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"LI  B  RAR.Y 

OF   THE 
UNIVERSITY 
or    ILLINOIS 


FROM  THE 

LLOYD  F.  NICKELL 

COLLECTION 

NICKELL 
x823 
Arlw 


V.3 


^^^ 


^^^!°!!!^. 


i^^fy 


1700  „        ,  1800 


^14 


w 


si^y 


«e>'" 


THE 


^^ 


WANDERER; 


OR, 

FEMALE    DIFFICULTIES. 

BY 
THE    AUTHOR    OF 

EVELINA;  CECILIA;  and  CAMILLA. 


IN    FIVE    VOLUMES. 
VOL.  IIL 


LONDON: 

PRINTED   FOR  LONGMAN,  HURST,   REES,  ORME,  AND  BROWN, 
PATERNOSTER-RO  W, 

I814. 


N^ 


1^  1  »,-  p.  ^  to 


THE 


WANDERER 


BOOK  V, 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

IT'ROM  tlie  time  of  this  arrangement, 
the  ascendance  which  Mr,  Naird 
obtained  over  the  mind  of  Elinor,  by  al- 
.ternate  assurances  and  alarms,  relative 
to  her  chances  cf  living  to  see  Har- 
leigli  again,  produced  a  quiet  that  gave 
time  to  the  drafts,  which  v\^ere  adminis- 
tered by  the  physician,  to  take  effect, 
and  she  fell  into  a  profound  sleep.  This, 
Mr.  Naird  said,  might  last  till  late  the 
next  day ;  Ellis,  therefore,  promising  to 
be  ready  upon  any  summons,  returned  to 
her  lodging. 

VOL.  III.  B 


(  2  > 

*'lVliss  Matson,  now,;  endeavoured' to 
make  some  enquiriesj  relativ^e  to'the 
ptiblfc  suicide  p^cjected,  il' nQj>  accom- 
piished,  by  Miss^  Joddrel,  wWch  ^a^ 
the  universal  subject  of  conversation  at 
Brighthelmstone  ;  but  when  she  found 
it  vain  to  hope  for  any  details,  she  said, 
^*  Such  accidents.  Ma'am,  make  one 
really  afraid  of  one's  life  with  persons 
one  knows  nothing  of.  Fray,  Ma'am,  if  it 
is  not  impertinent,  do  you  still  hold  to 
your  intention  of  giving  up  your  pretty 
apartment  ?" 

Ellis  answered  in  the  affirmative,  de- 
siring, with  some  surprise,  to  know, 
-whether  the  question  were  in  conse- 
quence of  any  apprehension  of  a  similar 
event. 

"  By  no  means,  Ma'am,  from  you,'* 
«he  replied  ;  *'  you.  Miss  Ellis,  who  have 
been  so  strongly  recommended;  and  pro- 
tected by  so  many  of  our  capital  gentry; 
but  what  I  mean  is  this.  If  you  really 
intend  to  take  a  small  lodging,  why 
should  tiot  you  have  my  little  room 
again  lip  stairs ?^aH  twouji  uqv  ,dmi- 


(     3     ) 

r  :*'  Is  ifc  not  engaged  to-tlielacly  I.sa*.? 
here  this  morning^'*  f.^Q.. 
--Ki^JV  Why  that,  Ma'am,  is  precisely  the, 
person  I  have  upon  my  mind  to  speak 
about.  Why  should  I  let  her  stay,  whea 
she's  known  to  nobody,  and  is  very  bad 
pay,  if  I  can  have  so  genteel  a  young 
lady  as  you,  Ma'am,  that  ladies  in  their 
own  coaches  come  visiting  ?"  fg^'^g  y 

Ellis,  recoilmg  from  this  preference, 
littered  words  the  most  benevolent  that 
she  could  suggest,  of  the  unknown  per^ 
son  v;ho  had  excited  her  compassion  : 
but  Pvliss  Matson  gave  them  no  atten- 
tion. "  When  one  has  nothing  better 
to  do  with  one's  rooms,  Ma'am,'^.  she 
said,  "  it's  sometimes  as  v/ell,  perhaps, 
to  let  them  to  almost  one  does  not  know 
tvho,  as  to  keep  them  uninhabited ;  be- 
cause living  in  them  airs  them  ;  bat 
-that's  no  reason  for  letting  them  to  one's 
own  disadvantage,  if  one  can  do  bettei. 
Now  this  person  here,  Ma'am,  besides 
being  poor,  which,  poor  thing,  may  b^ 
she  can'4:  help ;  and  being  a  foreigner, 
which,  you  know.  Ma'am,  is  no  great 
u  z 


(     4     > 

reconinaendatioiij^fTf- besides  all  this, 
Miss  Ellis,  she  has  some  very  suspicious 
ways  with  her,  which  I  can't  make  out 
at  all ;  she  goes  abroad  in  a  morning, 
Ma'am,  by  live  of  the  clock,  without 
giving  the  least  account  of  her  haunts. 
And  that,  Ma'am,  has  but  an  odd  look 
with  it!*'  ;  ri  oy-^Ci 

"  Why  so.  Miss  Matson  ?  If  she 
takes  time  from  her  own  sleep  to  enjoy 
a  little  air  and  exei:Qis^,,.,wher.e.  c^n  be 
the  blame  ?"  hnj:  w3JI  it  oltah  ; 

.L.^V  Air  and  exercise.  Ma'am  ?  People 
that  have  their  living  to  get,  and  that 
a'n't  worth  a  farthing,  have  other  things 
to  think  of  than  air  and  exercise!  She 
does  not,  I  hope,  give  herself  quile.sjucii 
airs  as  those  !"  ^4    :^^rM     .^'^trBlzil; 

Ellis,  disgusted,  bid  her  good  night; 
and,  filled  with  pity  for  a  person  who 
seemed  still  more  helpless  and  destitute 
than  herself,  resolved  to  see  her  the 
next  day,  and  endeavour  to  offer  her 
some  consolation,  if  not  assistance. 

Be/pr^,  however,  this  pleasing  project 
couldi  i)qYfiutoi«tQ;i;execution3  she  was 


(     5     ) 

igaift,  nearly  at  day  break,  awakened  by 
a  summons  from  Selina  to  attend  her 
sister,  who,  after  quietly  reposing  many 
hours,  had  started,  and  demanded  Har- 
leigh  and  Ellis. 

Eilis  obeyed  the  call  with  the  utmost: 
expedition,  but  met  the  messenger  re- 
turning to  her  a  second  time,  as  she  was 
mounting  the  street  which  led  to  the 
lodging  of  Mrs.  Maple,  with  intelligence 
that  Elinor  had  almost  immediately 
fallen  into  a  new  and  sound  sleep ;  and 
that  Mr.  Naird  had  ordered  that  no  one 
should  enter  the  room,  till  she  a^icain 
awoke. 

Glad  of  this  reprieve,  Ellis  was  turn* 
ing  back,  when  she  perceived,  at  some 
distance.  Miss  Matson's  new  lodger. 
The  opportunity  was  inviting  for  her 
purposed  otfer  of  aid,  and  she  determined 
to  make  some  opening  to  an  acquaint- 
ance. 

This  was  not  easy ;    for  though  the 
light  feet  of  Ellis  might  soon  have  over- 
taken the  quick,  but  staggering  steps  of 
the  apparently  distressed  person  whom 
B  3 


i    6    J 

slfe  pursued.  sHe  bbserved  Ker'irirb^^iTf'ii 
State  of  perturbation  '  tfia't'  intimidat^cl 
apprbaich,  as  ruucb  asit  awalceitiecl  cbW- 
c'ern/  Her  haiidkercllief  wiis  held'  'tb 
Iier  face;  though  whether  to  conceal  it,  or 
because  she  was  weeping,  could  not  rea- 
dily be  discovered:  but  her  form  and 
air  penetrated  Ellis  with  a  feeling  and 
an  interest  far  beyond  common  6uriio- 
sity ;  and  she  anxiously  studied  hbW 
she    might    better    behold,    atitl   'hb'w 

'address  her.  >io^q^^nu 

The  foreisjner  w  ent  on  her  WtiV,  Ibbk- 
ing  neither  to  the  right  u or  t6'  tM'left, 
till  she  had  ascended  to  the  church- 
yard upon  the  hill.  There  Stopping, 
she  extended  her  arms,  seem.ing  to  hail 

^  the  fujl  view  of  the  Wide  spreading 
ocean";  or"  rather,  Ellis  imagined,  the 
idea  of  her  native  landV'which  she  knew, 
from  that  spot,  to  be  its  boundary.  The 
beauty  of  the  early  morning  from  that 
height,  the  expansive  view,  impressive, 
though  calm,  of  the  sea,  and  the  awful 
sohtude  of  the  place^  wOJLtld  hxi^e  suffieed 
to  occupy  the  mind  of  Ellis,  h^'d"  it  ilot 


4'-    -• 


f    7     ) 

Ibe^a  completely  caught  by  the  person 
^yhom  she  followed  -,  and  who  now,  in 
the  persuasion  of  being  wholly  alone, 
gently  murmured,  "  Oh  ma  chere  pa- 
tri^  I  • —  malheureuse,  coupable,  —  mais 
totijours  chere  patrie  ! — nete  reverrai>je 
jamais  !*'  * 

l,  ,,.Her  voice  thrilled  to  the  very  soul  of 
Ellis,  who,  trembling,  suspended,  and 
almost  breathless,  stood  watching  her 
motions ;  fearing  to  startle  her  by  an 
unexpected  approach,  and  waiting  to 
catch  her  eye. 

But  the  mourner  was  evidently  with- 
out suspicion  that  any  one  was  in  sight. 
Grief  is  an  absorber:  it  neither  seeks 
nor  makes  observation ;  except  where  it 
is  joined  with  vanity,  that  always  de- 
sires remark  ;  or  with  guilt,  by  which 
remark  is  always  feared. 

ElHs,  neither  advancing  nor  receding, 
saw  her  next  move  solemnly  forward,  to 
beujd.Qver  a  small  elevation   of  earth. 


*  '«■  oil  my ToVlar  6otintfyll-niiih%y^;g^1^^^^^ 
&^t  for- ever  loved  country!  —  shall  I  never  «f*e 

B   4 


(     8     ) 

encircled  by  short  sticks,  intersected 
with  rushes.  Some  of  these,  which 
were  displaced,  she  carefully  arranged, 
wdiile  uttering,  in  a  gentle  murmur, 
which  the  profound  stillness  of  -all 
around  alone  enabled  Ellis  to  catch, 
*^  Repose  toi  bien,  mon  ange !  mon  en- 
fant! le  repos  qui  me  fuit,  le  bonheur 
que  j'ai  perdu,  la  tranquilite  precieuse  de 
Fame  qui  m'abandonne  —  que  tout  cela 
soit  a  toi,  mon  ange  !  mon  enfant !  Je 
ne  te  rappelierai  plus  ici !  Je  ne  te  rap- 
pellerais  plus,  meme  si  je  le  pouvais. 
Loin  de  toi  ma  malheureuse  destinee ! 
je  priai  Dieu  pour  ta  conservation  quand 
je  tepossedois  encore  ;  quelques  cruelle's 
que  fussent  tes  souffrances,  et  toute  im- 
puissante  que  j'etois  pour  les  soulager, 
je  priai  Dieu,  dans  Tangoisse  de  mon 
ame,  pour  ta  conservation  !  Tu  n*est 
plus  pour  moi — et  je  cesse  de  te  reclamer. 
Je  te  vois  une  ange !  Je  te  vois  exempt 
a  jamais  de  douleur,  de  crainte^  de  pauv- 
rete  et  de  regrets :  te  reclamerai-je, 
done,  pour  partager  encore  mes  malheurs? 
'5T6n  !    ne  reviens  plu§  a  moi!     Que  j^ 


'(    9     ) 

te  retrouve  la — -ou  ta  felicite  sera  la 
mienne!  Mais  toi,  prie  pour  ta  mal- 
heureuse  mere !  que  tes  innocentes 
prieres  s'nnissent  a  ses  humbles  suppli- 
cations, pour  que  ta  mere,  ta  pauvre 
mere,  puisse  se  rendre  digne  de  te  re- 
joindre  V  * 

How  long  these  soft  addresses,  which 
seemed  to  soothe  the  pious  petitioner, 
might  have  lasted,  had  she  not  been  dis- 

*  ''  Sleep  on,  sleep  on,  my  angel  child !  May 
the  repose  that  flies  me,  the  happiness  that  I  have 
lost,  the  precious  tranquillity  of  soul  that  has  for- 
saken me — be  thine !  for  ever  thine  !  my  child  !  my 
angel  !  I  cease  to  call  thee  back  Even  were  it  in 
my  power,  I  would  not  call  thee  back.  I  prayed 
for  thy  preservation,  while  yet  I  had  the  bliss  of 
possessing  thee  ;  cruel  as  were  thy  sufferings,  and 
impotent  as  I  found  myself  to  relieve  them,  I 
prayed, — in  the  anguish  of  my  soul,  —  I  prayed 
for  thy  preservation !  Thou  art  lost  to  me  now  !— 
yet  I  call  thee  back  no  more !  I  behold  thee  an 
angel !  I  see  thee  rescued  for  evei*  from  sorrow, 
from  alarm,  from  poverty,  and  from  bitter  recollec- 
tions; — and  shall  I  call  thee  back,  to  partake  again 
my  sufferings  ? — No  !  return  to  me  no  more  !  There, 
only,  let  me  find  thee,  where  thy  felicity  will  be 
be  mine!  —  but  thou!  O  pray  for  thy  unhappy 
mother  !  Let  thy  innocent  prayers  be  united  to  her 
humble  supplications,  that  thy  mother,  thy  hapless 
mother,  may  become  worthy  to  Join  thee  ! " 


turbed,  is-uncertain rbut  she;Wa^  startled 
hy  sounds  of'i  mor^  tumultuous  sorj-QW ; 
by  sobs,  rather  than  sighs,  that  seemed; 
burtsing  ibrth  from  mqre  violent,  at. 
least,  more  sudden  afflictioii.  She  lookedi 
round,  astonished  j  and  saw  Ellis  leaning 
over  a  monument,  and  bathed  in  tears,  ol 

P  She  arose,  and,  advancing  towards- 
her,  said,  in  an  accent  of  pity,  "  Helas^ 
Madame,, Y,ou?,  ^ossi  pkui^e^  /vay^iVptr^i 
enfant  ?'*^H-B     ,-!----r:-r^:':i     .^f'('...n^3■m^ 

^rffu  Ah,  mon  amie!  ma  bien!  awee* 
amie !"  cried  Ellis,  wiping  her  e^^es,  hut\ 
vainly  attempting  to  repress  fresh  tears Ip 
'-  t'ai-je  cherchee,  t'ai-je  attendue,  t'ai-je 
si  ardemment  desiree,  pour  te  retrouveri 
ainsi  ?  pleurant  sur  un  tombeau  ?    Et  toiil; 

—  ne  me  rappelle  tu  pas?  M 'a  tu  Oubhee?; 

—  Gabrieiie!  ma  chere  Gabrielle !'" t     >- 

*  "  Alas,  Madam !  are  you,  also,  deploring  the 
loss  of  a  child?"  •    ^    '       ''"■'  '''■'■' 

-\  **  Ah,  my  friend  !  my  muchloved  friend  [  have 
I  jBjoiight  thee,  have  I  akaited  thee,  have  1 1  ^o' '  fdr- 
vently  desired  thy  restordtion  — -  to  find  thee  thi?^!?^. 
Weeping  over  a^grhve  ?". And  thou -u- dost'  thoU'  n<^.> 
recollect    me  ?    Hast  thou   for^otte5«))m*^'?  J-iiO^-'l 
briella !  my  loved  Gabriejlaj! " 

5 


(:    rr     ) 

b^H  Juste  ceil^P^-iyxclaimed'tlilf  S&iet^ 
H  que  vois-je  ?  Ma  Jalie !  ma  cher^^ 
ma  tendre  amie  ?  Est  il  bien  vrar?— -OF 
peut  il  etre  vrai,  qu'il  y  ait  encore  dtt^ 
bonheur  ici  bas  pour  moi  ?^'  *  ^^ 

'A^  Locked  in  each  other's  arms,  pressed 
to  each  other's  bosoms,  they  now  re- 
mained many  minutes  in  speechless 
agony  of  emotion,  from  nearly  ovef-^ 
powering  surprise,  from  gusts  of  un- 
governable, irrepressible  sorrow,  and 
heart-piercing  recollections ;  tliough 
blended  with    the   tenderest   sympathy 

o^'joy. 

.  This  touching  silent  eloquence,  these 
unutterable  conflicts  between  transport 
and  pain,  were  succeeded  by  a  recipro- 
cation of  enquiry,  so  earnest,  so  eager, 
so  ardent,  that  neither  of  them  seemed 
to  have  any  sensation  left  of  self,  from 
excels  of  solicitude  for  the  other  5   till 

9vnn   < 

' ^ / **;Gracious  heaven!  what  do  I  behold?  My 
JvH'iet  I  my  tender  friend  ?      Can  it  be  real  ? —  01? 
c«in  it,. indeed,  be  true,,  that  still  any  happiness  ift/ 
left  pn^arthfojjnel"3t   >7ori;  ?2iiH    ^^tn    J^Jfasai 


C    12   ) 

Ellis,  looking  towards  the  little  grave, 
said,  "  Ah  1  que  ce  ne  soit  plus  ques- 
tion de  moi  ?''  * 

"  Ah,  oui,  mon  amie,'*  answered 
Gabriella,  "  ton  histoire,  tes  malheurs, 
ne  peuvent  jamais  etre  aussi  terribles, 
aussi  dechirants  que  les  miens  !  tu  n'as 
pas  encore  eprouve  le  bonheur  d'etre 
mere  —  comment  aurois-tu,  donc> 
eprouve,  le  plus  accablant  des  malheurs? 
Oh !  ce  sont  des  souffrances  qui  n'ont 
point  de  nom  j  des  douleurs  qui  rendent 
nulles  toutes  autres,  que  la  perte  d'un 
Etre  pur  comrae  un  ange,  et  tout  a 
soi!''  t 

The  fond  embraces,  and  fast  flowing 

*  ^'  Ah!  —  upon  me  can  you,  yet,  bestow  a 
thought?" 

f  "  True,  my  dear  friend,  true  !  thy  history,  thy 
misfortunes,  can  never  be  terrible,  never  be  lacerat- 
ing like  mine  I  Thou  hast  not  yet  known  the  bliss  of 
being  a  mother  ; — how,  then,  canst  thou  have  ex- 
perienced the  most  overwhelming  of  calamities.!  a 
suffering  that  admits  of  no  description !  a  woe  that 
makes  all  others  seem  null  —  the  loss  of  a  being 
p%ire,  spotless  as  a  cherub  — and  wholly  our 
own!" 


(     13    ) 

tears  of  Ellis,  evinced  the  keen  sensi- 
bility  with  which  she  participated  in  the 
sorrows  of  this  afflicted  mother,  whom 
she  strove  to  draw  away  from  the  fatal 
spot;    reiterating  the  most   urgent  en- 
quiries  upoa   every   other    subject,    to 
attract  her,  if  possible,  to  yet  remaining, 
to   living  interests.      But   these   efforts 
were  utterly  useless.    "  Restons,  restons 
ou  nous  sommes!"  she  cried:  "  c'est  ici 
que    je   te   parlerai ;    c'est   ici   que    je 
t'ecouterai;     ici,  ou  je  passe   les  seuls 
momens  que  j'arrache  a  la  misere,  et  au 
travail.     Ne  crois   pas   que   de  pleurer 
est  ce  qu'il  y  a  le  plus  a  craindre  !   Oh  ! 
qu'il  ne  t'arrive  jamais  de  savoir  que  de 
pleurer,  merae  sur  le  tombeau  de  tout  ce 
qui  vous  est  le  plus  cher,  est  un  soulage- 
ment,  un  delice,  aupres  du  dur  besoin  de 
travailler,  la  mort  dans  le   coeur,  pour 
vivre,  pour  exister,  lorsque  la  vie  a  perdu 
toutes  ses  charmes  I"  * 


*  "  Here,  here  let  us  stay !  'tis  here  I  can  best 


to  thee  !  'tis  here,  I  can  best  listen ; — here, 
where  I  pass  every  moment  that  I  can  snatch  from 


(     14     ) 

Seated    thefts   U|>0ti    te^  ttt<}tiumei# 
which  was  nearest  to  the  httle  grave^,^ 
Gabriella  related  the  principal  events  of 
her  life,  since  the  period  of  their  separa- 
tion.    These,  though  frequently  extra-* 
ordinary,  sometimes  perilous,  and  always' 
touchingly    disastrous,    she     recounted 
with   a   rapidity   almost   inconceivable; 
distinctly,    nevertheless,     marking    the 
several  incidents,  and  the  courage  with 
which   she   had    supported   them  :    but 
when,  these  finished,  she  'entered  Upon 
the   history  of  the  rllness  that  had  pre- 
ceded the  death  of  her  little  son,  heil- 
voice  tremblingly  slackened  its  v^locity^; 
afid   unconsciously   lowered   its    tones;/ 
and,  far  from  continuing  with  the  same 
quickness  or   precision,    every   circuin- 


pi&tiury  and  labour  !  Think  not  that  to  weep  is  what 
is  most  to  be  dreaded  ;  oh  never  niayst  thou  learn,  . 
that  to  weep  —  though  upon  the  tomb  of  all  that 
has  been  most  dear  to  thee  upon  earth,  is  a  solace, 
13  a  feeling  of  'soft'ne^s^"ny.y  of  pl^asitr^,  coiinpared 
with  the  hard  necessity  of  toihng,' when  de^^th  hits' 
seized  upon  the  vei-y  fteart,  merely  to  breathe,  te  ' 
exist,  after  life  has  lost  all  its  charms  Vf^'--*-  a^-"^-  '^ 


C   15    ), 

stance  was  dwelt  upon  as  momentous; 
every   recollection    brought  forth   long 
and  endearing  details  ;  every  misfortune 
seemed  light,  put  in  the  scale  with  his 
lo^S;;,  every  regret  seemed  concentrated. 
ia  his  tomb  !  ^  u-olhaq:  H^mi j9moa\,^:iiin  I)  10 
i ;  Six ;  o'clock,    and   seven,   had   tolled 
iHiheeded,    during    this    afflicting,    yet 
soothing  recital;    but  the   eighth   hour, 
striking,  Vi'hen  the  tumult  of  sorrow  was 
subsiding  into  the  sadness  of  grief,  the 
sound  caught  the  ear  of  Gabriella,  who, 
hastily   risings   exclaimed,   '^  Ah;,   voila 
que  je  suis  encore  susceptible  de  plalsir,, 
puisque  ta  societe   m'a  fait  oublier  les- 
tristes  et  penibles  devoirs,  qui  m'appelf; 
lent  a  de3  taches  qui  —  a  peine  —  ai'emn: 
pcjchentide  mo\iY\v ;de  i'i^iva.\'\S  ^:\'hiA  i.\i\i 
At    these    words,    all    tiie   fortitude 
hitherto  sustained   by  Juliet, — for  the 
borrowed  -nam6   of  Ellis   will  now    be 

h*  u"  ■  §1^  jf  I  '^V^  i^ot,  still,  .susceptible  of  pleasure !, , 
Thy  sdipiety  has  made  mo  forget  the, sad  and  painful^, 
duties  that  call  me  hence,  to.  tasks  that, snatch  me,,., 
—  with  difficulty;;,---; fjoajpi  p^ri^iingJ?y,f;^mine  i'*"  .  ,. 


(     i6    ) 

dropt, — "Utterly  forsook  her.  Torrents 
of  t&ars  gushed  from  her  eyes,  and 
lamentations,  the  bitterest,  broke  from 
her  lips.  She  could  bear,  she  cried,  all 
but  this;  all  but  beholding  the  friend 
of  her  heart,  the  daughter  of  her  bene- 
factress, torn  from  the  heights  of  happi- 
ness ^and  splendour;  of  merited  happi- 
ness, of  hereditary  splendour ;  to  be 
plunged  into  such  depths  of  distress, 
and  overpowered  with  anguish. 

"  Ah!  que  je  te  reconnois  bien  a  ce 
trait!"  cried  Gabriella,  while  a  tender 
smile  tried  to  force  its  way  through  her 
tears :  "  cette  ame  si  noble !  si  inebra- 
lable  pour  elle-meme,  si  douce,  si  com- 
patissante  pour  tout  autre !  que  de  sou- 
venirs chers  et  touchans  ne  se  presentent, 
a  cet  instant,  a  mon  coeur !  Ma  chere 
Juhe  1  il  est  bien  vrai,  done,  que  je  te 
vois,  que  je  te  retrouve  encore !  et,  en 
toi,  tout  ce  qu'il  y  a  de  plus  aimable,  de 
plus  pur,  et  de  plus  digne !  Comment 
ai-je  pu  te  revoir,  sans  retrouver  la 
felicite?    Je  me  sens  presque  coupable 


(     17    A) 

de  pouvoir  t'embrasser,  —  et  de  pleurer 
encore  !'*  * 

Forcing  herself,  then,  from  the  fatal 
but  cherished  spot,  she  must  hasten,  she 
said,  to  her  daily  labour,  lest  night 
should  surprise  her,  without  a  roof  to 
shelter  her  head.  But  Juliet  now  de- 
tained her  ;  clung  and  wept  round  her 
neck,  and  could  not  even  endeavour  to 
resign  herself  to  the  keen  woes,  and 
deplorable  situation  of  her  friend.  She 
had  come  over,  she  said,  buoyed  up 
with  the  exquisite  hope  of  joining  the 
darling  companion  of  her  earliest  youth; 
of  sharing  her  fate,  and  of  mitigating  her 
hardships :    but  this  softening  expecta- 

*  "  Ah,  how  I  know  thee  by  that  trait !  thy  soul 
so  noble  !  so  firm  in  itself;  so  soft,  so  commiserat- 
ing for  every  other!  what  tender,  what  touching 
recollections  present  themselves  at  this  instant  to 
my  heart !  Dearest  Juliet !  is  it,  then,  indeed  no 
dream,  that  I  have  found  —  that  I  behold  thee 
again  ?  and,  in  thee,  all  that  is  most  exemplary, 
most  amiable,  and  most  worthy  upon  earth  !  How  is 
it  I  can  recover  thee,  and  not  recover  happiness  ? 
I  almost  feel  as  if  I  were  criminal,  that  I  can  em- 
brace thee,  —  yet  weep  on  ! " 


(     ^8     } 

tioil  was  changed  into  despori4encey-i|T 
discoveriiig  her,  thus,  a  prey  to  unmixt 
calamity  5  not  alone  bowed  down  by  the 
general  evils  of  revolutionary  evea^ts  ^ 
punished  for  plans  in  which  ahe  _  b?^d 
borne  no  part,  and  for  crimes  of  AKbiG^lji 
she  had  not  even  any  knowledge  5  —  not 
only  driven,  without  oHence,  or  even- 
accusation,  from  prosperity  and  honours, 
to  exile,  to  want,  to  misery,  and  to. 
labour ;  but  suffering,  at  the  same  time, 
the  heaviest  of  personal  afflictions,  in  the 
immediate  loss  of  a  darling  child;  the 
victim,  in  all  probability,  to  a  melancholy 
change  of  life,  and  to  sudden  privation 
of  customary  care  and  indulgence! 

Tiie  task  of  consolation  seemed  now 
to  devolve  upon  Gabrielia  :  the  feelings 
of  Juliet,  long  checked  by  prudence,  by 
fortitude,  by  imperious  necessity  j  and 
kept  in  dignified  but  hard  command; 
,  having  once  found  a  vent,  bounded  back 
to  natureand  to  truth,  with  a  vivacity  of 
Jceen  emotion  that  made  them  nearly  un- 
contrGll^blc,   Nature  and  truth,  —-.which 


(     '9     ) 

iftvambly  retain  an  elastic  poW'f?^^tI>At 
rfo 'struggles  eaii  wholly  siibdae  j  and  that 
jllways,  however  curbed,  however  op- 
pressed, —  lie  in  wait  for  opportunity  to 
spring  back  to  their  rights.  Fler  teais^ 
permitted,  therefore,  at  length,  to  flow, 
nearly  deluged  the  sad  bosom  of  her 
friend.  lU  rnuty 

^'''  *^  Helas,  ma  Julie  !  sceur  de  mon 
ame!"  cried  Gabriella^  "  ne  t'abandonne 
pas  a  la  douleur  pour  moi !  inais  paries 
nioi,  ma  tendre  amie,  paries  moi  de  ma 
%sere  !  Ou  l*a  tu  quitte  ?  Et  comment  ? 
Et  a  quelle  epoque  ?  —  La  plus  digne,  la 
'^Uis  cherie  des  meres  !  Helas  !  eloignee 
de  nous  deux,  comment  saura-t-elle  se 
resigtier  a  tant  de  malheurs  ?*'* 

Juliet    uttered    the    tenderest    assur- 
ances, that  she  had  left  the  Marchioness 

,  *  ".Alas,  my  Juliet!  sister  of  my  soul!  abandop. 
not  .thyself  to  sorrow  for  me !  but  speak  to  me, 
my  tender  friend,  speak  to  me  of  my  mother ! 
where  didst  thou  leave  her?  And  how?  And  at 
what  time?  The  most  precious  of  mothers  !  Alas  I 
SL^parated  from  us  both, — how  will  she  be  able  to 
support  sush  acc^itnl*^atiort  of  misfortJines^!" 


(       20      ) 

well ;  and  had  left  her  by  her  own  in- 
junctions, to  join  her  darling  daughter  ; 
to  whom,  by  a  conveyance  that  had  been 
deemed  secure,  she  had  previously 
written  the  plan  of  the  intended  journey; 
with  a  desire  that  a  few  lines  of  direc-- 
tion,  relative  to  their  meeting,  under 
cover  to  L.  S.,  to  be  left  till  called  for, 
might  be  sent  to  the  post-offices  both  of 
Dover  and  Brighthelmstone  ;  as  it  was 
not  possible  to  fix  at  which  spot  Juliet 
might  land.  The  initials  L.  S.  had  been 
fixed  upon  by  accident. 

Filial  anxiety,  now,  took  place  of 
maternal  sufferings,  and  Gabriella  could 
only  talk  of  her  mother ;  demanding 
how  she  looked,  and  how  she  supported 
the  long  separation,  the  ruinous  sacri- 
fices,  and  the  perpetual  alarms,  to  which 
she  must  have  been  condemned  since 
they  had  parted ;  expressing  her  own 
surprise,  that  she  had  borne  to  dwell 
upon  any  other  subject  than  this,  which 
now  was  the  first  interest  of  her  heart ; 
yet  ceasing  to  wonder,  when   she  con- 


(   21   ) 

templatecl  the  fatal  spot  where  her  meet- 
ing with  Juliet  had  taken  place. 

Each,  now,  deeply  lamented  the  time 
and  consolation  that  had  been  lost, 
from  their  mutual  ignorance  of  each 
other's  abode.  Juliet  related  her  fruit- 
less search  upon  arriving  in  London ;  and 
Gabriella  explained,  that,  daring  three 
lingering,  yet  ever  regretted  months, 
she  had  watched  over  her  dying  boy, 
without  writing  a  single  line  ;  to  spare 
her  absent  friends  the  knowledge  of  her 
suspensive  wretchedness.  Since  the 
irreparable  certainty  which  had  followed, 
she  had  -sent  two  letters  to  her  beloved 
mother,  with  ]]er  address  at  Brighthelm- 
stone;  but  both  must  have  miscarried, 
as  she  had  received  no  answer.  That 
Juliet  had  not  traced  her  in  London  was 
little  wonderful,  as,  to  elude  the  curiosity 
excited  by  a  great  name,  she  bad  passed, 
in  setting  out  for  Brighthelmstone,  by  a 
common  one.  And  to  that  change, 
joined  to  one  so  similar  on  the  part  of 
Juliet,  it  must  have  been  owing  that  they 


(  22  ) 

ha(i(:»evfir  lizard  of  eaph  ;Of:]iQ^^4hough 
residents   of   the;  same    place.      Juliet, 
nevertheless,  was  astonished,  in,  defiance 
of  all  alteration  of  attire  and  appearance, 
that  she  had  not   instantly  recognized 
the  air  and    form    of  her  elegant   and 
high   bred  Gabriella.     But,  equally  un- 
acquainted  with   her   indigence,  .which 
w^as  the  effect  of  sundry  cruel  accidents, 
and  with  the  loss  of  lier  child  5    no  ex- 
pectation was  awakened  of  finding  her 
either  in  so  distressed  or  so  solitary  a 
condition.     Now,  however,  Jtdiet  con- 
tinued, that   fortunately,  though,  alas! 
not  happily,  they  had  met,  they  would 
part  no  more.    Juhet  was  fully  at  liberty 
to  go  whithersoever    her  friend  w^ould 
lead,  the  hope  of  obtaining  tidings  qf 
that  beloved  friend,  having  alone  kep,t 
her  stationary  thus  long  at  Brighthelm- 
stone  ;    where  she  could  now  leave  the 
address  of  Gabriella,  at  the  post-office, 
for  their  mutual  letters  :    and,  as  insu- 
pt^fable  obstacles   impeded  belt  i^ritlng 
hc^i^QMi  ii  presenf,  ^l^^Marchioxi' 


(       23       ) 

fess,'  Gatjirielfa  liiight  make  known,  in 
a  dm^ert  manbef,- that  they  were  toge- 
thei",  and  were  both  safe.      ^sr^i:>*ijtMV9ft 

And  why,  Gabriella  demanded,  could 
not  Juliet  write  herself? 
''''^'«  Alas  !''  Juliet  replied,  "  I  must  not 
even  be  named  !"  ^i^ii^iich. 
ji'jfec  £1^^  pour  quoi  ?  —  n'a-t-tu  pas  vu 
fes  parens  ? — Pent  on  te  voir  sans 
t^aimerf  te  connoitre  sans  te  cherir?  Non, 
ina  Julie,  non  !  tu  n'a  qn'a  te  montrer."* 

Juliet,  changing  colour,  dejectedly, 
and  not  without  confusian,  besought  her 
friend,  though  for  reasons  that  could 
neither  be  assigned  no-r  surmounted,  to 
dispense,  at  present,  with  all  personal 
narration.  Yet,  upon  perceiving  the 
anxious  surprise  occasioned  by  a  request 
^o'  little  expected,  she  dissolved  into 
tears,  and  offered  every  communication, 
iii'preference  to  causing  even  transitory 
pain  to  her  best  friend.    --^-'  ^-'- 

.J'- ,  r  f  ■■fT 

•n  f  jf  I  i^f  ,s^nd  why  ?  Jflast  thou  not  seen  thy  relatioi>s? 
-—Canst  thou  be  seen,  and  not  k)ved?  —  known, 
ami  not  cherished?  No,  my  Juliet,  no  1  thou  hast 
only  to  appear !" 


(       24      ) 

«  O  loin  de  moi  cette  exigeance!*' 
cried  Gabriella,  with  energy,  "  Ne  sais-je 
pas  bien  que  ton  bon  esprit,  juste  emule 
de  ton  excellent  cceur,  te  fera  parler 
lorsqu'il  le  faudra  ?  Ne  me  confierai-je 
pas  a  toi,  dont  la  seule  etude  est  le 
bonheur  des  autres?*'* 

Juliet,  not  more  penetrated  by  this 
kindness,  than  affected  by  a  facile  resig- 
nation, that  shewed  the  taming  effect  of 
misfortune  upon  the  natural  vivacity  of 
her  friend,  could  answer  only  by  caresses 
and  tears, 

"  Eh  mon  oncle?**  continued  Ga- 
briella;  '*  mon  tout-aimabie  et  si  pieux 
oncle  ?  ou  est  ilr''  * 

"  Monseigneur  PEveque  ?"  cried  Ju- 
liet, again  changing  colour ;  "  Oh  oui ! 

*  "  Oh  far  from  me  be  any  such  insistence ! 
Know  I  not  well  that  thy  admirable  judgment,  just, 
counterpart  of  thy  excellent  heart,  will  guide 
thee  to  speak  when  it  is  right  ?  Shall  I  not  entirely 
confide  in  thee  ?  —  In  thee,  whose  sole  study  has 
been  always  the  good  and  happiness  of  others  ?  " 

*  "  And  my  uncle !   My  so  amiable,  so  pious 
uncle  ?  Where  is  he  ?  " 


(     25    ) 

tout-airaable !    sans    tache    et    sans  re- 
proche  !  —  II  sera  bientot,  je  crois,   ici ; 

—  ou  j'aurois  de  ses  nouvelles  ;  et  alors 

—  ma  destinee  me  sera  connue !"  * 

A  deep  sigh  tried  to  swallow  these 
last  words.  Gabriella  looked  at  her,  for 
a  moment,  with  re-awakened  earnestn^ess, 
as  if  repentant  of  her  own  acquiescence; 
but  the  sight  of  encreasing  disturbance 
in  the  countenance  of  Juliet,  checked 
her  rising  impatience ;  and  slie  quietly 
said,  "  Ah!  s'il  arrive  ici!  —  si  je  le 
revois, — j'eprouverai  encore,  au  milieu 
de  tant  de  desolation,  un  mouvement  de 
joiel  —  tel  que  toi,  seule,  jusqu'a  ce  mo- 
ment, a  su  m'en  inspirer  I'^t 

Juliet,  with  fond  delight,  promised  to 

*  "My  lord  the  Bishop? — Oh  yes!  yes!  — 
amiable  indeed  !  —  pure  !  —  without  blemish !  — 
He  will  soon,  I  believe,  be  here ;  or  I  shall  have 
some  intelligence  from  him  ;  and  then  —  my  fate 
will  be  known  to  me  ! " 

f  ''  Ah,  should  he  come  hither !  —  should  I  be 
blest  again  by  his  sight,  1  should  feel,  once  mor  , 
even  in  the  midst  of  my  desolation,  a  sensation  of 
joy  —  such  as  thou,  only,  as  yet,  hasi,  o.  en  able  to 
re-awaken ! " 

VOL.  Ill,  C 


(       26       ) 

be  governed  wholly,  in  her  future  plans, 
occupations,  and  residence,  by  her  be- 
loved friend. 

*'  C'est  a  Brighthelmstone,  done," 
cried  Gabriella,  returning  to  the  little 
grave ;  "  c'est  ici  que  nous  demeurions  ! 
ici,  ou  il  me  semble  que  je  n'ai  pas  en- 
core tout  a  fait  perdu  mon  fils !" 

Then,  tenderly  embracing  Juliet, 
**  Ah,  mon  amiel"  she  cried,  with  a 
smile  that  blended  pleasure  with  agony ; 
*^  ah,  mon  amie !  c'est  a  mon  enfant  que 
je  te  dois!  c'est  en  pleurant  sur  ses 
Testes  que  je  t'ai  retrouvee  !  Ah,  ouiT* 
passionately  bending  over  the  grave; 
*'  c'est  a  toi,  mon  ange !  mon  enfant ! 
cfueje  dois  mon  amie  I  Ton  tombeau, 
meme,  me  porte  bonheur!  tes  cendres 
veulent  me  benir  1  tes  restes,  ton  ombre 
veulent  du  bien  a  ta  pauvre  mere !"  * 

*  *'  'Tis  at  Brighthelmstone,  then,  —  'tis  here 
that  we  must  dwell !  Here,  where  I  seem  not  yet, 
entirely,  to  have  lost  my  darling  boy  !  Oh  my  friend ! 
my  dearest,  best  loved  friend  !  'tis  to  him — to  my 
child,  that  I  am  indebted  for  seeing  thee  again 
'tis  in  visiting  his  remains  that  I  have  met  my  Juliet ! 


(     27     ) 

With  difficulty,  now,  Juliet  drew  her 
away  from  the  fond,  fatal  spot ;  and 
slowly,  and  silently,  while  clinging  to 
each  other  with  heartfelt  affection,  they 
returned  together  to  their  lodgings. 


—  Oh  thou!  my  child!  my  angel!  'tis  to  thee^to 
thee,  I  am  indebted  for  my  friend !  Even  thy  grave 
offers  me  comfort !  even  thy  ashes  desire  to  bless 
me !  Thy  remains,  thy  shadow,  would  do  good, 
would  bring  peace  to  thy  unhappy  mother  !" 


C    2 


(     28     ) 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

TJpLINOR,  kept  in  order  by  a  con- 
tinual  expectation  of  seeing  Har- 
leigh,  ceased  to  require  the  presence  of 
Juliet  J  who,  but  for  the  sorrows  of  her 
friend,  would  have  experienced  a  felicity 
to  which  she  had  long  been  a  stran- 
ger, the  felicity  of  being  loved  because 
known  ;  esteemed  and  valued  because 
tried  and  proved.  The  consideration 
that  is  the  boon  of  even  the  most  gene- 
rous benevolence,  however  it  may  soothe 
the  heart,  cannot  elevate  the  spirits : 
but  here,  good  opinion  was  recipro- 
cated, trust  was  interchanged,  confidence 
was  mutual. 

The  affliction  of  Gabriella,  though  of 
a  more  permanent  nature,  because  from 
an  irreparable  cause,  was  yet  highly 
susceptible  of  consolation  from  friend- 


(       49      ) 

ship ;  and  when  once  the  acute  emotions, 
arising  from  the  tale  of  woe  which  she 
had  had  to  relate,  at  the  meeting,  were 
abated,  the  charm  which  the  presence  of 
Juliet  dispensed,  and  the  renewal  of 
early  ideas,  pristine  feelings,  and  first 
affections,  soon  reflected  back  their  in- 
fluence  upon  her  own  mind ;  which 
gradually  strengthened,  and  insensibly 
revived. 

Juliet  immediately  resigned  her  large 
apartment,  and  fixed  herself  in  the  small 
room  of  Gabriella.  There  they  settled 
that  they  would  live  together,  work  to- 
gether, share  their  little  profits,  and  en- 
dure their  failures,  in  common.  There 
they  hoped  to  recover  their  peace  of 
mind,  if  not  to  re-animate  their  native 
spirits  5  and  to  be  restored  to  the  har- 
mony of  social  sympathy,  if  not  to  that 
of  happiness. 

Yet,  it  was  with  diflSculty  that  they 
learnt  to  enjoy  each  other's  society,  upon 
such  terms  as  their  altered   condition 


(    3°    ) 

ndw  exacted ;  where  the  eye  must  never 
be  spared  from  laborious  business,  to 
search,  or  to  reciprocate  a  sentiment,  in 
those  precious  moments  of  endearing 
converse,  which,  unconsciously,  swell 
into  hours,  ere  they  are  missed  as  mi- 
nutes. Their  intercourse  was  confined 
to  oral  language  alone.  The  lively  intel- 
ligence, the  rapid  conception,  the  arch 
remark,  the  cordial  smile  ;  which  give 
grace  to  kindness,  playfulness  to  coun- 
sel, gentleness  to  raillery,  and  softness 
even  to  reproach  ;  these,  the  expressive 
sources  of  delight,  and  of  comprehen- 
sion, in  social  commerce,  they  were  fain 
wholly  to  relinquish  ;  from  the  hurry  of 
unremitting  diligence,  and  undivided 
attention  to  manual  toil.  ^ 

Nevertheless,  to  inhale  the  same  air, 
and  to  feel  the  consoling  certitude,  that 
they  were  no  longer  cast  wholly  up- 
on pity,  or  charity,  for  good  opinion. 
Were  blessings  that  filled  their  thoughts 
with     gratitude     to     Providence,    and 


C  31  v 

brought  back  calm  and  comfort  to  their 
minds.  ■-  si«v*.  •  , 

Still,  at  every  sun-rise,  Gabriella  visit- 
ed the  ashes  of  her  little  son ;  where 
she  poured  forth,  in  maternal  enthu- 
siasm, thanks  and  benedictions  upon  his 
departed  spirit,  that  her  earliest  friend, 
the  chosen  sharer  of  her  happier  days, 
was  restored  to  her  in  the  hour  of  her 
desolation  ;  and  restored  to  her  There, — 
on  that  fatal,  yet  adored  spot,  which 
contained  the  ever  loved,  though  lifeless 
remains  of  her  darling  boy. 

Juliet,  in  this  peaceful  interval,  learnt, 
from  the  voluble  Selina,  all  that  had 
been  gathered  from  Mrs.  Golding  rela- 
tive to  the  seclusion  of  Elinor. 

Elinor  had  travelled  post  to  Ports- 
mouth, whence  she  had  sailed  to  the  Isle 
of  Wight.  There,  meeting  with  a  foreign 
servant  out  of  place,  she  engaged  him 
in  her  service,  and  bid  him  purchase 
some  clothes  of  an  indigent  emigrant. 
iShe  then  dressed  herself  grotesquely 
c  4 


(    32    ) 

yet,  as  far  as  she  could,  decently,  in 
man's  attire ;  and,  making  her  maid 
follow  her  example,  returned  to  the 
neighbourhood  of  Brighthelmstone,  and 
took  lodgings,  in  the  character  of  a 
foreigner,  who  was  deaf  and  dumb,  at 
Shoreham  ;  where,  uninterruptedly,  and 
unsuspectedly,  she  resided.  Here,  by 
means  of  her  new  domestic,  she  obtained 
constant  intelligence  of  the  proceedings 
of  Juliet ;  and  she  was  no  sooner  in- 
formed of  the  musical  benefit,  in  which 
an  air,  with  an  harp-accompaniment, 
was  to  be  performed  by  Miss  Ellis,  then 
she  sent  her  new  attendant  to  the  as- 
sembly-room, to  purchase  a  ticket. 
Golding,  who  went  thither  with  the 
lackey,  met  Harleigh  in  the  street,  as 
he  was  quitting  the  lodgings  of  Juliet. 

The  disguise  of  the  maid  saved  her 
from  being  recognised  j  but  her  tidings 
set  h  r  mistress  on  fire.  The  moment 
seemed  now  arrived  for  the  long-destined 
catastrophe;  and  the  few  days  preceding 


C    33    ) 

the  benefit,  were  spent  in  its  prepara- 
tion. Careless  of  what  was  thought, 
Elinor,  had  since,  casually,  though  not 
confidentially,  related,  that  her  intention 
had  been  to  mount  suddenly  into  the 
orchestra,  during  the  performance  of 
Juliet;  and  thence  to  call  upon  Harleigh, 
whom  she  could  not  doubt  would  be 
amongst  the  audience;  and,  at  the  instant 
of  his  joining  them,  proclaim  to  the 
whole  world  her  immortal  passion,  and 
expire  between  them.  But  the  fainting 
fit  of  Juliet,  and  its  uncontrollable  effect 
upon  Harleigh,  had  been  so  insupport- 
able to  her  feelings,  as  to  precipitate  her 
design.  She  acknowledged  that  she  had 
studied  how  to  die  without  torture,  by 
inflicting  a  wound  by  which  she  might 
bleed  gently  to  death,  while  indulging 
herself,  to  the  last  moment,  in  pouring 
forth  to  the  idol  of  her  heart,  the  fond 
effusions  of  her  ardent,  but  exalted 
passion. 

The  tranquillity  of  Elinor,  built  upon 
c  5 


(     34     ) 

false  expectations,  could  not  be  long 
unshaken  :  impatience  and  suspicion 
soon  took  its  place,  and  Mr.  Naird  was 
compelled  to  acknowledge,  that  Mr. 
Harleigh  had  set  out  upon  a  distant 
tour,  without  leaving  his  address,  even 
at  his  own  house  ;  where  he  had  merely 
given  orders  that  his  letters  should  be 
forwarded  to  a  friend. 

The   rage,   grief,   and  shame  of  the 

wretched  Elinor,  now  nearly  destroyed,  in 

a  moment,  all  the  cares  and  the  skill  of 

Mr.  Naird,   and  of  her  physician.     She 

impetuously    summoned    Juliet,    to    be 

convinced  that  she  was  not  a  party  in 

the  elopement ;    and  was  only  rescued 

from  sinking  into  utter  despair,  by  adroit 

exhortations   from  Mr.  Naird,   to  yield 

patiently   to    his    ordinances,    lest    she 

should  yet  die  without  a  last  view  of 

Harleigh.     This  plea  led  her,  once  more, 

though  w^ith  equal  disgust  to  herself  and 

to  the  whole  world,  to  submit  to  every 

medical  direction,  that  might  give  her 

sufficient  strength  to  devise  means  for 


(    35    ) 

her  ultimate  project;  and  to  put  them 
into  practice. 

Mr.  Naird  archly  confessed,  in  pri- 
vate, to  Juliet,  that  the  real  danger  or 
safety  of  Miss-Joddrel,  so  completely 
hung  upon  giving  the  reins,  or  the  curb, 
to  her  passions,  that  she  might,  without 
much  difficulty,  from  her  resolution  to 
die  no  other  death  than  that  of  heroic 
love,  in  the  presence  of  its  idol,  be  spur- 
red  on,  while  awaiting,  or  pursuing,  its 
object,  to  the  verge  of  a  very  comfortable 
old  age. 

He  acknowledged  himself,  also,  se- 
cretly entrusted  with  the  abode  of  Mr. 
Harleigh. 

Ehnor,  when  somewhat  calmed,  de- 
manded of  Juliet  when,  and  how,  her 
meetings  with  Harleigh  had  been  re- 
newed. 

Juliet  recounted  what  had  passed ; 
sparing  such  details  as  might  be  hurtful, 
and  solemnly  protesting  that  all  inter- 
course was  now  at  an  end. 

With  a  view  to  draw  Elinor  from  this 
c  6 


(    36    ) 

agitating  subject,  she  then  related,  at 
full  length,  her  meeting,  in  the  church- 
yard, with  the  friend  whom  she  had  so 
long  vainly  sought. 

In  a  short  time  afterwards,  feeling 
herself  considerably  advanced  towards  a 
recovery,  Elinor,  impetuously,  again 
sent  for  Juliet,  to  say,  "  What  is  your 
plan  ?  Tell  it  me  sincerely !  What  is 
it  you  mean  to  do  ?" 

Juliet  answered,  that  her  choice  wa3 
small,  and  that  her  means  were  almost 
null :  but  when  she  lamented  the  severe 

DIFFICULTIES  of  a  FEMALE,  who,  without 

fortune  or  protection,  had  her  way  to 
make  in  the  world,  Elinor,  with  strong 
derision,  called  out,  "  Debility  and 
folly!  Put  aside  your  prejudices,  and 
forget  that  you  are  a  dawdling  woman, 
to  remember  that  you  are  an  active 
human  being,  and  your  female  diffi- 
culties will  vanish  into  the  vapour  of 
which  they  are  formed.  Misery  has 
taught  me  to  conquer  mine !  and  I  am 
now  as  ready  to  defy  the  world,  as  the 


(    37    ) 

world  can  be  ready  to  hold  me  iip  to 
ridicule.  To  make  people  wise,  you 
must  make  them  indifferent  j  to  give 
them  courage,  you  must  make  them 
desperate.  'Tis  then,  only,  that  we 
throw  aside  affectation  and  hypocrisy, 
and  act  from  impulse.^' 

Laughing,  now,  though  with  bitter- 
ness, rather  than  gaiety,  "  What  does  the 
world  say,"  she  cried,  "to  find  that  I 
still  live,  after  the  pompous  funeral  ora- 
tions, declaimed  by  myself,  upon  my 
death?  Does  it  suspect  that  I  found 
second  thoughts  best,  and  that  I  delayed 
my  execution,  thinking,  like  the  man  in 
the  song, 

That  for  sure  I  could  die  whenever  I  would, 
But  that  I  could  live  but  as  long  as  I  could  ? 

"  Well,  ye  that  laugh,  laugh  on  !  for  I, 
when  not  sick  of  myself,  laugh  too ! 
But,  to  escape  mockery,  we  must  all  be 
guided  one  by  another ;  all  do,  and  all 
say,  the  very  same  thing.  Yet  why  ? 
Are  we  alike  in  our  thoughts  ?     Are  we 


(     38     ) 

alike  in  our  faces  ?  No.  Happily,  how- 
ever, that  soporiferoLis  monotony  is  be- 
ginning to  get  obsolete.  The  sublimity 
of  Revolution  has  given  a  greater  shake 
to  the  minds  of  men,  than  to  the  king- 
doms  of  the  earth.'* 

After  pausing,  then,  a  few  minutes, 
^'  Ellis,"  she  cried,  "  if  you  are  really 
embarrassed,  why  should  you  not  go 
upon  the  stage  ?  You  know  how  tran- 
scendently  you  act." 

"  That  which  might  seem  passable  in 
a  private  representation/'  Juliet  an- 
swered, "  might,  at  a  public  theatre — '* 

"  Pho,  pho,  you  know  perfectly  well 
your  powers.  But  you  blight  them,  I 
suppose,  yourself,  with  anathemas,  from 
excommunicating  scruples?  You  are 
amongst  the  cold,  the  heartless,  the  un- 
o-Ifted,  who,  to  discredit  talents,  and 
render  them  dangerous,  leave  their 
exercise  to  vice,  by  making  virtue  fear 
to  exert,  or  even  patronize  them  ?'* 

"  No,  Madam,  indeed,"  cried  Juliet: 
"  I  admire,  most  feelingly,  the  noble 


(    39    ) 

art  of  declamation: — how,  theiij  can  I 
condemn  the  profession  which  gives  to 
it  Hfe  and  soul  ?  which  personifies  the 
most  exalted  virtues,  which  brings  be- 
fore us  the  noblest  characters,  and  makes 
us  witnesses  to  the  sublimest  actions? 
The  stage,  well  regulated,  would  be  the 
school  of  juvenile  emulation ;  would 
soothe  sorrow  in  the  unhappy,  and  afford 
merited  relaxation  to  the  laborious. 
Reformed,  indeed,  I  wish  it,  and  purified  ^ 
but  not  destroyed.'^ 

tc  Why,  then,  do  you  disdain  to  w^ar 
the  buskins  ?" 

"  Disdain  is  by  no  means  the  word. 
Talents  are  a  constant  source  to  me  of 
delight ;  and  those  who,  —  rare,  but  in 
existence,  —  unite,  to  their  public  exer- 
cise, private  virtue  and  merit,  I  honour 
and  esteem  even  more  than  I  admire  j 
and  every  mark  I  could  shew,  to  such, 
of  consideration,  —  were  I  so  situated  a* 
to  bestow,  not  require  protection !  —  I 
should  regard  as  reflecting  credit  not  on 
them,  but  on  mvself." 


(     40     ) 

"  Pen  and  ink  !"  cried  Elinor,  impa- 
tiently :  "  I'll  write  for  you  to  the 
manager  this  moment! — " 

"  Hold,  Madam !"  cried  Juliet  smiling: 
<«  Much  as  I  am  enchanted  with  the  art, 
I  am  not  going  to  profess  it !  On  the 
contrary,  I  think  it  so  replete  with 
dangers  and  improprieties,  however 
happily  they  may  sometimes  be  com- 
batted  by  fortitude  and  integrity,  that, 
when  a  young  female,  not  forced  by 
peculiar  circumstances,  or  impelled  by 
resistless  geniits,  exhibits  herself  a  will- 
ing candidate  for  public  applause  ;  — 
she  must  have,  I  own,  other  notions,  or 
other  nerves,  than  mine  !" 

"  Ellis,  Ellis!  you  only  fear  to 
alarm,  or  offend  the  men  —  who  would 
keep  us  from  every  office,  but  making 
puddings  and  pies  for  their  own  precious 
palates  i  —  Oh  woman  !  poor,  subdued 
woman!  thou  art  as  dependant,  mentally, 
upon  the  arbitrary  customs  of  man,  as 
man  is,  corporally,  upon  the  established 
laws  of  his  country  !'* 


(     41      ) 

She  now  grew  disturbed,  and  went  on 
warmly,  though  nearly  to  herself. 

"  By  the  oppressions  of  their  own 
statutes  and  institutions,  they  render  us 
insignificant ;  and  then  speak  of  us  as  if 
we  were  so  born !  But  what  have  we 
tried,  in  which  we  have  been  foiled  ? 
They  dare  not  trust  us  with  their  own 
education,  and  their  own  opportunities 
for  distinction  :  —  I  except  the  article  of 
%hting ;  against  that,  there  may,  per- 
haps, be  some  obstacles  :  but  to  be  con- 
demned, as  weaker  vessels  in  intellect, 
because,  inferiour  in  bodily  strength  and 
stature,  we  cannot  cope  with  them  as 
boxers  and  wrestlers !  They  appreciate 
not  the  understandings  of  one  another 
by  such  manual  and  muscular  criterions. 
They  assert  not  that  one  man  has  more 
brains  than  another,  because  he  is  taller ; 
that  he  h  endowed  with  more  illus- 
trious virtues,  because  he  is  stouter. 
They  judge  him  not  to  be  less  ably 
formed  for  haranguing  in  the  senate ; 
for  administering  justice  in  the  courts 
of  law  ;  for  teaching  science  at  the 
6 


(     42      ) 

universities,  because  he  could  ill  resist 
a  bully,  or  conquer  a  footpad !  No !  — 
Woman  is  left  out  in  the  scales  of  human 
merit,  only  because  they  dare  not  weigh 
her  !'* 

Then,  turning  suddenly  to  Ellis, 
"  And  you,  Ellis,  you!"  she  cried, 
"  endowed  with  every  power  to  set 
prejudice  at  defiance,  and  to  shew  and 
teach  the  world,  that  woman  and  man 
are  fellow-creatures,  you,  too,  are  coward 
enough  to  bow  down,  unresisting,  to 
this  thraldom  ?*' 

Juliet  hazarded  not  any  reply. 

"  Yet  what  futile  inconsistency  dis- 
penses this  prejudice  !  This  Woman, 
whom  they  estimate  thus  below,  they 
elevate  above  themselves.  They  require 
from  her,  in  defiance  of  their  examples  ! 
—  in  defiance  of  their  lures  !  —  angelical 
perfection.  She  must  be  mistress  of  her 
passions;  she  must  never  Hsten  to  her 
inclinations  ;  she  must  not  take  a  step 
of  which  the  purport  is  not  visible;  she 
must  not  pursue  a  measure  of  which  she 
cannot  publish  the  motive ;  she  must 
1 1 


C     43     ) 

always  be  guided  by  reason,  though 
they  deny  her  understanding !  —  Frank- 
ness, the  noblest  of  our  qualities,  is  her 
disgrace  ;  —  sympathy,  the  most  exqui- 
site of  our  feelings,  is  her  bane  !  — " 

She  stopt  here,  conscious,  colouring, 
indignant,  and  dropt  the  subject,  to  say, 
**  Tell  me,  I  again  demand,  what  is  it 
you  mean  to  do  ?  Return  to  your  con- 
cert-singing and  harping  ?'* 

"  Ah,  Madam,'*  cried  Juliet,  re- 
proachfully, "  can  you  believe  me  not 
yet  satisfied  with  attempting  any  sort  of 
public  exhibition  ? 

"  Nay,  nay,"  cried  Elinor,  resuming 
her  careless  gaiety,  "  what  passed  that 
evening  will  only  have  served  to  render 
you  more  popular.  You  may  make 
your  own  terms,  now,  with  the  managers, 
for  the  subscription  Avill  fill,  merely  to  get 
a  stare  at  you.  If  I  were  poor  myself,  I 
would  engage  to  acquire  a  large  fortune, 
in  less  than  a  week,  by  advertising,  at 
two-pence  a  head,  a  sight  of  the  lady 
that  stabbed  herself," 


(     44     ) 

"  What,  however/'  she  continued, 
"  is  your  purpose?  Will  you  go  and 
live  with  Mrs.  Ireton  ?  She  is  just  come 
hither  to  give  her  favourite  lap-dog  a  six 
weeks'  bathing.  What  say  you  to  the 
place  of  her  toad-eater?  It  maybe  a 
very  lucrative  thing ;  and  I  can  procure 
it  for  you  with  the  utmost  ease.  It  is 
commonly  vacant  every  ten  days.  Be- 
sides, she  has  been  dying  to  have  you  in 
her  toils,  ever  since  she  has  known  that 
you  spurned  the  proposition,  when  it 
was  started  by  Mrs.  Howel." 

Juliet  protested,  that  any  species  of 
fatigue  w^ould  be  preferable  to  subser- 
vience of  such  a  sort. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  afraid  of  seeing 
too  much  of  Ireton  r  Be  under  no  ap- 
prehension. He  makes  it  a  point  not  to  ^ 
visit  her.  He  cannot  endure  her.  Be- 
sides, 'tis  so  rustic,  he  says,  to  have  a 
mother !" 

Juliet  answered,  that  her  sole  plan, 
now,  was  to  be  guided  by  her  friend. 

"  And  who  is  this  friend?  Is  sjie  of 


(    45     ) 

the  family  of  the  Incognitas,  also  ?  What 
do  you  call  her  ?  —  L.  S.  ?" 

Juliet   only  replied   by   stating  their 
project  of  needle-work. 

Elinor  scoffed  the  notion  ;  affirming 
that  they  would  not  obtain  a  morsel  of 
bread  to  a  glass  of  water,  above  once  in 
three  days.  She  felt,  nevertheless,  suffi- 
cient respect  to  the  design  of  the  noble 
fugitive,  to  send  her  a  sealed  note  of 
what  she  called  her  approbation. 

This  note  Juliet  took  in  charge.     It 
contained  a  draft  for  fifty  pounds. 

Ah,  generous  Elinor  !  thought  Juliet, 
tears  of  gratitude  glistening  in  her  eyes  : 
what  a  mixture  of  contrasting  qualities 
sully,  and  ennoble  your  character  in 
turn !  Ah,  why,  to  intellects  so  strong, 
a  heart  so  liberal,  a  temper  so  gay,  is 
there  not  joined  a  better  portion  of  judg- 
ment, a  larger  one  of  diffidence,  a  sense 
of  feminine  propriety,  and  a  mind  rec- 
tified by  religion,  —  not  abandoned, 
uncontrolled,  to  imagination  ? 

Gabriella,  though  truly  touched  by  a 


(    46    ) 

generosity  so  unexpected,  declined  ac- 
cepting its  fruits;  not  being  yet,  she 
said,  so  helpless^  however  poor,  as  to 
prefer  pecuniary  obligation  to  industry* 
She  would  leave,  therefore,  the  donation, 
for  those  who  had  lost  the  resources  of 
independence  which  she  yet  possessed  — ^ 
youth  and  strength. 

The  tender  admiration  of  Juliet  for- 
bade all  remonstrance,  and  excluded 
any  surprise.  She  well  knew,  and  had 
long  seen,  that  the  distress  which  is  the 
offspring  of  public  calamity,  not  of  pri* 
vate  misfortune,  however  it  may  ruin 
prosperity,  never  humbles  the  mind. 
*  Gabriella,  in  a  letter  of  elegant  ac- 
knowledgements, to  obviate  any  accu- 
sation of  undue  pride,  solicited  the 
assistance  of  Elinor,  in  procuring  orders 
for  embroidery,  amongst  the  ladies  of  her 
acquaintance* 

Elinor,  zealous  to  serve,  and  fearless 
to  demand,  instantly  attacked,  by  note  or 
by  message,  every  rich  female  at  Brigbt- 
helmstone^    urging  the  generous,   and 


(    47    ) 

shaming  the  niggardly,  till  there  was 
scarcely  a  woman  of  fortune  in  the  place, 
who  had  not  given,  or  promised,  a  com- 
mission for  some  fine  muslin-work. 

The  two  friends,  through  this  com- 
manding protection,  began  their  new 
plan  of  life  under  the  most  favourable 
auspices;  and  had  soon  more  employ- 
ment than  time,  though  they  limited 
themselves  to  five  hours  for  sleep ; 
though  their  meals  were  rather  swallow- 
ed than  eaten  ;  and  though  they  allowed 
not  a  moment  for  any  kind  of  recrea- 
tion, of  rest,  or  of  exercise  >  save  the 
sacred  visit,  which  they  unfailingly  made 
together,  at  break  of  day,  to  the  little 
grave  in  the  church-yard  upon  the  hill. 

Yet  here  first,  since  her  arrival  on  the 
British  shores,  the  immediate  rapturous 
moment  of  landing,  and  the  fortnight 
passed  with  Lady  Aurora  Granville  ex- 
cepted, here  first  sweet  contentment, 
soft  hopes,  and  gentle  happiness  visited 
the  bosom  of  Juliet.  No  privation  was 
hard,  no  toil  was  severe,  no  application 
was   tedious,   while   the   friend   of   her 


(     48     ) 

heart  was  by  her  side  ;  whose  sorrows  she 
could  mitigate,  whose  affections  she 
could  share,  and  whose  tears  she  could 
sometimes  chace. 

But  this  relief  was  not  more  exquisite 
than  it  was  transitory ;  a  week  only  had 
passed  in  delicious  repose,  when  Gabri* 
ella  received  intelligence  that  her  hus- 
band was  taken  ill. 

Whatever  was  her  reluctance  to  quit- 
ting the  spot,  where  her  memory  was 
every  moment  fed  with  cherished  recol- 
lections, she  could  not  hesitate  to  de- 
part; but,  when  Juliet,  in  consonance 
with  her  inclination  and  her  promise, 
prepared  to  accompany  her,  that  hydra- 
headed  intruder  upon  human  schemes 
and  desires.  Difficulty,  arose,  in  as 
many  shapes  as  she  could  form  projects, 
to  impede  her  wishes.  Money  they  had 
none  :  even  for  the  return  to  town  of 
Gabriella,  her  husband  was  fain  to 
have  recourse  for  aid  to  certain  admir- 
able persons,  whose  benevolence  had 
enabled  her,  upon  the  illness  of  her  son, 
to  quit  it  for  Brighthelmstone :  and,  in 

15 


(      49     ) 

a  situation  of  indigence  so  obvious, 
could  they  propose  carrying  away  with 
them  the  work  with  which  they  were 
entrusted?  Juliet,  indeed,  had  still 
Hadeigh's  bank  notes  in  her  possession  ; 
but  she  turned  inflexibly  from  the  temp- 
tation of  adopting  a  mode  of  conduct, 
which  she  had  always  condemned  as 
weak  and  degrading  ;  that  of  investing 
circumstance  with  decision,  in  conscien- 
tious dilemmas. 

These  terrible  obstacles  broke  into  all 
their  plans,  their  wishes,  their  happi- 
ness ;  involved  them  in  new  distress,  de- 
luged them  in  tears,  and,  after  every 
effort  with  which  ingenious  friendship 
could  combat  thern,  ended  in  compelling 
a  separation.  Gabriella  embraced,  with 
pungent  affliction,  the  sorrowing  Juliet; 
shed  her  last  bitter  tears  over  the  grave 
of  her  lost  darling,  and,  by  the  assistance 
of  the  angelic  beings*  already  hinted  at, 
whose   delicacy,   whose   feeling,   whose 

*  Residing  in,  and,  —  in  1795  !  —  at  the  foot  of 
Norbury  Park. 

V0,L,  III.  D 


(     so     ) 

respect  for  misfortune,  made  their  bene- 
ficence as  balsamic  to  sensibility,  as  it 
was  salutary  to  want,  returned  alone  to 
the  capital.  -a  2[^;c|  /^  p 

Juliet  thus,  perforce,  remaining^  and 
once  again  left  to  herself,  was  nearly 
overwhelmed  with  grief  at  a  stroke  so 
abrupt  and  unexpected ;  so  ruinous  to  her 
lately  acquired  contentment,  and  dearly 
prized  social  enjoyment.  Yet  she  suffered 
not  regret  and  disappointment  to  con- 
sume her  time,  however  cruelly  they 
preyed  upon  her  spirits,  and  demolished 
her  comfort.  Solitarily  she  continued 
the  employment  which  she  had  socially 
begun;  but  without  relaxing  in  diligence 
and  application,  without  permitting  her- 
self the  smallest  intermission  that  could 
be  avoided  :  urged  not  alone  to  maintain 
herself,  and  to  replace  what  she  had 
touched  of  the  deposit  of  Harleigh,  but 
excited,  yet  more  forcibly,  by  the  fond 
hope  of  rejoining  her  friend  ;  to  which 
she  eagerly  looked  forward,  as  the  result 
and  reward  of  her  activity  and  labour.  ^ 

I 


(  si  y 

bii^il  .  .ill  (Sniji'ioiairn  loi  josqe^i 

CHAPTER  XLIIL 

T  EFT  thus  to  herself,  and  devoted  to 
incessant  work,  Juliet  ne'iit,  had  the 
vexation  to  learn,  how  inadequate  for 
entering  into  any  species  of  business  was 
a  mere  knowledge  of  its  theory* 

She  had  concluded  that,  in  consecrat- 
ing her  time  and  her  labours  to  so 
simple  an  employment  as  needle-work, 
she  secured  herself  a  certain,  though  an 
hardly  earned  maintenance:  but,  as  her 
orders  became  more  extensive,  she  found 
that  neither  talents  for  what  she  under- 
took, nor  even  patronage  to  bring  them 
into  notice,  was  sufficient ;  a  capital  also 
was  requisite,  for  the  purchase  of  frames, 
patterns,  silver  and  gold  threads,  span- 
gles, and  various  other  articles  j  to  pro- 
cure which,  she  was  forced,  in  the  very- 
commencement  of  her  new  career, 
again  to  run  in  debt. 

