Manners Volume Iii Part 8

Adelaide was so absorbed by the ideas which rose in her mind, that she did not perceive the entrance of nurse, who came to perform her diurnal task of dressing the altar, and who standing behind her, now said, "That's the picture, dear, that Mr. Mordaunt sent his honour from London, six months after Miss Rose married him--an unlucky day that same! And a black-hearted false man he was, to leave my sweet angel, and run away wid another woman." Fire flashed from Adelaide's eye; the indignation which deprived her of utterance was expressed in her whole figure. Nurse awed, and as it were fascinated, by a look from which she could not withdraw her gaze, stared at her for a second or two, and then evidently terrified, exclaimed, "The blessed powers presarve me!--Who are you?--What are you? You're the very moral of Miss Rose! What brings you in her room this day of the year? No mortal has ever darkened the door since she died but myself and his honour. You're like enough to be her fetch, come in the storm to take him away from us. I pray G.o.d I may die first," continued she, weeping bitterly: "my heart was broke when I lost my sweet child. I trust in his mercy I haven't lived on these weary years, to drag my ould bones to his grave!"

"Dear, dear nurse," said Adelaide, kissing her affectionately, smiles and tears struggling for mastery in her eyes, "I'm not come to take him away from you, but to make you both happy--I'm your own Rose's daughter." The old woman set up a shout of joy, and kissed her, and hugged her, and drew back to a little distance, resting her hands on Adelaide's shoulders to look at her from time to time, saying, "The very moral of her! the very moral of her! Her daughter! You wouldn't be so mischievous as to make an ould body crazy? It's not joking you are, jewel?"

CHAPTER XVII.

Half a loaf is better than no bread.

oeOLD PARRoe.

"So Caroline may do with the twenty thousand?"----This was Mrs.

O'Sullivan's reflection as her carriage, for the last time, drove out of the demesne of Ballinamoyle. How she came to this conclusion, the reader must now be informed. Neither Miss Wildenheim nor her grandfather was visible for the remainder of the day, on which the trying scenes, that have just been related, occurred. But immediate steps were taken to prevent the celebration of Caroline's birthday, as had been intended, on the following morning; and Mr. Dermoody waited on her mother, to explain the reasons for this disappointment. He accomplished this task with much difficulty, as she interrupted him every three minutes with, "I can't understand nothing about it, Sir. She's an odorous imposter--I tell you, Sir, she's an abominable imposter." And she, in fine, threatened to take the law of Mr. O'Sullivan:--she'd see her child righted, cost what it would, and bring that artful baggage to shame. Mr.

Dermoody then reminded her, that Caroline had no _right_ to her uncle's estate, who had given her father a large sum to cut off the entail; so that if Miss Wildenheim's claims were absolutely nugatory, it was entirely in his own disposal; but that as this transaction had taken place since her birth, it was invalid, as Adelaide was the heir at law in preference to Caroline's father; but that, to put the matter beyond doubt, the present proprietor intended to bequeath his estate immediately to his grandaughter, who would thus inherit it by a double tenure. He was too much incensed at that moment to tell her his belief, that Mr. O'Sullivan would also provide for his favourite little Caroline. "Wery vell, Sir, wery vell, I see how it is; she has set you up to cheat me. All these outgoings for nothing! I'd have seen your shabby old place at the d.i.c.kens before I'd have come so far, if I'd guessed how it would have turned out. Me and mine will be off to-morrow, Sir;" so saying, she flounced out of the room.

Father Dermoody had scarcely finished this discussion with one unreasonable woman, when he had to encounter a second with another. Miss Fitzcarril way-laid him in the pa.s.sage from Mrs. O'Sullivan's apartment, to remonstrate on the folly of suffering all the expense and trouble, which had been incurred in the preparations made to entertain the tenantry, to go for nothing: "Why put off the meeting?--Wasn't Adelaide as good an heiress as Caroline? Another sort, on my conscience! I vow and declare I think it's very hard there shouldn't be just as much made of her as the other." "But you don't consider the indelicacy of such a thing; Mrs. O'Sullivan's feelings are sufficiently mortified."

