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Isolina, or, The actor's daughter

page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 0 (TitlePage) IS0LINA; H i' ACTOTRS DAUGHTER. * 1 ' H PH LADELPHA: ' Jo B. LIPPINCOTT & 0OO - 18X3. page: 0-3[View Page 0-3]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 0-3 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. ISOL I NA. CHAPTER I. "Methought I sate beside a public wayy Thick strewn with summer dust, and a great stream Of people there was hurrying to and fro, Numerous as gnats upon the evening gloam; All hastening onwards, yet none seemed to know Whither he went, or whence he came, or why." SHELLEY: The Triumphs of life. THE summer had been unusually hot, and the London season more than usually gay; the middle of July was past, but Parliament had not yet risen, and Hyde Park was thronged each evening with carriages full of, ladies, displaying every luxury of dress, every caprice of fashion. Fair young girls, with a select number of matrons, and gentlemen of all ages and conditions, from the ci-devant minister to that minister's ciJdevant tailor, paced, trotted, ambled, and cantered up and down Rotten Row, present- ing various examples to illustrate the noble science of equitation; whilst beneath the shace of the old trees, or leaning against the low paling which separates the pedestrians from the carriage-road, were assembled idle loungers, admiring the brilliant 'scene, criticising the horses and their riders, and exchanging a nod. or word of recognition with a passing friend. On benches beyond, women of the middle or lower classes 'were seated, their children sprawling on the sunburnt grass, as the parents could not afford either time or money to remove them from the hot, heavy, dust-impregnated atmosphere of' a London July. (3) page: 4-5[View Page 4-5]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 4-5 ISOLINA. Amidst the number of gay bonnets, one bright little face attracted especial notice; it belonged to a girl of not more than fifteen vyears of age, who, though tall and slender, had the rounded cheek and innocent expression which are only seen in extreme youth. Her complexion had that delicacy peculiar to the climates of England and Holland, and the clear blue eyes, the rosy mouth, and pearly teeth were rendered more brilliant by a profusion of chestnut- colored hair, which seemed to have caught the glow of sunset as it fell in rich curls from beneath the brim of her straw hat upon her white dress. The simplicity of her attire was the more striking from the contrast it pre- sented with the silks and satins, feathers and artificial flowers, worn by every other lady; and not the least with the gorgeous brocade of the portly, middle-aged ma- tron who filled two-thirds of the carriage, whilst a fat little lapdog of King Charles's breed squatted before them on the opposite seat. As the carriage drew up at the gate of Kensington Gardens, the steps were let down by a tall footman in gay livery, with powdered head, and cane in hand; and the ladies proceeded to join the promenaders beneath the noble avenue of trees skirting the Park. There was something almost melancholy in the sight of a bright young creature condemned to walk primly beside the stately dame, who moved, or rather sailed, onwards, with a countenance expressive of little beyond pride and self- importance, or with smiles, like her steps, measured by rules of conventional propriety. - But the lovely face, and the thousands of pounds sterling in expectancy of the little maiden, already attracted numerous admirers, and signs of recognition, in eager though formal bows, were bestowed every few minutes, until, reaching a select group of ladies and gentlemen, both mother and daughter were surrounded, and shut in from the vulgar gaze. They were, at length, safe, within the prescribed circle of their friends. It is- difficult for a foreigner to comprehend the divisions and subdivisions of English society, which are neither regulated by congeniality of mind, nor by assimilation of manners, nor by respect for character; and it is equally , - } - ISOLINA. 5 :A difficult to trace the cause of this strong caste feeling which exists in a nation politically free. Wealth, fashion, rank, beauty, talent, genius itself, though each may claim admission into certain circles, can never aspire to be re- ceived on a footing of perfect equality by those privileged beings who are lucky enough to count a given number of names among their ancestors in the herald's office, or who, as Charles the Tenth of France tersely expressed it, "sont ne's." Mrs. Herbert and her fair young daughter Alice were received, but not acknowledged to belong, to the sphere of those among whom they now moved; and though the mother would have treated such an assertion as an insult, the pains she had taken to enter within the precincts of that exclusive circle, and her triumph when she had achieved the object of her ambition, were tacit acknowledgments of inferiority. Mrs. Herlert's father had made his fortune in trade, and had been created a baronet on the occasion of a royal visit to his native city, where he occupied the honorable position of mayor. He had purchased a large estate, and by his benevolence and by the wise distribution of his wealth, he had contributed to the happiness and moral as well as material welfare of hundreds in his employ- ment. We often, however, esteem our possessions only by the value set on them by others, and the daughter and heiress of this truly noble-hearted man would have pre- ferred her father to jave been nobler in his pedigree than in his life. Though she gave her hand to a neighboring country gentleman, who had likewise made his fortune by commerce, she had never ceased to strive for a posi- tion in high society, which she had at length attained. Left a widow whilst still comparatively young, Alice, her only child, the heiress to two properties, was already the aim of fortune-hunters, and entitled to what her mother considered a good marriage. We must now return to the group in Kensington Gar- dens, where Mrs. Herbert was engaged in conversation with an elderly duchess, whilst a fashionable gentleman, rather past his youth, addressed some good-natured small talk to Alice. lThis gentleman was one of those younger sons of a wealthy family whom poverty on a thousand a page: 6-7[View Page 6-7]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 6-7 6 ISOLIZA. l year had doomed to celibacy, and to lead a busy, idle life about town. Though not remnarkable for ability, he was lively, and agreeable, with much of that gay tinsel of su- / perficial knowledge which readily imposes on the igno- rant, whilst his acquaintance with all the latest gossip, political and social, and his perfect good hunror, made him popular with the 'young and old in quest of amuse- ment. "Have you heard Grisi this season?" he inquired of Alice Herbert. "No, indeed. I was so disappointedl the night mamma allowed me to go to the opera, she had a'cold and could not sing." "So you are not one of those young ladies who go every-night? It was very hard upon you. Then you have never heard Camelli, either? He was the greatest genius we have had on the stage since the - Kembles; and such a voice, too I It is a pity we have lost him.2. "Lost him I Has Camelli, then, finished his London engagement? and I have not heard him!" exclaimed a young lady, who formed one of a group of pretty, lively girls between the ages of' eighteen and five-and-twenty, who were flirting with two or three insipid-looking youths; whilst the objects they desired to attract ap- peared to be divided between the pleasure of gratified vanity and disgust at the trouble of being obliged to drawl out aresponse to their fair worshipers. The young lady's question was answered by a brisk midshipman of seventeen, who did not look as-if he could ; ever reach the age of dolce far niente, and who had been engaged in discussing the merits of a rowing-match be- tween Oxford and Cambridge with the heir to a duke. dom, fresh from the first-named university. "Camelli I the fellow who dropped down dead on the stage last night?" "Dead!" exclaimed the. young lady again. "How very shocking!" "And he was such a, charming Figarol" remarked, another. "We shall never see any one like him again," said ISOLINA. Alice's friend. "What a pity that M6u never heard him!" he continued, addressing her. I Alice looked as if she wished that she had. "Were you in the theatre at the time, Mowbray?" in- quired the young nobleman. The youth who had informed those present of the' occurrence, only waited to be asked to give an account of all he had witnessed; he described how the unfortunate actor was singing one of his most lively airs in his most celebrated part of Figaro, when he fell d"wn in a fit, and was carried off the stage, breathing his last a few minutes afterward , / "I wood bet any money the .fellow was drunk," was the commet passed by the young noblemanyho had asked the question. "My dear Castleton, whom are you' talking of?" in- quired the duchess, who had exhausted her conversation with Mrs. Herbert, and now made a diversion by turning to her son. 7 We were only speaking of the actor Camelli, ma'am, who dropped down in a fit last night on the stago., Il"How horrible! What a shock for the -audience I I am glad fwas not there. Those sort of people lead such irregular -lives, itis only wonderful that scenes of the kind do not occur more firequently."' "Camelli was, however, an exception to the rule," said the middle-aged gentleman. "He bore a rare character for sobriety; I had a slight acquaintance with him, and I happen to know he belonged to a good Italian family. His real name was Michieli,-old Vesetian nobles: there was at least one Doge in the family. There is also a romantic story about his marriage." v "Oh, do tell us about it, Mr. Fanshaw Hyou know everything and everybody. I was sure there was some romance about Camelli, he was so handsome and inter- esting," exclaimed several young ladies almost in a breath. "Probably, Mowbray, you know his history better than I do," replied Mr. Fanshaw, "as your family was in some way connected with it." Mowbray, however, disclaimed all knowledge of the page: 8-9[View Page 8-9]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 8-9 8 ISOLINIA. story, and Mr. Fanshaw proceeded. "The lady was English, an attorney' daughter, in---" "An attorney's daughter! Oh, Mr. Fanshaw, that spoils all!" "My story is a true one, so it cannot be helped: she was an attorney'S daughter." "Beautiful, of course?" "Of course; though I had not the honor of her ac- quaintance; but from her childhood she was much in your grandfather Lord Elton's house, Mowbray," Mr. Fanshaw continued, turning agtain to the young midship- man. "It is very possible; rather too many years ago for me to remember." "Camelli was engaged to act in the theatre at Wood- ford. The attorney had a passion for the stage, and fancied himself an authority; he was the terror of all the actors who visited the town, as he was a great man with the Woodford press. He undertook to patronize the for- eigner; he invited him to his house, and the daughter, falling desperately in love with the handsome actor, made advances, which were not rejected. The young lady was not only pretty, but rich, as the father was the wealthiest man in Woodford, and she his only child. The attorney was furious, and turned the lover from his door. A run- away marriage followed. Camelli dared not show his face again in Woodford, and, what was worse, be was obliged to take the lady without her fortune, as her father cut her off to a shilling." "I cannot perceive anything extraordinary of romantic in an actor marrying an attorney's daughter," remarked Mrs. Herbert, contemptuously; x "and I cannot imagine what interest such people can excite." "The mesalliance was certainly made by Camelli," -said Mr. Fanshaw. A hardly perceptible smile curled the lip of the duchess as an awkward pause followed, just sufficient to recall to the mind of every one present who happened to know the fact, that Mrs. Herbert's own grandfather had been a country attorney I Mrs. Herbert felt a conscious blush rising to her cheeks, and was vexed with herself at this ISOLINA. 9 involuntary betraval of what she most wished to be for- gotten. She reminded Alice of the hour being late; watches were consulted, and the group separated: some returned home to dress for dinner and the opera; others hastened to the club to hear the latest news and to dis- cuss the most r6cherche of dishes. Mrs. Herbert and her daughter drove home in silence, each lost in her own reflections. As Alice sat down that evening to practice her music-lesson for the follow- ing day, the piece she happened to open was a selection from Il Barbiere di Siviglia: her mind naturally reverted to the late conversation, and she was less intent on the task before her than on thoughts of love and marriage, and of death intruding amidst scenes of pleasure. CHAPTER II. "O Memory! thou fond deceiver, Still importunate and vain, To former joys recurring ever, / And turning all the past to pain; Thou, like the world, the opprest oppressing, Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe; ' And he who wants each other blessing, In thee must ever find a foe." GOLDSMTH. ON that same hot July evening, the lody of the actor and opera singer, Camelli or Michieli, was conveyed to his residence, a small villa on the bank of the Thames. The news had reached his widow early in the day, and she sat waiting the arrival of her husband's corpse, stunned with the blow, and retaining only a dim con- sciousness that a great change had suddenly come over her whole existence. * During many a preceding. London season Camellis . talents' had night after night attracted a numerous and brilliant audience, and his wife had read triumphantly the columns of the daily papers, which were filled with praises of his voice, his person, and his genius. But it page: 10-11[View Page 10-11]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 10-11 10 ISOLINA. was as the devoted husband and father that Canmelli had proved his real worth, and the happiest hours of his life had been spent conversing with his wife, reading aloud passages from English or Italian poets, instructing his only child, or joining in her games of play; they spent their summer evenings rowing on the river, when he would delight both his wife and young daughter by sing- Ing snatches from the finest music of Mozart, Beethoven, Rossini, or Bellini. At the very hour when his wife was accustomed to listen for his footstep on the threshold, the glow, heavy tread of the men who were carrying his remains fell upon her ear. She shed no tear as she fol- lowed them up the stairs, and, unobservant of their looks of pity, passed them as they descended. The house seemed to her full of strange sights and sounds, and, though she wished to be alone, it was with something like cold dread at her heart that she heard the door close softly on the last intruder into her home; her hand rested nervously on the handle of the door, which she vainly attempted to turn; but when the servant came to her assistance, she bade her leave her, and keep "the child" away. As the light from the half-closed shutter 'streamed upon the bed, she uttered a faint cry, shut the door hastily, and all was again silent. The maid ran down-stairs in search of the child, and called to her to continue playing in the garden: there was no reply; for how could that child play when she knew that her mother was watching beside her dead father? The evening sun sent its ruddy glow on the smoothly-i shaven grass of the lawn, which sloped towards the river, aLd the old elm at the foot spread a broad brown shadow over the quiet waters near the bank. A little! girl of about nine years of age was seated in a boat mooren to the edge; her large hazel eyes, swimming in tears, were fixed unconsciously on a majestic swan sailing down the centre of the river, its snow-white plumages delicately tinted with a rosy hue from the last rays of the sun. She was a very lovely child, and with the promise of still greater beauty; her pouting lips and dimpled chin were quivering with a suppressed sob, and the clear brown of the rounded cheek, shaded by the long / - ' l0 INA. , " dark lashes, was paler than usual; the dark hair, cut short like that of a boy, displayed to- advantage her fore- head and finely-moulded features, with the form of her delicate little throat: there was a singular force of ex- pression for one so young in the rapid motion 6f the nostril and the contraction of the brow, telling of a heart too full for utterance. Her father's favorite dog lay at her feet, a powerful animal from the Campagna of Rome, and, as -he looked at her with his soft brown eyes and nestled close to her dress, it seemed as if #e had under- taken her care and protection. The voice of the maid calling to her again from the house roused the child from her reverie. Instinctively obeying, she left the boat, and walked slowly up the lawn, followed by her shaggy companion. "Where have you been, Miss?" asked the servant, in a sharp, querulous tone. "I'm sure if I haven't been a-looking for you this half-hour. Missus told me as how you was to play in the garden, and not come in-doors whilst she was sitting by your poor dear papa; but it's too late by far for you to be out now." "I am coming in now, Rebecca." "It's very chilly here; I don't think your mamma would mind you coming in; but the dog had better stay out, He's all over mud, and would dirty the carpet with his feet; besides, miss dear, he would disturb your poor dear mamma, and it's best for her, you see, to be left quiet just at present." "I know what mamma would likp as well as you do, Rebecca, and Lupo shall come in. She will like to see him. Papa loved Lupo." Her voice faltered for a moment; then, bidding Rebecca go in, witta little as- sumption of authority which, child as she sa, did not sit ill upon her, she slowly followed. She feltortified and hurt that her mother should have desired tome alone and had forbidden her to come near her at a time when she thought herself most necessary. As she walked up the lawn, each object, however trivial, however familiar, attracted her observation as it had never done before, and appeared to have acquired anew value; the flowers her father had planted, the wheelbarrow he had made for page: 12-13[View Page 12-13]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 12-13 12 ISOLIN A. her with his own hands, and which, the evening before, had been carelessly thrown aside, the bench on which she and her mother had sat at their- work when last he read to them, awoke a thousand tender recollections, only to remind her that all which had made her young life bright. belonged to the past. She could never again have that fondling hand laid on her head, or hear the affectionate accents of pride in her works, her words, her looks; she could never again make him smile, and the accustomed morrow would never return : all was so nesw, so strange, she seemed hardly to comprehend her own existence, and memory only made the present appear more utterly desolate and miserable v If there is a greater power of renovation in :the young, there is also a pros- tration of sorrow, which in after-life would be insupport- able unless by habits of duty, as well as the conviction that death is but a passage of our existence, not a ter- mination,-a temporary separation, not thseextinction of love,-which strengthened and sustained our sinking spirits. Pushing aside the curtain which shaded the twilight, the little girl stepped into the small drawing-room just as her mother was entering by a door opposite. Mrs. Camelli's disordered dress and hair,--which had turned nearly white in that single day,-and her vacant eyes, dreary and dry, told more than words of the shock she had undergone. Her child uttered a piercing shriek of terror, and, as she threw herself on her neck, she brought the first flood of tears to her relief. Long did the mother and daughter sob ifitach other's arms, till, yielding to entreaties, Mrs. Camelli allowed herself to be led up- stairs by that little hand, and to return beside the bed she had just quitted: There they knelt together, and gazed on the still features of him they had loved with equal though with different affection. Both left the room calmer, and slept-in each others arms until daybreak.- ,The painful duty of arranging the funeral had been undertaken by .the Rev. Mr. Bryant, the clergyman of the parish. He had long known Camelli, and had esteemed his moral worth even more than his genius. He was likewise acquainted with the history of his early I. I SOLrNA. 13 life and marriage. The father of Mrs. Camelli, the attorney of the country town of Woodford, had been a schoolfellow and friend of Mr. Bryant, who himself for- merly held the living of Woodford, which wds in the gift of Lord Elton: he had therefore likewise known the widow as Louisa Newton, and when, at two-and-twenty, I her romantic attachment to the handsome young Italian actor patronized by her father had led her to make a runaway marriage. Mr. Newton never forgave his daughter; and when he died, a few years later, it was discovered that he had bequeathed his whole property to tt a nephew who had settled in Australia. Mrs. Camelli had to depend for her support on her husband's earnings; and though Camelli had likewise offended his family by adopting the profession of an actor, his success was such- as to- make .it probable that, in time, he would amass considerable'wealth. His wife asked no questions; she ; had as full a reliance on his prudence as on his affection; neither of them thought of death as near, and they had only one child for whom to provide. The beautiful little villa on the Thames which he had hired was his para- dise on earth, and he iwould often tell his wife and daughter that when he :Would grow old, he would take them to a still lovelier country, which they must learn to love, as he had learned to love theirs. page: 14-15[View Page 14-15]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 14-15 " ISOLINA. CHAPT III. "Is all the counsel that we two have shared, The sister's vows, the hours that we have spent When we have chid the hasty-footed time PFor parting us,-oh, anl is all forgot? All school-rday friendship, childhood innocence?" SHAKSPEARE. AFTER the last sacred duties had been performed over the remains of Camelli, Mr. Bryant was anxious to ascer- tain the precise state of his- poor friend's affairs, and to learn if he could be of use to his widow and orphan.- There was only one other friend to whom Mrs. Camelli might have applied in former days; but Mr. Bryant was aware that since the time of her marriage all intercourse tad been broken off between Louisa Newton and the playmate of her childhood, the Honorable Ellinor Mow- bray. One fine afternoon, some thirty years before the date of this story, the attorney's only child lost hler way in Lord Elton's park, and by chance met that nobleman's daughter walking with heir governess. 'The two little girls were nearly of the same age, and they took a child- ish fancy to each other, which the attorney was not slow to promote by every means in his power, whilst Lord Elton was ready to gratify every wish of, his favorite child, who had but recently lost her mother. As Lord Elton was much absorbed with politics and frequently absent from home, and as his only son, who was two or three years older than his sister,had been sent early to school, Ellinor Mowbray led a monotonous and almost solitary life. The companionship of a little girl was therefore quite a boon to her. Mr. Newton, who was Lord Elton's man of business, was requested always to bring his daughter with him when he visited the Pines. The visits were gradually prolonged from a few hours to 7 ISOLINA. 