D    2 


(     52     ) 

Alas!  she  cried,  where  business  is  not 
necessary  to  subsistence,  how  little  do 
we  know,  believe,  or  even  conceive,  it's 
various  difficulties !  Imagination  may 
paint  enjoyments  ;  but  labours  and 
hardships  can  be  judged  only  from  ex- 
perience ! 

She  was  equally,  also,  unprepared  for 
continual  and  vexatious  delays  of  pay- 
ment. Her  work  was  frequently,  when 
best  executed,  returned  for  capricious 
alterations  ;  or  set  apart  for  some  distant 
occasion,  and  forgotten;  or  received  and 
worn,  with  no  retribution  but  by  pro- 
mise. Even  the  few  who  possessed 
more  consideration,  seemed  to  estimate 
her  time  and  her  toil  as  nothing,  because 
she  was  brought  forward  by  recommen- 
dation ;  and  to  pay  debts  of  common 
justice,  with  the  parade  of  generosity. 

Yet,  vanity  and  false  reasoning  set 
apart,  the  ladies  for  whom  she  worked 
were  neither  hard  of  heart  nor  illiberal ; 
but  they  had  never  known  distress !  and 
were  too  light  and  unreflecting  to  weigh 


(     53     ) 

the  circumstances  by  which  it  might  be 
produced,  or  prevented. 

To  save  time,  and  obviate  innumerable 
mortifications,  Juliet,  at  first,  employed 
a  commissioner  to  carry  home  her  work, 
and  to  deliver  her  bills ;  but  he  re- 
turned always  with  empty  messages, 
that  if  Miss  Ellis  would  call  herself,  she 
should  be  paid.  Yet  when,  with  what* 
ever  reluctance,  she  complied,  she  was 
ordinarily  condemned  to  wait  in  pas- 
sages, or  anti-chambers,  for  whole  hours, 
and  even  whole  mornings  ;  which  were 
commonly  ended  by  an  excuse,  through 
a  footman,  or  lady's  maid,  that  Lady  or 
Miss  such  a  one  was  too  much  engaged, 
or  too  much  indisposed,  to  see  her  till 
the  next  day.  The  next  day,  when, 
with  renewed  expectation,  she  again 
presented  herself,  the  same  scene  was 
re-acted ;  though  the  passing  to  and 
fro  of  various  comers  and  goers,  proved 
that  it  was  only  to  herself  her  fair  cre» 
ditor  was  invisible. 

^  3 


(     54     ) 

"Nevertheless,  if  she  mentioned  that 
she  had  some  pattern,  or  some  piece  of 
work,  finished  for  any  other  lady  to 
exhibit,  she  was  immediately  admitted  ; 
though  still,  with  regard  to  payment, 
she  was  desired  to  call  again  in  the 
evening,  or  tlie  next  morning,  with  a 
new  bill ;  her  old  one  happening,  iin- 
Juckily,  to  be  always  lost  or  mislaid  ; 
and  not  seldom,  while  stopping  in  an 
anti-room,  to  arrange  her  packages,  she 
heard  exclamations  of  "  How  amaz- 
ingly tiresome  is  that  Miss  Ellis  !  pester- 
ing one  so,  always,  for  her  money  1" 

Is  it  possible,  thought  Juliet,  that  com- 
mon humanity,  nay,  common  sense, 
will  not  tell  these  careless  triflers,  that 
their  complaint  is  ^  lampoon  upon  them- 
selves ?  Will  no  reflexion,  no  feeling 
point  out  to  them,  that  the  time  which 
they  thus  unmercifully  waste  in  humiliat- 
ing attendance,  however  to  themselves 
it  m.ay  be  a  play-thing,  if  not  a  drug,  is, 
to  those  who  subsist  but  by  their  use  of 
it,  shelter,  clothing,  and  nourishment  r 


(     55    ) 

If  sometimes,  in  the  hope  of  exciting 
more  attention  from  this  dissipated  set, 
^he  ventured  to  drop  a  mournful  hint, 
that  she  was  a  novice  to  this  hard  kind 
of  life ;  the  warm  compassion  that 
seemed  rapidly  kindled,  raised  expecta- 
tions of  immediate  assistance ;  but  the 
emotion,  though  good,  took  a  direction 
that  made  it  useless ;  it  merely  played 
about  in  exclamations  of  pity  ;  then 
blazed  into  curiosity,  vented  itself  in 
questions.  —  and  evaporated. 
ii?She  soon,  therefore,  ceased  all  at- 
tempt to  obtain  regard  through  personal 
representations ;  feeling  yet  more  mor- 
tified to  be  left  in  passages,  or  recom- 
mended to  domestics,  after  avowing 
that  her  lowly  state  was  the  effect  of 
misfortune  ;  than  while  she  permitted  it 
to  be  presumed,  that  she  had  nothing  to 
brook  but  what  she  had  been  born  and 
bred  to  bear. 

Some,  indeed,  while  leaving  tlieir  own 
just  debts  unpaid  and  unnoticed,  would 
have  collected,  from  their  friends,  a  few 
D  4 


(    56    ) 

straggling  half-crowns ;  but  when  Juliet^ 
declining  such  aid,  modestly  solicited 
her  right,  they  captiously  disputed  a  bill 
which  had  been  charged  by  the  strictest 
necessity;  or  offered  half  what  they 
would  have  dared  propose  to  any  ordi- 
nary and  hired  day-jobber.  And  what- 
ever admiration  they  bestowed  upon  the 
taste  and  execution  of  work  prepared 
for  others,  all  that  she  finished  for  them- 
selves, was  received  with  that  wary  pre- 
cursor of  under-valuing  its  price,  con- 
tempt; and  looked  over  with  fault-finding 
eyes,  and  unmeaning  criticism. 

Yet,  if  the  following  day,  or  even  the 
following  hour,  some  sudden  invitation 
to  a  brilliant  assembly,  made  any  of  these 
ladies  require  her  services,  they  would 
give  their  orders  with  caressing  solicita- 
tions for  speed  ;  rush  familiarly  into  her 
room,  three  or  four  times  in  a  day,  to 
see  how  she  went  on ;  supplicate  her  to 
touch  nothing  for  any  other  human  be- 
ing; load  her  with  professions  of  regard; 
confound  h^r  with  hurrying  entreaties  j 


(    57    ) 

shake  her  by  the  hand;  tap  her  on  the 
shoulder  ;  call  her  the  best  of  souls  ; 
assure  her  of  their  eternal  gratitude  ;  and 
torment  her  out  of  any  time  for  sleep  or 
food :  —  yet,  the  occasion  past,  and 
the  work  seen  and  worn,  it  was  thought 
of  no  more!  Her  pains  and  exertions, 
their  promises  and  fondness,  sunk  into 
the  same  oblivion ;  and  the  commonest 
and  most  inadequate  pay  was  murmured 
at,  if  not  contested. 

Now  and  then,  however,  she  was  sur- 
prised by  sudden  starts  of  kindness,  and 
hasty  enquiries,  eagerly  made,  though 
scarcely  demanding  any  answer,  into  her 
situation  and  affairs  ;  followed  by  draw- 
ing her,  with  an  air  of  confidence,  into  a 
dressing-room  or  closet :  —  but  there, 
when  prepared  for  some  mark  of  favour 
or  esteem,  she  was  only  asked,  in  a 
mysterious  whisper,  whether  she  could 
procu'e  any  cheap  foreign  lace,  or  French 
gloves  ?  or  wh.ether  she  could  get  over 
from  France,  any  particularly  delicate 
paste  for  the  hands. 

^  5 


(     58     ) 

To  ladles  and  to  behaviour  of  this 
<^ast,  there  were,  however,  exceptions  y 
especially  amongst  the  residents  of  the 
place  and  it's  neighbourhood,  who  were 
not  there,  like  the  visitors,  for  dissipa- 
tion or  irregular  extravagance,  that, 
alternately,  causes  money  to  be  loosely 
squandered,  and  meanly  held  back. 
But  this  better  sort  was  rare,  and  sufficed 
not  to  supply  employment  to  Juliet  for 
her  maintenance,  though  the  most  par- 
simonious. Nor  were  there  any  amongst 
them  that  had  the  leisure,  or  the  dis- 
cernment, to  discover,  that  her  mind 
both  required  and  merited  succour  as^ 
much  as  her  circumstances. 

Yet  there  was  the  seat  of  w^hat  she 
had  most  to  endure,  and  found  hardest 
to  sustain.  Her  short,  but  precious 
junction  with  her  Gabriella,  gave  poig- 
nancy to  every  latent  regret,  and  added 
disgust  to  her  solitary  toil.  Thoughts 
uncommunicated,  ideas  unexchanged, 
fears  unrevealed,  and  sorrows  unpartici- 
pated,  infused  a  heaviness  into  her  ex- 


(    59    ) 

istence,    that    not    all   her  activity    in 
business  could  conquer  ;  while  slackness 
of  pay,  by  rendering  the  result  of  her 
labours  distant  and  precarious,  robbed 
her  industry   of  cheerfulness,   and  her 
exertions  of  hope.     With  an  ardent  love 
of  elegant  social    intercourse,  she  was 
doomed  to   pass  her   lonely  days  in    a 
room    that  no  sound  of  kindness    ever 
cheered;  with  enthusiastic  admiration  of 
the  beauties  of  Nature,  she  was  denied 
all  prospect,  but  of  the  coarse  red  tilings 
of  opposite  attics  :    with  an  innate  taste 
for  the  fine  arts,  she  was  forced  to  exist 
as  completely  out  of  their  view  or  know- 
ledge, as  if  she  had  been  an  inhabitant 
of  some  unciviHzed  country  :   and  fellow- 
feeling,  that  most  powerful   master   of 
philanthropy!    now  taught  her  to   pity 
the  lamentations  of  seclusion  from  the 
world,  that  she  had  hitherto  often  con- 
temned  as    v/eak  and  frivolous ;   since 
now,  though  with  time  always  occupied, 
and  a  mind  fully  stored,  she   had   the 
bitter  self-experience   of  the  weight  of 
D   6 


(    6o     ) 

solitude    without    books,    and    of    the 
gloom  of  retirement  without  a  friend. 

During  this  period,  the  only  notice 
that  she  attracted,  was  that  of  a  gouty 
old  gentleman,  whom  she  frequently  met 
upon  the  stairs,  when  forced  to  mount 
or  descend  them  in  pursuit  of  her  fair 
heedless  creditors.  She  soon  found,  by 
the  manner  in  which  he  entered,  or 
quitted,  at  pleasure,  the  apartment 
that  she  had  recently  given  up,  that 
he  was  her  successor.  He  was  evidently 
struck  by  her  beauty,  and,  upon  their 
first  meeting,  looked  earnestly  after  her 
till  she  was  out  of  sight ;  and  then,  de- 
scended into  the  shop,  to  enquire  who 
she  was  of  Miss  Matson,  Miss  Matson, 
always  perplexed  what  to  think  of  her, 
gave  so  indefinite,  yet  so  extraordi- 
nary an  account,  that  he  eagerly  await- 
ed an  opportunity  of  seeing  her  again. 
Added  examination  was  less  calculated 
to  diminish  curiosity,  than  to  change  it 
into  pleasure  and  interest;  and  soon, 
during  whole  hours  together,  he  perse- 
16 


(     6i     ) 

veringly  watched,  upon  the  landing- 
places,  for  the  moriients  of  her  going 
out,  or  coming  back  to  the  house  ;  that, 
while  smiling  and  bowing  to  her  as  she 
passed,  he  might  obtain  yet  another,  and 
another  view  of  so  singular  and  so  lovely 
an  Incognita. 

As  he  annexed  no  fixed  idea  himself 
to  this  assiduity,  he  impressed  none 
upon  Juliet ;  who,  tliough  she  could 
not  but  observe  it,  had  a  mind  too  much 
occupied  within,  for  that  mental  listiesa- 
ness  that  applies  for  thoughts,  conjec- 
tures, or  adventures  from  without. 

Soon,  however,  becoming  anxious  to 
behold  her  nearer,  and,  soon  after,  to 
behold  her  longer,  he  contrived  to  place 
himself  so  as  somewhat  to  obstruct, 
though  not  positively  to  impede,  her 
passage.  The  modest  courtesy,  which 
she  gave  to  his  age,  when,  upon  her  ap- 
proach, he  made  way  for  her,  he  pleased 
himself  by  attributing  to  his  palpable 
admiration ;  and  his  bow,  which  had 
always  been  polite,  became  obsequious  5 


(     62     ) 

and  his  smile,  which  had  always  spoken 
pleasure,  displayed  enchantment. 

Still,  however,  there  was  nothing  to 
alarm,  and  little  to  engage  the  attention 
of  Juliet  5  for  though  ostentatiously 
gallant,  he  was  scrupulously  decorous. 
His  manners  and  deportment  were  old- 
fashioned,  but  graceful  and  gentleman- 
like 5  and  his  eyes,  though  they  had 
lost  their  brilliancy,  were  still  quick, 
scrutinizing,  and,  where  not  softened  by 
female  attractions,  severe. 

One  day,  upon  her  return  from  a 
fruitless  expedition,  as  fearfully,  while 
ascending  the  stairs,  she  opened  a  paper 
that  had  just  been  delivered  to  her  in 
the  shop,  her  deeply  absorbed  and  per- 
plexed air,  and  the  sigh  with  which  she 
looked  at  its  contents,  induced  him, 
with  heightened  interest,  to  attempt 
following  her,  that  he  might  make  some 
enquiry  into  her  situation.  He  had 
discerned,  as  she  passed,  that  what  she 
held  was  a  bill ;  he  could  not  doubt  her 
poverty  from  her  change  of  apartment ; 


(    63    ) 

and  he  wished  to  oiFer  her  some  assist- 
ance :  but  finding  that  he  had  no  chance 
of  overtaking  her,  before  she  reached 
her  chamber,  he  gently  called,  "  Young 
lady !"  and  begged  that  she  would  stop. 

With  that  alacrity  of  youthful  purity, 
which  is  ever  disposed  to  consider  age 
and  virtue  as  one,  she  not  only  complied, 
but,  seeing  the  difficulty  with  which  he 
mounted  the  stairs,  respected  his  infir- 
mities, and  descended  herself  to  meet 
him,  and  hear  his  business. 

To  a  younger  man,  or  to  one  less 
experienced,  or  less  sagacious,  this  ac- 
tion might  have  appeared  the  effect  of 
forwardness,  of  ignorance,  or  of  levity  ; 
but  to  a  man  of  the  world,  hackneyed 
in  it's  ways,  and  penetrating  into  the 
motives  by  which  it  is  ordinarily  influ- 
enced,  it  seemed  the  result  of  innocence 
without  suspicion ;  yet  of  an  innocence 
to  which  her  air  and  manner  gave  a 
dignity  that  destroyed,  in  its  birth,  all 
interpretation  to  her  disadvantage.  His 
purse,  therefore,  which  already  he  held 


(     64     ) 

in  his  handj  he  felt  must  be  offered  with 
more  delicacy  than  he  had  at  first  sup- 
posed to  be  necessary;  and,  though  he 
was  by  no  means  a  man  apt  to  be  embar- 
rassed,  he  hesitated,  for  a  moment,  how 
to  address  a  forlorn  young  stranger. 

That  moment,  however,  sufficed  to 
determine  him  upon  making  an  apology, 
with  the  most  marked  respect,  for  the 
liberty  wdiich  he  had  taken  in  claiming 
her  attention.  The  look  with  which 
she  listened  rewarded  his  judgment :  it 
expressed  the  gratitude  of  feelings  to 
which  politeness  was  a  pleasure  5  but 
not  a  novelty. 

"  I  think— I  understand.  Ma'am," 
he  then  said,  "  you  are  the  lady  who 
inhabited  the  apartment  to  which,  most 
unworthily,  I  have  succeeded  ?" 

Juliet  bowed. 

"  I  am  truly  concerned.  Ma'am,  at  a 
mistake  so  preposterous  in  our  destinies, 
so  diametrically  in  opposition  to  our 
merits,  as  that  which  immures  so  much 
beauty  and  grace,  which  every  one  must 


(    65    ) 

Wish  to  behold,  in  the  attics ;  while  so 
worn-out,  and  good-for-nothing  an  old 
fellow  as  I  am,  from  whom  every  body 
must  wish  to  turn  their  eyes,  is  perched, 
full  in  front,  and  precisely  on  the  very 
spot  so  every  way  your  superiour  due. 
Whatever  wicked  Elf  has  done  this  deed, 
I  confess  myself  heartily  ashamed  of  my 
share  in  its  operation  5  and  humbly 
ready,  should  any  better  genius  come 
amongst  us,  with  a  view  to  putting  things 
into  their  proper  places,  to  agree,  either 
that  you  should  be  lodged,  in  the  face  of 
day,  in  the  drawing-room,  and  I  be 
jammed,  out  of  sight,  in  the  garret ; 
or  —  that  you  should  become  gouty  and 
decrepit,  and  I  grow  suddenly  young 
and  beautiful." 

Juliet  could  not  but  smile,  yet  waited 
some  explanation  without  speaking. 

Charmed  with  the  smile,  which  his 
own  rigid  features  imqnediately  caught, 
"  I  have  so  frequently,"  he  continued, 
*'  pondered  and  ruminated  upon  the 
good  which  those  little  aerial  beings    I 


(     66    ) 

speak  of  might  do ;  and  the  wrongs 
which  they  might  redress  ;  were  they 
permitted  to  visit  us,  now  and  then,  as 
we  read  of  their  doing  in  days  of  yore  ; 
that,  sometimes,  I  dream  while  wide 
awake,  and  fancy  I  see  them  ;  and  feel 
myself  at  the  mercy  of  their  antic  cor- 
rections ;  or  receive  courteous  presents, 
or  wholesome  advice.  Just  this  mo- 
ment, as  you  were  passing,  methought 
one  of  them  appeared  to  me  !*' 

Juliet,  surprised,  involuntarily  looked 
round. 

"  And  it  said  to  me,  *  Whence  happens 
it,  my  worthy  antique,  that  you  grow 
as  covetous  as  you  are  rich  ?  Bear,  for 
your  pains,  the  punishment  due  to  a 
miser,  of  receiving  money  that  you  must 
not  hoard  ;  and  of  presenting,  with  your 
own  avaricious  hand,  this  purse  to  the 
fair  young  creature  whose  dwelling  you 
have  usurped ;  yet  who  resides  nearest 
to  those  she  most  resembles,  the  gods 
and  goddesses.' " 
■  f  rWith  these  words,  and  a  low  bow,  he 


(     67    ) 

would  have  put  his  purse  into  her  liand; 
but  upon  her  starting  back,  it  dropt  at 
her  feet. 

Surprized,  yet  touched,  as  well  as 
amused,  by  a  turn  so  unexpected  to  his 
pleasantry,  Juliet,  gracefully  restoring, 
though  firmly  declining  his  offer,  ut- 
tered her  thanks  for  the  kindness  of  his 
intentions,  with  a  sweetness  so  unsuspi- 
cious of  evil,  that  they  separated  with 
as  strong  an  impression  of  wonder  upon 
his  part,  as,  upon  her's,  of  gratitude. 

Anxious  to  relieve  the  perplexity  thus 
excited,  and  to  settle  his  opinion,  he 
continued  to  watch,  but  could  not  again 
address  her ;  for  aware,  now,  of  his 
purpose,  she  fled  down,  or  darted  up 
stairs,  with  a  swiftness  that  defied  pur- 
suit; yet  with  a  passing  courtesy,  that 
marked  respectful  remembrance. 

Thus,  in  a  life  of  solitary  hardship, 
with  no  intermission  but  for  mortify- 
ing disappointment,  passed  nearly  three 
weeks,  when  Juliet  found,  with  affright 
and  astonishment,   that  all   orders    for 


(    68     ) 

work  seemed  at  an  end.  It  was  no 
longer  the  season  for  Brighthelmstonej 
whose  visitors  were  only  accidental 
stragglers,  that,  here  to-day,  and  gone 
to-morrow,  had  neither  care  nor  leisure 
but  for  rambling  and  amusement.  The 
residents,  though  by  no  means  incon- 
siderable, were  soon  served  ;  for  Elinor 
was  removed  to  Lewes,  and  her  influ- 
ence was  lost  with  her  presence.  Some 
new  measure,  therefore,  for  procuring 
employment,  became  necessary  j  and 
Juliet,  once  more,  was  reduced  to  make 
application  to  Miss  Matson. 

In  passing,  therefore,  one  morning, 
through  the  shop,  with  some  work  pre- 
pared for  carrying  home,  she  stopt  to 
open  upon  the  subject ;  but  the  appear- 
ance of  Miss  Bydel  at  the  door,  induced 
her,  with  an  hasty  apology,  to  make  an 
abrupt  retreat ;  that  she  might  avoid  an 
encounter  which,  with  that  lady,  was 
always  irksome,  if  not  painful,  from  her 
unconstrained  curiosity  ;  joined  to  the 
grossness  of  her  conceptions  and  remarks. 


(     ^9     ) 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

TULIET5  in  remounting  the  stairs,  was 

stopt,  by  her  new  acquaintance,  before 
the  door  of  his  apartment. 

"  If  you  knew,"  he  said,  "  how  des- 
pitefuliy  I  have  been  treated,  and  how 
miserably  black  and  blue  I  have  been 
pinched,  by  the  little  Imp  whose  offer 
you  have  rejected,  sleep  would  fly  your 
eyes  at  night,  from  remorse  for  your 
hardness  of  heart.  Its  Impship  insists 
upon  it,  that  the  fault  must  all  be  mine. 
What !  it  cries,  would  you  persuade 
me,  that  a  young  creature  whose  face 
beams  with  celestial  sweetness,  whose 
voice  is  the  voice  of  melody,  whose  eyes 
have  the  softness  of  the  Dove's " 

Juliet,  though  she  smiled,  would  have 
escaped  ;  but  he  told  her  he  must  be 
heard. 

"  Would  you  persuade  me,  quoth  my 


(    7<»    ) 

sprite,  that  such  an  angelic  personage, 
would  rather  let  my  poor  despised  coin 
canker  and  rust  in  your  miserly  coffers, 
than  disperse  it  about  in  the  world,  in 
kind,  generous,  or  useful  activity  ?  No, 
my  antique,  continues  my  little  elf, 
you  have  presented  it  in  some  clumsy, 
hunchy,  awkward  mode,  that  has  made 
her  deem  you  an  unworthy  bearer  of 
fairy  gifts ;  and  she  flies  the  downy 
wings  of  my  gentle  succour,  from  the 
fear  of  falling  into  your  rough  and  un- 
cooth  claws." 

Juliet,  who  now,  through  the  ill- 
closed  fingers  of  his  gouty  hand,  dis- 
cerned his  prepared  purse,  seriously 
begged  to  decline  this  discussion. 

"  What  malice  you  must  bear  me !" 
he  cried.  "  You  are  surely  in  the  pay 
of  my  evil  genius  !  and  I  shall  be  whipt 
with  nettles,  or  scratched  with  thorns, 
all  night,  in  revenge  of  my  failure  !  And 
that  parcel,  too,  —  which  strains  the 
fine  fibres  of  your  fair  hands,  —  cast  it 
but  down,  and  millions  of  my  little  elves 


(    71     ) 

will  struggle  to  convey  it  safely  to  your 
chamber/' ^^|j   lovq    *:;  J--     - 

"  I  doubt  not  their  dexterity,'*  an- 
swered Juliet,  "  nor  the  benevolence  of 
their  fabricator  ;  but  I  assure  you.  Sir, 
I  want  no  help." 

,v**  If  you  will  not  accept  their  aerial 
services,   deign,  at  least,  not  to  refuse' 
mine  1" 

He  endeavoured,  now,  to  take  the 
gown-packet  into  his  own  hands  ;  laugh- 
ingly saying,  upon  her  grave  resistance,^ 
"  Beware,  fair  nymph,  of  the  dormant 
sensations  whicli  you  m.ay  awaken,  if 
you  should  make  me  suppose  you  afraid 
of  me!  Many  a  long  day  is  past,  alas! 
and  gone,  since  I  could  flatter  myself 
with  the  idea  of  exciting  fear  in  a  young 
breast!" 

Ceasing,  however,  the  attempt,  after 
some  courteous  apologies,  he  respect- 
fully let  her  pass. 

nBut,  upon  entering  her  room,  she 
heard  something  chink  as  she  deposited 
her  parcel  upon  a  table  ;  and,  upon  ex- 


i  1^  ) 

amination,  found  that  he  had  managed 
to  slip  into  it,  dimng  the  contest^  a  little 
green  purse.       '  ui '/;!/ 

^^  Vexed  at  this  contrivance^  and  re- 
solved not  to  lose  an  instant  in  returning 
what  no  distress  could  induce  her  to 
retain,  she  immediately  descended  j  but 
the  stair-case  was  vacant,  and  the  door 
was  closed.  Fearful  any  delay  might 
authorize  a  presumption  of  acceptance, 
^he  assumed  courage  to  tap  at  the  door. 

A  scampering,  at  the  same  moment, 
up  the  stairs,  made  her  instantly  regret 
this  measure  ;  and  by  no  means  the  less, 
for  finding  herself  recognized,  and  ab- 
ruptly accosted  by  young  Gooch,  the 
farmer's  son,  at  the  very  moment  that 
her  gouty  admirer  had  hobbled  to  answer 
to  her  summons. 

"  Well,  see  if  I  a'n't  a  good  marks- 
man 1"  he  cried;  "  for  else,  Ma'am,  I 
might  have  passed  you ;  for  they  told 
me,  below,  you  were  up  there,  at  the 
very  top  of  the  house.  But  VA  war- 
rant  to  pick  you  out  from  a  hundred. 


<   n  ) 

Ma'am  ;  as  neat  as  my  father  would  one 
of  his  stray  sheep.  But  what  I  come 
for,  Ma'am,  is  to  ask  the  favour  of  your 
company,  if  it's  agreeable  to  you,  to  a 
little  junket  at  our  farm." 

Then,  rubbing  his  hands  with  great 
glee,  uuregarding  the  surprised  look  of 
Juliet,  at  such  an  invitation,  or  the 
amused  watchfuhiess  of  the  observant 
old  beau,  he  went  glibly  on. 

"  Father's  to  give  it.  Ma'am.  You 
never  saw  old  dad,  I  believe.  Ma'am  ? 
The  old  gentleman's  a  very  good  old 
chap ;  only  he  don't  like  oar  clubs : 
for  he  says  they  make  me  speak  quite 
in  the  new  manner;  so  that  the  farmers, 
he  says,  don't  know  Vv^hat  I'd  be  at. 
He's  rather  in  years.  Ma'am,  poor  man. 
He  don't  know  much  how  things  go. 
lIov;ever,  he^s  a  very  vveil  meaning  old 
gentleman." 

Juliet  gravely  enquired,  to  what  un* 
known  accident  she  might  attribute  an 
invitation  so  unexpected  ? 

"  Why,  Ma'am,"   answered    Gooch, 

VOL.  JII.  i> 


(     74     ) 

delighted  at  the  idea  of  having  given  her 
an  agreeable  surprize,  "  Why  it's  the 
^Squire,  Ma'am,  that  put  it  into  my 
head.  You  know  who  I  mean  ?  our 
rich  cousin,  'Squire  Tedman.  He's  a 
great  friend  of  yours,  I  can  assure  you. 
Ma'am.  He  wants  you  to  take  a  httle 
pleasure  sadly.  And  he's  sadly  afraid, 
too,  he  says,  that  you'll  miss  him,  now 
he's  gone  to  town  ;  for  he  used  often,  he 
says,  to  luring  you  one  odd  thing  or 
another.  He's  got  a  iine  fortune  of  his 
own,  my  cousin  the  'Squire.  And  he's 
a  widower.  —  And  he's  taken  a  vast 
liking  to  you,  I  can  tell  you.  Ma'am  ;  — 

so  who  knows " 

Juliet  would  have  been  perfectly  un- 
moved by  this  ignorant  forv/ardness,  but 
for  the  presence  of  a  stranger,  to  Vvhose 
good  opinion,  after  her  experience  of  liis 
benevolence,  she  could  not  be  indifferent. 
"With  an  air,  therefore,  that  marked  her 
little  satisfaction  at  this  familiar  jo- 
coseness,  she  declined  the  invitation ; 
and  begged  the  young  man  to  acquaint 


(    7S    ) 

.Mr.  Tedman,  that,  though  obliged  t© 
his  intentions,  she  should  feel  a  yet  higher 
obligation  in  his  forbearance  to  forward 
to  her,  in  future,  any  similar  pro- 
posals. 

"  AVhy,  Ma'am,"  cried  young  Goochj 
astonished,  "  this  i'n't  a  thing  you  can 
get  at  every  day  !  We  shall  have  all  the 
main  farmers  of  the  neighbourhood  !  for 
it's  given  on  account  of  a  bargain  that 
we've  made,  of  a  nice  little  slip  of  land, 
just  by  our  square  hay-field.  And  I've 
leave  to  choose  six  of  the  company  my- 
self. But  they  won't  be  farmers.  Ma'am, 
I  can  tell  you  1  They'll  be  young  fel- 
lows that  know  better  how  the  world 
goes.  And  we  shall  have  your  good 
friend  'Squire  Stubbs  ;  for  it's  he  that 
made  our  bargain." 

Juliet,  now,  turning  from  him  to  the 
silent,  remarking  stranger,  said,  "  I  am 
extremely  ashamed,  Sir,  to  obtrude  thus 
upon  your  time,  but  the  person  for 
whom  you  so  generously  destined  this 
donation  commissions  me   to  return  it, 

£    2 


(    76    ) 

\vitli  many  thanks,  and  an  assurance  that 
it  is  not  at  all  wanted." 

She  held  out  her  hand  with  the  purse, 
but,  drawing  back  from  receiving  it, 
*'  Madam,"  he  cried,  "  I  would  upon 
no  account  offend  any  one  who  has  the 
honour  of  being  known  to  you  ;  but  you 
will  not,  therefore,  I  hope,  insist  that  I 
should  quarrel  with  myself,  by  taking 
what  does  not  belong  to  me  ?*' 

While  Juliet,  now,  looked  wistfully 
around,  to  discover  some  place  where  she 
might  drop  the  purse,  unseen  by  the 
young  man,  whose  misinterpretations 
might  be  injurious,  the  youth,  vol|ably 
continued  his  own  discourse.  ,;     rr:^    ,.rt. 

"  We  shall  give  a  pretty  good  enter- 
tainment in  the  way  of  supper,  I  assure 
you,  Ma'am ;  for  we  shall  have  a  goose 
at  top,  and  a  turkey  at  bottom,  and  as 
fine  a  fat  pig  as  ever  you  saw  in  your 
life  in  the  middle  ;  \yith  a&  much  ale,  and 
mead,  and  punch,, as  you  can  desire  t^ 
drink.  And,  as  all  rpy,  sisters ;  are.  at 
home,  and  a  brace  or  so  ^fijice  young 
•  4 


(   n  ) 

lasses  of  their  acquaintance,  besides 
ever  so  many  farmers,  and  us  seven  stout 
young  fellows  of  my  club,  into  the  bar- 
gain, we  intend  to  kick  up  a  dance.  It 
may  keep  you  out  a  little  late,  to  be 
sure,  Ma'am,  but  you  shall  have  our 
chay-cart  to  bring  you  home.  You 
know  our  chay-cart  of  old.  Ma'am  ?" 

"I,  Sir?" 

"  Why,  lauk !  have  you  forgot  that, 
"Ma'am  ?  "Why  it's  our  chay-cart  that 
brought  you  to  Brighton,  from  Madam 
Maple's  at  Lewes,  as  good  as  half  a 
year  ago.  Don't  you  remember  little 
Jack,  that  drove  you  ?  and  that  went 
for  you  again  the  next  day,  to  fetch 
you  back  ?" 

Juliet  now  found,  that  this  was  the  car- 
riage procured  for  her  by  Harleigh,  upon 
her  first  arrival  atLewes;  and, though  cha- 
grined at  the  air  of  former,  or  disguised 
intimacy,  which  such  an  incident  might 
feeem  to  convey  to  her  new  friend,  she 
immediately  acknowledged  recollecting 
the  circumstance. 

E  3 


(    78     ) 

"  Well,  I'm  only  sorry.  Ma'am,  I  did 
not  drive  you  myself;  but  I  had  not  the 
pleasure  of  your  acquaintance  then. 
Ma'am  ;  for  'twas  before  of  our  acting 
together." 

The  surprise  of  the  listening  old  gen- 
tlertian  now  altered  its  expression,  from 
earnest  curiosity  to  suppressed  plea- 
santry ;  and  he  leant  against  his  door, 
to  take  a  pinch  of  snuff,  with  an  air  that 
denoted  him  to  be  rather  waiting  for 
some  expected  amusement,  than  watch- 
ing, as  heretofore,  for  some  interesting 
explanation. 

Juliet,  in  discerning  the  passing  change 
in  his  ideas,  became  more  than  ever  eager 
to  return  the  purse ;  yet  more  than  ever 
fearful  of  misconstruction  from  young 
Gooch  ;  whom  she  now,  with  encreased 
dissatisfaction,  begged  to  lose  no  time  in 
acquainting  Mr.  Tedman,  that  business 
only  ever  took  her  from  home. 

"  Why,  that's  but  moping  for  you, 
neither.  Ma'am,"  he  answered,  in  a  tone 
of  pity.   "  You'd  have  double  the  spirits 


(    79     ) 

if  you'd  go  a  little  abroad  >  for  staying 
within  doors  gives  one  but  a  hippish  turn. 
It  will  go  nigh  to  make  you  grow  quite 
melanchohck,  jMa'am." 

Hopeless  to  get  rid  either  of  him  or 
of  the  purse,  Juliet,  now,  was  moving 
up  stairs,  when  the  voice  of  Miss  Bydel 
called  out  from  the  passage,  "  Why, 
Mr.  Gooch,  have  you  forgot  I  told  you 
to  send  Mrs.  Ellis  to  me  ?" 

''  That  I  had  clean  !*'  he  answered. 
"  I  ask  your  pardon,  I'm  sure,  Ma'am. — 
Why,  Ma'am,  Miss  Bydel  told  me  to 
tell  you,  when  I  said  I  was  coming  up 
to  ask  you  to  our  junket,  that  she  wanted 
to  say  a  word  or  two  to  you,  down  in  the 
shop,  upon  business." 

Juliet  would  have  descended;  but  Miss 
Bydel,  desiring  her  to  wait,  mounted 
herself,  saying,  "  I  have  a  mind  to  see 
your  little  new  room  :"  stopping,  how- 
ever, when  she  came  to  the  landing- 
place,  which  was  square  and  large, 
"  Well-a-dtiy  !"  she  exclaimed  :"  Sir  Jas- 
par  Herringtgn!  —  who'd  have  thought 
E  4 


(  «*>  D 


©Fseeitigyau,  Standing  so  quietly*^ 
lyoar  door?  Why  I  did  not  linow  you 
could  stand  at  all!  Why  how  is  your 
gout,  my  good  Sir?  And  how  do  you 
like  your  new  lodgings  ?  I  heard  of 
your  being  ^  here  from  Miss  Matson. 
But  pray,  Mrs.  Ellis,  what  has  kept  you 
both,  you  and  young  Mr.  Gooch,  in 
such  close  conference  with  Sir  Jaspar? 
I  can't  think  what  you've  been  talking-^ 
.of  so  long.  Pray  how  did  you  come  to 
be  so  intimate  together  ?  I  should  like 
to  know  that." 

Sir  Jaspar  courteously  invited  Miss 
Bydel  to  enter  his  apartment ;  but  that 
lady,  not  aware  that  nothing  is  less  deli- 
cate than  professions  of  delicacy  ;  which 
degrade  a  just  perception,  and  strict 
practice  of  pmpriety,  into  a  display  of 
conscious  caution,  or  a  suspicion  of  evil 
interpretation  ;  almost  angrily  answered, 
that  she  could  not  for  the  world  do  such 
a  thing,  for  it  w^ould  set  every  body  a 
talking :  "  for,  as  I'm  not  married.  Sir 
Jaspar,  you  know,  and  as  you're  a  single 


'     (    8>i     ) 

gentleman,  to^^r  it  might  make  Miss 
Matson  gandrherLyoung  ladies  think  I 
don't  know  what.  For,  when  once 
people's  tongues  are  set  a-going,  it's 
soon  too  late  to  stop  them.  Besides, 
ei^f^i^t  body's  always  so  prodigious  cu- 
rious to  dive  into  other  people's  affairs, 
that  one  can't  vv^ell  be  too  prudent."    .  , 

Sir  Jaspar,  with  an  arched  brow,  of 
which  she  was  far  from  comprehending 
the  meaning,  said  that  he  acquiesced  in 
her  better  judgment ;  but,  as  she  had 
announced  that  she  came  to  speak  with 
this  young  lady  upon  business,  he  en- 
quired, whether  tliere  would  be  any  in- 
congruity in  putting  a  couple  of  chairs 
upon  the  landing-place. 

"  Well,"  she  cried,  "  that*s  a  bright 
thought,  I  declare,  Sir  Jaspar !  for  it  will 
save  me  the  trouble  of  groping  up 
stairs  ;"  and  then,  seizing  the  opportu- 
nity to  peep  into  his  room,  slie  broke 
forth  into  warm  exclamations  of  pleasure, 
at  the  many  nice  and  new  tilings  with 
which  it  had  been  furnished,  since  it  had 
been  vacated  by  Mrs.  Ellis. 


(     82     ) 

A  look,  highly  conuniserating,  shewed 
him  shocked  by  these  observ^ations ;  and 
the  air,  patiently  calm,  with  which  they 
were  heard  by  Juliet,  augmented  his 
interest,  as  well  as  wonder,  in  her  story 
and  situation. 

He  ordered  his  valet  to  fetch  an  arm- 
chair for  Miss  Bydel ;  while,  evidently 
meant  for  JuHet,  he  began  to  drag 
another   forward  himself. 

"  Bless  me.  Sir  Jaspar  !*'  cried  Miss 
Bydel,  looking,  a  little  affronted,  towards 
Juliet,  "  have  you  no  common  chairs  ?'* 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  still  labouring 
on,  "  for  common  purposes  1" 

"  This  civility  was  not  lost  upon 
Juliet,  who  declining,  though  thankful 
for  his  attention^  darted  forward,  to  take, 
for  herself,  a  seat  of  less  dignity;  hastily, 
as  she  passed,  dropping  the  purse  upon 
a  table. 

A  glance  at  Sir  Jaspar  sufficed  to 
assure  her,  that  this  action  had  not 
escaped  his  notice  ;  and  though  his  look 
spoke    disappointment,    it    shewed   him 


(     83     ) 

sensible  of  the  propriety  of  avoiding  any 
contest. 

Relieved,  from  this  burthen,  she  now 
cheerfully  waited  to  hear  the  orders  of 
Miss  Bydel:  young  Gooch  waited  to  hear 
them  also;  seated,  cross-legged,  upon  the 
balustrade  ;  though  Sir  Jaspar  sent  his 
valet  away,  and  retired,  scrupulously, 
himself,  to  the  farther  end  of  his  apart- 
ment. 

Miss  Bydel,  as  little  struck  with  the 
ill  breeding  of  the  young  farmer,  as  with 
the  good  manners  of  the  baronet,  for- 
got her  business,  from  recollecting  that 
Mr.  Scope  was  waiting  for  her  in  the 
shop.  "  For  happening,"  said  she,  "  to 
pass  by,  and  see  me,  through  the  glass- 
door,  he  just  stept  in,  on  purpose  to 
have  a  little  chat." 

"  O  ho,  what,  is  'Squire  Scope 
here  ?"  cried  young  Gooch  ;  and,  ra- 
pidly sliding  down  the  banisters,  seized 
upon  the  unwilhng  and  precise  Mr. 
Scope,  whom  he  dragged  up  to  the 
landing-place. 

E  6 


(     8-4    ) 

^-^r(ff:  Well,  this  is  droll  enough '."cried 
Miss  Bydel,  palpably  enchanted,  though 
trying  to  look  displeased ;  "  only  I  hope 
you  have  not  told  Mr.  Scope  'twas  I  that 
sent  you  for  him,  Mr.  Gooch  ?  for,  I 
assure  you,  Mr.  Scope,  I  would  not  do 
such  a  thing  for  the  world.  I  should 
think  it  quite  improper.  Besides,  what 
will  Miss  Matson  and  the  young  milli- 
ners say  ?  Who  knows  but  you  may  have 
set  them  a  prating,  Mr.  Gooch  ?  It's  no 
joke,  I  can  assure  you,  doing  things  of 
this  sort."  J' 

"  I'm  sure,  Ma'am,"  said  Gooch,  "  I 
thought  you  wanted  to  see  the  'Squire  j 
for  I  did  not  do  it  in  the  least  to  make 
game."  V 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt,  Madam," 
said  Mr.  Scope,  somewhat  offended, 
*'  that  all  descriptions  of  sport  are  not, 
at  all  times,  advisable.  For,  in  small 
societies,  as  in  great  states,  if  I  may  be 
permitted  to  compare  little  things  with 
great  ones,  danger  often  lurks  unseen, 
and  njischief  breaks  out  from  trifles.     In 


C    85-  ) 

like  manner,  for  example,  if  one  of  those 
young  milliners,  misinterpreting  iny  in- 
nocence, in  obeying  the  supposed  com- 
mands of  the  good  Miss  Bydel,  should 
take  the  liberty  to  laugh  at  my  expence, 
what,  you  might  ask,  could  it  signify  that 
a  young  girl  should  laugh  ?  Young 
persons,  especially  of  the  female  gender, 
being  naturally  given  to  laughter,  at  very 
small  provocatives  ;  not  to  say  sometimes 
-without  any  whatsoever.  Whereupon, 
persons  of  an  ordinary  judgment,  may 
conclude  such  an  action,  by  which  I 
mean  laughing,  to  be  of  no  conse- 
quence.— " 

"  But  I  think  it  very  rude!*'  cried 
Miss  Bydel,  extremely  nettled. 

"  Please  to  hear  me.  Madam!"  said 
Mr.  Scope.  "  Persons,  I  say,  of  deeper 
knowledge  in  the  maxims  and  manners 
of  the  moral  world,  would  look  forward 
with  watchfulness,  on  such  an  occasion, 
to  its  future  effects ;  for  one  laugh 
breeds  another,  and  another  breeds 
another  5  for  nothing  is  so  catching  as 


(     86     ) 

laughing;  I  mean  among  the.vulgar;  in 
wbicli  class  I  would  be  understood  to  in- 
clude the  main  mass  of  a  great  nation. 
What,  I  ask,  ensues?  — " 

"  O,  as  to  that,  Mr.  Scope,V  cried 
Miss  Bydel,  rather  impatiently,  "  I 
assure  you  if  I  knew  any  body  that  took 
such  a  liberty  as  to  laugh  at  me,  I  should 
let  them  know  my  thoughts  of  such  airs 
without  much  ceremony  !" 

"  My  very  good  lady,"  said  Mr.  Scope, 
formally  bowing,  "  if  I  may  request 
such  a  favour,  I  beg  you  to  be  silent. 
The  laugh,  I  observe,  caught  thus, 
from  one  to  another,  soon  spreads 
abroad ;  and  then,  the  more  aged,  or 
better  informed,  may  be  led  to  enquire 
into  its  origin :  and  the  result  of  such 
investigation  must  needs  be,  that  the 
worthy  Miss  Bydel,  having  sent  her 
commands  to  her  humble  servant,  Mr. 
Scope,  to  follow  her  up  stairs  —  *' 

"  But  if  they  said  that,"  cried  Miss 
Bydel,  looking  very  red,  "  it  would  be 
as  great  a  fib  as  ever  was  told,  for  I  did 


(     87     ) 

not  send  my  commands,  nor  think  of 
such  a  thing.  It  was  Mr.  Gooch's  own 
doing,  only  for  his  own  nonsense. 
And  I  am  curious  to  know,  Mr.  Gooch, 
whether  any  body  ever  put  such  thoughts 
into  your  head  ?  Pray  did  you  ever  hear 
any  body  talk,  Mr.  Gooch  ?  For,  if  you 
have,  I  should  be  glad  to  know  what 
they  said." 

Mr.  Scope,  waving  his  hand  to  demand 
attention,  again  begged  leave  to  remark, 
that  he  had  not  finished  what  he  purposed 
to  advance. 

"  My  argument.  Madam,"  he  re- 
sumed, "  is  a  short,  but,  I  hope,  a  clear 
one,  for  'tis  deduced  from  general  prin- 
ciples and  analogy;  though,  upon  a 
merely  cursory  view,  it  may  appear  some- 
what abstruse.  But  what  I  mean,  in 
two  words,  is,  that  the  laugh  raised  by 
Mr.  Gooch,  and  those  young  milliners ; 
taking  it  for  granted  that  they  laughed  ; 
which,  indeed,  I  rather  think  I  heard 
them  do ;  may,  in  itself,  perhaps,  as  only 
announcing    incapacity,    not    be    con- 


(    83    > 

demnable ;  but  when  it  turns  out  that  it 
promulgates  false  reports,  and  makes  twa 
worthy  persons,  if  I  may  take  the  liberty 
to  name  myself  with  the  excellent  Miss 
Bydel,  appear  to  be  fit  subjects  for 
ridicule ;  then,  indeed,  the  laugh  is  no 
longer  innocent ;  and  ought,  in  strict 
justice,  to  be  punished,  as  seriously  as 
any  other  mode  of  propagating  false 
rumours." 

Miss  By  del,  after  protesting  that 
Mr.  Scope  talked  so  prodigiously  sen- 
sible, that  she  was  never  tired  of  hearing 
him,  for  all  his  speeches  were  so  long ; 
abruptly  told  Juliet,  that  she  had  called 
to  let  her  know,  that  she  should  be  glad 
to  be  paid,  out  of  hand^  the  money 
which  she  had  advanced  for  the  harp. 

Sir  Jaspar,  who,  during  the  harangue 
of  Mr.  Scope,  which  was  uttered  in  too 
loud  and  important  a  manner,  to  leave 
any  doubt  of  it's  being  intended  for 
general  hearing  ;  had  drawn  his  chair  to 
join  the  party,  listened  to  this  demand 
with  peculiar  attention  5  and  was  struck 


<     8?    ) 

with  the  evident  distress  which  it  caused 
fO"  Juliet ;  who  fearfully  besought  a  little 
longer  law,  to  collect  the  debts  of  others, 
that  she  might  be  able  to  discharge  her 
own. 

Young  Gooch,  coming  behind  her, 
said,  in  a  half  w^hisper,  "  If  you'll  tell 
me  how  much  it  is  you  owe,  Ma'am,  Til 
help  you  out  in  a  trice  ;  for  I  can  have 
what  credit  I  will  in  mv  father's  name  ; 
and  he'll  never  know  but  what  'twas  for 
some  frolic  of  my  own  ;  for  I  don't 
make  much  of  a  confidant  of  the  old 
gentleman." 

The  most  icy  refusal  was  insufficient 
to  get  rid  of  this  offer,  or  offerer  ;  who 
assured  her  that,  if  the  worst  came  to 
the  worst,  and  his  father,  by  ill  luck, 
should  find  them  out,  he  would  not 
make  a  fuss  for  above  a  day  or  tw^o  ; 
"  because,"  he  continued,  "he  has  only 
me,  as  one  may  say,  for  the  rest  are 
nothing  but  girls  ;  so  he  can't  w^ell  help 
himself.  He  gave  me  my  swing  too 
long  from  the  first,  to  bind  me  down  at 


(     90    ) 

this  time  of  day.  Besides,  he  likes  to 
have  me  a  little  in  the  fashion,  I  know, 
though  he  won't  own  itj  for  he  is  a 
very  good  sort  of  an  old  gentleman,  at 
bottom." 

Sir  Jaspar  sought  to  discover,  whether 
the  colour  which  heightened  the  cheeks 
of  Juliet  at  this  proposal,  which  now 
ceased  to  be  delivered  in  a  whisper,  was 
owing  to  confusion  at  its  publicity,  or 
to  disdain  at  the  idea  of  conspiring  either 
at  deceiving  or  braving  the  young  man's 
father ;  while  Miss  Bydel,  whose  plump 
curiosity  saved  her  from  all  species  of 
speculative  trouble,  bluntly  said,  "  Why 
should  you  hesitate  at  such  an  offer,  my 
dear  ?  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  how  you  can 
do  better  than  accept  it.  Mr.  Gooch  is 
a  very  worthy  young  man,  and  so  are  all 
his  family.  I'm  sure  I  only  wish  he'd 
take  to  you  more  solidly,  and  make  a 
match  of  it.  That  would  put  an  end 
to  your  troubles  at  once  ;  and  I  should 
get  my  money  out  of  hand." 

This  was  an  opportunity  not  to   be 


(     91     ) 

passed  over  by  the  argumentative  but 
unerring  Mr.  Scope,  for  trite  observa- 
tions, self  evident  truths,  and  hackneyed 
calculations,  upon  the  mingled  dangers 
and  advantages  of  matrimony,  "  which, 
when  weighed,"  said  he,  "  in  equal 
scales,  and  abstractedly  considered,  are 
of  so  puzzling  a  nature,  that  the  wise 
and  wary,  fearing  to  risk  them,  remain 
single  ;  but  which,  when  looked  upon  in 
a  more  cursory  way,  or  only  lightly 
balanced,  preponderate  so  much  in  fa- 
vour of  the  state,  that  the  great  mass  of 
the  nation,  having  but  small  means  of 
reflection,  or  forethought,  ordinarily  pre- 
fer matrimony.  If,  therefore,  young 
Mr.  Gooch  should  think  proper  to 
espouse  this  young  person,  there  would 
be  nothing  in  it  very  surprising;  never- 
theless, in  summing  up  the  expences  of 
wedlock,  and  a  growing  family,  it  might 
seem,  that  to  begin  the  married  state 
with  debts  already  contracted,  on  the 
female  side,  would  appear  but  a  shallow 
mark  of  prudence  on  the  male,  where 


(     92     ) 

the  cares  of  that  state  reasonably  devolve ; 
he  being  natuvallj  supposed  to  have  the 
most  sense/' 

"  O,  as  to  that,  Mr.  Scope/'  cried 
MissBydel,  ''  if  Mr.  Gooch  siiould  take 
a  hking  to  this  young  person,  she  has 
money  enough  to  pay  her  debts,  I  can 
assure  you :  I  should  not  have  asked 
her  for  it  else;  but  the  thing  is,  she 
don't  like  to  part  with  it."" 

Juliet  solemnly  protested,  that  the  se- 
verest necessity  could  al-one  have  brought 
her  into  the  pecuniary  difficulties  under 
which  she  laboured;  the  money  to  which 
Miss  Bydel  alluded  being  merely  a  de- 
posit which  she  held  in  her  hands,  and 
for  which  she  was  accountable. 

"  Well,  that's  droll  enough,"  said 
Miss  Bydel,  "  that  a  young  person,  not 
worth  a  penny  in  the  world,  should  have 
the  care  of  other  people's  money !  I 
should  like  to  know  what  sort  of  persons 
they  must  be,  that  can  think  of  making 
such  a  person  their  steward !" 

Young  Gooch  said  that  it  would  not 


C    9S     ) 

be  his  father,  for  one,  wlio  would  do  it ; 
and  Mr.  Scope  was  preparing  an  elaborate 
dissertation  upon  the  nature  of  confi- 
dence, with  regard  to  money-matters,  in 
a  great  state  ;  when  Miss  Bydel,  charmed 
to  have  pronounced  a  sentence  which 
seemed  to  accord  with  every  one's  opi. 
nion,  ostentatiously  added,  "  J  should 
like,  I  say,  Mrs.  Ellis,  to  know  what  sort 
of  person  it  could  be,  that  would  trust  a 
person  with  one's  cash,  without  enquir- 
ing into  their  circumstances?  for  though, 
upon  hearing  that  a  person  has  got  no- 
thing, one  may  give  'em  something,  one 
must  be  no  better  than  a  fool  to  make 
them  one's  banker." 

Juhet,  who  could  not  enter  into  any 
explanation,  stammered,  coloured,  and 
from  the  horrour  of  seeing  that  she  was 
suspected,  wore  an  air  of  seeming  ap- 
preiiensive  of  detection. 

A  short  pause  ensued,  during  which, 
every  one  fixed  his  eyes  upon  her  face, 
save  Sir  Jaspar  j  who  seemed  studying  a 
portrait  upoa  his  snufl-box. 


(     94    ) 

Her  immediate  wish,  in  this  disturb- 
ance, was  to  clear  herself  from  so  terri- 
ble an  aspersion,  by  paying  Miss  By  del, 
as  she  had  paid  her  other  creditors,  from 
the  store  of  Harleigh ;  but  her  wishes, 
tamed   now   by   misfortune   and    disap- 
pointment, were  too  submissively  under 
the  controul  of  fear  and   discretion,  to 
suffer  her  to  act  from  their  first  dictates: 
and  a  moment's  refiection  pointed  out, 
that,  joined  to  the  impropriety  of  such  a 
measure  with  respect  to  Harleigh  him- 
self, it  would  be  liable,  more  than  any 
other,  to  give  her  the  air  of  an  impostor, 
Vvho  possessed    money    that    she  could 
either  employ,  or  disclaim  all  title  to,  at 
her  pleasure.      Calling,    therefore,    for 
composure    from     conscious    integrity, 
she  made  known  her  project  of  applying 
once  more   to   Miss  Matson,  for  work  ; 
and    earnestly   supplicated   for   the   in- 
fluence of  Miss  Bydel,  that  this  second 
application  might  not,  also,  be  vain. 

The  eyes  of  the  atttentive  Sir  Jaspar, 
as   he  raised  them   from  his  snuff-box, 
now  spoke  respect  mingled  with  pity, 
13 


(    95    ) 

'  "  As  to  recommending  you  to  Miss 
Matson,  Mrs.  Ellis,"  answered  Miss  By- 
del,  "  it's  out  of  all  reason  to  demand 
such  a  thing,  when  I  can't  tell  who  you 
are  myself;  and  only  knov*^  that  you  have 
got  money  in  your  hands  nobody  knows 
how,  nor  what  for." 

An  implication  such  as  this,  nearly 
overpowered  the  fortitude  of  Juliet;  and, 
relinquishing  all  further  effort,  she  rose 
and,  silently,  almost  gloomily,  began  as- 
cending the  stairs.  Sir  Jaspar  cauo^ht 
the  expression  of  her  despair  by  a 
glance  ;  and,  in  a  tone  of  remonstrance, 
said  to  Miss  Bydel,  ''  In  your  debt, 
good  Miss  Bydel  ?  Have  you  forgotten, 
then,  that  the  young  lady  has  paid  you?" 

"  Paid  me  ?  good  Me !  Sir  Jaspar," 
cried  Miss  Bj  del,  staring;  ''  how  can 
you  say  such  a  thing  ?  Do  you  think 
I'd  cheat  the  young  woman  r" 

"  I  think  it  so  little,"  ansv/ered  he 
calmly,  ''  that  I  venture  to  remind  you, 
thus  publicly,  of  the  circumstance  ;   in 
full  persuasion  that  I  sliall   merit  your 
gratitude,  by  aiding  your  memorv.'' 


(    96    ) 

««  Good  Me!  Sir  Jaspar,  why  I  nevei? 
heard  such  a  thing  in  my  Kfe  !  Paid  me  ? 
When  ?  Why  it  can't  be  without  my 
knowing  it  ?'' 

"  Certainly  not ;  I  beg  you,  therefore, 
to  recollect  youiself." 

The  stare  of  Miss  By  del  was  now 
caught  by  Mr.  Scope  ;  and  her  *'  Good 
Me !"  was  echoed  by  young  Gooch  j 
while  the  surprised  Juliet,  tiirning  back, 
sakl,  "  Pardon  me,  Sir  !  I  have  nevei' 
been  so  happy  as  to  be  able  to  discharge 
the  debt.     It  remains  in  full  force." 

"  Over  you,  too,  then,"  cried  Sir 
Jaspar,  with  quickness,  «'  have  I  the  ad- 
vantage  in  memory  ?  Have  you  for- 
gotten that  you  delivered,  to  Miss 
Bydel,  the  full  sum,  not  twenty  minutes 
since  r" 

Miss  Bydel  now.  reddening  with  anger, 
cried,  "  Sir  Jaspar,  I  have  long  enough 
heard  of  your  ill  nature;  but  I  never  sus- 
pected your  crossness  would  take  such  a 
turn  against  a  person  as  this,  to  make 
people  believe  I  demand  what  is  not  my 
own  !'* 


(97    ) 

"*■  Juliet  again  solemnly  acknowledged 
the  debt ;  and  Mr.  Scope  opened  an 
harangue  upon  the  merits  of  exactitude 
between  debtor  and  creditor,  and  the 
usefulness  of  settling  no  accounts,  with- 
out, what  were  the  only  legal  witnesses  to 
obviate  financial  controversy,  receipts 
in  full ;  when  Sir  Jaspar,  disregarding, 
alike,  his  rhetoric  or  Miss  Bydel's  choler^ 
quietly  patting  his  snuff-box,  said,  that  it 
was  possible  that  P*iiss  Bydel  had,  inad- 
vertently, put  the  sum  into  her  work-bag, 
and  forgotten  that  it  had  been  refunded. 
Exulting  that  means,  now,  were  open 
for  vindication  and  redress,  Miss  Bydel 
eagerly  untied  the  strings  of  her  work- 
bag  ;  though  Juliet  entreated  that  she 
\vould  spare  herself  the  useless  trouble. 
But  Sir  Jaspar  protested,  with  great  gra- 
vity, t])at  bis  ovvH  honour  was  now  as 
deeply  engaged  to  prove  an  affirmative, 
as  that  of  Miss  Bydel  to  prove  a  nega- 
tive :  holding,  however,  her  hand,  he 
said  that  he  could  not  be  satisfied,  unless 
the  complete  contents  of  the  work-bag 

VOL.  III.  ,    F 


C  -g8   ) 

%ere  openly  and  fairly  emptied  upon  a 
table,  in  sight  of  the  whole  party. 

Miss  Bydel,  though  extremely  af- 
fronted, consented  to  this  proposal ; 
which  would  clear  her,  she  said,  of  so 
false  a  slander.  A  table  was  then 
brought  upon  the  landing-place ;  as  she 
still  stiffly  refused  risking  her  reputation, 
by  entering  the  apartment  of  a  single 
gentleman  ;  though  he  might  not,  as  she 
observed,  be  one  of  the  youngest. 

Sir  Jaspar  demanded  the  precise 
amount  of  the  sum  owed.  A  guinea 
and  a  half. 

He  then  fetched  a  curious  little  japan 
basket  from  his  chamber,  into  which  he 
desired  that  Miss  Bydel  would  put  h«r 
work-bag  ;  though  he  would  not  suffer 
her  to  empty  it,  till,  with  various  form- 
alities, he  had  himself  placed  it  in  the 
middle  of  the  table  ;  around  which  he 
made  every  one  draw  a  chair. 

Miss  Bydel  now  triumphantly  turned 
her  work-bag  inside  out ;  but  what  was 
her   consternation,  what   the   shock   of 


(     99     ) 

Mr.  Scope,  and  how  loud  the  shout  of 
young  Gooch,  to  see,  from  a  small 
open  gJceq^.puT&e^ii^l  a.gi^Jne^and  a 

half t. 7 ;.;,':.  ^.^Z:.':^::^  z::' 

Miss  Bydel,  utterly  confounded,  re- 
mained speechless  ;  but  Juliet,  through 
whose  sadness  Sir  Jaspar  saw  a  smile 
force  its  way,  that  rendered  her  beauty 
dazzling,  recollecting  the  purse,  blushed, 
and  wotild  have  relieved  Miss  Bydel,  by 
confessing  that  she  knew  to  whom  it 
belonged  j  had  she  not  been  withheld  by 
the  fear  of  the  strange  appearance 
which  so  sudden  a  seeming  intimacy 
with  the  Baronet  might  wear. 

Sir  Jaspar,  again  patting  his  snuff, 
box,  composedly  said,  "  I  was  per- 
suaded Miss  Bydel  would  find  that  her 
debt  had  been  discharged." 

Miss  Bydel  remained  stupified  j  while 

.  Mr.  Scope,  with  a  look  concerned,  and 

even    abashed,    condolingly  began    an 

harangue  upon  the  frail  tenure  of  the 

iaculty  of  human  memory. 

^^  J^liss  Bydel,  at  length,  recovering  her 

F   2 


C      ^oo     ) 

speech,  exclaimed,  "  Well,  here's  the 
money,  that's  certain  !  but  which  way  it 
has  got  into  my  w'ork-bng,  without  my 
ever  seeing  or  touching  it,  I  can't  pre- 
tend to  say :  but  if  Mrs.  Ellis  has  done 
it  to  play  me  a  trick  —  " 

Juhet  disavowed  all  share  in  the  trans- 
action. 

"  Then  it's  some  joke  of  Sir  Jaspar's  ! 
for  I  know  he  dearly  loves  to  mortify ; 
so  I  suppQse  he  has  given  me  false  coin, 
or  something  that  won't  go,  just  to  make 
me  look  like  a  fool." 

**  The  money,  I  have  the  honour  to 
assure  you,  is  not  mine,"  was  all  that, 
very  tranquilly.  Sir  Jaspar  replied  :  while 
Mr.  Scope,  after  a  careful  examination 
of  each  piece,  declared  each  to  be  good 
gold,  and  full  weight. 

Sundry  "  Good  me's !"  and  other  ex- 
pressions of  surprise,  tliough  all  of  a 
pleasurable  sort,  now  broke  forth  from 
■Miss  Bydel,  finishing  with,  '*  However, 
if,  nobody  will  own  the  money,  as  the 
jdebt  is  fairly  my  due,   I  don't  see  why  I 


(  lol  ) 

may  not  take  it ;  though  as  to  the  purse, 
I  won't  touch  it,  because  as  that's  a 
thing  I  have  not  lent  to  any  body,  I've 
no  right  to  it." 

Juliet  here  warmly  interfered.  The 
purse,  she  said,  and  the  money  belonged 
to  the  same  proprietor ;  and,  as  neither  of 
them  were  her's,  both  ought  to  be  re- 
garded as  equally  inadmissible  for  the 
payment  of  a  debt  which  she  alone  had 
contracted.  This  disinterested  sincerity 
made  even  Mr.  Scope  turn  to  her  with 
an  air  of  profound,  though  surprised 
respect  ;  while  Sir  Jaspar  fixed  his  eyes 
upon  her  face  with  encreased  and  the 
most  lively  wonder  ;  young  Gooch 
stared,  not  perfectly  understanding  her ; 
but  Miss  Bydel,  rolling  up  the  purse, 
which  she  put  back  into  the  basket, 
said,  '<  Well,  if  the  money  is  not  yours, 
Mrs.  Ellis,  my  dear,  it  can  be  nobody's 
but  Sir  Jaspar's  ;  and  if  he  has  a  mind 
to  pay  your  debt  for  you,  I  don't  see 
why  I  should  hinder  him,  when  'twould 
be  so  much  to  my  disadvantage.  He's 
1'  3 


(  102  y 

rich  enough,  I  assure  yoii ;  for  what  has 
an  old  bachelor  to  do  with  his  money? 
So  ril  take  my  due,  be  it  which  way  it 
will."  And,  unmoved  by  all  that  Juliet 
could  urge,  she  put  the  guinea  and  the 
half-guinea  carefully  into  her  pocket. 

^Juliet  declared,  that  a  debt  which  she 
had  not  herself  discharged,  she  should 
always  consider  as  unpaid,  though  her 
creditor  might  be  changed. 

Confused  then,  ashamed,  perplexed, 
.—  yet  unavoidably  pleased,  she  mounted 
to  ber  chamber. 


(    JP3    ) 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

TIT'ITH  whatever  shame,  whatever 
chagrin,  Juliet  saw  herself  again 
involved  in  a  pecuniary  obligation,  with 
a  stranger,  and  a  gentleman,  a  support 
so  efficacious,  at  a  moment  of  such  alarm, 
was  sensibly  and  grateiully  felt.  Yet 
she  was  not  less  anxious  to  cancel  a 
favour  which  still  was  unfitting  to  be 
received.  Slie  watched,  therefore,  for 
the  departure  of  Miss  Bydel,  and  the 
restoration  of  stillness  to  the  stair-ca&e, 
to  descend,  once  more,  in  prosecution 
of  her  scheme  with  Miss  Matson. 

The  anxious  fear  of  rejection,  and 
dread  of  rudeness,  with  which  she  then 
renewed  her  solicitation,  soon  happily 
subsided,  from  a  readiness  to  listen,  and 
a  civility  of  manner,  as  welcome  as  they 
were  unexpected,  in  her  hostess;  by 
w^hom  she  was  engaged,  without  difH- 
F  4 


(     104     ) 

culty,  to  enter  upon  her  new  business 

the  following  morning. 

Thus,  and  with  cruel  regret,  con- 
cluded her  fruitless  effort  to  attain  a 
seif-dependence  which,  however  subject 
to  toil,  might  be  free,  at  least,  from 
controul.  Every  species  of  business, 
however  narrow  its  cast,  however  limited 
its  wants,  however  mean  its  materials ; 
required,  she  now  found,  some  capital 
to  answer  to  its  immediate  calls,  and 
some  steady  credit  for  encountering  the 
unforeseen  accidents,  and  unavoidable 
risks,  to  which  all  human  undertakings, 
whether  great  or  insignificant,  are  liable. 

With  this  conviction  upon  her  mind, 
she  strove  to  bear  the  disappointment 
without  murmuring ;  hoping  to  gain  in 
security  all  that  she  lost  in  liberty. 
Little  reason,  indeed,  had  she  for  regret- 
ting what  slie  gave  up :  she  had  been 
worn  by  solitary  toil,  and  heavy  rnmina- 
tion  ;  by  labour  without  interest,  and 
loneliness  without  leisure. 

Nevertheless,  the  beginning  of   her 


(     105     ) 

new  career  promised  little  amelioration, 
from  the  change.  She  was  summoned, 
early  to  the  shop  to  take  her  work  ;  but, 
when  she  be^^cred  leave  to  return  with  it 
to  her  chamber,  she  was  stared  at  as  if> 
she  had  made  a  demand  the  most  pre- 
posterous, and  told  that,  if  she  meant  to 
enter  into  business,  she  must  be  at  hand 
to  receive  directions,  and  to  learn  how 
it  should  be  done. 

To  enter  into  business  was  far  from 
the  intention  of  Juliet ;  but  the  fear  of 
dismission,  should  she  proclaimjhow  tran- 
sitory were  her  views,  silenced  her  into 
acquiescence ;  and  she  seated  herself 
behind  a  distant  counter. 

And  here,  perforce,  she  was  initiated 
into  a  new  scene  of  life,  that  of  the  hu- 
mours of  a  milliner's  shop.  She  found 
herself  in  a  v/hirl  of  hurry,  bustle,  loqua- 
city, and  interruptions.  Customers 
pressed  upon  customers ;  goods  were 
taken  down  merely  to  be  put  up  again ; 
cheapened  but  to  be  rejected  j  admired 
but  to  be  looked  at,  and  left  j  and  only 


(     166-    ) 

bought  when,  to  all  appearance,  thej 
were  undervalued  and  despised. 

It  was  here  that  she  saw,  in  its  un- 
masked  futility,  the  selfishness  of  per- 
sonal vanity.     The  good  of  a  nation,  the 
interest  of  society,  the  welfare  of  a  fa- 
mily, could  with  difficulty  have  appear- 
ed  of  higher  importance  than  the  choice 
of  a  ribbon,  or  the  set  of  a  cap ;  and 
scarcely    any    calamity    under    heaven 
could  excite  looks  of  deeper  horrour  or 
despair,  than  any  mistake  committed  in 
the  arrangement  of  a  feather  or  a  flower. 
Every  feature  underwent  a  change,  from 
chagrin    and    fretfulness,   if  any   orna- 
ment, made  by  order,  proved,  upon  trial, 
to    be   unbecoming ;    while   the    whole 
complexion    glowed  with  the  exquisite 
joy  of  triumph,  if  something  new,   de- 
vised  for  a  superiour  in  the    world   of 
fashion,  could  be  privately  seized  as  a 
model  by  an  inferiour.  ^^^iaJM 

'  'HThe  ladies  v^^hose  practice  it  was  to 
frequent  the  shop,  thought  the  time  and 
trouble  of  its  mistress,  and  her  assistants. 