"Indelicacy, indeed!" retorted Theresa, sputtering, as she always did in the heat of an argument; "she knows just as much about delicacy as my foot does; and I should like to see her mortified just for her impertinence." The priest muttered something about an unchristian spirit, and rather gravely said, "If you won't listen to reason, madam, I must inform you in brief, that Mr. O'Sullivan won't suffer it; his pleasure you know is final." Theresa walked off, gesticulating with both her hands, and muttering, "Good Lord! was there ever any thing half so provoking! These men never have the least consideration, after all the trouble I have had! I'm sure I don't know what's to be done with the _loads_ of things that have been got!"

The following morning Caroline did not, as usual, come to Adelaide's room. She rightly guessed she had been prohibited; but as she was proceeding to obey a message from Mr. O'Sullivan, to breakfast with him in his study, as he was too unwell to see more than one or two people at a time, she saw the little girl leaning over the bannisters of the stairs, sobbing as if her heart would break. "What's the matter, my darling?" said she, taking her fondly in her arms. "Unkind Adele!"

sobbed out the afflicted child, "I wouldn't have hurt you for the world; and mama says you're my bitterest enemy. This is a dismal birthday to me; mama's going away, and I shall never see you again, Adele; and n.o.body loves me but you." Here the poor child, throwing her arms about her friend's neck, cried bitterly. "Dearest little Caroline, every body loves you." "No, no, Adele, my heart will break when I leave you." "We will not part," said Adelaide, straining her to her heart; "come with me." And taking Caroline to her grandfather, she placed her on his knee, and drew forth a repet.i.tion of her artless tale. "Mr. Dermoody has told me," said the generous girl, "that you have changed your intentions in her favour. How it would grieve me to injure her prospects! I am amply provided for; I do not desire any increase of fortune; all my heart requires is some being whom I may _securely_ love and be cherished by; and in you is not all this granted? Look at this little angel, and pity her, my dear parent. Oh! her heart will be either broken, or I should never forgive myself the destruction of this lovely creature, whom Providence has, I trust, employed me to save. On condition of your giving her your estate, I'm sure her mother would resign her to my charge till her minority expires." "Adelaide," said the old man, whilst the tears stood in her eyes, "you are as like your mother in mind as in person. Till now I thought no mortal could be as perfect as she was.

Caroline shall stay with us, if I can accomplish it. My estate I cannot, will not, give her; but I have much to bestow besides, which I will offer her mother, on the conditions you mention." He proceeded immediately to Mrs. O'Sullivan, to execute this benevolent commission.

Pride, and some remains of natural affection, made her hesitate to accept his offers. She retired to consult her elder children, and promised to return an answer in an hour. When she informed them of Mr.

O'Sullivan's proposition, Mr. Webberly said, "As far as a few thousands goes, I have no objection to humour the old Don; and Caroline would be welcome to live with us. You needn't fret, mother; if this new heiress marries me, isn't the estate ours after all?" "That's true, so it is, Jack; you'd best make her an offer with all speed." "Do, brother," said Miss Cecilia Webberly, with an eagerness that little accorded with her usual languid delivery; "as I understand the matter, you'd be nephew to Lord Osselstone, and then Meely and I would be _fier ton_." When Mr.

Webberly went in search of Miss Wildenheim, he was told she was in her own room, and could not be seen. "What was to be done?" As there was no time to lose, it was then settled in the family conclave, that Mrs.

O'Sullivan should endeavour to gain admittance to the lady, who was now, like Dr. Lenitive's mistress, possessed of "ten thousand charms,"

for the purpose of _soliciting_ that hand for her son, which four and twenty hours before she had so openly disdained!

