 
 sabel. Some persons are easily set up by 
 imaginary attentions, and — " 
 
 " It is a pity for young people to deceive 
 themselves," interposed Aunt Alice ; " I am 
 positive Captain Ashbrook means nothing to- 
 wards Rosa, at any rate ; and that had Char- 
 lotte had the same opportunity at Medlicote — " 
 
 " How calmly the gentleman took the news 
 this morning," pursued Mrs. "Waldegrave, "of
 
 287 
 
 Miss Rosa's approaching departure ; and how 
 evidently his thoughts were fixed upon another 
 person." 
 
 " He was told too," added Aunt Alice, ad- 
 dressing Rosabel, " that you were going away 
 to-morrow — yet not a word." 
 
 " Was he then here ?" thought Rosabel : 
 " and shall I not see him again ?" Yet pride, 
 and a determination not to afford others a 
 triumph over her, made her quell the bitter 
 disappointment which this intelligence occa- 
 sioned her. She stood erect, and reined in, 
 from no very proper motives to be sure, her 
 ever acute, sometimes misguided feelings. 
 
 " You may go to Southwell," resumed Mrs. 
 Waldegrave, with the calmness of determined 
 spite — " you may go to Southwell, happy, if you 
 can be happy, that you have rivalled, or at- 
 tempted to rival, your sister : a mere attempt, 
 indeed ; like most evil undertakings, it has not 
 succeeded, although it has made her, poor thing, 
 very miserable." 
 
 Charlotte, who, like most selfish people, 
 wept readily, when her own misfortunes were 
 touched upon, laid aside her tambour frame,
 
 288 
 
 and began, in her own measured way, to shed 
 tears. 
 
 " It is so hard upon the eldest," said Aunt 
 Alice — 
 
 " Sister, I have done," exclaimed Mrs. Wal- 
 degrave. " However Miss Rosabel may act, 
 it can be of no consequence eventually to her 
 sister. In short, I am wearied with the sub- 
 ject. Rosabel, I recommend you — you are not 
 to be ordered, I see — I recommend you to 
 withdraw : your presence distresses Charlotte." 
 
 But her words, though tempered by an air of 
 dignified lenity, fell unheeded. Rosabel, 
 pained, as she had been, for herself, now ex- 
 perienced a feeling far more poignant to her 
 generous nature than all the varied emotions 
 which she had suffered during this conversation. 
 She looked at Charlotte — she saw the unwonted 
 tears: to her imagination, her sister really ap- 
 peared ill, and dejected. She still fondly loved 
 Charlotte ; the thousand associations of infancy 
 and childhood — the mysterious bond of nature — 
 had still their influence over a heart affection- 
 ate and sensitive. Self reproach added its 
 sting: she was utterly subdued, penitent, and
 
 289 
 
 miserable. She felt that she would, at this 
 moment, have relinquished every thing, even 
 Captain Ashbrook's affection, if Charlotte could 
 be restored to her as she had once known her, 
 and if her own warm feelings could have scope 
 and vent in their natural channel. 
 
 Unrestrained by the chilling presence of her 
 aunts, and eager for forgiveness and reconcili- 
 ation, she approached Charlotte, and, stooping 
 near her work table, looked earnestly in her 
 sister's face. 
 
 " Charlotte," she said, " is it true that I have 
 distressed you ? — that I have interfered with 
 your hopes of happiness ? If so, I shall be 
 thankful to leave home, not only for a time, 
 but for ever. I did not know, I did not think, 
 that you were particularly interested in Cap- 
 tain Ashbrook ; for I suppose it is that which 
 my aunt means. Only tell me what I am io 
 do — only be the same kind Charlotte to me as 
 ever— only — " But her voice was interrupted 
 by tears, and the rest of the sentence was in- 
 audible. 
 
 She waited for some moments for a reply, 
 and, again raising her head, looked earnestly 
 at her sister — 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 290 
 
 " Charlotte, say that you love me — say that 
 you forgive me." 
 
 " I really do not know what you mean, Rosa. 
 — I cannot guess what all this scene is about. 
 You are very kind and very condescending, to 
 give up Captain Ashbrook in my favour, before 
 he has ever thought of you, most likely ; but 
 I really don't care at all about the matter." 
 
 " Well, then, Charlotte — let us be as we once 
 were, as we should ever be," replied Rosabel, 
 imploringly. 
 
