PRECAUTION. 
 
 1 Ibttd. 
 
 BY J. FEI*-IM*E COOPER. 
 
 "Be wise to-day, tis madness to defer 
 To-morrow s caution may arrive too late." 1 
 
 COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 STRINGER AND TOWNSEND, 
 
 1857. 
 
PRECAUTION. 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, In the year 1852, 
 
 BY STBINGEE & TOWNSENI*, 
 
 u the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 southern District of New York. 
 

 i. C. BRYANT S DISCOURSE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 or 
 
 JAMES FENIMORE COOPER, 
 
 DELIVERED AT METROPOLITAN HALL, N. I., FEBRUARY 25, 1852. 
 
 IT is now somewhat more than a year, since the friends of JAMES 
 FE.NDIORE COOPER, in this city, were planning to give a public 
 dinner to his honor. It was intended as an expression both of 
 the regard they bore him personally, and of the pride they took in 
 the glory his writings had reflected on the American name. We 
 thought of what we should say in his hearing ; in what terms, 
 worthy of him and of us, we should speak of the esteem in which 
 we held him, and of the interest we felt in a fame which had 
 already penetrated to the remotest nook of the earth inhabited by 
 civilized man. 
 
 To-day we assemble for a sadder purpose : to pay to the dead 
 some part of the honors then intended for the living. We bring 
 our offering, but he is not here who should receive it ; in his stead 
 are vacancy and silence; there is no eye to brighten at our words, 
 and no voice to answer. " It is an empty office that we perform," 
 said Virgil, in his melodious verses, when commemorating the 
 virtues of the young Marcellus, and bidding flowers be strewn, 
 with full hands, over his early grave. We might apply the 
 expression to the present occasion, but it would be true in part 
 ouly. We can no longer do anything for him who is departed, 
 but we may do what will not be without fruit to those who 
 remain. It is good to occupy our thoughts with the example of 
 great talents in conjunction with great virtues. His genius has 
 passed away with him ; but we may learn, from the history of his 
 life, to employ the faculties we possess with useful activity and 
 aims ; we may copy his magnanimous frankness, his disdain 
 
LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 of everything that wears the faintest semblance of deceit, his 
 refusal to comply with current abuses, and the courage with 
 which, on all occasions, he asserted what he deemed truth, and 
 combated what he thought error. 
 
 The circumstances of Cooper s early life were remarkably 
 suited to confirm the natural hardihood and manliness of his 
 character, and to call forth and exercise that extraordinary power 
 of observation, which accumulated the materials afterwards 
 wielded and shaped by his genius. His father, while an inhabitant 
 of Burlington, in New Jersey, on the pleasant banks of the 
 Delaware, was the owner of large possessions on the borders ot 
 the Otsego Lake in our own state, and here, in the newly-cleared 
 fields, he built, in 1786, the first house in Cooperstow r n. To this 
 home, Cooper, who was born in Burlington, in the year 1789, was 
 conveyed in his infancy, and here, as he informs us in his preface 
 to the Pioneers, his first impressions of the external world were 
 obtained. Here he passed his childhood, with the vast forest 
 around him, stretching up the mountains that overlook the lake, 
 and far beyond, in a region where the Indian yet roamed, and the 
 white hunter, half Indian in his dress and mode of life, sought his 
 game, a region in which the bear and the wolf were yet hunted, 
 and the panther, more formidable than either, lurked in the 
 thickets, and tales of wanderings in the wilderness, and encounters 
 with these fierce animals, beguiled the length of the winter nights. 
 Of this place, Cooper, although early removed from it to pursue 
 his studies, was an occasional resident throughout his life, and 
 here his last years were wholly passed. 
 
 At the age of thirteen he was sent to Yale College, where, not 
 withstanding his extreme youth, for, with the exception of the 
 poet Hillhouse, he was the youngest of his class, and Hillhouse 
 was afterwards withdrawn, his progress in his studies is said to 
 have been honorable to his talents. He left the college, after a 
 residence of three years, and became a midshipman in the United 
 States navy. Six years he followed the sea, and there yet 
 T anders, among those who are fond of literary anecdote, a story 
 of the young sailor who, in the streets ->f one of the English 
 ports, attracted the curiosity of the crowd by explaining to his 
 companions a Latin motto in some public p } ace. That during 
 this period he made himself master of the knowledge and the 
 imagery which he afterwards employed to so much advantage in 
 his romances of the sea, the finest ever written, is a common and 
 obvious remark ; but it has not been, so far as 1 know, observed 
 that from the discipline of a seaman s life he may have derived 
 much of his readiness and fertility of invention, much ">f his skill 
 in surrounding the personages of his novels with imaginary perils, 
 and rescuing them by probable expedients. Of all pursuits, the 
 
OF J. FEMMOKE COOPER. 7 
 
 life of a sailor is that which familiarizes men to danger in its 
 most fearful shapes, most cultivates presence of mind, and most 
 effectually calls forth the resources of a prompt and fearless dex 
 terity by which imminent evil is avoided. 
 
 In 1811, Cooper, having resigned his post as midshipman, began 
 the year by marrying Miss Delancy, sister of the present bishop 
 of the diocese of Western New York, and entered upon a domestic 
 life happily passed to its close. Hi 1 v.vnt to live at Mamaroneck, in 
 the county of Westchester, and wliLe here he wrote and published 
 the first of his novels, entitled Precaution. Concerning the 
 occasion of writing this work, it is related, that once, as he was 
 reading an English novel to Mrs. Cooper, who has, within a short 
 time past, been laid in the grave beside her illustrious husband, 
 and of whom we may now say, that her goodness was no less 
 eminent than his genius, he suddenly laid down the book, and 
 said, "I believe I could write a better myself." Almost imme 
 diately he composed a chapter of a projected work of fiction, and 
 read it to the same friendly judge, who encouraged him to finish 
 it, and when it was completed, suggested its publication. Of this 
 he had at the time no intention, but he was at length induced to 
 submit the manuscript to the examination of the late Charles 
 Wiikes, of this city, in \vhose literary opinions he had great con 
 fidence. Mr. Wiikes advised that it should be published, and to 
 these circumstances we owe it that Cooper became an author. 
 
 I confess I have merely dipped into this work. The experiment 
 was made with the first edition, deformed by a strange punctua 
 tion a profusion of commas, and other pauses, which puzzled 
 and repelled me. Its author, many years afterwards, revised and 
 republished it, correcting this fault, and some faults of style also, 
 so that to a casual inspection it appeared almost another work. 
 It was a professed delineation of English manners, though the 
 author had then seen nothing of English society. It had, however, 
 the honor of being adopted by the country whose manners it 
 described, and, being early republished in Great Britain, passed 
 from the first for an English novel. I am not unwilling to believe 
 what is said of it, that it contained a promise of the powers which 
 its author afterwards put forth. 
 
 Thirty years ago, in the year 1821, and in the thirty-second of 
 his life, Cooper published the first of the works by which he will 
 be known to posterity, the Spy. It took the reading world by a 
 kind of surprise ; its merit was acknowledged by a rapid sale ; the 
 public read with eagerness and the critics wondered. Many with 
 held their commendations on account of defects in the plot 01 
 blemishes in the composition, arising from want of practice, and 
 some waited till they could hear the judgment of European 
 readers. Yet there were not wanting critics in this country, ot 
 
8 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 whose good opinion any author in any part of the world might be 
 proud, who spoke of it in terms it deserved. "Are you not 
 delighted," wrote a literary friend to me, who has since risen to 
 high distinction as a writer, both in verse and in prose, " are you 
 not delighted with the Spy, as a work of infinite spirit and 
 * genius ?" In that word genius lay the explanation of the hold 
 which the work had taken on the minds of men. What it had of 
 excellence was peculiar and unborrowed ; its pictures of life, 
 whether in repose or activity, were drawn, with broad lights and 
 shadows, immediately from living originals in nature or in his own 
 imagination. To him, whatever he described was true ; it was 
 made a reality to him by the strength with which he conceived it. 
 His power in the delineation of character was shown in the princi 
 pal personage of his story, Harvey Birch, on whom, though he has 
 chosen to employ him in the ignoble office of a spy, and endowed 
 him with the qualities necessary to his profession, extreme cir 
 cumspection, fertility in stratagem, and the art of concealing his 
 real character qualities which, in conjunction with selfishness and 
 greediness, make the scoundrel, he has bestowed the virtues of 
 generosity, magnanimity, an intense love of country, a fidelity not 
 to be corrupted, and a disinterestedness beyond temptation. Out 
 of this combination of qualities he has wrought a character 
 which is a favorite in all nations, and with all classes of man 
 kind. 
 
 It is said that if you cast a pebble into the ocean, at the mouth 
 of our harbor, the vibration made in the water passes gradually 
 on till it strikes the icy barriers of the deep at the south pole. 
 The spread of Cooper s reputation is not confined within narrower 
 limits. The Spy is read in all the written dialects of Europe, and 
 in some of those of Asia. The French, immediately after its 
 first appearance, gave it to the multitudes who read their far- 
 diffused language, and placed it among the first works of its class. 
 It was rendered into Castilian, and passed into the hands of those 
 who dwell under the beams of the Southern Cross. At length it 
 passed the eastern frontier of Europe, and the latest record I have 
 seen of its progress towards absolute universality, is contained in 
 a statement of the International Magazine, derived, I presume, 
 from its author, that in 1847 it was published in a Persian trans 
 lation at Ispahan. Before this time, I doubt not, they are reading 
 it in some of the languages of Hindostan, and, if the Chinese evei 
 translated anything, it would be in the hands of the many millions 
 who inhabit the far Cathay. 
 
 I have spoken of the hesitation which American critics felt in 
 admitting the merits of the Spy, on account of crudities in the~ 
 plot or the composition, some of which, no doubt, really existed. 
 An exception must be made in favor of the Port Folio, whick, 
 
OF J. FENIMORE COOPER. 9 
 
 in a notice written by Mrs. Sarah Hall, mother of the editor of 
 that periodical, and author of Conversations on the Bible, gave the 
 vork a cordial welcome ; and Cooper, as I am informed, never for 
 got this act of timely and ready kindness. 
 
 It was perhaps favorable to the immediate success of the Spy, 
 that Cooper had few American authors to divide with" him the 
 public attention. That crowd of clever men and women who now 
 write for the magazines, who send out volumes of essays, 
 sketches, and poems, and who supply the press with novels, bio 
 graphies, and historical works, were then, for the most part, either 
 stammering then* lessons in the schools, or yet unborn. Yet it is 
 worthy of note, that just about the time that the Spy made its 
 appearance, the dawn of what we now call our literature was just 
 breaking. The concluding number of Dana s Idle Man, a work 
 neglected at first, but now numbered among the best things of the 
 kind in our language, was issued in the same month. The Sketch 
 Book was then just completed; the world was admiring it, and its 
 author was meditating Bracebridge Hall. Miss Sedgwick, about 
 the same time, made her first essay in that charming series of no 
 vels of domestic life in New England, which have gained her so 
 high a reputation. Percival,now unhappily silent, had just put to 
 press a volume of poems. I have a copy of an edition of Hal- 
 leek s Fanny, published in the same year ; the poem of Yamoyden, 
 by Eastbum and Sands, appeared almost simultaneously with 
 it Livingston was putting the finishing hand to his Report on 
 the Penal Code of Louisiana, a work written with such grave, 
 persuasive eloquence, that it belongs as much to our literature 
 as to our jurisprudence. Other contemporaneous American 
 works there were, now less read. Paul Allen s poem of 
 Noah was just laid on the counters of the booksellers. Arden 
 published, at the same time, in this city, a translation of Ovid s 
 Tristia, in heroic verse, in which the complaints of the effeminate 
 Roman poet were rendered with great fidelity to the original, and 
 sometimes not without beauty. If I may speak of myself, it was 
 in that year that I timidly intrusted to the winds and waves of 
 public opinion a small cargo of my own a poem entitled The 
 Ages, and half a dozen shorter ones, in a thin duodecimo volume, 
 printed at Cambridge. 
 
 We had, at the same time, works of elegant literature, fresh 
 from the press of Great Britain, which are still read and admired. 
 Barry Cornwall, then a young suitor for fame, published in the 
 same year his Marcia, Colonna ; Byron, in the full strength and 
 fertility of his genius, gave the readers of English his tragedy of 
 Marino Faliero, and was in the midst of his spirited controversy 
 with Bowles concerning the poetry of Pope. The Spy had to 
 sustain a comparison with Scott s Antiquary, published simulta- 
 
10 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 neously with it, and with Lockhart s Valerius, which seems 
 to me one of the most remarkable works of fiction ever corn- 
 
 In 1823, and in his thirty-fourth year, Cooper brought out his 
 novel of the Pioneers, the scene of which was laid on the borders 
 of his own beautiful lake. In a recent survey of Mr. Cooper s 
 works, by one of his admirers, it is intimated that the reputation 
 of thi work may have been in some degree factitious. I cannot 
 think so ; I cannot see how such a work could fail of becoming, 
 sooner or later, a favorite. It was several years after its first ap 
 pearance that I read the Pioneers, and I read it with a delighted 
 astonishment. Here, said I to myself, is the poet of rural life in 
 this country our Hesiod, our Theocritus, except that lu> writes 
 without the restraint of numbers, and is a greater poet than they. 
 In the Pioneers, as in a moving picture, are made to pass before 
 us the hardy occupations and spirited amusements of a prosperous 
 settlement, in a fertile region, encompassed for leagues around 
 with the primeval wilderness of woods. The seasons in their 
 different aspects, bringing with them their different employments ; 
 forests falling before the axe ; the cheerful population, with the 
 first mild day of spring, engaged in the sugar orchards ; the chase 
 of the deer through the deep woods, and into the lake ; turkey- 
 shooting, during, the Christmas holidays, in which the Indian 
 marksman vied for the prize of skill with the white man ; swift 
 sleigh rides under the bright winter sun, and perilous encounters 
 with wild animals in the forests ; these, and other scenes of rural 
 life, drawn, as Cooper knew how to draw them, in the bright and 
 healthful coloring of which he was master, are interwoven with 
 a regular narrative of human fortunes, not unskilfully constructed ; 
 and how could such a work be otherwise than popular 1 ? 
 
 In the Pioneers, Leatherstocking is first introduced a philoso 
 pher of the woods, ignorant of books, but instructed in all that 
 nature, without the aid of science, could reveal to the man of 
 quick senses and inquiring intellect, whose life has been passed 
 under the open sky, and in companionship with a race whose ani 
 mal perceptions are the acutest and most cultivated of which 
 there is any example. But Leatherstocking has higher qualities ; 
 in him there is a genial blending of the gentlest virtues of the 
 civilized man with the better nature of the aboriginal tribes ; all 
 that in them is noble, generous, and ideal, is adopted into his own 
 kindly character, and all that is evil is rejected. But why should 
 I attempt to analyse a character so familiar? Leatherstocking is 
 acknowledged, on all hands, to be one of the noblest, as well as 
 most striking and original creations of fiction. In some of his 
 subsequent novels, Cooper for he had not yet attained to the full 
 maturity of his powers- heightened and ennobled his first concep* 
 
OF J. FENIMORE COOPER. 11 
 
 tion of the character, but in the Pioneers it dazzled the world 
 with the splendor of novelty. 
 
 His next work was the Pilot, in which he showed how, from the 
 vicissitudes of a life at sea, its perils and escapes, from the beauty 
 and terrors of the great, deep, from the working of a vessel on a 
 long voyage, and from the frank, brave, and generous, but pecu 
 liar character of the seaman, may be drawn materials of romance 
 by which the minds of men may be as deeply moved as by any 
 thing in the power of romance to present. In this walk, Cooper 
 has had many disciples, but no rival. All who have since written 
 romances of the sea have been but travellers in a country of which 
 he was the great discoverer ; and none of them all seemed to have 
 loved a ship as Cooper loved it, or have been able so strongly to 
 interest all classes of readers in its fortunes. Among other per 
 sonages drawn with great strength in the Pilot, is the general fa 
 vorite, Tom Coffin, the thorough seaman, with all the virtues 
 and one or two of the infirmities of his profession, superstitious, 
 as seamen are apt to be, yet whose superstitions strike us as but 
 an irregular growth of his devout recognition of the Power who 
 holds the ocean in the hollow of his hand ; true-hearted, gentle, 
 full of resources, collected in danger, and at last calmly perishing 
 at the post of duty, with the vessel he has long guided, by what 
 I may call a great and magnanimous death. His rougher and 
 coarser companion, Boltrope, is drawn with scarcely less skill, and 
 with a no less vigorous hand. 
 
 The Pioneers is not Cooper s best tale of the American forest, 
 nor the Pilot, perhaps, in all respects, his best tale of the sea ; 
 yet, if he had ceased to write here, the measure of his fame would 
 possibly have been scarcely less ample than it now is. Neither 
 of them is far below the best of his productions, and in them ap 
 pear the two most remarkable creations of his imagination two 
 of the most remarkable characters in all fiction. 
 
 It was about this time that my acquaintance with Cooper be 
 gan, an acquaintance of more than a quarter of a century, in which 
 his deportment towards me was that of unvaried kincLness. He 
 then resided a considerable part of the year in this city, and here 
 he had founded a weekly club, to which many of the most dis 
 tinguished men of the place belonged. Of the members who 
 have since passed away, were Chancellor Kent, the jurist; \Viley, 
 the intelligent and liberal bookseller; Henry D. Seclgwick, always 
 active in schemes of benevolence ; Jams, the painter, a man of in 
 finite humor, whose jests awoke inextinguishable laughter; De 
 Kay, the naturalist ; Sands, the poet ; Jacob Harvey, whose genial 
 memory is cherished by many friends. Of those who are yet 
 living was Morse, the inventor of the electric telegraph ; Durand, 
 
12 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 then one of the first of engravers, and now no less illustrious as a 
 painter; Henry James Anderson, whose acquirements might 
 awaken the envy of the ripest scholars of the old world ; Hal leek, 
 the poet and wit; Verplanck, who has given the world the best 
 edition of Shakspeare for general readers ; Dr. King, now at the 
 head of Columbia College, and his two immediate predecessors in 
 that office. I might enlarge the list with many other names of 
 no less distinction. The army and navy contributed their propor 
 tion of members, whose names are on record in our national 
 history. Cooper when in town was always present, and I re 
 member being struck with the inexhaustible vivacity of his con 
 versation and the minuteness of his knowledge, in everything 
 which depended upon acuteness of observation and exactness of 
 recollection. I remember, too, being somewhat startled, coming 
 as I did from the seclusion of a country life, with a certain emphatic 
 frankness in his manner, which, however, I came at last to like 
 and to admire. The club met in the hotel called Washington 
 Hall, the site of which is now occupied by part of the circuit of 
 Stewart s marble building. 
 
 Lionel Lincoln, which cannot be ranked among the success 
 ful productions of Cooper, was published in 1825 ; and in the year 
 following appeared the Last of the Mohicans, which more than 
 recovered the ground lost by its predecessor. In this work, the 
 construction of the narrative has signal defects, but it is one of 
 the triumphs of the author s genius that he makes us unconscious 
 of them while we read. It is only when we have had time to 
 awake from the intense interest in which he has held us by the 
 vivid reality of his narrative, and have begun to search for faults 
 in cold blood, that we are able to find them. In the Last of the 
 Mohicans, we have a bolder portraiture of Leatherstocking than 
 in the Pioneers. 
 
 This work was published in 1826, and in the same year Cooper 
 sailed with his family for Europe. He left New York as one of 
 the vessels of war, described in his romances of the sea, goes out 
 of port, amidst the thunder of a parting salute from the big guns 
 on the batteries. A dinner was given him just before his de 
 parture, attended by most of the distinguished men of the city, at 
 which Peter A. Jay presided, and Dr. King addressed him in terms 
 which some then thought too glowing, but which would now 
 seem sufficiently temperate, expressing the" good wishes of his 
 friends, and dwelling on the satisfaction they promised themselves 
 in possessing so illustrious a representative of American literature 
 in the old world. Cooper was scarcely in France when he re 
 membered his friends of the weekly club, and sent frequent mis 
 sives to be read at its meetings ; but the club missed its founder 
 went into a decline, and not long afterwards quietly expired. 
 
OF J. FENIMORE COOPER. 18 
 
 The first of Cooper s novels published after leaving America was 
 the Prairie, which appeared early in 1827, a work with the ad 
 mirers of which I wholly agree. "I read it with a certain awe, an 
 undefined sense of sublimity, such as one experiences on entering, 
 for the first time, upon those immense grassy deserts from which 
 the work takes its name. The squatter and his family that 
 brawny old man and his large-limbed sons, living in a sort of pri 
 mitive and patriarchal barbarism, sluggish on ordinary occasions, 
 but terrible when roused, like the hurricane that sweeps the grand 
 but monotonous wilderness in which they dwell seem a natural 
 growth of ancient fields of the West. Leatherstocking, a hunter 
 in the Pioneers, a warrior in the Last of the Mohicans, and now, 
 in his extreme old age, a trapper on the prairie, declined in 
 strength, but undecayed in intellect, and looking to the near close 
 of his life, and a grave under the long grass, as calmly as the 
 laborer at sunset looks to his evening slumber, is no less in 
 harmony with the silent desert in which he wanders. Equally so 
 are the Indians, still his companions, copies of the American 
 savage somewhat idealized, but not the less a part of the wild ,. 
 nature in which they have their haunts. 
 
 Before the year closed, Cooper had given the world another 
 nautical tale, the Red Rover, which, with many, is a greater 
 favorite than the Pilot, and with reason, perhaps, if we consider 
 principally the incidents, which are conducted and described with 
 a greater mastery over the springs of pity and terror. 
 
 It happened to Cooper while he was abroad, as it not unfre- 
 quently happens to our countrymen, to hear the United States 
 disadvantageously compared with Europe. He had himself been 
 a close observer of things both here and in the old world, and was 
 conscious of being able to refute the detractors of his country in 
 regard to many points. He published in 1828, after he had been 
 two years in Europe, a series of letters, entitled Notions of the 
 Americans, by a Travelling Bachelor, in which he gave a favor 
 able account of the working of our institutions, and vindicated his 
 country from various flippant and ill-natured misrepresentations of 
 foreigners. It is rather too measured in style, but is written from 
 a mind full of the subject, and from a memory wonderfully stored 
 with particulars. Although twenty-four years have elapsed since 
 its publication, but little of the vindication has become obsolete. 
 Cooper loved his country and was proud of her history and her 
 institutions, but it puzzles many that he should have appeared, at 
 different times, as her eulogist and her cersor. My friends, she 
 is worthy both of praise and of blame, and Cooper was not the 
 man to shrink from bestowing either, at what seemed to him the 
 proper time. He defended her from detractors abroad ; he sought 
 to save her from flatterers at home. I will not say that he waa 
 
14 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 in as good humor with his country when he wrote Home at 
 Found, as when he wrote his Notions of the Americans, but this I 
 will say that whether he commended or censured, he did it in the 
 sincerity of his heart, as a true American, and in the belief that 
 it would do good. His Notions of the Americans were more 
 likely to lessen than to increase his popularity in Europe, inas 
 much as they were put forth without the slightest regard to 
 European prejudices. 
 
 In 1829, he brought out the novel entitled the Wept of Wish- 
 ton- Wish, one of the few of his works which we now rarely hear 
 mentioned. He was engaged in the composition of a third nau 
 tical tale, which he afterwards published under the name of the 
 Water- Witch, when the memorable revolution of the Three Days 
 of July broke out. He saw a government, ruling by fear and in 
 defiance of public opinion, overthrown in a few hours, with little 
 bloodshed ; he saw the French nation, far from being intoxicated 
 with their new liberty, peacefully addressing themselves to the 
 discussion of the institutions under which they were to live. A 
 work which Cooper afterwards published, his Residence in Europe, 
 gives the outline of a plan of government for France furnished 
 by him at that time to La Fayette, with whom he was in habits 
 of close and daily intimacy. It was his idea to give permanence 
 to the new order of things by associating two strong parties in its 
 support, the friends of legitimacy and the republicans. He sug 
 gested that Henry V. should be called to the hereditary throne of 
 France, a youth yet to be educated as the head of a free people, 
 that the peerage should be abolished, and a legislature of two 
 chambers established, with a constituency of at least a million 
 and a half of electors ; the senate to be chosen by the general 
 vote, as the representative of the entire nation, and the members 
 of the other house to be chosen by districts, as the representatives 
 of the local interests. To the middle ground of politics so 
 ostentatiously occupied by Louis Philippe at the beginning of his 
 reign, he predicted a brief duration, believing that it would speedily 
 be merged in despotism, or supplanted by the popular rule. His 
 prophecy has been fulfilled more amply than he could have imagin 
 ed fulfilled in both its alternatives. 
 
 In one of the controversies of that time, Cooper bore a dis 
 tinguished part. The Revue Britannique, a periodical published 
 in Paris, boldly affirmed the government of the United States to 
 be one of the most expensive in the world, and its people among 
 the most heavily taxed of mankind. This assertion was supported 
 with a certain show of proof, and the writer affected to have 
 established the conclusion that a republic must necessarily be more 
 expensive than a monarchy. The partisans of the court were 
 delighted wi .h the reasoning of the article, and claimed a triumph 
 
OF J. FKNIMOUE COOl EK. 15 
 
 orer our ancient friend La Fayette, who, during forty years, had 
 not c-eased to hold up the government of the United States as the 
 cheapest in the world. At the suggestion of La Fayette, Cooper 
 replied to this attack upon his country in a letter which was 
 translated into French, and, together with another from General 
 Bertrand, for many years a resident in America, was laid before 
 the people of France. 
 
 These tw r o letters provoked a shower of rejoinders, in which, 
 according to Cooper, misstatements were mingled with scurrility. 
 He commenced a series of letters on the question in dispute, 
 which were published in the National, a daily sheet, and gave the 
 first evidence of that extraordinary acuteness in controversy which 
 was no less characteristic of his mind than the vigor of his 
 imagination. The enemies of La Fayette pressed into their ser 
 vice Mr. Leaviit Harris, of New Jersey, afterwards our charge 
 d affaires at the court of France, but Cooper replied to Mr. Harris 
 in the National of May 2d, 1832, closing a discussion in which he 
 had effectually silenced those who objected to our institutions on 
 the score of economy. Of these letters, which would form an 
 important chapter in political science, no entire copy, I have been 
 told, is to be found in this country. 
 
 One of the consequences of earnest controversy is almost in 
 variably personal ill-will. Cooper was told by one w r ho held an 
 official station under the French government, that the part he had 
 taken in this dispute concerning taxation would neither be for 
 gotten nor forgiven. The dislike he had incurred hi that quarter 
 was strengthened by his novel of the Bravo, published in the year 
 1831, while he w r as in the midst of his quarrel with the aristocratic 
 party. In that work, of which he has himself justly said that it 
 was thoroughly American in all that belonged to it, his object 
 was to show how institutions, professedly created to prevent 
 violence and wrong, become, when perverted from their natural 
 destination, the instruments of injustice ; and how, in every system 
 which makes power the exclusive property of the strong, the weak 
 are sure to be oppressed. The work is \vritten with all the vigor 
 and spirit of his best novels ; the magnificent city of Venice, in 
 which the scene of the story is laid, stands continually before the 
 imagination ; and from time to time the gorgeous ceremonies of 
 the Venetian republic pass under our eyes, such as the marriage 
 of the Doge with the Adriatic, and the contest of the gondolas for 
 the prize of speed. The Bravo himself and several of the other 
 characters are strongly conceived and distinguished, but the most 
 remarkable of them all is the spirited and generous-hearted 
 daughter of the jailer. 
 
 It has been said by some critics, who judge of Cooper by his 
 failures, that he had no skill in drawing female characters. By 
 
16 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 the same process, it might, I suppose, be shown that Raphael waa 
 but an ordinary painter. It must be admitted that when Cooper 
 drew a lady of high breeding, he was apt to pay too much 
 attention to the formal part of her character, and to make her a 
 mere bundle of cold proprieties. But when he places his heroines 
 in some situation in life which leaves him nothing to do but to 
 make them natural and true, I know of nothing finer, nothing 
 more attractive or more individual than the portraitures he has 
 given us. 
 
 Figaro, the wittiest of the French periodicals, and at that time 
 on the liberal side, commended the Bravo; the journals on the 
 side of the government censured it. Figaro afterwards passed 
 into the hands of the aristocratic party, and Cooper became the 
 object of its attacks. He was not, however, a man to be driven 
 from any purpose which he had formed, either by flattery or abuse, 
 and both were*tried with equal ill success. In 1832 he published 
 his Heidenmauer, and in 1833 his Headsman of Berne, both with 
 a political design similar to that of the Bravo, though neither of 
 them takes the same high rank among his works. 
 
 In 1833, after a residence of seven years in different parts of 
 Europe, but mostly in France, Cooper returned to his native 
 country. The welcome which met him here was somewhat 
 chilled by the effect of the attacks made upon him in France, 
 and remembering with what zeal, and at what sacrifice of the 
 universal acceptance which his works would otherwise have met, 
 he had maintained the cause of his country against the wits and 
 orators of the court party in France, we cannot wonder that he 
 should have felt this coldness as undeserved. He published, 
 shortly after his arrival in this country, A Letter to Ms Countrymen 
 in which he complained of the censures cast upon him in the 
 American newspapers, gave a history of the part he had taken in 
 exposing the misstatements of the Revue Britannique, and warned 
 his countrymen against the too common error of resorting, with a 
 blind deference, to foreign authorities, often swayed by national or 
 political prejudices, for our opinions of American authors. Going 
 beyond this topic, he examined and reprehended the habit of 
 applying to the interpretation of our own constitution maxima 
 derived from the practice of other governments, particularly that 
 of Great Britain. The importance of construing that instrument 
 by its own principles, he illustrated by considering several points 
 in dispute between parties of the day, on which he gave very 
 decided opinions. 
 
 The principal effect of this pamphlet, as it seemed to me, was 
 to awaken in certain quarters a kind of resentment that a success 
 ful writer of fiction should presume to give lessons in politics. 1 
 meddle not here with the conclusions to which he arrived, though 
 
OF J. FENIMORE COOPER. IT 
 
 i must be allowed to say that they were stated and argued with 
 great ability. In 1835 Cooper published The Monnikins, a 
 satirical work, partly with a political aim ; and in the same year 
 appeared his American Democrat, a view of the civil and social 
 relations of the United States, discussing more gravely various 
 topics touched upon in the former work, and pointing out in what 
 respects he deemed the American people in their practice to have 
 fallen short of the excellence of their institutions. 
 
 He found time, however, for a more genial task that of giving 
 to the world his observations on foreign countries. In 1836 
 appeared his Sketches of Switzerland, a series of letters in four 
 volumes, the second part published about two months after the 
 first, a delightful work, written in a more fluent and flexible style 
 than his Notions of the Americans. The first part of Gleanings in 
 Europe, giving an account of his residence in France, followed 
 in the same year ; and the second part of the same work, contain 
 ing his observations on England, was published in April, 1837. 
 In these works, forming a series of eight volumes, he relates and 
 describes with much of the same distinctness as in his novels ; 
 and his remarks on the manners and institutions of the different 
 countries, often sagacious, and always peculiarly his own, derive, 
 from then- frequent reference to contemporary events, an historical 
 interest. 
 
 In 1838 appeared Homeicard Bound and Home as Found, two 
 satirical novels, in which Cooper held up to ridicule a certain class 
 of conductors of the newspaper press in America. These works 
 had not the good fortune to become popular. Cooper did not, 
 and, because he was too deeply in earnest, perhaps would not, 
 infuse into his satirical works that gaiety without which satire 
 becomes wearisome. I believe, however, that if they had been 
 written by anybody else they would have met with more favor ; 
 but the world knew that Cooper was able to give them something 
 better, and would not be satisfied with anything short of his best. 
 Some childishly imagined that because, in the two works I have 
 just mentioned, a newspaper editor is introduced, in whose cha 
 racter almost every possible vice of his profession \s made to find 
 a place, Cooper intended an indiscriminate attack upon the whole 
 body of writers for the newspaper press, forgetting that such a 
 portraiture was a satire only on those to whom it bore a likeness. 
 We have become less sensitive and more reasonable of late, and 
 the monthly periodicals make sport for their readers of the folliea 
 and ignorance of the newspaper editors, without awakening the 
 slightest resentment ; but Cooper led the way in this sort of 
 discipline, and I remember some instances of towering indignation 
 at his audacity expressed in the journals of that time. 
 
 The next year Cooper made his appearance before the public in 
 
18 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 a new department of writing; his Natal History of the United 
 States was brought out in two octavo volumes at Philadelphia, by 
 Carey and Lea. In writing his stories of the sea, his attention had 
 been much turned to this subject, and his mind filled with striking 
 incidents from expeditions and battles in which our naval com 
 manders had been engaged. This made his task the lighter ; but 
 he gathered his materials with great industry, and with a con 
 scientious attention to exactness, for he was not a man to take a 
 fact for granted, or allow imagination to usurp the place of inquiry. 
 He digested our naval annals into a narrative, written with spirit, 
 it is true, but with that air of sincere dealing which the reader 
 willingly takes as a pledge of its authenticity. 
 
 An abridgment of the work was afterwards prepared and pub 
 lished by the author. The Edinburgh Review, in an article pro 
 fessing to examine the statements both of Cooper s work and of 
 The History of the English Naxy, written by Mr. James, a surgeon 
 by profession, made a violent attack upon the American historian. 
 Unfortunately, it took James s narrative as its sole guide, and 
 followed it implicitly. Cooper replied in the Democratic Review 
 for January, 1840, and by a masterly analysis of his statements, 
 convicting James of self-contradiction in almost every particular 
 in which he differed from himself, refuted both James and the 
 reviewer. It was a refutation which admitted of no rejoinder. 
 
 Scarce .anything in Cooper s life was so remarkable, or so 
 strikingly illustrated his character, as his contest with the news 
 paper press. He engaged in it after provocations, many and long 
 endured, and prosecuted it through years with great energy, per 
 severance, and practical dexterity, till he was left master of the 
 field. In what I am about to say of it, I hope I shall not give 
 offence to any one, as I shall speak without the slightest malevo 
 lence towards those with whom he waged this controversy. Over 
 some of them, as over their renowned adversary, the grave has 
 now closed. Yet where shall the truth be spoken, if not beside 
 the grave ? 
 
 I have already alluded to the principal causes which provoked 
 the newspaper attacks upon Cooper. If he had never meddled 
 with questions of government on either side of the Atlantic, and 
 never satirized the newspaper press, I have little doubt that he 
 would have been spared these attacks. I cannot, however, ascribe 
 them all, or even the greater part of them, to personal malignity. 
 One journal followed the example of another, with little reflection, 
 I think, in most cases, till it became a sort of fashion, not merely 
 to decry his works, but to arraign his motives. 
 
 It is related that, in 1832, while he was at Paris, an article was 
 shown him in an American newspaper, purporting to be a criticism 
 
OF J. FENIMORE COOPEE. 10 
 
 on one of his works, but reflecting with much asperity on his per 
 sonal character. " I care nothing," he is reported to have said, 
 for the criticism, but I am not indifferent to the slander. If 
 these attacks on my character should be kept up five years after 
 my return to America, I shall resort to the New York "courts for 
 protection." He gave the newspaper press of this state the full 
 period of forbearance on which he had fixed, but finding that 
 forbearance seemed to encourage assault, he sought redress in 
 the courts of law. 
 
 When these litigations were first begun, I recollect it seemed 
 to me that Cooper had taken a step which would give him a 
 great deal of trouble, and effect but little good. I said to 
 myself 
 
 " Alas ! Leviathan is not so tamed ! " 
 
 As he proceeded, however, I saw that he had understood the 
 matter better than I. He put a hook into the nose of this huge 
 monster, wallowing in his inky pool and bespattering the passers- 
 by ; he dragged him to the land and made him tractable. One suit 
 followed another; one editor was sued, I think, half-a-dozen tunes ; 
 some of them found themselves under a second indictment before 
 the first was tried. In vindicating himself to his reader, against 
 the charge of publishing one libel, the angry journalist often 
 floundered into another. The occasions of these prosecutions 
 seem to have been always carefully considered, for Cooper was 
 almost uniformly successful in obtaining verdicts. In a letter of 
 his, written in February, 1843, about five years, I think, from the 
 commencement of the first prosecutions, he says, " I have beaten 
 every man I have sued, who has not retracted his libels." 
 
 In one of these suits, commenced against the late William L. 
 Stone of the Commercial Advertiser, and referred to the arbitra 
 tion of three distinguished lawyers, he argued himself the question 
 of the authenticity of his account of the battle of Lake Erie, 
 which was the matter in dispute. I listened to his opening ; it 
 was clear, skilful, and persuasive, but his closing argument was 
 said to be splendidly eloquent. " I have heard nothing like it," 
 said a barrister to me, " since the days of Emmet." 
 
 Cooper behaved liberally towards his antagonists, so far as 
 pecuniary damages were concerned, though some of them wholly 
 escaped then* payment by bankruptcy. After, I believe, about six 
 years of litigation, the newspaper press gradually subsided into a 
 pacific disposition towards its adversary, and the contest closed 
 with the account of pecuniary profit and loss, so far as be was 
 concerned, nearly balanced. The occasion of these suits was far 
 from honorable to those who provoked them, but the result was, 
 I had almost said, creditable to all parties; to him, as the coura 
 
20 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 geous prosecutor, to the administration of justice in this country, 
 and to th-e docility of the newspaper press, which he had disci 
 plined into good manners. 
 
 It was while he was in the midst of these litigations, that he 
 
 published, in 1840, the Pathfinder. People had begun to think of 
 him as a controversialist, acute, keen, and persevering, occupied 
 with his personal wrongs and schemes of attack and defence. 
 
 *- They were startled from this estimate of his character by the 
 moral duty of that glorious work I must so call it ; by the vivid 
 ness and force of its delineations, by the unspoiled love of nature 
 apparent in every page, and by the fresh and warm emotions 
 which everywhere gave life to the narrative and the dialogue. 
 Cooper was now in his fifty-first year, but nothing which he had 
 produced in the earlier part of his literary life was written with so 
 much of what might seem the generous fervor of youth, or 
 showed the faculty of invention in higher vigor. I recollect that 
 near the time of its appearance I was informed of an observation 
 made upon it by one highly distinguished in the literature of our 
 country and of the age, between whom and the author an unhappy 
 coolness had for some years existed. As he finished the reading 
 
 \ of the Pathfinder, he exclaimed, " They may say what they will of 
 Cooper ; the man who wrote this book is not only a great man, 
 but a good man." 
 
 The readers of the Pathfinder were quickly reconciled to the fourth 
 appearance of Leatherstocking, when they saw him made to act a 
 different part from any which the author had hitherto assigned 
 him when they saw him shown as a lover, and placed in the 
 midst of associations which invested his character with a higher 
 and more affecting heroism. In this work are two female charac 
 ters, portrayed in a masterly manner, the corporal s daughter, 
 Mabel Dunham, generous, resolute, yet womanly, and the young 
 Indian woman, called by her tribe the Dew of June, a personifica 
 tion of female truth, affection, and sympathy, with a strong 
 aboriginal cast, yet a product of nature as bright and pure as that 
 from which she is named. 
 
 Mercedes of Castile, published near the close of the same year, 
 has none of the stronger characteristics of Cooper s genius ; but in 
 the Deerslayer, which appeared in 1841, another of his Leather- 
 stocking tales, he gave us a work rivalling the Pathfinder. 
 Leatherstocking is brought before us in his early youth, in the 
 first exercise of that keen sagacity which is blended so harmo 
 niously with a simple and ingenuous goodness. The two daughters 
 of the retired freebooter dwelling on the Otsego lake, inspire 
 scarcely less interest than the principal personage ; Judith, in the 
 pride of her beauty and intellect, her good impulses contending 
 with a fatal love of admiration, holding us fascinated with a con- 
 
OF J. FENIMORE COOPER. 21 
 
 rrtant interest in her fate, which, with consummate skill, we are 
 permitted rather to conjecture than to know; and Hetty, scarcely 
 less beautiful in person, weak-minded, but wise in the midst of 
 that weakness beyond the wisdom of the loftiest intellect, through 
 the power of conscience and religion. The character of Hetty 
 would have been a hazardous experiment in feebler hands, but in 
 his it was admirably successful. 
 
 The Two Admirals and Wing-an d- Wing were given to the 
 public in 1842, both of them taking a high rank among Cooper s 
 sea-tales. The first of these is a sort of naval epic in prose ; the 
 flight and chase of armed vessels hold us in breathless suspense, 
 and the sea-fights are described with a terrible power. In the 
 later sea-tales of Cooper, it seems to me that the mastery with 
 which he makes his grand processions of events pass before the 
 mind s eye is even greater than in his earlier. The next year he 
 published the Wyandotte or Hutted Knoll, one of his beautiful 
 romances of the woods, and in 1844 two more of his sea-stories, 
 Afloat and Ashore and Miles Wallingford its sequel. The long 
 series of his nautical tales was closed "by Jack Tier or the Florida 
 Reef, published in 1848, when Cooper was in his sixtieth year, 
 and it is as full of spirit, energy, invention, life-like presentation 
 of objects and events 
 
 The vision and the faculty divine 
 
 as anything he has written. 
 
 Let me pause here to say that Cooper, though not a manufacturer 
 of verse, was in the highest sense of the word a poet ; his imagin 
 ation wrought nobly and grandly, and imposed its creations on 
 the mind of the reader for realities. With him there was no 
 withering, or decline, or disuse of the poetic faculty ; as he stepped 
 downwards from the zenith of life, no shadow or chill came over 
 it ; it was like the year of some genial climates, a perpetual season 
 of verdure, bloom, and fruitfulness. As these works came out, I 
 was rejoiced to see that he was unspoiled by the controversies in 
 which he had allowed himself to become engaged ; that they had 
 not given, to these better expressions of his genius, any tinge of 
 misanthropy, or appearance of contracting and closing sympathies, 
 any trace of an interest in his fellow-beings less large and free 
 than in his earlier works. 
 
 Before the appearance of his Jack Tier, Cooper published, in 
 1845 and the following year, a series of novels relating to the 
 Anti-rent question, in which he took great interest. He thought 
 that the disposition manifested in certain quarters to make con 
 cessions to what he deemed a denial of the rights of property, 
 was a first step in a most dangerous path. To discourage this 
 disposition, he wrote Satansto&> The Chainbearer, and The Red- 
 
22 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 skins. They are didactic in their design, and want the freedom 
 of invention which belongs to Cooper s best novels ; but if they 
 had been written by anybody but Cooper, by a member of 
 Congress, for example, or an eminent politician of any class, 
 they would have made his reputation. It was said, I am told, by 
 a distinguished jurist of our state, that they entitled the author to 
 as high a place in law as his other works had won for him in lite 
 rature. 
 
 I had thought, in meditating the plan of this discourse, to 
 mention all the works of Mr. Cooper, but the length to which I 
 have found it extending has induced me to pass over several 
 written in the last ten years of his life, and to confine myself to 
 those which best illustrate his literary character. The last of his 
 novels was The Ways of the Hour, a work in which the objections 
 he entertained to the .trial by jury in civil causes were stated in 
 the form of a narrative. 
 
 It is a voluminous catalogue that of Cooper s published works 
 but it comprises not all he wrote. He committed to the fire, 
 without remorse, many of the fruits of his literary industry. It 
 was understood, some years since, that he had a work ready for 
 the press on the Middle States of the Union, principally illustrative 
 of their social history ; but it has not been found among his manu 
 scripts, and the presumption is that he must have destroyed it. 
 He had planned a work on the Towns of Manhattan, for the 
 publication of which he made arrangements with Mr. Putnam of 
 this city, and a part of which, already written, was in press at the 
 time of his death. The printed part has since been destroyed by 
 fire, but a portion of the manuscript was recovered. The work, I 
 learn, will be completed by one of the family, who, within a few 
 years past, has earned an honorable name among the authors of 
 our country. Great as was the number of his works, and great 
 as was the favor with which they were received, the pecuniary 
 rewards of his success were far less than has been generally sup 
 posed scarcely, as I am informed, a tenth part of what the com 
 mon rumor made them. His fame was infinitely the largest 
 acknowledgment which this most successful of American authors 
 received for his labors. 
 
 The Ways of the Hour appeared in 1850. At this time his 
 personal appearance was remarkable. He seemed in perfect health, 
 and in the highest energy and activity of his faculties. I have 
 scarcely seen any man at that period of life on whom his years sat 
 more lightly. His conversation had lost none of its liveliness, 
 though it seemed somewhat more genial and forbearing in tone, 
 and his spirits none of their elasticity. He was contemplating, I 
 have since been told, another Leatherstocking tale, deeming that 
 he had not yet exhausted the character ; and those who consider 
 
OF J. FENIMORE COOPER. 23 
 
 what new resources it yielded him in the Pathfinder and the Deer- 
 slayer, will readily conclude that he was not mistaken. 
 
 The disease, however, by which he was removed, was even then 
 impending over him, and not long afterwards his friends here were 
 
 frieved to learn that his health was declining. He came to New 
 ork so changed that they looked at him with sorrow, and after 
 a stay of some weeks, partly for the benefits of medical advice, 
 returned to Cooperstown, to leave it no more. His complaint 
 gradually gained strength, subdued a constitution originally robust, 
 and finally passed into a confirmed dropsy. In August, 1851, he 
 was visited by his excellent and learned friend, Dr. Francis, a 
 member of the weekly club which he had founded in the early 
 part of his literary career. He found him bearing the sufferings 
 of his disease with manly firmness, gave him such medical counsels 
 as the malady appeared to require, prepared him delicately for its 
 fatal termination, and returned to New York with the most me 
 lancholy anticipations. In a few days afterwards, Cooper expired, 
 amid the deep affliction of his family, on the 14th of September, 
 the day before that on which he should have completed his sixty- 
 second year. He died, apparently without pain, in peace and re 
 ligious hope. The relations of man to his Maker, and to that 
 state of being for which the present is but a preparation, had oc 
 cupied much of his thoughts during his whole lifetime, and he 
 crossed, with a serene composure, the mysterious boundary which 
 divides this life from the next. 
 
 The departure of such a man, in th full strength of his facul 
 ties, on whom the country had for thirty years looked as one of 
 the permanent ornaments of its literature, and whose name had 
 been so often associated with praise, with renown, with contro 
 versy, with blame, but ne\ er with death, diffused a universal awe. 
 It was as if an e-arthquake had shaken the ground on which we 
 stood, and showed the grave opening by our path. In the general 
 grief for his loss, his virtues only were remembered, and his failings 
 forgotten. 
 
 Of his failings I have said little ; such as he had were obvious 
 to all the world ; they lay on the surface of his character ; those 
 who knew him least made the most account of them. With a 
 character so made up of positive qualities a character so inde 
 pendent and uncompromising, and with a sensitiveness far more 
 acute than he was willing to acknowledge, it is not surprising that 
 occasions frequently arose to bring him, sometimes into friendly 
 collision, and sometimes into graver disagreements and misunder 
 standings with his fellow-men. For his infirmities, his friends 
 found an ample counterpoise in the generous sincerity of his 
 nature. He never thought of disguising his opinions, and he ab 
 horred all disguise in others ; he did not even deign to use that 
 
24 LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 show of regard towards those of whom he did not think well, 
 which the world tolerates, and almost demands. A manly ex 
 pression of opinion, however different from his own, commanded 
 his respect. Of his own works, he spoke with the same freedom 
 as of the works of others ; and never hesitated to express Jiis 
 judgment of a book for the reason that it was written by himself; 
 yet he could bear with gentleness any dissent from the estimate 
 ne placed on his own writings. His character was like the bark 
 of the cinnamon, a rough and astringent rind without, and an in 
 tense sweetness within. Those who penetrated below the surface 
 found a genial temper, warm affections, and a heart with ample 
 place for his friends, their pursuits, their good name, their welfare. 
 They found him a philanthropist, though not precisely after the 
 fashion of the day ; a religious man, most devout where devotion 
 is most apt to be a feeling rather than a custom, in the household 
 circle ; hospitable, and to the extent of his means liberal-handed 
 in acts of charity. They found, also, that though in general he 
 would as soon have thought of giving up an old friend as of 
 giving up an opinion, he was not proof against testimony, and 
 could part with a mistaken opinion as one parts with an old friend 
 who has been proved faithless and unworthy. In short, Cooper 
 was one of those who, to be loved, must be intimately known. 
 
 Of his literary character I have spoken largely in the narrative 
 of his life, but there are yet one or two remarks which must be 
 made to do it justice. In that way of writing in which he ex 
 celled, it seems to me that he united, in a pre-eminent degree, 
 those qualities which enabled him to interest the largest number 
 of readers. He wrote not for the fastidious, the over-refined, the 
 morbidly delicate ; for these find in his genius something too ro 
 bust for their liking something by which their sensibilities are 
 too rudely shaken ; but he wrote for mankind at large for men 
 and women in the ordinary healthful state of feeling and in 
 their admiration he found his reward. It is for this class that pub 
 lic libraries are obliged to provide themselves with an extraordina 
 ry number of copies of his works : the number in the Mercantile 
 Library in this city, I am told, is forty. Hence it is, that he has 
 earned a fame, wider, I think, than any author of modern times 
 wider, certainly, than any author, of any age, ever enjoyed in hig 
 lifetime. All his excellences are translatable they pass readily 
 into languages the least allied in their genius to that in which he 
 wrote, and in them he touches the heart and kindles the imagina 
 tion with the same power as in the original English. 
 
 Cooper was not wholly without humor; it is sometimes found 
 lurking in the dialogue of Harvey Birch, and of Leather-stocking ; 
 but it forms no considerable element in his works; and if it did. 
 it would have stood in the way of his universal popularity, since 
 
OF J. FENIMORE COOPER. 25 
 
 of all qualities, it is the most difficult to transfuse into a foreign 
 language. Nor did the effect he produced upon the reader depend 
 on any grace of style which would escape a translator of ordinary 
 skill. With his style, it is true, he took great pains, and in hig 
 earlier works, I am told, sometimes altered the proofs sent from 
 the printer so largely that they might be said to be written over. 
 Yet he attained no special felicity, variety, or compass of expres 
 sion. His style, however, answered his purpose ; it has defects, 
 but it is manly and clear, and stamps on the mind of the reader 
 the impression he desired to convey. I am not sure that some of 
 the very defects of Cooper s novels do not add. by a certain force 
 of contrast, to their power over the mind. He is long in getting 
 at the interest of his narrative. The progress of the plot, at first, 
 is like that of one of his own vessels of war, slowly, heavily, and 
 even awkwardly working out of a harbor. We are impatient 
 and weary, but when the vessel is once in the open sea, and feels 
 the free breath of heaven in her full sheets, our delight and ad 
 miration is all the greater at the grace, the majesty, and power 
 with which she divides and bears down the waves, and pursues 
 her course, at will, over the great waste of waters. 
 
 Such are the works so widely read, and so universally admired, 
 in all the zones of the globe, and by men of every kindred and 
 every tongue ; works which have made of those who dwell in re 
 mote latitudes, wanderers in our forests, and observers of our 
 manners, and have inspired them with an interest in our history. 
 A gentleman who had returner 1 from Europe just before the 
 death of Cooper, was asked what he found the people of the Con 
 tinent doing. " They all are re? ding Cooper," he answered ; " in 
 the little kingdom of Holland, with its three millions of inhabit 
 ants, I looked into four different translations of Cooper in the 
 language of the country." A traveller, who has seen much of the 
 middle classes of Italy, lately said to me, " I found that all they 
 knew of America, and that was not little, they had learned from 
 Cooper s novels ; from him they had learned the story of Ameri 
 can liberty, and through him they had been introduced to our 
 Washington ; they had read his works till the shores of the 
 Hudson, and the valleys of Westchester, and the banks of Otsego 
 lake, had become to them familiar ground." 
 
 Over all the countries into whose speech this great man s works 
 have been rendered by the labors of their scholars, the sorrow 
 of that loss which we deplore is now diffusing itself. Here we 
 lament the ornament of our country, there they mourn the death 
 of him who delighted the human race. Even now, while I speak, 
 the pulse of grief which is passing through the nations has haply 
 just reached some remote neighborhood ; the news of his death 
 has been brought to some dwelling on the slopes of the Andes, or 
 
 2 
 
20 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF J. FENIMORE COOPETt. 
 
 amidst the snowy wastes of the North, and the dark-eyed damsel 
 of Chile, or the fair-haired maid of Norway, is sad to think that 
 he whose stories of heroism and true love have so often kept her 
 for hours from her pillow, lives no more. 
 
 He is gone! but the creations of his genius, fixed in living 
 words, survive the frail material organs by which the words were 
 first traced. They partake of a middle nature, between the 
 deathless mind and the decaying body of which they are the com 
 mon offspring, and are, therefore, destined to a duration, if not 
 eternal, yet indefinite. The examples he has given in his glorious 
 fictions, of heroism, honor, and truth, of large sympathies be 
 tween man and man, of all that is good, great, and excellent, em 
 bodied in personages marked with so strong an individuality that 
 we place them among our friends and favorites ; his frank and 
 generous men, his gentle and noble women, shall live through cen 
 turies to come, and only perish with our language. I have said 
 with our language ; but who shall say when it may be the fate of 
 the English language to be numbered with the extinct forms of 
 human speech 1 Who shall declare which of the present tongues 
 of the civilized world will survive its fellows ? It may be that 
 some one of them, more fortunate than the rest, will long outlast 
 them, in some undisturbed quarter of the globe, and in the midst 
 of a new civilization. The creations of Cooper s genius, even 
 now transferred to that language, may remain to be the delight of 
 the nations through another great cycle of centuries, beginning 
 after the English language and its contemporaneous form of 
 civilization shall have passed awav. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 NEW EDITION 
 
 THIS book originally owed its existence to an 
 accident, and it was printed under circumstances 
 that prevented the usual supervision of the press by 
 the author. The consequences were many defects 
 in plot, style, and arrangement, that were entirely 
 o wing to precipitation and inexperience ; and quite 
 as many faults, of another nature, that are to be 
 traced solely to a bad manuscript and worse proof 
 reading. Perhaps no novel of our times was worse 
 printed than the first edition of this work. More 
 than a hundred periods were placed in the middle 
 of sentences, and perhaps five times that number 
 
i 
 
 XXViii PREFACE. 
 
 were omitted in places where they ought to have 
 been inserted. It is scarcely necessary to add, that 
 passages were rendered obscure, and that entire 
 paragraphs were unintelligible. 
 
 Most of the faults just mentioned have now been 
 corrected, though it would require more labor than 
 would produce an entirely new work, to repair all 
 the inherent defects that are attributable to haste, 
 and to the awkwardness of a novice in the art of 
 composing. In this respect, the work and its 
 blemishes are probably inseparable. Still, the reader 
 will now be better rewarded for his time, and, on 
 the whole, the book is much more worthy of his 
 attention. 
 
 It has been said that PKECAUTION owes its 
 existence to fortuitous circumstances. The same 
 causes induced its English plot, and, in a measure, 
 the medley of characters that no doubt will appear 
 a mistake in the conception. It can scarcely be 
 said that the work was commenced with any view to 
 publication; and when it was finally put into j 
 publisher s hands, with " all its imperfections on it 
 head," the last thought of the writer was an 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 expectation that it would be followed by a series of 
 similar tales from, the same pen. 
 
 More than this the public will feel no interest in 
 knowing, and less than this the author could not 
 consent to say on presenting to the world a reprint 
 of a book with so few claims to notice. 
 
PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " I WONDER if we are to have a neighbor in the Deanery 
 goon," inquired Clara Moseley, addressing herself to a small 
 party assembled in her father s drawing-room, while standing 
 at a window which commanded a distant view of the house 
 in question. 
 
 " Oh yes," replied her brother, " the agent has let it to a 
 Mr. Jarvis for a couple of years, and he is to take possession 
 this week." 
 
 " And who is the Mr. Jarvis that is about to become so 
 near a neighbor ?" asked Sir Edward Moseley. 
 
 * Why, sir, I learn he has been a capital merchant ; that 
 he has retired from business with a large fortune ; that he has, 
 jke yourself, sir, an only hope for his declining years in a 
 son, an officer in the army ; and, moreover, that he has a 
 couple of fine daughters ; so, sir, he is a man of family in one 
 sense, at least, you see. But," dropping his voice, " whether 
 he is a man of family in your sense, Jane," looking at his 
 second sister, " is more than I could discover." 
 
82 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " I hope you did not take the trouble, sir, to inquire on 
 my account," retorted Jane, coloring slightly with vexation 
 at his speech. 
 
 " Indeed I did, my dear sis, and solely on your account," 
 replied the laughing brother, " for you well know that no 
 gentility, no husband ; and it s dull work to you young ladies 
 without at least a possibility of matrimony ; as for Clara, she 
 
 jj 
 
 Here he was stopped by his youngest sister Emily placing 
 her hand on his mouth, as she whispered in his ear, " John, 
 you forget the anxiety of a certain gentleman about a fair 
 incognita at Bath, and a list of inquiries concerning her line 
 age, and a few other indispensables." John, in his turn, 
 colored, and affectionately kissing the hand which kept him 
 silent, addressed himself to Jane, and by his vivacity and 
 good humor soon restored her to complacency. 
 
 " I rejoice," said Lady Moseley, " that Sir William has 
 found a tenant, however ; for next to occupying it himself, it 
 is a most desirable thing to have a good tenant in it, on 
 account of the circle in which we live." 
 
 " And Mr. Jarvis has the great goodness of money, by 
 John s account," caustically observed Mrs. Wilson, who was 
 a sister of Sir Edward s. 
 
 " Let me tell you, madam," cried the rector of the parish, 
 looking around him pleasantly, and who was pretty constant, 
 and always a welcome visitor in the family, " that a great 
 deal of money is a very good thing in itself, and that a great 
 many very good things may be done with it " 
 
 " Such as paying tythes, ha ! doctor," cried Mr. Haughton, 
 a gentleman of landed property in the neighborhood, of 
 plain exterior, but great goodness of heart, and between whom 
 and the rector subsisted the most cordial good will. 
 
 " Aye, tythes, or halves, as the baronet did here, when he 
 
PRECAUTION. 33 
 
 forgave old Gregson one half his rent, and his children the 
 other." 
 
 -" Well, but, my dear," said Sir Edward to his wife, " you 
 must not starve our friends because we are to have a neigh 
 bor. William has stood with the dining-room door open 
 hese five minutes " 
 
 Lady Moseley gave her hand to the rector, and the com 
 pany followed them, without any order, to the dinner table. 
 
 The party assembled around the hospitable board of the 
 baronet was composed, besides the before-mentioned persons, 
 of the w r ife of Mr. Haughton, a woman of much good sense 
 and modesty of deportment : their daughter, a young lady 
 conspicuous for nothing but good nature ; and the wife and 
 son of the rector the latter but lately admitted to holy 
 orders himself. 
 
 The remainder of the day passed in an uninterrupted flow 
 of pleasant conversation, the natural consequence of a unison 
 of opinions on all leading questions, the parties having long 
 known and esteemed each other for those qualities which 
 soonest reconcile us to the common frailties of our nature. 
 On parting at the usual hour, it was agreed to meet that day 
 week at the rectory, and the doctor, on making his bow to 
 Lady Moseley, observed, that he intended, in virtue of his 
 office, to make an early call on the Jarvis family, and that, if 
 possible, he would persuade them to be of the party. 
 
 Sir Edward Moseley was descended from one of the most 
 respectable of the creations of his order by James, and had 
 inherited, with many of the virtues of his ancestor, an estate 
 which placed him amongst the greatest landed proprietors of 
 the county. But, as it had been an invariable rule never to 
 deduct a single acre from the inheritance of the eldest son, 
 and the extravagance of his mother, who was the daughter 
 of a nobleman, had much embarrassed the affairs of hi & 
 
 2* 
 
34 PRECAUTION. 
 
 ther, Sir Edward, on coming into possession of his estate, 
 had wisely determined to withdraw from tke gay world, by 
 renting his house in town, and retiring altogether to his res 
 pectable mansion, about a hundred miles from the metropolis. 
 Here he hoped, by a course of systematic but liberal eco 
 nomy, to release himself from all embarrassments, and to make 
 such a provision for his younger children, the three daughters 
 already mentioned, as he conceived their birth entitled them 
 to expect. Seventeen years enabled him to accomplish this 
 plan ; and for more than eighteen months, Sir Edward had 
 resumed the hospitality and appearance usual in his family, 
 and had even promised his delighted girls to take possession, 
 the ensuing winter, of the house in St. James s Square. 
 Nature had not qualified Sir Edward for great or continued 
 exertions, and the prudent decision he had taken to retrieve 
 his fortunes, was perhaps an act of as much forecast and 
 vigor as his talents or energy would afford ; it was the step 
 most obviously for his interests, and the one that was safest 
 both in its execution and consequences, and as such it had 
 been adopted : but, had it required a single particle more of 
 enterprise or calculation, it would have been beyond his 
 powers, and the heir might have yet labored under the diffi 
 culties which distressed his more brilliant, but less prudent 
 parent. 
 
 The baronet was warmly attached to his wife ; and as she 
 was a woman of many valuable and no obnoxious qualities, 
 civil and attentive by habit to all around her, and perfectly 
 disinterested in her attachments to her own family, nothing 
 in nature could partake more of perfection in the eyes of her 
 husband and children than the conduct of this beloved rela 
 tive. Yet Lady Moseley had her failings, however, although 
 few were disposed to view her errors with that severity which 
 truth and a just discrimination of character render necessary. 
 
PRECAUTION. 35 
 
 Her union had been one of love, and for a time it had been 
 objected to by the friends of her husband, on the score of 
 fortune ; but constancy and perseverance prevailed, and the 
 protracted and inconsequent opposition of his parents had 
 left no other effects than an aversion in the children to the 
 exercise of parental authority, in marrying their own descend 
 ants : an aversion which, though common to both the worthy 
 baronet and his wife, was somewhat different in its two sub 
 jects. In the husband it was quiescent ; but in the wife, it 
 was slightly shaded with the female esprit de corps, of having 
 her daughters comfortably established, and that in due 
 season. Lady Moseley was religious, but hardly pious ; she 
 was charitable in deeds, but not always in opinions; her 
 intentions were pure, but neither her prejudices nor her rea 
 soning powers suffered her to be at all times consistent. Still 
 few knew her that did not love her, and none were ever heard 
 to say aught against her breeding, her morals, or her disposi 
 tion. 
 
 The sister of Sir Edward had been married, early in life, to 
 an officer in the army, who, spending much of his time abroad 
 on service, had left her a prey to that solicitude to which she 
 was necessarily a prey by her attachment to her husband. 
 To find relief from this perpetual and life-wearing anxiety, 
 an invaluable friend had pointed out the only true remedy 
 of which her case admitted, a research into her own heart, 
 and the employments of active benevolence. The death of 
 her husband, who lost his life in battle, caused her to with 
 draw in a great measure from the world, and gave time and 
 inducement for reflections, which led to impressions on reli 
 gion that were sufficiently correct hi themselves, and indis 
 pensable as the basis of future happiness, but which became 
 slightly tinctured with the sternness of her vigorous mind, 
 and possibly, at times were more unbending than was com- 
 
36 PRECAUTION. 
 
 patible with the comforts of this world ; a fault, however, of 
 manner, more than of matter. Warmly attached to her 
 brother and his children, Mrs. Wilson, who had never been a 
 mother herself, yielded to their earnest entreaties to become 
 one of the family; and although left by the late General 
 Wilson with a large income, ever since his death she had 
 given up her own establishment, and devoted most of hei 
 time to the formation of the character of her youngest niece. 
 Lady Moseley had submitted this child entirely to the control 
 of the aunt ; and it was commonly thought Emily would 
 inherit the very handsome sum left at the disposal of the 
 General s widow. 
 
 Both Sir Edward and Lady Moseley possessed a large 
 share of personal beauty when young, and it had descended 
 in common to all tbeir children, but more particularly to the 
 two youngest daughters. Although a strong family resem 
 blance, both" in person and character, existed between these 
 closely connected relatives, yet it existed with shades of dis 
 tinction that had very different effects on their conduct, and 
 led to results which stamped their lives with widely differing 
 degrees of happiness. 
 
 Between the families at Moseley Hall and the rectory, there 
 had existed for many years an intimacy founded on esteem 
 and on long intercourse. Doctor Ives was a clergyman of 
 deep piety, and of very considerable talents ; he possessed, 
 in addition to a moderate benefice, an independent fortune 
 in right of his wife, who was the only child of a distinguished 
 naval officer. Both were well connected, well bred, and well 
 disposed to their fellow creatures. They were blessed with 
 but one child, the young divine we have mentioned, who pro 
 mised to equal his father in all those qualities which had 
 made the Doctor the delight of his friends, And almost the 
 idol of his parishioners. 
 
PRECAUTION. 37 
 
 Between Francis Ives and Clara Moseley, there had been 
 an attachment, which had grown with their years, from child 
 hood. He had been her companion in their youthful recrea 
 tions, had espoused her little quarrels, and participated in her 
 innocent pleasures., for so many years, and with such an evi 
 dent preference for each other in the youthful pair, that, on 
 leaving college to enter on the studies of his sacred calling 
 with his father, Francis rightly judged that none other would 
 make his future life as happy, as the mild, the tender, the 
 unassuming Clara. Their passion, if so gentle a. feeling 
 deserre the term, received the sanction of their parents, and 
 the two families waited only for the establishment of the 
 young divine, to perfect the union. 
 
 The retirement of Sir Edward s family had been uniform, 
 with the exception of an occasional visit to an aged uncle of 
 his wife s, and who, in return, spent much of his time with 
 them at the Hall, and who had openly declared his intention 
 of making the children of Lady Moseley his heirs. The visits 
 of Mr. Benfield were always hailed with joy, and as an event 
 that called for more than ordinary gaiety; for, although 
 rough in manner, and somewhat infirm from years, the old 
 bachelor, who was rather addicted to the customs in which 
 he had indulged in his youth, and was fond of dwelling on 
 the scenes of former days, was universally beloved where he 
 was intimately known, for an unbounded though eccentric 
 philanthropy. 
 
 The illness of the mother-in-law of Mrs. Wilson had called 
 her to Bath the winter preceding the spring when our history 
 commences, and she had been accompanied thither by her 
 nephew and favorite niece. John and Emily, during the 
 month of their residence in that city, were in the practice of 
 making daily excursions in its environs. It was in one of 
 these little drives that they were of accidental service to a 
 
38 PRECAUTION. 
 
 very young and very beautiful woman, apparently in low 
 health. They had taken her up in their carriage, and con 
 veyed her to a farm-house where she resided, during a faint- 
 ness which had come over her in a walk ; and her beauty, 
 air, and manner, altogether so different from those around 
 her, had interested them both to a painful degree. They had 
 ventured to call the following day to inquire after her welfare, 
 and this visit led to a slight intercourse, which continued for 
 the fortnight they remained there. 
 
 John had given himself some trouble to ascertain who she 
 was, but in vain. They could merely learn that her life was 
 blameless, that she saw no one but themselves, and her dia 
 lect raised a suspicion that she was not English. It was to 
 this unknown fair Emily alluded in her playful attempt to 
 stop the heedless rattle of her brother, who was not always 
 restrained from uttering what he thought by a proper regard 
 for the feelings of others. 
 
PRECAUTION. 39 
 
 CHAPTER IT. 
 
 THE morning succeeding the day of the dinner at the Hall, 
 Mrs. Wilson, with all her nieces and her nephew, availed her 
 self of the fineness of the weather to walk to the rectory, 
 where they were all in the habit of making informal and 
 friendly visits. They had just got out of the little village of 
 
 B , which lay in then* route, when a rather handsome 
 
 travelling carriage and four passed them, and took the road 
 which led to the Deanery. 
 
 " As I live," cried John, " there go our new neighbors the 
 Jarvis s ; yes, yes, that must be the old merchant muffled up 
 in the corner ; I mistook him at first for a pile of bandboxes ; 
 then the rosy-cheeked lady, with so many feathers, must be 
 the old lady heaven forgive me, Mrs. Jarvis I mean aye, 
 and the two others the belles." 
 
 " You are in a hurry to pronounce them belles, John," said 
 Jane, pettishly ; " it would be well to see more of them before 
 you speak so decidedly." 
 
 " Oh !" replied John, "I have seen enough of them, and" 
 he was interrupted by the whirling of a tilbury and tandem, 
 followed by a couple of servants on horseback. All about 
 this vehicle and its masters bore the stamp of decided fashion ; 
 and our party had followed it with then* eyes for a short dis 
 tance, when, having reached a fork in the roads, it stopped, 
 and evidently waited the coming up of the pedestrians, as if 
 to make an inquiry. A single glance of the eye was sufficien 
 to apprise the gentleman on the cushion (who held the reins) 
 of the kind of people he had to deal with, and stepping from 
 
40 PRECAUTION. 
 
 his carriage, he met them with a graceful bow, and after 
 handsomely apologizing for the trouble he was giving, he 
 desired to know which road led to the Deanery. "The 
 right," replied John, returning his salutation. 
 
 " Ask them, Colonel," cried the charioteer, " whether the 
 old gentleman went right or not." 
 
 The Colonel, in the manner of a perfect gentleman, but 
 with a look of compassion for his companion s want of tact, 
 Inade the desired inquiry ; which being satisfactorily answered, 
 he again bowed and was retiring, as one of several pointers 
 who followed the cavalcade sprang upon Jane, and soiled 
 her walking dress with his dirty feet. 
 
 " Come hither, Dido," cried the Colonel, hastening to beat 
 the dog back from the young lady ; and again he apologized 
 in the same collected and handsome manner, then turning to 
 one of the servants, he said, "call in the dog, sir," and 
 rejoined his companion. The air of this gentleman was pecu 
 liarly pleasant ; it would not have been difficult to pronounce 
 him a soldier had he not been addressed as such by his 
 younger and certainly less polished companion. The Colonel 
 was apparently about thirty, and of extremely handsome face 
 and figure, while his driving friend appeared several years 
 younger, and of altogether different materials. 
 
 " I wonder," said Jane, as they turned a corner which hid 
 them from view, " who they are ?" 
 
 " Who they are ?" cried the brother, " why the Jarvis s to 
 be sure ; didn t you hear them ask the road to the Deanery ?" 
 
 " Oh ! the one that drove, he may be a Jarvis, but not the 
 gentleman who spoke to us surely not, John ; besides, he 
 was called Colonel, you know." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said John, with one of his quizzing expressions, 
 * Colonel Jarvis, that, must be the alderman ; they are com 
 monly colonels of city volunteers : yes, that must have been 
 
PRECAUTION. 41 
 
 the old gem mun who spoke to us. and I was right after all 
 about the bandboxes." 
 
 " You forget," said Clara, smiling, " the polite inquiry con 
 cerning the old gem mun." 
 
 " Ah ! true ; who the deuce can this Colonel be then, for 
 young Jarvis is only a captain, I know ; who do you think he 
 is, Jane ?" 
 
 " How do you think I can tell you, John ? But whoever he 
 is, he owns the tilbury, although he did not drive it ; and he 
 is a gentleman both by birth and manners." 
 
 " Why, Jane, if you know so much of him, you should 
 know more ; but it is all guess with you." 
 
 " No ; it is not guess I am certain of what I say." 
 
 The aunt and sisters, who had taken little interest in the 
 dialogue, looked at her with some surprise, which John 
 observing, he exclaimed, " Poh : she knows no more than 
 we all know." 
 
 " Indeed I do." 
 
 " Poh, poh, if you know, tell." 
 
 " Why, the arms were different." 
 
 John laughed as he said, " That is a good reason, sure 
 enough, for the tilbury s being the colonel s property ; but 
 now for his blood ; how did you discover that, sis by his 
 gait and actions, as we say of horses ?" 
 
 Jane colored a little, and laughed faintly. " The arms 
 on the tilbury had six quarterings." 
 
 Emily now laughed, and Mrs. Wilson and Clara smiled, 
 while John continued his teazing until they reached the 
 rectory. 
 
 While chatting with the doctor and his wife, Francis 
 returned from his morning ride, and told them the Jarvis 
 family had arrived ; he had witnessed an unpleasant accident 
 to a gig, in which were Captain Jarvis,, and a friend, a Colonel 
 
42 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Egerton ; it had been awkwardly driven in turning into the 
 Deanery gate, and upset : the colonel received some injury 
 to his ankle, nothing, however, serious he hoped, but such as 
 to put him under the care of the young ladies, probably, for a 
 few days. After the exclamations which usually follow such 
 details, Jane ventured to inquire who Colonel Egerton 
 was. 
 
 " I understood at the time, from one of the servants, that 
 he is a nephew of Sir Edgar Egerton, and a lieutenant- colonel 
 on half-pay, or furlough, or some such thing." 
 
 " How did he bear his misfortune, Mr. Francis ?" inquired 
 Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 tl Certainly as a gentleman, madam, if not as a Christian," 
 replied the young clergyman, slily smiling ; " indeed, most 
 men of gallantry would, I believe, rejoice in an accident which 
 drew forth so much sympathy as both the Miss Jarvis s 
 manifested." 
 
 " How fortunate you should all happen to be near !" said 
 the tender-hearted Clara. 
 
 " Are the young ladies pretty ?" asked Jane, with some 
 thing of hesitation in her manner. 
 
 "Why, I rather think they are; but I took very little 
 notice of their appearance, as the colonel was really in evi 
 dent pain." 
 
 " This, then," cried the doctor, " affords me an additional 
 excuse for calling on them at an early day, so I ll e en go 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " I trust Doctor Ives wants no apologies for performing 
 his duty," said Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 * He is fond of making them, though," said Mrs. Ives, 
 peaking with a benevolent smile, and for the first time in the 
 little conversation. 
 
 It was then arranged that the rector should make his offi 
 
PRECAUTION. 43 
 
 cial visit, as intended by himself ; and on his report, the ladies 
 would act. After remaining at the rectory an hour, they 
 returned to the hall, attended by Francis. 
 
 The next day the doctor drove in, and informed them the 
 Jarvis family were happily settled, and the colonel in no dan 
 ger, excepting from the fascinations of the two young ladies, 
 who took such palpable care of him that he wanted for 
 nothing, and they might drive over whenever they pleased, 
 without fear of intruding unseasonably. 
 
 Mr. Jarvis received his guests with the frankness of good 
 feelings, if not with the polish of high life ; while his wife, 
 who seldom thought of the former, would have been mortally 
 offended with the person who could have suggested that she 
 omitted any of the elegancies of the latter. Her daughters 
 were rather pretty, but wanted, both in appearance and 
 manner, the inexpressible air of haut ton which so eminently 
 distinguished the easy but polished deportment of Colonel 
 Egerton, whom they found reclining on a sofa with his leg on 
 a chair, amply secured in numerous bandages, but unable to 
 rise. Notwithstanding the awkwardness of his situation, he 
 was by far the least discomposed person of the party, and 
 having pleasantly excused himself, he appeared to think no 
 more of the matter. 
 
 The captain, Mrs. Jarvis remarked, had gone out with his 
 dogs to try the grounds around them, " for he seems to live 
 only with his horses and his gun : young men, my lady, now 
 adays, appear to forget that there are any things in the 
 world but themselves ; now I told Harry that your ladyship 
 and daughters would favor us with a call this morning but 
 no : there he went, as if Mr. Jarvis was unable to buy us a 
 dinner, and we should all starve but for his quails and 
 pheasants." 
 
 " Quails and pheasants," cried John, in consternation, 
 
44 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " does Captain Jarvis shoot quails and pheasants at this 
 time of the year ?" 
 
 " Mrs. Jarvis, sir," said Colonel Egerton, with a correcting 
 smile, " understands the allegiance due from us gentlemen 
 to the ladies, better than the rules of sporting ; my friend, the 
 captain, has taken his fishing rod, I believe." 
 
 " It is all one, fish or birds," continued Mrs. Jarvis, " he is 
 out of the way when he is wanted, and I believe we can buy 
 fish as easily as birds ; I wish he would take pattern after 
 yourself, colonel, in these matters." 
 
 Colonel Egerton laughed pleasantly, but he did not blush ; 
 and Miss Jarvis observed, with a look of something like 
 admiration thrown on his reclining figure, " that when Harry 
 had been in the army as long as his friend, he would know 
 the usages of good society, she hoped, as well." 
 
 " Yes," said her mother, " the army is certainly the place 
 to polish a young man ;" and turning to Mrs. Wilson, she 
 abruptly added, " Your husband, I believe, was in the army, 
 ma am ?" 
 
 " I hope," said Emily hastily, " that we shall have the 
 pleasure of seeing you soon, Miss Jarvis, at the Hall," pre 
 venting by her promptitude the necessity of a reply from her 
 aunt. The young lady promised to make an early visit, and 
 the subject changed to a general and uninteresting discourse 
 on the neighborhood, the country, the weather, and other 
 ordinary topics. 
 
 " Now, John," cried Jane in triumph, as they drove from 
 the door, " you must acknowledge my heraldic witchcraft, 
 as you are pleased to call it, is right for once at least." 
 
 " Oh ! no doubt, Jenny," said John, who was accustomed 
 to use that appellation to her as a provocation, when he wished 
 what he called an enlivening scene ; but Mrs. Wilson put a 
 damper on his hopes by a remark to his mother, and the 
 
PRECAUTION. 46 
 
 habitual respect of both the combatants kept them 
 silent. 
 
 Jane Moseley was endowed by nature with an excellent 
 understanding, one at least equal to that of her brother, but 
 she wanted the more essential requisites of a well governed 
 mind. Masters had been provided by Sir Edward for all his 
 daughters, and if they were not acquainted with the usual 
 acquirements of young women in their rank of life, it was not 
 his fault : his system of economy had not embraced a denial 
 of opportunity to any of his children, and the baronet was 
 apt to think all was done, when they were put where all 
 might be done. Feeling herself and parents entitled to enter 
 into all the gaieties and splendors of some of the richer 
 families in their vicinity, Jane, who had grown up during the 
 temporary eclipse of Sir Edward s fortunes, had sought that 
 self-consolation so common to people in her situation, which 
 was to be found in reviewing the former grandeur of her 
 house, and she had thus contracted a degree of family pride. 
 If Clara s weaknesses were less striking than those of Jane, it 
 was because she had less imagination, and because that in 
 loving Francis Tves she had so long admired a character, 
 where so little was to be found that could be censured, that 
 t>he might be said to have contracted a habit of judging cor 
 rectly, without being able at all times to give a reason for her 
 conduct or her opinions. 
 
46 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE day fixed for one of the stated visits of Mr. Benfield 
 had now arrived, and John, with Emily, who was the old 
 bachelor s favorite niece, went in the baronet s post-chaise 
 
 to the town of F , a distance of twenty miles, to meet 
 
 him, in order to accompany him in the remainder of his jour 
 ney to the Hall, it being a settled rule with the old man, that 
 his carriage horses should return to their own stables every 
 night, where he imagined they could alone find that comfort 
 and care to which their age and services gave them a claim. 
 The day was uncommonly pleasant, and the young people 
 were in high spirits with the expectation of meeting their 
 respected relative, whose absence had been prolonged a few 
 days by a severe fit of the gout. 
 
 " Now, jfimily," cried John, as he settled himself comfort 
 ably by the side of his sister in the chaise, " let me know 
 honestly how you like the Jarvis s, and particularly how you 
 like the handsome colonel." 
 
 " Then, John, honestly, I neither like nor dislike the Jar- 
 vis s or the handsome colonel." 
 
 " Well, then, there is no great diversity in our sentiments, 
 as Jane would say." 
 
 "John!" 
 
 "Emily!" 
 
 " I do not like to hear you speak so disrespectfully of our 
 sister, whom I am sure you love as tenderly as I do myself." 
 
 ** I acknowledge my error," said the brother, taking her 
 band and affectionately kissing it, "and will endeavor to 
 
PRECAUTION. 47 
 
 offend no more ; but this Colonel Egerton, sister, is certainly 
 a gentleman, both by blood and in manners, as Jane" 
 Emily interrupted him with a laugh, which John took very 
 good-naturedly, repeating his remark without alluding to 
 their sister. 
 
 " Yes," said Emily, " he is genteel in his deportment, if 
 that be what you mean ; I know nothing of his family." 
 
 " Oh, I have taken a peep into Jane s Baronetage, where 
 I find him set down as Sir Edgar s heir." 
 
 "There is something about him," said Emily, musing, 
 " that I do not much admire ; he is too easy there is no 
 nature ; I always feel afraid such people will laugh at me as 
 soon as my back is turned, and for those very things they 
 seem most to admire to my face. If I might be allowed to 
 judge, I should say his manner wants one thing, without 
 which no one can be truly agreeable." 
 
 "What s that?" 
 
 " Sincerity." 
 
 " Ah ! that s my great recommendation ; but I am afraid I 
 shall have to take the poacher up, with his quails and his 
 pheasants, indeed." 
 
 " You know the colonel explained that to be a mistake." 
 
 " What they call explaining away ; but unluckily I saw 
 the gentleman returning with his gun on his shoulder, and 
 followed by a brace of pointers." 
 
 " There s a specimen of the colonel s manners then," said 
 Emily, smiling; " it will do until the truth be known." 
 
 " And Jane, when she saw him also, praised his good 
 nature and consideration, in what she was pleased to call, 
 relieving the awkwardness of my remark." 
 
 Emily finding her brother disposed to dwell on the foibles 
 of Jane, a thing he was rather addicted to at times, was silent. 
 They rode some distance before John, who was ever as ready 
 
48 PRECAUTION. 
 
 to atone as he was to offend, again apologized, again pro 
 mised reformation, and during the remainder of the ride only 
 forgot himself twice more in the same way. 
 
 They reached F two hours before the lumbering coach 
 
 of their uncle drove into the yard of the inn, and had sufficient 
 time to refresh their own horses for the journey homewards. 
 Mr. Benfie^d was a bachelor of eighty, but retained the 
 personal .activity of a man of sixty. He was strongly attached 
 to all the fashions and opinions of his youth, during which 
 he had sat one term in parliament, having been a great beau 
 and courtier in the commencement of the reign. A disap 
 pointment in an affair of the heart drove him into retirement : 
 and for the last fifty years he had dwelt exclusively at a seat 
 he owned within forty miles of Moseley Hall, the mistress of 
 which was the only child of his only brother. In figure, he 
 was tall and spare, very erect for his years, and he faithfully 
 preserved in his attire, servants, carriages, and indeed every 
 thing around him, as much of the fashions of his youth as 
 circumstances would allow: such then was a faint outline of 
 the character and appearance of the old man, who, dressed 
 in a cocked hat, bag wig, and sword, took the offered arm of 
 John Moseley to alight from his coach. 
 
 " So," cried the old gentleman, having made good his foot 
 ing on the ground, as he stopped short and stared John in 
 the face, " you have made out to come twenty miles to meet 
 an old cynic, have you, sir ? but I thought I bid thee bring 
 Emmy with thee." 
 
 John pointed to the window, where his sister stood anxi 
 ously watching her uncle s movements. On catching her eye, 
 he smiled kindly, and pursued his way into the house, talking 
 to himself. 
 
 " Aye, there she is indeed ; I remember now, when I was 
 a youngster, of going with my kinsman, old Lord Gosford, to 
 
PRECAUTION. 49 
 
 meet his sister, the Lady Juliana, when she first came from 
 school (this was the lady whose infidelity had driven him 
 from the world) ; and a beauty she was indeed, something 
 like Emmy there; only she was taller, and her eyes were 
 black, and her hair too, that was black ; and she was not so 
 fair as Emmy, and she was fatter, and she stooped a little 
 very little ; oh ! they are wonderfully alike though ; don t you 
 think they were, nephew ?" he stopped at the door of the 
 room ; while John, who in this description could not see a 
 resemblance, which existed nowhere but in the old man s 
 affections, was fain to say, " yes ; but they were related, you 
 know, uncle, and that explains the likeness." 
 
 " True, boy, true," said his uncle, pleased at a reason for 
 a thing he wished, and which flattered his propensities. He 
 had once before told Emily she put him in mind of his house 
 keeper, a woman as old as himself, and without a tooth in her 
 head. 
 
 On meeting his niece, Mr. Benfield (who, like many others 
 that feel strongly, wore in common the affectation of indiffer 
 ence and displeasure) yielded to his fondness, and folding 
 her in his arms, kissed her affectionately, while a tear glistened 
 in his eye ; and then pushing her gently from him, he 
 exclaimed, " Come, come, Emmy, don t strangle me, don t 
 strangle me, girl ; let me live in peace the little while I have 
 to remain here so," seating himself composedly in an arm 
 chair his niece had placed for him with a cushion, " so Anne 
 writes me, Sir William Harris has let the deanery." 
 
 " Oh, yes, uncle," cried John. 
 
 "I ll thank you, young gentleman," said Mr. Benfield, 
 sternly, " not to interrupt me when I am speaking to a lady ; 
 that is, if you please, sir. Then Sir William has let the 
 deanery to a London merchant, a Mr. Jarvis. Now I knew 
 three people of that name ; one was a hackney coachman, 
 
 3 
 
50 PRECAUTION. 
 
 when I was a member of the parliament of this realm, and 
 drove me often to the house ; the other was valet-de-chamlre 
 to my Lord Gosford ; and the third, I take it, is the very man 
 who has become your neighbor. If it be the person I mean, 
 Emmy dear, he is like like aye, very like old Peter, my 
 steward." 
 
 John, unable to contain his mirth at this discovery of a 
 likeness between the prototype of Mr. Benfield himself in 
 leanness of figure, and the jolly rotundity of the merchant, 
 was obliged to leave the room ; Emily, though she could not 
 forbear smiling at the comparison, quietly said, "You will 
 meet him to-morrow, dear uncle, and then you will be able 
 to judge for yourself." 
 
 " Yes, yes," muttered the old man, " very like old Peter, 
 my steward ; as like as two peas." The parallel was by no 
 means as ridiculous as might be supposed ; its history being 
 as follows : 
 
 Mr. Benfield had placed twenty thousand pounds in the 
 hands of a broker, with positive orders for him to pay it away 
 immediately for government stock, bought by the former on 
 his account ; but disregarding this injunction, the broker had 
 managed the transaction in such a way as to postpone the 
 payment, until, on his failure, he had given up that and a 
 much larger sum to Mr. Jarvis, to satisfy what he called an 
 honorary debt. In elucidating the transaction Mr. Jarvis 
 paid Bentield Lodge a visit, and honestly restored the bachelor 
 his property. This act, and the high opinion he entertained 
 of Mrs. Wilson, with his unbounded love for Emily, were the 
 few things which prevented his believing some dreadful judg 
 ment was about to visit this world, for its increasing wicked 
 ness and follies. As his own steward was one of the honestest 
 fellows living, he had ever after fancied that there was a per 
 sonal resemblance between him and the conscientious merchant 
 
PRECAUTION. 51 
 
 The horses being ready, the old bachelor was placed care 
 fully between his nephew and niece, and in that manner they 
 rode on quietly to the Hall, the dread of accident keeping 
 Mr. Benfield silent most of the way. On passing, however 
 a stately castle, about ten miles from the termination of their 
 fide, he began one of his speeches with, 
 
 " Emmy, dear, does Lord Bolt on come often to see you ?" 
 Very seldom, sir ; his employment keeps him much of 
 his time at St. James s, and then he has an estate in Ireland." 
 " I knew his father well he was distantly connected by 
 marriage with mv friend Lord Gosford ; you could not 
 remember him, I suspect (John rolled his eyes at this 
 suggestion of his sister s recollection of a man who had been 
 forty years dead) ; " he always voted with me in the parlia 
 ment of this realm ; he was a thoroughly honest man ; very 
 much such a man to look at as Peter Johnson, my steward : 
 but I am told his son likes the good things of the ministry ; 
 well, well, William Pitt was the only minister to my mind. 
 There was the Scotchman of whom they made a Marquis ; I 
 never could endure him always voted against him." 
 
 " Right or wrong, uncle," cried John, who loved a little 
 mischief in his heart. 
 
 " No, sir right, but never wrong. Lord Gosford always 
 voted against him too ; and do you think, jackanapes, that 
 my friend the Earl of Gosford and and myself were ever 
 wrong ? No, sir, men in my day were different creatures 
 from what they are now: we were never wrong, sir; we 
 loved our country, and had no motive for being in the wrong. 1 
 
 " How was it with Lord Bute, uncle ?" 
 
 " Lord Bute, sir," cried the old man with great warmth, 
 " was the minister, sir he was the minister ; aye, he was the 
 minister, sir, and was paid for what he did." 
 
 " But Lord Chatham, was he not the minister too]" 
 
52 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Now, nothing vexed the old gentleman more than to 
 hear William Pitt called by his tardy honors; and yet, 
 unwilling to give up what he thought his political opinions, 
 he exclaimed, with an unanswerable positiveness of argu 
 ment, 
 
 " Billy Pitt, sir, was the minister, sir ; but but but he 
 was our minister, sir." 
 
 Emily, unable to see her uncle agitated by such useless 
 disputes, threw a reproachful glance on her brother, as she 
 observed timidly, 
 
 lt That was a glorious administration, sir, I believe." 
 
 " Glorious indeed ! Emmy dear," said the bachelor, soften 
 ing with the sound of her voice, and the recollections of his 
 younger days, " we beat the French everywhere in Ame 
 rica in Germany ; we took (counting on his fingers) 
 we took Quebec yes, Lord Gosford lost a cousin there ; and 
 we took all the Canadas ; and we took their fleets : there was 
 a young man killed in the battle between Hawke and Con- 
 flans, who was much attached to Lady Juliana poor soul ! 
 how much she regretted him when dead, though she never 
 could abide him when living ah ! she was a tender-hearted 
 creature !" 
 
 Mr. Benfield, like many others, continued to love imaginary 
 qualities in his mistress, long after her heartless coquetry had 
 disgusted him with her person: a kind of feeling which 
 springs from self-love, which finds it necessary to seek con 
 solation in creating beauties, that may justify our follies to 
 ourselves; and which often keeps alive the semblance of 
 the passion, when even hope, or real admiration, is 
 extinct. 
 
 On reaching the Hall, every one was rejoiced to see their 
 really affectionate and worthy relative, and the evening passed 
 in the tranquil enjoyment of the blessings which Providence 
 
PRECAUTION. 53 
 
 had profusely scattered around the family of the baronet, but 
 which are too often hazarded by a neglect of duty that 
 springs from too great security, or an indolence which 
 renders us averse to the precaution necessary to insure theif 
 continuance. 
 
54 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " You are welcome, Sir Edward," said the venerable recto. , 
 as lie took the baronet by the hand ; " I was fearful a return 
 of your rheumatism would deprive us of this pleasure, and 
 prevent my making you acquainted with the new occupants 
 of the deanery, who have consented to dine with us to-day, 
 and to whom I have promised, hi particular, an introduction 
 to Sir Edward Moseley." 
 
 " I thank you, my dear doctor," rejoined the baronet ; " I 
 have not only come myself, but have persuaded Mr. Benfield 
 to make one of the party ; there he comes, leaning on Emily s 
 arm, and finding fault with Mrs. Wilson s new-fashioned ba 
 rouche, which he says has given him cold." 
 
 The rector received the unexpected guest with the kindness 
 of his nature, and an inward smile at the incongruous assem 
 blage he was likely to have around him by the arrival of the 
 Jarvis s, who, at that moment, drove to his door. The intro 
 ductions between the baronet and the new comers had passed, 
 and Miss Jarvis had made a prettily worded apology on be 
 half of the colonel, who was not yet well enough to come out, 
 bnt whose politeness had insisted on their not remaining at 
 home on his account, as Mr. Benfield, having composedly put 
 on his spectacles, walked deliberately up to the place where 
 the merchant had seated himself, and having examined him 
 through his glasses to his satisfaction, took them off, and care 
 fully wiping them, he began to talk to himself as he put them 
 into his pocket " No, no ; it s not Jack, the hackney coach 
 man, nor m} Lord Gosford s gentleman, but" cordially 
 
PRECAUTION. 55 
 
 holding out both hands, " it s the man who saved my twenty- 
 thousand pounds." 
 
 Mr. Jar vis, whom shame and embarrassment had kept silent 
 during this examination, exchanged greetings sincerely with 
 his old acquaintance, who now took a seat in silence by his 
 side ; while his wife, whose face had begun to kindle with 
 indignation at the commencement of the old gentleman s so 
 liloquy, observing that somehow or other it had not only ter 
 minated without degradation to her spouse, but with some 
 thing like credit, turned complacently to Mrs. Ives, with an 
 apology for the absence of her son. 
 
 " I cannot divine, ma am, where he has got to ; he is ever 
 keeping us waiting for him ;" and, addressing Jane, " these 
 military men become so unsettled in their habits, that I often 
 tell Harry he should never quit the camp." 
 
 i( In Hyde Park, you should add, my dear, for he has never 
 been in any other," bluntly observed her husband. 
 
 To this speech no reply was made, but it was evidently 
 little relished by the ladies of the family, who were a good 
 deal jealous of the laurels of the only hero their race had 
 ever produced. The arrival and introduction of the captain 
 himself changed the discourse, which turned on the comforts 
 of their present residence. 
 
 " Pray, my lady," cried the captain, who had taken a chair 
 familiarly by the side of the baronet s wife, " why is the house 
 called the deanery ? I am afraid I shall be taken for a son 
 of the church, when I invite my friends to visit my father at 
 the deanery." 
 
 " But you may add, at the same time, sir, if you please," 
 dryly remarked Mr. Jarvis, " that it is occupied by an old 
 man, who has been preaching and lecturing all his life; and, 
 like others of the trade, I believe, in vain." 
 
 " You must except our good friend, the doctor here, at 
 
56 PRECAUTION. 
 
 least, sir," said Mrs. Wilson ; who, observing that her sistei 
 shrank from a familiarity she was unused to, took upon her- 
 felf the office of replying to the captain s question : " The 
 father of the present Sir William Harris held that station in 
 the church, and although the house was his private property, 
 it took its name from the circumstance, which has been con 
 tinued ever since." 
 
 " Is it not a droll life Sir William leads," cried Miss Jarvis, 
 looking at John Moseley, " riding about all summer from one 
 watering-place to another, and letting his house year after 
 year in the manner he does ?" 
 
 " Sir William," said Dr. Ives, gravely, "is devoted to his 
 laughter s wishes ; and since his accession to his title, has 
 3ome into possession of another residence in an adjoining 
 county, which, I believe, he retains in his own hands." 
 
 " Are you acquainted with Miss Harris ?" continued the 
 lady, addressing herself to Clara; though, without waiting 
 for an answer, she added, " She is a great belle all the gen 
 tlemen are flying for her. * 
 
 " Or her fortune," said her sister, with a pretty toss of the 
 head ; " for my part, I never could see anything so capti 
 vating in her, although so much is said about her at Bath 
 and Brighton." 
 
 " You know hr then," mildly observed Clara. 
 
 "Why, I cannot say we are exactly acquainted," the 
 young lady hesitatingly answered, coloring violently. 
 
 "What do you mean by exactly acquainted, Sally?" put 
 in the father with a laugh ; " did you ever speak to or were 
 you ever in a room with her, in your life, unless it might be 
 at a concert or a ball ?" 
 
 The mortification of Miss Sarah was too evident for con 
 cealment, and it happily was relieved by a summons to 
 dinner. 
 
PRECAUTION. 57 
 
 " Never, my dear child," said Mrs. Wilson to Emily, the 
 nunt being fond of introducing a moral from the occasional 
 incidents of every- day life, " never subject yourself to a simi 
 lar mortification, by commenting on the characters of those 
 you don t know : ignorance makes you liable to great errors ; 
 and if they should happen to be above you in life, it will only 
 excite then* contempt, should it reach their ears, while those 
 to whom your remarks are made will think it envy." 
 
 " Truth is sometimes blundered on," whispered John, who 
 held his sister s arm, waiting for his aunt to precede them to 
 the dining-room. 
 
 The merchant paid too great a compliment to the rector s 
 dinner to think of renewing the disagreeable conversation, and 
 as John Moseley and the young clergyman were seated next 
 the two ladies, they soon forgot what, among themselves, they 
 would call their father s rudeness, in receiving the attentions 
 of a couple of remarkably agreeable young men. 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Francis, when do you preach for us ?" asked 
 Mr. Haughton ; " I m very anxious to hear you hold forth 
 from the pulpit, where I have so often heard your father with 
 pleasure : I doubt not you will prove orthodox, or you will 
 be the only man, I believe, in the congregation, the rector has 
 left in ignorance of the theory of our religion, at least." 
 
 The doctor bowed to the compliment, as he replied to the 
 question for his son, that on the next Sunday they were to 
 have the pleasure of hearing Frank, who had promised to 
 assist him on that day. 
 
 " Any prospects of a living soon ?" continued Mr. Haugh 
 ton, helping himself bountifully to a piece of plum pudding 
 as he spoke. John Moseley laughed aloud, and Clara blushed 
 to the eyes, while the doctor, turning to Sir Edward, observed 
 with an air of interest, " Sir Edward, the living of Bolton is 
 vacant, and I should like exceedingly to obtain it for my son. 
 
 3* 
 
58 PRECAUTION. 
 
 The advowson belongs to the Earl, who will dispose of it ;taly 
 to great interest, I am afraid." 
 
 Clara was certainly too busily occupied in piclrwojg raisins 
 from her pudding to hear this remark, but accidentadly stole, 
 from under her long eyelashes, a timid glance at her father, 
 as he replied : 
 
 " I am sorry, my friend, I have not sufficient interest with 
 his lordship to apply on my own account ; but he is so seldom 
 here, we are barely acquainted ;" and the good baronet looked 
 really concerned. 
 
 " Clara," said Francis Ives in a low and affectionate tone, 
 " have you read the books I sent you ?" 
 
 Clara answered him with a smile in the negative, but pro 
 mised amendment as soon as she had leisure. 
 
 " Do you ride much on horseback, Mr. Moseley ?" abruptly 
 asked Miss Sarah, turning her back on the young divine, and 
 facing the gentleman she addressed. John, who was now 
 hemmed in between the sisters, replied with a rueful expres 
 sion that brought a smile into the face of Emily, who was 
 placed opposite to him 
 
 " Yes, ma am, and sometimes I am ridden." 
 
 " Ridden, sir, what do you mean by that ?" 
 
 " Oh ! only my aunt there occasionally gives me a lecture." 
 
 * I understand," said the lady, pointing slily with her finger 
 at her own father. 
 
 " Does it feel good ?" John inquired, with a look of great 
 sympathy. But the lady, who now felt awkwardly, without 
 knowing exactly why, shook her head in silence, and forced a 
 faint laugh. 
 
 "Whom have we here ?" cried Captain Jarvis, who was look 
 ing out at a window which commanded a view of the ap 
 proach to the house "the apothecary and his attendant, 
 judging from the equipage." 
 
PRECAUTION. 50 
 
 The rector threw an inquiring look on a servant, who told 
 his master they were strangers to him. 
 
 " Have them shown up, doctor," cried the benevolent ba 
 ronet, who loved to see every one as happy as himself, " and 
 give them some of your excellent pasty, for the sake of hos 
 pitality and the credit of your cook, I beg of you." 
 
 As this request was politely seconded by others of the 
 party, the rector ordered his servants to show in the stran 
 gers. 
 
 On opening the parlor door, a gentleman, apparently sixty 
 years of age, appeared, leaning on the arm of a youth of five- 
 and-twenty. There was sufficient resemblance between the 
 two for the most indifferent observer to pronounce them fa 
 ther and son ; but the helpless debility and emaciated figure 
 of the former, were finely contrasted by the vigorous health 
 and manly beauty of the latter, who supported his venerable 
 parent into the room with a grace and tenderness that struck 
 most of the beholders with a sensation of pleasure. The 
 doctor and Mrs. Ives rose from then* seats involuntarily, and 
 each stood for a moment, lost in an astonishment that was 
 mingled with grief. Recollecting himself, the rector grasped 
 the extended hand of the senior in both his own, and endea 
 vored to utter something, but in vain. The tears followed 
 each other down his cheeks, as he looked on the faded and 
 care-worn figure which stood before him ; while his wife, un 
 able to control her feelings, sank back into a chair and wept 
 aloud. 
 
 Throwing open the door of an adjoining room, and retain 
 ing the hand of the invalid, the doctor gently led the way, fol 
 lowed by his wife and son. The former, having recovered from 
 the first burst of her sorrow, and regardless of everything 
 else, now anxiously watched the enfeebled step of the stran 
 ger. On reaching the door, they both turned and bowed to 
 
60 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the company in a manner of so much dignity, mingled with 
 sweetness, that all, not excepting Mr. Benfield, rose from their 
 seats to return the salutation. On passing from the dining 
 parlor, the door was closed, leaving the company standing 
 round the table in mute astonishment and commiseration. 
 Not a word had been spoken, and the rector s family had left 
 them without apology or explanation. Francis, however, 
 soon returned, and was followed in a few minutes by his mo 
 ther, who, slightly apologizing for her absence, turned the 
 discourse on the approaching Sunday, and the intention of 
 Francis to preach on that day. The Moseleys were too well 
 bred to make any inquiries, and the deanery family was 
 afraid. Sir Edward retired at a very early hour, and was 
 followed by the remainder of the party. 
 
 "Well," cried Mrs. Jarvis, as they drove from the door, 
 " this may be good breeding, but, for my part, I think both 
 the doctor and Mrs. Ives behaved very rudely, with the 
 crying and sobbing.** 
 
 " They are nobody of much consequence," cried her eldest 
 daughter, casting a contemptuous glance on a plain travelling 
 chaise which stood before the rector s stables. 
 
 " Twas sickening," said Miss Sarah, with a shrug ; while 
 her father, turning his eyes on each speaker in succession, 
 very deliberately helped himself to a pinch of snuff, his ordi 
 nary recourse against a family quarrel. The curiosity of the 
 ladies was, however, more lively than they chose to avow ; 
 and Mrs. Jarvis bade her maid go over to the rectory that 
 evening, with her compliments to Mrs. Ives 5 she had lost a 
 lace veil, which her maid knew, and she thought it might 
 have been left at the rectory. 
 
 " And, Jones, when you are there, you can inquire of the 
 servants ; mind, of the servants I would not distress Mrs. 
 Ives for the world; how Mr. Mr. what s his name 
 
PRECAUTION. 61 
 
 Oh ! I have forgotten his name ; just bring me his name 
 too, Jones ; and, as it may make some difference in our party, 
 just find out how long they stay ; and and any other little 
 thing, Jones, which can be of use, you know." 
 
