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THE

SORROWS OF GEITILITY.

EY

GEKALDINE E, JEWSBUEY.

AUTHOR OF
'CONSTANCE IlERBEET," " MARIAN WITHERS," "HALF SISTERS," "ZOE,"

ETC., ETC.

'Ccorge Dandin vous 1'avez voulu." — Molieke.

iowontr Litton.

LONDON:
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY.

1864.

TO

JOHN FORSTER, ESQ.

THIS BOOK

' INSCEIBED

BY THE AUTHOR.

THE SOBEOWS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER I.

" Shabby gentility " is to social life what " Brummagen
wares " are to the things they imitate. In both cases there is
elaborate workmanship bestowed on a worthless material, to
produce the result which the honest Jew desired, when he
directed that his mock silver spoons should be " stamped with a
dog, which was to be made as much like a lion as possible."

Counterfeits mark a high deg'ree of civilisation, and great
cultivation of the arts and sciences they represent ; but of all
the mournful expenditure of human faculty and human energy,
the struggles of "shabby gentility" are the most deplorable,
The contrivance, the zeal, the patience, displayed in making the
results of a sixpence (honest, unpretending coin that it is ! with
its exact value on the face of it) pass for the result of that
handsome, truly prosperous piece of money, the half-crown!,
would suffice to carry a Chancellor of the Exchequer through a
difficult budget. After all, it is only sixpennyworth of imita-
tion— the dog made to look like a lion. But the strain, and
the pain, and the burden of pretence are no mean addition

2 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

to the inevitable load of difficulties laid on the shoulders of all
the children of men, when they come into this unlucky world —
unlucky, because it is endowed with the hard name of being a
wicked one.

The market town of Dunnington is situated in the heart of
one of the midland counties, and lies on the main road to
London. It is a quiet, sleepy little town, and consists of one
long straggling street, and half another, which runs up a hill,
at the top of which is the old church, standing in the midst of
its church-yard, and commanding a view of one of the fairest
and richest agricultural districts that England can boast; the
broad meadows studded like parks, with fine old timber and
hedge-rows, which, in their ample luxuriance, must have been
the growth of many years.

Dunnington has neither trade nor manufactures.; but it boasts
an Inn worthy of the "hostels" of old, which gained for England
the fame of having the best in the world. It was an old build-
ing, and might have stood in the time of Shakespeare, from its
appearance. The house was built round three sides of a large
yard, the fourth side of which was occupied by stables, which
extended backwards to some distance. A pair of large coach
gates afforded admittance from the street.

The house had a singularly inviting appearance, with its
dazzling whitewash, and the dark red tiles that paved the
entrance hall.

A choice breed of pigeons cooed and sunned themselves among
the old chimney-stacks, or stepped up and down the moss-grown

roof.

Altogether, this Inn, which bore the sign of the " Metringham
Arms," on a beam extending across the street, had a look of
comfort, good cheer, and homely farm-yard rusticity, which
made it much more attractive than the stately, imposing race of

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITT. 3

hotels which have grown up since the days when the " Metring-
ham Arms " was in its glory.

This house was kept by Simon Morley. He was a farmer as
well as an innkeeper, and held a farm under Lord Metringham,
who was the chief landowner on that side of the county.

The rent-days were always kept at the " Metringham Arms,"
which not only made a high festival in the house, but was
equivalent to a handsome per centage off his rent.

Simon Morley, from small beginnings, had amassed some
money, and even possessed a little land of his own.

He kept dogs, and took out a game license ; he was passion-
ately fond of field sports, and it was a great sporting neigh-
bourhood. He was a hard rider, a hard drinker, an excellent
shot, the best judge of horse-flesh in the whole county ; he was
a capital companion, told excellent stories, and sang equally
excellent songs ; he possessed a vein of shrewd caustic wit, and
was altogether rather a notable character. His social virtues
might have been the ruin of his prosperity had they not been
joined to other qualities. He was a hard hand at driving a
bargain, and an adept in the art of making money ; he had also
a tight grip to keep what he made, in spite of his apparent
joviality.

In appearance he was a portly good-looking man. He wore
drab breeches, yellow-topped boots, striped waistcoats of a
pattern long since vanished, and ample coats of broad cloth cut
sporting wise.

Mrs. Morley, his wife, had once been a county beauty, and still
possessed a certain full-blown comeliness. She presided over
the house, and assisted her husband heart and soul in the busi-
ness of money-making, which indeed both of them believed to
be the "chief end of man."

Under her auspices the fame of the comforts of the house was

4s THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

so well established, that most of the travellers who had to pass
through the town so contrived their journey as either to dine or
to sleep at the " Metringham Arms."

There was no great display of plate or china, but the linen
was sumptuous in its delicate fineness. There was not such
poultry to be found for ten miles round ; and Mrs. Morley's pork
pies, covered all over as they were with extraordinary hiero-
glyphical ornaments of pastry, and her cheesecakes (to which
those of Prince What's-his-name, in the "Arabian Nights, "
could not be compared) were famed far and near. The beds
were all hung with fair white dimity, and the sheets laid up in
lavender still retained the fragrance of the hedge-rows and
meadows. To crown all the attractions, there was the motherly
good-humoured face of Mrs. Morley, as she appeared smiling at
the entrance of the house to welcome her guests, or to bid them
farewell ; no wonder they were so numerous and so well con-
tented !

Nothing could be more happy, respectable, or prosperous,
than the lot of Simon Morley and his Gertrude.

We must own to one drawback. The " love of money," which
is " the root of all evil," had struck its fibres into the heart of
this well-respected couple. They loved money, they desired to
make money, they respected money more than any other earthly
thing : it was their only standard of value.

The people in the neighbourhood were all high Tories, as is
the custom in purely agricultural districts, and the Morleys
shared in the traditional respect for the county families, begin-
ning of course with Lord Metringham, their landlord, who, in
their eyes, was second only to the king. They had no tempta-
tion to imitate their betters, nor to struggle into a station above
their own.

They were too busy for much visiting. An occasional tea

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 5

party, followed by a sumptuous supper, to which the lawyer, the
doctor, and the principal shopkeeper of the place were invited,
and from time to time an appearance at church in the very
richest satin gown and very handsomest bonnet that money
could furnish, satisfied all Mrs. Morley's aspirations after social
distinction ; whilst Simon Morley rode to all the markets round
on his clever little mare, and combined social amusement with
profit, by driving hard bargains for his barley and wheat.

The. only thing that Simon Morley and his wife despised
was — poverty. Poverty, no matter how gilded by genius,
education, or connections — poverty was the deadly sin of their
decalogue. Mrs. Morley reverenced the vicar ; but she looked
down upon the curate, in spite of his cloth, though she frequently
sent him presents of game or poultry, and tithings of the good
things that might be left after a county dinner or rent day.

This worthy couple were blessed with two children, a son and
a daughter. The son, Simon Morley trained up after his own
fashion. Whilst scarcely able to walk, he was set on horseback
and allowed the run of the stable-yard, mounted on the box
beside the coachman and post-boys, who delighted in his spirit.
He trotted on his little pony, beside his father, when he went to
the neighbouring towns — was taken out coursing, and allowed
a gun of his own, when other boys were poaching after birds'
nests and playing at marbles. The only beating on record
which Simon Morley ever bestowed upon his son was for once
allowing himself to be thrown by a strange horse : the boy's
arm was broken by the fall, and his father tended him like a
nurse until he recovered, and then gave him a hearty chastise-
ment for being so unskilful.

The curate instilled a little reading and writing into him, and
at the age of twelve he was sent to school to finish his educa-
tion, and to be fitted to assist his father in his business.

D THE SOEEOWS OP GENTILITY.

The girl was three years younger than her brother. She was
named Gertrude after her mother, who regarded her as her own
peculiar property. With the bringing up of her son she did
not interfere, but the daughter was the pride of her heart.

She had not much notion of the value of education for its
own sake ; but when she found that the three daughters of the
prosperous haberdasher were sent to a boarding school, she
determined that her Gertrude should " hold up her head with
the best of them." Whilst Gertrude was a child she had a
luxurious nursery, and revelled in an unlimited abundance of
toys; she was never contradicted, and her white frocks were
miracles of fine lace and embroidery. She was a clever child,
giving promise of great beauty, and as spoiled as it was possible
for a child in circumstances so favourable for encouraging the
growth of naughtiness.

At eight years of age she was sent to school " to be taught
everything," as her mother compendiously phrased it.

This early removal from the previous indulgences of home
was in some respects very beneficial to the young Gertrude.
She had a natural aptitude for receiving instruction, and ac-
quired a very creditable proficiency in the various accomplish,
ments taught in the establishment, so that the three Misses Le
French, who conducted it, considered her, except for the draw-
back of her vulgar connexions, as a great credit to their school.

Alas ! with her innocent geography, and history, and tapestry
work, and French, and music, she imbibed other instructions
that were not so harmless. She learned that it was "very low
to keep an inn ; " that when she left school she would occupy a
very inferior position in the world to that of the Miss de Mont-
fords, daughters of Sir Thomas de Montford, a baronet whose
family dated from the time of Henry the Second. One young
lady, whose father was a rich banker, more than once declared

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. /

with a toss of her head, " that her mamma would take her away
from the school when she knew that an inn-keeper's daughter
was received ! "

These things rankled in the heart of the little Gertrude. At
first, with the natural independence of childhood, she rebutted
these impertinences, by declaring that " her papa kept a great
many more carriages and horses than theirs, and that when she
went home at the holidays she had a maid to dress her and a
man-servant to ride behind her on horseback." The great
check, however, to the superciliousness of her young com-
panions were the contents of those large parcels of good things
which generally came to her every week. Everybody can
recollect the temporary importance which the receipt of a
* parcel from home " confers on a school girl.

But, as she grew older, she pondered upon these things.
Accidentally, she came to the knowledge of the fact, that at
first the Misses Le French had refused to tarnish the gentility
of their school by receiving the daughter of an inn-keeper, and
had only been softened by the payment of double stipend and
unlimited extras ; even that would scarcely have sufficed, had
not the interesting appearance of the little Gertrude herself
made the relaxation in her favour unobjectionable so far as she
was concerned.

The thought that she had been received on sufferance was
gall and wormwood to the poor girl, and cost her many secret
tears. The three Misses Le French would have risen up in all
the stately " pomp of virtue," had they been told that there was
the slightest deficiency in the strict morality and propriety they
inculcated upon their pupils. But the fact unfortunately re-
mained, that not one word to prepare her for the difficult duties
of her lot did Gertrude ever hear — nothing to strengthen her,
to turn her thoughts from vanity, to teach her the dignity of

8 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

fulfilling her duties in the station of life in which she had been
placed.

When she was seventeen she was to leave school — a finished
young lady — whom her mother hoped to find a great help and
comfort to her in keeping the books and giving an eye to the
bar!

The day before " breaking up," after the distribution of the
prizes, at which Gertrude had carried off the " prize for dancing
and deportment " and the " prize for music," she was sent for
by the three Misses Le French into their parlour.

" We have sent for you, my dear," said the eldest Miss Le
French, smoothing her delicate lavender-coloured gloves, "to
give you a little good advice before you leave us. We have
every reason to be satisfied with your attention to your studies,
and your general good conduct, since you have been under our
care ; we are sorry to part with you, and we shall ever retain a
feeling of interest in your welfare. In the home to which you
are returning (I would wish to speak with all due respect for
your worthy parents, who must have made many sacrifices to
give you so good an education) ; still, in your home you will be
exposed to many disadvantages, and it is to warn you against
these that is my object in now speaking to you. Keep yourself
as much as you can to yourself, and associate as little as possible
with the inferior persons who come about the house. If it
should chance that any of your former schoolmates should
travel your way, I would not advise you to put yourself forward
to recognise them, but rather keep yourself retired — recollecting
the essential difference of your stations — for whatever your
education may have been, never cease to remember that the
station of your father and mother is the only rightful station
you can claim; but in the resources of your education, and in
the exercise of your various accomplishments (which I earnestly

1HE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 9

entreat you to keep up) I have no doubt that you may pass
your time not unhappily. I should certainly recommend you to
spend not less than three hours a-day in keeping up your profi-
ciency on the harp. You might also practice your drawing
with advantage. I presume your mother will allow you to
have a private sitting-room, and to that I would advise you to
confine yourself as much as possible."

The eldest Miss Le French ceased to speak, and the second
sister took up the word.

" I have a little to add to my sister's admirable remarks ; I
only say to you, be as select as possible in your acquaintance,
and above all, shun scenes of vulgar gaiety. I think you might
find it advantageous to join yourself to some visiting, or mis-
sionary, or sewing society, which is under good patronage. It
might be the means of making you acquainted with highly
respectable persons, and be a mode of getting on in society;
added to which you would have the satisfaction to know that
you were doing good."

"And, my dear Miss Morley," said the young Miss Le French,
" I hope, after the education you have had with us, that I need
not exhort you to be remarkably guarded in your manners to
those of the other sex. You are certainly attractive in your
appearance, which, in your position, will be a source of danger
to you. It is not a point upon which I can or ought to enlarge,
—your own good sense will show you what I mean. I only
say, to be sure of the intentions of any young man you allow to
address you, and do not be flattered into the belief that a young
man has any serious intentions unless he tells you so in precise
terms. I have written your name in this excellent little book,
which I present to you as a token of remembrance, and I hope
its admonitions may be of use in times of perplexity."

10 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

Here Miss Louisa Le French gave Gertrude an elegantly
bound copy of " Dr. Gregory's Advice to his Daughters," to
which were added " Mrs. Ohapone's Letters." The two elder
sisters also presented her with a testimony of their regard ; and
the next day a chaise from the " Metringham Arms " came to
take Gertrude " home for good."

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. H

CHAPTER II.

When Gertrude arrived at home the house was in a state of
great bustle ; an earl's travelling carriage had driven up a mo-
ment before, and the occupants were stopping to dine. All
Mrs. Morley's faculties were, for the instant, fully engaged, and
she had only time to bestow a moment's greeting upon Ger-
trude.

Gertrude made her own way to the nursery, which had now
become her bedroom, where she was left undisturbed, though
the sounds from below made it evident that her tranquillity was
not shared by the rest of the house.

After awhile she proceeded to the sitting-room, which had
usually been hers during the vacations, but it was now occupied,
and she again retreated to her bedroom, the only spot which,
it appeared, she could call her own.

The last admonitions of Miss Le French rung in her ears
and rankled in her heart. They had given a definite shape to
the vague thoughts which had long been stirring within her,
and she felt a disgust amounting to shame at the home to which
she had returned. It was twelve months since she had seen it,
the preceding holidays having been spent at school ; so that all

12

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

the peculiarities of home had lost much of their old familiar
air, and struck her with an unpleasing sense of novelty.
Weary of being- alone, and deterred from going in search of
her mother by the certainty that she would be engaged, Ger-
trude was reduced to study Miss Le French's parting gift to
beguile the time. It added to her discomfort, for its admoni-
tions were all addressed to young women eligibly situated in
life, in highly refined and fastidious circles.

At length she was summoned to dinner ; on her way down
stairs she ran against a valet who was bringing up his master's
portmanteau, and encountered several ladies' maids who were
hurrying about in a state of importance. The dinner was laid
in the little lantern-like bar, which consisted nearly altog-ether
of windows, having been thus constructed to enable Mrs.
Morley to cast a look on all sides, upon the doings of the men-
servants and maid-servants of her establishment.

Simon Morley was extended in his three-cornered easy chair,
in his splashed boots and spurs, just as he had come in from
a long ride. He looked up from his newspaper as Gertrude
entered.

" Why, Ger, how long have you been here ? Nobody ever
found time to tell me you were at home ; but you might have
come to look for one. Well, give us a kiss, and tell us what
they have taught you at school. Have you learned to Parhj-
voo ? And how did you leave Madam Le French, — any of them
likely to be married ? "

Having made these inquiries he seemed to have come to the
end of all he had to say, and Gertrude, who always felt afraid
of her father, did not know how to keep up the conversation
when her brother's entrance made a diversion.

He was a fine-looking, rather heavy young man, dressed

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY. 13

something- between a farmer and a sportsman. He had a hearty
voice, a florid complexion, and provincial accent.

" Why, bless us, Ger, is that you ? I could not think what
fine lady my father had with him ! Why, one is afraid to touch
you." He gave her a hug that nearly dislocated her shoulders,
and then pushed her away to a little distance to contemplate
her appearance in detail.

" And what in the name of wonder do you call this ? " said
he, taking up the corner of her muslin apron, an elaborate
specimen of female industry, a trophy of her own needlework
during three successive half-years. " It beats all I ever saw.
What is the use of it I would like to know, it comes to pieces
with a touch ? " As he spoke, he had, all unintentionally, given
the corner he held a jerk which caused an extensive fracture.

" Dear — how rough you are ! " said Gertrude pettishly. " I
wish you would not meddle with me, it is so rude."

" Come, come, a needle and a thread will make all right,
and, I am sure, you are not within a few stitches to mend it
after taking so many to make it; I did not intend mischief."

But Gertrude, fresh from the unrumpled propriety which the
Misses Le French exacted from their pupils, was sadly discom-
posed at the roughness of her father and brother. There had
never been much companionship between them. Simon Morley
had always considered Gertrude as his wife's concern ; he had
never interfered in her bringing up beyond grumbling at the
amount of her boarding-school bill, the exact total of which,
however, he never knew, as his wife only told him a partial
amount, the remainder being supplied from her own dexterous
economies ; otherwise, Gertrude's education would not have
reached a second half year. As to her brother, he was older
than herself, and had always tormented her with the practical

14 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

jokes and mischievous tricks which cubs of boys so much delight
in inflicting on their sisters; consequently the love between
them was not very striking" ; in fact, there was a standing feud.

Mrs. Morley's entrance prevented further dispute; she had
been detained, to legislate about a bed-room, and the dinner
was nearly cold before they sat down to it.

After dinner, Simon Morley went out with his son to look at
a field of grass which was almost ready for mowing ; and Mrs.
Morley sat down at her little table in her own corner to balance
her cash and enter the transactions of the morning into her
private book. Gertrude was stealing off to her own room,
when her mother called her back, and bid her bring her work
and keep her company. Mrs. Morley was far too busy to talk,
but Gertrude sat still, and that did as well. The afternoon sun
streamed through the windows, and the room was oppressively
hot.

" Do you always sit here in an afternoon, mother ? " said
Gertrude at last, looking up from the apron she was mending.

" Ay, to be sure ; where else should I be ? " replied her
mother, with some surprise. " I had it done up before you
came back, and made quite a nice place of it, thinking it would
be pleasant for you. I have quite looked forward to having
you with me ; now you are come home you can be a deal of
help, for I have more than I can do sometimes."

Gertrude was ready to cry; but just then the three dashing
Miss Slocums entered in a body, and more than filled the little
room with their fine bonnets and fine manners.

They were country beauties, and country fortunes, and in
both capacities considered they had the right to take the lead,
and lay down the law on all points of manners and fashion to
the little town of Dunnington.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 15

The eldest, a tall, well-formed young woman, of two or three
and twenty, was on the point of marriage with a young farmer,
who had a little money of his own, and the farm he occupied
had been held by his fathers before him for several generations.
He was the best match in the neighbourhood, and had been
celebrated for his rural gallantries, so that Miss Arabella was
considered to have achieved a rather brilliant conquest. Miss
Emma, the second sister, was somewhat of a hoyden (which
she considered dashing and spirited), — would ride after the
hounds, and leap a five-barred gate — could row, and play at
cricket — and was the favourite partner at all the dances and
merry-makings in the neighbourhood ; she was the type of a
lionne in higher life. Miss Matilda, the younger, was a pretty,
fair-looking girl, who was considered by her sisters and the
rest of the town as decidedly " bookish ; " because she read all
the tales and poetry she could lay hands upon, and every year
bought herself a pocket-book containing the words of the songs
which had been " sung with applause " during the season, and
extracts from the most moving scenes of some recent novel.
Her secret aspiration was to receive the homage of a lawful
lover like those she had read about. These young women and
Gertrude had played and quarrelled together from their earliest
years; of late there had been a certain ill-defined jealousy, as
they fancied Gertrude was getting above them in their preten-
sions, and they came fully prepared to assert their own supe-
riority if they found her inclined to dispute it. They were ex-
tremely curious to see what she would be like after so long a
sojourn " at boarding-school."

After the first burst of kisses and exclamations there came a
pause ; the natural current of their souls could not flow com-
fortably in the presence of Mrs. Morley. Gertrude was invited

16

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITT.

to come out for a walk, which she gladly did. Once in the
open fields, beyond the church, there was no end to the out-
pouring of their souls. Gertrude being a new comer, had to be
the first listener. She had to hear all the history of the rise
and progress of Miss Slocum's engagement, — to hear "what
particular attentions " a handsome young man, who drove his
own gig and horse, and travelled for his father, was paying
Miss Emma, — and finally she had to listen to Miss Matilda's
rapturous description of the charms of a detachment of cavalry
which had been quartered at Dunnington a few weeks pre-
viously. On this point all the sisters spoke at once, and united
in assuring Gertrude that there never were such interesting,
charming, delightful creatures as the officers, who had not any
nride in them, but had ordered the band to play a whole half-
hour beyond the usual time in front of the " Metringham Arms,"
and that two of them had made acquaintance with their father,
and had come upstairs into the tea-room to look at their draw-
ings and to hear Matilda play and sing.

The amount of wisdom in the unrestrained private conversa-
tion of all young girls is pretty much on an average. The
.Miss Slocums were not more foolish than the general run of
good-natured, good-humoured girls, full of youthful spirits,
unsobered by any of the realities of life ; their communications
were much the same as those which pass among all girls, gentle
or simple ; the difference would be found to lie in the tone and
manner, rather than the matter of discourse. Polly is folly,
whether delivered in clear silvery tones, with the choicest
grammar and accent, or with the boisterous manners, noisy
voices, and strong provincial inflections with which the Miss
Slocums uttered their opinions. Gertrude was as foolish at
heart as any girl need be, — the vanity and folly of the con-

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 17

versation did not strike her; but the vulgarity of her com-
panions did. The refinement she had been taught at school
had reference only to externals, and went no further than the
regulation of voice and manner. She was anxious to get home,
but the Miss Slocums would not hear of her passing their door
without coming in to speak to their mother, who was an in-
valid.

18 THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER III.

They found old Mrs. Slocum sitting- in a padded arm-chair, in
a little stuffy dark back-parlour behind the shop. She was
knitting a lamb's-wool stocking, her only, and never-ending
occupation.

" Here is Gertrude Morley come in to see you mother," said
Miss Slocum in a loud key, for her mother was deaf.

" Well, I should never have known her ! My dear Gertrude,
welcome home ! " and poor Gertrude was nearly stifled in the
embrace which the fat old lady inflicted upon her. It was not
a pleasant process, as Mrs. Slocum was always perfumed with
the odour of camphorated liniment, which she used for her
rheumatism. She made no pretension to be anything ; she was
just a good-natured, motherly, vulgar woman, who had helped
her husband in his shop until he grew rich, and now she aspired
to nothing beyond the luxury of sitting in the chimney-corner
of the little back-room, whence she could overlook the shop
through a little pane of glass in the wall, and knit her lamb's-
wool stocking without molestation.

Mr. Slocum, a little pursy man in black velveteen small-
clothes and grey worsted stockings, came in so soon as he heard
their voices, and claimed the privilege of old acquaintance to

THE SOBEOWS OF GENTILITY. 19

welcome Gertrude home with a hearty kiss, and as Gertrude
had been taught that such things were highly improper, she
felt very much shocked accordmg-ly.

" Nay, pretty one, never hang down your head and look shy
about me," said the old man, cheerily ; " I am an old fellow,
but I should have made any young one jealous who had seen
me ! Why, dear heart o' me, all the young chaps in the
country will be coming courting here, and I shall never keep
the peace among them all, churchwarden as I am ! Eh, wife !
does it not make you feel young again to see all these fine young
lasses around you ? "

Mrs. Slocum replied that Miss Gertrude was a very fine
young lady, and that it would be a great comfort to Mrs. Mor-
ley to have her at home.

The Misses Slocum had a large room upstairs, which they
called the " Tea-room ;" and it was the pride of their hearts,
for in those primitive days a " tea room" was a great distinction.

Persons in the said Mrs. Slocum's rank of life generally sat
in a sort of parlour kitchen, with a morsel of carpet on the red-
tiled floor, and a few comforts in the shape of arm chairs for
the old folks, and a large sofa covered with chintz, and stuffed
with feathers. Even those who possessed " parlours" seldom
thought of sitting in them except on Sundays ; so that when
the Misses Slocum after leaving- school turned a large empty
apartment upstairs into a " tea-room," where they sat every day
of the week playing on she harpsichord, and looking out of the
window at everything who went up the street, the whole town
felt insulted at their pride, and prophesied nothing short of
bankruptcy to their father. This had not, however, hindered
several other families, who thought themselves " quite as good
as the Slocums," from following their example.
3— »

20 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

When Gertrude bad seen and admired the tea-room and all
its glories, she was allowed to return home.

If Gertrude had chosen to make the best of her position, she
might have found several eligible acquaintances in the town,
for the average of human nature is pretty much the same every-
where ; but as they were all more or less wanting in education
and manner, she considered them all as beneath her notice.
The people thought her proud and conceited, and " nothing at
all remarkable for all the money she had cost;" whilst the
young men declared that she was not to be compared with
Emma Slocum. After she had been at home about a week, as
she was one morning preparing to retire, as she usually did, to
her own room, her mother said :

" Come, Gertrude, you must not always be playing ; I want
you to take my place in the bar a little. You must begin to
give-your mind to something useful after all the money spent on
you. I can tell you that your father went into one of his pas-
sions when he heard what the last bill came to — I must say I
think Miss Le French has charged shamefully — but I pacified
him by saying what a good girl you were, and how useful you
would be to me."

The passionate indignation with which Gertrude heard this
terrified her mother, who would have yielded the point and
allowed her to employ herself as she pleased ; but when her
father found how matters were, he declared with an oath that
she should help her mother or go out to service, for he would
harbour no child who thought herself too good to keep com-
pany with her own father "and mother ; and then he vented the
remainder of his wrath upon his wife, declaring it to be her
fault for breeding up her daughter a fine lady, and giving her a
new-fangled education above her station. He declared that if

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 21

he heard of any more nonsense, or saw any sullenness, he would
lay his whip across her shoulders, and turn her out of doors.

Gertrude was terrified at his violence, and completely sub-
dued. Henceforth she took her appointed place at her mother's
little table, made out the bills, kept the books, and did every-
thing that was required of her. She saved her father the
expense of another servant, which was all he cared for. Her
mother thought that so long as she was not too much confined,
and had plenty of handsome clothes, trinkets, and pocket-money,
that she could not help being happy. She was very proud of
her, and secretly cherished the hope that she would make a
great match, and ride in her coach.

Poor Gertrude was very much to be pitied. Her position, at
the best, was seriously objectionable for any young woman; but
she had been so completely unfitted for it by the absurdly un-
suitable education her mother's vanity had bestowed, that the
door was opened to many more dangers than would otherwise
have beset her.

Gertrude's appearance was too striking not to attract atten-
tion. She had many adorers ; but she turned a cold ear to them
all, for none of them could have removed her from the scenes
she loathed.

Her mother encouraged her to hold her head high. She was
not without a secret hope that some young nobleman, as he
passed through, might fall in love with her daughter and marry
her; no other solution ever occurred to her unsophisticated
mind. And as time rolled on, Gertrude grew still more impa-
tient of her situation ; it seemed to her impossible that she
could endure it much longer.

22 THE SOBEOWS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER IV.

This state of things continued for some time, or rather con-
tinued to get worse and worse, for Gertrude grew every day
more wretched and discontented.

One morning, as she sat down after breakfast to her desk to
write out a bill " for the gentleman in No. 13," her mother
entered with an open letter in her hand.

"Here, Gertrude, read this letter, and tell me what it all
means. It is franked by Lord Metringham himself, and there
is a letter enclosed to you which I have not read. Who is Mr.
Mellish, of Palace House ? "

"Miss Mellish was a schoolfellow of mine," said Gertrude,
" and we used to be great friends ; but her father is a very
proud old man, and forbid her to correspond with me, and I
thought she had forgotten all about me. What can she have
to say to me now ? "

" Well, read these aloud to me, for I cannot well make out
the writing without my spectacles, which I have put down some-
where. But do not hurry ; finish what you are doing first."

As soon as she was at liberty, Gertrude read the letters. The
first was from Mr. Mellish, written with stately politeness, re-
questing Mrs. Morley to allow her daughter to come for a few
weeks to Palace House, to visit his daughter, who was, un-
happily, confined to her couch by a spinal affection, and who

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 23

had expressed a great desire to have the company of her old
school companion. It was written in a courtly style, -with many
flourishes, about the retirement in which her fair daughter would
have to live whilst with them, and many professions of grati-
tude for the favour he was entreating ; but there was an affecta-
tion of urbanity throughout which went far to justify Gertrude's
report of his being very proud.

The other letter was from the daughter, written in a natural
and affectionate strain, entreating Gertrude to come if possible,
as she was very ill, and wished to see her more than any one
else in the world. The fact was, that Miss Mellish having
fallen into a state of confirmed ill health, it had become desirable
to engage a companion for her, and she had, with infinite diffi-
culty, persuaded her father to invite Gertrude Morley, her great
school-friend, to see if she would not be eligible for the situa-
tion. Of course, nothing was said of this ulterior view in the
letter of introduction — but as everything in the world could be
explained if we only knew the reason of it, this is the explana-
tion of the letters which so much surprised Mrs. Morley and
Gertrude.

When Simon Morley was told of this invitation, he declared
that " Gertrude should not go, as it would only make her more
set up and conceited than she already was ; that being brought
up along with fine folks had made her good for nothing, and
that with his consent she should go no more amongst them."

But Mrs. Morley was too proud that her daughter should have
received such a friendly invitation from real gentlefolks not to
determine on having it accepted. She saw in it the realisation
of her dreams for Gertrude's advancement.

She coaxed, scolded, persuaded, and used all the matrimonial
sagacity she had gained by so many years' experience, and at

24 THE SORBOWS OP GENTILITY.

length carried her point. Gertrude departed in the best chaise
belonging to the " Metringham Arms," and the Miss Slocums
giggled and kissed their hands to her from the window of their
" Tea-room," whilst they " wondered what people could see in
Gertrude Morley to make such a fuss about her ! " Mr. Mellish
was to send his own carriage to meet her at the last stage, and
Mrs. Morley took care that every one in Dunnington should be
aware of that fact.

It may easily be conceived that this visit was not likely to
make Gertrude more content with her condition in life.
Although, owing to the invalid condition of Miss Mellish, there
was no gaiety going on at Palace House, yet the visitors who
from time to time came to the house were so different to her
associates at home, the tranquil elegance of the domestic en-
vironments contrasted so forcibly with the constant bustle and
stall-fed plenty of the home she had left, that her dissatisfaction
increased to positive disgust, and a determination was formed
to emancipate herself at all risks.

Amongst the visitors at Palace House was a young Irishman,
the son of an old friend of Mr. Mellish. He was a wild, hot-
brained, rollicking, good-looking young fellow, professing to be
a barrister, but trusting to his uncle, an Irish Baronet, who had
once done something for government, to obtain for him some
appointment which should be an easier mode of getting on in
the world than plodding at a profession. He was the son of an
admiral, who had been dead some years, leaving a widow and
two children slenderly provided with everything except " good
expectations."

This young man, Augustus Donnelly by name, had been taught
that he was divinely handsome, and might make his fortune by
marrying an heiress. It was the chief article of faith in which

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. "Zi)

he had been educated. Perhaps he would have fulfilled his
destiny if he had not met Gertrude Morley. But his star
brought him to Palace House during her visit. He saw her,
fell desperately in love with her, and at the end of a week pro-
posed to her. Gertrude was not the least in the world in love
with him ; he was too noisy and too full of spirits. Her taste
inclined towards sentimental officers and interesting young
clergymen. Augustus Donnelly, with his florid complexion,
laughing eyes, and boisterous spirits, did not touch her fancy in
the least, and it is probable that she would have rejected him
— if the post that morning, which had brought her a sudden
recal home to assist her mother in the preparations for an
election dinner, had not made Mr. Donnelly seem the better
alternative.

He knew that his prospects in life would not stand parental
inquiry, and he was far too deeply in love to think with compo-
sure of any opposition : he pleaded for an elopement. At first
Gertrude refused to listen to this, but in her secret heart she
feared that if he once saw her home and her relations he might
withdraw from the connexion : it seemed her only chance of
escape. She hesitated, and at last consented. The next day she
left Palace House, in spite of all entreaties to prolong her stay.
Augustus Donnelly having borrowed fifty pounds from a friend,
" to enable him to run away with an heiress," met her at the
end of the first stage, and they rushed off to matrimony and
Gretna Green together.

Poor Gertrude was not quite seventeen, which must be taken
as her excuse.

26 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

CHAPTER V.

Mrs. Morley was immersed in the preparations for an elec-
tion dinner, which, was to be held at the " Metringham Arms "
the next day, and when the post-boy, who had been sent with a
chaise to meet Gertrude at the last stage, returned without her,
Mrs. Morley was excessively provoked at her daughter's thought-
lessness in neglecting her summons at such an important time ;
but she was not thrown into the anxiety that might have been
expected. She fancied that Gertrude had been persuaded at
the last minute to remain for some party — and, after a few ex-
pressions of impatience at her daughter's inordinate love of
pleasure, she hurried away to the kitchen, where her presence
was imperatively called for.

The next morning the house was full of bustle ; as early as
nine o'clock the guests beg-ari to arrive, although the dinner
was not to take place until two, and Mrs. Morley was at her
wits' end what to do with them in the meantime ; the yard was
already almost filled with their different vehicles, and the quiet
street thronged with loungers. To add to the complication, it
was market-day, also. In the midst of the bustle, the lame
postman brought in a letter, which Mrs. Morley, busy as she
was, opened directly. It came from Gertrude, and told, in a
a few cold words, of her flight and intended marriage, " to get
away from home," as she expressed it.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 27

Poor Mrs. Morley fainted on reading the letter.

She was lifted to a sofa in the little bar, and her husband,
who was out in the field superintending the arrangement of the
dinner-table in the marquee, was summoned home by the in-
telligence that " Missis was took very bad indeed, and perhaps
dead by that time."

It was fortunate for Mrs. Morley that her condition excited
her husband's commiseration, and turned his wrath into another
channel, for his fits of passion were terrible ; when he had read
the letter, it needed the sight of his wife, in a swoon that looked
like death, to stop the current of curses and reproaches that
rose to his lips. He put a degree of restraint upon himself,
which, for such a violent tempered man, was wonderful. He
did not speak a single word, but lifted his wife from the sofa,
and carried her upstairs.

At length she opened her eyes.

" Oh, Simon, do you know all, and have you sent to stop her ?
I'll go and fetch her back myself, — you shall not keep me here.
A man she hardly knows, — a swindler, perhaps ! "

She attempted to rise, but fell back on the bed, from weak-
ness.

" This is a bad job, for sure, mistress ; you will have a sore
heart enough without any words of mine. Maybe it is a judg-
ment on the pride that bred her up above her station. But I
will never bring it up against you. Only never speak her name
to me, nor ask me to forgive her ; for, as I am a living man, I
never will ; and let her keep out of my road, or I might do
that I would be sorry for after."

Mrs. Morley was more frightened by her husband's un-
wonted calmness than she would have been by the most violent
explosion.

28

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

" Oh, Simon ! Simon ! " she screamed ; " what are you after ?
You are thinking- something- dreadful, — I see it by your face.
It is all my fault ; — I taught her to be proud, and I am the
cause of this day's shame. Beat me if you will, but forgive
her."

" She wants no forgiveness of mine ; — she cares nothing for
us ;- — she has cast off her parents. Let her drop ; never speak
about her again."

Poor Mrs. Morley's passion of grief was terrible to witness,
but it only hardened her husband's heart against the daughter,
who was the cause of it. But time was getting on, and the
dinner hour approached ; the confusion below was increasing ;
business must be attended to, whether his daughter had run
away or not ; — so leaving his wife to the care of Mrs. Slocum,
who had. been summoned in the emergency, he went about the
necessary business of the day to all appearance as though no-
thing had happened. It was remarked, however, that although
he drank hard, it seemed that day to take no effect upon him.

Next morning, Mrs. Morley was seen going about as usual.

The talking and gossiping from one end of Dunnington to
the other was great. There was no ill-will towards poor Mrs.
Morley in all the wise sentences that were pronounced against
her and her mode of bringing up her daughter ; but, in a small,
stagnant country town, gossip and scandal is the salt of life,
and it was too much to expect from human nature that such an
event as an elopement should take place without giving rise to
more commentaries than ever were written on a disputed text.

The next Saturday, however, amongst the announcements in
the " County Courier," appeared the following : " Married, on
the 3rd instant, at Gretna Green, and afterwards by the Rev.
James Price, Augustus Donnelly, Esq., son of the late Rear-

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITT. 29

Admiral Donnelly, and nephew of Sir Mortimer O'Grady, of
Kilshire Castle, in the County of Tipperary, to Gertrude, only
daughter of Mr. Simon Morley, of Dunnington, Hunts."

" La ! " said Miss Matilda Slocum, throwing down the paper,
" so Gertrude Morley is really married after all, and to the
nephew of a baronet ! What would her father and mother
have more, that they take on so about it ? "

" Depend upon it," said her eldest sister, who was diligently
stitching at some article for her own trousseau — " depend upon
it, that there is more in it than we know. It is not likely that
a gentleman should run away to marry a girl, when he might
have had her quietly for asking."

" He must have been very much in love," sighed Miss
Matilda. " I wonder whether she came down a rope ladder on
a moonlight night."

" Do not let your mind run upon such things, I desire —
they sound very unbecoming from a young woman," replied her
sister, sententiously ; who, being on the point of marriage her-
self, thought it due to her position to assume the airs of a
matron elect.

" I wonder how many horses they had to their carriage,"
said Miss Emma Slocum. " It must have been famous fun ! —
much better than we shall have at your wedding. I wish Ger-
trude's father would forgive her, and then she would come home,
and we should hear all about it. The first time I see Mr.
Morley I shall tell him that he ought."

"I beg, girls," said their mother, looking up from her knit-
ting, " that you will, all of you, hold your foolish tongues, and
never make any remark either to Mr. or Mrs. Morley. You
are young, giddy things, and cannot know the hurt it gives to
fathers and mothers when their children are unkind. Mrs.

30 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

Morley was over proud in bringing up her daughter above her
place ; but it has come home to her now, poor soul. I have
seen all along how it would be. Gertrude despised her home,
and looked down on her parents because they were just common,
homely people ; — I have seen it in her face this long while that
she would go through fire and water to get away, and a fine
hand she has made of it, I'll be bound. She ran away to be
married ; but I am much mistaken if, before six months are
over, she would not run further and faster to be unmarried
again. She has despised and thrown off her own father and
mother — and many a sore heart she will feel for it before she
dies."

Mrs. Slocum replaced the spectacles which she had taken off,
and resumed her knitting. She had felt very jealous of Mrs.
Morley, and she had been offended, at the high manners of her
daughter ; but now that her self-love had been appeased by the
event, all her natural kind-heartedness returned, and she sym-
pathized none the less warmly " that she had always foreseen
the end."

Gertrude's name was never mentioned at home. She had
written one letter, begging, in a light, airy style, to be forgiven,
and excusing herself on the ground that " she was not happy
at home."

Poor Mrs. Morley would fain have taken all the blame upon
herself, and tried to intercede with her husband ; but, after the
first attempt, she never ventured to speak on the subject again.
Simon Morley was not a man to trifle with.

Her mother sent Gertrude all the clothes she had left at
home, and she smuggled amongst them whatever she could
think of that was likely to be useful. Also, she wrote a letter
which was nearly illegible from the tears that dropped upon it,

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 31

telling her to write no more till lier father should be softened.
She enclosed a ten-pound note, which Simon Morley discovered,
and his wife had to endure the most terrible anger he had ever
shown since their marriage.

After this, things went on at the " Metringham Arms" appa-
rently much as usual. A handsome, buxom young woman was
engaged to assist Mrs. Morley. The prosperity of the house
increased, and Simon Morley had the reputation of being a rich
man, and was respected accordingly.

Bat poor Mrs. Morley never properly held up her head after-
wards. She never spoke of her daughter, but she mourned
after her. She still went about the house as usual, and kept it
going, from long habit ; but the spirit of old times was gone.

Gradually her health declined ; and when her son, who had
fallen in love with her good-looking assistant, formally desired
the consent of his parents to marry her, Mrs. Morley persuaded
her husband to give up the " Metringham Arms " to the young
couple, and to retire himself to a pretty little farm he had
recently purchased. To this he at length agreed ; and, after a
gay wedding at the parish church, the old Mr. and Mrs. Morley
resigned the house, and Mr. and Mrs. Simon Morley the younger
feigned in their stead.

This took place about two years after Gertrude's elopement.

32 THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER VI.

It may sound immoral, but it is no less a matter of fact, that
the idle and good-for-nothing who hang about in the world ex-
pecting " strokes of fortune," generally receive them. Those
who become burdens on their friends — who are always in want
of "just a few pounds," to enable them to go to America, to
India, or to Heaven, to take possession of a " most excellent
situation " — are always those who will be found to have had the
most remarkable instances of " good luck " in the course of
their life ; but then they have never been any the better for it.

Those who trust to prosaic, plodding industry and their own
exertions, meet with all manner of difficulties, but seldom or
never with a genuine stroke of " good luck." They shape their
lives according to the natural laws of cause and effect — they
reap what they have honestly sown. Whereas the "good
luck " and " strokes of fortune," when practically interpreted,
mean only receiving what has not been earned, and in most
cases not deserved, — and, like the seed in the parable, which
fell where there was stony ground, " having no root, dried up
and withered away." Augustus Donnelly, the husband of Ger-
trude, was always on the look out for " good luck."

He had always intended to make his great stroke of fortune
by marrying an heiress, but he had married Gertrude instead ;

THB SORROWS 01 GENTILITT. 83

bo thai avenue to prosperity was closed against him. But> to
do him justice, he was so desperately in love with his wife, that
he never gave a thought to what he had missed. When ha
found that her father was a rich innkeeper, it was certainly a
severe shock to his family pride, — for he had more than an
Irishman's ordinary contempt for trade and low connections.
He comforted himself by reflecting on the great convenience it
would be to have a rich father-in-law, who, of course, would be
only too glad to pay handsomely for the honour his family had
received in his name and self. He accordingly wrote, in a con-
descending style, to Simon Morley, inquiring what settlement
he was prepared to make on his daughter, talked largely of his
family and connexions, and begged him to say by return of
post when he should order his man of business to meet Mr.
Morley's solicitor, and concluded by expressing his intention of
very nhortly bringing his fair bride to plead in person for
restoration of her father's favour !

The effect of such a letter upon Simon Morley may be con-
ceived. He did not mention it to his wife. If he had, Mrs.
Morley would have been at no loss to explain the terrible
humonr he came home in that night, which exceeded all she had
ever known in the course of her matrimonial experience, and
which she attributed to a bad day's sport, and his favourite
mare going lame. If she had seen her husband that day, she
would have known how the poor mare came to be lame.

Mr. Augustus Donnelly did not show his wife the answer to
his letter ; neither did he tell her that he had ever written to
her father. If Gertrude had known this, she would have
known also why her husband spoke unkindly to her for the first
time, and why he was so extremely sarcastic in his reflections
upon " low money-getting people."
4

d4 THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY.

As the advantages of this marriage seemed rigidly limited to
bestowing a beautiful wife upon him, and nothing else, Mr.
Augustus once more opened his mouth to Fortune, in the hopo
that she would put something into it.

In the meantime, he did not see very clearly how they were
to get away from Scotland. The fifty pounds he had last bor.
rowed was all spent, and they were living on credit at a little inn
in a country town, until his uncle should do something for him,
or until something turned up. The inn was a naked, hungry,
looking red-brick house, — neither clean nor comfortable. The
town was small ; and as they knew no one, they were reduced
to the society of each other. Under these circumstances, the
charming' spirits of Mr. Augustus Donnelly flagged considerably;
and though he became much more grave and silent, his wife did
not find him any the more agreeable for the change ; and except
for the gentility of being a visitor, she was still living in an
inn, without any of the comforts she had enjoyed at home. But
Gertrude endured stoically, and hoped for better things.

At the end of a week, the landlady, waiter, and -servants
began to behave very coolly, not to say insolently, to their
guests in the three-cornered parlour, — and Mr. Augustus began
seriously to look about for ways and means.

A clatter in the stable-jrard drew him from the window,
whence he was watching two dogs fighting, and caused him to
hasten to the spot, whistling as he went — ■

" 0 dear, -what can the matter be ! "

He found the commotion was occasioned by the arrival of a
shooting party on their way from the moors. Amongst them
Augustus found Lord Southend, an old college friend, very rich
and very good-natured, who had helped Augustus more tha,n

THB SORROWS OF GENTILITT, 35

Once ; but ho lilced him, and though he foresaw an inroad on hia
purse, it did not prcvont his greeting him very cordially.

When he heard the story of his runaway marriage, and how
he and his bride were actually in pawn for their bill, he laughed,
declared it better sport than anything he had met with on the
moors, saw Gortrude, declared she was handsome enough to
excuse a man's doing a more desperate thing for her sake, —
lent him money " to get away from that cursed hole," — and
carried him off to dine afc a bachelor's party in the neighbour-
hood.

Gertrude was, of course, alone all day. Her mother's letter,
which had followed them from place to place, arrived about an
hour after her husband's departure. For the first time her un-
dutiful and unkind behaviour to her mother smote upon her
conscienca, and she wept bitterly. She would have written
words of repentance, but the conclusion of the letter, " do not
answer this — it would only aggravate your father and bring
anger upon me, which I could ill bear just now," drove her
away from this sorrowful consolation. She thought of writing
to Mrs. Slocum, and to send a message by that means to her
mother ; but though somewhat softened, Gertrude's pride was
still too strong to allow her to communicate to any of her old
acquaintance until she could give a more flourishing account of
herself. " Those Misses Slocum would only triumph over me :
I will wait until Augustus obtains the government situation he
is expecting ; and besides, after all, my mother would rather
not hear from me just yet."

The thought of the Misses Slocum hardened her flagging
resolution, and all her hatred to Dunnington returned with re-
aewed strength.

Mr. Augustus Donnelly did not return from his dinner-party
4r-9

86 THE SOSROWS 07 GEHTILITT.

until earlj the next morning, and then it was in tha condition
that " choice spirits " generally are when they have been enjoy-
ing themselves for many hours in each other's sooiety. He,
however, told Gertrude that Lord Southend bad offered to give
them both a place in his carriage — that he intended to drop
Gertrude with hiu mother and sister, and to go on himself to
London, to look after the situation his uncla said had as good
as been promised for him.

Gertrude was too thankful to get away, to realise the part
allotted to her in this scheme. Her husband had been lucky at
cards — so that, with the loan from his friend, he was pretty
well in cash, even after defraying their bill ; and he bid Ger-
trude " keep the money her mother had sent, to make a figure
before his relations."

TUE SOBBOIVS OS GENTILITY. 37

CHAPTER VII.

TnEY departed that day, and Gertrude had the satisfaction of
travelling in company with a real lord, and in a barouche like
those which used to change horses at the " Metringham Arms;"
but she did not find herself very happy— the thought of the
mother-in-law and sister-in-law she was about to encounter
weighed on her spirits, and she wondered how they would be
pleased at having her "dropped" go unceremoniously amongst
them.

They stopped ono night on the road (Lord Southend of course
paying all the expenses), and about the middle of the next day
arrived at the little clean old-fashioned town, unpolluted by
trade or manufactures, where it had seemed good to the Dowager
Mrs. Donnelly and her daughter to take up their abode.

The earl himself alighted at the chief hotel, and engaged
Augustus to dine with him after he had paid his respects suffi-
ciently to bis people at home. He shook hands with Gertrude,
and told her that he hoped she would soon come to London and
shine as became her beauty.

The carriage stopped a few moments afterwards before a
large old-fashioned stone house, full of dismal-looking windows,
in a street where the grass grew up luxuriantly among»t the

38 THE SORROWS OP GEXTILITY.

stones. A double flight of stone steps led up to the door, gar-
nished with iron studs and aa immense brass knocker, which
seemed capable of beating it down, as it sounded a thundering1
accompaniment to the sepulchral peal of the bell, which rever-
berated through the house at the summons of the aristocratic
supercilious footman.

" You surely are not going to leave me here, Augustus?"
said Gertrude, frightened at the noise they made, and sick with
anticipation of the introduction that awaited her.

" Do not be childish, Gertrude, I desire," replied her husband ;
" you are only going to see my mother."

The door was by this time opened by a small footboy in some-
what faded livery and clumsy shoes. Augustus sprang out of
the carriage and assisted the trembling Gertrude.

" Tell your mistress that her son and his lady are here, and
then see to getting the luggage. You had best send for some
one to help you."

"Yes, sir. If you please, sir, what name shall I say, sir?
Missis did s-ay she was not at home, sir."

" Do as I bid you, and be off with you," replied Mr. Augustus,
imperiously.

K Please to coma this way, sir," said the boy, submissively,
leading the way across a large hall, paved in black and white,
and ushering them into the drawing-room — a lofty room with
walla painted lead colour, and windows hung with drab moreen
curtains trimmed with borders of black cotton velvet ; a gilt
mirror over the chimney-piece was surmounted by a black eagle,
holding a festoon of glass drops from his beak ; girandoles, fes-
tooned in a similar manner, stood upon the mantel-shelf; the
hearth-rug was turned back, and the small hard-stuffed settea
was thriftily covered with a duster, whilst an array of

THE SOKKOWS OF GENTILITY. 39

black cane chairs, with gilt knobs, stood in order against the
walls.

" This room does not look as if it saw much company ! " said
Mr. Augustus, looking round; and it isn't myself that would
trouble it if I staid hero. What is it you are crying for at all? "
said he, turning to his wife, "just when you ought to look like
the pretty creature you are, to do me credit."

Farther exhortation was cut short by the entrance of the
Dowager Mrs. Donnelly herself. Mr. Augustus embraced his
mother very dutifully, and before she had time for more than a
look of astonishment, took the hand of poor Gertrude, who was
ready to sink into the ground, and said, " This is the new
daughter I have brought to surprise you. She will keep up the
character of the Donnellys for having none but handsome
women in the family. She feels a little bashful just now, at
coming amongst strangers."

Mrs. Donnelly turned with the air of a Roman matron to-
wards Gertrude, and deposited a dignified kiss upon her cheek,
saying —

" I trust you will have no cause to regret the day you entered
our family; but although elopements have received the sanction
of numerous examples in high society, yet I must confess it is
not the mode in which I would have desired my son to receive
his wife."

" There now, that's enough," said Mr. Augustus, impatiently.
" Can you not tell her that yon are glad to see her, and no more
about it. It might be the first runaway match in the family,
but didn't Sir Tiberius O'Connor run away with our great aunt,
Judith (and she on the eve of marrying another), and have I
not heard you call her the mirror of the family ? What is tho
use of being so hard on your own lawful daughter-in-law."

40 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

" I owe it to Our sex, Augustus, to protest against whatever
bears the shadow of impropriety. A young woman cannot keep
her reputation too spotless ; but having1 said thus much, I trust
that we shall none of u$ have reason to regret the step that she
hag taken."

If Gertrude had not been brought to her in an earl's travel-
ling carriage, Mrs. Donelly's reception of her daughter-in-law
would have been much more severe ; but as Gertrude was in
the odour of good company, Mrs. Donnelly permitted her rigid
propriety to relax, and invited them into the breakfast-room,
where there was a fire.

This was not one of her days for being visible to callers.
The sound of the carriage had disturbed her in the midst of
some very homely employments, and she had hastily retired to
improve her somewhat negligS toilet. A gown of dashed black
satin, which had once been a gala dress, as proved by the traces
of bugles and embroidery which lingered upon it, had been
smartened up by the addition of a large brooch, like a tomb-
stone, bearing the miniature of the deceased admiral in the full
splendour of his naval uniform ; a gauze cap, that might have
been cleaner, but which could not have been finer, covered the
locks of her auburn toupee, and her thick white stockings were
cased in strong stuff shoes. She was a portly, stately dame of
fifty. At the first glance, she looked to be a kind, motherly
woman ; but there was a certain hard self-complacency about
her face that afforded little hope of any spontaneous warmth ;
a stereotyped sweetness in her smile, and a hard grey eye that
never joined in it at all, She was extremely affable, for she had
tha fixed idea that being of a distinguished family she must
behave accordingly. Her fortune was narrow, but her manners
were ample, to compensate for it.

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 41

Gertrude, who had been often told by her husband that his
mother was the most distinguished ornament of the Court at
Dublin, and the " life and soul of every party at the Castle,"
was greatly impressed by this elaborate suavity, and followed
her mother-in-law, as she glided from the drawing-room, with
the implicit reverence due to the great lady she believed her
to be.

42 the sorrows or ceshlitt.

CHAPTER VIII.

The room to which they were now introduced was much
smaller than the one they had quitted. The furniture was old,
and the carpet wanted mending ; but there was a small dusty
fire, and the 'evidences of being inhabited, so that its appearance
was not so desolate.

By the time that Gertrude had taken off her bonnet, Miss
Sophia Donnelly, who had been out paying a round of calls,
returned. She was a tall, large-featured young woman, with
her hair (which was more red than auburn) arranged in large
curls on each side of her face. She was very showily attired,
and her manners and bearing were intended to represent a
highly-bred, fashionable lady — indeed, she had no doubt that
they did — but Gertrude thought she was hard and insolent,
and not to be compared to her mother.

Miss Sophia was very glad to see her brother, and she pre-
sented her cheek to Gertrude with an air of supercilious cold-
ness which was quite sincere and natural.

After these greetings had subsided, Mrs. Donnelly beckoned
her daughter out of the room to a domestic conference.

Mr. Augustus Donnelly had taken his mother by surprise'
and surprises are always hazardous, and seldom pleasant — ihey
never fall at the right time.

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 43

It was Wednesday, when Mrs. Donnelly always gave what she
called a " scrap dinner " to her household. Indeed, though lira.
Donnelly talked a great deal about " Irish hospitality," there
were more " banian-days " than festivals in her calendar — as all
the servants who had ever lived with her could testify.

On this especial day, the " scraps " were unusually scanty.
A very small portion of potato-bash, and the crusts of the week
boiled into what Mr3. Donnelly termed " a most nutritions bread
pudding1," was the dinner she had decreed for herself and her
household — consisting" of her daughter, two maid-servants, and
the footboy before-mentioned. The addition of two hungry
persons would increase the scarcely to a famine.

" My dear child," began Mrs. Donnelly, " was there ever any-
thing so unlucky ? Nothing in the house ! What is to be
done?"

".It is just like Augustus!" said Miss Sophia. "He was
always thoughtless ! Who was his wife — do you know ? I will
get out the best plate, at any rate, and then the dinner itself
will be of little consequence, — that is, if she has been accus-
tomed to good society."

" Well, but we must have something to eat," rejoined the
macron.

" They may make out with anything in the kitchen," replied
Miss Sophia. " Porridge and treacle, if there is nothing else.
And as for ourselves, with what there is, and a few tarts from
the pastrycook's, we shall do very well."

" But there will not be enough for us, my love," replied her
mother, shaking her head.

" Then let the cook prepare a few eggs, after that receipt
Lady Killaloo gave you, — only she need not use above half the
quantity of butter. I do not see what more is required. I will

44 TEE SOHBOWS OP GEKTILITT.

lay tlie cloth myself, and you will see that it will look quit a
stylish little dinner. Nothing can bo so vulgar as a heavy
over-loaded table."

" Xou are such a dear contriving creature,'' said her mother,
kissing" her. " What a treasure you will be to somebody ! "

If Gertrude had desired style, she certainly ought to have
been satisfied with her present position. The dinner was served
in due time, Lady Killaloo's eggs at the top, and the potato-
hash at the bottom of the table, but each served up in a plated
dish ; and the spoons, forks, and the silver waiter, on which
everything was handed, were emblazoned with the Donnelly
crest wherever it could bo placed. The footboy had been made
to put on his best coat, and the crest was also on all his battens.
Nothing could be more hospitable than the manner in which
Mrs. Donnelly presided over the table; and as, luckily, Ger-
trude was too much agitated by her novel position to have any
appetite, and her husband having the prospect of a dinner with
Lord Southend was too prudent to spoil it by partaking too
heartily of his mother's family fare, there was a small remainder
sent away to the kitchen.

After a tumbler of punch, made of genuine " potheen "
(which was the only article of which Mrs. Donnelly was really
liberal), Mr. Augustus declared he was due at the " Elephant,"
where Southend was waiting dinner for him, — adding, in an
olf-hand manner :

" I shall take a run up to town with him, and leave Gertrude
here to keep you company, till I have looked about me, and
found something to settle down upon. Southend Bays there is
a place in the Treasury which would be just the thing for me,
and that it is in his father's gift."

At this announcement, Gertrude's eyes filled with tears ghe

THE SOEEOWS OF GEKTILIIY. £5

could not restrain. Mrs. Donnelly's brow clouded oyer, though
she attempted to look amiable ; she thought of the increase to
her household expenditure, and the burden to her resources
which her daughter-in-law seemed likely to prove. Miss
Sophia, who already felt the anti-pathetic affinity of a sister-in-
law, was indignant at the imposition, and thought that she had
much better pay a visit to her own relations.