 " 1 appeal to my aunts," answered the pru- 
 dent Charlotte, " whether I have ever behaved 
 improperly to any one of my sisters. I really 
 do not know wdiat Rosa has to complain of; 
 do you, Aunt Waldegrave ? do you, Aunt 
 Alice ?" 
 
 A torrent of encomiums and assents followed, 
 with " no, my dear ; you are most exemplary ; 
 such a pattern to your sister! — Complain of, 
 indeed ! the complaints were all on the other 
 side." 
 
 " Then I shall say no more ," cried Rosabel, 
 reddening with indignation. " Charlotte, I 
 might have expected this from you ; but I 
 know to what, and to whom, I may attribute
 
 291 
 
 this alienation — this heart-breaking unkind- 
 ness — this cruel indifference." And, wrought 
 up to the last pitch of irritation, she impe- 
 tuously broke from the apartment, and soon 
 obtained the repose of her own chamber. 
 
 Repose of mind was, however, at any rate, 
 denied to Rosabel ; and, like many other per- 
 sons, she could not allow her body to be quiet 
 when her spirit was restless. Action was in- 
 dispensable, and, wearied as she was with her 
 long walk in the morning, she longed to catch 
 another parting view of Ashbrook before the 
 day closed in. 
 
 The afternoon was windy, though clear from 
 hitherto threatening rain, and the tall tops of 
 the elm trees bowed, and slight branches were 
 even torn from the parent stem, as Rosabel, 
 not without fear of observation, passed fleetly 
 down an avenue which extended on the side of 
 the park nearest to Ashbrook. Bitter were 
 the thoughts which pressed upon her mind. 
 To injustice and coldness she had been for 
 several years inured. Her Aunts, like many 
 ladies who are accustomed to have their own 
 way, were warm partizans, and bitter enemies ; 
 for it is the error of our ^ex to make every thing 
 O 2
 
 292 
 
 a party matter ; to suppose that, in espousing 
 the interests of one individual, we are justified 
 in running down the merits of another. Rosa- 
 bel had irremediably offended her aunts on 
 many occasions ; she had wounded their pride, 
 and even defied their power. From them she 
 expected no mercy ; but Charlotte — ah ! how 
 bitter was the sting which the recollection of 
 Charlotte's conduct imparted! 
 
 Partly in sorrow, and partly in anger, she now 
 reflected, however, that her sister had thrown 
 away all claim to her generosity and forbear- 
 ance as far as Captain Ashbrook was concerned, 
 and that she was henceforward free to love him. 
 I should very much depart from the truth of 
 my narrative, did I not confess that Rosabel 
 even felt her footsteps quickened towards Ash- 
 brook, and her resolution to follow her inclina- 
 tions stimulated, when she thought of the man- 
 ner in which her sister had cast her from her, 
 and remembered how contemptuously she had 
 rejected all concessions on her own part. Poor 
 Rosabel ! Retribution, which visits all wanderers 
 from the fold of Christian charity, came also 
 to her ill-regiilatod, though perhaps excusable 
 emotions. Time, and the world, bring their
 
 293 
 
 own chastening along with them. Happy are 
 those who receive such correctives into the 
 good seed of a mind not utterly depraved by 
 selfishness, or hardened by frequent delin- 
 quencies. 
 
 Rosabel at length reached a little break in the 
 woods, whence she could see a window or two, — 
 and part of a chimney-top of Ashbrook House ; 
 and on this precious sight her eyes rested with 
 the fond imaginative gaze of seventeen. A 
 very narrow lane separated the two estates ; 
 there was only a gap in the hedge to get through, 
 on the one side, and a ditch to jump over; and, 
 on the other, a five-barred gate to mount, and 
 then any one might pass into a field, from which 
 Rosabel had been told, by Hubert, there was to 
 be discerned the lawn before the house, and 
 perhaps Captain Ashbrook walking, possibly his 
 dog, at any rate, and a peacock or two. What 
 temptations to the love-sick and enthusiastic ! 
 And Rosabel, with her usual disregard of con- 
 sequences and appearances, scrambled through 
 the hedge, surmounted the ditch, and was deli- 
 berating about scaling the gate, when a well- 
 known voice, near her, made her stop in tre- 
 mor. It was Captain Ashbrook, as happy and
 
 294 
 
 confused as herself; or, perhaps, if possible, 
 more so. 
 
