Chap I.

On the coast of Cornwall is a
small village, situate on a rising
hill, which commands a view of
the sea. A chapel, built on the Vol. I. B sum- B1v 2
summit, is its principal edifice; thither
did the hearts of its humble inhabitants
repair to invoke the mercy
of their Creator, and oft did they
implore him to protect such of their
friends and relations as were exposed
to the boisterous element below
it. Nor was this the only purpose
to which this simple building
was adapted; frequently did its white
front borrow aid from the moon,
and served as a land-mark to the distressed
mariners, who were driven
within its view.

This B2r 3

This village, which I shall call
Birtland, might have been justly described
as secluded from the world.
No proud lord usurped its happy
domain. No legal plunderer attended
to settle those trifling differences
between man and man, which without
such interference, might be soon
adjusted; but which, when applied,
frequently proves worse than the
evil. At Birtland, the age of primitive
innocence still existed; at Birtland,
all was union and perfect tranquillity.

B2 Within B2v 4

Within two miles of this happy
village stood an ancient castle, formerly
the residence of the house of
Hastings. Many were the illustrious
Earls of Huntingdon who had
drawn their first and last breath
of life within its then peaceful
walls. Ever heir of that distinguished
title had signalized himself
by deeds of unbounded munificence.
They were as remarkable for their
benevolence and hospitality, as the
courtiers of the present age are for
their arrogance and boundless ambition.
At their door, never was the B3r 5
the tale of woe rejected, nor did a petitioner
crave in vain. The wealthy
and the indigent were equally unknown;
and the hearts and the purses
of these noble lords were ever open
to the tears of the unhappy. To
obtain their protection, it was necessary
only to solicit it; for no guileful
wanderer was ever bent his way to the
happy but retired castle of Ledstone.

Many centuries had passed in this
state of bliss, when time, which is
ever working miracles, (hitherto B3 fatal B3v 6
fatal to mankind!) stretched the cloud
of fate over this humble corner of
England. The last Earl of Huntingdon
died. His generosity had
over-reached his power, and his
estates were involved. That of Ledstone
was an object of too much
importance to be abandoned by the
rapacious creditors; it was therefore
agreed that it should be put up to
sale, and parted with public auction.

A gentleman, the son of a wealthy
merchant in the city, was the highest bidder, B4r 7
bidder, and to him was that property
consigned. He was a young man,
not possessed of very shining abilities,
who had been educated at Westminster-school,
and was thence sent to
Oxford. But study was ill adapted
to his taste; he left both these
places in disgust, and prevailed (but
not without difficulty) on his father,
to suffer him to pass two or three
years on the continent, by way of
giving a finish to his education.

It was soon after his return to
England, that he determined to marry,B4 ry, B4v 8
but he had frequently the mortification
to find his proposals rejected.
Money was no object to him,
as he was sure to inherit, on the death
of his father, a considerable fortune;
but he wished to ennoble his name,
hitherto best known upon ’Change,
and was at length fortunate enough
to succeed in his addresses, with the
only daughter of a new-created Irish
peer, who had been successful in his
claim to the title of his ancestors, and
whose greatest advantage was her
title.

It B5r 9

It was soon after this marriage
took place, that he became the purchaser
of Ledstone, which he knew
only by report, having never visited
the West of England. In London,
Lady Jane was equally a stranger.
She had passed her life in Dublin,
but remained unnoticed there until
her father was created an Earl. They
set out for London too soon afterwards
for her to fix her choice
among her old acquaintance, who
were many of them at length become
her new admirers.

B5 Mr. B5v 10

Mr. James Martindale was the
first monied man who solicited the
hand of Lady Jane; and to his fortune,
more than to himself, was she
immediately devoted.

Chap.

B6r 11

Chap. II.

Mr. Martindale hired a ready-
furnished house in the vicinity of
Portman Square; and on the fourth
of June, just five weeks after her
marriage, Lady Jane Martindale was presented at St. James’s. Her
person was rather handsome than
otherwise, and it was on this occasion
decorated with all the paraphernalia
of birth-day magnificence. To
be admired, it was necessary only
that she should be seen; and to her, B6 the B6v 12
the knee of adulation was soon bent.
The Earl of C―, on whom the
setters of matrimony sat lightly, was
her devoted slave for the evening;
and her eyes received an additional
portion of brilliancy, as her
conquests became multiplied.

In Mr. Martindale’s bosom very
different were the sensations which
arose on that occasion. He gazed
on the beauties of his wife, and his
vanity was flattered by their effect;
but his heart trembled as he viewed
her, and the pangs of jealousy racked his B7r 13
his foul. He endeavoured to appear
regardless of the admiration he saw
lavished on her; but by degrees he
drew nearer to the door of the antechamber,
and there waited with anxiety
the hour of twelve, at which
time his servants and equipage were
ordered to attend.

As soon as their arrival was announced,
Mr. Martindale hurried
Lady Jane out of the room, and attempted
to put on her cloak, which
a footman had given into his hands.
But Lord C― disputed with him this B7v 14
this office, and the rules of good
breeding obliged the husband to relinquish
it. Yet he could not avoid
perceiving a significant look, and a
squeeze of the hand, which each bestowed
on the other, as Lord C―
handed Lady Jane to her carriage;
and this was, to a weak mind, almost
proof positive of their guilt. But in
this idea he was wholly mistaken:
Lord C― had not entertained
an idea beyond the amusement of
the present hour, and Lady Jane
saw nothing in the emaciated peer
that could possibly turn her thoughts towards B8r 15
towards him on the succeeding
one.

The time now arrived when
every fashionable family prepared to
leave town. Lady Jane had already
made the acquisition of numberless
acquaintance, but her heart had not
selected a friend. It was almost a
matter of indifference to her whither
she went, and to her husband’s inclinations
she appeared willing to accede.

Mr. Martindale’s determination was B8v 16
was to go to Ledstone; but when she
heard of its seclusion, her heart recoiled
at the idea, and she requested
his approbation of a prior excursion
to Weymouth or Brighthelmstone.
He became however absolute in his
intentions; and as her father had
immediately after her marriage returned
to Ireland, it became necessary
for her to draw some one over
to her interests: necessity, rather than
choice, directed her to old Mr. Martindale.
He was exactly calculated
for such an employment. He had
been in his younger days a general admirer B9r 17
admirer of pretty women, and the
charms of his new daughter-in-law
lost nothing in his opinion. He perfectly
agreed with her, that to transplant
a large establishment into the
deserts of Cornwall, would be attended
with a heavy expence, besides the
probability that existed of their disliking
the situation, and speedily returning.
Lady Jane and the old
gentleman had many conversations
on the subject, and agreed to expostulate
warmly with Mr. Martindale,
whom however they had the mortification
to find inexorable. All they could B9v 18
could obtain was a few days delay,
and a promise that their stay in
the country should not exceed six
months.

Chap.

B10r 19

Chap. III.

In a few days, part of Mr. Martindale’s
retinue set forward on
their journey into the West. These
consisted of her Ladyship’s underwoman,
who was, during this Summer
campaign, to act also in the
capacity of house-keeper;—a French
valet;— a French cook;— a running
footman, and three or four more.
Every thing was there in readiness
for the reception of these noble and
novel guests; for the castle was inhabitedhabited B10v 20
by an old steward and his family,
whom the late Earl of Huntingdon
had stationed in it; and as they
had never received notice to quit the
premisses, they still enjoyed, in some
of the rooms at the end of it, peaceable
and quiet possession.

When these imitators of greatness
passed through the village of Birtland,
they were struck with the appearance
of its humble inhabitants;
who, mistaking them for their superiors,
crowded forth to bid them
welcome. The bells, though few in number, B11r 21
number, echoed these warm plaudits
of the heart; and every tenant, with
uplifted eyes, prayed Heaven to bless
them!

Stunned with applauses for which
they were unprepared, and which
they did not rightly comprehend,
they answered only by a loud laugh;
and arriving at the castle, where they
soon made themselves known, were
received with humble civility by
the worthy steward, his wife, and
daughter.

Mrs. B11v 22

Mrs. Drapery could not help
shuddering as she passed through the
spacious hall which led to the inhabited
part of the castle. The massy
door closed with a tremendous noise;
it resounded through the vaulted
roof, and petrified her with horror.
On the high arched windows of
painted glass, were handed down to
posterity the emblazoned arms of the
newly expired title of Huntingdon;
and the unwieldy armour which had
formerly defended the lives of its
illustrious wearers, now hanging up
and neglected, borrowed a faint light from B12r 23
from the feeble glimmerings of the
moon, scarcely seen enough to be
observed through the heavy cafement.

She requested to be shewn to the
apartment allotted her, where she
gave orders that her fellow-travellers
should attend. She expressed to them
the greatest disgust at every thing she
saw, and the utter impossibility there
was of her being ever able to accustom
herself among such Hottentots.
“She was sure,” she said, “that
all Mr. Martindale’s money would “be B12v 24
be but a poor compensation, if
Lady Jane was to linger away the
best part of her life in such an
odious retirement. She wondered
how he could think of bringing
an Earl’s daughter to such a
horrible distance from every thing
alive. For her part, she was sure
she could not stay there, and she
hoped to find that her Lady would
soon be of the same opinion.”

