^a^ \^% .^>X^.. SMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) y y_ 1.0 I.I 11.25 |50 ™^ 1^ !■■ M 2.2 I "^ !||||M u U 11.6 V] ^> '^C^ -^> iiUlUgidpluC Sciences Corporation 8?^ PqV ^^ \ >> 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 % -0- ^^o~ f #^. kent a raisin frae a black clok before he liad a tooth ; putting the taen in his mouth wi^ a smirk, but skrieghing like desperation at the sight o' the ither." During the summer of the first year after An- drew had been brought home to her, she was ge- nerally seen sitting with her wheel, basking in the sun, at the gable of her cottage, with her grand- son at her side in her biggest stool, turned upside down, amusing himself with the cat. Andrew was a small and delicate child, but he grew apace, and every day, in the opinion of his grandmother, improved in his looks. " His een,'' as she said to her kimmers while she dandled him at the door as they stopped to speak to her in passing, " are like gowans in a May morning, and his laugh^s as blithe as the lilt o' the linty." Philosophers in these expressions may discover the fond anticipations of hopeful affection, look- ing forward to a prosperous fortune for the child ; but Andrew, for a long time, shewed no indica- tions of possessing any thing in common with the talents that are usually supposed requisite to en- sure distinction or riches. In his boyhood, how. CHAPTER I ever, Martha frequently observed " that he was a pawkie laddie, and if he wasna a deacon at book lair, he kent as weel as the maister himsel how mony blue beans it taks to mak five." The " maister'' here spoken of was Dominic Tannyhill, one of those meek and modest novices of the Scottish priesthood, who, never happening to meet with any such stroke of good fortune as the lot of a tutor in a laird's family, wear out the even tenor of their blameless days in the little troubles of a village-school. At the time when Andrew was placed under his care, the master seemed to be about forty, but he was probably two or three years younger. He was pale and thin, and under the middle size, and «tooped a little, as if hij; head had been set on somewhat awry. It proceeded, however, from a habit which he had acquired in consequence of being short-sighted, and accustomed to write and read with his ear almost touching the paper. At times he would erect himself even into something like an air of dignity, and change his lowly and diffident tone into the voice and accent of an ear- nest and impassioned eloquence. TUE COTTAGK. Q Every thing in his appearance indicated a mo- derate spirit, in perfect accordance with the mild- ness of his manners, and his few and hum We ac- quirements ; but there was an apostolic energy in his thoughts, when his own feelings were roused, or when he addressed himself to move those of others, with which Nature at times shewed how willing she was, if fortune had so pleased, to make him a pathetic and impressive preacher. Whe^ ther he ever felt the longings of ambition, or ra. ther whether he ever repined at the unheeded and unknown estate in which he was left to pass away, like a sequestered spring, whose pure and gentle course is only seen in the meadows by a little narrow edging of richer verdure, could never be discovered in the still sobriety of his placid temper ; but if all other passions were hushed in his quiet bosom, the kindly disposition which he shewed towards every living thing begat in tho minds of his pupils an affectionate respect, of far greater power in the little state and commonwealth of his school, than would have been yielded to the authority of more arrogant abilities, backed by the caws, that dreadeu satrap of Scottish didactic discipline. 6 "ll CHAPTER r. In his dress, the mo >er was as remarkable as in his mind and main.crs. His linen was always uncommonly neat, and his cc&t and vest of raven grey, thougli long thread-bare, never shewed a broken thread, nor tlie smallest stationary speck of dust. His breeches, of olive thickset, were no less caiefully preserved from stains; and his dark blue worsted gamashins, reaching above tlie knees in winter, not only added to the comfort of hia legs, but protected his stockings. Between hia cottage and the church, or in the stiU evenings when he was seen walkmg solitary along tlie un. trodden parts of the neighbouring moor, he wore a small cocked-hat, and as his eyes were weak and tender, in bright 'leather he commonly slack-, ened the loops, and, turning the point round, con- verted the upright gable of the back into a shade. If the master, like other potentates, had a fa- vourite, it was certainly our hero, at whose droll and whimsical remarks he was sometimes observed almost to smile. For Andrew was not long at school, till he shewed that he was, at least with respect to his sayings, destined to attract notice. Indeed the very first day, when his grandmother THE COTTAGE. herself led him to the door with his A B board in his hand, he got a name that he never lost. After the dismissal of the school, as he was play, ing with the other boys on the high road, a car- riage and four horses, with outriders, happened to pass, whirling along with the speed and pride of nobility. The schoolboys, exhilarated by the splen. d<'nr of a phenomenon, rare in those tiays in Sto. neyholm, shouted with gladness as it passed, and our hero animated the shout into laughter by call- ing out, " Weel dune, wee wheelie, the mudkle ane canna catch you.^' From that time he was called « Wheelie ;" but instead of being offended by it, as boys commonly are by their nicknames, he bore it with the greatest good-humour ; and afterwards, when he had learnt to write, marked his books and copies with " Andrew Wheehe, his book.- Even ilie master in time used to caU him Wheelie, and insensibly fostered his taste for the odd and droll, by sometimes inviting him on a Saturday afternoon to partake of his pale and eco- nomical tea. Andrew, who was naturally shrewd and obser- vant, perceiving that the master was diverted by 8 CHAPTER I. liis humour, exerted himself on -these occasions, hy which exercise he gradually acquired a de^ee of readiness and selflpossession in conversadon, unusual among Scottish boys, and a happy ver- nacular phraseology, which he retained through hfe, and which, with those who had a true relish of character, was enjoyed as something as rare and original as the more elegant endowment of genius. I i .;! THE MAGPIE. 9 CHAPTER II. THE .^I AC PIE. Andrew was viot distinguished among- his school-fellows by any particular predilection for those amusements in which the boys of a country school are so adventurous ; yet he was always a desired member of their nesting parties in the spring, and nutting excursions in the autumn ; for his drollery and good humour knit their hearts to him ; and if he seldom strung an egg of his own berrying, and absolutely, at all times, refused to risk his neck on the boughs of the hazel, he still- brouglit home his full share of the holiday plun. der. On an occasion when a pyet^s nest was scaled. A 2 I 10 CHAPTER IT. lifl '■I! ; .'fti only a single young one was found ; and it was so strong and cunning, that it almost escaped from the grasp of Willy Cunningham, the boy who was sent up the tree. Some debate ensued on the division of the day's spoil, as to who should get the mag- pie. Andrew thought it ought to be given to Willy • but Cunningham, a frank and generous fel- low, insisted that it should be Wheelie's, assigning as a reason, that Maggy, as Andrew had called it on the spot, " was an auld farent thing like himsel, and would learn mair wi"* him than wi' ony other laddie at the school.'' Cunningham's proposal was ratified with a unanimous shout ; and certainly no bird was ever more appropriately disposed of, for Andrew not only taught it to fetch and carry, and to filch with surprising address, but to speak seve- ral words with the most diverting distinctness. — ^^aggy h^self seemed to be right well pleased with her master; and, according to tradition, knew every word he said, with the discernment of a spirit. When his companions, in the winter evenings, assembled round his grandmother's hearth, Maggy on those occasions placed herself between his legs ; THE MAGPIE. 11 and as often as he said any thing that tickled their young fancies, turned up her cunning eye, and then jocundly chattered with her bill, as if she par- ticipated in their laughter. The natural knavery of the magpie being cul- tivated by education, she sometimes took it into her head to pilfer a little on her own account, and among others who suffered by her depredations, was the master. Between the school hours he al- ways opened the windows to ventilate the room ; and Maggy, as often as she could, availed herself of the opportunity to steal the boys' pens. It hap- pened, however, that she went once too often, and was caught in the fact, with a new pen in her neb. The master's own kindly humour induced him to pardon the bird ; but as quarrels had arisen among the boys, occasioned by the loss of their pens, one accusing the other of the theft, he deem- ed it incumbent on him to rebuke the owner of the depredator. Accordingly, when the school assem- bled in the afternoon, he proclaimed silence ; and taking up Maggy from under a basket where he had imprisoned her, he addressed the boys to the following effect : '11' 12 ClIAI'TER ir. " Wha' amang you is guilty of keeping this mis- leart and unprincipled pyet, which is in the prac- tice, whenever I leave the windows open to air the school, of coming in and stealing the pens from off the desks— carrying them awa^ in its neb, without ony regard for tiie consequence ?" " It's mine,'' cried Andrew. " Yours !" said the master ; " then, Wheelie^ come ye here, for I maun point out to you the groat error of such conduct. It is, as ye maun surely hae often heard, an auld and a true saying, that < They wha begin wi' stealing needles and pnns, may end wi' horned knout.' I'm no saying, so ye needna nigher, that ever this pyet will steal either horse or black cattle ; but I would exhort you, nevertheless, to put it away, for it is a wick^ ed bird, and may, by its pranks, entice you to do evil yoursel. I linna, however, recommend that ye should put the poor creature to death—that would be a cruelty ; and, besides, ye ken it's but a feathered fowl, and no endowed wi' ony natural understanding of good and evil. It kens nae bet^ ter, like the other beasts that perish, than to mak It's living in a dishonest manner. Therefore, I THE MAGPIE. 15 counsel you just to take it to the woods, and set it at liberty, where it may fall out in some other's hand." n To this Andrew replied, with one of his pawkie glances, " It's but the first fault o' poor Maggy, master, and ye shouldna be overly severe, for she doesna ken, as ye say, that theeving's a sin ; so I hope ye'll aUow me to gie her an opportunity to tak up the steik in her stocking, and FU admonish her weel when I get her hame— O ye sinfu' bird, are ye no ashamed of yoursel, to bring such dis- grace on me .?" Maggy instantly testified her contrition and her thankfulness for the advocacy of her master, by hopping from the relaxed grasp of the good natu- red dominie, and nestling in his bosom. " It's really a droll beast, I maun alloo that," and I'U forgie you for this ae time," said the mas- ter ; " but I would advise you to tie a string to its leg, and keep it in the house, for there's no telling what it may commit." Andrew having thus obtained pardon for the magpie, she became a greater favourite than ever with the boys, and produced precisely tl- effects 14 CHAPTER II. which the master had feared. Nothing portable at open window was safe from her thievish bill, especially the thread papers of Miss Mizy Cun. ningham,th? maiden aunt of theboy by whose good nature our hero became master of the bird. Miss Mizy lived in the mansion-house of Craig- lands, close to the village, and had under her dominion Willy and his sister Mary ; for their mother was dead, and the laird, then: father, trou- bled himself very little with any earthly thing. He was, ^s Andrew described him, *' a carle that daunered about the doors wi' his hands in his pouches, and took them out at meal-time.'' As for Miss Mizy herself, she was a perfect paragon of gentility and precision. However slovenly the grounds about the house were kept, the interior of the mansion was always in the trimmest order; and nothing could exceed the nun-like purity of the worthy lady's own cambric-clad person. It happened, by the death of a relation, that it was necessary the family should be put into mourn- ing ; and Miss Mizy, for this purpose, had bought herself a suit of sable, as well as a due portion of crape, and the other requisites of funereal sorrow. THE MAGPIE. portable ish bill, zy Cun. )8egood L f Craig- ier her )r their T, trou- ' thing, rle that in his ."—As aragon ily the moT of order ; rity of that it aoum- •oiight ion of orrow. 15 She was sitting, busy with her needle, making up the dress, at the parlour window, which was open, when Andrew, one afternoon, with his pyet, came to ask Willy to go out with him. .vlaggy had 8o often teazed Miss Mizy by pilfering her thread pa- pers, that justice and vengeance were sworn against her. This the boys were well aware of, but could not resist the temptation of « setting up the birses of aunty.'^—Maggy, accordingly was set loose. In a moment she was in at the window, and had sei- zed a thread case. Miss Mizy, however, before the pyet could escape, darted at her like a cat on a mouse ; and almost in the same instant, poor Maggy, with its neck twisted, was flung out with such fury at Andrew, that it ahaost knocked him down. This was a dreadful outrage on the part of Miss Mizy ; and the wliole school participated in the revenge which was vowed against the murderer of Maggy ; nor was ever revenge more complete.— Next day, the principal companions of Andrew provided themselves with a large tub, which they iilled with water from the Laird's stable-yard ; and Andrew, going up to the window where Miss Mizy 16 CHAPTER II. was again sitting at her seam, while the other con- spirators were secretly bringing the tub under the window, cried, " Ye auld rudons, what gart you kill my pyet ? — odd I'll mak you rue that. Nae wonder ye ne'er got a man, ye cankery runt, wi' your red neb ard your tinkler tongue."" This was enough. Miss Mizy rose like a tem- pest ; the same moment souce came the unsavoury deluge from the tub, full in her face, to the total wreck and destruction of all the unfinished bravery of mournings which lay scattered around. . TIIK TASK. iir CHAPTER III. THE TASK. " The awfuUike thing," as Miss Mizy over afterwards spoke of the schoolboys' conspiracy, was attended with the most important consequences. The first result was a formal complaint to Mr Tannyhiil, to whom the indignant plaintiff stated her wrongs with an eloquence to which we cannot do justice, demanding the immediate punishment of the offenders. The master's affectionate bosom was deeply af- flicted with the account that Miss Mizy gave of " the devihy," which, in her narrative, cer- tainly suffered no diminution either in the sins of the perpetration, or the cunning with which it had been planned. In his way back to the school, he meditated on the sort of punishment which he cmght to inflict, for hitherto the rod had been un- known in his discipline ; and he came to the strange conclusion, that, as the end of aU punish- 18 CHAPTER III. I • ment ought to be the reformation of the delin- quent, he would oblige the culprits in this case to apply with more than ordinary assiduity to their tasks, and require them, for the remainder of the summer, to attend the school two additional hours a-day. Some governors might have thought this a punishment to themselves, but it never occurred to his honest and ingenuous bosom, that it was any hardship ; on the contrary, he felt it a duty which he was called to perform, in order to cor. rect the effects of the evil spirit which had been so audaciously manifested. Accordingly, when the boys assembled next day, he called the con- spirators before him, and made them mount a form in presence of their companions. " I told you," said he, casting his eyes towards our hero, " that the ill deedy pyet would bring you into baith scaith and scorn ; and now ye see my prophecy has come to pass, for there ye stand, five a' in a row, like so many evil-doers as ye surely are, that I ought to make an example of, by letting you fin the weight o' my hand. But it's no my way to chastise with stripes on the body ; no, unless the heart is made to feel, a bite o' the taws in the loof, or on the back, will soon heal. THE TASK. 19 In truth, my bairns, Fm wae for you, for gin ye gang on at this rate what's to become of you, when ye enter the world to mak your bread ? wha, Wheelie, wiU hae ony regard for you, if ye gie V'>i'rsel up to mischief ?-^Others here hae friens that may guide them, but ye hae only your auld feckless grannie, that wi' mickle hard labour ha» ettled, with a blessed constancy, to breed you up in the fear o' God. O man, it will be a sore return for a' her love and kindness, if ye break her heart at last— .1 speak to you mair than to the rest, be- cause in this matter ye are the most to blame, and stand in the greatest peril." " Weel, weel,'' cried our hero, half sobbing, half angrily, « ye need nae fash me ony mair about it, but tell me at ance what ye're ga'n to do wi' me." The master was so astonished at this interrup- tion, that he stepped back, and sat down in his chair for some time silent. The culprits became all pale, and the rest of the boys stood aghast ; so daring a defiance, as it seemed to them, of all authority, could not, it was supposed, but be foU lowed by some tremendous display of power. 20 CHAPTKR III. Mr Tannyhill, however, read Wylie's character in the expression, and by some happy or benevo. lent interpretation of his petulance, took the only way with him that could be attended with any be- neiit. — " I will fash you nae mair,'" said he, ad- dressing him emphatically, " as ye seem to be contrite for your fault ; but, in order to try whe- ther ye have the right leaven o' repentance in you, I will task you to a task that will do you good for a' the remainder of your days^^ He then ordered him to get the first fifty Psalms by heart, and interdicted him from all play and pastime till he had learnt them. , From that moment Andrew applied himself to learn the Psalms, witli a perseverance that quite surprised the master, who had hitherto regarded him but as a droll and curious creature. The shortness of the time in which he performed the task was not, however, remarkable; for his me- mory was not well adapted to literature, but his singular abstraction from all his play-fellows, and the earnestness with which he adhered determi- nately to hU task, astonished every one. During the intervals of t]'*3 school hours, he was seen sit- (( THE TASK. 21 I ting by himself in the lea of a headstone in the church-yard, muttering verse after verse from the Psalm-book which he held in his hand. In this situation Mary Cunningham, the sister of Willy, happened to pass, and seeing him, said, " ^Vhat pre ye doing there, Wheelie ?"" He looked up, but, without answering her ques- tion, repeated in a loud monotonous voice, " My heart inditing is Good matter in a song." " O, hae ye ho got your Psalms yet !'' exclaims cd Mary, for she had heard from her brother of his particular additional punishment ; and going up close to him, inquired how many he had learnt. *' I can say ane-and-forty a' through, Miss Mary, without missing a word.'' " What a lee, Wheelie, that is/' said Mary, " naebody could ever say so many Psalms straight tliroug'," " Will ye hearken me ?" said Andrew ; and she took the book, which he at the same time offered, •and leaning over the headstone behind him, bade him begin. CHAPTER III. ::Sl I !:i 1 i! " That man hath perfeet blessedness Who walketh not astray," he immediately repeated in one unvaried stream of voice, " But dwelleth in the scorner's chair. And stands in sinner's way." " O, Wheelie, Wheelio, ye canna say the first verse o" the vera first Psalm ; a pretty like story, that ye hae gotten ane-and-forty by heart !"" ex- claimed Mary. Reference was, in consequence, made to the book ; and after some farther parley, Andrew re- sumed, and went on as far as the twelfth Psalm, without missing a single word, to the delighted surprise of his fair auditor. By this time, how- ever, it was necessary that he should go to school^ and Mary return home ; but, before parting, she agreed to visit him again at the same place next day to hear the remainder, and she kept her word. Again the book was in her hand, and leaning over the tombstone, with Andrew sitting below, she listened with unwearied pleasure to the unde- viating and inflexible continuance of his monoto- nous strain, till he had reached the thirty-first THE TASK. 23 d stream the first ke story, irtr ex- le to the [drew re- 1 Psalm, blighted ne, how- school^ ting, she ace next :ept her leaning y below, le unde- monoto- irty-first Psalm, when the same causes that occasio^d the former interruption again obliged them to sepa- rate, after a renewal of the compact. On the third day, Andrew compleated not only the forty-one, lut two more that he had learnt in the meantime. Mary confessed her admiration of his wonderful genius, and from thenceforth, till he had completed his task, she was his regular visitor. Out of this circumstance a greater degree of intimacy arose between them, than is usual among boys and girls of their age. She admired him as a prodigy of talent, and he was pleased when he met her, on account of the interest she had taken in his task. From the attack on her aunt, how, ever, he had been prohibited from approaching " The Place,'' as the CraigJand mansion-house was called by the villagers ; and as she was educated by Miss Mizy herself, preparatory to being in due time sent to an Edinburgh boarding-school, they had few opportunities of meeting. But on Sun- day he always took care to stand in the path by which the Laird's family crossed the church-yard, and a smile was as regularly exchanged between s! Jl4 CHAPTER III. them mpassing. As often also as the minister read out to be sung any one of the fifty Psalms, Mary would peep over the front of the Laird's laft, to where Andrew sat beside his <]5Tandmother in the area below ; and on these occasions she never missed his eye, which seemed to be instinctively turned up in expectation of meeting her's. Ju this way, the germ of a mutual affection was implanted, before either was awakened by Nature to the sense of love and beauty, or informed by the world of thie disparity of their condition. They were themselves unconscious of the tie with which simplicity had innocently linked them together — ■ and being as yet both free from the impulses of passion, they fe]t not the impediments which birth and fortune had placed between them. The Craigland family was one of the most an- cient in the county ; the estate was large, but by the indolence of the Laird, it was much neglefc'ted, and the rental was in consequence small. The woods, however, were valuable, and the old tacksj or leases, were drawing to a close ; so that, while in a state of comparative penury, it seemed pro- bable that both Cunningham and his sister would M- THE TASK. 25 inherit a very ample patrimony. Of this thiir aunt Miss Mizy was fully sensible, and frequently complained to her brother, that he should allow his son, with such an inheritance in view, to be brought up aniong the children of the tenants. But her complaints were long unavaihng; the Laird had been educated in the same school with the fathers of these children, and he could disco- ver nothing in Ms' sister's remonstrances to make him wish to see his son a finer gentleman than himself « The awfuMike thing," however, had a more impressive effect than her lectures. It was an exploit of mischief, far surpassing all the easy pranks of his soft youth ; and upon the mi. nister, at Miss Mizy's instigation, representing to him the disgrace and dishonour that would ensue to the family, if the heir was long permitted to as- sociate with such unmeet playmates, as the boys of Mr Tannyhiirs school, he consented that Willy should be sent from home, and placed at an aca- demy suitable to his rank and prospects. This was accordingly done, and like other boys that drop away from among their school-feUows, Cun- ningham was soon forgotten. VOL. I. u I " 26 THE FAIE. :!• !:) CHAPTER IV. THE FAIR. liif i ii' : .1 ' ■ j'li t Aftee Cunningliam was removed from Mr Tan- nyhill's school, a considerable change took place among ovir hero's playmates. The fraternity to which the two boys belonged, was, in fact, in the course of that summer, broken up ; and, for some time, Andrew was without any particular compa- nion. These temporary intermissions of friendship are, however, common to men as well as boys ; but the cares of our riper years make us less sensible of the blank left by the removal of a neighbour, than the loss we suffered when a school-fellow was taken away. The nickname of Wheelie, in consequence of this change, was gradually forgotten, or rather ceased to be any longer in use ; while the strip- linghimself seemed daily in quest of something that he codd not find, either on the moorlands, or THE FAIR. 27 -k along the hedge-rows and the belts of planting that skirted the hills and farms of the Craiglands. He was, as his grandmother said, for some time « hke a tynt creature T' and for lack of other company, often, on the road-side, fell into discourse with tra- velling tinklers, blue-gown«, or old soldiers, who had acquired a sufficient stock of wounds and scars to set them up in beggary. Poor Andrew, how- ever, had nothing to give them ; but, nevertheless, it was remarked that they always left him seem- ingly better pleased than they ever quitted the Laird^s yett, even when Miss Mizy, after the ten* day, allowed an extra neaveful to their wonted weekly almous. In the evenings, Andrew had recourse to the firesides of the gash and knacky carles and car- lins of the viUage. Still, even in their queerest sto- ries, he found a deficiency, for he had no friend of his own age to share his remarks afterwards. About HaUowe^en, however, this want was sup- plied. At the distance of a mile from Stoneyhohn lay the smaU estate of Woodside, a mailing, as it was called, with a house somewhat better than the common farm-steadings. The proprietor happened il CHAPTER IV. to die, and the lands were rented by his heirs to a neighbouring farmer ; the house and garden being in consequence to let, were taken by a Mrs Pier- ^ton, the widow of a Glasgow merchant, who, at the Martinmas term, took possession. This matron had but one child, a fine smart rattling boy of the name of Charles ; who was sent to the master's school, where he and Andrew soon became inseparable. The (hstance of his mother's house from the village, occasioned him, as is usual in such circumstances, to bring hid dinner in his pocket at first ; he was afterwards allowed to dine with Andrew — ^an arrangement of some advantage to old Martha ; for Mrs Pierston was in good cir- cumstances, and indulgent to her only son. Thus commenced one of those attachments which are formed but at school, and are generally supposed to weather the changes of fortune, and the blasts of adversity, better than the friendships of more considerate years. The buoyancy of Pierston's spirits gave him a seeming ascendancy over Wylie ; but it was soon observed by the neighbours, that, in reality, An- drew was the master, and that by submitting to !lt' 'i THE FAIR. 29 leirs to a ien being [rs Pier- who, at le smart was sent rew soon mother''s I is usual !r in his I to dine [vantage ;ood cir- 1. Thus lich are upposed le blasts of mote e him a r-as soon ty, An- tting to ^4 the pranks and whims of Charles in small affair, he uniformly obtained the management of thing, of greater moment, if such language may be ap. piled to the disinterested concerns of school-boys Pierston had also, as it might have been supposed from Its early effects, another advantage over hi, rustic companion. He had spent his boyhood in Glasgow, and had been several years at the Gram- mar-school of that city, before his mother removed to the Woodside house. He was in consequence pretty weU, for his time, accompUshed in many tncks. He stood much less in awe of the munici. pal dignitaries of the neighbouring towns ; and, accordingly, ; : the different fairs, to which he con. sta„tlyind,cd Andrew to accompany him, he not only kept his part better among the town boy, but even went farther than most of them in tU frohcs customary on such occasions. But although n was said of Charles that he was a perfect devff, unb, he had a generous warmth of heart, and x hvely good humour, that bespoke a favourable in. teiTiretation to his worst and wildest stratagems _ Many an old apple-woman at the fairs, liowever. on seeing the gouk and the tittling approach, (a. the two boys were caUed,) watched their tempting 'i !■ - I If! i 30 CHAPTEE IV. If piles of toys and delectables with gleg een, and staff grasped to repel some pawkie aggression ; while, at the same time, the boys were always merrily welcomed ; for Charles had plenty of pocket mo- ney, and spent it freely. If, in those excursions to the fairs, Pierston found fun and frolic, Andrew reaped some expe- rience of the world. He soon saw that the money his companion spent was sufficient to set up any old woman with a stand ; and the thought occur- red to him, that if he could get Charles, on the next Fair day, to give his money to Janet Pirn, a sly and droll old lame widow, with whose tales and ballads they had been often entertained du- ring the vdnter, they might be able to pay Janet a shilling for her trouble, and make a great deal of money by the speculation. The idea was most delightful ; but Charles justly dreaded that if the existence of the copartnery should become known to the other boys, especially to those belonging to the towns, the consequences would be ruinous, as Janet would assuredly be plundered without mer- cy. This consideration, however, was soon got over, by Andrew saying, that if they kept their own secret, it could never be known. THE PAIR. 31 nd staff while, merrily cet mo-5[ 'ierston e expe- money up any !; occur- on the ;t Pirn, se tales ned du- y Janet eat deal as most It L^ the ; known iging to aous, as )ut mer- oon got pt their ^ i erms were accordingly proposed to Janet, who readily acceded to them ; and when the Kilwin nmg Fair day came round, she made her appear, ance at the corner of the bridge, seated in an arm Chan., dressed in her red cloak and black Sunday bonnet, with a table before her, covered with a doth secretly borrowed by Charles from his mo- thers napeiy chest, and temptingly adorned with a competent stock of the requisite allurements, rhe boys themselves had accompanied Janet into Imne to buy them, and they also assisted her to set them out to the best advantage. The muscal. mons were declared to be as big as doos' eggs^ the sweeties and corrianders were of aU sizes and colours-intermingled with the smallest and fair- ^t Mistress Nanse-the rock of Gibraltar was ^d forth, .ith an its best veins particularly turn, ed towanls the view-.parfiament^akes, and gin- ger-bread watches, richly gilded-spiles of rails and of hgs^ems of sugar-candy, and amber lumps of barley-sugar, constituted this garden of Hespe- ndes ; round which a formidable array of idolatries of all descriptions, from Ogres, with a curran in the forehead instead of an eye, to game cocks with 32 CUAPTEE IV. bits of cinnamon for spurs, were exhibited to the greatest advantage. Such another stand was not in the whole Fair. Janet had a great run, aP'^ the two boys, each with a stick in his hand, stood cen> tinels at the ends of the table. All went on for some time in the most prosperous wa/y ; Andrew counted the gains that were flowing in, and Charles enticed customers by the bravado of his eulogium on the articles for sale. But this display of goods, and of the interest which the gouk and the tittling had in the concern, excited the envy and jealousy of their less successful competitors ; and when about noon, Janet and another carlin adjourned to one of the public-houses to get a bottle of ale to their dinner of bread and cheese, the secret was divulged that she was but an agent and a hire- ling. We shall not attempt to describe the speed with which the story spread, nor the indigna<« tion of all the rival sweetie-wives. The juve* nile customers, who had dealt with Janet mere-, ly because her sweets were the best at the Fair^ thought themselves cheated, and opened an in- cessant fire of the small shot of pips, while a tre* mendous battery of twenty mouths, every now and then, roared from the adjacent stands. Andrew ad- THE FAIR. 89 vised Janet to pack up her things quietly, but Charles insisted she should not budge a step ; they had as good a right to sell things at the Fair as any other body, and he was prepared to defend it. —The attack continued— the crowd gathered— Charles lost his temper, and struck a great heavy lumbering country lout that was laughing at him over the fingers. The fellow retaliated. Some of tlie spectators took part with Charles— a battle- royal ensued ; in the midst of which the table was overset, and all its treasures trodden in the mire, amidst tlie acclamations and tlie clapping of hands of all the rival dealers. The two boys seeing their golden dream thus dissipated, retired from the scene, and left those who had been involved in their cause to fight the battk out. But they did not retire to bewail their misfortune— they were more heroic. Charles saw, and iiKleed felt, that he was no match for tho coufrtry lad who had thrashed him, but his ire did not burn the less fiercely. On the contrary, he went with Andrew in quest of ijome of their school- feUows, to assist in revenging the wrong which he had himself provoked. B 2 34 CHAPTER V. i i^^ i ^} ■ ;i :-li ''.'■ I CHAPTER V. COMMON SENSE. When the two boys had walked up the street, and passed through the gate of the mason's lodge into the churchyard, without meeting with any of their companions, Andrew halted and said, " Od, CharUe, I'm thinking we had as weel bide as we are — Yon's « horned stot, in comparison to us, wha hae but banes o' grisle — and a sohd chap o' his neive would be as deadly as Goomy the smith's forehammer — Od, I'm no for med- dling ony mair wi' the muckle brute." Fierston reprobated the pusillanimity of this prudent sentiment, and became more and more resolute for revenge. I COMMON SENSE. 35 « Vera weel^ cried Wylie, « tak your ain gait, and get your een steekit and your nose smashM, and see what ye'll mak o^t— a pretty piriit ye'll be, me leading you hame, blind and bleeding, m" a napkin, or an auld stocking tied round your head. Eh ! what a skreighing at the sight o^ you, Charlie, there wiU be .'—your mother running out and in, clapping her hands for her murder't bairn."" " I dinna care though he were to kill me," ex- claimed Charles ; " if I had but my will o^ him before hand." ** Ay, thaf 8 sense," said Andrew, " gin ye could but get your wiU o' him first-But the fear w, that he may get the will o' us-and what's to be done then ?" Pierston was a little puzzled with this, a xd hesitating, said, after a moment's reflection,- " We might watch for him, and stane him frae behind the dike, when he's gaun hame in the gloaming." " ^''' » """"^y tWng to way-lay a defenceless man_Od, CharUe, I thought ye had toair spunk,- rephed Andrew, b perfect sincerity, but still only 3G CHAPTER Vi>» i .>!; ' ,i: ati*ious to pacify the resentment of his friend. Totfch my hoiK)ur touch my Hfe, was a sentiment that Pierston had learnt attiong the youths of his G^-n kidney at the fTrammar-school of Glasgow j and the implied uttworthiness of taking his eromy unprepared, affected him in his most vulnerable feelings. " What am I to do, Andrew ? It's a dreadfu' thing to gie up my satisfaction. — Look at my lug whar the brute struck Ine — ^it's birzed black and blue — deeviFs in him, but I'll gar him rue 't." Andrew examined the wounded part, and de^ Glared it ^vas just a flea bite. " It's a wee rr-d," said he, " and before half an hour's bye ye'll ne'er fin't. Man, Charlie, it's baimly to make sic a wark for a bit tig on the haffet—a' ye gottin's no the tae half o' what ye gied— for ye're a deevil at a paik, when your birsies aare up— I would na come i A your reverence then for something." Pierston was flattered by the compliment to his strength and valour ; his pride was also touched at the idea of exaggerating the effects of the blow he bad received, which Andrew, in fact, adroitly un- dervalued, and he said, <* As for the thump on COMMON SENSE. 37 ■f I, the side o' the head, I hae thole^t twenty times mair before noo ; and I think I would be content if I was sure he had gotten as muckle fra^ me.'' " Ye need hae nae doubt o' that, Charlie, for h^ got twa for ane-ye ken, ye were tlfe first aggres- sor, ye struck him first wi' the stick, and he gied you but a gentle slaik wi's paw-I dinna think he was very wud for a' thafr-and then ye birFd at him.~Od ! but yeVe a terrier when in a pas. sion, Charlie-and when a's considere^,..J; think we aught to be thankfu' that we came off wi' hale banes, and nae blood spilt." Hut the Stan was coupit, and a' our mer. chandize lost-Wha's to mak up that ?