THE 
 
 CONFESSIONS 
 
 ELDERLY LADY.
 
 THE 
 
 CONFESSIONS 
 
 OF AN 
 
 ELDERLY LADY. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY EIGHT PORTRAITS, FROM HIGHLY 
 FINISHED DRAWINGS BY E. T. PARRIS. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 LONGMAN ORME, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, 
 PATERNOSTE R-ROW. 
 
 MDCCCXXXVIII.
 
 PRI.NTKD BY WILLIAM H'lLCOCKSON, ROLLS BUILDINGS.
 
 THE CONFESSIONS 
 
 ELDERLY LADY. 
 
 How interminably long the days are ! Though 
 broken by repasts, visits, airings, and reading, 
 still they creep on with leaden feet. Heigh-ho ! 
 It was not thus in the days of my youth. Then 
 the hours seemed to have wings, and flew away 
 so rapidly, that I often wished to retard their 
 flight. But every thing is changed ! The very 
 seasons are no longer the same ; and their pro- 
 ductions bear no more comparison with those 
 that I remember, than what shall I say ? 
 than the young persons, misnamed beauties, in 
 these degenerate days, do, with the lovely women 
 
 B
 
 Z THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 who were my contemporaries. Yes, the flowers 
 have lost their fragrance, the fruit its flavour, 
 and the vegetables taste as if created by some 
 chemical process. The newspapers, too, par- 
 take the general change; and are, for the most 
 part, filled with the movements of stupid lords and 
 silly ladies ; or the speeches of some demagogue 
 placarded into notice, by the praise of one party 
 and abuse of another. Parliamentary debates, 
 instead of displaying the magniloquent march of 
 sonorous words that were wont to charm my 
 youthful ears, rendering each speech worthy of 
 a place in that excellent work, entitled " Enfield's 
 Speaker," are now reduced to colloquies, quite 
 as familiar as if the debaters were seated round 
 their tables after dinner, and had only their 
 convivial guests, and not the nation, as audience. 
 To be sure, people did assert that Dr. Johnson 
 wrote the reported speeches, but so much the 
 better, say I; for they will stand as honorable 
 records of the abilities of my contemporaries, 
 when the world no longer remembers the rumour
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 3 
 
 of their Johnsonian parentage, and will form an 
 admirable contrast to the inflated common places, 
 or flimsy theories of the present time. 
 
 I have but one consolation for the degeneracy 
 of the age, and that consists in the conviction 
 that few records of it will descend to posterity. 
 People seem to loose all respect for the past; 
 events succeed each other with such velocity 
 that the most remarkable one of a few years 
 gone by, is no more remembered than if centuries 
 had closed over it. The present race seem to 
 think only of the actual minute. They are pro- 
 digals, who give no thought to their predecessors, 
 and no care to their successors. People were 
 not thus heartless in my youthful days but 
 every thing is changed ! 
 
 The magazines, too, how they are fallen off' ! 
 No longer do two interesting looking heads, 
 ycleped "A tete-a-tte" or "The fair deceiver, 
 and the enamoured Philander," meet the gaze, 
 initiating one into some recent morfeau of amusing 
 scandal. No the portrait of some would-be- 
 
 B2
 
 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 beauty, or modern author, stares one in the face, 
 endeavouring to look handsome, or clever, with 
 all her, or his, might; but as it is not often that 
 artists succeed in bestowing either of these ex- 
 pressions on their subjects, they are frequently, 
 as unkindly treated by art, as by nature. 
 
 Then the matter of these magazines how 
 infinitely inferior are they to those of my youth ! 
 Pretentious philosophical disquisitions on recent 
 discoveries in science sketchy tales, with shadowy 
 personages crude reviews on as crude literary 
 productions poems guiltless of thought and 
 a rechauffee of the events of the past month, as 
 insipid as rechaiiffees generally are. 
 
 The editors of the ephemeral productions to 
 which I allude, ambitious to contain in their 
 pages some attractive article, and knowing the 
 craving appetites of their readers for personali- 
 ties, dress up a forgotten anecdote, or obsolete 
 scandal, with the sauce piquant of inuendoes 
 and exaggerations: or else with tales professing 
 to treat of fashionable life, with characters that
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 5 
 
 bear no more resemblance to living ones, than 
 do the figures on which milliners and tailors 
 display their garments for sale. But their con- 
 clusions satisfy the crowd, who, unable to pene- 
 trate the sanctuaries of aristocratic life, cannot 
 judge of the coarseness and want of truth of the 
 pretended representations. 
 
 The study of history, I carefully eschew 
 for modern historians are all would-be-philoso- 
 phers ; who, instead of relating facts as they 
 occurred, give us their version, or rather per- 
 versions of them, always coloured by their 
 political prejudices, or distorted to establish 
 some theory, and rendered obscure by cumbrous 
 attempts to trace effect from cause. They tell 
 us not only what potentates, heroes, and states- 
 men said, or are imagined to have said, but also, 
 not unfrequently, favour us with what they 
 thought; though they do not quite satisfy us as 
 to the authenticity of the sources whence they 
 derived their information. Poetry I have been 
 compelled to abandon, ever since Byron de-
 
 6 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 moralized the public taste, by substituting passion 
 for sentiment ; and originated a herd of servile 
 imitators of all his defects, but who possess not 
 one ray of the genius that redeemed them. 
 
 Dryden, Waller, Pope, were the poets read 
 in my youth. Their lofty thoughts came to 
 us in as lofty diction, like the beauties of that 
 day, attired in their court dresses. Novels 
 were then an agreeable resource. Sir Charles 
 Grandison, Clarissa Harlowe how often have 
 I dwelt on your pages, my sympathy excited, 
 and my reason satisfied. Yes Richardson's 
 heroines were not only women, but, with the 
 exception of Pamela, they were gentlewomen, a 
 class that seems now to have passed away from 
 our modern novels, as wholly as they have from 
 society: a genus ycleped "ladies "being substi- 
 tuted, which no more resembles their dignified 
 progenitors, than the flimsy draperies of the 
 modern originals of these meretricious shadows, 
 do the substantial velvets and brocades in which 
 my stately contemporaries were attired.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 7 
 
 Times are indeed sadly changed ! Fashion, 
 a nondescript which, like Milton's allegorical 
 personification of death, has no definite shape, 
 has now usurped the place of decorum ; and, 
 like death, levels all distinctions. This same 
 fashion is a monstrous growth of these degenerate 
 days, which, like the idol of Juggernaut, often 
 crushes those who prostrate themselves before 
 her revolving wheel. It is the sworn foe to all 
 that is good and respectable ; and encourages 
 only the parvenus which spring up beneath its 
 unwholesome shade, as does the fungus beneath 
 that of some tree, whose deleterious moisture 
 gives it birth. 
 
 Well /, at least, have not bowed down and 
 worshipped this colossal idol. I have not left 
 the residence of my ancestors, because fashion 
 had proscribed its precincts, to become the neigh- 
 bour of some returned nabob, or retired bill- 
 broker, with no recommendation, save his ill- 
 acquired wealth. I have not dismantled my 
 mansion of its cumbrous, but richly carved
 
 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 furniture, to adopt, at a later period, a com- 
 position in imitation of it. No I saw the rage 
 for Grecian and Roman decoration pass by, as 
 calmly as I have since seen them replaced by 
 the angular ameublement of the melo-dramatic 
 Emperor of the French; and have lived to witness 
 the solid magnificence of the fourteenth Louis, 
 revived by those who are as incapable of com- 
 prehending, as of emulating the splendor and 
 abilities of that dignified model for kings, I 
 smile at beholding the ill-executed imitations in 
 the mansions of my acquaintance, of the costly 
 furniture which, from mine, has never been 
 displaced; while they would gladly purchase 
 back their ancestral possessions from the brokers 
 who have collected them to sell again at more 
 than thrice their original cost. 
 
 Yes, it is very satisfactory to my feelings to 
 witness the restoration of true taste in furniture, 
 at least; almost as much so as it was to see Louis 
 XVIII. restored to the throne of his forefathers, 
 whence his less fortunate brother has been
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 
 
 exiled. We have fallen upon evil days ; " the 
 march of intellect," as they call it, has been in 
 my opinion a triumphal march over the pro- 
 strated privileges of sovereigns, who dare no 
 longer consider their subjects as their unalienable 
 property, nor govern by the good old monar- 
 chical principle of " Je veux" 
 
 This, is a melancholy and an unnatural state 
 of things; but I console myself with thinking 
 that it cannot last, though, alas ! it bids fair to 
 endure my time ; consequently, I am somewhat 
 disposed to adopt the philosophy of the fifteenth 
 Louis, and exclaim " Apres nous le deluge" 
 
 I wish I had children, for I should in that 
 case, have had now around me a third genera- 
 tion of scions from the parent stem, who might 
 have loved me, and whom I might have loved ; 
 at all events, over whose destinies my fortune 
 would have given me an influence, and next to 
 loving, and being loved, is the pleasure of go- 
 verning. But this wearisome solitude, imposed 
 by age and infirmities, and uncheered by fond
 
 10 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 faces, or affectionate voices, it is hard to bear. 
 Nature has implanted in every breast the yearning 
 desire to be an object of sympathy and affection 
 to its fellow. The young feel it, but they feel 
 too, the glad consciousness of possessing the 
 power to excite, and repay the sentiment; while 
 the old are too well aware how unlovely is age, 
 not to distrust the appearance of an attachment, 
 they fear they are incapable of creating. They 
 become suspicious and peevish from this humi- 
 liating self-knowledge, and consequently less 
 worthy of the affection for which they yearn. 
 
 Every one now writes, and the occupation may 
 serve to amuse me, even though its fruits fail to 
 amuse others; and thus I who love to live in the 
 past, may borrow from it the means of rendering 
 the present less insupportable. Shall I then 
 take courage, make my confessions to the public, 
 and trust to it for absolution. It is an indul- 
 gent monster after all, which swallows much 
 that is bad. Why, therefore, should I fear it? 
 But who will read the confessions of an old
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 11 
 
 woman ? and in an age when every thing old, 
 except furniture, plate, and wine, is exploded ? 
 N'importe, if those only wrote, who were sure of 
 being read, we should have fewer authors ; and 
 the shelves of libraries would not groan beneath 
 the weight of dusty tomes more aluminous than 
 luminous. Yes, I will write my memoirs. 
 
 " Did your ladyship speak ?" asked that much 
 enduring woman, my dame de compagnie, one 
 of the most uncompanionable of that class of 
 persons denominated companions. My con- 
 science does sometimes reproach me for sundry 
 pettish reproofs, and petulant phoos and pshaws, 
 addressed to this modern Griselda, who " assents 
 to all I will, or do, or say," with a meekness very 
 trying to a temper like mine. She, however, is 
 at least ten years my junior, and will, in all 
 human probability, live to enjoy the comfortable 
 provision I have secured her in my will; thinking 
 perhaps that she has well earned it, by a twenty 
 years' daily and hourly practice of that difficult 
 virtue Patience.
 
 12 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Yes, I will write my confessions, and " naught 
 extenuate, or set down aught in malice." As a 
 proof of my sincerity, I shall record my dialogue 
 with my dame de compagnie. 
 
 " Mrs. Vincent, ring the bell, if you please 
 here, that will do ; you always ring it as if you 
 imagined the servants to be deaf." 
 
 " I beg your ladyship's pardon ; but, if you 
 will be pleased to recollect, you, this morning, 
 complained that I rang the bell so gently that 
 the servants never heard the first pull." 
 
 " Pray don't ask me to be pleased to recollect ; 
 I never am pleased to recollect such puerile 
 fiddle faddle. Your memory is so tenacious, 
 that you can quote every syllable I utter in the 
 course of a week." 
 
 It will be perceived by the malicious reader, 
 that in my petulance I was unconsciously com- 
 prising my own conversation within the con- 
 temptuous epithet of fiddle faddle. But whether 
 my unhappy companion was equally acute, I 
 cannot determine; for she was far too well dis-
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 13 
 
 ciplined to allow any indication of discovery to 
 be perceptible. 
 
 " Why don't you ring the bell again ? you see 
 no one has answered." 
 
 Enter John. 
 
 "And so, John, here has Mrs. Vincent been 
 ringing this last half hour. It really is too 
 provoking that none of you will answer the 
 bell." 
 
 " Very sorry, indeed, your ladyship; but I 
 only heard the bell once." 
 
 " There, you are convinced, Mrs. Vincent ; I 
 always tell you, that you do not ring sufficiently 
 loud ; I wish you would remember this another 
 time. Let me consider, what did I want. What 
 did I require, Mrs. Vincent ?" 
 
 " Indeed, madam, I do not know, your lady- 
 ship did not inform me." 
 
 " There it is, you never remember what 1 
 want ; it really is enough to vex a saint." 
 
 " I'm sure, madam, I am very sorry." 
 
 " So you always say, I hear nothing but 
 ' I beg your pardon,' and ' I am very sorry,'
 
 14 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 all day long. Place the easy chair with an extra 
 pillow before my writing-desk, wheel the desk 
 close to the window, and put a tabouret for my 
 feet. There, that will do. See that the pens 
 are good, the ink not too thick, and lay a quire 
 of foolscap wove paper on the desk; not that 
 abominable glazed paper which dazzles my eyes. 
 I intend to write, Mrs. Vincent, yes, to write a 
 good deal, unless it should fatigue me : so wipe 
 my spectacles. You had better remain in the 
 room, to see that the fire does not go out. You 
 can read, if you like it; but mind you do not 
 make a noise in turning over the leaves, you 
 
 i 
 
 know you have a trick of doing so. And re- 
 member, too, you do not make that disagreeable 
 sound to which you are much addicted, a sort 
 of clearing of the trachea, which is extremely 
 trying to my nerves. There again, Mrs. Vin- 
 cent, have I not told you a thousand times not 
 to give, way to that offensive habit of sighing. 
 I cannot bear it." 
 
 " I beg your ladyship's pardon, I am very 
 sor"
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 15 
 
 " Oh ! dear Oh ! dear, I never can say a 
 word to you, that you do not forthwith answer 
 me with ' I beg your pardon, I am very sorry.' " 
 
 " Indeed, madam" 
 
 " Don't say another word, spare my nerves ; 
 you know, or ought to know, that I detest ex- 
 planations." 
 
 If my readers are not disgusted with this 
 specimen of my irritability and egotism, I will 
 proceed with my task. 
 
 My first recollections point to Walsingham 
 Castle, where my happiest days were passed. 
 Well do I remember a certain dressing-room in 
 it that breathed the mingled odours of every 
 fragrant flower, odours ever since associated in 
 my mind with the memory of that chamber and 
 its inmate. Reclined in an easy chair, propped 
 by pillows, a fragile form draped in muslin of 
 a snowy whiteness, used to meet my gaze. A 
 pale but beautiful face, with large lustrous eyes, 
 whose tender expression is even now remem- 
 bered, used to welcome me with smiles. A soft 

 
 16 THE CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 delicate hand used to smooth my curls, and draw 
 me fondly to her heart ; and a low sweet voice, 
 that only uttered words of love, used to greet me. 
 Never can I forget the warm tears that often 
 fell on my face and shoulders, when strained in 
 the convulsive embrace of that lovely being. 
 
 " Why does mamma weep when she kisses 
 me ?" demanded I, one day, of the upper 
 nurse. 
 
 " You must not ask questions, Lady Arabella," 
 was the satisfactory reply; a reply that generally 
 met all the interrogatories I addressed to the 
 pragmatical Mrs. Sydenham. 
 
 Good Mrs. Mary, as I designated her assistant, 
 was less taciturn; and to my reiterated demand 
 of why mamma wept ? told me, with a deep sigh 
 and melancholy shake of the head, that it was 
 because mamma was going to leave me; and 
 was sorry. 
 
 " But she sha'n't go, if she does not like it," 
 answered I, with the wilfulness that even then 
 characterised me, " I won't let her go."
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 17 
 
 " Poor child," murmured good Mrs. Mary, 
 and a tear trembled in her eye. 
 
 The next time I entered the odorous dressing- 
 room, mamma appeared to me suffering more 
 than usual. Papa was sitting by her side, and 
 held one of her hands in his. She embraced me 
 fondly, and he took me on his knee. They 
 looked at me, and then at each other, with an 
 expression so piteous, that it reminded me of 
 good Mrs. Mary's explanation of mamma's tears, 
 and I uttered imploringly, " Do not go away, dear 
 sweet mamma, stay with papa, and Arabella." 
 
 She burst into a passion of tears, and my 
 father, too, became greatly agitated. 
 
 " Oh ! yes," resumed I, " good Mrs. Mary 
 told me you wept because you were sorry to go 
 away." 
 
 She sobbed in agony, and caught me to her 
 breast, and my father pressed us both in his arms. 
 
 I saw my mother no more in the fragrant 
 dressing-room ; but was afterwards taken a few 
 times to her bed-room, whence my father seldom
 
 18 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 moved. She looked paler than ever, and her voice 
 was so low, that it could only whisper; still it ut- 
 tered fond words, and sounded sweetly in my ears. 
 Every one moved so gently, and spoke so softly 
 in that room, that my steps only were heard; 
 the other persons glided about like shadows. 
 My father looked nearly as pallid as my mother, 
 and scarcely ever glanced from her; unless when 
 he turned to conceal the tears, that were con- 
 tinually springing to his eyes. 
 
 One day, I was sent for, and found my mother 
 supported by pillows, and her eyes half closed. 
 My father had been reading aloud to her; and 
 I heard her murmur, " Thy will, not mine, be 
 done, O Lord !" 
 
 He took me in his arms, and held me to her. 
 She pressed me faintly, but fondly; a few burning 
 tears fell on my face, and she pronounced, in 
 accents broken by the approach of death, a mo- 
 ther's last blessing. I, too, wept, though, alas ! I 
 knew not then what bitter cause I had for tears : 
 and when my father offered to withdraw me from
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 19 
 
 her fond embrace, I clung passionately to her. 
 At this moment, the clergyman was announced: 
 she relaxed her hold of me, and I was taken from 
 the chamber violently sobbing. 
 
 I remember, that when I reached the door, I 
 looked back, and caught her tearful eyes strained 
 to see me to the last. What agony was then in 
 their expression ! 
 
 I never saw my mother again, for she died in 
 two hours after I was torn from her. To this 
 early bereavement of the truest, tenderest friend 
 that youth can ever know, I attribute all the 
 errors of my life. 
 
 The next day, and the following one, I asked 
 repeatedly to be taken to mamma. Mrs. Syden- 
 ham looked grave, said it could not be ; and good 
 Mistress Mary wept, and, though always affec- 
 tionate to me, appeared still more so, notwith- 
 standing that Mrs. Sydenham more than once 
 reprimanded her, and sternly desired her not to 
 spoil me. 
 
 In a week after, I was dressed in black, and
 
 20 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 noticed that all the household was similarly clad. 
 I objected to this change in my dress, and said 
 that mamma would not like my ugly black frock, 
 as she was only fond of pretty white ones. This 
 remark produced a few more tears from good 
 Mistress Mary, who was again rebuked by Mrs. 
 Sydenham, for being, as she termed it, always 
 whimpering. I had an instinctive dislike to the 
 upper nurse, and a preference to Mary, whose 
 tears, though I knew not their source, soothed me. 
 The next day, the sounds of many carriage 
 wheels, and the champing of steeds, drew me to 
 the window of my nursery, which overlooked the 
 court of the castle. I clapped my hands in 
 childish glee, when I saw the cortege decked 
 with nodding plumes, that moved slowly and 
 proudly along. 
 
 " Where are all these fine carriages going ?" 
 asked I, " and why are so many of them black ?" 
 " They are taking away your mamma," an- 
 swered Mary, as well as her tears and sobs would 
 allow her.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 21 
 
 I, too, began to weep, exclaiming that they 
 should not take my own dear, sweet mamma 
 away; but the cortege continued to advance, 
 until the last nodding plume vanished from my 
 tearful sight, and I sank on the bosom of good 
 Mary, exhausted by my sorrow. How silent 
 was the whole castle ! Not a sound was heard 
 save the tolling of the church bell, that came 
 booming on the ear from the distance, or the 
 chimes of the great clock, as it marked the flight 
 of time. 
 
 The gloom chilled me, and yet it was in uni- 
 son with my feelings ; for though too young to 
 comprehend the misfortune that had befallen me, 
 a mysterious sympathy seemed to render silence 
 and sorrow congenial to me. 
 
 The following day, my father sent for me. 
 I found him in the library, so pale and care 
 worn, that, young as I was, the alteration in his 
 appearance struck me forcibly. He was clad in 
 deep mourning, and his eyes indicated that tears 
 had lately been no strangers to them.
 
 22 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 I rushed into his arms and wept as I hid my 
 face in his bosom, to which I fondly nestled, as I 
 had been wont to do to the maternal one. He 
 dismissed the attendant; and as he bent his 
 head over mine, I felt his tears fall on my hair 
 and neck, and heard the deep sighs that heaved 
 his breast. 
 
 " You weep, dear papa," said I, " because my 
 own sweet mamma is gone away. She, too, wept, 
 for she was sorry to leave you and me. Do you 
 remember, papa, how she cried and kissed us 
 both?" 
 
 He clasped me convulsively, called me his last, 
 his only comfort. 
 
 " But won't dear mamma come back to us?" 
 asked I. 
 
 " No, my precious child, never; but we shall 
 go to her." 
 
 " O ! I am so glad ; I hope, papa, it will be 
 soon. And shall we too go in that black coach, 
 with all the nodding feathers ? and will the bells 
 toll, as when dear mamma went ? How glad I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 23 
 
 shall be that day ; and you, papa, will you not 
 be glad?" 
 
 My poor father sobbed aloud, and I repeatedly 
 kissed his cheek. 
 
 " Look here," my dear Arabella," said he, 
 opening the miniature case now before me, 
 " Do you know this face ?" 
 
 " 5 Tis my own mamma; my dear, sweet 
 mamma," answered I. " O ! let me always have 
 it to look at." 
 
 From this period, I spent a considerable por- 
 tion of every day with my father, who never 
 failed to show me the cherished miniature, or to 
 talk to me of its dear and lost original. 
 
 A year elapsed before he left the solitude of 
 Walsingham Castle; during that epoch he made 
 me comprehend that my mother was dead. How 
 well I recollect the feeling of awe that crept 
 through my young heart, as he explained the 
 nature of this tremendous but inevitable passage 
 to eternity. Yet, though awed, I loved to dwell 
 on the subject; and death and a union with my
 
 24 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 mother, henceforth became an association of 
 ideas in my mind, that robbed the one of its 
 terrors, and softened the regret entertained for 
 the other. 
 
 My father, never of a robust constitution, 
 began to show symptoms of confirmed ill health, 
 in less than a year from the decease of my mother. 
 So fervent had been his attachment to her, that 
 time, though it soothed the bitterness of grief, 
 could not obliterate her image, or console him 
 for her loss; and I believe, that had he been 
 childless, he would have hailed death as a release 
 from an existence which had lost all charm for 
 him since she had been torn from his arms. 
 
 It was solely for my sake that he submitted to a 
 regime the most abstemious, and to a system of 
 medical care, which condemned him to the most 
 monotonous mode of existence imaginable. I was 
 his constant companion ; seated on a low tabouret, 
 by his invalid chair or sofa, I established all my 
 toys in his library, built card houses on his couch, 
 accompanied him in all his airings, prattling to
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 25 
 
 him every thought that passed through my infant 
 mind, and never leaving him but with sorrow. 
 
 A fear that I inherited the malady of my 
 mother, or his own delicacy of constitution, ope- 
 rated continually on his imagination, rendered 
 morbidly apprehensive, by a degree of sensibility 
 rarely belonging to the male character, and 
 nursed into existence by the loss he had sustained, 
 and the seclusion in which he lived. 
 
 Mrs. Sydenham had been discharged soon 
 after my mother's death, owing to some symp- 
 toms of dislike displayed towards her by me; and 
 good Mrs. Mary, in consequence of the partiality 
 I had evinced towards her, was elevated to the 
 place of upper nurse. 
 
 Various and minute were the questions put by 
 my poor dear father to her, when she brought 
 me every morning to the library. 
 
 " How had I slept had I eat my breakfast 
 with appetite had I been cheerful?" were in- 
 terrogatories daily made. My countenance was 
 anxiously examined, and my pulse felt, -by the
 
 26 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 affectionate and nervous valetudinarian; and a 
 physician was in regular attendance, to report 
 on the state of my health. 
 
 No wonder, then, that I soon began to dis- 
 cover that I was an object of no little importance 
 in the house ; a discovery almost always danger- 
 ous to the discoverer, whether infant or adult. 
 Consequently, I speedily displayed some infallible 
 proofs of my acquired knowledge, by indulging 
 in sundry caprices and petulancies not peculiarly 
 agreeable to good Mrs. Mary; and very alarming 
 to my poor father, when repeated to him, in my 
 nurse's phraseology, which thus represented my 
 ebullitions of ill humour : " Lady Arabella had 
 been a little uneasy all the morning. Her 
 ladyship had made a good breakfast, it was true, 
 but she had refused to allow her mouth to be 
 washed after, which she, good Mrs. Mary, was 
 afraid was a sign of something feverish in the 
 habit. Her little ladyship had thrown by all 
 her dolls in short, she had not been as cheerful 
 as usual."
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 27 
 
 Well did I observe the anxiety this intelli- 
 gence occasioned my too indulgent parent ; and 
 my pride was gratified by it. The bell was rung, 
 Dr. Warminster, the Halford of his day, sent 
 for, and all good Mrs. Mary's information de- 
 tailed to him with scrupulous exactitude. My 
 pulse was felt, my tongue examined, my eyes 
 scrutinised; and after the termination of this 
 profound investigation, I was pronounced, ex 
 cathedra, to be in a state of perfect health. 
 
 " But, my dear doctor," asked my father, 
 " how do you account for her uneasiness ? Do 
 you not think it must have proceeded from some 
 incipient feverish excitement acting on the sys- 
 tem, some nervous derangement eh, my good 
 doctor?" 
 
 " I think, my dear lord," was the answer, 
 " that your little girl requires at this period a 
 governess more than a physician ; and advise, 
 by all means, your lordship's providing her with 
 one, as soon as a person befitting the situation 
 can be found." 
 
 c2
 
 28 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " A governess, doctor, you surprise me," re- 
 plied my father, " What can a governess have 
 to do with the symptoms of uneasiness I have 
 related?" 
 
 " A good one, may prevent a repetition of 
 them, my lord. The truth is, your daughter is 
 now of an age to stand in need of a more intel- 
 lectual person than Mrs. Mary; one who can 
 control her temper and direct her pursuits, as 
 well as attend to her health." 
 
 " I assure you, doctor, that her temper is 
 faultless," said my father, " and with regard to 
 her pursuits, she is as far advanced as most 
 children of her age. She can already spell several 
 words, and is peculiarly intelligent." 
 
 " Her intelligence I admit," responded the 
 doctor, with a peculiar smile, " but her progress 
 in learning I think not very forward. Why, let 
 me see, Lady Arabella must be now eight years 
 old ; and I do not know a child of that age that 
 cannot read fluently, and speak two or more 
 languages."
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 29 
 
 How attentively I listened to this dialogue ! and 
 how cordially did I dislike Doctor Warminster, 
 who made so light of my acquirements ! 
 
 My poor father looked distressed, and half 
 offended ; for I believe, that, judging from the 
 precocious shrewdness of my observations viewed 
 through the flattering medium of parental affec- 
 tion, he had hitherto considered me a sort of 
 prodigy. The truth is, that from never having 
 mingled with other children, and having lived 
 so continually with my father, my intellectual 
 faculties had attained a maturity disproportioned 
 to my age and acquirements. I could think 
 long before I could read ; and now, that for the 
 first time, 1 became aware that children of my 
 age were more advanced in education than my- 
 self, my vanity was cruelly wounded; and I 
 determined, with that strong volition that even 
 then formed a peculiar characteristic of my 
 nature, to forthwith apply myself to study. 
 
 When Doctor Warminster withdrew, I ap- 
 proached my father, and looking in his face,
 
 30 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 asked him, in a reproachful tone, why I had not 
 been taught to read ? He appeared embarrassed, 
 but tenderly embracing me, said that my studies 
 should forthwith commence. 
 
 " What is a governess?" demanded I. 
 
 " A lady, my dear," replied my father, " who 
 undertakes to instruct children in all that it is 
 necessary that they should know." 
 
 " Then let me have a governess directly, 
 papa; however she must be a nice, pretty go- 
 verness; not an old ugly woman like Mrs. 
 Sydenham, but one who will teach me to read 
 very soon, and help me to build card houses on 
 your sofa." 
 
 Never shall I forget the expression of per- 
 plexity which my poor father's countenance 
 exhibited at this request. 
 
 " Why, my child," answered he, " when you 
 have a governess, you must study your lessons 
 with her, in another apartment ;" and he sighed 
 deeply as he finished the sentence. 
 
 " But I won't learn my lessons any where else
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 31 
 
 but here," rejoined I petulantly ; " and my 
 governess shall teach me here!" And I burst 
 into a paroxysm of tears. 
 
 This exhibition of my temper convinced my 
 poor father of the justice of Doctor Warminster's 
 observations relative to the necessity of having a 
 governess for me. But it did not suggest to him 
 the prudence of checking my wilfulness ; for in- 
 stead of reprehending my peevishness, he fondly 
 embraced and soothed me, promising that I 
 should have a nice governess; though he was 
 less explicit as to his intentions respecting her 
 professional duties, a point which I had deter- 
 mined on exacting, being performed in his pre- 
 sence in the library. 
 
 A few letters were next day addressed to the 
 nearest female relations of my father, stating his 
 desire of procuring a governess for me. I know 
 not whether he informed them that good looks 
 were an indispensible requisite in the lady who 
 was to undertake the office ; but I do know that 
 the half dozen Mistresses and Misses who came
 
 32 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 recommended by them, might have served as 
 specimens of female ugliness. A glance at me, 
 who returned it by a look of undisguised dis- 
 approval of the candidates, induced my father to 
 dismiss each successively, with a polite intimation 
 that they should hear from him in a few days. 
 
 Then came letters of remonstrance from the 
 ladies who had sent them ; each being extremely 
 surprised that her protegee, Mrs. or Miss Tom- 
 kins or Thompson, had not been engaged, as 
 she was precisely the most suitable, desirable, 
 and appropriate person in existence. All these 
 letters, of course, my father was compelled to 
 answer ; and the difficulty and anxiety of invent- 
 ing plausible excuses, which should be satisfac- 
 tory to the patronesses, and yet not unjust or 
 offensive to the objects of their recommendation, 
 increased the nervous trepidation of the poor 
 invalid in no common degree. 
 
 I now began to think that a pretty governess 
 was an unattainable good ; and, in proportion to 
 this belief, became my impatient desire to possess
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 33 
 
 so precious a rarity. My father, with some 
 hesitation and embarrassment, informed Doctor 
 Warminster of his wish to procure a young lady 
 as governess ; and added, that his poor dear Ara- 
 bella positively insisted that good looks should 
 distinguish the person to be selected for the 
 situation. 
 
 I was present when this statement was made; 
 and could as little imagine why my poor father's 
 pale cheek became tinged with red, as I could 
 divine why Doctor Warminster first looked sur- 
 prised, then smiled in a peculiar way, and at 
 length, rubbing his hands, and positively chuck- 
 ling outright, repeated, 
 
 " A young and pretty governess, my lord? 
 why, bless my soul, youth and beauty are so 
 generally objected to in teachers, that 1 am 
 rather surprised that is, I am somewhat as- 
 tonished that your lordship should consider them 
 as indispensible requisites." 
 
 My father's cheek became still more red, as 
 he hesitatingly replied, 
 
 c3
 
 34 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " You mistake, my good doctor, it is not I, 
 but my daughter, who entertains this desire; 
 and my poor Arabella has been so accustomed 
 to be indulged, that in a point on which she 
 seems to have set her heart, I do not wish that 
 she should be thwarted." 
 
 " But your lordship is aware, that a young 
 and pretty woman living in the house of a single 
 man, may give rise to surmises injurious to her, 
 and not agreeable to her employer." 
 
 My father looked still more embarrassed, but 
 he falteringly replied, 
 
 " My reputation, doctor, ought to be, I should 
 hope, a sufficient guarantee against all such sur- 
 mises. No one who knows me, could suppose 
 that I could so far forget what is due to my only 
 child, as to place an instructress over her, of 
 whose morals I had not the best opinion." 
 
 " I beg your lordship's pardon; / did not 
 presume to doubt your morals, nor those of the 
 young lady, whoever she may be, who is to fill 
 the situation of governess to Lady Arabella ; I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 35 
 
 only alluded to what the world would be likely 
 to say on such a subject." 
 
 " I won't have an ugly governess, that I 
 won't," said I, bursting into tears; for I had 
 conceived the impression, that Doctor War- 
 minster was opposed to my having a pretty one. 
 
 The doctor smiled spitefully, as I thought; 
 and my poor father wiped my eyes, and kissed 
 my cheeks. Encouraged by his caresses, I re- 
 peated, " I will have a pretty governess ! a very 
 pretty governess ! shan't I, dear papa ?" 
 
 As I thus vociferated, I looked triumphantly 
 at the doctor, who took his leave, promising to 
 seek for the sort of person " that would satisfy 
 the fastidious taste of Lady Arabella." 
 
 The following week brought a letter from the 
 widow of a beneficed clergyman on one of my 
 father's estates, detailing, that from her scanty 
 income and large family, she was anxious to 
 place one of her daughters in some family as 
 governess ; and entreating his lordship to exert 
 himself with his female relations to procure her a
 
 36 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 situation. She added, that she hoped the youth 
 of her daughter would not be an insuperable 
 objection, as she was remarkably steady. 
 
 " Why, this is the very thing," said my father. 
 " What, papa?" asked I. 
 " I think, my dear," answered he, " that I 
 have at last found you a governess." 
 
 " O ! I am so glad, so very glad," and I clapped 
 my hands with joy ; " is she very young, dear 
 papa? and is she very, very pretty?" 
 
 " Yes, very young, my dear," replied my 
 father, " and very good, I am sure ; for her 
 father was an exemplary man, and her mother, 
 I have heard, is an amiable woman." 
 " But is she very pretty, papa?" 
 " I don't know, my love, for I have never 
 seen her; but, dear Arabella, remember what I 
 have often told you, that it is better to be good 
 than pretty." 
 
 " But I will have her pretty, and good too ; 
 for all pretty people are good, and ugly people 
 are bad and cross."
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 37 
 
 " Indeed you are wrong, my child." 
 Doubtlessly he was proceeding to demonstrate 
 my error ; but I interrupted him, by saying, 
 
 " No, indeed, papa, I am not wrong ; don't 
 you remember how pretty, how very, very pretty 
 my own dear sweet mamma was, and you often 
 told me, no one was ever so good." 
 
 He pressed me to his breast, and a tear mois- 
 tened my cheek ; but I had not yet finished my 
 exordium, so continued : 
 
 " And you, dear papa, you are very pretty, 
 and who was ever so good ? " 
 He kissed me again. 
 
 " But naughty Mrs. Sydenham, who was al- 
 ways cross and disagreeable, she was ugly, very 
 ugly, was she not, papa ? while good Mrs. Mary 
 is pretty, though not so pretty as I want my 
 governess to be. Yes, all pretty people are good, 
 and ugly people are naughty ; so I will have a 
 pretty governess." 
 
 The allusion to my mother, and perhaps the 
 compliment to himself, silenced, if they did not
 
 30 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 convince my too indulgent father ; and he deter- 
 mined to write to Mrs. Melville, to send up her 
 daughter, as he wished to engage a governess 
 for his little girl. If Miss Melville suited, she 
 would be retained ; and if not, a compensation 
 would be bestowed upon her for the trouble and 
 expense of the journey. 
 
 I counted the hours until an answer was re- 
 ceived ; and shortly after, Miss Melville, attended 
 by her brother, arrived. How my heart palpi- 
 tated when she was announced ! and how I longed 
 to have the deep bonnet and black veil, which 
 though turned back, still shaded her face, re- 
 moved, that I might ascertain if she was indeed 
 very pretty. 
 
 " Tell her to take off her bonnet, dear papa," 
 whispered I. 
 
 " No, not now, my dear," said he, sotto voce. 
 
 The sound of her voice pleased me, it was 
 low, soft, and clear ; and there was a timidity in 
 her manner, that prepossessed me in her favour. 
 
 My father kindly desired that her brother
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 39 
 
 might remain in the house, and ordered an 
 apartment to be prepared for him, and good 
 Mrs. Mary was summoned, to conduct Miss 
 Melville to hers. 
 
 " Let me go with her," said I, influenced by 
 the curiosity I experienced to behold her face ; 
 and taking her hand, I led her up the grand 
 staircase, though good Mrs. Mary was for con- 
 ducting her by the back stairs. When we had 
 entered the room prepared for her, I scarcely 
 allowed her to remove her gloves, before I en- 
 treated her to take off her bonnet; nay, I began 
 to untie its strings myself, so impatient was I to 
 examine her face. An exclamation of delight 
 escaped me as I beheld it ; for never did a more 
 lovely one meet human gaze. A profusion of 
 chesnut coloured silken ringlets shaded a coun- 
 tenance of exquisite beauty, on which candour 
 and innocence had set their seal ; and a figure, 
 slight but of rounded symmetry, was revealed 
 when the large cloak in which it had been 
 enveloped was removed.
 
 40 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Her beautiful face became suffused with blushes 
 as I exclaimed, clapping my hands all the while, 
 
 " O yes, she is so pretty 5 so very, very pretty ! 
 Now, I have a nice pretty governess, I never 
 will let her leave me ! " and I kissed her affec- 
 tionately. 
 
 I thought, but perhaps it might be only fancy, 
 that good Mrs. Mary did not seem so delighted 
 with my new governess as I expected she would 
 be, for I had already made up my mind that all 
 who loved me should love her; consequently, 
 I resented this imagined slight to my new 
 favourite. 
 
 I left her, while she prepared to change her 
 travelling dress for another, and rushed frantic 
 with joy to my father, vehemently exclaiming, 
 " Oh ! dear papa, she is so beautiful, so very, 
 very beautiful, that I am sure she must be 
 good!" 
 
 I was disappointed by the air of indifference 
 with which this information was received; and 
 was disposed to reproach my father with his
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 41 
 
 insensibility, but I observed that he looked more 
 pale and languid than usual, and therefore from 
 an instinct of affection forbore. 
 
 Doctor Warminster coming in soon after, pro- 
 nounced that my father had caught a cold, and 
 manifested a feverish tendency; consequently, 
 commanded that he should confine himself to 
 his chamber for a day or two, and see no one. 
 
 How I hated the doctor for this command ! 
 for I had set my heart on astonishing my father 
 by the beauty of Miss Melville; and could not 
 support with common patience, the idea of any 
 postponement of the gratification of my impe- 
 tuous wishes. 
 
 " Perhaps, my dear doctor, you would do me 
 the favour of seeing Miss Melville and her bro- 
 ther," said my father. " You will, in a conver- 
 sation with her, ascertain whether she is capable 
 of discharging the duties of the situation which 
 I wish her to fill ; for, if otherwise, the sooner 
 she knows that she cannot retain it, the less 
 painful will be the loss of it to her."
 
 42 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " I won't have my pretty governess sent away," 
 sobbed I " I love Miss Melville, and I will 
 have her stay with me always." 
 
 My father gave a look of helpless languor to 
 the doctor, who in return shrugged up his 
 shoulders, a favourite movement with him when 
 not pleased, and left the library to see Miss 
 Melville, and report progress. 
 
 " I know he won't like my pretty governess," 
 said I ; " for he wanted me to have an ugly old 
 cross one, I know he did ; and I don't like nasty, 
 ugly Doctor Warminster, that I don't !" 
 
 " Really, my dear Arabella," replied my fa- 
 ther, " you are now unjust, and unreasonable. 
 Doctor Warminster has been always kind and 
 attentive, and you grieve me when I see you 
 thus obstinate and ungrateful." 
 
 " You grieve me," was the severest reproof 
 I had ever heard from my kind father's lips, and 
 its power over me was omnipotent. It imme- 
 diately rendered me docile; and, as I kissed 
 him, I promised never again to designate Doctor
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 43 
 
 Warminster, as being " nasty," or " ugly ;" two 
 expressions which my father observed were ex- 
 ceedingly unbecoming in the mouth of a young 
 lady. 
 
 I counted the minutes impatiently during the 
 doctor's absence. At the end of an hour, how- 
 ever, he returned ; and confirmed my report as 
 to the appearance of Miss Melville, by stating it 
 to be, according to his guarded phraseology, 
 " peculiarly prepossessing. But what is more 
 important," continued he, " the young lady ap- 
 pears sensible, modest, intelligent, and well 
 educated ; and, notwithstanding her youth, I 
 hope your lordship will have reason to be satis- 
 fied with her. The brother, too, is a well man- 
 nered, gentlemanly person, who wishes to enter 
 the church, for which he has been brought up." 
 