(    I07    ; 

amply  paid  by  the  honour  of  their  pre- 
sence ;  and  though  they  tried  on  hats 
and  caps,  till  they  put  them  out  of 
shape  j  examined  and  tossed  about  the 
choicest  goods,  till  they  were  so  injured 
that  they  could  be  sold  only  at  half 
price  ;  ordered  sundry  articles,  which, 
when  finished,  they  returned,  because 
they  had  changed  their  minds ;  or  dis- 
covered that  they  did  not  want  them; 
still  their  consciences  were  at  ease,  their 
honour  was  self-acquitted,  and  their 
generosity  was  self-applauded,  if,  after 
two  or  three  hours  of  lounging,  rummag- 
ing, fault-finding  and  chaffering,  they 
purchased  a  yard  or  two  of  ribbon,  or  a 
few  skanes  of  netting  silk. 

The  most  callous  disregai'd  to  all  re- 
presentations of  the  dearness  of  materials, 
or  of  the  just  price  of  labour,  was 
accompanied  by  the  most  facile  ac- 
quiescence even  in  demands  that  were 
exorbitant,  if  they  were  adroitly  pre- 
ceded by,  "  Lady  *  *  *,  or  the  Duchess 
of  *  *  *,  gave  that  sum  for  just  such 
another  cap,  hat,  ^c,  this  very  morning.'* 
p  6 


(     io8     ) 

Here,   too,    as  in  many  other  situa- 
tions  into  which   accident  had  led,  or 
distress  had  driven  JuHet,  she  saw,  with 
commiseration     and     shame      for     her 
fellow-creatures,    the    total    absence   of 
feeling  and  of  equity,  in  the  dissipated 
and  idle,  for  the  indigent  and  laborious. 
The  goods  which  demanded  most  work, 
most  ingenuity,  and  most  hands,  were 
last  paid,  because  heaviest  of  expence ; 
though,  for  that  very  reason,  the  many 
employed,  and  the  charge  of  materials, 
made  their  payment  the  first  required.  Oh 
that  the  good  Mr.  Giles  Arbe,  thought 
Juliet,    could    arraign,    in    his    simple 
but    impressive    style,    the   ladies    wlio 
exhibit  themselves  with  unpaid  plumes, 
at  assembhes  and  operas;   and  enquire 
whether  they  can  flatter  themselves,  that 
to  adorn  them  alone  is  sufficient  to  re- 
compense those  who  work  for,  without 
seeing   them ;    who    ornament  without 
knowing  them  ;   and  who  must  necessa- 
rily, if  unrequited,  starve  in  rendering 
ihem  more  brilliant! 
II 


(     I09     ) 

Upon  further  observation,  neverthe- 
less, her  compassion  for  the  milliner  and 
the  work-women   somewhat  diminished  ; 
for    she    found    that    their  notions    of 
probity  were  as  lax   as  those  of   their 
customers  were  of  justice  ;  and  saw  that 
their  own  rudeness  to  those   who   had 
neither  rank  nor  fortune,  kept  pace  with 
the  haughtiness  which  they  were  forced 
to   support,  from   those   by  whom   both 
were  possessed.     Every  advantage  was 
taken   of  inexperience   and  simplicity; 
every  article  was  charged,  not  according 
to  its  value,  but  to  the  skill  or  ignorance 
of  the  purchaser  ;  old  goods  were  sold  as 
if  new  ;     cheap   goods  as  if  dear;    and 
ancient,  or  vulgar  ornaments,  were  pre- 
sented to  tliC  unpractised  chafferer,   as 
the  very  pink  of  the  mode. 

The  rich  and  grand,  who  were  capri- 
cious, difficult,  and  long  in  their  ex- 
aminations, because  their  time  was  their 
own  ;  or  rather,  because  it  hung  upon 
their  hands;  and  whose  utmost  exertion, 
and  sole  pr.iCtice  of  exercise  consisted 


(  "O  ) 

ill  strolling  from  a  sofa  to  a  carriage, 
were  instantly,  and  with  fulsome  adula- 
tion, attended;  while  the  meaner,  or 
economical,  whose  time  had  its  essential 
appropriations,  and  was  therefore  pre- 
cious, were  obliged  to  wait  patiently  for 
being  served,  till  no  coach  was  at  the 
door,  and  every  fine  lady  had  sauntered 
away.  And  even  then,  they  were 
scarcely  heard  when  they  spoke;  scarcely 
shewn  what  they  demanded;  and  scarcely 
thanked  for  what  they  purchased. 

In  viewing  conflicts  such  as  these, 
between  selfish  vanity  and  cringing 
cunning,  it  soon  became  difficult  to 
decide,  which  was  least  congenial  to 
the  upright  mind  and  pure  morality  of 
Juliet,  the  insolent,  vain,  unfeeling 
buyer,  or  the  subtle,  plausible,  over- 
i*eaching  seller. 

The  companions  of  Juliet  in  thivs 
business,  though  devoted,  of  course,  to 
its  manual  operations,  left  ail  its  cares 
to  its  mistress.  Their  own  wishes  and 
hopes   were  caught   by   other    objects* 


(     ni     ) 

The  town  was  filled  with  officers,  whose 
military  occupations  were  brief,  w'hose 
acquaintances  were  few,  and  who  could 
not,  all  day  long,  ride,  or  pursue  the 
sports  of  the  field.  These  gentlemen, 
for  their  idle  moments,  chose  to  deem 
all  the  unprotected  young  women 
whom  they  thought  worth  observance, 
their  natural  prey.  And  thougli,  from 
race  to  race,  and  from  time  immemorial, 
the  young  female  shop-keeper  had  been 
warned  of  the  danger,  the  folly,  and  the 
fate  of  her  predecessors ;  in  listening  to 
the  itinerant  admirer,  who,  here  to-day 
and  gone  to-morrow,  marches  his  adora- 
tions, from  town  to  town  with  as  much  fa- 
cility, and  as  little  regret,  as  his  regiment; 
still  every  new  votary  to  the  counter  and 
the  modes,  was  ready  to  go  over  the  same 
ground  that  had  been  trodden  before  ; 
with  the  fond  persuasion  of  proving  an  ex- 
ception to  those  who  had  ended  in  misery 
and  disgrace,  by  finishing,  herself,  with 
marriage  and  promotion.  Their  minds, 
therefore,    were   engaged   in   airy  pro- 


(  "2  ) 

jects ;  and  their  leisure,  where  they 
could  eUide  the  vigilance  of  Miss  Mat- 
son,  was  devoted  to  clandestine  co- 
quetry, tittering  whispers,  and  secret 
frohcs. 

"  These,"  said  JuHet,  in  a  letter  to 
Gabriella,  "  are  now  my  destined  asso- 
ciates!  Ah,  heaven!  can  these  —  can 
such  as  these, — setting  aside  pride,  pre- 
judice, propiiety,  or  whatever  word  we 
use  for  the  distinctions  of  society,  —  can 
these  —  can  such  as  these,  suffice  as 
companions  to  her  whose  grateful  heart 
has  been  honoured  with  the  friendship 
of  Gabriella?  O  hours  of  refined  feli- 
city past  and  gone,  how  severe  is  your 
contrast  with  those  of  heaviness  and 
distaste  now  endured  !" 

The  inexperience  of  Juliet  in  business, 
impeded  not  her  acquiring  almost  imme- 
diate excellence  in  the  millinery  art,  for 
which  she  was  equally  fitted  by  native 
taste,  and  by  her  remembrance  of  what 
she  had  seen  abroad.  The  first  time, 
therefore,  that  she  was    employed    to 


(     ^^3     ) 

arrange  some  ornaments,  she  adjusted 
them  with  an  elegance  so  striking,  that 
Miss  Matson,  witk  much  parade,  exhi- 
bited  them  to  her  best  lady-customers,  as 
a  specimen  of  the  very  last  new  fashion, 
just  brought  her  over  by  one  of  her 
young  ladies  from  Paris. 

In  a  town  that  subsists  by  the  search 
of  health  for  the  sick,  and  of  amusement 
for  the  idle,  the  smallest  new  circum- 
stance is  of  suiScient  weight  to  be  re- 
lated and  canvassed ;  for  there  is  ever 
most  to  say  where  there  is  least  to  do. 
The  phrase,  therefore,  that  went  forth 
from  Miss  Matson,  That  one  of  her 
young  ladies  was  just  come  from 
France,  was  soon  spread  through  the 
neighbourhood  ;  with  the  addition  that 
the  same  person  had  brought  over  spe- 
cimens of  all  the  French  costume. 

Such  a  report  could  not  fail  to  allure 
staring  customers  to  the  shop,  where  the 
attraction  of  the  youth  and  beauty  of  the 
new  work-woman,  contrasted  with  her 
determined  silence  to  all  enquiry,  gave 


C     114    ) 

birth  to  perpetually  varying  Gonjecture^ 
in  her  presence,  which  were  followed  by 
the  most  eccentric  assertions  where  she 
was  the  subject  of  discourse  in  her  ab- 
sence. Alt  that  already  had  been  spread 
abroad,  of  her  acting,  her  teaching,  her 
playing  the  harp,  her  needle-work,  and, 
more  than  all,  her  having  excited  a 
suicide ;  was  now  in  every  mouth  5  and 
curiosity,  baffled  in  successive  attempts 
to  penetrate  into  the  truth,  supplied,  as 
usual,  every  chasm  of  fact  by  invention,^ 
This  species  of  commerce,  always  at 
hand,  and  always  fertile,  proved  so 
highly  amusing  to  the  lassitude  of  the 
idle,  and  to  the  frivolousness  of  the 
dissipated,  that,  in  a  very  few  days,  the 
shop  of  Miss  Matson  became  the  general 
rendezvous  of  the  saunterers,  male  and 
female,  of  Brightlielmstone.  The  starers- 
were  happy  to  present  themselves  where 
there  was  something  to  see  ;  the  strollers, 
where  there  was  any  where  to  go ;  the 
loungers,  where  there  was  any  pretence  to 
stay  J  and  the  curious  where  there  was  any 


(     "5    ) 

thing  to  develop  in  which  they  had  no 
concern. 

Juliet,  at  first,  ignorant  of  the  usual 
traffic  of  the  shop,  imagined  this  af- 
fluence of  customers  to  be  habitual ;  but 
she  was  soon  undeceived,  by  finding 
herself  the  object  of  inquisitive  examina- 
tion ;  and  by  overhearing  unrestrained 
inquiries  made  to  Miss  Matson,  of  "Pray, 
Ma'am,  which  is  your  famous  French 
milliner  ?" 

In  the  midst  of  these  various  distastes 
and  discomforts,  some  interest  was  raised 
in  the  mind  of  Juliet,  for  one  of  her 
young  fellow-work- women.  It  was  not, 
indeed,  that  warm  interest  which  is  the 
precursor  of  friendship  ;  its  object  had 
no  qualities  that  could  rise  to  such  a 
height ;  it  was  simply  a  sensation  of  pity, 
abetted  by  a  wish  of  doing  good. 

Flora  Pierson,  without  either  fine  fea- 
tures or  fine  countenance,  had  strikino-lv 
the  beauty  of  youth  in  a  fair  complexion, 
round,  plump,  rosy  cheeks,  bright, 
though  unmeaning  eyes,  and  an  air  of 


(     ii6     ) 

health,  strength,  and  juvenile  good 
humour,  that  was  diffused  copiously 
through  her  whole  appearance.  She  was 
innocent  and  inoffensive,  and,  as  far  as 
she  was  able  to  think,  well  meaning,  and 
ready  to  be  at  every  body's  command ; 
though  incapable  to  be  at  any  body's 
service.  Yet  her  simplicity  was  of  that 
happy  sort  that  never  occasions  self- 
distress,  from  being  wholly  unaccom- 
panied by  any  consciousness  of  defi- 
ciency or  inferiority.  Accustomed  to 
be  laughed  at  almost  whenever  she 
spoke,  she  saw  the  smile  that  she  raised 
without  emotion  ;  or  participated  in  it 
without  knowing  why  ;  and  she  heard 
the  sneer  that  followed  her  simple  merri- 
ment without  displeasure  ;  though  some-, 
times  she  would  a  little  wonder  what  it 
meant. 

This  young  creature,  who  had  but 
barely  passed  her  sixteenth  year,  had 
already  attracted  the  dangerous  attention 
of  various  officers,  from  whose  several 
attacks  and  manoeuvres  she  had  hitherto 


C     "7    ) 

been  rescued  by  the  vigilance  of  Miss 
Matson.  Each  of  these  anecdotes  she 
eagerly  took,  or  rather  made  opportu- 
nities to  communicate  to  Juliet  ;  waiting 
for  no  other  encouragement  than  the 
absence  of  Miss  Matson,  and  using  no 
other  prelude  than  "  Now  I*ve  got 
something  else  to  tell  you  T* 

Except  for  some  slight  mixture  of  con- 
tempt, Juliet  heard  these  tales  with 
perfect  indifference  ;  till  that  ungenial 
feeling,  or  rather  absence  of  feeling,  was 
superceded  by  compassion,  upon  finding 
that  she  was  the  object,  probably  the 
dupe,  of  a  new  and  unHnished  adventure, 
with  which  Miss  Matson  was  as  yet  un- 
acquainted. "  Now,  Miss  Ellis  I"  she 
cried,  "  I'll  teli  you  the  drollest  part  of 
all,  shall  I  ?  Well,  do  you  kiiow  I've  got 
another  admirer  that's  above  all  the 
rest  ?  And  yet  he  i'n't  a  captain,  neither, 
nor  an  officer.  But  he's  quite  a  gentle- 
man of  quality,  for  he's  a  knight 
baronight.  And  he's  very  pretty,  I 
assure  you.     As  pretty  as  you,  only  his 


(     ii8     ) 

nose  is  a  little  shorter,  and  his  mouth  is 
a  little  bigger.  And  he  has  not  got  quite 
^  so  much  colour ;  for  he  is  very  pale.  But 
he's  prettier  than  I  am,  I  believe.  Y^t 
I'm  not  very  homely,  people  say.  I'm 
sure  I  don't  know.  One  can't  judge 
one's  self.  But  I  believe  I'm  very  well. 
At  least,  I  am  not  very  brown ;  I  know 
that,  by  my  looking-glass.  I've  a  pretty 
good  skin  of  my  ow  n." 

Neither  the  giggling  derision  of  her 
fellow-work-women,  nor  the  total  absti- 
nence from  enquiry  or  comment  with 
which  Juliet  heard  these  insignificant 
details,  checked  the  pleasure  of  Flora  in 
her  own  prattle  ;  which,  whenever  she 
could  find  some  one  to  address,  —  for 
she  waited  not  till  any  one  would  listen, 
—  went  on,  with  sleepy  good  humour, 
and  pretty,  but  unintelligent  smilea, 
from  the  moment  that  she  rose,  to  the 
moment  that  she  went  to  rest.  But  when, 
in  great  confidence,  and  declaring  that 
nobody  was  in  the  secret,  except  just 
Miss  Biddy,  and  Miss  Jenny,  and  Miss 

7 


(     "9    ) 

Polly,  and  Miss  Betsey,  she  made  known 
who   was   this   last   and    most    striking 

o 

admirer,    the    attention    of  Juliet   was 
roused  ;  it  was  Sir  Lyell  Sycamore. 

Copiously,  and  with  looks  of  triumph, 
Flora  related  her  history  with  the  young 
Baronet.     First  of  all,  she  said,  he  had 
declared,  in   ever  so  many  little  whis- 
pers, that  he  was  in  love  with  her  ;  and 
next,   he  had  made  her  ever  so  many 
beautiful  presents,  of  ear-rings,  necklaces, 
and  trinkets;  always  sending  them  by  a 
porter,  who  pretended  that  they  were 
just  arrived   by  the  Diligence ;   with  a 
letter  to  shew  to  Miss  Matson,  importing 
that  an  uncle  of  Flora's,  who  resided  in 
Northumberlandshire,  begged  her  to  ac- 
cept  these   remembrances.      "  Though 
I'm  sure  I  don't  know  how  he  found 
-out  that  I've  got  an  uncle  there,"  she 
continued,  "  unless  it  was  by  my  telling 
it  him,  when  he  asked  me  what  relations 
I  had." 

Her  gratitude  and  vanity  thus  at  once 
excited,  Sir  Lyell  told  her  that  he  had 


<        I20       ) 

gome  important  intelligence  to  com- 
municate, which  could  not  he  re- 
vealed in  a  short  whisper  in  the  shop : 
■he  begged  her,  therefore,  to  meet  him 
upon  the  Strand,  a  little  way  out  of  the 
town,  one  Sunday  afternoon  ;  while  Miss 
Matson  might  suppose  that  she  was 
taking  her  usual  recreation  with  the  rest 
of  the  young  ladies.  "  So  I  could  not 
refuse  him,  you  may  think,'*  she  said, 
"  after  being  so  much  obliged  to  him ; 
and  so  we  walked  together  by  the  sea- 
side, and  he  was  as  agreeable  as  ever; 
and  so  was  I,  too,  I  believe,  if  I  may 
judge  Vvdthout  flattery.  At  least,  he 
said  I  was,  over  and  over  ;  and  he's  a 
pretty  good  judge,  I  believe,  a  man  of 
his  quality.  But  I  sha'n't  tell  you  what 
he  said  to  me;  for  he  said  I  was  as  fresh 
as  a  violet,  and  as  fair  as  jessamy,  and  as 
sweet  as  a  pink,  and  as  rosy  as  a  rose ; 
but  one  must  not  over  and  above  believe 
the  gentlemen,  mama  says,  for  what  they 
say  is  but  half  a  compliment.  However, 
what  do  you  think.  Miss  Ellis?    Only 


(  I-«  ) 

^gessl  For  all  his  being  so  polite,  do 
yon  know,  he  was  upon  tlie  point  of 
behaving  rude  ?  Only  I  told  him  I*d 
squall  out,  if  he  did.  But  he  spoke  so 
pretty  when  he  saw  I  was  vexed,  that  I 
could  not  be  very  angry  with  him  about 
k  ;■  could  I  ?  Besides,  men  will  be  rude, 
Eaturaliy,  mamma  says," 

"  But  does  not  your  mama  tell  you, 
also.  Miss  Pierson,  tliat  you  must  not 
walk  out  alone  witli  gentlemen  ?'' 

"  O  dear,  yes  !  She's  told  rae  that  ever 
so  often.  And  I  told  it  to  Sir  Lyell ; 
and  I  said  to  him  we  had  better  not  go. 
But  he  said  that  v/ould  kill  him,  poor 
gentleman]  And  he  looked  as  sorrowful 
as  ever  you  sav/ ;  just  as  if  he  was  going 
to  cry.  I'm  sure  I'm  glad  he  did  not^ 
poor  gentleman !  for  if  he  h^ad,  it's  ten  to 
one  but  I  should  have  cried  tpoj  unless^ 
out  of  ill  luck,  I  had  happened  to  fall  a 
laughing.;  for  it's  odds  which  I  do, 
sometimes,  when  I'm  put  in  a  fidget. 
However,  upon  seeing  his  sister,  along 
ynih  some  company  of  his  acquaintance, 

VOL.  III.  c 


(      122       ) 

not  far  off,  he  said  I  had  better  go  back: 
but  he  promised  me,  ifl  would  meet  him 
again  the  next  Sunday,  he  would  have  a 
post-chaise  o'purpose  for  me,  because  of 
the  pebbles  being  so  hard  for  my  feet; 
and  he'd  take  me  ever  so  pretty  a  ride, 
he  said,  upon  the  Dowus.  But  he  came 
the  next  morning  to  tell  me  he  was 
forced,  by  ill  luck,  to  go  to  London; 
but  he'd  soon  be  back :  and  he  bid  me, 
ever  so  often,  not  to  say  one  word  of 
what  had  passed  to  a  living  creature ; 
for  if  his  sister  should  get  an  inkling  of 
bis  being  in  love  with  me,  there  would 
be  fine  work,  he  said  !  But  he'd  bring 
me  ever  so  many  pretty  things,, hp  said, 
from  London."  .^ 

Juliet  listened  to  this  history  with  the 
deepest  indignation  against  the  bar- 
barous libertine,  who,  with  egotism  so 
inhuman,  sought  to  rob,  first  of  inno- 
cence, and  next,  for  it  would  be  the 
inevitable  consequence,  of  all  her  fair  ; 
prospects  in  life,  a  young  creature  whose, 
simplicity  disabled  her  from  seeing  her  r 
6 


(     '23    ) 

danger ;  whose  credulity  induced  her 
to  agree  to  whatever  was  proposed;  and 
whose  weakness  of  intellect  rendered  it 
as  much  a  dishonour  as  a  cruelty  to 
make  her  a  dupe. 

Whatever  could  be  suggested  to 
awaken  the  simple  maiden  to  a  sense  of 
her"  perilous  situation,  was  instantly 
urged;  hut  without  any  effect.  Sir 
Lyell  Sycamore,  she  ansvrered,  had 
owned  that  he  was  in  love  with  her;  and 
it  was  very  hard  if  she  must  be  ill  na- 
tured  to  him  in  return  ;  especially  as,  if 
she  behaved  agreeably,  nobody  could 
tell  but  he  might  mean  to  make  her  a 
lady.  Where  a  vision  so  refulgent,  which 
every  speech  of  Sir  Lyell's,  couched  in 
ambiguous  terms,  though  adroitly  ev^asive 
ofpromise,  had  been  insidiously  calculated 
to  present,  was  sparkling  full  in  sight, 
how  unequal  were  the  efforts  of  sober 
truth  and  reason,  to  substitute  in  its 
place  cold,  dull,  disappointing  reality ! 
Juliet  soon  relinquished  the  attempt  a» 
hopeless.     Where  ignorance  is   united 

G    2 


(   iM  ) 

with  vanity,  advice,  or  reproof,  combafc 
it  in  vain.  She  addressed  lier  remon- 
strances, therefore,  to  their  fellow- v/ork- 
wonien ;  every  one  of  which,  it  was 
evident,  was  a  confident  of  the  danger* 
ous  secret.  How  was  it,  she  demanded, 
that,  aware  of  the  ductihty  of  temper  of 
this  poor  young  creature,  they  had 
suffered  her  to  form  so  alarminoj  a  con- 
nexion,  unknown  either  to  her  friends 
or  to  Miss  Matson  ? 

Pettishly  affronted,  they  answered, 
that  they  were  not  a  set  of  fusty 
duennas  :  that  if  Miss  Pierson  were  ever 
so  young,  that  did  not  make  them  old  ; 
that  she  might  as  well  take  care  of  her- 
self, therefore,  as  they  of  themselves^ 
Besides,  nobody  could  tell  but  Sir  Lyell 
Sycamore  meant  to  marry  her  ;  and  in- 
deed they  none  of  them  doubted  that 
6uch  was  his  design  j  because  he  was 
politeness  itself  to  all  of  them  round, 
though  he  was  most  particular,  to  be 
sure,  to  Miss  Pierson.  They  could  not 
think,  therefore,  of  making  such  a  gen- 


(     ^^5    3 

tieman  their  enemy,  any  more  than  of 
standing  in  the  way  of  Miss  Pieraon's 
good  fortune ;  for,  to  their  certain 
knowledge,  there  were  more  grand 
matches  spoilt  by  meddling  and  making, 
than  by  any  thing  else  upon  earth. 

Here  again,  what  were  the  chances  of 
truth  and  reason  against  the  semblance, 
at  least  the  pretence  of  generosity,  which 
thus  covered  folly  and  imprudence?  Each 
aspiring  damsel,  too,  had  some  similar 
secret,  or  correspondent  hope  of  her 
own  ;  and  found  it  convenient  to  reject, 
as  treachery,  an  appeal  against  a  sister 
work- woman,  that  might  operate  as  an- 
example  for  a  similar  one  against  her- 
self. 

Juliet,  therefore,  could  but  determine 
to  watch  the  w^eak,  if  not  willing  victim, 
while  yet  under  the  same  roof;  and 
openly,  before  she  quitted  it,  to  reveal 
the  threatening  danger  to  Miss  Matson, 

od    OJ    ^.'ifiiLJr 
JOI> 

G  3 


(       126      j 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

T^HE  first  Sunday  that  Juliet  passed  if? 
this  new  situation,  nearly  robbed  her 
of  the  good  will  of  the  whole  of  the  little 
community  to  which  she  belonged.  It 
was  the  only  day  in  the  week  in  which 
the  young  work-women  were  allowed 
some  hours  for  recreation  ^  they  consi- 
dered it,  therefore,  as  rightfully  dedi- 
cated, after  the  church-service,  to  amuse- 
ment with  one  another ;  and  Juliet,  in 
refusing  to  join  in  a  custom  which  they 
held  to  be  the  basis  of  their  freedom 
and  happiness,  appeared  to  them  an  un- 
social and  haughty  innovator.  Yet 
neither  wearying  remonstrances,  nor 
persecuting  persuasions,  could  prevail 
upon  her  to  parade  with  them  upon  the 
Steyne;  to  stroll  with  them  by  the  sea- 
side ;  to  ramble  upon  the  Downs ;  or  to 
form  a  party  for  Shoreham,  or  Devil's 
Dyke. 


(      147      > 

Evil  is  so  relative,  that  the  same  cham- 
ber, the  lonely  sadness  of  v/hich,  since 
her  privation  oF  Gabriella,  had  become 
Kearly  insupportable  to  her^.was  now, 
from  a  new  contrast,  almost  all  that  she 
immediately  coveted.  The  bustle,,  the 
fatigue,  the  obtrusion  of  new  faces,  the 
spirit  of  petty  intrigue,  and  the  eternal 
clang  of  tongues ;  whigh  she  had  to  en- 
dure in  the  shop,  made  quiet,  even  in  its 
most  uninteresting  dulness,  desirable  and 
consoling. 

To  approach  herself,  as  nearly  as 
might  be  in  her  power,  to  the  loved  so- 
ciety which  she  had  lost,  she  destined 
this  only  interval  of  peace  and  leisure, 
to  her  pen  and  Gabriella ;  and  such  was 
her  employment,  v/hen  the  sound  of  slow 
^teps,  upon  the  stairs,  followed  by  a  gen- 
tle tap  at  her  door,  at  once  interrupted 
and  surprised  her.  Miss  Matson  and  her 
maids,  as  well  as  her  work- women,  v/ere 
spending  their  wSabbath  abroad  ;  and  a 
shopman  was  left  to  take  care  of  the  housq. 
Tiie,  tap,  however,  wa^  repeated,  and^ 

^  4  3/i(U 


<     '28      ) 

obeying  its  call,  Juliet  beheld  Sir  Jaspar 
Herrington,  the  gouty  old  Baronet. 

The  expression  of  her  countenance 
immediately  demanded  explanation.  Hi 
Bot  apology,  as  she  stepped  forward 
upon  the  landing-place,  to  make  clear 
that  she  should  not  receive  him  in  her 
apartment. 

His  keen  eye  read  her  meaning, 
though,  affecting  not  to  perceive  it,  he 
pleasantly  said,  "  How  P  immured  ia 
your  chamber  ?  and  of  a  gala  day  ?" 

The  recollection  of  the  essential,  how- 
ever forced  obligation,  which  she  owed 
to  him,  for  her  deliverance  from  the 
persecution  of  Miss  Bydel,  soon  dissi- 
pated her  first  impression  in  his  disfa- 
vour, and  she  quietly  answered  that  she 
went  very  little  abroad  :  but  when  she 
would  have  enquired  into  his  business, 
*'  You  can  refuse  yourself,  then,''  he 
cried,  pretending  not  to  hear  her,  '^  the 
honour  —  or  pleasure,  which  shall  we 
call  it?  of  sharing  in  the  gaieties  of 
your  flvir  fellow-votaries  to  the  needle  ? 


(     i29     ) 

I  suspected  you  of  this  self-denial.  I 
had  a  secret  presentiment  that  you  would 
be  insensible  to  the  iluttering  joys,  of 
your  sister  spinsters.  How  did  I  divine 
you  so  well  ?  What  is  it  you  have  about 
you  tliat  sets  one's  imagination  so  to 
work  ?*' 

Juliet  replied,  that  she  would  not  pre- 
sume to  interfere  with  the  business  of 
his  penetration,  but  that,  as  she  was  oc- 
cupied, she  must  beg  to  know,  at  once, 
his  commands* 

"  Not  so  hasty!  not  so  hasty  i"  he 
cried  :  "  You  must  shew  me  some  little 
consideration,  if  only  in  excuse  for  the 
total  want  of  it  which  you  have  caused 
in  those  little  imps,  that  beset  my  slum- 
bers by  night,  and  my  reveries  by  day. 
They  have  gotten  so  much  the  better  of 
me  now,  that  I  am  equally  at  a  loss  how 
to  sleep  or  how  to  wake  for  them.  '  Why 
don't  you  find  out,'  they  cry,  '  whether 
this  syren  likes  her  new  situation  ?  Why 
don't  you  discover  v/hether  any  thing 
better  can  be  done  for  her?'  And 
^  5 


(    ^30   ; 

ithen,  all  of  one  accord,  they  so  pommel 
and  bemaul  me,  that  you  would  pity  me, 
I  give  you  my  word,  if  you  could  see 
the  condition  into  which  they  put  my 
poor  conscience ;  however  little  so  fair 
a  young  creature  may  be  disposed  to  feel 
pity,  for  such  a  hobbling,  gouty  old  fellow 
as  I  am  1" 

Softened  by  this  benevolent  solicitude, 
Juliet,  thankfully,  spoke  of  herself  with 
all  the  cheerfulness  that  she  could  as- 
sume  ;  and,  encouraged  by  her  lessened 
reserve.  Sir  Jaspar,  to  her  unspeakable 
surprise,  said,  "  There  is  one  point, 
I  own,  which  I  have  an  extreme  desire 
to  know  ;  how  long  may  it  be  that  you 
have  left  the  stage,  and  from  what  latent 
cause  ?" 

No  explanation,  however,  could  be 
attempted :  the  attention  of  Juliet  was 
called  into  another  channel,  by  the 
sound  of  a  titter,  which  led  her  to  per- 
ceive Flora  Pierson  5  who,  almost  con- 
vulsed with  delight  at  having  surprised 
them,  said  that  she  had  heard,  from  the 


(     '31     ) 

sIiop-iYian,  that  Miss  Ellis  and  Sir  Jaspar 
were  talking  together  upon  the  stairs, 
and  slie  had  stolen  up  the  back  way,  and 
crept  softly  through  one  of  the  garrets, 
on  purpose  to  come  upon  theii>  unaware*, 
^^^So  now,"  added  she,  nodding,  "  we'll 
go  into  my  room,  if  yoii  please,  Miss 
Elli3;  for  I  have  got  sometljing  else  to 
tell  you !  only  yoa  must  iiOt  stay  with 
me  long." 

2c  "  And  not  to  tell  me,  too  t"  cried  Sir 
Jaspar,  chucking  her  under  tlie  chin  : 
"  How's  this,  my  daffodil  ?  my  pink  ? 
my  iilly  ?  how's  this  ?  surely  you  have 
not  any  secrets  for  me  r" 

"  O  yes,  I  have.  Sir  Jaspar  !  because 
you're  a  gentleman,  you  know.  Sir 
Jaspar.  And  one  must  not  tell  everv 
thing  to  gentlemen,  mamma  says." 
:  "Mamma  says  ?  but  yon  are  too  much 
a  woman  to  mind  what  mamma  says,  I 
hope,  my  rose,  my  daisy  ?"  cried  Sir  Jas- 
par, chucking  her  again  under  the  chin, 
while  she  smiled  and  courtsied  in  return. 

Juliet    Vvould    have     re-entered    her 
G   6 


(     132     ) 

chamber;  but  Flora,  catching  hergown, 
said,  ''  Why  now,  Miss  Ellis,  I  bid  you 
come  to  my  room,  if  you  please,  Miss 
Ellis  ;  'cause  then  I  can  shov/  you  my 
presents;  as  well  as  tell  you  something.-^ 
Come,  will  you  go  ?  for  it's  something 
that's  quite  a  secret,  I  assure  you  ;  for  I 
have  not  told  it  to  any  body  yet;  not 
even  to  our  young  ladies  ;  for  it's  but 
just  happened.  So  you've  got  my  first 
confidence  this  time  :  and  you  have  a 
right  to  take  that  very  kind  of  me,  for 
it's  what  I've  promised,  upon  my  word 
and  honour,  and  as  true  as  true  can  be, 
not  to  tell  to  any  body ;  not  so  much  as 
to  a  living  soul !" 

To  be  freed  quietly  from  the  Baronet, 
Juliet  consented  to  attend  her;  and 
Flora,  Vvith  many  smiles  and  nods  at  Sir 
Jaspar,  begged  that  he  would  not  be  af- 
fronted that  she  did  not  tell  all  her 
secrets  t©  gentlemen  ;  and,  shutting  him 
out,  began  her  tale. 

«  Now  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is  I'm 
going  to  tell  you,  Miss  Ellis.  Do  you 
know  who  I  met,  just  now,  upotl  th^ 


C     JJ3    ) 

Steyne,  while  I  was  walking  with  otir 
young  ladies,  not  thinking  of  any  thing  ? 
You  can't  guess,  can  you  ?  Why  Sir 
Ly ell  himself.  I  gave  such  a  squeak! 
But  he  spoke  to  ail  our  young  ladies 
first.  And  I  was  half  a  mind  to  cry  ; 
only  I  happened  to  be  in  one  of  my 
laughing  fits.  And  when  once  I  am 
upon  my  gig,  papa  says,  if  the  world 
were  all  to  tumble  down,  it  would  not 
hinder  me  of  my  smihng.  Though  I  am 
sure  I  often  don't  know  what  it's  for. 
If  any  body  asked  me,  I  could  not  tell, 
one  time  in  twenty.  But  Sir  Lyell's 
very  clever ;  cleverer  than  I  am,  by 
half,  I  believe.  Fcr  he  got  to  speak  to 
me,  at  last,  so  as  nobody  could  hear  a 
word  he  said,  but  just  me.  Nor  I  could 
not,  either,  but  only  he  spoke  quite  in 
my  ear." 

"  And  do  you  think  it  right.  Miss  Pier- 
son,  to  let  gentlemen  whisper  you  ?" 

"  O,  I  could  not  bid  him  not,  you 
know.  I  could  not  be  rude  to  a  Knio-ht- 
Baronet !  Besides,  he  said  he  was  come 
dowa    from   London,    on    purpose    for 


(     »3+    ) 

nothing  else  but  to  see  me!  A  Kijight- 
Baronet,  Miss  Ellis  !  That's  very  good 
natured,  is  it  not  ?  I  dare  say  he  means 
something  by  it.  Don't  you  ?  How- 
ever, I  shall  know  more  by  and  by,  most 
likely ;  for  he  whispered  me  to  make 
believe  I'd  got  a  head-ache,  and  to  come 
home  by  myself,  and  wait  for  him  in  my 
own  room  :  for  he  says  he  has  brought 
me  the  prettiest  present  that  ever  I  saw 
from  London.  So  you  see  how  generous 
he  is  ;  i'n't  he  ?  And  he'll  bring  it  me 
himself,  to  make  me  a  little  visit.  So 
then,  very  likely,  he'll  speak  out.  Won't 
he  ?  But  he  bid  me  tell  it  to  nobody. 
So  say  nothing  if  you  see  him,  for  it  will 
only  be  the  way  to  make  him  angry.  I 
must  not  put  the  shopman  in  the  secret, 
he  says,  for  he  shall  only  ask  for  old  Sir 
Jaspar ;  and  he  shall  go  to  him  first,  and 
make  the  shopman  think  he  is  with  him 
all  the  time.  So  I  told  our  young  ladies 
I'd  got  a  head-ache,  sure  enough  ;  but 
don't  be  uneasy,  for  it's  only  make 
believe  ;  for  I'm  very  well." 


(     ^25    ) 

Filled  with  alarm  for  the  simple,  de- 
luded maiden,  Juliet  now  made  an  un- 
disguised representation  of  her  danger ; 
earnestly  charging  her  not  to  receive  the 
dangerous  visit. 

But  Flora,  self-willed,  though  good 
natured,  would  not  hear  a  word. 

No  ass  so  meek; — no  mule  so  obstinate. 

She  never  contradicted,  yet  never 
listened  ;  she  never  gave  an  opinion, 
yet  never  followed  one.  She  was  neither 
endowed  with  timidity  to  suspect  her 
deficiencies,  nor  with  sense  to  conceive 
how  she  might  be  better  informed.  She 
came  to  Juliet  merely  to  talk  ;  and  vvhen 
her  prattle  Vvas  over,  or  interrupted,  she 
had  no  thouiyht  but  to  be  crone. 

"  O  yes,  I  must  see  him.  Miss  Ellis, 
she  cried  ;  "  for  you  can't  think  how  ill 
he'll  take  it,  if  I  don't.  But  now  we 
have  stayed  talking  together  so  long,  I 
can't  shew  you  my  presents  till  he  is 
gone,  for  fear  he  should  come.  But 
don't  mind,  for  then   1  shall  have  the 


(  ,  I3S    ) 

new  ones  to  sliew  you,  too.  Bat  if  I 
don't  do  what  he  bids  me,  he'll  be  as 
angry  as  can  be,  for  all  he's  my  lover  ; 
(smiling.)  He  makes  very  free  v;ith  me 
sometimes  5  only  I  don't  mind  it  j  be- 
cause I'm  pretty  much  used  to  it,  from 
one  or  another.  Sometimes  he'll  say  I 
am  the  greatest  simpleton  that  ever  he 
knew  in  his  life ;  for  all  he  calls  me  his 
angel !  He  don't  make  much  ceremony 
with  me,  when  I  don't  understand  his 
signs.  But  it  don't  much  signify,  for 
the  more  he's  angry,  the  more  he's  kind, 
when  it's  over,  (smiling.)  And  then  he 
brings  me  prettier  things  than  ever.  So 
I  a'n't  much  a  loser.  I've  no  great 
need  to  cry  about  it.  And  he  says  I'm 
quite  a  little  goddess,  often  and  ofteHj, 
if  I'd  believe  him.  Only  one  must  not 
believe  the  men  over  much,  when  they 
are  gentlemen,  I  believe."  n 

Juliet,  kindly  taking  her  hand,  would, 
have  drawn  her  into  her  own  chamber  j>v^ 
but  they  were  no  sooner  in  the  passage, 
than  Flora  jumped  back,  and,  shaking 


(     ^37) 

with  laughter  at  her  ingenuity,  shut  and 
locked  herself  into  her  room.  ■  '^ '   ' 

Juliet  now  renounced,  perforce,  all 
thought  of  serving  her  except  through 
the  medium  of  Miss  Matson ;  and  she 
was  returning,  much  vexed,  to  her  own 
small  apartment,  when  she  sav/  Sir  Jaspar, 
who,  leaning  against  the  banisters, 
seemed  to  have  been  waiting  for  her, 
step  curiously  forward,  as  she  opened 
her  door,  to  take  a  view  of  her  chamber. 
With  quick  impulse,  to  check  this  liberty, 
she  hastily  pushed  to  the  door ;  not  re- 
collecting, till  too  late,  that  the  key,  by 
which  alone  it  was  opened,  was  on  the 
inside. 

Chagrined,  she  repaired  to  Flora, 
telling  the  accident,  and  begging  ad- 
mittance. 

Flora,  laughing  with  all  her  heart, 
positively  refused  to  open  the  door ; 
saying  that  she  would  rather  be  without 
company. 

Tlie  shop- man  now  came  up  stairs,  to 
see  what  was  going  forward,  and  to  en= 


(    138     ) 

quire  whether  Miss  Pierson,  who  had 
told  him  that  she  v/as  ill,  found  herself 
worse.  Flora,  hastily  checking  her 
mirth,  answered  that  her  head  ached> 
and  she  would  lie  down ;  and  then  spoke 
no  more. 

The  shop-man  made  an  attempt  to 
enter  into  conversation  with  Juliet; 
but  she  gravely  requested  that  he  would 
be  so  good  as  to  order  a  smith  to  open 
the  lock  of  her  door. 

He  ought  not,  he  said,  to  leave  the 
house  in  the  absence  of  Miss  Matson  ^ 
but  he  would  run  the  risk  for  the  plea- 
sure of  obliging  her,  if  she  vi^ould  only 
step  down  into  the  shop,  to  answer  to 
the  bell  or  the  knocker. 

To  this,  in  preference  to  being  shut 
out  of  her  room,  she  would  immediately 
have  consented,  but  that  she  feared  the 
arrival  of  Sir  Lyell  Sycamore.  She 
asked  the  shop- man,  therefore,  if  there 
were  any  objection  to  her  waiting  in  the 
little  parlour. 

None  in  the  world,  he  answered ;  for 


(     ^39    ) 

he  had  Miss  Zvlatson's  leave  io  use  it 
when  she  was  out  of  a  Sunday;  and  he 
should  he  very  glad  if  Miss  Eilis  would 
oblige  him  with  her  company. 

Juliet  declined  this  proposal  with  an 
air  that  repressed  any  further  attempt  at 
intimacy;  and  the  shop-man  returned 
to  his  post. 

"  I  must  not,  I  suppose,"  the  Baronet, 
then  advancing,  said,  "  presume  to 
offer  you  shelter  under  my  roof  from  the 
inclemencies  of  the  stair-case  ?  And 
yet  I  think  I  may  venture,  without  being 
indecorous,  to  mention,  that  I  am  going 
out  for  my  usual  airing ;  and  that  you 
may  take  possession  of  your  old  apart- 
ment, upon  your  own  misanthropical 
terms.  At  all  events,  I  shall  leave  you 
the  door  open,  place  some  books  upon 
the  table,  take  out  my  servants,  and 
order  that  no  one  shall  molest  you." 

Extremely  pleased  by  a  kindness  so 
much  to  her  taste,  Juliet  would  grate- 
fully have  accepted  this  offer,  but  for  the 
visit  that  she  knew  to  be  designed  for 


(      I40     ) 

tlie  same  apartment;  which  the  absence 
of  its  master  was  not  likely  to  prevent, 
as  the  pretence  of  writing  a  note,  or  his 
name,  would  suffice  with  Sir  Lyell  for 
mounting  the  stairs,  V/ho  then  could 
protect  Flora?  Could  Juliet  herself 
come  forward,  when  no  one  else  remain- 
ed  in  the  house,  conscious,  as  she  could 
not  but  be,  of  the  dishonourable  views  of 
which  she,  also,  had  been  the  object  ? 
The  departure  of  Sir  Jaspar  appeared, 
therefore,  to  be  big  with  mischief;  and, 
when  he  was  making  a  leave-taking 
bow,  she  almost  involuntarily  said, 
''  You  are  forced,  then,  Sir,  to  go  out 
this  morning  r" 

Surprised  and  pleased,  he  ansvv'ered, 
"  What !  have  my  little  fairy  elves  given 
you  a  lesson  of  humanity  ?  Nay,  if  so, 
though  they  should  pommel  and  maul 
me  for  a  month  to  come,  I  shall  yet  be 
their  obedient  humble  servant." 

He  then  gave  orders  aloud  that  his 
carriage  should  be  put  up  ;  saying,  that 
he   had  letters   to  write,  and   that  his 


C     HI     ) 

servants  might  go  and  amuse  tliemselves 
for  an  hour  or  two  where  they  pleased. 
giiJuHet,  now,  was  crimsoned  witli  shame 
and  embarrassment.  How  account  for 
thus  palpably  w'ishing  him  to  remain 
Hi;  the  house  ?  or  how  suffer  him,  by 
silence,  to  suppose  it  was  from  a  desire 
of  his  society  ?  Her  blushes  astonished, 
yet,  by  heightening  her  beauty,  charmed 
still  more  than  they  perplexed  him.  To 
settle  what  to  think  of  her  might  be 
diuicult  and  teazing ;  but  to  admire  her 
was  easy  and  pleasant.  He  approached 
her,  therefore,  with  the  most  flattering 
looks  and  smiles ;  but,  to  avoid  any  mis- 
take in  his  manner  of  addressing  her, 
lie  kept  his  speech  back,  with  his  judg- 
ment, till  he  could  learn  her  purpose. 

This  prudential  circumspection  re- 
doubled lier  confusion,  and  she  hesi- 
tatingly stammered  her  concern  that  she 
had  prevented  his  airing. 

More  amazed  still,  but  still  more 
enchanted,  to  see  her  thus  at  a  loss  what 
to  say,  though  evidently  pleased  that  he 


(     H2     ) 

iiad  relinquished  his  little  excursion^ 
he  was  making  a  motion  to  take  her 
hand,  which  she  had  scarcely  perceived, 
when  a  violent  ringing  at  the  door-beU; 
checked  him ;  and  concentrated  all  her 
solicitude  in  the  im.pending  danger  of 
Flora  ;  and,  in  her  eagerness  to  rescue 
the  simple  girl  from  ruin,  she  hastily 
said :  "  Can  you,  Sir  Jaspar,  forgive  a 
liberty  in  the  cause  of  humanity  ?  May 
I  appeal  to  your  generosity  ?  You  will 
receive  a  visitor  in  a  few  minutes,  whom 
I  have  earnest  reasons  for  wishing  you  to 
detain  in  your  apartment  to  the  last 
moment  that  is  possible.  May  I  make 
so  extraordinary  a  request  ?*' 

"  Request?"  repeated  Sir  Jaspar, 
charmed  by  what  he  considered  as  an 
opening  to  intimacy ;  "  can  you  utter  - 
any  thing  but  commands?  The  most 
benignant  sprite  of  all  Fairyland,  has  in- 
spired you  with  this  gracious  disposition 
to  dub  me  your  knight." 

Yet  his  eye^  still  bright  with  intelli- 
gence, and  now  full  of  fanciful  wonder. 


(■    143     ) 

suddenly  emitted  an  expression  less 
rapturous,  when  he  distinguished  the 
voice  of  Sir  Lyell  Sycamore,  in  parley 
with  the  shop-man.  Disappointment 
and  chagrin  soon  took  place  of  sportive 
playfulness  in  his  countenance ;  and, 
muttering  between  his  teeth,  "  O  ho! 
Sir  Lyell  Sycamore!"  —  he  fixed  his 
keen  eyes  sharply  upon  Juliet ;  with  a 
look  in  which  she  could  not  but  read  the 
ill  construction  to  which  her  seemingr 
knowledge  of  that  young  man's  motions, 
and  her  apparent  interest  in  them,  made 
her  liable ;  and  how  much  his  light 
opinion  of  Sir  Lyell's  character,  affected 
his  partial,  though  still  fluctuating  one 
of  her  own. 

Sir  Lyell,  however,  was  upon  the 
stairs,  and  she  did  not  dare  enter  into 
any  justification  ;  Sir  Jaspar,  too,  was 
silent ;  but  the  young  baronet  mounted, 

singing,  in  a  loud  voice, 

«. 

O  my  love,  lov'st  thou  me  ? 
Then  quickly  come  and  see  one  who  dies  for  thee  ! 
pT8bno7^  fmbniii  *io  IIul  won  btta  e'-'oa^^. 
^«  Yes  here  I  come,  Sir  Lyell  !'*  —  in  a 


(      H4     ) 

law,-  husky,  laughing  voice,  ci'ied  Mora, 
peeping  through  her  chamber-door ; 
ViFhich  was  immediately  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs,  upon  the  second  flooi^f  aM 
to  which  Sir  Lyell  looked  up^  softly 
whispering,  "  Be  still,  my  little  n%er  1 
and,in  ten  minutes — '*  He  stopt  abruptly, 
for  Sir  Jaspar  now  caught  his  astonished 
sight,  upon  the  landing-place  of  the 
attic  story,  with  Juliet  retreating  behind 
him.  ■ 

r  *' O  ho!  you  are  there,  are  you?" 
he  cried,  in  a  tone  of  ludicrous  accusa- 
tion. 

"  And  you,  you  are  there,  are  you  ?'* 
answered  Sir  Jaspar,  in  a  voice  more 
seriously  taunting. 

Juliet,  hurt  and  confounded,  would 
have  escaped  through  the  garret  to  the 
back  stairs;  but  that  her  hat  and  cloak, 
without  which  she  could  not  leave  the 
house,  were  shut  into  her  room.  She 
tried,  therefore,  to  look  unmoved;  Vv^ell 
aware  that  the  best  chance  to  escape 
impertinence,  is  by  not  appearing  to 
suspect  that  any  s  intended. 


(     H5    ) 

Three  strides  now  brought  Sir  Lyell 
before  her.  His  amazement,  vented  by 
rattling  exclamations,  again  perplexed 
Sir  Jaspar  ;  for  how  could  Juliet  have 
been  apprized  of  his  intended  visit,  but 
by  himself? 

Sir  Lyell,  mingling  the  most  florid 
compliments  upon  her  radiant  beauty, 
and  bright  bloom,  with  his  pleasure  at 
Jher  sight,  said  that,  from  the  reports 
v,^hich  had  reached  him,  that  she  had 
given  up  her  singing,  and  her  teach- 
ing, and  that  Sir  Jaspar  had  taken  the 
room  which  she  had  inhabited,  he  had 
concluded  that  she  had  quitted  Bright- 
helmstone.  He  was  going  rapidly  on 
in  the  same  strain,  the  observant  Sir 
Jaspar  intently  watching  her  looks,  while 
curiously  listening  to  his  every  word; 
when  Juliet,  without  seeming  to  have 
attended  to  a  syllable,  related,  with  grave 
brevity,  that  she  had  unfortunately  shut  in 
the  key  of  her  room,  and  must  therefore 
seek  Miss  Matson,  to  demand  another  ; 
and  then,  with  steady  steps,  that  studi- 

VOL.  III.  H 


(     146     ) 

ously  kept  in  order  innumerable  timid 
fears,  she  descended  to  the  shop  ;  leav- 
ing  the  two  Baronets  mutually  struck  by 
her  superiour  air  and  manner ;  and  each, 
though  equally  desirous  to  follow  her, 
involuntarily  standing  still,  to  wait  the 
motions  of  the  other ;  and  thence  to 
judge  of  his  pretensions  to  her  favour. 

Juliet  found  the  shop  empty,  but  the 
street-door  open,  and  the  shop-man  saun- 
tering before  it,  to  look  at  the  passers 
by.  Glad  to  be,  for  a  while,  at  least, 
spared  the  distaste  of  his  company,  she 
shut  herself  into  the  little  parlour,  care- 
fully drawing  the  curtain  of  the  glass- 
door. 

The  two  Baronets,  as  she  ex- 
pected, soon  descended  5  the  younger 
one  eager  to  take  leave  of  the  elder, 
and  privately  remount  the  stairs  ;  and 
Sir  Jaspar,  fixed  to  obey  the  injunctions, 
however  unaccountable,  of  Juliet,  in 
detaining  and  keeping  sight  of  him  to 
the  last  moment. 

"  Decamped,  I  swear,  the  little 
vixen  !"  exclaimed  Sir  Lyell,  striding  in 


C     H7     ) 

first ;  "  but  why  the  d — 1  do  you  come 
down,  Sir  Jaspar  ?" 

"  For  exercise,  not  ceremony,"  he 
answered  ;  though,  little  wanting  further 
exertion,  and  heartily  tired,  he  dropt 
down  upon  the  first  chair. 

Sir  Lyell  vainly  offered  his  arm,  and 
pressed  to  aid  him  back  to  his  apart- 
ment ;  he  would  not  move. 

After  some  time  thus  wasted.  Sir 
Lyell,  mortified  and  provoked,  cast  him- 
self upon  the  counter,  and  whistled,  to 
disguise  bis  ill  humour. 

A  pause  now  ensued,  which  Sir  Jaspar 
broke,  by  hesitatingly,  yet  with  earnest- 
ness, saying,  "  Sir  Lyell  Sycamore,  I 
am  not,  you  will  do  me  the  justice  to 
believe,  a  sour  old  fellow,  to  delight  in 
mischief;  a  surly  old  dog,  to  mar  the 
pleasures  of  which  I  cannot  partake  ;  if, 
therefore,  to  answer  what  I  mean  to  ask 
will  thwart  any  of  your  projects,  leave 
me  and  my  curiosity  in  the  lurch;  if 
not,  you  v/ill  sensibly  gratify  me,  by  a 
little    frank   communication,      I   don't 

H    1 


(     143     ) 

meddle  with  your  affair  with  Flora  ;  'tis 
a  blooming  little  wild  rose-bud,  but  of 
too  common  a  species  to  be  worth  ana- 
lysing. This  other  young  creature, 
however,  whose  wings  your  bird-lime 
seems  also  to  have  entangled  — " 

"  How  so?"  interrupted  Sir  Lyell, 
jumping  eagerly  from  the  counter, 
**  what  the  d — 1  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

**  Not  to  be  indiscreet,  I  promise 
you,"  answered  Sir  Jaspar ;  "  but  as  I 
see  the  interest  she  takes  in  you,  — " 

"  The  d — I  you  do?"  exclaimed  Sir 
Lyell,  in  an  accent  ©f  surprize,  yet  of 
transport. 

Sir  Jaspar  now,  ironically  smiling, 
said,  "  You  don't  know  it,  then,  Sir 
Lyell  ?  You  are  modest  ?  —  diffident  ? 
unconscious? — " 

"  My  dear  boy!"  cried  Sir  Lyell, 
riotously,  and  approaching  familiarly  to 
embrace  him,  "  what  a  devilish  kind 
office  I  shall  owe  you,  if  you  can  put 
any  good  notions  into  my  head  of  that 
delicious  girU"  ^  ^y<sl^fe 


(     H9     ) 

;  New  doubts  nqw  destroying  his  recent 
suspicions,  Sir  Jaspar  held  back,  posi- 
tively refusing  to  clear  up  what  had 
drQpt  from  him,  and  laughingly  saying, 
giJlar  be  it  from  me  to  put  any  such 
notions  into  your  head!  I  believe  it 
aimply  stored !  All  my  desire  is  to  get 
SQme  out  of  it.  If,  therefore,  you  can 
tell  me,  or,  rather,  will  tell  me,  v;ho  or 
what  this  young  creature  is,  you  will  do 
a  kind  office  to  my  imagination,  for 
which  I  shall  be  really  thankful.  Who 
l^;-she,  then  ?  And  what  is  she  ?" 

,  <«  D — 1  take  me  if  I  either  know  or 
care !"  cried  Sir  Lyell,  "  further  than 
that  she  is  a  beauty  of  the  first  water  ; 
and  that  I  should  have  adored  her,  ex- 
clusively, three  months  ago,  if  I  had  not 
believed  her  a  thing  of  alabaster.     But 

if  you  think  her Vj^j    ^; 

"  Not  II  not  I !  —  I  know  nothing  of 
her!"  interrupted  Sir  Jaspar:  "  she  is  a 
rose  planted  in  the  snow,  for  aught  I 
caa  tell !  The  more  I  see,  the  less  I  un- 
derstand j  the  more  I  surmize,  the  fur- 

H  3 


C   150   ) 

ther  I  seem  from  the  mark.  Honestly, 
then,  whence  does  she  come  ?  How  did 
you  first  see  her  ?  What  does  she  do  at 
Brighthelmstone  ?" 

"  3/lay  I  go  to  old  Nick  if  I  am  better 
informed  than  yourself!    except  that  she 
sings  and  plays  like  twenty  angels,  and 
that  all  the  women  are  jealous  of  her, 
and  won't  suffer  a  word  to  be  said  to 
her.     However,  I  made  up   to  her,  at 
first,  and   should   certainly  have  found 
her  out,  but  for  Melbury,  who  annoyed 
me  with  a  long  history  of  her  virtue, 
and  character,  and  Lady  Aurora's  friend- 
ship,   and  the  d— I  knows  what;    that 
made  me  so  cursed  sheepish,  I  was  afraid 
of  embarking  in  any  measures  of  spirit. 
My  sister,  also,  took  lessons  of  her  ;  and 
other  game   came   into   chace ;    and  I 
should  never  have  thought  of  her  again, 
but  that,  when  I  went  to  town,  a  week 
or  tw6  ago,  I  learnt,  from  that   Queen 
He  the  Grabs,  Mrs.  Howel,  that  Melbury, 
^ii  factl  ktibw^  ¥10  more  of  her  than  we 
do.     He  had  nobody's  word  but  her  own 


(     15'     ) 

for' all  her  fine  sentiments;  so  that  he 
and  his  platonics  would  have  kept  me  at 
bay  no  longer,  if  I  had  not  believed  her 
decamped  from  Brighthelmstone,  upon 
hearing  that  you  had  got  her  lodging. 
How  came  you  to  turn  her  into  the 
garret,  my  dear  boy  ?  Is  that  a  la  mode 
of  your  vieille  cour  F'' 

Sir  Jaspar  protested  that,  when  he 
took  the  apartment,  he  knew  not  of  her 
existence  ;  and  then  enquired,  whether 
Sir  Lyell  could  tell  in  what  name  she  had 
been  upon  the  stage  j  and  why  she  had 
quitted  it. 

"  The  stage  ?  O  the  d— 1 !"  he  ex- 
claimed,  "  has  she  been  upon  the  stage ?^' 

"  Yes ;  I  heard  the  fact  mentioned 
to  her,  the  other  day,  by  a  fellow-per- 
former!  some  low  player,  who  challenged 
her  as  a  sister  of  the  buskins.'* 

"  What  a  glorious  Statira  she  must 
make  !"  cried  Sir  Lyell.  "  I  am  ready 
to  be  her  Alexander  when  she  will. 
That  hint  you  have  dropt,  my  dear  old 
boy,  shu'n't  be  thrown  away  upon  me. 

H   4 


Hut  how  the  a— -I  dia  you  find  inre  dear 
charmer  out  ?  ,  .  ,    . 

'  -l5If  jaspar  again  sought  to  draw  back 
h%  information;  but  Sir  Lv ell  swore 
that  he  Would  not  so  lightly  be  put  asr3(| 
n'bW-a  view  of  Success,  now  once  it  wa$ 
fairly  opened  j  and*  was  vowing  that  he 
should  begiri"  a  siege  .in  ^orih,  arid  'per- 
severe to  a  surrender- "when  the  conveK 
sation  v.^as  interrupted,  by  the  entrance 
of  the  shopman,  accompanied  by  a 
mantua-maker,  wfi'o  called  upon  some 
business.  "."^ 

^Juliet,  who,  from  the  beginning,  had 
heard  this  discourse  with  the  utmost  un- 
easiness, and  whom  its  conclusion  hacl 
filled  with  indignant  disgust  -,  had  no 
resource  to  avoid  the  yet  greater  evil  of 
being  joined  by  the  interlocutors,  but 
that  of  sitting  motionless  and  unsus- 
pected, till  they  should  depart;  or  till 
Miss  Matson  should  return.  But  her 
care  and  precaution  proved  vain  :  the 
shopman  invited  Mrs.  Hart,  the  mantua- 
maker,  into  the  little  parlour;  and,  upon 

7 


(     153    ) 

opening  the  door,  Juliet  met  their  asto* 
nished  view. 

Sir  Jaspar,  not  without  evident  anxiety, 
endeavoured  to  recollect  what  had  dropt 
from  him,  that  might  hurt  her  ;  or  how 
he  might  palliate  what  might  have  givea 
her  offence.  But  Sir  Lyell,  not  at  all 
disconcerted,  and  privately  persuaded 
that  half  his  difficulties  were  vanquished, 
by  the  accident  that  acquainted  her  with 
his  design;  was  advancing,  eagerly,  with 
a  volley  of  rapid  compliments,  upon  his 
good  fortune  in  again  meeting  with  her; 
when  Juliet,  not  deigning  to  seem  con- 
scious even  of  his  presence,  passed  him. 
without  notice ;  and^  addressing  Mrs. 
Hart,  entreated  that  she  would  go  up 
stairs  to  the  room  of  Miss  Pierson,  to  ex- 
amine whether  it  were  necessary  to  send 
for  any  advice ;  as  she  had  returned 
home  alone,  and  complained  of  being 
ilL  '''Mrs.  Hart  complied  ;  and  Juliet 
followed  her  to  Flora's  chamber-door* 

>1  ifiu '^ib:tii  6dt  oiai  ^i^^li^rn 


(     '54    ) 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

nPHE  gentle  tap  that  Mrs.  Hart,  fearing 
to  disturb  iier,  gave  at  the  door  of 
Flora,  deceived  the  expecting  girl  into  a 
belief  that  Sir  Lyell  was  at  length 
arrived  ;  and  crying,  in  a  low  voice,  as 
she  opened  it,  "  O  Sir!  how  long  you 
have  been  coming !"  she  stared  at  sight 
of  Mrs.  Hart,  with  an  amazement  equal 
to  her  disappointment. 

Presently,  however,  with  a  dejected 
look  and  tone,  "  Well,  now  !*'  she  cried, 
*'  is  it  only  you,  Mrs.  Hart  ?  —  I  thought 
it  had  been  somebody  quite  diiferent !"  ' 

Mrs.  Hart,  entering,  enquired,  with 
surprize,  why  Miss  Ellis  had  said  that 
Miss  Pierson  was  ill,  when,  on  the  con- 
trary, she  had  never  seen  her  look 
better. 

«  Well,  now,  Miss  Ellis,"  cried  Flora, 
whispering  Juliet,  "  did  not  I  tell  you. 


(     155    ) 

as  plain  as  could  be,  'twas  nothing  but 
make  believe  ?'* 

Juliet,  without  offering  any  apology, 
answered,  that  she  had  invited  Mrs.  Hart 
to  make  her  a  visit. 

"  Why,  now,  what  can  you  be  thinking 
of?'*  cried  Flora,  angrily  :  "  Why,  you 
know,  as  well  as  can  be,  that  I  want  to  see 
nobody  !  Why,  have  you  forgot  all  I  told 
you,  already,  about  you  know  who  ? 
Why  I  never  knew  the  like !  Why  be'll 
be  fit  to  kill  himself!  Pll  never  tell  you 
any  thing  again,  if  you  beg  me  on  your 
knees  !  so  there's  the  end  to  your  know- 
ing any  more  of  my  secrets  !  and  you've 
nobody  but  yourself  to  thank,  if  it  vexes 
you  never  so !" 

Mrs.  Hart  interrupted  this  mur- 
muring, by  enquiring  who  was  the  Sir 
that  Miss  Pierson  expected  5  adding 
that,  if  it  were  the  shop-man,  it  would 
be  more  proper  Miss  Pierson  should  go 
down  stairs,  than  that  she  should  let  him 
come  up  to  her  room. 

"  The  shop-man  ?"  repeated  Flora, 
H  6 


mmpering,  and  winking  at  Juliet ;  "  no, 
indeed,  Mrs^  Hart  j  you  have  not  made 
a  ve'ry  good  guess  there !  Has  she.  Miss 
Ellis  ?  I  don't  think  a  man  of  quality, 
and  a  baronet,  is  very  like  a  shop-man  I 
Do  you.  Miss  Ellis  V 

This  blundering  simplicity  of  vanity 
was  not  lost  upon  Mrs.  Hart,  "  O  ho !" 
she  cried,  "  you  expect  a  baronet,  do 
you,  then,  Miss  Pierson  ?  Why  there 
were  no  less  than  two  Baronets  in  the 
shop  as  I  came  through,  just  now  j  and 
there's  one  of  them  this  minute  crossing 
the  way,  and  turning  the  corner.'* 

*«  O  Me  !  is  he  gone,  then  ?"  cried 
Fiora,  looking  out  of  the  window.  "  O 
Mel  what  shall  I  do?  O  Miss  Ellis  !  this 
is  all  your  fault!  And  now,  perhaps, 
he'll  be  so  angry  he'll  never  speak  to  me 
ap-ain  1  And  if  he  don't,  ten  to  one  but 
it  may  break  my  heart!  for  that  o-ften 
happens  when  one's  crossed  in  love. 
And  if  it  does,  I  sha'n't  thank  you  for  it, 
I  assure  you  !  And  it's  just  as  hkely  as 
not  I" 


^Dfjaliet^  "ihbngh  she^soiight  to  kppea'^ 
tfoth: her: grief  and  herwtathj  couid  ndt 
but  rejoice  that  their  tui^oaided  re- 
dundance  inforraed  Mrs,  Hart  of  thfe 
whole  history :  and  Mr:S.  Hart,  who, 
though  a  plain,  appeared  to  be.  a  vej^ 
worthy  woman,  immediately  endeavoured 
to  save  the  poor  young  creature,  from  the 
snares  into  which  she  was  rather  wilfully 
jumping,  than  deludedly  falling,  by 
giving  her  a  pressing  invitation  to  her 
own  house  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  But 
to  this,  neither  entreaty  nor  reproof 
could  obtain  consent.  Flora,  hke  many 
who  seem  gentle,  was  only  simple- j  and 
had  neither  docility  nor  comprehension 
for  being  turned  aside  from  the  prosecu- 
tion of  her  wishes.  To  be  thwarted 
in  any  desire,  she  considered  as  cruelty, 
and  resented  as  ill  treatment.  She  re- 
fused,  therefore,  to  leave  the  house, 
while  hoping  for  the  return  of  Sir  Lyell; 
and  continued  her  childish  v/ailing  and 
iretting,  till  accident  led  her  eyes  to 
a  favourite  little  box  5  when,  her  tears 


(     »58     ) 

suddenly  stopping,  and  her  face  brighten- 
ing,  she  started  up,  seized,  opened  it, 
and,  displaying  a  very  pretty  pair  of 
ear-rings,  exclaimed,  "Oh,  I  have  never 
shewn  you  my  presents,  Miss  Ellis ! 
And  now  Mrs.  Hart  may  have  a  peep  at 
them,  too.  So  she's  in  pretty  good  luck, 
I  think!" 

And  then,  with  exulting  pleasure,  she 
produced  all  the  costly  trinkets  that 
she  had  received  from  Sir  Lyell ;  with 
some  few,  less  valuable,  which  had  been 
presented  to  her  by  Sir  Jaspar ;  and  all 
the  baubles,  however  insignificant  or 
babyish,  that  had  been  bestowed  upon 
her  by  her  friends  and  relatives,  from 
ber  earliest  youth.  And  these,  with  the 
important  and  separate  history  of  each, 
occupied,  unawares,  her  time,  till  the 
return  of  Miss  Matson. 

Mrs.  Hart  then  descended,  and,  urged 
by  Juliet,  briefly  and  plainly  communi- 
cated the  situation  and  the  danger  of 
the  young  apprentice. 

Miss  Matson,  affrighted  for  the  credit 


(     159     ) 

of  her  shop,  determined  to  send  for  the 
mother  of  Flora,  who  resided  at  Lewes, 
the  next  day. 

Relieved  now  from  her  troublesome 
and  untoward  charge,  JuHet  had  her 
door  opened,  and  re-took  possession  of 
her  room. 

And  there,  a  new  view  of  her  own 
helpless  and  distressed  condition,  filled 
and  dejected  her  with  new  alarm.  The 
licentiously  declared  purpose  of  Sir 
Lyell  had  been  shocking  to  her  ears ; 
and  the  consciousness  that  he  knew  that 
she  was  informed  of  his  intention  added 
to  its  horrour,  from  her  inability  to  shew 
her  resentment,  in  the  only  way  that 
suited  her  character  or  her  disposition, 
that  of  positively  seeing  him  no  more. 
But  how  avoid  him  while  she  had  no 
other  means  of  subsistence  than  working 
in  an  open  shop  ? 

The  following  morning  but  too  clearly 
justified  her  apprehensive  prognostics,  of 
the  improprieties  to  which  her  defence- 
less state  made  her  liable.     At  an  early 


(      i6o     ) 

hour,  Sir  Lyell,  gay,  courteous,  gallant, 
entered  the  shop,  under  pretence  of 
enquiring  for  Sir  Jaspar ;  whom  ^e^ 
knew  to  be  invisible,  from  his  infirmi-^ 
ties, to  all  but  his  own  nurses  and  servants, 
till  noon.  Miss  Matson  was  taciturn 
and  watchful,  though  still,  from  the  fear 
of  making  an  enemy,  respectful ;  while 
Flora,  simpering  and  blushing,  was 
ready  to  jump  into  his  arms,  in  her 
eagerness  to  apologize  for  not  having 
waited  alone  for  him,  according  to  his 
directions :  but  he  did  not  look  at  Miss 
Matson,  though  he  addressed  her;  nor 
address  Flora,  though,  by  a  side  glance, 
he  saw  her  expectations  ;  his  attention, 
from  the  moment  that  he  had  asked,  with- 
out listening  to  any  answer,  whether  he 
could  see  Sir  Jaspar,  was  all,  and  even 
publicly  devoted  to  Juliet ; .  whom  ^le 
approached  with  an  air  of  homage,  and 
accosted  with  the  most  flattering  com-^ 
pliments  upon  her  good  looks  arid  her 
beauty.  ..    ,     .-....,.; 

..A^.iiMet  Uir^ed  a^ide  from^  him^,  wth.an 


"S 


C     i6i     ) 

iodignatit  disgust,  in  which  she  ho'petf  fe- 
would    read     her    resentment    of '  hW 
scheme,  and  her  abhorrence  of  his  prirfi^ 
erples.     But  those  who  are  deep  in  vice^ 
are    commonly   incredulous    of   virtue;^ 
Sir  Ly  el  I  took  her  apparent  displeasure^"^ 
either  for  a  timidity  which  flattery  would 
banish,  or  an  hypocrisy  which  boldness 
would  conquer.     He  continued,  there- 
'fore,  his  florid  adulation  to  her  charms  ; 
regarding     the    heightened    colour     of 
offended   purity,   but  as  an  augmented 
attraction. 