^ replied Pierston, fairly at a loss for a sufficient reason U| nurse his rage any longer. . " I hae had ray dioughts o' that too," said our hero, " and I jealouse . that it was nae a right thing o' us to be marrows in ony sic trade wi' Clippie Janet. It was interfering wi' the auld sweetie wives-ye saw what a stoor raise amang them when the truth came out-there were nae ither callants at the Fair keeping stands.'' 38 CHAPTER V. ¥0 ,..4< That's weel frae you, Andrew,*" said Charles, " for it was a' your own doing—I did na care a bawhee for the stand, and a' the profit/' »' ril mak nae denial,'' was Wylie's discreet an- swer ; " for I kent nae better ; but I hae got in- sight by the fipshot, and I wish the whole story were weel hidden ; for gin that lassie Mary Cun- ningham hears that we were keeping a stand, like twa sweetie wives at the Fair, she'll herry my seven senses wi' her jeering— a' ye hae gotten will be naething to what I maun thole, so let's keep a calm sough and close tongues." Charles was now fully persuaded, not only of the propriety of stifling his revenge, but also con- vinced that they had not been engaged in any very honourable adventure ; and said, with some degree of mortification and chagrin, " I hope Janet has ta'en care o' the table cloth, for sic a rippet there will be about it if it's lost." Andrew perceiving that he had gained a com- plete victory, proposed that they should return to cripple Janet ; and they found her replacing the stand with such of the articles as she had been •4' COMMON SENSE. 39 able to pick up, selling the damaged great bar- gams to the children, who, hovering round her deplored the wreck of such delicious commodities.' The moment, however, that the gowk and the tit- tlmg were again seen on the spot, the auld wives around immediately broke out on them a second tmie ; and such had been the effect of Andrew^s representation of the unworthy nature of their co- partnery, that Charles was quite daunted by their banter, and slunk away. Our hero, however, was none dismayed; but with great address turned the scale in their favour, by telling Janet that he and Charles gave up to her aU the merchandize and profit, on condition that she took good care of the table-cloth. Never was generosity better timed-the gift was a little fortune to old Janet, and she so loudly expressed her thanks and gra! titude, that the other women, to whom the boyg had been good customers on other occasions, join- ed mstantly in praising them to the skies, and long before the evening, the gowk an4 the tittling were m as high favour as ever. But the consequences of this adventure did not stop here. It reached the ears of Mrs Pierston, 40 CHAPTER V. who had, indeed, previously begun to suspect, that the school at Stoneyholm was not exactly the fit*, test place far a boy of her son's prospects ; saad Charles was soon after removed, and sent to com- pletd his education in one of the neighbouring towns, where he continued till he was summoned to London by an uncle, a great city merchant. , A second time Andrew was thus again left to him- self; but the friendship between him and Charles was not entirely broken by their separation. Fot at the vacation and holidays, Pierston regularly visited his mother at the Woodside-House, and his intimacy with Andrew was, on those occasions, as uniformly renewed. The difference of the spheres in which they moved was, however, gra- dually operating a change on the characters of both. Charles, destined for the mercantile pro- fession, and amidst genteel companions, educated in the hopes and prospects of opulence, was every year developing more and more into a spruce and tonish gallant ; while Andrew, bred up in rustic poverty, and without any definite views as to his future life, settled into a httle gash carhe, remark- able chiefly for a straight forward simplicity. His ^^ COMMON SENSE. i% drollery and good humour, however, rendered him a familiar and prodigious favourite with every body ; and although few in the parish were, per- haps, more destitute of any visible means of rising in the world, a confident belief was entertained among all who knew him, that he was destined to become a rich man— a great one none ever ven- tured to anticipate ; nothing indeed could be more opposite to any idea of personal grandeur, than his small, short, round-headed figure, smooth ap- ple cheeks, and little twinkling eyes. 4a CHAPTEE VI. CHAPTER VI. THE CONSULTATION. lii At the period of which we are now treating, ndther the commerce nor manufactures of Scot- land had risen to that }. ight, which has since wrought such changes, not only in the appearance of the country, but affecting the very ^depths and principles of the national character. The youth having few means of advancement, and but a narrow field of enterprize at home, sought their fortunes abroad ; and good school- ing, as it was called, constituted the common pa- trimony of the Scottish adventurer. As Andrew was rendered unfit by his feeble frame for the drudgery of a farmer, his grandmother, actuated in her humble sphere by the national spirit, re- solved to spare no cost on his education. But whether to breed him for a 4ivine, a doctor, or a THE CONSULTATION. 4B lawyer, was a point not easily determined. It presented even more difficulties to her imaging, tion, than any apprehension which she entertained of procuring the means. For with respect to the latter, her trust in the care of Providence was unbounded ; and she had heard of many gospel- ministers, come of no better stock, who bravely upheld the banner of the testimony, even unto the death. She had also heard of doctors who had returned nabobs from India, that began as shop- boys to druggists ; and of lawyers on the free- hold-roll of the county, that had commenced their career by running errands for town-officers. But as she could not determine for herself, she resolved to consult the master, Accordingly, one afternoon, when the school had been dismissed, she went to his house, and found him at his tea, listening, with a faint smile that played among his features, like sunshine through the hedgerow, to some little comic occurrence in the village which Andrew was describing, while sitting at his side as a companion, but not at that time a parti- cipating guest. The small room where they were seated, was ■but 'from time to time they heard of each other, and the #ld woman rejoiced at the prosperity of her niece, but without thinking, till John Grledd's misfortune, that it would ever be of any avail to her grandlson. That event, however, directed her eyes towards Mrs Ipsey ; and it was determined to soUcit her influence with her liusband on our hero''s behalf. A letter was accordingly written by Andrew to that effect ; and, by return of the post, a kind and considerate reply was received, honourable alike to Mrs Ipsey's spirit as a Scotch- woman, and to her husband's generosity as an Eng- lishman. She informed Martha, that Mr Ipsey had retired from business several years ; but that his successor, Mr Vellum, would receive Andrew,, whenever it was convenient for him to come to London; and that as his outfft would probably CHANGES. 61 cost more tiian her aunt could well afford, she inclosed a bill for twenty pound«, not as a gift, but as a loan, to be repaid by Andrew whenever he could do so. ..The receipt of this friendly and considerate let- ter was an auspicious omen, that every one in Stoneyholm regarded as a sure token of something grand in the future fortunes of Andrew ; and to none did it give more pleasure than to the mas- ter,; whom our hero himself was the first to inform of his great good luck. r»'^ i m glad to hear it, Wheelie,'^ said the kind and good TannyhiU ; « but neither in this, nor in any thing else, be either overly lifted up, or cast down. Take some honest and honourable purpose in your mind, and make all your endea- vours bend to the attainment thereof; by that yell not only get forward in life, but your steps will be steady and respected, though your passa- ging be slow. But, my bairn, set not your thought on riches as an end, but only as a means, for something more solid to yoursel, and pleasing in the sight of Him, who, in this favour, has given you erls of the servitude he claims from you— CIIAPTEE VIII. tlic which is to be kindly and generous, but nei-^ ther to be inconsiderate nor lavish."" Andrew was fully sensible of the force of this advice ; and perhaps he was the more impressed with its practicable wisdom, inasmuch, as it was in unison with the natural and habitual course of his own reflections. For although he was not a Sir Isaac Newton, to reason in his boyhood about anything so well, as that philosopher's meditations on the cause which occasioned the fall of an ap- ple, he was, nevertheless, in his way, endowed with ft pecuhar genius, and bad formed, even at this ewly period, a scheme of life and conduct, in which he was resolved to persevere. ■ ii'i ■] PIIKPAEATIONS. 63 CHAPTER IX. PEEPARATIOXS. In some respects, tlie parish of Stoneybolm was, at the period of Andrew's departure, not so fortunate in its pastor, as its neighbour Dalmailing, of which the meek and pious Mr Balwhidder was then the incumbent, nor could it even be compa- red with the well-watered vineyard of Garnock, where the much celebrated Doctor Zachariah Pringle had, some years before, been appointed helper and successor. For the Reverend Doctor Dozadeal was a town-bred clergyman, and having been a tutor in the famUy of an Edinburgh advo- cate, had, of course, more, genteel manners, and less warmth of heart, than is usually found among the genuine presbyters of the Scottish church. In his address he was dry and grave, and mea- sured out his sentences as apothegms of impressive 64 CHAPTER IX. 'I i'i , . ll il K ': B"-' Be; 11 ri 1 f ii' !. wisdom. He preferred tlie formal dinners of the heritors, to the sick-beds of the lowlier members of his flock. This was natural ; but he also studied, it was alleged, a little too earnestly, the advance- ment of his interests in this world ; and it was un- derstood that he had only accepted the cure of the parish, in the hope, and under the promise, of one more suited to his habits. He took no pains to ingratiate himself with his parishioners — he knew few of them by name, and they seldom trou- bled him with their httle cares and anxieties, the tempering of which, by advice and consolation, is perhaps the best, as it is the most amiable, of all a pastor's duties. His deportment and manners were, however, spotless and irreproachable ; and the habitual respect with which the Scottish pea- santry regard their ministers, secured him all the external deference that is commonly paid by the people, to a character which religion, tradition, and patriotism, have hallowed to the national affec- tions. To a being constituted with the peculiar hu- mours of our hero, such a man as Doctor Doza- dcal could not fail to appear in the most unfavour- PREPARATIONS. 65 able light. The whole of the framed and set-up manners which the Doctor had assumed, as parti- cularly dignified, were disagreeable to Andrew, and his shrewdness detected, beneath the solemn cloak of his consequentiality, a character which, on account of its own endowments and merits, was really entitled to no extraordinary respect. In- stead, therefore, of being impressed with those sentiments of awe and admiration, which the Doc- tor constantly, on all occasions, endeavoured to in- spire, and which, from a few of the parishioners, he certainly sometimes obtained, Andrew was in the practice, even before he went to John Gledd's, of mocking his pomposity, and this irreverent dis- position was none weakened at the time when the preparations were making for his departure for London. His grandmother, however, deemed it necessary that he should pay the Doctor a formal visit, prior to his departure, in order to receive his advice, according to a good old custom that had prevailed from time immemorial, and which will ever be preserved, while the intercourse be- tween the minister and his parishioners is main- tained on tine christian and presbyterian princi- r-^, 1 lift CHAPTER IX, pies. The Doctor himeelf would, perliaps, have been as willing as our hero, to have dispensed with the performance of this ancient homage, at least if we may judge by the result. , I Andrew crept slowly and reluctantly to the Manse door, and on asking for the minister, was «hewn into the parlour, where the Doctor was sit- ting at a table, slumbering in his elbow chair. A new book, with a few of the early leaves cut, lay before him, and an ivory folder, which had drop* ped from his hand, was lying on the floor at his foot. . His age might be near fifty ; in his person he was inclined to corpulency, and there was a cer- tain degree of sallow lethargy in the cast and com- plexion of his features, the effect of habitual, ra- ther than of constitutional, indolence. Like most country clergymen in the forenoon, he was slovenly dressed. His breeches knees were only half-buttoned, his stockings ill drawn up, his slioes unfastened, and down in the heel, his neck-^ cloth lax and dirty, and his whole appearance be- tokening a men little liable to be disturbed by visitors. .^'•' PREPARATIONS. 67 Andrew, on entering the room, made a bob with his head for a bow, and stood for about a minute swinging his hat in his hand, and looking round the walls and towards the ceiling, casting a momentary glance tOTvards the Doctor, who, rou< sed by his entrance, seemed to wait in expectation of some communication ; seeing, however, that Andrew was not inclined to speak, the Doctor said, " WeU, Andrew, what is your business with me?'' , .;_ " My gi-annie sent me to tell you, sir, that Fm gaun to Lonon, to learn the law there,"— was the reply, uttered at, but not to, the Doctor; for by this time his eyes had settled on the dial-plate of the minister's watch, which hung over the mantle piece. :" And when do you go ?" inquired the Doctor, "As soon as my grannie can get my bit pack o' duds ready," said Andrew, in the same careless and awkward manner. The Doctor then request- ed him to sit down, and Andrew seated himself on the chah- nearest the door. " I hope," said the minister, " you will do your endeavour to give satisfaction to your employers.'* 68 CHAPTER IX. H iS " An I dinna do that, what will come o' me ?^ was the answer. " You must study to acquire respectful man- ners, and to behave properly towards your superi- ors." Andrew made no reply to this, but raising his eyes, which, on taking his seat, he had cast down- ward, he looked for a moment at the Doctor, who continued, " For you must have often heard it re- marked, that a man's manners commonly make his fortune." " Atweel I should ken that,""" said Andrew, in the most indifferent manner ; "for it was aye the first copy-line that the maister set, when he put us in sma'' write." The Doctor's countenance was a little troubled by this reply, not only on account of the words, but the manner in which it was said ; and he re- sumed with an accent somewhat approaching to severity. " I have hoard that you have good friends to take you by the hand in Loncbn, and it is well you are so fortunate ; for I doubt, young man, you will need all their assistance." The cheeks of Andrew flushed for a moment at ) me pn ul man- superi- ising his 3t down- tor, who id it re- [lake his drew, in aye the 1 he put troubled e words, d he re- jhing to lends to ; is well ig man, •ment at PREPARATIONS. this observation, and he again darted a glance from under his brows towards the Doctor, who continued speaking, his voice gradually rising in- to the tone of a lecture. " Hitherto you have been but on the threshold of the world, and you have experienced none of its difficulties ; you will find now that mankind are, in general, an unfriendly race, and that in London they are very different from your rustic friends here in Stoneyholm. There the success- ful look proudly down on the poor, bestriding the path, to prevent new candidates from sharing with them the vantage ground of fortune/' " Gin theyll no let me bye, I maun try to run through aneath their legs,'' said Andrew, inter, ruptmg the oration with a sly indifferemy, whrch effectually disconcer^.ed the reverend Doctor, who, takmg up the book from the table, said, in a tone equivalent to a dismissal, " I wish you, young man, all manner of success, and that the blessing of Heaven may prosper your undertakings." . " Tm very mickle obliged to you," replied An. drew, drily, and opening the door at the same k P" ' ta i^ i^r ■ II >) 70 CHAPTER IX. time, bobbed his head as carelessly as when he entered, and immediately retired. , " What did the minister say to you P"^ inquired Martha, when Andrew went home a little sulkily, " I fancy he gied me his benison," said An- drew. " But I'm thinking he's no that weel tersed in the folk o' London, m Jr than mysel ; for he would hae gart me trow, that they hae horns on their head to dish the like o*" me, and hooves to tread upon us when doon. For a"* that, I'm no fear't." During the short remainder of the time he spent at Stoneyholm, he seemed, as the period of his departiure drew near, to attach himself more and more to the different gaffers and goodies of the village, and to enjoy their peculiarities with a keener relish than ever. His little attentions, in this respect, gave a degree of eclat to the event of his removal,, which could hardly have been ex- pected to attend the transit of one so young, and so slenderly connected in the parish. On the evening immediately before he set out on his journey, a number of the farmer lads, who had been at the master's school with him, came in to pukpaeations. n the clachan to bid him fareweU, and a Hctle dance was, in consequence, struck up in Saunders Chap- pin's public. With the friendliness and the good- humour of the party, he was evidently much de- lighted ; but an old man, who h -ppened to look in upon the ploy, said, « that Wheelie took it a* as aue of some degree ;''— a remark wliich was af- terwards remembered, much to tl • credit of the sagacious observer, and which, althougJi there could be as. yet no particular change in Andrew's demeanour, would imply that he felt himself no longer belonging to the same class as hi youthful associates. It is for philosophers, however, to assign the proper source of that which the village sage so early discovered as an omen of surcess. If 1 *4m 72 CHAPTEE X. rmi CHAPTER X. DEPAETUEE. li 4 In the mortiing on which our hero was to bid a long adieu to his native village, he was awake and stirring with the lark. It was the eye of summer, and the weather was clear and beautiful. The smoke rose from his grandmother's chimney as straight as a column, and stood over it like a high-spreading tree, long before the symptoms of housewifery appeared in any other cottage in the hamlet ; for the Glasgow carrier was to pass at sunrise, and Andrew was requested to be in rea- diness by that time to go with him. When the carrier stopped to call him, he came instantly out alone, with his box on liis shoulder, and the door was immediately closed behind ; no one saw Mar- tha till long after he was out of sight. The mas- 2 'j^ THE DEPARTURE. 73 ter, who was abroad to convoy him a part on his way, was the first who visited her, and he found her sitting with the Bible on her knee, wiping her spectacles : there were drops on the page, which shewed what had dimmed the glasses. In going along the road, several of the lads with whom Andrew had spent the preceding even- ing were standing at the end of the loans which led to the farms where they were as herds or as ploughmen, and they blithely shook hands with him as he passed, hoping he would return with gold in goupens. But the cart soon drove beyond the hmits of the circle which contained all his school-fellows, and reached the head of a rising ground, where, the road diverging behind the hills, Stoneyholm, and the woods and fields of the Craiglands, are hidden from the view. At this spot our young adventurer paused, and looked back ;— no presentiment of evil overcast hisliopes at that moment, but a number of gay and cheer- ful recollections endeared the scene to him, and he said to the carrier, " It's a blithesome place yon, and I'm thinking it may l^e a while before VOL. I. D ''ms 74 CHAPTEfi X. I'll see sic bonny trees and green braes, as the woods and lands o' the Craiglands." After this, he continued to walk boside the car- rier for some time in silence ; and, indeed, nothing is remembered of the remainder of his journey to Glasgow, nor did he himself recollect any thing he passed, till the High Church steeples were in sight, which the carrier p)inted out, by touching him on the back ; for he was then seated on the cart, and had been for some time in a state of drowsy reverie, that seemed aim' st like sleep. At Glasgow he was conducted to his relation, Mr Treddles the manufacturer. It was about three o'clock when he arrived at the house ; and as the worthy fabricator of muslins told ourselves at the last Circuit, " there never was surely a drol- ler like thummert o^ a creature seen entering a biggit land. — He had on a pair o' Jark-blue pat- dyed rig-and-fiu" muckle-wheel worsted stockings, though it was a day that dogs lay panting wi' their tongues out, and his coat was cut wi' an eye to a considerable increase baith in his bulk and stature. We were just gaun to tak our kail, and the gudewife bade Andrew sit in and partake, but » I i*. THK DEPARTURE. 75- the ' J he said,—' Od, Mistress Treddles, yeVe Ur in the day wi' your meal-time. I thought ye would hae Imd that o'er by twai hours, and as I hae ate the piece on the road that grannie gied me, I'm no that ready yet for ony mair— so wi' your will, ni e'en gae out und look at the ferlies and unco's o' Glasgow.' " Wi' that,'' quo' Mr Treddles, « he whiskit like -^ whitteret out o' the door, a d we saw na. thing o' him till mair than twa hoiu-s after, when he came home, ai.d just confounded us, for he had l>een to sei King William, and was up at the Hie Kirk—ni ne'er forget the laugh we got, at what he said o' the College. It's been a sprose amang us ever sin syne.-* Ileh ! quo' he, * but yon's a gruesome like place ; the very winno s are like the peering een and bent brows of auld Philso- phorum.' " It happened that night," continued the ma- nufacturer in his narrat- n, « that we had some neighbours in to their tea, an., the mi.stre s had provided short^bread and seed-cake, wi' some o' her jelly and marmolet, according to the use and ^'ont 0' such occasions. Wht. the tea was fiUed CHAl'TLU \. i ^11 ri out, our friend drew in his chair to the tahlr, and wasna slack cither wi' teeth or claw on the dain- ties.-t—' Ye seem to hke that kind o' bread, An- drew,' said the mistress. — * Atweel," quo' he, ' it's no ill to tak,' and wi' that he continued to work awa' at it wi' the greatest industry ; and when he was satisfied, he set back his chair, and took the chumla-lug, in afore Mrs M' Vicar, the major's widow, a prejinct elderly woman, that never for- got it, tiU about nine o'clock, when he rose, and lifting one of the candles, said, ' Mistress Tred- dles, rU awa to my bed ; for I maun be up to get the Edinburgh carrier the morn's morning by skriegli o' day — Whar am I to cuddle ?' — I thought we would have a' deet at thi«. But when the lass took him wi' another light to the stranger's room, Mr Plank, that was o' the company, a deep and observant man, said, ' Yon lad's no to be laugh'd at — He''ll learn mair havens belyve ; and if he pursues his ain end wi' honesty, and as little in the awe o' the world as he seems to feel at pre^ sent, he'll thrive in London, or ony other place, wherein his lot may be cast/ " By this account, it would really seem that An- THE DErARTUIlE. 77 drew, in his outset, had produced a sensation even in Glasgow. It was certainly, however, not such as would have led any one to suppose he would ever become a favourite with the elegant and fa- shionable. On the following morning, as he said himself, by " the skriegh o' day," he was mounted with his " pack of duds" on the top of one of the Edin- burgh carts ; and in due time, in the afternoon, reached Linlithgow, where the carriers stopped. " Lithgow for wells, and Glasgow for bells," is a saying that few schoolboys in Scotland have not h'-^rH ; and Andrew was deeply versed in those hon< urable traditions which exalt the affec- tions of Scottish patriotism so highly, that, even with the eyes of manhood, the Scotchman is rare- ly to he found, who, with all that travel and ex- perience teach to the contrary, will not contend for the superiority of the national monuments of his native land— to say nothing whatever of the superior excellence of her institutions. In An- drew this partiality was deeply impressed ; and, with mingled sentiments of admiration and sor- row, he contemplated the ruins of the royal pa- T8 CHAPTEU X. YL't lace, and inspected the dilapidated fountains which gave rise to the rhyme quoted. Linlithgow, in its day, was the Versailles of Scotland ; and the Court, which resided there prior to the Reforma- tion, was justly esteemed at the time one of the gayest in Europe. Holyrood and Stirling stand more dignified in the prejudices of the country, by tales of dark conspiracies, and bold adven- tures ; but the courtesies of chivalry and song are associated with Linhthgow. ^ f While Andrew was hovering round the skirts of thp Palace, ^n old woman, who happened M the time to be passing, with a large key, and a smaller tied to it, dangling in her hand, said, *• Hey, lad, would you like to see the Queer and the King's seat ?'' This was a temptation that Andrew was not then in a humour to resist ; but before indulging himself, he inquired what the sight would cost. " Ye maun gie me twopence, I'se warrant,'' said the woman. " 'Deed no, lucky," replied Andrew ; " fools and their siller are soon parted. I'll gie you twal pennies, gin ye like to tak it, and ye had better THE DEPARTUllE. (9 do ; for Fm gaun out o' tht kintra, and ye 11 hae nae chance to get either plack or bawbee frae me a' your days."' After some altercation Andrew was admitted, and sat himself in the very seat where the gal- lant and unfortunate James of Flodden-field used to hear mass ; and he saw also, with as sincere a faith in the truth of the story as any boy of his age did in the age when it happened, the chapel- aisle, where the apparition of St Andrew warned the King from that fatal campaign, which the Muses of Scotland have never ceased to deplore, and never more impressively than in our own time, converting, as it were, by a beautiful alche^ my, the memory of national disgrace and misfor- tunes into motives of national pride, that tend to add vigour to the energies of patriotism. i 3' 1 I * iCi' I li 80 CHAPTER XI. CHAPTER XI. EDINBURGH. ^ h - .4 The feelings with which the relics of regal grandeur at Linlithgow had inspired our hero, were greatly augmented, when, at an early hour next day, he beheld the Castle of Edinburgh rising above the mists that floated round its rocky base. But instead of indulging his curiosity when he reached the carrier's quarters, he immediately en- gaged a porter to carry his box^ and to conduct him to Leith, where he was that day to embark in a London trader. Fortunately the vessel was not to sail till the evening, and this allowed him seve- ral hours to inspect the curiosities of the city. The porter who had carried his trunk, on understand* ing his intention, offered his services, but they were declined ; and for two reasons, the principal i EDINBURGH. 81 of which was, that he would expect payment for his pains ; and the other, because he was a high- landman, that thought Macallum More a greater man than Nebuchadnezzar. Considering Andrew's intuitive perception of character, it is not probable from this opinion, for we quote his own words, that he sustained any loss by refusing the Highlander-'s guidance ; but in vi- siting the different parts of the Old Town, the C'as- tie, and Holyrood^houce, he sometimes wandered ; and as the Edinburgh boys are not less inchned to mischief than their contemporaries elsewhere, his inquiries were not always answered with a strict adherence to truth, or the most benevolent wish to set him in the right. However, he neverthe- less contrived to see all the most remarkable ob- jeets to which history has attached any import- ance ; and having satisfied himself in that respect, he dined on " parliaments'' and " quality,'" by which he both saved money and time, for he ate his dinner as he walked along. As the time approached when it was requisite he should go back again to Leith, he met two la- d2 82 CHAPTER Xr. \l 1 ■■.V 31, \ dies ; one of them was a tall elegant girl, with a sprightly fashionalde air ; the othep?, ^oi^s^e^^ibly older, and of a more sedate demeanour^^It was Mary Cunningham, and one of ^he governesses of the boarding-school whwe she had so long been. " Wlcc!ie !" exclaimed Maiy with d^li^t, the moment she saw him, " whatjs brought you here ?" Andrew for an instant stood aghast, to be so addressed by a lady so fine and fashionable ; but seeing who it was, recovered himself, as it w^e, with an clastic bound, and said, in his familiar manner, " I cam frae the Storey holm to Grlasgow on Johnny Gottera'*s cart, and syne here wi' the Edinburgh carrier.'' " Did ye ever see such a modi wart like thing 't^'' said Mary laughingly, turning to the governess ; " but he's as pawkie as a fairy ,-rGan ye say a* your fifty Psalms yet, WheeUe ?^ r ^ a.-; " May be I might, an' ye would hearken me again," was his answer, a little curiouslyr however. But to this Mary made no direct reply, only say- ing, " What are ye come to Edinbiiigji fo^ K ^ ** I'm Oil my way to I^ndoxi," " To London, Wheelie !" exclaimed Mary with EDINBUEGH. .'■ •^ m^iK'^-*-^ t'n hi li M 84 CHAPTER XI. ly went on board the vessel that was to him the bark of destiny. For the first two days after the trader left Leith, like most of the passengers, he was so dreadfully afflicted with what Doctor Pringle calls " the grie- vous prostration,'' that he could not raise his head ; but still there was something so queer in the man- ner in which he bore his sufferings, that it at once amused and interested his fellow-passengers. They saw by his appearance that he was only a simple country boy ; but the seJf-possession which he evin- ced in the intervals of the malady, shewed that, though clad in hodden-grey, he was not entirely made of rustic stuff. He, however, took no part in the conversation ; and the opinion of his shrewd- ness and sagacity was chiefly formed from his looks, and the manner in which he set about his little offices ; and chiefly by an observation on the biscuit, which was exceedingly hard ; " It's very good," said he, " and will eat wi' pains." On the day before reaching the Thames, his sickness had so much abated, that he began to en-- ^r into the humours of his companions, and aa opportunity was not long wanting to shew the ir- repressible drollery of his character EDIXBrRGH. 85 Among the passengers was a spruce young manj who had been a student at the University of Edinburgh ; foppish in his dress, stiff and conceit- ed in his manners, and singularly fastidious to. wards aU on board, msomuch, that he was gene- rally disliked ; but still, he so conducted himself, that he had not been exposed to any open ridicule. Andrew perceived how he was considered, and en. tering into the feelings of the party towards this unfortunate sprig of delicacy and condescension, addressed him after dinner, when the whole party, in consequence of a shower, were seated round the table below. ' , " I'm thinking," said he, very gravely, but at the same time looking pawkily and peering, ly round the table, ' ^ that I have seen you be- fore—and that ye hae had a roasted goose mony a day for your dinner— Were na ye prentice to Thomas Steek, the tailor in our parish .?" The student looked aghast while the laugh rose universal against him, and he repelled this assault on his gentility with the most vehement indigna- tion. :-:.," Na/' said Andrew, « Vm sure ye needna be ]^1 ■VJ i'^ I i m CHAPTEE XL T I I .;%• ■^;,«^ ! >■ , ashamed o' your trad^-^though it was thought that ye had fled the country-side for sptHliing the cat o' Tammy Daidle's breaks. It's an honest i^lling a tailor, and I ne'er heard it said that yo were gien to cabbaging ; but the airid witei thought ye werena sae gleg wi' your needle, as some others that had served their time with the same master^ though they said ye dippet your spoon in the parritch deeper than ony oT them.'' oidu^ The unfortunate fop was pe^ified ; every one but himself perceived the drift of the curious lit* tie country boy, and sat in admiration of what might be the issue. At last, the student, no longer able to restrain his rage, threatened to slay An- drew on the spot, who, nevertheless, with the most pwfect nonchalance, replied, — " Ye had better no try tiiat ; for gin ye strike me for what I'm say- ing, YU gar ye prove before the Lords that you're no a tailor ; and I am sure if it be sae that ye're no o' that craft, I'U refer to the present company, if ever they saw a creature so like ane. But its no your &ut, and if the ban' o' God has made you wi' shanks like ellwands, and sma' fingers to pook needles through clathe, we a' ken ye canna help it.'' EDINBURGH. 87 The Student, under his foppery, was not desti. tute of sense, and by the little descriptive touches in this last sentence, suspecting that Andrew was not really serious, endeavoured to turn the tables. 3ut our hero was more than his match at banter ; and before the etid of die voyage had so raised himself in the opinion of his feUow-passengers, that they were univemUy of opinion he was cak culated to make his way in London with great success, in spite of his little awkward figure, and the droll simpHdty of his manners. fit u% -iiA v '.,: ■pji^ '?rf r ?f'; . <>,•• ' ■ ' " '^'iit4 jI- a, Jiiiiiv \-x\ji •■'■■■■. •^1 .: V :•..:. . ' " ■■.■-■■ " \ I. ■ • ■■■ cVa.VrnTb^ ^i/ 'M'fUKJ:. i h M J 88 CHAPTER XII. I CHAPTER XII. LONDON. "iv hi ,'.' 'If! Immediately on his arrival'^ Andrew was con- ducted to the house of his relation, Mrs Ipsey, where having received a note to Mr Vellum, the solicitor, with whom her husband had provided him a situation, he went immediately to deliver it. It was rather adventurous for one so fresh from the country to attempt, on the first day, to find his way in London, with only " a glide Scotch tongue*" for his guardian geni ; the consequence was what might have been anticipated. He lost his way, and went wandering through the laby- rinth of streets in Mary-le-bone, seeking, as it were, an outlet ; his heart almost perishing within him. In this dilemma, however, he met with a V- ..1 '* - 4 I-OXDON. igular troke of 89 Picrston »d fortune. Ch^ had. about a year before, .,„ into his uncle 8 c mnting-hoi.se m the city, and happening to be in that part o'' the town on business, they accidentally met. ^ he joy of this encounter was e.xcessive-it rescued Andrew from despair. Charles was grown a gay and elegantly-formed youth, dressy and modish even foppery, for his imcle was liberal and indulgent to him, perhaps t. a fault ; but he was stiU the same frank, generou . and warm-hearted lad, and although na contrast either in appearance or character could be more striking than what th6se two school-fellows presented, he shook hands with Andrew, and welcomed him to London at once with jokes and shouts of glad. r. '* Lord bless me, but I am bhthe to see you," cried our hero, his spirit rebounding up into all its wonted self-possession, in finding himself again under the encouraging countenance of " a kent face/'-." T have been lost amang thir houses, man, for hours, till I beheve my head's no right. Od sake, if I wasna ready to lie down an' dee, had it no been for shame." r. K: A: %. S^. rMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^ S^^/%' . / >=> ^' 'y O^A /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 871-4503 ^1 ,v ^ \ \ 'i'^'^^ ^^%^ '^^ ^^•^ (/a wl ^' 7it J| I' irl 90 nUPTER XII. «( Why didn^t you call a coach ?^' said Pierston, ready to expire with laughter at the sincerity of Andrew^s description of his perplexity: " O, Charlie Pierston !* exclaimed thtf fio^fe, ai the utmost astonishment ; " me hire a coach ! Mary Conn m s coacli !*^the folk would hae thought I had gane by mysel—Na, na, demented as I hae been, I was nae so far left to myself, to beguiltyofonysic extravagance— Me hu-e ftwhole coach l-Ah i Charlie, Chariie, I waun ca' mair canny ; and ye ken I never had oiiy turn for g^A. tiKty Ukeyou. ^ut ye maun now shew me the ^ay toXincohi's Inn, whar I'm gaun to learn the law.*"- • - ■^'•■'■y . :• .. , ^ 'irj^^'oni Charles, deKghted as he was to see his did and • queer school-fellow, did not much rehsh the idea of walking with so singulai- figure hi the streets ; ac- cordingly, whentheyreached the first stand, he Crfled a coach ; but, Wore steppng in, Andrew said, « Now, mind Charlie, yeVe to pay fo?^ a\ rn no be a single bawbee; for I hde laid it down' . ' i!i r v. f Ayrshire prcrverb. lOXUOX. m l.vT as a rule no to waste a plack on ony sort of plea- sure.'' " ^^"' '«'"' aevef wind that; 111 settle for the coach this time," »id Charier, « and «, jump ^ . When they were seated, Pierston gathered from ,?1W iW; acpount.of biaJiopes 4ind prospects, and ,iie was irresistibly tempted to play him an initia- .