A — c: 1 A -— ^= g 1 = -r 1 — - 1 ===== JO =^^~ ^D 1 — — fp-i 1 3 o 1 7 -"' ~ ' — - cc 5 = ^ 1 ~._^__ -< — ■! !■■ E> 5 SSS^S ' — - a -^^— -c iH or *v o v [v^ »» / / J / UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES to TALES OF THE WOODS AND FIELDS. & j&ccont> jccries OF "THE TWO OLD MEN'S TALE S." IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET. J 836. 1 . ' ...••* *•_• i 1 * • gavill, (late Harjette, & SavillJ 107, St. Martin's Lane. Msst v.l TO MY DEAR AND HONOURED FATHER, A TRIBUTE OF DUTY, AFFECTION, AND GRATITUDE, THESE SIMPLE TALES ARE INSCRIBED. It must be confessed, that the subject of the first of the succeeding Tales is sufficiently hack- neyed, and has already been several times beautifully treated. More especially by Mr. Griffin in his admirable tale of " The Col- legians;" by Lord Mulgrave, and by the ele- gant author of the " Tales of a Chaperon." It has been thought however that something was yet left to be done upon this subject ; and that writers in general have fallen into the error of attributing the uneasiness which they describe, rather to a certain ignorance of external forms, and unaptness in merely conventional details, which any girl of sense and spirit would over- VI 11 come in a few months, than to that radical op- position in habits, sentiments, tastes, and feel- ings, which renders domestic happiness so rare- ly attainable, in cases of this kind. Were it of any importance to the reader to be made acquainted with the circumstance, he would beg to add, that late as this story has appeared, it was planned and completed before the appearance of either of the stories last alluded to. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. VOL. I. B " I know The sum of all Consists in the well choosing of a wife ; And this well to discharge, it doth require Equality of years, of birth, of fortune ; For beauty, being poor, and not cried up By birth or wealth, can truly mix with neither ; And wealth, where there's much difference in years, And fair descent, must make the yoke uneasy." Massinger— " New Way to Pay Old Debts" A COUNTRY VICARAGE. CHAPTER I. FRAGMENT OF A LETTER FROM MRS. CARLTON TO MRS. DIGBY. I flatter myself, indeed, mv dear friend, that you do me justice, and appreciate the desire I have ever experienced to encourage merit — and, above all, modest merit — whenever it falls under my observation. Now this really is a remarkably sweet and beautiful girl ; and when I saw her with you, I felt an irresistible desire to produce her. There is something quite painful to my feel- b 2 4 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. ings in the idea of so much elegance and beauty being condemned for life to the seclusion of an odious parsonage — neither carriage, table, nor so- ciety ! — for I understand that poor Mr. Melville is wretchedly straitened in his circumstances, and wants the very indispensables of existence. I thought his daughter had a singularly aristo- cratic air — to be sure they are of a good family ; but I consider it as a proof of the delicacy of her taste, and of a native refinement that one loves to see, that she has escaped those thousand little vulgarisms that shock and offend one's taste so much in the non comme ilfaut. There is certainly nothing about Louisa Evelyn that one can be afraid to produce, even in the very best company ; so I shall really be extremely glad if you will give her a corner of your carriage; and I write by this post to Mr. Evelyn, and shall send a very pressing invitation to his daughter to come to Danger- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 5 field during the races ; and, indeed, to pass as much time afterwards with us as she can. The race ball is on the 20th of March, for, as you know, we are resolved to try the experi- ment cf anticipating the London season ; and on the 19th I hope to see you and your fair companion. And should it be my happy fate to prove the means of affording her the oppor- tunity of entering those certain circles, which, indeed, nature seems expressly to have formed her to adorn — in short, if any of my young lords . . . But I will say no more — you kno^v what my heart would feel upon the occasion — , except that I am, My dear Helen, Your ever affectionate friend, Margaret Carlton. 6 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. MRS. DIGBY TO MRS. CARLTON. My dear Mrs. Carlton, For the first part of your invitation — namely, that which regards myself — I am very sorry to say that it will not be in my power to accept it. Mr. Digby's mother has set her heart upon assembling all her family around her, to keep her eightieth birthday, which falls pre- cisely upon the very 20th that I should have been with you. She knew nothing of my plans, and I did not like to disappoint her, so left her in happy ignorance, and must go. This, however, has nothing to do with the second part of your invitation — that to Louisa Evelyn ; for, as I shall pass very near you in going to Northamp- tonshire, I can give her a place in my carriage ; and, as you have already written to Mr. Eve- lyn, I will most certainly bring her, provided she accepts. She certainly is a very beautiful, a very good, A COUNTRY VICARAGE. and a very well-mannered girl, and such a merry little grig withal — in spite of Mr. Eve- lyn's grievous privations — that I think she can- not do better than remain as she is, whatever your young lords may say to it. I have a notion that all without the boun- dary of the certain circles is not so triste, and so vulgar, and so horrid, as we are apt to sup- pose it. At least, as I often find that within, which is wearisome enough, I doubt whether those young ladies do the wisest thing in the world, who sacrifice every old habit, and sever themselves from every old connexion, for the ilege supreme of stepping within a magic ring, where they are never very welcome, and seldom very happy. &c. &c. .MR. EVELYN TO MRS. CARLTON. I thank you sincerely, my dear Madam, for your obliging attention to my little Louisa, 8 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. and accept your invitation for her with extreme pleasure. Though scenes of gaiety, like those to which you would kindly introduce her, are little suited to the daughter of my fortunes ; yet I feel per- suaded that it is unwise to debar a young crea- ture from them entirely. It is good to see and to judge for ourselves — and when my little girl sits down contented with that obscurity which is her most probable destiny, I would wish such virtue to be the result, rather of deliberate choice and preference than of mere ignorance. Mrs. Digby has very kindly written, and proposed to carry my little girl to Dangerfield, where she will be happy to wait upon you upon the 19th of this month, as you so obligingly propose. I am, Madam, &c. &c A COUNTRY VICARAGE. CHAPTER II. It was a fine evening, for the glass door of the vicar's little parlour was unclosed. It opened upon the green sward of a small garden, gaudy with all those old-fashioned flowers, which, to the de- light of the lovers of gone-by times, and gone- by ways, may still be found flaunting it round some ar< liquated hall, or remote country parsonage. There were huge bunches of yellow daffodils, glittering like gold in the sun ; white and purple crocuses, polyanthuses, primroses, ragged-robins, wall-flowers, flaunting red and yellow tulips, crown imperials, and periwinkles. — Blue and pink hepaticas shed their leaves upon the walks, b 3 10 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. which were edged with rows of London-pride and white and crimson double daisies. The collection, though net very elegant, was, it must be confessed, excessively gay ; and the broad distinct colour flung by all these base- born children of Flora against the glare of a bright sun produced a very striking effect ; con- trasted, as it was in summer, by the deep green of the thick shrubbery which surrounded the garden on all sides except one. Here, the ra- pidly-descending slope was terminated by a small wooded glen, and afforded the view of a wide and fertile plain, gay with a varied land- scape of wood and field, castle, church, and cottage, moor and mountain — mingling, in plea- sant confusion, under that golden flood of light which pours from the sun, half veiled by clouds, one hour before he sets. Within the little parlour, the unadorned walls and simple furniture of which were recom- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 1 1 mended by no beauty, save that of excessive neatness, sat Mr. Evelyn himself, in his wicker arm-chair, for to the luxury of more modern accommodations his scanty purse was inade- quate, gazing placidly upon a group of innocent and happy beings, who were hanging, rather than sitting, upon the few steps which fell from the door to the grass. It consisted of Louisa — her hair, in all its natural profusion of shining ringlets, falling round her face — and three little children, from two to six years old, whose flushed faces and dirty little hands bore but too ' undoubted evidence of the gardening at which they had all been busy. They were all in high spirits, and making a terrible noise. " Charles," said the Vicar, " look here !" And Charles, rising from a small table in the corner of the room, where he had been em- ployed in reading, approached Mr. Evelyn. " That is a pretty picture," said the Vicar, again. 12 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. The eyes of the young man beamed with the softest sensibility. " She is certainly an exquisite beauty," pur- sued the father, and he sighed — ■ " Perfectly beautiful !" said his friend. " And it is impossible to reflect upon such gifts so bestowed, without great anxiety," con- tinued Mr. Evelyn. "Will she — Can she — when aware of their value, as she infallibly must become — can she be content ? Will she be sa- tisfied — to find that the treasure of her beauty has purchased for her nothing better than — than — in short — than a lot like her sister's? — Namely, to share the narrow circumstances of an obscure, though most worthy, individual — a hard-working professional man, in a small country town ; — a lot like Mary's in short. Doubtless, a lot that has its usefulness, and its happiness ; and perhaps no parent can justly desire more. But such a creature ! such gifts ! such charms ! — one must, one does inevitably, desire — nay, require A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 13 something better, and find it difficult to avoid repining when that better is denied. Even she herself — gay, simple, and thoughtless, as she is now — the time must come, and will speedily come, when she will be made aware of the vast differences in things ; and sigh over occa- sions lost for ever, and beauty and talents, alas ! vainly given. Shall her life, then, pass in regrets, and a struggle to be easy in an- obscure situation, when nature has so richly en- dowed her to adorn and to enjoy the highest ? Shall she be less happy than Mary, because so infinitely her superior ? Shall her life be one ot secret repinings, while Mary's is one of unaffected contentment? — Or have I done right in accepting this for her ?" and he handed Mrs. Carlton's letter to Charles, who had listened patiently, though not with a very assenting countenance, to this lengthy soliloquy, rather than address. 14 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. " I suppose, right" — said the young man, hav- ing read and returned the letter, " and it is plain what the consequence ought to be." Then, run- ning hastily down the steps, he caught one of the little children in his arms, and started away with it round the garden, pursued by Louisa and the others, in a hubbub of the wildest gaiety. They came, all laughing and breathless, into the house. " Come hither, Louisa," said her father. She was by his side in an instant, hanging upon his arm, lifting up her beautiful, smiling eyes to his face. " Well, papa, what is it ? Make haste, dear papa. (Be quiet, you little torments ! I am coming again directly ; will you pull my frock all to pieces ?) Well, dear papa? " " Read this letter. Should you like to go?" «Yes — no — I think I should — I think I should not. Do you wish me to go ?" A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 15 " I think— yes !" " But" — and the gay smile faded into a look of anxiety — " they are such a grand set ; and I know none of them." And " what must I put on I " she should have added ; for Louisa was no heroine, and the pleasure of a first introduction to scenes of gaiety and splendour was sadly damped at the very suggestion, as it most often is to timid, susceptible, young things, in her cir- cumstances, by a sense of inferiority, ignorance, unaptness in a thousand trifling details of ways and manners, and most of all by that appalling question, to seventeen — "What must I put on?" She had, however, spirit enough to des- pise herself for what she considered a very un- worthy sense of false shame ; and after reflecting a moment or two, as sagely as she could, while the children were calling loudly upon her to join them, she expressed her readiness to con- sent to her father's wishes; then, leaving to 16 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. to-morrow its proper cares, away she flew to her young companions, delighting, as was her wont, her father and his friend, by her lively sallies, and light-hearted ringing laughter. The children with whom Louisa was at play belonged to her sister Mary — that Mary of whom her father had spoken, it may be thought, some- what disparagingly. Nature, it is certain, had been far less profuse in her gifts to the elder than to the lovely younger sister. Mary was of that me- dium size which neither possesses the dignity of height, nor the delicate, and, to some, more attractive, beauty of diminutive fairy forms. Her complexion was pale and colourless ; her eyes expressed little but a gentle kindness ; her manners were simple and unadorned ; her spirits quietly cheerful ; her understanding plain and straight-forward ; her talents none. She had married, as Mr. Evelyn had said, obscurely enough — the hard-fagging surgeon of A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 17 a small neighbouring town ; and her days were passed in a simple routine of domestic occupa- tions and artless amusements. But her husband, Mr. Phillips, was a sensible, intelligent, excel- lent man, who brought a very ample share of intellectual and agreeable conversation to his own fire-side — to say nothing of the charm of the pleasantest manners and the most benevolent habits in the world ; and Mary, gifted with an honest, affectionate heart, and blest with an utter exemption from vanity, ambition, and fastidious refinement, lived perfectly happy and contented among those she so tenderly loved ; fulfilling her round of domestic duties, and reap- ing her reward of domestic enjoyments — wholly ignorant of the sad facts that her shoes were not remarkably well made, her bonnet of some- what antique fashion — in short, that there were thousands in the world richer, finer, more po- lished, and more well-dressed than herself. 18 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. Louisa and Mary were united by feelings of the warmest affection. The good and gentle eldest sister had watched, with a mother's plea- sure, the unfolding of all those innumerable charms that adorned the younger. Her heart was unstained by the slightest approach to that base and villainous envy, with which the hostile elder sometimes regards the lovely, blooming competitor for a share in her place and emi- nence. She was proud of her sister's loveliness, and she yielded, as to a sort of superiority, to that indefinable air of delicacy, elegance, and high blood, which distinguished this charming girl. Even the undisguised partiality of Mr. Eve- lyn for this fair creature, who ministered in his retirement to that taste for elegance and refinement of which he was sadly too much the slave, failed to awaken one adverse sentiment in Mary's bosom. She neither wondered at, A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 19 nor secretly blamed a pride, which, in truth, she shared ; and, with a rare disinterestedness, sympathised in the admiration which threw her- self and her simple charms into the shade. In recompence, she was loved, as such tempers are, and deserve to be loved, and by none more than by Louisa, who had sense and feeling- enough to discern and to value her innumer- able good qualities, and who returned her par- tiality with the sincerest attachment. Whenever they were together, and that was perpetually, it was Louisa's delight to share Mary's busy labours of love ; and most especially to play the part of governess and head nurse, to her very pretty and lively children, neither of which places were sinecures, each entailing a ijood deal of actual trouble and exertion. Both Mr. Evelyn and Mr. Phillips were almost what might be called poor — the one as a scantily-endowed clergyman, though the son of '20 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. a country gentleman ; the other as having his entire fortune to make, and a young family, as the phrase is, to provide for. Mary and Louisa, therefore, were but scantily furnished with the means of being very much plagued and very much waited upon — so that, unlike most young gentlewomen, instead of flirting, lounging, writing poetry, twanging the harp, and learning Latin, they were obliged to put the children to bed with their own hands ; to wait entirely upon themselves; and to be, in general, very busy, and very merry all the day long. Glowing with health and exercise, Louisa now came laughing in, and after the kisses, blessings, and usual ceremonies of " good night" had been accomplished, she took the little ones up stairs to her own pretty little room ; a snug little chamber, rendered cool in summer and warm in winter by the thick thatch which roofed and overhung it, and of which the diamond- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 21 paned window was covered over with roses and jessamines; there, was her