In less than a week, Lady Jane
and Mr. Martindale arrived at Ledstone.
When the loquacious Mrs. 7 Drapery C1r 25
Drapery saw the butler (to whom
she was by no means averse), she assured
him, that if she had not been
certain of his coming down, she
could not have prevailed on herself
to remain there a day after she had
delivered up her charge to her Lady;
for that the place was a desert, and
the evening winds were so rough,
that she already found her constitution
damaged by them; and it
was become absolutely necessary for
her to return to London, were it
only for the benefit of her health.

Vol. I. C Lady C1v 26

Lady Jane, and Mr. Martindale,
who saw nothing in their new habitation
otherwise than they had expected
to find it, passed several days
in visiting the castle and its environs.
Lady Jane was particularly
attentive to the narrations of the old
steward, who not unfrequently rubbed
his hand across his eyes, as he
dwelt on the praises of his late-loved
Lord. In a small closet adjoining
the hall, of which he had entreated
to keep the key, he was wont to
review and admire the tattered robes
in which Henry third Earl of Huntingdoningdon C2r 27
sat in judgment on the trial
of the charming and unfortunate
Mary Queen of Scots. These he
shewed Lady Jane, lamenting sorely
the day, that, in depriving the country
of its first ornament, robbed him
of his best friend—his only benefactor.

C2 Chap.

C2v 28

Chap. IV.

The mind of Lady Jane was
by nature susceptible of tender
sentiments, and of soft impressions;
yet her heart was as unconscious of
their primitive source, as of their
subsequent consequence; and she
had hitherto beheld every one with
general indifference. She however
possessed an immoderate degree of
pride and ostentation, and was
emulous to outvie all who dared
aspire to equality with her; assuming 5 a for- C3r 29
a forbidding air of loftiness, which
often offended the societies she lived
in. But, over-ruled at length by the
recollection of the more exemplary
conduct of some of the amiable part
of her female acquaintance in London,
and elsewhere, she in some
measure conquered that disagreeable
hauteur; and the tender and
growing impulse of nature beginning
to inspire her with ideas more consonant
to the texture of her disposition,
she became thoughtful, and rather
melancholy; deriving her chief
pleasure from wandering in unfrequentedC3 quented C3v 30
paths, and exploring and
forcing tracks through the mazy and
most intricate parts of the forest,
which lay at a small distance from
the park.

In one of these solitary perambulations,
chance had directed her
steps to the ruins of a very ancient,
and once capacious tower, situate
on the summit of a stupendous
cliff. Thence she could observe,
with the help of a small telescope
which she carried in her pocket,
the various objects which the ocean con- C4r 31
continually presented to her view,
and which, with their novelty and
variety together, became every day
more pleasing and interesting to her
fancy.

Mr. Martindale rose one morning
early in the month of September,
before his usual hour, to take the
diversion of shooting; his gamekeeper
having apprized him the preceding
evening of a covey of partridges
which frequented a wheat-
stubble near a pleasure-ground adjoining
the park; not that Mr. MartindaleC4 tindale C4v 32
discovered any more enjoyment
in the pursuit of rural pleasures,
than did his lady; but his time hanging
rather heavy on his hands, and
as she did not permit him to beguile
any part of it in associating with
those whom her own choice had not
approved, and pointed out as proper
companions for him, he was obliged
to seek amusement in quest of pleasures
which nature had not given
him either taste or inclination to
enjoy.

Lady Jane had risen at her usual hour, C5r 33
hour, and was preparing for breakfast,
when Mr. Martindale, tired of
his visionary scheme of pleasure, returned
heartily fatigued in the pursuit
of it.

The moment they had enjoyed
their early repast, Lady Jane with
eager steps precipitately bent her
way to her much-favoured spot;
which she had no sooner ascended,
than she instantly discovered through
her glass, a small boat making for
the shore; and excited by curiosity,
she advanced with deliberate attentionC5 tion C5v 34
down the sandy beach, towards
the edge of the water. As
the boat approached nearer her
view, she thought she perceived
in it five persons, together with
some casks which they had stowed,
and piled up in a regular pyramid,
in the stern of their little bark. The
tide having recently laved, and now
retired from, its beachy limits, had
caused the sand under foot to be exceedingly
wet; and what would have
wonderfully terrified Lady Jane at
any other time, and on any other
occasion, now stimulated her boldly to C6r 35
to venture on; and she walked, or
rather waded, almost knee-deep in
the briny ocean, till she came within
reach of the floating objects which
she had first discovered; but having
lest her glass within the tower, she
could scarcely distinguish of what
sex or age the persons were, until
they approached nearer.

They were soon securely landed
in a place where she had not
been accustomed to meet with human
beings (she having dedicated
this deserted spot to solitude, and her C6 own C6v 36
own reflections); and the unexpected
sight our mariners experienced of
a beautiful and elegant female, who
seemed to be lost in astonishment,
could not fail to excite in them an
equal degree of surprise. After some
little conversation, they requested to
be informed of the nearest town, or
village; having come, they said, on shore
for the purpose of procuring
fresh water for their vessel, a
small brig, bound from Greenock to
London, which lay at anchor at the
distance of about two leagues.

The C7r 37

The person who chiefly addressed
himself to Lady Jane, appeared to be
a military man, about fifty years
of age. He had a complacency of
manner which indicated the gentleman;
his countenance beaming that
ineffable sweetness which generally
bespeaks the mind at ease. This
gentleman introduced to her his
friend who accompanied him (the
other three were sailors, busily employed
in lashing the boat to the
remains of what had formerly been
a light-house). The dress of the
latter, who was many years younger, denoted C7v 38
denoted him a Highlander; and the
gracefulness of his mien instantly
caught the attention of Lady Jane.
She invited them both to the
castle, and promised to send servants
thence to render their men and boat
every assistance their situation required.

This proposal they thankfully accepted;
and inwardly congratulated
themselves on the novel and strange
adventure with which chance had so
far favoured them.

Chap.

C8r 39

Chap. V.

On their arrival at the castle, refreshments
of every kind were by
Lady Jane’s order set before her
guests. She enquired for Mr. Martindale,
but was informed by the butler
that he was gone out on horseback,
and had left orders to tell her
ladyship that he should return to
dinner by five. She apologized for
his absence, and entreated them to
relinquish all idea of going back to
their vessel with the evening’s tide;
observing, that the days were now short C8v 40
short and clouded—the nights long
and dark; and she farther alleged, that
their ignorance of the coast might
lead them into unavoidable difficulties,
and imminent dangers, which
she would by no means advise them
to encounter, and which would diminish
with the return of day-light.
She inwardly wished (but from what
cause she knew not) that Mr. Martindale
should see them, and approve
what she had done. She felt eager
to justify her conduct to him, perhaps
from a consciousness of self-
created uneasiness she had never beforefore C9r 41
experienced. Her fluttering
heart beat high with a desire of she
knew not what; and her faltering
tongue seemed almost deprived of
utterance, as her eyes involuntarily
and constantly met those of the young
and accomplished Caledonian. She
wished, she said, to detain them till
Mr. Martindale’s return; and even
when he did return, she feared the
day would be too far spent for them
to hazard with safety the attempt of
regaining their ship:— she at last
hinted to the elder gentleman, who
seemed anxious to depart, the kind of C9v 42
of impropriety there would be in
their going away without seeing him.
This objection had sufficient force to
counterbalance, in their minds, every
other.

Having drawn from them a promise
she too ardently wished, she requested
their attendance in the park
and gardens, whither they cheerfully
consented to accompany her. In one
of the walks she perceived by accident
that her dress had materially
suffered from her excursion on the
sands; she then left her visitors to the C10r 43
the care of the gardener, whom she
directed to point out to them every
object worthy their attention, and
proceeded to the castle to change her
clothes; desiring the gardener to reconduct
the gentlemen there, as soon
as their curiosity had been sufficiently
gratified.

On her ladyship’s return she retired
to her apartment, and ordered her
woman’s attendance there. The article
of dress, which had been neglected
since her seclusion in the
country, as matter of indifference, now C10v 44
now became an object of importance.
Mrs. Drapery was one of those accommodating
abigails who are ever
ready to flatter and encourage the
follies and vices of their employers,
and she neglected nothing on the
present occasion to adorn the person
of her lady; significantly adding,
“With what pleasure her master
would behold her ladyship at his
return home, looking once more
like herself!”

Before the etiquette of dress was
finally adjusted, Mr. Martindale enteredtered C11r 45
the room somewhat abruptly;
having been informed by the servants
of his new visitors, and wishing, previous
to his seeing them, to know of
Lady Jane who they were, and what
were the motives that had thus induced
them to take up their residence
in his house.

Lady Jane briefly related to her
husband each circumstance; contenting
herself with observing, that although
she had not enquired their
names, she was sure, from the little
she had seen of them, that they were persons C11v 46
persons of no inferior rank: she justly
remarked, that the laws of hospitality
were of themselves sufficient to justify
the hasty zel with which she
had pressed them to wait his return.
Mr. Martindale coincided with her
opinion, and left her to do honour
to his guests.