 Off went Jones, and within an hour she had returned. 
 With an important look, she commenced her narrative, the 
 daughters being accidentally present, and it might be on 
 purpose. 
 
 " Why, ma am, I went across the fields, and William was 
 good enough to go with me ; so when we got there, I rang, 
 and they showed us into the servants room, and I gave my 
 message, and the veil was not there. Why, ma am, there s 
 the veil now, on the back o that chair." 
 
 " Very well, very well, Jones, never mind the veil," cried 
 the impatient mistress. 
 
 " So, ma am, while they were looking for the veil, I just 
 asked one of the maids, what company had arrived, but" 
 (here Jones looked very suspicious, and shook her head omi 
 nously :) " would you think it, ma am, not a soul of them 
 knew ! But, ma am, there was the doctor and his son, pray 
 ing and reading with the old gentleman the whole time 
 and" 
 
 " And what, Jones ?" 
 
 " Why, ma am, I expect he has been a great sinner, or he 
 wouldn t want so much praying just as he is about to die." 
 
 " Die !" cried all three at once : will he die ?" 
 
 " yes," continued Jones, " they all agree he must die ; 
 but this praying so much, is just like the criminals. I m sure 
 no honest person needs so much praying, ma am." 
 
 " No, indeed," said the mother. " No, indeed," responded 
 the daughters, as they retired to their several rooms for the 
 night. 
 
62 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THERE is something in the season of Spring which pecu 
 liarly excites the feelings of devotion. The dreariness of 
 winter has passed, and with it, the deadened affections of our 
 nature. New life, new vigor, arises within us, as we walk 
 abroad and feel the genial gales of April breathe upon us ; 
 and our hopes, our wishes, awaken with the revival of the ve 
 getable world. It is then that the heart, which has been im 
 pressed with the goodness of the Creator, feels that goodness 
 brought, as it were, into very contact with the senses. The eye 
 loves to wander over the bountiful provisions nature is throw 
 ing forth in every direction for our comfort, and fixes its 
 gaze on the clouds, which, having lost the chilling thinness 
 of winter, roll in rich volumes, amidst the cleai; and softened 
 fields of azure so peculiar to the season, leading the mind in 
 sensibly to dwell on the things of another and a better world. 
 
 It was on such a day, that the inhabitants of B thronged 
 
 toward the Tillage church, for the double purpose of pouring 
 out their thanksgivings, and of hearing fhe first efforts of 
 their rector s son in the duties of his sacred calling. 
 
 Amongst the crowd whom curiosity or a better feeling had 
 drawn forth, were to be seen the flaring equipage of the Jar- 
 vises, and the handsome carriages of Sir Edward Moseley and 
 his sister. All the members of the latter family felt a lively 
 anxiety for the success of the young divine. But knowing, 
 as they well did, the strength of his native talents, the excel 
 lence of his education, and the fervor of his piety, it was an 
 anxiety that partook more of hape than of fear. There was 
 
PRECAUTION. 63 
 
 one heart, however, amongst them, that palpitated with an 
 emotion that hardly admitted of control, as they approached 
 the sacred edifice, for it had identified itself completely with 
 the welfare of the rector s son. There never was a softer, 
 truer heart, than that which now almost audibly beat within 
 the bosom of Clara Moseley ; and she had given it to the 
 young divine with all its purity and truth. 
 
 The entrance of a congregation into the sanctuary will at 
 all times furnish, to an attentive observer, food for much 
 useful speculation, if it be chastened with a proper charity 
 for the weaknesses of others ; and most people are ignorant 
 of the insight they are giving into their characters and dispo 
 sitions, by such an apparently trivial circumstance as their 
 weekly approach to the tabernacles of the Lord. Christi 
 anity, while it chastens and amends the heart, leaves the 
 natural powers unaltered ; and it cannot be doubted that its 
 operation is, or ought to be, proportionate to the abilities and 
 opportunities of the subject of its holy impression "Unto 
 whomsoever much is given, much will be required." While 
 we acknowledge, that the thoughts might be better employed 
 in preparing for those humiliations of the spirit and thanks 
 giving of the heart which are required of all, and are so 
 necessary to all, we must be indulged in a hasty view of some 
 of the personages of our history, as they entered the church 
 of B . 
 
 On the countenance of the baronet, was the dignity and 
 composure of a mind at peace with itself and mankind. His 
 step was rather more deliberate than common ; his eye rested 
 on the pavement, and on turning into his pew, as he prepared 
 to kneel, in the first humble petition of our beautiful service, 
 he raised it towards the altar with an expression of benev<> 
 lence and reverence, that spoke contentment, not unmixed 
 with faith. 
 
64 PRECAUWOff. 
 
 In the demeanor of Lady Moseley, all was graceful and 
 decent, while nothing could be properly said to be studied. 
 She followed her husband with a step of equal deliberation, 
 though it was slightly varied by a manner which, while it 
 appeared natural to herself, might have been artificial in 
 another : a cambric handkerchief concealed her face as she 
 sank composedly by the side of Sir Edward, in a style which 
 showed, that while she remembered her Maker, she had not 
 entirely forgotten herself. 
 
 The walk of Mrs. Wilson was quicker than that of her 
 sister. Her eye, directed before her, was fixed, as if in settled 
 gaze, on that eternity which she was approaching. The lines 
 of her contemplative face were unaltered, unless there might 
 be traced a deeper shade of humility than was ordinarily seen 
 on her pale, but expressive countenance: her petition was 
 long ; and on rising" from her humble posture, the person 
 was indeed to be seen, but the soul appeared absorbed in 
 contemplations beyond the limits of this sphere. 
 
 There was a restlessness and varying of color, in the 
 ordinarily placid Clara, which prevented a display of her 
 usual manner; while Jane walked gracefully, and with a 
 tincture of her mother s manner, by her side. She stole one 
 hastily withdrawn glance to the deanery pew ere she kneeled, 
 and then, on rising, handed her smelling-bottle affectionately 
 to her elder sister. 
 
 Emily glided behind her companions with a face beaming 
 with a look of innocence and love. As she sank in the act 
 of supplication, the rich glow of her healthful cheek lost some 
 of its brilliancy ; but, on rising, it beamed with a renewed 
 lustre, that plainly indicated a heart touched with the sanctity 
 :>f its situation. 
 
 In the composed and sedate manner of Mr. Jarvis, as he 
 bteadily pursued his way to the pew of Sir William Harris, 
 
PRECAUTION. 65 
 
 you might have been justified in expecting the entrance of 
 another Sir Edward Moseley in substance, if not in externals. 
 But the deliberate separation of the flaps of his coat, as he 
 comfortably seated himself, when you thought him about to 
 kneel, followed by a pinch of snuff as he threw his eye 
 around the building, led you at once to conjecture, that what 
 at first had been mistaken for reverence, was the abstraction 
 of some earthly calculation ; and that his attendance was in 
 compliance with custom, and not a little depended upon the 
 thickness of his cushions, and the room he found for the 
 disposition of two rather unwieldy legs. 
 
 The ladies of the family followed, in garments carefully 
 selected for the advantageous display of their persons. As 
 they sailed into their seats, where it would seem the improvi 
 dence of Sir William s steward had neglected some important 
 accommodation (some time being spent in preparation to be 
 seated), the old lady, whose size and flesh really put kneeling 
 out of the question, bent forward for a moment at an angle 
 of eighty with the horizon, while her daughters prettily bowed 
 their heads, with all proper precaution for the safety of their 
 superb millinery. 
 
 At length the rector, accompanied by his son, appeared 
 from the vestry. There was a dignity and solemnity in the 
 manner in which this pious divine entered on the duties of 
 his profession, which disposed the heart to listen with reve 
 rence and humility to precepts that were accompanied with 
 so impressive an exterior. T^he stillness of expectation per 
 vaded the church, when the pew opener led the way to the 
 same interesting father and son whose entrance had inter 
 rupted the guests the preceding day, at the rectory. Every 
 eye was turned on the emaciated parent, bending into tha 
 grave, and, as it were, kept from it by the supporting tender- 
 ness of his child. Hastily throwing open the door of hej 
 
66 PRECAUTION. 
 
 own pew, Mrs. Ives buried her face in her handkerchief ; and 
 her husband had proceeded far in the morning service before 
 she raised it again to the view of the congregation. Jn the 
 voice of the rector, there was an unusual softness and tremor 
 that his people attributed to the feelings of a father about to 
 witness the first efforts of an only child, but which in reality 
 were owing to another and a deeper cause. 
 
 Prayers were ended, and the younger Ives ascended the 
 pulpit. For a moment he paused ; when, casting an anxious 
 glance to the pew of the baronet, he commenced his sermon. 
 He had chosen for his discourse the necessity of placing our 
 dependence on divine grace. After having learnedly, but in 
 the most unaffected manner, displayed the necessity of this 
 dependence, as derived from revelation, he proceeded to paint 
 the hope, the resignation, the felicity of a Christian s death 
 bed. Warmed by the subject, his animation soon lent a 
 heightened interest to his language : and at a moment when 
 all around him were entranced by the eloquence of the 
 youthful divine, a sudden and deep-drawn sigh drew every 
 eye to the rector s pew. The younger stranger sat motionless 
 as a statue, holding in his arms the lifeless body of his 
 parent, who had fallen that moment a corpse by his side. 
 All was now confusion : the almost insensible young man 
 was relieved from his burden ; and, led by the rector, they 
 left the church. The congregation dispersed in silence, or 
 assembled in little groups, to converse on the awful event 
 they had witnessed. None knew the deceased ; he was the 
 rector s friend, and to his residence the body was removed. 
 The young man was evidently his child ; but here all infor 
 mation ended. They had arrived in a private chaise, but 
 with post horses, and without attendants. Their arrival at 
 the parsonage was detailed by the Jarvis ladies with a few 
 exaggerations that gave additional interest *o the whole event, 
 
PRECAUTION. 67 
 
 and which, by creating an impression with some whom 
 gentler feelings would not have restrained, that there was 
 something of mystery about them, prevented many distress 
 ing questions to the Ives s, that the baronet s family forbore 
 
 putting, on the score of delicacy. The body left B at 
 
 the close of the week, accompanied by Francis Ives and the 
 unweariedly attentive and interesting son. The doctor and 
 his wife went into deep mourning, and Clara received a short 
 note from her lover, on the morning of their departure, 
 acquainting her with his intended absence for a month, but 
 throwing no light upon the affair. The London papers, how 
 ever, contained the following obituary notice, and which, as 
 it could refer to no other person, as a matter of course, was 
 supposed to allude to the rector s friend. 
 
 " Died, suddenly, at B , on the 20th instant, George 
 
 Denbigh, Esq., aged 63." 
 
68 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 DURING the week of mourning, the intercourse between 
 Moseley Hall and the rectory was confined to messages and 
 notes of inquiry after each other s welfare : but the visit of 
 the Moseleys to the deanery had been returned ; and the day 
 after the appearance of the obituary paragraph, the family of 
 the latter dined by invitation at the Hall. Colonel Egerton 
 had recovered the use of his leg, and was included in the 
 party. Between this gentleman and Mr. Benfield there 
 appeared, from the first moment of their introduction, a 
 repugnance which was rather increased by time, and which 
 the old gentleman manifested by a demeanor loaded with the 
 overstrained ceremony of the day, and which, in the colonel, 
 only showed itself by avoiding, when possible, all intercourse 
 with the object of his aversion. Both Sir Edward and Lady 
 Moseley, on the contrary, were not slow in manifesting their 
 favorable impressions in behalf of the gentleman. The latter, 
 in particular, having ascertained to her satisfaction that he 
 was the undoubted heir to the title, and most probably to the 
 estates of his uncle, Sir Edgar Egerton, felt herself strongly 
 disposed to encourage an acquaintance she found so agree 
 able, and to which she could see no reasonable objection. 
 Captain Jarvis, who was extremely offensive to her, from his 
 vulgar familiarity, she barely tolerated, from the necessity of 
 being civil, and keeping up sociability in the neighborhood. 
 It is true, she could not help being surprised that a gentleman, 
 as polished as the colonel, could find any pleasure in an 
 associate like his friend, or even in the hardly more softened 
 
PRECAUTION. 69 
 
 females of his family ; then again, the flattering suggestion 
 would present itself, that possibly he might have seen Emily 
 at Bath, or Jane elsewhere, and availed himself of the 
 acquaintance of young Jarvis to get into their neighborhood. 
 Lady Moseley had never been vain, or much interested about 
 the disposal of her own person, previously to her attachment 
 to her husband : but her daughters called forth not a little 
 of her natural pride we had almost said of her selfishness. 
 
 The attentions of the colonel were of the most delicate and 
 insinuating kind ; and Mrs. Wilson several times turned away 
 in displeasure at herself, for listening with too much satisfac 
 tion to nothings, uttered in an agreeable manner, or, what 
 was worse, false sentiments supported with the gloss of lan 
 guage and a fascinating deportment. The anxiety of this 
 lady on behalf of Emily kept her ever on the alert, when 
 chance, or any chain of circumstances, threw her in the way 
 of forming new connexions of any kind ; and of late, as her 
 charge approached the period of life her sex were apt to make 
 that choice from which there is no retreat, her solicitude to 
 examine the characters of the men who approached her was 
 really painful. As to Lady Moseley, her wishes disposed her 
 to be easily satisfied, and her mind naturally shrank from an 
 investigation to which she felt herself unequal; while Mrs. 
 Wilson was governed by the convictions of a sound discretion, 
 matured by long and deep reasoning, all acting on a temper 
 at all times ardent, and a watchfulness calculated to endure 
 to the end. 
 
 * Pray, my lady," said Mrs. Jarvis, with a look of some 
 thing like importance, " have you made any discovery about 
 this Mr. Denbigh, who died in the church lately ?" 
 
 " I did not know, ma am," replied Lady Moseley, " there 
 was any discovery to be made." 
 
 " You know, Lady Moseley," said Colonel Egerton, " that 
 
PRECAUTION. 
 
 in town, all the little accompaniments of such a melancholy 
 death would have found their way into the prints and I 
 suppose this is what Mrs. Jarvis alludes to." 
 
 " Oh yes," cried Mrs. Jarvis, " the colonel is right." But 
 the colonel was always right with that lady. 
 
 Lady Moseley bowed her head with dignity, and the 
 colonel had too much tact to pursue the conversation ; but 
 the captain, whom nothing had ever yet abashed, exclaimed, 
 
 " These Denbighs could not be people of much importance 
 I have never heard the name before." 
 
 " It is the family name of the Duke of Derwent, I believe," 
 dryly remarked Sir Edward. 
 
 " Oh, I am sure neither the old man nor his son looked 
 much like a duke, or so much as an officer either," exclaimed 
 Mrs. Jarvis, who thought the latter rank the dignity in degree 
 next below nobility. 
 
 " There sat, in the parliament of this realm, when I was a 
 member, a General Denbigh," said Mr. Benfield, with his 
 usual deliberation ; " he was always on the same side with 
 Lord Gosford and myself. He and his friend, Sir Peter 
 Howell, who was the admiral that took the French squadron, 
 in the glorious administration of Billy Pitt, and afterwards 
 took an island with this same General Denbigh : aye, the old 
 admiral was a hearty blade ; a good deal such a looking man 
 as my Hector would make." 
 
 Hector was Mr. Benfield s bull- dog. 
 
 " Mercy," whispered John to Clara, " that s your grand 
 father that is to be uncle Benfield is speaking of." 
 
 Clara smiled, as she ventured to say, " Sir Peter was Mrs. 
 Ives s father, sir." 
 
 " Indeed !" said the old gentleman, with a look of surprise 
 " I never knew that before ; 1 cannot say they resemble each 
 other much." 
 
PRECAUTION. 71 
 
 "Pray, uncle, does Frank look much like the family?" 
 asked John, with an air of unconquerable gravity. 
 
 " But, sir," interrupted Emily, " were General Denbigh and 
 Admiral Howell related ?" 
 
 " Not that I ever knew, Emmy dear. Sir Frederick Den 
 bigh did not look much like the admiral ; he rather resembled 
 (gathering himself up into an air of formality, and bowing 
 stiffly to Colonel Egerton) this gentleman, here." 
 
 " I have not the honor of the connexion," observed the 
 colonel, withdrawing behind the chair of Jane. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson changed the conversation to one more general ; 
 but the little that had fallen from Mr. Benfield gave reason 
 for believing a connexion, in some way of which they 
 ignorant, existed between the descendants of the two veterans, 
 and which explained the interest they felt in each other. . 
 
 During dinner, Colonel Egerton placed himself next to 
 Emily, and Miss Jarvis took the chair on the other side. He 
 spoke of the gay world, of watering-places, novels, plays, and 
 still finding his companion reserved, and either unwilling or 
 unable to talk freely, he tried his favorite sentiment. He had 
 read poetry, and a remark of his lighted up a spark of intelli 
 gence in the beautiful face of his companion that for a moment 
 deceived him ; but as he went on to point out his favorite 
 beauties, it gave place to a settled composure, which at last 
 led him to imagine the casket contained no gem equal to the 
 promise of its brilliant exterior. After resting from one of 
 his most labored displays of feeling and imagery, he acci 
 dentally caught the eyes of Jane fastened on him with an 
 expression of no dubious import, and the soldier changed his 
 battery. In Jane he found a more willing auditor ; poetry 
 was the food she lived on, and in works of the imagination 
 she found her greatest delight. An animated discussion of 
 the merits of their favorite authors now took place ; to renew 
 
72 PRECAUTION. 
 
 which, the colonel early left the dining-room for the society 
 of the ladies ; John, who disliked drinking excessively, being 
 happy of an excuse to attend him. 
 
 The younger ladies had clustered together round a window ; 
 and even Emily in her heart rejoiced that the gentlemen had 
 come to relieve herself and sisters from the arduous task of 
 entertaining women who appeared not to possess a single 
 taste or opinion in common with themselves. 
 
 " You were saying, Miss Moseley," observed the colonel in 
 his most agreeable manner, as he approached them, " you 
 thought Campbell the most musical poet we have ; I hope 
 you will unite with me in excepting Moore." 
 ^ Jane colored, as with some awkwardness she replied, 
 " Moore was certainly very poetical." 
 
 " lias Moore written much ?" innocently asked Emily. 
 
 " Not half as much as he ought," cried Miss Jarvis. "Oh! 
 I could live on his beautiful lines." 
 
 Jane turned away in disgust ; and that evening, while 
 alone with Clara, she took a volume of Moore s songs, and 
 very coolly consigned them to the flames. Her sister natu 
 rally asked an explanation of so extraordinary a procedure. 
 
 " Oh ! cried Jane, " I can t abide the book, since that 
 vulgar Miss Jarvis speaks of it with so much interest. I really 
 believe aunt Wilson is right in not suffering Emily to read 
 such things." And Jane, who had often devoured the 
 treacherous lines with ardor, shrank with fastidious delicacy 
 from the indulgence of a perverted taste, when it became 
 exposed, coupled with the vulgarity of unblushing audacity. 
 
 Colonel Egerton immediately changed the subject to one 
 less objectionable, and spoke of a campaign he had made in 
 Spain. He possessed the happy faculty of giving an interest 
 to all he advanced, whether true or not ; and as he never 
 contradicted, or even opposed unless to yield gracefully, when 
 
PRECAUTION. 73 
 
 a lady was his opponent, his conversation insensibly attracted, 
 by putting the sex in good humor with themselves. Such a 
 man, aided by the powerful assistants of person and manners, 
 and no inconsiderable colloquial talents, Mrs. Wilson knew to 
 be extremely dangerous as a companion to a youthful female 
 heart ; and as his visit was to extend to a couple of months, 
 she resolved to reconnoitre the state of her pupil s opinion 
 forthwith in reference to his merits. She had taken too 
 much pains in forming the mind of Emily to apprehend she 
 would fall a victim to the eye ; but she also knew that per 
 sonal grace sweetened a benevolent expression, and added 
 force even to the oracles of wisdom. She labored a little 
 herself under the disadvantage of what John called a didactic 
 manner, and which, although she had not the ability, <rf 
 rather taste, to amend, she had yet the sense to discern. It 
 was the great error of Mrs. Wilson to attempt to convince, 
 where she might have influenced ; but her ardor of tempera 
 ment, and great love of truth, kept her, as it were, tilting with 
 the vices of mankind, and consequently sometimes in unpro 
 fitable combat. With her charge, however, this could never 
 be said to be the case, Emily knew her heart, felt her love, 
 and revered her principles too deeply, to throw away an 
 admonition, or disregard a precept, that fell from lips she 
 knew never spoke idly or without consideration. 
 
 John had felt tempted to push the conversation with Miss 
 Jarvis, and he was about to utter something rapturous 
 respecting the melodious poison of Little s poems, as the blue 
 eye of Emily rested on him in the fulness of sisterly affection, 
 and checking his love of the ridiculous, he quietly yielded to 
 his respect for the innocence of his sisters ; and, as if eager 
 to draw the attention of all from the hateful subject, he put 
 question after question to Egerton concerning the Spaniards 
 and their customs. 
 
 4 
 
74 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Did you ever meet Lord Pendennyss in Spain, Colonel 
 Egerton ?" inquired Mrs. Wilson, with interest. 
 
 " Never, madam," he replied. " I have much reason to 
 regret that our service lay in different parts of the country ; 
 his lordship was much with the duke, and I made the cam 
 paign under Marshal Beresford." 
 
 Emily left the group at the window, and taking a seat on 
 the sofa by the side of her aunt, insensibly led her to forget 
 the gloomy thoughts which had begun to steal over her; 
 which the colonel, approaching where they sat, continued, by 
 asking 
 
 " Are you acquainted with the earl, madam ?" 
 
 " Not in person, but by character," said Mrs. Wilson, in a 
 melancholy manner. 
 
 " His character as a soldier was very high. He had no 
 superior of his years in Spain, I am told." 
 
 No reply was made to this remark, and Emily endeavored 
 anxiously to draw the mind of her aunt to reflections of a more 
 agreeable nature. The colonel, whose vigilance to please 
 was ever on the alert, kindly aided her, and they soon suc 
 ceeded. 
 
 The merchant withdrew, with his family and guest, in 
 proper season : and Mrs. Wilson, heedful of her duty, took 
 the opportunity of a quarter of an hour s privacy in her own 
 dressing-room in the evening, to touch gently on the subject 
 of the gentlemen they had seen that day. 
 
 " How are you pleased, Emily, with your new acquaint 
 ances ?" familiarly commenced Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 " Oh ! aunt, don t ask me ; as John says, they are new 
 indeed." 
 
 " I am not sorry," continued the aunt, lt to have you ob 
 serve more closely than you have been used to the manners 
 of such women as the Jarvises ; they are too abrupt <md 
 
PRECAUTION. 75 
 
 unpleasant to create a dread of any imitation ; but the gen 
 tlemen are heroes in very different styles." 
 
 " Different from each other, indeed." 
 
 " To which do you give the preference, my dear ?" 
 
 " Preference, aunt !" said her niece, with a look of asto 
 nishment ; " preference is a strong word for either ; but I 
 rather think the captain the most eligible companion of the 
 two. I do believe you see the worst of him ; and although 
 I acknowledge it to be bad enough, he might amend ; but the 
 colonel" 
 
 " Go on," said Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 " Why, everything about the colonel seems so seated, so 
 ingrafted in his nature, so so very self-satisfied, that I am 
 afraid it would be a difficult task to take the first step in 
 amendment to convince him of its necessity ? 
 
 " And is it then so necessary ?" 
 
 Emily looked up from arranging some laces, with an ex 
 pression of surprise, ass he replied : 
 
 ;< Did you not hear him talk of those poems, and attempt 
 to point out the beauties of several works ? I thought every 
 thing he uttered was referred to taste, and that not a very 
 natural one ; at least," she added with a laugh, " it differed 
 greatly from mine. He seemed to forget altogether there 
 was such a thing as principle : and then he spoke of some 
 woman to Jane, who had left her father for her lover, with so 
 much admiration of her feelings, to take up with poverty and 
 love, as he called it, in place of condemning her want of filial 
 piety I am sure, aunt, if you had heard that, you would not 
 admire him so much." 
 
 " I do not admire him at all, child; I only want to know 
 your sentiments, and I am happy to find them so correct. It 
 is as you think ; Colonel Egerton appears to refer nothing to 
 principle : even the more generous feelings I am afraid are 
 
76 PRECAUTION. 
 
 corrupted in him, from too low intercourse with the surface 
 of society. There is by far too much pliability about him for 
 principle of any kind, unless indeed it be a principle to please, 
 no matter how. No one, who has deeply seated opinions of 
 right and wrong, will ever abandon them, even in the courte 
 sies of polite intercourse : they may be silent but never acqui 
 escent : in short, my dear, the dread of offending our Maker 
 ought to be so superior to that of offending our fellow crea 
 tures, that we should endeavor, I believe, to be even more 
 unbending to the follies of the world than we are." 
 
 " And yet the colonel is what they call a good companion 
 I mean a pleasant one." 
 
 " In the ordinary meaning of the words, he is certainly, my 
 dear ; yet you soon tire of sentiments which will not stand 
 the test of examination, and of a manner you cannot but see 
 is artificial. He may do very well for a companion, but very 
 ill for a friend ; in short, Colonel Egerton has neither been 
 satisfied to yield to his natural impressions, nor to obtain new 
 ones from a proper source ; he has copied from bad models, 
 and his work must necessarily be imperfect." 
 
 Kissing her niece, Mrs. Wilson then retired into her own 
 room, with the happy assurance that she had not labored in 
 vain ; but that, with divine aid, she had implanted a guide in 
 the bosom of her charge that could not fail, with ordinary 
 care, to lead her straight through the devious path of female 
 duties* 
 
PRECAUTION. 77 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A MONTH now passed in the ordinary occupations and 
 amusements of a country life, during which both Lady 
 Moseley and Jane manifested a desire to keep up the deanery 
 acquaintance, that surprised Emily a little, who had ever seen 
 her mother shrink from communications with those whose 
 breeding subjected her own delicacy to the little shocks she 
 could but ill conceal. In Jane this desire was still more in 
 explicable ; for Jane had, in a decided way very common to 
 her, avowed her disgust of the manners of then* new associ 
 ates at the commencement of the acquaintance ; and yet Jane 
 would now even quit her own society for that of Miss Jarvis, 
 especially if Colonel Egerton happened to be of the party 
 The innocence of Emily prevented her scanning the motives 
 for the conduct of her sister ; and she set seriously about an 
 examination into her own deportment to find the latent cause, 
 in order, wherever an opportunity should offer, to evince her 
 regret, had it been her misfortune to have erred by the ten- 
 derness of her own manner. 
 
 For a short time the colonel seemed at a loss where to make 
 his choice ; but a few days determined him, and Jane was 
 evidently the favorite. It is true, that in the presence of the 
 Jarvis ladies he was more guarded and general in his atten 
 tions ; but as John, from a motive of charity, had taken the 
 direction of the captain s sports into his own hands ; and as 
 they were in the frequent habit of meeting at the Hall pre 
 paratory to their morning excursion, the colonel suddenly 
 became a sportsman. The ladies would often accompany 
 
78 PRECAUTION. 
 
 them in their morning excursions ; and as John would cer 
 tainly be a baronet, and the colonel might not if his uncle 
 married, he had the comfort of being sometimes ridden, as 
 well as of riding. 
 
 One morning, having all prepared for an excursion on 
 horseback, as they stood at the door ready to mount, Francis 
 Ives drove up in his father s gig, and for a moment arrested 
 the party. Francis was a favorite with the whole Mose- 
 ley family, and their greetings were warm and sincere. He 
 found they meant to take the rectory in their ride, and in- 
 that they should proceed. " Clara would take a seal 
 with him." As he spoke, the cast of his countenance brought 
 the color into the cheeks of his intended ; she suffered herself, 
 however, to be handed into the vacant seat in the gig, and 
 they moved on. John, who was at the bottom good-natured, 
 and loved both Francis and Clara very sincerely, soon set 
 Captain Jarvis and his sister what he called " scrub racing, * 
 and necessity, in some measure, compelled the rest of the 
 equestrians to hard riding, in order to keep up with the 
 sports. 
 
 " That will do, that will do," cried John, casting his eye 
 back, and perceiving they had lost sight of the gig, and nearly 
 so of Colonel Egerton and Jane, " why you -carry it off like a 
 jockey, captain ; better than any amateur I have ever seen, 
 unless indeed it be your sister." 
 
 The lady, encouraged by his commendations, whipped on, 
 followed by her brother and sister at half speed. 
 
 " There, Emily," said John, quietly dropping by her side 
 u I see no reason you and I should break our necks, to sho^ 
 the blood of our horses. Now do you know I think we are 
 going to have a wedding in the family soon ?" 
 
 Emily looked at him in amazement. 
 
 " Fmnk has got a living ; I saw it the moment he drove 
 
PRECAUTION. 79 
 
 up. He came in like somebody. Yes, I dare say he has 
 calculated the tithes already a dozen times." 
 
 John was right. The Earl of Bolton had, unsolicited, 
 given him the desired living of his own parish ; and Francis 
 was at the moment pressing the blushing Clara to fix the day 
 that was to put a period to his long probation. Clara, who 
 had not a particle of coquetry about her, promised to be his 
 as soon as he was inducted, an event that was to take place 
 the following week ; and then followed those delightful little 
 arrangements and plans with which youthful hope is so fond 
 of filling up the void of life. 
 
 u Doctor," said John, as he came out of the rectory to 
 assist Clara from the gig, " the parson here is a careful driver ; 
 see, he has not turned a hair." 
 
 He kissed the burning cheek of his sister as she touched 
 the ground, and whispered significantly. 
 
 " You need tell me nothing, my dear 1 know all I con 
 sent." 
 
 Mrs. Ives folded her future daughter to her bosom ; and the 
 benevolent smile of the good rector, together with the kind 
 and affectionate manner of her sisters, assured Clara the ap 
 proaching nuptials were anticipated, as a matter of course. 
 Colonel Egerton offered his compliments to Francis on his 
 preferment to the living, with the polish of high breeding, 
 and not without an appearance of interest ; and Emily thought 
 him for the first time as handsome as he was generally reput 
 ed to be. The ladies undertook to say something civil in 
 their turn, and John put the captain, by a hint, on the same 
 track. 
 
 " You are quite lucky, sir," said the captain, "in getting 
 so good a living with so little trouble ; I wish you joy of it 
 with all my heart : Mr. Moseley tells me it is a capital thing 
 \iow for a gentleman of your profession. For my part I 
 
80 PRECAUTION. 
 
 prefer a scarlet coat to a bl?ck one, but there must be par 
 sons you know, or how should we get married or say 
 grace ?" 
 
 Francis thanked him for his good wishes, and Egerton paid 
 a handsome compliment to the liberality of the earl ; " he 
 doubted not he found that gratification which always attends 
 a disinterested act ;" and Jane applauded the sentiment with 
 a smile. 
 
 The baronet, when he was made acquainted with the situ 
 ation of affairs, promised Francis that no unnecessary delay 
 should intervene, and the marriage was happily arranged for 
 the following week. Lady Moseley, when she retired to the 
 drawing-room after dinner, commenced a recital of the cere 
 mony and company to be invited on the occasion* Etiquette 
 and the decencies of life were not only the forte, but the 
 fault of this lady ; and she had gone on to the enumeration 
 of about the fortieth personage in the ceremonials, before 
 Clara found courage to say, that " Mr. Ives and myself both 
 wish to be married at the altar, and to proceed to Bolton 
 Rectory immediately after the ceremony." To this her mo 
 ther warmly objected ; and argument and respectful remon 
 strance had followed each other for some time, before Clara 
 submitted, in silence, with difficulty restraining her tears. 
 This appeal to the better feelings of the mother triumphed ; 
 and the love of parade yielded to love of her offspring. Clara, 
 with a lightened heart, kissed and thanked her, and accom 
 panied by Emily left the room ; Jane had risen to follow 
 them, but catching a glimpse of the tilbury of Colonel Eger 
 ton she re-seated herself. 
 
 He had merely driven over at the earnest entreaties of the 
 ladies to beg Miss Jane would accept a seat back with him ; 
 * they had some little project on foot, and could not proceed 
 without her assistance." 
 
PRECAUTION. 81 
 
 Mrs. Wilson looked gravely at her sister, as she smiled 
 acquiescence to his wishes ; and the daughter, who but the 
 minute before had forgotten there was any other person in 
 the world but Clara, flew for her hat and shawl, in order, as 
 she said to herself, that the politeness of Colonel Egerton 
 might not keep him waiting. Lady Moseley resumed her 
 seat by the side of her sister Avith an air of great compla 
 cency, as she returned from the window, after having seen her 
 daughter off. For some time each was occupied quietly with 
 her needle, Avhen Mrs. Wilson suddenly broke the silence by 
 saying : 
 
 " Who is Colonel Egerton ?" 
 
 Lady Moseley looked up for a moment in amazement, but 
 recollecting herself, answered, 
 
 " The nephew and heir of Sir Edgar Egerton, sister." 
 
 This was spoken in a rather positive way, as if it were un- 
 answerable ; yet as there was nothing harsh in the reply, Mrs. 
 Wilson continued, 
 
 " Do you not think him attentiA T e to Jane ?" 
 
 Pleasure sparkled in the still brilliant eyes of Lady Moseley, 
 as she exclaimed 
 
 " Do you think so ?" 
 
 "I do ; and you will pardon me if I say improperly so. I 
 think you were wrong in suffering Jane to go with him this 
 afternoon." 
 
 " Why improperly, Charlotte ? If Colonel Egerton is polite 
 enough to show Jane such attentions, should I not b wrong 
 in rudely rejecting them ?" 
 
 " The rudeness of refusing a request that is improper to 
 grant is a very venial offence. I confess I think it improper 
 to allow any attentions to be forced on us that may subject 
 us to disagreeable consequences; but the attentions of 
 Colonel Egerton are becoming marked, Anne." 
 
 4* 
 

 82 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Do you for a moment doubt their being honorable, or 
 that he dares to trifle with a daughter of Sir Edward 
 Moseley?" 
 
 " I should hope noi, certainly, although it may be well to 
 guard even against such a misfortune. But I am of opinion 
 it is quite as important to know whether he is worthy to be 
 her husband as it is to know that he is ia a situation to 
 become so." 
 
 " On what points, Charlotte, would you wish to be more 
 assured ? You know his birth and probable fortune you 
 see his manners and disposition ; but these latter are things 
 for Jane to decide on ; she is to live with him, and it is proper 
 she should be suited in these respects." 
 
 " I do not deny his fortune or his disposition, but I com 
 plain that we give him credit for the last, and for still more 
 important requisites, without evidence of his possessing any 
 of them. His principles, his habits, his very character, what 
 do we know of them ? I say we, for you know, Anne, your 
 children are as dear to me as my own would have been." 
 
 " I believe you sincerely, but the things you mention are 
 points for Jane to decide on. If she be pleased, I have no 
 right to complain. I am determined never to control the 
 affections of my children." 
 
 " Had you said, never to force the affections of your chil 
 dren, you would have said enough, Anne ; but to control, or 
 rather to guide the affections of a child, especially a daughter, 
 is, in some cases, a duty as imperative as it would be to avert 
 any other impending calamity. Surely the proper time to do 
 this is before the affections of the child are likely to endanger 
 her peace of mind." 
 
 " I have seldom seen much good result from the inter 
 ference of parents," said Lady Moseley, a little pertinaciously. 
 
 " True ; for to be of use, unless in extraordinary cases, it 
 
PRECAUTION. 83 
 
 snould not be seen. You will pardon me, Anne, but I have 
 often thought parents are too often in extremes determined 
 to make the election for then- children, or leaving them 
 entirely to their own vanity and inexperience, to govern not 
 only their own lives, but, I may say, to leave an impression 
 on future generations. And, after all, what is this love? 
 In nineteen cases in twenty of what we call affairs of the 
 heart, it would be better to term them affairs of the ima 
 gination." 
 
 " And is there not a great deal of imagination in all love?" 
 inquired Lady Moseley, smiling. 
 
 " Undoubtedly, there is some ; but there is one important 
 difference: in affairs of the imagination, the admired object is 
 gifted with all those qualities we esteem, as a matter of 
 course, and there is a certain set of females who are ever 
 ready to bestow this admiration on any applicant for their 
 favors who may not be strikingly objectionable. The neces 
 sity of being courted makes our sex rather too much disposed 
 to admire improper suitors." 
 
 " But how do you distinguish affairs of the heart, Char 
 lotte, from those of the fancy ?" 
 
 " When the heart takes the lead, it is not difficult to detect 
 it. Such sentiments generally follow long intercourse, and 
 opportunities of judging the real character. They are the 
 only attachments that are likely to stand the test of worldly 
 trials." 
 
 " Suppose Emily to be the object of Colonel Egerton s 
 pursuit, then, sister, in what manner would you proceed to 
 destroy the influence I acknowledge he is gaining over 
 Jane?" 
 
 " I cannot suppose such a case," said Mrs. Wilson, gravely; 
 and then, observing that her sister looked as if she required 
 an explanation, she continued 
 
84 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " My attention has been directed to the forming of such 
 principles, and such a taste, if I may use the expression, under 
 those principles, that I feel no apprehension Emily will ever 
 allow her affections to be ensnared by a man of the opinions 
 and views of Colonel Egerton. I am impressed with a two 
 fold duty in watching the feelings of my charge. She has 
 so much singleness of heart, such real strength of native feel 
 ing, that, should an improper man gain possession of her 
 affections, the struggle between her duty and her love would 
 be weighty indeed ; and should it proceed so far as to make 
 it her duty to love an unworthy object, I am sure she would 
 sink under it. Emily would die in the same circumstances 
 under which Jane would only awake from a dream, and be 
 wretched." 
 
 " I thought you entertained a better opinion of Jane, 
 sister," said Lady Moseley, reproachfully. 
 .- " I think her admirably calculated to make an invaluable 
 wife and mother ; but she is so much under the influence of 
 her fancy, that she seldom gives her heart an opportunity of 
 displaying its excellences; and again, she dwells so much 
 upon imaginary perfections, that adulation has become 
 necessary to her. The man who flatters her delicately will 
 be sure to win her esteem ; and every woman might love the 
 being possessed of the qualities she will not fail to endow him 
 with." 
 
 " I do not know that I rightly understand how you would 
 avert all these sad consequences of improvident affections V 
 said Lady Moseley. 
 
 "Prevention is better than cure I would first implant 
 such opinions as would lessen the danger of intercourse ; and 
 as for particular attentions from improper objects, it should 
 be my care to prevent them, by prohibiting, or rather 
 impeding, the intimacy which might give rise to them. And, 
 
PRECAUTION. 85 
 
 least of all," said Mrs. Wilson, with a friendly smile, as she 
 rose to leave the room, "would I suffer a fear of being 
 impolite to endanger the happiness of a young woman 
 intrusted to my care." 
 
86 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FRANCIS, who labored with the ardor of a lover, soon 
 completed the necessary arrangements and alterations in his 
 new parsonage. The living was a good one, and as the rector 
 was enabled to make a very considerable annual allowance 
 from the private fortune his wife had brought him, and as Sir 
 Edward had twenty thousand pounds in the funds for each of 
 his daughters, one portion of which was immediately settled 
 on Clara, the youthful couple had not only a sufficient, but an 
 abundant provision for then* station in life ; and they entered 
 on their matrimonial duties with as good a prospect of hap 
 piness as the ills of this world can give to health, affection, 
 and competency. Their union had been deferred by Dr, 
 Ives until his son was established, with a view to keep him 
 under his own direction during the critical period of his first 
 impressions in the priesthood ; and as no objection now re 
 mained, or rather, the only one he ever felt was removed by 
 the proximity of Bolton to his own parish, he now joyfully 
 united the lovers at the altar of the village church, in the 
 presence of his wife and Clara s immediate relatives. On 
 leaving the church Francis handed his bride into his own 
 carriage, which conveyed them to their new residence, amidst 
 the good wishes of his parishioners, and the prayers of their 
 relatives and friends. Dr. and Mrs. Ives retired to the rec 
 tory, to the sober enjoyment of the felicity of their only child ; 
 while the baronet and his lady felt a gloom that belied all 
 the wishes of the latter for the establishment of her daugh 
 ters. Jane and Emily acted as bridesmaids to their sister, 
 
PRECAUTION. 87 
 
 and as both the former and her mother had insisted there 
 should be two groomsmen as a counterpoise, John was em 
 powered with a carte-blanche to make a provision accord 
 ingly. At first he intimated his intention of calling on Mr. 
 Benfield, but he finally settled down, to the no small morti 
 fication of the before-mentioned ladies, into writing a note to 
 his kinsman, Lord Chatterton, whose residence was then in 
 London, and who in reply, after expressing his sincere regret 
 that an accident would prevent his having the pleasure of 
 attending, stated the intention of his mother and two sisters 
 to pay them an early visit of congratulation, as soon as his 
 own health would allow of his travelling. This answer arrived 
 only the day preceding that fixed for the wedding, and at the 
 very moment they were expecting his lordship in proper 
 person. 
 
 " There," cried Jane, in triumph, " I told you it was silly 
 to send so far on so sudden an occasion ; now, after all, what 
 is to be done it will be so awkward when Clara s friends call 
 to see her Oh ! John, John, you are a Marplot." 
 
 " Jenny, Jenny, you are a make-plot," said John, coolly 
 taking up his hat to leave the room. 
 
 * Which way, my son ?" said the baronet, who met him 
 at the door. 
 
 " To the deanery, sir, to try to get Captain Jarvis to act as 
 bridesmaid I beg his pardon, groomsman, to-morrow 
 Chatterton has been thrown from a horse and can t come." 
 
 " John !" 
 
 "Jenny!" 
 
 * I am sure," said Jane, indignation glowing hi her pretty 
 face, " that if Captain Jarvis is to be an attendant, Clara must 
 excuse my acting. I do not choose to be associated with 
 Captain Jarvis." 
 
 " John," said his mother, with dignity, " your trifling is un- 
 
88 PRECAUTION. 
 
 seasonable ; certainly Colonel Egerton is a more fitting person 
 on every account, and I desire, under present circumstances, 
 that you ask the colonel." 
 
 " Your ladyship s wishes are orders to me," said John, 
 gaily kissing his hand as he left the room. 
 
 The colonel was but too happy in having it in his power 
 to be of service in any manner to a gentleman he respected 
 as much as Mr. Francis Ives. He accepted the duty, and 
 was the only person present at the ceremony who did not 
 stand within the bonds of consanguinity to the parties. He 
 was invited by the baronet to dine at the hall, as a matter of 
 course, and notwithstanding the repeated injunctions of Mrs. 
 Jarvis and her daughters, to return immediately with an ac 
 count of the dress of the bride, and with other important 
 items of a similar nature, the invitation was accepted. On 
 reaching the hall, Emily retired immediately to her own room, 
 and at her reappearance when the dinner bell rang, the pale 
 ness of her cheeks and the redness of her eyes afforded suf 
 ficient proof that the translation of a companion from her own 
 to another family was an event, however happy in itself, not 
 unmingled with grief. The day, however, passed off tolerably 
 well for people who are expected to b premeditatedly happy, 
 and when, in their hearts, they are really more disposed t<? 
 weep than to laugh. Jane and the colonel had most of the 
 conversation to themselves during dinner : even the joyous 
 and thoughtless John wearing his gaiety in a less graceful 
 manner than usual. He was actually detected by his aunt 
 in looking with moistened eyes at the vacant chair a servant 
 had, from habit, placed at the table, in the spot where Clara 
 had been accustomed to sit. 
 
 " This beef is not done, Saunders," said the baronet to his 
 butler, " or my appetite is not as good as usual to-day. Colonel 
 Egerton, will you allow me the pleasure of a glass of sherry ?" 
 
PRECAUTION. 89 
 
 The wine was drunk, and the game succeeded the beef; 
 but still Sir Edward could not eat. 
 
 " How glad Clara will be to see us all the day after to 
 morrow," said Mrs. Wilson ; " your new housekeepers de- 
 Mght in their first efforts in entertaining their friends." 
 
 Lady Moseley smiled through her tears, and turning to her 
 husband said, " We will go early, my dear, that we may see 
 the improvements Francis has been making before we dine." 
 The baronet nodded assent, but his heart was too full to speak ; 
 and apologizing to the colonel for his absence, on the plea of 
 some business with his people, he left the room. 
 
 All this time, the attentions of Colonel Egerton to both mo 
 ther and daughter were of the most delicate kind. He spoke 
 of Clara as if his office of groomsman entitled him to an in 
 terest in her welfare ; with John he was kind and sociable ; 
 and even Mrs. Wilson acknowledged, after he had taken his 
 leave, that he possessed a wonderful faculty of making him 
 self agreeable, and she began to think that, under all circum 
 stances, he might possibly prove as advantageous a connexion 
 as Jane could expect to form. Had any one, however, pro 
 posed him as a husband for Emily, affection would have 
 quickened her judgment hi a way that would have urged her 
 to a very different decision. 
 
 Soon after the baronet left the room, a travelling carriage, 
 with suitable attendants, drove to the door ; the sound of the 
 wheels drew most of the company to a window. " A baron s 
 coronet !" cried Jane, catching a glimpse of the ornaments of 
 the harness. 
 
 " The Chattertons," echoed her brother, running out of the 
 room to meet them. 
 
 The mother of Sir Edward was a daughter of this family, 
 and the sister of the grandfather of the present lord. The 
 connexion had always been kept up with a show of cordiality 
 
90 PRECAUTION. 
 
 between Sir Edward and his cousin, although their manner 
 of living and habits were very different. The baron was a 
 courtier and a placeman. His estates, which he could not 
 alienate, produced about ten thousand a year, but the income 
 he could and did spend ; and the high perquisites of his 
 situation under government, amounting to as much more, 
 were melted away year after year, without making the pro 
 vision for his daughters that his duty and the observance of 
 his promise to his wife s father required at his hands. He 
 had been dead about two years, and his son found himself 
 saddled with the support of an unjointured mother and 
 unportioned sisters. Money was not the idol the young lord 
 worshipped, nor even pleasure. He was affectionate to his 
 surviving parent, and his first act was to settle, during his 
 own life, two thousand a year on her, while he commenced 
 setting aside as much more for each of his sisters annually. 
 This abridged him greatly in his own expenditures ; yet, as 
 they made but one family, and the dowager was really a 
 managing woman in more senses than one, they made a very 
 tolerable figure. The son was anxious to follow the example 
 of Sir Edward Moseley, and give up his town house, for at 
 least a time ; but his mother had exclaimed, with something 
 like horror, at the proposal : 
 
 " Chatterton, would you give it up at the moment it can 
 be of the most use to us ?" and she threw a glance at her 
 daughters that would have discovered her motive to Mrs. 
 Wilson, which was lost on her son ; he, poor soul, thinking 
 she found it convenient to support the interest he had been 
 making for the place held by his father one of more emolu 
 ment than service, or even honor. The contending parties 
 were so equally matched, that this situation was kept, as it 
 were, in abeyance, waiting the arrival of some acquisition of 
 interest to one or other of the claimants. The interest of the 
 
PRECAUTION. 91 
 
 peer, however, had begun to lose ground at the period of 
 which we speak, and his careful mother saw new motives for 
 activity in providing for her children. Mrs. Wilson herself 
 could not be more vigilant in examining the candidates for 
 Emily s favors than was the dowager Lady Chatterton in 
 behalf of her daughter. It is true, the task of the former 
 lady was by far the most arduous, for it involved a study of 
 character and development of principle; while that of the 
 latter would have ended with the footing of a rent-roll, pro 
 vided it contained five figures. Sir Edward s was well known 
 to contain that number, and two of them were not ciphers. 
 Mr. Benfield was rich, and John Moseley was a very agree 
 able young man. Weddings are the season of love, thought 
 the prudent dowager, and Grace is extremely pretty. Chat 
 terton, who never refused his mother anything in his power 
 to grant, and who was particularly dutiful when a visit to 
 Moseley Hall was in question, suffered himself to be per 
 suaded his shoulder was well, and they had left town the day 
 before the wedding, thinking to be in time for all the gaieties, 
 if not for the ceremony itself. 
 
 There existed but little similarity between the persons and 
 manners of this young nobleman and the baronet s hen*. 
 The beauty of Chatterton was almost feminine ; his skin, his 
 color, his eyes, his teeth, were such as many a belle had 
 sighed after; and his manners were bashful and retiring. 
 Yet an intimacy had commenced between the boys at school, 
 which ripened into friendship between the young men at 
 college, and had been maintained ever since, probably as 
 much from the contrarieties of character as from any other 
 cause. With the baron, John was more sedate than ordinary ; 
 with John, Chatterton found unusual animation. But a secret 
 charm which John held over the young peer was his profound 
 respect and unvarying affection for his youngest sister, Emily 
 
92 PRECAUTION. 
 
 This was common ground ; and no dreams of future happi 
 ness, no visions of dawning wealth, crossed the imagination 
 of Chatterton in which Emily was not the fairy to give birth 
 to the one, or the benevolent dispenser of the hoards of the 
 other. 
 
 The arrival of this family was a happy relief from the 
 oppression which hung on the spirits of the Moseleys, and 
 their reception marked with the mild benevolence which 
 belonged to the nature of the baronet, and that impressement 
 which so eminently distinguished the manners of his wife. 
 
 The honorable Misses Chatterton were both handsome ; but 
 the younger was, if possible, a softened picture of her brother. 
 There was the same retiring bashfulness and the same sweet 
 ness of temper as distinguished the baron, and Grace was the 
 peculiar favorite of Emily Moseley. Nothing of the strained 
 or sentimental nature which so often characterize what is 
 called female friendships, however, had crept into the com 
 munications between these young women. Emily loved her 
 sisters too well to go out of her own family for a repository 
 of her griefs or a partaker in her joys. Had her life been 
 chequered with such passions, her own sisters were too near 
 her own age to suffer her to think of a confidence in which 
 the holy ties of natural affection did not give a claim to a 
 participation. Mrs. Wilson had found it necessary to give 
 her charge very different views on many subjects from those 
 which Jane and Clara had been suffered to imbibe of them 
 selves ; but in no degree had she impaired the obligations of 
 filial piety or family concord. Emily was, if anything, more 
 respectful to her parents, more affectionate to her friends, 
 than any of her connexions ; for in her the warmth of natural 
 feeling was heightened by an unvarying sense of duty. 
 
 In Grace Chatterton she found, in many respects, a temper 
 and taste resembling her own. She therefore loved he* better 
 
PRECAUTION. 93 
 
 than others who had equally general claims on her partiality, 
 and as such a friend she now received her with cordial and 
 sincere affection. 
 
 Jane, who had not felt satisfied with the ordering of Pro 
 vidence for the disposal of her sympathies, and had long felt 
 a restlessness that prompted her to look abroad for a confiding 
 spirit to whom to communicate her secrets she had none 
 that delicacy would suffer her to reveal but to communicate 
 her crude opinions and reflections, she had early selected 
 Catherine for this person. Catherine, however, had not stood 
 the test of trial. For a short time the love of heraldry kept 
 them together; but Jane, finding her companion s gusto 
 limited to the charms of the coronet and supporters chiefly, 
 abandoned the attempt in despair, and was actually on the 
 look-out for a new candidate for the vacant station as Colonel 
 Egerton came into the neighborhood. A really delicate 
 female mind shrinks from the exposure of its love to the other 
 sex, and Jane began to be less anxious to form a connexion 
 which would either violate the sensibility of her nature, or 
 lead to treachery to her friend. 
 
 * I regret extremely, Lady Moseley," said the dowager, as 
 they entered the drawing-room, " that the accident which 
 befel Chatterton should have kept us until it was too late for 
 the ceremony : we made it a point to hasten with our con 
 gratulations, however, as soon as Astley Cooper thought it 
 safe for him to travel." 
 
 " I feel indebted for your kindness," replied the smiling 
 hostess. " We are always happy to have our friends around 
 us, and none more than yourself and family. We were for 
 tunate in finding a friend to supply your son s place, in order 
 that the young people might go to the altar in a proper 
 manner. Lady Chatterton, allow me to present our friend, 
 
04 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Colonel Egerton" adding, in a low tone, and with a littU 
 emphasis, " heir to Sir Edgar." 
 
 The colonel bowed gracefully, and the dowager dropped a 
 hasty courtesy at the commencement of the speech ; but a 
 lower bend followed the closing remark, and a glance of the 
 eye was thrown in quest of her daughters, as if she instinc 
 tively wished to bring them into what the sailors term " the 
 line of battle." 
 
PRECAUTION. 95 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE following morning, Emily and Grace, declining the 
 invitation to join the colonel and John in their usual rides, 
 walked to the rectory, accompanied by Mrs. Wilson and 
 Chatterton. The ladies felt a desire to witness the happiness 
 that they so well knew reigned in the rectory, for Francis had 
 promised his father to drive Clara over hi the course of the 
 day. Emily longed to see Clara, from whom it appeared that 
 she had been already separated a month. Her impatience 
 as they approached the house hurried her ahead of her com 
 panions, who waited the more sober gait of Mrs. Wilson. 
 She entered the parlor at the rectory without meeting any 
 one, glowing with exercise, her hair falling over her shoul 
 ders, released from the confinement of the hat she had thrown 
 down hastily as she reached the door. In the room there 
 stood a gentleman in deep black, with his back towards the 
 entrance, intent on a book, and she naturally concluded it 
 was Francis. 
 
 " Where is dear Clara, Frank ?" cried the beautiful girl, 
 laying her hand affectionately on his shoulder. 
 
 The gentleman turned suddenly, and presented to her as- 
 tonished gaze the well remembered countenance of the young 
 man whose parent s death was not likely to be forgotten at 
 B . 
 
 " I thought, sir," said Emily, almost sinking with confu 
 sion, " that Mr. Francis Ives " 
 
 " Your brother has not yet arrived, Miss Moseley," simply 
 replied the stranger, who felt for her embarrassment. " But 
 
96 PRECAUTION. 
 
 I will immediately acquaint Mrs. Ives with your visit." Bow 
 ing, he delicately left the room. 
 
 Emily, who felt greatly relieved by his manner, immedi 
 ately confined her hair in its proper bounds, and had reco 
 vered her composure by the time her aunt and friends joined 
 her. She had not time to mention the incident, and laugh at 
 her own precipitation, when the rector s wife came into the 
 room. 
 
 Chatterton and his sister were both known to Mrs. Ives, 
 and both were favorites. She was pleased to see them, and 
 after reproaching the brother with compelling her son to ask 
 a favor of a comparative stranger, she turned to Emily, and 
 smilingly said 
 
 " You found the parlor occupied, I believe ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Emily, laughing and blushing, " I suppose 
 Mr. Denbigh told you of my heedlessness." 
 
 " He told me of your attention in calling so soon to inquire 
 after Clara, but said nothing more" a servant just then tell 
 ing her Francis wished to see her, she excused herself and 
 withdrew. In the door she met Mr. Denbigh, who made 
 way for her, saying, " your son has arrived, ma am," and 
 in an easy but respectful manner he took his place with the 
 guests, no introduction passing, and none seeming necessary. 
 His misfortunes appeared to have made him acquainted with 
 Mrs. Wilson, and his strikingly ingenuous manner won insen- 
 ,. sibly on the confidence of tho^ who heard him. Everything 
 was natural, yet everything was softened by education; and 
 the little party in the rector s parlor in fifteen minutes felt as 
 if they had known him for years. The doctor and his son 
 now joined them. Clara had not come, but she was looking 
 forward in delightful expectation of to-morrow, and wished 
 greatly for Emily as a guest at the new abode. This plea- 
 rare Mrs. Wilson promised she should have as soon as they 
 
PRECAUTION. 97 
 
 
 
 had got over the hurry of their visit; "our friends," she 
 added, turning to Grace, " will overlook the nicer punctilios of 
 ceremony, where sisterly regard calls for the discharge of 
 more important duties. Clara needs the society of Emily 
 just now." 
 
 " Certainly," said Grace, mildly ; " I hope no useless cere 
 mony on the part of Emily would prevent her manifesting 
 natural attachment to her sister I should feel hurt at her 
 not entertaining a better opinion of us than to suppose so for 
 a moment." 
 
 " This, young ladies, is the real feeling to keep alive es 
 teem," cried the doctor, gaily: "go on, and say and do 
 nothing of which either can disapprove, when tried by the 
 standard of duty, and you need never be afraid of losing a 
 friend that is worth keeping." 
 
 It was three o clock before the carriage of Mrs. Wilson ar 
 rived at the rectory ; and the time stole away insensibly in 
 free and friendly communications. Denbigh had joined mo 
 destly, and with the degree of interest a stranger might be 
 supposed to feel, in the occurrences of a circle to which he 
 was nearly a stranger ; there was at times a slight display of 
 awkwardness, however, about both him and Mrs. Ives, for 
 which Mrs. Wilson easily accounted by recollections of his 
 recent loss and the scene they had all witnessed in that very 
 room. This embarrassment escaped the notice of the rest of 
 the party. On the arrival of the carriage, Mrs. Wilson took 
 her leave. 
 
 " I like this Mr. Denbigh greatly," said Lord Chatterton, 
 as they drove from the door ; " there is something strikingly 
 natural and winning in his manner." 
 
 " In his matter too, judging of the little we have seen of 
 him," replied Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 " Who is he, ma am ?" 
 
 5 
 
98 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " I rather suspect he is someway related to Mrs. Ives ; her 
 staying from Bolton to-day must be owing to Mr. Denbigh, 
 and as the doctor has just gone he must be near enough to 
 them to be neither wholly neglected nor yet a tax upon their 
 politeness. I rather wonder he did not go with them." 
 
 " I heard him tell Francis," remarked Emily, " that he could 
 not think of intruding, and he insisted on Mrs. Ives s going, 
 but she had employments to keep her at home." 
 
 The carriage soon reached an angle in the road where the 
 highways between Bolton Castle and Moseley Hall intersected 
 each other, at a point on the estate of the former. Mrs. 
 Wilson stopped a moment to inquire after an aged pensioner, 
 who had lately met with a loss in business, which she was 
 fearful must have greatly distressed him. In crossing a ford 
 in the little river between his cottage and the market-town, the 
 stream, which had been swollen unexpectedly higher than 
 usual by heavy rains, had swept away his horse and cart loaded 
 with the entire produce of his small field, and with much dif 
 ficulty he had saved even his own life. Mrs. Wilson had not 
 had it in her power until this moment to inquire particularly 
 into the affair, or to offer the relief she was ever ready to be 
 stow on proper objects. Contrary to her expectations, she 
 found Humphreys in high spirits, showing his delighted 
 grand-children a new cart and horse which stood at the door, 
 and exultingly pointing out the excellent qualities of both. 
 He ceased talking on the approach of the party, and at the 
 request of his ancient benefactress he gave a particular ac 
 count of the affair. 
 
 " And where did you get this new cart and horse, Hum 
 phreys ?" inquired Mrs. Wilson, when he had ended. 
 
 ** Oh, madam, I went up to the castle to see the steward, 
 and Mr. Martin just mentioned my loss to Lord Pendennyss, 
 ma am, and my lord ordered me this cart, ma am, and this 
 
PRECAUTION, 99 
 
 noble horse, and twenty golden guineas into toe bargain to 
 put me on my legs again God bless him for it, for ever !" 
 
 " It was very kind of his lordship, indeed," said Mrs. Wil 
 son, thoughtfully : " I did not know he was at the castle." 
 
 " He s gone, already, madam ; the servants told me that he 
 just called to see the earl, on his way to Lon on ; but finding 
 he d went a few days agone to Ireland my lord went for 
 Lon on, without stopping the night even. Ah! madam," 
 continued the old man, who stood leaning on a stick, with his 
 hat in his hand, " he s a great blessing to the poor ; his ser 
 vants say he gives thousands every year to the poor who are 
 hi want he is main rich, too; some people say, much richer 
 and more great like than the earl himself. I m sure I have 
 need to bless him every day of my life." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson smiled mournfully as she wished Humphreys 
 good day and put up her purse, finding the old man so well 
 provided for ; a display or competition in charity never en 
 tering into her system of benevolence. 
 
 " His lordship is munificent in his bounty," said Emily, as 
 they diove from the door. 
 
 " Does it not savor of thoughtlessness to bestow so much 
 where he can know so little ?" Lord Chatterton ventured to 
 inquire. 
 
 " He is," replied Mrs. Wilson, " as old Humphrey says, 
 main rich ; but the sou of the old man and the father of these 
 
 children is a soldier in the th dragoons, of which the earl 
 
 is colonel, and that accounts to me for his liberality," recol 
 lecting, with a sigh, the feelings which had drawn her out 
 of the usual circle of her charities in the case of the same 
 man. 
 
 " Did you ever see Lord Pendennyss, aunt ?" 
 
 " Never, my dear ; he has been much abroad, but my let 
 ters were filled with his praises, and I confess my disappoint- 
 
100 PRECAUTION. 
 
 ment is great in not seeing him on this visit to Lord Bolton, 
 who is his relation ; but," fixing her eyes thoughtfully on her 
 niece, " we shall meet in London this winter, I trust." 
 
 As she spoke a cloud passed over her features, and she 
 continued much absorbed in thought for the remainder of their 
 drive. 
 
 General Wilson had been a cavalry officer, and he com 
 manded the very regiment now held by Lord Pendennyss. 
 In an excursion near the British camp he had been rescued 
 from captivity, if not from death, by a gallant and timely in- 
 terference of this young nobleman, then in command of a troop 
 in the same corps. He had mentioned the occurrence to his 
 wife in his letters, and from that day his correspondence was 
 filled with the praises of the bravery and goodness to the 
 soldiery of his young comrade. When he fell he had 
 been supported from the field by, and he actually died in the 
 arms of the young peer. A letter announcing his death had 
 been received by his widow from the earl himself, and the 
 tender and affectionate manner in which he spoke of her hus 
 band had taken a deep hold on her affections. All the cir 
 cumstances together threw an interest around him that had 
 made Mrs. Wilson almost entertain the romantic wish he 
 might be found worthy and disposed to solicit the hand of 
 Emily. Her anxious inquiries into his character had been 
 attended with such answers as flattered her wishes ; but the 
 military duties of the earl or his private affairs had never 
 allowed a meeting ; and she was now compelled to look for 
 ward to what John laughingly termed their winter campaign, 
 as the only probable place where she could be gratified with 
 the sight of a young man to whom she owed so much, and 
 whose name was connected with some of the most tender 
 though most melancholy recollections of her life. 
 
 Colonel Egerton, who now appeared to be almost domesti- 
 
PRECAUTION. 101 
 
 cated in the family, was again of the party at dinner, to the 
 no small satisfaction of the dowager, who from proper inqui 
 ries in the course of the day had learned that Sir Edgar s heir 
 was likely to have the necessary number of figures in the sum 
 total of his rental. While sitting in the drawing-room that 
 afternoon she made an attempt to bring her eldest daughter 
 and the elegant soldier together over a chess-board ; a game 
 the young lady had been required to learn because it was one 
 at which a gentleman could be kept longer than any other 
 without having his attention drawn away by any of those 
 straggling charms which might be travelling a drawing-room 
 " seeking whom they may devour." It was also a game ad 
 mirably suited to the display of a beautiful hand and arm. 
 But the mother had for a long time been puzzled to discover 
 a way of bringing in the foot also, the young lady being par 
 ticularly remarkable for the beauty of that portion of the 
 frame. In vain her daugher hinted at dancing, an amusement 
 of which she was passionately fond. The wary mother knew 
 too well the effects of concentrated force to listen to the sug 
 gestion : dancing might do for every manager, but she prided 
 herself in acting en masse, like Napoleon, whose tactics con 
 sisted in overwhelming by uniting his forces on a given point. 
 After many experiments in her own person she endeavored to 
 improve Catharine s manner of sitting, and by dint of twisting 
 and turning she contrived that her pretty foot and ankle 
 should be thrown forward in a way that the eye dropping 
 from the move, should unavoidably rest on this beauteous 
 object; giving, as it were, a Scylla and Charybdis to her 
 daughter s charms. 
 
 John Moseley was the first person on whom she undertook 
 to try the effect of her invention; and after comfortably 
 seating the parties she withdrew to a little distance to watch 
 the effect. 
 
 
102 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Check to your king, Miss Chatterton," cried John, early in 
 the game and the young lady thrust out her foot. " Check 
 to your king, Mr. Moseley," echoed the damsel, and John s 
 eyes wandered from hand to foot and foot to hand. " Check 
 king and queen, sir." " Check-mate." " Did you speak ?" 
 said John. Looking up he caught the eye of the dowager 
 fixed on him in triumph " Oh, ho," said the young man, 
 internally, " Mother Chatterton, are you playing too ?" and, 
 coolly taking up his hat, he walked off, nor could they ever 
 get him seated at the game again. 
 
 " You beat me too easily, Miss Chatterton," he would say 
 when pressed to play, ** before I have time to look up it s 
 check-mate excuse me." 
 
 The dowager next settled down into a more covert attack 
 through Grace ; but here she had two to contend with : her 
 own forces rebelled, and the war had been protracted to the 
 present hour with varied success, and at least without any 
 material captures, on one side. 
 
 Colonel Egerton entered on the duties of his dangerous un 
 dertaking with the indifference of foolhardiness. The game 
 was played with tolerable ability by both parties ; but no 
 emotions, no absence of mind could be discovered on the part 
 of the gentleman. Feet and hands were in motion ; still the 
 colonel played as well as usual ; he had answers for all Jane s 
 questions, and smiles for his partner; but no check-mate 
 could she obtain, until wilfully throwing away an advantage 
 he suffered the lady to win the game. The dowager was 
 satisfied nothing could be done with the colonel. 
 
PRECAUTION. 103 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE first carriages that rolled over the lawn to Bolton 
 parsonage, on the succeeding day, were those of the baronet 
 and his sister ; the latter in advance. 
 
 " There, Francis," cried Emily, who was impatiently wait 
 ing for him to remove some slight obstruction to her alighting, 
 " thank you, thank you ; that will do." 
 
 In the next moment she was in the extended arms of Clara, 
 After pressing each other to their bosoms for a few moments 
 in silence, Emily looked up, with a tear glistening in her eye, 
 and first noticed the form of Denbigh, who was modestly 
 withdrawing, as if unwilling to intrude on such pure and 
 domestic feelings as the sisters were betraying, unconscious 
 of the presence of a witness. Mrs. Wilson and Jane, fol 
 lowed by Miss Chatterton, now entered, and cordial salutes 
 and greetings flowed upon Clara from her various friends. 
 
 The baronet s coach reached the door ; it contained himself 
 and wife, Mr. Benfield, and Lady Chatterton. Clara stood 
 on the portico of the building, ready to receive them ; her 
 face all smiles, and tears, and blushes, and her arm locked 
 in that of Emily. 
 
 " I wish you joy of your new abode, Mrs. Francis." Lady 
 Moseley forgot her form, and bursting into tears, she pressed 
 her daughter with ardor to her bosom. 
 
 " Clara, my love !" said the baronet, hastily wiping his 
 eyes, and succeeding his wife in the embrace of their child. 
 He kissed her, and, pressing Francis by the hand, walked into 
 the house in silence. 
 
1 04 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Well, well," cried the dowager, as she saluted her cousin, 
 " all looks comfortable and genteel here, upon my word, Mrs. 
 Ives: grapery hot-houses everything in good style too; 
 and Sir Edward tells me the living is worth a good five 
 hundred a year." 
 
 " So, girl, I suppose you expect a kiss," said Mr. Benfield, 
 who ascended the steps slowly, and with difficulty. "Kissing 
 has gone much out of fashion lately. I remember, on the 
 marriage of my friend, Lord Gosford, in the year fifty-eight, 
 that all the maids and attendants were properly saluted in 
 order. The lady Juliana was quite young then ; not more 
 than fifteen : it was there I got my first salute from her 
 but so kiss me." After which he continued, as they went 
 into the house, " Marrying in that day was a serious business. 
 You might visit a lady a dozen times before you could get a 
 sight of her naked hand. Who s that ?" stopping short, and 
 looking earnestly at Denbigh, who now approached them. 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh, sir," said Clara, " my uncle, Mr. Benfield." 
 
 " Did you ever know, sir, a gentleman of your name, who 
 sat in the parliament of this realm In the year sixty ?" Mr. 
 Benfield abruptly asked, as soon as the civilities of the intro 
 duction were exchanged. " You don t look much like him." 
 
 " That was rather before my day, sir," said Denbigh, with 
 a smile, respectfully offering to relieve Clara, who supported 
 him on one side, while Emily held his arm on the other. 
 
 The old gentleman was particularly averse to strangers, 
 and Emily was in terror lest he should say something rude ; 
 but, after examining Denbigh again from head to foot, he 
 took the offered arm, and coolly replied 
 
 "True; very true; that was sixty years ago; you can 
 hardly recollect as long. Ah ! Mr. Denbigh, times are sadly 
 altered since my youth. People who were then glad to ride 
 on a pillion now drive their coaches ; men who thought alo 
 
PRECAUTION. 105 
 
 a luxury, drink their port ; aye ! and those who went bare 
 foot must have their shoes and stockings, too. Luxury, sir, 
 and the love of ease, will ruin this mighty empire. Corruption 
 has taken hold of everything ; the ministry buy the members, 
 the members buy the ministry; everything is bought and 
 sold. Now, sir, in the parliament in which I had the honor 
 of a seat, there was a knot of us, as upright as posts, sir. My 
 Lord Gosford was one, and General Denbigh was another, 
 although I can t say he was much a favorite with me. You 
 do not look in the least like him. How was he related to 
 you, sir?" 
 
 " He was my grandfather," replied Denbigh, looking 
 pleasantly at Emily, as if to tell her he understood the 
 character of her uncle. 
 
 Had the old man continued his speech an hour longer, 
 Denbigh would not have complained. They had stopped 
 while talking, and he thus became confronted with the 
 beautiful figure that supported the other arm. Denbigh 
 contemplated in admiration the varying countenance which 
 now blushed with apprehension, and now smiled in affection, 
 or even with an archer expression, as her uncle proceeded in 
 his harangue on the times. But all felicity in this world has 
 an end, as well as misery. Denbigh retained the recollection 
 of that speech long after Mr. Benfield was comfortably seated 
 in the parlor, though for his life he could not recollect a word 
 he had said. 
 
 The Haughtons, the Jarvises, and a few more of their 
 intimate acquaintances, arrived, and the parsonage had a busy 
 air ; but John, who had undertaken to drive Grace Chatterton 
 in his own phaeton, was yet absent. Some little anxiety had 
 begun to be manifested, when he appeared, dashing through 
 the gates at a great rate, and with the skill of a member of 
 the four-in-hand. 
 
106 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Lady Ckatterton had begun to be seriously uneasy, and 
 she was about to speak to her son to go in quest of them, as 
 they came in sight ; but now her fears vanished, and she 
 could only suppose that a desire to have Grace alone could 
 keep one who had the reputation of a Jehu so much behind 
 the rest of the party. She met them in great spirits, 
 crying, 
 
 " Upon my word, Mr. Moseley, I began to think you had 
 taken the road to Scotland, you stayed so long." 
 
 " Your daughter, my Lady Chatterton," said John, pithily, 
 " would go to Scotland neither with me nor any other man, 
 or I am greatly deceived in her character. Clara, my sister, 
 how do you do ?" He saluted the bride with great warmth 
 and affection. 
 
 " But what detained you, Moseley ?" inquired the mother. 
 
 " One of the horses was restive, and he broke the harness. 
 We merely stopped in the village while it was mended." 
 
 " And how did Grace behave?" asked Emily, laughing. 
 
 " Oh, a thousand times better than you would, sister; as 
 she always does, and like an angel." 
 
 The only point in dispute between Emily and her brother 
 was her want of faith in his driving; while poor Grace, 
 naturally timid, and unwilling to oppose any one, particularly 
 the gentleman who then held the reins, had governed herself 
 sufficiently to be silent and motionless. Indeed, she could 
 hardly do otherwise had she wished it, so great was his 
 impetuosity of character ; and John felt nattered to a degree 
 of which he was himself unconscious. Self-complacency, 
 aided by the merit, the beauty, and the delicacy of the young 
 lady herself, might have led to the very results her mother 
 so anxiously wished to produce, had that mother been satisfied 
 with letting things take their course. But managers very 
 generally overdo their work. 
 
PRECAUTION. 107 
 
 " Grace is a good girl," said her gratified mother ; " and 
 you found her very valiant, Mr. Moseley ?" 
 
 " Oh, as brave as Caesar," answered John, carelessly, in a 
 way that was not quite free from irony. 
 
 Grace, whose burning cheek showed but too plainly that 
 praise from John Moseley was an incense too powerful for her 
 resistance, now sank back behind some of the company, 
 endeavoring to conceal the tears that almost gushed from her 
 eyes. Denbigh was a silent spectator of the whole scene, and 
 he now considerately observed, that he had lately seen an 
 improvement which would obviate the difficulty Mr. Moseley 
 had experienced. John turned to the speaker, and they were 
 soon engaged in the discussion of curbs and buckles, when 
 the tilbury of Colonel Egerton drove to the door, containing 
 himself and his friend the captain. 
 
 The bride undoubtedly received congratulations that day 
 more sincere than those which were now offered, but none 
 were delivered in a more graceful and insinuating manner 
 than the compliments which fell from Colonel Egerton. He 
 passed round the room, speaking to his acquaintances, until 
 he arrived at the chair of Jane, who was seated next her 
 aunt. Here he stopped, and glancing his eye round, and 
 saluting with bows and smiles the remainder of the party, he 
 appeared fixed at the centre of all attraction. 
 
 " There is a gentleman I think I have never seen before," 
 he observed to Mrs. Wilson, casting his eyes on Denbigh, 
 whose back was towards him in discourse with Mr. Benfield. 
 
 " It is Mr. Denbigh, of whom you heard us speak," replied 
 Mrs. Wilson. While she spoke, Denbigh faced them. 
 Egerton started as he caught a view of his face, and seemed 
 to gaze on the countenance which was open to his inspection 
 with an earnestness that showed an interest of some kind, but 
 of a nature that was inexplicable to Mrs. Wilson, who was 
 
108 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the only observer of this singular recognition ; for such it 
 1 evidently was. All was now natural in the colonel for the 
 moment ; his color sensibly changed, and there was an ex 
 pression of doubt in his face. It might be fear, it might be 
 horror, it might be a strong aversion ; it clearly was not love. 
 Emily sat by her aunt, and Denbigh approached them, making 
 a cheerful remark. It was impossible for the colonel to 
 avoid him had he wished it, and he kept his ground. Mrs. 
 Wilson thought she would try the experiment of an intro 
 duction. 
 
 " Colonel Egerton Mr. Denbigh/ 
 
 Both gentlemen bowed, but nothing striking was seen in 
 the deportment of either. The colonel, who was not exactly 
 at ease, said hastily 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh is, or has been in the army, I believe." 
 
 Denbigh was now taken by surprise in his turn : he cast a 
 look on Egerton of fixed and settled meaning ; then carelessly 
 observed, but still as if requiring an answer : 
 
 " I am yet ; but I do not recollect having had the pleasure 
 of meeting with Colonel Egerton on service." 
 
 "Your countenance is familiar, sir," replied the colonel, 
 coldly ; " but at this moment I cannot tax my memory with 
 the place of our meeting, though one sees so many strange 
 faces in a campaign, that they come and go like shadows. * 
 
 He then changed the conversation. It was some time, 
 however, before either gentleman entirely recovered his ease, 
 and many days elapsed ere anything like intercourse passed 
 between them. The colonel attached himself during this 
 visit to Jane, with occasional notices of the Misses Jarvis, who 
 began to manifest symptoms of uneasiness at the decided 
 preference he showed to a lady they now chose to look upon, 
 in some measure, as a rival. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson and her charge, on the other hand, were 
 
 
PRECAUTION. 109 
 
 entertained by tlie conversation of Chatterton and Denbigh, 
 relieved by occasional sallies from the lively John. There 
 was something in the person and manners of Denbigh that 
 insensibly attracted those whom chance threw in his way. 
 His face was not strikingly handsome, but it was noble ; and 
 when he smiled, or was much animated, it invariably com 
 municated a spark of his own enthusiasm to the beholder. 
 His figure was faultless ; his air and manner, if less easy than 
 those of Colonel Egerton, were more sincere and ingenuous ; 
 his breeding was clearly higher ; his respect for others rather 
 bordering on the old school. But in his voice there existed 
 a charm which would make him, when he spoke, to a female 
 ear, almost resistless : it was soft, deep, melodious, and winning. 
 
 " Baronet," said the rector, looking with a smile towards 
 his son and daughter, " I love to see ray children happy, and 
 Mrs. Ives threatens a divorce if I go on in the manner I have 
 commenced. She says I desert her for Bolton." 
 
 " Why, doctor, if our wives conspire against us, and pre 
 vent our enjoying a comfortable dish of tea with Clara, or a 
 glass of wine with Frank, we must call in the higher author 
 ities as umpires. What say you, sister? Is a parent to 
 desert his child in any case ?" 
 
 * My opinion is," said Mrs. Wilson, with a smile, yet 
 speaking with emphasis, " that a parent is not to desert a 
 child, in any case or in any manner." 
 
 " Do you hear that, my Lady Moseley ?" cried the good- 
 humored baronet. 
 
 " Do you hear that, my Lady Chatterton ?" echoed John, 
 who had just taken a seat by Grace, when her mother 
 approached them. 
 
 " I hear it, but do not see the application, Mr. Moseley." 
 
 " No, my lady ! Why, there is the honorable Miss Chat 
 terton almost dying to play a game of her favorite chess 
 
110 PRECAUTION. 
 
 with Mr. Denbigh. She has beaten us all but him, and her 
 triumph will not be complete until she has him too at her 
 feet." 
 
 And as Denbigh politely offered to meet the challenge, 
 the board was produced, and the parties were seated. Lady 
 Chatterton stood leaning over her daughter s chair, with a 
 view, however, to prevent any of those consequences she was 
 generally fond of seeing result from this amusement ; every 
 measure taken by this prudent mother being literally governed 
 by judicious calculation. 
 
 * Umph," thought John, as he viewed the players, while 
 listening with pleasure to the opinions of Grace, who had 
 recovered her composure and spirits ; " Kate, after all, has 
 played one game without using her feet." 
 
PRECAUTION. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 TEN days or a fortnight flew swiftly by, during which Mrs. 
 Wilson suffered Emily to give Clara a week, having first 
 ascertained that Denbigh was a settled resident at the rec 
 tory, and thereby not likely to be oftener at the House of 
 Francis than at the hall, where he was a frequent and wel 
 come guest, both on his own account and as a friend of Doc^ 
 tor Ives. Emily had returned, and she brought the bride 
 and groom with her ; when one evening as they were plea 
 santly seated at their various amusements, with the ease of 
 old acquaintances, Mr. Haughton entered. It was at an hour 
 rather unusual for his visits; and throwing down his hat, 
 after making the usual inquiries, he began without preface 
 
 " I know, good people, you are all wondering what has 
 brought me out this time of night, but the truth is, Lucy has 
 coaxed her mother to persuade me into a ball in honor of the 
 times ; so, my lady, I have consented, and my wife and 
 
 daughter have been buying up all the finery in B , by 
 
 the way, I suppose, of anticipating their friends. There is a 
 regiment of foot come into barracks within fifteen miles of us, 
 and to-morrow I must beat up for recruits among the officers 
 girls are never wanting on such occasions." 
 
 " Why," cried the baronet, " you are growing young again, 
 my friend." 
 
 " No, Sir Edward, but my daughter is young, and life has 
 so many cares that I am willing she should get rid of as many 
 as she can at mv expense." 
 
 " Surely you would not wish her to dance them away," 
 
112 PEECAUTIOK. 
 
 said Mrs. Wilson ; " such relief I am afraid will prove tem 
 porary." 
 
 " Do you disapprove of dancing, ma am ?" said Mr. Haugh- 
 ton, who held her opinions in great respect as well as a little 
 dread. 
 
 " I neither approve nor disapprove of it jumping up and 
 down is innocent enough in itself, and if it must be done it is 
 well it were done gracefully ; as for the accompaniments of 
 dancing I say nothing what do you say, Doctor Ives ?" 
 
 " To what, my dear madam ?" 
 
 " To dancing." 
 
 " Oh let the girls dance if they enjoy it." 
 
 " I am glad you think so, doctor," cried the delighted Mr. 
 Haughton ; I was afraid I recollected your advising your son 
 never to dance nor to play at games of chance." 
 
 " You thought right, my friend," said the doctor, laying 
 down his newspaper; "I did give that advice to Frank, 
 whom you will please to remember is now rector of Bolton. 
 I do not object to dancing as not innocent in itself or as an 
 elegant exercise ; but it is like drinking, generally carried to 
 excess : now as a Christian I am opposed to all excesses ; the 
 music and company lead to intemperance in the recreation, 
 and they often induce neglect of duties but so may any 
 thing else." 
 
 " I like a game of whist, doctor, greatly," said Mr. Haugh 
 ton ; " but observing that you never play, and recollecting 
 your advice to Mr. Francis, I have forbidden cards when you 
 are my guest." 
 
 " I thank you for the compliment, good sir," replied the 
 doctor, with a smile ; " still I would much rather see you 
 play cards than hear you talk scandal, as you sometimes do." 
 
 " Scandal !" echoed Mr. Haughton. 
 
 " Ay, scandal," said the doctor, coolly, " such as the re* 
 
PRECAUTION. 113 
 
 mark you made the last time, which was only yesterday, I 
 called to see you. You accused Sir Edward of being wrong 
 in letting that poacher off so easily ; the baronet, you said, did 
 not shoot himself, and did not know how to prize game as he 
 ought." 
 
 " Scandal, Doctor do you call that scandal ? why I told 
 Sir Edward so himself, two or three times." 
 
 " I know you did, and that was rude." 
 
 " Rude ! I hope sincerely Sir Edward has put no such con 
 struction on it ?" 
 
 The baronet smiled kindly, and shook his head. 
 
 " Because the baronet chooses to forgive your offences, ii 
 does not alter their nature," said the doctor, gravely : " no, 
 you must repent and amend ; you impeached his motives for 
 doing a benevolent act, and that I call scandal." 
 
 " Why, doctor, I was angry the fellow should be let loose ; 
 he is a pest to all the game in the county, and every sports 
 man will tell you so here, Mr. Moseley, you know Jackson, 
 the poacher." 
 
 " Oh ! a poacher is an intolerable wretch !" cried Captain 
 Jarvis. 
 
 "Oh! a poacher," echoed John, looking drolly at Emily 
 " hang all poachers." 
 
 " Poacher or no poacher, does not alter the scandal," said 
 the doctor ; " now let me tell you, good sir, I would rather 
 play at fifty games of whist than make one such speech, un 
 less indeed it interfered with my duties ; now, sir, with your 
 leave I ll explain myself as to my son. There is an artificial 
 levity about dancing that adds to the dignity of no man : 
 from some it may detract : a clergyman for instance is sup 
 posed to have other things to do, and it might hurt him in 
 the opinions of those with whom his influence is necessary, 
 and impair his usefulness ; therefore a clergyman should never 
 
114 PRECAUTION. 
 
 dance. In the same way with cards ; they are the common 
 instruments of gambling, and an odium is attached to them 
 on that account; women and clergymen must respect the 
 prejudices of mankind in some cases, or lose their influence hi 
 society." 
 
 " I did hope to have the pleasure of your company, doctor, 
 said Mr. Haughton, hesitatingly. 
 
 " And if it will give you pleasure," cried the rector, " you 
 shall have it with all my heart, good sir; it would be a 
 greater evil to wound the feelings of such a neighbor as Mr. 
 Haughton, than to show my face once at a ball," and rising, 
 he laid his hand on the shoulder of the other kindly. " Both 
 your scandal and rudeness are easily forgiven ; but I wished 
 to show you the common error of the world which has at 
 tached odium to certain things, while it charitably overlooks 
 others of a more heinous nature." 
 
 Mr. Haughton, who had at first been a little staggered with 
 the attack of the doctor, recovered himself, and laying a hand 
 ful of notes on the table, hoped he should have the pleasure 
 of seeing every body. The invitation was generally accepted, 
 and the worthy man departed, happy if his friends did but 
 come, and were pleased. 
 
 "Do you dance, Miss Moseley?" inquired Denbigh of 
 Emily, as he sat watching her graceful movements in netting 
 a purse for her father. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! the doctor said nothing of us girls, you know : 
 I suppose he thinks we have no dignity to lose." 
 
 " Admonitions are generally thrown away on young ladies 
 when pleasure is in the question," said the doctor, with a look 
 of almost paternal affection. 
 
 " I hope you do not seriously disapprove of it in modera 
 tion," said Mrs. Wilson. 
 ;; " That depends, madam, upon circumstances ; if it is to be 
 
PRECAUTION. 115 
 
 made subsidiary to envy, malice, coquetry, vanity, or any 
 other such little lady-like accomplishment, it certainly had 
 better be let alone. But in moderation, and with the feelings 
 of rny little pet here, I should be cynical, indeed, to object." 
 
 Denbigh appeared lost in his own ruminations during this 
 dialogue ; and as the doctor ended, he turned to the captain, 
 who was overlooking a game of chess between the colonel and 
 Jane, of which the latter had become remarkably fond of late, 
 playing with her hands and eyes instead of her feet and in 
 quired the name of the corps in barracks at F . 
 
 " The th foot, sir," replied the captain, haughtily, who 
 
 neither respected him, owing to his want of consequence, nor 
 loved him, from the manner in which Emily listened to his 
 conversation. 
 
 " Will Miss Moseley forgive a bold request," said Denbigh, 
 with some hesitation. 
 
 Emily looked up from her work in silence, but with some 
 little fluttering^ at the heart. 
 
 " The honor of her hand for the first dance," continued Den 
 bigh, observing she was in expectation that he would proceed. 
 
 Emily laughingly said, " Certainly, Mr. Denbigh, if you 
 can submit to the degradation." 
 
 The London papers now came in, and most of the gentle 
 men sat down to their perusal. The colonel, however, re 
 placed the men for a second game, and Denbigh still kept his 
 place beside Mrs. Wilson and her niece. The manners, the 
 sentiments, the whole exterior of this gentleman were such as 
 both the taste and judgment of the aunt approved of ; his 
 qualities were those which insensibly gained on the heart, and 
 yet Mrs. Wilson noticed, with a slight uneasiness, the very 
 evident satisfaction her niece took in his society. In Dr. Ives 
 she had great confidence, yet Dr. Ives was a friend, and pro 
 bably judged him favorably ; and again, Dr. Ives was not to 
 
116 PRECAUTION 
 
 suppose he was introducing a candidate for the hand of Emity 
 in every gentleman he brought to the hall. Mrs. Wilson had 
 seen too often the ill consequences of trusting to impressions 
 received from inferences of companionship, not to know the 
 only safe way was to judge for ourselves : the opinions of 
 others might be partial might be prejudiced and many an 
 improper connexion had been formed by listening to the sen 
 timents of those who spoke without interest, and consequently 
 without examination. Not a few matches are made by this 
 idle commendation of others, uttered by those who are re 
 spected, and which are probably suggested more by a desire 
 to please than by reflection or even knowledge. In short 
 Mrs. Wilson knew that as our happiness chiefly interests our 
 selves, so it was to ourselves, or to those few whose interest 
 was equal to our own, we could only trust those important 
 inquiries necessary to establish a permanent opinion of cha 
 racter. With Doctor Ives her communications on subjects of 
 duty were frequent and confiding, and although she sometimes 
 thought his benevolence disposed him to be rather too lenient 
 to the faults of mankind, she entertained a profound respect 
 for his judgment. It had great influence with her, if it were 
 not always conclusive ; she determined, therefore, to have an 
 early conversation with him on the subject so near her heart, 
 and be in a great measure regulated by his answers in the 
 steps to be immediately taken. Every day gave her what 
 she thought melancholy proof of the ill consequences of neg 
 lecting a duty, in the increasing intimacy of Colonel Egerton 
 and Jane. 
 
 " Here, aunt," cried John, as he ran over a paper, " is a 
 paragraph relating to your favorite youth, our trusty and well 
 beloved cousin the Earl of Pendennyss." 
 
 " Read it," said Mrs. Wilson, with an interest his name 
 never failed to excite. 
 
PRECAUTION. 117 
 
 " We noticed to-day the equipage of the gallant Lord Pen- 
 dennyss before the gates of Annandale-house. and understand 
 the noble earl is last from Bolton castle, Northamptonshire." 
 
 " A very important fact," said Captain Jarvis, sarcastically ; 
 " Colonel Egerton and myself got as far as the village, to pay 
 our respects to him, when we heard he had gone on to 
 town." 
 
 " The earl s character, both as a man and a soldier," ob 
 served the colonel, " gives him a claim to our attentions that 
 his rank would not : on that account we would have called." 
 
 " Brother," said Mrs. Wilson, " you would oblige me 
 greatly by asking his lordship to waive ceremony ; his visits 
 to Bolton castle will probably be frequent, now we have peace ; 
 and the owner is so much from home that we may never see 
 him without some such invitation." 
 
 "Do you want him as a husband for Emily?" cried John, 
 as he gaily seated himself by the side of his sister. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson smiled at an observation which reminded her 
 of one of her romantic wishes ; and as she raised her head to 
 reply in the same tone, met the eye of Denbigh fixed on her 
 with an expression that kept her silent. This is really an in 
 comprehensible young man in some respects, thought the 
 cautious widow, his startling looks on the introduction to the 
 colonel crossing her mind at the same time ; and observing 
 the doctor opening the door that led to the baronet s library, 
 Mrs. Wilson, who generally acted as soon as she had decided, 
 followed him. As their conversations were known often to 
 relate to the little offices of chanty in which they both de 
 lighted, the movement excited no surprise, and she entered 
 the library with the doctor uninterrupted. 
 
 " Doctor," said Mrs. Wilson, impatient to proceed to the 
 point, " you know my maxim, prevention is better than cure. 
 This young friend of yours is very interesting." 
 
118 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Do you feel yourself in danger ?" said the rector, smiling. 
 
 " Not very imminent," replied the lady, laughing good- 
 naturedly. Seating herself, she continued, "Who is he? and 
 who was his father, if I may ask ?" 
 
 " George Denbigh, madam, both father and son," said the 
 doctor, gravely. 
 
 "Ah, doctor, I am almost tempted to wish Frank had 
 been a girl. You know what I wish to learn." 
 
 "Put your questions in order, dear madam," said the 
 doctor, in a kind manner, " and they shall be answered." 
 
 " His principles ?" 
 
 " So far as I can learn, they are good. His acts, as they 
 have come to my notice, are highly meritorious, and I hope 
 they originated in proper motives. I have seen but little of 
 him of late years, however, and on this head you are nearly 
 as good a judge as myself. His filial piety," said the doctor, 
 dashing a tear from his eye, and speaking with fervor, * was 
 lovely." 
 
 " His temper his disposition ?" 
 
 " His temper is under great command, although naturally 
 ardent ; his disposition eminently benevolent towards his 
 fellow-creatures." 
 
 " His connexions ?" 
 
 " Suitable," said the doctor, gravely. 
 
 His fortune was of but little moment. Emily would be 
 amply provided, for all the customary necessaries of her 
 station ; and, thanking the divine, Mrs. Wilson returned to 
 the parlor, easy in mind, and determined to let things take 
 their own course for a time, but in no degree to relax the 
 vigilance of her observation. 
 
 On her return to the room, Mrs. Wilson observed Denbigh 
 approach Egerton., and enter into conversation of a general 
 nature. It was the first time anything more than unavoidable 
 
PRECAUTION. 119 
 
 courtesies had passed between them. The colonel appeared 
 slightly uneasy under his novel situation, while, on the other 
 hand, his companion showed an anxiety to be on a more 
 friendly footing than heretofore. There was something 
 mysterious in the feelings manifested by both these gentlemen 
 that greatly puzzled the good lady ; and from its complexion, 
 she feared one or the other was not entirely free from censure. 
 It could not have been a quarrel, or their names would have 
 been familiar to each other. They had both served in Spain, 
 she knew, and excesses were often committed by gentlemen 
 at a distance from home their pride would have prevented 
 where they were anxious to maintain a character. Gambling, 
 and a few other prominent vices, floated through her ima 
 gination, until, wearied of conjectures where she had no data, 
 and supposing, after all, it might be only her imagination, 
 she turned to more pleasant reflections. 
 
120 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE bright eyes of Emily Moseley unconsciously wandered 
 round the brilliant assemblage at Mr. Haughton s, as she took 
 her seat, in search of her partner. The rooms were filled 
 
 with scarlet coats, and belles from the little town of F ; 
 
 and if the company were not the most select imaginable, it 
 was disposed to enjoy the passing moment cheerfully and in 
 lightness of heart. Ere, however, she could make out to 
 scan the countenances of the men, young Jarvis, decked in 
 
 the full robes of his dignity, as captain in the th foot, 
 
 approached and solicited the honor of her hand. The colonel 
 had already secured her sister, and it was by the instigation 
 of his friend, Jarvis had been thus early in his application. 
 Emily thanked him, and pleaded her engagement. The 
 mortified youth, who had thought dancing with the ladies a 
 favor conferred on them, from the anxiety his sister always 
 manifested to get partners, stood for a few moments in sullen 
 silence; and then, as if to be revenged on the sex, he 
 determined not to dance the whole evening. Accordingly, 
 he withdrew to a room appropriated to the gentlemen, where 
 he found a few of the military beaux, keeping alive the 
 stimulus they had brought with them from the mess-table. 
 
 Clara had prudently decided to comport herself as became 
 a clergyman s wife, and she declined dancing altogether. 
 Catherine Chatterton was entitled to open the ball, as supe 
 rior in years and rank to any who were disposed to enjoy the 
 amusement. The dowager, who in her heart loved to show 
 her airs upon such occasions, had chosen to be later than the 
 
PRECAUTION. 121 
 
 rest of the family ; and Lucy had to entreat her father to 
 have patience more than once during the interregnum in their 
 sports created by Lady Chatterton s fashion. This lady at 
 length appeared, attended by her son, and followed by her 
 daughters, ornamented in all the taste of the reigning fashions. 
 Doctor Ives and his wife, who came late from choice, soon 
 appeared, accompanied by their guest, and the dancing com 
 menced. Denbigh had thrown aside his black for the evening, 
 and as he approached to claim her promised hand, Emily- 
 thought him, if not as handsome, much more interesting than 
 Colonel Egerton, who just then passed them while leading 
 her sister to the set Emily danced beautifully, but perfectly 
 like a lady, as did Jane ; but Denbigh, although graceful in 
 his movements and in time, knew but little of the art ; and 
 but for the assistance of his partner, he would have more than 
 once gone wrong in the figure. He very gravely asked her 
 opinion of his performance as he handed her to a chair, and 
 she laughingly told him his movements were but a better sort 
 of march. He was about to reply, when Jarvis approached. 
 By the aid of a pint of wine and his own reflections, the 
 youth wrought himself into something of a passion, especially 
 as he saw Denbigh enter, after Emily had declined dancing 
 with himself. There was a gentleman in the corps who 
 unfortunately was addicted to the bottle, and he had fastened 
 on Jarvis as a man at leisure to keep him company. Wine 
 openeth the heart, and the captain having taken a peep at 
 the dancers, and seen the disposition of affairs, returned to 
 his bottle companion, bursting with the indignity offered to 
 his person. He dropped a hint, and a question or two 
 brought the whole grievance forth. 
 
 There is a certain set of men in every service who imbibe 
 extravagant notions that are revolting to humanity, and which 
 too often prove to be fatal in their results. Their morals are 
 
 6 
 
122 PRECAUTION. 
 
 never correct, and the little they have set loosely about them. 
 In their own cases, their appeals to arms are not always so 
 prompt; but in that of their friends, their perceptions of 
 honor are intuitively keen, and their inflexibility in preserving 
 it from reproach unbending ; and such is the weakness of 
 mankind, their tenderness on points where the nicer feelings 
 of a soldier are involved, that these machines of custom, these 
 thermometers graduated to the scale of false honor, usurp the 
 place of reason and benevolence, and become too often the 
 arbiters of life and death to a whole corps. Such, then, was 
 the confidant to whom Jarvis communicated the cause of his 
 disgust, and the consequences may easily be imagined. As 
 he passed Emily and Denbigh, he threw a look of fierceness 
 at the latter, which he meant as an indication of his hostile 
 intentions. It was lost on his rival, who at that moment was 
 filled with passions of a very different kind from those which 
 Captain Jarvis thought agitated his own bosom ; for had his 
 new friend let him alone, the captain would have gone quietly 
 home and gone to sleep. 
 
 " Have you ever fought ?" said Captain Digby coolly to his 
 companion, as they seated themselves in his father s parlor, 
 whither they had retired to make their arrangements for the 
 following morning. 
 
 " Yes," said Jarvis, with a stupid look, " I fought once 
 with Tom Halliday at school." 
 
 " At school ! My dear friend, you commenced young 
 .indeed," said Digby, helping himself to another glass. * And 
 how did it end ?" 
 
 " Oh ! Tom got the better, and so I cried enough," said 
 Jarvis, surlily. 
 
 " Enough ! I hope you did not flinch," eyeing him keenly 
 "Where were you hit?" 
 
 " He hit me all over." 
 
PRECAUTION 1 . 123 
 
 " All over ! . The d 1 ! Did you use small shot ? How 
 did you fight ?" 
 
 " With fists," said Jarvis, yawning. 
 
 His companion, seeing how matters were, rang for his 
 servant to put him to bed, remaining himself an hour longer 
 to finish the bottle. 
 
 Soon after Jarvis had given Denbigh the look big with his 
 ntended vengeance, Colonel Egerton approached Emily, 
 asking permission to present Sir Herbert Nicholson, the 
 lieutenant-colonel of the regiment, and a gentleman who was 
 ambitious of the honor of her acquaintance; a particular 
 friend of his own. Emily gracefully bowed her assent. Soon 
 after, turning her eyes on Denbigh, who had been speaking 
 to her at the moment, she saw him looking intently on the 
 two soldiers, who were making their way through the crowd 
 to the place where she sat. He stammered, said something 
 she could not understand, and precipitately withdrew ; and 
 although both she and her aunt sought his figure in the gay 
 throng that flitted around them, he was seen no more that 
 evening. 
 
 " Are you acquainted with Mr. Denbigh ?" said Emily to her 
 partner, after looking in vain to find his person in the crowd. 
 
 " Denbigh ! Denbigh ! I have known one or two of that 
 name," replied the gentleman. : In the army there are 
 several." 
 
 " Yes," said Emily, musing, " he is in the army ;" and 
 looking up, she saw her companion reading her countenance 
 with an expression that brought the color to her cheeks with 
 a glow that was painful. Sir Herbert smiled, and observed 
 that the room was warm. Emily acquiesced in the remark, 
 for the first time in her life conscious of a feeling she was 
 ashamed to have scrutinized, and glad of any excuse to hide 
 her confusion. 
 
124 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Grace Chatterton is really beautiful to-night," whispered 
 John Moseley to his sister Clara. " I have a mind to ask 
 her to dance." 
 
 " Do, John." replied his sister, looking with pleasure on 
 
 her beautiful cousin, who, observing the movements of John 
 
 as he drew near where she sat, moved her face on each side 
 
 rapidly, in search of some one who was apparently not to be 
 
 found. Her breathing became sensibly quicker, and John 
 
 ..was on the point of speaking to her as the dowager stepped 
 
 [ in between them. There is nothing so flattering to the vanity 
 
 of a man as the discovery of emotions in a young woman 
 
 excited by himself, and which the party evidently wishes to 
 
 conceal ; there is nothing so touching, so sure to captivate ; 
 
 or, if it seem to be affected, so sure to disgust. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Moseley," cried the mother, " you shall not 
 ask Grace to dance ! She can refuse you nothing, and she 
 has been up the last two figures." 
 
 "Your wishes are irresistible, Lady Chatterton," said 
 John, coolly turning on his heel. On gaming the other side 
 of the room, he turned to reconnoitre the scene. The 
 dowager was fanning herself as violently as if she had been 
 up the last two figures instead of her daughter, while Grace 
 sat with her eyes fastened on the floor, paler than usual. 
 " Grace," thought the young man, u would be very handsome 
 very sweet very very everything that is agreeable, if 
 if it were not for Mother Chatterton." He then led out one 
 of the prettiest girls in the room. 
 
 Col. Egerton was peculiarly fitted to shine in a ball room. 
 He danced gracefully and with spirit ; was perfectly at home 
 with all the usages of the best society, and was never neg 
 lectful of any of those little courtesies which have their charm 
 for the moment ; and Jane Moseley, who saw all those she 
 loved around her, apparently as happy as herself, found in her 1 
 
PRECAUTION. 125 
 
 judgment or the convictions of her principles, no counterpoise 
 against the weight of such attractions, all centred as it were 
 in one effort to please herself. His flattery was deep for it 
 was respectful his tastes were her tastes his opinions her 
 opinions. On the formation of their acquaintance they dif 
 fered on some trifling point of poetical criticism, and for near 
 a month the colonel had maintained his opinion with a show 
 of firmness ; but opportunities not wanting for the discussion, 
 he had felt constrained to yield to her better judgment, her 
 purer taste. The conquest of Colonel Egertonwas complete, 
 and Jane who saw in his attentions the submission of a de 
 voted heart, began to look forward to the moment with 
 trembling that was to remove the thin barrier that existed 
 between the adulation of the eyes and the most delicate assi 
 duity to please, and the open confidence of declared love. 
 Jane Moseley had a heart to love, and to love strongly ; hei 
 danger existed in her imagination : it was brilliant, unchast- 
 ened by her judgment, we had almost said unfettered by her 
 principles. Principles such as are found in every-day maxims 
 and rules of conduct sufficient to restrain her within the 
 bounds of perfect decorum she was furnished with in abund 
 ance ; but to that principle which was to teach her submission 
 in opposition to her wishes, to that principle that could alone 
 afford her security against the treachery of her own passions, 
 she was an utter stranger. 
 
 The family of Sir Edward were among the first to retire, 
 and as the Chattertons had their own carriage, Mrs. Wilson 
 and her charge returned alone in the coach of the former. 
 Emily, who had been rather out of spirits the latter part of 
 the evening, broke the silence by suddenly observing, 
 
 " Colonel Egerton is, or soon will be, a perfect hero ! 
 