When she entered, Adelaide naturally supposing she came on no very friendly errand, received her with a curtsy of the most repulsive dignity; and with a cold gravity of manner, that made her visitor feel she had undertaken a commission she should find great difficulty in executing. She fluttered, and coloured, and hemmed, and played with the costly seals of the watch she always ostentatiously wore on the most conspicuous part of her person, till Adelaide, advancing towards her, said, "May I beg to know your commands, Madam? I own, I scarcely expected the honor of this visit." "Why, Miss Wildenheim, I just vanted to speak to you about my little Carline." "I shall be happy to hear any thing you have to say regarding my dear Caroline, Madam: will you do me the favour to sit down?" Adelaide, taking a chair opposite to the one on which Mrs. O'Sullivan deposited herself, fixed her dark eyes attentively on her face, whilst the former, in a style and dialect that almost conquered her command of countenance, proposed that she should not only take charge of Caroline, but commit herself to the guidance of Mr. Webberly. Offering her as a _douceur_, to have all her _grandfather's_ estate settled on herself; and also half the sum he intended to give Caroline; and promising moreover to "make Jack a fit husband for ere a d.u.c.h.ess in the land." The astonished girl, rather doubting her ability to fulfil this latter gracious promise, and highly amused by the attempt to bribe her with Mr. O'Sullivan's fortune, replied, as soon as she could speak with proper decorum of feature and tone, "I cannot pretend to say that I have not perceived the polite attentions which Mr. Webberly has been in the habit of favouring me with; you will, I hope, Madam, do me the justice to acknowledge that I have never encouraged them: you might have been spared much unnecessary uneasiness, if you had looked on my conduct with unprejudiced eyes; for, (pardon me, Mrs. O'Sullivan,) your son was not a man that I could, under any circ.u.mstances, have married. I should not make these observations, but that I am anxious you should understand, that the occurrences of yesterday have made no change in my sentiments; and though--" "Forget and forgive ought to be the word amongst _friends_," hastily interrupted her auditor. "Some things I _cannot_ forget," returned Adelaide; "I can never forget, that you are the widow of an uncle from whom I received so much affectionate kindness; nor, that to yourself I owe many personal obligations, for affording me an asylum in my hour of adversity, when I had none other to fly to!" And then, in all the winning charms of her captivating manner, she held out her hand, saying, "Though I cannot consent to any nearer connexion, whenever you are inclined to consider yourself my aunt, I shall be happy to show you the duty of a niece."

Mrs. O'Sullivan, quite overcome, said, "You were always a good girl; I wasn't as kind to you as I ought to have been, but--" "I do not wonder,"

interrupted Adelaide, "that you should have been inclined to dislike me; it was very natural, under all the circ.u.mstances; but we are quite cordial now; so pray don't distress me, by referring to a period when you were less my friend than at this moment. If you will confide in me, so far as to resign Caroline to my care, I shall owe you an everlasting obligation." "I will leave her with you," replied the poor woman, bursting into tears; "for I know you will breed her up to be more dutiful to me than the rest; but that's all my own fault. G.o.d bless you, if you make my child a comfort to me in my old age." Adelaide said every thing to console her; and Mrs. O'Sullivan, on retiring to her children, addressed her son, with "She wont have you, Jack, and I'm sorry for it; she's the best girl in the world, after all; but your cousin Hannah Leatherly, is a sweet cretur too." When the hour appointed for the departure of the Webberly family arrived, Caroline, while she held fast hold of Adelaide with one hand, lest she should be torn from her, clung with the other to "her own mama," weeping to part with her; and perhaps, if her mother had not been hurried away by her elder daughters, she could not have withstood this demonstration of her child's awakened affection; but they took care she should not have time to reflect on what she was doing. Adelaide, and her quondam guardian separated in perfect amity, but the Miss Webberlys to the last kept up their envious dislike, and scarcely curtsied whilst they refused her offered hand.

Their brother, on the contrary, could not conceal his sorrow, as he bid her good bye; and, touched by it, she cordially shook his hand, and with much sincerity, wishing him every happiness, thanked him for the good-natured attention he had always shown her. When Miss Fitzcarril saw him depart, she said to herself, "Well, well! Judy Stewart didn't spey it _all_ right, after all; but, to be sure, _winter_ is not come yet!" At the moment in which Mrs. O'Sullivan made the reflection with which this chapter commences, Colonel Desmond rode past, and her son's spirits were not much enlivened, as he pictured to himself his mission to Ballinamoyle, and its probable success.