Juliet  perceived  her  failure  to  repress 
his  assurance,  with  a  disturbance  that  was 
soon  encreased,  by  the  visible  jealousy 
manifested  in  the  pouting  lips  and 
frowning  brow  of  Flora  ;  who,  the  mo- 
ment that  Sir  Lyell,  saying  that  he  would 
call  upon  Sir  Jaspar  again,  thought  it 
prudent  to  retire,  began  a  convulsive 
sobbing;  averring  that  she  saw  why  she 
had  been  betrayed  ;  for  that  it  Was  only 
to  inveigle  av/ay  her  sweetheart. 

Pity  for  the  ignorant  accuser,  might 


(     i62     ) 

have  subdued  the  disdain  due  to  the 
accusation,  and  have  induced  Juliet  to 
comfort  her  by  a  self-defence ;  but  for  a 
look,  strongly  expressing  a  suspicion  to 
the  same  effect,  from  Miss  Matson ; 
which  was  succeeded  by  a  general  toss- 
ing up  of  the  chins  of  the  young  work- 
women, and  a  murmur  of,  "  I  wonder 
how  she  would  like  to  be  served  so  her- 
self!'* 

This  was  too  offensive  to  be  supported, 
and  she  retired  to  her  chamber. 

If,  already,  the  mingled  frivolity  and 
publicity  of  the  business  into  which  she 
had  entered,  had  proved  fatiguing  to 
her  spirits,  and  ungenial  to  her  disposi- 
tion ;  surmises,  such  sts  she  now  saw 
raised,  of  a  petty  and  base  rivality,  urged 
by  a  pursuit  the  most  hcentious,  ren- 
dered all  attempt  at  its  continuance  in- 
tolerable.  Without,  therefore,  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation,  she  determined  to  re- 
linquish her  present  enterprise. 
■,:.>Tiie  only,  as  well  as  immediate  notion 
th'at  occurred  to  her,  in  this  new  difH- 


(     «fi3     ) 

culty,  was  to  apply  to  Mrs.  Hart,  who 
seemed  kind  as  well  as  civil,  for  em^ 
ployraent. 

When  she  was  summoned,  therefore, 
by  Miss  Matson,  with  surprize  and  au- 
thority, back  to  the  shop,  she  returned 
equipped  for  going  abroad  ;  and,  after 
thanking  her  for  the  essay  which  she 
had  permitted  to  be  made  in  the  milli- 
nery-business, declared  that  she  found 
herself  utterly  unfit  for  so  active  and  so 
public  a  line  of  life. 

■  Leaving  then  Miss  Matson,  Flora,  and 
the  young  journey-women  to  their  as- 
tonishment, she  bent  her  course  to  the 
house  of  Mrs.  Hart ;  where  her  applica- 
tion was  happily  successful.  Mrs.  Hart 
had  work  of  importance  just  ordered  for 
a  great  wedding  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  was  glad  to  engage  so  expert  a 
hand  for  the  occasion  ;  agreeing  to 
allow,  in  return,  bed,  board,  and  a  small 
stipend  per  day. 

With  infinite  relief,  Juliet  went  back 
to  make  her  little  preparations,  and  take 


(     164    > 

leave  of  Miss  Matson;  by  wBoAi  slie  wai; 
now  followed  to  her  room,  with  many 
earnest  instances  that  she  would  relin^ 
quish  her  design.  Miss  Matson,  in 
unison  with  the  very  common  ^hariacter* 
to  which  she  belonged,  had  appreciated 
Juliet  not  by  her  worth,  her  talents,  or 
her  labours,  but  by  her  avowed  distress^ 
and  acknowledged  poverty.  Notwith- 
standing, therefore,  her  abilities  and 
her  industry,  she  had  been  uniformly 
considered  as  a  dead  weight  te'  th€f 
business,  and  to  the  house.  But  lieiWi 
when  it  appeared  that  the  penny  less 
young  woman  had  some  other  resource, 
the  eyes  of  Miss  Matson  were  suddenly 
opened  to  merits  to  which  she  had  hi- 
therto been  blind.  She  felt  all  the  advani^ 
tages  which  the  shop  would  lose  by  the 
departure  of  such  an  assistant^  and  recol- 
lected the  many  useful  hints,  in  fashion 
and  in  elegance,  which  had  been  derived 
from  her  taste  and  fancy  :  her  exemplary 
diligence  in  work  ;  her  gentle  quietness 
of  behaviour;  and  the  numberless  custom- 


(    i65    ) 

ers,  which  the  various  reports^  that  were 
spreskd  of  her  history,  had  drawn  to  the 
shop.  AU^^now,  however,  was  unavaiHng ; 
the  remembrance  of  what  was  over  oc- 
curred too  late  to  change  the  plan  of  Ju- 
liet ;  though  a  kinder  appreciation  of  her 
character  and  services,  while  she  was 
employed,  might  have  engaged  her  to 
try  some  other  method  of  getting  rid 
of  the  libertine  Baronet. 

Miss  Matson  then  admonished  her  not 
to  lose,  at  least,  the  benefit  of  her  pre- 
mium. 

**  Wliat  premium  ?"  cried  Juliet. 

"  Why  that  Sir  Jaspar  paid  down  for 
you.** 

Juliet,  astonished,  now  learnt,  that 
her  admission  as  an  inmate  of  the  shop, 
which  she  had  imagined  due  to  the  gos- 
sipping  verbal  influence  of  Miss  Bydel, 
w^as  the  result  of  the  far  more  substantial 
money-mediation  of  Sir  Jaspar« 

She  felt  warmly  grateful  for  his  bene- 
volence J  yet  wounded,  in  reflecting 
upon  his  doubts  whether  she  deserved 


(     i66     ) 

it ;  and  confounded  to  owe  another, 
and  so  heavy  an  obb'gation,  to  an  utter 
{Stranger. 

She  was  finishing  her  httle  package, 
when  the  loud  sobbings  of  Flora,  while 
mounting  the  stairs  for  a  similar,  though 
by  no  means  as  voluntary  a  purpose,  in- 
duced her  to  go  forth,  with  a  view  to 
offer  some  consolation  ;  but  Flora,  not 
less  resentful  than  disconsolate,^ said  that 
her  mother  was  arrived  to  take  her  from 
all  her  fine  prospects  ;  and  loaded  Juliet 
wdth  the  unqualified  accusation,  of  hav- 
ing betrayed  her  secrets,  and  ruined  her 
fortune. 

Juliet  had  too  strong  a  mind  to  suffer 
weak  and  unjust  censure  to  breed  any 
repentance  that  she  had  acted  right. 
She  could  take  one  view  only  of  the 
affair;  and  that  brought  only  self-approv- 
ance  of  what  she  had  done  :  if  Sir  Lyell 
meant  honourably.  Flora  was  easily  fol- 
lowed ;  if  not,  she  was  happily  rescued 
from  earthly  perdition. 

Nevertheless,  she  had  too  much  sweet- 


t  167  ) 

iiess  of  disposition,  and  too  much  bene- 
volence of  character,  to  be  indifferent  to 
reproach ;  though  her  vain  efforts, 
either  to  clear  her  own  conduct,  or  to 
appease  the  angry  sorrows  of  Flora,  all 
ended  by  the  indignantly  blubbering 
damsel's  turning  from  her  in  sulky 
silence. 

Juliet  then  took  a  quick  leave  of  Miss 
Matson,  and  of  the  young  journey* 
women ;  and  repaired  to  her  new  habi- 
tation. 


(      i68     ) 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

"pXPERIENCE,  the  mother  of  cau- 
;  tion,  now  taught  Juhet  explicitly  to 
make  known  to  her  new  chief,  that 
she  had  no  view  to  learn  the  art  of 
mantua-making  as  a  future  trade,  or 
employment;  but  simply  desired  to 
work  at  it  in  such  details,  as  a  general 
knowledge  of  the  use  of  the  needle 
might  make  serviceable  and  expeditious: 
no  premium,  therefore,  could  be  ex- 
pected by  th€  mistress ;  and  tine  work- 
woman would  be  at  liberty  to  continue, 
or  to  renounce  her  engagement,  from 
day  to  day. 

This  agr^em^ent  offered  to  her  ideas 
something  which  seemed  like  an  ap- 
proach to  the  self-dependence,  that  she 
had  so  earnestly  coveted  :  she  entered, 
therefore,  upon  her  new  occupation 
with  cheerfulness  and  alacrity,  and  with 


(     i69    ) 

a  diligence  to  which  the  hope,  by  being 
useful,  to  become  necessary,  gave  no 
relaxation. 

The  business,  by  this  scrupulous  de- 
votion to  its  interests,  was  forwarded 
with  such  industry  and  success,  that  she 
soon  became  the  open  and  decided 
favourite  of  the  mistress  whom  she 
served ;  and  w^ho  repaid  her  exertions 
by  the  warmest  praise,  and  proposed  her 
as  a  pattern  to  the  rest  of  the  sewing 
sisterhood. 

*  This  approbation  could  not  but  cheer 
the  toil  of  one  whose  mind,  like  that  of 
Juliet,  sought  happiness,  at  this  moment, 
only  from  upright  and  blameless  con- 
duct. She  was  mentally,  also,  relieved, 
by  the  local  change  of  situation.  She 
was  now  employed  in  a  private  apart- 
ment ;  and,  though  surrounded  by  still 
more  fellow-work-women  than  at  Miss 
Matson's,  she  was  no  longer  constrained 
to  remain  in  an  open  shop,  in  opposition 
alike  to  her  inclinations  and  her  wishes 
of  concealment  5    no  longer  startled  by 

VOL.  III.  1 


(     I70    ) 

the  continual  entrance  and  exit  of 
strangers ;  nor  exposed  to  curious  en- 
quirers, or  hardy  starers  ;  and  no  longer 
fatigued  by  the  perpetual  revision  of 
goods.  She  worked  in  perfect  quietness, 
undisturbed  and  uninterrupted;  her 
mistress  was  civil,  and  gave  her  encou- 
ragement ;  her  fellow-semptresses  Were 
unobservant,  and  left  her  to  her  own 
reflexions. 

It  is  not,  however,  in  courts  alone 
that  favour  is  perilous  -,  in  all  circles,  and 
all  classes,  from  the  most  eminent  to  the 
most  obscure,  the  "  Favourite  has  no 
friend  *  1"  The  praises  and  the  com- 
parisons, by  which  Mrs.  Hart  hoped  to 
stimulate  her  little  community  to  emula- 
tion, excited  only  jealousy,  envy,  and 
ill  will ;  and  a  week  had  not  elapsed,  in 
this  new  and  short  tranquillity,  before 
Juhet  found  that  her  superiour  diligence 
was  regarded,  by  her  needle-sisterhood, 
as  a  mean  artifice  "  to  set  herself  off  to 
advantage  at  their  cost."     Sneers   and 

*  Gray. 


(     171     ) 

hints  to  this  effect  followed  every 
panegyric  of  Mrs.  Hart  ;  and  robbed 
approbation  of  its  pleasure,  though  they 
could  not  of  its  value. 

Chagrined  by  a  consequence  so  unplea- 
sant, to  an  industry  that  demanded  forti- 
tude, not  discouragement  ^  Juliet  nowfelt 
the  excess  of  her  activity  relax  ;  and  soon 
experienced  a  desire,  if  not  a  necessity, 
to  steal  some  moments  from  application, 
for  retirement  and  for  herself. 

Here,  again,  she  found  the  mischief 
to  which  ignorance  of  life  had  laid  her 
open.  The  unremitting  diligence  with 
which  she  had  begun  her  new  office,  had 
advanced  her  work  with  a  rapidity,  that 
made  the  smallest  relaxation  cause  a 
sensible  difference  in  its  progress :  and 
Mrs.  Hart,  from  first  looking  disap- 
pointed, asked  next,  whether  nothing 
more  were  done  ?  and  then  observed, 
how  much  quicker  business  had  gone  cx\ 
the  first  week.  In  vain  Juliet  still  exe- 
cuted more  than  all  around  herj  the 
comparison  was  never  made  there,  where 

I    2 


C    ^72    ) 

it  might  have  been  to  her  advantage; 
all  reference  was  to  her  own  setting  out; 
and  she  was  soon  taught  to  forgive  the 
displeasure  which,  so  inadvertently,  she 
had  excited,  when  she  saw  the  claims  to 
which  she  had  made  herself  liable,  by 
an  incautious  eagerness  of  zeal  to  re- 
ward, as  well  as  earn,  the  maintenance 
which   she   owed   to  Mrs.  Hart. 

Alas,  she  thought,  with  what  upright 
intentions  may  we  be  injudicious  !  I 
have  thrown  away  the  power  of  obliging, 
by  too  precipitate  an  eagerness  to  oblige ! 
I  retain  merely  that  of  avoiding  to  dis- 
please, by  my  most  indefatigable  appli- 
cation 1  All  I  can  perform  seems  but 
a  duty,  and  of  course  ;  all  I  leave  un- 
done, seems  idleness  and  neglect.  Yet 
what  is  the  labour  that  never  requires 
respite  ?  What  the  mind,  that  never 
demands  a  few  poor  unshackled  instants 
to  itself? 

From  this  time,  the  little  pleasure 
which  she  had  been  able  to  create  for 
herself,  from  the  virtue  of  her  exertions, 


(     173    ) 

was  at  an  end :  to  toil  beyond  her 
fellow-labourers,  was  but  to  provoke  ill 
will ;  to  allow  herself  any  repose,  was 
but  to  excite  disapprobation.  Hopeless, 
therefore,  either  way,  she  gave,  with 
diligence,  her  allotted  time  to  her  occu- 
pation, but  no  more  :  all  that  remained, 
she  solaced,  by  devoting  to  her  pen  and 
Gabriella,  with  whom  her  correspond- 
ence, —  her  sole  consolation,  —  was  un- 
remitting. 

This  unaiFected  conduct  had  its 
customary  effect ;  it  destroyed  at  once 
the  too  hardly  earned  favour  of  Mrs. 
Hart,  and  the  illiberal,  yet  too  natural 
enmity  of  her  apprentices  j  and,  in  the 
course  of  a  very  few  days,  Juliet  was 
neither  more  esteemed,  nor  more  cen- 
sured, than  any  of  her  sisters  of  the 
sewing  tribe. 

With  the  energy,  however,  of  her 
original  wishes  and  efforts,  died  all  that 
could  reconcile  her  to  this  sort  of  life. 
The  hope  of  pleasing,  which  alone  could 
soften   its   hardships,   thus  forcibly  set 

J  3 


(     >74     ) 

aside,  left  nothing  in  its  place,  but 
calmness  without  contentment ;  dulness 
without  serenity. 

Experience  is  not  more  exclusively  the 
guide  of  our  judgment,  than  comparison 
is  the  mistress  of  our  feelings.  Juliet 
now,  also,  found,  that,  local  publicity 
excepted,  there  was  nothing  to  prefer  in 
her  new  to  her  former  situation ;  and 
something  to  like  less.  The  employ- 
ment itself  was  by  no  means  equally 
agreeable  for  its  disciples.  The  taste 
and  fancy,  requisite  for  the  elegance  and 
variety  of  the  light  work  which  she  had 
quitted ;  however  ineffectual  to  afford 
pleasure  when  called  forth  by  necessity, 
rendered  it,  at  least,  less  irksome,  than  the 
wearying  sameness  of  perpetual  basting, 
running,  and  hemming.  Her  fellow-la- 
bourers, though  less  pert  and  less  obtru- 
sive than  those  which  she  had  left,  had 
the  same  spirit  for  secret  cabal,  and  the 
same  passion  for  frolic  and  disguise ; 
and  also,  like  those,  were  all  prattle  and 
confidential  sociability,  in  the  absence  of 


(     ^75    ) 

the  mistress;  all  sulknness  and  taci- 
turnity, in  her  presence.  What  little 
difference,  therefore,  she  found  in  her 
position,  was,  that  there  she  had  been 
disgusted  by  under-bred  flippancy  ; 
here,  she  was  deadened  by  uninterest- 
ing monotony  ;  and  that  there,  perpetual 
motion,  and  incessant  change  of  orders, 
and  of  objects,  affected  her  nerves ; 
while  here,  the  unvarying  repetition  of 
stitch  after  stitch,  nearly  closed  in  sleep 
her  faculties,  as  well  as  her  eyes. 

The  little  stipend  which,  by  agree- 
ment, she  was  paid  every  evening, 
though  it  occasioned  her  the  most  satis- 
factory, by  no  means  gave  her  the  most 
pleasant  feeling,  of  the  day.  However 
respectable  reason  and  justice  render 
pecuniary  emolument,  where  honourably 
earned;  there  is  a  something  indefinable, 
which  stands  between  spirit  and  delicacy, 
that  makes  the  first  reception  of  money 
in  detail,  by  those  not  brought  up  to 
gain  it,  embarrassing  and  painful. 

During  this  tedious  and  unvaried 
I  4 


period;  if  some  minutes  Were' sriafched 
from  fatiguing  uniformity,  it  was  only 
by  alarm  and  displeasure,  through  the 
intrusion  of  Sir  Lyell  Sycamore  ;  who, 
though  always  denied  admission  to  her- 
self,  made  frequent,  bold,  and  frivolous 
pretences  tor  bursting   into   the    work- 
room.    At  one  time,  he  came  to  enquire 
about  a  gown  for  his  sister,  of  which 
Mrs.  Hart  had  never  heard  ;  at  another, 
to  look  at  a  trimming  for  which  she  had 
had  no  commission ;  and  at  a  third,  to 
hurry  the  finishing  of  a  dress,  which  had 
already  been  sent  home.     The  motive  to 
these    various  mock  messages,  was  too 
palpable  to  escape  even  the  most  ordinary 
observation  5    yet    though    the   perfect 
conduct,   and    icy   coldness    of   Juliet, 
rescued    her   from   all   evil    imputation 
amongst  her  companions,  she  saw,  with 
pique  and  even  horrour,  that  they  were 
insufficient  to   repress   the   daring   and 
determined   hopes  and   expectations  of 
the  licentious  Baronet  5  with  whom  the 
unexplained  hint  of  Sir  Jaspar  had  left 


(     177    ) 

a  firm  persuasion,  that  the  fair  object  :of 
his  views  more  than  returned  his  admi- 
ration ;  and  waited  merely  for  a  decent 
attack,  or  proper  offers,  to  acknowledge 
her  secret  inclinations. 

Juliet,  however  shocked,  could  only 
commit  to  time  her  cause,  her  consist- 
ency, her  vindication. 

Three  weeks  had,  in  this  manner, 
elapsed,  when  the  particular  business  for 
which  Mrs.  Hart  had  wanted  an  odd 
hand  was  finished  ;  and  Juliet,  who  had 
beheved  that  her  useful  services  would 
keep  her  employed  at  her  own  pleasure, 
abruptly  found  that  her  occupation  was 
at  an  end.  ^ 

Here  again,  the  wisdom  of  experience 
v;as  acquired  only  by  distress.  The 
pleasure  with  which  she  had  considered 
herself  free,  because  engaged  but  by  the 
day,  was  changed  into  the  alarm  of  find- 
ing  herself,  from  that  very  circumstance, 
without  employment  or  home  ;  and  she 
now  acknowledged  the  providence  of 
those  ties,  which,  from  only  feeling  their 
I  5 


(     '78     ) 

inconvenience,  she  had  thought  oppres- 
sive and  unnecessary.  The  established 
combinations  of  society  are  not  to  be 
judged  by  the  personal  opinions,  and 
varying  feelings,  of  individuals  ;  but  by 
general  proofs  of  reciprocated  advan- 
tages. If  the  needy  helper  require 
regular  protection,  the  recompensing 
employer  must  claim  regular  service ; 
and  Juliet  now  saw,  that  though  in  being 
contracted  but  by  the  day,  she  escaped 
all  continued  constraint,  and  was  set 
freshly  at  liberty  every  evenings  she  was, 
a  stranger  to  security,  subject  to  dis- 
mission, at  the  mercy  of  accident,  and 
at  the  will  of  caprice. 

Thus  perplexed  and  thus  helpless,  she 
applied  to  Mrs.  Hart,  for  counsel  how 
to  obtain  immediate  support.  Gratified 
by  the  application,  Mrs.  Hart  again  re- 
commended her  as  a  pattern  to  the 
young  sisterhood;  and  then  gave  her 
advice,  that  she  should  bind  herself, 
either  to  some  milliner  or  some  mantua- 
maker,  as  a  journey-woman  for  three 
years. 


(     ^79     ) 

Painfully,  again,  Juliet  attained 
further  knowledge  of  the  world,  in 
learning  the  danger  of  asking  counsel ; 
except  of  the  candid  and  wise,  who 
know  how  to  modify  it  by  circumstances, 
and  w^ho  will  listen  to  opposing  repre- 
sentations. 

Mrs.  Hart,  from  the  moment  that 
Juliet  declined  to  be  guided  wholly  by 
her  judgment,  lost  all  interest  in  her 
young  w^ork-woman's  distresses.  "  If 
people  won't  follow  advice,"  she  said, 
*'  'tis  a  sign  they  are  not  much  to  be 
pitied."  Vainly  Juliet  affirmed,  that 
reasons  which  she  could  not  explain,  put 
it  out  of  her  power  to  take  any  measure 
so  decisive  ;  that,  far  from  fixing  her 
own  destiny  for  three  years,  she  had  no 
means  to  ascertain,  or  scarcely  even  to 
conjecture,  what  it  might  be  in  three 
days;  or  perhaps  in  three  hours;  al- 
though in  the  interval  of  suspense,  she 
was  not  less  an  object  for  present  huma- 
nity, from  the  incertitude  of  what  either 
her  wants  or  her  abundance  might  be  in 
I  6 


(     i8o     ) 

future;  vainly  she  reasoned,  vainly  she 
pleaded.  Mrs.  Hart  always  made  the 
same  reply :  "  If  people  won't  follow 
advice,  'tis  a  sign  they  are  not  much  to 
be  pitied." 

In  consequence  of  this  maxim,  Juliet 
next  heard,  that  the  small  room  and  bed 
which  she  occupied,  were  wanted  for 
another  person. 

Alas !  she  thought,  how  long  must  we 
mingle  with  the  world,  ere  we  learn  how 
to  live  in  it !  Must  we  demand  no  help 
from  the  understandings  of  others,  un- 
less we  submit  to  renounce  all  use  of  our 
own  ? 

These  reflexions  soon  led  her  to  hit 
upon  the  only  true  medium,  for  useful 
and  safe  general  intercourse  with  the 
mass  of  mankind :  that  of  avowing  em- 
barrassments,  without  demanding  coun- 
sel ;  and  of  discussing  difficulties,  and 
gathering  opinions,  as  matters  of  con- 
versation ;  but  always  to  keep  in  mind, 
that  to  ask  advice,  without  a  pre-deter- 
mination  to  follow  it,  is  to  call  for  cen- 
sure, and  to  risk  resentment. 


(     i8i     ) 

Thus  died  away  in  Juliet  the  short  joy 
of  freedom  from  the  controul  of  positive 
engagements. 

Such  freedom,  she  found,  was  but  a 
source  of  perpetual  difficulty  and  instabi- 
lity. She  had  the  world  to  begin  again  ; 
a  new  pursuit  to  fix  upon  ;  new  recom- 
mendations to  solicit  j  and  a  oew  dwel- 
ling to  seek. 


(     »82    ) 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

JULIET  was  making  enquiries  of  the 
young  work- women,  for  a  recommen- 
dation to  some  small  lodging,  when  she 
was  surprised  by  the  receipt  of  a  letter 
from  Mrs.  Pierson,  soliciting  her  com- 
pany  immediately  at  Lewes;  where  poor 
Flora,  she  said,  was  taken  dangerously 
ill  of  a  high  fever,  and  was  raving,  con- 
tinually, for  Miss  Ellis.  A  return  post- 
chaise,  to  the  postilion  of  which  Mrs. 
Pierson  had  given  directions  to  call  at 
Mrs.  Hart's,  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  would  bring  her,  for  nearly 
nothing;  if  she  would  have  so  much  cha- 
rity as  to  come  and  comfort  the  poor 
girl;  and  Mrs.  Pierson  would  find  a  safe 
conveyance  back  at  night,  if  Miss  Ellis 
cotdd  not  oblige  them  by  sleeping  at  the 
house :  but  she  hoped  that  Mrs.  Hart 
would  not  refuse  to  spare  her  from  her 


(     i83     ) 

work,  for  a  few  hours,  as  it  might  pro- 
duce a  favourable  turn  in  the  disorder. 

Juliet  read  this  letter  with  real  con- 
cern. Had  she  rescued  the  poor,  weak, 
and  wilful  Flora  from  immediate  moral, 
only  to  devote  her  to  immediate  physical, 
destruction  ?  And  what  now  could  be 
devised  for  her  relief?  Her  intellects 
were  too  feeble  for  reason,  her  temper 
was  too  petulant  for  entreaty.  Never- 
theless, the  benevolent  are  easily  urged 
to  exertion  ;  and  Juliet  would  not  refuse 
the  summons  of  the  distressed  mother, 
while  she  could  Hatter  herself  that  any 
possible  means  might  be  suggested  for 
serving  the  self-willed,  and  half-witted, 
but  innocent  daughter. 

She  set  out,  therefore,  upon  this  plan, 
far  from  sanguine  of  success,  but  per- 
suaded that  the  effort  was  a  duty. 

By  her  own  calculations  from  me- 
mory, she  was  arrived  within  about  a 
mile  of  Lewes,  when  the  horses  sudp 
denly  turned  dovm  a  narrow  lane. 

She  demanded  of  the  postilion  why 


(     i84     ) 

he  did  not  proceed  straight  forward. 
He  answered,  that  he  knew  a  short  cut 
to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Pierson.  Uneasy, 
nevertheless,  at  quitting  thus  alone  the 
high  road,  she  begged  him  to  go  the 
common  way,  promising  to  reward  him 
for  the  additional  time  which  it  might 
require.  But  he  drove  on  without  re- 
plying ;  though,  growing  now  alarmed, 
she  called,  supplicated,  and  menaced  in 
turn. 

She  looked  from  window  to  window 
to  seek  some  object  to  whom  she  might 
apply  for  aid;  none  appeared,  save  a 
man  on  horseback,  whom  she  had  al- 
ready noticed  from  time  to  time,  near 
the  side  of  the  chaise  ;  and  to  whom  she 
was  beginning  an  appeal,  when  she 
surprised  him  making  signs  to  hurry  on 
the  postilion. 

She  now  believed  the  postilion  him- 
self to  be  leagued  with  some  highway- 
man ',  and  was  filled  with  affright  and 
dismay. 

The  horses  galloped  on  with  encreased 


(     185     ) 

svviftness,  the  horseman  always  keeping 
closely  behind  the  chaise;  till  they  were 
stopt  by  a  small  cart,  from  which  Juliet 
had  the  joy  to  see  two  men  alight, 
forced,  by  the  narro^vness  of  the  road, 
to  take  off  their  horse,  and  drag  back 
their  vehicle. 

She  eagerly  solicited  their  assist- 
ance, and  made  an  effort  to  open  the 
chaise  door.  This,  however,  was  pre- 
vented by  the  pursuing  horseman,  who, 
dismounting,  opened  it  himself  ;  and,  to 
her  inexpressible  terrour,  sprung  into  the 
carriage. 

What,  then,  was  her  mingled  conster- 
nation and  astonishment,  when,  instead 
of  demanding  her  purse,  he  gaily  ex- 
claimed, "  Why  are  you  frightened, 
you  beautiful  little  creature  ?"  And  she 
saw  Sir  Lyell  Sycamore. 

A  change,  but  not  a  diminution  of 
alarm,  now  took  place;  yet,  assuming  a 
firmness  that  sought  to  conceal  her  fears, 
"  Quit  the  chaise,  Sir  Lyell,"  she  cried. 


(     i86    ) 

"  instantly,  or  you  will  compel  me  to 
claim  protection  from  those  two  men  1" 

"  Protection?  you  pretty  little  vixen!" 
cried  he,  yet  more  familiarly,  ^*  who 
should  protect  you  like  your  own 
adorer  ?" 

Juliet,  leaning  out,  as  far  as  was  in  her 
power,  from  the  chaise-window,  called 
with  energy  for  help. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  cried  he, 
striving  to  draw  her  back.  "  What  are 
you  afraid  of?  You  don't  imagine  me 
such  a  blundering  cavalier,  as  to  intend 
to  carry  you  off  by  force  ?" 

The  postilion  was  assisting  the  two 
men  to  fix  their  horse,  for  dragging 
back  their  cart-;  but  her  cries  reached 
their  ears,  and  one  of  them,  advancing  to 
the  chaise,  exclaimed,  "  Good  now  !  if 
it  is  not  Miss  Ellis  1"  And,  to  her  infinite 
relief  and  comfort,  she  beheld  young 
Gooch. 

She  entreated  him  to  open  the  door ; 
but,  lolling  his  arms  over  it,  without  at- 
tending to  her,  he  said,  "  AVell !  to  see 


(     187     ) 

but  how  things  turn  out !  Here  have  i 
been  twice  this  very  morning,  at  your 
new  lodgings,  to  let  you  know  it's  now 
or  never,  for  our  junket's  to  night ;  and 
the  old  gentlewoman  that  keeps  the 
house,  who's  none  of  the  good-na- 
turedest,  as  I  take  it,  would  never  let  me 
get  a  sight  of  you,  say  what  I  would;  and 
here,  all  of  the  sudden,  when  I  was  think- 
ing of  you  no  more  than  if  you  had  never 
been  born,  I  come  pop  upon  you,  as  one 
may  say,  within  cock-crow  of  our  very 
door;  all  alone,  with  only  the  young 
Baronight  !" 

Nearly  as  much  shocked,  now,  as,  the 
moment  before,  she  had  been  relieved, 
Juliet  eagerly  declared,  that  she  was 
not  with  any  body ;  she  was  simply  going 
to  Lewes  upon  business. 

"  Why  then,"  cried  he,  "  the  Ba- 
ronight must  be  out  of  his  head,  begging 
his  pardon,  to  let  you  come  this  way  ; 
and  the  postilion  as  stupid  as  a  post ; 
for  it's  quite  the  contrary.  It  will  lead 
you  to  you  don't  know  where.    We  only 


<     i88     ) 

turned  down  it  ourselves,  just  to  borrow 
a  few  glasses,  of  farmer  Barnes,  because 
we\e  more  mouths  than  we  have  got  of 
our  own:  for  I've  invited  all  our  club  j 
which  poor  dad  don't  much  like.  He 
says  I  am  but  a  bungler  at  saving  money, 
any  more  than  at  getting  it ;  but  I  am  as 
rare  a  hand  as  any  you  know,  far  or  near, 
says  the  old  gentleman,  for  spending  it. 
The  old  gentleman  likes  to  say  his  say. 
However,  1  must  not  leave  my  horse  to 
his  gambols." 

Then  nodding,  still  without  listening 
to  Juliet,  he  returned  to  his  chay-carU 

Juliet  now  unhasped  the  chaise-door 
herself,  and  was  springing  from  the  car- 
riage ;  when  Sir  Lyell,  forcibly  holding 
her,  exclaimed,  "  What  would  you  do, 
you  lovely  termagant?  Would  you 
make  me  pass  for  a  devil  of  a  ravisher? 
No,  no,  no!  you  handsome  little  fire- 
brand! name  your  terms,  and  command 
irie!  I  know  you  love  me, — and  I 
adore  you.  Why  then  this  idle  cruelty 
to  us  both?  to  nature  itself j  and  to 
beauty  ?" 


(     '89    ) 

More  and  more  indignant,  Juliet  ut- 
tered a  cry  for  help,  that  immediately 
brought  back  young  Gooch,  who  was 
followed  by  an  elderly  companion. 

Provoked  and  resentful,  yet  amazed 
and  ashamed,  the  Baronet  jumped  out 
of  the  chaise,  saying,  with  affected  con- 
tempt, yet  stronger  pique,  ^'  Yes !  help, 
gentlemen,  help  !  come  quick  !  quick  1 
Miss  Ellis  is  taken  suddenly  ill !" 

The  insolent  boldness  of  this  appeal, 
was  felt  only  by  Juliet ;  whose  scorn, 
however  potent,  w^as  less  prevalent  than 
her  satisfaction,  upon  beholding  her  old 
friend  Mr.  Tedman.  She  descended  to 
meet  him,  with  an  energetic  "  Thank 
Heaven  !"  and  an  excess  of  gladness,  not 
more  tormenting  to  the  Baronet,  than 
unexpected  by  himself.  "  AVell,  this 
is  very  kind  of  you,  indeed,  my  dear," 
cried  he,  heartilv  shakino;  hands  with 
her  ;  "  to  be  so  glad  to  see  me ;  espe- 
cially after  the  ungenteel  way  I  was 
served  in  by  your  lodging-gentlewoman, 
making  no  more  ceremony  than  refusing 


(     190     ) 

to  let  me  up,  under  cover  that  you 
saw  no  gentlemen  ;  though  I  told  her 
what  a  good  friend  I  had  been  to  you ; 
and  how  you  learnt  my  darter  the  mu- 
sicsj  and  how  I  used  to  bring  you  things; 
and  lend  you  money;  and  that;  and 
how  I  was  willing  enough  to  do  the  like 
again,  put  in  case  you  was  in  need  :  but 
I  might  just  as  well  have  talked  to  the 
post ;  v;hich  huffed  me  a  little,  I  own/' 

*'  O,  those  old  gentlewomen,"  inter- 
rupted Gooch,  "  are  always  like  that. 
One  can  never  make  any  thing  of  'em. 
I  don't  over  like  them  myself,  to  tell 
you  the  truth." 

Juliet  assured  them  that,  having  no 
time  but  for  business,  her  injunctions 
of  non-admission  had  been  uniform  and 
universal ;  and  ought  not,  therefore,  to 
offend  any  one.  She  then  requested 
Mr.  Tedman  to  order  that  the  postilion 
would  return  to  the  high  road  ;  Vv  hich 
he  had  quitted  against  her  positive  direc- 
tion ;  and  to  have  the  goodness  to  insist 
upon  his  driving  her  by  the  side  of  his 
own  vehicle,  till  tliey  reached  Lewes. 


(     191     ) 

Tedman,  looking  equally  important 
and  elated,  again  heartily  shook  hands 
with  her,  and  said,  "  My  dear,  I'll  do 
it  with  pleasure  ;  or,  I'll  engage  Tim  to 
send  off  your  chay,  and  I'll  take  you  in 
his'n  ;  put  in  case  it  will  be  more  to  your 
liking ;  for  I  am  as  little  agreeable  as 
you  are,  to  letting  them  rascals  of 
drivers  get  the  better  of  me." 

Juliet  acceded  to  this  proposal,  in 
which  she  saw  immediate  safety,  with 
the  most  lively  readiness ;  entreating 
Mr.  Tedman  to  complete  his  kindness, 
in  extricating  her  from  so  suspicious  a 
person,  by  paying  him  the  half-crown, 
which  she  had  promised  him,  for  carrying 
her  to  Lewes. 

"  Haifa-crown  ?"  repeated  Mr.  Ted- 
man, angrily  refusing  to  take  it.  '«  It's 
too  much  by  half,  for  coming  such  a  mere 
step ;  put  in  case  he  did  not  put  to 
o'purpose.  You're  just  like  the  quality  ; 
and  they're  none  of  your  sharpest ;  to 
throw  away  your  money,  and  know 
neither  the  why  nor  the  wherefore." 

i6 


(     192    ) 

The  Baronet,  with  a  loud  oath,  said 
that  the  postilion  was  a  scoundrel,  for 
having  offended  the  young  lady ;  and 
menaced  to  inform  against  him,  if  he 
received  a  sixpence. 

The  postilion  made  no  resistance ; 
the  horses  were  taken  off,  and  the  chaise 
was  drawn  back  to  the  high  road.  The 
little  carriage  belonging  to  young  Gooch 
followed,  into  which  Juliet,  refusing  all 
aid  but  from  Mr.  Tedman,  eagerly 
sprang  ;  and  her  old  friend  placed  him- 
self  at  her  side  ;  while  Gooch  took  the 
reins. 

Sir  Lyell  looked  on,  visibly  provoked ; 
and  when  they  were  driving  away,  called 
out,  in  a  tone  between  derision  and  in- 
dignation, "  Bravo,  Mr.  Tedman  !  You 
are  still,  I  see,  the  happy  man !" 

Young  Gooch,  laughing  without 
scruple,  smacked  his  horse  ;  while  Mr. 
Tedman  angrily  muttered,  "The quality 
always  allows  themselves  to  say  any 
thing !  They  think  nothing  of  that ! 
All's  one  to  them  whether  one  likes  it 
or  not." 


(     193     ) 

The  design  of  Juliet  was,  when  safely 
arrived  at  the  farm,  which  was  within  a 
very  short  walk  of  the  town  of  Lewes, 
to  beg  a  safe  guide  to  accompany  her  to 
the  house  of  Mrs.  Pierson  ;  where  she 
resolved  to  pass  the  night ;  and  whence 
she  determined  to  write  to  Elinor,  and 
solicit  an  interview  ;  in  which  she  meant 
to  lay  open  her  new  difficulties,  in  the 
hope  of  re-awakening  some  interest  that 
might  operate  in  her  favour. 

To  save  herself  from  the  vulgar 
forwardness  of  ignorant  importunity, 
she  forbore  to  mention  her  plan,  till  she 
alighted  from  the  little  vehicle,  at  the 
gate  of  the  farm-yard. 

"  Goodness!  Ma'am,"  then  cried  young 
Gooch,  "  you  won't  think  of  such  a 
thing  as  going  away,  I  hope,  before 
you've  well  come  ?  \¥hy  our  sport's  all 
ready!  why,  if  you'll  step  a  little  this 
way,  you  may  see  the  three  sacks,  that 
three  of  our  men  are  to  run  a  race  in ! 
There'll  be  fine  scrambling  and  tumbling, 
one  o'  top  o'  t'other.     You'll  laugh  till 

VOL.  lU.  K 


(     ?,94    ) 

yjou  split  yotur  sides.  And  if  you' 11  ^ly 
comehev^i  to  tlie  right,  1*11  ^hew  you- 
th e  stye  where  our  pig  is,  that's. to i be 
caught  by  the  tail..  But  it  will  be  w^l] 
soaped y  I  <*an  tell  yoi^j  so  it  will  hp^ 
such  easy  thing."  A-Adodim  U  iolnp 

Slightly  thanking  him,  Juliet  applied 
for  aid,  in  procuring  her  a  conductor,  to 
Mr.  Tednian ;  who,  though  at  first  he 
pressed  her  to  stay,  as  she  might  get  a^ 
little  amusement  so  pure  cheap,  since  it 
would  cost  nothing  but  looking  on  5  no 
sooner  heard  her  pronounce  that  she  was 
called  away  by  business,  than  he  ceased 
all  opposition;  and  promised  to  take 
care  of  her  to  Lewes  himself,  when  he*4 
just  spoken  a  word  or  two  to  his  qousin 
Gpoch :  "  For  I  can't  go  with  you,  my 
dear,  only  I  and  you,  you  know,  without 
that,"  he  said,  "  just  upon  coming; 
for  fear  it  should  put  them  upon  joking ; 
whiqh.-I  don't  like;  for  all  the  quality's 
so  fonciijpf  it*  /Besides  which,  I  must 
give  in  my  presents ;  for  this  littlf 
Ijarnper's  full  of  littl^  odd  things  f^,ihe 


(     195    ) 

junket ;  and  if  I  leave  'em  oil t  h^t^^to 
the  mercy  of  nobody  knows  who,  somB'j 
body  or  other  'il  be  a  pilfering,  as  sure  as 
a  gun;  put  in  case  they  smoke  what  I've' 
got  in  my  hamper.  And  they're  pretty 
quick  at  mischief!"  ^^^^fJ^  V-^^  ^'^^^ 

■■  Jdliet  supplicated  him  t<>  W  speedy. 
Pleased  to  have  his  services  accept- 
ed, he  put  his  hamper  under  his 
arm,  and  walked  on  to  the  house; 
mindless  of  the  impatient  remonstrances 
of-young  Gooch,  who  exclaimed,  "  Why 
teW^  ivho^^d  have  thought  this  of  the 
*Scfiiire?  it's  doing  just  contrary;  for 
he's  the  very  person  I  thought  would 
ifta'ke  you  stay  1  for  he's  come,  as  one 
rhay  say,  half  o'  purpose  for  your  sake  ; 
for  he  never  plump  accepted  of  our  invi- 
tation till  I  told  him,  in  my  letter,  of  my 
having  invited  of  you..  And  -then  he 
said  he  would  corned"-  b:  ? 
-■  CThen,  lowering  his  Voice  into  a  whis- 
per/he  added, '^^^  Between  ourselves, 
Ma-aray  tte^'p6c«*  *Squire,  my  good 
dousin,  dbh't  gel  much  for  his  money 

K    2 


(     >96    ) 

at  home,  I  believe.  His  daughter's  got 
quite  the  top  end ;  and  she's  none  of 
your  obhgingests  J  she  won't  do  one 
mortal  thing  he  desires.  She's  been 
brought  up  at  them  fine  boarding-schools, 
with  misses  that  hold  up  their  heads  so 
high,  that  nothing's  good  enough  for 
'em.  So  she's  always  ashamed  of  her 
papa,  because,  she  says,  he's  so  mean;  as 
he  tells  us.  The  poor  'Squire,  my  cousin, 
don't  much  like  it ;  but  he  can't  help 
himself.  She's  sls  exact  like  a .  fine  lady 
as  ever  you  see ;  and  she  won't  speak  a 
word  to  any  of  her  poor  relations,  be- 
cause they  are  so  low^  she  says."  He 
then  added,  "  If  you  won't  go  while 
I'm  gone,  I'll  give  you  as  agreeable  a 
surprize  as  ever  you  had  in  your  life !" 

He  ran  on  to  the  house. 

In  a  few  minutes,  Juliet  felt  some- 
thing tickle  the  nape  of  her  neck,  and, 
imagining  it  to  be  an  insect,. she  would 
have  brushed  it  away  with  her  hand,  but 
received,  between  her  fingers,  a  pink ;  and, 
looking  round,  saw  Flora  Pierson,  nearly 


(      197     ) 

breathless  from  ber  efforts   to  smother-a 
laugh. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  cried  Juliet,  in  great 
imazement.  "  Miss  Piersoii !  I  thought 
you  were  ill  in  bed  ?" 

No  further  efforts  were  necessary  to 
repress  the  laugh ;  resentment,  rather 
than  gravity,  took  its  place,  and,  with 
pouting  lips,  and  a  frowning  brow,  she 
answered,  "  111  ?  Yes !  I  have  had 
enough  to  make  me  ill,  that's  sure !  It's 
more  a  wonder,  by  half,  that  I  a'n't  dead  j 
for  I  cried  so  that  my  eyes  grew  quite 
little  ;  and  I  looked  quite  a  fright ;  and  I 
grew  so  hoarse  that  nobody  could  tell  a 
word  I  said;  though  I  talked  enough,  I'm 
sure ;  for  nothing  can  hinder  me  of  my 
talking,  if  it  was  never  so,  papa  says." 

Juliet,  now,  upon  closer  enquiry, 
learnt  that  Flora  had  neither  had  a 
fever,  nor  desired  a  meeting ;  and  that 
Mrs.  Pierson  had  neither  written  the 
letter,  nor  given  any  orders  about  a  re- 
turn post-chaise. 

The  passing  suspicions,  which  already 
had  occurred  to  Juliet  in   disfavour  of 

^  3 


(  *g8   ) 

Sir  Lyeli  Sycamore,  retuim^d,riov(^ywitFi 
reddtibled  force.  That  he-  had  niade 
sigiys  to  the  driver  to  quit  the  high  road, 
however  dismayTng,  she  had  attributed 
to  sudden  impulse,  upon  meeting  her 
alone'  ma  post'chaise ;  and  had  not 
•doubted  that,  upon  seeing  the  sincerity 
of  her  resentment,  he  would  liave  re- 
tired with  shanie  and  repentance:  but^a 
plan  thus  concerted  to  get  her  into  his 
power,  changed  apprehension  into  cer- 
tainty, and  indignation  into  abhorrence. 

The  happy  accident  to  which  she 
owed  her  escape,  even  from  the  know- 
ledge, till  it  was  past,  of  her  danger,  she 
nov/ blessed  with  rapture;  and  the  junket, 
so  disdained  and  rejected,  she  now  felt 
that  she  could  never  recollect  without 
grateful  delightl^^^  n^non^^.^'ii^BAi^mi 

But  how  return  to  Brighthelmstone  ? 
What  vehicle  find  ?  How  trust  herself 
to  any  even  when  procured  ? 

She  enquired  of  Flora  whether  it  w^re 
possible  iHat'Mrs.  Pierson  could  gr^tit 
' her  one  night's  lodging  ?    ^P  ^^^^  ^  ^^ 


(     ^99    ) 

(]jiWl^^omU§^iiv>ihe    dimpks,   and    th^ 
:^ood  humour  of  the  simple  girl,  all  re- 
vived, and  played  about  her  pretty  face, 
ial  this  request.     "OyesT'    she  cried. 
^dMiss  Ellis,  I  shall  be  so  glad  to  hav^ 
r^you  come !  for  mamma  and  I  are  so  dull 
together  that  Tm  quite  moped.  I  don't 
like  it  by  half  as  well  as  I  did  the  shop. 
So   many  smart  gentlemen   and   ladies 
coming    in    aiid    out    every    moment! 
dressed  so  nice,  and  speaking  so  polite  ! 
Mm  obliged  to  wear  all  my  worst  things, 
-now,  to  save  my  others,  mamma  says,  for 
fear  of  the  expence.     And  it  makes  me 
not  look  as  well  by  half,  as  I  did  at  Miss 
^Matson's.     I  looked  well  enough  there, 
jilTbeiieve  ;    as  people  told  me  5    at  least 
;  the  gentlemen.     But  I  go  such  a  dowd, 
here,  that  it's  enough  to  frighten  you.  I'm 
sure  when  I  go  to  the  glass,  and  that's  a 
hundred  times  a-day,  for  aught  I  know, 
if  it  were  counted,  to  see  what  sort  of  a 
figure  I  make,   I   could   break  it  with 
pleasure,  for  seeing  me  such  a  disguise; 
for  I  look  quite  ugly,  unless  I  happen  to 
be  in  my  smilings." 

K    4 


(     2eo     "j 

This  prattle  was  interrupted  by  a 
signal  from  Mr,  Tedman,  that  made 
Juliet  hope  that  he  was  now  ready  to 
depart ;  but,  upon  approaching  him,  he 
only  said,  "  Come  hither,  my  dear,  and 
sit  down  a  bit,  upon  this  bench,  for  we 
can't  go  yet.  I  have  not  given  all  my 
presents.  And  I  don't  care  to  leave 
'em  !"  winking  significantly  ;  "  not  that 
I  mean  to  doubt  any  body  j  only  it's  as 
well  have  a  sharp  eye.  We  are  all 
honestest  with  good  looking  after.*' 

Juliet  now  was  surrounded  by  young 
farmers,  who  offered  her  cakes,  or  ale, 
and  asked  her  hand  for  the  ensuing 
dance;  while  young  Gooch  collected 
around  him  an  admiring  audience,  to 
listen  to  his  account,  how  he  and  the 
young  gentlewoman,  who  was  so  pretty, 
had  acted  together  in  a  play. 

Mr.  Tedman  then  bid  her  divine  how 
his  cousin  Gooch  was  employed,  and 
why  the  presents  were  not  yet  delivered  ? 
and  upon  her  declared  inability  to  conjec- 
ture, "  Would  you  believe  it,  my  dear  ?" 


'     (       20I        ) 

he  cried,  "  For  all  Tim  drove  us  such  a 
good  round  trot,  the  quality  got  the 
start  of  us !  And  now  he's  in  the 
kitchen,  with  cousin  Gooch,  taking  a 
cup  of  ale  [*' 

The  disturbance  of  Juliet  at  this  in- 
telligence, he  thought  simply  surprize, 
and  continued,  "  Nay,  it  was  not  easy 
to  guess,  sure  enough.  He  must  have 
rid  over  every  thing,  hedge,  ditch,  and 
the  like.  But  your  quality's  not  over 
mindful  of  other  people's  property.  He's 
come  to  buy  some  hay.  He  come  o'pur- 
pose,  he  says.  And  he's  a  mortalgood  cus- 
tomer, for  he  says  nothing  but,  '  Mighty 
well !  That's  very  reasonable,  indeed !  I 
thought  it  had  been  twice  the  price !' 
Old  coz  chuckles,  I  warrant  him  !  Your 
quality's  but  a  poor  hand  at  a  bargain. 
I  would  not  employ  'em,,  betvteen  you 
and  I.  They  never  know  what  they  are 
about." 

They  were  now  joined  by  Mr.  Gooch, 
a  hale,  hearty,  cherry-cheeked  dapper 
farmer,  fair  in  all  his  dealings,  and  up- 
^  5 


rig&tfiilV/  aJfe  hfe  P^iflciples,  except  when 
tJieyvfe^id  jii^mediate  reference  to  his  pro- 
fers^ional  profits.  "  Well  1''  h^  criedj 
*«  'Squire  17  ,  rubbing  his  hands  in  great 
glei^rff  I've  had  a  good  chapman 
enough  here !;,  I've  often  seen  un  at  our 
races,  but  I  little  thought  of  having  to 
chaffer  with  un,  Howsever,  one  may 
have  worse  luck  with  one's  money.  A 
don't  much  understand  business.  But 
who's  that  pretty  lass  with  ye,  'Squire  ? 
Some  play-mate,  I  warrant,  of  cousin 
Molly  ?  And  why  did  no*  cousin  Molly 
come,  too?  A'd  a  have  been  heartily 
welcome.  And  perhaps  a'd  a  picked  up 
aj  sweetheart."  ^  -    ;:^ 

p.<f  Stop,  father,  stop!"  cried  young, 
Gooch  :"  I've  something  to  say  to  you,} 
You  know  how  you've  always  stood  to  it, 
that  yoii  would  not  believe  a  word  about 
all  those  battles,  and  guiliotines,  and  the 
like,  of  Mounseer  Robert  Speer,  in 
foreign  parts;  though  I  told  you,  ovet 
and  oyer,  that  I  had  it  from  our  club?; 
W^lll  here's  ^  per3Qn  now  here,  in  your 


(    ^o|     > 

own  grounds,  that's  seen  it  all  with  heft 
own  eyes !-  So  if  you  don't  believe  it 
now,  ril  bet  what  wager  you  will,  you'll 
never  believe  it  as  long  as  you  live." 
nsw  Like  enough  not,  Tim,"  answered 
the  fathet :  "  I  do  no*  much  give  my 
Mind  to  believing  all  them  outlandish 
fibs,  told  by  travellers.  I  can  hear 
staring  stories  eno'  by  my  own  fire-side. 
And  I  a'n't  over  friendly  to  believing 
^dm^^here.  But,  bless  my  heart !  for  a 
«ian  for  to  come  for  to  go  for  to  pretend" 
telling  me,  because  it  be  a  great  ways 
off,  and  I  can't  find  un  out,  that  there 
be  a  place  where  there  comes  a  man,  who 
says,  every  morning  of  his  life,  to  as  many 
c^-his  fellow-creatures  as  a  can  set  eves 
oo,>  whether  they  be  man,  woman,  or 
baby ;  here,  mount  me  two  or  three 
dozen  of  you  into  that  cart,  and  go  and 
have  your  heads  chopt  off!  And  that 
they'll  make  no  more  ado,  than  go,  only 
because  they're  bid  i  Why  if  one  will 
believe  such  staring  stuff  as  that  be,  out? 
may  as  well  believe  that  the  moon  be  mad^ 
K  6      - 


C    204    ) 

of  cream-cheese,  and  the  Hke.  There's  no 
sense  in  such  a  set  of  lies ;  for  Hfe's  life 
every  where,  even  in  France  ;  thof  it  be 
but  a  poor  starving  place,  at  best,  with- 
out  pasture,  or  cattle  ;  or  corn,  either, 
t    for  a  man  for  to  eat." 

"  Ay,  father,  ay;    but  Bob  Spear,  as 
we  call  him  at  our  club  — " 

"  Y're  young,  y're  young,  Tim," 
interrupted  Mr.  Gooch  ;  "  and  your 
youngsters  do  believe  every  thing.  When 
you've  sold  your  wild  oats,  you'll  know 
better.  But  we  must  n't  all  be  calves  at 
the  same  time.  If  there  were  none  for 
to  give  milk,  there'd  be  none  for  to  suck. 
So  it  be  all  for  the  best.  And  that 
makes  me  for  to  take  it  the  less  to  heart, 
when  I  do  see  you  be  such  a  gudgeon, 
Tim,  with  no  more  sense  than  to  swal- 
low neat  down  every  thing  that  do  come 
in  your  way.  But  you'll  never  thrive, 
Tim,  till  you  be  like  to  what  I  be  ; 
people  do  tell  such  a  peck  of  staring 
lies,  that  I  do  no'  believe,  nor  I  wo*  no' 
believe  one  mortal  word  by  hearsay." 
i6 


C    205    ) 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Mr.  Tedman, 
"  I  never  enquire  int3  all  that,  whether 
it  be  true,  or  whether  it  be  false  ;  because 
it's  nothing  to  me  either  way  ;  and  one 
wastes  a  deal  of  time  in  idle  curiosity, 
about  things  that  don't  concern  one  j 
put  in  case  one  can't  turn  them  to  one's 
profit." 

"  That's  true,  coz,"  said  Mr.  Gooch ; 
"  for  as  to  profit,  there  be  none  to  come 
from  foreign  parts  :  for  they  be  all  main 
poor  thereabout^  for,  they  do  tell  me, 
that  there  be  not  a  man  among  un,  as 
sets  his  eyes,  above  once  in  his  life,  or 
thereabout,  upon  a  golden  guinea !  And 
as  to  roast  beef  and  plum-pudding, 
I  do  hear  that  they  do  no'  know  the 
taste  of  such  a  thing.  So  that  they 
be  but  a  poor  stinted  race  at  best,  for 
they  can  never  come  to  their  natural 
growth." 

"  What,  then,  you  do  believe  what 
folks  tell  you  sometimes,  father  ?"  cried 
the  son,  grinning. 

"  To  be  sure  I  do,  Tim  ,  when  they 


(      206       ) 

do  tell  nie  somewhat  that  be  worth  ^ 
man's  hearing/^  ti    ..    v.,-.  ^r-.i,  i   ^  : 

They  were  noW  joined  hy  Mr*  i^Bbs, 
who,  seeing  Juliet,  was  happy  in  the 
opportunity  of  renewing  his  favourite  en- 
quiries, relative  to  the  agricultural  state 
of  the  contineiiti  :'  u.  cum.i  i}\uk-/u  sni  i^iu 

Mr.  Gooch,  extremely  surprized,  c:«- 
claimed,  **  Odds  heart !  Why  sure  such 
a  young  lass  as  that  be,  ha'n't  been 
across  seas  already  ?  Why  a  could  tt*t 
make  out  their  gibberish,  I  warrant  me  !■ 
for  't  be  such  queer  stuff  that  they  do 
talk,  all  o*un,  that  there's  no  getting  at 
what  they'd  be  at;  unless  one  larns  to. 
speak  after  the  same  guise,  like  to  our 
boarding-school  misses.  I've  seen  one  m* 
twoo'un  myself,  that  passed  here  about;  • 
but  their  manner  o*  talk  was  so  out  of 
the  way,  I  could  no'  make  out  a  word- 
they  did  say.  T'might  all  be  Dutch  f6r" 
me.  And  I  found  ^em  vast  ignoi-ant.: 
They  knew  no  more  than  my  horse  whefl- 
land  ought  for  to  be  manured,  from  when  • 
it  ought  for  to  lie  fallow.     I  did  ask  un^ 


C    207.   ) 

a  many  questions ;,  but  a  could  no*  an- 
swer me,  for  to  be  understood. ^'  ^  cl-. 
"  But,  for  all  that.  Master  GoocTi," 
said  Mr.  Stubbs,  "  my  late  Lord  has  told 
me  that  France  is  sincerely  a  fine  country, 
if  they  knew  how  to  make  the  most  of  itp 
but  the  waste  lands  are  quite  out  of  rea- 
son  ;  for  they  are  such  a  boggling  set  of 
farmers,  that  they  grow  nothing  but  what 
comes,  as  one  may  say,  of  itself." 
j'6*  'France  a  fine  country,  Maister 
Stubbs?  AVell,  that  be  a  word  1  did 
no'  count  to  hear  from  a  man  of  your 
sense.  Why't  be  as  poor  a  place  as: 
ye  might  wish  to  set  eyes  on,  all  over- 
run with  weeds,  and  frogs,  and  the 
like*,  ;  Why  ye  be  as  frenchified  as  Tim, 
making  out  them  mounseers  to  be  a 
parcel  of  Jack  the  Giant-kiiiers,  lopping 
off  heads  for  mere  play,  as  a  body  may 
say.  However,  here  be  one  that's  come 
to  our  hop,  that  be  a  finer  spark  than 
there  be  in  all  France,  I  warrant  me : 
for  a  makes  a  bow  as  like  to  a  mounseer, 
as  if  a  was  twin-brother  to  un  j  aqd  ar 


(       208       ) 

was  so  ready  to  pay  down  his  money 
handsomely,  I  could  no'  but  say  a'd  be 
welcome  to  our  junket ;  for  a  says  a  does 
like  such  a  thing  more  than  all  them 
new  fangled  balls  and  concerts." 

"  Oh,  and  you  believe  that  upon 
hear-say,  do  you,  father  ?"  cried  Tim, 
sneeringly. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,  I  do,  Tim.  When 
a  man  do  say  a  thing  that  ha'  got  some 
sense  in  it,  why  should  no'  I  believe  un, 
Tim  ?" 

Juliet,  who  from  what  had  preceded, 
had  concluded  the  Baronet  to  be  gone, 
earnestly  now  pressed  Mr.  Tedman  to 
fulfil  his  kind  engagement ;  but  in  vain  : 
Mr.  Gooch  brought  his  best  silver  tan- 
kard, to  insist  upon  his  cousin's  drink- 
ing success  to  the  new  purchase,  that 
occasioned  the  junket;  and  Tim  was 
outrageous  at  the  proposal  of  retiring, 
just  as  the  feats  were  goftig  to  com- 
mence. "  Before  five  minutes  are  over," 
said  he,  "  the  pig  will  begin  !" 

«  Well,"  answered  Mr.  Tedman,  "  it 


(     209     ) 

is  but  a  silly  thing,  to  be  sure,  things  of 
that  sort ;  and  I  never  give  my  mind  to 
them  ;  but  still,  as  it's  a  thing  I  never 
saw,  put  in  case  you've  no  objections, 
we'll  just  stay  for  the  pig,  my  dear." 

Flora,  having  now  gathered  that  the 
quality  meant  Sir  Lyell  Sycamore,  began 
dancing  and  singing,  in  a  childish  extacy 
of  delight,  that  shewed  her  already,  in 
idea,  Lady  Sycamore  ;  when,  turning  to 
Juliet  with  sudden  and  angry  recollec- 
tion, her  smiles,  gaiety,  and  capering 
gave  way  to  a  bitter  fit  of  crying,  and  she 
exclaimed,  "  But  if  he  is  here,  it  will  be 
nothing  to  me,  I  dare  say,  if  Miss  Ellis 
is  here  the  while ;  for  he  won't  look  at 
me,  almost,  when  she  is  by :  will  he  ? 
For  some  people  play  one  so  false,  that 
one  might  as  well  be  as  ugly  as  the  cat, 
almost,  v/hen  they  are  in  the  way." 

"  Don't  be  fretted.  Miss  Flora,"  cried 
young  Gooch,  soothingly  ;  ''  for  I  shall 
ask  Miss  Ellis  to  dance  myself;  for  as 
I  shall  begin  the  hop,  because  of  its 
being  our  own,  I  think  I've  a  good  right 


^d  clucs^niy  pa^r^n^er"?  so  don't  be  fretted, 
•so,  Miss  Flora,  for  yon'ri  have  the  Ba- 
ronight  left  to  you  v  hetlier  he  will  or 
no!  But  come  ;  don't  Jet's  lose  time  :  if 
lyou'U  follow  me,  you  won't  want  ispbrt, 
fjican  tell  you  ;  for  the  beginning's  to  bje 
a  syllabub  under  the  cow."      o:  nwonA 
i-y>  Flora  was  not  too  proud  to  accept' this 
'consolation ;    but  Juliet   positively   de- 
clared that  she  should  not  dance;  and 
earnestly  entreated  that  some  one  might 
be  found  to  conduct  her  to  Mrs.  Pier- 
son  s  •  ' lO V   i ;. /  V > i  i.  ^  i  j V -^  Jv  O J i  ./'/  i'j  '^ '.:  • 

Flora,  recovering  her  spirits,  with  the 
hopes  of  getting  rid  of  her  rival,  whis- 
pered, "  If  you're  in  real  right  earnest. 
Miss  Ellis,  and  don't  say  you  want  to 
go,  only  to  make  a  fool  of  me,  which  I 
shall  take  pretty  unkind,  I  assure  you  ; 
why  I  can  shew  you  the  way  so  as  you 
can't  miss  it,  if  you'd  never  so.  And 
I'm  sure  I  shall  be  glad  enough  to  have 
you  go,  if  I  must  needs  speak  without  a 
compliment.  Only  don't  tell  mamma 
who's  here,  for  she  don't  like  persons  of 


<       211       ) 

qiiillity,  vslie  says,  because  of  their  bad 
designs ;  but  I'm  sure  if  she  v/as  to  hear 
^em  talk  as  I  do,  she'd  think  quitf.Aii- 
other  opinion  :  ^vouldn't  she  V'-^-M  I  on 
Fortunately  for  the  intentions  of 
Juliet,  which  were  instantly  to  make 
known  to  Mrs.  Pierson  the  new  danger 
of  her  daughter,  Flora  waited  not  for 
any  answer  to  this  injunction  ;  but  set 
out,  prattling  incessantly  as  they  went 
on,  to  put  the  willing  Juliet  on  her  way 
to  Lewes. 

The  cry,  however,  from  young  Gooch, 

of  "  Come  !  Where  are  the  young  ladies? 

The  pig's  ready  1"   caught  the  ears  of 

Flora,  with  a  charm  not  to  be  resisted  ; 

and,  hastily  pointing  out  a  style,  to  pass 

into  a   meadow,  and  another,   to    pass 

tthence   to   the  high  road,  she  capered 

^briskly  back;  fearing  to  miss  some  of  the 

■«port,  if  not  a  seat  next  to  the  Baronet, 

hslg  ad  Hsde 
u  Ji/oujiw  'A&dqc'  ghssfi  iaum  i  -ti ,( 
lim'msm   i{9J   5'nob  ylnO     .Inamiivjuur, 
^'^     -r       -    -•  ^  '*iiob  odd  idl  ^^1^1  B^od-ff 


212 


CHAPTER  L. 

lULIET,  as  earnest  to  avoid,  as  Flora 
felt  eager  to  pursue,  the  opening  feats, 
hurried  from  the  destined  spot,  after 
charging  the  simple  damsel  not  to  make 
known  her  departure.  ,  Unavailing,  how- 
ever, was  the  caution ;  and  immate- 
rial alike  the  prudence  or  the  indiscre- 
tion of  Flora :  Juliet  had  no  sooner 
crossed  the  first  style,  than  she  perceived 
Sir  Lyell  Sycamore  sauntering  in  the 
meadow. 

She  would  promptly  have  returned  to 
the  farm,  but  a  shout  of  noisy  merriment 
reached  her  ears  from  the  company  that 
she  was  quitting,  and  pointed  out  the 
danger  of  passing  the  evening  in  the 
midst  of  such  turbulent  and  vulgar  re- 
velry. She  hastened,  therefore,  on  ;  but 
neither  the  lightness  of  her  step,  nor  the 
swiftness  of  her  speed,  could  save  her 


(     213     ) 

from  tbe  quick  approach  of  the  Baronet, 
"  My  angel !"  he  cried,  "  whither  are 
you  going  ?  and  why  this  prodigious 
haste  ?  What  is  it  my  angel  fears  ?  Can 
she  suppose  nie  rascal  enough,  or  fool 
enough,  to  m^ke  use  of  any  violence? 
No,  my  angel,  no!  I  only  ask  to  be 
regaled,  from  your  own  sweet  lips,  with 
the  delicious  tale  of  divine  partiality, 
that  the  quaint  old  knight  began  reveal- 
ing. I  sigh,  I  pant  to  hear  con- 
firmed  " 

"  Hold,  Sir  Lyell !"  interrupted  Ju- 
liet. "  If  Sir  Jaspar  is  the  author  of  this 
astonishing  mistake,  I  trust  he  will  have 
the  honour  to  rectify  it.  When  I  named 
you  to  him,  it  v/as  but  with  a  view  to 
rescue  a  credulous  young  creature  from 
your  pursuit,  whom  I  feared  it  might  in- 
jure ;  not  to  expose  to  it  one  whom  it 
never  can  endanger  ;  however  deeply  it 
may  offend." 

Struck  and  disappointed  at  the  cou- 
rage and  coolness  of  this  explanation. 
Sir  Lyell  looked  mortified  and  amazed  ; 


biit^  upon  sefelng  h^r  redcli  tW  styl^,^he 
sprang  over  it,  arid,  recovering  his  us  (id' 
eifron tery,  offered  h er  h is  h an d* 

Juliet  knew  not  whether  her  risk 
^ere  greater  to  proceed  or  to  TetWrri ; 
but  wliile  she  hesitated,  a  phaeton,  which 
was  driving  by,  stopt,  and  an  elderly 
lady,  addressing  the  Baronet,  in  a  tone 
of  fluvning  courtesy,  enquired  after  his 
health,  and  added,  "  So  you  are  come  to 
this  famous  junket.  Sir  Ly ell  ?" 
^^Sir  Lyell  forced  a  laugh,  and  bowed 
low  ;  though  he  muttered,  loud  enough 
for  Juliet  to  hear,  "  What  cursed  spies!'* 

Juliet  now  perceived  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Briuville ;  and  neither  innocence,  nor 
contempt  of  calumny,  could  suppress  a 
rising  blush,  at  being  surprised,  by  per* 
sons  already  unfavourably  disposed  to- 
wards her,  in  a  situation  apparently  so 
suspicious.  '-  ^'  ■'^-"''^'>  -■^'■^  !  ktn^bjDDr 
f^-The  countenance  of  the  mother  ex^ 
bibited  strong  chagrin  at  sight  of  Juliet  j 
while  the  daughter,  in  a  tone  of  pique^ 
said^^^  No  doubt  but  you  are  well  aniu«ed. 
Sir  Lyeli  ?" 