 Her aunt somewhat surprised, both with the abruptness 
 and with the strength of the remark, inquired her meaning. 
 
126 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Oh, Jane will make him one, whether or not." 
 This was spoken with an air of vexation which she was 
 unused to, and Mrs. Wilson gravely corrected her for speak 
 ing in a disrespectful manner of her sister, one whom neither 
 her years nor situation entitled her in any measure to advise 
 or control. There was an impropriety in judging so near and 
 dear a relation harshly, even in thought. Emily pressed the 
 hand of her aunt and tremulously acknowledged her error ; 
 but she added, that she felt a momentary irritation at the 
 idea of a man of Colonel Egerton s character gaining the 
 command over feelings such as her sister possessed. Mrs. 
 Wilson kissed the cheek of her niece, while she inwardly ac 
 knowledged the probable truth of the very remark she had 
 thought it her duty to censure. That the imagination of 
 Jane would supply her lover with those qualities she most 
 honored herself, she believed was taken as a matter of course ; 
 and that when the veil she had helped to throw before her 
 own eyes was removed, she would cease to respect, and of 
 course cease to love him, when too late to remedy the evil, 
 she greatly feared. But in the approaching fate of Jane she 
 saw new cause to call forth her own activity. 
 
 Emily Moseley had just completed her eighteenth year, and 
 was gifted by nature with a vivacity and ardency of feeling 
 that gave a heightened zest to the enjoyments of that happy 
 age. She was artless but intelligent ; cheerful, with a deep 
 conviction of the necessity of piety ; and uniform in her prac 
 tice of all the important duties. The unwearied exertions of 
 her aunt, aided by her own quickness of perception, had made 
 her familiar with the attainments suitable to her sex and years. 
 For music she had no taste, and the time which would have 
 been thrown away in endeavoring to cultivate a talent she did 
 not possess, was dedicated under the discreet guidance of her 
 aunt, to works which had a tendency both to qualify her for 
 
PRECAUTION. 127 
 
 the duties of this life, and fit her for that which comes here 
 after. It might be said Emily Moseley had never read a book 
 that contained a sentiment or inculcated an opinion improper 
 for her sex or dangerous to her morals ; and it was not diffi 
 cult for those who knew the fact, to fancy they could perceive 
 the consequences in her guileless countenance and innocent 
 deportment. Her looks her actions her thoughts, wore as 
 much of nature as the discipline of her well-regulated mind 
 and softened manners could admit. In person she was of the 
 middle size, exquisitely formed, graceful and elastic in her 
 step, without, however, the least departure from her natural 
 movements ; her eye was a dark blue, with an expression of 
 joy and intelligence ; at times it seemed all soul, and again 
 all heart ; her color was rather high, but it varied with every 
 emotion of her bosom ; her feelings were strong, ardent, and 
 devoted to those she loved. Her preceptress had never found 
 it necessary to repeat an admonition of any kind, since her 
 arrival at years to discriminate between the right and the 
 wrong. 
 
 " I wish," said Doctor Ives to his wife, the evening his son 
 had asked their permission to address Clara, "Francis had 
 chosen my little Emily." 
 
 " Clara is a good girl," replied his wife ; " she is so mild, 
 so affectionate, that I doubt not she will make him happy 
 Frank might have done worse at the Hall." 
 
 " For himself he has done well, I hope," said the father : 
 " a young woman of Clara s heart may make any man happy ; 
 but a union with purity, sense, principles, like those of Emily, 
 would be more it would be blissful." 
 
 Mrs. Ives smiled at her husband s animation. " You 
 remind me more of the romantic youth I once knew than 
 of the grave divine. There is but one man I know that 
 I could wish to give Emily to; it is Lumley. If Lumley 
 
128 PRECAUTION. 
 
 sees her, he will woo her; and if he wooes, he will win 
 
 her." 
 
 " And Lumley I believe to be worthy of her," cried the 
 rector, now taking up a candle to retire for the night 
 
PRECAUTION-. 129 
 
 CHAPTER XIH. 
 
 THE following day brought a large party of the military 
 elegants to the Hall, in acceptance of the baronet s hospitable 
 invitation to dinner. Lady Moseley was delighted ; so long 
 as her husband s or her children s interest had demanded a 
 sacrifice of her love of society it had been made without a 
 sigh, almost without a thought. The ties of affinity in her 
 were sacred ; and to the happiness, the comfort of those in 
 which she felt an interest, there were few sacrifices of her 
 own propensities she would not cheerfully have made : it was 
 this very love of her offspring that made her anxious to dis 
 pose of her daughters in wedlock. Her own marriage had 
 been so happy, that she naturally concluded it the state most 
 likely to ensure the happiness of -her children; and with 
 Lady Moseley, as with thousands of others, who averse or 
 unequal to the labors of investigation, jump to conclusions 
 over the long line of connecting reasons, marriage was mar 
 riage, a husband was a husband. It is true there were cer 
 tain indispensables, without which the formation of a con 
 nexion was a thing she considered not within the bounds of 
 nature. There must be fitness in fortune, in condition, in 
 education, and manners ; there must be no glaring evil, al 
 though she did not ask for positive good. A professor of 
 religion herself, had any one told her it was a duty of her 
 calling to guard against a connexion with any but a Christian 
 for her girls, she would have wondered at the ignorance that 
 would embarrass the married state, with feelings exclusively 
 belonging to the individual. Had any one told her it were 
 
 6* 
 
130 PRECAUTION. 
 
 possible to give her child to any but a gentleman, she would 
 have wondered at the want of feeling that could devote the 
 softness of Jane or Emily, to the association with rudeness or 
 vulgarity. It was the misfortune of Lady Moseley to limit her 
 views of marriage to the scene of this life, forgetful that every 
 union gives existence to a long line of immortal beings, whose 
 future welfare depends greatly on the force of early examples, 
 or the strength of early impressions. 
 
 The necessity for restriction in their expenditures had 
 ceased, and the baronet and his wife greatly enjoyed the first 
 opportunity their secluded situation had given them, to draw 
 around their board their fellow-creatures of their own stamp. 
 In the former, it was pure philanthropy ; the same feeling 
 urged him to seek out and relieve distress in humble life ; 
 while in the latter it was love of station and seemliness. It 
 was becoming the owner of Moseley Hall, and it was what 
 the daughters of the Benfield family had done since the con 
 quest. 
 
 " I am extremely sorry," said the good baronet at dinner, 
 " Mr. Denbigh declined our invitation to-day ; I hope he will 
 yet ride over in the evening." 
 
 Looks of a singular import were exchanged between Co 
 lonel Egerton and Sir Herbert Nicholson, at the mention of 
 Denbigh s name; which, as the latter had just asked the 
 favor of taking wine with Mrs. Wilson, did not escape her 
 notice. Emily had innocently mentioned his precipitate re 
 treat the night before ; and he had, when reminded of his 
 engagement to dine with them that very day, and promised 
 an introduction to Sir Herbert Nicholson by John, in her pre 
 sence, suddenly excused himself and withdrawn. With an 
 indefinite suspicion of something wrong, she ventured, there 
 fore, to address Sir Herbert Nicholson. 
 
 " Did you know Mr. Denbigh, in Spain?" 
 
PRECAUTION. 131 
 
 ** I told Miss Emily Moseley, I believe, last evening, that I 
 knew some of the name," replied the gentleman evasively ; 
 then pausing a moment, he added with great emphasis, " there 
 is a circumstance connected with one of that name, I shall 
 ever remember." 
 
 "It was creditable, no doubt, Sir Herbert," cried young 
 Jarvis, sarcastically. The soldier affected not to hear the 
 question, and asked Jane to take wine with him. Lord Chat 
 ter ton, however, putting his knife and fork down gravely, and 
 with a glow of animation, observed with unusual spirit, 
 
 " I have no doubt it was, sir." 
 
 Jarvis in his turn, affected not to hear this speech, and no 
 thing farther was said, as Sir Edward saw that the name of 
 Mr. Denbigh excited a sensation amongst his guests for which 
 he was unable to account, and which he soon forgot himself. 
 
 After the company had retired, Lord Chatterton, however, 
 related to the astonished and indignant family of the baronet 
 the substance of the following scene, of which he had been a 
 witness that morning, while on a visit to Denbigh at the rec 
 tory. They had been sitting in the parlor by themselves, over 
 their breakfast, when a Captain Digby was announced. 
 
 "I have the honor of waiting upon you, Mr. Denbigh," 
 said the soldier, with the stiff formality of a professed duellist, 
 " on behalf of Captain Jarvis, but will postpone my business 
 until you are at leisure," glancing his eye on Chatterton. 
 
 " I know of no business with Captain Jarvis," said Denbigh, 
 politely handing the stranger a chair, " to which Lord Chat 
 terton cannot be privy ; if he will excuse the interruption." 
 The nobleman bowed, and Captain Digby, a little awed by 
 the rank of Denbigh s friend, proceeded in a more measured 
 manner. 
 
 " Captain Jarvis has empowered me, sir, to make any ar 
 rangement with yourself or friend, previously to your meet- 
 
132 PRECAUTION. 
 
 bg, which he hopes may be as soon as possible, if convenient 
 to yourself," replied the soldier, coolly. 
 
 Denbigh viewed him for a moment with astonishment, in 
 silence ; when recollecting himself, he said mildly, and with- 
 out the least agitation, " I cannot affect, sir, not to understand 
 your meaning, but am at a loss to imagine what act of mine 
 can have made Mr. Jarvis wish to make such an appeal." 
 
 " Surely Mr. Denbigh cannot think a man of Captain Jar- 
 vis s spirit can quietly submit to the indignity put upon him 
 last evening, by your dancing with Miss Moseley, after she 
 had declined the honor to himself," said the captain, affecting 
 an incredulous smile. " My Lord Chatterton and myself can 
 easily settle the preliminaries, as Captain Jarvis is much dis 
 posed to consult your wishes, sir, in this affair." 
 
 "If he consults my wishes," said Denbigh, smiling, "he 
 will think no more about it. r 
 
 "At what time, sir, will it be convenient to give him the 
 meeting ?" then, speaking with a kind of bravado gentlemen 
 of his cast are fond of assuming, " my friend would not hurry 
 any settlement of your affairs. * 
 
 " I can never meet Captain Jarvis with hostile intentions," 
 replied Denbigh, calmly. 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 "I decline the combat, sir," said Denbigh, with more 
 firmness. 
 
 " Your reasons, sir, if you please ?" asked Captain Digby, 
 compressing his lips, and drawing up with an air of personal 
 interest. 
 
 "Surely," cried Chatterton, who had with difficulty 
 restrained his feelings, " surely Mr. Denbigh could never so 
 far forget himself as erueMy to expose Miss Moseley by! 
 accepting this invitation." 
 
 "Your reason, my lord," said Denbigh, with interes^ 
 
PRECAUTION. 133 
 
 "would at all times have its weight; but I wish not to 
 qualify an act of what I conceive to be principle by any lesser 
 consideration. I cannot meet Captain Jarvis, or any other 
 man, in private combat. There can exist no necessity for an 
 appeal to arms in any society where the laws rule, and I am 
 averse to bloodshed." 
 
 " Very extraordinary," muttered Captain Digby, somewhat 
 at a loss how to act ; but the calm and collected manner of 
 Denbigh prevented a reply ; and after declining a cup of tea, 
 a liquor he never drank, he withdrew, saying he would 
 acquaint his friend with Mr. Denbigh s singular notions. 
 
 Captain Digby had left Jarvis at an inn, about half a mile 
 from the rectory, for the convenience of receiving early infor 
 mation of the result of his conference. The young man had 
 walked up and down the room during Digby s absence, in a 
 train of reflections entirely new to him. He was the only 
 son of his aged father and mother, the protector of his sisters, 
 and, he might say, the sole hope of a rising family ; and then, 
 possibly, Denbigh might not have meant to offend him he 
 might even have been engaged before they came to the house ; 
 or if not, it might have been inadvertence on the part of Miss 
 Moseley. That Denbigh would offer some explanation he 
 believed, and he had fully made up his mind to accept it, let 
 it be what it might, as his fighting friend entered. 
 
 * Well," said Jarvis, in a tone that denoted anything but 
 a consciousness that all was well. 
 
 "He says he will not meet you," dryly exclaimed his 
 friend, throwing himself into a chair, and ordering a glass of 
 brandy and water. 
 
 " Not meet me !" exclaimed Jarvis, in surprise. " Engaged, 
 perhaps ?" 
 
 " Engaged to his d d conscience." 
 
 " To his conscience ! I do not know whether I rightly 
 
134 PRECAUTION. 
 
 understand you, Captain Digby," said Jarvis, catching his 
 breath, and raising his voice a very little. 
 
 "Then, Captain Jarvis," said his friend, tossing off his 
 brandy, and speaking with great deliberation, " he says that 
 nothing understand me nothing will ever make him fight 
 i duel." 
 
 " He will not !" cried Jarvis, in a loud voice. 
 
 " No, he will not," said Digby, handing his glass to the 
 waiter for a fresh supply. 
 
 "He shall, by !" 
 
 " I don t know how you will make him." 
 
 Make him ! I ll I ll post him." 
 
 " Never do that," said the captain, turning to him, as he 
 leaned his elbows on the table. "It only makes both parties 
 ridiculous. But I ll tell you what you may do. There s a 
 Lord Chatterton who takes the matter up with warmth. If 
 I were not afraid of his interests hurting my promotion, I 
 should have resented something that fell from him myself. 
 He will fight, I dare say, and I ll just return and require an 
 explanation of his words on your behalf." 
 
 " No, no," said Jarvis, rather hastily ; " he he is related 
 to the Moseleys, and I have views there it might injure." 
 
 " Did you think to forward your views by making the 
 young lady the subject of a duel?" asked Captain Digby 
 sarcastically, and eyeing his companion with contempt. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Jarvis; "it would certainly hurt my 
 views." 
 
 " Here s to the health of His Majesty s gallant regi 
 ment of foot !" cried Captain Digby, in a tone of irony, when 
 three-quarters drunk, at the mess-table, that evening, " and 
 to its champion, Captain Henry Jarvis !" 
 
 One of the corps was present accidentally as a guest ; and 
 the following week, the inhabitants of F saw the regi- 
 
PRECAUTION. 135 
 
 ment in their barracks, marching to slow time after the body 
 of Horace Digby. 
 
 Lord Chatterton, in relating the part of the foregoing cir 
 cumstances which fell under his observation, did ample justice 
 to the conduct of Denbigh ; a degree of liberality which did 
 him no little credit, as he plainly saw in that gentleman he 
 had, or soon would have, a rival in the dearest wish of his 
 heart ; and the smiling approbation with which his cousin 
 Emily rewarded him for his candor almost sickened him with 
 apprehension. The ladies were not slow in expressing their 
 disgust at the conduct of Jarvis, or backward in their approval 
 of Denbigh s forbearance. Lady Moseley turned with horror 
 from a picture in which she could see nothing but murder 
 and bloodshed ; but both Mrs. Wilson and her niece secretly 
 applauded a sacrifice of worldly feelings on the altar of duty ; 
 the former admiring the consistent refusal of admitting any 
 collateral inducements, in explanation of his decision : the 
 latter, while she saw the act in its true colors, could hardly 
 help believing that a regard for her feelings had, in a trifling 
 degree, its influence in inducing him to decline the meeting! / 
 Mrs. Wilson saw at once what a hold such unusual conduct 
 would take on the feelings of her niece, and inwardly 
 determined to increase, if possible, the watchfulness she had 
 invariably observed on all he said or did, as likely to elucidate 
 his real character, well knowing that the requisites to bring 
 or to keep happiness in the married state were numerous and 
 indispensable ; and that the display of a particular excellence, 
 however good in itself, was by no means conclusive as to 
 character ; in short, that we perhaps as often meet with a 
 favorite principle as with a besetting sin. 
 
136 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SIR EDWARD MOSELEY had some difficulty in restraining 
 the impetuosity of his son, who was disposed to resent this 
 impertinent interference of young Jarvis with the conduct of 
 his favorite sister ; indeed, the young man only yielded to 
 his profound respect to his father s commands, aided by a 
 strong representation on the part of his sister of the disagree 
 able consequences of connecting her name with such a quarrel. 
 It was seldom the good baronet felt himself called on to act 
 as decidedly as on the present occasion. He spoke to the 
 merchant in warm, but gentleman-like terms, of the conse 
 quences which might have resulted to his own child from the 
 intemperate act of his son ; exculpated Emily entirely from 
 censure, by explaining her engagement to dance with Den 
 bigh, previously to Captain Jarvis s application ; and hinted 
 the necessity, if the affair was not amicably terminated, of 
 protecting the peace of mind of his daughters against any 
 similar exposures, by declining the acquaintance of a neighbor 
 he respected as much as Mr. Jarvis. 
 
 The merchant was a man of few words, but of great 
 promptitude. He had made his fortune, and more than once 
 saved it, by his decision ; and assuring the baronet he should 
 hear no more of it, he took his hat and hurried home from 
 the village, where the conversation passed. On arriving at 
 his own house, he found the family collected in the parlor for 
 a morning ride, and throwing himself into a chair, he broke 
 out on the whole party with great violence. 
 
 "fco, Mrs. Jarvis," he cried, "you would spoil a very 
 
PRECAUTION 1 . 137 
 
 tolerable book-keeper, by wishing to have a soldier in your 
 family ; and there stands the puppy who would have blown 
 out the brains of a deserving young man, if the good sense 
 of Mr. Denbigh had not denied him the opportunity." 
 
 " Mercy !" cried the alarmed matron, on whom Newgate 
 (for her early life had been passed near its walls), with all 
 its horrors, floated, and a contemplation of its punishments 
 had been her juvenile lessons of morality " Harry ! Harry ! 
 would you commit murder ?" 
 
 " Murder !" echoed her son, looking askance, as if dodging 
 the bailiffs. " No, mother ; I wanted nothing but what was 
 fair. Mr. Denbigh would have had an equal chance to 
 blow out my brains I am sure everything would have been 
 fair. * 
 
 " Equal chance !" muttered his father, who had cooled 
 himself, in some measure, by an extra pinch of snuff. " No, 
 sir, you have no brains to lose. But I have promised Sir 
 Edward that you shall make proper apologies to himself, to 
 his daughter, and to Mr. Denbigh." This was rather 
 exceeding the truth, but the alderman prided himself on 
 performing rather more than he promised. 
 
 " Apology !" exclaimed the captain. " Why, sir, the 
 apology is due to me. Ask Colonel Egerton if he ever 
 heard of apologies being made by the challenger." 
 
 " No, sure," said the mother, who, having made out the 
 truth of the matter, thought it was likely enough to be 
 creditable to her child; "Colonel Egerton never heard of 
 such a thing. Did you, colonel ?" 
 
 " Why, madam," said the colonel, hesitatingly, and politely 
 handing the merchant his snuff-box, which, hi his agitation, 
 had fallen on the floor, " circumstances sometimes justify a 
 departure from ordinary measures. You are certainly right 
 as a rule ; but not knowing the particulars in the present 
 
138 PRECAUTION. 
 
 case, it is difficult for me to decide. Miss Jarvis, the tilbury 
 is ready." 
 
 The colonel bowed respectfully to the merchant, kissed his 
 hand to his wife, and led their daughter to his carriage. 
 
 " Do you make the apologies ?" asked Mr. Jarvis, as the 
 door closed. 
 
 " No, sir," replied the captain, sullenly 
 
 " Then you must make your pay answer for the next sii 
 months," cried the father, taking a signed draft on his banker 
 from his pocket, coolly tearing it in two pieces, carefully 
 putting the name in his mouth, and chewing it into a ball. 
 
 " Why, alderman," said his wife (a name she never used 
 unless she had something to gain from her spouse, who loved 
 to hear the appellation after he had relinquished the office), 
 " it appears to me that Harry has shown nothing but a proper 
 spirit. You are unkind indeed you are." 
 
 " A proper spirit 1 In what way ? Do you know any 
 thing of the matter ?" 
 
 " It is a proper spirit for a soldier to fight, I suppose," said 
 the wife, a little at a loss to explain. 
 
 " Spirit, or no spirit, apology, or ten and sixpence." 
 
 "Harry," said his mother, holding up her finger in a 
 menacing attitude, as soon as her husband had left the room 
 (for he had last spoken with the door in his hand), " if you 
 do beg his pardon, you are no son of mine." 
 
 " No," cried Miss Sarah, " nor any brother of mine. It 
 would be insufferably mean." 
 
 " Who will pay my debts ?" asked the son, looking up at 
 the ceiling. 
 
 "Why, I would, my child, if if I had not spent my 
 own allowance." 
 
 " I would," echoed the sister ; " but if we go to Bath, you 
 know, I shall want all my money." 
 
PRECAUTION. 139 
 
 " Who will pay my debts ?" repeated the son. 
 
 " Apology, indeed ! Who is he, that you, a son of 
 Alderman of Mr. Jar vis, of the deanery, B , North 
 amptonshire, should beg his pardon a vagrant that nobody 
 knows P 
 
 " Who will pay my debts ?" again inquired the captain, 
 drumming with his foot." 
 
 " Harry," exclaimed the mother, " do you love money 
 better than honor a soldier s honor ?" 
 
 "No, mother; but I like good eating and drinking. Think, 
 mother ; it s a cool five hundred, and that s a famous deal of 
 money." 
 
 " Harry," cried the mother, in a rage, " you are not fit for 
 a soldier. I wish I were in your place." 
 
 " I wish, with all my heart, you had been for an hour this 
 morning," thought the son. After arguing for some time 
 longer, they compromised, by agreeing to leave it to the 
 decision of Colonel Egerton, who, the mother did not doubt, 
 would applaud her maintaining the Jarvis dignity, a family 
 in which he took quite as much interest as he felt for his 
 own so he had told her fifty times. The captain, however, 
 determined within himself to touch the five hundred, let the 
 colonel decide as he might ; but the colonel s decision obviated 
 all difficulties. The question was put to him by Mrs. Jarvis, 
 on his return from the airing, with no doubt the decision 
 would be favorable to her opinion. The colonel and herself, 
 she said, never disagreed ; and the lady was right for 
 wherever his interest made it desirable to convert Mrs. Jarvis 
 to his side of the question, Egerton had a manner of doing it 
 that never failed to succeed. 
 
 " Why, madam," said he, with one of his most agreeable 
 smiles, "apologies are different things, at different times. 
 You are certainly right in your sentiments, as relates to a 
 
140 PRECAUTION. 
 
 proper spirit in a soldier ; but no one can doubt the spirit of 
 the captain, after the stand he took in this affair ; if Mr. Den 
 bigh would not meet him (9, very extraordinary measure, in 
 deed, I confess), what can your son do more ? He cannot 
 make a man fight against his will, you know." 
 
 " True, true," cried the matron, impatiently, " I do not 
 want him to fight ; heaven forbid ! but why should he, the 
 challenger, beg pardon ? I am sure, to have the thing regu 
 lar, Mr. Denbigh is the one to ask forgiveness." 
 
 The colonel felt at a little loss how to reply, when Jarvis, 
 in whom the thoughts of the five hundred pounds had worked 
 a revolution, exclaimed 
 
 " You know, mother, I accused him that is, I suspected 
 him of dancing with Miss Moseley against my right to her ; 
 now you find that it was all a mistake, and so I had better 
 act with dignity, and confess my error." 
 
 " Oh, by all means," cried the colonel, who saw the danger 
 of an embarrassing rupture between the families, otherwise: 
 "delicacy to your sex particularly requires that, ma am, 
 from your son ;" and he accidentally dropped a letter as he 
 spoke. 
 
 "From Sir Edgar, colonel?" asked Mrs. Jarvis, as he 
 stooped to pick it up. 
 
 " From Sir Edgar, ma am, and he begs to be remembered 
 to yourself and all of your amiable family." 
 
 Mrs. Jarvis inclined her body, in what she intended for a 
 graceful bend, and sighed a casual observer might have 
 thought, with maternal anxiety for the reputation of her child 
 but it was conjugal regret, that the political obstinacy of 
 the alderman had prevented his carrying up an address, and 
 thus becoming Sir Timothy. Sir Edgar s heir prevailed, and 
 the captain received permission to do what he had done 
 several hours before. 
 
PRECAUTION. 141 
 
 On leaving the room, after the first discussion, and before 
 the appeal, the captain had hastened to his father with his 
 concessions. The old gentleman knew too well the influence 
 of five hundred pounds to doubt the effect in the present in 
 stance, and he had ordered his carriage for the excursion. 
 It came, and to the hall they proceeded. The captain found 
 his intended antagonist, and in a rather uncouth manner, he 
 made the required concession. He was restored to his former 
 favor no great distinction and his visits to the hall were 
 suffered, but with a dislike Emily could never conquer, nor 
 at all times conceal. 
 
 Denbigh was occupied with a book, when Jarvis com 
 menced his speech to the baronet and his daughter, and was 
 apparently too much engaged with its contents, to understand 
 what was going on, as the captain blundered through. It 
 was necessary, the captain saw by a glance of his father s 
 eyes, to say something to that gentleman, who had delicately 
 withdrawn to a distant window. His speech was conse 
 quently made here too, and Mrs. Wilson could not avoid 
 stealing a look at them. Denbigh smiled, and bowed in 
 silence. It is enough, thought the widow ; the offence was 
 not against him, it was against his Maker ; he should not ar 
 rogate to himself, in any manner, the right to forgive, or to 
 require apologies the whole is consistent. The subject was 
 never afterwards alluded to : Denbigh appeared to have for 
 gotten it ; and Jane sighed gently, as she devoutly hoped the 
 colonel was not a duellist. 
 
 Several days passed before the deanery ladies could suffi 
 ciently forgive the indignity then* family had sustained, to 
 resume the customary intercourse. Like all other grievances, 
 where the passions are chiefly interested, it was forgotten in 
 time, however, and things were put in some measure on their 
 former footing. The death of Digby served to increase the 
 
142 PRECAUTION. 
 
 horror of the Moseleys, and Jarvis himself felt rather uncom 
 fortable, on more accounts than one, at the fatal termination 
 of the unpleasant business. 
 
 Chatterton, who to his friends had not hesitated to avow 
 his attachment to his cousin, but who had never proposed for 
 her, as his present views and fortune were not, in his estima 
 tion, sufficient for her proper support, had pushed every in 
 terest he possessed, and left no steps unattempted an honor 
 able man could resort to, to effect his object. The desire to 
 provide for his sisters had been backed by the ardor of a 
 passion that had reached its crisis ; and the young peer who 
 could not, in the present state of things, abandon the field to 
 a rival so formidable as Denbigh, even to further his views to 
 preferment, was waiting in anxious suspense the decision on 
 his application. A letter from his friend informed him, his 
 opponent was likely to succeed ; that, in short, all hopes of 
 success had left him. Chatterton was in despair. On the 
 following day, however, he received a second letter from the 
 same friend, unexpectedly announcing his appointment. 
 After mentioning the fact, he went on to say " The cause of 
 this sudden revolution in your favor is unknown to me, and 
 unless your lordship has obtained interest I am ignorant of, 
 it is one of the most singular instances of ministerial caprice 
 I have ever known." Chatterton was as much at a loss as 
 his friend, to understand the affair ; but it mattered not ; he 
 could now offer to Emily it was a patent office of great 
 value, and a few years would amply portion his sisters. That 
 very day, therefore, he proposed, and was refused. 
 
 Emily had a difficult task to avoid self-reproach, in regu 
 lating her deportment on this occasion. She was fond of 
 Chatterton as a relation as her brother s friend as the bro 
 ther of Grace, and even on his own account ; but it was the 
 fondness of a sister. His manner his words, which, although 
 
PRECAUTION. 143 
 
 never addressed to herself, were sometimes overheard uninten 
 tionally, and sometimes reached her through her sisters, had 
 left her in no doubt of his attachment ; she was excessively 
 grieved at the discovery, and had innocently appealed to her 
 aunt for directions how to proceed. Of his intentions she had 
 no doubt, but at the same time he had not put her in a situa 
 tion to dispel his hopes ; as to encouragement, in the usual 
 meaning of the term, she gave none to him, nor to any one 
 else. There are no little attentions that lovers are fond of 
 showing to their mistresses, and which mistresses are fond of 
 receiving, that Emily ever permitted to any gentleman no 
 rides no walks no tete-a-tetes. Always natural and uir= j 
 affected, there was a simple dignity about her that forbade 
 the request, almost the thought, in the gentlemen of her ac 
 quaintance : she had no amusements, no pleasures of any kind 
 in which her sisters were not her companions j and if any 
 thing was on the carpet that required an attendant, John 
 was ever ready. He was devoted to her ; the decided pre 
 ference she gave him over every other man, upon such occa 
 sions, flattered his affection; and he would, at any time, 
 leave even Grace Chatterton to attend his sister. .All this 
 too was without affectation, and generally without notice. 
 Emily so looked the delicacy and reserve she acted with so 
 little ostentation that not even her own sex had affixed to 
 her conduct the epithet of squeamish ; it was difficult, there 
 fore, for her to do anything which would show Lord Chat 
 terton her disinclination to his suit, without assuming a dis 
 like she did not feel, or giving him slights that neither good 
 breeding nor good nature could justify. At one time, indeed, 
 she had expressed a wish to return to Clara ; but this Mrs. 
 Wilson thought would only protract the evil, and she was 
 compelled to wait his own time. The peer himself did not 
 icjoice more in his ability to make the offer, therefore, than 
 
144 PRECAUTION". 
 
 Emily did to have it in her power to decline it. Her rejec 
 tion was firm and unqualified, but uttered with a grace and a 
 tenderness to his feelings, that bound her lover tighter than 
 ever in her chains, and he resolved on immediate flight as his 
 only recourse. 
 
 " I hope nothing unpleasant has occurred to Lord Chat- 
 terton," said Denbigh, with great interest, as he reached the 
 spot where the young peer stood leaning his head against a 
 tree, on his way from the rectory to the hall. 
 
 Chatterton raised his face as he spoke : there were evident 
 traces of tears on it, and Denbigh, greatly shocked, was about 
 to proceed as the other caught his arm. 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh," said the young man, in a voice almost 
 choked with emotion, " may you never know the pain I have 
 felt this morning. Emily Emily Moseley is lost to me 
 for ever." 
 
 For a moment the blood rushed to the face of Denbigh, 
 and his eyes flashed with a look that Chatterton could not 
 stand. He turned, as the voice of Denbigh, in those 
 remarkable tones which distinguished it from every other 
 voice he had ever heard, uttered 
 
 " Chatterton, my lord, we are friends, I hope I wish it, 
 from my heart." 
 
 " Go, Mr. Denbigh go. You were going to Miss Moseley 
 do not let me detain you." 
 
 " I am going with you, Lord Chatterton, unless you forbid 
 it," said Denbigh, with emphasis, slipping his arm through 
 that of the peer. 
 
 For two hours they walked together in the park ; and 
 when they appeared at dinner, Emily wondered why Mr. 
 Denbigh had taken a seat next to her mother, instead of his 
 usual place between herself and her aunt. In the evening, 
 he announced his intention of leaving B for a short time 
 
146 
 
 with Lord Chatterton. They were going to London together ; 
 but he hoped to return within ten days. This sudden 
 determination caused some surprise; but, as the dowager 
 supposed it was to secure the new situation, and the remainder 
 of their friends thought it might be business, it was soon 
 forgotten, though much regretted for the time. The gentle 
 men left the hall that night to proceed to an inn, from which 
 they could obtain a chaise and horses ; and the following 
 morning, when the baronet s family assembled around their 
 social breakfast, they were many miles on the road tx> the 
 metropolis. 
 
146 PTKCAUTIOK. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 LADY CHATTERTON, finding that little was to be expected 
 in her present situation, excepting what she looked forward 
 to from the varying admiration of John Moseley to her 
 youngest daughter, determined to accept an invitation of 
 some standing to a nobleman s seat about fifty miles from 
 the hall, and, in order to keep things in their proper places, 
 to leave Grace with her friends, who had expressed a wish 
 to that effect. Accordingly, the day succeeding the depar 
 ture of her son, she proceeded on her expedition, accompanied 
 by her willing assistant in the matrimonial speculations. 
 
 Grace Chatterton was by nature retiring and delicate ; but 
 her feelings were acute, and on the subject of female pro 
 priety sensitive to a degree, that the great want of it in a 
 relation she loved as much as her mother had possibly in 
 some measure increased. Her affections were too single in 
 their objects to have left her long in doubt as to their nature 
 with respect to the baronet s son ; and it was one of the most 
 painful orders she had ever received, that which compelled 
 her to accept her cousin s invitation. Her mother was 
 peremptory, however, and Grace was obliged to comply. 
 Every delicate feeling she possessed revolted at the step: 
 the visit itself was unwished for on her part ; but there did 
 exist a reason which had reconciled her to that the wedding 
 of Clara. But now to remain, after all her family had gone, 
 in the house where resided the man who had as yet never 
 
PRECAUTION. H7 
 
 solicited those affections she had been unable to withhold, it 
 was humiliating it was degrading her in her own esteem, 
 and she could scarcely endure it. 
 
 It is said that women are fertile in inventions to furtheF 
 their schemes of personal gratification, vanity, or even mischief. 
 It may be it is true ; but the writer of these pages is a man 
 one who has seen much of the other sex, and he is happy 
 to have an opportunity of paying a tribute to female purity 
 and female truth. That there are hearts so disinterested as 
 to lose the considerations of self, in advancing the happiness 
 of those they love ; that there are minds so pure as to recoil 
 with disgust from the admission of deception, indelicacy, or 
 management, he knows ; for he has seen it from long and 
 close examination. He regrets that the very artlessness of 
 those who are most pure in the one sex, subjects them to the 
 suspicions of the grosser materials which compose the other. 
 He believes that innocency, singleness of heart, ardency of 
 feeling, and unalloyed, shrinking delicacy, sometimes exist in 
 the female bosom, to an extent that but few men are happy 
 enough to discover, and that most men believe incompatible 
 with the frailties of human nature. Grace Chatterton 
 possessed no little of what may almost be called this ethereal 
 spirit, and a visit to Bolton parsonage was immediately pro 
 posed by her to Emily. The latter, too innocent herself to 
 suspect the motives of her cousin, was happy to be allowed 
 to devote a fortnight to Clara, uninterrupted by the noisy 
 round of visiting and congratulations which had attended her 
 first week ; and Mrs. Wilson and the two girls left the hall 
 the same day with the Dowager Lady Chatterton. Francis 
 and Clara were happy to receive them, and they were imme 
 diately domesticated in their new abode. Doctor Ives and 
 his wife had postponed an annual visit to a relation of the 
 former on account of the marriage of their son, and they now 
 
148 PRECAUTION*. 
 
 availed themselves of this visit to perform their own engage 
 ment. B appeared in some measure deserted, and 
 
 Egerton had the field almost to himself. Summer had 
 arrived, and the country bloomed in all its luxuriance of 
 vegetation : everything was propitious to the indulgence of 
 the softer passions ; and Lady Moseley, ever a strict adherent 
 to forms and decorum, admitted the intercourse between 
 Jane and her admirer to be carried to as great lengths as 
 those forms would justify. Still the colonel was not explicit ; 
 and Jane, whose delicacy dreaded the exposure of feelings 
 that was involved in his declaration, gave or sought no 
 marked opportunities for the avowal of his passion. Yet 
 they were seldom separate, and both Sir Edward and his 
 wife looked forward to their future union as a thing not to be 
 doubted. Lady Moseley had given up her youngest child so 
 absolutely to the government of her aunt, that she seldom 
 thought of her future establishment. She had that kind of 
 reposing confidence in Mrs. Wilson s proceedings that feeble 
 minds ever bestow on those who are much superior to them ; 
 and she even approved of a system in many respects which 
 she could not endeavor to imitate. Her affection for Emily 
 was not, however, less than what she felt for her other 
 children: she was, in fact, her favorite, and, had the 
 discipline of Mrs. Wilson admitted of so weak an interference, 
 might have been injured as such. 
 
 John Moseley had been able to find out exactly the hour 
 they breakfasted at the deanery, the length of time it took 
 Egerton s horses to go the distance between that house and 
 the hall ; and on the sixth morning after the departure of his 
 aunt, John s bays were in his phaeton, and allowing ten mi 
 nutes for the mile and a half to the park gates, John had got 
 happily off his own territories, before he met the tilbury tra 
 velling eastward. 1 am not to know which road the colonel 
 
PRECAUTION. 149 
 
 may turn, thought John : and after a few friendly, but rather 
 hasty greetings, the bays were again in full trot to the par 
 sonage. 
 
 " John," said Emily, holding out her hand affectionately, 
 and smiling a little archly, as he approached the window 
 where she stood, " you should take a lesson in- driving from 
 Frank ; you have turned more than one hair, I believe." 
 
 " How is Clara ?" cried John, hastily, taking the offered 
 hand, with a kiss, u aye, and aunt Wilson ?" 
 
 " Both well, brother, and out walking this fine morning." 
 
 " How happens it you are not with them ?" inquired the 
 brother, throwing his eyes round the room. " Have they left 
 you alone ?" 
 
 " No, Grace has this moment left me." 
 
 " Well, Emily," said John, taking his seat very compo 
 sedly, but keeping his eyes on the door, " I have come to 
 dine with you. I thought I owed Clara a visit, and have 
 managed nicely to give the colonel the go-by." 
 
 " Clara will be happy to see you, dear John, and so will 
 aunt, and so am I" as she drew aside his fine hair with her 
 fingers to cool his forehead. 
 
 " And why not Grace, too ?" asked John, with a look of a 
 little alarm. 
 
 " And Grace, too, I fancy but here she is, to answer for 
 herself." 
 
 Grace said little on her entrance, but her eyes were 
 brighter than usual, and she looked so contented and happy, 
 that Emily observed to her, in an affectionate manner 
 
 " I knew the eau-de-Cologne would do your head good." 
 
 " Is Miss Chatterton unwell T asked John, with a look of 
 interest. 
 
 " A slight headach," said Grace, faintly, " but I feel much 
 better." 
 
150 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Want of air and exercise : my horses are at the door ; 
 the phaeton will hold three easily ; run, sister, for your hat," 
 almost pushing Emily out of the room as he spoke. In a few 
 minutes the horses might have been suffering for air, but 
 surely not for exercise. 
 
 " I wish," cried John, with impatience, when at the dis 
 tance of a couple of miles from the parsonage, " that gentle 
 man had driven his gig out of the road." 
 
 There was a small group on one side of the road, consisting 
 of a man, a woman, and several children. The owner of the 
 gig had alighted, and was in the act of speaking to them, as 
 the phaeton approached at a great rate. 
 
 " John," cried Emily, in terror, " You never can pass you 
 will upset us." 
 
 " There is no danger, dear Grace," said the brother, endea 
 voring to check his horses ; he succeeded in part, but not so 
 as to prevent his passing at a spot where the road was very 
 narrow ; a wheel hit violently against a stone, and some of 
 his works gave way. The gentleman immediately hastened 
 to his assistance it was Denbigh. 
 
 " Miss Moseley !" cried he, in a voice of the tenderest in 
 terest, " you are not hurt in the least, I hope." 
 
 "No," said Emily, recovering her breath, "only fright 
 ened ;" and taking his hand, she sprang from the carriage. 
 
 Miss Chatterton found courage to wait quietly for the care 
 of John. His " dear Grace," had thrilled on every nerve, 
 and she afterwards often laughed at Emily for her terror 
 when there was so little danger. The horses were not in the 
 least frightened, and after a little mending, John declared all 
 was safe. To ask Emily to enter the carriage again, was to 
 exact no little sacrifice of her feelings to her reason ; and she 
 stood in a suspense that too plainly showed that the terror she 
 had been in had not left her. 
 
PRECAl TIOX. 151 
 
 " If," said Denbigh, modestly, " if Mr. Moseley will take 
 the ladies in my gig, I will drive the phaeton to the hall, as 
 it is rather unsafe for so heavy a load." 
 
 " No, no, Denbigh," said John, coolly, you are not used 
 it such mettled nags as mine it would be indiscreet for you 
 to drive them : if, however, you will be good enough to take 
 Emily into your gig Grace Chatterton, I am sure, is not 
 afraid to trust my driving, and we might all get back as well 
 as ever." 
 
 Grace gave her hand almost unconsciously to John, and 
 he handed her into the phaeton, as Denbigh stood willing to 
 execute his part of the arrangement, but too diffident to speak. 
 It was not a moment for affectation, if Emily had been capa 
 ble of it, and blushing with the novelty of her situation, she 
 took her place in the gig. Denbigh stopped and turned his 
 eyes on the little group with which he had been talking, and 
 at that moment they caught the attention of John also. The 
 latter inquired after their situation. The tale was a piteous 
 one, the distress evidently real. The husband had been 
 gardener to a gentleman in a neighboring county, and he had 
 been lately discharged, to make way, in the difficulty of the 
 times, for a relation of the steward, who was in want of the 
 place. Suddenly thrown on the world, with a wife and four 
 children, with but the wages of a week for his and their sup 
 port, they had travelled thus far on the way to a neighboring 
 parish, where he said he had a right to, and must seek, public 
 assistance. The children were crying for hunger, and the 
 mother, who was a nurse, had been unable to walk further 
 than where she sat, but had sunk on the ground overcome 
 with fatigue, and weak from the want of nourishment. 
 Neither Emily nor Grace could refrain from tears at the re 
 cital of these heavy woes ; the want of sustenance was some 
 thing so shocking in itself, and brought, as it were, immedi- 
 
f; 
 
 152 PRECAUTION. 
 
 iately before their eyes, the appeal was irresistible. John 
 forgot his bays forgot even Grace, as he listened to the 
 affecting story related by the woman, who was much revived 
 by some nutriment Denbigh had obtained from a cottage 
 near them, and to which they were about to proceed by his 
 directions, as Moseley interrupted them. His hand shook, his 
 eyes glistened as he took his purse from his pocket, and gave 
 several guineas from it to the mendicant. Grace thought 
 John had never appeared so handsome as the moment he 
 handed the money to the gardener ; his face glowed with 
 unusual excitement, and his symmetry had lost the only 
 charm he wanted in common, softness. Denbigh, after wait 
 ing patiently until Moseley had bestowed his alms, gravely 
 repeated his directions for their proceeding to the cottage, 
 when the carriages moved on. 
 
 Emily revolved in her mind, during their short ride, the 
 horrid distress she had witnessed. It had taken a strong 
 hold on her feelings. Like her brother, she was warm 
 hearted and compassionate, if we may use the term, to 
 excess ; and had she been prepared with the means, the 
 gardener would have reaped a double harvest of donations. 
 It struck her, at the moment, unpleasantly, that Denbigh 
 had been so backward in his liberality. The man had rather 
 sullenly displayed half a crown as his gift, in contrast with 
 the golden shower of John s generosity. It had been even 
 somewhat offensive in its exhibition, and urged her brother 
 to a more hasty departure than, under other circumstances, 
 he would just at the moment have felt disposed to make. 
 Denbigh, however, had taken no notice of the indignity, and 
 continued his directions in the same mild and benevolent 
 manner he had used during the whole interview. Half a 
 crown was but little, thought Emily, for a family that was 
 starving ; and, unwilling to judge harshly of one she had 
 
PRECAUTION. 153 
 
 begun to value so highly, she came to the painful conclusion, 
 her companion was not as rich as he deserved to be. Emily 
 had not yet to learn that charity was in proportion to the 
 means of the donor, and a gentle wish insensibly stole over 
 her that Denbigh might in some way become more richly 
 endowed with the good things of this world. Until this 
 moment her thoughts had never turned to his temporal con 
 dition. She knew he was an officer in the army, but of what 
 rank, or even of what regiment, she was ignorant. He had 
 frequently touched in his conversations on the customs of the 
 different countries he had seen. He had served in Italy, in 
 the north of Europe, in the West Indies, in Spain. Of the 
 manners of the people, of their characters, he not unfrequently 
 spoke, and with a degree of intelligence, a liberality, a just 
 ness of discrimination, that had charmed his auditors ; but 
 on the point of personal service he had maintaiued a silence 
 that was inflexible, and not a little surprising more particu 
 larly of that part of his history which related to the latter 
 country ; from all which she was rather inclined to think his 
 military rank was not as high as she thought he merited, and 
 that possibly he felt an awkwardness of putting it in contrast 
 with the more elevated station of Colonel Egerton. The 
 same idea had struck the whole family, and prevented any 
 inquiries which might be painful. He was so connected with 
 the mournful event of his father s death, that no questions 
 could be put with propriety to the doctor s family ; and if 
 Francis had been more communicative to Clara, she was too 
 good a wife to mention it, and her own family was possessed 
 of too just a sense of propriety to touch upon points that 
 might bring her conjugal fidelity in question. 
 
 Though Denbigh appeared a little abstracted during the 
 ride, his questions concerning Sir Edward and her friends 
 were kind and affectionate. As they approached the house ; 
 
 7* 
 
154 PRECAUTION. 
 
 he suffered his horse to walk, and, after some hesitation, he 
 took a letter from his pocket, and handing it to her, said 
 
 " I hope Miss Moseley will not think me impertinent in 
 becoming the bearer of a letter from her cousin, Lord Chat- 
 terton. He requested it so earnestly, that I could not refuse 
 taking what I am sensible is a great liberty ; for it would be 
 deception did I affect to be ignorant of his admiration, or of 
 his generous treatment of a passion she cannot return. 
 Chatterton," and he smiled mournfully, " is yet too true to 
 cease his commendations." 
 
 Emily blushed painfully, but she took the letter in silence ; 
 and as Denbigh pursued the topic no further, the little dis 
 tance they had to go was ridden in silence. On entering the 
 gates, however, he said, inquiringly, and with much interest 
 
 "I sincerely hope I have not given offence to your delicacy, 
 Miss Moseley. Lord Chatterton has made me an unwilling 
 confidant. I need not say the secret is sacred, on more 
 accounts than one." 
 
 " Surely not, Mr. Denbigh," replied Emily, in a low tone ; 
 and the gig stopping, she hastened to accept the assistance 
 of her brother to alight. 
 
 u Well, sister," cried John, laughing, * Denbigh is a 
 disciple .to Frank s system of horse-flesh. Hairs smooth 
 enough here, I see. Grace and I thought you would never 
 get home." Now, John fibbed a little, for neither Grace nor 
 he had thought in the least about them, or anything else. but 
 each other, from the moment they separated until the gig 
 arrived. 
 
 Emily made no reply to this speech, and as the gentlemen 
 were engaged in giving directions concerning their horses, she 
 seized an opportunity to read Chatterton s letter. 
 
 " I avail myself of the return of my friend Mr. Denbigh to 
 
PRECAUTION. 155 
 
 that happy family from which reason requires my self-banish 
 ment to assure my amiable cousin of my continued respect 
 for her character, and to convince her of my gratitude for the 
 tenderness she has manifested to feelings she cannot return. 
 I may even venture to tell her what few women would be 
 pleased to hear, but what I know Emily Moseley too well to 
 doubt, for a moment, will give her unalloyed pleasure that 
 owing to the kind, the benevolent, the brotherly attentions of 
 my true friend, Mr. Denbigh, I have already gained a peace 
 of mind and resignation I once thought was lost to me for 
 ever. Ah ! Emily, my beloved cousin, in Denbigh you will 
 find, I doubt not, a mind, principles, congenial to your own. 
 It is impossible that he could see you without wishing to 
 possess such a treasure ; and, if I have a wish that is now 
 uppermost in my heart, it is, that you may learn to esteem 
 each other as you ought, when, I doubt not, you will become 
 as happy as you both deserve to be. What greater earthly 
 blessing can I implore upon you ! 
 
 " CHATTERTON." 
 
 Emily, while reading this epistle, felt a confusion but little 
 inferior to that which would have oppressed her had Denbigh 
 himself been at her feet, soliciting that love Chatterton 
 thought him so worthy of possessing ; and when they met, 
 she could hardly look in the face a man who, it would seem, 
 had been so openly selected by another, as the fittest to be 
 her partner for life. The unaltered manner of Denbigh him 
 self, however, soon convinced her that he was entirely igno 
 rant of the contents of the note, and it greatly relieved her 
 from the awkwardness his presence at first occasioned. 
 
 Francis soon returned, accompanied by his wife and aunt, 
 and was overjoyed to find the guest who had so unexpect 
 edly arrived. His parents had not yet returned from their 
 
156 PRECAUTION. 
 
 visit, and Denbigh, of course, would remain at his present 
 quarters. John promised to continue with them for a couple 
 of days : and everything was soon settled to the perfect sa 
 tisfaction of the whole party. Mrs. Wilson knew the great 
 danger of suffering young people to be inmates of the same 
 house too well, wantonly to incur the penalties, but her visit 
 had nearly expired, and it might give her a better opportu 
 nity of judging Denbigh s character ; and Grace Chatterton, 
 though too delicate to follow herself, was well contented to be 
 followed, especially when John Moseley was the pursuer. 
 
PRECAUTION. 167 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " I AM sorry, aunt, Mr. Denbigh is not rich," said Emily to 
 Mrs. Wilson, after they had retired in the evening, almost un 
 conscious of what she uttered. The latter looked at her 
 niece in surprise, at a remark so abrupt, and one so very dif 
 ferent from the ordinary train of Emily s reflections, as she 
 required an explanation. Emily, slightly coloring at the 
 channel her thoughts had insensibly strayed into, gave her 
 aunt an account of their adventure in the course of the morn 
 ing s drive, and touched lightly on the difference in the 
 amount of the alms of her brother and those of Mr. Denbigh. 
 
 " The bestowal of money is not always an act of charity," 
 observed Mrs. Wilson, gravely, and the subject was dropped : 
 thongh neither ceased to dwell on it in her thoughts, until 
 sleep closed the eyes of both. 
 
 The following day Mrs. Wilson invited Grace and Emily 
 to accompany her in a walk the gentlemen having preceded 
 them in pursuit of then* different avocations. Francis had his 
 regular visits of spiritual consolation ; John had gone to the 
 hall for his pointers and fowling-piece, the season for wood 
 cock having arrived; and Denbigh had proceeded no one 
 knew whither. On gaming the high-road, Mrs. Wilson de 
 sired her companions to lead the way to the cottage where 
 the family of the mendicant gardener had been lodged, and 
 thither they soon arrived. On knocking at the door, they 
 were immediately admitted to an outer room, hi which they 
 found the wife of the laborer who inhabited the building, en 
 gaged in her customary morning employments. They ex- 
 
158 
 
 plained the motives of the visit, and were told that the family 
 they sought were in an adjoining room, but she rather thought 
 at that moment engaged with a clergyman who had called a 
 quarter of an hour before. " I expect, my lady, it s the new 
 rector, who everybody says is so good to the poor and needy ; 
 but I have not found time yet to go to church to hear his 
 reverence preach, ma am," courtseying and handing the fresh 
 dusted chairs to her unexpected visitors. The ladies seated 
 themselves, too delicate to interrupt Francis in his sacred du 
 ties, and were silently waiting his appearance, when a voice 
 was distinctly heard through the thin partition, the first note 
 of which undeceived them as to the character of the garden 
 er s visitor. 
 
 " It appears then, Davis, by your own confession," said 
 Denbigh, mildly, but in a tone of reproof, " that your frequent 
 acts of intemperance have at least given ground for the 
 steward s procuring your discharge if it has not justified him 
 in doing that which his duty to your common employer re 
 quired." 
 
 " It is hard, sir," replied the man sullenly, " to be thrown 
 on the world with a family like mine, to make way for a 
 younger man with but one child." 
 
 " It may be unfortunate for your wife and children," said 
 Denbigh, "but just, as respects yourself. I have already 
 convinced you, that my interference or reproof is not an 
 empty one : carry the letter to the person to whom it is 
 directed, and I pledge you, you shall have a new trial ; and 
 should you conduct yourself soberly, and with propriety, con 
 tinued and ample support ; the second letter will gain your 
 children immediate admission to the school I mentioned ; and 
 I now leave you, with an earnest injunction to remember that 
 habits of intemperance not only disqualify you to support 
 those who have such great claimp on your protection, but in- 
 
PRECAUTION. 159 
 
 evitably lead to a loss of those powers which are necessary to 
 insure your own eternal welfare." 
 
 " May Heaven bless your honor," cried the woman, with 
 fervor, and evidently in tears, " both for what you have said, 
 and what you have done. Thomas only wants to be taken 
 from temptation, to become a sober man again an honest 
 one he has ever been, I am sure." 
 
 " I have selected a place for him," replied Denbigh, 
 " where there is no exposure through improper companions, 
 and everything now depends upon himself, under Provi 
 dence." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson had risen from her chair on the first intimation 
 given by Denbigh of his intention to go, but had paused at 
 the door to listen to this last speech ; when beckoning her 
 companions, she hastily withdrew, having first made a small 
 present to the woman of the cottage, and requested her not 
 to mention their having called. 
 
 " What becomes now of the comparative charity of your 
 brother and Mr. Denbigh, Emily ?" asked Mrs. Wilson, as 
 they gained the road on their return homewards. Emily was 
 not accustomed to hear any act of John slightly spoken of 
 without at least manifesting some emotion, which betrayed 
 her sisterly regard ; but on the present occasion she chose to 
 be silent ; while Grace, after waiting in expectation that her 
 cousin would speak, ventured to say timidly 
 
 " I am sure, dear madam, Mr. Moseley was very liberal, 
 and the tears were in his eyes while he gave the money* I 
 was looking directly at them the whole time." 
 
 "John is compassionate by nature," continued Mrs. Wilson, 
 with an almost imperceptible smile. " I have no doubt his 
 sympathies were warmly enlisted in behalf of this family 
 and possessing much, he gave liberally. I have no doubt he 
 would have undergone personal privation to have relieved 
 
160 PRECAUTION. 
 
 their distress, and endured both pain and labor, with such an 
 excitement before him. But what is all that to the charity 
 of Mr. Denbigh ?" 
 
 Grace was unused to contend, and, least of all, with Mrs. 
 Wilson; but, unwilling to abandon John to such censure, 
 with increased animation, she said 
 
 "If bestowing freely, and feeling for the distress you 
 relieve, be not commendable, madam, I am sure I am 
 ignorant what is." 
 
 " That compassion for the woes of others is beautiful in 
 itself, and the want of it an invariable evidence of corruption 
 from too much, and an ill-governed, intercourse with the 
 world, I am willing to acknowledge, my dear Grace," said 
 Mrs. Wilson, kindly ; " but the relief of misery, where the 
 heart has not undergone this hardening ordeal, is only a 
 relief to our own feelings : this is compassion ; but Christian 
 charity is a higher order of duty : it enters into every sensa 
 tion of the heart ; disposes us to judge, as well as to act, 
 favorably to our fellow- creatures; is deeply seated in the 
 sense of our own unworthiness ; keeps a single eye, in its 
 dispensations of temporal benefits, to the everlasting happi 
 ness of the objects of its bounty ; is consistent, well regulated ; 
 in short," and Mrs. Wilson s pale cheek glowed with an 
 unusual richness of color " it is an humble attempt to copy 
 after the heavenly example of our Redeemer, in sacrificing 
 ourselves to the welfare of others, and does and must proceed 
 from a love of his person, and an obedience to his man 
 dates." 
 
 "And Mr. Denbigh, aunt," exclaimed Emily, the blood 
 mantling to her cheeks with a sympathetic glow, while she 
 lost all consideration for John in the strength of her feelings, 
 u his charity you think to be of this description ?" 
 
 " So far, my child, as we can understand motives from the 
 
PRECAUTION. 161 
 
 nature of the conduct, such appears to have been the charity 
 of Mr. Denbigh." 
 
 Grace was silenced, if not convinced ; and the ladies con 
 tinued their walk, lost in their own reflections, until they 
 reached a bend in the road which hid the cottage from view. 
 Emily involuntarily turned her head as they arrived at the 
 spot, and saw that Denbigh had approached within a few 
 paces of them. On joining them, he commenced his com 
 plimentary address in such a way as convinced them the 
 cottager had been true to the injunction given by Mrs. Wilson. 
 No mention was made of the gardener, and Denbigh began 
 a lively description of some foreign scenery, of which their 
 present situation reminded him. The discourse was main 
 tained with great interest by himself and Mrs. Wilson for the 
 remainder of their walk. 
 
 It was yet early when they reached the parsonage, where 
 they found John, who had driven to the hall to breakfast, 
 and who, instead of pursuing his favorite amusement of 
 shooting, laid down his gun as they entered, observing, " It 
 is rather soon yet for the woodcocks, and I believe I will 
 listen to your entertaining conversation, ladies, for the re 
 mainder of the morning." He threw himself upon a sofa at 
 no great distance from Grace, and in such a position as 
 enabled him, without rudeness, to study the features of her 
 lovely face, while Denbigh read aloud to the ladies Camp 
 bell s beautiful description of wedded love, in Gertrude of 
 Wyoming. 
 
 There was a chastened correctness in the ordinary mannei 
 of Denbigh which wore the appearance of the influence of 
 his reason, and a subjection of the passions, that, if anything, 
 gave him less interest with Emily than had it been marked 
 by an evidence of stronger feeling. But on the present occa 
 sion, this objection was removed : his reading was impressive ; 
 
162 PRECAUTION. 
 
 he dwelt on those passages which most pleased him with a 
 warmth of eulogium fully equal to her own undisguised sen 
 sations. In the hour occupied in the reading this exquisite 
 little poem, and in commenting on its merits and sentiments 
 Denbigh gained more on her imagination than in all theii 
 former intercourse. His ideas were as pure, as chastened; 
 and almost as vivid as those of the poet ; and Emily listened 
 to his periods with intense attention, as they flowed from him 
 in language as glowing as his ideas. The poem had been 
 first read to her by her brother, and she was surprised to 
 discover how she had overlooked its beauties on that occa 
 sion. Even John acknowledged that it certainly appeared a 
 different thing now from what he had then thought it ; but 
 Emily had taxed his declamatory power in the height of the 
 pheasant season, and, somehow or other, John now imagined 
 that Gertrude was just such a delicate, feminine, warm 
 hearted domestic girl as Grace Chatterton. As DeDbigh 
 closed the book, and entered into a general conversation with 
 Clara and her sister, John followed Grace to a window, and 
 speaking in a tone of unusual softness for him, he said 
 
 " Do you know, Miss Chatterton, I have accepted your 
 brother s invitation to go into Suffolk this summer, and that 
 you are to be plagued with me and my pointers again ?" 
 
 " Plagued, Mr. Moseley !" said Grace, in a voice even softer 
 than his own. " I am sure I am sure, we none of us think 
 you or your dogs in the least a plague." 
 
 " Ah ! Grace," and John was about to become what he 
 had never been before sentimental when ho saw the 
 carriage of Chatterton, containing the dowager and Catherine, 
 entering the parsonage gates. 
 
 Pshaw ! thought John, there comes Mother Chatterton. 
 " Ah ! Grace," said John, " there are your mother and sister 
 returned already." 
 
PRECAUTION . 163 
 
 "Already!" said the young lady, and, f^i f he firsi, time in 
 ber life, she felt rather unlike a dutiful chiM. Fi^e minutes 
 could have made no great difference to her mother, and she 
 would greatly have liked to hear what John Moseley meant 
 to have said ; for the alteration in his manner convinced hei 
 that his first " ah ! Grace" was to have been continued in s 
 somewhat different language from that in which the second 
 " ah ! Grace" was ended. 
 
 Young Moseley and her daughter, standing together at the 
 open window, caught the attention of Lady Chatterton the 
 moment she got a view of the house, and she entered with 2 
 good humor she had not felt since the disappointment in her 
 late expedition in behalf of Catherine ; for the gentleman she 
 had had in view in this excursion had been taken up by 
 another rover, acting on her own account, and backed by a 
 little more wit and a good deal more money than what Kate 
 could be fairly thought to possess. Nothing further in that 
 quarter offering in the way of her occupation, she turned her 
 horses heads towards London, that great theatre on which 
 there never was a loss for actors. The salutations had hardly 
 passed before, turning to John, she exclaimed, with what she 
 intended for a most motherly smile, " What ! not shooting 
 this fine day, Mr. Moseley ? I thought you never missed * 
 day in the season." 
 
 " It is rather early yet, my lady," said John, coolly, a litth 
 alarmed by the expression of her countenance. 
 
 " Oh !" continued the dowager, in the same strain, " I se* 
 how it is ; the ladies have too many attractions for so gallan? 
 a young man as yourself." Now, as Grace, her own daugh 
 ter, was the only lady of the party who could reasonably bt 
 supposed to have much influence over John s movements & 
 young gentleman seldom caring as much for his own as fo. 
 other people s sisters, this may be fairly set down as a pretty 
 
164 PRECAUTION. 
 
 broad hint of the opinion the dowager entertained of the real 
 state of things; and John saw it, and Grace saw it. The 
 former coolly replied, " Why, upon the whole, if you will ex 
 cuse the neglect, I will try a shot this fine day." In five 
 minutes, Carlo and Rover were both delighted. Grace kept 
 her place at the window, from a feeling she could not define, 
 and of which perhaps she was unconscious, until the gate 
 closed, and the shrubbery hid the sportsman from her sight, 
 and then she withdrew to her room to weep. 
 
 Had Grace Chatterton been a particle less delicate less 
 
 retiring blessed with a managing mother, as she was, John 
 Moseley would not have thought another moment about her. 
 But, on every occasion when the dowager made any of her 
 open attacks, Grace discovered so much distress, so much 
 unwillingness to second them, that a suspicion of a confede 
 racy never entered his brain. It is not to be supposed that 
 Lady Chatterton s manoeuvres were limited to the direct and 
 palpable schemes we have mentioned ; no these were the 
 effervescence, the exuberance of her zeal ; but as is generally 
 the case, they sufficiently proved the ground-work of all her 
 other machinations ; none of the little artifices of such as pla 
 cing of leaving alone of showing similarity of tastes of 
 compliments to the gentlemen, were neglected. This latter 
 
 r business she had contrived to get Catherine to take off her 
 hands ; but Grace could never pay a compliment in her life, 
 unless changing of color, trembling, undulations of the bosom, 
 and such natural movements can be so called ; but she loved 
 dearly to receive them from John Moseley. 
 
 " Well, my child," said the mother, as she seated herself 
 by the side of her daughter, who hastily endeavored to con 
 ceal her tears, " when are we to have another wedding ? I 
 trust everything is settled between you and Mr. Moseley, by 
 this time." 
 
PRECAUTION. 165 
 
 " Mother ! Mother !" said Grace, nearly gasping for breath, 
 " Mother, you will break my heart, indeed you will." She 
 hid her face in the clothes of the bed by which she sat, and 
 Wept with a feeling of despair. 
 
 " Tut, my dear," replied the dowager, not noticing her an 
 guish, or mistaking it for a girlish shame, " you young people 
 are fools in these matters, but Sir Edward and myself will 
 arrange everything as it should be." 
 
 The daughter now not only looked up, but sprang from her 
 seat, her hands clasped together, her eyes fixed in horror, her 
 cheek pale as death ; but the mother had retired, and Grace 
 sank back into her chair with a sensation of disgrace, of 
 despair, which could not have been surpassed, had she really 
 merited the obloquy and shame which she thought* weio 
 about to be heaped upon her. 
 
166 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE succeeding morning, the whole party, with the ex 
 ception of Denbigh, returned to the hall. Nothing had 
 occurred out of the ordinary course of the colonel s assidui 
 ties : and Jane, whose sense of propriety forbad the indul 
 gence of premeditated tete-a-tetes, and such little accompani 
 ments of every-day attachments, was rejoiced to see a sister 
 she loved, and an aunt she respected, once more in the bosom 
 of her family. 
 
 The dowager impatiently waited an opportunity to effect, 
 what she intended for a master-stroke of policy in the dis 
 posal of Grace. Like all other managers, she thought no one 
 equal to herself in devising ways and means, and was unwil 
 ling to leave anything to nature. Grace had invariably 
 thwarted all her schemes by her obstinacy; and as she 
 thought young Moseley really attached to her, she determined 
 by a bold stroke to remove the impediments of false shame, 
 and the dread of repulse, which she believed alone kept the 
 youth from an avowal of his wishes, and get rid at once of a 
 plague that had annoyed her not a little her daughter s 
 delicacy. 
 
 Sir Edward spent an hour every morning in his library, 
 overlooking his accounts, and in other necessary employments 
 of a similar nature, and it was here she determined to have 
 the conference. 
 
 "My Lady Chatterton, you do me honor," said the baronet, 
 handing her a chair on her entrance. 
 
 " Upon my word, cousin," cried the dowager, " you have 
 
PRECAUTION. 167 
 
 a very convenient apartment here," looking around her in 
 affected admiration of all she saw. 
 
 The baronet replied, and a short discourse on the arrange- 
 rnents of the whole house insensibly led to some remarks on 
 the taste of his mother, the Honorable Lady Moseley (a 
 Chatterton), until, having warmed the feelings of the old 
 gentleman by some well-timed compliments of that nature, 
 the ventured on the principal object of her visit. 
 
 " I am happy to find, Sir Edward, you are so well pleased 
 with the family as to wish to make another selection from it. 
 I sincerely hope it may prove as judicious as the former 
 one." 
 
 Sir Edward was a little at a loss to understand her mean 
 ing, although he thought it might allude to his son, who he 
 had some time suspected had views on Grace Chatterton ; 
 and willing to know the truth, and rather pleased to find 
 John had selected a young woman he loved in his heart, he 
 observed 
 
 " I am not sure I rightly understand your ladyship, though 
 I hope I do." 
 
 "No !" cried the dowager, in well-counterfeited affectation 
 of surprise. " Perhaps, after all, maternal anxiety has 
 deceived me, then. Mr. Moseley could hardly have ventured 
 to proceed without your approbation." 
 
 " I have ever declined influencing any of my children, Lady 
 Chatterton," said the baronet, " and John is not ignorant of 
 my sentiments. I sincerely hope, however, you allude to an 
 attachment to Grace ?" 
 
 "I did certainly, Sir Edward," said the lady, hesitatingly. 
 " I may be deceived ; but you must understand the feelings 
 of a mother, and a young woman ought not to be trifled 
 with." 
 
 " My son is incapable of trifling, I hope," cried Sir Edward, 
 
1G8 PRKCAITION. 
 
 with animation, " and, least of all, with Grace Chatterton. 
 No; you are quite right. If he has made his choice, he 
 should not be ashamed to avow it." 
 
 " I would not wish, on any account, to hurry matters," 
 said the dowager ; " but the report which is abroad will 
 prevent other young men from putting in their claims, Sir 
 Edward" (sighing). " I have a mother s feelings : if I have 
 been hasty, your goodness will overlook it." And Lady 
 Chatterton placed her handkerchief to her eyes, to conceal 
 the tears that did not flow. 
 
 Sir Edward thought all this very natural, and as it 
 should be, and he sought an early conference with his 
 sou. 
 
 " John," said the father, taking his hand kindly, " you have 
 no reason to doubt my affection or my compliance to your 
 wishes. Fortune is a thing out of the question with a young 
 man of your expectations." And Sir Edward, in his eager 
 ness to smoothe the way, went on : " You can live here, or 
 occupy my small seat in Wiltshire. I can allow you five 
 thousand a year, with much ease to myself. Indeed, your 
 mother and myself would both straighten ourselves, to add 
 to your comforts ; but it is unnecessary we have enough, 
 and you have enough." 
 
 Sir Edward, in a few moments, would have settled every 
 thing to the dowager s perfect satisfaction, had not John 
 interrupted him by the exclamation of 
 
 " To what do you allude, father ?" 
 
 "Allude?" said Sir Edward, simply. "Why, Grace 
 Chatterton, my son." 
 
 " Grace Chatterton ! Sir Edward. What have I to do 
 with Grace Chatterton?" 
 
 " Her mother has made me acquainted with your proposals, 
 and" 
 
PRECAUTION. 169 
 
 " Proposals !" 
 
 "Attentions, I ought to have said; and you have no 
 reason to apprehend anything from me, my child." 
 
 " Attentions !" said John, haughtily. " I hope Lady 
 Chatterton does not accuse me of improper attentions to her 
 daughter ?" 
 
 " No, not improper, my son," said his father : " on the con 
 trary, she is much pleased with them." 
 
 " She is, is she ? But I am displeased that she should 
 undertake to put constructions on my acts that no attention 
 or words of mine will justify." 
 
 It was now Sir Edward s turn to be surprised. He had 
 thought he was doing his son a kindness, when he had only 
 been forwarding the dowager s schemes; but averse from 
 contention, and wondering at his cousin s mistake, which he 
 at once attributed to her anxiety in behalf of a favorite 
 daughter, he told John he was sorry there had been any 
 misapprehension, and left him. 
 
 " No, no," said Moseley, internally, as he paced up and 
 down his father s library, "my lady dowager, you are not 
 going to force a wife down my throat. If you do, I am 
 mistaken ; and Grace, if Grace" John softened and began 
 to feel unhappy a little, but anger prevailed. 
 
 From the moment Grace Chatterton conceived a dread of 
 her mother s saying anything to Sir Edward, her -whole con- 
 duct was altered. She could hardly look any of the family 
 in the face, and it was her most ardent wish that they might 
 depart. John she avoided as she would an adder, although 
 it nearly broke her heart to do so. 
 
 Mr. Benfield had stayed longer than usual, and he now 
 wished to return. John Moseley eagerly profited by this 
 opportunity, and the very day after the conversation in the 
 librarv he went to Benfield Lodge as a dutiful nephew, to 
 
 8 
 
170 PRECAUTION. 
 
 see his venerable uncle safely restored once more to the abode 
 of his ancestors. 
 
 Lady Chatterton now perceived, when too late, that she 
 
 had overshot her mark, while, at the same time, she wondered 
 
 at the reason of a result so strange from such well-digested 
 
 and well-conducted plans. She determined, however, never 
 
 . again to interfere between her daughter and the baronet s 
 
 Lheir ; concluding, with a nearer approach to the truth than 
 
 always accompanied her deductions, that they resembled 
 
 ordinary lovers in neither their temperaments nor opinions. 
 
 Perceiving no further use in remaining any longer at the 
 hall, she took her leave, and, accompanied by both her 
 daughters, proceeded to the capital, where she expected to 
 meet her son. 
 
 Dr. Ives and his wife returned to the rectory on the same 
 day, and Denbigh immediately resumed his abode under 
 their roof. The intercourse between the rector s family and 
 Sir Edward s was renewed with all its former friendly 
 confidence. 
 
 Colonel Egerton began to speak of his departure also, but 
 
 hinted at intentions of visiting L at the period of the 
 
 baronet s visit to his uncle, before he proceeded to town in 
 the winter. 
 
 L was a small village on the coast, within a mile of 
 
 Benfield Lodge ; and from its natural convenience, it had 
 long been resorted to by the neighboring gentry for the 
 benefit of sea bathing. The baronet had promised Mr. 
 BenSeld his visit should be made at an earlier day than 
 usual, in order to gratify Jane with a visit to Bath, before 
 they went to London, at which town they were promised by 
 Mrs. Jarvis the pleasure of her society, and that of her son 
 And daughters. 
 
 PRECAUTION is a word of simple meaning in itself, but va 
 
PRECAUTION. 171 
 
 rious are the ways adopted by different individuals in this life 
 to enforce its import ; and not a few are the evils which it is 
 thought necessary to guard against. To provide in season 
 against the dangers of want, personal injury, loss of charac 
 ter, and a great many other such acknowledged misfortunes, 
 has become a kind of instinctive process of our natures. The 
 few exceptions which exist only go to prove the rule : in ad 
 dition to these, almost every man has some ruling propensity 
 to gratify, to advance which his ingenuity is ever on the 
 alert, or some apprehended evil to avert, which calls all his 
 prudence into activity. Yet how seldom is it exerted, in 
 order to give a rational ground to expect permanent happi 
 ness in wedlock. 
 
 Marriage is called a lottery, and it is thought, like all other 
 lotteries, there are more blanks than prizes ; yet is it not made 
 more precarious than it ought to be, by our neglect of that 
 degree of precaution which we would be ridiculed for omit 
 ting in conducting our every-day concerns ? Is not the stand 
 ard of matrimonial felicity placed too low 1 Ought we not to 
 look more to the possession of principles than to the posses 
 sion of wealth 1 Or is it at all justifiable in a Christian to 
 commit a child, a daughter, to the keeping of a man who 
 wants the very essential they acknowledge most necessary to 
 constitute a perfect character ? Most men revolt at infidelity 
 in a woman, and most men, however licentious themselves, 
 look for, at least, the exterior of religion in their wives. The 
 education of their children is a serious responsibility ; and 
 although seldom conducted on such rules as will stand the 
 test of reason, it is not to be entirely shaken off: they choose 
 their early impressions should be correct, their infant conduct 
 at least blameless. And are not one half mankind of the 
 male sex ? Are precepts in religion, in morals, only for fe 
 males ? Are we to reverse the theory of the Mahommedans, 
 
172 PRECAUTION. 
 
 and though we do not believe it, act as if men had ho souls ? 
 Is not the example of the father as important to the son as 
 that of the mother to the daughter ? In short, is there any 
 security against the commission of enormities, but an humble 
 and devout dependence on the assistance of that Almighty 
 Power, which alone is able to hold us up against temp 
 tation ? 
 
 Uniformity of taste is no doubt necessary to what we call 
 love, but is not taste acquired ? Would our daughters ad 
 mire a handsome deist, if properly impressed with a horror 
 of his doctrines, sooner than they now would admire a hand 
 some Mahommedan? We would refuse our children to a 
 pious dissenter, to give them to impious members of the es 
 tablishment : we make the substance less than the shadow. 
 
 Our principal characters are possessed of these diversified 
 views of the evils to be averted. Mrs. Wilson considers Chris 
 tianity an indispensable requisite in the husband to be per 
 mitted to her charge, and watches against the possibility of 
 any other than a Christian s gaining the affections of Emily. 
 Lady Chatterton considers the w r ant of an establishment as 
 the unpardonable sin, and directs her energies to prevent this 
 evil ; while John Moseley looks upon a free will as the birth 
 right of an Englishman, and is, at the present moment, anx 
 iously alive to prevent the dowager s making him the hus 
 band of Grace, the thing of all others he most strenuously 
 desires. 
 
PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 JOHN MOSELEY returned from L within a -week, and 
 
 appeared as if his whole delight consisted in knocking over 
 the inoffensive birds. His restlessness induced him to make 
 Jarvis his companion ; for although he abhorred the captain s 
 style of pursuing the sport, being in his opinion both out of 
 rule and without taste, yet he was a constitutional fidget, and 
 suited his own moving propensities at the moment. Egerton 
 and Denbigh were both frequently at the hall, but generally 
 gave their time to the ladies, neither being much inclined to 
 the favorite amusement of John. 
 
 There was a little arbor within the walls of the park, which 
 for years had been a retreat from the summer heats to the 
 ladies of the Moseley family ; even so long as the youth of 
 Mrs. Wilson it had been in vogue, and she loved it with a 
 kind of melancholy pleasure, as the spot where she had first 
 listened to the language of love from the lips of her late 
 husband. Into this arbor the ladies had one day retired, 
 during the warmth of a noon-day sun, with the exception of 
 Lady Moseley, who had her own engagement in the house. 
 Between Egerton and Denbigh there was maintained a kind 
 of courtly intercourse, which prevented any disagreeable col 
 lision from their evident dislike. Mrs. Wilson thought, on 
 the part of Denbigh, it was the forbearance of a principled 
 indulgence to another s weakness ; while the colonel s other 
 wise uniform good breeding was hardly able to conceal a 
 something amounting to very near repugnance. Egerton 
 had taken his seat on the ground, near the feet of Jane ; and 
 
"174 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Denbigh was stationed on a bench placed without the arbor 
 but so near as to have the full benefit of the shade of the 
 noble oak, branches of which had been trained so as to com 
 pose its principal covering. It might have been accident, 
 that gave each his particular situation; but it is certain they 
 were so placed as not to be in sight of each other, and so 
 placed that the colonel was ready to hand Jane her scissors, 
 or any other little implement that she occasionally dropped, 
 and that Denbigh could read every lineament of the animated 
 countenance of Emily as she listened to his description of the 
 curiosities of Egypt, a country in which he had spent a few 
 months while attached to the army in Sicily. In this situa 
 tion we will leave them for an hour, happy in the society of 
 each other, while we trace the route of John Moseley and 
 his companion, in their pursuit of woodcock, on the same day. 
 
 " Do you know, Moseley," said Jarvis, who began to think 
 he was a favorite with John, now that he was admitted to 
 his menus plaisirs, " that I have taken it into my head this 
 Mr. Denbigh was very happy to plead his morals for not 
 meeting me. He is a soldier, but I cannot find out what 
 battles he has been in." 
 
 " Captain Jarvis," said John, coolly, " the less you say 
 about that business the better. Call in Rover." 
 
 Now, another of Jarvis s recommendations was a set of 
 lungs that might have been heard half a mile with great ease 
 on a still morning. 
 
 " Why," said Jarvis, rather humbly, " I am sensible, Mr. 
 Moseley, I was very wrong as regards your sister ; but don t 
 you think it a little odd in a soldier not to fight when pro 
 perly called upon ?" 
 
 " I suppose Mr. Denbigh did not think himself properly 
 called upon, or perhaps he had heard what a great shot you 
 were." 
 
PRECAUTION. 175 
 
 Six months before his appearance in B , Captain Jarvis 
 
 had been a clerk in the counting-room of Jarvis, Baxter & 
 Co., and had never held fire-arras of any kind in his hand, 
 with the exception of an old blunderbuss, which had been a 
 kind of sentinel over the iron chest for years. On mounting 
 the cockade, he had taken up shooting as a martial exercise, 
 inasmuch as the burning of gunpowder was an attendant of 
 the recreation. He had never killed but one bird in his life, 
 and that was an owl, of which he took the advantage of day 
 light and his stocking feet to knock off a tree in the deanery 
 grounds, very early after his arrival. In his trials with John, 
 he sometimes pulled trigger at the same moment with his 
 companion ; and as the bird generally fell, he thought he had 
 an equal claim to the honor. He was fond of warring with 
 crows and birds of the larger sort, and invariably went pro 
 vided with small balls fitted to the bore of his fowling-piece 
 for such accidental rencontres. He had another habit, which 
 was not a little annoying to John, who had several times 
 tried in vain to break him of it that of shooting at marks. 
 If birds were not plenty, he would throw up a chip, and 
 sometimes his hat, by way of shooting on the wing. 
 
 As the day was excessively hot, and the game kept close, 
 John felt willing to return from such unprofitable labor. 
 The captain now commenced his chip firing, which in u few 
 minutes was succeeded by his hat. 
 
 "See, Moseley, see; I have hit the band," cried the 
 captain, delighted to find he had at last wounded his old 
 antagonist. " I don t think you can beat that yourself." 
 
 " I am not sure I can," said John, slipping a handful of 
 gravel in the muzzle of his piece slily, " but I can do as you 
 did try." 
 
 " Do," cried the captain, pleased to get his companion 
 down to his own level of amusements. " Are you ready ?" 
 
176 PRECAUTION. 
 
 
 
 "Yes; throw." 
 
 Jarvis threw, and John fired : the hat fairly bounced. 
 
 " Have I hit it ?" asked John, while reloading the barrel 
 he had discharged. 
 
 " Hit it !" said the captain, looking ruefully at his hat. " It 
 looks like a cullender ; but, Moseley, your gun don t scatter 
 well : a dozen shot have gone through in the same place." 
 
 " It does look rather like a cullender," said John, as he 
 overlooked his companion s beaver, " and, by the size of some 
 of the holes, one that has been a good deal used." 
 
 The reports of the fowling-pieces announced to the party 
 in the arbor the return of the sportsmen, it being an invariable 
 practice with John Moseley to discharge his gun before he 
 came in ; and Jarvis had imitated him, from a wish to be 
 what he called in rule. 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh," said John, as he put down his gun, 
 " Captain Jarvis has got the better of his hat at last." 
 
 Denbigh smiled without speaking ; and the captain, un 
 willing to have anything to say to a gentleman to whom he 
 had been obliged to apologize, went into the arbor to show 
 the mangled condition of his head-piece to the colonel, on 
 whose sympathies he felt a kind of claim, being of the same 
 corps. John complained of thirst, and went to a little run of 
 water but a short distance from them, in order to satisfy it. 
 The interruption of Jarvis was particularly unseasonable. 
 Jane was relating, in a manner peculiar to herself, in which 
 was mingled that undefinable exchange of looks lovers are so 
 fond of, some incident of her early life to the colonel that 
 greatly interested him. Knowing the captain s foibles, he 
 pointed, therefore, with his finger, as he said 
 
 ** There is one of your old enemies, a hawk. v 
 
 Jarvis threw down his hat, and ran with boyish eagerness 
 to drive away the intruder. In his haste, he caught up the 
 
PRECAUTION. 177 
 
 gun of John Moseley, and loading it rapidly, threw in a ball 
 from his usual stock ; but whether the hawk saw and knew 
 him, or whether it saw something else it liked better, it made 
 a dart for the baronet s poultry-yard at no great distance, 
 and was out of sight in a minute. Seeing that his foe had 
 vanished, the captain laid the piece where he had found 
 it, and, recovering his old train of ideas, picked up his hat 
 again. 
 
 " John," said Emily, as she approached him affectionately, 
 " you were too warm to drink." 
 
 " Stand off, sis," cried John, playfully, taking up the gun 
 from against the body of the tree, and dropping it towards 
 her. 
 
 Jarvis had endeavored to make an appeal to the com 
 miseration of Emily in favor of the neglected beaver, and was 
 within a few feet of them. At this moment, recoiling from 
 the muzzle of the gun, he exclaimed, " It is loaded !" 
 "Hold," cried Denbigh, in a voice of horror, as he sprang 
 between John and his sister. Both were too late ; the piece 
 was discharged. Denbigh, turning to Emily, and smiling 
 mournfully, gazed for a moment at her with an expression of 
 tenderness, of pleasure, of sorrow, so blended that she retained 
 the recollection of it for life, and fell at her feet. 
 
 The gun dropped from the nerveless grasp of young 
 Moseley. Emily sank in insensibility by the side of her pre 
 server. Mrs. Wilson and Jane stood speechless and aghast. 
 The colonel alone retained the presence of mind necessaiy to 
 devise the steps to be immediately taken. He sprang to the 
 examination of Denbigh ; the eyes of the wounded man were 
 open, and his recollection perfect : the first were fixed in in 
 tense observation on the inanimate body which lay at his 
 side. 
 
 " Leave me, Colonel Egerton," he said, speaking with dif- 
 8* 
 
1Y8 PRECAUTION. 
 
 ficulty, and pointing in the direction of the little run of water, 
 " assist Miss Moseley your hat your hat will answer." 
 
 Accustomed to scenes of blood, and not ignorant that time 
 and care were the remedies to be applied to the wounded 
 man, Egerton flew to the stream, and returning immediately, 
 by the help of her sister and Mrs. Wilson, soon restored 
 Emily to life. The ladies and John had now begun to act. 
 The tenderest assiduities of Jane were devoted to her sister ; 
 while Mrs. Wilson observing her niece to be uninjured by 
 anything but the shock, assisted John in supporting the 
 wounded man. 
 
 Denbigh spoke, requesting to be carried to the house ; and 
 Jarvis was despatched for help. Within half an hour, Den 
 bigh was placed on a couch in the house of Sir Edward, and 
 was quietly waiting for that professional aid which could only 
 decide on his probable fate. The group assembled in the 
 room were in fearful expectation of the arrival of the sur 
 geons, in pursuit of whom messengers had been sent both to 
 
 the barracks in F and to the town itself. Sir Edward 
 
 sat by the side of the sufferer, holding one of his hands 
 in his own, now turning his tearful eyes on that daugh 
 ter who had so lately been rescued as it were from the cer 
 tainty of death, in mute gratitude and thanksgiving ; and now 
 dwelling on the countenance of him, who, by bravely inter 
 posing his bosom to the blow, had incurred in his own person 
 the imminent danger of a similar fate, with a painful sense of 
 his perilous situation, and devout and earnest prayers for his 
 safety. Emily was with her father, as with the rest of his 
 family, a decided favorite ; and no reward would have been 
 sufficient, no gratitude lively enough, in the estimation of 
 the baronet, to compensate the protector of such a child. 
 She sat between her mother and Jane, with a hand held 
 by each, pale and oppressed with a load of gratitude, of 
 
PRECAUTION. 179 
 
 thanksgiving, of woe, that almost bowed her to the earth. 
 Lady Moseley and Jane were both sensibly touched with the 
 deliverance of Emily, and manifested the interest they took 
 in her by the tenderest caresses, while Mrs. Wilson sat calmly 
 collected within herself, occasionally giving those few direc 
 tions which were necessary under the circumstances, and offer 
 ing up her silent petitions in behalf of the sufferer. John had 
 taken horse immediately for F , and Jarvis had volun 
 teered to go to the rectory and Bolton. Denbigh inquired fre 
 quently and with much anxiety for Dr. Ives ; but the rector 
 was absent from home on a visit to a sick parishioner, and it 
 was late in the evening before he arrived. Within three 
 hours of the accident, however, Dr. Black, the surgeon of the 
 th, reached the hall, and immediately proceeded to ex 
 amine the wound. The ball had penetrated the right breast, 
 and gone directly through the body ; it was extracted with 
 very little difficulty, and his attendant acquainted the anxious 
 friends of Denbigh that the heart certainly, and he hoped 
 the lungs, had escaped uninjured. The ball was a very small 
 one, and the principal danger to be apprehended was from 
 fever : he had taken the usual precautions against that, and 
 should it not set in with a violence greater than he appre 
 hended at present, the patient might be abroad within the 
 month. 
 
 " But," continued the surgeon, with the hardened indiffe 
 rence of his profession, " the gentleman has had a narrow 
 chance in the passage of the ball itself ; half an inch would 
 have settled his accounts with this world." 
 
 This information greatly relieved the family, and orders 
 were given to preserve a silence in the house that would favor 
 the patient s disposition to quiet, or, if possible, sleep 
 
 Dr. Ives now reached the hall. Mrs. Wilson had never 
 seen the rector hi the agitation, or with the want of self-corn* 
 
180 PRECAUTION. 
 
 mand he was in, as she met him at the entrance of the 
 house. 
 
 " Is he alive ? is there hope ? where is George ?" cried 
 the doctor, as he caught the extended hand of Mrs. Wilson. 
 She briefly acquainted him with the surgeon s report, and the 
 reasonable ground there was to expect Denbigh would sur 
 vive the injury. 
 
 " May God be praised," said the rector, in a suppressed 
 voice, and he hastily withdrew into another room. Mrs. 
 Wilson followed him slowly and in silence ; but was checked 
 on opening the door with the sight of the rector on his knees, 
 the tears stealing down his venerable cheeks in quick succes 
 sion. * Surely," thought the widow, as she drew back un 
 noticed, " a youth capable of exciting such affection in a man 
 like Dr. Ives, cannot be un worthy. " 
 
 Denbigh, hearing of the arrival of his friend, desired to see 
 him alone. Their conference was short, and the rector re 
 turned from it with increased hopes of the termination of this 
 dreadful accident. He immediately left the hall for his own 
 house, with a promise of returning early on the following 
 morning. 
 
 During the night, however, the symptoms became unfa 
 vorable ; and before the return of Dr. Ives, Denbigh was in 
 a state of delirium from the height of his fever, and the ap 
 prehensions of his friends were renewed with additional 
 force. 
 
 " What, what, my good sir, do you think of him"?" said the 
 baronet to the family physician, with an emotion that the 
 danger of his dearest child would not have exceeded, and 
 within hearing of most of his children, who were collected in 
 tho ante-chamber of the room in which Denbigh was 
 placed. 
 
 " It is impossible to say, Sir Edward," replied the physi 
 
PRECAUTION. 181 
 
 cian : " he refuses all medicines, and unless this fever abates, 
 there is but little hope of recovery." 
 
 Emily stood during this question and answer, motionless, 
 pale as death, and with her hands clasped together, betraying 
 by the workings of her fingers in a kind of convulsive motion, 
 the intensity of her interest. She had seen the draught pre 
 pared which it was so desirable that Denbigh should take, 
 and it now stood rejected on a table, where it could be seen 
 through the open door of his room. Almost breathless, she 
 glided in, and taking the draught in her hand, she approached 
 the bed, by which sat John alone, listening with a feeling of 
 despair to the wanderings of the sick man. Emily hesitated 
 once or twice, as she drew near Denbigh ; her face had lost 
 the paleness of anxiety, and glowed with another emotion. 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh dear Denbigh," said Emily, with energy, 
 unconsciously dropping her voice into the softest notes of 
 persuasion, " will you refuse me ? me, Emily Moseley, whose 
 life you have saved ?" 
 
 "Emily Moseley!" repeated Denbigh, and in those tones 
 so remarkable to his natural voice. " Is she safe ? I thought 
 she was killed dead." Then, as if recollecting himself, he 
 gazed intently on her countenance his eye became less fiery 
 his muscles relaxed he smiled, and took, with the docility 
 of a well-trained child, the prescribed medicines from her 
 hand. His ideas still wandered, but his physician, profiting 
 by the command Emily possessed over his patient, increase^, 
 his care, and by night the fever had abated, and before 
 morning the wounded man was in a profound sleep. Durfng 
 the whole day, it was thought necessary to keep Emily by 
 the side of his bed ; but at times it was no trifling tax on her 
 feelings to remain there. He spoke of her by name in the 
 tenderest manner, although incoherently, and in terms that 
 restored to the blanched cheeks of the distressed girl more 
 
182 PRECAUTION. 
 
 than the richness of their native color. His thoughts were 
 not confined to Emily, however : he talked of his father, of 
 his mother, and frequently spoke of his poor deserted Marian. 
 The latter name he dwelt on in the language of the warmest 
 affection, condemned his own desertion of her, and, taking 
 Emily for her, would beg her forgiveness, tell her her suffer 
 ings had been enough, and that he would return, and never 
 leave her again. At such moments his nurse would some 
 times show, by the paleness of her cheeks, her anxiety for 
 his health; and then, as he addressed her by her proper 
 appellation, all her emotions appeared absorbed in the sense 
 of shame at the praises with which he overwhelmed her. 
 Mrs. Wilson succeeded her in the charge of the patient, and 
 she retired to seek that repose she so greatly needed. 
 
 On the second morning after receiving the wound, Denbigh 
 dropped into a deep sleep, from which he awoke refreshed 
 and perfectly collected in mind. The fever had left him, and 
 his attendants pronounced, with the usual cautions to prevent 
 a relapse, his recovery certain. It were impossible to have 
 communicated any intelligence more grateful to all the 
 members of the Moseley family ; for Jane had even lost sight 
 of her own lover, in sympathy for the fate of a man who had 
 sacrificed himself to save her beloved sister. 
 
PRECAUTION. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE recovery of Denbigh was as rapid as the most sanguine 
 expectation of his friends could hope for, and in ten days he 
 left his bed, and would sit an hour or two at a time in his 
 dressing-room, where Mrs. ^Yilson, accompanied by Jane or 
 Emily, came and read to him ; and it was a remark of Sir 
 Edward s gamekeeper, that the woodcocks had become so 
 tame during the time Mr. Moseley was shut up in attendance 
 on his friend, that Captain Jarvis was at last actually seen to 
 bag one honestly. 
 
 As Jarvis felt something like a consciousness that but for 
 his folly the accident would not have happened, and also 
 something very like shame for the manner he had shrunk 
 from the danger Denbigh had so nobly met, he pretended a 
 recall to his regiment, then on duty near London, and left 
 the deanery. He went off as he came in in the colonel s 
 tilbury, and accompanied by his friend and his pointers, 
 John, who saw them pass from the windows of Denbigh s 
 dressing-room, fervently prayed he might never come back 
 again the chip-shooting poacher ! 
 
 Colonel Egerton had taken leave of Jane the evening pre 
 ceding, with many assurances of the anxiety with which he 
 should look forward to the moment of their meeting at 
 
 L , whither he intended repairing as soon as his corps 
 
 had gone through its annual review. Jane had followed the 
 bent of her natural feelings too much, during the period of 
 Denbigh s uncertain fate, to think much of her lover, or any 
 thing else but her rescued sister and her preserver ; but now 
 
184 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the former was pronounced in safety, and the latter, by the 
 very reaction of her grief, was, if possible, happier than ever, 
 Jane dwelt in melancholy sadness on the perfections of the 
 man who had taken with him the best affections (as she 
 thought) of her heart. With him all was perfect : his 
 ^morals were unexceptionable ; his manners showed it ; his 
 tenderness of disposition manifest, for they had wept together 
 over the distresses of more than one fictitious heroine ; his 
 temper, how amiable ! he was never angry she had never 
 seen it ; his opinions, his tastes, how correct ! they were her 
 own ; his form, his face, how agreeable ! her eyes had seen 
 it, and her heart acknowledged it ; besides, his eyes confessed 
 the power of her own charms ; he was brave, for he was a 
 soldier ; in short, as Emily had predicted, he was a hero 
 for he was Colonel Egerton. 
 
 Had Jane been possessed of less exuberance of fancy, she 
 might have been a little at a loss to identify all these good 
 properties with her hero : or had she possessed a matured or 
 well-regulated judgment to control that fancy, they might 
 possibly have assumed a different appearance. No explana 
 tion had taken place between them, however. Jane knew, 
 both by her own feelings and by all the legends of love from 
 its earliest days, that the moment of parting was generally a 
 crisis in affairs of the heart, and, with a backwardness occa 
 sioned by her modesty, had rather avoided than sought in 
 opportunity to favor the colonel s wishes. Egerton had not 
 been over anxious to come to the point, and everything was 
 left as heretofore : neither, however, appeared to doubt in the 
 least the state of the other s affections ; and there might be 
 said to exist between them one of those not unusual engage 
 ments by implication which it would have been, in their own 
 estimation, a breach of faith to recede from, but which, like 
 all other bargains that are loosely made, are sometimes 
 
PRECAUTION. 185 
 
 violated when convenient. Man is a creature that, as expe 
 rience has sufficiently proved, it is necessary to keep in his 
 proper place in society by wholesome restrictions ; and we 
 have often thought it a matter of regret that some well 
 understood regulations did not exist by which it became not 
 only customary, but incumbent on him, to proceed in his road 
 to the temple of Hymen. We know that it is ungenerous, 
 ignoble, almost unprecedented, to doubt the faith, the con 
 stancy, of a male paragon; yet, somehow, as the papers 
 occasionally give us a sample of such infidelity ; as we have 
 sometimes seen a solitary female brooding over her woes in 
 silence, and, with the seemliness of feminine decorum shrink 
 ing from the discovery of its cause, or which the grave has 
 revealed for the first time, we cannot but wish that either the 
 watchfulness of the parent, or a sense of self-preservation in 
 the daughter, would, for the want of a better, cause them to 
 adhere to those old conventional forms of courtship which 
 require a man to speak to be understood, and a woman to 
 answer to be committed. 
 
 There was a little parlor in the house of Sir Edward Mose- 
 ley, that was the privileged retreat of none but the members 
 of his own family. Here the ladies were accustomed to 
 withdraw into the bosom of their domestic quietude, when 
 occasional visitors had disturbed then* ordinary intercourse ; 
 and many were the hasty and unreserved communications it 
 had witnessed between the sisters, in their stolen flights from 
 the graver scenes of the principal apartments. It might be 
 said to be sacred to the pious feelings of the domestic affec 
 tions. Sir Edward would retire to it when fatigued with his 
 occupations, certain of finding some one of those he loved to 
 draw his thoughts off from the cares of life to the little inci 
 dents of his children s happiness ; and Lady Moseley, even in 
 the proudest hours of her reviving splendor, seldom passed 
 
186 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the door without looking in, with a smile, on the faces she 
 might find there. It was, in fact, the room in the large man 
 sion of the baronet, expressly devoted, by long usage and 
 common consent, to the purest feelings of human nature. 
 Into this apartment Denbigh had gained admission, as the 
 one nearest to his own room and requiring the least effort of 
 his returning strength to reach ; and, perhaps, by an undefina- 
 ble feeling of the Moseleys which had begun to connect him 
 with themselves, partly from his winning manners, and partly 
 by the sense of the obligation he had laid them under. 
 
 One warm day, John and his friend had sought this re 
 treat, in expectation of meeting his sisters, who they found, 
 however, on inquiry, had walked to the arbor. After re 
 maining conversing for an hour by themselves, John was 
 called away to attend to a pointer that had been taken ill, and 
 Denbigh throwing a handkerchief over his head to guard 
 against the danger of cold, quietly composed himself on one 
 of the comfortable sofas of the room, with a disposition to 
 sleep. Before he had entirely lost his consciousness, a light 
 step moving near him, caught his ear ; believing it to be a 
 servant unwilling to disturb him, he endeavored to continue 
 in his present mood, until the quick but stifled breathing of 
 some one nearer than before roused his curiosity. He com 
 manded himself, however, sufficiently, to remain quiet; a 
 blind of a window near him was carefully closed ; a screen 
 drawn from a corner and placed so as sensibly to destroy the 
 slight draught of air in which he laid himself; and other ar 
 rangements were making, but with a care to avoid disturbing 
 him that rendered them hardly audible. Presently the step 
 approached him again, the breathing was quicker, though 
 gentle, the handkerchief was moved, but the hand was with 
 drawn hastily as if afraid of itself. Another effort was suc 
 cessful, and Denbigh stole a glance through his dark lashes, 
 
PRECAUTION. 187 
 
 on thv5 figure of Emily as she stood over him in the fulness 
 of her charms, and with a face in which glowed an interest 
 he had never witnessed in it before. It undoubtedly was 
 gratitude. For a moment she gazed on him, as her color 
 increased in richness. His hand was carelessly thrown over 
 an arm of the sofa; she stooped towards it with her face 
 gently, but with an air of modesty that shone in her very 
 figure. Denbigh felt the warmth of her breath, but her lips 
 did not touch it. Had he been inclined to judge the actions 
 of Emily Moseley harshly, it were impossible to mistake the 
 movement for anything but the impulse of natural feeling. 
 There was a pledge of innocence, of modesty in her counte 
 nance, that would have prevented any misconstruction ; and 
 he continued quietly awaiting what the preparations on her 
 little mahogany secretary were intended for. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson entertained a great abhorrence of what iff 
 commonly called accomplishments in a woman ; she knew 
 that too much of that precious time which could never be 
 recalled, was thrown away in endeavoring to acquire a smat 
 tering in what, if known, could never be of use to the party, 
 and what can never be well known but to a few, whom na 
 ture and long practice have enabled to conquer. Yet as her 
 niece had early manifested a taste for painting, and a vivid 
 perception of the beauties of nature, her inclination had been 
 indulged, and Emily Moseley sketched with neatness and ac 
 curacy, and with great readiness. It would have been no 
 subject of surprise, had admiration, or some more powerful 
 feeling, betrayed to the artist, on this occasion, the deception 
 the young man was practising. She had entered the room 
 from her walk, warm and careless ; her hair, than which none 
 was more beautiful, had strayed on her shoulders, freed from 
 the confinement of the comb, and a lock was finely contrasted 
 to the rich color of a cheek that almost burnt with the 
 
188 PRECAUTION. 
 
 else and the excitement. Her dress, white as the first snow 
 of the winter ; her looks, as she now turned them on the face 
 of the sleeper, and betrayed by their animation the success of 
 her art ; formed a picture in itself, that Denbigh would have 
 been content to gaze on for ever. Her back was to a window, 
 that threw its strong light on the paper the figures of which 
 were reflected, as she occasionally held it up to study its 
 effect, in a large mirror so placed that Denbigh caught a view 
 of her subject. He knew it at a glance the arbor the 
 gun himself, all were there ; it appeared to have been drawn 
 before it must have been, from its perfect state, and Emily 
 had seized a favorable moment to complete his own resem 
 blance. Her touches were light and finishing, and as the 
 picture was frequently held up for consideration, he had some 
 time allowed for studying it. His own resemblance was 
 strong; his eyes were turned on herself, to whom Denbigh 
 thought she had not done ample justice, but the man who 
 held the gun bore no likeness to John Moseley, except in 
 dress. A slight movement of the muscles of the sleeper s 
 mouth might have betrayed his consciousness, had not Emily 
 been too intent on the picture, as she turned it in such a waj 
 that a strong light fell on the recoiling figure of Captain Jar- 
 vis. The resemblance was wonderful. Denbigh thought h? 
 would have known it, had he seen it in the Academy itself. 
 The noise of some one approaching closed the portfolio ; it 
 was only a servant, yet Emily did not resume her pencil. 
 Denbigh watched her motions, as she put the picture care 
 fully in a private drawer of the secretary, reopened the blind, 
 replaced the screen, and laid the handkerchief, the last thing, 
 on his face, with a movement almost imperceptible to himself. 
 " It is later than I thought," said Denbigh, looking at his 
 watch ; " I owe an apology, Miss Moseley, for making so free 
 with your parlor ; but I was too lazy to move." 
 
PRECAUTION. 189 
 
 " Apology ! Mr. Denbigh," cried Emily, with a color vary 
 ing with every word she spoke, and trembling at what she 
 thought the nearness of detection, " you have no apology to 
 make for your present debility ; and surely, surely, least of all 
 to me ! T 
 
 "I understand from Mr. Moseley," continued Denbigh, 
 with a smile, " that our obligation is at least mutual ; to your 
 perseverance and care, Miss Moseley, after the physicians had 
 given me up, I believe I am, under Providence, indebted for 
 my recovery." 
 
 Emily was not vain, and least of all addicted to a display 
 of any of her acquirements ; very few even of her friends 
 knew she ever held a pencil in her hand ; yet did she now 
 unaccountably throw open her portfolio, and offer its con 
 tents to the examination of her companion. It was done 
 almost instantaneously, and Avith great freedom, though not 
 without certain flushings of the face and heavings of the 
 bosom, that would have eclipsed Grace Chatterton in her 
 happiest moments of natural flattery. Whatever might have 
 been the wishes of Mr. Denbigh to pursue a subject which 
 had begun to grow extremely interesting, both from its import 
 and the feelings of the parties, it would have been rude to 
 decline viewing the contents of a lady s portfolio. The 
 drawings were, many of them, interesting, and the exhibitor 
 of them now appeared as anxious to remove them in haste, as 
 she had but the moment before been to direct his attention 
 to her performances. Denbigh would have given much to 
 dare to ask for the paper so carefully secreted in the private 
 drawer ; but neither the principal agency he had himself in 
 the scene, nor delicacy to his companion s wish for conceal 
 ment, would allow of the request. 
 