^ly prank; accordingly, when the coach reachod jJiedoorofMrVellum'schamber,,heleapedbrisk. ly out, and sUppin^ the fare into the coachman^s h»n<},, w^^4 1,^ ^ gg^ ^U j^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^ l*e oti,pr gen^eman. The coachman was rogue enou^ for hia own interest to enter into the frp. Mr and Charles hurrying away, pretending he was^res^% tim^a^d^Jii, flight calling ha(* ^ Andrew that he ^ould see him sot^ again, left him m the paT^rpfithe coftchman, f : Two shilKngs, yqujc ]Kmour,%aid the ^llow, when he had assisted Andrew to alight, " What^« th^t for? I>id^a ^e ithJr kd p^ you ? It was him that hired you^ye needna look to me for ony pi^ment.^ There was a degree of treroour and indepjiion 92 CHAPTER XII. .Ii- 1,. 'Si ■Si in the manner in which this answer was given, that encouraged the coachman to enforce his de- mapd more resolutely, and he repeated it. "I tell you, man, that it's no me yeVe to apply to— What the deevil, if a frien' hire a chaise, and gie me a hurl, am I to pay the hire .?~I never heard o' sic extortion — go awa' wi' you. man,"" Jehu had some relish of humour himself, and played still farther with the apprehennions of our hero, saym^, he should pay for his friend, and settle it afterwards with him. " It's ill getting a breek aff a Highlanman— Get twa shillings frae that flea-luggit rinnagate Charlie Pierston, who had ne'er a doit that didna burn a hole in his pouch !-~I ken him o'er weel, to let his score gang to my lawin.-— No, my lad, it's of no use to argol bargol wi' me. I'll no be bow wow't out of my shillings ony hoo ! and as I said before, ye maun just gang your ways, for scot nor lot will I pay you, or the like o' you, if I should be damn'd for't, which is a mickle word for me to say ;'* and with that he walked briskly up the steps that led to Mr V-allum's chambers; while the coachman mounted his box. roaring with LONDON. 93 laughter, like the MiU-Ude at Kil„i„ning.brig m a speat, as Andrew after ards told Pierston. y Mr VeUum was an able, acute, „d intelligent man of business, iu the prime of life, active, L. Jem«Jy. and decisive. The momem that hefast his eye on our hero, he perceived he was an oriri. nal, nor d.d he like him the less for his uncouTh «flP«.rance. His knowledge of the world had i„. d«ed_ taught m, that, ia all the secondarv ^ labonous departments of business, such characters areof the most invriuable description; and in consequence, much to the amazement of several spruce young fellows, who .^ c,,i„g e„„,»mp. uous glances aside on the stranger, as they pli^ then- mmble quills. h,,e«eived him with unusual cordiality. .. ,. j. ..,,., . Veiium, .for .t is now term time, and I doubt not you wiU soon make yourself useful." " I'U no faU in the endeavour," replied aI'. drew;..butifJdin„aa.fi„.eomeuptoyour expectatmn, ye maun just bear wi' mo tiU my Jian s sooplet at the wart '' -^ j 94 CHAPTER \I I. " I shall be satisfied with your endeavour, and you may now take your place at the desk."^ " No the day, sir,'' said Andrew ; " for I hae tint sic a time by losing mysel in coming from Mr Ipsey's, that I maun look after the bit pack wi' my claes before dark. Ill be wi' you, how- ever, by break o^ day the mom's morning."" Mr Vellum acquiesced, and Andrew, invigora- ted by the satisfactory reception he had met with, and perli^s unconsciously also by the little expe- rience he had gleaned in his adventure with Pier- ston, then proceeded with confidence to the house of a Mrs Callender, whom Mrs Ipsey had recom- mended to him for lodgings. It was situated in a small court, off one of the streets, in the vicinity of Red Lion Square, and in the neatness of all its appearance, justified the character which he had received of the landlady. In consequence of coming from Mrs Ipsey, Andrew was she>vn the first floor ; but when in- formed that the rent was a guinea a-week, he turned up his eyes, and gaafped as if a load was on his heart. At last he was enabled to articu- tONDON. 9$ l«te, '• \ e-11 hae ither room, !" ,„d being an. «wered in the affirmatire, was conducted up stair, where a bargain wa« eonduded for an attic, at th^ rate of four shiUi,«» and sixpence per week. But we must not undertake to describe the details of hm household arrangements; ,e shall, ,herefo,« pass over the conversation which took place at thi bargam-making, with simply remarking, that al, though Andrew thought Mrs CaUender « dread, fu' dear" in the rent of her room, yet he was much sausiied with her orderly house and motherly ap. l««rance ; and with aU expedient haste proceed^ to t],e wharf to get his luggage brought home. 1 Ins, however, involved difficulties which he had not anticipated. He guessed from tlie length of the way, which d.d not seem abridged by the necessity he was under of inquiring, at evety turn, for « the road to Wapping," that the expenc« of porterage for »« trunk would be considerable, and he made up Ins mmd to go the whole extent of a shillimr But on reaching the wharf, to his inexpr^sibfe astonishment, no man could be found who would undertake the task for less than five shillings, the 96 CH.\PTER XI r. s'. ■' I i very mehtion of M^hich brought at once an inters jectlon from the innermost chambers of his soul; and a cold sweat on his brows. The steward of the vessel advised him to take a coach ; but this was a suggestion of prodigaUty still more insur- mountable; so that, seeing no other likely ^ay of getting the trunk carried, he manfully resolved to bear it on his own shoulders. '^ "- . By this time it was ahnost dark, and there Wa^ some risk that the landmarks, which Ire had ob- served to guide his way, would be scon obscured from his view, if he did not make haste. Having therefore shifted his coat and waistcoat, for the old ones which he had worn in the passage, he got the trunk on his back, and bravely set forward from Miller's wharf to find his way to Holbom, knowing that if he was once there, he would soon discover the road to Mrs Callender's. But ta carry a well-packed trunk through the crowded streets of London, was no easy task to a stranger t and long before he reached the Royal Exchange, ihe shades of darkness had deepened over-head, and the lights and lamps around hrai shone forth in all their wonted nightly splendour. Still, how- 11 LONDON. 97 ever, with indefarigable peiMverwce, winding hia toJaome way along, he at length, aiter many halt,, re«:hed St Sepulchre's church, where he pheed the trunk on the wdl of the church-yard, «,d rest- ed to breathe and to wipe his forehead. He had noi travelled »o burdened unnoticed • « g«mg of street-robber. e«-ly marked him for their prey, and dogged hhn Uke Hoodjjounds in the track of their game -, but Ws wariness had pre- vented an attack, tiU diey saw him at rest. One of those freebooters, » BttJe in advance be fore the others, passed him a few p«»,, ^ gi^„_ a loud shriek, fell down on the pavement, seem! wgly m convulsions. In the Srst impulse of the moment, Andrew, as the tWeve. h«l ealenlated started forward to his assistance ; but fortunately • m doing so, his trunk feU from the railing. The jeopardy in whiA he saw that H was immedmtdy M, by the comp«uons of the impostoi' run. mng towards it, checked Ws hunanily, and he clung to it with thefondanxiety of .mother over h« darhng in da.^. The thieve, cursed his inhumanity, and the man in convulsions instantly VOL. I. S '•fii t. li 98. CHAPTER XJI. recovering, rose, and walked away with m alacri-^ ty which at once astonished and alanned, qui fldrj venturer, who requirecl no farther testimony i|>- speoting the character of the partie9».^ftij,4^)yj^ f^mijb Saving only in this incident, he reached th^i house of Mrs Callend?r unmolested ; and pothi^g could exceed the laud and admiration of thM woif^;,, thy dam^, when she heard what he had acconw^ pUshed, and the pareaenae of mind with which he had preserved his trunk from the PhiUe^ne^^ i^*tf>1, « I'm anre,** said she, " Mr Wylie, that y©u, , must stand in need of your tea. Do sitdQwn, anA, in the parlour TU get it ready, with ^.nitjePomTiftj fortahle hit of toastr ms •»ni^ v "<; ifM « I would like that unco weel,- replied An?^. drew ; "but it!s :daintie8 I roauna think.©'. „j^ IHthaid: yon to get me a mutchkin of atjrong yHl and a cooky* whic^iwJBJ ^^ :«WYJ me. f9%, fourhonra and supper^'' ^^ ^4^ t^^. <^*. )^ t' ^ )^ 'i^ Mrs Callender: dedarefl, thfl* # did jiot ■\0rf, lieve any such things, could be had m Londopt , But shecouHgethhn.a slice of ham anda]pi»t of-portei^ n *«i„.r ,;>f: •*;4^^;?T ««il h.\ti J'i^v'.HtxY'^' ha The woman's deleerifei!:j^I«^edAji%?^fv <( dntAin^ a Whftle pinto" ported?* • P^^emly, howev^, ,^„necti„g that th^e^wiV some difference between the Scotch and EneBsh measure he inquired the expcnce ; and having saved the porterage of his luggage, he «3opte! her suggestion as to the porter, but he would Ld to no such seduction as the ham. Having recruited his strength in Mrs CaUen- der s parlor, he proposed going to bed, as he was much fred. « But," said he, « I „eed„a be lay- ing n, ony stores tiU I see about me in the morr,. .ng; »°"«"ginyehaco„ysicthingasac.ndle- d.n.p aboot the house. Til be obliged if ye'U lend me t the night. This request needed some explanation. In the end however, a mutual understanding took place on h sub,e« ; but without materially tending to exalt the chara^er for Kberality of our hero in the HaWng ,.ti«d for the night to his chamber, and extinguished the light, he knelt down at the ■-'-de. But the hupes, the wishes; »d the ^ iH 100 CHAPTER XII. xieties, which the yov 5 adventurer communicates to Heaven in such » time, belong to a more holy strain of feeling than we may here venture to un- fold. I -.1 i ill i I ! i >^■A L ■,.J\ .'ir-i .J I • . «» %iii •'ii*-jO*..Ai'r3fi FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 101 CHAPTER XIII. FIRST IMPRESSIONS. Mr Vellum had for clients several persons of high rank, and, among others, the Earl of San- dyford. His Lordship was still on the gay side of thirty,and justly considewdone of the most elegant men of the age ; but from the date of his marriage with Lady Augusta Spangle, the daughter of the Marquis of Aberside, he had disappointed the ex- Pectations of his friends. Instead of taking that splendid part in the deKberations of the kingdom, for which he seemed naturaUy, by his animated temi)erament and lofty eloquence, peculiarly qua- Iified, he suddenly rushed into the whirlpool of fashionable dissipation, and squandered his estate and talents with a vehemence that not only surpri- 102 CHAP.TEH.Xm. ¥ lif ^i;iit I!mI sed, but alanned, while it mortified his friends and admirers ; for it appeared to be the result of some wild, yet voluntary resolution, as if he sought, by the velocity of a headlong career, to escape the miseries of some mysterious sorrow. When his Lordship first entered the arena of fashion, he was strikingly handsome, and the ex- pression of his countenance, wJiich was nobly in- telligent; indicated great elevation of sentiment, tinctured with an urbanity^full of playfiijness and good humour ; but, at the period of which ^(tft.we now speaking? he was beeome pale and slende*, da elegant listlessness pervaded his whole Irame, and his voice, which was natuJraUy clear, and finely modulated, had dwindled into an habitual mono- tonous simper, sui|E»ble indeed to the small topics *lie affected to discwis, but wjiach ^^ evidently cared ,»s little about as ho did ffor any thing else. Occa- isionaliyj however, his true ohapacter would shine .©ut, and shew that this foppery was hut assumed, ^and that he might still be roused to better things, ^^d st^d f<»rth ill the erect superiority dT a ge- Jiius, conscious of its innate strength, and ready, HI FIR&T IMPttESglO^S. 103 'wfcen sufficient cause requiTed, to manirest its in- calculable power. ;7Ht"«i]^» 5 f;: >' About «he time that our hero arrived in Lon- don, it'had been remarked, that the Earl went less into coHqpiiny than formerly, and that he some- -times spent the morning m the House of Lords, yawning, 4t is true, to the tuneless eloquence and metajAyacal distinctions of some litigious advo- tatc from the north, addressing, with equd effect, the ChanceUor and the woolsacks, and no , less delighting the attendant solicitors, than the fa- ded worthies of Elizabeth's reign in the tapestry, •who, in appeal cases, are commonly all the spec tators. Once in the evening, when he happened, in the course of that spring, to obey a summons of the Heuse, on an important political question, he >iw so far e^fdted by the conflict of debaW, that he actually made a speech of three sentences, » judicious and weU expressed, that it tingled in the ears of the most experienced senators with the thriU of a new sensation, and was hailed as the symptom of a redeeming spirit, that might in time convertfem from those pursuits which had equally injured his health, his fortune, and his ^jharacter. 104 CHAPTEE XIII. - Some time after this, his Lordship had occadlon to confer with Mr Vellum, and it happened, when he called at his chambers, that our hero was the only person within. A brief colloquy, in conse- quence, took place at the door, which had the ef- fect of interesting his Lordship's curiosity ; inso- much, that partly with the intention of resting a few minutes, perhaps more, however, with the de- sign of extracting a little amusement, he was in- duced to walk into the office, and take a seat on one of the elevated stoob at the dei*. Andrew had no conception of the rank of the visitor ; and as he was not altogether satisfied with this free- dom, he stood warily holding the inner door open, as an intimation to his Lordship that he ought not to remain ; but the oddity of his appearance, and the sly suspicion of his looks, with the simplicity of his manners, diverted the peer, who, after in- specting him through a quizzing glass from head to foot, said, with an alfectation of fashionable in- anity, swingiug his feet at the same time, " These stools of your's, young man, are very tall.'' " Ay," replied Andrew, " they're gay and heigh." The assumed indifference of the Earl was almost * I' FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 105 discoraposed by the flatness of this ansH^er ; ind pulling out his handkerchief to hide the eff^ect, said, at the same time, « Pray, fHend, where were you caught?'' * r . " Sir, I never was catched," was the indignant answer. ' ' ■ ' - . " Indeed !" said his Lordship, « how then came you to London p'' " Hoo shou'd I come ?" ^" A very satisfactory answer, j must confess," tejomed the Earl ; « and I have no doubtyou had a great deal of pleasure in your travels T ^ ' "Ah, trouth !" quoth our hero, « if the hock- ing the soul out o' the body be ony pleasure; I had enough o' that pleasure! Gude forgie me, but I was amaist tempted to mak awa' wi' mysel' Eh ! I thought if I could hae dee't, it would hae been a satisfaction. Na, na, sir, I would W ad. vise my sworn enemy to come in a ship by sea frae Scotland." The Earl, still presen^ng all due seriousness; said, « May I presume to inquire if you are a lawyer?" . r Eg If- 106 CHAFFER XHI. p, I M I li « I'm kttfning,* replied Andrew, modestly. « A very- judicious anawCT^ was the ironical observation of his Lordship ; " and ho> long may you have been in the profession ?^ « Before coming here, I was weel on to three years with John Gledd, the messenger, and I hae been three days wi' Mr Vellum.'' " It is an honourable profession, and I doubt not you will become a distinguished ornament to It — ^in time," said his Lordship drily. « I'm thinking it's a gay an kittle trade though i but rU ettle my best," -eplied Andrew, none di». concerted. *< But," resumed the Earl, " what do you thkA of London?" ^ « Poo !" cried the clerk; " London ! a wl^ brick bouses. O, man, if ye could but see G\m cpw i^ Ec^burgh — ^there you would see som^ ^hing— look at Holyrood-House, that's a pekKje for you — ^but St James's here, it's just like an auld to'booth. But, sir, ye'U hae to gae awa', for its ^e 4ime for me to gang for my dinner, that I may be back to keep the house — and I hae a TosMm your business is no very particular the day." riKST IMPBEflJSIONS.. ^m enotber day ; but wher« do you dine r T/*^ At a very cmlitable house, «r; the Cafedci. man, in a neighbour atreet'' ^»AM h^ mud, „,y y„„ p,y^ inquired 1« I«d«h,p, with uuai&cted , though I was to die on the spot. But O, sir, real- ly Fm growing uneasy ; for if I dinna get my diiw ner noo, thae deevils, our clerks, will be back ,' and j£ they fin' out that I'm toom, the/11 fish to far. mish me. It would therefore, sir, be very obli- ging, if y# hae done your pleasure and needs, to gae quietly awa% and let me rin for my bit .ehJick Q: dinner^ n:yi»|te^l' * , The good humour of the Earl, perhaps we ot^ht to;«dd his habitual politeness, could not withstand tjjje ijBiterated urgency of this appeal, and he a^ coedingly withdrew, reneving his injunctionp fot the ,ctreful delivery of the letter. But this wde jumeeessary ; Andrew was fully impressed with the importance of letters addressed by chents to tl^ solicitors, and well aware that his future stwcess u^ life depended quite as much on his integrity as H^pon any other quality. ' ... ■ ' ' >r A MASi^UEIiA©^,:. '■^ 3(:U I -I, in -' f N » fill! .v{ ■ iJiv'r- <• J 1' ^ r ► -i- . ^ ■ CHAPTER XIV. A MASnoinpa.,ing. A«h«r instantly ,eeogni»d » vo«»^th«t he h«l ,he«d befo», and waspctri- •fcetL^ It was the Earl, at whose appearance Ser. vmal nnmediately withdrew, telling our he,« th« *e w~. now free to go everywhere, and pick up What amusement he could for the remainder of the evening. ". Notwithstanding aU the freedom which tlie be: i>cf that he was in a pW of puHic amu«.ment T '•l^l'ted to inspire, Andrew shyly entered the central ealoon, from which the drawing-room, opened. A party in made, with the Earl at their **■' ,^"'"«* '■™- H* thought, however, they were the piayer»-the hirelings of the entertain: i. ■ I '1 ii 1 J hi ; I if! . '!■ 116 CHAPTER XIV. hient, and expected thiem to tumMe, and perfoMti' other antic feats of corporeal ingenuity. -.* While under this misconception of his situa- tion, jurt ^thin the door of the saloon, with his back leaning on tike pedestal of a statue of Tef- psichorej the well-fleshed Countess of Gorbiland^, in the character of liady Rodolpha Lumbercourl, came up to hiiti. Her ladyship had not the most remote idea that he was not in character. Being herself a Scotchwoman, she imagined, from his dress, that he had taken the part of a Scottish lad, and addressed him accordingly, imitating the rattle of Lady Rodolpha with considerable hu- mour. Andrew, however, was disconcerted by what he erjured wretch cast me off from his tender embraces in the face of the whole worldr^-Afld she began to we^p bitterly, wiping her eyes with the comer of her tattered shawl, and taking a sip from her bottle with infinite humour. « The woman's fou,'' said Andrew coolly to the bystanders, and walked away somewhat anxiously to shun her. " See how he deserts me,'' cried the obgtrepe. 3 I" Li. : I I •i i; I 111 I '1' 4 i 118 CirAi»TiER XI^. rous Moll ; « he abandons me like the refet of liis faMess sex, thkf ctttiA gky det^tf i'^ »-*»* rX'^*r^ Andrew, terrified by the vehemence of Moll's * manner, turned ba6k td remyii with hW, aitd said, '* Honest womim^ yeVe in a mistake." ^^Sri »#i^.' The imaiEJeted simphcity at this^ address Was ' too muehwenfor Goleson, with all his coilfidfeftce;'^ and regardless of the propwetieg of his part, !ie ' joined m the general laughter that it called forth^ from all presMit Poor Andrew tHeil appealed to the spectators; ''* afid assured them, idth the most perfect sincerity; ^! that he had never seen the woman before, smce'^^ hfe was bom. « She's just a randy," said he, "and ought to be set in the jougs.'' " What's the matter— wKat's the' to' do here?'* ' cried a Justice Woodcock. « What are ye' after ? Trampj madarti; andasfcjryoujsirjtakfe'yoursclf*' Andrew would have walked W^%6n1ted;^btit' 3Vf<^ took hold of the seeftiing magistrate hy the co«t-tailj excltoiihing,- « Is this a pt(tpet treatment of the fair sex, Justice Woodcock ? I thought you had been a better man in your day, than to A 5IA8QUEIIADE; 119r pes^ was gee a pow innocent, girl, thathadnothinglbutfier, virtue, so wronged by:suoh a< cruel, a perfidious,: • base and wicked wicked man/' '^tf Poor Mo% i and what has he done to you T ; said the Justice. . *^- What has he done !" exclaimed MoUy, start, ingirom out her tears. « He has undone me." Andrew was thunderstruck, and looked around: in despair, but saw na friendly visage; in ther same moment Mofl clasped him m her arms, and; pulling out his watch, cried, « This at least wiU ) procure me some comfort."— And in puttmg the watch into her pocket, she took out her bottle, and indulged in another sip. " Softly, Moll," said Justice Woodcock, « you must give me the watch." ** Oh I" cried Andrew, in a long and vibrating tone of horror; but suddenly mustering courage, ' he exclaimed, « As sure as death, sir, this is^'aa' : big a lie as ever Cluty hunsel cleckit. Only send for my master, Mr Vellum, and he^U testificate, that I am a poor honest lad, of creditable parent- age, just come frae Scotland.— O, what had I to IS if f « . iii. \i., ti 120 CflAFTER XIV. do here ! Gie me my watch, I tell you— gie me my watch— thieves, thieves !"' The earnest vigour of hmgs with which he ut- tered this exclamation resounded through all the ^lendid chambers, and the whole music and mer- riment was in a moment silenced by the alarm. Andrew in the same instant snatched the watch from Moll, who was then in the act of handing it to the Justice, and flying o^amidst a universal ca- taract of laughter, never looked behind till he was out of breath, and safe in the street. ;:i .1 1 i i AN INVITATION, 121 J i CHAPTER XV. AN INVITATION. JIastening home to his lodgings with the ex^ iJedition of a delinquent flying from justice, An, drew was undressed, and over head and ears among the bedclothes, before he made any attempt to ral- ly his scattered senses. In this situation he soon became more composed, and began to think that he had perhaps been subjected to the influence of some delusion. He had heard of Johnny Fa and Lord Cassillis' Lady, and of mountebanks casting glamour in the eyes of their spectators, by which Wue-bottle flies, with pins at their t^ils, are made to appear in the shape of game-cocks, drawing logs of timber ; and he was not sure but that some such slight of magic had been practised by the players on himself vox.. L _ "KT "^ 122 CHAPTER XV. li| This first effort of retun^ing reason, as his agi- tation subsided, was succeeded by a still more ra- tional conclusion, no less than that really he did not know where he had been, and therefore it would be as well for him to say nothing of his adventuie next morning to the other clerks in the office ; and with this prudent determination, he said his pray- ers and fell asleep. But although he had resolved to be silent, he could not divestliimself of a certain indescribable feeling of anxiety and apprehension when he went to the desk in the morning. He gat down without saying a word, and wrote on with more than \m wonted assiduity, while his companions were re- counting to each other their exploits and gallan- tries, and strong ale debaucheries at the Coal-hole and Finish, atter the play. When Mr Vellum entered the office, the sound of his tread was echoed by the beating of Andrew's heart ; and a sensation of fear, almost as painful as the teiTors of suspected guilt, took possession of our hero's whole mind, as that gentleman said to him dryly, " Well, Wylie, did you see Mr Ser- vinal last night ?" ■J •J I AN INVITATION. 123 " A genteel man answered to his name,'' re- plied Andrew, « and I gave him the letter/' " Had you any conversation with him ?"" inqui- red the Solicitor, amused at the dexterity of An- drew's evasion, and interested by his evident em- barrassment. *' A great deal," said our h^ briskly ; and then lie faithfoUy recounted the whole of what he con- ceived to be the business part of the conversation. Vellum commended his attention and memory, and added, « Did you stop long with him ?" " We were not a great while thegither," re- phed Andrew with a sigh. ** I .^t >pe he did not detain you long; for I do not c i ose that my young men should keep late hours." " It will be my endeavour to satisfy you, sir, in that particular, for I'm no fond of late hours my- sel ; they are very bad things," said our hero, mo- rally. " Yes," replied his master ; " and London is so full of temptations to youth and inexperience." *' It's an awful place," was the emphatic an- swei\ ii ^ ^ ' 'M ■ 124 CHAPTER XV. ^ " But you got safe homey after parting from the gentleman,''' said Mr Vellum. . " Ay,*" replied Andrew with a nod, its If he siwke inwardly ; " ay, I got safe home.'' The Solicitor could, with difficulty, keep his gravity ; but after a momentary pause, he looked sharply at our hero, and then, in a jocular tone, said, " I suspect, WyUe, you were engaged in some adventmre last night." " I fancy every body may meet wi' as meikle, and do nae wrang either,"" was the answer to this home question. " Then you did meet with something .^" said his master. *' I canna, without a lie, say I met wi' nae- thing." *' But what was it .'*" inquired the Solicitor, with an affected tone of impatience. • " I'm sure, sir, that's no an easy question to an- swer ; for ye ken I'm but a new come stranger in London, and a's no ill that's ill like." " Then I presume that what you met with was something you thought strange .'"' \yi I AN INVITATION. 125 " I dare say/' replied Andrew, » it may no be strange here.? " It is very extraordinary that you refuse to tell me what it was." " ^^^ "^^««' sir!" exclaimed Andrew; " Tm sure I never refused." " Then why don't you satisfy me ?" < " It^^ baith my earnest wish and interest, sir, to gie you the fiiUest satisfaction in my power " re plied our hero ; and he looked at his master'with such an air of simplicity, that VeUum was utterly at a loss whether to set him down as a knave or a tool. At this moment one of Lord Sandyford^s servants entered, with a card from his Lordship Requesting Mr WyKe's company to dinner that day. Andrew was petrified~he grew as pale as ashes, and trembled from head to foot, totally i„, capable of comprehending the mystery of this de, vice. Vellum smiled, and said, « I hope you are not engaged, and that you can oblige his Lord, ship." ** O, am sure," cried our hero, panting, " m do ony thing in the world to oblige my Lord." : iH' .*:b f having »rl ; and he was shrewd enough to guess that it could nei- ther be on account of his learning, his rank, nor the fashion of his appearance. The invitation which Andrew had received from the Earl was soon known among the other clerks, and their first notion led them to fancy that he was related to his Lordship ; they began, in conse- (juence, to think he was not, after all, the mean sort of half-witted creature which they had hitherto thought him, but an eccentric and original cha- racter. This idea received something like con- firmation, when one of them, inquiring in what de- gree of relationship he stood with the Earl, An- drew dryly replied, « Really I canna say, but I beheve weVe sprung of the same stock."— Some of the more knowing, however, began to suspect that it possibly might be on account of his odd and sin- gular appearance ; and that his Lordship, in con- ferring the honour of the invitation, slyly intend- ed to amuse his own friends, by showing off the curiosity ;— a shrewd suspicion, characteristic of that precocious knowledge of the world, which is one of the chief, if not the very chief itself, of all ^^B fli 1^. M m 128 CHAPTER XV, tlie peculiarities of the metropolitan youth, espe- cially of that sharp and pert tribe of them, who, like the imps that infest the road leading to Para« disc, chatter, frisk, and flutter in the avenues to the tribunals of justice. M ■|l v. ' »! A DINNEE PARTY. 129 CHAPTEli XVI. A DINNER PARTY. Andrew having provided himself with the ad- tlress of Sandyford-House, was at the door as punctually as the clock went the hour. The knocker, at that moment, seemed to him too pon- derous for his hands to raise, and after pausing for about hattla^minute to recover courage, he tapped with his knuckle, to announce his claim for admission. The porter, a saucy : .^julent; fellow, opened, and demanded what he wanted. " I am come to get my dinner with my Lord," was the reply. The comer of John Swell's lips crooked of their own accord downward, into an ex- pression of ineffable contempt and exclusion, when, fortunately, the footman who had carried thp in- vitation to Vellum's, happened to come into the f2 '11 ?i 'M S 130 CHAPTEE XVI. hall, and, recognizing our hero, conducted him up stairs to the drawing-room, where the other guests, with the Earl and Countess, were waiting, m ex- pectation of his approach. Andrew was agitated and confused ; but, in as- cending the stairs, he recovered sufficient presence of mind to enable him to observe that the liouse was the same, which, on the preceding night, he had believed was one of the theatres ; and the idea suddenly flashed upon him, that he owed the ho- nour of the invitation to the simplicity of his Scot* tish manners and appearance. The servant who shewed him the way, had observed his confusion, and when Andrew paused, as this notion came across his mind, he conceived him to be over- whelmed with diffidence, and stopped also, with a sneer, being aware of the motives which had indu- ced his master to invite him to dinner. But a mo- ment's reflection set all things right with our hero, and he seemed, to the saucy valet, to undergo a marvellous transmutation, from an awkward vul- gar boy, into an easy and confident gentleman. He advanced towards the door of the drawing- room with as light a step, and as cheerful a coun- A DINNER PAIITY, 13: tenance, as he ever approached the cottage of his school-master with the chat and jokes of the vil- lage, and was ushered into the splendid company without feeling the slightest embarrassment ; on the contrary, he went forward in that agreeable state of self-possession, which a man feels when he knows it is in his power t , dispense pleasure. Lord Sandyford, who possessed an acute percep. tion of the latent powers of character, perceived, by the change, on the instant he threw his eyes on him as the door opened, that he was not the entire simple oddity which he had at first imagined, and immediately went towards him, and shook him by the hand, iii a manner that raised him at once, as it were, into the equality and footing of a friend. " Mr WyJie,- said his Lordship, " I ought to apologise for the freedom which I have taken with you." " Say nae mair about it, my Lord," interrupt- ed Andrew ; « I maun pay fof my experience of the world as weel as my betters ; but it was an aw- fu' thing though." This simple reply was received as original hu- r ■ill 129. . CHAPTEE XVI. mour, and much amused the high-bred assem- blage, both by its gusto and familiarity. Sir Ti- mothy Knicketty, the connoisseur, who was of the party, declared it was truly a la Tenien. When they had descended to the dining-room, the ladies were particularly anxious to share our hero among them ; but he put an end to th^ con- troversy, by taking the seat of honour between the Duchess of Dashingwell and the Countess, who, independent of their rank, were the tw o ti- iiest women in the room. Her grace was a blithe, open-tempered character, that could carry a joke as great a length as any lady of her class. During dinner, nothing for some time particu- larly occurred. Andrew, with a quick and cun- ning eye, observed the etiquettes of the table, as they were performed by others, and acquitted himself without committing any extraordinary breach of the wonted ceremonials ; in this re- spect, he was indeed superior to many a scion of nobility, from Eton or Oxford. The Duchess of D. led him on in conversation, and he said a num- ber of droll and naif things, which were received ^s bon mots of the most racy flavour. Peals of i 4h i '■ -^ A DINNER PARTY. 133 laughter bore tetimony to all the house with what success he sustained his character, and as the wme mounted his confidence rose. Before the end of the secondcourse he was in high glee, and perfectly at his ease ; insomuch, that the very ser- vants in attendance could with difficulty maintain the requisite tacifim decorum of their office. But all restraint of duty, place, and circumstance, were m the end overwhelmed, when, in reply to an in- vitatwn from her Grace, to take wine with her he exclaimed, " Na, leddies, if ye gar me drink at this rate, the wine will be running in my head, and I'll be kittHng you till ye keokle or a's done ; so look to the consequences." Lord Sandyford enjoyed, the scene with a re. lish to which he had long been a stranger ; but the Countess was the least affected of the whole party by the simplicity or the art of Andrew. Her Ladyship, however, maintained throughout the evemng a gracefid propriety, that admirably be, came her station. She seldom condescended to laugh ; still, at times, a pleasant, ringing, cheerful sound came from her heart, that shewed «he could ™joy the pleasantries of life as jocundly as her 11 rfttj .4' 1^ 1 I' "' If ! ;i . I ,l!i ■'.k 1 ¥ i • ii='l 1 "1 i ' i if 134 CHAPTER XVI, neighbours. On these occasions, her lord would look at her, as if startled by some unexpected note of pleasure, but in a moment her hilarity was sup-k pressed, and she was as cold and formal as before. The evening^s entertainment had, however, ge- nerally the effect of inspiring the Ear! with a grateful feeUng towards Andrew ; for it is one of the blessed consequences of hearty laughter, to stir into action all the kindly humours of the mind ; and his Lordship determined to have hira for his frequent guest. The rest of the company, particularly the Duchess of D., was scarcely less delighted with his eccentricities ; and when, after returning to the drawing-room, she persuaded him to sing, he fairly won her heart, and was chosen a regular invitant to all her parties for the winter. Indeed, to do him justice, in the choice of his song he displayed equal taste and judgment, and the execution was worthy of the choice. His song was that ludicrous enumeration of goods and chattels, beginning with " My father wi' his dee- ing breath," in the performance of which, flushed with the Tuscan, he addressed himself so eagerly to her Grace, snapping his fingers with exulta- i!ii A DINNER VaIITY. 13a tion, and nodding and winking, that she was ob- hgee. to throw herself on a sofa, holding both her sides, exclaiming, " For the love of Heaven, stop him— «top him, or I shall die !'' The sagacity with which Andrew had thus im- proved the first impression of his pecuHarities, taught him instinctively to choose that happy mo. ment for taking leave, when the effect he had pro. duced was liveliest. At the end of his song he accordingly sprang away, as if he had suddenly recollected himself, crying, « Megsty me, what am I about, daffing till this time here, when I hae got a codicil to copy to a dying man's last will and testament r And with that, giving a ludicrous nod for a bow, he ran down stairs, and hastened home. ^ a # 4V\ U r.': 136 CHAPTER XVII. CHAPTER XVI BORROWING. li J '■- I.! - The first winter thus passed with our liero in a manner that most young men would have deemed enviable, and thetpmdent regarded as fraught with danger to his futui fortune ; but his simpUcity remained invincible to the blandishments of plea^ sure, and the sterling. worth, of his innate charac- ter raised him more and more in the estimation of Lord Sahdyford. One morning, on going to chambers, he found Mr Vellum thoughtfol and vexed. He had been, on the preceding evening, engaged with money-lenders, relative to an additional mort- gage, which was immediately required for the Earl, and the negociation had not been satisfac- tory. The money was obtained; but on such terms, that he was almost afraid to communicate them to his Lordship, — not that he had any rea- BOBItOWING. 137 son, from his experience of the Earl's disposition and temper, to apprehend that his Lordship would trouble himself for a moment on the subject; but he felt as a man of business, that he had not been so happy in his management as on other similar occasions. After sitting some time, turning over the me- moranda of the transaction, and casting about in his thoughts for what he should say to the Earl, he happened to look towards the desk where An- drew was earnestly employed at his vocation, hie httle round smooth-hair'd head foUowing his pen as rf n was slowly rolKng on the paper ; and it occurred to hun, that perhaps no fitter envoy could be employed in the business than the droll and uncouth oddity before him. From what had al- ready taken place between him and the Earl, the humour and peculiarities of Andrew seemed likely to render the communication less disagreeable to h.s Lordship, than his own dry and regular me- thod ofexplaining the circumstances, and he sum. moned him at once from the desk. ''You must go,. Wylie," said he, « to Lord Sandy&rd with ,h«se pajwrs. They contain, some k ^ ft r f M i.'