 I must suppose my readers to be deficient in 
 imagination, and certainly never to have been 
 in love, if they could require to be told that, 
 as Rosabel retraced her steps homeward, 
 her arm resting upon that of Captain Ash- 
 brook, disclosures on both sides took place ; 
 which would have electrified Mrs. Waldegrave 
 and Miss Alice, had they not been happily un- 
 conscious of such proceedings. Captain Ash- 
 brook was all anxiety to arrest Rosabel's jour- 
 ney to Southwell, by a direct proposal to her 
 father ; but to this there were some obstacles, 
 for pressing military business, at this time, 
 called him toLondon, and he knew that Rosa- 
 bel would be happier with Mrs. Evelyn than at 
 home, in her present state of feeling. 
 
 Rosabel, on the other hand, happy as she 
 felt she ought to be, secretly reproached her- 
 self with the dread of inflicting suffering upon 
 Charlotte ; and desired, although she could not 
 allege the reason, that no mention should be 
 made of their now acknowledged attachment 
 until after her return from Southwell ; for she 
 felt her heart more softened to her sister bv
 
 295 
 
 her own present happiness, than it would have 
 been by a hundred lectures, or by many mo- 
 ments of solitary reflection. Correspondence, 
 without which our degenerate modern lovers 
 could not exist a week, was proposed by Cap- 
 tain Ashbrook, but instantly rejected ; for, in 
 those days, the parental consent was held in 
 reverence ; and, before that had been formally 
 obtained, such a communication would have 
 been deemed dishonourable on the one side, 
 and undutiful on the other. An absence of a 
 few weeks would be nothing ; and Rosabel's 
 return would be hailed by an immediate pro- 
 posal on Captain Ashbrook's part, made in all 
 due form, and to be followed by rent-rolls and 
 settlements ; about which one party cared as 
 little, and the other knew as little, as any two 
 persons breathing. 
 
 Both Rosabel and Captain Ashbrook were, 
 in the common acceptation of the word, ex- 
 tremely happy ; — but, are people happy imme- 
 diately after entering into a decided engage- 
 ment to be married ? I deem the actual nature 
 of the feeling to be very questionable; like 
 taking the shower-bath — you will, and you will 
 not ; your whole intellectual and corporeal
 
 296 
 
 system suffers a shock — it is some time before 
 you can recover, what is so much for your 
 benefit ; and the glow of delight which ensues, 
 is preceded by a shivering fit. 
 
 Rosabel perhaps felt, on this occasion, the 
 most intensely ; neither had she the prudence 
 nor the art to conceal, if she had wished to do so, 
 what passed in her mind. To her, the novelty 
 of being beloved, was the more exhilarating 
 from the contrast with the depressing effects of 
 unjust partiality and neglect at home ; yet such 
 poignant concern for her sister was mingled 
 with what she considered her own selfish feli- 
 city, that when Captain Ashbrook, with the 
 ardour of a man for the first time really in 
 love, entreated her at least to allow him to 
 consider their engagement as final, in all save 
 the consent of Sir John, she almost shrunk 
 back, as if she had taken a step of which she 
 already repented. Captain Ashbrook, like all 
 persons whose attachment is worth securing, 
 was confiding, but not presuming, and was even 
 diffident and apprehensive where his affections 
 were really touched. He had been hitherto 
 held back from an explicit avowal of his in- 
 terest in Rosabel, by the dread of her being
 
 297 
 
 induced, from her un happiness at home, or com- 
 manded by parental authority, to accept him 
 as a lover before her evident partiality for his 
 society had been matured into a decided pre- 
 ference, and, consequently, into a regard which 
 would not only endure through the first gay 
 and unchequered months of a propitious mar- 
 riage, but would be found stable in the vicissi- 
 tudes of life ; and stable, not merely from duty, 
 but from strong attachment. All this he consi- 
 dered the more indispensable, because he was 
 ten years Rosabel's senior ; and he had felt 
 the more apprehensive from the vivacity and 
 impetuosity of her character, and from her 
 ignorance of the world. He had feared that 
 she could scarcely know her own mind ; that 
 she would be taught, perhaps commanded, to 
 think that she loved him, by those who were 
 interested in promoting her marriage. 
 