^rrhey^ydr^ve'  on  J  not,  however^  very"! 
fest,  and  with  so  little  self-command,  as 
frequently:  to  allow  themselves  to  look 
b^^ck.  '.This  indelicacy,  however  ill  adapt- 
ed, ;tc>  raise  them  in  the  esteem  of  the 
Baronet,  at  least  rescued  Juliet  fromf 
his  persecution.  Disconcerted  himself, 
he  felt  the  necessity  of  decency  ;  and, 
quitting  herewith  affected  carelessness,  he 
hummed  an  air,  while  grumbling  curses, 
and,  swinging  his  switch  to  and  fro, 
walked  off;  not  more  careful  that  the 
ladies  in  the  phaeton  should  see  him 
depart,  than  assiduous  to  avoid  with 
them  any  sort  of  junction. 
^oThe  relief  caused  to  Juliet  by  his 
retreat,  was  cruelly  clouded  by  her 
terrour  of  the  false  suggestions  to  which 
this  meeting  made  her  liable.  Neither 
mother  nor  daughter  Avpuld  believe  it 
accidental  5  nor  credit  it  to  have  been 
contrived  without  equal  guilt  in  both 
parties  Is  there  no  end,  then,  she  cried, 
to  the  evils  of  defenceless  female  youth  I 
And,  even  where  ac^tu^l,  4^nger  is  escaped^: 


C     2  l6      ) 

must  slander  lie  in  wait,  to  miscotistriie 
the  most  simple  actions,  by  surmising  the 
most  culpable  designs  ?  > 

Neither  to  follow  the  footsteps  of  ^w 
Lyell,   nor  to   remain  where  he -might 
return,  she  was  going  back  to  the  farm^; 
when  she  was  met  by  Flora,  who,  with  a 
species  of  hysterical  laughter,  nearly  of 
kin  to  crying,  called  out,  '^  So  Ma'am  1 
so  Miss  Ellis!  I've  caught  you'  at  kst 4* 
I've   surprised  you   at  last!   a-courtingi 
with  my  sweet-heart  !sfi  ij  :/f 
-   Pitying  her  credulous  ignorance,  Juliet- 
would  have  cleared  up  this  mistake  ;  but 
the   petulant  / Flora    would    not   listen. 
"  I'll  speak  to  the  gentleman  myself  i" 
she  cried,  running  forward  to  the  style  ; 
*'  for  I  have  found  out  your  design  ;  so 
it's  of  no  use  to  deny  it !     I  saw  you 
together  all  the  way  I  came  ;    so  you 
may  as  well  not  try  to   make  a  ninny 
of  me.  Miss  Ellis,  for  it  i'n't  so  easy  [" 

Catching  a  glimpse  of  the  Baronet  as 
he  descended  the  road,  she  jumped  over 
the  style  to  run  after  him;  but  seeing 


(     217    ) 

him  look  round,  and,  though  he  per- 
ceived her,  quietly  walk  on,  she  stopt, 
crying  bitterly  :  "  Very  well.  Miss  Ellis  ! 
very  well !  you've  got  your  ends  !  I  see 
that!  and,  I  don't  thank  you  for  it,  I 
assure  you,  for  I  liked  him  very  well ; 
and  it  i'n't  so  easy  to  find  a  man  of 
quality  every  day ;  so  it  i'n't  doing  as 
you'd  be  done  by;  for  nobody  likes 
much  to  be  forsaken,  no  more  than  I,  I 
believe,  for  it  i'n't  so  agreeable.  And 
I  had  rather  you  had  not  served  me  so 
by  half!  In  particular  for  a  man  of 
quality !" 

Juliet,  though  vainly,  was  endeavour- 
ing to  appease  and  console  her,  when  a 
young  lady,  bending  eagerly  from  the  win- 
dow of  a  post  chaise  which  was  passing 
by,  ejaculated,  "  Ellis  1"  and  Juliet,  with 
extreme  satisfaction,  perceived  Elinor. 

The  chaise  stopt,  and  Juliet  advanced 
to  it  with  alacrity  ;  but  before  siie  could 
speak,  the  impatient  Elinor,  still  looking 
pale,  meagre,  and  wretched,  burst  forth, 
with  rapid  and  trembling  energy,  into  a 

VOL,  III.  i 


p  218  ) 

&ti*ingof  disordered,  incoherent,  scarcely 
intelligible  interrogatories.  "  Ellis  ! 
v^ hat  brings  you  to  this  spot? — Whither 
is  it  you  go?  —  What  project  are  you 
forming? — ►What  purpose  are  you  ful-i 
filling  ? — Whom  are  you  flying — Whom 
are  you  following  ?  —  What  is  it  you 
•design  ?  — ■  What  is  it  you  wish  ?  —  Why 
are  you  here  alone  ?  —  Where  - — 
Where— '•  '  , -fo?*!:.';' 

Leaning,  then,  still  further  out  of  the 
window,  she  fixed  her  nearly  hagard,x 
yet  piercing  eyes  upon  those  of  Juliet, 
and,  in  a  hollow  voice,  dictatorially 
added  :  "  Where  —  tell  me,  I  charge 
you  !  where  —  is  Harleigh  ?" 

Consternation  at  sight  of  her  altered 
countenance,  and  affright  at  the  im- 
petuosity  of  her  questions,  produced  a  ^^ 
hesitation  in  the  answer  of  Juliet,  that, 
to  the  agitated  Elinor,  seemed  the  effect 
of  surprised  guilt.  Her  pallid  cheeks 
then  burnt  with  the  mixed  feelings  of 
triumph  and  indignation  ;  yet  her  voices^ 
sought  to  disguise  her  wounded  feelingS|fi 


C     2^9     If 

and  in  subdued,  though  broken  accents, 
"  'Tis  well  !*'  she  cried,  "  You  no 
longer,  at  least,  seek  to  deceive  me,  and 
I  thank  you  i"  Deaf  to  explanation  or 
•representation,  she  then  hurried  her 
weak  frame  from  the  chaise,  aided  by 
her  foreign  lackey;  and^  directing 
Juliet  to  follow,  crossed  the  road  to  a 
rising  ground  upon  the  Downs;  seated 
herself;  sent  off  her  assistant,  and  made 
Juliet  take  a  place  by  her  side;  while 
Flora  returned,  crying  and  alone,  to  the 
farm* 

"  Now,  then,"  she  said,  "  that  you  try 
110  more  to  delude,  to  cajole,  to  blind 
me,  tell  me  now,  and  in  two  words, — 
where  is  Harleigh  ?" 

".  Believe  me.  Madam, '*  Juliet 

was  tremblingly  beginning,  when  Elinor, 
casting  off  the  little  she  had  assumed  of 
self-command,  passionately, cried,  "Must 
I  again  be  played  upon  by  freezing  cau- 
tion and  duplicity  ?  Must  I  die  without 
end  the  lingering  death  of  cold  inaction 
and  uncertainty  ?  breathe  for  ever  with- 
out living  ?     Where,  I  demand,  is  Har- 

L    2 


(       2  20       ) 

leigh  ?:^  Whfer^  have  yoa  doncesiUd Bim  ? 
Whj^ \^ir Harleigh^i  tke -noble  H^vle%]i, 
clegfade  hiiiiseif  by  any  conceal raferrt? 
Why  stoop  to  the  siibtilty  of  circii^speci 
tron,  to  spare  himself  the  appeamticc  of 
destroying  drte  whose  head,  heart,  and 
Vitals,  all  feel  the  reality  of  the  destruc- 
tion he  inflicts  ?  And  yet  not  he !  No; 
ilo  !  'tis  my  own  ruthless  star !  He  loves 
rne  hot !  he  is  not  responsible  for  my 
misery,  though  he  is  master  of  my  fate  ! 
Where  is  he  ?  where  is  he  ?  You,— who 
are  the  tyrant  of  his!  tell  me,  and  at 
once!  ^^  -^   c^^-' 

*'  I  solemnly  protest  to  yoii,  Mad'^rft, 
\vith  the  singleness  of  the  most  scrupu- 
lous truth,''  cried  Juliet,  recovering  her 
presence  of  mind,  "  I  am  entirely  igno- 
rant of  his  abode,  his  occupations,  and 
his  intentions."  Ah  why,  she  secretly 
added,  am  I  not  equally  unacquainted 
with  his  feelings  and  his  wishes ! 
^'''Unable  to  discredit  the  candour  with 
.which  this  was  pronounced,  and  filled 
with  wonder,  yet  involuntarily  consoled. 


(       221        ) 

the  features  of  Elinor  lost  their  rigidity, 
and  her  eyes  their  fierceness ;  and,  *u 
milder  accents,  she  replied,  "  Strange ! 
how  strange !  Where,  then,  can  he  be  ? 
—  with  whom  ?  —  how  employed  ?  ^ 
Does  he  fly  the  whole  world  as  well  asi 
Eii^ior?  Has  no  one  his  society  ?  — no 
one  his  confidence?-— his  society,  which^ 
by  contrast,  makes  all  existence  witli^ 
out  it  disgusting  !  — -  his  confidence^ 
which,  to  obtain,  I  would  yet  live,  though 
doomed  daily  to  the  rack !  O  Harl^gh  ! 
Jove  like  mine,  ywhci . has  felt  ?■ — love  like 
mine,  who  but  you,  O  matchless  Har* 
leigh !  ever  inspired!" 

Tears  now  gushed  into  her  eyes. 
Ashamed,  and  angry  with  herself,  she 
J^tily  brushed  them  off  with  the  back 
ipf  her  hand,  and,  with  forced  vivacity, 
continued,  "  He  thinks,  perchance,  to 
^icker^  me  into  the  pining  end  of  a  love- 
sick consumption  ?  to  avert  the  kindly 
bowl  or  dagger,  that  cut  short  human 
misery,  for  th^  languors,  the  sufferings 
^ud  despair  of  a  loathsome  n at uraj  death? 
^  3 


(       222       ) 

And  for  what  ?  —  to  restore,  to  preserve 
me^l^'Mohml  have  no  share  in  the  ar- 
fangement;  no  interest,  no  advantage 
from  the  phm.  Appearances  alone  are 
considered ;  all  else  is  regarded  as  im- 
material ;  or  sacrificed.  And  he,  Har- 
leigh,  the  noblest,  —  the  only  nobk 
jof  men !  —  can  level  himself  with  the 
narrowest  and  most  illiberal  of  his 
race,  to  pay  coward  obeisance  to  ap- 
-pearances  1" 

A?;ain  she  then  repeated  her  persona) 
interrogatories  to  Juliet ;  and  demanded 
whether  she  should  set  oil*  immediately 
for  Gretna  Green,  with  Lord  Melbury; 
or  whether  she  must  wait  till  he  should 
be  of  age.  '■'    * 

"  Neither!"  Juliet  solemnly  answered; 
and  frankly  recounted  her  recent  difficul- 
ties ;  and  entreated  the  advice  of  Elinor 
for  adopting  another  plan  of  life. 

Elinor,  interrupting  her,  said,  "  Nay, 

'twas  your^wn  choice, you  knoWjtolivein 

a  garret,  and  hem  pocket-handkerchiefs." 

^F\fv^*  Choice,    Madam !     Alas!  deprived 

tf  all  but  personal  resource,  I  lixed  upon 


a  mode  of  life  that  promised  me,  at  least, 
my  mental  freedom.  I  was  not  then 
aware  how  imaginary  is  the  independ- 
ence, that  hangs  for  support  upon  the 
uncertain  fruits  of  daily  exertions  !  In- 
dependent, indeed,  such  situations  may 
be  deemed  from  the  oppressions  of 
power,  or  the  tyrannies  of  caprice  and 
ill  humour  ;  but  the  difficulty  of  obtain- 
ing employment,  the  irregularity  of 
pay,  the  dread  of  want,  —  ah!  what 
is  freedom  but  a  name,  for  those  who 
have  not  an  hour  at  command  from  the 
subjection  of  fearful  penury  and  dis- 
tress?" 

"  If  alltliisis  so,"  said  Elinor,  "which, 
unless  you  wait  for  Lord  Melbury's 
majority,  is  more  than  incomprehensible ; 
what  say  you,  now,  to  an  as3^1um  safe, 
at  least,  from  torments  of  this,  sort ;  — r- 
wiil  you  commission  me,  at  length,  to 
apply  to  Mrs.  Jreton  ?"      ;. 

Juliet,    instinctively,  recoiled  at;  tbe 
'  very  name  of  that  lady;  yet  a  lit  t^lie  reflec- 
tion upon  the^^da^gers  t6  which- 'she' was 


veity-y-teoivgh  die  lawless  piir&uit'M  Sir 
il^Sl  Sycamore ;  and  the  vkitlRftive 
calumnies  of  the  Brinvilles,  tnade^tl^^ 
wish  of  solid  safety  rejaress  the  disgusts 
of  offended  sensibility  5'^  ^nd,  after  a 
painful  pause,  she  recommended  herself 
to  the  support  of  Elinor :  resolving  to 
accept,  for  the  moment,  any  proposition^ 
that  might  secure  her  an  honourable 
refuge  from  want  and  misconception. 

Elinor,  looking  at  her  suspiciously,' 
said,  «'  And  Harleigh  ?  —  Will  he  let 
you  submit  to  such  slavery  ?'* 

Mr.  Harleigh,  Juliet  protested,  could 
have  no  influenee  upon  her  determina-* 
Hot),  >'i£f,Jie  -'-  oj  9viloat 

"  But  you  yourself,  who  a  month  or 
two  ago,  could  so  ill  bear  her  taun tings, 
how  is  it  you  are  thus  suddenly  endued 
^ith  so  much  humility  ?'^ 

<«  Alas,  Madam,  all  choice,  all  taste, 
iiU  obstacles  sink  before  necessit)  ! 
When  I  came  over^  I  had  expectations 
of  immediate  succour,     I  knew  not  that 


(       225       ) 

the  friend  I  sought  was  herself  ruined, 
as  well  as  unhappy  1  I  had  hopes,  too, 
of  speedy  intelligence  that  might  have 
liberated  me  from  all  my  difficulties  >  . ." 

She  stopt;  Elinor  exclaimed,  ^VFfom 
whence  ?  —  From  abroad  ?  ---"hr.cjn 
:  rjuliet  \yas  silent ;    and  Elinor,  afters 
few  passing  sallies  against  secrets  and. 
mystery,  sarcastically  bid  her  consider,, 
before   she    adopted    this   new  scheme, 
that  Harleigh  never  visited  at  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton's  ;  having  taken,  in  equal  portions,  a 
dose  of  aversion  for  tlie  mother,  and  of 
contempt  for  the  son. 

Juliet  calmly  replied,  that  such  a  cir- 
cumstance could  be  but  an  additional 
motive  to  seek  the  situation  ;  and,  hope- 
less, lor  the  moment,  of  doing  better, 
seriously  begged  that  proper  measures 
might  be  taken  to  accelerate  the  plan. 

Elinor,  now,  from  mingled  wonder, 
satisfaction,  and  scorn,  recovered  all  her 
wonted  vivacit^«rf  "  t^ou  are  really,  and 
bona  jidoy  -conteht,ed,'?;4b§nj'*:.^sbe  cried, 
"  to  be^shut  up  as  completely  from  l^^X' 
leigh,  through  his  horrour  of  that  wo- 

^  5 


(       226      ) 

^woman's  irascible  temper,  as  if  you 
were  separated  by  bolts,  bars,  dungeons, 
towers,  and  bastilles  ?  I  applaud  your 
taste,  and  wish  you  the  full  enjoyment 
of  its  fruits  !  Yet  v/hat  materials  you 
ciai  be  made  of,  to  see  the  first  of  men 
at  your  feet,  and  voluntarily  to  fly  him, 
to  be  trampled  under  by  those  of  the 
most  odious  of  women,  I  cannot  divine  ! 
'Tis  an  exuberance  of  apathy  that  sur- 
passes my  comprehension.  And  can 
He,  the  spirited  Harieigh,  love,  adore, 
such  a  composition  of  ice,  of  snow,  of 
marble  ?" 

She  could  not,  however,  disguise  the 
elation  with  which  she  looked  forward, 
to  depositing  Juliet  where  information 
might  constantly  be  procured  of  her 
visitors  and  her  actions.  They  went 
together  to  the  carriage ;  and  Elinor 
conveyed  her  submissive  and  con- 
temned, yet  agonizingly  envied  rival, 
to  Brighthelmstone. 

In    her  usually   unguarded   manner, 
Elinor,  by  the  way,  communicated  the 


(       227       ) 

Vafioiis,  but  successless  efforts  bjr  which 
she  had  endeavoured  to  gain  intelligence 
whither    Harleigh    had  rambled.     "   If 
I  pursued  him,"  she  cried,  "  with  the 
vanity  of  hope ;   or  with  the  meanness 
of  flattery,  he  would  do  well  to  shun  me ; 
but  the  pure-minded  Harleigh  is  capable 
of  believing,  that  the  moment  is  over 
for  Elinor  to  desire  to  be  his  !     And,  to 
sustain  at  once  and  shew  my  principles, 
I  never  seek  his  sight,  but  in  presence  of 
her  who  has  blasted  even    my  wishes ! 
Else,  thus  clamourously  to  invoke,  thus 
pertinaciously  to  follow  him,  might,  in- 
deed, merit  avoidance.    But  Elinor,  now, 
would  be  as  superiour  to  accepting, . .  • 
as  she  is  to  forgetting  him  !" 

"  Yet  his  obdurate  seclusion,*'  she 
continued,  "  is  the  only  mark  I  re- 
ceive, that  I  escape  his  disdain.  It 
shews  me  that  he  fears  the  event  of  a 
meeting.  He  does  not,  therefore, 
utterly  deride  the  pusillanimity  of  my 
abortive  attempt.  O  could  I  justify 
his  good  opinion  !  —  All  others,  I  doubt 
L  6 


(      228      ) 

not,  Insult  me  by  the  most  ludicrous 
suspicions ;  they  are  welcome.  They 
judge  me  by  their  little- minded  selves. 
But  thou,  O  Harleigh !  could  I  see 
thee  once  more!  —  in  thy  sight,  thy 
loved  sight,  could  I  &ihk,  at  last,  my 
sorrows  and  my  disgrace  to  rest!  to 
oblivion,  to  sleep  eternal  !"  - — 

Vainly  Juliet  essayed  to  plead  the 
cause  of  religion,  and  the  duties  of  life ; 
ijnanswered,  unmarked,  unheard,  she 
talked  but  to  the  air.  All  that  wa« 
uttered  in  return,  began  and  ended  alike 
with  Harleigh,  death,  and  annihilation. 


hi 


iOV';>^:;i 


A3\ 


:.n 


BOOK  VI. 

CHAPTER  LI. 

JULIET  could  not  but  be  gratified  hy 
o  ff  a  circumstance  so  important  to  her 
reputation,  with  the  Brinviiles,  and  with 
,  jthose  among  the  inhabitants  of  Bright- 
lielmstone  to  whom  she  was  known, 
as  that  of  Leing  brought  home  by  Miss 
tfpddrel^  after  an  adventure  that  must 
unavoidably  raise  curiosity,  and  that 
threatened  to  excite  slander.  For  with 
however  just  a  pride  wronged  inno- 
cence may  disdain  injurious  aspersions, 
female  fame,  Hke  the  wife  of  Csesar, 
ought  never  to  be  suspected. 

The  celerity  of  the  motions  of  Elinor, 
nearly  equalled  the  quickness  of  her 
ideas.  Her  lackey  arrived  the  next 
morningv  to  help  to  convey  Juliet,  and 
her  baggage,  immediately  to  the  dwell- 


C    230    ) 

ing  of  Mrs.  Ireton;  with  a  note  from  his 
mistress,  indicating  tliat  Mrs.  Ireton  was 
ah'eady  prepared  to  take  her  for  a  com- 
panion. "  An  humble  companion," 
Elinor  v/rote,  "  I  need  not  add  ;  I 
had  nearly  said  a  pitiful  one  ;  for  who 
would  voluntarily  live  with  such  an  anti- 
dote to  all  the  comforts  of  life,  that  has 
spirit,  sense,  or  soul?  O  envied  Ellis! 
how  potent  must  be  the  passion,  the  in- 
fatuation, that  can  make  Harleigh  view 
such  meanness  as  grace,  and  adore  it  as 
dignity  ! — O  icy  Ellis  ! — but  the  human 
heart  would  want  strength  to  support 
such  pre-eminent  honour,  were  it  be- 
stowed upon  a  mind  gifted  for  its  appre- 
ciation 1*' 

Then  again,  Avishing  her  joy  of  her 
taste,  she  assured  her  that  it  was  recipro- 
cated ;  for  Mrs.  Ireton  was  all  impa- 
tience to  display,  to  a  new  dependent, 
her  fortune,  her  power,  and  her  mag- 
nificence. 

Juliet,  with  her  answer  of  thanks  for 
this  service,  wrote  a  few  lines  for 
Mrs.  Pierson,    which    she   begged    the 


(     231     ) 

messenger  to  deliver.  They  i^ere  to 
warn  the  imprudent,  or  deceived  mother 
of  the  dangerous  state  of  mind  in  which 
her  daughter  still  continued;  and  to 
give  her  notice  that  Sir  Lyell  Sycamore, 
who  could  not  be  guarded  against  too 
carefully,  was  still  in  the  neighbourhood. 

With  a  mind  revolting  from  a  mea- 
sure which,  while  prudence,  if  not  ne- 
cessity, dictated,  choice  and  feeling  op- 
posed, she  now  quitted  her  mantua- 
maker's  abode,  to  set  out  for  her  nev/ 
destination ;  seeking  to  cheer  herself 
that,  at  least,  by  this  step,  she  should  be 
secured  from  the  licentious  pursuit  of 
Sir  Lyell  Sycamore  ;  the  envenomed 
shafts  of  calumny  of  the  enraged  Brin- 
villes  ;  the  perpetual  terrour  of  debts  ; 
and  the  cruel  apprehension  of  want. 

She  had  not  far  to  go;  but  the  morti- 
fications, for  which  she  prepared  herself, 
began  by  the  very  sight  of  the  dwelling 
into  which  she  was  to  enter.  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton  had  taken  tlie  Jiousc  of  Mrs.  Howel: 
—  that  house  in  which  Juliet  had  first, 
after  her  arrival  in   England,  received 


(      234V   ) 

consolation  in  her  distresses  5  been  mdt*- 
ed  by  kindness ;  or  animated  by  appro-  : 
bation.  There,  too,  indeed,  she  had 
experienced  the  pain  which  she  had 
felt  the  most  severely  ;  for  there  all  the 
soothing  consideration,  so  precious  to 
her  sorrows,  had  abruptly  been  broken 
off,  to  give  place  to  an  assault  the  most 
shocking  upon  her  intentions,  her  pro-, 
bity,  her  character.  1  '"     :  >. 

Here,  too,  she  had  suffered  the  cruel 
affront,  and -heart-felt  grief,  of  seeing 
the  ingenuous^  amiable  Lord  Melbury 
forget  v.'hat  was  due  to  the  rights  of 
hospitality  ;  to  his  own  character  ;  and 
to  the  respect  due  to  his  sister :  and 
here  she  had  witnessed  his  sincere  and 
candid  repentance;  here  had  been  soften- 
ed, touched,  and  penetrated  by  the  im- 
pressive anguish  of  his  humiliation. 

These  remembrances,  and  the  various 
affecting  and  interesting  ideas  by  which 
they  were  accompanied,  gave  a  dejection 
to  her  thoughts,  and  a  sadness  to  her  air, 
thait  would  have  awakened  an  interest 
5 


(    233    ) 

ia  hdf  favour,  in  any  one  whose  beait*:: 
had  been  open  to  the  feelings  of  others 50 
but  the  person  under  whose  protectioaJ 
she  was  now  to  place  herself,  v/as  a:> 
stranger  to  every  species  of  sensatioar 
that  w^s  not  personal  And  where  die ;^ 
calk  of  self  upon  sensibility  areunremit»d 
ting, what  must  be  the  stock  that  willi 
gift  us,  also,  with  supply  sufficient;  foc^ 
our  fellow-creatures  ?  :  ^  !  .v,   • 

She  found  Mrs.  Ireton  reclining  upon 
a  sofa;  at  the  side  of  which,  upon  a  green 
velvJet  cushion,  lay  a  tiny  old  lap  dog» 
whom  a  little  boy,  evidently  too  wanton.: 
to   find   pleasure   but   in   mischief,  was; 
secretly  tormenting,  by   displaying  be- 
fore him  the  breast  bone  of  a  chicken^^' 
which  he  had  snatched  from  the  platter 
of  the  animal ;  and  which,  the  moment 
that  he  made  it  touch  the  mouth  of  the 
cur,  he  hid,  with  all  its  fat  and  its  grease, 
iti  his  own  waistcoat  pocket. 

Near  to  these  two  almost  equally  in- 
dulged and  spoilt  animals,  stood  a  nur- 
sery maid,  with  a  duster  and  an  hearth- 


<     ^34     ) 

broom  in  her  hands,  who  was  evidently 
incensed  beyond  her  pittance  of  pa- 
tience, from  clearing  away,  repeatedly, 
their  joint  litter  and  dirt. 

Scared,  and  keeping  humbly  aloof, 
near  a  window  frame,  stood,  also,  a  little 
girl,  often  or  twelve  years  of  age,  who, 
as  Juliet  afterwards  heard  from  the 
angry  nursery  maid,  was  an  orphan,  that 
had  been  put  to  a  charity  school  by  Mrs. 
Ireton,  as  her  ^Sirticular  protegee ;  and 
who  was  now,  for  the  eighth  time,  by 
the  direction  of  her  governess,  come  to 
solicit  the  arrears  due  from  the  very 
beginning  of  her  school  instruction. 

Yet  another  trembler,  though  not  one 
equally,  at  this  moment,  to  be  pitied, 
held  the  handle  of  the  lock  of  the  door; 
not  having  received  intelligible  orders 
to  advance,  or  to  depart.  This  was 
a  young  negro,  who  was  the  favourite, 
because  the  most  submissive  servant  of 
Mrs.  Ireton  ;  and  whose  trembling  V^as 
simply  from  the  fear  that  his  lady  miglit 
remark    a  grin  which  he  could  not  re» 


(   ns    ) 

press,  as  he  looked  at  the  child  and  the 
dog. 

Mrs.  Ireton  herself,  though  her  rest- 
less eye  roved  incessantly  from  object 
to  object,  in  search  of  various  food  for 
her  spleen,  was  ostensibly  occupied  in 
examining,  and  decrying,  the  goods  of  a 
Mercer;  but  when  Juliet,  finding  her- 
self unnoticed,  was  retreating,  she 
called  out,  "  O,  you  are  there,  are  you  ? 
I  did  not  see  you,  I  protest.  But  come 
this  way,  if  you  please.  I  can't  possibly 
speak  so  far  off." 

The  authoritative  tone  in  which  this 
was  uttered,  joined  to  what  Juliet  ob- 
served of  the  general  tyranny  exercised 
around  her,  intimidated  and  shocked 
her;  and  she  stood  still,  and  nearly 
confounded. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  holding  her  hand  above 
her  eyes,  as  if  to  aid  her  sight,  and 
stretching  forward  her  head,  said,  "  Who 
is  that?  —  pray  who's  there?  —  I  im- 
agined it  had  been  a  person  I  had  sent 
for ;  but  I  must  certahily  be  mistaken. 


(     236     I 

as  she  does  not  coma  to  nt6.  /JPiaiy  has: 
any  body  here  a  spying  glass  ?  I  really 
can't  see  so  far  off.  I  beg  pavdo,i;a  for 
having  such  bad  eyes!  I  hope  you'll 
forgive  it.  Let  me  know,  however,  wlio 
it  is,  1  beg."  .07/ 

,  Juliet  tried  to  speak,  but  felt  so  con- 
fused and  disturbed  what  to  answer, 
that  ,sbe^,cQuldi)Qi,  clearly  articulate  a 

W^-- 1  hoik:'-  "'c^  assoT  DOY  ob  jijdw  ** 
%  -rfv.  You  won't  tell  me,  then  ?"  cob* 
tinned  Mrs.  Ireton,  Jo wering  her  voice 
nearly  to  a  whisper,"  or  is  it  that  I  am 
not  heard  ?  Has,  any  body  got  a  speak- 
ing trumpet  ?  or  f}o  you  think  my  lungs 
so  capacious  and ;, powerful,  that  thej? 
may  take  its  jjl^c^i^'r-:^     ^  ;  ^       ^   ^v  ^ 

Juliet,  now, .tbpugh  most^  unwillingly^ 
moved  forward  ;  and  Mrs.  Ireton,,  sur* 
veying  her,  said,  "  Yes,  yes,  1  see  vehp 
you  arei:  ;I  recpU^Pt  yoii  i>ow,  Mrs.^^^q 
Mrs.. .. .«  .  J?  forget  yqu r  p anae,  tliough ,  ^t 
protest.  ,rJL^  can't  recollect  your  ^namei^Jt 
own.  I'm  quitjs.  ashamed,  but  I  really 
cannot  ^all  it  to  mii)4...  I>^>u^tJ>eu:i^ 


C    237    ) 

Mttle  hetp.  What  is  it?  What  is  yoiir 
nkme,  Mrs. .  .  .  Mrs. .  .  .  Hay  ?  —  Mrs. 
vv.Whatr' 

^^  Coiouring  and  stammering,  Juliet  an- 
swei'ed,  that  she  had  hoped  Miss  Joddrei 
would  have  saved  her  this  explanation, 
bv  mentioning  that  she  was  called  Miss 
Ellis. 

^^  Called  ?*'  repeated  Mrs.  Ireton  ; 
"  what  do  you  mean  by  called  ?  —  who 
calls  you  ?  —  What  are  you  called  for  ? 
—  Why  do  you  wait  to  be  called  ?  — 
And  where  are  you  called  from  r" 

The  entire  silence  of  Juliet  to  these 
interrogatories,  gave  a  moment  to  the 
mercer  to  ask  for  orders. 

"  You  are  in  haste.  Sir,  are  your*' 
said  Mrs.  Ireton  3  "  1  have  your  pardon 
to  beg,  too,  have  I  ?  I  am  really  very 
unfortunate  this  morning.  However, 
pray  take  your  things  away.  Sir,  if  it's 
so  immensely  troublesome  to  you  to 
exhibit  them.  Only  be  so  good  as  to 
acquaint  your  chief,  whoever  he  may  be, 
that  you  had  not  time  to  wait  for  me  to 
make  any  purchase.'' 


(    238     ) 

'>:iThe  man  offered  the  huir^blest  apo-' 
logies,  Vvhich  were  all  disdained  5  and 
self-defending  excuses,  which  were  all 
retorted;  he  was  peremptorily  ordered^ 
to  be  gone  ;  with  an  assurance  that  he 
should  ansvver  for  his  disrespect  to  his 
master;  who,  she  flattered  herself,  would 
give  him  a  lesson  of  better  behaviour, 
by  the  loss  of  his  employment. 

Harassed  with  apprehension  of  what 
she  had  to  expect  in  this  new  residence, 
Juliet  would  silently  have  followed  him. 
"  Stay,  Ma'am,  stay!'*  cried  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton  ;  "  give  me  leave  to  ask  one  ques- 
tion :  —  whither  are  you  going,  Mrs. .  .  . 
what's  your  name  ?" 

"  I  ...  I  feared,  Madam,  that  I  had 
come  too  soon." 

"  O,  that's  it,  is  it  ?  I  have  not  paid 
you  sufficient  attention,  perhaps  ?  —  Nay 
it's  very  likely.  I  did  not  run  up  to 
receive  you,  I  confess.  I  did  not  open 
my  arms  to  embrace  you,  I  own !  It 
was  very  wrong  of  me,  certainly.  But  I 
am  apt  to  forget  myself.  I  want  & 
6 


(     ^39    ) 

•flapper  prodigiously.  I  know  nothing 
of  life, —  nothing  of  manners.  Perhaps 
you  will  be  so  good  as  to  become  my 
monitress?  'Twill  be  vastly  kind  of 
you.  And  who  knows  but,  in  time,  you 
may  form  me?  How  happy  it  will  be 
if  you  can  make  something  of  me!" 

The  maid,  now,  tired  of  wiping  up 
splash  after  splash,  and  rubbing  out  spot 
after  spot  ^  finding  her  work  always  re- 
newed by  the  mischievous  little  boy, 
was  sullenly  walking  to  the  other  end  of 
the  room. 

"  O,  you're  departing  too,  are  you  ?'* 
said  Mrs.  Ireton  ;  "  and  pray  who  dis- 
missed you  ?  whose  commands  have  you 
for  going?  Inform  me,  I  beg,  who  it  is 
that  is  so  kind  as  to  take  the  trouble  off 
my  hands,  of  ordering  my  servants  ?  I 
ought  at  least  to  make  them  my  humble 
acknowledgements.  There's  nothing  so 
frightful  as  ingratitude." 

The  maid,  not  comprehending  this 
irony,  grumblingly  answered,  that  she 
liad  wiped  up  the  grease  and  the  slops, 


(       240       ) 

till  her  arms  ached  ;  for  the  ilttle  boy 
made  more  dirt  and  nastiness  than  the 
cur  himself. 

"  The  boy?— The  cur?— Whafs 
all  this?''  cried  Mrs.  Ireton  ;  "  who,  and 
what,  is  the  woman  talking  of?  The  boy? 
Has  the  boy  no  name? — The  cur? 
Have  yoQ  no  more  respect  for  your 
lady's  lap  dog  ?  —  Grease  too  ?  —  Nasti- 
ness! — you  turn  me  sick!  I  am 
ready  to  faint !  What  horrible  images 
you  present  to  me !  Has  nobody  any 
salts  ?  any  lavendar-water  ?  How  un- 
fortunate it  is  to  have  such  nerves,  such 
sensations,  when  one  lives  with  such 
mere  speaking  machines  !'* 

She  then  cast  around  her  eyes,  with 
a  look  of  silent,  but  pathetic  appeal  to 
the  sensibiHty  of  all  who  were  within 
sight,  against  this  unheard  of  indignity  j 
but  her  speech  was  soon  restored,  from 
mingled  wrath  and  surprise,  upon  per- 
ceiving her  favourite  young  negro  nearly 
suffocating  with  stifled  laughter,  though 
thrusting  both  his  knuckles  into  his  ca- 


(     241      ) 

pacious  mouth,  to  prevent  its  loud  ex- 
plosion. 

"  vSo  this  amuses  you,  does  it.  Sir? 
You  think  it  very  comical  ?  You  are  so 
kind  as  to  be  entertained,  are  you? 
How  happy  lam  to  give  you  so  much  plea- 
sure !  How  proud  I  ought  to  be  to  afford 
you  such  diversion  !  I  shall  make  it  my 
business  to  shew  my  sense  of  my  good 
fortune;  and,  to  give  you  a  proof,  Sir, 
of  my  desire  to  contribute  to  your  gaiety, 
to-morrow  miOrning  I  will  have  you 
shipped  back  to  the  West  Indies.  And 
there,  that  your  joy  may  be  complete,  I 
shall  issue  orders  that  you  may  be  striped 
till  you  jump,  and  that  you  m.ayjump, 
— you  little  black  imp  !  ^—between  every 
stripe!" 

The  foolish  mirth  of  poor  Mungo  was 
now  converted  into  the  fearfulest  dismay. 
He  dropt  upon  his  knees  to  implore 
forgiveness ;  but  he  was  peremptorily 
ordered  to  depart,  with  an  assurance 
that  he  should  keep  up  his  fine  spirits 
upon  bread  and  water  for  a  fortnight, 

VOL.  III.  M 


(       242       ) 

If  disgust,  now,  was  painted  upon 
every  feature  of  the  face  of  Juliet,  at 
this  mixture  of  forced  derision  with  but 
too  natural  inhumanity,  the  feeling 
which  excited  that  expression  was  by  no 
means  softened,  by  seeing  Mrs.  Ireton 
turn  next  to  the  timid  young  orphan, 
imperiously  saying,  "  And  you.  Ma'am, 
what  may  you  stand  there  for,  with 
your  hands  before  you  ?  Have  you  no- 
thing better  to  do  with  them  ?  Can't 
you  find  out  some  way  to  make  them 
more  useful  ?  or  do  you  hold  it  more 
fitting  to  consider  them  as  only  orna- 
mental ?  They  are  very  pretty,  to  be 
sure.  I  say  nothing  to  the  contrary  of 
that.  But  I  should  suppose  you  don't 
quite  intend  to  reserve  them  for  mere 
objects  of  admiration  ?  You  don't  abso- 
lutely mean,  I  presume,  to  devote  them 
to  the  painter's  eye  ?  or  to  destine  them 
to  the  sculptor's  chisel  ?  I  should  think 
not,  at  least.  I  should  imagine  not.  I 
beg  you  to  set  me  right  if  I  am  wrong." 
The  poor  little  girl,  staring,  and  look- 


(     243     ) 

ing  every  way  around  to  find  some 
meaning  for  what  she  did  not  compre- 
hend, could  only  utter  a  faint  "  Ma'am!*' 
in  a  tone  of  so  much  fear  and  distress, 
that  Juliet,  unable,  silently,  to  witness 
oppression  so  wanton,  came  forward 
to  say,  "  The  poor  child,  Ma'am,  only 
wishes  to  understand  your  commands, 
that  she  may  obey  them." 

"  O  !  they  are  not  clear,  I  suppose  ? 
They  are  too  abstruse,  I  imagine  ?" 
contemptuously  replied  Mrs.  Ireton. 
"  And  you,  who  are  kind  enough  to 
offer  yourself  for  my  companion ;  who 
think  yourself  sufficiently  accomplished 
to  amuse,  —  perhaps  instruct  me, — 
you,  also,  have  not  the  wdt  to  find  out, 
what  a  little  chit  of  aa  ordinary  girl  can 
do  better  with  her  hands,  than  to  stand 
still,  pulling  her  own  fingers  ?'* 

Juliet,  now,  believing  that  she  had 
discovered  what  was  meant,  kindly  took 
the  little  girl  by  the  arm,  and  pointed  to 
the  just  overturned  water-bason  of  the 
dog. 

U    2 


(      244      ) 

"  But  I  don't  know  where  to  get  a 
cloth,  Ma'am  ?"  said  the  child. 

"  A  cloth  ?  —  In  my  wardrobe,  to  be 
sure!"  cried  Mrs.  Ireton  ;  "  amongst 
my  gowns,  and  caps,  and  hats.  Where 
else  should  there  be  dirty  cloths,  and 
dusters,  and  dish-clouts  ?  Do  you  know 
of  any  other  place  where  they  are  likely 
to  be  found  ?     Why  don't  you  answer  ?" 

"  Ma'am  ?" 

"  You  never  heard,  perhaps,  of  such  a 
place  as  a  kitchen  ?  You  don't  know 
where  it  is  ?  nor  what  it  means  ?  You 
have  only  heard  talk  of  drawing- 
rooms,  dressing-rooms,  boudoirs?  or, 
perhaps,  sometimes,  of  a  corridor,  or  a 
vestibule,  or  an  anti-chamber  ?  But  no- 
thing beyond]  —  A  kitchen!  —  O,  iie, 
fie  1" 

Juliet  now  hurried  the  little  girl 
away,  to  demand  a  cloth  of  the  house- 
maid ;  but  the  moment  that  she  returned 
with  it,  Mrs.  Ireton  called  out,  "  And 
what  would  you  do,  now^  Ma'am  .? 
Make  yourself  all   dirt  and  filth,  that 


(     245     ) 

jou  may  go  back  to  your  school,  to 
shew  the  delicate  state  of  my  house? 
To  make  your  mistress,  and  all 
her  brats,  believe  that  I  Hve  in  a 
pig- s tie  ?  Or  to  spread  abroad  that  I 
have  not  servants  enough  to  do  my 
work,  and  that  I  seize  upon  you  to 
supply  their  place  ?  But  I  beg  your 
pardon  ;  perhaps  that  may  be  your  way 
to  shew  your  gratitude  ?  To  manifest 
your  sense  of  my  saving  you  from  the 
work-house  ?  to  reward  me  for  snatch- 
ing you  from  beggary,  and  want,  and 
starving  ?" 

The  poor  little  girl  burst  into  tears, 
but  courtsied,  and  quitted  the  room ; 
while  Mrs.  Ireton  called  after  her,  to 
desire  that  she  would  acquaint  her  go- 
verness, that  she  should  certainly  be  paid 
the  following  week. 

Juliet  now  stood  in  scarcely  less  dismay 
than  she  had  been  witnessing  all  around 
her  ;  panic-struck  to  find  herself  in  the 
power  of  a  person  whose  character  was 
so  wantonly  tyrannic  and  irascible. 
M  3 


(     246     ) 

The  fortunate  entiaiice  of  some  com- 
pany enabled  her,  for  the  present,  to 
retreat ;  and  to  demand,  of  one  of  the 
servants,  the  way  to  her  chamber. 


(     247     ) 


CHAPTER  LII. 

l^ROM  the  heightened  disgust  which 
she  now  conceived  against  her  new 
patroness,  Juliet  severely  repented  the 
step  that  she  had  taken.  And  if  her 
entrance  into  the  family  contributed  so 
little  to  her  contentment,  her  subsequent 
introduction  into  her  office  was  still  less 
calculated  to  exhilarate  her  spirits.  Her 
baggage  was  scarcely  deposited  in  a 
handsome  chamber,  of  which  the  hang- 
ings, and  decorations,  as  of  every  part 
of  the  mansion,  were  sumptuous  for  the 
spectator ;  but  in  which  there  was  a 
dearth  of  almost  every  thing  that  consti- 
tutes comfort  to  the  immediate  dweller  ; 
ere  she  was  summoned  back,  by  a  hasty 
order  to  the  drawing-room. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  who  was  reading  a  news- 
paper, did  not,  for  some  time,  raise  her 
head  ;  though  a  glance  of  her  eye  pro- 
M  4 


(     248     ) 

cured  her  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  that 
her  call  had  been  obeyed.  Juliet,  at 
first,  stood  modestly  waiting  for  com- 
mands ;  but,  receiving  none,  sat  down, 
though  at  an  humble  distance  ;  deter- 
mined to  abide  by  the  consequences,  be 
they  what  they  might,  of  considering 
herself  as,  at  least,  above  a  common 
domestic. 

This  action  shortened  the  term  of 
neglect ;  Mrs.  Ireton,  letting  the  news- 
paper fall,  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of 
affected  alarm,  "  Are  you  ill.  Ma'am  I 
Are  you  disordered  ?  I  hope  you  ar€  not 
subject  to  fits  ?" 

Juliet  coldly  answered  No. 

'*  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,  indeed ! 
Very  happy,  upon  my  word  !  I  was  afraid 
you  were  going  to  faint  away !  But  I 
find  that  you  are  only  delicate  ;  only 
fatigued  by  descending  the  stairs.  I 
ought,  indeed,  to  have  sent  somebody  to 
help  you ;  somebody  you  could  hava 
leant  upon  as  you  came  along.  I  was 
very  stupid  not  to  think  of  that.  I  hope 
you'll  pardon  me  ?" 


(     249     ) 

Juliet  looked    down,    but    kept  her 
place. 

.  Mrs.  Ireton,  a  little  nettled,  v/as  silent 
a  few  minutes,  and  then  said,  "  Pray, — 
if  I  may  ask, — if  it  will  not  be  too  great 
a  liberty  to  ask, —  what  have  been  your 
pursuits  since  I  had  the  honour  of  ac- 
companying you  to  London  ?  How  have 
you  passed  your  time  ?  I  hope  you  have 
found  something  to  amuse  you  ?" 

Juliet  sighed  a  negative. 

"  You  have  been  studying  the  fine 
arts,  I  am  told.  Painting  ?  —  Drawing  ? 
—  Sculpture  ?  —  or  what  is  it  ?  —  Some- 
thing of  that  sort,  I  am  informed.  Pray 
what  is  it,  Mrs.  Thing-a-mi  ?  —  I  am 
always  /orgetting  your  name.  Yet  you 
have  certainly  a  name ;  but  I  don't 
know  how  it  is,  I  can  never  remember 
it,  I  believe  I  must  beg  you  to  write  it 
down." 

Juliet  again  only  sighed. 

"  Perhaps  1  am  making  a  mistake  as 
to    your    occupations  ?     Very    likely    I 
may  be  quite  in  the  wrong  ?     Indeed  I 
M  5 


(   250   ) 

think  I  recollect,  now,  what  it  is  yon 
have  been  doing.  Acting  ?  —  That's  it. 
Is  it  not  ?  Pray  what  stage  did  you  come 
out  upon  first  ?  Did  you  begin  wearing 
your  itinerant  buskins  in  England,  or 
abroad  ?'^ 

"  Where  I  began,  Madam,  I  have 
ended  ;  at  Mrs.  Maple's.'' 

"  And  pray,  have  you  kept  that  same 
face  ever  since  I  saw  you  in  Grosvenor 
Square  ?  or  have  you  put  it  on  again 
only  now,  to  come  back  to  me  ?  I 
rather  suppose  you  have  made  it  last  the 
-whole  time.  It  would  be  very  expensive, 
I  apprehend,  to  change  it  frequently  :  it 
can  by  no  means  be  so  costly  to  keep  it 
only  in  repair.  How  do  you  put  on 
your  colours  ?  I  have  heard  of  somebody 
who  had  learnt  the  art  of  enamelling 
their  own  skin  :  is  that  your  method  ?" 

Waiting  vainly  for  an  answer,  she 
went  on. 

*«  Pray,  if  I  may  presume  so  far,  how 
old  are  you  ?  —  But  I  beg  pardon  for  so 
indiscreet  a  question,    I  did  not  reflect 


(     25.     ) 

upon  what  I  was  saying.  Very  possibly 
your  age  may  be  indefinable.  You  may 
be  a  person  of  another  century.  A 
wandering  Jewess.  I  never  heard  that 
the  old  Jew  had  a  wife,  or  a  mother,  who 
partook  of  his  longevity  ;  but  very  likely 
I  may  now  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
one  of  his  family  under  my  own  roof? 
That  red  and  white,  that  you  lay  on  so 
happily,  may  just  as  well  hide  the 
wrinkles  of  tv>'o  or  three  grand  climac- 
terics, as  of  only  a  poor  single  sixty  or 
seventy  years  of  age.  However,  these 
are  secrets  that  I  don't  presume  to 
enquire  into.  Every  trade  has  its 
mystery." 

These  splenetic  witticisms  producing 
no  reply,  Mrs.Ireton,  more  categorically, 
demanded,  "  Pray,  Ma'am,  pray  Mrs. 
What's-your-name,  will  you  give  me 
leave  to  ask  what  brings  you  to  my 
house  ?" 

"  Miss  Joddrel,  Madam,  informed  me 
that  you  desired  ray  attendance." 

"  Yes  y  but  with  what  view  ?" 
M  6 


(     252    ) 

Disconcerted  by  this  interrogatory, 
Juliet  stammeredj  but  cculd  devise  no 
answer. 

"  To  what  end,  what  purpose,  what 
intent,  I  say,  may  I  owe  the  honour  of 
your  presence  ?** 

The  ofnce  pointed  out  by  Eh'nor,  of 
an  humble  companion,  now  died  the 
clieeks  of  Juliet  with  shame;  but  resent- 
ment of  the  palpable  desire  to  hear  its 
mortifying  acknowledgement,  tied  her 
tongue  ;  and  though  each  of  the  follow- 
ing interrogatories  w^as  succeeded  by  a 
pause  that  demanded  a  reply,  she  could 
not  bring  herself  to  utter  a  word. 

"  You  are  hardly  come,  I  should 
imagine,  without  some  motive  :  I  may 
be  mistaken,  to  be  sure  ;  but  I  should 
hardly  imagine  you  would  take  the 
trouble  to  present  yourself  merely  to 
afford  me  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  ?  — 
Not  but  that  I  ought  to  be  extremely 
flattered  by  such  a  compliment.  'Twould 
be  vastly  amiable,  certainly.  A  lady 
of   your     indescribable     consequence! 


(     ^Sl     ) 

^Twoiild  be  difficult  to  me  to  shew  an 
adequate  sense  of  so  high  an  honour.  I 
am  distressed  at  the  very  thought  of  it.  — 
But  perhaps  you  may  have  some  other 
design  ?  — You  may  have  the  generosity 
to  intend  me  some  improvement  ?  —  You 
may  come  to  favour  me  v*^ith  some  les- 
sons of  declamation  ?  —  Who  knows  but 
you  may  propose  to  make  an  a-jtiess  of 
me  ?  —  Or  perhaps  to  instruct  me  how  to 
become  an  adept  in  your  own  favourite 
art  of  face-daubing  ?" 

At  least,  thought  Juliet,  I  need  not 
give  you  any  lessons  in  the  ai^t  of  in- 
geniously  tormenting!  There  you  are 
perfect ! 

"  What!  no  answer  yet  ?  — Am  I 
always  so  unfortunate  as  to  hit  upon 
improper  subjects  ?  —  To  ask  questions 
that  merit  no  reply  ?  —  I  am  quite  con- 
founded at  my  want  of  judgment !  Ex- 
cuse it,  I  entreat,  and  aid  me  out  of 
this  unprofitable  labyrinth  of  conjecture, 
by  telling  me,  at  once,  to  what  happy  in- 
spiration I  am  indebted  for  the  pleasure 
of  receiving  you  in  my  house  ?" 
3 


(     254     ) 

Juliet  pleaded  again  the  directions  of 
Miss  Joddrel. 

"  Miss  Joddrel  told  you  to  come, 
then,  only  to  come? — Only  to  shew 
yourself?  —  Well,  you  are  worth  looking 
at,  I  acknowledge,  to  those  who  have 
seen  you  formerly.  The  transformation 
must  always  be  curious :  I  only  hope 
vou  intend  to  renew  it,  from  time  to 
time,  to  keep  admiration  alive  ?  That 
pretty  face  you  exhibit  at  present,  may 
lose  its  charms,  if  it  should  become 
familiar.  When  shall  you  put  on  the 
other  again,  that  I  had  the  pleasure  to 
see  you  in  first  ?" 

Fatigued  and  spiritless,  Juliet  would 
have  retired  ;  but  Mrs.  Ireton  called 
after  her,  "  O  !  you  are  going,  are  you? 
Pray  may  I  take  the  liberty  to  ask 
whither  ?'' 

Again  Juliet  was  silent. 

"  You  mean  perhaps  to  repose  your- 
self?—  or,  maybe,  to  pursue  your 
studies?  —  or,  perhaps,  you  may  have 
some  visits  upon  your  hands  ? — And  you 
may  only  have  done  me  the  favour  to 


(    255    ) 

enter  my  house  to  find  time  to  follow 
your  humour  ?  —  You  may  think  it  suffi- 
cient honour  for  me,  that  I  may  be  at 
the  expence  of  your  board,  and  find  you 
in  lodging,  and  furniture,  and  fire,  and 
candles,  and  servants  ?  — you  may  hold 
this  ample  recompense  for  such  an  in- 
significant person  as  I  am  ?  I  ought  to 
be  much  obliged  to  Miss  Joddrel,  upon 
my  word,  for  bringing  me  into  such  dis- 
tinction  !  I  had  understood  her,  indeed, 
that  you  would  come  to  me  as  m.y 
humble  companion. '^ 

Juliet,  cruelly  shocked,  turned  away 
her  head. 

"  And  I  was  stupid  enough  to  sup- 
pose, that  that  meant  a  person  who  could 
be  of  some  use,  and  some  agreeability ; 
a  person  who  could  read  to  me  when  I 
was  tired,  and  who,  when  I  had  nobody 
else,  could  talk  to  me ;  and  find  out  a 
thousand  little  things  for  me  all  day 
long ;  coming  and  going ;  prating,  or 
holding  her  tongue ;  doing  every  thing 
she  was  bid  5  and  keeping  always  at 
hand/* 


C   256   ) 

Juliet,  colouring  at  this  true,  however 
insulting  description  of  what  she  had 
undertaken,  secretly  revolved  in  her 
mind,  how  to  renounce,  at  once,  an 
office  which  seemed  to  invite  mortifi- 
cation, and  license  sarcasm. 

"  But  I  perceive  I  was  mistaken  !  I 
perceive  I  knew  nothing  of  the  matter  ! 
It  only  means  a  fine  lady  !  a  lady  that's 
60  delicate  it  fatigues  her  to  w^alk  down 
stairs  ;  a  lady  who  is  so  independent, 
that  she  retires  to  her  room  at  pleasure ; 
a  lady  who  disdains  to  speak  but  when 
she  is  disposed,  for  her  own  satisfaction, 
to  talk  ;  a  lady " 

"  A  lady  who,  indeed,  Madam,''  said 
the  tired  Juliet,  "  weighed  too  little 
what  she  attempted,  when  she  hoped  to 
find  means  of  obtaining  your  favour  ; 
but  who  now  sees  her  errour,  and  en- 
treats at  once  your  pardon  and  dismis- 
sion.'* 

She  then  courtsied  respectfully,  but, 
though  called  back  even  with  vehe- 
mence, steadily  left  the  room. 


(     ^Sl     ) 

Not,  however,  with  triumph  did  she 
return  to  her  own.  The  justice  of  the 
sensibility  which  urged  her  retreat,  could 
not  obviate  its  imprudence,  or  avert  its 
consequences.  She  was  wholly  without 
friends,  without  money,  without  protec- 
tion, without  succour ;  and  the  horrour 
of  a  Ucentious  pursuit,  and  the  mischiefs 
menaced  by  calumniating  ill  wishers, 
still  made  a  lonely  residence  as  unsafe 
as  when  her  first  terrour  drove  her  to 
acquiesce  in  the  proposition  of  Elinor. 
Yet,  though  she  could  not  exult,  she 
could  not  repent :  how  desire,  how  even 
support  a  situation  so  sordid  ?  a  situation 
not  only  distressing,  but  oppressive  \  not 
merely  cruel,  but  degrading. 

She  was  preparing,  therefore,  for  im* 
mediate  departure,  when  she  was  stopt 
by  a  footman,  who  informed  her  that 
Mrs.  Ireton  demanded  to  see  her  without 
delay. 

The  expectation  of  reproach  made 
her  hesitate  whether  to  obey  this  order ; 
but  a  desire  not  to  have  the  air  of  merit- 


(     258     ) 

ing  it,  by  the  defiance  of  a  refusal,  led 
her  again  to  the  dressing-room. 

Here,  however,  to  her  great  surprise, 
instead  of  the  haughty  or  taunting  up- 
braidings  for  wh  *ch  she  was  prepared, 
slie  was  received  with  a  gracious  incli- 
nation of  the  head ;  while  the  footman 
was  told  1^  give  her  a  chair. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  then,  fixing  her  eyes 
upon  a  pamphlet  which  she  held  in  her 
hand  ;  that  she  might  avoid  taking  any 
notice  of  the  stiff  and  decided  air  with 
which  Juliet  stood  still,  though  amazed, 
said,  "  My  bookseller  has  just  sent  me 
something  to  look  at,  which  may  serve 
for  a  beginning  of  our  readings." 

Juliet  now  saw,  that,  however  im- 
periously she  had  been  treated,  Mrs. 
Ireton  had  no  intention  to  part  with 
her.  She  saw,  too,  that  that  lady  was 
amongst  the  many,  though  terrible  cha- 
racters, who  think  superiour  rank  or 
fortune  authorises  perverseness,  and 
legitimates  arrogance ;  who  hold  the 
display  of  ill  humour  to  be  the  display 


(     259     ) 

and  mark  of  power;  and  who  set  no 
other  boundary  to  their  pleasure  in  the 
art  of  tormenting,  than  that  which,  if 
passed,  might  endanger  their  losing  its 
object.  She  wished,  more  than  ever,  to 
avoid  all  connexion  with  a  nature  so 
wilfully  tyrannic ;  but  Mrs.  Ireton,  who 
read  in  her  dignified  demeanour,  that  a 
spirit  was  awakened  which  threatened 
the  escape  of  her  prey,  determined  to 
shun  any  discussion.  Suddenly,  there- 
fore, rising,  and  violently  ringing  the 
bell,  she  exclaimed,  "  I  dare  say  those 
fools  have  not  placed  half  the  things 
you  want  in  your  chamber ;  but  I  shall 
make  Whitly  see  immediately  that  all  is 
arranged  as  it  ought  to  be." 

She  then  gave  some  parading  direc- 
tions, that  Miss  Ellis  should  want  for 
nothing ;  and,  affecting  not  to  perceive 
the  palpable  design  of  Juliet  to  decline 
these  tardy  attentions,  graciously  nodded 
her  head,  and  passed  into  another 
room. 

Juliet,    not   absolutely   softened,   yet 


(     26o     ) 

somewhat  appeased,  again  hesitated.  A 
road  seemed  open,  by  some  exertion  of' 
spirit,  for  obtaining  better  treatment ; 
and  however  ungenial  to  her  feelings  was 
a  character  whose  humours  submitted  to 
no  restraint,  save  to  ensure  their  own 
lengthened  indulgence,  still,  in  appearing 
more  contemptible,  it  became  less  tre- 
mendous. 

She  began,  also,  to  see  her  office  as 
less  debasing.  Why,  she  cried,  should 
I  exaggerate  my  torments,  by  blindly 
giving  into  received  opinions,  without 
examining  whether  here,  as  in  all  things 
else,  there  may  not  be  exceptions  to 
general  rules  ?  A  sycophant  must  al- 
ways be  despicable ;  a  parasite  must 
eternally  deserve  scorn  ;  but  may  there 
not  be  a  possibility  of  uniting  the  affluent 
with  the  necessitous  upon  more  equitable 
terms  ?  May  not  some  medium  be  hit 
upon,  between  oppression  on  one  side, 
and  servility  on  the  other  ?  If  we  are 
not  worthless  because  indigent,  why 
conclude   ourselves  abject  because  de- 


(     26i      ) 

pendent  ?  Happiness,  indeed,  dwells 
not  with  undue  subordination  ;  but  the 
exertion  of  talents  in  our  own  service  can 
never  in  itself  be  vile.  It  can  only 
become  so,  where  it  is  mingled  and  con- 
taminated with  flattery,  with  unfitting 
obsequiousness,  and  unworthy  submis- 
sions. They  who  simply  repay  being 
sustained  and  protected,  by  a  desire  to 
please,  a  readiness  to  serve,  a  wish  to  in- 
struct ;  without  falsehood  in  their  coun- 
sels, without  adulation  in  their  civilities, 
without  meanness  in  their  manners  and 
conduct  ;  have  at  least  as  just  a  claim  to 
respect  and  consideration,  for  their  ser- 
vices and  their  labours,  as  those  who, 
merely  through  pecuniary  retribution, 
reap  their  fruits. 

This  idea  better  reconciled  her  with 
her  condition^  and  she  blessed  her 
happy  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Giles  Arbe, 
which  had  strengthened  her  naturally 
philosophical  turn  of  mind,  by  leading 
her  to  this  simple,  yet  useful  style  of 
reasoning. 


(       262       ) 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  propitious  to 
her  new  views.  The  storms  with  which 
it  had  begun  subsided,  and  a  calm  en- 
sued, in  which  Mrs.  Ireton  set  apart 
her  querulous  irascibility,  and  forbore 
her  contemptuous  interrogatories. 

The  servants  were  ordered  not  to 
neglect  Miss  Ellis ;  and  Miss  Ellis  re- 
ceived permission  to  carry  to  her  own 
apartment,  any  books  from  off  the 
piano  forte  or  tables,  that  might  con- 
tribute to  her  amusement. 

Juliet  was  not  of  a  character  to  take 
advantage  of  a  moment  of  concession, 
even  in  an  enemy.  The  high  and  grave 
deportment,  therefore,  which  had  thus 
happily  raised  alarm,  had  no  sooner 
answered  its  purpose,  than  she  suffered 
it  to  give  place  to  an  air  of  gentleness, 
more  congenial  to  her  native  feelings  : 
and,  the  next  morning,  subduing  her 
resentment,  and  submitting,  with  the 
best  grace  in  her  power,  to  the  business 
of  her  office,  she  cheerfully  proposed 
reading  ;  complied  with  the  first  request 


i    ^^3    ) 

that  was  made  her  to  play  upon  the 
piano-forte  and  the  harp ;  and  even,  to 
sing  ;  though,  not  so  promptly  ;  for  her 
voice  and  sensibility  were  less  ductile 
than  her  manners.  But  she  determined 
to  leave  nothing  untried,  that  could 
prove,  that  it  was  not  more  easy  to 
stimulate  her  pride  by  indignity,  than 
to  animate  her  desire  to  oblige  by  mild 
usage. 

This  resolution  on  her  part,  which  the 
fear  of  losing  her,  on  that  of  Mrs.  Ireton, 
gave  time  to  operate,  brought  into  play 
so  many  brilliant  accomplishments,  and 
opened  to  her  patroness  such  sources  of 
amusement,  that,  while  Juliet  began  to 
hope  she  had  found  a  situation  which 
she  might  sustain  till  her  suspences 
should  be  over,  Mrs.  Ireton  conceived 
that  she  had  met  with  a  treasure,  which 
might  rescue  her  unoccupied  hours  from 
weariness  and  spleen. 


(     2^4     ) 


CHAPTER  LIIL 

npHIS  delusion,  unfortunately,  was  not 
of  long  duration  on  either  side. 
Mrs.  Ireton  no  sooner  observed  that 
Juliet  appeared  to  be  settled,  than  all 
zest  for  detaining  her  ceased  ;  no  sooner 
became  accustomed  to  hearing  at  will 
the  harp,  or  the  piano-forte,  than  she 
found  something  to  say,  or  to  do,  that 
interrupted  the  performance  every  four 
or  five  bars  ;  and  had  no  sooner  secured 
a  reader  whose  voice  she  could  command 
at  pleasure,  than  she  either  quarrelled 
with  every  book  that  was  begun  ;  or 
yawned,  or  fondled  and  talked  aloud  to 
her  little  lap  dog,  during  the  whole  time 
that  any  work  was  read. 

This  quick  abatement  in  the  power  of 
pleasing,  was  supported  by  Juliet  with 
indifference     rather     than    philosophy. 
Where  interest  alone  is  concerned,  dis- 


C   265   ) 

appointment  is  rarely  heavy  with  the 
young  and  generous.  Age,  or  misfor- 
tune, must  teach  the  value  of  pecuniary 
considerations,  to  give  them  force.  Yet, 
though  no  tender  affections/no  cherished 
hopes,  no  favourite  feelings  were  in  the 
power  of  Mrs.  Ireton,  every  moment  of 
time,  and  consequently  all  means  of 
comfort,  were  at  her  disposal.  Juliet 
languished,  therefore,  though  she  would 
not  repine ;  and  though  she  was  not 
afflicted  at  heart,  she  sickened  with 
disgust. 

The  urgency  of  finding  security  from 
immediate  insult  and  want,  induced  her, 
nevertheless,  to  persevere  in  her  fortitude 
for  supporting,  and  her  efforts  for  amelio- 
rating her  situation.  But,  the  novelty 
over,  all  labour  was  vain,  all  success  w^as 
at  an  end;  and,  in  a  very  short  time,  she 
would  have  contributed  no  more  to  the 
expulsion  of  spleen,  than  any  other  in- 
mate of  the  house;  had  not  her  superiour 
acquirements  opened  a  more  extensive 
field  for  the    exercise  of  tyranny  and 

VOL.  III.  N 


(     266     ) 

caprice.  And  in  that  exercise  alone, 
Juliet  soon  saw,  consisted  every  sensa- 
tion of  pleasure  of  which  Mrs.  Ireton  was 
susceptible. 

Of  the  many  new  tasks  of  Juliet,  that 
which  she  found  the  most  severe,  was 
inventing  amusement  for  another  wliile 
sad  and  dispirited  herself.  It  was  her 
duty  to  be  always  at  hand,  early  or  late ; 
it  was  her  business  to  fnrnisli  entertain- 
ment, whetiier  sick  or  well.  Success, 
therefore,  was  unacknowledged,  tliough 
failure  was  resented.  There  was  no  re- 
laxation to  her  toil,  no  rest  for  her 
person,  no  recruit  for  her  spirits.  From 
her  sleep  alone  she  could  purloin  the 
few  minutes  that  she  dedicated  to  her 
pen  and  her  Gabriella. 

If  a  new  novel  excited  interest,  or  a 
political  pamphlet  aw^akened  curiosity, 
she  was  called  upon  to  read  whole  hours, 
tiay,  whole  days,  without  intermission  ; 
even  a  near  extinction  of  voice  did  not 
authorize  so  great  a  liberty  as  that  of 
requesting  a  few  minutes  for  rest.  Mr&. 
Ireton,  who  regarded  all  the  world  as 


(    267    ) 

robust,  compared  with  herself,  deemed 
it  an  impertinent  rivahy  of  a  delicacy 
which  she  held  to  be  unexampled,  ever 
to  pronounce  the  word  fatigue,  ever  to 
heave  a  sigh  of  lassitude,  or  ever  even  to 
allude  to  that  part  of  the  human  frame- 
which  is  called  nerves,  unless  with  some- 
pointed  reference  to  herself. 

With  the  same  despotic  hardness,  she- 
ordered  Juliet  to  the  harp,  or  piano-forte, 
and  made  her  play  though  she  were  suf- 
fering from  the  acutest  head-ache ;  and 
sing  when  hoarse  and  short-breathed 
from  the  most  violent  cold.  Yet  these 
commands,  however  arbitrary  and  un- 
feeling, were  more  supportable  than 
those  with  which,  after  every  other 
source  of  tyrannic  authority  had  beea 
drained,  the  day  was  ordinarily  con- 
cluded. Mrs.  Ireton,  at  the  hour  of  re- 
tiring, when  weary  alike  of  books  and  of 
music,  listless,  fretful,  captious ;  too 
sleepy  for  any  exertion,  yet  too  wake- 
ful or  uneasy  for  repose ;  constantly 
brought  ioTward  the  same  enquiries 
:n  2 


(     268     ) 

which  had  so  often  been  urged  and  re- 
pelled, in  the  week  that  they  had  spent 
together  upon  their  arrival  from  France; 
repeated  the  same  sneers5revived  the  same 
suspicions,  and  recurred  to  the  same  rude 
interrogatories  or  offensive  insinuations. 

At  meals,  the  humble  companion  wa& 
always  helped  last;  even  when  there 
were  gentlemen,  even  when  there  were 
children  at  the  table ;  and  always  to 
what  was  worst;  to  what  was  rejected,  as 
ill-cooked,  or  left,  as  spoilt  and  bad.  No 
question  was  ever  asked  of  what  she 
chose  or  what  she  disliked.  Sometimes 
she  was  even  utterly  forgotten ;  and, 
as  no  one  ventured  to  remind  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton  of  any  omission,  her  helpless  protegee^ 
upon  such  occasions,  rose  half  famished 
from  the  inhospitable  board. 

Upon  the  entrance  of  any  visitors, 
not  satisfied  to  let  the  humble  com- 
panion  glide  gently  away,  the  haughty 
patroness  called  out,  in  a  tone  of  corn- 
mand,  "  You  may  go  to  your  room  now: 
I  shall  send  for  you  when  I  am  at  leisure," 


(    269    ) 

Or,  "  You  may  stand  at  the  window  if 
you  will.  You  w^on't  be  in  the  way, 
I  believe  j  and  I  shall  want  you  pre- 
sently/* 

Or,  if  she  feared  that  any  one  of  the 
party  had  failed  to  remark  this  aug- 
mentation of  her  household  and  of  her 
power,  she  would  retard  the  willing  de- 
parture by  some  frivolous  and  vexatious 
commission  ;  as^  "  Stop,  Miss  Ellis  5  do 
pray  tie  this  string  a  little  tighter."  Or, 
"  Draw  up  my  gloves  a  little  higher : 
but  be  so  good  as  not  to  pinch  me  ; 
unless  you  have  a  particular  fancy  for 
it  V 

If,  drily,  though  respectfully,  Juliet 
ever  proposed  to  wait  in  her  own  room, 
the  answer  was,  "  In  your  own  room  ? 
O,  —  ay  —  well,  —  that  may  be  better! 
I  beg  your  pardon  for  having  proposed 
that  you  should  wait  in  one  of  mine  !  I 
beg  your  pardon  a  thousand  times!  I 
really  did  not  think  of  what  I  was 
saying !  I  hope  you'll  forgive  my  in- 
Mtention !" 

N    X 


(       270       ) 

A^^HetiHHeii, 'silently,  aiid  witli  diffi- 
culty forbeafing  from  shrugging  her 
sl^oulders,  Juh'et  walked  away,  she  was 
again  stoptby,"  One  momentjMissElIis! 
if  it  won't  be  requesting  too  great  a  favour. 
Pray,  when  I  want  you,  where  may  I 
ii^ar  of  your  servants  ?  For  to  be  sure 
you  don't  mean  that  mine  should  scamper 
up  and  down  all  day  long  for  you  ?  You 
cannot  mean  that.  You  must  have  a 
lackey  of  your  own,  no  doubt :  some 
page,  or  spruce  fool-boy  at  your  com- 
mand, to  run  upon  your  errands  :  only 
pray  let  some  of  my  people  know  where 
he  may  be  met  with." 

But  if,  when  the  purpose  was  an- 
swered of  drawing  the  attention  of  her 
guests  upon  her  new  dependent,  that 
attention  were  followed  by  any  looks  of 
approbation,  or  marks  of  civility,  she 
hastily  exclaimed,  "  O,  pray  don't 
disturb  yourself,  Sir  !^'  or  "  IVIa'am  i  'tis 
only  a  young  woman  I  have  engaged  to 
read  tb  mt' j^-^  a  young  person  whom  I 
Jtave  taken  into  my  house  out  of  com- 


(     -71     ) 

passion.'*  And  then,  affably  nodding^ 
she  would  affect  to  be  suddenly  struck 
with  something  which  she  had  ah'eady 
repeatedly  seen,  and  cry,  "  Well,  I  de- 
clare, that  gown  is  not  ugly.  Miss  Ellis  ! 
How  did  you  come  by  it  ?'*  or,  "  That 
ribbon's  pretty  enough :  who  gave  it 
you  ?'* 

Ah,  thought  Juliet,  'tis  conduct 
such  as  this  that  makes  inequality  of 
fortune  baleful !  Where  superiour  wealth 
falls  into  liberal  hands,  — where  its  pos- 
sessor is  an  Aurora  Granville,  it  proves 
a  good  still  more  to  the  surrounders 
than  to  the  owners ;  "  it  blesses  those 
that  give,  and  those  that  take."  —  But 
Oh  !  where  it  is  misused  for  the  pur- 
poses of  bowing  down  the  indigent,  of 
oppressing  the  helpless,  of  triumphing 
over  the  dependent,  —  then,  how  baneful 
then  is  inequality  of  fortune  ! 