 " Doctor Ives ! how happy I am to see you," said Emily, 
 hastily closing her portfolio, and before Denbigh had gone 
 
100 PRECAUTION. 
 
 half through its contents ; " you have become almost a stran 
 ger to us since Clara left us." 
 
 "No, no, my little friend, never a stranger, I hope, at 
 Moseley Hall," cried the doctor, pleasantly ; " George, I am 
 happy to see you look so well you have even a color there 
 is a letter for you, from Marian." 
 
 Denbigh took the letter eagerly, and retired to a window 
 to peruse it. His hand shook as he broke the seal, and his 
 interest in the writer, or its contents, could not have es 
 caped the notice of any observer, however indifferent. 
 
 " Now, Miss Emily, if you will have the goodness to order 
 me a glass of wine and water after my ride, believe me, you 
 will do a very charitable act," cried the doctor, as he took 
 his seat on the sofa. 
 
 Emily was standing by the little table, deeply musing on 
 the contents of her portfolio ; for her eyes were intently fixed 
 on the outside, as if she expected to see through the leather 
 covering their merits and faults. 
 
 " Miss Emily Moseley," continued the doctor, gravely, " am 
 I to die of thirst or not, this warm day ?" 
 
 " Do you wish anything, Doctor Ives ? 
 
 " A servant to get me a glass of wine and water." 
 
 " Why did you not ask me, my dear sir ?" said Emily, as 
 she threw open a cellaret, and handed him what he wanted. 
 
 " There, my dear, there is a great plenty," said the doctor, 
 with an arch expression ; " I really thought I had asked you 
 thrice but I believe you were studying something in that 
 portfolio." 
 
 Emily blushed, and endeavored to laugh at her own ab 
 sence of mind ; but she would have given the world to knoir 
 who Marian was. 
 
PRECAUTION. 191 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 As a month had elapsed since he received his wound, Den 
 bigh took an opportunity, one morning at breakfast, where 
 he was well enough now to meet his friends, to announce his 
 intention of trespassing no longer on their kindness, but of 
 returning that day to the rectory. The communication dis 
 tressed the whole family, and the baronet turned to him in 
 the most cordial manner, as he took one of his hands, and 
 said with an air of solemnity 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh, I could wish you to make this house your 
 home ; Dr. Ives may have known you longer, and may have 
 the claim of relationship on you, but I am certain he cannot 
 love you better ; and are not the ties of gratitude as binding 
 as those of blood ?" 
 
 Denbigh was affected by the kindness of Sir Edward s 
 manner. 
 
 " The regiment I belong to, Sir Edward, will be reviewed 
 next week, and it has become my duty to leave here ; there 
 is one it is proper I should visit, a near connexion, who is ac 
 quainted with the escape I have met with, and wishes natu 
 rally to see me ; besides, my dear Sir Edward, she has many 
 causes of sorrow, and it is a debt I owe her affection to en 
 deavor to relieve them." 
 
 It was the first time he had ever spoken of his family, or 
 hardly of himself, and the silence which prevailed plainly 
 showed the interest his listeners took in the little he uttered. 
 
 That connexion, thought Emily I wonder if her name be 
 Marian? But nothing further passed, excepting the affec- 
 
192 PRECAUTION. 
 
 tionate regrets of her father, and the promises of Denbigh to 
 
 visit them again before he left B , and of joining them 
 
 at L immediately after the review of which he had 
 
 spoken. As soon as he had breakfasted, John drove him in 
 his phaeton to the rectory. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson, like the rest of the baronet s family, had been 
 too deeply impressed with the debt they owed this young 
 man to interfere with her favorite system of caution against 
 too great an intimacy between her niece and her preserver. 
 Close observation and tho opinion of Dr. Ives had prepared 
 her to give him her esteem; but the gallantry, the self- 
 devotion he had displayed to Emily was an act calculated to 
 remove heavier objections than she could imagine as likely 
 to exist to his becoming her husband. That he meant it, was 
 evident from his whole deportment of late. Since the morn 
 ing the portfolio was produced, Denbigh had given a more 
 decided preference to her niece. The nice discrimination of 
 Mrs. Wilson would not have said his feelings had become 
 stronger, but that he labored less to conceal them. That he 
 loved her niece she suspected from the first fortnight of their 
 acquaintance, and it had given additional stimulus to her in 
 vestigation into his character ; but to doubt it, after stepping 
 between her and death, would have been to have mistaken 
 human nature. There was one qualification she would have 
 wished to have been certain he possessed : before this accident, 
 she would have made it an indispensable one ; but the gra 
 titude, the affections of Emily, she believed now to be too 
 deeply engaged to make the strict inquiry she otherwise 
 would have done; and she had the best of reasons for 
 believing that if Denbigh were not a true Christian, he was 
 at least a strictly moral man, and assuredly one who well 
 understood the beauties of a religion she almost conceived it 
 impossible for any impartial and intelligent man long to resist 
 
PRECAUTION. 193 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. Wilson, having in some measure interfered with 
 her system, like others, had, on finding it impossible to con 
 duct so that reason would justify all she did, began to find 
 reasons for what she thought best to be done under the 
 circumstances. Denbigh, however, both by his acts and his 
 opinions, had created such an estimate of his worth in the 
 breast of Mrs. Wilson, that there would have been but little 
 danger of a repulse had no fortuitous accident helped him in 
 his way to her favor. 
 
 "Who have we here ? said Lady Moseley. "A landaulet 
 and four the Earl of Bolton, I declare !" 
 
 Lady Moseley turned from the window with that collected 
 grace she so well loved, and so well knew how to assume, to 
 receive her noble visitor. Lord Bolton was a bachelor of 
 sixty-five, who had long been attached to the court, and 
 retained much of the manners of the old school. His prin 
 cipal estate was in Ireland, and most of that time which his 
 duty at Windsor did not require he gave to the improvement 
 of his Irish property. Thus, although on perfectly good 
 terms with the baronet s family, they seldom met. With 
 General Wilson he had been at college, and to his widow he 
 always showed much of that regard he had invariably pro 
 fessed for her husband. The obligation he had conferred, 
 unasked, on Francis Ives, was one conferred on all his friends, 
 and his reception was now warmer than usual. 
 
 " My Lady Moseley," said the earl, bowing formally on her 
 hand, "your looks do ample justice to the air of Northamp 
 tonshire. I hope you enjoy your usual health." 
 
 Then, waiting her equally courteous answer, he paid his 
 compliments, in succession, to all the members of the family ; 
 a mode undoubtedly well adapted to discover their several 
 conditions, but not a little tedious in its operations, and some 
 what tiresome to the legs. 
 
 9 
 
194 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " We are under a debt of gratitude to your lordship," said 
 Sir Edward, in his simple and warm-hearted way, " that I am 
 sorry it is not in our power to repay more amply than by our 
 thanks." 
 
 The earl was, or affected to be, surprised, as he required 
 an explanation. 
 
 " The living at Bolton," said Lady Moseley, with dignity. 
 
 "Yes," continued her husband; "in giving the living to 
 Frank you did me a favor, equal to what you would have 
 done had he been my own child ; and unsolicited, too, my 
 lord, it was an additional compliment." 
 
 The earl sat rather uneasy during this speech, but the love 
 of truth prevailed; for he had been too much round the 
 person of our beloved sovereign not to retain all the impres 
 sions of his youth ; and after a little struggle with his self- 
 love, he answered 
 
 " Not unsolicited, Sir Edward. I have no doubt, had my 
 better fortune allowed rne the acquaintance of my present 
 rector, his own merit would have obtained what a sense of 
 justice requires I should say was granted to an applicant to 
 whom the ear of royalty itself would not have been deaf." 
 
 It was the turn of the Moseleys now to look surprised, and 
 Sir Edward ventured to ask an explanation. 
 
 " It was my cousin, the Earl of Pendennyss, who applied 
 for it, as a favor done to himself ; and Pendennyss is a man 
 not to be refused anything." 
 
 " Lord Pendennyss !" exclaimed Mrs. Wilson, with anima 
 tion ; " and in what way came we to be under this obligation 
 to Lord Pendennyss ?" 
 
 " He did me the honor of a call during my visit to Ireland, 
 madam," replied the earl ; " and on inquiring of my steward 
 after his old friend, Doctor Stevens, learnt his death, and the 
 claims of Mr. Ives: but the reason he gave me was his 
 
PRECAUTION. 1 05 
 
 interest in the widow of General Wilson," bowing with much 
 solemnity to the lady as he spoke. 
 
 " I am gratified to find the earl yet remembers us," said 
 Mrs. Wilson, struggling to restrain her tears. " Are we to 
 have the pleasure of seeing him soon ?" 
 
 " I received a letter from him yesterday, saying he should 
 be here in all next week, madam." And turning pleasantly 
 to Jane and her sister, he continued, " Sir Edward, you have 
 here rewards fit for heavier services, and the earl is a great 
 admirer of female charms." 
 
 " Is he not married, my lord ?" asked the baronet, with 
 great simplicity. 
 
 " No, baronet, nor engaged ; but how long he will remain 
 so after his hardihood in venturing into this neighborhood, 
 will, I trust, depend on one of these young ladies." 
 
 Jane looked grave for trifling on love was heresy, in her 
 estimation ; but Emily laughed, with an expression in which 
 a skilful physiognomist might have read if he means me, he 
 is mistaken. 
 
 " Your cousin, Lord Chatterton, has found interest, Sir 
 Edward," continued the peer, " to obtain his father s situa 
 tion ; and if reports speak truth, he wishes to become more 
 nearly related to you, baronet." 
 
 " I do not well see how that can happen," said Sir 
 Edward with a smile, and who had not art enough to con 
 ceal his thoughts, " unless he takes my sister here." 
 
 The cheeks of both the young ladies now vied with the 
 rose ; and the peer, observing he had touched on forbidden 
 ground, added, " Chatterton was fortunate to find friends 
 able to bear up against the powerful interest of Lord 
 Haverford." 
 
 " To whom was he indebted for the place, my lord f* 
 asked Mrs. Wilson. 
 
196 PRECAUTION . 
 
 " It was whispered at court, madam," said the earl, 
 sensibly lowering his voice, and speaking with an air of 
 mystery " and a lord of the bed-chamber is fonder of dis 
 coveries than a lord of the council that His Grace of Der- 
 went threw the whole of his parliamentary interest into the 
 scale on the baron s side, but you are not to suppose," 
 raising his hand gracefully, with a wave of rejection, " that 
 I speak from authority ; only a surmise, Sir Edward, only 
 a surmise, my lady." 
 
 " Is not the name of the Duke of Derwent, Denbigh ?" 
 inquired Mrs. Wilson, with a thoughtful manner. 
 
 " Certainly, madam, Denbigh," replied the earl, with a 
 gravity with which he always spoke of dignities ; " one 
 of our most ancient names, and descended on the female 
 side from the Plantagenets and Tudors." 
 
 He now rose to take his leave, and on bowing to the 
 younger ladies, laughingly repeated his intention of bringing 
 his cousin (an epithet he never omitted), Pendennyss, to 
 their feet. 
 
 " Do you think, sister," said Lady Moseley, after the earl 
 had retired, " that Mr. Denbigh is of the house of Der 
 went ?" 
 
 " I cannot say," replied Mrs. Wilson, musing, " yet it is 
 odd, Chatterton told me of his acquaintance with Lady 
 Harriet Denbigh, but not with the Duke." 
 
 As this was spoken in the manner of a soliloquy, it 
 received no answer, and was in fact but little attended to by 
 any of the party, excepting Emily, who glanced her eye once 
 or twice at her aunt as she was speaking, with an interest 
 the name of Denbigh never failed to excite. Harriet was. 
 she thought, a pretty name, but Marian was a prettier ; if, 
 thought Emily, I could know a Marian Denbigh, I am sure 
 I could love her, and her Name too. 
 
PRECAUTION. 191 
 
 The Moseleys now began to make their preparations for 
 
 their departure to L , and the end of the succeeding 
 
 week was fixed for the period at which they were to go. 
 Mrs. Wilson urged a delay of two or three days, in order to 
 give her an opportunity of meeting with the Earl of Pen- 
 dennyss, a young man in whom, although she had relin 
 quished her former romantic wish of uniting him to Emily, 
 in favor of Denbigh, she yet felt a deep interest, growing 
 out of his connexion with the last moments of her husband, 
 and his uniformly high character. 
 
 Sir Edward accordingly acquainted his uncle, that on the 
 following Saturday he might expect to receive himself and 
 family, intending to leave the hall in the afternoon of the 
 preceding day, and reach Benfield lodge to dinner. This 
 arrangement once made, and Mr. Benfield notified of it, was 
 unalterable, the old man holding a variation from an 
 engagement a deadly sin. The week succeeding the acci 
 dent which had nearly proved so fatal to Denbigh, the 
 inhabitants of the hall were surprised with the approach of 
 a being, as singular in his manners and dress as the 
 equipage which conveyed him to the door of the house. 
 The latter consisted of a high-backed, old-fashioned sulky, 
 loaded with leather and large-headed brass nails ; wheels 
 at least a quarter larger in circumference than those of the 
 present day, and wings on each side large enough to have 
 supported a full grown roc in the highest regions of the 
 upper air. It was drawn by a horse, once white, but whose 
 milky hue was tarnished through age with large and 
 numerous red spots, and whose mane and tail did not appear 
 to have suffered by the shears during the present reign. 
 The being who alighted from this antiquated vehicle was 
 tall and excessively thin, wore his own hair drawn over hi* 
 almost naked head into a long thin queue, which reached half 
 
198 PRECAUTION. 
 
 way down his back, closely cased in numerous windings of 
 leather, or the skin of some fish. His drab coat was in shape 
 between a frock and a close-body close-body, indeed, it 
 was ; for the buttons, which were in size about equal to an 
 old-fashioned China saucer, were buttoned to the very throat, 
 thereby setting off his shape to peculiar advantage ; his 
 breeches were buckskin, and much soiled ; his stockings 
 blue yarn, although it was midsummer ; and his shoes were 
 provided with buckles of dimensions proportionate to the 
 aforesaid buttons ; his age might have been seventy, but his 
 walk was quick, and the movements of his whole system 
 showed great activity both of mind and body. He was 
 ushered into the room where the gentlemen were sitting, 
 and having made a low and extremely modest bow, he 
 deliberately put on his spectacles, thrust his hand into an 
 outside pocket of his coat, and produced from under its 
 huge flaps a black leathern pocket-book about as large as 
 a good-sized octavo volume ; after examining the multitude 
 of papers it contained carefully, he selected a letter, and 
 having returned the pocket-book to its ample apartment, 
 read aloud, 
 
 " For Sir Edward Moseley, bart. of Moseley Hall, B , 
 
 Northamptonshire with care and speed, by the hands of 
 Mr. Peter Johnson, steward of Benfield Lodge, Norfolk ;" 
 and dropping his sharp voice, he stalked up to the baronet, 
 and presented the epistle, with another reverence. 
 
 " Ah, my good friend, Johnson," said Sir Edward as soon 
 as he delivered his errand (for until he saw the contents of 
 the letter, he had thought some accident had occurred to 
 his uncle), " this is the first visit you have ever honored me 
 with ; come, take a glass of Avine before you go to your 
 dinner ; let us drink, that it may not be the last." 
 
 " Sir Edward Moseley, and you, honorable gentlemen, will 
 
PRECAr: OX. H>0 
 
 pardon me," replied the steward, in his own solemn key, 
 " this is the first time I was ever out of his majesty s county 
 of Norfolk, and I devoutly wish it may prove the Jast 
 Gentlemen, I drink your honorable healths." 
 
 This was the only real speech the old man made during 
 his visit, unless an occasional monosyllabic reply to a ques 
 tion could be thought so. He remained, by Sir Edward s 
 positive order, until the following day ; for having delivered 
 his message, and receiving its answer, he was about to take 
 his departure that evening, thinking he might get a good 
 piece on his road homewards, as it wanted half an hour to 
 sunset. On the following morning, with the sun, he was on 
 m s way to the house in which he had been born, and which 
 he had never left for twenty-four hours at a time in his life. 
 In the evening, as he was ushered in by John (who had 
 known him from his own childhood, and loved to show him 
 attention) to the room in which he was to sleep, he broke 
 what the young man called his inveterate silence, with, 
 " Young Mr. Moseley young gentleman might I pre 
 sume to ask to see the gentleman ?" 
 
 " What gentleman ?" cried John, astonished at the request, 
 and at his speaking so much. 
 
 " That saved Miss Emmy s life, sir." 
 
 John now fully comprehended him, and led the way to 
 Denbigh s room ; he was asleep, but they were admitted to 
 his bed-side. The steward stood for ten minutes gazing on 
 the sleeper in silence ; and John observed, as he blew his 
 nose on regaining his own apartment, that his little grey 
 eyes twinkled with a lustre which could not be taken for 
 anything but a tear. 
 
 As the letter was as characteristic of the writer as its 
 bearer was of his vocation, we may be excused giving it at 
 length. 
 
*\)Q PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Dear Sir Edward and Nephew, 
 
 " Your letter reached the lodge too A ate to be answered 
 that evening, as I was about to step into my bed ; but 1 
 hasten to write my congratulations, remembering the 
 often repeated maxim of my kinsman Lord Gosford, that 
 letters should be answered immediately ; indeed, a neglect 
 of it had very nigh brought about an affair of honor 
 between the earl and Sir Stephens Hallett. Sir Stephens 
 was always opposed to us in the House of Commons of this 
 realm ; and I have often thought something might have 
 passed in the debate itself, which commenced the correspon 
 dence, as the earl certainly told him as much as if he were a 
 traitor to his King and country. 
 
 " But it seems that your daughter Emily has been rescued 
 from death by the grandson of General Denbigh, who sat 
 with us in the house. Now I always had a good opinion 
 of this young Denbigh, who reminds me, every time I look 
 at him, of my late brother, your father-in-law that was ; 
 and I send my steward, Peter Johnson, express to the hall 
 in order that he may see the sick man, and bring me back 
 a true account how he fares : for should he be wanting for 
 anything within the gift of Roderic Benfield, he has only 
 to speak to have it ; not that I suppose, nephew, you will 
 willingly allow him to suffer for anything, but Peter is a 
 man of close observation, although he is of few words, and 
 may suggest something beneficial, that might escape 
 younger heads. I pray for that is, I hope, the young 
 man will recover, as your letter gives great hopes ; and if he 
 should want any little matter to help him along in the 
 army, as I take it he is not over wealthy, you have now a 
 good opportunity to offer your assistance handsomely ; and 
 that it may not interfere with your arrangements for this 
 winter, your draft on me for five thousand pounds will be 
 
PRECAUTION". 201 
 
 paid at sight ; for fear he may be proud, and not choose to 
 accept your assistance, I have this morning detained Peter, 
 while he has put a codicil to my will, leaving him ten 
 thousand pounds. You may tell Emily she is a naughty 
 child, or she would have written me the whole story ; but, 
 poor dear, I suppose she has other things on her mind just 
 
 now. God bless Mr. that is, God bless you all, and 
 
 try if you cannot get a lieutenant-colonelcy at once the 
 brother of Lady Juliana s friend was made a lieutenant- 
 colonel at the first step. 
 
 " RODERIC BENFIELD." 
 
 The result of Peter s reconnoitering expedition has never 
 reached our knowledge, unless the arrival of a servant some 
 days after he took his leave, with a pair of enormous goggles, 
 and which the old gentleman assured his nephew in a note, 
 both Peter and himself had found useful to weak eyes in 
 their occasional sickness, might have been owing to the 
 prudent forecast of the sagacious steward. 
 

 t)2 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE morning on which Denbigh left B was a melan 
 choly one to all the members of the little circle, in which he 
 had been so distinguished for his modesty, his intelligence, 
 and his disinterested intrepidity. Sir Edward took an 
 opportunity solemnly to express his gratitude for the services 
 he had rendered him, and having retired to his library, 
 delicately and earnestly pressed his availing himself of the 
 liberal offer of Mr. Benfield to advance his interest in the 
 army. 
 
 " Look upon me, my dear Mr. Denbigh," said the good 
 baronet, pressing him by the hand, while the tears stood in 
 his eyes, " as a father, to supply the place of the one you 
 have so recently lost. You are my child ; I feel as a parent 
 to you, and must be suffered to act as one." 
 
 To this affectionate offer of Sir Edward, Denbigh replied 
 with an emotion equal to that of the baronet, though he 
 declined, with respectful language, his offered assistance as 
 unnecessary. He had friends powerful enough to advance 
 his interests, without resorting to the use of money ; and 
 on taking Sir Edward s hand, as he left the apartment, he 
 .---added with great warmth, " yet, my dear Sir, the day will 
 come, I hope, when I shall ask a boon from your hands, 
 that no act of mine or a life of service could entitle me to 
 receive." 
 
 The baronet smiled his assent to a request he already 
 understood, and Denbigh withdrew. 
 
 John Moseley insisted on putting the bays in requisition to 
 
PRECAUTION. 203 
 
 carry Denbigh for the first stage, and they now stood capa 
 risoned for the jaunt, with their master in a less joyous mood 
 than common, waiting the appearance of his companion. 
 
 Emily delighted in their annual excursion to Benfield 
 Lodge. She was beloved so warmly, and returned the 
 affection of its owner so sincerely, that the arrival of the day 
 never failed to excite that flow of spirits which generally 
 accompanies anticipated pleasures, ere experience has proved 
 how trifling are the greatest enjoyments the scenes of this 
 life bestow. Yet as the day of their departure drew near, 
 her spirits sunk in proportion ; and on the morning of Den 
 bigh s leave-taking, Emily seemed anything but excessively 
 happy. There was a tremor in her voice and a redness about 
 her eyes that alarmed Lady Moseley ; but as the paleness 
 of her cheeks was immediately succeeded by as fine a color 
 as the heart could wish, the anxious mother allowed herself 
 to be persuaded by Mrs. Wilson there was no danger, and 
 she accompanied her sister to her own room for some purpose 
 of domestic economy. It was at this moment Denbigh en 
 tered : he had paid his adieus to the matrons at the door, and 
 been directed by them to the little parlor in quest of Emily. 
 
 "I have come to make my parting compliments, Miss 
 Moseley," he said, in a tremulous voice, as he ventured to 
 hold forth his hand. " May heaven preserve you," he con 
 tinued, holding it in fervor to his bosom : then dropping it, 
 he hastily retired, as if unwilling to trust himself any longer 
 to utter all he felt. Emily stood a few moments, pale and 
 almost inanimate, as the tears flowed rapidly from her eyes ; 
 and then she sought a shelter in a seat of the window. Lady 
 Moseley, on returning, was alarmed lest the draught would 
 increase her indisposition ; but her sister, observing that the 
 window commanded a view of the road, thought the ah* too 
 mild to do her injury. 
 
204 PRECAUTION. 
 
 The personages who composed the society at B had 
 
 now, in a great measure, separated, in pursuit of their duties 
 or their pleasures. The merchant and his family left the 
 deanery for a watering-place. Francis and Clara had gone 
 on a little tour of pleasure in the northern counties, to take 
 
 L in their return homeward ; and the morning arrived 
 
 for the commencement of the baronet s journey to the same 
 place. The carriages had been ordered, and servants were 
 running in various ways, busily employed in their several 
 occupations, when Mrs. Wilson, accompanied by John and his 
 sisters, returned from a walk they had taken to avoid the 
 bustle of the house. A short distance from the park gates, 
 an equipage was observed approaching, creating by its 
 numerous horses and attendants a dust which drove the 
 pedestrians to one side of the road. An uncommonly elegant 
 and admirably fitted travelling barouche and six rolled by, 
 with the graceful steadiness of an English equipage : several 
 servants on horseback were in attendance; and our little 
 party were struck with the beauty of the whole establish 
 ment. 
 
 " Can it be possible Lord Bolton drives such elegant 
 horses ?" cried John, with the ardor of a connoisseur in that 
 noble animal. " They are the finest set in the kingdom." 
 
 Jane s eye had seen, through the clouds of dust, the 
 armorial bearings, which seemed to float in the dark glossy 
 panels of the carriage, and she observed, " It is an earl s 
 coronet, but they are not the Bolton arms." Mrs. Wilson and 
 Emily had noticed a gentleman reclining at his ease, as the 
 owner of the gallant show ; but its passage was too rapid to 
 enable them to distinguish the features of the courteous old 
 earl; indeed, Mrs. Wilson remarked, she thought him a 
 younger man than her friend. 
 
 "Pray, sir," said John to a tardy groom, as he civilly 
 
PRECAUTION. 205 
 
 walked his horse by the ladies, "who has passed in the 
 barouche ?" 
 
 " My Lord Pendennyss, sir." 
 
 " Pendennyss !" exclaimed Mrs. Wilson, with a tone of 
 regret, " how unfortunate !" 
 
 She had seen the day named for his visit pass without his 
 arrival, and now, as it was too late to profit by the oppor 
 tunity, he had come for the second tune into her neighborhood. 
 Emily had learnt, by the solicitude of her aunt, to take an 
 interest in the young peer s movements, and desired John to 
 ask a question or two of the groom. 
 
 " Where does your lord stop to-night ?" 
 
 " At Bolton Castle, sir ; and I heard my lord tell his valet 
 that he intended staying one day hereabouts, and the day 
 after to-morrow he goes to Wales, yoir honor." 
 
 " I thank you, friend," said John ; when the man spurred 
 his horse after the cavalcade. The carriages were at the 
 door, and Sir Edward had been hurrying Jane to enter, as a 
 servant, in a rich livery and well mounted, galloped up and 
 delivered a letter for Mrs. Wilson, who, on opening it, read 
 the following : 
 
 " The Earl of Pendennyss begs leave to present his most 
 respectful compliments to Mrs. W T ilson and the family of Sir 
 Edward Moseley. Lord Pendennyss will have the honor of 
 paying his respects in person at any moment that the widow 
 of his late invaluable friend, Lieutenant-General Wilson, will 
 please to appoint. 
 
 Bolton Castle, Friday evening." 
 
 To this note Mrs. Wilson, bitterly regretting the necessity 
 which compelled her to forego the pleasure of meeting her 
 paragon, wrote in reply a short letter, disliking the formality 
 of a note. 
 
206 PRECAUTION. 
 
 "Mr LORD, 
 
 " I sincerely regret that an engagement which cannot be 
 postponed compels us to leave Moseley Hall within the hour, 
 and must, in consequence, deprive us of the pleasure of your 
 intended visit. But as circumstances have connected your 
 lordship with some of the dearest, although the most melan 
 choly events of my life, I earnestly beg you will no longer 
 consider us as strangers to your person, as we havs long 
 ceased to be to your character. It will afford me the greatest 
 pleasure to hear that there will be a prospect of our meeting 
 in town next winter, where I may find a more fitting oppor 
 tunity of expressing those grateful feelings so long due to 
 your lordship from your sincere friend, 
 
 " CHARLOTTE WILSON. 
 " Moseley Hall, Friday morning." 
 
 With this answer the servant was despatched, and the 
 carriages moved on. John had induced Emily to trust her 
 self once more to the bays and his skill ; but on perceiving 
 the melancholy of her aunt, she insisted on exchanging seats 
 with Jane, who had accepted a place in the carriage of Mrs. 
 Wilson. No objection being made, Mrs. Wilson and her 
 niece rode the first afternoon together in her travelling chaise. 
 The road run within a quarter of a mile of Bolton Castle, and 
 the ladies endeavored in vain to get a glimpse of the person 
 of the young nobleman. Emily was willing to gratify her 
 aunt s propensity to dwell on the character and history of her 
 favorite ; and hoping to withdraw her attention gradually 
 from more unpleasant recollections, asked several trifling 
 questions relating to those points. 
 
 "The earl must be very rich, aunt, from the style he 
 maintains." 
 
 " Very, my dear ; his family I am unacquainted with, but 
 
PRECAUTION. 207 
 
 I understand his title is an extremely ancient one ; and some 
 one, I believe Lord Bolton, mentioned that his estates in Wales 
 alone, exceeded fifty thousand a year." 
 
 " Much good might be done," said Emily, thoughtfully, 
 " with such a fortune." 
 
 " Much good is done," cried her aunt, with fervor. " I 
 am told by every one who knows him, his donations are large 
 and frequent. Sir Herbert Nicholson said he was extremely 
 simple in his habits, and it leaves large sums at his disposal 
 every year." 
 
 " The bestowal of money is not always charity," said Emily, 
 with an arch smile and a slight color. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson smiled in her turn as she answered, " not al 
 ways, but it is charity to hope for the best." 
 
 " Sir Herbert knew him, then 1" said Emily. 
 
 " Perfectly well ; they were associated together in the ser 
 vice for several years, and he spoke of him with a fervor 
 equal to my warmest expectations." 
 
 The Moseley arms in F was kept by an old butler of 
 
 the family, and Sir Edward every year, in going to or coming 
 
 from L , spent a night under its roof. He was received 
 
 by its master with a respect that none who ever knew the 
 baronet well, could withhold from his goodness of heart and 
 many virtues. 
 
 " Well, Jackson," said the baronet, kindly, as he was 
 seated at the supper table, " how does custom increase with 
 you I hope you and the master of the Dun Cow are more 
 amicable than formerly." 
 
 " Why, Sir Edward," replied the host, who had lost a 
 little of the deference of the servant in the landlord, but none 
 of his real respect, "Mr. Daniels and I are more upon a 
 footing of late than we was, when your goodness enabled me 
 to take the house ; then he got all the great travellers, and 
 
208 PRECAUTION. 
 
 for more than a twelvemonth I had not a title in my house 
 but yourself and a great London doctor, that was called here 
 to see a sick person in the town. He had the impudence to 
 call me the knight barrow-knight, your honor, and we had a 
 quarrel upon that account." 
 
 " I am glad, however, to find you are gaining in the rank 
 of your customers, and trust, as the occasion has ceased, you 
 will be more inclined to be good-natured to each other." 
 
 " Why, as to good-nature, Sir Edward, I lived with your 
 honor ten years, and you must know somewhat of my tem 
 per," said Jackson, with the self-satisfaction of an approving 
 conscience ; " but Sam Daniels is a man who is never easy 
 unless he is left quietly at the top of the ladder ; however," 
 continued the host, with a chuckle, " I have given him a dose 
 lately." 
 
 " How so, Jackson ?" inquired the baronet, willing to gra 
 tify the man s wish to relate his triumphs. 
 
 " Your honor must have heard mention made of a 
 great lord, the Duke of Derwent ; well, Sir Edward, about 
 six weeks agone he passed through with my Lord Chatterton." 
 
 " Chatterton !" exclaimed John, interrupting him, " has he 
 been so near us again, and so lately ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Moseley," replied Jackson with a look of im 
 portance : " they dashed into my yard with their chaise and 
 four, with five servants, and would you think it, Sir Edward, 
 they hadn t been in the house ten minutes, before Daniels 
 son was fishing from the servants, who they were ; I told 
 him, Sir Edward dukes don t come every day." 
 
 " How came you to get his grace away from the Dun Cow 
 chance ?" 
 
 " No, your honor," said the host, pointing to his sign, and 
 bowing reverently to his old master, " the Moseley Arms did 
 it. Mr. Daniels used to taunt me with having worn a livery, 
 
PRECAUTION. 209 
 
 and has said more than once he could milk his cow, but that 
 your honor s arms would never lift me into a comfortable seat 
 for life ; so I just sent him a message by the way of letting 
 him know my good foitune, your honor." 
 
 " And what was it ?" 
 
 " Only that your honor s arms had shoved a duke and a 
 baron into my house that s all. * 
 
 " And I suppose Daniels legs shoved your messenger out 
 of his," said John, laughing. 
 
 " No, Mr. Moseley ; Daniels would hardly dare do that : 
 but yesterday, your honor, yesterday evening, beat every 
 thing. Daniels was seated before his door, and I was taking 
 a pipe at mine, Sir Edward, as a coach and six, with servants 
 upon servants, drove down the street ; it got near us, and the 
 boys were reining the horses into the yard of the Dun Cow, 
 as the gentleman in the coach saw my sign : he sent a groom 
 to inquire who kept the house ; I got up, your honor, and 
 told him my name, sir. Mr. Jackson, said his lordship, 
 my respect for the family of Sir Edward Moseley is too 
 great not to give my custom to an old servant of his 
 family. " 
 
 " Indeed," said the baronet ; " pray who was my lord ?" 
 
 " The Earl of Pendennyss, your honor. Oh, he is a sweet 
 gentleman, and he asked all about my living with your honor, 
 and about Madam Wilson." 
 
 u Did his lordship stay the night ?" inquired Mrs. Wilson, 
 excessively gratified at a discovery of the disposition mani 
 fested by the earl towards her. 
 
 "Yes, madam, he left here after breakfast." 
 
 "What message did you send the Dun Cow this time, 
 Jackson?" cried John. 
 
 Jackson looked a little foolish, but the question being re 
 peated, he answered " Why, sir, I was a little crowded for 
 
210 PRECAUTION. 
 
 room, and so your honor, so I just sent Tom across the 
 street, to know if Mr. Daniels couldn t keep a couple of the 
 grooms. 
 
 "And Tom got his head broke." 
 
 " No, Mr. John, the tankard missed him ; but if " 
 
 " Very well," said the baronet, willing to change the con 
 versation, " you have been so fortunate of late, you can afford 
 to be generous ; and I advise you to cultivate harmony with 
 your neighbor, or I may take my arms down, and you may 
 lose your noble visiters see my room prepared." 
 
 " Yes, your honor," said the host, and bowing respectfully 
 he withdrew. 
 
 " At least, aunt," cried John, pleasantly, " we have the 
 pleasure of supping in the same room with the puissant earl, 
 albeit there be twenty-four hours difference in the time." 
 
 " I sincerely wish there had not been that difference," ob 
 served his father, taking his sister kindly by the hand. 
 
 " Such an equipage must have been a harvest indeed to 
 Jackson," remarked the mother as they broke up for the 
 evening. 
 
 The whole establishment at Benfield Lodge, were drawn 
 up to receive them on the following day in the great hall, 
 and in the centre was fixed the upright and lank figure of its 
 master, with his companion in leanness, honest Peter Johnson, 
 on his right. 
 
 " I have made out, Sir Edward and my Lady Moseley, to 
 get as far as my entrance, to receive the favor you are con 
 ferring upon me. It was a rule in my day, and one invariably 
 practised by all the great nobility, such as Lord Gosford 
 and and his sister, the lady Juliana Dayton, always to re 
 ceive and quit their guests in the country at the great en 
 trance ; and in conformity ah, Emmy dear," cried the old 
 gentleman, folding her in his arms as the tears rolled down 
 
PRECAUTION. 211 
 
 his cheeks, forgetting his speech in the warmth of his feeling, 
 " You are saved to us again ; God be praised there, that 
 will do, let me breathe let me breathe ;" and then by the 
 way of getting rid of his softer feelings, he turned upon John ; 
 " so, youngster, you would be playing with edge tools, and 
 put the life of your sister in danger. No gentleman held a 
 gun in my day ; that is, no gentleman about the court. My 
 Lord Gosford had never killed a bird in his life, or drove his 
 horse ; no sir, gentlemen then were not coachmen. Peter, 
 how old was I before I took the reins of the chaise, in 
 driving round the estate the time you broke your arm ? it 
 
 was" 
 
 Peter, who stood a little behind his master, in modest re 
 tirement, and who had only thought his elegant form brought 
 thither to embellish the show, when called upon, advanced a 
 step, made a low bow, and answered in his sharp key : 
 
 " In the year 1798, your honor, and the 38th of his present 
 majesty, and the 64th year of your life, sir, June the 12th, 
 about meridian." 
 
 Peter dropped bac*k as he finished ; but recollecting him 
 self, regained his place with a bow, as he added, "new 
 style." 
 
 " How are you, old style ?" cried John, with a slap on the 
 back, that made the steward jump again. 
 
 " Mr. John Moseley young gentleman" a term Peter 
 had left off using to the baronet within the last ten years, 
 " did you think to bring home the goggles ?" 
 
 " Oh yes," said John, gravely, producing them from his 
 pocket. Most of the party having entered the parlor, he put 
 them carefully on the bald head of the steward "There, 
 Mr Peter Johnson, you have your property again, safe and 
 sound." 
 
 " And Mr. Denbigh said he felt much indebted to your 
 
212 PRECAUTION. 
 
 consideration in sending them," said Emily, soothingly, as she 
 took them off with her beautiful hands. 
 
 " Ah, Miss Emmy," said the steward, with one of his best 
 bows, " that was a noble act ; God bless him !" then hold 
 ing up his finger significantly, "the fourteenth codicil to 
 master s will," and Peter laid his finger alongside his nose, as 
 he nodded his head in silence. 
 
 " I hope the thirteenth contains the name of honest Peter 
 Johnson," said the young lady, who felt herself uncommonly 
 well pleased with the steward s conversation. 
 
 " As witness, Miss Emmy witness to all but God for 
 bid," said the steward with solemnity, " I should ever live to 
 see the proving of them : no, Miss Emmy, master has done 
 for me what he intended, while I had youth to enjoy it. I 
 am rich, Miss Emmy good three hundred a year." Emily, 
 who had seldom heard so long a speech as the old man s 
 gratitude drew from him, expressed her pleasure at hearing 
 it, and shaking him kindly by the hand, left him for the 
 parlor. 
 
 " Niece," said Mr. Benfield, having scanned the party 
 closely with his eyes, " where is Colonel Denbigh ?" 
 
 " Colonel Egerton, you mean, sir," interrupted Lady 
 Moseley. 
 
 " No, my Lady Moseley," replied her uncle, with great 
 formality, " I mean Colonel Denbigh. I take it he is a colo 
 nel by this time," looking expressively at the baronet ; " and 
 who is fitter to be a colonel or a general, than a man who is 
 not afraid of gunpowder ?" 
 
 " Colonels must have been scarce in your youth, sir," cried 
 John, who had rather a mischievous propensity to start the 
 old man on his hobby. 
 
 "No, jackanapes, gentlemen killed one another then, al 
 though they did not torment the innocent birds : honor was 
 
PRECAUTION. 213 
 
 as dear to a gentleman of George the Second s court, as to 
 those of his grandson s, and honesty too, sirrah ay, honesty. 
 I remember when we were in, there was not a man of doubt 
 ful integrity in the ministry, or on our side even ; and then 
 again, when we went out, the opposition benches were filled 
 with sterling characters, making a parliament that was cor 
 rect throughout. Can you show me such a thing at this 
 day?" 
 
214 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A FEW days after the arrival of the Moseleys at the lodge, 
 
 John drove his sisters to the little village of L , which at 
 
 that time was thronged with an unusual number of visiters. 
 It had, among other fashionable arrangements for the accom 
 modation of its guests, one of those circulators of good and 
 evil, a public library. Books are, in a great measure, the in 
 struments of controlling the opinions of a nation like ours. 
 They are an engine, alike powerful to save or to destroy. It 
 cannot be denied, that our libraries contain as many volumes 
 of the latter, as the former description; for we rank amongst 
 the latter that long catalogue of idle productions, which, if 
 they produce no other evil, lead to the misspending of time, 
 our own perhaps included. But we cannot refrain expressing 
 our regret, that such formidable weapons in the cause of 
 morality, should be suffered to be wielded by any indifferent 
 or mercenary dealer, who undoubtedly will consult rather the 
 public tastes than the private good : the evil may be reme 
 diless, yet we love to express our sentiments, though we 
 should suggest nothing new or even profitable. Into one of 
 these haunts of the idle, then, John Moseley entered with a 
 lovely sister leaning on either arm. Books were the enter 
 tainers of Jane, and instructors of Emily. Sir Edward was 
 fond of reading of a certain sort that which required no 
 great depth of thought, or labor of research ; and, like most 
 others who are averse to contention, and disposed to be easily 
 satisfied, the baronet sometimes found he had harbored opi 
 nions on things not exactly reconcileable with the truth, 01 
 
PRECAUTION. 215 
 
 even with each other. It is quite as dangerous to give up 
 your faculties to the guidance of the author you are perusing, 
 as it is unprofitable to be captiously scrutinizing every syl 
 lable he may happen to advance ; and Sir Edward was, if 
 anything, a little inclined to the dangerous propensity. Un 
 pleasant, Sir Edward Moseley never was. Lady Moseley 
 very seldom took a book in her hand : her opinions were 
 established to her own satisfaction on all important points, 
 and on the minor ones, she made it a rule to coincide with 
 the popular feeling. Jane had a mind more active than her 
 father, and more brilliant than her mother ; and if she had 
 not imbibed injurious impressions from the unlicensed and 
 indiscriminate reading she practised, it was more owing to the 
 fortunate circumstance, that the baronet s library contained 
 nothing extremely offensive to a pure taste, nor dangerous to 
 good morals, than to any precaution of her parents against 
 the deadly, the irretrievable injury to be sustained from un- 
 governed liberty in this respect to a female mind. On the 
 other hand, Mrs. Wilson had inculcated the necessity of re 
 straint, in selecting the books for her perusal, so strenuously 
 on her niece, that what at first had been the effects of obecir" 
 ence and submission, had now settled into taste and habit ; 
 and Emily seldom opened a book, unless in search of inform, 
 ation or if it were the indulgence of a less commendable 
 spirit, it was an indulgence chastened by a taste and judg 
 ment that lessened the danger, if it did not entirely re 
 move it. 
 
 The room was filled with gentlemen and ladies ; and while 
 John was exchanging his greetings with several of the neigh 
 boring gentry of his acquaintance, his sisters were running 
 nastily over a catalogue of the books kept for circulation, as 
 an elderly lady, of foreign accent and dress, entered ; and 
 depositing a couple of religious works on the counter, she 
 
216 PRECAUTION. 
 
 inquired for the remainder of the set. The peculiarity of her 
 idiom and her proximity to the sisters caused them both to 
 look up at the moment, and, to the surprise of Jane, her sister 
 uttered a slight exclamation of pleasure. The foreigner was 
 attracted by the sound, and after a moment s hesitation, she 
 respectfully curtsied. Emily, advancing, kindly offered her 
 hand, and the usual inquiries after each other s welfare suc 
 ceeded. To the questions asked after the friend of the 
 matron Emily learnt, with some surprise, and no less satisfac 
 tion, that she resided in a retired cottage, about five miles 
 
 from L , where they had been for the last six months, 
 
 and where they expected to remain for some time, " until she 
 could prevail on Mrs. Fitzgerald to return to Spain ; a thing, 
 now there was peace, of which she did not despair." After 
 asking leave to call on them in then- retreat, and exchanging 
 good wishes, the Spanish lady withdrew, and, as Jane had 
 made her selection, was followed immediately by John 
 Moseley and his sisters. Emily, in their walk home, ac 
 quainted her brother that the companion of their Bath 
 incognita had been at the library, and that for the first time 
 she had learnt that then- young acquaintance was, or had 
 been, married, and her name. John listened to his sister 
 with the interest which the beautiful Spaniard had excited at 
 the time they first met, and laughingly told her he could not 
 believe their unknown friend had ever been a wife. To 
 satisfy this doubt, and to gratify a wish they both had to 
 renew their acquaintance with the foreigner, they agreed to 
 drive to the cottage the following morning, accompanied by 
 Mrs. Wilson and Jane, if she would go ; but the next day was 
 
 the one appointed by Egerton for his arrival at L , and 
 
 Jane, under a pretence of writing letters, declined the 
 excursion. She had carefully examined the papers since liis 
 departure ; had seen his name included in the arrivals at 
 
PRECAUTION. 21*7 
 
 London; and at a later day, had read an account of the 
 review by the commander-in-chief of the regiment to which 
 he belonged. He had never written to any of her friends ; 
 but, judging from her own feelings, she did not in the least 
 doubt he would be as punctual as love could make him. 
 Mrs. Wilson listened to her niece s account of the unexpected 
 interview in the library with pleasure, and cheerfully promised 
 to accompany them in their morning s excursion, as she had 
 both a wish to alleviate sorrow, and a desire to better under 
 stand the character of this accidental acquaintance of Emily s. 
 
 Mr. Benfield and the baronet had a long conversation in 
 relation to Denbigh s fortune the morning after their arrival ; 
 and the old man was loud in his expression of dissatisfaction 
 at the youngster s pride. As the baronet, however, in the 
 fulness of his affection and simplicity, betrayed to his uncle 
 his expectation of a union between Denbigh and his daughter, 
 Mr. Benfield became contented with this reward ; one fit, he 
 thought, for any services. On the whole, " it was best, as he 
 was to marry Emmy, he should sell out of the army ; and as 
 there would be an election soon, he would bring him into 
 parliament yes yes it did a man so much good to sit one 
 term in the parliament of this realm to study human nature. 
 All his own knowledge in that way was raised on the founda 
 tions laid in the House." To this Sir Edward cordially 
 assented, and the gentlemen separated, happy in their 
 arrangements to advance the welfare of two beings they so 
 sincerely loved. 
 
 Although the care and wisdom of Mrs. Wilson had pro 
 hibited the admission of any romantic or enthusiastic 
 expectations of happiness into the day-dreams of her charge, 
 yet the buoyancy of health, of hope, of youth, of innocence, 
 had elevated Emily to a height of enjoyment hitherto unknown 
 to her usually placid and disciplined pleasures. Denbigh 
 
 10 
 
218 PRECAUTION. 
 
 certainly mingled in most of her thoughts, both of the past 
 and the future, and she stood on the threshold of that fan 
 tastic edifice in which Jane ordinarily resided. Emily was in 
 the situation perhaps the most dangerous to a young female 
 Christian: her heart, her affections, were given to a man, to 
 appearance, every way worthy of possessing them, it is true; 
 but she had admitted a rival in her love to her Maker ; and 
 to keep those feelings distinct, to bend the passions in due 
 submission to the more powerful considerations of endless 
 duty, of unbounded gratitude, is one of the most trying 
 struggles of Christian fortitude. We are much more apt to 
 forget our God in prosperity than adversity. The weakness 
 of human nature drives us to seek assistance in distress ; but 
 vanity and worldly-mindedness often induce us to imagine we 
 control the happiness we only enjoy. 
 
 Sir Edward and Lady Moseley could see nothing in the 
 prospect of the future but lives of peace and contentment for 
 their children. Clara was happily settled, and her sisters 
 were on the eve of making connexions with men of family, 
 condition, and certain character. What more could be done 
 for them ? They must, like other people, take their chances 
 in the lottery of life ; they could only hope and pray for their 
 prosperity, and this they did with great sincerity. Not so 
 Mrs. Wilson : she had guarded the invaluable charge 
 intrusted to her keeping with too much assiduity, too keen 
 an interest, too just a sense of the awful responsibility she 
 had undertaken, to desert her post at the moment watchful 
 ness was most required. By a temperate, but firm and well- 
 chosen conversation she kept alive the sense of her real 
 condition in her niece, and labored hard to prevent the 
 blandishments of life from supplanting the lively hope of 
 enjoying another existence. She endeavored, by her pious 
 example, her prayers, and her iudicious allusions, to keep the 
 
PRECAUTION. 219 
 
 passion of love in the breast of Emily secondary to the more 
 important object of her creation ; and, by the aid of a kind 
 and Almighty Providence, her labors, though arduous, were 
 crowned with success. 
 
 As the family were seated round the table after dinner, on 
 the day of their walk to the library, John Moseley, awakening 
 from a reverie, exclaimed suddenly, 
 
 " Which do you think the handsomest, Emily, Grace Chat- 
 terton or Miss Fitzgerald ?" 
 
 Emily laughed, as she answered, " Grace, certainly ; do 
 you not think so, brother ?" 
 
 " Yes, on the whole ; but don t you think Grace looks like 
 her mother at times ?" 
 
 " Oh no, she is the image of Chatterton." 
 
 " She is very like yourself, Emmy dear," said Mr. Benfield, 
 who was listening to their conversation. 
 
 " Me, dear uncle ; I have never heard it remarked before." 
 
 " Yes, yes. she is as much like you as she can stare. I 
 never saw as great a resemblance, excepting between you and 
 Lady Juliana Lady Juliana, Emmy, was a beauty in her 
 day ; very like her uncle, old Admiral Griffin you can t re 
 member the admiral he lost an eye in a battle with the 
 Dutch, and part of his cheek in a frigate, when a young man 
 fighting the Dons. Oh, he was a pleasant old gentleman ; 
 many a guinea has he given me when I was a boy at 
 school." 
 
 " And he looked like Grace Chatterton, uncle, did he ?" 
 asked John, innocently. 
 
 " No, sir, he did not ; who said he looked like Grace Chat 
 terton, jackanapes ?" 
 
 " Why, I thought you made it out, sir : but perhaps it 
 was the description that deceived me his eye and cheek, 
 uncle." 
 
220 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Did Lord Gosford leave children, uncle ?" inquired 
 Emily, throwing a look of reproach at John. 
 
 " No, Emmy dear ; his only child, a son, died at school. 
 I shall never forget the grief of poor Lady Juliana. She 
 postponed a visit to Bath three weeks on account of it. A 
 gentleman who was paying his addresses to her at the time, 
 offered then, and was refused indeed, her self-denial raised 
 such an admiration of her in the men, that immediately after 
 the death of young Lord Dayton, no less than seven gentle 
 men offered, and were refused in one week. I heard Lady 
 Juliana say, that what between lawyers and suitors, she had 
 not a moment s peace." 
 
 " Lawyers T cried Sir Edward : " what had she to do with 
 lawyers ?" 
 
 " Why, Sir Edward, six thousand a year fell to her by the 
 death of her nephew ; and there were trustees and deeds to 
 be made out poor young woman, she was so affected, Emmy, 
 I don t think sho went out for a week all the time at home 
 reading papers, and attending to her important concerns. 
 Oh ! she was a woman of taste ; her mourning, and liveries, 
 and new carriage, were more admired than those of any one 
 about the court. Yes, yes, the title is extinct ; I know of 
 none of the name now. The Earl did not survive his loss 
 but six years, and the countess died broken-hearted, about a 
 twelvemonth before him." 
 
 " And Lady Juliana, uncle," inquired John, " what became 
 of her, did she marry ?" 
 
 The old man helped himself to a glass of wine, and looked 
 over his shoulder to see if Peter was at hand. Peter, who 
 had been originally butler, and had made it a condition of 
 his preferment, that whenever there was company, he should 
 be allowed to preside at the sideboard, was now at his sta 
 tion. Mr. Benfield, seeing his old friend near him, venture^ 
 
PRECAUTION. 221 
 
 to talk on a subject lie seldom trusted himself with in com 
 pany. 
 
 " Why, yes yes she did marry, it s time, although she 
 did tell me she intended to die a maid ; but hem I sup 
 pose hem it was compassion for the old viscount, -who 
 often said he could not live without her ; and then it gave 
 her the power of doing so much good, a jointure of five thou 
 sand a year added to her own income: yet hem I do 
 confess I did not think she would have chosen such an old 
 and infirm man but, Peter, give me a glass of claret." 
 Peter handed the claret, and the old man proceeded : 
 " They say he was very cross to her, and that, no doubt, must 
 have made her unhappy, she was so very tender-hearted." 
 
 How much longer the old gentleman would have continued 
 in this strain, it is impossible to say ; but he was interrupted 
 by the opening of the parlor door, and the sudden appear 
 ance on its threshold of Denbigh. Every countenance glowed 
 with pleasure at this unexpected return of their favorite ; and 
 but for the prudent caution of Mrs. Wilson, in handing a 
 glass of water to her niece, the surprise might have proved 
 too much for her. The salutations of Denbigh were re 
 turned by the different members of the family with a cordi 
 ality that must have told him how much he was valued by 
 all its branches ; and after briefly informing them that his 
 review was over, and that he had thrown himself into a 
 chaise and travelled post until he had rejoined them, he took 
 his seat by Mr. Benfield, who received him with a marked 
 preference, exceeding that which he had shown to any man 
 who had ever entered his doors, Lord Gosford himself not 
 excepted. Peter removed from his station behind his mas 
 ter s chair to one where he could face the new comer ; and 
 after wiping his eyes until they filled so rapidly with water, 
 that at last he was noticed by the delighted John to put on 
 
222 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the identical goggles which his care had provided for Den 
 bigh in his illness. His laugh drew the attention of the rest 
 to the honest steward, and when Denbigh was told this was 
 Mr. Benfield s ambassador to the hall, he rose from his chair, 
 and taking the old man by the hand, kindly thanked him for 
 his thoughtful consideration for his weak eyes. 
 
 Peter took the offered hand in both his own, and after ma 
 king one or two unsuccessful efforts to speak, he uttered, 
 " Thank you, thank you ; may Heaven bless you," and burst 
 into tears. This stopped the laugh, and John followed the 
 steward from the room, while his master exclaimed, wiping 
 his eyes, " Kind and condescending; just such another as my 
 old friend, the Earl of Gosford." 
 
PRECAUTION. 223 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 AT the appointed hour, the carriage of Mrs. Wilson 
 was ready to convey herself and niece to the cottage of 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald. John was left behind, under the pretence 
 of keeping Denbigh company in his morning avocations, but 
 really because Mrs. Wilson doubted the propriety of his 
 becoming a visiting acquaintance at the house, tenanted as 
 the cottage was represented to be. John was too fond of 
 his friend to make any serious objections, and was satisfied 
 for the present, by sending his compliments, and requesting 
 his sister to ask permission for him to call in one of his 
 morning excursions, in order to pay his personal respects. 
 
 They found the cottage a beautiful and genteel, though a 
 very small and retired dwelling, almost hid by the trees and 
 shrubs which surrounded it, and its mistress in its little 
 veranda, expecting the arrival of Emily. Mrs. Fitzgerald 
 was a Spaniard, under twenty, of a melancholy, yet highly 
 interesting countenance ; her manners were soft and retiring, 
 but evidently bore the impression of good company, if not 
 of high life. She was extremely pleased with this renewal 
 of attention on the part of Emily, and expressed her gratitude 
 to both ladies for their kindness in seeking her out in her 
 solitude. She presented her more matronly companion to 
 them, by the name of Donna Lorenza ; and as nothing but 
 good feeling prevailed, and useless ceremony was banished, 
 the little party were soon on terms of friendly intercourse. 
 The young widow (for such her dress indicated her to be), 
 did the honors of her house with graceful ease, and conduct- 
 
224 PRECAUTION. 
 
 ed her visitors into her little grounds, which, together with 
 the cottage, gave evident proofs of the taste and elegance of 
 its occupant. The establishment she supported she repre 
 sented as very small ; two women and an aged man servant, 
 with occasionally a laborer for her garden and shrubbery. 
 They never visited ; it was a resolution she had made on 
 fixing her residence here, but if Mrs. Wilson and Miss 
 Moseley would forgive the rudeness of not returning their 
 call, nothing would give her more satisfaction than a frequent 
 renewal of their visits. Mrs. Wilson took so deep an 
 interest in the misfortunes of this young female, and was so 
 much pleased with the modest resignation of her manner, 
 that it required little persuasion on the part of the recluse to 
 obtain a promise of soon repeating her visit. Emily 
 mentioned the request of John, and Mrs. Fitzgerald received 
 it with a mournful smile, as she replied that Mr. Moseley 
 had laid her under such an obligation in their first interview, 
 she could not deny herself the pleasure of again thanking 
 him for it ; but she must be excused if she desired they 
 would limit their attendants to him, as there was but one 
 gentleman in England whose visits she admitted, and it was 
 seldom indeed he called ; he had seen her but once since 
 she had resided in Norfolk. 
 
 After giving a promise not to suffer any one else to 
 accompany them, and promising an early call again, our 
 ladies returned to Benfield Lodge in season to dress for 
 dinner. On entering the drawing-room, they found the 
 elegant person of Colonel Egerton leaning on the back of 
 Jane s chair. He had arrived during their absence, and 
 immediately sought the baronet s family. His reception, if 
 not as warm as that given to Denbigh, was cordial from all 
 but the master of the house ; and even he was in such spirits 
 by the company around him, and the prospects of Emily s 
 
PRECAUTION. 225 
 
 marriage (which he considered as settleaj, that he forced him 
 self to an appearance of good will he did not feel. Colonel 
 Egerton was either deceived by his manner, or too much a 
 man of the world to discover his suspicion, and everything 
 in consequence was very harmoniously, if not sincerely, 
 conducted between them. 
 
 Lady Moseley was completely happy. If she had the 
 least doubts before, as to the intentions of Egerton, they 
 were now removed. His journey to that unfashionable 
 watering-place, was owing to his passion ; and however she 
 might at times have doubted as to Sir Edgar s heir, 
 Denbigh she thought a man of too little consequence in the 
 world, to make it possible he would neglect to profit by his 
 situation in the family of Sir Edward Moseley. She was 
 satisfied with both connexions. Mr. Benfield had told her 
 General Sir Frederic Denbigh was nearly allied to the Duko 
 of Derwent, and Denbigh had said the general was his 
 grandfather. Wealth, she knew Emily would possess from 
 both her uncle and aunt ; and the services of the gentleman 
 had their due weight upon the feelings of the affectionate 
 mother. The greatest of her maternal anxieties was removed, 
 and she looked forward to the peaceful enjoyment of the 
 remnant of her days in the bosom of her descendants. John, 
 the heir of a baronetcy, and 15,000 pounds a year, might 
 suit himself; and Grace Chatterton, she thought, would 
 be likely to prove the future Lady Moseley. Sir Edward, 
 without entering so deeply into anticipations of the future as 
 his wife, experienced an equal degree of contentment ; and 
 it would have been a difficult task to discover in the island 
 a roof, under which there resided at the moment more 
 happy countenances than at Benfield Lodge ; for as its 
 master had insisted on Denbigh becoming an inmate, he 
 was obliged to extend his hospitality in an equal degree to 
 10* 
 
226 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Colonel Egerton : indeed, the subject had been fully can 
 vassed between him and Peter the morning of his arrival, 
 and was near being decided against his admission, when the 
 steward, who had picked up all the incidents of the arbor 
 cene from the servants (and of course with many exaggera 
 tions), mentioned to his master that the colonel was very 
 active, and that he even contrived to bring water to revive 
 Miss Emmy, a great distance, in the hat of Captain Jarvis, 
 which was full of holes, Mr. John having blown it off the 
 head of the captain without hurting a hair, in firing at a 
 woodcock. This mollified the master a little, and he agreed 
 to suspend his decision for further observation. At dinner, 
 the colonel happening to admire the really handsome face 
 of Lord Gosford, as delineated by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 which graced the dining-room of Benfield Lodge, its master, 
 in a moment of unusal kindness, gave the invitation ; it was 
 politely accepted, and the colonel at once domesticated. 
 
 The face of John Moseley alone, at times, exhibited 
 evidences of care and thought, and at such moments it 
 might be a subject of doubt whether he thought the most 
 of Grace Chatterton or her mother : if the latter, the former 
 was sure to lose ground in his estimation ; a serious misfor 
 tune to John, not to be able to love Grace without alloy. 
 His letters from her brother mentioned his being still at 
 Denbigh castle, in Westmoreland, the seat of his friend the 
 Duke of Derwent ; and John thought one or two of his 
 encomiums on Lady Harriet Denbigh, the sister of his grace, 
 augured that the unkindness of Emily might in time be 
 forgotten. The dowager and her daughters were at the 
 seat of a maiden aunt in Yorkshire, where as John knew no 
 male animal was allowed admittance, he was tolerably easy 
 at the disposition of things. Nothing but legacy-hunting 
 he knew would induce the dowager to submit to such a 
 
PRECAUTION. 227 
 
 banishment from the other sex ; but that was so preferable 
 to husband-hunting he was satisfied. " I wish," said John 
 mentally, as he finished the perusal of his letter, " mother 
 Chatterton would get married herself, and she might let 
 Kate and Grace manage for themselves. Kate would do 
 very well, I dare say, and how would Grace make out !" 
 John sighed, and whistled for Dido and Rover. 
 
 In the manners of Colonel Egerton there was the same 
 general disposition to please, and the same unremitted atten 
 tion to the wishes and amusements of Jane. They had 
 renewed their poetical investigations, and Jane eagerly 
 encouraged a taste which afforded her delicacy some little 
 coloring for the indulgence of an association different from 
 the real truth, and which, in her estimation, was necessary to 
 her happiness. Mrs. Wilson thought the distance between 
 the two suitors for the favor of her nieces was, if anything, 
 increased by their short separation, and particularly noticed 
 on the part of the colonel an aversion to Denbigh that at 
 times painfully alarmed, by exciting apprehensions for the 
 future happiness of the precious treasure she had prepared 
 herself to yield to his solicitations, whenever properly prof 
 fered. In the intercourse between Emily and her preserver, 
 as there was nothing to condemn, so there was much to 
 admire. The attentions of Denbigh were pointed, although 
 less exclusive than those of the colonel ; and the aunt was 
 pleased to observe that if the manners of Egerton had more 
 of the gloss of life, those of Denbigh were certainly dis 
 tinguished by a more finished delicacy and propriety. The 
 one appeared the influence of custom and association, with a 
 tincture of artifice ; the other, benevolence, with a just per 
 ception of what was due to others, and with an air of sincerity, 
 when speaking of sentiments and principles, that was parti- 
 ticukriy pleasing to the watclaful widow. At times, however, 
 
228 PRECAUTION. 
 
 she could not but observe an air of restraint, if not of awk 
 wardness, about him that was a little surprising. It was most 
 observable in mixed society, and once or twice her imagina 
 tion pictured his sensations into something like alarm. These 
 unpleasant interruptions to her admiration were soon forgotten 
 in her just appreciation of the more solid parts of his charac 
 ter, which appeared literally to be unexceptionable; and 
 when momentary uneasiness would steal over her, the 
 remembrance of the opinion of Dr. Ives, his behavior with 
 Jarvis, his charity, and chiefly his devotion to her niece, would 
 not fail to drive the disagreeable thoughts from her mind. 
 Emily herself moved about, the image of joy and innocence. 
 If Denbigh were near her, she was happy ; if absent, she 
 suffered no uneasiness. Her feelings were so ardent, and 
 yet so pure, that jealousy had no admission. Perhaps no 
 circumstances existed to excite this usual attendant of the 
 passion ; but as the heart of Emily was more enchained than 
 her imagination, her affections were not of the restless nature 
 of ordinary attachments, though more dangerous to her peace 
 of mind in the event of an unfortunate issue. With Denbigh 
 she never walked or rode alone. He had never made the 
 request, and her delicacy would have shrunk from such an 
 open manifestation of her preference ; but he read to her and 
 her aunt ; he accompanied them in their little excursions ; 
 and once or twice John noticed that she took the offered 
 hand of Denbigh to assist her over any little impediment in 
 their course, instead of her usual unobtrusive custom of 
 taking his arm on such occasions. "Well, Miss Emily," 
 thought John, " you appear to have chosen another favorite," 
 on her doing this three times in succession in one of their 
 walks. "How strange it is women will quit their natural 
 friends for a face they have hardly seen." John forgot his 
 own " There is no danger, dear Grace," when his sister was 
 
PRECAUTION. 229 
 
 almost dead with apprehension. But John loved Einily too 
 well to witness her preference of another with satisfaction, 
 even though Denbigh was the favorite ; a feeling which soon 
 wore away, however, by dint of custom and reflection. Mr. 
 Benfield had taken it into his head that if the wedding of 
 Emily could be solemnized while the family was at the lodge, 
 it would render him the happiest of men ; and how to com 
 pass this object, was the occupation of a whole morning s 
 contemplation. Happily for Emily s blushes, the old gentle 
 man harbored the most fastidious notions of female delicacy, 
 and never in conversation made the most distant allusion to 
 the expected connexion. He, therefore, in conformity with 
 these feelings, could do nothing openly; all must be the 
 effect of management ; and as he thought Peter one of the 
 best contrivers in the world, to his ingenuity he determined 
 to refer the arrangement. 
 
 The bell rang " Send Johnson to me, David." 
 
 In a few minutes, the drab coat and blue yarn stockings 
 entered his dressing-room with the body of Mr. Peter Johnson 
 snugly cased within them. 
 
 "Peter," commenced Mr. Benfield, pointing kindly to a 
 chair, which the steward respectfully declined, "I suppose 
 you know that Mr. Denbigh, the grandson of General Den 
 bigh, who was hi parliament with me, is about to marry my 
 little Emmy ?" 
 
 Peter smiled, as he bowed an assent. 
 
 "Now, Peter, a wedding would, of all things, make me 
 most happy ; that is, to have it here in the lodge. It would 
 remind me so much of the marriage of Lord Gosford, and 
 the bridemaids. I wish your opinion how to bring it about 
 before they leave us. Sir Edward and Anne decline inter 
 fering, and Mrs. Wilson I am afraid to speak to on the 
 subject" 
 
230 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Peter was not a little alarmed by this sudden requisition 
 on his inventive faculties, especially as a lady was in the case ; 
 but, as he prided himself on serving his master, and loved 
 the hilarity of a wedding in his heart, he cogitated for some 
 time in silence, when, having thought a preliminary question 
 or two necessary, he broke it with saying 
 
 "Everything, I suppose, master, is settled between the 
 young people ?" 
 
 " Everything, I take it, Peter." 
 
 " And Sir Edward and my lady ?" 
 
 "Willing; perfectly willing." 
 
 "And Madam Wilson, sir?" 
 
 " Willing, Peter, willing." 
 
 " And Mr. John and Miss Jane ?" 
 
 " All willing ; the whole family is willing, to the best of 
 my belief." 
 
 " There is the Rev. Mr. Ives and Mrs. Ives, master ?" 
 
 " They wish it, I know. Don t you think they wish others 
 as happy as themselves, Peter ?" 
 
 " No doubt they do, master. Well, then, as everybody is 
 willing, and the young people agreeable, the only thing to be 
 done, sir, is " 
 
 " Is what, Peter ?" exclaimed his impatient master, 
 observing him to hesitate. 
 
 " Why, sir, to send for the priest, I take it." 
 
 " Pshaw ! Peter Johnson, I know that myself," replied the 
 dissatisfied old man. " Cannot you help me to a better 
 plan ?" 
 
 " Why, master," said Peter, " I would have done as well 
 for Miss Emmy and your honor as I would have done for 
 myself. Now, sir, when I courted Patty Steele, your honor, 
 in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and 
 sixty-five, I should have been married but for one diffi- 
 
PRECAUTION. 
 
 culty, which your honor says is removed in the case of Miss 
 Emmy." 
 
 " What was that, Peter ?" asked his master, in a tender 
 tone. 
 
 " She wasn t willing, sir." 
 
 " Very well, poor Peter," replied Mr. Benfield, mildly, 
 " you may go." And the steward, bowing low, withdrew. 
 
 The similarity of their fortunes in love was a strong link in 
 the sympathies which bound the master and man together, 
 and the former never failed to be softened by an allusion to 
 Patty. The want of tact in the man, on the present occasion, 
 after much reflection, was attributed by his master to the fact 
 that Peter had never sat in parliament. 
 
232 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 MRS. WILSON and Emily, in the fortnight they had been 
 at Benfield Lodge, paid frequent and long visits to the cot 
 tage: and each succeeding interview left a more favorable 
 impression of the character of its mistress, and a greater cer 
 tainty that she was unfortunate. The latter, however, allu 
 ded very slightly to her situation or former life ; she was a 
 Protestant, to the great surprise of Mrs. Wilson ; and one that 
 misery had made nearly acquainted with the religion she 
 professed. Their conversations chiefly turned on the cus 
 toms of her own, as contrasted with those of her 
 adopted country, or in a pleasant exchange of opinions, 
 which the ladies possessed in complete unison. One morning 
 John had accompanied them and been admitted ; Mrs. Fitz 
 gerald receiving him with the frankness of an old acquaint 
 ance, though with the reserve of a Spanish lady. His visits 
 were permitted under the direction of his aunt, but no others 
 of the gentlemen were included amongst her guests. Mrs. 
 Wilson had casually mentioned, in the absence of her niece, 
 the interposition of Denbigh between her and death; and 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald was so much pleased at the noble conduct of 
 the gentleman, as to express a desire to see him ; but the 
 impressions of the moment appeared to have died away, as 
 nothing more was said by either lady on the subject, and it 
 was apparently forgotten. Mrs. Fitzgerald was found one 
 morning, weeping over a letter she held in her hand, and the 
 Donna Lorenza was endeavoring to console her. The situ 
 ation of this latter lady was somewhat doubtful ; she ar> 
 
PRECAUTION. 233 
 
 peared neither wholly a friend nor a menial. In the manners 
 of the two there was a striking difference; although the 
 Donna was not vulgar, she was far from possessing the polish 
 of her more juvenile friend, and Mrs. Wilson considered her 
 to be in a station between that of a housekeeper and that 
 of a companion. After hoping that no unpleasant intelligence 
 occasioned the distress they witnessed, the ladies were deli 
 cately about to take their leave, when Mrs. Fitzgerald en 
 treated them to remain. 
 
 " Your kind attention to me, dear madam, and the good 
 ness of Miss Moseley, give you a claim to know more of the 
 unfortunate being your sympathy has so greatly assisted to 
 attain her peace of mind. This letter is from the gentleman 
 of whom you have heard me speak, as once visiting me, and 
 though it has struck me with unusual force, it contains no 
 more than I expected to hear, perhaps no more than I de 
 serve to hear." 
 
 " I hope your friend has not been unnecessarily harsh : 
 severity is not the best way, always, of effecting repentance, 
 and I feel certain that you, my young friend, can have been 
 guilty of no offence that does not rather require gentle than 
 stern reproof," said Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 " I thank you, dear madam, for your indulgent opinion of 
 me, but although I have suffered much, I am willing to con 
 fess it is a merited punishment ; you are, however, mistaken 
 as to the source of my present sorrow. Lord Pendennyss is 
 the cause of grief, I believe, to no one, much less to me." 
 
 " Lord Pendennyss !" exclaimed Emily, in surprise, uncon 
 sciously looking -at her aunt. 
 
 " Pendennyss !" reiterated Mrs. Wilson, with animation ; 
 " and is he your friend, too ?" 
 
 " Yes, madam ; to his lordship I owe everything honor 
 comfort religion and even life itself." 
 
234 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson s cheek glowed with an unusual color, at thia 
 discovery of another act of benevolence and virtue, in a young 
 nobleman whose character she had so long admired, and 
 whose person she had in vain wished to meet. 
 
 " You know the earl, then ?" inquired Mrs. Fitzgerald. 
 
 " By reputation, only, my dear," said Mrs. Wilson ; " but 
 that is enough to convince me a friend of his must be a 
 worthy character, if anything were wanting to make us your 
 friends." 
 
 The conversation was continued for some time, and Mrs. 
 Fitzgerald saying she did not feel equal just then to the 
 undertaking, but the next day, if they would honor her with 
 another call, she would make them acquainted with the inci 
 dents of her life, and the reasons she had for speaking in such 
 terms of Lord Pendennyss. The promise to see her was 
 cheerfully made by Mrs. Wilson, and her confidence accepted; 
 not from a desire to gratify an idle curiosity, but a belief that 
 it was necessary to probe a wound to cure it ; and a correct 
 opinion, that she would be a better adviser for a young and 
 lovely woman, than even Pendennyss ; for the Donna Lorenza 
 she could hardly consider in a capacity to offer advice, much 
 less dictation. They then took their leave, and Emily, during 
 their ride, broke the silence with exclaiming, 
 
 " Wherever we hear of Lord Pendennyss, aunt, we hear 
 of him favorably." 
 
 " A certain sign, my dear, he is deserving of it. There is 
 hardly any man who has not his enemies, and those are 
 seldom just ; but we have met with none of the earl s yet." 
 
 " Fifty thousand a year will make many friends," observed 
 Emily, shaking her head. 
 
 " Doubtless, my love, or as many enemies ; but honor, life, 
 and religion, my child, are debts not owing to money in 
 this e -airfry. at least." 
 
PRECAUTION. 235 
 
 To this remark Emily assented ; and after expressing her 
 own admiration of the character of the young nobleman, she 
 dropped into a reverie. How many of his virtues she identified 
 with the person of Mr. Denbigh, it is not, just now, our task 
 to enumerate ; but judges of human nature may easily deter 
 mine, and that too without having sat in the parliament of 
 this realm.* 
 
 The morning this conversation occurred at the cottage, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Jarvis, with their daughters, made their unexpected 
 
 appearance at L . The arrival of a post-chaise and four, 
 
 with a gig, was an event soon circulated through the little 
 village, and the names of its owners reached the lodge just 
 as Jane had allowed herself to be persuaded by the colonel 
 to take her first walk with him unaccompanied by a third 
 person. Walking is much more propitious to declarations 
 than riding ; and whether it was premeditated on the part of 
 the colonel or not, or whether he was afraid that Mrs. Jarvia 
 or some one else would interfere, he availed himself of this 
 opportunity, and had hardly got out of hearing of her brother 
 and Denbigh, before he made Jane an explicit offer of his 
 hand. The surprise was so great, that some time elapsed 
 before the distressed girl could reply. This she, however, at 
 length did, but incoherently : she referred him to her parents, 
 as the arbiters of her fate, well knowing that her wishes had 
 long been those of her father and mother. With this the 
 colonel was obliged to be satisfied for the present. But their 
 walk had not ended, before he gradually drew from the con 
 fiding girl an acknowledgment that, should her parents decline 
 his offer, she would be very little less miserable than himself; 
 indeed, the most tenacious lover might have been content 
 with the proofs of regard that Jane, unused to control her 
 feelings, allowed herself to manifest on this occasion. Egerton 
 was in raptures ; a life devoted to her would never half repay 
 
236 PRECAUTION. 
 
 her condescension; and as their confidence increased with 
 their walk, Jane re-entered the lodge with a degree of happi 
 ness in her heart she had never before experienced. The 
 much dreaded declaration her own distressing acknowledg 
 ments, were made, and nothing farther remained but to live 
 and be happy. She flew into" the arms of her mother, and, 
 hiding her blushes in her bosom, acquainted her with the 
 colonel s offer and her own wishes. Lady Moseley, who was 
 prepared for such a communication, and had rather wondered 
 at its tardiness, kissed her daughter affectionately, as she 
 promised to speak to her father, and to obtain his appro 
 bation. 
 
 " But," she added, with a degree of formality and caution 
 which had better preceded than have followed the courtship, 
 " we must make the usual inquiries, my child, into the fitness 
 of Colonel Egerton as a husband for our daughter. Once 
 assured of that, you have nothing to fear." 
 
 The baronet was requested to grant an audience to Colonel 
 Egerton, who now appeared as determined to expedite things, 
 as he had been dilatory before. On meeting Sir Edward, he 
 made known his pretensions and hopes. The father, who 
 had been previously notified by his wife of what was forth 
 coming, gave a general answer, similar to the speech of the 
 mother, and the colonel bowed in acquiescence. 
 
 In the evening, the Jarvis family favored the inhabitants 
 of the lodge with a visit, and Mrs. Wilson was struck with 
 the singularity of their reception of the colonel. Miss Jarvis, 
 especially, was rude to both him and Jane, and it struck all 
 who witnessed it as a burst of jealous feeling for disappointed 
 hopes ; but to no one, excepting Mrs. Wilson, did it occur 
 that the conduct of the gentleman could be at all implicated 
 in the transaction. Mr. Benfield was happy to see under his 
 roof again the best of the trio of Jarvises he had known, and 
 
PRECAUTION. 23Y 
 
 something like sociability prevailed. There was to be a ball, 
 
 Miss Jarvis remarked, at L , the following day, which 
 
 would help to enliven the scene a little, especially as there 
 were a couple of frigates at anchor, a few miles off, and the 
 officers were expected to join the party. This intelligence 
 had but little effect on the ladies of the Moseley family ; yet, 
 as their uncle desired that, out of respect to his neighbors, if 
 invited, they would go, they cheerfully assented. During the 
 evening, Mrs. Wilson observed Egerton in familiar conversa 
 tion with Miss Jarvis ; and as she had been notified of his 
 situation with respect to Jane, she determined to watch nar 
 rowly into the causes of so singular a change of deportment 
 in the young lady. Mrs. Jarvis retained her respect for the 
 colonel in full force, and called out to him across the room, a 
 few minutes before she departed 
 
 " Well, colonel, I am happy to tell you I have heard very 
 lately from your uncle, Sir Edgar." 
 
 " Indeed, madam !" replied the colonel, starting. " Ho 
 was well, I hope." 
 
 " Very well, the day before yesterday. His neighbor, old 
 
 Mr. Holt, is a lodger in the same house with us at L ; 
 
 and as I thought you would like to hear, I made particular 
 inquiries about the baronet." The word baronet was pro 
 nounced with emphasis and a look of triumph, as if it would 
 Bay, you see we have baronets as well as you. As no answer 
 was made by Egerton, excepting an acknowledging bow, the 
 merchant and his family departed. 
 
 " Well, John," cried Emily, with a smile, " we have heard 
 more good to-day of our trusty and well-beloved cousin, the 
 Earl of Pendennyss." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed her brother. " You must keep 
 Emily for his lordship, positively, aunt : she is almost as great 
 an admirer of him as yourself." 
 
 
238 PREC A.UTION. 
 
 " I apprehend it is necessary she should be quite as much 
 so, to become his wife," said Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 " Really," said Emily, more gravely, " if all one hears of 
 him be true, or even half, it would be no difficult task to 
 admire him." 
 
 Denbigh was standing leaning on the back of a chair, in a 
 situation where he could view the animated countenance of 
 Emily as she spoke, and Mrs. Wilson noticed an uneasiness 
 and a changing of color in him that appeared uncommon 
 from so trifling a cause. Is it possible, she thought, Denbigh 
 can harbor so mean a passion as envy ? He walked away, 
 as if unwilling to hear more, and appeared much engrossed 
 with his own reflections for the remainder of the evening. 
 There were moments of doubting which crossed the mind of 
 Mrs. Wilson with a keenness of apprehension proportionate 
 to her deep interest in Emily, with respect to certain traits in 
 the character of Denbigh ; and this, what she thought a 
 display of unworthy feeling, was one of them. In the course 
 of the evening, the cards for the expected ball arrived, and 
 were accepted. As this new arrangement for the morrow 
 interfered with their intended visit to Mrs. Fitzgerald, a 
 servant was sent with a note of explanation in the morning 
 and a request that on the following day the promised com 
 munication might be made. To this arrangement the recluse 
 assented, and Emily prepared for the ball with a melancholy 
 recollection of the consequences which grew out of the last 
 she had attended melancholy at the fate of Digby, and 
 pleasure at the principles manifested by Denbigh, on the 
 occasion. The latter, however, with a smile, excused himself 
 from being of the party, telling Emily he was so awkward 
 that he feared some unpleasant consequences to himself or 
 his friends would arise from his inadvertencies, did he venture 
 again with her into such an assembly. 
 
PRECAUTION. 239 
 
 Emily sighed gently, as she entered the carriage of her aunt 
 early in the afternoon, leaving Denbigh in the door of the 
 lodge, and Egerton absent on the execution of some business ; 
 the former to amuse himself as he could until the following 
 morning, and the latter to join them in the dance in the 
 evening. 
 
 The arrangement included an excursion on the water, 
 attended by the bands from the frigates, a collation, and in 
 the evening a ball. One of the vessels was commanded by 
 a Lord Henry Stapleton, a fine young man, who, struck with 
 the beauty and appearance of the sisters, sought an intro 
 duction to the baronet s family, and engaged the hand of 
 Emily for the first dance. His frank and gentlemanlike de 
 portment was pleasing to his new acquaintances ; the more 
 so, as it was peculiarly suited to their situation at the moment. 
 Mrs. Wilson was in unusual spirits, and maintained an ani 
 mated conversation with the young sailor, in the course of 
 which, he spoke of his cruising on the coast of Spain, and by 
 accident he mentioned his having carried out to that country, 
 upon one occasion, Lord Pendennyss. This was common 
 ground between them, and Lord Henry was as enthusiastic 
 in his praises of the earl, as Mrs. Wilson s partiality could 
 desire. He also knew Colonel Egerton slightly, and ex 
 pressed his pleasure, in polite terms, when they met in the 
 evening in the ball-room, at being able to renew his acquaint 
 ance. The evening passed off as such evenings generally do 
 in gaiety, listlessness, dancing, gaping, and heartburnings, 
 according to the dispositions and good or ill fortune of the 
 several individuals who compose the assembly. Mrs. Wilson, 
 while her nieces were dancing, moved her seat to be near a 
 window, and found herself in the vicinity of two elderly gen 
 tlemen, who were commenting on the company. After 
 making several common-place remarks, one of them inquired 
 
240 PRECAUTION. 
 
 of the other "Who is that military gentleman amongst the 
 naval beaux, HoltV" 
 
 " That is the hopeful nephew of my friend and neighbor, 
 Sir Edgar Egerton ; he is here dancing, and misspending his 
 time and money, when I know Sir Edgar gave him a thou 
 sand pounds six months ago, on express condition, he should 
 not leave the regiment or take a card in his hand for a 
 twelvemonth." 
 
 " He plays, then ?" 
 
 " Sadly ; he is, on the whole, a very bad young man." 
 
 As they changed their topic, Mrs. Wilson joined her sister, 
 dreadfully shocked at this intimation of the vices of a man so 
 near an alliance with her brother s child. She was thankful 
 it was not too late to avert part of the evil, and determined 
 to acquaint Sir Edward, at once, with what she had heard, in 
 order that an investigation might establish the colonel s inno 
 cence or guilt. 
 
PRECAUTION. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THEY returned to the lodge at an early hour, and Mrs. 
 Wilson, after meditating upon the course she ought to take, 
 resolved to have a conversation with her brother that evening 
 after supper. Accordingly, as they were among the last to 
 retire, she mentioned her wish to detain him, and when left 
 by themselves, the baronet taking his seat by her on a sofa, 
 she commenced as follows, willing to avoid her unpleasant 
 information until the last moment. 
 
 " I wished to say something to you, brother, relating to my 
 charge : you have, no doubt, observed the attentions of Mr. 
 Denbigh to Emily ?" 
 
 " Certainly, sister, and with great pleasure ; you must not 
 suppose I wish to interfere with the authority I have so freely 
 relinquished to you, Charlotte, when I inquire if Emily favors 
 his views or not ?" 
 
 " Neither Emily nor I, my dear brother, wish ever to ques 
 tion your right, not only to inquire into, but to control the 
 conduct of your child ; she is yours, Edward, by a tie 
 nothing can break, and we both love you too much to wish it. 
 There is nothing you may be more certain of, than that, with 
 out the approbation of her parents, Emily would accept of no 
 offer, however splendid or agreeable to her own wishes." 
 
 " Nay, sister, I would not wish unduly to influence my 
 child in an affair of so much importance to herself; but 
 my interest in Denbigh is little short of that I feel for my 
 daughter." 
 
 " I trust," continued Mrs. Wilson, " Emily is too deeply 
 11 
 
242 PRECAUTION. 
 
 impressed with her duty to forget the impressive mandate, 
 4 to honor her father and mother : yes, Sir Edward, I am 
 mistaken if she would not relinquish the dearest object of her 
 affections, at your request ; and at the same time, I am per 
 suaded she would, under no circumstances, approach the altar 
 with a man she did not both love and esteem." 
 
 The baronet did not appear exactly to understand his sis 
 ter s distinction, as he observed, " I am not sure I rightly 
 comprehend the difference you make, Charlotte." 
 
 " Only, brother, that she would feel that a promise made at 
 the altar to love a man she felt averse to, or honor one she 
 could not esteem, as a breach of a duty, paramount to all 
 earthly considerations," replied his sister ; " but to answer 
 your question Denbigh has never offered, and when he does, 
 I do not think he will be refused." 
 
 tl Refused !" cried the baronet, " I sincerely hope not ; I 
 wish, with all my heart, they were married already." 
 
 " Emily is very young," said Mrs. Wilson, " and need not 
 hurry : .1 was in hopes she would remain single a few years 
 longer." 
 
 " Well," said the baronet, " you and Lady Moseley, sister, 
 have different notions on the subject of marrying the girls. " 
 
 Mrs. Wilson replied, with a good-humored smile, "you 
 have made Anne so good a husband, Ned, that she forgets 
 there are any bad ones in the world ; my greatest anxiety is, 
 that the husband of my niece may be a Christian ; indeed, I 
 know not how I can reconcile it to my conscience, as a Chris 
 tian myself, to omit this important qualification." 
 
 " I am sure, Charlotte, both Denbigh and Egerton appear 
 to have a great respect for religion ; they are punctual afc 
 church, and very attentive to the service:" Mrs. Wilson 
 smiled as he proceeded, " but religion may come after map 
 riag3, you know." 
 
PRECAUTION. 243 
 
 " Yes, brother, and I know it may not come at all ; no 
 really pious woman can be happy, without her husband is in 
 what she deems the road to future happiness himself; and it 
 is idle it is worse it is almost impious to marry with a view 
 to reform a husband : indeed, she greatly endangers her own 
 safety thereby ; for few of us, I believe, but find the tempta 
 tion to err as much as we can contend with, without calling 
 in the aid of example against us, in an object we love ; indeed 
 it appears to me, the life of such a woman must be a struggle 
 between conflicting duties." 
 
 " Why," said the baronet, " if your plan were generally 
 adopted, I am afraid it would give a deadly blow to matri 
 mony." 
 
 " I have nothing to do with generals, brother, I am acting 
 for individual happiness, and discharging individual duties : 
 at the same time I cannot agree with you in its effects on the 
 community. I think no man who dispassionately examines 
 the subject, will be other than a Christian ; and rather than 
 remain bachelors, they would take even that trouble ; if the 
 strife in our sex were less for a husband, wives would increase 
 in value." 
 
 " But how is it, Charlotte," said the baronet, pleasantly, 
 " your sex do not use your power and reform the age ?" 
 
 " The work of reformation, Sir Edward," replied his sister, 
 gravely, "is an arduous one indeed, and I despair of seeing it 
 general, in my day ; but much, very much, might be done 
 towards it, if those who have the guidance of youth would 
 take that trouble with their pupils that good faith requires of 
 them, to discharge the minor duties of life." 
 
 " Women ought to marry," observed the baronet, musing. 
 
 ** Marriage is certainly the natural and most desirable state 
 for a woman," but how few are there who, having entered it, 
 know how to discharge its duties ; more particularly those of 
 

 244 PRECAUTION. 
 
 a mother ! On the subject of marrying our daughters, for 
 instance, instead of qualifying them to make a proper choice, 
 they are generally left to pick up such principles and opinions 
 as they may come at, as it were by chance. It is true, if the 
 parent be a Christian in name, certain of the externals of reli 
 gion are observed ; but what are these, if not enforced by a 
 consistent example in the instructor ?" 
 
 " Useful precepts are seldom lost, I believe, sister," said 
 Sir Edward, with confidence. 
 
 " Always useful, my dear brother ; but young people are 
 more- observant than we are apt to imagine, and are wonder 
 fully ingenious in devising excuses to thenrslves for their 
 conduct. I have often heard it offered as an apology, that 
 father or mother knew it, or perhaps did it, and therefore it 
 could not be wrong : association is all-important to a child." 
 
 " I believe no family of consequence admits of improper 
 associates within my knowledge," said the baronet. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson smiled as she answered, " I am sure I hope 
 not, Edward ; but are the qualifications we require in com 
 panions for our daughters, always such as are most recon- 
 cileable with our good sense or our consciences ; a single com 
 munication with an objectionable character is a precedent, if 
 known and unobserved, which will be offered to excuse 
 acquaintances with worse persons : with the other sex, 
 especially, their acquaintance should be very guarded and 
 select." 
 
 " You would make many old maids, sister." 
 
 " I doubt it greatly, brother ; it would rather bring female 
 society in demand. I often regret that selfishness, cupidity, 
 and the kind of strife which prevails in our sex, on the road 
 to matrimony, have brought celibacy into disrepute. For my 
 part, I never see an old maid, but I am willing to think she 
 is so from choice or principle, and although not in her proper 
 
PRECAUTION. 245 
 
 place, serviceable, by keeping alive feelings necessary to 
 exist, that marriages may not become curses instead of 
 blessings." 
 
 "A kind of Eddystone, to prevent matrimonial ship 
 wrecks," said the brother, gayly. 
 
 " Their lot may be solitary, baronet, and in some measure 
 cheerless, but infinitely preferable to a marriage that may 
 lead them astray from their duties, or give birth to a family 
 which are to be turned on the world without any religion 
 but form without any morals but truisms or without even 
 a conscience which has not been seared by indulgence. I 
 hope that Anne, in the performance of her system, will have 
 no cause to regret its failure." 
 
 " Clara chose for herself, and has done well, Charlotte ; 
 and so, I doubt not, will Jane and Emily : and I confess I 
 think their mother is right." 
 
 " It is true," said Mrs. Wilson, " Clara has done well, 
 though under circumstances of but little risk ; she might have 
 jumped into your fish-pond, and escaped with life, but the 
 chances are she would drown : nor do I dispute the right of 
 the girls to choose for themselves ; but I say the rights extend 
 to requiring us to qualify them to make their choice. I am 
 sorry, Edward, to be the instigator of doubts in your breast 
 of the worth of any one, especially as it may give you pain." 
 Here Mrs. Wilson took her brother affectionately by the hand, 
 and communicated what she had overheard that evening. 
 Although the impressions of the baronet were not as vivid, or 
 as deep as those of his sister, his parental love was too great 
 not to make him extremely uneasy under the intelligence ; 
 and after thanking her for her attention to his children s wel 
 fare, he kissed her, and withdrew. In passing to his own 
 room, he met Egerton, that moment returned from escorting 
 the Jarvis ladies to their lodgings ; a task he had undertaken 
 
246 PRECAUTION. 
 
 at the request of Jane, as they were without any male attend 
 ant. Sir Edward s heart was too full not to seek immediate 
 relief,. and as he had strong hopes of the innocence of the 
 colonel, though he could give no reason for his expectation, 
 lie returned with him to the parlor, and in a few words 
 acquainted him with the slanders which had been circulated 
 at his expense ; begging him by all means to disprove them 
 as soon as possible. The colonel was struck with the cir 
 cumstance at first, but assured Sir Edward, it was entirely 
 untrue. He never played, as he might have noticed, and 
 that Mr. Holt was an ancient enemy of his. He would in 
 jhe morning take measures to convince Sir Edward, that he 
 stood higher in the estimation of his uncle, than Mr. Holt had 
 thought proper to state. Much relieved by this explanation, 
 the baronet, forgetting that this heavy charge removed, he 
 only stood where, he did before he took time for his inquiries, 
 assured him, that if he could convince him, or rather his sister, 
 he did not gamble, he would receive him as a son-in-law 
 with pleasure. The gentlemen shook hands and parted. 
 
 Denbigh had retired to his room early, telling Mr. Ben- 
 field he did not feel well, and thus missed the party at 
 supper ; and by twelve, silence prevailed in the house. 
 
 As usual after a previous day of pleasure, the party were 
 late in assembling on the following, yet Denbigh was the 
 last who made his appearance. Mrs. Wilson thought he 
 threw a look round the room as he entered, which prevented 
 his making his salutations in his usual easy and polished 
 manner. In a few minutes, however, his awkwardness was 
 removed, and they took their seats at the table. At that 
 moment the door of the room was thrown hastily open, and 
 Mr. Jarvis entered abruptly, and with a look bordering on 
 wildness in his eye " Is she not here ?" exclaimed the 
 merchant scanning the company closely. 
 
/-;-=-, .,.- 
 
 PRECAUTION. 247 
 
 " Who ?" inquired all in a breath. 
 
 " Polly my daughter my child," said the merchant, 
 endeavoring to control his feelings ; " did she not come here 
 this morning with Colonel Egerton ?" 
 
 He was answered in the negative, and he briefly explained 
 the cause of his anxiety. The colonel had called very early, 
 and sent her maid up to his daughter who rose immediately, 
 They had quitted the house together, leaving word the Miss 
 Moseleys had sent for the young lady to breakfast, for some 
 particular reason. Such was the latitude allowed by his 
 wife, that nothing was suspected until one of the servants of 
 the house said he had seen Colonel Egerton and a lady 
 drive out of the village that morning in a post-chaise and 
 four. 
 
 Then the old gentleman first took the alarm, and he 
 proceeded instantly to the lodge in quest of his daughter. 
 Of the elopement there now remained no doubt, and an exam 
 ination into the state of the colonel s room, who, it had been 
 thought, was not yet risen, gave assurance of it. Here was 
 at once sad confirmation that the opinion of Mr. Holt was a 
 just One. Although every heart felt for Jane during this 
 dreadful explanation, no eye was turned on her excepting 
 the stolen and anxious glances of her sister ; but when all 
 was confirmed, and nothing remained but to reflect or act 
 upon the circumstances, she naturally engrossed the whole 
 attention of her fond parents. Jane had listened in indig 
 nation to the commencement of the narrative of Mr. Jarvis, 
 and so firmly was Egerton enshrined in purity within her 
 imagination, that not until it was ascertained that both his 
 servant and clothes were missing, would she admit a 
 thought injurious to his truth. Then indeed the feelings of 
 Mr. Jarvis, his plain statement corroborated by this testimony, 
 struck her at once as true ; and as she rose to leave the 
 
1Mb PRECAUTION. 
 
 room, she fell senseless into the arms of Emily who observ 
 ing her movement and loss of color had flown to her assist 
 ance. Denbigh had drawn the merchant out in vain efforts 
 to appease him, and happily no one witnessed this effect of 
 Jane s passion but her nearest relatives. She was im 
 mediately removed to her own room, and in a short time 
 was in bed with a burning fever. The bursts of her grief 
 were uncontrolled and violent. At times she reproached 
 herself her friends Egerton ; in short, she was guilty of 
 all the inconsistent sensations that disappointed hopes, 
 accompanied by the consciousness of weakness on our part 
 seldom fail to give rise to ; the presence of her friends was 
 irksome to her, and it was only to the soft and insinuating 
 blandishments of Emily s love that she would at all yield. 
 Perseverance and affection at length prevailed, and as Emily 
 took the opportunity of some refreshments to infuse a strong 
 soporific, Jane lost her consciousness of misery in a tem 
 porary repose. In the mean time a more searching inquiry 
 had been able to trace out the manner and direction of the 
 journey of the fugitives. 
 
 It appeared the colonel left the lodge immediately after 
 his conversation with Sir Edward ; he slept at a tavern, and 
 caused his servant to remove his baggage at day-light ; 
 here he had ordered a chaise and horses, and then proceed 
 ed, as mentioned, to the lodgings of Mr. Jarvis. What 
 arguments he used with Miss Jarvis to urge her to so sudden 
 a flight, remained a secret ; but from the remarks of Mrs. 
 Jarvis and Miss Sarah, there was reason to believe that he 
 had induced them to think from the commencement, that 
 his intentions were single, and Mary Jarvis their object. 
 How he contrived to gloss over his attentions to Jane in 
 cuicli a manner as to deceive those ladies, caused no little 
 surprise ; but it was obvious it had been done, and the 
 
PRECAUTION. 249 
 
 Moseleys were not without hopes his situation with Jane 
 would not make the noise in the world such occurrences 
 seldom fail to excite. In the afternoon a letter was handed 
 to Mr. Jarvis, and by him immediately communicated to the 
 baronet and Denbigh, both of whom he considered as among 
 his best friends. It was from Egerton, and written in a 
 respectful manner : he apologized for his elopement, and 
 excused it on the ground of a wish to avoid the delay of a 
 license or the publishing of bans, as he was in hourly expecta 
 tion of a summons to his regiment, and contained many 
 promises of making an attentive husband, and an affection 
 ate son. The fugitives were on the road to Scotland, 
 whence they intended immediately to return to London and 
 to wait the commands of their parents. The baronet in a 
 voice trembling with emotion at the sufferings of his own 
 child, congratulated the merchant that things were no worse ; 
 while Denbigh curled his lips as he read the epistle, and 
 thought settlements were a greater inconvenience than the 
 bans for it was a well known fact, a maiden aunt had left 
 the Jarvises twenty thousand pounds between them. 
 
 11* 
 
250 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the affections of Jane had sustained a hea ry 
 blow, her pride had received a greater, and no persuasiens 
 of her mother or sister could induce her to leave her room. 
 She talked little, but once or twice she yielded to the affec 
 tionate attentions of Emily, and poured out her sorrows into 
 the bosom of her sister. At such moments she would declare 
 her intention of never appearing* in the world again. One of 
 these paroxysms of sorrow was witnessed by her mother, 
 and, for the first time, self-reproach mingled in the grief of 
 the matron. Had she trusted less to appearances and to the 
 opinions of indifferent and ill-judging acquaintances, her 
 daughter might have been apprized in season of the charac 
 ter of the man who had stolen her affections. To a direct 
 exhibition of misery Lady Moseley was always sensible, and, 
 for the moment, she became alive to its causes and conse 
 quences ; but a timely and judicious safeguard against future 
 moral evils was a forecast neither her inactivity of mind nor 
 abilities were equal to. 
 
 We shall leave Jane to brood over her lover s misconduct, 
 while we regret she is without the consolation alone able to 
 
PRECAUTION. 25 * 
 
 bear her up against the misfortunes of life, and return to th 
 other personages of our history. 
 
 The visit to Mrs. Fitzgerald had been postponed in con 
 sequence of Jane s indisposition; but a week after the 
 colonel s departure, Mrs. Wilson thought, as Jane had con 
 sented to leave her room, and Emily really began to look 
 pale from her confinement by the side of a sick bed, she 
 would redeem the pledge she had given the recluse on the 
 following morning. They found the ladies at the cottage 
 happy to see them, and anxious to hear of the health of Jane, 
 of whose illness they had been informed by note. After 
 offering her guests some refreshments, Mrs. Fitzgerald, who 
 appeared laboring under a greater melancholy than usual, 
 proceeded to make them acquainted with the incidents of her 
 life. 
 
 The daughter of an English merchant at Lisbon had fled 
 from the house of her father to the protection of an Irish 
 officer in the service of his Catholic Majesty : they were 
 united, and the colonel immediately took his bride to Madrid. 
 The offspring of this union were a son and daughter. The 
 former, at an early age, had entered into the service of his 
 king, and had, as usual, been bred in the faith of his ances 
 tors ; but the Senora McCarthy had been educated, and yet 
 remained a Protestant, and, contrary to her faith to her hus 
 band, secretly instructed her daughter in the same belief. 
 At the age of seventeen, a principal grandee of the court of 
 Charles sought the hand of the general s child. The Conde 
 d Alzada was a match not to be refused, and they were 
 united in the heartless and formal manner in which marriages 
 are too often entered into, in countries where the customs of 
 seciety prevent an intercourse between the sexes. The Conde 
 never possessed the affections of his wife. Of a stern and 
 unyielding disposition, his harshness repelled her love ; and 
 
252 PRECAUTION. 
 
 as she naturally turned her eyes to the home of her child 
 hood, she cherished all those peculiar sentiments she had 
 imbibed from her mother. Thus, although she appeared to 
 the world a Catholic, she lired in secret a Protestant. Her 
 parents had always used the English language in their family, 
 and she spoke it as fluently as the Spanish. To encourage 
 her recollections of this strong feature, which distinguished 
 the house of her father from the others she entered, she 
 perused closely and constantly those books which the death 
 of her mother placed at her disposal. These were princi 
 pally Protestant works on religious subjects, and the countess 
 became a strong sectarian, without becoming a Christian. 
 As she was compelled to use the same books in teaching her 
 only child, the Donna Julia, English, the consequences of the 
 original false step of her grandmother were perpetuated in 
 the person of this young lady. In learning English, she also 
 learned to secede from the faith of her father, and entailed 
 upon herself a life of either persecution or hypocrisy. The 
 countess was guilty of the unpardonable error of complaining 
 to their child of the treatment she received from her husband ; 
 and as these conversations were held in English, and were 
 consecrated by the tears of the mother, they made an indelible 
 impression on the youthful mind of Julia, who grew up with 
 the conviction that next to being a Catholic herself, the 
 greatest evil of life was to be the wife of one. 
 
 On her attaining her fifteenth year, she had the misfortune 
 (if it could be termed one) to lose her mother, and within the 
 year her father presented to her a nobleman of the vicinity 
 as her future husband. How long the religious faith of Julia 
 would have endured, unsupported by example in others, and 
 assailed by the passions soliciting in behalf of a young and 
 handsome cavalier, it might be difficult to pronounce ; but as 
 her suitor was neither very young, and the reverse of very 
 
PRECAUTION. . 253 
 
 handsome, it is certain the more he wooed, the more con- 
 6rmcd she became in her heresy, until, in a moment of 
 desperation, and as an only refuge against his solicitations, 
 she candidly avowed her creed. The anger of her father was 
 violent and lasting : she was doomed to a convent, as both a 
 penance for her sins and a means of reformation. Physical 
 resistance was not in her power, but mentally she determined 
 never to yield. Her body was immured, but her mind con 
 tinued unshaken and rather more settled in her belief, by the 
 aid of those passions which had been excited by injudicious 
 harshness. For two years she continued in her novitiate, 
 obstinately refusing to take the vows of the order, and at the 
 end of that period the situation of her country had called her 
 father and uncle to the field as defenders of the rights of 
 their lawful prince. Perhaps to this it was owing that 
 harsher measures were not adopted in her case. 
 
 The war now raged around them in its greatest horrors, 
 until at length a general battle was fought in the neighbor 
 hood, and the dormitories of the peaceful nuns were crowded 
 with wounded British officers. Amongst others of his nation 
 was a Major Fitzgerald, a young man of strikingly handsome 
 countenance and pleasant manners. Chance threw him under 
 the more immediate charge of Julia : his recovery was slow, 
 and for a time doubtful, and as much owing to good nursing 
 as science. The major was grateful, and Julia unhappy as 
 she was beautiful. That love should be the offspring of this 
 association, will excite no surprise. A brigade of British 
 encamping in the vicinity of the convent, the young couple 
 sought its protection from Spanish vengeance and Romish 
 cruelty. They were married by the chaplain of the brigade, 
 and for a month they were happy, 
 
 As Napoleon was daily expected in person at the seat of 
 war, his generals were alive to their own interests, if not to 
 
254 PRECAUTION. 
 
 that of their master. The body of troops in which Fitzgerald 
 had sought a refuge, being an advanced party of the main 
 army, were surprised and defeated with loss. After doing 
 his duty as a soldier at his post, the major, in endeavoring to 
 secure the retreat of Julia, was intercepted, and they both fell 
 into the hands of the enemy. They were kindly treated, and 
 allowed every indulgence their situation admitted, until a small 
 escort of prisoners was sent to the frontiers ; in this they 
 were included, and had proceeded to the neighborhood of 
 the Pyrenees, when, in their turn, the French were assailed 
 suddenly, and entirely routed ; and the captive Spaniards, of 
 which the party, with the exception of our youHg couple, 
 consisted, released. As the French guard made a resistance 
 until overpowered by numbers, an unfortunate ball struck 
 Major Fitzgerald to the earth he survived but an hour, and 
 died where he fell, on the open field. An English officer, the 
 last of his retiring countrymen, was attracted by the sight of 
 a woman weeping over the body of a fallen man, and ap. 
 proached them. In a few words Fitzgerald explained his 
 situation to this gentleman, and exacted a pledge from him 
 to guard his Julia, in safety, to his mother in England. 
 