 Influenced by these fears, notwithstanding 
 Rosabel's recently avowed preference, Captain 
 Ashbrook, as he fancied that he saw her reso- 
 lution waver, became anxious and thoughtful, 
 and intensely apprehensive about the real state 
 of her heart. Before his avowal of his own 
 feelings, he could, with some difficulty, it is 
 
 03
 
 298 
 
 true, have withdrawn from any further pursuit 
 of his wishes, had he been certain that they 
 were disagreeable to Rosabel : but all true 
 attachments increase upon confession, and he 
 felt that now his whole happiness was bound 
 up in the result of this one day's conversation. 
 Rosabel's reluctance to have his offer made 
 known at present, her dread of considering 
 the engagement final, her evident desire to 
 find some means of retreating, if necessary, 
 filled his mind with perplexity, and inspired 
 that most cruel of all uncertainties, the doubt 
 of having a true attachment returned : nor was 
 this feeling dispelled when they parted, — 
 although that parting was, on Rosabel's side, 
 reluctant ; and although it was mutually un- 
 derstood, that it was a parting preliminary only 
 to a meeting, when every difficulty would be 
 smoothed, and their union be made indissoluble.
 
 299 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Gon. I have inly wept, 
 
 Or should have spoke ere this. 
 Alan. Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart 
 That doth not wish you joy." — Tempest. 
 
 The next day was one of departures ; Mr. 
 Lermont had fixed upon it for his setting out, 
 and Hubert was to accompany him to the 
 metropolis. Breakfast was ordered at an early 
 hour ; and Sir John, who had latterly been from 
 home, made a point of joining his family this 
 morning. 
 
 "Ah! my good sir," cried Mr. Lermont, 
 holding up the newspaper in his hand, "I have 
 the start of you this morning ; but it is for the 
 last time." 
 
 " — And we shall have those odious politics 
 no more," said Charlotte, as she seated herself. 
 
 " You ladies think of nothing but caps and 
 bonnets," cried Hubert; "and that is the reason 
 that you don't like politics."
 
 300 
 
 " Do young men never think of their waist- 
 coats, or their regimentals, Hubert?" enquired 
 Mr. Lermont. 
 
 " — And that is to please the ladies, after all," 
 observed Charlotte. 
 
 " Ladies ? Ladies think the world is made 
 for them !" answered Hubert: " for my part, if 
 ever I have a house of my own, the gentlemen 
 shall be helped first, and take precedence in 
 every thing; they shall have the best places. It 
 is a horrid bore coming after half-a-dozen sisters 
 in every thing." 
 
 " Well ! Hubert," said Sir John, " you will 
 not have that trial of your patience long: you 
 will see little enough of your sisters, or of fe- 
 male society in general for these four or five 
 years, I hope." 
 
 "No! sir. I hope Mr. Lermont intends 
 putting up at good quarters in London — at the 
 Chapter Coffee-house, I suppose. — None of 
 your Bouverie Streets, or Craven Streets, for 
 me. — I intend planting myself down in the 
 Hay market or Bond Street." 
 
 " Indeed! Hubert, I disapprove of your ar- 
 rangements in that respect : your brother Phil-
 
 301 
 
 lip would have done better to have avoided those 
 fashionable haunts : 1 do not wish you to walk 
 in his steps ; they will neither suit your expec- 
 tations, nor my " means, Sir John would 
 
 have added, but the word seemed to overcome 
 him, and he walked to the window. 
 
 Hubert received this rebuke in silence, re- 
 doubled his attack upon the creature comforts 
 around him, and glanced askance to glean 
 some comfort from Rosabel's eyes. He looked 
 at her with surprise ; for her head was bent 
 down, as if with shame or grief, and she re- 
 turned no responsive glance. Sir John returned 
 to the table : " You will have miserable 
 weather, Mr. Lermont — and, let me see, — Ro- 
 sabel is to set off to day. — This weather will 
 never do. Rosa, my dear, I hope you will not 
 be very much disappointed, if I say, wait till 
 to-morrow — " 
 
 " — Both on your own account, Rosa, and on 
 that of the horses," said Hubert. 
 
 Rosabel tried to look up and smile, but imme- 
 diately afterwards bent her head forwards, and 
 continued silent. 
 