15 a couple of days, and afterwards to weeks. Louisa, too, was motherless. She was gentle and complying, whilst Ellinor, with a stronger will, more courage and ability, and with likewise warmer affections, adored her new friend. If she now and then tyrannized, she as often re- pented; and in her eagerness to make amends she sub- remitted to be, in her turn, the slave of a feebler intellect. Her imagination created an idol in little Louisa, and the reflection of her own ideas in her friend was mistaken by her for originality and superiority in her companion. Ellinor's governess instructed the little girls together, "and their friendship grew, uninterrupted, with their growth, until, at the age of eighteen, Miss Mowbray was taken up to London to be launched into the gay world, and soon became the constant companion of her father, even sharing his political anxieties. The correspondence between the young ladies, which was at first daily, became soon weekly, and, finally, was dropped to longer intervals. Each had discovered new interests in her path of life, and the entire diversity of mind and character of Miss Mowbray and Louisa Newton prevented the maintenance of that perfect understanding or sympathy which had been the offspring of a romantic friendship between two young girls before they had had any opportunity of proving to themselves the unreal foun- dations on which it rested. The girl of weaker character, - though feeling herself most aggrieved by the inconstancy of her friend, was most easily reconciled to her loss, and, until she needed her assistance, thought little'of Ellinor Mowbray. The stronger character, amidst' absorbing pursuits and pleasures, had never wholly awakened from her dream of the perfections of Louisa Newton. I:er conscience frequently reproached her with unkindness, which she knew not how to amend, and the weariness she felt at the insipidity of Louisa's letters was imputed by her to a fault in her own character, rather than to any defect in her friend. Lord Elton and his daughter were absent from Eng- land when Louisa Newton eloped with Signor Camelli. They were first informed of the occurrence by letters from friends who had always disapproved of the intimacy page: 16-17[View Page 16-17]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 16-17 16 ISOLINA. with the attorney's daughter, and who therefore placed the transaction in the least favorable light. Whilst throwing out hints of the imprudence of unequal friend- ships, they further expressed a hope, since Miss Newton had thus transgressed all bounds of propriety by her marriage with an actor, that the connection would be broken off entirely. Many years afterwards Ellinor Mow- bray recalled the evening when these letters reached her, and when, seatted on a lovely bank overlooking the Bay of Naples, her father read them through deliberately for the second time, and, turning to his daughter, said,- "Now, Ellinor, what are we to do? Are we to for- sake poor little Louisa without hearing what she has to say for herself? I am afraid it is a bad case for your friend." "Surely, papa," Ellinor replied, "if she is in distress, if all turn from her, we, who first invited her friendship, should not quite abandon her d' "But an actor, Ellinor!" "Well, papa, he may be a respectable man." "Not very likely. I do not wish you to write to her, or see her when we return. -No doubt she now thinks herself happy; she may awaken out of this illusion, poor child I Her father is a hard man: I have good reason to know it. We will not lose sight of her, Ellinor; and if ever she is cast down by misfortune, we will not forsake her." EIIinor's conscience smote her as her father spoke, for he seemed to have more charity for her friend than she herself. She was even conscious. of a sense of relief in the thought that Louisa Newton was married that*he would be happy in her new life, that she would no longer want her, and that by her mis'nduct she had forfeited all claim to intimacy, though notto kindness. But Lord Elton, who could not appreciate the weariness his daugh- ter had experienced in Louisa, only saw a pretty, inno- cent little creature in her former companion and friend, in whom he had never ceased to feel an interest since he first saw her at the Pines. His discovery -of the mean and harsh conduct of her father towards some of those dependent upon him, had only made him pity the un. ISOLINA. lt offending daughter the more, and had perhaps suggested excuses for her conduct he would not have otherwise admitted. On their way home from Italy, Lord Elton was seized with a severe illness at Genoa, and before friends could reach them from England he died, leaving his daughter stunned by the blow. During his last days he again reverted with sorrow to the fate of the poor girl, whose prospects in life he sincerely deplored. With her heart softened by recent grief, Ellinor, on her return, inquired. for Mrs. Camelli, and received every information from Mr. Bryant, the clergyman beneath whose pulpit she had often satt as a child with little Louisa Newton by her side, and whose new living, with a larger emolument than that of Woodford, enabled him to extend his sphere of usefulness. He- resided within a short distance of Mrs. Camelli's home, and thus could send Miss Mowbray frequent news of her old friend; and he was able to give her a most satisfactory account of her husband, and of the- happiness of her married life. Mr. Bryant, how- ever, did not feel justified in urging her to renew an inti- macy which would have been adverse to the wishes of her relations. Ellinor returned to society, and- found herself borne along in a whirl of engagements in town and country, so that visits, dress, and politics, the last opera and the last novel, with now and then a work of a more abstruse nature, if it happened to be the fashion of the day, occupied her whole time and mind. Often, after listening to Camelli's voice at the opera, and hearing his genius extolled and his respectability vouched for, she resolved to seek out her friend; but as often she was deterred from fulfilling this resolution by other considera- tions or other engagements. Year after year, season after season, passed, and- still Ellinor Mowbray and Louisa Camelli had not met. When Mr. Bryaat paid a visit to the bereaved family, a few days after the death of Camelli, he soon discovered that the widow was. even more ignorant in matters of business than he could have supposed possible.' Her mind, naturally weak, had been still more enfeebled from want of exercise, and from the habit of always resigning page: 18-19[View Page 18-19]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 18-19 18 ISOLINA. her judgment to that of another. She had never culti- vated habits of self-control, and had even learned to be- lieve that her unrestrained expression of feelings in them- selves innocent had gained the admiration and love of him whom she most desired to please, and who, had regarded her with an indulgence more like that of a fond parent for a petted child than of a husband for a wife. Camelli had neither exacted nor desired from her con- siderations of duty; she was, therefore, wholly unpre- pared to meet the time of trial. "You are very good, Mr. Bryant; I feel most grateful; believe me," said the poor widow, whilst large tears from eyes swollen with weeping coursed one another down her-flushed cheeks. "But what can I do? No one surely would have the heart to turn us out of, our home. I can't leave it: it is all his work; all I shall ever have now on earth which I can associate with--' And a fresh burst of weeping checked her words. The little girl sat with her. arms clasped round her mother's,waist, and joined i-n her sobs, whilst Lupo laid his broad nose on Mrs. Oamelli's lap, and looked wist- fully up -in her face. Mr. Bryant rose, walked to the window, and stood there a few minutes, to allow the lady time to recover her composure, whilst he considered how he could best persuade -her to attend to business. Time was of importance : Camelli had left debts, though MrsJcnt was ignorant of their amount, or even of the names of the creditors. After a few minutes he re- turned to his chair. "My dear madam," he resumed, "Heaven. knows how deeply I feel for you in your great, your irreparable loss. I beg you will calm yourself, and give me your attention for five minutes. It is, I know, painful for you, and it is most painful for me to have to urge you, to turn your mind to worldly matters; but they must not- be de- layed,-for the sake of your child,-his child " "I would make any sacrifice for Isolina," ejaculated Mrs. Ca lli, whilst her da hter gave her a fond embrace, nd looked up half reproachfully at their friend. / "I am7 not asking for any sacrifice; I only request ISOLINA. 19 that you will endeavor to control your feelings, and listen to what I have to say." "I will try, sir," murmured the widow, submissively. "Did Camelli leave any will?" The ladyshuddered, as if he had inflicted a fresh pang, and sobbed behind her handkerchief. "I never asked him; all he had was mine and the child's: he told me so a hundred times." "Are you at all aware of the amount of property he had to leave?" ' "No: I do not understand you. 'If you would only ask any of his friends, Mr. Bryant; any one but me. I know nothing about business." "Tell me, then, my dear Mrs. Camelli," pursued Mr. Bryant, growing somewhat impatient, "who was his man of business,--his lawyer, I mean?" "I am sure I do not know. Oh, what will become of us? He did everything himself; he never supposed that I was to know about such things: he gave me all I wanted; but he is gone,-gone I and I only wish that I were with him!" "You forget your child. You have duties, Mrs. Camelli; and your life, let me remind you, is of the greatest importance to her; more than ever now that she has lost her father." "Poor, poor child I My darling, what will you do?" "God will protect the widow and the orphan," said Mr. Bryant, a little sternly, but added, in a softer tone, "I pity you, madam, from my soul I pity you; but busi- ness must be attended to. Shall I call to-morrow? Perhaps you may then be more composed." After a pause of a few minutes, during which Mrs. Camelli, instead of answering, continued sobbing over her daughter, he proceeded: "Rouse yourself, madam: you are called upon to live, and not only to live, but to fulfill the duties of life, so as to fit you better to rejoin in happiness him you have lost." "I will try," repeated Mrs. Camelli for the second time, and in so humble a tone that Mr. Bryant felt his heart more touched even than by the violence of her grief. page: 20-21[View Page 20-21]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 20-21 20 ' ISOLINA. "You must understand," he continued, "that though your lamented husband had, by the most laudable exer- tions and prudence, laid by a considerable sum of money, he had likewise debts " "It was no fault of his, I am sure," interrupted the widow. "By no means, my dear madam. Pray understand me: I attach no blame to your husband for debts of this kind, incurred by speculations which he had every reason to believe, had he lived a few months longer, he would not only have paid, but would have been the means of adding considerably to his fortune. But it pleased God to take him suddenly, and -- "Oh, sir, it is a cruel fate,-very cruel I We were so happy, and-and --"The lady again buried her face in the sofa-cushions, with renewed sobs. "Mrs. Camelli," said Mr. Bryant, apologetically, "I did not mean to touch roughly on that subject. I was wrong even to allude, to the suddenness of your bereavement. I merely wished to assure you that I consider your hus- band's conduct as unimpeachable as you do. It should be some consolation to you that you have that treasure in. heaven, and that the love you have enjoyed for so many years on earth is yours still. Do not suppose I blame your natural grief, my dear madam, when I urge you to control it, and remind you of your duty to yourself and to your child. Where grief weakens our powers of judg- ment, at a time when we are called upon to exercise it for the fulfillment of duty, we should, we must, bring it under control; therefore I ask you once again, if you can attend to me to-day, or if-I should return to- morrow." "Sir, do not speak so to me," said the widow, in a peevish tone; and, raising her head fro m the cushion, the momentary irritation at Mr. Brvant's exhortation, or lecture, as she considered it, enalbled her to master her tears. "I know my duty, and what I owe to my child. I am sure no one loves her as I do. I know I must live, too," and her lips again quivered; "but I can never again be happy." The burst of passionate grief which followed assured Mr.'Bryant that every effort to obtain 1 ISOLINA. 21 the information he desired would now be vain, and he was reflecting what course to pursue, when they were all three startled by the sound of the door-bell. Isolina slipped off the sofa, and was hastening out of the room with childlike curiosity, when her mother called to-her, in an agitated voice, to tell- the maid not to admit any one. The child nodded gravely, and thrusting her head through the doorway, as quickly withdrew it, whenzshe perceived she was too late, for a lady, passing Rebecca, who vainly tried to prevent her entrance, advanced towards the drawing-room door as Isolina retreated. She was tall, and had that air of quiet dignity which seems to belong peculiarly to an English lady of high breeding, though occasionally met with in other countries. Her age might have been somewhere between five-and- thirty. and forty, and her erect carriage would have con- veyed an idea of pride, had not this impression been at once dispelled by the soft loveliness of her face, with the singularly sweet expression in her mouth and eyes. She had no pretension to beauty, and yet there was an in- definable charm in her countenance which attracted even little Isolina at a first glance. The lady paused a few seconds at the door, as if asking admittance; then, beg- ging pardon for her intrusion, she approached the widow, and addressed her in a voice which fell gently and pleas- antly upon the ear. "Louisa, have you forgotten me?" Mrs. Camelli looked up with a puzzled expression whilst laying her hand on Lupo's head, who received the visitor with an ominous growl. "Quiet, Lupo, good dog," said Isolina, throwing her arms round his neck, whilst her mother rose and ap- proached the stranger., "Louisa," repeated the -lady, "is it possible that you have forgotten Ellinor Mowbray?" Mrs. Camelli, uttered a faint cry, and extended her arms towards her visitor; but before she could reach her she tottered, fell back on the sofa, and fainted away. The tall lady sat down beside her, bathed her- forehead with eau-de-cologne, and calmly applied the restoratives nearest at hand, whilst desiring Isolina to fetch a glass page: 22-23[View Page 22-23]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 22-23 m22 ISOLINA. of water. The child obeyed, though with a look of resentment at the tone of comnmand used towards her by an entire stranger. Lupo lay on the carpet, his nose resting on his forepaws, and suspiciously eyeing the move- ments of the lady. "Miss Mowbray,"' said Mr. Bryant, who had until now stood by unrecognized, but who had felt relieved by the entrance of one he thought might be of use in the embarrassing position in which his benevolence had placed him. "Mr. Bryant!" exclaimed the lady, turning round; 'i' I am rejoiced, though not surprised, to see you here. I was so distressed this morning, when I returned to town after some weeks' absence, to learn the affliction which had befallen my old friend, that I hastened here, in the hope of being able to be of some comfort to her." "You have just, come at the right moment, my dear Miss Mowbray; but the first thing now is to bring her to herself again, poor soul 1 Here, child," he said, turn- ing to Isolina, who returned with the water, followed by Rebecca, not more disposed than her little mistress ito view with favor the lady who had treated her late pro- hibition with so little respect. "Goodness on me 1"V the maid exclaimed, " my poor missus I Her nerves are so weak, sir, I shouldn't wonder if this had killed her 1" With eyes swimming in tears, and cheeks paler than usual from terror, Isolina gave the glass to Mr. Bryant, and flew to her mother. I "Mamma, mamma, don't leave me 1" she exclaimed. "She will not leave you, my love," said the lady, gently. "See, she is better already," "Oh, yes, miss; don't flurry yourself. Now don't take on like that: it's no use," said Rebecca, thrusting a burnt pen under Mrs. Camelli's nostrils. "Your mamma will be all right again in a minute; it was just an over-all. ness at seeing a stranger so sudden-like," and she looked indignantly at Miss Mowbray as she spoke; " which missus is not fit for, ma'am. -And if I may give my opinion, it might be as well if you could just step into the dining- room till missus is come: about again, or is prepared a - -^ * ; ISOLINA. o 23 bit, ma'am, to see you. Don't you think so, sir?" she added, appealing to Mr. Bryant, expecting that he would -second her proposal. Miss Mowbray likewise looked at -Mr. Bryant, as if to inquire from him whether she should follow this advice. "This lady is an old friend of Mrs. Camelli," said Mr. Bryant to Rebecca; " and, as she has now seen you, I think, Miss Mowbray, you had better remain, and that it would be as well for me to leave you alone with her. Will you be here to-morrow?" "( Yes; I shall not leave her." d"Then I will call early in the morning." He heildout his hand to Isolina; she .put up her face to be kissed, and, as he bent down to her, she whispered, "I wish you would not go away," Mr. Bryant considered it best, however, to go; and, stroking her head with an en- couraging smile, he left the room, followed by Rebecca. The defeated damsel hastened to open the house-door for the clergyman, but less from motives of respect than from curiosity. "Excuse me; sir," she said, with a grim -smile, meant ( to be insinuating, and her fingers resting on the handle of the door,- " excuse me, sir, but, if I might be so bold, 'I should be glid to know who the strange lady is. You see, sir, as how I have a sort of charge of poor missus since poor dear master died. She never could do nothing for herself, and the child wants as much care as her mother, poor dear I It's not curiosity, sir, by no means; but -" -"If it is not curiosity, I do not know what it is, my good woman. Your mistress will tell you herself who the lady is. At any rate, I can assure you she is in very good hands. Come, open the door, and let me out." "Oh, to be sure, sir," said Rebecc Slooking and speak- ing somewhat spitefully, for her disgust was now as much with Mr. Bryant as with the stranger. " 1 beg your pardon, sir, for having detained you. I hope no offense, sir." Then, as she closed the door after him, she muttered, be- tween her teeth, "Curiosity, indeed I And wouldn't he have been curious too, if he didn't know all about it already?"And, stationing herself at the drawing-room page: 24-25[View Page 24-25]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 24-25 24- ISOLINA. door, she applied her ear to the keyhole, "to be," as she termed it, " within call." Mrs. Camelli gradually recovered her senses, and after leaning her head in silence a few minutes on her friend's shoulder, she exclaimed, in a broken and reproachful voice, "You are come at last, Ellinor. Why did you not come sooner, when I was happy,-too happy? It is all over now, and I am utterly miserable You will never know him that I have lost. .Oh, Ellinor, I am so alone I I cannot live alone I Don't leave me again,- I am so very, very wretched." "I come to be with you in your sorrow, Louisa. Trust in me. hAm I not your oldest friend? I will not forsake you." ' "Why did you ever forsake me?" said Mrs. Camelli, raising her head and shrinking from her. "But you were like the rest; you iforsook and despised me when you should have held me in most honor. If you -had sought me out when he waIs alive, when the cold world turned its back on him and me, I would have so welcomed you; but you were ashamedto know him, and now that he is gone, you think it safe to acknowledge me. Come here, Isolina: we will not receive those as friends who despised your father." The recollection of the injuries of past years appeared to have roused all Mrs. Camelli's faculties, and to have awakened h-to a sense of something besides her sorrow. "Louisa9" said the lady, gently, "I understand and I honor yohr feeling; but had your husband been still dlive, and you had been in trouble, I would have sought you, as I now do. Recollect that since your marriage your life has been one of comparative prosperity and - happiness." "Comparative I Oh, Ellinor, it has been happiness itself!" The petty cares and vexations of life which had oten appeared so magnified when they were mere specks on the smooth mirror had vanished from Mrs. Camelli's recollection, now that a mist had clouded the whole sur- face. "You wanted nothing in your. home," continued her ISOLINA. 25 friend, " however dearly you may have bought that hap- piness, whilst I only obeyed the express desire of my' dear father, and afterwards yielded to the advice of my brother, in not seeking you, as my heart often prompted me. But now, when for the first time I knlew that you must need a friend, I have consulted neither my brother nor any one else, but have come in search of you. Let us not at this moment look back, my dear Louisa, but allow me to soothe you, and offer the little consolation in my power under such an affliction, as I should have done when, years ago, we sat together at the Pines, and when our hearts and heads were filled with romantic ideas and hopes, how different from the reality of life!" ," You would hardly say so, Ellinor, had you known my happiness!" said Mrs. Camelli, who, looking through a medium which makes all we have lost sunny and beau- tiful, gradually was led to talk to Miss Mowbray of years gone by. Misunderstandings which had'estranged the friends were explained away, whilst the friendship which had been so long interrupted appeared to be renewed with all the warmth of girlish days. CHAPTEIR IV. "Through the wide world he only is alone Who lives not for another. Come what will, The generous man has his companion still: The cricket on the hearth; the buzzing fly That skims his roof; or, be his roof the sky, Still with its notes of gladness passes by: His a delight, how pure Hwithout alloy, , Strong in their strength, rejoicing with their joy." ROGERS: HLuman Life. BY the united exertions of Mr. Bryant and Miss Mow- bray, Mrs. Camelli's affairs were finally settled, and, after the payment of the debts left by her husband, suffi- cient capital remained to produce an income hardly ex- ceeding a hundred a year. In order to be within reach B 3 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 26-27 263 ISOLINA. of Miss Mowbray, Mrs. Camelli was persuaded to come up to London, and to take an apartment of four rooms in a street adjoining Wilton Place, where Ellinor had lately purchased a small house, which she intended to make her winter residence. Accustomed to lean on another for support, and utterly helpless alone, Mrs. Ca- melli was glad to find an adviser in her old friend, whilst the interest little Isolina had awakened in Miss Mow- bray's heart already began to make her benefactress feel that she was reaping a reward for her generous assist- ance. During the interval of ten years which had elapsed since the friends met, their characters had developed themselves,-opposite in their nature as in the circum- stances and relations of life by which they had been moulded. The renewal of intercourse only produced disappointment to Ellinor, and still further dispelled the romance of her youthful days. The gentle, timid Louisa had never even aspired to be strong or wise, whilst Miss Mowbray was ever striving after an ideal of excellence which she felt unable to attain, and, with little charity for her own weakness, found it difficult to think indul- gently of failings for which she had no sympathy. In taking upon herself, therefore, the care of the widow and the orphan, she did not close her eyes to the trials which awaited her; but she had early in life laid down as a rule never to avoid an opportunity to do good. Such oppor- tunities she regarded as sent her by God, and as such she accepted them with a willing spirit. Mrs. Camelli had no nearer relations than her cousins in Australia. She was feeble, poor, and dependent, whilst Ellinor was rich and independent, and possessed the common sense and resolution her friend wanted. As Miss Mowbray had first sought her in their days of childhood, so she sought her again in the hour of sorrow. There was, however, a stronger motive which con- firmed Ellinor in her determination to stand by the friend of former years,-and that was the interest awakened in her heart by that friend's child, who was gaining a deeper and stronger place in her affections than the girl- ish fancy which had once bound her to the mother. The ISOLINA. 