 The stranger promised everything the dying husband 
 required, and by the time death had closed the eyes of Fitz 
 gerald, he had procured from some peasants a rude convey 
 ance, into which the body, with its almost equally lifeless 
 widow, were placed. The party which intercepted the con 
 voy of prisoners, had been out from the British camp on other 
 duty, but its commander hearing of the escort, had pushed 
 rapidly into a country covered by the enemy to effect their 
 rescue ; and his service done, he was compelled to make a 
 hasty retreat to ensure his own security. To this was owing 
 the indifference, which left the major to the care of the Spa 
 nish peasantry who had gathered to the spot, and the retreat* 
 
PRECAUTION. 255 
 
 ing troops had got several miles on their return, before the 
 widow and her protector commenced their journey. It was 
 impossible to overtake them, and the inhabitants acquainting 
 the gentleman that a body of French dragoons were already 
 harassing their rear, he was compelled to seek another route 
 to the camp. This, with some trouble and no little danger, 
 he at last effected ; and the day following the skirmish, Julia 
 found herself lodged in a retired Spanish dwelling, several 
 miles within the advanced posts of the British army. The 
 body of her husband was respectfully interred, and Julia was 
 left to mourn her irretrievable loss, uninterrupted by anything 
 but by the hasty visits of the officer in whose care she had 
 been left visits which he stole from his more important 
 duties as a soldier. 
 
 A month glided by in this melancholy manner, leaving to 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald the only consolation she would receive her 
 incessant visits to the grave of her husband. The catLf^f her 
 protector, however, became more frequent ; and at length he 
 announced his intended departure for Lisbon, on his way to 
 England. A small covered vehicle, drawn by one horse, was 
 to convey them to the city, at which place he promised to 
 procure her a female attendant, and necessaries for the voyage 
 home. It was no time or place for delicate punctilio ; and 
 Julia quietly, but with a heart nearly, broken, prepared to 
 submit to the wishes of her late husband. After leaving the 
 dwelling, the manners of her guide sensibly altered ; he 
 became complimentary and assiduous to please, but in a way 
 rather to offend than conciliate ; until his attentions became 
 so irksome, that Julia actually meditated stopping at some 
 of the villages through which they passed, and abandoning 
 the attempt of visiting England entirely. But the desire to 
 comply with Fitzgerald s wish, that she would console his 
 mother for the loss of an only child, and the dread of the 
 
 
256 PRECAUTION. 
 
 anger of her relatives, determined her to persevere until they 
 reached Lisbon, where she was resolved to separate for ever 
 from the disagreeable and unknown guardian into whose 
 Keeping she had been thrown by chance. 
 
 The last day of their weary ride, while passing a wood, the 
 officer so far forgot his own character and Julia s misfor 
 tunes, as to offer personal indignities. Grown desperate from 
 her situation, Mrs. Fitzgerald sprang from the vehicle, and 
 by her cries attracted the notice of an officer who was riding 
 express on the same road with themselves. He advanced to 
 her assistance at speed, but as he arrived near them, a pistol 
 fired from the carriage brought his horse down, and the 
 treacherous friend was enabled to escape undetected. Julia 
 endeavored to explain her situation to her rescuer ; and by 
 her distress and appearance, satisfied him at once of its truth. 
 Within a short time, a strong escort of light dragoons came 
 up, anfl. the officer despatched some for a conveyance, and 
 others in pursuit of that disgrace to the army, the villanous 
 guide : the former was soon obtained, but no tidings could 
 be had of the latter. The carriage was found at a short dis 
 tance, without the horse and with the baggage of Julia, but 
 with no vestige of its owner. She never knew his name, and 
 either accident or art had so completely enveloped him in 
 mystery, that all efforts to unfold it then were fruitless, and 
 had continued so ever since. 
 
 On their arrival in Lisbon, every attention was shown to 
 the disconsolate widow the most refined delicacy could dic 
 tate, and every comfort and respect were procured for her, 
 which the princely fortune, high rank, and higher character 
 of the Earl of Pendennyss, could command. It was this noble 
 man, who, on his way from head-quarters with despatches 
 for England, had been the means of preserving Julia from a 
 fate worse than death. A packet was in waiting for the 
 
PRECAUTION. 257 
 
 earl, and they proceeded in her for home. The Donna Lo- 
 renza was the widow of a subaltern Spanish officer, who had 
 fallen under the orders and near Pendennyss, and the interest 
 he took in her brave husband had induced him to offer her, 
 in the destruction of her little fortune by the enemy, his pro 
 tection : for near two years he had maintained her at Lisbon, 
 and now, judging her a proper person, had persuaded her to 
 accompany Mrs* Fitzgerald to England. 
 
 On the passage, which was very tedious, the earl became 
 more intimately acquainted with the history and character 
 of his young friend, and by a course of gentle yet powerful 
 expedients had drawn her mind gradually from its gloomy 
 contemplation of futurity, to a juster sense of good and evil 
 The peculiarity of her religious persuasion afforded an intro 
 duction to frequent discussions of the real opinions of that 
 church, to which Julia had hitherto belonged, although igno 
 rant of all its essential and vital truths. These conversations, 
 which were renewed repeatedly in their intercourse while 
 under the protection of his sister in London, laid the founda 
 tions of a faith which left her nothing to hope for but the 
 happy termination of her earthly probation. 
 
 The mother of Fitzgerald was dead, and as he had no near 
 relative left, Julia found herself alone in the world. Her 
 husband had taken the precaution to make a will in season 
 it was properly authenticated, and his widow, by the powerful 
 assistance of Pendennyss, was put in quiet possession of a 
 little independency. It was while waiting the decision of 
 this affair that Mrs. Fitzgerald resided for a short time near 
 Bath. As soon as it was terminated, the earl and his sister 
 had seen her settled in her present abode, and once since had 
 they visited her ; but delicacy had kept him away from the 
 cottage, although his attempts to serve her had been constant, 
 though not always successful. He had, on his return to 
 
258 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Spain, seen her father, and interceded with him on her 
 behalf, but in vain. The anger of the Spaniard remained 
 unappeased, and for a season he did not renew his efforts; 
 out having heard that her father was indisposed, Julia had 
 employed the earl once more to make her pea/se with him, 
 without prevailing. The letter the ladies had found her 
 weeping over was from Pendennyss, informing her of his 
 want of success on that occasion. 
 
 The substance of the foregoing narrative was related by 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald to Mrs. Wilson, who repeated it to Emily in 
 their ride home. The compassion of both ladies was strongly 
 moved in behalf of the young widow ; yet Mrs. Wilson did 
 not fail to point out to her niece the consequences of decep 
 tion, and chiefly the misery which had followed from an 
 abandonment of some of the primary duties of life obedience 
 and respect to her parent. Emily, though keenly alive to 
 all the principles inculcated by her aunt, found so much to 
 be pitied in the fate of her friend, that her failings lost their 
 proper appearance in her eyes, and for a while she could 
 think of nothing but Julia and her misfortunes. Previously 
 to their leaving the cottage, Mrs. Fitzgerald, with glowing 
 cheeks and some hesitation, informed Mrs. Wilson she had 
 yet another important communication to make, but would 
 postpone it until her next visit, which Mrs. Wilson promised 
 should be on the succeeding day. 
 
PRECAUTION 259 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 EMILY threw a look of pleasure on Denbigh, as he handed 
 her from the carriage, which would have said, if looks could 
 talk, " In the principles you have displayed on more than 
 one occasion, I have a pledge of your worth." As he led 
 her into the house, he laughingly informed her that he had 
 that morning received a letter which would make his absence 
 
 from L necessary for a short time, and that he must 
 
 remonstrate against these long and repeated visits to a cottage 
 where all attendants of the male sex were excluded, as they 
 encroached greatly on his pleasures and improvements, 
 bowing, as he spoke, to Mrs. Wilson. To this Emily replied, 
 gaily, that possibly, if he conducted himself to their satisfac 
 tion, they would intercede for his admission. Expressing his 
 pleasure at this promise, as Mrs. Wilson thought rather 
 awkwardly, Denbigh changed the conversation. At dinner 
 he repeated to the family what he had mentioned to Emily 
 of his departure, and also his expectation of meeting with 
 Lord Chatterton during nis journey. 
 
 u Have yon heard from Chatterton lately, John ?" inquired 
 Sir Edward Moseley. 
 
 " Yes, sir, to-day : he had left Denbigh Castle a fortnight 
 since, and writes he is to meet his friend, the duke, at Bath." 
 
 " Are you connected with his grace, Mr. Denbigh ?" asked 
 Lady Moseley. 
 
 A smile of indefinite meaning played on the expressive face 
 of Denbigh, as he answered slightly 
 
 " On the side of my father, madam." 
 
200 PRECAUTION. 
 
 "He has a sister," continued Lady Moseley, willing to 
 know more of Chatterton s friends and Denbigh s relatives. 
 
 " He has," was the brief reply. 
 
 " Her name is Harriet," observed Mrs. "Wilson. Denbigh 
 bowed his assent in silence, and Emily timidly added 
 
 " Lady Harriet Denbigh ?" 
 
 " Lady Harriet Denbigh will you do me the favor to take 
 wine ?" 
 
 The manner of the gentleman during this dialogue had not 
 been in the least unpleasant, but it was peculiar; it pro 
 hibited anything further on the subject; and Emily was 
 obliged to be content without knowing who Marian was, or 
 whether her name was to be found in the Denbigh family or 
 not. Emily was not in the least jealous, but she wished to 
 know all to whom her lover was dear. 
 
 " Do the Dowager and the young ladies accompany Chat- 
 terton ?" asked Sir Edward, as he turned to John, who was 
 eating his fruit in silence. 
 
 " Yes, sir I hope that is, I believe she will," was the 
 answer. 
 
 " She ! Who is she, my son ?" 
 
 " Grace Chatterton," said John, starting from his medita 
 tions. " Did you not ask me about Grace, Sir Edward ?" 
 
 " Not particularly, I believe," said the baronet, dryly. 
 
 Denbigh again smiled : it was a smile different from any 
 Mrs. Wilson had ever seen on his countenance, and gave an 
 entirely novel expression to his face ; it was full of meaning, 
 it was knowing spoke more of the man of the world than 
 anything she had before noticed in him, and left on her mind 
 one of those vague impressions she was often troubled with, 
 that there was something about Denbigh in character or 
 rendition, or both, that was mysterious. 
 
 The spirit of Jane was too great to leave her a pining or 
 
PRECAUTION. 261 
 
 pensive maiden ; yet her feelings had sustained a shock that 
 time alone could cure. She appeared again amongst her 
 friends ; but the consciousness of her expectations with re 
 spect to the colonel being known to them, threw around her 
 a hauteur and distance very foreign to her natural manner. 
 Emily alone, whose every movement sprang from the 
 spontaneous feelings of her heart, and whose words and 
 actions were influenced by the finest and most affectionate 
 delicacy, such as she was not conscious of possessing herself, 
 won upon the better feelings of her sister so far, as to restore 
 between them the usual exchange of kindness and sympathy, 
 But Jane admitted no confidence ; she found nothing con 
 soling, nothing solid, to justify her attachment to Egerton ; 
 nothing indeed, excepting such external advantages as she 
 was now ashamed to admit had ever the power over her 
 they in reality had possessed. The marriage of the fugi 
 tives in Scotland had been announced ; and as the impression 
 that Egerton w r as to be connected with the Moseleys was 
 destroyed of course, their every-day acquaintances, feeling 
 the restraints removed that such an opinion had once im 
 posed, were free in their comments on his character. Sir 
 Edsvard and Lady Moseley were astonished to find how 
 many things to his disadvantage were generally known ; 
 that he gambled intrigued and was in debt were no 
 secrets apparently to anybody, but to those who were most 
 interested in knowing the truth ; while Mrs. Wilson saw in 
 these facts additional reasons for examining and judging for 
 ourselves ; the world uniformly concealing from the party 
 and his friends their honest opinions of his character. Some 
 of these insinuations reached the ears of Jane : her aunt 
 having rightly judged^ that the surest way to destroy 
 Egerton s power over the imagination of her niece was to 
 strip him of his fictitious qualities, suggested this expedient 
 
262 PRECAUTION. 
 
 to Lady Moseley ; and some of their visitors had thought, 
 as the colonel had certainly been attentive to Miss Moseley, 
 it would give her pleasure to know that her rival had not 
 made the most eligible match in the kingdom. The 
 project of Mrs. Wilson succeeded in a great measure ; 
 but although Egerton fell, Jane did not find she rose in 
 her own estimation ; and her friends wisely concluded that 
 time was the only remedy that could restore her former 
 serenity. 
 
 In the morning, Mrs. Wilson, unwilling to have Emily 
 present at a conversation she intended to hold with Denbigh, 
 with a view to satisfy her annoying doubts as to some minor 
 points in his character, after excusing herself to her niece, 
 invited that gentleman to a morning drive. He accepted 
 her invitation cheerfully ; and Mrs. Wilson saw, it was only 
 as they drove from the door without Emily, that he betrayed 
 the faintest reluctance to the jaunt. When they had got a 
 short distance from the lodge she acquainted him with her 
 intention of presenting him to Mrs. Fitzgerald, whither she 
 had ordered the coachman to proceed. Denbigh started as 
 she mentioned the name, and after a few moments silence, 
 desired Mrs. Wilson to allow him to stop the carriage ; he 
 was not very well was sorry to be so rude but with her 
 permission, he would alight and return to the house. As 
 he requested in an earnest manner that she would proceed 
 without him, and by no means disappoint her friend, Mrs. 
 Wilson complied ; yet, somewhat at a loss to account for his 
 sudden illness, she turned her head to see how the sick man 
 fared, a short time after he had left her, and was not a little 
 surprised to see him talking very composedly with John^ 
 who had met him on his way to the fields with his gun. 
 Lovesick thought Mrs. Wilson with a smile ; and as sh) 
 rode on she came to the conclusion, that as Denbigh was tc 
 
PRECAUTION. 263 
 
 leave them soon, Emily would have an important communi 
 cation to make on her return. 
 
 " Well," thought Mrs. Wilson with a sigh, " if it is to 
 happen, it may as well be done at once." 
 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald was expecting her, and appeared rather 
 pleased than otherwise that she had come alone. After 
 some introductory conversation, the ladies withdrew by 
 themselves, and Julia acquainted Mrs. Wilson with a new 
 source of uneasiness. The day the ladies had promised to 
 visit her, but had been prevented by the arrangements for 
 the ball, the Donna Lorenza had driven to the village to 
 make some purchases, attended as usual by their only man 
 servant, and Mrs. Fitzgerald was sitting in the little parlor 
 in momentary expectation of her friends by herself. The 
 sound of footsteps drew her to the door, which she opened 
 for the admission of the wretch whose treachery to her 
 dying husband s requests had given her so much uneasiness. 
 Horror fear surprise altogether, prevented her froin 
 making any alarm at the moment, and she sank into a 
 chair. He stood between her and the door, as he endeavor 
 ed to draw her into a conversation ; he assured her she had 
 nothing to fear ; that he loved her, and her alone ; that he 
 was about to be married to a daughter of Sir Edward 
 Moseley, but would give her up, fortune, everything, if she 
 would consent to become his wife that the views of her 
 protector, he doubted not, were dishonorable that he 
 himself was willing to atone for his former excess of passion, 
 by a life devoted to her. 
 
 How much longer he would have gone on, and what 
 further he would have offered, is unknown ; for Mrs. 
 Fitzgerald, having recovered herself a little, darted to 
 the bell on the other side of the room ; ne tried to pre 
 vent her ringing it, but was too late ; a short struggle 
 
2G4 
 
 PRECAUTION. 
 
 followed, when the sound of the footsteps of the maid 
 compelled him to retreat precipitately. Mrs. Fitzgerald 
 added, that his assertion concerning Miss Moseley had 
 given her incredible uneasiness, and prevented her making 
 the communication yesterday; but she understood this 
 morning through her maid, that a Colonel Egerton, who had 
 been supposed to be engaged to one of Sir Edward s 
 daughters, had eloped with another lady. That Egerton 
 was her persecutor, she did not now entertain a doubt ; 
 but that it was in the power of Mrs. Wilson probably to 
 make the discovery, as in the struggle between them for 
 the bell, a pocket-book had fallen from the breast-pocket of 
 his coat, and his retreat was too sudden to recover it. 
 
 As she put the book into the hands of Mrs. Wilson, she 
 desired she would take means to return it to its owner ; its 
 contents might be of value, though she had not thought it 
 correct to examine it. Mrs. Wilson took the book, and as 
 she dropped it into her work-bag, smiled at the Spanish 
 punctilio of her friend in not looking into her prize under 
 the peculiar circumstances. 
 
 A few questions as to the place and year of his first 
 attempts, soon convinced her it was Egerton whose un 
 licensed passions had given so much trouble to Mrs. Fitz 
 gerald. He had served but one campaign in Spain, and in 
 that year, and that division of the army ; and surely his 
 principles were no restraint upon his conduct. Mrs. 
 Fitzgerald begged the advice of her more experienced friend 
 as to the steps she ought to take; to which the former 
 asked if she had made Lord Pendennyss acquainted with 
 the occurrence. The young widow s cheek glowed as she 
 answered, that, at the same time she felt assured the base 
 insinuation of Egerton was unfounded, it had created a re 
 pugnance in her to troubling the earl any more than was 
 
PRECAUTION. 265 
 
 necessary in her affairs ; and as she kissed the hand of Mrs. 
 Wilson, she added " besides, your goodness, my dear 
 madam, renders any other adviser unnecessary now." Mrs. 
 Wilson pressed her hand affectionately, and assured her of 
 her good wishes and unaltered esteem. She commended 
 her delicacy, and plainly told the young widow, that how 
 ever unexceptionable the character of Pendennyss might be, 
 a female friend was the only one a woman in her situation 
 could repose confidence in, without justly incurring the 
 sarcasms of the world. 
 
 As Egerton was now married, and would not probably offer, 
 for the present at least, any further molestation to Mrs. Fitz 
 gerald, it was concluded to be unnecessary to take any imme 
 diate measures of precaution ; and Mrs. Wilson thought the 
 purse of Mr. Jarvis might be made the means of keeping him 
 within proper bounds in future. The merchant was prompt, 
 and not easily intimidated ; and the slightest intimation of the 
 truth would, she knew, be sufficient to engage him on their 
 side, heart and hand. 
 
 The ladies parted, with a promise of meeting soon again, 
 and an additional interest in each other by the communica 
 tions of that and the preceding day. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson had ridden half the distance between the cot 
 tage and the lodge, before it occurred to her they had not 
 absolutely ascertained, by the best means in their possession, 
 the identity of Colonel Egerton with Julia s persecutor. She 
 accordingly took the pocket-book from her bag, and opened 
 it for examination : a couple of letters fell from it into her 
 lap, and conceiving then* direction would establish all she 
 wished to know, as they had been read, she turned to the 
 superscription of one of them, and saw " George Denbigh, 
 Esq." in the well known hand-writing of Dr. Ives. Mrs. 
 Wilson felt herself overcome to a degree that compelled her 
 12 
 
266 PRECAUTION. 
 
 to lower a glass of the carriage for air. She sat gazing on 
 the letters until the characters swam before her eyes in undis 
 tinguished confusion; and with difficulty she rallied her 
 thoughts to the point necessary for investigation. As soon 
 as she found herself equal to the task, she examined the let 
 ters with the closest scrutiny, and opened them both to be 
 sure there was no mistake. She saw the dates, the " dear 
 George" at the commencements, and the doctor s name sub 
 scribed, before she would believe they were real ; it was then 
 the truth appeared to break upon her in a flood of light. The 
 aversion of Denbigh to speak of Spain, or of his services in 
 that country his avoiding Sir Herbert Nicholson, and thai 
 gentleman s observations respecting him Colonel Egerton a 
 and his own manners his absence from the ball, and start 
 ling looks on the following morning, and at different times 
 before and since his displeasure at the name of Pendennyss 
 on various occasions and his cheerful acceptance of her 
 invitation to ride until he knew her destination, and singu 
 lar manner of leaving her were all accounted for by this 
 dreadful discovery, and Mrs. Wilson found the solution of her 
 doubts rushing on her mind with a force and rapidity that 
 sickened her. 
 
 The misfortunes of Mrs. Fitzgerald, the unfortunate issue 
 to the passion of Jane, were trifles in the estimation of Mrs. 
 Wilson, compared to the discovery of Denbigh s unworthi- 
 ness. She revolved in her mind his conduct on various occa 
 sions, and wondered how one who could behave so well in 
 common, could thus yield to temptation on a particular occa 
 sion. His recent attempts, his hypocrisy, however, proved 
 that his villany was systematic, and she was not weak enough 
 to hide from herself the evidence of his guilt, or of its enor 
 mity. His interposition between Emily and death, she attri 
 buted now to natural courage, and perhaps in some measure 
 
PRECAUTION. 2G7 
 
 to chance; but his profound and unvarying reverence fof 
 holy things, his consistent chanty, his refusing to fight, to 
 what were they owing ? And Mrs. Wilson mourned the 
 weakness of human nature, while she acknowledged to her 
 self, there might fee men, qualified by nature, and even dis 
 posed by reason and grace, to prove ornaments to religion 
 and the world, who fell beneath the maddening influence of 
 their besetting sins. The superficial and interested vices of 
 Egerton vanished before these awful and deeply seated 
 offences of Denbigh, and the correct widow saw at a glance, 
 that he was the last man to be intrusted with the happiness 
 of her niece ; but how to break this heartrending discovery 
 to Emily was a new source of uneasiness to her, and the car 
 riage stopped at the door of the lodge, ere she had deter 
 mined on the first step required of her by duty. 
 
 Her brother handed her out, and, filled with the dread tha* 
 Denbigh had availed himself of the opportunity of her ab 
 sence to press his suit with Emily, she eagerly inquired after 
 him. She was rejoiced to hear he had returned with John 
 for a fowling-piece, and together they had gone in pursuit of 
 game, although she saw in it a convincing proof that a desire 
 to avoid Mrs. Fitzgerald, and not indisposition, had induced 
 him to leave her. As a last alternative, she resolved to have 
 the pocket-book returned to him in her presence, hi order to 
 see if he acknowledged it to be his property ; and, accord 
 ingly, she instructed her own man to hand it to him while a* 
 dinner, simply saying he had lost it. 
 
 The open and unsuspecting air with which her niece met 
 Denbigh on his return gave Mrs. Wilson an additional shock, 
 and she could hardly command herself sufficiently to extend 
 the common courtesies of good breeding to Mr. Benfield s 
 guest. 
 
 While sitting at the dessert, her servant handed the pocket* 
 
268 PRECAUTION. 
 
 book, as directed by his mistress, to its owner, saying, " Your 
 pocket-book, I believe, Mr. Denbigh." Denbigh took the 
 book, and held it in his hand for a moment in surprise, and 
 then fixed his eye keenly on the man, as he inquired where 
 he found it, and how he knew it was his. These were inter 
 rogatories Francis was not prepared to answer, and in his con 
 fusion he naturally turned his eyes on his mistress. Denbigh 
 followed their direction with his own, and in encountering the 
 looks of the lady, he asked in a stammering manner, and with 
 a face of scarlet, 
 
 " Am I indebted to you, madam, for my property ?" 
 " No, sir ; it was given me by one who found it, to restore 
 to you," said Mrs. Wilson, gravely, and the subject was dropped, 
 both appearing willing to say no more. Yet Denbigh was 
 abstracted and absent during the remainder of the repast, and 
 Emily spoke to him once or twice without obtaining an 
 answer. Mrs. Wilson caught his eye several times fixed on 
 her with an inquiring and doubtful expression, that convinced 
 her he was alarmed. If any confirmation of his guilt had 
 been wanting, the consciousness he betrayed during this scene 
 afforded it ; and she set seriously about considering the short 
 est and best method of interrupting his intercourse with 
 Emily, before he had drawn from her an acknowledgment 
 of her love. 
 
PRECAUTION. 2 69 
 
 CHAPTEE XXYHI 
 
 ON withdrawing to her dressing-room after dinner, Mrs. 
 Wilson commenced the disagreeable duty of removing the 
 veil from the eyes of her niece, by recounting to her the 
 substance of Mrs. Fitzgerald s last communication. To the 
 innocence of Emily such persecution could excite no other 
 sensations than surprise and horror ; and as her aunt omitted 
 the part concerning the daughter of Sir Edward Moseley, she 
 naturally expressed her wonder as to who the wretch could 
 be. 
 
 " Possibly, aunt," she said with an involuntary shudder, 
 " some of the many gentlemen we have lately seen, and one 
 who has had art enough to conceal his real character from 
 the world." 
 
 " Concealment, my love," replied Mrs. Wilson, " would be 
 hardly necessary. Such is the fashionable laxity of morals, 
 that I doubt not many of his associates would laugh at his 
 misconduct, and that he would still continue to pass with the 
 world as an honorable man." 
 
 " And ready," cried her niece, " to sacrifice human life, in 
 the defence of any ridiculous punctilio." 
 
 * Or," added Mrs. Wilson, striving to draw nearer to her 
 subject, " with a closer veil of hypocrisy, wear even an affec 
 tation of principle and moral feeling that would seem to 
 forbid such a departure from duty in favor of custom." 
 
 "Oh! no, dear aunt," exclaimed Emily, with glowing 
 cheeks and eyes dancing with pleasure, " he would hardly 
 dare to be so very base. It would be profanity." 
 
270 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson sighed heavily as she witnessed that confiding 
 esteem which would not permit her niece even to suspect that 
 an act which in Denbigh had been so warmly applauded, 
 could, even in another, proceed from unworthy motives ; and 
 she found it would be necessary to speak in the plainest 
 terms, to awaken her suspicions. Willing, however, to come 
 gradually to the distressing truth, she replied 
 
 " And yet, my dear, men who pride themselves greatly on 
 their morals, nay, even some who wear the mask of religion, 
 and perhaps deceive themselves, admit and practise this very 
 appeal to arms. Such inconsistencies are by no means 
 uncommon. And why, then, might there not, with equal 
 probability, be others who would revolt at murder, and yet 
 not hesitate being guilty of lesser enormities ? This is, in 
 some measure, the case of every man ; and it is only to con- 
 eider killing in unlawful encounters as murder, to make it one 
 in point." 
 
 " Hypocrisy is so mean a vice, I should not think a brave 
 man could stoop to it," said Emily, " and Julia admits he 
 was brave." 
 
 " And would not a brave man revolt at the cowardice of 
 insulting an unprotected woman ? And your hero did that 
 too," replied Mrs. Wilson, bitterly, losing her self-command 
 in indignation. 
 
 " Oh ! do not call him my hero, I beg of you, dear aunt," 
 said Emily, starting, excited by so extraordinary an allusion, 
 but instantly losing the unpleasant sensation in the delightful 
 consciousness of the superiority of the man on whom she had 
 bestowed her own admiration. 
 
 " In fact, my child," continued her aunt, " our natures are 
 guilty of the grossest inconsistencies. The vilest wretch has 
 generally some property on which he values himself, and the 
 most perfect are too often frail on some tender point. Long 
 
PRECAUTION. 271 
 
 and tried friendships are those only which can be trusted, and 
 these oftentimes fail." 
 
 Emily looked at her aunt in surprise at hearing her utter 
 such unusual sentiments ; for Mrs. Wilson, at the same time 
 she had, by divine assistance, deeply impressed her niece 
 with the frailty of her nature, had withheld the disgusting 
 representation of human vices from her view, as unnecessary 
 to her situation and dangerous to her humility. 
 
 After a short pause, Mrs. Wilson continued, " Marriage is 
 a fearful step in a woman, and one she is compelled, in some 
 measure, to adventure her happiness on, without fitting 
 opportunities of judging of the merit of the man she confides 
 in. Jane is an instance in point, but I devoutly hope you are 
 not to be another." 
 
 While speaking, Mrs. Wilson had taken the hand of Emily, 
 and by her looks and solemn manner she had succeeded in 
 alarming her niece, although Denbigh was yet furthest from 
 the thoughts of Emily. The aunt reached her a glass of 
 water, and willing to get rid of the hateful subject, she con 
 tinued, hurriedly, " Did you not notice the pocket-book 
 Francis gave to Mr. Denbigh ?" Emily fixed her inquiring 
 eyes on her aunt, as the other added, " It was the one Mrs. 
 Fitzgerald gave me to-day." Something like an indefinite 
 glimpse of the facts crossed the mind of Emily ; and as it 
 most obviously involved a separation from Denbigh, she sank 
 lifeless into the extended arms of her aunt. This had been 
 anticipated by Mrs; W T ilson, and a timely application of 
 restoratives soon brought her back to a consciousness of 
 misery. Mrs. Wilson, unwilling any one but herself should 
 witness this first burst of grief, succeeded in getting her niece 
 to her own room and in bed. Emily made no lamentations 
 shed no tears asked no questions her eye was fixed, and 
 every faculty appeared oppressed with the load on hei heart. 
 
272 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson knew her situation too well to intrude with 
 unseasonable consolation or useless reflections, but sat 
 patiently by her side, waiting anxiously for the moment she 
 could be of service. At length the uplifted eyes and clasped 
 1 lands of Emily assured her she had not forgotten herself or 
 her duty, and she was rewarded for her labor and forbearance 
 by a flood of tears. Emily was now able to listen to a more 
 full statement of the reasons her aunt had for believing in the 
 guilt of Denbigh, and she felt as if her heart was frozen up 
 for ever, as the proofs followed each other until they amounted 
 to demonstration. As there was some indication of fevei 
 from her agitated state of mind, her aunt required she should 
 remain in her room until morning ; and Emily, feeling every 
 way unequal to a meeting with Denbigh, gladly assented 
 After ringing for her maid to sit in the adjoining room, Mrs. 
 Wilson went below, and announced to the family the indis 
 position of her charge, and her desire to obtain a little sleep. 
 Denbigh looked anxious to inquire after the health of Emily, 
 but there was a restraint on all his actions, since the return 
 of his book, that persuaded Mrs. Wilson he apprehended 
 that a detection of his conduct had taken place. He did 
 venture to ask when they were to have the pleasure of seeing 
 Miss Moseley again, hoping it would be that evening, as he 
 bad fixed the morning for his departure ; and when he learnt 
 that Emily had retired for the night, his anxiety was sensibly 
 increased, and he instantly withdrew. Mrs. Wilson was 
 alone in the drawing-room, and about- to join her niece, as 
 Denbigh entered it with a letter in his hand : he approached 
 her with a diffident and constrained manner, and com 
 menced the following dialogue : 
 
 " My anxiety and situation will plead my apology for trou 
 bling Miss Moseley at this time may I ask you, madam, to de 
 liver this letter I hardly dare ask you for your good offices." 
 
PRECAUTION. 273 
 
 Mrs. Wilson took the letter and coldly replied, 
 
 " Certainly, sir ; and I sincerely wish I could be of any 
 real service to you." 
 
 " I perceive, madam," said Denbigh, like one that was 
 choking, " I have forfeited your good opinion that pocket- 
 book" 
 
 " Has made a dreadful discovery," said Mrs. Wilson, shud 
 dering. 
 
 " Will not one offence be pardoned, dear madam ?" cried 
 Denbigh, with warmth ; " if you knew my circumstances 
 the cruel reasons why why did I neglect the paternal 
 advice of Doctor Ives ?** 
 
 " It is not yet too late, sir," said Mrs. Wilson, more mildly, 
 " for your own good ; as for us, your deception " 
 
 " Is unpardonable I see it I feel it," cried he, in the 
 accent of despair ; " yet Emily Emily may relent you will 
 at least give her my letter anything is better than this sus 
 pense." 
 
 " You shall have an answer from Emily this evening, and 
 one entirely unbiassed by me," said Mrs. Wilson. As she 
 closed the door, she observed Denbigh gazing on her retiring 
 figure with a countenance of despair, that caused a feeling of 
 pity to mingle with her detestation of his vices. 
 
 On opening the door of Emily s room, Mrs. Wilson found 
 her niece in tears, and her anxiety for her health was alle 
 viated. She knew or hoped, that if she could once call in the 
 assistance of her judgment and piety to lessen her sorrows, 
 Emily, however she might mourn, would become resigned to 
 her situation ; and the first step to attain this was the exer 
 cise of those faculties which had been, as it were, momen 
 tarily annihilated. Mrs. Wilson kissed her niece with tender 
 ness, as she placed the letter in her hand, and told her she 
 would call for her answer within an hour. Employment, and 
 12* 
 
274 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the necessity of acting, would, she thought, be the surest 
 means of reviving her energies ; nor was she disappointed. 
 When the aunt returned for the expected answer, she was 
 informed by the maid in the ante-chamber, that Miss Moseley 
 was up, and had been writing. On entering, Mrs. Wilson stood 
 a moment in admiration of the picture before her. Emily was 
 on her knees, and by her side, on the carpet, lay the letter 
 and its answer : her face was hid by her hair, and her hands 
 were closed in the fervent grasp of petition. In a minute she 
 rose, and approaching her aunt with an air of profound 
 resignation, but great steadiness, she handed her the letters 
 her own unsealed : 
 
 "Read them, madam, and if you approve of mine, I wih 
 thank you to deliver it." 
 
 Her aunt folded her in her arms, until Emily, finding her 
 self yielding under the effects of sympathy, begged t-o be left 
 alone. On withdrawing to her own room, Mrs. Wilson read 
 the contents of the two letters. 
 
 " I rely greatly on the goodness of Miss Moseley to pardon 
 the liberty I am taking, at a moment she is so unfit for 
 such a subject ; but my departure my feelings -must plead 
 my apology. From the moment of my first acquaintance 
 with you, I have been a cheerful subject to your loveliness 
 and innocence. I feel I know I am not deserving of such 
 a blessing ; but since knowing you, as I do, it is impossible 
 not to strive to win you. You have often thanked me as the 
 preserver of your life, but you little knew the deep interest I 
 had in its safety. Without it my own would be valueless. 
 By accepting my offered hand, you will place me amongst 
 the happiest, or by rejecting it, the most wretched of men. * 
 
 To this note, which was unsigned, and evidently written 
 
PRECAUTION. 275 
 
 under great agitation of mind, Emily had penned the fol 
 lowing reply : 
 
 " Sir It is with much regret that I find myself reduced 
 to the possibility of giving uneasiness to one to whom I am 
 under such heavy obligations. It will never be in my power 
 to accept the honor you have offered me ; and I beg you to 
 receive my thanks for the compliment conveyed hi your 
 request, as well as my good wishes for your happiness in 
 future, and fervent prayers that you may be ever found 
 worthy of it. Your humble servant, 
 
 " EMILY MOSELEY." 
 
 Perfectly satisfied with this answer, Mrs. Wilson went below 
 in order to deliver it at once. She thought it probable, as Den- 
 bigh had already sent his baggage to a tavern, preparatory to his 
 intended journey, they would not meet again ; and as she felt 
 a strong wish, both on account of Doctor Ives, and out of 
 respect to the services of the young man himself, to conceal 
 his conduct from the world entirely, she was in hopes that 
 his absence might make any disclosure unnecessary. He 
 took the letter from her with a trembling hand, and casting 
 one of his very expressive looks at her, as if to read her 
 thoughts, he withdrew. 
 
 Emily had fallen asleep free from fever, and Mrs. Wilson 
 had descended to the supper-room, when Mr. Benfield was 
 first struck with the absence of his favorite. An inquiry after 
 Denbigh was instituted, and while they were waiting his 
 appearance, a servant handed the old man a note. 
 
 < From whom?" cried Mr. Benfield, in surprise. 
 
 "Mr. Denbigh, sir," said the servant. 
 
 "Mr. Denbigh?" exclaimed Mr. Benfield: "no accident,! 
 ope I remember when Lord Gosford here, Peter, your 
 eyes are young ; read it for me, read it aloud." 
 
276 PRECAUTION. 
 
 As all but Mrs. Wilson were anxiously waiting to know the 
 meaning of this message, and Peter had many preparations 
 to go through before his youthful eyes could make out the 
 contents, John hastily caught the letter out of his hand, saying 
 lie would save him the trouble, and, in obedience to his 
 uncle s wishes, he read aloud 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh, being under the necessity of leaving L 
 
 immediately, and unable to endure the pain of taking leave, 
 avails himself of this means of tendering his warmest thanks 
 to Mr. Benfield, for his hospitality, and to his amiable guests 
 for their many kindnesses. As he contemplates leaving 
 England, he desires to wish them all a long and an affection 
 ate farewell." 
 
 " Farewell !" cried Mr. Benfield ; " farewell does he say 
 farewell, John? Here, Peter, run no, you are too old- 
 John, run bring my hat; I ll go myself to the village 
 some love-quarrel Emmy sick and Denbigh going away 
 yes yes, I did so myself Lady Juliana, poor dear soul, she 
 was a long time before she could forget it but Peter r> 
 Peter had disappeared the instant the letter was finished, and 
 he was quickly followed by John. Sir Edward and Lady 
 Moseley were lost in amazement at this sudden and unex 
 pected movement of Denbigh, and the breast of each of the 
 affectionate parents was filled with a vague apprehension that 
 the peace of mind of another child was at stake. Jane felt a 
 renewal of her woes, in the anticipation of something similar 
 for her sister for the fancy of Jane was yet active, and she 
 did not cease to consider the defection of Egerton a kind of 
 unmerited misfortune and fatality, instead of a probable con 
 sequence of want of principle. Like Mr. Benfield, she was in 
 danger of raising an ideal idol, and of spending the remainder 
 
PRECAUTION 1 . 277 
 
 of her days in devotion to qualities, rarely if ever found iden 
 tified with a person that never had existed. The old gentle 
 man was entirely engrossed by a different object ; and having 
 in his own opinion decided there must have been one of those 
 misunderstandings which sometimes had occurred to himself 
 and Lady Juliana, he quietly composed himself to eat his 
 salad at the supper table : on turning his head, however, in 
 quest of his first glass of wine, he observed Peter standing 
 quietly by the sideboard with the favorite goggles over his 
 eyes. Now Peter was troubled with two kinds of debility 
 about his organs of vision ; one was age and natural weak 
 ness, while the other proceeded more directly from the heart. 
 His master knew of these facts, and he took the alarm. 
 Again the wine-glass dropped from his nerveless hand, as he 
 said in a trembling tone, 
 
 " Peter, I thought you went" 
 
 " Yes, master," said Peter, laconically. 
 
 " You saw him, Peter will he return ?" 
 
 Peter was busily occupied at his glasses, although no one 
 was dry. 
 
 " Peter," repeated Mr. Benfield, rising from his seat ; " is he 
 coming in time for supper ?" 
 
 Peter was obliged to reply, and deliberately uncasing his 
 eyes and blowing his nose, he was on the point of opening 
 his mouth, as John came into the room, and threw himself 
 into a chair with an air of great vexation. Peter pointed to 
 the young gentleman in silence, and retired. 
 
 " John," cried Sir Edward, " where is Denbigh ?" 
 
 " Gone, sir." 
 
 " Gone !" 
 
 " Yes, my dear father," said John, " gone without saying 
 good-bye to one of us without telling us whither, or when 
 to return. It was cruel in him unkind I ll never forgive 
 
278 PRECAUTION. 
 
 him" and John, whose feelings were strong, and unusually 
 excited, hid his face between his hands on the table. As he 
 raised his head to reply to a question of Mr. Benfield of 
 "how he knew he had gone, for the coach did not go 
 until daylight?" Mrs. Wilson saw evident marks of tears. 
 Such proofs of emotion in one like John Moseley gave 
 her the satisfaction of knowing that if she had been de 
 ceived, it was by a concurrence of circumstances and a 
 depth of hypocrisy almost exceeding belief: self-reproach 
 added less than common, therefore, to the uneasiness of the 
 moment. 
 
 " I saw the innkeeper, uncle," said John, " who told me 
 that Denbigh left there at eight o clock in a post-chaise and 
 four ; but I will go to London in the morning myself." This 
 was no sooner said than it was corroborated by acts, for the 
 young man immediately commenced his preparations for the 
 journey. The family separated that evening with melan 
 choly hearts ; and the host and his privy counsellor were 
 closeted for half an hour ere they retired to their night s 
 repose. John took his leave of them, and left the lodge for 
 the inn, with his man, hi order to be ready for the mail. 
 Mrs. Wilson looked in upon Emily before she withdrew her 
 self, and found her awake, but perfectly calm and composed : 
 she said but little, appearing desirous of avoiding all allusions 
 to Denbigh ; and after her aunt had simply acquainted her 
 with his departure, and her resolution to conceal the cause, 
 the subject was dropped. Mrs. Wilson, on entering her own 
 room, thought deeply on the discoveries of the day : they had 
 interfered with her favorite system of morals, baffled her 
 ablest calculations upon causes and effects, but in no degree 
 had impaired her faith or reliance on Providence. She knew 
 one exception did not destroy a rule : she was certain without 
 principles there was no security for good conduct, and the 
 
PRECAUTION. 279 
 
 case *>f Denbigh proved it. To discover these principles, 
 might be difficult ; but was a task imperiously required at her 
 hands, as she believed, ere she yielded the present and future 
 happiness of her pupil t t0 the power of any man. 
 
280 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 THE day had not yet dawned, when John Moseley was 
 summoned to take his seat in the mail for London. Three 
 of the places were already occupied, and John was compelled 
 to get a seat for his man on the outside. An intercourse 
 with strangers is particularly irksome to an Englishman, and 
 none appeared disposed, for a long time, to break the silence. 
 
 The coach had left the little village of L far behind it, 
 
 before any of the rational beings it contained thought it pru 
 dent or becoming to bend in the least to the charities of our 
 nature, in a communication with a fellow creature of whose 
 name or condition he happened to be ignorant. This reserve 
 is unquestionably characteristic of the nation ; to what is it 
 owing! modesty? Did not national and deep personal 
 vanity appear at once to refute the assertion, we might enter 
 into an investigation of it. The good opinion of himself in 
 an Englishman is more deeply seated, though less buoyant, 
 than that of his neighbors ; in them it is more of manner, in 
 us more of feeling ; and the wound inflicted on the self-love 
 of the two is very different. The Frenchman wonders at its 
 rudeness, but soon forgets the charge ; while an Englishman 
 broods over it in silence and mortification. It is said this 
 distinction in character is owing to the different estimation 
 of principles and morals in the two nations. The solidity 
 and purity of our ethics and religious creeds may have 
 given a superior tone to our moral feeling ; but has thai man 
 a tenable ground to value himself on either, whose respect 
 to sacred things grows out of a respect to himself: on the 
 
PRECAUTION. 281 
 
 other hand, is not humility the very foundation of the real 
 Christian? For our part, we should be glad to see this 
 national reserve lessened, if not done entirely away ; we 
 believe it is founded in pride and uncharitableness, and could 
 wish to see men thrown accidentally together on the roads 
 of the country, mindful that they are also travelling in com 
 pany the highway of life, and that the goal of their destina 
 tion is equally attainable by all. 
 
 John Moseley was occupied with thoughts very different 
 from those of any of his fellow-travellers, as they proceeded 
 rapidly on their route ; and it was only when roused from 
 his meditations by accidentally coming in contact with the hilt 
 of a sword, that he looked up, and in the glimmerings of the 
 morning s light, recognised the person of Lord Henry Sta- 
 oleton : their eyes met, and " My lord," "Mr. Moseley," 
 were repeated in mutual surprise. John was eminently a 
 social being, and he was happy to find recourse against his 
 gloomy thoughts in the conversation of the dashing young 
 sailor. The frigate of the other had entered the bay the 
 night before, and he was going t> town to the wedding of 
 his sister ; the coach of his brother the marquis was to meet 
 him about twenty miles from town, and the ship was ordered 
 round to Yarmouth, where he was to rejoin her. 
 
 " But how are your lovely sisters, Moseley ?" cried the 
 young sailor in a frank and careless manner. " I should have 
 been half in love with one of them if I had time and 
 money ; both are necessary to marriage nowadays, you 
 know." 
 
 " As to time," said John with a laugh, " I believe that 
 may be dispensed with, though money is certainly a different 
 thing." 
 
 " Oh, time too," replied his lordship. " I have never time 
 enough to do anything as it ought to be done always hurried 
 
282 PRECAUTION. 
 
 I wish you could recommend to me a lady who would 
 take the trouble off my hands." 
 
 " It might be done," said John with a smile, and the image 
 of Kate Chatterton crossed his brain, but it was soon suc 
 ceeded by that of her more lovely sister. " But how do you 
 manage on board your ship hurried there too ?" 
 
 " Oh ! never there," replied the captain gravely ; " that s 
 duty you know, and everything must be regular of course ; 
 on shore it is a different thing there I am only a passenger. 
 
 L has a charming society, Mr. Moseley a week or ten 
 
 days ago I was shooting, and came to a beautiful cottage 
 about five miles from the village, that was the abode of a 
 much more beautiful woman, a Spaniard, a Mrs. Fitzgerald 
 I am positively in love with her : so soft, so polished, so 
 modest " 
 
 " How came you acquainted with her ?" inquired Moseley, 
 interrupting him in a little surprise. 
 
 " Chance, my dear fellow, chance. I was thirsty, and 
 approached for a drink of water ; she was sitting in the ve 
 randa, and being hurried for time, you know, it saved the 
 trouble of introduction. I fancy she is troubled with the 
 same complaint; for she managed to get rid of me in no 
 time, and witH a great deal of politeness. I found out her 
 name, however, at the next house." 
 
 During this rattling talk, John had fixed his eyes on the 
 face of one of the passengers who sat opposite to him. The 
 stranger appeared to be about fifty years of age, strongly 
 pock-marked, with a stiff military air, and had the dress 
 and exterior of a gentlemen. His face was much sun 
 burnt, though naturally very fair ; and his dark keen eye 
 was intently fixed on the sailor as he continued his re 
 marks. 
 
 " Do you know such a lady, Moseley 2" 
 
PRECAUTION. 283 
 
 " Yes," said John, " though very slightly ; she is visited 
 by one of my sisters, and " 
 
 " Yourself," cried Lord Henry, with a laugh. 
 
 "Myself, once or twice, my lord, certainly," answered 
 John, gravely ; " but a lady visited by Emily Moseley and 
 Mrs. Wilson is a proper companion for any one. Mrs. 
 Fitzgerald is very retired in her manner of living, and chance 
 made us acquainted ; but not being, like your lordship, in 
 want of time, we have endeavored to cultivate her society, 
 as we have found it very agreeable." 
 
 The countenance of the stranger underwent several 
 changes during this speech of John s, and at its close his eyes 
 rested on him with a softer expression than generally marked 
 its rigid and compressed muscles. Willing to change a dis 
 course that was growing too particular for a mail-coach, 
 John addressed himself to the opposite passengers, while his 
 eye yet dwelt on the face of the military stranger. 
 
 "We are likely to hare a fine day, gentlemen." The 
 soldier bowed stiffly, as he smiled his assent, and the other 
 passenger humbly answered, " Very, Mr. John," in the well 
 known tones of honest Peter Johnson. Moseley started, as 
 he turned his face for the first time on the lank figure which 
 was modestly compressed into the smallest possible compass 
 in the corner of the coach, in a way not to come in contact 
 with any of its neighbors. 
 
 " Johnson," exclaimed John, in astonishment, "you here! 
 Where are you going to London ?" 
 
 " To London, Mr. John," replied Peter, with a look of 
 much importance; and then, by way of silencing further 
 interrogatories, he added, " On my master s business, sir." 
 
 Both Moseley and Lord Henry examined him closely ; the 
 former wondering what could take the steward, at the age of 
 seventy, for th. first tin*e in his life, into the vortex of the 
 
284 PRECAUTION. 
 
 capital ; and the latter in admiration at the figure and equip 
 ments of the old man. Peter was in full costume, with the 
 exception of the goggles, and was in reality a subject to be 
 gazed at ; but nothing relaxed the muscles or attracted the 
 particular notice of the soldier, who, having regained his set 
 form of countenance, appeared drawn up in himself, waiting 
 patiently for the moment he was expected to act. Nor did 
 he utter more than as many words in the course of the first 
 fifty miles of their journey. His dialect was singular, and 
 such as put his hearers at a loss to determine his country. 
 Lord Henry stared at him every time he spoke, as if to say, 
 what countryman are you ? until at length he suggested to 
 John he was some officer whom the downfal of Bonaparte 
 had driven into retirement. 
 
 " Indeed, Moseley," he added, as they were about to 
 resume their carriage after a change of horses, "we must 
 draw him out, and see what he thinks of his master now 
 delicately, you know." The soldier was, however, impervious 
 to his lordship s attacks, until the project was finally aban 
 doned in despair. As Peter was much too modest to talk in 
 the presence of Mr. John Moseley and a lord, the young men 
 had most of the discourse to themselves. At a village fifteen 
 miles from London, a fashionable carriage and four, with the 
 coronet of a marquis, was in waiting for Lord Henry. John 
 refused his invitation to take a seat with him to town ; for ho 
 had traced Denbigh from stage to stage, and was fearful of 
 losing sight of him, unless he persevered in the manner he 
 had commenced. Peter and he accordingly were put down 
 safely at an inn in the Strand, and Moseley hastened to make 
 his inquiries after the object of his pursuit. Such a chaise 
 had arrived an hour before, and the gentleman had ordered 
 his trunk to a neighboring hotel. After obtaining the 
 address, and ordering a hackney coach, he hastened to the 
 
PRECAUTION. " 285 
 
 house ; but on inquiring for Mr. Denbigh, to his great mor 
 tification was told they knew of no such gentleman. John 
 turned away from the person he was speaking to in visible 
 disappointment, when a servant respectfully inquired if the 
 
 gentleman had not come from L , in Norfolk, that day. 
 
 " He had," was the reply. " Then follow me, sir, if you 
 please." They knocked at a door of one of the parlors, and 
 the servant entered : he returned, and John was shown into 
 a room, where Denbigh was sitting with his head resting on 
 his hand, and apparently musing. On seeing who required 
 admittance, he sprang from his seat and exclaimed 
 
 " Mr. Moseley ! Do I see aright ?" 
 
 "Denbigh," cried John, stretching out his hand to him, 
 " was this kind was it like yourself to leave us so unex 
 pectedly, and for so long a time, too, as your note mentioned ?" 
 
 Denbigh waved his hand to the servant to retire, and 
 handed a chair to his friend. 
 
 " Mr. Moseley," said he, struggling with his feelings, " you 
 appear ignorant of my proposals to your sister." 
 
 " Perfectly," answered the amazed John. 
 
 " And her rejection of them." 
 
 " Is it possible !" cried the brother, pacing up and down 
 the room. " I acknowledge I did expect you to offer, but 
 not to be refused." 
 
 Denbigh placed in the other hand the letter of Emily, 
 which, having read, John returned, with a sigh. " This, then, 
 is the reason you left us," he continued. " Emily is not 
 capricious it cannot be a sudden pique she means as she 
 says." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Moseley," said Denbigh, mournfully ; " your 
 sister is faultless but I am not worthy of her my decep 
 tion" here the door again opened to the admission of Peter 
 Johnson. Both the gentlemen rose at this sudden interrup- 
 
286 PRECAUTION. 
 
 tion, and the steward advancing to the table, once more 
 produced the formidable pocket-book, the spectacles, and a 
 letter. He ran over its direction "For George Denbigh, 
 Esquire, London, by the hands of Peter Johnson, with care 
 and speed." After the observance of these preliminaries, he 
 delivered the missive to its lawful owner, who opened it, and 
 rapidly perused its contents. Denbigh was much affected 
 with whatever the latter might be, and kindly took the 
 steward by the hand, as he thanked him for this renewed 
 instance of the interest he took in him. If he would tell him 
 where a letter would find him in the morning, he would send 
 a reply to the one he had received. Peter gave his address, 
 but appeared unwilling to go, until assured again and again 
 that the answer would be infallibly sent. Taking a small 
 account-book out of his pocket, and referring to its contents, 
 the steward said, " Master has with Coutts & Co. 7,000 ; 
 in the bank, 5,000. It can be easily done, sir, and never 
 felt by us." Denbigh smiled in reply, as he assured the 
 steward he would take proper notice of his master s offers in 
 his own answer. The door again opened, and the military 
 stranger was admitted to their presence. He bowed, appeared 
 not a little surprised to find two of his mail-coach companions 
 there, and handed Denbigh a letter, in quite as formal, 
 although in a more silent manner than the steward. The 
 soldier was invited to be seated, and the letter was perused 
 with an evident curiosity on the part of Denbigh. As soon 
 as the latter ended it, he addressed the stranger in a language 
 which John rightly judged to be Spanish, and Peter took to 
 be Greek. For a few minutes the conversation was main 
 tained between them with great earnestness, his fellow- 
 travellers marvelling much at the garrulity of the soldier 
 however, the stranger soon rose to retire, when the door 
 was thrown open for the fourth time, and a voice cried out, 
 
PRECAUTION. 287 
 
 " Here I am, George, safe and sound ready to kiss the 
 bridesmaids, if they will let me and I can find time bless 
 me, Moseley ! old marling-spike ! general ! whew, where 
 is the coachman and guard ?" it was Lord Henry Stapleton. 
 The Spaniard bowed again in silence and withdrew, while 
 Denbigh threw open the door of an adjoining room and 
 excused himself, as he desired Lord Henry to walk in there 
 for a few minutes. 
 
 " Upon my word," cried the heedless sailor, as he com 
 plied, " we might as well have stuck together, Moseley ; we 
 were bound to one port, it seems." 
 
 " You know Lord Henry ?" said John, as he withdrew. 
 
 "Yes," said Denbigh, and he again required his address 
 of Peter, which having been given, the steward departed. 
 The conversation between the two friends did not return to 
 the course it was taking when they were interrupted, as 
 Moseley felt a delicacy in making any allusion to the pro 
 bable cause of his sister s refusal. He had, however, begun 
 to hope it was not irremovable, and with the determination 
 of renewing his visit in the morning, he took his leave, to 
 allow Denbigh to attend to his other guest, Lord Henry 
 Stapleton. 
 
 About twelve on the following morning, John and the 
 steward met at the door of the hotel where Denbigh lodged, 
 in quest of the same person. The latter held in his hand 
 the answer to his master s letter, but wished particularly to 
 see its writer. On inquiring, to their mutual surprise they 
 were told, that the gentleman had left there early in the 
 morning, having discharged his lodgings, and that they were 
 unable to say whither he had gone. To hunt for a man with 
 out a clew, in the city of London, is usually time misspent. 
 Of this Moseley was perfectly sensible, and disregarding a pro 
 position of Peter s, he returned to his own lodgings. The pro- 
 
288 PRECAUTION. 
 
 posal of the steward, if it did not do much credit to his 
 sagacity, was much in favor of his perseverance and enter 
 prise. It was no other than that John should take one side 
 of the street, and he the other, in order to inquire at every 
 house in the place, until the fugitive was discovered. " Sir," 
 said Peter, with great simplicity, " when our neighbor White 
 lost his little girl, this was the way we found her, although 
 
 we went nearly through L before we succeeded, Mr. 
 
 John." Peter was obliged to abandon this expedient for 
 want of an associate, and as no message was left at the 
 lodgings of Moseley, he started with a heavy heart on his 
 return to Benfield Lodge. But Moseley s zeal was too 
 warm in the cause of his friend, notwithstanding his un 
 merited desertion, to discontinue the search for him. He 
 sought out the town residence of the Marquess of Eltring- 
 ham, the brother of Lord Henry, and was told that both 
 the Marquess and his brother had left town early that 
 morning for his seat in Devonshire, to attend the wedding 
 of their sister. 
 
 " Did they go alone ?" asked John musing. 
 
 " There were two chaises, the Marquess s and his Grace s." 
 
 " Who was his Grace ?" inquired John. 
 
 " Why the Duke of Derwent, to be sure." 
 
 " And the Duke ? was he alone ?" 
 
 " There was a gentleman with his Grace, but they did not 
 know his name." 
 
 As nothing further could be learnt, John withdrew. A 
 good deal of irritation mixed with the vexation of Moseley 
 at his disappointment ; for Denbigh, he thought, too evidently 
 wished to avoid him. That he was the companion of his 
 kinsman, the Duke of Derwent, he had now no doubt, and 
 he entirely relinquished all expectations of rinding him in 
 London or its environs. While retracing his steps in no 
 
PRECAUTION. 289 
 
 enviable state of mind to his lodgings, with a resolution of 
 
 returning immediately to L , his arm was suddenly 
 
 taken by his friend Chatterton. If any man could have 
 consoled John at that moment, it was the Baron. Questions 
 and answers were rapidly exchanged between them ; and 
 with increased satisfaction, John learnt that in the next square, 
 he could have the pleasure of paying his respects to his 
 kinswoman, the Dowager Lady Chatterton, and her two 
 daughters. Chatterton inquired warmly after Emily, and in 
 a particularly kind manner concerning Mr. Denbigh, hearing 
 with undisguised astonishment the absence of the latter from 
 the Moseley family. 
 
 Lady Chatterton had disciplined her feelings upon the 
 subject of Grace and John into such a state of subordination^ 
 that the fastidious jealousy of the young man now found no 
 ground of alarm in anything she said or did. It cannot be 
 denied the Dowager was delighted to see him again ; and 
 if it were fair to draw any conclusions from coloring, pal 
 pitations, and other such little accompaniments of femal* 
 feeling, Grace was not excessively sorry. It is true, it wa* 
 the best possible opportunity to ascertain all about her friend 
 Emily and the rest of the family ; and Grace was extremely 
 happy to have intelligence of their general welfare so direct 
 as was afforded by this visit of Mr. Moseley. Grace looked all 
 she expressed, and possibly a little more ; and John thought 
 she looked very beautiful. 
 
 There was present an elderly gentleman, of apparently 
 indifferent health, although his manners were extremely 
 lively, and his dress particularly studied. A few minutes 
 observation convinced Moseley this gentleman was a candi 
 date for the favor of Kate ; and a game of chess being soon 
 introduced, he also saw he was one thought worthy of 
 peculiar care and attention. He had been introduced to 
 13 
 
290 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Mm as Lord Herriefield, and soon discovered by his conver 
 sation that he was a peer who promised little towards 
 rendering the house of incurables more convalescent than it 
 was before his admission. Chatterton mentioned him as a 
 distant connexion of his mother ; a gentleman who had 
 lately returned from filling an official situation in the East 
 Indies, to take his seat among the lords by the death of his 
 brother. He was a bachelor, and reputed rich, much of his 
 wealth being personal property, acquired by himself abroad. 
 The dutiful son might have added, if respect and feeling had 
 not kept him silent, that his offers of settling a large jointure 
 upon his elder sister had been accepted, and that the following 
 week was to make her the bride of the emaciated debauchee 
 who now sat by her side. He might also have said, that 
 when the proposition was made to himself and Grace, both 
 had shrunk from the alliance with disgust : and that both 
 had united in humble though vain remonstrances to their 
 mother, against the sacrifice, and in petitions to their sister, 
 that she would not be accessary to her own misery. There 
 was no pecuniary sacrifice they would not make to her, to 
 avert such a connexion ; but all was fruitless Kate was 
 resolved to be a viscountess, and her mother was equally 
 determined that she should be rich. 
 
PRECAUTION. 29 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A DAY elapsed between the departure of Denbigh and the 
 reappearance of Emily amongst her friends. An indifferent 
 observer would have thought her much graver and less ani 
 mated than usual. A loss of the rich color which ordinarily 
 glowed on her healthful cheek might be noticed ; but the 
 placid sweetness and graceful composure which regulated her 
 former conduct pervaded all she did or uttered. Not so 
 with Jane : her pride had suffered more than her feelings 
 her imagination had been more deceived than her judgment 
 and although too well bred and soft by nature to become 
 rude or captious, she was changed from a communicative, to 
 a reserved ; from a confiding, to a suspicious companion. 
 Her parents noticed this alteration with an uneasiness that 
 was somewhat embittered by the consciousness of a neglect 
 of some of those duties that experience now seemed to indi 
 cate, could never be forgotten with impunity. 
 
 Francis and Clara had arrived from their northern tour, so 
 happy in each other, and so contented with their lot, that it 
 required some little exercise of fortitude in both Lady Mose- 
 ley and her daughters, to expel unpleasant recollections while 
 they contemplated it. Their relation of the little incidents 
 of their tour had, however, an effect to withdraw the atten 
 tion of their friends in some degree from late occurrences ; 
 and a melancholy and sympathizing kind of association had 
 taken place of the unbounded confidence and gaiety ; which 
 so lately prevailed at Benfield Lodge. Mr. Benfield mingled 
 with his solemnity an air of mystery ; and he was frequently 
 
292 PRECAUTION. 
 
 noticed by his relatives looking over old papers, and was 
 apparently employed in preparations that indicated move 
 ments of more than usual importance. 
 
 The family were collected in one of the parlors on an ex 
 tremely unpleasant day, the fourth after the departure of 
 John, when the thin person of Johnson stalked in amongst 
 them. All eyes were fixed on him in expectation of what he 
 had to communicate, and all apparently dreading to break 
 the silence, from an apprehension that his communication 
 would be unpleasant. In the meantime Peter, who had 
 respectfully left his hat at the door, proceeded to uncase his 
 body from the multiplied defences he had taken against the 
 inclemency of the weather. His master stood erect, with an 
 outstretched hand, ready to receive the reply to his epistle ; 
 and Johnson having liberated his body from thraldom, pro 
 duced the black leathern pocket-book, and from its contents 
 a letter, when he read aloud Roderic Benfield, Esq., Ben- 
 field Lodge, Norfolk ; favored by Mr. here Peter s modesty 
 got the better of his method ; he had never been called Mr. 
 Johnson by anybody, old or young ; all knew him in that 
 neighborhood as Peter Johnson and he had very nearly 
 been guilty of the temerity of arrogating to himself another 
 title in the presence of those he most respected : a degree of 
 self-elevation from which he escaped with the loss of a small 
 piece of his tongue. Mr. Benfield took the letter with an 
 eagerness that plainly indicated the deep interest he took in 
 its contents, while Emily, with a tremulous voice and flushed 
 cheek, approached the steward with a glass of wine. 
 " Peter," she said, " take this ; it will do you good." 
 " Thank you, Miss Emma," said Peter, casting his eyes 
 from her to his master, as the latter, having finished his letter, 
 exclaimed, with a strange mixture of consideration and dis 
 appointment 
 
PRECAUTION. 293 
 
 " Johnson, you must change your clothes immediately, or 
 you will take cold : you look now like old Moses, the Jew 
 beggar." 
 
 Peter sighed heavily at this comparison, and saw in it a 
 confirmation of his fears j for he well knew, that to his being 
 the bearer of unpleasant tidings was he indebted for a resem 
 blance to anything unpleasant to his master, and Moses was 
 the old gentleman s aversion. 
 
 The baronet now followed his uncle from the room to his 
 library, entering it at the same moment with the steward, 
 who had been summoned by his master to an audience. 
 
 Pointing to a chair for his nephew, Mr. Benfield com 
 menced the discourse with saying, 
 
 Peter, you saw Mr. Denbigh ; how did he look ?" 
 
 " As usual, master," said Peter, laconically, still piqued at 
 being likened to old Moses. 
 
 " And what did he say to the offer 1 did he not make any 
 comments on it ? He was not offended at it, I hope," de 
 manded Mr. Benfield. 
 
 " He said nothing but what he has written to your honor," 
 replied the steward, losing a little of his constrained manner 
 in real good feeling to his master. 
 
 " May I ask what the offer was ?" inquired Sir Edward. 
 
 Mr. Benfield regarding him a moment in silence, said, " Cer 
 tainly, you are nearly concerned in his welfare ; your daughter" 
 the old man stopped, turned to his letter-book, and handed 
 the baronet a copy of the epistle he had sent to Denbigh. It 
 read as follows : 
 
 " DEAR FRIEND MR. DENBIGH, 
 
 " I have thought a great deal on the reason of your sudden 
 departure from a house I had begun to hope you thought 
 your own ; and by calling to mind my own feelings when 
 
294 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Lady Juliana became the heiress to her nephew s estate, take 
 it for granted you have been governed by the same senti 
 ments ; which I know both by my own experience and that 
 of the bearer, Peter Johnson, is a never-failing accompani 
 ment of pure affection. Yes, my dear Denbigh, I honor 
 your delicacy in not wishing to become indebted to a stran 
 ger, as it were, for the money on which you subsist, and that 
 stranger your wife who ought in reason to look up to you, 
 instead of your looking up to her ; which was the true cause 
 Lord Gosford would not marry the countess on account of 
 her great wealth, as he assured me himself ; notwithstanding, 
 envious people said it was because her ladyship loved Mr 
 Chaworth better : so in order to remove these impediments 
 of delicacy, I have to make three propositions, namely, that I 
 bring you into parliament the next election for my own bo 
 rough that you take possession of the lodge the day you 
 marry Emmy, while I will live, for the little time I have to 
 stay here, in the large cottage built by my uncle and that I 
 give you your legacy of ten thousand pounds down, to pre 
 vent trouble hereafter. 
 
 " As I know nothing but delicacy has driven you away 
 from us, I make no doubt you will now find all objections 
 removed, and that Peter will bring back the joyful intelli 
 gence of your return to us, as soon as the business you left 
 us on, is completed. 
 
 " Your uncle, that is to be, 
 
 " RODERIC BENFIELD." 
 
 " N. B. As Johnson is a stranger to the ways of the 
 town, I wish you to advise his inexperience, particularly 
 against the arts of designing women, Peter being a man of 
 considerable estate, and great modesty." 
 
 "There, nephew," cried Mr. Benfield, as the baronet 
 
PRECAUTION. 2i)5 
 
 finished reading the letter aloud, * is it not unreasonable to 
 refuse my offers ? Now read his answer." 
 
 " Words are wanting to express the sensations which have 
 been excited by Mr. Benfield s letter ; but it would be impos 
 sible for any man to be so base as to Avail himself of such 
 liberality : the recollection of it, together with that of his 
 many virtues, will long continue deeply impressed on the 
 heart of him, whom Mr. Benfield would, if within the power 
 of man, render the happiest amongst human beings." 
 
 The steward listened eagerly to this answer, but after it 
 was done he was as much at a loss to know its contents as 
 before its perusal. He knew it was unfavorable to their 
 wishes, but could not comprehend its meaning or expressions, 
 and immediately attributed their ambiguity to the strange 
 conference he had witnessed between Denbigh and the mili 
 tary stranger. 
 
 " Master," exclaimed Peter, with something of the elation 
 of a discoverer, "I know the cause, it shows itself in the 
 letter : there was a man talking Greek to him while he was 
 reading your letter." 
 
 " Greek !" exclaimed Sir Edward in astonishment. 
 
 " Greek !" said the uncle. " Lord Gosford read Greek ; 
 but I believe never conversed in that language." 
 
 "Yes, Sir Edward yes, your honor pure wild Greek; 
 it must have been something of that kind," added Peter, with 
 positiveness, "that would make a man refuse such offers 
 Miss Emmy the lodge 10,000 !" and the steward shook 
 his head with much satisfaction at having discovered the 
 cause. 
 
 Sir Edward smiled at the simplicity of Johnson, but difih 
 liking the idea attached to the refusal of his daughter, said, 
 
296 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Perhaps, after all, uncle, there has been some misunder 
 standing between Emily and Denbigh, which may have driven 
 him from us so suddenly." 
 
 Mr. Benfield and his steward exchanged looks, and a new 
 idea broke upon them at the instant. They had both suf 
 fered in that way ; and after all it might prove that Emily was 
 the one whose taste or feelings had subverted their schemes. 
 The impression, once made, soon became strong, and the party 
 separated ; the master thinking alternately on Lady Juliana 
 and his niece, while the man, after heaving one heavy sigh to 
 the memory of Patty Steele, proceeded to the usual occupa 
 tions of his office. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson thinking a ride would be of service to Emily, 
 and having the fullest confidence in her self-command and 
 resignation, availed herself of a fine day to pay a visit to their 
 friend in the cottage. Mrs. Fitzgerald received them in her 
 usual manner, but a single glance of her eye sufficed to show 
 the aunt that she noticed the altered appearance of Emily 
 aud her manners, although without knowing its true reason, 
 which she did not deem it prudent to explain. Julia handed 
 her friend a note which she said she had received the day 
 before, and desired their counsel how to proceed in the pre 
 sent emergency. As Emily was to be made acquainted with 
 its contents, her aunt read it aloud as follows : 
 
 " MY DEAR NIECE, 
 
 " Your father and myself had been induced to think you 
 were leading a disgraceful life, with the officer your husband 
 had consigned you to the care of ; for hearing of your capti 
 vity, I had arrived with a band of Guerillas, on the spot 
 where you were rescued, early the next morning, and there 
 learnt of the peasants your misfortunes and retreat. The 
 enemy pressed us too much to allow us to deviate from our 
 
PRECAUTION. 297 
 
 route at the time ; but natural affection and the wishes of 
 your father have led me to make a journey to England, in 
 order to satisfy our doubts as regards your conduct. I have 
 seen you, heard your character in the neighborhood, and after 
 much and long search have found out the officer, and am 
 satisfied, that so far as concerns your deportment, you are an 
 injured woman. I have therefore to propose to you, on my 
 own behalf, and that of the Conde, that you adopt the faith 
 of your country, and return with me to the arms of your 
 parent, whose heiress you will be, and whose life you may 
 be the means of prolonging. Direct your answer to me, to 
 the care of our ambassador ; and as you decide, I am your 
 mother s brother, Louis M CARTHT T HARRISON." 
 
 " On what point do you wish my advice ?" said Mrs. Wil 
 son, kindly, after she had finished reading the letter, 4< and 
 when do you expect to see your uncle T 
 
 " Would you have me accept the offer of my father, dear 
 madam, or ani I to remain separated from him for the short 
 residue of his life ?" 
 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald was affected to tears, as she asked this 
 question, and waited her answer, in silent dread of its 
 nature. 
 
 " Is the condition of a change of religion, an immovable 
 one ?" inquired Mrs. Wilson, in a thoughtful manner. 
 
 " Oh ! doubtless," replied Julia, shuddering ; " but I am 
 deservedly punished for my early disobedience, and bow in 
 submission to the will of Providence. I feel now all that 
 horror of a change of my religion, I once only affected ; I 
 must live and die a Protestant, madam." 
 
 " Certainly, I hope so, my dear," said Mrs. Wilson ; " I 
 am not a bigot, and think it unfortunate you were not, in 
 your circumstances, bred a pious Catholic. It would have 
 13* 
 
298 PRECAUTION. 
 
 saved you much misery, and might have rendered the close 
 of your father s life more happy ; but as your present creed 
 embraces doctrines too much at variance with the Romish 
 church to renounce the one or to adopt the other, with your 
 views, it will be impossible to change your church without 
 committing a heavy offence against the opinions and practices 
 of every denomination of Christians. I should hope a proper 
 representation of this to your uncle would have its weight, or 
 they might be satisfied with your being a Christian, without 
 becoming a Catholic." 
 
 " Ah ! my dear madam," answered Mrs. Fitzgerald, des 
 pairingly, " you little know the opinions of my countrymen 
 on this subject." 
 
 " Surely, surely," cried Mrs. Wilson, " parental affection is 
 a stronger feeling than bigotry." 
 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald shook her head in a manner which bespoke 
 both her apprehensions and her filial regard. 
 
 " Julia ought not, must not, desert her father, dear 
 aunt," said Emily, her face glowing with the ardency of her 
 feelings. 
 
 " And ought she to desert her heavenly Father, my child 2" 
 asked the aunt, mildly. 
 
 " Are the duties conflicting, dearest aunt ?" 
 
 " The Conde makes them so. Julia is, I trust, in sincerity 
 a Christian, and with what face can she offer up her daily 
 petitions to her Creator, while she wears a mask to her 
 earthly father ; or how can she profess to honor doctrines 
 that she herself believes to be false, or practise customs she 
 thinks improper ?" 
 
 " Never, never," exclaimed Julia, with fervor ; " the strug 
 gle is dreadful, but I submit to the greater duty." 
 
 " And you decide rightly, my -friend," said Mrs. Wilson, 
 soothingly; "but you need relax no efforts to convince the 
 
PRECAUTION. 299 
 
 Conde of your wishes : truth and nature will finally con 
 quer." 
 
 " Ah !" cried Mrs. Fitzgerald, " the sad consequences of 
 one false step in early life !" 
 
 " Rather," added Mrs. Wilson, " the sad consequences of 
 one false step in generations gone by. Had your grand 
 mother listened to the voice of prudence and duty, she 
 never would have deserted her parents for a comparative 
 stranger, and entailed upon her descendants a train of evils 
 which yet exist in your person." 
 
 " It will be a sad blow to my poor uncle too," said Mrs. 
 Fitzgerald, " he who once loved me so much." 
 
 " When do you expect to see him ?" inquired Emily. 
 
 Julia informed them she expected him hourly; as, fearful a 
 written statement of her views would drive him from the 
 country without paying her a visit before he departed, she 
 had earnestly entreated him to see her without delay. 
 
 On taking their leave, the ladies promised to obey her 
 summons whenever called to meet the general, as Mrs. 
 Wilson thought she might be better able to give advice to a 
 friend, by knowing more of the character of her relatives, 
 than she could do with her present information. 
 
 One day intervened, and it was spent in the united society 
 of Lady Moseley and her daughters, while Sir Edward and 
 Francis rode to a neighboring town on business ; and on 
 the succeeding, Mrs. Fitzgerald apprised them of the arrival 
 of General M Carthy. Immediately after breakfast, Mrs. 
 Wilson and Emily drove to the cottage, the aunt both 
 wishing the latter as a companion in her ride, and believing 
 the excitement would have a tendency to prevent her niece 
 from indulging in reflections, alike dangerous to her peace 
 of mind and at variance with her duties. 
 
 Our readers have probably anticipated, that the stage 
 
300 PRECAUTION. 
 
 companion of John Moseley was the Spanish general, who 
 had just been making those inquiries into the manner of his 
 niece s living which terminated so happily in her acquittal. 
 With that part of her history which relates to the injurious 
 attempts on her before she arrived at Lisbon, he appears to 
 have been ignorant, or his interview with Denbigh might 
 have terminated very differently from the manner already 
 related. 
 
 A description of the appearance of the gentleman present 
 ed to Mrs. Wilson is unnecessary, as it has been given already ; 
 and the discerning matron thought she read through the 
 rigid and set features of the soldier, a shade of kinder 
 feelings, which might be wrought into an advantageous 
 intercession on behalf of Julia. The General was evidently 
 endeavoring to keep his feelings within due bounds, before 
 the decision of his niece might render it proper for him to 
 indulge in that affection for her, which his eye plainly show 
 ed existed under the cover of his assumed manner. 
 
 It was an effort of great fortitude on the part of Julia to 
 acquaint her uncle with her resolution ; but as it must be 
 done, she seized a moment after Mrs. Wilson had at some 
 length defended her adhering to her present faith, until 
 religiously impressed with its errors, to inform him such was 
 her unalterable resolution. He heard her patiently, and 
 without anger, but in visible surprise. He had construed 
 her summons to her house into a measure preparatory to 
 accepting his conditions ; yet he betrayed no emotion, after 
 the first expression of his wonder : he told her distinctly, a 
 renunciation of her heresy was the only condition on which 
 her father would own her either as his heiress or his child. 
 Julia deeply regretted the decision, but was firm ; and her 
 friends left her to enjoy uninterruptedly for one day, the 
 society of so near a relative. During this day every doubt 
 
PRECAUTION. 301 
 
 as to the propriety of her conduct, if any yet remained, was 
 removed by a relation of her little story to her uncle ; and 
 after it was completed, he expressed great uneasiness to 
 get to London again, in order to meet a gentleman he had 
 seen there, under a different impression as to his merits, 
 than what now appeared to be just. Who the gentleman 
 was, or what these impressions were, Julia was left to con 
 jecture, taciturnity being a favorite property in the 
 general. 
 
302 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 THE sun had just risen on one of the loveliest vales of 
 Caernarvonshire, as a travelling chaise and six swept up to 
 the door of a princely mansion, so situated as to command a 
 prospect of the fertile and extensive domains, the rental of 
 which filled the coffers of its rich owner, having a beautiful 
 view of the Irish channel in the distance. 
 
 Everything around this stately edifice bespoke the magni 
 ficence of its ancient possessors and the taste of its present 
 master. It was irregular, but built of the best materials, 
 and in the tastes of the different ages in which its various 
 parts had been erected ; and now in the nineteenth century 
 it preserved the baronial grandeur of the thirteenth, mingled 
 with the comforts of this later period. 
 
 The lofty turrets of its towers were tipt with the golden 
 light of the sun, and the neighboring peasantry had com 
 menced their daily labors, as the different attendants of the 
 equipage we have mentioned collected around it at the 
 great entrance to the building. The beautiful black horses, 
 with coats as shining as the polished leather with which 
 they were caparisoned, the elegant and fashionable finish of 
 the vehicle, with its numerous grooms, postillions, and foot 
 men, all wearing the livery of one master, gave evidence of 
 wealth and rank. 
 
 In attendance there were four outriders, walking leisurely 
 about, awaiting the appearance of those for whose comforts 
 and pleasures they were kept to contribute ; while a fifth, 
 who, like the others, was equipped with a horse, appeared to 
 
PRECAUTION. 303 
 
 bear a doubtful station. The form of the latter was athletic, 
 and apparently drilled into a severer submission than could 
 be seen hi the movements of the liveried attendants: his 
 dress was peculiar, being neither quite menial nor quite mili 
 tary, but partaking of both characters. His horse was hea 
 vier and better managed than those of the others, and by its 
 side was a charger, that was prepared for the use of no 
 common equestrian. Both were coal-black, as were all the 
 others of the cavalcade ; but the pistols of the two latter, and 
 housings of their saddles, bore the aspect of use and elegance 
 united. 
 
 The postillions were mounted, listlessly waiting the pleasure 
 of their superiors ; when the laughs and jokes of the menials 
 were instantly succeeded by a respectful and profound silence, 
 as a gentleman and lady appeared on the portico of the 
 building. The former was a young man of commanding sta 
 ture and genteel appearance ; and his air, although that of 
 one used to command, was softened by a character of bene 
 volence and gentleness, that might be rightly supposed to give 
 birth to the willing alacrity with which all his requests or 
 orders were attended to. 
 
 The lady was also young, and resembled her companion 
 both in features and expression, for both were noble, both 
 were handsome. The former was attired for the road ; the 
 latter had thrown a shawl around her elegant form, and by 
 her morning dress showed that a separation of the two was 
 about to happen. Taking the hand of the gentleman with 
 both her own, as she pressed it with fingers interlocked, the 
 lady said, in a voice of music, and with great affection, 
 
 " Then, my dear brother, I shall certainly hear from you 
 within the week, and see you next ?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied the gentleman, as he tenderly paid his 
 adieus ; then throwing himself into the chaise, it dashed from 
 
304 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the door, like the passage of a meteor. The horsemen fol 
 lowed ; the unridden charger, obedient to the orders of his 
 keeper, wheeled gracefully into his station ; and in an instant 
 they were all lost amidst the wood, through which the ioad 
 to the park gates conducted. 
 
 After lingering without until the last of her brother s fol 
 lowers had receded from her sight, the lady retired through 
 ranks of liveried footmen and maids, whom curiosity or 
 respect had collected. 
 
 The young traveller wore a gloom on his expressive fea 
 tures, amidst the pageantry that surrounded him, which 
 showed the insufficiency of wealth and honors to fill the sum 
 of human happiness. As his carriage rolled proudly up an 
 eminence ere he had reached the confines of his extensive 
 park, his eye rested, for a moment, on a scene in which 
 meadows, forests, fields waving with golden corn, comforta 
 ble farm-houses surrounded with innumerable cottages, were 
 seen, in almost endless variety. All these owned him for 
 their lord, and one quiet smile of satisfaction beamed on his 
 face as he gazed on the unlimited view. Could the heart of 
 that youth have been read, it would at that moment have 
 told a story very different from the feelings such a scene is 
 apt to excite ; it would have spoken the consciousness of well 
 applied wealth, the gratification of contemplating meritorious 
 deeds, and a heartfelt gratitude to the Being which had 
 enabled him to become the dispenser of happiness to so many 
 of his fellow-creatures. 
 
 " Which way, my lord, so early ?" cried a gentleman in a 
 phaeton, as he drew up, on his way to a watering place, to 
 pay his own parting compliments. 
 
 " To Eltringham, Sir Owen, to attend the marriage of my 
 kinsman, Mr. Denbigh, to one of the sisters of the mar 
 quess." 
 
PRECAUTION. 305 
 
 A few more questions and answers, and the gentlemen, 
 exchanging friendly adieus, pursued each his own course ; 
 Sir Owen Ap Rice pushing forward for Cheltenham, and the 
 Earl of Pendennyss proceeding to act as groomsman to his 
 cousin. 
 
 The gates of Eltringham were open to the admission of 
 many an equipage on the following day, and the heart of the 
 Lady Laura beat quick, as the sound of wheels, at different 
 times, reached her ears. At last an unusual movement in 
 the house drew her to a window of her dressing-room, and 
 the blood rushed to her heart as she beheld the equipages 
 which were rapidly approaching, and through the mist which 
 stole over her eyes she saw alight from the first, the Duke of 
 Derwent and the bridegroom. The next contained Lord 
 
 Pendennyss, and the last the Bishop of . Lady Laura 
 
 waited to see no more, but with a heart filled with terror, 
 hope, joy, and uneasiness, she threw herself into the arms of 
 one of her sisters. 
 
 " Ah !" exclaimed Lord Henry Stapleton, about a week 
 after the wedding of his sister, seizing John suddenly by the 
 arm, while the latter was taking his morning walk to the resi 
 dence of the dowager Lady Chatterton, " Moseley, you dissi 
 pated youth, in town yet : you told me you should stay but 
 a day, and here I find you at the end of a fortnight." 
 
 John blushed a little at the consciousness of his reason for 
 sending a written, instead of carrying a verbal report, of the 
 result of his journey, but replied, 
 
 " Yes, my friend Chatterton unexpectedly arrived, and so 
 and so " 
 
 " And so you did not go, I presume you mean," cried 
 Lord Henry, with a laugh. 
 
 " Yes," said John, " and so I stayed but where is Den 
 bigh?" 
 
306 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Where ? why with his wife, where every well-behaved 
 man should be, especially for the first month," rejoined the 
 sailor, gaily. 
 
 " Wife !" echoed John, as soon as he felt able to give 
 utterance to his words " wife ! is he married ?" 
 
 " Married," cried Lord Henry, imitating his manner, " are 
 you yet to learn that ? why did you ask for him ?" 
 
 "Ask for him!" said Moseley, yet lost in astonishment; 
 " but when how where did he marry my lord ?" 
 
 Lord- Henry looked at him for a moment with a surprise 
 little short of his own, as he answered more gravely : 
 
 " When ? last Tuesday ; how ? by special license, and 
 
 the Bishop of ; where ? at Eltringham : yes, my dear 
 
 fellow," continued he, with his former gaiety, " George is 
 my brother now and a fine fellow hft is." 
 
 " I really wish your lordship much joy," said John, strug 
 gling to command his feelings. 
 
 " Thank you thank you," replied the sailor ; " a jolly 
 time we had of it, Moseley. I wish, with all my heart, 
 you had been there ; no bolting or running away as soon 
 as spliced, but a regularly constructed, old-fashioned wed 
 ding ; all my doings. I wrote Laura that time was scarce, 
 and I had none to throw away on fooleries ; so dear, good 
 soul, she consented to let me have everything my own 
 way. We had Derwent and Pendennyss, the marquess, 
 Lord William, and myself, for groomsmen, and my three 
 sisters ah, that was bad, but there was no helping it 
 Lady Harriet Denbigh, and an old maid, a cousin of ours, 
 for bridesmaids ; could not help the old maid either, upon my 
 honor, or be quite certain I would." 
 
 How much of what he said Moseley heard, we cannot say ; 
 for had he talked an hour longer he would have been unin 
 terrupted. Lord Henry was too much engaged with hia 
 
PRECAUTION. 307 
 
 description to notice his companion s taciturnity or surprise, 
 and after walking a square or two together they parted ; the 
 sailor being on the wing for his frigate-at Yarmouth. 
 
 John continued his course, musing on the intelligence he 
 had just heard. That Denbigh could forget Emily so soon, 
 he would not believe, and he greatly feared he had been 
 driven into a step, from despair, that he might hereafter 
 repent of. The avoiding of himself was now fully explained ; 
 but would Lady Laura Stapleton accept a man for a husband 
 at so short a notice ? and for the first time a suspicion that 
 something in the character of Denbigh was wrong, mingled 
 in his reflections on his sister s refusal of his offers. 
 
 Lord and Lady Herriefield were on the eve of their depar 
 ture .for the continent (for Catherine had been led to the 
 altar the preceding week), a southern climate having been 
 prescribed as necessary to the bridegroom s constitution ; and 
 the dowager and Grace were about to proceed to a seat of 
 the baron s within a couple of miles of Bath. Chatterton 
 himself had his own engagements, but he promised to be 
 there in company with his friend Derwent within a fortnight j 
 the former visit having been postponed by the marriages hi 
 their respective families. 
 
 John had been assiduous in his attentions during the season 
 of forced gaiety which followed the nuptials of Kate ; and as 
 the dowager s time was monopolized with the ceremonials of 
 that event, Grace had risen greatly in his estimation. If 
 Grace Chatterton was not more miserable than usual, at what 
 she thought was the destruction of her sister s happiness, it 
 was owing to the presence and unconcealed affection of John 
 Moseley. 
 
 The carriage of Lord Herriefield was in waiting when John 
 rang for admittance. On opening the door and entering the 
 drawing-room, he saw the bride and bridegroom, with their 
 
308 PRECAUTION. 
 
 mother and sister, accoutred for an excursion amongst the 
 shops of Bond street : for Kate was dying to find a vent for 
 some of her surplus pin-money her husband to show his 
 handsome wife in the face of the world the mother to dis 
 play the triumph of her matrimonial schemes. And Grace 
 was forced to obey her mother s commands, hi accompanying 
 her sister as an attendant, not to be dispensed with at all in 
 her circumstances. 
 
 The entrance of John at that instant, though nothing more 
 than what occurred every day at that hour, deranged the 
 whole plan : the dowager, for a moment, forgot her resolution, 
 and forgot the necessity of Grace s appearance, exclaiming 
 with evident satisfaction, 
 
 " Here is Mr. Moseley come to keep you company, Grace ; 
 so, after all, you must consult your headach and stay at home. 
 Indeed, my love, I never can consent you should go out. I 
 not only wish, but insist you remain within this morning." 
 
 Lord Herriefield looked at his mother-in-law in some sur 
 prise, and threw a suspicious glance on his own rib at the 
 moment, which spoke as plainly as looks can speak, 
 
 " Is it possible I have been taken in after all !" 
 
 Grace was unused to resist her mother s commands, and 
 throwing off her hat and shawl, reseated herself with more 
 composure than she would probably have done, had not the 
 attentions of Moseley been more delicate and pointed of late 
 than formerly. 
 
 As they passed the porter, Lady Chatterton observed to 
 him significantly " Nobody at home, Willis." " Yes, my 
 lady," was the laconic reply, and Lord Herriefield, as he took 
 his seat by the side of his wife in the carriage, thought she 
 was not as handsome as usual. 
 
 Lady Chatterton that morning unguardedly laid the foun 
 dation of years of misery for her eldest daughter ; or rather 
 
PRECAUTION. 309 
 
 the foundations were already laid in the ill-assorted, and 
 heartless, unprincipled union she had labored with success to 
 effect. But she had that morning stripped the mask from 
 her own character prematurely, and excited suspicions in the 
 breast of her son-in-law, which time only served to confirm, 
 and memory to brood over. 
 
 Lord Herriefield had been too long in the world not to 
 understand all the ordinary arts of match-makers and match- 
 hunters. Like most of his own sex who have associated 
 freely with the worst part of the other, his opinions of female 
 excellences were by no means extravagant or romantic. 
 Kate had pleased his eye ; she was of a noble family ; young, 
 and at that moment interestingly quiet, having nothing par 
 ticularly in view. She had a taste of her own, and Lord 
 Herriefield was by no means in conformity with it ; conse 
 quently, she expended none of those pretty little arts upon 
 him which she occasionally practised, and which his experi 
 ence would immediately have detected. Her disgust he had 
 attributed to disinterestedness ; and as Kate had fixed her eye 
 on a young officer lately returned from France, and her mo 
 ther on a Duke who was mourning the death of a third wife, 
 devising means to console him with a fourth the Viscount 
 had got a good deal enamored with the lady, before either 
 she or her mother took any particular notice that there was 
 such a being in existence. His title was not the most ele- 
 rated, but it was ancient. His paternal acres were not 
 numerous, but his East-India shares were. He was not very 
 young, but he was not very old ; and as the Duke died of a 
 fit of the gout in his stomach, and the officer ran away with 
 a girl in her teens from a boarding-school, the dowager and 
 her daughter, after thoroughly scanning the fashionable world, 
 determined, for want of a better, that he would do. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that the mother and child held 
 
310 PRECAUTION. 
 
 any open communications with each other to this effect. The 
 delicacy and pride of both would have been greatly injured 
 by such a suspicion ; yet they arrived simultaneously at the 
 same conclusion, as well as at another of equa^ importance to 
 the completion of their schemes on the Viscount. It was 
 simply to adhere to the same conduct which had made him s 
 captive, as most likely to insure the victory. 
 
 There was such a general understanding between the two 
 it can excite no surprise that they co-operated harmoniously 
 as it were by signal. 
 
 For two people, correctly impressed with their duties and 
 responsibilities, to arrive at the same conclusion in the govern 
 ment of their conduct, would be merely a matter of course 
 and so with those who are more or less under the dominion 
 of the world. They will pursue their plans with a degree of 
 concurrence amounting nearly to sympathy ; and thus had 
 Kate and her mother, until this morning, kept up the mas 
 querade so well that the Viscount was as confiding as a 
 country Corydon. When he first witnessed the dowager s 
 management with Grace and John, however, and his wife s 
 careless disregard of a thing which appeared too much a 
 matter of course to be quite agreeable, his newly awakened 
 distrust approached conviction. 
 
 Grace Chatterton both sang and played exquisitely ; it 
 was, however, seldom she could sufficiently overcome her 
 desire, when John was an auditor, to appear to advantage. 
 
 As the party went down stairs, and Moseley had gone 
 with them part of the way, she threw herself unconsciously 
 on a seat, and began a beautiful song, that was fashionable 
 at the time. Her feelings were in consonance with the 
 words, and Grace was very happy both in execution and 
 voice. 
 
 John had reached the back of her seat before she was at 
 
PRECAUTION. 311 
 
 all sensible of his return, and Grace lost her self-command 
 immediately. She rose and took a seat on a sofa, and the 
 young man was immediately at her side. 
 
 " Ah, Grace," said John, the lady s heart beating high, 
 "you certainly do sing as you do everything, admirably." 
 
 " I am happy you think so, Mr. Moseley," returned Grace, 
 looking everywhere but in his face. 
 
 John s eyes ran over her beauties, as with palpitating 
 bosom and varying color she sat confused at the unusual 
 warmth of his language and manner. 
 
 Fortunately a remarkably striking likeness of the Dowager 
 hung directly over their heads, and John taking he r unre 
 sisting hand, continued, 
 
 " Dear Grace, you resemble your brother very much in 
 features, and what is better still, in character." 
 
 " I could wish," said Grace, venturing to look up, " to re 
 semble your sister Emily in the latter." 
 
 " And why not to be her sister, dear Grace ?" said he 
 with ardor. " You are worthy to become her sister. Tell 
 me, Grace, dear Miss Chatterton can you will you make 
 me the happiest of men ? may I present another inestimable 
 daughter to my parents ?" 
 
 As John paused for an answer, Grace looked up, and he 
 waited her reply in evident anxiety ; but she continued 
 silent, now pale as death, and now of the color of the rose, 
 and he added : 
 
 " I hope I have not offended you, dearest Grace : you are 
 all that is desirable to me ; my hopes, my happiness, are 
 centred in you. Unless you consent to become my wife, I 
 must be very wretched." 
 
 Grace burst into a flood of tears, as her lover, interested 
 deeply in their cause, gently drew her towards him. Hei 
 head sank on his shoulder, as she faintl^ whispered some- 
 
312 PRECAUTION. 
 
 thing that was inaudible, but which he did not fail to inter 
 pret into everything he most wished to hear. John was in 
 ecstasies. Every unpleasant feeling of suspicion had left 
 him. Of Grace s innocence of manoeuvring he never doubted, 
 but John did not relish the idea of being entrapped into 
 anything, even a step which he desired. An uninterrupted 
 communication followed ; it was as confiding as their 
 affections : and the return of the dowager and her children 
 first recalled them to the recollection of other people. 
 
 One glance of the eye was enough for Lady Chatterton. 
 She saw the traces of tears on the cheeks and in the eyes 
 of Grace, and the dowager was satisfied; she knew his 
 friends would not object ; and as Grace attended her to her 
 dressing-room, she cried on entering it, " Well, child, when 
 is the wedding to be ? You will wear me out with so much 
 gaiety." 
 
 Grace was shocked, but did not as formerly weep over 
 her mother s interference in agony and dread. John had 
 opened his whole soul to her, observing the greatest delicacy 
 towards her mother, and she now felt her happiness placed 
 in the keeping of a man whose honor she believed much 
 exceeded that of any other human being. 
 
PRECAUTION. 313 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXTT. 
 
 THE seniors of the party at Benfield Lodge were aL 
 assembled one morning in a parlor, when its master and tha 
 baronet were occupied in the perusal of the London papers. 
 Clara had persuaded her sisters to accompany her and 
 Francis in an excursion as far as the village. 
 
 Jane yet continued reserved and distant to most of her 
 friends ; while Emily s conduct would have escaped unnoticed, 
 did not her blanched cheek and wandering looks at times 
 speak a language not to be misunderstood. With all her 
 relatives she maintained the affectionate intercourse she had 
 always supported ; though not even to her aunt did the 
 name of Denbigh pass her lips. But in her most private 
 and humble petitions to God, she never forgot to mingle 
 with her requests for spiritual blessings on herself, fervent 
 prayers for the conversion of the preserver of her life. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson, as she sat by the side of her sister at their 
 needles, first discovered an unusual uneasiness in their 
 venerable host, while he turned his paper over and over, 
 as if unwilling or unable to comprehend some part of its 
 contents, until he rang the bell violently, and bid the servant 
 to send Johnson to him without a moment s delay. 
 
 " Peter," said Mr. Benfield doubtingly, " read that your 
 eyes are young, Peter ; read that." 
 
 Peter took the paper, and after having adjusted his spec 
 tacles to his satisfaction, he proceeded to obey his master s 
 injunctions ; but the same defect of vision as suddenly seized 
 the steward ai it had affected his master. He turned the 
 
 14 
 
314 PRECAUTION. 
 
 paper sideways, and appeared to be spelling the matter of 
 the paragraph to himself. Peter would have given his three 
 hundred a year to have had the impatient John Moseley at 
 hand, to relieve him from his task ; but the anxiety of Mr. Ben 
 field overcoming his fear of the worst, he inquired in 
 tremulous tone 
 
 " Peter ? hem ! Peter, what do you think ? " 
 
 " Why, your honor," replied the steward, stealing a look 
 at his master, " it does seem so indeed." 
 
 " I remember," said the master, " when Lord Gosford saw 
 the marriage of the countess announced he " 
 
 Here the old gentleman was obliged to stop, and rising 
 with dignity, and leaning on the arm of his faithful servant, 
 he left the room. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson immediately took up the paper, and her eye 
 catching the paragraph at a glance, she read aloud as 
 follows to her expecting friends : 
 
 " Married by special license, at the seat of the Most Noble 
 the Marquess of Eltringham, in Devonshire, by the Right 
 
 Rev. Lord Bishop of , George Denbigh Esq., Lieutenant 
 
 Colonel of his Majesty s regiment of dragoons, to the 
 
 Right Honorable Lady Laura Stapleton, eldest sister of the 
 Marquess. Eltringham was honored on the present happy 
 occasion with the presence of his grace of Derwent, and the 
 gallant Lord Pendennyss, kinsmen of the bridegroom, 
 and Captain Lord Henry Stapleton of the Royal Navy. 
 We understand that the happy couple proceed to Denbigh 
 Castle immediately after the honey-moon." 
 
 Although Mrs. Wilson had given up the expectation of 
 ever seeing her niece the wife of Denbigh, she felt an inde 
 scribable shock as she read this paragraph. The strongest 
 feeling was horror at the danger Emily had been in of 
 contracting an alliance with such a man. His avoiding the 
 
PRECAUTION. 315 
 
 ball, at which lie knew Lord Henry was expected, was 
 explained to her by this marriage ; for with John, she could 
 not believe a woman like Lady Laura Stapleton was to be won 
 in the short space of one fortnight, or indeed less. There was 
 too evidently a mystery yet to be developed, and she felt cer 
 tain one that would not elevate his character in her opinion. 
 
 Neither Sir Edward nor Lady Moseley had given up the 
 expectation of seeing Denbigh again, as a suitor for Emily s 
 hand, and to both of them this certainty of his loss was a 
 heavy blow. The baronet took up the paper, and after 
 perusing the article, he muttered in a low tone, as he wiped 
 the tears from his eyes, " Heaven bless him : I sincerely hope 
 she is worthy of him." Worthy of him, thought Mrs. Wil 
 son, with a feeling of indignation, as, taking up the paper, 
 she retired to her own room, whither Emily, at that moment 
 returned from her walk, had proceeded. As her niece must 
 hear this news, she thought the sooner the better. The 
 exercise, and the unreserved conversation of Francis and 
 Clara, had restored in some degree the bloom to the cheek 
 of Emily ; and Mrs. Wilson felt it necessary to struggle with 
 herself, before she could summon sufficient resolution to 
 invade the returning peace of her charge. However, having 
 already decided on her course, she proceeded to the discharge 
 of what she thought to be a duty. 
 
 " Emily, my child," she whispered, pressing her affection 
 ately to her bosom, " you have been all I could wish, arid 
 more than I expected, under your arduous struggles. But 
 one more pang, and I trust your recollections on this painful 
 subject will be done away." 
 
 Emily looked at her aunt in anxious expectation of what 
 was coming, and quietly taking the paper, followed tha 
 direction of Mrs. Wilson s finger to the article on the mar 
 riage of Denbigh. 
 
316 PRECAUTION. 
 
 There was a momentary struggle in Emily for self-com 
 mand. She was obliged to find support in a chair. The 
 returning richness of color, excited by her walk, vanished ; 
 but recovering herself, she pressed the hand of her anxious 
 guardian, and, gently waving her back, proceeded to her own 
 room. 
 
 On her return to the company, the same control of her 
 feelings which had distinguished her conduct of late, was 
 again visible ; and, although her aunt most narrowly watched 
 her movements, looks, and speeches, she could discern no 
 visible alteration by this confirmation of misconduct. The 
 truth was, that in Emily Moseley the obligations of duty 
 were so imperative, her sense of her dependence on Provi 
 dence so humbling and yet so confiding, that, as soon as 
 she was taught to believe her lover unworthy of her esteem, 
 that moment an insuperable barrier separated them. His 
 marriage could add nothing to the distance between them. 
 It was impossible they could be united ; and although a 
 secret lingering of the affections over his fallen character 
 might and did exist, it existed without any romantic expecta 
 tions of miracles in his favor, or vain wishes of reformation, 
 in which self was the prominent feeling. She might be said 
 to be keenly alive to all that concerned his welfare or move 
 ments, if she did not harbor the passion of love ; but it 
 showed itself in prayers for his amendment of life, and the 
 most ardent petitions for his future and eternal happiness. 
 She had set about, seriously and with much energy, the 
 task of erasing from her heart sentiments which, however 
 delightful she had found it to entertain in times past, were 
 now in direct variance with her duty. She knew that a 
 weak indulgence of such passions would tend to draw her 
 mind from, and disqualify her to discharge, those various 
 calls on her time and her exertions, which could alone enable" 
 
PRECAUTION. 317 
 
 her to assist others, or effect in her own person the great 
 purposes of her creation. It was never lost sight of by 
 Emily Moseley, that her existence here was preparatory to an 
 immensely more important state hereafter. She was conse 
 quently in charity with all mankind ; and if grown a little 
 more distrustful of the intentions of her fellow-creatures, it 
 was a mistrust bottomed in a clear view of the frailties of 
 our nature ; and self-examination was amongst the not unfre- 
 quent speculations she made on this hasty marriage of her 
 former lover. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson saw all this, and was soon made acquainted 
 by her niece in terms, with her views of her own condition ; 
 and although she had to, and did, deeply regret, that all her 
 caution had not been able to guard against deception, where 
 it was most important for her to guide aright, yet she was 
 cheered with the reflection that her previous care, with the 
 blessings of Providence, had admirably fitted her charge to 
 combat and overcome the consequences of their mistaken 
 confidence. 
 
 The gloom which this little paragraph excited, extended to 
 every individual in the family ; for all had placed Denbigh 
 by the side of John, in their affections, ever since his weighty 
 services to Emily. 
 
 A letter from John announcing his intention of meeting 
 them at Bath, as well as his new relation with Grace, relieved 
 in some measure this general depression of spirit. Mr. Ben- 
 field alone found no consolation in the approaching nuptials. 
 John he regarded as his nephew, and Grace he thought a 
 very good sort of young woman ; but neither of them were 
 beings of the same genus with Emily and Denbigh. 
 