 «_Yet I should be sorry to disappoint you
 
 302 
 
 too, Rosa ; knowing, from your Aunts, that you 
 are so anxious to go." 
 
 " The glasses are rising, Sir John," said 
 Mrs. Waldegrave, " and James tells me that 
 this pair of horses is remarkably strong." 
 
 " Ah ! the horses — that is the great matter," 
 said Hubert — " Rosa is sure to take no harm." 
 
 "If it had been Charlotte," observed weak 
 Aunt Alice, " I should say nothing ; because, 
 brother, as you know, Charlotte has never en- 
 joyed but a very poor state of health ; but Rosa- 
 bel is exceedingly hearty, brother ; — so — " 
 
 " Oh ! she never catches cold," said Hubert: 
 " I would back one Rosabel against a corps of 
 Charlottes." 
 
 w I do not require your advice, Hubert," said 
 Sir John, gravely ; " I will rather leave it to 
 Rosa herself to decide. — She shall follow, in 
 this instance, her own inclination ; I will con- 
 sult her judgment in preference to yours. — 
 With all her imperfections on her head," he 
 added, smiling, " I do not wish to lose her. 
 Nay, Rosa — there is no occasion for those tears 
 — I am not compelling you, my dear, either to 
 go or stay — you give way too much of late to a
 
 303 
 
 morbid sensibility; let me rather recommend to 
 you the example of your sister, who preserves 
 an equilibrium in her deportment which is 
 highly to be praised." 
 
 " Charlotte, sir, is greatly my superior, and 
 I know it," replied Rosabel, with deep humility 
 of manner. " If Charlotte wishes me to stay, 
 I will stay ; but if Charlotte wishes me to go — " 
 and her tears fell faster. 
 
 "Well," said Hubert, "I always make off 
 when I see a parcel of women crying. Aunt 
 Waldegrave, you're the best, for you have 
 always dry eyes. Come, sir, we shall meet 
 with some of the Finchley heroes, if we are 
 benighted. Good-bye, Aunt Waldegrave; good- 
 bye, Aunt Alice ; good-bye, Charlotte, Mrs. 
 Ashbrook that shall be ; good-bye, Rosa — I 
 hope some Derbyshire parson may suit you — 
 now don't be writing to me any of your crossed 
 and double-crossed letters, confounded non- 
 sense — I will send you a dispatch next week, 
 if I happen to think of it. Well, sir?" 
 
 Mr. Lermont was, however, resolved to 
 know the fate of Rosabel before his departure. 
 " Sir John," thought he, " is leaning towards
 
 304 
 
 her remaining at home, and she and my friend 
 Henry will be happy yet. — I will see Miss 
 Rosabel to her chariot first — if she is to go ; — 
 what says Miss Fortescue?" 
 
 " Oh !" replied Charlotte, " it would be most 
 unbecoming in me to decide, when my aunts 
 are present — would it not, AuntWaldegrave?" 
 
 " I will go, if you please, sir," said Rosabel, 
 in a tone of deep depression ; and she advanced 
 timidly towards her father. Sir John looked 
 kindly at her, and saw that some unusual causes 
 of humiliation and distress were working in the 
 mind of his dejected Rosabel : she was, in fact, 
 sustaining the heavy burden of a wounded spi- 
 rit, of a mind ill at ease with itself. Naturally 
 averse to concealments, she yet, at this very mo- 
 ment, stood before her father, conscious of con- 
 cealment from him upon a subject which in those 
 days (ours are times of independance) always 
 rested upon a parental fiat, and upon which no 
 blessing, as she thought, could fall without her 
 father's approbation. She felt, unjustly indeed, 
 criminal to her sister, towards whom her heart 
 still turned with true, but unrequited, affection. 
 A kind word, or glance, from Charlotte would
 
 305 
 
 have immediately elicited a full confession 
 from Rosabel ; but Charlotte had a soul of 
 marble, a heart utterly ossified by selfishness. 
 Rosabel, therefore, prepared to depart. Her 
 attendants were ready, the imperials were 
 packed, through the watchful care of Mrs. 
 Waldegrave, and Mr. Lermont stood at the 
 breakfast parlour door, ready to hand her first 
 to her carriage. Yet Rosabel lingered, in hopes 
 of some kind parting w T ord from Charlotte, 
 and longing to throw herself into her father's 
 arms, and weep out all her troubles there. 
 Charlotte merely coldly kissed her, saying — 
 " Make my duty to my aunt and uncle, if you 
 please." And Sir John rather repressed than 
 encouraged the fond, caressing manner which 
 was natural to Rosabel, and which not all the 
 forms of parental superiority could banish from 
 her artless manners ; so in a few minutes she 
 was seated, finally seated, in the chariot; Hubert 
 jumping into his chaise at the same moment, 
 and Mr. Lermont standing on the steps, his 
 grey hair blowing about, and something very 
 like tears apparent in his eyes. 
 