 My father appeared highly gratified by this 
 account, while I, though greatly pleased at 
 having my favourable impressions relative to my 
 pretty governess confirmed, felt abashed at the 
 consciousness of the injustice I had rendered to 
 Dr. Warminster.
 
 44 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 The indisposition of my poor father proved 
 more serious than even his physician had first 
 apprehended. It confined him to his bed-room 
 for above a fortnight, to which I was prohibited 
 more than a daily visit of five minutes' duration, 
 perfect quiet being pronounced essential to his re- 
 covery. But even in that limitted space I forgot 
 not to repeat the warmest praises of dear, good 
 MissMelville, omitting the epithet "pretty,"which 
 she had requested me never to apply to her. 
 
 " But you are pretty, prettier than any one," 
 would I say, in remonstrance to her request on 
 this subject; " and the truth should always be 
 spoken, papa has often told me." 
 
 " We are all formed by the Almighty." would 
 Miss Melville answer, " it is His will, that we 
 should be plain, or otherwise, and we should 
 never attach any importance to the matter." 
 
 The fortnight of my father's illness being spent 
 entirely with my governess, enabled me to make 
 a rapid progress in learning. Her gentleness, 
 and patient attention, were assisted by my own
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 45 
 
 anxious desire, and I was delighted, when not at 
 my lessons, to be read to by Miss Melville. 
 Though the time passed quickly, and agreeably 
 in my new studies, still I longed for my dear 
 father's convalescence, that I might enjoy his 
 society as well as Miss Melville's, and that I 
 might also witness his surprise and pleasure at 
 beholding her. He evinced, however, no desire 
 on this point; on the contrary, he had been 
 some days in the library, and had resumed his 
 ordinary routine of life, and yet he still post- 
 poned a compliance with my oft reiterated 
 request to see her. 
 
 What he refused to my entreaties, he at length 
 yielded to my tears ; and it was agreed that Miss 
 Melville should be invited to the library that 
 evening. I watched, anxiously watched his coun- 
 tenance, as she entered the room. But, to my 
 great surprise and disappointment, I discovered 
 no symptom of the rapturous admiration I had 
 childishly anticipated. His reception of her was 
 polite, nay, kind ; and her timidity, which had
 
 46 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 no rustic awkwardness in it, but evidently arose 
 from native modesty, rendered him still more 
 affable to her. 
 
 Vain of the little I had already acquired, I 
 now displayed all my learning to my delighted 
 father, who was as surprised as gratified by my 
 rapid progress. 
 
 Two hours fleeted quickly and happily away : 
 Miss Melville was requested to give a list of all 
 the books required for my scholastic pursuits; 
 and politely offered permission to use any works 
 the library contained, for her own perusal. She 
 then left my father's presence, evidently pleased 
 with her reception ; and my father seemed no 
 less so with her. 
 
 The next day, her brother was received by 
 my father, who, after a long conversation, found 
 him so sensible and well informed, that he wrote 
 
 a letter to his friend the Bishop of , to 
 
 recommend him for holy orders; being fully 
 determined to bestow on him a small living 
 in his gift.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 47 
 
 This unlocked for good fortune delighted Miss 
 Melville, who devoted every hour, and I may 
 add every thought, to my improvement, which 
 was as rapid as it was gratifying to my father. 
 Our evenings were always spent in the library ; 
 where, in a short time, at my request, a piano- 
 forte was installed, from which Miss Melville 
 drew sounds that answer only to a master hand. 
 We soon persuaded her to accompany them 
 with her voice ; and it would be difficult to say, 
 whether the father or daughter listened with 
 more pleasure to her dulcet tones. 
 
 Having heard my father desire Doctor War- 
 minster to look out for a gentleman to read to 
 him, an hour or two a day, his own sight being 
 too weak to permit his studying without pain, 
 I entreated him to let Miss Melville undertake 
 this office. At first he declined, but at length 
 yielded, as he generally did, to my pertinacious 
 perseverance. 
 
 The flexibility, and delicate sweetness of her 
 voice, the distinctness of her enunciation, and
 
 48 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the correctness of her style, at once surprised 
 and charmed him. How triumphant was I, at 
 witnessing this effect, though I longed to be able 
 to share this new task with her. Two hours a 
 day were henceforth devoted to this occupation. 
 The books selected had a reference to my stu- 
 dies. History, travels, and belles lettres were 
 perused. I soon learned to point out, on the 
 map, the different places named in the books, 
 and made no inconsiderable progress in chrono- 
 logy. My mind expanded; every day marked 
 my improvement, and my father witnessed it 
 with gratitude and pleasure. His health, too, 
 appeared to become less delicate, now that he 
 had a constant and cheerful society, and music, 
 which always soothed and cheered him. 
 
 Six months flew by, and found me each day 
 more fondly attached to Miss Melville. In her 
 gentle ear was poured every thought of my 
 youthful mind, and on her sympathy did I al- 
 ways count, and never in vain in all my plea- 
 sures or pains, and the latter were but " few,
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 49 
 
 and far between." The manner of my dear 
 father towards this charming young woman, was 
 marked by a respectful kindness, that never 
 varied, a kindness as remote from familiarity as 
 from hauteur. Hers towards him, was the de- 
 ferential attention of a modest young woman, 
 who never presumed on his affability, but was 
 anxious to merit a continuance of it. Doctor 
 Warminster soon became one of her warmest 
 friends, and was never tired of commending her 
 to my father. 
 
 We were all happy, when a letter arrived, 
 announcing a visit from a maiden aunt of my 
 father, who rarely visited London, but who, 
 when she came, took up her abode at his man- 
 sion. Young as I was, I could perceive that this 
 announcement gave him pain; and when he 
 communicated it to Doctor Warminster, the good 
 man shook his head and shrugged his shoulders 
 in a manner that indicated quite as expressively 
 as words could do, that the expected arrival 
 afforded him no satisfaction. I had no recol- 
 
 D
 
 50 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 lection of the Lady Theodosia Conningsby, but 
 beholding the impression her intended visit con- 
 veyed, I began to form a thousand fancies rela- 
 tive to her. I observed that my father became 
 thoughtful and nervous from the moment her 
 intention of coming was announced, until she 
 made her appearance ; and this alteration in him 
 impressed me with no pleasurable anticipations 
 with regard to the cause of it. 
 
 Punctual to the hour she had named, Lady 
 Theodosia Conningsby's old fashioned chariot, 
 surmounted by capacious imperials, and high 
 bonnet-cases, rolled to the door. Two ancient 
 servitors, in rich liveries, made in a fashion as 
 obsolete as that of the chariot, slowy descended 
 from the roomy dicky-box, and as slowy assisted 
 their mistress to alight, who, followed by her 
 female attendant, bearing in her arms a lap-dog, 
 entered the house. 
 
 When Miss Melville and I were summoned 
 to the library in the evening, we found Lady 
 Theodosia seated vis-a-vis to my father, in a large
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 51 
 
 arm-chair. Her appearance was remarkably 
 outree her dress being that a-la-mode, some half 
 a century before. She was tall and extremely 
 thin, her face long and meagre, her nose sharply 
 pointed, her lips thin and descending at the 
 corners, and her chin of inordinate length, 
 and singularly protruded, as if in search of 
 a view of the rest of her face. But her eyes ! 
 There is no possibility of rendering justice to 
 them. They were of a light greenish hue, and 
 were so obliquely placed in their sockets that 
 when fixed on one object, she seemed to be 
 regarding some other, in a precisely contrary 
 direction. 
 
 In short, her whole appearance would have 
 been considered grotesque, had not an expression 
 of extreme ill- nature and acerbity pervaded 
 every portion of her physiognomy, and the ob- 
 liquity of her vision increased this repulsive and 
 sinister character. 
 
 " Give me leave to present to you Miss 
 Melville," said my father politely and Miss
 
 52 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Melville courtesied to Lady Teodosia, who vouch- 
 safed not the slightest notice in return. 
 
 " This is my daughter," continued my father, 
 who had not observed her ladyship's rudeness to 
 my governess. " Arabella, go and welcome 
 Lady Theodosia." 
 
 I approached her with reluctance and she 
 pressed her skinny and parched lips to my fore- 
 head. I was for retreating after this salutation, 
 but she sternly told me to remain, that she might 
 examine my face, and see which of the family I 
 most resembled. She drew forth a pair of spec- 
 tacles, carefully wiped them, placed them astride 
 her nose, and then deliberately surveyed me. 
 
 " I think, nephew, that she resembles my 
 grandmother very strongly don'tyou agree with 
 me ? You, of course, never saw the Duchess, 
 but her portrait you must remember. 1 was 
 considered to bear a very striking family likeness 
 to her." 
 
 My poor father, to whom I turned an ap- 
 pealing glance, could with difficulty repress a
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 53 
 
 smile that played about his lips; and Miss 
 Melville looked intently at the carpet to avoid 
 meeting my eyes. 
 
 " Arabella has the family nose," continued 
 Lady Theodosia, " yes, we all have that feature 
 high and prominent, a beauty peculiar to those 
 of noble and ancient race. The Bourbons all 
 have it. Her eyes, too, are exactly like those 
 of my grandmother. Do you not remember the 
 portrait ?" 
 
 " I confess the likeness does not strike me," 
 replied my father. 
 
 " Whom then do you think she resembles ?" 
 demanded Lady Theodosia in an imperious 
 tone. 
 
 " Her dear mother," replied my father and 
 his lip trembled with emotion, as it never failed 
 to do when she was alluded to. 
 
 " I see not the slightest likeness," answered 
 she, " on the contrary, I think the child bears a 
 most remarkable family resemblance to our
 
 54 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 family," laying a peculiar emphasis on the word 
 our. 
 
 My father, who detested arguments, refrained 
 from dissenting. But this tacit admission of her 
 opinion by no means satisfied the pertinacious 
 old lady. 
 
 " I perceive, nephew, that you do not agree 
 with me," resumed she. 
 
 " I confess we differ," said my father, depre- 
 catingly, " but every eye, you know, varies in its 
 perception on those points." 
 
 " No, nephew, I can admit no such fallacy. 
 The eyes must be strange eyes indeed," and 
 here she squinted most abominably " that do 
 not discover that Arabella's are as like those of 
 her grandmother's portrait as it is possible for 
 eyes to be, and bear a strong resemblance to 
 mine. 
 
 " No they don't do they papa ?" exclaimed 
 I all my incipient vanity wounded by the as- 
 sertion, and tears starting to the lids of the
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 55 
 
 libelled orbs. A beseeching look from my 
 father, and a terrified one from Miss Melville 
 prevented me from finishing the sentence, which 
 would have been extremely offensive to Lady 
 Theodosia. 
 
 " Upon my word, I cannot compliment the 
 young person who enacts the part of governess 
 to your daughter, on her pupil's progress in 
 politeness," said Lady Theodosia haughtily and 
 bitterly. " Had you, nephew, engaged Mistress 
 Jefferson, whom I recommended, I think Lady 
 Arabella would have been guilty of no such 
 instance of ill breeding as that to which I have 
 been a disgusted witness." 
 
 Miss Melville's cheeks were suffused with 
 blushes, and my poor father felt scarcely less 
 embarrassed at the unfeeling rudeness of his 
 callous and acrimonious aunt. 
 
 " May I inquire why you did not attend to 
 my recommendation, and to whom you are in- 
 debted for the young person before me, whose 
 extreme juvenility and inexperience render her
 
 56 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 totally unfit for so grave and important a 
 task?" 
 
 Tears now stole down the fair cheeks of Miss 
 Melville, which I observing, immediately ran 
 and embraced her, begging her not to weep at 
 any thing that old cross lady said. 
 
 "Ton my word, this is too bad, nephew," 
 said my aunt angrily, " I never beheld such a 
 spoilt and rude child in my life as your daughter. 
 But this comes of having young governesses, who 
 fancy themselves beauties forsooth, and who are, 
 perhaps, encouraged in the erroneous belief by 
 those who have the folly to employ them." 
 
 " Really, Lady Theodosia, I must entreat," 
 said my father, agitated beyond measure, " that 
 you will reserve your strictures for another 
 occasion." 
 
 " Will your lordship excuse my withdrawing?" 
 said Miss Melville, with that meekness that ever 
 characterised her. 
 
 " Pray, by all means let her go I always 
 think that such persons are wholly out of their
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 57 
 
 place when I see them intruded into the society 
 of their superiors," observed Lady Theodosia. 
 
 I followed Miss Melville from the library, 
 leaving my poor dear nervous father to support, 
 as best he might, the continuation of his dis- 
 agreeable aunt's discussion ; and tried all my 
 efforts to sooth Miss Melville, who wept bitterly 
 at the rudeness to which she had been exposed. 
 
 When Dr. Warminster came next day, he 
 found my poor father confined to bed, and more 
 indisposed than he had lately been. Miss Mel- 
 ville had been summoned at an early hour of the 
 morning to Lady Theodosia's dressing-room, 
 whence a long lecture from her ladyship sent 
 her back .her cheeks crimsoned, and her eyes 
 bathed in tears. It was at this moment that 
 Doctor Warminster entered the school-room. 
 
 "Bless me, bless me, what is the matter?" 
 asked the good man, on beholding the agitation 
 of my governess. Sobs and tears were the only 
 answer he received for five or six minutes ; but 
 when he had taken from the family medicine 
 
 D3
 
 58 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 chest some sal volatile, and presented a glass of 
 water, into which he had poured a few drops of 
 it, to Miss Melville, she shortly became able to 
 articulate. 
 
 " O doctor ! you do not cannot believe 
 the dreadful reports which Lady Theodosia 
 asserts are circulated relative to me !" 
 
 " What reports ? I know not even to what 
 you refer; and I dare be sworn they originate 
 wholly and solely in her ladyship's own brain, 
 always prolific in ill-nature." 
 
 " She has said such cruel, cruel things to me, 
 doctor !" and here the poor girl's tears streamed 
 afresh. " Some of them," and she blushed to 
 her very temples, " I could not repeat they 
 are too dreadful. She declares that my resi- 
 dence beneath the roof of an unmarried man is a 
 gross violation of all decency, that my reputation 
 is destroyed for ever, and that I must leave the 
 house. O doctor ! my poor mother my sisters 
 my brother what will they, what can they 
 say, when they hear this dreadful calumny?
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 59 
 
 But they know I am innocent !" and she wept 
 bitterly. I heard no more, for I stole hastily 
 from the apartment, ran to that of my father, 
 and mounting on his bed, threw myself sobbing 
 into his arms, exclaiming 
 
 " Papa ! papa ! that nasty cross old lady has 
 scolded poor dear Miss Melville, and made her 
 cry, and said she shall not live with you and me. 
 Do, dear papa, send that cross old lady away, 
 and do not let my dear pretty governess leave 
 me!" 
 
 My tears gushed plentifully at the dread of 
 losing Miss Melville, and I declared with sobs 
 that I could not be happy, I could not live, 
 without my own pretty, dear, good governess. 
 My poor father appeared greatly agitated, but 
 Doctor Warminster, who now came to his room, 
 informed him that he had succeeded in soothing 
 
 <j 
 
 the wounded feelings of Miss Melville. 
 
 " As your lordship is too much indisposed 
 to bear being harrassed by any scene with this 
 very troublesome lady, who has deranged all the
 
 60 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 comfort of your house, perhaps it would be as 
 well for me to seek an interview with her, and 
 endeavour to make her sensible of the mischief 
 she has caused." 
 
 " How kind of you, my dear friend," replied 
 my poor father, " do pray see her, and let me 
 know the result." 
 
 In half an hour the doctor returned more dis- 
 composed than I thought he could ever have 
 been rendered; for he was habitually a calm, dis- 
 passionate man. 
 
 " By Jove, my Lord," said he, " Lady 
 Theodosia is a perfect she-dragon ! she main- 
 tains that Miss Melville stands in a relation to 
 your lordship which renders it improper, nay, 
 impossible, to countenance her, or submit to 
 remaining beneath the same roof. She has told 
 the poor innocent young lady her opinion, and 
 your lordship may judge its effect. To talk 
 reason to this obstinate old lady is useless ; she 
 says that nothing but Miss Melville's leaving the 
 house, and your placing some Mrs. Jefferson in
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 61 
 
 her place, can induce her to believe the young 
 lady not guilty." 
 
 " Good heavens ! what shameful conduct !" 
 .observed my father, " what is to be done ?" 
 
 " Nothing, that I know of," replied the doctor, 
 " except to let the unmanageable old lady take 
 herself off, and then the house will again be 
 restored to its usual peace." 
 
 " I shall write her a few lines," resumed my 
 father, " for it is impossible to let her entertain 
 so erroneous an opinion of Miss Melville." 
 
 The note was written what its contents might 
 be I know not ; but the result was that the old 
 fashioned chariot conveyed its mistress and suite 
 next day to the house of another relation, and 
 we were relieved from her disagreeable presence. 
 
 A timidity, painful to witness, and impossible 
 to dissipate, had now replaced Miss Melville's 
 former gentle gaity, and easy, yet respectful, 
 manners. In a few days, my father received a 
 letter from his aunt, and another from the female
 
 62 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 relative with whom she had taken up her abode; 
 and the evident discomposure their perusal pro- 
 duced, proved that they were not of a conciliatory 
 character. But, as he threw them indignantly 
 into the fire, as soon as read, I never had an 
 opportunity of judging whether the epistolary 
 style of Lady Theodosia was as offensive as the 
 conversational. 
 
 In a very brief time after this occurrence came 
 Mrs. Melville to reclaim her daughter. She, 
 too, had been written to by Lady Theodosia, and 
 in terms of such insulting reproach, relative to her 
 daughter's supposed position in my father's house, 
 that she immediately thought it necessary to come 
 in person and remove her. My father learnt 
 this intention and the cause with real regret, 
 but I wept in agony and refused to be comforted. 
 The good Doctor Warminster endeavoured to 
 reason Mrs. Melville out of the scruples she 
 entertained as to the propriety of leaving her 
 daughter with me, though of the perfect innocence
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 68 
 
 of that daughter she never had a doubt ; but he 
 could not prevail on her to alter her deter- 
 mination. 
 
 My kind and good father was lavish in his 
 generosity towards mother and daughter ; who 
 left the house lamenting the necessity of the 
 measure. 
 
 Previous to their departure, and to console me 
 for it, a portrait was taken of Miss Melville. I 
 have treasured it ever since, and even now can- 
 not regard it without an affectionate recollection 
 of the beautiful and amiable original. 
 
 Never shall I forget the evening that followed 
 her leaving the house, where her presence had so 
 long diffused cheerfulness. Her pianoforte stood 
 silent, her accustomed chair empty, and her sweet 
 clear voice was no longer heard reading aloud 
 to my father, or gently and affectionately checking 
 my froward impatience. Incessant weeping 
 brought on a violent headache, followed by fever, 
 during the paroxysms of which I continually 
 demanded Miss Melville, my own dear good
 
 64 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 pretty Miss Melville. My father, who anxiously 
 watched over me, listened to my entreaties for 
 my governess with sorrow, but promised, if I 
 would be calm, and do all that Dr. Warminster 
 required, that he would take me into the country 
 as soon as I became well, to see dear Miss Melville. 
 This promise cheered me, and from the moment 
 it was made I began to get better. I insisted on 
 having her portrait on my bed ; how often was 
 the miniature now before me pressed to my 
 feverish lips, and bathed with my tears and how 
 often did I ask my father to repeat to me his 
 promise that as soon as I was able to travel, we 
 should go to the country to see Miss Melville. 
 
 In a fortnight more, we were on our route 
 to Melford, the village where her mother resided, 
 attended by good Doctor Warminster, who did 
 not think me sufficiently strong to forego his 
 care. I could scarcely be kept quiet at the Inn, 
 while the doctor went to announce our arrival, 
 and to request that Miss Melville should come 
 to me.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 65 
 
 The kind hearted girl burst into tears when 
 she saw my altered face, on which my recent 
 malady had left visible traces ; and my father was 
 evidently touched with this proof of her affection 
 for me. 
 
 Days stole on, and found us still dwelling in 
 the inn at Melford, my health improving, and 
 my poor father's less suffering than usual. Every 
 allusion to leaving Miss Melville again brought 
 tears to my eyes, and an anxiety that alarmed 
 the fears of my father. 
 
 " What is to be done, my good doctor?" 
 asked he one day after an exhibition of my grief 
 at a reference to our departure " my child 
 cannot be reasoned out of her feelings in the 
 present delicate state of her health. She is my 
 only comfort, my only hope, doctor, the last 
 scion of the family stock ; what is to be done ? 
 There is no sacrifice I would not make to secure 
 my poor Arabella the society and care of this 
 estimable young lady, but I know not how to 
 accomplish it."
 
 66 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " A mode has occurred to me, my lord," 
 replied the doctor, musingly, " it is a singular 
 one, and I should dread naming it to any person 
 of your lordship's rank, were I not acquainted 
 with the engrossing affection you entertain for 
 your only child ; and emboldened by the phrase 
 you lately used, that there was no sacrifice you 
 would not make to secure her the society of 
 Miss Melville. May I proceed, my lord ? " 
 
 " Certainly, doctor, though I am totally at a 
 loss to imagine what sacrifice can secure the 
 object we wish to obtain." 
 
 " Your lordship is aware, but probably not 
 to the full extent, for the young lady in question, 
 and her mother, with that delicacy which cha- 
 racterises them, have concealed it as much as 
 possible, of the injury inflicted on their feelings, 
 and on Miss Melville's reputation, by the slan- 
 derous reports circulated relative to her position 
 in your lordship's family, by Lady Theodosia 
 Conningsby." 
 
 " Yes, doctor, too well do I know it, for from
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 67 
 
 my female relations, whose protegees I have re- 
 fused to accept as governesses, have I received 
 letters of recrimination, caused by the evil reports 
 to which you allude." 
 
 " Has it never occurred to your lordship, how 
 Miss-Melville's presence beneath your roof might 
 be secured without a possibility of scandal not 
 as Miss Melville, but as a married lady in 
 short, my lord, as Countess of Walsingham ! " 
 
 " Good God, doctor ! you have taken me 
 quite by surprise. No, I never thought of such 
 a possibility. The affection I entertained for 
 Arabella's mother, always precluded the thought 
 of giving her a successor in my heart, or in my 
 house. My health, too, is so extremely delicate, 
 as you are aware, that I stand more in need of 
 a nurse than of a wife." 
 
 " But why might not your lordship find the 
 best of all nurses in a wife ? and, surely, a more 
 gentle and amiable companion could not be 
 found than Miss Melville. I observed how 
 much her society solaced your solitude when she
 
 68 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 was beneath your roof, and what a gloom her 
 absence occasioned. But in the present case, we 
 are to consider the happiness of your daughter, 
 as you so will it, even more than your own ; and 
 as that appears to depend on the society of this 
 young lady, it is for your lordship to reflect 
 whether you will, or will not, secure this advan- 
 tage for her, by the only means in your power." 
 
 The result of this conversation, which the 
 good doctor repeated to me many years after, 
 was, that he was commissioned by my father, to 
 make proposals of marriage to Miss Melville; 
 who, much to her honour, though truly grateful, 
 was by no means dazzled by them: nay, only 
 yielded, at length, to the repeated representa- 
 tions of the doctor, that my health would, in its 
 present delicate state, inevitably fall a sacrifice 
 to a separation from her, to whom I was so 
 fondly attached. 
 
 The marriage shortly after took place : and 
 never had my father cause to repent it; for 
 Lady Walsingham devoted her whole time to
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 69 
 
 the duties of her new situation, and proved the 
 truest, gentlest friend to him, and the most 
 affectionate guide and monitress to me. 
 
 We went abroad for some years, visited the 
 South of France and Italy; from the mild climate 
 of which my father's health derived considerable 
 benefit. But his wishes pointing to home, we 
 returned to England, and having spent some 
 months at Walsingham Castle, we took up our 
 abode in London, that I might have the advan- 
 tage of masters in finishing my studies. 
 
 And now it was that the malignity of my 
 father's female relations manifested itself by every 
 means in their power. Cards from each of them 
 were left at his door, inscribed for me, lest, by 
 any chance, the mistress of the mansion should 
 imagine them to be intended for her. Lady 
 Theodosia Walsingham had spared neither time 
 nor trouble in propagating the most injurious 
 reports against the wife of her nephew, who she 
 everywhere represented as an artful, designing 
 young adventuress, who had first seduced her
 
 70 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 poor, unhappy, weak-minded nephew, and then 
 inveigled him into marriage. I was stated to be 
 a victim to the tyranny of my stepmother, and 
 my father was said to be the slave of her will. 
 
 The acquaintances to whom these falsehoods 
 were repeated, were not slow in giving them 
 circulation. My mother's family were apprised 
 of them, and never having ceased to feel the 
 wound their pride had received, from the selec- 
 tion of a governess as a successor to a scion of 
 their aristocratic race, they lent a ready cre- 
 dence to every disadvantageous rumour relative 
 to Lady Walsingham. 
 
 I became an object of general interest to the 
 female members of both families, who, during 
 the period of my father's widowhood, had never 
 evinced the slightest anxiety about me. Letters 
 were written to my father by them, requesting 
 that I might be permitted to visit them occa- 
 sionally. He would have returned a haughty, 
 and decided negative to such requests, for he 
 felt indignant at the implied insult offered to his
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 71 
 
 excellent wife, but she entreated so urgently, 
 that I might be suffered to go to them, that he 
 at length yielded to her wishes. The good Dr. 
 Warminster, too, advised a compliance, giving 
 for reason that a refusal would only serve as 
 a confirmation to the evil reports in circulation. 
 Never shall I forget the first visit I paid. 
 I was then in my twelfth year, but from having 
 always associated only with persons arrived at 
 maturity, my mind was more formed than that 
 of most children of that age. It was to the 
 Marchioness of Rocktower, the aunt of my 
 mother, that this first visit was paid; a cold, 
 stately, formal being, who looked as if she had 
 been born an old lady, and never had passed 
 through the gradations of infancy, or girlhood. 
 She kissed my forehead, examined my features, 
 and protested that she was glad to find I so 
 strongly resembled my poor dear mother 
 " Yes, I was a perfect Oranville, there was no 
 mistaking the family likeness. How is it that 
 you are alone, my dear?" she then added.
 
 72 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " I wanted mamma to come with me," an- 
 swered I ; " but she would not." 
 
 " What ! do you call her, mamma?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, ever since she has been Lady 
 Walsingham." 
 
 " I wonder they did not exact the epithet 
 before," murmured she spitefully. " And have 
 you no governess, Arabella?" 
 
 " Mamma is my governess; she teaches me 
 all my lessons, except dancing, music, and draw- 
 ing, and for these I have masters." 
 
 I forgot to state, that the Marchioness had a 
 lady present at this interview, to whom she 
 turned with significant glances at each of my 
 responses to the queries put to me; and who 
 replied to them with an ominous shake of the 
 head, or a murmur between a sigh and a groan. 
 
 " And who stays with you while you take 
 your lessons?" resumed Lady Rock tower. 
 
 " Mamma. I always have my masters early 
 in the morning, before papa is up, and mamma 
 rises early to be present."
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 73 
 
 The two ladies exchanged mournful glances 
 and sighed aloud. 
 
 " Poor child !" ejaculated the Marchioness; 
 and " Poor child ! " echoed her companion. 
 
 " And who came with you in the carriage 
 here ; for you surely were not suffered to come 
 alone?" 
 
 " Mamma came with me to the door, and 
 I so wished her to come in ! but she would not," 
 answered I, artlessly. 
 
 " How mean ! how unworthy ! what a want of 
 spirit ! to come to a door, which she knows 
 never shall be open to her," broke forth the 
 Marchioness. 
 
 " Yes, very mean, quite dreadful !" repeated 
 the other lady, piously casting up her eyes to 
 the ceiling. 
 
 " Who is mean and dreadful?" asked I, with 
 a strong suspicion that these insulting terms, 
 though totally inapplicable, were by them meant 
 to apply to Lady Walsingham. 
 

 
 74 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " You must not ask questions, my dear," 
 replied the Marchioness, " it is very rude and 
 ill-bred to do so." 
 
 " Yes, very rude and ill-bred," repeated her 
 echo. 
 
 " Are you very happy at home? Speak the 
 truth, you may tell me ; I am, you know, your 
 own aunt, my poor dear child." 
 
 " I always speak the truth," answered I, red- 
 dening with indignation. " Mamma taught me 
 always to speak the truth." 
 
 " It quite wounds my feelings, to hear her 
 call that person, Mamma," said Lady Rock- 
 tower. " Oh ! if my lost niece could have 
 imagined it, she who loved him so much ! It 
 is indeed dreadful to think of the selfishness 
 of men." 
 
 " Very dreadful !" repeated the other lady. 
 
 " But you have not told me whether you are 
 happy at home, my poor child," whined Lady 
 Rocktower, with a piteous face, and a dolorous
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 75 
 
 tone of voice ; prematurely prepared to condole 
 on the confession of misery, which her malice 
 had imagined. 
 
 " Happy?" repeated I, " Oh, ever so happy !" 
 " Poor child, she is told to say this," ex- 
 claimed Lady Rocktower, in a voice that was 
 meant to be a whisper, but which, owing to her 
 deafness, was louder than she intended. 
 
 " Doubtless she is !" groaned her friend, again 
 casting her eyes up to the group of painted 
 Cupids on the ceiling, who seemed maliciously 
 to smile at the antiquated dames beneath. 
 
 " I was not told to say so," cried I, angrily ; 
 " I always speak the truth I am happy at 
 home, and have a fond kind papa and mamma ;" 
 and tears came into my eyes. 
 
 The two ladies exchanged glances again, 
 which glances seemed to say that one of them 
 had gone too far in her comments. 
 
 " I only meant, my love, that all children, 
 who have had the misfortune to lose a mother, 
 that is, an own, real mother, cannot be so 
 
 E2
 
 76 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 happy as as if they had not lost her," said my 
 grand aunt, trying with all her might to look 
 mournful. 
 
 " Yes, they cannot be so happy as if they had 
 not lost her," echoed the toady. 
 
 " But you, I suppose," resumed the Mar- 
 chioness, " do not at all remember your own 
 mother; you, unhappy child, were so young 
 when she died. What a dreadful blow that was 
 to me ! " 
 
 " A dreadful blow, indeed," groaned the echo. 
 
 " I wrote to offer to go to Walsingham Castle, 
 to nurse her during her last illness, though at 
 that period I was anxiously watching the pro- 
 gress of Mr, Vernon's, the celebrated oculist, 
 treatment of the cataract in the eyes of my poor 
 dear Jacko ; a treatment which, alas ! terminated 
 so fatally. The poor dear creature sank under it ! 
 That was, indeed, a heavy affliction." 
 
 " Yes, a very heavy affliction, indeed," re- 
 sponded the parasite. 
 
 " Who was Jacko?" asked I.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 77 
 
 " What! did you never hear your father speak 
 of Jacko?" demanded Lady Rocktower, in a 
 tone of the utmost surprise. 
 
 " Never," answered I. 
 
 " What hearts some people have !" groaned 
 her ladyship. 
 
 " What hearts, indeed ! " repeated her com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Mrs. Lancaster, be so good as to bring me 
 the miniature of my niece ; it is on the table in 
 my dressing-room ; and bring, also, the portrait 
 of my poor dear Jacko, which is by it." 
 
 Mrs. Lancaster bustled off with an activity 
 really surprising for one of her years, and un- 
 wieldly size ; and quickly returned with the 
 picture. 
 
 " Look here, my dear," said Lady Rock- 
 tower, " this is the portrait of your lovely lost 
 mother. I dare say you never saw her picture 
 before." 
 
 "I have one just like this, in a locket," 
 answered I, "with mamma's hair at the back,
 
 78 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 and I see her portrait every day in the library, 
 and in the drawing-room." 
 
 " How unfeeling !" interrupted Lady Rock- 
 tower, which was, like all her phrases, echoed. 
 
 " And I have a large picture of her in my 
 school-room," resumed I proudly, " which my 
 second mamma had hung up there for me." 
 
 " How artful !" murmured the Marchioness. 
 
 " How artful !" reiterated Mrs. Lancaster. 
 
 " What is artful?" demanded I. 
 
 " You must not ask questions, it is very ill- 
 bred to do so," was the reply of my grand aunt, 
 and, "Yes, very ill-bred, indeed," was again mur- 
 mured forth from the lips of her companion. 
 The portrait of Jacko was not in the place where 
 it was supposed to have been ; and I did not 
 request Lady Rocktower to have it sought for, 
 lest I should be told that I was ill-bred. 
 
 At length, the carriage was announced; and 
 I bade farewell to my grand aunt, leaving, pro- 
 bably, as unfavourable an impression of me on 
 her mind, as mine retained of her. I scarcely
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 79 
 
 need add, that I received no more invitations 
 to visit her, for her curiosity had been satisfied, 
 and her malevolence disappointed. 
 
 What a relief did it seem to throw myself 
 into Lady Walsingham's arms, which I did the 
 moment I entered the carriage. 
 
 " Oh ! dear mamma, never send me to see 
 that disagreeable old lady any more. I don't 
 like her at all, indeed I don't; nor that other 
 fat old woman that repeats every word Lady 
 Rocktower says." 
 
 How affectionate were the tones, in which I 
 was told that I must never dislike any one, but 
 more especially my relations; and how firmly, 
 but gently, was I checked when I commenced 
 repeating the questions that were asked of me, 
 and the comments that were so improperly made 
 in my presence. Young as I was, an impression 
 that Lady Rocktower disliked my stepmother, 
 had taken possession of my mind ; and I resented 
 it by entertaining for her ladyship a similar 
 sentiment. 
 
 My father, though he questioned me not,
 
 80 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 checked not my communications relative to this 
 visit, when mamma was absent from the library; 
 and embraced me fondly, when he heard my 
 artless remarks, all so indicative of my grateful 
 affection for Lady Walsingham. 
 
 " Who was Jacko, papa," asked I, "of whom 
 Lady Rocktower was so fond?" 
 
 " A huge monkey, and by far the most de- 
 testable animal I ever had the misfortune to 
 come in contact with," was the answer. " He 
 once bit my hand severely, because I prevented 
 him from attacking you, when your nurse took 
 you to my aunt's; and she was highly indignant 
 at my chastising him, seeming to think her 
 monkey of much more importance than my 
 child." 
 
 This anecdote, completed my dislike of her 
 ladyship, which not even the bequest of her for- 
 tune to me some ten years after, could eradicate. 
 
 When I visited the female relatives on the 
 paternal side, they all, and each, discovered that 
 I was exceedingly like my father's family. I 
 was, as they asserted, a true Walsingham, and not
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 81 
 
 at all like my mother's family, which they seemed 
 to consider as a piece of singular good fortune. 
 
 My father having heard from me the observa- 
 tion made by Lady Rocktower of the meanness, 
 the un worthiness, of driving to a door that would 
 never open to receive the presumptuous loiterer 
 on the outside of it, fully understood its malice ; 
 and prohibited Lady Walsingham from accom- 
 panying me on any of my future visits. Her 
 female attendant, a most respectable young per- 
 son, far superior to the generality of femmes de 
 chambre, ever afterwards escorted me on these 
 occasions ; and I then heard not a few comments 
 on the insolence and pride of some people, who 
 so soon forget themselves, that they forsooth were 
 too fine to continue to enact the parts, by the 
 performance of which, they had elevated them- 
 selves from their original obscurity. 
 
 Never did I observe a single symptom of 
 pique or discontent evince itself in my amiable 
 stepmother, at the conduct of my father's rela- 
 tives. The fulfilment of her duties appeared to be 
 
 E3
 
 82 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the source whence her enjoyments were derived. 
 The comfort of my father, and the improvement 
 and happiness of myself, were the constant ob- 
 jects of her attention ; and such was the sweet- 
 ness of her temper, and the winning gentleness 
 and cheerfulness of her manners, that her society 
 diffused a general happiness. 
 
 Time rolled on : and at the period I completed 
 my sixteenth year, no where could be found a 
 family more fondly united; or, between the 
 members of which, a better understanding in- 
 variably subsisted. Her brother was the only 
 member of her family who frequented our house ; 
 for she, with a delicate perception of my poor 
 father's dislike to an extensive circle of visitors, 
 never obtruded her relations upon him ; though 
 her correspondence with, and presents to them, 
 were frequent. 
 
 A liberal provision had been made for them, 
 by my father on his marriage ; and her brother, 
 who was now in possession of the living which 
 had accrued to him through the same source,
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 
 
 was, I have stated, an occasional inmate of our 
 mansion, whenever his duties permitted his ab- 
 sence from his flock. Nature never formed a 
 finer model of manly beauty, than Frederick 
 Melville, and the heart was worthy of the shrine. 
 His presence never failed to bestow increased 
 cheerfulness on our family party. My father 
 entertained a strong partiality for him, which 
 was displayed in many a costly gift dispatched 
 to the parsonage, as well as in the marked 
 gratification his society conferred. Lady Wal- 
 singham loved him, as only a sister can love an 
 only brother, ere she has experienced a warmer, 
 and less pure attachment; and I loved him, 
 with all the wild idolatry of a passionate heart, 
 now first awakened from its childish slumber, 
 yet still unconscious of the nature of the senti- 
 ment that animated it. 
 
 Many are those of my sex, who might have 
 passed the first years of youth, without a 
 knowledge of the passion they more frequently 
 imagine, than feel, had they not acquired its rudi-
 
 84 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ments from female companions, or the perusal 
 of novels; somewhat in the same manner as 
 hypochondriacs suppose themselves to expe- 
 rience the diseases of which they either hear or 
 read. The ephemeral fancies, young ladies 
 dignify with the appellation of love, no more 
 resemble the real sentiment, than do the ima- 
 ginary maladies resemble those for which they 
 are mistaken : but the effects of both are equally 
 dangerous. Many a girl has madly rushed into 
 a marriage, believing herself as madly in love, 
 who has had to deplore her infatuation through 
 a long life of consequent penance ; and many a 
 malade imaginaire has sank under the real results 
 of a supposed visionary disease. 
 
 Mine, was not a precocious passion forced 
 into life by such unhealthy or extraneous excite- 
 ments. I had never read of, or conversed on the 
 subject, till long after its wild dreams haunted 
 my pillow, and its engrossing tenderness filled 
 my heart. Well do I remember the suffering I 
 endured, when Frederick Melville first began
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 80 
 
 to replace the unceremonious familiarity with 
 which he had been wont to treat me, during 
 my childhood, by a more reserved, and de- 
 ferential manner. Filled with alarm, I demanded 
 of Lady Walsingham how I had offended her 
 brother, for he no longer behaved to me as 
 formerly ? 
 
 " Remember, my dear Arabella, that you are 
 no longer a child," replied she; " and that there- 
 fore he would err, if he continued to treat you 
 as one." 
 
 I felt a gleam of pleasure at this acknowledge- 
 ment of my being no longer a child. The truth 
 was, I had never been treated as one, conse- 
 quently no change was visible in the manners 
 of those with whom I lived ; hence, I was not 
 as sensible of my approach to womanhood, as 
 those young persons are, who impatiently await 
 their emancipation from the nursery school- 
 room, and its roast mutton and rice pudding 
 dinners. 
 
 " I am sure," said I, and the tears filled my
 
 00 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 eyes, " if people cease to like me, or to show 
 their affection, because I am no longer a child, 
 
 1 shall regret my infancy, and wish to resume it. 
 But you.) have not changed your manner towards 
 me, neither has my father; why then should 
 Mr. Melville ? I am sure, dear mother, though 
 your good nature prompts you to conceal the 
 fact, that this change in his manner has occurred 
 because he no longer likes me as he did." 
 
 And my tears flowed afresh. 
 
 The anxiety Lady Walsingham's countenance 
 displayed, though she endeavoured to disguise it, 
 convinced me that my suspicions were well 
 founded, and increased my sorrow, in spite of 
 all her efforts to reason me out of it. 
 
 When we met at dinner, I remarked that her 
 eyes bore evident traces of tears. Frederick too 
 looked more grave than I had ever seen him ; 
 and my poor father, in general, the least talka- 
 tive of the little circle, was now the most so. 
 He proposed music in the evening, to which we 
 assented, though little disposed ; and I played an
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 87 
 
 accompaniment, while Lady Walsingham and 
 her brother sang one of my father's favourite 
 duos. The tones of his voice, seemed to sink 
 into my very soul ; low, plaintive, and full of 
 rich melody, their deep pathos excited anew 
 the tenderness, already but too much developed 
 in my heart. 
 