As soon as he was gone, Mrs.
Drapery, finding herself emboldened
by her lady’s visible embarrassment
(which together with the attention
to her dress had not escaped her),
begged pardon for informing her ladyship, C12r 47
ladyship, that she knew perfectly
well who the gentlemen were, having
enquired of the sailors, who had
satisfied her in every respect. They
were both, she said, Scots. The old
gentleman, whose name was Stuart,
had been many years Colonel of the
Mountaineers; but had retired from
the service about two years. His lady
was lately dead, and the loss of her
had taken such an effect on his mind,
that he had resolved to travel; and
a sea voyage had been particularly
recommended to him, as being the
most likely to recruit both his spirits and C12v 48
and his health. The young gentleman,
whose name was Glencairn,
was distantly related to the deceased
Mrs. Stuart, who had left one only
child, a daughter, now educating in
a convent at Calais. She was to
come over on their arrival in London,
and to return with them. Mrs.
Drapery indeed fancied, but it
was only her own conjecture, that
the Colonel had thoughts of uniting
the young couple; as the young
gentleman had no other reason for
coming over, than that of keeping
the Colonel company; and of returningturning D1r 49
with him to Scotland, as
soon as Miss Stuart should have
joined them.

Lady Jane was not so regardless
as she appeared to be of the information
given by her officious waiting-woman.
She, however, assumed
an air of composure she was doomed
never more to feel, and with hasty
steps joined the gentleman below.

Vol.I. D Chap.

D1v 50

Chap. VI.

Colonel Stuart had been in the
mean time equally communicative
to Mr. Martindale; he had considered
it as incumbent on him to introduce
himself and friend to his
acquaintance. Mr. Martindale, soon
after Lady Jane’s appearance, retired
to his dressing-room, whence he
sent to request her attendance for a
few minutes; when he informed
her, that she was not mistaken
in the favourable opinion she had enter- D2r 51
entertained of the strangers; and
proceeded to tell her all with which
Colonel Stuart had made him acquainted.
She did not think it necessary
to mention to him the conversation
she had held with her maid;
but pretended to listen with curiosity
to what he related; which differed
in nothing more than his
silence on the subject of Miss Stuart,
who she naturally concluded had
not been mentioned.

Lady Jane returned to the saloon,
where she surprised Glencairn drawingD2 ing D2v 52
sounds of sweetest melody from
Mr. Martindale’s flute, which lay
on the table. He laid it down when
she appeared, but by her desire took
it up again, and played once more,
at Colonel Stuart’s request,
“I wish I was where Helen lies!”
in a manner so peculiarly his own,
that Lady Jane, for the first time in
her life, felt the power of music over
a susceptible mind. She was at that
moment alive to the most tender
sensations; her soul vibrated to the
touch, and she felt a pang of exquisite
enthusiasm. ―He D3r 53
―He ceased;―and her eyes,
more expressive than her tongue,
solicited his continuance. He smiled
consent, and then played Absence ne’er shall alter me.
The words sunk deep into her heart;
her fine eyes glistened;―and she had
but just time to turn them on Colonel
Stuart, as Mr. Martindale entered
the room.

The conversation became general,
and dinner was announced. It was
a domestic party, and Lady Jane, being
without a female friend, had no D3 excuse D3v 54
excuse to leave the room when it
was over. Mr. Martindale and the
Colonel entered into a long conversation;
and the old warrior, seeming
for a moment to forget his griefs,
gloried as he recounted his former
exploits.

Tea, and less interesting airs on the
flute, beguiled the remainder of the
evening; and an early supper was ordered,
as our visitors were under the
necessity of departing by day-break.
Lady Jane gave orders that coffee
should be prepared for them, and after D4r 55
after an hour or two passed in social
delight, they reciprocally bade adieu!

The Colonel expressed to Mr.
Martindale his wish of meeting with
him in town; but said, that as he
might not be apprised of the time
when the Ledstone family arrived
there; and as he was ignorant also
in what part of it he should fix his
short abode, he begged of Mr. Martindale
to take the trouble to enquire
after him at the Duchess of G――’s,
in St. James’s Square, who would
be able to ascertain whether he still D4 remained D4v 56
remained an inhabitant of London,
or was returned (which was more
likely) to the sequestered mountains
of Scotland.

Lady Jane had no sooner retired
into her dressing-room, than she
gave orders to Mrs. Drapery (who,
as I before observed, now acted in
the double capacity of her woman
and house-keeper) to rise at a very
early hour, that nothing might be
wanting to complete the elegant hospitality
the strangers had experienced
at Ledstone. She retired to bed, but did D5r 57
did she retire to rest?―Ah, no!―The
image of Glencairn was before her;
she pretended drowsiness, and in secret
silence wept her cares to sleep.
Mr. Martindale, fatigued by the exercise
and events of the day, and
unconscious of the thorns of discontent
which invincible love had
strewed over his wife’s pillow,
“Snor’d out the watch of night.”

Lady Jane listened at day-break,
but she heard nothing. All was
hushed in profound silence. They
had departed an hour before
their appointed time: but they had D5 not D5v 58
not escaped the anxious vigilance
of Mrs. Drapery; who, fearful of
offending her lady by not seeing
them, and fearful also of her own
weakness should she trust herself to
sleep, had prevailed on her friend
the butler to pass the intermediate
time with her in the housekeeper’s
room, over a comfortable bottle of
madeira, which he was to provide
from the cellar as soon as the family
was retired to rest.

Mrs. Drapery, though a keen woman,
was by no means destitute of female D6r 59
female weakness; she reposed an implicit
confidence in the butler, and
at once informed him of her suspicions
relative to her lady, and the
young gentleman; who (she must
observe) was of a figure to captivate
any lady’s heart. She did not
know (or had not sense enough to
find out) that Mr. Oldson, the butler,
was warmly in his master’s interest;
not from any rash confidence
that hitherto insensible master had
reposed in him, but from a sense of
the lucrative place he enjoyed. Mr.
Oldson therefore made few commentsD6 ments D6v 60
on her observations, but treasured
up in his mind every circumstance
that might lead hereafter to a
farther ascendancy over Mr. Martindale;
as he had already prevailed
on him in many trivial occurrences,
which had turned out in the end to
his own advantage.

Soon after the bottle of madeira
was exhausted, Mrs. Drapery told
him she heard a noise; but she supposed
it to be too early for the strangers
to be thinking of their departure.
She however listened, and heard it repeated; D7r 61
repeated; it was, she said, the sound
of feet gently moving down the
great stair-case. Mr. Oldson listened,
but heard nothing. Mrs. Drapery
still persisted that she did hear
a noise; and as she had encouraged
the idea of ghosts haunting the castle,
she requested Mr. Oldson to accompany
her up the stair-case leading
from her room; at the top of which
they saw out five travellers ready
to depart. Mrs. Drapery’s eyes instantly
fixed on those of Glencairn;
who answered them by a sign that
he had something to communicate. It D7v 62
It was easy for her to turn Mr. Oldson’s
attention to the other side,
while she privately received from
his hands a guinea, and a slip of
paper carefully folded and sealed.
These she immediately conveyed to
her pocket, while Mr. Oldson was
making his bow to the Colonel, in
acknowledgement of what he had
from a very different motive conveyed
to him

Mrs. Drapery and Mr. Oldson
saw the travellers depart, and then
retired to their respective rooms. The D8r 63
The former cautiously placed her
pockets under her head, as fearful that
her secret should be discovered, and
by that means the confidence of her
lady be lost for ever.

Chap.

D8v 64

Chap. VII.

It was not difficult for Mrs. Drapery
to understand the use it was
intended she should make of both
the objects she had received; yet
she was not sufficiently mistress of
her lady’s thoughts to hazard a forward
avowal of her conduct in receiving
them. When she attended
Lady Jane in the morning, she could
not avoid perceiving that she had
been in tears; and she presumed to
enquire, with evident symptoms of affection, D9r 65
affection, “if her ladyship was unwell?”
At this unexpected question, Lady
Jane gave vent to her full heart, and
strove not to conceal her emotion.
She imprudently leaned on her woman’s
bosom, and, in apparent agony,
asked whether the gentleman were
gone, and if she had seen them?―
Mrs. Drapery told her that they
were; and that she had attended
them according to her ladyship’s order.
She drew by degrees the letter
out of her pocket, and entreated her
ladyship’s pardon for the liberty she
took in offering it to her perusal. She D9v 66
She assured her that she had no time
to return it after it had been put into
her hands; and that pity for the
poor young gentleman’s sorrow at
his departure had afterwards induced
her to secrete it, until she might see
him again.

Lady Jane took the letter with
seeming reluctance, and sound it to
contain the following words:

“ Be not offended, Madam, at the
presumption of a stranger, who,
till he saw you, never dreamt of “love. D10r 67
love. His profound respect for
your name and character will
condemn him to misery and future
silence; and he would not
have hazarded this liberty, had he
not read in your eyes an expression
of tenderness, which they have
too surely, and probably too fatally,
conveyed to the desponding heart
of Edward Glencairn.”