 "Peter," said he one day, after they had both been expend 
 ing their ingenuity in vain efforts to discover the cause of 
 this so-much-desired marriage s being so unexpectedly frus- 
 
318 PRECAUTION. 
 
 trated, " have I not often told you, that fate governed these 
 things, in order that men might be humble in this life? 
 Now, Peter, had the Lady Juliana wedded with a mind con 
 genial to her own, she might have been mistress of Benfield 
 Lodge to this very hour." 
 
 " Yes, your honor but there s Miss Emmy s legacy." 
 
 And Peter withdrew, thinking what would have been the 
 consequences had Patty Steele been more willing, when he 
 wished to make her Mrs. Peter Johnson an association by 
 no means uncommon in the mind of the steward ; for if 
 Patty had ever a rival in his affections, it was in the person 
 of Emily Moseley, though, indeed, with very different degrees 
 and coloring of esteem. 
 
 The excursions to the cottage had been continued by Mrs. 
 Wilson and Emily, and as no gentleman was now in the 
 family to interfere with their communications, a general visit 
 to the young widow had been made by the Moseleys, includ 
 ing Sir Edward and Mr. Ives. 
 
 The Jarvises had gone to London to receive their children, 
 now penitent in more senses than one ; and Sir Edward 
 learnt with pleasure that Egerton and his wife had been 
 admitted into the family of the merchant. 
 
 Sir Edgar had died suddenly, and the entailed estates had 
 fallen to his successor the colonel, now Sir Harry ; but the 
 bulk of his wealth, being in convertible property, he had 
 given by will to his other nephew, a young clergyman, and 
 a son of a younger brother. Mary, as well as her mother, 
 were greatly disappointed, by this deprivation, of what they 
 considered their lawful splendor ; but they found great conso- 
 ation in the new dignity of Lady Egerton, whose greatest 
 wish now was to meet the Moseleys, in order that she might 
 precede them in or out of some place where such ceremonials 
 are observed. The sound of" Lady Egerton s carriage stops 
 
PRECAUTION. 319 
 
 the way," was delightful, and it never failed to be used on 
 all occasions, although her ladyship was mistress of only a 
 hired vehicle. 
 
 A slight insight into the situation of things amongst 
 them may be found in the following narrative of their 
 views, as revealed in a discussion which took place about 
 a fortnight after the reunion of the family under one 
 roof. 
 
 Mrs. Jarvis was mistress of a very handsome coach, the 
 gift of her husband for her own private use. After having 
 satisfied herself the baronet (a dignity he had enjoyed just 
 twenty-four hours) did not possess the ability to furnish his 
 lady, as she termed her daughter, with such a luxury, she 
 magnanimously determined to relinquish her own, in support 
 of the new-found elevation of her daughter. Accordingly, 
 a consultation on the alterations which were necessary took 
 place between the ladies " The arms must be altered, of 
 course," Lady Egerton observed, " and Sir Harry s, with 
 the bloody hand and six quarterings, put in their place; 
 then the liveries, they must be changed." 
 
 " Oh, mercy ! my lady, if the arms are altered, Mr. Jarvis 
 will be sure to notice it, and he would never forgive me ; 
 and perhaps " 
 
 " Perhaps what ?" exclaimed the new-made lady, with a 
 disdainful toss of her head. 
 
 " Why," replied the mother, warmly, " not give me the 
 hundred pounds he promised, to have it new-lined and 
 painted." 
 
 " Fiddlesticks with the painting, Mrs. Jarvis," cried the 
 lady with dignity : " no carriage shall be called mine that 
 does not bear my arms and the bloody hand." 
 
 " Why, your ladyship is unreasonable, indeed you are," 
 said Mrs. Jarvis, coaxingly; and then after a moment s 
 
320 PRECAUTION. 
 
 thought she continued, " is it the arms or the baronetcy you 
 want, my dear ?" 
 
 " Oh, I care nothing for the arms, but I am determined, 
 now I am a baronet s lady, Mrs. Jarvis, to have the proper 
 emblem of my rank." 
 
 " Certainly, my lady, that s true dignity : well, then, we 
 will put the bloody hand on your father s arms, and he will 
 never notice it, for he never sees such things." 
 
 The arrangement was happily completed, and for a few 
 days the coach of Mr. Jarvis bore about the titled dame, 
 until one unlucky day the merchant, who still went on 
 change when any great bargain in the stocks was to be 
 made, arrived at his own door suddenly, to procure a calcu 
 lation he had made on the leaf of his prayer-book the last 
 Sunday during sermon. This he obtained after some search. 
 In his haste he drove to his broker s in the carriage of his 
 wife, to save time, it happening to be in waiting at the 
 moment, and the distance not great. Mr. Jarvis forgot to 
 order the man to return, and for an hour the vehicle stood 
 in one of the most public places in the city. The conse 
 quence was, that when Mr. Jarvis undertook to examine into 
 his gains, with the account rendered of the transaction by 
 his broker, he was astonished to read, " Sir Timothy Jarvis, 
 Bart., in account with John Smith, Dr." Sir Timothy 
 examined the account in as many different ways as Mr. Ben- 
 field had examined the marriage of Denbigh, before he 
 would believe his eyes ; and when assured of the fact, he 
 immediately caught up his hat, and went to find the man 
 who had dared to insult him, as it were, in defiance of the 
 formality of business. He had not proceeded one square in 
 the city before he met a friend, who spoke to him by the title ; 
 an explanation of the mistake followed, and the quasi baronet 
 proceeded to his stables. Here by actual examination he 
 
PRECAUTION. 321 
 
 detected the fraud. An explanation with his consort fol 
 lowed ; and the painter s brush soon effaced the emblem of 
 dignity from the panels of the coach. All this was easy, 
 but with his waggish companions on Change and in the 
 city (where, notwithstanding his wife s fashionable propensi 
 ties, he loved to resort) he was Sir Timothy still. 
 
 Mr. Jarvis, though a man. of much modesty, was one of 
 great decision, and he determined to have the laugh on his 
 side. A newly purchased borough of his sent up an address 
 flaming with patriotism, and it was presented by his own 
 hands. The merchant seldom kneeled to his Creator, but 
 on this occasion he humbled himself dutifully before his 
 prince, and left the presence with a legal right to the 
 appellation which his old companions Had affixed to him 
 sarcastically. 
 
 The rapture of Lady Jarvis may be more easily imagined 
 than faithfully described, the Christian name of her husband 
 alone throwing any alloy into the enjoyment of her eleva 
 tion : but by a license of speech she ordered, and addressed 
 hi her own practice, the softer and more familial- appellation 
 of Sir Timo. Two servants were discharged the first week, 
 because, unused to titles, they had addressed her as mistress ; 
 and her son, the captain, then at a watering-place, was made 
 acquainted by express with the joyful intelligence. 
 
 All this time Sir Henry Egerton was but little seen 
 amongst his new relatives. He had his own engagements 
 and haunts, and spent most of his time at a fashionable 
 gaming house in the West End. As, however, the town 
 was deserted, Lady Jarvis and her daughters, having con 
 descended to pay a round of city visits, to show off her airs 
 and dignity to her old friends, persuaded Sir Timo that the 
 hour for their visit to Bath had arrived, and they were soon 
 comfortably settled in that city. 
 14* 
 
322 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Lady Chatterton and her youngest daughter had arrived 
 at the seat of her son, and John Moseley, as happy as the 
 certainty of love returned and the approbation of his friends 
 could make him, was in lodgings in the town. Sir Edward 
 notified his son of his approaching visit to Bath, and John 
 took proper accommodations for the family, which he occu 
 pied for a few days by himself as locum tenens. 
 
 Lord and Lady Herriefield had departed for the south of 
 France ; and Kate, removed from the scenes of her earliest 
 enjoyments and the bosom of her own family, and under 
 the protection of a man she neither loved nor respected, 
 began to feel the insufficiency of a name or of a fortune to 
 constitute felicity. Lord Herriefield was of a suspicious and 
 harsh temper, the first propensity being greatly increased 
 by his former associations, and the latter not being removed 
 by the humility of his eastern dependants. But the situation 
 of her child gave no uneasiness to the managing mother, 
 who thought her in the high-road to happiness, and was 
 gratified at the result of her labors. Once or twice, indeed, 
 her habits had overcome her caution so much as to endeavor 
 to promote, a day or two sooner than had been arranged, 
 the wedding of Grace ; but her imprudence was checked 
 instantly by the recoiling of Moseley from her insinuations 
 in disgust ; and the absence of the young man for twenty- 
 four hours gave her timely warning of the danger of such an 
 interference with one of such fastidious feelings. John 
 punished himself as much as the dowager on these occasions ; 
 but the smiling face of Grace, with her hand frankly placed 
 in his own at his return, never failed to do away the unplea 
 sant sensations created by her mother s care. 
 
 The Chatterton and Jarvis families met in the rooms, soon 
 after the arrival of the latter, when the lady of the knight, 
 followed by both her daughters, approached the dowager with 
 
PRECAUTION. 323 
 
 a most friendly salute of recognition. Lady Chatterton, 
 
 really forgetful of the persons of her B acquaintance, 
 
 and disliking the vulgarity of her air, drew up into an ap 
 pearance of great dignity, as she hoped the lady was well. 
 The merchant s wife felt the consciousness of rank too much 
 to be repulsed in this manner, and believing that the dowager 
 had merely forgotten her face, she added, with a simpering 
 smile, in imitation of what she had seen better bred people 
 practise with success 
 
 " Lady Jarvis my lady your ladyship don t remember 
 
 me Lady Jarvis of the Deanery, B , Northamptonshire, 
 
 and my daughters, Lady Egerton and Miss Jarvis." Lady 
 Egerton bowed stiffly to the recognising smile the dowager 
 now condescended to bestow ; but Sarah, remembering a cer 
 tain handsome lord in the family, was more urbane, deter 
 mining at the moment to make the promotion of her mother 
 and sister stepping-stones to greater elevation for herself. 
 
 " I hope my lord is well," continued the city lady. " I 
 regret that Sir Timo, and Sir Harry, and Captain Jarvis, are 
 not here this morning to pay their respects to your ladyship ; 
 but as we shall see naturally a good deal of each other, it 
 must be deferred to a more fitting opportunity." 
 
 ** Certainly, madam," replied the dowager, as, passing her 
 compliments with those of Grace, she drew back from so open 
 a conversation with creatures of such doubtful standing in the 
 fashionable world. 
 
324 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 ON taking leave of Mrs. Fitzgerald, Emily and her aunt 
 settled a plan of correspondence ; the deserted situation of 
 this young woman having ereated great interest in the breasts 
 of her new friends. General M Carthy had returned to Spam 
 without receding from his original proposal, and his niece was 
 left to mourn her early departure from one of the most 
 solemn duties of life. 
 
 Mr. Benfield, thwarted in one of his most favorite schemes 
 of happiness for the residue of his life, obstinately refused to 
 make one of the party at Bath ; and Ives and Clara having 
 returned to Bolton, the remainder of the Moseleys arrived at 
 the lodgings of John a very few days after the interview of 
 the preceding chapter, with hearts ill qualified to enter into- 
 the gaieties of the place, though, m obedience to the wishes 
 of Lady Moseley, to see and to be seen once more en that 
 great theatre of fashionable amusement. 
 
 The friends of the family who had known them in times 
 past were numerous, and were glad to renew their acquaint 
 ance with those they had always esteemed; so that they 
 found themselves immediately surrounded by a circle of 
 smiling faces and dashing equipages. 
 
 Sir William Harris, the proprietor of the deanery, and a 
 former neighbor, with his showy daughter, were amongst the 
 first to visit them. Sir William was a man of handsome 
 estate and unexceptionable character, but entirely governed 
 by the whims and desires of his only child. Caroline Harris 
 wanted neither sense nor beauty, but expecting a fortune, 
 
PRECAUTION. 325 
 
 she had placed her views too high. She at first aimed at the 
 peerage ; and while she felt herself entitled to suit her taste 
 as well as her ambition, had failed of her object by ill-con 
 cealed efforts to attain it. She had justly acquired the repu 
 tation of the reverse of a coquette or yet of a prude ; still she 
 had never received an offer, and at the age of twenty-six, had 
 now begun to lower her thoughts to the commonalty. Her 
 fortune would have easily obtained her husband here, but she 
 was determined to pick amongst the lower supporters of the 
 aristocracy of the nation. With the Moseleys she had been 
 early acquainted, though some years their senior ; a circum 
 stance, however, to which she took care never to allude unne- 
 
 The meeting between Grace and the Moseleys was tender 
 and sincere. John s countenance glowed with delight, as he 
 saw his future wife folded successively in the arms of those 
 he loved, and Grace s tears and blushes added twofold charms 
 to her native beauty. Jane relaxed from her reserve to 
 receive her future sister, and determined with herself to 
 appear hi the world, in order to show Sir Henry Egerton that 
 she did not feel the blow he had inflicted as severely as the 
 truth might have proved. 
 
 The Dowager found some little occupation, for a few days, 
 in settling with Lady Moseley the preliminaries of the wed 
 ding; but the latter had suffered too much through her 
 youngest daughters, to enter into these formalities with her 
 ancient spirit. All things were, however, happily settled ; and 
 Ives making a journey for the express purpose, John and 
 Grace were united privately at the altar of one of the prin 
 cipal churches in Bath. Chatterton had been summoned on 
 the occasion ; and the same paper which announced the nup 
 tials, contained, amongst the fashionable arrivals, the names 
 of the Duke of Derwent and his sister, the Marquess of 
 
326 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Eltringliam and sisters, amongst whom was to be found Lady 
 Laura Denbigh. Lady Chatterton carelessly remarked, in 
 presence of her friends, the husband of the latter was sum 
 moned to the death-bed of a relative, from whom he had great 
 expectations. Emily s color did certainly change as she lis 
 tened to this news, but not allowing her thoughts to dwell on 
 the subject, she was soon enabled to recall her serenity of 
 appearance. 
 
 But Jane and Emily were delicately placed. The lover 
 of the former, and the wives of the lovers of both, were in 
 the way of daily, if not hourly rencounters ; and it required 
 all the energies of the young women to appear with compo 
 sure before them. The elder was supported by pride, the 
 younger by principle. The first was restless, haughty, dis 
 tant, and repulsive. The last mild, humble, reserved, but 
 eminently attractive. The one was suspected by all around 
 her ; the other was unnoticed by any, but by her nearest and 
 dearest friends. 
 
 The first rencounter with these dreaded guests occurred at 
 the rooms one evening, where the elder ladies had insisted on 
 the bride s making her appearance. The Jarvises were there 
 before them, and at their entrance caught the eyes of the 
 group. Lady Jarvis approached immediately, filled with 
 exultation her husband with respect. The latter was re 
 ceived with cordiality the former politely, but with distance. 
 The young ladies and Sir Henry bowed distantly, and the 
 gentleman soon drew off into another part of the room : his 
 absence alone kept Jane from fainting. The handsome figure 
 of Egerton standing by the side of Mary Jarvis, as her 
 acknowledged husband, was near proving too much for her 
 pride, notwithstanding all her efforts ; and he looked so like the 
 imaginary being she had set up as the object of her worship, 
 that her heart was also in danger of rebelling. 
 
PRECAUTION. 327 
 
 * Positively, Sir Edward and my lady, both Sir Timo and 
 myself, and, I dare say, Sir Harry and Lady Egerton too, 
 are delighted to see you comfortably at Bath among us. 
 Mrs. Moseley, I wish you much happiness ; Lady Chatterton 
 too. I suppose your ladyship recollects me now ; I am 
 Lady Jarvis. Mr. Moseley, I regret, for your sake, that my 
 son Captain Jarvis is not here ; you were so fond of each 
 other, and both so loved your guns." 
 
 " Positively, my Lady Jarvis," said Moseley, drily, " my 
 feelings on the occasion are as strong as your own ; but I 
 presume the captain is much too good a shot for me by this 
 time." 
 
 " Why, yes ; he improves greatly in most things he under 
 takes," rejoined the smiling dame, " and I hope he will soon 
 learn, like you, to shoot with the Aarrows of Cupid. I hope 
 the Honorable Mrs. Moseley is well." 
 
 Grace bowed mildly, as she answered to the interroga 
 tory, and smiled at the thought of Jarvis put in competition 
 with her husband in this species of archery, when a voice 
 immediately behind where they sat caught the ears of the 
 whole party ; all it said was 
 
 " Harriet, you forgot to show me Marian s letter." 
 
 " Yes, but I will to-morrow," was the reply. 
 
 It was the tone of Denbigh. Emily almost fell from 
 her seat as it first reached her, and the eyes of all but 
 herself were immediately turned in quest of the speaker. 
 He had approached within a very few feet of them, 
 supporting a lady on each arm. A second look con 
 vinced the Moseleys that they were mistaken. It was not 
 Denbigh, but a young man whose figure, face, and air 
 resembled him strongly, and whose voice possessed the 
 same soft melodious tones which had distinguished that of 
 Denbigh. This party seated themselves within a very short 
 
328 PRECAUTION. 
 
 distance of the Moseleys, and they continued their conver 
 sation. 
 
 "You heard from the Colonel to-day, too, I believe," 
 continued the gentleman, turning to the lady who sat next to 
 Emily. 
 
 " Yes, he is a very punctual correspondent ; I hear every 
 other day." 
 
 " How is his uncle, Laura ?" inquired her female com 
 panion. 
 
 " Rather better ; but I will thank your grace to find the 
 Marquess and Miss Howard." 
 
 " Bring them to us," rejoined the other. 
 
 " Yes," said the former lady, with a laugh, " and Eltring- 
 ham will thank you too, I dare say." 
 
 In an instant the duke returned, accompanied by a gen 
 tleman of thirty and an elderly lady, who might have 
 been safely taken for fifty without offence to anybody but 
 herself. 
 
 During these speeches their auditors had listened with 
 almost breathless interest. Emily had stolen a glance which 
 satisfied her it was not Denbigh himself, and it greatly 
 relieved her ; but was startled at discovering that she was 
 actually seated by the side of his young and lovely wife. 
 When an opportunity offered, she dwelt on the amiable, 
 frank countenance of her rival with melancholy satisfaction ; 
 at least, she thought, he may yet be happy, and I hope 
 penitent. 
 
 It was a mixture of love and gratitude which prompted 
 this wish, both sentiments not easily got rid of when 
 once ingrafted in our better feelings. John eyed the stran 
 gers with a displeasure for which he could not account at 
 once, and saw, in the ancient lady, the bridesmaid Lord 
 Henry had so unwillingly admitted to that distinction. 
 
PRECAUTION. 329 
 
 Lady Jarvis was astounded with her vicinity to so much 
 nobility, and she drew back to her family to study its 
 movements to advantage ; while Lady Chatterton sighed 
 heavily, as she contemplated the fine figures of an unmarried 
 Duke and Marquess, and she without a single child to dis 
 pose of. The remainder of the party continued to view 
 them with curiosity, and listened with interest to what they 
 said. 
 
 Two or three young ladies had now joined the strangers, 
 attended by a couple of gentlemen, and the conversation 
 became general. The ladies declined dancing entirely, but 
 appeared willing to throw away an hour in comments on 
 their neighbors. 
 
 " William," said one of the young ladies, " there is your 
 old messmate, Col. Egerton," 
 
 " Yes, I observe him," replied her brother, " I see him ;" 
 but, smiling significantly, he continued, " we are messmates 
 no longer." 
 
 " He is a sad character," said the Marquess, with a 
 shrug. " William, I would advise you to be cautious of his 
 acquaintance." 
 
 "I thank you," replied Lord William, "but I believe I 
 understand him thoroughly." 
 
 Jane manifested strong emotion during these remarks, 
 while Sir Edward and his wife averted their faces from a 
 simultaneous feeling of self-reproach. Their eyes met, and 
 mutual concessions were contained in the glance ; yet their 
 feelings were unnoticed by their companions, for over the 
 fulfilment of her often repeated forewarnings of neglect and 
 duty to our children, Mrs. Wilson had mourned in sincerity, 
 but she had forgotten to triumph. 
 
 "When are we to see Pendennyss ?" inquired the Mar 
 quess ; " I hope he will be here with George I have a mind 
 
330 PRECAUTION. 
 
 to beat up his quarters in Wales this season what say you, 
 Derwent?" 
 
 " I intend it, if I can persuade Lady Harriet to quit the 
 gaieties of Bath so soon what say you, sister will you be 
 in readiness to attend me so early ?" 
 
 This question was asked in an arch tone, and drew the 
 eyes of her friends on the person to whom it was addressed. 
 
 " I am ready now, Frederick, if you wish it," answered 
 the sister hastily, and coloring excessively as she spoke. 
 
 " But where is Chatterton ? I thought he was here he 
 had a sister married here last week," inquired Lord William 
 Stapleton, addressing no one in particular. 
 
 A slight movement in their neighbors attracted the atten 
 tion of the party. 
 
 " What a lovely young woman," whispered the duke to 
 Lady Laura, " your neighbor is !" 
 
 The lady smiled her assent, and as Emily overheard it, 
 she rose with glowing cheeks, and proposed a walk round 
 the room. 
 
 Chatterton soon after entered. The young peer had 
 acknowledged to Emily that, deprived of hope as he had 
 been by her firm refusal of his hand, his efforts had been 
 directed to the suppression of a passion which could never 
 be successful ; but his esteem, his respect, remained in full 
 force. He did not touch at all on the subject of Denbigh, 
 and she supposed that he thought his marriage was a step 
 that required justification. 
 
 The Moseleys had commenced their promenade round the 
 room as Chatterton came in. He paid his compliments to 
 them as soon as he entered, and walked with their party. 
 The noble visitors followed their example", and the two par 
 ties met. Chatterton was delighted to see them, the Duke 
 was particularly fond of him ; and, had one been present of 
 
PRECAUTION. 331 
 
 sufficient observation, the agitation of his sister, the Lady 
 Harriet Denbigh, would have accounted for the doubts of 
 her brother as respects her willingness to leave Bath. 
 
 A few words of explanation passed ; the duke and his 
 friends appeared to urge something on Chatterton, who acted 
 as their ambassador, and the consequence was, an introduc 
 tion of the two parties to each other. This was conducted 
 with the ease of the present fashion it was general, and 
 occurred, as it were incidentally, in the course of the evening. 
 
 Both Lady Harriet and Lady Laura Denbigh were particu 
 larly attentive to Emily. They took their seats by her, and 
 manifested a preference for her conversation that struck Mrs. 
 Wilson as remarkable. Could it be that the really attractive 
 manners and beauty of her niece had caught the fancy of 
 these ladies, or was there a deeper seated cause for the desire 
 to draw Emily out, that both of them evinced ? Mrs. Wilson 
 had heard a rumor that Chatterton was thought attentive to 
 Lady Harriet, and the other was the wife of Denbigh ; was it 
 possible the quondam suitors of her niece had related to their 
 present favorites the situation they had stood in as regarded 
 Emily ? It was odd, to say no more ; and the widow dwelt 
 on the innocent countenance of the bride with pity and admi 
 ration. Emily herself was not a little abashed at the notice 
 of her new acquaintances, especially Lady Laura s ; but as 
 their admiration appeared sincere, as well as their desire to be 
 on terms of intimacy with the Moseleys, they parted, on the 
 whole, mutually pleased. 
 
 The conversation several times was embarrassing to the 
 baronet s family, and at moments distressingly so to their 
 daughters. 
 
 At the close of the evening they all formed one group at a 
 little distance from the rest of the company, and in a situation 
 to command a view of it. 
 
332 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Who is that vulgar-looking woman," said Lady Sarah 
 Stapleton, " seated next to Sir Henry Egerton, brother ?" 
 
 " No less a personage than my Lady Jarvis," replied the 
 marquess, gravely, " and the mother-in-law of Sir Harry, and 
 the wife to Sir Timo ;" this was said with a look of drol 
 lery that showed the marquess was a bit of a quiz 
 
 " Married !" cried Lord William, " mercy on the woman who 
 is Egerton s wife. He is the greatest latitudinarian amongst 
 the ladies, of any man in England nothing no, nothing 
 would tempt me to let such a man marry a sister of mine !" 
 
 Ah, thought Mrs* Wilson, how we may be deceived in 
 character, with the best intentions, after all ! In what are the 
 open vices of Egerton worse than the more hidden ones of 
 Denbigh ? 
 
 These freely expressed opinions on the character of Sir 
 Henry were excessively awkward to some of the listeners, to 
 whom they were connected with unpleasant recollections of 
 .duties neglected, and affections thrown away. 
 
 Sir Edward Moseley was not disposed to judge his fellow- 
 creatures harshly ; and it was as much owing to his philan 
 thropy as to his indolence, that he had been so remiss in his 
 attention to the associates of his daughters. But the veil once 
 -removed, and the consequences brought home to him through 
 his child, no man was more alive to the necessity of caution 
 on this important particular ; and Sir Edward formed many 
 salutary resolutions for the government of his future conduct, 
 in relation to those whom an experience nearly fatal in its 
 results had now greatly qualified to take care of themselves. 
 But to resume our narrative Lady Laura had maintained 
 with Emily a conversation, whfch was enlivened by occasional 
 remarks from the rest of the party, in the course of which the 
 nerves as well as the principles of Emily were put to a severe 
 trial. 
 
PRECAUTION. . 333 
 
 u My brother Henry," said Lady Laura, " who is a captain 
 in the navy, once had the pleasure of seeing you, Miss Mose- 
 ley, and in some measure made me acquainted with you 
 before we met." 
 
 "I dined with Lord Henry at L , and was much 
 
 indebted to his polite attentions in an excursion on the water," 
 replied Emily, simply. 
 
 " Oh, I am sure his attentions were exclusive," cried the 
 sister ; " indeed, he told us that nothing but want of time 
 prevented his being deeply in love he had even the audacity 
 to tell Denbigh it was fortunate for me he had never seen 
 you, or I should have been left to lead apes." 
 
 " And I suppose you believe him now," cried Lord Wil 
 liam, laughing, as he bowed to Emily. 
 
 His sister laughed in her turn, but shook her head, in the 
 confidence of conjugal affection. 
 
 " It is all conjecture, for the Colonel said he had never 
 enjoyed the pleasure of meeting Miss Moseley, so I will not 
 boast of what my powers might have done ; Miss Moseley," 
 continued Lady Laura, blushing slightly at her inclination to 
 talk of an absent husband, so lately her lover, u I hope to 
 have the pleasure of presenting Colonel Denbigh to you 
 soon." 
 
 " I think," said Emily, with a strong horror of deception, 
 and a mighty struggle to suppress her feelings, " Colonel 
 Denbigh was mistaken in saying that we had never met ; he 
 was of material service to me once, and I owe him a debt of 
 gratitude that I only wish I could properly repay." 
 
 Lady Laura listened in surprise ; but as Emily paused, she 
 could not delicately, as his wife, remind her further of thfe 
 obligation, by asking what the service was, and hesitating a 
 moment, continued 
 
 " Henry quite made you the subject of conversation 
 
334 PRECAUTION. 
 
 amongst us ; Lord Chatterton too, who visited us for a day, 
 was equally warm in his eulogiums. I really thought they 
 created a curiosity in the Duke and Pendennyss to behold 
 their idol." 
 
 "A curiosity that would be ill rewarded in its indul 
 gence," said Emily, abashed by the personality of the discourse. 
 
 " So says the modesty of Miss Moseley," said the Duke of 
 Derwent, in the peculiar tone which distinguished the softer 
 keys of Denbigh s voice. Emily s heart beat quick as she 
 heard them, and she was afterwards vexed to remember with 
 how much pleasure she had listened to this opinion of the 
 duke. Was it the sentiment, or was it the voice ? She, 
 however, gathered strength to answer, with a dignity that 
 repressed further praises : 
 
 "Your grace is willing to divest me of what little I 
 possess." 
 
 Pendennyss is a man of a thousand," continued Lady 
 Laura, with the privilege of a married woman. " I do wish 
 he would join us at Bath is there no hope, duke?" 
 
 " I am afraid not," replied his grace : " ke keeps himself 
 immured in Wales with his sister, who is as much of a hermit 
 as he is himself." 
 
 " There was a story of an inamorata in private some 
 where," cried the marquess ; " why at one time it was even 
 said he was privately married to her." 
 
 " Scandal, my lord," said the duke, gravely : ts Pendennyss 
 is of unexceptionable morals, and the lady you mean is 
 the widow of Major Fitzgerald, whom you knew. Penden 
 nyss never sees her, though by accident he was once of very 
 great service to her." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson breathed freely again, as she heard this ex 
 planation, and thought if the Marquess knew all, how differ 
 ently would he judge Pendennyss, as well as others. 
 
PRECAUTION. 335 
 
 " Oh ! I have the highest opinion of Lord Pendennyss," 
 cried the Marquess. 
 
 The Moseleys were not sorry that the usual hour of retiring 
 put an end to the conversation and their embarrassment. 
 
336 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 DURING the succeeding fortnight, the intercourse between 
 the Moseleys and their new acquaintances increased daily. 
 It was rather awkward at first on the part of Emily ; and her 
 beating pulse and changing color too often showed the alarm 
 of feelings not yet overcome, when any allusions were made 
 to the absent husband of one of the ladies. Still, as her 
 parents encouraged the acquaintance, and her aunt thought 
 the best way to get rid of the remaining weakness with 
 respect to Denbigh was not to shrink from even an interview 
 with the gentleman himself, Emily succeeded in conquering 
 her reluctance ; and as the high opinion entertained by Lady 
 Laura of her husband was expressed in a thousand artless 
 ways, an interest was created in her that promised in time 
 to weaken if not destroy the impression that had been made 
 by Denbigh himself. 
 
 On the other hand, Egerton carefully avoided all collision 
 with the Moseleys. Once, indeed, he endeavored to renew 
 his acquaintance with John, but a haughty repulse almost 
 produced a quarrel. 
 
 What representations Egerton had thought proper to make 
 to his wife, we are unable to say ; but she appeared to resent 
 something, as she never approached the dwelling or persons 
 of her quondam associates, although in her heart she was 
 dying to be on terms of intimacy with their titled friends. 
 Her incorrigible mother was restrained by no such or any 
 other consideration, and contrived to fasten on the Dowager 
 and Lady Harriet a kind of bowing acquaintance, which she 
 made great use of at the rooms. 
 
PRECAUTION. 337 
 
 The Duke sought out the society of Emily wherever he 
 could obtain it ; and Mrs. Wilson thought her niece admitted 
 his approaches with less reluctance than that of any other 
 of the gentlemen around her. At first she was surprised, 
 but a closer observation betrayed to her the latent cause. 
 
 Derwent resembled Denbigh greatly in person and voice, 
 although there were distinctions easily to be made on an 
 acquaintance. The Duke had an air of command and 
 hauteur that was never to be seen in his cousin. But his 
 admiration of Emily he did not attempt to conceal ; and, 
 as he ever addressed her in the respectful language and 
 identical voice of Denbigh, the observant widow easily per 
 ceived, that it was the remains of her attachment to the one 
 that induced her niece to listen, with such evident pleasure, 
 to the conversation of the other. 
 
 The Duke of Derwent wanted many of the indispensable 
 requisites of a husband, in the eyes of Mrs. "Wilson ; yet, as 
 she thought Emily out of all danger at the present of any 
 new attachment, she admitted the association, under no other 
 restraint than the uniform propriety of all that Emily said 
 or did. 
 
 " Your niece will one day be a Duchess, Mrs. Wilson," 
 whispered Lady Laura, as Derwent and Emily were running 
 over a new poem one morning, in the lodgings of Sir 
 Edward ; the former reading a fine extract aloud so strik 
 ingly in the air and voice of Denbigh, as to call all the 
 animation of the unconscious Emily into her expressive face. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson sighed, as she reflected on the strength of 
 those feelings which even principles and testimony had not 
 been able wholly to subdue, as she answered 
 
 " Not of Derwent, I believe. But how wonderfully the 
 Duke resembles your husband at times," she added, entirely 
 thrown off her guard. 
 
 15 
 
338 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Lady Laura was evidently surprised. 
 
 " Yes, at times lie does ; they are brothers children, you 
 know : the voice in all that connexion is remarkable. 
 Pendennyss, though a degree further off in blood, possesses 
 it ; and Lady Harriet, you perceive, has the same character 
 istic ; there has been some syren in the family, in days past." 
 
 Sir Edward and Lady Moseley saw the attention of the 
 Duke with the greatest pleasure. Though not slaves to the 
 ambition of wealth and rank, they were certainly no objec 
 tions in their eyes; and a proper suitor Lady Moseley 
 thought the most probable means of driving the recollection 
 of Denbigh from the mind of her daughter. The latter con 
 sideration had great weight in inducing her to cultivate an 
 acquaintance so embarrassing on many accounts. 
 
 The Colonel, however, wrote to his wife the impossibility 
 of his quitting his uncle while he continued so unwell, and 
 it was settled that the bride should join him, under the 
 escort of Lord William. 
 
 The same tenderness distinguished Denbigh on this occa 
 sion that had appeared so lovely when exercised to his 
 dying father. Yet, thought Mrs. Wilson, how insufficient 
 are good feelings to effect what can only be the result of 
 good principles. 
 
 Caroline Harris was frequently of the parties of pleasure, 
 walks, rides, and dinners, which the Moseleys were compelled 
 to join in ; and as the Marquess of Eltringham had given 
 her one day some little encouragement, she determined to 
 make an expiring effort at the peerage, before she conde 
 scended to enter into an examination of the qualities of 
 Capt. Jarvis, who, his mother had persuaded her, was an 
 Apollo, that had great hopes of being one day a Lord, as 
 both the Captain and herself had commenced laying up 
 a certain sum quarterly for the purpose of buying a title 
 
PRECAUTION. 339 
 
 hereafter an ingenious expedient of Jarvis s to get into his 
 hands a portion of the allowance of his mother. 
 
 Eltringham was strongly addicted to the ridiculous ; and 
 without committing himself in the least, drew the lady out 
 on divers occasions, for the amusement of himself and the 
 Duke who enjoyed, without practising, that species of 
 joke. 
 
 The collisions between ill-concealed art and as ill-con 
 cealed irony had been practised with impunity by the Mar 
 quess for a fortnight, and the lady s imagination began to 
 revel in the delights of a triumph, when a really respectable 
 offer was made to Miss Harris by a neighbor of her father s 
 in the country one she would rejoice to have received a 
 few days before, but which, in consequence of hopes created 
 by the following occurrence, she haughtily rejected. 
 
 It was at the lodgings of the Baronet that Lady Laura 
 exclaimed one day, 
 
 " Marriage is a lottery, certainly, and neither Sir Henry 
 nor Lady Egerton appears to have drawn a prize." 
 
 Here Jane stole from the room. 
 
 " Never, sister," cried the Marquess. " I will deny that. 
 Any man can select a prize from your sex, if he only knows 
 his own taste." 
 
 " Taste is a poor criterion, I am afraid," said Mrs. Wilson, 
 gravely, " on which to found matrimonial felicity." 
 
 " To what would you refer the decision, my dear 
 madam f inquired the Lady Laura. 
 
 " Judgment." 
 
 Lady Laura shook her hear doubtingly. 
 
 " You remind me so much of Lord Pendennyss ! Every- 
 thing he wishes to bring under the subjection of judgment 
 and principles." 
 
 " And is he wrong, Lady Laura ?" asked Mrs. Wilson, 
 
340 PRECAUTION. 
 
 pleased to find such correct views existed in one of whom 
 she thought so highly. 
 
 " Not wrong, my dear madam, only impracticable. - AVhat 
 do you think, Marquess, of choosing a wife in conformity to 
 your principles, and without consulting your tastes ?" 
 
 Mrs. Wilson shook her head with a laugh, and disclaimed 
 any such statement of the case ; but the Marquess, who 
 disliked one of John s didactic conversations very much, 
 gaily interrupted her by saying 
 
 " Oh ! taste is everything with me. The woman of my 
 heart against the world, if she suits my fancy, and satisfies 
 my judgment." 
 
 " And what may this fancy of your Lordship be ?" said 
 Mrs. Wilson, willing to gratify the trifling. " What kind 
 of a woman do you mean to choose ? How tall for 
 instance ?" 
 
 " Why, madam," cried the Marquess, rather unprepared 
 for such a catechism, and looking around him until the 
 outstretched neck and the eager attention of Caroline Harris 
 caught his eye, when he added with an air of great sim 
 plicity " about the height of Miss Harris." 
 
 " How old ?" asked Mrs. Wilson with a smile. 
 
 " Not too young, ma am, certainly. I am thirty-two my 
 wife must be five or six and twenty. Am I old enough, do 
 you think, Derwent ?" he added in a whisper to the Duke 
 
 " Within ten years," was the reply. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson continued 
 
 " She must read and write, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Why, faith," said the Marquess, " I am not fond of a 
 bookish sort of a woman, and least of all a scholar." 
 
 "You had better take Miss Howard," whispered his 
 brother. " She is old enough never reads and is just the 
 height" 
 
PRECAUTION. 341 
 
 " No, no, Will.," rejoined the brother. " Rather too old 
 that. Now, I admire a woman who has confidence in her 
 self. One that understands the proprieties of life, and has, 
 if possible, been at the head of an establishment before she 
 is to take charge of mine." 
 
 The delighted Caroline wriggled about in her chair, and, 
 unable to contain herself longer, inquired : 
 
 " Noble blood of course, you would require, my Lord ?" 
 
 " Why no ! I rather think the best wives are to be found 
 in a medium. I would wish to elevate my wife myself. A 
 Baronet s daughter for instance." 
 
 Here Lady Jarvis, who had entered during the dialogue, 
 and caught a clue to the topic they were engaged in, drew 
 near, and ventured to ask if he thought a simple knight too 
 low. The Marquess, who did not expect such an attack, 
 was a little at a loss for an answer ; but recovering himself 
 answered gravely, under the apprehension of another design- 
 on his person, that " he did think that would be forgetting 
 his duty to his descendants." 
 
 Lady Jarvis sighed, and fell back in disappointment ; while 
 Miss Harris, turning to the nobleman, in a soft voice, desired 
 him to ring for her carriage. As he handed her down, she 
 ventured to inquire if his lordship had ever met with such 
 a woman as he described. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Harris," he whispered, as he handed her into 
 the coach, " how can you ask me such a question ? You 
 are very cruel. Drive on, coachman." 
 
 " How, cruel, my Lord ?" said Miss Harris eagerly. " Stop, 
 John. How, cruel, my Lord ?" and she stretched her neck 
 out of the window as the Marquess, kissing his hand to her, 
 ordered the man to proceed. 
 
 " Don t you hear your lady, sir ?" 
 
 Lady Jarvis had followed them down, also with a view to 
 
342 PRECAUTION. 
 
 catch anything which might be said, having apologized for 
 her hasty visit ; and as the Marquess handed her politely 
 into her carriage, she also begged " he would favor Sir Timo 
 and Sir Henry with a call ;" which being promised, Eltring- 
 ham returned to the room. 
 
 " When am I to salute a Marchioness of Eltringham 2" 
 cried Lady Laura to her brother, " one on the new standard 
 set up by your Lordship." 
 
 " Whenever Miss Harris can make up her mind to the 
 sacrifice," replied the brother very gravely. " Ah me ! how 
 very considerate some of your sex are, for the modesty of 
 ours." 
 
 " I wish you joy with all my heart, my Lord Marquess," 
 exclaimed John Moseley. " I was once favored with the 
 notice of that same lady for a week or two, but a viscount 
 saved me from capture." 
 
 " I really think, Moseley," said the Duke innocently, but 
 speaking with animation, " an intriguing daughter worse 
 than a managing mother." 
 
 John s gravity for a moment vanished, as he replied in 
 a lowered key, 
 
 " Oh, much worse." 
 
 Grace s heart was in her throat, until, by stealing a glance 
 at her husband, she saw the cloud passing over his fine 
 brow ; and happening to catch her affectionate smile, his 
 face was at once lighted into a look of pleasantry. 
 
 " I would advise caution, my Lord. Caroline Harris has 
 the advantage of experience in her trade, and was expert 
 from the first." 
 
 " John John," said Sir Edward with warmth, " Sir 
 William is my friend, and his daughter must be respected." 
 
 " Then, baronet," cried the Marquess, " she has one recom 
 mendation I was ignorant of, and as such I am silent : but 
 
PRECAUTION. 34S 
 
 ought not Sir William to teach his daughter to respect her 
 self? I view these husband-hunting ladies as pirates on the 
 ocean of love, and lawful objects for any roving cruiser like 
 myself to fire at. At one time I was simple enough to 
 retire as they advanced, but you know, madam," turning to 
 Mrs. Wilson with a droll look, " flight only encourages 
 pursuit, so I now give battle in self-defence." 
 
 " And I hope successfully, my Lord," observed the Lady. 
 " Miss Harris, brother, does appear to have grown desperate 
 in her attacks, which were formerly much more masked 
 than at present. I believe it is generally the case, when a 
 young woman throws aside the delicacy and feelings which 
 ought to be the characteristics of her sex, and which teach 
 her studiously to conceal her admiration, that she either 
 becomes in time cynical and disagreeable to all around her 
 from disappointment, or persevering in her efforts, as it 
 were, runs a muck for a husband. Now in justice to the 
 gentlemen, I must say, baronet, there are strong symptoms 
 of the Malay about Caroline Harris." 
 
 " A muck, a muck," cried the marquess, as, in obedience 
 to the signal of his sister, he rose to withdraw. 
 
 Jane had retired to her own room in a mortification of 
 spirit she could ill conceal during this conversation, and she 
 felt a degree of humiliation which almost drove her to the 
 desperate resolution of hiding herself for ever from the 
 world. The man she had so fondly enshrined hi her heart 
 proving to be so notoriously unworthy as to be the subject 
 of unreserved censure in general company, was a reproach 
 to her delicacy, her observation, her judgment, that was the 
 more severe, from being true ; and she wept in bitterness 
 over her fallen happiness. 
 
 Emily had noticed the movement of Jane, and waited 
 anxiously for the departure of the visitors to hasten to her 
 
344 PRECAUTION. 
 
 room. She knocked two or three times before her sister 
 replied to her request for admittance. 
 
 " Jane, my dear Jane," said Emily, soothingly, " will you 
 not admit me ?" 
 
 Jane could not resist any longer the affection of her sister, 
 and the door was opened ; but as Emily endeavored to take 
 her hand, she drew back coldly, and cried 
 
 " I wonder you, who are so happy, will leave the gay 
 scene below for the society of an humbled wretch like me ;" 
 and overcome with the violence of her emotion, she burst 
 into tears. 
 
 " Happy !" repeated Emily, in a tone of anguish, " happy, 
 did you say, Jane ? Oh, little do you know my sufferings, 
 or you would never speak so cruelly !" 
 
 Jane, in her turn, surprised at the strength of Emily s 
 language, considered her weeping sister with commiseration ; 
 and then her thoughts recurring to her own case, she con 
 tinued with energy 
 
 " Yes, Emily, happy ; for whatever may have been the 
 reason of Denbigh s conduct, he is respected ; and if you do 
 or did love him, he was worthy of it. But I," said Jane, 
 wildly, "threw away my affections on a wretch a mere 
 impostor and I am miserable for ever." 
 
 " No, dear Jane," rejoined Emily, having recovered her 
 self-possession, "not miserable nor for ever* You have 
 many, very many sources of happiness yet within your 
 reach, even in this world. I I do think, even our strongest 
 attachments may be overcome by energy and a sense of 
 duty. And oh ! how I wish I could see you make the 
 effort." 
 
 For a moment the voice of the youthful moralist had 
 failed her ; bat anxiety in behalf of her sister overcame her 
 feelings, and she ended the sentence with earnestness. 
 
PRECAUTION. 345 
 
 " Emily," said Jane, with obstinacy, and yet in tears, 
 " you don t know what blighted affections are. To endure 
 the scorn of the world, and see the man you once thought 
 near being your husband married to another, who is showing 
 herself hi triumph before you, wherever you go !" 
 
 " Hear ine, Jane, before you reproach me further, and 
 then judge between us." Emily paused a moment to 
 acquire nerve to proceed, and then related to her astonished 
 sister the little history of her own disappointments. She 
 did not affect to conceal her attachment for Denbigh. With 
 glowing cheeks she acknowledged, that she found a necessity 
 for all her efforts to keep her rebellious feelings yet in 
 subjection ; and as she recounted generally his conduct to 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald, she concluded by saying, " But, Jane, I can 
 see enough to call forth my gratitude ; and although, with 
 yourself, I feel at this moment as if my affections were 
 sealed for ever, I wish to make no hasty resolutions, nor act 
 in any manner as if I were unworthy of the lot Providence 
 has assigned me." 
 
 " Unworthy ? no ! you have no reasons for self-reproach. 
 If Mr. Denbigh has had the art to conceal his crimes from 
 you, he did it to the rest of the world also, and has married 
 a woman of rank and character. But how differently are 
 we situated ! Emily I I have no such consolation." 
 
 " You have the consolation, my sister, of knowing there 
 is an interest made for you where we all require it most, 
 and it is there I endeavor to seek my support," said Emily, 
 in a low and humble tone. " A review of our own errors 
 takes away the keenness of our perception of the wrongs 
 done us, and by placing us in charity with the rest of the 
 world, disposes us to enjoy calmly the blessings within our 
 reach. Besides, Jane, we have parents whose happiness is 
 locked up in that of their children, and we should we must 
 15* 
 
346 PRECAUTION. 
 
 overcome the feelings which disqualify us for our common 
 duties, on their account." 
 
 " Ah !" cried Jane, " how can I move about in the world, 
 while I know the eyes of all are on me, in curiosity to dis- 
 cover how I bear my disappointments. But you, Emily, 
 are unsuspected. It is easy for you to affect a gaiety you 
 do not feel." 
 
 " I neither affect nor feel any gaiety," said her sister, 
 mildly. " But are there not the eyes of One on us, of 
 infinitely more power to punish or reward than what may be 
 found in the opinions of the world ? Have we no duties ? 
 For what is our wealth, our knowledge, our time given us, 
 but to improve for our own and for the eternal welfare of 
 those around us ? Come then, my sister, we have both been 
 deceived let us endeavor not to be culpable." 
 
 " I wish, from my soul, we could leave Bath," cried Jane. 
 " The place, the people are hateful to me !" 
 
 " Jane," said Emily, " rather say you hate their vices, and 
 wish for their amendment : but do not indiscriminately con- 
 demn a whole community for the wrongs you have sustained 
 from one of its members." 
 
 Jane allowed herself to be consoled, though by no means 
 convinced, by this effort of her sister ; and they both found 
 a relief by thus unburdening their hearts to each other, that 
 in future brought them more nearly together, and was of 
 mutual assistance in supporting them in the promiscuous 
 circles in which they were obliged to mix. 
 
 With all her fortitude and principle, one of the last things 
 Emily would have desired was an interview with Denbigh ; 
 and she was happily relieved from the present danger of it 
 by the departure of Lady Laura and her brother, to go to 
 the residence of the Colonel s sick uncle. 
 
 Both Mrs. Wilson and Emily suspected that a dread of 
 
PRECAUTION. 347 
 
 meeting them had detained him from his intended journey 
 to Bath ; and neither was sorry to perceive, what they con 
 sidered as latent signs of grace a grace of which Egerton 
 appeared entirely to be without. 
 
 " He may yet see his errors, and make a kind and affec* 
 ionate husband," thought Emily - } and then, as the image 
 of Denbigh rose in her imagination, surrounded with the 
 domestic virtues, she roused herself from the dangerous 
 reflection to the exercise of the duties in which she found a 
 refuge from unpardonable wishes. 
 
348 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 NOTHING material occurred for a fortnight after the de 
 parture of Lady Laura, the Moseleys entering soberly into 
 the amusements of the place, and Derwent and Chatterton 
 becoming more pointed every day in their attentions the 
 one to Emily, and the other to Lady Harriet ; when the 
 dowager received a pressing entreaty from Catherine to hasten 
 to her at Lisbon, where her husband had taken up his abode for 
 a time, after much doubt and indecision as to his place of 
 residence. Lady Herriefield stated generally in her letter, 
 that she was miserable, and that without the support of her 
 mother she could not exist under the present grievances ; 
 but what was the cause of those grievances, or what grounds 
 she had for her misery, she left unexplained. 
 
 Lady Chatterton was not wanting in maternal regard, and 
 she promptly determined to proceed to Portugal in the next 
 packet. John felt inclined for a little excursion with his 
 bride ; and out of compassion to the baron, who was in a 
 dilemma between his duty and his love (for Lady Harriet 
 about that time was particularly attractive), he offered his 
 services. 
 
 Chatterton allowed himself to be persuaded by the good- 
 natured John, that his mother could safely cross the ocean 
 under the protection of the latter. Accordingly, at the end 
 of the before mentioned fortnight, the dowager, John, Grace, 
 and Jane, commenced their journey to Falmouth. 
 
 Jane had offered to accompany Grace, as a companion in 
 her return (it being expected Lady Chatterton would remain 
 
349 
 
 in the country with her daughter) ; and her parents appreciat 
 ing her motives, permitted the excursion, with a hope it 
 would draw her thoughts from past events. 
 
 Although Grace shed a few tears at parting with Emily 
 and her friends, it was impossible for Mrs. Moseley to be long 
 unhappy, with the face of John smiling by her side; and 
 they pursued their route uninterruptedly. In due season 
 they reached the port of embarkation. 
 
 The following morning the packet got under weigh, and a 
 favorable breeze soon wafted them out of sight of their native 
 shores. The ladies were too much indisposed the first day 
 to appear on the deck ; but the weather becoming calm and 
 the sea smooth, Grace and Jane ventured out of the con 
 finement of their state-rooms, to respire the fresh air 
 above. 
 
 There were but few passengers, and those chiefly ladies 
 the wives of officers on foreign stations, on their way to join 
 their husbands. As these had been accustomed to moving in 
 the world, their disposition to accommodate soon removed 
 the awkwardness of a first meeting, and our travellers began 
 to be at home in their novel situation. 
 
 While Grace stood leaning on the arm of her husband, and 
 clinging to his support, both from affection and a dread of the 
 motion of the vessel, Jane ventured with one of the ladies to 
 attempt a walk round the deck of the ship. Unaccustomed 
 to such an uncertain foothold, the walkers were prevented 
 falling by the kind interposition of a gentleman, who for the 
 first time had shown himself among them at that moment. 
 The accident, and their situation, led to a conversation which 
 was renewed at different times during their passage, and in 
 some measure created an intimacy between our party and the 
 stranger. He was addressed br the commander of the vessel 
 as Mr. Harland; and Lady Chatterton exercised her inge- 
 
350 PRECAUTION. 
 
 nuity in the investigation of his history, by which she made 
 the following discovery : 
 
 The Rev. and Hon. Mr. Harland was the younger son of 
 an Irish earl, who had early embraced his sacred profession 
 in that church, hi which he held a valuable living in the gift 
 of his father s family. His father was yet alive, and then at 
 Lisbon with his mother and sister, in attendance on his elder 
 brother, who had been sent there hi a deep decline a couple 
 of months before. It had been the wish of his parents to 
 have taken all their children with them ; but a sense of duty 
 had kept the young clergyman in the exercise of his holy 
 office, until a request of his dying brother, and the directions 
 of his father, caused him to hasten abroad to witness the 
 decease of the one, and to afford all the solace within his 
 power to the others. 
 
 It may be easily imagined that the discovery of the rank 
 of their accidental acquaintance, with the almost certainty 
 that existed of his being the heir of his father s honors, in no 
 degree impaired his consequence in the eyes of the dowager ; 
 and it is certain, his visible anxiety and depressed spirits, his 
 unaffected piety, and disinterested hopes for his brother s 
 recovery, no less elevated him in the opinions of her com 
 panions. 
 
 There was, at the moment, a kind of sympathy between 
 Harland and Jane, notwithstanding the melancholy which 
 gave rise to it proceeding from such very different causes ; 
 and as the lady, although with diminished bloom, retained all 
 her personal charms, rather heightened than otherwise by 
 the softness of low spirits, the young clergyman sometimes 
 relieved his apprehensions of his brother s death by admitting 
 the image of Jane among his more melancholy reflections. 
 
 The voyage was tedious, and some time before it was ended 
 the dowager had given Grace an intimation of the probability 
 
PRECAUTION. 351 
 
 there was of Jane s becoming, at some future day, a countess 
 Grace sincerely hoped that whatever she became she would 
 be as happy as she thought all allied to John deserved to be. 
 
 They entered the bay of Lisbon early in the morning ; and 
 as the ship had been expected for some days, a boat came 
 alongside with a note for Mr. Harland, before they had an 
 chored. It apprised him of the death of his brother. The 
 young man threw himself precipitately into it, and was soon 
 employed in one of the loveliest offices of his vocation, that 
 of healing the wounds of the afflicted. 
 
 Lady Herriefield received her mother hi a sort of sullen 
 satisfaction, and her companions with an awkwardness she 
 could ill conceal. It required no great observation in the 
 travellers to discover, that their arrival was entirely unex 
 pected by the viscount, if it were not equally disagreeable ; 
 indeed, one day s residence under his roof assured them all 
 that no great degree of domestic felicity was an inmate of the 
 dwelling. 
 
 From the moment Lord Herriefield became suspicious that 
 he had been the dupe of the management of Kate and her 
 mother, he viewed every act of his wife with a prejudiced 
 eye. It was easy, with his knowledge of human nature, to 
 detect her selfishness and worlcTly-mindedness ; for as these 
 were faults she was unconscious of possessing, so she was 
 unguarded hi her exposure of them. But her designs, in a 
 matrimonial point of view, having ended with her marriage, 
 had the viscount treated, her with any of the courtesies due 
 her sex and station, she might, with her disposition, have 
 been contented in the enjoyment of rank and in the possession 
 of wealth; but then- more private hours were invariably 
 rendered unpleasant, by the overflowings of her husband s 
 resentment at having been deceived in his judgment of the 
 female sex. 
 
352 PRECAUTION. 
 
 There is no point upon which men are more tender than 
 their privilege of suiting themselves in a partner for life, 
 although many of both sexes are influenced in this important 
 selection more by the wishes and whims of others than is 
 usually suspected ; yet, as all imagine what is the result of 
 contrivance and management is the election of free will and 
 taste, so long as they are ignorant, they are contented. Lord 
 Herriefield wanted this bliss of ignorance; and, with con 
 tempt for his wife, was mingled anger at his own want of 
 foresight. 
 
 Very few people can tamely submit to self-reproach ; and 
 as the cause of this irritated state of mind was both not only 
 constantly present, but completely within his power, the 
 viscount seemed determined to give her as little reason to 
 exult in the success of her plans as possible. Jealous he 
 was, from temperament, from bad associations, and a want 
 of confidence in the principles of his wife, the freedom of 
 foreign manners having an additional tendency to excite 
 this baneful passion to an unusual degree. Abridged in her 
 pleasures, reproached with motives she was incapable of 
 harboring, and disappointed in all those enjoyments her 
 mother had ever led her to believe the invariable accompani 
 ments of married life, where proper attention had been paid 
 to the necessary qualifications of riches and rank, Kate had 
 written to the dowager with the hope her presence might 
 restrain, or her advice teach her, successfully to oppose the 
 unfeeling conduct of the viscount. - 
 
 Lady Chatterton never having implanted any of her 
 favorite systems in her daughter, so much by precept as by 
 the force of example in her own person, as well as by indi 
 rect eulogiums on certain people who were endowed with 
 those qualities and blessings she most admired, on the 
 present occasion Catherine did not unburden herself in terms 
 
PRECAUTION. 353 
 
 to her mother ; but by a regular gradation of complaints, 
 aimed more at the world than at her husband, she soon let 
 the knowing dowager see their application, and in the end 
 completely removed the veil from her domestic grievances. 
 
 The example of John and Grace for a short time awed 
 the peer into dissembling his disgust for his spouse ; but 
 the ice once broken, their presence soon ceased to affect 
 either the frequency or the severity of his remarks, when 
 under its influence. 
 
 From such exhibitions of matrimonial discord, Grace 
 shrank timidly into the retirement of her room, and Jane, 
 with dignity, would follow her example ; while John at times 
 became a listener, with a spirit barely curbed within the 
 bounds of prudence, and at others, he sought in the com 
 pany of his wife and sister, relief from the violence of his 
 feelings. 
 
 John never admired nor respected Catherine, for she 
 wanted those very qualities he chiefly loved in her sister ; 
 yet, as she was a woman, and one nearly connected with 
 him, he found it impossible to remain a quiet spectator of 
 the unmanly treatment she often received from her husband ; 
 he therefore made preparations for his return to England by 
 the first packet, abridging his intended residence hi Lisbon 
 more than a month. 
 
 Lady Chatterton endeavored all within her power to heal 
 the breach between Kate and her husband, but it greatly 
 exceeded her abilities. It was too late to implant such 
 principles in her daughter, as by a long course of self-denial 
 and submission might have won the love of the viscount, 
 had the mother been acquainted with them herself; so that ~ 
 having induced her child to marry with a view to obtafting 
 precedence and a jointure, she once more set to work to 
 undo part of hei former label s, by bringing about a decent 
 
354 PRECAUTION. 
 
 separation between the husband and wife, in such a manner 
 as to secure to her child the possession of her wealth, and 
 the esteem of the world. The latter, though certainly a 
 somewhat difficult undertaking, was greatly lessened by the 
 assistance of the former. 
 
 John and his wife determined to seize the opportunity to 
 examine the environs of the city. In one of these daily 
 rides, they met their fellow traveller, Mr. now Lord Harland. 
 He was rejoiced to see them again, and hearing of their 
 intended departure, informed them of his being about to 
 return to England in the same vessel his parents and sister 
 contemplating ending the winter in Portugal. 
 
 The intercourse between the two families was kept up 
 with a show of civilities between the noblemen, and much 
 real good- will on the part of the juniors of the circle, until 
 the day arrived for the sailing of the packet. 
 
 Lady Chatterton was left behind with Catherine, as yet 
 unable to circumvent her schemes with prudence ; it being 
 deemed by the world a worse offence to separate, than to 
 join together one s children hi the bands of wedlock. 
 
 The confinement of a vessel is very propitious to those 
 intimacies which lead to attachments. The necessity of 
 being agreeable is a check upon the captious, and the desire 
 to lessen the dulness of the scene a stimulus to the lively ; 
 and though the noble divine and Jane could not possibly be 
 ranked in either class, the effect was the same. The noble- 
 man was much enamored, and Jane unconsciously gratified. 
 It is true, love had never entered her thoughts in its direct 
 and unequivocal form; but admiration is so consoling to 
 those laboring under self-condemnation, and flattery of a 
 cer Ain kind so very soothing to all, it is not to be wondered 
 that she listened with increasing pleasure to the interesting 
 conversation of Harland on all occasions, and more par 
 
PRECAUTION. 355 
 
 ticularly, as often happened, when exclusively addressed to 
 herself. 
 
 Grace had of late reflected more seriously on the subject 
 of her eternal welfare than she had been accustomed to do 
 in the house of her mother ; and the example of Emily, 
 with the precepts of Mrs. Wilson, had not been thrown 
 away upon her. It is a singular fact, that more women feel 
 a disposition to religion soon after marriage than at any 
 other period of life ; and whether it is, that having attained 
 the most important station this life affords the sex, they are 
 more willing to turn their thoughts to a provision for the 
 next, or whether it be owing to any other cause, Mrs. Mose- 
 ley was included in the number. She became sensibly 
 touched with her situation, and as Harland was both devout 
 and able as well as anxious to instruct, one of the party, 
 at least, had cause to rejoice in the journey for the remainder 
 of her days. But precisely as Grace increased in her own 
 faith, so did her anxiety after the welfare of her husband 
 receive new excitement ; and John, for the first time, became 
 the cause of sorrow to his affectionate companion. 
 
 The deep interest Harland took in the opening conviction 
 of Mrs. Moseley, did not so entirely engross his thoughts as 
 to prevent the too frequent contemplation of the charms of 
 her friend for his own peace of mind ; and by the time the 
 vessel reached Faimouth, he had determined to make a 
 tender of his hand and title to the acceptance of Miss Mose 
 ley. Jane did not love Egerton; on the contrary, she 
 despised him ; but the time had been, when all her romantic 
 feelings, every thought of her brilliant imagination, had been 
 filled with his image, and Jane felt it a species of indelicacy 
 to admit the impression of another so soon, or even at all. 
 These objections would, in time, have been overcome, as her 
 affections became more and more enlisted on behalf of 
 
356 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Harland, had she admitted his addresses ; but there was an 
 impediment that Jane considered insurmountable to a union 
 with any man. 
 
 She had once communicated her passion to its object. 
 There had been the confidence of approved love ; and she had 
 now no heart for Harland, but one that had avowedly been 
 a slave to another. To conceal this from him would be 
 unjust, and not reconcilable to good faith; to confess it, 
 humiliating, and without the pale of probability. It was the 
 misfortune of Jane to keep the world too constantly before 
 her, and to lose sight too much of her really depraved nature, 
 to relish the idea of humbling herself so low in the opinion of 
 a fellow-creature. The refusal of Harland s offer was the 
 consequence, although she had begun to feel an esteem for 
 him, that would no doubt have given rise to an attachment 
 in time, far stronger and more deeply seated than her passing 
 fancy for Colonel Egerton had been. 
 
 If the horror of imposing on the credulity of Harland a 
 wounded heart, was creditable to Jane, and showed an ele 
 vation of character that under proper guidance would have 
 placed her in the first ranks of her sex ; the pride which con 
 demned her to a station nature did not design her for was 
 irreconcilable with the humility a just view of her condition 
 could not fail to produce j and the second sad consequence 
 of the indulgent weakness of her parents, was confirming 
 their child in passions directly at variance with the first duties 
 of a Christian. 
 
 We have so little right to value ourselves on anything, 
 that pride is a sentiment of very doubtful service, and one, 
 certainly, that is unable to effect any useful results which will 
 not equally flow from good principles. 
 
 Harland was disappointed and grieved, but prudently 
 judging that occupation and absence would remove recollec 
 
PRECAUTION. 357 
 
 tions which could not be very deep, they parted at Falmouth, 
 
 and our travellers proceeded on their journey for B , 
 
 whither, during their absence, Sir Edward s family had 
 returned to spend a month, before they removed to town for 
 the residue of the winter. 
 
 The meeting of the two parties was warm and tender, and 
 as Jane had many things to recount, and "John as many to 
 laugh at, their arrival threw a gaiety around Moseley Hall to 
 which it had for months been a stranger. 
 
 One of the first acts of Grace, after her return, was to enter 
 strictly into the exercise of all those duties and ordinances 
 required by her church, and the present state of her mind, 
 and from the hands of Dr. Ives she received her first com 
 munion at the altar. 
 
 As the season had now become far advanced, and the 
 fashionable world had been some time assembled in the me 
 tropolis, the Baronet commenced his arrangements to take 
 possession of his town-house, after an interval of nineteen 
 years. John proceeded to the capital first ; and the necessary 
 domestics procured, furniture supplied, and other arrange 
 ments usual to the appearance of a wealthy family in the 
 world having been completed, he returned with the informa 
 tion that all was ready for their triumphal entrance. 
 
 Sir Edward, feeling that a separation for so long a time, 
 and at such an unusual distance, in the very advanced age of 
 Mr. Benfield, would be improper, paid him a visit, with the 
 intention of persuading him to make one of his family for the 
 next four months. Emily was his companion, and their soli 
 citations were happily crowned with a success they had not 
 anticipated. Averse to be deprived of Peter s society, the 
 honest steward was included in the party. 
 
 " Nephew/* said Mr. Benfield, beginning to waver in his 
 objections to the undertaking, as the arguments pro and con 
 
358 PRECAUTION. 
 
 were produced, "there are instances of gentlemen, not in 
 parliament, going to town in the winter, I know. You are 
 one yourself; and old Sir John Cowel, who never could get 
 in, although he ran for every city in the kingdom, never 
 missed his winter in Soho. Yes, yes the thing is admis 
 sible but had I known your wishes before, I would cer 
 tainly have kept my borough if it were only for the appear 
 ance of the thing besides," continued the old man, shaking 
 his head, " his majesty s ministers require the aid of some 
 more experienced members in these critical times ; for what 
 should an old man like me do in Westminster, unless it were 
 to aid his country with his advice ?" 
 
 " Make his friends happy with his company, dear uncle," 
 said Emily, taking his hand between both her own, and 
 smiling affectionately on the old gentleman as she spoke. 
 
 " Ah ! Emmy dear !" cried Mr. Benfield, looking on her 
 with melancholy pleasure, "you are not to be resisted 
 just such another as the sister of my old friend Lord Gos- 
 ford ; she could always coax me out of anything. I remem 
 ber now, I heard the earl tell her once he could not afford 
 to buy a pair of diamond ear-rings ; and she looked only 
 looked did not speak ! Emmy ! that I bought them with 
 intent to present them to her myself." 
 
 " And did she take them, uncle ?" asked his niece, in a 
 little surprise. 
 
 " Oh yes ! When I told her if she did not I would throw 
 them into the river, as no one else should wear what had 
 been intended for her ; poor soul ! how delicate and unwil 
 ling she was. I had to convince her they cost three hundred 
 pounds, before she would listen to it ; and then she thought 
 it such a pity to throw away a thing of so much value. It 
 would have been wicked, you know, Emmy, dear ; and she 
 was much opposed to wickedness and sin in any shape. * 
 
PRECAUTION. 359 
 
 " She must have been a very unexceptionable character 
 indeed," cried the Baronet, with a, niie, as V* proceeded to 
 make the necessary orders for thnir journo^. ^lat we must 
 return to the party left at Bath 
 
PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXYL 
 
 THE letters of Lady Laura informed her friends, that she 
 and Colonel Denbigh had decided to remain with his uncle 
 until the recovery of the latter was complete, and then to 
 proceed to Denbigh Castle, to meet the Duke and his sister 
 during the approaching holidays. 
 
 Emily was much relieved by this postponement of an inter 
 view which she would gladly have avoided for ever; and 
 her aunt sincerely rejoiced that her niece was allowed more 
 time to eradicate impressions, which, she saw with pain, her 
 charge had yet a struggle to overcome. 
 
 There were so many points to admire in the character of 
 Denbigh ; his friends spoke of him with such decided par 
 tiality ; Dr. Ives, in his frequent letters, alluded to him with so 
 much affection ; that Emily frequently detected herself in 
 weighing the testimony of his guilt, and indulging the expec 
 tation that circumstances had deceived them all in their 
 judgment of his conduct. Then his marriage would cross 
 her mind ; and with the conviction of the impropriety of 
 admitting him to her thoughts at all, would come the mass 
 of circumstantial testimony which had accumulated against 
 him. 
 
 Derwent served greatly to keep alive the recollections of 
 his person, however ; and as Lady Harriet seemed to live 
 only in the society of the Moseleys, not a day passed without 
 giving the Duke some opportunity of indirectly preferring 
 his suit. 
 
 Emily not only appeared, but in fact was, unconscious of 
 
PRECAUTION. 36 1 
 
 his admiration ; and entered into their amusements with a 
 satisfaction thai was increased by the belief that the unfortu 
 nate attachment her cousin Chatterton had once professed for 
 herself, was forgotten in the more certain enjoyments of a 
 successful love. 
 
 Lady Harris t was a woman of manners and character very 
 different from Emily Moseley ; yet had she in a great mea 
 sure erased the impressions made by the beauty of his kins 
 woman from the bosom of the baron. 
 
 Chatterton, under the depression of his first disappoint 
 ment, it will be remembered, had left B in company 
 
 with Mr. Denbigh. The interest of the duke had been unac 
 countably exerted to procure him the place he had so long 
 solicited in vi?in, and gratitude required his early acknow 
 ledgments for the favor. His manner, so very different from 
 a successful applicant for a valuable office, had struck both 
 Derwent and his sister as singular. Before, however, a week s 
 intercourse had passed between them, his own frankness had 
 made them acquainted with the cause ; and a double wish 
 prevailed in the bosom of Lady Harriet, to know the woman 
 who could resist the beauty of Chatterton, and to relieve him 
 from the weight imposed on his spirits by disappointed 
 affection. 
 
 The manners of Lady Harriet Denbigh were not in the 
 least forward or masculine ; but they had the freedom of high 
 rank, mingled with a good deal of the ease of fashionable life. 
 Mrs. Wilson noticed, moreover, in her conduct to Chatterton, 
 a something exceeding the interest of ordinary communica 
 tions in their situation, which might possibly have been attri 
 buted more to feeling than to manner. It is certain, one of 
 the surest methods to drive Emily from his thoughts, was to 
 dwell on the perfections of some other lady ; and Lady Har 
 riet was so constantly before him in his visit into Westmore- 
 16 
 
362 PRECAUTION. 
 
 land, so soothing, so evidently pleased with his presence, that 
 the baron made rapid advances in attaining his object. 
 
 He had alluded, in his letter to Emily, to the obligation he 
 was under to the services of Denbigh, in erasing his unfortu 
 nate partiality for her : but what those services were, we are 
 unable to say, unless they were the usual arguments of the 
 plainest good sense, enforced in the singularly insinuating and 
 kind manner which distinguished that gentleman. In fact, 
 Lord Chatterton was not formed by nature to love long, de 
 prived of hope, or to resist long the flattery of a preference 
 from such a woman as Harriet Denbigh. 
 
 On the other hand, Derwent was warm in his encomiums 
 on Emily to all but herself; and Mrs. Wilson again thought 
 it prudent to examine into the state of her feelings, in order 
 to discover if there was any danger of his unremitted efforts 
 dra>ying Emily into a connexion that neither her religion nor 
 prudence could wholly approve. 
 
 Derwent was a man of the world a Christian only in 
 name ; and the cautious widow determined to withdraw in 
 season, should she find grounds for her apprehensions. 
 
 About ten days after the departure of the Dowager and 
 her companions, Lady Harriet exclaimed, in one of her morn 
 ing visits 
 
 Lady Moseley ! I have now hopes of presenting to you 
 soon the most polished man in the United Kingdom !" 
 
 " As a husband ! Lady Harriet ?" inquired the other, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " Oh, no ! only as a cousin, a second cousin ! madam !" 
 replied Lady Harriet, blushing a little, and looking in the 
 opposite direction to the one in which Chatterton was placed. 
 
 " But his name ? You forget our curiosity ! What is his 
 name ?" cried Mrs. Wilson, entering into the trifling for the 
 moment 
 
PRECAUTION. 363 
 
 " Pendermyss, to be sure, my dear madam : whom else can 
 I mean ?" 
 
 " And you expect the earl at Bath 7" Mrs. Wilson eagerly 
 inquired. 
 
 " He has given us such hopes, and Derwent has written 
 him to-day, pressing the journey." 
 
 " You will be disappointed, I am afraid, sister," said the 
 duke. " Pendennyss has become so fond of Wales of late, 
 that it is difficult to get him out of it." 
 
 " But," said Mrs. Wilson, " he will take his seat in parlia 
 ment during the winter, my lord ?" 
 
 " I hope he will, madam ; though Lord Eltringham holds 
 his proxies, in my absence, in all important questions before 
 the house." 
 
 " Your grace will attend, I trust," said Sir Edward. " The 
 pleasure of your company is among my expected enjoyments 
 in the town." 
 
 " You are very good, Sir Edward," replied the duke, look 
 ing at Emily. " It will somewhat depend on circumstances, 
 I believe." 
 
 Lady Harriet smiled, and the speech seemed understood 
 by all but the lady most concerned in it. 
 
 " Lord Pendennyss is a universal favorite, and deservedly 
 so," cried the duke. " He has set an example to the nobi 
 lity, which few are equal to imitate. An only son, with an 
 immense estate, he has devoted himself to the profession of a 
 soldier, and gained great reputation by it in the world ; nor 
 has he neglected any of his private duties as a man " 
 
 " Or a Christian, I hope," said Mrs. Wil-son, delighted 
 with the praises of the earl. 
 
 " Nor of a Christian, I believe," continued the duke ; " he 
 appears consistent, humble, and sincere three requisites, 1 
 believe, for that character." 
 
364 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Does not your grace know ?" said Emily, with a benevo 
 lent smile 
 
 Derwent colored slightly as he answered 
 
 "Not as well as I ought; but" lowering his voice for 
 her ear alone, he added, " under proper instruction I think I 
 might learn." 
 
 " Then I would recommend that book to you, my lord/ 
 rejoined Emily, with a blush, pointing to a pocket Bible 
 which lay near her, though still ignorant of the allusion he 
 meant to convey. 
 
 " May I ask the honor of an audience of Miss Moseley," 
 said Derwent, in the same low tone, " whenever her leisure 
 will admit of her granting the favor ?" 
 
 Emily was surprised ; but from the previous conversation 
 and the current of her thoughts at the moment, supposing 
 his communication had some reference to the subject before 
 them, she rose from her chair, and unobtrusively, but cer 
 tainly with an air of perfect innocence and composure, she 
 went into the adjoining room, the door of which was open 
 very near them. 
 
 Caroline Harris had abandoned all ideas of a coronet 
 with the departure of the Marquess of Eltringham and his 
 sisters for their own seat ; and as a final effort of her fading 
 charms, had begun to calculate the capabilities of Captain 
 Jarvis,who had at this time honored Bath with his company. 
 
 It is true, the lady would have greatly preferred her 
 father s neighbor, but that was an irretrievable step. He 
 had retired, disgusted with her haughty dismissal of his 
 hopes, and was a man who, although he greatly admired 
 her fortune, was not to be recalled by any beck or smile 
 which might grow out of caprice. 
 
 Lady Jarvis had, indeed, rather magnified the personal 
 
PRECAUTION. 365 
 
 qualifications of her son ; but the disposition they had mani 
 fested to devote some of their surplus wealth to purchasing 
 a title, had great weight, for Miss Harris would cheerfully, 
 at any time, have sacrificed one half her own fortune to be 
 called my lady. Jar vis would make but a shabby-looking 
 lord, tis true ; but then what a lord s wife would she not 
 make herself ! His father was a merchant, to be sure, but 
 then merchants were always immensely rich, and a few 
 thousand pounds, properly applied, might make the mer 
 chant s son a baron. She therefore resolved to inquire, the 
 first opportunity, into the condition of the sinking fund of his 
 plebeianism, and had serious thoughts of contributing her 
 mite towards the advancement of the desired object, did she 
 find it within the bounds of probable success. 
 
 An occasion soon offered, by the invitation of the Captain 
 to accompany him in an excursion in the tilbury of his 
 brother-in-law. 
 
 In this ride they passed the equipages of Lady Harriet 
 and Mrs. Wilson, with their respective mistresses, taking an 
 airing. In passing the latter, Jarvis bowed (for he had 
 renewed his acquaintance at the rooms, without daring to 
 visit at the lodgings of Sir Edward), and Miss Harris saw 
 both parties as they dashed by them. 
 
 "You know the Moseleys, Caroline?" said Jarvis, with 
 the freedom her manners had established between them. 
 
 " Yes," replied the lady, drawing her head back from a 
 view of the carriages ; " what fine arms those of the Duke s 
 are and the coronet, it is so noble so rich I am sure if I 
 were a man," laying great emphasis on the word " I would 
 be a Lord." 
 
 " If you could, you mean," cried the captain. 
 
 " Could why money will buy a title, you know only 
 most people are fonder of their cash than of honor." 
 
366 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " That s right," said the unreflecting captain ; " money is 
 the thing, after all. Now what do you suppose our last 
 mess-bill came to ? * 
 
 " Oh, don t talk of eating and drinking," cried Miss Harris, 
 in affected aversion; "is it beneath the consideration of 
 nobility." 
 
 " Then any one may be a lord for me," said Jarvis, drily, 
 " if they are not to eat and drink ; why, what do they live 
 for, but such sort of things !" 
 
 " A soldier lives to fight and gain honor and distinction" 
 for his wife Miss Harris would have added, had she 
 spoken all she thought. 
 
 " A poor way that of spending a man s time," said the 
 Captain. " Now there is Captain Jones in our regiment ; 
 they say he loves fighting as much as eating : if he do, he is 
 a bloodthirsty fellow." 
 
 " You know how intimate I am with your dear mother," 
 continued the lady, bent on the principal object ; " she has 
 made me acquainted with her greatest wish." 
 
 " Her greatest wish !" cried the Captain, in astonishment ; 
 " why, what can that be ? a new coach and horses ?" 
 
 " No, I mean one much dearer to us I should say, to 
 her, than any such trifles : she has told me of the plan" 
 
 " Plan !" said Jarvis, still in wonder, * what plan ?" 
 
 " About the fund for the peerage, you know. Of course, 
 the thing is sacred with me, as, indeed, I am equally inte 
 rested with you all in its success." 
 
 Jarvis eyed her with a knowing look, and as she concluded, 
 rolling his eyes in an expression of significance, he said 
 
 " What, serve Sir William some such way, eh ?" 
 
 " I will assist a little, if it be necessary, Henry," said the 
 lady, tenderly, " although my mite cannot amount to a great 
 deal." 
 
PRECAUTION. 367 
 
 During this speech, the Captain was wondering what she 
 could mean ; but, having had a suspicion, from something 
 that had fallen from his mother, that the lady was intended 
 for him as a wife, and that she might be as great a dupe as 
 Lady Jarvis herself, he was resolved to know the whole, and 
 to act accordingly. 
 
 " I think it might be made to do," he replied, evasively, 
 in order to discover the extent of his companion s informa 
 tion. 
 
 " Do !" cried Miss Harris, with fervor, " it cannot fail ! 
 How much do you suppose will be wanting to buy a barony, 
 for instance ?" 
 
 " Hem !" said Jarvis ; " you mean more than we have 
 already ? 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Why, about a thousand pounds, I think, will do it, with 
 what we have," said Jarvis, affecting to calculate. 
 
 " Is that all ?" cried the delighted Caroline ; and the cap 
 tain grew in an instant, in her estimation, three inches 
 higher ; quite noble in his air, and, in short, very tolerably 
 handsome. 
 
 From that moment, Miss Harris, in her own mind, had 
 fixed the fate of Captain Jarvis, and had determined to be 
 his wife, whenever she could persuade him to offer himself; 
 a thing she had no doubt of accomplishing with comparative 
 ease. Not so the Captain. Like all weak men, there was 
 nothing of which he stood more in terror than of ridicule. 
 He had heard the manoeuvres of Miss Harris laughed at by 
 many of the young men in Bath, and was by no means 
 disposed to add himself to the food for mirth of these wags ; 
 and, indeed, had cultivated her acquaintance with a kind of 
 bravado to some of his bottle companions, in order to show 
 his ability to oppose all her arts, when most exposed to 
 
368 PRECAUTION. 
 
 them : for it is one of the greatest difficulties to the success 
 of this description of ladies, that their characters soon become 
 suspected, and do them infinitely more injury than all their 
 skill in their vocation. 
 
 With these views in the respective champions the campaign 
 opened, and the lady, on her return, acquainted his mother 
 with the situation of the privy purse, that was to promote her 
 darling child to the enviable distinction of the peerage. Lady 
 Jarvis was for purchasing a baronetcy on the spot, with what 
 they had, under the impression that when ready for another 
 promotion they would only have to pay the difference, as 
 they did in the army when he received his captaincy. As r 
 however, the son was opposed to any arrangement that might 
 make the producing the few hundred pounds he had obtained 
 from his mother s folly necessary, she was obliged to post 
 pone the wished-for day, until their united efforts could com 
 pass the means of effecting the main point. As an earnest r 
 however, of her spirit in the cause, she gave him a fifty pound 
 note, that morning obtained from her husband, and which 
 the Captain lost at one throw of the dice to his brother-in- 
 law the same evening. 
 
 During the preceding events, Egerton had either studi 
 ously avoided all collision with the Moseleys, or his engage 
 ments had confined him to such very different scenes, that 
 they never met. 
 
 The Baronet had felt his presence a reproach, and Lady 
 Moseley rejoiced that Egerton yet possessed sufficient shame 
 to keep him from insulting her with his company. 
 
 It was a month after the departure of Lady Chatterton 
 that Sir Edward returned to B , as related in the pre 
 ceding chapter, and that the arrangements for the London 
 winter were commenced. 
 
 The day preceding their leaving Bath, the engagement of 
 
PRECAUTION. 369 
 
 Chatterton with Lady Harriet was made public amongst their 
 mutual friends, and an intimation was given that their nup 
 tials would be celebrated before the family of the Duke left 
 his seat for the capital. 
 
 Something of the pleasure that she had for a long time 
 been a stranger to, was felt by Emily Moseley, as the well 
 
 remembered tower of the village church of B struck her 
 
 sight on their return from their protracted excursion. More 
 than four months had elapsed since they had commenced 
 their travels, and in that period what changes of sentiments 
 had she not witnessed in others ; of opinions of mankind in 
 general, and of one individual in particular, had she not 
 experienced in her own person. The benevolent smiles, the 
 respectful salutations they received, in passing the little group 
 of houses which, clustered round the church, had obtained 
 the name of " the village," conveyed a sensation of delight 
 that can only be felt by the deserving and virtuous ; and the 
 smiling faces, in several instances glistening with teare, which 
 met them at the Hall, gave ample testimony to the worth of 
 both the master and his servants. 
 
 Francis and Clara were in waiting to receive them, and a 
 veiy few minutes elapsed before the rector and Mrs. Ives, 
 having heard they had passed, drove in also. In saluting the 
 different members of the family, Mrs. Wilson noticed the 
 startled look of the doctor, as the change in Emily s appear 
 ance first met his eyes. Her bloom, if not gone, was greatly 
 diminished ; and it was only when under the excitement of 
 strong emotions, that her face possessed that radiance which 
 had so eminently distinguished it before her late journey. 
 
 " Where did you last see my friend George ?" said the 
 Doctor to Mrs. Wilson, in the course of the first afternoon, 
 as he took a seat by her side, apart from the rest of the 
 family. 
 
 16* 
 
370 PRECAUTION. 
 
 -," said Mrs. Wilson, gravely, 
 cried the doctor, in evident amazement. "Wa* 
 he not at Bath then during your stay there ?" 
 
 " No ; I understand he was in attendance on some sick 
 relative, which detained him from his friends," said Mrs. Wil 
 son, wondering why the doctor chose to introduce so delicate 
 a topic. Of his guilt in relation to Mrs. Fitzgerald he was 
 doubtless ignorant, but surely not of his marriage. 
 
 " It is now some time since I heard from him," continued 
 the doctor, regarding Mrs. Wilson expressively, but to which 
 the lady only replied with a gentle inclination of the body ; 
 and the Rector, after pausing a moment, continued : 
 
 " You will not think me impertinent if I am bold enough 
 to ask, has George ever expressed a wish to become con 
 nected with your niece by other ties than those of friend 
 ship r 
 
 11 He did," answered the widow, after a little hesitation. 
 
 "He did, and " 
 
 "Was refused," continued Mrs. Wilson, with a slight 
 feeling for the dignity of her sex, which for a moment caused 
 her to lose sight of justice to Denbigh. 
 
 Dr. Ives was silent ; but manifested by his dejected coun 
 tenance the interest he had taken in this anticipated connex 
 ion, and as Mrs. Wilson had spoken with ill-concealed reluc 
 tance on the subject at all, the Rector did not attempt a 
 renewal of the disagreeable topic ; though she saw, for some 
 time afterwards, whenever the baronet or his wife mentioned 
 the name of Denbigh, that the eyes of the Rector were turned 
 on them in intense interest. 
 
PRECAUTION. 371 
 
 CHAPTER XXXYII. 
 
 * STEVENSON has returned, and I certainly must hear from 
 Harriet," exclaimed the sister of Pendennyss, as she stood at 
 a window watching the return of a servant from the neigh 
 boring post-office. 
 
 " I am afraid," rejoined the Earl, who was seated by the 
 breakfast table, waiting the leisure of the lady to give him 
 his cup of tea " You find Wales very dull, sister. I sin 
 cerely hope both Derwent and Harriet will not forget their 
 promise of visiting us this month." 
 
 The lady slowly took her seat at the table, engrossed in 
 her own reflections, when the man entered with his budget 
 of news ; and having deposited sundry papers and letters he 
 respectfully withdrew. The Earl glanced his eyes over the 
 directions of the epistles, and turning to his servants said, 
 " Answer the bell when called." Three or four liveried foot 
 men deposited their silver salvers and different implements 
 of servitude, and the peer and his sister were left to them 
 selves. 
 
 " Here is one from the Duke to me, and one for you from 
 his sister," said the brother ; " I propose they be read aloud 
 for our mutual advantage." To this proposal the lady, whose 
 curiosity to hear the contents of Derwent s letter greatly- 
 exceeded her interest in that of his sister, cheerfully acqui 
 esced, and her brother first broke the seal of his own epistle, 
 and read its contents as follow : 
 
 " Notwithstanding my promise of seeing you this month 
 
372 PRECAUTION". 
 
 in Caernarvonshire, I remain here yet, my dear Pendennyss, 
 unable to tear myself from the attractions I have found in 
 this city, although the pleasure of their contemplation has 
 been purchased at the expense of mortified feelings and 
 unrequited affections. It is a truth (though possibly diffi 
 cult to be believed), that this mercenary age has produced 
 a female disengaged, young, and by no means very rich, 
 who has refused a jointure of six thousand a year, with the 
 privilege of walking at a coronation within a dozen of royalty 
 itself." 
 
 Here the accidental falling of a cup from the hands of 
 the fair listener caused some little interruption to the reading 
 of the brother ;_ but as the lady, with a good deal of trepida 
 tion and many blushes, apologized hastily for the confusion 
 her awkwardness had made, the Earl continued to read. 
 
 " I could almost worship her independence : for I know 
 the wishes of both her parents were for my success. I con 
 fess to you freely, that my vanity has been a good deal 
 hurt, as I really thought myself agreeable to her. She 
 certainty listened to my conversation, and admitted my 
 approaches, with more satisfaction than those of any other 
 of the men around her ; and when I ventured to hint to her 
 this circumstance, as some justification for my presumption, 
 she frankly acknowledged the truth of my impression, and, 
 without explaining the reasons for her conduct, deeply 
 regretted the construction I had been led to place upon the 
 circumstance. Yes, my lord, I felt it necessary to apologize- 
 to Emily Moseley for presuming to< aspire to the honor of 
 possessing so much loveliness and virtue; The accidental 
 advantages of rank and wealth lose all their importance, 
 when opposed to her delicacy, ingenuousness,, and unaffected 
 principles. 
 
 " I have fceard it intimated fately r that George Denbigh 
 
PRECAUTION. 373 
 
 was in some way or other instrumental in saving her life 
 once ; and that to her gratitude, and to my resemblance to 
 the colonel, am I indebted to a consideration with Miss 
 Moseley, which, although it has been the means of buoying 
 me up with false hopes, I can never regret, from the plea 
 sure her society has afforded me. I have remarked, on my 
 mentioning his name to her, that she showed unusual emo 
 tion; and as Denbigh is already a husband, and myself 
 rejected, the field is now fairly open to you. You will 
 enter on your enterprise with great advantage, as you have 
 the same flattering resemblance, and, if anything, the voice, 
 which, I am told, is our greatest recommendation with the 
 ladies, in higher perfection than either George or your hum 
 ble servant." 
 
 Here the reader stopped of his own accord, and was so 
 intently absorbed in his meditations, that the almost breath 
 less curiosity of his sister was obliged to find relief by desir 
 ing him to proceed. Roused by the sound of her voice, the 
 earl changed color sensibly, and continued : 
 
 " But to be serious on a subject of great importance to 
 my future life (for I sometimes think her negative will make 
 Denbigh a duke), the lovely girl did not appear happy at 
 the time of our interview, nor do I think she enjoys at any 
 time the spirits nature has evidently given her. Harriet is 
 nearly as great an admirer of Miss Moseley, and takes her 
 refusal to heart as much as myself ; she even attempted to 
 intercede with her in my behalf. But the charming girl, 
 though mild, grateful, and delicate, was firm and unequi 
 vocal, and left no grounds for the remotest expectation of 
 success from perseverance on my part. 
 
 " As Harriet had received an intimation that both Miss 
 Moseley and her aunt entertained extremely rigid notions on 
 the score of religion, she took occasion to introduce the sub- 
 
S74 PRECAUTION". 
 
 ject in her conference with the former, and was told in 
 reply, * that other considerations would have determined her 
 to decline the honor I intended her; but that, under any 
 circumstances, a more intimate knowledge of my principles 
 would be necessary before she could entertain a thought of 
 accepting my hand, or, indeed, that of any other man. 
 Think of that, Pendennyss ! The principles of a duke ! 
 now, a dukedom and forty thousand a year would furnish a 
 character, with most people, for a Nero. 
 
 " I trust the important object I have had in view here is a 
 sufficient excuse for my breach of promise to you ; and I 
 am serious when I wish you (unless the pretty Spaniard has, 
 as I sometimes suspect, made you a captive) to see, and 
 endeavor to bring me in some degree connected with, the 
 charming family of Sir Edward Moseley. 
 
 " The aunt, Mrs. Wilson, often speaks of you with the 
 greatest interest, and, from some cause or other, is strongly 
 enlisted in your favor, and Miss Moseley hears your name 
 mentioned with evident pleasure. Your religion or princi 
 ples cannot be doubted. You can offer larger settlements, 
 as honorable if not as elevated a title, a far more illustrious 
 name, purchased by your own services, and personal merit 
 greatly exceeding the pretensions of your assured friend and 
 relative, " DERWENT." 
 
 Both brother and sister were occupied with then* own 
 reflections for several minutes after the letter was ended, and 
 the silence was broken first, by the latter saying with a low 
 tone to her brother, 
 
 " You must endeavor to become acquainted with Mrs. 
 Wilson ; she is, I know, very anxious to see you, and your 
 friendship for the general requires it of you." 
 
 " I owe General Wilson much," replied the brother, in a 
 
 
PRECAUTION. 375 
 
 melancholy voice ; " and when we go to Annerdale House, 
 I wish you to make the acquaintance of the ladies of the 
 Moseley family, should they be in town this winter ; but 
 you have yet the letter of Harriet to read." 
 
 After first hastily running over its contents, the lady com 
 menced the fulfilment of her part of the engagement. 
 
 lt Frederick has been so much engrossed of late with his 
 own affairs, that he has forgotten there is such a creature in 
 existence as his sister, or, indeed, any one else but a Miss 
 Emily Moseley, and consequently I have been unable to 
 fulfil my promise of making you a visit, for want of a proper 
 escort, and and perhaps some other considerations, not 
 worth mentioning in a letter I know you will read to the 
 earl. 
 
 ** Yes, my dear cousin, Frederick Denbigh has supplicated 
 the daughter of a country baronet to become a duchess ; 
 and, hear it, ye marriage-seeking nymphs and marriage- 
 making dames ! has supplicated in vain ! 
 
 " I confess to you, when the thing was first in agitation, 
 my aristocratic blood roused itself a little at the anticipated 
 connexion ; but finding on examination that Sir Edward was 
 of no doubtful lineage, and that the blood of the Chattertons 
 runs in his veins, and finding the young lady everything I 
 could wish in a sister, my scruples soon disappeared, with 
 the folly that engendered them. 
 
 " There was no necessity for any alarm, for the lady very 
 decidedly refused the honor offered her by Derwent, and 
 what makes the matter worse, refused the solicitations of his 
 sister also. 
 
 " I have fifty times been surprised at my own condescen 
 sion, and to this moment am at a loss to know whether it 
 was to the lady s worth, my brother s happiness, or the Chat- 
 
376 PRECAUTION. 
 
 terton blood, that I finally yielded. Heigho ! this Chatterton 
 is certainly much too handsome for a man ; but I forget you 
 have never seen him." (Here an arch smile stole over the 
 features of the listener, as his sister continued) " To return 
 to my narration, I had half a mind to send for a Miss Harris 
 there is here, to learn the most approved fashion of a lady 
 preferring a suit, but as fame said she was just now practising 
 on a certain hero ycleped Captain Jarvis, heir to Sir Timo of 
 that name, it struck me her system might be rather too 
 abrupt, so I was fain to adopt the best plan that of trusting 
 to nature and my own feelings for words. 
 
 " Nobility is certainly a very pretty thing (for those who 
 
 have it), but I would defy the old Margravine of to 
 
 keep up the semblance of superiority with Emily Moseley. 
 She is so very natural, so very beautiful, and withal at times 
 a little arch, that one is afraid to set up any other distinc 
 tions than such as can be fairly supported. 
 
 " I commenced with hoping her determination to reject the 
 hand of Frederick was not an unalterable one. (Yes, I 
 called him Frederick, what I never did out of my own family 
 before in my life.) There was a considerable tremor in the 
 voice of Miss Moseley, as she replied, I now perceive, when 
 too late, that my indiscretion has given reason to my friends 
 to think that I have entertained intentions towards his grace, 
 of which I entreat you to believe me, Lady Harriet, I am 
 innocent. Indeed indeed, as anything more than an agree 
 able acquaintance I have never allowed myself to think of 
 your brother : and from my soul I believe her. We con 
 tinued our conversation for half an hour longer, and such was 
 the ingenuousness, delicacy, and high religious feeling dis 
 played by the charming girl, that if I entered the room with 
 a spark of regret that I was compelled to solicit another to 
 favor my brother s love, I left it with a feeling that my efforts 
 
PRECAUTION. 377 
 
 had been unsuccessful. Yes! thou peerless sister of the 
 more peerless Pendennyss ! I once thought of your ladyship 
 as a wife for Derwent " 
 
 A glass of water was necessary to enable the reader to clear 
 her voice, which grew husky from speaking so long. 
 
 " But I now openly avow, neither your birth, your hun 
 dred thousand pounds, nor your merit, would put you on a 
 footing, in my estimation, with my Emily. You may form 
 some idea of her power to captivate, and of her indifference 
 to her conquests, when I mention that she once refused but 
 I forget, you don t know him, and therefore cannot be a 
 judge. The thing is finally decided, and we shortly go into 
 Westmoreland, and next week, the Moseleys return to North 
 amptonshire. I don t know when I shall be able to visit you, and 
 think I may now safely invite you to Denbigh Castle, although 
 a month ago I might have hesitated. Love to the earl, and 
 kind assurance to yourself of unalterable regard. 
 
 " HARRIET DENBIGH." 
 
 " P. S. I believe I forgot to mention that Mrs. Moseley, a 
 sister of Lord Chatterton, has gone to Portugal, and that the 
 peer himself is to go into the country with us : there is, I 
 suppose, a fellow-feeling between them just now, though I do 
 not think Chatterton looks so very miserable as he might. 
 Adieu." 
 
 On ending this second epistle the same silence which had 
 succeeded the reading of the first prevailed, until the lady, 
 with an arch expression, interrupted it by saying, 
 
 " Harriet will, I think, soon grace the peerage." 
 
 * And happily, I trust," replied the brother. 
 
 " Do you know Lord Chatterton ?" 
 
 " I do ; he is very amiable, and admirably calculated to 
 contrast with the lively gaiety of Harriet Denbigh." 
 
378 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " You believe in loving our opposites, I see," rejoined the 
 lady ; and then affectionately stretching out her hand to him, 
 she added, " but, Pendennyss, you must give me for a sister 
 one as nearly like yourself as possible." 
 
 l< That might please your affections," answered the earl 
 with a smile, " but how would it comport with my tastes ? 
 Will you suffer me to describe the kind of man you are to 
 select for your future lord, unless, indeed, you have decided 
 the point already?" 
 
 The lady colored violently, and appearing anxious to 
 change the subject, she tumbled over two or three unopened 
 letters, as she cried eagerly 
 
 " Here is one from the Donna Julia." The earl instantly 
 broke the seal and read aloud ; no secrets existing between 
 them in relation to their mutual friend, 
 
 " MY LORD, 
 
 " I hasten to write you what I know it will give you plea 
 sure to hear, concerning my future prospects in life. My 
 uncle, General M Carthy, has written me the cheerful tidings, 
 that my father has consented to receive his only child, with 
 out any other sacrifice than a condition of attending the 
 service of the Catholic Church without any professions on 
 my side, or even an understanding that I am conforming to 
 its peculiar tenets. This may be, in some measure, irksome 
 at times, and possibly distressing ; but the worship of God, 
 with a proper humiliation of spirit, I have learnt to consider 
 as a privilege to us here, and I owe a duty to my earthly 
 father of penitence and care in his later years that will jus 
 tify the measure in the eyes of my heavenly One. I ha?ve, 
 therefore, acquainted my uncle in reply, that I am willing to 
 attend the Conde s summons at any moment he will choose 
 to make them ; and I thought it a debt due your care and 
 
PRECAUTION. 379 
 
 friendship to apprise your lordship of my approaching depar 
 ture from this country; indeed, I have great reasons for 
 believing that your kind and unremitted efforts to attain this 
 object have already prepared you to expect this result. 
 
 " I feel it will be impossible to quit England without seeing 
 you and your sister, to thank you for the many, very many 
 favors, of both a temporal and eternal nature, you have been 
 the agents of conferring on me. The cruel suggestions which 
 I dreaded, and which it appears had reached the ears of my 
 friends in Spain, have prevented my troubling your lordship 
 of late unnecessarily with my concerns. The consideration 
 of a friend to your character (Mrs. Wilson) has removed the 
 necessity of applying for your advice ; she and her charming 
 niece, Miss Emily Moseley, have been, next to yourselves, the 
 greatest solace I have had in my exile, and united you will be 
 remembered in my prayers. I will merely mention here, 
 deferring the explanation until I see you in London, that I 
 have been visited by the wretch from whom you delivered 
 me in Portugal, and that the means of ascertaining his name 
 have fallen into my hands. You will be the best judge of 
 the proper steps to be taken ; but I wish, by all means, 
 something may be done to prevent his attempting to see me 
 in Spain. Should it be discovered to my relations there that 
 he has any such intentions, it would certainly terminate in his 
 death, and possibly in my disgrace. Wishing you and your 
 kind sister all possible happiness, I remain, 
 
 " Your Lordship s obliged friend, 
 
 " JULIA FITZGERALD." 
 
 
 " Oh !" cried the sister as she concluded the letter, " we must 
 certainly see her before she goes. What a wretch that per 
 secutor of hers must be ! how persevering in his villany !" 
 
 * He does exceed my ideas of effrontery," said the earl, in 
 
380 PRECAUTION. 
 
 great warmth " but he may offend too far ; the laws shall 
 interpose their power to defeat his schemes, should he ever 
 repeat them." 
 
 " He attempted to take your life, brother," said the lady, 
 shuddering, " if I remember the tale aright." 
 
 " Why, I have endeavored to free him from that imputa 
 tion," rejoined the brother, musing: "he certainly fired a 
 pistol, but the latter hit my horse at such a distance from 
 myself, that I believe his object was to disable me and not 
 murder. His escape has astonished me ; he must have fled 
 by himself into the woods, as Harmer was but a short 
 distance behind me, admirably mounted, and the escort was 
 up and in full pursuit within ten minutes. After all it may 
 be for the best he was not taken ; for I am persuaded the 
 dragoons would have sabred him on the spot, and he may 
 have parents of respectability, or a wife to kill by the know 
 ledge of his misconduct." 
 
 " This Emily Moseley must be a faultless being," cried the 
 sister, as she ran over the contents of Julia s letter. " Three 
 different letters, and each containing her praises !" 
 
 The earl made no reply, but opening the duke s letter 
 again, he appeared to be studying its contents. His color 
 slightly changed as he dwelt on its passages, and turning to 
 his sister he inquired if she had a mind to try the air of West 
 moreland for a couple of weeks or a month. 
 
 " As you say, my Lord," replied the lady, with cheeks of 
 scarlet. 
 
 " Then I say we will go. I wish much to see Derwent, 
 and I think there will be a wedding during our visit." 
 
 He rang the bell, and the almost untasted breakfast was 
 removed in a few minutes. A servant announced that his 
 horse was in readiness. The earl wished his sister a friendly 
 good morning, and proceeded to the door, where was stand 
 
PRECAUTION. 381 
 
 ing one of the noble black horses before mentioned, held by 
 a groom, and the military-looking attendant ready mounted 
 on another. 
 
 Throwing himself into the saddle, the young peer rode 
 gracefully from the door, followed by his attendant horseman. 
 During this ride, the master suffered his steed to take what 
 ever course most pleased himself, and his follower looked up 
 in surprise more than once, to see the careless manner in 
 which the Earl of Pendennyss, confessedly one of the best 
 horsemen in England, managed the noble animal. Having, 
 however, got without the gates of his own park, and into the 
 vicinity of numberless cottages and farm-houses, the mas 
 ter recovered his recollection, and the man ceased to wonder. 
 
 For three hours the equestrians pursued their course 
 through the beautiful vale which opened gracefully opposite 
 one of the fronts of the castle ; and if faces of smiling wel 
 come, inquiries after his own and his sister s welfare, which 
 evidently sprang from the heart, or the most familiar but 
 respectful representations of their own prosperity or misfor 
 tunes, gave any testimony of the feelings entertained by the 
 tenantry of this noble estate for their landlord, the situa 
 tion of the young nobleman might be justly considered 
 envied. 
 
 As the hour for dinner approached, they turned the heads 
 of then- horses towards home; and on entering the park, 
 removed from the scene of industry and activity without, the 
 earl relapsed into his fit of musing. A short distance from 
 the house he suddenly called, " Harmer." The man drove 
 his spurs into the loins of his horse, and in an instant was by 
 the side of his master, which he signified by raising his hand 
 to his cap with the palm opening outward. 
 
 <; You must prepare to go to Spain when required, in 
 attendance on Mrs. Fitzgerald." 
 
382 PRECAUTION. 
 
 The man received his order with the indifference of oue 
 used to adventures and movements, and having laconically 
 signified his assent, he drew his horse back again into his 
 station in the rear. 
 
PRECAUTION. 383 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIIL 
 
 THE day succeeding the arrival of the Moseleys at the seat 
 of their ancestors, Mrs. Wilson observed *Emily silently put 
 ting on her pelisse, and walking out unattended by either of 
 the domestics or any of the family. There was a peculiar 
 melancholy in her air and manner, which inclined the cau 
 tious aunt to suspect that her charge was bent on the indul 
 gence of some ill-judged weakness ; more particularly, as the 
 direction she took led to the arbor, a theatre in which Den 
 bigh had been so conspicuous an actor. Hastily throwing 
 a cloak over her own shoulders, Mrs. "Wilson followed Emily 
 with the double purpose of ascertaining her views, and if 
 necessary, of interposing her own authority against the repe 
 tition of similar excursions. 
 