-With  tiiese  thoughts,  and  deeply 
hurt,  she  was  tvv^enty  tunes  upon  the 
point  of  retiring,  during  the  first  week  of 
her  distasteful  office ;  but  the  sameness 

N    4 


(       272       ) 

of  the  offences  soon  robbed  the  mortifi- 
cations  of  their  poignancy  ;  and  apathy., 
in  a  short  time,  taking  place  of  sensi- 
bihty,  she  learnt  to  bear  them  if  not 
with  indifference,  at  least  with  its  pre- 
cursor contempt. 

Amongst  the  most  irksome  of  the 
toils  to  which  this  subjection  made  her 
liable,  was  the  care,  —  not  of  the  educa- 
tion, nor  mind,  nor  manners,  but  of  the 
amusements,  — •'  of  the  little  nephew  of 
Mrs.  Ireton  ;  whom  that  lady  rather  ex- 
ulted than  blushed  to  see  universally  re- 
garded as  a  spoilt  child. 

The  temper  of  this  young  creature 
was  grown  so  capricious,  from  incessant 
indulgence,  that  no  compliance,  no 
luxury,  no  diversion  could  afford  him 
more  than  momentary  pleasure  5  while 
his  passions  were  become  so  ungovern- 
able, that,  upon  every  contrariety  or  dis- 
appointment, he  vented  his  rage,  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  his  force,  upon  whom- 
soever, or  whatsoever,  animate  or  inani- 
mate, he  could  reach. 


C     ^73     ) 

Ail  the  mischief  thus  committed,  the 
injuries  thus  sustained,  the  noise  and 
disturbance  tluis  raised,  were  to  be  borne 
throughout  the  house  without  a  murmur. 
Whatever  destruction  he  caused,  Mrs. 
Ireton  was  always  sure  was  through  the 
fault  of  some  one  else ;  what  he  muti- 
lated, or  broke,  she  had  equal  certainty 
must  have  been  merely  by  accident  5  and 
those  he  hurt  or  ill  used,  must  have  pro- 
voked his  anger.  If  any  one  ventured 
to  complain,  'twas  the  sufferer,  not  the 
infiictor  who  was  treated  as  culpable. 

It  was  the  misfortune  of  Juliet  to  ex- 
cite, by  her  novelty,  the  attention  of  this 
young  tyrant ;  and  by  her  powers  of 
entertainment,  exerted  inadvertently, 
from  a  love  of  obliging,  to  become  his 
favourite.  The  hope  of  softening  his 
temper  and  manners,  by  amusing  his 
mind,  had  blinded  her,  at  first,  to  the 
trouble,  the  torment  rather,  of  such  pre- 
eminence, which  soon  proved  one  of  the 
most  serious  evils  of  her  situation.  Mrs. 
Ireton,  having  raised  in  his  young  bosom 

^  5 


C    ^7#    ) 

expectations  never  to  be  realised,  by 
passing  the  impossible  decree,  that  no- 
thing must  be  denied  to  her  eldest 
brother's  eldest  son ;  had  authorised 
demands  from  him,  and  licensed  wishes, 
destructive  both  to  his  understanding 
and  his  happiness.  When  the  difficulties 
which  this  decree  occasioned,  devolved 
upon  a  domestic,  she  left  him  to  get  rid 
of  them  as  he  could ;  only  reserving  to 
herself  the  right  to  blame  the  way  that 
was  taken,  be  it  what  it  might:  but 
when  the  embarrassment  fell  to  her  own 
Jot;  when  the  spoilt  urchin  claimed 
what  was  every  way  unattainable;  she 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  sending  him 
abroad,  for  the  immediate  relief  of  her 
nerves.  The  favour  into  which  he  took 
Juliet  now  offered  a  new  and  more  con- 
venient resource.  Instead  of  "  Order 
the  carriage,  and  let  the  child  go  out :" 
Miss  Ellis  was  called  upon  to  play  with 
him ;  to  tell  him  stories ;  to  shew  him 
pictures  ;  to  build  houses  for  him  with 
cards ;  or  to  suffer  herself  to  be  dragged 


(     275    ) 

unmeaningly,  yet  wilfully  and  forcibly, 
from  walk  to  walk  in  the  garden,  or 
from  room  to  room  in  the  house ;  till 
tired,  and  quarrelling  even  with  her 
compliance,  he  recruited  his  wearied 
caprices  with  sleep,    i  nK'^ 

Nor  even  here  ended  the  encroach- 
ments upon  her  time,  her  attention,  her 
liberty  ;  not  only  the  spoilt  child,  but 
the  favourite  dog  was  put  under  her 
superintendence  ;  and  she  was  instruct- 
ed.' to  .  take  charge  of  the  airings  and 
exercise  of  Bijou  ;  and  to  carry  him 
where  the  road  was  roudi  or  mirv, 
that  he  might  not  soil  those  paws,  winch 
had  the  exclusive  privilege  of  touching 
the  lady  of  the  mansion  ;  and  even  of 
pulling,  patting,  and  scratching  her  robes 
and  attire  ibr  his  recreation. 

To  many,  in  the  place  of  Juliet,  the 
spoilt  child  and  the  spoilt  cur  would 
kave  been  objects  of  detestation  :  bu-t 
against  the  mere  instruments  of  malice 
.?he  harboured  no  resentment.  The 
dog,  though  snarling  and  snapping  at 
N  6 


C  276   ) 

every  one  but  his  mistress,  Juliet  saw  as 
vicious  only  from  evil  habits,  which  were 
imbibed,  nay  taught,  rather  than  natural: 
the    child,   though    wantonly  revelling 
in  mischief   of  every   kind,  she  consi- 
dered but  as  a  little  savage,  who,  while 
enjoying  the  splendour   and   luxury  of 
civilized  life,  was  as  unformed,  as  rough, 
as  untaught,  and  therefore  as  little  re- 
sponsible  for    his    conduct,   as   if  just 
caught,  and  brought,  wild  and  untamed, 
from  the  woods.     The  animal,  therefore, 
glie  exculpated  ;  the  child  she   pitied ; 
it  was  the  mistress  of  the  mansion  alone, 
•who,  wilful  in  all  she  did,  and  conscious 
of  all  she   inflicted,  prt)voked   bitterer 
feelings.      And  to    these,   the  severest 
poignancy   was    accidentally    added   to 
Juliet,  by  the  cruel  local   circumstance 
of  receiving  continual  indignity  in  the 
very  house,  nay  the  very  room,  where, 
^in   sweetest  intercourse,   she  had  been 
accustomed  to  be   treated  upon   terms 
of  generous   equality  by  Lady  Aurora 
Granville. 


(     '^17    ) 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

JULIET  had  passed  but  a  short  space, 
by  the  measure  of  time,  in  this  new 
residence,  though  by  that  of  suffering 
and  disgust  it  had  seemed  as  long  as  it 
was  irksome,  when,  one  morning,  she 
was  informed,  by  the  nursery-maid,  that 
a  grand  breakfast  was  to  be  given,  about 
two  o'clock,  to  all  the  first  gentry  in  and 
near  Brighthelmstone. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  herself,  making  no  men- 
tion of  any  such  purpose,  issued  her 
usual  orders  for  the  attendance  of  Julietj 
with  her  implements  of  amusement ;  and 
went,  at  an  early  hour,  to  a  light  build- 
ing, called  the  Temple  of  the  Sun,  which 
overlooked  the  sea,  from  the  end  of  the 
garden. 

This  Temple,  like  every  place  which 
Mrs.  Ireton  capriciously,  and  even  for 
the  shortest  interval,  inhabited,  was  now 


(    278     ) 

filled  with  materials  for  recreation,  which, 
ingeniously  employed,  might  have  whiled 
away  a  winter  ;  but  which,  from  her 
fluctuating  whims,  were  insufficient  even 
for  the  fleet  passage  of  a  few  hours. 
Books,  that  covered  three  window- seats; 
songs  and  sonatas  that  covered  those 
books  ;  various  pieces  of  needle-work  ; 
n  billiard-table  ;  a  chess-board  ;  a  back- 
gammon-board ;  a  cup  and  ball,  &c. 
kc. ;  all,  in  turn,  were  tried  ;  all,  in 
turn,  rejected;  and  invectives  the  most 
impatient  were  uttered  against  each,  as 
it  ceased  to  ai%rd  her  pleasure ;  as  if 
each,  with  living  malignity,  had  studied 
to  cause  her  disappointment.  ;  1 , 

About  noon,  she  took  the  arm  of  Ju- 
liet, to  descend  the  steps  of  the  Temple. 
Upon  opening  the  door,  Ireton  ap- 
peared sauntering  in  the  garden.  Juliet 
vexed  at  his  sight,  which  Elinor  had 
assured  her  that  she  would  never  en- 
counter, severely  felt  the  mortification 
of  being  seen  in  her  pre&ent  situation, 
by  one  who  had  so  repeatedly  offended 


(     ^79    ) 

her  by  injurious  suspicions,  and  familiar 
impertinence. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  hastily  relinquishing  tlie 
arm  of  Juliet,  from  expecting  that  of 
her  son,  at  whose  sight  she  was  evidently 
surprised  ;  now  resolved,  with  her  most 
brilliant  flourishes,  to  exhibit  the  new 
object  of  her  power. 

"  Why  don't  you  take  care  of  tliC 
child.  Miss  Ellis?"  she  cried  aloud. 
"  Do  you  design  to  let  him  break  his 
neck  down  the  stone  steps  ?  I  beg  your 
pardon,  though,  for  asking  the  question. 
It  may  be  very  mal  d  propos.  It  may  be 
necessary,  perhaps,  to  some  of  your 
plans,  to  see  a  tragedy  in  real  life  r  You 
may  have  some  work  in  agitation,  that 
may  require  that  sort  of  study.  I  am 
sorry  to  have  stood  so  unopportunely  in 
your  way :  quite  ashamed,  upon  my 
word,  to  have  prevented  your  taking  a 
few  hints  from  tlie  child's  dislocating  a 
limb,  or  two;  or  just  fracturing  his  skull. 
^Twould  have  been  a  pretty  melanclioly 
sight,  enough,  for  an  elegiac  muse,     I 


(     28o     ) 

really  beg  your  pardon,  for  being  so  uh- 
cooth,  as  to  think  of  such  a  trumpery 
circumstance  as  saving  the  child's  life." 

Juliet,  during  this  harangue,  assi- 
duously followed  the  young  gentleman  ; 
who,  with  a  shout  of  riotous  rebellion^ 
ran  dowm  the  steps,  and  jumping  into  a 
parterre,  selected,  by  his  eye,  the  most 
beautiful  of  the  flowers  for  treading 
under  his  feet ;  and,  at  every  represen- 
tation of  Juliet,  flung  at  her  as  many 
pinksy  carnations,  and  geraniums,  as  his 
merciless  little  fingers  could  grasp. 

Ireton,  approaching,  looked  smilingly 
on,  neghgently  nodding,  and  calling  out, 
<«  Well  done,  Loddard !  Bravo,  my  little 
Pickle !" 

Loddard,  determined  to  merit  this 
honourable  testimony  of  his  prowess, 
continued  his  sport,  with  augmented 
boldness.  His  wantonness,  however, 
though  rude,  was  childish  ;  Juliet,  there- 
fore, though  tormented,  gave  it  no 
serious  resentment ;  but  she  w^as  not 
equally  indifferent  to  the  more  maturely 


C   381    ) 

malicious  insolence  of  Ireton,  who, 
while  he  openly  enjoyed  the  scene, 
negligently  said  to  Loddard,  "  What, 
my  boy,  hast  got  a  new  nurse  ?" 

Mrs,  Ireton,  having  stood  some  time 
leaning  upon  the  balustrade  of  the  steps 
which  she  was  descending,  in  vain  ex- 
pectation of  the  arm  of  her  son,  who 
had  only  slightly  bowed  to  her,  with  an 
^  How  do  do.  Ma'am  ?"  to  which  he 
waited  not  for  an  answer ;  now  indig- 
nantly called  out,  "  So  I  am  to  be  left 
to  myself,  am  I?  In  this  feeble  and 
alarming  state  to  which  I  am  reduced, 
incapable  to  withstand  a  gust  of  wind, 
or  to  baffle  the  fail  of  a  leaf,  I  may  take 
care  of  myself,  may  I  ?  I  am  too  stout 
to  require  any  attention  ?  too  robust, 
too  obstreperous  to  need  any  help  ?  If 
I  fall  down,  I  may  get  up  again,  I 
suppose  ?  If  I  faint,  I  may  come  to 
myself  again,  I  imagine  ?  You  will  have 
the  goodness  to  permit  that,  I  presume  ? 
I  may  be  mistaken,  to  be  sure,  but  I 
should  presume  so.     Don't  you  hear  me, 


(     282     ; 

^Mistress  Ellis  ?  But  you  are  deaf,  mar 
be  ?  —  I  am  alarmed  lo  the  last  degree  ! 
—  You  are  suddeniy  seized,  perhaps, 
with  tlie  loss  oi"  one  of  your  senses  ?" 

This  attack,  begun  for  her  son,  though, 
upon  his  rompiijg  with  the  little  boy,  iu 
total  disregard  to  its  reproacii,  ending 
for  Juhet,  made  Ireton  now,  throwing 
back  his  liead,  to  stare,  wath  a  sneering 
half-laugh,  at  Juliet,  exclaim,  "  Fie, 
Mrs.  Betty !  How  can  you  leave  Mrs. 
Ireton,  unaided,  in  such  peril?  Fie,  Mrs. 

Polly,  fie  !   Mrs What  is  your  new 

nurse's  name,  my  boy  ?" 

The  boy,  who  never  held  his  tongu-e 
but  when  he  was  desired  to  speak,  would 
make  no  answer,  but  by  running  vio- 
lently after  Juliet,  as  slie  sought  to  es- 
cape  from  him  ;  flinging  flowers,  leaves, 
grass,  or  whatever  he  could  find,  at 
her,  with  boisterous  shouts  of  laughter, 
and  with  all  his  little  might, 

Mrs.  Ireton,  brought  nearly  to  good 
humour  by  the  sight  of  the  perplexity 
^pd  displeasure  of  Juliet,  only  utter<^d» 


i  ^-83  ) 

"  Pretty  dear  !  bow  playflil  he  Is  !"  But 
when,  made  still  more  daring  by  this 
applause,  the  little  urchin  ventured  to 
touch  the  hem  of  her  own  garments,  she 
became  suddenly  sensible  of  his  diso- 
bedience and  wanton  mischief,  and 
commanded  him  from  her  presence. 

As  careless  of  her  wrath  as  he  was  un- 
gi'ateful  for  her  favour,  the  young  gentle- 
man thought  of  nothing  so  little  as  of 
obedience.  He  jumped  and  skipped 
around  her,  in  bold  defiance  of  all  au- 
thority ;  laughing  loudly  in  her  face  ; 
making  a  thousand  rude  grimaces  ;  yet 
screaming,  as  if  attacked  by  a  miirderer, 
when  she  attempted  to  catch  him  ; 
though,  the  moment  that  lie  forced  liirn- 
self  out  of  her  reach,  hallooing  his 
joyous  triumph  in  her  ears,  Vvith  vo- 
ciferous  exultation. 

Juliet  v;as  ordered  to  take  him  in 
hand,  and  carry  him  off ;  an  order 
which,  to  quit  the  scene,  she  prepared 
with  pleasure  to  obey  :  but  th.e  young 
gentleman,  though  he  pursued  her  with 


(     284     ) 

fatiguing  fondness  when  she  sought  to 
avoid  him,  now  ran  wildly  away. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  enraged,  menaced  per- 
sonal chastisement ;  but,  upon  his  dart- 
ing  at  Juliet,  and  tearing  her  gown, 
she  turned  abruptly  aside,  in  the  appre- 
hension of  being  called  upon  for  repara- 
tion J  and,  gently  saying,  "  What  a 
frisky  little  rogue  it  is !"  affected  to 
observe  him  no  longer. 

The  torn  robe  proved  a  potent  attrac- 
tion to  the  little  dog,  who,  yelping  with 
unmeaning  fury,  flew  at  and  began  gnaw- 
ing it,  with  as  riiuch  vehemence,  as  if  its 
destruction  were  essential  to  his  well 
being. 

A  party  of  company  was  now  an- 
nounced, that  begged  to  join  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton  in  tiie  garden;  and,  tripping  fore- 
most from  the  advancing  throng,  came 
Selina. 

Ireton,  flapping  his  hat  over  his  eyes, 
leisurely  sauntered  away.  Mrs.  Ireton 
returned  to  the  Temple,  to  receive  her 
guests    with    more    state ;     and   Juliet 


(     285    ) 

hoping,  thougli  doubtfully,  some  relief 
and  countenance,  bent  forward  to  greet 
her  young  friend. 

Selina,  with  a  look  of  vivacity  and 
pleasure,  eagerly  approached  ;  but  while 
her  hands  were  held  out,  in  affectionate 
amity,  and  her  eyes  invited  Juliet  to  meet 
her,  she  stopt,  as  if  from  some  sudden 
recollection  ;  and,  after  taking  a  hasty 
glance  around  her,  picked  a  flower  from 
a  border  of  the  parterre,  and  ran  back 
with  it  to  present  to  Lady  Arramede. 

Juliet,  scarcely  disappoirrted,  retreat- 
ed ;  and  the  party  advanced  in  a  body. 
She  would  fain  have  hidden  herself,  but 
had  no  power  ;  the  boy,  with  romping 
violence,  forcibly  detaining  her,  by  loud 
shrieks,  which  rent  the  air,  when  she 
struggled  to  disengage  herself  from  his 
hold.  And,  as  every  visitor,  however 
stunned  or  annoyed,  uttered,  in  approach- 
inghim,  the  admiring  epithets  of'-  Dear 
little  creature  1"  "  Sweet  little  love  !'* 
"  Pretty  little  dear!"  &c.  the  boy,  in  com- 
mon  with  children  of  a  larger  growth, 

^3 


(     286     ) 

concluding  praise  to  be  approbation, 
flung  himself  upon  Juliet,  with  all  his 
force;  protesting  that  he  would  give  her 
a  green  gown :  while  all  the  company,— 
upon  Mrs.  Ireton's  appearing  at  an  open 
window  of  the  Temple,  —  unanimously 
joined  in  extolling  his  strength,  his 
agility,  and  his  spirited  character. 

The  wearied  and  provoked  Juliet  now 
seriously  and  strenuously  sought  to  dis- 
<3ngage  herself  from  the  stubborn  young 
athletic;  but  he  clung  round  her  waist, 
and  was  jumping  up  at  her  shoulders,  to 
catch  at  trie  ribbon  of  her  hat,  when  Lady 
Kendover  and  her  niece,  who  were  tlie 
last  of  the  company  that  arrived,  entered 
the  garden. 

Lady  Barbara  Frankland  no  sooner 
perceived  Juliet,  and  her  distress,  than, 
swift  as  the  wind,  breaking  from  her 
atuit,  she  flew  forv;ard  to  give  her  suc- 
cour; seizing  the  sturdy  little  assailant 
by  iiis  arms,  when  unprepared  to  defend 
himself,  and  twisting  him,  adroitly,  from 
his  prey ;  exclaiming,  "  You  spoilt  little 

5 


C   2S7   ) 

\ricked  creature,  beg  pardon  of  that 
lovely  Miss  Ellis  directly!  this  moment!'* 
,  «^  Ellis  !  Dear,  if  it  is  not  Ellis  !"  cried 
Selina,  now  joining  them.  "  How  glad 
I  am  to  see  yoa,  my  dear  Ellis  !  What  art 
age  it  is  since  we  met!" 

Juliet,  whose   confidence   was   some- 
what more  than  staggered  in  the  regard 
of  vSeiina,  coldly  courtsied  to  her ;   while, 
with   the  warmest  gratitude,  she  began 
expressing  her  acknowledgements  for  the 
prompt  and  generous  kindness  of  Lady 
Barbara;  when  the  boy,  recovering  from 
his  surprise,  and  furious  at  any  controul, 
darted  at  her   ladyship  with  vindictive 
violence;  attempting,  and  intending,  to 
practise  upon  her  the  same  feats  which 
bad    nearly    subdued   Juliet:     but   the 
situation  was  changed:  the  exclamations 
^vere   reversed  ;    and  "  O,  you  naughty 
little  thing!*'     "  How  can    you   be   so 
rude  ?"    "  Fie,  child,  fie!"  were  echoed 
from  mouth  to  mouth  ;  while  every  step 
bent  forward  to  protect   "  poor   Lady 
Barbara'*   from    tlixi   troublesome     little 
creature. 


(     288     ) 

The  boy  was  then  seriously  made  ovet' 
to  his  maid,  to  be  new  dressed  ;  with  a 
pronijise  of  peaelses  and  sugar  plums, 
if  he  would  be  so  very  good  a  child, 
as  to  submit  to  the  repugnant  operations 
of  his  toilette,  without  crying  or  fighting. 

The  butler  now  appeared,  to  announce 
that  the  breakfast  was  ready ;  and 
Juliet  saw  confirmed,  that  the  party  had 
been  invited  and  expected;  though  Mrs. 
Ireton  meant  to  impress  her  with  the 
magnificent  idea,  that  this  was  her  com- 
mon way  of  life. 

The  company  all  re-entered  the  house, 
and  all  without  taking  the  smallest  no- 
tice of  Juliet ;  Lady  Barbara  excepted, 
who  affectionately  shook  hands  with  her, 
and  warmly  regretted  that  she  did  not 
join  the  party. 

Juliet,  to  whom  the  apparent  mystery 
of  her  situation  offered  as  much  apology 
for  others,  as  it  brought  distress  to 
herself,  went  back,  far  more  hurt  than 
offended  to  the  Temple. 

Hence,  presently,  from  under  one  of 


(     289    ) 

the  window^,  slie  beard  a  weak,  but 
fretful  and  angry  voice,  morosely  giving 
impatient  reprimands  to  some  servant, 
while  imperiously  refusing  to  listen  to 
even  the  most  respectful  answer. 

Looking  from  the  window,  she  saw, 
and  not  without  concern,  from  the  con* 
trast  to  the  good  humour  which  she  had 
herself  experienced,  that  tliis  choleric 
reproacher  was  Sir  Jaspar  Herrington. 

The  nursery-maid,  who  came,  soon 
afterwards,  in  search  of  some  baubles, 
whicb  her  vouno;  master  had  left  in  the 
Temple  ;  complained  that  her  mistress's 
rich  brother-in-law.  Sir  Jaspar,  who 
never  entered  the  house  but  upon  grand 
invitations,  had  been  at  his  usual  game 
of  scolding,  and  finding  fault  with  all  the 
servants,  till  they  all  v.ished  him  at 
Jericho ;  sparing  nobody  but  Nanny, 
vdiom  the  men  called  the  Beauty.  He  was 
so  particular,  when  he  was  in  his  tanta- 
rums,  the  maid  added,  that  he  was  almost 
as  cross  as  the  old  lady  herself;  except, 
indeed,  to  his  favourites^  and  those   he 

VOL.  III.  o 


(       290      ) 

could  never  do  enough  for.  But  he 
commanded  about  him  at  such  a  rate, 
that  Mrs.  Ireton,  she  was  sure,  would 
never  let  him  into  the  house,  if  it  were 
not  in  the  hope  of  wheedling  him  into 
leaving  the  great  fortune,  that  had  fallen 
to  him  with  the  name  of  Herrington,  to 
the  young  'Squire  ;  though  the  young 
*Squire  was  well  enough  off  without  it ; 
being  certain  of  the  Ireton  estate,  because 
it  was  entailed  upon  him,  if  his  uncle. 
Sir  Jaspar,  should  die  without  children. 

Juliet  did  not  hear  this  history  of  the 
ill  temper  of  her  generous  old  beau, 
witiiout  chagrin ;  but  the  prating  nursery- 
maid ceased  not  recording  what  she 
called  his  tantarums,  till  the  well  known 
sound  of  his  crutches  announced  his 
approach,  when  she  hastily  made  her 
exit. 

With  the  awkward  feeling  of  uncer- 
tain opinion,  softened  off,  nevertheless, 
by  the  remembrance  of  strong  personal 
obligation,  Juliet  presented  herself  at 
the  door,  to  shew  her  intention  of  de- 
scending. 


C    291    ) 

Occupied   by  the  pain  of  labouring 
up  the  steps,  he  did  not  raise  his  head, 
or  perceive  her,  till  he  had  reached  the 
threshold   of  the   little    building.      His 
still  brilliant  eyes  became  then  brighter, 
and   the    air   of    harsh   asperity  v;hich, 
while    mounting,   his   countenance   still 
retained,  from  recent  anger,  was  sud- 
denly converted  into  a  look  of  the  most 
lively   pleasure,   and   perfect  good   hu- 
mour.     After    touching    his    hat,    and 
waving  his  hand,  with  an  old  fashioned, 
but  well  bred  air  of  gallantry,  he  laugh- 
ingly confessed,  that  he   had  ascended 
with  the  view  of  recruiting  his  strength 
and  spirits,  by  a  private  visit  to  the  god 
Morpheus;  to  enable  him  to  get  through 
the  Vt^eighty  enterprize,  of  encountering 
a  throng  of  frivolous  females,  without 
affronting  them  by  his  yawns.     "  How 
little,"  he  continued,  "  did  I  imagine 
myself  coming  to  Sleep's  most  resistless 
conqueror.   Delight !      W   I   rouse   not 
now,    I    must   have   more   soporiferous 
qualities  than  the  Seven  Sleepers!    or 
o  2 


C    292    ) 

even  than  the  Sleeping  Beauty  in  the 
Wood,  who  took  a  nap  of  forty  years/* 

Then  entreating  her  to  be  seated,  he 
dropt  upon  the  easy  cliair,  which  had 
been  prepared  for  Mrs.  Ireton ;  and 
crossed  his  crutches,  as  if  by  accident, 
in  a  manner  that  prevented  her  from  re- 
treating. She  was  the  less,  ho\\:ev^er, 
impatient  of  this  delay,  as  she  saw  that 
the  Vv'indov^s  looking  from  the  house 
into  the  garden,  wel'e  filled  with  com- 
pany, which  she  desired  nothing  so  little 
as  to  pass  in  revie\t. 

Taking,  therefore,  a  place  as  far  from 
him  as  was  in  her  power,  she  made  her- 
self an  occupation,  in  arranging  some 
mulberry  leaves  for  r>ilk-worms. 

The  Baronet,  vvho,-e  face  expressed 
encreasing  satisfaction  at  his  situation, 
courteously  sought  to  draw  her  into  dis- 
course. ''  My  little  friends,"  cried  he, 
smiling,  *^  who  are  always  at  work,  have 
continually  been  tonneiiting  me  of  late, 
with  "pinches  and  twitches^  upon  my 
litter  neglect  of  my  sister-in  lavv',   Mrs. 


(     293     ) 

Ireton.  I  could  not  for  ray  life  imagine 
why  they  took  so  prodigious  an  interest 
in  my  visiting  her;  but  they  nipt,  and 
squeezed,  and  worried  me,  without  in- 
termission; accusing  me  of  misbehaviour; 
saying  she  was  my  sister-in-law  ;  and  ill, 
and  hypochondriac;  and  that  it  was  by  no 
means  pretty  behaved  in  me,  not  to  shew 
her  more  respect.  It  was  in  vain  I  re- 
presented, that  she  was  rich,  and  did 
not  want  me  ;  or  that  she  was  disagree- 
able, and  that  I  did  not  want  her ;  'twas 
all  one ;  they  insisted  I  should  go  :  and 
this  morning,  when  I  would  have  ex- 
cused myself  from  coming  to  h^r  fine 
breakfast,  they  beset  me  in  so  many 
ways,  that  I  was  forced  to  comply. 
And  now  I  see  why!  Poor,  earthly, 
mundane  mortal  that  I  was!  I  took 
them  for  envious  sprites,  jealous  of  my 
repose !  But  I  see,  now,  they  were  only 
recreative  little  sylphs,  amusing  them- 
selves with  whipping  and  spurring  me 
on  to  my  own  good  !'* 

And  is  this,  thought  Juliet,  tlie  man 
«  3 


(     ^94    ) 

^vho  bears  a  character  of  impatience 
and  ill  humour?  this  man,  whose  imagi- 
nation is  so  playful,  and  whose  desire  to 
please  can  only  be  equalled  by  his  desire 
to  serve  ? 

"  And  where,"  he  continued,  "  have 
you  all  this  time  been  eclipsed  ?  From 
sundry  circumstances,  that  perversely 
obtruded  themselves  upon  my  know- 
ledge, in  defiance  of  the  ill  reception  I 
gave  them,  I  was  led,  at  first,  to  conclude, 
that  you  had  been  spirited  away  by  Sir 
Lyell  Sycamore." 

He  fixed  his  eyes  upon  her  curiously ; 
but  the  colour  that  rose  in  her  cheeks 
betrayed  no  secret  consciousness ;  it 
shewed  open  resentment. 

"  O!  I  soon  saw,"  he  resumed,  as  if 
he  had  been  answered,  though  she  had 
not  deigned  to  disclaim  an  idea  that 
she  deemed  fitted  simply  for  contempt ; 
"  by  tlie  mortified  silence  of  my  young 
gallant,  that  the  fiates  had  not  been  pro- 
pitious to  his  wishes.  In  characters  of 
his  description,  success  never  courts  the 


(     295     ) 

shade.  It  basks  in  the  sunshine,  and 
seeks  the  broadest  day.  How  is  it  that 
you  have  thus  piqued  the  vain  spark  ?  He 
came  to  me  in  such  a  fiame,  to  upbraid 
me  for  what  he  called  the  cursed  ridicu- 
lous dance  that  I  had  led  him,  that  I  fairly 
thought  he  meant  to  call  me  out!  I 
began^  directly,  to  look  about  me  for 
the  stoutest  of  my  crutches,  to  parry^ 
for  a  last  minute  or  two,  his  broad 
sword ;  and  to  deliberate  which  might 
be  the  thickest  of  my  leather  cushions^ 
to  hold  up  in  my  defence,  for  reverbe- 
rating the  ball,  in  case  he  should  prefer 
pistols.  But  he  deigned,  most  fortu- 
nately, to  content  himself  with  only 
abusing  me  :  hinting,  that  such  superan- 
nuated old  geese,  as  those  who  had 
passed  their  grand  cHmacteric,  ought 
not  to  meddle  with  affairs  of  which  they 
must  have  lost  even  the  memory.  I 
let  him  bounce  off  without  any  answer ; 
very  thankful  to  the  "  Sisters  three"  to 
feel  myself  in  a  whole  skin." 

Looking  at   her,   then,   with   an   ex- 
04 


(     296     ) 

pression  of  humorous  reproach,  "  You 
will  permit  me,  I  hope,  at  least,"  he 
added,  "  to  flatter  myself,  that,  when 
your  indulgence  to  the  garrulity  of  age 
has  induced  you  to  bear  with  my  loqua- 
city till  I  am  a  little  hoarser,  your  con- 
sideration for  sore  throats  and  heated 
lungs,  will  prevail  upon  you  to  utter  a 
little  word  or  two  in  your  turn  ?*' 

Juliet,  laughing,  answered  that  she 
had  been  too  well  amused,  to  be  aware 
.how  little  she  had  seamed  to  merit  his 
exertions. 

"  Tell  me,  then,'^  cried  he,  with  looks 
that  spoke  him  enchanted  by  this  reply  ; 
*«  through  what  extraordinary  mechanism, 
in  the  wheel  of  fortune,  you  have  been 
rolled  to  this  spot  ?  The  benevolent 
sprites,  who  have  urged  me  hither,  have 
not  given  me  a  jot  of  information  how 
you  became  known  to  Mrs.  Ireton  ?  By 
what  strange  spell  have  you  been  drawn 
in,  to  seem  an  inmate  of  her  mansion  ? 
and  what  philters  and  potions  have  you 
swallowed,  to  make  you  endure  her 
never-ending  vagaries  ?'* 


(     297     ) 

.Half  smiling,  half  sigbinf]^,  Juliet 
looked  dovyn  ;  not  willing  to  accept, 
though  hardly  able  to  resist,  the  offered 
licence  for  complaint. 

"  Make  no  stranger,"  the  old  Baronet 
laughingly  added,  "  of  me,  I  beg  !  She 
is  my  sister-in-law,  to  be  sure  ;  but  the 
law,  with  all  its  subtleties,  has  not  yet 
entailed  our  affections,  with  our  estates, 
to  our  relations  ;  nor  articled  our  tastes, 
with  our  jointures,  to  our  dowagers. 
Use,  therefore,  no  manner  of  ceremony! 
How  do  vou  bear  with  her  freaks  and 
fancies  ?  or  rather,  —  for  that  is  the 
essential  point,  why  do  you  bear  wuth 
them  ?" 

"  Can  that,"  said  Juliet,  "  be  a 
question  ?" 

"  Not  a  wise  one,  I  confess  !"  he  re- 
turned ;  "  for  what  but  Necessity  could 
link  together  two  creatures  wiio  seem 
formed  to  give  a  view  of  human  nature 
diametrically  opposite  the  one  from  the 
other?     These  indeed  must  be  imps, -^ 

o  i 


0    298     ; 

and  imps  t)f  darkness, — who,  busy,  busy 
still  1  delight 

To  join  the  gentle  to  the  rude  [  * 

that  can  have  coupled  so  unharmbnizing 
a  pair.  Hymen,  with  all  the  little  active 
sinister  devils  in  his  train,  that  yoke 
together,  pell  mell,  for  life,  hobbling  age 
with  bounding  youth  ;  choleric  violence; 
with  trembling  timidity ;  haggard  care 
with  thoughtless  merriment ;  —  Hymen 
himself,  that  marrying  little  lawyer,  who 
takes  upon  hirn  to  unite  what  is  most 
discordant,  and  to  tie  together  all  that  is 
most  heterogeneous  ^  even  he,  though 
provided  with  what  is,  so  justly,  called  a 
licence,  for  binding  together  what  nature 
itself  seems  to  sunder  ;  he,  even  he,  I 
assert,  never  buckled  in  the  same  noose, 
two  beings-  so  completely  and  equally 
dissimilar,  both  without  and  within. 
Since  such,  however,  has  been  the 
ordinance  of  these  fantastic  workers  of 

*  Thomson. 


(     299     ) 

wonders,  will  you  let  me  ask,  in  what 
capacity  it  has  pleased  their  impships  to 
conjure  you  hither  ?" 

Juliet  hesitated,  and  looked  ashamed 
to  answer. 

"  You  are  not,  I  hope,''  cried  he, 
fixing  upon  her  his  keen  eyes,  "  one  of 
those  ill-starred  damsels,  whose  task, 
in  the  words  of  Madame  de  Maintenon,. 
is  to  "  amuse  the  unamuseable  r"  You 
are  not,  I  hope, . . .  ."  he  stopt,  as  if 
seeking  a  phrase,  and  then,  rather 
faintly,  added,  "her  companion?" 

"  Her  humble  servant,  Sir!''  with  a 
forced  smile,  said  Juliet ;  "  and  yet, 
humbled  as  I  feel  myself  in  that  capa- 
city, not  humble  enough  for  its  calls  !" 

The  smiles  of  the  old  Baronet  vanished 
in  a  moment,  and  an  expression  of  ex- 
treme severity  took  their  place.  "  She 
uses  you  ill,  then  ?"  he  indignantly 
cried,  and,  grasping  the  knobs  of  hfs 
two  crutches,  he  struck  their  points 
against  the  floor,  with  a  Iieaviness  that 
made  the  little  building  shake,  ejacu* 
o  6 


(     3^o    ) 

lating,  in  a  hoarse  inward  voice,  "  Curse 
her!'^ 

Juliet  stared  at  him,  affrighted  by  his 
violence. 

"  Can  it  be  possible,'*  he  crie J,  "  that 
So  execrable  a  fate  should  be  reserved 
for  so  exquisite  a  piece  of  workmanship? 
Sweet  witch !  were  I  but  ten  years 
younger,  I  w^ould  snatch  you  from  her 
infernal  claws  !  —  or  rather,  could  I  cut 
off  twenty; — yet  even  then  the  disparity 
would  be  too  great!  —  thirty  years 
younger, —  or  perhaps  forty, —  my  hand 
■and  fortune  should  teach  that  Fury  her 
distance  !" 

Juliet,  surprised,  and  doubting  whe- 
ther what  dropt  from  him  were  escaped 
sincerity,  or  purposed  irony,  looked  with 
so  serious  a  perplexity,  that,  struck  and 
ashamed,  he  checked  himself;  and  re- 
covering his  usually  polite  equanimity, 
smiled  at  his  own  warmth,  saying, 
*'  Don't  be  alarmed,  I  beg  !  Don't  ima- 
gine that  I  shall  forget  myself;  nor  want 
to  hurry  away,  lest  my  animation'  should 


(    3^^     ) 

be  dangerous!  The  heat  that,  at  five-and- 
twenty,  might  have  fired  me  into  a  fever, 
now  raises  but  a  kindly  glow,  that  stops, 
or  keeps  off  stagnation.  The  little  sprites, 
who  hover  around  me,  though  they  often 
mischievously  spur  my  poor  fruitless 
wishes,  always  take  care,  by  seasonable 
twitches,  in  some  vulnerable  gouty  part, 
to  twirl  me  from  the  regions  of  hope  and 
romance,  to  very  sober  real  life !" 

Fearful  of  appearing  distrustful,  Juliet 
looked  satisfied,  and  again  he  went  on. 

"  Since,  then,  'tis  clear  that  there  can 
be  no  danger  in  so  simple  an  intercourse, 
why  should  I  not  give  myself  the  gra- 
tification of  telling  you,  that  every  sight 
of  you  does  me  good?  renovates  my  spi- 
rits ;  purifies  my  humours  ;  svv^eetens  my 
blood;  and  braces  my  nerves?  Never  talk 
to  me  with  mockery  of  fairyism,  witch- 
craft, and  sylphs  ;  the  real  influence  of 
lovely  youth,  is  a  thousand  times  more 
w^onderful,  more  potent,  and  more  irrcre- 
dible !  When  I  have  seen  you  only  an 
instant,  I  feel  in  charity  with  all  man- 


(     3<^2     ) 

kind  for  the  rest  of  the  day;  and,  at 
night,  my  kind  little  friends  present  you 
to  me  again;  renew  every  pleasing  idea^ 
revive  the  most  delightful  images  ;  and 
paint  you  to  me  —  just  such  as  I  see  you 
at  this  moment!'* 

Juliet,  embarrassed,  talked  of  returning 
to  the  house. 

"  Do  you  blush  ?*'  cried  he,  with 
quickness,  and  evidently  increasing  ad- 
miration ;  "  is  it  possible  that  you  are 
not  enough  habituated  to  praise,  to  hear  it 
witiiout  modest  confusion  ?  I  have  seen 
'  full  many  a  lady  —  but  you  —  O  you  ! 
—  so  perfect  and  so  peerless  are  created, 
of  every  creature  best !'  * 

"  My  whole  life  has  been  spent  in 
w^orshipping  beauty,  till  within  these  very 
few  years,  when  I  have  gotten  something 
like  a  surfeit,  and  meant  to  give  it  over. 
For  I  have  watched  and  followed  Beau- 
ties, till  I  have  grown  sick  of  them.  ,  I 
have  admired  fine  features,  only  to  be 
disgusted  with  vapid  vanity.    A  face  with 

*  Shakespeare.. 


(     303     ) 

a  little  meaning,  though  as  ugly  as  sin 
and  satan,  I  have  lately  thought  worth 
forty  of  them !  But  you  !  fair  sorceress ! 
you.  have  conjured  me  round  again  to 
my  old  work  !  I  have  found  the  spell 
irresistihJe.  You  have  such  intelligence 
of  countenance  ;  such  spirit  Vvith  such 
sweetness ;  smiles  so  delicious,  though 
rare !  looks  so  speaking ;  grace  so 
silent;  — that  I  forget  you  are  a  beauty  ; 
and  fasten  my  eyes  upon  you,  only  to 
understand  what  you  say  when  you  don't 
utter  a  word  !  That's  all !  Don't  be  un- 
easy, therefore,  at  my  staring.  Though, 
to  be  candid,  Vvc  know  ourselves  so 
little,  that,  'tis  possible,  had  you  not 
first  caught  my  eye  as  a  beauty,  I  mj'ght 
never  have  looked  at  you  long  enough 
to  find  out  your  wit!" 

A  footman  now  came  to  acquaint  Sir 
Jaspar,  that  tliC  rice-soup,  which  he  had 
ordered,  was  ready  ;  and  that  the  ladies 
were  waiting  for  the  honour  of  his  com- 
pany to  breakfast. 

"  I  heartily  wish  they  would  wait  for 


(     3^4     ) 

my  company,  till  I  desire  to  have  theirs!'* 
Sir  Jaspar  muttered  :  but,  sensible  of 
the  impropriety  of  a  refusal,  arose,  and, 
taking  off  his  hat,  with  a  studied  for- 
mahty,  which  he  hoped  would  impress 
the  footman  with  respect  for  its  object, 
followed  his  messenger  :  whispering, 
nevertheless,  as  he  quitted  the  building, 
"  Leave  you  for  a  breakfast  I  —  I  would 
almost  as  willingly  be  immersed  in  the 
witches'  cauldron,  and  boiled  into  mor- 
sels, to  become  a  breakfast  myself,  for 
the  amusement  of  the  audience  at  a 
theatre !" 


(     505     ) 


CHAPTER  LV- 

JULIET,  who  perceived  that  the  win- 
dows were  still  crowded  with  com- 
pany, contentedly  kept  her  place  ;  and, 
taking  up  the  second  volume  of  th$ 
Guardian,  found,  in  the  lively  instruc- 
tion, the  chaste  morality,  and  the  exqui- 
site humour  of  Addison,  an  enjoyment 
which  no  repetition  can  cloy. 

In  a  short  time,  to  her  great  discom- 
posure, she  was  broken  in  upon  by 
Ireton  ;  who,  drawing  before  the  door, 
which  he  shut,  an  easy  chair,  cast  him- 
self indolently  upon  it,  and,  stretching 
out  his  arms,  said,  "  Ah  ha!  the  fair 
Ellis!  How  art  thee,  mv  dear  ?" 

Far  more  offended  than  surprised  by 
this  freedom,  Juliet,  perceiving  that  she 
could  not  escape,  affected  to  go  on  with 
her  reading,  as  if  he  had  not  entered 
the  building. 


(    3=6    ) 

"  Don't  be  angiy,  my  dear,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  that  I  did  not  speak  to  you 
before  all  tliose  people.  There's  no 
noticing  a  pretty  girl,  in  public,  without 
raising  such  a  devil  of  a  clamour,  that  it's 
enough  to  put  a  man  out  of  countenance. 
Besides,  Mrs.  Ireton  is  such  a  very  par- 
ticular quiz,  that  she  would  be  sure  to 
contrive  I  should  never  have  a  peep  at 
you  again,  if  once  she  suspected  the 
pleasure  I  take  in  seeing  you.  How- 
ever, I  aiii  going  to  turn  a  dutiful  son, 
and  spend  some  days  here.  And,  by 
that  means,  we  can  squeeze  an  oppor- 
tunity, now  and  then,  of  getting  a  little 
chat  together." 

Juliet  could  no  longer  refrain  from 
raising  lier  head,  with  amazement,  at 
this  familiar  assurance  :  but  he  v;ent  on, 
totally  disregarding  the  rebuke  of  her 
indignant  eye. 

"  How  do  you  like  your  place  here, 
my  dear  ?  Mrs.  Ireton's  rather  qualmish, 
X  am  afraid,  I  never  can  bear  to  stay 
with  her   myself  j  except  when  I  have 


(     o07     ) 

some  point  to  cany.  I  can't  devise 
what  the  devil  could  urge  you  to  come 
into  such  a  business.  And  where's 
Harleigh  ?  What's  he  about  ?  Gone  to 
old  Nick  I  hope  with  all  my  heart  1  But 
you,  —  why  are  you  separated  ?  What's 
the  reason  you  are  not  with  him  ?" 

Yet  more  provoked,  though  deter- 
mined not  to  look  up  again,  Juliet  fixed 
her  eyes  upon  the  book. 

Ireton  continued  :  "  What  a  sly  dog 
he  is,  that  Harleigh  1  But  what  the  deuce 
could  provoke  him  to  make  me  cut  such 
a  silly  figure  before  Lord  Melbury,  with 
my  apologies,  and  all  that  ?  He  took  me 
in,  poz !  I  thought  he'd  nothing  to  do 
with  you.  x\nd  if  you  had  not  had  that 
fainting  fit,  at  the  concert ;  which  I  sup- 
pose you  forgot  to  give  him  notice  of, 
that  put  him  so  off  his  guard,  I  should 
have  believed  all  he  vowed  and  swore, 
of  having  no  connection  with  you,  and 
all  that,  to  this  very  moment." 

This  was  too  much.  JuHet  gravely 
arose,   put  down   her  book,    and  said^ 


(     3o8    ;) 

tvith  severity,  "  Mr.  Ireton,  you  will  be 
so  good  as  to  let  me  pass !" 

"  No,  not  I !  No,  not  I !  my  dear  V* 
he  answered,  still  lolling  at  his  ea^e. 
"  We  must  have  a  little  chat  together 
first.  'Tis  an  age  since  I  have  been  able 
to  speak  with  you.  I  have  been  con- 
founded discreet,  I  promise  you.  I  have 
not  told  your  secret  to  a  soul." 

"  What  secret,  Sirj"  cried  Juliet, 
hastily. 

"  Why  who  you  are,  and  all  that." 
.  *'  If  you  knew.  Sir,"  recovering  her 
calmness,  she  replied,  "  I  should  not 
have  to  defend  myself  from  the  insults 
of  a  son,  while  under  the  protection  of 
his  mother  1" 

"  Ha!  ha!  ha  !"  cried  he.  "  What  a 
droll  piece  of  dainty  delicacy  thee  art  [ 
I'd  give  a  cool  hundred,  this  moment, 
only  to  know  what  the  deuce  puts  it 
into  thy  little  head,  to  play  this  farce 
such  a  confounded  length  of  time,  be- 
fore one  comes  to  the  catastrophe." 

Juliet,  with  a  disdainful  gesture,  again 
took  her  book. 


(     3^9     ) 

*'  Why  won't  you  trust  me,  my  dear  ? 
You  sha'n't  repent  it,  I  promise  you. 
Tell  me  frankly,  now,  who  are  you? — • 
Hay  r 

Juliet  only  turned  over  a  new^  leaf  of 
her  book. 

*'  How  can  you  be  so  silly,  child  ?  — 
Why  won't  you  let  me  serve  you  ?  You 
don't  know  what  use  I  may  be  of  to 
yen.  Come,  make  me  your  friend  1 
only  trust  me,  and  I'll  go  to  the  vevy 
devil  for  you  with  pleasure." 

Juliet  read  on. 

"  Come,  my  love,  don't  be  cress! 
Speak  out!  Put  aside  these  dainty  airs. 
Surely  you  a'n't  such  a  little  fool,  as 
to  think  to  take  me  in,  as  vou  liave 
done  Melbiiry  and  Harleigh  r" 

Juliet  felt  her  clieeks  now  lieated 
with  increased  indignation. 

•'  As  to  Meibury, — 'tis  a  mere  school- 
boy, ready  to  swailow  any  tiling  ;  and  as 
to  Harleigh,  he's  such  a  queer,  out  of 
the  way  genius,  that  lie's  like  nobody  : 
but  as  to  me,  my  dear,  I'm  a  uan  of  tlie 


(    3^^    ) 

world.  Not  so  easily  played  upon,  1 
promise  you  !  I  have  known  you  from 
the  very  heginning  !  Found  you  out  at 
first  sight!  Only  I  did  not  think  it 
worth  while  telling  you  so,  while  you 
appeared  so  counfounded  ugly.  But 
now  that  I  see  you  are  such  a  pretty 
creature,  I  feel  quite  an  interest  for 
you.  So  tell  me  who  you  are  ?  Will 
you  ?'' 

Somewhat  piqued,  at  length,  by  her 
resolute  silence,  "  Nay,"  he  added,  with 
affected  scorn,  "  don't  imagine  I  have 
any  view !  Don't  disturb  yourself  with 
any  freaks  and  qualms  of  that  sort. 
You  are  a  fine  girl,  to  be  sure.  Devilish 
handsome,  I  own  ;  but  still  too  —  too  — 
grave,  —  gnm?  —  What  the  deuce  is  the 
word  I  mean  ?  for  my  taste.  I  like 
something  more  buckish.  So  pray  make 
yourself  easy.  I  sha'n't  interfere  with 
your  two  sparks.  I  am  perfectly  aware 
I  should  have  but  a  bad  chance.  I 
know  I  am  neither  as  good  a  pigeon 
to  pluck  as  Melbury,  nor  as  marvellous 
6 


(     3'i     ) 

a  wiglit  to  overcome  as  Harleigb.  But 
I  can't  for  my  life  make  out  why  you 
don't  take  to  one  or  t'other  of  them,  and 
])ut  yourself  at  your  ease.  I'm  deadly 
curious  to  know  what  keeps  you  from 
coming  to  a  finish.  Melbury  would  be 
managed  the  easiest ;  but  I  strongly 
suspect  you  like  Harleigh  best.  Vvliat 
do  you  turn  your  back  for  ?  That  I 
mayn't  see  you  blush  ?  Come,  come, 
don't  play  the  baby  with  a  man  of  the 
world  like  me." 

To  the  infinite  relief  of  the  disgusted 
Juliet,  she  now  heard  the  approach  of 
some  foot-step.  Ireton,  who  heard  it 
also,  nimbly  arose,  and,  softly  moving 
his  chair  from  the  door,  cast  half  his 
body  out  of  the  window,,  and,  lolling 
upon  his  elbows,  began  humming  an 
air  ;  as  if  totally  occupied  in  regarding 
the  sea. 

A  footman,  who  entered,  told  Juliet 
that  his  lady  desired  that  she  would  come 
to  the  parlour,  to  play  and  sing  to  the 
Tcompany,  while  they  breakfasted. 


Juliet,  colouring  at  this  tinqualified 
order,  hesitated  v/hat  to  ^answer;  while 
Ireton,  turning  round,  and  pretending 
not  to  have  heard  what  was  said,  mali- 
ciously made  the  man  repeat,  "  My 
lady,  Sir,  bid  me  tell  Miss  EHis,  that 
she  nvust  come  to  play  and  sing  to  the 
company." 

"Play  and  sing?"  repeated  Ireton. 
"  O  the  devil !  Must  Vve  be  bored  with 
playing  and  singing  too  ?  But  I  did  not 
know  breakfast  was  ready,  and  I  am 
half  starved." 

He  then  sauntered  from  the  building; 
but  the  mom.ent  that  the  footman  was 
out  of  sight,  turned  liack,  to  say,  "  IIow^ 
devilish  provoking  to  be  interrupted  in 
tliis  manner  !  How  can  we  contrive  to 
meet  as^ain,  my  dear  ?" 

The  answer  of  Juliet  w^as  shutting  and 
bolting  the  door. 

His  impertinence,  however,  occupied 
her  mind  only  w];ile  she  was  under  its 
influence  ;  tlie  insignificance  of  his  cha- 
racter,  notwithstanding   the   malice   of 


C    3^3     ) 

his  temper,  made  it  sink  into  nothing, 
to  give  way  to  the  new  rising  difficulty, 
how  she  might  bear  to  obey,  or  how 
risk  to  refuse,  the  rude  and  peremptory 
vSummons  which  she  had  just  received. 
Ought  I,  she  cried,  to  submit  to  treat- 
ment so  mortifying  ?  Are  there  no  boun- 
daries to  the  exactions  of  prudence  upon 
feeling?  or,  rather,  is  there  not  a  men- 
tal necessity,  a  call  of  character,  a  cry 
of  propriety,  that  should  supersede,  oc- 
c;isionally,  all  prudential  considerations, 
however  urgent? — Oh!  if  those  who 
receive,  from  the  unequal  conditions  of 
life,  the  fruits  of  the  toils  of  others, 
could, — only  for  a  few  days, — experience, 
personally,  how  cruelly  those  toils  are 
embittered  by  arrogance,  or  how  sweetly 
they  may  be  softened  by  kindness, — the 
race  of  the  Mrs.  Iretoi^s  would  become 
rare,  —  and  Lady  Aurora  Granville 
might,  perhaps,  be  paralleled ! 

Yet,  with  civility,  with  good  manners, 
had  Mrs.  Ireton  made  this  request ;  not 
issued  it  as  a  command  by  a  footmai) ; 

VOL.  HI.  p 


(     3'4     ) 

Juliet  felt  that,  in  her  present  dependent 
condition,  however  ill  she  might  be  dis- 
posed for  music,  or  for  public  exhibi- 
tion, she  ouo'ht  to  yield  :  and  even 
now,  the  horrour  of  having  another 
asylum  to  aeek  ;  the  disgrace  of.  seem- 
ing driven,  thus  continually,  from 
house  to  house  ;  thougli  they  could  not 
lessen  her  repugnance  to  indelicaey  and 
haughtiness,  cooled  all  ardour  of  desire 
for  trying  yet  another  change  ;  till  she 
should  have  raised  a  sufficient  sum  for 
joining  Gabrieila  ;  and  softening,  nay 
delighting,  the  future  toils  to  which 
she  might  be  destined,  by  the  society  of 
that  cherished  friend. 

In  a  fev/  minutes,  she  was  visited  by 
Selina,  who,  rapturously  embracing  her, 
declared  that  she  could  not  stay  away 
from  her  any  longer;  and  volubly  began 
her  usual  babble  of  news  and  tales  ;  to 
all  which  Juliet  gave  scarcely  the  coldest 
attention  ;  till  she  had  the  satisfaction 
of  hearing  that  the  health  of  Elinor  was 
re-established. 


(     $^S    ) 

Selina  thea  owned  that  she  had  been 
sent  by  Mrs.  Iretvon,  to  desire  that  Miss 
Ellis  would  make  more  haste. 

Juliet  worded  a  civil  excuse ;  which 
Selina,  with  hands  uplifted,  from  amaze- 
ment, carried  back  to  the  breakfast- 
room. 

Soon  afterwards,  peals  of  laughter 
announced  the  vicinity  of  the  Miss 
Crawleys ;  who  merrily  called  aloud 
upon  Ireton,  to  come  and  help  them 
to  haul  The  Ellis,  Will  ye,  nill  ye  ?  to 
the  piano-forte,  to  play  and  sing. 

Happy  in  this  intifnation  of  their 
purpose,  Juliet  bolted  the  door  ;  .  and 
would  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  open 
it,  either  by  their  vociferous  prayers^ 
or  their  squalls  of  disappointment. 

But,  in  another  minute,  a  sliirht 
/iistling  sound  drawing  her  eyes  to  a 
window,  she  saw^  Ireton  preparing  to 
make  a  forced  entry. 

She  darted,  now,  to  the  door,  and, 
nnding  the  passage  clear,  as  the  Miss 
Crawleys  had  gone  softly  round,  to 
p   2 


(  0  ) 

witness  the  exploit  of  Ireton,  seized  the 
favourable  moment  for  eluding  observa- 
tion ;  and  was  nearly  arrived  at  the 
house,  before  the  besiegers  of  the  cage 
perceived  that  the  bird  was  flown. 


(    3^7    ) 

Til  10  : 


CHAPTER  LVI, 


nPHE  two  sisters  no  sooner  discovered 
the   escape    of   their   prey,    than, 
screaming   with    violent   laughter,   they 
began  a  romping  race  in  its  pursuit. 

Near  the  entrance  into  the  hall,  Juliet 
was  met  by  Selina,  with  commands  from 
Mrs.  Ireton,  that  she  would  either 
present  herself,  immediately,  to  the 
company  ;  or  seek  another  abode. 

In  minds  of  strong  sensibility,  arro- 
gance rouses  resentment  more  quickly 
even  than  injury  :  a  message  so  gross, 
an  affront  so  public,  required,  therefore, 
no  deliberation  on  the  part  of  Juliet ; 
and  she  was  answering  that  she  would 
make  her  preparations  to  depart ;  when: 
the  Miss  Cawleys,  rushing  suddenly 
upon  her,  exclaimed,  with  clamourous 
joy,  "  She's  caught!  She's  caught! 
The  Ellis  is  caught  1"  and,  each  of  them 

^'  3 


(     3^S     ) 

seizing  a  hand,  they  dragged  her,  with 
merry  violence,  into  the  breakfast- room. 

Her  hojdening  conchictors  failed  not 
to  excite  the  attention  of  the  whole  as- 
.sembiVj  though  it  fell  not,  after  the  first 
glance,  upon  themselves.  Juliet,  to 
whom  exercise  and  confusion  gave 
added  beauty;  and  whom  no  disorder 
of  attire  could  rob  of  an  air  of  decency, 
Tvhich,  inherent  in  her  nature,  was 
always  striking  in  her  demeanour  j  was 
1)0  sooner  seen,  than,  whether  with 
censure  or  applause,  she  monopolized 
all  remark. 

Mrs.  Ireton  haughtily  bid  lier  ap- 
proach. 

Averse,  yet  unwilling  to  risk  the  con- 
sequences of  a  public  breach,  she  slowly 
advanced. 

"  I  am  afraid.  Ma'am,*'  said  Mrs. 
Ireton,  with  a  smile  of  derision  ;  "  I 
am  afraid.  Ma'am,  you  have  hurried 
yourself?  It  is  not  much  above  an 
hour,  I  believe,  sioce  I  did  myself  the 
honour  of  sending  for  you.     I  have  no 


(     3^9     ) 

conception  bow  you  have  been  able  to 
arrive  so  soon !  Pray  how  far  do  you 
think  it  may  be  from  hence  to  the 
Temple  ?  ten  or  twelve  yards,  I  verily 
believe !  You  must  ,really  be  ready 
to  expire  !" 

Plaving  constrained  herself  to  hear 
thus  much,  Juhet  conceived  that  the 
duty  even  of  her  humble  station  could 
require  no  more  ;  she  made,  therefore,  a 
slight  reverence,  with  intention  to  with- 
draw. But  Mrs.  Ireton,  offended,  cried, 
*'  Whither  may  you  be  going,  Ma'am  ? 
—  And  pray.  Ma'am, — if  I  may  take 
the  liberty  to  ask  such  a  question, — who 
told  you  to  go  ? — Was  it  I  ?  —  Did  any 
body  hear  me  ?  —  Did  you.  Lady  Arra- 
mede?  —  or  you.  Miss  Brinville?  —  or 
only  Miss  Ellis  herself?  For,  to  be  sure 
I  must  have  done  it :  I  take  that  for 
granted  :  she  would  not,  certainly,  think 
of  going  w^ithout  leave,  after  I  have 
sent  for  her.  So  I  make  no  doubt  but 
I  did  it.  Though  I  can't  think  how 
it  happened,  I  own.  'Twas  perfectly 
p  4 


(      320      ) 

without  knowing  it,  I  confess.  In  some 
fit  of  absence  —  perhaps  in  my  sleep;— 
for  I  have  slept,  too,  perhaps,  withoufi 
knowing  it  !'* 

Sarcasms  so  witty,  lUtered  by  a  lady 
at  an  assembly  in  her  own  house,  could 
not  fliii  of  being  received  with  applause; 
and  Mrs.  Ireton,  looking  around  her 
triumphantly,  regarded  the  disconcerted 
Juliet  as  a  completely  vanquished  vassal. 
In  a  tone,  therefore,  that  marked  the 
most  perfect  self-satisfaction,  "  Pray, 
Ma'am,"  she  continued,  "  for  what 
might  you  suppose  I  did  myself  the 
favour  to  want  you  ?  w^as  it  only  to  take 
a  view  of  your  new  costume  ?  'Tis  very 
careless  and  picturesque,  to  be  sure, 
to  rove  abroad  in  that  agreeable  dis- 
habille, just  like  the  '  maiden  all  for- 
lorn  ;'  or  rather,  to  speak  with  more 
exactitude,  like  the  '  man  all  tattered 
and  torn,'  for  'tis  more  properly  his 
costume  you  adopt,  than  the  neat,  tidy 
maiden's.*' 

The  warm-hearted  young  Lady  Ear- 

6 


(       321       )j 

bara,  all  pity  and  feeling  for  Juliet,  here 
broke  from  her  quiet  and  cautious  aunt; 
and,  with  irrepressible  eagerness,  ex- 
claimed, "  Mrs.  Ireton,  ^twa^  Mr.  Led- 
dard,  your  own  little  naughty  nephew, 
who  deranged  in  that  manner  the  dress 
of  that  elegant  Miss  Ellis." 

The  Miss  Crawleys,  now,  running  to 
the  little  boy,  called  out,  "  The  Lod- 
dard  1  the  Loddard !  'tis  the  Loddard 
has  set  up  the  new  costume  /^' 

Mrs.  Ireton,  though-airecting  to  laugh, 
had  now  done  with  the  subject ;  and, 
while  she  was  taking  a  pinch  of  snufr, 
to  gain  time  to  suggest  some  other.  Sir 
Jaspar  Herrington,  advancing  to  Juliet, 
said,  "  Has  this  young  lady  no  place  ?'* 
and,  gallantly  taking  her  hand,  he  led  her 
to  his  own  chair,  and  walked  to  another 
part  of  the  room. 

A. civility  such  as  this  from  Sir  Jaspar, 
made  all  the  elders  of  the  company  star^, 
and  all  the  younger  titter  3  but  the  pei;- 
son  the  most  surprized  was  Mrs.  Ireton, 
who  hastily  called  out,  "  Mis3  Ellis 
i^  5 


(     3^2     ) 

would  not  do  such  a  thing  1  Take  Sir 
Jaspar's  own  seat!  That  has  his  own  par- 
ticular cushions !  She  could  not  do  such 
a  thing !  I  should  think  not,  at  least ! 
I  may  judge  ill,  but  I  should  think  not. 
A  seat  prepared  for  Sir  Jaspar  by  my 
own  order  !  Miss  Ellis  can  dispense  with 
having  an  easy  chair,  and  three  cushions, 
I  should  presume  !  I  may  be  wrong,  to 
be  sure,  but  I  should  presume  so  !" 

*'  >iadam,''  answered  Sir  Jaspar,  "  in 
days  of  old,  I  never  could  bear  to  sit, 
^vhen  I  saw  a  lady  standing;  and  though 
those  days  are  past,  alas  !  and  gone, — 
still  I  cannot,  even  to  escape  a  twitch  of 
the  gout,  see  a  fair  female  neglected, 
without  feeling  a  twitch  of  another  kind, 
that  gives  me  yet  greater  pain." 

"  Your  politeness,  Sir  Jaspar,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Ireton,  "  we  all  know;  and, 
if  it  were  for  one  of  my  guests,  —  but 
Miss  Ellis  can  hardly  desire,  I  should 
suppose,  to  see  you  drop  down  with 
fatigue,  while  she  is  reposing  upon  your 
arm-chair.    Not  that  I  pretend  to  know 


(     323     ) 

her  way  of  thinking  !  I  don't  mean  that. 
I  don't  mean  to  have  it  imagined  I  have 
the  honour  of  her  confidence  j  but  I 
should  rather  suppose  she  could  not  insist 
upon  turning  you  out  of  your  seat,  only 
to  give  you  a  paroxysm  of  the  gout.'* 

However  internally  moved,  Juliet  en- 
dured this  harangue  in  total  silence ; 
convinced  that  where  all  authority  is  on 
the  side  of  the  aggressor,  resistance 
only  provokes  added  triumph.  Her 
looks,  tiierefore,  tliough  they  shewed 
her  to  be  hurt  and  offended,  evinced  a 
dignified  forbearance,  superiour  to  the 
useless  reproach,  and  vain  retaliation,  of 
unequal  contention. 

She  rose,  nevertheless,  from  the  seat 
which  she  had  only  momentarily,  and 
from  surprise  occupied,  and  would  have 
quitted  the  room,  but  that  she  saw  she 
should  again  be  publicly  called  back  ; 
and  hers  was  not  a  situation  for  bravinn; 
open  enmity.  She  thankfully,  however, 
accepted  a  chair  which  was  brought  to 
her  by  Sir  Marmaduke  Crawley,  and 
p  6 


(     324     ) 

placed  next  to  that  wliich  bad  been 
vacated  by  the  old  Baronet;  who  then 
returned  to  his  own. 

She  now  hoped  to  find  some  support 
from  hist  countenance  ;  as  his  powerful 
situation  iu  the  house,  joined  to  his  age, 
would  make  his  smallest  attention  prove 
to  her  a  kind  of  protection.  Her  ex- 
pectation, however,  w^as  disappointed : 
he  did  not  address  to  lier  a  word;  or 
appear  to  have  ever  beheld  her  before ; 
and  his  late  act  of  poHteness  seemed 
exerted  for  a  perfect  stranger,  from 
habitual  good  breeding. 

And  is  it  you,  thought  the  pensive 
Juliet,  who,  but  a  few  minutes  since, 
spoke  to  me  with  such  flattery,  such 
preference  ?  with  an  even  impassioned 
regard?  And  shal!  this  so  little  assembly 
guide  and  awe  you  ?  There,  w  here  I 
wished  to  escape  your  notice,  you  ob- 
truded upon  me  your  compliments;  — 
while  here,  where  a  smile  would  be  en- 
couragement, wliere  notice  v^^ould  be 
charity,  you  affect  to  have  forgotten,  or 


(     325     ) 

appear  never  to  have  seen  j^c!  Ah! 
mentally  continued  the  silent  moralist, 
if  we  reflected  upon  the  difficulty  oi' 
gaining  esteem ;  upon  the  chances 
against  exciting  affection ;  upon  the 
union  of  time  and  circumstance  neces- 
sary for  obtaining  sincere  regard  ;  we 
should  require  courage  to  withhold,  not 
to  follo\^5  the  movement  of  kindness, 
that,  where  distress  sighs  for  succour, 
where  helplessness  solicits  support,  gives 
power  to  the  smallest  exertion,  to  a 
single  v»ord,  to  a  passing  smile,  —  to 
bestow  a  favoiu',  and  to  do  a  service, 
that  catch,  in  the  brief  space  of  a  little 
moment,  a  gratitude  tliat  never  dies  ! 

But,  while  thus  to  be  situated,  w^as 
pain  and  dejection  to  Juliet,  to  see  her 
seated,  however  unnoticed,  in  tlie  midst 
of  this  society,  was  almost  equally  irk- 
some to  Mrs.  Ireton  ;  who,  after  some 
vain  internal  fretting,  ordered  the  butler 
to  carry  about  refreshments  ;  consoled 
with  the  certainty,  that  he  would  as 
little  dare  present  any  to  Juliet,  as  omit 
to  present  them  to  every  one  else. 


(     3^6     ) 

The  smiles  and  best  humour  of  Mrs. 
Ireton  now  soon  returned;  for  the  depen- 
dent state  of  Juliet  became  more  than 
ever  conspicuous,  when  thus  decidedly 
she  was  marked  as  the  sole  person,  in  a 
large  assembly,  that  the  servants  v;ere 
permitted,  if  not  instructed  to  neglect. 

Juliet  endeavoured  to  sit  tranquil, 
and  seem  unconcerned;  but  her  fingers 
were  in  continual  motion ;  her  eyes, 
meaning  to  look  no  where,  looked  every 
where ;  and  Mrs.  Ireton  had  the  gratifi- 
cation to  perceive,  that,  however  she 
struggled  for  indifference,  she  was  fully 
sensible  of  the  awkwardness  of  her 
situation. 

But  this  was  no  sooner  remarked  by 
Lady  Barbara  Frankland,  than,  starting 
with  vivacity  from  her  vainly  watchful 
aunt,  she  flew-  to  her  former  instructress, 
crying,  "  Have  you  taken  nothing  yet, 
Miss  Ellis  ?  O  pray,  then,  let  me  chuse 
your  ice  for  you  ?" 

She  ran  to  a  side-board,  and  select- 
ing the  colour  most  pleasing  to  her  eyes. 


hastened  with  it  to  the  blushing,  but  re- 
lieved and  grateful  Juliet;  to  whom  this 
benevolent  attention  seemed  instantlv  to 
restore  the  self-command,  that  pointed 
indignities,  and  triumphant  derision, 
were  sinking  into  abashed  depression. 