CHAPTER XVIII.

n.o.bly he yokes A smiling with a sigh: as if the sigh Was that it was, for not being such a smile.

oeCYMBELINEoe.

About the time of Adelaide's arrival at Ballinamoyle, Lord Osselstone and Augustus sailed from Dover, and took the direct road to Brussels, intending to stay in the princ.i.p.al towns through which their route lay, as long as would afford them opportunity of seeing such curiosities as princ.i.p.ally deserved their attention. From Brussels they proceeded to Liege, and stopping a few days at Spa, crossed to Bonn, and from thence enjoyed the delightful scenery which the banks of the Rhine presented.

The melancholy with which the remembrance of his brother was connected in the Earl's mind, threw a softened shade of sadness on his manners, which perhaps won more on the affections of his nephew, than the most brilliant sallies of wit or imagination could have done. For every sigh that escaped Lord Osselstone found an echo in the heart of Augustus. The concentrated susceptibility of his natural disposition, and the peculiar turn of his education, had equally contributed to give a stability to his feelings, beyond what his age would have promised: impressions made on a mind so formed were not easily to be effaced; as the marble, though impervious to slight incisions, if once impressed, loses the form but with its own existence.

He had never known the endearing cares of a sister,--never had enjoyed the blessing of maternal smiles. In Selina Seymour alone all his first affections were centred, and as his matured reason watched her opening charms, his judgment sanctioned his love.

It was true, that in the vortex of dissipation into which she had lately been plunged, he had found something to reprove in her manners, and a great deal to deplore in her conduct to himself; yet with the lenity which belongs to true affection, he sought excuses for what he most condemned; and though with the resignation of despondency he had given up all hope of being dear to her, he did not endeavour to discover flaws in the chrysolite, because the precious jewel was not to grace his coronet. But the contending emotions of his soul preyed on his health; and in his faded cheek and saddened brow Lord Osselstone read the too plain indications of a grief smothered, but not subdued.

It was towards the end of July when the travellers reached Bonn, and the beautiful scenery in the neighbourhood of that town, where they first saw the Rhine, tempted them to prolong their stay in it for some days.

At length however they pursued their journey, and as the weather was sultry, preferred travelling in the cool of the evening. The shades of night are however little adapted to German roads or German drivers.

They had scarcely traversed half the distance between Andernach and Coblentz, when their postillions carelessly drove against the roots of a tree, and overturned the carriage. Fortunately neither of the gentlemen received any injury, but the accident occasioned a considerable delay, as the carriage was much shattered, and they were obliged considerably to lighten it of its luggage, before it could rea.s.sume its proper position. At last, after the drivers had indulged themselves in a variety of oaths and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, and the two gentlemen, aided by their servants, had made use of more effectual means of repairing the disaster, they were enabled to proceed, though at a greatly r.e.t.a.r.ded pace; and at last reached Coblentz, without further accident.

The master of the hotel, but too happy to receive once more "_Des milors Anglais_" as his guests, with alacrity provided them the best supper his house could afford, and the Earl and Augustus were congratulating each other on their escape, when the door suddenly opened, and Lord Osselstone's gray-headed valet burst into the room, rage and dismay struggling for pre-eminence in his countenance; "There, my Lord,"