own simple bed and the cribs of two of the little ones, a small green dressing table, a glass about six inches square, two chairs, a few shelves, a huge old-fashioned porcelain jug, full of flowers, &c. &c. Whatever else was spared, there was plenty of soap and water, and the little ones, being first well bathed, with cheeks like rosy apples, re- peated their humble and innocent prayers, and were consigned to their snowy pillows ; while Molly, (except a girl,) the only domestic of the house, prepared the frugal supper meal. Supper ! that happy light-hearted reunion of those who have been employed all day, which the late dinner of modern times has superseded — Supper ! that gay, thoughtless, chatty meal, which, for our sins, we shall see no more. The frugal table was soon spread : a roasted fowl, with fruit, salads, and cream, and an 22 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. excellent homely apple pie, constituted the fare provided by Molly. We are free to confess that the dishes were plain earthenware, and of anti- quated shapes enough ; for it is incredible the number of years that Molly's care had pre- served them to adorn the shelves of Mr. Eve- lyn's kitchen ; but, then, everything was so neat, and so sweet, and so nice, and so good, that the greatest epicure in the world would have found it difficult to resist what was put upon the table. The cheerfulness and good humour of the company did credit to Molly's entertainment. Perhaps they laughed somewhat too loud, but their wit was as good as what may be found in better company. There was neither grossness, rudeness, nor vulgarity; for there was neither ill-breeding, ill-temper, nor ill-morals. Louisa was, as usual, the sparkler of the groupe, — all whim and spirits, delighting to make her father A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 23 laugh, and to torment the stoic Charles, who received her provocations with a sly gravity,' — now repressing her when she went too far ; now awakening her by his playful sarcasms, while he regarded her at the same time with looks, not always consistent, it must be owned, with his character of a philosopher. It was evident, nevertheless, that she held him a little more in awe than she did her father, all polished and gentlemanlike as Mr. Evelyn was. The evening ended with music, when Louisa, at the desire of Charles, sang; the following little song : — LOVE VINDICATED. Love from the palace flies, 'Mid humble roofs to dwell ; Within the secret cell Of the fond heart, which hath no other prize, He lies. He hates ambition's storms, Luxurious pride he scorns, 24 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. The purple hangings may not be his bower ; For love is as a flower — Though sunny smiles give birth, And summon him from earth ; Yet is he reared to strength, by sorrow's shower. Oh ! those malign who say, When poverty makes way, That he, the beauteous god, alarm'd, retires ; No — for the boy is brave, And o'er affliction's wave, He lights the beacon of his heavenly fires. When all is lost beside, They who in him confide, Faithful and loyal to their bosom's lord ; Shall find a shelter there, From sorrow, want, and care, — Shall find — the emp e of the world restored. Soft were the slumbers which ended the inno- cent day, — when Louisa, literally, beautiful as an angel, closed her beaming eyes— and the sound of her mirthful voice, at length, was still. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. '25 Yes ! let the rich deride, the proud disdain ; These simple blessings of the lowly train, To me, more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art ; Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play, The soul adopts, and owns her first-born sway ; Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind, Unenvied, unmolested, unconfined. But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade, With all the freaks of wanton wealth array'd, In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain, The toiling pleasure sickens into pain ; And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy, The heart distrusting asks, if this be joy. Goldsmith. vol. I. '26 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. CHAPTER III. "And so, Louisa, you are going to these races," said Charles, lifting his head from a huge dark folio which lay upon his table, in one corner of the Vicar's parlour, as Louisa, the ball dress for the evening of display hanging upon her arm, entered the room. " And what do you intend to do among all these fine people ?" " I intend to be as happy as I can — Mrs. Digby is exceedingly kind to me always ; and Mrs. Carlton is very good-natured to ask me — But I hate to leave you in rusty black, poring over these musty folios, and making all those A COUNTRY VICARAGE. '27 dreadful rounds, squares, and triangles — those necromancing hideous figures, for hours together, whilst I am befluttering myself, like any butter- fly, all silks and satins. Your dolorous figure will quite haunt me !" " Dear Louisa ! Pray let it haunt you as iiich as it possibly can — but you need not pity me. These musty folios ; these necromancing squares, rounds, and triangles, will do very well for me, — much better than a ball. I never remember being at a ball in my life where I was in the least happy," said the student. " Oh, fie ! Not even when you danced with mi*" " Not even when I danced with you — Be satisfied that you made me dance at all. No one else could." And he resumed his studies, somewhat dis- turbed by the various movements of his fair companion. c 2 28 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. First, the dress was laid upon the little settee, and submitted to sundry stitchings and alter- ings ; then an old cabinet was introduced ; and beads, bugles, and Birmingham chains, with sundry articles of old-fashioned finery, were spread out upon the table. " It will never do, Louisa," — said Charles. " What will never do?" said she, looking up, a little vexed. She was out of humour at the paltry exhibition before her. " You will never make your dress appear more splendid than your condition ; unless you condescend to use means less justifiable, than the arrangement of all that old trumpery." " I don't want to make my dress appear more splendid than my condition." " But you want to pass off your gewgaws for more than they are worth — do you think any one at this grand race ball will honour, as finery, all this old rubbish, unless you can impose it A COUNTRY VICARAGE. '29 upon them for something very different to what it really is ? — It will never do, I tell you. You must ask your father for more money, if you cannot be happy without a necklace." " I should be sorry to do that," said she, gravely, " for I know he can ill afford the s:pense I have been at already. Miss Green's bill will be large, after all ; but everybody will be so much dressed — bracelets, chains, orna- ments — they make them so splendidly now, you can have no idea. Mr. Benn shewed me his things from London. I am afraid I shall look most remarkably mean. — These chains I thought might be cut . . ." " Nonsense, Louisa ! they will only look shabby and ridiculous. Mean no one can look, except by their own fault. You are too pretty," added he, smiling, " to escape being remarkable — As for your dress, simplicity, in my eyes, is always elegance. But if you must be fine, I advise you to embarrass your father." 30 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. "And that I never will do," said she. " But I am afraid I shall be quite a figure." And, with a sigh, and a look of anxiety, that somewhat wounded the honest pride of her friend, she disappeared with the cabinet of trea- sures in question. The days which elapsed, till the arrival of the eventful 19th, were spent much in the same un- satisfactory manner, striving to do that which never yet was done — to reconcile a conscientious frugality with the vague aspirations of vanity. At length the 19th arrived. Mrs. Digby's carriage drove to the door. Loud rung the Vicar's hall- bell — loud barked Chloe — Molly hurried from her kitchen — the glass-door was flung open, and Mrs. Digby was ushered into the parlour. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 31 Charles was alone. The labours of the toilette still occupied Louisa. He rose, with his usual unaffected good manners, to do the honours to the lady, who, indeed, was no stranger at the vicarage, and whose good sense, kind temper, and fine breeding, rendered her an object of espect and affection wherever she went. After a few apologies, on his part, for the delay in Louisa's appearance, they both sat down, and waited till the young lady should obey the summons which Charles had immediately despatched. A quarter of an hour, or more, however, elapsed before she came down. She entered the room, looking fluttered and nervous ; her careless ease, her natural grace, and the lively brightness of every look and gesture, somewhat impaired by the exchange of her straw hat for a silk bonnet, in Miss Green's best taste, which, we need not say, was the worst possible ; and of her simple white frock for a somewhat 32 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. tawdry silk pelisse, more suited, as Miss Green thought, to the dignity of the occasion. Her natural taste, which, in the dearth of artists incidental to a small town, wanted oppor- tunity for exercising its powers of selection, serving now only to distress her, by giving her a full sense of what was vulgar and incongruous in her attire. Little versed in those arts of the needle by which more ingenious young ladies supply the deficiencies of scanty purses; and yet too shy and too new to abide by the graceful simplicity recommended by her friend Charles, she had lain completely at Miss Green's mercy, who had been most unmerciful ; and, completely dissatis- fied with her appearance, which it was now too late to amend, her sensations were uneasy to a degree of which those cradled in the happy self-complacency of fashion can form no con- ception. " There is a box, Madam," said Mrs. Digby's A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 33 footman, "which Mrs. Carlton's maid desired me to bring for Miss Evelyn, and a note — " Louisa opened it, and passed it to Mrs. Digby. My dear young friend, I am going, I fear, to be very imper- tinent ; but, as I have not perfect confidence in Miss Green's taste in costume, I have taken the liberty to desire Carsan to send you a few things, which I hope you will do me the favour of accepting, as proofs of the regard and warm interest with which I am, Dear Miss Evelyn, ever, most truly yours, Margaret Carltox. Louisa looked vexed. Mrs. Digby confused and uncertain. The student groaned. — " The beginning of humiliations," thought he. c 3 •'34 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. " What should I do, dear Madam ? " said Louisa, looking at Mis. Digby. Mrs. Digby thought, but did not say, "This is always the way with these over busy people ; they force one into situations where one has no choice left but to do just what is most distasteful to one's habits and feelings." " My dear," said she, aloud, after a little hesitation, " I think you have no choice. — It would seem rude to refuse what has been pro- cured, no doubt, with considerable trouble. — I think," continued she, "you must take off that very fine pelisse," (she could hardly help laughing when she looked at it,) "and put on what Miss Green would, doubtless, think, shockingly mean in comparison — I really beg her pardon ; but I must advise you to run up stairs, and try Carsan." Louisa left the room. " You think so, Mr. Lovel ?— " " I think, M*adam, as you do, that she can A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 35 scarcely avoid it — but I think — . . ." and he was rising. " Don't let me disturb you, Mr. Lovel, here is my book." And she began to read. While the • ".indent resumed his folio — " Insolence of the great ! — impertinent interference ! — unpleasant obligations !" ringing in his head. But when, arrayed in all the light and airy grace which Carsan so well knows how to give to her tasteful draperies, Louisa reappeared, the Mother of Love herself never formed a more charming spectacle. Her soft, gay smiles ! The ease of taste, self-gratified ! The loveliness that hung like a charm around her ! — The student raised his eyes, and sighed. For a moment, he seemed endeavouring again to rivet them upon the page before him — but it would not do ; he shut the book, and pushed back his chair. Mrs. Diffby rose to take leave. 36 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. "I think we must own," said she, smiling,, and looking, with something of a mother's pride and fondness, upon the charming girl who stood before her, "that Carsan understands her art rather better than Miss Green, — eh, Mr. Lovel ?" But Charles did not answer — his eyes were fixed upon Louisa. A mingled feeling of admi- ration and of regret might have been read in their expression. How beautiful she looked in this elegant attire ! How formed — how fitted for that station of which it was the significant costume ! How for, already, removed from the humble sphere which they had occupied to- uether ! cl He felt as if that separation had, in part, begun, which he anticipated as the possible con- sequence of the intended visit. He gulped down a rising sigh, and then came forward to hand the ladies to their car- riage. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 37 Mrs. Digby's landau and four stood ready to receive them ; her footman, elegant and tall, cane in hand, at the door. A moment — they were in. The footman sprang to the box, be- laud — and they were gone. He stood upon the threshold, — his ear catching he distant sound of the rapidly-retreating car- riage — his thoughts painfully absorbed. Those bitter reflections which, sooner or later, all must make, upon nature, circumstance, destiny, and society — succeeding to the cheerful visions of peace and love which had long occupied his fancy, almost without exciting his attention. .Long, in painful rumination, did he pace the circle of that little garden, pondering upon his expectations, his purposes, his hopes, his fears — his own obscure prospects, the vast claims of Louisa. Uncertainty, hesitation, revolt of the mind against the plan of life which he had adopted, contending within his breast against the generous election which he had made. 38 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. The struggle was severe, the victory com- plete ; and the visions of ambition faded from his fancy. His better thoughts, being assisted, it must be confessed, by reflections on the vanity of contending in the shewy distinctions of life with others who had so greatly the advantage at the outset ; and by the sweet hope, that the creature he might be rather said to worship than to love, so deep and devoted were his feelings, might be won to prefer the refined offer before the dreams of magnificence and pride. We will not say how long it took Charles to beat down all those evil spirits which crowded upon his fancy; but at length he returned quietly to his studies, with pretty nearly his usual cheerfulness ; and he concluded the even- ing by a game at chess with Mr. Evelyn. And who was Charles ? Charles was the son of Mr. Evelyn's oldest friend, one of those ill-paid labourers of a A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 39 wealthy establishment, who, in return for a life of toil and rigid self-denial, reap the scanty remuneration of two hundred and fifty pounds a year — but who look for, and who receive, in re- i pence of their well-principled efforts, that which all the gold on earth is too poor to buy — self-respect, peace of mind, and that hope which fadeth not away. He had died, and left one only son to follow in his footsteps ; to labour in the same vineyard, and strive, as he had done, in the cause of religion and virtue — of a religion, pure and evangelical, neither recommended by canting grimace nor by enthusiastic excitement — of a virtue founded in love, and in all that is generous and disinterested in human nature. Charles had lived long enough with his father to adopt his views and imbibe his principles ; and, intimately persuaded of the truth of revela- tion, and of its vast importance in aiding the pro- 40 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. gress of mankind, he had cheerfully dedicated himself to the great object of opening and main- taining in the minds of men, that communication with, that faith in, and that sense of moral responsibility to a higher nature, which he regarded as the only true means of perfecting his race. He came not to the ministry to serve, as too many serve, with a divided and secular heart — with a narrow, bigoted, uninquiring mind. Persuaded of the vast importance of the duty in which he had engaged, he had spared no pains to understand the true meaning of the revelation that he preached ; nor had he neglected to im- prove every faculty which might render such preaching useful and acceptable to his fellow creatures. In pursuit of this object, he had ac- cepted the offer of Mr. Evelyn, — an elegant man, and an elegant scholar, — to profit by such assistance as his library, (the only thing of value A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 41 which the Vicar possessed.) and his experience, might afford ; and under his roof he was, with this design, at present domesticated ; how much to the peril of his heart may be easily surmised. 