The  sensation  produced  by  this  action 
in  Mrs.  Ireton,  was  as  ungenial  as  that 
which  it  caused  to  JuHet  was  consola- 
tory. She  could  not  for  a  moment  en- 
dure to  see  the  creature  of  her  power, 
whom  she  looked  upon  as  destined  for 
the  indulgence  of  her  will,  and  the  play 
of  her  authority,  receive  a  mark  of  con- 
sideration which,  if  shewn  even  to  her- 
self, would  have  been  accepted  as  a 
condescension.  Abruptly,  therefore, 
while  they  were  standing  together,  and 
conversing,  she  called  out,  "  Is  it  pos- 
sible. Miss  Ellis,  that  you  can  see  the 
child  in  such  imminent  danger,  and  stay 
there  amusing  yourself?" 

Lady  Kendover  hastily  called  off  her 
young  niece  5  and  Juliet,  sighing, 
crossed  over  the  room,  to  take  charge 


'^ 


(     328     ) 

of  the  little  boy,  who  was  sit^ing^  a 
straddle  out  of  one  of  the  windows.         ,> 

"  B^it  I  had  flattered  myself,"  cried 
Sir  Marmaduke  Crawley,  addressing 
Mrs.  Ireton,  "  that  we  should  have  a 
little  music  ?" 

Mrs.  Ireton,  to  whom  the  talents  of 
Juliet  gave  pleasure  in  proportion  only 
to  her  own  re})us.- nance  to  bringing 
them  into  phy,  had  relinquished  the 
projected  performance,  when  she  per* 
eeived  the  general  i::terest  which  was 
excited  by  the  mere  appearance  of  the 
intended  performer.  She  declared  her- 
self, therefore,  so  extremely  fearful  lest 
some  mischief  should  befal  her  little 
nephew,  that  she  could  not  possibly 
trust  him  from  the  care  of  Miss  Ellis. 

Hail  the  company,  now,  urged  by 
the  thirst  of  fresh  amusement,  professed 
the  most  passionate  fondness  for  chil- 
dren, and  offered  their  services  to  watch 
the  dear,  sweet  little  boy,  while  Miss 
Ellis  should  play  or  sing;  but  the  averse- 
uess  of  Ellis  remained  iincombated   by 


(     329     ) 

Mrs.    Iretoii,     and,    therefore,    uncoa- 
quered. 

;  The  party  was  preparing  to  break  up, 
when  Mr.  Giles  Arbe  entered  the  room, 
to  apologize  for  the  non-appearance  of 
Miss  Arbe,  his  cousin,  who  had  bid  him 
bring  word,  he  said,  that  she  was  taken 
ill. 

Ireton,  by  a  few  crafty  questions, 
soon  drew  from  him,  that  Miss  Arbe 
was  only  gone  to  a  little  private  music- 
meeting  at  Miss  Sycamore's :  though, 
affrighted  when  he  had  made  the  con- 
fession, he  entreated  Mrs.  Ireton  not 
to  take  it  amiss ;  protesting  that  it  was 
not  done  in  any  disrepect  to  her,  but 
merely  because  his  cousin  was  more 
amused  at  Miss  Sycamore's. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  extremely  piqued,  an- 
swered,  that  she  should  be  very  careful, 
in  future,  not  to  presume  to  make  an 
invitation  to  Miss  Arbe,  but  in  a  total 
dearth  of  other  entertainment;  in  a 
famine  ;  or  public  fast. 

But,   the  moment  he  sauntered  into 


(    33"^    ) 

another  room,  to  partake  of  some  re- 
freshments, "  That  old  savage,"  siie 
cried,  "  is  a  perfect  horrour!  He  has  not 
a  single  atom  of  common  sense ;  and  if 
lie  were  not  Miss  Arbe's  cousin,  one 
must  tell  one's  butler  to  shew  him  th^ 
door.  At  least,  such  is  my  poor  opinion. 
I  don't  pretend  to  be  a  judge;  but  such 
is  my  notion  !" 

"  O!  I  adore  him!"  cried  Miss 
Crawley.  "  He  makes  me  laugh  till  I 
am  ready  to  die!  He  has  never  a  guess 
what  he  is  about ;  and  he  never  hears 
a  word  one  says.  And  he  stares  so 
when  one  laughs  at  him  !  O !  he's  the 
delightfullest,  stupidest,  dear  wretch 
that  breathes !" 

"  O !  I  can't  look  at  him  without 
laughing  !"  exclaimed  Miss  Di.  "  He's 
the  best  thing  in  nature  !  He's  delicious ! 
enchanting!  delightful!  O!  so  dear  a 
fool  !'^ 

He  is  quite  unfit,"  said  Mrs.  Maple, 

fbr  society  ;  for  he  says  every  thing 
that  comes  uppermost,  and  has  not  the 
least  idea  of  what  is  due  to  people." 


C    33'     ) 

"  O !  he  is  the  sweetest-tempered, 
kindest-hearted  creature  in  the  world  1'* 
exclaimed  Lady  Barbara.  "  My  aunt's 
woman  has  heard,  from  i\Iiss  Arbe's 
maid,  all  his  history.  He  has  quite 
ruined  himself  by  serving  poor  people 
in  distress.  He  is  so  generous,  he  can 
never  pronounce  a  refusal." 

"  But  he  dresses  so  meanly,'*  said 
Miss  Brinville,  "  that  mamma  and  I  have 
begged  Miss  Arbe  not  to  bring  him  any 
more  to  see  us.  Besides, — he  tells  every 
thing  in  the  world  to  ever^^  body.'* 

"  Poor  Miss  Arbe  a'n't  to  blame,  I 
assure  you,  i\Iiss  Brinville,"  said  Selina ; 
"  for  she  disjikes  him  as  much  as  you 
do  ;  oiily  v.'hen  her  papa  invited  him  to 
live  with  them,  he  was  very  rich  ;  and 
it  was  tliouglit  he  would  leave  all 
liis  fortune  to  them.  But,  since  then. 
Miss  Arbe  says,  he  is  grown  quite  poor  ; 
for  he  has  dawdled  aw^ay  almost  all  his 
money,  in  one  way  or  another;  letting 
folks  out  of  prison,  setting  people  up  in 
.business,  and  all  that." 


I  (  332  ) 

.?if*  O!  he's  the  very  king  of  quizzes  P' 
cried  Ireton.  "  He  drags  me  out  of  the 
spleen,  wlien  I  feel  as  if  there  were  no 
possibility  I  could  yawn  on  another  half 
hour." 

Sir  Jaspar  now,  looking  with  an  air  of 
authority  towards  Ireton,  said,  "  It 
would  have  been  your  good  star,  not 
your  evil  genius,  by  which  you  would 
have  been  guided,  Mr.  Ireton,  had  you 
been  attracted  to  this  old  gentleman  as 
to  an  example,  rather  than  as  a  butt 
for  your  wit.  He  has  very  good  parts, 
if  he  knew  how  to  make  use  of  them  ; 
though  he  has  a  simplicity  of  manners^ 
that  induces  common  observers  to  con- 
clude him  to  be  nearly  an  ideot.  And, 
indeed,  an  absent  man  seems  always  in  a 
state  of  childhood,;  for  as  he  is  never 
occupied  with  what  is  present,  those 
who  think  of  nothing  else,  naturally, 
take  it  for  granted  that  what  passes  is  ' 
above  his  comprehension  ;  when,  per- 
haps, it  is  only  below  his  attention. 
But  with  Mr.  Arbe,  though  his  temper 


(    333    ) 

IS  incomparably  good  and  placid,  ab- 
sence is  neither  want  of  understandinsr, 
nor  of  powers  of  observation  ;  for,  when 
once  he  is  awakened  to  what  is  passing", 
by  any  thiuo'  that  touches  his  feelina:s 
of  huipanity,  or  his  sense  of  justice,  his 
seeming  stupor  turns  to  energy ;  his 
silence  is  superseded  by  eloquence  ;  and 
his  gentle  diffidence  is  supplanted  by  a 
mental  courage,  which  electrifies  with 
surprize,  from  its  contrast  with  his  ge- 
neral docility ;  and  which  strikes,  and 
even  awes,  from  an  apparent  dignity  of 
defying  consequences; — though,  in  fact, 
it  is  but  the  effect  of  never  weighing; 
them.  Such,  however,  as  he  is,  Mr. 
Ireton,  with  the  singularities  of  his  cou- 
rage, or  the  oddities  of  his  passiveness, 
he  is  a  man  who  is  useful  to  the  world, 
from  his  love  of  doing  good  ;  and  happy 
in  himself,  from  the  serenity  of  a  tem- 
per unruffled  by  any  species  of  malig- 
nity.'' 

Ireton  ventured  not  to  manifest  any 
resentment    at    this     conclusion  j     but 


(     334     ) 

when,  by  liis  embarrassed  air.  Sir  Jas- 
par  saw  that  it  was  understood,  he 
smiled,  and  more  gaily  added,  *'  If 
the  fates,  the  sisters  three,  and  such 
Httle  branches  of  learning,  had  had  the 
benevolence  to  have  fixed  my  own  birth 
under  the  influence  of  the  same  planet 
'with  that  of  Mr.  Giles  Arbe,  how  many 
twitches,  goadings,  and  worries  should  I 
have  been  spared,  from  impatience,  am- 
bition, envy,  discontent,  and  ill  will !" 

The  subject  was  here  dropt,  by  the 
re-entrance  of  Mr.  Arbe  ;  who,  observ- 
ing Selina,  said  that  he  wanted  prodi- 
giously to  enquire  about  her  poor  aunt, 
whom,  lately,  he  had  met  with  no  wlierej 
thou2:h  she  used  to  be  everv  where. 

"  My  aunt.  Sir  ?  —  She's  there  !"  said 
Selina,  pointing  to  Mrs.  Maple. 

*VNo,  no,  I  don't  mean  that  aunt  ;  I 
mean  your  young  aunt,  that  used  to  be 
so  all  alive  and  clever.  What's  become 
of  her  ?'' 

"  O,   I  dare   say  it's  my   sister  you 
•  are  thinking  of?" 


(    335    ) 

««  Ay,  it's  like  enough ;  for  she's 
young  enough,  to  be  sure  ;  only  you 
look  such  a  mere  child.  Pray  how  is  she 
now  ?  I  was  very  sorry  to  hear  of  her 
cutting  her  throat." 

A  titter,  which  w-as  immediately  ex- 
alted  into  a  hearty  laugh  by  the  Miss 
Crawleys,  was  all  the  answer. 

"  It  was  not  right  to  do  such  a  thing," 
he  continued ;  "  very  wrong  indeed. 
There's  no  need  to  be  afraid  of  not 
dying  soon  enough,  for  we  only  come  to 
be  gone !  I  pitied  her,  however,  with 
ail  my  heart,  for  love  is  but  a  dangerous 
tiling  ;  it  makes  older  persons  than  she 
is  go  astray,  one  way  or  other.  And 
it  was  but  unkind  of  Mr.  Harleigh  not 
to  marry  her,  whether  he  liked  or  not, 
to  save  her  from  such  a  naughty  action. 
And  pray  what  is  become  oi  that  pretty 
creature  tiiat  used  to  teach  you  all  music  ? 
I  have  enquired  for  her  at  Miss  Matson's, 
often  ;  but  I  always  forgot  where  they 
said  she  was  gone.  Indeed  they  made 
me    a    little  angry   about    her,    which. 


C   336   ) 

probably,  was  the  reason  that  I  could 
never  recollect  what  they  told  me  of 
her  direction." 

**  Angry,  Mr.  Giles?"  repeated  Mrs. 
Ireton,  with  an  air  of  restored  compla- 
cency;  *'  What  was  it,  then,  they  said 
of  her?  Not  that  1  am  very  curious  to 
hear  it,  as  I  presume  you  will  beh'eve! 
You  won't  imagine  it,  I  -  presume,  a 
matter  of  the  first  interest  to  me !" 

'^  O,  what  they  said  of  her  was  very 
bad  !  very  bad,  indeed ;  and  that's  the 
reason  I  give  no  credit  to  it." 

"  Well,  well,  but  what  was  it  ?"  cried 
Ireton^ 

"  Why  they  told  me  that  she  was 
turned  toad-eater." 

Universal  and  irresistible  smiles 
throughout  the  whole  company,  to  the 
exception  of  Lady  Barbara  and  Sir 
Jaspar,  now  heightened  the  embarrass- 
ment of  Juliet  into  pain  and  distress  : 
but  young  Loddard  every  moment 
struggled  to  escape  into  the  garden, 
through  the  window  j  and  she  did  not 
dare  quit  her  post. 


C     337     ) 

^^i  ^,  So  I  asked  them  what  they  meant/* 
Mr.  Giles  continued ;  "  for  I  never 
heard  of  any  body's  eating  toads ;  though 
I  am  assured  our  neighbours^  on  t'other 
bank,  are  so  fond  of  frogs.  But  they 
made  it  out,  that  it  only  meant  a  person 
who  would  swallow  any  thing,  bad  or 
good ;  and  do  whatever  he  was  bid, 
right  or  wrong  ;  for  the  sake  of  a  little 
pay." 

This  definition  by  no  means  brought 
the  assembly  back  to  its  gravity;  but 
while  Juliet,  ashamed  and  indignant, 
kept  her  face  turned  constantly  towards 
the  garden,  Ireton  called  out,  "  Why 
you  don't  speak  to  your  little  friend 5 
Loddard,  Mr.  Giles.  There  he  is,  at  the 
window." 

Mr.  Giles  now,  notwithstanding  her 
utmost  efforts  to  avoid  his  eyes,  per- 
ceived the  blushing  Juliet ;  though, 
doubting  his  sight,  he  stared  and  ex- 
claimed, "Good  la!  that  lady's  very  i 
like  Miss  Ellis  !  And,  I  protest,  'tis  she'^^ 
herself!     And  just   as  pretty  as  ever !  f 

VOL.  in.  <^ 


C    338    ) 

And  with  the  same  innocent  face  that 
not  a  soul  can  either  buy  or  make,  but 
God  Ahuighty  himself!" 

He  then  enquired  after  her  health 
and  welfare,  with  a  cordiahty  that  some- 
what lessened  the  pain  caused  by  the 
general  remark  that  was  produced  by 
his  address  :  but  the  rehef  was  at  an  end 
upon  his  adding,  "  I  wanted  to  see  you 
prodigiously,  for  I  have  never  forgotten 
your  paying  your  debts  so  prettily, 
against  your  will,  that  morning.  It 
fixed  you  in  my  good  opinion.  I  hope, 
however,  it  is  a  mistake,  what  they  tell 
me,  that  you  are  turned  Vv^hat  they  call 
toad-eater?  and  have  let  yourself  out,  at 
so  much  a  year,  to  say  nothing  tliat  you 
think  ;  and  to  do  nothing  that  you  like  ; 
and  to  beg  pardon  when  you  are  not  in 
fault;  and  to  eat  all  the  oflhls;  and  to  be 
beat  by  the  little  gentleman  ;  and  wor- 
ried  by  the  little  dog  ?  I  hope  all  that's 
mere  misapprehension,  my  dear ;  for 
it  would  be  but  a  very  mean  way  of 
getting  money.'* 


C     339     ) 

The  calmness  of  conscious  superiority, 
with  which  Juliet  heard  the  beginning 
of  these  interrogatories,  was  converted 
into  extreme  confusion,  by  their  termi- 
nation, from  the  appearance  of  justice 
which  the  incidents  of  the  morning  had 
given  to  the  attack. 

"  For  now,"  continued  he,  "  that  you 
have  paid  all  your  debts,  you  ought  to 
hold  up  your  head  ;  for,  where  nothing 
is  owing,  we  are  all  of  us  equal,  rich  and 
poor  ;  another  man's  riches  no  more 
making  him  my  superiour,  or  benefactor, 
if  I  do  not  partake  of  them,  than  my 
poverty  makes  me  his  servant,  or  de- 
pendent, if  I  neither  work  for,  nor  am 
benefited  by  him.  And  I  am  your  wit- 
ness that  you  gave  every  one  his  due. 
So  don't  let  any  body  put  you  out  of 
your  proper  place." 

The  mortification  of  Juliet,  at  this 
pubhc  exhortation,  upon  a  point  so  de- 
licate, was  not  all  that  she  had  to  en- 
dure :  the  little  dog,  who,  though  inces- 
santly tormented  by  the  little  boy, 
Q  2 


(     340     ) 

always  followed  him ;  kept  scratching 
her  gown,  to  be  helped  up  to  the  window, 
that  he  naight  play  with,  or  snarl  at  him, 
more  at  his  ease  ;  and  the  boy,  making 
a  whip  of  his  pocket-handkerchief,  con- 
tinually attracted,  though  merely  to  re- 
pulse him  ;  while  Juliet,  seeking  alter- 
nately to  quiet  both,  had  not  a  moment's 
rest. 

"  Why  now,  what's  all  this  my  pretty 
lady  ?*'  cried  Mr.  Giles,  perceiving  her 
situation.  "  Why  do  you  let  those  two 
plagueful  things  torment  you  so  ?  Why 
don't  you  teach  them  to  be  better 
behaved." 

"  Miss  Ellis  w^ould  be  vastly  obliging, 
certainly,'*  with  a  supercilious  brow, 
said  Mrs.  Ireton,  "  to  correct  my  ne- 
phew 1  I  don't  in  the  least  mean  to  con- 
test  her  abilities  for  superintending  his 
chastisement ;  not  in  the  least,  I  assure 
you  !  But  only,  as  I  never  heard  of  my 
brother's  giving  her  such  a  carte  hianche ; 
and  as  Idon't  recollect  having  given  it 
myself,  —  though  I  may  have  done  it, 
again,  perhaps,  in  my  sleep !  —  I  should 

13 


I   341    ) 

be  liappy  to  learn  by  what  authority  she 
would  be  invested  with  such  powers  of 
discipline  ?" 

"  By  what  authority  ?  That  of  huma- 
nity. Ma'am  !  Not  to  spoil  a  poor  igno- 
rant little  fellow-creature  5  nor  a  poor 
innocent  little  beast." 

"  It  would  be  immensely  amiable  of 
her.  Sir,  no  doubt,"  said  Mrs.  Ireton, 
reddening,  "  to  take  charge  of  the  mo- 
rals of  my  household ;  immensely !  I 
only  hope  you  will  be  kind  enough  to 
instruct  the  young  person,  at  the  same 
time,  how  she  may  hold  her  situation  ? 
That's  all !  I  only  hope  that !" 

"  How  ?  Why  by  doing  her  duty  !  If 
she  can't  hold  it  by  that,  'tis  her  duty 
to  quit  it.  Nobody  is  born  to  be 
trampled  upon." 

"  I  hope,  too,  soon,"  said  Mrs.  Ireton, 
scoffingly,  "  nobody  will  be  born  to  be 
poor !" 

"  Good !  true !"  returned  he,  nod- 
ding his  head.  ^'  Nobody  should  be 
poor  !  That  is  very  well  said.  However, 
if  you  think  her  so  poor,  I  can  give  you 

Q  3 


(     342     ) 

the  satisfaction  to  shew  you  your  mis- 
take. She  mayn't,  indeed,  be  very  richj^ 
poor  lady,  at  bottom  ;  but  still —  " 

"  No,  indeed,  am  I  not !"  hastily 
cried  Juliet,  frightened  at  the  communi- 
cation which  she  saw  impending. 

"  But  still,"  continued  he,  "  if  she  is 
poor,  it  is  not  for  want  of  money ;  nor  ' 
for  want  of  credit,  neither ;  for  she  has 
bank-notes  in  abundance  in  one  of  her 
"work-bags  ;  and  not  a.  penny  of  them  is 
her  own !  which  shews  her  to  be  a  person 
of  great  honour." 

Every  one  now  looked  awakened  to  a 
new  curiosity ;  and  Selina  exclaimed, 
*'  O  la  !  have  you  got  a  fortune,  then, 
my  dear  Ellis  ?  0 1  I  dare  say,  then, 
my  guess  will  prove  true  at  last !  for  I 
dare  say  you  are  a  princess  in  dis- 
guise ?" 

"  As  far  as  disguise,  goes  Selina," 
answered  Mrs.  Maple,  "  we  have  never, 
I  think,  disputed !  but  as  to  a  prinr 
cess  .....!" 

"  A  princess  ?"  repeated  Mrs.  Ireton, 


(     343     ) 

«^  Upon  my  word,  this  is  an  honour  I  had 
not  imagined  !  I  own  my  stupidity  1  I 
can't  but  own  my  stupidity  ;  but  I  really 
had  never  imagined  myself  so  much 
honoured,  as  to  suspect  that  I  had  a 
princess  under  my  roof,  who  was  so  com- 
plaisant as  to  sing,  and  play,  and  read  to 
me,  at  my  pleasure  ;  and  to  study  how- 
to  amuse  and  divert  me !  I  confess,  I 
had  never  suspected  it !  I  am  quite 
ashamed  «f  my  total  want  of  sagacity ; 
but  it  had  never  occurred  to  me  V* 

"  And  why  not.  Ma'am  ?''  cried  Mr. 
Giles.  "  \Vhy  may  not  a  princess  be 
pretty,  and  complaisant,  and  know  how 
to  sing  and  play,  and  read,  as  well  as 
another  lady  ?  She  is  just  as  able  to  learn 
as  you,  or  any  common  person.  I. never 
heard  that  a  princess  took  her  rank  in 
the  place  of  her  faculties.  I  know  no 
difference  ;  except  that,  if  she  does  the 
things  with  good  nature^  you  ought  to 
love  and  honour  her  the  double,  in  con- 
sideration of  the  great  temptation  she 
has  to  be  proud  and  idle,  and  to  do 
<^  4 


(      344     ) 

nothing.  We  all  envy  the  great,  when 
we  ought  only  to  revere  them  if  they  are 
good,  and  to  pity  them  if  they  are  bad  ; 
for  they  have  the  same  infirmities  that> 
we  have  ;  and  nobody  that  dares  put 
them  in  mind  of  them  :  so  that  they 
often  go  to  the  grave,  before  they 
find  out  that  they  are  nothing  but  poor 
little  men  and  women,  like  the  rest  of 
us.  For  my  part,  when  I  see  them 
worthy,  and  amiable,  I  look  up  to  them 
as  prodigies !  Whereas,  a  common  per- 
son, such  as  you,  or  I,  Ma'am,  — " 

Mrs.  Ireton,  unable  to  bear  this 
phrase,  endeavoured  to  turn  the  atten- 
tion of  the  company  into  another  chan- 
nel, by  abruptly  calling  upon  Juliet  to 
go  to  the  piano-forte. 

Juliet  entreated  to  be  excused. 

«  Excused  ?  And  why.  Ma'am  ? 
What  else  have  you  got  to  do?  What 
are  your  avocations  ?  I  shall  really 
take  it  as  a  favour  to  be  informed." 

"  Don't  teize  her,  pretty  lady  ;  don't 
teize  her,"    cried  Mr.  Giles.     "  If  she 


(     345     ) 

likes  to  sing,  it's  very  agreeable  \  but  if 
not,  don't  make  a  point  of  it,  for  it's 
not  a  thing  at  all  essential." 

"  Likes  it  ?"  repeated  Mrs.  Ireton, 
superciliously;  "  We  must  do  nothing, 
then,  but  what  we  like  ?  Even  when 
we  are  in  other  people's  houses  ?  Even 
when  we  exist  only  through  the  good- 
ness of  some  of  our  superiours  ?  Still 
we  are  to  do  only  what  we  like  ?  I  am 
quite  happy  in  the  information  !  Ex- 
tremely obliged  for  it,  indeed  !  It  will 
enable  me,  I  hope,  to  rectify  the  gross 
errour  of  which  I  have  been  guilty  ;  for 
I  really  did  not  know  I  had  a  young 
lady  in  my  house,  who  was  to  make  her 
will  and  taste  the  rule  for  mine  !  and,  as 
I  suppose,  to  have  the  goodness  to 
direct  my  servants  ;  as  well  as  to  take 
the  trouble  to  manage  me.  I  knew 
nothing  of  all  this,  I  protest.  I  thought, 
on  the  contrary,  I  had  engaged  a  young 
person,  who  would  never  think  of  taking 
such  a  liberty  as  to  give  her  opinion  ; 
but  who  would  do,  as  she  ought,  with 
Q  5 


(     346     ) 

respect  and  submission,  whatever  I 
should  indicate.'^  — 

«  Good  la,  Ma'am/'  interrupted  Mr. 
Giles  :  "  Why  that  would  be  leading  the 
life  of  a  slave  !  And  that,  I  suppose,  is 
what  they  meant,  all  this  time,  by  a  toad- 
eater.  However,  don't  look  so  ashamed, 
my  pretty  dear,  for  a  toad-eater-maker 
is  still  worse  !  Pie,  fie  !  What  can  rich 
people  be  thinking  of,  to  lay  out  their 
money  in  buying  their  fellow- creatures' 
liberty  of  speech  and  thought !  and  then 
paying  them  for  a  bargain  which  they 
ought  to  despise  them  for  selling  ?" 

This  unexpected  retort  turning  the 
smiles  of  the  assembly  irresistibly  against 
the  lady  of  the  mansion,  she  hastily 
renewed  her  desire  that  Juliet  would 
sing. 

"  Sing,  Ma'am  ?"  cried  Mr.  Giles. 
€c  Why  a  merry-andrew  could  not  do  it, 
after  being  so  affronted  1  Bless  my  heart ! 
Tell  a  human  being  that  she  must  only 
move  to  and  fro,  like  a  machine  ?  Only 
say  what  she  is  bid,  like  a  parrot  I  Em« 
4 


(     347     ) 

ploy  her  time,  call  forth  her  talents, 
exact  her  services,  yet  not  let  her  make 
any  use  of  her  understanding  ?  Neither 
say  what  she  approves,  nor  object  tO; 
what  she  dislikes  ?  Poor,  pretty  young 
thing  !  You  were  never  so  much  to  be 
pitied,  in  the  midst  of  your  worst  dis* 
tresses,  as  when  you  were  relieved  upon 
such  terms!  Fie  upon  it,  fiel — Kow 
can  great  people  be  so  little  ?'' 

The  mingled  shame  and  resentment 
of  Mrs.  Ireton,  at  a  remonstrance  so 
extraordinary  and  so  unqualified,  were 
with  difficulty  kept  within  the  bounds  of 
decorum  ;  for  though  she  laughed,  and 
affected  to  be  extremely  diverted,  her 
laugh  w^as  so  sharp,  and  forced,  that  it 
wounded  every  ear;  and,  through  the 
amusement  that  she  pretended  to  re- 
ceive, it  was  obvious  that  she  suffered 
torture,  in  restraining  herself  from 
ordering  her  servants  to  turn  the  orator 
out  of  the  room. 

With  looks  much  softened,  though  in 
a  manner    scarcely    less   fervent,    Mr. 
a  6 


(     348     ) 

Giles  then,  approaching  Juliet,  repeated, 
"  Don't  be  cast  down,  I  say,  my  pretty 
lady!  You  are  none  .the  worse  for  all 
this.  The  thing  is  but  equal,  at  last ; 
so  we  must  not  always  look  at  the  bad 
side  of  our  fate.  State  every  thing 
fairly ;  you  have  got  your  talents,  your 
prettiness,  and  your  winning  ways, — 
but  you  want  these  ladies'  wealth  :  they, 
liave  got  their  wealth,  their  grandeur, 
and  tkeir  luxuries  ;  but  they  want  your 
powers  of  amusing.  You  can't  well  do 
without  one  another.  So  it's  best  be 
friends  on  both  sides." 

Mrs.  Ireton,  now,  dying  to  give  some 
vent  to  her  spleen,  darted  the  full 
venom  of  her  angry  eyes  upon  Juliet,  and 
called  out,  "  You  don't  see,  I  presume, 
Miss  Ellis,  what  a  condition  Bijou  has 
put  that  chair  in  ?  'T  would  be  too  great 
a  condescension  for  you,  I  suppose, 
just  to  give  it  a  little  pat  of  the  hand,  to 
shake  off  the  crumbs?  Though  it  is  not 
your  business,  I  confess  !  I  confess  that 
it  is  not  your  business  !  Perhaps,  there- 


(     349     ) 

fore,  I  am  guilty  of  an  indiscretion  in 
giving  you  such  a  hint.  Perhaps  I  had 
better  let  Lady  Kendover,  or  Lady  Ar- 
ramede,  or  Mrs.  Brinville,  or  any  other 
of  the  ladies,  sit  upon  the  dirt,  and 
soil  their  clothes?  You  may  think, 
perhaps,  that  it  will  be  for  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  mercer,  or  the  linen- 
draper  ?  You  may  be  considering  the 
good  of  trade  ?  or  perhaps  you  may 
think  I  may  do  such  sort  of  menial 
offices  for  myself?'' 

However  generally  power  may  cause 
timidity,  arrogance,  in  every  generous 
mind,  awakens  spirit ;  Juliet,  therefore, 
raising  her  head,  and,  clearing  her 
countenance,  with  a  modest,  but  firm 
step,  moved  silently  towards  the  door. 

Astonished  and  offended,  "  Permit 
me.  Madam,"  cried  Mrs.  Ireton ;  "  per- 
mit me.  Miss  Elhs,  —  if  it  is  not  taking 
too  great  a  liberty  with  a  person  of  your 
vast  consequence,  —  permit  me  to  en- 
quire who  told  you  to  go  ?" 

Juliet   turned    back    her    head,    and 


(     350     ) 

quietly  answered,  "  A  person.  Madam, 
who  has  not  the  honour  to  be  known  to 
you,  —  myself!"  And  then  steadily  left 
the  room. 


(    3SI    ) 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

A  N  answer  so  little  expected,  from 
one  whose  dependent  state  had 
been  so  freely  discussed,  caused  a  ge- 
neral surprize,  and  an  almost  universal 
demand  of  who  the  young  person  might 
be,  and  what  she  could  mean.  The 
few  words  that  had  dropt  from  her 
had  as  many  commentators  as  hearers. 
Some  thought  their  inference  import- 
ant ;  others,  their  mystery  suspicious ; 
and  others  mocked  their  assumption 
of  dignity.  Tears  started  into  the  eyes 
of  Lady  Barbara  ;  while  those  of  Sir 
Jaspar  were  fixed,  meditatively,  upon 
the  head  of  his  crutch  ;  but  the  com- 
placent smile  of  admiration,  exhibited 
by  Mr.  Giles,  attracted  the  notice  of 
the  whole  assembly,  by  the  peals  of 
laughter  which  it  excited  in  the  Miss 
Crawleys. 


-     (     352     ) 

Vvith  rage  difficultly  disguised  with- 
out, but  v/holly  ungovernable  within, 
Mrs.  Ireton  would  instantly  have  re- 
venged what  she  considered  as  the 
most  heinous  affront  that  she  had  ever 
received,  by  expeUing  its  author  igno- 
miniously  from  her  house,  but  for  the 
still  sharpened  curiosity  with  which 
her  pretentions  to  penetration  became 
piqued,  from  the  general  cry  of  "  How 
very  extraordinary  that  Mrs.  Ireton  has 
never  been  able  to  discover  who  she  is!" 

When  Juliet,  therefore,  conceiving 
her  removal  from  this  mansion  to  be  as 
inevitable,  as  her  release  from  its  ty- 
ranny was  desirable,  made  known,  as 
soon  as  the  company  was  dispersed,  that 
she  was  ready  to  depart  \  she  was  sur- 
prised by  a  request,  from  Mrs.  Ireton, 
to  stay  a  day  or  two  longer ;  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  care  of  Mr.  Loddard 
the  following  morning ;  as  Mrs.  Ireton, 
who  had  no  one  with  whom  she  could 
trust  such  a  charge,  had  engaged  her- 
self to  join  a  party  to  see  Arundel 
Castle. 


(     353     ) 

Little  as  Juliet  felt  disposed  to  renew 
lier  melancholy  wanderings,  her  situation 
in  this  house  appeared  to  her  so  humi- 
liating, nay  degrading,  that  neither  this 
message,  nor  the  fawning  civilities  with 
which,  at  their  next  meeting,  Mrs.  Iretpn 
sought  to  mitigate  her  late  asperity, 
could  prevail  with  her  to  consent  to  any 
delay  beyond  that  which  was  necessary 
for  obtaining  the  counsel  of  Gabriella  ;  to 
whom  she  wrote  a  detailed  account  of 
what  had  passed ;  adding,  "  How  long 
must  I  thus  waste  my  time  and  my 
existence,  separated  from  all  that  can 
render  them  valuable,  while  fastened 
upon  by  constant  discomfort  and  dis- 
gust ?  O  friend  of  my  heart,  friend  of 
my  earliest  years,  earliest  feelings,  juve- 
nile happiness, —  and,  alas  !  maturer  sor- 
rows !  why  must  we  thus  be  sundered  in 
adversity  ?  Oh  how,  —  with  three-fold 
toil,  should  I  revive  by  the  side  of  my 
beloved  Gabriella  !  —  Dear  to  me  by 
every  tie  of  tender  recollection  ;  dear 
to  me  by  the  truest  compassion  for  her 


(     354     ) 

sufferings,  and  reverence  for  her  rpsig- 
nation  ;  and  dear  to  me,  —  thrice  dear  I 
by  the  sacred  ties  of  gratitude,  which 
bind  me  for  ever  to  her  honoured  mo- 
ther, and  to  her  venerated,  saint-iike 
uncle,  my  pious  benefactor  !" 

She  then  tenderly  proposed  their  im- 
mediate re-union,  at  whatever  cost  of 
fatigue,  or  risk,  it  might  be  obtained  j 
and  besought  Gabriella  to  seek  some 
small  room,  and  to  enquire  for  some 
needle-work;  determining  to  appro- 
priate to  a  journey  to  town,  the  little 
sum  which  she  might  have  to  receive 
for  the  long  and  laborious  fortnight, 
which  she  had  consigned  to  the  terrible 
enterprize  of  aiming  at  amusing,  serving, 
or  interesting,  one  whose  sole  taste  of 
pleasure  consisted  in  seeking,  like  Strife, 
in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  occasion  for 
dissension. 

With  the  apprehension,  however,  of 

.  losing,  the  desire  of  retaining  her  always 

revived;    and   now,    as    usual,    proved 

some  check  to  the  recreations  of  spleen. 


(    355     ) 

in  which  Mrs.  Ireton  ordinarily  in- 
dulged herself.  Yet,  even  in  the  midst 
of  intended  concession,  the  love  of  tor- 
menting was  so  predominant,  that,  had 
the  resolution  of  Juliet  still  wavered, 
whether  to  -seek  some  new  retreat,  or 
still  to  support  her  present  irksome  si- 
tuation, all  indecision  would  have  ceased 
from  fresh  disgust,  at  the  sneers  which 
insidiously  found  their  way  through 
every  effort  at  civility.  What  had  dropt 
from  Mr.  Giles  Arbe,  relative  to  the 
bank-notes,  had  excited  curiosity  in 
all;  tinted,  in  some,  with  suspicion, 
and,  in  Mrs.  Ireton,  blended  with 
mahgnity  and  wrath,  that  a  creature 
whom  she  pleased  herself  to  consider, 
and  yet  more  to  represent,  as  depen- 
dent upon  her  bounty  for  sustinence, 
should  have  any  resources  of  her  own. 
Nor  was  this  displeasure  wholly  free 
from  surmises  the  most  disgraceful ; 
though  to  those  she  forbore  to  give  vent, 
conscious  that  to  suggest  them  would 
stamp  with  impropriety  all  further  inter- 


c  355  ) 

course  with  their  object.  And  a  mo* 
ment  that  offered  new  food  for  inquisi- 
tion, was  the  last  to  induce  Mrs,  Ireton 
to  relinquish  her  protegee.  She  confined 
her  sarcasms,  therefore,  when  she  could 
not  wholly  repress  them,  to  oblique  re- 
marks upon  the  happiness  of  those  who 
w^ere  able  to  lay  by  private  stores  for 
secret  purposes ;  lamenting  that  such 
was  not  her  fate ;  yet  congratulating 
herself  that  she  might  now  sleep  in 
peace,  w^ith  respect  to  any  creditors^ 
since,  should  she  be  threatened  with 
an  execution,  her  house  had  a  rich  in- 
mate, by  whom  she  flattered  herself  that 
she  should  be  assisted  to  give  bail. 

Already,  the  next  morning,  her  re- 
solution with  regard  to  her  nephew  was 
reversed  ;  and,  the  child  desiring  the 
change  of  scene,  she  gave  directions 
that  Miss  Ellis  should  prepare  herself  to 
take  him  in  charge  during  the  excur- 
sion. 

But  Juliet  w^as  now  initiated  in  the 
services  and  the  endurance  of  an  hum- 


(    357    ) 

ble  companion  in  public  ;  she  offered, 
therefore,  to  amuse  and  to  watch  him 
at  home,  but  decidedly  refused  to  attend 
him  abroad  ;  and  her  evident  indifference 
whether  to  stay  or  begone  herself,  forced 
Mrs.  Ireton  to  deny  the  humoured  boy 
his  intended  frolic. 

Little  accustomed  to  any  privation, 
and  totally  unused  to  disappointment,  the 
young  gentleman,  when  his  aunt  was  pre- 
paring to  depart,  had  recourse  to  his 
usual  appeals  against  restraint  or  autho- 
rity, clamourous  cries  and  unappeasable 
blubbering.  Juliet,  to  whose  room  he 
refused  to  mount,  was  called  upon  to 
endeavour  to  quiet  him,  and  to  entice 
him  into  the  garden  ;  that  he  might  not 
hear  the  carriage  of  his  aunt  draw  up  to 
the  door. 

But  this  commission  the  refractory 
spirit  of  the  young  heir  made  it  impos- 
sible to  execute,  till  he  overheard  a 
whisper  to  Juliet,  that  she  would  take 
care,  should  Mr.  Loddard  chuse  to  go 
to  the  Temple,  to  place  the  silk-worms 
above  his  reach. 


(     3S8     ) 

Suddenly,  then,  he  sprang  from  his 
consolers  and  attendants,  to  run  forward 
to  the  forbidden  fruit  ;  and,  with  a  ce- 
lerity that  made  it  difficult  for  Juliet, 
even  with  her  utmost  speed,  and  longer 
limbs,  to  arrive  at  the  spot,  in  time  to 
prevent  the  mischief  for  which  she  saw 
him  preparing.  She  had  just,  however, 
succeeded,  in  depositing  the  menaced 
insects  upon  a  high  bracket,  when  a 
footman  came  to  whisper  to  her  the 
commands  of  his  lady,  that  she  would 
detain  Mr.  Loddard  till  the  party  should 
be  set  off. 

Before  the  man  had  shut  himself  out, 
Ireton,  holding  up  his  finger  to  him  in 
token  of  secresy,  slipt  past  him  into  the 
little  building ;  and,  having  turned  the 
key  on  the  inside,  and  put  it  into  his 
pocket,  said,  "  I'll  stand  centinei  for 
little  Pickle  1"  and  flung  himself,  loung- 
ingly,  npon  an  arm-chair. 

Confounded  by  this  action,  yet  i'eeVmg 
it  necessary  to  appear  unintimidated, 
Juliet  affected  to  occupy  herself  with  the 


(     359     )    • 

silk-vvorms  ;  of  wliicli  the  young  gentle- 
man now,  eager  to  romp  with  Ire  ton, 
thought  no  more. 

"  At  last,  then,  I  have  caughtyou,  my 
skittish  clear !"  cried  Ireton,  while  jump- 
ing about  the  little  boy,  to  keep  him  in 
good  humour.  "  I  have  had  the  devil  of 
a  difficulty  to  contrive  it.  However,  I 
shall  make  miyself  amends  now,  for  they 
are  all  going  to  Arundel  Castle,  and  you 
and  I  can  pass  the  morning  together." 

The  indignant  look  which  this  bold- 
ness excited,  he  pretended  not  to  ob- 
serve, and  went  on. 

"  I  can't  possibly  be  easy  without 
having  a  little  private  chat  vvith  you.  I 
must  consult  you  about  my  affairs,  I 
want  devilisbly  to  make  you  my  friend. 
You  might  be  capitally  useful  to  me. 
And  you  v/ould-lind  your  account  in  it, 
I  promise  you.  AVhat  sayst  thee,  my 
pretty  one  ?" 

Juliet,  not  appearing  to  hear  him, 
changed  the  leaves  of  the  silk-worms. 

^'  Can  you  guess  what  it  is  brings  me 


(     36o    ) 

hither  to  old  madam  my  mother's  ?  It 
is  not  yon,  with  all  your  beauty,  you 
arch  prude  ;  though  I  have  a  great  en- 
joyment in  looking  at  you  and  your 
blushes,  which  are  devilishly  handsome, 
I  own  ;  yet,  to  say  the  truth,  you  are 
not  —  all  together  —  I  don't  know  how 
it  is — but  you  are  not  —  upon  the 
whole  —  quite  exactly  to  my  taste. 
Don't  take  it  ill,  my  love,  for  you  are  a 
devilish  fine  girl.  I  own  that.  But  I 
want  something  more  skittish,  more 
wild,  mor^  eccentric.  If  I  were  to  fix 
my  fancy  upon  such  symmetry  as  you, 
I  should  be  put  out  of  my  way  every 
moment.  I  should  always  be  thinking 
I  had  some  Minerva  tutoring,  or  some 
Juno  awing  me.  It  would  not  do  at  all. 
I  want  something  of  another  cast ; 
something  that  will  urge  me  when  I 
am  hippish,  without  keeping  me  in 
order  when  I  am  whimsical.  Some- 
thing  frisky,  flighty,  fantastic,  —  yet 
panting,  blushing,  dying  with  love  for 
me!—" 


(    36i     ) 

Neither  contempt  nor  indignation 
were  of  sufficient  force  to  preserve  the 
gravity  of  Juliet,  at  this  unexpected  in- 
genuousness of  vanity. 

"  You  smile  ?"  he  cried  ;  "  but  if  you 
knew  v/hat  a  deuced  difficult  thing  it  is, 
for  a  man  who  has  got  a  little  money,  to 
please  himself,  you  would  find  it  a  very 
serious  affair.  How  the  deuce  can  he 
be  sure  whether  a  woman,  when  once 
he  has  married  her,  would  not,  if  her 
settlement  be  to  her  liking,  dance  at  his 
funeral  ?  The  very  thought  of  that 
would  either  carry  me  off  in  a  fright 
within  a  month,  or  make  me  want  to 
live  for  ever,  merely  to  punish  her.  It's 
a  hard  thing  having  money !  a  deuced 
hard  thing!  One  does  not  know  who  to 
trust.  A  poor  man  may  find  a  wife  in  a 
moment,  for  if  he  sees  any  one  that 
likes  him,  he  knows  it  is  for  himself; 
but  a  rich  man,  —  as  Sir  Jaspar  says,  — 
can  never  be  sure  whether  the  womaa 
who  marries  him,  would  not,  for  the 
same  pin-money,  just  as  willingly  follow 

VOL.  Ill,  R 


(    362     ) 

him  to  the  outside  of  the  church,  as  to 
the  inside  !" 

At  the  name  of  Sir  Jaspar,  JiiHet  in- 
voluntarily gave  some  attention,  thoug/i 
she  would  make  no  reply. 

<«  From  the  time,"  continued  Ireton, 
«'  that  I  heard  him  pronounce  those 
words,  I  have  never  been  able  to 
satisfy  myself;  nor  to  find  out  what 
would  satisfy  me.  At  least  not  till 
lately  ;  and  now  that  I  know  what  I 
want,  the  difficulty  of  the  business  is  to 
get  it !  And  this  is  what  I  wish  to  con- 
sult with  you  about ;  for  you  must 
know,  my  dear,  I  can  never  be  happy 
without  being  adored." 

Juliet,  now,  was  surprised  into  sud- 
denly looking  at  him,  to  see  whether  he 
were  serious. 

"  Yes,  adored !  loved  to  distraction  ! 
I  must  be  idolized  for  myself,  myself 
alone ;  yet  publicly  worshiped,  that  all 
mankind  may  see,  — and  envy,  — the 
passion  I  have  been  able  to  inspire !" 
Suspecting  that  he  meant  some  satire 


(     3^3     ) 

upon  Elinor,  Juliet  again  fixed  her  eyes 
upon  her  silk-worms. 

«  So  you  don't  ask  me  what  it  is  that 
makes  me  so  devilish  dutiful  all  of  a 
sudden,  in  visiting  my  mamma?  You 
think,  perhaps,  I  have  some  debts  to 
pay  ?  No  ;  I  have  no  taste  for  gaming. 
It's  the  cursedest  fatiguing  thing  in  the 
world.  If  one  don't  mind  what  one's 
about,  one  is  blown  up  in  a  moment ; 
and  to  be  always  upon  one's  guard,  is 
worse  than  ruin  itself.  So  I  am  upon  no 
coaxing  expedition,  J  give  you  my  word. 
What  do  you  think  it  is,  then,  that  brings 
me  hither  ?  Cannot  you  givess  ?  —  Hay  ? 
■ —  Why  it  is  to  arrange  something,  some- 
how or  other,  for  getting  myself  from 
under  this  terrible  yoke,  that  seems  upon 
the  point  of  enslaving  me.  My  neck 
feels  galled  by  it  already!  I  have 
naturally  no  taste  for  matrimony.  And 
now  that  the  business  seems  to  be  draw- 
ing to  a  point,  and  I  am  called  upon  to 
name  my  lawyer,  and  cavilled  with  to 
declare,  to  the  uttermost  sixpence,  what 

R   2 


(     3^4    ) 

I  will  do,  and  what  I  will  give,  to  make 
my  wife  merry  and  comfortable  upon 
my  going  out  of  the  world,  —  I  protest 
I  shudder  with  horrour !  I  think  there  is 
nothing  upon  earth  so  mercenary,  as  a 
young  nymph  upon  the  point  of  becom- 
ing a  bride  1" 

"  Except, — "  Juliet  here  could  not 
resist  saying,  "  except  the  man, — young 
or  old,  —  who  is  her  bridegroom  !" 

"  G,  that's  another  thing!  quite  an- 
other thing  !  A  man  must  needs  take 
care  of  his  house,  and  his  table,  and  all 
that :  but  the  horridest  thing  I  know,  is 
the  condition  tied  to  a  man's  obtaining 
the  hand  of  a  young  woman  ;  he  can 
never  solicit  it,  but  by  giving  her  a  pros- 
pect of  his  death-bed  !  And  she  never 
consents  to  hve  with  him,  till  she  knows 
what  she  may  gain  by  his  dying  !  'Tis 
the  most  shocking  style  of  making  love 
that  can  be  imagined.  I  don't  like  it,  I 
swear  !  What,  now,  would  you  advise 
me  to  do  ?" 


(    3^5    ) 

"  Yes  ;  you  know  the  scrape  I  am  my 
don't  you  ?  Sir  Jaspar's-  estate,  in  case 
he  should  have  no  children,  is  entailed 
upon  me  ;  and,  in  case  I  should  have 
none  neither,  is  entailed  upon  a  cousin  ; 
the  heaviest  dog  you  ever  saw  in  your  life, 
whom  he  hates  and  despises  ;  and  whom 
I  wish  at  old  Nick  with  all  my  heart,  be- 
cause I  know  he,  and  all  his  family,  will 
wish  me  at  the  devil  myself,  if  I  marry 5 
and,  if  I  have  children,  will  wish  them 
and  my  wife  there.  I  hate  them  all  so 
heartily,  that,  w^henever  I  think  of  them, 
I  am  ready,  in  pure  spite,  to  be  tied  to 
the  first  girl  that  comes  in  my  way :  but, 
when  I  think  of  myself,  I  am  taken  with 
a  fit  of  fright,  and  in  a  plaguey  hurry  to 
cut  the  knot  off  short.  And  this  is  the 
way  I  have  got  the  character  of  a  male 
jilt.  But  I  don't  deserve  it,  I  assure 
you  ;  for  of  all  the  females  with  whom 
I  have  had  these  little  engagements, 
there  is  not  one  v/hom  I  have  seriously 
thought  of  marrying,  after  the  first  half 
hour.  They  none  of  them  hit  my  fancy 
further  than  to  kill  a  little  time." 

^  3 


(    3^6    ) 

The  countenance  of  Juliet,  tliougia 
she  neither  deigned  to  speak  nor  to  turn 
to  him,  marked  such  strong  disapproba- 
tion, that  he  thought  proper  to  add, 
"  Don't  be  affronted  for  little  Selina 
Joddrel :  I  really  meant  to  marry  her 
at  the  time ;  and  I  should  really  have 
gone  on,  and  *'  buckled  to,*'  if  the 
thing  had  been  any  way  possible  :  but 
she  turns  out  such  a  confounded  little 
fool,  that  I  can't  think  of  her  any 
longer." 

"  And  was  it  necessary, — "  Juliet 
could  not  refrain  from  saying,  "  to  en- 
gage her  first,  and  examine  whether  she 
could  make  you  happy  afterwards  ?'* 

"  Why  that  seems  a  little  awkward,  I 
confess  ;  but  it's  a  way  I  have  adopted. 
Though  I  took  the  decision,  I  own, 
rather  in  a  hurry,  with  regard  to  little 
Selina  j  for  it  was  merely  to  free  myself 
from  the  reproaches  of  Sir  Jaspar,  who, 
because  he  is  seventy-five,  and  does  not 
know  what  to  do  with  himself,  is  always 
regretting  that  he  did  not  take  a  wife 


(  36;  ) 

'when  he  was  a  stripling ;  and  always  at 
work  to  get  me  into  the  yoke.  But,  the 
truth  is,  I  promised,  when  I  went  abroad, 
to  bring  him  home  a  niece  from  France, 
or  Italy ;  unless  I  went  further  east ; 
and  then  I  w'ould  look  him  out  a  fair 
Circassian.  Now  as  he  has  a  great  taste 
for  any  thing  out  of  the  common  way, 
and  retains  a  constant  hankering  after 
Beauty,  he  was  delighted  with  the 
scheme.  But  I  saw  nothing  that  would 
do !  Nothing  I  could  take  to !  The  pretty 
ones  w^re  all  too  buckish ;  and  the 
steady  ones,  a  set  of  the  yellowest  frights 
I  ever  beheld." 

"  Alas  for  the  poor  ladies  !'* 
''  O,  you  are  a  mocker,  are  you  ?  — 
So  to  lighten  the  disappointment  to 
Sir  Jaspar,  I  hit  upon  the  expedient 
of  taking  up  with  little  Selina,  wlio 
was  the  first  young  thing  that  fell 
in  my  way.  And  I  was  too  tired  to  be 
difficult.  Besides,  what  made  her  the 
more  convenient,  was  her  extreme  youth, 
which  gave  me  a  year  to  look  about  me, 
R  4 


(    368    ) 

and  see  if  I  could  do  any  better 
But  she's  a  poor  creature  ;  a  sad 
poor  creature  indeed  1  quite  too  bad* 
So  I  must  make  an  end  of  the  business 
as  fast  as  possible.  Besides,  another 
thing  that  puts  me  in  a  hurry  is, — 
the  very  devil  would  have  it  so !  —  but 
I  hav*e  fallen  in  love  with  her  sister  ! — '* 

Juliet,  at  a  loss  how  to  understand 
him,  now  raised  her  eyes  ;  and,  not  with- 
out astonishment,  perceived  that  he  was 
speaking  with  a  grave  face. 

"  O  that  noble  stroke !  That  inimi- 
table girl !  Happy,  happy,  Harleigh  I 
That  fellow  fascinates  the  girls  the  more 
the  less  notice  he  takes  of  them  !  I  take 
but  little  notice  of  them,  neither ;  but, 
some  how  or  other,  they  never  do  that 
sort  of  thing  for  me  !  If  I  could  meet 
with  one  who  would  take  such  a  measure 
for  my  sake,  and  before  such  an  assem- 
|)]y^  —  I  really  think  I  should  worship 
her  r 

Then,  lowering  his  voice,  "You  may 
be  amazingly  useful  to  me,  my  angel," 


(    3^9    ) 

he  cried,  *^  in  this  new  affair.  I  know 
you  are  very  well  with  Harleigh,  though 
I  don't  know  exactly  how  ;  but  if,  — i 
nay,  hear  me  before  you  look  so  proud  I 
if  you'll  help  me,  a  little,  how  to  go  to 
work  with  the  divine  Elinor,  I'll  bind 
myself  down  to  make  over  to  you,  —  ia 
case  of  success,  —  mark  that  !  —  as 
round  a  sum  as  you  may  be  pleased 
to  name !" 

The  disdain  of  Juliet  at  this  propo- 
sition w^as  so  powerful,  that,  though 
she  heard  it  as  the  deepest  of  insults, 
indignation  was  but  a  secondary  feel- 
ing ;  and  a  look  of  utter  scorn,  with  a 
determined  silence  to  whatever  else  he 
might  say,  was  the  only  notice  it  re- 
ceived. 

He  continued,  nevertheless,  to  address 
her,  demanding  her  advice  how  to  ma- 
nage Harleigh,  and  her  assistance  how 
to  conquer  Elinor,  with  an  air  of  as 
much  intimacy  and  confidence,  as  if  he 
received  the  most  coi'dial  replies.  He 
purposed,  he  said,  unless  she  could 
^5 


(    Z70    ) 

counsel  him  to  something  better,  mak- 
ing an  immediate  overture  to  EHnor ; 
by  which  means,  whether  he  shoukl  ob- 
tain, or  not,  the  only  girl  in  the  world 
who  knew  how  to  love,  and  what  love 
meant,  he  should,  at  least,  in  a  very 
summary  w^ay,  get  rid  of  the  little 
Selina. 

Juliet  knew  too  well  the  slightness  of 
the  texture  of  the  regard  of  Selina  for 
Ireton,  to  be  really  hurt  at  this  defec- 
tion ;  yet  she  was  not  less  offended  at 
being  selected  for  the  confidant  of  so 
dishonourable  a  proceeding ;  nor  less 
disgusted  at  the  unfeeling  insolence  by 
which  it  was  dictated. 

An  attempt  at  opening  the  door  at 
length  silenced  him,  while  the  voice  of 
Mrs.  Ireton's  woman  called  out,  "  Good- 
ness! Miss  Ellis,  what  do  you  lock  yourself 
in  for  ?  My  lady  has  sent  me  to  you." 

Juliet  cast  up  her  eyes,  foreseeing  the 
many  disagreeable  attacks  and  surmises 
to  which  she  was  made  liable  by  this 
incident  5    yet  immediately  said   aloud. 


(    371    ) 

^^  Since  you  have  thought  proper,  Mr. 
Ireton,  to  lock  the  door,  for  your  own 
pleasure,  you  will,  at  least,  I  imagine, 
think  proper  to  open  it  for  that  of 
Mrs.  Ireton.'* 

"  Deuce  take  me  if  I  do  !'*  cried  he, 
in  a  low  voice  :  "  manage  the  matter  as 
you  will  {  I  have  naturally  no  taste  for 
a  prude  ;  so  I  always  leave  her  to  work 
her  way  out  of  a  scrape  as  well  as  she 
can.  But  I'll  see  you  again  when  they 
are  all  oft.''  Then,  throwing  the  key 
upon  her  lap,  he  softly  and  laughingly 
escaped  out  of  the  window. 

Provoked  and  vexed,  yet  helpless, 
and  without  any  means  of  redress,  Juliet 
opened  the  door. 

"  Goodness!  Miss  Ellis,"  cried  the 
Abigail,  peeping  curiously  around, "  how 
droll  for  you  to  shutyourself  in  !  My  lady 
sent  me  to  ask  whether  you  have  seen 
any  thing  of  Mr,  Ireton  in  the  garden, 
or  about ;  for  she  has  been  ready  to  go 
ever  so  long,  and  he  said  he  was  setting 
off  first  on  horseback  ;  but  his  groom  is 
R  6 


come,  and  is  waiting  for  orders,  and  none 
of  us  can  tell  where  he  is.'' 

"  Mr.  Ireton,"  Juliet  quietly  an- 
swered, "  was  here  just  now  ;  and  I 
doubt  not  but  you  will  find  him  in  the 
garden." 

"  Yes,"  cried  the  boy,  "  he  slid  out 
of  the  window." 

"  Goodness !  was  he  in  here,  then, 
Master  Loddard  ?  Well!  my  lady'll  be  in 
a  fine  passion,  if  she  should  hear  of  it !" 

This  was  enough  to  give  the  tidings  a 
messenger  :  the  boy  darted  forward,  and 
reached  the  house  in  a  moment. 

The  Abigail  ran  after  him;  Juliet,  too, 
followed,  dreading  the  impending  storm, 
yet  still  more  averse  to  remaining  within 
the  reach  and  power  of  Ireton.  And 
the  knowledge,  that  he  would  now,  for 
the  rest  of  the  morning,  be  sole  master 
of  the  house,  filled  her  with  such  hor- 
rour,  of  the  wanton  calumny  to  which 
his  unprincipled  egotism  might  expose 
lier,  that,  rather  than  continue  under  the 
same  roof  with  a  character  so  unfeelingly 


(   in   ) 

audacious,  she  preferred  risking  all  the 
mortifications  to  which  she  might  be 
liable  in  the  excursion  to  Arundel 
Castle. 

Advanced  already  into  the  hall, 
dragged  thither  by  her  turbulent  little 
nephew,  and  the  hope  of  detecting  the 
hiding-place  of  Ireton,  stood  the  pa- 
troness wliom  she  now  felt  compelled  to 
soothe  into  accepting  her  attendance. 
Not  aware  of  this  purposed  concession, 
and  nearly  as  much  frightened  as  enraged, 
to  find  with  w^liom  her  son  had  been 
shut  up,  Mrs.  Ireton,  in  a  tone  equally 
querulous  and  piqued,  cried,  "  I  beg  you 
a  thousand  pardons.  Ma'am,  for  the  in- 
discretion of  which  I  have  been  guilty, 
in  asking  for  the  honour  of  your  com- 
pany to  Arundel  Castle  this  morning  I 
I  ouglit  to  make  a  million  of  apologies 
for  supposing  that  a  young  lady,  —  for 
you  are  a  lady,  no  doubt !  every  body 
is  a  lady,  now !  —  of  your  extraor- 
dinary turn  and  talents,  could  endure 
the  insupportable  insipidity  of  a  tete  a 


C    374    ) 

tfite  with  a  female  ;  or  the  dull  care 
of  a  bantling  ;  when  a  splendid,  flashy, 
rich,  young  travelled  gentleman,  chusing, 
also,  to  remain  behind,  may  be  tired,  and 
want  some  amusement !  'Twas  grossly 
stupid  of  me,  I  own,  to  expect  such  a 
sacrifice.  You,  who,  besides  these  pro- 
digious talents,  that  make  us  all  ap- 
pear like  a  set  of  vulgar,  uneducated 
beings  by  your  side ;  you,  who  revel 
also,  in  the  luxury  of  wealth  ;  who  wan- 
ton in  the  stores  of  Plutus ;  who  are 
accustomed  to  the  magnificence  of  un- 
accounted hoards  !  —  How  must  the 
whole  detail  of  our  existence  appear 
penurious,  pitiful  to  you  !  —  I  am  sur- 
prised how  you  can  forbear  falling 
into  fits  at  the  very  sight  of  us  !  But  I 
presume  you  reserve  the  brilliancy  of 
an  action  of  that  eclat ^  for  objects  better 
worth  your  while  to  dazzle  by  a  stroke  of 
that  grand  description  ?  I  must  have  lost 
my  senses,  certainly,  to  so  ill  appreciate 
my  own  insignificance!  I  hope  you'll  pity 
me  1  that's  all  i  I  hope  you  will  have  so 
much  unction  as  to  pity  me!" 
II 


(    375    ) 

If,  at  the  opening  of  this  harangue, 
the  patience  of  Juhet  nearly  yielded  to 
resentment,  its  length  gave  power  to 
reflection,  — which  usually  wants  but  time 
for  checking  impulse,  —  to  point  out  the 
many  and  nameless  mischiefs,  to  which 
quitting  the  house  under  similar  suspi- 
cions might  give  rise.  She  quietly,  there- 
fore, answered,  that  though  to  herself  it 
must  precisely  be  the  same  thing,  whe- 
ther Mr.  Ireton  were  at  home  or  abroad, 
if  that  circumstance  gave  any  choice  to 
Mrs.  Ireton,  she  would  change  her  own 
plans,  either  to  go  or  to  stay,  according  to 
the  directions  v;hich  she  might  receive. 

A  superiority  to  accusation  or  sur- 
mize thus  cool  and  decided,  no  sooner 
relieved  the  apprehensions  of  Mrs.  Ireton 
by  its  evident  innocence,  than  it  excited 
her  wrath  by  its  deliberate  indifference, 
if  not  contempt :  and  she  would  now 
disdainfully  have  rejected  the  attend- 
ance which,  the  moment  before,  she 
had  anxiously  desired,  had  not  the  little 
master  of  the  house,  who  had  seized  the 


(     376    ) 

opportunity  of  this  harangue  to  make 
his  escape,  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  car- 
riage at  the  door;  and  put  an  end  to  all 
contest,  by  stunning  all  ears,  with  an 
unremitting  scream  till  he  forced- him- 
self into  it ;  when,  overpowering  every 
obstacle,  he  obliged  his  aunt  and  Juliet 
to  follow;  while  he  issued  his  own  orders 
to  the  postilion  to  drive  to  Arundel 
Castle. 

Even  the  terrour  of  calumny,  that  most 
dangerous  and  banefid  foe  to  unpro- 
tected W'oman !  would  scarcely  have 
frightened  Juliet  into  this  expedition, 
had  she  been  aware  that,  as  soon  as  she 
was  seated  in  the  landau,  with  orders  to 
take  the  whole  charge  of  Mr.  Loddard, 
the  little  dog,  also,  v/ould  have  been 
given  to  her  management.  '^  Bijou  will 
like  to  take  the  air,"  cried  Mrs.  Ireton, 
languidly  ;  "  and  he  v/ili  serve  to  enter- 
tain Loddard  by  the  v/ay.  He  can  go 
very  well  on  Miss  Ellis's  lap.  Pretty 
little  creature  1  'Twpuld  be  cruel  ta 
leave  him  at  home  alone !" 


(     377     ) 

This  terrible  humanity,  which,  in  a 
hot  day,  in  the  middle  of  July,  cast 
upon  the  knees  of  Juliet  a  fat,  round, 
well  furred,  and  over-fed  little  animal, 
accustomed  to  snarl,  scratch,  stretch, 
and  roll  himself  about  at  his  pleasure, 
produced  fatigue  the  most  pitiless,  and 
inconvenience  the  most  comfortless. 
The  little  tyrant  of  the  party,  whose 
will  was  law  to  the  company,  found  no 
diversion  so  much  to  his  taste,  during 
the  short  journey,  as  exciting  the  churl- 
ish humour  of  his  fellow-favourite,  by 
pinching  his  ears,  pulling  his  nose,  fillip- 
ing his  claws,  squeezing  his  throat,  and 
twisting  round  his  tail.  And  all  these 
feats,  far  from  incurring  any  reprimand, 
were  laughed  at  and  applauded.  For 
Avhom  did  they  incommode?  No  one 
but  Miss  Ellis  ;  —  and  for  what  else  was 
Miss  Ellis  there  ? 

Yet  this  fatigue  and  disgust  might 
have  been  passed  over,  as  local  evils,  had 
they  ceased  with  the  journey;  and  had 
she  then  besn  at  liberty  to  look  at  what 


(     378     )   ■ 

remains  of  the  venerable  old  castle ;  to 
visit  its  ancient  chapel ;  to  examine  the 
genealogical  records  of  the  long  gal- 
lery ;  to  climb  up  to  the  antique  citadel, 
and  to  enjoy  the  spacious  view  thence 
presented  of  the  sea :  but  she  imme- 
diately received  orders  to  give  exercise 
to  Bijou,  and  to  watch  that  he  ran  into  no 
danger  :  though  Selina,  who  assiduously 
came  forward  to  meet  Mrs.  Ireton,  w^ith- 
out  appearing  even  to  perceive  Juliet, 
officiously  took  young  Loddard  in 
charge,  and  conducted  him,  with  hii 
aunt,  to  a  large  expecting  party,  long 
arrived^  and  now  viewing  the  citadel. 


(    379    ) 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

13  ELIEVED,  nevertheless,  through 
whatever  means  eiFected,  by  a  sepa- 
ration,  Juliet,  with  her  speechless,  though 
far  from  mute  companion,  went  forth  to 
seek  some  obscure  walk.  But  her  purpose 
was  defeated  by  the  junction  of  a  little 
spaniel,  to  which  Bijou  attached  himself, 
with  a  fondness  so  tenacious,  that  her 
utmost  efforts  either  to  disengage  them, 
or  to  excite  both  to  follow  her,  were 
fruitless  ;  Bijou  would  not  quit  the 
spaniel ;  nor  the  spaniel  his  post  near 
the  mansion. 

Not  daring  to  go  on  without  her  trou- 
blesome little  charge,  the  approach  of  a 
carriage  made  her  hasten  to  a  garden- 
seat,  upon  which,  though  she  could 
not  be  hidden,  she  might  be  less  con- 
spicuous. 

The   carriage,    familiar   to   her   from 


C    380   ) 

having  frequently  seen  it  at  Miss  Mat- 
son's,  was  that  of  Sir  Jaspar  Herrington. 
Not  satisfied,  though  she  had  no  right  to 
be  angry,  at  the  so  measured  politeness 
which  he  had  shewn  her  the  preceding 
day,  when  further  notice  would  have 
softened  her  mortifying  embarrassment, 
she  was  glad  that  he  had  not  remarked 
her  in  passing. 

She  heard  him  enquire  for  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton's  party,  which  he  had  promised  to 
join  ;  but,  affrighted  at  the  sound  of  the 
citadel,  he  said  that  he  would  alight, 
and  wait  upon  some  warm  seat  in 
the  grounds. 

In  descending  from  his  chaise,  one  of 
his  crutches  fell,  and  a  bonbonniere,  of 
which  the  contents  were  dispersed  upon 
the  ground,  slipt  from  the  hand  of  his  va- 
let. It  was  then,  and  not  without  chagrin, 
that  Juliet  began  further  to  comprehend 
the  defects  of  a  character  which  she  had 
thought  an  entire  composition  of  philan- 
thropy and  courtesy.  He  reviled  rather 
than  scolded  the  servant  to  whom  the 

7 


(     3Si     ) 

accident  had  happened  ;  and  treated  the 
circumstance  as  an  event  of  the  first 
importance.  He  cast  an  equal  share  of 
bhitne,  and  with  added  sha  ^^acss,  upon 
the  postiHon,  lor  not  having  advanced 
an  iiici)  nearer  to  the  stone-steps  ;  and 
uttered  invectives  even  virulent  against 
the  giuom,  that  he  had  not  come  for- 
ward to  help.  Angry,  because  vexed, 
with  all  around,  he  used  as  Httle  modera- 
tion in  his  wrath,  as  reason  in  his  re- 
pi  caches. 

Kow  superficia'ly,  thought  Juliet,  can 
we  judge  of  dispositions,  where  nothing 
is  seen  but  what  is  meant  to  be  shewn  ! 
where  nothing  is  pronounced  but  what 
is  prepared  for  being  heard  !  Had  I 
fixed  my  opinion  of  this  gentleman  only 
upon  what  he  intended  that  I  should  wit- 
ness, I  should  have  concluded  that  he 
had  as  much  urbanity  of  humour  as  of 
manners.  I  could  never  have  imagined, 
that  the  most  trifliLg  of  accidents  could, 
in  a  moment,  destroy  the  whole  har- 
mony of  hiS  temper ! 


(    3B2    ) 

In  the  midst  of  the  choleric  harangue 
of  the  Baronet,  against  which  no  one 
ventured  to  remonstrate,  the  little  dogs 
came  sporting  before  him  ;  and,  recol- 
lecting Bijou,  he  hastily  turned  his  head 
towards  the  person  upon  the  garden-seat, 
whom  he  had  passed  without  any  atten- 
tion, and  discerned  Juliet. 

He  hobbled  towards  her  without  de- 
lay^  warmly  expressing  his  delight  at 
so  auspicious  a  meeting:  but  the  air  and 
look,  reserved  and  grave,  with  which, 
involuntarily,  she  heard  him,  brought  to 
his  consciousness,  what  the  pleasure  of 
her  sight  had  driven  from  it,  his  en- 
raged attack  upon  his  servants;  which 
she  must  unavoidably  have  witnessed^ 
and  of  which  her  countenance  shewed 
her  opinion. 

He  stood  some  moments  silent,  lean- 
ing  upon  his  crutches,  and  palpably 
disconcerted.  Then,  shrugging  hin 
shoulders,  with  a  half  smile,  but  a 
piteous  look,  "  Many,"  he  cried,  "  are 
the  tricks^  which  my  quaint  little  imps 


(    383     ) 

have  played  me  !  many,  the  quirks  and 
villainous  wiles  I  owe  them  ! — but  never 
yet,  v/ith  all  the  ingenuity  of  their  ma- 
lice, have  they  put  me  to  shame  and 
confusion  such  as  this !" 