" Why how cast down you all seem at my proposal ! " said
Augustus. " "What can any of you suggest better I would like
to know ? "

Mrs. Donnelly cleared her throat, and for a moment seemed
somewhat embarrassed, but speedily recovering her usual bland
complacency, she said, —

" There are several things to be considered, my dear Augustus,
which you seem to forget. I am charmed with our dear Ger-
trude, and am willing to consider her as a daughter of my own.
If we were rich she should be welcome as the flowers in May ;
but my income is not large, and every farthing I can save goes
to make a portion for your sister. Another inmate, however
charming, will be a great additional expense. For a few days
I will rejoice to hare her ; but if she is to remain longer "

" Oh, if it is the bite and the sup you grudge to the wife of
your only son, it is no obligation she shall lie under, or mo
either," interrupted Augustus, furiously. "Her own people
have turned their backs on her, for having fancied me without
their leave, and now you are haggling and screwing to make
a profit out of her ! I am ashamed for the credit of the
family."

" I do not see what reason the friends of any young person
have to cast her off for entering into our family," interposed
his sister, haughtily. " They must be people utterly ignorant

46 TUB SORROWS 0? G5KTILITT.

of tha value of good connexions. Money may ba picked up
by the road-side, but an old family, like ours, is getting rarer
every day ; and any young woman in the land might think her-
self honoured by an alliance -with us."

" Faith then, Sophy clear, I wish you would take a walk and
pick up a little of that same money you speak of by the road-
side I ha-re not found the* lane yet that is pared with gold ;
and 1 am doubting it is a long way till I get to the turning.
Gertrude's father there is rolling in wealth, but not a penny or
a halfpenny of it will he giva us ; and till I get the little place
I have in prospect, it is not much of that same money you so
despise I shall have to bless myself with. When I have it,
what conies for me come3 for you ; and neither I nor Gertrude
will count the days you stop with us, nor talk of payment
either ; so you will not lose what you spend on us. Gertrude
must stay here— I cannot take her with me."

Gertrude sat by, listening with burning cheeks, ready to sink
into the earth whilst this discours; went on. But there was no
resource — shs had brought it on herself. At last she said, in a
faltering voice, scarcely audible,—

" I am not without money altogether. Perhaps this will pay
for me until my husband has a home to receive me," and sho
laid on tho table the ten-pound note which her mother had
sent.

Everybody felt awkward at this straightforward proceeding.
Mrs. Donnelly became entangled by a long explanatory sen-
tence, owing to the difficulty of saying what should mean at
once both Yes and No.

Miss Donnelly looked contemptuously at her, as a person
utterly destitute of manner and tact.

Mr. Augustus Donnelly hai the grace to feel ashamed of him-

THE SORROWS 0? QBHTILIXT, 47

self for half a second ; but on looking afc his watch, he saw that
hi3 tim9 was up, and that " it was impossible to keep Southend
waiting." Ha rose hastily, kissed Gertrude, bid her take care
of herself, and that he would soon write for her to join him ;
bado a somewhat cold adieu to his mother and sister, and de-
parted— leaving orders that his portmanteau should be packed
and sent after him to the "Elephant" in the course of a couple
of hours.

Heavily and sadly passed the evening to poor Gertrude,
Mrs. Donnelly entertained her with histories of bygone festivi-
ties at Dublin Castle in which she had played a distinguished
part, and gave her an account of all the stylish families with
whom she and her daughter were on visiting term's.

Miss Donnelly brought out a little book of vellum, bound in
crimson velvet, -wherein she had occupied her leisure hours in
emblazoning the arms of the Donnelly family, from the earliest
tradition to the present time, with the quarterings of their dif-
ferent intermarriages. This book was the solace of her leisure
hours. She now brought it, and inquired of Gertrude what
was her father's crest, and what arms he bore, that she might
enter them into the " family-book."

" The Metringham Arms," said Gertrude, confusedly.

" Ah ! then you are a branch of the Metringham family ? "
said the lady, with a smile of complacency. " I thought the
family name had been Cressy ? you are connected through a
female branch perhaps ? "

" My father is* a tenant of Lord Metringham's, and our house
is called the ' Metringham Arms,' " said Gertrude, desperately.

Mother and daughter exchanged looks of dismay. Miss
Sophia Donnelly closed the book, saying, coldly, " Of course,
then, you have no heraldic bearings at all {"'

48 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

There ensued an awkward pause. At length. Mrs. Donnelly
inquired whether Gertrude would not like to retire to rest, after
the fatigues of the day ?

" I will show you the chamber which it to be your own ; "
and lighting a small end of candle stuck into a plated candle-
stick, she conducted Gertrude to a largo cold-looking bedroom,
with a scrap of carpet round a large hearse-like bedstead. An
old-fashioned worm-eaten toilet-glass, a relict of the prosperity
of the Donnellys, stood in the bow window, and faded chalk
drawings of some ancient children of the Donnelly race adorned
the walls. Comfort was left unattempted.

Trusting that she would sleep well, Mrs. Donnelly kissed her
with considerable stateliness of manner, and withdrew, leaving
Gertrude to meditate on the advantages of the " unexception-
able connexion " she had formed,

"Good heavens! that Augustus, who might have married
anybody, should have formed such a mesalliance!" exclaimed
Miss Sophia, when alone with her mother.

tub sor.KO'.vs of g^xtilitt. 49

CHAPTER IX.

When Gertrude awoke the next morning she had a vague
feeling of unhappiness ; the recollection of the events of the
preceding day gradually became more distinct. She thought
that Augustus had not been kind to leave her a stranger
amongst his own people, and, in a manner, dependent upon
them ; and when she recollected how much both his mother and
sister looked down upon all " who did not belong to a good
family," the thought of her own deficiencies in that respect
made her afraid of meeting them again. It weighed upon her
like a crime, that she was " the daughter of an innkeeper ; "
and though she would thankfully have changed her father into
a Marquis, the fact remained the same. It was an error of
Destiny, quite beyond her power to remedy.

Under such a weight of real unhappiness and fancied igno-
miny, the poor girl was quite crushed. She, however, met her
Borrows in the established feminine way, and wept bitterly ; an
inarticulate protest against them which eased her mind con-
siderably, and when she could cry no longer 6he got up and
dressed herself.

When she descended to the breakfast-parlour no one was
there. The aspect of the breakfast-table was very different to
what she had been accustomed to at home. The flimsy table-
5

50 TEE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

cloth, in want both of darning and washing, — the tarnished
spoons and tea-pot (for Mrs. Donnelly seldom allowed her plate
to be cleaned, for fear of wearing it), — and the half-cut loaf,
stale and dry, — looked anything but an inviting breakfast-table
The fire that struggled in the grate was made chiefly of dusty,
half-burned cinders, which Gertrude was trying to coax into a
blaze when her august mother-in-law entered. If there was
one thing that Mrs. Donnelly disliked more than another, it was
to see any one meddle with her fires ; Gertrude had, unwittingly,
added another sin to the previous list of her offences. Mrs.
Donnelly greeted her with stately politeness, and hoped she had
rested well. Miss Sophia coldly wished her good morning, and
they all sat down to breakfast.

The morning costume of the ladies consisted of very dingy
old silk dresses, — for they economised greatly upon their wash-
ing bilb, and the dresses that had become too old and too
shabby to meet the eyes of men and angels were condemned to
be worn " the first thing in the morning," by way of gettino-
the wear out of them to the uttermost farthing. Gertrude in
her pretty, fresh-looking, chintz morning-wrapper, and her un-
deniable gracefulness and beauty, was as great a contrast to
them as possible. Both the ladies were constrained to own to
themselves that " she looked very stylish certainly," and that no
one could have guessed that she had been a barmaid in her
father's inn. But they liked her none the better for that : it did
not wash out the original sin of her low birth. If she had
been the ugliest and poorest of patrician daughters, they would
have knelt down and worshipped her. The same feelin^ was at
work in Gertrude : it hindered her from feeling any comfort in
her own advantages, and equally prevented her appreciating the
dirt and discomfort which surrounded her stylish connexions.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 51

The two ladies had conversed till deep in the night a3 to the
best mode of meeting1 the terrible blow which this marriage had
given to the Donnelly family; whether Gertrude was to be
degraded to the condition of a disgraced relative, and treated
as a misfortune, or whether it would be more " Creditable to the
family" to make the best of the match which their "dear
chivalrous Augustus had been led into."

" So generous of him to marry her, and so uncalled for,"
said Miss Sophia, indignantly ; " for surely people in that class
could never have expected it from a man in the position of
Augustus I "

" No, my dear," said her mother, majestically; "you allow
your feelings to carry you too far. If this poor young creature
confided herself to his honour, he would have been no true Don-
nelly if he had deceived her. I feel the misfortune of this con-
nexion as much as you do, but I would not have owned him for
my son if he had acted dishonourably."

" I hope she will not fancy that she has come into the family
as an equal," said Miss Sophia.

" That she never can," rejoined Mrs. Donnelly, with dignity ;
" but as Christians, and as reasonable beings, we must make the
best of this unfortunate occurrence."

So it was decided, that no matter how she had entered, Ger-
trude being now, at all events, a member of the Donnelly
family, must be endowed to the world with Donnelly virtues,
and boasted of accordingly. But, as poor Gertrude found, this
did not include either comfort or consideration for her in
private.

This day being the day on which, in every week, Mr3. Don-
nelly was visible to callers, a fire was ordered to be lighted in
the drawing-room j and whilst Miss Sophia proceeded to ar-

5—8

53 THE SOKKOWS OF GENTILITY.

ranga the room for company, Mrs. Donnelly offered to take
Gertrude over the house.

" I make a point, my dear, of looking minutely into my
domestic matters, and, as you have had no experience, you may
learn something1 from seeing- the arrangements of an old house-
keeper lika myself. Our housekeeping is, as I may gay, tradi-
tional ; for the Donnellys hare been a family sines the days of
the old kings of Ireland, and in a parchment which is still in
our possession, there is recorded the hospitality which one of
our ancestors offered to the last King of Ulster. Although
time and change hare somewhat impoverished us, we can yet
giro a true Irish welcome to our friends ; ' hospitality and no
formality' is, as it erer ha3 been, our boast."

Mrs. Donnelly wa3 unconsciously mollified by the respectful
reverence with which Gertrude listened to all the claims she
put forth on behalf of her family, and it was not without a cer-
tain graciousness that she conducted Gertrude over the large,
dreary, haunted- looking mansion, which serred as a oasket for
the dignity of Mrs. Donnelly.

Some of the rooms were unfurnished, and those in use were
fitted up much in the style of the room appropriated to Ger-
trude. An air of dinginess pervaded everything, but every
article of furniture was placed in an attitude of pretension so as
to show its good qualities to the best advantage, and there was
not a chair, or table, or chest, upon which Mrs. Donnelly did
not expatiate with the eloquence of an auctioneer. A heaTy,
carved, black oak cabinet was thu object of her peculiar ad-
miration ; first, it was made af " bog oak," found on the Don-
nelly estate, before it was confiscated ; in the next place, it bore
the date of 1572, and Mrs. Donnelly showed Gertrude how the
family arms were carved upon it. There was not a cracked

THE S0EE0W3 OF GENTILITT. 53

china cup, or old japan box, or rickety chest of drawers, which
was not displayed to Gertrudo's eyes as something especially
rare and precious, with a family legend attached to it, until she
almost believed that Mrs. Donnelly must, somehow, belong to
the royal family.

When they had gone through all the rooms, Mrs. Donnelly
said, with great affability, " And now, my dear, we will proceed
to the kitchen ; there is nothing derogatory in being a vigilant
housekeeper. I make a point of looking into every item of my
domestic expenditure. I have known ladies of the highest birth
who did the same ; my old friend Lady Sarah Lazenby, now
Countess of Rosherville, in the county of Tipperary, always goes
round Castle Rosherville every day, and not a fire is ever
lighted, or a poiato boiled, without her knowledge."

" Is she not very stingy ? " asked Gertrude.

" That which is a virtue, and highly becoming in persons
who have a position in the world, often looks quite otherwise
in those of inferior station," replied Mrs. Donnelly, severely ;
" and allow me to add, that a young person in your rank of life
ought not, oven in thought, to question what is done by one so
much above you."

Gertrude had a distinct recollection of this Countess of
Rosherville, who had stopped at the " Metringham Arms "
some months previously, with a carriage full of children and
nurses whom she had installed in the best parlour, and declin-
ing dinner, luncheon, or any meal called by a name, sent out a
bottle of weak broth which had been brought in the pocket of
the carriage to be warmed for their refreshment; and, like the
old woman " who lived in a shoe," gave it to them without any
bread.

One of Poor Richard's proverbs says that " A fat kitchen

51- 'j'iie sokeonvs of gextx'.ty:

mates a loan will." Mrs. Donnelly's kitchen -would Lave no
such result to answer for ; it was bare, and lean, and pinched,
to the last degree.

Mrs. Donnelly peered into the cupboards and paus vitli the
dignity of a priestess ; she went to the coal-cellar and portioned
out the coals for the day's consumption, and then counted the
potatoes for dinner.

Gertrude, accustomed to liberal housekeeping, was astonished
to see everything put under lock and key, even to the crusts of
bread left from the morning's breakfast.

" It is in this department, my dear Gertrude, that economy
may be best shown. A lady who is judicious in the manage-
ment of her kitchen may make fifty pounds go as far as a
hundred would go in the hands of others. Always have some-
thing to show for your money."

Gertrude observed that the sides of the kitchen-floor were
curiously speckled with pipe-clay to imitate marble.

" Ah ! " said Mrs. Donnelly, complacently, " that is an idea of
my own. I tell the girl when she has done her work that she
may amuse herself by marbling the floor ; it has a pretty effect,
and is a nice little employment for her."

" Does she like to do it ? " asked Gertrude, simply. She was
again unlucky in her question.

" Persons in our class never ask servants what they like,"
replied her mother-in-law, loftily, and turned away to give
orders for dinner,

THE 60K30",VS OF G^XTILITY. 55

CHAPTER X.

The domestic affairs being despatched, Mrs. Donnelly pro-
ceeded to her room to dress for receiving company, and in due
time reappeared, all bland and smiling, in a handsome flowered-
silk gown and a stately turban, with the brooch which con-
tained the likeness of the departed admiral, in fall uniform,
reposing upon her matronly bosom; while her bony fingers
were adorned with sundry large ancestral-looking rings of some
value.

Miss Sophia had in the meanwhile arranged the room to its
best advantage, and it certainly looked much more comfortable
than on the previous day. The sofa and chairs were uncovered ;
sundry cushions covered with old brocade were displayed. A
filagree card-box and some old-fashioned silver to}"S were laid
out where they could best be seen; a screen, worked in co-
loured silks by Miss Sophia herself, had been placed in an
advantageous perspective ; the book of heraldry was of course
in full sight, and Miss Sophia, in a pea-green lustre, sat before
a work-box in the form of a cottage, working the Donnelly
crest (a wild-cat rampant with long whiskers proper), in its
lawful colours, on a kettle-holder. Gertrude seated herself, and
be°-an to embroider a muslin flounce with an elaborate pattern
of sprigs and eylet-holes.

56 THE SORROWS OV GENTILITY.

" Mamma," said Miss Sophia, " I thought that Mrs. Augustas
had gone up to dres3 -when you went. We shall hare a host of
callers thi3 morning; I dare say Lady Elrington will be in
town to-day, and she never conies without paying us a visit."

Gertrude looked up and coloured.

" It cannot be expected, my dear," said the old lady, " that
you should know the points of dress and etiquette which are re-
quired by the society in which we move. I ought to have told
you what to do ; but there is yet tima for you to put on any
little simple dress, not quite so matins as the one you wear.

Gertrude felt extremely annoyed at the tone of both the
ladies ; but she rose without speaking to do her mother-in-law's
bidding. As she left the room she heard Miss Sophia say —

rt I hope she will not make herself look like a bar-maid."

When Gertrude returned shs found several visitors seated in
the drawing-room, to whom the old lady formally presented her,
saying, with much dignity, " My daughter-in-law, Mr3. Augustus
Donnelly."

Fresh visitors followed in quick succssiion — for the arrival
of the "bride" the previous day had already been reported all
over th« town, and everybody cams to sea what she was like ;
the moat contradictory reports were afloat concerning the young
lady whom Mr. Augustus Donnelly had married. The visitors
chiefly consisted of the wives and daughters of professional men,
for Springfield being an assize town, lawyers and physicians
made the staple of the genteel portion of the population. There
were a few widows of good family with narrow jointures, and
one or two members of families of some consideration in the
neighbourhood, who came with great Sclat in their carriages.
Altogether the Donnellys had not held such a brilliant levee for
many months, The conversation turned upon general news,

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 57

scandal, and the concerns of their neighbours generally. Ger-
trude was struck with the similarity of all she heard with the
daily occurrences of Dunnington, but then she had the comfort
of knowing that she was admitted to sit in a highly select
society, and that everybody she saw would certainly have felt
insulted had they known they were in company with an inn-
keeper's daughter.

Mrs. Donnelly was detailing, with great emphasis, the shame-
ful ingratitude of Mrs. Pelly's cook, who had refused to delay
her marriage with the butcher until Christmas to oblige her
mistress — when she was interrupted by the announcement of
Lady Elrington — ths grand person in the neighbourhood !

A thin cross-looking old lady, dressed in a style of many
years back, came tottering into the room on an ebony crutch
stick. Mrs. Donnelly and her daughter received here with
great cmpressement, and she was placed in an easy chair beside
the fire. Gertrude was not presented to her, but the quick rest-
less eye of the old lady soon discovered her.

"Who is thatP" sha asked, tapping her snuff-box — "a
visitor ? "

" That ia my daughter-in-law ; the young person with whom
my poor dear enthusiastic Augustus ran away. They came
from the north yesterday with Lord Southend. Augustus had
business in London, and we prevailed upon him to leave his
young wife with us for a little time. I had great difficulty, I
assure you, for it is a most romantiG attachment on both
sides."

" That is all as it should be," said the old lady. " She is a
pretty young creature, and has begun her cares early. Of what
family is she ? "

Mrs. Donnelly felt this to be a most impertinent question, but

58 THE SOEROWS OF GENTILITY.

Lady Elrington was a privileged person, and besides Mrs. Don-
nelly's chief objection was, that she could not answer it with
satisfaction. Had Gertrude been a member of a noble family
she would have volunteered the information ; as it was, she
replied with an air of reserve : " My son met with Miss Morley
at Palace House, where she was on a visit to Miss Mellish.
Sha comes, I believe, from one of the midland counties ; she is
in great disgrace with her own family, and I have not liked to
distress her with enquiries." Lady Ellington did not trouble
herself to listen to Mr3. Donnolly, but beckoning Gertrude to
coma and eit beside her, she began a skilful cross-examina-
tion.

Mn. Donnelly and Mis3 Sophia were in a fever of anxiety
lest the fatal fact of the " Metringham Arms " should be elicited,
for Lady Elrington was an inveterate gossip, and seldom failed
to ferret out anything she wished to ascertain about her neigh-
bours. Poor Gertrude was sadly embarrassed ; she felt more
acutely than ever the disgrace of coming out of an inn, her
morbid susceptibility on that point having become exaggerated
by the twenty-four hours she had passed under her mother-in-
law's roof. She had not the hardihood necessary to deny, nor
the moral courage to assert the fact ; she felt inclined to cry,
and it would no doubt have ended in that, if Mrs. Donnelly had
not come to her rescue with a piece of news which she had
boldly improvised for the occasion.

" Have you hearl that young Frederick Hindmarsh is going
to marry old Mrs. Ulverstone ? He declares as a reason that
he is tired of going to law with her, and will try if going to
church will answer any better ; but they are keeping it a great
secret."

"Gopdness gracious! you do Mot mean to tell me that for a

TEE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 59

foot?" said the old lady, relinquishing Gertrude and turning
briskly round to Mrs. Donnelly.

" Indeed I do," replied the unabashed matron. " My cook
had it from the Hindmarsh's coachman, and it is my opinion
that many would do a more desperate thing to keep a fine slice
of an estate in the family."

" Well ! what will the world come to ? It is a disgrace to
society ! Why, she is old enough to be his great-grandmother ! "

There was, as everybody well knew, a deadly feud between
Lady Elrington and Mrs. Ulverstone. Mrs. Donnelly had effec-
tually diverted her attention from Gertrude. After a few more
exclamations, Lady Elrington luckily heard one of her horses
cou«h. — a sound to which she was nervously alive. She rose
briskly to her feet, saying, " Why did you not tell me all this
before ? I must go now, for ' Bob ' is coughing ; but mind you
collect all the information you can about this match, and tell
me everything;" and with hasty adieus she departed, to the
great relief of all the three ladies.

This was the last of their visitors, and the performance being
now concluded, everthing about the house subsided to its ordi-
nary condition. The boy retired into his old livery — Mrs.
Donnelly mounted the black dress which she was in the process
of " wearing out " — Miss Sophia carefully covered up the draw-
inj-room furniture, removing the email objects which adorned
it, and then exchanged her pea-green lustre for the dyed silk
fia usually wore in the house of an afternoon. They met again
in the little breakfast-room to dine, as well as they could, on
Mrs. Donnelly's household fare.

When the cloth was removed, and the door shut upon the
footboy, Mrs. Donnelly, who was very particular " not to speak
Of anything before the servants" (which, however, did not

60 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

hinder them from knowing everything that passed in the par-
lour), turned to Gertrude, with an air that would have become
the mother of the Gracchi, and said —

" I do not doubt, my dear, but that you suffered a3 much aa
ourselves during your interview this morning with Lady El-
rington. Her curiosity was not unnatural, and I, as the mother
of your husband, wish to be informed more fully about the con-
nexion my son so hastily formed. I must know all, in order to
decide what to tell our friends, when they inquire to whom
Augr.3fcu3 Donnelly is married."

"I don't think we hare many relations," said Gertrude, "and
I hare heard my mother say that it was a great comfort when
married people had no relations to interfere with them, and that
she and my father had lived happily for that very reason. I
believe my grandfather was farm-servant to Squire Clifden for
many years, who set him up in a little road-side inn, and let
him some land, and he made a great deal of money for one in
his situation. My father has always boasted that he has been
lucky in the world — my mother's father was a farmer."

" Many of our old English families have fallen into the rank
of yeomen," observed Miss Sophia, " from becoming impo-
verished by the Cru3adea and the Civil Wars — some of those
yeoman families can show a clear genealogy for more than five
hundred year3."

'• I wish we could," said Gertrude, humbly ; but I never heard
that wa belonged to anybody."

" Have you no relations whom we might own without a
blush?" rejoined Miss Sophia.

" My father and my mother are the best off in the world of
all their relations. There was an aunt of my mother's, who
used to take in sewing — she had been a housemaid in some gen.

TIIE SORROWS 0? GENTILITY. Gl

tlernan's family ; and my father had an only brother, who went
to sea, where he was lost."

"It is altogether a most disastrous connexion," said Miss
Sophia, in a tone of despair. " I do not see what we can do
better than be extremely grieved about it, and treat it as the
misfortune which it really is. Augustus ought to have remem-
bered what was due to his family — it will be the ruin of all his
prospects in life ; and it is quite enough to exclude us from good
society. We cannot insult our friends by forcing them to
accept Gertrude ; and I think we must decline visiting while
she remains with us."

" My daughter is a fanatic about gentle blood," said Mrs.
Donnelly. " She sees the evil of this connexion in an exagger-
ated light. I confess that, with me, good character is the first
requisite ; and if you prove well conducted and well disposed, I
trust I have too much the feelings of a Christian and a p-entls-
woman to visit upon your head the misfortune of your lowly
birth. For our own sakes we shall speak of you as little as
possible ; and if you go into society with us, remember that you
have no claims of your own to such a distinction, and never for-
get that you have beon raised from your proper station by your
husband's generosity. It is as well, perhaps, that your own
family have cast you off; for, of course, there could be no asso-
ciation between us and them."

" Then you intend to allow her to visit with us ? " said Miss
Sophia, discontentedly.

" Yes, my love. She is known to be under our roof. Some
of our friends have already seen her. As the wife of Augustus,
she will be noticed out of respect to us. When Sir John
Matching ran away from home, and married an obscure young
Woman, whose family was even more objectionable than Ger-

62 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

trade's, his mother took her by the hand. I recollect her saying
to me, with tears in her eye3, — ' Mrs. Donnelly, I would give all
my jointure that the girl were dead ; but it is bad policy to
tread down our Own connexions.' Poor woman! it nearly
broke her heart. Many and many a time she came to weep
over her griefs with me. I was her dearest friend."

" There ought to bo a law making such marriages invalid,"
said Miss Sophia, with a spiteful look at Gertrude.

Gertrude's tears were by this time falling fast — humiliated,
helpless, and miserable, she could not defend herself against
the contumely heaped upon her. She rose to take refuge in her
own room, saying, between her sobs, "I hope Augustus will
soon have a home to take me to — I would never have married
him if I had thought it would come to this."

" Poor young creature ! " said Mrs. Donnelly. " She seems
acutely sensible of her unfortunate origin. I am sorry for
her."

" I can feel no sympathy for sorrow which people like her
bring upon themselves by intruding where they have no right.
She seems to bo a most ill-regulated young woman. I \yoncler
how Augustus could become so infatuated with her."

Poor Gertrude, after crying till she could cry no longer, sat
down and wrote an indignant letter to her husband, entreatino-
him to send for her directly, " as she neither could nor would
put up with such insulting treatment." When it was finished
a most unexpected difficulty presented itself; — she did not know
how to address it. Augustus had left her no direction !

She was in this dilemma when she was summoned to tea.
There was a dull and sullen respite to her annoyances • no one
spoke. Mrs. Donnelly told no more histories of her triumphs
at the Viceregal Court; Miss Sophia was engrossed in her

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 63

work, and Gertrude in her own thoughts. She was meditating
a bold resolve how to speak to her mother-in-law about her
board and lodging. This she effected with an address of which
she had believed herself not capable.

Mrs. Donnelly, who feared she had allowed the moment for
making a bargain to escape, was restored to a comfortable
frame of mind by the prospect of having ten additional shillings
a-wcek to go upon for house-keeping. As Gertrude was an
inevitable misfortune to the family, she felt this as a small con-
solation, and she wished her daughter-in-law good night with
something of the blandness with which she treated the world in
general.

l. j t;i2 so:;r..j',vs c? GExnuxY.

CHAPTER XI.

People who will not bear a little will be obliged in the end
to bear a great deal. Gertrude did not know this aphorism,
but she was in the course of working out the truth of it by
painful and practical experience.

She had been unhappy at horns because she had a disgust
to the natural duties entailed upon her there. For this her
mother was in some degree to blame, by the unsuitable and
showy education she had given her daughter. But everybody
must bear in their own persons the results of their own doings,
lucky if thoir own follies are not complicated and aggravated
by tha misdoings of others. Nature rigidly exacts natural
effects from their legitimate causes, without inquiring who is ti
blame; therefore, making excuses, and laying the fault on
others (although it may be a soothing process to human nature),
is of no avail, except as a cordial to the self-love that would
otherwise be too mortally wounded.

To release herself from the annoyances of home, Gertrude
had eloped with and married Mr. Augustus Donnelly, whom she
scarcely knew, and whom she did not love at all, whereby she
mortgaged her whole future life, incurred difficulties, duties, and
responsibilities of the most serious nature. That whole future
life, supposing her to have become possessed of wisdom and

THB SORROWS 09 GSKT1LITT. 65

patience by special miracle, would only hare enabled her to
struggle till death to correct the one g'reat cardinal mistake sha
had made on starting1, without ever being able to do so. For it
is to be observed, that in all matters of life and morals, a thou-
sand small things are not equivalent to one greai thin^, how-
ever different the caso may be in arithmetic.

It is doubtless very pathetic to see amiable pei'sons merito-
riously struggling against the consequence of some bygone
folly; but if people could once for all convince themselves that
Nature never indulges in pathetic emotions, but sternly executes
her own laws, they would perhaps be more careful how they
infringed them.

To return, howerer, to Gertrude.

Several days passed, during which she heard nothing from
Augustus, and she did not like to ask either Mrs. Donnelly or
Miss Sophia for his address, lest they should fancy she wished
to complain. In the meanwhile 6he had " appeared at church "
— which in a country place is equivalent to being presented at
Court — and numerous invitations to social tea drinkings and
evening parties, together with a few set dinner parties, had
followed. Mrs. Donnelly had no reason to complain that her
acquaintance and friends were remiss in their attentions. But
all the consoling influence of this neighbourly consideration was
blunted, not to say embittered, by the consciousness that Ger-
trude was not, and never" could or would be, a credit to the
family ; whilst Miss Sophia was further aggravated by seeing
her plebeian sister-in-law not only take precedence of her, but
enjoy a great deal more attention and popularity than had ever
fallen to her own lot. Gertrude was a novelty, and with her
graceful appearance, pleasing manners, and accomplishments
(which were much rarer in those days even in respectable
6

66 THE SORROWS OF GSXIILTTY.

society than they are now), sho had a great success : if her con-
fidence in herself had not been so mercilessly trodden down at
home, she might have become a leader in the set to which she
was now introduced. Bat her triumphs abroad were bitterly
expiated at home.

It was in vain that Gertrude endeavoured by her submissive
behaviour, and by all manner cf little- ingratiating ways, to
propitiate her contemptuous relatives. One-tenth part of this
forbearance and gentleness, if it had been exerted at home
towards her own parents, would not only have gladdened their
hearts, but would have sufficed to turn away all the more prac-
tical and obvious objections to her position. As it was, they
wasted their sweetness en the desert air — so far as her august
mother and sister-in-law were concerned.

It was in vain that sho painted a velvet cushion for the book
of heraldry, and presented -diss Sophia with an elaborately
worked set of India muslin robings. Equally in vain was it
that she made a beautiful filagree tea-caddy for Mrs. Donnelly,
with the observation that it was the pattern of one which the
Duchess of Leith had given to Miss Mellish. It only provoked
a disconsolate regret that Gertrude's connexion with the aris-
tocracy should be of so shadowy a nature. All her attempts at
conciliation were treated as mere matters of course — a tribute
from her inferiority to which they were entitled.

People who live in a constant strain to catch hold of a rank
in life above their natural standing, cannot afford to indulge in
any kind-heartedness ; they are victims to a social strappado —
they have nothing solid to stand upon, and are painfully sus-
pended from above. A weight like Gertrude attached to the
Donnelly pretensions was a cruel aggravation of their difficul-
ties. No wonder Mrs. Donnelly's natural blandness of demeanour
failed at such a stretch,

THE SOEKOWS OF GESTILTTT. &7

" I wonder," said Miss Sophia, snecringly, " that you have
never thought it worth while to keep up your acquaintance with
this Miss Mellish. If she invited you to stay with her under
your former objectionable circumstances, she would be more
likely, I should think, to do so now that they exist no longer,
and you are become a member of respectable society."

" I wrote to Miss Mellish whilst we were in the north," replied
Gertrude, meekly, " but her father returned the letter unopened,
and requested me not to write again. I felt it a good deal, but
I know it was not her doing."

" No doubt Mr. Mellish felt like a father," said Mrs. Donnelly,
sentimentally. " He, with his old family descent, would be
keenly alive to the desecration of an unequal alliance, and I own
that I feel obliged to him for his sympathy with us."

"But," persisted Miss Sophia, "now that we have so gener-
ously received you, and countenanced you, he need not feel the
objection that was quite natural, and even laudable, whilst you
were a mere adventuress, and it was doubtful even whether your
marriage would be valid. My opinion is, that you should write
again to Miss Mellish, and enclose it in an humble letter to her
father representing this." t

" It would be of no avail," replied Gertrude, sadly ; " for Mr.
Mellish declared that it was the want of respect I had shown
towards my own parents which had decided him thus to break
off my acquaintance with his daughter. Besides," added she,
with more spirit than she had hitherto shown, "I would not
write again under any circumstances, after he had once said he
did not choose his daughter to continue the acquaintance."

"Then I must say," rejoined Miss Sophia, with emphasis,
" that you show wonderfully little idea of what you owe to us,
and extreme indifference to the only compensation in your power
6—2

68 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

for the disgrace you have brought upon us. Bat I do not wonder
at the course Mr. Mellish has pursued, for you are the very last
person with whom I would desire a sister or relative of mine to
associate. It is our great and lamentable misfortune that the
law of the land has given you the right to bear our name."

Miss Sophia petulantly opened the book of heraldry, and
began to work at an illuminated index — an idea that she had
picked up at Lady Elrington's, where they had all dined the
preceding week. She did not deign to speak to Gertrude again
for the remainder of that day.

THK SORROWS OF GESTIim. 69

CHAPTER XII.

We ought to have stated that Gertrude received several
letters from her husband during this period : the first had come
about a week after his departure. They were all to much the
same purport, viz., that he adored her, and only endured his life
in the hope of being soon re-united to her ; but that, as he had
not yet obtained the situation, he could not send for her. He,
however, seemed to be finding many distractions, from his inci-
dental mention of races, excursions, water-parties, &o.

In his later letters he told her that he had something in pros-
pect, that Southend was moving heaven and earth in his favour,
and that there was no doubt that he would have something
given to him soon; adding, with exquisite fatuity, ''but, of
course, unless it is something worth having, I shall refuse to
accept it."

In conclusion, he always begged Gertrude to take care of her-
self, and to stint herself in nothing. But he did not send her
any money, and her pecuniary resources were rapidly dwindling
away under the payment of her weekly stipend, and frequent
small loans to her mother-in-law, which were never repaid ; to
say nothing of various petty expenses to which she was sub-
jected.

When she had inhabited this domestic purgatory for about

70 THE SORKOWS OF GENTILITY.

two months, Gertrude 0119 fine morning received a letter bearing
a large handsome official seal. This time it was a letter worth
its postage ! It announced that the incomparable Augustus had
at length received a place adequate to his merits — a delightful
" situation under government " with a salary of six hundred
pounds a-year, and many perquisites, whilst the duties were
nothing to speak of. The letter was fall of expressions of
delight at the prospect of being re-united to his adored Gertrude,
whom he entreated to come to him without delay. A postscript
was added, which was characteristic enough of the man :

" If you want money, let me know, and I will send you some.

" Lord Southend has agreed to let us have a house of his in
Queen Square, rent free : and I am busy getting it ready for
you. It has been a long while empty, and would be all the
better for paint and whitewash ; but it will serve our purpose
till something else offers."

The fact was, that Augustus had been on the point of enclosing
Gertrude a five-pound note, but on second thoughts he had recol-
lected that he was going to Tmibridge with Lord Southend and
a few others, and that the money would be very handy. So he
altered the enclosure he was about to make for the postscript
wc have recorded. The passage about the house was quite true ;
but he intended Gertrude to infer that he was investing his
money in furniture, which was not true, for he was ordering it
in upon credit.

Tho receipt of this letter changed at once the aspect of Ger-
trude's fortune. The news it contained made a pleasant excite-
ment, and gratified the maternal pride of Mrs. Donnelly's heart
and revived her hopes. Augustus had received a " government
situation ; " he was amongst people who appreciated his merits •
he would, after all, restore the fortunes of his family, and it

THE SORROWS 01? GENTILITY. 71

would be charming to be invited to make her home of his house
in London!

A3 these ideas passed through her mind, she wished that she
had not been quite so parsimonious in her housekeeping1, nor so
severe in her strictures upon her son's wife, of whose power to
prevent the realisation of her London dreams she became sud-
denly aware.

Under the combined influence of all these motives, she grew
expansive and affectionate towards her " dear Gertrude," as she
called her twice in a quarter of an hour.

As to Miss Sophia, to do her justice, it must be confessed
that she did not become more amiable in the least; in fact,
she was suffering under such strong spasms of envy and
jealousy, that amiability would have been a very uncommon
symptom.

London was the subject of Miss Sophia's deepest thoughts by
day and night ; to pass " a season in London " had been the
great object of her desire all her life — at least ever since she
had arrived at years to know all the meaning- contained in the
phrase, and it was a very long time since she had acquired this
knowledge. She believed herself peculiarly formed to shine in
society, and she made no doubt of achieving great triumphs,
and forming an alliance worthy of her illustrious name and
descent, if she had a career once opened to her talents. Now
when, by a stroke of good fortune, such a consummation was
brought within sight — almost within her reach — she, Sophia
Donnelly, by some unaccountable mistake, was left to vegetate
in the genteel obscurity of a country town ; whilst Gertrude,
who had no claims, who was scarcely good enough to be her
lady's maid, was called from her very side to live in the para-
dise of London, and preside over an establishment of her own !

C<!> THE SOIIEOWS OF GEXTTUT?.

It was enough to break her heart, and in those days of tight
lacing it did make her feel very poorly indeed.

"Upon my word you are an extremely fortunate young
woman," gaid she, in a tone impossible to describe ; and with a
look of lofty detestation at Gertrude, ehe swept out of the room.

Gertrude was, however, too enchanted at the prospect of her
liberation to care either for the civilities of her mother-in-law
or for the spite of her sister. Her newly-announced prosperity
made her tolerant ; she bore no malice for past affronts — she
thought only how she might the soonest leave her present
abode.

She wrote to Augustus telling him how happy hia letter had
made her, and modestly requesting him to send her a little
money, explaining how it happened that she had spent her
own.

Augustus bestowed a very unfilial epithet upon his mother ;
but as he had now become as impatient to see Gertrude again
as a spoiled child for a promised toy, he wasted no time in un-
profitable words. The money he had originally intended to
send her had been nearly spent, and the first instalment of his
salary was not due — but this did not materially embarrass him,
for borrowing money seemed quite as natural as to have it law-
fully belong to him. He only paused to think which of his
friends he ha.l not applied to for the longest period, and went
to him. The sua of his success had not yet Bet. His friend
consented to lend him the means of sending for his wifo, on the
promise that he should be repaid the first quarter day. Au-
gustus had many similar engagements to meet, but he firmly
believed in the mysterious and unlimited powers of his " salary,"
and he did not understand the laws of arithmetic.

Part of the money he immediately despatched to Gertrude,

THE SOHEOWS OP GKXTIL1TY. 78

and strolling along- after putting the letter in the post he saw
a shawl that took his fancy, and ha bought it aa a surprise for
Gertrude on her arrival.

The house which Lord Southend had placed at the disposal
of his friend was a large gloomy mansion. It had been long
untenanted, and was much too large for them, to say nothing of
its being out of repair ; but Augustus did not much trouble him-
self about the dilapidations that were out of sight. The first
floor was in pretty good condition, and it was all they would
need. Hq went to a broker, and desiring him to famish the
first floor, a garret, and kitchen, in ths best style, ha philoso-
phically abandoned the remainder of the dwelling.

Female eyes might hare seen many deficiences, but when the
rooms had been well scoured, and the walls cleaned, and the
venerable cobwebs removed which had hung on them so long
with immunity, and the broker had laid down the carpets, and
brought in a supply of furniture, which, though old and of
various fashions, had still a certain air of g-ood society lingering
about the various articles ; and when the windows were cleaned,
and the daylight could find its way through the heavy and some-
what worm-eaten frames, the improvement was so great that
Augustus thought the place a perfect paradise, and Lord
Southend, who occasionally strolled in to see how Augustus was
getting on, said, " that he had no idea the old ruin could havo
been made so pleasant," and declared his intention of coming
very often to see him when he was settled.

Lord Southend was very rich, and very good-natured, but it
was with a half disdainful, impassive generosity, that took no
note of what it did, or what it gave. Many people lived in his
prosperity, like mites in a cheese, and he hardly knew it. But
he had a real liking for Augustus, he had taken a good deal of

• 4 THS SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

trouble to get him placed in his situation, and had conferred
many benefits on him. Originally he had liked Augustus, be-
cause he amused him; but gradually he had grown to feel
attached to him, because he was the work of his own hands.
Augustus was gentlemanlike, also he was an agreeable com-
panion ; he wa3 easy to help, and had the rare merit of accept-
ing favours gracefully — therein lay his chief talent. In spite
of his propensity to borrow money, and to expect his friends to
make his fortune, he was never felt as the burden which neces-
sitous people nearly always are to those on whom they hang.
He was not a bore ; he had many friends who rather liked to
help him ; but Lord Southend was the sheet-anchor of his
fortune.

At length all the preparations were completed. The establish-
ment consisted of a middle-aged, respectable female servant,
recommended by the housekeeper at Southend House, and a
boy who cleaned the knives and shoes, and brushed the clothes
of Augustus, and wore the species of livery which it had pleased
the tailor to invent for him.

Augustus, who had never enjoyed anything in his life so much
as furnishing this hou-e, was as impatient as a child for Ger-
trude to arrive, that she might see all that had been done.

Gertrude did not delay the preparations for her departure.
Thanks to the newly developed benevolence of her mother-in-
law, the last days of her sojourn were much pleasanter than tho
first. The prospect of getting rid of an unwelcome guest al-
ways stimulates one's almost extinct sentiment of hospitality
into a vivacity that i3 quite wonderful.

Mrs. Donnelly not only assisted Gertrude in her packing,
but she made her a present of an old naval trunk that had be-
longed to her husband, with the inevitable Donnelly arms

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 75

painted on the lid. Also, by way of setting her np in house-
keeping, she gave her a pair of scales — a cookery book, entitled
"Frugality and Elegance" — some pickles, made on a principle
of her own, that is to say, with salt and water, instead of vine-
gar, and some preserves made with molasses instead of sugar,
and much good advice how to behave as became a Connelly.
She was not bad at heart, this old lady. If she had been rich,
or even easy in her circumstances, she would have been very
kind in her way to all who would have allowed her family pre-
tensions ; but her fortune was very threadbare, she lived in a
constant struggle for ways and means to keep " cloth of gold
and cloth of frieze" together; and all her energies were needed
to take care of herself and her daughter.

A3 to Miss Sophia, when she came to reflection she became,
if not gracious, at least le33 insolent, and even went so far as
to present Gertrude with a fan, by way at once of atonement
and propitiation.

At length the day of her departure came, and Gertrude took
her place in the mail which was to carry her to London.

Augustus was waiting for her when the coach stopped at the
end of the journey. He was transported with delight, and
wondered more than ever how he had endured living apart
from her so long. Gertrude on her side was very glad to see
him again ; and when they arrived at the house, and she saw
it looking so cheerful, with good fires in all the rooms, and
lighted up as if for an illumination, and the table which he had
laid for supper with his own hands — it was such a contrast to
all she had left behind, that she felt a regard for her husband
she had never felt before.

Tired as she was with her long journey, Augustus made her
go over the rooms, and pointed out all their charming' pecu-

76 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

liarities ; whilst Gertrude praised everything, and found every,
thing perfect. Until that moment she did not know how very
miserable she had been ; and she felt like one in a dream, or
rather without knowing whether the past or the present were
the reality.

thb sonaoTO o? aawnLnr. ff

CHAPTER XIII.

The nest morning rose in a London fog, and the glowing
cheerfulness of the previous evening wTas quenched in the thick
yellow clammy atmosphere which penetrated every corner of
the house and every pore of the skin. The bed-room grate was
filled with the ashes of the burned out fire, and the floor was
encumbered with open trunks, the contents of which were
strewn about in every direction ; but Gertrude had too much
cause of thankfulness within her heart to feel her spirits de-
pressed by the thickest and heaviest fog which ever perplexed
the streets. She dressed herself in high spirits, and the break-
fast passed over as pleasantly as the supper had done — indeed,
the fog was a source of wonder to her, and she made her hus-
band " laugh consumedly " by her astonishment at such a na-
tural phenomenon.

Augustus must have had a vague notion that his wife had not
been happy under his paternal roof; but as he did not want the
trouble of knowing disagreeable details, if any there were, he
contented himself with asking her carelessly how she got along
with his mother and sister.

Gertrude felt too happy to care about past grievances ; and
it was much to her credit that, instead of trying to excite his

78 THE SOBROWS OP GENTILITY.

sympathy, she replied quietly, " Oh ! pretty well, except some-
times"— and then be^an to talk of something else.

After breakfast she had to see the house again ; it did not
look to great advantage in the fog — but Gertrude was deter-
mined to be pleased, and only begged him to lock the doors of
the empty rooms, " that they might not harbour thieves ! "
Then she descended into the kitchen — her own kitchen ! To all
women — young- married women especially — the " kiiclien" has
a deeper sound of pride and sovereignty than the drawing-
room. She ordered dinner for the first time in her own house,
and did her best to dazzle the eyes of the respectable, but some-
what consequential, servant, by her display of housekeeping
wisdom, which, of course, did not impose upon her in the least;
but the good looks and gentle manners of Gertrude propitiated
her good-will, though, naturally, sho much preferred "the
master," whom she had already pronounced to be a "real
gentleman." She thought Gertrude " very young to have the
care of a house," and prophesied that " she was sure to be im-
posed upon in London ; but she was a nice little body, who gave
herself no airs, and who had been used to liberal ways."

The remainder of the morning was occupied in unpacking
and in establishing herself at iiomi;. Augustas forgot all about
the office and his own business there, to remain at home with
Gertrude, and help her in her arrangements. He was as full of
spirits as a schoolboy ; the charm of having " a house of his
cwn" had already begun to work. He developed the most
wonderful talent as a carpenter ; lie knocked up a set of shelves
for the "store-room," and transferred two old boxes into beauti-
ful foot-stools. There was no end to the genius he showed,
and it all was accompanied by the most beautiful schemes for
making Gertrude "the happiest woman in the world." She

THE SOB COWS OP GENTILITY. 79

was to have " everything she wished for ;" and encouraged to
think of everything she would like best !

In the afternoon the fog cleared off, and one of the friends of
Augustus called, curious to see what Gertrude was like, but
ostensibly to bring tickets for the theatre.

Gertrude had never seen a play in her life, and was half wild
with delight at the prospect of going to one. Her unbounded
and unsophisticated admiration of all she saw greatly amused
her two companions.

Gertrude- was not remarkably clever, but she was natural
and unpretending, and extremely good-tempered, which is
always a stock-in-trade of agreeableness sufficient to make a
woman very popular with nine out of every ten people she
meets ; added to this, there was with Gertrude a certain
straightforward way of saying and doing everything that
gave an impress of character and piquancy to what might
otherwise have been insipid.

The consequence was that Gertrude became a great favourite
with all her husband's friends.

Gertrude had often thought of her mother : the recollection
of her own neglect and disobedience lay an unacknowledged
weight upon her heart, and had aggravated all her sufferings
under Mrs. Donnelly. Still she was not come to her right
mind ; and she had delayed writing to Mrs. Slocum (the only
channel ever left open) until she could send news of herself
which should command the respect and envy of the Misses
Slocum. Her mother's anxiety was of secondary importance
compared with what <: these Slocums " would think of her
position ! Now, however, that she was installed in a house of
her own, and her husband had a " situation un,ler government,"
her vanity raised no more obstacles, and her first employment

80 TUB SOItROWS 0? flBXTiLITY.

was to write her mother a long latter, umder cover to Mrs.
Slocum.

Tkere ensued a few very happy months in the life of Ger-
trude.

Augustus was fond of his wife, and very proud of her, and
with husbands, their estimation of their wives goes a great
deal by the degree of pride they are able to take in them.

He spent all his time at home, when not at his business, and
knew no pleasure but that of taking her about to see all the
sights of London : he went nowhere without her, and bid fair
to become quite a domestic character.

Careless as had been his own habits, he showed discretion in
the associates he introduced to his wife. They were mostly
young men, like himself, for during his baehelor-life he had not
had occasion to cultivate female society ; but they all treated
Gertrude with great respect, and showed hor much kindness
in many ways.

Sho made the house very pleasant, and those who had the
?;;/;■?.! to it liked to go there. It certainly was a questionable
position for a young woman to be placed in ; but Gertrude had
never been brought up in society, and she did not know but
what it was the most natural thing in the world for her hus-
band to bring his bachelor-friends homo. She never dreamed
that it was possible for a " married woman " to flirt, or to en-
ileavour to attract any man's attention except her husband's.
She had a vague idea that, sooner or later, every woman, " after
she was married," settled down into something like her mother
3r old Mrs. Slocum. Meanwhile, she conducted herself with a
jertain unconcious prudence, an instinctive delicacy and modesty,
diat effectually kept her from any practical danger that might
aave arisen from her exposed position. However essential

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 81

an " accomplished seducer " or an " insidious villain " may be
to novels, still many women pass through life as entirely
unmolested by them as by the wild beasts in Wombwell's
menagerie. Gertrude, happily, was ignorant of their existence.
The real danger that beset both her and her husband was the
prosaic one of running into debt, and spending a great deal
more money than they could afford.

The charming dinners and little suppers, which they gave
abundantly, and their excursions and parties to the Play, ran
away with all the salary due to Augustus for the first quarter ;
and, of course, the debts previously contracted had to stand over
for their hope of liquidation to the next quarter-day. The loans
were all luckily from friends who did not press for payment,
and the chiof creditor was the broker from whom the furnifcuro
had been hired, and ha was pacified by a small instalment and a
promissory note. They had three more months before them.

But this pleasant state of things came to an end, and, like
many other misfortunes, arrived in the disguise of something
highly fortunate.

32 THE SOK'.iOTS OF GSXflMTY.

CHAPTER XIV-

Wheit Lord Southend's mother arrived in London for the
season, her son told her the history of Augustus and his wife,
and entreated her notice and protection for Gertrude.

Old Lady Southend was, in her way, as proud of her rank and
birth as Mrs. Donnelly herself; and much as she loved her son,
would sooner have seen him dead than the victim of a Viesal-
liance; but she was too lofty and too self-sustained to need any
support for her pretensions from external aid. She had no fear
of compromising her dignity by admitting persons of a lower
station into her society, if sue happened to like them. She
never forgot that she was "Lady Southend;" and whatever she
chose to do was right in her own eyes. She was, moreover,
though abundantly whimsical and impertinent, rather kind-
hearted than otherwise, and did not want for good sense.

When her son made his petition in behalf of Gertrude, she
made no difficulty ; she liked to know who and what the people
were with whom her son frequented, but she \evy sensibly told
him that he was doing his present proteges no real kindness in
introducing them to society above their ways and means.
"However," she added, "that is their concern; you shall never
make a request to me in vain. I will see the wife ; and if she
is inoffensive, and not vulgar, I will try what I can do with her.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 83

Let her call on me to-morrow at twelve o'clock." This message
was duly conveyed, and received by Augustus and Gertrude with
becoming gratitude.

The next morning Gertrude dressed herself with great care.
At her earnest request Augustus stopped at home to give his
opinion and advice as to what she should wear. When her
toilet was completed, he declared she looked like an angel, and
handed her into the glass coach which he had been to fetch
himself.

Gertrude felt terribly nervous when she was ushered into the
old lady's dressing-room ; but the visit passed over better than
she expected. Lady Southend understood all about her at a
glance ; but she was pleased with her appearance, and with her
unaffected manner of replying to all the questions she was
asked. After an audience of half-an-hour Gertrude was
graciously dismissed.

Augustus was waiting to receive her on her return home.

"Well, and how did you get on ?" he asked, impatiently.

" Very well, indeed. She is as plain as possible in all her
ways, and I felt as much at my ease as if I had known her all
my life, I wonder why she is said to be so proud ; she did not
show herself so to me. I don't think she is the grand court
lady your mother is, for e-xample."

" Yon see my mother feels herself obliged to keep up her
dignity, or else people would not know who she is ; while every-
body knows that her ladyship is her ladyship."

Shortly afterwards Gertrude and Augustus received an invi-
tation to an assembly at Southend House, which involved the
necessity of a new dress for Gertrude, and a new waistcoat, of
the most expensive fashion, for Augustus, and a great expendi-
ture for a coach to take them and bring them back.

84 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

The assembly was large and dull. Gertrude was acquainted
with no one. Lady Southend was too busy to pay much atten-
tion to her. Lord Southend spoke to her when she came in,
and presented a partner to her, but he himself was obliged to
be elsewhere. Augustus was at a card-table, playing much
higher than he ought to have done ; and Gertrude, when the
dance was over, sat down in a distant corner between two fat
old ladies covered with diamonds. They looked at her as
though surprised at her intrusion, but preserved a lofty silence.
Gertrude ventured a timid observation ; but instead of a reply
she obtained a look which effectually silenced her, and left the
feeling that she had committed gome unpardonable breach of
politeness.

She sat looking at the moving brilliant crowd before her, —
looking at the rooms and the decorations, — repeating to herself,
to fix it as a fact upon her memory, which was not hereafter to
be denied, that she was at " Southend House," — at " Lady
Southend's assembly," — a member of the same company with
Lords, Dukes, Countesses, and even Princesses for anything she
knew to the contrary ! She thought of Mrs. Donnelly and Miss
Sophia ; and in fancying to herself all that they would say and
think if they could see her there, she disguised the dulness of
the present moment, and the very little real satisfaction she
enjoyed in this realisation of all ber most ambitious dreams.

Our dreams and desires, when they seem to be the most
completely realised, generally come to ns with some essential
element omitted, which makes them consequently fall very flat
and savourless. Gertrude's secret day-dreams had been to mix
in good society, — to go to the balls and parties of persons of
real quality and distinction. Here she was, in the midst of a
party of the elite of the land ! She was in the very best society

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 85

possible, and yet she found it dull, and she was doing anything
but enjoying herself. She felt overlooked and neglected, and
neglect ia neglect ; however extenuating the circumstances, the
effect is equally unpleasant. Gertrude, in her reveries and air
castles, had never contemplated such an accident !

At length Augustus came to seek her ; the evening was at
an end, it was time to go home. He looked flushed and vexed,
he had lost a great deal of money, he had drunk more wine
than he ought to have done, and had got into a dispute. With
some difficulty they gained their coach ; and wearied and dis-
satisfied with their debut in fashionable life, they retired to rest
almost without speaking to each other. Gertrude was only
jaded, but Augustus was sulky.

In a day or two, however, the actual honour and glory of
baving spent an evening in each high society expanded in full
bloom.

Gertrude took occasion to write to her august mother-in-law
a full account of their visit, adding, for the benefit of Miss
Sophia, a graphic description of the different dresses, the style
in which the ladies wore their hair, not failing to celebrate with
raptures the superb diamonds and other jewels which had
flashed upon her eyes.

This letter waa intended to be a sort of mild revenge for all
the contumely which she had endured at the hands of the ladies
to whom it wa9 addressed. She knew it would be gall and
wormwood to Miss Sophia, and she therefore added every detail
she could recollect, speaking of it, at the same time, in a calm
unexcited tone, as if the ordinary tenour of her life lay in the
ranks of the aristocracy. She spoke familiarly of Lord Southend
" sitting in her drawing-room and poking all the fire out of the
grate," and added a variety of little incidents about the tickets

86 Till! S0EE0W3 OP GEKTILITY.

brought to her for the opera, and her unlimited command of
boxes for the theatre.

She had to pay dearly for this little vengeance, though, to be
sure, the event must have come sooner or later, but it certainly
brought about the crisis much sooner than it would otherwise
have occurred.

Mrs. Donnelly read the letter through with compressed lips,
and then handed it to her daughter, only observing, " Upon my
word, it will be well if that young woman's head be not turned
at iue rate she seems going on."

Miss Sophia read it, and burst fairly into tear3, exclaiming
between her sobs : —

" The mode in which she speaks of things and persons so
much above her, is perfectly audacious ! It is really too bad to
see such advantage's falling to the lot of a low creature who has
disgraced our family, whilst WE, its natural representatives, are
buried in this obscure hole, seeing no one, hearing nothing, and
going nowhere. Really, ma'am, I do not see but that we have
as good a right to live in London as Augustus and his precious
wife ! "

" Gently, my dear, gently," replied her mother. " Tou are
such a dear impulsive creature ! It is the dearest wish of my
heart to see you in the metropolis, moving in the circle to which
you were born, and admired as you ought to be ; but leave me
to manage with your brother. Unless v,-e act with judgment,
his wife will have influence enough with him to keep such a
formidable rival as you would be at a distance. You must
make your calls without me to day ; you can excuse me to our
friends on the plea of illness."

Miss Sophia suffered herself to be comforted, and departed on
her round of morning calls, taking with her, however, Ger-

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 87

trade's letter, with which she failed not to edify hei' audience,
and to impress upon them that her brother and his wife were
persons of importance in the very best circles of society ! Lady
Southend's party did plenty of duty.

" How far a little candle shed its rays !
So shines a good deed in this naught}' world."

88 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

ClIArTER XV.

About a fortnight after the foregoing incident, as Augustus
and Gertrude were at breakfast, a letter arrived from Mrs.
Donnelly to her son. She spoke pathetically of her " failing
health," and her desire to procure better medical advice than
their town afforded; she declared her intention of coming up
to London, with Sophia, if she could succocd in lotting her house
for the term of her absence, and begged Augustus to inquire
about lodgings for them.

" I tell you what," said Augustus, helping himself to a middle
piece of buttered toast, and tossing the letter to Gertrude, " a
capital idea has just struck me; there is room enough in this
house for all of U3 without quarrelling ; and if my mother were
to let her house and to bring her furniture here, we might send
this we aro using back to tho broker ; wo are paying a tremen-
dous price for the use of it, I can tell you ; the man sent in his
bill again yesterday. It is a most extravagant way of going to
work; I would never hire furniture again."

Poor Gertrude could only gasp out, " You surely do not meau
your mother and sister to live with us here ! "

" And why not, pray ? "

" Oh, no, please not, dear Augustus, it will be so dreadful."

" If you will assign any good reason that it should not be as

THE SORROWS 01? GENTILITY. 89

I wiah, I will attend to you ; but you seem to have no idea of
the necessity of economy, and to indulge in nothing but your
own fancies."