27 simple trust and fearless truthfulness of Isolina's char- acter, her native courage and strength, combined with the attractions of beauty, grace, and a poetic tempera- ment, had an irresistible charm for Miss Mowbray, whose theories of discipline in education, and perfect subordi- nation to the will of another, which would convert a * child into a machine, were fast melting away before Iso- lina's self-willed impetuosity, whether of love or anger. Ellinor soon discovered that her passionate nature only yielded to such gentle guidance as the little girl had once received from her father, whose memory she cherished with more than childish constancy. Since Lord Elton's death, Ellinor had felt herself a sol- itary being in the midst of the gay world among whom she moved. The congeniality of his mind with her own, and the happiness she enjoyed in his confidence and affec- tion, made it difficult for her to find any companion his superior or equal; and she had refused several advan- tageous offers of marriage. Her brother was all that a brother could be in affection and in consideration for her happiness; but he had a wife, and, however amiable niight be the intercourse between the sisters-in-law, Lady Elton was not one whom Ellinor could make her intimate friend. Her brother's marriage, therefore, appeared to have, in a certain degree, alienated him from her. His children were a constant source of interest, and repaid all her love and tenderness; but Lady Elton was jealous of a rival in power and influence over her sons as well as over her husband, and her will was law in the family circle. As soon as the year of mourning for her father had passed, Ellinor had sought a home of her own; but a succession of invitations left her little leisure to occupy the rooms she had furnished with every luxury she could desire. Una;ble to follow up any particular occupation,- partly from the habit of working for and with another, partly from want of leisure,-she felt her lonel iness in tensely; and when, to escape from it, she plunged into. gay society, the emptiness, monotony, and weariness of the ever-recurring round of dinner, ball, and opera were more depressing to her than solitude. She tried reading; but a merely desultory search after information, though page: 28-29[View Page 28-29]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 28-29 28 ISOLI NA. pleasing and useful, could not fill up the vacant places in her home and heart. She spent hours visiting the poor; but she came to the conviction that even in this employ- ment there is much waste of time, much benevolence thrown away, much that might be better done by those who have fewer opportunities of directing their minds to other spheres of usefulness. She had no morbid ideas of religion or virtue to persuade her that she could gain the Ifvor of the Creator, and pardon for her sins, by a life of penance,or by allowing the gifts He had bestowed on her to lie idle, whilst she was wandering out of the path assigned her to seek work for which others were more capable. Ellinor had not a discontented disposi- tion; yet she feared lest a restless and dissipated habit of mind might, in the end, sour her temper and unfit her for the duties as well as affections of life. There is no more wholesome atmosphere than happiness, no more un- wholesome than pleasure: since if pleasure is procured -by self-indulgence, happiness can only be purchased by self-sacrifice,-but sacrifice offered cheerfully, and with the conviction of its necessity. Ellinior Mowbray was in search of a life of active use- fulness, and such she appeared to have found in the care of her poor friend and her child. Isolina, deprived of one parent, and with the remaining parent incapable of supplying his place, had beauty, the promise of talent, if not genius, and was rich in all the natural gifts which make the world so full of danger to the ignorant, so high in aim to those who are prepared by early culture to com- prehend the true value of their possessions, and for what purpose they are given. Miss Mowbray saw before her a new object in life in the training of this young child without interfering with that best education of daily small sacrifices offered for the mother who was her natu- ral guardian, and to whom she owed a duty which' is rendered easy by affection. Mr. Bryant had suggested to Ellinor that it might ibe desirable for Mrs. Camelli to apply to her husband's father for the assistance which it was possible he would grant to his son's widow and to her innocent child. It was with some difficulty that she could be induced to : l/ ISOLINA.- 29 take the step. Whatever might be Mrs. Camelli's weak- ness of character, she was strong in her love for her hus- band, and jealous of his honor; more now even than when he was alive. She refused to sign any other name than that of Camelli, to ignore the actor, or to appear in her letter to sink the recollection of a profession by which her husband had gained his celebrity, and of which he had been justly proud. Count Michieli was a Venetian noble, and in the enjoyment of great-wealth. The letter reached him by careful hands: it was not even trusted to the post; but no answer followed. Miss Mdwhray, after waiting some weeks, resolved to write herself, but met with no better success. The subject -was accord- ingly dropped; and, leaving Mrs. Camelli and Isolina to establish themselves in their London- home, Ellinor paid her usual round of autumnal visits in the country, and during that time she calmly reflected over lYer scheme. Her request that Mrs. Camelli would write frequently to her, was faithfully obeyed; but the letters were mere repetitions of passionate lamentations, or were profuse with gratitude towards her benefactress and friend; they contained little or no information either about her- self or Isolina, and it required all the patience. Ellinor could command, all her sympathy for the cause of Mrs. Camelli's affliction, to toil through pages empty of facts and replete with platitudes more becoming the affected sentimentality of a school-girl than the deep reality of grief in a woman above thirty. This was the more try- ing as Ellinor had cautiously to avoid any expression of annoyance, and had to excuse the follies she inwardly blamed, in order not to have to parry the accusation of greater folly in herself. lNone, she knew, could jtrdge for her, as no one could place themselves in her position, or decide what would most conduce to her happiness; and she was not surprised that well-meaning relations and friends should smile at her as an enthusiast, and think, with regret, that she was under-estimating the cost of that which she knew was, for her, beyond price. Meantime, the autumn wore tediously away with the mother and daughter in their London lodgings. Ellinor would not yet separate Isolina from her playfellow 3* page: 30-31[View Page 30-31]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 30-31 30 ISO LINA. Lupo, though the great city was as uncongenial to him as to his companion. Mrs. Camelli shut herself up for hours with her grief, and when she came from her room, pale, and with eyes red from weeping, she had a strange and dull incoherence in her speech and manner which often frightened the child; at other times she would give way to loud sobs, bewailing her loss, and at every sign of gayety, as a smile or laugh, from innocent little Isolina, she reproached her with forgetfulness or want of consid- eration for herself; but when the result of these ill-timed reproofs was a flood of tears, she would catch her up in her arms and overwhelm her with caresses. Isolina felt her father's absence daily more bitterly, and, young as she was, her conscience reproached her for not being able to console or to find consolation for her mother: she had to support where she herself needed support. The weather continued hot and oppressive. The grads in the Park was parched and trodden down by the feet of every holiday-maker, whilst the half-washed popula- tion, now that water was more scarce than usual, added close smells to those produced by the stagnant Serpen- tine. Yet, even with all these drawhacks, Isolina en- joyed the evening walk, running races with Lupo, watch- ing the gambols of other children, or lost in rambling imaginations as she sat silently beside her mother, who was absorbed in the thought of her own sorrow. The little face became always paler as Isolina, day after day, sta- tioned at the window of their apartment, her needle-work in her hand, with Lupo at her feet, spent'her time in watching a hialf-starved cat running across thy street, or in listening to discordant notes from a solitary organ- grinder, who, in the forlorn hope of receiving a half penny, with pitiful looks, addressed the child from below in a mixture of patois Italian and broken English. Iso- lina's work showed manifest proofs of slow progress, not only by the length of the unsewed seam, but by the con- dition of her needle and thread. One afternoon she saw a carriage approaching laden with luggage, and, catching a glimpse of Miss Mow- bray's fae at the window, she ran to her mother, calling to-her to come and see. Ellinor kissed her hand to them as IrS ISOLrNA. - 31 she passed, and the carriage turned the corner into Wilton Place. Isolina flew for her bonnet, and, before her mother could forbid, she bounded down-stairs, and, followed by Lupo, ran as fast as she could to Miss Mowbray's house. "Polina, my little darling 1" exclaimed a cheerful voice, and the beaming face of her friend gave her a re- ception more expressive than wordswilst both her arms were extended, into which the child sprang with a cry of joy. It was a long time since Miss Mowbray had received such a welcome home, and she clung as fondly to the child as the child to her. Ellinor was so engrossed with Isolina that she was not aware of the arrival of other visitors until the door was thrown open, and, without waiting to be announced, her sister-in-law, Lady Elton, followed by her son, a youth of seventeen, -the same young midshipman who was in- troduced to our reader in the first chapter of this book,- with Alice Herbert, entered the room. Miss Mowbray's first impulse was to push Isolina gently away, but the next moment she drew her more closely to her side, as she advanced to meet her relations with a mingled feeling of vexation at her own want of moral courage and reso- lution to assert her right to be her own mistress. Lady Elton had just returned from a tour on the Continent, but Ellinor was quite aware that her conduct with regard to her old friend, Mrs. Camelli, had been reported to her, and had been the subject of ill-natured comments in let- ters to and from home. "What a splendid fellow!" was her nephew's first ex- clamation, as he caught sight of Lupo. "Does he belong to you, auntie?" "We are only in town one Week," said Lady Elton, without heeding her son's question, or appearing to ob- serve the existence of the dog or the child, "and are on our way down to the Pines. We heard you were to arrive to-day, and so came on to see you. How well you are looking, Ellinor I I never saw you with such a color. And this, I suppose," she continued, looking down at Isolina, " is your semi-Italian protegee. I hope you are not going to adopt her?" she added, in a half whis- per, and with an ironical smile. page: 32-33[View Page 32-33]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 32-33 o;a;) ISOLINA. "'This is the daughter, of an old and dear friend of mine, Mrs. Camelli," replied Miss Mowbray, steadily; her mother resides near me, and Isolina has come, like a dear, good child, to welcome me home; and this dog, George, is hers, not mine." "Elle est fort jolie," remarked Lady Elton; aiwhich Isolina, who understood Frenchh, as well as- Italian and English, blushed and looked down, more lovely than ever, with her long, dark lashes nearly resting on her cheek. "Et elle comprend tres-bien le Frangais," said Miss Mowbray. i So now, dear child, run home, and tell your mother I shall be with her in the course of the afternoon. Stay, Isolina, Thomas must see you and Lupo home; you must not run wild about the streets of London, as you did in your little garden on the Thames. I beg your pardon, Sophy," she added, turning to Lady Elton, and affecting not to perceive the contemptuous smile, which, nevertheless, hurt and offended her; "I will be with you in a moment." , She rang the bell, and accompanied Isolina out of the room to give her to the care of the servant. "And when did you arrive from the Continent?" Ellinor asked, as she returned to the drawing-room, and stried to overcome a slightly nervous agitation of voice and manner. "Only yesterday. We shall not-remain longer in town than we can help; but George is to shoot this autumn, before he gets his appointment to a ship, and his father promised him a new gun. Besides, I have some pur- chases to make for myself. But I have not presented you my adopted daughter during this journey. You hove often heard me speak of Alice Herbert?" "Yes, indeed ;and I have as often wished to see her." And Ellinor held her hand towards her, whilst the fair young face blushed modestly, and looked half shy, half pleased. "Which of the Italian lakes do you prefer?" continued Miss Mowbray, addressing her. "I liked them all, though I think I preferred the Lago Maggiore; but then we had such charming weather there. ', I ISO L, 4A. 33 "A little too hot," said Lady Elton; "but we were early for Italy, and soon recrossed the Alps, so have spent the last month in Switzerland."- "And we had a week of ciamois-hunting," broke in the midshipman. "How many did you slay, most mighty Nimrod?" asked his aunt, with a smile. "Nay, nay, auntie, that is not fair; you do not-know what hard sport .it is; and I only, in fact, accompanied- the rest, as I was not provided with a gun, so only got a shot when one of them lent me his." "No doubt if you had been properly armed we should have heard of great slaughter." "What do you mean to do with yourself this October, Ellinor?" asked Lady Elton; "it is too early in the season to talk of settling ih for the winter. Can't you run down -to us for a month? Frederick will join us before he returns to Cambridge, and you have not seen him since the spring." "Oh, yes, I have; I met him at Forestmere, where we spent a week together, whilst you were in Switzerland." "Oh, by the bye, I recollect; but that need makei no difference. You will come, won't you? I have fifty things to ask. you." - . "Thank you, I am afraid I could not manage to leave town again; I have been absent so long from home, and have many arrangements to make." "Nonsense, my dear Ellinor I a month will make no difference. . We expect a pleasant -party, and among them your old friend Sir Roger Campbell, who is as lame and as agreeable, I am told, as ever." "I should have come to see you and Henry and the boys, my dear Sophy, and:want no other inducement." "Then you shall come; I won't listen to excuses." "But you must, indeed; it will be quite out of my power." . "Quite out of your power I Nay, my dear Ellinor, that will not do; you are your own mistress, and you have nothing to keep you at home." Miss Mowbray sighed, and her countenance saddened at these words. B* page: 34-35[View Page 34-35]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 34-35 8,4 , ISOLfXA. "Do, do come, auntie:; it will be much more jolly if you are of the party." "1You tempt me very much, George; any other time I should be delighted." i "I may be at sea! another year." "Not till after Christmas; I will come at Christmas." "We shall be horridly dull without you." "Thank you, my dear boy; I don't pretend to deny how much I should contribute to the shooting-party; but I am afraid I must wait to hear all about it when next we meet you." "You don't mean to say you will positively refuse, after not seeing any of us since July? I promised Henry I would make you come," said Lady Elton. "Tell him, dear Sophy, I am very sorry, but I have other engagements; he must come and see me." "So I cannot persuade you? Then I suppose you must have your own way; but I must say, Ellinor, I take it rather unkind." George perceived his mother was growing seriously angry; for Lady Elton was unaccustomed to opposition. he therefore endeavored to make a diversion by producing a seal, which he told Miss Mowbray his father had pur- chased in Milan. "It is a real antique gem, aunt, and I made my father buy it for you, as I know you like such knickknacks." "Thank you, my dear boy; it is very beautiful,-and an amethyst too, which I particularly admire." Henry has putseveral aside to show you when you come to the Pines," said Lady -Elton, making one more effort to shake her sister-in-law's resolution, "I hope to be with you at Christmas, and then I shall see them." "You won't be persuladed?" "I have told you, my dear Sophy, I am truly obliged to you, but I cannot come. Is Miss Herbert going with you to the Pines, or is she returning home?" "I am happy to say," replied Lady Elton, formally, with an assumption of coldness, expressive of her dis- pleasure at having underghne a defeat,--"I am happy-to say that Miss Herbert will remain with us a little longer, 'rSOLrWrA. ' 35 as Mrs. Herbert has agreed to join us at the Pines -in a few days. I think we must go now, Alice, or we shall be too late for our appointment; I promised Lord Elton to meet him at five. Good-by, my dear. I shall tell Ienry you have such very particular engagements at home that we cannot tempt you to visit our poor mansion this autumn." "Tell him to come and see me, and let me speak for myself," said Ellinor, with a gentle smile. ' You won't come?" "I can't, my dear Sophy. Give my love to Frederick." "I shall do no such thing; Frederick will think you- have forsaken him." With a kiss somewhat less cordial than usual, Lady Elton took her leave, and swept out of the room, followed by Alice. George lingered a little behind. I "Is that pretty little girl we saw with you just now, aunt, the daughter of poor Camelli, the actor?" "Yes, my dear." "Poor child It is very good of you, auntie,-just like yourself,-to be kind to her and her poor mother. Don't mind my mother: you know her,-it will be all over in an hour. Do they live near you?" ' In the next street." The servant entered with a message from Lady Elton, to say she was in the carriage, and desired that Mr. George would not keep her waiting. "Then I must be off, 'or I shall get it. Good-by, auntie." And, with a hearty kiss, the midshipman bounded down-stairs. "What were you saying to your aunt, detaining us so long, George?"Lady Elton asked, as he jumped into the carriage." "I beg your pardon, mother; I was only asking my aunt about that pretty little girl." "I do not wish to hear any more about her. It is a silly, romantic notion of your aunt's; all very well to be charitable, but she has been making herself perfectly ridiculous this autumn about the child of au actor. As for the mother, nothing could be more imprudent than your grandfather allowing an intimacy between her and page: 36-37[View Page 36-37]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 36-37 36 M ISOLI01A. your aunt. She behaved very ill to her own father; at any rate, there was no necessity for Ellinor to take her up again." This last remark was uttered by Lfdy Elton as a sort of soliloquy, whilst, with her band on the check- string, she was looking out of the window of the carriage, to see if they were near their destination. George, who was devotedly attached to his aunt, was on the point of taking up her defense, when Alice, with unusual courage, broke in with, '"Oh, Lady Elton, that little girl looks so sweet 1 I think it would be impossible not to love her, and-- " "Very natural, my dear; all young girls are fond of children," said Lady Elton, abruptly; but at that moment they reached the gunsmith's shop, where Lord Elton ex- pected them, and the conversation was turned from so dangerous a topic. Meantime, Ellinor hastened to Mrs. Camelli, whio had been waiting for her with impatience, and who threw herself into her arms with grateful joy. She had a thou- sand, things to tell-and to ask, and Miss Mowbray sat listening till the first torrent of words was exhausted. With Isolina seated on her knee, and her little arm round her neck, Ellinor could be a patient and even sympathizing listener to details of petty grievances she-thought she could remedy, and to-the oft-repeated tale of deeper sor- row, which she could soothe, if she could not heal. CHAPTER V. ( "She is young, wise, fair; In these to nature she's immediate heir; And these breed honor; that is honor's scorn, Which challenges itself as honor's born, And is not like the sire. Honors best thrive, When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers." A'IP Well that Ends Well, Act II., Scene III. THE following morning Lord Elton called on Miss Mowbray; and, after the first greetings had been inter- changed between the brother and sister, he exclaimed,- "So, Ellinor, Sophy tells me you won't pay us a visit this autumn at the Pines, and you are not- at all in a hurry to hear our adventures." i"Sophy is mistaken, Henry. You know very well how much pleasure it always gives me to be with you, and that I should be delighted to hear all you have to tell me; but I must postpone my visit till Christmas, as I have duties which detain me in town." a- "Pshaw I my dear Ellinor, we all know what these duties are. You don't mean to say that that actor's widow engrosses all your thoughts and time, so that you have none to spare for us? I really thought we had heard enough of her in letters, and that the fancy would have passed before we left the Continent." "I have paid my usual round of autumnal country visits Whilst you were away, and I own, my dear Henry, that I do not like to leave any duty half fulfilled.- I do owe a duty to an old friend in distress." "Are not her affairs already settled, thanks to your benevolent exertions? You may surely rest now with a quiet conscience, satisfied you have done all that charity -or, if you like it better, former friendship-can claim." "Mrs. Camelli is still my friend." "My dear Ellinor, you are surely old enough and soer enough to see the folly of unequal friendships; and /; 4 page: 38-39[View Page 38-39]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 38-39 m - . 