bellowed he, "there, I knew how it would be. I told you you'd get no good by travelling in this d.a.m.ned country: they have robbed you; they have stolen it, that's all;" and he was leaving the room with as much precipitation as he had entered it, when his master called him back, to inquire calmly what was lost. "Only your red box, that I know you wouldn't part with for a thousand pounds." In an instant, to Augustus's inexpressible astonishment, he beheld Lord Osselstone's countenance convulsed with contending pa.s.sions--he started up, and seizing the trembling old man by the collar, "Find it, find it, villain, or never see me more," said he, in a voice of thunder; and with one thrust pushed him out of the door. Then holding his burning forehead with both his hands, he traversed the room with hurried steps, and soon retired precipitately to his own chamber. This scene was perfectly incomprehensible to Augustus; but instead of bewildering himself in conjecture, he, with his usual prompt.i.tude, immediately exerted himself to repair the loss which so much agitated his uncle. Conceiving it possible the box might have fallen out of the carriage when it was overturned, he instantly dispatched one of the postillions in search of it, offering a large reward for its recovery. After about two hours of suspense, during which time he did not venture to intrude on the Earl, the messenger returned with the lost treasure, which was almost broken to pieces. Augustus however joyfully seizing it, hastened with it to his uncle, who opened the door, and s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him in silence. But the box was so shattered that in doing so the bottom of it gave way, and most of its contents, consisting princ.i.p.ally of letters, fell to the floor. A miniature case rolled to some distance, and lay open on the ground. Augustus ran to pick it up, but on viewing it, exclaimed abruptly, "Good G.o.d! my mother! this surely is a copy of the portrait of her my father left me;" and turning with an inquiring look to Lord Osselstone, he perceived his lip trembling with emotion, the cold drops of agony bursting from his forehead, and his frenzied eyes fixed on Mordaunt, with an expression which made him shudder. "Audacious boy!" at last muttered the earl, in the deep tone of smothered pa.s.sion, "how dare you seek to know the sorrows of my heart?" Augustus, pitying his evident suffering, approached him, and laying his hand on his, with involuntary affection, said, "I do not seek to know them, I only wish to soothe them: consider me as a friend, as a son, who--" "Son!" exclaimed Lord Osselstone, shrinking from him with horror; "Son! G.o.d of Heaven! do I live to hear the child of Emma Dormer mock me with the name of father?

leave me," continued he sternly, "and never again blast me with your presence. Fool, fool that I have been to cherish the viper that stings my heart; your cradle was the grave of my happiness; and you have but lived to fester the wounds your parents made." Indignant at such unmerited reproaches, Mordaunt hastened to leave the room, but turning to take a parting look at his last surviving relation, who thus spurned him, he beheld the man, whose calm unbending dignity had so often awed the wondering crowd, trembling with unconquerable feelings, whilst the scalding tears chased each other down his face. He stopped--"I cannot leave you thus," said he; "to-morrow will be time enough to part." Lord Osselstone turned towards him in silence. The look was not to be misunderstood; and in an instant Augustus was pressed to his bosom. A long pause ensued. At last the Earl, wringing Mordaunt's hand; "Augustus!" said he, "I believe you sincere in the regard you profess for me: but beware of deceiving me." He stopped to recover himself, then proceeded, in a hurried tone: "When I was about your age, with a heart as warm as yours is now, and feelings even more susceptible, I fixed my affections on Emma Dormer. I believed her mind as faultless as her person; and loved her to adoration. She pretended to return my pa.s.sion; and her father was happy, nay eager, to see her share my t.i.tle and fortune. The time was fixed for our marriage; but two days before the one appointed for it, she eloped with the man she had the cruelty to tell me was her first, her only love. My own brother was my rival!" A deep groan burst from the Earl; at length, he continued, "I never saw her afterwards; though, when her extravagance and my brother's dissipation hurried them into ruin, she often wrote to me, _yes_, _to me_, for a.s.sistance; and I have the satisfaction of thinking, that I relieved the wretchedness of her who plunged my life in misery. She died four years afterwards, and my brother survived her but ten months. Even in death he wronged me; for, mistrusting my feelings towards you, he chose Sir Henry Seymour for your guardian. When I first saw you, Augustus, your hated likeness to both your parents froze my blood. When you came to Oxford, I was a constant though secret observer of your actions; and, prejudiced as I was, I thought I saw in your youthful follies and marked alienation from myself, the errors of your father's character hereditary in yours. Accident and time changed my opinion of you; and, contrary to my predetermination, nay, even against my inclination, my heart has once more been open to feelings of interest and affection; if I am again betrayed----however the poison will find its own antidote. Now, Augustus, good night.--Yet, one word more.--I charge you, as you value my friendship, as you regard my peace, never recur to this subject again--never recall the occurrences of this night."