.iii f fi 138 CHAPTER XVII. matters respecting the loan of twenty thousand poundis that I have procured for his Lordship/' " Twenty thousand pounds l^—barro't money !'' exclaimed Andrew*. But his master^ without no- ticing the exclamation^ continued-*-*** And you will tell him, that it really could not be obtained on better tearms ; that, in fact, at present every thing in the dty is drained by an instalment of the govemanent loan; and money can only be raised with the utmost difEcul^, and on terms X am almost ashamed to ftate*^ " I wish— I wish,'' said Andrew, " that my Lord may haud thegither twenty thousand pounds a' at ance ; and wasting baith at heck and manger, wr bardic leddies and whirligig fool-fellows at yon gait;'. Vellum was folding up the papers while our hero made this observation ; and a little relieved from his anxiety by having selected him for his minister, said jocularly, "You may as well give his Lordship a word of advice on the subject, Wylie, if you find him in the humour." " Atweel I'U no ^dge to do that," replied Andrew seriously ; " for he's a fine man, and his :^!.ii K-- . iJOEROWING. 139 leddy a most discreet woman— only a wee thought o^er miickle ta'en up wi' hersel. It's a pity that my Lord and het dinna draw thither so weel as could be wished." Velluin was startled by this remark, and look- ing earnestly and inquisitively at Andrew, saidi " Have you heard anything about them ?" " Me hear about them .'—What could I hear about them ? I ken nobody that's acquaint wH ony o' them save yoursel ; but I have twa holes in my head, and asr many windows, and I can hearken at the ane, and keek out at the ither, and learn what's gaun on m the warld, just as weel as ither folk.— My Leddy, Mr Veflum, is mair weel bred in the parley-voo style to her gudeman, than a kindly wife should be, and my Lord fashes at her formality." " You are a strange creature, or I am mis- taken," said Vellum , as he handed him the papers ; " and I hope you vrill not blunder in this busi- ness." Andrew, as he received them, assured his mas* tei-, that he might depend he would do his best endeavours both ta give hhn and the Earl satis^ r i I , ir 1 ■ ' f 140 CHAPTER XVII. faction ; and, taking his hat, hastened to Sandy- ford-house, where he was immediately admittee in; but, as Burns says to the de'il, < would ye tak a thought and men',' for really, my Lord, I'm wae for you— a man o' your degree can neither work nor want, and what will become o' you when a's gane to a'.? I'U teD you what it is, iny Lord, before I would be hinging ae millstone about my neck after anither in this gait, I would take a rung, and thrash every ane o' your het and 'i 142 CHAPTEIl XVII. ! M fu' flunkies out o' the house — Devil do me gude o' them— and o' the other clai\jamphrey, that arc eating you out of hoxise and hall, but I would let them ken what twenty thousand pounds are in as many paiks. Sir, my Lord, if ye'U believe me, there was no ae single me, «' a' that fool antic mob of latherons and merry-andrews, devouring the mains more here the ither night wi' their gal- lanting, that would gie your Lordahip a bawbie for auld lang syne, if ye were seeking your meat frae door to door, in a cauld winter's day, wi' the drap at your neb, and the tear in your ee, and ue ae handfu", no even a cauld potatoe, in yow meal-pock.'' " The picture is strong,'' said the Earl empha- tically ; " but it is not without some true portrai- ture. What would you advise me to do ?" *' It would be out of a' bounds o' discretion for me to ad\ise your Lordship," replied our hero. " I'm only speaking o' what I would do mysel ; but then I'm neither a lord nor a married man." " Yes, Wylie, yes ; you are right. The lord «nd the married man are two serious considera- tions," said the Earl, a little pensively. '^m -.^r BonnowrKG. 143 ** Ane of them," cried Andrew briskly, »' is ••bad enough ; but the twa make a case that would puzzle Salomon himsel. Howsomever, sir, my Lord, I can teU you ae thing, and that is, redde the ravelled skein wi' my Leddy, and^iblins baith you and her will can gpare some oVthe cost and eatlay that yeVe at for living furniture, the eat- ing dishes and drinking decanters that o'er often garnish your table.'' The Earl's colour went and came during this speech ; his eyes, at the freedom of the allusion to Lady Sandyford, flashed with indignation, but it was only for a moment Wnen Andrew paused, his countenance was settled, and he said in an easy tone, « You have, I think, Wylie, but a poor opinion of my guests.^ " The folk are weel eneugh ; but as your Lord- ship cares sae littio-^bbut them, I wonder how ye can be feshed wi' sic like.** " How do you know that I care little about them ?^ said the Earl, half amused, but surprised at the remark. *' As the auld sang eings,'' said Andrew, lU CHAPTER XVn. ({ ( Them tliat gant Something want. Sleep, meat, or making o'.' i ■ 1: And yell excuse my freedom, sir, my Lord, but I have seen, mair than once or twice, that your Lordship was no in a vera satisfied situa- tion, notwithstanding the merriment And daffing around you." " How ?" cried theEarl, and bit his lips. " But, Wylie, what makes you suppose that there is what you call a ravelled «keiu between me and Lady Sandyford.^ The jocular tone in which his Lordship utter- ed this sentence, was calculated to throw Andrew oft' his guaid ; but it produced no change in the earnest simplicity with which he was endeavour- ing to fulfil the orders he had received from his master, with respect to recommending economy to the Earl. " I meant no offence,'' replied Andrew respect- fully ; " but I thought the best way for your Lordship to begin to retrench, would be by trying ^Mtt. BORROWING. 145 y Lord, ice, that ed situa- d daiHng 8. "But, re is what md Lady . vi --^-.i. ^ bip utter- r Andrew ige in the ideavour- from his onomy to w respect- for your by trying to do with as little company as possible ; and if my Leddy might be brought to the same way of thinking, it would be a blithe thing for you baith.'^ Andrew paused, for he observed a cloud pass- ing over the EarFs expressive countenance, and a mutual silence for some time ensued ; during which, his Lordship rose and walked towards the window. Our hero also left his chair, and was standing on the floor to make his bow of leave, when the Earl turned round. " Wylie," said his Lordship playfuUy, « can you speak of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon, even unto the hys- sop that springeth out of the wall ?" '. " It's no right o' your Lordship," replied An- drew seriously, « to make a fool o' the Bible by likenmg me to King Solomon, the wisest man that ever was in the world ; so I wish your Lord- ship a vera good morning. But hae ye cny thing to say to Mr Vellum anent the twenty thousand pounds.?" " What can I have to say ?— I wanted the mo- ney— he has got it-«nd I doubt not has made the best bargain in his power ; so take back the pa- pers, and tell him to prepare the deeds." VOL. I. a •4 5<" *r^^') "* t 146 CHAPTER XVri. 'i ill.!' If ■ m 'h ir ■' " Sir, my Lord,*" cried Andrew, petrified, " y^ liae never lookit at the papers.'' The Earl smiled, and stepping towards the ta- l>le, gathered them up and counted them ; he then placed them in Andrew's hands, and said, " I have looked quite as much at them as I wish to do." Andrew shook his head as he received the papers, and for a moment looked compassionately at the Earl. There was something in the motion and the look that produced an electrical vibration at the heart of his Lordship, and as our hero moved towards the door and retired, he followed him with his eye ; and even after the door was closed, still he continued for several minutes to gaze in that direction. . '* I have hitherto lived among machines," said the Earl, in soliloquy, moving from the spot, and throwing himself carelessly on a sofa ; " but this is a human being ; it has brains, in which thought rises naturally as water wells from the ground, the wholesome element of temperance ; it has a heart too ; and in this little discourse has shewn more of man than all the bearded bipeds I have ever met with. What am I to him, that he should take S' s] ]V m tl w tl hi '^uiilh. BOHKOWINfl. i4r such brotherly interest in my desolation ? and how should he know that it is caused by my wife > My wife ..-What wife ._i have no wife ; scarcely »o much of one as Othello had when he had slain the gentle Desdemona." And in saying these words, h>s Lordship rolled his head over toward, the back of the sofa, and covering his face with hi* handkerchief, lay seemingly asleep. 148 CHAPTER XVIII CHAPTER XVIII. AN ACCIDENT. The Earl of Sandyford was an only child. In his fifth year, he had succeeded to the family ho- nours and estates. The Countess, his mother, was one of those kind of respectable ladies, who, at their exit from the stage of life, are declared, in the obituary of the newspapers, to have been of the nature of pearls and precious stones— or- naments to their sex. Her husband bequeathed to her the principal direction of his son's educa- tion. The young Lord was the last of his im- mediate line, and, in the event of dying without issue, the estates and titles devolved on the re- mote descendant of some collateral ancestor. The Dowager felt it no less her duty, on this account, to cultivate his affections for the domestic virtues, y AN ACCIDENT. 140 in order that he might be early induced to form a suitable matrimonial connexion, than to provide all the proper and requisite means for the deve- lopment of his talents and the formation of a cha- racter, which, she was persuaded, would reflect lustre on his country. With this view, his education was entirely do- mestic ; but conducted by masters eminently qua- lified, till he reached his sixteenth year, when he was sent to college. The Countess, at the same time, assiduously preserved an old intimacy with the Avonside family, the daughters of which pro- mised to excel their mother, who had been one of the most celebrated beauties of her day, and whose many amiable qualities were far dearer in the r&. collection of her friends, than the charms of her person, or the graces of her manners. She died while her children were all young ; but in the Marquis, their father, it was thought they had a . wise and excellent protector. Unfortunately, how- ever, afler her death, he devoted himself, as he said, entirely to public business, and left them in the hands of hired instructors, who were only an- y<-fi Mti i. ii .• 150 CHAPTER XVni. xious that they should be distniguished for the elegance of their external acquirements. In the course of this intimacy, the Countess had, in due time, the satisfaction to observe that Lady Augusta, the eldest, began to interest the youthful admiration of her son ; and it soon be- came an understood thing, among the respective friends of the two families, that, when his Lord- ship came of age, a marriage would in all proba- bility take place. We shall not dwell on intervening circumstan- ces : Lord Sandyford at college was allowed to possess talents of a very high order. The most sanguine expectations were, formed of him by his acquaintance ; but some of them differed as to the department in which he was likely to excel. The ambitious, who judged of him by his occasional animation, predicted that he would exalt the poli- tical renown of his country ; but those who most esteemed the milder movements of his character, cherished the hope, that his genius would add to her more permanent glory in the quiet pursuits of a literary life. Both parties were equally dis- appointed. AN ACCIDENT. 151 Lady Augusta Spangle was in many respects the reflex of her accomplished lover. She was not only endowed with great beauty, but an edu- cation, conducted with admirable skill to bring out all the showy portions of her character in their fairest forms and Hveliest colours, had adorned her with many elegancies, almost as fascinating as that charming simphcity with which Nature delights to set at defiance the graceful endeavours of art. She was not witty, nor did she possess any of that sunniness of mmd, which beams out in the smiles of good humour ; but her apothegms had often the force of wisdom, and sometimes the briUiancy as well as the barb of satire. It was impossible to see her without admhration ; but there was a systematical decorum in her deport- ment, which diminished the delight that her sin- gular beauty was naturally calculated to inspire. She had, in fact, been educated for the market of ftishion, and deluded by the sordid maxims of Mrs Harridan, to whom the care of her youth had been unfortunately entrusted, she believed that the main, object in the life of a young wo- man of rank, is to obtain an establishment beco- 9 F n [;;i -r " 152 CHAPTER XVIII. ming the dignity of her family. " Men,^ as that antiquated artificer of manners would often say to her pupils, " are all either mercenary or capri- cious ; and the daughter of a duke, if she is not rich, and few of them are so, has no chance of marrying according to her condition, unless she render herself interesting to the vanity of such noblemen as can afford to indulge their fancies in the choice of a wife." Lady Augusta gave cre- dit to her precepts, and was their victim. It might have been thought, considering how soon it had been determined that Lady Augusta was destined to be the bride of Lord Sandyford, that Mrs Harridan would have relaxed in her ef- forts to form an artificial character, which, if she had possessed any true judgment of the world, she must have perceived could not fail in the end to excite the aversion of the Earl ; but her sys- tem was neither to make homes happy nor wives amiable. She had an interest of her own to serve ; and actuated by the same mercenary motives as the music-masters whom she employed, was only solicitous about the effect which her pupils might produce on their appearance in society The i Mhi AN ACCIDENT. 15S eclat of a splendid general deportment she knew would redound to her own advantage ; and for this she neglected to cultivate those gentler gra- ces which constitute the true strength of female dominion. One thing, however, resulted from her system ; but perhaps it depended more on the effect of in- dividual feeling, than as a necessary consequence of the plated virtues which she so assiduously po- lished. The desire to obtain approbation quick- ened the sense of shame, and gave it even a mor- bid acuteness. To this feeling Lady Augusta was nervously alive ; and where there is shame, there may yet be virtue. The day after Lord Sandyford came of age, the marriage was celebrated ; but before the ho- ney-moon had half waned, it was evident to the most cursory visitor, that his Lordship had im- bibed some secret cause of distaste against his beau- tiful bride. By the end of the third month, to the amazement of all the world, he was wildly running the career of dissipation. The Dowager, his mother, was broken-hearted by this unexpected result, and her distress was g2. K \ ! 4,- i rf \ il 154 CHAPTER XVIII. consoled in the usual manner by a number of sym- patliizing friends, not all females, who, in their malicious consolation, often remarked, that, after all, sooner or later, men will indemnify themselves for the restraints laid upon their youth ; and that the good old way of letting young fellows sow their wild oats was evidently the best, as it was doubt- less the result of practical wisdom and experience. " We therefore," said these honourable person- ages, ^' do not despair yet of seeing Lord Sandy- ford pull up, and turn out a very shining charac- ter."" Nothing, however, was farther from the charity of their hopes ; and several years passed away, without any thing arising to make them doubt that his ruin was irretrievable. In the meantime, no apparent change had taken place in the elegant deportment of the Countess. She was still radiant with beauty, and the splen- dour of her accomplishments was acknowledged through all the constellations of fashion. Her prudence also received its due share of commen- dation ; for, notwithstanding the enigmatical ca- reer of her lord, she still preserved with him the conjugal decorum of living under the same roof. AN ACCIDENT. 155 •if J % -$ But,- txcept on tliose occasions, when it was ne- ceosary to exhibit the plate and liospitality of the family, they seldom met ; still maintaining, how- ever, towards the world that weU-bred reciprocity of civility, which justified their acquaintance in asking them to the same parties on the same card. One night, as her Ladyship was returning home *rom the Opera, her carriage, in crossing from Pica. diUy into Berkley-Street, ran against a gentleman who happened to be passing at the moment, and seriously hurt him. The stranger was lAlr Fer- rers, one of the most eccentric orbs then above the horizon of fashion. Tliis gentleman, in his youth, was ardent and generous, quick in his resentments, easily offended, and frank in his pardons ; but there was a versatility of humour about him, which prevented him from making friends, and as he ad- vanced in life, the career which he ran tended to impair his best qualities. The succession of an- xieties which he suffered from the turf and the hazard-table, excited a false appetite for acute sensations, and all pleasures see.'ned to liim vapid that were not flavoured with a mixture of appre- MM II 1 1 if .' 'S »i 156 CHAPTER XVIIJ. liension, and even of danger. His losses sharp, cned his feelings, and his success was a spur to his infatuation. This distempered state of excite- ment had, at the period of which we are speaking, attained a degree of frenzy ; and although in man- ners the unhappy man conducted himself like the generality of the circle in which he moved, he was already touched with madness. His insanity, how- ever, had not manifested itself in any instance of remarkable extravagance ; but the currents of hia mind and thoughts were troubled and impetuoiw, and frequently tempestuous gusts, and whirlwinds of rage and passion, urged him with a headlong rashness in his pursuits, whatever they liaj^ened to be ; as ofte*^, however, as he attained possession of his object, the paroxysm immediately subsided, and he paused, as it were, and looked round, as if he stood wondering at what could have instigated him into such precipitation and violence. During the period that he was confined to his room by the accident, Lady Sandyford, with whom he had no previous acquaintance, frequency sent to inquire for him ; and the effect of this natural^ indeed under the circumstances, indispensible po- 4 t !B sharp- Spur to f excite- peaking, in man- like the [, he was ty, how- itance of ts of his f>etuo««, irlwindfe leadlong appened ►ssession Libsidedj nd, as if stigated d to his h whom :dy sent naturali, ible po- AN ACCIDENT. 157 liteness, inspired him with a frenetic entliusiasm of gratitude towards her Ladyship; insomuch, that when he was in a condition to mix again in society, he sought her out in all places with an impassion- ed zeal that belonged alike to his mental infirmity and his character ; and he was so open and singu- lar in this, that he soon attracted the eyes of the world towards him. The Countess was a neglected wife ,• but such had been the pride of her carriage, that no man had ever ventured to address her with one impro • per expression ; ar.d such the sustained dignity of her deportment, that no circumstance had yet oc- curred to require the slightest exertion of the latent powers of her own mind. She was, however, struck at last with the assiduities of Ferrers ; and having a distinct perception of the shattered state of his understanding, instead of repelling or rebukiiig his pertinacity, she stooped, if the term may be al- lowed, with a compassionate condescension, which, contrasted with her usual cool and collected de- meanour, begot surmises prejudicial to her ho- nour. These, for a time, were only to be met with, F- l-r- 158 CHAi'TEft XVII I, like rare coins that serve for counters, at the select whist-tables of the Fates of reputation ; but at last they got inio general circulation among the small change of scandal at the club-houses. 'ifu A PARAGEAPH. 159 CHAPTER XIX. A PAEAGRAPH. On the morning preceding one of Lady Sandy- ford's grand winter parties, as the Earl was sitting alone in the library, after he had just finished his breakfast, and thrown himself back in his chair, with his feet on the fender, nursing such aimless fancies as float in the haze of an imagination cloud- ed by ennui, an incident occurred which precipi- tated the crisis of his conjugal disease. It was the custom of the servants in the hall to dry the wet newspapers with a smoothing iron, which not only did the business expeditiously, but gave them the lustre of the hot-press. It was also as regu- larly their custom to inform themselves of what was going on in the world, before taking in the pa- pers to their master and mistress. By this, a pa- s '-4 Pm 1-1 1 1*1 ■■Uh .■,m 160 CHAPTEE XI3C. I .. ragraph that pretty plainly accused the Countess of infidelity was discovered. In order to preserve peace in the house, it was suggested by one of the footmen th^t it would be as well to burn it out, as if by accident, with the smoothing iron. This was done, and the paper carried in to his Lordship. In this obliterating operation a portion, however, of the parliamentary proceedings was destroyed ; and little interest as the Earl took in them, or in- deed in any earthly concernment, he could not'en- dure a disappointment ; the bell, in consequence was rung sharply, and another copy of the paper forthwith ordered. , The tone in which this command was delivered alanned the servant who received it, and he com- municated his opinion to his companions, that their master had certainly, notwithstanding their con- trivance, made out some of the defaced paragraph, and therefore it would be as good as their places were worth, to equivocate any more in such cir» cumstances ; another paper was accordingly pro- cured, and presented to his Lordship. There was an air of embarrassment in the ap- . pearance of the footman who carried it in, whi(h \ A PAEAGKAPH. 161 Struck the keen eye of his master. He seemed to hesitate as he laid it on the table, and to linger in the room ; insomuch, that the Earl ordered him to retire. ■n ^The interest which had been excited in reading the parliamentary debate had, during this little interruption, subsided. Instead of turning to it again, his Lordship carelessly allowed his eyes to wander over the small talk in the fashionable de- partment; and the first paragraph that caught his attention was the one which alluded to the in- fidelities of Lady Sandyford. He read it twice over emphatically— -he rose from his seat, and walked to the window — ^he then returned, and read it again. Happening to glance over thepage, he saw that it was exactly on the back of the passage in the debate which had been burnt out. " These rascals,'' he exclaimed, " are ac- quainted with the guilt of their mistress, and it was no accident that occasioned the buniing of the other paper,"" His first movement was to call in the servants and question them on the subject ; but in the same moment he reflected on his own carelessness as a \ \ I ! ''I f..i 162 CHAPTER XIX. husband, and withdrew his hand as it was stretched towards the bell-pull — mortified with himself that the sense of honour should make him hesitate to vindicate his conjugal rights. In this crisis the Countess entered, and his Lordship rising abrupt- ly, moved towards the door, as if he had resolved not to speak to her ; but before turning the bolt, he paused and said, with an agitated voice, point- ing to the newspaper, " Your Ladyship will find an interesting paragraph among the scandalous in- uendos of the day C and in saying these words,, he hurried out of the room. The Countess hastily seized the newspaper, and on looking at the paragraph, suffered an inexpres- sible feeling of humiliation ; her pride was laid prostrate, and she sat for several minutes in a state of stupefaction ; for she was conscious of never ha- ving been guilty of any levity, and had taken no small merit to herself for the dignity with which she had endured, at first, the spleen, and subse- quently the negligence, of her lord. In the course, however, of a few minutes, she recovered her self- possession, and ringing the bell, directed cards to be instantly issued, to inform her friends that her u A PAftAGRAPH. 163 assembly for that night was deferred. With equal decision she at the same time ordered the carriage, and drove to Mrs Harridan^s, for the purpose of taking her advice. On reaching the residence of that lady, she was at once admitted by the servants ; but on entering the room where their mistress was sitting, she per- ceived by the cool ceremony of her reception, that Mrs Harridan was already acquainted with the fa- tal paragraph ; a short preface, in consequence, served to introduce the object of her visit. " I hope,'' said Mrs Harridan calmly, « that there is no real foundation for tliis slander ; but, at all events, my dear Lady Sandyford, it is n t an affair in which I can with any propriety inter, fere. Besides, now that things are so public, it would be highly improper in me, consideri g my situation, with so many young ladies of rank un-. der my care, to be at all seen in the business. Surely you have other friends, more experienced in such sort of misfortunes, to whom you can apply with more advantage.'' The Countess looked at her with surprise and indignation, exclaiming, « You speak as if I were ■^fr- 164 CHAPTEE XIX. guilty ! You throw me from you as if I brought infection with me !"" " Far be it from me,'' said Mrs Harridan, in the same quiet polite tone, " to suppose any such thing ; but I am much too insignificant a person to take the reputation of the Countess of Sandy- ford under my protection." " I thought," cried her Ladyship, almost burst- ing into tears, « that I might, in any distress, have appMed to you as to a mother." " I trust," replied Mrs Harridan, " that when your Ladyship was under my charge, you always found me such, and your conduct then was certain- ly irreproachable ; but I cannot be responsible for the behaviour of ladies after they have entered the world. In a word, should the result of this unfor- tunate business prove prejudicial to your Lady- ship, it will not be the first instance of the kind that has confirmed me in the prudence of a rule I have long laid down, never to interfere in the con- cerns of my pupils after they have once left m^ house. I shall rejoice if your Ladyship is acquit- ted of the imputation, but I cannot put to hazard the character of my establishment^ and it is there- A PARAGRAPH. 165 brought •idan, in iiny such a person ■ Sandy- st burst- 5S8, have laf when 1 always certain- sible for ered the is unfor- r Lady- :he kind a rule I the con- left my acquit- • hazard s there- fore with profound pain I feel myself constrained to put an end to our intercourse.'' The Countess was thunderstruck. She had ne- ver before been addressed in the plain language of a business-mind, sordidly considering its own interests, and pursuing them in contempt of all the sympathies and charitiv.s uf social life. She rose from her seat, but tr mbled so much, that, unable to stand, she sunk back in the chair, and gave way to her tears. Her spirits, however, soon rallied, and wiping her eyes, she returned abrupt- ly to her carriage, and drove directly home, where she dispatched- a messenger for the Marquis of Avonside, her father. ■| 166 C^tCAPTER XX. CHAPTER XX. AN EXPLANATION. Th5 Earl, on leaving the Countess, walked into the square, with the intention of going down to St JamesVStreet ; but for the first time in his life he felt that indescribable embarrassment which is so often mistaken for shame. He shtunk at the idea of meeting the eyes of his acquaintance, con- scious that they must have already seen the para- graph, and could not determine how he ought to act in circumstances so painful and unexpected. In the hesitation which these reflections caused, he happened to recollect that r.iordaunt, a college companion, whom he had not seen for several years, had left his card ^or him the day before, and he instantly resolved to go to his lodgings, and con- sult him on the subgect. Accordingly, instead of AN EXPLANATION". 167 walking ^own Bond-Street, lie crossed into Ha- nover-Square, and by the back of St George's Church, went through the narrow passage lead- ing into Saville-Row; thus avoiding the great thorough-fares in his way to Sackville-Street, where his friend lodged. On reaching the house, and being informed that he was at home, he walked up stairs, un- announced, to the first floor. His appearance would have been a sufficient warrantry for this Uberty to the servant who opened the door, even had his person not been almost universally known throughout the three fashionable parishes, and especially in the vicinity of St James's Street, For, notwithstanding the dexterity and effect of dress and address in the adventurous knights of the order of expedients, there is still an ha- . bitual and obvious source of superiority about : the unquestioned gentleman, which all the vari- ous degrees of public servants intuitively recog- nize, and none more quickly than the landladies and domestics of lodging-houses, even though the stranger should be fresh from the country, and in ; the newest gloss of a suit made on purpose for ■ * «* M if!' 4""i ''1 % ^ ^'- ' -^^1 ^^^1 •^tf aHBaa *^^^^^^l «5- X6b CHAPTER XX. i; tlie journey to Lwdoii, ^y some wornhipful digni- tary in the corpwration of the borough nearest his estate. His Lordship, on reaching the landing-place flung the drawing-room ?.oor carelessly open. Mordaunt at the moment was writing, and being disturbed by the noncl.alance of this intrusion, raised his eyes hastily, and did not at the first glance recognize, in the pale attenuated elegance of th^ man of fashion, the once vigorous and handsome rival of his boldest exercises. In an in- stant, however, he dis overed who he was, and starting from his seat, took the Earl warmly by the hands. His Lordship endured the heartiness fl£ the double shake for a few seconds with evi- dent pleasure, but ashamed to shew the sensibili- ty tliat he felt, he abruptly pulled his hands away, and shook his fingers, as if they were tingling with the squeeze, saying, " I wish the gods had given you dryads and fauns hoofs for hands ; you have positively bruised my fingers to jelly." The manner in which this was said, had a ca- dence of affectation in it, which struck disagree- ably on the ear of Mordaunt, and he looked for a AN EXPLANATION'. 169 moment at tlie delicate complexion and Hegant emaciation of his friend, with a strong feeling of disappointment and compassion ; but his kinder disposition returned upon him, and he exclaimed, **- Heavens ! Sandyford, what an altered beint^ ''' His I.ordshijs with a drolling coolness, in tlie same moment examined Mordaunt curiously from head to foot, and with burlesque gravity, said, " These muscles ar the growth of nocturnal rest, .hat hue is gathered fr'>m th morning sun, and that strength from many a stubble field and "le of iiHl and dale. — TTpon my honour^ Mordaunt, you are tho most perfect personification of the blessings oi a country life I have ever seen ab- solutely a rural allegory— Apoll^ fresh from the Hocks of Peneus. —He then paused in his rail- lery, and taking Mordaunt, with the sincerity of their old friendship, by the hand, added, ** I ca not exp.-ess how delighted I am to see you, aiiu to see you thus.*' " Aiid you ti , Sandyford,"" replied Mor- daunt, recollecting the bright expectations which had once been cherished of his friend. Up . u r VOL. I. H 170 CIIAPTER XX. tjl ** I am indeed not surprised that you should be somewhat disconcerted, for I believe that I am a little gpectrish ; and it is certain that I have been long thought no more,"" said his Lordship. There was a degree of sensibility in the man- ner in which the latter part of this sentence was expressed, that vibrated to the generous heart of Mordaunt, and, without answering, he drew the Earl to a seat, and resumed his own chair at the table. " But,"" said his Lordship gaily, " these things must not be thought of in these ways. What may tlie business he that has brought you to town, from the peaceful shades, and the innocence of the groves ?"" Mordaunt, equally desirous to change the con- versation, which he saw troubled his Lordship, said, " Matrimony.*" " You are indeed a bold fellow, to venture on a town-bred wife,"" cried the Earl ; " I really thought that the simple race of the swains had been extinct ; particularly, as the poets have of late given them up, almost even in the way of rhyme. But you surprise me, — who is the Chloe, AN EXPLANATION. 171 that with ears more used to the sound of bells and the rattling of wheels, than to the singing of birds or of falling waters, has captivated the gen- tle Damon r " Matters are not quite so pastoral with us as that,^ repHed Mordaunt. « The nymph is an old acquaintance of your own, Julia Beauchamp/' " The beautiful Julia r exclaimed his Lord- ship, with unaffected emotion, recollecting that he had not seen her since his own ill-fated marriage ; but he suppressed the remembrance, and said with animation, « The faithful loves then do still reside among the sylvan bowers.''— But this play of fan >y memory again interrupted, and present- ed .he image of Lady Sandyford, in that glow, ing beauty which had first charmed his youthful affections, when he beheld her in the graces of her virgin years, bounding like the fawn amidst the stately groves that surround the venerable magnificence of her ancestral home,— contrasted with the condition into which she had fallen, and he suddenly paused, and remained some time si- lent. i.' ^^^. 1T2 CIIArTEK XX. (( You are indisposed, Sandyford, — what is the nuitter ?" said Mordaunt anxiously. " I am only thinking," replied his Lordship, " that there cannot be a litter moment for com- municating some notion of the comforts of matri- mony, than when a man is on the verge of the precipice — Pshaw ! — I must speak out — You are here, IMordaunt, at that moment of all my life in which I stand most in need of a friend — a friend such as you are. — Have you heard any thing about Lady Sandyford ?''' '' My Lord !"" cried Mordaunt, in extreme as- tonishment. " The lapse of the Countess,'' continued his Lordship, " affects me little ; but, according to the maxims of that old rascal, the World, the bu- siness has become so public, that I must interfere. Nothing is bad in London, so long as it is un- known, and this afiuir is so notorious, that it is very bad — O, shockingly bad. But do not listen to me with such a look of strange wonder — asto- nishment is now quite obsolete, nobody submits to do any thing so simple. Do assume a virtue, AM EXPLANATION. 173 :eme as- though you have it not, or I too shall forget my- gelf. In a word, Mordaunt, I had not been lono- married when I discovered that Lady Sandyford was deficient in the most essential quality of a wife — the heart.'" . " Who is the seducer ?^ said Mordaunt, em- phatically. " Pray don't be so tragical, I beg you won't,'' cried the Earl, ♦^^o disguise his own emotion. " You consider this affair too sentimentally. Believe me, I have been long indifferent about the wo- man. I wish but for a good reason to be well rid of her society — my respect for her family, as I shall of course say to the world ; but to deal more plamly with you, my own conduct will not allow me to do more. Besides, the disgrace of a public exposure would break the proud heart of her fa- ther, nor can I make money by the dishonour of my wife." His Lordship then proceeded to tell his friend, that, soon after his marriage, he discovered that the whole mind of Lady Sandyford was bent on the figure which she herself would make in so- ciety, by which she had disgusted his feelings, i .Lii I 174 CHAPTER XX. and embittered his existence. That, giving way to the poignancy of disappointment, he had rushed into tlie follies of the town, which, however, in- stead of alleviating the irksomeness of his condi- tion, only exasperated his reflections, and drove him, with redoubled frenzy, into a fresh career of dissipation ; during which the Countess pursued ner own triumphant self-exhibition, and reached the summit of her ambitious vanity. " I thought," said his Lordship, " that pride, if iiot virtue, would, however, ha,ve preserved her, but she has fallen ; and, as in all similar cases, the husband is among the last that hears the news." He then related the incident of the burnt news, paper, and the paragraph. Mordaunt agreed, that from so public a circum- stance, there must be some grounds for the suspi- cion, and recommended that the servants should be examined. ? " But,"" said the Earl, " even were she guilty, I do not mean to institute any process for a di- vorce. Your head, however, is cooler than mine, I will be guided by you." j. io.^'Aj m^iij [i tHi(jC"i I AX EXPLANATION. 