88r; ISOLINA. certainly the choice of your girlish 'fancy was not your- equal in any respect: she showed herself in her true colors when she eloped with an opera-singer. I don't mean to deny she was very badly used by her father, though I cannot, for the life of me, perceive what you have to do with the matter; and the story is such an old one now, I have forgotten all the particulars. If our good father had not injudiciously turned the attorney's head by allowing an intimacy between his daughter and you, I believe Newton would not have considered the match as unequal, nor cut her off as he did. Why, I'd bet anything that he wouldn't have been the least sur- prised if I myself had been smitten with the charms of the fait Louisa, and had proposed to make her the future Lady Elton. I should like to have seen my poor father's face if I had asked his consent, Ellinor!"He continued, in a graver tone, "Think better of it, and say you will join our party at the Pines next week." Miss Mowbray hesitated, whilst the faint blush of anger which had risen to her cheeks gradually subsided. She was vexed at the disrespectful tone in which her brother had spoken of one she had called her friend, and the more so, perhaps, that there was some truth in his words, which he would find confirmed whenever he should happen to tmeet again the commonplace little woman who had once been the chosen friend of "her heart. She might even have acknowledged this to himi had he not mingled contempt and ridicule with his ob- servations; but she would not abandon her project, or; deny her old friendship. It required some courage to hold on, unsupported by the sentiment which had at one time blinded her to Louisa's imperfections; and this wasA the harder, since Etlinor, in spite of her strength of character, wanted tenacity of purpose, and disliked saying no, when urged by those she loved; she was not, either, wholly without the false notions which fence the narrow boundaries of aristocratic propriety. Nothing but a strong conviction of duty, at which she had arrived after mature deliberation, enabled her to keep firm in her refusal. "I do not think, Henry," she resumed, "that either Louisa or I should be blamed for the past." ISOLINA. 39 "My dear Ellinor, do not misunderstand me: you were both mere children; but my father " ( Whatever my dearest father did, he did for the best; circumstances led to the intimacy between Louisa and myself; and allow me to add, though I know that you will not agree with me, that I cannot see the impassable gulf which is to separate two women, educated alike as we were, only because one happens to be the daugh- ter of a country attorney and the other of a nobleman. Mr. Newton was a clever and accomplished man, and it- was his morals, not his rianners, that alienated my father from his society. If Louisa had not been surrounded by the idle, gossipy people of Woodford, I am sure she might have been made worthy of any one. And as for her husband, Mr. Bryant has assured me that he was a man of real superiority of mind and character; besides,- though I think this of less importance than you do,- his family is as good as our own." "As for Bryant's opinion of any man, he is as great an enthusiast as yourself, Ellinor, and has been bitten with a passion fpr foreigners ever since he attended meetings for exiles and those sort of people, of whom the country would be well rid. Camelli was an Italian ad- venturer, who might claim relationship with any great family he pleased, and he was an actor and opera-singer by profession. As I said before, I do not think he was at all an unequal match for Louisa Newton, though her father chose to consider him such, except so far that an Englishwoman must lower herself by marrying a for- eigner; but Ido consider that Louisa Newton, or Mrs. Camelli, never was, nor is, a fitting friend for my sister, and such romantic or democratic ideas as you have im- bibed (Heaven knows where, Ellinor) are, in my opinion, dangerous to society and to this country." "We {have got into an argument which we have no time to discuss now. I won't even defend the wisdom of my early friendship. I confess that, meeting Louisa after a lapse of years, I am disappointed in her; but my'mis- taken idea of her character does not absolve me from promises of love and assistance. It is no fault of hers that she is not as superior as I once thought her; she is page: 40-41[View Page 40-41]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 40-41 40 ISOLINA. gentle, confiding, and in sorrow; her very weakness makes her more in want of support." "But why of your support alone? She has surely other friends." "-None; with the exception of Mr. Bryant.". "There is a child, is there not? whose beauty has been a subject of dispute this morning between George and his mother. Sophy says she is a dark little gypsy, with no great pretension to extraordinary beauty, whilst George declares she is the prettiest little animal possible; in which opinion he is supported by Alice,-no bad judge of beauty, if practice in the glass will make her competent." "You may judge for yourself," said Miss Mowbray, quietly, " as I expect her every minute. I think her one of the loveliest children I ever beheld, but I am perhaps partial. At any rate," she added, with a sigh, " as the world goes, beauty, which is considered a gift for the heiress, may be no gift for her." "You had better keep her out of George's way, if you mean to adopt her." "I do not mean to adopt her, if you mean by that that I propose to deprive her mother of her greatest comfort; but if to adopt her be to take her to my heart, that I have already done, and I hope to aid, to the best of my ability, to makezher a wise, good, happy woman." "Very romantic, Ellinorl But, to return to the point from which we started, why should your benevolence or, friendship to the widow and orphan deprive us of the pleasure of a visit from you this autumn?"- "Because Mrs. Camelli needs my advice. I have been longer absent than I intended, and it is but-delaying my visit to you a couple of months." "Promise me, then, that no widow or orphan is to cut us off from your Christmas visit." "That I will, my -dear Henry ; I give you my word," she said, laughing. At this moment the door opened gently, and a small head was thrust in. "Come in, Isolina," said Miss Mowbray. "This, brother, is iny little pet, whom I must ask you to be kind to." Ellinor had always, from child- / ISOLINA. - 41 hood, addressed Lord Elton as "brother " when she had a particular favor to ask, and the association of the word appeared to smooth the way to obtain whatever she de- sired. She led the little girl by one hand to Lord Elton, whilst she laid the other on hir dark hair, and gently pushed back the head, till the large, shy eyes were raised to his face. "George is right," said Lord Elton, and he would have said more, had not a warning look and gesture from his sister checked him. Patting the child's head, he added, kindly, "You must some day bring this little woman with you to the Pines." A smile, half ironical, at her brother's inconsistency,. half pleased that his heart had, unknown to himself, risen superior to his prejudices, played on Ellinor's mouth, as she replied,- "Thank you; Isolina cannot leave her mother, and Mrs. Camelli would be unequal to return to the scene of so many trialsin her youth." Lord Elton had no intention to include the mother in his invitation, and was hastening away, when Miss Mowbray added, "By the bye, is Alice Herbert to remain long at the Pines2 Sophy told me you expected Mrs. Herbert." "As long as we can keep them. Alice is a charming girl." "And very lovely, too,-but the mother I I do think, Henry, she is one of the most vulgar women I ever met with. She was at Forestmere when I was there, and you were abroad; her mind is more vulgar than her manners. How can Sophy endure her?" "My dear Ellinor, she is not only the mother of pretty Alice Herbert, but mistress of Alice's fortune of twenty thousand a year; and Sophy has a son who will probably have his debts, like other young men, and she has a husband who hopes to live to be an old man. When the daughter is caught, the mother may be dropped. Good- by, and don't forget Christmas." "And my poor friend with her child has a scanty hundred a year 1" sighed Ellinor, when left alone. "How much gold is required to make the balance even, when rank and fashion are-in the other scale 1" 4* page: 42-43[View Page 42-43]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 42-43 43 ISOLINA. The sigh was not for Mrs. Camelli alone, nor for little Isolina, but for the brother, whose moral sense had been blunted less by contact with the world than by the de- basing influence of daily converse with a worldly woman, and, under her guidance, by his submission to the laws of conventionality and expediency. Ellinor pitied the heiress, too, whose youth and innocence could not protect her from morbid views, degrading to herself, and doubly so, since derogatory to the being to whom she owed the respect and duty of a daughter. What cannot money - purchase, and what can it not purchase? It can pur- chase the outward semblance, but not the reality of re- spect; it can purchase honors, but not honor ; for the pos- sessor of wealth is the prey of robbers in gentle garb, who seize on the much-coveted property by fraud, if not by violence, and thrust the owner aside as soon as the act of pillage is accomplished. CHAPTER VI. ' "The smiles that win, the tints that glow, I But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent." BYRON: Hebrew Melodies. ALICE HERBERT sat in a window of her bedroom, listening eagerly to the sound of every carriage which drove up the approach leading to the handsome country- house belonging to Lord Elton. The modern building had been erected on the site of an old farm attached to an ancient monastery, whose ruins attracted many a visitor to the park, in which they formed a picturesque object. Numerous guests were this night expected at the Pines, and among them Alice's mother, whom she had not seen for two months,--a longer separation than ! had ever occurred since her daughter's birth. It was one of those autumnal evenings when the wind whistling ISOLINA. 48 through the trees, the leaves falling at every gust, and a chilly sensation which makes a fire welcome, warn us that winter is fast approaching. The smell of the pine wood near the house, and of peat smoke and burning weeds, mingled with the fresh air, as Alice threw open the sash and looked out. Light streamed from many windows upon the gravel-walk, giving a sense of-com- fort and security amidst the darkness; and the crunching of wheels, as carriages turned off from the high-road and entered the park, was shortly followed by a loud bell pulled by no gentle hands, as well as by the noise of busy footsteps and voices: welcome sounds to the tired and half-frozen traveler, preparing him for the cheerful interior, the hearty shake of the hand, and the sight of blazing fires which awaited him; the commencement of a week or ten days' amusement, with relese from busi- ,ness and care, whilst enjoying the free hospitality offered to the guests of an English country home. But the young heiress was feeling more lonely than she had ever felt before; her host and hostess, and even her friend George, were occupied with the arrival of their guests, and she had been left for several hours to the care of her French maid. She had grown weary of dis- cussing lace and ribbons and the last fashions, and had sent her out of the room; but, feeling'cold and tired of her watch at the window, she closed the shutters, and, seating herself on a low- stool before the fire, soon fell into a reverie. Recollections of her tour floated before her imagination; the thought of numberless little attentions, spoken and unspoken, and of unvarnished compliments from the young sailor, which had flattered the girl of fifteen, who was not more than a couple of years his junior, called up an involuntary blush of pleasure; amusing incidents of the journey made her smile again, and these were succeeded by vague schemes and specula- tions for the future. Standing on the threshold of life, and surrounded by all that could make her prospect brilliant, Alice, who had never yet experienced even the wholesome bitter mingled in the sweetest cup, looked at the future as she might have done at the pages of an unread romance, whose pleasant type promised sufficient page: 44-45[View Page 44-45]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 44-45 " ISOLINA. excitement and amusement to make her impatient to begin. She was still lost in meditation, when she was startled by the door opening; the next moment she was alternately clasped in the arms of her mother and of her dear old e nurse, who loved her no less fondly. "I cannot think how it was I did not hear your car- riage drive up, mamma. You are later than I expected: everybody has come, I believe, and you must be so tired," "I am dreadfully tired. Dawson, give me the salts," said Mrs. Herbert, throwing herself into the arm-chair. "How you? have grown, childl I don't know how I ever made up my mind to part with you. You really look quite a woman: doesn't she, Dawson?" Well, to be sure, dear creature, she has grown tall, but not a woman yet; oh, dear, no I I hope not," said Dawson, surveying her from head to foot, and giving her another affectionate embrace; "but she do look well; don't she, ma'am? What a color she's got, too!" "Now, Dawson, that you have bad a good look at Miss Alice, take my bonnet. Where's Hortense, Alice?" "I- sent her away, mamma, as I wanted to be alone when you arrived; we have yet a good hour before the dressing-bell." "I hope she made herself useful on your journey; you never mentioned her in your letters, though I asked you several times." "I am so sorry, but- I had so many other things to write about; there are fifty more, I am sure, that I omitted, and I hardly now know where to begin." And Alice drew her stool to her mother's feet, rested her arms on her knees, and looked up in her face with eves beam- ing. with happy contentment and affection. Whatever the world of fashion might esteem Mrs. Herbert, she was the being her child most loved, and of whose love v' for herself Alice felt most confident.. "You may go now, and look after my boxes and\ your own tea, nurse," said Mrs. Herbert; "and, Dawson, send Hortense here with a cup of tea for, me. Dawson," she called, once more, as the nurse was closing the door behind her, "I shall wear my purple satin this evening, ISOLINA. 45 and the last head-dress I had from Follet. Or-stay: I am not sure if the pink ribbon will suit that dress. What shall I wear, Dawson?" To this momentous question, asked with the solemnity befitting so vital a subject, Dawson replied by various suggestions, and the interest it had awakened appeared to have acted as a restorative to Mrs. Herbert's nerves. Alice waited patiently in the same attitude, still looking up in her mother's face, but inattentive to the conversa- tion between the mistress and her maid. "Isn't her hair prettier than ever, ma'am?" said Daw- son when Mrs. Herbert appeared satisfied. And she laid her hand on Alice's soft, silky braids, shining in the fire- light as if they had been golden threads. "Go now, Dawson," said Mrs. Herbert, "or Miss Alice and I shall have no time to talk before dinner.7" "Then, my dear," said the affectionate nurse once- more, "you must send your Frenchwoman away to- night, and let me put you to bed, like old days." "That I will, darling nurse; I never like any one near me like yourself." "Bless you, you are a dear 1" "And what is to become of me?" asked Mrs. Her- bert; "Miss Alice must not sit up late, and I shall want you till past twelve to-night, I am sure." "Oh, I can do for both, ma'am, quite well. She does not look as if she had had late hours. She's just like. a rose: isn't she, ma'am?" "Where in the world did you get that frightful brooch, child?" inquired Mrs. Herbert, without heeding Dawson's remark, and darting at the ornament in her daughter's dress. "Don't you like it, mamma? George gave it me when at Wiesbaden. I thought the ivory so beautifully carved 1" "You had better give it to Dawson. It is quite unfit for you to wear." "Let me see it, dear." And Dawson, lifting a candle from the table, held it just beneath Alice's chin. "La I ma'am, it's beautiful I You don't somehow see it l" "Take care of Miss AliCe's hair. We shall have her next in a blaze. And now put some more wood on the page: 46-47[View Page 46-47]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 46-47 " ISOLINA. fire, and leave us. Oh, I am so tired I I don't know how I shall ever be able to dress for dinner I I have left such a pleasant party, too, at the Beauforts'l I could hardly bring myself to come away. I had half a mind to send Dawson to fetch you to me, but I didn't like! to offend the Eltons." "And if I may be so bold, ma'am," interposed Dawson, "Lady Elton is such a pleasant lady, and has been iso kind to Miss Alice, I'm sure you were quite pleased i to come.) "You know nothing about the matter, nurse. Now do go away. I am dying for a cup of tea, and-- " "I'm just going, ma'am. I'll bring it myself, and be back in a minute." "No, Dawson; send Hortense. Cannot you leave us alone and do as I bid you? Really," she added, las Dawson retreated, "nurse is getting quite unbearable l I want a younger maid, and I shall have to part with her. Old servants become very troublesome. " "Oh, mamma I dear old nurse! we never could do without her!" Mrs. Herbert was not worse than the general run of mistresses. She loved Dawson as well as she consid- ered a mistress could or ought to love a servant, and had done for her many a kindness, for which she expected unlimited gratitude and devotion. Much has been said of the ingratitude and selfishness of servants, and little of the ingratitude and selfishness of masters and mis- tresses. Mrs. Herbert always addressed her old and faithful attendant in a tone of benevolent condescension or easy familiarity, but never allowed her to forget the distance that lay between' them. Pride, in an ordinary mind like hers, was mistaken for dignity. But this sta te of things will not probably alter until the relation of the domestic servant to his master becomes that of the em- ployed to the employer, not the barter of one mani's entire freedom of will, speech, and action to another for a life of greater luxury and animal enjoyment than the moderate circumstances of a laboring man render possi- ble or even desirable. "We are all equal in the sight of God" is a condescending admission by which many ISOINA. 47 pride themselves on their humility, and which is too often repeated as a balm to their own consciences, and as a supposed indemnification to their fellow-creatures for their inequality in the sight of man, "Well, my dear child," said Mrs. Herbert, after the door had finally closed upon Dawson, "how have you enjoyed yourself?" "Extremely, dearest mamma; they were all so kind to me. Lord Elton is so nice, and so is Lady Elton. She is so clever, too; quite charming; and draws beauti- fully. How I shall like you to see her sketches I only I am always a little afraid of her." *"That is foolish, Alice; she is so fond of you. I hope you did all she desired you. I thought her example would be an advantage to you, for Lady Elton knows the world, and is considered to have very distingue manners; but I wish she did not invite such a mixture of people to her house. Do you know whom they have got to-night?" "No, indeed, mamma. I know there are a great many people coming, but I only heard the names of one or two. Mr. Bradley, the geologist, Sir Roger Campbell---" "Sir Roger Campbell I an old admirer of Miss Mow-. brayl I wonder she refused& him. At least, all the world says she did. He has a fine property in Scotland, and ten thousand a year, besides being highly connected." "I suppose she did not love him, mamma," said Alice, blushing at the word. "Love him I My dear child, what puts that into your head? Love is all very well in a romance, but in real life young ladies should not talk of such things. Well, never mind: who else did you say was expected?" "Mr. Bradley and Mr. Howard, with his friend, Mr. Wilson, a young Scotchman of great genius, I believe. They are also scientific, I heard Lord Elton say. Then there are General and Lady Frances Arbuthnot and two daughters, and Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, who live at some distance from the Pines. These are all the names that I have heard." "Just Lady Elton's queer set I wonder she invited me to meet them, as I shall know nobody, and she can have everybody, if she chooses. You will find a very page: 48-49[View Page 48-49]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 48-49 : ' '48 ISOLINA. different-entourage" --Mrs. Herbert liked to introduce a French word- " at the Duchess of Pedantmere's. One is always meeting scientific men or artists at the Eltons'." "Oh, mamma, I assure you, George told me that his father has the most distinguished society of London at his house." "What can a boy like George, as you calf him, know about society? When you are older, you will understand better what I mnean, and, for the present, you will please to remember I know best. I require you to be very care- ful to whom you are introduced. Artists and literary and scientific men and women are very Well as lions now and then, but everybody knows they do not form good society; and linless, as sometimes happens, they are people of family, they are generally very vulgar, and their wives and sons and daughters are still worse. I don't want to have anything to do with them; but it does not signify, as we sha'n't be long here, for the duch- ess has made me promise to bring you to Forestmere without delay. She is expecting a houseful, and she said she couldn't do without us. She wants your opinion, too, about the color of her new curtains in the ball-room. She says you have such natural taste, Alice." "I, mamma? I am sure I hope she will not -ask me!" "Well, well, don't be alarmed. By the bye, is Mr. Mowbray expected from Cambridge?" "Do you mean Frederick? Yes, I believe he is to ar- rive this evening; but he is only to stay a couple of days." "I wonder if he will bring Lord Castleton with him? The duchess informed me that her son is at the same col- lege with Frederick Mowbray; and though Mr. Mowbray is a very distinguished young man, Lord Castleton is very superior. It is much to Mowbray's credit, however, to have made such a friend. So very accomplished I He is a poet, too; for the duchess showed me some of her son's verses,-quite between ourselves, for she does not show them to everybody. I can't say I understood them, but they were very fine,;and good poetry requires to be' read half a dozen times before one makes head or tail of it; at least, I always find it so nowadays." "Does he really write poetry, mamma? Why, George /ISOLLTA. 