4'2 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. CHAPTER IV. In the meantime, Mrs. Digby's carriage had continued to roll forward, and Louisa, divided between Mrs. Digby's agreeable conversation and no small share of anxious speculation upon what should befal her on her first arrival at Dangerfield, thought, we are sorry to say, very much less of Charles in his corner than she had promised to do. She was horror struck on hearing that Mrs. Digby was not able to accept Mrs. Carl- ton's invitation, and half inclined to regret that it had been accepted for herself, when she, A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 43 whom she had regarded as her protector and adviser in this important moment of her life, could not be present. However, she rallied her spirits as well as she might, and endeavoured to dissipate her disagreeable feelings of terror and timidity by looking out upon the trees, and admiring the various landscapes as they shot by. But what young timid girl ever found trees or landscapes effectual to quiet her beating heart, or to clear her choked and husky throat. At length the white stone front of Dangerfield, with its large windows and pillared portico, appeared, sur- rounded by lofty trees, and standing in the centre of a very handsome park, among the glades of which, the deer were feeding, mingling with the cattle and with the trees, in those beautiful groupes which add so much life and ornament to park scenery — the bright sun shining on their velvet hides and branching horns, as they 44 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. tossed their heads, and cantered lightly away from the approaching carriage. Gate after gate opened and clanged to ; at length they stopped at the door of the splendid mansion. It was late, and Mrs. Digby had time merely to alight and introduce Louisa. This she very kindly did, for she understood her young friend perfectly; and fine lady and woman of the world as she was, and for many years had been, she had not forgotten to sympathize with the fantastical terrors of a young un- formed girl. They went into the breakfast-room, but it was quite empty, and looked forlorn enough — all the chairs and tables deserted, and in dis- order ; everybody was gone up to dress. Presently, however, a very elegant young lady, with long ringlets, confined by an airy apology for a cap — a shadowy thing of lace A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 45 and pink ribbon, with an elegant costume, en demi toilette, — her state and circumstance, how- ever, marked by an embroidered apron with pockets, in the true theatrical femme de chambre style, presented herself, and, delivering proper compliments, apologies, and messages from Mrs. Carlton, whom the lateness of the hour had already sent to her dressing-room, begged to have the pleasure of shewing Miss Evelyn to her apartment. Mrs. Digby then hastily took leave, and Louisa was consigned to the care of Mademoiselle. The two young ladies proceeded together, through a vast and splendid hall, and long echoing galleries, to a dressing-room furnished with all those luxuries with which modern taste and modern nonsense combine to adorn and to obstruct modern apartments. Here the busy French woman was speedily employed in visiting the contents of Louisa's trunk ; and having cast them aside with a look 46 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. of supreme contempt, she produced from the hanging wardrobe an elegant dinner dress, pre- pared by the provident care of Mrs. Carlton. Louisa felt too shy to remonstrate ; and, indeed, the decisive air of the French lady soon shewed that all remonstrance would have been in vain : she submitted, therefore, once more, to the unpleasant obligation ; and with a mingled feeling of embarrassment, humiliation, and grati- fied vanity, saw her beautiful form reflected in the Psyche. The toilette was completed ; the embroidered handkerchief of " woven air," perfumed with Bourgeois and Hueguenin's best and sweetest, (from whose depot in the Haymarket Mrs. Carl- ton uniformly replenished her stores) had just been placed in her hand ; when Mrs. Carlton, in the full dress and glorious embonpoint of handsome, well-preserved, fifty-four, entered the apartment. " Charming ! lovely ! My dearest Miss Eve- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 17 Ivn I am delighted to see you, and looking so well — How is Mr. Evelyn ? And your sister ? Quelle fraicheur ! — quelle grace, Rosalie ! Allow me to say, my dear Miss Evelyn, I am perfectly enchanted — I flattered myself that you would be an acquisition to any party — But, indeed ! c'est la veritable Cendrillon, ?i'est ce pas, Rosalie ?" turning to the maid. "Mademoiselle est vraiment charmante f tour- nure parfaite ! air distingue ! " &c, &c, fell in flattery's gentlest dew from Rosalie's lips. While Louisa, depressed and mortified by such incense, hung her lovely head, the very picture of suffering sensibility. " Come, my love ! take my arm," said Mrs. Carlton, much elated by the idea of the beauty she was about to produce in her drawing-room. And Louisa, blushing and trembling, the de- licacy and softness of her appearance enhanced by the decided and somewhat masculine air of her companion, was ushered into a saloon, 48 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. splendidly lighted, and filled with a brilliant crowd of elegantly-dressed men and women, engaged in the usual manner of such assemblies before dinner. There was the regular party which ought invariably to be collected in all fashionable country houses, upon these occasions. There was the Duke and the Duchess, who are always everything that is most exemplary and ami- able — he, is usually a great agriculturist ; she, an embroiderer of flower-pots and Albanians ; they are apt to be a little dull. There was the Sir Harry, — a great fox hunter. There was the Mr. Crawford, — a man of conversa- tion and gastronomy about town ; very witty, and vei-y terrible. Two or three Lady Marys and Lady Selinas, — amiable, unaffected, accom- plished girls ; characters such as our modern system of education is so admirably calculated to produce. And there was the usual scheming mother, A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 49 and her vicious trio of portionless handsome daughters ; those perennial victims to the moral of our most moral stories — those unhappy ex- amples of young ladies, without fortune and without connexion, who dare to commit the .-inous and ever-recurring crime of setting caps ; iich they never wear) at rich and handsome young men of fashion, — poaching, as it were, upon the peculiar preserves of the Ladies Marys and Selinas. These, with the usual allowance of colonels in the guards, and well-dressed young men of straw, composed a party, the description of which will satisfy; we trust, the anxious reader, that the author of the pages he honours by holding in his hand, however deficient in other respects, may, in this most truly important particular, be im- plicitly depended upon. When represented in this careless, off-hand manner, there seems nothing very awful in one vol. I. d 50 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. of these grand assemblies ; but to a country girl, educated to respect dignities as she ought to do, the blaze of light as the door opened — the elegant, and particularly well-dressed groups that were scattered about the room — the very size and splendour of the room itself, were all appalling ; and overwhelmed her with that unac- countable terror called shyness, which drives one almost distraught — and compared to which the meeting with a lion in the desert, "pro- vided one had a sword," were nothing. She blushed, and hesitated — and, had it not been for the very substantial arm of Mrs. Carl- ton, might have found difficulty in getting along. That lady, however, fully sensible of the value of what she had to produce, led her exultingly forward, encouraging her by her flattery and her smiles ; and was rewarded for her good na- ture, and the prudence of her application to Carsan, by seeing the eyes of the whole assem- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 51 bly fixed in admiration upon her remarkably beautiful protegee. The colonels, and the young men of all de- scriptions, not excepting the witty Mr. Craw- i.-rd himself, were attracted ; and the whisper of Who on earth can she be ?" " Where can she spring from?" ran round the room. Mrs. Carlton, excessively delighted, made her way to her own particular sofa, carrying her favourite with her. " My dear Louisa, as Mr. Evelyn has so kindly confided you to my care, let me regard you, whilst I have the pleasure of keeping you here, as my daughter. You will always find your place near me" — and she seated Louisa by her side, as she took her place in her own accus- tomed corner, where she was speedily sur- rounded by young men. " A very fine creature, upon my word," said d 2 52 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. my Lord Duke. " Do you know where she came from ?" Sir Henry stretched his legs, and yawned — Sir Harry is always a vulgar sort of fox-hunting person. " Upon my soul, I have no idea — yet, stay, I think she is Parson Evelvn's daughter — I once rode in there to get luncheon, after a fox-chase, and, egad, very near rode over this very pretty girl — I remember she had got on a sort of blue pinafore, and a torn bonnet, and such a pair of boots ! — However, luckily, no mischief was done ; I reined up in time — though I did think she was nothing but the turkey girl ; for I remember she had a blue pinafore on, a torn bonnet, and such a pair of boots !" My Lord Duke inquired no further. One or two Lady Marys, who happened to be within hearing, looked, I am sorry to say, A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 53 rather ill-naturedly pleased at this description. They were very high-bred, elegant, aristocratic girls ; and they cherished a very proper antipa- thy against low-born, vulgar beauties, especially it" they chanced to be slender, and presumed to have small feet. So they put about this story of P ison Evelyn's daughter and the blue pina- fore, and, sad to say, the value of Mrs. Carlton's pet lion was very considerably diminished, even before dinner was announced. Now, as every novel, French and English, teaches us, and, it is to be feared, with more truth than lies in most things which they teach us, thai, in this age of ours, beauty, without the prestige of wealth or rank, has almost entirely lost its effect upon the imagination of young men of fashion — nobody will be surprised to hear that Colonel Cadogan, arrived at that age when favoris are dyed, wigs a la rot/ale worn, and to which clings a slight tincture of ancient gal- 54. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. lantry in manner, and of the old-fashioned taste for pretty faces, was the only one of all these fine gentlemen who approached to offer his arm to conduct Miss Evelyn to the dinner table ; the younger gentlemen, after a recognisance or two, returning to their conversations with the Lady Marys and Selinas, or amusing themselves by nibbling at the baits hung out by the insi- dious Miss Hammersmiths. What a dinner ! — what a profusion of plate, and glass, and china ! — what soups ! — what fish ! — what delicacies ! — what metamorphoses ! Mrs. Carlton's French cook was a celebi'ated artist, who drove his cabriolet, and went to fancy balls — an artist worthy of the refined palates, and recondite knowledge of the subject, to which he ministered. How fine were the wines ! — how faultless the cotelettes /—how the gentlemen eat and drank ! — and how the ladies sipped and flirted ! — how powdered footmen, in richly-laced A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 55 dresses, glanced from chair to chair, with the silence, celerity, and grace of so many sylphs in livery, it is useless to relate. Elaborate dinners have become, in this rich country of ours, such mere every-day affairs that, though they never will cease to be tiresome, they have long ceased to be remarkable ; and there is nothing worth noting at this, but the strange feelings of discomfort with which so much splendour inspired our country girl. Daz- zled with excess of light she certainly was — she felt as if she hardly knew where to look, or what to say ! The conversation, light and pithy, composed of those airy nothings that float upon the sur- face of polished society, and which are there tossed about with a grace so peculiar, were to her perfectly and utterly uninteresting. There was no conversation that could properly be called conversation ; and not a single subject was dis- 56 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. cussed that could interest any human creature not belonging to that particular set. The mind of Louisa was cultivated, her taste deli- cate, her imagination of that poetic cast which approaches to genius — her sensibility for ex- cellence, and for beauty exquisite — but in pro- portion to her gifts, so was her present spiritless ennui. To her, the witty gossip, the hints, the allusions, were utterly unintelligible ; she was in the habit of discoursing on matters of more general and lasting interest — a habit now laid under the ban of the whole world of fashion ; and she found it impossible to take any part in what was going on. She was out of place, dull, and uneasy — nor can we wonder that Colonel Cadogan soon turned from the rural beauty to the brilliant Lady Mary, though Lady Mary had not a tolerable feature in her face. Thus, to Louisa's other reasons for being very uncomfortable, was added that desolate and A COUNTRY VICARAGE. O/ awkward sensation of being remarkably silent, and visibly left out, when all the world is talking and laughing, admiring one another, and en- joying themselves. Tne evening passed in music, chat, flirting, ringing, and cards. — Every one was very gay, t affected to be so. Every one took care of themselves, and no one took care of his neigh- bour. Was any one dull and sulky, he was at liberty to enjoy his dulness — were any merry, to display their smiles; of this last class were all the young ladies, without exception. Happy beings ! How can any one for an instant doubt but that creatures so complete, so amiable in their appearance, are exempt from human sorrow, anxiety, or infirmity, and are always the same sweet, smiling, amiable, enchanting divinities that they invariably appear in public ! It was nearly two o'clock before the evening was fairly over, and before Louisa, thoroughly d3 58 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. wearied with the effort to rally her treacherous spirits, was allowed to go to her room, where, heated with unaccustomed hours, and languid with unaccustomed exertions, she closed at length in sleep the first day of her triumphs. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 59 CHAPTER V. The second day opened upon a different scene. She awoke to throw open her window, arid inhale, with the greatest delight, the sweets of an early, dewy morning. Nature was breathing, in all her purity, through groves and over lawns, and upon the wide expanse of water which stretched beneath her view ! The fresh breeze lifted hur locks as she gazed, while her thoughts flew back to her own home — to her father, Mary, the children, Charles ! — and she longed for them to share with her in the enjoyment of such a scene. She was soon recalled from her agreeable 60 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. reveries, by the entrance of Mademoiselle Rosalie ; and the cares of dress speedily dis- persed her happy reflections. Finished, at length, to the satisfaction of the French lady, whose wearisome details she thought would never come to an end, she went down to the breakfast room ; to renew the dis- agreeable sensations of the evening — to feel lost, dull, dispirited, and a stranger, where every one else was happy and at ease — and to long for home. Then came the morning lounge through Mrs. Carlton's splendid gardens, pheasantries, and conservatories ; where Louisa silently fol- lowed a crowd of men and women, all merrily engaged, chatting, rallying, laughing, and making jokes upon every object that presented itself. It was the first race-day ; and in due time the course succeeded. But here it was worse and worse : the noise — the heat — the variety of A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 61 forms under which human vice and folly there strike the eyes of a stranger to such scenes, shocked her nerves and distressed her feelings ; the hurry — the gaiety, forced or natural, around i , found nothing responsive in her heart. " Hew unfit," thought she, " for such things •Hi I ! and why did my dear father send me here ? Was I not a thousand thousand times happier at home ? What noise ! — what bustle ! — what senseless nothings ! Ah, Charles ! how unlike our gay and happy days !" The experiment of Mr. Evelyn seemed in a fair way of succeeding. l he day was concluded by the ball. We may rest assured that no pains had been spared, either by Mrs. Carlton or by Rosalie, to adorn Louisa for this most important occasion. Once more the magnificent dress prepared by Miss Green, with its huge bows of ribbon and furbelows of pink satin, was contemptuously 62 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. thrown aside. Once more was Louisa under the necessity of submitting to that painful sense of obligation, with which we receive benefits from any hands but of those whom we tenderly love. But remonstrance was, as usual, useless ; and had it not — what girl of seventeen but would have found it difficult to resist the elegant and simple white gauze which Carsan had sent for the occasion ? Her beautiful hair, arranged with Rosalie's best skill — Rosalie, who, like the inimitable Rousseau, demonstrated the perfection of art by the extreme of its apparent simplicity — flowers of softest hue and sweetest odour, from Mrs. Carlton's conservatory, on her bosom — and delicacy, softness, and sensibility speaking in every line of her beautiful countenance — it may be doubted whether a more charming creature ever entered an assembly of the kind. Accustomed, as most of the company had A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 63 been, to a sight of the rarest beauties that the island can boast, every one was perfectly amazed : and the murmurs of applause which succeeded her entrance, convinced her patroness at once ■ >f her success. Mrs. Carlton was really a very good-natured ..man. — It is true she had quite a passion for assembling lions, which she called patronising merit ; but she