" Indeed, I don't care how saving we are, and I will try to
be so ; but you do not know what it is to live with your mother,
or you would not talk of having her to live with us."

This was the nearest approach to a complaint Gertrude had
ever made ; but it had no effect upon her husband, who just
then was possessed solely by the idea of the wonderful advan-
tage of having furniture without paying for it. He desired
Gertrude " not to. be foolish," and went off to his office, where,
in the natural course of thing3, not having much to do, with
the precipitancy of a procrastinating man, he wrote off to his
mother proposing that she should bring her furniture to London,
and that they should all live together."

90 THE SOSSOV/3 0? GENTILITY.

CHAPTER XVI.

"A letter from London, ma'am ; elevenpence, if yon please,"
said Mrs. Donnelly's foot-boy, entering1 the breakfast-rooni with
the missive in question on a silver waiter.

" Postage is very expensive," said Miss Sophia, querulously ;
" I hope it is not one of Gertrude's flimsy, vain letters, about
her visits and grand parties at home and abroad. It is wonder-
ful to see the audacity of that young woman ; she mixes in good
society as though she had been born to it. She will bring
Augustus to the Gazette for his foolish indulgence of all her
whims."

Mrs. Donnelly had been reading her letter, unheeding the
pearls and diamonds which which were distilling from the lips
of her fair daughter ; she now looked up and said, "What is it,
my dear ? What has annoyed you ? Kead this to comfort you,
and tell me if I am not a good general where the interest of
my darling Sophia is concerned."

Miss Sophia read her brother's letter with a satisfaction that,
in spite of her efforts, showed itself upon her countenance ; she
was provoked at feeling so pleased.

" You observe," said she, " that Gertrude does not appear in
all this : depend upon it, she will do all in her power to hinder

THE SOEROWS OF GENTILITY. 91

our going to live in London. She hates us, of that I am con-
vinced."

" Ko, my dear, to do Gertrude justice, she has never failed in
the due respect she owes both to you and to me. I am inclined
to think that, inexperienced as she is, she has got embarrassed
amongst the details of housekeeping. A young creature out
of the schoolroom, how should she know any better ! The
heart of poor Augustus was always in the right place ; he
would be glad to have his poor old mother to give an eye to
his household affairs. I do not deny that it will be for his ulti-
mate benefit, but I own I am pleased that he wishes us to share
his home and his prosperity."

" And are we to be under the dominion of Gertrude ? " asked
Miss Sophia, sharply ; " it will be more than I can endure with
composure to see her at the head of the family, whilst you,
ma'am, are to be made a mere cypher; for my part, I see little
to rejoice at in the arrangement."

" Gently, my dear. Of course I am not going to leave my
own peaceful and well loved home to live with two young
people like Augustus and Gertrude without some distinct under-
standing of our relative position. You may depend upon it
that I shall consult both your dignity and my own."

" When do you suppose we shall go ? " said Miss Sophia
abruptly, after a pause.

" It will take some time to arrange my affairs here, and we
had better not seem too eager to agree to the proposal. Many
things will have to be settled before we come to any definite
conclusion ; I shall, however, write to your brother by the next
post."

Mrs. Donnelly piqued herself upon her powers of diction, and
certainly it was not always easy to discover what she meant by

92 THE S03E0W5 OF GEXTILITT.

■what she sail. She wrote ft letter to Augustus, dilating upon
the charms of the town of Springfield, the beauty of the sur-
rounding neighbourhood, the pleasant society, the extreme
respect and esteem which she enjoyed, and the charm that
everybody found in the conversation, manners, and elegant
accomplishments of -diss Sophia ; of the great convenience and
spaciousness of her house (vrliieh was her own) ; of the small
expense at which she was able to keep up an equality with the
best families in the county — in fact, it was an elaborate essay
on the blessings and comforts that surrounded the mother of
Augustus, suggesting the question, what equivalent he could
offer that she should leave all this paradise of advantages to
live in noisy, dark, smoky London? She nattered his vanity
as a man, praised his conduct as a son, enlarged on her own
affection as a mother, and, in conclusion, regretted gently, but
very gently, that a man like him should not have a wife in every
respect worthy of him, anl capable of appreciating him as he
deserved.

The old lady, to do her justice, was quite sincere in her flat-
tery — she candidly bel level that her son Augustus and her
daughter Sophia were peculiar specimens of human perfection ;
but the flattery, in this instance, was employed to carry a point
upon which she had set her heart, and was not an overflow of
maternal affection, as she intended Augustus to believe.

The letter despatched, she awaited the result, like a spider in
her web, with confidence and composure. Poor Gertrude, in
the meanwhile, was not inactive. The prospect of having her
mother-in-law and sister-in-law for permanent inmates was too
dreadful for her not to use all means to avert it. All the com-
fort of her future life was at stake. She divined that she
should obtain nothing by appealing to her husband's justice or

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 93

to his affeotion, or to any quality the exorcise of which entailed
the smallest sacrifice of his own convenience. Lord Southend
called in whilst she was disconsolately thinking what she should
say to Augustus to persuade him not to make her so very miser-
able. He had always been very kind to Gertrude ; he had a frank
and cordial regard for her, and wondered how she could ever
have been so much in love with hia friend Augustus as to make
a runaway match with him. Finding her this afternoon in low
spirits, he good-naturedly endeavoured to find out the cause.
Gertrude, with the impulsive straightforwardness which was
the chief feature of her character, told him the terrible inflic-
tion that was impending.

Lord Southend felt very sorry for her, and was insensibly
flattered by being so frankly taken into hor confidence. He
promised to talk to Augustus, and to dissuade him from his
project. He exhorted Gertrude to keep np hor spirits, and
finally delivered the message he had brought from his mother,
to the effect that she would call for Gertrude that evening to
go the theatre to see Mrs. Siddons.

This was very effectual distraction to her thoughts for the
time being. Augustus came in — he was in high good humour
— delighted to hear of the invitation. He was always pleased
to have Gertrude noticed by Lady Southend, or by any one
whom he considered a person of importance. Gertrude felt the
advantage, and determined to use it.

Lady Southend called for her at the appointed time, and
brought her back Augustus was at home — he came to the
door to receive Gertrude, and to make his bow to her ladyship
— his vanity was gratified — and Gertrude shone with the
reflected lustre of Lady Southend's favour. Gertrude's virtues
had never produced half the effect of this visit to the theatre

94 THE SOREOWS OF GENTILITY.

with Lady Southend. Gertrude was not given to metaphysics,
she accepted facts as she found them.

There was a bright fire, and a nice little supper all ready.
After supper Mr. Augustus mixed himself a tumbler of whisky
toddy — and Gertrude, feeling this to be a propitious moment,
led the conversation to the projected introduction of Mrs.
Donnelly into their household.

She told him of the life she had led with his mother, she de-
scribed their " sitting for company," and the domestic eclipse
afterwards, the genteel card and supper parties, and the house-
hold fasts that succeeded ; but she made it amusing- rather than
pathetic. She spoke also of the contumely to which she herself
had been subjected — but she touched lightly on this, for
Augustus had an idea of his mother's dignity that was won-
derful, and she had impressed Gertrude herself with the idea
that she was the very type and ideal of a great lady — faith is
a great solvent, the toughest and stubbornest facts — of contrary
facts, melt under its influence like wax.

About his sister she was less reserved — there is a natural
enmity between sisters-in-law — they always speak candidly of
each other.

The result was, that by the time Mr. Augustus had
come to the end of his second tumbler he saw matters in
quite a different point of view to what they had appeared
before.

""Well, my dear girl!" said he, rising, "you shall never be
made miserable by me or mine — you are a good girl, and I am
proud of you. You shall keep the money, and manage every-
thing as you please. Lord Southend says you are the most
prudent woman he knows."

" Well, then, dear Augustus," interrupted Gertrude, anxious

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 95

to bring him back to the main question, " you promise me that
your mother shall not come to live with us ? "

" You may set your mind at resfc about that — I will write
again to tell her we have changed our plans."

"Write again to her! Oh, Augustus, surely you have not
written already without talking the matter over," said poor
Gertrude, in dismay.

" Why, you see I had half-an-hour at the office to spare, and
I thought it might as well be done at once as put off. I owed
Vze old lady a letter, besides. I only sounded her upon the
subject; but I will write again to-morrow, I promise, or you
may do so yourself. My dear Gertrude, you are a sensible
woman, and if every wife could talk to her husband as rationally
as you do, there would be more happy marriages."

Gertrude was not altogether re-assured even by this compli-
ment. She felt a misgiving as to the effect of her husband's
letter ; but it was clearly of no use to say more just then — so
resolving that her first occupation the next day should be to
write to her majestic mother-in-law, she lighted her bed candle
and went up stairs.

90 THE SORROWS OF GEXTILITY.

CHAPTER XVII

Lettbrs took longer to travel in those days ; Gertrude's letter
crossed Mrs. Donnelly's. Mr. Augustus had already slightly
relapsed from his faith in his wife's opinion ; his mother's letter
appealed to all his Treak points ; a fit of filial devotion came
orer him, and he thought it would be an admirable compromise
to invite his mother and sister for a long visit.

" See, Gertrude," said he, " my mother seems to have as little
wish to give up her bouse to live with us, as you can have that
she should do so ; read it for yourself. But I tell you what, wo
ought to invito the old lady and Sophia to come for a visit : I
should be unnatural if I did not. I will write her an affec-
tionate letter, and say we both hope to see them for a3 long as
they can make it convenient — what do you say to that?"

Gertrude could have said a great deal; but she bad tho
prudence to be silent. It was not " a time to speak."

Poor Gertrude, with her innocent stratagems, was no match
for Mrs. Donnelly's determination. Fortune was against her too.

It happened (providentially, as Mrs. Donnelly deemed it; but
quite the reverse, as Gertrude viewed the matter) that a lady of
Mrs. Donnelly's acquaintance wrote at this time to inquire into
the probability of Bucces3 there would be for a first-rate
Boarding-school for young ladies at Springfield.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 97

Mrs. Donnelly immediately wrote to intimate that a first-rate
Boarding-school was the one thing needed to put the finishing
touch to the prosperity of Springfield. She enumerated at
least a dozen families who were ardently desirous to see the
advent of an accomplished school-mistress. She dwelt on all
the advantages of the situation, declared that a competent
person would find at once an opening both to fame and fortune,
and concluded by offering to let her own house at a moderate
rent, as she was about to accept the invitation of her son to go
up to London to superintend his house, as his young wife was
delicate and unequal to the fatigue! This letter brought the
answer she desired. The lady allowed herself to be persuaded;
she agreed to take Mrs. Donnelly's house on a lease, and Mrs.
Donnelly showed herself an admirable hand at driving a bar-
gain. Several weeks of necessity elapsed whilst this affair was
pending, during which, as Gertrude received no reply to her
letter, she had begun to flatter herself that her invitation had
been dismissed, and that her mother-in-law was afraid of the
long journey: she never referred to the subject, from a vague
fear of bringing some reality upon herself. One day Augustus
said, " By-the-bye, it is strange my mother has taken no notice
of your letter. I wonder whether it reached her."

" Oh yes," said Gertrude, faintly, " I have no fear about that.
I dare say, now we have spoken of it, that we shall hear very
soon."

Two days afterwards, a letter addressed to Augustus, in the
well-known handwriting of Mrs. Donnelly, sealed with the
enormous coat of arms in a lozenge, was lying on the breakfast
table when they came down stairs. It was short and to the
purpose, and left no room for any hope or illusion. She stated
that she had " re-considered her dear son's proposal — that an
8

98 THE SOEBOWS OF GENTILITY.

advantageous opportunity to let her house having offered, she
had felt it her duty to accept it, and that she felt happy at the
prospect of spending the evening of her days in the midst of
her dear children."

<; Well, there is nothing- for it now,1' said Mr. Augustus,
giving Gertrude his mother's letter, '" and perhaps, after all, it
may be for the best — who knows ; anyhow we shall have the
furniture, which will be a great saving. Do you know we are
paying at the rate of eighty pounds a year for these sticks of
things? I tell you what, my dear girl, you must be more
frugal; our expenses are terrible. I am sure I don't know how
the money goes."

" Does your mother intend to pay us for their board r " asked
Gertrude.

"Good heavens, how vou talk," said Mr. Augustus, indig-
nantly ; '' do you think I am goinq- to charge my own mother
and sister for every bit they put into their mouths — where did
you get such notions I would like to know r "

" But in that case, our expenses would be increased instead of
lessened."

" How do you make that out ? What is enough for one is
enough for two, as everybody knows."

" But you will find that more in the house will make a great
difference. My mother used to say "

" Your mother ! " said Mr. Augustus, scornfully ; " and do you
consider that anything your mother could ever say would apply
to mine? Your mother never gave you sixpence towards
housekeeping, nor a stool nor a chair towards furnishing ; you
never brought me a farthing of money You talk because I
think it right to have my own mother and sister to live with me —
what is it to you if I choose to spend my money on them ? "

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 99

Poor Gertrude was crying too bitterly to reply. Possibly it
was the only answer her husband would have understood. He
had never seen her cry in that way before.

But it was not about him or his unkindness she was weeping1 ;
it was the sharp sting of her own conscience which gave bitter-
ness to her husband's words. She had despised her father and
mother, and now there was no eye to pity her ; whatever
happened, she had deserved everything; it was her own dis-
obedience that had brought her mother into contempt : it was
the bitterest moment she had yet known. Mr. Augustus felt
very awkward : he had not intended his words to mean anything
beyond the ill-temper of the moment.

" Come, come, Ger., don't take on in that way. I am very
sorry if I hurt you : I did not mean it. Come, come, this is our
first real quarrel ; you must forgive and forget. There, that
■will do — give me a kiss, and wipe your eyes."

Bat that was not so easily done. With a strong effort of self-
control, however, she rose and left the breakfast-table — she
went to her own room and struggled to recover her composure.
In a short time she returned. Her husband had begun to feel
uncomfortable ; but when she came back so quietly, he thought
it was only an ordinary fit of temper, because she had been
contradicted, and by a natural revulsion of sentiment, he
applauded himself for his firmness, and instead of apologising
or endeavouring to soothe her feelings, he only said :

" I hope you are in a better humour, and capable of listening
to reason. I will write myself to my mother to settle this
business; but it will look more respectful if you write also, and
say that you entirely approve of the arrangement, and thank
her for the sacrifice she must have made in giving up her
house."

100 THE SOREOWS OF GENTILITY.

And so it was arranged. Mrs. Donnelly proposed to pay for
an extra servant. This and the use of her furniture was to be
considered an equivalent to all other expenses.

Gertrude still hoped that something might occur to prevent
them coming, — pleasant things that seem certain are so often
hindered from coming to pass. But all went on rapidly and
smoothly; not a single hitch occurred in any of the arrange-
ments. Gertrude's heart died within her -when packages after
packages of heavy furniture began to arrive, and all the ready
money in the house was consumed to pay for the carriage.

Every chair and table, as it emerged from its wrappings,
was associated in Gertrude's mind with the dreary time of her
purgatory. When their own things had been sent back to the
broker, and Mrs. Donnelly's furniture arranged in their stead,
it looked like a bad dream come true. Her own pleasant home
was gone, and her mother-in-law's household gods stood in its
place. Things went on in their appointed course ; shortly after
the furniture 'had all arrived, Mrs. Donnelly and her daughter
contrived to be brought up to town themselves by old Lady
Elrington.

IKS SOEEOWS OF GENTILITT. 101

CHAPTER XVIII.

All Gertrude's anticipations of discomfort were more than
realised, and that very speedily.

For the first few days Gertrude continued to direct the house
and to give the orders as usual ; Mrs. Donnelly having her
faculties strictly engaged in taking possession of her new
dwelling, and making herself as comfortable in it " as she owed
it to herself to be." She was very fond of talking of what
" she owed to herself;" and, to do her justice, she was very
scrupulous in her attempts to discharge this debt.

It was a delicate question of precedence as to which of the
two ladies belonged the lawful right of administering the affairs
of the household. Mrs. Donnelly had agreed to contribute a
certain quota to the domestic expenses ; the use of her furniture
being a set-off against her immunity from rent and taxes ; but
it had been left undecided who was to manage the funds.

The first day, when they were all sitting down to dinner,
Gertrude unwarily offered the head of the table to her mother-
in-law, who took it without hesitation, saying, with an amiable
frankness,

" I am not quite sure that I have a right to this place, but I
have been so accustomed to preside over my family, that I do

102 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

not think I could dine in comfort at any other part of the
table."

" And indeed, ma'am," said Miss Sophia, as she took -without
scruple the best seat next the fire, " I am sure that your chil-
dren would be sorry to see you give place for any new comer
whatever."

Augustus looked for a moment as if he did not quite under-
stand why Gertrude should be deposed in her own house, but
he did not like to interfere with his mother, so he only shrugged
his shoulders and said, — " Settle it amongst yourselves ;" at the
same time drawing a chair for Gertrude close beside himself,
and taking hold of her hand. He felt obliged to Gertrude for
submitting quietly, and not involving him in any dispute ; for
Mr. Augustus Donnelly loved an easy life, and hated trouble
more than anything else in the world.

During dinner Mrs. Donnelly looked at all the dishes with
critical eyes, and enquired pleasantly of Gertrude, " whether she
had expected company to dinner ? "

Gertrude blushed; she felt that her mother-in-law thought
her extravagant.

" Gertrude knows I like a good dinner, and always gives me
one ; I see nothing out of the way in this," said Augustus.

Mrs. Donnelly compressed her lips and made a stately motion
with her head, as though to say she was more than answered ;
but in a little while she returned to the attack : —

"If you have any bread not quite so new as this I shall
be glad of it. Do you generally use bread that is quite
new?"

Again Gertrude felt that, in spite of the bland smile which
accompanied this speech, her mother-in-law saw another defect
in her housekeeping. None but young housekeepers know the

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITT. 103

refined cruelty of questions like these, from those who are con-
sidered experienced managers.

" Do your servants help themselves ? " asked Mrs. Donnelly,
towards the close of dinner ; " or do you cut off what you con-
sider proper for them ? In establishments where there is not
a confidential housekeeper to take the head of the second table,
it is quite customary for the mistress to carve for the kitchen ;
by this means all waste is prevented, and the joint is not ren-
dered unsightly by unskilful carving. Lady Rosherville, when
in Ireland, always cuts the meat for the servants' dinner, and
she has told me that she effects an immense saving by so doing ;
for, if left to themselves, servants will eat none but the choicest
morsels."

Gertrude replied that Margaret always seemed very careful ;
but she felt that her mother-in-law looked upon her as very in-
competent to manage a house.

For three days Gertrude went about with the eye of Mrs.
Donnelly upon her, following in silence all she did, till Gertrude
felt quite nervous and lost all confidence in herself. On the
fourth day after her arrival, Mrs. Donnelly said, with a pleasant
smile, " My dear Gertrude, you have never invited me to see
your kitchen, and I own, that to an old-fashioned housekeeper
like myself the kitchen is by far the most interesting depart-
ment of the house ; though young people like you, naturally do
not much care to enter it."

Gertrude, of course, acquiesced ; and the old lady, tying a
green silk calash over her head, descended to the kitchen, cast-
ing her cold grey scrutinising eyes into every quarter, but say-
ing nothing. At length, when they entered the pantry, she
triumphantly pointed out a dish of cold potatoes, saying mildly,
<! I told you, my dear, that I thought you cooked more than were

104 THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY.

needed ; if these are fried with a little butter or dripping, they
will be delicious, and they will be amply sufficient. By the
way, what shall you do with the bones of that fine fish we had
yesterday ? "

Gertrude looked confused, but at length replied, " I suppose
they are thrown away."

" You are a dear, inexperienced creature ! " said the old lady,
tapping Gertrude's cheek with her bony finger. " I see that I
shall have to give you some lessons in the science of economy ;
I have a receipt for making a charmingly delicious soup from
cold fish bones and broken remnants. I have often tasted
it when on a visit to Lady Killaloo ; she is an admirable
house-wife, and turns everything to profit; — but it is vei-y
cold to stand here, and I begin to feel my poor rheu-
matism growing worse ; I will leave you to give your own
orders."

" If you please, ma'am," said the servar1-. when the tapping
of the old lady's shoes had ceased, " I should be gl^l to know
who is going to be my mistress ; I can do very well with you,
and against master I have not a word to say, I could live with
you both with the greatest pleasure, — but I am not going to be
overlooked, nor have my pantry pryed into by that old lady. I
was not engaged for her ; I have been a servant thirteen years,
and I have never been used to such ways." She put down a
tea-cup she had been washing, and gave her head a jerk which
was meant to give emphasis to her words.

" Oh, dear Margaret," said Poor Gertrude, in a despairing
tone, " I have enough to vex me, don't add to it ; I am myself
obliged to give in to Mrs. Donnelly. You know she is your
master's mother."

" I am sure I don't wish to be unaccommodating, but right

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 105

is right, and if you choose to let yourself be put upon, it is no
reason why I should, and I won't either."

Gertrude felt that her troubles were only beginning, and she
was not mistaken. Old Mrs. Donnelly had changed her manner
towards her daughter-in-law, and now treated her with a gra-
cious amiability which presented no flaw in its varnish, yet she
was not the less indignant to see the root Gertrude had taken
in her own house, and the ascendancy she was acquiring over
her husband. She felt that unless she made an immediate
struggle, she and her daughter Sophia would be reduced to
secondary personages, a thing not to be contemplated.

She contrived to be alone with her son, and began to praise
Gertrude. She declared that she loved her as a daughter, and
expanded upon the happiness of being all united in one family.
She then gently, but distinctly, imputed to Gertrude a dangerous
ignorance of domestic affairs, and hinted at the waste and use-
less extravagance which went on in the house.

All men are sensitively alive to the expenses of housekeeping,
and have wonderful theories of economy, by which money is to
be saved, without perceptibly curtailing any of the comforts or
luxuries which are only to be had for money; they are always
ready to believe that with :' good management " a house may be
kept in luxury on " next to nothing." Accordingly, when his
mother discoursed on the wonders of economy, Augustus lent a
willing ear.

People generally keep their virtues at the expense of their
neighbours, and Augustus, who did not know how to deny him-
self anything, was penetrated at the idea of Gertrude's extrava-
gance, and said that he "had always thought she spent more
money than there was any occasion for."

Mrs. Donnelly pursued her advantage. She affected to desire

106 THE SORROWS OF GEXTILITT.

for herself "nothing but an easy chair by the chimn ey-covner,
and to be allowed to nurse herself in peace." She spoke plain-
tively of her infirmities, and said that when she gave up her
own house, it was to be relieved from domestic anxieties, and re-
leased from all household cares.

Mr. Augustus was fully awakened to the inestimable advan-
tage of having a woman like his mother at the head of affairs,
and the more she seemed disposed to decline, the more urgent
he was that she should accept the post.

" But, my dear son," said she, at length, as if yielding to his
importunity, " your wife will feel hurt, and I confess I should
not wish her to dislike me. I only wish to live quietly, and to
have the love of my children. The Donnellys were always a
united family."

" I will settle it all with Gertrude," said Mr. Augustus,
majestically. " She will not make any objections when I tell
her that it is my wish she should resig-n the housekeeping to
you ; as, indeed, it is only proper, seeing that you arc the head
of the house."

Mr. Augustus went immediately to find his wife, and told
her what he had resolved upon, in that indescribable tone of
precipitate authority which husbands often assume to carry a
point upon which discussion might bring defeat.

" Bat " began Gertrude, when she understood the pro-
posal.

l: Now, my dear Gertrude," interrupted he, " do not be foolish.
I am sure you do not care a straw for ordering the dinner
and keeping the keys, which, by the way, you are always
losing."

" I only mislaid them once," said Gertrude.

" No matter, it will be much better for all of us that my

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 107

mother should have the ordering of everything ; she is used to
it, and will do it much better than you."

" Then have I made you uncomfortable, and managed badly ?"
said poor Gertrude, tearfully.

" Oh no, I don't say that ; only you have spent a great deal
of money, and my mother can make it all right."

There was nothing for Gertrude but submission, and from
that day Mrs. Donnelly assumed "the power of the keys," and
conducted herself in all respects as the supreme mistress of the
house.

Gertrude submitted. Necessity teaches this wisdom to the
most stubborn-hearted, only it takes more pressure to break the
will of some than of others, but we may be assured that there
is neither dignity nor discretion in standing a siege against
what must be done sooner or later.

There is all the difference in the world between the rational
wisdom of accepting the duties imposed upon us by circum-
stances and endeavouring to discharge them faithfully, and the
being sullenly and stubbornly broken by the pressure of events,
struggling blindly and stupidly like a wild beast in a net. In
one case, real good is brought out of apparent evil ; in the
other, it is only the beginning of sorrows, the yielding of a
driven beast to torture and blows, of which he knows not the
meaning.

Gertrude submitted, as we have said, but she had not yet
learned to look at her troubles as a lesson of which she had to
learn the significance ; she saw no farther than her mother-in-
law's tyranny and her husband's weakness.

In the meanwhile Mrs. Donnelly carried things with a mag-
nificent hand. To be sure, it may be remarked, in passing, that
she was engaged in a constant warfare with servants ; not one

108 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

could be induced to stay a month in the house ; but as she had
augmented the household by another domestic, they were not
often left altogether without one. Mr3. Donnelly, however,
never failed to attribute these domestic broils to her superior
surveillance, and her vigilant attention to the good of the
family, which brought evils to light which otherwise might
have slumbered undetected.

The whole social system was also revised. Instead of the
improvised parties and pleasant little suppers, Mrs. Donnelly,
who had fished up some old acquaintances, as dreary and stately
as herself, now gave solemn weekly receptions, in imitation of
those in fashionable life.

There was an air of mildewed pretension about these parties,
which effectually took all life and enjoyment out of them ; —
there were card-tables, conversation, and refreshments, which
were rigidly " stylish," both in their material and in the manner
of being served. Mrs. Donnelly was quite as particular that
her jellies, and custards, and pastry, should be from a confec-
tioner who had received the sanction of good society, as that
her guests should, one and all, be irreproachable on the score
of gentility. They were very Pharisees in the rigour with
which they observed the tests of belonging to an exclusively
select circle." They none of them cordially liked each other,
because the height of their social, ambition was to be, or to be
thought to be, intimate with people of a higher position in the
world than themselves ; it stood to reason that they could not
sit down and be comfortable amongst each other ; when Mrs.
Donnelly was making excuses to herself for knowing Mrs.
Mackintosh, because "Mrs. Mackintosh, although looking vulgar,
was the daughter of the Honourable Mrs. Irving, and was often
invited to spend Christmas with some of her high relations,"

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 109

Mrs. Irving made very similar excuses to herself for frequent-
ing Mrs. Donnelly ; everybody who went to the house had some
pretension, and made the most of it.

Lord Southend was persuaded once or twice to look in upon
these gatherings ; but the profuse urbanity of his reception by
Mrs. Donnelly quite suffocated his good-nature ; in fact, he
never would have gone there thrice if it had not been for the
wicked amusement of seeing Miss Sophia's industrious attempt
to catch him in her toils.

This estimable young lady, although so keenly alive to the
misery entailed on families by an unequal marriage, a misfortune
which, as she had suffered from it herself, ought to have quick-
ened her sensibilities, perhaps sought to make reprisals upon
fate, or to efface the stain her family had received ; or, possibly,
from purely and simply the desire to make a good match for
herself; — at any rate, without troubling her head about the
grief and despair it would cause Lord Southend's noble mother,
Miss Sophia deliberately laid herself out to captivate that noble-
man, and spared no charm or seduction within her power to in-
duce him to lay his heart and his title at her feet. She came up
to London penetrated with this design, and, to do her justice,
she did not shrink from prosecuting it to the best of her
ability.

Perseverance will work wonders; but Lord' Southend had a
mother on one side and a mistress on the other, who, from
different motives, watched very jealously the female society he
frequented. Miss Sophia did not know this, and worked her
spider's webs with unflagging energy.

The young men who had been in the habit of calling without
any ceremony, and making little parties of pleasure, in which
Gertrude was always included, found themselves disturbed from

110 THE SORROWS OF GEXTIMTY.

the pleasant footing they had enjoyed. Certain days in the
week no visitors at all were admitted, and when they were re-
ceived they found it almost as formidable to face Mrs. Donnelly,
sitting in state for the receipt of calls, as to be presented at a
levee, to say nothing of not ever being able to have a word
with Gertrude, who, silent and overshadowed in what used to
be the pleasant parlour of old, but which was now transformed
into a state drawing-room, seemed reduced to a cypher, and to
have lost all the unaffected gaiety of heart which had made her
such a pleasant companion. The terrible Miss Sophia, with
her etiquette graces and stiffened affability, was always in the
foreground, and ready to intercept all the attention destined to
Ge.-trude.

To make amends, they were invited to dinner-parties, all
conducted according to the rubric of the established order of
those things. The expensive display ot these dinners was ex-
piated and ransomed by Mrs. Donnelly's economies on the com-
forts of the family for many days after.

Anybody who takes the trouble to give dinners may find
plenty of guests to come and eat them ; however much the
young men might have preferred the old order of things, still
they were not the less willing to come to these dinner-parties
when they were invited. Augustus liked the novel importance
of sitting at the head of his own table, and seeing the regu-
larity with which the courses succeeded each other, and the
precise propriety with which each dish stood in its rig-ht posi-
tion. He felt proud at being the head of the Donnelly family,
and as he instinctively dined out for a week after these " family
dinners," he, by that means, avoided the reaction of his mother's
hospitality. He knew by instinct how long the recoil would
last.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. Ill

Tickets for the theatre, for concerts, and other amusements
were still occasionally brought in ; but Mrs. Donnelly cleverly
contrived that Sophia should be the one to profit by them.

" The dear girl has been so closely confined to the house by
her attendance upon me during my illness, that I am anxious
she should have some little recreation ; indeed, it is absolutely
needful for her health. I am sure Gertrude will not refuse to
stay at home with me ; my book or a cheerful companion are
the only amusements I desire."

As Gertrude made no complaint, Augustus was easily per-
suaded to acquiesce in the arrangement ; but he soon found that
his sister was not half so agreeable as his wife. She was
always fancying that her place was not so good as it ought to
have been, — that people of higher quality were sitting some-
where else ; and she tormented the rest of the party with ques-
tions about their " select acquaintance," or plagued them to
introduce their friends when those friends chanced to be
" distinguished looking."

They soon grew tired of this substitution, and when it was
found that Gertrude made her " health " a reason for refusing
to go into public, they left off bringing tickets, and Augustus
took to his old bachelor habits, except there was company at
home, when his mother made a great point of his appearing.

Old Lady Southend called to see Gertrude soon after Mrs.
Donnelly and Miss Sophia had installed themselves. Of course
they were presented to her, and spared no pains to propitiate
such an august presence. Lady Southend did not like them at
all; and when Mrs. Donnelly entered into some genealogical
statistics to prove that they had mutually ancestors in common,
Lady Southend replied with lofty impertinence, which Mrs.
Donnelly took with the meekness of an angel.

112 THE SOEKOWS OF GENTILITY.

Some time elapsed, and an invitation arrived for Gertrude
and Augustus to another assembly at Southend House, but none
came for the two ladies.

" There must be some mistake," said Miss Sophia. — " Lady
Southend is too polite and too much in the habits of good society
to have intended such an omission," said Mrs. Donnelly. — " The
footman may have dropped the cards on his way." — " They may
have been left elsewhere by mistake." — There was no end to the
excited and anxious surmises that were hazarded by Mrs. Don-
nelly and her daughter.

Augustus was appealed to. He ventured to ask Lord South-
end if there were any mistake, who shook his head, and said,
" My mother only invites those she chooses."

It was an established and premeditated fact, on which no
shadow of doubt remained. Lady Southend had said to her
son : " I have invited your friend Donnelly and his pretty wife,
but I shall have nothing to do with his mother or sister. They
are of the style of women who are vulgar, hard, pretentious,
and mean, — and not even amusing."

" She is insupportable, certainly, with her genealogical tree,
and I am sure I don't want either of them here. I am glad you
have asked Gertrude ; she is a good little creature, and I am
sure those women torment her."

The end of the matter was, that Gertrude was obliged, for
the sake of peace, to write a refusal, alleging her" health as the
excuse. Augustus went alone. This incident, trifling as it may
seem, rendered Gertrude's position still more unpleasant : both
the ladies vented upon her the disappointment of their chief
object and ambition, and chose to consider her in some way or
other as the cause of it.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 113

CHAPTER XIX.

Gertrude's excuse about her health was not altogether
imaginary. She was expecting soon to be confined, and she
was suffering both in health and spirits from her situation.

In the hopes, however, which the prospect of such an event
awoke in her heart, she found consolation for her annoyances,
and was, indeed, able to feel very indifferent to many things
that would have seemed insupportable.

Like many other- women, she fancied that she should not
survive her trial. The thought of her mother lay heavy on her
mind; the desire to see her once more awoke with a vain
feverish earnestness which aggravated her bodily indisposition.
She felt real remorse for her undutifulness, and she would have
made any sacrifice to be able to fall on her mother's neck and
ask her forgiveness. This was denied her ; but she wrote again
through Mrs. Slocum, telling her mother all that was in her
heart. This time there was no vain boasting of her position in
the world, nor even any complaints of Mrs. Donnelly ; the letter
was filled with earnest yearnings to see her mother again, and
to be forgiven. She entreated her to write a single line.

This line of forgiveness did not come, though Gertrude
watched for it with sickening heart day after day, till hope died
away, and a vague fear that something dreadful must have
9

114 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

happened took its place. She fancied that her mother was
dead, and her only comfort was the hope that she was soon to
die too.

Things were not so bad as Gertrude feared. It had happened
that when Gertrude's letter arrived, old Mr. Slocum was dan-
gerously ill, and in the anxiety of attending to him and the
fatigue of nursing him, Gertrude's letter was laid aside to be
read when there was more leisure. It naturally got mislaid
and Mrs. Slocum forgot all about it, until six months afterwards,
when she chanced to open a drawer full of old remnants of silk,
old papers, broken trinkets, and scraps of all kinds, such as old
housekeepers accumulate — this letter of Gertrude's, with its seal
unbroken, met her eyes.

Mrs. Slocum's distress and self-reproach were extreme ; but
she put on her bonnet and went that very afternoon to her old
friend, and they read the letter together. The old lady told her
daughters, on her return, that it "was the most moving thino-
she ever read, as good as a sermon, and quite a parable to
children to teach them what comes of grieving their parents."

It would have been a great comfort to Gertrude could she
have known all the happiness her letter gave her mother, when
at length she received it. She had long forgiven her daughter,
and fretted after her every day that came ; but this letter quite
obliterated the recollecton of her fault, and Gertrude seemed to
her the very best and kindest child that ever lived. She would
have resented it as an injury if any one had told her that her
daughter had been undutiful.

It makes one very sad to think how little a mother's heart
will rejoice upon.

In the meanwhile, Gertrude was confined of a very fine little
girl, which in due time was christened Clarissa, that being a

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 115

family name amongst the Donnellys. Gertrude wished to have
had it named after herself and her mother, but she was
overruled.

Mrs. Donnelly gave a very splendid party at the christening.
Lord Southend and old Lady Elrington were two of the
sponsors ; Miss Sophia volunteered to be the other.

Augustus was of course very proud and very pleased with the
event; and he bought his wife a magnificent lace veil and a
beautiful new dress.

Mrs. Donnelly was as benign as she could be, and hoped " the
babe would be a credit to the family.

As for Gertrude, she clasped the child to her breast, and
shuddered when she thought that perhaps one day it might
behave to her as she had behaved to her own mother. For the
first time, she realised to herself what it was that she had done,
and it seemed to her that the punishment of Heaven on dis-
obedient children must find her out and overtake her.

When they returned from the church after the christening,
she hastened to the nursery, and kneeling by the child's cradle,
she prayed with frantic earnestness that it might never live to
behave to her as she had behaved to her own parents.

116 THE SORROWS OF GEXTILIIT.

CHAPTER XX.

During the next twelve months a great change came over
Gertrude. She had now for the first time in her life a higher
object of interest than her immediate self — her child engrossed
all her time and thoughts ; and provided she might be left
undisturbed in the nursery, Mrs. Donnelly might have the
absolute government of the rest of the house, and Miss Sophia
might engross all the visiting, the theatre-going, and the atten-
tions of all the young men who came about the house. She
abstracted herself more than ever from the concerns of the
family, and allowed them to take in peace the course that seemed
best to the Fates and her mother-in-law.

It was not, however, without a severe struggle that Gertrude
obtained the management of her own child. At first Mrs.
Donnelly wished to be as oracular in the nursery as she already
was in the " parlour, kitchen, and hall." She declared that
" the innocent babe would be sacrificed to the obstinacy and
presumption of its mother." She insisted upon dictating the
number of times it ought to be fed during the day, and was
learned in her dissertations on the invaluable properties of stale
bread crusts made into " pobbis," which, in the E.leusinian mys-
teries of the nursery, means infant's food. Gertrude did not
know much about babies, it is true ; but party from the good

THE SOEROWS OF GENTILITY. 117

fortune of having a sensible man for her doctor, and partly
from the marvellous instinct that comes to mothers, and -which
generally inspired her to reject all Mrs. Donnelly's preparations,
the poor baby escaped wonderfully well.

Gertrude watched like a lynx, that no one except herself
should administer either food or medicine. Mrs. Donnelly did
not care one straw whether the child was fed on bran or on
arrowroot, but she was indignant at the presumption of her
daughter-in-law in setting up her judgment against that "of
the mother of a family," and she magnanimously resolved that
she would not be put down, but persevere for the sake of the
dear infant.

One day, the baby had been restless ; the miseries of " teeth-
ing" were beginning; Mrs. Donnelly watched her opportunity,
and ascending to the nursery took possession of the child, and
proceeded to administer a dose of Lady Killaloe's " teething
powder," which her ladyship always used in her own family,
and with such signal effect, that out of the thirteen little
Killaloes who had been born into that noble family, only three
survived ; which was a good thing both for those who died and
those who lived, for there would have been but a scanty pro-
vision for all. Gertrude, alarmed by the poor baby's screams
for assistance, luckily returned just as the Killaloe elixir was
being poured down its throat at the risk of choking it. She
snatched it up so abruptly that the cup and its contents were
upset over Mrs. Donnelly's gown, and sitting down in the rock-
ing-chair which that lady had vacated in disdainful surprise,
she proceeded to soothe and caress the poor little thing, without
taking the smallest notice of her.

" Eeally, Gertrude," said Mrs. Donnelly, in a tone of reproach-
ful dignity, " your rudeness and abruptness are extraordinary —

118 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

did you suppose I was poisoning the baby that you snatched it
up in that offensive manner ? "

" I don't know, ma'am, at all," replied Gertrude, without
looking up from her baby, " but the doctor desired it might
have no medicine but what he ordered."

" I presume I have the welfare of the child as much at heart
as you can have, but you are too ignorant and prejudiced to be
reasoned with — the child is suffering, and I was about to ad-
minister the medicine invented by a noble and accomplished
matron for the use of her own family ; but after the studied in-
solence I have met with from you, I shall neither advise you
nor enter this room again — my conscience tells me that I have
done enough — too much indeed for my own dignity."

With this, Mrs. Donnelly having metaphorically shaken the
dust from her feet, swept out of the nursery with an air of
majestic indignation. She attempted a complaint to her son,
whom she allowed to surprise her in tears, but he declared he
had enough upon his mind without being plagued with women's
squabbles.

Gertrude was left mistress of the nursery, which she now
rarely quitted, as Augustus was rarely at home. He had gra-
dually resumed all his bachelor habits, and when he was at
home he had become so moody and uncertain in his temper that
everybody felt it a relief when he was away. Gertrude was so
engrossed with her baby that she paid little attention to her
husband's humour, and was in no degree disturbed by many
" signs of the times," which were appearing in the domestic
horizon. If people will walk about with their eyes shut — they
are, sooner or later, awoke by a pretty smart shock.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 119

CHAPTER XXI.

The affairs of Mr. Augustus were by this time coming
rapidly to a crisis. In novels and tales, people who are roll-
ing in wealth get "ruined" in the stroke of a pen; those who
rise millionaires in a morning find themselves beggars at night,
without any previous suspicion of their danger. But in real
life, ruin follows the natural laws of gravitation, and people do
not touch the bottom of the hill without some scrambling efforts
to save themselves. The " road to ruin," like other roads, takes
time to traverse ; some persons take longer than others in ac-
complishing the journey after setting their faces thitherward — ■
but time is a necessary element, even if they stride through
their resources in seven-leagued boots.

Mr. Augustus Donnelly had now been near upon two years in
London. He had for nearly the whole time been in possession
of a Government situation, and in the receipt of six hundred
pounds a year, besides perquisites, which were worth another
fifty pounds. It would have been difficult to persuade him that
he had actually received so much, for he suffered under a chronic
want of money, and never knew what it was to be free from
pecuniary embarrassment. He had drawn the first instalment
of his salary before it became due, and hence he was constantly
a-head of his resources. He had stopped the gaps as they

120 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

arose, by borrowing of his friends ; but as, to use bis own words,
" he always liked to have a little ready money in his pocket,"
and as the debts he owed were out of sight, they were also out
of mind — and his salary had been all frittered away without
anything to show for it.

He still retained, however, a vague idea, that with such an
income " he had no need to stint himself for a few pounds, espe-
cially as his money was quite sure." The old lady, who (excel-
lent manager that she was !) never paid a debt until she was
actually compelled, had refrained from paying her quota of the
household expenses until Augustus should be at leisure to ex-
amine into his affairs.

It is wonderful how long things will go on when they ara
once set going ; it is equally wonderful the little thing that
breaks them up at last, when they are in a fine-spun state of
decay, and have held together, and kept their shape, long after
they ought to have gone to pieces, according to logic. Human
affairs don't go according to logic, however ; but they are bound
by laws equally inexorable, one of which is, that though long
credit is given, yet pay-day comes at last. In this world there
is no obtaining anything gratuitously. The second Christmas
of his sojourn in town had come round, and bills were pouring
in on all sides ; they were most of them " to accounts rendered ;"
it was indeed quite wonderful and appalling to see the small
progress Mr. Augustus Donnelly had made towards "paying
his way" — the bills were of that most provoking and unsatis-
factory kind, for things eaten, drank, and forgotten, so that
there remained nothing to show for the money.

The exemplary Augustus was threateued with an arrest.
The house being Lord Southend's, and the furniture his mother's,
there could be no execution.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITT. 121

Meanwhile the household wheels had grown stiffer and stiffer,
and were come to a stand still.

The old lady had her pension as the widow of an Admiral —
also the rent of her house in Springfield. Her late husband's
brother, the baronet of the family, had allowed her an annuity
of fifty pounds a-year, but with the fatality which attends strokes
of fortune, he chose this present crisis to discontinue it, on the
plea that he had other relations who needed assistance, and as
Augustus was now in the receipt of a settled income he had it
in his power to increase her income.

The letter containing this intelligence arrived at breakfast
time on the second Christmas-day of his residence in town. It
was accompanied by a fresh influx of tailors' bills ; a bill for
some articles Gertrude had ordered for the baby; and other
bills of trifling amount, that had been called "just nothing" at
the time they were ordered, and which, if they had been paid
for at the time, would not have been much, but which now, fall-
ing along with the accumulated weight of other demands, be-
came the last straw to the breaking back of the camel.

Mrs. Donnelly's plausibility failed to conciliate the pheno-
menon of her good management with these long-standing bills.
She looked dismally at the heap of papers, and began to cry
into her tea-cup.

Mr. Augustus swore emphatically that it was all up with him,
and that he did not know where to turn for a ten-pound note.
He called himself a fool for declining Lord Southend's invita-
tion to go with him to Paris. Miss Sophia bitterly censured
Gertrude's extravagant mode of dressing the baby — " trimming
its cap with lace fit for a Crown Prince."

Gertrude replied that it was lace she had by her ; but Miss
Sophia sharply entreated that she would not begin a dispute :

122 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

and Augustus wondered how such a little mite of a child could
run away with so much money for clothes, taking up, as he
spoke, the one bill which Gertrude had incurred. All parties
seemed resolved to make her the scape-goat for all the blame.
Gertrude did not attempt to defend herself, but took advantage
of the first pause to steal away into the nursery.

As the door closed behind her, Mrs. Donnelly indulged in
some severe remarks upon her indifference to the welfare of the
family, and her selfish engrossment in her own affairs. Mr.
Augustus being in a very bad temper, felt a species of com-
placency when his mother declared that an ignorant, thought-
less wife had brought ruin upon many princely fortunes. " Tou
see now, my son, that I was right when I wished you to marry
well. I have hever reproached you for your mistake ; but you
feel now that your wife cannot support you with either money
or connexions, and is only a mill-stone round your neck in the
day of trouble."

Mr. Augustus did not contradict his mother ; he felt rather
soothed by hearing the blame of his embarrassed affairs laid
upon another. Perhaps he really believed that Gertrude was
the cause of them.

" Well, mother, it is too late going over that now — only don't
cry ; I can't bear to see you cry. Things will right themselves
somehow. I am not the only gentleman in the Metropolis who
has not made both ends meet in the course of the year. I dare
say there are scores of people who owe more than we do."

" Well, my dear," said Mrs. Donnelly, wiping her eyes, and
resuming her ordinary dignity and superioritj-, " it is weak to
go into the past ; though when I think of what we have been
accustomed to, and the prospect we might hope for if you had
married as became your family, I confess I feel chafed. But the

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 123

thing is now, to consider how we are to meet the most pressing
of these demands, and keep our embarrassment from the ears of
the world. If you can suggest anything, I shall feel no sacri-
fice on my part too great for the credit of my family. My own
wants are moderate — I could be content with a crust ; and now
that I have lost part of my income, I should be sorry to become
a burden to you."

"Don't talk in that way, mother," said Mr. Augustus,
pathetically ; " so long as I have a shilling, you and Sophia
shall have sixpence of it. I know how you have slaved your-
self to keep things decent since you came here ; and Gertrude
knows what she owes you for taking her by the hand and
receiving her as you did."

" I am sure she shows very little sense of it," interposed Miss
Sophia, spitefully.

" Hush, my dear. You are so full of feeling that you allow
yourself to be carried away. I only did my duty as a gentle-
woman and a Christian."

" But Gertrude has no feeling, except for herself," reiterated
Miss Sophia.

" I don't think she has much," acquiesced Augustus ; " she is
always in such good spirits."

" She piques herself upon her civility and good temper — the
two qualities by which people of her rank gain their bread,"
said Miss Sophia, scornfully. " Nothing but activity and civility
would be tolerated in the people of an inn."

Augustus winced a little at this, but said nothing. He leaned
back in his chair, and began to pare his nails.

After a little more abuse of Gertrude and a little more mutual
flattery, they began to feel their spirits revive under the blow
they had sustained. Miss Sophia got out her " tatting," and

124 THE SORROWS OF .GENTILITY.

Mrs. Donnelly rang to have the breakfast things cleared away.
Mr. Augustus yawned, and looked out of the window ; he did
not think it prudent to venture forth, for he more than suspected
there was a writ out against him. Mrs. Donnelly was busily
engaged writing and making calculations. For some time no
one spoke.

" Tou have a quarter's salary to draw, Augustus," said his
mother, looking up.

" Well, ma'am, what of that ? — it is'every farthing forestalled.
I owe Barrow, and dive, and Sir John Cornwall more than the
total will cover ; and I can tell you that I am not going to pay
a parcel of rascally, greedy tradesmen, whilst I owe money to
their betters."

" Certainly not," said Miss Sophia.

"Well, they are all persons from whom you can hope to
borrow again," said his mother ; " and it would be very short-
sighted policy to cut yourself out of good society. I think I
have hit upon a plan, however, that will help us out of our
difficulties."

" Pray let us hear it," said Augustus, sitting down before the
fire, and putting- a foot on each side of the grate, whilst he
balanced his chair backwai'ds.

" My idea is this," said Mrs. Donnelly : " our dear friend,
Lord Southend, has been so generous, that it would be encroach-
ing to ask him for further assistance ; and besides, it goes
against the spirit of the Donnellys to ask a favour. The
furniture of this house, which belongs to me, is not modern,
certainly ; but it is such as befits an old family like ours. It is
good and substantial," continued she, looking round with com-
placency at the chairs that stood against the wall. Lord
Southend would not refuse to lend you a few hundred pounds

THE SORROWS OF GEXTIUTY. 125

on this secm-ity; or we might make it over to him entirely, and
pay a small per centage for the use of it, reserving to ourselves,
of course, the right to redeem it. Some of the plate might be
deposited at his bankers', as an additional security, if he
required it ; though I confess it would chafe my spirit to see
our family plate in the hands of others."

" Well, that is not a bad notion," said Mr. Augustus ; " only
Lord Southend is not here."

" But Lady Southend is in town ; and if you were to send
Gertrude to her with a letter that I will write myself, she
would scarcely refuse to advance the few hundreds we require."

Miss Sophia passionately objected to a course which would
degrade them before the Southends, and prevent Lord Southend
from looking on them as equals.

" If you expect Lord Southend will ever make you an offer,
Sophy, the sooner you put the idea out of your head the better.
He has his hands, and his heart too, quite full, I can tell you ;
and I have often thought you put yourself a great deal too
forward to him."

Miss Sophia began vehemently to exculpate herself. When
she paused, Augustus continued as if she had not spoken. " So
you see, Sophy, it would be a pity to miss the good he may
really do us for the sake of a fancied advantage — it would be
the fable of the dog and the shadow."

Miss Sophia declared herself "scandalously insulted."

" Come, come, Sophy, dry up your tears ; we are in trouble
enough, without making more of it. I don't say but what
Southend might go further and fare worse ; but it is not
Gertrude's calling on the old lady about our difficulties that will
make any difference one way or other."

Miss Sophy suffered herself to be mollified. Mrs, Donnelly

126 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

exerted all her powers of diction to compose a letter becoming
the occasion. The old lady was very proud of her rhetoric, and
in the excitement of inditing her epistle, she quite forgot the
reality of her difficulties.

After a long exordium about the " combination of disastrous
fatalities " which had overtaken them, the loss of a portion of
her income, and the struggle of her pride, which she laid aside
for the sake of those depending upon her, — and an allusion to
" the young mother and infant child," which she intended to be
very pathetic, — she concluded as follows : —

" It is not a gift which I entreat, nor even a loan. Overtaken
by misfortune, I still retain the furniture which in happier times
garnished our ancestral hall, and some articles of massive silver
which have been handed down with our family traditions ; and
it is upon the security of these that I venture to entreat your
ladyship to permit your steward to advance us a few hundred
pounds, according to the value of the property, until I am
enabled to redeem all but my eternal gratitude, which I shall
transfer as a precious and sacred debt to my descendants.

" Madam,
"A grey-headed and anxious-hearted mother,
"I subscribe myself,
"Tour ladyship's humble servant,

"Honoria Marcia Sophia Donnelly."

( " By birth a Kavaneagh.")

" Well, mother, if that does not touch up the old lady, nothing
will. I call that fine writing. It is yourself who is a pride to
the family of the Donnelly s."

" And what does my Sophia say to her mother ? "

" 1 can only say, ma'am, that it is a letter which a captive

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 127

princess might hare written, and that you deserve to be allowed
to quarter a pelican upon your arms."

" You are too flattering-, dear children, and I fear you are only
laughing at your poor old mother. But, however, if it only
answers its purpose, I shall rejoice to have written the letter, —
but I can tell you that I have the spirit of a chained lioness,
and it goes against a Donnelly to ask a favour."

Mrs. Donnelly then went over every line of her letter,
stroking under the words that were most emphatic, beautifying
the penmanship, and bringing out every letter with distinctness,
and pointing every sentence according to the strictest rule of
punctuation.

This done, she folded it, and sealed it with an armorial seal
large enough to have been affixed to Magna Charta, and then
superscribed it with her ladyship's style and titles at full
length.

" And now, where is Gertrude ? Let her put on her bonnet,
and take this letter ; the sooner it is delivered the better." »

" I will go and fetch a coach for her," said Augustus.

" "What nonsense, my dear son, are you thinking of ? Ger-
trude must walk, even if we had money to spend in coach-hire ;
it would spoil all the effect of the letter if she arrived in
a coach."

"But it is a good distance to Southend House, and the
weather is cold. I think there will be snow before long."

" So much the more needful she should start at once. Perhaps
you had better tell her what she is to do."

" Poor Ger. ! I would walk with her if I were not afraid to
be seen."

Scarcely informed of the nature of her errand, Gertrude was
harried away on her mission to Lady Southend,

1-3 THE SOaEOWS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER XXII.

Toe some time after Gertrude's departure, Augustus stood at
the window to watch the sky, and to wonder whether Gertrude
would reach Lady Southend's before the snow came, for, to do
him justice, he felt that he would not have liked to turn out
himself on such an errand on such a day. Mrs. Donnelly lin-
gered over the copy of her letter, reading it again, and wonder-
ing what effect upon Lady Southend certain of the favourite
ancWmost florid passages would have.

" I hope," said she, " Gertrude will not mar all by her stu-
pidity. She has no tact ; she will allow herself to go into
details, and although there is nothing disgraceful in elegant
thrift and economy, yet one would not desire Lady Southend to
be cognisant of our domestic management. Herself the wife
and mother of peers of the realm, what should she know of the
difficulties of appearances, which nothing but an heroic sense
of social duty has nerved me to maintain."

<: Lady Southend is a great gossip," said Miss Sophia, " she
talks to Gertrude as though she were an equal ; and Gertrude
has no sense of the delicacy due to our feelings, she will allow
herself to be led away by an appearance of sympathy, and
Lord Southend will look upon us as no better than other people

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY. 129

who ask him for money. Beautiful as is your letter, ma'am, I
regret the step we have taken."

" Ah, my dear child, you are so sensitive. You ought to have
been born in the old days of the Donaellys. Money is all in all
with the world now. But I still hope to see the day when the
fortunes of the family will be restored, and when we may go
back to the old house and live amongst our own people. You
are fitted for any position, and I still expect to see you with
your coronet : you have the carriage and the presence of a
peeress, even in that morning dress. Let the consciousness ol
your own merits sustain you ; it ill becomes a Donnelly to lose
heart — rich or poor, it makes no difference to them."

" I am sure, ma'am, it is pleasant to hear you talk ; you
would inspire hope into any one. As you remark so justly, a
consciousness of what we are ought to support us under our
present difficulties. I shall wear my black velvet at Mrs.
Carnegie's to-day. I dare say there will be that Colonel
Donaldson from India — he and I had quite a flirtation at Mrs.
Ap Price's ; he is a dear, delightful old man, and with such a
fund of sarcastic humour ! "

" Yes, I am sure he was struck with my Sophia," said Mrs.
Donnelly.

Miss Sophia took out her work-box, and began to make
some bugle trimming with which to adorn her charms later in
the day. Mrs. Donnelly continued her inspection of papers.
Mr. Augustus yawned, stretched himself, and went through all
the evolutions of a man who is tired to death with doing no-
thing. Of all the things detrimental to domestic comfort, it is
when the master stays at home at unlawful hours without any
particular reason ; stopping out late at night is nothing to it
for disorganising a household.
10

130 THE SOKROWS OF GENTILITY.

" How cursedly cold it is ! " said he at last, seizing the poker
and making a smash at the fire, which covered the hearth with
cinders and raised a cloud of ashes.

" My dear Augustus," said Mrs. Donnelly in dismay, " you
have no respect for the price of coals; that fire, if left un-
touched, would have lasted until afternoon."

" Hang it, ma'am, what is the good of having a fire at all if
we are not to see a cheerful blaze. I hate the economy that
upsets all one's comfort ; if we are to be ruined, a scuttle-full
of coals will make little odds one way or other in the
amount."

Mr. Augustus rang the bell. It was answered by an untidy-
looking youth, who in the canonical hours of visiting bloomed
out into a chocolate-coloured coat and light blue plush breeches,
with an ample complement of buttons, all adorned with the
Donnelly " Wild Cat," but who during the antecedent period
wore an old shooting-coat that had once belonged to Mr.
Augustus, with face and hands that testified either to his own
abstinence, or to Mrs. Donnelly's economy in soap and water.

" Here, John, fetch a scuttle-full of coals, and, do you hear,
let them be large lumps — not dust, like so much sand ; and
whilst you are about it, bring a few sticks to make a blaze."

The servant looked at Mrs. Donnelly, but did not offer to
stir.

" What are you looking at ? Why don't you stir those lazy
legs of yours ? "

" If missis will give me the key. I can't get coals without."

Mrs. Donnelly quelled her annoyance by a great effort, and
handed a large rusty key, saying —

" You will get the coals your master desires, and be sure you
fasten the door securely afterwards ; a lady in the next street

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 131

was robbed of all her winter stock through the carelessness of
the servant."

The youth took the key with a malicious twinkle of satisfac-
tion in his eye, and departed. Mrs. Donnelly sat silent, but
evidently ill at ease ; at length she said —

" The lock of the coal-house door is peculiar, and I fear John
will either break it or leave it unlocked; besides, I like to
superintend the giving out of all household stores myself — it is
one of my principles."

Saying this, she put on her calash, and wrapping her old
black shawl about her, she descended into the lower regions to
see that John did not abuse his power of the key to carry any
of the round coals to comfort the kitchen, where, as there was
no dinner to cook they were " entirely unnecessary." John
carried up the coals, Mrs. Donnelly repossessed herself of her
key, and returned to the parlour just in time to see Mr.
Augustus building up what he called "a regular Christmas
fire."

" But, my dear Augustus, economy is needful to us just now,
— that fire might have done for the baronial hall in the days of
the prosperity of our family, but, now that we are compelled to
consider these things, the quantity you are now consuming
would have lasted us three days, with management."