 The sister and brother, sang only sacred 
 music, to which they had been accustomed from 
 infancy ; and their voices were in such perfect 
 harmony, that even the most fastidious critic 
 would have listened to them with delight. For 
 me, no other voices ever possessed the same 
 charm ; and I thought I had never heard them 
 breathe forth sounds of such exquisite and 
 softened melancholy, as on that memorable 
 night. The duo ended, they paused to hear 
 the accustomed request to repeat it a minute 
 elapsed yet no word escaped the lips that had 
 been wont to applaud them. 
 
 " Hush ! he sleeps," whispered my mother, 
 gently approaching with stealthy steps the easy
 
 08 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 chair in which my father reclined ; but no sooner 
 had she reached it, than a shriek of horror 
 burst from her lips, and she fell insensible at 
 his feet. 
 
 We rushed to the spot oh God ! never shall 
 I forget the agony of that moment ! Even now, 
 after the lapse of more than half a century, the 
 scene seems present to my imagination. 
 
 My father, my dear, kind, indulgent father, 
 was a corse ! the vital spark was extinct for 
 ever, and his gentle spirit had passed away with- 
 out a groan. Though years, long years, have 
 since elapsed, leaving many a furrow on my 
 brow, and inflicting many a pang on my heart, 
 that fearful evening, has never been effaced 
 from my memory. Then was the golden veil 
 of youth, that had lent to life its brightness first 
 rudely rent asunder. Then came, for the first 
 time, the soul-harrowing conviction of the un- 
 certainty of life, and the brevity of its blessings ; 
 a conviction that destroys the confidence in hap- 
 piness, which forms so considerable a part of the
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 89 
 
 happiness itself. Alas ! the dear object of so 
 much affection was now a cold and lifeless corse ! 
 snatched from us without a word of warning, 
 without even a farewell look. I could not at first 
 believe the fatal truth. No ! he could not be gone 
 for ever he could not thus have left us ; and I 
 clasped my arms around the neck which they had 
 so often entwined, and pressed my lips to that 
 dear face, calling him by every fond and tender 
 name to which my frantic affection could give 
 utterance; until, exhausted by my agony, I sank, 
 powerless as an infant, into the arms of my 
 attendant, and lost, in temporary insensibility, 
 my sense of the overwhelming affliction that had 
 befallen me. 
 
 Never shall I forget the awaking from that 
 sleep : the dim, vague recollection of some terrible 
 event, slowly making itself understood to my 
 bewildered mind ; then, the shudder of intense 
 agony, with which the fatal truth stood revealed, 
 and the unutterable pangs which it renewed 
 in me. No ! such a lesson, though only one
 
 90 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 among many of those which all must learn, can 
 never be effaced from the mind. 
 
 The shock had produced a nervous fever, 
 under which I languished for several days, totally 
 helpless ; yet, with a full, an overpowering con- 
 sciousness of the loss I had experienced. Lady 
 Walsingham never left my bed side. Hers was 
 the gentle hand that smoothed my pillow, and 
 gave the cooling beverage to my fevered lip ; hers 
 the sweet voice that whispered mild entreaties 
 to me to be comforted, even while the tremulous- 
 ness of its tones betrayed how little she had 
 acquired the difficult task of conquering her own 
 grief. 
 
 Doctor Warminster attended me through this 
 malady, with an affectionate interest never sur- 
 passed; all the friendship he had so long enter- 
 tained for my lost parent, seemed transferred 
 to my stepmother and self; and our chief source 
 of consolation was derived from the assurance 
 he so frequently gave us, that the life of the 
 dear departed had been prolonged far beyond
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 91 
 
 the doctor's hopes, by the calm and cheerful 
 mode in which it had been passed, owing to 
 the indefatigable care, and delicate attentions, 
 of all those around him. 
 
 My poor father had a disease of one of the 
 arteries of the heart, which had declared itself 
 soon after my birth ; and any sudden or violent 
 emotion might have produced a fatal result at 
 any moment. This was the cause of his sedentary 
 existence and had eventually terminated it; 
 but the awful fiat found him in readiness to meet 
 it. For years he knew, that though in the midst 
 and zenith of life, he might be instantaneously 
 summoned to leave it ; and he prepared himself 
 for the event with the calmness of a philosopher, 
 and the resignation of a Christian. Now it was 
 that I first learned that an imprudent disclosure 
 of his disease, made to my poor mother by Lady 
 Theodosia Walsingham, shortly after her last 
 accouchement of a son, who lived but a few 
 hours, had given her such a shock as to lead to 
 a total derangement of health, which conducted
 
 92 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 her to the grave, in a few months. Dr. War- 
 minster feared- then, that the extreme grief of 
 my poor father would occasion his death. But 
 the dying entreaties of my mother, that he would 
 not give way to regret, but live for their child, 
 triumphed over the selfish indulgence of his 
 sorrow; though he never ceased to remember 
 her, whose dread of losing him, had consigned 
 her to an early grave. 
 
 He determined to do all that could prolong 
 life for my sake ; and, contrary to a resolution 
 formed over the death-bed of my mother, never 
 to give her a successor, married to secure me the 
 society of Miss Melville, when he found it was 
 considered essential to my happiness. Never was 
 a husband and father more sincerely mourned, 
 than was my dear parent; and never did a 
 human being more deserve to be lamented ! 
 
 The first time I left my room after this 
 sad catastrophe, my mind softened by grief, 
 and my frame weakened by illness, I saw 
 Frederick Melville. He, too, had deeply shared
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 93 
 
 the general regret, for he was truly attached to 
 his patron ; and the awful suddenness of the 
 blow rendered it more painful. When he took 
 my hand, his own trembled ; and the extreme 
 palor of my face, seemed to shock him. 
 
 " You will not now be cold and distant to 
 me, Frederick," said I, while tears streamed 
 down my cheeks," when I have no longer any 
 one but my mother and you to love me." 
 
 He pressed my hand gently, and assured me, 
 that he had never felt otherwise than warmly 
 interested in my happiness; and that I wronged 
 him, if I doubted his affectionate friendship. 
 These words reassured me for how little does 
 it require to nourish hope in a youthful breast? 
 and the softened kindness of his manner, even 
 still more than his words, tranquilized my 
 feelings. 
 
 My dear father had bequeathed a handsome 
 competency to each member of the Melville 
 family, and a large dower to Lady Walsingham, 
 who, with her brother, was named my guardian.
 
 94 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 The unentailed estates, and personal property 
 to a large amount, were willed to me, charged 
 with provisions to the old servants, and a con- 
 siderable bequest to good Doctor Warminster. 
 A thousand vague hopes sprang up in my mind 
 at finding I was thus in a manner linked with 
 Frederick Melville. I was pleased at being, for 
 more than four years, as it were, dependent on 
 him, and felt that I would gladly prolong the 
 dependence for life. 
 
 " You are now one of the richest heiresses in 
 England, my lady," said good Mrs. Mary to 
 me one day, presuming that her long services 
 licensed her to be more communicative than 
 English servants generally are. "Your lady- 
 ship will marry some great rich lord, I am sure, 
 and perhaps I may see you a duchess." 
 
 " You will see no such thing, I can tell you," 
 answered I, angry even at the supposition. " I 
 am already rich, and of ancient family. Why, 
 then; should I marry for the ridiculous purpose 
 of obtaining that which I already possess ? Why
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 95 
 
 may I not marry to please myself, and so make 
 some one I love, rich and distinguished." 
 
 " Lord, my lady, sure your ladyship would 
 never go to demean yourself by marrying some 
 one as is not somebody. Every rich and grand 
 lady likes to marry some one that is richer and 
 grander than herself, if possible, for then she can 
 be sure she is married for real love ; whereas, 
 my lady, if she marries some one as is a nobody, 
 she can never know but what he married her 
 only because she was a great and rich lady and 
 that thought would be very vexatious to a 
 woman's mind." 
 
 I stole a glance at the mirror opposite, and the 
 face I there beheld told me that / might hope 
 to be loved for myself, even though I was a rich 
 heiress. I suppose good Mrs. Mary, who wanted 
 none of the sagacity of her sex and class, guessed 
 what was passing in my mind, for she imme- 
 diately added, 
 
 " To be sure, when ladies are as handsome as 
 your ladyship, they will always be sure to have
 
 96 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 lovers in plenty, even if they had no fortune ; 
 but still, if I was a great rich heiress, though 
 ever so beautiful, I would be afraid to marry a 
 poor gentleman, from the notion that afterwards 
 the suspicion would be coming into my head that 
 my money had some share in making him pro- 
 pose for me." 
 
 Mean and unworthy as this thought was, a 
 thought that never would have entered my head, 
 had it not been presented through the medium 
 of Mrs. Mary, it now made a disagreeable im- 
 pression on me ; and I began to think that to be 
 " a great rich heiress," as Mary called it, was not 
 after all, so desirable a position as I had been 
 disposed to think it. How much evil finds 
 access to youthful minds through conversing 
 with servants ; the very best of whom are, by the 
 want of education, and the narrowness of their 
 ideas, totally incapacitated from communicating 
 other than mean and selfish thoughts. 
 
 I now began to look on myself as one who 
 would be an object of general attraction, and I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 97 
 
 became inflated with pride ; but there was some- 
 thing so peculiarly dignified, as well as gentle, 
 in the manners of Lady Walsingham and her 
 brother, that no opportunity of evincing this 
 new defect offered. Nothing could exceed the 
 affectionate attention of my stepmother ; it 
 seemed rather increased than diminished since 
 the melancholy change in our family ; as if she 
 would repay to his child the debt of gratitude 
 she owed to my father. 
 
 The conduct of Frederick was uniformly kind ,* 
 but still there was a degree of reserve, if not 
 coldness, in it, that was far from satisfactory to 
 me. He had prolonged his stay at the earnest 
 desire of his sister ; but the period now drew near 
 when he must return to his living, and I counted 
 the days in which I had yet to enjoy his society, 
 as those only count them who love for the first 
 time. Lady Walsingham had a portrait taken 
 of him by an eminent artist, who succeeded in 
 rendering it an admirable likeness. The morn- 
 ing on which it was sent home, that desire to
 
 98 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 speak of the object of our affection, which is one 
 of the peculiar characteristics of the passion that 
 had obtained possession of my young heart, 
 tempted me to ask Mrs. Mary whether she had 
 seen Mr. Melville's picture?" 
 
 " Yes, my lady, I have ; and extremely like it 
 is. Mr. Melville is a very handsome gentleman ;" 
 (and she looked narrowly at me) " and much 
 resembles Lady Walsingham. I was sure her 
 ladyship would have his picture taken." 
 
 "Why so, Mistress Mary?" asked I. 
 
 " Oh don't you remember, my lady, how her 
 ladyship, that is before she was her ladyship, or 
 perhaps ever expected to be, when she was going 
 away back to her mother's, had her picture 
 taken, and left with your ladyship?" 
 
 " Yes, I remember very well ; it was I who 
 made her sit for it." 
 
 " Well, then, my lady, if that picture had not 
 been made, I think your ladyship would have 
 got used to Miss Melville's absence ; you would 
 not have had that bad illness; my poor dear
 
 AN ALDERLY LADY. 99 
 
 lord would not have taken you down to the 
 country, nor have married my lady. It all came 
 of that picture." 
 
 And here, good Mistress Mary put on a most 
 lugubrious countenance, and sighed deeply. 
 
 " I shall always rejoice then at having had 
 the picture made," answered I, more than half 
 offended at the implied censure Mistress Mary's 
 observation and sigh conveyed. " But what can 
 all this gossiping of yours have to do with Mr. 
 Melville's portrait?" 
 
 " Why, your ladyship must be conscious that 
 as the brother is as handsome as the sister, some 
 rich young lady may see the picture ; then, 
 perhaps, see him ; then, fall in love with, and 
 marry him; so that he may have as much good 
 luck as my Lady Walsingham had." 
 
 I felt my cheeks glow at this palpable in- 
 sinuation ; I was angry with Mary for presuming 
 to convey it, and yet, unworthy as I was, I fancied 
 that the portrait might have been taken with 
 an intention of keeping his image before me. 
 
 F2
 
 100 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Strange as it may appear, I wished Frederick 
 Melville to love me, ay, passionately wished it ; 
 desired too, that he would demand my hand, and 
 yet I desired to find in him that consciousness of 
 the difference between our positions, which should 
 render his love so timid as to require an act 
 of heroic generosity on my part, to give him the 
 hand he fondly aspired to, but dared not demand. 
 A whole romance was formed in my head, 
 though as yet I had never perused one ; but love 
 is a magician that can work strange marvels. 
 
 While these thoughts were passing in my 
 mind, good Mistress Mary was fidgetting about 
 my dressing-table* anxious to resume the subject, 
 which my abstraction had interrupted. 
 
 " I would not be at all surprised, my lady," 
 commenced Mary, " if some rich heiress were 
 to fall in love with Mr. Melville ; for he is 
 indeed as handsome a gentleman as ever I saw," 
 (I felt better disposed towards her) "and so 
 sensible and steady too. Well, all I hope is that 
 if such a thing should happen, it will take place
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 101 
 
 before he has ever been in love with any one else, 
 for it's a cruel thing, my lady, to have either man 
 or woman crossed in love. And though people 
 may be tempted by grandeur and riches to give 
 up their first sweetheart, still they must have an 
 unhappy mind whenever they think of it : and 
 some persons do say, but, for God's sake, your 
 ladyship, don't go for to get me into trouble by 
 repeating it they do say that Lady Walsingham 
 broke the heart of as handsome a young gentle- 
 man as any in Sussex, to marry my poor dear 
 lord." 
 
 " Is it possible ?" demanded I, forgetting in 
 my awakened curiosity the indecorum I was com- 
 mitting, in thus questioning a servant, relative 
 to the widow of my father, the kindest, truest 
 friend, save him, I ever knew. 
 
 " Oh ! indeed, my lady, its all true ; I saw 
 the young gentleman myself when we were down 
 staying at Cuckfield, looking even then as pale as 
 a sheet, and Mrs. Bateman as keeps the George 
 Inn, told me the whole story."
 
 102 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " But, perhaps, Mary, Lady Walsingham 
 never loved the young gentleman you saw, though 
 he was in love with her." 
 
 " Lord, bless your heart, my lady, the whole 
 village knew as how they were sweethearts, and 
 engaged to be married, and as loving as two 
 turtle doves. But when Miss Melville come 
 to Lonon, and seed this fine house, and all 
 the grandeur of being a lady, she took to 
 pleasing your ladyship so much that your little 
 ladyship couldn't abide nobody else ; and pleased, 
 too, his poor dear lordship, as is no more, till he 
 thought there was no one like her. And then, 
 when she pleased your ladyship and his lordship 
 until neither of ye could live without her, then 
 she gets that beautiful picture taken ; and off she 
 goes, guessing pretty well, I'll be sworn, that 
 she'd be soon sent for to come back. And so 
 Mrs. Bateman said, when I told her all about 
 her pleasing my lord and my little lady so much, 
 and about the picture." 
 
 Mistress Mary's tongue, thus encouraged, ran
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 103 
 
 on glibly, and I was in no humour to check it. 
 The truth is, though I blush, old as I am, while 
 making this avowal, the artful tale, thus related, 
 had made an impression on me. 
 
 " And so, my lady," continued Mary, " Mrs. 
 Bateman says to me, * Mistress Mary,' says she, 
 ' it may be all very well for Miss Melville to be 
 made a countess, and to walk in the coronation 
 with a gold crown on her head, side by side, 
 cheek by jowl, as the saying is, with the grandest 
 in all England. But will that comfort her ? when 
 she knows the green grass is growing over the 
 grave of her true love, who died all for her 
 marrying another. Oh ! Mistress Mary,' says 
 Mrs. Bateman, * / know what it is to cross a 
 first love, for all you would not think it now, 
 because I'm so changed ; but when Mister Bate- 
 man came a courting to me, there was another 
 lad, a widow's son, with whom I had broken a 
 tester, and taken many a moonlight walk.'" 
 
 A summons from Lady Walsingham inter-
 
 
 104 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 rupted the sequel of Mrs. Bateman's love story, 
 to the evident discomposure of its narrator, who 
 appeared unconscious how little interest the 
 adventures of the hostess of the George Inn 
 excited in my mind. 
 
 " I sent for you, dear Arabella," said my step- 
 mother, "to consult you about a change I wish to 
 be made in Frederick's portrait. It looks too 
 cold, too severe, and I should like the expression 
 to be softened. What do you think ?" 
 
 Trifling as this appeal to me was, it bore such 
 a curious coincidence with Mrs. Mary's obser- 
 vations and surmises that it struck me as being 
 a convincing proof of their justice; and I felt 
 chilled, if not disgusted, by this seeming cunning. 
 Wayward and wicked that I was ! to allow the 
 low suspicions of a menial to prejudice me 
 against one whose whole conduct towards me 
 and my father, ought to have left no room in my 
 breast for aught save implicit confidence and 
 boundless gratitude ! But such is the inherent
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 105 
 
 evil of some natures, that an ill founded assertion, 
 even from an unworthy source, can efface the 
 remembrance of years of experienced goodness. 
 
 " You do not tell me what you think, Arabella," 
 resumed Lady Walsingham, as I stood, lost in 
 abstraction. 
 
 " I like the picture very well as it is at present," 
 answered I, somewhat coldly, "and your brother, 
 as a clergyman, ought not to look as gay as a 
 fine gentleman." 
 
 " You mistake, my dear Arabella," rejoined 
 Lady Walsingham, " I do not wish the portrait 
 to look gay ; that would not be in character with 
 the profession of the original ; but a soft gravity, 
 that is a seriousness, devoid of severity, would 
 please me better." 
 
 " Did you ever see so handsome a young man 
 as your brother, mother ?" asked 1, urged by an 
 instinct of irrepressible curiosity ; and I looked 
 stedfastly and scrutinizing!}' in her face. 
 
 She positively turned as pale as marble, fal- 
 tered for a moment, and then answered 
 
 F3
 
 106 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " Your interrogation is strange ; but I did 
 once know a young man whom I thought quite 
 as handsome ;" and she sighed deeply. 
 
 " Who was he, may I inquire ?" asked I. 
 
 " He was a neighbour of ours in Sussex," 
 replied Lady Walsingham, "but he is now no 
 more." 
 
 The ashy paleness of her face, ought to have 
 silenced my unfeeling curiosity : but it did not. 
 
 " When did he die, mother?" again de- 
 manded I. 
 
 " The year I last left my maternal home," 
 was the answer, and it was received by me as 
 ' proof strong as holy writ' of the truth of all 
 Mistress Mary's statement. 
 
 My stepmother was no longer the pure, the 
 disinterested, high-minded woman I had from 
 infancy imagined her to be. She stood before 
 me shorn of her beams, a cold, calculating, am- 
 bitious person, rending asunder the fond ties of 
 love, to wed with one she only meanly and 
 selfishly preferred in consequence of his rank
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 107 
 
 and fortune. I saw in her, the destroyer of him 
 who loved her even unto death ; and the design- 
 ing plotter, who was now bent on accomplishing 
 for her brother, the same fortunate destiny she 
 had achieved for herself. At this moment, 
 Frederick Melville entered, and for the first 
 time, I beheld him without pleasure. My mind 
 was soured, and my imagination chilled, by the 
 unworthy suspicions that had taken possession 
 of it. Not that I had determined to resist his 
 suit, whenever he might proffer it : oh ! no, my 
 affection was too rooted for such an effort of 
 self-control ; though it was not sufficiently strong 
 or noble, to resist suspicion. But I determined 
 to torment the brother and sister, for a brief 
 space, and alarm their cupidity, or ambition, by 
 the display of an indifference which I was far from 
 feeling; and, when I had sufficiently tortured 
 them, I would graciously extend the olive branch, 
 and bestow on my terrified lover, the hand I 
 believed he was passionately longing to possess, 
 but durst not demand.
 
 108 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 How strange is the human heart ! here was 
 I, a woman, and a vain woman, too, who would 
 have resented with anger any doubt expressed 
 of the personal attractions I believed mine, now 
 acting, as if my wealth and station were my sole 
 charms ; yet wanting the self-respect or dignity 
 that ought under such a belief to have impelled 
 me to a totally different conduct. 
 
 When, however, Frederick Melville took his 
 leave, without having, by either a look or word, 
 expressed any thing more than a friendly interest 
 towards me, I felt deeply mortified; and un- 
 bidden tears, shed in the solitude of my chamber, 
 proved that though absent, he was not forgotten. 
 How did I now blame myself, for having, as I 
 imagined, by my coldness restrained the expres- 
 sion of Frederick's attachment. What would I 
 not have given for one more interview with him, 
 in which I might, by a renewal of former kind- 
 ness, have elicited some symptom, if not declara- 
 tion of the attachment, of which I so ardently 
 longed to be assured ; and which now, that it was
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 109 
 
 withheld, appeared doubly essential to my hap- 
 piness. How often did I find my eyes dwelling 
 involuntarily on the portrait ! and yet not half so 
 frequently as my thoughts reverted to the 
 dear original. The chairs and sofas on which 
 I had seen him seated, the inanimate objects 
 that decorated the saloons, which I had heard 
 him commend, all were now invested with a 
 tender interest in my imagination. A rose, 
 which he had presented to me many months 
 before, I had carefully preserved between the 
 leaves of a book; and never did a day elapse 
 without my looking at it, nay more, pressing 
 its faded and withered leaves to my lips. Ah ! 
 none but a woman's heart can ever feel as 
 mine did then, when in solitude and silence, 
 occupied solely by one dear image, I created a 
 bright world of mine own, nor dreamt that he 
 who lent it all its rainbow hues, would ere long 
 shroud it in sadness and gloom. 
 
 Lady Walsingham rarely mentioned her bro- 
 ther's name to me, and when I introduced it, 
 seemed more disposed to change the topic than
 
 110 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 to expatiate on it. But even this reserve on her 
 part appeared to my prejudiced mind, as the 
 effect of artifice; and I inwardly smiled at my 
 detection of it. Yet there were moments, too, 
 when looking on her fair and open brow, where 
 candour seemed to have set its seal, that, struck 
 with her resemblance to Frederick, I longed to 
 throw myself into her arms, and confess how 
 dear he was to me. But a sense of modesty, 
 that guardian angel of female youth, checked 
 the impulse ; and sent me again to the solitude 
 of my chamber, there to murmur his name, and 
 breathe those sighs which are half hope, half 
 prayer, and which never yet emanated but 
 from a young female heart. 
 
 My frequent abstractions, and pensiveness, 
 Lady Walsingham attributed, or seemed to attri- 
 bute, wholly to regret for my dear father. She 
 would dwell for hours on his virtues, in com- 
 mendation of which she was eloquent ; and even 
 to my prejudiced mind, her praises carried con- 
 viction of the sincerity that dictated them. 
 
 The seclusion in which we lived, nourished the
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. Ill 
 
 affection that had usurped my breast there it 
 reigned despotic sovereign ; and though I deeply, 
 truly mourned the dear parent I had lost, I 
 mourned not as those do, who have no engrossing 
 passion to whisper hopes, that in spite of tender 
 regret for the past, can make the future bright 
 and cheering. There is no magician like Love 
 he had now spread his witcheries around me, and 
 I saw all, through the brilliant medium of his 
 spells. 
 
 The year of mourning passed slowly away. 
 We had now been some months without a visit 
 from Frederick, and his sister continued the same 
 system of reserve, avoiding as much as possible 
 all mention of him. This system increased, 
 instead of diminishing my attachment : I became 
 pensive, and abstracted, my health began to 
 suffer, and Lady Walsingham consulted Doctor 
 Warminster. He, good man, was inclined to 
 attribute my indisposition to the extreme seclu- 
 sion in which we lived; he advised more air, 
 more exercise, more society, and dwelt on the
 
 112 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 necessity of amusement being taken into our 
 scheme of cure. Cheerfully, did my affectionate 
 stepmother enter into all his views, though soli- 
 tude would have been more congenial to her 
 own taste. Still, I did not become better ; and 
 the good doctor began to be alarmed. I observed 
 that Lady Walsingham and he had frequent 
 consultations, and that she daily grew more 
 pensive. She gave up sitting in the room in 
 which Frederick's portrait was placed, though 
 that had been, hitherto, her favourite apartment ; 
 and this change I felt as an unkindness, the 
 motive of which I attributed to a desire of still 
 more exciting my attachment to him, by thus 
 seemingly opposing it. 
 
 One day, while Dr. Warminster was feeling 
 my pulse, he suddenly asked Lady Walsingham, 
 when her brother was to be in town. I felt my 
 heart throb at the question, and I suppose my 
 pulse indicated its effect ; for the doctor looked 
 more grave than ever, and cast a significant 
 glance at my stepmother, who answered that she
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 113 
 
 did not expect him soon. That night while un- 
 dressing, I observed that Mistress Mary seemed 
 big with some intelligence, which she only wanted 
 a word of encouragement to communicate. Lat- 
 terly, a sense of propriety had induced me to 
 check her loquacity, by avoiding asking her any 
 questions ; but now impelled by a vague curiosity, 
 I led her to divulge the news she was anxious to 
 promulgate. 
 
 " And so, your ladyship of course has heard 
 as how my lady's brother, is soon to change his 
 condition," said Mary. 
 
 Now, strange as it may appear, this figure or 
 phrase of Mary's, of " changing condition," 
 though a frequent and favourite one with per- 
 sons of her class, I had never heard before ; and 
 imagined it to mean a change of position, or 
 residence. 
 
 " No, indeed," said I, " I have heard nothing 
 on the subject." 
 
 " Well, to be sure, how sly, and secret, some 
 people can be," resumed Mistress Mary. " Per-
 
 114 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 haps they think that after all, he may be got to 
 break his sweetheart's heart, the same as others 
 broke theirs ; and be the cause of their being 
 sent to the grave, as that poor young gentleman 
 in Sussex was. But he is a clergyman, and has 
 the fear of God before his eyes; and so, will 
 remain true and constant to his sweetheart, of 
 which I'm glad enough, for though he is a very 
 handsome and a very good young gentleman, 
 I would not like to see a great rich heiress, and 
 a lady of title too, demean herself by marrying 
 a poor parson." 
 
 " Why, what do you, what can you mean ? " 
 demanded I impatiently. 
 
 " Nothing at all your ladyship, but that the 
 Rev. Mr. Melville is agoing to be married to 
 a Miss Lattimer, a great beauty they say, with 
 whom he fell in love at Cambridge." 
 
 I was so wholly unprepared for this intelli- 
 gence, that it fell on me like a painful shock. I 
 neither screamed, nor fainted, though I felt 
 nearly ready to drop from my chair ; but I be-
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 1 15 
 
 came so deathly pale, that Mistress Mary grew 
 alarmed; and poured out a glass of water, of 
 which I swallowed a portion, saying that I had a 
 sudden spasm. 
 
 I dismissed Mary as soon as possible ; for I 
 longed to be alone, that I might, free from 
 the restraint of a witness, give w r ay to the agony 
 that was destroying me. 
 
 Never shall I forget that night ! when the 
 rich heiress, the spoilt child of fortune, who 
 thought she had only to express a wish, to have 
 it instantly gratified, first discovered that she 
 loved in vain ; that he, on whom she had lavished 
 all the idolatry of her first affection, preferred 
 another, and would soon be lost to her for ever. 
 Fearful was the conflict in my mind, as through 
 the long night, I counted hour after hour 
 sleep still refusing to visit my tear-stained lids. 
 I wept in intolerable anguish, the destruction of 
 all my air-built hopes, my fairy dreams of 
 happiness, my pride, my love, my delicacy, all 
 rankling beneath the deep wounds inflicted on 
 them. And he, on whom I doted, even while
 
 116 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 I thought, dreamt but of him, he was wholly 
 occupied by another, totally regardless of me ! 
 There was bitterness, there was agony in the 
 thought ! 
 
 Then came the reflection, that I had been 
 deceived, yes deceived, and duped ; and I unjustly, 
 ungratefully condemned Lady Walsingham for 
 not having told me of her brother's love for 
 another. Now were Mistress Mary's insinuations 
 explained ; Lady Walsingham had long known 
 of her brother's attachment, and hoped to induce 
 him to conquer it, and, like her, to sacrifice 
 love to ambition. How unworthy ! and yet 
 while admitting the unworthiness, I was weak 
 enough to wish that her endeavours and hopes, 
 had been crowned with success ; and that I, on 
 any condition, had become the wife of him I so 
 fondly, passionately loved. Then came the 
 humiliating doubt of my own personal attractions ; 
 a doubt fraught with tenfold chagrin to one who 
 had hitherto believed herself supremely hand- 
 some. 
 
 " Oh ! why," exclaimed I, in a paroxysm of
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 117 
 
 tears, " why was I not born beautiful enough to 
 attract, to win him from my rival ! What avails 
 my wealth, my station, and all the boasted advan- 
 tages I am said to possess, when they could not 
 attain for me the only heart I desire to make 
 mine ; the only being on whom my eyes can 
 ever dwell with rapture ! 
 
 My mind was in a piteous state, agitated by 
 various and contending emotions; one moment 
 governed by jealous rage, and the next, subdued 
 to melting softness, by the recollections of past 
 days. Then came the unjust belief, that I had 
 been deceived, wronged, by my stepmother. She 
 must have known that he loved another why 
 then allow me to indulge the dangerous illusion 
 that he ever could be any thing to me ? 
 
 How prone are we to blame others, when we 
 ourselves only are in fault. I really now felt angry 
 with Lady Walsingham, and visited on her the 
 censure that could only apply to myself. I thought 
 of my dear lost father, and my tears streamed 
 afresh, when I reflected that had he been spared
 
 118 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 to me, how would he have sympathised in this 
 my first, and cruel disappointment ; he, whose 
 indulgent fondness had ever shielded me from 
 sorrow. Now was it, that the fatal system of 
 indulgence, hitherto so injudiciously pursued 
 towards me, met its punishment ; for in pro- 
 portion to the facility afforded to the gratification 
 of my wishes up to this period, was the bitterness 
 With which this disappointment was endured. 
 
 The morning found me ill, mentally and 
 physically ill. My swoln eyes, and pale cheek 
 alarmed Mistress Mary, and her report quickly 
 brought my stepmother to my bed-side. To 
 her anxious inquiries, she met only tears and 
 sullenness ; but though evidently surprised at my 
 ungraciousness, it extorted no look or expression 
 of anger, or impatience from her. Doctor 
 Warminster was sent for, and he, having adminis- 
 tered a composing draught, seated himself by my 
 bed-side, to watch its effects. His gentleness 
 soothed, while it rendered me ashamed of my 
 own petulance ; and in answer to his repeated
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 119 
 
 interrogatories, I at length admitted that some- 
 thing had occurred to give me pain. 
 
 " But why, my dear child, for so you must 
 permit me to call you, do you evince an unkind- 
 ness to Lady Walsingham, so unusual, and, I 
 must add, so unmerited. This is not amiable, it 
 is not grateful, towards one who is so fondly, so 
 sincerely devoted to you. If you were acquainted 
 with the total abnegation of self, the uncom- 
 plaining patience, with which your stepmother 
 has borne the most cruel disappointment that 
 can befal a female heart, a disappointment where 
 an affection of the tenderest nature had existed, 
 you would, I am sure, feel an increased respect 
 and regard for her ; and avoid even the semblance 
 of ingratitude for the years of solicitude, and 
 never-ceasing attention, you have experienced 
 from her." 
 
 " If she have experienced a disappointment of 
 the heart," answered I, sullenly, " whose is the 
 fault ? Did she not, with cold and calculating 
 selfishness, break the bonds that united her to the
 
 120 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 lover of her choice, in order to become a countess, 
 and to acquire the wealth in which he was defi- 
 cient?" 
 
 The good doctor's face assumed an expression 
 of severity, mingled with surprise, that somewhat 
 moderated the expression of my ill humour. 
 
 v Who can have been so wicked, and so unjust, 
 as to have invented this falsehood, to impose on 
 your credulity ?" demanded he indignantly. 
 
 " Was not Lady Walsingham engaged to 
 marry a young gentleman in Sussex ? and did she 
 not break through her engagement, in order to 
 wed my father ? and did not the poor young 
 man die in consequence of the disappointment ?" 
 asked I, with the air of one who is convinced of 
 the truth of what she utters. 
 
 " It is true, she was engaged to marry a young 
 gentleman in Sussex, to whom her affections had 
 been plighted. But his mother, influenced by the 
 evil and scandalous reports circulated by Lady 
 Theodosia Walsingham, insisted on his breaking 
 off the engagement; and though he, convinced
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 121 
 
 of the innocence of Miss Melville, was willing, 
 nay anxious to brave the displeasure of his only 
 parent, the young lady from a sense of duty, 
 though fondly attached to him, declined to 
 become his wife. When your noble, your 
 generous father, with a view solely to your hap- 
 piness, made her through me the offer of his 
 hand, she unequivocally declined it; until I 
 urged that your health, nay, perhaps your life, 
 depended on her answer. She made your worthy 
 father acquainted with the real state of her heart ; 
 and he honoured her the more for her candour, 
 while acknowledging that his own affections, 
 except for his child, were interred with the wife 
 he had never ceased to love and mourn. A 
 consumption which was hereditary in the family, 
 had previously rendered all hope of the recovery 
 of her rejected lover vain; her acceptance of 
 his hand could not have retarded his death, and 
 her union with your excellent father did not 
 expedite that melancholy event. Lady Walsing- 
 ham had no reserve with her noble husband ; he
 
 122 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 knew the deep disappointment she had endured, 
 and the regret she never ceased to feel for the 
 object of her youthful attachment. He was fully 
 aware, that not to ambition, but to affection for 
 you, did he owe the hand of Lady Walsingham ; 
 and he honoured and esteemed her, for the 
 exemplary manner in which, concealing every 
 symptom of sorrow, she devoted her whole 
 thoughts, her whole time, to her husband and his 
 child. And this, Lady Arabella, is the person 
 you could misjudge, and of whom you could 
 listen to false and evil reports emanating from 
 some malicious calumniator ! I must confess, I am 
 shocked by the ingratitude you have evinced." 
 
 So was I also; and ashamed, as well as shocked. 
 How did the conduct and motives of my amiable 
 stepmother thus explained to me, make me 
 blush for my own ! And yet a latent feeling, a 
 base suspicion, with regard to her reasons for 
 wishing to engage her brother to wed me, still 
 lurked in my mind. The good doctor saw that, 
 though penitent for having believed the tale
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 123 
 
 against my stepmother, my dissatisfaction had 
 not yet entirely subsided, though I forbore to 
 express it. 
 
 " I will now, Lady Arabella," continued he, 
 "give you another proof of the disinterested 
 conduct of Lady Walsingham. When your 
 noble father, on your completing your sixteenth 
 year, aware of the precarious tenure of his ex- 
 istence, and anxious to secure for you a protector, 
 imagined that Mr. Melville, from his personal 
 and mental qualifications, might not be an 
 unsuitable husband for you, signified his wishes 
 to Lady Walsingham," (how I felt my heart 
 beat, and my cheeks blush, at this part of the 
 good Doctor's discourse !) "her Ladyship imme- 
 diately pointed out the disparity of station and 
 fortune between you, and her brother; and 
 urged your claims to a more noble and brilliant 
 alliance. Lord Walsingham, however, who had 
 studied the character of Mr. Melville, feeling 
 
 7 O 
 
 persuaded that your happiness might be more 
 secure in a union with him, than in a marriage with 
 one of higher birth, and proportionate opulence,
 
 124 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 persevered in his desire of the subject being 
 proposed to Mr. Melville, by his sister. Well 
 do I remember the deep regret with which your 
 good father learned that Mr. Melville's affections 
 were engaged, to a young and portionless lady, 
 the daughter of a clergyman, at Cambridge. 
 This discovery was made only the last day of 
 your father's life ; and Lady Walsingham, seeing 
 how much it disappointed her noble-minded 
 husband, wept for his sorrow ; though she could 
 not do otherwise than respect the disinterested- 
 ness of her brother, in adhering to his first 
 choice, notwithstanding the great temptation 
 offered to him." 
 
 Now was the delicacy and prudence of my 
 stepmother's conduct entirely revealed, and the 
 reserve of her brother explained. And these 
 were the persons whom I had wronged by my 
 mistrust ! whom I had believed capable of playing 
 a game to secure me, and my fortune ! How 
 unworthy did I appear in my own eyes, though 
 my suspicions were happily, as I thought, known 
 only to myself. Mistress Mary, who had been
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 125 
 
 the medium of infusing them into my mind, lost 
 a considerable portion of my favour; for I in 
 this instance acted with the injustice to which so 
 many are prone, that of avenging, on the instru- 
 ment of their unworthy curiosity and suspicion, 
 the blame which they may have incurred, and 
 almost solely deserve. My vanity too was now less 
 deeply mortified by discovering that Frederick 
 Melville had lost his heart ere I had attained 
 an age to admit of my being a candidate for it. 
 How I longed to behold the woman who was 
 capable of inspiring a passion that could thus 
 resist the temptation that my poor dear father 
 had held out. Then came the thought, that 
 my preference for Frederick Melville had been 
 detected by the fond eyes of my parent, and that 
 it was this detection which led to his offering him 
 my hand. Lady Walsingham, too, had observed 
 the state of my heart, and tried to wean it from 
 its first attachment. My soul was penetrated 
 with a deep sense of the unbounded love of the 
 parent I had lost, and of the delicacy and
 
 126 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 affection of her, to whose care he had bequeathed 
 me. My sullenness and petulance melted away, 
 like ice beneath the sun, as 1 reflected on their 
 goodness : and I was no longer the rich heiress, 
 who coujd command love and condescend to 
 reward it, but the orphan, who was disposed to be 
 grateful for affection, and once more anxious to 
 merit it. 
 
 The Doctor saw that a salutary change had 
 occurred in me ; and my gentle stepmother was 
 soon made happy by being permitted to lavish 
 on me all the demonstrations of that tenderness 
 which she so truly felt. No word of explanation 
 ever passed between her and me, relative to my 
 disappointment with regard to her brother. 
 With womanly delicacy and tact, she avoided all 
 semblance of knowing my attachment, though 
 the softness of her manners indicated a sympathy, 
 that I was now thoroughly capable of estimating. 
 When I looked on her still beautiful but pensive 
 face, and reflected how courageously she had 
 borne up against the destruction of her youthful
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 127 
 
 hopes of happiness, I was incited to vanquish the 
 regret, that, in spite of my best resolves, still 
 would prey on me. Pride, the besetting sin of 
 my nature, and the most successful adversary 
 that ever coped with love, came to my aid, and 
 assisted me, perhaps still more powerfully than 
 reason, in conquering my girlish passion. To 
 continue to love one, whose heart was given to 
 another, was mean, was unfeminine ; and I half 
 vanquished my weakness in feeling it to be one. 
 
 Still I heard nothing of Frederick Melville's 
 marriage. Was it postponed from a fear of my 
 not being able to support it ? There was insult in 
 the supposition ; and I determined to do all in 
 my power to bring the nuptials to a speedy 
 conclusion. 
 
 Seated, one day, in the drawing-room appro- 
 priated to Lady Walsingham, and in which hung 
 the portrait of her brother, I made a desperate 
 effort, and asked her when Frederick was to be 
 married. She answered, hesitatingly, that the 
 precise time had never been named.
 
 128 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " Would it not be better, dear mother," 
 said I, " that the marriage took place at once. 
 Theirs has been a long attachment, and all who 
 esteem them must desire to see it rewarded. 
 Would it not be kind to have a miniature copy 
 made of Frederick's portrait ? " and I looked at it 
 with a steady gaze, " as a nuptial present to his 
 betrothed: and we, dear mother, must send 
 suitable gifts to the bride." 
 
 All this was said so quietly and naturally, that 
 Lady Walsingham saw not how much the effort 
 cost me ; but pride instigated it ; and what this 
 despot commands he generally supplies his vo- 
 taries with the power of executing. Lady 
 Walsingham had so little of this leaven of fine 
 natures in hers, that she now began to think 
 that she had been in error when she imagined 
 that I had entertained more than a sentiment of 
 friendship for her brother ; and I did all in my 
 power to encourage the delusion. She wrote, 
 therefore, to advise Frederick to have the mar- 
 riage completed ; and, at my request, invited the

 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 129 
 
 bride elect and bridegroom, to come to London, 
 that the ceremony might be celebrated beneath 
 our roof. I busied myself in preparing wedding 
 gifts for the bride, and counted the hours until 
 she arrived. I saw that Lady Walsingham 
 occasionally feared that I was playing a part; 
 but so skilfully did I enact it, that at length I 
 deceived even her. 
 