felt a very genuine pleasure when the merit which she so brought forward succeeded. She was unaffectedly pleased at the admiration which her young friend excited, and walked smiling up the room, — that crowning success of woman-kind, a brilliant marriage, dancing in gay perspective before her imagina- tion. The hand of Louisa, as far as dancing went, was, it is certain, warmly solicited and disputed — and flattery was lavished at her feet in a way which she felt, and felt justly, to be rather an 64 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. humiliation. Had her rank in society been less equivocal, she would have probably found her admirers more reserved in their expressions of admiration. A certain surprise to find one so elegant and charming derived from a sphere they were accustomed to regard with contempt, mingled with the firm persuasion that admira- tion in any form from them must, of course, be acceptable to her — might be detected in their manner ; and Louisa, without accounting for it to herself, had the feeling and good sense to dis- like all this. Besides, her heart was an absolute stranger to mere personal vanity. Simple admiration, apart from sentiment, interested her not. She was formed for earnest devotion, not for tran- sient and varying conquests — for love — not for coquetry. " Lord William Melville solicits an intro- duction to Miss Evelyn," said Mrs. Carl- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 65 ton, with an air of excessive satisfaction, and a gentleman was seen to advance, on whom the eyes of half the young ladies in the room were instantly fixed. And why ? — He was neither remarkably handsome, nor remarkably ™ r ell-shaped, nor remarkably tall, nor re mark - ly the -reverse of any of these things. He was only distinguished by the simplicity of his extreme elegance, and by the total absence of that dandied, unnatural, constrained air and manner which, in some degree or other, infects most of our young men of fashion. He addressed Louisa with the most easy politeness, danced idly and without effort — and, when the dance was over, he continued to sit bv her ; and engaged her in conversation, not on those fashionable themes to which she was totally inadequate, but on subjects of general interest, which her talents and natural good taste calcu- lated her to discuss as well as any one; only 66 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. marking his admiration, as he did so, by an ex- pression of the eye, as it rested upon her, the meaning, however, of which could not easily be mistaken — and which Louisa, like most women in such circumstances, seemed, by some natural instinct, to feel, rather than exactly to see. She thought that he seemed to sympathize with, as well as to admire her, and was speedily attracted by that charm, all-powerful to a feel- ing character, of being understood. There was something, too, so gently protect- ing in the manner with which he just assumed, that she had danced more than enough ; and ought to take no farther part in the various quadrilles, waltzes, gallopades, and mazourkas, that were going on. The solitude of the crowd was at once dis- pelled, — and when the evening concluded, Louisa — the unpractised Louisa, — when she placed her hand upon his arm, after he had A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 67 folded her shawl, with more than ordinary care around her, in her simplicity believed that she had actually found a friend. Miss Evelyn went to bed that night with i] -: agreeable feelings. She began to think •" »od company, crowded race balls, and charming 1 1-dresses, very pleasant things ; and that there was something peculiarly engaging in the ele- gant nonchalance of men of fashion. She slept sweetly : and Eve herself, upon the first morning that she ever knew, presented not a more heavenly countenance of peace and tender feeling, than did this innocent young creature, as she rose from her pillow on the following day, — the sweet hope whispering at her heart that the enchanter of the evening would appear again. The officious cares of Rosalie were now no longer impatiently, and somewhat ungratefully, received. Thrice and again the Psyche was 68 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. consulted ; for even though she had not an ex- pectation of seeing Lord William, who did not make one of the party at Dangerfield ; yet so simple and innocent was she, in this the dawn of her first love, that the mere hope that could he see her he would find her charming, was sufficient to stimulate her interest in those mi- nute details which she had hitherto found so insufferably irksome. He was not present at breakfast ; yet his in- fluence might be said still to hover over, and, in a manner, to protect and animate Louisa. His attentions, and evident admiration, had served to raise her, not only in her own esteem, but in that of the whole assembled society ; composed, for the chief part, of those modest characters, who rarely presume to form an opinion of their own ; and who are guided in all things, small and great, either by the unquestionable prece- dents of fashion — or by the authority of those A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 69 few daring characters, who, like Lord William, venture to have an opinion of their own — so far, at least, as regards what pleases themselves. No longer treated as a pretty, insignificant, country girl, whom nobody knew — this admired of the " admired of all beholders " immediately rook a certain definite place in the world of ton. And she herself, raised in her own opinion, and liberated, as it were, from that depressing weight which bears most heavily upon the most delicate minds, had more spirits, and more dignity ; and appeared for the first time to have the air of really belonging to the company with which she wsu. accidentally associated. She no longer listened with heedless indiffer- ence to the arrangements for the day — To make one in Mrs. Carlton's carriage ; for that course which, but a few hours before, she had found so utterlv disagreeable, was now her most anxious desire, and her heart beat fast as she heard the invitation given. 70 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. The course was crowded as on the preceding day, and with an equally mixed multitude. Long lines of showy equipages, of every de- scription, filled with fine ladies ; and crowds of fine gentlemen, upon their fine horses, followed by their dandy grooms on horses still finer — were in- terspersed with spring-carts, full of blowsey, rosy girls, flaunting it in crimson ribbons — black-legs — horse dealers — farmers' sons, in green short coats and top-boots — amazons, on side-saddle or pillion, in coarse blue riding-habits, beaver hats, and rusty black feathers — fair maids, in clean cotton gowns, arm-in-arm with their sweethearts, crossing from time to time between the cords — ragged boys — beggars — tumblers — gipseys — thieves — and pickpockets. The ladies bowed and whispered from the carriages ; the cavaliers sat, hand on the panel of a britzka door, idly lounging on their steeds, and laughing the short thick laugh of affectation — while the loud bawl of ballad-singers, roaring A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 71 out " Cease, rude Boreas," and " Billy Taylor," and the cry of " Names of the horses and colours of the riders !" were mingled with the piercing yells of a persecuted dog — or the drum and shrill Me of a recruiting sergeant, who, parading the course between the acts, was followed by half-a sen country boobies, strutting with six-penny- worth of blue and red ribbon in their hats, exult- ing in the proud consciousness of having just bartered life and liberty for half-a-crown. All these things, which but the day before had shocked and disgusted Louisa's delicate, it may be rather too fastidious, taste, seemed now to her as animated and delightful as they were to the other lively young ladies of the party. The carriage stopped at the entrance to the ladies' stand ; down clattered the steps ; out stepped the ladies. Half-a-dozen young men of fashion were now contending which should 72 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. have the supreme felicity of handing Miss Evelyn up stairs. — Smiling and blushing with pleasure, she entered the apartment, already crowded with the leading families of the county. She cast a hasty glance through the agitated sea of bonnets — pink, white, and blue — nodding feathers, and black and white hats, which was waving restlessly to and fro, as the bearers chatted, laughed, looked out, looked round, and betted gloves, rings, and souvenirs with each other. — She listened impatiently to the quick rustling sound of boot and cane, as the beaux clattered hastily up and down stairs, passing from the ladies to the betting stand, divided between the charms of love and gaming. Her eye glanced hastily upon every fresh arrival : in vain — he was not to be seen. She soon fixed her attention upon the betting stand opposite, endeavouring to penetrate the confused crowd of country louts, gamblers, A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 73 noblemen, and gentlemen who Were too ear- nestly engaged in making up their books; in vain — he was not there. At a very great distance, apart from the - ; seated upon a beautiful horse, attended 3 two grooms in the plainest liveries, but lirably mounted, she saw a gentleman that she thought resembled him; but as he neither approached one stand, nor the other, and very soon rode off the course, she could not feel sure even of this. How the scene changed ! — Merrily flew the merry-go-rounds — the children clapped their hands and screamed for joy; merrily tumbled the pink and blue tumblers; the people ap- plauded aloud. Vainly, for her — The giddy, bustling, motley crowd below — the gay, glitter- ing, fluttering crevd above — the sergeant, drum, fife, and recruits, fluttered, bustled, and paraded, in vain. Her heart was far from the scene. vol- i. e 74 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. Her thoughts were at this moment engaged in the very unpleasing occupation of un- saying all the agreeable things which they had been telling one another, ever since her dance with Lord William — and "even pleasure lost its power to please." She had not sufficient attraction, then, said she to herself, to draw him even for five minutes to the place which every other gentleman on the field seemed to visit in its turn. How miserably had she mistaken the language of the eyes, and the accents of the evening before ! Mortification succeeded to security ; — all her sweet, airy, formless fancies disappeared as by a charm : in their place came wounding self-re- proaches, for what she now called her own ridiculous vanity. — Absurd folly ! — idle fancy ! and so on, were ringing in her head. She ! a poor, insignificant, country girl, to imagine that she could, for one moment, fix the atten- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 75 tion of such a man ! A man of his rank ! A man of his fashion ! Was ever any expectation so perfectly ridiculous ?— It was plain that he had forgotten her already, and he should be forgotten in his turn. But not so fast, you pretty Louisa — perhaps that will prove less easy ■ : n you imagine. It is a most provoking thing, that when a young gentleman runs away with a young lady's heart, without making an adequate return, he most often runs away with a very inconvenient portion of her charms also. Louisa was quite an altered being — not half an hour ago, she had been i blooming, animated, charming creature ; she was now nothing but a languid, jaded, faded young thing, and appeared as wearisome and head-achy herself as the noisy, brutal course once more seemed to be to her. It was the fashion at the races of Neston for the second day's sport to conclude with a e2 76 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. play; and, accordingly, to the shabby little theatre of this shabby little town it was usual for the numbers who frequented the course to crowd ; and there, seated indiscriminately in the ill-arranged boxes, lined with dingy, faded crimson, and dimly lighted by the miserable candles behind, to assist at a representation, such as a company of strolling players usually administers to an indulgent public. At times, however, a star of the first magni- tude would vouchsafe to shine upon the boards ; and, upon this occasion, Miss F * * * K**** had consented to enrich the manager, and to delight the eyes of the people of Neston, by her appearance. Now Miss F* # * £#### waS} perhaps, little aware, of what to the frequenters of Lon- don theatres may appear an incredible fact, that there is no place where a finished actress reaps such a harvest of honest, genuine applause and A COUNTRY VICARAGE. sympathy, as on the boards of an insignificant country playhouse. The minds of the daughters of the smaller country gentry, who form the elite of the audi- ence upon these occasions, are, in fact, usually much better cultivated than is the case with those who fill a similar station in London — and who have no other means of vaiying the impres-, sions received by Regent-street and Hyde Park, except by those drawn from the beach at Dover, or the chain-pier at Brighton ; interspersed, for once in their lives, by a visit to the Continent, which enables them to discourse of Mont Blanc and the Duomo of Milan. Their lives pass in a gentle succession of no- things, just sufficient to keep the spirits in mo- tion, and therefore they rarely find it necessary to seek for higher sources of interest. Whereas, girls who live entirely in the country are, of necessity, thrown much upon themselves for their amusement; and reading, 78 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. writing, gardening, and conversing with those few friends of their own class that they have had an opportunity of acquiring, and to whom they are usually attached in the most affectionate manner, fill up their time in a way that has the happiest effect upon their tempers and imagina- tions — a little tendency to romance being usually . the greatest danger which their characters incur. Their sympathies are peculiarly awake to the poetry either of description or action, and a finished actress will find them perfect wax in her hands. It appears, likewise, that a smaller theatre, and the absence of all that glare and tinsel which seems necessary in the larger ones, adds very sensibly to the effect of these finer strokes of genius ; tends to concentrate the soul in the action, and gives that sentiment of reality — that genuine laugh and cry feeling, which is the most delightful of all excitements to those under its influence. Louisa very seldom went to a play ; but she A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 79 was young enough, tender enough, new enough, to enter into this pleasure with extreme delight. On the scene, as in a glass, she beheld, though =he understood it not, all of which her own ge- p.t-rous and feeling nature was capable ! — she felt its truth — she sympathized in its sentiment — she could herself have been the tender, the devoted one she saw ! And so— lovelier than Juliet — softer than Mrs. Haller — innocent as Perdita — more tender than Ophelia — she sat and listened, eye and ear intent, as the thrilling actress began her part. But before even the first act was over, Miss Y * * * k###* 5 w j tn a n h er witchery, was in danger of being forgotten ; an enchantment far more powerful stole upon her senses — That dangerous romance ! — that seductive poetry of real life ! — that bright vision was unfolded for her ! — visible but for a moment, to be regretted for ever ! 