Rising  to  be  gone,  yet  sorry  for  him, 
and  softened,  the  disapprobation  of  Ju- 
liet was  mingled  with  a  concern,  from 
her  disposition  to  like  him,  that  made 
its  expression,  in  the  eyes  of  her  old 
admirer,  seem  something  nearly  divine. 
He  looked  at  her  with  reverence  and  with 
regret,  but  made  no  attempt  to  pre- 
vent her  departure.  To  separate,  how- 
ever, the  dogs,  or  induce  the  spaniel  to 
go  further,  she  still  found  impossible ; 
and,  not  daring  to  abandon  Bijou,  was 
fain  quietly  to  seat  herself  again,  upon  a 
garden-chair,  nearer  to  the  house. 

Sir  Jaspar,  for  some  minutes,  re- 
mained, pensively,  upon  the  spot  where 
she  had  left  him ;  then,  again  shrugging 
his  shoulders,  as  if  bemoaning  hin  ill 
luck,  and  again  hobbling  after  her, 
"  There  is  nothing,"  he  cried,   "  thai 


(     384     ^ 

makes  a  man  look  so  small,  as  a  siiddea 
self-conviction  that  he  merits  ridicule  or 
disgrace !  what  intemperance  would  be 
averted,  could  we  believe  ourselves  al* 
ways, — not  only  from  above,  but  by  one 
another,  overheard  !  Don't  take  an  aver- 
sion to  me,  however  !  nor  suppose  me 
worse  than  I  am ;  nor  worse  than  the 
herd  of  mankind.  You  have  but  seen 
an  old  bachelor  in  his  true  colours  !  Not 
with  the  gay  tints,  not  with  the  spruce 
smiles,  not  with  the  gallant  bows,  the 
courteous  homage,  the  flowery  flou- 
rishes, with  which  he  makes  himself  up 
for  shew  ;  but  with  the  grim  colouring 
of  factious  age,  and  suspicious  ego- 
tism !" 

The  countenance  of  Juliet  shewing 
her  now^  to  be  shocked  that  she  had 
given  rise  to  these  apologies,  that  of  Sir 
Jaspar  brightened  -,  and,  dragging  a 
chair  to  her  side,  *'  I  came  hither,"  he 
cried,  "  in  the  fair  hope  to  seize  one  of 
those  happy  moments,  that  the  fates, 
now  and  then,  accord  to  favoured  raor- 


(    3^5    ) 

tals,  for  holding  interesting  and  dulcet 
discourse,  with  the  most  fascinating  en- 
chantress that  a  long  life,  filled  up  with 
fastidious,  perhaps  fantastic  researches 
after  female  excellence,  has  cast  in  my 
way.  Would  not  one  have  thought  'twas 
some  indulgent  sylph  that  directed  me  ? 
that  inspired  me  with  the  idea,  and  then 
seconded  the  inspiration,  by  contriving 
that  my  arrival  should  take  place  at  the 
critical  instant,  when  that  syren  was  to 
be  found  alone  ?  Who  could  have  sus- 
pected 'twas  but  the  envious  stratagem 
of  some  imp  of  darkness  and  spite,  de- 
vised purely  to  expose  a  poor  antiquated 
soul,  with  all  his  infirmities,  physical 
and  moral,  to  your  contempt  and  anti- 
pathy ?" 

Peering  now  under  her  hat,  ins  pe- 
netrating eyes  discerned  so  entire  a 
change  in  his  favour,  that  he  conj;:letely 
recovered  his  pleasantry,  his  quaint 
archness,  and  his  gallantry. 

"  If  betrayed,"  he  continued,  '^  by 
these    perfidious    elves,   where   may    a 

VOL.  uu  s 


(     386     ) 

poor  forlorn  solitary  wight,  such  as  I 
am,  find  a  counsellor  ?  He  has  no  bosom, 
friend,  like  the  happy  mortal,  whose 
kindly  star  has  guided  him  to  seek, 
in  lively,  all-attractive  youth,  an  equal 
partner  for  melancholy,  all  revolting 
age !  He  has  no  rising  progeny,  that, 
inheritors  of  his  interests,  naturally  share 
his  difficulties.  He  has  nothing  at  hand 
but  mercenary  dependents.  Nothing 
at  heart  but  jealous  suspicion  of  others, 
or  secret  repining  for  himself!  Such, 
fair  censurer !  such  is  the  natural  state 
of  that  unnatural  character,  an  old 
bachelor]  How,  then,  when  not  upon 
his  guard,  or.,  in  other  words,  when 
not  urged  by  some  outward  object,  some 
passing  pleasure,  or  some  fairy  hope, — 
bow,  —  tell  me,  in  the  candour  of  your 
gentle  conscience  !  how  can  you  expect 
from  so  decrepit  and  unwilHng  a  hermit, 
the  spontaneous  benevolence  of  youth?" 
"  But  what  is  it  I  have  said.  Sir," 
cried  Juliet  smiling,  "  that  makes  you 
denounce  me  as  a  censurer  ?" 


(     387    ) 

"  What  is  it  you  have  said?  ask, 
rather,  what  is  it  you  have  not  said,  with 
those  eyes  that  speak  with  an  eloquence 
that  a  thousand  tongues  might  emulate 
in  vain  ?  They  administered  to  me  a 
lesson  so  severe,  because  just,  that, 
had  not  a  little  pity,  which  just  now 
beamed  from  them,  revived  me^  the 
malignant  goblins,  who  delight  in 
drawing  me  into  these  scrapes,  might 
have  paid  for  their  sport  by  losing  their 
prey !  But  what  invidious  little  devils 
ensnare  me  even  now,  into  this  super- 
annuated folly,  of  prating  about  so  w^orn 
out  an  old  subject,  when  I  m.eant  only 
to  name  a  being  bright^  blooming,  and 
juvenile?'' 

The  recollection  of  his  nearly  com- 
plete neglect,  the  preceding  day,  in  pre- 
sence of  Mrs.  Ireton,  and  her  society, 
again  began  to  cloud  the  countenance 
of  Juliet,  as  she  listened  to  compliments 
thus  reserved  for  private  delivery.  Sir 
Jaspar  soon  penetrated  into  what  passed 
in  her  mind,  and,  yet  again  shrugging,' 
s   2 


C    388    ; 

his  shoulders,  and  resuming  the  sorrow- 
ful air  of  a  self-convicted  culprit, 
*'  Alas !"  he  cried,  "  under  what  pitiful 
star  did  I  first  begin  limping  upon  this 
nether  sphere  ?  And  what  foul  fiend  is 
it,  that,  taking  upon  him  the  name  of 
worldly  cunning,  has  fashioned  my  con- 
duct, since  here  I  hare  been  hopping 
and  hobbling  ?  I  burned,  yesterday,  with 
desire  to  make  public  my  admiration 
of  the  fair  flower,  that  I  saw  nearly 
trampled  under  foot ;  and  I  should  have 
considered  as  the  most  propitious  mo- 
ment of  my  life,  that  in  whieh  I  had  raised 
its  drooping  head,  by  withering,  with  a 
blast,  all  the  sickly,  noxious  surrounding 
weeds  :  but  those  little  devils,  that  never 
leave  me  quiet,  kept  twitching  and 
tweaking  me  every  instant,  with  repre- 
sentations of  prudence  and  procrastina- 
tion ;  with  the  danger  of  exciting  ob- 
servation ;  and  the  better  judgment  of 
obtaining  a  little  private  discourse,  pre- 
vious to  any  public  display." 

Not  able  to  divine  to  what  this  might 


(  389  ) 

be  the  intended  prelude,  Juliet  was 
silent.  Sir  Jaspar,  after  some  hesitation, 
continued. 

"  In  that  motley  assembly,  you  had 
two  antique  friends,  equally  cordial,  and 
almost  equally  admiring  and  desirous  to 
serve  you ;  but  by  different  means, — 
perhaps  with  different  views  !  one  of 
them,  stimulated  by  the  little  fairy 
elves,  that  alternately  enlighten  and 
mislead  him,  not  seeing  yet  his  way,  and 
embarrassed  in  his  choice  of  measures, 
was  lying  in  wait,  cautiously  to  avail 
himself  of  the  first  favourable  moment, 
for  soliciting  your  fair  leave  to  dub 
himself  your  knight-errant  j  the  other, 
urged  solely,  perhaps,  by  good-nature  and 
humanity,  with  an  happy  absence  of  mind, 
that  precludes  circumspection  j  coming 
forward  in  your  defence,  and  for  your 
honour,  with  unsuspecting,  unfearing, 
untemporising  zeal.  Alas  !  in  my  con- 
science, which  these  tormenting  little 
imps  are  for  ever  goading  on,  to  inflict 
upon  me  some  disagreeable  compliment, 
s   3 


C   390   ) 

I  cannot,  all  simple  as  he  is,  but  blush 
to  view  the  intrinsic  superiority  of  the 
unsophisticated  man  of  nature,  over  the 
artificial  man  of  the  world !  How  much 
more  truly  a  male  character.'* 

Looking  at  her  then  with  examining 
earnestness,  "  To  which  of  these  antedi- 
luvian wights,"  he  continued,  "  you  will 
commit  the  gauntlet,  that  must  be  flung 
in  your  defence,  I  know  not ;  either  of 
us, — alas  i — might  be  your  great  grand- 
father !  But,  helpless  old  captives  as  we 
are  in  your  chains,  we  each  feel  a  most 
sincere,  nay,  inordinate  desire,  to  break 
those  fetters  with  which,  at  this  moment, 
you  seem  yourself  to  be  shackled.  And 
for  this  I  am  not  wholly  without  a  scheme, 
though  it  is  one  that  demands  a  little 
previous  parleying." 

Juliet  positively  declined  his  services; 
but  gratefully  acknowledged  those  from 
Vt'hich  she  had  already,  though  involun- 
tarily, profited. 

"  You  cannot,  surely,"  he  cried,  "  have 
a  predilection  for  your  present  species 


(    391     ) 

of  existence  ?  and,  least  of  all,  under 
the  galling  yoke  of  this  spirit-breaking 
dame,  into  whose  ungentle  power  I 
cannot  see  you  fallen  without  losing 
sleep,  appetite,  and  pleasure.  How  may 
I  conjure  you  into  better  hands?  How 
release  you  from  such  bondage  ?  And 
yet,  this  pale,  withered,  stiff,  meagre 
hag,  so  odious,  so  tyrannical,  so  irascible, 
but  a  few  years,  —  in  my  calculation  !  — 
but  a  few  years  since,  —  had  all  the  en- 
chantment of  blithe,  blooiiiing  loveli- 
ness !  You,  who  see  her  only  in  her 
decline,  can  never  believe  it ;  but  she 
was  eminently  fair,  gay,  and  charming  1'' 

Juliet  looked  at  him,  astonished. 

'^  Her  story,"  he  continued,  "  already 
envelopes  the  memoirs  of  a  Beauty,  in  her 
four  stages  of  existence.  During  child- 
hood, indulged  in  every  wish  ;  admired 
where  she  should  have  been  chidden, 
caressed  where  she  should  have  been 
corrected  ;  coaxed  into  pettishness,  and 
spoilt  into  tyranny.  In  youth,  adored, 
followed,  and  applauded  till,  involun- 
s  4 


(     392     ) 

tarily,  rather  than  vainly,  she  believed 
herself  a  goddess.  In  maturity,  —  ah  1 
there's  the  test  of  sense  and  temper  in 
the  waning  beauty !  —  in  maturity, 
shocked  and  amazed  to  see  herself 
supplanted  by  the  rising  bloomers  j  to 
find  that  she  might  be  forgotten,  or  left 
out,  if  not  assiduous  herself  to  come 
forward ;  to  be  consulted  only  npon 
grave  and  dull  matters,  out  of  the  reach 
of  her  knowledge  and  resources ;  alter- 
nately mortified  by  involuntary  negli- 
gence, and  affronted  by  reverential 
respect !  Such  has  been  her  maturity  ; 
such,  amongst  faded  beauties,  is  the  ma- 
turity of  thousands.  In  old  age,  —  if 
a  lady  may  be  ever  supposed  to  suffer 
the  little  loves  and  graces  to  leave  her 
so  woefully  in  the  lurch,  as  to  permit 
her  to  know  such  a  state  ;  —  in  old  age, 
without  stores  to  amuse,  or  powers  to 
instruct,  though  with  a  full  persuasion 
that  she  is  endowed  with  wit,  because 
she  cuts,  wounds,  and  slashes  from  un- 
bridled, though  pent-up  resentment,  at 


(     393     ) 

her  loss  of  adorers ;  and  from  a  certain 
perverseness,  rather  than  quickness  of 
parts,  that  gifts  her  with  the  sublime 
art  of  ingeniously  tormenting ;  with  no 
consciousness  of  her  own  infirmities,  or 
patience  for  those  of  others ;  she  is 
dreaded  by  the  gay,  despised  by  the 
wise,  pitied  by  the  good,  and  shunned 
by  all." 

Then,  looking  at  Juliet  with  a  strong 
expression  of  surprise,  "  What  Will  o'the 
Wisp,"  he  cried,  "  has  misled  you  into 
this  briery  thicket  of  brambles,  nettles, 
and  thorns?  where  you  cannot  open  your 
mouth  but  you  must  be  scratched  5  nor 
your  ears,  but  you  must  be  wounded;  nor 
stir  a  word  but  you  must  be  pricked  and 
w^orried  ?  How  is  it  that,  with  the  most 
elegant  ideas,  the  most  just  perceptions 
upon  every  subject  that  presents  itself, 
you  have  a  taste  so  whimsical  ?" 

"  A  taste?  Can  you,  then.  Sir,  be- 
lieve a  fate  like  mine  to  have  any  con- 
nexion with  choice  ?" 

"  What  would  you  have  me  believe, 
s  5 


(     394     ) 

fair  Enigma  ?  Tell  me,  and  I  will  fashion 
my  credulity  to  your  commands.  But 
I  only  hear  of  you  with  Mrs.  Maple  ;  I 
only  see  you  with  Mrs.  Ireton  !  Mrs.  Ma- 
ple, having  weaker  parts,  may  have  less 
power,  scientifically,  to  torment  than 
Mrs.  Ireton  ;  but  nature  has  been  as  ac- 
tive in  personifying  ill  will  with  the  one, 
as  art  in  embellishing  spite  with  the 
other.  They  are  equally  egotists,  equally 
wrapt  op  in  themselves,  and  convinced 
that  self  alone  is  worth  living  for  in  this 
netherworld.  What  a  fate!  To  pass  from 
Maple  to  Ireton,  was  to  fall  from  Scylla 
to  Charybdis!" 

The  blush  of  Juhet  manifested  ex- 
treme confusion,  to  see  herself  repre- 
sented, even  though  it  might  be  in  sport, 
as  a  professional  parasite.  Reading,  with 
concern,  in  her  countenance,  the  pain 
which  he  had  caused  her,  he  exclaimed, 
**  Sweet  witch  1  loveliest  syren  ! — let  me 
hasten  to  develope  a  project,  inspired,  I 
must  hope,  by  my  better  genius  !  Tell 
me  but,  frankly,  who  and  Vv^hat  you  are, 
and  then  — '* 
6 


(    395     ) 

Juliet  shook  her  head. 

"  Nay,  nay,    should  your    origin   be 
the  most  obscure,  I  shall  but  think  you 
more  nearly  allied  to  the  gods  !  Jupiter, 
Apollo,   and   such  like   personages,  de- 
lighted in  a  secret  progeny.     If,  on  the 
contrary,    in    sparkling  correspondence 
with  your   eyes,  it  is  brilliant,  but  has 
been  clouded  by  fortune,  how  ravished 
shall  I  be  to  twirl  round  the  wheels  of 
that  capricious  deity,  till  they  reach  those 
dulcet  regions,  where  beauty  and  merit 
are  in  harmony  with  wealth  and  ease! 
Tell   me,  then,  what  country  first  saw 
you  bloom;  what  family  originally  reared 
you  ;  by  what  name  you  made  your  first 
entrance  into  the   world;  —  and  I  will 
turn    your   champion    against    all    the 
spirits  of  the    air,  all  the  fiends  of  the 
earth,  and  all  the  monsters  of  the  "  vast 
abyss  !"  Leave,  then,  to  such  as   need 
those  goaders,  the  magnetism  of  mystery 
and  wonder,  and  trust,  openly  and  se- 
curely, to  the  charm  of  youth,  the  fas- 
cination of  intelligence,    the   enchant- 
s  6 


(     396    ) 

ment   of  grace,    and   the   witchery   of 
beauty  !" 

Juliet  was  still  silent. 

"  I  see   you    take    me    for   a   vain, 
curious    old     caitiff,    peeping,    peering 
and  prying    into    business   in  which   I 
have  no  concern.     Charges  such  as  these 
are  ill   cleared  by  professions ;    let   me 
plead,  therefore,  by  facts.    Should  there 
be  a  person,  —  young,  rich,  cl  la  mode^ 
and  not  ugly;    whose  expectations  are 
splendid,  vvho  moves    in  the  sphere  of 
high   life,    who    could   terminate    your 
difficulties  with  honour,    by  casting  at 
your  feet  that  vile  dross,  which,  in  fairy 
hands,  such  as    yours,    may    be    trans- 
muted   into     benevolence,     generosity, 
humanity, — if  such  a  person  there  should 
be,  who  in  return  for  these  grosser  and 
more  substantial   services,  should  need 
the  gentler  and  more  refined  ones  of  soft 
society,   mild  hints,    guidance    unseen, 
admonition  unpronounced;  — would  you, 
and  could  you,    in   such  a   case,   con- 
descend to  reciprocate  advantages,  and 


(    397    ) 

their  reverse  ?  Would  you,  ■ —  and  could 
you,  —  if  snatched  from  unmerited  em- 
barrassments, to  partake  of  luxuries 
which  your  acceptance  would  honour, 
bear  with,  a  little  coxcomical  nonsense, 
and  with  a  larger  portion,  still,  of  un- 
meaning perverseness,  and  malicious 
nothingness  ?  I  need  not,  I  think,  say, 
that  the  happy  mortal  whom  I  wish  to 
see  thus  charmed  and  thus  formed,  is 
^my  nephew  Ireton." 

Uncertain  whether  he  meant  to  mock 
or  to  elevate  her,  Juliet  simply  answered, 
that  she  had  long,  though  without 
knowing  why,  found  Mr.  Ireton  her 
enemy  ;  but  had  never  foreseen  that 
an  ill  will  as  unaccountable  as  it  was 
unprovoked,  would  have  extended  so 
far,  and  so  wide,  as  to  spread  all 
around  her  the  influence  of  irony  and 
derision. 

«  Hold,  hold!  fair  infidel,'' —  cried 
Sir  Jaspar,  "  unless  you  mean  to  give 
me  a  fit  of  the  gout." 

He  then  solemnly  assured  her,  that 


(     39«    ) 

he  v/as  so  persuaded  that  her  excellent 
understanding,  and  uncommon  intelli- 
gence, united,  in  rare  junction,  with 
such  youth  and  beauty,  would  make 
her  a  treasure  to  a  rich  and  idle  young 
man,  whose  character,  fluctuating  be- 
tween good  and  bad,  or  rather  between 
something  and  nothing,  was  yet  un- 
formed ;  that,  if  she  would  candidly  ac- 
knowledge her  real  name,  story,  and 
situation,  he  should  merely  have  to  utter 
a  mysterious  injunction  to  Ireton,  that  he 
must  see  her  no  more,  in  order  to  bring 
him  to  her  feet.  "  He  acts  but  a  part," 
continued  the  Baronet,  "  in  judging  you 
ill.  He  piques  himself  upon  being  a 
man  of  the  world,  which,  he  persuades 
himself,  he  manifests  to  all  observers, 
by  a  hardy,  however  vague  spirit  of 
detraction  and  censoriousness  ;  deeming, 
like  all  those  whose  natures  have  not 
a  kindlier  bent,  suspicion  to  be  saga- 
city/' 

Juliet  was  entertained  by  this  singular 
plan,   yet  frankly  acknowledged,   after 


(     599     ) 

repeating  her  thanks,  that  it  offered  her 
no  temptation  ;  and  continued  immove- 
able, to  either  address  or  persuasion, 
for  any  sort  of  personal  communication. 

A  pause  of  some  minutes  ensued, 
during  which  Sir  Jaspar  seemed  delibe- 
rating how  next  to  proceed.  He  then 
said,  "  You  are  decided  not  to  hear  of 
my  nephew  ?  He  is  not,  I  confess,  de- 
serving you;  but  who  is  ?  Yet.  —  a  situa- 
tion such  as  this,  —  a  companion  sucli  as 
Mrs.  Ireton,  —  any  change  must  surely 
be  preferable  to  a  fixture  of  such  a  sort  ? 
What,  th.en,  must  be  doner  Yvliere 
youth,  youth  itself,  even  when  Joined 
to  figure  and  to  riches,  is  rejected,  how 
may  it  be  hoped  that  age,  —  age  and  in- 
firmity ! —  even  though  joined  with  all 
that  is  gentlest  in  kindness,  all  that  is 
most  disinterested  in  devotion,  may  be 
rendered  more  acceptable  ?" 

Confused,  and  perplexed  how^  to  un- 
derstand him,  Juliet  was  rising,  under 
pretence  of  following  Bijou ;  but  Sir 
Jaspar,  fastening  her  gown  to  the  grass 


(     400     ) 

by  his  two  crutches,  laughingly  said, 
<' Which  will  you  resist  most  stoutly? 
your  own  cruelty,  or  the  kindness  of  my 
little  fairy  friends  ?  who,  at  this  mo- 
ment, with  a  thousand  active  gambols, 
are  pinning,  gluing,  plaistering,  in 
sylphick  mosaic-work,  your  robe  be- 
tween the  ground  and  my  sticks ;  so 
that  you  cannot  tear  it  away  without 
leaving  me,  at  least,  some  little  memo- 
rial that  I  have  had  the  happiness  of 
seeing  you  !" 

Forced  either  to  struggle  or  to  remain 
in  her  place,  she  sat  still,  and  he  con- 
tinued. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  for  I  shall  cer- 
tainly not  offend  you.  Listen,  then, 
with  indulgence,  to  what  I  am  tempted 
to  propose,  and,  whether  I  am  impelled 
by  my  evil  genius,  or  inspired  by  my 
guardian  angel " 

Juliet  earnestly  entreated  him  to  spare 
her  any  proposition  whatever  ;  but 
vainly;  and  he  was  beginning,  with  a 
fervour  almost  devout,  an  address  to  all 


(     401     ) 

the  sylphs,  elves,  and  aertei  beings  of 
his  fanciful  idolatry,  when  a  sudden 
barking  from  Bijou  making  him  look 
round,  he  perceived  that  Mrs.  Ireton, 
advancing  on  tiptoe,  was  creeping  be- 
hind his  garden-chair. 

Confounded  by  an  apparition  so  un- 
wished,  he  leant  upon  his  crutches, 
gasping  and  oppressed  for  breath  ;  while 
Juliet,  to  avoid  the  attack  of  which  the 
malevolence  of  Mrs.  Ireton's  look  was 
the  sure  precursor,  would  have  retreated, 
had  not  her  gown  been  so  entangled  in 
the  crutches  of  Sir  Jaspar,  that  she 
could  not  rise  without  leaving  him  the 
fragment  that  he  had  coveted.  In 
vain  she  appealed  with  her  eyes  for  re- 
lease 'y  his  consternation  was  such,  that 
he  saw  only,  what  least  he  wished  to  see, 
the  scowling  brow  of  Mrs.  Ireton  ;  who, 
to  his  active  imagination,  appeared  to 
be  Megara*  herself,  just  mounted  from 
the  lower  regions. 

"  Well!  this  is  really  charming!  Quite 
edifying,  I  protest  !*'    burst  forth   Mrs. 


C    402    ) 

Iretoii,  when  she  found  that  she  was 
discovered.  "  This  is  a  sort  of  inter- 
course I  should  never  have  divined ! 
You'll  pardon  my  want  of  discernment ! 
I  know  I  am  quite  behind  hand  in  ob- 
servation and  remark ;  but  I  hope,  in 
time,  and  with  so  much  good  instruc- 
tion, I  may  become  more  sagacious. 
I  am  glad,  however,  to  see  that  I  don't 
disturb  you  Miss  Ellis  1  Extremely  glad 
to  find  that  you  treat  me  in  so  friendly 
a  way,  and  keep  your  place  so  amiably 
without  ceremony.  I  am  quite  en- 
chanted to  be  upon  terms  so  familiar  and 
agreeable  with  you.  I  may  sit  down 
myself,  I  suppose,  upon  the  grass,  mean- 
while !  •'Twill  be  really  very  rural !  very 
rural  and  pretty !" 

Juliet  now  could  no  longer  conceal 
her  confined  situation,  for,  pinioned  to 
her  place,  she  was  compelled  to  petition 
the  Baronet  to  set  her  at  liberty. 

The  real  astonishment  of  Mrs.  Ireton, 
upon  discovering  the  cause  and  means 
of  her  detention,  was  far  less  amusing  to 


(     403     ) 

herself,  than  that  which  she  had  affected, 
while  concluding  her  presumptuous  prO' 
tegee  to  be  a  voluntary  intruder  upon 
the  time,  and  encroacher  upon  the  po 
liteness  of  the  Baronet.  Her  eyes  now 
opened,  with  alarm,  to  a  confusion  so 
unusual  in  her  severe  and  authoritative 
brother-in-law ;  whom  she  was  accus- 
tomed to  view  awing  others,  not  himself 
awed.  Suggestions  of  the  most  un- 
pleasant nature  occurred  to  her  sus- 
picious mind  ;  and  she  stood  as  if 
thunderstruck  in  her  turn,  in  silent 
suspension  how  to  act,  or  w^hat  next  to 
say  ;  till  Selina  came  running  forward, 
to  announce  that  all  the  company  was 
gone  to  look  at  the  Roman  Catholic 
chapel ;  and  to  enquire  whether  Mrs. 
Ireton  did  not  mean  to  make  it  a 
visit. 

If  Sir  Jaspar,  Mrs.  Ireton  hesitatingly 
answered,  would  join  the  party,  she 
would  attend  him  with  pleasure. 

Sir  Jaspar  heard  not  this  invitation. 
In  his  haste  to  give  Juliet  her  freedom. 


C     404 

his  feeble  hands,  disobedient  to  his  will, 
and  unable  to  second  the  alacrity  of  his 
wishes,  struck  his  crutches  through  her 
gown  ;  and  they  were  now  both,  and  in 
equal  confusion,  employed  in  disen- 
tanghng  it ;  and  ashamed  to  look  up,  or 
to  speak. 

Selina,  perceiving  their  position,  with 
the  unmeaning  glee  of  a  childish  love  of 
communication,  ran,  tittering,  away,  to 
tell  it  to  Miss  Brinville ;  who,  saying 
that  there  was  nothing  worth  seeing  in 
the  Roman  Catholic  chapel,  was  saun- 
tering after  Mrs.  Ireton,  in  hopes  of 
finding  entertainment  more  congenial  to 
her  mind. 

The  sight  of  this  lady,  restored  to 
Mrs.  Ireton  the  scoffing  powers  which 
amazement,  mingled  with  alarm,  had 
momentarily  chilled ;  and,  as  Miss 
Brinville  peeringly  approached,  to  verify 
the  whisper  of  Sehna,  exclaiming, 
"  Dear!  what  makes  poor  Sir  Jaspar 
stoop  so  ?"  his  loving  sister-in-law  an- 
swered,   "  Sir  Jaspar,    Miss   Brinville  ? 


(     405     ) 

What  can  Sir  Jaspar  do  ?  I  beg  pardon 
for  the  question,  but  what  can  a  gentle- 
man do,  when  a  young  woman  happens 
to  take  a  fancy  to  place  herself  so  near 
him,  that  he  can't  turn  round  without 
incommoding  her  ?  Not  that  I  mean  to 
blame  Miss  Ellis.  I  hope  I  know  better. 
I  hope  I  shall  never  be  guilty  of  such  in- 
justice ;  for  how  can  Miss  Ellis  help  it  ? 
What  could  she  do  ?  Where  could  she 
turn  herself  in  so  confined  a  place  as  this  ? 
in  so  narrow  a  piece  of  ground  ?  How 
could  she  possibly  find  any  other  spot 
for  repose  ?" 

A  contemptuous  smile  at  Juliet  from 
Miss  Brinville,  shewed  that  lady's  ap- 
probation of  this  witty  sally ;  and  the 
junction  of  Mrs.  Maple,  whose  partici- 
pation in  this  kind  of  enjoyment  was 
known  to  be  lively  and  sincere,  exalted 
still  more  highly  the  spirit  of  poignant 
sarcasm  in  Mrs.  Ireton;  who,  with  smiles 
of  ineffable  self-complacency,  went  on, 
"  There  are  people,  indeed, — lam  afraid, 
— I  don't  know,  but  I  am  afraid  so, »— there 


(     406     ) 

are  people  who  may  have  the  ill  nature 
to  think,  that  the  charge  of  walking  out 
a  little  delicate  animal  in  the  grounds, 
did  not  imply  an  absolute  injunction  to 
recline,  with  lounging  elegance,  upon 
an  easy  chair.  There  are  people,  I  say, 
who  may  have  so  little  intelligence 
as  to  be  of  that  way  of  thinking. 
'Tis  being  abominably  stupid,  I  own, 
but  there's  no  enlightening  vulgar 
minds  !  There  is  no  making  them  see 
the  merit  of  quitting  an  animal  for  a 
gentleman  ;  especially  for  a  gentleman 
in  such  penury ;  who  has  no  means  to 
recompense  any  attentions  with  which 
he  may  be  indulged." 

Juhet,  more  offended,  now,  even  tlian 
confused,  would  willingly  have  torn 
her  gown  to  hasten  her  release ;  but 
she  was  still  sore,  from  the  taunts  of 
Mrs.  Ireton,  upon  a  recent  similar  mis- 
chief. 

They  were  presently  joined  by  the 
Arramedes ;  and  Mrs,  Ireton,  secure  of 
new  admirers,  fielt  her  powers  of  plea- 
santry encrease  every  moment. 


C   407    ) 

^«  I  hope  I  shall  never  fail  to  acknow- 
ledge," she  continued,  "  how  supremely 
I  am  indebted  to  those  ladies  who  have 
had  the  goodness  to  recom.mend  this 
young  person  to  me.  I  can  never  repay 
such  kindness,  certainly;  that  would  be 
vastly  beyond  my  poor  abilities  ;  for  she 
has  the  generosity  to  take  an  attachment 
to  all  that  belong  to  me  !  It  was  only 
this  morning  that  she  had  the  goodness 
to  hold  a  private  conference  with  my 
son.  Nobody  could  tell  where  to  find 
him.  He  seemed  to  have  disappeared 
from  the  whole  house.  But  no  !  he  had 
only,  as  Mr.  Loddard  afterwards  in- 
formed me,  stept  into  the  Temple, 
with  Miss  Ellis.'* 

Sir  Jaspar  now,  surprised  and  shocked, 
lifted  up  his  eyes  ;  but  their  quick  pene- 
tration instantly  read  innocence  in  the 
indignation  expressed  in  those  of  Juliet. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  however,  saw  only  her 
own  triumph,  in  the  malicious  simpers  of 
Miss  Brinville,  the  spiteful  sneers  of 
Mrs.  Maple,  and  the  haughty  scorn  of 
Lady  Arramede. 


(     4o8     ) 

Charmed,  therefore,  with  her  brilliant 
siicces?,  she  went  on. 

"  How  I  may  be  able  to  reward  kind- 
ness so  extraordinary,  I  can't  pretend  to 
say.  I  am  so  stupid,  I  am  quite  at  a  loss 
what  to  devize  that  may  be  adequate  to 
such  services ;  for  the  attentions  be- 
stowed upon  my  son  in  the  morning,  I 
see  equally  displayed  to  his  uncle  at 
noon.  Though  there  is  some  partiality, 
I  think,  too,  shewn  to  Ireton.  I  won't 
affirm  it ;  but  I  am  rather  afraid  there  i« 
some  partiality  shewn  to  Ireton;  for 
though  the  conference  has  been  equally 
interesting,  I  make  no  doubt,  with  Sir 
Jaspar,  it  has  not  had  quite  so  friendly 
an  appearance.  The  open  air  is  very 
delightful,  to  be  sure  ;  and  a  beautiful 
prospect  helps  to  enliven  one's  ideas;  but 
still,  there  is  something  in  complete  re- 
tirement that  seems  yet  more  romantic 
and  amicable.  Ireton  was  so  impressed 
with  this  idea,  as  I  am  told;  for  I 
don't  pretend  to  speak  from  my  own 
personal   knowledge    upon   subjects  of 


(     409     ) 

so  much  importance  ;  but  I  am  told,  — 
Mr.  Loddard  informs  me,  that  Ireton 
was  so  sensible  to  the  advantage  of  hav- 
ing the  honours  of  an  exclusive  con- 
ference, that  he  not  only  chose  that 
retired  spot,  but  had  the  precaution, 
also,  to  lock  the  door.  I  don't  mean  to 
assert  this !  it  may  be  all  a  mistake,  per- 
haps.   Miss  Ellis  €an  tell  best." 

Neither  the  steadiness  of  innate  disr- 
nity,  nor  the  fearlessness  of  conscious 
innocence,  could  preserve  Juliet  from  a 
sensation  of  horrour,  at  a  charge  which 
she  could  not  deny,  though  its  implica- 
tions were  false  and  even  atrocious.  She 
saw,  too,  that,  at  the  words  "  lock  the 
door,"  Sir  Jaspar  again  raised  his  inves- 
tigating eyes,  in  which  there  w^as  visibly 
a  look  of  disturbance.  She  w^ould  not, 
however,  deign  to  make  a  vindication,, 
lest  she  should  seem  to  acknowledge  it 
possible  that  she  might  be  thought  cul- 
pable ;  but,  being  now  disengaged,  she 
silently,  and  uncontrollably  hurt,  walked 
away. 

VOL,  III.  T 


C   410   ) 

"  And  pray,  Ma'am,"  said  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton,  "  if  the  question  is  not  too  imper- 
tinent, don't  you  see  Mr.  Loddard  com- 
ing ?  And  who  is  to  take  care  of 
Bijou  ?"  And  where  is  his  basket  ?  And 
I  don't  see  his  cushion  ?" 

Juliet  turned  round  to  answer,  ''  I 
will  send  them  Madam,  immediately.'* 

"Amazing  condescension!  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Ireton,  in  a  rage  that  she  no  longer 
aimed  at  disguising:  "  I  shall  never  be 
able  to  shew  my  sense  of  such  affability  ! 
Never !  I  am  vastly  too  obtuse,  vastly 
too  obtuse  ^.and  impenetrable  to  find 
any  adequate  means  of  expressing  my 
gratitude.  However,  since  you  really 
intend  me  the  astonishing  favour  of 
sending  one  of  my  people  upon  your 
own  errand,  permit  me  to  entreat,  —  if 
it  is  not  too  great  a  liberty  to  take  with 
a  person  of  your  unspeakable  rank, — 
permit  me  to  entreat  that  you  will  make 
use  oi'  the  same  vehicle  for  conveying 
to  me  your  account ;  for  you  are  vastly 
too  fine  a  lady  for  a  person  so  ordinary 


(     411     ) 

as  I  am  to  keep  under  her  roof.  I  have 
no  such  ambition,  I  assure  you  ;  not 
an  intention  of  the  kind.  So  pray  let 
me  know  what  retribution  I  am  to 
make  for  your  trouble.  You  have  takea 
vast  pains,  I  imagine,  to  serve  me  and 
please  me.  I  imagine  so !  I  must  be 
prodigiously  your  debtor,  I  make  no 
doubt !" 

"  What  an  excess  of  impertinence  I** 
cried  Lady  Arramede. 

"  She'll  never  know  her  place,"  said 
Mrs.  Maple  :  "  'tis  quite  in  vain  to  try 
to  serve  such  a  body." 

*'  I  never  saw  such  airs  in  my  life !" 
exclaimed  Miss  Brinville. 

Juliet  could  endure  no  more.  The 
most  urgent  distress  seemed  light  and 
immaterial,  when  balanced  against  sub- 
mission to  treatment  so  injurious.  She 
walked,  therefore,  straight  forward  to 
the  castle,  for  shelter,  immediate  shelter, 
from  this  insupportable  attack ;  dis- 
engaging herself  from  the  spoilt  little 
koy,  who  strove,  nay  cried  to  drag  her 

T    2 


C       412       ) 

back  ;  forcing  away  from  her  the  snarl- 
ing cur,  who  would  have  followed  her; 
and  decidedly  mute  to  the  fresh  com- 
mands of  Mrs.  Ireton,  uttered  in  tones 
-of  peremptory,  but  vain  authority. 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

/"^FFENDED,  indignant;  *  escaped, 
yet  without  safety  ;  free,  yet  with- 
out refuge  ;  Juliet,  hurried  into  the 
noble  mansion,  with  no  view  but  to  find 
an  immediate  hiding-place,  where,  un- 
seen, she  might  allow  some  vent  to  her 
woundedfeelings,  and,  unmarked,  remain 
till  the  haughty  party  should  be  gone, 
and  she  could  seek  some  humble  con- 
veyance for  her  own  return. 

Concluding  her  in  haste  for  some  com- 
mission of  Mrs.  Ireton's,  the  servants 
let  her  pass  neaily  unobserved  ;  and  she 
soon  came  to  a  long  gallery,  hung  wMth 
genealogical  tables  of  the  Arundel 
family,  and  v/ith  various  religious  re- 
liques,  and  historical  curiosities. 

Believing  herself  alone,  and  in  a  place 
of  which  the  stillness  suited  her  desire 
T  3 


(     414     ) 

of  solitude  and  concealment,  she  had 
already  sluit  the  door  before  she  saw  her 
mistake.  What,  then,  was  her  astonish- 
ment, what  her  emotion,  when  she  dis- 
cerned, seated,  and  examining  a  part  of 
the  hangings,  at  the  further  end  of  the 
gallery,  the  gentle  form  of  Lady  Aurora 
Granville  ! 

Sudden  transport,  though  mingled 
with  a  thousand  apprehensions,  instantly 
converted  every  dread  that  could  de- 
press into  every  hope  that  could  revive 
her.  A  start  evinced  that  she  was  seen. 
She  endeavoured  to  courtesy,  and  would 
have  advanced;  but,  the  first  moment 
over,  fear,  uncertainty,  and  conflicting 
doubts  took  place  of  its  joy,  and  robbed 
her  of  force.  Her  dimmed  eyes  per- 
ceived not  the  smiling  pleasure  with 
v/hich  Lady  Aurora  had  risen  at  her 
approach ;  her  breast  heaved  quick  5 
her  heart  swelled  almost  to  sufibcation  ; 
and,  wholly  disordered,  she  leaned  against 
a  window-frame  cut  in  the  immensely 
thick  walls  of  the  castle. 


(     415     ) 

Lady  Aurora  now  ran  fleetly  forward, 
exclaiming,  in  a  voice  of  which  the 
tender  melody  spoke  the  softness  of  her 
soul,  "  Miss  Ellis !  My  dear  Miss  Ellis ! 
have  I,  indeed,  the  happiness  to  meet 
"with  you  again  ?  O  !  if  you  could  know 
how  I  have  desired,  have  pined  for  it!  — 
But, —  are  you  ill? — You  cannot  be 
angry  ?  Miss  Ellis !  sweet  Miss  Ellis ! 
Can  you  ever  have  believed  that  it  has 
been  my  fault  that  I  have  appeared  so 
unkind,  so  hard,  so  cruel  ?'* 

'  With  a  fulness  of  joy  that,  in  conquer- 
ing doubt,  overpowered  timidity,  Juliet 
now,  with  rapturous  tears,  and  resistless 
tenderness,  flung  herself  upon  the  neck 
of  Lady  Aurora,  whom  she  encircled 
Vi^ith  her  arms,  and  strained  fondly  to 
her  bosom. 

But  the  same  vent  that  gave  relief  to 
internal  oppression  brought  lier  to  a 
sense  of  external  impropriety  :  she  felt 
that  it  was  rather  her  part  to  receive 
than  to  bestow  such  marks  of  aflection. 
She  drew  back  5   and  her  cheeks  were 

T    4 


{     4i6     ) 

suffused  with  the  most  vivid  scarlet, 
when  she  observed  the  deep  colour 
which  died  those  of  Lady  Aurora  at 
this  action  ;  though  evidently  with  the 
blushes  of  surprise,  not  of  pride. 

Ashamed,  and  hanging  her  head,  Ju- 
liet w^ould  have  attempted  some  apo- 
logy ;  but  Lady  Aurora,  warmly  return- 
ing her  embrace,  cried,  "  How  happy, 
and  liow  singular  a  chance  tl^at  we 
should  have  fixed  upon  this  day  for 
visiting  Arundel-castle  !  We  have  been 
making;  a  tour  to  the  Isle  of  Wii^ht  and 
to  Portsmouth ;  and  we  did  not  intend 
to  go  to  Briglithelmstone  ;  so  that  I 
had  no  hope,  none  upon  earth,  of  ssich  a 
felicity  as  that  of  seeing  my  dear  Miss 
Ellis.  I  need  not,  I  tliink,  say  it  was 
not  I  who  formed  our  plan,  when  I  own 
that  we  had  no  design  to  visit  Briglit- 
helmstone, though  I  knew,  from  Lady 
Barbara  Frankland,  that  Miss  Ellis  w-as 
there  ?" 

"  Alas !  I  fear,"  answered  Juliet,  "  the 
design   was   to   avoid  Brightiielmstone  I 


(    417     ) 

and  to  avoid  it  lest  a  blessing  such  as  I 
now  experience  should  fall  to  my  lot ! 
Ah,  Lady  Aurora  !  by  the  pleasure,  — 
the  transport,  rather,  with  which  your 
sudden  sight  has  made  me  appear  to 
forget  myself,  judge  my  anguish,  my 
desolation,  to  be  banished  from  your 
society,  and  banished  as  a  criminal  1'* 

Lady  Aurora  shuddered  and  hid  her 
face.  "  O  Miss  Ellis!"  she  cried,* 
*'  what  a  word  !  never  may  I  hear  it, — 
so  applied,  —  again,  lest  it  should  alienate 
me  from  those  I  ought  to  respect  and 
esteem  !  and  you  so  good,  so  excellent, 
would  be  sorry  to  see  me  estrange  my- 
self, even  though  it  were  for  your  own 
sake,  from  those  to  whom  I  owe  grati- 
tude and  attachment.  I  must  try  to 
shew  my  admiration  of  Miss  Ellis  in  a 
manner  that  Miss  Ellis  herself  will  not 
condemn.  And  will  not  tl/at  be  by 
speaking  to  her  witliout  any  disguise  ? 
And  will  she  not  have  the  goodness  to 
encourage  me  to  do  it  ?  For  the  world 
I  would  not  take  a  liberty  with  her  ;  — 
T  5 


(     4i8     ) 

for  the  universe  I  would  not  hurt  her  !  — 
but  if  it  were  possible  she  could  con- 
descend to  give, ....  however  slightly, 
however  imperfectly,  some  little  expla- 
nation to  . . . .  to . . .  Mrs.  Howel *' 

Juliet  here,  with  a  strong  expression 
of  horrour,  interrupted  her  :  "  Mrs. 
Howel  ?  —  O  no  1  I  cannot  speak  with 
Mrs.  Howel !  —  I  had  nearly  said  I  can 
see  Mrs.  Howel  no  more !  But  happier 
days  would  soon  subdue  resentment. 
And,  indeed,  what  I  feel  even  now, 
may  more  justly  be  called  terrour.  Ap- 
pearances have  so  cruelly  misrepresented 
me,  that  I  have  no  right  to  be  indignant, 
nor  even  surprised  that  they  should  give 
rise  to  false  judgments.  I  have  no  right 
to  expect, —  in  a  second  instance, — un- 
known,  friendless,  lonely  as  I  am  !  a 
trusting  angel !  a  Lady  Aurora  !" 

The  tears  of  I^ady  Aurora  now  flowed 
as  fast  as  her  own.  "  If  I  have  been  so 
fortunate,"  she  cried,  "  as  to  inspire 
such  sweet  kindness  in  so  noble  a  mind, 
even  in  the  midst  of  its  unhappiness,  I 


(     419     ) 

shall  always  prize  it  as  the  greatest  of 
honours,  and  try  to  use  it  so  as  to  make 
me  become  better;  that  you  may  never 
wound  me  by  retracting  it,  nor  be 
wounded  yourself  by  being  ashamed  of 
your  partiality." 

With  difficulty  Juliet  now  forbore  cast- 
ing herself  at  the  feet  of  Lady  Aurora, 
the  hem  of  whose  garment  she  would 
have  kissed  with  extacy,  had  not  her  own 
pecuniary  distresses,  and  the  rank  of  her 
young  friend,  made  her  recoil  from 
what  might  have  the  semblance  of  flat- 
tery. She  attempted  not  to  speak  ;  con- 
scious of  the  inadequacy  of  all  that  she 
could  utter  for  expressing  what  she  felt, 
she  left  to  the  silent  eloquence  of  her 
streaming,  yet  transport-glittering  eyes, 
tlie  happy  task  of  demonstrating  her 
gratitude  and  delight. 

With  calmer,  though  extreme  plea- 
sure. Lady  Aurora  perceived  the  impres- 
sion which  she  had  made.  "  See,"  she 
cried,  again  embracing  her;  "  see 
whether  1  trust  in  your  kindness,  whea 
T  6 


(       420       ) 

I  venture,  once  more,  to  renew  my 
earnest  request,  my  entreaty,  my  peti- 
tion—  *' 

*'  O  !  Lady  Aurora  1  Who  can  resist 
you?  Not  I!  I  ani  vanquished!  I  will 
tell  you  all !  I  will  unbosom  myself  to 
you  entirely !" 

"  No,  my  Miss  Ellis,  no !  not  to  me  !  I 
will  not  even  hear  you  !  Have  I  not  said 
so  ?  And  what  should  make  me  change  ? 
Ail  I  have  been  told  by  Lady  Barbara 
Frankland  of  your  exertions,  has  but 
increased  my  admiration  ;  all  she  has 
Written  of  your  sufierings,  your  disap- 
pointments, and  the  patient  courage  with 
which  you  have  borne  them.,  has  but  more 
endeared  you  to  my  heart.  No  expla- 
nation can  make  vou  fairer,  clearer,  more 
perfect  in  my  eyes.  I  take,  indeed,  the 
deepest  interest  in  your  welfare ;  but 
it  is  an  interest  that  makes  me  proud  to 
wait,  not  curious  to  hear ;  proud,  my 
Miss  Ellis,  to  shew  my  confidence,  my 
trust  in  your  excellencies !  If,  therefore, 
you  will  have  the  goodisess  to  speak,  it 


(       421       ) 

must  be  to  others,  not  to  me  !  I  should 
buish  to  be  of  the  number  of  those  who 
want  documents,  certificates,  to  love  and 
honour  you  !*' 

Again  Juliet  was  speechless  ;  again  ail 
words  seemed  poor,  lieartless,  unworthy 
to  describe  the  sensibility  of  her  soul,  at: 
this  touching  proof  of  a  tenderness  so 
consonant  to  her  wishes,  yet  so  far  sur- 
passing her  dearest  expectations.  She 
hung  over  her  ingenuous  young  friend  ; 
she  sighed,  she  even  sobbed  with  unut- 
terable delight;  while  tears  of  rapture 
rolled  down  her  glowing  cheeks,  and 
while  her  eyes  were  lustrous  with  a  ra- 
diance of  felicity  that  no  tears  could  dim. 

Charmed,  and  encouraged.  Lady  Au- 
rora continued  :  "  To  those,  then,  who 
have  not  had  the  happiness  to  see  you  so 
justly;  who  dwell  only  upon  the  singu- 
larity of  your  being  so  ... .  alone,  and 
so.  .  .  .  young,  —  O  how  often  have  I 
told  them  that  I  was  sure  you  as  little 
knew  as  merited  their  evil  construc- 
tions !     How    often  have   I   wished  to 


(      422       ) 

write  to  you !  how  certain  have  I  felt  that 
all  your  motives  to  concealment,  even 
the  most  respectable,  would  yield  to  so 
urgent  a  necessity,  as  that  of  clearing 
away  every  injurious  surmise  !     Speak, 
therefore,  my  Miss  Ellis,  though  not  to 
me  !     Even  from  them,  when  you  have 
trusted  them,  I  will  hear  nothing  till  the 
time  of  your  secresy  is   over;    that  I 
may  give  them  an  example  of  the  dis- 
cretion they  must  observe  with  others* 
Yet  speak !  have  the  goodness  to  speak, 
that  every  body,  —  my  uncle  Denmeath 
himself,  —  and  even  Mrs.  Howel, —  may 
acknov/Iedge  and  respect  your  excellen* 
eies   and  your  virtues   as  I  do !     And 
then,  my  Miss  EUis,  who  shall  prevent, — 
who  will    even    desire    to   prevent  my 
shev/ing  to  the  whole  world  my  sense  of 
your    worth,    and   my    pride    in    your 
friendship  ?" 

The  struggles  that  now  heaved  the 
breast  of  Juliet  were  nearly  too  potent 
for  her  strength.  She  gasped  for 
breath  J    she    held    her    hand    to    her 


(     423      ) 

heart ;  and  when,  at  length,  the  kind 
caresses  and  gentle  pleadings  of  Lady 
Aurora,  brought  back  her  speech,  she 
painfully  pronounced,  "  Shall  I  repay 
goodness  so  exquisite,  by  filling  with 
regret  the  sweet  mind  that  intends  me 
only  honour  and  consolation  ?  Must 
the  charm  of  such  unexpected  kind- 
ness, even  while  it  penetrates  my  heart 
with  almost  piercing  delight,  entail, 
from  its  resistless  persuasion,  a  misery 
upon  the  rest  of  my  days,  that  may 
render  them  a  burthen  from  which  I 
may  hourly  sigh,  —  nay  pray,  to  be 
delivered  t" 

Seized  with  horrour  and  astonishment. 
Lady  Aurora  exclaimed,  "  Oh  heaven, 
no !  I  must  be  a  monster  if  I  would 
not  rather  die,  immediately  die,  than 
cause  you  any  evil !  Miss  Ellis,  my 
dear  Miss  Ellis !  forget  I  have  made 
such  a  request,  and  forgive  my  indis- 
cretion !  With  all  your  misfortunes. 
Miss  Ellis,  all  your  so  undeserved  griefs, 
you  are  yet  quite  a  stranger  to  sorrow. 


(     424     ) 

compared  to  that  which  I  should  expe- 
rience, if,  through  me,  through  my 
means,  you  should  be  exposed  to  any 
fresh  injury  V 

"  Angelic  goodness!"  cried  Juliet, 
deeply  affected  :  "  I  blush,  I  blush  to 
hear  you  without  casting  myself  entirely 
into  your  power,  without  making  you 
immediate  arbitress  of  my  fate  !  Yet,  — 
since  you  demand  not  my  confidence  for 
your  own,  satisfaction,  —  can  I  know 
that  to  spread  it  beyond  yourself,  —  your 
generous  self! — might  involve  me  in 
instantaneous  earthly  destruction,  and, 
voluntarily,  suffer  your  very  benevo- 
lence to  become  its  instrument  ?  With 
regard  to  Lord  Denmeath,  —  to  your 
uncle,  —  I  must  say  nothing  ;  but  with 
regard  to  Mrs.  Flow^el, — let  me  conjure 
your  ladyship  to  consent  to  my  utterly 
avoiding  her,  that  I  Uiay  escape  the 
dreadful  accusations  holI  reproaches  that 
my  cruel  situation  forbids  me  to  repeL 
I  have  no  words  to  paint  the  terrible 
impression  she  has  left  upon  my  mind. 


(    425     ) 

All  that  I  have  borne  from  others  is  short 
of  wliat  I  have  suffered  from  that  lady  ! 
The  debasing  suspicions  of  Mrs.  Maple, 
the  taunting  tyranny  of  Mrs.  Ireton, 
though  they  make  me  blush  to  owe, —  or 
rather,  to  earn  from  them  the  subsistence 
Vvithout  which  I  know  not  how  to  exist ; 
have  yet  never  smote  so  rudely  and  so 
acutely  to  my  inmost  heart,  as  the 
attack  I  endured  from  Mrs.  Howel  1 
They  rob  me,  indeed,  of  comfort,  of 
rest,  and  of  liberty  —  but  they  do  not 
sever  me  from  Lady  Aurora  1" 

"  Alas,  my  Miss  Ellis  !  and  have  T, 
too,  joined  in  the  general  persecution 
against  such  afiHicted  innocence  ?  I  feel 
myself  the  most  unpardonable  of  all 
not  to  liave  acquiesced,  without  one  un- 
generous question,  or  even  conjecture  ; 
in  full  reliance  upon  the  right  and  the 
necessity  of  your  silence.  I  ouglit  to 
have  forseen  that  if  it  were  not  improper 
you  should  comply,  your  own  noble 
way  of  thinking  would  have  made  all 
entreaty  as  useless  as  it  has  been  imper- 


(     426     ) 

tinent.  Yet  when  prejudice  alone  parts 
us,  how  could  I  help  trying  to  overcome 
it  ?  And  even  my  brother,  though  he 
would  forfeit,  I  believe,  his  life  in  your 
defence  ;  and  though  he  says  he  is  sure 
you  are  all  purity  and  virtue;  and  though 
he  thinks  that  there  is  nothing  upon 
earth  that  can  be  compared  with  you  ; — 
even  he  has  been  brought  to  agree  to  the 
cruel  resolution,  that  I  should  defer 
knitting  myself  closer  to  my  Miss  Ellis, 
till  she  is  able  to  have  the  goodness  to 
let  us  know — " 

She  stopt,  alarmed,  for  the  cheeks  of 
Juliet  were  suddenly  dyed  with  the 
deepest  crimson  ;  though  the  transient 
tint  faded  away  as  she  pronounced, 
*'  Lord  Melbury  !  —  even  Lord  Mel- 
bury  !  — "  and  they  became  pale  as 
death,  while,  in  a  faint  voice,  and  with 
stifled  emotion,  she  added,  "  He  is 
right !  He  acts  as  a  brother  ;  and  as  a 
brother  to  a  sister  whom  he  can  never 
sufficiently  appreciate. —  And  yet,  the 
more   I  esteem  his  circumspection,  the 

3 


(     427     ) 

more  deeply  I  must  be  wounded  that 
calumny,  —  that  mystery,  —  that  dire 
circumstance,  should  make  me  seem 
dangerous,  where,  otherwise — '^ 

Unable  longer  to  constrain  her  feel- 
ings, she  sunk  upon  a  seat  and  wept. 

«  O  Miss  Ellis  ?  What  have  I  done  ?" 
cried  Lady  Aurora.  "  How  have  I 
been  so  barbarous,  so  inconsiderate,  so 
unwise  ?  If  my  poor  brother  had  caused 
you  this  pain,  how  should  I  have 
blamed  him  ?  And  how  grievously  would 
he  have  repented  !  How  severely,  then^ 
ought  I  to  be  reproached !  I  who  have 
done  it  myself,  without  his  generous 
precipitancy  of  temper  to  palliate  such 
want  of  reflection  !  — " 

The  sudden  entrance  of  Selina  here 
interrupted  the  conversation.  She  came 
tripping  forward,  to  acquaint  Lady- 
Aurora  that  the  party  had  just  dis- 
cerned a  magnificent  vessel ;  and  that 
every  body  said  if  her  ladyship  did  not 
come  directly,  it  would  be  sailed  away. 

At  sight  of  JuHet,  she  ran  to  embrace 


(     428     ) 

her,  with  the  Vv^armest  expressions  of 
friendship;  unciiecked  by  a  coldness 
%vhich  she  did  not  observe,  though  now, 
from  the  dissatisfaction  excited  by  so 
unseasonable  an  intrusion,  it  was  far 
more  marked,  than  while  it  had  been 
under  the  quahfying  influence  of  con- 
tempt. 

But  when  she  found  that  neither  ca- 
resses, nor  kind  words,  couki  make  her 
share  with  Lady  Aurora,  even  for  a  mo- 
ment, the  attention  of  Juliet,  she  be- 
came a  little  confused  ;  and,  drawing 
herapart,  asked  what  was  the  matter  I 
consciously,  without  waiting  for  any 
answer,  runnino:  into  a  string  of  simple 
apologies,  for  not  speaking  to  her  in 
public  ;  which  she  should  always,  she 
said,  do  with  the  greatest  pleasure  ;  for 
she  thought  her  the  most  agreeable  per- 
son in  the  whole  world  ;  if  it  were  not, 
that,  nobody  knowing  her,  it  would  look 
so  odd. 

All  answer,  save  a  smile  half  disdain- 
ful,  half  pitying,  was  precluded  by  the 


(     429     ) 

appearance  of  the  Arramedes,  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton,  and  Mi«iS  Brinville;  who  announced 
to  Lady  Aurora  that  the  ship  was  ah'eady 
out  of  sight. 

Upon  perceiving  Juliet,  they  were 
nearly  as  much  embarrassed  as  herself; 
for  though  she  instantly  retreated,  it 
was  evident  that  she.  had  been  sitting  by 
the  side  of  Lady  Aurora,  in  close  and 
amicable  conference. 

An  awkward  general  silence  ensued, 
when  Juliet,  hearing  other  steps,  was 
moving  ofi";  but  Lady  Aurora,  follow- 
ing, and  holding  out  her  hand,  affection- 
ately said,  "  Are  you  going,  Miss 
Ellis?  Must  you  go?  And  will  you  not 
bid  me  adieu  V 

Touched  to  the  soul  at  this  public 
mark  of  kindness,  Juliet  was  gratefully 
returning,  when  the  voice  of  Lord  Mel- 
bury  spoke  his  near  approach.  Trem- 
bling and  changing  colour,  her  folded 
hands  demanded  excuse  of  Lady  Aurora 
for  a  precipitate-  yet  reluctant  flight ; 
but  she  had  stili  found  neither  time  nor 


(    43^    ) 

means  to  escape,  when  Lord  Melbiiiy, 
who  was  playing  with  young  Loddard, 
entered  the  gallery,  saying,  "  Aurora, 
your  genealogical  studies  have  lost  you 
a  most  beautiful  sea-view." 

The  boy,  spying  Juliet,  whom  he  was 
more  than  ever  eager  to  join  when  he 
saw  that  she  strove  to  avoid  notice; 
darted  from  his  lordship,  calling  out, 
ElHs !  Ellis  !  look !  look  !  here's  Ellis !" 

Lord  Melbury,  with  an  air  of  the 
most  animated  surprize  and  delight, 
darted  forward  also,  exclaiming,  "  Miss 
Ellis !  How  unexpected  a  pleasure  ! 
The  moment  I  saw  Mrs.  I  re  ton  I  had 
some  hope  I  might  see,  also.  Miss  Ellis 
•—but  I  had  already  given  it  up  as 
delusory." 

Ag^in  the  fallen  countenance  of  Juliet 
briglitened  into  sparkling  beauty.  The 
idea  that  even  Lord  Melbury  had  been 
infected  by  the  opinions  which  had  been 
circulated  to  her  disadvantage,  had 
wounded,  had  stung  her  to  the  quick : 
but  to  find  that,  notwithstanding  he  had 


(    431     ) 

been  prevailed  upon  to  acquiesce  that 
liis  sister,  while   so  much    mystery  re- 
mained,   should   keep   personally  aloof, 
his  own  sentiments  of  esteem  remained 
vmshaken  ;  and  to   find  it  by  so  open, 
and  so  prompt  a  testimony  of  respect 
and  regard,  displayed  before    the  very 
witnesses  who  had  sought  to    destroy, 
or     invalidate,     every    impression    that 
might   be  made  in  her  favour,    was    a 
relief  the  most  exquisitely  welcome  to 
her  disturbed  and  fearful  mind. 

Eager  and  rapid  enquiries  concerning 
her  health,  uttered  with  the  ardour  of 
juvenile  vivacity,  succeeded  this  first 
address.  The  party  standing  by,  looked 
astonished,  even  abashed ;  while  the 
face  of  Lady  Aurora  recovered  its 
wonted  expression  of  sweet  serenity. 

Mrs.  Ireton,  now,  was  seized  with  a 
desire  the  most  violent,  to  repossess  a 
protegee  whose  history  and  situation 
seemed  daily  to  grow  more  wonderful. 
With  a  courtesy,  therefore,  as  foreign 
from  her  usual  manners,  as  from  her  real 


(     43^     ) 

feelings,  she  said,  "  Miss  Ellis,  I  am 
sure,  will  have  the  goodness  to  help  me 
home  with  my  two  little  companions? 
I  am  sure  of  that.  She  could  not  be  so 
unkind  as  to  leave  the  poor  little  things 
in  the  lurch  ?'* 

Indignant  as  Juliet  had  felt  at  the 
treatment  which  she  had  received,  re- 
sentment at  this  moment  found  no  place 
in  her  mind  ;  slie  was  beginning,  there- 
fore, a  civil,  however  decided  excuse  ; 
when  Mrs.  Ireton,  suspicions  of  her  pur- 
pose, flung  herself  languishingly  upon  a 
seat,  and  complained  that  she  was  seized 
with  such  an  immoderate  pain  in  her 
side,  that,  if  somebody  would  not  take 
care  of  the  two  little  souls,  she  should 
ai-rive  at  Brighthelmstone  a  corpse. 

The  Arramedes,  Miss  Brinville,  and 
Selina,  all  declared  that  it  was  impossible 
to  refuse  so  essential  a  service  to^a  health 
so  delicate. 

The  fear,  now,  of  a  second  public 
scene,  with  the  dread  lest  Lord  Melbury 
might  be  excited  to  speak  or  act  in  her 

5 


(    433     ) 

favour,  forced  the  judgment  of  Juliet  to 
couquer  her  inclination,  in  leading  her 
to  defer  the  so  often  given  dismission 
till  her  return  to  Brighthelmstone ;  she 
acceded,  therefore,  though  with  cruel  un- 
willingness, to  what  was  required. 

Mrs.  Ireton  instantly  recovered  ;  and. 
with  the  more  alacrity,  from  observing 
that  Lady  Barbara  Frankland  joined  the 
group,  at  this  moment  of  victory. 
^'  Take  the  trouble,  then,  if  you  please. 
Ma'am,"  she  replied,  in  her  usual  tone 
of  irony  ;  "  if  it  will  not  be  too  great  a 
condescension,  take  the  trouble  to  carry 
Bijou  to  the  coach.  And  bid  Simon  keep 
him  safe  while  you  come  back,  —  if  it 
is  not  asking  quite  too  great  a  favour,  — 
for  Mr.  Loddard.  And  pray  bring  my 
wrapping  cloak  with  you.  Ma'am.  You'll 
be  so  good,  I  hope,  as  to  excuse  all  these 
liberties?  I  hope  so,  at  least  1  I  flatter 
myself  you'll  excuse  them.  And,  ii 
the  cloak  should  be  heavy,  I  daresay 
Simon  will  give  you  his  arm.     Simon  i« 

VOL.  III.  If 


(     434     ) 

a  man  of  gallantry,  I  make  no  doubt*, 
Not  that  I  pretend  to  know  ;  but  I  take 
it  for  granted  he  is  a  man  of  gallantry o*' 

JuHet  looked  down,  repentant  to  have 
placed  herself,  even  for  another  moment, 
in  a  power  so  merciless.  Lord  Melbury 
and  Lady  Aurora,  each  hurt  and  indig- 
nant, advanced,  uttering  kind  speeches  : 
while  Lady  Barbara,  still  younger  and 
more  unguarded,  seizing  the  little  dog, 
exclaimed  "No,  I'll  carry  Bijou  myself, 
Mrs.  Ireton.  Poor  Miss  ElHs  looks  so 
tired  1  I'll  take  care  of  him  all  the  way  to 
Brighthelmstone  myself.  Dear,  pretty 
little  creature!"  Then,  skipping  behind 
Lady  Aurora,  "  Nasty  whelp !"  she 
whispered,  "  how  I'll  pinch  him  for 
being  such  a  plague  to  that  sweet  Miss 
Ellis  1    Perhaps  that  will  mend  him  !" 

The  satisfaction  of  Lady  Aurora  at 
this  trait  glistened  in  her  soft  eyes ; 
while  Lord  Melbury,  enchanted,  caught 
the  hand  of  the  spirited  little  lady,  and 
pressed  it  to  his  lips  ;  though,  ashamed 


(     435     ) 

of  his  own  vivacity,  he  let  it  go  before 
she  had  time  to  withdraw  it.  She  co- 
loured deeply,  but  visibly  with  no  un- 
pleasant  sensation ;  and,  grasping  the 
little  dog,  hid  her  blushes,  by  uttering 
a  precipitate  farewell  upon  the  bosom  of 
Lady  Aurora ;  who  smilingly,  though 
tenderly,  kissed  her  forehead. 

An  idea  that  teemed  with  joy  and 
happiness  rose  high  in  the  breast  of 
Juliet,  a&  she  looked  from  Lord  Melbury 
to  Lady  Barbara.  Ah!  there,  indeed,  she 
thought,  felicity  might  find  a  residence ! 
there,  in  the  rare  union  of  equal  worth, 
equal  attractions,  sympathising  feelings, 
and  similar  condition  ! 

"  And  I,  too,"  cried  Lord  Melbury, 
*'  must  have  the  honour  to  make  myself 
of  some  use  ;  if  Mrs.  Ireton,  therefore, 
will  trust  Mr.  Loddard  to  my  care,  I  will 
convey  him  safely  to  Brighthelmstone, 
and  overtake  my  sister  in  the  evening. 
And  by  this  means  we  shall  lighten  the 
fatigue  of  Mrs.  Ireton,  without  increas- 
ing that  of  Miss  EHis." 

U    2 


(     436     ) 

He  then  took  the  little  boy  in  his  arms  ; 
playfully  dancing  him  before  the  little 
dog  in  those  of  Lady  Barbara. 

The  heart  of  Juliet  panted  to  give 
utterance  to  the  warm  acknowledgments 
with  which  it  was  fondly  beating ;  but 
mingled  fear  and  discretion  forced  her 
to  silence. 

All  the  evil  tendencies  of  malice, 
envy,  and  ill  will,  pent  up  in  the  breast 
of  Mrs.  Ireton,  now  struggled  irresistibly 
for  vent ;  yet  to  insist  that  Juliet  should 
take  charge  of  Mr.  Loddard,  for  whom 
Lord  Melbury  had  offered  his  services  ; 
or  even  to  force  upon  her  the  care  of  the 
little  dog,  since  Lady  Barbara  had  pro- 
posed carrying  him  herself,  appeared  no 
longer  to  exhibit  dependency :  Mrs. 
Ireton,  therefore,  found  it  expedient  to 
be  again  taken  ill  j  and,  after  a  little 
fretful  moaning,  "  I  feel  quite  shaken,'* 
she  cried,  "  quite  in  a  tremour.  My  feet 
are  absolutely  numbed.  Do  get  me  my 
furred     clogs,     Miss    Ellis  ^    if  1   may 

15 


(     437     ) 

venture  to  ask  such  a  favour.  I  would 
not  be  troublesome,  but  you  will  pro- 
bably find  them  in  the  carriage.  Though 
perhaps  I  have  left  them  in  the  hall.  You 
will  have  the  condescension  to  help 
the  coachman  and  Simon  to  make  a 
search.  And  then  pray  run  back,  if  i 
won't  fatigue  you  too  much,  and  tie 
them  on  for  me.'* 

If  Juliet  now  coloured,  at  least  it 
was  not  singly  5  the  cheeks  of  Lady 
Aurora,  of  Lady  Barbara,  and  of  Lord 
Melbury  were  equally  crimsoned. 

*'  Let  me,  Mrs.  Ireton,"  eagerly  cried 
Lord  Melbury  "  have  the  honour  to  be 
Miss  Ellis's  deputy." 

"  No,  my  lord,"  said  Juliet,  with 
spirit :  "  grateful  and  proud  as  I  should 
feel  to  be  honoured  with  your  lordship's 
assistance,  it  must  not  be  in  a  business 
that  does  not  belong  to  me.  I  will  deliver 
the  orders  to  Simon.  And  as  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton  is  now  relieved  from  her  anxiety 
concerning  Mr.  Loddard,  I  beg  permis- 


(    438     ) 

sion,  once  more,  and  finally,  to  take  my 
leave/' 

Gravely  then  courtsying  to  Mrs.  Ire- 
ton,  and  bowing  her  head  with  an  ex- 
pression of  the  most  touching  sensibility 
to  her  three  young  supporters,  she 
quitted  the  gallery. 


END    OF   THE   THIRD   VOLUME. 


Strihan  and  Preston, 
Printers-Street,  Londou. 


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