Lady Jane trembled as she read
the letter, which she immediately
conveyed into her pocket, and Mrs. Drapery D10v 68
Drapery delighted in the success of
her undertaking; for although she
felt that custom, and the laws of decency,
would require that she should
maintain her place as a servile dependant,
she from this moment considered
herself the bosom friend of
her lady; and, exulting in what had
passed, began to suppose herself the
appointed and convenient confidante
of every future action of her life.

From this unhappy period, she began
to exert the influence she had
obtained over the mind of her hithertotherto D11r 69
spotless lady; and availing
herself of an advantage common to
low minds, did not fail now and
then to remind her, by a gentle
hint, that she was in her power.
Lady Jane’s youth, and ignorance
of the world, induced her to be silent
where she might have been allowed
to complain; but her timid
soul was apprehensive of the injurious
construction her husband
might put on the adventure, and
she resolved to suffer in silence. She
had no wish, no intention to deceive
him; yet she sighed as she reflected on D11v 70
on the merits of Glencairn, whom
she despaired of ever seeing more.

We will now return to our mariners.
They had a tedious and rather
perilous passage to London, where
they landed in three weeks. Colonel
Stuart’s first care was to dispatch
a messenger to a mercantile house in
the city, whither his letters were addressed.
He received one from Miss
Stuart, earnestly requesting him to
go to her. She informed him that
her health had been for some months
gradually declining; but that she 3 had D12r 71
had hitherto avoided mentioning that
circumstance to him, waiting till she
heard of his arrival in London; alleging,
that she was sufficiently acquainted
with his feelings, to be
convinced that he had known her
situation sooner, he would have hastened
his journey from Scotland, probably
to the prejudice both of his
health and convenience.

Colonel Stuart had not seen his
daughter since her mother’s death,
as she had been near four years at
Calais. He spoke of her seldom; but D12v 72
but his thoughts often dwelt with
rapture on the idea of once more
folding his treasure to his heart,
and of retracing in her growing features
the resemblance of his lost and
lamented wife!―Alas! what were
the sensations he experienced at the
perusal of her fatal letter!―It was
a deep stab to his wounded mind,
and it became necessary for him to
call religion and reason to his aid, to
prevent him from immediately sinking
under the weight of it.

All that friendship could suggest― all E1r 73
all that the most tender sympathy
could invent, were on this trying occasion
warmly exerted by the amiable
Glencairn towards his unhappy
friend. He urged the possibility of
Miss Stuart’s being too easily alarmed
about herself; that the melancholy
inseparable from a monastic life had
probably induced her to give way to
ideas, which derived their principal
origin from her seclusion;―that the
most effectual means to be employed
towards promoting her recovery,
were to amuse her mind; which had
scarcely begun to unfold itself, ere
the event of her mother’s death, and
her father’s subsequent correspondence,Vol.I. E dence, E1v 74
stamped an impression on it,
that time, and a more suitable way
of life, would be (in his opinion)
alone capable to efface.

The voice of consolation insensibly
gained upon the Colonel; his misfortunes
grew lighter as he listened
to the advice of his friend; his heart
in a few hours recovered in some
measure its former serenity; and instead
of wasting time in deploring
the evil that threatened him, he endeavoured
to avert it by hastening to
join and cherish her, who, since the
death of his wife, seemed doubly
entitled to his care and protection.

Chap.

E2r 75

Chap. VIII.

Nothing material occurred during
their journey to Calais; but Glencairn,
to whom every object was new,
was surprised at the different scenes
that presented themselves. Often,
however, did his imagination retrace
the image of Lady Jane Martindale;
she was the first woman he had ever
beheld with emotion, and her expressive
looks had taught him to believe
that he was not indifferent to
her. He lamented both the cause E and E2v 76
and its effect, that had, by preventing
their continuing in London, deprived
him of being presented at the
Duchess of G―’s, where he could
obtain the only chance of the Colonel’s
hearing of, or seeing Mr. Martindale.
But these reflections he
was obliged to conceal; they remained
with his secret buried in his
heart, and he was under too many
obligations to the Colonel not to endeavour
(at least) to suppress them.

When they landed at Calais, and
had reached Monsieur Dessin’s hotel there, E3r 77
there, Colonel Stuart found himself
fatigued and agitated by his journey.
He requested Glencairn to go immediately
to the convent, with a
note from him to the superior, defiring
her to send Miss Stuart, with
the bearer, his friend. Glencairn
had formerly seen her; but it was
during those days of infancy on either
side, that had left but few traces behind
them. He delivered his letter
at the gate of the convent, and was
conducted to the parlour; on one
side of which, was a large grate;
and on the other side, a curtain that E3 was E3v 78
was drawn. In a few minutes it
was removed, and presented to his
view a form that nature had taken
pride in adorning.

Miss Stuart (for it was herself)
was the most finished picture of human
perfection. She raised her blue
eyes as he addressed her, and politely
requesting him to wait a few minutes,
disappeared to put herself in readiness
to accompany him.

She soon rejoined him in the parlour,
and they proceeded on foot to the E4r 79
the hotel. She accepted his arm,
and he perceived with extreme sorrow
that she had scarcely sufficient
strength to proceed. Yet she did
not once complain, but passed the
short time in making a thousand tender
enquiries about her father.

The meeting between them was
highly affecting; they were equally
sensible of the changes each other’s
looks had experienced, yet neither
dared to acknowledge that they perceived
any alteration. It was but
too evident that Miss Stuart was in E4 the E4v 80
the early stage of a consumption,
which appeared to be fast hastening
this beauteous blossom to a premature
decay. It was soon determined
that she should immediately leave the
convent; that the next morning her
expences should be paid there, and
her clothes taken away; and that
they should allow themselves a few
days repose at Calais, before they
fixed on any plan their inclinations
might for the present lead them to
pursue.

Miss Stuart had contracted an intimacytimacy E5r 81
in the convent with a Miss
Beaumont, a young lady of French
extraction, and somewhat older than
herself. The very slender fortune she
was to inherit, had induced her parents
to persuade her to take the veil,
to which she was perfectly reconciled.
Having lived in the convent since
she was six years old, she had not a
wish to see the world, but had partly
resolved to enter on her noviciate the
following year.

Miss Stuart called there the next
morning, and took leave of her friend. E5 They E5v 82
They agreed to correspond during
the remainder of their lives, and that
no interesting circumstance should
occur to the one, with which the
other should not become acquainted.

Our travellers had been near a week
at Calais, and Colonel Stuart thought
it time to fix their departure. But
whither were they to go? He wished,
for his own gratification, to return
home; but he thought it would be,
at that time, a wrong measure to adopt
on his daughter’s account. For this
he had a double motive: Winter was E6r 83
was setting in, and he naturally conceived
that the keen blasts of the
North would have too powerful an
influence over her delicate and affected
frame. He feared also, from
the exquisite sensibility he perceived
her to possess, that she might receive
a fatal blow to her peace, when, on
her return to her first home, every
object which appeared there would
remind her of its lost ornament, her
mother!―The Colonel had, since
her death, found a melancholy pleasure
in arranging everything at Allan-
Bank for her reception. All that E6 had E6v 84
had belonged to Mrs. Stuart, he had
collected carefully for her daughter;
but he had no idea of the faded form
he was to meet; he had seen her a
healthy, though delicate girl; and
he naturally expected to find in her
improved understanding, and formerly
lively disposition, the companion
best to sooth the anguish
of his mind, whenever he reflected on
the virtues of that incomparable wife
of which the grave had robbed him!

In the evening, when Miss Stuart
had retired to her apartment, the Colonel E7r 85
Colonel rang for another bottle of
Monsieur Dessin’s best Burgundy,
and imparted to Glencairn his reflections
of the day. He observed,
that having nothing to consult but
their respective inclinations, he had
entertained an idea of their travelling
South; that he thought his beloved
Mary’s health required change of air,
and he conceived it possible that
of Italy might restore it. She would
also derive many advantages from
such a tour, that were not to be
met with in Scotland. It would afford
her a fine opportunity of improvingproving E7v 86
herself in music, of which
she was passionately fond; and she
would by travelling gain a sufficient
knowledge of the world, to conquer
that awkward bashfulness, which
gave her a childish air of simplicity,
and which it would be necessary for
her to overcome before she presided
at his house, of which, alas! she was
now become sole mistress. Glencairn
could not with any propriety appear
to disapprove this scheme, and nothing
remained but to obtain Miss
Stuart’s approbation (of which they
could have no doubt); and that obtained,tained, E8r 87
they resolved to quit Calais,
and pass through Provence to Nice.