175 f " Ah, my Lord !" cried Mordaunt, " do not say to me that you can regard with indiflPerenoe the misfortunes, far less the dishonour of a beau- tiful woman, to whom you were at one time so passionately attached." After some further conversation, it was arran. ged that Mordaunt should immediately go to Lady Sandyford, and tiat the Earl should, in the meantime, remain in Sackville-Street, and wait the result of the interview. While Mordaunt was absent on this interesting missi-on, his Lordship sat for some time reviewing, with no favourable construction to himself, the rapid perdition of so many years of the best por- tion of his life. In the course of this reckoning, he blamed himself still more than in the morning, for the precipitancy with which he had, in a tem- porary fit of spleen, endeavoured to cancel the af. fection which he had cherished for his lady, and the folly of casting himself so thoroughly away, on account of a disappointment which it would have been more manly to have mastered, ** But," said he, " it is never too late to mend, and the sooner I begin the change the better." . ' M. m 176 CHArTEll XX. In the same moment he seated himself at :Mor- daunt's table, and wrote a note to Mr Vellum, re- questing him to bring, on the following morning, a statement of his affairs. This was requisite, in order to enable him to regulate his generosity, w^th respect to a settlement on the Countess ; and it was also required with a view to his own future conduct. For he was well aware that he had deeply encumbered his estates, and that before he could enter upon a new course of life, it would be necessary to abridge the prodigahty of his house- hold. The writing of this note to his Solicitor was, perhaps, the only decisive step he had taken for a number of years, and he felt, when it was done, something analogous to that glow of satis- faction, enjoyed by the strong or the bold after a successful exertion of strength and dexterity. AN EVENT. 177 CHAPTER XXI AN EVENT. When the Countess, after her return from Mrs Harridan, had sent for the Marquis her father, our hero had occasion to call at Sandyford-House from Mr Velhim. Her Ladyship having inad- vertently given no orders to be denied, he was she>vn in to the room where she happened to be then sitting. A visit from Andrew was little in accordance with the state of her feelings ; but she received him as usual ; he soon, however, disco- vered that, something was the matter, and said, '' Fm thinking, my Leddy, it's no vera conveni- ent for me to be here, so I'll just go awa' at ance —but I hope my Lord'^ weel, and tliat it's no ony thing anent him that's f> jhing your Ladyship " , i 11 H \ lis CHAPTEIl XXI. The publicity of a newspaper paragraph, and the familiarity with which Andre;/ was treated, removed any delicacy that might otherwise have been felt by the Countess on the subject, and she replied, " No ; stop where you are,'' and she then explained the cause of her anxiety. *' Really I dinna wonder yeVe vext," said our hero ; " but every body kens the newspapers live by the decking o' lees ; and I think, before you or my Lord gie them either credit or consequence, it would be as weel to sift the truth o't. Fm, as ye ken, my Leddy, but a novice ; howsomever, aiblins I may be o' a spark o' use in this ; so TU get at the bottom o' the clash, an it be for nae mair than to shew my gratitude for the great ceevili- ties that I am beholden for, baith to your Led- dyship and my Lord," and he instantly rose to go away, saying, jocularly, " Keep a good heart, my Leddy, a foul lie is no so durable as pock mark, it can be dighted off/' ' " True, but the stain it leaves behind,'' said her Ladyship, with a sigh. '. "A snuff o' tobacco about stains; your Leddy* ship's characters no a gauze gown or a worm web, 'rfsm^ m m mmm AN EVENT. 179 to be spoilt with a spittle, or ony other foul thing out of the mouth of man.'' And in saying these words, he took his leave with that customary bob of the head, which served all the purposes of a graceful bow. Themomentthat the Countess mentioned thepa- ragraph, he had recollected that there was a young man in one of the newspaper offices, of the name o£ Nettle, of whom he had some slight acquaint- ance ; and it occurred to him that by his means he might be able to reach the author of the slan- der. This Nettle had been educated with a view to the pulpit, but his disposition being loose and satirical, his father sent him to study the law un- der John Gledd. At the end of his apprentice- ship, Nettle, according to the practice of the pro- fession, went to Edinburgh, to complete his stu- dies in the office of a Writer to the Signet, where he mingled with the swarm of minor wits that in- fest the Parliament-HousjB, and being naturally clever, acquired a taste for polite literature, and sharpened his talent for satire. He possessed an amusing and lively fancy,—- indeed, so lively, that '"f.'.f r /••• % \' I / f I ' ''■ \, I 180 CHAPTER XXI. i ml [Mi\ it proved i^rejudicial to himself; for while it ren- dered his company exceedingly diverting, it made him dislike his business, and in the end threw hjm upon the streets of London, a mere literary adventurer. In this state he fortunately obtained employment as a reporter ; and at the time when our hero came to London, he was not only in con- siderable reputation as such, but was also a gene- ral contributor to most of the metropolitan perio- dical woirks, particularly the Reviews, in which the pungency of his wit was more remarkable than the soundness of his judgment. Our hero had brought an introductory letter to him from their old master ; but he soon saw that the habits and disposition of Nettle were not congenial to that sober system of perseverance which he had laid down for the government of his own conduct. On quitting Sandyford-House, Andrew went directly to the office where Nettle was employed, and it happened to be that of the very paper in whicli the mischievous paragraph appeared ; in fact, the paragraph had been penned by Nettle himself, who, having accidentally heard something e It ren- it made d threw literary )btained le when ' in con- a gene- n perio- 1 which arkable ur hero m from 3 habits 3nial to he had onduct." w went ployed,' iper in ed; in Nettle lething '; >■.' ■•.■{>ti' AN EVENT. 181 of the rumours in circulation respecting Lord and Lady Sandyford, formed, in his own imagination, a complete and plausible conception of the whole intrigue, in which it was supposed her Ladyship had been engaged ; and when, from the ordinary channel, he received an account of the prepara- tions for her party, he was in consequence tempted to write the paragraph, in order to anticipate a denouement, which, according to his notions, would necessarily take place soon, perhaps in the course of that evening. Andrew had some difficulty in gaining access to Nettle, nor was he admitted until he had sent notice that he wished very earnestly and particu- larly to see him, " on business of the uttermost importance." • " AVell, and what's this business of the utter- most importance that you have got with me f''"' said Nettle, laughingly. " It*'s a thing wherein your helping hand, Mr Nettle, can be o' a great sufficiency,'" replied An- drew, sedately. " My master, Mr Vellum, has one Lord Sandyford for a client, and something has been put out in the papers this morning con- 182 CHAPTEE XXI. 1^. ■ ceming his leddy, the whilk is like to breed a ter- rible stramash.'" Nettle was instantaneously smitten with the horrors of a prosecution for a libel, and the sati- rical mirthfiilness with which he had received Andrew, was turned into anxiety. " Indeed !" he exclaimed, " what is it ? what has it been about ? in what paper has it appear- ed?^ " I can tell you naething o' a' that,"* said An- drew ; " but I would gie a plack and a bawbee to ken the author. Noo, Mr Nettle, as yeVe ac- quaint wi' a' the jookery-cookery of newsmaking, I thought that aiblins ye're in a capacity to throw some light on the subject.'' Nettle was alarmed and disconcerted. It was of no less importance to him, that the object of our hero's visit should be concealed from his own principals, than that the author should remain unknown to the offended parties. " But are you sure, Mr Wylie," said he, " that the paragraph alluded to applies to Lady Sandy, ford.?" AN EVENT. 183 " I surely does that,'' rejilied Andrew, " or it would ude hae been so ke ne^' NeHle requested Ar'dreu a> wait till he could find the pap*^r, to ^ook at it, but in reality to gain a few minut s fo. onsideration, " The paragraph is, I see, in our paper," said Nettle, returning with the paper in his hand; " but it does not apply to ^ ^dy Sandyford. It can only have been suppobud to allude to her Ladyship, by having followed the accourt of the preparations for her assembly.'* Andrew, on looking at it, saw that this expla- nation was feasible; indeed, that, without the context, it was a very harmless pasquinade ; and he observed, " But it's been an awfu' mistake, Mr Nettle. Is there no a possibility of an expla- nation ?" "0 yes," cried Nettle gaily, relieved jfrom his apprehensions, by perceiving the harmless nature of the paragraph when considered by itself; and aware, that if the matter should ever come to any legal issue, it would be in his power to plead the ad- vertisemental account of the preparations, by pro- ducing the original paper from which it was taken. %P ilji: n f- IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) Q. ^ ^ ^ 1.0 I.I UiHa ■ 50 lU m m ^ us, 2.5 M 2.0 118 1.25 1.4 1.6 < 6" - ^ "/F (^ /2 ^ c^ s Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 87!2-4503 > 5 i^. ^ 181 CHAPTER XXI. and arguing that the paragraph was a separate and distinct communication — " O yes," he re- plied, " it is easy to remove entirely the impres- sion produced by this mistake ; but, Andrew, ye should know tliat folks in London cannot afford their time for nothing ; and that characters, like other things, when they are bought must be paid for." " Very true, Mr Nettle," said our hero drily ; " and when they are stolen, the thief maun not only make restitution, but may be made to suffer punishment." Nettle looked at Andrew^ incredulous to his own ears, not having previously conceived him possessed of any such acuteness ; and his newly recovered self-possession was completely overset, when WyHe added, " I fear and doobt, Mr Net! tie, that ye ken raair about this than ye let on ; and I would council you, as a frieu', to put your shoulder to the wheel, and get out o^ the mire, and on your way rejoicing, wi' a' the speed ye dow. For if there's to be ony compounding about this black job, it will hae to come frae your side —but I say naething. My betters will judge for 'itt AN EVENT. 185 themselves. If you hae brewed gude yill, yell drink the better— A lie's a lie ony hoojuv Net- tle ; and a leddy o' quality's name is no to be blotted wi' newspapers' ink wi' impunity ; so ye'U just comport yoursel, Mr Nettle, as ye think right." The reporter, finding he had not the simpleton to deal with that he had supposed— for his first idea was, that the Countess might be willing to pay handsomely for an effectual contradiction of the slander— he changed his tune, and said, " You have misunderstood me, Mr Wylie ; aU I meant was, that, before this unfortimate mistake gets into the other papers, I could by my influence stop it ; but, as it must be at some expence to them, and loss of time to me, I trust it will be considered." *< Considered .?" cried our hero, indignantly ; " a flail to the laitheron's hurdles. Mr Nettle, I suspect and believe that your ban's no clear o' the coom o' this wark. Get it wash't— get it wash't, or it may be dried wi' a hempen towel." And so saying, he left the office, where the astonished Nettle, who had not deemed him many degrees above idiocy, stood enchained to the spot. 186 CHAPTER XXI. No time, ho^rever, was to be lost. In the course of the briefest space possible, Nettle was round to all the other offices, and got the scandal not dnly strangled, but even paragraphs inserted, which' had tlie effi^ct of turning the suspicion, so point- ed against Lady Sandyfordj entirely in another direction. But to her, however, the mischief was done. The business, on which Andrew had been sent to Sandyford-house, was not of any very pressing importance, and he was sensible that he had al- ready greatly exceeded his time ; but confident that the service in which he was engaged would excuse a much greater trespass, instead of going from the newspaper-office to Mr Vellum's cham- bers, he went directly back to Sandyford-house, and reached the dooi at the same time with Mor- daunt, who, slightly glancing at his insignificant appearance, regarded hira as some tradesman's messenger, and was not a little surprised when he was ushered, along with himself, into the library. The Countess was up stairs with her father. You belong to the family, I presume ?"" said i( . AN BVENT, 187 the country gentleman, with an accent of interro- gation. ., " I canna just say that," was Andrew's answer ; " but I'm concerned for them." iTfMordaunt knew not what to think of his com- panion, and looked at him for a moment with an expression of the most ineffable scorn; but the oddity of Andrew's appearance almost instantly reversed his feelings. While they were thus conversing, tbr Marquis of Avonside's carriage, which had driven round the square, drew up at the door, and unmediately after his Lordship handea the Countess in, and taking his place beside her, was instantly con- veyed home. The servants in the hall were at no loss to guess the motives and complexion of this proceeding ; and o:ie of the footmen, as soon as the carriage had left the house, informed Mor- daunt of what had taken place. Andrew, on hear- ing this news, recollected the old proverb, that no good was ever got by meddling between man and wife ; and prudently resolved to escape im- mediately from the scene of action. " Will ye, sir,'' said he to Mordaunt, " be 188 CHAPTER XXI. i pleased to tell my Lord, that Andrew Wylie was at the newspaper-office, and found out there that the whole tot of the story about my Leddy's fox- paw, is just the clishmaclaver of a misleart re- porter, and he neednflr fash himsel any mair about it." " May I ask, sir,'' said Mordaunt, supposing that Andrew belonged to some of the newspa- pers, which at that time were chiefly in the hands of Scortchmen, " with what paper you are con- nected .?'' " Me connectit with a newspaper ! — Na, na, sir ; I'm of an honester trade — I'm learning to o be a writer wi' Mr Vellum, a very respectable solicitor in Lincoln's Inn. Only I hae been do- ing a bit job between ban's for my Leddy." Mordaunt was still more at a loss than er to comprehend the office and character of our hero, and would have entered into a conversation with him more particularly relative to the newspaper ; but Andrew was apprehensive that he had already gone too far with a stranger, although, by the manner in which Mordaunt conducted himself to- wards the servants, he perceived that he consi- AN EVENT. 189 dered himself on terms of intimacy with their mas- ter. Under this impression, he therefore moved hastily to the door, without replying to a question concerning the paragraph ; and, with a, curious and significant look as he turned the bolt, said, *' I wish you a vera gude morning." are con- 8-1 i. 190 CHAPTEn XXIT. CHAPTER XXII. NEGOCIATION. Wh4:n the Earl was informed by Mordaunt, that the Countess had left Sandyford-house with her father, he immediately returned home, accom- panied by his friend. Soon after this Sir Charles Runnington called ; and, on being shewn into the library, where they were still standing, he made a low and very formal bow to the Earl, and then stated that he was commissioned by his noble friend, the Marquis of Avonside, to inquire what his Lordship had to allege against the conduct of Lady Sandyford, The Earl, as well as Mordaunt, was puzzled by the narrow and almost technical ground which the Marquis had taken; but his Lordship re- II II XEGOCIATION. 191 plied, " The Countess herself best knows for vhat reason she has quitted her home.'' *' Upon that point,'' said Sir Charles Running- ton, " I have no instructions." " Then," cried the Earl, sharply, " the only answer I can return is, let her Ladyship say what she wishes me to do, and it shall be instantly done." " If I understood Lord Avonside clearly," an- swered Sir Charles, " he is averse to any formal separation ; and the Countess is not in a condi- tion at present to come to any determination." " Every thing rests with herself," said Lord Sandyford, ^ith emotion. " I have nothing to desire, but that she may find more haj^iness else- where, than I fear she has done with me. I can- not at this moment say, what it is in my power to allow her for a separate establishment ; but to- morrow I shall. Assure her that ^" He could say no more, but bo\yed to Sir Charles, and left the room. " This is a most unfortunate affair," said Mor- daunt. 192 qilAPTEIl XXII. " But not unexpected, I understand," replied Sir Charles ; " her Ladyship's family have long been aware of her situation."'* " Indeed !" cried Mordaunt ; " and how is it that Sandyford was never informed ? Who is the paramour ,?" " Paramour !" exclaimed Sir Charles, with in- dignation. " This is adding cruelty and insult to the wrongs which she has already suffered. Lord Sandyford knows that there is no guilt on her part ; she has long been the victim of his negligence, and her reputation is blasted by the consequences." " This is dreadful !'' cried Mordaunt. « Do you mean to say, that although the levity of her conduct has been so notorious as to become the game of a newspaper pasquinade, that her husband is entirely to blame .?" " Sir," replied Sir Charles, formally, "I did not come from my noble friend, her father, to en- ter into any controversy on the subject. The Earl agrees to a separation ; and from his known character, I doubt not the arrangement will be 3 NEGOriATION. 193 (Completed in a satisfactory manner. T must con- fess, however, that I have been surprised at his emotion ; he seemed much more affected than I could previously have imagined." ** The character of my friend is, I find, not well known,'' said Mordaunt ; " but I hope th" sepa- ration will not be fi.ial.'' " After what has taken place, and the expe- rience they have had of each other, it is the best tiling that can now happen,'' replied Sir Charles. " But his Lordship will no doubt feel that it is due to his own honour to investigate the newspa- l>er calumny, and to bear testimony to his convic- tion of his injured lady's innocence," " Is there no chance of our being able to effect a reconciliation if she is innocent ?^ " I will take no part in any proceeding having that for its object," said Sir Charles. " My noble friend the Marquis assures me that Lady Sandy- ford is one of the worst used wives in the world. I rely on his tordship's Honour and integrity for the truth of the statement ; and with that impres- sion I should deem myself base indeed were I to VOL. I. 1 *(.' I. if '•I' ,4 .1 '.' ♦ ",'1 m 19 1 CHAPTER XXII. recommend any thing so derogatory as the mea- sure you suggest."" Sir Charles then left the room, and Mordaunt went to the Earl in his own apartment. Sir Charles Ilunnington was a political adhe- rent of the Marquis of Avonside, and had been ein])loyed in several diplomatic missions, in which, it was said, he shewed great self-command, and upheld the dignity of his sovereign with all pro- priety, but none of his missions ever were success- ftil. The parliamentary adversaries of the Mar- <}uis said, that this was owing to his inability to understand the spirit of his instructions ; but it could never be shown, that in any one instance, he did not adhere, with a most surprising constancy, to the letter. Besides this political connexion, he was related to the Countess by her mother ; on which account, the Marquis had requested his in f'^fi ' CHAPTER XXIII. PERPLEXITIES. u I • * , During the remainder of the day after the Countess left Sandyford-House, the Earl conti- nued uneasy, irritable, and thoughtful. Mor- daunt dined with him, and in the evening he be- gan to rally a little ; but in the midst of his jocu- larity, for he was naturally disposed to indulge his fiincy in a humorous play upon the passing topics of the moment, he would suddenly Ml into Hts of abstraction, from which he as suddenly re- covered himself, as if awakening from a trance of which he had been unconscious. His friend saw his mental struggle, and exerted himself in every possible manner to draw him from the pressure of his unhappy thoughts ; but all liis efforts proved l2 . 1 -) r. W2 niAPTER XXIII. unavailing, and he at last said, " Sandyford, this will not do ; you cannot, I perceive plainly, meet this event with that indifference which you have affected, and which you are so strangely ambitious as to endeavour still to maintain even before mer " I confess it,'' replied his Lordship, " and I should have borne it even more weakly had Au- gusta been really guilty ; but how can I invite a reunion, when that old mandarin. Sir Charles Runnington, declares my own behaviour has been such, that her friends, as well as herself, are de- sirous of the separation ? Now, if I had thought she cared half the value of an odd trick for nxe, or even could but have cared, I would have been a very different sort of a husband. However, the Rubicon is passed ; but one thing at least I may still try, and that is to prove that I am not alto- gether the irreclaimable Don Juan, which the world so charitably supposes^'" The manner in which this was said, though ge- nerally in a tone of freedom and gaiety, had yet an accent of sadness that moved the compassion of Mordaunt, and he contemplated the endeavoured PEUPLEXITIES. ma cheerfulness of his friend, as he would have look- ed upon a sleeping infant, covered with a lace veil, — a sight which, notwithstanding the health, the smile, and the bloom that shines through, ofl ten suggests melancholy associations to the affec tionate heart. i " I think, Sandyford, you would feel yourself better, were you to be more communicative," said Mordaunt. " There can be nothing in your si- tuation that a friend may not know." " True," replied the Earl ; " but a man seldom chooses his friend to be the confidant of his sins. I have been worse perhaps than you imagine, though I believe not quite so bad as the world has represented me. But I have done enough of ill to know, that the task I undertake is not only to make a character, but to recover one. However, let us bid adieu to the gloomy pile of my con- cerns for the present, and tell me, Mordaunt, something of your own — the affair with Miss Beau- champ— When is the wedding to be ?" " Why, to say the truth, my Lord," replied Mordaunt, laughingly ; " although it is a settled point between us, there is yet a great impediment l-.^ I ' i I ! ! 304 CHAPTEB XXIII. to be overcome. The Baronet, her father, it seems, many years ago, when Julia was but a child, made a compact with his neighbour, the late Mr Birchland, that she should be married to Jack Birchland, then quite a boy ; and if Birch- land will take her, he swears nobody else shall have her."'' " Ah me ! for aught that ever I could learn, the course of true love never did run smooth .'^ cried his Lorddiip ; " and Birchland will be a cursed fool if he don't, begging your pardon.**^ . " Ay, but there are two words to a bargain,-— Julia has something herself to say in the busi- ness,"' replied Mordaunt. " Then Birchland is really inclined to stand by the compact ?'' said the Earl. . ^' I'm half afraid he is ; and what is more, Ju- lia herself has some suspicion of the same sort.'' " Now, I understand the whole affair," ex- claimed the Earl, laughing, and interrupting him, " you are come to London to meet her, and a stolen match is in contemplation." " You are mistaken," said Mordaunt, some- what gravely, ** Miss Beauchamp will not submit PEHTLEXITIES. «05 to any thing so derogatory to herself; but it seenn that her cousin, Letitia Irby, has taken a fancy for Birchland, and our immediate object is to make them man and wife, and by that means frustrate or defeat the pertinacious designs of Sir Thomas.'' " There are no such ingenious nest-builders, after all, as you birds of the bowers,"" cried the Earl, gaily ; but checking himself, added, " the plot is good — very good — ^but how is it to bt brought to a bearing ?'' " Julia has persuaded her father to come to town,*^ said Mordaunt, " and Miss Irby is with them. They arrived this morning. Birchland ii expected in the course of a few days,"" " Were Birchland one of our town-bred spar- rows, and not a chaffinch of the grove, I should advise,'' replied the Earl, " the pretty Letitia to coo for lovers amidst her native shades ; but as I doubt not he is as guileless as a blackbird, no harm may come of their billing even in a London cage. However, we shaU see." Mordaunt, during this sally, looked seriously r-f" Il 4i II }i 206 CHAPTER XXIir. at the Earl, and said, gravely, " Your mind, Sandyford, I am sorry to see, is accustomed to re- gard lightly some things which you were once in the habit of considering very differently. Hirch- land were a villain, if he could take advantage cf a fond girPs innocent affections.'" ■'^ His Lordship blushed, and was for a moment out of countenance, but recovering his usual fami- liarity, replied, " You John Bulls of the country serve up your morality in the husk ; a man of pleasure among you cannot taste a kernel, with- out being supposed to have cracked the decalogue. That same word, villain, is a whoreson phrase- dowlas, filthy dowlas,''— but he added, in a tone so deep and emphatic, that it made the heart of Mordaunt vibrate in sympathetic anguish, " The word, however, suits the action, but in using it, I suppose you forgot at the moment what my wife and her friends think of me." Mordaunt for several seconds was unable to make any answer, and then he added, '* Your whole life, Sandyford, has been ft riddle. The town term of it has distressed all those who es- PEUI'LEXITIES. 207 teemed you, and who cherished expectations which you were once able to realize." " I am still able,'' cried the Earl, with a gene- rous confidence in his own powers ; " but the jade must go to grass. I intend, with all convenient speed, to settle my townly affairs, and then begin another course of being at Chastington-hall, — an Elysium, as my mother has often told me, where the manes of my ancestors, in the shape, I sup- l)ose, of old portraits, would scowl their brave en- couragement on my emulous endeavours to re- vive the faded lustre of their blood. But to that, like to many other of the good old dowager's saws and sayings, I have been no better than the infi- del. However, I am resolved for a time to take up my abode at Chastington, and by the post to- day I sent orders to prepare for my reception. Were you not so engaged, I would ask you to go with me, for I believe it is a huge old Ann-Rad- diffe place, a spectrey surrounded by a rookery, which I was on the point at one time of selling, on account of its distance from town, and the red^ haired bumpkins, that came up from it occasion- ally to see London, and to keep their lord and l-fF .' J SOS CHAPTEIl XXIII. lady in hot water, and their feMows in tlic hall in laughter, all the time they stay." Mordaunt smiled at the latter reason for part- ing with the ancestral residence of all the Sandy, fords. " Upon my honour,'' said his Lordship, " there is more truth in it than you think. You can have no conception how much we were plagued by the sons of the patriarchal fixtiwes of Chastington- hall, coming here to learn the craft and mystery of footmanry ; and the worst of it was, that, after they were initiated in all the tricks of the trade, I was obliged to give them characters to my ac- quaintance, in the perfect conviction, that any principle of honesty or sobriety, which they brought with them from the coimtry, was entirely lost in this house. The possession of the place made me, indeed, feel as if I kept a roguery for the supply of the London market ; and cf<:' science, with a few secondary considerations ar ::n.. :: o^q losses at play, urged me to part with it. But nobody could be found rich enough, or foolish enough, to make the purchase." PERI'LEXITIER. 209 c hall in » for part- ; Sandy. >*Uhere :an have 1 by the tington- mystery at, after e trade, my ac- bat any :h they entirely le place aery for ^cieace, \>? fro^n i. But foolish " Surely you have never seen Chastington,"" caid Mordaunt, sliocked that his Lordship should think with so much levity of parting with a do- main and mansion, which, for many ages, a long lint of noble ancestors had successively delighted to enrich and adorn. " O never ! — A hundred and seventy mile«s from London, in a midland county — ^not even a market-town within half a score of leagues — . only a village at the gate, with a single ale-house, where a cuckoo-clock chicks at one side of the chimney-place, and the curate, smoking his pipe in an antique elbow-chair, churms at the other- was it possible to vegetate with Lady Sandy- ford ? I did, indeed, at our marriage, intend to make it our principal residence ; but a blight feU upon all my intentions of that period, and I never since could endure the idea of looking at Chast- ington, till the adventure of this morning remind- ed me of what my mother used to say about the presiding genii that inhabit there.'^ After some further general conv»^rsation rela- tive to the Earls plans, Mordaunt rose to bid him Vk *ti ' i \K \\ ; i '• ri ?«r, 210 CHAPTER XXIII. i good night. " Come to me to-morrow as early as you can;' said his Lordship, as he shook him by the hand at parting ; " and in the meantime put as charitable a construction as possible on any thing that may have had a tendency to lower me in your esteem. I am not, my dear fellow, half so bad as I have long seemed — all that which others regarded as the inebriation of pleasure, was to me the frenzy of a fever. My outward and my inner man were in afflicting opposition. The vo- luptuous draught that I was seen to swallow so greedily, was but dmnk as an opiate to allay the mental agony which I suffered. I felt as if the spring and fountain-head of all my motives and happiness were cut off, and the future rendered an arid and devouring desert. A worm was in the core of my heart, and a fire in my brain ; and for three years my spirit was parched with inex- tinguishable despair. My dissipation was mar- tyrdom ; and yet I wore the mask of a joyous libertine so well, that my hidden misery was ne- ver discovered. But the mask, Mordaunt, is now off, — the crisis of my distemper is past,— PERPLEXITIES. 211 3 early as k him by itimc put J on any lower me low, half at which sure, was I and my The vo- '^allow so allay the as if the ;ives and rendered 1 was in ftin ; and ith inex- i^as mar- a joyous was ne- aunt, is past,— and, as the faculty say, a change of scene, with country air and exercise, will perhaps complete the cure."" During this address, which his Lordship deli- vered with considerable energy, while he still held his friend by the hand, Mordaunt was greatly moved ; and at the conclusion, when the vehe- mence of the Earl had subsided into a more fami- liar strain, he said, " Sandyford, you ought to have told me what you were suffering. It was too much to put to hazard, fame, fortune, and self-respect, without consulting any friend." " It was,*" replied his Lordship, " I am sen* sible it was ; but if I could have been so prudent as to have taken the advice of any friend, I should not then have been so mad as to require it. There are states of the mind which friends should sec are morbid, without being told. One of the worst riyn.ptoms of intellectual distemperature, is the effort which the patient makes to conceal his ma- lady. Could it have been for a moment imagined by my friends^ — had they thought seriously on the ease, that I would at once forego all my early ha- ! t i i w ■i I' 212 CHAPTER XXllI. bits of emulation, the love of fame, and the desire of power, and tie myself to the chariot-wheels of hazard and sensuality, without a cause? — No, Mordaunt; when you heard of my falling off, you ought to have come to me. It was not for you to stand aloof, and see me perish ; for, with- out vanity, I may now say, humiliated as I am by the sense of my fruitless talents and abortive life, that you at least knew my original worth/' The feelings of Mordaunt were overcome, and hastily bidding his Lordship good night, he rush- ed from the room to conceal the emotion he was unable any longer to control. The heart of the Earl was relieved by what had passed ; the fine natural elasticity of his mind, which enabled him to pass with such felicitous ease from one topic to another, dilated out in the cheerful anticipation of being yet able to redeem some portion of the promise of his youth ; and he retired to his bed- chamber in a more serene and temperate mood than he had for several years enjoyed. The only anxiety he suffered was on account of his Lady, and he sighed as he said, looking at her picture. PERPLEXITIES. 213 the desire -wheels of se ? — No, lUing off, as not for for, with- s I am by rtive life, ome, and , he rush- 11 he was irt of the the fine ibled him e topic to ticipation )n of the ► his bed- ite mood rhe only lis Lady, • picture. whicli hung over the mantle-piece, " And so, Augusta, you are also gone. I thought but last night I could have better spared you. No mat- ter ; if you are happier — You have all the kind- est wishes of a man that loved von too well."* -iV..- -^ ■-,' V>.; :•!.■ i. c-:-' .v-.i.> .• b:; ■■ ";.: V ■ : */ \:.'-:' ■ ,:• . .1, •!c:tt "';■ ''•••7'-.-.; •■■••/ '■* ■•"■■ ;-■ ( r ■. ' ... -'■(,••■■>■;]. ••: ''i •■••^•• ;.:' 'j 1,'v r.A i : ■■■>:.■•■ ' :■: :■.': «';;?'/'. "-..'.■.1 .'A :'";.;■; .♦!:. t- 1' < ■ri " 1 f. l{; ' I f I 2U CHAPTER XXIVv ."i . 'J :^-^.l CHAPTER XXIV. ....:•! A MAN OF BUSINESS. • m'. ; 't * .1 At the time when the Earl had requested Vel* luin to be with him in the morning, the Solicitor, punctual to the hour, was at Sandyford-house* with a hasty sketch of the state of his Lordship's pecuniary concerns. He had heard something of what had happened; but the true circum. stances were so different from the report, that he could not help saying, " I presume there will be; no proceedings.'*' / ,*. ...• .. r *' None in your way,*" replied the Earl dryly, as he perused the statement; adding, " This looks better, Vellum, than I expected. Have you any account of my debts and mortgages 'f'' . =...■ Vellum said, somewhat diffidently, that he had s and produced a paper, The Earl, on looking il A MAN OF BUSINESS. 215 • i . 'J ■:. : .:-^.l '•: • ! . •. sted Vel« Solicitor, :d-house# ordship's )mething circum» , that he e will be rl dryly, « Thi» [ave yott he had i )oking il over, WAS surprised to observe, that Vellum him- self was by far the most considerfible creditor ; he took no notice, howevei , of this circumstance. For the money which he had borrowed at different times, he had paid an enormous rate of usury ; but he had never any reason before to suspect that Vellum was the real lender, nor diid he do so at this time. He only thought, what was indeed the fact, that Vellum had afterwards bought up the. securities. ; •. While the Earl was perusing the list, Vellum watched his eye anxiously, but ccmld discover no- thing of what was passing in his mind. On re- turning it to him, his Lordship, however, said, somewhat emphatically, *' Vellum, this is a black, account; we must use our best endeavours to bleach the complexion of^ome of these ill-favoured items." The Solicitor felt the full force and weight of this remark, and said at once, " I am aware, my Lord, that some parts of it are not exactly what your Lordship perhaps expected to see — 1 allude to ray own claims ; but the truth of the case k simply this : Had I not redeemed the bonds which constitute my claim, some other would ; and I do I.- 9A6 CXfArTKR XXIV. not think tliat any person into whose possession they might have come, would have been more de- licate than myself. I might certainly, as your I^ordship's professional agent, have resisted the debt altogether ; and, in that manner, the obliga- tion to pay them might have been got rid of. But your Lordship would never suffer me to establish a legal right at the expence of a moral wrong. I might also, my Lord, for such things are not un- common, have exhibited the claim under different names, by which my interest in the business would have been dissimulated ; but I am incapable of submitting to practise any such equivocation.'' " I am perfectly satisfied, Vellum, with your integrity as a man of business,'' replied his Lord- sliip ; " and the candour of your declaration con- firms me in the justice that I have uniformly, in my own mind, done to you as such. My confi- dence in you is none abated, and I do not consi- der the profit which you may have gained by these dealings as procured at my expence ; but, doubt- lees, the only reason which induced you not to tell me that I might have occasionally redeem- ed the pound of flesh, arose from your thorough A Man of business. 