49 said that he hoped his brother would not bring him to the Pines, he is sucha stick of a fellow." "A very imp'oper phrase for you to repeat, Alice I In- deed, I must confess I do regret Ladv Elton's having taken that boy abroad with :her. Had she given me the faintest idea that he was to have been one of the party, I never would have consented to your accompanying them; indeed, had he been- a year or two older, it would have been highly improper. It is very undesirable that you should be on such terms of intimacy with anv gen- tleman, and especially with one who is a younger son. Younger sons are all fortune-hunters; and one thing I particularly desire, Alice---" At this moment a gentle knock at the door interrupted this exhortation and announced the arrival of Hortense with a little tray containing a service of the finest china with tea for Mrs. Herbert. Alice felt her cheeks glow with nervous trepidation at what was to follow, and im- patiently listened to her mother's conversation, carried on in the worst possible French, whilst sipping her tea. The maid bad no sooner left the room than Mrs. Herbert recommenced- : "What was I saying? Oh, by the bye, yes. I have the greatest possible objection to your talking of George and Frederick. Whilst you were little children, it was all very well; but at your ages, that familiarity, calling one another by your Christian names, is, in the first place, decidedly vulgar, and,- in the next, may lead to worse consequences. , "What can I call him, mamma? I could not change now," said Alice, her face becoming scarlet. "You need not call him anything. By-and-by you will call them Mr. Mowbray and Mr. George Mowbray. Boys grow into men, and girls can't be too careful in allowing-an intimacy they may afterwards repent of. Though you are so young, you are not a child, Alice." "I hope I have not done wrong, mamma?" "No, no, my dear, not wrong. You need not blush so. George Mowbray is only a boy, but you are an heiress, and I must be Acaful." "I wish I werelnot an heiressl" I 5 page: 50-51[View Page 50-51]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 50-51 }-l\' AI 50 ISOLINA. "Nonsense, you silly child! When we go to Forest- mere, you will get better acquainted with Lady Emmeline, who is grown charming, apd I hope that"you will study her manners and behavior. She is quite comme il faut." "But is she not very proud and cold? George--Mr. Mowbray, I mean,-oh, it does sound so unnatural - does not like her at all." A"You seem to take George Mowbray's opinion as your guide in everything, Alice. I think your mother should be your only guide in such matters. I beg you will learn to practice more reserve in future." And Mrs. Herbert drew down her upper lip with an air of dignified dis- pleasure. "Do you dine late, Alice?" "Yes, 'mamma." "I cannot permit this to continue. You are hardly sixteen, and, Lady Emmeline was nineteen before she came out. Why, half'the young men will be proposing for you before I know where I am." :' Proposing to me, mamma!" exclaimed Alice, laugh- ing nervously. "Ring the bell, Alice. I ought to be dressing,-and so should you. And, Alice, you needn't mind what I have been saying about George. Perhaps, as he is shortly going to sea again, and you will not probably meet him for years, it will not matter what you call him; besides, we shall leave this early next week, and it would not do to make a sudden change.'? "So soon I Oh, I am so sorry, mamma I I shall never like any one as much as I do those dear Eltons!" "If I had thought two months could have so changed you, and that those dear Eltons would have made you forget your mother and all your other friends, I never could have consented to your accompanying them on this journey." "How can you say so, my dearest mamma? I only meant I shall not care to go to the Duchess of Pedant- mere's, where I shall not know any one, and shall feel so shy. I wish we were going home instead!" "Stuff and nonsense, Alice I You must get over that. It is quite rustic. But here is Dawson.- Come in, nurse. Oh, not that head-dress, it is such a fright I You may IISOLINA. 51 take it for yourself. How could you suppose that I could wear it this evening? It makes me look a hundred!" "I thought, ma'am, you said the last head-dress of Fol-. let; and this is the very last." "Possibly; but have you an eye, to think that I could wear pink with my purple satin? Go back and find another." Dawson obeyed. "And now, my dear," Mrs. Herbert continued, addressing her daughter, "you may be quite sure whoever we may meet at the duchess's will be much -more the thing than here. Indeed, the duchess herself owned to lme she thought me very imprudent to have trusted you to Lady Elton." "I do not see what business she - had to make any such remark," said Alice, hastily. "That is a very impertinent way of speaking of the Duchess of Pedantmere, and to me, your mother, Alice. You forget yourself; you have been quite spoiled by Lady Elton. Go and dress immediately, or youwill be too late." Alice burst into tears; she had been ready to cry for the last ten minutes. "Good gracious, Alice!" exclaimed her mother, "what is the matter? What have I said to make you cry? You will be quite a figure. There, now," she added, kiss- ing her, "go and bathe your eyes with eau-de-cologne and water, and don't talk again of what you don't under- stand. I only spoke for vour good.7 "What is the matter, my darling?" asked Diawson, who entered as Alice was leaving the room. "Nothing," murmured Alice, kissing the kind hand which rested on her arm to detain her, and hastening away. "Nothing, nurse," repeate Mrs. Herbert, sharply; for she was vexed at herself for having caused tears, though laying the blame on Alice. "What a time you have been! I shall be too late. Has Hortense gone to Miss Ali-e's room?" Whilst Hortense was arranging her hair, Alice sat lost in thought. A new care had entered her heart: she had been disappointed in the pleasure she had anticipated in page: 52-53[View Page 52-53]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 52-53 i 652 ISOLINA. the meeting with her mother. Mrs. Herbert appeared altered to her; and yet she shrank from seeing imperfec- tions in the being who had hitherto been her oracle. "Mamma must be right 1" had been an answer to every doubt. But she had now passed weeks in the society of others, whose cultivated minds, tastes, and manners were far more congenial to her own. Had Mrs. Herbert been simple and unpretending, the best part of Alice's nature would have continued to respond to hers, and her trust and love would have been undiminished: since filial love fnd obedience are perfectly compatible with the knowledge of imperfections in a parent. But if the child has been trained to believe such a knowledge disloyal and wrong, and that the belief in virtues which the parent does not possess is an absolute condition\of alle- giance, the truth, which must sooner or later be dis- covered, loosens the bond which nature and duty have alike consecrated. Mrs. Herbert loved her daughter, but she valued her chiefly for the importance she imparted to herself, and she was at no pains to conceal the worldly motives which influenced all her actions. Lady Elton was, indeed, not less worldly; but her ambition and vanity were concealed under a veil of graceful tact and polished courtesy. The young heiress never suspected a motive in the affection lavished upon her, and was hurt by the way in which her mother spoke of those to whom she owed so much kindness, and of herself, as a prize for the highest bidder. In the secret corner of her young heart, also, she was still more vexed at Mrs. Herbert's observations on George Mowbray, towards whom a mere boy-and-girl flirtation was fast ripening-on her side, at least-into a deeper feeling. She walked slowly down-stairs, and paused at the foot, where a heavy cloth door separated the sleeping-apart- ments from the reception-rooms. The dim light from a lamp suspended to the wall fell on her slight figure, dressed in white muslin; a nosegay, consisting of a single rose amidst maidenhair-fern, was fastened in front, and the sane delicate leaf was twined in her hair. She was leaning pensively against the railing, when she was startled by a light step behind her, which at any other ISOI1NA. 53 time would have made her turn round with a welcoming smile; but her mother's words had awakened a conscious- ness of feelings she until then had believed impossible, and she blushed as if caught in a wrong action. "Halloo, Alice! why, I nearly ran over you 1" exclaimed George. "Why, you have been crying, haven't you? I can scarcely see you in this darkness; but how nicely you are dressed I and that fern is quite to my taste." "How absurd you are, Geo " she began, and stopped abruptly. Something has vexed you, I know. Has your mother arrived?" i Yes." "She has not brought you bad news of that darling parrot or that angel of a cat?" "You are very unkind to speak so to me, George, when you see I have been really vexed. It does not signify, only I do not like to go into the drawing-room with red eyes. I wish I had not to dine at table to- day." "Come nearer the light, and let me look at your eyes. No, they are not red now. I see how it is: your mother did not like something in your dress, or you are plagued with your old shyness." "Perhaps so." "But, if my mother catches us here, she will give us a precious rowing, for she has a particular objection to conversations on the stairs; so now let us go together to the drawing-room: you won't mind if I am with you to protect'you?"So saying, he slipped his arm round her waist with boyish affection, and kissed her cheek, to coax her to comply. Alice gently moved away. "You are not angry with me?" "No, but mamma " The manner, the look, and the hesitation in her sentence at once revealed what she wished to conceal. George, boy as he was, was reminded they were no longer to be considered children. And thus Mrs. Herbert, in her eagerness to prevent mischief, had produced what she intended to avoid. page: 54-55[View Page 54-55]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 54-55 if 54 ISOLINA. "Alice, you do not know how much I love you," he whispered, blushing as he spoke; and instantly he dis- appeared through the cloth door. A feeling of intense happiness in Alice's childish hedrt followed this assurance. He was only a boy,-but her mother had just reminded her that "boys grew into men." She waited an instant for the little flutter to subside; but the sound of other footsteps approaching made her hurry on. Then, walking composedly into the drawing-room, she sought refuge beside Mrs. Herbert. Dinner was announced. Alice was sent in with Sir Roger Campbell, who made every effort to draw her out; but he afterwards declared that, "though very pretty, she had as little in her as most heiresses." CHAPTER VII. "My true love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange one to the other given. I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss. There never was a better bargain driven: My true love hath my heart, and I have his." SIR PHLIP SYDNEY. MRS. HERBERT watched Alice narrowly that even- ing, and the result of her observations was a resolution to depart as soon as she could do so with propriety, and to separate her daughter from George Mowbray. The Honorable Frederick Mowbray arrived the following morning, but unaccompanied by his friend Lord Castle- ton. He received many a gentle hint from his mother to show attention to the young heiress; but, in spite of her skillful manoeuvring, supported by Mrs. Herbert (who, however, having higher game in view, was less bent on success), Frederick Mowbray persisted in entire indiffer. ence. He had known Alice from her birth, and still con- sidered her a child; for, except in beauty, she appeared to him as-uninteresting as she had been pronounced by Sir Roger Campbell. Frederick Mowbray was just two-and-twenty, of mid- -MtSOLINA. 55 dle height, slender, with regular features, and an air of delicacy which almost bordered on effeminacy. At college he belonged to a set of young men who assumed indolence of manner and absence of mind, as proofs of high breeding and poetic feeling. There was as much youthful affectation as reality in the indifference he dis- played to all active pleasures, and in the excuse of weak health which he pleaded for his choice of the most luxu- rious chair or sofa on which to stretch his weary length or lounge the hours away at pleasure. Young Mowbray had more real claim to the name of poet than his friend Castleton, since he had written verses which bore the stamp of genius. Too early the object of flattering homage and admiration from relations and friends, yet with too much taste not to feel his own deficiency, he had neither the wholesome stimulus of poverty, nor am- bition to mend what was amiss. Frederick Mowbray's talents were destined to lie idle, or only to furnish amuse- ment to a small circle of acquaintances. He had satisfied his father, with little trouble on his part, by gaining high honors at Eton, and he had passed through the ordeal of Cambridge without discredit; anal, whilst popular with young men for his genuine virtues of heart and head, he -was courted by young ladies, or their mammas, for the stronger attractions of wealth and rank. But, though only on the threshold of life, he had talked himself into a belief of an ideal senility to excuse his joining in the diversions of his cotemporaries, although he entertained as great an aversion to wrinkles and the natural accom- paniments of age as he professed to entertain towards love and matrimony. The day Mrs.- Herbert had fixed for her departure, Lady Elton invited her and Alice to join her usual morn- ing ramble. She wished to take them to a little distance r in the park, from whence there was a magnificent view of the surrounding country, by a path through the wood which had always been a favorite walk of Alice's. Though Mrs. Herbert declined encountering so much fatigue before starting on a journey, she permitted her daughter to accompany Lady Elton, on the condition of returning in good time. Frederick Mowbray was to be page: 56-57[View Page 56-57]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 56-57 56 ISOLINA. their escort. Little did Mrs. Herbert anticipate the result of this walk, when she stood at the window overlooking the park, watching, with comfortable satisfaction, the de- parture of her daughter, shielded on one side by the heir of these broad lands, on the other by his mother. They had not proceeded far when George came running after them with a message from his father, requesting to see his mother, as Lord Elton wished to consult her on some business of importance which did not admit of delay. Lady Elton did not like to disappoint Alice, and, after a little consideration, she allowed her to proceed under the charge of her two sons. Frederick offered her his arm, whilst George relieved him from all the trouble of entertainment, as he rattled on in lively talk with Alice. After crossing the green meadow-land which intervened between the house and the rising ground beyond, they struck into a narrow path, winding up the side of the hill in the midst of Scotch fir and larch; now and then starting a rabbit, stopping to watch a squirrel dart up a tree, or listening to the birds, and admiring the peeps of distant prospect, rich in autumnal colors. The fresh air and bright blue sky above harmonized with the buoy- ant spirits of those two young hearts, whose jests and merry laughter resounded through the woods. Their ease was restored, whilst They felt protected, rather than checked, by the presence of the silent, dreamy companion, who willingly resigned to his brother the part he had been expected to play. Mrs. Herbert, meantime, sat in her room, musing and drawing comparisons between Frederick Mowbray and Lord Castleton,-a baron and a duke,-the Pines and Forestmere; weighing possibilities and probabilities; whilst Dawson packed caps and bonnets and gowns, under her direction. After all that has been said against designing mothers, it was neither unnatural nor sinful in this good lady to desire that her daughter should make what she con- sidered a suitable marriage. It was even commendable 'to try and provide a protector and friend for her child, and. to wish to procure that which, in her opinion, would be most conducive to her happiness. Were mnariages ISOLINA. 5 de convenance in vogue in England, she would have gone to work in a more direct business-like way, and, with true mercantile spirit, have offered an equivalent for that which she desired to purchase; but the same transaction, in our country, has to be carried on under the disguise of a union of choice and affection, and she was therefore obliged to resort to intrigue and diplomacy. Her error-the error of too many mothers-was not that she aimed at marrying her daughter, but that, in pursuit of a husband, she attached greater value to the frame than to the intrinsic merits of the picture. As the walking party reached the summit of the wooded hill, they came upon a little moss-house, the first' of a series placed at intervals, from whence they could catch glimpses of the plain, until at the seventh the whole view was revealed to the spectator. Here Frede- rick, much to the amusement of Alice, declared himself quite exhausted, and that he intended to rest until they should return to him., They were no sooner out of sight than he drew forth his cigar, and, stretching his full length upon a bench, gave himself up to the luxury of il dolce far niente. George and Alice walked on, but when they found themselves alone each relapsed gradually into silence, and their lively spirits appeared to have forsaken them. Alice attempted an observation now and then, or made some commonplace remark on the beauty of the lichen or moss or little flowers at their feet. They had proceeded thus about ten minutes when they' reached the spot de- scribed by Lady Elton, whence they could survey the wide extent of plain, with the river, like a blue thread, winding along the centre, whilst the distance was bounded by a fine range of mountains. "How glorious 1" exclaimed Alice. They were both silent a few seconds, lost in the contemplation of the scene before them. "How I should like to see this at sunsetl It is strange that I should have been here so often, and yet that I should never have been to this place in the evening." ' "And why not now?" asked George. "Why does C* page: 58-59[View Page 58-59]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 58-59 58 ISOLINA. your mother take you away from us so soon? I thought you would at least spend a fortnight here." "Mamma had promised to be with the Duchess of Pedantmere on Friday." "Then she might have left you with us. You are not out, you know, and so you would not care to go among a number of strangers." "Indeed I should much rather stay here; but mamma could not part with me, nor I with her, after our long separation." "ong? It seems as if you had only arrived yester- day. What a happy time we have had, Alice I I wish it were all to begin over again l" "So do I." "And I expected the journey to be such a bohr* I didn't think I should ever have cared as I do now for pictures and statues and that sort of thing. I am not such a stupid fellow as I was before you came to us. It will be dull enough for me when you are gone. I am not going back to Eton,-that is one comfort. Some like it, and some say they like it because they are afraid to say otherwise; but I always hated it. Did you ever see Castleton?"- "Yes; I saw him two or three times last spring." "He left Eton two years after 'I went there, and he and Frederick were prodigious cronies; but Frederick never knew how he tormented me. He's a regular tyrant. I was so glad when he left, and that's four years ago; and, though Eton was better afterwards, I never did, and never could, like it." "Well, but you have done with Eton, long ago?" "Yes; but I am going to sea again." "And do you not like that?", "Don't I, though?-jolly I only I sha'n't see you for a long time, Alice, and you will forget us all here." "I should not forget you, if we' were going to a much greater distance than we now are. I wish mamma would stay a little longer." "Can't you ask her?/ My mother will miss you so. She said, only yesterday, she felt as if you were her own daughter." ISOLINA. 59 "It is getting late, George. I promised to be back in good time;" and Alice looked at the tiny gold watch at her side. "This view is very, very lovely, but we must return now, or what will mamma say?" "Hang your mother, Alice! she won't mind. I beg your pardon,-but I am sure she can't want you yet." Nevertheless, Alice!ed the way, hastening her steps as she descended from the path by which they had reached this opening, and took another, which, George assured her, would lead by a shorter cut across the park. "I have not offended you, Alice?" "No; but you should not speak so disrespectfully of mamma." "I did not mean it; only I am vexed with her for taking you away. Don't, walk so fast, Alice; we shall not be too long together. And when I think that we may never meet again---" "Impossible, George I we are both so young." "Dearest Alice, will you promise not to forget mel? Will you love me as I love you, and never marry any other?" "Mamma would be so angry. What shall I do?" ex- claimed Alice, standing still, and looking through tear- ful eyes, half terrified, at her youthful lover. Yet she gave him both her hands, as she added, softly, "Yes, George; I do love you, and I will never love another as I do you." , "You are an heiress, Alice, and many will want to marry you. I know my mother would like you to marry Frederick; but he does not care for you a bit as I do. And your mother would like you to marry that fellow Castleton; and he would make your life miserable.". "I wish I had no money; then nobody would wish to marry me except-- except you." "It may be many years yet, Alice,-for it will take a long time before I rise to be a captain, and I shall not be able to ask your mother's consent until then; and you will have fifty offers when I am far from you, and your mother will want you to marry some rich or great man. But, Alice dear, remember then, none can love you as page: 60-61[View Page 60-61]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 60-61 60 ISOLINA. I do; for I don't care for your money or anything but yourself. Then promise you won't take any one but me." "I promise you, George," said Alice, demurely look- ing down as she spoke the words. George took up a little locket, containing her father's hair, which hung to her watch. "Give me this as a pledge that you will not forget me. Hlways think of you with it since that day when you ropped it on the Righi, and I found it half-way down." "Oh, yes! What a delightful day that was I But I ought not to part with that, dear George: my father gave it me himself, when I was byt a small child, the year before he died." "Then it shall never leave me: it shall be a pledge to me that, had he lived, he would not have refused his con- sent to us." With some difficulty the locket was separated from the ring to which itrwas fastened, and George hastily hid it, as the rustling amidst the brushwood warned them they were overheard. The next moment Frederick's imperturbable features peered through the wood above them. "Confound these thorns I I heard you two talking beloW, and I have been trying to get at you this age; but if I had known what I had to encounter, I should not have made the attempt. What brought you this way, George?" "Nothing but the intention to make a short cut, as Alice is impatient to get back." "Humphl I do not wonder at her impatience; you have been a pretty long quarter of an hour contemplating the view. I have finished my cigar, and was first roused by-the gong from the house, and, secondly, by the sound of your voices below me." "Is it so late?" exclaimed Alice. "What will mamma say?" "You had better make the best of your way home now," said Frederick, as he withdrew his head; "I shall return to the path above, and join you when you reach the level ground." m ISOLINA. 