 Miss Lattimer and her father arrived. How 
 my heart throbbed when I saw her enter ! yet 
 I had sufficient self-control to conceal every 
 symptom of agitation, if I could not subdue the 
 deep emotion. She was exquisitely beautiful. 
 A Madonna countenance, such as the divine 
 Raphael loved to paint, in which softness and 
 modesty lent additional charms to features of the 
 most delicate proportions, and a complexion of 
 unequalled brilliancy. But why attempt to de- 
 scribe what a portrait of her, painted at my 
 request, so much better explains ? Here it is ; 
 yet lovely as is the picture, it did not render 
 justice to the fair original. No longer did I 
 
 G3
 
 130 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 wonder that Frederick Melville, for her sake, 
 resisted the temptation offered to him by my 
 wealth : her beauty alone would have justified 
 his choice even to the most fastidious critic of 
 female loveliness; but her gentle sweetness of 
 disposition, and unassuming good sense, en- 
 hanced her personal attractions. 
 
 When Frederick arrived, no symptom of 
 emotion was 1 visible in the frank and cordial 
 greeting which I gave him ; while he, imposed 
 on by the easy cheerfulness of my manner, re- 
 sumed his ancient cordiality, and unreservedly 
 manifested, in my presence, all the tenderness 
 he felt for his betrothed. The firm resolution 
 to conceal and vanquish an attachment, is an 
 effectual step towards the accomplishment of 
 that difficult task: and the necessity of wit- 
 nessing the beloved object's demonstrations of 
 affection for another, though a painful, is a still 
 more efficacious remedy. 
 
 I accompanied Eliza Lattimer to the altar, and 
 heard him I loved, plight to her those vows which
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 131 
 
 I once hoped ah ! how vainly hoped might 
 have been pledged to me ; and though this effort 
 cost me a pang, and a severe one, I was repaid by 
 the salutary effect which this termination of all 
 hope, this positive and eternal barrier between us, 
 produced. To bestow a thought or a sigh on 
 him who was now, in the sight of God and man, 
 and by his own free will and choice, the husband 
 of another, would have been not only wicked, 
 but mean ; and I fear pride, more than reason, 
 or religion, assisted my firm resolve to subdue 
 every trace of my ill-starred attachment. 
 
 The new married pair set off for one of my 
 country seats, to spend the honey-moon; and left 
 me, if not happy, at least self-satisfied with the 
 consciousness of having well performed the dif- 
 ficult role I had imposed on myself. My attach- 
 ment to Lady Walsingham had returned in all 
 its pristine force. A secret sympathy united 
 us; and, though never expressed, its influence 
 was sensibly felt by both. It was perhaps this 
 bond of union that precluded her from discover-
 
 132 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ing the great defect of my character, which was 
 an ungovernable pride; or, at least, it might 
 have prevented her from taking sufficient pains 
 to eradicate or soften it. Hers was too meek a 
 spirit to cope with mine: she shrank from op- 
 position, and was more prone to lament errors in 
 those she loved, or to avoid all occasion of elicit- 
 ing their display, than to exert the necessary 
 firmness for combating and triumphing over 
 them. 
 
 I soon saw this sole weakness in her otherwise 
 faultless character; and availed myself of my 
 knowledge of it to acquire an undisputed em- 
 pire over her. An increased delicacy of health, 
 of which I had lately shown symptoms, alarmed 
 the sensitive affection of Lady Walsingham: and 
 Doctor Warminster, on being consulted, recom- 
 mended that the effect of a milder climate should 
 be tried for the approaching winter. I eagerly 
 acceded to the proposal, and in a short time 
 after, my stepmother and I, attended by a 
 numerous suite, left England, for Italy.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 133 
 
 I pass over the surprise and pleasure, which 
 our stay in the French capital, during the first 
 few weeks, afforded me. I was of an age when 
 every novelty charms ; and I was travelling with 
 a person whose sole study was to increase my 
 stock of enjoyments. 
 
 While at Paris, we met, at the English am- 
 bassador's, the Marquis of Clydesdale, a young 
 man remarkable for personal attractions, and 
 not less so for an amiability of manner and 
 general information, that rendered his society 
 peculiarly agreeable to, and universally sought 
 after, by his compatriots. An expression of 
 seriousness, amounting almost to melancholy, 
 pervaded the countenance of Lord Clydesdale, 
 and, in my opinion, lent it an additional interest ; 
 and an occasional pensiveness and abstraction 
 detracted not from this feeling. I found myself 
 unconsciously comparing the countenance of 
 Lord Clydesdale with that of one still remem- 
 bered, though no longer loved ; and I was com- 
 pelled to own, that, for intellectual expression,
 
 134 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 that of his lordship possessed the superiority. The 
 air noble and distingue, peculiar to, and only to 
 be acquired by good company, was strikingly con- 
 spicuous in Lord Clydesdale; and gave a dignified 
 ease to his movements, that impressed the be- 
 holders with a conviction that he was no ordinary 
 person. 
 
 We had met three or four times after our 
 introduction, and had only exchanged a few 
 casual words of common-place civility; until one 
 day at a dinner at the Ambassador's, happening 
 to be placed next him at table, we insensibly fell 
 into conversation. We soon discovered that we 
 were about to spend the winter at the same place, 
 in Italy ; and this circumstance led to his giving 
 me many interesting details of that country, 
 where he had already sojourned some two 
 or three years before. The originality and 
 justice of his remarks, and the unpretending 
 frankness and simplicity with which they were 
 made, impressed me highly in his favour. Perhaps 
 they owed something of their charm, to the hand-
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 135 
 
 some countenance, and dignified bearing of him 
 who uttered them; for my youthful predeliction 
 for beauty still influenced me, more than I was 
 willing to admit, even to myself. 
 
 The next day saw the Marquis of Clydesdale 
 a visitor at our hotel ; and each succeeding one, 
 marked the progress of an intimacy that was 
 gradually formed between us. He lent me 
 books, conducted Lady Walsingham and myself 
 to the studios of the different artists of merit, 
 and attached himself to us, at the various soirees 
 at which we met. 
 
 I soon became accustomed to his presence ; nay, 
 more, when he was absent I experienced a void in 
 our circle, that the society of no other man, 
 however amiable, could fill up. I found myself 
 impatiently expecting his arrival, at the hour he 
 was in the habit of coming; and felt my heart 
 beat quicker as I recognised his well-known 
 step, or heard the tones of his voice. Those 
 were happy days ! In the course of life there is 
 perhaps no epoch so delightful, as the first hours
 
 136 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 of a passion, budding into flower, but not yet 
 full blown ; when hope silences the whispers of 
 doubt, and security has not destroyed the trem- 
 bling anxiety, that lends to love its strong, its 
 thrilling excitement. I hardly dared to ask myself 
 whether I was beloved ; though I was conscious 
 that my own heart had received an impression 
 that rendered a reciprocity of sentiment essential 
 to my peace. Happy in the present, fearing 
 to anticipate the future, I felt as if in a blissful 
 dream, from which I dreaded to awaken. 
 
 More than one nobleman, of my own country, 
 had sought to find favour in my eyes, at Paris. 
 It was in the French capital that I first entered 
 into general society ; for my extreme youth prior 
 to the death of my dear father, and the seclusion 
 in which we had lived ever since that melan- 
 choly event, had precluded my presentation at 
 court; or my introduction into the circles in 
 which my station and fortune entitled me to take 
 a place. Consequently, until my arrival at Paris, 
 I had no opportunity of seeing, or being seen.
 
 AN ELDEIU.Y LADY. 137 
 
 My vanity was not a little gratified by ob- 
 serving that I was the principal magnet of 
 attraction, in the re-unions, to which all the 
 English of distinction flocked. It required some 
 such balm, to sooth the mortification I had 
 experienced in my first preference ; and though 
 a thought would sometimes intrude, that perhaps 
 my wealth was even more seductive, in the eyes 
 of my admirers, than myself, still my mirror 
 showed me a face and figure that might, even if 
 unaccompanied by the powerful adjuncts of 
 broad lands and funded thousands, have capti- 
 vated male hearts. I remarked, and with pain, 
 that as each suitor approached to win attention, 
 Lord Clydesdale gave way to them, with the 
 air of a man who, having no intentions himself, 
 determined not to interfere with those of others. 
 
 How did this conduct, on his part, wound and 
 pique me ! I discouraged my admirers, by such 
 a decided and marked indifference towards them, 
 that they soon perceived how trifling was their 
 chance of success; and withdrew, leaving the
 
 138 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 field open to Lord Clydesdale, who resumed his 
 place by me, with an air of satisfaction, but with 
 no indication of any intention of maintaining it, 
 against any new pretender to my hand. The 
 anxiety I now experienced, was far more poig- 
 nant than that which I had known, when 
 Frederick Melville was the object of my girlish 
 flame. It was now I began to think that first 
 love, whatever may be said or sung of it, is not 
 so arbitrary or durable in its influence, as young 
 ladies imagine; and that, however unromantic it 
 may sound, a second love is not inferior in the 
 hopes, fears, and tenderness, to which it gives 
 birth. It has only one deterioration, and that is 
 the humiliating consciousness that it may, like the 
 former one, subside. Yet, even this consciousness, 
 like that of the inevitable certainty of death, 
 sometimes produces little effect on the feeling, 
 and as little on the conduct of mortals. 
 
 The Due D'Entragues, a descendant of one of 
 the most ancient houses in France, and remark- 
 able for good looks, and a certain animation of
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 139 
 
 manner, and vivacity of mind, peculiar to his 
 countrymen, which, if it produce not wit, at least, 
 resembles it so strongly, as often to impose on 
 those who are not very competent judges, now 
 paid his court to me. Unlike my English suitors, 
 he was not to be checked by coldness, or dis- 
 gusted by indifference. The manifestations of 
 both, which I was not slow in making, as soon as 
 I discovered that his attentions meant more than 
 mere politesse, were received by him as proofs of 
 the natural gaucherie of manner, universally 
 attributed to English ladies, by foreigners. He 
 was so impressed with a belief of his own fasci- 
 nations, that he could not doubt their effect on 
 me; and approached me with the air of a man 
 certain of success, but grateful to the vanquished 
 for the facility of his victory. 
 
 I became provoked by this exhibition of self- 
 complacency and conceit, and redoubled the 
 hauteur of my manner. Lord Clydesdale, as 
 was usual with him, resigned his place by my 
 side, whenever the Due approached; and this
 
 140 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 conduct on his part, confirmed the hopes of my 
 confident admirer. I became picqued and 
 offended with Lord Clydesdale, and, I fear, 
 often permitted indications of my displeasure to 
 be visible ; but they produced no change in him, 
 and he still continued to be a frequent, nay, 
 almost a daily visitor at our hotel. 
 
 One morning Lady Walsingham was surprised 
 by a letter from the Due D'Entragues, requesting 
 an interview. He came at the appointed hour; 
 and, in a pompous speech, in which, notwith- 
 standing la politesse Franfaise, he allowed his 
 sense of the honour he was conferring, to be 
 somewhat too evident, formally demanded my 
 hand. Lady Walsingham referred him to me 
 me ; and he entered the saloon, where I was at 
 work, congratulating himself and me, on the 
 agreeable circumstance of not having encoun- 
 tered any resistance from Madame ma Mere: 
 
 " Mothers, " he added, " being generally de- 
 sirous of preventing their daughters from forming 
 matrimonial engagements early in life, lest they
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 141 
 
 should have their seeming age increased by the 
 circumstance of being prematurely rendered 
 grandmothers." 
 
 I blushed with anger, which he attributed to 
 .mauvaise honte ; and attempting to seize my 
 hand, he poured forth a rhapsody of compli- 
 ments, a portion of which he meant for me, but 
 a far larger part for himself. I could scarcely 
 induce him to suppress his self-gratulations, in 
 order that I might explain to him, how mis- 
 placed they were, at least, as far as I was con- 
 cerned: and the expression of his countenance 
 became perfectly ludicrous, as I explicitly, and 
 haughtily gave him an unqualified refusal. 
 
 What ! refuse to be a Duchesse, and of one of 
 the most ancient houses in France? He did 
 not exactly say this, but he implied something 
 very like it. Why then had my mother given 
 her sanction ? but, above all, why could I, as a 
 dutiful daughter, presume to reject the alliance 
 my mother had approved. Such a thing never 
 had been heard of in France, where the hands 
 of sons and daughters are disposed of by their
 
 142 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 parents, without even a reference to the feelings 
 of the parties most concerned. 
 
 It was an amusing scene to behold two people, 
 under our peculiar circumstances, defending the 
 customs of their separate countries; the lover, 
 in the warmth of his defence of the superior wis- 
 dom and propriety of his own national institutions, 
 for a time losing all sight of the violent passion 
 he pretended to experience. When, however, 
 he did recur to it, or rather when he resumed a 
 repetition of the catalogue of the honours and ad- 
 vantages which I might inherit as Madame la 
 Duchesse D'Entragues among which, a tabouret 
 at the chaste court of Louis XV. was not 
 omitted I, in referring to Lady Walsingham, 
 accidentally mentioned the words Belle Mere. 
 
 " How !" demanded he, eagerly, " is Madame 
 la Comtesse de ^Walsingham not your mother, 
 your own real mother ?" 
 
 " Certainly not," replied I, " how could it be 
 possible ? she is only twenty-five years old ; and 
 I shall soon be eighteen." 
 
 " How very odd," said he, " yes, now that I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 143 
 
 remember, though it never struck me before, 
 Lady Walsingham is not an old woman; ma 
 foi, nor a plain one neither. Au contraire, she 
 is good looking : and only twenty-five, did you 
 not say ? C'est Men drole, that I never re- 
 marked this before. Permit me to ask whether 
 Madame la Comtesse has a large fortune?" 
 
 I answered in the affirmative, and stated the 
 amount of her revenue, highly amused at ob- 
 serving the sudden interest excited by my in- 
 formation in the Due's mind, relative to one 
 whom, according to his own confession, he had 
 scarcely even regarded during an acquaintance 
 of some weeks. 
 
 " I never comprehend your English money," 
 observed he, thoughtfully, " Six thousand pounds 
 a year, I think you said ; how much is that in 
 our money ? How many thousand louis d'or 
 does it make ?" 
 
 " You are doubtless, Monsieur le Due, think- 
 ing of transferring the honor meant for me, to 
 my stepmother."
 
 144 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " Another proof of my homage and tendresse 
 for you," replied he, bowing low, " when being 
 so unfortunate as to be rejected by the lovely 
 daughter, I wish to become in some way or other 
 connected with her, by addressing my suit to 
 her amiable relative. Would that you had a 
 sister, charming Lady Arabella, who at all 
 resembled you, but who was less cruel ;" (and he 
 tried to look sentimental) " but as, unfortunately, 
 you have not, I must hope for consolation with 
 Madame votre Belle Mere" 
 
 Highly diverted by the natural levity, and 
 assumed sentimentality of my ci-devant admirer, 
 I asked him how he possibly could have believed 
 that Lady Walsingham could have a daughter 
 of my age. 
 
 " To say the truth," answered he, frankly and 
 gaily, " I never thought about the matter. I 
 heard she was your mother ; and we Frenchmen, 
 when once a lady, and above all an English 
 lady, has passed her teens, never know whether 
 she is twenty-four or forty- four; all from your
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 145 
 
 island are so fair and rosy. However, now that 
 my attention is called to the subject, I must 
 admit that Madame la Comtesse de Walsingham 
 is bieri, tres lien, en verite, but the beauty of 
 Miladi Arabella so far eclipses that of all other 
 women, that I must be pardoned for overlooking 
 that of la belle mere. We forget the stars when 
 the moon is shining, and only remark them when 
 that bright orb is not visible." 
 
 The Due and I parted on more friendly terms 
 than we had ever met before. His gaiety and 
 frivolity amused me ; and the perfect frankness 
 with which he displayed his equal indifference for 
 her who had rejected him, and for her to whom 
 he was intending to be a suitor, had something 
 so irresistibly comic in it, that it was impossible 
 not to be entertained. When he was leaving the 
 room,. I could not repress the desire of telling him 
 that in case his suit was unsuccessful with my 
 stepmother, I knew an English lady at Paris who 
 I thought would have no objection to become 
 Duchess D'Entragues. 
 
 H
 
 146 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 "Ah mechante!" said he, smiling; but, on 
 observing the gravity I assumed, he returned, 
 and continued, 
 
 " Eh bien ! should I be so unhappy as not to 
 be accepted by Madame la Comtesse, I will re- 
 member your aimable offer, charming Lady 
 Arabella, and claim its fulfilment; for, en verite, 
 I admire your nation so much, that I am deter- 
 mined to have an English wife." 
 
 The Due lost not a moment in laying his 
 proposals at the feet, as he gallantly expressed 
 himself, of my stepmother ; who was more sur- 
 prised than gratified by this transfer of his matri- 
 monial intentions. She could scarcely believe it 
 possible that he could so speedily and unblush- 
 ingly avow a sentiment for her that little more 
 than an hour before he had professed to entertain 
 for me ; and he appeared to find it as difficult 
 to comprehend, that she could refuse his suit ; 
 having flattered himself, from the facility with 
 which she, as he fancied, received his overtures 
 for me, that she thought him irresistible.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 147 
 
 All the temptations held out to me were re- 
 peated to her, with the additional one, of the 
 possibility of her rivalling the reigning favourite 
 of that day at Versailles, the celebrated Madame 
 du Barry, and of acquiring an almost regal in- 
 fluence at Court. 
 
 The delicacy of Lady Walsingham precluded 
 her from informing me of this courtier-like in- 
 ducement; but the Due subsequently repeated 
 it himself to some of my friends, as a proof of 
 the want of spirit and of ambition of that low- 
 born Englishwoman. But, what could he expect 
 from the daughter of a priest the offspring of 
 sacrilege? He had not, however, he added, 
 known this shocking circumstance until after he 
 proposed, or never would he have offered her 
 his hand. It was only in such an irreligious 
 country as England that a priest durst acknow- 
 ledge himself to be a father j or that the daughter 
 of such an impious source could find a husband. 
 
 The Due was in so perfect a state of ignorance 
 
 H2
 
 148 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 of our religion, customs, and manners, that he 
 could not comprehend that the ministers of our 
 church were at liberty to marry ; hence he con- 
 cluded Lady Walsingham to be the offspring of 
 sin and shame. 
 
 In two days after his rejection, the femme de 
 chambre of Lady Walsingham, a young English- 
 woman of remarkable beauty, with tears and 
 blushes, informed her mistress that the French 
 Due was tormenting her with insulting proposals 
 and letters. He had accidentally beheld the 
 pretty Fanny; and, being disappointed in his 
 offers to the two ladies of the family, addressed 
 less honourable, but perhaps more sincere vows, 
 to the maid. She gave his letter to Lady 
 Walsingham ; and I begged it of her. The 
 following is a faithful transcript of it. 
 
 " My pretty heart, you have charm me. I 
 loaf you, and link you much too pretty to be von 
 femme de chambre. If you will loaf me, I vill 
 make you von grande ladi. You shall have von
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 149 
 
 charmant entre sol, des bijoux, afemme de chambre, 
 and a carriage, and never notings to do but amuse 
 yourself, and loaf your devoted 
 
 " LE Due D'E. 
 
 . " My valet de chambre vill bring me your 
 ansire." 
 
 Vexed as we were at this unprincipled attempt 
 to corrupt the pretty and innocent Fanny, we 
 could not resist a smile at the delectable billet- 
 doux, which made no other impression on her 
 to whom it was addressed, than indignation. 
 
 We quitted Paris in a few days, leaving the 
 Due D'Estragues to look out for new conquests, 
 and to ridicule the want of taste of English 
 women of all classes. Lord Clydesdale remained 
 at Paris, but a short time after our departure ; 
 and our next meeting was at Naples. The 
 pleasure exhibited in his countenance at our 
 rencontre, again awakened hope in my heart; 
 whence it had lately been nearly banished, from 
 observing his avoidance of every thing like 
 marked attention. Our brief separation seemed
 
 150 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 to have thrown him off his guard ; or, perhaps, 
 it might be, that knowing the environs of Naples, 
 and witnessing our desire to explore them, good 
 nature tempted him to offer himself as our 
 cicerone. No day passed in which we were not 
 together; and each one found me still more 
 assured of the deep hold he possessed over my 
 affections, and less sanguine of that which I 
 longed to obtain over his. 
 
 There were so few English travellers, at 
 Naples, and the Neapolitans mingled so little 
 with them, save on occasions of large balls, at 
 which the English minister had the privilege of 
 presenting his compatriots, that our habitual 
 circle was much more circumscribed than at 
 Paris. This seemed to gratify Lord Clydesdale; 
 and increased the intimacy between us. We 
 
 v 
 
 seldom parted at night without making an 
 arrangement for some excursion for the follow- 
 ing day; and time flew with a rapidity known 
 only to those whose hearts are filled by a passion, 
 which, in presence of its object, and suiTounded
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 151 
 
 by new and exciting scenery, gives a tenfold 
 power to the wings of the hoary veteran. 
 
 The habitual pensiveness of Lord Clydesdale's 
 manner seemed gradually to disappear ; and to be 
 replaced by a cheerfulness which, if it amounted 
 not to gaiety, was more attractive to me. I have 
 remarked that the generality of my sex prefer 
 those of the other who are of a grave and senti- 
 mental turn ; provided always, that the gravity 
 proceeds not from dulness, but from a reflective 
 cast of mind, which increases their respect, while 
 it adds to the interest they experience. I have 
 known a pale face and a pensive manner make 
 impressions on female hearts that had success- 
 fully resisted the attacks of ruddy countenances 
 and exhilirating gaiety : the possessor of these 
 agremens being more calculated to amuse than 
 interest, are rarely remembered when absent. 
 Women seldom forget the man who makes them 
 sigh; but rarely recur to him who has excited 
 their mirth, even though a brilliant wit may 
 have been displayed in his bon mots and good
 
 152 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 stories. He, therefore, who would captivate the 
 fastidious taste of le beau sexe, must eschew too 
 frequent smiles, even though he may have fine 
 teeth ; and must likewise avoid occasioning or 
 promoting the exhibition of those pearly orna- 
 ments in her he wishes to permanently please. 
 
 The newly acquired cheerfulness of Lord 
 Clydesdale however gratified me beyond mea- 
 sure, because I attributed it to the effect of my 
 presence on him : and I hailed it as the harbinger 
 of an explicit acknowledgment of my power, and 
 a demand for the hand I longed to give him ; the 
 heart having already anticipated his solicitation. 
 
 While returning from the beautiful and ro- 
 mantic island of Ischia, where we had sojourned 
 for a few days, and gliding over a moonlit sea, 
 smooth and polished, as though it were a vast 
 mirror spread out to reflect the heavens, Lord 
 Clydesdale first spoke to me of love. Even now, 
 though age has thrown its snow, not only on my 
 tresses, but on my heart, that evening is remem- 
 bered, nearly as vividly as if it had lately passed.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 153 
 
 Nay ! What do I say? Infinitely more vividly; 
 for the events of recent years seem to me more 
 vague and indistinct than those of my early 
 youth. As we approach the grave, our mother's 
 breast, a second childhood is mercifully granted 
 us; and we retain only the impressions which 
 were stamped on the heart by the affections, while 
 those of reason fade from the brain. Nature 
 engraved the first; but experience formed the 
 second. One is felt; the other has only been 
 thought. 
 
 Yes, even now, in mental vision, I behold 
 with a clearness to which my dim eyes can no 
 more assist me, the dark, blue unruffled sea of the 
 unrivalled Bay of Naples, with the glorious orb 
 of light, and the thousand brilliant stars reflected 
 on its glassy bosom. I hear the stroke of the 
 oars, every movement of which sends forth a 
 phosphoric effulgence from the surface of the 
 waters, like a glittering sheet of molten silver. I 
 hear the plaintive hymn of the peasants returning 
 in the market boats from Naples; or the gay bar- 
 
 H3
 
 154 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 carole of the fishermen, mingled with the sounds 
 of guitars and soft voices, that float past us. I 
 see the island of Procida, in our rear, on the left, 
 with CapeMisenum; and on the right, the fairy 
 island of Nisida rising like an enchanted castle 
 at the touch of some necromancer, from the 
 bosom of the deep. Yes, all the scenes are pre- 
 sent to my imagination, with the delicious reverie 
 to which they gave birth, and the face of him I 
 loved ; on which the beams of the moon shed a 
 light that increased the intellectual character of 
 its beauty. 
 
 We had been silent some time, each occupied, 
 or rather abstracted, and softened by the in- 
 fluence of the balmy air of that luxuriant climate, 
 and the surrounding loveliness of Nature. At 
 length he spoke 
 
 " Such a night and such a scene as this are 
 rarely granted to us of the cold and sunless 
 north. There is something soothing, calm, and 
 holy in its influence. ; and yet, though sweet and 
 soothing, it is melancholy too."
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 155 
 
 His voice was low and musical, and his coun- 
 tenance was in harmony with its tone ; for it was 
 mild, but mournful. 
 
 " This repose and beauty of nature," resumed 
 he, "make one feel increased tenderness for those 
 dear to us, still spared, with whom we share the 
 enjoyment : but it also brings back the memory 
 of those we have loved and lost with whom we 
 can share it no more. Can you, fair Arabella, 
 who as yet have known only the cloudless spring 
 of life, comprehend that while mourning an ob- 
 ject, once inexpressibly dear, and still fondly 
 remembered, the heart may awaken to another 
 attachment; may again indulge emotions believed 
 to be for ever departed ; and may dare to hope 
 to meet sympathy where now all its wishes point ? 
 When I saw you, dear Arabella, I thought I 
 could never love again ; I was so certain that 
 my heart was dead to that passion, and buried 
 in the early grave of her who first taught it to 
 throb with tenderness, that I fearlessly trusted 
 myself in the dangerous ordeal of your society.
 
 156 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 I found I was in error ; such attractions have 
 proved their irresistible empire ; and I love you, 
 truly, tenderly. May I indulge a hope that you 
 will be my sweet consoler for past disappoint- 
 ment, and sorrow ; and that you will teach this 
 care-worn heart to forget all but you." 
 
 He paused, and I was speechless from emotion. 
 At length, then, the certainty of knowing myself 
 beloved was mine ! a certainty that, previously to 
 its existence, would, I fancied, have conferred 
 unutterable happiness upon me. Did it now 
 produce this effect ! Alas ! No ! The felicity 
 such a conviction would have bestowed was de- 
 stroyed by the mortifying fact of ascertaining that 
 he had loved another ; that the bloom and fresh- 
 ness of a first passion could never be mine ; and 
 that I inspired only a second, perhaps a much 
 less fervent affection than my predecessor had 
 excited in the heart, where I wished to have 
 reigned alone ! Severe was my disappointment, 
 as jealousy aye, jealousy of the dead shot its 
 envenomed arrows through my heart.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 157 
 
 I could have wept in very bitterness; but 
 shame, womanly shame, checked this exposure 
 of the secret feelings of my soul ; and silent and 
 trembling I almost feared to trust myself with 
 words. 
 
 " You answer me not, dearest Arabella," re- 
 sumed Lord Clydesdale, his voice tremulous 
 with emotion, " Have I then deceived myself in 
 thinking that I might hope to create an interest 
 in that gentle heart ?" 
 
 Tears involuntarily filled my eyes ; I longed 
 to, but dared not tell him that my silence pro- 
 ceeded from no want of the sentiment he de- 
 sired to create but, alas ! rather from an excess 
 of it, which rendered me wretched at the know- 
 ledge that he had loved before. A thought of 
 rejecting his suit now that I found with what 
 bitter feelings an acceptance of it would be ac- 
 companied crossed my mind ; but I turned 
 affrighted from the contemplation of banishing 
 from my sight, the only being whose presence 
 was necessary to my happiness. No ! I would
 
 158 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 accept the portion of his heart that might still 
 be mine I would deign to occupy a small 
 niche in that temple, dedicated to the worship 
 of the dead. I, proud and haughty as I was, 
 would try to be satisfied with the ashes of a fire 
 which another had kindled; but even this humi- 
 liation was less painful than to lose him altogether. 
 These thoughts passed rapidly through my mind. 
 The misery of years was compressed into the 
 brief period which had elapsed since his avowal 
 of affection : and already my heart had grown 
 old in suffering. I gave him my hand, for I 
 could not speak ; and he pressed it fondly to his 
 lips, while he murmured words of tenderness, 
 which soothed, though they did not satisfy, the 
 demon jealousy that was writhing within my 
 tortured breast. Had any one told me that I 
 should thus feel when first assured of his pre- 
 ference, how would I have denied the possibility ! 
 Tears I might have believed would flow; for 
 joy and grief declare themselves by this dew of 
 the heart : but I would have asserted that mine
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 159 
 
 would be tears of joyful tenderness, of grateful, 
 softened happiness. What were they now ? The 
 waters of bitterness, springing from a fountain 
 newly opened in the soul, and never again to be 
 sealed, except by death. 
 
 Before we separated on that eventful night, 
 he asked permission to inform Lady Walsing- 
 ham that I had not rejected him. The very 
 terms he used softened me ; for they indicated 
 that he had remarked, that my manner of re- 
 ceiving his suit was more like a non-rejection 
 than a positive acceptance of it; a delicate and 
 discerning homage that gratified my sensitive- 
 ness. 
 
 Never did hermit or philosopher reflect more 
 on the disappointments that await the hopes of 
 mortals, than did I, through the long and sleep- 
 less night which followed Lord Clydesdale's 
 declaration of love : that declaration which I 
 fancied was to have conferred unmingled felicity. 
 As the whispered words of tenderness he had 
 breathed in my ear were recalled, the recol-
 
 160 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 lection that similar words had been poured iuto 
 the ear of another, came to torment me. The 
 soft glances of love with which he sought to meet 
 my eyes when urging his suit, had been often 
 fixed on another, perhaps a fairer and dearer 
 face; and the gentle pressure of his hand had 
 often been felt by one who had enjoyed all the 
 bloom and freshness of his first affections. Had 
 he ceased to love her ? that he had not ceased 
 to remember and mourn her, he had confessed ; 
 and now my fond and fervent affection was to be 
 repaid by the comparatively cold and languid 
 one of a disappointed and exhausted heart. 
 
 And yet there were moments in .which my 
 better feelings prevailed moments in which I 
 pitied the sorrow he had endured, and almost 
 determined to sacrifice my selfish regrets, and 
 devote my life to his happiness. Yes, I would 
 be the soother of the traces left by past grief; and 
 the creator of new hopes, new blessings. I 
 would generously stifle my own disappointment 
 in pity to his ; I would question him on all that
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 161 
 
 he had endured, identify myself by the force of 
 my sympathy with his mournful recollections of 
 her he had lost ; and teach him gently, gradually, 
 to forget her, in his devoted attachment to me. 
 How ardently did I long to hear every particular 
 connected with his former passion. Was the 
 object beautiful ? How strange is the human 
 heart ! My vanity led me to wish that she had 
 been fair in no ordinary degree; for there is 
 something peculiarly humiliating to a woman 
 vain of her own pretensions to beauty, in be- 
 coming the successor of a plain one, in the 
 affections of a husband. And yet I had a latent 
 dread, that, if she had been as lovely as 1 was 
 disposed to imagine her, the recollections of her 
 attractions might eclipse the reality of mine. In 
 short, my ill-governed mind was in such a state 
 of morbid excitement, that I scarcely knew what 
 I desired. Only one sentiment stood promi- 
 nently forth above all others, and that was 
 disappointment, deep and bitter disappoint- 
 ment, arising in the consciousness that all the
 
 162 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 wild and fond illusions of love, which I wished 
 him whom I adored to have entertained for the 
 first and only time for me, he had already ex- 
 perienced. Then came the thought, that I too, 
 had loved before; and yet in this my second 
 attachment, none of the fond illusions that cha- 
 racterised the first were wanting. 
 
 There was some comfort in this recollection ; 
 until it was followed by the painful one, that my 
 first affection, having been unpartaken by him 
 who inspired it, had never been cemented by the 
 thousand nameless but powerful associations that 
 only a mutual tenderness can bestow. Mine 
 was nothing more than a mere girlish fancy, 
 never matured by sympathy, or rendered in- 
 delible by reciprocity. I forgot in the excitement 
 of the actual present, all the sufferings of the 
 less vivid past. The waking dreams, sleepless 
 nights, and tear-stained pillow, were all for- 
 gotten ; and the passion which, while it existed, 
 I had believed to have been as violent as inde- 
 structible, was now considered to be nothing
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 163 
 
 more than an evanescent preference. Strange 
 infatuation ! the repetition of which has induced 
 some mortals, with susceptible feelings, to regard 
 their hearts as plants, that, though subject to the 
 laws of nature in casting off their leaves at 
 certain periods, can always put forth fresh shoots, 
 and bloom again as genially as before. I even 
 excused the intensity of my present sentiments 
 over those of my past, by the superiority of the 
 object which had given them birth. The graceful, 
 the dignified Lord Clydesdale, with his noble air 
 and polished manners, cast into shade the hand- 
 some person, but grave and simple demeanour, 
 of Frederick Melville. Nay, I now wondered 
 how I ever could have been captivated by him, 
 and smiled at my own delusion. 
 
 Such are some of the incongruities of that 
 almost inexplicable enigma, a woman's heart. 
 
 When Lady Walsingham congratulated me 
 next day on the prospect of happiness that now 
 opened to me, and expressed her warm appro- 
 bation of my suitor, I could scarcely restrain my
 
 164 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 tears ; and I looked so little joyous on the 
 occasion, that she positively imagined she had 
 been in error, in supposing that Lord Clydesdale 
 had interested my feelings. Little did she know 
 the tumult to which my mind was a prey at that 
 moment ! for though I had so often experienced 
 her sympathizing kindness, a latent sentiment, it 
 might be vanity, or shame, or both, prevented me 
 from avowing my real sentiments. 
 
 When Lord Clydesdale came, the increased 
 tenderness and animation of his manner re- 
 assured me. The solicitude with which he 
 marked my pallid cheek and swoln eyes, was so 
 apparent, that hope whispered that love alone, 
 could have excited such interest. I longed, yet 
 feared, to question him of the past, when we were 
 alone. I dreaded to revive an image in his recol- 
 lection, which I desired, oh ! how anxiously de- 
 sired, might be banished from it forever ; and yet 
 the thought of her whose memory I dreaded to 
 recall, was so predominant in mine, and filled me 
 with such painful emotions, that I felt that I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 165 
 
 could have no peace until he should have reposed 
 in my breast the mournful tale of his former 
 attachment. Often did the question hover on my 
 lips ; and as often did it die away, without my 
 being able to frame words that would elicit his 
 confidence without betraying the secret jealousy 
 which was torturing me. There is a conscious 
 unworthiness in jealousy, which, if the victim be 
 proud, makes her shrink from its exhibition. 
 I felt this powerfully, and added to it, was the 
 dread of forfeiting his esteem, by the display of 
 this egotistical passion. I am now surprised 
 when I reflect on the duplicity with which I 
 affected a strong sympathy in his regret for her 
 he had lost: and still more surprised, when 
 I remember how completely he was the dupe of 
 this pretended sympathy. His love for me seemed 
 positively to have been increased tenfold, by the 
 interest I evinced in the fate of my predecessor. 
 My generosity, so superior, as he said, to that of 
 the generality of females, delighted him. 
 
 How little did he know the heart of woman !
 
 166 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 For though there may be many who might be 
 gentle enough to regret an unknown individual 
 of their own sex, who is represented as having 
 gone down young, beautiful, and good, to an 
 early grave, while yet love and hope would fain 
 have bound her to earth, few have sufficient self- 
 control to conquer her jealous emotions, while 
 listening to the recapitulation of the perfections 
 of the lost one ; or the grief her loss had excited 
 in the breast of the object of her own affection. 
 A man precludes a similar confidence from the 
 woman he loves, by openly displaying his total 
 want of sympathy, in any allusion to previous 
 attachments, even should a woman be so devoid 
 of tact as to make them ; while we of the softer 
 sex, though pained to the heart by such dis- 
 closures, shrink from checking them, though they 
 are hoarded in the memory, to be often dwelt 
 upon, but never without pain. 
 
 This peculiar dislike to the belief of a lover 
 ever having before experienced the tender 
 passion, has been often ascribed to vanity ; but I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 167 
 
 believe it originates in a delicacy less repre- 
 hensible, and consequently more entitled to 
 commiseration. Devoid of refinement and deli- 
 cacy must that woman be, who, having accepted 
 a suitor, entertains him with lamentations for, 
 or descriptions of, the one who preceded him : 
 like the lady, who, when married a second time, 
 dwelt so fondly and perpetually on the merits of 
 her poor dear first husband, that she compelled 
 his successor to declare, that however much she 
 might regret the defunct, he still more truly 
 mourned his death. It is this indelicacy that led 
 a man, who knew human nature well, to assert 
 that a man should never marry a widow, however 
 attractive, whose first husband had not been 
 hanged; as that ignominious catastrophe fur- 
 nished the only security for her not continually 
 reverting to him. 
 
 But to resume the thread of my narrative : 
 no day elapsed, that Lord Clydesdale did not 
 inflict a jealous pang on my heart, by some 
 unconscious reference to past times ; until at last
 
 168 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 my apparent sympathy lured him into a more 
 explicit disclosure of his feelings; and he related 
 the story of his first love. 
 
 It was a simple one ; but the intensity of his 
 emotion in repeating it, the warmth with which 
 he dwelt on the personal and mental charms of 
 her he had lost, wounded me to the soul. Yet, 
 though writhing under the infliction, I so 
 skillfully concealed my sufferings, that he was 
 the dupe to my affected interest about one to 
 whose death alone, I owed his present affection. 
 There is a great though secret pleasure in 
 talking of any former attachment, that has not 
 been dissolved by circumstances humiliating to 
 vanity. Those broken by inconstancy, are sel- 
 dom recurred to, because they are mortifying 
 to self-love. But to dwell on a love that ended 
 but with life, and to repeat incidents strongly 
 indicative of the force of the attachment of the de- 
 ceased, is one of the greatest, though apparently 
 the least, egotistical gratifications to which our 
 amour propre can have recourse. One can repeat
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 169 
 
 how well she loved him, in a thousand varied 
 ways, without shocking the ears of the confidant, 
 by his self-eulogiums ; yet each of these examples 
 of the passion that has been felt for the narrator, 
 may be considered as indubitable proofs of his 
 attractions, and merits. 
 
 Lord Clydesdale's first love, was a young and 
 fascinating creature, born with the germe of a 
 disease, that seems ever to select the fairest objects 
 for its prey. Consumption, which, like the 
 Pagans of old, adorns its victims for the sacrifice, 
 had rendered the beauty of the youthful Lucinda 
 Harcourt still more dazzlingly bright. The 
 hectic of her cheek, the lustre of her eye, and 
 the deep vermilion of her lips, those sure and 
 fatal symptoms of the destroyer, which like the 
 canker-worm in the rose, feeds on its core while 
 the external petals still wear their fresh hue, 
 were considered by her lover, as charms pe- 
 culiarly her own, and not as indications of 
 incipient disease. Even in relating her lingering 
 illness, and mournful death, he seemed uncon- 
 
 i
 
 170 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 scious that she fell a prey to a malady hereditary 
 in her family, and to which her mother owed her 
 death in the bloom of youth. No, with the 
 delusion inherent in mortals, which ever seeks, 
 even in misfortune some salve from vanity, he 
 attributed the untimely death of the fair Lucinda 
 to the unwonted agitation produced by the exces- 
 sive attachment, with which he had inspired her 
 youthful breast; and the anxiety attending the 
 period, previous to his formal demand of her 
 hand, for it appears that he had, though deeply 
 smitten, taken a considerable period to reflect, 
 before he proposed for her. He spoke in such 
 panegyrics of the transparency of her com- 
 plexion, and the sylph-like fragility of her form, 
 that I almost longed to possess these infallible 
 symptoms of disease ; as I dreaded his comparing 
 my healthful but less attractive bloom, and 
 rounded figure, with the evanescent charms he 
 so rapturously described. 
 
 " Have you no picture of her?" asked I, 
 trembling, lest he should draw forth from his
 
 
 

 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 171 
 
 breast, a treasured miniature carefully concealed 
 from prying eyes. 
 
 " Yes," replied he, " I have an admirable re- 
 semblance of her, which you shall see, and which 
 has never left my breast since I lost her, until 
 you, fair and dear Arabella, listened to my suit." 
 I involuntarily placed my hand within his, at 
 this acknowledgement ; for I felt grateful for the 
 delicacy of the renunciation of the portrait. Nay, 
 in consideration of it I almost forgave the warmth 
 of his praises of her ; for, slight as the circum- 
 stance was, it made a great impression on me. 
 