 Rosabel sank back in the carriage. The
 
 306 
 
 parting was over. She left her home un- 
 mourned, and probably unmissed. Xo fond 
 regrets, nor tender lingering farewells had 
 made her feel that she was leaving a home 
 of affection, that her absence would impart a 
 moment's gloom to any one, or her return add 
 much to the domestic happiness. Her mother — 
 how would she have felt at this first separation 
 from her daughter ? But the thought was too 
 poignant, and poor Rosabel abandoned herself 
 to the most depressing of all impressions, that of 
 being unprized and uncared for by those upon 
 whose opinions and affections we have early 
 been accustomed to place account. " I have no 
 friend but one," thought she, as she looked 
 round once more and took a last look of 
 Ashbrook. The conviction revived her, and 
 a variety of hopes and feelings followed in its 
 train ; many of them more natural than com- 
 mendable. She began to plume herself upon 
 her expectations. Her father would begin to 
 prize her, when he saw her the chosen com- 
 panion of a man of acquirement and refinement 
 like Captain Ashbrook: her aunts would find 
 that they had entertained too light an opinion
 
 307 
 
 of her merits. Charlotte would perhaps learn 
 to be fond of her ; but all these, the consider- 
 ations of an offended spirit, and the fruits of an 
 ill-regulated mind, gave place in their ascen- 
 dancy in her imagination to the overpowering 
 happiness of being tenderly and exclusively be- 
 loved. Possessed, at length, wholly by these 
 reflections, Rosabel journeyed on comparatively 
 in happiness. The sun appeared to her to 
 brighten, and the road to be embellished with 
 new beauties, as her mental atmosphere im- 
 proved. The novelty of travelling added to 
 the stimulus ; and she looked forth on the 
 varied and now romantic scenes through which 
 she passed with an awakened interest. By 
 degrees, the troubles and the concerns of 
 home appeared less important to her. She saw 
 that there was a world beyond Hales Park ; 
 new ideas arose, and she began to be curious 
 about the concerns, and feelings, and passions, 
 and occupations of others. 
 
 It was almost night-fall, before the travellers 
 turned off the high road into a narrow and rutty 
 lane, which led across this part of the country 
 to Southwell, the village where Mr. Evelyn
 
 308 
 
 resided. It was a clear, fine afternoon in 
 March, and the sounds of the sheep bell, and 
 the sight of the rustic shepherd boy, were soon, 
 in that unfrequented region, where then the 
 cotton mill was unknown, tne only vestiges of 
 occupation and of social habits. The night had 
 quite closed in, before the carriage, after 
 ascending for some time, entered a straggling 
 village, and Rosabel and her attendant hailed 
 the cottage lights, though few and far between, 
 and heard with satisfaction, the sounds of voices. 
 At length they stopped before a wicket gate, 
 and Rosabel was advised to descend into the 
 rector's garden by a flight of steps ; in pre- 
 ference to turning into the stable yard, garnished 
 round with wooden barns, out-houses, and 
 sheds, for the reception of the good mans 
 tithes in kind ; the post-boy, who knew the 
 Rectory well, assuring Rosabel that the yard 
 was never too clean, and that, from a late 
 trampling of young creatures — heifers, lambs, 
 and other rustic contributions — it was now al- 
 most impassable by foot. Rosabel, therefore, 
 leaving her servant to unpack the luggage, 
 made her way as well as she could round to the
 
 309 
 
 front door, which opened into the garden. 
 She was an unexpected visitor, and in fear 
 and trembling, for it was several years since 
 she had seen her aunt, and her uncle she had 
 never known, she navigated her course with 
 difficulty down a dark passage, until she ar- 
 rived at the sitting parlour, where the rector 
 and the rector's lady were spending in tranquil 
 tete-a-tete their unbroken evening. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
 
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