" Hang management," said Mr. Augustus, with impatience ;
"I can but go to prison, and I would rather go for having
been comfortable than miserable. There ! I call that an elegant
fire."

Mrs. Donnelly was really suffering, and the effort to control
her temper was almost heroic ; — she only said, in a suppressed
voice, —

" You had better ring for John to sweep up the hearth — a

10—3

132 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

blazing fire that would roast an ox does not compensate for an
untidy hearth ;- — we may have visitors."

" What a long time it takes Ger. to go and come back !
When shall we have dinner to-day ? "

" My dear Augustus, your sister and I dine at the Honour-
able Mrs. Carnegie's, and I confess that I did not calculate upon
your being at home, — it is so seldom you dine with your
family."

Mr. Augustus whistled, and with the tongs improved the
architecture of his fire ; at last, by an accidental kick, he upset
the fender (which lacked a foot) and all the fireirons fell down
with a crash.

" My dear Augustus, do have mercy upon my poor head — the
heat and this noise together quite overcome me. I must leave
the room."

" Oh dear, Augustus," said Miss Sophia, "you have filled the
room with smoke and dust — my trimmings are ruined; how
can you have so little consideration r "

" Confound the fender ! who was to know that it was so
crazy ? Why don't you have it mended ?"

He picked up the fireirons with a sulky air of injured inno-
ccthv, and besfan to walk the room with his hands in his
pockets.

" What horrid work it is stopping in the house in this way,
— it would make a fellow hang himself in a week. I wish
somebody would come."

Almost at his wish there was heard a blustering knock,
accompanied with a furious ring at the bell. Augustus went to
the window — a handsome drag with a spirited horse stood at
the door. A high-coloured young man, with fair hair and a
rough coat, came hastily into the room, bringing with him a

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 133

stream of cold air. He bowed hastily to Miss Sophia without
looking at her, and said to Augustus, —

" I have not one moment to lose ; my mare will not stand

I want you to come along with me to 's, where we are

going to try Bob Clive's new terrier — he has taken heavy bets
upon him. I will tell you about it as we go along. Get your
hat — you will dine with us afterwards of course — but be quick.
I will give you two minutes, and if you are not to time I must
be off. No thank you, ma'am, I cannot sit down — that rascal
does not know how to hold her head — I must go myself. I
wish you good morning."

He left the room as hastily as he had entered it, leaving Miss
Sophia in a nutter that caused her to upset her bugles upon the
floor, for that unmannerly young man was Sir John Cornwall
and he was very rich and unmarried ; if report said true, he
also drank hard, kept low sporting company, and was in no
respect a reputable character, yet had the severely virtuous
Miss Sophia felt an ardent desire to detain him at her work-
table. Augustus put his head in at the door — his spirits quite
renovated — and said, " Give my love to Ger. when she come.3
back, and tell her there is no saying when I may be home, so
she need not expect me," and then, casting care to the wind, he
sprang into the drag after his friend, who gathered up the
reins and the mare set off in a style that seemed likely to break
their necks.

Mrs. Donnelly did not return to the parlour until Augustus
had left the house, and then her first act was to take off all
the coals, and reduce the fire below the second bar, after
which she proceeded up stairs to attire herself for the due re-
ception of callers, and then she and Miss Sophia took their
station in the drawing-room, A hackneys coach drove up to

134 THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY.

the door. Miss Sophia's ears caught the jingle of the
vehicle —

"Who can this be? Surely Gertrude has not committed the
extravagance of taking a coach."

She looked through the curtains and saw a middle-aged
woman, in a black bonnet and a great profusion of cap-border
and white satin ribbons round her face, sitting in the coach,
and looking anxiously up at the house. On the top of the
coach was a large hamper.

" "What can that strange-looking woman be wanting here ? "
said Miss Sophia.

A parleying was heard below, and shortly afterwards the
servant, now in his full-blown splendour of plush and buttons,
opened the drawing-room door, looking perplexed.

"If you please, ma'am, here is a decent body asking for
Mrs. Augustus — am I to ask her in, or shall I tell her to come
again. She is from the country, and seems all in a flutter, and
quite put out at not finding her."

" Good gracious ! I hope none of Gertrude's relatives ai'e
come to find her out. What is she like ? "

" Countrified, but quite respectable-looking — I somehow
think she is Mrs. Augustus Donnelly's mother."

" I will go and speak to her," said Mrs. Donnelly.

" It is quite unnecessary," said Miss Sophia. " How extremely
provoking that she should come just now, in the midst of our
troubles ; a vulgar person like her cannot of course understand
the difference between our embarrassments and those of com-
mon people. Is she come up to stop, I wonder ? "

" We must make the best of it, my dear. I will go and speak
to her."

Mrs. Donnelly proceeded to the hall, where poor Mrs. Morley

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 135

had been left standing on the mat, beside her large hamper.
Mrs. Donnelly prepared to address her with elaborate affability
— bnt at that instant a thundering footman's rap at the door
startled her out of her intention, and hastily desiring the ge-
neral maid-servant to " show that person up stairs into the nur-
sery," she had barely time to make good her own escape into
the drawing-room, to be there discovered by the Dowager Lady
Thomas Ap Price, in the apparent enjoyment of ease with
dignity.

136 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Believing from her husband's manner, and from the few
words that Mrs. Donnelly had condescended to drop, that some
dreadful crisis had occurred in their affairs, Gertrude did not
need much urging1 to despatch; she was, moreover, anxious to
get back to her nursery, which she sadly feared would be in-
vaded by Mrs. Donnelly in her absence.

The weather was very cold and thick, she did not know well
the road, and she went out of her way more than once, but at
length she stood before Southend House— frightened and out of
breath.

At first the porter hesitated to admit her, but a footman pass-
ing through the hall recognised her, and she was shown into a
small room until she had been announced. She was at length
ushered into her ladyship's dressing-room, where the old lady
was sitting beside the fire cleaning her diamonds. She looked
up as Gertrude entered —

" "Well, child, and what brings you out this day ? To wish
me a happy Christmas ? How is the baby ? and how are you ?
You look perished — there, sit down in that large chair by the
fire."

Gertrude — fatigued by her long walk, and frightened, though
she could scarcely have defined of what — began to cry.

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITT. 137

The old lady looked keenly at her, and then dropping some
lavender on a lump of sugar she made Gertrude take it, and
■when she was a little composed she said — " Come now, wipe
your eyes, I don't like crying people, and tell me what is the
matter. Is the baby dead ? "

" 0, no ! " said Gertrude, feeling relieved to think how much
worse things might have been ; " the baby is quite wrell — but I
am sent with this letter to your ladyship. I fear something is
very much amiss."

" Hum," said the old lady, stretching out her hand ; " give it
to me."

She took it, and after examining the ostentatious coat of
arms, proceeded to read the letter. When Gertrude saw how
scornful she looked, she was more frightened than ever.

" Pray do you know what this precious epistle is about ? "
said she, sternly.

" No, ma'am."

" And you know nothing about it ? "

" No, ma'am ; I believe there is some trouble at home, but
Mrs. Donnelly never . tells me anything, and Augustus always
goes by what his mother says. If there is any offence in that
letter, I am sure it does not come from Augustus."

" If there is any offence ! — it is just the most insolent, cringing,
impertinent piece of presumption I ever heard of in all my life.
To ask me to turn pawnbroker for Mrs. Donnelly ! "

Gertrude did not reply, and the old lady gradually grew
calmer.

" Now," said she, " tell me all that- has happened — all you
know of it at least. I feel sorry for you. You look simple and
innocent, and as if you could tell the truth."

Gertrude obeyed, and narrated the scene of the morning

138 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

and thence, scarcely knowing how it happened, she went on to
tell the old lady all her history, both before her marriage and
since — always, however, screening her husband. She did not
wish to complain of her mother-in-law, but naturally enough
the account of her was not -very flattering. When she ceased,
there was a pause of a few minutes, the old lady continuing to
look at her with her keen black eyes.

" Well," said she at length, " you have been a very foolish
child ; but as you will have that brought home to you by expe-
rience, you do not need to hear it said by me. You will have
to sup sorrow by spoonfuls, and what you have suffered is only
the beginning of plagues. Tou have paid dearly for wishing
to get out of your station. Write again to your mother, and
beg her to take you home for a while till these money matters
have found their level. She will not refuse, I will answer for
it, and that is the best advice I can give you. You are young
and healthy, and ought to begin to think of working for your-
self and your child. Let me hear what you can do to earn
money.

" I can do filagree work, and paint screens, and paint in japan
and on velvet ; and I can play a little," said poor Gertrude,
humbly.

" Hum !" said the old lady; " and is that all the education
they gave you to face the world with ? — did they teach you no-
thing else ? "

" Miss Le French taught us history and geography, and those
things."

" A pity she did not teach you the necessity of doing your
duty above all things. But we must make the best of what
you have. You can work tapestry, I suppose ? — Now I have
begun a carpet, and if you choose to help me, I will pay you.

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 139

If you wish to support yourself and child without being a tax
on your mother-in-law's generosity, I will supply you with
work. It may not be to-day or to-morrow you will choose to
do this ; but the day will come, and then apply to me. Go
back home, and tell Mrs. Donnelly that I do not choose to deal
in second-hand goods, nor to purchase old silver, and that she
had better apply to the pawnbroker. I desire you will repeat
my message exactly. Remember that I am quite ready to help
you when you desire to help yourself. Come to me or write to me
without fear. I shall not forget you. And now you had better
go home : you have been long enough away ; but I shall send
you home in a coach. You are not clothed for a day like this."

Gertrude would have declined, but Lady Southend was accus-
tomed to be despotic. She bade Gertrude hold her tongue, and
gave orders to fetch a coach : in the meantime, she made Ger-
trude drink a glass of wine, and continued her own occupation
" Ah, I dare say you think it would be a fine thing to go to
court and wear diamonds, and many a silly girl marries and
makes herself miserable for no better reason. If her husband
died, the diamonds would go away from her the next minute —
(these belong to my son) — and it is paying a heavy price for
the hire of them. Nobody would care for wearing them if they
went by the satisfaction they felt in it , but they think of the
value other people attach to them, and so live iu a reflected
vanity."

The coach was announced. As Gertrude rose to take leave,
Lady Southend put five guineas into her hand, saying, —

" This is a Christmas-box for your little girl."

Gertrude gratefully thanked the good-natured, whimsical old
lady, and withdrew, very puzzled what those who had sent her
would say to the result of her mission.

lft> THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITI.

CHAPTER XXIV

The dowager had departed, and Mrs. Donnelly was answering
a note that had been brought by Mrs. Cadogan's servant, when
Gertrude's hackney coach came to the door.

" Here is Gertrude at last ! " said Miss Sophia. " I am glad
that hackney coach, with its two crocodile horses, did not drive
up whilst Lady Ap Price's carriage was standing ; at this time
of day Gertrude should hare had the delicacy to alight before
she came to the door. I suppose Lady Southend has sent her
home; she would scarcely be so extravagant as to take one for
herself."

"Well, my dear Gertrude, and what said the Lady Southend?"
said Mrs. Donnelly, blandly, looking up from her note as Ger-
trude entered. Gertrude was surprised at the amiable tone and
the general aspect of affairs, so different from the querulous,
comfortless state of things she had left in the morning.

" Tou look fatigued, my dear ; sit down before you give the
account of your visit ; doubtless Lady Southend offered you
refection."

Mrs. Donnelly herself could scarely have accounted for her
good-humour, but the idea of being on the verge of deliverance
from her economical troubles put her into a pleasant frame of

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 141

mind, and she assumed a graceful attitude in which to receive
the blessings of Providence.

Gertrude, thankful to delay her message until the last mo-
ment, sat down at the end of the sofa, and waited to be ques-
tioned.

" Well ? " said Mrs. Donnelly, interrogatively.

"Lady Southend read the letter, ma'am, and said I was to
tell you that she could not agree to your request."

" Tell me exactly what she said," enjoined Mrs. Donnelly,
severely.

" She seemed angry, and said that I was to tell you it did
not suit her to deal in second-hand goods, nor to purchase old
silver, and that you had better apply to a pawnbroker."

If Gertrude had feared the result of this message she was not
disappointed ; it was like sending a bombshell into a sitting-
room in the midst of a family circle, or of dropping a spark
into a barrel of gunpowder, or any other experiment of a start-
ling and explosive nature. Mrs. Donnelly's eyes sparkled, and
her lips turned white with rage.

" It is well, it is very well ; and you sit there rejoicing in
your cool malignity. You are delighted to bring home a mes-
sage to your husband's mother which you think will humiliate
her ; but you little know the character of the woman you have
joined that heartless woman to insult ! "

" To think that we should have exposed ourselves to her aris-
tocratic insolence for nothing ! But it was always against my
judgment. Of course she judged of us by our messenger, or she
never could have sent such an ungentlewomanlike message,"
said Miss Sophia.

" You have strangely failed in the duty and respect you owe
to my position," resumed Mrs. Donnelly, with a catch of her

1'42 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

breath, " in venturing to repeat such gratuitous impertinence ;
but you, who despised yonr own parents, cannot be expected to
show more consideration to me. Much as I may regret the
events of this morning, which must for ever put an end to the
acquaintance between ourselves and Lady Southend, both she
and you are mistaken if you imagine that the refusal of a tem-
porary loan will either abate the pride or quell the spirit of
Honoria Donnelly. I feel myself superior to the paltry spite-
fulness of Lady Southend."

" I hope, ma'am, you will not be angry with me ; indeed I
could not help it," said poor Gertrude, in a tone of deprecation.

" To be angry with you would imply an equality, which can
never exist," said Mrs. Donnelly, loftily; you can retire. I
forgot to tell you that there is a person in the nursery — your-
mother, I fancy — who is waiting to see you ; she has been here
some time. Under present circumstances I do not wish to see
her ; but you will offer her whatever refreshment the house
affords. If she wishes for a glass of wine, you can come to me
for the keys."

Gertrude thought she could not have heard aright. She
turned sick, and clung to the back of the sofa for support. She
had barely strength to go up stairs. She tried to make haste ;
but her feet were as though they had been loaded with a
hundredweight of lead, and she stumbled at every step.

As she approached the nursery door, she heard a voice speak-
ing to the child. It seemed as though she could never get in,
for her hand trembled so convulsively that she could only make
an ineffectual effort to turn the handle. Some one opened it
from within — and Gertrude fell into her mother's arms.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 143

CHAPTER XXV.

Gertrude wept long and passionately upon her mother's
bosom ; the conflicting feelings of joy and sorrow and remorse,
all the pent up speech of years, were resumed into one chaotic
emotion of which tears were the only utterance.

Mrs. Morley, who herself was much affected by tbis first sight
of her daughter after so long a separation, began at length to
be alarmed. " Come, my dear child, don't take on in this way ;
What is it that's ailing you ? See, you are frightening baby,
who cannot tell what to make of it all."

" 0 mother ! " sobbed poor Gertrude ; " how ungrateful you
must have thought me. The sight of you makes me feel how
ill I have behaved to you ; I shall never forgive myself. I was
beginning to think you had turned me off, as you never took
any notice of my letter ; and now I almost wish you had — the
eight of you hurts me so."

" I would like to see the person who dared to say you had
behaved ill," said Mrs. Morley, indignantly. " You were always
the best, and kindest, and most industrious creature in the
world ; and if you did run away to be married, it is only what
many a girl has done before, and will do after you — God help
them ! — so don't let that lie on your mind. I would have come

144 THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY.

to you long since, only your father was contrary and would not
let me; and you have found out by this time that a husband is
a master when he once takes a thing into his head. As to your
letter, I only got it a fortnig-ht ago, on account that Mrs.
Slocum forgot it in her trouble. I read it to your father, and
Mrs. Slocum talked to him, and the minister called, and I got
him to speak. But at first your father would hear no reason,
and he swore at Mrs. Slocum for a meddling old fool, and he
even spoke rough to the minister, and they had to give it up.
Tour father is a hard man, but he does not want for goodness ;
and after a bit, it came out tbat you had not mentioned him in
your letter, except just once at the end, and he felt hurt you did
not think him worth speaking of. So then I talked to him and
coaxed him, and when he saw how I took on, and was fretting
after you, he softened, and told me I might come up to London
to see you, and that I might bring you back with me if I liked ;
and when he did come round, nothing could be more condescend-
ing than he was. He knew that I had never travelled alone,
so he spoke to ' Fat Sam,' who drives the ' Dart,' to take care
of me, and see me safe here. This is his off day, and he would
have brought me to the house himself; but I thought he might
not just be the person to introduce amongst your grand people,
for though he has a kind heart, he is a rough one to look
at "

Gertrude interrupted the torrent of her mother's discourse,
to ask how long- she had been there, and whether any refresh-
ment had been offered to her.

" Oh, I never once thought of refreshment ! I thought I
should have dropped when they told me you were out ; but I
asked to see the baby, and told who I was. The footman who
opened the door seemed afraid to let me in ; but however he did,

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 145

and I waited on the mat whilst he went into the parlour, and he
came back followed by an old lady, as high as a duchess in her
manners. I told her I was your mother, and said I had come to
see you. She looked at me as if I were the dirt under her feet,
and at last said that you were gone out, but that if I chose to gc
into the nursery I might wait there till you came back, though
she could not say how long that might be. As I said I would
wait, she bid the housemaid show me the way, and walked off.
leaving me standing there. I might have been come to see one
of the servants by the way she spoke. But I was too thankful
to be so near seeing you to feel offended. Who is she ? Does
she live here ? The man called her his ' mistress.' "

" It was old Mrs. Donnelly, my husband's mother. She is
very haughty in her manners. I wish I had been at home."

" Oh, I don't care for her, not I ; though she is the first,
calling' herself a lady, who ever showed any pride to me, and I
have had to speak to some of the best ladies in the land."

" But," said Gertrude, anxious to turn the conversation, " it is
a long time since breakfast ; let me get you something to eat."

" Ah, well, I don't care if you do get me a glass of wine and
a mouthful of sandwich ; but don't let me give any trouble. I
brought up a basket of ' Christmasing ' with me, just a turkey
of my own rearing, and a pork pie, and one or two little things.
I left it down in the hall. Some carriage company came to the
door, and the old lady walked away so sharply that I had no
time to tel her what it was. But," continued she, as Gertrude
was leaving the room, " why should you go ? Can you not ring
the bell ? I thought that was one of the comforts of living in
a private house. I don't like to see you run up and down to
wait on me. I can dojwithout anything quite well till dinner-
time."

11

146 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

Her mother's patience and self-forgetfulness struck Gertrude
with more remorse than any reproaches could have done.

"Oh, mother! Don't speak so kindly to me; I cannot
bear it."

" Bless thee, child ! How wouldsfc thou have me speak ? I
never felt so happy in all my life."

Gertrude went in search of some refreshment for her mother.
It was a more than usually barren search ; for, on the strength
of an evening party at the Honourable Mrs. Carnegie's, Mrs.
Donnelly had refrained from ordering a regular dinner, and
there was little in the larder. However, by the aid of some of
the good things in the hamper, she succeeded in making up
a tolerable luncheon, though it was a very meagre substitute
for the " Christmas dinner " which Mrs. Morley was in the
habit of considering as much a test of orthodox Christianity as
salt fish and eggs on Good Friday.

In the meanwhile Mrs. Donnelly had propitiated her own
wounded susceptibilities by uttering her opinion very emphatic-
ally of Lady Southend's behaviour, and lamenting her own
mistake in entrusting so delicate an embassy to Gertrude, to
which, on reflection, she was inclined to attribute the failure of
her scheme. Somewhat soothed by this idea, and the filial
unction of Miss Sophia's sympathy, she gradually subsided into
a tolerably comfortable frame of mind. When the hour of
dressing arrived she was sufficiently recovered to array herself
and her anxieties in her black velvet gown (her robe of state) ;
she also put on a turban with a splendid Bird of Paradise, and
postponed all further consideration of ways and means until
the next day ; so that when Lady Elrington s carriage called to
take them to Mrs. Carnegie's, a stranger would have been much
more likely to think she was a Queen Dowager than a lady

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 147

deep in difficulties. Of course she did not deem it necessary to
see Mrs. Morley befoi'e her departure. She would just as soon
have paid a visit to one who had come to see her servant ; and
indeed, as she had no hopes that Mrs. Morley would lend her
money, she considered her coming at all as a troublesome
liberty.

11—2

148

THE SORROWS OP GEXTILITf.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Whilst these events were going on at home, Mr. Augustus
was rapidly drawing towards the close of his good luck abroad.

He had managed to bet heavily on the wrong dog, and the
conclusion of the match found him a loser to a good amount.

As the party were going off to dinner, a dirty scrap of paper
was thrust into his hand, bidding him look to himself, as the
bailiffs were on the watch to arrest him outside the door. Mr.
Augustus made his escape through a window, and going
through back streets and by-ways, reached his own door in
safety.

A loud peal at the door-bell startled Mrs. Morley and
Gertrude, as they sat by the glimmering light of the nursery
fire, and immediately afterwards the voice of Augustus was
heard calling impatiently from below.

" What can have happened ? " said Gertrude. " Something
must be very wrong to bring Augustus home at this time."

" Bless the man ! he will awaken the baby," said Mrs.
Morley.

" Go, go, and see what is the matter. Tour father can never
bear to be kept waiting ; he will call the house down if nobody
goes."

THE SORROWS OF GE3XIL1TT. 1-49

Gertrude went down stairs as quickly as she could, with
trembling limbs. There was no light in the hall ; but she
found her way in the dark to the dining-room, the door of
which was open.

There she found her husband thrown back in a large chair
beside the fire-place, with his head sunk upon his bosom. The
fire was extinct, and the cinders were strewn about the hearth.

A single dip-candle stood on the table, with a long unsnuffed
wick, and a thief on one side was guttering it away. He looked
up as she entered.

" Tou have been a long while coming. What were you
doing ? — and where's my mother and Sophy ? "

"Oh, Augustus!" said Gertrude, quite frightened at hia
sombre looks and disordered dress. "What is the matter? are
you ill ? What has brought you home ? "

" Oh, nothing ; don't bother," said he, roughly shaking off
her hand. " Why do you look at me in that way ? "

"Because I am frightened; you look so strange."

" It is no wonder. I am not drunk, as you seem to think ;
but it is all up with me. I owe more money than I can ever
pay ; and I shall go off to France to-night, or else I shall be
inside a prison to-morrow. I wish my mother were here. Why
did she go out when she knew how things were ? "

Gertrude shut the door, and then returning to her husband,
she said, " Augustus, if you are ruined, tell me. I have as much
right to hear about it as your mother. I am your wife, at any
rate ; and perhaps I can do more to help you than you fancy."

"What can you do?" he replied. "I suppose you did not
bring a pocketful of bank-notes from the old lady this morning ;
and if you did, it is not a few that would help me,"

Gertrude shook her head.

150 THE SOEEOW8 OF GENTILITY.

" Ah, I never expected you would get anything'," said he.
" I'll forgive her not doing anything if only she does not set
her son against me."

" If you could only persuade these people to wait a little, I
could work and earn money to keep myself and the baby ; and
then, perhaps, Lord Southend would be back, and he would
advise you what to do."

" My poor Ger. ! What good would your work do ? But you
are a good girl ; and it is thinking what will become of you
that makes me so low. I can rough it for myself; but what
will you do ? — for I must off away from this."

" Oh, don't think about me," said Gertrude. " I shall do very
well. My mother came to see me to-day ; my father is quite
reconciled. Won't you come upstairs and see her. I am sure
she will advise us for the best. My father always goes by what
she says."

Poor Gertrude knew nothing of affaira ; but she felt a pride
in putting her mother into the seat of Mrs. Donnelly.

Reckless and thoughtless as Augustus was, he felt a twinge
of shame at being introduced to his wife's mother under such
circumstances.

Gertrude did not perceive his hesitation, she was trimming
the candle.

" Remember, you must tread very softly, for baby is asleep.
What a long time it is since you saw her in her little cot. She
looks a perfect angel!"

The introduction between Augustus and his mother pro-
duced a mutually favourable impression, for he was ex-
tremely good-looking, and had a gentlemanly address. When
he embraced Mrs. Morley and called her " Mother," all
her latent prejudices against him were dispersed at once,

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 151

and Gertrude stood completely absolved for running away
with him.

After a few moments, Gertrude reminded her husband that he
had come to consult her mother. Gertrude's notions of "being
ruined " were extremely vague and picturesque ; moreover, she
felt a glow of pride in the idea that she and her mother were
going to advise Augustus all to themselves, and without Mrs.
Donnelly ; so she may be pardoned if she did not feel nearby so
miserable as circumstances seemed to require.

As to Mr. Augustus, he would rather have been excused
entering into details ; but there was no help for it. He there-
fore gave Mrs. Morley and his wife a rhetorical account of his
affairs, making them look not like vulgar debts, but gentlemanly
embarrassments, which would disappear, and even become
eventually sources of prosperity. He succeeded in talking him-
self into good spirits ; and as Mrs. Morley promised that
Gertrude and the baby should never want a comfortable home,
his most legitimate source of anxiety was removed.

With all her prepossession in favour of her son-in-law, Mrs.
Morley was glad that he purposed borrowing from somebody
else, and not from her ; and she now used her influence to get
him safely off.

Mr. Augustus again embraced his mother-in-law, and declared
she had given him new life in promising to take care of his
adored Gertrude ; that so long as she was sheltered he did not
for himself heed the " frowns of fortune."

He declared to Gertrude, as she was packing a carpet-bag,
that her mother " was the most sensible woman he had ever
known." Gertrude, who had of late been kept on a very short
allowance of kind words, felt happy in spite of herself, and the
excitement of packing up kept her from realising that Augustus

152 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

was going1 to leave her. Bat when the carpet-bag1 was closed,
and Augustus equipped in a rough pilot coat stood ready to
depart, her tears began to fall apace.

" 0 take nae with you, dear Augustus ! I don't care what
becomes of me if I may be with you."

" Impossible, my dear girl," said he, disengaging her arms
from his neck. " You shall come to me the first moment I can
receive you. But you must not send me away crying ; for if
you cry I must keep you company. Come, give me one more
kiss ; I have not a moment to lose."

Gertrude tried to slide Lady Southend's present into his
waistcoat pocket ; but he put it back, and would only take two
guineas, as he said, for " good luck."

Mrs. Morley, who had been fumbling in her pocket-book, now
brought out a five-pound note, which she stuffed into his hand,
disguising her feelings at the same time by saying sharply :

" Now, Gertrude, do not hinder him one miirate longer, I
desire ; there is no time to lose."

Mr. Augustus, glad to end the scene, which had become
uncomfortably tender, hastily kissed his wife, and pulling his
hat over his eyes, shouldered his carpet-beg, and made his exit
the back way. Thanks to the dense fog, he escaped the men
who were watching for him at the corner of the house, and
reached the packet in safety, which landed him at Boulogne,
where he had leisure to await any new stroke of fortune which
might be in store for him.

Mrs. Morley allowed Gertrude to have her "cry" out after
the door had closed upon her husband, and then she undressed
her and put her to bed, as she used to do in years long past ;
and many may think this exchange of a husband for a mother
was in Gertrude's favour. However that may be, Gertrude,

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 153

exhausted with all the fatigues and emotions of this eventful
Christmas-clay, soon fell into a deep sleep, which even the return
of Mrs. Donnelly and Sophia did not disturb.

Great was the astonishment of those two ladies when they
heard what had occurred during their absence. Mrs. Morley
waited upon Mrs. Donnelly and gave her the history of her
son's flight. If anything could have added to that lady's dismay
at the step Augustus had taken, it would have been to find that
a stranger had been made aware of the family difficulties ; and
that a stranger, a common plebeian woman like Mrs. Morley,
should actually have assisted at the crisis ; whilst she, his lawful
mother, was absent and unconsulted ! It was indeed a touch of
Nemesis that amply avenged Gertrude for all the insults which
had been poured out upon herself and her connexions. Mrs-
Donnelly attempted to carry matters off in her usual lofty style,
but Mrs. Morley did not care for her, nor was she in the least
impressed by her magnificent pretensions. She had been
nettled by Mrs. Donnelly's manner to her in the morning, and
she was not sorry to have an opportunity of " speaking her
mind candidly," which always means abusing one's neighbour
by telling those truths which, for the sake of peace, Truth
generally keeps at the bottom of her well, far out of the reach
of politeness to fish up, however well inclined. The end of it
was, that Mrs. Morley declared her intention of taking away
her daughter the very next morning, " and never to darken
Mrs. Donnelly's doors again."

15-& THE SORROWS OF GEXT1LITY.

CHAPTER XXVII.

The next morning Mrs. Morley was up betimes. Gertrude
still slept : she was exhausted by all the emotions of the pre-
vious day, but even in her sleep she felt the blessed sense of
relief and repose that her mother's presence had brought.

Mrs. Morley was meanwhile on the alert, busily employed in
looking out Gertrude's effects and packing them up, for they
were to go by the " Dart" at ten o'clock, under the auspices of
'• Fat Sam."

"When Mrs. Morley left home she had some floating ideas of
being on a visit for a day or two, and of being taken to see
some of the London sights by Gertrude and her husband, for
this was her first time of coming to London. All these ideas
had, however, been speedily dissipated by the first aspect of the
reality of things ; now her one great desire was to take Ger-
trude and the baby back with her as soon as possible, and never
to let either of them go away from her as long as she lived.
She sighed bitterly at the sight presented by Gertrude's ward-
robe ; all her uuder-garments had been worn and mended and
darned till they were very curiosities of thrift and penury ; there
were expensive articles of finery — fine head-dresses, fine bon-
nets, one or two expensive shawls, several silk dresses, some
evening dresses, and much that the worthy woman considered

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 155

as trash and trumpery, but not one single warm, comfortable
winter cloak or dress.

The fact was, that Gertrude had always felt an invincible
dislike to ask her husband for money, whilst Mr. Augustus had
an insuperable dislike to parting with it for any legitimate and
regular expenses ; he was not stingy, for he could not keep a
guinea in his pocket, but he nevertheless always liked " to have
ready money about him," and what between the occasional re-
payment of the sums he borrowed and the sums he messed
away in idle expenses, it was difficult for Gertrude to obtain
enough to meet her household expenditure. A regular allow-
ance for herself was of course not to be thought of, and when
she was forced to abdicate in favour of Mrs. Donnelly, her con-
trol over money ceased altogether.

Augustus from time to time bought her extravagant and use-
less presents, but of all personal comforts she was left more
destitute than the wife of a working man. In the solitude of
her nursery she was free to darn and to mend in peace ; but
there was no one to give her the means of buying the com-
monest necessaries for herself.

Mrs. Morley sighed as she regarded these evidences of her
daughter's thrift, and resolved she should never have occasion
to see them more.

When the packing was all done, Mrs. Morley proceeded to
see after breakfast. The insight she obtained into the house-
keeping arrangements of Mrs. Donnelly shocked her comfort-
able soul, and the idea of the privations to which Gertrude had
been subjected hurt her much. But she should never come
back " to be trampled under the feet of their poverty-stricken,
poor, mean, pitiful Irish pride ! Oh, if I had only guessed how
things were going on, I would have gone down on my knees to

156 THE SORROWS OF GEXTILITY.

have persuaded her father to have her away from them before
now ! Simon is a hard man, bat he would not starve a dog ;
and he will feel badly enough when he hears that a child of his
has been put upon by beggarly Irish quality, as they call them-
selves ; but quality is quality everywhere, and I know it when
I see it, which is not here ! "

Mrs. Morley was blowing the kitchen fire vigorously during
this- soliloquy ; the <: coals for the day" had not been given out,
and it was a difficult task to coax the remnants of the half-
burned cinders to a blaze. The kettle at length boiled, and
Mrs. Morley — finding no tea, and the tea-caddy of course her-
metically closed — sent out the footman to buy a quarter of a
pound of the best hyson and some loaf sugar, stimulating him
with the promise of " something " for himself when he came
back.

Mrs. Morley looked like an impersonation of the Goddess of
Plenty in the realms of Famine, and the maid-servant who was
called the "cook" — which seemed a piece of practical irony —
iooked on with admiring eyes, saying from time to time, by
way of averting from herself all the evil that might result —

" I don't know what the old lady will say to all this ! "

" Never mind the old lady just now, my good, girl, she will
lay no blame on you ; see if that fire will toast a round of bread
■ — I think it will Where is that hamper I brought yesterday ?
Has it been unpacked ? "

" It is just, for a wonder, where Mrs. Augustus left it. The
old lady does not know of it yet, or it would not be much you
could find."

This was not precisely true — the cook and the footman had
ventured to take tithe of some of the good things that came
readily to hand ; but Mrs. Morley did not disturb herself about

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 157

that, she took out the home-cured ham, and fried several slices
— boiled a few of the new laid egg's — and, in short, prepared a
breakfast on a scale of sumptuousness that had never been seen
in that kitchen, at least not during the present dynasty. She
made the tea, and then told the cook she was welcome to the
rest and to the remaining white sugar ; desiring her to carry
the breakfast upstairs to the nursery, she proceeded to restore
order to the rifled hamper, and desired that Mrs. Donnelly
might be told, with her compliments, that it was a basket of
Chrisfcmasing she had brought with her out of the country.

Mrs. Morley felt an emotion of pride at the thought that
Mrs. Donnelly would see one of her turkeys and one of her pork
pies, and learn that such things were not luxuries where Ger-
trude came from ; yet she would have disclaimed with scorn the
idea of attaching the least importance as to what Mrs. Donnelly
might think. But, if it were possible to keep a record of our
fugitive emotions of vanity, we should be more heartily ashamed
than we have the grace to be of our deadly sins — none of us
could plead guilty to them, we should indict the recording angel
himself for making false entries !

Mrs. Morley stood beside her daughter's bed with the break-
fast she had prepared. Gertrude opened her eyes, and felt like
one still dreaming ; —

" Is that really you, mother ? How long have you been
there?"

" Yes, it is really myself — bless thee, child ! it seems so na-
tural to have you again, I cannot believe I have lost you for so
long ! But come, rouse up, and eat some breakfast, we have
little time enough to turn ourselves in — you must dress as sharp
as you can. There ! is it good ? that is home fare once more ! "

" But, mother, what have you had ? It is a shame for me to

158 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

lie here, and you to wait upon me after all your long journey,
and no rest for you yesterday."

" Never fear for me, I will take care of myself, I warrant
you — do not hurry over your breakfast, but when you have
done, dress yourself, and by that time we shall be all ready to
start. That nurse of yours seems a good willing girl enough,
but, gracious me ! she takes as long to dress and set herself out
as if she was going to court — she cannot leave loose of a thing
when she has once taken it up — it seems to stick to her fingers.
I must go and hurry her : I shall come back to see if you want
anything."

Mrs. Morley bustled out of the room, and partly by dint of
example and partly by doing nearly everything herself, the
breakfast was despatched, the baby was dressed, and the nurse
was ready in a wonderfully short space of time.

" Now, Gertrude, whilst that footman runs for a coach, you
had best go in and say ' Good bye ' to the old lady. I hope it
will be many a long day before you say ' How do you do ' to
her. I shall not see her again ; she does not want to see me,
and I am sure I don't want to see her — there's little love lost
between us. If I were to be proud, I would wait until I had
some money to keep it up on if I were in her place — poor pride
is worse than poor spite. She calls herself a lady, and looks
down on you, but she has nothing of a lady about her except
the fancy."

Mrs. Donnelly had not yet rung her bell, but Gertrude con-
sidered that she could not well depart without taking leave of
her husband's mother, and determined to run the risk of dis-
turbing her slumbers. She wished to part from Mrs. Donnelly
on friendly terms, and the scene with Mrs. Morley on the pre-
ceding night had sorely ruffled Mrs. Donnelly's susceptibility.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 159

She softly opened the bed-room door ; the dim light of a
December morning very faintly lighted the room, which was in
great disorder with the evening's finery and the morning
shabbiness littered about in all directions.

" "Who is there ? " asked Mrs. Donnelly, querulously.

" It is I," said Gertrude, gently ; " I am come to say good
bye before we start."

" To start ? Why, where are you going now ? "

" Home," replied Gertrude ; father gave my mother leave to
bring me back with her, and Augustus said he was glad for me
to go there."

"Oh, very well — then of course I can say nothing; it was
settled without reference to me, and it is natural you should
wish to be out of our family adversity. I do not blame you. I
am glad there is a refuge for you and the baby — it will be one
anxiety off my mind. Good bye, Gertrude, and I wish you well ;
your behaviour to me has ever been what it ought to be. I hope
I have always done my duty by you as my son's wife, when
your own people cast you off. Never forget you are a Donnelly,
and you may always feel assured that you have a friend in me,
and when I have a home to offer you shall be welcome."

The old lady's voice came tremulous and quavering through
the folds of hej; ample night-cap, and when Gertrude stooped to
kiss her she felt quite softened towards her, she looked so ill
and miserable, with her eyes swelled up with weeping. For one
moment Gertrude had the passing idea to offer and stay with
her, if she could be of any comfort ; but at that juncture Miss
Sophia roused herself to appear conscious of what was passing,
and said in a sharp tone —

" Oh dear, if you are going, do set off; you have left the door
open, and there is a draught to freeze one comiDg in."

ICO THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

" God bless you, Gertrude," said the old lady. " I will let
you know what becomes of us ; you can -write and tell me how
you get home. My arrangements to leave this house will not
be completed for some days to come. Good bye; kiss your
baby for me."

" Good bye, Sophia."

" Good bye, Gertrude. I wish you a good journey."
And so Gertrude parted from her husband's family.
She found her mother waiting impatiently for her — the
coach was at the door, and all the luggage on the roof. Her
mother astonished both the cook and the footman with a
Christmas-bos so liberal, that the cook put the corner of her
apron to her eyes in token of sorrow for the departure of her
young mistress, whilst the man showed his gratitude by banging
the coach door with enthusiasm, and desiring the man to drive
as if he had the Queen and her mother inside !
They reached the coach-office in good time.
" Fat Sam," the coachman, had become extremely uneasy at
Mrs. Morley's absence. She had been committed to his care,
and he was responsible for her safety. He was just about to
dispatch a messenger to know if anything had gone wrong.

" Fat Sam " was a specimen of the prize stage-coachman of
former times. He was certainly very vulgar and very burly j
but he was a rough honest-hearted man, full of kindness and
good feeling. In his younger days he had been an ardent
admirer of Mrs. Morley, and no second object had ever effaced
his early love. He took to the road to get over his disappoint-
ment, and he still reverenced Mrs. Morley with a loyalty and
devotion that any woman might have been proud to inspire.

As the clever and prosperous mistress of the " Metringham
Arms," she had won his respect, and he looked up to her with

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY. 161

little less reverence than he would have felt for the Queen
herself. " Fat Sam " came to the door himself to let them out
of the hackney coach.

" Here we are, Sam ! " said Mrs. Morley, shaking hands with
him, which pleased Sam mightily, because it was in sight of the
whole coach-office, and of the guard and coachman of the Bristol
mail, just then on the point of starting.

"You remember Sam, do you not?" said Mrs. Morley, turn-
ing to Gertrude, with a certain timidity, for she feared Gertrude
would be shocked at his familiarity, whilst she was anxious that
Sam's feelings should not be hurt.

" To be sure I do," replied Gertrude, recollecting with com-
punction the airs of impertinence in which she had indulged
herself towards Sam in former times, when she was home for
the holidays ; " I am very glad to see you again," and she shook
hands with him with a frank friendliness that enchanted him.
He had always thought her a very fine young lady, but now
she seemed to him like her mother.

There was no time, however, for conversation ; he hurried
them into his coach — saw to their luggage — heaped upon them
all the coats and rugs he could find, till there was some danger
of their being stifled, and then he mounted the box — touched
his horses — and at the cry of "all right " they dashed forward
on the road Home.

19

162 TEE SOESOTVS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

The coacli drove merrily along ; it -was a fine, clear, frosty
day, the very ideal of Christmas weather, when they had once
got clear out of the fog and smoke of London.

Gertrude's spirits rose with every mile. Whenever the coach
changed horses, or " pulled up " for a moment, the red good-
humoured face of " Fat Sam," shining from the midst of
surrounding capes and shawls, appeared at the windows, to see
if " Mrs. Morley, or young Madam," wanted anything. Those
were the good old time3 of stage-coach travelling, when the
pleasure and convenience of the passengers were more regarded
than the " time " at which the coach professed to be due ; and
when an hour more or less was nothing, provided the passengers
made it agreeable to themselves. As Mrs. Morley and her party
were the only " insides," they, of course, had it all their own
way.

The baby bore the journey beautifully, and delighted its
grandmother by crowing and clapping its hands at the horses,
and laughing in " Fat Sam's " beaming face when he laughed
and chuckled to it.

Towards five o'clock this happy glow cf spirits subsided.
Mr3. Morley began seriously to speculate upon the probable
reception she should meet with from her husband, who might,
very likely, be angry at the liberal interpretation she had given

TUB SOBEOWS OS GENTILITY. 163

to his gruff consent to see Gertrude again. It was quite certain
he did not contemplate taking her back for that indefinite period
" until her husband should be in a position to receive her."
Gertrude, on her part, was naturally very anxious and uneasy ;
she was in low spirits about Augustus; and as the journey drew
to a close she felt a great sinking of heart at the prospect of
meeting her father. .She would thankfully have protracted the
journey, if not for ever, at least for a long* time. The baby and
tho nurse both slept in happy- indifference; it was not their
business to know whither they were going.

At length the coach stopped at the end of a lane that branched
off from the main road. A covered cart drawn up by the road
side could be distinctly discerned by the coach-lamps, and the
dull gleam of a large horn lantern suspended to the shafts.

" Have you Mrs. Morley inside ?" shouted a rough voice, in a
strong country accent.

Mrs. Morley let down the coach window, and looked out
through the darkness. " Well, I had no notion we were so near
home. Is that you, Bill Stringer ? How is your master ?"

A stout countrified man, in a smock-frock and a wagoner's
hat, came forward on hearing her voice.

" Yes, ma'am, I'm here. Master is quite well, thanks to you;
he said he did not know whether so be you would come for sure
to-night, but that leastwise I was to come to meet the coach."

" Fat Sam " did not disdain to lend his own imperial
assistance to get the luggage transferred into the cart, and he
reverentially assisted Mrs. Morley to alight.

The keen air woke up the baby, which began to cry, and
they all felt that bewildered uncomfortable chill sensation which
coming off a night journey always brings with it.

At length they were all safely deposited inside the. cart, which

12—3

loM THE SORROWS OF GEXT1LITT.

wa9 furnished with a bench on each side, covered with well-
stuffed feather cushions, and the boxes were piled as they might,
either amongst the clean straw at the bottom, or on the seat,
till Bill Stringer could scarcely recover his place.

" We are all right now, Sam," said Mrs. Morley. " Good
night, and thank you kindly."

" Good night, ma'am ; you'll remember me to Mr. Morley,
and tell him I should be proud to see him again ; the old place
does not look right without you both."

The horses obeyed Sam's well-known signal, and set off at
full gallop ; the sound of the wheels ringing upon the smooth
frost-bound road was heard for some distance. At length, the
driver having scrambled to his seat, the cart plunged with a
jerk down the dark rough lane, which had never known any
other repairs than from the frost in winter and the sun in
summer. There were a few stars visible, but no moon ; and
the lantern that dangled in front of the cart cast grotesque
goblin-like shadows upon the black bare hedges and embank-
ment.

"Where are we going, mother?" said Gertrude; "this had
not used to be the way to the ' Metringham Arms.' "

" And it is not now, child. I did not tell you before, because
I wanted to surprise you a bit. We have left the old place,
and live now quite at our ease; you will have nothing to put
you about now. Ah! if you had only stopped at home all
would have come right, you would not have had to stop long in
the bar ; but, as I always told your father, we had no business
ever to have put you there. Your brother and his wife have
the old place now."

The cart jolted along over the rough iron-bound ground for
some time, longer, and then entered a gate which seemed to

THE SORROWS OF GEMTILITY. 165

open into an avenue, for it was planted on both sides, and the
ground was very smooth and in good repair.

" This is the foredrift that leads to our cottage," said Mrs.
Morley ; " it is very pretty in the summer, and keeps us quite
private."

At the end of about a quarter of a mile the cart stopped be-
fore the porch of a house standing in a farm-yard. A dog
came out barking with delight, and jumping up round the
horse ; a buxom comely woman appeared at the door shielding
a candle with her apron ; over her shoulder was seen the portly
figure of Simon Morley. Gertrude turned sick with agitation
as she heard her father's voice calling to the dog.

"Be quiet, 'Vick;' down, miss — kennel ! " And directly
afterwards he stood at the side of the cart to help her mother
down, who was the nearest. " Well, missis, and so you are
come back ! Who else have you there ? "

" Hush ! " whispered she, " it is Gertrude ; speak kindly to
her, Simon, for my sake."

Scarcely able to stand, Gertrude was lifted down by her
father — he kissed her, and bid her go into the house and warm
herself.

" How many more have you got ?" said he, as the nurse and
baby next emerged into sight. " Who does this belong to ?"

" It is your own lawful grandchild, Simon Morley ; you could
not expect I should leave it behind."

" I never said you could, did I ? You women are so sharp
always. Walk forwards, young woman ; mind the step. There,
Stringer, never mind the boxes, I will see to them. Get the
horse out and rub it well down ; it will catch its death of cold
whilst you stand bungling here. Come, look sharp, will you ? "

Simon Morley hated everything like a manifestation of feel-

166

THE S0KE0W3 OF GENTILITY.

ing. He was glad to see his daughter again, but he was
ashamed to show it, and he felt awkward at not knowing what
to say to her ; so he made a great noise, and spoke roughly to
everybody that came in his way, and pretended to be very busy
bringing in the luggage.

Gertrude in the meantime had gone into the large red-tiled
kitchen, where a lire was blazing, before which a turkey was
roasting. The chimney-place, like those in most farm-houses,
was as large as a small room ; her father's arm-chair stood on
one side with a round table before it, with his tobacco-box, a
sporting newspaper, and a large tankard of ale ; a long oak
settle occupied the opposite side, and the walls of the recess
were hung with an array of shining kitchen utensils and bril-
liant copper pans.

At the end of the kitchen two farm-servants were eating their
supper at a large dresser that went along the whole side of the
wall. They looked very stupid, and did not seem to know
whether they ought to go on eating or to rise to give their
assistance. After a moment's awkward wondering look to-
wards the door, they finished their bowls of bread and milk, and
then proceeded to attack an enormous cheese which stood be-
fore them, flanked by an equally large brown loaf.

Gertrude gazed round as in a dream ; she did not know
where she was, nor how she had come there. She was at home,
but she saw nothing she had ever known before ; with the ex-
ception of the arm-chair, there was not a single object she
recognised. Mrs. Morley was upstairs, getting the best room
ready for Gertrude. The ploughmen, having finished their
supper, pulled off their shoes, and went up a staircase that was
at that end of the kitchen. As if he had waited for their ab-
sence, Simon Morley came in as soon as they were gone.

TUB SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 167

" Come, miss, don't hang down your head in that way ; let
us see what London manners are — give me a kiss — I am glad
to see you and the baby too. I'll look at it to-morrow when it
is not so tired. Here, wife, where are you. You had best go
and see what your mother is about, and take the baby with
you ; there, that will do, don't cry, that does no good ; I am
glad to see you, and there is an end of it."

Mrs. Morley came back at this juncture, and carried them
all off.

" You must not mind your father ; he is rough, but he means
well; it is only his way; don't seem frightened or distant, it
hurts him, and makes him think you don't care for him, and he
has a deal of feeling, though nobody would think it."

The good-looking servant-maid, bearing a naming pan of
coals to light the fire, put an end to all conversation, and the
baby beginning to cry violently, occupied all their attention
to get it fed and quieted, and put to bed.

When they returned to the kitchen, Simon Morley had re-
sumed his place in the chimney-corner, and was pursuing the
details of the grand coursing'-match in which he had been inter-
rupted, whilst the servant laid the table for supper. He looked
up from his paper when they entered, and made room for his
wife beside him.

" You see," said he, " I did not know for sure whether you
would come to-night, so I did not let them make a fire in the
parlour ; when you are away, I always feel more warm and
comfortable-like in the chimney-corner here. I suppose you
have not been much used to sitting in the kitchen since you
have been away. We are but countrified folks here, and you
must take us as you find us ; I would rather be easy than genteel
any day."

168 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

Gertrude, to whom the latter part of this speech was ad-
dressed, replied, —

" I have not seen any place, either kitchen or parlour, so
comfortable as this ; — any one might be glad to sit here."

Mrs. Morley watched eagerly every word that passed between
her husband and daughter. She felt so anxious for her hus-
band to be pleased with Gertrude, and equally anxious that
Gertrude should not be hurt by anything that fell from her
father. She had an instinct that they did not suit well together,
and that she was the combining element between them. Ger-
trude and her mother being both fatigued by their journey,
there was a good excuse for not sitting longer after supper than
to allow Simon Morley to take his " nightcap," as he called the
glass of steaming rum-and-water with a slice of lemon in it,
which he swallowed every night in the year, after supper, ex-
cept when it happened to consist of three glasses instead of one.
Mrs. Morley generally mixed it for him, and took a portion for
herself in a small old-fashioned glass goblet, engraved with her
initials on one side, and sundry masonic tokens on the other.
She pressed Gertrude to drink with her ; but Gertrude, who
disliked the taste of all beverages except pure water, declined.
Simon Morley gave a contemptuous grunt, and said, —

" I suppose genteel people don't drink such things."

It was not that he liked to see women " fond of their glass,"
as he phrased it, but in this case he set down Gertrude's absti-
nence as a piece of fastidiousness, learned amongst the fine folks
she had been with so long, and in those days, drinking water
only was not so common even in delicate women as it is now.
Gertrude coloured painfully.

" I never thought whether it were genteel or not, I only re-
fused because I do not like it."

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 169

" Come, Simon, this is ' Liberty-Hall ;' let people please them-
selves," said Mrs. Morley, coming to the rescue.

" With all my heart, replied her husband, sulkily, as he
knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and reared it against a
corner of the fire-place. " I want to force nobody's inclinations,
but I don't like to see affectation."

The secret of Simon Morley's dissatisfaction was that he
vaguely fancied Gertrude drank water in order that no one
might suspect her of coming out of an inn. He was not exactly
mistaken, for though it had long become a habit with her, yet
in the first instance it was a school-girl resolution, taken when
the ignominy of being an "innkeeper's daughter" was first
impressed upon her mind. It was hard upon Gertrude to have
the penalty of a false motive exacted so many years after date,
but nature never omits or forgets, or makes a mistake in
settling the accounts of causes and effects ; and every thought,
every action, however trifling, does in reality produce an effect,
though we may not be able to trace it nor to measure it. " The
finest hair casts a shadow."

Gertrude looked wretchedly fatigued, and Mrs. Morley rose
to see her to her own room.

" Oh, mother ! father has not forgiven me yet," said poor
Gertrude, mournfully, as soon as they were alone.

" You must not be cast down when your father speaks rough,"
said she ; " it is only his way, and h'e means no harm by it. He
was only sorry just now to see you so pale and poorly-looking ;
he cannot bear to see folks looking weakly, he always thinks it
comes of not eating and drinking enough ; you see he has lived
amongst rough and ready people all his life, and is not just as
considerate in his words as he might be, but he is a good man,
and has a kind heart too when you come to know him. So do

170 THE S0RH-T.V3 OF GEXTILITY.

speak up to him a little, for when you ai'e so dashed and so
silent, it makes him think you don't like him, and then that
hurts him."

Mrs. Morley kissed her daughter, and having given one more
look to the sleeping baby, she left her to her first night's restora-
tion to her father's house. But Gertrude felt she was a stranger
there, and that it was not the Home where she might have that
great charm of home — the feeling of liberty, and the repose of
being perfectly natural-

?IIE SOKEOWS OF GENTILITY. 171

CHAPTER XXIX.

In spite of Mrs. Morley's exhortations, Gertrude was afraid
of her father, and could not feel at her ease with him. When
she met him the next morning, she was stiff and constrained,
though she tried to be natural, and did her best to think of
things to talk to him about. As might be expected, she was
unsuccessful, and he not unnaturally set down her embarrassment
to conceit and " fantastic pride." Luckily breakfast was not
long about ; for Simon Morley had to go to a distant part of
the farm, and Mrs. Morley had plenty of business before her, to
make preparations to receive her son and his wife, who were
coming over from Dunnington to spend Sunday with them,
not having been able to come on Christmas-day. Simon Morley
had just got into his heavy great-coat, and was on the point of
starting, when the baby wa3 brought in by the nurse. Ger-
trude took it from her, and bringing it up to her father said : — ■
"Won't you look at her? She waa asleep last night, and you
could not see what she was like."

This would not have been a bad move, but the smart London
look of the nurse struck him with displeasure; however, he
took the child in his arms and kissed it ; the poor baby, unused
to such rough kissing and such a strange figure, began to cry,
which was unfortunate. The grandfather gave it impatiently

1-tZ THE SORROWS OF GEXTILITY.

back to the nurse with the observation that "It was very
marred," and then, without saying more, mounted his rough-
looking pony, and set off to inspect his farm.

Mrs. Morley was called off to the kitchen, where the sound
of the chopping-knife, and the beating up of egg's, mingled with
the dying screams of the murdered poultry; for Sunday was to
be a very grand festival, not only celebrating the visit of her
son and his wife, but also the restoration of her daughter to her
father's house.

Gertrude was very anxious to be allowed to assist her mother ;
but Mrs. Morley, who fancied that having forced her daughter
to assist her in the bar had been the one great fault and mistake
in her bringing up, and the cause of all the unhappiness and
estrangement that followed, was determined to profit by
experience, and now refused to allow her daughter to lay a
finger to anything, or to assist her in the smallest employment,
not even in paring apples or stoning raisins. She was either to
sit in the parlour and amuse herself, or else be upstairs with
baby in the "best room," which Mrs. Morely had given up for
a nursery.

Mrs. Morley considered that it was only by treating Gertrude
" quite as a lady," that she could make her happy and contented,
and prevent her thinking of running away again. She had also
the fond idolatrous feeling that many mothers have for their
daughters, which leads them to work like slaves to save the
daughter from the necessity of stirring hand or foot ; they would
make a dozen journeys from the garret to the cellar sooner than
see their daughter obliged to walk across the room.

It is a very false and ill-judged mode of showing affection •
it reverses the order of nature, and it induces an habitual
indolent self-indulgence, which, though it may have its rise in a

THB SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 173

thoughtless acquiescence, does not fail to be as evil in its
influence on the character, as indolence and self-indulgence, by
their own nature, must be.

It was no fault of Gertrude's that she was found by her father,
on his return, sitting nicely dressed in the parlour, and making
up a lace cap, whilst her mother was looking red and hot from
standing over the fire in the kitchen. The cap was intended for
her mother, as a surprise to her on Sunday ; but Simon Morley
did not know this, and he thought " it was only of a piece with
the rest of her conceit to keep a nurse to look after her child,
whilst she sat quite grand in the parlour sewing fal-lals of satin
and make-believe flowers."

In the afternoon things went a little better : Simon Morley
always took a nap after dinner, and as there was of necessity a
cessation of industry in the kitchen whilst the servants dined,
Mrs. Morley took Gertrude over the cottage, which was literally
as well as figuratively her household god.

She had never been above keeping an inn ; and whilst she
administered the affairs of the "Metringham Arms" she had felt
a pride in it, and considered it a house that might stand com-
parison with the best ; still to retire from busiuess, and live in a
private house on their own land, was decidedly a rise in the
world.

" It is not a grand place," said she, " but it is warm and
comfortable. I could not bear the old place after you left, all
looked so changed ; your father bought this to please me, but I
should have been quite lost in it for want of something to do if
it had not been for the thoughts of making it comfortable and
as you would like it if you came back to us. I never had a nail
knocked up but I thought of thee, and that some day may-be, I
should go round with thee and show it thee."

174 Tilt; SO SHOWS OF GENTILITY.

" You are a deal too good to me, mother, and I don't deserve
to be treated so kindly. I would not go over the house by
myself this morning, I waited for you."

Mrs. Morley thought that no mother had ever been blessed
with so kind and good a daughter in this world before.

The cottage was really as pretty a place as could be seen on
a summer's day, and even in the depth of winter it looked
peculiarly cosy and comfortable. It was a low, white building
— the approach to which was by the " foredrift," down which
they had driven the previous evening, which terminated in a
farm-yard, with the usual out-buildings. A porch entrance,
covered in the summer with honeysuckle and jessamine, led into
a hall with red-tiled floor, on one side of which was the kitchen
before-mentioned.

The hall was the place where Simon Morley stored his fowling-
pieces aud powder-flasks, and whips of every description ; whilst
his great-coats were hung on pegs against the walls — which
were also ornamented with sundry pictures and some pieces of
embroidery done by Gertrude when at school; they had been
the admiration of all beholders, and universally deemed worthy
of being framed and glazed. A bureau of oak clamped with
brass, a large dining-table of walnut wood, with innumerable
legs, and sundry heavy chairs, of the same material, with black
leather seats, stood against the walls, and seemed to defy any
undertaking to remove them. A looking-glass, in a carved
black frame, surmounted with peacock's feathers, slanted from
the wall over to the fire-place, which was filled with holly ; and
a large corner cupboard, with glass doors, was filled with Mrs.
Morley's best glass and china.