217 possession ti more de- y, as your esisted the the obliga- ridof. But establish wrong. I ire not un- er different ness would capable of •cation."" with your 1 his Lord- ration cou- iformly, in My confi- not consi- ;d by these mt, doubt- ^'ou not to ly redeem- r thorough icnowledge of the state of my circumstances, ari-. «ing from your professional trusts as my agent." Vellum bit his lips ; but the Earl in a moment changed his tone, and said cheerfully, " However, tbe matter is done, and it must not be repeated ; I wish you all happiness with your gains ; and the sooner they are realized, the more I shall be con- tent. But one thing you must, in the meantime, do for me. I have paid more attention to that Scottish curiosity, Wylie, than perhaps I ought to have done. He, however, served to amuse me when every other thing had become stale, flat, and 'inprofitable ; and he cannot but have formed some expectations from my interest or influence. I be- lieve he is h(Miest." " It is impossible to doubt it,'' replied Vellum ; " but his talents are not of a high order, nor has his education been of the best sort."" " The being,'' cried his Lordship, g^ily, " has not half the iiapacity, I believe, of a young ele- phant ; but his very deficiencies have been as ta- lents with me ; and now that I am determined to quit London, I wish to do something for him. You must take him into partnership, Vellum." ,..|:-. VOL, I. ^': wl li>.. In! 218 CHAPTER XXIV. The Solicitor was thunderstruck ; and in an ac- cent of astonishment, said, " My Lord, it is not possible — he is too young — ^he knows nothing of business."" " He is old enough," replied his Lordship cold*, ly, " to receive profit ; nor does it require any par- ticular knowledge to do so. But perhaps you would rather give him a salary,*" Vellum bowed, and the Earl continued ; " Then it sholdd be on agreement for a term of years— ijay seven. How much will you give him ?■" The decision of character which the Earl had in this interview so unexpectedly manifested, over- awed Vellum, who had hitherto considered him merely as a common man of fashion. He had ne- ver, in the course of their previous intercourse, once suspected the dormant powers of his Lord- ship's mind, which, hke a stream long dammed up, and mantled over with water-weeds and rushes, seemed incapable of being applied to any effectual pui-pose. But he now perceived that it would be useless to parry with such a character ; and, there- fore, with the oflP-hand alacrity of a man of the vorld, he replied, " It is your Lordship's pleasure r S '^ A MAV OF BUSINESS. 219 I in an ac- , it is not lothing of ship cold" e any par- :liaps you I; "Then »f years— dm r Earl had sted, over- lered him [e had ne- itercourse, his Lord- ; dammed nd rushes, yefiectual ; would be nd, there, lan of the 's pleasure to promote the fortime of the young man, and it is my duty to comply with your Lordship's rea- sonable wishes on the subject I will give him five hundred pounds a-year, for seven years ; al- though I do not think he will ever make any avail- able proficiency in his profession." " You do not then seriously think that he is likely to attain eminence as a lawyer?'' said the Eari earnestly. " I do not," was the emphatic answer. " Then," replied his Lordship, " five hundred a-year, for seven years, is too little. You will give him seven hundred and fifty." " It is far beyond his wants, habits, and ideas." Vellum, in saying these few words, was rebuked by the grave eicpression of his Lordship's eye ; and stopping as if he had been interrupted, lo(^ed con* fused. The Earl, after a pause of some ten or twenty seconds, rose from his seat, and standing with his back to the fire, said to the SoBcitor, who had al- so risen at the same time, ** I am not sure, Mr Vellum, that any man has a right to prescribe li- i" ,1 , ' i I . • mi .. ^11 [■«/ ,1 ftm CHAPTER XXIV. ihits to another's fortune. You will give MrWyi lie seven hundred and fifty pounds a-year, for se- ven years, if you think my business and connexions can, with a reasonable advantage to yourself, af- ford so much."' t 1 here was no withstanding either the manner or the matter of this. Vellum bowed with pro- found respect, and said, " It shall be done, my Lord ; and I ought to add, that it is in my power to comply with your Lordship'^s request.""' " I thank you, Vellum ; you have obliged me ;" and the Earl took him cordially by the hand. " We shall talk no more of these matters. My only instructions now to you are, let a full account be made out, and sent to me as soon as possible ; iexhibiting an exact view of my affairs ; with a ta- ble, shewing in what time my debts may be dis- charged. I will take it with me into the country, where I shall be able to determine the amount to which I must limit my expenditure."' This was evidently intended to conclude the in- terview ; and the Solicitor, sensible of the intima- tion, accordingly took his leave. In quitting the B MrWy- ar, for se- onnexions urself, af- ic manner with pro- done, my my power iged me ;'' the hand, ters. My ill account 5 possible ; with a ta- ay be dis- e country, amount to ide the in- he intima- litting the A MAN OF BUSINESS. 221 room, the Earl, however, said to him, with hig wonted freedom, " You can dine with me, I hope ?" Vellum accepted the mvitation, but with a lit- tle more formality than usual. The Earl smiled at the change, and added, in his most gracious and conciHating manner, " By the way. Vellum, this house must remain empty while I am in the coun- try, for I do not intend that it shall be let ; you had as well come here and live ; you will take bet- ter care of the pictures and furniture than ser- vants ; and I hope you and Mrs Vellum will oblige me in this. You need not materially increase your establishment, as I shall leave some of the old servants.'" Vellmn looked at his Lordship. On any former occasion, had such a proposition been made to him, he would have laughingly shaken his head in thankful acceptation ; but the singular lustre with which the latent character of the Earl shone out upon him, smote him with a sense of reverence that overpowered all his wonted familiarity, and he said, with the most profound respect, " I crave your Lordship*'s pardon for having evinced any reluc- tance to comply with your request. I ought to f *t ! 5 hi i ' \ 1 I I i le^ CHAPTER XXIV. have known better the obligations that I owe to your Lordship, and the magnanimity of your dis- position." He then said, somewhat less formally, but perhaps with more effect, " I am not, however, the only one, my Lord, who has been long in er- ror with respect to your Lordship.'' " Come, come. Vellum, no more of that," cried the Earl, interrupting him ; ** I have myself, peiw haps, been the most in error of you all. But as I have turned over a new leaf in the book of life, it is as well that the first recoid to be made thereon is what I shall not regret. Bring Wylie with ycu, that I may see with what humour the Caliban sus- tains his new fortune." The Solicitor bowed and retired. II i i:. ittmam^isaM GBATITUDE. 22f} it I owe to f your dis- 8 formally, ;, however, long in er- hat," cried yself, peiv But as I : of life, it le thereon with you, diban sus. CHAPTER XXV. GRATITUDE. FiioM the transactions of the preceding day, Wylie had been thoughtful and anxious. He studiously avoided the conversation of his compa- nions in the office, and applied himself with more than wonted diligence to his tasks at the desk. He had formed expectations with respect to the favour of Lord Sandyford, which he thought were likely to be frustrated by the unfortunate situation of the EarPs domestic affairs, and ever and anon a cold feeling came over his heart, such as often saddens the spirit of the young adventurer, when his prospects are suddenly clouded. Vellum, on returning from his Lordship, summoned him into his own apartment, and somewhat abruptly told him of his good fortun*. 4\ .;*■;♦ .'II 1 > , r 224 CHAPTEll XXV. " It's vera kind of my I ord,'' said Andrew ; " really it's vera kind— -he's a nice man, and mair in him than he's likened to; I couldna hae thought he would hae done so meikle for me al- ready." " Then you have expected,'' cried Vellum, " that he would do something for you .?" " I surely had reason," was the reply. " It couldna be thought but that in time I might hae ventured to ask my Lord's helping hand, consi- dering his discretion towards me" " The idea did credit to your sagacity, Wylie," said Vellum, ironically ; " ana I suppose you ex- erted yourself to the best of your ability to amuse his Lordship .?" " Nae doubt I did— nae doubt I did that," cried our hero ; " it would hae been an unco thing in the like o' me no to hae done a' in my capacity to pleasure my Lord." " Upon my word, there is more in you than I gave you credit for,'* replied the Solicitor, sneer- ingly, feeling as if he had been in some degree overreached by the part which Andrew had play- ed ; adding, more sedately, " But, now that you il ! GRATITUDE. ns Andrew; y and mair uldna hae for me al> i Vellum, 311 ply. " It might hae nd, cousi- ^ Wylier se you ex- f to amuse did that," mco thing y capacity ou than I tor, sneer- ne degree had play- er that you have gained your ends, and by his Lordship's ge- nerosity are placed in a condition to support the appearance of a gentleman, I hope you will set in seriously to your profession, and throw off your ridiculous manners for the future.^ " That would be a doing, indeed,'' exclaimed our hero ; " when you are just at this precious moment telling me that they have already brought me in seven hunder and fifty pounds a-year."" This answer puzzled the lawyer, who laughed, as he said, " Well, well, take your own way ; but it is no longer necessary for you to be so penu- rious." " That's vera true," replied Andrew, " and Fm thankful it is sae ; but if I dinna save now, where will I, in the lang run, be a whit the bet- ter for my Lord's bountiful patronage ? No, sir ; ye maun just let me ride my ain horse wi' my ain ha'ding." Mr Vellum suddenly broke oif the conversa- tion, and turned his attention to some matter of business; and our hero, on going to his place at tlk. desk, in the fulness of his heart, wrote a letter to his grandmother ; but without indulging Jt2 U i' 226 CHAPTER XXV. 1 m 1 ■1 ',4'S Ml i in any expression beyond the wonted temperance of his ordinary manner of addressing the affection- ate old woman, he began by stating, that for some time he had been keepit thrang both by night and by day. " But I have no reason to complain, for Providence has been pleased to raise up for me a friend, by whose instrumentality Mr Vellum has settled on me a very satisfactory wage ; the which will enable me to shew more kindncb^; to you than I have yet had it in my power to do ; and I think it my loving duty to send you herein, out of the fore-end of my earnings, something to buy a new gown, or any other small convenience that ye may stand in the need of; hoping you will want for nothing, as I doubt not to have it in my power now to do as mickle, and more, from time to time.*" And then he continued, " I have seen of late but little of Charlie Pierston, but he'*s in very good health, to the best of my knowledge, but a mischievous clever ramplor, and never devals with cracking hia jokes on me. However, I have fallen in, notwithstanding the unfashion of my apparel, with some creditable acquaintance ; but as you ken nothmg anent them, I uecdna fash you with their GRATITUDE 227 nperance affection- for some light and plain, for for me a llum has he which you than d I think lit of the o buy a ince that you will it in my •om time i^e seen of 's in very ge, but a vals with ive fallen apparel^ i you ken irith their names, nor how it was." And he concluded, by as- suring the old woman, that it would be his honest endeavour to give satisfaction to his friends, who- ever they were, and to none more than to her to whose care he was beholden for every thing but his being. This letter afforded great delight to the old wo- man ; she carried it round to all her neighbours, and even to the Manse, where the minister decla- red his entire satisfaction with the affectionate disposition, and the generous heart of poor An- drew. " But,^ said he, " London is a very expensive place, so you must not count too confidently on his being able to fulfil his kind intentions ; we might, however, have been better qualified to judge of that, had he told you the amount of his salary ; however, upon the whole, you have great reason to be thankful. I believe he was always a well- disposed creature." " That he was,'* replied Martha, in the pride of her heart ; « he's a wee gair, I alloo ; but the liberal man's the beggar's brother, and there's aye something to get by key or claut frae the miser's -i Ki' i If J • ) t 1 m bbb^hIiMH ~ i ^I^^^^B^^^I K 1 t i 228 CIIAPTF.R XXV. coffer. I dinna stand in the lack o' his gift ; but since it has come, I wUl buy a new gown for the kirk, that the whole parish may see Andrew's gudeness o' heart therein. Poor fallow— nae doubt he has had baith to thole and moil for wliat he has gotten, and it's a warld's wonder to me how he could gie sic a satisfaction. But naebody can tell what's in the shawp till it's shelt ; Paul was lang a persecu-; tor before he was an apostle, and the bonny but- terflieis begin the warld in the shape o' crawling kailworms." Thus was the character of our hero for aifec- tion and generosity established, amidst the scenes of his youth ; and when from time to time a five-pound note, in faithful adherence to his pro- mise, came regularly to hand, the worthy Tanny- hill as regularly lauded the hberality of the do- nor, and predicted his future greatness, while the delighted old woman, exulting in the constancy of his kindness, as often declared, " That she never wished to see him great, but only gude; for, as Solomon says, * grant me neither poverty nor riches ;' and Solomon kent weel what the warld is, — though, poor man, in his auld days he GRATITUDE. 229 gift; but ^own for iVndrew's Lae doubt At he has he could what's in persecu- imy but- crawling gaed aften far ajee out o' the strait road in the gloaming, tapping wi' his gowden-headed staff at the harlot's door, and Peeking in at her windows with his bald head and his grey haffits, when he should hae been sitting at hame on his throne, reading his Bible to his captains and counsellors in a kingly manner.*' for aifec- le scenes ) time a > his pro- I Tanny- ■ the do- «vhile the onstancy rhat she ly gude; r poverty what tlie I days he p4 V ¥ 230 CHAPTEK XXVI. CHAPTER XXVI. AN ALE-HOUSE. Agree/ -'ly to the orders of the Countess, her father's travelling-carriage was at the door early in the morning. 1 he day promised to be fine. The winter had been mild ; and although it was still February, the spring was seen big in the bud, and the fields seemed to be tinged with new verdure. A few lambs were scattered here and there among the flocks on the pastures ; and the air breathed an imigorating energy into the spirit, of which Lady Sandyford stood then much in need. Every thing presented the appearance of youth and renova- tion ; and the rising hopes of a richer harvest of pleasures in life, were in accordance with the ap- pearance of nature, and the genial blandishments of the early year. AN ALE-ROUSE. 231 During the first three stages of her journey to- wards Elderbower, she met with nothing to draw her attention from the contemplation of her own situation. Indignant at the world, and mortified with herself, her thoughts alternately glowed with anger, and were darkened with sadness ; but a general tendency to a more elevated course of re- flection gradually acquired force, and her spirit rose as it were out of its passions and prejudices, like the moon ascending from behind the lurid glare, the smoke, and the dark masses of a great city. When the carriage stopped to change horses at the Rose and Crown, in the village of Castle- Rooksborough, her Ladyship was roused from her reverie by the murmuring of a crowd round the door of a small public-house, on the opposite side of the way. There was something in the ap- pearance of the people, which shewed that their feelings and sympathies were excited by some dis- tressing occurrence, and she inquired what had happened. Several voices, all anxious to engage her humanity, answered together, that a poor un- known outlandish woman had been taken in labour 1 ; ' s h Fi f ' >■ I I I » H' ^ % i '■'■ / f: .1' I 232 CHAPTER XXVI. in the London coach, and being left there, had expired in giving birth to a beautiful female in- fant. It was not the intention of the Countess to have halted, till she had reached the end of her journey ; but this incident had such a powerful effect on her newly awakened sensibilities, that she immediately determined to ahght, and make some arrangement for the preservation of the help- less child. The crowd were toudied with admi- ration at her generous compassion, and made way for her to the c'sor of the public-house, with a degree of reverence, mingled with delight, that came over her heart with an influence more deli- cious than the early odours of the spring ; but no previous view of the privations of the poor had prepared her for the scene that she beheld on en- tering the house- She was first shewn into the kitchen, or rather the door opened into that apartment. It was a rude low-ceiled room, with a large chimney at the one side, in which a hospitable pile of roots, and billets of wood, were cheerily burning. In the one corner hung several hams and flitches of ba-. AN ALE-HOUSE. ,233 ere, had imale in- intess to d of her powerful ies, that nd make the help- ;h admi- tade way , with a ;ht, that ore deli- ; but no loor had i on en- T rather [t was a nney at Df roots, In the s of bar. con ; m the other stood a bench, somewhat dis- located in its limbs, with a high back, which bore a sort of outline resemblance to an old-fashioned sofa. Opposite to tlie fire was an inclosed re- cess, with an oaken-table in the middle, carved with the initials of some favoured customers; and round it about six or seven labourers were seated, some with bread and cheese before them, others with tankards of ale ; two or three of them were smoking. They rose, as her Ladyship passed across to a room, where a number of woxnen and children were assembled ; on entering which, her ear was pierced, and her heart penetrated, by the shrill and feeble wail of the new-born orphan. She advanced towards the side of an humble bed, on which lay the body of the mother^ still retain- ing that last and indescribable gleam of earthly beauty, which remains for a few minutes after the spirit has departed, and seems as if it were the reflection of the etherial guest hovering in contem- plation over the dwelling it has for ever quitted. An elderly woman was respectfully composing the limbs, while another was dressing the child as it lay on her lap. ,1 , H, 1 i •1 234 CHAPTEE XXVI. I. ; Lady Sandyford was exceedingly moved by a spectacle as new as it was mournful, and obeying the shock and impulse of the moment, she hastily turned back, and ran across the street to the Rose and Crown. " For Heaven's sake !" she exclaimed to the landlady, who followed her into one of the par- lours, " what is to be done with that unprotected infant ?" " Don't afflict yourself, my lady,*" replied Mrs Vintage ; " the parish-officers will see to it. They have already sent for Mrs Peony, the wife of Mr Ferrers, gardener. Her own child died yesterday, and she will be right glad to get this one in its place. I would therefore, my Lady, recommend your Ladyship to take some refreshment, and com- pose your spirits. What will your Ladyship be pleased to take .''*' . Flounce, her Ladyship's gentlewoman and com- panion in the carriage, who had been during the whole time ari amazed spectator of the Countess's agitation, interfered, saying, " Perhaps my Lady will be better by being left for a little alone ;" and the Countess intimating, by a motion of her hand) AN ALE-HOUSE. 235 ved by a 1 obeying le hastily the Rose id to the the par- protected )lied Mrs it. They ife of Mr esterday, me in its commend and com- lyship be and com- uring the Countess's my Lady ne ;■" and ^er hand, an acquiescence in this suggestion, Mrs VinUge withdrew. " Flounce,"' said her Ladyship, the moment they were by themselves, " I have a great mind to take this baby with us." " O monstrous, your Ladyship !" exclaimed the tender-hearted Abigail. " Why the creature hasn't a stitch of clothes ; and how could we nurse it in the carriage on my best pelisse ? No, my Lady ; let the parish-officers first get it nursed, and then if it chance to be a beauty, your Ladyship may show your compassion ; but, Lord, if it prove an ugly brawling-toad, what could be done with it .^'^ " There is some reason in what you say, Flounce," replied the Countess ; « particularly as to the risk your best pelisse might be exposed to. But, nevertheless, I will adopt the child; therefore, do you call in the landlady again, that I may speak to her on the subject." Mrs Vintage, on returning into the room, was accordingly informed that the parish^fficers need give themselves no farther trouble about the or- phan, for it was her Ladyship's intention to take it under her protection. i' , ■ \i i i I J 236 CHAPTER XXVI. " But," said the Countess, " I do not wish for the present to be known in the business. I must therefore beg of you to make the necessary ar- rangements with the nurse of whom you spoke, and in the course of a few days, you will hear from me more particularly on the subject. In the meantime, I will leave with you what money may be necessary to defray the expenccs of the mother''s funeral In order, however, that some key, if possible, may be got to her relations, I think it will be proper to take possession of any luggage she may have had witli her." Mrs Vintage told her Ladyship, that she un- derstood there was nothing but a box, which the officers had already opened, and found it con- tained only a few trinkets and clothes. " I have taken charge of it, and if your Ladyship pleases, I will give it up to you."'"' " Yes,"" said Flounce, " I think if my Lady is to be at the expence of the brat''s education, she should have what effects belong to it. So pray do let us have the box with us. — I dare say, my Lady, some of the trinkets must be valuable ; for did your Ladyship not observe what delight- i AN ALE-HOUSE. J237 t wish for I must Bssary ar- ou spoke, will hear St. In the oney may 3 mother''s e key, if I think it y luggage It she un< wrhich the id it con- " I have p pleases, my Lady jducation, ;o it. So '. dare say, valuable ; t delight- ful large car-rings the poor dead creature had ? Surely they will never be so barbarous as to bury her with them. If they do, I should not be sur- prised were the sexton to dig her up in the night, and pull them out.*" " Flounce,'' cried her mistress, with displea- sure, " you allow yourself to talk too flippantly. Desire the footman to see the box -^refully put up with the rest of our luggage." Her Ladyship then gave Mrs Vintage some instructions respecting a slight repast ; and wliile the preparations for which were going on, the re- quisite arrangements were made with Mrs Peony to take charge of tlu child, which the Countess directed to be named Monimia. During the conversation, it transpired that the Mr Ferrers, in whose service the husband of the nurse was gardener, was the same gentlemsiii whose attentions to the Countess had already pro- duced such baneful consequences. He was lord of the manor in which the village was situated, and possessed a fine ancient seat in the immediate neighbourhood. There was nothing in this infonnation which h : li: »\ •> %' r ■ 1 ¥■ 238 CHAPTER XXVI. disturbed Lady Sandyford ; for she was not aware that it was owing to the ridiculous assiduity of Ferrers that her unhappy situation with her hus- band had been brought to such a painful issue. Nevertheless, the remainder of her journey to El« derbower, the seat of the Countess-Dowager, was performed in silence ; even Flounce said nothing, nor made any attempt to engage the attention of her Lady, but, ruminating on the events of the day, fell fast asleep. m W A DOWAGEE. 239 iS not aware issiduity of th her hus- inful issue, mey to El- wager, was id nothing) ttention of nts of the CHAPTER XXVII. A DOWAGER. Elderbower had for generations been the appropriated retreat of the dowagers of Sandy- ford. It was a venerable white-washed mansion, presentmg a front of three gables, topped with stately ornamented chimnies, toward a smooth, well-shaven green, inclosed on the right and left by high walls, clothed with laurels and other shrubs of constant leaf and verdure. This lawn, or par- teiTe, as it was called, opened to the public road by a pair of iron gates of florid tracery, between two tall embossed and sculptured columns, on the tops of which stood a couple of grotesque statues, intended to represent Saxon warriors, the support- ers of the Sandyford arms. These, m a boyish freak, while residing here under the maternal wing, the Earl one day painted in the colours of i- h 240 CHAPTER XXVII. the family livery, to place them on a footing, as he said, with their equally wise fellows in the hall ; and his mother, from an indescribable sentiment of affection, yearly renewed their liveries ; contrast- ing with sorrow the light and jocund gaiety of the time when the frolic was first played, with the headlong dissipation that had succeeded. This widow's nest, as the Earl was in the prac- tice of designating Elderbower, stood on the skirts of Elderton, a cheerful market town, near the rec- -tory, and not far from the church ; so situated, as his Lordship said, in order that the dowagers might have the benefit of clergy in their felonies on the adjacent characters. But the insinuation did not apply to his mother, who was in many respects an amiable woman, though weakly overvaluing her rank. .•'.";«} ^ '■' ■ ..••..; -' When the bell at the gate announced the arri- val of her daughter-in-law, she was sitting alone at a parlour window, which overlooked a flower- garden that sloped gently down towards a beau- tiful smooth grass plot round a basin, in the mid- dle of which stood a naked leaden mate image, in- tended for a heathen god, but whether Apollo or 12 A BOWAG^EJl. Ml footing, as in the hall ; entiment of ; contrast- aiety of the I, with the ed. n the prac- n the skirts ear the rec- situated, as agers might inies on the ion did not respects an rahiing her ed the arri- itting alone d a flower- rds a beau- in the mid- e image, in- f Apollo or -Vulcan, was never thoroughly or satisfactorily de- termined. His reverence, the rector, who had once acquired some knowledge of such things at Ox- ford, was of opinion that the statue was an original c^st of the Farnesian Hercules ; but the traditions among the domestics and of the environs, described it as the effigy of Sir Gondibert le Saint et Porte ; who, on account of liis great valour, obtained the redoubtable surname of Hardknocks— a most va- lorous and courteous knight, that was taken by the Pagans and flayed alive at Jerusalem, in the time of the Crusades. But however questionable the character might be which the image exhibited, or whatever contro- versies existed with respect to its origin, it cer- tainly poured from a conch a copious stream of crystalline water, which fell in a gentle and ever- rippling shower on the surface of the basin, and spread into the quiet air around a sober murmur, that softly harmonized with the tranquillity of the scenery, and the golden composure of the set- ting sun, which the old lady was then contempla- ting, with her elbow resting on a large Prayer- l)ook, in which her spectacles marked that she had VOL. I. T '':\ ■ 242 CIIArXER XXVII. i I been recently reading the collects prescribed for the evening. Shock, her Jap-dog, lay slumbering •on the rug, with his head comfortably pillowed on the breast of Pur, a large demure and decorous tor- toise-shell cat, that was also enjoying at full length the drowsy influences of the bright blue-tinged fire, which, like the splendour of the western skies, gave an assurance of continued clear and dry wea- tlier. Shock was disturbed in his siesta by the sound of the bell ; and starting up, ran barking towards the door ; while his lady, taking her spec- tacles out of the Prayer-book, place 1 it on a table behind her ; on which, amidst several volumes of • a devotional character, lay a copy of the newspa- per containing the paragraph that completed the ■ rupture between her son and his wife. It may therefore be easily imagined with what emotion . she beheld the Countess, unannounced, enter the room ; and ahnost in the same moment, felt her in . teara on her bosom. . " Alas !"" said the venerable matron, " what is . this ? and why have you come to me ? But I pity you more than I can express ; for I fear that the conduct of George afforded too just a palliation.'' i£L A DOWAGEK. S48 jcribed for ilmnbering allowed on corous tor- full length >lue-tinged item skies, id dry wea- sta by the an barking g her spec- ; on a table volumes of lie newspa- ipleted the I. It may at emotion [, enter the , felt her in , " what is But I pity :ar that the palliation." I " Then you have abeady heard what has hap- pened ?" cried the Countess, in some degree reco- vering herself. " Whatever may have been my indiscretions, I am at least, my dear mother, free from the imputed guilt. Lord Sandyford and I have long lived a comfortless life. He has treat- ed me as if I were unworthy of his affection, and perhaps I have acted as if I felt none for him. This public scandal has opened my eyes to my faults ; and I have come to you to learn how I may recover the esteem of my husband. My fa- ther urges me to a formal separation. He did in- deed persuade me to remove with him from San- dyford-house. It was a rash step, but it is taken. Instruct me how it may be redeemed." The Dowager dropped a tear on the hand which Lady Sandyford had, in her earnestness, laid upon her knee, and said, " I thank you, Au- gusta, for this confidence ; but I feel a mother's sorrow for George. His ruin is, I fear, now com- plete. But endeavour to compose yourself, and we shall consider, at leisure, what is the best course to pursue. You have done wisely to come to me. The knowledge that you have taken refuge here, I!-'! > f ' I ' r«' ki ■If JHHt' - > ^H ^K ' IP 11 : mB^^ffii 244 CHAPTER XXVII. will do much to remove that unfavourable con- struction towards you which the world, taught by the fatal newspaper tale, will doubtless put on the separation."" The maternal anxieties of the old Lady as to the manner in which the Earl had acted in the busi- ness, received some alleviation from the Countess's report of Sir Charles Runnington's mission, and she said, " Thank Heaven, his heart is not entire- ly corrupted, nor his principles destroyed ; I hope he has still good feeling enough, were it once ef- fectually excited, to work out a gracious change in his conduct. If he could once be convinced that you are solicitous to regain his affections, hivS ruin may be arrested ; for whatever his behaviour may have since been, he once, Augusta, undoubt- edly loved you truly." The benign composure of the Dowager had an immediate and tranquillizing effect on the mind of the Countess ; who, in tho course of less than an hour after her arrival, was able to discuss with her the plan that she had formed in the hope of re- gaining the esteem of her Lord. The Dowager would have written the same night to request the A DOWAGEE. 245 able con- ;aught by )ut on the { as to the the busi- ]!oimtess's ?sion, and lot entire- d ; I hope t once ef- as change convinced jtionsj hivS behaviour undoubt- er had an le mind of >s than 311 IS with her )pe of re- Dowager jquest the presence of the Earl, that their reconciliation might be immediate, but the Countess would not permit. " No,''' said she, " I do not wish that we should come again together, unless there can be a recipro- city in our tastes and sentiments. I feel my own insufficiency at present to contribute to his hap- piness.'" The oldLady affectionately interrupted her, say- ing, " You have too humble an opinion of your- self." " Ah !■" exclaimed her Ladyship, " humility is to me a new feeling. I cannot disguise to myself that, with all my former vain pretensions to supe- riority, I have failed to preserve the love of a man that once doated upon me — ^perhaps I have even been instrumental to that woeful lapse which has so long embittered your declining years.'" The tone of contrition in which this was ex- pressed, surprised and grieved the venerable Dow-, ager. She beheld the character of Lady Sandy- ford in a point of view of which she had formed no previous conception ; and there was a modesty in this, which, while it moved her compassion, so- licited encouragement. She saw that the Count- I' I; I 11 t S46 CHAPTER XXVII. Hi m ess felt more deeply the stigma to which she had been exposed, than could have been expected from a woman hitherto considered as equally under the dominion of pride and vanity. By this time it was almost quite dark ; and such had been the earnestness of the conversation be- tween the two ladies, that the one forgot the fa- tigue of her journey, and the other, to ask if she required any refreshment. Far different was the case ^ith Flounce ; she was prattling away with delight over a dish of green tea, along with the methodical Mrs PoHsher, who held the responsi- ble dignity of house-keeper at Elderbower ; re- paying the civility of her entertainer with a full, true, and particular account of the infidelities of the Earl. " I declare, my dear ma'am," said Flounce, " he is the most shockingest man you ever heard of; and more times than I shall tell, he has shewn his cloven foot to me. But, my Lord, says I, I would have your Lordship to know, that if my lady submits to your raking, I wont. — Really, Mrs Polisher, you make excellent tea ; but I suppose the water is very good in this here countrified place — and then his Lordship A DOWAGEE. 247 1 she had cted from inder the and such sation be- ot the fa- isk if she Lt was the ;way with ; with the responsi- >wer; re- ith a full, ielities of im,''' said man you shall tell, But, my rdship to raking, I excellent )d in this Lordship would laugh and make garjie of me — Pray do give me a morsel of sugar — dear me, what charming cream — a little more— I protest it's beautiful — I never tasted such delicious cream — ^and this is such a pretty house — I guess, however, you must be dullish, keeping no company ; and I should think my lady will not stay long. I fancy when the divorce is finished we shall have one of the Earl's other seats to live in.** " Divorce r cried Mrs Polisher in amazement ; for she had not yet heard, notwithstanding all Flounce's talk, any thing of the separation — " Di- vorce ! what do you mean ?"" " Why, haven't you heard that my Lady has been caught in a denoomang ?" Mrs Polisher, an old respectable matron, start- ed back from the tea-table, exclaiming, " Not pos- sible !" " As to the possibility of t>e thing, that's nei- ther here nor there," said Flounce, sipping her third cup ; " but the story's dl blown abroad, and our men read it in the newspapers ; but being a delicate affair, you know I could not speak of it to my Lady herself; but it's in the newspapers ; I i 1 •II Pi IrM 24S CHA1»TER XXVII. SO there can be no doubt of the fact. Indeed, my Lord Avonside came and took her away out of tlie house, and I was ordered to follow in the evening. Then there was such a piece of work — lleally,Mrs Polisher, this is prodigious fine hysson — a small knob of sugar, if you please. But, you know, it does not do for us servants to make or meddle in these sort of matters — so I said nothing, because my place is a very good one. I wonder, however, what your Dowager thinks of the business.*" " Thinks !"' cried Mrs Polisher, indignantly — " It wiU break her heart ; and I am astonished that your Lady Sandyford should dare to shew her face in this liouse ; but these sort of creatures are as impudent as they are wicked.'^ At this moment the Dowager rang the bell that summoned Mrs PoHsher, and Flounce was left, for a short time, to her own meditations, or rather to her observations ; for the moment that the house-keeper's back was turned, slie immedi- ately began to inspect every thing in the room, with the avidity of an intending purchaser. But before she had completed her survey, an old cor- pubiit footman, who was lame with the gout, came I: a , A DOWAGER. 249 ieed, my lut of tlie evening, ally, Mrs —a small know, it [leddle in ;, because however, ■ssr ;nantly— stonished to shew creatures the bell unce was ations, or nent that immedi- ;he room, ser. But 1 old cor- out, came in to inquire for his young lord, as he ca^^ed the Earl. • • ••••••• • • • . " Don't talk of his Lordship to me," cried Flounce, " he's a naughty man, and 'tis all his fault." " I wont believe a word on't," said the man, who had heard something of the separation from the servants of Lord Avonside that came with the Countess ; adding, " before he fell in with your damned lady ^" " My damned — O, monstrous f— But the fel- low's a bumpkin," said Flounce, with a most in- effable toss of her head ; and she then added, ** Sirrah, if you know what it is to have good manners, you will bring in a light, and take none of these liberties with me.*' Thus asserting and up- holding her metropoUtan superiority. •'i-'i,, ..'if*''".: ''••' '••' '' .. " ^T- hk.:, K, 250 CHAPTER XXVIII. CHAPTER XXVIII. AN ATTEMPT. MoRDAUNT, soon after Vellum's eventful inter- view with the Earl, called at Sandyford House, to represent in the strongest terms to his Lord- ship, the misery that he was evidently bringing upon himself; but he found him inexorable. " Had Lady Sandyford not quitted the house," said his Lordship, " thereby leaving me under an impression of her guilt, or what I regard almost equally bad, in total carelessness whether I con- sidered her guilty or innocent, I might, perhaps, have been induced to re-consider her situation, but I cannot now. Her conduct confirms me in the justice of the opinion I have been unfortunately taught to form by her behaviour, ever since our ill-fated marriage. She is incapable of caring for tful inter- rd House, his Lord- r bringing rable. he house," ; under an ird almost ler I con- , perhaps, situation, 5 me in the ortunately since our carmg for AN ATTEMPT. 