61 "Alice," said George, the instant his brother was out of hearing, "will you write to me when I go to sea?" "I cannot promise that; but I can ask mamma." "But our engagement must be a secret, Alice; no one must know it: for your mother and mP mother would never allow it." "Is it not wrong, then, George?" asked Alice. "Wrongl It is wrong of them to think of selling you for rank and greatness; not wrong of us to love, and wait patiently for their consent before we marry." "Do not speak so of mamma." "I won't, if you promisb me to keep our secret." "I will," said Alice, who would at that moment have promised anything George desired,-but with a trouble at her conscience, which made the words falter. They had reached the end of the path, and Frederick joined them. As soon as they arrived at the house, Alice ran up-stairs, and, hastening to her own room, she encountered her mother, waiting for her. Mrs. Herbert had been in search of her daughter. Luncheon was already half over, and her temper was ruffled,-first, by the non-appearance of Alice when she expected her, secondly, by finding that Lady Elton had left her, to the protection of her sons. "What is the meaning of this, Alice?" she demanded. "Where have you been all this time, with your two beaux? I must say, your behavior is quite indecorous; every- body asking for you, and at this late hour returning." "Mamma, mamma, I could not help it l" ' Not help it, indeed I Why, it was wholly your doing; you had only to say you wished to return, and there was no one to hinder you. But make haste now, and put your hair a little tidy before you appear. I will go down and make your apology." Mrs. Herbert, having given way to this slight ebulli- tion of anger, was appeased. After all, her daughter had returned, and she had spent the time she had been absent from her with the Honorable Frederick Mowbray; whilst his brother, the midshipman, could hardly be a formidable rival, and had preserved decorum. She was still further satisfied, when, on returning to the luncheon- 6 page: 62-63[View Page 62-63]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 62-63 62 ISOLINA. table, Frederick Mowbray assured her that Alice had a charming taste for scenery, and that he had seldom passed so agreeable a morning. CHAPTER VIII., "This child, so lovely and so cherub-like (No fairer spirit in the heaven of heavens), ! Say, must he know remorse? must passion come,-- Passion in all or any of its shapes,-- To cloud and sully what is now so pure?" ROGERS. ALTICE believed herself in love. Heiress as she was, accustomed to flattery from her infancy, it was yet a new and delightful sensation to discover herself an object of de- yotion, even though her worshiper was only a school- -boy. During the first days of her visit at Forestmere her thoughts frequently reverted to her young lover at the Pines; and if the variety of amusements, and the kindness she received from the new people by whom she was surrounded, made her for the moment forget him, a fit of shyness, or a reproof from her mother, would re- vive the recollection that she was secure of one partial judgment, and she then believed herself inconsolable for his absence, and was confirmed in her resolution never to admit the attentions of another. Mrs. Herbert ob- served Alice's absence of mind whenever they were left tete-a-tete; the mother had her suspicions as to the cause of this change in -her daughter's behavior, and accused Lady Elton of deceit, and of endeavoring to secure a prize for her younger rather than for her elder son. She was resolved to wring the secret from Alice, and- success was less difficult where the daughter was as eager to divulge as the mother to hear. Her promise to George had alone restrained Alice from disclosing all that had passed, without loss of time, and Mrs. Herbert's impor- tunity and questions required no more explicit answers I I * ISOLINA. . 63 than Alice's downcast eyes and blushes. She entreated lier not to acquaint Lady Elton with what had occurred, to which her mother the more readily consented as she. was now convinced that she ,had - the game in her own- hands. Whatever might have been Lady Elton's design, George would in a few weeks be safe out of harm's way, in some distant port; and Alice was so young that his place in her heart could easily be supplied by another lover. Mrs. Herbert could thus, without danger, pretend ignorance of what she now believed to have been Lady Elton's intentions, whilst continuing her intimacy with the family. This was convenient on every account. Mrs. Herbert's property of Ravenscombe lay within fifteen miles of the Pines, and they were therefore county neighbors. The Eltons belonged to that favored and ex- clusive circle dignified by the name of County Families,-a peculiar aristocracy, comprising nobles and gentry of ancient descent, all of them landed proprietors, and the natural enemies of new wealth and new families, whom they regard as intruders and invaders of their inalien- able rights. To these last numbers Mrs. Herbert by birth belonged. She therefore doubly valued the privi- lege of admission within their gates. A still more cogent reason made her desirous of maintaining good terms with the Eltons: her present aim for her daughter of the heir to a dukedom might fail, and in that case the future Lord Elton might prove an acceptable son-in-law. She had the prudence not to blame George, or to treat the affair seriously. to Alice, but received her confession with a burst of laughter at so juvenile a lover, whose passion, she. assured her daughter, would be cured by a month of salt water. Alice felt very uncomfortable, and a little inclined to be angry; she was ashamed of herself, and began to be ashamed of her youthful admirer, especially when officers and collegians of maturer age, assembled for the shooting at the castle, vied with one another for the honor of her hand at the evening's dance, or who should pay her the most flattering compliments when seated next 'her at table. Had Alice been some years older, she would have been playing the part of a coqiette; but at fifteen she was still a child, gratified 'by the atten- page: 64-65[View Page 64-65]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 64-65 " ISOLINA. tions of the hour. She loved George, however, with all the warmth of her girlish -heart, and when the excite- ment of this visit and itf first recollections were past, her affection for him, whidh was in reality unchanged, re- turned in all its fervor. The young men of fashion she had met at the Duchess of Pedantmere's could not indeed stand any comparison with the genuine kind-hearted boy who had been her playmate from infancy. Lord Castleton's tall, gaunt figure was an index to his mind. The self-importance which had been fostered in him by parents and servants from the auspicious moment of J his birth, had received a fresh stimulus by the honors he had won at school and at the university. With more than the usual average of ability, and an assiduity which was directed to an honorable aim, he had earned for himself well-merited praise. The rank he had thus obtained in the republic of letters and science, united with that which he i inherited from his ancestors, confirmed in him the idea of his present and future greatness, and he was unconscious that nature had but sparingly bestowed on him what con- stitutes the noblest part of a man. He possessed little heart,-a defect too often met with in those who, however - endowed with great talents,- have been led to centre all their aspirations in self, whether in pursuit of the world's homage or of fame, or even in the cultivation of their own powers. Lord Castleton's only sister, Lady Emmeline, was some years older than himself, and, though plain and unprepossessing, was his superior in abilities as well as years. She was, however, dutiful in her allegiance to the male representatives of the family, and her influence over him was the greater, that he believed her to be under his guidance. He was flattered by the homage from a sister who had talent and cultivation to appreciate the serious studies in which he was engaged, and to which he de- voted so much of his time. Though Lord Castleton Oas engrossed in study, he was open to the consideration that an additional twenty thousand a year was not to be de- spised; but he left the courtship of Alice and Mrs. Her- bert to his mother, for he had resolved not to marry for a couple of years, and he felt secure that the heiress was too young to be snatched from him by another. Neither e' A - ISOLINA. 65 could her mother have the folly to prefer a marriage of affection for her daughter to a ducal coronet. Alice left Forestmere with her heart unscathed, and. Mrs. Herbert, hardly thinking it safe to return to: the neighborhood of the Pines, took -her a tour in the lake country and Wales; and-it was not until the week pre- ceding Christmas- .that they returned to RaveDscombe, which the heiress had not seen since her journey abroad. Before many days had elapsed, Mrs. Herbert drove over to the Pines to call on Lady Elton. She found her expecting a farewell visit from her son Frederick, who was starting for Nice, whither he had been ordered on account of health. The Christmas-party was therefore at an end; the Eltons were to be alone, with the exception of Miss Mowbray and little Isolina, who Lord Elton had good-na- turedly insisted should accompany his sister. The child had suffered from the confinement of a London life, and Ellinor consented to bring her as soon as she had ob- tained the leave of Mrs. Camelli. Lord Elton extended his invitation to Lupo, who had suffered even more than Isolina from a town residence; and Ellinor resolved, whilst at the Pines, to look out for some quiet little cottage where she could finally establish the widow. She-believed that she could carry on Isolina's education herself dur- ing the summer months, which she usually spent at the Pines, and where, by her brother's special desire, she had always her own suite of rooms and that in the winter and spring, Mrs. Camelli, if near the country town where she had been brought up, might renew old friendship, and be induced to part with her daughter for the benefit of masters and other advantages in town. Lady Elton rather dreaded a t6te-d-tete with her sister- in-law, and she therefore gladly seized the opportunity of Mrs. Herbert's visit to obtain a promise that she and Alice would spend a fortnight or three weeks at the Pines and help to cheer them after the departure of their eldest son. "It was bad enough," she added, "to part with our dear George, who was appointed to a ship sooner than we expected. Anm I not a good mother, Mrs. Herbert, to think so much of that boy, ,who is only my younger son? but he is so lively and good-tempered, he is always the life of 6* page: 66-67[View Page 66-67]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 66-67 " - ISOLINA. the house." Mrs. Herbert fancied she perceived a motive in Lady Elton's words, and stiffly acquiesced. Before the arrival of Mrs. Herbert at the Pines, Isolina had crept into Lady Elton's good graces; and, much to the amusement of Ellinor, her sister-in-law when super- intending the gardener at his work, or about the house ;giving directions to her housekeeper, or with the man of business conversing on matters appertaining to the vil- lage school, the sick, and the poor, or giving orders to some tradesmen from town for new looking-glasses, pic- tures, frames, or other furniture, was seldom without a little fairy form tripping by her side,-sometimes looking up with large attentive eyes at her, or at the beautiful pictures, in which Isolina took unusual interest for her age, and sometimes running a message for Lady Elton, which was faithfully delivered. She was even more noticed and caressed by Lord Elton; and Ellinor rejoiced to see the child she so loved becoming a favorite with those most dear to her. No one, however, was more fascinated by Isolina's infantine charms and winning ways than Alice. She watched her with the half maternal interest which a young girl so frequently feels towards a child, and Isolina was her chief amusement in those long days when the Pines offered her no other companion and no better diver- sion. After the late breakfast, Mrs. Herbert regularly brought her interminable worsted-work into the drawing- room, and sat down with the deliberate purpose of wast- ing three precious hours in gossip with every chance comer, or in listening to the exercises Alice dutifully per- formed on the piano. A drive in the afternoon, to return at five for tea and for repose, an hour on the sofa with a novel in her hand, before dressing for dinner, completed the labors of the day. Alice, meanwhile, spent most of her time with Miss Mowbray, who, accompanied by Isolina and Lupo, sketched in the surrounding country, if the weather admitted, or read some interesting work of history or biography in her boudoir; Isolina sat work- ing beside her, or writing from a copy, and half an hour's music-lesson to her little pupil completed Ellinor's con- scientious duties as an instructress. Alice enjoyed these ISOLINA. 6T quiet mornings, as well as her ride or walk in the after- noon; whilst, generally, for an hour before dinner, Fred- erick Mowbray would join his aunt in her apartments, or. in a stroll in the garden. He more than respected George's regard for Alice, and she was gratified by the kind and brotherly attentions he bestowed on her, so different from thee neglect of formier visits; whilst Isolina was enchanted with games of play, of which none would have supposed the poet and fine gentleman of the drawing-room capable. All at the Pines missed Frederick on his departure. His father and mother naturally felt the separation from the son who had never been farther from them than school or college; his aunt was truly sorry to bid good- by for so many months to a beloved nephew; and Isolina cried as if she had known him all her life. Mrs. Her- bert found the Pines All at once very dull and Alice's heart reproached her again for having thought too little of George whilst amusing herself with his brother. The afternoon of the day the traveler left them, Alice started with Isolina and Lupo for a ramble in the woods. The two young girls, in spite of the difference of their ages, had become more and more companions to each other. Alice was as young for her years as Isolina was advanced for hers, and the heiress had often secretly longed to confide the history of her love to her little friend. A first offer, at fifteen, gives a girl importance in her own eyes, and it is difficult to conceal a fact of which we desire to boast. In the course of this day's walk, Alice and her com- panion happened to reach the very spot where George made his declaration of love; and, throwing herself on the bank, she sat a few moments lost in happy recollections. She had not given George up, though she would have been ashamed to have acknowledged it to her mother. As she sat with her hair disordered, and her broad- brimmed hat casting a shadow over her forehead, which gave greater brilliancy to the white and red of her com- plexion and lips, Isolina, who was already a worshiper of beauty, danced round her with delight, calling her her fairy queen, and insisting on decking her out with ivy-leaves, as not a wild flower was to be found. page: 68-69[View Page 68-69]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 68-69 68 ISOLINA. "There 1" she said, laughing; " now you look as beau- tiful as Titania, and you must call your fairies to help you." "I want no fairy but yourself, Isolina," said Alice, sighing. "Why do you sigh, Alice? Are you unhappy?" And the wild child, with softened tone and expression, bent over her friend and looked up in her face. "Yiou are sorry Mr. Mowbray is gone?" "Perhaps so," said Alice, blushing ; "but--" "So am I," said Isolina. "I wish he could have stayed a little longer." "It is not that which makes me sigh, you foolish child, but something else,--something which happened herb." "Here? Oh, do tell me I Is it a secret? I am sure it is I Do, do tell it me." "If you are so absurd, Isolina, I cannot; but if--" " "Oh, I will be so grave, so quiet, now," she said, seat. ing herself demurely beside Alice, and pursing up her little mouth into a comical expression of solemnity, whilst her eyes sparkled with laughter. Alice shook her head. "Do, do tell me, dearest Alice!" And Isolina folded her arms round her, and laid her head lovingly on her shoulder. "a I did not think you were so curious, Isolina." "Ought I not to be curious about everything which concerns you?? "My dear little Isolina," said Alice, assuming an air of grave superiority, " there are things you cannot un- derstand " $ "I will tell you when I do not understand them. Oh, I know: you are going to be married!" "No, not exactly," said Alice, blushing again. The confidence was not, however, now long delayed to the eager listener, who sat nestling at her side, with mouth and eyes wide open, expressing all the interest she felt in the first real love-tale. They were thus seated, when Miss Mowbray dis- covered them. She approached unseen, so earnest were both in conversation. Her artist eye enjoyed the contrast of the fair, slender Alice with the darker complexion and ISOLINA. 69 round infantine form of Isolina ; the shaggy dog at their feet helped to complete the picture, which was brougtht into pleasant harmony by the soft light of the winter sun. and the brown shadow from the trees. Still more did. Ellinor's woman's heart yearn with affection towards the two innocent beings, whose paths in life might one day lead so far apart. Both started as she seated herself beside them. Alice looked half guilty, and she attempted to hide her con- fusion by remarks on the view before them; but Isolina sprang into Ellinor's arms, with an exclamation of glad surprise. "Alice was telling me," she began, but checked herself suddenly, and looked inquiringly into her young friend's face. "Isolina, how foolish! I was only telling her-- " "I thought you had no secrets from Miss Mowbray," said the little girl. "If Alice told you anything, my love, as a secret, it was intended for you alone. I have perfect confidence in you both, and I am sure that all must be right between you two; so now let us talk of something else. What a pretty spot you have chosen I It was a favorite lounging-place of mine, and of your mother's, Isolina, when we were young girls." "Oh, Miss Mowbray I but I should so like to tell you all," said Alice. "I am not sure if it is all right, and I should like to ask your advice. Mamma only laughs; but I khow it is serious." "Tell me, then, my dear, if you please; I am all at- tention. " Alice turned her head away, as Ellinor put her arm round her waist and drew her nearer to her. The story was told over again, but this time accompanied by tears, as she confessed the indecision of her own mind, her betrayal of George's confidence to her mother, and the ridicule with which it had been received. "George has been a pet of mine from his boyhood, Alice," said Miss Mowbray, as the tale ended, " and so you may believe how interested I am in all you have told me He is an honest, affectionate boy, and will, no doubt, page: 70-71[View Page 70-71]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 70-71 To ISOLINA. grow up worthy of one so good as you are, my dear girl. But you are both very young. He will have nothing but his midshipman's pay and an allowance from his father, for some years to come; and it is quite natural that your mother should4 disapprove of an engagement at your ages, i of which you may by-and-by repent. You will both see many you prefer, before you can either of you think of marriage; and, if not, some years hence will be time enough to consider anything serious." "I am sure George will be true to me."' "He may, but he may not; he thinks he will, I have no doubt, and so do you. But meantime, Alice, you have much to learn, much that is dull and prosaic enough, but many pleasant things, too, before you ought seriously to think of love and marriage. Don't waste your time or trouble your conscience with that dear, silly boy: he will be desperately in love with twenty charming young ladies before he sees you again." Alice looked somewhat disconcerted at this view of her love-passage, and Isolina became serious, and won- dered how her dear Miss Mowbray could be so cruel. Ellinor's own heart reproached her a little too, and, as she rose, she took Alice's hand, and kissed away the tear of mortification which was stealing down her cheek. They walked on towards the house without any further remarks, and when they met at dinner their usually lively spirits appeared to h4ve forsaken them. The flatness of the evening was attributed by Lord and Lady Elton and Mrs. Herbert to the absence of Frederick, and the rest of the party kept their secret. r ISOLINA. . 1 CHAPTER IX. "This, thy present happy lot, This in time will be forgot; Other pleasures, other cares, Ever busy time prepares." A. PHLLIPS. Miss MOWBRAY succeeded in obtaining a pretty cottage for Mrs. Camelli on the outskirts of her brother's park. It stood, with a beech wood to the back, on the highway to Woodford, only separated from the road by a little strip of garden, and was within ten minutes' walk of the suburbs of the town. Though retired, it was not soli- tary, as the gardener's house belonging to the Pines was close at hand, and the frequent sound of cart- or carriage- wheels, and the voices of passers-by on the road, especi- ally on a market-day, prevented all possibility of that utter stillness which is so depressing and even gives a sense of insecurity to those accustomed to the noises and bustle of a city life. The widow had sighed for the country when in London, and now that she was estab- lished in the country she began to sigh for London; the cottage was too cold, or too hot, or too noisy, or too dull. Mrs. Camelli could not be happy without something to grumble at, and was always craving for some fresh ear, into which to pour her grievances. If she received an occasional visit from the Pines, Lord or Lady Elton con- tinued for a week afterwards to be pronounced all that was charming and amiable; but if another week passed without their appearance at the' cottage, Mrs. Camelli expatiated with as much vehemence on their neglect, their worldliness and pride. Like many persons who have nothing to do, the widow was gradually sinking into a state of chronic misery, which was undoubtedly increased by-weak bodily health. Miss Mowbray bore all her complaints with exemplary patience. But, as she became better acquainted with Mrs. Camelli's disposition, " - ' i page: 72-73[View Page 72-73]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 72-73 72 ISOLINA. she felt the more grieved at the fretful selfishness which she foresaw would render her daughter's life less-happy. Ellinor's attachment to Isolina was an additional motive to bear this most wearisome, if not severe, of trials. She endeavored to mitigate it, by persuading some of Mrs. Ca- melli's old friends in Woodford to renew an acquaintance which had been dropped for years: a little gossip and harm- less scandal, whilst diverting the widow's mind from her own grievances to those of her neighbors, would, she thought, give her an occupation she liked, and some- what improve her temper with her happiness. Ellinor watched the effect of Mrs. Camelli's character on the character of Isolina, and she was pleased to observe the principles she herself had sown, in a naturally good'soil, already springing up, and that the filial affection of her pupil was sufficiently strong to overcome promptings of impatience and resentment under constant petty provocations. During the summer and autumn months, most of which time Ellinor usually spent at the Pines, she de- voted part of every day to the instruction of Isolina; and she was grateful to Mrs. Camelli when she consented to part with her for a couple of months, in the spring, to accompany her beloved friend and teacher to town,- and where Miss Mowbray gave her the advantage of the best masters London could afford. But Mrs. Camelli would not have resolved on the sacrifice had she not possessed what she considered a treasure in Rebecca. Re- becca loved money; but she was fully aware, for reasons best known to herself and to Mrs. Camelli, that her mis- tress would strain her means to the utmost rather than part with her, and her wages, paid half by Miss Mow- bray, were already higher than she would probably have received elsewhere. She had, besides, an old- affection for the widow, whom she had served many years, and she loved Isolina with as much tenderness as her nature was capable of feeling. Rebecca was greatly in awe of Miss Mowbray, whom she disliked and' regarded as an intruder into the family, but she could not very well see bow they could get on without her. Isolina considered her happiest days those in which ISOLINA. 