80 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. Lord William, unperceived by her, had entered the box, and, after a few slight courtesies to the party, he began to squeeze between the young ladies, all vying with each other in the winning smiles and gestures with which they crowded together to make way for him, vainly hoping that he would, with his usual charming neg- ligence, sink into the first vacant seat among them. No such thing ! He pushed forward in a way that would have been thought rude enough in a less amiable man, and niched himself close behind Louisa. She heard herself addressed, almost in her ear, by a sweet, deep voice, and in those low, flattering tones which no young girl hears with impunity. The inquiry was one of mere trivial politeness — but the tone ! — it sank into her heart like the most delicious music — it sank, as the human voice sinks but once ! A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 81 It is needless to dwell upon the feelings of a first and innocent love in the presence of its idol, before care, anxiety, and anticipation of conse- quences have marred its sweetness — before the viiianous world has breathed upon this Eden — The soft stir of the spirits ! the faltering voice — the beating heart ! — the sympathy — the confidence ! Suffice it to say, that Louisa was all that the softest young creature could be upon the occa- sion ; and he, his dark, half-melancholy eye ! — his pensive brow ! — his speaking countenance ! Devotion ! fascination ! very floods of tenderness ! seemed almost pouring from those large, deep orbs — while his lip, formed for many a varying expression, now breathed nothing but the fond- est admiration, as, with an ease and confidence — strange, yet most innocent — she turned her sweet face upwards, and made him a sharer in all the thoughts and sentiments drawn forth by the piece. e 3 82 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. It certainly was a singular, and by no means an uninteresting, picture, in the midst of the rattle and gaiety of such a party. But the little theatre was ill lighted, every one pretty much engaged with their own flirtations, and our pair in good measure concealed by Mrs,. Carlton's large hat and feathers on one side, and by the edge of the box upon the other. They felt alone, at least, she did — yet without the shyness which to have been really alone would have occasioned. There was a great hurry of carriages, a great noise of footmen, and swearing of coachmen and all such confusions, when they got out. Lord William still held Louisa's hand as they waited for the carriage to draw up. Now it happened that Mrs. Carlton had a coachman who loved alcohol, and a pair of very A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 83 handsome, high-spirited horses, a conjunction more to be dreaded than that of any two stars in the empyrean. These horses, moreover, had been for some time champing, and pawing, and tes- tify ing their ill humour at every fresh carriage vrhich drove by them, and they now came rear- ing and prancing up. Mrs. Carlton jumped hastily into the carriage, and Miss Evelyn followed ; but, before the door could be shut, the horses taking fright, or rather fret, at the screech of a little ragged urchin who stood near, sprang furiously forward, and dashed down the street, in defiance of the tugging coachman, who, his head being, as usual, confused by his potations, soon fell off the box. There is a general hurrying forwards of ser- vants, linkmen, gentlemen — a general cry, a general rush. But one, seizing a light, dashes forward with an impetuosity which carries him far beyond the rest. He forces his way through £4 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. horses, carriages, men, with a vehemence no- thing can resist, and arrives just as the pole and splinter -bar are crashing, and the car- riage nearly overset, while the horses are rear- ing, foaming, and springing furiously at the ob- stacle which arrests their progress — a wall across a narrow street. Mrs. Carlton is screaming with all her might — the crowd gathering round to assist and to save — Louisa, pale and trembling with terror, but still retaining her senses. The door is forced — she is torn from the carriage — she is in his arms ! — He presses her to his bosom — he clears once more the crowd — once more he dashes aside every obstacle, and, escaping the press, flings, rather than lays, her on the cush- ions of an empty carriage which stood somewhat apart, ejaculating, " Thank Heaven !" There was a silence of a few seconds. The whole appears to Louisa a bewildering dream — A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 85 to Lord William an intoxicating delight. He starts back — he gazes upon her — and again he ejaculates, " Thank Heaven !" " Thank Heaven, indeed !" whispers the ter- d girl. . " But where am I ? — where is Mrs. • .niton ?" ;< Compose yourself one moment, my life ! — Miss Evelyn, I mean. Rest one instant, Louisa, and I will seek her. But you are faint ! — you are ill !" " Oh ! nothing — only one moment," lan- guidly smiling — and she fairly fainted away. His confusion need not be described. He was really frightened, though used to fainting fits ; and perplexed, though he rarely lost his presence of mind. The impropriety of having thrown her into his own carriage now struck him, it must be confessed, for the first time ; and the figure he should make, carrying her quietly up to the 86 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. company in his arms, when the first excitement was over, — the impossibility of leaving her alone, in her present helpless condition, (for no servant had stood with the carriage) — yet the indecorum of remaining much longer without producing his prize, perplexed him excessively. No man hated a scene, or an absurdity, more than Lord William ; and this little perplexity into which Louisa, by her inopportune fainting, had so unceremoniously placed him, might well nigh have concluded the romance, by disenchant- ing the lover, had not the servants appeared — been dispatched to Mrs. Carlton with proper messages — assistance been procured — and Miss Evelyn restored to society. To join Miss Evelyn — to take a seat in Lord William's carriage — to insist upon Lord Wil- liam accompanying them to Dangerfield, fol- lowed, as a matter of cpurse, from Mrs. Carlton. Lord William was cold and inattentive A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 87 enough during the ride home ; and talked only to Mrs. Carlton. When they stopped, he handed her out of the carriage, and conducted her forwards. Louisa was preparing to follow ; she really felt very ill, and she fell rather dian stepped as she was getting out. A foot- n was catching her, as she reeled and stag- gered, when Lord William turned, pushed the man rudely away — caught her on his arm, and carried, rather than led her, into the sa- loon. There he assiduously placed her on a couch by the window, conjuring — commanding her to be still, while he stood watching her with an ex- pression of the greatest anxiety, till the heart once more performed its office — the tingling blood flowed through the veins — and life, and love resumed their throne. Thus was the cup of passion presented to 88 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. Louisa, and drained in one short, delicious, in- toxicating draught. — The poison, more fatal than that of Circe, circulated in her veins ; and fai'e- well gay spirits, unclouded thoughts, careless days, and peaceful nights ! The pathetic excla- mation of Othello, when all his occupations vanished before the master-passion of jealousy, may be echoed in softer notes by woman, when once absorbed by the soul-subduing power of a passionate love. It is the fatal period of her destiny — drawing down the curse which impends over her feeble and devoted race. Guilty or guiltless, success- ful or unfortunate, the difference is smaller than might be imagined. Doomed to adore imperfec- tion — to dote on inconstancy — to rest on frailty — to offer all the treasures of a devotion unparal- leled to indifference, to selfishness— perhaps to scorn ! A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 89 Such is the fate of her, who abandons herself without control to the force, or the feebleness of her heart — flinging herself beneath the feet of rhe idol, which shall destroy her. 90 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. CHAPTER VI. Days, till they amounted to weeks, were passed by Lord William at Dangerfield. They fleeted by Louisa in one uninterrupted succession of delightful sensations; rendered doubly delightful by the character of her lover. Lord William was singularly formed to attach a girl of feeling and imagination, more especially one, whose leading distinction was the extreme softness of her temper. To a highly- cultivated understanding, and spirited, manly character, with manners such as a perfect know- ledge of the world and the highest refinement A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 91 alone can «ive, he united the more seductive gift of a burning imagination — an imagination to which, for the moment, he was himself the slave. Bewitched by the beauty 'and delicacy ;>r Louisa, he became really, for the time, the enraptured being he appeared. His devotion exceeded all reasonable bounds. His admiration, his flattery, were measureless; and, charmed with his delightful conversation ; enchanted and dazzled by his devotion and adoration ; she abandoned herself to the softness — the fatal weakness — of her nature ; yielding without re- sistance to that languid charm, which hung like an atmosphere around her. All exertion, indeed, on her part, was become unnecessary ; and it is true she was little in the humour to make any. But she had only to suffer herself to be admired — everything she did was right. To be the decided favourite of Lord William was distinction enough, and placed her 92 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. at once, and without effort of her own, among the highest grades of fashion. Her lover was the object of universal attention and admiration, distinguished not alone by his personal accomplishments, but by his rank and fortune : for though a second son, he belonged to one of the most noble and ancient families in England ; and his fortune, derived from his mother, was immense. Moreover, he was a leader of ton, and pretty much a leader in politics, and altogether one of the first men of his day. Louisa, as the object of his preference, found herself raised even above envy; caressed, as was natural, to excess, by Mrs. Carlton, and, what seems hardly so natural, flattered by all those young ladies whom her success had left at such an immeasurable distance behind. For though we do not mean to affirm, all amiable as they undoubtedly were, that they A COUNTRY VICARAGE, 93 exactly rejoiced in this extraordinary good for- tune of Parson Evelyn's daughter ; or could see, with indifference, the prize for which they all contended thus snatched away before their - ; yet they recollected that, as Lady William Melville, Louisa must infallibly be mistress of one of the first establishments in town — and that probably her balls and parties would be most especially worth going to. So they flattered and fondled, and dear-loved her, all day long ; every one anxious to seize the opportunity for laying the foundation of future intimacy with this new Pamela. \\ e do not mean to say that any tiling so vulgar — so unspeakably common-place — as a pro- posal of marriage, had been published, accepted, or even made. Anything so e very-day, down- right, and straight forward, must have been quite out of place here. She was his Louisa ; he, her Lord William ; her innocent heart looked 94 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. no further; or looked upon marriage as a matter of course, which would follow in due time. He said nothing about it — and she had neither father, brother, nor friend to remind him that he ouijht. It was a very serious misfortune to Louisa, at this important crisis of her life, to have been deprived, as we have related, of the sanction and advice of Mrs. Digby. That sensible and excellent woman — a gentlewoman complete, in the highest sense of the word — would, by her protection, have thrown a shield over her, which would have preserved her alike from the dan- gerous, and indeed unwarrantable, attentions paid to her by Lord William, and from the in- toxicating incense of universal notice which she now received. Whereas Mrs. Carlton, as easily dazzled by vanity as the weakest girl of seventeen, en- couraged all this by every means in her power ; A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 95 and never, by the slightest warning hint, put this inexperienced young creature upon her guard. The morning-room at Dangerfield was nearly empty. A few stragglers yet remained wandering about, before going up stairs to dress. The table was strewed with the evidences of female industry, in the shape of netting boxes, em- broidery frames, portfolios, and music books. Mrs. Carlton was still busy at her tapestry. Louisa was writing music at a small table. Lord William stretched on a couch behind her, a pamphlet in his hand, his lips close to her ear — the tempter whispering the innocent Eve. The door opened, and Mrs. Digby was announced. The first compliments to the hostess paid, she went up to Louisa — •• My dear Miss Evelyn, circumstances 96 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. oblige me to be very disagreeable, and to ask whether you can be so good natured as to quit Dangerfield immediately. I come armed with authority," added she, with a gentle smile, " and bound by a promise to Mr. Evelyn to call, and convey you home, on my way to town, where the sudden and alarming illness of my son calls me without a moment's delay." She was too much occupied by her own anxious feelings and real sorrows, to observe the dismay that was painted upon Louisa's face as she spoke; the changing fallen countenance — the air of sudden, universal consternation. Lord William rose abruptly — listened to what was said — and immediately left the room, without uttering a syllable. Mrs. Carlton, for once, comprehended her young friend's feelings perfectly. " If it must be so," said she, after a little con- versation with Mrs. Digby and Louisa, in which A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 97 it too plainly appeared that so it must indeed be. " I will tell Rosalie immediately to put up your things, and bring down your hat and shawl here. Will you oblige me so far, as to the last two bars to that music which you , . so kindly copying for me. I have a pre- ice against other hands finishing what has once been begun by yours — and I have a word for Mrs. Digby in private." Now, any one would have supposed, that this word in private was to inform that kind and judicious friend of the situation of Louisa's affairs ; so deeply interesting to all who cared for her. Xot in the least. A little jealousy with which Mrs. Carlton always regarded the other lady, joined to an instinctive dread of interference in a matter which she hoped to bring to a successful issue, but. in which she felt, that she had not acted altogether prudently, closed her lips. vol. i. f 98 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. She flattered herself, also, that by employing Louisa, at this moment, in the manner just related, and by leaving her in sole possession of the apartment, that she had furnished Lord William with an opportunity, which he would eagerly seize, for making, before Miss Evelyn's departure, that explicit declaration of his senti- ments, and that direct proposal of marriage, which she would fain have persuaded herself was only waiting a fair occasion ; choosing to forget, as she had done all along, that had Lord Wil- liam made up his own mind upon the subject, nothing could be so easy as to make an occasion, whenever, it should please him, to declare his sentiments. It does not appear, however, that Lord Wil- liam had at all approached that point which, every inexperienced girl imagines, to be the con- sequence inevitably following the first tender speech that she receives, and which most often lies at such an unattainable distance beyond it. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 99 He had his own ways of thinking and feeling upon these matters ; and was the last man in the world to do a thing merely because he ought ; or to pledge himself in the enthusiasm of feeling to that which his cooler moments might disapprove. All he now said was vague; as had been all that he had ever said. It was a beautiful afternoon of April. The green leaves, after a soft shower, were breathing forth that delightful vernal smell, with which nature gladdens the spirits at that season ; the air was filled with the notes of the innumerable birds, pouring forth their innocent songs of love and joy; the bees were busy over the sweet spring flowers; all spoke of hope and happi- ness. Louisa had finished her task, and, rising, stood half concealed by the curtains of a deep bay window, whose folding leaves, opening to the ground, were now flung wide apart : the f 2 100 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. springing turf, the shrubberies, flowers, and richly-furnished saloon forming, as it were, one picture. Her soft small hand was pressed in his — her heart was almost audibly beating. " Don't go, Louisa — don't leave me, my Louisa ! Why should we so rudely dispel this dream — this rapturous dream ? Why — my charmer and my life ! — why wilt thou leave me ? Art thou not mine ? Mine, by the dear- est, the closest, the most sacred of ties ? Mine, by unalterable sympathies ? Leave me not, my loveliest !" " I must — my father — " "Thy father! And are there duties — can there be obligations — holier than those we owe to each other ? Can any father — any being on earth — possess a right to destroy, what ages may pass by and never restore — a dream of pure and blissful love — a paradise ! — a heaven ! like this we have enjoyed together ! I tell thee it is A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 101 heaven itself we now enjoy ! Aye, go — once go — and the charm is broken ! We may live for ages — meet for years ; but never shall we renew the soul-stirring delight of these mo- ments" .... That Louisa did go, was no act, on her part, of either prudence or virtue. The appearance of Rosalie with the hat, and of Mrs. Digby with an air of haste and of anxiety to be gone, terminated this little col- loquy. The sudden separation of the lovers originated in Mr. Evelyn's wish to procure a safe, and we may add elegant, conveyance for his daughter home ; and the fate of Louisa, for life, appeared to be decided by the insignificant circumstance — that her father had no carriage. The parting was over. The door closed ; the carriage started forward ; Louisa sank into a cor- ner in the most delightful reverie : all those late passages of tenderness and love, heightened by the 102 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. imaginative character of herself and her lover, and by the excitement of the scenes in which they had passed, crowding to her recollection. Again she felt the last expressive grasp of his hand — the soft flutter of her answering heart ; again those eyes were fixed in fond rapture upon her face — once more hers dropped beneath the gaze. It was with difficulty that she could rouse herself to converse, in few and detached sen- tences with Mrs. Digby, who, full of her own melancholy anticipations, observed not the ab- straction of her companion. A few hours brought them to the end of their journey. They stopped at the Vicar's well - known door. And here, were tales of fairy transformations true, and had Louisa suffered one of those ma- tamorphoses which convert deformity into beauty, beauty into deformity ; elegance into A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 103 rudeness, and rudeness into civility ; cottage maids into courtly queens, and courtly queens into lowly cottage maids, her sensations could -oarcely have been more unpleasant or more imexpected. One instant sufficed to flash the conviction upon her mind, that she was radically and irre- vocably changed. The sweet and pure affections, which had so softly stirred and excited her mind, now scarcely made themselves felt; while, in their place, an intense absorbing passion occupied every feeling of her heart. What was the love — the appro- bation — of every other living being to her, when he, the object of every thought and wish, was away ? The very scene itself — that scene once 50 pleasing and so cheerful — appeared trans- formed, as if by magic, into something mean, vulgar, spiritless, and dull. She had passed 104 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. from the centre of elegance, luxury, and refine- ment — and the simple unadorned home of her youth appeared narrow, shabby, and disagree- able. The heart of Louisa must not be too much blamed for this. Had her chai'acter been less susceptible to impression, or had no softer sen- timents mingled with the elegances of Danger- field, the greatness of the change had been little felt ; or, being felt, had been compensated by her affections. But as it was, the very life- spring of affection seemed to have expired within her. So early does passion destroy her fairer, bet- ter sister. Mary and her children ran to the door to meet and welcome the returning wanderer. Mary, in her coloured morning gown, her hair in the disorder of one who had been busy ; the chil- dren rough, and in outrageous spirits. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 105 Louisa hated herself for the feeling of dis- gust which rose like a spectre, instantaneous as unanticipated, in her heart. She hastened to atcb her sister, and the little ones, in her arms, arid atone by her caresses for the secret and in- voluntary injustice. She was entering the parlour, hanging on Mary's arm, the children shouting for joy, till her ears tingled, as Charles opened the garden door and met her. His eyes and his heart were as sensitive as her own, and the impression of change as sudden and as painful. Louisa, that sweet careless girl, so gay, so playful, at once the object of his playful flattery, and playful, though more earnest, reproof — the creature whom already in fancy he had ventured to call his own ; who had frolicked by his side with innocent gaiety, beau- teous and wild as a forest fawn — was become an elegant dignified woman — a thing of another f 3 106 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. class and another order, as distinctly individual, and severed from the family group, as if ori- ginally of a different nature. Much of these sudden sensations might be attributed to the power of dress, which, trifling as it ought to appear, and very soon becomes, is almost irresistible over our first impressions. And the perfect elegance of Louisa's attire contrasted strongly with the homely appearance of Mary. But more was due to that change which had taken place in her inner being, which had lifted and raised her sense of things, by teaching her that she sympathized Avith, and belonged to, a man like Lord William. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. CHAPTER VII. A few days would have sufficed to clear awaj the kind of distance and awkwardness of feel- ing which were felt by all, though confessed by none, had the impression made upon the heart of Louisa been less ineffaceable. But, unfortu- nately, he who had engaged her affections was so highly gifted, that reflection and comparison were little her friends. Even in intellect, he, matured by the world and adorned by all that the best education can add to the rarest natural endowments, excelled every one she had ever seen : and how could 108 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. the simple and unaffected demonstrations of regard, which she had been accustomed to re- ceive from Charles, bear comparison with the passionate, adulatory, imaginative tone of Lord William's dangerous flatteries ? In all other gifts, who should even pretend to approach him ? Such were the comparisons and reflections in which she allowed herself fatally, imprudently — we may add, faultily — to indulge ; for it is a fault, to suffer an intoxication like this, to prevail over the long-tried affection of years. But she was young: inexperienced in the ways of the heart, ignorant of the weakness of her own ; with no wise and tender mother near to watch and warn ; and we must not be too severe to mark that want of moral discipline, which should have restrained those treacherous reveries, in which it was so delightful to indulge. For the first few days her mind was absorbed A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 109 by these sweet recollections, and an intense desire for the renewal of such happiness was the only pain with which she had to deal. But day after day passed on, and no Lord V\ llliam appeared ; and then to the fond regret that already began to eat away her heart, was added all the anguish of doubt, of indig- nation, of shame, and of despair; alternating with tenderness, devotion, and confidence ; and terminating in the most desponding melancholy. In vain, as the conviction that she was aban- doned and forgotten took possession of her mind, did she endeavour to banish the seducing image ever present to her fancy. In vain she sum- moned every principle of duty and reason to her aid. En pensant, qu'il faut, qu'on oublie, L'on s'en souvient. Of the presence which had given so new and delightful a charm to every object, she 110 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. was deprived; and the sweetness and the fla- vour seemed extracted from existence. Every scene which surrounded her had lost its cheerful aspect. Every employment its zest and interest. She wandered round her garden, indifferent, musing, and melancholy; she walked in the neighbouring fields, without, as usual, asking the children to join her. — suffering, with more than the usifal intensity, all those agonies to which the young and unguarded expose themselves, when they yield their hearts, with too much facility, to the flattering delusions of passion. She passed the weary weeks away in that withering of the heart, which attends the gra- dual decline and final extinction of hope. Lord William came not — and Louisa, at length, un- willingly admitted the conviction, that she should see him no more. At length the ravages made, by this destructive A COUNTRY VICARAGE. Ill enemy to her peace, were no longer to be concealed. As time rolled on, an alarming change in her sister's health became visible to the affec- tionate eyes of Mary. Languor, and an unusual .depression of spirits were succeeded by a posi- tive decline in physical strength. There was an evident desire to reassume the usual occupations, to take more than the usual share in the little household duties : for despair had produced self examination, and self re- proach, and a wish — alas ! too futile ! — to recover the cheerful, affectionate, and active habits of her former life. But the trembling and un- certain hand — the flushed brow — the catching breath, betrayed how little the frame was equal to exertion. There was likewise an effort at recovering die accustomed gaiety; but the laugh, once so merry and heart- cheering, sounded hollow and 112 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. unnatural ; and the affection which she now more than ever lavished upon Mary, had some- thing in it tearful and pathetic. The children were perpetually upon her lap ; for the little creatures, with that nice percep- tion which distinguishes unspoiled infancy, had exchanged their riotous greetings, whenever Louisa appeared, for quiet and gentle caresses ; and would sit, one or the other, silently upon her knee for hours, the little rosy cheek pressed against that soft and ever fluttering bosom. The relation with Charles, however, conti- nued to be decidedly altered in its character. There was a distance, a gravity, a reserve in her deportment, strangely contrasted with her former affectionate and gay familiarity. Yet her voice, when she spoke to him, had a sweeter tone than when she addressed any other crea- ture; though it was a most melancholy sweet- ness. He, on his part, was more assiduous than A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 113 ever at his studies — but a nice observer might detect the eye raised from the page, and bent with an air, serious yet most kind, upon that form, which now, listless and abstracted, was sunk on the old-fashioned settee, or buried in the large wicker chair before him. Sometimes, after he had been gazing long and silently, the book would close with a sudden noise, which would arouse Louisa, only how- ever to witness the hasty departure of Charles by the garden door, whence he would stray into the distant fields, and not return for hours. At last, Molly broke the ominous and uni- versal silence. " I don't like Miss Louy's looks, ma'am," said she to Mary, " there's a worm in the flower." " Indeed, Molly, she does seem languid and out of spirits ; she was possibly over-done by the late hours at Dangerfield." 114 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. Molly made a dissenting sort of grunt, and returned to her pastry. " I wish;" continued Mary, " that my hus- band were here ; he talks of returning in a few days ; then he will tell us what is the matter." " I doubt not," said Molly, in an aside. " She certainly grows thin and pale," said Mary, considerately. " I think, Molly, some of your good kitchen physic is wanting. Do let us have some nice broths and jellies made, to tempt her to take nourishment; for, indeed, she eats little or nothing." " I will make some directly, ma'am," said Molly ; " mayhap it may do something." " She has no cough? " said Mary, anxiously. " No, ma'am, no cough," repeated Molly. From this moment, nothing could equal the affectionate attentions of this kind sister and worthy domestic. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 115 The food, the bed, quiet, rest, and air, every circumstance that could contribute to exhilarate the spirits or improve the strength, were at- tended to with the nicest assiduity. For though ii appeared to Mary utterly impossible to assign any adequate cause for this excessive depression, she was of far too simple and gentle a nature to do as too many do — blame the affliction which they cannot comprehend. To soothe suffering and console grief were the only remedies this kind heart thought of employing, against a distress to her utterly inexplicable. She had, yet, to learn, that a drooping heart and sinking spirits are to be remedied by harsh remonstrances and exhorta- tions. In her innocent goodness, Mary only busied herself with attempting to comfort one that she saw evidently ill and unhappy ; without trying to investigate too closely, whether, ac- cording to her ideas, the affliction was out of 116 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. proportion to its cause. — It never entered into her head to use reproof as an anodyne for grief, or to heal a wounded spirit by un- kindness. She had once or twice spoken to Louisa upon the subject of her unhappiness, and had endea- voured to lead her to a confession of its origin ; in the hopes that such confession might serve to unburthen the heart. But finding these attempts only seemed to occasion an increase of suffering, she had abandoned them, and had confined herself to attempting, by her artless phi- losophy and humble unsophisticated religion, to soothe her more sensitive sister to a resignation and patience, such as she had herself invariably opposed to the evils, slight indeed, which had as yet been encountered in her simple career. Louisa received all these attentions with a gratitude and sensibility only too acute ; for her affection for her sister and the children had re- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 117 turned with a force that seemed to borrow some- thing from the all-pervading passion of her soul. But affection no longer possessed the power to make her happy — That sentiment which had once been a source of constant joy and cheerfulness, was incapable of producing the slightest thrill of pleasure to her seared and blighted heart — the spring of joy was stopped, and every object was equally tasteless. Nature was sinking under a moral atrophy. Often, when Mary, with her softest smiles, and kindest looks and words, would bid her rest ; lay her on the sofa, place her pillows, and then return, with the small, delicate basin of nourish- ing broth, to tempt, if possible, the palled appe- tite — would Louisa pass a mouthful through her parched lips ; then would a swell of the heart forbid any farther attempt to swallow ; she would press Mary's hand, look up with eyes of melancholy gratitude ; and bury her head in the pillows to conceal her tears. 118 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. Her favourite occupation was to tend Mary's infant. She would pace the garden for hours, with the little unconscious being nestling in her bosom ; while her tears fell fast on the sleeping baby's face. It was thus that Charles once saw her, un- observed himself. His eyes followed her for a few moments, and he then became so extremely and suddenly ill that he was forced to throw himself on the ground, where he lay, burying his face within his hands, endeavouring to struggle with the excess of his pain. Thus had he often seen her before — her soft eyes bent upon the child, the picture of peace and love. — What sweet thoughts ! — what fond ideas ! had that image once suggested to his mind. But now ! — As pain subsided reflection arose, and a new light broke upon his mind. It may seem strange that the thought had never struck him until then ; but so it was. — For the first time, the course of A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 1 19 his ruminations led him to surmise the true cause of all the distress he deplored. Slowly, unwillingly, the idea was admitted ; but, once admitted, it was followed by an instant intuitive persuasion of its truth; and every de- tail of her looks and conduct, which he nowcon- - dered with the most painful attention, seemed but to prove the justice of his impressions. When Charles returned to the house, his look was so excessively grave, and the expression of his countenance, though calm, was so full of suf- fering — of pain almost amounting to despair — that it arrested the attention of Mary. "What can have happened, Charles?" was her exclamation. Louisa was aroused by it; one glance was enough, and it was once again "Dear Charles !" as she hastily arose, and inquired, with the great- est sweetness, what had so distressed him. Charles, we know, was a philosopher, and he 1-20 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. tried hard to be a stoic ; but the tears forced themselves into his eyes at this. " My dear Louisa !" was all he could at the moment articulate ; but he took the hand which she held out, and pressed it, in so earnest, yet so grave a manner, that even Lord William, had he been present, could not have objected. " It is nothing ! " he at last found breath to say; then, more gaily — "You know I think a good deal, and there is enough in this world to make all who think melancholy at times." Louisa sighed. " There is, indeed," said she. That very evening, Charles received a letter from a fellow collegian, which confirmed his worst apprehensions. After rallying him upon the admiration which he was supposed to entertain for the fair nymph of the parsonage, this friend went on to say : — " That this, his first passion, with the usual ill or good luck of all sentimentalists, phi- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 121 losophers, and poets, was destined in all proba- bility to come to an unsuccessful issue; for that Parson Evelyn's beautiful daughter was, by common report, already bespoken ; having, as it was universally said, achieved more than I been accomplished by any beauty of ancient, . modern times, namely, the conquest of the most talented, the most wealthy, the most irre- sistible — and the most insensible — of his sex. " The man — whom not a young lady from the Orkneys, to the Land's End would refuse. " How she effected this, we leave it to you to determine ; but counsel you, as the great con- queror has taken the field, to consider of a timely retreat. Seriously, my good fellow, if thou be-est in the lover's ' condoling vein,' — as thou art of the sentimental sort, — I advise thee to be wise in time; and not remain too long, shut up in a parlour, ten feet square, with this Helen. " For nothing is more certain, than that Lord vol. I. G 122 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. William's devotion was the theme of the whole society assembled at Dangerfield ; and though the engagement between them was not openly declaimed, it was a perfectly well-understood thing." This letter closed at once all the flattering dreams of happiness in which Charles had long so fondly indulged. What the chances might be that Miss Evelyn and Lord William Melville would ever meet again, he paused not to calcu- late — it was enough, she loved another — and his own personal prospects were at an end. What were the struggles of a nature, passion- ate, and vehement, under this bitter disappoint- ment, were never exposed to mortal eye. But Charles was not formed to sink under a trial of this nature. He had been early disciplined to habits of fortitude and self-denial ; and, with the determination of a man of sense and spirit, set about to repress a passion which could now A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 123 only sei've, if indulged, to render his life a bur- then to himself and others. But, while he steadily controlled what was selfish in his wishes, he did not the less cherish a most tender interest in every thing which might befall Louisa. To secure her happiness he would have perilled his life; perhaps he did more when he perilled his peace of mind, by re- maining on the field, with the generous object of watching over and protecting her in this crisis of her fate ; and of endeavouring to support her health and spirits in every emergency ; — a task winch he felt, and felt justly, she possessed no friend, but himself, capable of undertaking with propriety. And in the execution of which, he denied himself even the slightest indulgence