Miss Stuart was, as they expected,
pleased with the proposal; and nothing
was wanting to complete the
satisfaction of the party, but a more
cheerful acquiescence on the part of
Glencairn, who vainly endeavoured
to forget his predilection for Lady
Jane Martindale. He experienced
an inquietude hitherto unknown to
him, when he reflected on the impossibility
there now was of his communicating
to her his sentiments, and E8v 88
and the knowledge of his situation.
He dared not hazard writing to her
by the post; and though the sailors
had told him Mrs. Drapery’s name,
his respect and delicacy forbade his
addressing himself to her. He was
forced therefore for the present to
relinquish all hope of seeing, hearing
of, or writing to her; and he felt
the force of Rochefoucault’s just observation,
that
“Absence lessens small passions, and increases
great ones.”
For he never loved Lady Jane so
passionately at this moment,
while he despaired of ever seeing her
more.

E9r 89

Chap. IX.

The next day was employed in
preparations for their departure; and
on the ensuing morning they began
their journey in a berline the Colonel
had purchased of Monsieur Dessin.
They were attended only by a French
servant who had travelled all his life,
spoke a little English, and whom
Dessin had recommended.

I shall pass over every natural incidentcident E9v 90
that occurred to them, and observe
only that they reached Nice soon
after the time they had calculated to
do so; when, after passing a few days
at the hotel, they hired by the month
an elegant villa in its environs.

The Colonel had procured letters
of credit on the English banker
there, and they were all alike charmed
with their new situation. Their
servant Louis had been there frequently,
and was become their Proveditore-Generale.
Miss Stuart hired
a maid for herself, by name Josephine,phine, E10r 91
which, with an Italian cook,
completed their family.

Colonel Stuart was an independent,
though not a rich man. His
income had never been involved,
and it produced him from five to six
hundred pounds a year. He had no
one to provide for but his daughter.

With his protégé Glencairn it
was otherwise. He was an orphan,
without a friend in the world but
the Colonel, who (having been many
years intimate with his deceased father,ther, E10v 92
distantly related to Mrs. Stuart,
and who was a younger brother of
high birth, whose fortune perished
with his life) had adopted this child
of love, and promised never to desert
him. He adhered to his word, and
was sufficiently prepossessed in favour
of his young ward, to wish that a
future attachment might take place
between him and his daughter, that
his fortune might by their marriage
equally devolve on both. With this
view, he had spared no pains to cultivate
the mind of the young Edward,
who repaid his tender care with E11r 93
with all that filial duty and sincere
affection could bestow.

It was with this young couple, as
with all our untravelled islanders,
whose extent of European knowledge
carries them no farther than the
boundaries of England; every object
beyond Dover becoming a matter
of wonder. Thus it was with our
North Britons. Miss Stuart and
Glencairn were lost in astonishment
at every new scene which presented
itself to their view, and they seemed
to fancy themselves inhabitants of another E11v 94
another world. They were left almost
entirely to themselves; for
Colonel Stuart was a man of such
strict honour, and had withal so
much family-pride, what he believed
it impossible they should derogate
from either: his only apprehension
was, that neither possessed
sufficient confidence to explain those
mutual sentiments which he thought
must be inseparable from both. In
this opinion he was not altogether
mistaken. Their time passed away
in innocent delight; and Miss Stuart’s
health beginning visibly to mend, 8 they E12r 95
they amused themselves in visiting
every curiosity with which the charming
country they were now become
inhabitants of, abounded.

In the vicinity of Nice, innumerable
were the picturesque scenes
which met their ravished eyes. How
beautiful do the maritime Alps appear,
as they rise from the ocean!
from whence ascending by gentle
degrees, they form a superb amphitheatre,
bounded by Montalbano, projecting
into the sea, and over-hanging
the town. On the other side, where E12v 96
where prospects less stupendous allure
the eye, how charming do the
richly cultivated plains appear, while
they present to the view the vines,
the citrons, the oranges, the bergamots,
and every luxury which
Earth can furnish to her inhabitants!
―The gardens, which are during
the winter months equally profuse
of the sweetest flowers, convinced
them, that in that terrestrial
paradise the Lord of all had been
peculiarly bounteous, and that to be
happy it was necessary only to forget
every disappointment that had hitherto F1r 97
hitherto awaited them in this sublunary
world.

But how vain is every endeavour
to command the feelings of the human
heart!―They rise superior to
controul, and if they reign at all,
they reign with tyranny. Glencairn
must have been more than mortal, less
than man, could he have resided under
the same roof with the all fascinating
Mary, without feeling the
power of her improving charms.
He was not blind to them, but often
in secrecy lamented his wayward Vol.I. F destiny, F1v 98
destiny, which seemed determined
in spite of every opposition to separate
them through life. An idea,
prior to his seeing Mary, had taken
full possession of him. He had beheld
Lady Jane Martindale, and his
heart had vowed to her everlasting
love. He even cherished the certainty
of her husband’s not being
immortal; and he conceived it
possible for a time to arrive, nay, he
even believed it to be not far distant,
when he might return to England,
and claim her as his own.

How F2r 99

How visionary is every scheme of
future bliss, and how precarious are
the wishes of man!―He builds his
hope on a shadow; and scarcely has
he time to admire the fabric his imagination
has raised, ere it vanishes,
and his dream of happiness at once
disappears!

F2 Chap.

F2v 100

Chap. X.

We will now return to Ledstone,
where nothing material occurred
during the summer and autumn
months, more than has been mentioned.
Lady Jane and Mr. Martindale
lived peaceably together, seldom
contradicting each other, but
particularly agreeing on one point,
that of looking forward with pleasure
to the destined time of their return
to London. Lady Jane sometimes,
indeed, recollected Glencairn; but those F3r 101
those emotions she had experienced
at first seeing him, had subsided
into a languid indifference, and her
thoughts became every day more devoted
to the idea of the pleassures she
should enjoy in the gay metropolis.
She did not however neglect at times
visiting her favourite spot; but it
was now winter, and the coldness
of the weather prevented her sitting
there as formerly, watching the bosom
of the deep.

She was one morning returning
from it, and near the house, when F3 she F3v 102
she perceived Mr. Martindale coming
towards her with a letter in his
hand. His countenance bore the
visible marks of discontent. He took
her arm within his; and slightly observing
that he had something unpleasant
to communicate, but without
mentioning of what nature, they
proceeded to the library, where, without
hesitation, he read to her the
letter. It was from his father. It
first contained a few vague enquiries
after them, and then informed
them, that being at length tired of a
single life, he had resolved to marry a second F4r 103
a second time. He had partly, he
said, fixed his choice. The lady
(he observed) was not of a distinguished
family, neither did she possess
a brilliant fortune: but she had
many good qualities, and he had no
doubt of the approbation she would
meet with from his son and daughter,
to whom he hoped in a few
months to introduce her as his
wife. He neither mentioned her
name, her age, nor her person; and
of these, various were the opinions
they entertained. Mr. Martindale
highly respected his father, and F4 dreaded F4v 104
dreaded seeing him the dupe of what
he naturally supposed to be (from
the caution observed in the letter)
an indiscreet engagement. Another
motive too, and in some breasts it
would have been more powerful
one than it was in that of Mr. Martindale,
was self-interest. The old
gentleman had, on the death of his
wise, settled all his landed property
on his son; but he had a great deal
of ready money; five thousand pounds
of which he had given him on his
marriage, besides his mother’s jointure
of two thousand pounds a year, which F5r 105
which was, in case of Lady Jane’s
surviving him, to be her portion for
life. He had been indeed particularly
liberal on that occasion, having
presented Lady Jane with the late
Mrs. Martindale’s jewels, which were
of considerable value, and he had
purchased every thing for them, such
as equipages, plate, &c. &c.

It was impossible they could foresee
with pleasure an union which
would divide, if it did not wholly
alienate, the affections of Mr. MartindaleF5 tindale F5v 106
from his family. After they
had consulted together for some time
on the subject, they agreed to set out
for London with all convenient expedition.
Mr. Marindale answered
his father’s letter, but in terms almost
as equivocal as his own. He
expressed some surprise at the half
confidence reposed in him, and concluded
by wishing him every happiness
in whatever situation he might
hereafter find himself; but he did
not give the most distant hint of his
intention of going to town, which was F6r 107
was in hopes, if it were not already
too late, to frustrate the old gentleman’s
present intentions.

As they had no house there, they
were on their arrival obliged to put
up at an hotel; and had on that account
left all their servants, excepting
Mrs. Drapery and the butler,
at Ledstone. They had not been
there many minutes, before Mr.
Martindale sent for a hackney-coach,
and went to his father’s house in the
city. But how great was this astonishment,
when, on knocking at the F6 door, F6v 108
door, a footman in an unknown
livery appeared at it, and informed
him, that the house was now in possession
of another family; Mr. Martindale
having been married about a
month, and that he resided in Devonshire
Place!

Mr. Martindale smothered as much
as possible his indignation and surprise.
He directed the coachman
to return to the hotel, and give himself
up to his reflections on this first
instance of duplicity in his father;
for it was evident to him, that he was F7r 109
was actually married at the time he
wrote to him; and that the ceremony
must have been performed in
a very private manner, not a single
news-paper having announced it.

When he returned to Lady Jane,
and informed her what had passed,
he had the satisfaction to find that
her feelings were perfectly congenial
with his own: she persuaded him to
wait till the next day for father intelligence;
and amidst a thousand
conjectures―apprehensions―and
uncertainties―they passed the evening,
and retired early to rest.