Beyond the hall was the parlour, raised above it by a single
step — a small, comfortable, but somewhat stuffy room, furnished

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILlTf. 175

in an old-fashioned homely style. Two large arm-chairs stood
on each side of the fire-place ; beside Mrs. Morley's chair stood
a spider-legged table, on which her knitting lay, whilst a slab
fastened to the tall wooden chimney-piece, on her father's side,
held his tobacco-box and spectacles. Here the worthy couple
used to sit opposite to each other when they were not otherwise
engaged, and every night they smoked their pipe together ; for
Mrs. Morley smoked as well as her husband ; and whoever had
seen them sitting there would have thought that they looked
very comfortable. Portraits of Mr. and Mrs. Morley hung
against the wall, and the likeness of his striped waistcoat and
of her best cap was very striking indeed.

A glass door in the hall opened upon a large coach-wheel
grass-plot, which was just under the parlour window. The
garden was a large one, and laid out in the old English fashion
of long gravel walks, edged with box, and leading to an alcove
summer-house which stood on a mount opposite to the house.
Gertrude was earnest in her expressions of admiration.

" It is a very pretty place in summer, though you cannot
judge of it now. We have plenty of flowers and roses growing
all over the front of the house, and climbing into the windows.
It is too cold for you to see the dairy and those places ; but
come upstairs and let us see the baby. A little darling ! it is
the best and sweetest child I ever saw — just reminds me of
what you used to be at that age."

1'6 TILE SOEKOWS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER XXX.

At length Sunday morning came. It was a fine, clear, frosty
morning, and the window-panes were covered with fairy land-
scapes in hoar frost. Gertrude presented the cap she had made
to surprise her mother, who was delighted with it ; but still more
pleased that Gertrude had worked a watch-paper in coloured
silks for her father, who received the offering graciously enough ;
it explained, in some degree, Gertrude's occupation, of which he
had judged so hardly.

By eleven o'clock, Simon Morley, junior, and his wife and
child drove up in one of the Metringham chaises ; he had grown
very stout and florid, and wore drab small-clothes, and white
stockings ; an immense gold chain and a bunch of seals dangled
at his fob.

He wras very much surprised to see Gertrude, of whose
arrival he had not heard; he greeted her affectionately, and
with more gentleness than formerly, and introduced his wife to
her, bidding them become acquainted as sisters ought to be.
The babies were then introduced to each other, which was not
very successful, for they both began to cry.

Simon Morley speedily took possession of his son, to get
his opinion of a new cart-horse and some stock he had recently
bought.

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 177

The ladies retired to the nursery. Mrs. Morley, indeed, could
give them but a very divided attention ; for she had continually
to look after things down-stairs.

The two sisters-in-law did not get on very well together : of
the two, Gertrude almost preferred Miss Sophia. Mrs. Simon
Morley, junior, was rather good-looking, but with an expression
which was somewhat repelling ; she was very silent and com-
posed in her manners, though she gave the idea of being con-
stantly on the watch to pass judgment upon everything ; added
to this, a peculiar mode of holding her head gave her the air of
being constantly offended and displeased. She was extremely
silent, and it was next to impossible to draw her into conversa-
tion. She was very handsomely dressed in a black satin cloak
and a crimson silk dress, very much trimmed.

The baby, which was a stout, chubby boy, looked like the
knave of clubs, in a seal-skin cap and gold band, with an
enormous cockade of the finest lace on the side of his cap.
Still Mrs. Simon had not that comfortable sense of superiority
over Gertrude to which she felt she had a right after what she
had heard of her run-away match, to a man not worth a
farthing. Simon Morley had told his son about Mr. Augustus
Donnelly's early application to him for money, and the son had
naturally told his wife.

Gertrude was dressed much more plainly than Mrs. Simon;
but then her dress, made by herself, had a very superior style
about it; — to be sure, something might be owing to Gertrude's
graceful figure, but her sister-in-law was not likely to own that
to be a reason. Then, too, she felt envious and annoyed to see
the splendid worked frock and the silver set of coral-bells
possessed by Gertrude's child, — the gift of its noble god-father.
Altogether, she felt uncomfortable and out of conceit with her-
13

178 THE SOBKOWS OF GESTItlTT.

self beside Gertrude — which is not the frame of mind to
develope amiability.

Gertrude made many inquiries about Bunnington and the
old place; whether old Joe, the ostler, was living there still;
and whether Ealph, the raven, still hopped about the yard; and
whether the old grey parrot were alive. Her heart yearned to
her old home, and she would have been glad to hear tidings of
the very stones in the street. Mrs. Simon Morley, junior, with
her sullen self-complacency and severe manners, chose to think
that Gertrude was intending to insult her by asking so much
about the old inn, when she had considered it beneath her to live
there, never taking into, her charitable thoughts how bitterly
poor Gertrude had expiated, and was likely to expiate, that
mistake.

Gertrude then endeavoured to extract some information about
several old friends — the Hiss Slocums iu particular; but she
had touched upon a very sore subject. There was a deadly feud
between Mrs. Simon Morley and the whole tribe of Slocums.
The eldest had married the young Squire to whom, as we have
said, she was engaged, and the match had been very fortunate;
she was now a -squire's lady, and took precedence cf her at
church. The second had married a very interesting young
clergyman, the bishop's chaplain — and had omitted to send her
cards and cake. The youngest was not yet married to any one;
but, on the strength of her connexions, considered herself ex-
tremely superior to Mrs. Simon. Consequently there was
nothing too severe or ill-natured for Mrs. Simon to say of them.
There might certainly have been some sins of conceit to lay to
their charge, but the chief fault lay in Mrs. Simon's cold,
touchy, supercilious disposition.

At length dinner-time came — it was a great relief to every-

THE S02K0W3 Off GENTILITY. 179

body. It was a dinner fit for a lord mayor's feast, — tlie table
being1 laid in the hall, as the parlour was too small to accom-
modate it. Gertrude could not forbear smiling at the contrast
between the plenty spread before her, and the cheer to which,
of late she had been accustomed. But however substantial and
sumptuous a dinner may be, the capacity of human nature to do
justice to it is very limited ; and it is only a small fraction of a
feast that falls to the lot of each guest !

When dinner was over, the two gentlemen set to work with
their pipes, whilst the ladies felt that all occupation was over,
and experienced the need of something to do, as they soon be-
came tired of sitting by and looking on. The conversation that
passes at a purely family party is generally very dull; but
Gertrude could not help being struck with the difference in
Mrs. Simon Morley's manners, when she addressed her father, —
she fawned upon him and flattered him in the most unreserved
manner, till Gertrude felt quite pained for her ; but her manners
to Mrs. Morley were not of the same elaborate nature, being, in
fact, barely respectful and not at all agreeable.

Gertrude grew dreadfully tired before the evening was over ;
there was tea, and after that a supper, before it was fairly con-
cluded ; and it was not until past eleven o'clock that Mr. and
Mrs. Simon Morley stepped into their chaise to return home ;
and when old Simon wished his daughter-in-law good night, he
put a large, handsomely-chased silver tankard, which he had
won in a coursing-match, into her hands as a Christmas-
box.

If she could have been always amiable and always so well
rewarded, she would soon have made a fortune out of her prize
temper.

When Simon Morley went to bed that night, ho was not
13—3

180 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

tipsy; but he was in a peculiarly perverse and provoking
temper. Drinking always developed a spice of maliciousness
in him.

i: I'll tell you what, wife," said he, " I don't see why Gertrude
is not young enough and strong enough to take care of her
child herself, without having a fine madman of a nurse to help
her. If she cannot it is time she is learned ; — anyway, I will
keep no such fizgigs about here. It is enoug-h that you and I
have to begin to rock the cradle again at our time of life, with-
out being plagued with nurses. You did not see Mrs. Simon
come trailing with a nurse at her heels ; she is a solid- minded,
sensible woman, and will help Simon both to get a fortune and
to keep one. I wish Ger. would take pattern by her."

"You surely do not mean to compare Simon's wife to our
Gertrude ? " said Mrs. Morley, indignantly ; for though she
seldom argued with her husband, and never contradicted him
when he was the worse for liquor, still this was more than she
could bear.

She had been annoyed, too, to see her husband give a hand-
some cup, one of her silver idols, to "a mean, cold-hearted
creature," who, as she said, "only tried to creep up his sleeve
for what she could get from him."

It would have been a great comfort for her to have spoken
her mind pretty sharply, though she knew it would do no good.
Luckily, Simon Morley gave sonorous evidence that he had
fallen fast asleep ; so Mrs. Morley was saved from committing
an imprudence, and, to make amends, she had the comfort of
crying to herself in peace.

THE SOEEOWS OS GENTILITY, 181

CHAPTER XXXI.

Night is not the season for meditation : Nature never intended
it for anything but Sleep. The proverb says, that " Night
brings counsel," but that is only by adjourning all perplexing
points and declining to attend to them till the next day ; to lie
awake in the hope of solving difficulties is about as sensible as
to look for the beauties of Nature with a magic lantern.

During the night every subject looks black, fantastic, and
exaggerated, presenting as many different aspects as there are
points in the compass. Nobody need ever expect to get counsel
from their pillow except in the shape of sleep.

Poor Mrs. Morley lay awake meditating on the last words of
her husband ; she thought of many different schemes for assist-
ing herself, and bringing him to reason, or else " of making
him to repent of it ;" but they partook more of " the natural
vehemence of the female character" than of any prospect of
success. One moment she thought of going away and leaving
her husband, taking Gertrude and the baby with her to live
where nobody knew them, and take in washing — which, of
course, she proposed to do entirely herself, as Gertrude was not
to turn her hand to anything. Then again she thought she
would speak to her husband, and work upon his feelings to be

182 THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITT.

kind to Gertrude; bat she always felt herself constrained to
invent some disagreeable speech for him which worried her
quite as much as any actual unkindness of his could have done.

At length morning came, and with the night Mrs. Morley's
troubles disappeared, or at least they became more manageable.

Simon Morley had a vague sullen recollection of some dispute
with his wife the previous night ; he did not well recollect the
cause of it, still he did not choose to commit himself by any
spontaneous act of amiability ; indeed, he felt rather inclined to
indulge himself with an ill-humour, which, as everybody knows,
is a great luxury sometimes. He preserved a dogged silence,
and went out to look over his labourers as usual ; but he went
off in a dignified cloud, without speaking to his wife or saying
when he would be in to breakfast.

Hunger, and the force of habit, brought him back within half
an hoar of the usual time. Gertrude had gone up to the nursery
when he returned, and Mrs. Morley was alone in the parlour.
Sue had got ready for him a basin of fine strong green tea, with
delicious cream, which Simon always enjoyed when he had been
drinking over night, and Mrs. Morley was famous for making
good tea.

He came round after breakfast into rather a better temper ;
he spoke once or twice of his own accord, and made no allusion
either to Gertrude or the nurse, and Mrs. Morley took care not
to remind him.

It was market-day at a neighbouring town and he had to
attend it, which would keep him from home until night, anfl
this was so much breathing time for his wife.

After she had seen him off, she betook herself to the dairy,
where she made a cheese, and then she put away every article
that had been brought out during the day, putting off till the

the sorcaows of oektiut?. 183

last minute the task of breaking1 her husband's commands to
Gertrude ; not that she thought it such a great hardship to dis-
pense with a nursery-maid, hut she did not know how to dis-
guise it, so as not to hurt Gertrude's feelings, or make her think
she was not a welcome guest.

She found Gertrude sitting alone in the nursery, rocking the
baby. " Where's the nurse ? " she asked.

" She is packing up her things," said Gertrude. " She told
me the day after we came that she should not like to live in
such a quiet place, so this morning I told her she might go. I
have been thinking that I ought to manage the baby by myself,
I have nothing else to do ; Mrs. Simon brought no nurse with
her yesterday, and her baby is younger than mine."

" Well ! " said Mrs. Morley, inexpressibly relieved to find all
her difficulties so naturally solved. " Well ! I must say that
you are the best, and thoughtmllest, and patientest creature
that ever lived ; but I don't like the notion of your slaving"
yourself with that heavy baby."

" Oh, it is not in the least too heav}'," said Gertrude eagerly ;
" besides, I don't think my father likes to see the nurse, and he
did not seem pleased with rne, I fancy so at least."

" Why, you' see," said Mrs. Morley, " that your father is
rather short in his temper, and he does not like nurse-maids ;
he thinks them all poor sleeveless creatures; so perhaps it is as
well to let yours go ; our girl has very little to do, and she will
be delighted to help to take care of the baby."

" I wonder how Mrs. Simon manages," said Gertrude, " for
she must have her hands fall with the house."

" Oh, she takes care of herself, and will never be killed by
any work she will do, I warrant. As to not bringing a nurse
yesterday, it was all her falseness, to curry favour with your

184 THE SORROWS OF GUXTILITY.

father ; I have no patience with her — a fawning, deceitful thing-.
And to think of your father being so taken in by her as to give
her that silver coursing-cup ; I would not have cared for its
going, if she had been a different sort of person."

Women cannot bear to see presents made to other women
before their face, even though it may not be an object they per-
sonally covet. There is a natural jealousy in the sex, even
amongst the best and most generous of them, and it must be
owned that in this instance it was a very aggravating piece of
generosity of which Simon Morley had been guilty.

The next day the nurse returned to London. She had a home
to go to, and Mrs. Morley made her a present over and above
her wages, for her kindness to Gertrude, with whom she had
lived since the birth of the child.

Although delivered from this cause of offence, Simon Morley
and his daughter did not get on much better together ; he had,
in fact, taken a prejudice against her. He might, in time, have
forgiven her running away (though a father offended is more
difficult to win back than a mother), and he might have grown
accustomed to her superior refinement of manners, if it had
been atoned for by any substantial basis of prosperity and sta-
tion ; but, unhappily, Gertrude had made the worst of all
possible matches ; she had not only married a man without a
shilling, but she had come back with her child to be a burden
to him, and there was a very indefinite prospect that she would
ever be anything else. He had a mortal antipathy to poor
people ; he felt uncomfortable when they were near him, pos-
sibly from an ill-defined idea that he ought to assist them,
which, however, he never did. He paid his poor rates with an
emphatic protest against their injustice, and he never gave away
a farthing in charity. So that when his own daughter brought

THE SOEBOWS OP GENTILITY. 185

poverty into the bosom of his family, he felt that he had a right
to be indignant, and he hated the sight both of her and the
child. If he had been a lawgiver it is to be feared that he
would have exposed all the babies who were likely to be
chargeable to the parish. His rooted aversion to poverty, as
something contrary to nature, had its rise in a better feeling ;
his own shrewd industry and horror of becoming dependent
upon others had, by the lapse of years, all devoted to money-
getting, become hardened and withered into hie present sordid
and unamiable spirit.

Gertrude kept herself as much as possible out of her father's
way, and confined herself, with the baby, to the nursery ; still
they were obliged to be together sometimes, and on those occa-
sions he either did not speak to her at all, or else he would ask
her how it happened that, with six hundred a-year and no in-
cumbrances, she and her husband had not kept their chins
above water ? inquiring with a false jocularity, " how much she
thought they could do it for ? " There was some justice in his
remarks, but he took a cruel advantage of having both all the
right, and all the power, on his own side ; he showed no mercy
to Gertrude, and never spared her a single remark or sarcasm
that occurred to him.

Poor Gertrude suffered cruelly ; her spirits drooped, as well
they might, under this constant worry. She would willingly
have delivered herself from it, and gone to live in a garret, and
worked for herself, but it was not the least of her troubles that
she was powerless to do anything ; her child took up all her
time. She must remain where she was, or starve ; her father's
hospitality, however grudgingly bestowed, was the only person's
she had the shadow of a right to claim.

Gertrude found, by bitter experience, that when people have

186 THE SOEEOWS 0? GENTILITY.

once thrown themselves out of the crrrent, they cannot return to
it at will. She had left her father's roof and thrown heedlessly
away her lawful right to its shelter and protection ; she had
come back, as he said, to be a burden ; she had nothing to do
there, her place was with her husband, and she was an incum-
brance to him also. She had suffered ignominy and reproaches
from her husband's relations on whom she had been intruded ;
but for those she had cared little — she had a right to be with
her husband ; but here, in her father's house, she filled no place,
she was not wanted, she could do nothing1 to requite the obliga-
tion she received, and no one knows how bitter that is until
they have tried it.

Poor girl ! she had bitterly suffered for her first false step ;
all her progress since had been like an attempt to wind a skein
of silk by the wrong end. Ivlrs. Morley did her best to shield
her daughter from annoyance, to avert all occasions of collision
with her husband. But the strain that was needed to do this
was very painful, and the embarrassment and restraint that
had been introduced into their domestic intercourse made home
unpleasant to all parties.

This state of things was constantly liable to be aggravated
by accidental circumstances. One day the servant, who had
been rebuked for flirting with one of the plough-boys, chose to
revenge herself by grumbling before her master, because Mrs.
Donnelly always " would want the new milk for baby," when
she had set it aside for cream ; and muttering, that if she had
known there was " a baby in the family she would never have
agreed to come, for that she did not like children, and had not
been engaged to help to nurse them."

Another time it chanced that dinner was a little behind, and
the excuse was that she had been " nursing baby."

TIIE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 18?

These seem trifling incidents, but they were like the grains of
sand that go to pile up a mountain. How much longer things
could have gone on as they were is doubtful, but matters were
brought to a crisis by a letter received by Gertrude from
her husband, -when she had been at the cottage about two
months.

It was dated from an obscure village near Boulogne. In it
he drew a most gloomy picture of his position, and seemed in a
very desponding way ; in fact, the fine spirits of Mr. Augustus
were completely clamped. Lord Southend had gone on to Italy,
so he had no hopes from that quarter until his return. Gertrude
might have borne all this, — feeling a good deal of sympathy
certainly, but still without being made much more miserable
than she was, — but Mr. Augustus concluded by desiring that
she would beg or borrow for him sufficient money to enable him
to come bach to England, and expressing his intention to come
and see " whether her friends would keep him snug from his
creditors, until he should have made some arrangement with
them." He then drew a vivid picture of the miserably unhappy
condition to which he was reduced; — "exiled in a small village,
without a Christian soul to speak to, and nothing to pass on the
time, except thinking of his dearest Gertrude and his confounded
debts !"

Gertrude, who had hoped that things were mending with her
husband, was thrown into g-reat shame and trouble by the
receipt of this letter. To be a burden herself upon her father
was bad enough, but to bring her husband upon him too — to
beg money from him — was something far worse than she had
ever contemplated.

Within the last two months she had learned practically what
it was to be dependent, and she felt bitterly humiliated that

1SS

THE SOEKOWS OF GKXTILIIY.

Augustas should seem so indifferent about it. Her mother
found her crying, with the letter in her lap.

" Dear me, it is a bad job," said she, after she had read it.
''I don't know how we must break it to your father ; he is as
queer tempered as he can be ; all owing," added she hastily, " to
that stupid Bill Stringer laming the new cart-horse, when he
took it to be shod last week ; and Betsy has just told me that
one of the cows is ill, and would not give her milk this morning ;
so when he comes home and hears it, there will be no containing
him in the house. If men did but know how their violent wavs
break poor women's hearts, they would be more considerate."

" I can never tell him about Augustus," said Gertrude, "and
I never will. If I could only get up to London, Lady Southend
has promised to give me work, and I might earn enough to
keep us all."

" Bless thee, child ! what nonsense thou dost talk. I declare
it quite vexes me to hear you. What couldst thou do, I should
like to know, with that blessed baby cutting its teeth, and as
fractious, the little darling, as it can be, keeping you on the
stretch night and clay to attend to it 't Gaining a living takes
you all day long hard work, and sometimes part of the night
too ; and besides I have no opinion of women working for their
husbands ; it is taking things the wrong way about, and if your
husband is a right-minded man he will not desire it, but work
himself to the bone before you should think of it. Leave me to
manage your father, I know his humours better than you do,
and it stands to reason he can do no good by stopping in those
foreign parts ; he had best come back, and put his shoulder to
the wheel here."

Gertrude sighed ; she had an instinct that her husband had
very little notion of putting his own shoulder to it.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 189

Poor Mrs. Morley did not too well know how she was to
make her husband " hear reason," as she called it ; but she did
not tell Gertrude so. That night brought Simon Morley home
in a better temper than had graced him for a long time, owing
to a good bargain he had ■ made ; the horse too was better, so
that Mrs. Morley considered she should never have a more
favourable opportunity.

According to Mrs. Ellis, there is a certain diplomacy by
which all wives may rule their husbands, and guide them in the
way they are desired to go. It is a great pity that Mrs. Morley
lived before that lady's valuable works were written, otherwise
she might have been more successful than she was. Simon
Morley, so soon as he understood that his son-in-law had written
to beo* assistance, desired to see the letter, which Mrs. Morley
was obliged to give him, though she would have preferred
telling his story her own way. Simon Morley put on his
spectacles and deliberately read every word of the letter, and
then he said —

" This is the second letter of that young chap's writing that I
have seen, and it just confirms the first notion I formed of him;
he is a wastrel — an idle, good-for-nothing, whiffling fellow.
He is better there than here, but he never will do a pennyworth
of good anywhere ; and I am not going to put my money into
a sack with holes, and I am not going to have him standing
about here. Gertrude is welcome to stop here, and the baby
too, as long as she pleases, but I'll have nought to do with her
husband, and you had best not mention his name to me again,
or you and Gertrude may pack out of the house together. A
young jackanapes, to talk in that free and easy way of being
' kept snug from his creditors ;' may be, I would give them a
hint where to look for him, if he puts his nose in here."

190 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

After uttering this speech 'with much emphasis, Simon
Mori e j filled his pipe, and sat majestically enveloped in the
clouds that rose from it. His wife had not even the comfort of
thinking that he was in a passion, and had said more than
he meant, for he was in a provokingly good humour all the
rest of the evening. The fact is, he had long- expected the
appeal in question, and the idea of the vain, idle, thriftless
husband in the bach-ground, ready to come down and quarter
himself on his " wife's vulgar relations," had marred the cor-
diality of his welcome to Gertrude ; he, had been lying in wait
he had spoken his mind, he felt quite relieved and happy, and as
for an opportunity to express his determination, and now that
well pleased with himself as if his conscience had applauded
him for a good deed. It must be owned that there was some
sense in what he had said.

THh; Sv,i;:U0")V3 0£ GENTILITY 191

CHAPTER XXXII.

Pooe Mrs. Morley retired quite crest-fallen. She was morti-
fied on account of Gertrude, but she was also specially provoked
at the grim triumphant look of her husband, who seemed quite
to enjoy her discomfiture ; but she was not at the end of her
resources, and fortune befriended her.

Her son chanced to ride over the next day to speak to his
father about some land he thought of buying, and into his ears
she poured out her perplexities. We have seen that he met
his sister with more kindness and gentleness than of old.
Since he had been married he had changed his views on several
subjects, and his conscience smote him for not having been
very kind to his sister ; possibly the matrimonial discipline of
his wife's temper had developed his brotherly affection. At
any rate he said :

" Well, mother, don't fret about it, and say no more to my
father, he is like a rock when he has once taken a thing into
his head. Let Ger. and her husband come to us for a while —
as long as they like — and the baby can be in our little lad's
nursery ; it is quite big enough, and they will play together
nicely. I dare say amongst us we can raise enough, to fetch
Donnelly over, — it 13 of no use his stopping there — and who

192 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

knows what may turn up ? His friends exerted themselves for
him once before, and may do again if he can only hold on for a
while. We must just help him to get up his head a bit, — only
I am afraid Ger. won't make herself happy along- with us."

"No fear of that, my lad; she is as humble and as meek as
an angel ; it makes me fairly cry sometimes to see her pride
so come down, — so grateful she is for the least thing, and so
afraid of giving trouble. But, I say, your wife has an over-
bearing way with her sometimes ; don't let her put upon Ger-
trude, nor trample upon her."

"I would like to see her attempt it," replied the younger
Simon, imperiously. " My wife knows that my will is law,
and she dare not set up herself against what I choose, — and I
choose that she shall treat Gertrude as my sister."

" Ah, well," said Mrs. Morley, " don't go and say that to her.
You had best leave Gertrude to make her own way, for she
is so sweet-tempered and so pleasant-spoken, nobody can resist
her. No doubt she will know how to please Mrs. Simon."

But the idea of " her Gertrude " having to study the whims
and caprices of Mrs. Simon, was almost too much for Mrs.
Moi-ley's patience, and she turned away to hide the tears that
nearly choked her. Her son, whom the absence of his wife
rendered bold did not perceive her agitation, but added in an
off-handed manner : " Give my love to Ger. and tell her we
sball expect her. Mrs. Simon is no great hand at writing
out anything but the bills, so she must excuse a polite invi-
tation, and take the will for the deed — and I will send a
chaise over for her some day next week."

" But you will see your sister, and tell her yourself? " said
Mrs. Morley.

" No, no, you can explain things better than I can ; it would

THE SORROWS OF GEXTILITT. 193

look as if I were casting up my promises to make her
thank me. I am fond of Ger. but I don't know how to talk
to her."

"When Simon Morley junior returned home he found that the
plan, which had looked so easy and delightful when he was at
the cottage, grew much more difficult of execution. His wife
was in a very bad humour, and the whole house was in a bustle ;
he therefore made an excuse to himself to delay the communica-
tion " till a more convenient season," but in proportion as he
delayed, his courage ebbed. He said to himself that he " was
not afraid," that he was "master in his own house," and sundry
other truisms, which, however, he found untenable, and sat at
night in the bar beating his brains for the best method of
breaking the matter to his wife. At length he made a bold
plunge, at precisely the wrong moment. Mrs. Simon was
settling her book, and endeavouring to balance a refractory
column which showed a deficiency of sevenpence halfpenny. She
was in the midst of her third attempt at addition when the
thread of her attention was snapped by her husband's saying
in an authoritative voice, to disguise his trepidation, —

" I have invited my sister Gertrude and her husband to come
and stop with us."

Mrs. Simon went on with her addition, and did not appear
to hear him ; her husband continued in a louder key, —

" I tell you that I have invited my sister and her husband to
come and stop with us. "What do you mean by your insolence
in sitting there like a post, and never answering when I speak
to you ? I tell you they shall come here, and stay as long as I
please ; you may look, but I am not to be put down. I desire
you to give orders to send a chaise on Saturday for Mrs.
Donnelly."
14

1U4 THE S0KK0WS OF GEXIiLITT.

Mrs. Simon Morley looked at her husband with great con-
tempt, and then said with provoking calmness, but with the
supremest disdain, —

"Of course, Mr. Simon Morley, it shall be as you please;
nobody ever doubted your right to invite anyboby you choose, — •
send a chaise for your sister by all means; perhaps it will
please you to make her the mistress of this house instead of
me — pray do. Of course, it will be quite right; I slave myself
for you, and save for you, and stint myself of every thing, in
order that you may come home and fly out upon me, as if I
were the dirt under your feet. I stay at home, and wear my
poor soul out of my boby, to keep thing's going, whilst you go
riding about to fairs and markets, and guzzling with everybody
who will drink with you. — I am a miserable woman, that I
am."

This tirade, of course, ended in a violent gash of tears. Her
husband sat feeling half angry and half foolish ; he had not
expected such a storm, and he did not know how to retreat with
dignity. He knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and said
naively.

" I wish you would not talk so much ! I am fairly moithered
with so many words; do make an end and come to bed."

Bat Mrs. Simon Morley would not " make an end ; " long
and bitterly she scolded on, for though in general silent, when
once launched in a grievance, she sustained it with more than
ordinary female vehemence, and took care to embrace a wide
range of complaint. A stranger would have thought that a
separation to all eternity must have ensued, but it was only a
matrimonial storm; neither party meant the other any par-
ticular ill beyond the annoyance of the moment, and it calmed
down, leaving, as was generally the case, Mrs. Simon rather

THE SOBEOWS OF GENTILITY. 195

more confirmed in her influence, and her husband rather more
afraid of provoking her than before.

The result was, that the incipient dislike which Mrs. Simon
felt to Gertrude was confirmed into a positive detestation. She
did not think it prudent to refuse to receive Gertrude altogether
but she had succeeded in receiving her sister-in-law upon the
footing it best pleased her, and leaving herself free to wreak
any small feminine spite she chose ; whilst her husband, content
with having carried his point, was afraid to interfere further, — ■
and she took care to give him no pretext. He was delighted to
see her despatch a chaise to the cottage on the appointed day,
and as if she were bent on showing how amiable she could be,
she went so far as to write a note to Gertrude, with a moderately
cordial invitation from herself.

Gertrude, though grateful to her brother, did not at all like
the idea of trying' the hospitality of her sister-in-law for an
unlimited period ; but she was come to that unhappy pass when
she was obliged to feel grateful for "small mercies" .of the
most unpalatable kind. She was dependent upon her friends,
and obliged to receive house and shelter upon any terms.
Simon Morley, when told of his son's offer, had declared, " that
she could not do better than go ; " after this there was no appeal,
and Mrs. Morley, with a sorrowful heart, prepared to let her
depart. She would herself have accompanied her, but Simon
Morley was attacked by a fit of the gout, which not only de-
tained her, but made him so irritable that she was almost
thankful to get her daughter out of the house.

19b THE SOKEOWS OF UENTILITY.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The chaise drove the back way into the yard of the
" Metringbam Arms," and so avoided going through the town.
Everything brought back to her remembrance the day when
she came home from school ; there was a curious coincidence
even in the accidental circumstances. A travelling--carriao-e was
changing horses, and a large party were stopping to dine ; the
house was in the bustle she so well remembered. Mrs. Simon
Morley was busy receiving' her guests, and there was no one to
welcome her except old Joe, the lame ostler ; she could almost
have embraced him, he was the only one who remained of the
old set of servants.

Gertrude bitterly felt the difference between then and now.
She stood with the baby in her arms waiting for some one to
show her were to go, and feeling more miserable than she had
ever yet been, — choked, and suffocated, and wretched, — far too
miserable to cry.

In a few moments Mrs. Simon Morley came up to her, and
told her, with a dash of patronage in her manner, that she was
glad to see her, and begged she would consider herself at home.
Her brother came as they were speaking, booted and spurred,
and followed by his dogs, — he had been out coursing, and he

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 197

had not expected her so soon. He was very pleased to see her,
and received her as cordially as he durst for fear of vexing his
wife.

" Well, wife, where are you going to put Ger. ? Somebody
had better carry these things up-stairs. Have you put her into
the room next to ours ? "

" I have prepared Mrs. Donnelly's room," said Mrs. Simon,
with an air of putting down all questions ; " and if she will
follow me I will show her to it myself."

Instead of turning down the passage leading to Gertrude's
old room, which had, indeed, been once more transformed into
a nursery, they mounted a steep flight of stairs that led to the
"servant's story." Mrs. Simon opened the door of a light
roomy attic, with sloping roof and full of beams and rafters,
but brilliantly white and clean ; two casements stuck into small
gables commanded a view of the church, and the country lying
beyond. It was furnished sufficiently well for an attic, but
without any attempt at extra comfort. There was nothing to
complain of in it, and it was decidedly more comfortable than
her bed-room at Mrs. Donnelly's ; still it marked painfully the
difference between her former and her present position in that
house, — between the home she had recklessly cast off and the
home to which she was returning, to eat the bread of charity.

"I have put you here," said Mrs. Simon, "in order that you
might feel quite settled ; the house is often so full that in any
other room I might have been obliged to disturb you. Simon
and I are sometimes obliged to give up our room; it is quite
wonderful how travelling has increased of late years. I hope
you will be comfortable, — pray ask for all you want. There is
a nursery down stairs where you can sit with the baby ; I dare
say you "

198 TIIE SORROWS OV GENTILITY.

A voice loudly calling at the bottom of the stairs obliging
her to leave her speech unfinished, but she had nearly got to the
end of all she had to say. Gertrude looked round the room
when she was alone ; there was no bell, and no fire lighted. It
was too cold to indulge long in meditation, and she went down
stairs in search of the nursery ; glad, at least, to be sure of a
comfortable refuge for the baby. Gertrude's brother had been
as good as his word. He had received some money for the sale
of some wheat, and, without his wife's knowledge, he had
writtten to his brother-in-law and sent him the wherewithal to
pay his journey ; Mr3. Simon Morley received the remainder of
the money, without in the least suspecting what her husband
had done with the rest. He had planned to surprise his sister,
and had fixed her arrival as near as he could guess for the day
when her husband would reach Dunnington. He was rewarded
for his pains ; for that very evening, as they were sitting down
to supper in the little lantern-like bar-parlour, Mr. Augustus
Donnelly, somewhat soiled and unshaved, but perfectly at his
ease, and on the best possible terms with himself, walked into
the room.

THE SOEEOWS OF GEXTILHY.

CHAPTER XXXIV

Mrs. Simon Moelet was a very virtuous woman Indeed, but
she was not insensible to the soothing voice of flattery, especially
when distilled from the lips of a good-looking young man.
When Mr. Augustus Donnelly entered in the unexpected manner
mentioned in the last chapter, to the great surprise of every-
body, except that of Simon Morley, Mrs. Simon was disposed to
look extremely displeased and disagreeable ; but Mr. Augustus
was not an Irishman for nothing, — he had lived by his wits the
greater part of his life, and knew the importance of mollifying
the mistress of any house where he proposed taking up his
quarters. He was an adept in the strategy of that peculiar
species of courtship called " cupboard-love," and he piqued him-
self upon his skill to draw the teeth, and pare the claws, of the
most determined shrew in Christendom. A glance at the face
of Mrs. Simon revealed to him the genus of the woman he had
to deal with, as a short postscript in his brother-in-law's letter
had enlightened him upon the domestic politics of the " Metring-
ham Arms."

The postscript was : — " Do not tell any one that I sent you
this money ; I have particular reasons for not wishing my wife
to know."

"Les sages entendent a demi mot," — and Mr. Augustus proved

200 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

himself deserving of the epithet. Before he had been five
minutes in the room, Mrs. Simon Morley was under his charm.

After saluting Gertrude, and shaking hands with his brother-
in-law, he seated himself by Mrs. Simon, and began to pay her
a thousand little attentions, such as the good woman had never
received in her life, not even from her husband when he courted
her, nor from all the young men whom she had driven to the
verge of distraction by refusing " to keep company with them."
Mr. Augustus contrived to make her feel that he was decidedly
struck with her appearance, and impressed by the fascination of
her manners. This was not conveyed in a way calculated to
alarm her sensitive modesty, but was combined with a respectful
deference to her as a most superior woman. It was wonderful
how, in so short a space of time, he had become enlightened
upon her choice qualities.

He took his seat by her at table, as if he had lived in the
house all his life ; and whilst he relieved her from the task of
carving the roast ducks, he made some jokes just suited to her
capacity, and which made her laugh heartily. But he did not
venture to praise anything at table, lest she should think every-
thing only too good for him, but he improvised some compli-
ments, which he declared Lord Southend and the Marquis of
Dulcamnara had paid to the " Metringham Arms " one day, at
a white-bait dinner, declaring in the presence of the head waiter,
i; that there was no inn like it for comfort, either in or out of
London ; " and he took care to clinch the compliment by dating
it quite recently, and within the period of her administration.

Her husband was enchanted to see his wife in so genial a
humour, and thought he should havedn his brother-in-law an
ally in all his domestic difficulties.

Gertrude did not admire this display of flattery and devotion

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 201

to Mrs. Simon. She thought it was only encouraging her self-
complacency and general disagreeableness, and could not help
thinking how much better women are rewarded for their exact-
ing ill-humour than when they make a practice of trying to be
forbearing and habitually amiable. She interrupted the current
of compliments, by saying, —

" You have never told us, dear Augustus, how you managed
to find your way here so opportunely ; I fancied you were still
in France."

Simon Morley junior felt rather uneasy at this question ; he
underrated the tact of Mr. Augustus.

" Tour worthy brother generously told me that his house was
open to me whenever I came to England, but for the means of
coming here I am indebted to the unexpected generosity of a
friend ; and do you find it unnatural that I should use my first
funds to rejoin you ? "

Wives are sometimes hard to be persuaded, even by sweet
speeches, and Gertrude would much have preferred that her
husband should have remained absent, rather than come to join
her as a hanger-on upon her brother. She fancied, too, there
was a tone of servility, a vulgar obsequiousness, which she had
never observed in him before.

Mr. Augustus was, in truth, much the same as usual. He had
the gift of suiting himself to his company, and as he was never
over-burdened with delicate perceptions, he could make himself
comfortable everywhere. But the curse of being dependent
changes the very nature of virtues, and makes what under other
circumstances would have been courteous forbearance seem
nothing but self-interested endurance ; it is a reversed alchemy,
for it transforms golden qualities into brazen counterfeits.
Dependence in modern times is what slavery was of old, and

202 THE SORROWS OF GEXTILITT.

it is equally true of both, that it takes all manliness and quality
of character out of whoever voluntarily submits to it.

When the party separated for the night, Gertrude retired
with the determination of straining every nerve to find employ-
ment that should enable her to do something towards supporting
herself and the child ; whilst 3Ir. Augustus thought that, as he
had fallen intq comfortable quarters, he would improve the
friendly disposition of his hosts, and enjoy them as long as
possible. As to the obligation, he considered that he was a
gentleman, and, as such, they might feel honoured by entertaining
him. He had no conception of gratitude towards persons in
their clasa.

IHE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY. 203

CHAPTER XXXV.

The next day being Sunday, Gertrude went to church with
her husband. Mrs. Simon Morley was too busy ever to go to
church, except in the afternoon, and Simon himself had no
great taste for going at all ; still he went sometimes, and slept
peacefully through the service. He was what used to be called
a " good Church and King1 man," and would have knocked
anyone down who was either an infidel or a jacobin ; though his
own loyalty was mainly confined to getting very particularly
drunk upon the King's birthday, and his Christianity, besides
the occasional going to church above mentioned, was shown by
giving the boys of the town five shillings, for a Guy Fawkes,
every fifth of November.

The church looked as Gertrude had always remembered it,
except that the square family-pew, lined with green baize, was
rather more moth-eaten ; but the prayer-books and hymn-books
were those that she had used when she first went to church.
The one she took up had her name written in it, in her father's
handwriting, — a birthday gift, when she had completed her
sixth year.

The asthmatic organ was uttering the old dismal psalm tunes
which had taxed the ears and the patience of the congregation
for a century past.

20-4 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

Gertrude felt that all the congregation was curiously regard-
ing her ; she did not look round, but kept her veil down, and
concealed herself as much as possible behind one of the si one
pillars. Everything seemed the same as it had been the last
Sunday she was there ; by a curious coincidence, the clergyman
had come round, in the clerical cycle of his sermons, to one she
had last heard him preach, and she felt as if the change in her
own fortunes were mocked by this unchanged continuance of all
that surrounded her.

But when service was over, and the congregation dismissed,
and Gertrude, who had loitered till the last, was following the
rest, she was stopped at the church-door by several persons who
had been waiting for her. Old Mr. and Mrs. Slocum were the
first who greeted her. Mr. Slocum had not recovered the severe
illness he had had some months before — it had pulled him down
sadly ; but Mrs. Slocum looked just the same — rather younger
if anything.

" My dear Gertrude, welcome back amongst us," said the old
lady, in a quavering voice. " I declare this is quite a surprise.
When did you come ? Is your mother here ? "

But before Gertrude could reply, her hand was snatched and
heartily shaken by a tall full-blown young woman, in a mag-
nificent hat and feathers, and a brilliant scarlet mantle, lined
with white satin.

" Why, Gertrude, you have forgotten me, I declare ! " cried
she, in a loud, but cheery voice. " I am Martha Slocum that
was, — now Mrs. Greenway ; and this is my husband," continued
she, jerking forwards a florid, good-tempered looking man, in
yellow buckskins and top-boots, on whose arm she was leaning.
" I said it must be you, though I could not see your face, and
you were hidden by the pillar, and nobody would believe me.

THE SOltEOWS, OF GENTILITY. 205

But, my gracious ! how ill you look, — quite pale and thin ; not
like me. Sam says I am growing so fat, that he shall be
indicted for bigamy, for having twice as much of a wife as he
married ; " and she laughed in her husband's face, with enviable
admiration of his wit.

Gertrude answered as best she could, and introduced Mr.
Augustus to them, who acquitted himself extremely well ; and
Mrs. Greenway, looking at him with curiosity, admitted to her-
self that any woman might be excused for running away with
him.

Poor Gertrude enjoyed a small triumph, in the midst of her
sorrows, to see that her husband looked, beside Mr. Slocum and
Mr. Greenway, as if he belonged to another race of men, so
infinitely superior he appeared ; and she was proud of seeing-
that they all acknowledged it.

It was for this shadowy gratification that she had thrown
away the inheritance of her life before she had well entered
upon it.

" Well, I am sure we shall be delighted to see you both at
Lane End," said Mrs. Greenway. "Mrs. Simon and I have
never visited ; but that is no reason why you and I should not
be friends again as we used to be. Will you come to-morrow
and take a friendly dinner with us, and have a talk about old
times?"

Gertrude objected, that she could not leave the baby.

" Oh, the little darling ! I will come and fetch you in the
phaeton, and you can bring it with you, and it can make friends
with our twins, so that is settled. I wonder," continued she,
addressing her husband, " where Joe can be with the phaeton
all this time ; he ought to have been waiting for us."

As she spoke, a large roomy vehicle, of no strict denomina-

206 THE SOEEOWS OF &EXTIL1TV.

tion, was driven up by a boy in pepper-and-salt livery and a
silver band round bis bat. Into this Mrs. Greenway was banded
by her husband, who took the reins and seated himself by her
side, whilst the servant mounted behind.

"Remember, I shall come for you to-morrow, at eleven
o'clock," cried the lady, in a voice that might have been heard
to the other end of the town, and kissing- her hand to the old
people, the worthy and prosperous pair drove off at a brisk
pace.

<: There goes a happy woman, if ever there was one ! " said
Mr. Slocum, looking- after the phaeton with glistening ej-es —
" she has one of the best of husbands, and everything this world
can give ; and she enjoys it, she is happy, and makes others
happy too. Bless yon. her husband worships the very ground
she treads on ! You should see her follow the hounds along-
with him — it is a sight ; he has had a scarlet habit made for
her, and she looks grand in it ! "

" If she were in London, in the park, she would be looked
at," said Mr. Augustus, when there was a pause ; " she is a
monstrous fine woman, and her husband seems a very nice
young fellow ; they are a fine couple.

" Aye, that they are, and they are respected by high and
low. They have a very nice place of their own ; land that has
been in the family for generations ; and whenever you go you
will be sure of a hearty welcome."

Sunday was always the old man's grand gala day — every
Sunday he had the proud satisfaction of walking out of church
with his daughter before all the congregation, and seeing her
drive off in " her own carriage ;" and he enjoyed this far more
than any dignity that could have happened to himself.

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY. 207

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Mas. Geeenway drove up in her phaeton the next day to fetch
Gertrude, according to promise ; she entered the bar with a
good-tempered jovial consciousness that she was a very fine
woman indeed, and that her beaver hat and feathers became
her immensely.

Mrs. Simon was sitting at her little table writing out a ticket
for a post-boy who was in waiting.

The vicar sat upon the little hard horse-hair sofa beneath the
window, reading the London paper — his custom always every
morning, and Mrs. Simon liked to have it so, as she thought it
gave him the appearance of being a friend of the family ; occa-
sionally the vicar's wife and daughter called upon her, and this
always gratified her, for they were the sun and stars of her
social system.

After shaking hands with Mrs. Simon, who received her very
stiffly, and tried to look as though she did not consider her visit
any concern of hers, Mrs. Greenway turned to the vicar, and
inquired after his family in a friendly, familiar manner, that
spoke of intimacy.

She turned again to Mrs. Simon and said, —

" I came to invite you to come to us this evening ; we are

208 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

expecting a few friends in a sociable way to tea and supper, and
Sam bid me say he should see Mr. Simon at market, and would
ask him to come. It is so seldom you give yourself a holiday
that I hope you will be sociable and come."

Mrs. Simon replied stiffly, that she was too busy to visit —
and that, if her husband went out, there was so much the more
reason why she must stay at home.

Mrs. Greenway was rather glad to hear it, but hesitated, as
she thought it right to declare she would take no refusal.

Gertrude entered in her bonnet and shawl, with the baby in
her arms — looking very pretty and lady-like.

Mrs. Greenway rushed up and embraced her, with a bois-
terous good-will that nearly upset Mrs. Simon's little table, and
whisked down her account-book and the bill she had just writ-
ten out.

" I hope I have not kept you long waiting," said Gertrude.
" Oh, no ; I am only just come — and so that is your baby !
what a real little darling ! I have twins to show you when we
go home ! Is it not fun to think we should both of us have
babies? I declare it seems only yesterday since Matilda.,
Emma, and I came over to sec you, the day you left school for
good. Your mother sat just where Mrs. Simon does ; the place
is nut the least changed — only you and I. But I am sure we
are filling the bar, and taking up Mrs. Simon's time ; she must
wish us out of her road. As Sam says, ' One word hinders two
blows.' Good morning, Mrs. Simon, and recollect I shall not
excuse you — I shall quite expect you."

There was a certain dash of patronage in Mrs. Green-
way's manner. Mrs. Simon drew herself up, and said, freez-
ingly —

" That she had no time for dressing and visiting, and that

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 209

Mrs. Greenway could do quite well without her" — which was
quite true, but Mrs. Greenway nevertheless persisted, —

" I am sure you are always nicely dressed. We are plain
homely people — you can come just as you are. We like our
friends to take us as they find us — without ceremony."

Mrs. Simon looked as though she was absorbed in adding
up her cash-book, and made no answer. The vicar gallantly
rose to escort them to the phaeton, and Mrs. Simon heard him
asked to come in the evening with his wife and daughter, for a
friendly rubber, whilst the young people might enjoy a round
game.

The phaeton clattered out of the yard, and Mrs. Simon, with
her temper sharper than ordinary, was left to pursue her
domestic cares in peace. She pounced first upon a delinquent
housemaid, and gave her summary warning for having neglected
to take up the carpet in No. 8 bed-room ; she next gave orders
that any visitors coming to call for Mrs. Donnelly should be
shown upstairs into the nursery. Her husband and Mr. Au-
gustus came in to dinner before the effervescence of her soul
had subsided to the level of its banks.

" I met Greenway's phaeton," said Simon, " with Ger. and
the baby, and Mrs. Greenway inside ; she said she had been to
call on you, and she asked me and Donnelly to drop in to
supper, and to see Ger. home."

" Very well, Mr. Simon Morley, you can go if you choose ;
hut what with visitors in a morning', and goings out at night,
don't blame me if the house comes to ruin. I stop at home and
deny myself every amusement ; I don't even go to church, and
I know the vicar thinks me worse than a heathen — just to see
myself made of no account, and to be treated like dirt by every-
body who cornea to the hoaae. I have thought too little of
16

210 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

myself, and slaved myself to death to take care of your money,
and this is all the thanks I get ! If I had been a wasteful ex-
travagant woman, and flaunted about in a hat and feathers, you
would have been in the Gazelle, but you would have thought
more of me ; but if I were to lie down and die at your feet, you
would not even thank me !"

Dinner being by this time on the table, Mrs. Simon took her
place with an indignant bounce, and began to carve a large
round of beef with the air of one to whom all the virtue left in
the woidd had fled for refuge, whilst she felt herself scarcely
able to protect it. Her husband did not exactly understand
what all this talk was about ; but as he was pretty well accus-
tomed to these tirades, he shook his ears, made no reply, and
ate his dinner like a domestic philosopher.

Mr. Augustus followed his example for a while, but towards
the end of dinner he remarked carelessly to his brother-in-law
that Mrs. Greenway was a full-blown, high-coloured young
woman — that her voice was coarse, her pronunciation vulgar ;
that she appeared to him to be quite commonplace in her ideas,
and to have very little conversation — that her scarlet mantle
made her look for all the world like a farmer's wife bringing
her eggs and butter to market. He said that in a year or two
her figure would have no more shape than a feathei'-bed, and
appealed to Mrs. Simon as to the strong- personal likeness be-
twixt old Mrs. Slocum and her daughter. These observations
were all made quite pleasantly, and with the manner of a man
accustomed to pass his opinion, and to have it listened to. Ho
spoke in a lofty man-of-fashion tone that was quite imposing'.

Mr. Simon Morley had lighted his pipe meanwhile, and sat
puffing forth volumes of smoke, without thinking it necessary
to make any reply. Mrs. Simon recovered her temper and

TH2 SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 211

smoothed her ruffled plumes wonderfully. She held a light for
Mr. Augustus, and mixed him a glass of gin-and- water with her
own fair hands'; and, taking up her sewing, she began to ask
him questions about the parks, the theatres, high society and
life in London generally, to all which Mr. Augustus answered
as he thought best, and gave her a description of what the
queen and all the princesses wore at the last drawing-room, and
told her many interesting anecdotes of members of the aristo-
cracy, " personal friends of his own," as he informed her. Mrs.
Simon was called out, and whilst she was gone her husband re-
marked,— ■

"That his wife was as queer as Dick's hatbaud; there was
no knowing what would vex her or what would please her ; but,
for all that, she was generally right in her notions, and was a
clever woman." To which Mr. Augustus warmly assented.

It is remarkable that, when men have a singularly bad-
tempered wife, they console themselves with the belief that is
a sign she is " a superior woman."

Meanwhile Gertrude and Mrs. Greenway arrived without
accident at " Lane End," as Mrs. Greenway's house was called
It was a large rambling place, built of deep reel brick — it was
in its pretensions something between a farm-house and a gentle-
man's mansion. A white five-barred gate admitted the phaeton
into a large field, through which there was a broad gravel drive
■ — it was not an avenue, although a luxuriant hedge-row, planted
at intervals with stately trees, gave it partially the appearance
of one; that field led by another with a white gate^like the
former ; after which they entered another field, in which, at the
head of a gentle rise, the house was situated. A large garden,
an orchard, and various fitxm-building-s lay in the rear.

" Wc will drive round to the back yard, if you don't mind,
15—2

212 THE SOBEOWS OP GENTILITY.

Gertrude ; it is so much handier for the horse, and Sam does
not like to see the gravel cut up with wheels ; it is the one
thing- he is particular about. I tell him he is like an old maid
about it."

They drove into a large stable-yard, paved with stones. An
immense mastiff came out of his kennel to the utmost stretch of
his chain, and barked furiously at their advent, and several
clogs of various breeds and sizes joined the chorus. A farm-
servant came running to take the horse; Mrs. Greenway
alighted without any help, and took the baby from Gertrude.
They entered the house through a glass door, and went up a
wide tiled passage, past the kitchen, a large comfortable place,
with flitches of bacon, hams, and dried tongues hanging from
the ceiling1. Two buxom servant women in print dresses, with
tight short sleeves, were busily engaged at the dresser beneath
the window — an air of well-to-do plenty reigned in every direc-
tion.

Mrs. Greenway took Gertrude at once to the nursery, where
with great pride she showed her twins, both fast asleep in the
same cradle — little, fat, rosy things, hopelessly undistinguishable
from each other. Gertrude duly admired them ; and then her
own baby was taken possession of by the good-tempered-looking
nurse, to be fed and put to sleep, whilst its mother was dragged
off to see the remaining household gods of Mrs. Greenway's
i: hearth and home." First, they went to Mrs. Greenway's bed-
room, there to take off their things, and to take the opportunity
of looking at the grand wardrobe, and all Mrs. Greenway's best
dresses and last new bonnet ; her wedding dress was exhibited —
stone-colonred satin, with elaborate trimmings of blue gimp.

" Sam declares that this dress shall never be worn out or
altered, for it broaght him the happiest day of his life. Do you

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 213

know we have never had a wrong: word together since we were
married. I am sure I think he grows better every day. Don't
you call him very handsome ? "

Gertrude said she thought Mr. Greenway very good-looking ;
it was no great stretch of candour.

" Here is his wedding waistcoat, which I say shall keep my
gown company ; it is many a day since he could make it meet
round him. But now come and see the parlours."

The dining-room was a large, low room, with a raftered
ceiling and bow window ; a dark, heavy mahogany dining-table
with many legs stood in the centre of the room; a Turkey
carpet, with the pattern somewhat worn out, covered the floor ;
a large pointer was basking before the fire, whilst a tortoise-
shell cat dozed and purred in one of the large easy chairs which
stood on each side of the hearth-rugv Portraits of Mr. and
Mrs. Greenway hung against the wall.

Mr. Greenway was reading a letter, with his name and address
legibly written on the back. Mrs. Greenway, seated under a
tree, in a hat and feathers, was reading a book bound in red and
lettered in gold, — " Fordyce's Sermons to Young Women."

But the "best parlour" was the pride of her heart; it was on
the other side of the tile-paved hall — a Ioav bow- windowed room
with a raftered ceiling, like its companion.

It had been new furnished on the occasion of their marriage,
and there was a certain air of modern finery about it. The
curtains were bright blue, trimmed with red and yellow ball
fringe ; a pair of pole-screens stood at either end of the chimney-
piece — one represented a young lady in a tight muslin frock
and blue sash, playing the tambourine, and the other the same
young lady feeding a pet lamb. The hearth-rug was the com-
bined work of the three Miss Slocums — a tiger's head sur-

214 THE SORSOWS OF GENTILITY.

rounded by sprigs of roses. The carpet was covered with red,
blue, and yellow flowers, as like nature as could be expected,
when every flower was blazoned in its wrong colours. A scrap-
screen — a piano — a stuffed fox — a small bookcase with glass
doors — a hard grecian-shaped couch, covered with blue moreen,
and trimmed with yellow cord — whilst the chairs, cushions, and
footstools were to match.

Mrs. Greenway was quite satisfied that her " best parlour "
was equal, if not superior, to any other in England ; but she
chose to be modest, and said, —

" I suppose in London, among' the quality there, this room
would be thought quite shabby ? — would it not now ? "

Gertrude tried to conciliate the truth with the household
pride of her companion.

" Do people sit every day in their best parlours ? " asked Mrs.
Greenway again.

" Mrs. Donnelly only used ours on the day3 when she received
visitors."

" Do tell me about your house — what was it like ? and how
was your best parlour furnished ? " said Mrs. Greenway eagerly.

Gertrude began to comply, but Mrs. Greenway was far too
full of herself and her own concerns to care much for listening-.
Moreover, Mr. Greenway came in from his fields, and it was
dinner time.

Mr. Greenway greeted Gertrude with hearty cordiality ; he
•seemed to be very proud of his wife, and asked Gertrude if she
thought her changed from what she was as Martha Slocum.

Mrs. Greenway appeared to take great interest in what her
husband had been about during the morning, and to know
almost as much of farming matters as he did himself. Mr.
, Greenway appeared to have a high opinion of his wife's judg-

T.1\Z SOESO'V'3 OP GENTILITY. 215

ment. They were very happy, so thoroughly contented, with
themselves and each other.

Gertrude had never been in su.ch a warm, genial, domestic
atmosphere in her life : they were a well-matched pair.

After dinner the babies were all brought down, and Mr.
Greenway left the two ladies to compare nursery notes, whilst
he went bach to the field to superintend his men, his wife calling'
after him to bid him come back early, as the people were coming-
at four o'clock.

After he was gone, Mrs. Greenway gave Gertrude all the
details about her marriage, and indulged in a few natural reflec-
tions and observations upon her husband's relations, displaying
a little human and feminine jealousy of his sisters, who at first
had been inclined to think that she had made a better match
than their brother; but the bickerings were very slight, and
they did not hate each other very much — for sisters-in-law.

Two of the Miss Greenways arrived shortly after. They
were older than Mrs. Greenway — stout, good-looking1 young-
women, with a decided way of expressing their opinions ; they
evidently were accustomed to be considered the sensible women
of the neighbourhood. They were disposed to be very civil to
Gertrude, but were much more disposed to talk of their own
subjects than to hear about fresh ones; and as Gertrude had
been trained to be a good listener; they g'ot on together
extremely well.

Mrs. Slocum and her youngest daughter arrived the next.
She was kind and motherly, and nursed Gertrude's baby.

The vicar, with his wife and daughter, came in. The doctor
and his maiden sister followed, a lady with light hair and blue
eyes, who had been both pretty and accomplished, though never
very sensible; she still had an air of juvenility, like a well-

216 THE SOKROWS OP GENTILITY.

preserved winter apple. She was certainly past fifty, but still
was a pretender to matrimony, and it was said was extremely
well-disposed to smile on Mr. Conran, the solicitor, of Dunning-
ton. There was also Miss Blackmore, an elderly maiden lady of
strong masculine habits and tastes, who had convicted three
men, and caused them to be transported, by her evidence on a
trial for poaching. She had once shot a robber, and she rode
about the country on horseback alone. She was a lady of
ancient family, of which she was very proud. She farmed her
own land, knew as much law as any J. P. on the bench, and
was looked upon as one of the gentlemen of the neighbour,
hood.

She despised female conversation about servants and children;
so that, after cross-questioning Gertrude by way of commencing
acquaintance, she relapsed into silence, and reserved her social
talents until some other gentleman should arrive.

Amongst the guests was a man who had formerly been very
much in love with Gertrude ; but he had been an awkward, shy,
silent youth, and Gertrude had maltreated him in proportion to
the power he gave her. His father was a tanner, and Gertrude
would have nothing to say to a man in her own sphere of life;
but it had been with him another version of " Cymon and
Iphigenia." Gertrude's elegance and beauty had awakened in
the youth a perception of grace and refinement. He had
cultivated his mind, and had expended a legacy of two hundred
pounds in procuring for himself some classical learning under
an Oxford graduate, and in gathering a small library. He had
now succeeded to his father's business, and was a thriving man
— the best parti roidant in the neighbourhood; but he showed
no disposition to marry. He had a kind, quiet voice, and a
singularly unobtrusive manner. He met Gertrude like an old

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 217

friend, without either consciousness or embarrassment. He sat
beside her, and talked of old times.