73 Alice Herbert paid a visit to the Pines. Alice never failed to run down to the cottage as soon as she arrived, and many hours were consumed in rambles amidst the woods with her little companion and their faithful escort Lupo. The child worshiped the young girl, and when once or twice she was invited to pass a week at Ravenscombe, where she beheld her goddess in her temple, she ap- peared to her, indeed, the realization of the Fairy Queen. Alice returned the admiration in degree, if not in kind. Isolina was her darling, her pet, her ideal of all that is most lovely and most lovable in childhood. The heiress became unconsciously a medium to smooth down the rough, edges of prejudice, and to open a way for the little forlorn orphan into everybody's heart; and, once admitted, none could resist the charm of her ingenuous, truthful nature, or her singular beauty and grace. Meantime, Alice was completing her education. She spoke or read with ease French, Italian, and German, drew and painted with taste, played on the piano with execution, and could imitate with tolerable success the manner of the best opera-singers. Her voice was loud rather than melodious, her ear incorrect, and want of suf- ficient practice caused an immeasurable distance between the artist and the amateur; but her performance was pro- nounced wonderful, as no doubt it was, and her mother was satisfied. Not so the young lady herself, who pos- sessed, besides accomplishments, good sense, good taste, and modesty; and she therefore acknowledged that her greatest gain from the variety of her studies was an in- creased power of appreciating excellence in others. At eighteen a girl's education is too often supposed to cease, and, indeed, she is generally in' advance of a youth of the same age in the acquisition of various branches of learning. But, with the key to knowledge in her" pos- session, she remains lingering on the threshold, whilst her cotemporaries of the other sex pass by and enter. Alice was indebted for her best education, for all that gave strength and depth to her gentle nature, to her intercourse with Miss Mowbray. Two important years of her life had thus not been spent in vain. She was now, however, to be introduced into the gay D 7 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 74-75 74 -- ISOLINA. world, and she was taken. up to London to be presented at court. Isolina heard with delight, unmixed with envy, of the jewels, rich dress, and dazzling beauty of her friend, and that Miss Herbert was the admired of all admirers. Once launched, the heiress was borne along' the usual stream of dissipation,-late breakfasts, a ride in the Park, visits, dinners, the opera, and the ball. It was at a ball that she again met George Mowbray after an interval of five years, most of which he had spent in the West Indies. He had, indeed, returned home once during this time, when allowed leave of absence from his ship on account of health. Mrs. Herbert had, however, been duly apprised, and bad sedulously avoided the Pines, where the only being with whom George had talked of Alice was Isolina. She was ready to answer every ques- tion, unconscious that she was doing any wrong, whilst faithfully, and by the first opportunity, conveying his parting messages to her friend. The five years which had intervened before Alice and George met again had so altered his appearance that she did not at first recognize him; but if she hesitated to believe that the tall, sunburnt sailor was theb same being as the chubby-faced stripling she remembered as her juvenile lover, he had not a moment's doubt as to the identity of the fashionable and beautiful girl in tulle and artificial flowers, with his simple Alice. Nothing had changed those soft blue eyes, the modest blush of hier cheek, or the sunny radiance of her silken hair; she. was still his Alice, as he perceived when, with his old smile, he drew out the little locket, which he had ever carefully preserved, and reminded her of years gone by. As she recognized George, the thoughts of certain flirtations, with sundry idle hopes and fears which had at various times caused flutterings at her heart, vanished like dreams, and she felt as if they had never parted. There was something to be explained on either side; but before the end of the first waltz George had learned why Alice had never answered his letters, and Alice had been satisfied that she was his only as well as his first love. From that hour his attentions were renewed in a manner which gave serious cause for uneasiness to Mrs. Herbert: her ISOLINA. 5 frowns were all in vain, her repulses disregarded; before the season was over, George Mowbray's offer was made in due form, and Alice, who had rejected -several brilliant prospects of marriage, appeared willing to accept the band of a second son, with nothing except his pay. But she was not yetL' own mistress, and, in spite of her tears and entreatei, Mrs. Herbert forbade all further inter- course between the lovers. George went to sea, trusting in his mistress's parting promises of fidelity, and Mrs. Herbert devoted all her skill to cure her daughter of this romantic passion. She knew fthat persecution would only plant that more deeply which she wished to eradicate, and she therefore resorted to other means. She even gave Alice hopes that she might consent to their union at some future time. The discovery that Dawson had been assisting her young mistress to write secretly to her lover not only led to the dismissal of this faithful servant, but presented Mrs. Herbert with an opportunit of proving to her daughter the impropriety not alone f her conduct, but even of her feelings towards George. She wisely allowed Alice's first burst of indignation and grief to subside, and then opened upon her with such a volley of maternal eloquence that the poor girl, over- whelmed, -with shame at her own supposed want of delicacy and womanly modesty, yielded so far as to con- fess she had, in this instance, acted wrongly; Her mother had persuaded her ,that she had by her clandes. tine correspondence lowered her dignity even in the eyes of her lover, who,' however well intentioned now might in time form other attachments, and she had thus exposed herself to future serious embarrassments. Alice nsisted that George's attachment to herself was unalter- able ; but her faltering voice assured her mother that she Was not so secure as she endeavored to appear. How- !ver that might be, Mrs. Herbert had gained a victory f nd other opportunities presented themselves a few nonths later to complete her conquest. Whilst Alice and George Mowbray, the playmates of solina's childhood, were thus advancing in the hard essons of this world's experience, the little maiden her- elf was pursuing a course of serious study in books, in . page: 76-77[View Page 76-77]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 76-77 76 ISOLINA. art, and in music. Miss Mowbray was desirous not only to train her for a profession by which she might earn a livelihood, but to develop all- the faculties of her head and heart. In the fictitious world of fashion Isolina would probably always occupy a humble position, cori. pared with that of her former companions, but she was preparing to fill a higher place in the reality of existence. She had to win for herself this place which is accorded to others at the outset, and she was acquiring strength to meet life bravely, and to become a useful and, Miss Mowbray hoped, a happy woman. Ellinor gave her every advantage ill her power, and was pleased to find the zest with which her efforts were responded to by the young girl. Music was the science in which Isolina promised to excel, and this was accordingly cultivated with most assiduity, though a liberal general educa- tion wasfitting her to undertake any work to which she should in after-life be disposed to turn more exclusively. The charms of her person and manners had not been neglected, whilst in the daily petty trials of her home Isolina was acquiring habits of self-command and for- bearance, with the gentle art of managing without thwarting another's temper. Ellinor watched with un- ceasing interest the growth of virtues in her beloved adopted child, but when looking at her bright, happy face, she could not-help sometimes trembling with anxiety, as she knew how little Isolina could foresee the trials and sorrows awaiting her. Happy is that ignorance which enables us to encounter life fearlessly whilst we are strong in youth, stronger in :the hope that will not be discouraged, and impatient with the restless craving for active exertion! I But a change which neither of them had contemplated was impending over the lives of both mistress and pupil. There was one person who had resolved that Ellinor Mowbray should not die in single blessedness, and tha:t person was her former and still persevering lover, Sir Roger Campbell. Thbugh more, than once rejected,l he was resolved to try his fortune again. Ellinor had always respected and esteemed Sir Roger, and his views and opinions in most respects agreed with I ISOIINA. " Ier own; but when, in the full blaze of her youth and beauty, the brightest star in the society of wit and fashion which surrounded her father,'Sir Roger's less brilliant attractions had failed to win her. His calm good sense, and quiet, unobtrusive gentleness of manner, had ap- peared like coldness, and, much as she admired' his various accomplishments and sympathized with his philanthropy, neither had captivated her heart. It is rare to meet with a gentleman in the true sense of the word; one in whom genuine grace of thought is expressed by word and deed, whilst taking no credit to himself for performing the kindest action in the kindest' manner. Sit Roger Campbell's good breeding rested on the only sodnd basis,-a just sense of what is due to others, combined with habitual self-respect. Nature had not endowed him with great talents nor with a handsome person; he was slightly lame from an accident when a boy; but he had a simple dignity, arising from-the absence of all pretension. Without attaching more value to such advantages than they are worth; he was quite aware of the position which he was entitled to hold, as the representative of a good name and the possessor of a good fortune; but he considered that he held both as in trust, as means to promote the welfare of others, and be did not place them on a level with his higher claims to respect as a man. Ellinor had learned at last to know and to love, him she had once rejected, and to consider it an honor to have won his regard. She still esteemed him only in the light of a friend; then s interest in Isolina, which was at first for the sake of her benefactress, but after- wards for herself, allmost sensibly awoke the warmer feeling, which bad slumbered so long. Before many months had passed ajy, Miss Mowbray had consented to become the wife-f Sir Roger Campbell. How Isolina tried to rejoice the day she heard that her two friends were to be united! How she strove to re- assure her mother, who did nothing but lament and de- clare that they would now be abandoned and how indignantly she spurned Rebecca's ill-natured comments, page: 78-79[View Page 78-79]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 78-79 '8 ISOLINA. /, I . ' as, bridling her head, that worthy woman jerked out short sentences to the effect that she had known all along how it would end; that she had never liked Miss Mow- bray; that she had no notion of some people making a parade of benevolence, and then forsaking the widow and the orphan, or of old maids marrying and making fools of themselves (Rebecca was a widow), and not being contented with where Providence had placed them, wanting to better themselves by cheating everybody else's just expectations. She hoped Miss Mowbray might be happy, though contrary to all right and reason; to which Mrs. Camelli groaned an audible Amen. In spite of Rebecca's forebodings, after the marriage had taken place the widow and the orphan, far from being forsaken, were doubly cared for. Sir Roger's in- terest in Isolina increased, and Miss Mowbray, as Lady Campbell, was no less her devoted friend and benefac- tress. But when, two years afterwards, Sir Roger's health obliged them to pass a winter on the Continent, Re- becca's prognostications were renewed with fresh vehe- mence. It was with a heavy heart that Ellinor prepared to part with her child (as she loved to call Isolina) just as she was on the verge of entering upon life. Isolina was hardly seventeen, and for another year she was to continue her studies, but alone, and without the encour- agement and assistance of her two friends. Sir Roger proposed taking her with them abroad, but Ellinor would not tefipt her to leave her mothervfor such a distance. She bade her write frequently, and desired that she should not resolve on any profession without first consulting her and her husband. Lady Campbell had wished her to begin by giving lessons in music, and had intended that she should make her home with her until she could es- tablish herself and her mother in a comfortable house of her own. This scheme must now be abandoned. Lady Elton promised to befriend the young girl until her sister-in-law's return, and Ellinor and Isolina parted with tearful eyes and quivering lips. Neither could utter a word until, as the carriage, was driving off from the Pines, Lady Campbell made an effort to bid Isolina be rIOLINA. '19 of good courage, though her own had wellnigh forsaken her. All returned into the house except the orphan girl, who ran back to the cottage, slipped in unperceived by her mother, and, whilst none missed her at the Hall, lay sobbing on herbed, feeling she was indeed forsaken and alone. , CHAPTER X. "They slander thee sorely who say thy rows are frail; Hadst thou been a false one, thy cheek had looked less pale." WHEN George Mowbray had parted with Alice, his vows of eternal constancy were as earnest as ever were uttered and believed by sailor before quitting his native shore; but time and change of scene will sometimes alter the course of affection with the current of ideas. Good interest was exerted in his behalf, and at the early age of three-and-twenty he was promoted to a captaincy over the heads of older and perhaps more deserving officers. His ship was ordered to the Mediterranean, where he spent an agreeable winter, cruising in various directions; and when the Endymion was anchored off Nice, he was delighted to find old friends who had been spending several weeks there before his arrival. Lady Emmeline Castleton, the young lady whom Mrs. Herbert had always held up as an example to Alice, had been ordered to spend a winter abroad for her health, and the Duke and Duchess of Pedantmere were this year the leaders of fashion in the motley assemblage from all nations who crowded the hotels and furnished apartments of the Franco-Italian city. A ball was given by the English to the officers of the frigate arrived in harbor; and Cap- tain Mowbray was kindly welcomed by the Duke of Pedantmere, who gave him a free invitation to his house. Lady Emmeline, though plain in person, was clever, and when she pleased could make herself agreeable; and a page: 80-81[View Page 80-81]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 80-81 80 ISOI INA. young and pretty cousin staying with them added to the attractions of the Pedantmeres' society. Ada Trevylian was the daughter of a sister of the duchess's, who, with her husband, Colonel Trevylian, resided at Malta; and she had been allowed to visit her aunt in Nice, where she was considered the belle of the season. A certain resemblance which Ada bore to Alice Her- bert was her greatest charm in the eyes of George Mow- bray; but, surrounded as she was by admirers, and guarded by the lynx-eyed Lady Emmeline, who was not a little jealous of the homage paid to her young cousin, he had not much chance allowed him of cultivating Miss Trevylian's acquaintance. - The duchess and Lady Em- meline were all attention and kindness; and what sailor was ever proof against female flattery? Lady Emmeline was five-and-twenty, and her home far from happy; her mother's temper was as irritable as her own, and, from inferiority of cultivation as well as natural incapacity, the duchess was -unable -to sympa- thize with her daughter's tastes or pursuits. Her father was a constant invalid, and his life precarious. Should he die, Lady Emmeline would be left with a very small for- tune, dependent on her mother. The duke had lived fast, and his son would hardly inherit enough to clear the debts on the property. Captain Mowbray was an eligible, if not an ambitious, aim for the daughter of the Duke of Pedantmere. - He belonged to their county and their set; he was, lively, accomplished, handsome, and-there was no other lover forthcoming. In- Nice they had frequent opportunities of seeing one another, and on terms of in- timacy which the English allow themselves abroad. The idea of a suitable marriage at last, which had dawned faintly on Lady Emmeline when she first saw Captain Mowbray soon after his arrival in Nice, was growing rapidly into a more tender sentiment on her side. She flattered herself that the conversations he sought with her were for her own sake, and she little suspected the mo- tive which induced Captain Mowbray to lead her to talk of balls at Pedantmere House, and other events of equal importance during the last London season, or that the careless allusions and apparently indifferent questions by ISOLINA. 81 which he drew her,to speak of various mutual acquaint- ances were only intended to gain information about one person in whom he was peculiarly interested. Once, when George remarked the resemblance Miss Trevylian bore to Miss Herbert, Lady Emmeline replied that her brother had made the same remark. Captain Mowbray inquired where Lord Castleton was spending the winter, and when told that he was at Ravenscombe, where Mrs. Herbert expected a large Christmas party, he could not help feeling a certain uneasiness, which was not diminished by Lady Emmeline informing him like. wise that there were to be private theatricals, in which Miss Herbert would appear as Lydia Languish in "The Rivals." "And who," asked' Captain Mowhrav, some- what nervously, "is to lye Captain Absolute?" "My brother, of course," answered Ladv-Emmeline, laughing; "if," she continued, "Castleton will so far condescend; but you know him well enough to suppose that such amusements are not quite in his line, and that he has little genius for the stage. I should really like to see how he will get on with his part. As for Miss Herbert, I am told that she is an admirable actress; and all who excel love acting. So my brother could not very well refuse if she asked him." Every word had been spoken ma- liciously, for Captain Mowbray's countenance betrayed an interest in Miss Herbert, which caused a jealous pang in Lady Emmeline. She as suddenly became odious in his eyes, and at their next meeting hevcontrived to avoid her and approach nearer the lovely Ada, the fascinations of whose beauty and good humor-made him forget his spleen of the previous day, Lady Emmeline had seen his annoyance, and guessed the cause. "But could Captain Mowbray," sheithought, "have been a rejected lover of Alice Herbert's? or was he too poor to aspire to the heiress? Alice had, from her very childhood, been destined to retrieve the decay-i ing fortunes of the house of Pedantmere." The result of a night of self-torture was the resolution to make v assurane double sure, and dispel at once all hopes Cap- tain Mowbray might entertain in that quarter. To avoid the obloquy of any such communication from herself, she D* 7 page: 82-83[View Page 82-83]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 82-83 82 ISOLINA. made use of her cousin Ada to let Captain Mowbray know that he would probably ere long hear of Alice as the affianced bride of Lord Castleton; and, confident in the superior attractions of her own conversation and wit to the pretty features and childish prattle of Ada Trevyl- ian, she now feared no rival in her, but put forth all her powers to make him forget Alice in Lady Emmeline. But Ada would not so readily give up a new admirer, and both young ladies were equally delighted when, as the time for his departure drew nigh, he offered a passage in his ship to the duke and duchess, Lady Emmeline and her fair cousin. The offer was accepted, and, as the weather was fine and none of the party sea-sick, the voy- age was performed most agreeably. From Malta Captain Mowbray again offered them a passage to Greece, as the Duke of Pedantmere wished to visit Athens before returning to England. But this time they were unac- companied by Miss Trevylian. Lady Emmeline felt the more secure of her own conquest in the absence of her cousin, whilst George Mowbray felt that they had lost the life of the party. A few weeks later saw him again at Malta. His attentions to Miss Trevylian and her acceptance of them became the subject of remark and comment among all the gossips in the island; and Colonel Trevylian had no hesitation in encouraging what appeared to him a desirable connection. Captain Mowbray himself, however, had no idea that he had passed the limits of an agreeable flirtation; for, in spite of his having indulged in feelings of resentment towards Alice for her weakness in having ceased to cor- respond with him, in spite of the accumulated wrongs he conceived himself to have suffered from her permit- ting the attentions of another, and in spite of the story of the theatricals, be did not believe that she could break faith with him for Lord Castleton; and he still loved On. He had even resolved to write to her, when news reached him from a friend whose word he could not doubt, which decided his fate for life. That friend was his aunt Lady Campbell, to whom he hastened from Malta as soon as he heard of her arrival in Rome. It was she who told him that Alice Herbert ISOLINA. 