It would be impossible to describe the various feelings this recital occasioned in the heart of Augustus. He retired to rest, but his thoughts were entirely engrossed by the Earl; and while he shuddered at the duplicity and ingrat.i.tude of his parents, he bitterly lamented his own precipitancy, which had led him so much to misjudge his uncle's character. When however they met the next morning, all trace of the storm had vanished. The surface of the wave, that had so lately been agitated almost to fury, was again calmly bright, if not transparent.

Augustus could almost have believed the scene of the night before was but a vision of his distempered fancy, had it not been for the silent and almost imperceptible pressure of his hand, which accompanied his uncle's first salutation.

One other change was also apparent. They had scarcely commenced breakfast, when Lord Osselstone sent for his valet, to desire him to make some other coffee, as his Lordship had just recollected that he always preferred what he prepared to any other. The alacrity with which the old man obeyed the command, showed how much he valued the compliment thus paid to the very point of his character on which he most valued himself, next to his talent for arranging full-bottomed periwigs, which he always contended were the most becoming dresses ever invented for young gentlemen. When he returned with the coffee, "There," said he, with a look of triumph, "I have taken pains with that, and you'll find it ten times better than these jabbering Frenchmen can make, here in the heart of Germany; but you'll get nothing fit to eat till you get back to Old England; I always told you so." His expostulations were however unavailing, as the travellers pursued their journey towards Vienna, where they arrived in the beginning of September. Not the most distant allusion was made by either to the confidence Lord Osselstone had reposed in Augustus, though the almost indefinable tokens of increased kindness, that now marked the Earl's manner to his companion, showed that, however painful the communication had been at first, yet his grief in being shared was lightened. As when the soft breath of spring dissolves the icy chain that binds the torrent, though it may at first burst in desolating fury, yet its streams gradually subside in peace, and glide in smoother currents, blessed and blessing on their way.

CHAPTER XIX.

Could I, not prizing thee, give thee my hand, I should despise myself--and how not prize thee?

oeLLOYDoe.

Immediately on their arrival at Vienna, Lord Osselstone commenced his researches after his brother; and, through the active exertions of the gentleman who had formerly been Reginald's banker, first ascertained the existence of Adelaide, and also other testimony concerning her and her father, that served most satisfactorily to corroborate the intelligence that now reached him from Ballinamoyle, as Mr. O'Sullivan, even more anxious than Adelaide herself to receive the sanction of Lord Osselstone for the child of his beloved Rose, had prevailed on Mr. Dermoody to be himself the bearer of the letters addressed to the Earl; and the venerable priest, with unwearied zeal, followed the travellers from London to Vienna, where he finally was more than rewarded for his anxiety by the cordiality and readiness with which both his Lordship and Augustus acknowledged her claims.

The purpose for which Lord Osselstone had undertaken this journey being thus accomplished, though in a very unexpected manner, he and Augustus immediately prepared to return to England, both anxious to be introduced as relatives to Adelaide, whom Augustus recollected having admired when he only knew her as the ward of Mrs. Sullivan, but for whom he now already felt the partiality of a cousin; and his description of her elegant person and captivating manners prepossessed Lord Osselstone in her favour, even more than the exaggerated, though sincere encomiums of Father Dermoody. He willingly accepted the Earl's proposal to accompany them back to London in his carriage, from whence it was settled he should hasten home for the purpose of escorting Adelaide to Osselstone House, provided she accepted her uncle's invitation of coming to reside with him for a few months, and that Mr. O'Sullivan could be prevailed upon to part with her. When they reached Calais, they found a packet ready to sail by the following tide for Dover, in which they secured their pa.s.sage; and Mr. Dermoody meantime profited by the opportunity afforded him by a few hours' delay, of visiting some of his early friends; whilst the Earl and Augustus beguiled their time in reading a variety of English newspapers of different dates, which their host procured for them.