F7v 110

Chap. XI.

Mr. James Martindale, at a seasonable
hour, dispatched his own
servant with a dutiful, yet cool billet
of congratulation to his father, requesting
to know at what hour he
might be permitted to wait on him.

Though it was but just two o’clock
when the valet was sent on his errand,
he found the crowd of servants
and carriages so great at Mr. Martindale’s
door, that it had more the appear- F8r 111
appearance of the Exhibition at Somerset-House,
than of belonging to
a citizen.

It was some minutes before he
could prevail on one of the footmen
to carry up the note he was intrusted
with. After waiting a considerable
time for an answer, a verbal one
was brought him by another powdered
coxcomb, which was simply
Mr. Martindale’s compliments, and
that he would call at the hotel within
an hour. Lady Jane was standing
at one of the windows of it about F8v 112
about four o’clock, when a sumptuous
vis-à-vis stopped at the door.
Mr. Martindale was sitting by the
fire-side, reading a new pamphlet,
when Lady Jane’s precipitate exclamation,
of “Good God! this cannot
be your father!” instantly drew
him towards her. They thought
they recognized his features, though
disguised under a small wig, made
to look like his own hair; which
gave so great an alteration to his
countenance, that is was impossible
for them at the first moment to ascertain
whether or no it was really him F9r 113
him they saw. They were however
soon convinced, as he hobbled out
of his carriage supported by two servants
in yellow and silver liveries:
the plain blue and buff, which had
been the family standard of many
years, was to all appearance discarded,
with the brown bob of former
and more respectable days.

Mr. Martindale received the congratulations
of his son and daughter
with much seeming pleasure; and
apologized with rather a disconcerted
air for the secrecy he had observeded F9v 114
towards them; alleging as his
reason for it, the apprehensions he
had entertained of their disapproving
his marriage; to which however he
was very certain no reasonable objection
could be stated, unless it was
that of a disparity of years; Mrs.
Martindale being extremely young,
and extremely handsome. He was
commissioned by her, he said, to say
a thousand kind things to them
both; and to assure them of her regret
at finding herself engaged not
only for that day, but for the succeeding
one; but she hoped they would F10r 115
would not refuse her the favour of
their company to supper that night
at twelve, after the opera, where she
was going. To this they assented,
more from curiosity than inclination,
and the old bridegroom took
his leave.

Mr. Martindale, in going down
the stair-case with his father, enquired
the former name of his mother-in-law;
but received a very
laconic answer, that it was Harvey;
of a family of the North of England, with F10v 116
with which he could not possibly be
acquainted.

He returned, and sat down in sullen
silence; but Lady Jane laughed.
She had no envy in her composition,
and was prepared to admire the superior
beauties of Mrs. Martindale,
without a wish to outvie them, or
to find them in any way inferior to the
old gentleman’s description.

At the appointed hour they went
to Devonshire Place. Mrs. Martindaledale F11r 117
was but just returned home,
having lounged, she said, longer than
she intended in the saloon of the
opera-house.

If her visitors were struck with
the beauty of her person (than
which nothing could be more captivating),
they were not less so with
the dazzling splendour of her dress.
A rich gold muslin, made into a Circassian
robe, with a turban of white
crape, ornamented with a profusion
of diamonds, gave her the appearance
of an eastern princess; but 2 there F11v 118
there was an air of levity in her
manner, that instantly caught the
attention of young Mr. Martindale;
who had scarcely beheld her, ere
his heart formed a wish that no violent
intimacy might in future take
place between her and his wife.
The more he saw of this youthful
bride (whose appearance did not
bespeak her age to be more than
seventeen), the less he liked her; and
while he drew her into a conversation,
in which he perceived that her
ignorance and self-sufficiency were
predominant, he pleased himself on the F12r 119
the comparison he could not avoid
making between her, and the less
beautiful, but more lovely and unadorned
Lady Jane; who having,
since the small portion of knowledge
she had obtained of her heart, lost a
considerable share of that pride
which had ever been her greatest
foible, was become infinitely more
interesting to society, and more amiable
in the eyes of her husband. In
her was blended all that increasing
sensibility could bestow on an intelligent
mind. Polite without flattery, she F12v 120
she every day gained on the esteem
of those who knew her. Mrs. Martindale,
by endeavouring to appear
the woman of fashion, for which she
was never intended, was at times
even vulgar; and her obscure origin
was not counterbalanced by the
graces of her mind. Nature had
been, it is true, profusely lavish on
her person; but her disposition was
avaricious and mean. She disliked
Lady Jane’s superior birth, but she
had cunning to dissemble; and endeavoured
to flatter her into a belief that G1r 121
that she had ever seen any woman
with whom she so much longed to
cultivate a friendship, as herself.

We will now take leave of this
family party for the night; they
parted, not without a voluntary offer
from Mrs. Martindale to break off
all acquaintance with those of her
society whom Lady Jane might not
approve. I will next inform my
readers who was Mrs. Martindale;
which, together with the little sketch
I have drawn of her disposition, will
in some measure enable them to accountVol.I. G count G1v 122
for the tenor of her future conduct;
at least, if they think as I do,
that a low mind never attains any degree
of excellence, however the person
may be exalted. The heart when
good is incorruptible, however the
mind may be over-ruled by the force
of custom and of example; but
when both these are bad, the stain is
indelible, and can never be expunged.

Chap.

G2r 123

Chap. XII.

Mrs. Martindale was one of the
many children of a respectable tradesman
in Newcastle, and on a visit to
her elder sister, married to a cornfactor
in the city, when Mr. Martindale
first saw her. He soon became
enamoured; for his heart was
not sufficiently frozen by age, to be
able to withstand the renovating influence
of youth and beauty. The
idea, however, of marrying her,
or any other woman, did not once G2 occur G2v 124
occur to him. The sister, who was
artful and designing, perceived his
inclinations, and determined to turn
his weakness to the advantage of her
family. She invited, or rather forced
him into all their parties; and finding,
after a few weeks, that he did
not make any overtures towards her
sister’s establishment, she told him
with much apparent concern, that
she found her sister’s character had
suffered materially from his constant
attendance on her; that she had lost
by it a very eligible marriage; the
gentleman (who was a young officer) having G3r 125
having withdrawn his addresses in
consequence of it, and that it was
become necessary for him to disclose
his intentions, of whatever nature
they might be.

This was a trial for which the old
gentleman was not prepared. He
hesitated, as undetermined what to
answer; till on being told that there
was no alternative between his marrying
Miss Harvey, or seeing her no
more, he was weak enough to wipe
the tears from his eyes, and in half-
broken sentences, extorted by fear, G3 as G3v 126
as well as love, he promised to
offer her his hand. In less than half
an hour he had consented to fall
into the snare that was laid for him.
The family desired the engagement
might be kept secret, in order to
avoid, they said, the ill-natured sarcasms
and reflections the world would
cast upon his age: but the truth
was, they dreaded the advice of all
his real friends, and hurried him
into a promise of hasty marriage,
without allowing him time to consider
what he had to expect from its
future consequences.

Having G4r 127

Having been thus prevailed on
without difficulty, he thought of
nothing but his intended bride. He
was profuse in his presents to her;
and on her mentioning that she
thought the city air inimical to her
health, he dispatched an agent, of her
sister’s recommending, in pursuit of
a house at the west end of the town.
This trusty and well-chosen ambassador
made choice of the one in
Devonshire Place; and so exactly
did he answer the confidence reposed
in him, that he actually made, in
Mr. Martindale’s name, an agreementG4 ment G4v 128
for the purchase of it; so that
no farther trouble was imposed on
the old gentleman, then to sign the
bonds which were two days afterwards
put into his hands. It was true
that he once accompanied the ladies
to look at it; but was there a fault
that he could possibly find with a
house fit for the reception of any nobleman’s
family? Could any house
be too good for Miss Harvey? Could
any expenditure that lay within the
compass of Mr. Martindale’s drafts,
be extravagant?

The G5r 129

The furniture of his house in the
city was to be the next consideration.
There was not enough of it, neither
was it sufficiently modern to be transplanted
into Devonshire Place. The
most fashionable upholsterer in town
was therefore immediately applied
to, and directed to change it as his
fancy directed. He was to be allowed
one thousand pounds, over and
above the value of what he took from
the city; and of which he, as the
most fashionable, and consequently the
most conscientious tradesman, was to
be sole appraiser. That furniture was G5 not, G5v 130
not, as I observed, suited to the present
taste, but it was costly in the extreme;
and was equally good, though
not equally ornamental, in the inferior
as in the best apartments. The late
Mrs. Martindale’s dressing-room was
fitted up in the most expensive manner;
innumerable were the rich ornaments
it contained; the beautiful
inlaid and Indian cabinets, the tall
mandarins, and fine China jars, were
not the most remarkable. The boxes
belonging to her toilette were, like
those of the rich, but narrow-minded
Lady S―, of silver inlaid with rubies; G6r 131
rubies; the bird-cages were of silver
wire, and every article displayed
grandeur, if not (according to modern
ideas) elegance. Some of these
Miss Harvey wished to preserve;
till a gentle hint from her sister reminded
her, that as they had been
the property of the late Mrs. Martindale,
who had doubtless set a value
on them beyond their intrinsic
worth, it was probable that, if they
were in her possession, her son might
wish to obtain them for Lady Jane
to keep in remembrance of her.
Nothing therefore was to be given G6 into G6v 132
into his hands, but a large portrait
of his mother, with which he was
to be favoured on his return to town;
Miss Harvey modestly observing,
that, conscious of her own unworthiness,
she should fear a rival in that
picture whenever Mr. Martindale
looked at it, as he would naturally
draw a comparison between his two
wives, which could not fail to be an
unfortunate one to herself.