Gertrude had been proud, discontented, and miserable in those
days, but now it was great comfort to speak about them, and
to recal a portion of the life that she had thrown away before
she knew its value. One great source of her suffering, though
she was scarcely aware of it, had in reality arisen from being
S3parated from all who had belonged to her early life — that
despised life to which she now looked back with such regretful
yearning.

Mrs. Greenway came up to her with vivacity, and took hold of
her arm, saying, with what she intended to be playful raillery*

" Well, upon my honour ! If that is the London fashion in
which you married women talk to young men, we must look
about us all. We are going into the other room to tea now, —
you are not going to keep our best bachelor all to yourself.
Mr. George, off with you, and attend to those girls. I shall not
let you come near Gertrude again all the evening. I shall warn
her husband against you !"

A scene of much giggling and some confusion now took
place before everybody was seated at the tea-table, — which was
covered with piles of muffins and crumpets, buns, maccaroons,
and queen cakes.

Mr. Augustus and Simon Morley made their appearance.
Mrs. Greenway, who was on remarkably good terms with her-
self that evening, and who considered she had great powers of
" quizzing," told Mr. Augustus of his wife's " goings on," as she
called them. Mr. Augustus showed his charming versatility;
he suited himself to his company, and made himself so
fascinating that all the ladies considered Gertrude rather
unworthy of having such a husband.

218 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

The gentle— en, too, thought him a pleasant fellow. After
playing one rubber in superior style, he deserted the whist table
for the noisy and laughing round ^garne that was going on in
another corner. — where his jokes and witticisms and compli-
ments were beyond anything ever heard before. The vicar'a
daughter ashed him if he were a military officer, to which he
replied, " ~So, but his father had been in the navy, which might
account for her question ! " The laughing caused by this
repartee was enough to have rewarded all the wit for sis
months at a club.

A hot supper followed, which differed in nothing from a
dinner; it was done justice to. " Something warm before they
went out into the air " followed this ; and at ten o'clock cloaks
and wrappings wove sought up.

Simon Morley had ordered a chaise to come for Gertrude, and
into it were crammed all the ladies whose homes lay towards
Dunnington. Simon Morley and the men preferred walking.
Mr. Greenway attended his guests to the outer gate, and, with
reiterated " good nights," the party at last separated.

Simon Morley and Mr. Augustus reached home as soon as
Gertrude, who had to set everybody down at their doors. The
coach gates were closed, and only a sleepy stable-boy remained
up to receive the horses. Mrs. Simon had retired for the night,
at which her husband greatly rejoiced; but he found her wide
awake when he got up-stairs. He was thankful to put out his
candle, and pull the bed-clothes over his ears, to shut out the
sound of her observations.

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITS". 219

CHAPTER XXXVJ I.

" Well," said Simon Morley at breakfast the next morning
helping himself to a large pjece of pigeon-pie, " I must say I
think Mrs. Greenway is as nice a woman as ever stepped !
I wonder, wife, you and she have not been better friends — so
kind and friendly, and so pleasant-spoken as sbe is. I don't
know when I have enjoyed myself better than I did last night,
I say, we must invite the Greenways here — we might make up
a nice party of old friends now Ger. is come to help you
entertain them."

" Very well, Mr. Simon M :rley ; if you wish to begin keeping
company and giving suppers, cf course you can do so — perhaps
you would like to have a ball too ? "

"That is not a bad notion," rejoined her husband. "We
have more room than they have at Lane End. What is that
great assembly-room for that we should not have some good
out of it?"

" Certainly," said Mrs. Simon, sarcastically, " and maybe you
will ask all the people in the town to fill it ; pray do so, if you
feel inclined." Then turning* to Gertrude, she said, " I know
your objections to sitting in the bar, pray do you think it neces-
sary to stop to keep me company. You are used to seeing none
but quality, and I cannot do with idlers here ; so you had better

220 THE SOBEOWS OP GENTILITY.

sit at your embroidery upstairs, in the nursery, and if any
visitors come they may be shown in to you."

Gertrude coloured painfully. " I will sit in whatever room
you choose ; but, if you are busy, is there nothing I can do to
help you?"

"Oh dear no, thank you," said Mrs. Simon, with a little sharp
laugh. " Ton would be quite out of your element here noiv,
and your mother would never forgive such a thing — she thinks
you ought to be put under a glass case, and kept to look at."

" Say no more, Ger.," said Mr. Augustus, rather crossly, but
go and sit wherever Mrs. Simon wishes ; it is not for you to be
making objections."

" Ger. does not like to be moped," added Mr. Simon ; " she
shall come out and have a ride with me. We will go and see
the hounds throw off."

Mrs. Simon's thin lips were drawn into a fixed smile ; her
cold grey eyes looked out into the perspective of the china-
closet that opened out of the bar.

" Thank you, Simon," said Gertrude ; " but you forget the
baby. Mrs. Simon's nurse could scarcely manage the two of
them. I think I cannot go with you this morning."

" Besides, Gertrude is quite out of practice ; she would only
break her neck or lame the horse," interposed Mr. Augustus,
with an air of matrimonial authority. " You cannot do better,
Gertrude, than put yourself under Mrs. Simon's guidance
whilst you remain here, and follow her advice in all things,
as I intend to do," he added, with a supplementary glance that
made the virtuous Mrs. Simon feel convinced that she was a
very superior woman, and that Mr. Augustus did justice to
her excellences.

Gertrude obeyed and left the room. The nurse, either

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 221

prompted by Mrs. Simon or instigated by a sense of her own
convenience, asked Gertrude to hold her baby, to which, of
course, Gertrude consented.

This day was the beginning of months to Gertrude ; it fixed
her position as dependent upon Mrs. Simon. Of course the
nurse could not be expected to wash another baby's things in
addition, so Gertrude washed and ironed for her own baby.
She was awkward at first, but she soon learned. It was no
great hardship in itself, but the nurse was systematically dis-
obliging, and seemed to consider her as much an intruder in her
nursery as Mrs. Simon did when she went down stairs.

All Gertrude's old acquaintance made a point of calling upon
her — but they made remarks at being shown into the
nursery, and as Mrs. Simon had conceived she had some cause
of feud with most of the families in the town, she contrived to
make Gertrude feel that it was very disagreeable to have so
many people coming about the house who had no business
there.

The party that had been projected by her husband was after
a short time adopted by Mrs. Simon, who did not see " why she
might not hold her head as high as Mrs. Greenway if she
chose," and she did choose to do so on this occasion.

Everybody accepted their invitation. Mrs. Simon, in an
unusually good humour and the consciousness of a new satin
gown, made herself extremely pleasant — as most ill-tempered
people can, when they have a mind. Mr. Augustus was inde-
fatigable in his attentions, and she was proud to show off her
handsome brother-in-law, " whose father had been an admiral,
whose uncle was a baronet, and who himself was expecting an
office under government ;" he stood in quite a different position
to his wife. Gertrude played country dances for them, and

222 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

exerted herself to amuse the company — but all she did was
received as a matter of course, and everybody felt quite free to
criticise all she said and did, and to find that she was " proud,"
"conceited," "insincere," and "very affected;" whilst Mrs.
Matley, the rich draper's wife, declared to her nearest neigh-
bour, " that Mrs. Donnelly's dress was shamefully extravagant,
that it must have cost at least ten guineas without the making
— and that she wore a lace shawl fit for a duchess." This
was quite true.

Gertrude wore the silk dress which her husband had given
her at the christening, and the shawl was the lace-veil he had
given her at the same time ; — she had made up the dress her-
self— which the worthy Mrs. Matley never dreamed of suspect-
ing-, and when she inveighed against the folly and wickedness
of " people in Mrs. Donnelly's circumstances " spending so
much money on dress, she never reflected that it might possibly
have been brought ln-fore the " circumstances " besfan.

The party, however, was none the less pleasant because Mrs.
Donnelly was there to find food for scandal and gossip ; — it
raised Mrs. Simon's popularity. Nobody had ever imagined
she could be " so pleasant."

To elate from thn party, everybody in Dunnington was fully
alive to the fact " that poor Mr. Donnelly had been brought to
ruin bj' the extravagance of his wife."

Keports of her wastfulness, her extravagance, her love of
dress and company, were abroad, until everybody felt them-
selves immeasurably better, and wiser, and more prudent than
poor Gertrude, to say nothing of being much " better off," —
which is a cardinal virtue everywhere.

It is always pleasant to find that people's misfortunes have
been brought upon themselves, and that Providence in its di.s-

THE SORROWS OF GEXT;Lir7. 223

pensations has only " served them right ;" because when they are
objects of compassion it is the imperative duty of their friends
to assist them, which is often inconvenient and generally
disag'reeable ; indeed, it is always expensive to maintain a
virtue at one's own cost — there is a natural instinct to set it up
at the expense of others — and it is a moral duty not to interfere
in a case that is to serve the sufferers "for a lesson as long as
they live ! "

Gertrude's old acquaintance became patronising when they
were not cool ; but their patronage brought no results beyond
inviting her to dine or to drink tea with them, that they might
see her dresses, and obtain patterns of her sleeves and collars,
and hear what was the fashion in London, for which she was
rewarded by being- abused for her " shameful love of dress,"
and her husband was proportionately pitied for being tied to
such an extravagant, helpless woman."

Mrs. Greenway was the best friend Gertrude had ; she really
liked her old playfellow, and she stood up stoutly for her
when she heard her abused, and she was constantly coming to
fetch Gertrude and the baby to spend the day with her. But
Mrs. Greenway was a coarse, prosperous woman, and far too
full of herself and her own concerns to be able to feel any
sympathy with Gertrude's trials ; she patronised her extremely
and ostentatiously, until even her good nature was scarcely
sufficient to redeem the coarseness — she spoke of her as " poor
Mrs. Donnelly," and wondered to see " Gertrude Morley's high
spirit so come down." Women certainly have the gift of
tormenting each other beyond what any dispensation of Provi-
dence can effect-
As to Mr. Augustus, he found himself as comfortable as ever
he had been in his life. There was plenty of the best to eat

224 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

and drink ; there was plenty of coursing and shooting-, and as
he was a good shot, and fond of field sports, he was very
popular amongst the men, he had the use of any horse in his
brother-in-law's stables ; he often rode to cover, and having a
dexterous impudence and a rambling acquaintance with a
variety of persons, he contrived, on the strength of " mutual
intimate friends," to pick up an acquaintance with several
members of the hunt, — who not only invited him to dinner, but
occasionally to stop at their country houses, if they had a party
that wanted enlivening. His good jokes, songs, and stories,
all made somewhat broader to suit his meridian, made him a
valuable guest at a dinner-table, when country neighbours and
country squires were to be entertained, and golden opinions
laid by against the great day of a future election.

"When at home there was as much smoking and drinkinsr to
be had as he chose, and plenty of company, for he was voted to
be " the life and soul of every party." He drew plenty of
loungers into the bar, or, when Mrs. Simon was in one of her
sharp-edged tempers, he sat in the little market parlour, No. 2 ;
where Simon Morley junior sat with them much oftener and
longer than was consistent with the prosecution of his business.

Mrs. Simon continued to be very proud of her brother-in-law,
and he could manage her better than any one else, though she
often tried to make him feel her temper; but as he was
profoundedly indifferent, and not at all troubled with
delicate feelings, it was quite out of her power to annoy
him; indeed, her attempts to do so always recoiled upon
herself.

He was so useful to her on all great emergencies, such as
rent-days, clubs, and public dinners, that she grew at last to be
afraid of displeasing him, and listened to his opinion with a

THE SOEEOWS OP GENTILITY. 225

deference that delighted her husband, who enjoyed seeing her
" brought to reason," as he called it.

Mr. Augustus was, moreover, a capital judge of horses and
dogs — he was also a first-rate horse doctor ; he was conse-
quently an authority in the stable-yard, and much looked up to
by the grooms, ostlers, and postboys who congregated there.

Simon Morley was thankful to have so pleasant a companion
and so useful an ally ; he would have made Augustus welcome
to live with him all the rest of his life ; and even Mrs. Simon,
stingy as she was by nature, and little addicted to giving away
anything, made him frequent presents — indeed, he had the
secret of coaxing her out of anything he wished.

His social talents were once on the point of bringing him a
substantial return. Sir Willoughby Bethel, a rich baronet,
whom he had frequently met out hunting, and at various dinner-
parties, offered him the situation of his land steward at a hand-
some salary; but the blood of all the Donnellys rose at the
idea of being any man's servant and taking wages. Moreover,
the situation would have required no inconsiderable exercise of
industry, exactness, activity, and various other somewhat
fatiguing virtues, with which the incomparable Augustus
scarcely felt himself endowed ; he therefore declined the
situation with the air of a prince, and declared that he had
been requested "to hold himself in readiness to receive a
government appointment."

16

226 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITT.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

Poor Gertrude had to pay the penalty of her husband's im-
munity. There is nothing gratuitous in the world — payment is
rigorously exacted some time or other — and it was from Ger-
trude that Mrs. Simon repaid herself for the complacency she
showed to Mr. Augustus. Mr. Augustus told his wife, with
great indignation, of the offer he had received to become Sir
Willoughby's land agent; and he calmed his offended dignity
by a few expletives at the insolence of any man asking the like
of him to become his out-door servant to collect his rents.

" But, dear Augustus, the salary would have been very hand-
some, and you might still have accepted a government situation
if one should have offered ; do you think you were quite wise
to refuse a certainty? It is so miserable living dependent
here."

" I wish, Gertrude, you would talk about what you under-
stand. Do you think it is fit or right for the like of me to
demean myself by taking a bailiff's place ? But it is because
you have no good blood in you, or you would not think of such
a thing for me."

" It would be far more honourable than to live here dependent
on my brother," said Gertrude, firmly. " Have you any plans
at all, or do you expect to go on living here for ever? I do

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 227

not see how we can do that ; we have no right to be a burden
to the family."

" You are mighty delicate," said her husband, scornfully.
" Why should you not go to your own side of the house ? Your
people are rich enough, and what have they ever done for you,
or for me either, beyond giving us these few months' board ? I
am not going to turn out till it suits my arrangements. If
you could only humour Mrs. Simon, and give in to her a little,
you might be as comfortable as the day is long ; but you have
such a bad temper that you can live with nobody."

" How have I ever shown rny temper, Augustus ? " asked
Gertrude, her eyes filling with tears.

" Yes, you may look ; but you have a bad temper. You could
not agree with my mother and Sophy, and now you quarrel
with Mrs. Simon because she does not flatter you, and is just a
little sharp in her ways."

" But, Augustus, what right have we to expect my brother to
support us in idleness ? Will you at least write to your uncle
about that place you said he would ask for you ? I should feel
then as if we were trying to do something to help ourselves."

" I would thank you to mind your own business, and not to be
bothering me. I suppose I know my own concerns, and can
manage them without your help. I should never have been
here at all if it had not been for you."

Mr. Augustus took up his hat and went up the street, ex-
tremely ruffled at his wife's pertinacity and want of considera-
tion for his feellings. Gertrude, left alone, leaned her head
upon her arms and wept bitterly; they were tears of humilia-
tion and hopelessness. Her husband had never so spoken to her
before. She had hitherto cherished a faint hope that Augustus
would take some steps to extricate himself from his difficulties ;
I6—2

228 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

she had believed him to be only thoughtless and idle— now she
recognised him as worthless. His entire want of all energy
and independence — his entire indifference to her comfort — his
unkindness — all combined to make this the very bitterest
moment she had yet known. The last relic of matrimonial
superstition was swept away, and she felt an unmitigated con-
tempt for Mr. Augustus Donnelly, which, however, her own con-
science turned into a still more bitter self-contempt and self-
condemnation.

" I should never have been here if it had not been for you."
It was quite true this — she had no one but herself to blame ; if
she had done her duty to her parents, she would not have been
left thus helpless and miserable; she had despised her home,
and now she was justly despised and destitute of any home to
call her own. Her tears gradually ceased to flow ; her own
disobedience and ingratitude, the vanity and discontent of her
conduct, were presented to her mind with the strong, stern
emphasis of conscience ; she was " filled with the fruit of her
own ways," and her punishment was no more than she deserved.

No sooner was this conviction forced upon her, than she
became conscious of a great calm. She ceased to pity herself;
she accepted her punishment, and a strong patience filled her
heart. She felt that, to be all that was left for her, the only
expiation she could make for the sin that had lain at the root of
her life. Light had arisen upon her darkness. She knelt
down ; she was not conscious of using any words, but with her
whole heart she surrendered herself, desiring only that thence-
forth she might not desire to do her own will, but to do what-
' ever duty might be laid upon her.

It was the beginning of a new life for Gertrude. All out-
ward things remained as they had been, but the spirit with

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY. 229

which she regarded them was changed, and from that moment
she had taken her first step in a better life.

She looked round to see what there was that she could do.
At first it struck her as a bright thought that she might set up
as a milliner and dressmaker, for she had great taste, and was
not without skill, having for some time past made up all her
own dresses ; but when she spoke of it to her husband, he flew
into a passion, and declared that " no wife of his should manty-
make for a parcel of farmers' wives," and bade her not attempt
such a thing at her peril.

Gertrude acquiesced, and contented herself for the moment
with making up a handsome purple satin for Mrs. Simon, which
her husband had given her as a fairing; he gave Gertrude a
dress at the same time, of much commoner materials, which
had greatly raised his wife's jealously, and she grumbled at his
extravagance for a month.

Gertrude waited patiently for some opening. Little Cla-
rissa progressed from a baby into an engaging and lovely
child.

Mrs. Moi'ley had kept Gertrude supplied with money, but
she did it under difficulties, inasmuch as her husband was very
suspicious, and constantly declared that " until that lazy, worth-
less hound, turned his hand to work, he should not see one six-
pence of his money."

" But, Simon, what can he do ? He has never been brought
up to work."

" More's the pity, then. He might turn a wheel, if he could
do nothing better; but he is born lazy, and would any day
rather beg than work. I wonder he is not ashamed to live on
Simon and his wife. I desire you give neither him nor Ger-
trude money. She is every bit as bad as he is."

230 THE SOEEOWa OP GENTILITY.

Poor Mrs. Morley made no reply; but she helped her
daughter secretly.

The opportunity Gertrude was looking for came at last.

The young woman who assisted Mrs, Simon left somewhat
suddenly, in consequence of a violent altercation with Mrs.
Simon, in which both parties had indulged themselves in the
luxury of " speaking their minds," which is generally a
hazardous process, something like meddling with fireworks. It
happened, inconveniently enough, that Mrs. Simon was looking
forwards to her confinement in a short time. She was in a
dilemma where to turn for another assistant, but she scorned
the idea of attempting to propitiate the offended Hebe. Ger-
trude offered to fill her place, at least until Mrs. Simon should
have leisure to suit herself better.

The spirit in which a thing is done always makes itself felt.
Gertrude made her offer with genuine good feeling, and the
hearty desire that it should be accepted. Mrs. Simon felt the
spell, though she tossed back her head with a little scornful
laugh, and said — •

" Well, to be sure ! Who would ever have thought
of your doing- such a thing? I am sure I don't ask
you to demean yourself. Of course you cannot expect to
understand the business, and I would much prefer a regular
servant."

But Gertrude pleaded that she recollected her mother's
method, and that Mrs. Simon might soon train her. She
besides expressed her wish to do something to requite the
hospitality that had been shown to them all. Gertrude asked it
as a favour — Mrs. Simon granted it as such..

Gertrude resumed with thankfulness the position which four
years previously she had thrown off so impatiently, but .she

THIS SOEROWS OF GENTILITT. 231

" wore lier rue witb. a difference ; " it was Mrs. Simon, and not
her mother, whom she now served.

The great difference was, however, in Gertrude herself, and
the altered spirit in which she accepted the situation which had
formerly cost her such an agony of pride and false shame.
Gertrude exerted herself heartily to become an efficient assistaut
to Mrs. Simon, and she succeeded.

During that worthy lady's confinement Gertrude managed
the business in a manner that highly delighted her brother, and
which filled poor Mrs. Morley, who came over for a few days,
with admiration and regret. To see her Gertrude a servant in
what had been her father's house pained her bitterly; but
although she wept over the matter with Mrs. Slocum, she had
the strength of mind to say nothing to Gertrude, except to give
her all the practical advice and help she could with her own
experience in the business.

Gertrude exerted herself to seem happy and comfortable be-
fore her mother, and indeed she felt much happier than she
had been for many months.

Mr. Augustus made no objection to this state of things. He
fondly hoped that people would not understand the arrange-
ment, and it removed any scruple he might entertain about
settling himself in peace until the " government " situation
should restore him from his state of social eclipse.

By degrees Gertrude reaped the natural result of her con-
duct. She had ceased to look at her position through the eyes
of other people, and she was surprised to find how completely
that took the sting out of her mortifications ; for we could all
bear what actually befals us, if it were not for the idea of what
other people would think of it.

When Mrs. Simon got about again, she could not resist the

23:

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITV.

malicious pleasure of trying to humiliate Gertrude as much as
possible ; especially she insisted upon her attending to all the
carriage visitors, in the hope that she might chance to meet
with some of her old acquaintance amongst them ; but Gertrude
had once for all accepted her position, and she had lost all
desire to be thought different from what she really was. She
lost nothing in real refinement, it was only vanity and the love
of appearances which had been burnt out of her nature.

When everybody in Dunnington had thoroughly informed
themselves about her circumstances, and when everyone had
made all the remarks, wise and foolish, that occurred to them,
and had sat in judgment until they were somewhat weary of
pronouncing " their decided opinion," they ceased to talk about
her, or at least much moderated " the rancour of their tongues ;"
and Gertrude felt herself much happier than when she was " the
beautiful Miss Morley," the toast of the neighbourhood, and the
expected heiress of a handsome fortune; but when, at the same
time, she was ashamed of her parents, disgusted with her home,
and only anxious to get away at all hazards,

THE SOEROW§ OF GENTILITY. 233

CHAPTER XXXIX.

A GOOD clergyman once said, " that when persons have once
set themselves to learn the lesson their trials are intended to
teach, they are delivered from them ; but not until they have be-
come perfectly patient and willing' to endure."

Gertrude had pretty well reached this point; she and her
husband had been somewhere about a year and a half inmates
of the " Metringham Arms," when one day a letter came to
Augustus from old Mrs. Donnelly. After the break up of
affairs, the old lady had cleverly avoided paying any of the debts
(all the bills being made out to Augustus) ; she had even, by
dint of romantic misrepresentations, softened the hearts of the
creditors, who believed her to be a victim as well as themselves.
She had removed her furniture to a warehouse, and taken refuge
with her daughter at a distant country-house, in the county of
Tipperary, belonging to her husband's brother, the baronet of
the family.

Here she learned the degraded and deplorable situation of her
son — living with an inn-keeper, his wife's brother, and liable to
be seen by all the nobility and gentry of his acquaintance tra-
velling that road !

When she had regained her self-possession, after the distress-
ing events which caused her departure from London, she ceased

234 THB SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

not to entreat and torment Sir Lucius Donnelly to exert him-
self to obtain some foreign appointment for his nephew.

People in this world obtain more by perseverance than by
any other quality; "the unjust steward," in the parable, is a
type of human nature — we will all do more for those who, by
their continual entreaty, " weary us," than for those who simply
deserve service at our hands ; and Mrs. Donnelly so effectually
wearied her brother-in-law, that, on one of his friends being
appointed governor of some settlement on the coast of Africa,
he asked him to take Augustus Donnelly as secretary, and to
make himself generally useful.

The governor, who was going into honourable exile on ac-
count of his debts, made no difficulty in assenting to the pro-
posal ; in fact, he was very glad at the prospect of having such
a "jolly dog" to share in such a dismal expedition.

Mrs. Donnelly was a proud and happy woman the day she
could write to her son that he was appointed private secretary to
his Excellency Sir Simon Bulrush, Governor of Fort-Fever
Point, on the coast of Calabar. It did not distress this Roman
mother that her son, the peerless Augustus, would in all pro-
bability die the first thing after reaching his ominously-named
station, and be buried, by way of taking possession of his post.
It was, in her opinion, infinitely better that he should die an
"honourable secretary," than live in obscure disgrace at a
country inn.

" Hang it, Ger. ! " said Mr. Augustus, tossing the letter to his
wife, " the old lady seems to take it very coolly ; but I don't see
the fun of leaving comfortable quarters to go and die of yellow
fever, and be food for land crabs at a place I never heard of
when I learned geography. I shall make free to decline my
uncle's valuable appointment."

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 235

"Have you the hope of anything better?" said Gertrude,
sadly. " Lord Southend seems to . have forgotten yon, and we
cannot live here always. I would inquire about it at least be-
fore refusing it."

" I shall do whatever I please, without reference to your sage
opinioa, so you need not trouble yourself to advise me," said
Mr. Augustus with ineffable dignity, and, putting' on his hat,
whistled to a pointer, and sauntered across the yard. He found
himself, as we have said, very comfortable indeed, and he had
no notion of perilling his valuable life by going to the coast of
Africa. He swore at his uncle for not obtaining him something
better, and had determined to stand out for some other " stroke
of fortune ;" but something occurred in the course of the day to
alter his determination.

Resigned as Gertrude had become to her lot, this sudden
prospect of independence for her husband, and the probability
of its being refused by his fatuity, was too much for her equa-
nimity; and she went up to her room and cried heartily, the
first comfort of the kind she had indulged in for some months.

She was aroused by the voice of Mr. Simon calling upon her
name with great asperity of tone. She hastily started up, and,
descending to the bar, found there had been an influx of car-
riages all requiring post horses for the next stage ; some of the
inmates stopping to lunch, and others impatient to proceed.
The family in No. 4 wanted their bill, and the gentleman in
No. 6 was complaining of an overcharge. Mrs. Simon was in
the worst of all possible humours ; and, as she did not venture
to scold the servants, she vented it on Gertrude.

Gertrude set to work to reduce the confusion that reigned
into sonlething like order ; she pacified the indignant gentle-
man, and expedited the post-boys, and had forgotten her own

23(3 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

immediate affairs, when she was startled to see Augustus,
flushed and hurried, stride into the house and proceed upstairs.
There he took refuge in the nursery, the door of which he
locked after him.

The nurse and children were preparing for a walk, and were
terrified out of their senses when Mr. Augustus entered so
abruptly; and their alarm was not diminished by seeing him
proceed to conceal himself in the closet.

" Goodness gracious, sir ! what is the matter ?"
" Go and tell Gertrude, Mrs. Donnelly, that I must speak to
her immediately ; do not let any one hear you ; lock the door,
and take the key with you ; never mind the children, you can
fetch them afterwards."

But the nurse was not going to abandon her precious charge.
She unlocked the door, and took them with her, getting out of
the room as expeditiously as possible.

Gertrude was in the bar, speaking to the gentleman who had
complained of being overcharged.

" Please, ma'am, Mr. Donnelly is upstairs in the nursery, and
would be glad to see you. I think you had best go directly, or
he may do himself a mischief. I declare he quite frightened
me by the way he came in.

" I also should be glad to see Mr. Donnelly," said the gentle-
man ; " so you had best tell him to come down, as I shall not
leave the house until I have had some conversation with
him."

But poor Gertrude looked so alarmed and distressed that the
gentleman said, C1 1 am very sorry to cause you any distress,
madam ; your husband has no doubt already recognised me as
a — creditor ; my coming was purely accidental, but I shall not
leave without seeing him. His best plan will be to come imme-

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 237

diately ; no doubt there is a private room where we may settle
our business."

" Indeed we have had no money since we left London," said
Gertrude, earnestly.

" Possibly not," said the other, drily. " Mr. Donnelly is a
gentleman who seldom has money when it comes to paying ;
but you had best go to him, or he will fancy some mischief is
preparing ; you may tell him that I mean him no harm."

238 THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITT.

CHAPTER XL.

Scarcely able to support herself, Gertrude hastened upstairs
to the nursery. The room was empty ! " Augustus, where are
you ? " she called ; but there was no answer. " Augustus ! "
called she in a louder tone, whilst a sickening apprehension, of
she knew not what, made her scarcely able to articulate. After
a moment the closet-door opened and showed the pale face of
Augustus.

" What an infernal time you have been." said he, " and what
a noise you make. Is he gone ? "

" No ; he says he knows yor^and must see you ; but that he
means you no harm, and did not come on purpose."

" Confound the fellow," muttered Augustus, " he will set the
whole pack on me now, and so snug as I have been from them
all! Was there ever such a piece of ill-luck?"

In a short time, however, he allowed himself to be soothed
and persuaded into descending to meet his creditor.

" You stay with me, Ger. ; he will be afraid of threatening
too much before you : and mind you stand up to all I say."

The " creditor " in question was a wine and spirit merchant
to whom Augustus owed 120Z., and for which he had given his
note of hand, which had already been renewed more than once.
He was walking up and down the room, with his hands in his

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 239

pockets, and looked very gloomy ; but creditors, with so slender
a chance of being paid, cannot be expected to have pleasant
countenances.

Augustus met him with a bravado of frankness which was
awkward enough.

" Now perhaps the lady will retire, as I in no wise wish to
hurt the feelings of any female ; and you are aware you have
not behaved as a gentleman ought."

Gertrude petitioned to stay, and Augustus declared he had no
secrets from his wife.

A long and stormy interview followed. At first the wine
merchant, who had learned the relationship, and knowing the
Morleys, father and son, to be people of substance, thought they
would be responsible for him ; he refused to listen to any terms
except the money down.

At length, however, Gertrude in great despair brought in her
brother, entreating him to " save Augustus." In answer to that
appeal, he first put her quietly out of the room, and then con-
vinced the man that neither he nor his father would pay one
farthing of Mr. Augustus Donnelly's debts. The creditor
became more tractable, and, in consideration -of being promised
ten shillings in the pound, to be paid out of Mr. Augustus
Donnelly's first salary, which was guaranteed by Simon Morley,
he consented to compound the debt, and to keep the secret
of his whereabouts from every one. He thought it highly
problematical whether there would be ever a second quarter to
receive.

This incident of course dispelled any doubts that Mr.
Augustus might have entertained about accepting the situation.
He wrote a grateful letter to his uncle, entreating assistance for
his outfit. As there was now every prospect of finally getting'

240

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

rid of him, his uncle sent him twenty-five pounds and a
prescription for the yellow fever.

Old Mrs. Donnelly, who, with all her sins, really loved her
son, sent him ten pounds more ; and Miss Sophia sent him half-
a-dozen pair of Limerick gloves towards his outfit, and begged
he would not fail to collect some gold dust, ostrich feathers, and
elephants' teeth, " as curiosities for her cabinet."

THE SORROWS OF GBNTILITT. 241

CHAPTER XLI.

When the news that Mr. Augustus was appointed to go with
a real governor out to Africa spread through Dunnington, there
were diversities of opinion on the subject, but it made Mr.
Augustus himself into a hero, and he had to go through quite a
course of farewell hospitalities.

Mrs. Simon was perplexed in her mind. She was very sorry
to lose Augustus — it was gall and wormwood to think that
Gertrude would be raised to a position so far above her own ;
but then, it was some consolation to reflect that she would lose
her beautiful complexion in such a climate, and would look quite
an old woman when she returned.

" Of course Gertrude will go along with her husband," was
the remark of everybody in Dunnington.

"I suppose your mother will take charge of your child?"
said old Mrs. Slocum to her.

" I have not the least intention of leaving my child," replied
Gertrude, quietly. "Augustus is quite willing that I should
remain behind; indeed I do not suppose it is a place where
females could well go."

"But, my dear, do you think you are right to send your
husband where you would not go yourself? A wife's duty is
always to be with her husband and share his fortune. In my
11

242 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

young days, if Matthew Slocum had been going1 to the desert
where the children of Israel wandered for forty years and more,
I should have gone with him. I think it would be breaking
your marriage vow if you let him go out alone — your child
ought to come after your husband."

" But, Mrs. Slocum, Augustus does not want me ; I should
die out there. There is no accommodation for me. I should be
dreadfully in the way."

" No matter, my clear, it is your duty to follow your husband.
If you leave him, there is no saying what sin and mischief he
may not fall into ; and if he were to die, how you would reflect
upon yourself! Such a fine young man too, — and the father of
your child ! Nothing can excuse a woman from her duty to her
husband — it is like nothing else in the world."
Gertrude looked hot and annoyed, and said, —
" Well, Mrs. Slocum, whether it is my duty or not, I shall
not go to Africa. I shall stop at home, and do my duty by my
child."

"Ah!" sighed the curate's wife — ci-devant Miss Matilda
Slocum ; " but you know, Gertrude, that we are not to choose
oar duties, — and a wife's duty is so plain and easy "

Gertrude made no reply, and it was soon spread throughout
Dunnington that Gertrude was quite without feeling and was
going to desert her husband; the charitable feeling of the
neighbourhood ran so high in consequence, that many declared
that if her child were to die it would only be a punishment she
had deserved.

If the truth must be told, poor Mrs. Morley believed in this
code of conjugal devotion. A husband, in her eyes, was some-
thing sacred and peculiar ; he had ceased to be a man, and
was invested with mystical rights and attributes. She had

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 243

no doubt but that Gertrude would go, and she burst into
such a transport of grief when the news of the appointment
reached her, that her husband was moved from his usual
surly composure — he laid down his pipe, and said compas-
sionately,—

" Don't cry, missis, don't cry ; there is nothing to take on
about in that way that I can see."

" Oh Simon ! it is losing her twice over. I shall never live
to see her come back."

"But what should she go away for? I don't see why she
should not come back to us, when that husband of hers is fairly
gone, and a good riddance she will have of him. It does not
signify where he goes to — it is chaps like him who ought to be
sent to such places, and leave better folks at home; if he dies
he will be no loss to anybody."

" Oh, Simon, how can you talk so hard-hearted ; he is her
own husband ! "

" Aye, more's the pity ! But I'll tell you what — I will drive
over to Dunnington to-day, and see what Ger. says. If she will
stop behind, she shall have a home here, and the child too — and
I will never cast the past into her teeth again. Maybe I have
T3een too hard upon her sometimes. "When I have gone over
there lately I have seen her very handy in the bar, helping
Simon's wife ; she has lost that confounded pride that has been
her ruin."

Simon Morley was as good as his word, and that very after-
noon Gertrude saw her father drive into the yard in his old
yellow gig, drawn by his favourite horse Sharper.

He came straight into the bar, where Gertrude was busily
engaged in transferring some figures from a slate into her book.
Mrs. Simon received him with many demonstrations of welcome,
17-3

2ii THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY,

but Gertrude, after shaking hands with him, resumed her
occupation.

Mrs. Simon ensconced him in her own corner, and supplied
him with a pipe and a glass of hot rum and water ; but he did
not seem so amenable to her civilities as usual.

" Well, Ger.," said he, after he had smoked some time,
during which he had been watching her in silence ; " so your
husband's grand friends have made a gentleman of him
again ? "

" Yes — he has received an appointment, such as it is."

"Well, your mother has sent me over to fetch you and the
child — to stop with us whilst he is away. When do you reckon
you can come ? — when does he go ? "

" The time is not fixed yet, and perhaps Mrs. Simon may not
like to spare me till she meets with somebody else."

" Oh pray do not think of me," said Mrs. Simon, with a toss
of her head; you are not so precious as all that comes to — do
not let me stand in your way, I beg."

"You are quite right, missis; Ger. must come back to us,
and let us have some comfort of her. She has been a good
wench since she came here. I hate pride; but work never
shamed a-bocly yet — nought but idleness does that — and now
thou hast shown that thou art not above work thou art welcome
to home."

This speech rewarded Gertrude for all her troubles. Mr.
Augustus entered shortly after, and Simon Morley, with more
civility than might have been expected, repeated his proposal to
take Gertrude home.

Mr. Augustus, who had grown considerably grander since his
appointment, expressed himself like the fine gentleman he was,
and gave his gracious permission for Gertrude to remain at

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 245

The Cottage with her parents until he could send for her to
join him.

Stimulated with the prospect of getting rid of him for good,
Simon Morley presented his son-in-law with ten pounds towards
his outfit — so that the preparations of Mr. Augustus were on a
very comfortable scale. Gertrude had enough wifely feeling to
take pride in sending him away handsomely provided, and she
had even a sense of complacency in seeing how well he looked
in his new clothes.

She would have gone with him to Bristol, to see him on board
the ship, but Mr. Augustus preferred parting from her at Dun-
nington, observing "that they must begin to be saving now they
had the opportunity, and that they might as well save the money,
and part at the beginning of the journey instead of the end."

Few women become really hardened to indifference on the
part of their husbands ; there is a nerve in their heart that
quivers long after all love seems to have died out.

Gertrude sighed, and felt a pang of bitterness at this un-
conscious evidence of the entire absence of all affection for her,
but she hid it under a quiet face.

" As you please, Augustus ; you will write the last thing*, and
tell hid how you get on board."

" Of course I will. Keep your spirits up, and do get out of
this confounded place as soon as you can. I am endorsed
"on her Majesty's service" now, and this is not the sort of
thing for you any longer. I wonder how you have been able to
make a companion of Mrs. Simon so long ; you have no proper
pride in you."

Gertrude did not reply to this rational speech ; she had no
energy to waste in trying to reduce things to their logical con-
sistence.

246 .THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

The morning dawned upon which Mr. Augustus was to de-
part from Dunnington. Gertrude got up to give him an early-
breakfast. The chaise was to be at the door at five o'clock, to
take him to meet the Bristol mail.

Mr. Augustus was in charming spirits at the prospect of
getting away.

" Good bye, Ger. ; take care of yourself and the child. I will
send for you whenever there comes a stroke of fortune. Write
to me sometimes to say how you go on ; enclose your letters to
Sir Simon. And now good bye. I hope all my trunks are on
the chaise, and that you have forgotten nothing — good bye,
good bye."

And Mr. Augustus sprang into the chaise. Early as it was,
many heads were at the windows as he passed through the
town. He looked back, and saw Gertrude still standing look-
ing after him ; a turn in the street hid her from his sight. Mr.
Augustus went on his way too much rejoiced in being set free
from Dunnington to feel any tender regrets. Gertrude turned
to re-enter the house, with a mixed feeling of relief and bit-
terness.

The overstrain of fatigue and excitement had ceased. She
sat down and wept bitterly ; she was left belonging to nobodv,
and she felt very lonely. In the afternoon, however, her father
came to fetch her, and in the rejoicing her mother made over
her return she grew comforted, and forgot the past in the quiet
rest of being once more by her mother's side.

the sorrows op gentility. 247

CHAPTER XLII.

Mr. Augustus wrote from Bristol in the most charming
spirits ; he had joined Sir Simon Bulrush, with whom he was
enchanted. He spoke of " the good people at Dunnington"
with an air of elegant superciliousness which would have been
amusing to a stranger, but which gave Gertrude a bitter feel-
ing of contempt as she recollected the contented servility with
which he had nattered Mrs. Simon and lived upon her brother.

The fact was, that Mr. Augustus had thrown off the chrysalis
of obscurity, and had once more emerged into the " ampler ether
and diviner air " of polite society, towards which he filled pre-
cisely the same position which he had done in Dunnington.

A few hasty lines, written subsequently, told her that he had
embarked, and Gertrude was ashamed of the deep breath of
relief she drew when she was sure that he was fairly gone, and
that there would be no misgiving of any of the arrangements.

Mrs. Morley, who took it for granted that she must fret after
her husband, tried to cheer her up with homely comfort. Ger-
trude did not dare to tell how it was with her ; it would have
pained her mother, who loved the hard, harsh, griping* Simon
Morley with all her heart, because he was her husband. It is
painful to find how little our dearest friends know about us,

248 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITT.

even though we may have lived, as we imagine, transparently
before them.

" So near, and yet so far !"

" Have I been so long time with yon, and yet hast thou not
known me ? " is a question that rises frequently and mournfully
upon us all.

Mrs. Morley hoped that she was now at last going to live
happily and comfortably with Gertrude ; but, poor woman, the
early mistake she had made in Gertrude's training had done its
irrevocable work, making them totally unsuitable as compa-
nions. Gertrude had never been knitted in the bonds of home,
and there was a certain constraint and strangeness she could
never overcome. This was increased by the constant sense of
the sin she had committed against her parents ; the very anxiety
to atone for it gave her a sense of consciousness and effort;
whilst poor Mrs. Morley was so afraid Gertrude would be an-
noyed at different things, or, as she phrased it, " lest she should
not be content," that the poor woman was nearly worn to a
nervous fever.

As to Simon Morley, his ebullition of paternal hospitality
subsided soon to low-water mark. He felt the injustice of
having to support another man's family, and though he could
not call it a hardship, yet he gave grudgingly.

He never showed any affection for his little grandchild, but
as she went trotting about the room, he would take his pipe
from his lips and remark cynically, " that she would soon be old
enough to go out to service."

One day when she was sitting on her stool absorbed in the
pictures of " Dr. Watts's Hymns," which Mrs. Morley had
bought for sixpence from a pedlar, he reached across, and taking

TUB SORROWS OP GENTILITX 249

it out of her hand, flung it into the fire, saying, " she should
not be brought up to be bookish and fantastical ; one of that
sort in a family was enough."

Miss Clarissa set up a fit of crying, and went into a violent
passion on the loss of her book, whereupon Simon Morley's
temper and patience both gave way ; he laid the child across
his knee and whipped her severely, saying, as he set her down,
" that if she did not leave off crying, he would fling her out of
the window."

Mrs. Morley and Gertrude were both present during this
exercise of arbitrary power.

" I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself to treat a baby
like that so cruelly," said Mrs. Morley, indignantly.

" You want to make a fool of the child as you did of the
mother, but I will see better than that" — and he knocked the
ashes out of his pipe with a violence that broke it — then, rising,
he pat on a broad-brimmed hat, and went out into the yard to
see the horses stabled after they came in from the fields.

Gertrude had not said one word, only she turned very pale
and sick — not for the bodily pain which she saw inflicted, but
for the bitter lesson of harshness and injustice, which was
enough to poison the whole childhood at its well-spring. She
did not speak one word. When her father left the room her
mother took up the child, and tried to comfort her with candy
and kisses.

When Simon Morley returned the child was in bed.

That very night Gertrude took her resolution. She wrote a
letter to Lady Southend, reminding her of her promise to give
her work, and claiming it. She briefly related what had be-
fallen her, and what she had been doing, and expressed her
willingness to do anything — so that she might be able to sup.

250 THE SOREOWS OP GENTILITY.

port herself and her child. After writing this letter, she felt
more calm — the result did not remain with her.

The next day Simon Morley's savage temper was in some
measure accounted for ; he was laid up with a violent fit of the
gout, which at one time threatened to fly to his stomach ; poor
Mrs. Morley and all the household were kept in great trouble
and anxiety.

Gertrude proved herself a most efficient nurse, and wag not
only a great comfort to her mother — saving her much fatigue,
and cheering her tip — but was so gentle and patient, or as her
father expressed it, " so handy," that even old Simon Morley's
heart softened towards his daughter as it had never done be-
fore ; so that when he got about again her position was much
more pleasant — she took her place as the daughter of the house,
and she ceased to feel herself an intruder. Still, the conscious-
ness that ehe had determined to earn her own living, without
depending on any one, was the great ingredient that made her
life more comfortable.

During the month that Simon Morley was confined to the house,
Gertrude had no leisure to think or wonder about the result of
her application to Lady Southend ; but when it came to six
weeks she grew anxious, and feared either that the old lady was
dead, or had gone abroad, or that her letter had miscarried.

However, just as she had made up her mind to write once
more, her father one morning came in with a handsome-looking
letter which he had taken himself from the postman; it was
sealed with a coronet, and franked by Lord Metringham him-
self. Simon Morley was not insensible to a certain pleasure in
seeing the letter addressed —

" To the care of Mr. Simon Morley,

"The Cottage, Saltficld."

TUB SOEEOWS OP GENTILITY. 251

It showed, he thought, that his old landlord had not forgotten
him, and must have spoken about him — a microscopic point of
gratified vanity : to Simon Morley Lord Metringham was not
an ordinary mortal, but had an emphasis appertaining to no
other member of the peerage.

" Well, lass," said he, loitering near her; " what great folks
have been writing to thee now, to upset thee just as we were
beginning to be comfortable ? It is not from his lordship him-
self, is it?"

" No," said Gertrude, glancing over the paper ; " it comes
from old Lady Southend, who used to be very kind to me in
London."

" Well, let us hear what she says. I want to hear how grand
folks write."

This was a somewhat embarrassing' request, as Gertrude had
not told even her mother of her application for work. Luckily
at that instant Bill Stringer, Simon Morley's factotum, appeared
in the distance ; he had come to receive orders touching the
killing of a pig. Simon Morley, on seeing him, hobbled out of
the room — he was still somewhat lame from his gout — saying,

" Well, thou canst tell me about it at dinner-time."

Left alone, Gertrude began to read her letter. It was very
short, but full of real practical kindness. Lady Southend
explained her delay by telling Gertrude that she was abroad
when she received the letter, and had only just returned. She
desired Gertrude would come up to town at once. She had
taken lodgings for her, of which she had paid the first quarter
in advance ; and promised to find her as much employment as
she could undertake. A bank-note of a sufficient amount to
cover her expenses was enclosed in the letter.

Gei'tiude's first emotion was one of intense Gratitude for the

252 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

door of escape now opened to her ; she knelt down and thanked
God, and prayed to be kept from all evil.

She feared opposition from her parents, and she could not
regard with composure the possibility of failure.

With her mother she had to combat long and painfully.

" It was unnatural," the good woman said, " to go out to earn
money, when her husband ought to send her half his salary."

Gertrude ceased to argue, and only said :

" Mother, let me go ; it will be better for me."

Simon Morley took a far more practical view of the matter ;
but, if the truth must be told, a line and a half in the letter
about Lord Metringham, and the respect he had for her parents,
was the touch that sent him entirely over to Lady Southend's
opinion.

Notwithstanding Gertrude's improvement in his eyes, he was
glad that he had not the prospect of keeping her with him for
an unlimited time. He graciously told her, however, that if
the scheme did not answer, she was at liberty to come back —
and that she had better leave the child with them until she was
settled.

But to this Gertrude would by no means consent. A portion
of the elasticity of her youth had returned to her, and the first
easing of the millstone of dependence which her own actions
had tied round her neck was far too delightful to leave a knot
untied. She thanked her father gratefully, comforted her
mother as well as she could, and was ready in three days to
take her departure.

The day of departure came. Gertrude was nervously afraid
that something would occur to prevent it. Poor Mrs. Morley
did not cry, but she felt bitterly that she could not make
Gertrude happy at home — that she always wanted to leave her •

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 253

and though, mother-like, she took all the blame to herself, still
she had a confused feeling that Gertrude did not love her. She
always thought of Gertrude as her daughter, and forgot that
when she married this relationship was changed for ever.
Whilst Augustus was away, she had hoped she should have her
daughter all to herself. And now that she and her father were
reconciled, she could not or would not understand why Gertrude
should want to leave her again, to go and live among strangers
and work for her bread. She knew her husband was rich, for
she had helped him to make his money, and it seemed so
unjust that he should allow one of his own children to
want. All her sorrows settled into an aching dull pain of
heart, which she took with dumb patience, without trying to
understand.

As to Simon Morley, he became fonder of Gertrude in pro-
portion to the nearness of her departure ; he saw to the cording
of the trunks, despatched them in a cart under Bill Stringer to
meet the stage-coacb, and actually gave her twenty guineas
to begin the world with ! This generosity was Simon's
equivalent to the paternal blessing ; he did not understand it in
any other form."

Mrs. Morley had packed a large hamper with provisions,
enough to last for a month.

The yellow gig was at the door.

" Come, Gertrude ; now, then, are you ready ? — you women
have always so many last words. Come, missis, don't hinder
her, or we shall miss the coach."

" There, Gertrude, you must go now ; your father won't wait.
I am sure I don't know why you are going, when we might
have been so comfortable ; but it is too late to talk of that now.
Be sure you write and tell me when you want anything, and

ZO* THE SORROWS OF GE-N'TiLlTY.

write often ; it costs you no trouble, and your father will not
grudge the postage."

Gertrude's heart swelled with remorse ; it seemed to her as
though she had been born only to make her mother unhappy.

Clarissa was already in the gig, engrossed with a small
covered basket, from which issued the plaintive mewings of a
young kitten which had been kidnapped from all the joys of
kitten life and the purrings of its mother, and was not yet
reconciled to its lot.

They were in ample time for the coach, and had to wait some
minutes before it came up.

" This is as it should be — I like always to be before the time.
Xow, Gertrude, be frugal and be industrious, and there is no
fear but what you will do well. Above all, do not be giddy ;
and keep all young fellows at a distance. Recollect a woman
whose husband is away is easily talked about — so don't lay
yourself open to observation; young females cannot be too
guarded in their manners. Above all, don't let any young
sprigs of quality come about thee — they are a good-for-nothino-
set."

Simon Morley's admonitions were brought to a close by the
arrival of the " Dart," and the need to see after the luggage.

It was a lovely summer morning, and Gertrude asked Fat
Sam if he would let her and the little girl ride beside him for
a stage. Of course Sam was only too glad and too proud to
comply ; so, first the kitten in its basket was hoisted up, then
Miss Clarissa, and lastly Gertrude climbed up with very little
assistance. Simon Morley was pleased — he thought it looked
like thrift ; but Gertrude had only thought it much pleasanter
than being stifled up inside.

" Well, good bye, Ger. ; write a line to tell us how you get

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. -0 0

there. Sam can bring it, and it will save postage. Take care
of yourself, and hold fast ; the child will fall foremost if you
don't hold her."

With these parting words Simon Morley turned his gig on
one side. Fat Sam cracked his whip, and the horses darted off
with a bound ; they were all very fresh, and did not like to be
kept so long standing.

No mode of travelling will ever again be half so pleasant as
the " box-seat " beside a first-class coachman of the old times.

Sam proved himself worthy of the honour which, as he con-
ceived, had been paid him. During the two stages she rode
beside him, Gertrude heard the history of every gentleman's
family whose seat they passed, and traditions of their fathers
and grandfathers besides, interspersed with the original observa-
tions of Sam himself, which served to show the curious social
perspective in which great folks are seen by those so much
below them that they scarcely recognise their existence. To
them, the "Dart" was a stage-coach, and the coachman driving-
it had no separate identity. Here was that "coachman"
amusing Gertrude with narratives of their debts, their doings,
their domestic life, their bettings on the turf, and speaking
quite freely of family circumstances which they fondly believed
buried in the bosom of the family ; and Gertrude, whom they
never had seen and never were likely to see, was aware of
secrets they would not have trusted to their best friends.

It is quite startling to reflect how many social secrets come to
our knowledge about persons who do not know us in the least,
and we sometimes chance to see those individuals walking about
quite unconscious of the bombshell we could explode in their
ears by the shortest whisper ! There is an immense quantity of
gossip in the world, and much ill-nature ; nevertheless, a great

256 THE SOBROWS OE GENTILITY.

deal of " perilous stuff" is kept safely buried in the bosoms that
received it.

"You see, Mrs. Donnelly," said Sam, " going this road up and
down every day, I see a power of people, and hear a deal one
way or other ; they may none of them tell much, but they all
talk some, and I have to listen to a deal of stuff. I don't talk
free to everybody as I do to you, for it would do a deal of mis-
chief; but to you I don't mind, for you are a real lady in all
your ways. I am only sorry you could not make yourself happy
at home. Madam Morley will be sadly off without you. Ah !
there are few women like her i I recollect her long before you
were born ; afore Simon Morley came a-courting to her. I was
a slim young man in those days ; she was the first trouble I
ever had. I never felt so bad as I did when I seed she began
to take up with your father ; of course she had a right to please
herself. And what a wife she made him ! Bless you, she made
that house ! I have seen her many's the time sitting at that
little table smoothing out the bank-notes and rolling them
round her wrist. If she had taken me instead of Simon, maybe
she would not have been so rich ; but she should have had her
own way, I would never have said she did wrong, and then I
should not have been driving you here to-day maybe ! "

" Well, Sam," said Gertrude, " seeing that I am here, you
have made my journey very pleasant — you must come to see me
as often as you can in London, it will be a comfort to my mother
to hear about me — but at the end of this stage we had better
get inside, Clarissa is growing sleepy. At what time do you
thiak we shall get in to-night ? "

" Well, I mostly reach there about six o'clock ; it may be half
an hour sooner or later — but they look for me about six."

It was, as Sam said, about six o'clock when the "Dart"

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 257

drove in to the old-fashioned yard of the " Swan with
Two Necks," with its quaint galleries rambling round the
house, and the wooden carved balustrades — picturesque,
clumsy, and taking up more room than can be spared in
these days.

A respectable servant out of livery was waiting with a
hackney coach. He touched his hat to Gertrude, and handed
her a little note from Lady Southend. It was very short,
merely to say that she had sent her own servant, who was to
see her safe to the lodgings she had engaged.

Sam, who had set his heart upon doing this very thing, felt
aggrieved ; he assisted the civil servant with a very surly air,
and pretended to be engaged with the ostler when Gertrude was
ready to get into the coach. But Gertrude ran up to him, and
asked him as a great favour to step down to see her that
evening, — and she gave him Lady Southend's note, that he
might have the address.

Of course Sam allowed himself to promise, and then by a
natural change of feeling began to be proud that her ladyship
had sent her own servant to wait upon Mrs. Donnelly.

The hackney coach drove to a quiet out-of-the-way street in
the neighbourhood of Gray's Inn.

The houses were large, and had once been of some pretensions,
though they now looked dingy enough. It was not a thorough-
fare, but seemed to be the heart of a labyrinth of outer streets,
so still and quiet ; the grass grew amid the stones that paved
it, and several fine trees, in the bright luxuriance of green leaves,
seemed to be quite unconscious that they were thriving in the
midst of a crowded quarter of a great city. The hackney coach
stopped before a house where evidently some pains had been
bestowed to brighten it up. Plants in flower stood in some of
18

258 THE S0EE0W3 OF GEXTILITT.

tlie windows, and a canary in a fine gilt cage was hanging out-
side singing to the full estent of its little throat, The steps
though somewhat broken, were dazzlingly white, and the brass
knocker was bright and shining.

A respectable elderly woman came to the door ; she received
Gertrude with an air of quiet propriety which spoke her to be a
person who had been trained in good service.

Gertrude was taken at once to the second story, graced by
the flower-pots and canary.

" These are your rooms, ma'am," said the woman ; " my lady
sent furniture herself to make them more complete than was in
my power I hope they will please you."

There was a spacious landing-place. The shallow uncarpeted
stairs were of oak, and the balusters, black with age, were
quaintly carved and twisted. A large old-fashioned sitting-
room, with a bedroom opening from it, and a smaller room
beyond, were Gertrude's rooms.

A large stuffed arm-chair, covered with old Indian chintz, was
placed beside the window ; a table, set with tea things and all
the requisites for a substantial tea, was before it ; the grate was
filled with a pot of common, but sweet smelling flo vers. The
first aspect of the room was singularly pleasant and homely —
something like an old Dutch interior.

The civil man servant and the hackney coachman brought up
the luggage between them, and when Gertrude took out her
purse to pay the fare, the man said that " my lady had settled
everything."

"Now, ma'am," said the landlady, "if you will be led by me,
you will have your tea and let me help you to put little missey
to bed, for she looks dead tired, poor lamb ! Your tea is
made ; I took the liberty of making it down stairs. I shall

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 259

only be in trie next room, if you will call me when you want
me."

Good Mrs. Hutchins bustled out of the room, and Gertrude,
with her heart full of thankfulness, safc down to her first meal,
which was not provided with the " bitter bread " she had eaten
for so long.

13-2

2t>'J THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

CHAPTER XLIII.

Geetrude rose early the next morning, whilst Clarissa still
slept. Sam had been prevented coming the evening before, but
he had sent word by a special stable-boy that he would be with
her by eight o'clock in the morning, if that would not be too
early. She had much business on her hands.

She first unpacked her effects and arranged her rooms, for
she wished Sam to take a good report to her mother. When
she had finished, they wore an air of quaint homeliness, and
were more to her taste than any rooms she had ever lived in.

Over the carved wooden mantel-piece was a picture of Mrs.
George Anne Bellamy, in the " Grecian Daughter " — and on
the walls hung sundry prints, illustrating scenes from Clarissa
Harlowe and Sir Charles Grandison. There was on one side
of the room a large square comfortable sofa, stuffed with feathers,
and amply supplied with pillows ; but Gertrude belonged to the
old-fashioned school, which held that young women ought to sit
straight upright upon hard chairs with their feet firmly planted
upon the ground in the first position, and allowed of no
undignified rest or lounging attitudes, however graceful. A
large table, and four heavy high-backed mahogany chairs with
broad horse-hair seats, completed the furniture.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITV. 261

In her letter to her mother she said all she could think of
to re-assure and comfort her as to her prospects.

She then dressed Clarissa, and had scarcely concluded when
the steps of Sam were heard upon the stairs.

He came in mopping his shining head, and somewhat out of
breath.

" Tou live pretty high up, Miss ; but you are a lighter weight
than I am. I hope you did not take it ill in regard that I did
not come last night. You see there was a meeting of the coach
proprietors, and they would have me to attend — it was not over
till latish, and we did a deal of talking, so I did not feel rightly
in a state to come to see you."

" No, Sam, I did not take it at all amiss, and you see us to
much more advantage this morniug. But has not all your talk-
ing last night made you feel inclined for some tea and toast this
morning?" said Gertrude, smiling.

" Well, yes, I can't say but what it has," replied Sam, with
some consciousness ; "you see there was a deal of smoke too,
so many pipes going at once — till we could not see each other ;
but I would rather be with you, and little miss here, any day."