They had not very long been thus engaged, when Lord Osselstone's attention was attracted by the evident agitation of Augustus, who, starting with a convulsive shudder, threw down the paper he was reading, and paced up and down the room with quick and uneven steps. Lord Osselstone glanced his eye on the rejected newspaper, and immediately attributed his emotion to the following paragraph:

"Viscount Eltondale left town this morning for Deane Hall, preparatory to the celebration of his Lordship's nuptials with its lovely and accomplished heiress."

For some minutes he only expressed by looks his commiseration for his nephew's feelings; but at length addressing him, "I own," said he, "I did not expect Lady Eltondale would have succeeded in her designs on Miss Seymour. I watched her closely and unremittingly while in London, and from some trifling circ.u.mstances I was led to believe, she would have made a far different choice. But my dear boy," continued he, with parental kindness, "though we have both been deceived, your misery is not aggravated as mine was. Do not despond; if Selina was capable of being either the tool or the dupe of Lady Eltondale, she was unworthy of you. Perhaps it is all for the best; perhaps the charming Adelaide you already so much admire, may yet repay you for all your sufferings."

Though Augustus was incapable of receiving consolation, or listening even to reason at the first moment, yet he could not long remain insensible to the deep interest Lord Osselstone's looks and manner evinced; and in unburthening to him his whole soul, he felt a temporary relief from the grief that oppressed him; and thus, from a strange coincidence of circ.u.mstances and similarity of situation, the only confidant of his pa.s.sion, except Mr. Temple, was the very man whose usual impenetrability of character repulsed all intimacy, and forbid even approach. Augustus, feeling the impossibility of communicating, even by letter, with Lord Eltondale on the subject of Selina's property, determined immediately to resign his charge as trustee, and was no less impatient for their arrival in London than his companions, in hopes, if possible, of antic.i.p.ating in that respect the hated marriage. The very evening on which they reached town, Augustus hastened to Portman-square, to inquire whether his Lordship were still at Deane. He there learned that the Viscount had left it a few days before; and the servant, with agonizing precision, informed him, that orders had that day been received for the house in town being without delay put in order, as his Lordship expected to be married immediately, and he believed he was then at Eltondale, making similar preparations. Poor Augustus scarcely heard the concluding sentence, and returned to Lord Osselstone in a state almost of distraction. "I will go myself to Deane to-night," said he; "most of the papers are there in my bureau. I may get in time to deliver them to Mr. Temple before Lord Eltondale returns there.--It will be my last visit."

In prosecution of this plan, Augustus left London that night in the York mail; and such was his agitated impatience, that he scarcely thought even that conveyance sufficiently rapid. Anxious to avoid being either recognized or impeded in pa.s.sing through the village of Deane, he alighted from the mail at a few miles distance from that place, and by a more unfrequented road entered the Park at one of the most retired gates. His feelings rose to agony as he again viewed all the well-known haunts of his infancy; and more especially when he recollected, that nearly at the same time the year before he had returned thither, to receive the dying benediction of the kind-hearted Sir Henry. Wishing to escape these sad remembrances, and desirous, if possible, to fly even from himself, he sprang forward, and darting into a neighbouring grove, was scarcely conscious of his near approach to the house. A rustling in the trees at last attracted his attention, and he turned towards the place from whence it came. In a few moments he perceived his favourite dog Carlo bounding towards him, and in an instant the faithful creature lay panting at his feet. A little basket, filled with chesnuts, was hung round his neck, in which, in former days, the dog had often carried the flowers Selina used to gather in their rambles. But almost before Augustus could caress him, Selina's voice calling "Carlo," thrilled to his heart, and springing from behind a fence with no less activity than the truant animal she pursued, she stood beside him like a bright vision of former days. "Selina!" "Augustus!" each exclaimed at once; and looks more eloquent than words told their mutual feelings.

But soon Selina endeavoured by language also to express her pleasure at once more beholding Mordaunt; and, forgetting at the moment all her disappointments, all her resentment for his apparent neglects, she gave her cordial and artless welcome with unembarra.s.sed joy. Not so Augustus.