 The next day, he brought the miniature, and 
 though I had been prepared to expect beauty of 
 no ordinary kind, I confess that the extreme 
 loveliness of the portrait surprised ay, and shall 
 I own the truth ? displeased me. If I had pre- 
 viously indulged a jealousy of the fair Lucinda, 
 what were my jealous pangs now, that I beheld 
 the radiant beauty of her face. The artist had 
 caught the almost seraphic expression of her 
 countenance, that fine and elevated expression, 
 
 i2
 
 172 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 where the purity of the angel seems to have 
 already descended on the suffering saint. It 
 wanted only a halo round the head, to be one 
 of the best personifications of a martyred saint 
 ascending to heaven ; and I, even 7, could not 
 repress the tear that fell on the crystal that 
 covered it, though the source whence it sprang 
 was not free from alloy. 
 
 This apparen, sympathy, while it rendered 
 me dearer to Lord Clydesdale, lured him into a 
 still more frequent recurrence to the object of 
 his first love. He judged more favourably of 
 me than I deserved, in imputing to me a free- 
 dom from that envy, and jealousy, from which 
 so few of my sex are exempt ; arid I had not 
 courage to risk the forfeiture of this good opinion, 
 by acknowledging how little it was merited. Had 
 I avowed my weakness, how much unhappiness 
 should I not have escaped ! But no, pride, the 
 most dangerous passion which can approach 
 love, forbade it; and I yielded to its unwise
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 173 
 
 It was agreed between Lord Clydesdale and 
 myself, that our marriage should not take place 
 until our return to England. But as we were 
 considered affianced, we spent the greater part 
 of 'every day together; and each day seemed 
 to cement our mutual affection, as we drew 
 plans for the future, and built castles in the air. 
 Life is at best but a shadowy scene, some charm 
 of which vanishes every day ; the actual enjoy- 
 ments, few and far between, often poisoned by 
 untoward circumstances, or followed by painful 
 regret. Are we not then wise, in creating for 
 ourselves the innocent pleasure of fancy building? 
 where Hope, the syren, helps to erect the struc- 
 ture, and almost cheats Reason into believing the 
 possibility of its completion. Those were indeed 
 blissful days ! when beneath the blue skies of 
 genial Italy, and wandering by the as blue waters 
 of the Mediterranean sea that mirrored them, 
 the balmy air of the delicious climate of Naples, 
 made its influence known by exhilirating our 
 spirits, and diffusing its softness over our feelings.
 
 174 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 And yet the bliss was not unalloyed ! When 
 was that of mortals ever so ? though each believes 
 himself worthy of happiness, and likely, if not 
 sure, to attain it. 
 
 The more tenderness Lord Clydesdale seemed 
 to evince, and the more warmth I myself expe- 
 rienced, the more susceptible did I become of 
 the assaults of the fiend jealousy ; each successive 
 attack lacerating my heart more cruelly. Every 
 allusion to the lost Lucinda tortured me ; and yet 
 I had myself at the commencement encouraged 
 these allusions. Now that I believed myself 
 beloved, and felt with what passionate tender- 
 ness I repaid the affection of Lord Clydesdale, 
 a recurrence to his former passion appeared an 
 insult, and an injustice, that I was disposed to 
 resent with an anger that required the exertion 
 of all my reasoning powers to subdue. 
 
 At length I took courage, and asked him to 
 let me have the portrait of Lucinda. He looked 
 surprised hesitated ; and then demanded why 
 I wished to possess it? I acknowledged that I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 175 
 
 considered it so exquisitely beautiful, that while 
 it remained in his keeping I should always dread 
 his contemplation of it might elicit comparisons 
 highly disadvantageous to my own inferior at- 
 tractions. This avowal drew from him some of 
 those praises peculiar to love, which, however 
 exaggerated, are never unacceptable; and he 
 yielded the portrait, though with reluctance, on 
 my solemn promise that it should be carefully 
 guarded and considered a sacred deposit. 
 
 The possession of this long coveted treasure 
 soothed and calmed the demon in my breast for 
 many days; yet each time I gazed on it, the 
 angelic softness and beauty of the countenance 
 reillumined the nearly extinguished spark of 
 jealousy in my mind. I have, after contemplating 
 it long and attentively, sought my mirror, and 
 tried to think the image it reflected was not so 
 very far inferior to this captivating picture, as 
 jealousy whispered it to be. But, alas ! not all 
 the suggestions of vanity could blind me to the
 
 176 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 immeasurable superiority of the countenance of 
 Lucinda, that dead rival, who in her grave, as I 
 fancied, still triumphed over me. It was true, 
 my finely chiselled features and the perfect oval 
 of my face might have contested with her 
 the palm of beauty ; but the expression oh ! 
 how infinitely did mine fall short of hers ! I 
 forgot in contemplating my own countenance 
 that the baleful passions of envy and jealousy 
 which pervaded my heart at that moment, lent 
 their disfiguring influence to my face. No 
 wonder, then, that I was conscious of the vast 
 difference between a physiognomy, expressive 
 only of a heavenly calm, and that in which 
 worldly and sinful feelings were delineated. 
 
 The sunshine produced by my lover's re- 
 nunciation of the portrait had made itself mani- 
 fest many days; when, one luckless evening, 
 while seated on the balcony of the Palazzo we 
 inhabited, and engaged in that dreamy, tender 
 conversation into which lovers are prone to fall,
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 177 
 
 on my expressing some doubt of the depth and 
 devotion of his love, he passionately seized my 
 hand, and exclaimed, 
 
 " Yes, adored Lucinda ! Arabella I would 
 say" 
 
 " You need not complete the sentence," inter- 
 rupted I, coldly, "it is but natural that the 
 name of the object which is most dearly treasured 
 in your memory should sometimes escape from 
 your lips." 
 
 " This is unjust and cruel, Arabella," said he, 
 " you know, or ought to know, how inexpressibly 
 dear you are to my heart, when all its feelings, 
 all its regrets, have been bared to your view. 
 Why have you deceived me by an apparent 
 sympathy, if you could not bear with an oc- 
 casional, an involuntary recurrence to the past?" 
 
 The gentleness of his reproach, which had so 
 much more of sorrow than of anger in it, dis- 
 armed my displeasure. I felt ashamed of my 
 petulance, and had an instinctive presentiment 
 
 i3
 
 178 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 that by this selfish ebullition I had forfeited some 
 portion of his esteem. 
 
 " I should be unworthy of your affection, 
 dearest Arabella," resumed he, " were I capable 
 of deceiving you by asserting that I ever could 
 banish the memory of her who in life was so 
 beloved. But that memory, mournful though 
 it be, precludes not the fondest, truest affection 
 for you. Nay, you should consider the constancy 
 of my attachment to one in her grave, as a gage 
 of that which shall bind me to the only being on 
 earth who could console me for her loss." 
 
 I refused not the hand he now pressed to his 
 lips ; a few kind words and gentle tears on my 
 part marked our renewed amity, and we parted 
 that night as lovers part after a reconciliation 
 of their first misunderstanding; for the harsh 
 name of quarrel I could not give it. 
 
 But, though we met in fondness next day, 
 and every day for many weeks, confidence was 
 banished between us. The name of Lucinda, or
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 179 
 
 any reference to her, never escaped his lips ; but 
 this self-imposed silence and constraint tortured 
 me more than his former lavish praises or tender 
 regrets had ever done. The demon jealousy 
 whispered, that though the name was banished 
 from his lips, her image had become more 
 tenaciously fixed in his heart; and that an opinion 
 of my selfishness and want of self-control had 
 led to this reserve and increased seriousness on 
 his part. This conviction haunted and goaded 
 me ; yet I dared not trust myself to utter a word 
 of it to him. I feared to sink still lower in his 
 estimation, or to be hurried into some expression 
 of harshness that might lead to a serious mis- 
 understanding, perhaps a rupture; and such a 
 result, even in moments of the greatest mental 
 excitement, I dared not contemplate, so warm 
 and fervent was my attachment to him. 
 
 How narrowly, and with what lynx eyes, did I 
 examine his countenance every day when we 
 met. A shade of sadness on his brow, or an in-
 
 180 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 voluntary sigh, angered me ; they were received 
 as incontrovertible proofs that his thoughts were 
 on my dead rival. 
 
 Our tete-a-tetes were no longer marked by 
 that outpouring of the soul, that boundless con- 
 fidence which had formerly existed between us ; 
 and both were conscious of this change, though 
 anxious to conceal it from each other. His 
 conversation now referred wholly to the future ; 
 he avoided all reference to his past life, as if it 
 had been stained by some crime of deep die; and 
 I felt as if there was a gulph between us that 
 is, between our souls' communion. The con- 
 sciousness of this gulph having been created 
 by my own waywardness, added to the bitter- 
 ness of my feelings ; I became silent and ab- 
 stracted ; and though he was never ceasing in 
 his attentions, the sense of our mutual constraint 
 now robbed them of their greatest charm in my 
 estimation. 
 
 It was at this period that Sir Augustus Fau-
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 181 
 
 conberg, an intimate friend of Lord Clydesdale, 
 arrived at Naples. He established himself in 
 the same hotel with him, and was presented to 
 us. He was one or two years senior to Lord 
 Clydesdale, and remarkably good looking, ac- 
 complished, and agreeable. His presence was a 
 relief to us all; for his vivacity, though finely 
 tempered by good breeding, never failed to 
 enliven those with whom he associated. A short 
 time before, I should have considered the pre- 
 sence of a stranger in our limited circle as an 
 unwelcome interruption to the frequent tete-d- 
 t&es I enjoyed with my affianced husband ; for 
 Lady Walsingham devoted much of her time to 
 feminine occupations, and left us much alone ; 
 but now, those tete-a-tdtes had lost their chief 
 attraction. The chain of love still bound us, but 
 the flowers that wreathed and concealed its links 
 had, one by one, withered and dropped off. 
 Neither of us wished for freedom, nor dared 
 anticipate division, but all the sweetness of love 
 had departed; we were not happy together,
 
 182 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 and yet we dreaded to try if we could support 
 separation. 
 
 One evening I had remarked, with anger, 
 blended with sorrow, that Lord Clydesdale 
 appeared to be more than usually depressed. 
 Instead of soothing him by kindness, I main- 
 tained a sullen silence ; and even when he bade 
 us adieu for the night, I returned not the pressure 
 of his hand, but suffered mine to remain cold 
 and passive within his grasp, as if it had been 
 a lifeless substance. 
 
 My heart reproached me for this unkindness 
 during the night; and I made good resolves for 
 the coming day. Indeed, so salutary were my 
 reflections, that I determined henceforth to con- 
 quer my waywardness; and by resuming my 
 former confiding tenderness, win back his. 
 
 I longed, impatiently longed, for his visit; 
 I counted the hours that must intervene before 
 the arrival of that which usually brought him to 
 our Palazzo ; and attired myself with more than 
 my accustomed care, that I might appear more
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 183 
 
 attractive in his eyes. I seemed to awake from 
 a disagreeable dream ; and the recollection of my 
 own too frequent fits of silence and sullenness, 
 to which his forbearing gentleness, and constant 
 affection, formed a striking contrast, rose up 
 to reproach me. Yes, I would amply repay 
 him for all my past suspicions and unkindness, 
 and never more give way to them. In this 
 frame of mind I left my chamber. My mirror 
 told me, that never had I looked more attractive. 
 I had attired myself in his favourite colours, 
 wore a bracelet and ring, his gifts, and, with a 
 throbbing heart, awaited his coming. 
 
 Hour after hour elapsed, and he appeared not ; 
 a thousand vague forebodings of evil haunted 
 me I could settle to no occupation, but kept 
 continually walking on the balcony that over- 
 looked the street by which he must approach, in 
 order to catch a glance of him. 
 
 At length, Lady Walsingham entered the sa- 
 loon ; and observed that she had thought Lord 
 Clydesdale was there. When informed that I
 
 184 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 had not seen him, she appeared really uneasy ; 
 for, though she then mentioned not the report 
 to me, she had that morning heard that an 
 epidemic disease had, during the last few days, 
 been making great ravages in the town ; and, 
 consequently, coupled his unusual absence with 
 this startling intelligence. A servant was in- 
 stantly dispatched to the hotel where Lord 
 Clydesdale resided, to inquire for him : and my 
 fears were excited, and Lady Walsingham's con- 
 firmed, by the information that Lord Clydesdale 
 had not left his chamber that day. 
 
 " But here, my lady," said our servant, " is a 
 letter which the porter forgot to send your lady- 
 ship ; and which ought to have been delivered 
 this morning." 
 
 To break the seal and devour the contents of 
 this billet, was the work of a moment. A few 
 lines stated, that a slight indisposition would 
 confine the writer to his apartment for that 
 day, but that the next would see him at our 
 Palazzo. An air of constraint pervaded this
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 185 
 
 note, which I instantly attributed to his desire 
 of concealing the extent of his malady. My 
 heart died within me as the idea of his danger 
 presented itself to my mind; and ardently did I 
 wish that I were his wife, that I might have 
 
 ' O 
 
 the privilege of watching over his sick couch, 
 as love only can watch. I magnified his danger 
 until the most painful images were conjured up 
 to my terrified imagination. I fancied him ill 
 dying and I, though his betrothed, precluded, 
 by the usages of the world, from alleviating 
 his sufferings, or receiving his last sigh. How 
 impatiently did I writhe under these bitter 
 thoughts ! how execrate my own folly, for 
 ever having annoyed him by my petulance, or 
 wounded him by my selfish and wayward jea- 
 lousy ! What resolutions, instigated by " the late 
 remorse of love," did I form, never again, should 
 it please Heaven to restore him to me, to give 
 him cause for reproach or chagrin. Yes, I 
 would conquer my own feelings, and attend 
 solely to his. Though aware how deeply, how
 
 186 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 tenderly I was devoted to him, I knew not until 
 the thought of his danger took possession of me, 
 how wholly, how passionately my soul doted 
 upon him ! 
 
 I threw myself into a bergere, and covering 
 my face with my hands, wept in uncontrollable 
 anguish ; heedless of the attempts at consolation, 
 made by my tender and true friend Lady Wal- 
 singham. She was suggesting the expediency 
 of sending an English physician to Lord Clydes- 
 dale, when the door of the apartment was thrown 
 open, and Sir Augustus Fauconberg entered. 
 
 " Tell me, I entreat you, tell me how he is ?" 
 I exclaimed, reckless of betraying my tearful 
 agitation. He hesitated and looked aghast. 
 This conduct verified my fears. 
 
 " I am prepared for the worst," resumed I, 
 " I see his danger in your face ; it is confirmed 
 to me by your hesitation. Let me, I implore 
 you, hear it at once, or this suspense will de- 
 stroy me." 
 
 " 1 really do not comprehend," replied he
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 187 
 
 with a face of astonishment. " Who is ill, or in 
 danger? for I am not aware that any indi- 
 vidual in whom we take an interest is in that 
 predicament." 
 
 I viewed this speech as a goodnatured subter- 
 fuge, used to avoid declaring the real state of 
 the case; and it almost maddened me. Lady 
 Walsingham observing me to be incapable of 
 articulating another word, so overpowered was 
 I by my feelings, here interposed; and stated 
 that we had heard that Lord Clydesdale was 
 confined to his chamber by indisposition. 
 
 " I assure you I was totally ignorant of it," 
 answered Sir Augustus ; " but the truth is, I 
 told Clydesdale last night that I intended to 
 proceed to Sorento to-day with some friends of 
 mine, so that he believes me gone. They~ 
 changed their plans, and, as I had risen early, I 
 have been making an excursion in the environs. 
 Still, I think there must be some mistake, for 
 I saw Clydesdale's valet de chambre this morning ; 
 and he said nothing of the circumstance.*'
 
 188 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " It is, nevertheless, I fear, but too true," 
 replied Lady Walsingham, " for Lady Arabella 
 received a note from Lord Clydesdale, which, 
 though it makes light of his indisposition, refers 
 to it as the cause for not coming here to-day." 
 
 " When did the note arrive?" demanded Sir 
 Augustus. 
 
 " Only a short time before you entered." 
 
 " And Lady Arabella has received no other 
 note from Clydesdale ? " 
 
 " No other," answered I, still weeping. 
 
 " It is strange," resumed Sir Augustus, " for 
 I saw Clydesdale write you a note last evening, 
 and heard him give orders that it should be sent 
 to your palazzo early in the morning." 
 
 " And was he then in perfect health?" asked 
 Lady Walsingham. 
 
 " Most certainly," replied Fauconberg, " but 
 rather more serious than usual, which I attri- 
 buted to the recollection that this day was the 
 second anniversary of the death of a person once 
 dear to him ; every recurrence to whom his
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 189 
 
 friends avoid, knowing the subject to be fraught 
 with pain to him." 
 
 In an instant, my tears were dried, the burning 
 blushes of shame and anger, that suffused my 
 cheek, seemed to effect this operation ; and the 
 fiend jealousy awoke in my breast, to renew the 
 infliction of a thousand pangs. So, while I, reck- 
 less of observation, exposed my love and anguish, 
 at the bare thought of his danger, to the gaze of 
 others, he having voluntarily excluded himself 
 from my presence, was weeping over the memory 
 of another love; and leaving me to endure all the 
 alarm and wretchedness which his acknowledge- 
 ment of indisposition could not fail to excite. 
 The subterfuge too, of affecting illness it was 
 unworthy it was base ! The whole current of 
 my feelings became changed. Such conduct was 
 not to be borne. No, I would, whatever the 
 effort might cost me, break with him for ever ; 
 and his friend, Sir Augustus Fauconberg, who 
 had been a spectator of my weakness, when I 
 believed him ill, should now be a witness of
 
 190 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the firmness with which I could eternally resign 
 him. 
 
 Such were the thoughts that flitted through 
 my troubled brain, making my temples throb, 
 and my heart's pulses beat in feverish excite- 
 ment. I silenced every whisper of love, every 
 dictate of reason. Pride, ungovernable pride, 
 and indomitable jealousy, now took entire pos- 
 session of my heart, banishing every gentle and 
 feminine emotion. If, a short time before, while 
 suffering agonies at the bare notion of my lover's 
 illness, any one had told me that the assurance 
 of his being well could fail to convey to me the 
 most ecstatic joy, I should have pronounced the 
 fulfilment of the prediction impossible. There 
 is nothing to which I would not have cheerfully 
 submitted to have had this blissful assurance. 
 But now it only gave me torture, and excited 
 rage. Such are the revolutions to which evil 
 passions can lead those who are so unfortunate 
 as to submit to their empire ! 
 
 I sought my chamber, and giving way to my
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 191 
 
 wild and wrathful impulse, seized a pen, and 
 wrote to Lord Clydesdale to declare that I con- 
 sidered our engagement at an end. I stated 
 that my determination was irrevocable, and that 
 any attempt to change it would be as unavailing 
 as offensive to me. 
 
 I despatched this ill-judged and intemperate 
 letter, proud of this supposed conquest over 
 self, this triumph of my evil nature over my 
 better. I would not wait for a calmer moment, 
 lest my heart might relent, and be disposed to 
 pardon him, who was still dear to it. No, while 
 mourning a dead mistress, he should have cause 
 to grieve for a living one ; and I was obdurate 
 enough to take a malicious pleasure in thus over- 
 whelming him with a new affliction, while he 
 was meditating on a former one. 
 
 I never reflected that the excuse of a slight 
 indisposition, urged by Lord Clydesdale to ac- 
 count for not coming on that day, was only 
 made to avoid offending me, by candidly stating 
 the true cause of his absence. It was my in-
 
 192 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 justice, my petulance, that compelled him to 
 have recourse to this deception, a deception 
 adopted only to spare my weakness. I expected 
 to receive a deprecating answer to my angry 
 renunciation of him, notwithstanding my pro- 
 hibition; nay more, I was not without hopes 
 that he would come to plead his cause in person. 
 But, as hour after hour elapsed, without bringing 
 any tidings of him, I began to tremble at heart, 
 though I affected a careless exterior, at the 
 probable consequences of my own folly. 
 
 Lady Walsingham, with that intuitive per- 
 ception which belongs exclusively to women, 
 had penetrated the state of my feelings. She 
 deplored, but pitied their wilfulness ; and gently 
 endeavoured to sooth them. She dwelt on the 
 compassion and forbearance due to the regrets 
 of those who mourn an object beloved, even 
 though a brighter prospect opens on the bereaved 
 heart, by a new attachment. 
 
 " But, if the former object be still mourned,"
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 193 
 
 answered I, "why should the mourner seek 
 another love ? Such a course is being unfaithful 
 to the dead, and unjust to the living." 
 
 " You are yet too young, dear Arabella," 
 replied Lady Walsingham, " to have fathomed 
 the secret recesses of the human heart, in which 
 the desire of happiness is indigenous and inde- 
 structible. If robbed of the object of its affection, 
 the grief that follows, though deep and some- 
 times durable, is not eternal. The regret, which 
 during the first bitterness attending such a cala- 
 mity, was violent and engrossing, becomes by 
 the operation of time every day mitigated. The 
 lover is conscious of this gradual change; and at 
 first shrinks from what he believes to be an 
 infirmity of his nature. He summons memory, 
 with all her potent spells, to awaken the grief 
 that slumbers ; he dwells upon all the charms of 
 the lost one, recalls all her love ; and imagina- 
 tion, excited by recollection, supplies the place, 
 and for a brief space, enacts the part of grief. 
 Gratitude aids this self-deception, which is pecu- 
 
 K
 
 194 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 liar to fine natures; the lost are thought of, 
 talked of, and referred to, with tenderness, long 
 after the survivor is consoled for their loss : nay, 
 he frequently perseveres in premeditatedly offer- 
 ing this homage to the manes of the departed, 
 as an expiation for an involuntary oblivion of 
 them. You know not, and may you never know, 
 deai" Arabella, the shame, the tender regret, and 
 self-reproach, with which a sensitive mind first 
 becomes sensible that it can be consoled for a 
 loss, the regret for which, when first experienced, 
 was imagined to be eternal. But when the place 
 once occupied by the departed, is usurped by a 
 new, perhaps a dearer object, for grief increases 
 the susceptibility, and tends to make the second 
 attachment more fond than the former, in pro- 
 portion to the sensitiveness of the feelings of the 
 lover, will be the recollections given to the dead ; 
 recollections that do not rob the living of the 
 slightest portion of his tenderness, but which 
 rather originate in his deep consciousness of the 
 force of his present attachment. He who devoted
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 195 
 
 lot a pensive thought to the memory of a buried 
 love, will never be capable of fidelity to a living one. 
 Such regrets are not the offspring of sorrow : 
 they are the funereal flowers with which, while 
 animated by hope of happiness, the survivor decks 
 the grave of one for whose loss he is consoled." 
 
 My feelings became softened towards Lord 
 Clydesdale, as I listened to the mild reasoning 
 of Lady Walsingham; and when she informed 
 me that his friend Sir Augustus Fauconberg had 
 acknowledged to her, that he never imagined 
 Lord Clydesdale could have loved again, so 
 tenderly devoted had he been to his first attach- 
 ment, and so fondly was it repaid by its object, 
 I severely blamed my own wil fulness in having 
 inflicted pain, where I should have offered con- 
 solation. Oh, how I longed for him to come, or 
 write, to deprecate the anger which was now 
 subdued, that I might convince him of my 
 repentance and affection ! Every noise in the 
 ante-room made my heart throb, every step that 
 approached I hoped might be his; and in this 
 
 K2
 
 196 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 belief I have started from my chair to meet 
 him with an extended hand, and words of love 
 hovering on my lips. 
 
 Lady Walsingham, anxious to make an im- 
 pression on me, related all that Sir Augustus 
 Fauconberg had told her, of the personal charms, 
 cultivated mind, and angelic disposition of Lady 
 Luanda Harcourt. She dwelt on the profound 
 tenderness of this young and lovely creature for 
 her betrothed husband; and on the heavenly 
 resignation with which she prepared herself for 
 another world, though blessed with all that could 
 render existence desirable. She related the long 
 and lingering illness, and the death-bed farewell 
 of this fair being; and the overwhelming affliction 
 of her affianced husband, who fled from Eng- 
 land, to seek in a strange land the power of 
 supporting a blow, that seemed to have for ever 
 destroyed his earthly hopes. 
 
 When she described the satisfaction experi- 
 enced by Fauconberg, at discovering from Lord 
 Clydesdale that his heart had yielded to a second
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 197 
 
 attachment, in which he looked forward to the en- 
 joyment of the happiness he had believed to have 
 been lost to him for ever, I could not restrain my 
 tears ; and. as they flowed plenteously down my 
 cheeks, I felt that I had never loved Lord 
 Clydesdale so fondly as at that moment. Had 
 he then entered, yes, proud as I was, I would 
 have confessed my fault, and atoned for it, by 
 every future effort to control the waywardness 
 of my nature, and the petulance of my temper. 
 Alas ! such happiness was not in store for me. 
 I had madly dashed the cup from my lip: and 
 it was decreed that it should never more be 
 offered ! 
 
 But let me not anticipate my story. The long 
 evening wore away, without bringing me any 
 tidings of my lover. How did I count the weary 
 hours, on the dial of that pendule, on which 
 I had so often marked their rapid flight, when, 
 after a long visit, he rose to depart, and I dis- 
 believed that the hour of separation was yet 
 come ! How often during that interminable
 
 198 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 evening had I resolved to write to him, and seek 
 a reconciliation ; but pride, and it may be, female 
 reserve, prohibited this concession. Though 
 supported by the hope that the morrow would 
 see him at my feet, still my heart was troubled 
 that the sun should have gone down on our 
 anger ; and that our estrangement should have 
 endured a single night. 
 
 Even now, though half a century has elapsed 
 since that night, I have not forgotten the tender 
 remorse, the good resolves, and the overflowing 
 affection with which I dwelt on his noble quali- 
 ties, and my own unworthiness. For the first 
 time, my tears flowed for her, who had preceded 
 me in his heart, as I pictured her to myself in 
 all her youth and beauty, in all her gentleness 
 and love, descending to the untimely grave, 
 whence he could not save her. All that I now 
 experienced of affection for him, she had felt ; 
 and in giving my tears to her memory, I seemed 
 to be shedding them for myself, such an identity 
 did my now altered feelings appear to create
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 199 
 
 between our sentiments. Yes, I would for the 
 future partake his recollections of her; her name 
 should be a sacred bond of union and sympathy 
 between us. I would think of her as a dear, a 
 lost sister, and emulate him in guarding her 
 sweet memory from oblivion. With these gentle 
 thoughts I sank into slumber, and awoke to 
 despair. 
 
 Never did the sun shine with greater splen- 
 dour, or on a more lovely scene, than presented 
 itself to my eyes, on awaking the morning after 
 my fatal letter to Lord Clydesdale. I hailed 
 the bright sky, as an omen of reconciliation of 
 happiness; and my spirits rose from the weight 
 that had oppressed them, as I joyfully anti- 
 cipated an interview with him so dear to me. 
 I had only completed my toilette, when a let- 
 ter, bearing a superscription in his well-known 
 writing, was presented to me, and I pressed it 
 to my lips before breaking the seal, so impressed 
 was I with the thought that it was to announce 
 his visit. Alas ! I had only perused a few
 
 200 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 lines, when the fatal truth stood revealed, and 
 / was a desolate, a deserted woman. Even while 
 I was cheating myself with joyful anticipations 
 of our meeting, nay, chiding the tardy moments 
 that intervened, he, on whom my soul doted 
 with all the fervour of youthful love, was hurry- 
 ing from me with cruel haste ! and now was many, 
 many miles distant. He no longer breathed the 
 same air with me, and yet I was unconscious of 
 this change ! 
 
 O prescience ! vainly attributed to the sym- 
 pathy of affection, never more could I put faith 
 in thee ! when no secret foreboding whispered 
 me that he was flying from me ; when no per- 
 ceptible alteration in my being warned me that 
 the most fatal hour of my life was at hand ! 
 
 And he could leave me, without one word of 
 adieu, one last lingering look of love ! Too, 
 too well had he obeyed my imperious, my fatal 
 mandate to see me no more. Why, oh ! why, 
 had he not sought me? one word, one look, 
 would have banished every harsh feeling between
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 201 
 
 us. But no, he accepted (nay, perhaps, had 
 eagerly desired) the first opportunity of breaking 
 the bond that united us. My pevishness and 
 unreasonable jealousy had wearied and dis- 
 gusted him; he foresaw that our union could 
 not tend to our mutual happiness, and he burst 
 the chain that my folly and wilfulness had ren- 
 dered so galling. Yes, the fault was wholly 
 mine : and deeply, incessantly did I expiate it, 
 by a despair that tolled the eternal knell of my 
 departed hopes. 
 
 In bitterness of spirit, I turned from the bright 
 sun, whose splendour but an hour before I had 
 blessed as an omen of happiness. Now its bril- 
 liancy was as a mockery to the darkness that 
 veiled my soul : I shut out its light, and having 
 secured myself from interruption, by locking the 
 door of my chamber, I gave way to the poignant 
 sorrow that filled my breast almost to suffocation, 
 in a paroxysm of tears. I wept in uncontrollable 
 anguish until the violence of my emotions had 
 
 K3
 
 202 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 nearly subdued my physical force. At some 
 moments, forgetful of all but my love, and de- 
 spair, I determined on pursuing him ; on seeking 
 an explanation, and on beseeching him to let my 
 recent conduct pass into oblivion. Yes, I would 
 tell him all that I had suffered within the last 
 twenty-four hours ; and all the atonement I had 
 determined on making, for the uneasiness I had 
 caused him. Surely when he was acquainted 
 that my unreasonable jealousy was but the effect 
 of love, he would overlook, he would pardon the 
 folly and injustice into which it had hurried me. 
 Such were the thoughts that passed rapidly 
 through my mind, and as they presented them- 
 selves, I rose from the couch, on which in my 
 despair I had thrown myself, with the resolution 
 of communicating my intention of seeking him 
 to Lady Walsingham. But then came the sug- 
 gestions of reason, of delicacy, of pride, to my 
 aid; and, shall I own it, those of the last men- 
 tioned passion were the most potent in guiding my
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 203 
 
 decision. How could I announce to the modest, 
 the dignified Lady Walsingham, that, casting 
 aside the maidenly reserve which befitted me, I 
 was about to pursue a lover who fled from me ! 
 No, this was impossible; I would not, I could 
 not, bring myself to such a degradation. But 
 no sooner had I decided on the utter impractica- 
 bility of this last delusive whisper of hope, than 
 despair took possession of my tortured heart, 
 and I gave way to all its wild, its unholy dictates, 
 until reason reeled on her throne, and my brain 
 throbbed in agony. 
 
 I perused again and again my lover's epistle, 
 its gentleness touched me more than the strongest 
 remonstrances could have done, and rendered 
 the writer dearer to me than ever. Here is the 
 letter, which I have carefully preserved, though 
 some of the words it contains were half effaced 
 by my tears. It was long ere I could read it 
 unmoved, but time blunts the arrows of afflic- 
 tion, or else it renders us more callous to their 
 assaults.
 
 204 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " This letter will be given to you, dear, too 
 dear Arabella, when I shall be many miles dis- 
 tant. You have commanded me to see you no 
 more, and I obey; my reluctance being only 
 vanquished by the belief, that such a step, pain- 
 ful as it is to me, will best secure your future 
 peace. 
 
 " When 1 saw you first, my heart was, as I 
 imagined, dead to love. Your beauty, your 
 fascination, soon convinced me of my error; but 
 even when I discovered my weakness, I endea- 
 voured to steel myself against the entertainment 
 of. a second affection, lest you, in all the pride of 
 youth and beauty's first triumphs, should reject the 
 offering of a heart, that had already experienced 
 for another a deep, a true passion. But your 
 gentleness, your apparent pity, rivetted the chains 
 your charms had forged ; and I placed my hap- 
 piness in your hands, and dared again to indulge 
 hope for the future. The consciousness of the 
 strength of my new attachment, induced me to 
 reveal to its object the sorrows created by a
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 205 
 
 former one. I related them as the mariner when 
 safe in a haven of rest narrates to the person 
 most dear to him, the perils he has endured when 
 absent from her, and for which he looks to her 
 for consolation. I had no thought, no feeling 
 concealed from you ; and the extent of my con- 
 fidence must have assured you of that of my 
 affection. When mistress of every sentiment of 
 my heart, judge of my bitter disappointment at 
 discovering that your manner towards me be- 
 came totally changed. Coldness and constraint 
 usurped the place of confidence and sympathy ; 
 and I found myself compelled either to conceal 
 the fond recollection of the dead, or to offend 
 the living object of my tenderness. Such was 
 my attachment to you, that I adopted the first 
 alternative. I scrupulously avoided speaking 
 of the past; and this anxiety not to displease 
 you, led to a restraint that impaired, if it did not 
 destroy, all the charm of our intercourse. Day 
 after day I marked your increasing coldness ; yet 
 still I had not courage to depart; and by my
 
 206 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 absence rid you of communion that seemed to 
 importune, rather than gratify you. You have 
 broken the bond that united us ; you, cruel 
 Arabella, have pronounced the sentence of sepa- 
 ration, and I leave you with every wound bleed- 
 ing anew, opened by the hand that I once 
 thought had closed them for ever. Pardon this 
 intrusion, which you forbade; and may every 
 happiness be yours. 
 
 " CLYDESDALE." 
 
 Lady Walsingham had frequently tried to gain 
 admittance to my chamber during the long hours 
 that had elapsed since I had shut myself in it ; 
 but I resisted all her entreaties to open the door, 
 until a late hour in the evening, when, exhausted 
 by the effects of mental and bodily suffering, 
 I allowed her to enter. 
 
 All the soothing attentions that an affec- 
 tionate heart and feeling mind could offer, were 
 showered on me by this amiable and most excel- 
 lent woman ; who bore the wayward petulance
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 207 
 
 attendant on this my cruel and self-incurred 
 disappointment, with a gentleness and patience 
 that in some degree restored me to a sense of 
 shame for my want of self-control. I reposed 
 in her sympathizing breast all the circumstances 
 which had led to the misunderstanding with Lord 
 Clydesdale, anticipating that she would encou- 
 rage the hope that still animated me, by whisper- 
 ing that he might return, and our union yet 
 take place. But she held out no such delusive 
 prospect ; she had seen enough of him to be con- 
 vinced, that the step he had taken was the result 
 of a belief, that, however temporarily painful it 
 might be, the separation was necessary to our 
 mutual peace ; and that therefore his determina- 
 tion would be immutable. 
 
 This conduct on the part of Lady Walsingham 
 was as wise as it was merciful. By destroying 
 hope, she disarmed love of its most potent ally : 
 and after a few weeks, I learned to reflect on my 
 disappointment with less bitterness ; though, for 
 years, it cast a cloud of melancholy over the
 
 208 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 sunshine of my young life, and is even still 
 remembered with sadness. I tried to think that 
 Lord Clydesdale and I were unsuited to each 
 other, that our union could not have been pro- 
 ductive of happiness ; but, alas ! conscience 
 whispered that lie was faultless, and that all the 
 error was on my side. 
 
 Pride now reminded me, that, though, with a 
 bruised heart and wounded spirit, I was still called 
 on to enact a part in the drama of life. I was a 
 fair and wealthy heiress, on whom all eyes were 
 fixed ; and must not permit even the most insig- 
 nificant of the herd who sought my society, to 
 imagine, that any one who had been known to 
 have worn my chains, could throw them off. 
 Lord Clydesdale was universally considered to 
 be my devoted admirer, but had never been 
 publicly acknowledged as my accepted suitor; 
 consequently, his departure was not likely to 
 lead to any surmises derogatory to my dignity, 
 unless I betrayed by any alteration in my general 
 demeanour, that it affected me. What sacrifices
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 209 
 
 does pride exact from her victims ! sacrifices 
 that less unworthy motives had never obtained. 
 Reason nay, religion itself, have rarely had 
 such influence in quelling grief, or at least in 
 checking its external symptoms, as has this un- 
 bridled, this all-subduing passion. At its dictates 
 the tear is dried, the sob is stifled, the sigh is sent 
 back ere half breathed to the oppressed heart; 
 the quiver of agony is banished from the lip, nay 
 it is forced into the indication of a cheerful smile, 
 and gaiety is assumed, while the heart is pining 
 in anguish rendered more intolerable by the 
 mockery to which its wretched owner is com- 
 pelled. 
 
 In obedience to this all-commanding power, 
 I schooled myself to appear more gay and care- 
 less than I had ever been at any previous period. 
 Yet often did I start at the sound of my own 
 laugh, to which my tortured breast seemed to 
 render funereal echoes, as even while the smile 
 played on my lip, my thoughts were far distant, 
 wandering with him whose image was never
 
 210 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 banished from my heart. Frequently have 1 left 
 a brilliant reunion, where I seemed to constitute 
 the magnet of attraction, and retired to my 
 solitary chamber to weep over the recollection 
 of the past. No, there is no slavery so insup- 
 portable as that which we impose on ourselves 
 to cheat those who perhaps care little for us, 
 and for whom we care not. 
 
 Many of the persons whose attentions Lord 
 Clydesdale's presence and assiduities had checked, 
 now returned to importune me with them. 
 Among those whose pretensions to please least 
 annoyed, though they totally failed to interest 
 me, were II Principe di Monte Rosso, and his 
 fides Achates, II Duca di Carditella. Both 
 these nobles professed a chivalrous adoration for 
 me, worthy the days of romance, and displayed 
 it a la Napolitain. They sang duets beneath 
 my balcony at night ; their boat followed mine 
 in the evenings over the moonlit sea; and the 
 lava of Vesuvius, their native volcano, whose 
 flames their own for me professed to emulate,
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 211 
 
 was offered to me in every shape into which the 
 ingenuity of art could torture it, to remind me 
 of their tendresse. Such was their attention to 
 my comfort, though that was a word as unknown 
 to their southern ears as the reality was to their 
 habits, that on one occasion, when Lady Wal- 
 singham observed that the butter provided by 
 our major domo was of a very objectionable 
 quality, II Principe declared that the superin- 
 tendent of his villa sold the best butter in all the 
 neighbourhood of Naples; and recommended it 
 so zealously that we knew not precisely which 
 he wished most to serve, his farmer or myself. 
 II Duca di Carditella frequently assured us 
 that the wine sold by the porter at his Palazzo, 
 and made from the vines on his estate, was 
 superior to all other, and even urged our servant 
 to give it a trial. I figured to myself an English 
 Duke puffing his own wine or butter to engage 
 purchasers, and, above all, to the lady of his 
 love ; and could not resist smiling at the contrast 
 between such conduct and the sonorous and
 
 212 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ancient titles of the perpetrators. Whenever II 
 Principe sighed, and this was not seldom, II 
 Duca echoed : each compMment that one offered 
 at the shrine of my beauty, and each profession 
 of the profound sentiment which that beauty 
 had excited, was repeated nearly verbatim by 
 the other, without the least apparent embarrass- 
 ment to either. 
 
 This modern Pylades and Orestes always 
 came and departed together; and their mutual 
 harmony seemed in no way impeded by the 
 passion they professed to entertain for the same 
 object. There was something so singular in this 
 brotherhood in love, that though it failed to in- 
 terest, it succeeded in sometimes amusing me. 
 
 One day when II Principe was calling all the 
 saints in the calendar, even St. Januarius him- 
 self, to witness how perfectly he adored me, 
 and II Duca was strenuously emulating him in 
 his vows, I inquired, with as serious a face as I 
 could assume, how, in case I should, by any 
 possibility, (though I admitted not the probability
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 213 
 
 of such an event), prefer one to the other, the 
 rejected suitor could support the disappoint- 
 ment; or the accepted one be so selfish as to 
 enjoy a boon of which his brother in love had 
 .been deprived. 
 
 " Let not such a reflection oppose a single 
 obstacle to your decision, charming lady," ex- 
 claimed both, nearly in the same words, "for we 
 have sworn that he who becomes your husband, 
 shall select the other for your cavalier servente." 
 
 Strange to say, neither of my admirers seemed 
 to be aware of having said aught that could 
 either shock or surprise me; and would have 
 considered any expression of such feelings on 
 my part as a proof of northern barbarism and 
 prejudice. 
 
 After visiting all the principal places of resort 
 in Italy, and passing above four years in that beau- 
 tiful land, were turned to our own country ; with 
 my notions of happiness considerably changed, 
 and my hopes of attaining it, oh ! how infinitely 
 diminished; and yet my heart beat quicker too,
 
 214 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 when I found myself again on my native shore. 
 I concluded that he who was so often and fondly 
 recalled to memory must be there, that we 
 should in all human probability meet: and what 
 might not a meeting accomplish between hearts 
 that still loved ? for, judging his by my own, I 
 concluded that I still occupied a place in it. 
 But, even should we not meet, was it not a 
 blessing to inhabit the same country, breathe 
 the same air, and know that a few hours might 
 bring us together ? Those only who have truly 
 loved will comprehend this negative sort of 
 happiness ; but they will know that even this is 
 eagerly grasped at, and will appreciate its effects 
 on me. 
 