" Well, Sam, the oftener you come to see us the kinder I shall
take it. You must be sure and tell my mother how comfort-
able you have left us."

" Well, yes — I can't say but what you are comfortable enough
to look at ; but I don't like the thought of your living by your-
self— but it won't be for always, I hope ; your husband will be
coming back again.

" That is the picture of a pretty woman up there — but hard
to hold in hand I should think. Who may she be ?"

" That is Mrs. Bellamy, who was a celebrated actress, and a
very beautiful woman."

262 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

" Ah, well ! I have no great opinion of play-acting, and I
think no woman ought to be let to do it. Bat now, if your letter
is ready, I must be going ; I will run down and see your mother
on Sunday, it will be a satisfaction to her like."

Sam looked round the room, to take stock of what there was
to be seen.

" I suppose I may tell the old cat that her kitten is quite well,
and takes kindly to the change. You will hare to look sharp
after your bird when she grows a little bigger." -

" Good bye Sam — come again soon."

" Good bye, miss, and thank you kindly."

Sam departed, and Gertrude felt that she now stood in the
world alone.

In the afternoon she took Clarissa and went to see Lady
Southend.

She was shown into the room she well remembered that
Christmas morning years before. The old lad}- sat in the same
chair, and might have been sitting there ever since for any
change that appeared in her.

She received Gertrude very kindly, and gave her a kiss,
saying —

"Well, here you are at last! I have been looking for you
all day. I suppose you were tired after your journey. Now,
see, I have been as good as my word, and looked out some work
for you. But how do you like your rooms in the first place ?"

"They are charming," replied Gertrude ; " I feel quite settled
in them already."

" Mrs. Hutchins, your landlady, was once my maid, but she
would insist upon getting married, and has done no good for
herself ever since ; however, her husband is dead now, and she
will be more comfortable. It is vei-y seldom that troublesome

THE SORROWS OP GEITTILITY. 263

poople die oub of the way, so I consider her very lucky ; lie in ay
perhaps do more good in the next world than he did in this,
but I doubt it. I once knew a curious accident happen very
conveniently. A man I knew, a thoroughly worthless fellow,
who had been the plague and scandal of all his friends, was
despatched to travel. He went to Spain, and arrived at Madrid
whilst one of their revolutions was going' on. Instead of
stopping in the hotel, he went out to see what was the matter ;
a cannon was fired just as he turned the corner of a street, and
he was killed. He was the only individual killed in the affair,
and he was precisely the man the world could best spare, for
nobody wanted him here."

Gertrude made no reply to this anecdote, and Lady Southend,
thinking it might perhaps come too closely home to her, changed
the subject.

" You see that pile of black satin ? I want to cover a screen
with it for a present to Southend and his wife when they return
to England. You did not know he was married ? "

" No," replied Gertrude ; "I never heard of it. I hope you
will have comfort in the marriage."

" Oh, as for that, I expect nothing. I dare say we shall get
on very well. It is a highly suitable match as regards family ;
for the rest, she is like other young women — and very glad to
be a countess. Bat, see, you are to embroider that satin with
flowers in natural colours. I have bought some patterns, but
they are very stiff and ugly — still, the best I could find."

Gertrude looked at them in silence for a few moments, and
then said, —

" I think I could improve upon them. I used to draw and
group flower-pieces when I was at school with Miss Le French ;
I am greatly out of practice — but I think it would come back

264 mz sorrows of gextility.

to me. These are very insipid. I should like to try if I cannot
make out something better if I may."

" To be sure, child. I am glad you have the notion. If you
can design your own patterns, your work will be worth a great
deal more than it would otherwise ; try to-night, and come
again to-morrow, that I may see what you can do. You must
have a glass of wine after your walk, and if it should rain to-
morrow, remember you are not to come. You must take care
of your health, for the sake of your child."

When Gertrude rose to go away, the old lady gave Clarissa
a little white satin needle-book, embroidered with beads,
and told her she must learn to sew betimes to help her
mother.

Gertrude sat up till late, trying to draw designs for the six
leaves of the folding- screen. It was not easy, and she went to
bed without having succeeded to her satisfaction.

The next day was wet. She worked hard, and by evening
had produced three designs — one centre piece of a Dresden
china sort of haymaker resting under a tree, and two beautiful
groups of flowers. The colours were of course roughly laid in ;
but there was quite enough to show the intention and to guide
her work.

When Lady Southend saw them, she was delighted.

" Come, my dear, that will do famously ! I see you can work
well ; and good work, of whatever kind, will always fetch its
price. When people have to pay money for anything, they
require to have it well done. Oh dear ! if you knew all the
trouble I have had with young women who have professed to
want work — some in the teaching line, and some in the sewing
line, and most of them so miserably inefficient — you would pity
me ! The fact was, they all needed money, but they did not

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 265

want to work ; and being ladies — daughters of officers, orphans
of clergymen, or perhaps widows of poor gentlemen — they all
considered that the element of charity ought to come largely
into the business. They brought their susceptibilities, their
recollections of the times ' when they never expected to have to
work for their living;' or the thought of what some dear
departed relative, who in this life used to ride in a coach and
six, would have said or thought, ' if he could have seen them.'
Some would be so provokingly meek-spirited and tearful, that
I could have found in my heart to beat them ; others would be
haughty, and show their spirit on all occasions ; whilst the
work of one and all was generally so ill done that the money
was anything but earned. My clear ! my dear ! so many virtues
are required even to sew up a seam well. Take my advice, and
teach Clarissa to use her fingers, and bring her up to work for
her living. Do not let her have the notion of trying to climb
above her present station. If promotion is in store for her, it
will come without seeking."

" Indeed that is what I mean to do," said Gertrude. " I have
suffered too much — not more, however, than I deserved — but I
would wish that the consequences of my own error may end
with me, and not be continued through the life of my child ;
that is all I pray for now. I cannot tell 5Tou the peace of mind
I have had since I came to London. You would feel that your
kindness had not been thrown away if you only knew the
deliverance it has been to me, and the hope you have given me
of being- able to bring up Clarissa as I feel she ought to be
brought up. If to be glad of a blessing is to be grateful, I am
sure I am grateful."

"Yes, I really think you are," said the old lady, smiling,
whilst the tears coursed each other down the cheeks of Gertrude ;

26G ted soeeows o? gentility.

"but come, do not cry, it -will make your eyes weak, and you
■will need them.

"Do you know," she continued, to give Gertrude time to
recover her composure, " I often wish some good angels would
take the guise of servants-of-all-work, just to set an example,
and show how the thing- ought to be done. If I were the Pope,
I would canonize some good servant, for an encouragement to
the rest; and she should be canonized for her good service — not
for nonsensical austerities and fantastic superfluities, but for
faithfully and humbly doing the duties of a lowly calling.
My ideal of a maid-of-all-work would be really something
noble and attractive. Some one who had known her was
telling me, the other day, that Joanna Southcote was a
first-rate maid-of-all-work before she took to Seeing visions
and dreaming dreams. It was quite a new view of her
character to me — I only wish it had been the end instead of
the beginning."

" Well, dear Lady Southend," said Gertrude, rising, " I hope
I shall succeed so as to satisfy you; good intentions are not of
much value unless they succeed."

" True, child ; the success of bringing our work to a good end
is the most satisfactory of all mortal things — it is about the
only one that does not ' perish in the using.' But I shall send
for a coach ; you cannot carry all that satin through the streets,
to such a distance. I wish you lived nearer on some accounts,
but I wished you to be with that good woman, both for her
sake and your own ; she is as true as steel."

" The coach, my lady," said the polite servant who had met
Gertrude on her arrival.

"Well, I am sorry for it; I would like to have kept you
longer. We must have a talk together again soon. I vail send

THE SOEHOWS OP GENTILITY. 207

for you. But get on with the work ; I am impatient to sea
how it will look."

At first, Gertrude's progress was not rapid ; she was out of
practice, and she was nervously anxious about satisfying- Lady
Southend, who was by no means remarkable for her patience or
her suavity. To Gertrude, at any rate, she did not show herself
a hard task-mistress, but was extremely kind and considerate in
all ways. She really liked Gertrude, and she unconsciously
flattered herself that Gertrude's efficiency, diligence, and good
sense were the practical results of the many long conversations
in which she indulged herself with her. Everything in the
world may be used up with advantage in some conjuncture or
other. Mrs. Donnelly's domestic discipline had pounded every-
thing like conceit or self-assertion out of Gertrude — which was
partly the cause why the old lady found that she was not the
bore that all her other protegees had been, more or less.

Gertrude's life now flowed on pleasantly; she had to work
hard, but that she did cheerfully.

Little Clarissa improved every day ; if she did not make any
wonderful progress in book learning, she gained what was far
more valuable, the training that only a mother can give. She
was a child of quick sensibility and a violent temper — generous
and affectionate, but wilful and wayward to a degree that needed
constant care and great judgment; happy for her that she met
with it, — so many need it who are left to be broken in or broken
to pieces, as the case may be, by the rough teaching of the
consequences of their sins of ignorance !

Sam frequently came to see them. He never came without
bringing some child's treasure for Clarissa ; he must have spent
a little fortune upon her. It was a new object in his life. One
day he brought a doll's kitchen, that queen of playthings !

268

THE SORROWS OF GEKTIL1TT.

"What child does not recollect the intense delight of possessing
a doll's house for the first time, with its kettles and frying-pans,
and chairs and tables ? In Clarissa's days, dolls did not reside
in the magnificent Belgravian mansions that are manufactured
for them now ; they had seldom anything more than a Dutch
kitchen — but the delight of possessing it !

Gertrude always had a clean pipe and a paper of tobacco
ready for Sam when he came, who at first expressed many
scruples, but in the end took to smoking his pipe beside the fire
as naturally as if he had lived there all his life.

Through the introduction of Lady Southend, Gertrude ob-
tained as much work as she could execute. It became a point
of fashion for ladies to have their Court trains embroidered by
Mrs. Donnelly — or after Mrs. Donnelly's design. She might
have employed workwomen under her, but it would have changed
the whole aspect of her life ; she could earn enough to live very
comfortably in her original rooms, and to lay by a little besides.

Her designs for embroidery, both in satin, lace, and muslin,
were in great request, and gradually it became her chief em-
ployment. She would have been quite happy, but, like other
people, she had a skeleton in her cupboard — the dread of her
husband's return.

She sometimes dreamed that he had come back a shipwrecked
mariner, and that he was extremely angry when he found her
working, and that he flung a fine Court train into the fire, where
it was entirely consumed! She awoke with the fright. All the
speeches and actions she attributed to him were extremely like
things that had really happened ; but with the fantastic, exag-
gerated resemblance that the objects on the slides of a magic-
lantern bear to the realities. Mr. Augustus, worthless as he
was, had never been so bad as her fancy painted him.

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 269

Her imagination had grown quite morbid as regarded him,
and she was haunted by the fear that he would come back
suddenly.

This was bad, and not at all like a model wife ; but what was
worse, it indicated cowardice, a failing in the plain duty of her
position. When people live in dread that some coming duty
will break up a pleasant course of things, they may be quite sure
that trouble is in store for them.

One day Gertrude received a ship-letter from Africa, which
had been re-directed and forwarded by her father. It had gone
first to The Cottage, was greasy and dirty, and smelt villanously
of the strange places it had passed through before it had
reached hei\

Communication in those days was not either frequent or
regular ; it depended on chance ships, and a still more uncertain
delivery.

This letter had been sent by a slave-vessel, and had made
a considerable circuit; it had been nearly twelve months in
coming.

She opened it with a sickening dread and disgust; the con
tents did not re-assure her. Mr. Augustus did not like his
quarters or his duties, though, to do him justice, he discharged
as few of those as possible, and he expressed his intention of
coming home by the first ship, " as he felt convinced that his
health would never stand the climate."

That very night — Clarissa was in bed — Gertrude was sitting
up rather late to finish some work she had in hand — a hackney-
coach stopped at the door, a loud voice was heard asking if Mrs.
Donnelly lived there, a stamping of feet followed, and the noise
of a heavy chest dragged painfully up-stairs; the door of the
sitting-room was opened, and Mr. Augustus, bronzed and coarse-

<i<0 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

looking-, with a beard that had not grown beyond the stage of
ugliness, with his clothes dirty and untidy, took his wife into his
arms with a violence that seemed intended to break her bones,
and giving her a hug, said, — •

" "Well, my girl, you see I am come back ! But pay the coach,
for I have not a farthing."

He flung himself into the chair she had been occupying,
shoved her work on one side to make room for his elbow, and
the cheerful little room was filled with an uncomfortable
presence.

Her dream of the shipwrecked mariner had come to pass !

THE SOKEOWS OP GENTILITY. 271

CHAPTER XLIV.

Poor Gertrude ! She cleaved away her work, laid the table
for sapper, went to prepare a bed-room for him, and, by busying
herself about his material comforts, she evaded the necessity of
appearing much rejoiced at his unexpected arrival.

When she returned he ashed for Clarissa. Gertrude went
and fetched her. The child, awakened from a profound sleep,
did not eviuce any other emotion than extreme repugnance to
being taken out of her comfortable bed, to be dazzled with the
lights, and roughly kissed by a rough-looking man with a
painfully sharp beard. She began to cry.

" Is that all you have taught her ? " said Mr. Augustus, as he
gave her back to Gertrude.

" What would you have ? The poor child is only half awake ;
she will be a different creature when you see her to-morrow."

" I hope so, or we shall be apt to quarrel. You are as queer
as you can be yourself. A pretty reception for a man to come
home to, all the way from Africa ! "

Gertrude did not reply ; and luckily, just then, Mrs. Hutchins
herself came in with the savoury steak she had cooked for his
supper. She looked so pleasant and smiling, and the steak
looked so tempting, that the discontent of Mr. Augustus was

272 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

mollified, and by the time he had finished his supper he was
almost amiable.

" How did you discover where I was living ? " asked Ger
trude.

" Oh ! I arrived a week ago at Bristol, and wrote down to The
Cottage where I left you. I got this bit of a note in answer."

He handed Gertrude a crumpled letter in her father's crabbed
handwriting :

" Sir, — Mrs. Donnelly, your wife, does not reside here. You

will find her at 14 Place, near Gray's-inn Lane.

"Tour obedient,

" S. Moelet."

" I only received a letter from you this morning," said Ger-
trude.

" Aye, indeed! let me see it.'*

Gertrude gave it to him. He turned it over, and said — •

" How curious ! I wrote that letter, and changed my mind
about sending it. I suppose they must have found it amongst
my papers afcer I had left, and sent it to you. I have had a
precious deal of knocking about in the world since I wrote
that."

The fact was that there hung a cloud of impenetrable obscu-
riiv over the fortunes of Mr. Augustus since he left England.
He told his wife a rambling story about a Portuguese Jew — about
some trading speculations in which he had engaged, and which
turned out ill ; what they actually were he avoided stating. He
talked wildly and vaguely about his great expectations and his
enemies, who had endeavoured to ruin him — but about Sir Simon
and his secretary-ship he never spoke. There -\vas a tone of
coarse reckless boasting and bravado in his manner of speaking

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 273

that struck Gertrude painfully; it was something she had never
remarked in him before : he had, moreover, a look of dissipation
and general disreputableness.

He continued his rambling talk far on into the night. He
asked Gertrude very few questions about herself ; indeed, he did
not seem to care much about what she had been doing. He had
decidedly fallen to a lower moral level than he had been at
before he left England.

At last Gertrude said, —

" I am sure you must be tired, Augustus ; will you not go to
bed?"

" Well, I don't mind. I shall not get up very early in the
morning. On shipboard we were not tied to times ; we went to
bed when we liked, night or day, and we got up when we liked.
I scarcely knew the difference between night and day. Well,
good night; it seems a long time since I said that to you
before."

Gertrude was once more alone, but how completely had the
last few hours changed the aspect of her life. She felt disgust
and annoyance and impatience — not the least inclination to take
up the duty that had fallen before her. She was angry; it
seemed to her more than she could bear. With something like
a shudder she began to reduce the disordered room into an
approach towards its ordinary neatness. She opened the
window; the cool night breeze, the quiet moonlight and
twinkling stars, seemed to purify the room from the atmosphere
of her husband.

She then undressed, and after combing and arranging the
bright tresses of her long hair, she bathed her face and hands
with rose water. She felt as if she had contracted an involun-
tary stain by coming into contact with the kind of man that
19

274s TIIE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

Augastus had become. A sense of outrage and degradation
pursued her even in sleep. She awoke the next morning with
a heavy weight of oppression at her heart, of which she was
sensible before she could recollect what had befallen her.

Clarissa said, —

" I hope papa is gone away ; he will make us so uncomfort-
able. I cannot bear to see that great trunk ; it takes up all tlis
room."

Gertrude was startled to hear her own feelings expressed by
the child, and the extreme impropriety of allowing her to speak
without restraint on such a delicate matter struck her ; still her
own heart was in such a state of rebellion against the Providence
that had brought back her husband, that she could not at
once set herself to bring Clarissa into a more filial state of
mind.

As she continued for some little time unchecked, Miss
Clarissa's tongue went faster, and her expressions of displeasure
became stronger in proportion as she fancied herself listened to.
At length Gertrude said, gravely, —

" My little girl must not speak in that way of her papa. He
has been travelling great distances in dangerous countries to
earn some money to bring home to us, but, instead of that, he is
come home very poor ; so Clarissa must be good and kind to
him, and be very obedient, and try to find out what she should
do to please him."

" Well, mamma," replied the young lady, in a somewhat more
subdued key, and with a confidential air such as precocious little
misses of tender years sometimes assume, "but you must own
that it is very disagreeable to have all our pleasant days
interrupted."

"Does Clarissa recollect of Whom it was said, 'that He

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 275

pleased not Himself?' and you know that we are commanded
to follow His example."

But Gertrude's words seemed to mock her own ears, she was
so far from feeling their import.

She and Clarissa had their breakfast together as usual, and
after breakfast Gertrude opened the sea-chest that, as Clarissa
had said, filled up the whole landing-place. She found it nearly
empty, and what clothes it contained were mostly soiled.

Her first act was to make up all the clothes into a bundle for
the washerwoman, and then to prevail on Mrs. Hutchins to help
her to carry the chest itself bodily into the cellar.

After this, she put on her bonnet and went to a ready-made
linen warehouse, and purchased a dozen new shirts and two
complete sets of under-clothing. This first instalment towards
reducing things to something like order and comfort soothed
her feelings.

Augustus had given no signs of awaking, although it was
now eleven o'clock. She made some coffee, and determined to
take it to him in his room. Her heart sank at the prospect of
having her days cut up by irregular meals and having to
prepare extra ones at all hours. What was to become of her
work she thought, and what was to become of her !

Mr. Augustus looked, if possible, rather more ugly in the
morning light than he had done the evening before. It was not
so much the ugliness of feature as the ugliness of the man's own
nature beneath.

"I ho; 3 you are rested this morning, — I have brought you
some breakfast," said Gertrude.

" It is a pity you troubled yourself; I could have had it when
I got up. What o'clock is it ?"

" It is past eleven. I will bring you some hot water directly."
19—?

276 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

Gertrude's coffee was first-rate, and Mr. Augustus felt himself
the better for it. He graciously expressed his intention "to get
up," and when his wife had brought him the plentiful means for
a thorough ablution — had laid out his razors and his fresh
clothes — the air of comfort and orderliness, to which he had
been so long unaccustomed, began to exercise a pleasant
influence.

" I see you intend me to cast my travelling skin, and to come
out a dandy," said he, in a tone of content. " I dare say I shall
feel all the better for a fresh rigging out ; but in Old Calabar,
where I was so long, such articles as these belonged to another
world altogether. Now, if you will leave me, I will get myself
washed and dressed."

The improvement in his appearance was great. When he
entered the sitting-room, it would have been difficult to recognise
him for the same man who had sat over the fire the previous
evening. He had shaved his beard, trimmed his whiskers, and
altogether looked more like the Augustus Donnelly of former
times.

Clarissa no longer shrank from him; they soon became
friends. She brought him her doll's kitchen, and showed him
all her treasures. He played with her and told her stories, and
felt highly complacent at his own success. Clarissa was a very
jv,'~Hy child, and her father was proud of her.

At length he said he would take her out for a walk. Gertrude
hesitated — she did not like to trust him ; and that of course
made him more set upon it.

" She is not strong, Augustus ; do not let her walk far."
"Never fear; she and I will take excellent care of ourselves.
We will go into the Park to see the fine folks."

It was a lovely day at the latter end of May. Gertrude

TUB SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 277

could not find in her heart to refuse, and prepared Clarissa for
her walk. Augustus did not invite his wife ; it never occurred
to him to do so.

" You may as well give me some money, Ger. ; it is awkward
to be with empty pockets."

Gertrude gave him a pretty netted purse, tolerably well-filled
with silver.

" I shall call at a tailor's and order myself some fresh clothes
T cannot go amongst people until I am a little better dressed."

Gertrude repeated her caution against allowing Clarissa to
walk too far, and they departed. Clarissa looked up and smiled
as they passed the window.

" I wish poor mamma had been going with us, instead of
stopping at home to work."

" She seems to like it," replied Mr. Augustus ; " she would
have told us if she had wished to come."

As soon as they were fairly off, Gertrude started to go to
Lady Southend, to tell her what had happened.

She found the old lady alone, but she was not nearly so sym-
pathising as Gertrude had expected.

" Well, my dear, it is a great bore, no doubt ; but you must
just make the best of it. Your husband had an undoubted right
to come home, and I advise you not to let him see how much
you would have preferred his continued absence. It is only by
exercising your influence over him that you will be able to keep
things in any sort of order."

" Oh, Lady Southend, I am very wicked ! " said poor Gertrude;
" but you do not know how dreadful it is to have only one room
to eat and sit and work in, and to have it all disorganized, and
everything thrown out of its course. Besides, as he has come
back without any money, I do not see how I can supply all his

2/8 THE S0EE0W8 OF GENTILITY.

wants, if I have no place to work in. It will never do for me
to send home my work smelling of tobacco. If he only would
go away again and get something to do."

" My dear Gertrude, you are behaving like a weak and foolish
young woman. Your husband is worthless and idle (of course
you are indignant to hear him called so, even though it be your
own valuation), but he is a long way yet from being a 'bad
husband.' I can tell you, from my own experience, what it is
to have a ' King Stork.' Ah, my dear ! it pleased God to take
my husband many years ago, and I hope I have forgiven him as
a Christian should. He was what you would have called a ' fine
gentleman,' but I tell you that I have worn my diamond
bracelets to hide black flesh where he had pinched me. I had a
Brussels lace tippet which was the envy of all the women who
saw it. I wore it as a fanciful costume, and made it the
fashion; everybody copied it, and it was called 'la fichu a, la
Southend.' As I was never seen without it, people good-
naturedly said I wore it morning, noon, and night for the sake
of displaying- it; they never guessed it was to hide the marks
of his brutality upon my shoulders. One day, whilst my maid
was dressing my hair, he came in like a madman, and, seizing
the hot irons, scored them across both shoulders; the scars
were ineffaceable. I had that morning refused to sign away an
estate to pay a gambling debt. Another time he seized me
unawares, and cut all the nails on one hand to the quick ! —
ugh! it makes me shudder to recollect it. He brought his
mistresses into the house, and compelled me to receive a woman
of quality who audaciously made her appearance wearing
ornaments of mine that he had stolen from me to give to
her.

" He kept another of his mistresses in a fine house exactly

THE SORROWS Off GENTILITY. 279

opposite to my back drawing-room windows. I was a great
beauty, and had brought him an immense fortune, and I had
been desperately in love with him ; but I never complained — I
never took the world into my confidence. I appeared in public
with him, and kept a serene and smiling face whilst he was
uttering the most insulting* language in a whisper — looking all
the time as polite as if he had been my Lord Chesterfield or Sir
Charles Grandison. Yon come aiid talk to me about your
husband, after that ! Perhaps you will ask me what I gained
by putting so good a countenance on the matter. The world
could not gossip about me or pity me, and my husband feared
me when I looked at him and held my tongue. I believe he
thought it was a spell by which I could work him evil — his
conscience told him what he deserved. I did not gain that
strength at once. I began by being' eloquent, which only ended
in my own discomfiture — and you may be sure that I nearly
broke my woman's heart before I could cease to hope that, amid
all the wealth of fine qualities with which I had endowed him
out of my own beautiful imagination, some would at least hold
good ; but they were all charming illusions, for which I learned
to despise myself; and when I once was able to lay hold upon
the truth, I was calm — and at least ceased to wear myself out
with vain hopes.

"Go home, child. Lay hold of the fact of things, even
though it should be sharper than a sword. Accept your lot as
it actually is — do not weakly try to make a compromise if it is
miserable; say to yourself, it is miserable — and bear it. You
will have strength enough to bear whatever trials may come,
and to do whatever duty is laid upon yon — but your strength
will fail if you waste it in struggling to be happy into the
bargain. Let the comfort you have had in your life since you

280 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

came to London go, and take up your life as it stands now — you
will find your account in so doing1.

" And now good-bye, and go home. I have told you more of
my life than I ever told to any one before — so keep it to your-
self, and profij by it."

Gertrude felt stronger and braver for the old lady's words
and she went home determined to go and do likewise.

Mr. Augustus and Clarissa had not returned, although the
dusk had long been thickening. She kept the tea-table ready,
and a bright fire burning, but it was ten o'clock before they
came back. Clarissa looked very tired — she was sick, and very
cross ; Mr. Augustus was in a charmingly pleasant humour,
though there was a slight doubleness in his tongue, and a bland
confusion in his attempt to give an account of where they had
been and what they had done. They had been to Greenwich,
and he had seen some of his old friends ; and, apparently, it
was a case of " troppo grazzia " for their hospitality.

TIIE SORROWS OF GENTILUT. 281

CHAPTER XLV.

Clarissa continued ill and feverish all night. She told her
mamma that her papa had taken her in a little boat down to
Greenwich, where they walked under the beautiful trees in the
park, and then he took her to an inn to dine. Some gentlemen
came in who knew papa, and they invited them to their table ;
they were very good-natured to her, and gave her dessert and
wine, and talked to her a great deal ; and one of- the gentlemen
took her to a shop, and told her to choose what she would like
best, and she chose that beautiful crystal scent- bottle with a
silver top, to give it to her mamma. She thought they would
never come home, she grew so tired and sleepy ; at last, after
coffee, they came away, and the good-natured gentleman drove
her and papa home in his barouche.

Clarissa was several days before she recovered from the ill
effects of this journey to Greenwich, which filled Gertrude with
much anxiety as to how she should be able to avoid for the future
allowing Clarissa to go out with her papa, who was clearly not
a person to be trusted with the care of her. But for the
present her anxiety was needless.

Mr. Augustus, having- received a suit of new clothes from the
tailor, was scarcely ever at home. He did not tell his wife
whither he went, nor how he passed his time; but he never

2S2 THE S0EF.0W3 OF GENTILITY.

failed to ask her for money before he went out. lie had quite
overcome his objection to seeing her " manty-make," or do
anything else she pleased to earn money. He seemed now to
accept it as a matter of course that she was to work, and that
he was always to obtain money from her for the asking.

This was neither a right nor a wise mode of proceeding ; but
Gertrude disliked the sight of him so much, and was so exceed-
ingly thankful to have him out of the house on any terms, that
she gave him money from her hoarded store, lest if she should
refuse he should sit and lounge over the fire all day.

She accustomed him to have breakfast in his own room — she
always prepared it carefully, and took it to him herself. The
only time when he decided to breakfast in the sitting-room
where she and Clarissa were at work, either from accident or
design the difference in the comfort was so great that he never
attempted it again.

We are sorry to confess that she had contracted such an intense
disgust and contempt for him, that her sole study was to isolate
him, and to have as little of his society as possible. She never
showed any irritation of temper — she never complained or found
fault with him; she attended to his comfort — studied his con-
venience— always spoke gently to him; but there was with all
this a smooth marble coldness of manner, an intangible some-
thing, that repelled all companionship. She was there as
regarded her bodily presence, coldly irreproachable — but she
herself was all the while separated and concealed as behind a
wall of ice. If Mr. Augustus had retained a spark of affection
for his wife, he would have suffered much; but as he was quite
indifferent, it did not hurt his feelings in the least. Still he
was ag-gravated by the cold, dignified aversion she manifested,
which he had sense enough to perceive, although she gave him

THIS SORROWS OP GEKTILITY. 283

no excuse for finding fault. His wounded amour propre soon
converted indifference into a dull smouldering dislike, which
grew stronger every clay.

The genuine feeling, whatever it may be, from which our
actions spring' always makes itself felt, and all that Gertrude
gained by her impeccable behaviour was, that her husband never
felt the slightest gratitude for anything she did, but had a fixed
idea that she was very sorry he had not been devoured or
murdered by savages, or come to some fatal end amongst his
many adventures, and that she would be very glad if he would
once more go away and never come back again; in fact, that
she wished him dead on any terms. Mr. Augustus, with all his
faults, was not a malicious man — on the contrary, he was good-
natured. This was fortunate for Gertrude, as he did not give
himself the trouble to torment her by the only means in his
power — viz., stopping at home. To be sure, it would have been
a bore to himself to have done so : he therefore took the less
obnoxious course of " scorning to stop where he was not wanted,"
took his liberty and all the money she could give him, and con-
sidered that he was to be pitied for having a wife with such a
confoundedly bad temper.

Fencing with our duties is like delaying to pay a just debt ;
we may succeed in evading it for a time, but it will inevitably
be exacted in some shape or other, and it will fall all the heavier
and at a more inconvenient season than if we had girded up
ourselves to meet it bravely at once.

Gertrude felt and knew that, in spite of her unimpeachable
virtues, she was not doing her duty honestly and heartily
towards her husband.

To make amends, she worked harder than ever — stinted her-
self of food and rest, practised the most rigid self-denying

28-i THE SORROWS OF GENTILITV.

economy — to earn money that her husband squandered, and she
hated him more every day he lived. When he left the house
she was conscious of a relief that enabled her to breathe, and
when she heard his footsteps at night her heart contracted with
a sick despair. There is no hatred like that which comes
between a man and wife.

Clarissa meanwhile had grown very fond of her father, and
was delighted when he would take her out with him or play
with her. But that soon became troublesome to him, and he
preferred being independent, for which Gertrude was devoutly
thankful. The little Clarissa was the one good element in that
home of estrangement and restraint, but she too was a sufferer.
Pressed by the necessity of earning money, Gertrude had less
time to devote to the training of her child. No one can take
anger and uncharitableness to the root of their tree of life with
impunity. She had not the same good influence upon Clarissa
as formerly.

Undoubtedly Mr. Augustus was not the sort of husband to
rejoice in; but the greatest source of her unhappiness lay
within herself.

One day Mr. Augustus came home in high spirits. Lord
Elvington had invited him down to Elvington Park to assist
him in his electioneering-, and he had told him to bring his little
friend Clarissa with him.

Gertrude remonstrated, and said, sensibly enough, that
Clarissa was too young to visit anywhere without her mother;
and pointed out the indelicacy of intruding a child into Lady
Elvington's nursery without her invitation, or at least her
sanction.

Mr. Augustus was proud of Clarissa. He liked the notion of
showing her off amongst all the company he expected to meet.

THE SOEEOWS OP GENTILITY. 285

He had set his heart upon taking her with him ; that it would
thwart his wife, was an additional motive why he should
insist.

Gertrude ventured to write a note to Lord Elvington, who,
although somewhat surprised to find his careless and half-jesting
speech taken in earnest, wrote a courteous note in reply,
expressing the pleasure it would give himself and Lady Elving-
ton to have such a charming playfellow for their nursery.
There was nothing more to be done except reluctantly to
prepare Clarissa's wardrobe for the visit.

Clarissa was half wild at the prospect, which was scarcely
shadowed by the necessity of going away from her mother for
the first time in her life.

Gertrude had always taken a pride in keeping Clarissa nicely
dressed. Her clothes were exquisitely fine and beautifully made,
and she thought at least Lady Elvington's nurse would see that
the child had been well cared for.

It gave her a pang to see how little Clarissa felt the
approaching separation; but she crushed it down into her heart
as she had done many other emotions.

A chaise came on the day fixed for their departure, sent by
Lord Elvington; they departed, and Gertrude was left alone
with the bitter thoughts that rankled in her heart.

Of course Mr. Augustus had ordered himself a supply of new
clothes ; they had come, accompanied by the tailor's bill, which
Mr. Augustus entirely ignored. Gertrude found it after his
departure, lying on the floor of his bedroom torn in two.

The amount was heavy as compared with Gertrude's means
of payment, but she took a sullen pleasure in hanging this
additional millstone round her neck. She sat in doors all that
fine summer weather ; morning, noon, and night; she sat to her

Z&o THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

task, and resolutely refused to stir abroad. She worked early
and late, but it was with a bitter sense of hardship and injustice
that injured and wore her strength far more than either the
close application or the confinement.

Pier health began to suffer, and she fancied that she was
sacrificing herself to meet her own difficulties and her husband's
debts.

Mrs. Hutchins, her kind landlady, grew unhappy about her.
She thought she did not eat enough, and often of her own
accord brought her little delicacies and nourishing things to
tempt her appetite; but Gertrude was in no mood to feci
grateful.

" Dear heart, ma'am ! " said Mrs. Hutchins, seating herself
one day, after depositing a delicate sweetbread before Gertrude ;
" I do wish you would give yourself a holiday — you work too
hard — your face is getting a look I don't like to see. I have
had trouble myself, and I know the look of it when I see it in
another. If it is only money, I really would not sacrifice my
health to obtain it; when health is gone, all is gone."

"Mrs. Hutchins, I must earn money for Mr. Donnelly and
my child; there is nothing but what I earn."

Mrs. Hutchins looked at Gertrude compassionately, and
sighed. After a pause, during which an}^one who had watched
her would have observed a hesitation in her manner, as thounii
debating whether she should speak, she said, timidly, —

"A clergyman once said to me, that the burdens we bind upon
ourselves are heavier than any that are laid upon us by Provi-
dence. He meant that we make them heavy by our manner of
taking them."

" How do you mean ? " said Gertrude, languidly.

" Why, ma'am, he meant that we harden our hearts instead of

THE SORROWS OF GE^TMTY. 2S7

softening tliera, aud take our troubles perversely and athwarb
instead of meekly."

" I don't know ; we can but bear them : they come but to be
borne."

" Nay, ma'am, it makes all the difference to us what way we
take our trials. God's blessing never rested yet on a proud
heart, and it makes Him angry when He sends us lessons that
we will not learn. It is being stubborn and setting ouselvcs
against Him — and, I take it, that is the one sin which compre-
hends all others. When I lived with my Lady Southend, she
had a great deal of trouble, and she had a brave spirit of her
own. I used to wonder where she found all her stieno-th ; but
I have thought since that she did not take her trouble just in
the right way. She set her face like a flint, and hardened her-
self like iron, and nobody ever saw her give way ; but I have
often found her beautiful cambric handkerchiefs gnawed into
holes, — she always covered her mouth when my Lord angered
her."

"What would you have had her do ?" said Gertrude.

" Well, ma'am, I am not just clever at saying things, and you
will, maybe, make no sense of me; but when my own troubles
came, I did not find that being proud helped me one bit ; it only
drove the hurt deeper. I was obliged to bear. But one day
the thought came into my mind how much worse I had all my
life behaved towards Him who made me than anybody had ever
behaved to me, and how little I deserved that anybody should
behave well to me. I began to see myself, and then I left off
feeling- angry at others ; and as soon as the anger was taken
away, I felt for all the world, as one might do who had a bad
burn dressed with healing- ointment. My husband was not a
good man, — he was a very bad one in every way. We had one

288 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

child, and God forgive me if I wrong him, but I surely believe
he made away with it for the sake of the club-money. That
was a sore grief, and it drove me out of my mind for some
months. When I came to myself, I prayed very hard that I
might not be let to hate him, and I was not ; thank God, I was
kept quiet. He fell very ill soon after my judgment had come
back to me, and I was able to nurse him and have a good heart
towards him. It was not against me he had sinned, though he
had made me suffer."

"And what became of him?" asked Gertrude.

" He got well again that time, but he went on in bad ways.
He left me to go and live with another woman, and I went to
service under my maiden name; my husband joined a gang of
burglars, and got shot one night in attempting to enter a
gentleman's house. I went to him in the prison."

" Well ? " said Gertrude.

"Well, ma'am, he was quite sensible and knew me, and
thanked me for coming to see him. He died before his trial
came on."

" And were you not very glad ? " asked Gertrude, bitterly.

" No, ma'am ; I let it be as it best pleased God. I knew His
way would be best."

" But you must have lived in constant dread of him, and of
what he might do."

" Xo, ma'am ; I was kept quiet — I was not afraid."

Gertrude looked at the composed, steadfast face of her land-
lady, and owned in her heart that a more excellent spirit was in
her than within herself.

"But what did you do when you found him going so wrono-,
and when he injured you so deeply?"

" I prayed to God for him, ma'am — that was all I could

THE SORROWS OP GENTILI1X 289

do ; and I was kept to feel quiet myself — through every
thing."

" But you could not love such a husband, surely ? "

" No, ma'am, perhaps not ; he had wore that out. But I did
not hate him ; I wished him well."

" What sort of a man was he in his ways ? "

" Well, ma'am, he was very trying. I used to like to have
things nice and orderly ; and when he was in one of his passions,
he thought nothing of smashing everything; he upset my
places sadly."

" Mrs. Hutchins," said Gertrude, after a pause, " If you will
come and take a walk with me, I will go out."

" To be sure ma'am, I will be glad to do so ; and don't sit
again so close to your pattern-drawing and embroidery; you
take things harder than they are laid upon you."

" I have some work to take home, and if I am paid I shall
have money to pay that tailor's bill, and I shall feel happier
when that is off my mind."

When Gertrude came home again, she felt like a sick person
who has been sent to breathe a purer atmosphere. When she
knelt down that night, the petition that came from the depth of
her heart was — " Renew a right spirit within me ! "

Before she dropped asleep a verse that she had never much
heeded came into her mind — " Above all things, have fervent
charity amongst yourselves/'-r-and for the first time it seemed
to haye a meaning.

20

290 TE2 SOKr.OWS OF GENTILITY.

CHAPTER XLVL

It was not immediately that Gertrude came to a feeling of
charity towards her husband ; but the impulse in the right
direction had been given — she had at last been awakened to the
consciousness of wherein she had been wrong. The " grain of
mustard seed " had been sown, and there needed only time to
quicken and mature the growth.

She had not, however, any immediate opportunity to test her
improvement. The next morning brought her a letter from
Mr. Augustus, saying that an opportunity had offered for him
to go to Ireland, where he expected to meet with something to
his advantage, and that he purposed taking Clarissa along with
him "for company, and also to show her to his relations."

This was all the information the letter contained ; not one
word about Clarissa, no message of love, not even an address to
which she might write !

When Mrs. Hutchins came in shortly afterwards, she found
Gertrude lying upon the floor in a dead faint.

" Dear heart ! dear heart ! what can have happened to her "
and the good woman tried long and unsuccessfully to restore
Gertrude to consciousness.

At last she opened her eyes — the letter, lying where it had
fallen, was the first thing she saw; a violent shudder passed

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 291

through her frame, and she became again insensible. Poor Mrs.
Hutchins was alarmed at this second and prolonged swoon, but
at length Gertrude seemed to awaken from the dead, — she sat
upright, — all her faculties and recollections had come back to
her.

" Tell me what must I do ? what can I do ? Read that letter,
and tell me."

" It is a bad job ; you can do nothing, — the law gives him the
right to take the child anywhere he pleases. It is a pity but
what you and he had been more friendly together. I fear he
won't mind for vexing you."

" No ! I have not deserved that he should ; but it is too
dreadful. He is the last person Clarissa ought to be with, — he
is not a fit companion for her. You do not know the people
she will be thrown amongst even if the best happens, and he
takes her to her grandmother ; but I fear he will keep her with
him, and she will see and hear nothing but evil continually."

" It is a hard blow, but you must recollect she is in the hands
of God, and He can guard her from all evil there as well as if
she were here."

"If she had only died I could have borne it, but this is
worse."

" We must think who sends the trouble — it would be harder
still to bear else. But is there nothing to be done ? — Maybe, if
you were to go down to the place where she has been staying-,
you might hear something. How do you go there ?"

Gertrude eagerly caught at the suggestion. " I will take a
chaise and go to-night — at once."

Alas ! Gertrude had not the money, and Mrs. Hutchins had
it not to lend her. Gertrude's thoughts turned to Lady
Southend, but her ladyship was out of town, A day's delay
20—3

292 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

might make her too late. The money with whicb she had
bought her husband's absence from home would in this
emergency have enabled her to reach her child ; — her conscience
was not slow to suggest this.

" Suppose I go to make inquiries at a coach-office," said Mrs.
Hutchins.

" No, no, you shall not. I will go ; it may be that the coach
is on the point of starting when I get there — if you went I
should miss it."

" Well, well, I will not hinder you, but I will go with you ;
and you shall go if you will only eat something first."

"It will choke me," said Gertrude, hastily beginning to
collect a few necessary articles and put them into a bag. " Now
come, I'm ready."

Mrs. Hutchins hailed a coach, for Gertrude was unable to
walk.

When they arrived at the coach-office, they found that a coach
passing the gates of Elvington Park left the office at nine
o'clock in the morning and reached there about seven in the
evening; it was a long day's journey. Flying would have been
all too slow for Gertrude, she wished to set off on foot and to
walk all night.

'" You would arrive there no sooner, dear ; for you would have
to wait till the coach overtook you. You must take it as part
of the trial appointed to you, and accept the delay with patience.
You will be stronger to-morrow, and better able to travel, and
you may make some arrangement to follow them if they should
be gone forward. This very delay may enable you perhaps to
come up with them earlier than if you had your will and set off
in this hurried manner."

Gertrude yielded to the necessity, and returned home,

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 293

The whole of that night she watched for the morning. Mrs.
Hutchins tried to say words of comfort, but Gertrude heeded
them not.

" I shall not come back till I have found her, Mrs. Hutchins.
I will follow them all over the world. If you like to let these
rooms, do — do not let me stand in your way."

"Dear heart, don't think of me. Have you put up every-
thing you will want ? Have you any work to send home, or
any message for the shops you work for? "

This removed Gertrude's thoughts forcibly in another
direction. If, indeed, she should be forced to prolong her
absence, some arrangement was absolutely necessary. This
seemed too to advance her on her journey ; it was at any rate
doing something towards setting out.

Completely worn out, she slept for an hour towards morning.

Long before it was time to start, her nervous eagerness
brought her to the coach-office. Mrs. Hutchins came with her.

" You will write me a line, ma'am, just to tell me of your
success."

Gertrude grasped the hand of her companion.

"Yes, yes," she said in a harsh discordant tone, that sounded
strangely unlike her natural voice.

The coach set off at last, and Gertrude was in pursuit of her
child, at the rate of eight miles an hour.

How slow and weary seemed the day !

At last the coach reached the lodge-gates. Gertrude
descended from the jingling stage-coach, the guard flung out
her portmanteau, and the stage drove on.

The blood beat tumultously in her heart, and the next
moment seemed to congeal to ice. In answer to her inquiry,
the woman at the lodge, a hard-looking woman with a sour

294 THE SOREOWS OF GENTILITY.

placidity of face, told her that the party at the Hall had broken
up the day before, and that no one remained except my lord
and lady, who were returning to town the next morning1.

" Do you know ? — did you see — whether a little girl who has
been here on a visit with her father has gone away, or is she
still at the Hall ? "

"Indeed, ma'am, I cannot say," replied the woman. "I
believe all the young nobility who have been visiting in the
nursery went away directly after the ball."

The woman spoke stolidly, and with the most unimpressible
indifference — the manner not insolent only because it was
devoid of all expression.

" Perhaps you will allow me to leave my travelling bag here,
whilst I go to the hall to enquire." Gertrude spoke gently
and courteously.

" Yes, I suppose you may leave it," said the woman reluct-
antly ; " you will hear no more than I have told you; her lady-
ship doesn't like seeing strangers at this time of day. It is
not easy to see her at any time. Had you not better come
again r

But Gertrude was already out of heai'ing. She did not go
to the grand entrance, but up a narrow path that led round the
house to the offices.

Her dress was dusty and crumpled with a long day's travel,
her face was harassed and weary, but Gertrude looked still an
undeniable gentlewoman in her carriage and bearing. One of
the men servants crossing the court saw her and approached ;
his manner was far more respectful than that of the woman of
the lodge.

" Is Miss Donnelly still here ?" Gertrude's parched throat
could scarcely articulate the question.

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY. 295

" I do not know, ma'am, but I will enquire, if you will coma
into the housekeeper's parlour. The party broke up yesterday,
and I heard the nursery footman saying that Miss Donnelly
was to leave with her father, but she may be here still."

Gertrude followed, thankful for the doubt so charitably
thrown out.

The housekeeper — a stately middle-aged woman in stiff
black silk, with her face drawn into an expression of repulsive
dignity, though the features, being small, were somewhat
overtaxed to produce it — looked up in surprised displeasure at
the invasion of her parlour.

" A lady, ma'am, who has come to enquire for Miss Donnelly,"
said the footman.

" I am her mother," gasped Gertrude " and I only heard yes-
terday that she was likely to be taken away to Ireland."

" Indeed," said the housekeeper coldly, " I do not know ; the
nursery is an entirely different branch of the establishment. Is
her ladyship aware of your visit ? "

" Oh, if I could see her ladyship, I should be most thankful."

" I really do not know," said the housekeeper, " her ladyship
is not in the habit of being disturbed. You say that she knows
you?"

" No," said Gertrude, " I never saw her. My husband and
little girl have been here during the election. He is a friend of
Lord Elvington's."

" Oh," rejoined the housekeeper, looking at her with her cold
sullen face, " many sort of folks come at election times that my
lady would neither see nor speak to at others ; but you say your
little girl has been on a visit to her ladyship's children ? "

Gertrude bowed her head, she could not trust herself to speak
—-her eyes were fixed on the door. The good natured footman

296

THE SORROWS OE GEXTILITY.

returned at last with " Mrs. Blisset's compliments (the head
nurse, ma'am) and Miss Donnelly went away with her father
yesterday morning in the carriage of Mr. Fitz-Vashipot ; — she
believes they were to sail from Holyhead for Dublin, but she is
not certain. The young lady was quite well, ma'am, she bid me
say."

Gertrude's look of despair touched the humane footman ; —
the housekeeper looked as if she saw and felt nothing but the
inconvenience of having Gertrude standing there in the
parlour, without any immediate prospect of getting rid of
her.

" Is there anything I can do, ma'am ? or any other enquiry
you would like to make ?"

" If I might see her ladyship for one minute I should be
grateful ; — she, at least, could tell me where they are gone."

"I will ask Mr. Williams, the groom of the chambers,
whether her ladyship has left the dining-room. I will go and
see what can be done."

" You had better take a seat until Mr. James returns," said
the housekeeper, discontentedly, seating herself as she spoke in
her large easy chair, and resuming the perusal of her news-
paper.

Gertrude thankfully availed herself of the permission.

" Mr. James," as the housekeeper called him, at length
returned with the intelligence that her ladyship would have the
pleasure of speaking to Mrs. Donnelly in the library directly.

Gertrude rose, and courteously wishing the housekeeper good
evening, followed her conductor along the matted passage, wide
enough to be called a corridor, and across a magnificent hall,
paved with different kinds of marble arranged in mosaic, into a
room filled with antique oak carvings and stained-glass windows •

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 297

the boards of the floor were of polished oak, as smooth as glass,
except where they were covered in the centre with a rich Turkey-
carpet.

A handsome, haughty-looking woman stood on the hearth-
rug, before the small wood fire that was burning in the chimney,
summer-time as it was. A younger and less remarkable-looking
woman was beside her.

"These election times bring one acquainted with strange
people," said the elder lady, with a look of disgust. " One's
household gods are desecrated, and the odour of bad society
lingers over the house for months after all is over."

" Mrs. Donnelly, my lady," said the footman, throwing open
the door.

The stately lady advanced a step, and said,—

" I was told that you wished to see me."

" I came to fetch my little girl, who has been staying here
with her papa, on Lord Elvington's invitation. I find she has
been taken away — can your ladyship tell me where ? "

Lady Elvington's brow slightly clouded. She said, coldly, —

" Mr. Donnelly brought his little girl for the election time ;
he left yesterday, taking the child with him. I do not know
anything further about him."

A good-natured looking middle-aged man entered the room
and saxmtered towards the fire-place.

" My lord," said the lady, turning round, " do you chance to
know anything of Mr. Donnelly's movements? This lady is
his wife, come to claim her little girl from us."

"Eh — what? No," said his lordship, coming forwards and
looking at Gertrude. " I don't know anything about his move-
ments. It strikes me I heard him say something about going to
see his mother and his uncle, Sir Lucius O'Connor ; and I think

293 THE S02E0W8 OP GENTILITX

he agreed to cross over with Fitz-Vashlpot. It was tinpardon-
ably thoughtless in him to take away the child without informing
you; bat yon need not be agitated, my dear madam. Miss
Clarissa will be in no danger. You would scarcely be ■ in time
to catch them at Holyhead, even if you were to take post-
horses; but a letter addressed to the care of Fitz-Vashipot
would be sure to find your husband, who, no doubt, will take
the earliest opportunity of repairing his omission. Do not be
agitated, I b?g ; depend upon it, all is quite right, only a little
irregularity in the form ; he should have asked leave at head-
quarters. A charming child Miss Clarissa — full of cqneglerie;
she will be a dangerous beauty some of thes% days ! "

" "Will your lordship be so kind as to give me the address
that will find my husband, and I will not trespass further on
your time, except to thank her ladyship and yourself for the
kindness you have shown my child."

Her ladyship bowed coldly. His lordship said, in the hasty
manner in which he alwaj-s spoke, —

" Oh, not at all— not at all ! She is a delightful child. This
is the address. But you cannot return to the village alone;
one of the men shall go with you."

" Matilda, my dear, ring the bell, will you. Mrs. Donnelly
must need refreshment after her journey," said her ladyship,
languidly

Gertrude strenuously refused everything except the footman's
guidance across the park, for it was now becoming dusk.

Her ladyship bowed coldly; his lordship shook hands
cordially, and desired the groom of the chambers to direct
James to see Mrs. Donnelly safe to the inn in the village.

" I was told that my friend Donnelly had made a mesalliance;
but if looks go for anything, she might pass muster amongst

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 299

half the women in the red-book," was the observation of his
lordship after Gertrude had retired.

" She is a good woman enough, no doubt ; but it is not
pleasant to have her come asking one for her child, as though
one had any concern in the matter. I wish, my lord, you -would
be more careful whom you invite; if anything unfortunate
should occur, it will be very unpleasant to have it dated from
our house. Who is that Mr. Donnelly ? "

" He used to belong to Southend's set. I have known him,
on and off, a long time. The Whig government gave him some
appointment, I forget what, which he lost ; and then he was
sent out to Africa, and returned lately. He is of a good Irish
family ; but his ways and means are a mystery. I suppose he
had money with his wife. She is a pretty creature, though she
looked horribly anxious and jaded. I wonder who she was ? "

" Oh, nobody, of course, that we ever heard of or are likely to
hear of;" and her ladyship settled herself luxuriously into her
own particular chair. The servants entered with lights. His
lordship took up the "Edinburgh;" her ladyship began to cut
the leaves of a new novel ; whilst the lady called " Matilda "
made tea at another table.

300 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

CHAPTER XLVII.

The landlady of the " Wheatsheaf," seeing Gertrude accom-
panied by one of the footmen from the Hall, received her with
a degree of zealous politeness which would scarcely have greeted
her otherwise.

Seeing her extreme exhaustion, she suggested " a nice cup of
tea and a new-laid egg." Gertrude sank wearily on the settee
covered with check gingham, which did duty for a sofa, and
feebly wondered whether she were going to die. Physical
weariness swallowed up all distinction of suffering ; she was as
wretched as a human creature could be, and — live. But when
misery is stretched beyond a certain point, confusion follows.

" The nice cup of tea " promised by the landlady scarcely justi-
fied its epithet — it was more like an infusion of chopped hay ; the
bread was sour, and the butter was salt ; the room in which she
sat smelled horribly of stale tobacco, and accused the lingering
memory of strong beer and British brandy which had been
consumed in unlimited quantities during the last election week.

A "village hostel," however picturesque, is not the place for
any great comfort. The "Wheatsheaf" stood on the village
green. It was built with numerous gables and overhanging
eaves ; the chimneys were quaint ; the thatch was dotted with

THE S0EE0W3 OP GENTILITY 301

houseleek and moss ; the walls were dazzling with whitewash.
An old patriarchal elm tree, beneath which was a bench, where
all the topers of the village congregated to enjoy the beauties of
nature and virtues of strong ale, stood upon the green in front
of the porch.

Nothing by daylight, or twilight, or moonlight could look
more attractive than this real country inn, the " Wheatsheaf ; "
nevertheless, the accommodations were scanty, and far from
comfortable. The bed-room to which Gertrude was ushered was
a bare uncarpeted room, with the boards wide apart; a flock
bed, which felt as if it had been stuffed with the bodies and
bones of a whole generation of geese and ducks, with the
feathers omitted ; coarse blue check window curtains ; a single
chair ; and a looking-glass that made all it reflected crooked ; —
but Gertrude was too weary to notice externals. The good
motherly landlady, seeing that she sat down listlessly in the
chair, seemingly too stupified to be conscious of what she was
doing, took upon herself to undress her, and " to see her com-
fortable," as she expressed it, and Gertrude fell into a heavy
slumber that lasted late into the following day, — although even
in her sleep she was conscious of being wretched.

Her landlady allowed her to sleep as long as she would, and
it was near eleven o'clock when Gertrude came down into the
parlour.

A basket of fruit had been sent down from the Park by one
of the under-gardeners, with " my lady's compliments to Mrs.
Donnelly." The family had all left the Hall that morning.

It made no difference to Gertrude ; and yet, at the news, she
felt like one stranded and shipwrecked on a desert island — the
last link connecting her with Clarissa was snapped by their
departure.

Gertrude had no place of action, bub her instinct was to get

302 THE SOKKOW3 OF Uli.MLnn.

back to London as soon as possible. It might be that there
had been a letter sent to her containing some explanation, some
cine to direct her course. The stage only passed through to
London three days a week, and tbe present was not one of them.
Gertrude was therefore constrained to remain in her present
quarters until the morrow, and this was the best thing that
could have befallen. After breakfast, she attempted to write a
letter of appeal to her husband ; but her powers both of body
and mind had Leen overwrought, and she was incapable of
writing a line.

She remained the whole day in a state of half stupor that
was neither sleeping nor waking. The next morning she arose
feeling somewhat more alive to things; the stage coach was
expected at ten o'clock in the forenoon, and she had at least the
prospect of getting away — of doing* something.

The greatest blow that could be dreaded had actually fallen,
and she was still too much stunned to be conscious of the whole
extent of her misery. Mrs. Hutchins had everything prepared
for her, as though she had been fully expected. She asked no
questions, but behaved as much as possible as though nothing
extraordinary had taken place. One pleasant piece of intelli-
gence she had to communicate. Lady Southend had returned
to town, and had sent a message desiring to see her. Lord
Southend and his bride had also arrived — all the friends who
could help her were within her reach. Gertrude was too weary
to feel any desire to talk • the time of words and tears had not
yet come.

The next day Mrs. Hutchins, who did not think it safe to lose
sight of Gertrude, accompanied her to Lady Southend. The
old lady had been informed of everything, so Gertrude was
spared the trouble of entering upon details.

THE SOKKOWS OF GENTILITY. 303

The old lady kissed her, and made her sifc dcr.vn beside her on
the sofa.

" Now tell me about your journey. What have you heard ? "

" It was a sadden arrangement. I think Augustus only
agreed to go to Ireland because Mr. Eitz-Somebody offered him
a place in his carriage, and I think taking away Clarissa was a
sudden thought almost an accident. I do not think there was
any premeditation. He was always rash, and thoughtless, and
headlong, from the first I ever knew of him."

" I think so too ; and we must be careful how we take him,
or else this whim may become a fixed idea. It will hamper his
movements, and be attended with some inconvenience, to have a
child like Clarissa attached to him. He hates inconvenience,
and if we deal with him rightly he will be glad to be hand-
somely rid of her ; but if we vex him, there is no saying- what
rash thing he may do out of spite. But I do not think — at
least your husband did not look to me as if he were a malicious
man."

" Oh do not trust to that," cried Gertrude, with a shiver.
" You do not know him since he returned this time. He hates
me, and if he takes it into his head that he can make me suffer
through this act, he will never give up my child. He is so
inconsequent that he may not have seen its effect yet ; but if it
strikes him, he will be glad to make me suffer to the utmost. I
feel that he will. Can I not complain to a magistrate, and force
him to give me back my own child? What right has he to take
her from me ?

" My poor child ! my poor child ! Clarissa belongs lawfully
t"o your husband, and not to you. He can do what he likes with
her, so long as neither life nor limb, nor property, are endan-
gered, We must hope for the best ; he may be induced to do

304 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

what we cannot obtain by any appeal to motives of law or
justice."

Gertrude gave a wild gesture of dumb despair.

" Southend has much influence, and if anyone can persuade
him it will be Southend, and I know he will do his utmost."

Gertrude groaned and writhed as though in agony; the hope
was so vague and slender, and the despair so deep.