251 any one, and the only pain she will feel for what hm happened, is the damage that has perhaps b«;n done to her own reputation.'' Owing to a long debate in the House of Com- mons, the preceding evening, the newspapers were late in being issued that morning, and the Earl, engaged with Vellum, had neglected to look at them. At this crisis of the conversation, how- ever, his Lordship, in folding up a note, happen- ed to throw his eye on the paragraph ingeniously inserted by Nettle, to turn the attention of the scandal-mongers. It stated the extreme regret of the editors and proprietors, that, by one of those inadvertencies inseparable from the haste with which a daily newspaper was necessarily compiled, a paragraph relative to the elopement of Mrs C. with the gallant Colonel D., had been so placed in connection with an account of the Countess of Sandyford's assembly, as to induce some of their readers to think it applied to that amiable and noble lady — " a mistake which they could not suf- ficiently lament, even although assured that it had only occasioned a great deal of merriment to the ! •'■■ V • m II r 2o2 CHAPTER XXVIII. Earl and Countess, who were every thing envi- able and exemplary in married life."*"* His Lordship burst into a fit of laughter, ex- claiming, " There are really no such fictions as those of your contemporary histories ;"" and he handed the paper to Mordaunt. " What can be the meaning of this ?" cried the honest country gentleman ; " Is it satire ?"" " O dear, no," repHed the Earl ; " the editors, and proprietors suspect they have got into some scrape, and are taking this method to appease the oftended enviable exemplars, meaning Lady Sandyford and myself ; of whom, it would appear, they know about as much as they do of the poli- tical intrigues and transactions which they illu- minate and chronicle with so much seeming saga- city;' " Monstrous !'' cried Mordaunt ; " I had no such conception of the licentiousness of the press." " The only thing I am surprised at," said the Earl, " is, that the amend should have been made so expeditiously." AN ATTEMPT. 253 ng eiivi- liter, ex- ctions as and he cried the -* • e editors ito some appease ng Lady i appear, the poli- hey illu- ing saga- [ had no of the said the een made " But who is this Mrs C. and Colonel D. ?" cried Mordaunt. " Who !'' exclaimed the Earl ; " I declare you cooing lambkins and capering doves of the azure fields are such innocents, that there is no speaking to you about any townish matter, with- out entering into details obnoxious to all inven- tive genius. Who, in this case, can Mrs C. be, but the celebrated Miss Fibby Fiction, the eldest daughter of my Lady Fancy, a personage of great repute and influence in the scandalous world ; as for the gallant Colonel, depend upon't, he is no other than that fine bold swaggering blade, who, it is well knowTi, has been long the declared ad- versary and rival of your country neighbour, Mr Simple Truth."" " And yet by this, which you think an inven- 'tion, has your domestic happiness, my Lord, been sacrificed P" " Softly, Mordaunt," said the Earl, " not so fast — my domestic happiness has not been so mal- treated by the Flamens— these priests of Mars and Bellona, as I consider the newspapers — the heart and bowels were consumed on the altar of ii;i ! f'':*" 254 CHAPTER XXVIir. the Eumenides long ago. But I cannot divine Avho has taken the trouble to interfere so expedi- tiously."" ; . T Mordaunt then told his Lordship of the eon- vearsation which he had held with Andrew, de- scribing the singular appearance and cunning simr. plicity of our hero. ,. ** The Earl was struck with the information, and exclaimed, " It is impossible that WyUe could have contrived any thing half so ingenious as this paragraph. But I wiU sound the bottom of it immediately.*" •,..': ■.: • In the same moment his Lordship rung the bell. Wylie happened to be then at the door, coming to thank him for his kindness ; and the servant who answered the bell announced him. Andrew, from the moment that Vellum had communicated to him the generous interference of the Earl, had undergone an intellectual trans- mutation. An irresistihle sentiment of gratitude arose in his heart, so strong and powerful, that it became as it were a principle of duty ; and ac- tuated by this hallowed and gracious feeUng, with- K'4l AN ATTEMPT. ^55 t divine expedi- the eon- rew, de- ing siiUr. ■ . . ' * * ion, and ie could Ls as this )m of it ung the iie door, and the I him. . •um had irference al trans* jratitude 1, that it and ac- ig, with- out reflecting on the impropriety of obtruding on his Lordship, at a time when a more worldly head would have concluded that the Earl was not likely to be ix a humour to receive him, he went to Sandy- fbrd-house. -^^'On entering the library, he was struck with the change in his Lordship's mien and air. In- stead of the quiet smile of intellectual indolence which his Lordship usually wore, his countenance was Ughted up, and there was a quickness in his eye, and a precision in his manner, that discon- certed the self-possession of our hero. " How is this, Wylie .'-—here ahready !'' said the Earl, surprised at his sudden appearance. " I am come to thank your Lordsliip," said Andrew, modestly. The Earl was as much astonished at the diifi- dence with which this answer was expressed, as Andrew himself was at the exactitude of his Lord- ship's question. Mordaunt looked on, curiously examining them both. " Say nothing about thanks, Wylie,'' cried his Lordship. " I hope what Mr Vellum intends to lik ^6 CHAPTKE XXVIII. |: f do for you will be repaid by your endeavours to give him satisfaction."'' Andrew replied, stiU diffidently, " The wiU's hearty, my Lord, but the ban's weak ; I hope, , howsomever, that your Lordship will let me do something to oblige yoursel, as weel as Mr Vel- lum.'' Desirous to avoid the promptings of our hero's gratitude, the Earl interrupted him, saying, " Pray can you tell me how this got into the newspaper .^" showing him the paragraph. Andrew read it over studiously, and then said, " My Lord, this is glammerie ;" and he then explained to the Earl, that he suspected it was a device to obviate the eflect of the former para- graph. Mordaunt was surprised at the sagacity of the seeming simpleton. His Lordship was no less so ; and pleased with the coincidence with his own opinion, loudly expressed his approbation of tlie conjecture. Our hero then related what had passed between him and Nettle ; adding some reflections of his %"mf: AN ATTEMPT. 257 ivours to 'he will's I hope, it me do Mr Vel- ur hero''s ^,"Pray spaper ?" lien said, he then . it was a ler para- ty of the ) less so ; his own >n of the between OS of his own, calculated, as he intended, to lighten the importance which he supposed the Earl attached to the paragraph. " They are a' wheen wily gleds in this town," said he, slily looking from under his bent brows. " Though it's a hang't lee, my Lord, I hope the tae half o't will be true, and that you and my Leddy '''' The Earl's countenance changed, and Andrew shrunk tremblingly from the stern rebuke of his eye ; but Mordaunt, who saw the well-meant pre- sumption of the observation, interfered and said, " You are quite right, Mr Wylie ; and you could not better shew the sense of obligation, which you seem to feel towards his Lordship, thar by wish- ing, as you do, a reconciHation with the Countess." Lord Sandyford felt offended with Mordaunt for the freedom with which he addressed himself so openly on so delicate a subject, and to so young a man, and one, too, of our hero's condition. Andrew, however, was encouraged by this in- terposition, and said, " Odsake, my Lord, ye mauna flee up at ony thing I say ; for it would be an ill return for your Lordship's goodness, and i ." &t m -1 258 CHAPTEE XXVIII. the discretion I have had at my Leddy's han, were no I to ettle my best ''"' " Peace !" cried the Earl. Andrew looked round to IVIordaunt, coweringly and jocularly, as if in dread of a castigation. " You might at least hear what Mr Wylie has to say," cried Mordaunt. " Kindness at ail times merits civility."" ' Well, and what has Mr Wylie to say ?" ex- claiiried the Earl, a little contemptuously, look- ing at our hero, who was, however, none daunted by his manner, but, on the contrary, urged by grati- tude and the encouragement of Mordaunt, replied, " I didna think your Lordship was sic a spun- kie — ^ye'll no mend yoiur broken nest, my Lord, by dabbing at it. So, out o' the regard I hae baith for you and my Leddy, I would spear what for ye put her awa' .'*'' The Earl, confounded by this category, almost laughed, and cried, " Why, thou paragon of ani- mals, she went away herself.^ *' Poor body," replied Andrew, " ye maun hae used her very illj my Lord ?" dy's han, iw looked ularly, as iVylie has \. ail times say ?" ex- isly, look- e daunted dbygrati- it, replied, ic a spun- my Lord, ird I hae jpear what try, almost jon of ani- maunhae AN ATTEMPT. 259 This was said in such a manner, that Mordaunt and the Earl looked at each other. He saw their astonishment, but took no notice of it, continuing, " She was a fine Leddy — ^maylie a wee that dres- sy and fond o' out-ait— T'U no say she was en- tirely without a fault- for we a' hae our faults, my Lord, — and am in a great ane to speak wi' this freedom to your Lordship ; but when I think what ye hae done for me — I was a friendless lad, and ye took me by the han\—and could I sit still and see scathe befall my benefactor, I wouldna be a stirk o' the right stock that's bred on the Ian' o' Scotland." There was something in this approaching to energy ; insomuch, that the Earl said, " I am much obHged to you ; I thank you for the interest you take in my happiness. It does honour to your feelings ; but you will oblige me by saying no more on the subject." The manner in which his Lordship spoke was at once mild and firm. It admitted of no reply, and it offended no feeHng. It neither made our hero sensible that he had transgressed the limits of decorum, nor that he ought to regret what he i3 ^ ; X I i t * • I a' I 260 CHAPTER XXVIII. had done ; but it effectually closed his lips, and he rose to take his leave. The Earl said to him, as he was on the point of retiring, " I intended to have had the pleasure of seeing you with Mr Vellum before leaving town, but that I find will not now be convenient. Make my comphraents to him, and say, that he will have the goodness to send the papers I want to Chastington-Hall, as I have determined to set oft' early to-morrow morn- ing. Andrew, with humble respectfulness, and more emotion than his Lordship deemed him suscepti- ble of, then withdrew. " I am glad to be rid of the fellow," said his Lordship, as the door shut; " we should have been in heroics, with handkerchiefs at our tragical eyes presently ; and as I do not think the Scottish dialect is at all sufficiently sonorous for blank verse, don't you tiiink, as a matter of taste, it was right to send him hence ? I am soi-ry, however, to have been so peremptory with him. The gods play with our hearts as shuttlecocks. — ^Here is a woman that 1 did not believe had life to feel even an insult, has gone off a flaming seraph, red- ■Til AN ATTEMPT, 261 lips, and id to liim, [ intended 11 with Mr I find will mpliraents ; goodness m-Hall, as crow morn- , and more n suscepti- ,■" said his I have been •agical eyes le Scottish for blank aste, it was , however, The gods —Here is a life to feel leraph, red- dening with hostility—and an unhcked thing- becoming at once the noblest work of God- startling my baser humanity almost into tears."— During the time that his Lordship was thus sixjaking, he continued walking up and down the library. Sometimes he addressed himself to Mor- djunt ; but, for tlie most part, what he said was in soliloquy, and he was evidently deeply agita- ted ; at last he made a full stop, and said, " I am really persuaded that this young 'Edwin is no vul- gar boy.' There is much virtue in that awkward simplicity of his ; for it begets neghgence towards his talents, and that negligence enables him to ac- quire advantages which the creature, by a curious instinct, somehow uses in a way that is positively commanding, but which, in any other individual, would be downright and intolerable presumption and impudence."" After this the conversation became light and general, all further allusion to the separation be- ing studiously avoided. The Earl occasionally, however, spoke of his intended journey next morn- ing to Chastington-Hall ; but, as if there was 262 CHAPTER XXVIII. > something unhappy associated with tlve idea, he f " as often hastily embraced another topic Before - Mordaunt left him, he gave orders for the carriage .' ■ to be ready at an t;uiiy hour, to conve} him from t ■ town. •*' " I have long thought," said he, ir bidding Mordaunt farewell, " that excellence was a very '< , modest ingredient ; but I had no conception that wisdom lurked in so strange a form as in that crea- ture Wyli€. Therefore, I would advise yoTi to -.>: < trust him ii. your conjugal affair ; and if he do Sa you service, which, from his acuteness, I am sure sioi he may, you will not neglect to reward him. I wh wish that I liad noticed his true character sooner." bar 1 mo Qu tur att( clai r ' tal. cro^ ron cen JHE FAMILY MANSION'. SOS J idea, he !. Befort' le carriage hiip from r bidding jrsis a very tption that I that crea- ise you to i if he do I am sure d him. I er sooner/' . CHAPTER XXIX. THE FAMILY MANSION. CitASTiNGTON-HALL, the principp' qeat of the Saudyford %mily, was one of those Imc old man- sions, which are only to be seen in England, and which combine, with the antique grandeur of the baronial castle, the che( -ftil conveniences of the modern villa. It was erected in the latter part of Queen EHzabeth's reign, when the airy mnnacles, turrets, and tracery of the Gothic style were first attempted to be assimilated to the S) iiimetry of classic architecture. The t rt-yard was entered by a stately por- tal, surmounted i,y a clock in a templar edifice, crowned with a dome, in the form of an earl's co- ronet ; and the quadrangle of the court, in the centre of which a marble fountain threw up wa- M;' ' ■ S64 CHAPTER XXIX. ter, from the shellH of mermaids and tritons, wan surrounded by an arcade. Numerous doors opened from this arcade to the lower range of apartments, and a spacious marble staircase, richly adorned with allegorical paintings, in the taste of Charles the Second's time, ascended from the court to splendid suites of galleries and chambers, all fur- nished in that costly and massive style which ac- corded with the formal pageantry of the magnifi- cent courtiers of the Stuarts. The situation was chosen with admirable taste and judgment. The mansion occupied the summit of a gentle rising ground, in the middle of an ex- tensive park, naturally commanding a wide ex- pansive prospect ; and the approach was by a su- perb avenue of beech ti-ees, which seemed to droop their branches in salutation, as their master, to- wards the close of the day, was driven rapidly to- wards the portal. The Earl had never before visited this princely place, and, of course, it had suffered by his ab- sence ; although the servants had preserved every thing as well as it could be preserved, without re- pairs and renovations. It had, therefore, in some 3 ^^^ ^> PiiotogTdphic Sciences Corporation A^ # ><% i\ ^v *,» ^9, !^ ;\ k ■^""La^ ^3 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 '"V^^^^^ V ^ //,. "^^ i/.A f/x ® 278 CHAPTEE XXX. tnentatibn ^.n the neighbourhood, for the fine old trees of Chastington, «^as changed mto rejoicing, and all the visitors declared their delight and sa- tisfaction at the improvements. But although, in this manner, the Earl for some time created not only amusement, but busi- ness for himself, there was a sameness in the un- dertaking, and a patience requisite, which did not exactly suit the ardour and activity of his charac- ter, and he had recourse to other means of recrea- tion. Hiaving prescribed their work to the wood- men, he resolved to wait the issue of the full ef- fect ; and in order that he might prevent his rest- lessness from preying on himself, he endeavoured to find pastime in changing the appearance of the state apartments, not by the expensive medium of repairs or upholstery, but by new arrangements of the paintings and sculpture, the china, and the cabinets ; but still there was something wanting. This also he found must become a subordinate concern — a matter of occasional recreation ; for it afforded none of that earnest exercise to the mind which he longed to obtain. At last he had re- NOBLE AUTHORSHIP. 279 course to the library ; and after a miscellaneous and cursory glance of the collection, he set him- self into a regular course of historical reading. To read was, with Lord Sandyford, to think. Every page that his eye travelled furnished some new association to his mind, till the most remark- able and striking incidents of general history be- came connected with the passing topics of his own time ; for the French Revolution was then raging in all its fury, and drawing into its destructive whirlpool the venerable institutions of successive wisdom and experience. The excitement which this systematic acquisi- tion of knowledge produced, operated to an imme- diate effect. His Lordship became dissatisfied with the inadequate policy by which it was attempted to suppess the natural issue of a long continued accumulation of moral impulses ; and actuated by the new light which he had acquired on the sub- ject of national mutations, began to write an his. torical view of the political effects of popular opi- nions. When he had finished this pamphlet, he was conscious that, however just his reflections, and 280 CHAPTER XXX. indisputable his facts, it was not, in point of style and arrangement, such as would do him credit in the character of an author. He was aware, that the habit he had acquired of contemplating every thing through an ironical medium, in some degree affected his reasoning even in his most serious moments ; and that he used terms and phrases in a recondite sense, not altogether understood by the generality of the public ; so that, while his taste, with respect to the composition of others, was remarkably pure and just, he feared that his own work might be considered as conceited in its diction, and deficient in that air of sincerity es- sential to produce effect. He therefore longed for the assistance of a literary friend to correct its in- congruities ; but there was no such being within the whole compass of all the adjacent parishes.. At one time he thought of writing to his book- seller in London to procure, and send to him by the coach, some one of those retainers of the press, who execute the editorial duties to new editions of old works ; but he had early taken an anti-social prejudice against authors and artists in general, and could not endure the thought of having his NOBLE AUtHOMHIP. m. sequestration disturbed by the caprice of being», whom he considered as sorely skinless to every thing that but seemed to interfere with their vani. ties. Pubhsh, however, he must ; he felt himself urged to it by the very hand of Fate itself, and he could not resist the force of a necessity that was as irresistible to him, as if he had been the hero of a Greek or German tragedy, yeai-ning to com- mit a crime. In this dilemma he thought of our hero, of whose prudence he had begun to entertain a favourable opinion, and wrote to hhn to find some clever literary man, who would undertake to prepare 4 pamphlet for the press ; saying, that he would pay Hberally for the assistance, but that he wished to remain unknown. • Andrew was at first not a little perplexed l^ the Earl's commission. He knew no author, nor was he in habits of intercourse with any one who did ; till recollecting Nettle, the reporter, he re- solved to apply to him, with a previous determi- nation, however, not to employ him in the busi- ness. Accordingly, the same afternoon in which he received his Lordship's letter, he went to the .1 282 CHAPTER XXX. newspaper-office, under the pretext of inquiring of Nettle, if he knew of any person who would take charge of a small parcel to Scotland for him. No visit was ever better timed ; it was exactly at the wonted hour whan Nettle usually went to his chop-house for dinner ; and Andrew, while speaking to him respecting the httle packet he had to send to his grandmother, said, " But, Mr Nettle, if ye're gaun to seek your dinner, it's just my time too, and maybe ye'U no object to let me go with you.'' Nettle was not a little pleased with the propo- sition ; for, possessing a strong relish of drollery, Andrew was a character that could not fail, he thought, to furnish him with some amusement. " But," rejoined our hero, when he found his company accepted, " ye'U no tak me to an extra- vagant house — ^no that I mind, mair than my neighbours, to birl my bawbee at a time, but in ilka-day meals, I am obligated to hae a regard for frugality." Nettle profited by the hint, and took Andrew to one of the best coftee-houses in the neighbour- hood. Our hero perceived his drift ; but he also I^'OBLE AUTHOESHIP. SSS thought to himself, " this is an occasion when I should birl my bawbee."" However, upon entering the room he feigned great alarm, and catching hold of his companion earnestly by the arm, said, ** Noo, Mr Nettle, I hope this house is no aboon half-a-crown. Od, Mr Nettle, I dinna like the looks o't— I doobt the folk that come here drink wine.'" • Nettle laughed, and seating himself at one of the tables, said, " Don't be frightened, Andrew ; leave the matter to me — I'll manage every thing in the most economical manner." " Mind it's on condition ye do sae that I sit doun," replied our hero, seemingly very awkward- ly affected by the appearance of the company around, as if a young man, who was in the prac- tice f frequenting the tables and parties of the most fashionable houses, was likely to be discon- certed by the migratory visitants of a coffee-house. But he perceived that the reporter was uninformed as to this, and his object was to make this man of the town subservient to his purposes. Dinner was ordered by Nettle, who, while it was setting down, said drily, " It is usual, you '1 L t. .. 284 CHAPTER XXX. know, to have a bottle of white wine during din- ner ; but as we are on an economical regimen, I will only order a pint/' " I never ordered a pint o' wine since I was bom,'' cri«d Andrew to Nettle, who immediately said, " O very well, I have no objection— Waiter, bring a bottle." Our hero was here caught in his own snare, and exclaimed, with unaffected sincerity, " A whole bottle T Nettle was exceedingly diverted, and laughed at his own joke, especially when Andrew said, as the wine was placed on the table, " This is what I ca' a rank shame ;'' but he was much less dis- pleased than he pretended, and cunningly added, *^ I'm thinking that this trade of translating and writing paragraphs of yours, Mr Nettle, is no an ill line, an a body could get weel intil't, and had a name. 11 " I think," replied Nettle, delighted with his companion, " that you ought to try your hand, Andrew. I'm sure any thing from your pen must amuse the public." NOBLE AUTHORSHIP. 285 • " Hooly, hooly," cried Andrew ; " a' in a gude time, Mr Nettle — I hae my notions on the subjec, but we maun creep before we gang — only there's a curiosity in the craft that I dinna weel under- stand ; and that is, how to correc the press, and to put in the points, wi' the lave o' the wee pre- jinkities ; that, I hae a thought, is no an easy con- cern."" " As to the wee prejinkities, as you call them, and matters of that sort, the printers take a great part of the trouble off the author's hands. But the plagiv; is with the substantial matter, Andrew; Refects in that are not so easily remedied.'' " But purely they can be remedied .?" exclaim- ed our sly simpleton. Nettle was mightily pleased with this sally, and said, " Andrew, when your book's ready to print, let me know, and I'll give you a lift in that way." " It's very discreet o' you to offer sae ; but is't true that there are folk in London wha mak a lee- ving by sic like wark ?" '* True !" cried Nettle. " How do you suppose the speeches of members of parliament are got up for publication— the voyages and travels of coun* !Ji! S86 CHAVTER XXX. txy gentlemen — novels of ladies of fashion — or any of the other et cetera by which illiterate opulence seeks to obtain literary renown ?^ " Weel, this London is a wonderful place,*" re- plied Andrew ; " and are there really folk that do thae kind o* jobs for siller ?" " To be sure there are ; and they make a snug thing of it."*' " Noo, Mr Nettle, that's what I canna compre- hend. Hae they shops or offices ? — Whar do they bide i^ — And how are they kent ? — They hae nae signs up ? — What's their denomination ?'' " It's not easy to answer so many questions in a breath," replied Nettle ; " but I could name you fifty. There, for example, is oui own countryman, Mole, he makes a thousand a-year by the busi- ness." " Weel, to be sure, how hidden things are brought to light ! I ne'er," exclaimed Andrew, " could fathom by what hook or crook he was lee- ving, nor whar he Jeeves. — Whar is't .?" Nettle told him ; and Andrew, inwardly over- joyed, proposed to drink his health, as a credit to Scotland, in a bumper, although the cloth was not removed. KOBLt: AUTHORSHIP. 28T " Stop, stop, man ; it's not yet time ; let us have the table cleared before we begin to toasts," said Nettle, laughing at Andrew^s supposed nistic simplicity. Our hero then inquired what books Mole had edited and prepared for the press ; and in what degree of estimation they were held. Nettle told him the names of several ; but Andrew afTected to doubt the truth of what he said, and alleged that they were perhaps not at all of that degree of merit which his companion asserted. This be- got something like a difference of opinion between them, which ended in the reiteration of Nettle's assertion, and an affirmation that the pubhshers would verify the correctness of what he maintain- ed. Andrew, however, did not urge the matter further. He had thus adroitly acquired the name and address of an able editor, and the names of the booksellers by whom he was employed. He had, in consequence, nothing further to say to Nettle that evening ; and, accordingly, pushing the wine-decanter past him, he rose to go away, saying, " Vm no for ony mair." « Sit down," cried Nettle, " and finish the wine. The port hert is excellent.'' IPid mm 288 CHAPTER XXX. " Yc woulilna liae me surely, Mr iN-ettle, to Bit till Fm taver't ? As aureus deatli, I fin' tlie wine rinnin in my liead already— FU be fou, if I drink ony mair. No ; ye maun just let mc gang my ways. Yell pay the reckoning ; and if it dinna exceed five shillings, I'll no grudge the cost o' your conversation, which has been vera curious and agreeable—vera curious indeed, Mr Nettle. But gude night C and in saying this, Andrew hurried from the house. Mis first course was to the shop of Mole's prin- cipal publisher, where he inquired for one of the books ; and upon seeing it, he looked into several passages, as if he had been examining them criti- cally, and said, ♦* I diiina think, now, that this is a very weel-written work.'' The bookseller was a little surprised at the re- mark ; but as booksellers are accustomed to see wise and learned characters in very queer and odd shapes, he gave Andrew credit for some critical acumen, while he controverted his opinion, main- taining the merits of the style and composition as both of the first class. Andrew, however, stuck to his point, and finaUy declined to purchase the work; satisfied, however. 6 that the publisher had NOBLK AUTHOnSHIP. ^9 * liigli opinion of it« literary merits. On leaving that shop, he went to another, and another, until he found the opinion of Nettle fully verified. He then proceeded to the chambers of Mole, whom ho found at home, and whom he thus addressed, al- tliough they had no previous acquaintance : — " Mr Mole, I hae a bit turn o' wark that wouldna be the war o' your helping hand." This abruptness startled the engineer of litera- ture ; but as he had seen the unlicked figure of Andrew at some of the fashionable houses, where he occasionally helped to make sensible speeches for the gentlemen, he divined, in some degree, the object of his visit, and civilly requested him to be seated, saying, « Pray, may I ask the nature of the business .?" " It's a kind p' a book tliat I hae a thought anent ; but no bemg just as I could wish, in some resi)ects, so particular in the grammaticals, I think, tliat before putting it out to the world, it wouldna be the waur o' being coll'd and kaim't by an expe- rienced han' like yours." " Have you the manuscript with you .?" inqui. VOL. I. N i.;st ^11 Kll 200 CKAl'TER XXX. red Mole, endeavouring to look as serious as pos • sible. " No, sir ; I wuntit first to ken if you ivould undertake the work."" " That wilL in some degree, depend on the na- ture of the subject, and the amount of the remu- neration,'" replied Mole. " Do you mean simply that I should revise the manuscript, or re-write the work entirely ?''"' " I mean that ye re no to hain your ability in the business ; but what I want to ken is the cost —supposing now the vera utmost, and that ye were to write it all over again — what would you expect ?"" " You will not grudge to pay me at the rate of ten guineas a pica sheet octavo ?"" " I'm no versed in your trade ; but let me sec a book that you would mak your ell-Wand, and Fll maybe can then make a guess at the estimate/' An octavo volume, printed on pica type, was pro- duced, and the extent of a sheet explained to him. " Dear me,"" he cried, " but this, sir, is a dreadfu' price — ten guineas for doing the like o' that — Na, na, sir, I couldna think o' mair than five pounJ ; NOBLE AUTHORSHIP. 291 and if ye gie satisfaction 111 try to make it gui- neas. , In the end, however, a bargain was made, by which it was agreed that the manuscript was to be submitted to the architect ; and if entire re-edifi- cation was found requisite, the remuneration was to be at the rate of seven pounds ten shillings. Mole pleaded earnestly for guineas, but Andrew declared he could by no possibility afford a far- thing more. The same evening he wrote to Lord Sandyford, tliat he had found a friend with some experience in the book-making line ; and that if his Lordship would send up his manuscript, per- haps he could get him to undertake the job ; but that he was a particular man, and very high in his price ; which was commonly at the rate of ten gui- neas the sheet of pica demy octavo. Neverthe- less, he assured his Lordship he would try and get it done on as moderate terms as possible. ' The Fari knew as little of pica demy as An- drew himself, nor did he care. The manuscript was sent by a special messenger to our hero, wlio lost no nme in taking it to Mole, by whom it was cursorily glanced over in his presence. 292 CHAPTER XXX. Mole was struck with the composition, and the general elegance of taste and imagination that scin- tillated in many passages ; and he said to Andrew, with a sharp and an inquisitive look, "Is this your work ?" < " It"'8 what I spoke to you anent. I'm think- ing it^s no see bad as ye expectit.'" " Bad!" exclaimed Mole; " it is full of the finest conceptions of a masterly genius. This i« inspiration — I am utterly astonished." " It's a great pleasure tome, sir," said Andrew, diyly, *' that ye're so weel satisfied *wi't. I trust it will make you abate something in the price." " We have made an agreement, and the terms must be fulfilled. I cannot say that the work will require to be entirely re-written. The material is precious, and wrought beautifully in many pas- sages ; but it may,.nevertlieless, reqmre to be re- cast. " Then," said Andrew, " since ye like it so well, I'll pay the seven ^ound ten per sheet, pica demy octavo, but no a single farthing mair, mind that; for if you baud me to the straights o' the bar- gain, I'll just be as severe upon you. So a' that NOBLE AUTHORSHIP. 293 I hae to sae for the p: asent is the old bye-word, * they that do their turn in time, sit half idle- yell make what speed ye dow."* " The admiration of Mole was rather increased than diminished when, after the departure of our hero, he read the manuscript more leisurely. He deemed it utterly impossible that a being so un- couth could have written such a work ; but he had been told, when he first observed his odd figure in society, that he was a creature of infinite whim and fancy ; and the manuscript was still more cal- culated than this account to set all theories of phy- siognomy at defiance. As for Andrew himself, he exulted in the bar- gain, and at his own address in suppressing, in the first instance, the rate at which he had agreed the revision should be made. But the effect intended by informing the Earl that the price was to be seven pounds ten shillings per sheet, instead of ten gui- neas, faihd entirely in one respect ; for his Lord- ship was no further satisfied with the bargain, than as another proof of the simplicity and integrity of his agent ; at least it so appeared in the sequel; for when the manuscript was recast and sent back to V li\'-iiJ -j';'8V's . '■}■;' 294» CHAPTER XXX. .ZjM. Chastington-hail, he remitted a hundred pounds £or JVIole, which was nearly double the sum stipula- ted. Andrew, in taking the money to him, said, " Ye'll find, sir, that I'm no waur than my word ; there'^s a hundred pound note ; and as for the ba- lance, ye'U just keep it to buy a snufF-box or ony ither play ock that may please you better." This liberality was, to the amazed reviser, still more extraordinary after the higgling he had suf- fered, thaii oven the intellectual merits of the pam- phlet ; and in all companies afterwards, he spoke of Andrew as an incomprehensible prodigy of ge- I i nius. 4f A SECRET EXPEDITION. 295 CHAPTER XXXI. A sechet expedition. In the meantime, the situation of Lady Sandy- ford at Elderbower with the Dowager was far from yielding any consolation to her mortified spi- rit ; for although the conduct of the old lady was truly exemplary, there was yet a sadness in her kindness that penetrated the heart of the Count- ess with anguish. The mother-lady was constant- ly picturing to her own imagination the regular and gradual ruin of her only and darling son— he who had been the pride of her maternal heart, the joy of her widowhood, and the glory of her expec- tations. No complaint escaped her, but number- less little accidental expressions betrayed the secret perturbation of her spirit ; and more than once she S96 CHAPTER XXXI. earnestly urged the young Countess to allow her to write to the Earl, and to invite him to Elder- bower. The first time that the Dowager clearly express- ed tlus wish, was one day after dinner. The wea- ther out of doors was raw and gloomy--<-an un- usual depression had all the morning weighed up- on the spirits of both the ladies ; and the Count- ess began to distrust the power with which she supposed herself capable of adopting a new frame and course of life, that would one day extort the admiration of her lord, and revive that aiBfection which she had lost, not forfeited. The old lady eagerly urged her suit ; affirming that it was im> possible her son could have fallen so entirely from the original magnanimity of his nature, as to slight an endeavour to recover his esteem, which had all the energy of contrition, with the grandeur of vir- tue. " Believe me, Lady Sandyford,'' exclaimed the partial mother, " that if he knew the depth of your sorrow at the misfortune that has come upon you both, there is nothing within the reach (tf his power and abihty, that he would not exert to console you."" ".,..'. A SECBET EXPEDITION. 