 I was now of age ; and that important epoch 
 was to be marked by fetes and rejoicings at 
 Walsingham Castle, where I was to receive my 
 neighbours, and feast my tenantry and depend- 
 ents. Previous to going there, Lady Walsing- 
 ham and I accepted an invitation to the rectory 
 of her brother, who, with his pretty wife and three
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 215 
 
 rosy cheeked children, we found in the enjoyment 
 of as much happiness as, perhaps, was ever per- 
 mitted to mortals. I might also add as much 
 health, if that advantage was not an essential 
 requisite in the other blessing, there being no 
 happiness without it. The fact was, the felicity 
 accorded to this excellent couple had been so 
 wholly free from anxiety, or any of the trials to 
 which persons of susceptible natures are liable, 
 that the result had been an increase of embon- 
 point to both ; more indicative of rude health 
 than advantageous to beauty. 
 
 On looking at Frederick Melville, the once 
 pale, interesting, but now lusty and fresh coloured 
 father of a family, I could scarcely forbear a 
 smile at the recollection of my former girlish 
 predilection for him. How inferior, how im- 
 measurably inferior was he to Lord Clydesdale, 
 in appearance as well as in manner. This 
 alteration in his looks, but still more, the total 
 change in my own taste and opinions, led me to 
 reflect on the folly of permitting girls to marry
 
 216 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the first object that attracts their juvenile fancy; 
 without allowing a reasonable time to elapse, in 
 order that the stability of the sentiment may be 
 ascertained. How few young women would at 
 twenty select the admirer as a partner for life 
 who might have captivated them at seventeen ? 
 and how many of the desperate passions, sup- 
 posed to be eternal, would fade away like a 
 dream before the influence of reason, if subjected 
 to the ordeal of a couple, or of even one year's 
 absence. 
 
 The happiness of Frederick Melville and his 
 wife was much too unimaginative and common- 
 place for my refined notions. The ideal coloured 
 every vision I formed of domestic life, and entered 
 into every scheme of enjoyment. I shrank from 
 the realities of actual existence to revel in day 
 dreams ; and in the superabundance of my folly 
 recoiled from the possibility of ever finding my- 
 self reduced to the level of Mrs. Melville, a 
 homely, busy, but most happy wife. Their daily 
 occupations and simple pleasures seemed insipid
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 217 
 
 and tiresome to me. Their intellectual recrea- 
 tions were limited to the utile, rather than to the 
 exalted and elegant in literature; and their rou- 
 tine of usefulness, and absence of high thought, 
 the epithet with which I dignified the sentiments 
 engendered by study of poetry and belle lettres, 
 allowed the countenances of both to wear an 
 habitual expression of cheerfulness rather than 
 of sensibility. 
 
 In the vanity of self- imagined superiority, I 
 fancied my mind to be of a too elevated character 
 to be content with a blameless lot like theirs; 
 erroneously believing the morbid fastidiousness 
 
 r O 
 
 of my ill-directed feelings, to be an indubitable 
 proof of this supposed superiority, when it clearly 
 indicated precisely the reverse : as the factitious 
 bodily force sometimes exhibited in delirium, 
 is, by the ignorant, mistaken for constitutional 
 strength. 
 
 When, after a morning passed in the perusal 
 of my favourite authors, among whom the most 
 romantic school of poets were the preferred, I 
 
 L
 
 218 THE CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 have found Mrs. Melville, with health glowing 
 on her cheek, and the vivacity it inspires beaming 
 in her eyes, returned from visiting the poor, or 
 superintending her domestic arrangements, I 
 have pitied her destiny, and almost despised the 
 mind that could be happy under it. The vigor- 
 ous discharge of actual duties, I was as indisposed 
 to comprehend, as unwilling to perform ; con- 
 sequently, I undervalued those who did both. 
 Great sacrifices, I fancied, I should heroically 
 make ; but the minor ones, which we are con- 
 stantly called on to offer, and for which no praise 
 is given, appeared to me to be beneath my 
 attention. It is thus that too many people 
 console themselves for leaving unfulfilled the 
 numerous duties, the discharge of which cheer 
 and sweeten life, while the great sacrifice they 
 suppose themselves ready to make, is perhaps 
 never required. To preside over a husband's 
 household, attend to his personal comforts, nurse 
 his children, visit the poor, pray with, and work 
 for them, and receive him always with joyful
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 219 
 
 smiles, was, in my opinion, to become that most 
 uninteresting of all creatures, a homely house- 
 wife. Consequently, I deemed that it argued 
 ill for the taste and refinement of Frederick 
 Melville, that his attachment to his wife seemed 
 to increase in proportion to her indefatigable 
 discharge of this dull and vulgar routine of 
 duties. 
 
 I had figured the Parsonage to myself as an 
 old-fashioned house, modernised into a simple, 
 but elegant villa, with myrtles, woodbine, and 
 roses, peeping into each window. The furniture 
 light, tasteful, and luxurious : no splendour, but 
 all that persons of refined habits could require. 
 The picture I formed, comprised a small but 
 most comfortable drawing-room, opening into a 
 conservatory redolent of sweets a library con- 
 taining the choicest authors a boudoir, with all 
 its fairy elegancies, and an jEolian harp placed 
 in its window, to catch the sighing of the night 
 breeze on its strings. I fancied all the decora- 
 tions peculiar to female taste, and all the graceful 
 
 L2
 
 220 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 implements indicative of feminine occupation. 
 Each apartment was to be filled with rare flowers, 
 and the presiding deity, simply, but most be- 
 comingly attired, was to languidly, but sweetly, 
 do the honours of this imaginary little Paradise ; 
 repaying her husband for a thousand nameless 
 attentions not by the bustling activity of a 
 housekeeper, but by the gentle smiles and soft 
 words peculiar to heroines in novels. 
 
 This was the picture my fancy had drawn of 
 Addlethorp Rectory ; though the name had 
 always jarred on my ear, and suggested the 
 necessity of bestowing on the spot a more eu- 
 phonious denomination. The married lovers 
 must, according to my notions, in the constant 
 communion of thought and study, have grown 
 somewhat paler, and more pensive that palor 
 arising from deep thought, and that pensiveness 
 which excess of happiness produces on high-toned 
 minds, by making them tremble for its duration. 
 
 How, then, were my expectations disappointed 
 by the reality of Addlethorp Rectory and its
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 221 
 
 owners ! Instead of a modernized villa, a square, 
 red brick, mansion, met my view. No myrtles, 
 woodbine, or roses, peeped into the windows ; 
 and the green boxes of mignonette which sup- 
 .plied their places, odorous though they were, 
 seemed to me, to be but a sorry substitute. The 
 garden into which the windows of the principal 
 rooms opened, might have satisfied even my 
 fastidious taste ; but those rooms sadly shocked 
 my notions of elegance and comfort shining oak 
 pannels, and book cases to correspond, stowed 
 with volumes of no rich hues of binding, were 
 its most conspicuous features. No mirrors were 
 to be seen, and no silk draperies met the eye; 
 but white dimity curtains, with chairs, and a sofa 
 that seemed to have been made before the pos- 
 sibility of reclining in it had been taken into 
 consideration; for its form and texture defied 
 such a position. A work table, on which was 
 placed a basket well filled with non-descript 
 pieces of linen, ycleped plain work, and all the 
 homely apparatus of a village sempstress, lay 
 by it.
 
 222 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 To be sure, the room was scrupulously clean 
 and cheerful, and wanted nothing for positive 
 use, though it contained no article for mere orna- 
 ment. Still, its rustic plainness struck me as 
 being disagreeable; and the increased plump- 
 ness and gaiety of its owners, shocked my pre- 
 conceived notions. The whole house and its 
 arrangement were equally plain and simple. 
 Every thing was perfectly clean, but all of the 
 cheapest texture and most simple form. I could 
 have fancied myself in the dwelling of some 
 primitive quaker, who disdained ornament or 
 elegance : yet never had I beheld in the most 
 splendid saloons, rich in all that unbounded 
 wealth and refined taste could lavish on them, 
 such happy faces as in the homely parlour of 
 Addlethorp rectory. 
 
 The conversation of the rector and his wife 
 was little calculated to excite any interest in a 
 mind teeming with all the morbid sentiments that 
 filled mine. To hear that old Farmer Brook- 
 by's health was much amended ; Dame Gateby's 
 leg not broken, as was supposed; and poor
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 223 
 
 Martha Dobson's case not so hopeless as was 
 feared, only excited in me ennui and dissatis- 
 faction, while this intelligence created in Mr. 
 and Mrs. Melville the most lively interest. The 
 rapid progress which her pupils at the charity 
 school were making; the good qualities of the 
 curate and his wife ; and thankfulness to Provi- 
 dence for having placed her lot among such good 
 people, were the themes most frequently chosen 
 by Mrs. Melville, while she plied her needle ; 
 little aware how callous a listener she had for 
 her " short and simple annals of the poor;" but 
 to which Lady Walsingham lent no cold ear. 
 
 " I see no harp here," said I, one day, to Mrs. 
 Melville, during our short sejour in the parson- 
 age " I remember you excelled on that instru- 
 ment." 
 
 " It is an expensive acquisition," replied she; 
 " and as I have a pianoforte, I thought it more 
 prudent not to purchase a harp. Besides, the 
 truth is, I should not have had time to practice ; 
 for what with my household avocations, my
 
 224 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 children, my school, my garden, and, though 
 last not least, my poor, I find little spare time 
 for music." 
 
 " But does not all this daily recurrence of 
 occupation weary and depress you ? I should 
 soon sink under it, I am sure." 
 
 " O ! dear, no ; on the contrary, it keeps me 
 more cheerful; for the consciousness of en- 
 deavouring to fulfil one's duties, exhilirates the 
 spirits." 
 
 " But do you not feel very solitary and dull, 
 when Mr. Melville is compelled to be absent?" 
 
 " It is true, I miss his presence very much 
 at the hours at which we are accustomed to 
 meet ; but I have so many things to attend to, 
 that I have not leisure to be dull. Besides, I 
 look forward with such delight to his return, 
 and have so many little preparations to make 
 to welcome him, that this occupation alone 
 would sustain my cheerfulness," 
 
 " May I, without being indiscreet, inquire in 
 what consist these preparations?"
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 225 
 
 " In a thousand trifling things, which, though 
 trifling, nevertheless, have a lively interest for 
 those who are fondly attached to each other." 
 
 Come, come, thought I to myself, all the 
 romance of love is not yet over. Here, amid all 
 the duties, I shall hear of some little schemes of 
 pleasure, some delicate attentions, such as placing 
 fresh flowers in his room ; or surprising him with 
 some unexpected little gift of affection. Yes, yes, 
 housewife as she is, she is still a woman at heart, 
 and has not forgotten all the sentiment of love. 
 
 " But you have not yet told me your prepa- 
 rations," resumed I. 
 
 " Well, then, to commence. Imprimis: I 
 make some new article of dress for him : shirts, 
 cravats, bands, gown, or, in short, any thing he 
 may require; and which I know he will wear 
 with double pleasure as being made by me. I 
 teach the baby some new word, and the eldest a 
 hymn that he will like to hear. I copy out, in a 
 large hand, some of his sermons ; prepare dif- 
 ferent little articles of confectionary to which he 
 
 L3
 
 226 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 is partial, and endeavour, as well as I can, to 
 supply his place to his parishioners thus occu- 
 pied, time passes imperceptibly." 
 
 " But do your thoughts never revert to a more 
 gay life, to a more brilliant position ?" 
 
 " Never, I assure you ; who would not prefer 
 happiness to gaiety, and comfort to splendour ? 
 I possess both ; and most thankful am I for such 
 inestimable blessings." 
 
 " It has occurred to me more than once since 
 I have been here, dear Mrs. Melville, that your 
 dwelling might be rendered more elegant more 
 worthy of its inmates." 
 
 " I am sorry you do not like Addlethorp Rec- 
 tory, we are very partial to it; and no wonder, 
 we have been so happy here" and she looked 
 around, as if she loved the very walls, and the 
 clumsy, tasteless furniture. 
 
 " You mistake me, dear Mrs. Melville ; I do 
 not dislike your residence ; I only wish it pos- 
 sessed more elegance more of those luxurious 
 comforts that one sees in the generality of houses.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 227 
 
 For instance, I would have the red brick front 
 that makes one hot to look at it, concealed by 
 parasitical plants. This apartment should be 
 enlarged by two projecting bay windows, opening 
 into the garden. That settee should give place to 
 a comfortable lounger sofa, well lined with eider- 
 down pillows; two bergeres should fill up the 
 space occupied by yonder straight backed chairs, 
 that forbid ease ; a carpet of such an ample pile, 
 that no footstep could be heard to fall on it, should 
 replace this one, and a mirror or two should 
 reflect back the treasures of the garden. A sober 
 tinted silk should form the curtains and covers of 
 the chairs and sofa, instead of that cold and 
 cheerless looking white dimity ; and a few light 
 and elegant tables and consoles with richly 
 bound books scattered over them, should give 
 the finish." 
 
 " The room would doubtless gain much by 
 your proposed change of decoration, dear Lady 
 Arabella ; but would it then be as suitable for 
 the wife of a minister of the gospel ?"
 
 228 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " Do you then imagine that elegance is incom- 
 patible with religion ?" 
 
 " By no means ; I only think that a clergy- 
 man and his wife should set the example of 
 humility to those with whom example has more 
 effect than precept ; and that lessons on the ad- 
 vantages of that virtue from the pulpit, might 
 fail to make the desired impression, if the resi- 
 dence of the preacher was known to abound in 
 those luxuries against an indulgence in which he 
 warned his hearers. But, independent of this 
 motive, the expense of the alterations you suggest 
 would offer an insuperable objection." 
 
 " I imagined that Mr. Melville's benefice 
 brought in a considerable revenue." 
 
 " So it does ; one amply sufficient to gratify 
 our simple tastes, enable us to ameliorate the 
 condition of our poor parishioners, and lay by a 
 modest provision for our children. But were 
 we to indulge in the expensive luxuries you pro- 
 pose, our means, ample as they are, would be 
 inadequate to these objects ; and the fine things
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 229 
 
 you speak of would only serve to reproach us 
 for the sacrifice of our duties and principles, at 
 the shrine of a vanity which in us would be 
 worldly and culpable. It is very natural for 
 Lady Arabella Walsingham, born and nursed in 
 the bosom of wealth and splendour, to think the 
 elegancies of life to which she has ever been ac- 
 customed essentially necessary to her personal 
 comfort; but for us, their absence is no pri- 
 vation." 
 
 " Ckacun a son gout," thought I, by no means 
 satisfied with the result of my suggestions. 
 
 " But you have not told me," resumed I, "why 
 you do not conceal the red brick front of the 
 house, by parasitical plants ?" 
 
 " Merely because they engender insects that 
 fill the rooms and annoy the children." 
 
 " What," thought I, " submit to behold that 
 fiery looking front, staring one in the face, when 
 it might be concealed, because the plants breed 
 insects that annoy children ; really this is being 
 very considerate." 
 
 I knew not the heart of a mother ; I was un-
 
 230 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 worthy of such a boon ; and in my egotistical 
 vanity, believed myself, with all my over-ween- 
 ing selfishness, superior to the excellent person 
 before me. 
 
 I left Addlethorp Rectory without regret ; and 
 during my journey to Walsingham Castle, lis- 
 tened silently to Lady Walsingham's occasional 
 comments on the happiness of her brother and 
 his family; a happiness so little suited to my taste 
 as to create no envy in my breast. 
 
 Every inn where we stopped to change horses 
 during the last day of our route poured forth its 
 inmates to stare at and welcome the owner of 
 Walsingham Castle. At a few miles distance 
 from it, a cavalcade of the tenantry, headed by 
 my steward, met me ; and, notwithstanding my 
 resistance, unharnessed the horses and drew the 
 carriage to my paternal home, amid the joyful 
 acclamations of a vast concourse of people. 
 
 I had not seen this abode since my infancy, 
 and retained no recollection of it, consequently 
 its feudal splendour now struck me with delight. 
 A flag emblazoned with the Walsingham arms
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 231 
 
 proudly floated from the ramparts ; the bells of 
 three neighbouring churches tolled merrily, and 
 the wives and daughters of my tenantry, attired 
 in their Sunday clothes, stood courtesying to the 
 ground, while they offered bouquets of flowers, 
 enough to have filled at least a dozen carriages. 
 A new sense of my own importance was now 
 added to my other vanities. I looked proudly 
 around me, acknowledging by dignified bows 
 the homage that was offered to me. 
 
 How easy it is for the rich to make themselves 
 beloved ! A few gracious smiles had already 
 won the hearts of those good people, who rent 
 the air with shouts of applause. When I entered 
 the hall, I paused, overcome with delight, at 
 the grandeur of its appearance. Coats of mail, 
 helmets, shields, and arms, crowned with the 
 armorial banners of the family, were ranged 
 along its lofty walls; and an oriel window of 
 ancient stained glass, through which the setting 
 sun threw its bright rays, diffused a variety of the 
 most gorgeous hues over the polished steel of the
 
 232 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 armour, and the marble pavement of the hall. 
 Here were assembled the grey-headed servitors 
 of my father, with good Mistress Mary at their 
 head, all blessing and welcoming me to my home. 
 I fancied myself invested with an accession of 
 height, as with a stately assumption of dignity that 
 would not have shamed La Dame Chatalaine of 
 a melo-drama, I walked through the long train 
 of retainers, dispensing nods and smiles around ; 
 and ascended the flight of marble steps that led 
 to the principal suite of state rooms. 
 
 Here new delight awaited me. Apartments 
 of vast proportions, furnished in a style of unri- 
 valled magnificence, the walls glowing with the 
 most admirable productions of the Italian school, 
 met my view. I seemed to be some heroine of 
 romance, long banished, but at length restored 
 to her hereditary rights; and, as my glad eyes 
 gleamed around, I was ready to exclaim, " And 
 all this is mine really mine !" 
 
 Yet, even at that moment, when inflated by 
 pride and vanity, I gloried in my possessions,
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 233 
 
 memory recurred to him whom I once hoped 
 would have shared with me the possession of this 
 splendid castle; and I would have almost re- 
 signed it to have had my hand placed in his, and 
 to have had a right to call him mine. Such 
 were the thoughts that flashed across my mind, 
 as I slowly paced through the enfilade of apart- 
 ments, until I came to one of less vast pro- 
 portion, and of more modern decoration. There 
 hung the portraits of my father and mother; 
 and, as my eyes fell on his mild and benevolent 
 face, which seemed to welcome me to my ancestral 
 home, a flood of gushing tears relieved the 
 oppression that impeded my breathing. This 
 pensive and dear countenance reminded me for 
 the first time since I entered the castle of Lady 
 Walsingham. I blushed crimson at the recol- 
 lection of this ungracious and egotistical proof of 
 my negligence ; and, turning, I found her pale 
 and melancholy ; her eyes, too, fixed on the por- 
 trait of him who would have welcomed her more 
 kindly than did the daughter who owed so much
 
 234 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 to his widow. I pressed Lady Walsingham to 
 my heart in silence; and she as mutely dried 
 her tears, and returned my embrace. 
 
 " I have not yet bidden you welcome to our 
 home, dear mother," said I, " may it ever prove 
 as happy a one as he would have rendered it ;" 
 and I looked on his portrait. 
 
 " When you have selected a Lord for this 
 castle, dear Arabella," replied she, " I shall seek 
 another home : until then, your home shall be 
 mine." 
 
 A suite of rooms had been, by my instructions, 
 prepared for Lady Walsingham, filled with every 
 object that I thought likely to conduce to her 
 comfort. Nothing that taste or elegance could 
 suggest was left undone by the upholsterer that 
 had taken my orders ; nor was he less attentive 
 to those which related to my own apartments. 
 All the classical decorations that I had ever 
 admired in Italy or praised in France, joined to 
 the exquisite neatness and comfort peculiar to 
 England, were here united ; and, as I examined
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 235 
 
 the details and enjoyed the ensemble, I was not 
 a little elated. 
 
 I stood before a vast mirror, half draped by 
 the pale blue silk hangings with rich silver 
 fringes that lined the walls of my dressing-room ; 
 and, as I contemplated my own image, vanity 
 whispered, that even without the immense wealth 
 and high nobility which I possessed, that form 
 and face might well aspire to captivate. As I 
 gazed on my mirror, I almost questioned the pos- 
 sibility of any man whose heart was not already 
 occupied, resisting my powers of attraction ; until 
 memory reminded me that he whom alone I 
 wished to fix had thrown off my chains the 
 moment they pressed too heavily on him ; and 
 this reflection checked the over-weaning self- 
 complacency in which I was indulging. 
 
 I spent six months at Walsingham Castle; 
 receiving from and giving a succession off&es 
 to the whole neighbourhood. I found myself 
 an object of universal attraction, and, as I make 
 no doubt, of envy ; though the demonstrations of
 
 236 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 it were so skilfully concealed that I was uncon- 
 scious of the existence of the sentiment. The 
 young ladies all copied my dress, the most indis- 
 putable proof of female admiration ; and the 
 elderly ones, more especially those who had un- 
 married sons or nephews, plied me with all the 
 delicate attentions and adroit flatteries with which 
 match-making dames assail wealthy heiresses. 
 Never, however, for a moment did I now doubt 
 that my own personal claims to admiration were 
 not the cause of the homage I received. 
 
 My vanity increased with the food continually 
 administered to its craving appetite; and, in 
 proportion to this increase, was my astonishment 
 that Lord Clydesdale had the self controul to 
 free himself from my chains. Yet the knowledge 
 that he had done so, though it wounded my 
 amour propre and still rankled at my heart, 
 impressed me with a high opinion of his strength 
 of mind, rather than with any suspicion of my 
 own weakness. 
 
 How I longed to meet him again, and once
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 237 
 
 more to subjugate his heart ; for it seemed a re- 
 proach to my powers of captivation, that he 
 could fly from ^me. Every object that pleased, 
 every point of view that charmed me, were 
 thought of with a reference to how he would 
 approve them. I associated his beloved image 
 with every scene around me ; and almost cheated 
 myself into believing that we might yet be 
 united. 
 
 It was this delusive hope that caused me to 
 rejoice when the time came for leaving Walsing- 
 ham Castle; believing that in the metropolis 
 my encounter with Lord Clydesdale was inevit- 
 able. 
 
 With a heart beating with joyful anticipations, 
 I again found myself in London; and those 
 anticipations seemed on the eve of being realised 
 when I read the announcement of Lord Clydes- 
 dale's arrival in town. When I drove through 
 the streets, I fancied every tall distinguished 
 looking man must be him. 1 looked for him in 
 vain at the opera ; and never accepted an invita-
 
 238 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 tion without expecting to meet him. Still, day 
 after day passed away, and I saw him not ! 
 
 " Where could he be ?" was a question I asked 
 myself every night, as fatigued and dispirited I 
 sought my couch; but the question was an 
 enigma beyond my power of solving. 
 
 Well has it been said, that " Hope deferred 
 maketh the heart sick ;" mine was sick. But as 
 my hope of meeting Lord Clydesdale faded away, 
 my desire to encounter him became more un- 
 governable. It had now grown to be the object 
 of my daily thoughts my nightly dreams. A 
 meeting must, as I fancied, inevitably lead to a 
 reconciliation, and a renewal of our engagement. 
 One glance would explain all ; and no false 
 pride on my part should prevent a perfect 
 f.claircissement. Yes, I would avow my faults, 
 and atone for them ; and all would yet be well, 
 could we but meet. 
 
 An invitation to dine at the Duchesse of Mel- 
 lincourt's had been accepted by Lady Walsing- 
 ham and I. As the day approached, I wished to
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 239 
 
 find an excuse for declining it, for my spirits 
 were depressed by the continual disappointment 
 of not seeing him, whom alone I wished to be- 
 hold. Two days previous to the dinner, I met 
 the Duchesse of Mellincourt at Lady Fothe- 
 ringay's; when, alluding to the dinner engage- 
 ment, she mentioned that Lord Clydesdale was 
 to meet us at her house. I found it difficult to 
 repress the emotion this news excited ; I felt 
 inclined to embrace her in the joy that filled my 
 heart; and I went home to indulge once more 
 in dreams of happiness, and to study a toilette 
 that should set off my person to the utmost ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 Never had I bestowed so much attention on 
 this, to most women, momentous subject. Long 
 did I waver between a robe of pale rose or 
 cerulean blue; but at length I decided that 
 simple, but always elegant, white should be the 
 toilette, with delicate pink and silver bows on 
 the robe and in my hair, and pearls for my neck 
 and arms. I thought the time would never
 
 240 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 arrive, so slowly did it seem to creep : I went 
 to dress full two hours before my usual period ; 
 repeatedly changed the arrangement of my hair, 
 and indefatigably consulted my mirror, to be 
 assured that all was right. 
 
 We were among the first guests that arrived 
 at the Duchess's. I almost feared to raise my 
 eyes lest they should too suddenly encounter 
 him whom they languished to behold. Guest 
 after guest arrived, and as the groom of the 
 chambers announced each aristocratic name, I 
 listened with painful eagerness to hear his pro- 
 nounced. 
 
 When at length the Maitre d' Hotel's notice 
 qw le diner est servi summoned us to table, and 
 that I saw the guests seated, I looked anxiously 
 to observe whether there was a vacant place; 
 and experienced a bitter sense of disappoint- 
 ment at finding every seat occupied. My joy- 
 ful anticipation and recherche toilette were then 
 all in vain ; he who occasioned the one, and to 
 please whom, the other was studied and adopted,
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 241 
 
 came not. I could have wept over this cruel 
 disappointment, but pride came to my aid ; and 
 while my heart was tortured I forced a smile to 
 my lips, and compelled myself to answer the 
 common-place questions addressed to me by the 
 persons around me. 
 
 Talk of Spartan stoicism, what is it compared 
 to that which a proud woman is obliged to as- 
 sume when in the midst of society she finds 
 herself " a cynosure for curious eyes," with 
 the painful consciousness, that were one tear 
 of those, that are struggling to gush forth, 
 suffered to be visible, she should become the 
 object, not of general interest and sympathy, 
 but of idle or malevolent curiosity, and occa- 
 sion countless false and injurious rumours. Of 
 how many pangs does this knowledge quell 
 every external symptom, how many tears are 
 suppressed and sighs stifled, until in the privacy 
 of her own chamber, unseen by mortal eye, 
 a free vent can be given to them. And yet 
 
 M
 
 242 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 people call women weak and destitute of self- 
 control ! 
 
 When dinner was nearly over Lady Hallifax, 
 who sat opposite to me, observed to one of the 
 party, that she expected to have met Lord 
 Clydesdale. 
 
 " I saw him yesterday," continued she, " and 
 he mentioned that he was to dine here to-day. 
 I told him that he would meet Lady Walsing- 
 ham and Lady Arabella, who I knew were friends 
 of his, for Lady Walsingham had told me they 
 knew him in Italy. But I must not make either of 
 you ladies blush by repeating the very high eulo- 
 giums he bestowed upon both, and eulogiums 
 from Lord Clydesdale are not indiscriminately 
 given, for he is the most fastidious person pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " I received an excuse from him this morn- 
 ing," replied the Duchess of Mellincourt, "stating 
 that he was suffering under a violent headache." 
 " I fancy he is grown a little hypochondriacal
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 243 
 
 of late," said Lady Ardenfield ; " for he sent 
 similar excuses to Lady Mordaunt's and to Lord 
 William Crofts, and I saw him the day after 
 each dinner in apparently perfect health." 
 
 How I writhed while listening to this state- 
 ment; I had dined at both the parties to which 
 Lady Ardenfield referred ; and it now became 
 obvious to me, that he had absented himself 
 from them, and also from the Duchess of Mel- 
 lincourt's to avoid meeting me. Had I then 
 become an object of such distaste to him that 
 he could not bear to encounter me ; or did his 
 reluctance proceed from a dread of again ex- 
 posing his heart to the power of my fascinations ? 
 Need I tell my own sex which supposition 
 gained belief in my mind? Yes; I now be- 
 came convinced that he still retained too tender 
 a feeling towards me, to admit of his trusting 
 himself in my presence ; and this belief con- 
 soled me in some degree for the disappointment 
 occasioned by his absence. But then came the 
 reflection, that if thus carefully bent on avoid-
 
 244 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ing me, how was I to meet him ? and my hopes 
 became faint, and my spirits again sank at the 
 prospect of days passed in vain expectation, and 
 nights in as vain regrets I thought the evening 
 interminable. The common-place observations 
 exchanged in the drawing-room, the lacka- 
 daisical compliments by the men, and the sim- 
 pering complacency with which they were 
 received by the women, appeared to me to 
 be more than usually insipid. I offended more 
 than one of the satellites that hovered round me 
 by my total inattention to their petits soins ; and 
 had I not been an heiress as well as a belle, might 
 have risked loosing my popularity. But heiresses 
 have been from time immemorial privileged per- 
 sons, and my abstraction and brusquerie were 
 therefore pronounced to be tres piquant, and 
 quite delightful when compared with the over 
 anxious civilities of the portionless young ladies 
 - who abound in every society. 
 
 Day after day, and week after week rolled 
 away, bringing with them the same dull round
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 245 
 
 of engagements that the upper circles mis-name 
 amusements ; and yet I never caught even a 
 passing glance of Lord Clydesdale 'Still his 
 image occupied my thoughts by day, and my 
 dreams by night. I longed to question those 
 acquainted with him, whether he was still in 
 London ; but I feared to betray my emotion, 
 even while making the demand, and conse- 
 quently refrained from inquiry. His pertinacity 
 in avoiding me, seemed only to have excited an 
 increased desire on my part to behold him 
 again ; and the facility with which I accom- 
 plished every other object, rendered my defeat 
 in this, the dearest of all, more difficult to be 
 borne. I became daily more imperious, more 
 capricious, and unamiable. Yet this inequality 
 of temper and haughtiness of manner, deterred 
 not a numerous train of suitors from endea- 
 vouring to propitiate me. The perfect indif- 
 ference I manifested to all, inspired each indivi- 
 dual with hopes of rendering himself agreeable 
 by submission and perseverance: but angered 
 1
 
 246 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 by their want of spirit and tact I severely tested 
 their powers of forbearance. It was however 
 proof against all the trials to which I subjected 
 it; until unqualified rejections left them no room 
 for hope, and restored to me the peace which 
 their importunities had ruffled. 
 
 Notwithstanding all my vanity, I shrewdly 
 suspected that my fortune had a greater influ- 
 ence over these pretenders to my hand, than the 
 personal attractions, relative to which they paid 
 me such florid compliments. This suspicion 
 offended my amour propre ; and I avenged its 
 humiliation by a contemptuous negligence of 
 manner towards my suitors that might, if it had 
 been adopted by Penelope of old, have enabled 
 her to have sooner rid herself of her more 
 troublesome ones. But my Ulysses came not 
 to relieve me from mine; so I was compelled 
 to dismiss them in propria persona. When they 
 discovered the impartiality I displayed towards 
 them, they unanimously joined in decrying me. 
 I was pronounced to be a proud, capricious, and
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 247 
 
 heartless woman who never had, or never could, 
 love any creature but self! and whose fortune, 
 large as it was, would be insufficient to make 
 amends for my ill temper. Lady Walsingham 
 and I heard of their revengeful strictures from 
 many sources. She wished that I could have 
 behaved with more politeness to them ; adding, 
 that it was always considered that the highest 
 compliment a man could pay to a woman, was 
 to demand her hand. 
 
 " Yes, my dear Lady Walsingham," have I 
 answered, " provided he does not demand also 
 the large fortune that appertains to that hand. 
 A portionless demoiselle has reason to consider 
 it a compliment when a man solicits to become 
 her husband, because she must know, that he 
 can have no pecuniary motive. But those 
 needy aspirants who seek to prop up their falling 
 fortune by that of an heiress, deserve no cere- 
 mony from her, and no pity from others, when 
 they are foiled in their mercenary specula- 
 tions."
 
 248 THE CONFESSIOSTS OF 
 
 How infinitely high did Lord Clydesdale rise 
 in my estimation when I contrasted his conduct 
 with theirs. Alas ! every man who tried to 
 render himself agreeable to me, lost even the 
 claims he possessed to become so, when judged 
 by a comparison with him who was my beau- 
 ideal of perfection. 
 
 At length the season drew to a close, and 
 it became necessary to determine where the 
 autumn and winter should be passed. I should 
 have proposed a return to France and Italy, 
 but that some spell seemed still to attach me 
 to the country that he inhabited. I there- 
 fore determined to remain in England ; and to 
 pass the ensuing months in a round of visits 
 to the various houses to which we were invited. 
 
 About this period, I began to remark the fre- 
 quent visits of Lord Westonville, a nobleman of 
 an agreeable exterior and gentlemanly manners, 
 but of reserved habits. He, among all the men 
 who hovered round me, was the only one who 
 did not appear to offer homage or make any
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 
 
 effort to conciliate my favour. This seeming 
 indifference, while it gave me a better opinion 
 of him, as compared with my suitors, served also 
 to excite a certain degree of interest or curiosity 
 relative to him. 
 
 " What then," thought I, " on observing the 
 frequency of his calls, and " the lingering, coy 
 delay" with which he continued to prolong their 
 duration, he, too, like all the others, aspires to 
 please the rich heiress. Poor man ! he, too, 
 will share their fate ; and subject himself to the 
 mortification of a refusal, as soon as he has 
 declared himself in form." 
 
 And yet there was something so amiable about 
 him, that malgre my woman's vanity, I wished 
 to spare him the humiliation of a rejection, by 
 preventing him from placing himself in the posi- 
 tion of receiving one. I therefore increased the 
 coldness of my manner towards him, to ^the 
 utmost extent to which politeness permits its 
 votaries to go. 
 
 Yet, strange to say, his visits continued to be 
 
 M 3
 
 250 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 as frequent as before ; and, still more strange, 
 he appeared wholly regardless of my hauteur. 
 He seemed perfectly consoled for my taciturnity, 
 by the unaffected cheerfulness of Lady Walsing- 
 ham's conversation; and I concluded, that dis- 
 covering my distaste to his attentions, he had 
 transferred a portion of them towards her, for 
 the purpose of conciliating her influence in his 
 favour. I smiled internally, at anticipating the 
 disappointment that awaited him ; and expected 
 every day to hear my stepmother commence a 
 covert plan of attack, by praising the knight, 
 whose cause she seemed to encourage, if not 
 espouse. Still she said nothing ; and my curiosity 
 became more piqued. Unable to repress it, I 
 one day remarked to her, that Lord Westonville 
 had now become the most constant and assiduous 
 of our visitors. 
 
 " I hope his presence is not disagreeable to 
 you, my dear Arabella," replied Lady Walsing- 
 ham, looking somewhat embarrassed. 
 
 " Ho, ho," thought I, "now I shall hear what
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 251 
 
 I have so long been expecting. It is evident 
 she wishes that I should be favourably disposed 
 towards him." 
 
 " Why, as to being disagreeable to me, ma 
 chere belle mere" answered I, " as long as he 
 chooses to confine his attentions to mere friend- 
 ship, I can have no objection to his visits ; but 
 beyond that, I acknowledge that they would not 
 be acceptable." 
 
 " I rather feared so," said Lady Walsingham ; 
 " and this fear has had great weight with me. 
 Still I hoped, that when better acquainted with 
 Lord Westonville, who is really an estimable 
 man, you might have conquered your repug- 
 nance. Your feelings, of course, my dear Ara- 
 bella, have the greatest weight with me." 
 
 " In a case like the present they are doubtless 
 of the utmost importance," replied I. 
 
 " Am I then to conclude that such a union 
 would be painful to you?" asked Lady Walsing- 
 ham ; " because, in that case, I would at once 
 put an end to his hopes."
 
 252 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 " Such a union is quite out of the question ; 
 and the sooner you tell him so, the better." 
 
 " But, surely some delicacy is due to his 
 feelings; his proposals have been so generous, 
 so" 
 
 " Really, my dear Lady Walsingham, I can- 
 not discover the generosity. Ladies with large 
 fortunes of their own, can seldom, if ever, ex- 
 perience any great generosity on the part of 
 their suitors." 
 
 " I perceive that your dislike to Lord Weston- 
 ville is insurmountable," said ma belle mere, 
 " and therefore I shah 1 not accept his hand." 
 
 " Not accept his hand ! good heavens, you 
 astonish me 1 had no idea you have taken me 
 quite by surprise," replied I, totally forgetful, at 
 the moment, what a silly figure I must make by 
 avowing the error into which my vanity had 
 plunged me. " Then Lord Westonville's views 
 are directed to you '?" 
 
 " I have only lately been aware of his pre- 
 dilection," answered Lady Walsingham ; " but I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 253 
 
 should never have permitted his attentions, had 
 I imagined that your feelings were so repugnant 
 to mv accepting him. I never have been, never 
 can be, unmindful of all that I owe to you and 
 your excellent father," resumed she ; " and ill 
 would it become me to bestow my hand on one 
 who, however irreproachable, had inspired you 
 with a sentiment of dislike, that might interrupt 
 the harmony that has ever subsisted between us, 
 or prevent my acting as hitherto, as your chape- 
 ron, companion, and friend." 
 
 When I looked at the beautiful woman before 
 me, I could hardly understand how I had been 
 so blind to her great personal attractions, of 
 which habit alone could have rendered me for- 
 getful. My own overweening vanity had also 
 helped towards this obliviousness ; and, truth to 
 say, the idea of her exciting admiration, or love, 
 when I was present, seemed to me to be as 
 wholly out of the question as if she were old and 
 ugly, instead of being still young and beautiful. 
 1 felt ashamed to avow the mistake into which
 
 254 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 my egregious vanity had hurried me ; and Lady 
 Walsingham, who was occupied with her own 
 thoughts, appeared not to have observed it. 
 Making an effort to conceal my embarrassment, 
 I embraced her, and murmured something about 
 my repugnance being caused wholly by the dread 
 of parting from her. 
 
 " I expected that you would have felt this re- 
 gret, my dearest Arabella ; indeed, I should 
 have been hurt if you had not. Yet, let me 
 assure you that if my marriage was to separate 
 me from you, before yours had more naturally 
 led to this result, I should never have had 
 courage to contemplate such a measure. But, 
 with so many suitors, it is impossible that you 
 should not select some one on whom to bestow 
 your hand; and when that hour arrives, my 
 continued residence beneath your roof would 
 not be necessary ; and, certainly, would not be 
 agreeable to your husband." 
 
 " Talk not to me of an event that is now never 
 likely to occur. You know the cruel disap-
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 255 
 
 pointment my own folly has occasioned me ; a 
 disappointment, the effects of which have not 
 yet ceased to be felt with bitterness. But no 
 more of that I shall never marry. Yet, I must 
 not, therefore, permit you to renounce a union 
 that secures you a protector and companion for 
 life. No ! that would be too selfish." 
 
 " I had determined," resumed Lady Walsing- 
 ham, " on informing Lord Westonville that I 
 should, with his permission, take a year to con- 
 sider his proposals; not, however, holding him 
 bound to any engagement, though I should 
 deem myself excluded from entertaining any 
 other proposition of a similar nature during that 
 period. If his attachment be as sincere as I am 
 willing to believe, he will not object to so rea- 
 sonable a plan ; and within that period my 
 chaperonage for you, dear Arabella, may be no 
 longer necessary." 
 
 " I see by the smile on your lips, ma belle mere, 
 that you are incredulous with regard to my
 
 256 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 determination of leading a life of single blessed- 
 ness. But time will prove that this resolution 
 is a firm one ; and, en attendant, I do not see why 
 you should compel Lord Westonville to the pro- 
 bation of a yeaiysatisfied as you already are that 
 he is amiable, sensible, and suitable ; in fact, to 
 exhaust all the panegyrical bles, unexceptional. 
 If his lordship will condescend to pass a few 
 months of every year at my chateau, and receive 
 me as a guest at his, I may still enjoy all the ad- 
 vantages of your chaperonage, with the addition 
 and acquisition of his Lordship's protection to 
 the belle fille of his wife. I promise to be as 
 amiable a hostess as possible to him, and as little 
 troublesome a guest as may be. Do pray, dear 
 Lady Walsingham, adopt my plan ; it is much 
 more reasonable than yours ; and I am sure Lord 
 Westonville will thank me for the suggestion." 
 
 People are always willing to follow advice 
 when it accords with their own wishes; Xady 
 Walsingham's pointed towards the counsel I gave,
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 257 
 
 and it required only a little perseverance on my 
 part, and the display of Lord Westonville's im- 
 patience, to determine her to yield. 
 