that could soften his own feelings. The little parlour of the Vicarage was, as a first measure of precaution, immediately aban- doned by Charles. His books were carried into G2 124 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. his bed-room, where he applied himself unremit- tingly to his studies during the greater part of the day ; endeavouring to subdue, by the severest application, the too busy memory of the past. He wrote and read indefatigably ; and passed the fine summer evenings in long walks, which carried him to a considerable distance from the house, in every possible variety of direction ; and from which he very often did not return till supper was over, and the two sisters were gone to bed. His first care in the morning, was to receive from Mary a minutely accurate report of the manner in which Louisa had passed the night ; to arrange with her the plan for gentle exercise and amusement during the day; to provide her with books — some calculated to amuse and divert the mind ; others of a more serious and devotional character, which he hoped might gently lead her to the true sources A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 125 of mental strength and equanimity. But every thing melancholy or sentimental, or which dealt too curiously with the recesses of the heart, was as carefully weeded from the se- lection as could have been done by the hand of . he most solicitous mother. It may appear strange to some, that the charge of Louisa should fall as it were almost exclusively on Charles. But a little considera- tion will shew, that Mary, with all her goodness and sincerity, might yet want a certain delicate discrimination, necessary to the successful per- formance of a task so difficult; and it is certain, that Mr. Evelyn, with an inattention too com- mon to parents rather in the decline of life, had very superficially observed that which was so evident to all the rest. He saw that his Louisa was wanting in her usual gaiety ; but as she smiled more — nay almost exclusively for him, and made incredible efforts to conceal her weakness in his presence, 126 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. and to dissipate any anxiety he might feel, he did not perceive how much was amiss. Besides, age does rarely sympathize with youth. — There has been a vast distance tra- versed between the two points ; in the course of which, most women, and almost all men, have met with so many urgent and bitter troubles ; so many wearying anxieties; so many cruel tortures of body or of mind, — that those sorrows — equally intense, though apparently springing from a less substantial foundation — which agitate the the hearts, and derange the healths of the young, are too easily forgotten. Therefore should man, throughout the whole of his career, cultivate and maintain in himself the gentle attribute of pity — of pity for infirmi- ties not his own, and for sorrows in which he has ceased himself to participate ; and, by the daily practice of indulgent consideration for others, learn to resist the deadening influence of years. Most parents, even the tenderest, will find it A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 127 wise to remember this. Few carry to the sor- rows of their adult children, that anxious sympa- thy and that tender solicitude which soothe the sickness and the griefs of childhood ; and many an unlooked-for decline, and many an early grave, might have been averted, were this not too fre- quently the case. This remark — and it is strange, but it is true — but too often, applies to mothers in every class — least, we believe, in the lowest. 128 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. CHAPTER VIII. At length Mary's husband, the worthy, plain- mannered, plain-spoken Mr. Phillips, returned. He had been attending a valued friend and noble patron in Ireland, where the precarious health of his patient had detained him for an unusual length of time ; and he now returned, his cheerful spirits rendered more cheerful by the happy success which had crowned his judicious exertions, and his narrow purse well filled by- its recompence, to take Mary and his children away. The meeting between this worthy man and A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 129 his affectionate wife ; the pride with which Mary, arrayed in her most becoming dress, pre- sented her little ones, whom she had been curl- ing, and combing, and dressing half the after- noon, to their father — the honest exultation of the father in his treasures — the plain and hearty sense of happiness and self-respect which sat upon his countenance — all these were to Charles a refreshing relief from his present uneasy feel- ings. He loved to see happiness — he loved to see genuine, unsophisticated happiness — and he loved simplicity and truth, and there were all these in the manner of this worthy pair to each other. The scene pleased Louisa too. It struck no answering chord to pain her heart. Her love for Lord William — the enjoyment she had ex- perienced from his society, and even from his very presence, was so exquisite, so refined, so unlike anything which she could conceive as o 3 130 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. belonging either to Mary or to her husband, that she gazed without any of those regrets which the best must feel, when called upon to witness the joys lost for them — and to look at happiness through other people's eyes. Mr. Phillips, like all the rest of the family, was excessively fond of Louisa, and, as she put her hand in his, he looked in her face, and said — " How 's this, Louisa ? — you are not well." " Only a little nervous," said she, trying to laugh. " That is a very foolish way of talking, beg- ging your pardon," said he, gravely, " because it means two very different things ; either a very weak indulgence of very faulty feelings — or one of the most terrible inflictions with which it hath pleased the Almighty to visit his creatures : in the first and common sense of the word, I am sure you will never be nervous, Louisa ; from the A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 131 second, may God preserve you," added he, in a lower voice. When Louisa and Mary were gone up stairs to put the children to bed, Charles, turning to his friend, said, with an air very gravely anxious, — " I hope, Mr. Phillips, you will not think me impertinent in begging of you to pay very par- ticular attention to Louisa. I do not like to alarm her father, or to increase the fears of Mary ; but I suspect that something must be very much amiss with her ; and if she be still free from disease, that she will not long continue so." Mr. Phillips looked rather surprised at the gravity, approaching to formality, with which Charles spoke, and said, — " Charles, I had expected, before this time, that you would have thought yourself perfectly justified in asking any question you thought 132 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. proper about Louisa — aye, and in offering me my fee too," opening his hand. Charles looked distressed. " Well, well, that's it, is it ? — I say no more ; but I quite agree with you — something is very much amiss with Louisa, and her looks make me as anxious as yourself; but I will watch her well to-day and to-morrow — for I will stay here to-morrow for that express purpose — and I shall by that time be able to discover whether there is anything very seriously the matter. Take no notice to my dear Mary of what I have said : even that good creature has the woman's infir- mity ; I don't suppose she could keep a secret from her sister to save all our lives. I wish Louisa to be without the least suspicion of my intention ; and I am sorry I made the remark I did." Mr. Phillips was as good as his word. He A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 133 narrowly observed Louisa during the whole of the two following days ; and on the evening of the second, when the rest of the family were gone to bed, he thus delivered his opinion to Charles : — " The case, my dear friend, is simply this. Something is hanging upon Louisa's mind, which keeps her in a constant state of internal strug- gle and excitement. The combat within is too much for her strength, and is evidently tearing her to pieces. — There is, at the same time, a mental despondency, and universal sense of dis- couragement upon all subjects, which poisons her whole being : these lively and feeling young creatures cannot resist this. You see how it is — sleep is no refreshment — food is taken without desire ; while the spirits are never stirred by those alternations of better moments, which carry so many, with astonishing powers of resistance, through such grievous tortures, both of body and 134 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. mind. — There is no consumptive tendency in her family, nor in her, in spite of the extraordinary delicacy of her complexion, or her case would be hopeless indeed : but her nervous system is rather defective, and it is there where the mis- chief has fallen — and the consequences, if not averted, will as surely lead to ill as if a hectic were already upon her cheek. It will only be a longer process ; but it affords us more time to interfere for her relief, and this is a great matter." Charles looked relieved by this speech ; he took a long breath. " What must be done ?" said he. " Take the weight off her spirits as soon as possible, to be sine," said Mr. Phillips. " But how — how — how " stammered Charles. " How, if it be — love?" in a tone so excessively strange and unnatural, that it made' Mr. Phillips start. A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 135 " How if it be ? You need not speak so like a voice from the grave, Charles.— Make her father arrange the difficulties, whatsoever they may be." " How, if that be not possible ?" " Make it possible." " How, if I cannot ? "— cried Charles, rising with a distress he could no longer conceal. " Must she die ? " — Mr. Phillips shook his head. " Oh ! " cried Charles, wringing his hands, " what must be done ? — What can be done? — Phillips, there is no chance of effecting what you propose. Believe me, I must not betray her secret ; but it is impossible. Find some palliative — arrange some plan — some system of treatment by which we may conquer this unhappy malady — and save her, for " He stopped, sorry at his own vehemence, and sat down, looking uncomfortable. " For — what 136 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. would become of her father ?" — at length he said. " I am quite sure," said Mr. Phillips, re- suming the conversation, after a short pause, " that an arrangement, such as I should desire, is impossible, because you say so. I am con- fident no trifling or ridiculous obstacles — no, nor very reasonable objections would, in this instance, appear of weight in your eyes. I therefore waive that part of the subject. Variety, change of place and occupation, new faces, and so on, is the next chance. — I will leave Mary with her a little longer ; she is not in her con- fidence ; therefore an excellent companion. I will then send Mary and the children to the sea, and she shall go with them ; as to the ex- pense, the generosity of my noble friend has made it a possible matter, and it shall be done imme- diately. You may contribute a pony-chaise, if you like, without either of them being the wiser " A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 137 Charles shook the good man by the hand : " Phillips," said he, " I am eternally obliged to you. You have removed a mountain from my heart." " But mind," said his friend, " we must not be too sanguine. Change of scene is nothing, if the heart remain unchanged. And, at all events, we must expect a very unpleasant derangement of the nerves and spirits. — This is a most provoking business," added he, in a tone of extreme vexation. " Such a fine creature spoiled !" And, with a dissatisfied look, he took \vs candle and went to bed. Not so Charles. The first bright flush of hope had been suddenly extinguished by Mr. Phillips's last remark ; and, struck with the description he had received of the danger which impended over her he so fondly cherished ; and melting with pity at the prospect of her sufferings, he re- 138 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. mained till midnight, pondering on the possi- bility of affording the only relief which would certainly terminate them. His indignation was excited at what, he feared, must have been idle gallantry on the part of Lord William, for he could not accuse her of too fond a credulity, in giving credit to the sincerity of attentions which were considered serious by all the world. The man who could trifle wantonly with the feelings of so innocent a creature, he considered as un- worthy of possessing her. Yet, again, he reflected, that though perhaps careless and unprincipled to a culpable degree, with respect to the affections of a beautiful girl, Lord William bore a very high reputation in the world, as a man of sense and honour ; and farther, that he possibly might be entirely ignorant of the strength of the impres- sion he had made. He could see nothing in the affair to justify any one in desiring to terminate it by a final A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 139 separation. And this being the case, he con- cluded by a resolution, should the means be ever presented, to forward it as far as lay in his power. But most especially he resolved to watch carefully the course things might take, and as a friend of her father's, to interpose, in place of a brother, should he find cause to suspect any intention of rendering her the victim of injustice or caprice. Those who know by experience the force and the weakness of a young man's love — its ardent wishes — its rankling jealousies — the bitterness, th<^ distraction with which the idea of a loved ob- ject in the possession of another fills the breast, may appreciate the generosity of Charles, — a ge- nerosity, in which many will find it impossible to sympathize. But he, like the fond mother, in the beautiful story of Scripture, preferred his own despair to the destruction of the darling 140 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. of his affections. — Shall we say, therefore that he loved less ardently than many of his race ? The next day put all these good resolutions to the proof, A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 141 CHAPTER IX. It was a soft, warm day in the beginning of August, when the stillness of the air — where the lightest leaf has ceased to flutter ; the heat rather enervating than oppressive ; and the perfect quiet in which the usually busy inhabitants of the woods and groves seen reposing, disposes the mind to tranquillity and tenderness. Mr. Phillips was under the necessity of re- turning that day to his patients, and to his home ; and Mary, who, in her quiet, unobtrusive way, had made a very great sacrifice, by con- senting to remain at the Vicarage, was gone 142 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. with her children to accompany him a short way upon his journey. Louisa, left to herself, and occupied by her own melancholy musings, had strolled into the little wood which terminated her father's garden. This pleasant little copse was a tangled wil- derness of hazels, mountain ash, holly, and oak, under which, in spring, the ground was abso- lutely enamelled with flowers. The blue hya- cinth forming, as it were, one sheet of lapis la- zuli, tinted by the delicate pink of the lychnis, and relieved by the little white cockleshell of the stitchwort — Here the birds were wont to make the morning and evening vocal, with their songs ; the thrush called to his mate from some golden-foliaged oak, while the blackbird's mel- low tone burst from a thicket hard by. Now, all this music was silent, all these flowers faded — save now and then a flaunting honey- suckle, and a last, faint, fading rose. But the A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 143 dark, deep, green of summer was upon the trees, and its dull unvaried hues suited well with the sombre tone of mind, with which this once gay and lovely creature — lovely still, but gay no more — pursued her solitary walk. The little wood was situated on the side of a small glen, through which ran a bubbling brook ; and n path, almost concealed by the thickets of hazel-nut and woodbine that hung over it, wound in a pleasant sort of natural meander through it. This path led into the fields, and by them communicated with the neighbouring village. It was, as we have said, the favourite walk of Louisa, because it was so perfectly retired, that she could here indulge her me- lancholy without restraint ; and here she would walk for hours, carrying Mary's baby in her arms. Charles, likewise, usually passed through the copse on his way to his distant rambles ; but he 144 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. had learned to avoid disturbing Louisa, and had made himself a way through the thickets— not, it must be owned, very far from the path, and at various little accidental openings commanding a view of it. She was this day oppressed with more than usual languor. " And will he not come again ? And will he not come again ? No, he is false — he is false to his true love. He never will come again." These words haunted her mind, as, with a recklessness which she had accustomed herself to think wrong, she ran over in memory all those tender scenes which had passed between herself and her lover, — gratifying her sick heart by picturing even the minutest peculiarities of tone and gesture, and the speaking expression of those eyes ! — those tender beautiful eyes, as A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 145 they poured, what might well have been called, the very light of love upon her. Lost in the fond recollection, she heard not the steps of one rapidly approaching. The sound nears — the steps quicken — quicker ~nd quicker. A figure emerges from the closing- trees. She hears him — she looks up. 