The house was soon ready; the
jewels, wedding clothes, and equipages,
soon bought; and nothing remained G7r 133
remained but to fix the happy day,
which soon arrived. But the one
previous to it was marked by a little
event, which it may not be unnecessary
to mention in the next chapter.

Chap.

G7v 134

Chap. XIII.

On the morning preceding the
day that was to make Mr. Martindale
the happiest or most miserable
of men, he perceived that an unusual
gloom overspread the fine countenance
of his destined bride. He
pressed her hand to his lips, and entreated
to be informed of the cause.
She burst into tears, and suddenly
withdrew, leaving him and her sister
together.

From G8r 135

From her, he anxiously prayed
to know the meaning of so sudden, so
alarming a change; tenderly enquiring
if he had left any thing undone
by which it was possible for him to
prove still farther the extent of his
affection. The emotion too visible
on every feature of his face, and the
eagerness with which he conjured
her to explain in what he had offended,
forced at length, from this
tender relation, the avowal of a
conversation her sister had held with
her; which amounted to nothing
more than a childish idea that had entered G8v 136
entered her head; a kind of fear,
that if she was wretched enough to
survive Mr. Martindale, his son, unmindful
of his father’s tenderness,
might divest her of all his goodness
had lavished on her. He might possibly,
in the end turn her out of her
house, and take possession of it, as his
heir. It was not (she was very sure)
from any mercenary motive that her
sister had encouraged this thought;
it was that of a young girl fond of
magnificence as child of a new
toy, and like that, fearful of losing it.
This was sufficient hint for the too G9r 137
too generous and too credulous Mr.
Martindale; he sent immediately for
his attorney; and gave him instructions
to draw up a marriage settlement,
by which he gave her the
house in Devonshire Place, with all
its appendages; together with all the
ready money he should die possessed
of, stocks, dividends, &c. &c. &c.
allotting only one thousand pounds
of it as a legacy to Mr. Martindale,
of Lady Jane if she survived him;
his landed property having been, as I before said, already settled on his
son.

In G9v 138

In a few hours all was signed,
sealed, and delivered; and he expressed
his gratitude at being told
how to remove the imaginary grief
that had for a moment been suffered
to prey on her, to whose happiness
he was determined to devote the remainder
of his existence.

The next morning the sun shone
resplendent on the nuptials of Mr.
Martindale. They were solemnized
as agreed on in a private manner;
and in the evening he conducted his
bride to her own house in Devonshire
Place.

They G10r 139

They had been there about a
month, when Lady Jane and Mr.
Martindale arrived in town. Mrs.
Martindale had already formed the
acquaintance of almost every fashionable
family there. For, as I have read
in scripture, “Wherever the honey is,
there will the flies be also”, so is an
open house, a sumptuous equipage,
and all the other appendages of
wealth, the sure passport to an intimacy
with the whole world. Innate
virtue is no recommendation;
nor is any other requisite necessary
to support the appearance of it, than the G10v 140
the acquiescence of a husband to the
conduct of his wife. However his
delicacy may be wounded―however
his feelings may be hurt by her failings
―let him but continue to live
with her in a routine of extravagant
dissipation, and the feeble voice of
slander will be drowned in the loud
plaudits of the world. But, if he forsakes
her, though she be “as chaste
as ice, as pure as snow,” she shall not
escape the torrent of calumny, which
will inevitably overwhelm her reputation.
A woman’s fame depends less
on her own character, than it does on that G11r 141
that of her husband. If he discards
her, the world will also, without enquiring
why he has done so.―She
will look for friends, but she will never
find them. They gay companions of
youthful pleasures will shrink from
distress, as from a pestilence; and
she will woefully experience, that
the fine day, Flattery, will not stay to
assist the weary in a cloudy night.
Alas! her day will soon set in darkness
―her breaking heart will be
overwhelmed by the storms of adversity,
until in some obscure corner
of the earth she dies unknown―unpitied
―and unlamented!

G11v 142

Chap. XIV.

Mrs. Martindale soon gained a
complete ascendancy over her doting
husband, which was strengthened by
her apparent attachment to Lady
Jane, who continued to be so great
a favourite with him, that her sanction
seemed necessary to every thing
she undertook. She had art enough
to twist herself round the heart of
that lady, who reposed in her an unlimited
confidence, and they became
inseparable. They met with universalversal G12r 143
admiration; but their manners
were so different, that the admirer
of the one was seldom that of the
other. Mrs. Martindale’s beauty and
levity attracted the notice of all the
gay men, while Lady Jane’s increasing
sensibility gave her an air of
froideur, that forbade them every
hope of encouragement.

Mr. Martindale, senior, though
extravagant in the gratification of
his wife’s pleasures, was not wholly
unmindful of his son’s interests. He
purchased a small house for him in G12v 144
in Argyle Street, to which he was
prompted by his wife.

Lady Jane believed her to be only
the artless, giddy girl she appeared.
Little did she suspect the snake she
was fostering in her bosom, which
waited only with the envenomed rancour
to sting her beyond the reach
of human remedies.

Among the crowd of fluctuating
admirers that paid their devotions at
the shrine of beauty, Lord Darnley
was the most conspicuous for his atten- H1r 145
attentions to Mrs. Martindale. He
was lately married to a very young
lady, whose large fortune had been
in part appropriated to the payment
of his lordships early debts. He
was fond of his wife, yet not sufficiently
so to lay any embargo on his
inclinations whenever they led him
to indulge a momentary caprice.

He considered Mrs. Martindale an
easy conquest, which, when once
obtained, would be soon forgotten.
With this view he laid close siege to
her at every public place she frequented;Vol.I. H quented H1v 146
nor did she give his lordship
any reason to doubt the success
of his enterprise. Vanity was her
ruling passion, and to that she was
ever ready to sacrifice every moral
consideration. Lady Jane either did
not, or would not perceive this
growing intimacy; she conceived
Mrs. Martindale’s levity to be her
best security against any attachment
of the heart, and she felt no alarms
on her account.

Lord Darnley was rather an elegant
than a handsome man. Perfectlyfectly H2r 147
versed in every lesson of love,
he had seldom met with a denial
where he had once taken the pains
to ingratiate himself. He was at
this time busily employed in raising
a regiment of light dragoons for the
service of his country; and a desire
of rendering himself conspicuous according
with his notions of patriotism,
he spared no expence to complete
it. Seldom a day passed in
which his emissaries did not inveigle
new victims to satiate the rapacious
thirst of ruthless war! His lordship,
equally a candidate for the field of H2 Mars H2v 148
Mars and of Venus, divided his time
between both. His morning hours
were devoted to the misery and ruin
of many poor and worthy families;
his evening ones to the more pleasing
amusement of endeavouring to
seduce the affections of any woman,
to whom he might wish for the moment
to render himself agreeable.
Not that I mean to infer, that Lord
Darnley was a bad man, he was only
a fashionable one. Nursed in the
lap of luxury by the most indulgent
mother, his earliest wishes had not
been left ungratified. He had been 2 returned H3r 149
returned from the continent about
two years, where his extravagance
was so unbounded, that it became
necessary to recall him; and he had
been married, one year, to the amiable
lady before mentioned.

Mrs. Martindale was elated by
Lord Darnley’s attention to her.
Her eyes sought him every where,
and he perceived it; not was it long
before an opportunity offered, that,
in making him master of her person,
banished the slender impression she
had made on his mind. He met H3 with H3v 150
with little or no resistance when he
hinted at a private assignation; which
being fixed, and effected at the house
of her convenient millener, passed
without suspicion among her attendants.

Lord Darnley was no sooner a
happy lover, than he was a satiated
one. He had never seen any woman
but Lady Darnley for whom he had
conceived a sentiment beyond that
of momentary passion; and had she
not been his wife, it is most probable
that in her alone, all his inclinations would H4r 151
would have centered; but how
strange it is, that every thing loses a
portion of its value from the moment
we have an indisputable claim on it!
The virtuous Lady Darnley, who
has not a particle of coquetry in her
disposition, had married the man of
her choice, nor had she a wish
equal to that of pleasing him. We
might be led to suppose from the
remark I had just made (and from
that only), that had he been more
steady in his conduct towards her, she
might have been more indifferent.
She knew that he had errors, but she H4 did H4v 152
did not know the extent of them;
and she fondly hoped, that her unremitting
attention to his happiness,
and constant propriety of conduct,
would at length overcome them.
She knew Lady Jane, and Mrs.
Martindale, by report only; her approaching
confinement, which she
expected every hour, keeping her
constantly at home, without other
society than her mother, who was
come for the first time in her life to
London, for the purpose of attending
her at that trying moment.