 The truth was, that being still in the bloom of 
 life, with a natural timidity of disposition which 
 led her to seek protection and companionship, it 
 was not to be wondered at, that, finding a man 
 of high station, prepossessing appearance, culti- 
 vated mind, and agreeable manners, who pre- 
 ferred her to any of the reigning belles of the 
 day with whom he could not have failed to have 
 found favour, she was disposed to accept his 
 hand. 
 
 Time, that omnipotent effacer of eternal pas- 
 sions, had obliterated the youthful one of ma 
 belle mere ; or, if not wholly obliterated, had left 
 only a pensive recollection of it, that could in no 
 degree interfere with the duties or happiness of 
 a wedded state. Her position, even in the life- 
 time of my dear father, had never been one of 
 perfect ease ; for, though treated by him with 
 consideration and kindness, the absence of all
 
 258 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 warmer feelings towards her in his heart must 
 have made her continually sensible that to his 
 love for me alone she owed the station to which 
 he had elevated her. This consciousness, ope- 
 rating on a very timid disposition, served to 
 render her more like a governess than a mistress 
 of the house. Indeed, she never acted as such, 
 exercising no authority, and confining herself to 
 a scrupulous attention to my poor father's per- 
 sonal comforts and my improvement. 
 
 After his death, she sank into the timid and 
 retiring companion, instead of assuming that 
 influential dignity to which, as my father's widow, 
 she was entitled. It was, consequently, but na- 
 tural that she should listen with complacency to 
 the offer now made to her, the acceptance of 
 which would secure her a protector and com- 
 panion for life ; and he who aspired to her hand 
 being in every way so unexceptionable a parti, 
 that few women would have rejected him, or 
 have felt otherwise than flattered by his pre- 
 ference.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 259 
 
 Though no one could be more sensible of 
 Lady Walsingham's merits and attractions than 
 myself, still so occupied had my mind lately 
 been by the conviction of my own supremacy, 
 that I never expected that any man could bestow 
 aught more than the tribute of an evanescent 
 admiration on her inferior charms, when he had 
 an opportunity of contemplating mine; and, 
 consequently, when I paused before the mirror, 
 and complacently gazed on the image it reflected, 
 I confess that some pity, as well as surprise, was 
 mingled in the opinion I formed of Lord Wes- 
 tonville's taste, or rather, according to my 
 notions, want of taste. 
 
 I began, in spite, however, of this egotistical 
 delusion, again for the first time to believe that 
 my charms were not so extremely irresistible as 
 I had hitherto imagined them to be ; and this 
 belief awakened some salutary reflections in my 
 mind. Would that I had encouraged them ! 
 they might have saved me from some follies and 
 more regrets. But, like most vain people, I
 
 260 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 silenced the admonitions of reason, and continued 
 to cherish an overweening self admiration. 
 
 Fearing that I had revealed to my step- 
 mother the weakness of having supposed that 
 I was the object of Lord Westonville's prefer- 
 ence, I anxiously watched to discover to what 
 extent she had detected me. But such was the 
 simplicity of mind and singleness of heart of 
 this excellent woman, that I really believe the 
 circumstance had quite escaped her ; or if it had 
 not, her manner conveyed no symptom of her 
 having observed it. A vain woman would have 
 not only quickly discovered my mistake, but 
 would have as quickly let me see that she had 
 made the discovery, by resenting the implied 
 slight to her attractions, and ridiculing the 
 erroneous estimate of my own. 
 
 But Lady Walsingham was not a vain woman ; 
 and consequently, had no incentive either to de- 
 tect the vanity of others, or to reap a triumph 
 for her own. How many of our sex, who would 
 otherwise have been estimable, have had their
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 261 
 
 noblest qualities sullied by this one, but en- 
 grossing passion, which, " like Aaron's serpent, 
 swallows up the rest ;" rendering them eager to 
 quarrel with the vanity of every other human 
 being, in order to avenge the jealousy and 
 exigeance of their own. How often do we hear 
 women exclaim, " I cannot support Lady So 
 and So, or Mrs. So and So, she is so intolerably 
 vain ;" never recollecting that this anger fur- 
 nishes the most irrefragable proof that they pos- 
 sess in no ordinary degree the very quality they 
 condemn ; for it is an indisputable fact, that only 
 vain people wage war against the vanity of others. 
 But to quit this digression and return to my 
 story. It was agreed that the nuptials of Lord 
 Westonville with ma belle mere should be so- 
 lemnized at Walsingham Castle in three months; 
 and that the intervening period should be passed 
 in a round of visits. When I beheld the 
 regret with which Lord Westonville quitted his 
 future bride the morning of our departure from 
 London, a sentiment almost amounting to envy,
 
 262 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 took possession of my mind. She was cared 
 for, her absence was lamented, and her presence 
 desired; while I was, as it were, alone in the 
 world, necessary to no one, and left to support 
 as best I might, the humiliating consciousness 
 of my isolated state. 
 
 Never until Lady Wasingham's engagement 
 with Lord Westonville had I imagined myself as 
 otherwise than an enviable person. My position, 
 my beauty and fortune, and the crowd of ad- 
 mirers which these advantages drew around me, 
 had induced me to believe that I was the mag- 
 net of general attraction ; and had only to extend 
 a gracious smile to any of my adorers in order 
 to behold him at my feet. But now my feelings 
 were changed. The homage and respectful 
 tenderness I saw lavished on Lady Walsing- 
 ham by her accepted suitor, a homage offered 
 in as seemingly total an obliviousness of my 
 presence as if I were not in existence, wounded 
 my amour propre so extremely, that I was almost 
 disposed to look favourably upon some one of
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 263 
 
 the individuals, whose addresses I had so super- 
 ciliously rejected but a short time previously, in 
 order to secure to myself a similar devotion. 
 
 Such is the strange inconsistency of human 
 nature, verifying the truth of the lines of our 
 inspired bard 
 
 " O, how bitter a thing it is to look into hap- 
 piness through another's eyes." 
 
 The first visit we paid, was to the seat of the 
 Marquis of Doncaster, in the eyes of whose 
 fastidious Marchioness I had been so fortunate 
 as to find favour ; a distinction rarely accorded 
 even to the most meritorious, and consequently 
 sought with greater avidity by those who valued 
 it as many other worthless objects are valued, 
 for its rarity. 
 
 The Marquis was a dull, pompous, but not 
 an ill tempered man. Naturally disposed to 
 entertain a very high opinion of himself and his 
 possessions, this feeling had been encouraged by 
 the partner he had selected to share them ; until 
 he had arrived at that happy, though not unfre-
 
 264 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 quent state of mind, in which people are so 
 wholly engrossed by self as to become totally 
 oblivious of others, except in relation to them- 
 selves. The Marchioness of Doncaster never 
 for a moment forgot that she was of ancient 
 descent, possessed immense wealth, and arro- 
 gated great importance ; neither was she dis- 
 posed to permit any one else to forget these 
 distinctions. The slightest symptom of a want 
 of recollection on these points produced an 
 increase of hauteur on her part, and not un- 
 seldom, a sententious diatribe on the respectful 
 deference which she considered to be her due. 
 
 Such is the weakness or meanness of the ge- 
 nerality of people, that she found no lack of 
 persons willing to propitiate her favour by 
 a system of subserviency, that served to ren- 
 der her still more dictatorial; falsely attri- 
 buting to her own acknowledged superiority, 
 that which was but the proof of the unworthi- 
 ness of her flatterers. She and her lord lived 
 in a state of complete illusion, and this illusion
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 265 
 
 constituted their happiness. They continually 
 quoted each other's opinions as if they con- 
 sidered them worthy of forming a code to 
 regulate the conduct of their acquaintance ; but 
 never were they kind enough to defer, or refer to 
 the sentiments of any other person. If by chance 
 some individual not versed in the peculiarities 
 of the noble host and hostess ventured to state 
 the on dits of some other magnet of the land, 
 they instantly drew up to the utmost extent of 
 their stateliness, and silenced the speaker by say- 
 ing, " Lord Doncaster and I am of a totally 
 different opinion," or " the Marchioness and 
 I think otherwise." 
 
 These sentences were considered to be con- 
 clusive; and, like the laws of the Medes and 
 Persians, to admit of no appeal. I was not a 
 person likely to propitiate the Marchioness by 
 any undue deference to her opinions, as I had 
 long indulged in nearly as erroneous a belief in 
 the infallibility of my own ; but the antiquity of 
 my family, or as she was pleased to term it, my 
 
 N
 
 266 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 illustrious descent, aided perhaps by my large 
 possessions, and an occasional and unamiable 
 display of Jierte in my manner, had won her 
 regard. 
 
 To Lady Walsingham she was condescend- 
 ingly polite ; but the condescension was so 
 ostentatiously manifested, as not unfrequently to 
 render the politeness more disagreeable and 
 offensive than the most studied negligence would 
 have been. 
 
 The house bore undeniable demonstrations of 
 the character of the owners magnificence had 
 banished comfort; and the very chairs seemed 
 to have been designed with a reference to the 
 peculiarities of the Marquis and the Marchioness; 
 the backs being so unusually perpendicular, that 
 the slightest approach to a reclining posture was 
 rendered impracticable. The sofas were so far 
 removed from the formal circle in which the 
 chairs were placed that they were useless ; and 
 these last were so cumbrous, that to move one 
 of them out of its accustomed station was an
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 267 
 
 Herculean task. The dimensions of the furni- 
 ture were of Brobdignagian proportions, totally 
 defying any effort of ordinary strength to dis- 
 place them; and I have seen the Marchioness 
 compelled to require the assistance of two of her 
 footmen to draw the ponderous fire screen to 
 protect her visage from the effects of the fire. 
 
 The bed and dressing rooms appropriated to 
 visitors, though containing all that wealth could 
 place in them, bid defiance to comfort, even still 
 more obviously than the saloons. No bergere or 
 sofa on castors to admit of their being wheeled 
 near the fire, were to be found in them. Heavy 
 carved and gilded ones were placed formally 
 against the walls of the vast apartments, from 
 which it would have required the strength of 
 half-a-dozen laqueys to have removed them. 
 The dressing table, with its accessories in mas- 
 sive silver, stood in the centre ; and at such a 
 distance from the windows as to preclude a clear 
 view in the mirror of the countenance of the 
 person who used it. This circumstance perhaps,
 
 268 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 might account for the undue and unequal distri- 
 bution of rouge that was wont to appear on the 
 cheeks of the noble hostess ; one of which was 
 generally much more florid than the other. 
 Probably this circumstance too might be cited in 
 explanation of the occasional elevation of one of 
 her eyebrows; the black wax that imparted to 
 them their raven hue, being not unfrequently 
 placed above, instead of on, the brow. 
 
 The first day of our arrival, the only guests 
 assembled to meet us were the rector of the 
 parish, and the doctor, with their respective 
 wives. The appearance of both these worthies 
 might have served to convince even the most 
 incredulous person, of the superior advantages 
 enjoyed by him to whom was delegated the care 
 of souls, over him to whom was intrusted the cure 
 of bodies. The reverend doctor was a man of 
 extraordinary obesity and rubicund countenance ; 
 while the medical doctor looked as if he had 
 swallowed half the physic he had prescribed for 
 others, so thin was his frame, and so palid his face.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 269 
 
 Their help-mates resembled their liege lords in 
 a remarkable degree, Mrs. Warburton being 
 almost as fat as the reverend doctor, while Mrs. 
 Hollingford looked in a state of advanced atrophy. 
 Never had I witnessed such extreme obsequi- 
 ousness as that exhibited by these four individuals 
 to the Marquis and Marchioness of Doncaster. 
 They assented to every observation uttered by 
 either, generally adding, "your ladyship is always 
 right," or " your lordship is perfectly correct." 
 They did ample justice to the dinner which was 
 more remarkable for its copiousness, than for the 
 talents of the cook. The reverend doctor, united 
 the fastidiousness of an epicure in his enti'eaties 
 for the most delicate morsels, with the gluttony 
 of the gourmand in the rapidity with which he 
 caused their disappearance ; while the M. D. 
 positively devoured, like a famished man, de- 
 termined to make the best use of his time. 
 
 " What is the news, Dr. Hollingford," de- 
 manded Lord Doncaster, when the removal of
 
 !270 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the soup and fish, allowed a few brief minutes of 
 
 repose to that gentleman. 
 
 " No news, my Lord Marquis, the country 
 
 never was so dull; scarcely a patient amongst 
 
 the gentry. But among the poor, nothing but 
 coughs and sore throats ; the apothecary of the 
 county dispensary declares he never furnished so 
 much medicine before; and for my part, I do 
 nothing but ride all over the parish, and write 
 prescriptions." 
 
 " How very strange," said Lady Doncaster, 
 " that while the upper classes are so well, the 
 lower ones should be so unhealthy, notwithstand- 
 ing they live in the same climate. Such a circum- 
 stance justifies my hypothesis, that the upper- 
 class are as superior in physical as they are in 
 mental powers to the lower orders." 
 
 " That's just what I say, your ladyship," ob- 
 served Mrs. Hollingford, " the wealthy are 
 rarely ill. Now there's Mr. Goldsworthy, the 
 retired brewer, who is as rich as a Jew, he has
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 271 
 
 now been two whole years in the parish, and 
 never once sent for the doctor. Why its a per- 
 fect shame ! How does he think doctors are to 
 live?" 
 
 A look of unutterable contempt from Lady 
 Doncaster, was all the notice taken of this 
 remark ; but the reverend divine continued the 
 subject, saying, " I don't quite know what to 
 make of this same Mr. Goldsworthy. He has 
 never been once to my church since he came 
 here, which I hold to be very indecorous, and 
 disrespectful to me." 
 
 " The two sins of omission you have both 
 related, explains the cause of Mr. Goldsworthy 's 
 uninterrupted health," replied the Marquis of 
 Doncaster, with a species of laugh vulgarly 
 denominated a chuckle. " By not going into 
 your damp church, reverend sir, he escapes cold ; 
 and by not sending for the doctor, he avoids the 
 necessity of taking physic. Eh gentlemen, eh, 
 eh, what do you say to that ? " 
 
 " Your lordship is so very droll ;" uttered one,
 
 272 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 and, " your lordship is pleased to banter," said 
 the other. 
 
 At this moment, a portion of a glass of wine 
 which Dr. Warburton was gulping down rather 
 too rapidly, went wrong, and produced all the 
 symptoms of strangulation. His rubicund face 
 became of a dark purple hue, his eyes appeared 
 starting from their orbits, and a convulsive noise 
 was heard to issue from his throat. Doctor 
 Hollingford started from his seat, drew a case of 
 lancets from his pocket, and prepared to remove 
 Dr. Warburton's coat for the purpose of trying 
 the effects of phlebotomy ; but Mrs. Warburton 
 rushed to the defence of her husband, and placing 
 herself between him and the doctor, exclaimed 
 that he should not be bled. The maitre d' 
 hotel, more judicious than the doctor or the 
 suffering man's angry wife, untied his cravat ; 
 and Mrs. Warburton, having now succeeded in 
 sending back the mortified and disappointed 
 Dr. Hollingford to his seat, applied her finger 
 and thumb to the snuff box which she took from
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 273 
 
 her husband's pocket, and conveyed a large 
 pinch of the pungent powder into his nostrils. 
 
 " Have a care madam what you do," said the 
 angry and baffled doctor, " the consequences may 
 be attended with great danger ; the already 
 overcharged vessels of the head may not be 
 capable of resisting the undue excitement of 
 sternutation, at such a moment." 
 
 This reasonable remonstrance produced no 
 other effect on the enlightened Mrs. Warburton, 
 than to induce her to administer a still larger 
 pinch of snuff to the nostrils of her convulsed 
 husband, who now, in addition to the hiccup, 
 began sneezing repeatedly and violently, sending 
 forth at each effort, most unseemly aspersions 
 over the dishes. Lady Doncaster ordered the 
 entrees within reach of the undesirable irrigation 
 to be forthwith removed ; and looked the very 
 incarnation of dismay and anger at this un- 
 timely interruption of the repast. Her lord 
 seemed more disposed to smile at than sympa- 
 thize with Dr. Warburton's painful situation : 
 
 N3
 
 274 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 who still continued to sneeze, though he, with 
 one hand manfully resisted his wife's efforts to 
 force on him another pinch of snuff. 
 
 Doctor Hollingford kept his eyes fixed on the 
 reverend divine with a glance of such intense 
 curiosity, that I was uncharitable enough to 
 think, that he would not have been sorry, had 
 his prediction of the danger to which Mrs. War- 
 burton's treatment exposed the life of her hus- 
 band, been verified, and thus established a proof 
 of his prescience and skill. But he was doomed to 
 be disappointed ; for, after a quarter of an hour's 
 suffering, Dr. Warburton was restored to his 
 usual state of composure. But not so his wife ; 
 who, holding the snuff-box open, while the doctor 
 struggled against her administering another 
 pinch, his hand came in contact with the box, 
 and sent its contents into her eyes, as she in a 
 recumbent posture approached him. She bore 
 not this accident patiently, but uttered piercing 
 cries, closing her eyes tenaciously, as if to retain 
 all the pungent powder that they had received.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 275 
 
 Dr. Hollingford again approached her to offer 
 his advice, and again was repulsed, with less of 
 urbanity than decorum wiirranted. 
 
 " Yes, yes, you want to make a job of me," 
 exclaimed the fat lady, " I know you do, but you 
 shall have no fee from me, I can tell you." 
 
 " For the matter of that ma'am," replied Mrs. 
 Hollingford, " I'd have you to know that my 
 husband, Dr. Hollingford, is not a man to think 
 of fees, when a fellow-creature is in peril, as all 
 the poor in the parish can vouch. But some 
 people are so very suspicious and stingy, that it 
 is difficult for other people to escape their cen- 
 sures." 
 
 " If by some people, you mean me, ma'am," 
 answered Mrs. Warburton, still wiping her eyes, 
 and horribly distorting her countenance, " I can 
 assure you that" 
 
 " Ladies, I beg," said Lady Doncaster, " that 
 you will remember that Lady Walsingham, Lady 
 Arabella Walsingham, Lord Doncaster, and my- 
 self can feel very little interest in your local 
 differences, and therefore I request that you will
 
 276 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 restrain the expression of them for a more fitting 
 occasion." 
 
 This was said with the Marchioness' most stern 
 and dignified air, and produced the desired 
 effect; for Mrs.Warburton " hoped her Ladyship 
 would have the goodness to excuse her warmth ;" 
 and Mrs. Hollingford humbly " begged her Lady- 
 ship's pardon." 
 
 Peace being restored, though it was evident 
 that the angry feelings of the ladies of the D. D. 
 and M. D., were by no means appeased, notwith- 
 standing that a fear of offending the noble host 
 and hostess, induced them to subdue every ex- 
 ternal symptom of irritation, Lady Doncaster 
 announced that, by letters received that morning 
 from London, she was informed, that their friend 
 Lord Westonville was shortly to lead to the hy- 
 meneal altar, the Lady Theodosia Fitz Hamil- 
 ton. 
 
 " A very suitable and proper marriage," re- 
 plied Lord Doncaster, " unobjectionable in every 
 point of view." 
 
 " Yes," said the Marchioness, " Lady Theo-
 
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 277 
 
 dosia is a most dignified and high-bred young 
 woman ; one who has a proper consciousness of 
 her own elevated position, and who will never 
 permit others to forget it." 
 
 " Lady Doncaster is in this instance, as in all 
 others, perfectly correct," observed the Marquis ; 
 " Lady Theodosia is precisely the model I should 
 select to represent the female aristocracy of Eng- 
 land. No weak condescension about her; no 
 undignified desire to please." 
 
 " I am highly gratified by the -match," resumed 
 Lady Doncaster oracularly, "for, as my Lord 
 observes, Lady Theodosia is indeed a model for 
 all women, and a union with her must insure the 
 happiness of Lord Westonville." 
 
 " I am strongly disposed to disbelieve the re- 
 port," said I, somewhat maliciously. 
 
 " And pray why, Lady Arabella?" demanded 
 Lady Doncaster, with her most stately air. 
 
 Lady Walsingham cast an imploring glance 
 at me ; but I could not resist adding, " simply, 
 because I happen to know, that Lord Weston-
 
 278 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ville has proposed to, and been accepted by, 
 another, and I think more eligible person." 
 
 " But, you will excuse me, Lady Arabella, if 
 I say, that ladies are sometimes prone to in- 
 sinuate that gentlemen have proposed to them, 
 who never entertained any such intention." 
 
 " In the present instance, there can be no 
 mistake," replied I, " for Lord Westonville him- 
 self, talked to me of his approaching nuptials 
 with the lady to whom I referred." 
 
 " You astonish me," answered the Marchio- 
 ness, with an expression that more plainly ex- 
 pressed, " you enrage me." 
 
 " Yes, you really surprise me, as Lady Don- 
 caster justly observed," said her sapient Lord : 
 " and had you not mentioned that you heard 
 Lord Westonville himself confirm his intention 
 of wedding another lady, I should hardly have 
 permitted myself to credit the assertion ; for the 
 Dowager Duchess of Willmingham, who wrote 
 the other statement to Lady Doncaster, is ex- 
 tremely accurate in the intelligence she conveys."
 
 > 
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 279 
 
 " I hope the lady in question is of ancient 
 descent, for I cannot bear the thought of a mes- 
 alliance ; and I trust she possesses the same dig- 
 nified manners that characterise Lady Theo- 
 dosia?" 
 
 Poor Lady Walsingham blushed to her very 
 temples; but luckily no one observed this betrayal 
 of her keen sense of the illiberal remark of her 
 haughty hostess. 
 
 " The lady is of high rank," answered I, 
 " and her manners I have always considered 
 very distinguished and agreeable. To be sure, 
 she does condescend to please ; and never fails 
 to succeed." 
 
 " Then," retorted the hostess, angrily, " she 
 must be, in my opinion, deficient in the dignity 
 that ought to appertain to a high-born woman. 
 I never could tolerate the idea of a lady of rank so 
 far forgetting what is due to herself and sex, as to 
 seek to obtain, by propitiation, the homage and 
 the suffrage which her station ought to command." 
 
 " Lady Doncaster speaks my sentiments on
 
 280 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 this point," said her lord, looking pompously 
 and half angrily ; " I mast say, I never could 
 tolerate the modern system which, if it degene- 
 rates not into a vulgar familiarity, is at least too 
 much calculated to make people forget the line 
 of demarcation which should ever subsist between 
 a lady of ancient and noble lineage, and the mere 
 pretenders to fashion ; who, by the influence of 
 wealth, force themselves into a society they are 
 so little fitted to adorn." 
 
 " Lord Doncaster's notions on this subject 
 are well worth attention and adoption," observed 
 his lady wife, smiling complacently on him. 
 
 " Your ladyship and his lordship's notions on 
 all subjects, must ever be worth attending to," 
 remarked the reverend doctor ; " and happy are 
 those who have an opportunity of being edified 
 by them." 
 
 " Happy indeed;" ejaculated Dr. Holling- 
 ford, in a tone partaking of a groan and a 
 thanksgiving. " Why no later than yesterday, 
 Sir Gregory Tomkinson observed to me, that
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 281 
 
 affairs would never go right until the Marquis 
 of Doncaster was at their head." 
 
 " What signifies the opinion of a city knight?" 
 retorted Dr. Warburton, " when Sir John Haver- 
 stoke, one of the most ancient baronets in Eng- 
 land ; ay, and a man possessing a clear estate of 
 twelve thousand pounds a year, told me last 
 Sunday, after church, (for he makes it a point 
 never to omit attending divine worship) that his 
 lordship was the nobleman on whom all eyes 
 were turned to be prime minister." 
 
 " Though the opinions of Sir John Haverstoke 
 are certainly worth attending to, as representing 
 those of the landed interest in the county, still 
 those of Sir Gregory Tomkinson are not to be 
 despised ; for I have observed on more occasions 
 than one, that he is a sensible and discriminating 
 man." 
 
 This speech was uttered by the noble host 
 with an affectation of humility and condescension 
 that was highly amusing; and the approval of 
 Sir Gregory from so high a quarter carried balm
 
 282 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 to the wound inflicted by Dr. Warburton on the 
 feelings of the worthy M. D. 
 
 " But for my part," resumed Lord Doncaster, 
 " nothing would be more disagreeable to me 
 than finding myself compelled to accept office. 
 Indeed, nothing short of a royal command would 
 induce me to do so; for, as Lady Doncaster 
 very properly observed, when we talked the 
 matter over, a person of my high rank and for- 
 tune can gain no accession of dignity by holding 
 office; and the fatigue and trouble present an 
 insuperable objection, as I stated in a certain 
 influential indeed, I may say illustrious quar- 
 ter, when certain propositions were more than 
 hinted at." 
 
 " Yes," said the Marchioness, " my lord and 
 I are placed in a position that precludes us from 
 experiencing the temptations of ambition ; and I 
 never could submit to be, as prime minister's 
 wife, compelled to receive a heterogeneous mass 
 of people, to whom it would be necessary to 
 enact the gracious."
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 283 
 
 The D. D., M. D., and their respective wives, 
 looked with increased awe and reverence at the 
 noble host, and hostess ; but fortunately, a signal 
 from the latter led us to the drawing-room, and 
 released us from the prosy flatteries of the toad- 
 eating doctors, and the self-complacent replies 
 of the gratified host. 
 
 We found our sejour at Doncaster Castle so 
 irksome that we abridged it, and proceeded to- 
 wards home, judging by this specimen of country 
 houses that our own was preferable to any we 
 might encounter. 
 
 The eccentricities of our late host and hostess 
 furnished abundant subject for my ill-natured 
 comments during the first day of our route 
 homewards; notwithstanding that Lady Wal- 
 singham, with the kindness that always charac- 
 terised her, interposed the shield of her good 
 nature between their defects and the severity of 
 my animadversions. She censured the too preva- 
 lent habit in guests of violating the rights of 
 hospitality, by criticising those infirmities which
 
 284 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the confidence of friendship has alone developed, 
 and which in a less intimate intercourse would 
 probably have never been revealed. 
 
 " But who, my dear Lady Walsingham, would 
 offer this hospitality, did they not intend to en- 
 liven the t&dium vitce, by detecting the follies of 
 their guests ; the recapitulation of which, after 
 their departure, serves as an agreeable mode of 
 varying the monotony of a country-house exist- 
 ence. The guests are generally aware of this 
 dissecting process, and repay it in kind. Now, 
 I dare be sworn that at this moment Lord and 
 Lady Doncaster are pitying ' that poor dear mild 
 Lady Walsingham, (who, though, to be sure, a 
 leetle dull, is nevertheless a very inoffensive good 
 sort of a person) at being compelled to live 
 with that flippant imperious Lady Arabella, who 
 seems to think, forsooth, that because she comes 
 of an ancient lineage, and is an heiress, she is 
 superior to the rest of the world." 
 
 *' How can you, Arabella, be so suspicious and 
 satirical ?"
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 285 
 
 " And how can you, ma chere belle mere, be so 
 very unsuspicious and good natured ?" 
 
 This was the mode in which Lady Walsing- 
 ham's reproofs were made and received. She 
 was, in truth, the very soul of womanly charity, 
 ever ready to put the most favourable con- 
 struction on the actions of others, and to require 
 none for her own ; for they were pure and 
 blameless as her soul. Yet, strange to say, it 
 was perhaps this unusual gentleness and bene- 
 volence in her that urged me to a not unfrequent 
 practice of the contrary qualities. Her extra- 
 ordinary forbearance irritated me at times; and 
 led to my expressing opinions that were not 
 always founded in justice. She judged the 
 world by the fair model of human nature best 
 known to herself, while I drew my conclusions 
 from the unfavourable specimen of it offered in 
 my own character. We were both wrong; but 
 her error was the more amiable. 
 
 On arriving at the Marquis of Granby Inn, 
 at Northallerton, where we were to remain for
 
 286 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the night, we after a light repast sought our 
 separate chambers. After having dismissed my 
 attendant, I recollected that 1 had forgotten a 
 book in the sitting-room, to which I attached a 
 peculiar value, it having been the gift of Lord 
 Clydesdale. Fearful of its getting into other 
 hands, I seized a light, and was hurrying in 
 search of it, when my foot was caught in a rent 
 of the stair carpet, and I was falling to the 
 ground ; but was saved by being caught in the 
 arms of a person who was ascending. 
 
 Flurried and rendered nervous by this accident, 
 I trembled so violently that the person who had 
 arrested my fall still supported me; fearful lest I 
 should again be exposed to a similar danger. 
 I turned to thank him, when Oh ! merciful 
 Heaven ! I recognised in the stranger him who 
 
 for months and years had occupied every thought, 
 
 t 
 filled every dream, and was allied to every hope 
 
 of my doting heart ! A passionate burst of tears 
 relieved me; and "Do I again see you, Clydes- 
 dale ? Dear always dear Clydesdale !" broke
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 287 
 
 from my lips, as clinging to him, and subdued 
 by the surprise and joy of seeing him, I wept on 
 his bosom. " Cruel Clydesdale ! how could you 
 fly from me ? Ah ! if you knew the days of 
 care, the nights without sleep, that I have passed 
 
 since you left me !" And here my tears and 
 
 sobs precluded me from finishing the sentence. 
 
 All this scene passed on the public stair- case 
 of a crowded inn ; and that there were no wit- 
 nesses of it seems nothing short of a miracle. 
 He trembled nearly as much as I did, and bore 
 me into the sitting room to which I had been 
 proceeding when we met, and the door of which 
 stood open. When he had placed me on a chair, 
 I fixed my eyes fondly on his face that face 
 which memory had so often and tenderly re- 
 called to my mind. Its paleness and solemnity so 
 shocked and alarmed me, that, forgetful of the 
 pride and delicacy of my sex, and awake only to 
 
 v 
 
 the dread of again losing him, I passionately 
 poured forth the confession of my unchanged, 
 my unchangeable love; the truth of which the
 
 288 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 energy of my manner and the tears that bathed 
 my cheeks too well attested. He made many 
 efforts to interrupt me while I spoke, but I 
 would not be checked. The feelings so long 
 pent up in my heart now burst forth, and could 
 not be repressed. What, then, was my agony at 
 discovering that his countenance became still 
 more pale and solemn as I proceeded. 
 
 " Is it, can it be, Clydesdale," I exclaimed in 
 deep humiliation, " that you no longer love 
 me?" 
 
 " The position in which this fatal rencontre 
 places us," replied he, and he trembled while 
 he spoke, " compels me to avow that, welcome 
 as would once have been the confession you 
 have made me, dear Lady Arabella, it now 
 conies too late; for I, I am the husband of 
 another." 
 
 Never shall I forget the overpowering agony 
 of that moment ! how I wished it was the last of 
 my existence ! He, even he, the traitor, seemed 
 to feel for the misery he had inflicted, but the
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 289 
 
 expression of pity on his countenance nearly 
 maddened me. 
 
 " Leave me ! leave me, for ever ;" I passion- 
 ately exclaimed. " You shall be obeyed ;" an- 
 swered he with sadness. " But do not let us 
 part in unkindness. You have not, believe me, 
 a truer friend." 
 
 " Leave me ! " I again exclaimed, " unless you 
 would see me driven to some act of insanity." 
 
 He slowly left the room, and I stole to my 
 chamber, to which my trembling limbs could 
 scarcely bear me, like a degraded and guilty 
 creature, whose heart was torn between the con- 
 flicting emotions of love and shame. When I 
 reflected that I had poured into the ear of the 
 husband of another, the mad, the immodest 
 avowal of a passion, which I could no longer 
 entertain, or he reciprocate, without guilt and 
 infamy, the deepest sense of humiliation took 
 possession of my mind. I writhed in mental 
 torture under this degrading consciousness of 
 my own folly ; tears of agony flowed down my 
 
 o
 
 '290 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 burning cheeks; and I dreaded to meet the 
 light of day, deserted and despised, as I now 
 felt myself to be. 
 
 Jealousy also added its sharp pangs to those 
 inflicted by disappointed love and shame. He, 
 whom alone, I ever really, truly loved, was 
 now lavishing on another those marks of affec- 
 tion, which I once believed would be mine, and 
 mine only. Nay, was perhaps, at that moment 
 repeating to her my indelicate, my inexcusable 
 conduct. 
 
 When had he married, and how had it 
 occurred, that the intelligence of his nuptials 
 had not reached my ears ? It was strange ; it 
 was unaccountable ! ! 
 
 Never shall I forget the anguish I endured 
 that night. Sleep deigned not to visit my 
 pillow for even a few brief moments ; and I 
 counted the weary hours as the clock told them, 
 wishing that each might be the last of an exist- 
 ence now rendered hateful to me. 
 
 I arose when day had dawned, and endea-
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 291 
 
 voured, by the application of rose water, to 
 remove from my eyes the redness occasioned by 
 weeping. My temples throbbed with pain, and 
 my limbs ached ; yet, though severely suffering 
 from indisposition, I could still think of guard- 
 ing appearances ; and before my maid had en- 
 tered my chamber, I had succeeded in amelio- 
 rating, if not in effacing the symptoms of my 
 grief, sufficiently to make the old excuse of " a 
 severe headache" explain the cause of my altered 
 looks. 
 
 " There has been a new married couple in 
 the house, last night, my lady," said my femme 
 de chambre, with that craving desire to commu- 
 nicate intelligence peculiar to her class. " The 
 Marquis of Clydesdale and his bride. They 
 were married yesterday morning, your ladyship ; 
 and are on their road to one of his lordship's 
 fine country seats. The bride is a great beauty, 
 and is daughter to the Duke of Biggleswade. I 
 knew the lady's maid in my last place, and she 
 
 o2
 
 292 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 told me all about it after her ladyship had gone 
 to bed." 
 
 I dismissed Mrs. Tomlinson for a cup of 
 strong coffee, anxious to abridge her communi- 
 cations, every word of which inflicted a fresh 
 pang; and trembling lest she should prate of 
 the love of the happy couple, which I had not 
 yet acquired sufficient fortitude to hear of, with- 
 out the risk of betraying emotions that might 
 give rise to suspicions of the state of my heart. 
 
 How strange, and oh ! how much to be 
 regretted, was the coincidence of my finding 
 myself in the same house with Lord Clydesdale, 
 and on such an occasion ! Yet this meeting 
 was occasioned wholly by my own obstinacy in 
 resisting the entreaties of my late host and 
 hostess to prolong my stay with them for an- 
 other day. Had I yielded, how much of humi- 
 liation had I been spared ! But it was fated 
 that through life my wilfulness was to draw 
 down its own punishment.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 293 
 
 How was I to act towards Lady Walsinghara ? 
 Should I confess my interview with my ci de- 
 vant lover, and the mortifying position in which 
 I had placed myself, trusting to her affectionate 
 sympathy for an alleviation of the misery I was 
 enduring ? I longed to give a free course to the 
 pent tears, that were every moment struggling 
 to start forth ; and to weep on that gentle bosom 
 which had from early youth so often supported 
 my aching head, when pain or sorrow had 
 assailed me. 
 
 But pride, ungovernable pride, forbade this 
 indulgence ; and dictated a line of conduct 
 which added to my chagrin, by rendering 
 deception, and hypocrisy absolutely necessary. 
 Oh ! the martyrdom of smiling when tears are 
 ready to gush forth ; of talking on indifferent 
 subjects when all thoughts and feelings are con- 
 centrated on a prohibited one ; or of speaking 
 on that one with an assumed carelessness, to sup- 
 port the appearance of which, requires a self- 
 control almost beyond the reach of woman. 
 
 Yet this was the conduct I adopted ; for not
 
 294 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 even to Lady Walsingham, dearly as I knew 
 she loved me, and implicitly as I was aware 
 that I might confide in her, could my pride 
 permit me to relate the truth ; however soothing 
 might be the tender sympathy, it could not fail to 
 awaken. No ! I would affect a perfect indiffer- 
 ence on the subject of Lord Clydesdale's mar- 
 riage ; and whatever the effort might cost me, 
 no human being should discover the agony I 
 was enduring. It is thus that our own defects, 
 and there is not a more pernicious one in its 
 consequences than pride, adds new stings to the 
 misfortunes that assail us. Disappointment 
 loses half its bitterness when it is confided to 
 some affectionate friend who listens with sym- 
 pathy, and who shares if she cannot alleviate the 
 sting. Yet of this consolation did I deprive 
 myself, urged by that indomitable pride that 
 had so often led me astray ; and which was the 
 severest avenger of the follies it had occasioned, by 
 rendering me still more deeply conscious of 
 their humiliating effects. 
 
 When I met Lady Walsingham at breakfast,
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 295 
 
 no word of hers indicated her knowledge that 
 Lord and Lady Clydesdale had sojourned 
 beneath the same roof with us the night be- 
 fore; that they were in fact still beneath it. 
 I had risen much earlier than my accustomed 
 hour, anxious to quit the inn before those I so 
 much wished to avoid had left their chamber. 
 But my evil destiny still pursued me ; for, while 
 Lady Walsingham and I stood at the window 
 impatiently waiting to hear our travelling car- 
 riage announced, that of Lord Clydesdale drove 
 up to the door to receive its owners. To with- 
 draw from the window, would be to expose my 
 secret feelings to Lady Walsingham ; and there- 
 fore I stood, with the semblance of calmness, 
 though my very heart throbbed with intense 
 pain. She made some excuse for absenting 
 herself from the room, and I thanked her for 
 this delicate attention ; though I feared it indi- 
 cated a knowledge of my weakness that I had 
 hoped she had not acquired. I was, conse- 
 quently, left alone, and determined whatever
 
 296 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 pain the effort might cost me, to behold the 
 wife of him, to whom / had hoped to have 
 stood in that near and dear relation. I waited 
 not long, for in a few minutes the bridegroom 
 led forth his bride, and assisted her to ascend 
 the carriage. There was an affectionate solici- 
 tude apparent in the performance of even this 
 trivial action, that indicated a more than ordi- 
 nary tenderness, and therefore inflicted an 
 acute pang on my heart. There was a time 
 when / was the object of similar attentions from 
 him; attentions performed with an earnestness 
 of affection more flattering to her who received 
 them, than all that mere gallantry ever sug- 
 gested. 
 
 The person of Lady Clydesdale was tall and 
 graceful, and her face, of which, when she was 
 seated in the carriage I had a full view, was 
 one of the most beautiful I had ever beheld. 
 Its surpassing loveliness too well explained why 
 mine was forgotten; and as I gazed on it for 
 the few minutes that intervened ere the servants
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 297 
 
 were ready to start, I fancied that I might have 
 better borne his marriage had the object of his 
 selection been less beautiful. Yet perhaps it 
 was well for me that her loveliness had made 
 such a forcible impression on my mind; for 
 from the moment I had beheld her, I never 
 could think of him without associating her 
 image with his. Hence, by slow degrees I 
 learned to repress the painful recollection of 
 my unhappy disclosure ; but not until many a 
 bitter thought and sleepless night had expiated 
 my folly. 
 
 Lady Walsingham never recurred to the sub- 
 ject ; and I, though anxious to display my 
 affected indifference by conversing on it with 
 nonchalance, had not resolution sufficient to 
 name it. Her affectionate attentions to me 
 seemed to increase daily, and strange to say, 
 not unfrequently occasioned me more of pain 
 than pleasure, as I fancied they originated in 
 the pity excited by the contrast of our respective 
 prospects. 
 
 o3
 
 298 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 On arriving at Walsingham Castle, the 
 neighbouring nobility and gentry again flocked 
 to visit me. Among them was one, whom at 
 my former sejour in the country I had not seen, 
 though his name was frequently mentioned. Lord 
 Wyndermere was then on the continent; and 
 was represented to me as a man of great personal 
 attractions and accomplishments, with a highly 
 cultivated mind. His father had been so ex- 
 travagant as to leave his estate heavily incum- 
 bered at his death ; and his successor's income 
 was represented as being totally inadequate to 
 the support of his rank and station. 
 
 As a boy, Lord Wyndermere had been much 
 beloved in the neighbourhood, and was now 
 
 always spoken of with respect and regard. He 
 
 * 
 
 had only lately returned to Wyndermere Abbey, 
 a fine old seat about twenty miles distant from 
 mine, where he was residing with a very limited 
 establishment; but his society was universally 
 sought and appreciated in the circle in which 
 I lived.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 299 
 
 We soon met ; and I found that report had 
 not exaggerated his merits. A t hough tfulness 
 of manner amounting almost to pensiveness, dis- 
 tinguished him from the common herd of young 
 men, whose frivolity and gaiety never appeared 
 to greater disadvantage than when contrasted 
 with his mild seriousness. This gravity, so un- 
 usual at his age, was generally attributed to the 
 straitened circumstances in which he found him- 
 self placed ; and it served to increase the interest 
 he excited. His poverty, and the dignified 
 equanimity with which it was borne, was a pass- 
 port to my favour ; which was the more readily 
 yielded to him, from his making no effort to ac- 
 quire it. 
 