'Tis he ! — 'Tis Lord William ! The anger of a moment swelled within her, — one brief, short instant of woman's pride. The next, she was in his arms ; her hands clasped round his neck, and a torrent of tears bedewingr his breast. CD Lord William had passed the time, since his separation with Louisa, in a succession of sensa- tions which bore little comparison with the in- tensity of hers. A man of a fervid imagination, vol. r. h 146 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. yet little capable of deep feeling, he had been captivated by the extreme beauty and sensibility of Miss Evelyn, enhanced, as all her charms had been, by the peculiar nature of the circum- stances under which he had found her. Her departure had left him listless, spiritless, and unhappy. Yet, to pursue her, to take the downright and obvious step of presenting him- self to her unknown father, and actually espousing this country young lady, would almost have been as repugnant to his feelings as to lose her altogether. A vague wish to possess, without all this fuss and trouble — rather than a deliberate plan, to seduce to vice, and infamy, was what may be said to have chiefly run in his heart, whenever he contemplated the future as con- nected with her. But his views were all undefined. Time rolled on — and the impression she had made, would have been gradually obliterated, had any A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 147 new object arisen to occupy an imagination, morbidly desirous of excitement. But this not being the case, the fair image of Louisa, contrasted with the uncharactered groups of fine gentlemen and ladies surrounding him, haunted him with a tenacity which sur- prised himself. He was tormented by recollections, and given to reverie — his usual amusements became un- interesting and tasteless, and himself most par- ticularly ill-disposed to acknowledge the various attentions of his fair friends and favourites, with e\ m a decent show of gallantry and gratitude. He grew cross and whimsical, and did not very well know how, or where, to bestow his ill- humour. At length, one fine morning, he suddenly resolved to traverse the romantic country in which Mr. Evelyn's parsonage was situated, with the vague intention of seeing Louisa, in some manner or other, again. H 2 148 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. He had set out on horseback, accompanied by a single groom; and had arrived at the village hard by, the night before. There he had slept very comfortably in a bed of checked cotton, which filled the best half of his low white-washed room. And though his sentiment was not strong enough to raise him with the lark, he was up somewhat before his usual time the next morning ; and having dawdled over his breakfast, and an old news- paper, for an hour or two, he had suddenly roused himself, taken his hat, and strolling into the coppice which bounded the little domain of Mr. Evelyn, had met, as we have seen, Louisa. He held her a moment — but one moment — in his arms. The next she disengaged herself, with a look of so much modesty, simplicity, and feeling, and stood before him with a grace, an expression, a loveliness, so unrivalled, that his A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 149 whole soul was moved, and his passion returned with a vehemence that astonished himself. And with it returned the desire to carry off and possess, in solitudes charming as these, un- shackled by the world, and the world's law, this sweet young creature. In plain terms, he would have been very glad to have persuaded her to forsake her father's house, and trust herself to his honour. Little was he formed to consider, that the sacrifice of Louisa would, in this case, be as complete as that of any odier victim to the pride and caprice of man; though not at the usual altar, the world's opinion — but at that of poesy, romance, and a love too extravagant for forms. But such are the disguises of selfishness — and such it is, as was said, of one, endowed with pretty nearly as much egotism, and far more genius — " to possess an imagination of fire, and a heart of ice." 150 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. The scene which ensued, it is needless to describe. It was one all insidious persuasion on one side — all softness, tenderness, modesty, and virtue on the other. It ended, as all such must end, where woman's virtue is to prove victorious — in flight. Louisa started, and, with one faint cry, fled, like the wind, to the house, and to her chamber. Not a doubt of the integrity of her lover had for one moment disturbed her confidence ; but that nice instinct with which the kindness of nature has guarded her frailest, fairest workmanship, was alarmed within her. She felt that all was not quite right, and she fled. He remained leaning against a tree, as she had left him, till the closing branches shut her from his sight. He then slowly and musingly was following the path, which led out of the wood, when his progress was arrested — A figure stood before him, so effectually A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 151 barring the passage, that it was impossible for him to pursue his intention. It was Charles. — His aii* was determined, but perfectly com- posed ; his face was deadly pale. " One word, my Lord — for I believe it is Lord William Melville that I have the honour of addressing. I have been a most unwilling spectator of what has passed within the last three minutes." " You have !" cried Lord William, " and by what right have you presumed ! — by what right have vou dared ! — • • " My Lord, our rights are, I fear, at present pretty much upon an equality. — I too might ask, by what right you have presumed — or dared — to speak in the manner I have been compelled to hear." " It is not my habit to submit to be ques- tioned, or to answer questions," said Lord Wil- 152 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. liam, haughtily. " Neither is it customary for me to enter into broils or contests. — I will trouble you, Sir, to disencumber the way of your pre- sence, and suffer me to pass, on my own ' affairs." " Excuse me, my Lord ! — I must and I will be heard." " If that be the case," said Lord William, eyeing him from head to foot, " I see no alter- native but submission — unless, indeed, I were to trouble myself to knock you down." — " You might find that difficult, my Lord ; at all events, unpleasant. — I shall not detain you long. That young lady — • • " And by what right, I repeat it," cried Lord William, fiercely, " do you presume to interfere between me and that young lady? What is she ? — what has she ever been to you ? that you thrust yourself, thus impertinently into her affairs ? She has no brother ! . . . ." A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 153 " She has no brother. — I do not mean so greatly to insult your Lordship, as to suppose that circumstance has any influence upon your views. — Were that possible, I am here, for the purpose of letting you know, that it is my pre- sent intention to act in the capacity of a brother — and as such, I beg to be informed at once, and explicitly, what are your intentions." " My intentions, Sir, are no affair of yours. And I beg leave to pass." The whole frame of Charles shook with one sudden gust of rage and passion. ;e Whatever your intentions may be — I must — and I will know them, before you leave this spot. Understand me, my Lord — I am not such a fool as to attempt to work upon a nature like yours by threats, unworthy of yourself and me. The vulgar apprehension of being made to answer, as it is called, for your conduct, by risking your life, would, I am well aware, rather urge than h 3 154 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. prevent your perseverance ; but I have my objects — as you may have yours. And if you are resolved to obtain — so am I to protect and defend — not only at the expense of my life — but, if necessary, of hers ! For I tell you fairly, that I love her — love her with a passion ! — A passion ! — I will not so far insult my heart as to compare it with yours ! — But it is a Roman sen- timent, my Lord — and if it be necessary, she shall die, but she shall not be shamed " Lord William stood for a moment — struck, rather than confounded. There was that within him which answered readily to an appeal such as this, — yet pride forbade him to give way. He looked up, haughtily, and motioned to be allowed to proceed on his path. " It cannot be, my Lord — From this place I will not stir, until I have my answer. I ask you once more explicitly, what are your views with regard to Miss Evelyn? — and, in order to en- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 155 gage you to be explicit, I here inform you — that unless I have my answer, and such an answer as her merits deserve — and such as your sense of them leads me to expect, that I shall instantly inform her father, of the circumstances with *vhich I am become acquainted — that I shall instantly inform herself, of my suspicions — sus- picions which I will pledge my salvation, never have once tainted her innocent mind ! — And it is needless to add — you will never behold Miss Evelyn more. . . ." A pause. " I trust you believe in this consequence, my Lord — " cried Charles, crimsoning to the very temples — " You cannot be so infamous as to sup- pose . . ." " I assure you, upon my honour," said Lord William softly, but with dignity, "I entirely and completely credit your last assertion. To doubt it," he added, a moment after, " would give me as much pain as yourself." 156 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. " I thank you, my Lord, for this last admis- sion — it enables me with less difficulty to proceed. Such being your feelings, I will not again do you the injustice to suspect that you have any views dishonourable to Miss Evelyn. At the same time, you may possibly find yourself in the not uncom- mon situation — of being without any very well defined views at all. I must, therefore, beg to be informed, whether your intentions be so decided, that they ought to be communicated to the young lady's father — and I suggest, if that be the case, that the communication be made with- out further delay. I should think my protection of small service to Louisa ! — I beg your pardon — to Miss Evelyn — were I not able to secure her from that devastation of the heart, and spirits — to which uncertainty might expose one so delicate ! so sensitive! — I will add, so attached — as she ! " My Lord, I will be candid with you — I know your merits, I am capable of appre- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 157 dating them — or, believe me, this conversation had never taken place. It is not one of the least in my eyes — that you have distinguished V s Evelyn. I believe it to be impossible — that having known her, having loved her, and having won her tenderness, you ever will — you ever can — resign her. I will not so far flatter you, or belie my own heart, as not to avow, how bitterly for her sake — and for my own — I lament that you have ever met. But having met — and so met — I put it to yourself whether, for your own sake, you will impair the health, shatter the spirits, wring the heart — by a prolonged uncertainty, of the being you mean to make your wife. It is useless — It will afford you opportunity for fur- ther intercourse — You will neither see nor hear of Miss Evelyn, until this indispensable step be first taken. And I warn you, my Lord, if you love her — that you may find cause to repent its being delayed." 158 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. He turned upon his heel to depart. " Sir," said Lord William, " for of your name, I am still ignorant — " " Lovel, Sir." " Mr. Lovel, you have spoken well, — and con- vinced me, I believe, that I had better close my romance here, and proceed to the commonplaces of these affairs. I will return to the inn below ; and consider my determination before I declare it. If you have anything further to say, I shall hear from you there. — Good morning, Sir !" And, with an air of haughty carelessness, he proceeded down the path; and quitted the wood. Charles sat down exhausted, to relieve his heart, by one burst of grief uncontrollable ; by one torrent of passionate, manly tears. He then re-entered the house. Resolved that Lord "William should by no possibility again encounter with Louisa, without the sanction of her father — Charles was sitting, A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 159 the next morning, before six o'clock, at his studies in the parlour. He never throughout that day lost sight of Louisa. If she walked, he was at her side ; if she sat, he was busy at his books. She looked surprised, impatient, restless — but asked no explanation. An air of sweet serenity was in her eyes, which died as the day declined, and was succeeded by the most pathetic expression of disappointment. What Charles felt through that long day may not easily be imagined; but the anguish and the effort cost him so much, that it was diffi- cult for him to walk up the stairs at night. Unhappy Charles ! to whom the smiles and the tears of the being he so fondly loved, were alike the food for anguish and despair. 160 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. CHAPTER X. The next morning brought a letter for Mr. Eve- lyn — a proposal in form from Lord William Melville for Miss Evelyn — and a humble re- quest to be allowed to visit her, and to present himself to her father. Here was a change ! — Such as the fleeting pictures of the drama furnish — But not alone — real life teems with these sudden alternations, these rapid, overwhelming changes ; from misery to ecstasy — from rapture to despair. Those mighty ministers of destiny — Death and Love — equal in force— almost equal in ter- A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 161 ror, change, with their powerful hands, in some few short hours, the whole scene of human cir- cumstance — the whole character of human story — fair more eifectually than the mimic shifter on the boards. Mr. Evelyn, who had so long cherished in secret an excessive pride in his lovely daughter, was raised at once, from the anxiety which anti- cipation of her future destiny habitually occa- sioned, to a state of unchastened exultation — an exulation which might appear strange in one schooled by the trials of many years, were it not true, that we learn little from any experience but our own. His had lain through life, almost exclu- sively among those evils, which narrow circum- stances occasion to refined and ambitious charac- ters, — and he thought little of any other. Of darker and deeper trials he had known few, and in this case anticipated none. Mary was confounded, surprised, pleased, and 162 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. grieved at once. The brilliant success of Louisa gratified this fond and affectionate sister, almost as much as if it had befallen a beloved child of her own ; but the pleasure was. clouded by an undefined, uncomfortable feeling, that her re- lation with this dear friend would be changed ; not merely that she must necessarily see her less, but that she must see her differently — she could but indistinctly picture how, but she felt that different it would be. Then, a man of Lord William's high rank carried with him something most awful to her imagination. The daughters of Mr. Evelyn had been brought up with that too undistin- guishing respect for what was noble — that reve- rence for rank in itself, which formed the only vulgar trait in his own character ; and which, cer- tainly, a life passed in a country town, such as was Mary's, was not calculated to correct. She could not with any comfort fancy so A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 163 great a man sitting in the little vicarage parlour, and resting his noble limbs upon a wicker chair. She felt that she must hide her children, and she ished to hide herself, when he should appear. •lust she offer him luncheon ? — Must she ask :..m to dinner? Molly shook her head. " A very grand doing, for Miss Louy," was her renjark. But she looked cross, and as if she did not half like it. Louisa tasted a joy unmingled with the slightest shade of anxiety, at the difference be- tween her own and her lover's condition. The vehemence of Lord William's expressions had satisfied her inexperienced heart of the truth and fidelity of his feelings ; and her own love was so pure, so remote from reference to station, show, or circumstance, that a suspicion of their effect upon others never entered into her thoughts. 164 A COUNTRY VICARAGE. Not so Lord William. — The moment he was called upon to play the part of accepted ad- mirer, to visit, and to court, in all the forms, in order that he might espouse, in due time, a young woman, to whom neither rank nor fashion gave that prestige with which it is their business to adorn such doings — than a secret disgust took possession of his mind. We repeat, that it was no vulgar fear of the appearance which his country wife would make amongst his acquaintance — of the credit or ridi- cule she might cast upon him — distresses which so grievously perplex weak minds when about to do an unusual thing, that annoyed him. His character was far too proud, we may say too magnanimous, to regard the opinions of man- kind in a matter with which the opinions of mankind had nothing to do. It was simply, that half the charm with which Louisa had been in- vested by his fancy, was dispelled so soon as he A COUNTRY VICARAGE. 165 saw her under this new aspect; and he was entirely wanting in that affectionate tenderness which makes up to better hearts for the destruc- • 'on of imaginations beautiful, but visionary. He was impatient to hurry through prelim i- ries, and to carry off his prize. As for Charles, very urgent business, as he professed, detained him from home the first day of Lord William's appearance there. In the even- in Form L-9-15m-7,'32 IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIlllllilili"!"'"" 1 AA 000 370 505 3 1158 01176 2092 PR 4^80 h3St v.i UNIVE. ALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES LIBRARY ' SiS H