297 4< The Countesg burst into tears, and replied, Alas i my dear mother, in what is this to end ? I am conscious of my innocence. I know that I have never swerved from the purity of a wife ; but I have failed to retain the affections of my hus- band ; because, in the lightness of youth, and the intoxication of vanity, I was more gratified with the loquacious admiration of those whom I in re- ality despised, than with the quiet and placid te- nor of his affection. My eyes are opened to my error — they have been opened by the consequences —vexation for my disregard may have irritated him into many of those follies that both your La- dyship and I deplore, and may have to mourn all the remainder of our lives. But what I now most immediately suffer, is the grief of knowing, that while I am here you have the monitor of your af- fliction constantly before you ; and, alas ! I can- not go away without giving some warranting to the evil report of the world." " But why will you not allow me to tell George the state of your feelings, and leave it to himself to determine whether he will come to Elderbower or not ?" n2 lb ^^ CHAPTER XXXI. The DoTvager, in saying this, took the Count- ess gently by the hand, adding, " Indeed, my dear Augusta, you are i^rrong in this — ^you are sa- crificing yourself—you are distressing me ; and I fear you may have cause to rue the effect on George.'' Lady Sandyford dried her eyes, and said, "Ah, I fear your Ladyship thinks of him as if he wa^s still a boy ! You are little aware of the latent strength of his character ; nor was I, till reflecting on many things since I came to this house. What- ever his faults or his errors may be, meanness is Tiot one of them. Nothing would be so easy as to bring him here, o it of compassion ; but I cannot be an object of compassion to the man I love. The ▼ery virtue of his generosity takes th j nature of a ^ce towards rne, and I dare not appeal to it.'' She could add no more — the tears rushed into lier eyes; and she wept so bitterly that the old lady became alarmed, and -said, " This, Augufita, ts what I did not look for from you. Let us drop the subject. But I will write to George ; and without saying you are with me, I w31 inquire rnv to the circumstances, as they may have affected A SECRET EXPEDITION. 299 him, by which your separation has been produced — an event of which I am totally unable at pre- sent to form any jwoper opinion.^ In the course of the same afternoon, the Dow- ager wrote to the Earl, believing he was still in London ; and while engaged with her letter, the Countess went to her own room, where Flounce was notably employed in distributing her Lady's wardrobe from the trunks. The box which be- longed to the mother of the orphan was standing on the floor ; and Flounce, two or three times, be- fore she excited any attention towards it, express.- ed her wonder about what it could contain. At last, however, she was successful ; — the eyes of the Countess were directed towards the package ; and her mind becoming disengaged from the passion of her own thoughts, her curiosity was awakened. , '*^ I think. Flounce," said her Ladyship, " we shoiild examme that box, and take an inventory of what it contains for the poor infant. The con- tents cannot be valuable ; but they may be such as to help the orphan at some future day to discover her relatione."" " I dare say they will,^ replied Flounce ; " and m - 1 fcf i 1 seo CHAPTER XXXIr I have my own reasons for thinking she will be found to have come of very great people in foreign parts. Does not your Ladyship recollect what delightful car-rings were in her mother's ears ?"*• After some discussion respecting the means of satisfying this, as to whether a hammer was requi- site, or the poker might serve, it was agreed that the assistance of the latter potentate should be first summoned, and if unsuccessful, the hammer might then be invited to take a part in the busi- ness. The poker, however, proved, in the stre- nuous hands of Flounce, abundantly effective— the lid of the box was wrenched open, and the contents exposed to view. The first sight presented nothing remarkable. It consisted of different articles of female finery, neither of a very high, nor, as Flounce truly ob- served, of a very prime and fashionable quality ; but, on exploring the mine, a small casket was found ; it was seized by her Ladyship, and open- ed in haste, while Flounce stood the figure of won- der by her side. The contents, however, were not of any particular value ; but among them was the miniature of a gentleman, which the Countess I A SECRET EXPEDITION. 801 will be foreign ct what ears ?"* leans of is requi- red that ould be hammer he busi- the stre- iective— and the larkable. e finery, truly ob- quality ; sket was nd open- g of won- er, were them was CountesK I recognized as that of Mr Ferrers. A letter ^7m also found from Ferrers, written in such imper- teet Italian as men of fashion are in the practice of addressing to the virgin train of the opera and ballet. It was not, however, either of a very amo- rous or amiable kind, for it seemed to be the die- missal from his protection of the unfortunate mo- ther. The first movement which the perusal produ- ced in the spirit of the Countess, was not of the most philanthropic kind ; as for Flounce> she loud- ly and vehemently protested against all the male sect, at, slie called them, for a pack of infidel wretches. After various disquisitions on this discovery, it was agreed, that, under existing circumstances, it would be as well for the present to say nothing in the house about it ; but that Flounce should re- turn to the Hose and Crown, and explain to the landlady, in confidence, the relationship of the child, and urge her to take the necessary meana to acquaint; the father of Monimia's situation. This was a charming mission, and exactly suit- m it m n ^i fim THAPTEll XXXI. ed to the genius of Mounce, who accordingly went off* next day by the London coach, which passed tlie gate of Kiderbower ; and that the servants miglrt not be wondering and giiesRing as to the ohjects of her journey, she prudently deemed it expedient to inform them that she was g6ing' to town to bring some additions to her liady'n war- drobe. The landlady of the Rose and Crown received her with great cordiancy ; but when, after many solemn injunctions, Flounce disclosed the object of her visit, Mrs Vintage coolly said, she w-window in Elderton the most beauti^l baby-linen, advising her Lady to purchase a sup- ply for the poor dear little creature, just in cha- rity, although it was not a legitimate. The Countess consented to this, and gave the requi- site money. , „ , Flounce was not one of those foolish virgins who slumber and sleep in their tasks ; on the con- trary, she could never rest till her work was done, especially if it was a business seasoned with any species of adventure, or of mystery. Within less than two hours after her return, she contrived to sUp out alone, and to purchase the articles she wanted. These she directed herself for Mrs Peony ; to whom she also wrote on the subject in the shop where slie had bought them, and carried the par- cel in her own hands to the London coach-ofHce at the Nag's-head, and saw them booked with her own eyes, all in the most commendable spirit of faithful agency. .< strtf The purchase of fine baby-clothes in a small mftfket-t »;,-• (,:;: i;.;;-.j»>i5 o, fj>;i:-.-.vJ $08 CHAPTER XXXIT. *. • - "id CHAPTEH XXXII. A MYSTERY. Although the Eail had got his manuscript prepared for the press, as we have described, the publication was delayed 1^ the occurrence of a disagreeable incident. One morning, on reading the county-newspaper, he happened to observe the advertisement of a sale by auction of the furniture of Castle Hooksborough ; and among other things enumerated, was a qu^ixtity of china, said to have been the same which was used by James I. at hi* accession to the English crown. In the changes of his furniture, his Lordship wanted some addi* tional old china to complete an effect in one of the state-apartments ; and having nothing very parti- cular at the time to engage his attention, he de- termined to attend the sale of Ferrers'' effects, , A MYSTERY. 309 ..•Castle Rooksborough was, as we have already mentioned, situated near the Rose and Crown, tbout thirty miles from Chastington-hall. It was therefore, on account of the distance, in some de- gree necessary that his Lordship should remain there all night ; and being desirous that his mo- ther should not hear of his being so near her iieighbourhood— for Elderbower was but one stage 'oftl-lie resolved to go alone to the sale, that he might not be known by his servants. ^^ ^' '' * • It was late in the evening when he reached the ■ Rose and Crown, and nothing particular oecurred that night. Next morning, before the sale, lie ^ walked in the park of Castle Rooksborough ; and Although the air was clear and bracing, and the Spring sat in every boT^^er, crowned with her gayest ' garlands, there was something in the scene and ; circumstances which did not altogether tend to exhilarate his spirits. The estate was dilapidated by a spendthrift possessor, and ordered to be sold, ' with all the moveables, by his creditors. It had been for ages in the possession of the prodigal's an- cestors ; *nd a general murmur prevailed through- iM i'S 310 CHAPTER XXXlf, out the county agciinst tlic unhappy man's indis- cretions. The reflections which these things pro* duced sank into the heart of Lord Sandvford, and placed his own conduct in a mortifying Hght be* fore him. ' ': As he was straying over the grounds, he fell in with a young country-girl carrying a child. The brilliant dark Italian eyes of the infant attracted his attention ; and the style in which it was dressed, so much above the appearance of the nurse, indu- ced him to stop and speak to her. The beauty of the infant won upon his affections, and his cu- riosity was excited to learn how a child, appa- rently better born, came to be entrusted to so young, and seemingly so improper, a nurse. The girl, however, could give him no satisfaction. All that she knew respecting it waL, that she had been hired by the landlady of the Rose and Crown to take care of it while it remained with Mrs Peony, who was employed by a grand lady to suckle it. There appeared to the Earl some mystery in this ; and when he had purchased the lot of china^ which he ordered to be sent to Chastington-hall, he returned to the inn to hold some conversation A MYSTKRY. 311 •with the landlady on the subject of Monimia, for •the child was that orphan. . Mrs Vintage of the Rose and Crown did not prove quite so communicative as he expected. She only civilly answered his questions, and said •no more than what a direct response required. •• " Do you know the parents of the child F said his Lordship. « They must be persons of some condition, I should think, by the dress of the in- fantr ' "• As to that, I cannot say ; I have never seen either of them. The mother is dead ; and as for tlie fatlier, I can give you no account of him." . " Then who in thi« neighbourhood pays the nurse .f*" " I do," rephed Mrs Vintage. '■ " And how are you repaid ?'' said the inquisi- tive peer. •••• *' I do not think I am bound to answer that question to a stranger," replied the prudent land- lady of the Rose and Crown. His Lordship finding that she was resolved not to satisfy his curiosity in a direct manner, and lier guarded answers having only served to whet his lii'Mi ■'^ Xl 312 CHAPTER XXKII. inqui8itiveness,he took another, and a more ingeni- ous course with her. He affected to let the topic drop, and began to question her about the neigh- bourhood, and the travellers of rank who had re- cently stopped at the house — a subject on which she delighted to expatiate. Among others, she mentioned the transit of the unfortunate Lady Sandyford in her father's carriage ; in speaking of whom there was a degree of embarrassment in her manner that strongly excited his attention. 'I'he sharpness of the Eaii's interrogatories in- creased her confusion ; and she contrived, in order to avoid the keenness of his questioning, to leave the room, just at the moment when she had led him to suspect that there was some mystery con- nected with the Countess and the child. The a^tation into which he was thrown by this conversation, is not to be described. He almost instantly ordered a post-chaise, and returned to Chastington-hall, burning with thoughts of sus- picion. At the first stage where he changed, he met Servinal, his valet, returning from London, where he had been sent on some business ; he had come back with the coach on which Flounce had 13 >■ A MYSTERY. 313 B ingeni- ;he topic e neigh- ► had re- m which lers, she te Lady speaking snient in jntion. ;ories in- in order to leare had led ;ery con- n by this e almost imed to J of sus- nged, he London, ; he had mce had travelled from Elderbower on her mission to Cas- tle Rooksborougli, and he heard of that damsel's secret expeditfon — she herself having told the coachman that she was Lady Sandy ford's maid. On seeing his master alight, and not being aware of the state of his feelings, Servinal informed his Lordship of that circumstance, wondering what business could have taken Flounce to the Hose and Crown. This was confirmation to all his Lordship's jealousy ; and when he resumed his chair at night in the library of Chastington, his very soul was boiling with indignation against the insolence, as he now deemed it, of the message which Sir Charles Runnington had brought from the Marquis. But suddenly, in the fury of his passion, the remembrance of the part he had him- self performed as a husband, came like a blast from the frozen ocean, and chilled his blood. The temper of his feelings changed. The Countess, in the youth and bloom of her bridal charms, rose in the freshness of his early fond- ness, and moved him to sorrow and remorse. All other feelings were absorbed in contrition, and he VOL. i, o !U 'M 311 CHAPTEtt XVr. vcpt with the profuse tears of lamenting cliild- hood. In an instant, liowever, the paroxysm took an- other tum, and he reflected on the sinceritv with which he liad loved, and how coldly his ardour liad been met ; how negligently his tastes and his predilections were regarded; and giving way again to the impulse of these reflections, he accused the (^ountess as the most insensible of women, — the most artful, perfidious and base, — and, starting from liis seat, rushed across the room, with des])e- ration in his looks, and his hands fiercely clench- ed and upraised. In that moment the door open- ed, and his mother entered. His surprise was inexpressible at her appear- ance, and still more, when, in pressing him to her bosom, and weeping on his neck, she said, *' Alas ! my unhappy boy, I did not expect to find vou in this condition."' The venerable matron, unable to repress her maternal feelings, when, by accident, she heard that he had retired from London to Chastington- hall, determined to visit him. Nor did the Countess oppose this natural solicitude. A MYSTElir. 315 g child- took an- ity with s ardour I and liis ay again used the en, — tlie starting ;h despe- j clencli- or open- appear- ; him to she said, xpect to >ress her tie heard stington- Countcss AVhcn tlie first reciprocity of affection was over, the Dowager took a seat heside her son, and cahn- ly remonstrated against the seclusion in which he had too suddenly shut himself up ; exi)re8sing her hope that the breacli between him and his wife was not irreparable. " What !" he exclaimed, " can you think mo able to submit to the degradation of respecting a flagrant adulteress ? I have such proof I have seen with my own eyes tlie living evidence of her guilt — (), let us speak of her no more, let her pe< risli in the unproclaimed infamy to which she has sunk !" The Dowager was thundersti-uck, and remained looking at him, and unable to speak. But when his agitation had in some degree subsided, she reco- vered her self-possession, and inquired to what circumstances and proofs of guilt he had alluded. This led to an account of his excursion, and to the supposed discovery he had made of Mo- nimia. The old lady could not credit the story, and expressed her suspicion of some mistake on his •M 316 CHAPTER XXXII. part, which had the effect of reviving all his in- dignant feelings. " Mother !" he exclaimed, " you do not know the woman — her whole soul is engaged with no- thing hut herself— She could never see attention shewn to any other, without considering it as something unjustly taken from herself— She ne- ver felt that her interests and affections were wed- ded to mine, but regarded them as distinct and pre-eminent — She worshipped no other god but herself— She made me feel, from the fatal day of our marriage, that there was nothing mutual be- tween us, that I was only subsidiary to her — Th(> sense of that discovery drove me to despair — a despair that wore the mask of pleasure to the world, while worse than ten thousand scorpions was stinging me at the heart. In all that wild and wicked interval, she calmly set herself out for adulation ; never once did she look as if she felt any apprehension for the issue of a career that she could not but see must terminate in ruin- Even in those hours of remorse and ennui, when one gentle wish from her might have recalled me A MYSTERY. 317 1 his in- ot know ivith uo- ittention ig it as -She ne- ere wed- inct and god but il day of itual be- jr— The spair— a 3 to the corpions hat wild f out for she felt •eer that 1 ruin — ui, when ailed me to myself, did ever any such pass the cold mar- ble of her lips ?^' " This will not do, George,^ interpwscd the Dowager, with an accent of entreaty and mode- ration. " This vehemence of feeling is not what the object deserves, if she is so unworthy as you have represented her. But calm yourself; it is possible there may be some misunderstanding or misconjecture in all that you have told me."" " There is neither conjecture nor misunder- standing in what I have felt,^ rq)lied the Earl ; " but let us drop the subject. — I am glad to see you p*- Chastington, and I will shew you, to-mor- row, the improvements I am making." In this abrupt way his Lordship changed the conversation, and, in the course of a few minutes, was almost as cheerful with his mother as if he had never given her any reasim to deplore his folly, nor had any to do so himself But determined in his awn mind to sift the matter thoroughly, since it was possible- there might be some mistake, he wrote the same evening to Mr Vellum, request- ing Wylie to be sent to assist him in the arrange- m M S18 CHAPTER XXXII. ment of some domestic concerns. He said nothing of the business for which he wished this assist- ance ; but allowed the Solicitor to imagine that it might be with reference to the papers and sug- gestions, which the Earl, a few posts before, had received relative to the state of his income and debts. The situation of the Dowager was most em- baiTassing. When she parted from the Countess, she had promised to return on the third day, or to write. But with the disagreeable news she had received, neither could properly be done. At the isame time, however, such had been the favourable light in which her daughter-in-law appeared, from the moment of her arrival at Elderbower, that she would not allow herself to entertain any thought derogatory from her honour. She expected that the Earl would have set out the next day to Cas- tle Rook'^borough again, to examine the mystery there more leisurely ; but he evinced no disposi- tion to do so. He merely said, after breakfast, that he had written to London for a young gen- tleman, whom he thought might be useful in I A MYSTEllY. 319 helping him to investigate the mystery of the child of the Rose and Crown ; *' For/' said he, gaily, " until we discover its parentage, we can assign it no better sire and dam." But if the arrival of his mother disturbed the monotony of the EarFs retirement, it was an event of delightful importance to the domestics at Chas- tington-hall. Mrs Valence exulted in the oppor- tunity which it afforded to her of displaying, be- fore so thorough a judge as her Ladyship, with what care, and in what perfect beauty she had peserved every article which had been committed to her charge ; nor was there a servant in the house who had not some voucher to produce of fidelity and vigilance. All received their due meed of dignified commendation, and all of them re- joiced in the greatness of that reward. Her arrival was also productive of other cheer- ful consequences to the household. The shyness with which the Earl received the visits of the neighbouring gentlemen, had, in a great measiure, suspended the intercourse that might otherwise have arisen ; but the elderly matrons in their fa- 320 CHAPTER XXXII. milies, who had been acquainted with tlie Dowa- ger in the time of her Lord, on hearing that she had arrived at Chastington, came flocking in crowds to see her ; so that, for a day or two, there was something hke a stir about the house. The presence of a Lady Sandyford at the Hall, was, indeed, like the spring; it drew out from their winter seats, as gay as tulips from their bulbs, all the ladies in the vicinity ; and many a sable gon of the church was seen slowly moving towards the portal, as sleek and as plump as the snails, that the genial influence of the season had induced to come abroad. Among other visitors, the Dowager was pleased to discover, in a little smart old man, in black satin inexpressibles, with sky-blue silk stockings,goldenbuckles,a white waist- coat, and a green coat, with his smirking face dap- perly set in a trim white tie-wig, Dr Trefoil, whom she had herself been chiefly instrumental in bring- ing into notice when a young man ; not, however, so much on account of his professional abilities, as for a certain dainty and pleasing method of treat- ing those little irksomenesses of the sex,, that are A MYSTERY. 321 often as afflicting to themselves and their friends as more serious diseases. The Doctor, in his youth, had been a beau ; indeed, his appearance bore incontestible proofs of that historical fact ; but, notwithstanding all the pretty little compli- ments which he was daily in the practice of pay- ing the ladies, he still remained a bachelor — and was now determined to die, as he said, a martyr to his humanity. For it seems the Doctor had, like many other sage and learned personages, be- come a convert to the Malthusian heresy, then recently promulgated, and was alarmed at the ha- zard we run of being elbowed out of the world, in spite of the faculty, war, pestilence, famine, and sud- den death. Scarcely had her old acquaintance offered his congratulations at seeing her Ladyship look so well, when, recollecting his delicacy and address, it immediately occurred to her that he might be a fit person to employ as an agent, in sifting the mystery connected with the birth of the child. — But it is necessary that we should revert to the state and situation of the young Countess, who, o2 « I 522 CHAPTER XXXTI. in the meantime, was left as dull as any lady of fashion could well be, that had actually happen- ed to suffer the enamel of her reputation to be damaged. A DISCOVEBY. 8«C oc! CHAPTER XXXIII. A DISCOVERY. 1 ' When the Countess heard that the Earl had, suddenly after her departure from London, also quitted the town and retired to Chastington-hall, her mind was seized with an unaccountable anxiety and apprehension. She ascribed the cause at firsts naturally enough, to his wish to avoid their mu- tual friends until the separation had blown over ; but when her father wrote that their house had been taken possession of by Mr Vellum, and that the establishment was broken up, she felt that a change indeed had taken place, as much beyond her control as it was above her comprehension. That Lord Sandyford should disentangle himself at once, and as it were by force, from all his town connexions, seemed to her a prodigy of which she 324 CHAPTEIl XXIK. couldformnojust estimate. She sometimes thought it was but the temporary resolution of a fit of spleen ; but she remembered, with a feeling to which she could assign no name, that he had often manife ed a decision and firmness that belied that care- lessness which she had considered as the strongest peculiarity of his character. The event interest- ed her curiosity as well as affected her sensibility; and she was glad when the Dowager proposed to visit him at Chastington. Nothing, however, could exceed ^:er chagriit, when, instead of the return of the old lady on the third day, according to her promise, she received a note, simply stating that it was the Dowager's in>. tention to remain some time at the Hall, and with^ out containing a single word on any other subject. This was even still more mysterious than the sud- den alteration in the conduct of the Earl, while it seemed to spring from the same cause. It grieved and it vexed her, and affected her best thoughts and calmest moments with inquietude and despond- ency. She felt sometimes as if she had been aban- doned to solitude and suffering ; and though con- scious that she had committed no crime to entail A DISCOVERY, 825 80 bitter a punishment, she confessed to herself that she had been perhaps too late in considering that the preservation of a husband's love is often the^most difficult, as it is always the most delicate duty of a wife. Wlien the Dowager had been absent four days, a servant came from the Hall to take some addition to her wardrobe ; and from him his unfortunate mistress heard that it was doubtful when she would return. She also learned that the Earl had. been informed by his mother that she was at Elder- bower. All this was incomprehensible, and turned her pillow into thorns. Flounce, who saw hei anxiety, and guessed something of her thoughts, exerted her utmost powers of talk and tattle to amuse her without effect ; at last she proposed they should make an excursion to see the orphan. " It is such a beauty,'' said Flounce — " has the most charming eyes — ^it will do your poor heart good to see the pretty dear. Besides, it is but twelve miles off— we can go there in the morning, and whisk hack to dinner with all the ease in the world." 320 CHAPTER XXXIII. The Countess was not in a disposition to con-. trovert the exhortation of Flounce; and according* ly a post-chaise was ordered, and the Lady, at- tended only by her waiting-gentlewoman, set oft' to visit the child of the Rose and Crown. The sale at the Castle had lasted several days, but it was all over before they arrived, and tlie mansion shut up. After amusing herself for a few minutes with the in&nt Monimia, whose beauty certainly did not appear to have been exaggerated by Flounce, the Countess strayed into the Castle-park alone, leaving Flounce to gossip with Mrs Peony. The day was remarkably fine for the season, and the spring was in full verdure ; but there was a solem* nity in the woods, all marked for the axe of the feller, and a silence in the venerable mansion, every window being closed — that touched the heart of the solitary with inexpressible sadness. She walk- ed round the walls, and looked for some time at a number of swallows, which, as if informed that the house would be long untenanted, had that mom- ning begun to build their nests in several of the window corners. A DISCOVERY. 327 As she was indulging the train of reflections which this little incident awakened, she saw a gen- tleman pass hurriedly across the lawn, and enter a small gate in the garden-wall, which she had not before noticed. His figure was familiar to her ; but the rapidity of his pace, and the intervention of the boughs of the shrubbery, prevented her from seeing him distinctly. There was something in his air and haste which startled her ; and a sentiment more deserving the name of interest than curiosity, led her to follow him to the gate which ht had left open. On look- ing in, she was surprised at the beauty of the gar- den, but her eye speedily searched around for the stranger ; — he was, however, nowhere to tfe seen. As she was standing with the door in her hand, she observed a puff of smoke rise from behind the corner of a conservatory ; and immediately after, the stranger rush from the same place, with a pis- tol in his hand. His appearance left her in no doubt that he meditated a desperate deed against himself; and prompted by the irresistible impulse of the moment, she darted forward and snatched the weapon from his hand. In the same instant 328 CHAPTER XXX5II. she recognized in him Mr Ferrers, the unfortunate owner of the Castle. He also knew her, and ex- claimed, " Gracious Heaven ! — Lady Sandyford here r A brief conversation foUow^ed. He declared himself utterly ruined — all his friends had desert- ed him, and he had none left but death — ^no home but the grave. Her Ladyship was excessively shocked ; she trembled from head to foot ; and still holding the pistol, implored him to desist from his dreadful intent. " Alas, madam !" cried the frantic man, " you may as well tell him who is expiring of a fever, not to die. Despair is my disease ; and I am as much its victim as the lazar that perishes of ma- lady in an hospital. I have stooped to beggary — I have scarcely refrained from crime ; but all has been of no avail. A curse is upon me, and misery in my blood. It is inhuman. Lady, to break thus upon the secret horrors of a dying wretch. Leave me — O leave me. Lady Sandyford, to my fate !" — And he made an effort to seuc the pistol again ; but she had the presence of mind, though agitated beyond the power of speaking, to plunge A DISCOVERY. 329 it into a por.d, where the gardeners filled their wa- tering-pans. Ferrers, on seeing this action, started back, and said in a voice that was seemingly calm, but aw- ftilly emphatic, " I have heard or read, that, sometimes in those black irwments when all chance of help deserts the hope and reason of man, Pro* vidence is pleased to manifest its power and watch- fulness — Has it sent you to save me from perdi- tion ?'■* — And in saying these words, he knelt and kissed her hand with the reverence and awe of adoration. In this crisis, the Dowager Lady Sandyford, leaning on the arm of Dr Trefoil, entered the garden ; but, on seeing this scene, immediately withdrew. The old Lady recognized her daugh- ter-in-law, and, without uttering a word, hurried back to her carriage, which stood at the entrance to the park. The Doctor, who was unacquainted with the Countess, made several attempts, as they has- tened back, to break the consternation of the Dow- ager, by joking on theii mal-intrusion ; but she fearfully silenced him by wildly shaking her head. 530 CHAPTKK XXXIII. On reacliJng the carriage, he handed her in, and then took a scat beside her. " Where shall we drive .''"'"' said the servant, as lie shut the door. " Home, home, home, to Chastington.'' The Countess, unconscious of the evil construc- tion that was perhaps naturally enough put upon the situation in which she liad been discovered, retreated from the impassioned gratitude of I'er- rers, ^d hastened back to the Hose and Crown, whore she Ijearned, with extreme vexation, that the Dowager Lady Sandyford had been there with a gentleman anxiously inquiring for the orphan. " I do believe," said the landlady, as she com- municated this news, " they have come from Chas- dngton on purpose, and I dare say they will be back presently ; for the nurse, with your maid, is walking in Rooksborough-park with the child, where they have gone to seek her. I happened to be out of the way when her Ladyship arrived, iJid she asked, I am told, very earnestly to see iiie. While they were speaking, the nurse, with A DISCOVERY. 331 Flounce and Moniniia, were seen coming quickly towards the inn. Flounce had recognized the car- riage and livery from a distance, and was hasten- ing to ascertain the cause of so unexpected a phe- nomenon, when she saw it drive suddenly away. The spirits of the Countess were exhausted hy the painful trial to which her feelings had been subjected ; a presentiment of misfortune op- pressed her heart ; and during the greatest part of the journey back to Elderbower, she seldom exchanged words with Flounce. They were in- deed half way before any thing occurred to move her from the melancholy abstraction into which she had fallen. It happened, however, that, on reaching the cross-roads, where the branch that led past Chastington diverges, they met the Lon- don coach, on the outside of which, covered with dust, sat our hero, on his way to the Hall. " As I live,'' exclaimed Flounce, " if there be not that Dutch nut-cracker, the Scotch creature, flying away on the top of the coach. Where can he be going to wink and twinkle, and snap his fingers, till he makes the sides ache again ?" " I wish;' said the Countess, " I had stopped 332 CHAPTEH XXXIII. him C and she added, with a sigh, " Can he be on his way to Chastington ?" She then relapsed into her melancholy reflections, thinking it probable the Karl was entertaining company, and had invited Andrew to amuse thera. " In what," thought she to herself, " is this singidar solitariness of mine to end ? Can it be possible that some one has poi- soned the ear of Sandyford, and that he has con- v^ted his mother to believe the suspicion. That vile paragraph he seemed to think true. Has the author of the maUgnant invention had access to him ? Can Sandyford condemn me without a hearing, without proof, without investigation ? — No matter, I will droop my head in secret ; and whatever may have been my faults hitherto — ^for all that heartlessness with which I have been so often taunted, perhaps justly — I may yet die of a broken heart. I feel that I can." While these painful reflections were vibrating in her mind,, the carriage arrived at Elderbower. •On alighting, she walked directly to the Dowa- ger''s parlour, where dinner was immediately ser- ved up. She felt herself, however, so much in- disposed, that, instead of sitting down to table, A DISCOVERY. 333 she retired to her own room, and surrendered her- self to the most desponding reflections. Bred up in the preserves of dignified opulence, she had never before seen the anguish of mental distress in any undisguised form, nor could she XiU then compre- hend the horrors which ruin and poverty present- ed to a mind of such a feverish temperament as that of Ferrers. Her life, till the occurrences arose of which we have been treating, had been one continued series of the most ordinary trans- actions that befall persons of her rank and condi- tion. She had passed from the fondling embrace* of the nursery, to the measured and circu^nspect regulations of her governess, and from these to the incense of public admiration, under the auspices of her accompHshed husband. She had never till now come into actual contact with the world, nor been once obliged to draw on those innate re- sources which she possessed within herself, against its malice, or the vicissitudes of fortune. She had heard of suffering and of sorrow ; had wept over afllictions described in novels, and sighed over sor- rows deplored in poetry ; but the real nature of either she had never known ; and what she felt for 13 ^u CIIATTEa XXXIII, the distress of the wretched Ferrers, was as new iu sensation as it was diaagreeable. While she was thus indulging her feelings, a messenger arrived from Burisland Abbey, her fa- ther's seat in that neighbourhood, with a letter from the Marquis, in which his Lordship ex*" ])ressed his regret, that she should have ex|K)sed herself to the mortification of being abandoned by the Dowager Lady Sandyford ; hoped she was in good health ; informed her that his own seat,»' Bre^onsbeild Castle, was in readiness to receive = her ; advised her to remove thither immediately,' and to write him what she wished done ; for that he was obliged to return to London on public bu-^ siness of the utmost consequence, the second read- ing of the County Prison Bill being fixed for the^ day following. f ,': •• T > ' ;■ • ■.* . The mind and feelings of the Countess were so much occupied with her own agitated reflections, that the style and contents of this paternal epistle did not at first make any particular impression, and she read it as Hamlet did the words. She saw the forms of the alphabet, the outlines of the page ; she knew the hand-writing, ^nd the sense A DISCOVERY, 535 floated before her ; but when she laid the paper on the table, the whole was forgotten, and she re- mained for some time ruminating and abstracted, till a flood of tears came to her relief When the emotion of weeping had subsided, her eye accidentally fell on her father's letter, and she immediately took it up, and read it again. The coldness of the language smote her heart, and she felt as if the barb of an icy arrow had penetrated her bosom, on reading the expression, *' Abandoned by the Dowager." V She rung the bell with an eager hand, and or- dered the carriage to be instantly ready for the Abbey. She drove thither in a state little short of distraction ; but, on arriving at the gate, was informed that the Marquis had three houi's before set off for London. She had still his letter in her hand, and her first thought was to proceed immediately to Chastington ; but, changing her determination, she unfortunately went on through the park to the Abbey, where she alighted, and -requested that one of the servants might immedi- ately prepare to go to the Hall for her, on busi- ness of the utmost consequence. Having given '* 336 CHAPTER XXXm. these orders, she wrote a note to the Dowager, m- closing the Marquis's letter, and simply request- ing an explanation of its contents. The groom was in readiness with his horse at the door, almost as soon as this brief note was sealed, and he instantly set off. He reached the Hall while the Dowager was dressing for dinner, after her return from the excursion with the Doc- tor, and the note was deUvered to her in her own roomi She read it hastily, and also that of the Marquis, and immediately folding them up in the a^tation of the moment, and with a trembling hand, she wrote two lines, simply saying, that the occasion of Lady Sandyford's visit to Castle Rooks- borough, and her clandestine interview with Mr Ferrers in the garden there, would sufficiently explain the reason of her abandonment. END OF VOLUME FIEST. Edinburgh: Printed by James Ballautyue and Co* jer, 111- equest- orse at te was led the dinner, le Doc- ler own of the ) in the mbling hat the Rooks- ithMr iciently