 He was polite to all ; but there was a reserve 
 in his very politeness that precluded familiarity ; 
 and to me, he was less attentive though always 
 scrupulously well bred than to any other of the 
 ladies who formed our society. I am fully per- 
 suaded, that had Lord Wyndermere possessed 
 affluence, he would have only created a common-
 
 300 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 place sentiment of good will in my mind : 
 but his high birth and scanty means awakened 
 a thousand of those romantic and commiserating 
 thoughts and feelings peculiar to women, which 
 generally terminate in the creation of a warm in- 
 terest in their minds at least, if not in their hearts. 
 I often detected him gazing on me, and 
 observed, that on such occasions, he seemed 
 embarrassed, and avoided looking at me again 
 for some time. Though I was ready to admit 
 the superiority of Lord Wyndermere over most 
 part of the men of my acquaintance, I never- 
 theless considered him immeasurably inferior to 
 Lord Clydesdale ; and the consciousness of this 
 inferiority, which never forsook me, precluded 
 me from entertaining any warmer sentiments 
 towards him, than esteem and pity. Notwith- 
 standing my indifference, after a month or two 
 had elapsed, during which period we frequently 
 met, I began to be piqued as well as surprised, 
 at discovering that he was more assiduous to any 
 or every woman of our circle than to myself.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 301 
 
 His attentions to them, however, never exceeded 
 that polite gallantry so universally adopted by 
 all gentlemen at that period; still, to me, he 
 was more cold, more ceremonious, and avoided, 
 rather than sought occasions for conversing with 
 me. Yet when I have been talking to others 
 I have remarked, with a truly feminine vigil- 
 ance, that he invariably ceased speaking, and 
 listened with a deep interest. This incon- 
 sistency of behaviour aroused a certain degree 
 of curiosity in my mind ; and that woman is 
 in danger in whom this sentiment is awakened. 
 Pity and curiosity are said to be exclusive attri- 
 butes of the female character ; the first I do 
 believe to be a distinctive feature ; but the 
 second, and less amiable quality, appertains 
 equally to both sexes. I will leave to casuists 
 to determine which of the two sexes are the 
 more entirely influenced by it, while I acknow- 
 ledge that I was governed by both at this epoch ; 
 even though the wound inflicted on my peace
 
 30'2 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 by the late death-blow to its long cherished 
 hopes, still bled and rankled. 
 
 Lord Westonville now came to claim his 
 bride, and for die first time of my life, I found 
 myself de trop> though in my own house. His 
 brief separation from the object of his affection 
 served to increase his passion for her. He had 
 eyes only for her, was never happy when she 
 was not present ; and notwithstanding his good 
 breeding, it was obvious, that the presence of a 
 third person was by no means agreeable to him. 
 He was anxious that the honey moon should be 
 passed tete-a-tete ; but how was this natural wish 
 to be accomplished without leaving me unpro- 
 tected ? an indecorum not to be tolerated in the 
 good old times of etiquette and propriety to 
 which I refer. 
 
 I quickly discovered, by various nameless 
 trifles, all that was passing in the mind of my 
 stepmother's future husband ; and the discovery 
 awakened serious reflections in my breast. If
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 303 
 
 I thus felt the annoyance of being de trap in my 
 own house, how much more unbearable would 
 it become when I found myself in his ; and yet 
 to dwell without a chaperon was impossible. 
 The few female relatives who might have filled 
 this onerous office towards me, were all too 
 personally disagreeable to me, to admit of my 
 submitting to their society. 
 
 What therefore was I to do, or where bestow 
 my person for even a few weeks, while ma belle 
 mere was enacting the part of bride? I was 
 positively humiliated, as all these peurile annoy- 
 ances presented themselves to my imagination : 
 my dependent position galled my vanity, and 
 led to some sober reflections on the advantages 
 of a wedded life, which precluded the necessity 
 of chaperons. Sincere and warm as was my 
 attachment to Lady Walsingham, I could not 
 at all tolerate the idea of forming a tiers in her 
 future domestic circle, with the consciousness 
 that my presence would be an irksome restraint 
 on her lord. Then to find myself always a
 
 304 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 secondary object, a continual witness to the 
 homages offered to another. No ! it was not 
 to be borne ; and I almost " wished that hea- 
 ven had made me such a man." Yet not 
 exactly quite such a man; but in short some 
 convenable parti, whose presence would relieve 
 me from all necessity of chaperons ; and whose 
 devoted attentions would convince me, that I 
 too might be worshipped in my own temple. 
 
 While making these reflections, shall I confess 
 that the handsome but serious face of Lord 
 Wyndermere more than once occurred to my 
 mind. He would not have been an unsuitable 
 husband ; for though poor, he, it was quite evi- 
 dent, was no fortune hunter; and his family 
 was as ancient and noble as my own. It would 
 have been very desirable also, to prove to those 
 in general, who might suspect my former 
 attachment to Lord Clydesdale, and to that 
 individual himself in particular, that it never 
 could have been of a serious character, by my 
 so speedily following his example in marrying.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 305 
 
 But it was useless for me to think of this subject, 
 as it was quite obvious Lord Wyndermere had 
 never bestowed a thought upon it. Neverthe- 
 less, I did think of it occasionally, and especially 
 when the sighs and whispers of the doting Lord 
 Westonville reminded me that my presence in- 
 terrupted the impassioned eloquence of his con- 
 versation to his future bride. 
 
 One of the nearest of my neighbours was a 
 very handsome widow, a Mrs. Temple Clarendon, 
 remarkable for the fascination of her manners, 
 and the exemplary propriety of her conduct. 
 Left a widow at twenty-two, with an enormous 
 jointure, the whole of which was to be forfeited 
 in case of her contracting a second marriage, 
 she, now in the fourth year of her widowhood, 
 appeared to have renounced all thoughts of ma- 
 trimony, and was but lately returned from the 
 Continent, where she had spent three years. I 
 quickly formed an intimacy with this lady : con- 
 genial tastes and habits cemented it into friend- 
 ship, and I considered it as peculiarly fortunate,
 
 306 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 when, having confided to her my embarrassment 
 with regard to accompanying ma belle mere on 
 her honeymoon expedition, she obviated the dif- 
 ficulty by kindly and warmly soliciting me to 
 take up my abode with her during the absence 
 of the future Lady Westonville. 
 
 I yielded a ready assent Lord Westonville 
 looked as if he thought the plan an admirable 
 one, though he feebly uttered something about 
 regretting the loss of my society; and Lady 
 Walsingham, though really loth to be separated 
 from me, acceded to a project that seemed to 
 afford me so much satisfaction. 
 
 The nuptials took place a few days after. The 
 same number of white favours, and the same 
 quantity of bride-cake, were distributed, as is 
 customary on such occasions ; the same splendid 
 dejeuner was partaken of, and the quantum of 
 tears shed. When this established portion of the 
 performance had been exhibited, the whole was 
 orthodoxly concluded by a new and tasteful 
 equipage, with postillions and outriders decked
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 307 
 
 with wedding favours, whirling the bride and 
 bridegroom from the door. 
 
 I could not see her, who had been my kind 
 and attached companion for so many years, de- 
 part without deep regret. It brought back to 
 me the recollection of the days of my youth, and 
 of that fond father who was in the grave. But 
 Mrs. Temple Clarendon, who was present, soon 
 cheered me by her attentions ; and, by the time 
 we had reached her dwelling, my spirits were 
 restored to their wonted tone. 
 
 The next day, we dined at a neighbouring 
 nobleman's, and there we met Lord Wyndermere, 
 and, to my no slight annoyance, Sir Augustus 
 Fauconberg, the friend of Lord Clydesdale ; he 
 whose disclosure of the motive of his friend's ab- 
 sence on the anniversary of the death of his first 
 love, had led to our separation. He was asso- 
 ciated in my mind with one of the most painful 
 events of my life, an event which he, in a great 
 measure, caused ; and, therefore, I disliked him. 
 To this objection to meeting him again was added
 
 308 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the fear that he might disclose my former en- 
 gagement to Lord Clydesdale ; every reference 
 to which I detested ever since he had become 
 the husband of another. I soon found that Mrs. 
 Temple Clarendon was an old acquaintance of 
 his ; Lord Wyndermere also had met him on the 
 Continent; and I felt any thing but gratified when 
 I heard her engage both gentlemen to meet a 
 party at her house the ensuing day. 
 
 During the evening I accompanied the Ladies 
 Percival, the daughters of our host, into a 
 conservatory that communicated with the suite 
 of drawing-rooms, and into which the windows 
 of several of them opened. While admiring 
 some rare plants on the pyramidal stand, which 
 completely concealed me from those in the 
 drawing-room, I heard Sir Augustus Fauconberg 
 observe to Lord Wyndermere, that I seemed to 
 have quite surmounted my attachment for Lord 
 Clydesdale. Curiosity rivetted me to the spot ; 
 and, luckily, my companions were too far distant 
 to hear what was passing.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 309 
 
 " Is it possible that Lady Arabella Walsing- 
 ham ever could have loved in vain ?" exclaimed 
 Lord Wyndermere. 
 
 " Why, not exactly that," replied Fauconberg, 
 and I hated him from that moment, " Clydes- 
 dale was very much in love with her, and they 
 were on the point of being married ; that is, they 
 were affianced, and all that sort of thing. But 
 she took it into her imperious little head, (and 
 I can assure you a devilish proud head it is), 
 that because he had once loved before, and still 
 retained a mournful recollection of her he had 
 loved, she, forsooth, was ill-used; and so, (can 
 you believe such folly?) she wrote a haughty 
 letter to poor Clydesdale, commanding him to 
 see her no more. You have no idea how long 
 and severely he suffered from this capricious 
 conduct of hers ; for he was really attached to 
 her, and she too, I fancy, liked him extremely." 
 
 What were my feelings at hearing this ! 
 
 " How any man that Lady Arabella had once 
 honoured with her preference could think of,
 
 310 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 much less bestow his hand on another, appears 
 to me almost incredible ; for she is a woman that 
 once seen, can never be forgotten," said Lord 
 Wyndermere. 
 
 " Hang me, if you are not a little smitten 
 yourself," replied Fauconberg. " Why not en- 
 deavour to render the sentiment reciprocal? 
 With her vast fortune, and your encumbered 
 one, it would be the very wisest plan in the 
 world." 
 
 I was all ear, and listened with intense anxiety 
 to this discourse. 
 
 " It is precisely because she has a vast fortune, 
 and I an encumbered one, that I must never 
 think of her. I am too proud to become a suitor 
 to the heiress, though I could worship the woman, 
 and" 
 
 Here the Ladies Percival approached ; and, 
 fearful that they might discover that I had been 
 an eaves-dropper, I quietly joined them, and 
 sauntered towards another part of the conser- 
 vatory.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 311 
 
 This overheard conversation made a deep 
 impression on me. Now was the reserve of Lord 
 Wyndermere explained, and explained in a 
 
 manner most flattering to my vanity, and credit- 
 
 i 
 
 able to his feelings. What pride and delicacy 
 did his sentiments evince ! Handsome and 
 agreeable as I had hitherto considered him, he 
 was now invested with fresh attractions in my 
 mind ; and I felt elated at the conquest I had 
 achieved. Yes, his was indeed a heart worth 
 captivating; he could not even imagine that / 
 could love in vain, nor believe that a person once 
 preferred by me could ever think of another. 
 
 These two concise and simple sentences con- 
 tained a compliment more gratifying to my 
 amour propre than all the eulogiums that ever 
 had been poured into my ear ; and what woman 
 forgets, or remains indifferent to the man, who 
 considers her irresistible ? 
 
 Anxious to disprove the assertion of my former 
 attachment to Lord Clydesdale, I now assumed 
 a more than ordinary gaiety. I referred with an
 
 312 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 air of perfect indifference to past scenes in 
 Italy; had even resolution enough to name Lord 
 Clydesdale, and spoke of his marriage, as if he 
 had never stood in any other relation to me than 
 a mere common acquaintance. I stole a glance 
 at Lord Wyndermere, to observe what effect 
 this seeming indifference had on him ; and was 
 gratified by remarking that his countenance 
 betrayed a more than usual expression of satis- 
 faction. 
 
 From this evening, I found myself continually 
 in the society of my new admirer. Invited to 
 the same houses, we were drawn together without 
 either of us having the air of seeking any inter- 
 course. By degrees, his reserve wore away, and 
 his looks and manner assumed more of softness 
 and tenderness towards me. Still, no word of 
 love was breathed ; and I, to say the truth, began 
 to fear his objections to an heiress were indeed 
 insurmountable. It was not that I loved, or even 
 fancied that I loved him ; for the depth and 
 force of my former unhappy attachment had been
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 313 
 
 such as to convince me I should never love again. 
 But the peculiarity of my position, and my dis- 
 like to finding myself en tiers with Lord and Lady 
 Westonville, led me to think with complacency 
 of avoiding such a dilemma by rewarding the 
 romantic and disinterested affection of Lord 
 Wyndermere with my hand and fortune. 
 
 Affairs stood in this position, when the absence 
 of the new married couple, which, from the 
 arranged four weeks of its duration, had grown 
 into twice that length of time, was drawing to a 
 close: and I was thinking, with no pleasurable 
 feelings, of enacting the part of witness to their 
 connubial felicity, when Mrs. Temple Clarendon 
 asked me whether I had observed how much 
 smitten with me poor Lord Wyndermere was. 
 I affected to doubt the truth of the statement ; 
 and remarked that a man in love was not likely 
 to be so reserved and distant with the object of it. 
 
 This led to an animated declaration on her 
 part that she had been aware of his violent and 
 hopeless passion from its commencement, which 
 
 p
 
 314 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 dated from the day he beheld me for the first 
 time. She eloquently painted his despair at 
 feeling an attachment which, from the difference 
 in our fortunes, must be a hopeless one; but 
 which, nevertheless, would terminate but with 
 his existence. His pride and delicacy opposed 
 obstacles to his avowal of his feelings, which a 
 belief that they were not repugnant to me could 
 alone overcome; and she entreated, nay, implored 
 that I would authorise her, who was the sincere 
 and disinterested friend of both Lord Wynder- 
 mere and myself, to give him to understand that 
 he was not disagreeable to me. The warmth 
 and earnestness of her pleading won on me ; and, 
 aided by the insidious foe within my breast, 
 vanity, led me to believe all that she asserted. 
 She particularly dwelt on the circumstance of 
 Lord Wyndermere's having hitherto never felt 
 the influence of the tender passion, a circum- 
 stance, above all others, the most calculated to 
 gratify my fastidious and jealously disposed 
 mind ; and, as memory reverted to the pangs I
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 315 
 
 had formerly endured from the knowledge of 
 my former suitor's prior attachment, I reflected 
 with complacency that in the present instance 
 no such painful reminiscences could ever wound 
 me. I should be the only idol ever worshipped 
 in the shrine of his heart, that heart which 
 proved its delicacy and refinement by having so 
 long resisted all the blandishments of female 
 attractions, reserving itself for me, and me 
 alone ! 
 
 The consequence of these reflections was, that 
 I suffered Mrs. Temple Clarendon to whisper 
 hope to her friend ; and, in a few minutes after 
 he was at my met. But, though he breathed 
 vows, whose fervour were well calculated to 
 establish in my mind the conviction of his love, 
 he left me in doubt whether his pride did not 
 still oppose an insuperable barrier to our union. 
 He described the humiliating position of a man 
 dependent on a wife, and always subject to the 
 mortifying, the degrading suspicion, of having 
 been influenced to marry her by mercenary 
 
 P2
 
 316 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 motives. So eloquently and feelingly did he 
 speak on this subject, that it required no in- 
 considerable encouragement on my part to 
 reconcile him to the idea ; for, won by the pas- 
 sionate ardour of his manner, I was, or fancied 
 myself, touched by something approaching to 
 a sympathy with his sentiments. 
 
 In short, when Mrs. Temple Clarendon joined 
 the conference, and urged that, although an 
 heiress, my attractions were too prominent to 
 admit a doubt of their being the whole and sole 
 charm in a lover's eyes, Lord Wyndermere's 
 scruples were vanquished ; and I consented to 
 receive him as my accepted suitor. He was all 
 gratitude and rapture ; and / indulged in that 
 self-complacency peculiar to vain people, when 
 their amour propre has been gratified, and their 
 pride flattered by conferring an obligation. 
 
 I returned to Walsingham Castle in time to 
 receive Lord and Lady Westonville ; who, all 
 smiles and happiness, offered a perfect picture of 
 conjugal felicity. Never had two months pro-
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 317 
 
 duced a more complete metamorphosis on any 
 human being, than in ma belle mere. The object 
 of unceasing attention and doting love, her pre- 
 sence conferring delight on her husband, and 
 her slightest wish a law, she had acquired a 
 cheerfulness and self confidence that lent her 
 new charms, without having lost any of that 
 winning gentleness which had always charac- 
 terised her. 
 
 When, during the very first evening of our 
 meeting, I observed the all-engrossing attention 
 she excited, and the evident gne and constraint 
 my presence imposed on her husband, I inwardly 
 rejoiced that in a short time her chaperonage 
 would no longer be required. She also, sincerely 
 as she was attached to me, had, during our 
 separation, learned too well, to appreciate the 
 comforts of a home where she alone was wor- 
 shipped, not to experience a restraint at the pro- 
 spect of becoming a permanent guest in mine. 
 
 This state of their feelings, though both of 
 them endeavoured to conceal it, was thoroughly
 
 318 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 visible to my keen perception ; and I anticipated 
 the satisfaction with which they would hail their 
 freedom from the wearying thraldom of chape- 
 ronage. I was not disappointed. They listened 
 to my avowal of my engagement with evident 
 pleasure, approved my choice ; and we all three 
 appeared to become more attached to each other, 
 in the anticipation of our mutual release. 
 
 The next day brought Mrs. Temple Cla- 
 rendon, intent on the momentous business of 
 marriage settlements. She had many suggestions 
 to offer, all based on the absolute necessity of 
 taking measures to avoid wounding the pride 
 and delicacy of Lord Wyndermere's sentiments. 
 His poverty, she said, rendered him so susceptible, 
 that / must place him in a state of perfect inde- 
 pendence; and that, without consultation or 
 reference to him. I was as ready to act on this 
 suggestion as she was to offer it ; but I had only 
 a life interest in my estates, they being strictly 
 entailed on any children I might have. The 
 personal property I was at liberty to bequeath ;
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 319 
 
 and I determined on placing it at his disposal. 
 My guardians offered many objections to this 
 scheme, but I was resolute; and the more so, 
 from observing the perfect disinterestedness of 
 my future husband. To be sure, had he even 
 been disposed to study his own interest, he never 
 could have more effectually taken care of it than 
 by trusting to our mutual friend, Mrs. Temple 
 Clarendon; who was indefatigable in her exer- 
 tions and counsel on this subject. 
 
 In due time, the law's delays having been 
 abridged of half their tediousness, by the per- 
 severing endeavours of Mrs. Temple Clarendon, 
 I was led to the hymeneal altar, nothing loth ; 
 but with no warmer sentiment towards him on 
 whom I bestowed my hand and fortune, than an 
 admiration of his personal attractions and a sense 
 of gratitude for his devoted attachment. 
 
 Months rolled on, his attention to me unre- 
 mitting, and my affection to him daily increasing, 
 awakened into life by the constant and impas- 
 sioned demonstrations of his. I was now in that
 
 320 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 state in which ladies are said to " wish to be who 
 love their lords;" and I looked forward with 
 feelings of new delight to the prospect of be- 
 coming a mother : when, one day, Lord Wyn- 
 dermere, in returning from his accustomed ride, 
 was thrown from his horse, brought home sense- 
 less, and expired in a few hours. 
 
 I will not dwell on the affliction into which 
 this sad event plunged me. For many weeks 
 my life was in imminent danger : and the hope 
 of maternity deserted me, now when such a 
 blessing alone could have consoled me for the 
 bereavement I had sustained. 
 
 Those who have lost a husband, ere he had 
 ceased to be a lover, ere a frown had ever 
 curved his brow, or a harsh word escaped his 
 lips, can alone imagine the grief and desolation 
 of my heart at this calamity. The very cir- 
 cumstance of my belief in the passionate fervour 
 of his love, and the consciousness that mine was 
 of a much less warm character, being in fact only 
 an affectionate friendship founded on a grateful
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 321 
 
 sense of his devotion tome, added to the poignancy 
 of my regret. I reproached myself for having 
 previously to my acquaintance with him, ex- 
 hausted the energies of my heart in an attach- 
 ment to another, while he had reserved all the 
 warmth of his for me. The soothing attentions 
 of Lady Westonville, who, with her lord, had 
 flown to me the moment that intelligence of 
 my bereavement had reached her, were ineffec- 
 tually used to console me. I encouraged rather 
 than attempted to subdue my grief; for an 
 oblivion of it appeared to me nothing short of 
 an insult to the memory of the dead. How I 
 wished to have Mrs. Temple Clarendon with 
 me ; she, who so highly esteemed the dear de- 
 parted, could better sympathize with my regret 
 than Lady Westonville, who had seen too little 
 of him to be aware of his merits. But unfor- 
 tunately, Mrs. Temple Clarendon was absent 
 from England; having made an excursion to 
 the south of France two months before for the 
 
 P3
 
 322 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 benefit of her health, which had lately been in 
 a declining state. 
 
 I used to take a melancholy pleasure, when 
 again able to leave my chamber, in sitting for 
 hours in the dressing room of my lost husband, 
 in which I had ordered every thing appertaining 
 to his toilette and wardrobe to be left as when 
 he inhabited it. The books he had preserved 
 and marked, the unfinished letters on his table 
 were now become dear and precious mementos 
 of him in my eyes. Why was I so unfortunate 
 as to be deprived of this consolation, melan- 
 choly though it was ? and why did my evil stars 
 conduct me to a discovery that banished all soft 
 regrets, and rendered me for the rest of my 
 existence, cold, suspicious, and unloving ? 
 
 In an unlucky hour, my heart still filled with 
 fond remembrances of my husband, it occurred to 
 me to open his escritoir, the key of which hung 
 to the chain of his watch, which now always 
 rested on my table as a sacred relic. Its drawers
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 323 
 
 contained only a few letters of little interest 
 from friends ; and the billets I had written to 
 him during the epoch that intervened from my 
 acceptance of him to our marriage. I bedewed 
 them with my tears, as I marked how carefully 
 he had arranged and treasured them; and my 
 regret was renewed by this little proof of affec- 
 tion. In replacing them a burst of weeping led 
 me to incline my head on both arms on the 
 desk part of the escritoire ; and in the action, I 
 involuntarily pressed a secret spring, which flew 
 open, and discovered a cavity in which were 
 many letters and a large gold medallion. 
 
 An indescribable presentiment of evil seized 
 me at the sight; and I almost determined on 
 closing the escritoir, and never to examine the 
 contents of the secret cavity. Would that I 
 had persevered in this resolution ! but curiosity, 
 or a stronger motive prevailed, and I opened 
 the medallion. 
 
 Never shall I forget the feeling of that moment, 
 when the portrait of Mrs. Temple Clarendon,
 
 324 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 a most striking resemblance, met my astonished 
 gaze. No doubt of the relation in which the 
 original of the picture stood to him, to whom 
 such a gift was made, could exist ; for a long 
 lock of hair, and an Italian inscription of the 
 warmest nature but too clearly explained it. 
 
 The medallion fell from my trembling hands, 
 and my eyes involuntarily closed as if to shut 
 out the sight that had thrust daggers to my 
 heart. I shook with the violence of my 
 emotions, as my tortured brain recalled a thou- 
 sand circumstances, received by me as proofs 
 of an honorable friendship between my husband 
 and Mrs. Temple Clarendon, but to which the 
 portrait and its indelicate inscription now lent 
 a totally different colouring. 
 
 So then, I was their dupe ! their weak and 
 credulous dupe ! and all my fond dreams of love 
 and friendship were destroyed for ever ! Anger, 
 violent and powerless anger, arose like a whir 1 
 wind in my breast, blighting and searing every 
 soft and womanly feeling, and replacing the
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 325 
 
 tender sorrow that so lately usurped my thought, 
 by a jealous and impotent rage, that would have 
 fain called up the dead from his everlasting 
 sleep, to wreak on him some mighty vengeance. 
 Burning tears of passion chaced the soft ones 
 of grief from my eyes. I vowed to punish the 
 false and vicious woman whose dupe I had been, 
 by a public exposure of her shame ; and I was 
 almost tempted to imprecate curses on the 
 memory of him, whose death I had so lately 
 mourned with anguish. The perusal of the 
 letters nearly maddened me, for the whole 
 nefarious plot was revealed in them. Lord 
 Wyndermere had long been the lover of Mrs. 
 Temple Clarendon ; but as the unhallowed liaison 
 had taken place on the Continent, and appear- 
 ances were strictly guarded between them, it had 
 never been talked of in England. When it 
 first occurred, it was his intention to have 
 married her, and with her large fortune repair 
 his decayed one ; but on discovering the clause 
 by which, in case of her forming a second ma-
 
 326 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 trimonial alliance, she was to forfeit her wealth, 
 he abandoned all thought of adopting this 
 course; especially as she was as little desirous 
 as himself to forge chains that would reduce her 
 from splendour, to comparative indigence. She 
 knew my wealth, had heard of the weakness 
 and vanity of my character, and as their pas- 
 sion was no longer in its first wild hey-day 
 they agreed to return to England and concoct 
 a plan to catch the heiress. How well they had 
 succeeded, my marriage, and the lavish gene- 
 rosity I displayed towards my disinterested hus- 
 band, has proved. Oh ! how I loathed them, and 
 despised myself, as with burning cheeks, throb- 
 bing temples, and tortured heart, I perused 
 the details of their artifice and guilt. 
 
 O 
 
 " I give you great credit," wrote this shame- 
 less woman, " for your ready tact in taking 
 advantage of Lady Arabella's approach in the 
 conservatory, when you were conversing with 
 Mr. Fauconberg. The few sentences you uttered 
 on that occasion, will lay the foundation of the
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 327 
 
 superstructure I mean to erect. Such are her 
 vanity and folly, that it only requires a tenth 
 part of the address we possess, to secure her, and 
 her fortune. You must enact the silent, despair- 
 ing, but adoring lover, for a short time, and 
 success will inevitably crown our efforts. After 
 all she is handsome, and not a greater fool than 
 nine-tenths of the girls of her age; therefore, 
 you are not so much to be pitied as you would 
 fain have me believe. With regard to pecuniary 
 matters, leave the arrangement of all them to 
 me ; / can suggest what it would appear merce- 
 nary and indelicate in you to propose. Your 
 role is, to affect a most romantic love, and a 
 fierte with regard to fortune, that will, aided 
 by my advice, compel her to display a lavish 
 generosity." 
 
 Each, and all, of the letters, contained similar 
 proofs of dissimulation, and wickedness. The 
 correspondence, subsequently to my ill-fated 
 marriage, was carried on between the guilty 
 pair with even an increased warmth, leaving no
 
 328 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 doubt of their continued criminality ; for the last 
 letter received from this atrocious hypocrite, 
 stated, that he was wrong to blame her for going 
 abroad, as, had she longer remained in England, 
 her increasing shape must have excited sus- 
 picions destructive to that reputation which she 
 had hitherto so successfully preserved free from 
 taint. 
 
 For many months, the rage and indignation 
 to which I was a constant prey, sensibly impaired 
 my health ; and change of air and scene having 
 been prescribed for me, I left England, attended 
 by a numerous suite, and passed many years in 
 visiting Germany, Italy, and Sicily. My in- 
 vincible dislike to encountering Mrs. Temple 
 Clarendon, prevented me from returning to 
 Walsingham Castle; for, although I had long 
 abandoned all thoughts of making her conduct 
 known, I felt that I could not meet her without 
 betraying my contempt and dislike. 
 
 I kept up a constant correspondence with 
 Lady Westonville, who became the mother of a
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 329 
 
 large family, all of whom she lived long enough 
 to see happily established : and when, after twenty 
 years' absence from my native land, I returned to 
 its shores, I experienced from her the same 
 affectionate friendship that had ever characterised 
 her conduct to me. 
 
 The death of Mrs. Temple Clarendon re- 
 moved my principal objection to returning to 
 Walsingham Castle. She died, as she had lived, 
 maintaining, until the last, a hypocritical de- 
 corum, that served to conceal her vices. She 
 bequeathed a considerable fortune to a young 
 French lady, whom she had, some twenty years 
 before, adopted ; and whom she represented as 
 the orphan daughter of a dear friend in the 
 South of France ; but whose remarkable resem- 
 blance to Lord Wyndermere and herself, left no 
 doubt, on my mind at least, of the relation in 
 which she had stood to her. 
 
 Never shall I forget the feelings I experienced 
 when, after an absence of above twenty years, I 
 returned to Walsingham Castle; no longer the
 
 330 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 young and blooming creature that had left it, 
 but the staid, sober, and faded woman of forty- 
 five ; retaining, alas ! many of the faults of my 
 youth, but none of its elasticity of spirits or 
 hopes. 
 
 I had not passed so many years of my life 
 without receiving several matrimonial overtures, 
 but they had all been imperiously rejected ; for 
 the deceptive conduct of Lord Wyndermere 
 had rendered me too suspicious, ever again to 
 expose myself to the chance of similar treatment. 
 
 And yet my heart still yearned for something 
 to love ; some object to lean upon in my descent 
 to old age, that period in which woman most 
 needs the support of affection. But if, in the 
 bloom of youth and beauty, I had been sought 
 only for my fortune, how could I hope, as these 
 advantages were fast disappearing, that I could 
 ever inspire the sentiment so essential to happi- 
 ness ? Each year, as its flight stole away some 
 personal attraction, rendered me still more sus- 
 picious of the professions of regard made to me ;
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 331 
 
 hence, I closed my heart to any new attachment, 
 though that heart pined for the blessing of sym- 
 pathy and affection. 
 
 It was a lovely summer's evening when I 
 arrived at Walsingham Castle. A crowd of 
 aged domestics and retainers pressed forward, to 
 welcome me; and the whole scene so exactly 
 resembled that which was presented to me when, 
 nearly a quarter of a century before, I first visited 
 the lovely spot, that I could almost fancy not more 
 than a year had elapsed since I last beheld it. 
 The beauty of the scene, and the joy of those 
 who welcomed me, encouraged the illusion. My 
 heart felt lighter than for long years it had been 
 wont to do; my step became more elastic, as 
 I again paced the halls of my paternal man- 
 sion, and as I gazed on the well-known objects 
 around, now tinged by the glowing and golden 
 beams of the setting sun, some portion of my 
 youth and its hopes seemed restored to me. 
 
 I ascended to my chamber with nimbler feet 
 than I had long known ; and threw myself into
 
 332 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 a bergere, delighted to find myself again in my 
 ancestral home. The hangings, the tasteful 
 and elegant furniture, and ornaments of my 
 luxurious suite of apartments, had been kept 
 carefully covered ; and now looked as well as in 
 their pristine freshness. All appeared so exactly 
 as I had left it, that I was tempted to doubt the 
 possibility that four-and-twenty years had indeed 
 elapsed since I had last beheld it. 
 
 I removed my bonnet and cloak; and ap- 
 proached the mirror to arrange my cap, that 
 mirror in which I had so often, with pride and 
 pleasure, contemplated my own image, an 
 image which was still vividly fresh in my recol- 
 lection. But when my eyes fell on the one it now 
 reflected, I drew back affrighted, and all the 
 consciousness of my altered face for the first 
 time seemed suddenly to burst upon me. Tears 
 fell from my eyes yes, weak and foolish as it 
 now appears to me, I wept for my departed youth ; 
 and for that beauty of which the faithful mirror 
 too plainly assured me, no remnant existed.
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 333 
 
 Accustomed to see my face daily, the ravages 
 that time had made on it had never before struck 
 me as now. My feelings had grown cold, as my 
 visage assumed the wrinkles of age ; and hitherto 
 I had scarcely marked the melancholy change 
 in my aspect ; or if I had remarked, it occasioned 
 me little regret. But now, when all around me 
 looking fresh and unchanged as when first be- 
 held, brought back the past vividly before me, 
 renewing for a few brief moments the joyful- 
 ness of youth, I had been insensibly beguiled 
 into expecting to see in the mirror, the same 
 bright face it had formerly reflected. These 
 were the feelings that made the sad alteration 
 in my personal aspect appal me ; and I wondered 
 how it had hitherto caused me so little regret. 
 
 It was long ere I could conquer my repug- 
 nance to look in that glass again; but vanity 
 which had driven me in disgust away, again led 
 me to consult it. It whispered that the greater 
 the change in my face, the greater was the neces- 
 sity for concealing or ameliorating its defects
 
 334 THE CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 by a studious attention to dress. Consequently 
 I now devoted a more than ordinary time to 
 the duties of the toilette ; and in the course of 
 a few months learned to think, that with the 
 aid of a little art judiciously applied, I was still 
 what might be called a fine woman. 
 
 A short time afterwards Lady Percival came 
 to see me: and pressed me to dine at her house. 
 
 " You will meet an old acquaintance," said 
 she, " for Lord Clydesdale is staying with us." 
 
 " Is he alone?" asked I, in trepidation, my 
 foolish heart beating with a quicker pulsation." 
 
 " Yes," replied Lady Percival, " quite alone ; 
 ever since he lost poor dear Lady Clydesdale, 
 he comes to us every year to spend a week or 
 two." 
 
 " What, is Lady Clydesdale dead?" de- 
 manded I, in an agitation that I thought I 
 should never again experience. 
 
 " Is it possible that you did not know it?" 
 answered she calmly. " Why, she has been 
 dead these five years; and his only child, a
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 335 
 
 daughter, has been married above a year to 
 the Duke of Warrenborough. Poor dear Lady 
 Clydesdale was a charming person; do you 
 know, my dear friend, that many people con- 
 sidered her to bear a striking likeness to you. 
 It is very sad and solitary for him to be com- 
 pelled to live alone ; for though no longer young, 
 he is still a very agreeable person." 
 
 How many thoughts and hopes did this com- 
 munication awaken ! He, the only man I 
 had ever really loved, was again free; and a 
 thousand tender recollections of our former 
 attachment floated through my mind, as I 
 reflected on his solitary life so resembling my 
 own. Yes, we might meet, might again feel 
 some portion of that affection which once filled 
 our hearts; and, though in youth, we had been 
 separated, we might now form a union that 
 would enable us to pass our old age together, 
 released from the loneless, cheerless solitude in 
 which we both were placed. 
 Lady Percival observing that I had not accepted
 
 336 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 her invitation, renewed it, adding, " Do pray 
 come, dear Lady Wyndermere ! Lord Clydes- 
 dale will be so disappointed if you do not; I 
 told him I intended to ask you, and he said he 
 should be very glad indeed to see you again." 
 
 This sentence decided my acceptance of her 
 invitation, for it encouraged the fond hopes that 
 were awakened in my breast; and a thousand 
 visions of happy days, past and to come, floated 
 in my imagination. 
 
 From the moment that Lady Percival left 
 me, until the hour, three days after, that saw 
 % me drive up to her door, I thought of nothing, 
 dreamt of nothing, but my interview with Lord 
 Clydesdale. How would he look, how address 
 me, would he betray any agitation ? were ques- 
 tions continually occurring to me. 
 
 Never had I taken more pains with my dress 
 than on that momentous day. One robe was 
 found to be too grave ; and another was thrown 
 aside as not suiting my complexion, half-a-dozen 
 caps and as many turbans were tried, before the
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 337 
 
 one deemed the most becoming was determined 
 on ; and I experienced no little portion of embar- 
 rassment, when I observed the astonishment of my 
 femme de chamlre, at this my unusual fastidious- 
 ness with regard to my toilette. At length, it 
 was completed ; and casting many a lingering 
 glance at my mirror, I flattered myself that few, 
 if any, women of my age could have looked 
 better. If mine was no longer a figure or face 
 to captivate the young and unthinking, it might 
 satisfy the less scrupulous taste of the elderly 
 and reflecting. But above all, he who had seen 
 the temple in its pristine beauty, would not 
 despise it now, though desecrated and ravaged 
 by the hand of time. 
 
 As I reflected on the change wrought on my 
 person by time, that foe to beauty, the thought of 
 how the destroyer's touch might have operated on 
 his occurred to me. Was he very much altered ? 
 But no ! age might have taken from the 
 graceful elasticity of his step, added some of 
 her furrows to his brow, and tinged his dark
 
 338 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 locks with its silvery hue, but it could not have 
 destroyed the noble and distinguished character 
 of his manly beauty ! 
 
 How my heart throbbed as I entered the 
 library of Lord Percival ! I positively felt as if 
 not more than twenty summers had flown over 
 my head ; and dreaded, yet wished to see Lord 
 Clydesdale. After the usual salutations had 
 passed, Lady Percival led me to a large easy 
 chair; reclined in which, with one foot en- 
 veloped in a fleecy stocking, and a velvet shoe 
 that looked large enough for an inhabitant of 
 Brobdignag, was an old man with a rubicund 
 face, a head, the summit of which was bald and 
 shining, graced by a few straggling locks of 
 snowy white. 
 
 " This, dear Lady Wyndermere, is your old 
 acquaintance Lord Clydesdale," whispered Lady 
 Percival. 
 
 I positively shrank back astonished and in- 
 credulous. 
 
 " Ah ! I see you do not recognize me," said
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 339 
 
 the venerable-looking old gentleman before me, 
 holding forth a hand, on each of the fingers of 
 which were unseemly protuberances, ycleped 
 chalk stones. " I am such a martyr to the gout, 
 that I am unable to rise to receive you, but it 
 affords me great pleasure to see your ladyship 
 in such good health." 
 
 I could scarcely collect myself sufficiently to 
 make a suitable reply. All the air-built visions 
 my fancy had formed for the last few days were 
 dashed to the earth, as I contemplated the infirm 
 septagenarian before me, and remembered that 
 he was only some ten or twelve years my senior ; 
 a circumstance which never occurred to me as 
 disadvantageous before- Not a trace of his 
 former personal attractions remained; nay, it 
 would be difficult to believe, judging from his 
 present appearance, that any had ever existed. 
 It gave me, however, some satisfaction, to observe 
 that he seemed surprised at my having pre- 
 served so much of my former comeliness; and 
 I will own, that I was malicious enough, as
 
 340 THE CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Lord Percival led me to the dining room, to 
 which Lord Clydesdale was slowly limping, 
 supported by his valet de chambre and a crutch, 
 to affect a much more than ordinary quickness 
 of pace and agility. 
 
 " And this," thought I, " is the man who 
 has caused me so many sighs, who has inflicted 
 on me days of care, and nights without sleep." 
 
 The thing seemed really preposterous, and I 
 could have smiled at my own illusions ; illusions 
 that might have been indulged even to my last 
 hour, had not one glance at their object dispelled 
 them for ever. 
 
 I took a spiteful pleasure in recounting during 
 dinner, the long walks I affected to be in the 
 daily habit of taking ; and attempted to avenge 
 myself on the unconscious object of my resent- 
 ment, for all the pain he had ever inflicted, by 
 now making him feel the disparity between us. 
 I caught his eye more than once fixed on my 
 face ; and fancied that its expression indicated 
 more of surprise or envy, than of tender remi-
 
 AN ELDERLY LADY. 341 
 
 niscences. Perhaps it was to punish me that he 
 talked with evident pleasure of the delights of 
 being a grandpapa ; the new interest it excited 
 when all others had nearly ceased, and the 
 refuge it afforded against that dreary and love- 
 less solitude to which childless old age was 
 exposed. 
 
 This was the last day of my illusions; or of 
 my being enabled to enact the youthful. 
 
 To diminish the ungraceful expansion of my 
 figure, I had discarded two under draperies, in 
 the shape of quilted silk petticoats. This im- 
 prudent piece of coquetry exposed me to a severe 
 cold ; from the effects of which I never entirely 
 recovered : and I now suffer from a weakness of 
 the limbs, that nearly precludes my moving 
 without assistance. The "childless, loveless" soli- 
 tude to which, alas ! I find myself condemned, 
 frequently reminds me of Lord Clydesdale's 
 remarks on such a fate: and I am forced to 
 admit that time would pass more happily in 
 caressing a race of dear chubby grandchildren,
 
 342 THE CONFESSIONS, ETC. 
 
 than in the vain task of correcting the disagree- 
 able personal habits of my poor Dame de 
 Compagnie. Ay, or than even in committing 
 these Confessions to paper, in the as vain hope 
 of being amused, or of amusing ; in which last 
 disappointment I fear that my readers will only 
 have too much reason to sympathize with me. "" 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED BY IV. WltCOCKSON, ROLLS BUILD/NGS, FETTER LANE.
 
 University of California 
 
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