When H5r 153

When the newspapers announced
Lady Darnley’s delivery, Mrs. Martindale
pleased herself with the idea
of monopolizing his lordship’s constant
attendance; and having mentioned
to her husband the polite attentions
that Lady Jane and herself
had received from him, signified her
intention of sending him a card for
the next evening she should receive
company, and of introducing his lordship
to his acquaintance. To this no
objection could be made, and Mrs.
Martindale took an early opportunity
of dispatching invitations to several H5 of H5v 154
of her acquaintance, among whom
Lord Darnley was not forgotten.

Lady Jane, who had suspicion
of what had passed, and who really
liked Lord Darnley, though she had
not particularly appeared to do so,
was glad of this opportunity of
bringing Mr. James Martindale acquainted
with him also; and of becoming
by these means known to
Lady Darnley, when her confinement
should be over.

Mrs. Martindale’s assembly was bril- H6r 155
brilliant in the extreme; for she had
been very particular on that occasion,
and had herself selected from her
visiting-book, such names as stood
foremost in the gaudy catalogue of
rank.

At the appointed hour, she saw
her rooms fill to her heart’s satisfaction,
but in vain she looked for Lord
Darnley!―She grew inattentive to
her visitors, walked successively thro’
the rooms, and looked continually
at her watch, which she fancied lost
time. She could not account for his H6 absence. H6v 156
absence. It was on his account she
had that evening assembled all that
was most fashionable in town, and
had studied to raise her consequence
by the selection of her company;
yet he was the only person who did
not appear. At eleven, the party
began to disperse; the duchess of
G― and her lovely daughters
were just taking their leave, when
Lord Darnley was announced.

The sudden appearance of the sun
breaking through the thick clouds of
a misty morning, could not convey a more H7r 157
a more genial warmth to the dewdamp
traveller, than did the sight of
Lord Darnley to Mrs. Martindale;
her eyes brightened as she led him
towards Mr. Martindale, who received
him with the utmost politeness.
But the electrical shock of
mortification instantly succeeded,
when, in a voice scarcely articulate,
he enquired for Lady Jane. There
was an air of sorrow and confusion
in his countenance, that it was not
possible for her to misconstrue. Mrs.
Martindale had more pride than
love; and with a haughty sneer turninging H7v 158
hastily from him, she informed
his lordship, that she had last seen
Lady Jane at cards in the adjoining
room. He immediately went there.
The party had just broke up, and she
was standing near the door (waiting
for Mr. Martindale, who was
gone to enquire for the carriage),
when Lord Darnley approached
her. He took her hand, with a freedom
she had never observed in him,
and in a faltering voice whispered
“―Oh Lady Jane, in you I hope
to find a friend!―” Struck at his
appearance, which indicated a sensibilitybility H8r 159
of which she had not hitherto
supposed him capable, she eagerly
asked, what could have thus affected
him? The tears rushed into his
eyes, and he could only say “Lady
Darnley”―as Mr. Martindale informed
her their carriage was up.
She returned hastily to wish Mrs.
Martindale good-night; introduced
Mr. James Martindale to Lord Darnley,
who handed her into it, and
they parted for the night.

Chap.

H8v 160

Chap. XV.

Lord Darnley did not return up
stairs, but desiring that his servants
might be called, threw himself into
the carriage, and ordered it home.
His heart was affected, and for once
he sacrificed the rules of politeness
to its feelings. When he arrived
there, he flew to Lady Darnley’s
apartment, without having spoken
to any one; but alas! little did he
expect the scene that awaited him!
He knocked gently at the door, fearfulful H9r 161
of disturbing her repose: but receiving
no answer, he opened it.
The curtains were all undrawn. On
one side of the bed, he saw her mother
grasping her hands; on the
other, the nurse was chasing her
temple with hartshorn;―but she,
alas, was gone for ever!―A moment
convinced him of the fatal truth;
the next that succeeded it, deprived
him of his senses.

It was on the ninth day after Lady
Darnley’s delivery of her first child.
Some unfavourable symptoms had appeared H9v 162
appeared in the morning, but they
were not sufficiently so to alarm the
physicians, or nurse, of any immediate
danger. Yet a fatal presentiment
had taken possession of Lord
Darnley from the first hour since her
lying-in; and this was strengthened
by some oblique, yet gentle hints that
had been given him by the angel of
purity herself; who had unfortunately
stopped her carriage one morning
by accident at the door of Mrs.
Martindale’s milliner, where she
bought some things, and gave a
card, with the orders that others should be H10r 163
be sent to her. The officious Frenchwoman
told her, the she was sure
she must be beholden to Lord Darnley,
or Mrs. Martindale, for the honour
of her ladyship’s custom, as she
was that lady’s milliner, and had
frequently seen his lordship at her
house.

I do not believe that this French
milliner (or indeed any other milliner)
could plead ignorance in such
a situation. She could not suppose
that Lord Darnley (whose name
had been mentioned to her by Mrs. Martin- H10v 164
Martindale) had met that lady there
secretly, and in a private room, for
any good purpose. No. But the
discovery of the intrigue to Lady
Darnley might prove in the end
beneficial to her, and she was not of
a nature to reflect on the delicate
feelings of a woman of honour. These,
were therefore to be sacrificed to her
own mercenary and barbarous disposition;
and she planted a thorn in
the breast of that spotless lady; it
festered there, and was her companion
to the grave.

Lady H11r 165

Lady Darnley had a few days
after the birth of her child, which
was a daughter, most earnestly implored
her lord to promise her
that he would never neglect this
only pledge of their love. She conjured
him to cherish her for her mother’s
sake; as she had imbibed, she
said, a strange idea, that her first
child would be also her last. She
gently added (squeezing his hand,
and convulsed almost with agony as
she spoke), that she hoped he would
in future point out to her a better
example than the Mrs. Martindale whom H11v 166
whom she had never seen, but of
whom she had heard more than she
thought proper to reveal to him, till
after her recovery. Lord Darnley
with truth declared, that he had
never been in Mrs. Martindale’s
house; that he had only formed a
slight acquaintance with her at different
public places; but he did not
mention the French milliner, nor
any other circumstance that could
tend to corroborate their intimacy.

On the day that he received Mrs.
Martindale’s card, he was half inclined6 clined H12r 167
to shew it Lady Darnley; but
her weak health and spirits prevented
him. Yet he had no just ground
to suspect her approaching dissolution.
Her physicians had not, as I
said, even hinted at danger; and if
his mind was painfully awake to the
apprehension of it, he could impute
it only to those fears which a timid
superstition, and not reality, had induced
him to give way to. He told
her that he was engaged to an assembly
that evening, but he did not say
where; and his acquaintance was so
numerous, that without the help of the H12v 168
the milliner, or some of her confederates,
Lady Darnley could not
have suspected it to be at Mrs. Martindale’s:
she however did suspect
it, and received private intelligence
of that lady’s house being open the
same evening, and that Lord Darnley’s
carriage made one of the number
at her door.

When the messenger who was
sent to enquire into the truth of this
unwelcome news returned from executing
his commission, Lady Darnley
insisted on seeing him; nor could the I1r 169
the tender entreaties of her mother
prevent her from diving into the
truth. Her disorder (inseparable
from her situation) had that day
taken a turn, and marked her death
as certain; she received the information
of it with all the fortitude that
a mind already wasted to heaven
could experience. She desired Lord
Darnley might be immediately sent
for; and her footman, eager to obey
the orders of his much-loved lady,
hastened on the wings of anxiety to
meet his lord. But when he reached
Devonshire Place, he heard only that Vol.I. I he I1v 170
he had been there for a very short
time, and was returned. Lord Darnley
was at home a few minutes before
his servant; but it was already too
late for him to catch the expiring
breath of his lovely, his virtuous,
his already sainted wife!

His grief became unbounded; he
kissed her pale lips, and invoked
the God of Heaven to witness the
integrity of his heart!―He had been
guilty of errors, he felt he had, of
fatal ones; but little did he imagine
what would be their dreadful consequences;quences; I2r 171
for, in the first paroxsyms
of phrensy, he condemned himself as
being sole author of her death. He
ordered his little girl to be brought
into the room, and kissed her with
an enthusiastic and fervent affection.
He joined her little face to that of
her senseless mother; and pointed
out each resembling feature. It was
a solemn, an awful scene; and he
was at length forced out of the room;
his expressions of grief becoming so
violent, as to threaten with injury
his own health.

I2 Lord I2v 172

Lord Darnley would not be told,
nor suffer himself to reflect, that an
over delicate constitution had soon
surrendered itself to a malady, which
was so powerful as to baffle every
effort of art. To this was to be imputed
Lady Darnley’s early death.
His feeling heart taught him first to
consider his own misconduct; and
he alternately upbraided his child,
and himself, as the authors of their
irreparable loss.