Her unconcern he attributed to indifference, her evident happiness to her approaching marriage; and thus to his distempered judgment her vivacity almost appeared an insult. Selina quickly and resentfully perceived the coldness of his manners, and turning her head aside to hide the starting tears, invited him, with formal politeness, to accompany her to the house. But there the delighted Mrs. Galton was waiting to receive Augustus. She had seen him from the windows, and hastened to express her happiness at once more beholding him. The faithful old servants crowded round to bid him welcome. All congratulated him on his return to Deane, except its mistress. "And where has Selina flown to?" exclaimed Mrs. Galton; "we shall no doubt find her in her favourite room. Come, Augustus, I will introduce you, though you are already acquainted with it." His heart palpitated as he followed her through the well-known cedar hall, and up the ma.s.sy staircase he so well remembered. But what were his emotions when she led him into what was once their school-room, and had been afterwards his own study! Selina had fitted it up with every elegance of modern improvement, arranged with her own peculiar taste, and in it she had a.s.sembled her various occupations of work, drawing, music, and books.

When they entered, she was herself standing at a writing-table; her bonnet lay beside her, and her luxuriant hair, discomposed by her race, fell in loose ringlets on her shoulders; whilst the tear of wounded feeling stood on her beaming cheek. Augustus stopped, and casting his eyes around the altered room, "Is _this_ your favourite apartment, Selina?" said he, while love, joy, and grat.i.tude glowed in his countenance. "I sometimes sit here to enjoy the morning sun," answered she, blushing deeply; whilst his ardent and penetrating gaze increased her confusion. At last withdrawing the glance that evidently distressed her, his eye rested on the bronze _garde de feuille_, which represented Carlo. He took it up, and was examining it attentively, when Selina, with an expression of pique, observed, "That is scarcely worth looking at, Mr. Mordaunt; it is as trifling as the donor; I really forgot both, or I should not have kept it here;" and with an air of unusual dignity she left the room. "Incomprehensible, girl!" exclaimed Mordaunt, after a pause. "Tell me, Mrs. Galton, what am I to understand?" "Nothing,"

said she, "but that Selina refused Mr. Sedley, who gave her that dog: for the same reason she has since refused Lord Eltondale." "Refused Lord Eltondale?" repeated Augustus, quite bewildered. "Yes;" replied Mrs.

Galton, "his Lordship came here express, hoping to say _Veni, vidi, vici_; and proposed himself to Selina before he was three days in the house. Of course, even if she had been actuated by no other motive, she would have declined a proposal that could only be for her fortune, and she accordingly refused it almost with resentment. Lady Eltondale manoeuvred, and stormed, and raved, but to no purpose; and finally, much to our satisfaction, set off for Brighton." Mrs. Galton might have continued her discourse _ad infinitum_. Augustus had turned to the window to conceal his emotion. There he caught a glimpse of Selina pa.s.sing towards the shrubbery; seizing his hat, he rushed past Mrs.

Galton, exclaiming, "There she is!" She smiled, and took up her book; but anxiety scarcely permitted her to comprehend one word of its contents. At length, after an absence of two hours, which to her appeared an age, and to them a second, Selina and Augustus returned arm in arm. Mrs. Galton looked up through her spectacles, and guessing the result of their conversation from Selina's blushes and Mordaunt's countenance, "Thank G.o.d!" exclaimed she, clasping her hands, whilst the tears rolled down her cheeks, "I have lived to see my two dear children happy!"

Lord Osselstone was scarcely less rejoiced than Mrs. Galton, at receiving Mordaunt's letter, informing him of Selina's having promised him her hand. In his answer to it he said, "I have myself written to the very charming niece you are going to bestow on me, to express a part of the joy I feel on the occasion; but as I have much more to say on the subject, will you obtain her permission for me to pay my compliments to her and Mrs. Galton, in person, at Deane Hall, when I hope to make my peace with Miss Seymour, for having told you the story of Carlo's portrait, as you have no doubt already obtained her forgiveness for obtruding his little bronze duplicate into her cabinet."