 As Emily approached the arbor, whither in truth she had 
 directed her steps, its faded vegetation and chilling aspect, 
 so different from its verdure and luxuriance when she last 
 saw it, came over her heart as a symbol of her own blighted 
 prospects and deadened affections. The recollection of Den 
 bigh s conduct on that spot, of his general benevolence and 
 assiduity to please, being forcibly recalled to her mind at the 
 instant, forgetful of her object in visiting the arbor, Emily 
 yielded to her sensibilities, and sank on the seat weeping as 
 if her heart would break. 
 
 She had not time to dry her eyes, and to collect her 
 scattered thoughts, before Mrs. Wilson entered the arbor. 
 Eyeing her niece for a moment with a sternness unusual for 
 the one to adopt or the other to receive, she said. 
 
384 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " It is a solemn obligation we owe our religion and our 
 selves, to endeavor to suppress such passions as are incom 
 patible with our duties ; and there is no weakness greater 
 than blindly adhering to the wrong, when we are convinced 
 of our error. It is as fatal to good morals as it is unjust to 
 ourselves to persevere, from selfish motives, in believing 
 those innocent whom evidence has convicted as guilty. 
 Many a weak woman has sealed her own misery by such 
 wilful obstinacy, aided by the unpardonable vanity of believ 
 ing herself able to control a man that the laws of God could 
 not restrain." 
 
 " Oh, dear madam, speak not so unkindly to me," sobbed 
 the weeping girl ; " I I am guilty of no such weakness, I 
 assure you :" and looking up with an air of profound resig 
 nation and piety, she continued : " Here, on this spot, where 
 he saved my life, I was about to offer up my prayers for 
 his conviction of the error of his ways, and for the pardon 
 of his too too heavy transgressions." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson, softened almost to tears herself, viewed her 
 for a moment with a mixture of delight, and continued in a 
 milder tone, 
 
 " I believe you, my dear. I am certain, although you 
 may have loved Denbigh much, that you love your Maker 
 and his ordinances more ; and I have no apprehensions that, 
 were he a disengaged man, and you alone in the world 
 unsupported by anything but your sense of duty you 
 would ever so far forget yourself as to become his wife. 
 But does not your religion, does not your own usefulness in 
 society, require you wholly to free your heart from the 
 power of a man who has so unworthily usurped a dominion 
 over it ?" 
 
 To this Emily replied, in a hardly audible voice, " Certainly 
 and I pray constantly for it/ 
 
PRECAUTION. 385 
 
 " It is well, my love," said the aunt, soothingly ; " you 
 cannot fail with such means, and your own exertions, finally 
 to prevail over your own worst enemies, your passions. The 
 task our sex has to sustain is, at the best, an arduous one ; 
 but so much the greater is our credit if we do it well." 
 
 " Oh ! how is an unguided girl ever to judge aright, if, " 
 cried Emily, clasping her hands and speaking with great 
 energy, and she would have said, " one like Denbigh in 
 appearance, be so vile !" Shame, however, kept her silent. 
 
 " Few men can support such a veil of hypocrisy as that 
 with which I sometimes think Denbigh must deceive even 
 himself. His case is an extraordinary exception to a very 
 sacred rule * that the tree is known by its fruits, " replied 
 her aunt. " There is no safer way of judging of character 
 that one s opportunities will not admit of more closely 
 investigating, than by examining into and duly appreciating 
 early impressions. The man or woman who has constantly 
 seen the practice of piety before them, from infancy to the 
 noon of life, will seldom so far abandon the recollection of 
 virtue as to be guilty of great, enormities. Even Divine 
 Truth has promised that his blessings or his curses shall 
 extend to many generations. It is true, that with our most 
 most guarded prudence we may be deceived." Mrs. Wil 
 son paused and sighed heavily, as her own case, connected 
 with the loves of Denbigh and her niece, occurred strongly 
 to her mind. " Yet," she continued, " we may lessen the 
 danger much by guarding against it ; and it seems to me 
 no more than what self-preservation requires in a young 
 woman. But for a religious parent to neglect it, is a wilful 
 abandonment of a most solemn duty." 
 
 As Mrs. Wilson concluded, her niece, who had recovered 
 the command of her feelings, pressed her hand in silence to 
 her lips, and showed a disposition to retire from a spot 
 17 
 
386 PRECAUTION. 
 
 which she found recalled too many recollections of a man 
 whose image it was her imperious duty to banish, on every 
 consideration of propriety and religion. 
 
 Their walk into the house was silent, and their thoughts 
 were drawn from the unpleasant topic by finding a letter 
 from Julia, announcing her intended departure from this 
 country, and her wish to take leave of them in London 
 before she sailed. As she had mentioned the probable day 
 for that event, both the ladies were delighted to find it was 
 posterior to the time fixed by Sir Edward for their own 
 visit to the capital. 
 
 Had Jane, instead of Emily, been the one that suffered 
 through the agency of Mrs. Fitzgerald, however innocently 
 on the part of the lady, her violent and uncontrolled passions 
 would have either blindly united the innocent with the guilty 
 in her resentments; or, if a sense of justice had vindicated 
 the lady in her judgment, yet her pride and ill-guided 
 delicacy would have felt her name a reproach, that would 
 have forbidden any intercourse with her or any belonging to 
 her. 
 
 Not so with her sister. The sufferings of Mrs. Fitzgerald 
 had taken a strong hold on her youthful feelings, and a simi 
 larity of opinions and practices on the great object of their 
 lives, had brought them together in a manner no misconduct 
 in a third person could weaken. It is true, the recollection 
 of Denbigh was intimately blended with the fate of Mrs. 
 Fitzgerald. But Emily sought support against her feelings 
 from a quarter that rather required an investigation of them 
 than a desire to drown care with thought. 
 
 She never indulged in romantic reflections in which the 
 image of Denbigh was associated. This she had hardly 
 done in her happiest moments ; and his marriage, if nothing 
 else had interfered, now absolutely put it out of the question. 
 
PRECAUTION. 387 
 
 But, although a Christian, and an humble and devout one, 
 Emily Moseley was a woman, and had loved ardently, con 
 fidingly, and gratefully. Marriage is the business of life 
 with her sex, with all, next to a preparation for a better 
 world, and it cannot be supposed that a first passion in a 
 bosom like that of our heroine was to be suddenly erased, 
 and to leave no vestiges of its existence. 
 
 Her partiality for the society of Derwent, her meditations 
 in which she sometimes detected herself drawing a picture 
 of what Denbigh might have been, if early care had been 
 taken to impress him with his situation in this world, and 
 from which she generally retired to her closet and her knees, 
 were the remains of feelings too strong and too pure to be 
 torn from her in a moment. 
 
 The arrival of John, with Grace and Jane, enlivened not 
 only the family but the neighborhood. Mr. Haughton and 
 his numerous friends poured in on the young couple with their 
 congratulations, and a few weeks stole by insensibly, previ 
 ously to the commencement of the journeys of Sir Edward 
 and his sonthe one to Benfield Lodge and the other to St. 
 James s Square. 
 
 On the return of the travellers, a few days before they 
 commenced their journey to the capital, John laughingly told 
 his uncle that, although he himself greatly admired the taste 
 of Mr. Peter Johnson in dress, yet he doubted whether the 
 present style of fashions in the metropolis would not be scan 
 dalized by the appearance- of the honest steward. 
 
 John had in fact noticed, in their former visit to London, a 
 mob of mischievous boys eyeing Peter with indications of 
 rebellious movements which threatened the old man, and 
 from which he had retreated by taking a coach, and he now 
 made the suggestion from pure good -nature, to save him any 
 future trouble from a similar cause. 
 
388 PRECAUTION. 
 
 They were at dinner when Moseley made the remark, and 
 the steward was in his place at the sideboard for his master 
 was his home. Drawing near at the mention of his name 
 first, and casting an eye over his figure to see if all was 
 decent, Peter respectfully broke silence, determined to defend 
 his own cause. 
 
 " Why ! Mr. John Mr. John Moseley ? if I might judge, 
 for an elderly man, and a serving man," said the steward, 
 bowing humbly, " I am no disparagement to my friends, or 
 even to my honored master." 
 
 Johnson s vindication of his wardrobe drew the eyes of the 
 family upon him, and an involuntary smile passed from one 
 to the other, as they admired his starched figure and drab 
 frock, or rather doublet with sleeves and skirts. Sir Edward, 
 being of the same opinion with his son, observed 
 
 "I do think, Uncle Benfield, there might be an improve 
 ment in the dress of your steward without much trouble to 
 the ingenuity of his tailor." 
 
 " Sir Edward Moseley honorable sir," said the steward, 
 beginning to grow alarmed, " if I may be so bold, you young 
 gentlemen may like gay clothes ; but as for me and his 
 honor, we are used to such as we wear, and what we are 
 used to we love." 
 
 The old man spoke with earnestness, and drew the parti 
 cular attention of his master to a review of his attire. After 
 reflecting that no gentleman in the house had been attended 
 by any servitor in such a garb, Mr. Benfield thought it time 
 to give his sentiments on the subject. 
 
 " Why I remember that my Lord Gosford s gentleman 
 never wore a livery, nor can I say that he dressed exactly 
 after the manner of Johnson. Every member had his body 
 servant, and they were not unfrequently taken for their mas 
 ters. Lady Juliana, too, after the death of her nephew, had 
 
PRECAUTION. 3Q9 
 
 one or two attendants out of livery, and in a different fashion 
 from your attire. Peter, I think with John Moseley there, 
 we must alter you a little for the sake of appearances." 
 
 " Your honor !" stammered out Peter, in increased terror ; 
 "for Mr. John Moseley and Sir Edward, and youngerly gen 
 tlemen like, dress may do. Now, your honor, if " and 
 Peter, turning to Grace, bowed nearly to the floor " I had 
 such a sweet, most beautiful young lady to smile on me, I 
 might wish to change ; but, sir, my day has gone by." 
 Peter sighed as the recollection of Patty Steele and his youth 
 ful love floated across his brain. Grace blushed and thanked 
 him for the compliment, and gave her opinion that his gal 
 lantry merited a better costume. 
 
 " Peter," said his master, decidedly, " I think Mrs. Moseley 
 is right. If I should call on the viscountess (the Lady Juli 
 ana, who yet survived an ancient dowager of seventy), I shall 
 want your attendance, and in your present garb you cannot 
 fail to shock her delicate feelings. You remind me now I 
 think, every time I look at you, of old Harry, the earl s 
 gamekeeper, one of the most cruel men I ever knew." 
 
 This decided the matter. Peter well knew that his mas 
 ter s antipathy to old Harry arose from his having pursued a 
 poacher one day, in place of helping the Lady Juliana over 
 a stile, in her flight from a bull that was playing his gambols 
 in the same field ; and not for the world would the faithful 
 steward retain even a feature, if it brought unpleasant recol 
 lections to his kind master. He at one time thought of 
 closing his innovations on his wardrobe, however, with a 
 change of his nether garment ; as after a great deal of study, 
 he could only make out the resemblance between himself 
 and the obnoxious game-keeper to consist in the leathern 
 breeches. But fearful of some points escaping his memory in 
 forty years, he tamely acquiesced in all John s alterations, 
 
390 PRECAUTION. 
 
 and appeared at his station three days afterwards newly 
 decked from head to foot in a more modern suit of snuff- 
 color. 
 
 The change once made, Peter greatly admired himself in a 
 glass, and thought, could he have had the taste of Mr. John 
 Moseley in his youth to direct his toilet, that the hard heart 
 of Patty Steele would not always have continued so obdu 
 rate. 
 
 Sir Edward wished to collect his neighbors round him 
 once more before he left them for another four months ; and 
 accordingly the rector and his wife, Francis and Clara, the 
 Haughtons, with a few others, dined at the Hall by invita 
 tion, the last day of their stay in Northamptonshire. The 
 company had left the table to join the ladies, when Grace 
 came into the drawing-room with a face covered with smiles 
 and beaming with pleasure. 
 
 11 You look like the bearer of good news, Mrs. Moseley," 
 cried the rector, catching a glimpse of her countenance as she 
 passed. 
 
 " Good ! I sincerely hope and believe," replied Grace. 
 " My letters from my brother announce that his marriage took 
 place last week, and give us hopes of seeing them all in 
 town within the month." 
 
 " Married !" exclaimed Mr. Haughton, casting his eyes 
 unconsciously on Emily, "my Lord Chatterton married! 
 May I ask the name of the. bride, my dear Mrs. Moseley ?" 
 
 " To Lady Harriet Denbigh and at Denbigh Castle in 
 Westmoreland ; but very privately, as you may suppose from 
 seeing Moseley and myself here," answered Grace, her 
 cheeks yet glowing with surprise and pleasure at the intel 
 ligence. 
 
 " Lady Harriet Denbigh ?" echoed Mr. Haughtou ; "what! 
 a kinswoman of our old friend ? your friend, Miss Emily T 
 
391 
 
 the recollection of the service he had performed at the arbor 
 still fresh in his memory. 
 
 Emily commanded herself sufficiently to reply, " Brothers 
 children, I believe, sir." 
 
 " But a lady how came she my lady ?" continued the 
 good man, anxious to know the whole, and ignorant of any 
 reasons for delicacy where so great a favorite as Denbigh was 
 in the question. 
 
 " She is the daughter of the late Duke of Derwent," said 
 Mrs. Moseley, as willing as himself to talk of her new sister. 
 
 " How happens it that the death of old Mr. Denbigh was 
 announced as plain Geo. Denbigh, Esq., if he was the bro 
 ther of a duke ?" said Jane, forgetting for a moment the pre 
 sence of Dr. and Mrs. Ives, in her surviving passion for gene 
 alogy: "should he not have been called Lord George, or 
 honorable ?" 
 
 This was the first time any allusion had been made to the 
 sudden death in the church by any of the Moseleys in the 
 hearing of the rector s family ; and the speaker sat in breath 
 less terror at her own inadvertency. But Dr. Ives, observing 
 that a profound silence prevailed as soon as Jane ended, 
 answered mildly, though in a way to prevent any further 
 comments 
 
 " The late Duke s succeeding a cousin-german in the title, 
 was the reason, I presume. Emily, I am to hear from you 
 by letter I hope, after you enter into the gaieties of the me 
 tropolis ?" 
 
 This Emily cheerfully promised, and the conversation took 
 another turn. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson had carefully avoided all communications with 
 the rector concerning his youthful friend, and the Doctor 
 appeared unwilling to commence anything which might lead 
 to his name being mentioned. " He is disappointed in him as 
 
392 PRECAUTION. 
 
 well as ourselves," thought the widow, " and it must be unplea 
 sant to have his image recalled. He saw his attentions to 
 Kmily, and he knows of his marriage to Lady Laura of 
 course, and he loves us all, and Emily in particular, too well 
 not to feel hurt by his conduct." 
 
 " Sir Edward !" cried Mr. Haughton, with a laugh, " Baro 
 nets are likely to be plenty. Have you heard how near we 
 were to have another in the neighborhood lately ?" Sir Ed 
 ward answered in the negative, and his neighbor con 
 tinued 
 
 " Why no less a man than Captain Jarvis, promoted to the 
 bloody hand." 
 
 " Captain Jarvis !" exclaimed five or six at once ; " explain 
 yourself, Mr. Haughton." 
 
 " My near neighbor, young Walker, has been to Bath on 
 an unusual business his health and for the benefit of the 
 country he has brought back a pretty piece of scandal. It 
 seems that Lady Jarvis, as I am told she is since she left 
 here, wished to have her hopeful heir made a lord, and that 
 the two united for some six months in forming a kind of 
 savings bank between themselves, to enable them at some 
 future day to bribe the minister to honor the peerage with 
 such a prodigy. After awhile the daughter of our late ac 
 quaintance, Sir William Harris, became an accessary to the 
 plot, and a contributor too, to the tune of a couple of hundred 
 pounds. Some circumstances, however, at length made this 
 latter lady suspicious, and she wished to audit the books. 
 The Captain prevaricated the lady remonstrated, until the 
 gentleman, with more truth than manners, told her that she 
 was a fool the money he had expended or lost at dice ; and 
 that he did not think the ministers quite so silly as to make 
 him a lord, or that he himself was such a fool as to make her 
 his wife ; so the whole thing exploded." 
 
PRECAUTION. 393 
 
 John listened with a delight but little short of what he had 
 felt when Grace owned her love, and anxious to know all, 
 eagerly inquired 
 
 " But, is it true ? how was it found out ?" 
 
 " Oh, the lady complained of part, and the Captain tells 
 all to get the laugh on his side ; so that Walker says the 
 former is the derision and the latter the contempt of all 
 Bath." 
 
 " Poor Sir William," said the baronet, with feeling ; " he 
 is much to be pitied." 
 
 u I am afraid he has nothing to blame but his own indul 
 gence," remarked the rector. 
 
 " You don t know the worst of it," replied Mr. Haughton. 
 " We poor people are made to suffer Lady Jarvis wept and 
 fretted Sir Timo out of his lease, which has been given up, 
 and a new house is to be taken in another part of the 
 kingdom, where neither Miss Harris nor the story is 
 known." 
 
 " Then Sir William has to procure a new tenant," said 
 Lady Moseley, not in the least regretting the loss of the 
 old one. 
 
 " No ! my lady !" continued Mr. Haughton, with a smile. 
 " Walker is, you know, an attorney, and does some business 
 occasionally for Sir William. When Jarvis gave up the 
 lease, the baronet, who finds himself a little short of money, 
 offered the deanery for sale, it being a useless place to him ; 
 and the very next day, while Walker was with Sir William, 
 a gentleman called, and without higgling agreed to pay down 
 at once his thirty thousand pounds for it." 
 
 " And who is the purchaser T inquired Lady Moseley, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " The Earl of Pendennyss." 
 
 " Lord Pendennyss !" exclaimed Mrs. Wilson in rapture. 
 17* 
 
394 
 
 " Pendennyss !" cried the rector, eyeing the aunt and 
 Emily with a smile. 
 
 " Pendennyss !" echoed all in the room in amazement. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Haughton, " it is now the property of th 
 earl, who says lie has bought it for his sister." 
 
PRECAUTION. 395 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 MRS. WILSON found time the ensuing day to ascertain 
 Sefore they left the hall, the truth of the tale related by Mr. 
 JTaughton. The deanery had certainly changed its master, 
 And a new steward had already arrived to take possession in 
 <he name of his lord. What induced Pendennyss to make 
 this purchase she was at a loss to conceive most probably 
 some arrangement between himself and Lord Bolton. But 
 whatever might be his motive, it in some measure insured his 
 becoming for a season their neighbor ; and Mrs. Wilson felt 
 a degree of pleasure at the circumstance that she had been a 
 stranger to for a long time a pleasure which was greatly 
 heightened as she dwelt on the lovely face of the companion 
 who occupied the other seat in her travelling chaise. 
 
 The road to London led by the gates of the deanery, and 
 near them they passed a servant ia the livery of those they 
 had once seen following the equipage of the earl. Anxious to 
 know anything which might hasten her acquaintance with 
 this admired nobleman, Mrs. Wilson stopped her carriage to 
 inquire. 
 
 " Pray, sir, whom do you serve ?" 
 
 " My Lord Pendennyss, ma am," replied the man, respect 
 fully taking off his hat. 
 
 "The earl is not here?" asked Mrs. Wilson, with inte 
 rest. 
 
 " Oh, no, madam ; I am here in waiting on his steward. 
 My lord is in Westmoreland, with his grace and Colonel 
 Denbigh, and the ladies." 
 
396 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Does he remain there long ?" continued the anxious 
 widow, desirous of knowing all she could learn. 
 
 " I believe not, madam ; most of our people have gone to 
 Annerdale- House, and my lord is expected in town with the 
 duke and the colonel." 
 
 As the servant was an elderly man, and appeared to 
 understand the movements of his master so well, Mrs. Wil 
 son was put in unusual spirits by this prospect of a speedy 
 termination to her anxiety to meet Pendennyss. 
 
 " Annerdale-House is the earl s town residence ?" quietly 
 inquired Emily. 
 
 " Yes ; he got the fortune of the last duke of that title, 
 but how I do not exactly know. I believe, however, through 
 his mother. General Wilson did not know his family: 
 indeed, Pendennyss bore a second title during his lifetime ; 
 but did you observe how very civil his servant was, as well 
 as the one John spoke to before, a sure sign their master 
 is a gentleman ?" 
 
 Emily smiled at the strong partialities of her aunt, and 
 replied, " Your handsome chaise and attendants will draw 
 respect from most men in his situation, dear aunt, be their 
 masters who they may." 
 
 The expected pleasure of meeting the earl was a topic 
 frequently touched upon between her aunt and Emily during 
 their journey ; the former beginning to entertain hopes she 
 would have laughed at herself for, could they have been 
 fairly laid before her ; and the latter entertaining a profound 
 respect for his character, but chiefly governed by a wish to 
 gratify her companion. 
 
 The third day they reached the baronet s handsome house 
 in St. James s Square, and found that the forethought of 
 John had provided everything in the best and most comfort 
 able manner. 
 
PRECAUTION. 397 
 
 It was the first visit of both Jane and Emily to the metro 
 polis ; and under the protection of their almost equally 
 curious mother, and escorted by John, they wisely deter 
 mined to visit the curiosities, while their leisure yet admitted 
 of the opportunity. For the first two weeks their time was 
 chiefly employed in the indulgence of this unfashionable and 
 vulgar propensity, which, if it had no other tendency, served 
 greatly to draw the thoughts of both the young women from 
 the recollections of the last few months. 
 
 While her sister and nieces were thus employed, Mrs. 
 Wilson, assisted by Grace, was occupied in getting things in 
 preparation to do credit to the baronet s hospitality. 
 
 The second week after their arrival, Mrs. Moseley was 
 delighted by seeing advance upon her unexpectedly through 
 the door of the breakfast parlor, her brother, with his bride 
 leaning on his arm. After the most sincere greetings and 
 congratulations, Lady Chatterton cried out gaily, 
 
 " You see, my dear Lady Moseley, I am determined to 
 banish ceremony between us, and so, instead of sending you 
 my card, have come myself to notify you of my arrival. 
 Chatterton would not suffer me even to swallow my break 
 fast, he was so impatient to show me off." 
 
 " You are placing things exactly on the footing I wish to 
 see ourselves with all our connexions," replied Lady Moseley, 
 kindly ; " but what have you done with the duke ? is he n/>t 
 in your train ?" 
 
 " Oh ! he is gone to Canterbury with George Den 
 bigh, madam," cried the lady, shaking her head reproach 
 fully though affectionately at Emily; "his grace dislikes 
 London just now excessively, he says, and the Colonel 
 being obliged to leave his wife on regimental business, 
 Derwent was good enough to keep him company during his 
 exile." 
 
398 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " And Lady Laura, do we see her ?" inquired Lady 
 Moseley. 
 
 " She came with us. Pendennyss and his sister follow 
 immediately ; so, my dear madam, the dramatis personse will 
 all be on the stage soon." 
 
 Cards and visits now began to accumulate on the Moseleys, 
 and their time no longer admitted of that unfettered leisure 
 which they had enjoyed at their entrance on the scene. Mrs. 
 Wilson, for herself and charge, adopted a rule for the govern 
 ment of her manner of living, which was consistent with hei 
 duties. They mixed in general society sparingly ; and, 
 above all, they rigidly adhered to the obedience to the injunc 
 tion which commanded them to keep the Sabbath day holy ; 
 a duty of no trifling difficulty to perform in fashionable society 
 in the city of London, or, indeed, in any other place, where 
 the influence of fashion has supplanted the laws of God. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson was not a bigot ; but she knew and performed 
 her duty rigidly. It was a pleasure to her to do so. It 
 would have been misery to do otherwise. In the singleness 
 of heart and deep piety of her niece, she had a willing pupil 
 to her system of morals, and a rigid follower of her religious 
 practices. As they both knew that the temptations to go 
 astray were greater in town than in country, they kept a 
 strict guard over the tendency to err, and in watchfulness 
 found their greatest security. 
 
 John Moseley, next to his friends, loved his bays : indeed, 
 if the aggregate of his affections for these and Lady Herrie- 
 field had been put in opposite scales, we strongly suspect the 
 side of the horses would predominate. 
 
 One Sunday, soon after being domesticated, John, who 
 had soberly attended morning service with the ladies, came 
 into a little room where the more reflecting part of the 
 family were assembled, in search of his wife. 
 
PRECAUTION. 399 
 
 Grace, we have before mentioned, had become a real mem 
 ber of that church in which she had been educated, and had 
 entered, under the direction of Dr. Ives and Mrs. Wilson, into 
 an observance of its wholesome ordinances. Grace was cer 
 tainly piously inclined, if not devout. Her feelings on the 
 subject of religion had been sensibly awakened during their 
 voyage to Lisbon ; and at the period of which we write, Mrs. 
 Moseley was as sincerely disposed to perform her duty as her 
 powers admitted. To the request of her husband, that she 
 would take a seat in his phaeton while he drove her round 
 the park once or twice, Grace gave a mild refusal, by saying, 
 
 " It is Sunday, my dear Moseley." 
 
 " Do you think I don t know that ?" cried John, gaily. 
 " There will be everybody there, and, the better day, the 
 better deed." 
 
 Now, Moseley, if he had been asked to apply this speech 
 to the case before them, would have frankly owned his ina 
 bility ; but his wife did not make the trial : she was con 
 tented with saying, as she laid down her book to look on a 
 face she so tenderly loved, 
 
 " Ah ! Moseley, you should set a better example to those 
 below you in life." 
 
 " I wish to set an example," returned her husband, with 
 an affectionate smile, " to all above as well as below me, in 
 order that they may find out the path to happiness, by 
 exhibiting to the world a model of a wife in yourself, dear 
 Grace." 
 
 As this was uttered with a sincerity which distinguished 
 the manner of Moseley, his wife was more pleased with the 
 compliment than she would have been willing to make 
 known ; and John spoke no more than he thought ; for a 
 desire to show his handsome wife was the ruling passion for 
 a moment. 
 
400 PRECAUTION. 
 
 The husband was too pressing and the wife too fond not to 
 yield the point ; and Grace took her seat in the carriage with 
 a kind of half-formed resolution to improve the opportunity 
 by a discourse on serious subjects a resolution which termi 
 nated as all others do, that postpone one duty to discharge 
 another of less magnitude ; it was forgotten. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson had listened with interest to the efforts of John 
 to prevail on his wife to take the ride, and on her leaving the 
 room to comply she observed to Emily, with whom she now 
 remained alone 
 
 " Here is a consequence of a difference in religious views 
 between man and wife, my child : John, in place of supporting 
 Grace in the discharge of her duties, has been the actual 
 cause of her going astray." 
 
 Emily felt the force of her aunt s remark, and saw its jus 
 tice ; yet her love for the offender induced her to say 
 
 " John will not lead her openly astray, for he has a sin 
 cere respect for religion, and this offence is not unpardonable, 
 dear aunt." 
 
 " The offence is assuredly not unpardonable," replied Mrs. 
 Wilson, " and to infinite mercy it is hard to say what is ; 
 but it is an offence, and directly in the face of an express 
 ordinance of the Lord ; it is even throwing off the appearance 
 of keeping the Sabbath day holy, much less observing the 
 substance of the commandment ; and as to John s respect for 
 holy things in this instance, it was injurious to his wife. Had 
 he been an open deist she would have shrunk from the act in 
 suspicion of its sinfulness. Either John must become a 
 Christian, or I am afraid Grace will fall from her under 
 taking." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson shook her head mournfully, while Emily 
 offered up a silent petition that the first might speedily be 
 the case. 
 
PRECAUTION. 401 
 
 Lady Laura had been early in her visit to the Moseleys ; 
 and as Denbigh had both a town residence and a seat in par 
 liament, it appeared next to impossible to avoid meeting him 
 or to requite the pressing civilities of his wife by harsh refu 
 sals, that might prove in the end injurious to themselves by 
 creating a suspicion that resentment at his not choosing a 
 partner from amongst them, governed the conduct of the 
 Moseleys towards a man to whom they were under such a 
 heavy obligation. 
 
 Had Sir Edward known as much as his sister and daugh 
 ters he would probably have discountenanced the acquaint 
 ance altogether ; but owing to the ignorance of the rest of 
 her friends of what had passed, Mrs. Wilson and Emily had 
 not only the assiduities of Lady Laura but the wishes of their 
 own family to contend with, and consequently she submitted 
 to the association with a reluctance that was in some measure 
 counteracted by their regard for Lady Laura, and by com 
 passion for her abused confidence. 
 
 A distant connexion of Lady Moseley s had managed to 
 collect in her house a few hundred of her nominal friends, 
 and as she had been particularly attentive in calling in person 
 on her venerable relative, Mr. Benfield, soon after his arrival 
 in town, out of respect to her father s cousin, or perhaps mind 
 ful of his approaching end, and remembering there were such 
 things as codicils to wills, the old man, flattered by her notice, 
 and yet too gallant to reject the favor of a lady, consented to 
 accompany the remainder of the family on the occasion. 
 
 Most of their acquaintances were there, and Lady Moseley 
 soon found herself engaged in a party at quadrille, while the 
 young people were occupied by the usual amusements of 
 their age in such scenes. Emily alone feeling but little desire 
 to enter into the gaiety of general conversation with a host of 
 gentlemen who had collected round her aunt and sisters, 
 
402 PRECAUTION. 
 
 offered her arm to Mr. Benfield, on seeing- him manifest a dis 
 position to take a closer view of the company, and walked 
 away with him. 
 
 They wandered from room to room, unconscious of the 
 observation attracted by the sight of a man in the costume 
 of Mr. Benfield, leaning on the arm of so young and lovely a 
 woman as his niece ; and many an exclamation of surprise, 
 ridicule, admiration, and wonder had been made, unnoticed 
 by the pair, until finding the crowd rather inconvenient to her 
 companion, Emily gently drew him into one of the apart 
 ments where the card-tables, and the general absence of 
 beauty, made room less difficult to be found. 
 
 " Ah ! Emmy dear," said the old gentleman, wiping his 
 face, " times are much changed, I see, since my youth. Then 
 you would see no such throngs assembled in so small a 
 space ; gentlemen shoving ladies, and yes, Emmy," continued 
 her uncle in a lower tone, as if afraid of uttering something 
 dangerous, the ladies themselves shouldering the men. I 
 remember at a drum given by Lady Gosford, that although 
 I may, without vanity, say I was one of the gallantest 
 men in the rooms, I came in contact with but one of the 
 ladies during the whole evening, with the exception of hand 
 ing the Lady Juliana to a chair, and that," said her uncle, 
 stopping short and lowering his voice to a whisper, " was 
 occasioned by a mischance in the old duchess in rising from 
 her seat when she had taken too much strong waters, as she 
 was at tunes a little troubled with a pain in the chest." 
 
 Emily smiled at the casualty of her grace, and they pro 
 ceeded slowly through the table until their passage was 
 stopped by a party at the game of whist, which, by its incon 
 gruous mixture of ages and character, forcibly drew hef 
 attention. 
 
 The party was composed of a young man of five or six and 
 
PRECAUTION. 403 
 
 twenty, who threw down his cards in careless indifference, 
 and heedlessly played with the guineas which were laid on 
 the side of the table as markers, or the fruits of a former vic 
 tory : or by stealing hasty and repeated glances through the 
 vista of the tables into the gayer scenes of the adjoining 
 rooms, proved he was in duresse, and waited for an oppor 
 tunity to make his escape from the tedium of cards and ugli 
 ness to the life pf conversation and beauty. 
 
 His partner was a woman of doubtful age, and one whose 
 countenance rather indicated that the uncertainty was likely 
 to continue until the record of the tomb-stone divulged the 
 so often contested circumstance to the world. Her eyes also 
 wandered to the gayer scenes, but with an expression of cen- 
 soriousness mingled with longings ; nor did she neglect the 
 progress of the game as frequently as her more heedless part 
 ner. A glance thrown on the golden pair which was placed 
 between her and her neighbor on her right, marked the im 
 portance of the corner, and she shuffled the cards with a 
 nervousness which plainly denoted her apprehension of the 
 consequences of her partner s abstraction. 
 
 Her neighbor on the right was a man of sixty, and his vest 
 ments announced him a servant of the sanctuary. His 
 intentness on the game proceeded no doubt from his habits 
 of reflection ; his smile at success, quite possibly from charity 
 to his neighbors ; his frown in adversity from displeasure at 
 the triumphs of the wicked, for such in his heart he had set 
 down Miss Wigram to be ; and his unconquerable gravity in 
 the employment from a profound regard to the dignity of his 
 holy office. 
 
 The fourth performer in this trial of memories was an 
 ancient lady, gaily dressed, and intently eager on the game. 
 Between her and the young man was a large pile of guineas, 
 which appeared to be her exclusive property, from which she 
 
404 PRECAUTION". 
 
 repeatedly, during the play, tendered one to his acceptance on 
 the event of a hand or a trick, and to which she seldom failed 
 from inadvertence to add his mite, contributing to accumulate 
 the pile. 
 
 " Two double and the rub, my dear doctor, exclaimed the 
 senior lady, in triumph. " Sir William, you owe me ten." 
 
 The money was paid as easily as it had been won, and 
 the dowager proceeded to settle some bets .with her female 
 antagonist. 
 
 " Two more, I fancy, ma am," said she, closely scanning 
 the contributions of the maiden. 
 
 " I believe it is right, my lady," was the answer, with a 
 look that said pretty plainly, that or nothing. 
 
 " I beg pardon, my dear, here are but four ; and you 
 remember two on the corner, and four on the points. Doc 
 tor, I will trouble you for a couple of guineas from Miss 
 Wigram s store, I am in haste to get to the Countess s route." 
 
 The doctor was coolly helping himself from the said store, 
 under the watchful eyes of its owner, and secretly exulting in 
 his own judgment in requiring the stakes, when the maiden 
 replied in great warmth, 
 
 " Your ladyship forgets the two you lost to me at Mrs. 
 Howard s." 
 
 " It must be a mistake, my dear, I always pay as I lose," 
 cried the dowager, with great spirit, stretching over the 
 table and helping herself to the disputed money. 
 
 Mr. Benfield and Emily had stood silent spectators of the 
 whole scene, the latter in astonishment to meet such manners 
 in such society, and the former under feelings it would have 
 been difficult to describe ; for in the face of the Dowager, 
 which was inflamed partly from passion and more from high- 
 living, he recognised the remains of his Lady Juliana, now 
 the Dowager Viscountess Haverford. 
 

 PRECAUTION. 405 
 
 " Emmy, dear," said the old man, with a heavy-drawn 
 sigh, as if awaking from a long and troubled dream, " we 
 will go." 
 
 The phantom of forty years had vanished before the truth 
 and the fancies of retirement, simplicity, and a diseased ima 
 gination yielded to the influence of life and common sense. 
 
406 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 WITH Harriet, now closely connected with them by mar 
 riage as well as attachment, the baronet s family maintained 
 a most friendly intercourse ; and Mrs. Wilson, and Emily, a 
 prodigious favorite with her new cousin, consented to pass a 
 day soberly with her during an excursion of her husband to 
 Windsor on business connected with his station. They had, 
 accordingly, driven round to an early breakfast ; and Chat- 
 terton, after politely regretting his loss, and thanking them 
 for their consideration for his wife, made his bow. 
 
 Lady Harriet Denbigh had brought the Baron a very sub 
 stantial addition to his fortune ; and as his sisters were both 
 provided for by ample settlements, the pecuniary distresses 
 which had existed a twelvemonth before had been entirely 
 removed. Chatterton s income was now large, his demands 
 upon it small, and he kept up an establishment in proportion 
 to the rank of both husband and wife. 
 
 " Mrs. Wilson," cried the hostess, twirling her cup as she 
 followed with her eyes the retreating figure of her husband 
 at the door, " I am about to take up the trade of Miss Harris, 
 and become a match-maker." 
 
 " Not on your own behalf so soon, surely./ rejoined the 
 widow. 
 
 " Oh no, my fortune is made for life, or not at all," con 
 tinued the other, gaily ; " but in behalf of our little friend 
 Emily here." 
 
 " Me," cried Emily, starting from a reverie, in which the 
 
PRECAUTION. 407 
 
 prospect of happiness to Lady Laura was the subject ; " you 
 are very good, Harriet ; for whom do you intend me ?" 
 
 " Whom ! Who is good enough for you, but my cousin 
 Pendennyss ? Ah !" she cried, laughing, as she caught 
 Emily by the hand, " Derwent and myself both settled the 
 matter long since, and I know you will yield when you come 
 to know him." 
 
 " The duke !" cried the other, \vith a surprise and innocence 
 that immediately brought a blush of the brightest vermillion 
 into her face. 
 
 " Yes, the duke," said Lady Chatterton : " you may think 
 it odd for a discarded lover to dispose of his mistress so soon, 
 but both our hearts are set upon it. The earl arrived last 
 night, and this day he and his sister dine with us in a sober 
 way : now, my dear madam," turning to Mrs. Wilson, * have 
 I not prepared an agreeable surprise for you ?" 
 
 " Surprise indeed," said the widow, excessively gratified at 
 the probable termination to her anxieties for this meeting; 
 " but where are they from ?" 
 
 " From Northamptonshire, where the earl has already pur 
 chased a residence, I understand, and in your neighborhood 
 too ; so, you perceive, lie at least begins to think of the thing." 
 
 " A certain evidence, truly," cried Emily, " his having 
 purchased the house. But was he without a residence that 
 he bought the deanery ?" 
 
 " Oh no ! he has a palace in town, and three seats in the 
 country ; but none in Northamptonshire but this," said the 
 lady, with a laugh. " To own the truth he did offer to let 
 George Denbigh have it for the next summer, but the Colo 
 nel chose to be nearer Eltringham ; and I take it, it was only 
 a ruse in the earl to cloak his own designs. You may de 
 pend upon it, we trumpeted your praises to him incessantly 
 in Westmoreland." 
 
408 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " And is Colonel Denbigh in town ?" said Mrs. Wilson, 
 stealing an anxious glance towards her niece, who, in spite 
 of all her efforts, sensibly changed color. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! and Laura is as happy as happy as myself," 
 said Lady Chatterton, with a glow on her cheeks, as she 
 attended to the request of her housekeeper, and left the room. 
 
 Her guests sat in silence, occupied with their own reflec 
 tions, while they heard a summons at the door of the house. 
 It was opened, and footsteps approached the door of their 
 own room. It was pushed partly open, as a voice on the 
 other side said, speaking to a servant without, 
 
 "Very well. Do not disturb your lady. I am in no 
 haste." 
 
 At the sound of its well known tones, both the ladies 
 almost sprang from their seats. Here could be no resem 
 blance, and a moment removed their doubts. The speaker 
 entered. It was Denbigh. 
 
 He stood for a moment fixed as a statue. It was evident 
 the surprise was mutual. His face was pale as death, and 
 then instantly was succeeded by a glow of fire. Approach 
 ing them, he paid his compliments with great earnestness, 
 and in a voice in which his softest tones preponderated. 
 
 " I am happy, very happy, to be so fortunate in again 
 meeting with such friends, and so unexpectedly." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson bowed in silence to his compliment, and 
 Emily, pale as himself, sat with her eyes fastened on the 
 carpet, without daring to trust her voice with an attempt to 
 speak. 
 
 After struggling with his mortified feelings for a moment, 
 Denbigh rose from the chair he had taken, and drawing 
 near the sofa on which the ladies were placed, exclaimed 
 with fervor, 
 
 " Tell me, dear madam, lovely, too lovely Miss Moseley, 
 
PRECAUTION. 409 
 
 has one act of folly, of wickedness if you please, lost me 
 your -good opinion for ever? Derwent had given me hopes 
 that you yet retained some esteem for my character, lowered, 
 as I acknowledge it to be, in my own estimation." 
 
 " The Duke of Derwent ? Mr. Denbigh !" 
 
 " Do not, do not use a name, dear madam, almost hateful 
 to me," cried he, in a tone of despair. 
 
 " If," said Mrs. Wilson, gravely, " you have made your 
 own name disreputable, I can only regret it, but " 
 
 " Call me by my title oh ! do not remind me of my 
 folly ; I cannot bear it, and from you." 
 
 " Your title !" exclaimed Mrs. Wilson, with a cry of won 
 der, and Emily turned on him a face in which the flashes 
 of color and succeeding paleness were as quick, and almost 
 as vivid, as the glow of lightning. He caught their astonish 
 ment in equal surprise. 
 
 " How is this ? some dreadful mistake, of which I am yet 
 in ignorance," he cried, taking the unresisting hand of Mi s. 
 Wilson, and pressing it with warmth between both his own, 
 as he added, " do not leave me in suspense." 
 
 " For the sake of truth, for my sake, for the sake of this 
 suffering innocent, say, in sincerity, who and what you are," 
 said Mrs. Wilson in a solemn voice, gazing on him in dread 
 of his reply. 
 
 Still retaining her hand, he dropped on his knees before 
 her, as he answered, 
 
 " I am the pupil, the child of your late husband, the com 
 panion of his dangers, the sharer of his joys and griefs, and 
 would I could add, the friend of his widow. I am the Earl 
 of Pendennyss." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson s head dropped on the shoulders of the 
 kneeling youth, her arms were thrown in fervor around his 
 neck, and she burst into a flood of tears. For a moment, 
 18 
 
410 PRECAUTION. 
 
 both were absorbed in their own feelings ; but a cry from 
 Pendennyss aroused the aunt to the situation of her niece. 
 
 Emily had fallen senseless on the sofa. 
 
 An hour elapsed before her engagements admitted of 
 the return of Lady Chatterton to the breakfast parlor, where 
 she was surprised to find the breakfast equipage yet standing, 
 and her cousin, the earl. Looking from one to the other in 
 surprise, she exclaimed, 
 
 " Very sociable, upon my word ; how long has your lord 
 ship honored my house with your presence, and have you 
 taken the liberty to introduce yourself to Mrs. Wilson and 
 Miss Moseley ?" 
 
 ** Sociability and ease are the fashion of the day. I have 
 been here an hour, my dear coz, and have taken the liberty 
 of introducing myself to Mrs. Wilson and Miss Moseley," 
 replied the earl gravely, although a smile of meaning lighted 
 his handsome features as he uttered the latter part of the 
 sentence, which was returned by Emily with a look of arch 
 ness and pleasure that would have graced her happiest 
 moments of juvenile joy. 
 
 There was such an interchange of looks, and such a visible 
 alteration in the appearance of her guests, that it could not 
 but attract the notice of Lady Chatterton. After listening 
 to the conversation between them for some time in silence, 
 and wondering what could have wrought so sudden a change 
 below stairs, she broke forth with saying, 
 
 " Upon my word, you are an incomprehensible party to 
 me. I left you ladies alone, and find a gentleman with you. 
 I left you grave, if not melancholy, and find you all life and 
 gaiety. I find you with a stranger, and you talk with him 
 about walks, and rides, and scenes, and acquaintances. Will 
 you, madam, or you, my lord, be so kind as to explain these 
 seeming inconsistencies ?" 
 
PRECAUTION. 4 1 1 
 
 " No," cried the earl, " to punish your curiosity, I will 
 keep you in ignorance ; but Marian is in waiting for me at 
 jour neighbor s, Mrs. Wilmot, and I must hasten to her 
 you will see us both by five." Rising from his seat he took 
 the offered hand of Mrs. Wilson and pressed it to his lips 
 To Emily he also extended his hand, and received hers in 
 return, though with a face suffused with the color of the 
 rose. Pendennyss held it to his heart for a moment with 
 fervor, and kissing it, precipitately left the room. Emily 
 concealed her face with her hands, and, dissolving in tears, 
 sought the retirement of an adjoining apartment. 
 
 All these unaccountable movements filled Lady Chatterton 
 with amazement, that would have been too painful for fur 
 ther endurance ; and Mrs. Wilson, knowing that further 
 concealment with so near a connexion would be impossible, 
 if not unnecessary, entered into a brief explanation of the 
 earl s masquerade (although ignorant herself of its cause, or 
 of the means of supporting it), and his present relation with 
 her niece. 
 
 " I declare it is provoking," cried Lady Chatterton, with a 
 tear in her eye, ** to have such ingenious plans as Derwent 
 and I had made lost from the want of necessity in putting 
 them in force. Your demure niece has deceived us all 
 handsomely; and my rigid cousin, too I will rate him 
 soundly for his deception." 
 
 rt I believe he already repents sincerely of his having 
 practised it," said Mrs. Wilson, " and is sufficiently punished 
 for his error by its consequence. A life of misery for four 
 months is a serious penalty to a lover." 
 
 " Yes," said the other ; u I am afraid his punishment was 
 not confined to himself alone : he has made others suffer 
 from his misconduct. I will rate him famously, depend upon 
 it I will" 
 
412 PRECAUTION. 
 
 If anything, the interest felt by Lady Chatterton for her 
 friend was increased by this discovery of the affections of 
 Fender) nyss, and a few hours were passed by the three, in 
 we will not say sober delight, for transport would be a better 
 word. Lady Chatterton frankly declared that she would 
 rather see Emily the wife of the earl than of her brother, for 
 he alone was good enough for her and Mrs. Wilson felt an 
 exhilaration of spirits, in the completion of her most sanguine 
 wishes, that neither her years, her philosophy, nor even her 
 religion, could entirely restrain. The face of Emily was a 
 continued blush, her eye sparkled with the lustre of renewed 
 hope, and her bosom was heaving with the purest emotions 
 of happiness. 
 
 At the appointed hour the rattling of wheels announced 
 the approach of the earl and his sister. 
 
 Pendennyss came into the room with a young woman of 
 great personal beauty and extremely feminine manners, lean 
 ing on his arm. He first announced her to Mrs. Wilson as 
 his sister, Lady Marian Denbigh, who received her with a 
 frank cordiality that made them instantly acquainted. Emily, 
 although confiding in the fullest manner in the truth and 
 worth of her lover, had felt an inexplicable sensation of plea 
 sure, as she heard the earl speak of his sister by the name of 
 Marian ; love is such an unquiet, and generally such an en 
 grossing passion, that few avoid unnecessary uneasiness while 
 under its influence, unless so situated as to enjoy a mutual 
 confidence. 
 
 As this once so formidable Marian approached to salute 
 her with an extended hand, Ernily rose, with a face illumined 
 with pleasure, to receive her. Marian viewed her for a mo 
 ment intently, and folding her arms around her, whispered 
 softly as she pressed her to her heart, 
 
 " My sister, my only sister." 
 
PRECAUTION. 413 
 
 Our heroine was affected to tears, and Pendennyss gently 
 separating the two he loved best in the world, they soon 
 became calm* 
 
 Lady Marian was extremely like her brother, and had a 
 family resemblance to her cousin Harriet ; but her manners 
 were softer and more retiring, and she had a slight tinge of 
 a settled melancholy. When her brother spoke she was 
 generally silent, not hi fear, but in love. She evidently 
 regarded him amongst the first of human beings, and all her 
 love was amply returned. 
 
 Both the aunt and niece studied the manners of the earl 
 closely, and found several shades of distinction between what 
 he was and what he had been. He was now the perfect man 
 of the world, without having lost the frank sincerity which 
 caused you to believe all he said. Had Pendennyss once 
 told Mrs. Wilson, with his natural air and manner, " I am 
 innocent," she would have believed him, and an earlier inves 
 tigation would have saved them months of misery ; but the 
 consciousness of his deception had oppressed him with the 
 curse of the wicked. 
 
 Pendennyss had lost that ah* of embarrassment and alarm 
 which had so often startled the aunt, even in her hours of 
 greatest confidence, and which had then: original in the 
 awkwardness of disguise. But he retained his softness, his 
 respect, his modest diffidence of his opinions, although some 
 what corrected now by his acknowledged experience and 
 acquaintance with man. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson thought these decided trifling alterations in 
 manner were improvements ; but it required some days and 
 a few tender speeches to reconcile Emily to any change in 
 the appearance of Denbigh. 
 
 Lady Marian had ordered her carriage early, as she had *io* 
 anticipated the pleasure she found, and was engaged to ao 
 
414 PRECAUTION. 
 
 company her cousin, Lady Laura, to a fashionable rout that 
 evening. Unwilling to be torn from his newly found friends, 
 the earl proposed that the three ladies should accompany his 
 sister to Annerdale House, and then accept himself as an 
 escort to their own residence. To this Harriet assented, 
 and leaving a message for Chatterton, they entered the coach 
 of Marian, and Pendennyss, mounting the dickey, drove off. 
 
 Annerdale House was amongst the best edifices of London. 
 It had been erected in the preceding century, and Emily for a 
 moment felt, as she went through its splendid apartments, 
 that it threw a chill around her domestic affections ; but the 
 figure of Pendennyss by her side reconciled her to a magni 
 ficence she had been unused to, which looked the lord indeed ; 
 but with so much modesty and softness, and so much atten 
 tion to herself, that before she left the house, Emily began to 
 think it very possible to enjoy happiness even in the lap of 
 splendor. 
 
 The names of Colonel Denbigh and Lady Laura were soon 
 announced, and this formidable gentleman made his appear 
 ance. He resembled Pendennyss more than even the duke, 
 and appeared about the same age. 
 
 Mrs. Wilson soon saw that she had no grounds for pitying 
 Lady Laura. The colonel was a polished, elegant man, of evi 
 dent good sense and knowledge of the world, and apparently 
 devoted to his wife. He was called George frequently by 
 all his relatives, and he, not unfrequently, used the same term 
 himself in speaking to the earl. Something was said of a 
 much admired bust, and the doors of a large library were 
 opened to view it. Emily was running over the backs of a 
 case of books, until her eye rested on one ; and half smiling 
 and blushing she turned to Pendennyss, who watched every 
 movement, as she said, playfully, 
 
 " Pity me, my lord, and lend me this volume." 
 
PRECAUTION. 415 
 
 ** What is it you read ?" lie asked, as he bowed his cheer 
 ful assent. 
 
 But Emily hid the book in her handkerchief. Pendennyss 
 noticing an unwillingness, though an extremely playful one, 
 to let him into the secret, examined the case, and perceiving 
 her motive, smiled, as he took down another volume and 
 said 
 
 " I am not an Irish, but an English peer, Emily. You had 
 the wrong volume." 
 
 Emily laughed, with deeper blushes, when she found her 
 wishes detected, while the earl, opening the volume he held 
 the first of Debrett s Peerage pointed with his finger to 
 the article concerning his own family, and said to Mrs. Wil 
 son, who had joined them at the instant 
 
 " To-morrow, dear madam, I shall beg your attention to a 
 melancholy tale, and which may, in some slight degree, ex 
 tenuate the offence I was guilty of in assuming, or rather in 
 maintaining an accidental disguise." 
 
 As he ended, he went to the others, to draw off their atten 
 tion, while Emily and her aunt examined the paragraph. It 
 was as follows : 
 
 " George Denbigh Earl of Pendennyss and Baron Lum- 
 ley, of Lumley Castle Baron Pendennyss Beaumaris, and 
 Fitzwalter, born , of , in the year of ; a ba 
 chelor." The list of earls and nobles occupied several pages, 
 but the closing article was as follows : 
 
 " George, the 21st earl, succeeded his mother Marian, late 
 Countess of Pendennyss, in her own right, being born of her 
 marriage with George Denbigh, Esq., a cousin-german to 
 Frederick, the 9th Duke of Derwent." 
 
 " Heir apparent. The titles being to heirs general, will 
 descend to his lordship s sister, Lady Marian Denbigh, should 
 the present earl die without lawful issue." 
 
416 PRECAUTION. 
 
 As much of the explanation of the mystery ot our tale is 
 involved in the foregoing paragraphs, we may be allowed to 
 relate in our own language, what Pendennyss made his 
 friends acquainted with at different times, and in a mannet 
 suitable to the subject and his situation. 
 
PRECAUTION. 4 1 7 
 
 CHAPTER XLL 
 
 IT was at the close of that war which lost this country the 
 wealthiest and most populous of her American colonies, that 
 a fleet of ships were returning from their service amongst the 
 islands of the New World, to seek for their worn out and 
 battered hulks, and equally weakened crews, the repairs and 
 comforts of England and home. 
 
 The latter word, to the mariner the most endearing of all 
 sounds, had, as it were, drawn together by instinct a group 
 of sailors on the forecastle of the proudest ship of the squad 
 ron, who gazed with varied emotions on the land which gave 
 them birth, but with one common feeling of joy that the day 
 of attaining it was at length arrived. 
 
 The water curled from the bows of this castle of the ocean, 
 in increasing waves and growing murmurs, that at times drew 
 the attention of the veteran tar to their quickening progress, 
 and having cheered his heart with the sight, he cast his expe 
 rienced eye in silence on the swelling sails, to see if nothing 
 more could be done to shorten the distance between him and 
 his country. 
 
 Hundreds of eyes were fixed on the land of their birth, and 
 hundreds of hearts were beating in that one vessel with the 
 awakening delights of domestic love and renewed affections ; 
 but no tongue broke the disciplined silence of the ship into 
 sounds that overcame the propitious ripple of the water. 
 
 On the highest summit of their towering mast floated a 
 small blue flag, the symbol of authority, and beneath it 
 paced a man to and fro the deck, who was abandoned by his 
 18* 
 
418 PRECAUTION. 
 
 inferiors to his more elevated rank. His square-built form 
 and careworn features, which had lost the brilliancy of an 
 English complexion, and hair whitened prematurely, spoke 
 of bodily vigor, and arduous services which had put that 
 vigor to the severest trials. 
 
 At each turn of his walk, as he faced the land of his 
 nativity, a lurking smile stole over his sun-burnt features, and 
 then a glance of his eye would scan the progress of the 
 far-stretched squadron which obeyed his orders, and which 
 he was now returning to his superiors, undiminished in 
 numbers, and proud with victory. 
 
 By himself stood an officer in a uniform differing from all 
 around him. His figure was small, his eye restless, quick, 
 and piercing, and bent on those shores to which he was 
 unwillingly advancing, with a look of anxiety and mortifica 
 tion, that showed him the late commander of those vessels 
 around them, which, by displaying their double flags, mani 
 fested to the eye of the seaman a recent change of masters. 
 
 Occasionally the conqueror would stop, and by some 
 effort of well meant, but rather uncouth civility, endeavor to 
 soften the hours of captivity ; efforts which were received 
 with the courtesy of the most punctilious etiquette, but a 
 restraint which showed that they were unwelcome. 
 
 It was, perhaps, the most unlucky moment that had 
 occurred within the two months of their association, for an 
 exchange of their better feelings. The honest heart of the 
 English tar dilated with ill-concealed delight at his approach 
 to the termination of labors performed with credit and 
 honor, and his smiles and good humor, which partly pro 
 ceeded from the feelings of a father and a friend, were 
 daggers to the heart of his discomfited rival. 
 
 A third personage now appeared from the cabin of the 
 vessel, and approached the spot where the adverse admirals 
 
PRECAUTION. 419 
 
 at the moment were engaged in one of these constrained 
 conferences. 
 
 The appearance and dress of this gentleman differed 
 widely from the two just described. He was tall, graceful, 
 and dignified ; he was a soldier, and clearly of high rank. 
 His carefully dressed hair concealed the ravages of time; 
 and on the quarter-deck of a first-rate his attire and manners 
 were suited to a field-day in the park. 
 
 " I really insist, monsieur," cried the admiral, good- 
 naturedly, " that you shall take part of my chaise to London. 
 You are a stranger, and it will help to keep up your spirits 
 by the way." 
 
 " You are very good, Monsieur Howell," replied the 
 Frenchman, with a polite bow and forced smile, misconstru 
 ing ill-judged benevolence into a wish for his person to 
 grace a triumph " but I have accepted the offer Monsieur 
 le General Denbigh was so good as to make me." 
 
 " The comte is engaged to me, Howell," said the general, 
 with a courtly smile, l4 and, indeed, you must leave the ship 
 to-night, or as soon as we anchor. But I shall take daylight 
 and to-morrow." 
 
 " Well well Denbigh," exclaimed the other, rubbing 
 his hands with pleasure as he viewed the increasing power 
 of the wind, " only make yourselves happy, and I am con 
 tented." 
 
 A few hours intervened before they reached the Bay of 
 Plymouth, and round the table, after their dinner, were 
 seated the general and English admiral. The comte, under 
 the pretence of preparing his things, for a removal, had 
 retired to his apartment to conceal his feelings ; and the 
 captain of the ship was above, superintending the approach 
 of the vessel to her anchorage. Two or three well emptied 
 bottles of wine yet remained ; but as the healths of all the 
 
420 . PRECAUTION. 
 
 branches of the House of Brunswick had been propitiated 
 from their contents, with a polite remembrance of Louis XVI. 
 and Marie Antoinette from General Denbigh, neither of the 
 superiors was much inclined for action. 
 
 " Is the Thunderer in her station ?" said the admiral to 
 the signal lieutenant, who at that moment came below with 
 a report. 
 
 " Yes, sir, and has answered." 
 
 " Very well ; make the signal to prepare to anchor." 
 
 "Aye, aye, sir." 
 
 " And here, Bennet," to the retiring lieutenant " call the 
 transports all in shore of us." 
 
 "Three hundred and eighty-four, sir," said the officer, 
 looking at his signal-book. 
 
 The admiral cast his eye at the book, and nodded an 
 assent. 
 
 " And let the Mermaid Flora Weasel Bruiser, and all 
 the sloops lie well off, until we have landed the soldiers : the 
 pilot says the channel is full of luggers, and Jonathan has 
 grown very saucy." 
 
 The lieutenant made a complying bow, and was retiring 
 to execute these orders, as Admiral Howell, taking up a 
 bottle not yet entirely deserted by its former tenant, cried 
 stoutly " Here, Bennet I forgot take a glass of wine ; 
 drink success to ourselves, and defeat to the French all over 
 the world. 7 
 
 The general pointed significantly to the adjoining cabin 
 of the French admiral, as he pressed his hand on nis lips for 
 silence. 
 
 " Oh !" cried Admiral Howell, recollecting himself, con 
 tinuing in a whisper, " you can drink it in your heart, 
 notwithstanding." 
 
 The signal officer nodded, and drank the liquor. As he 
 
PRECAUTION. 42 J 
 
 imacked his lips while going on deck, he thought to himself, 
 these nabobs drink famous good wine. 
 
 Although the feelings of General Denbigh were under 
 much more command and discfplined obedience than those 
 of his friend, yet was he too unusually elated with his return 
 to home and expected honors. If the admiral had captured 
 a fleet, he had taken an island ; and hand in hand they 
 had co-operated in unusual harmony through the difficulties 
 of an arduous campaign. This rather singular circumstance 
 was owing to their personal friendship. From their youth 
 they had been companions, and although of very different 
 characters and habits, chance had cemented their intimacy 
 in more advanced life. While in subordinate stations, they 
 had been associated together in service ; and the general 
 and admiral, in command of an army and fleet, had once 
 before returned to England with less renown, as a colonel 
 and a captain of a frigate. The great family influence of 
 the soldier, with the known circumstance of their harmony, 
 had procured them this later command, and home, with its 
 comforts and rewards, was close before them. Pouring out 
 a glass of Madeira, the general, who always calculated what 
 he said, exclaimed, 
 
 " Peter we have been friends from boys." 
 
 " To be sure we have," said the admiral, looking up in a 
 little surprise at this unexpected commencement "and it 
 will not be my fault if we do not die such, Frederick." 
 
 Dying was a subject the general did not much delight in, 
 although of conspicuous courage in the field ; and he pro 
 ceeded to his more important purpose 
 
 " I could never find, although I have looked over our family 
 tree so often, that we are in any manner related, Howell." 
 
 " I believe it is too late to mend that matter now," said the 
 admiral, musing. 
 
422 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Why no hem I think not, Howell ; take a glass of 
 this Burgundy." 
 
 The admiral shook his head with a stubborn resolution to 
 taste nothing French, but he helped himself to a bountiful 
 stock of Madeira, as he replied 
 
 " I should like to know how you can bring it about this 
 time of day, Denbigh." 
 
 " How much money will you be able to give that girl of 
 yours, Peter?" said his friend, evading the point. 
 
 " Forty thousand down, my good fellow, and as much 
 more when I die," cried the open-hearted sailor, with a nod 
 of exultation. 
 
 " George, my youngest son, will not be rich but Francis 
 will be a duke, and have a noble estate ; yet," said the gene 
 ral, meditating, "he is so unhappy in his disposition and 
 uncouth in his manners, I cannot think of offering him to 
 your daughter as a husband." 
 
 "Isabel shall marry a good-natured man, like myself, or 
 not at all," said the admiral, positively, but not in the least 
 suspecting the drift of his friend, who was influenced by any 
 thing but a regard for the lady s happiness. 
 
 Francis, his first born, was, in truth, as he had described ; 
 but his governing wish was to provide for his favorite 
 George. Dukes could never want wives, but unportioned 
 captains in the guards might. 
 
 "George is one of the best tempers in the world," 
 said his father, with strong feeling, " and the delight of 
 us all. I could wish he had been the heir to the family 
 honors." 
 
 " That it is certainly too late to help," cried the admiral, 
 wondering if the ingenuity of his friend could devise a remedy 
 for this evil too. 
 
 " Too late, indeed," said the other, with a heavy sigh, " but 
 
PRECAUTION. 423 
 
 Howell, what say you to matching Isabel with my favorite 
 George ?" 
 
 " Denbigh," cried the sailor, eyeing him keenly, " Isabel is 
 my only child, and a dutiful, good girl ; one that will obey 
 orders if she breaks owners, as we sailors say. Now I did 
 think of marrying her to a seaman, when a proper man came 
 athwart my course ; yet your son is a soldier, and that is 
 next to being in the navy : if-so-be you had made him come 
 aboard me, when I wanted you to, there would have been no 
 objection at all ; however, when occasion offers, I will over 
 haul the lad, and if I find him staunch he may turn in with 
 Bell and welcome." 
 
 This was uttered in perfect simplicity, and with no inten 
 sion of giving offence, partaking partly of the nature of a soli 
 loquy ; so the general, greatly encouraged, was about to 
 push the point, when a gun was fired from their own ship. 
 
 " There s some of them lubberly transports won t mind our 
 signals ; they have had these soldiers so long on board, they 
 get as clumsy as the red-coats themselves," muttered the 
 admiral, hastening on deck to enforce his commands. 
 
 A shot or two, sent significantly in the direction of the 
 wanderers, but so as not to hit them, restored order ; and 
 within an hour forty line of battle ships and a hundred 
 transports were disposed in the best manner for convenience 
 and safety. 
 
 On their presentation to their sovereign, both veterans were 
 embellished with the riband of the Bath ; and as their exploits 
 filled the mouths of the newsmongers, and the columns of the 
 public prints of the day, the new knights began to think 
 more seriously of building a monument to their victories, in a 
 union between their children The admiral, however, de 
 termined to do nothing with his eyes shut, and he demanded 
 a scrutiny. 
 
424 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Where is the boy who is to be a duke ?" exclaimed he, 
 one day, when his friend had introduced the point with a 
 view to a final arrangement. " Bell has good blood in her 
 veins is a tight built little vessel clean heel d and trim, 
 and would make as good a duchess as the best of them ; so, 
 Denbigh, I will begin by taking a survey of the senior." 
 
 To this the general had no objection, as he well knew that 
 Francis would be wide of pleasing the tastes of an open- 
 hearted, simple man, like the sailor. They met, accordingly, 
 for what the general facetiously called the review, and what 
 the admiral innocently termed his survey, at the house of the 
 former, when the young gentlemen were submitted to his 
 inspection. 
 
 Francis Denbigh was about four and twenty, of a feeble 
 body, and with a face marked with the small-pox, to ap 
 proaching deformity ; his eye was brilliant and piercing, but 
 unsettled, and at times wild his manner awkward, con 
 strained, and timid. There would be seen, it is true, an intelli 
 gence and animation, which occasionally lighted his counte 
 nance into gleams of sunshine, that caused you to overlook 
 the lesser accompaniments of complexion and features in the 
 expression ; but they were transient, and inevitably vanished 
 whenever his father spoke or in any manner mingled in his 
 pursuits. 
 
 An observer close as Mrs. Wilson, would have said that 
 the feelings of the father and son were not such as ought to 
 exist between parent and child. 
 
 But the admiral, who regarded model and rigging a good 
 deal, satisfied himself with muttering, as he turned his eyes 
 on the junior 
 
 " He may do for a duke but I would not have him for a 
 cockswain." 
 
 George was a year younger than Francis ; in form, stature, 
 
PRECAUTION. 422 
 
 and personal grace, the counterpart of his father ; his eye 
 was less keen but more attractive than that of his brother ; 
 his air open, polished, and manly. 
 
 " Ah !" thought the sailor, as he ended a satisfactory sur 
 vey of the youth, " what a thousand pities Denbigh did not 
 Bend him to sea !" 
 
 The thing was soon settled, and George was to be the 
 happy man. Sir Peter concluded to dine with his friend, in 
 order to settle preliminaries over the bottle by themselves ; 
 the young men and their mother being engaged to their uncle 
 the duke. 
 
 " Well, Denbigh," cried the admiral, as the last servant 
 withdrew, " when do you mean to have the young couple 
 spliced ?" 
 
 "Why," replied the wary soldier, who knew he could not 
 calculate on obedience to his mandate with as great a cer 
 tainty as his friend " the better way is to bring the young 
 people together, in order that they may become acquainted, 
 you know." 
 
 " Acquainted together " cried his companion, in a little 
 surprise, " what better way is there to bring them together, 
 than to have them up before a priest, or to make them 
 acquainted by letting them swing in the same hammock ?" 
 
 " It might answer the end, indeed," said the general, with 
 a smile, " but somehow or other, it is always the best method 
 to bring young folks together, to let them have their own way 
 in the affair for a time." 
 
 " Own way !" rejoined Sir Peter, bluntly, " did you ever 
 find it answer to let a woman have her own way, Sir Fre 
 derick?" 
 
 " Not common women certainly, my good friend," said the 
 general, " but such a girl as mv intended daughter is an 
 exception." 
 
426 PRECAUTION. 
 
 " I don t know that," cried the sailor ; " Bell is a good girl, 
 but she has her quirks and whims like all the sex." 
 
 " You have had no trouble with her as yet, I believe, 
 Howell," said Sir Frederick cavalierly, throwing an inquiring 
 glance on his friend at the same time. 
 
 " No, not yet nor do I think she will ever dare to 
 mutiny ; but there has been one wishing to take her in tow 
 already since we got in." 
 
 " How !" said the other in alarm, " who what is he ? 
 some officer in the navy, I suppose." 
 
 " No, he was a kind of chaplain, one Parson Ives, a good 
 sort of a youth enough, and a prodigious favorite with my 
 sister, Lady Hawker." 
 
 " Well, what did you answer, Peter ?" said his companion 
 in increasing uneasiness ; " did you put him off ?" 
 
 " Off ! to be sure I did do you think I wanted a bar 
 ber s clerk for a son-in-law ? No, no, Denbigh ; a soldier is 
 bad enough, without having a preacher." 
 
 The general compressed his lips at this direct attack on 
 a profession that he thought the most honorable of any in 
 the world, in some resentment ; but remembering the eighty 
 thousand pounds, and accustomed to the ways of the other, 
 he curbed his temper, and inquired 
 
 " But Miss Howell your daughter how did she stand 
 affected to this priest ?" 
 
 " How why how ? why I never asked her." 
 
 " Never asked her ?" 
 
 14 No, never asked her : she is my daughter, you know, 
 and bound to obey my orders, and I did not choose she 
 should marry a parson ; but, once for all, when is the wed 
 ding to take place ?" 
 
 General Denbigh had indulged his younger son too 
 blindly and too fondly to expect that implicit obedience the 
 
PRECAUTION. 427 
 
 admiral calculated to a certainty on, and with every pros 
 pect of not being disappointed, from his daughter. Isabel 
 Howell was pretty, mild, and timid, and unused to oppose 
 any of her father s commands ; but George Denbigh was 
 haughty, positive, and self-willed, and unless the affair could 
 be so managed as to make him a willing assistant in the 
 courtship, his father knew it might be abandoned at once. 
 He thought his son might be led, but not driven ; and, rely 
 ing on his own powers for managing, the general saw his 
 only safety in executing the scheme was in postponing his 
 advances for a regular siege to the lady s heart. 
 
 Sir Peter chafed and swore at this circumlocution: the 
 thing could be done as well in a week as in a year ; and the 
 veterans, who, for a miracle, had agreed in their rival sta 
 tions, and in doubtful moments of success, were near splitting 
 on the point of marrying a girl of nineteen. 
 
 As Sir Peter both loved his friend, and had taken a pro 
 digious fancy to the youth, he however was fain to submit 
 to a short probation. 
 
 " You are always for going a round-about way to do a 
 thing," said the admiral, as he yielded the point. " Now, 
 when you took that battery, had you gone up in front, as I 
 advised you, you would have taken it in ten minutes, instead 
 of five hours." 
 
 " Yes," said the other, with a friendly shake of the hand 
 at parting, " and lost fifty men in place of one by the step." 
 
428 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTEK XLIL 
 
 THE Honorable General Denbigh was the youngest of 
 three sons. His seniors, Francis and George, were yet 
 bachelors. The death of a cousin had made Francis a duke 
 while yet a child, and both he and his favorite brother, 
 George, had decided on lives of inactivity and sluggishness. 
 
 " When I die, brother," the oldest would say, " you will 
 succeed me, and Frederick can provide heirs for the name 
 hereafter." 
 
 This arrangement had been closely adhered to, and the 
 two elder brothers reached the ages of fifty-five and fifty-six, 
 without altering their condition. In the mean time, Frederick 
 married a young woman of rank and fortune ; the fruits of 
 their union being the two young candidates for the hand of 
 Isabel Howell. 
 
 Francis Denbigh, the eldest son of the general, was natu 
 rally diffident, and, in addition, it was his misfortune to be 
 the reverse of captivating in external appearance. The small 
 pox sealed his doom ; ignorance, and the violence of the 
 attack, left him indelibly impressed with the ravages of that 
 dreadful disorder. On the other hand, his brother escaped 
 without any vestiges of the complaint ; and his spotless skin, 
 and fine open countenance, met the gaze of his mother, after 
 the recovery of the two, in striking contrast to the deformed 
 lineaments of his elder brother. Such an occurrence is sure 
 to excite one of two feelings in the breast of every beholder 
 pity or disgust ; and, unhappily for Francis, maternal 
 tenderness, in his case, was unable to counteract the latter 
 
PRECAUTION. 429 
 
 sensation. George become a favorite, and Francis a neutral. 
 The effect was easy to be seen, and it was rapid, as it was 
 indelible. 
 
 The feelings of Francis were sensitive to an extreme. He 
 had more quickness, more sensibility, more real talent than 
 George ; which enabled hiin to perceive, and caused him to 
 feel more acutely, the partiality of his mother. 
 
 As yet, the engagements and duties of the general had 
 kept his children and their improvements out of his sight ; 
 but at the ages of eleven and twelve, the feelings of a father, 
 began to take pride in the possession of his sons. 
 
 On his return from a foreign station, after an absence of 
 two years, his children were ordered from school to meet 
 him. Francis had improved in stature, but not in beauty ; 
 George had flourished in both. 
 
 The natural diffidence of the former was increased, by 
 perceiving that he was no favorite, and the effect began to 
 show itself on manners at no time engaging. He met his 
 father with doubt, and he saw with anguish, that the embrace 
 received by his brother much exceeded in warmth that 
 which had been bestowed on himself. 
 
 " Lady Margaret," said the general to his wife, as he fol 
 lowed the boys as they retired from the dinner table, with 
 his eyes, " it is a thousand pities George had not been the 
 elder. He would have graced a dukedom or a throne. 
 Frank is only fit for a parson." 
 
 This ill-judged speech was uttered sufficiently loud to be 
 overheard by both the sons : on the younger, it made a 
 pleasurable sensation for the moment. His father his dear 
 father, had thought him fit to be a king ; and his father must 
 be a judge, whispered his native vanity ; but all this time 
 the connexion between the speech and his brother s rights 
 did not present themselves to his mind. George loved this 
 
430 PRECAUTION. 
 
 brother too well, too sincerely, to have injured him even in 
 thought ; and so far as Francis was concerned, his vanity 
 was as blameless as it was natural. 
 
 The effect produced on the mind of Francis was different 
 both in substance and in degree. It mortified his pride, 
 alarmed his delicacy, and wounded his already morbid 
 sensibility to such an extent, as to make him entertain the 
 romantic notion of withdrawing from the world, and of 
 yielding a birthright to one so every way more deserving of 
 it than himself. 
 
 From this period might be dated an opinion of Francis s, 
 which never afterwards left him ; he fancied he was doing 
 injustice to another, and that other, a brother whom he 
 ardently loved, by continuing to exist. Had he met with 
 fondness in his parents, or sociability in his playfellows, these 
 fancies would have left him as he grew into life. But the 
 affections of his parents were settled on his more promising 
 brother ; and his manners daily increasing in their repulsive 
 traits, drove his companions to the society of others, more 
 agreeable to their own buoyancy and joy. 
 
 Had Francis Denbigh, at this age, met with a guardian 
 clear-sighted enough to fathom his real character, and com 
 petent to direct his onward course, he would yet have become 
 an ornament to his name and country, and a useful member 
 of society. But no such guide existed. His natural guardi 
 ans, in his particular case, were his worst enemies ; and the 
 boys left school for college four years afterwards, each advanc 
 ed in his respective properties of attraction and repulsion. 
 
 Irreligion is hardly a worse evil in a family than favorit 
 ism. When once allowed to exist, in the breast of the 
 parent, though hid apparently from all other eyes, its sad 
 consequences begin to show themselves. Effects are pro 
 duced, and we look in vain for the cause. The awakened 
 
PRECAUTION. 431 
 
 sympathies of reciprocal caresses and fondness are mistaken 
 for uncommon feelings, and the forbidding aspect of deadened 
 affections is miscalled native sensibility. 
 
 In this manner the evil increases itself, until manners are 
 formed, and characters created, that must descend with their 
 possessor to the tomb. 
 
 In the peculiar formation of the mind of Francis Denbigh, 
 the evil was doubly injurious. His feelings required sympa 
 thy and softness, and they met only with coldness and dis 
 gust. George alone was an exception to the rule. He did 
 love his brother; but even his gaiety and spirits finally 
 tired of the dull uniformity of the diseased habits of his 
 senior. 
 
 The only refuge Francis found in his solitude, amidst the 
 hundreds of the university, was in his muse and in the 
 powers of melody. The voice of his family has been fre 
 quently mentioned in these pages ; and if, as Lady Laura 
 had intimated, there had ever been a siren in the race, it was 
 a male one. He wrote prettily, and would sing these efforts 
 of his muse to music of his own, drawing crowds around his 
 windows, in the stillness of the night, to listen to sounds as 
 melodious as they were mournful. His poetical efforts par 
 took of the distinctive character of the man, being melan 
 choly, wild, and sometimes pious. 
 
 George was always amongst the most admiring of his 
 brother s auditors, and would feel a yearning of his heart 
 towards him, at such moments, that was painful. But 
 George was too young and too heedless, to supply the place of 
 a monitor, or to draw his thoughts into a more salutary train. 
 This was the duty of his parents, and should have been their 
 task. But the world, his rising honors, and his professional 
 engagements, occupied the time of the father; and fashion. 
 parties, and pleasure, killed the time of his mother. \Vl.eu 
 
432 PRECAUTION. 
 
 they did think of their children, it was of George; the 
 painful image of Francis being seldom admitted to disturb 
 their serenity. 
 
 George Denbigh was open-hearted without suspicion, and 
 a favorite. The first quality taxed his generosity, the 
 second subjected him to fraud, and the third supplied him 
 with the means. But these means sometimes failed. The 
 fortune of the general, though handsome, was not more than 
 competent to support his style of living. He expected to be 
 a duke himself one day, and was anxious to maintain an 
 appearance now that would not disgrace his future elevation. 
 A system of strict but liberal economy had been adopted in 
 the case of his sons. They had, for the sake of appearances, 
 a stated and equal allowance. 
 
 The duke had offered to educate the heir himself, and 
 under his own eye. But to this Lady Margaret had found 
 some ingenious excuse, and one that seemed to herself and 
 the world honorable^ to her natural feeling; but had the 
 oft er been made to George, these reasons would have vanished 
 in the desire to advance his interests, or to gratify his pro 
 pensities. Such decisions are by no means uncommon ; 
 parents having once decided on the merits and abilities of 
 their children, frequently decline the interference of third 
 persons, since the improvement of their denounced offspring 
 might bring their own judgment into question, if it did not 
 convey an indirect censure on their justice. 
 
 The heedlessness of George brought his purse to a state 
 of emptiness. His last guinea was gone, and two months 
 were wanting to the end of the quarter. George had played 
 and been cheated. He had ventured to apply to his mother 
 for small sums, when his dress or some trifling indulgence 
 required an advance ; and always with success. But here 
 were sixty guinea* gone at a blow, and pride, candor, for 
 
PRECAUTION. 433 
 
 bade his concealing the manner of his loss, if he made the 
 application. This was dreadful ; his own conscience re 
 proached him, and he had so often witnessed the violence of 
 his mother s resentments against Francis, for faults which 
 appeared to him very trivial, not to stand in the utmost dread 
 of her more just displeasure in the present case. 
 
 Entering the apartment of his brother, in this disturbed 
 condition, George threw himself into a chair, and with his 
 face concealed between his hands, sat brooding over his for 
 lorn situation. 
 
 " George !" said his brother, soothingly, " you are in dis 
 tress ; can I relieve you in any way ?" 
 
 " Oh no no no Frank ; it is entirely out of your 
 power." 
 
 "Perhaps not, my dear brother," continued the other, 
 endeavoring to draw his hand into his own. 
 
 * Entirely ! entirely ! said George. Then springing up in 
 despair, he exclaimed, " But I must live I cannot die." 
 
 " Live ! die !" cried Francis, recoiling in horror. " What 
 do you mean by such language ? Tell me, George, am I not 
 your brother ? Your only brother and best friend ?" 
 
 Francis felt he had no friend if George was not that friend, 
 and his face grew pale while the tears flowed rapidly down his 
 cheeks. 
 
 George could not resist such an appeal. He caught the 
 hand of his brother and made him acquainted with his losses 
 and his wants. 
 
 Francis mused some little time over his narration, ere he 
 broke silence. 
 
 " It was all you had ?" 
 
 " The last shilling," cried George, beating his head with 
 his hand. 
 
 " How much will you require to make out the quarter ! w 
 19 
 
434 PRECAUTION. 
 
 * Oh I must have at least fifty guineas, or how can I live 
 at all?" 
 
 The ideas of life in George were connected a good deal 
 with the manner it was to be enjoyed. His brother appeared 
 struggling with himself, and then turning to the other, con 
 tinued, 
 
 " But surely, under present circumstances, you could make 
 less do." 
 
 "Less, never hardly that" interrupted George, vehe 
 mently. " If Lady Margaret did not inclose me a note now 
 and then, how could we get along at all ? don t you find it 
 so yourself, brother ?" 
 
 "I don t know," said Francis, turning pale 
 
 " Don t know !" cried George, catching a view of his 
 altered countenance " you get the money, though ?" 
 
 " I do not remember it," said the other, sighing heavily. 
 
 " Francis," cried George, comprehending the truth, " you 
 shall share every shilling I receive in future you shall 
 indeed you shall." 
 
 " Well, then," rejoined Francis with a smile, " it is a bar 
 gain ; and you will receive from me a supply in your present 
 necessities." 
 
 Without waiting for an answer, Francis withdrew into an 
 inner apartment, and brought out the required sum for his 
 brother s subsistence for two months. George remonstrated, 
 but Francis was positive ; he had been saving, and his stock 
 was ample for his simple habits without it. 
 
 " Besides, you forget we are partners, and in the end I 
 shall be a gainer." 
 
 George yielded to his wants and his brother s entreaties, 
 and he gave him great credit for the disinterestedness of the 
 act. ^Several weeks passed without any further allusion to 
 this disagreeable subject, which had at least the favorable 
 
PRECAUTION. 435 
 
 result of making George more guarded and a better 
 student. 
 
 The brothers, from this period, advanced gradually in 
 those distinctive qualities which were to mark the future 
 men ; George daily improving in grace and attraction, Fran 
 cis, in an equal ratio, receding from those very attainments, 
 which it was his too great desire to possess. In the educa 
 tion of his sons, General Denbigh had preserved the appear 
 ance of impartiality ; his allowance to each was the same : 
 they were at the same college, they had been at the same 
 school ; and if Frank did not improve as much as his younger 
 brother, it was unquestionably his own obstinacy and stupi 
 dity, and surely not want of opportunity or favor. 
 
 Such, then, were the artificial and accidental causes, which 
 kept a noble, a proud, an acute but a diseased mind, in 
 acquirements much below another every way its inferior, 
 excepting in the happy circumstance of wanting those very 
 excellences, the excess and indiscreet management of which 
 proved the ruin instead of the blessing of their possessor. 
 
 The duke would occasionally rouse himself from his 
 lethargy, and complain to the father, that the heir of his 
 honors was far inferior to his younger brother in acquire 
 ments, and remonstrate against the course which produced 
 such an unfortunate inequality. On these occasions a super 
 ficial statement of his system from the general met the objec 
 tion ; they cost the same money, and he was sure he not only 
 wished but did everything an indulgent parent could, to 
 render Francis worthy of his future honors. Another evil of 
 the admission of feelings of partiality, in the favor of one 
 child, to the prejudice of another, is that the malady is con 
 tagious as well as lasting : it exists without our own know 
 ledge, and it seldom fails to affect those around us. The 
 uncle soon learnt to distinguish George as the hope of the 
 
436 PRECAUTION. 
 
 family, yet Francis must be the heir of its honors, and con. 
 sequently of its wealth. 
 
 The duke and his brother were not much addicted to 
 action, hardly to reflection J but if anything could rouse them 
 to either, it was the reputation of the house of Denbigh. 
 Their ideas of reputation, it is true, were of their own forming. 
 
 The hour at length drew near when George expected a 
 supply from the ill-judged generosity of his mother ; it came, 
 and with a heart beating with pleasure, the youth flew to the 
 room of Francis with a determination to force the whole of 
 his twenty pounds on his acceptance. On throwing open his 
 door, he saw his brother evidently striving to conceal some 
 thing behind his books. It was at the hour of breakfast, 
 and George had intended for a novelty to share his brother s 
 morning repast. They always met at dinner, but the other 
 meals were made in their own rooms. George looked in 
 vain for the usual equipage of the table ; suspicion flashed 
 upon him he threw aside the books, and a crust of bread 
 arid a glass of water met his eye ; the truth now flashed 
 upon him in all its force. 
 
 "Francis, my brother, to what has my extravagance 
 reduced you !" exclaimed the contrite George with a heart 
 nearly ready to burst. Francis endeavored to explain, but a 
 sacred regard to the truth held him tongue-tied, until drop 
 ping his head on the shoulder of George, he sobbed out 
 
 "It is a trifle ; nothing to what I would do for you, my 
 brother." 
 
 George felt all the horrors of remorse, and was much too 
 generous to conceal his error any longer ; he wrote a circum 
 stantial account of the whole transaction to Lady Margaret. 
 
 Francis for a few days was a new being. He had acted 
 nobly, his conscience approved of his motives, and of his 
 delicate concealment of them ; he in fact began to think there 
 
PRECAUTION. 437 
 
 were in himself the seeds of usefulness, as his brother, who 
 from this moment began to understand his character better, 
 attached himself more closely to him. 
 
 The eye of Francis met that of George with the look of 
 acknowledged affection, his mind became less moody, and his 
 face was sometimes embellished with a smile. 
 
 The reply of their mother to the communication of George 
 threw a damp on the revived hopes of the senior, and drove 
 him back into himself with tenfold humility. 
 
 " I am shocked, my child, to find that you have lowered 
 yourself, and forgot the family you belong to, so much as to 
 frequent those gambling-houses, which ought not to be suf 
 fered in the neighborhood of the universities : when at a 
 proper age and in proper company, your occasional indul 
 gence at cards I could not object to, as both your father and 
 myself sometimes resort to it as an amusement, but never in 
 low company. The consequence of mingling in such society 
 is, that you were cheated, and such will always be your lot 
 unless you confine yourself to associates more becoming your 
 rank and illustrious name. 
 
 " As to Francis, I see every reason to condemn the course 
 he has taken. Being the senior by a year, he should have 
 taken the means to prevent your falling into such company ; 
 and he should have acquainted me immediately with your 
 loss, in place of wounding your pride by subjecting you to 
 the mortification of receiving a pecuniary obligation from one 
 so little older than yourself, and exposing his own health by 
 a diet on bread and water, as you wrote me, for a whole 
 month. Both the general and myself are seriously displeased 
 with him, and think of separating you, as you thus connive 
 at each other s follies." 
 
 George was too indignant to conceal this letter and the 
 reflections of Francis were dreadful. 
 
438 PRECAUTION. 
 
 For a short time he actually meditated suicide, as the only 
 method of removing himself from before the advancement of 
 George. Had not George been more attentive and affec 
 tionate than formerly, the awful expedient might have been 
 resorted to. 
 
 From college the young men went, one into the army and 
 the other to the mansion of his uncle. George became an 
 elegant, gay, open-hearted, admired captain in the guards ; 
 and Francis stalked through the halls of his ancestors, their 
 acknowledged future lord, but a misanthrope ; hateful to 
 himself and disagreeable to all around him. 
 
 This picture may be highly wrought, but the effects, in 
 the case of Francis, were increased by the peculiar tone of 
 his diseased state of mind. The indulgence of favoritism, 
 nevertheless, always brings its own sad consequences, in a 
 greater or less degree, while it seldom fails to give sorrow 
 and penitence to the bosom of the parents. 
 
PRECAUTION. 43 y 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 No little art and management had been necessary to make 
 the admiral auxiliary to the indirect plan proposed by his 
 friend to bring George and Isabel together. This, however, 
 effected, the general turned his whole strategy to the impres 
 sion to be made on the heart of the young gentleman. 
 
 Sir Frederick Denbigh had the same idea of the virtue 
 of management as the Dowager Lady Chatterton, but he 
 understood human nature better. 
 
 Like a prudent officer, his attacks were all masked, and, 
 like a great officer, they seldom failed of success. 
 
 The young couple were thrown in each other s way, and 
 as Isabel was extremely attractive, somewhat the opposite 
 to himself in ardor of temperament and vivacity, modest, and 
 sensible, it cannot be expected that the association was 
 maintained by the youth with perfect impunity. Within a 
 couple of months he fancied himself desperately in love with 
 Isabel Howell ; and, in truth, he had some reason for the 
 supposition. 
 
 The general watched every movement of his son with a 
 wary and vigilant eye occasionally adding fuel to the 
 flame, by drawing his attention to projects of matrimony in 
 other quarters, until George began to think he was soon to 
 undergo a trial of his constancy, and in consequence he 
 armed himself with a double portion of admiration for his 
 Isabel, in order to enable himself to endure the persecution ; 
 while the admiral several times endangered the success of 
 the whole enterprise by volunteer contributions to the hopes 
 
440 PRECAUTION. 
 
 of the young man, which only escaped producing an oppo 
 site effect to that which was intended, by being mistaken fo* 
 the overflowings of good nature and friendship. 
 
 After suffering his son to get, as he thought, sufficiently 
 entangled in the snares of Cupid, Sir Frederick determined 
 to fire a volley from one of his masked batteries, which he 
 rightly judged would bring on a general engagement. They 
 were sitting at the table after dinner, alone, when the general 
 took the advantage of the name of Miss Howell being acci 
 dentally mentioned, to say 
 
 " By the by, George, my friend the admiral said some 
 thing yesterday on the subject of your being so much with 
 his daughter. I wish you to be cautious, and not to give 
 the old sailor offence in any way, for he is my particular 
 friend." 
 
 " He need be under no violent apprehensions," cried 
 George, coloring highly with shame and pride, " I am sure 
 a Denbigh is no unworthy match for a daughter of Sir Peter 
 Howell." 
 
 " Oh ! to be sure not, boy, we are as old a house as 
 there is in the kingdon, and as noble too ; but the admiral 
 has queer notions, and, perhaps, he has some cub of a sailor 
 in his eye for a son-in-law. Be prudent, my boy, be pru 
 dent ; that is all I ask of you." 
 
 The general, satisfied with the effect he had produced, 
 carelessly arose from his seat, and joined Lady Margaret in 
 her drawing-room. 
 
 George remained for several minutes musing on his father s 
 singular request, as well as the admiral s caution, when he 
 sprang from his seat, caught up his hat and sword, and in 
 ten minutes rang at Sir Peter s door in Grosvenor Square. 
 He was admitted, and ascending to the drawing-room, he 
 met the admiral on his way out. Nothing was further from 
 
PRECAUTION. 441 
 
 the thoughts of the veteran than a finesse like the general s j 
 and, delighted to see George on the battle-ground, h 
 pointed significantly over his shoulder towards the door of 
 the room Isabel was in, and exclaimed, with a good-natured 
 smile, 
 
 " There she is, my hearty ; lay her aside, and hang me if 
 she don t strike. I say, George, faint heart never won fair 
 lady : remember that, my boy ; no, nor a French ship." 
 
 George would have been at some loss to have reconciled 
 this speech to his father s caution, if time had been allowed 
 him to think at all ; but the door being open he entered, 
 and found Isabel endeavoring to hide her tears. 
 
 The admiral, dissatisfied from the beginning with the 
 tardy method of despatching things, thought he might be 
 of use in breaking the ice for George, by trumpeting his 
 praises on divers occasions to his daughter. Under all cir 
 cumstances, he thought she might be learning to love the 
 man, as he was to be her husband ; and speeches like the 
 following had been frequent of late from the parent to the 
 child : 
 
 " There s that youngster, George Denbigh : now, Bell, 
 is he not a fine looking lad ? Then I know he is brave. 
 His father before him was good stuff and a true Englishman. 
 What a proper husband he would make for a young woman, 
 he loves his king and country so ; none of your new-fangled 
 notions about religion and government, but a sober, religious 
 churchman ; that is, as much so, girl, as you can expect in 
 the guards. No Methodist, to be sure ; it s a great pity he 
 wasn t sent to sea, don t you think so? But cheer up, 
 girl, one of these days he may be taking a liking to you 
 yet." 
 
 Isabel, whose fears taught her the meaning of these 
 eloquent praises of Captain Denbigh, listened to these 
 19* 
 
442 PRECAUTION. 
 
 harangues in silence, and often meditated on their import by 
 herself in tears. 
 
 George approached the sofa on which the lady was seated 
 before she had time to conceal the traces of her sorrow, and 
 in a voice softened by emotion, he took her hand gently as 
 he said, 
 
 " What can have occasioned this distress to Miss Howell ? 
 If anything in my power to remove, or which a life devoted 
 to her service can mitigate, she has only to command me to 
 find a cheerful obedience." 
 
 " The trifling causes of sorrow in a young woman," replied 
 Isabel, endeavoring to smile, " will hardly require such 
 serious services to remove them." 
 
 But the lady was extremely interesting at the moment. 
 George was goaded by his father s caution, and urged on by 
 his own feelings, with great sincerity, and certainly much 
 eloquence, he therefore proffered his love and hand to the 
 acceptance of his mistress. 
 
 Isabel heard him in painful silence. She respected him, 
 and dreaded his power over her father ; but, unwilling to 
 abandon hopes to which she yet clung as to her spring of 
 existence, with a violent effort she determined to throw her 
 self on the generosity of her lover. 
 
 During her father s late absence Isabel had, as usual, 
 since the death of her mother, been left with his sister, and 
 had formed an attachment for a young clergyman, a younger 
 son of a baronet, and the present Dr. Ives. The inclination 
 had been mutual ; and as Lady Hawker knew her brother 
 to be perfectly indifferent to money, she could see no possible 
 objection to its indulgence. 
 
 On his return, Ives made his proposals, as related ; and 
 although warmly backed by the recommendations of the 
 aunt, he was refused. Out of delicacy the wishes of Isabel 
 
PRECAUTION. 443 
 
 had not been mentioned by her clerical lover, and the 
 admiral supposed he had only complied with his agreement 
 with the general, without in any manner affecting the hap 
 piness of his daughter by his answer. But the feelings 
 which prompted the request still remained in full vigor in 
 the lovers ; arid Isabel now, with many blushes and some 
 hesitation of utterance, made George fully acquainted with 
 the state of her heart, giving him at the same time to under 
 stand that he was the only obstacle to her happiness. 
 
 It cannot be supposed that George heard her without pain 
 or mortification. The struggle with self-love was a severe 
 one, but his better feelings prevailed, and he assured the 
 anxious Isabel that from his importunities she had nothing 
 to apprehend in future. The grateful girl overwhelmed him 
 with thanks, and George had to fly ere he repented of his 
 own generosity. 
 
 Miss Howell intimated, in the course of her narrative, that 
 a better understanding existed between their parents than 
 the caution of the general had discovered to his unsuspect 
 ing child, and George was determined to know the worst at 
 once. 
 
 At supper he mentioned, as if in remembrance of his 
 father s injunction, that he had been to take his leave of Miss 
 Howell, since he found his visits gave uneasiness to her 
 friends. " On the whole," he added, endeavoring to yawn 
 carelessly, " I believe I shall visit there no more." 
 
 " Nay, nay," returned Sir Frederick, a little displeased at 
 his son s obedience, " I meant no such thing. Neither the 
 admiral nor myself has the least objection to your visiting 
 in moderation ; indeed, you may marry the girl with all our 
 hearts, if you can agree." 
 
 " But we can t agree, I take it," said George, looking up 
 at the wall 
 
444 PRECAUTION. 
 
 "Why not? what hinders ?" cried his father unguard 
 edly. 
 
 " Only only I don t like her," said the son, tossing off a 
 glass of wine, which nearly strangled him. 
 
 " You don t," cried the general with great warmth, thrown 
 entirely off his guard by this unexpected declaration; 
 " and may I presume to ask the reason why you do not like 
 Miss Howell, sir ?" 
 
 " Oh ! you know, one never pretends to give a reason 
 for this sort of feeling, my dear sir." 
 
 " Then," cried his father with increasing heat, " you must 
 allow me to say, my dear sir, that the sooner you get rid of 
 these sort of feelings the better. I choose you shall not 
 only like, but love Miss Howell ; and this I have promised 
 her father." 
 
 " I thought that the admiral was displeased with my 
 coming to his house so much or did I not understand you 
 this morning ?" 
 
 " I know nothing of his displeasure, and care less. He 
 has agreed that Isabel shall be your wife, and I have passed 
 my word to the engagement ; and if, sir, you wish to be 
 considered as my son, you will prepare to comply." 
 
 George was expecting to discover some management on 
 the part of his father, but by no means so settled an arrange 
 ment, and his anger was in proportion to the deception. 
 
 To annoy Isabel any further was out of the question ; to- 
 betray her, base ; and the next morning he sought an 
 audience with the Duke. To him he mentioned his wish 
 for actual service, but hinted that the maternal fondness of 
 Lady Margaret was averse to his seeking it. This was true, 
 and George now pressed his uncle to assist him in effecting 
 an exchange. 
 
 The boroughs of the Duke of Derwent were represented 
 
PRECAUTION. 445 
 
 by loyal members of parliament, his two brothers being con 
 temporary with Mr. Benfield in that honor ; and a request 
 from a man who sent six members to the Commons, besides 
 having a seat in the Lords in his own person, must be lis 
 tened to. 
 
 Within the week George ceased to be a captain in the 
 guards, and became lieutenant-colonel of a regiment under 
 orders for America. 
 
 Sir Frederick soon became sensible of the error his warmth 
 had led him into, and endeavored, by soothing and indul 
 gence, to gain the ground he had so unguardedly lost. But 
 terrible was his anger, and bitter his denunciations, when 
 his son acquainted him with his approaching embarkation 
 with his new regiment for America. They quarrelled ; and 
 as the favorite child had never, until now, been thwarted or 
 spoken harshly to, they parted in mutual disgust. With his 
 mother George was more tender; and as Lady Margaret 
 never thought the match such as the descendant of two lines 
 of dukes was entitled to form, she almost pardoned the 
 offence in the cause. 
 
 " What s this here ?" cried Sir Peter Howell, as he ran 
 over a morning paper at the breakfast table : " Captain Den 
 bigh, late of the guards, has been promoted to the Lieutenant- 
 Colonelcy of the Foot, and sails to-morrow to join that 
 
 regiment, now on its way to America." 
 
 It s a lie, Bell ! it s all a lie ! not but what he ought to 
 be there, too, serving his king and country ; but he never 
 would serve you so." 
 
 " Me 7 M said Isabel, with a heart throbbing with the con 
 tending feelings of admiration for George s generosity, and 
 delight at her own deliverance. " What have I to do with 
 the movements of Mr. Denbigh ?" 
 
 " What !" cried her father in astonishment j " a n t you to 
 
446 PRECAUTION. 
 
 be his wife, a n t it all agreed upon that is, between Sir 
 Frederick and me, which is the same thing, you know " 
 
 Here he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the 
 general himself, who had just learnt the departure of his son, 
 and hastened, with the double purpose of breaking the intel 
 ligence to his friend, and of making his own peace. 
 
 " See here, Denbigh," exclaimed the admiral, pointing to 
 the paragraph, " what do you say to that ?" 
 
 "Too true too true, my dear friend," replied the general, 
 shaking his head mournfully. 
 
 "Hark ye, Sir Frederick Denbigh," cried the admiral 
 fiercely ; " did you not say that your son George was to marry 
 my daughter ?" 
 
 " I certainly did, Sir Peter, and am sorry to say that, in 
 defiance of my entreaties and commands, he has deserted 
 his home, and, in consequence, I have discarded him for 
 ever." 
 
 " Now, Denbigh," said the admiral, a good deal mollified 
 by this declaration, " have I not always told you, that in 
 the army you know nothing of discipline ? Why, sir, if he 
 was a son of mine, he should marry blindfolded, if I chose 
 to order it. I wish, now, Bell had an offer, and dared to 
 refuse it." 
 
 " There is the barber s clerk, you know," said the general, 
 a good deal irritated by the contemptuous manner of his 
 friend. 
 
 "And what of that, Sir Frederick?" said the sailor 
 sternly ; if I choose her to marry a quill-driver, she shall 
 comply." 
 
 " Ah ! my good friend," said the general, willing to drop 
 the disagreeable subject, " I am afraid we shall both find it 
 more difficult to control the affections of our children than 
 we at first imagined." 
 
PRECAUTION. 447 
 
 " You do, General Denbigh !" said the admiral, with a 
 cur] of contempt on his lip ; and ringing the bell violently, 
 he bid the servant send his young lady to him. 
 
 On the appearance of Isabel, her father inquired with an 
 air of settled meaning where young Mr. Ives resided. It was 
 only in the next street, and a messenger was sent to him, 
 with Sir Peter Howell s compliments, and a request to see 
 him without a moment s delay. 
 
 "We ll see, we ll see, my old friend, who keeps the 
 best discipline," muttered the admiral, as he paced up and 
 down the room, in eager expectation of the return of his 
 messenger. 
 
 The wondering general gazed on his friend, to ascertain if 
 he was out of his senses. He knew he was quick to decide, 
 and excessively obstinate, but he did not think him so crazy 
 as to throw away his daughter in a fit of spleen. It never 
 occurred to Sir Frederick, however, that the engagement 
 with himself was an act of equal injustice and folly, because 
 it was done with more form and deliberation, which, to the 
 eye of sober reason, would rather make the matter worse. 
 Isabel sat in trembling suspense for the issue of the scene, 
 and Ives in a few minutes made his appearance in no little 
 alarm. 
 
 On entering, the admiral addressed him abruptly, by 
 inquiring if he still wished to marry that girl, pointing to his 
 daughter. The reply was an eager affirmative. Sir Peter 
 beckoned to Isabel, who approached, covered with blushes ; 
 and her father having placed her hand in that of her lover, 
 with an ah* of great solemnity he gave them his blessing. 
 The young people withdrew to another room at Sir Peter s 
 request, when he turned to his friend, delighted with his 
 own decision and authority, and exclaimed, 
 
 " There, Fred. Denbigh, that is what I call being minded.* 
 
448 PRECAUTION. 
 
 The general had penetration enough to see that the result 
 was agreeable to both the young people, a thing he had 
 long apprehended ; and being glad to get rid of the affair in 
 any way that did not involve him in a quarrel with his old 
 comrade, he gravely congratulated the admiral on his good 
 fortune and retired. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Sir Peter to himself, as he paced up and 
 down his room, <c Denbigh is mortified enough, with his joy, 
 and felicity, and grand-children. I never had any opinion of 
 their manner of discipline at all; too much bowing and 
 scraping. I m sorry, though, he is a priest ; not but what a 
 priest may be as good a man as another, but let him behave 
 ever so well, he can only get to be a bishop at the most. 
 Heaven forbid he should ever get to be a Pope ! After all, 
 his boys may be admirals if they behave themselves ;" and 
 he went to seek his daughter, having in imagination manned 
 her nursery with vice and rear admirals in embryo by the 
 half dozen. 
 
 Sir Peter Howell survived the marriage of his daughter 
 but eighteen months ; yet that was sufficient time to become 
 attached to his invaluable son-in-law. Mr. Ives insensibly 
 led the admiral, during his long indisposition, to a more cor 
 rect view of sacred things, than he had been wont to enter 
 tain ; and the old man breathed his last, blessing both his 
 children for their kindness, and with an humble hope of future 
 happiness. Some time before his death, Isabel, whose con 
 science had always reproached her with the deception prac 
 tised on her father, and with the banishment of George from 
 his country and home, threw herself at the feet of Sir Peter, 
 and acknowledged her transgression. 
 
 The admiral heard her in astonishment, but not in anger. 
 His opinions of life had sensibly changed, and his great cause 
 of satisfaction with his new son removed all motives for regret 
 
PRECAUTION. 449 
 
 for anything but for the fate of poor George. With the 
 noble forbearance and tenderness of the young man to his 
 daughter, the hardy veteran was sensibly touched ; and his 
 entreaties with Sir Frederick made his peace with a father 
 already longing for the return of his only hope. 
 
 The admiral left Colonel Denbigh his blessing, and his 
 favorite pistols, as a remembrance of his esteem ; but he did 
 not live to see the reunion with his family. 
 
 George had soon learnt, deprived of hope and in the midst 
 of novelty, to forget a passion which could no longer be 
 prosperous; and two years from his departure returned to 
 England, glowing in health, and improved in person and 
 manners by a more extensive knowledge of the world and 
 mankind. 
 