"I will see Southend to-nigh. Give me your husband's
address. Do you write too. I do not advise you to follow him,
at least not till we hear further, and know a little what he
intends to do. In the meanwhile take care of your health and
strength, you will need both ; and, above all, do not give way
to despair — that alone will be fatal to our success."

Gertrude heard as though she heard not — she did not realise
the meaning of the words that Lady Southend uttered ; she
looked at her blank and helpless when she ceased to speak.

"Take her home, Mrs. Hutchins, she will be better to-
morrow. Do not worry her with talking to her. I will see
Southend, and consult him what is the best to be done."

Gertrude went away quite passively, like one walking in
sleep.

When they arrived at home there was a letter for Gertrude,
desiring her to go down to The Cottage directly if sLie wished
to see her mother alive»

TUG SORTJOWS OF GENTILITY. 305

CHAPTER XLVIII.

Whilst his wife was in this sorrow and despair at home, Mr.
Augustus was

'•Lolling at ease behind four handsome bays,"

which whirled him along at a first-rate pace towards Holyhead.
He found himself comfortable in body and happy in his mind.
He was so constitutionally and incurably thoughtless, so entirely
inconsequent in all he said and did, that he never saw beyond the
impulse of the present moment, nor had the least notion of the
shape his actions would take, nor to what result they would go ;
there was no parti pris or malice prepense in what he had done
with regard to Clarissa.

The evening before the party at Elvington Park was to break
up, Mr. Fitz-Vashipot proposed to Mr. Augustus that he should
cross over to Ireland with him, and do a few electioneering jobs
for him there.

Mr. Fitz-Vashipot was an English commoner, possessing a
large landed estate in Ireland. His influence was great, but the
government at home had refused him a peerage. He had set
his mind on becoming Lord Pitz-Vashipot, and, disappointed in
this innocent aspiration, he purposed to get up a little whole-
some opposition at the ensuing election. He only intended,
21

306 THE SOKEOW8 OF GENTILITY.

however, to sliow wliat he could do, that the ministers might
re-consider their ways; not by any means to drive them to
despair — because despair never pays !

Mr. Augustus was in his abnormal state of fund — viz., with-
out any ; for there had been high play at the Park, and though
Mr. Augustus had won considerably, an unlucky bet a couple of
day3 ago had completely cleaned him out; even the latitude of
"necessary expenses " did not furnish him with a decent excuse
for applying to Lord Elvington. He did not relish the prospect
of going back to his wife, after the charming society at the Park.
But there was nothing else for him. He did not see his way
clearly as to what was to become of him when he drifted from
his present anchorage.

When, therefore, Mr. Pitz-Vashipot proposed to frank him to
Ireland, where "he might make himself devilish useful, and
perhaps pick up something for himself worth having," it is not
wonderful that Mr. Augustus should consider it as a most
opportune " stroke of fortune ; " and as to making himself
useful by doing the business of somebody else, that came quite
natural to him. The most innately idle people are often the
most indefatigable in that respect.

The taking Clarissa with him, that was the accident of a
moment. By way of making a show of modest reluctance, and
to enhance his value, Mr. Augustus objected that he had his
little daughter, who was too young to travel alone home to her
mother.

"Bring her along with you, my boy; she will be charming
company for us, and she shall give the colours ! "What do you
say to that, Miss Beauty ? Will you come and help us to return
a Member of Parliament ? "

" If you will let me go back soon to mamma I have no obiec

THE SOEKQWS OP GaxriLITY. 307

tion, but I cannat be spared long-," replied Miss Clarissa with a
demure dignity that made Mr. Fitz-Vashipot clap his hands and
laugh, and cry " Excellent ! — by Jove ! she shall make them a
speech."

It was less trouble at the moment for Mr. Augustus to take
Clarissa along with him than to make arrangements for
sending her home, and even to be spared from paying her coach
fare was a consideration. He did not realise the terrible blow
to Gertrude, to be told that he had taken her child away with
him ; indeed, that she received any announcement at all was the
merest accident. Lord Elvington asked him if he wanted a
frank? and it just struck him that he might as well write a
line and tell Gertrude he was going to Ireland. If it had been
necessary to go to the next room for a sheet of paper, it would
not have been done ; but the writing materials chanced to lie
on the table before him.

At first Clarissa was enchanted ; she laughed and chattered,
and had so many pretty ways, and both the gentlemen were kept
highly amused. But at night the young* lady's spirits subsided.
She flung herself clown on the floor, and cried for her mamma
with so much vehemence, that the chambermaid into whose
charge she had been consigned sent for her papa in dismay.

Mr. Augustus, who had never seen her except in smiles
heartily regretted he had been such a fool as to encumber him-
self with her; if Gertrude had appeared at that moment, he
would have welcomed her arrival as " a stroke of fortune."
But she did not appear, and it was no longer a simple matter to
send Clarissa home. There was nothing for it now but to take
her forwards. She was at length exhausted by crying, and
pacified by the promise that she should see her mamma the nest
day, the poor child sobbed herself to sleep.
21— a

SOS THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

The next day they sailed, and poor Clarissa,
" By expectation every day beguiled,"

learned her first lesson in sorrow. She grew apparently more
reconciled, and her spirits revived with the lightness of child-
hood ; but she generally cried herself to sleep at night, and often
in the midst of being quite lively and merry she would burst
out into passionate crying for her mamma. The poor child was
home-sick and heart-sick, and there was no one to comfort her.
They at last arrived — after what appeared to Clarissa a
journey that would never end — at the Castle of Bally-shally-na-
Sloe, county Sligo, the seat of Mr. Fitz-Vashipot, and one of the
boroughs at stake in the approaching election. Clarissa was
consigned to the care of the housekeeper, and the two gentle-
men commenced their electioneering operations. It was in the
good old times, when an election lasted many days, and many
things were done in public that in these reformed days hide
their nagrancy under a decent bushel. In the riot and con-
fusion and excitement which ensued, Clarissa was almost for-
gotten. Sometimes, when there was any " grand company,"
she was sent into the drawing room before dinner ; otherwise
she was left entirely to the servants of an ill-conducted, dis-
. organised bachelor's household. It was altogether the last
place in which a mother would have placed her child ; and even
Mr. Augustus, careless as he was, went himself to the house-
keeper— an elderly woman, whose soul was vexed with the
doings she saw on all hands — and entreated her to keep Clarissa
in her room, and not to let her run wild, until such time as he
could send her to her grandmother.

" Indeed, sir ! and I think it is her own mother who will be
after havinsr a sore heart for the loss of her. The poor child.

the soraiows op ghxtility. suy

for all she looks so lively just now, is fretting after her mother
till it grieves me to see her ; if I gather rightly from what sh©
tells me the lady does not know where she is ; and this morning
Miss Clary says in her pretty way, 'Oh, Norah! mamma is
sitting by the window now at her work, and expecting me
home, and how am I ever to get out of this big house ? ' "

" Well, well, try to put all that out of her head. I do not
choose her to go back to her mamma : not yet, at any rate —
but keep her with you until I have time to attend to her."

Mr. Augustus put a golden guinea into Mrs. Norah's hand,
and walked off whistling, and switching his boots with a riding-
whip.

He had that morning received a letter from Lord Southend
— written with the best intentions, and the worst possible
tact.

Lord Southend had in his day been a gay and somewhat un-
scrupulous bachelor — but he had married recently, and cast off
the slough of his bachelor days, and come out bright and shin-
ing in the garments of praise and respectability. Having worn
out all the amusement there was to be found in the free and
easy life of old, he had become weary of his " unchartered free
dom," and now found the straight-laces of decorum a comfort-
able support. He looked with all the more sternness on the
course which Augustus was pursuing, as nobody knew better
than himself how extremely worthless it was. Eesides all this,
he had not forgiven Augustus for bringing discredit on his
recommendation by running- away from his situation and his
creditors. But though all these considerations might account
to those aware of them, for the grand seigneur tone of his letter,
they did not render it the least pleasanter to receive.

He called Augustus roundly to account for "the great trouble

310 THE S03EOWS OP GENTILITY.

and distress into which he had plunged his industrious and
excellent wife ; " he exhorted him, much in the style of the re-
formed King Henry, to amend his life ; aud concluded by
expressing a hope that Miss Clarissa might at once be restored
to her mother before other measures were resorted to.

The letter contained no money, nor any intimation of favours
to come.

Mr. Augustus thought he discerned clearly that he had no-
thing more to hope from Lord Southend ; and, as he imagined
he had supplied himself with another, and an equally efficient,
patron in Mr. Fitz-Vashipot, he had no motive for endeavour-
ing to propitiate Lord Southend ; he, therefore, indulged him-
self in the luxury of resentment.

Gertrude had written also by the same post — but her letter,
through some of the wild contradictions and perversities that
prevail in this world, never reached him ; if it had, his conduct
would perhaps have been different, for she had written a gentle
and touching letter, calculated to soothe all the self-love she
might have ruffled. She entreated him to come home, and she
spoke of Clarissa as their child ; with wonderful instinct she had
divined what to say and what to avoid — it was a masterpiece of
maternal sagacity and tenderness ; — and that letter was lost.
The good angel of Augustus Donnelly slumbered when that
occurred, for it might have saved him from committing an act
of devilish cruelty ; at first it had only been an act of culpable
thoughtlessness, but, persisted in, its name became a word with
a deadly meaning.

Lord Southend's well-meant commendations of Gertrude con-
verted the smouldering dislike and sullen wounded self-love of
Mr. Augustus into active malice. He ceased to care for the
trouble Clarissa gave him, in the consciousness of the power it

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 311

gave Mm to torment his wife. He sat down and wrote the two
following letters. The first was in reply to Lord Southend : —

" My Lord, — I should scorn myself were I to allow the sense
of past favours to interfere with the expression of my sincere
and candid opinion of your lordship's letter just received. I
consider it an intrusion into the privacy of my affairs, and I
treat the assertions it contains with the contempt they merit.
Your lordship has shown me some kindness in days gone by, and
I called you friend ; but I cast you from me like a ivithered leaf,
and we are henceforth strangers ! For your information, I tell
you that it is not my intention to allow my daughter to return
to her mother, however 'industrious' or ' excellent' it may please
your lordship to consider her.

" Your lordship's obedient servant,

" Augustus Donnelly."

To Gertrude he wrote more laconically : —

" Gertrude, — As it is my decided intention not to allow you
to have any further charge of your daughter, I beg that you will
acquiesce, and not persecute me with your ill humour, nor insti-
gate strangers to insult me with their remarks upon my private
concerns. I am perfectly aware of your sentiments towards me,
and if you send me any further letters I shall not read them.

" Your husband,

"A. Donnelly."

When Mr. Augustus read over these letters he was highly
satisfied both with the matter and the diction. He got them
franked and posted, and felt a self-complacency to which his
bosom had long been a stranger. He would have been highly
affronted had any one told him that it was a mere flash in the

812 THE SORROWS OP GENTiLITY.

pan, that he was incapable of holding to any purpose which in-
volved the slightest inconvenience, and that, notwithstanding
all his marital bluster, he would send Miss Clarissa back to her
mother the moment it suited him to do so.

If Gertrude had known this, it would have saved her from
mortal pain ; but we none of us make allowance for the incon-
sistency of human nature in our judgment of things and people ;
we persist in believing that they will act according to pro-
gramme— it is our own superstition that invests them with
their power.

THIS B0KR0WS OF GENTILITY. iU3

CHAPTEE' XLTX.

When Gertrude reacted The Cottage she found that her
mother was better — she was still trembling1 on the brink of the
grave; but the crisis was past — she was in no immediate dan-
ger unless she had a relapse.

This was some consolation to Gertrude — the last drop had
not been added to the "waters of the full cup" that had been
" wrung out to her."

Gertrude took her station beside her mother's bed, and as all
agitation and emotion would, the doctor declared, be fatal to the
patient, Gertrude was enabled to control all the evidence of her
own suffering, and to be as quiet and calm as though she had
come in from an ordinary walk. Mrs. Morley was in a con-
dition in which more depended upon the nurse than the doctor ;
Gertrude watched day and night, and felt glad that her mother
was at least spared a grief that was almost heavier than she
could bear. But, even whilst this thought passed in her mind,
" the sin of her youth" rose up to her memory like an accusing
spirit — she had inflicted upon the mother lying there before her
a sorrow far more bitter than even the loss of Clarissa, for she
had added to it the sting of ingratitude, her own " sin had found
her out," and it was only her own measure that had been meted
out to her. She had received no sorrow but what she had

314 the sorrows of gentility.

hitherto deserved. She saw her own past life in a different
light to what she had hitherto regarded it. She had known
great sorrow and remorse for her conduct to her parents ; but
now it seemed to her so black that nothing could equal its base-
ness, that no other human being was so bad and wicked as she
had been ; her repentance began strong and fresh, as though
she had never befere seen the enormity of her sin. It was true
that sorrow had come upon her ; but what was she that she
should complain ? It seemed to her that she ought rather to
receive and entertain her great sorrow in quietness and rever-
ence, as though it were an angel sent from God to commune
with her heart.

The hours thus spent in silent watching beside her mother's
bed were laden Avith the seed of a new and hidden life.

If we would only take sorrow to our heart when it conies
upon us, and treat it nobly, we should find that we had enter-
tained an angel unawares.

At length, thanks in great measure, humanly speaking, to
Gertrude's care and skill in nursing, Mrs. Morley was pro-
nounced convalescent, and allowed to come down stairs.

Then Gertrude told her story, and expressed her desire to go
to Ireland in search of her daughter.

Mrs. Morlcy's sympathy was strong and warm, as a mother's
only can be. Simon Morley was inclined in his heart to take a
very prosaic view of the matter ; he considered that Gertrude
was now without encumbrances, and might come and live with
them, and be re-instated in all her privileges as their daughter.
He thought it only right that Mr. Augustus should support his
own child ; and as for Gertrude's feelings, he did not understand
them. He could only feel and judge like a man and a parish
overseer, as he was !

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 815

He had the grace, however, to abstain from giving any-
decided utterance to these opinions. He only grunted and puffed
clouds of smoke, and asked Gertrude if she thought there was
any chance of getting back the child without getting hold of
the husband at the same time, and intimated she had better keep
quiet and not run the risk of that.

At length the letter came from Mr. Augustus, which was not
in answer to hers. Gertrude handed it to her father in silence.
He put on his spectacles, and read it through.

" A pitiful jackanapes ! He deserves to be flogged at a cart-
tail ! "Why, rough as I am, and queer- tempered as I am, I would
sooner have cut off my right hand than have written such a
letter! Read it, missis, and tell us what you think about it.
Nay, lass, never cry; he is not worth it. Thou shalt go to
Ireland, if it took the last penny I had ! and thou shalt get thy
little lass back aa:ain. Never fear ! A pitiful scoundrel ! A
pretty fellow he is, to write himself !your husband.' It was a
bad day when you first clapped your eye 3 on him. But I am
not going into that again. I have forgiven thee, and there is
an end of it. Thou shalt go, and I will go with thee. Hang- it !
I should enjoy circumventing the rascal. I will consult lawyer
Sadler on the best way of going to work. He is a clever fellow !
none more so. He got a chap off from being hanged who
deserved it as sure as he was born."

This declaration of his intentions had the effect of putting
Simon Morley into high spirits ; either the prospect of circum-
venting his son-in-law, or the testimony of his conscience that
he was acting the part of an affectionate parent, made him feel
quite happy.

The next day there came a letter from Lord Southend,
61101031110' the one he had received from Mr. Augustus. He

816 THE S0EE0W3 OF GDIs' ULIiY.

expressed in a few formal lines his regret at the ill-result of his
interference, and begged that if he could do anything more to
serve her she would let him know. The letter was perfectly
courteous, but it spoke plainly of the difference between the
Lord Southend of yesterday and to-day. The fact was, that Lord
Southend had grown dreadfully discreet. It had been suggested
to him " that he had better not mix himself up in the affairs of
a pretty woman like Mrs. Donnelly, whose husband might after
all have reasons for what he had done," &c, &c, and other
suggestions of a like nature, which he caressed as prudent ; but
an impartial recording angel would have set them down to a
great disinclination to be bothered with any further applications
about Mr. Augustus and his concerns. He fancied that he
" owed it to his wife " not to keep up any further intercourse
with such people. Lord Southend was growing indolent and
middle-aged, and Matrimony bore the blame of it.

Lady Southend continued a staunch friend. She wrote Ger-
trude encouraging letters ; advised her to set off to Ireland
without delay to search for Clarissa; and volunteered, if it
came to the necessity of an appeal to the Chancellor, to furnish
the funds. The old spirit which had animated her ladyship in
her own conjugal difficulties blazed out afresh; the old lady was
sorry to her heart for Gertrude, but, nevertheless, she rather
enjoyed entering the lists against any husband whatever.

She sent Gertrude letters of introduction to friends of hers in
different parts of Ireland ; they were all desired to receive Ger-
trude as her ladyship's friend, and to forward her views in any
way they possibly could.

Gertrude smiled bitterly when she received a sheaf of letters
directed to Viscountesses, Marchionesses, and Honourable Lady-
ships, not a few — in all of which she was described as the dear

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 317

and especial friend of Lady Southend. It was her own old
early dream of worldly consideration come true, but endorsed
with the bitter mockery of her own deep grief.

As soon as Mrs. Morley was well enough to be left, Gertrude
prepared for her journey to Ireland to endeavour to reclaim her
child from her husband.

Simon Morley accompanied her as far as Holyhead, and saw
her on board the packet. He grasped Gertrude's hand at
parting, and whispered,—

" Don't spare the brass, lass ! don't spare the brass ! Thee
art welcome to all thou wants. There is nought like brass for
going through the world and getting thy ends. God bless thee,
and I wish thee well ! "

This was the most paternal benediction which had ever passed
Simon Morley's lips. The state of opposition in which she
stood towards her husband ceemed to restore her in his eyes to
all the virtue of filial allegiance.

The vessel weighed anchor, and all Gertrude's sorrows and
anxieties were for the time merged into the one miserable fact
of being* sea-sick. This was her first experience on the sea, and
it came upon her with a force and originality not to be gainsaid
or set aside by any other consideration whatever.

She was dreadfully ill ; and even the stewardess, blasee as she
was to this branch of human suffering, became somewhat
alarmed.

The passage was long and stormy, and when the vessel
reached Kingstown Gertrude had to be carried on shore to the
hotel.

Tllh SORROWS OP GEXL'ILin

CHAPTER L.

Gertrude was not able to travel the next day; her enforced
repose was made more tolerable by the fact that the stage-coach
which would take her the first twenty miles of her journey only
ran two days in the week, and would not start until the morrow.

Her own sorrow had become merged in the idea of what
Clarissa would be suffering away from her. Thrown amongst
strangers — home-sick and heart-sick, and no one to comfort her.
This was no alleviation of her own pair. — it was only a form it
took, which made it harder to endure. All day long, and all
night through her sleep, she heard the little voice of Clarissa
calling, " Mamma, mamma, come and take me away ! "

Her intention was to proceed first to the residence of Mr.
Fitz-Vashipot at Bally-shally-na-Sloe, county Sligo; but it
was a long way off, four days' journey, as journeys were then
transacted.

No one at the inn could give her any definite information how
she was to get there, and she walked to the post-office to
inquire; but the process of conveying letters across the country
was intricate, and left it little less than miraculous how letters
ever found their way to those intended to read them. No public
conveyance went within thirty miles of the place ; and when
Mr. Fitz-Vashipot was at his castle, which was not often, he sent

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTlLITr. 319

his own rider to Dublin for them, who had relays of post-horses
all the way. Less considerable people residing in the neigh-
bourhood always sent a man or boy to the point where the
letter-bags were left under a stone by the coach as it passed, to
be called for; and the letters that were to go were deposited in
the same place, and taken up by the coach on its return.

Any definite directions were clearly out of the question, so
Gertrude resigned herself to doing the best she conld when the
coach should put her down. The landlady tried to comfort her,
by saying,—

" That she would find ground to walk upon, and God's sky to
cover her, go where she would."

To set off — to be doing something, was the one desire that
consumed Gertrude. The walls crushed her — the air stifled her
— repose was impossible.

The coach was to start at five o'clock in the morning. Ger-
trude did not undress, in order that she might be ready in a
moment; the landlady had unconsciously driven her nearly
mad, by saying, — ■

" It is to be hoped there will be room."

Gertrude lay awake all night, torturing herself by this pos-
sibility, and thinking of what she should do in case all the
places were taken.

However, at five o'clock, just as she had fallen into a cold,
troubled sleep, the guard's horn sounded, and the clattering of
the horses was heard in the court-yard,

Gertrude started up, fearing she was left behind, and that it
was the departure, and not the arrival, of the coach she had
lic^rd.

She was ready in a moment, although her trembling fingers
could scarcely tie her bonnet.

320 THE SOEKOWS OF GEXTILITY.

The chambermaid came in with some breakfast, saying, —

" Make haste, ma'am ; but there is no hurry, and missis begs
you to drink a dish of hot tea before you start. She left it out
for you last night, and I got up myself to make it ; you see the
misses is a lady and she does not get up for the coach. There
is no huurry in life — the coachman has been told you are
coming."

" Is there room ? " asked Gertrude, faintly.

" To be sure ma'am, no fear of that — you will have the inside
all to yourself; so drink your tea in peace, and may the Blessed
Virgin have you in her own keeping, Amen."

" Xow then, is the lady coming ? " cried the voice of the
"boots."

" Don't tremble so, ma'am, you are all right, it is only his
way to hurry people; ths coach won't go for a matter of ten
minutes yet."

Until she was seated and the coach-door shut upon her,
Gertrude did not lose the sickening nightmare feeling that the
coach would drive off before her eyes, and leave her vainly
trying to reach it. When once seated, the sense of relief and
safety overcame her, and she burst into tears.

Every one of the rough men standing round the coach knew
that Gertrude was going in search of her child, who had been
spirited away from her by her husband ; and many expressions
of good wishes and encouragement met her ear.

At length the horses were harnessed: the coachman, after
coming to the window to hope that her ladyship felt comfort-
able, mounted his box, and after more noise and bustle than
would have sufficed to set a whole solar system in motion, the
coach was got under weigh.

Human kindness and human sympathy Gertrude found

THE S0BE0W3 OF GENTILITY. 321

abundantly throughout her journey, but the material means of
continuing her progress were not so easily attainable.

The stage coach left her at the door of a dirty ill-kept
inn, in a ruinous-looking town, which might have been
situated in the moon for anything she knew about its name
or nature.

The coachman had, however, spoken to the landlady about
her, and whispered her story; the landlady, a compassionate
woman, was willing to do anything under heaven for the poor
lady — except furnish her with post-horses — for these, indeed, it
was not the will that was wanting, " but she kept none — they
were so seldom called for."

She brought Gertrude into the kitchen, and made her sit by
the fire, and told her a dozen times over that if she had come
only a month before she would have found running and racing
enough on account of the elections.

" I must go on foot then," said Gertrude.

A decent farmer, who was sitting with some refreshment
before him on the other side of the fire-place, offered to take her
as far as Ballynuggery, if she did not mind riding behind him
on his dame's pillion, as soon as he had given his horse a feed
of hay."

Gertrude gratefully accepted the offer.

"Bring the creature here," said the good-natured landlady,
" and let it have a good feed of corn, to put some spirit into it ;
and whilst the beast is getting ready, your ladyship must have
a taste of something to eat. It would be a sin to go out fasting
and it is what neither man nor beast ever does from this
house."

Little as she felt inclined for food, Gertrude felt the need
there was to keep up her strength; accordingly, she compelled
22

322 TIIE SOEEOWS OF GENTILITY.

herself to swallow some of the boiled chicken and bacon which
the good-natured landlady set before her.

The man who had been out to see after his horse came in
whilst she was eating, and sat down beside the fire, and began
to smoke in silence. As soon as he perceived that Gertrude had
finished he knocked the ashe3 out of his pipe and rose, and
nodding to her, said —

" Xow, if you are ready, ma'am, I am ready too ; you shall
not be delayed by me. A sore heart makes one impatient."

The horse was brought to the door. Gertrude mounted on
the pillion. The landlady wrapped her own blue cloak round
her knees, and begging God and the Holy Virgin to have her
in their keeping, she watched Gertrude and her companion
depart.

The man was silent, for he saw that Gertrude was in no dig-
position for conversation.

Their road lay through a wild flat country, very thinly
peopled, and only partially cultivated — a wild expanse of bog
was the chief feature, the silence was intense, and made the
sound of the horse's hoofs loud and ominous. The dead loneli-
ness affected Gertrude painfully. She felt frightened when
she saw with her eyes, and realised the distance that had been
placed betwixt herself and her child.

It was near sunset when they reached Ballynuggery. Ger-
trude did not know that her companion had sacrificed a day's
harvesting to bring her on her journey. He refused all
remuneration, and Gertrude had difficulty in prevailing uoon
him to take some refreshment with her ; when at last he com-
plied, it was evidently from the fear that she vould be disobliged
by a refusal. When Gertrude tried to utter her sense of tin
kindness he had shown her, he replied quietly —

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 323

" Bare, then, I have only clone as I would wish another to do
by me and mine, if we were in the like trouble."

He did more than this ; he procured her a horse and guide
for the next day, and so wrought on the man's good feelings
that he promised to be ready to start by sunrise, that the poor
lady might make a long day's journey.

When her companion went to wish her " Good-bye " — for he
had to return after a few hours' rest — Gertrude detached a small
cornelian cross from her watch, and putting it into his hands,
begged him to keep it in remembrance of his Christian deed
towards her.

" I'll keep it ma'am ; and I will pray to the Holy Mother, to
comfort your heart, since it is Herself that can pity you."

The man departed, and Gertrude never saw or heard of him
asrain in this world.

Her road, the next day, lay across a wild mountain pass.
Gertrude's heart was too pre-occupied to leave her room for
fear ; she seemed to be borne up with wings, or rather to move
through difficulties like a sleep walker. She was conscious of
but one wish — to get on.

Towards evening they reached a village within twenty miles
of the place she was bound to, and, although her present guide
had been more stolid and less sympathetic than her last, yet he
was sufficiently moved to volunteer that if the lady found her-
self sufficiently rested after an hour or two he would find
another horse, and go on with her to the end of her journey —
for the moon would then be risen, and it would be as light as
day.

Gertrude was only too thankful for the offer, — in which they
both overlooked the fact of the untimely hour at which they
would reach the residence of Mr. Fitz-Vashipot.
22—3

324

THE SOESOWS OF GEXTILITY.

The roads were so bad that their progress was heavy ; they
travelled the whole night, and dawn was breaking as they
halted at the entrance of what should have been the park of
Bally-shally-na-Sloe. A great deal of the timber had been
cut down and the place had a desecrated desolate air, that
gave the beholder, if he loved trees, a sensation as of physical
pain.

Avoiding as well as they could tie felled trees that lay across
the paths, they made their way to the mansion, which was an
immense rambling house, built of dark red brick, with re-turned
wings : the offices were behind. It would have been a hand-
some place had it not looked so dirty and neglected.

" In regard that we are so early," said her conductor, " we
had best go round through a small wicket I know of, which
will take us to the housekeeper's pr raises, maybe some of the
servants are astir."

Gertrude acquiesced; she felt so sick, and her heart beat so
wildly, that she could not articulate a word.

The first word she heard confirmed her worst fears — Mr.
Fitz-Vashipot and all the gentlemen were gone away, and the
little girl had gone with them too — none of the servants knew
where, but, perhaps, when the housekeeper got up she niio-ht
know something. In the meantime, Gertrude and her o-uide
were urged to come in and sit by the fire until the housekeeper
could see them.

It was something to be on the spot where the spot where her
child had been so recently; to poor Gertrude time had lono-
lost its distinctions — it seemed a year since Clarissa had gone
from her.

Whilst waiting in the kitchen, the only place where she
could be introduced, Gertrude heard much of Clarissa of her

THE SOJIROWS OF GENTILITY. o'lj

health, of her "pretty ways," as the dairymaid called them, of
what she used to do, and how she fretted after her mamma.

" Gertrude's heart felt bursting with impatience raid despair
■ — she was broken, too, with fatigue and anxiety — she was in
fact on the brink of a brain fever.

" If you would only call the housekeeper, perhaps, when she
knows who it is that is here, she will not object to rising before
her usual time ; tell her I am Clarissa's mother."

Mrs. Brian did not make herself waited for, almost before
Gertrude hoped she came.

" Come into my room, ma'am, and I will tell you all I can ;
the little girl is in g'ood health, at least when she left here three
weeks ago."

Gertrude followed the housekeeper to her room, where traces
of Clarissa's presence were still visible — an old broken slate
scrawled over with childish drawings — an old child's chair and
table — and a defaced doll.

Gertrude burst into tears, that seemed to break her whole
frame to pieces by their violence. She cried in piercing tones,
" Oh ! Clarissa ! Clarissa ! where are you ? "

The housekeeper wept for sympathy, and the servants who
had followed all joined in the " voice of weeping."

At length the housekeeper recovered her composure suffi-
ciently to clear the room of every one except Gertrude and her-
self. Gertrude became gradually calmer. Though her tears
continued to now, it was more gently.

" Tell where they have taken her."

" I do not know," replied the woman. She cried bitterly to
leave here, for she felt safe-like with me, and she hoped you
would come and fetch her. She did not know where she was
going. Once Mr. Donnelly mentioned her grandmamma, but

326 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

he told her nothing. The poor lamb was home-sick ; she talked
of you greatly; every night when she said her prayers she
added one to beg God to send you to take her away ; and see,
ma'am, she left this. Her father came in while she was writing
it, and made her leave off. He flung it into the fire, but it fell
out, and I picked it up."

Mrs. Brian went to a drawer, and took out a sheet of scorched,
dirty, writing-paper, on which a letter had been begun in child-
ish characters, that had scarcely shape in them. Gertrude seized
on it with ravenous eagerness.

Mrs. Brian continued talking to her about Clarissa, and tell-
ing her everything that she could remember, however trivial,
that she had said or done.

Her words dropped like water in the desert. Gertrude lis-
tened with helpless eagerness. She could scarcely comprehend
what she heard, and she made Mrs. Brian repeat her story
again and again.

One of the domestics put his head in at the door, saying, —

" Please, Mrs. Brian, ma'am, Father O'Toole is in the kitchen;
he was passing by, and came in just promiscuous to give us his
blessing, and maybe it would be a comfort to the poor lady
there."

" Yes ; ask his reverence to step forwards," said Mrs. Brian.

The nervous strength that had supported Gertrude had now
given way, and she sat crouched together taking heed of no-
thing.

Father O'Toole came in ; he did not at the first glance look
like a visitor to the house of mourning. He was short and
rather fat, with a good-humoured face, red, and weather-beaten •
but he had lived in the midst of scenes of suffering and poverty
all his life. He could speak to misery " in its own tongue."

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 827

His voice took a tender, sympathising tone, and his little round
figure became instinct with, the dignity of his high calling when
he approached a sufferer needing his consolation.

He looked pitifully on Gertrude, ■who did not look up on his
entrance.

" God be merciful to you, my daughter," said he, making the
sign of a cross reverently. " What is the trouble that has been
laid upon her, Mrs. Brian ? "

Mrs. Brian told him in as few words as could be reasonably
expected, and expatiated upon Clarissa's beauty and winning
ways.

" I remember her, I have seen her," said he.

Gertrude looked up quickly — " Do you know where she is
now ? "

" No, I do not. But one day, when I dined here, I heard the
child's father speak of going to visit his uncle, Sir Lucius
Donnelly. He may be there now.

" You are only a clay's journey from Glenmore, where he
lives. You might be there by tiiis time to-morrow if you are
able to travel."

Gertrude's faculties seemed to be entirely worn out. She
could no longer take in what she heard.

" Say it again. I do not understand."

The priest repeated his words of encouragement, and added
— -"I know Sir Lucias, and I will go along with you."

" She travelled all night and all yesterday. She has not
rested since she left Dublin," said Mrs. Brian.

" Well, then, put her to bed. She shall not stir a foot to-
day, and as soon as she can move and is come a little to herself,
I will go wherever she wishes. I will not leave her until, by
the blessing of Providence, she has found her daughter, or I see

828 THE SOEE'.»"S -Ji- ".Tjivi-i^iii.

her safe amongst friends, though to be sure when she came to
you she fell in with a Christian. So now, Mrs. Brian, ma'am,
you do your part, and then I will be ready to do mine. Mean-
while I will be after getting some breakfast."

" It is the best of everything your reverence deserves," said
Mrs. Brian, who was beginning to busy herself about Gertrude.

A comfortable bed was made up in the housekeeper's room,
and Gertrude passively allowed herself to be undressed and laid
upon it. The room was darkened, and Mr«, Brian herself kept
watch beside her.

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITT. 329

CHAPTER LI.

When Gertrude awoke after a sleep that had lasted some
hours, she was much refreshed, and appeared to have recovered
all her strength both of body and mind. She would gladly
have started at once, but the priest represented the advantage
of remaining where she was for the remainder of that day, and
setting off at an early hour next morning.

If Clarissa was not at Glenirore, then Gertrude might pro-
ceed to the village where old Mrs. Donnelly had retired. The
priest, who knew well that part of the country, assured her,
that she might reach Glen-pass (the name of Mrs. Donnelly's
place of residence) the same evening. If no Clarissa or tidings
of her were to be obtained there, the priest advised that Ger-
trude should return to Dublin, and there communicate with Mr.
Fitz-Vashipot himself, who would by that time have returned
from Paris, whither, Mrs. Brian said, he purposed going when
he left Bally-na-Sloe.

A great change passed over Gertrude during that day. The
feverish eagerness which had consumed her was g-one, she ap-
peared to have risen superior to all emotions of tenderness, or
anxiety, all other feelings were merged in the stern determina-
tion to recover her child. She was guided and strengthened

330 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

by a steady purpose, and no weak or ten:.": or recollection was
allowed to absorb the strength needed for action. Very quiet
and very grave she was, calm and self-collected.

The next morning very early, Gertrude and Father O'Toole
set off on their journey, each mounted on a stout shaggy pony,
accustomed to the roads. Their route lay over a mountain pass,
and across a country where travellers were obliged to go
through bye places in default of a high road.

Towards three o'clock in the afternoon, Gertrude and her
companion reached Glenmore, a rambling village, headed by a
somewhat dilapidated specimen of Elizabethan building, grey
stone, with many gables and twisted chimneys, standing in the
midst of grounds that had gone to a wilderness, and a moat
which was covered with duckweed.

This was the seat of Sir Lucius Donnelly, and the very heart
of the family grandeur. They rede up the broad but rough and
unrolled walk that led to the deep entrance porch, which was
thickly covered with a luxuriant growth of ivy. No inhabitants
were to be seen except a couple of large grey shaggy hounds,
which were sleeping in the sun with their heads between their
stretched-out paws. They roused themselves at the sound of
the horses' feet, and rushed towards them uttering a deep-
mouthed bay, calculated to shake the nerves and check the
advance of strangers.

" What, Juno ! Ranger ! — bid manners to ye ! Don't you
know me? Quiet, you brutes!" said Father O'Toole, cracking
his whip. The dogs appeared to recognise his voice, for they
began to fawn upon him, though they continued to eye Ger-
trude with suspicion.

A large, athletic, patriarchal-looking man, with milk-white
hair, which fell upon his shoulders — jet-black eyebrows over-

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 331

shading- a pair of large, bright, fierce-looking eyes— advanced
from the house to meet them.

This was no other than Sir Lucius Donnelly, Bart., the foun-
tain of all the Donnelly family grandeur — the flesh and blood
embodiment of Mrs. Donnelly's mythic traditions of the dignity
of the family !

He shaded his eyes from the sun as he approached them, and
then recognising the priest, said, with a certain dignified cor-
diality,—

" You are welome, Father O'Toole — and you also, fair madam,
a thousand times welcome."

" This lady is the wife of your nephew, Augustus Donnelly,"
said Father O'Toole.

"Ah, I have heard of her," replied the old g'entleman, with a
shade of reserve in his manner. " You are welcome, madam, to
the family."

He assisted her to alight with punctilious courtesy, but there
was a want of the cheeriness with which he had first spoken.

"All the men are afield, — -I believe I am the only one at
home."

Indeed the house was as silent as the Palace of the Sleeping
Beauty.

The old chief of the family handed Gertrude with old-
fashioner courtesy across the great hall into a small octag'onal
room, furnished in the fashion of a century before ; the furniture,
of course, much the worse for the lapse of time, and wofully in
need of a housemaid's ministry.

He made Gertrude seat herself in his own large leathern
chair, and then left her alone with Father O'Toole, whilst he
went to see if there were anyone to take the ponies.

" Clarissa is not here," said Gertrude, " or he would have

332 THE S0F.110WS OP GENTILITY.

told us; we may continue our journey as soon as you are
rested."

"I am ready at any moment. But we must stay a little
while — he may know something about your husband; at any
rate he will tell us where to find Mrs. Donnelly."

Gertrude said no more. In a few minutes Sir Lucius returned,
followed by a rosy, smiling servant girl, who proceeded to lay
the cloth and cover the table with a substantial meal.

" Have you come far to-day ? "

" Well, we left Bally-na-Sloe this morning, and you do not
ash what has brought us — we might for all the world have
fallen down, like the image of Lady Diana, from Jupiter ! Are
you not surprised now ?"

"You shall talk after you have eaten and drank, and not
before."

There was a reserve and stiffness through all his hospitality —
a silence quite at variance with his usual manners ; but Gertrude
was scarcely conscious of his presence, and was quite insensible
to the fact that she was in the presence of the great man of the
Donnellys.

Father O'Toole felt more awkward than Gertrude. He knew
that Sir Lucius was expecting an explanation, and he knew that,
with all his politeness, he considered Gertrude an intruder into
the family. He hastened to explain what had brought them,
and their hope of hearing tidings of Mr. Augustus.

The old gentleman had heard nothing of his nephew since his
departure for Africa with his friend Sir Simon. He expressed
great concern at what he heard — told Gertrude he would be
proud of her company as long- as she liked to stay — and thought
that, if his nephew were in the neighbourhood, lie would be sure
to come ; but as to throwing any light on his proceedings, or

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 333

suggesting any plan, that was quite out of his line — he could
do nothing, and he did not even seem to feel the need of doing
anything.

" Oh ! surely, surely he will never keep the child from her
mother ! " were the words he reiterated in a bland, soothing
tone at every pause.

" Can you tell us where we shall find Madam Donnelly, your
respected sister-in-law ? "

" Surely she is at Glen-pass, twelve miles away. My niece is
at Dublin, going to the Castle balls, and treated with every
respect by his Excellency, who is my particular friend. I dined
with him when I was last there."

" Well, then, Sir Lucius, we must push on, or it will be dark
before we get to Glen-pass, for the moon is not to be counted
for daylight, harvest moon though she be. I will fetch the
beasts, with your leave."

Gertrude looked gratefully at Father O'Toole when he said
this. Sir Lucius looked offended, for want of knowing exactly
what to do ; he threw himself up, and said, stiffly, —

" Of course, if you please to go, you must ; but I think it
strange that you are in such haste."

The priest went round for the ponies, and Gertrude sat
watching through the window for his return, quite unconscious
of the presence of Sir Lucius. When he returned, leading them
by their bridle, she rose. She heard the voice of Sir Lucius
dimly sounding, but what he said she did not know. She looked
at him with her large dilated eyes, bright and glittering, and
gave him a strange, absent smile when he put the reins in her
hand. She appeared to say something, for her lips moved, but
no sound came from them. The priest remained a moment
behind, to bid his host farewell.

334 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

" Is she mad, do you think?" asked the old man.

" i'To ; only sorely stricken and afflicted. I will not leave her
till I see her safe with friends."

Gertrude had reached the gate before the priest overtook her.
A few moments more, and a turning in the road hid Glenmore
from the view — and it was like a dream that Gertrude had been
there.

It was eight o'clock before they reached Glen-pass, where old
Mrs. Donnelly had enshrined herself. It was a naked grey-stone
house, without any shelter except the black mountain behind it.

Mrs. Donnelly was little changed from what she had been
when Gertrude left her in London, except that the country air
had renovated her health. The miniature of the departed
Admiral still reposed upon her faithful and ample bosom ; and
her dress of purple satin wa3 evidently hastening to the end of
its term of service; but her turban was as dignified as if it had
been a diadem. She kept up her dignity, and was Mrs. Don-
nelly still !

She might be astonished to see Gertrude, but Gertrude was
scarcely conscious of seeing her. She cut short the stately
periods of her mother-in-law's reception-speech by impatiently
motioning the priest to speak — she could not find voice to utter
a word herself.

" No, she is not here. I have not seen my son ; I did not
know that he was in England. My poor Gertrude, I am sorry
for you!"

" Are you ? " said Gertrude, looking at her, and touched by
the tone in which she spoke.

" Oh, Mrs. Donnelly, tell me what I must do ! How am I to
get back Clarissa ? My last hope was that he had brought her
here to you!"

TEE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 335

"Alas, Gertrude, — I know nothing, I see nothing1, I hear
nothing in this place. Tell me all that has happened ? "

But Gertrude was in no condition to talk. Father O'Toole
told the whole story from the beginning", only making very little
of his own share in it. Gertrude had relapsed into her abstrac-
tion, and heeded nothing.

They were now completely off the track, and had no indica-
tion to guide them further. Letters and newspapers rarely
penetrated to Glen-pass. To remain there would help them
nothing.

The old lady was a good deal softened since her retirement
into obscurity. Her expenses were lessened, whilst her income
remained much as it ever had been ; there was less strain upon
her, and she shone amidst the few county families within reach
with the reflected splendour of " her house in London, where
she had entertained the noblest of the land ! "

Gertrude had looked better in retrospect than in the time
when she had been present, and her mild, conciliating conduct
had taken its effect when she was away. Gradually Mrs. Don-
nelly had persuaded herself that she loved her daughter-in-law,
and had always treated her with maternal kindness.

Miss Sophia, being absent, could not interpose spiteful
speeches. There was nothing" to mar Mrs. Donnelly's reception,
and she really felt quite pleasantly excited at seeing Gertrude
again. Her story, too, was very interesting, and it gave her the
glimpse of a possibility of seeing her son. She would have
overwhelmed Gertrude with caresses, but Gertrude did not care
to receive them. She wanted to hear how they had got on with
Sir Lucius; but Gertrude sat quite silent, and could tell her
nothing.

" We will start on our journey early to-morrow," said the

336 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

priest. "We must go back to Dublin; we shall hear nothing
until we are there."

Mrs. Donnelly was anxious to keep them ; but Gertrude did
not seem to hear her.

The next morning, old Mrs. Donnelly took an excellent fare-
well of Gertrude. She reminded her, with tears, that she
would in all likelihood never see her again in this world, as her
health would not allow her to travel. She took a retrospect of
her own life, and of Gertrude's life since she entered the family.
The Donnelly rhetoric was never before so forcible or so flowery.
There was, however, a touch of real feeling when she spoke of
Gertrude's present condition. She assured her of her protec-
tion and benediction, and promised that, if the opportunity
offered, she would do her best to restore Clarissa to her ; in con-
elusion, she expressed the approbation and esteem in which she
held Gertrude !

When she had ended, she presented her with one of "her
ancestral rings " and an old-fashioned miniature of some female
Donnelly, mounted as a brooch, and set in garnets.

" You promise not to keep Clarissa from me ? " said Gertrude,
answering the only part of the harangue she had heard.

"I promise," replied Mrs. Donnelly, solemnly. Gertrude
turned aside, like a wearied child, to mount the pony that had
stood some minutes at the door.

"Farewell, Gertrude," said Mrs. Donnelly, bestowing upon
her a majestic embrace.

"Good bye, Mrs. Donnelly," and Gertrude rode away without
once looking back.

" I think we had better not return the way we came," said
Father O'Toole. There is another road, and we may as well
take it ; there is the shadow of a chance they may have gone

THE SOEEOWS OF GENTILI1Y. 837

on the other side of the nioutain to that we came by. We may
hear something — let ns try."

" Very well," said Gertrude.

Father O'Toole's benevolent intention in this was to divert
Gertrude's attention, and to give her a hope that he did not in
the least entertain himself; he was completely baffled, and had
not an idea what to advise Gertrude to do when they reached
Dublin.

The road by which they returned was, if possible, more
lonely and thinly peopled than the road by which they went
The first night they slept at a small hamlet; the priest per-
formed mass in the little chapel, and visited some sick people
before he started the next morning.

A bad fever was going about; many in that village were
down with it, and the sight of the good priest was a great
comfort to them. The next day at evening' they reached a
lonely farm-house, standing a little off the road-side. To judge
from the stacks of corn, and ricks, and out-houses, it belonged
to a farmer well to do in the world.

The priest entered the door to ask for a lodging. The
farmer's wife, a comely middled-aged woman, came to meet him.

t: Your reverence and the lady are welcome if the lady is not
afraid of the fever. We have it in the house."

There was no alternative ; no other house was in sight, and
the night was closing in. He determined not to mention the
fact to Gertrude, and to start as early as possible.

The woman led the way into the kitchen, where her husband
and the farm-servants were sitting round the hearth, grave and
silent ; two maid-servants were spinning, and an aged woman
knelt in a distant corner, telling her beads with great emphasis.

All rose when the strangers entered, and the best places on the
23

333 THE SOEBOWS OF GENTILITX

hearth were given to them. One of the men went out to see
after the ponies; the servants put away their spinning1, and
assisted their mistress in getting supper. Suddenly Gertrude,
who had as usual been sitting abstracted from all that was
going on, started violently.

" Hush ! — Do you hear nothing ? "

" I hear nothing. Calm yourself my daughter."

Gertrude listened again — then, rising from her seat, went
direct to a door hidden in the heavy shadow of the chimney
corner.

She opened it, and saw by a dim rush-light a small room
with a bed in one corner, and some one lying upon it. A young
child stood beside the bed, trying to smooth the tumbled bed-
clothes ; her back was to the door — she did not hear it open.

With a single bound Gertrude sprang upon the child, and
clasped it in her arms !

Neither of them spoke — they clung together, holding each
other tight as though they were turned to stone in that embrace.

The priest stood in the doorway behind. Ee had his hand
gently upon her shoulder.

''• Give God thanks, my daughter. This your child was dead,
and is alive again— was lost, and is found ! "

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 339

CHAPTER LII.

When Gertrude could think of anything Vesicle Clarissa,
she approached the bed where her- husband lay. She placed
her hand upon his forehead, and spoke very kindly to him, — but
he did not seem in the least glad to see her! He moved hi 3
head away from her hand, and desired she would go away, as he
wished to be left quiet. Calling Clarissa to him, he desired her
to sit down and stop with him.

" But, Augustus," said Gertrude, " I am sorry to find yon ill,
and I hope to nurse you, and make you well again. I would
have come sooner had I known where to find you."

" I dare say — you are very kind," replied Mr. Augustus, in a
sarcastic tone ; " but I don't want you, and you may go away
again. I did not send for you. Clarissa is as much of a nurse
as I want, and she won't leave me — will you, Clarissa ? "

" I shall not go away until you are quite well again. Clarissa
may help me to nurse you, but she cannot do it alone — it would
kill her. You forget how young she is."

" Go away yourself — I don't want to see you or to hear you.
Go away, I say ! "

Father O'Toole made Gertrude a sign to retire, and to take
Clarissa with her, and then approaching the sick man, said,,
with an air of authority,—
2R— 2

340 THE SORROWS OF GEXTILUT.

" Come, Mr. Donnelly— I am a doctor as well as a priest ; let
me see what is the matter with you. I think the devil has
entered into you at any rate, by the unchristian way you talk.
But the devil comes in the way of my lawful calling — I see I
shall have to deal with you both."

"I am very ill," said Mr. Augustus, in a tone half pathetic
and half ashamed.

" I dare say you are — and I dare say it is not your good deeds
that have brought you to this pass. Just answer me a few
questions, and let me bee what is the matter with you; but if
you are not a little better fashioned, I shall not let either your
wife or your daughter come back to you."

The history of the mystery of what had become of Mr.
Augustus and Clarissa was simple enough when it came to be
known.

On leaving Bally-na-Sloe, Mr. Augustus had accepted the
invitation of one of Mr. Fitz-Vashipot's guests to stop a few
days at his country house, which "few day's," Mr. Augustus
finding his quarters pleasant, had extended to many.

When he again continued his journey towards Clenmore he
was beginning to feel ill, the electioneering hospitalities of Mr.
Fitz-Vashipot and his friends having been on a scale of riotous
living under which the constitution of the Prodigal Son himself
must have broken down.

When Mr. Augustus reached the farmhouse where he was
discovered, he was too ill to go any further, and although the
Irish are horribly afraid of infection, nothing could have been
more generous than the conduct of the farmer and his wife
although their treatment of his case was enough to have killed
him of itself. The farmer's wife insisted upon keepino- the
room at a stifling heat; she refused to have the window open

THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY. 3il

for a second, lest "the disease," as she called it, should spread
abroad.

For all medicine, she gave him a mixture of potheen and hot
buttermilk ; the effect of which was to keep Mr. Augustus both
sick and sorry. Luckily, he had only been under this regimen
since the previous day. The delays under which Gertrude had
so much fretted were actually the means of enabling her to find
him at last.

The farmer and his wife, and all the h usehold, exhibited the
most lively sympathy with the meeting between Gertrude and
her child. The strange accident that had brought all the
parties to their lonely out-of-the-way house, seemed little short
of a miracle; though, as Gertrude, and her husband and child,
were all " heretics," a miracle did not seem exactly an orthodox
solution.

Clarissa was looking thin and pale, and much older, although
scarcely two months had elapsed since she quitted her mother
to go upon her visit to Elvington Park.

" She has been like an angel," said the farmer's wife, " and
the sense she has shown would have done credit to a councillor.
She has nursed her father as if she had been a blessed Sister
of Charity, and she little more than a babe herself. Oh, but it
is to babes that wisdom is promised ! "

Clarissa was very quiet, and only kept close to her mamma,
holding fast by her hand as she sat on a little stool beside her
knee.

Father O'Toole came at last out of the sick man's room, and
taking Gertrude aside, said, — " Your husband has not the fever
that is going about, though what it may turn to I cannot say.
He is very ill and far beyond any little skill of mine in the
science of medicine. You must get him to Dublin for advice,

342 THE SORROWS OF GENTILITY.

whilst he is in a state to be removed. The good man here will
lend you a cart with plenty of clean straw."

" I wish," said Gertrude, " you could pacify his mind towards
me, so far as to allow me to nurse him ; he has taken offence at
me, as you may perceive, though my own conscience is clear
towards him, except that I did not feel, I could not feel, so glad
to see him on his return from abroad as perhaps he expected ;
but I would try to forget the past. If he should get well, and
take Clarissa from me again, what good will my life do me ? "

The priest looked at her kindly and keenly, with a shrewd
half-smile on his good-tempered face, and, shaking his head,
said, — ■

" I'll see if I cannot bring him to reason. He may have been
not altogether right, but I have seen the best of women plague
a man's life out — they can do it when they lay their minds
to it!"

What the priest said to Mr. Augustus was in private, with
closed doors. The result appeared the next time Gertrude
entered the room. Mr. Augustus sat up in bed, propped up
with pillows, and reaching out his hand to her with the air of
a King Ahasuerus, he said, —

THE SOEJJOWS OP GENTILITY. 843

" All ! " rejoined Mr. Augustus, plaintively, " I am very ill —
very. I think I shall soon be under the sod — I shall not trouble
you long."

" Oh, you must not be desponding ; I hope we shall soon have
you well again. We are going' to take you to Dublin early to-
morrow morning."

Whilst she spoke Gertrude had already begun to reduce the
room into something like order, and to allow a little ventilation
to enter it. Augustus found himself more comfortable, and the
idea of the magnanimity he had exercised had a soothing- effect
upon his complacency. Gertrude put Clarissa to bed. She
seemed but now to realise in its full extent all the horror of
having lost her ; all the sins and shortcomings of her husband
had become mere dust in the balance, compared with the dread-
ful power he possessed to take Clarissa away from her again —
and so long as he did not exert that he was most merciful. Se-
curely had he rivetted his yoke upon her now ; and yet at that
moment she put forth a strength and power that she had never
yet felt within her, to gain influence over him, and to endeavour
to turn the inevitable necessity that was laid upon her — to
good.

Now that he lay sick and helpless, she did not hate him. She
felt within herself a consciousness that she had never yet taken
her proper stand beside him. Now she assumed it, and accepted
her lot as his wife ; she made that act of voluntary adoption
which, is needed with all duties before we can discharge them
so as to touch the spring of life that lies within them ; but, that
epring once reached, the most bitter and distasteful of our duties
become to us " a well of life springing up to everlasting life."

Mr. Augustus was not a metaphysician, but he felt the differ-
ence between the wife he had found and the wife he had left.

to

o-Kb TUB E0r.E0V.-3 OF CEXTILIIY.

As far as outward acts of ministration went, the Gertrude of to-
day was no better than the Gertrude of three months ago, but
the difference of spirit was subtle and all-pervading-.

Gertrude had fairly conquered, to its last ramification, the
mistake she bad committed, and which had so long and so
cruelly pursued her in its consequences.

The next morning Gertrude, Father O'Toole, and Clarissa
accompanied Mr. Augustus to Dublin. He had had a good
night's rest, and was somewhat better able to bear the journey
in the cart the good farmer had placed at his disposal, filled
with clean straw and the best feather-bed. Well wrapped and
well propped with pillows, Mr. Augustus was as comfortable as
circumstances permitted.

The farmer himself drove the cart, professing that he "had
business of his own in Dublin city;" but that was a good-
natured pretence, and the act itself went to swell the sum of
the "unrecorded acts" of human kindness, which are more
numerous than might be imagined from the general character
of the world for wickedness.

THE SOEEOWS OF GEXTILIIS.Y 345

CHAPTER LIII.

Areived in Dublin, Gertrude lost no time in procuring the
best medical attendance ; but the fine constitution of Mr. Au-
gustus appeared entirely shattered ; he suffered from a compli-
cation of ailments that might have made him the hero of the
well-known epitaph —

" Afflictions sore,
Long time I bore,
Physicians were in va'n."

As soon, however, as he was able once more to travel, Gertrude
persuaded him to return to London, instead of trying the hospi-
tality of his uncle Sir Lucius.

In London, Gertrude resumed her old business, although the
attendance upon her husband was a great drain upon her time
and strength. After rallying for a few months, Mr. Augustus
relapsed into a confirmed invalid ; he lost the use of bis limbs,
which of course rendered him a complete prisoner at home.

The constant presence of her husband, which had once been Ger-
trude's bugbear, was not nearly so bad when it really came to pass.

The constant call upon her for kindness and tenderness pro-
duced, not love, but a very good substitute for it. Although the
temper of Mr. Augustus did not mend under his sufferings, his
disposition did, and he regarded his wife with very edifying
reverence and a real affection, As to Clarissa, she was a great
comfort to both her parents.

346 THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY.

Gertrude's trial had been fitted to her strength, as everybody
will find their trials when they once honestly take them in hand.

Lady Southend continued to be Gertrude's staunch friend and
patroness.

Old Simon Morley was won to the unheard-of generosity of —
matins* his daughter a fixed allowance in money ! Fortune he
reckoned that she had entirely forfeited ; but her industry won
upon him to allow her a small sum " to set her mind at liberty,"
as he phrased it.

Mrs. Morley came several times to see her daughter, and was
once more won over to forgive her son-in-law all his misdeeds,
by his pleasant tongue and polite manners towards herself;
but especially by the respect with which he now treated her
daughter.

In this manner two years passed away. In the spring of the
third year, which was very cold and the east winds constant,
Mr. Augustus took the opportunity of dying.

He " made a good end," expressed himself penitently and
gratefully to his wife, and expressed a bope that she would have
a happier life after he was gone than she had led with him
Singular to say, Gertrude felt dreadfully sorry at losing him;
her life had become suddenly a blank — her occupation was gone.
He had certainly been a great trouble to her; but we always
love those most who call out our best qualities. Ludy Southend
lost all patience at what slie called " Gertrude's unreasonable
regret for a worthless husband." She declared that " why
Providence had left him alive so long was both a mystery and
an inconvenience to all concerned in him ; " but G ertrnde
persisted in her sorrow in spite of her ladyship's logic.

After her husband's death, Gertrude and Clarissa went to
reside at The Cottage, and in her last days poor Mis. Morley

THE SORROWS OP GENTILITY. 847

realised the dream of her life, "to have some comfort with her
daughter."

Simon Morley, junior, and his wife went on in the even tenor
of their way, paving the way with gold. It had not, however,
the faculty of soothing Mrs. Simon's temper at the same time.

L'envoi.

We imagined that we had finished the history of Gertrude ;
but a report was spread in Dunnington (to be sure it was trace-
able to Mrs. Simon) that the young tanner of whom mention
has been made — whom Gertrude had scorned when a girl, and
who had, out of admiration for her elegance, cultivated his taste
and spent his money upon giving himself an education, but who
never married — had shown a disposition to " come forward "
and try his fortune once more with the fair cause of all his woe.

Gossips prophesied over their tea-tables that Mrs. Donnelly
would not remain a widow two years. Reports are often like
the twilight that precedes the dawn, and come true in the end,
although in the beginning they were only probable.

The young tanner did " come forward," and Gertrude, touched
by his good qualities, and still more by his constancy, consented
to marry him.

Simon Morley gave her his blessing and five thousand pounds,
now that she was marrying a rich husband and did not need it.

Gertrude lived long and happily with her second husband.
She had several children, but she avoided the error that had
worked her so much suffering, and impressed upon them from
their early years what are the Sorrows of Gentilitf.

THE END.

W. H. SMITH & SON, PRINTERS, 186, STRAND, LONDON, W.C.

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