450 PRBCAUTIO-N. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIY. 
 
 DURING the time occupied by the foregoing events, Francis 
 continued a gloomy inmate of his uncle s house. The duke 
 and his brother George were too indolent and inactive in their 
 minds to pierce the cloud that mortification and deadened 
 affections had drawn around the real character of theii 
 nephew ; and although he was tolerated as the heir, he was 
 but little loved as a man. 
 
 Tn losing his brother, Francis lost the only human being 
 with whom he possessed any sympathies in common ; and he 
 daily drew more and more into himself, in gloomy meditation 
 on his forlorn situation, in the midst of wealth and expected 
 honors. The attentions he received were paid to his rank, 
 and Francis had penetration enough to perceive it. His visits 
 to his parents were visits of ceremony, and in time all parties 
 came to look to their termination with pleasure, as to the dis 
 continuance of heartless and forced civilities. 
 
 Affection, even in the young man, could not endure, 
 repulsed as his feelings were, for ever ; and in the course of 
 three years, if his attachments were not alienated from his 
 parents, his ardor had become much abated. 
 
 It is a dreadful truth, that the bonds of natural affection 
 can be broken by injustice and contumely ; and it is yet 
 more to be deplored, that when from such causes we loosen 
 the ties habit and education have drawn around us, a 
 reaction in our feelings commences ; we seldom cease to love, 
 but we begin to hate. Against such awful consequences it 
 is one of the most solemn duties of the parent to provide in 
 
PRECAUTION. 451 
 
 season ; and what surer safeguard is there, than to inculcate 
 those feelings which teach the mind to love God, and in so 
 doing induce love to the whole human family ? 
 
 Sir Frederick and Lady Margaret attended the church 
 regularly, repeated the responses with much decency, toasted 
 the church next to the king, even appeared at the altars of 
 their God, and continued sinners. From such sowings, no 
 good fruit could be expected to flourish : yet Francis was 
 not without his hours of devotion ; but his religion was, like 
 himself, reserved, superstitious, ascetic, and gloomy. He 
 never entered into social worship : if he prayed it was with 
 an ill-concealed wish to end this life of care. If he returned 
 thanks, it was with a bitterness that mocked the throne 
 before which he was prostrate. Such pictures are revolting ; 
 but their originals have and do exist ; for what enormity is 
 there of which human frailty, unchecked by divine assistance, 
 may not be guilty ? 
 
 Francis received an invitation to visit a brother of his mo 
 ther s at his seat in the country, about the time of the 
 expected return of George from America; and in compli 
 ance with the wishes of his uncles he accepted it. The house 
 was thronged with visitors, and many of them were ladies. 
 To these, the arrival of the unmarried heir of the house of 
 Derwent was a subject of no little interest. His character 
 had, however, preceded him, and a few days of his awkward 
 and, as they conceived, sullen deportment, drove them back 
 to their former beaux, with the exception of one ; and she was 
 not only amongst the fairest of the throng, but decidedly of the 
 highest pretensions on the score of birth and fortune. 
 
 Marian Lumley was the only surviving child of the last 
 Duke of Annerdale, with whom had expired the higher 
 honors of his house. But the Earldom of Pendennyss, with 
 numerous ancient baronies, were titles in fee ; and together 
 
452 PRECAUTION". 
 
 with his princely estates had descended to his daughter as 
 heir-general of the family. A peeress in her own right, with 
 an income far exceeding her utmost means of expenditure, 
 the lovely Countess of Pendennyss was a prize aimed at by 
 all the young nobles of the empire. 
 
 Educated in the midst of flatterers and dependants she 
 had become haughty, vain, and supercilious; still she was 
 lovely, and no one knew better how to practise the most win 
 ning arts of her sex, when whim or interest prompted her to 
 the trial. 
 
 Her host was her guardian and relative ; and through his 
 agency she had rejected, at the age of twenty, numerous 
 suitors for her hand. Her eyes were fixed on the ducal 
 coronet ; and unfortunately for Francis Denbigh, he was, at 
 the time, the only man of the proper age who could elevate 
 her to that enviable distinction in the kingdom ; and an indi 
 rect measure of her own had been the means of his invita 
 tion to the country. 
 
 Like the rest of her young companions, Marian was greatly 
 disappointed on the view of her intended captive, and for a 
 day or two she abandoned him to his melancholy and him 
 self. But ambition was her idol ; and to its powerful rival, 
 love, she was yet a stranger. After a few struggles with her 
 inclinations the consideration that their united fortunes and 
 family alliances would make one of the wealthiest and most 
 powerful houses in the kingdom, prevailed. Such early sa 
 crifices of the inclinations in a woman of her beauty, youth, 
 and accomplishments, may excite surprise; but where the 
 mind is left uncultivated by the hand of care, the soul un 
 touched by the love of goodness, the human heart seldom 
 fails to set up an idol of its own to worship. In the Coun 
 tess of Pendennyss this idol was pride. 
 
 The remainder of the ladies, from ceasing to wonder at the 
 
PRECAUTION. 453 
 
 manners of Francis, had made them the subject of theif 
 mirth ; and nettled at his apparent indifference to their soci 
 ety, which they erroneously attributed to his sense of his 
 importance, they overstepped the bounds of good-breeding 
 in manifesting their displeasure. 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh," cried one of the most thoughtless and 
 pretty of the gay tribe to him one day, as Francis sat in a 
 corner abstracted from the scene around him, " when do you 
 mean to favor the world with your brilliant ideas in the 
 shape of a book ?" 
 
 " Oh ! no doubt soon," said a second ; " and I expect they 
 will be homilies, or another volume to the Whole Duty of 
 Man." 
 
 " Rather," cried a third, with bitter irony, " another canto 
 to the Rape of the Lock, his ideas are so vivid and full of 
 imagery." 
 
 " Or, what do you think," said a fourth, speaking in a voice 
 of harmony, and tones of the most soothing tenderness, " of 
 pity and compassion, for the follies of those inferior minds, 
 who cannot enjoy the reflections of a good sense and modesty 
 peculiarly his own ?" 
 
 This might also be irony ; and Francis thought it so ; but 
 the tones were so soft and conciliating, that with a face pale 
 with his emotions, he ventured to look up and met the eye of 
 Marian, fixed on him in an expression that changed his death 
 like hue into the color of vermillion. 
 
 He thought of this speech ;*he reasoned on it ; he dreamt 
 on it. But for the looks which accompanied it, like the rest 
 of the party, he would have thought it the cruellest cut of 
 them all. But that look, those eyes, that voice, what a com 
 mentary on her language did they not afford ! 
 
 Francis was not long in suspense ; the next morning an 
 excursion was proposed, which included all but himself in its 
 
454 PRECAUTION. 
 
 arrangements. He was either too reserved or too proud to 
 offer services which were not required. 
 
 Several gentlemen had contended for the honor of driving 
 the countess in a beautiful phaeton of her own. They grew 
 earnest in their claims : one had been promised by its mis 
 tress with an opportunity of trying the ease of the carnage ; 
 another was delighted with the excellent training of her 
 horses ; in short, all had some particular claim to the dis 
 tinction, which was urged with a warmth and pertinacity 
 proportionate to the value of the prize to be obtained. Ma 
 rian heard the several claimants with an ease and indifference 
 natural to her situation, and ended the dispute by say 
 ing 
 
 "Gentlemen, as I have made so many promises from the 
 dread of giving offence, I must throw myself on the mercy 
 of Mr. Denbigh, who alone, with the best claims, does not 
 urge them ; to you then," continued she, approaching him 
 with the whip which was to be given the victor, " I adjudge 
 the prize, if you will condescend to accept it." 
 
 This was uttered with one of her most attractive smiles, 
 and Francis received the whip with an emotion that he with 
 difficulty could control. 
 
 The gentlemen were glad to have the contest decided by 
 adjudging the prize to one so little dangerous, and the ladies 
 sneered at her choice as they left the house. 
 
 There was something so soothing in the manners of Lady 
 Pendennyss, she listened to the little he said with such a 
 respectful attention, was so anxious to have him give his 
 opinions, that the unction of flattery, thus sweetly applied, 
 and for the first time, could not fail of its wonted effects. 
 
 The communications thus commenced were continued. It 
 was so easy to be attentive, by being simply polite to one 
 unused to notice of any kind, that Marian found the fate of the 
 
PRECAUTION. 455 
 
 young man in her hands almost as soon as she attempted to 
 control it. 
 
 A new existence opened upon Francis, as day after day 
 she insensibly led him to a display of powers he was uncon 
 scious until now of possessing himself. His self-respect 
 began to increase, his limited pleasures to multiply, and he 
 could now look around him with a sense of participation in 
 the delights of life, as he perceived himself of consequence to 
 this much admired woman. 
 
 Trifling incidents, managed on her part with consummate 
 art, had led him to the daring inference that he was not 
 entirely indifferent to her ; and Francis returned the incipient 
 affection of his mistress with a feeling but little removed from 
 adoration. Week flew by after week, and still he lingered 
 at the residence of his kinsman, unable to tear himself from 
 the society of one so worshipped, and yet afraid to take a 
 step by making a distinct declaration which might involve 
 him in disgrace or ridicule. 
 
 The condescension of the countess increased, and she had 
 indirectly given him the most flattering assurances of his 
 success, when George, just arrived from America, having first 
 paid his greetings to his reconciled parents, and the happy 
 couple of his generosity, flew to the arms of his brother in 
 Suffolk. 
 
 Francis was overjoyed to see George, and George de 
 lighted in the visible improvement of his brother. Still 
 Francis was far, very far behind his junior in graces of mind 
 and body ; indeed, few men in England were more adapted 
 by nature and education for female society than was Colonel 
 Denbigh at the period of which we write. 
 
 Marian witnessed all his attractions, and deeply felt their 
 influence ; for the first time she felt the emotions of the 
 gentle passion ; and after having sported in the gay world, 
 
456 PRECAUTION. 
 
 and trifled with the feelings of others for years, the countess 
 in her turn became an unwilling victim to its power. George 
 met her flame with a corresponding ardor, and the struggle 
 between ambition and love became severe ; the brothers 
 unconsciously were rivals. 
 
 Had George for a moment suspected the situation of the 
 feelings of Francis, his very superiority in the contest would 
 have induced him to retreat from the unnatural rivalry. 
 Had the elder dreamt of the views of his junior, he would 
 have abandoned his dearest hopes in utter despair. Francis 
 had so long been accustomed to consider George as his 
 superior in everything, that a competition with him would 
 have appeared desperate. Marian contrived to keep both 
 in hopes, undecided herself which to choose, and perhaps 
 ready to yield to the first applicant. A sudden event, 
 however, removed all doubts, and decided the fate of the 
 three. 
 
 The Duke of Derwent and his bachelor brother became 
 so dissatisfied with the character of their future heir, that 
 they as coolly set about providing themselves with wives as 
 they had performed any other ordinary transaction of life. 
 They married cousins, and on the same day the choice of 
 the ladies was assigned between them by lots ; and if his 
 grace got the prettier, h*is brother certainly got the richest ; 
 under the circumstances a very tolerable distribution of for 
 tune s favors. 
 
 These double marriages dissolved the charm of Francis, 
 and Lady Pendennyss determined to consult her wishes ; a 
 little pointed encouragement brought out the declaration of 
 George, and he was accepted. 
 
 Francis, who had never communicated his feelings to any 
 one but the lady, and that only indirectly, was crushed by 
 the blow. He continued in public until the day of their 
 
PRECAUTION. 457 
 
 union; was present, composed and silent; but it was the 
 silence of a mountain whose volcanic contents had not 
 reached the surface. The same day he disappeared, and 
 every inquiry after him proved fruitless ; search was baffled, 
 and for seven years it was not known what had become of 
 the general s eldest son. 
 
 George on marrying resigned his commission, at the 
 earnest entreaties of his wife, and retired to one of her seats, 
 to the enjoyment of ease and domestic love. The countess 
 was enthusiastically attached to him ; and as motives for the 
 indulgence of coquetry were wanting, her character became 
 gradually improved by the contemplation of the excellent 
 qualities of her generous husband. 
 
 A lurking suspicion of the cause of Francis s sudden 
 disappearance rendered her uneasy at times; but Marian 
 was too much beloved, .too happy, in the enjoyment of too 
 many honors, and of too great wealth, to be open to the 
 convictions of conscience. It is in our hours of pain and 
 privation that we begin to feel its sting : if we are prosper 
 ous, we fancy we reap the fruits of our own merit ; but if 
 we are unfortunate, the voice of truth seldom fails to 
 remind us that we are deserving of our fate: a blessed 
 provision of Providence that often makes the saddest hours 
 of our earthly career the morn of a day that is to endure for 
 ever. 
 
 General Denbigh and Lady Margaret both died within 
 five years of the marriage of their favorite child, although 
 both lived to see their descendant, in the person of the 
 infant Lord Lumley. 
 
 The duke and his brother George were each blessed with 
 
 offspring, and in these several descendants of the different 
 
 branches of the family of Denbigh may be seen the different 
 
 personages of our history. On the birth of her youngest 
 
 20 
 
458 PRECAUTION. 
 
 child, the Lady Marian, the Countess of Pendennyss sustained 
 a shock in her health from which she never wholly reco 
 vered : she became nervous, and lost most of her energy both 
 of mind and body. Her husband was her solace ; his tender 
 ness remaining unextinguished, while his attentions increased. 
 
 As the fortune of Ives and Isabel put the necessity of a 
 living out of the question, and no cure offering for the accep 
 tance of the first, he was happy to avail himself of an offer 
 to become domestic chaplain to his now intimate friend, Mr. 
 Denbigh. For the first six years they were inmates of Pen 
 dennyss Castle. The rector of the parish was infirm, and 
 averse to a regular assistant ; but the unobtrusive services 
 of Mr. Ives were not less welcome to the pastor than to his 
 parishioners. 
 
 Employed in the duties which of right fell to the incum 
 bent, and intrusted with the spiritual guardianship of the 
 dependants of the castle, our young clergyman had ample 
 occupation for all his time, if not a sufficient theatre for his 
 usefulness. Isabel and himself remained the year round in 
 Wales, and the first dawnings of education received by Lord 
 Lumley were those he acquired conjointly with Francis from 
 the care of the latter s father. They formed, with the inter 
 val of the time spent by Mr. Denbigh and Lady Pendennyss 
 in town in winter, but one family. To the gentleman, the 
 attachment of the grateful Ives was as strong as it was 
 lasting. Mrs. Ives never ceased to consider him as a self- 
 devoted victim to her happiness ; and although a far more 
 brilliant lot had awaited him by the change, yet her own 
 husband could not think it a more happy one. 
 
 The birth of Lady Marian had already, in its consequences, 
 begun to throw a gloom round the domestic comforts of 
 Denbio-h, when he was to sustain another misfortune in a 
 
 D 
 
 separation from his friends. 
 
PRECAUTION. 45<J 
 
 Mr., now Dr. Ives, had early announced "his firm intention, 
 whenever an opportunity was afforded him, to enter into 
 the fullest functions of his ministry, as a matter of duty, 
 
 Such an opportunity now offered at B , and the doctor 
 
 became its rector about the period Sir Edward became pos 
 sessor of his paternal estate. 
 
 Denbigh tried every inducement within his power to keep 
 the doctor in his own society. If as many thousands as his 
 living would give him hundreds could effect it, they would 
 have been at his service ; but Denbigh understood the 
 character of the divine too well to offer such an induce 
 ment : he however urged the. claims of friendship to the 
 utmost, but without success. The doctor acknowledged the 
 hold both himself and family had gained upon his affections, 
 but he added 
 
 " Consider, my dear Mr. Denbigh, what we would have 
 thought of one of the earlier followers of our Saviour, who 
 from motives of convenience or worldly-mindedness could 
 have deserted his sacred calling. Although the changes in 
 the times may have rendered the modes of conducting them 
 different, necessarily the duties remain the same. The 
 minister of our holy religion who has once submitted to the 
 call of his divine Master, must allow nothing but ungovern 
 able necessity to turn him from the path he has entered on ; 
 and should he so far forget himself, I greatly fear he would 
 plead, when too late to remedy the evil, his worldly duties, 
 his cares, or even his misfortunes, in vain. Solemn and 
 arduous are his obligations to labor, but when faithfully 
 he has discharged these duties, oh ! how glorious must be 
 his reward." 
 
 Before such opinions every barrier must fall, and the 
 doctor entered into the cure of his parish without further 
 opposition, though not without unceasing regret on the 
 
460 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Dart of his friend. Their intercourse was, however, main 
 tained by letter, and they also frequently met at Lumley 
 Castle, a seat of the countess s, within two days ride of the 
 doctor s parish, until her increasing indisposition rendered 
 journeying impossible ; then, indeed, the doctor extended 
 his rides into Wales, but with longer intervals between his 
 visits, though with the happiest effects to the objects of his 
 journey. 
 
 Mr. Denbigh, worn down with watching and blasted 
 hopes, under the direction of the spiritual watchfulness of 
 
 the rector of B , became an humble, sincere, and pious 
 
 Christian. 
 
PRECAUTION. 461 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 IT has been already mentioned, that the health of Lady 
 Pendennyss suffered a severe shock, in giving birth to a 
 daughter. Change of scene was prescribed as a remedy for 
 her disorder, and Denbigh and his wife were on their return 
 from a fruitless excursion amongst the northern lakes, in 
 pursuit of amusement and relief for the latter, when they 
 were compelled to seek shelter from the fury of a sudden 
 gust in the first building that offered. It was a farm-house 
 of the better sort ; and the attendants, carriages, and 
 appearance of their guests, caused no little confusion to its 
 simple inmates. A fire was lighted in the best parlor, and 
 every effort was made by the inhabitants to contribute to 
 the comforts of the travellers. 
 
 The countess and her husband were sitting in that kind of 
 listless melancholy which had been too much the companion 
 of their later hours, when in the interval of the storm, a 
 male voice in an adjoining room commenced singing the 
 following ballad, the notes being low, monotonous, but 
 unusually sweet, and the enunciation so distinct, as to render 
 every syllable intelligible : 
 
 Oh ! I have lived in endless pain, 
 And I have lived, alas ! in vain, 
 
 For none regard my woe 
 No father s care conveyed the truth, 
 No mother s fondness blessed my youth, 
 
 Ah ! joys too great to know 
 
4b2 PRECAUTION. 
 
 And Marian s love, and Marian s pride, 
 Have crushed the heart that would have died, 
 
 To save my Marian s tears 
 A brother s hand has struck the blow 
 Oh I may that brother never know 
 
 Such madly sorrowing years ! 
 
 But hush my griefs and hush my song, 
 I ve mourned in vain I ve mourned too long, 
 
 When none have come to soothe 
 And dark s the path, that lies before, 
 And dark have been the days of yore, 
 
 And all was dark in youth. 
 
 The maids employed around the person of their comfort 
 less mistress, the valet of Denbigh engaged in arranging a 
 dry coat for his master all suspended their employments 
 to listen in breathless silence to the mournful melody of the 
 song. 
 
 But Denbigh himself had started from his seat at the 
 first notes, and he continued until the voice ceased, gazing 
 in vacant horror in the direction of the sounds. A door 
 opened from the parlor to the room of the musician ; he 
 rushed through it, and there, in a kind of shed to the 
 building, which hardly sheltered him from the fury of the 
 tempest, clad in the garments of the extremest poverty, 
 with an eye roving in madness, and a body rocking to and 
 fro from mental inquietude, he beheld seated on a stone, 
 the remains of his long lost brother, Francis. 
 
 The language of the song was too plain to be misunder 
 stood. The truth glared around George with a violence 
 that dazzled his brain ; but he saw it all, he felt it all, and 
 rushing to the feet of his brother, he exclaimed in horror, 
 pressing his hands between his own, 
 
 "Francis my own brother do you not know me?" 
 
PRECAUTION. 4H3 
 
 The maniac regarded him with a vacant gaze, but the 
 voice and the person recalled the compositions of his more 
 reasonable moments to his recollection ; pushing back the 
 hair of George, so as to expose his fine forehead to view, he 
 contemplated him for a few moments, and then continued 
 to sing, in a voice still rendered sweeter than before by his 
 taint impressions : 
 
 His raven locks, that richly curled, 
 His eye, that proud defiance hurled. 
 
 Have stol n my Marian s love ! 
 Had I been blest by nature s grace, 
 With such a form, with such a face, 
 
 Could I so treacherous prove ? 
 
 And what is man and what is care 
 That he should let such passions tear 
 
 The bases of the soul $ 
 Oh ! you should do, as I have done 
 And having pleasure s summit won, 
 
 Each bursting sob control ! 
 
 On ending the last stanza, the maniac released his brother, 
 and broke into the wildest laugh of madness. 
 
 " Francis ! Oh ! Francis, my brother," cried George, in 
 bitterness. A piercing shriek drew his eye to the door he 
 had passed through on its threshold lay the senseless 
 body of his wife. The distracted husband forgot everything 
 in the situation of his Marian, and raising her in his arms, 
 he exclaimed, 
 
 " Marian my Marian, revive look up know me." 
 
 Francis had followed him, and now stood by his side, 
 gazing intently on the lifeless body; his looks became more 
 soft his eye glanced less wildly he too cried, 
 
 " Marian My Marian." 
 
164 PRECAUTION. 
 
 There was a mighty effort nature could endure no more, 
 he broke a blood-vessel and fell at the feet of George. They 
 flew to his assistance, giving the countess to her women ; but 
 he was dead. 
 
 For seventeen years Lady Pendennyss survived this shock : 
 but having reached her own abode, during that long period 
 she never left her room. 
 
 In the confidence of his surviving hopes, Doctor Ives and 
 his wife were made acquainted with the real cause of the 
 grief of their friend, but the truth went no further. Denbigh 
 was the guardian of his three young cousins, the duke, his 
 sister, and young George Denbigh; these, with his son, 
 Lord Lumley, and daughter, Lady Marian, were removed 
 from the melancholy of the Castle to scenes better adapted 
 to their opening prospects in life. Yet Lumley was fond of 
 the society of his father, and finding him a youth endowed 
 beyond his years, the care of his parent was early turned to 
 the most important of his duties in that sacred office ; and 
 when he yielded to his wishes to go into the army, he knew 
 he went a youth of sixteen, possessed of principles and self- 
 denial that would become a man of five-and-twenty. 
 
 General Wilson completed the work which the father had 
 begun ; and Lord Lumley formed a singular exception to the 
 character of most of his companions. 
 
 At the close of the Spanish war, he returned home, 
 and was just in time to receive the parting breath of his 
 mother. 
 
 A few days before her death, the countess requested that 
 her children might be made acquainted with her history and 
 misconduct ; and she placed in the hands of her son a letter, 
 with directions for him to open it after her decease. It was 
 addressed to both children, and after recapitulating generally 
 the principal events of her life, continued ; 
 
PRECAUTION. 465 
 
 "Thus, my children, you perceive the consequences of 
 indulgence and hardness of heart, which made me insensible 
 to the sufferings of others, and regardless of the plainest dic 
 tates of justice. Self was my idol. The love of admiration, 
 which was natural to me, was increased by the flatterers who 
 surrounded me ; and had the customs of our country suffered 
 royalty to descend in their unions to a grade in life below 
 their own, your uncle would have escaped the fangs of my 
 baneful coquetry. 
 
 " Oh ! Marian, my child, never descend so low as to prac 
 tise those arts which have degraded your unhappy mother. 
 I would impress on you, as a memorial of my parting affec 
 tion, these simple truths that coquetry stands next to the want 
 of chastity in the scale of female vices ; it is in fact a kind of 
 mental prostitution; it is ruinous to all that delicacy of 
 feeling which gives added lustre to female charms ; it is 
 almost destructive to modesty itself. A woman who has 
 been addicted to its practice, may strive long and in vain to 
 regain that singleness of heart, which can bind her up so 
 closely in her husband and children as to make her a good 
 wife or a mother ; and if it should have degenerated into 
 habit, it may lead to the awful result of infidelity to her mar 
 riage vows. 
 
 " It is vain for a coquette to pretend to religion ; its prac 
 tice involves hypocrisy, falsehood, and deception everything 
 that is mean everything that is debasing. In short, as it 
 is bottomed on selfishness and pride, where it has once pos 
 sessed the mind, it will only yield to the truth-displaying 
 banners of the cross. This, and this only, can remove the evil ; 
 for without it she, whom the charms of youth and beauty 
 have enabled to act the coquette, will descend into the vale 
 of life, altered, it is true, but not amended. She will find the 
 world, with its allurements, clinging around her parting years, 
 20* 
 
466 PRECAUTION. 
 
 in vain regrets for days that are flown, and in mercenary 
 views for her descendants. Heaven bless you, my children ; 
 console and esteem your inestimable father while he yet 
 remains with you ; and place your reliance on that Heavenly 
 Parent who will never desert those who seek him in sincerity 
 and love. Your dying mother, " M. PENDENNYSS." 
 
 This letter, evidently written under the excitement of deep 
 remorse, made a great impression on both her children. In 
 Lady Marian it was pity, regret, and abhorrence of the fault 
 which had been the principal cause of the wreck of her mo 
 ther s peace of mind ; but in her brother, now Earl of Pen- 
 dennyss, these feelings were united with a jealous dread of 
 his own probable lot in the chances of matrimony. 
 
 His uncle had been the supposed heir to a more elevated 
 title than his own, but he was now the actual possessor of as 
 honorable a name, and of much larger revenues. The great 
 wealth of his maternal grandfather, and the considerable 
 estate of his own father, were, or would soon be, centred in 
 himself ; and if a woman as amiable, as faultless, as affection 
 had taught him to believe his mother to be, could yield in 
 her situation to the lure of worldly honors, had he not great 
 reason to dread, that a hand might be bestowed at some day 
 upon himself, when the heart would point out some other 
 destination, if the real wishes of its owner were consulted ? 
 
 Pendennyss was modest by nature, and humble from prin 
 ciple, though by no means distrustful ; yet the shock of dis 
 covering his mother s fault, the gloom occasioned by her 
 death and his father s declining health, sometimes led him 
 into a train of reflections which, at others, he would have 
 fervently deprecated. 
 
 A short time after the decease of the countess, Mr. Den 
 bigh, finding his constitution fast giving way, under the 
 
PRECAUTION. 467 
 
 wasting of a decline he had been in for a year, resolved to 
 finish his days in the abode of his Christian friend, Doctor 
 Ives. For several years they had not met ; increasing duties 
 and infirmities on both sides having interrupted their 
 visits. 
 
 By easy stages he left the residence of his son in Wales, 
 and accompanied by both his children he reached Lumley 
 Castle much exhausted; here he took a solemn and final 
 leave of Marian, unwilling that she should so soon witness 
 agfain the death of another parent, and dismissing the earl s 
 
 equipage and attendants a short day s ride from B , they 
 
 proceeded alone to the rectory. 
 
 A letter had been forwarded acquainting the doctor of his 
 approaching visit, wishing it to be perfectly private, but not 
 alluding to its object, and naming a day, a week later than 
 the one on which he arrived. This plan was altered on per 
 ceiving the torch of life more rapidly approaching the socket 
 than he had at first supposed. His unexpected appearance 
 and reception are known. Denbigh s death and the depar 
 ture of his son followed ; Francis having been Pendennyss s 
 companion to the tomb of his ancestors in Westmoreland. 
 
 The earl had a shrinking delicacy, under the knowledge of 
 his family history, that made him anxious to draw all eyes 
 from the contemplation of his mother s conduct ; how far the 
 knowledge of it had extended in society he could not know, 
 but he wished it buried with her in the tomb. The peculiar 
 manner of his father s death would attract notice, and might 
 recall attention to the prime cause of his disorder ; as yet all 
 was veiled, and he wished the doctor s family to let it remain 
 so. It was, however, impossible that the death of a man of 
 Mr. Denbigh s rank should be unnoticed in the prints, and the 
 care of Francis dictated the simple truth without comments, 
 as it appeared. As regarded the Moseleys, what was more 
 
468 PRECAUTION. 
 
 natural than that the son of Mr. Denbigh should also be Mr. 
 Denbigh 1 
 
 In the presence of the rector s family no allusions were 
 made to their friends, and the villagers and the neighbor 
 hood spoke of them as old and young Mr. Denbigh. 
 
 The name of Lord Lumley, now Earl of Pendennyss, was 
 known to the whole British nation ; but the long retirement 
 of his father and mother had driven them almost from the 
 recollection of their friends. Even Mrs. Wilson supposed 
 her favorite hero a Lumley. Pendennyss Castle had been 
 for centuries the proud residence of that family ; and the 
 change of name in its possessor was forgotten with the cir 
 cumstances that bad led to it. 
 
 When, therefore, Emily met the earl so unexpectedly the 
 second time at the rectory, she, of course, with all her com 
 panions, spoke of him as Mr. Denbigh. On that occasion, 
 Pendennyss had called in person, in expectation of meeting 
 his kinsman, Lord Bolton ; but, finding him absent, he could 
 not resist his desire to visit the rectory. Accordingly, he 
 sent his carriage and servants on to London, leaving them at 
 a convenient spot, and arrived on foot at the house of Dr. 
 Ives. From the same motives which had influenced him 
 before a wish to indulge, undisturbed by useless ceremony, 
 his melancholy reflections he desired that his name might 
 not be mentioned. 
 
 This was an easy task. Both Doctor and Mrs. Ives had 
 called him, when a child, George or Lumley, and were 
 unused to his new appellation of Pendennyss ; indeed, it 
 rather recalled painful recollections to them all. 
 
 It may be remembered that circumstances removed the 
 necessity of any introduction to Mrs. Wilson and her party ; 
 and the difficulty in that instance was happily got rid of. 
 
 The earl had often heard Emily Moseley spoken of by 
 
PRECAUTION. 469 
 
 his friends, and in their letters they frequently mentioned 
 her name as connected with their pleasures and employments, 
 and always with an affection Pendennyss thought exceeding 
 that which they manifested for their son s wife ; and Mrs. 
 Ives, the evening before, to remove unpleasant thoughts, had 
 given him a lively description of her person and character. 
 The earl s curiosity had been a little excited to see this 
 paragon of female beauty and virtue ; and, unlike most 
 curiosity on such subjects, he was agreeably disappointed by 
 the examination. He wished to know more, and made inte 
 rest with the doctor to assist him to continue the incognito 
 with which accident had favored him. 
 
 The doctor objected on the ground of principle, and the 
 earl desisted; but the beauty of Emily, aided by her cha 
 racter, had made an impression not to be easily shaken off, 
 and Pendennyss returned to the charge. 
 
 His former jealousies were awakened in proportion to his 
 admiration ; and, after some time, he threw himself on the 
 mercy of the divine, by declaring his new motive, but with 
 out mentioning his parents. The doctor pitied him, for he 
 scanned his feelings thoroughly, and consented to keep silent, 
 but laughingly declared it was bad enough for a divine to be 
 accessory to, much less aiding in a deception ; and that he 
 knew if Emily and Mrs. Wilson learnt his imposition, he 
 would lose ground in their favor by the discovery. 
 
 " Surely, George," said the doctor with a laugh, " you 
 don t mean to marry the young lady as Mr. Denbigh ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! it is too soon to think of marrying her at all," 
 replied the earl with a smile ; " but, somehow, I should like 
 to see what my reception in the world will be as plain Mr. 
 Denbigh, unprovided for and unknown." 
 
 " No doubt, my lord," said the rector archly, " in pro 
 portion to your merits, very unfavorably indeed ; but then 
 
470 PRECAUTION. 
 
 your humility will be finally elevated by the occasional 
 praises I have heard Mrs. Wilson lavish on your proper cha 
 racter of late." 
 
 " I am much indebted to her partiality," continued the 
 earl mournfully ; then throwing off his gloomy thoughts he 
 added, " I wonder, my dear doctor, your goodness did not 
 set her right in the latter particular." 
 
 " Why, she has hardly given me an opportunity ; delicacy 
 and my own feelings have kept me very silent on the sub 
 ject of your family to any of that connexion. They think, I 
 believe, I was a rector in Wales, instead of your father s 
 chaplain; and somehow," continued the doctor, smiling on 
 his wife, "the association with your late parents was so 
 connected in my mind with my most romantic feelings, that 
 although I have delighted in it, I have seldom alluded to it 
 hi conversation at all. Mrs. Wilson has spoken of you but 
 twice in my hearing, and that since she has expected to 
 meet you; your name has doubtless recalled the remem 
 brance of her husband." 
 
 " I have many, many reasons to remember the general 
 with gratitude," cried the earl with fervor ; " but doctor, 
 do not forget my incognito : only call me George ; I ask no 
 more." 
 
 The plan of Pendennyss was put in execution. Day after 
 day he lingered in Northamptonshire, until his principles and 
 character had grown upon the esteem of the Moseleys in the 
 manner we have mentioned. 
 
 His frequent embarrassments were from the dread and 
 shame of a detection. With Sir Herbert Nicholson he had a 
 narrow escape, and Mrs. Fitzgerald and Lord Henry Staple- 
 ton he of course avoided ; for having gone so far, he was 
 determined to persevere to the end. Egerton he thought 
 knew him, and he disliked his character and manners. 
 
 
PRECAUTION. 47 
 
 When Chatterton appeared most attentive to Emily, th . 
 candor and good opinion of that young nobleman made the 
 earl acquainted with his wishes and his situation. Penden- 
 nyss was too generous not to meet his rival on fair grounds. 
 His cousin and the duke were requested to use their united 
 influence secretly to obtain the desired station for the baron. 
 The result is known, and Pendennyss trusted his secret to 
 Chatterton; he took him to London, gave him in charge to 
 Derwent, and returned to prosecute his own suit. His note 
 from Bolton Castle was a ruse to conceal his character, as 
 he knew the departure of the baronet s family to an hour, 
 and had so timed his visit to the earl AS not to come in 
 collision with the Moseleys. 
 
 " Indeed, my lord," cried the doctor to him one day, 
 " your scheme goes on swimmingly, and I am only afraid when 
 your mistress discovers the imposition, you will find your 
 rank producing a different effect from what you have appr> 
 hended." 
 
472 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVL 
 
 BUT Dr. Ives was mistaken. Had he seen the sparkling 
 eyes and glowing cheeks of Miss Moseley, the smile of satis 
 faction and happiness which played on the usually thought 
 ful face of Mrs. Wilson, when the earl handed them into his 
 own carriage, as they left his house on the evening of the 
 discovery, the doctor would have gladly acknowledged the 
 failure of his prognostics. In truth, there was no possi 
 ble event that, under the circumstances, could have given 
 both aunt and niece such heartfelt pleasure, as the know 
 ledge that Denbigh and the earl were the same person. 
 
 Pendennyss stood holding the door of the carriage in his 
 hand, irresolute how to act, when Mrs. Wilson said 
 
 " Surely, my lord, you sup with us." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, my dear madam, for the privilege," 
 cried the earl, as he sprang into the coach ; the door was 
 closed, and they drove off. 
 
 " After the explanations of this morning, my lord," said 
 Mrs. Wilson, willing to remove all doubts between him and 
 Emily, and perhaps anxious to satisfy her own curiosity, " it 
 will be fastidious to conceal our desire to know more of your 
 movements. How came your pocket-book in the possession 
 of Mrs. Fitzgerald ?" 
 
 " Mrs. Fitzgerald !" cried Pendennyss, in astonishment ; 
 " I lost the book in one of the rooms of the Lodge, and sup 
 posed it had fallen into your hands, and betrayed my dis 
 guise by Emily s rejection of me, and your own altered eye. 
 Was 1 mistaken then in both 2" 
 
PRECAUTION. 473 
 
 Mrs. Wilson now, for the first time, explained their real 
 grounds for refusing his offers, which, in the morning, she 
 had loosely mentioned as owing to a misapprehension of his 
 just character, .and recounted the manner of the book falling 
 into the hands of Mrs. Fitzgerald. 
 
 The earl listened in amazement, and after musing with 
 himself, exclaimed 
 
 " I remember taking it from my pocket, to show Colonel 
 Egerton some singular plants I had gathered, and think 1 
 first missed it when returning to the place where I had then 
 laid it ; in some of the side-pockets were letters from Marian, 
 addressed to me, properly ; and I naturally thought they had 
 met your eye." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson and Emily immediately thought Egerton the 
 real villain, who had caused both themselves and Mrs. Fitz 
 gerald so much uneasiness, and the former mentioned her 
 suspicions to the earl. 
 
 " Nothing more probable, dear madam," cried he, " and 
 this explains to me his startled looks when we first met, and 
 his evident dislike to my society, for he must have seen my 
 person, though the carriage hid him from my sight." 
 
 That Egerton was the wretch, and that through his 
 agency the pocket-book had been carried to the cottage, they 
 all now agreed, and turned to more pleasant subjects. 
 
 " Master ! here master," said Peter Johnson, as he stood 
 at a window of Mr. Benfield s room, stirring a gruel for the 
 old gentleman s supper, and stretching his neck and strain 
 ing his eyes to distinguish objects by the light of the lamps 
 " I do think there is Mr. Denbigh, handing Miss Emmy 
 from a coach, covered with gold, and two footmen, all dizen- 
 ed with pride like." 
 
 The spoon fell from the hands of Mr. Benfield. He rose 
 briskly from his seat, and adjusting his dress, took the arm 
 
474 PRECAUTION. 
 
 of the steward, and proceeded to the drawing-room. While 
 these several movements were in operation, which consumed 
 some time, the old bachelor relieved the tedium of Peter s 
 impatience by the following speech : 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh ! what, back 1 I thought he never could 
 let that rascal John shoot him and forsake Emmy after all ; 
 (here the old gentleman suddenly recollected Denbigh s mar 
 riage) but now, Peter, it can do no good either. I remem 
 ber, that when my friend the Earl of Gosford " (and again 
 he was checked by the image of the card-table and the 
 viscountess) " but, Peter," he said with great warmth, " we 
 can go down and see him, notwithstanding." 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh !" exclaimed Sir Edward, in astonishment, 
 when he saw the companion of his sister and child enter the 
 drawing-room, "you are welcome once more to your old 
 friends : your sudden retreat from us gave us much pain ; 
 but we suppose Lady Laura had too many attractions to 
 allow us to keep you any longer in Norfolk." 
 
 The good Baronet sighed, as he held out his hand to the 
 man whom he had once hoped to receive as a son. 
 
 " Neither Lady Laura nor any other lady, my dear Sir 
 Edward," cried the earl, as he took the baronet s hand, 
 " drove me from you, but the frowns of your own fair daugh 
 ter ; and here she is, ready to acknowledge her offence, and, 
 I hope, to atone for it." 
 
 John, who knew of the refusal of his sister, and was not a 
 little displeased with the cavalier treatment he had received 
 at Denbigh s hands, felt indignant at such improper levity in 
 a married man, and approached with 
 
 " Your servant, Mr. Denbigh I hope my Lady Laura is 
 well." 
 
 Pendennyss understood his look, and replied very gravely 
 
 " Your servant, Mr. John Moseley my Lady Laura is, or 
 
PRECAUTION. 475 
 
 certainly ought to be, very well, as she has this moment 
 gone to a rout, accompanied by her husband." 
 
 The quick eye of John glanced from the earl to his aunt, 
 to Emily ; a lurking smile was on all their features. The 
 heightened color of his sister, the flashing eyes of the young 
 nobleman, the face of his aunt, all told him that something 
 uncommon was about to be explained ; and, yielding to his 
 feelings, he caught the hand which Pendennyss extended to 
 him, and cried, 
 
 " Denbigh, I see I feel there is some unaccountable 
 mistake we are " 
 
 " Brothers !" said the earl, emphatically. " Sir Edward 
 dear Lady Moseley, I throw myself on your mercy. I am 
 an impostor*: when your hospitality received me into your 
 house, it is true you admitted George Denbigh, but he is 
 better known as the Earl of Pendennyss." 
 
 " The Earl of Pendennyss !" exclaimed Lady Moseley, in a 
 glow of delight, as she saw at once through some juvenile 
 folly a deception which promised both happiness and rank 
 to one of her children. " Is it possible, my dear Charlotte, 
 that this is your unknown friend ?" 
 
 " The very same, Anne," replied the smiling widow, " and 
 guilty of a folly that, at all events, removes the distance 
 between us a little, by showing that he is subject to the 
 failings of mortality. But the masquerade is ended, and I 
 hope you and Edward will not only treat him as an earl, but 
 receive him as a son." 
 
 " Most willingly most willingly," cried the baronet, with 
 great energy ; " be he prince, peer, or beggar, he is the 
 preserver of my child, and as such he is always welcome." 
 
 The door now slowly opened, and the venerable bachelor 
 appeared on its threshold. 
 
 Pendennyss, who had never forgotten the good will 
 
476 PRECAUTION. 
 
 manifested to him by Mr. Benfield, met him with a look of 
 pleasure, as he expressed his happiness at seeing him again 
 in London. 
 
 " I never have forgotten your goodness in sending honest 
 Peter such a distance from home, on the object of his 
 visit. I now regret that a feeling of shame occasioned my 
 answering your kindness so laconically:" turning to Mrs. 
 Wilson, he added, " for a time I knew not how to write a 
 letter even, being afraid to sign my proper appellation, and 
 ashamed to use my adopted." 
 
 " Mr. Denbigh, I am happy to see you. I did send Peter, 
 it is true, to London, on a message to you but it is all 
 over now," the old man sighed " Peter, however, escaped 
 the snares of this wicked place ; and if you are happy, I 
 am content. I remember when the Earl of " 
 
 " Pendennyss !" exclaimed the other, " imposed on the 
 hospitality of a worthy man, under an assumed appellation, 
 in order to pry into the character of a lovely female, who 
 was only too good for him, and who now is willing to forget 
 his follies, and make him not only the happiest of men, but 
 the nephew of Mr. Benfield." 
 
 During this speech, the countenance of Mr. Benfield had 
 manifested evident emotion : he looked from one to another, 
 until he saw Mrs. Wilson smiling near him. Pointing to 
 the earl with his finger, he stood unable to speak, as she 
 answered simply, 
 
 " Lord Pendennyss." 
 
 "And Emmy dear will you will you marry him?" 
 cried Mr. Benfield, suppressing his feelings, to give utterance 
 to his question. 
 
 Emily felt for her uncle, and blushing deeply, with great 
 irankness she put her hand in that of the earl, who pressed 
 it with rapture again and again to his lips. 
 
PRECAUTION. 477 
 
 Mr. Benfield sank into a chair, and with a heart softened 
 by emotion, burst into tears. 
 
 " Peter," he cried, struggling with his feelings, " I am 
 now ready to depart in peace I shall see my darling 
 Emmy happy, and to her care I shall commit you." 
 
 Emily, deeply affected with his love, threw herself into 
 his arms in a torrent of tears, and was removed from them 
 by Pendennyss, in consideration for the feelings of both. 
 
 Jane felt no emotions of envy for her sister s happiness ; 
 on the contrary, she rejoiced in common with the rest of 
 their friends in her brightening prospects, and they all took 
 their seats at the supper table, as happy a group as was 
 contained in the wide circle of the metropolis. A few more 
 particulars served to explain the mystery sufficiently, until a 
 more fitting opportunity made them acquainted with the 
 whole of the earl s proceedings. 
 
 " My Lord Pendennyss," said Sir Edward, pouring out a 
 glass of wine, and passing the bottle to his neighbor : " I 
 drink your health and happiness to yourself and my 
 darling child." 
 
 The toast was drunk by all the family, and the earl 
 replied to the compliments with his thanks and smiles, while 
 Emily could only notice them with her blushes and tears. 
 
 But this was an opportunity not to be lost by the honest 
 steward, who, from affection and long services, had been 
 indulged in familiarities exceeding any other of his master s 
 establishment. He very deliberately helped himself to a 
 glass of wine, and drawing near the seat of the bride-elect, 
 with an humble reverence, commenced his speech as 
 follows : 
 
 " My dear Miss Emmy : Here s hoping you ll live to be 
 a comfort to your honored father, and your honored mother, 
 and ray dear honored master, and yourself, and Madam 
 
478 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Wilson." The steward paused to clear ms voice, and profit 
 ed by the delay to cast his eye round the table to collect 
 the names ; " and Mr. John Moseley, and sweet Mrs. 
 Moseley, and pretty Miss Jane" (Peter had lived too long 
 in the world to compliment one handsome woman in the 
 presence of another, without the qualifying his speech a 
 little) ; " and Mr. Lord Denbigh earl like, as they say he 
 now is, and" Peter stopped a moment to deliberate, and 
 then making another reverence, he put the glass to his lips ; 
 but before he had got half through its contents, recollected 
 himself, and replenishing it to the brim, with a smile 
 acknowledging his forgetfulness, continued, " and the Kev. 
 Mr. Francis Ives, and the Rev. Mrs. Francis Ives." 
 
 Here the unrestrained laugh of John interrupted him ; 
 and considering with himself that he had included the 
 whole family, he finished his bumper. Whether it was 
 pleasure at his own eloquence in venturing on so long a 
 speech, or the unusual allowance, that affected the steward, 
 he was evidently much satisfied with himself, and stepped 
 back behind his master s chair, in great good humor. 
 
 Ernily, as she thanked him, noticed a tear in the eye of 
 the old man, as he concluded his oration, that would have 
 excused a thousand breaches of fastidious ceremony. But 
 Pendennyss rose from his seat, and took him kindly by the 
 hand, and returned his own thanks for his good wishes. 
 
 " I owe you much good will, Mr. Johnson, for your two 
 journeys in my behalf, and trust I never shall forget the 
 manner in which you executed your last mission in particu 
 lar. We are friends, I trust, for life." 
 
 " Thank you thank your honor s lordship," said the 
 steward, almost unable to utter ; " I hope you may live 
 long, to make dear little Miss Emmy as happy as I know 
 she ought to be." 
 
PRECAUTION. 479 
 
 " But really, my lord," cried John, observing that the 
 steward s affection for his sister had affected her to tears, 
 " it was a singular circumstance, the meeting of the four 
 passengers of the stage so soon at your hotel." 
 
 Moseley explained his meaning to the rest of the company. 
 
 " Not so much so as you imagine," said the earl in 
 reply ; " yourself and Johnson were in quest of me. Lord Henry 
 Stapleton was under an engagement to meet me that evening 
 at the hotel, as we were both going to his sister s wedding I 
 having arranged the thing with him by letter previously ; 
 and General M Carty was also in search of me, on busi 
 ness relating to his niece, the Donna Julia. He had been 
 to Annerdale House, and, through my servants, heard I was 
 at an hotel. It was the first interview between us, and not 
 quite as amicable a one as has since been had in Wales. 
 During my service in Spain, I saw the Conde, but not the 
 general. The letter he gave me was from the Spanish 
 ambassador, claiming a right to require Mrs. Fitzgerald from 
 our government, and deprecating my using an influence to 
 counteract his exertions" 
 
 " Which you refused," said Emily, eagerly. 
 
 " Not refused," answered the earl, smiling at her warmth, 
 while he admired her friendly zeal, " for it was unnecessary : 
 there is no such power vested in the ministry. But I ex 
 plicitly told the general, I would oppose any violent measures 
 to restore her to her country and a convent. From the 
 courts, I apprehended nothing for my fair friend." 
 
 "Your honor my lord," said Peter, who had been 
 listening with great attention, " if I may presume just to ask 
 two questions, without offence." 
 
 "Say on, my good friend," said Pendennyss, with an 
 encouraging smile. 
 
 " Only " continued the steward hemming, to give propei 
 
480 PRECAUTION. 
 
 utterance to his thoughts " I wish to know, whether you 
 stayed in that same street after you left the hotel for Mr. 
 John Moseley and I had a slight difference in opinion about 
 it." 
 
 The earl smiled, having caught the arch expression of 
 John, and replied 
 
 " I believe I owe you an apology, Moseley, for my cavalier 
 treatment; but guilt makes us all cowards. I found you 
 were ignorant of my incognito, and I was equally ashamed 
 to continue it, or to become the relater of my own folly. 
 Indeed," he continued, smiling on Emily as he spoke, " I 
 thought your sister had pronounced the opinion of all reflect 
 ing people on my conduct. I went out of town, Johnson, 
 at day-break. What is the other query ?" 
 
 " Why, my lord," said Peter, a little disappointed at find 
 ing his first surmise untrue, " that outlandish tongue your 
 honor used " 
 
 " Was Spanish," cried the earl. 
 
 "And not Greek, Peter," said his master, gravely. "I 
 thought, from the words you endeavored to repeat to me, 
 that you had made a mistake. You need not be disconcerted, 
 however, for I know several members of the parliament of 
 this realm who could not talk the Greek language, that is, 
 fluently. So it can be no disgrace to a serving-man to be 
 ignorant of it." 
 
 Somewhat consoled to find himself as well off as the 
 representatives of his country, Peter resumed his station in 
 silence, when the carriages began to announce the return from 
 the opera. The earl took his leave, and the party retired to 
 rest. . 
 
 The thanksgivings of Emily that night, ere she laid her 
 head on her pillow, were the purest offering of mortal inno 
 cence. The prospect before her was unsullied by a cloud 
 
PRECAUTION. 481 
 
 and she poured out her heart in the fullest confidence of 
 pious love and heartfelt gratitude. 
 
 As early on the succeeding morning as good-breeding 
 would allow, and much earlier than the hour sanctioned by 
 fashion, the earl and Lady Marian stopped in the carriage of 
 the latter at the door of Sir Edward Moseley. Their recep 
 tion was the most flattering that could be offered to people 
 of their stamp ; sincere, cordial, and, with a trifling exception 
 in Lady Moseley, unfettered with any useless ceremonies. 
 
 Emily felt herself drawn to her new acquaintance with a 
 fondness which doubtless grew out of her situation with her 
 brother ; which soon found reasons enough in the soft, lady 
 like, and sincere manners of Lady Marian, to justify her 
 attachment on her own account 
 
 There was a very handsome suite of drawing-rooms in 
 Sir Edward s house, and the communicating doors were 
 carelessly open. Curiosity to view the furniture, or some 
 such trifling reasons, induced the earl to find his way into 
 the one adjoining that in which the family were seated. It 
 was unquestionably a dread of being lost in a strange house, 
 that induced him to whisper a request to the blushing Emily, 
 to be his companion ; and lastly, it must have been nothing 
 but a knowledge that a vacant room was easier viewed than 
 one filled with company, that prevented any one from follow 
 ing them. John smiled archly at Grace, doubtless in appro 
 bation of the comfortable time his friend was likely to enjoy, 
 in his musings on the taste of their mother. How the door 
 became shut, we have ever been at a loss to imagine. 
 
 The company without were too good-natured and well 
 satisfied with each other to miss the absentees, until the 
 figure of the earl appeared at the reopened door, beckoning, 
 with a face of rapture, to Lady Moseley and Mrs. Wilson. 
 Sir Edward next disappeared, then Jane, then Grace then 
 21 
 
482 PRECAUTION. 
 
 Marian; until John began to think a tete-a-tete with Mr. 
 Benfield was to be his morning s amusement. 
 
 The lovely countenance of his wife, however, soon relieved 
 his ennui, and John s curiosity was gratified by an order to 
 prepare for his sister s wedding the following week. 
 
 Emily might have blushed more than common during this 
 interview, but it is certain she did not smile less ; and the 
 earl, Lady Marian assured Sir Edward, was so very different 
 a creature from what he had recently been, that she could 
 hardly think it was the same sombre gentleman with whom 
 she had passed the last few months in Wales and West 
 moreland. 
 
 A messenger was dispatched for Dr. Ives and their friends 
 
 at B , to be witnesses to the approaching nuptials ; and 
 
 Lady Moseley at length found an opportunity of indulging 
 her taste for splendor on this joyful occasion. 
 
 Money was no consideration ; and Mr. Benfield absolutely 
 pined at the thought that the great wealth of the earl put 
 it out of his power to contribute in any manner to. the 
 comfort of his Emmy. However, a fifteenth codicil was 
 framed by the ingenuity of Peter and his master, and if it 
 did not contain the name of George Denbigh, it did that of 
 his expected second son, Roderick Benfield Denbigh, to the 
 qualifying circumstance of twenty thousand pounds, as a 
 bribe for the name. 
 
 " And a very pretty child, I dare say, it will be," said the 
 steward, as he placed the paper in its repository. " I don t 
 know that I ever saw, your honor, a couple that I thought 
 would make a handsomer pair like, except " Peter s mind 
 dwelt on his own youthful form coupled with the smiling 
 graces of Patty Steele. 
 
 " Yes ! they are as handsome as they are good !" replied 
 his master. " I remember now, when our Speaker took his 
 
PRECAUTION. 483 
 
 third wife, the world said that they were as pretty a couple 
 as there was at court. But my Emma and the earl will be a 
 much finer pair. Oh ! Peter Johnson ; they are young, and 
 rich, and beloved ; but, after all, it avails but little if they be 
 not good." 
 
 " Good !" cried the steward in astonishment ; " they are 
 as good as angels." 
 
 The master s ideas of human excellence had suffered a 
 heavy blow in the view of his viscountess, but he answered 
 mildly, 
 
 " As good as mankind can well be." 
 
484 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XLYII. 
 
 THE warm weather had now commenced, and Sir Edward, 
 unwilling to be shut up in London at a time the appearance 
 of vegetation gave the country a new interest, and accus 
 tomed for many years of his life to devote an hour in his 
 garden each morn, had taken a little ready furnished cottage 
 a short ride from his residence, with the intention of frequent 
 ing it until after the birthday. Thither then Pendennyss 
 took his bride from the altar, and a few days were passed by 
 the newly married pair in this little asylum. 
 
 Doctor Ives, with Francis, Clara, and their mother, had 
 obeyed the summons with an alacrity in proportion to the 
 joy they felt on receiving it, and the former had the happi 
 ness of officiating on the occasion. It would have been easy 
 for the wealth of the earl to procure a license to enable them 
 to marry in the drawing-room ; the permission was obtained, 
 but neither Emily nor himself felt a wish to utter their vows 
 in any other spot than at the altar, and in the house of their 
 Maker. 
 
 If there was a single heart that felt the least emotion of 
 regret or uneasiness, it was Lady Moseley, who little relished 
 the retirement of the cottage on so joyful an occasion ; Jbut 
 Pendennyss silenced her objections by good-humoredly 
 replying 
 
 " The fates have been so kind to me, in giving me castles 
 and seats, you ought to allow me, my dear Lady Moseley, the 
 only opportunity I shall probably ever have of enjoying love 
 in a cottage." 
 
PRECAUTION. 485 
 
 A few days, however, removed the uneasiness of the good 
 matron, who had the felicity within the week of seeing her 
 daughter initiated mistress of Annerdale House. 
 
 The morning of their return to this noble mansion the earl 
 presented himself in St. James s Square, with the intelligence 
 "of their arrival, and smiling as he bowed to Mrs. Wilson, he 
 continued . 
 
 " And to escort you, dear madam, to your new abode." 
 
 Mrs. "Wilson started with surprise, and with a heart beating 
 quick with emotion, she required an explanation of his 
 words. 
 
 " Surely, dearest Mrs. "Wilson more than aunt my mo 
 ther you cannot mean, after having trained my Emily through 
 infancy to maturity in the paths of duty, to desert her in the 
 moment of her greatest trial. I am the pupil of your hus 
 band," he continued, taking her hands in his own with reve 
 rence and affection ; " we are the children of your joint care, 
 and one home, as there is but one hearty must in future con 
 tain us." 
 
 Mrs. "Wilson had wished for, but hardly dared to expect 
 this invitation. It was now urged from the right quarter, 
 and in a manner that was as sincere as it was gratifying. 
 Unable to conceal her tears, the good widow pressed the 
 hand of Pendennyss to her lips as she murmured out her 
 thanks. Sir Edward was prepared also to lose his sister ; 
 but unwilling to relinquish the pleasure of her society, he 
 urged her making a common residence between the two 
 families. 
 
 " Pendennyss has spoken truth, my dear brother," cried 
 she, recovering her voice ; Emily is the child of my care 
 and my love the two beings I love best in this world are 
 now united but," she added, pressing Lady Moseley to her 
 bosom, " my heart is large enough for you all ; you are of 
 
486 PRECAUTION. 
 
 my blood, and my gratitude for your affection is boundless. 
 There shall be but one large family of us ; and although our 
 duties may separate us for a time, we will, I trust, ever meet 
 in tenderness and love, though with George and Emily I will 
 take up my abode." 
 
 "I hope your house in Northamptonshire is not to be 
 vacant always," said Lady Moseley to the earl, anxiously. 
 
 " I have no house there, my dear madam," he replied ; 
 " when I thought myself about to succeed in my suit before, 
 I directed a lawyer at Bath, where Sir William Harris resided 
 most of his time, to endeavor to purchase the deanery, when 
 ever a good opportunity offered : in my discomfiture," he 
 added, smiling, " I forgot to countermand the order, and he 
 purchased it immediately on its being advertised. For a 
 short time it was an incumbrance to me, but it is now applied 
 to its original purpose. It is the sole property of the Coun 
 tess of Pendennyss, and I doubt not you will see it often and 
 agreeably tenanted." 
 
 This intelligence gave great satisfaction to his friends, and 
 the expected summer restored to even Jane a gleam of her 
 former pleasure. 
 
 If there be bliss in this life, approaching in any degree to 
 the happiness of the blessed, it is the fruition of long and 
 ardent love, where youth, innocence, piety, and family con 
 cord, smile upon the union. And all these were united in 
 the case of the new-married pair ; but happiness in this 
 world cannot or does not, in any situation, exist without 
 alloy. 
 
 The peace of mind and fortitude of Emily were fated tr 
 receive a blow, as unlocked for to herself as it was unex 
 pected to the world. Bonaparte appeared in France, and 
 Europe became in motion. 
 
 From the moment the earl heard the intelligence his own 
 
PRECAUTION. 487 
 
 course was decided. His regiment was the pride of the 
 army, and that it would be ordered to join the duke he did not 
 entertain a doubt. 
 
 Emily was, therefore, in some little measure prepared for 
 the blow. It is at such moments as our own acts, or events 
 affecting us, get to be without our control, that faith in the 
 justice and benevolence of God is the most serviceable to the 
 Christian. When others spend their time in useless regrets 
 he is piously resigned : it even so happens, that when others 
 mourn he can rejoice. 
 
 The sound of the bugle, wildly winding its notes, broke on , 
 the stillness of the morning in the little village in which was 
 situated the cottage tenanted by Sir Edward Moseley. Al 
 most concealed by the shrubbery which surrounded its piazza, 
 stood the forms of the Countess of Pendennyss and her sister 
 Lady Marian, watching eagerly the appearance of those 
 whose approach was thus announced. 
 
 The carriage of the ladies, with its idle attendants, was in 
 waiting at a short distance ; and the pale face but composed 
 resignation of its mistress, indicated a struggle between con 
 flicting duties. 
 
 File after file of heavy horse passed them in military pomp, 
 and the wistful gaze of the two females had scanned them in 
 vain for the well known, much-beloved countenance of the 
 leader. At length a single horseman approached them, 
 riding deliberately and musing : their forms met his eye, and 
 in an instant Emily was pressed to the bosom of her hus 
 band. 
 
 " It is the doom of a soldier," said the earl, dashing a tear 
 from his eye ; " I had hoped that the peace of the world 
 would not again be assailed for years, and that ambition and 
 jealousy would yield a respite to our bloody profession ; but 
 cheer up, my love hope for the best your trust is not in 
 
488 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the things of this life, and your happiness is without the 
 power of man." 
 
 " Ah ! Pendennyss ray husband," sobbed Emily, sinking 
 on his bosom, " take with you my prayers my lov y e every- 
 rljing that can console you everything that may profit you. 
 T will not tell you to be careful of your life ; your duty 
 leaches you that. As a soldier, expose it ; as a husband, 
 guard it ; and return to me as you leave me, a lover, the 
 dearest of men, and a Christian." 
 
 Unwilling to prolong the pain of parting, the earl gave his 
 wife a last embrace, held Marian affectionately to his bosom, 
 and mounting his horse, was out of sight in an instant. 
 
 Within a few days of the departure of Pendennyss, Chat- 
 terton was surprised with the entrance of his mother and 
 Catharine. His reception of them was that of a respectful 
 child, and his wife exerted herself to be kind to connexions 
 she could not love, in order to give pleasure to a husband 
 she adored. Their tale was soon told. Lord and Lady 
 Herriefield were separated ; and the dowager, alive to the 
 dangers of a young woman in Catharine s situation, and 
 without a single principle on which to rest the assurance 
 of her blameless conduct in future, had brought her to Eng 
 land, in order to keep off disgrace, by residing with hei 
 child herself. 
 
 There was nothing in his wife to answer the expectations 
 with which Lord Herriefield married. She had beauty, but 
 with that he was already sated ; her simplicity, which, by 
 having her attention drawn elsewhere, had at first charmed 
 him, was succeeded by the knowing conduct of a deter 
 mined follower of the fashions, and a decided woman of the 
 world. 
 
 It had never struck the viscount as impossible that an 
 artless and innocent girl would fall in love with his faded 
 
PRECAUTION. 489 
 
 and bilious face, but the moment Catharine betrayed the 
 arts of a manager, he saw at once the artifice that had been 
 practised ; of course he ceased to love her. 
 
 Men are flattered for a season with notice that has been 
 unsought, but it never fails to injure the woman who prac 
 tises it in the opinion of the other sex, in time. Without a 
 single feeling in common, without a regard to anything but 
 self, in either husband or wife, it could not but happen that 
 a separation must follow, or their days be spent in wrangling 
 and misery. Catharine willingly left her husband ; her hus 
 band more willingly got rid of her. 
 
 During all these movements the dowager had a difficult 
 game to play. It was unbecoming her to encourage the 
 strife, and it was against her wishes to suppress it ; she 
 therefore moralized with the peer, and frowned upon her 
 daughter. 
 
 The viscount listened to her truisms with the attention of 
 a boy who is told by a drunken father how wicked it is to 
 love liquor, and heeded them about as much ; while Kate, 
 mistress at all events of two thousand a year, minded her 
 mother s frowns as little as she regarded her smiles ; both 
 were indifferent to her. 
 
 A few days after the ladies left Lisbon, the viscount pro 
 ceeded to Italy in company with the repudiated wife of a 
 British naval officer ; and if Kate was not guilty of an offence 
 of equal magnitude, it was more owing to her mother s pre 
 sent vigilance than to her previous care. 
 
 The presence of Mrs. Wilson was a great source of con- 
 eolation to Emily in the absence of her husband ; and as 
 their longer abode in town was useless, the countess declining 
 to be presented without the earl, the whole family decided 
 upon a return into Northamptonshire. 
 
 The deanery had been furnished by order of Pendennyss 
 21* 
 
490 PRECAUTION. 
 
 immediately on his marriage ; and its mistress hastened to 
 take possession of her new dwelling. The amusement and 
 occupation of this movement, the planning ot little improve 
 ments, her various duties under her increased responsibilities, 
 kept Emily from dwelling unduly upon the danger of her 
 husband. She sought out amongst the first objects of her 
 bounty the venerable peasant whose loss had been formerly 
 
 supplied by Pendennyss on his first visit to B , after 
 
 the death of his father. There might not have been the 
 usual discrimination and temporal usefulness in this instance 
 which generally accompanied her benevolent acts ; but it 
 was associated with the image of her husband, and it could 
 excite no surprise in Mrs. Wilson, although it did in Marian, 
 to see her sister driving two or three times a week to relieve 
 the necessities of a man who appeared actually to be in want 
 of nothing. 
 
 Sir Edward was again amongst those he loved, and his 
 hospitable board was once more surrounded with the faces 
 of his friends and neighbors. The good-natured Mr. Haugh- 
 ton was always a welcome guest at the hall, and met, soon 
 after their return, the collected family of the baronet, at a 
 dinner given by the latter to his children and one or two of 
 his most intimate neighbors 
 
 " My Lady Pendennyss," cried Mr. Haughton, in the 
 course of the afternoon, " I have news from the earl, which 
 I know it will do your heart good to hear." 
 
 Emily smiled at the prospect of hearing in any manner 
 of her husband, although she internally questioned the 
 probability of Mr. Haughton s knowing anything of his 
 movements, of which her daily letters did not apprise her. 
 
 Will you favor me with the particulars of your intelli 
 gence, sir ?" said the countess. 
 
 " He has arrived safe with his regiment near Brussels ; I 
 
PRECAUTION. 491 
 
 heard it from a neighbor s son who saw him enter the house 
 occupied by Wellington, while he was standing in the crowd 
 Without, wailing to get a peep at the duke." 
 
 " Oh !" said Mrs. Wilson with a laugh, " Emily knew that 
 ten days ago. Could your friend tell us anything of Bona 
 parte? we are much interested in his movements just now." 
 
 Mr. Haughton, a good deal mortified to find his news 
 stale, mused a moment, as if in doubt to proceed or not ; 
 but liking of all things to act the part of a newspaper, he 
 continued 
 
 " Nothing more than you see in the prints ; but I suppose 
 your ladyship has heard about Captain Jar vis too ?" 
 
 " Why, no," said Emily, laughing ; " the movements of 
 Captain Jarvis are not quite as interesting to me as those of 
 Lord Pendennyss has the duke made him an aide-de-camp ?" 
 
 " Oh ! no," cried the other, exulting at his having some 
 thing new : " as soon as he heard of the return of Boney, 
 he threw up his commission and got married." 
 
 " Married !" cried John ; " not to Miss Harris, surely." 
 
 ** No ; to a silly girl he met in Cornwall, who was fool 
 enough to be caught with his gold lace. He married one 
 day, and the next told his disconsolate wife and panic-stricken 
 mother that the honor of the Jarvises must sleep until the 
 supporters of the name became sufficiently numerous to risk 
 them in the field of battle." 
 
 " And how did Mrs. Jarvis and Sir Timo s lady relish the 
 news ?" inquired John, expecting something ridiculous. 
 
 "Not at all," rejoined Mr. Haughton; "the former 
 sobbed, and said she had only married him for his bravery 
 and red coat, and the lady exclaimed against the destruction 
 of his budding honors." 
 
 " How did it terminate ?" asked Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 ** Why, it seems while they were quarrelling about it, the 
 
492 PRECAUTION. 
 
 War-Office cut the matter short by accepting his resignation, 
 I suppose the commander-in-chief had learned his character ; 
 but the matter was warmly contested : they even drove the 
 captain to a declaration of his principles." 
 
 " And what kind of ones might they have been, Haugh- 
 ton ?" said Sir Edward, drily. 
 
 " Republican." 
 
 " Republican !" exclaimed two or three in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, liberty and equality, he contended, were his idols, 
 and he could not find it in his heart to fight against Bona 
 parte." 
 
 " A somewhat singular conclusion," said Mr. Benfield, 
 musing. " I remember when I sat in the House, there was 
 a party who were fond of the cry of this said liberty ; but 
 when they got the power they did not seem to me to suffer 
 people to go more at large than they went before ; but I 
 suppose they were diffident of telling the world their minds 
 after they were put in such responsible stations, for fear of 
 the effect of example." 
 
 " Most people like liberty as servants but not as masters, 
 uncle," cried John, with a sneer. 
 
 " Captain Jarvis, it seems, liked it as a preservative against 
 danger," continued Mr. Haughton ; " to avoid ridicule in his 
 new neighborhood, he has consented to his father s wishes, 
 and turned merchant in the city again." 
 
 " Where I sincerely hope he will remain," cried John, who, 
 since the accident of the arbor, could not tolerate the unfor 
 tunate youth. 
 
 " Amen !" said Emily, in an under tone, heard only by her 
 brother. 
 
 " But Sir Timo what has become of Sir Timo the good, 
 nonest merchant ?" asked John. 
 
 " He has dropt the title, insists on being called plain Mr 
 
PRECAUTION. 493 
 
 Jarvis, and lives entirely in Cornwall. His hopeful son-in 
 law has gone with his regiment to Flanders ; and Lady Eger- 
 ton, being unable to live without her father s assistance, is 
 obliged to hide her consequence in the west also." 
 
 The subject became now disagreeable to Lady Moseley, 
 and it was changed. Such conversations made Jane more 
 reserved and dissatisfied than ever. She had no one respect 
 able excuse to offer for her partiality to her former lover, and 
 when her conscience told her the mortifying fact, was apt to 
 think that others remembered it too. 
 
 The letters from the continent now teemed with prepara 
 tions for the approaching contest ; and the apprehensions of 
 our heroine and her friends increased, in proportion to the 
 nearness of the struggle, on which hung not only the fates 
 of thousands of individuals, but of adverse princes and 
 mighty empires. In this confusion of interests, and of jar 
 ring of passions, there were offered prayers almost hourly 
 for the safety of Pendennyss, which were as pur* -and ardent 
 as the love which prompted them. 
 
494 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIIL 
 
 NAPOLEON had commenced those daring an-d rapid move 
 ments, which for a time threw the peace of the world into 
 the scale of fortune, and which nothing but the interposition 
 of a ruling Providence could avert from their threatened suc 
 cess. As the th dragoons wheeled into a field already 
 
 deluged with English blood, on the heights of Quatre Bras, 
 the eye of its gallant colonel saw a friendly battalion falling 
 beneath the sabres of the enemy s cuirassiers. The word was 
 passed, the column opens, the sounds of the quivering bugle 
 were heard for a moment above the roar of the cannon and 
 the shouts of the combatants ; the charge, sweeping like a 
 whirlwind, fell heavily on those treacherous Frenchmen, who 
 to-day had sworn fidelity to Louis, and to-morrow intended 
 lifting their hands in allegiance to his rival. 
 
 " Spare my life in mercy," cried an officer, already dread 
 fully wounded, who stood shrinking from the impending blow 
 of an enraged Frenchman. An English dragoon dashed at 
 the cuirassier, and with one blow severed his arm from his 
 body. 
 
 " Thank God," sighed the wounded officer, sinking beneath 
 the horse s feet. 
 
 His rescuer threw himself from the saddle, and raising the 
 fallen man inquired into his wounds. It was Pendennyss, 
 and it was Egerton. The wounded man groaned aloud, as he 
 saw the face of him who had averted the fatal blow ; but it 
 was not the hour for explanations or confessions, other than 
 
PRECAUTION". 495 
 
 those with which the dying soldiers endeavored to make their 
 tardy peace with their God. 
 
 Sir Henry was given in charge to two slightly wounded 
 British soldiers, and the earl remounted : the scattered troops 
 were rallied at the sound of the trumpet, and again and 
 again, led by their dauntless colonel, were seen in the thickest 
 of the fray, with sabres drenched in blood, and voices hoarse 
 with the shouts of victory. 
 
 The period between the battles of Quatre Bras and Wa 
 terloo was a trying one to the discipline and courage of the 
 British army. The discomfited Prussians on their flank had 
 been routed and compelled to retire, and in their front was 
 an enemy, brave, skilful, and victorious, led by the greatest 
 captain of the age. The prudent commander of the English 
 forces fell back with dignity and reluctance to the field of 
 Waterloo ; here the mighty struggle was to terminate, and 
 the eye of every experienced soldier looked on those eminen 
 ces as on the future graves for thousands. 
 
 During this solemn interval of comparative inactivity the 
 mind of Pendennyss dwelt on the affection, the innocence, the 
 beauty and worth of his Emily, until the curdling blood, as 
 he thought on her lot should his life be the purchase of the 
 coming victory, warned him to quit the gloomy subject, for 
 the consolations of that religion which only could yield him 
 the solace his wounded feelings required. In his former cam 
 paigns the earl had been sensible of the mighty changes of 
 death, and had ever kept in view the preparations necessary 
 to meet it with hope and joy; but the world clung around 
 him now, in the best affections of his nature, and it was only 
 as he could picture the happy reunion with his Emily in a 
 future life, that he could look on a separation in this with 
 out despair. 
 
 The vicinity of the enemy admitted of no relaxation in 
 
496 PRECAUTION. 
 
 the strictest watchfulness in the British lines: and the 
 comfortless night of the seventeenth was passed by the earl, 
 and his Lieutenant Colonel, George Denbigh, on the samo 
 cloak, and under the open canopy of Heaven. 
 
 As the opening cannon of the enemy gave the signal for 
 the commencing conflict, Pendennyss mounted his charger 
 with a last thought on his distant wife. With a mighty 
 struggle he tore her as it were from his bosom, and gave 
 the remainder of the day to duty 
 
 Who has not heard of the events of that fearful hour, on 
 which the fate of Europe hung as it were suspended in the 
 scale ? On one side supported by the efforts of desperate 
 resolution, guided by the most consummate art ; and on the 
 other defended by a discipline and enduring courage almost 
 without a parallel. 
 
 The indefatigable Blucher arrived, and the star of 
 Napoleon sank. 
 
 Pendennyss threw himself from his horse, on the night of the 
 eighteenth of June, as he gave way by orders, in the pursuit, to 
 the fresher battalions of the Prussians, with the languor that 
 follows unusual excitement, and mental thanksgivings that 
 this bloody work was at length ended. The image of 
 his Emily again broke over the sterner feelings of the battle, 
 like the first glimmerings of light which succeed the awful 
 darkness of the eclipse of the sun : and he again breathed 
 freely, in the consciousness of the happiness which would 
 await his speedy return. 
 
 " I am sent for the colonel of the th dragoons," said 
 
 a courier in broken English to a soldier, near where the earl 
 lay on the ground, waiting the preparations of his attendants; 
 " have I found the right regiment, my friend ?" 
 
 " To be sure you have," answered the man, without 
 looking up from his toil on his favorite animal, " you might 
 
PRECAUTION. 497 
 
 have tracked us by the dead Frenchmen, I should think. 
 So you want my lord, my lad, do you ? do we move again 
 to-night ?" suspending his labor for a moment in expectation 
 of a reply. 
 
 " Not to my knowledge," rejoined the courier ; " my 
 message is to your colonel, from a dying man. Will you 
 point out his station ?" 
 
 The soldier complied, the message was soon delivered, 
 and Pendennyss prepared to obey its summons immediately. 
 Preceded by the messenger as a guide, and followed by 
 Harmer, the earl retraced his steps over that ground on 
 which he had but a few hours before been engaged in the 
 deadly strife of man to man, hand to hand 
 
 How different is the contemplation of a field of battle 
 during and after the confiict ! The excitement, suspended 
 success, shouts, uproar, and confusion of the former, prevent 
 any contemplation of the nicer parts of this confused mass 
 of movements, charges, and retreats ; or if a brilliant advance 
 is made, a masterly retreat " effected, the imagination is 
 chained by the splendor and glory of the act, without 
 resting for a moment on the sacrifice of individual happiness 
 with which it is purchased. A battle-ground from which 
 the whirlwind of the combat has passed, presents a dif 
 ferent sight ; it offers the very consummation of human 
 misery. 
 
 There may occasionally be an individual, who from 
 station, distempered mind, or the encouragement of chimeri 
 cal ideas of glory, quits the theatre of life with at least the 
 appearance of pleasure in his triumphs. If such there be in 
 reality, if this rapture of departing glory be anything more 
 than the deception of a distempered excitement, the subject 
 of its exhibition is to be greatly pitied. To the Christian, 
 dying in peace with both God and man, can it alone be ceded 
 
498 PRECAUTION. 
 
 in the eye of reason, to pc ur out his existence with a smile on 
 his quivering lip. 
 
 And the warrior, who falls in the very arms of victory, 
 after passing a life devoted to the world ; even, if he sees 
 kingdoms hang suspended on his success, may smile indeed, 
 may utter sentiments full of loyalty and zeal, may be the ad 
 miration of the world, and what is his reward ? a deathless 
 name, and an existence of misery, which knows no termination. 
 
 Christianity alone can make us good soldiers in any cause, 
 for he who knows how to live, is always the least afraid to die. 
 
 Pendennyss and his companions pushed their way over 
 the ground occupied before the battle by the enemy ; descend 
 ed into and through that little valley, in which yet lay, in 
 undistinguished confusion, masses of the dead and dying of 
 either side ; and again over the ridge, on which could be 
 marked the situation of those gallant squares which had so 
 long resisted the efforts of the horse and artillery by the 
 groups of bodies, fallen where they had bravely stood, until 
 even the callous Harmer sickened with the sight of a waste 
 of life that he had but a few hours before exultingly con 
 tributed to increase. 
 
 Appeals to their feelings as they rode through the field 
 had been frequent, and their progress was much retarded by 
 attempts to contribute to the ease of a wounded or a dying 
 man ; but as the courier constantly urged speed, as the 
 only means of securing the object of their ride, these halts 
 were reluctantly abandoned. 
 
 It was ten o clock before they reached the farm-house, 
 where, in the midst of hundreds of his countrymen, lay the 
 former lover of Jane. 
 
 As the subject of his confession must be anticipated by 
 the reader, we will give a short relation of his life, and of 
 those acts which more materially affect our history. 
 
PRECAUTION. 499 
 
 Henry Egerton had been turned early on the world, like 
 hundreds of his countrymen, without any principle to 
 counteract the arts of infidelity, or resist the temptations of 
 life. His father held a situation under government, and 
 was devoted to his rise in the diplomatic line. His mother 
 was a woman of fashion, who lived for effect and idle com 
 petition with her sisters in weakness and folly. All he learnt 
 in his father s house was selfishness, from the example of 
 one, and a love of high life and its extravagance from the 
 Other. 
 
 He entered the army young, and from choice. The 
 splendor and reputation of the service caught his fancy ; 
 and, by pride and constitution, he was indifferent to personal 
 danger. Yet he loved London and its amusements better 
 than glory ; and the money of his uncle, Sir Edgar, whose heir 
 he was reputed to be, raised him to the rank of lieutenant 
 colonel, without his spending an hour in the field. 
 
 Egerton had some abilities, and a good deal of ardor of 
 temperament, by nature. The former, from indulgence and 
 example, degenerated into acquiring the art to please in 
 mixed society ; and the latter, from want of employment, 
 expended itself at the card table. 
 
 The association between the vices is intimate. There 
 really appears to be a kind of modesty in sin that makes it 
 ashamed of good company. If we are unable to reconcile a 
 favorite propensity to our principles, we are apt to abandon 
 the unpleasant restraint on our actions, rather than admit 
 the incongruous mixture. Freed entirely from the fetters 
 of our morals, what is there that our vices will not prompt 
 us to commit? Egerton, like thousands of others, went on 
 from step to step, until he found himself in the world, free 
 to follow all his inclinations, so he violated none of the 
 decencies of life. 
 
500 PRECAUTION". 
 
 When in Spain, in his only campaign, he was accidentally, 
 as has been mentioned, thrown in the way of the Donna 
 Julia, and brought her off the ground under the influence 
 of natural sympathy and national feeling ; a kind of merit 
 that makes vice only more dangerous, by making it some 
 times amiable. He had not seen his dependant long before 
 her beauty, situation, and his passions decided him to effect 
 her ruin. 
 
 This was an occupation that his figure, manners, and 
 propensities had made him an adept in, and nothing was 
 further from his thoughts than the commission of any other 
 than the crime that, according to his code, a gentleman 
 might be guilty of with impunity. 
 
 It is, however, the misfortune of sin, that from being our 
 slave it becomes a tyrant ; and Egerton attempted what in 
 other countries, and where the laws ruled, might have cost 
 him his life. 
 
 The conjecture of Pendennyss was true. He saw the face 
 of the officer who interposed between him and his villanous 
 attempt, but was hid himself from view. He aimed not at 
 his life, but at his own escape. Happily his first shot suc 
 ceeded, for the earl would have been sacrificed to preserve 
 the character of a man of honor ; though no one was more 
 regardless of the estimation he was held in by the virtuous 
 than Colonel Egerton. 
 
 In pursuance of his plans on Mrs. Fitzgerald, the colonel 
 had sedulously avoided admitting any of his companions into 
 the secret of his having a female in his care. 
 
 When he left the army to return home, he remained 
 until a movement of the troops to a distant part of the 
 country enabled him to effect his own purposes, without 
 incurring their ridicule ; and when he found himself obliged 
 to abandon his vehicle for a refuge in the woods, the fear of 
 
PRECAUTION. 501 
 
 detection made him alter his course; and under the pretentwj 
 of wishing to be in a battle about to be fought, he secretly 
 rejoined the army, and the gallantry of Colonel Egerton was 
 mentioned in the next despatches. 
 
 Sir Herbert Nicholson commanded the advanced guard, 
 at which the earl arrived with the Donna Julia ; and like 
 every other brave man (unless guilty himself) was indignant 
 at the villany of the fugitive. The confusion and enormities 
 daily practised in the theatre of the war prevented any close 
 inquiries into the subject, and circumstances had so enveloped 
 Egerton in mystery, that nothing but an interview with the 
 lady herself was likely to expose him. 
 
 With Sir Herbert Nicholson he had been in habits of 
 intimacy, and on that gentleman s alluding in a conversation 
 in the barracks at F to the lady brought into his quar 
 ters before Lisbon, he accidentally omitted mentioning the 
 name of her rescuer. Egerton had never before heard the 
 transaction spoken of, and as he had of course never men 
 tioned the subject himself, was ignorant who had interfered 
 between him and his views ; also of the fate of Donna Julia ; 
 indeed, he thought it probable that it had not much improved 
 by a change of guardians. 
 
 In coming into Northamptonshire he had several views ; 
 he wanted a temporary retreat from his creditors. Jarvis 
 had an infant fondness for play, without an adequate skill, 
 and the money of the young ladies, in his necessities, was 
 becoming of importance ; but the daughters of Sir Edward 
 Moseley were of a description more suited to his taste, and 
 their portions were as ample as the others. He had become 
 in some degree attached to Jane ; and as her imprudent 
 parents, satisfied with his possessing the exterior and requi 
 site recommendations of a gentleman, admitted his visits 
 freely, he determiAed to make her his wife. 
 
502 PRECAUTION. 
 
 When he met Denbigh the first time, he saw that chance 
 had thrown him in the way of a man who might hold his 
 character in his power. He had never seen him as Penden- 
 nyss, and, it will be remembered, was ignorant of the name 
 of Julia s friend : he now learnt for the first time that it was 
 Denbigh. Uneasy at he knew not what, fearful of some 
 exposure he knew not how, when Sir Herbert alluded to 
 the occurrence, with a view to rebut the charge, if Denbigh 
 should choose to make one, and with the near-sightedness 
 of guilt, he pretended to know the occurrence, and under the 
 promise of secresy, mentioned that the name of the officer 
 was Denbigh. He had noticed Denbigh avoiding Sir Her 
 bert at the ball ; and judging others from himself, thought it 
 was a wish to avoid any allusions to the lady he had brought 
 into the other s quarters that induced the measure ; for he 
 was in hopes that if Denbigh was not as guilty as himself, 
 he was sufficiently so to wish to keep the transaction from 
 the eyes of Emily. He was, however, prepare^ for an 
 explosion or an alliance with him, when the sudden depar 
 ture of Sir Herbert removed the danger of a collision. 
 Believing at last that they were to be brothers-in-law, and 
 mistaking the earl for his cousin, whose name he bore, 
 Egerton became reconciled to the association ; while Pen- 
 dennj^ss, having in his absence heard, on inquiring, some of 
 the vices of the colonel, was debating with himself whether 
 he should expose them to Sir Edward or not. 
 
 It was in their occasional interchange of civilities that 
 Pendennyss placed his pocket-book upon a table, while he 
 exhibited the plants to the colonel : the figure of Emily 
 passing the window drew him from the room, and Egerton, 
 having ended his examination, observing the book, put it 
 in his own pocket, to return it to its owner when the/ uexf 
 met. 
 
PRECAUTION. 503 
 
 The situation, name, and history of Mrs. Fitzgerald were 
 never mentioned by the Moseleys in public ; but Jane, in 
 the confidence of her affections, had told her lover who the 
 inmate of the cottage was. The idea of her being kept 
 there by Denbigh immediately occurred to him, and although 
 he was surprised at the audacity of the thing, he was deter 
 mined to profit by the occasion. 
 
 To pay this visit, he stayed away from the excursion on 
 the water, as Pendennyss had done to avoid his friend, Lord 
 Henry Stapleton. An excuse of business, which served for 
 his apology, kept the colonel from seeing Denbigh to return 
 the book, until after his visit to the cottage. His rhapsody 
 of love, and offers to desert his intended wife, were nothing 
 but the common- place talk of his purposes ; and his pre 
 sumption in alluding to his situation with Miss Moseley, 
 proceeded from his impressions as to Julia s real character. 
 In the struggle for the bell, the pocket-book of Denbigh 
 accidentally fell from his coat, and the retreat of the colonel 
 was too precipitate to enable him to recover it. 
 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald was too much alarmed to distinguish 
 nicely, and Egerton proceeded to the ball-room with the 
 indifference of a hardened offender. When the arrival of 
 Miss Jarvis, to whom he had committed himself, prompted 
 him to a speedy declaration, and the unlucky conversation 
 of Mr. Holt brought about a probable detection of his gaming 
 propensities, the colonel determined to get rid of his awkward 
 situation and his debts by a coup-de-main. He accordingly 
 eloped with Miss Jarvis. 
 
 What portion of the foregoing narrative made the dying 
 confession of Egerton to the man he had so lately discovered 
 lo be the Earl of Pendennyss, the reader can easily imagine. 
 
504 PRECAUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 THE harvest had been gathered, and the beautiful vales 
 of Pendennyss were shooting forth a second crop of verdure. 
 The husbandman was turning his prudent forethought to the 
 promises of the coming year, while the castle itself exhibited 
 to the gaze of the wondering peasant a sight of cheerful 
 ness and animation which had not been seen in it since the 
 days of the good duke. Its numerous windows were opened 
 to the light of the sun, its halls teemed with the faces of its 
 happy inmates. Servants in various liveries were seen glid 
 ing through its magnificent apartments and multiplied pas 
 sages. Horses, grooms, and carriages, with varied costumes 
 and different armorial bearings, crowded its spacious stables 
 and offices. Everything spoke society, splendor, and activity 
 without ; everything denoted order, propriety, and happiness 
 within. 
 
 In a long range of spacious apartments were grouped in 
 the pursuit of their morning employments, or in arranging 
 their duties and pleasures of the day, the guests and owners 
 of the princely abode. 
 
 In one room was John Moseley, carefully examining the 
 properties of some flints which were submitted to his exami 
 nation by his attending servant ; while Grace, sitting at his 
 side, playfully snatches the stones from his hand, as she 
 cries half reproachfully, half tenderly 
 
 " You must not devote yourself to your gun so incessantly, 
 Moseley ; it is cruel to kill inoffensive birds for your amuse 
 ment only," 
 
PRECAUTION. 505 
 
 " Ask Emily s cook, and Mr. Haughtcii s appetite," said 
 John, coolly extending his hand towards her for the flint 
 " whether no one is gratified but myself. I tell you, Grace, 
 I seldom fire in vain." 
 
 " That only makes the matter worse ; the slaughter you 
 commit is dreadful." 
 
 " Oh !" cried John, with a laugh, " the ci-devant Captain 
 Jarvis is a sportsman to your mind. He would shoot a month 
 without moving a feather ; he was a great friend to," throw 
 ing an arch look to his solitary sister, who sat on a sofa at a 
 distance perusing a book, " Jane s feathered songsters." 
 
 " But now, Mosely," said Grace, yielding the flints, but 
 gently retaining the hand that took them, " Pendenyss and 
 Chatterton intend driving their wives, like good husbands, to 
 see the beautiful waterfall in the mountains ; and what am I 
 to do this long tedious morning ]" 
 
 John stole an enquiring glance, to see if his wife was very 
 anxious to join the party cast one look of regret on a beau 
 tiful agate that he had selected, and inquired 
 
 " Do yuu wish to go very much, Mrs. Mosely ?" 
 
 " Indeed indeed I do," said the other, eagerly, " if." 
 
 "If what 7" 
 
 " You will drive me ?" continued she, with a cheek slightly 
 tinged with color. 
 
 " Well, then," answered John, with deliberation, and 
 regarding his wife with affection " I will go on one condi 
 tion." 
 
 " Name it !" cried Grace, with still increasing color. 
 
 " That you will not expose your health again in going to 
 the church on a Sunday, if it rains." 
 
 " The carriage is so close, Mosely," answered Grace, with 
 a paler cheek than before, and eyes fixed on the carpet, " it 
 is impossible I can take cold : you seethe earl, and countess, 
 22 
 
506 PRECAUTION. 
 
 and aunt Wilson never miss public worship, when possibly 
 within their power." 
 
 " The earl goes with his wife ; but what becomes of poor 
 me at such times !" said John, taking her hand and pressing 
 it kindly. " I like to hear a good sermon, but not in bad 
 weather. You must consent to oblige me, who only live in 
 your presence." 
 
 Grace smiled faintly, as John, pursuing the point, said 
 
 " What do you say to my condition ?" 
 
 " Well then, if you wish," replied Grace, without the look 
 of gaiety her hopes had first inspired, " I will not go if it 
 rain." 
 
 John ordered his phaeton, and his wife went to her room 
 to prepare for the trip, and to regret her own resolution. 
 
 In the recess of a window, in which bloomed a profusion 
 of exotics, stood the figure of Lady Marian Denbigh, playing 
 with a half-blown rose of the richest colors ; and before her, 
 leaning against the angle of the wall, stood her kinsman the 
 Duke of Derwent. 
 
 "You heard the plan at the breakfast table," said his 
 Grace, " to visit the little falls in the hills. But I suppose 
 you have seen them too often to undergo the fatigue V 
 
 " Oh no ! I love that ride dearly, and should wish to ac 
 company the countess in her first visit to it. I had half a 
 mind to ask George to take me in his phaeton." 
 
 " My curricle would be honored with the presence of Lady 
 Marian Denbigh," cried the duke with animation, " if she 
 would accept me for her knight on the occasion." 
 
 Marian bowed an assent, in evident satisfaction, as the 
 duke proceeded 
 
 " But if you take me as your knight I should wear your 
 ladyship s colors ;" and he held out his hand towards the 
 budding rose. Lady Marian hesitated a moment^ looked out 
 
PRECAUTION. 507 
 
 at the prospect up at the wall turned, and wondered 
 where her brother was ; and still finding the hand of the 
 duke extended, while his eye rested on her in admiration, she 
 gave him the boon with a cheek that vied with the richest 
 tints of the flower. They separated to prepare, and it was 
 on their return from the falls that the duke seemed uncom 
 monly gay and amusing, and the lady silent with her tongue, 
 though her eyes danced in every direction but towards her 
 cousin. 
 
 " Really, my dear Lady Mosely," said the dowager, as, 
 seated by the side of her companion, her eyes roved over the 
 magnificence within, and widely extended domains without 
 " Emily is well established indeed better even than my 
 Grace." 
 
 " Grace has an affectionate husband," replied the other, 
 gravely, " and one that I hope will make her happy." 
 
 " Oh ! no doubt happy !" said Lady Chatterton, hastily : 
 " but they say Emily has a jointure of twelve thousand a 
 year by-the-by," she added, in a low tone, though no one 
 was near enough to hear what she said, " could not the earl 
 have settled Lumley Castle on her instead of the deanery ?" 
 
 " Upon my word I never think of such gloomy subjects as 
 provisions for widowhood," cried Lady Mosely : " you have 
 been in Annerdale-House is it not a princely mansion "?" 
 
 " Princely, indeed," rejoined the dowager, sighing : " don t 
 the earl intend increasing the rents of this estate as the leases 
 fall in ] I am told they are very low now !" 
 
 " I believe not," said the other. " He has enough, and is 
 willing others should prosper. But there is Clara, with her 
 little boy is he not a lovely child 1" cried the grandmother, 
 rising to take the infant in her arms. 
 
 " Oh ! excessively beautiful !" said the dowager, looking 
 the other way, and observing Catharine making a movement 
 
508 PRECAUTION. 
 
 towards Lord Henry Stapleton, she called to her. " Lady 
 Herriefield come this way, my dear I wish to speak 
 to you." 
 
 Kate obeyed with a sullen pout of her pretty lip, and en 
 tered into some idle discussion about a cap, though her eyes 
 wandered round the rooms in listless vacancy. 
 
 The dowager had the curse of bad impressions in youth to 
 contend with, and labored infinitely harder now to make her 
 daughter act right, than formerly she had ever done to make 
 her act wrong. 
 
 " Here ! uncle Benfield," cried Emily, with a face glowing 
 with health and animation, as she approached his seat with 
 a glass in her hands. "Here is the negus you wished ; I 
 have made it myself, and you will praise it of course." 
 
 " Oh ! my dear Lady Pendennyss," said the old gentleman, 
 rising politely from his seat to receive the beverage : " you 
 are putting yourself to a great deal of trouble for an old 
 bachelor like me ; too much indeed, too much." 
 
 " Old bachelors are sometimes more esteemed than young 
 one," cried the earl gaily, joining them in time to hear this 
 speech. " Here is my friend, Mr. Peter Johnson ; who 
 knows when we may dance at his wedding 1" 
 
 " My lord, and my lady, and my honored master," said 
 Peter gravely, in reply, bowing respectfully where he stood, 
 waiting to take his master s glass " I am past the age to 
 think of a wife : I am seventy-three coming next lammas-, 
 counting by the old style." 
 
 " What do you intend to do with your three hundred a 
 year," said Emily with a smile, " unless you bestow it on 
 some good woman, for making the evening of your life com 
 fortable V 
 
 " My My hem my lady," said the steward, blushing : 
 u I had a little thought, with your kind ladyship s consent, 9 
 
PRECAUTION. 500 
 
 I have no relations, chick or child in the world, what to do 
 with it." 
 
 " I should be happy to hear your plan," said the countess, 
 observing that the steward was anxious to communicate some 
 thing. 
 
 " \VIiy, my lady, if my lord and my honored master s 
 agreeable, I did think of making another codicil to master s 
 will in order to dispose of it." 
 
 " Your master s will," said the earl laughing ; " why not 
 to your own, good Peter T 
 
 " My honored lord," said the steward, with great humility, 
 " it don t become a poor serving-man like me to make a will." 
 
 " But how will you prove it?" said the earl, kindly, willing 
 to convince him of his error ; " you must be both dead to 
 prove it." 
 
 " Our wills," said Peter, gulping his words, " will be 
 proved on the same day." 
 
 His master looked round at him with great affection, and 
 both the earl and Emily were too much struck to say any 
 thing. Peter had, however, the subject too much at heart 
 to abandon it, just as he had broken the ice. He anxiously 
 wished for the countess s consent to the scheme, for he would 
 not affront her, even after he was dead. 
 
 " My lady Miss Emmy," said Johnson, eagerly, " my plan 
 is, if my honored master s agreeable to make a codicil, and 
 give my mite to a little Lady Emily Denbigh." 
 
 "Oh! Peter, you and uncle Benfield are both too good," 
 cried Emily, laughing and blushing, as she hastened to Clara 
 and her mother. 
 
 " Thank you, thank you," cried the delighted earl, follow 
 ing his wife with his eyes, and shaking the steward cordially 
 by the hand ; " and, if no better expedient be adopted by us, 
 you have full permission to do as you please with your money. 
 
flO PRECAUTION. 
 
 " Peter," said his master to him in a low tone, " you 
 should never speak of such things prematurely ; now I 
 remember when the Earl of Pendennyss, my nephew, was 
 first presented to me, I was struck with the delicacy and pro 
 priety of his demeanor, and the Lady Pendennyss, my niece, 
 too ; you never see anything forward, or Ah ! Emmy, dear," 
 said the old man, tenderly interrupting himself, "you are too 
 good to remember your old uncle," taking one of the fine 
 peaches she handed him from a plate. 
 
 " My lord," said Mr. Haughton to the earl, " Mrs. Ives and 
 myself have had a contest about the comforts of matrimony j 
 she insists she may be quite as happy at Bolton Parsonage 
 as in this noble castle, and with this rich prospect in view." 
 
 "I hope, !> said Francis, "you are not teaching my wife to- 
 be discontented with her humble lot if so, both hers and 
 your visit will be an unhappy one." 
 
 " It would be no easy task, if our good friend intended 
 any such thing by his jests," said Clara, smiling. " I know 
 my true interests, I trust, too well, to wish to change my for 
 tune." 
 
 " You are right," said Pendennyss ; " it is wonderful how 
 little our happiness depends on a temporal condition. When 
 here, or at Lumley Castle, surrounded by my tenantry, there- 
 are, I confess, moments of weakness, in which the loss of 
 my wealth or rank would be missed greatly ; but when on ser 
 vice, subjected to great privations, and surrounded by men su 
 perior to me in military rank, who say unto me go, and I go 
 come, and I come I find my enjoyments intrinsically 
 the same." 
 
 " That," said Francis, " may be owing to your Lordship T s 
 tempered feelings, which have taught you to look beyond 
 this world for pleasures and consolation." 
 
 " It has, doubtless, an effect," said the earl, " but there is 
 
PRECAUTION. 511 
 
 no truth of which I am more fully persuaded, than that our 
 happiness here does not depend upon our lot in life, so we 
 are not suffering for necessaries even changes bring less 
 real misery than they are supposed to do." 
 
 " Doubtless," cried Mr. Haughton, " under the circum 
 stances, J would not wish to change even with your lordship 
 unless, indeed," he continued, with a smile and bow to 
 the countess, " it were the temptation of your lovely wife." 
 
 "You are quite polite," said Emily laughing, "but I have 
 no desire to deprive Mrs. Haughton of a companion she has 
 made out so well with these twenty years past." 
 
 " Thirty, my lady, if you please." 
 
 " And thirty more, I hope," continued Emily, as a servant 
 announced the several carriages at the door. The younger 
 part of the company now hastened to their different engage 
 ments, and Chatterton handed Harriet ; John, Grace ; and 
 Pendennyss, Emily, into their respective carriages ; the duke 
 and Lady Marian following, but at some little distance from 
 the rest of the party. 
 
 As the earl drove from the door, the countess looked up 
 to a window, at which were standing her aunt and Doctor 
 Ives. She kissed her hand to them, with a face, in which 
 glowed the mingled expression of innocence, love, and joy. 
 
 Before leaving the Park, the party passed Sir Edward ; 
 with his wife leaning on one arm and Jane on the other, pur 
 suing their daily walk. The baronet followed the carriages 
 with his eyes, and exchanged looks of the fondest love with 
 his children, as they drove slowly and respectfully by him ; 
 and if the glance which followed on Jane, did not speak 
 equal pleasure, it surely denoted its proper proportion of 
 paternal love. 
 
 "You have much reason to congratulate yourself on the 
 happy termination of your labors," said the doctor, with a 
 
512 PRECAUTION. 
 
 smile, to the widow ; " Emily is placed, so far as human fore- 
 sight can judge, in the happiest of all stations a female can 
 be in : she is the pious wife of a pious husband, beloved, and 
 deserving of it." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Wilson, drawing back from following 
 the phaeton with her eyes, " they are as happy as this world 
 will admit, and, what is better, they are well prepared to 
 meet any reverse of fortune which may occur, as well as to 
 discharge the duties on which they have entered. I do not 
 think," continued she, musing, " that Pendennyss can ever 
 doubt the affections of such a woman as Emily." 
 
 " I should think not," said the doctor ; " but what can 
 excite such a thought in your breast, and one so much to the 
 prejudice of George]" 
 
 " The only unpleasant thing I have ever observed ia 
 him," said Mrs. Wilson gravely, "is the suspicion which 
 induced him to adopt the disguise in which he entered our 
 family." 
 
 " He did not adopt it, madam chance and circumstan 
 ces drew it around him accidentally ; and when you consider 
 the peculiar state of his mind from the discovery of his 
 mother s misconduct his own great wealth and rank it is 
 not so surprising that he should yield to a deception, rather 
 harmless than injurious." 
 
 " Dr. Ives," said Mrs. Wilson, " is not wont to defend 
 deceit." 
 
 " Nor do I now, madam," replied the doctor with a 
 smile: "I acknowledge the offence of George, myself, wife, 
 and son. I remonstrated at the time upon principle ; I said 
 the end would not justify the means ; that a departure from 
 ordinary rules of propriety was at all times dangerous, and 
 seldom practised with impunity." 
 
 " And you failed to convince your hearers," cried Mrs. 
 
PRECAUTION. 5 13 
 
 Wilson, gaily; "a novelty in ypur case, my good reo- 
 tor." 
 
 " I thank you for the compliment," said the doctor ; " I 
 did convince them as to the truth of the principle, but the 
 earl contended that his case might make an innocent excep 
 tion. He had the vanity to think, I believe, that by con 
 cealing his real name, he injured himself more than any one 
 else, and got rid of the charge in some such way. He is, 
 however, thoroughly convinced of the truth of the position, 
 by practice ; his sufferings, growing out of the mistake of 
 his real character, and which could not have happened had 
 he appeared in proper person, having been greater than he 
 is ready to acknowledge." 
 
 " If they study the fate of the Donna Julia, and his own 
 weakness," said the widow, " they will have a salutary 
 moral always at hand, to teach them the importance of two 
 cardinal virtues at least obedience and truth." 
 
 "Julia has suffered much," replied the doctor; "and 
 although she has returned to her father, the consequences of 
 her imprudence are likely to continue. When once the bonds 
 of mutual confidence and respect are broken, they may be 
 partially restored, it is true, but never with a warmth 
 and reliance such as existed previously. To return, however, 
 to yourself, do you not feel a sensation of delight at the 
 prosperous end of your exertions in behalf of Emily V 
 
 " It is certainly pleasant to think we have discharged our 
 duties, and the task is much easier than we are apt to 
 suppose," said Mrs. Wilson ; " it is only to commence the 
 foundation, se that it will be able to support the superstruc 
 ture. I have endeavored to make Emily a Christian. I 
 have endeavored to form such a taste and principles 
 in her, that she would not be apt to admire an improper 
 suitor and I have labored to prepare her to discharge her 
 22* 
 
514 PRECAUTION. 
 
 continued duties through life, in such a manner and with 
 such a faith, as under the providence of God will result in 
 happiness far exceeding anything she now enjoys. In all 
 these, by the blessing of Heaven, I have succeeded, and 
 had occasion offered, I would have assisted her inexperience 
 through the more delicate decisions of her sex, though in no 
 instance would I attempt to control them." 
 
 " You are right, my dear madam," said the doctor, taking 
 her kindly by the hand, " and had I a daughter, I would 
 follow a similar course. Give her delicacy, religion, and a 
 proper taste, aided by the unseen influence of a prudent 
 parent s care, and the chances of a woman for happiness 
 would be much greater than they are ; and I am entirely 
 of your opinion That prevention is at all times better 
 than cure. " 
 
 THE END. 
 
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