83 had indeed promised her hand to the SMarquis of Castle- ton; and, gently as she broke what she knew would be unpleasant information, she was not prepared for the. burst of indignant surprise with which it was received. Captain Mowbray had only a few hours to spare from his ship, and Lady Campbell employed that time in trying to calm the vehemence of his wrath. He left her still overwhelmed with grief and disappointment, and she was therefore not a little startled by a letter, ten days later, announcing his own engagement to Miss Trevylian. Lady Campbell's information had been premature; she had received it in a letter from Lady Elton, who was full of her own disappointment at her son Frederick's folly in letting such a charming girl escape him, and of regrets for her younger son, of whose attachment she was well aware. She had heard the news from a confidential friend of Mrs. Herbert's, a sure authority, and- she had begged Lady Campbell to break it to George on the first opportunity. George's own letter to his mother, telling her and his father of his acceptance by Miss Trevvlian, the beautiful and wealthy daughter of Colonel Trevylian and the cousin of the Duchess of Pedantmere, more than consoled Lady Elton, and reassured her with regard to her younger son's happiness. Meantime, month after month Alice had silently en- dured the ordeal of dinner, ball, and opera, of Christmas festivities and summer visits to country houses, whilst 'her heart pined for her absent lover, and she reproached her- self with her seeming inconstancy towards George. She dared not infringe her mother's command and write to assure him she was unchanged; but she-refused every offer of marriage. Mrs. Herbert did not attempt to force her inclinations, as she considered none of these offers equal to that marriage to which her daughter might yet aspire. But when Lord Castleton presented himself at last as a candidate for her hand, the mother insisted on Alice, at any rate, not rejecting so advantageous an offer. The young nobleman was, however, satisfied with Mrs. Herbert's own encouragement, and concluded that it was but proper in the young lady to be distant and reserved; nor did he entertain the smallest doubt of her willingness in the end A.... . . page: 84-85[View Page 84-85]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 84-85 84 ISOLIN A. to accept subch a prize as is noble self. Wherever the mother and daughter appeared, Lord Castleton was sure to be in attendance; and when he repeated his offer to Alice in person he would take no refusal. She was truly wretched; hut her tears were of little avail. He would, give her time; it was only natural that she should be' unwilling to leave her mother; a little tour on the Con- tinent might benefit her health; but, when they were abroad, Lord Castleton met her at every turn. Driven to desperation, she had resolved to tell him she never would, never. could marry him, when a little packet was brought to her containing the locket which George had promised should be the pledge of his unaltered affection. It was sent without a word from him, and the next news changed the hopes of her life and made her indifferent on whom she bestowed her hand, or who should become the owner of the broad acres for which she was to be sold. George' Mowbray had become the betrothed of another woman, although his marriage was not to take place till after her own. Mrs. Herbert was supremely happy the morning when her beautiful daughter was led up. to the altar by the heir to a dukedom, and when long paragraphs in the leading newspapers of the day were filled with descrip- tions, of the lovely bride, her dress, her jewels, her flowers, the list of aristocratic names which figured among those of 'the bridesmaids, as well as of the company present; but more than all how the amiable mother of the bride was supported on the arm of the Duke of Pedantmere. Mrs. Herbert was hardly less happy on the melancholy occasion which followed a week later, when that same Duke of Pedantmere's sudden death made Alice a duchess without further loss of time. Captain Mowbray read the account of both events one morning in Galignani, standing in the breakfast-room window -of Colonel Trevylian's house, with Ada, his promised wife, sitting by his side. She looked up in his face at the exclamation which escaped his lips, and, alarmed at his agitation, she attempted to soothe him, -bntr:was rejected with words of unmerited reproach and scorn. He had expected to hear of this marriage; and s . ,- ISOLNA. 85 yet, when he read that it had actually taken place, all his early love for Alice seemed to return, and his disappoint- ment and anguish were not the less bitter that .he had' brought this misery on himself. He seemed almost to feel a disgust for the girl who had been the unconscious means of his misery, and he rushed from the house, only to return a week later, when Colonel Trevylian forbade him to see his daughter until he had given a satisfactory explanation of his conduct. Captain Mowbray at once made a full confession,-declared that he had o ferqd to Miss Trevylian under pique at the inconstancy of another woman,-that he neither loved nor ever could lot her as his wife,-i-and begged to be allowed to relinquish thehonor of her hand. The colonel was furious; he insisted on Captain Mowbray keeping his engagement. Thewas nothing left him but to marry a girl he did not l^vL, or fight with her father. Ada might yet save fm. He wrote to her, appealed to her generosity, whils tacknowl. edging the injury he had done her. But she had ither the courage nor the generosity to give up her mar. age; she believed his love for herself would revive,-that he was only under the influence of momentary feeling; she accordingly persisted in holding him to his word, and the marriage, hurried on by Colonel Trevylian, was sol- emnized three weeks later. Bitterly did Ada repent her (selfishness, which she, like many others, mistook for love She had conquered; .she was the Honorable Mrs. Mow- bray, but her husband could not give his heart with his hand; and a month afterwards he effected an exchange to. the command of a ship bound for the West Indies, and left his bride to solace herself for his absence amidst the gayeties in which Malta abounded, and under the shelter of her father's roof. - - 8 ' page: 86-87[View Page 86-87]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 86-87 86 ISOLIN1A. CHAPTER XI. , "Stern daughter of the voice of God Oh, Duty! if that name thou love, Who art a light to guide, a rod * To cheek the erring and reprove, Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give; And in the light of Truth thy bondsman let me live." WORDSWORTH. A WHOLE year had passed since the departure of Sir Roger and Lady Campbell, and Isolina began to count the days when she hoped for their return. But, to her great disappointment, within a fortnight of their expected arrival she received a letter from her friend, acquainting her that the physicians had recommended Sir Roger a course of derman waters, and that they should return to Italy for the ensuing winter. One morning Isolina was seated at the piano, striving to drive away sad thoughts, and to give her undivided attention to a difficult passage in Czerny's Exercises, when the door suddenly flew open, and Rebecca burst into the room, exclaiming, "Goodness, miss! if here isn't my lord and another gentleman at the garden gate!" "Show them in, then," said Isolina, quietly, as she rose from the piano; " but first shut the door." "Missus isn't finishede dressing; and me in the midst of sweeping; on Saturday, too, of all days in the week, to come at this unchristian-like hour, before one's done work, or had time to clean oneself!" ' Show Lord Elton in, Rebecca," repeated Isolina, "and tfihen go and assist mamma. But here they are!" she exclaimed, as she met Lord Elton at the door of the drawing-room and received his customary fatherly kiss. "So we have put Miss Rebecca sadly out, as the phrase goes," said Lord Elton, laughing. "How is your mother, my dear child?" ISOLiNA. 8T "Quite well, sir; she will be here directly." Rebecca had slipped past them (as she hoped) unperceived. "I am afraid we have caused you all some disturbance by our early hours," proceeded Lord Elton, laughing. "I started immediately after breakfast, and have brought Fred with me. I suppose he wants an introduction, as you will hardly recognize this tall gentleman with beard and mustache; I did not, indeed, myself. These foreign customs are not to my taste, whatever they may be to that of the rising generation. Eh, Fred?" "I suppose not, sir," replied Frederick, smiling; "but a couple of years' absence has not, I flatter myself, so altered me that Isolina should not recognize me." "Two years, Fred I Why, it is surely more since you last saw the child,"--a pet name by which Lord Elton had called Isolina since she was first received among them. "No, indeed. Let me see; I was down here for the shooting in. the autumn of 18--, just before I spent my last ten days at Ravenscombe, when you and my mother were abroad; then I was at home a week the summer before my last long journey: so Isolina and I are not such strangers as you suppose. But, as I told you, it is long since I have seen her, and, on the whole, I think the change is greater in her than in me." Isolina blushed, as Frederick's look of unmistakable admiration accorppanied these words. "I heard the piano going," said Lord Elton, " and I was glad of it. But here is a letter for you, child; nay, I must have another kiss first, for my reward ;" and he held it back, as Isolina eagerly stretched out her hand. "There it is; now keep it to read at your leisure. Lady Elton had one -at the same time, by which they seem quite determined to remain abroad, and Ellinor declares Sir Roger's health is already improved. For my part, I think it all nonsense. What air can be better than pleople may find in England? but every one must follow their own way." "How is Lupo?" asked Frederick. "I hope he has not forgotten me." "I am sure he has not," said Isolina. "He will be quite glad to see you at home again. Lupo, Lupo," she .* page: 88-89[View Page 88-89]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 88-89 88 ISOLINA. called, running to'the door; and, in another moment, the dog bounded into' the room. After pausing and snuffing a minute at the clothes of Frederick Mowbray, he gave unequivocal signs of recognition. Lord Elton patted the old dog, and then seated himself in the arm-chair usually occupied by Mrs. Camelli. "How sweetly your honeysuckle smells " "Would you like a bit, sir?" asked Isolina, cutting off a long spray which hung in at the open casement. "That was too good a piece to cut off; and now you may stick it in my buttonhole, like a good little girl. Frederick and I have come to carry you and mamma off to the Hall for a few days; a change will do you both good. But here is your mother, to answer for herself," he exclaimed, rising, as Mrs. Camelli entered. Frederick Mowbray wasstruck with a greater change in the mother than in the daughter. The plump little woman had be- come thin, which gave an appearance of height to her figure, and added a certain refinement to her face, pretty in spite of years; but there was a languor in her walk and a vacancy in her eyes more than could be accounted for by natural dullness of mind, though it might escape the observation of those who were in the daily habit of associating with her. The insipidity of her faded charms was strongly in contrast with the animated expression and noble classical beauty of her daughter; and, indeed, except in the long eyelashes and dimpled chin, there was hardly any resemblance between them. Mrs. Camelli took the chair just left vacant by Lord Elton, who then seated himself beside her. "I am the bearer of a petition from Lady Elton," he began, "that you should bring Isolina to the Hall-for a few days; and I am to take no refusal. Frederick came with me to second my proposal. Come, now, Mrs. Ca- melli, what-do you say?" "I am sure her ladyship is very kind, my lord, but--" "No buts, my good Mrs. Camelli. We are all alone at the Hall, and Frederick leaves us the day after to-morrow: so we shall want some one to cheer us, and I must have Isolina to give me a song in the evenings." "Isolina will be proud to oblige you, my lord; and I ISOLINA. 89 must say she has improved very much lately. But my spirits are quite unequal to ---- "It will do you all the good?' the world, my dear madam. I am sure that Dr. Hill will quite approve of the change. But what is this splendid piece of work you are-about?"And Lord Elton pointed to a large frame, to which Mrs. Camelli's latest piece of worsted-work was fastened. "I think it is pretty," replied the widow, simpering;- "the pattern is taken from a famous picture. What is it ' called, Isolina?" "La Madonna della Seggiuola, mamma mia.1"And the Italian words glided naturally and sweetly from Isolina's lips, as her first language had been that of her father. Frederick Mowbray could not refrain from smiling at the square staring eyes and vermilion cheeks of this travesty of one of Raffaelle's loveliest productions. Iso- lina continued, gravely, "You have seen the original picture, Mr. Mowbray?" "I have." "And no doubt you think it very unlike this poor copy; but the arrangement of the colors, even in this material, is an amusement for us, who cannot travel, and it helps to pass many an hour when mamma is not well." Frederick no longer smiled, as, with a look of apology to Isolina, he gratified Mrs. Camelli by praising her skill, and discovering that the blues and reds of the drapery were in their right places. "Now, Fred," said Lord Elton, "we must be off. I shall send the brougham this afternoon. Nay, nay, we take no excuses. Bring your best voice, Isolina!" Lord Elton and his son left the cottage, equally pleased at the prospect of " the child" enlivening the family party that evening. The brougham arrived, and Isolina and her mother drove to the Hall, where they were received with a kind welcome. Lady Elton had many small affairs to get through this week, when they were sure of having no one at the Pines. There were dutiful visits to be paid to dull neighbors; there were old women in the village to be attended to, mothers to be reproved for not sending page: 90-91[View Page 90-91]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 90-91 90 ISOLINA. their children to school, and others to be commended whose children had been more regular in their attend- ance. The schoolmistress and schoolmaster had been waiting for my lady to be at leisure to consult- her upon various matterq of books, of discipline, or alterations in the schoolroom which would require the aid of Lord Elton's carpenter or Lord Elton's purse; the clergyman wished to discuss the conduct of the Sunday-school teachers; farmers' wives and daughters had to! be visited, their pride- soothed, and their disputes concil- iated. Lastly, there were various matters to be decided in the garden and among the out-door servants of ithe establishment. The life of the mistress of an English country house is no sinecure, especially if to these duties and many more not here enumerated be added those of hospitality to wealthy neighbors. Lady Elton liked to have Isolina as a companion on her visits among the poor, and the little pony-carriage conveyed them rapidly over the ground. Isolina really loved her, though her love was not unmixed with a cer- tain awe, and she never ventured to interrupt the long intervals of silence in their drives when Lady Elton was lost in thought. Unaccustomed to contradiction, the slightest opposition, however involuntary, on the part of her young companion Was met by an abrupt, decided answer, sometimes by rebuke, and often ridicule; but when Lady Elton was so inclined, she could converse most agreeably with Isoliha, whom she respected- iore than she confessed for her independence and originality of mind, united with so much modesty. She even loved her for the occasionally angry retort to any observation which implied the slightest disrespect of her mother,--a disrespect Lady Elton was not at sufficient pabls to con- ceal. She still, however, considered Isolina a child, who might be petted or made useful as the fancy prompted her. The morning after the arrival of Mrs. Camelli and her daughter at the Pines, the idea that this child might be- come a dangerous person dawned for the first time on Lady Elton's mind. Soon after breakfast she found her son engaged in looking over engravings in the drawing- ISOLINA. 91 room with Isolina, whilst Mrs. Camelli, her work in her lap, sat gazing listlessly out of the window. Frederick was conversing with so much more animation than was usual for him, whilst Isolina was looking up in his face, so innocently happy, that neither of them perceived Lady Elton till she was standing by their side. "I thought you were going out with your father, Fred- erick," she began, in a tone of grave displeasure, which was not lost upon her son. "My father will not be ready for me until twelve," replied Frederick, assuming an air of indifference, " and it is hardly eleven." "I must, at any rate, interrupt the instructive lesson you are giving Isolina, for the pony-carriage will be at the door in ten minutes." The manner in which this was said made Isolina blush, though she hardly knew why, and, exclaiming that she did not know it was so late, she ran out of the room in search of her hat, whilst Lady Elton, having succeeded in breaking up the tgte-c-.tte, likewise retreated. Fred- erick liked his own way as well as his mother did hers, and her obvious desire to prevent his intimacy with Isolina only served to awaken him to a new kind of interest in "the child." It rained all the afternoon; and, as he met her on the staircase after luncheon, he offered to teach her billiards, an offer she knew no reason to decline. The sound of the balls and merry laughter resounded through the house for a couple of hours, and Lord Elton himself joined in the game, whilst Ladyj Elton, ensconced in her boudoir, believed Isolina safe with her mother, and her son paying a visit to a distant neighbor; for rain seldom prevented Frederick taking his,ride. That evening Iso- lina was even in better voice than she had been the night before; at least, Frederick, who was a passionate lover of music, thought so; and it was vain for Lady Elton to remonstrate when Lord Elton supported his son, declaring he must have another and another song, and Mrs. Camelli assured him that her daughter was never tired of singing. A cloud settled on Lady Elton's brow, and, as eleven o'clock struck, she insisted on the benefit of early hours and on the ladies retiring. She page: 92-93[View Page 92-93]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 92-93 92 ISOLINA. had the satisfaction of seeing her son depart early the next morning to pay a long-promised visit to a friend in Scotland, and of believing that he would not return home for another month at least. Isolina at once felt herself restored to favor, and attributed Lady Elton's dark looks of the previous evening to caprice, or to some anxiety not unfrequent with her, and into the cause of which Isolina did not care to inquire. The days passed pleasantly away, and the mother and daughter returned to the cot- tage, delighted with their visit to the Hall. They had not been a week at home before Isolina received a visit from a young lady who was her pecu- liar aversion. Miss Victoria Carr was the daughter of one of the principal mercers in Woodford, and her mother was distantly related to Mrs. Camelli. Mrs. Carr herself was a simple, unpretending woman, much occu- pied-with the cares of a large family, and anxious, now that Victoria had received what was called a good educa- tion, she should by some means contribute to the support of her brothers and sisters. Victoria had been sent at ten years of age to a second-rate boarding school, where, for a moderate expense, she had acquired a superficial knowledge of French, Italian, and German, a little music, a little drawing, and embroidery, to which had been added a very considerable proficiency in the history of the prin- cipal families residing in the neighborhood, and in the tittle-tattle and scandal which formed the conversation at leisure hours of the teachers in her school. Victoria Carr had a pretty face and figure; and the novels from the nearest circulating library, read by stealth in school and openly in the holidays, had instilled romantic ideas of love and runaway marriages with gentlemen in high life, or with some interesting heir to a peerage. Such a training, combined with much idle reading, had con- tributed to weaken her judgment, whilst she was in- capable of putting her band to any ordinary useful work; yet this child of illiterate and vulgar parents believed herself competent to superintend the education of young ladies. Her cousins, Mrs. Camelli and Isolina, were, she believed, able to help her; they had only to speak a word to their great friends, and she, Victoria Carr, would be 9 ISOLINA. 93 launched in life as governess in some nobleman's family. She was about a year older than Isolina,-who in her eyes was the ideal heroine of a romance,-and had only as yet aspired to be her friend and confidante. Mrs.! Camelli rather liked her cousin Mrs. Carr, and had tolerated her daughter for her sake. The gossip brought by either from Woodford was not unwelcome, though the widow hardly liked to acknowledge her own weakness in this respect. But as Mrs. Camelli had at first encouraged an intimacy of which she was now half ashamed, Isolina had often had to endure the story of Victoria's real and imaginary woes in their frequent visits to the cottage, and she had latterly been consulted on a subject upon which our heroine felt herself totally incapable to give either advice or assistance. Mr. Carr had met with some reverses in trade, and had told his daughter be could not afford to keep her in idleness; her education, such as it was, had cost him more than he had expected, and he sup- posed that she was now qualified to go out as a governess. Miss Carr did not indeed doubt her own qualifications, and made up her mind to request Isolina to procure her a situation, through Lady Elton, in what she called " a genteel family." But Victoria's ideas of the duties of a governess differed essentially from those of Isolina. "What can you really teach?"' had been Isolina's natural inquiry, which had as often called forth an indignant reply from Miss Carr: "What could she not teach?"At any rate, she was as well qualified as other governesses for the charge of young ladies. Her last conversation with her cousin on this subject, however, had left so dis- agreeable an impression en the young lady that for a whole month Victoria had .not been near the cottage. Urged by her father, however, who declared they had a right to assistance from -their own relations, Miss Carr, one fine afternoon, put on her bonnet, and set out, resolved to make Isolina speak to Lady Elton. "My dearest Isolina, I am so rejoiced that you have at length returned!" she exclaimed, as she threw open the bedroom door and saw her cousin on her knees be- fore-a drawer which she was arranging. Isolina did not page: 94-95[View Page 94-95]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 94-95 " " ISOLINA. look as much delighted to see her, and felt not a little angry at the freedom of her intrusion. "We have not been long absent from home," she re- plied, coldly. "That may be; but I do so miss you when you are away, my darling Isolina!" Her darling Isolina avoided the attempt to embrace her, and looked infinitely disgusted: she disliked the familiarity with which she addressed her, and still more her warm expressions of affection. But neither cold looks, nor haughty words, nor frequent rejection, could produce any effect on the impenetrable nature of (Victoria Carr. Isolina was a favorite with the great; Igolina was her cousin; and she was resolved to maintain her relation- ship with one who could be useful to her. When Isolina saw Miss Carr prepare to sit down, she rose from her knees, with a request to accompany her down-stairs, whilst making vain endeavors to impress upon her that she was too busy that day for a longt con- versation. Victoria could not, or would not, comprehend; and no soonerhad they entered ,the parlor than, untying her bonnet, she drew a chair close to the fire, and, placing her feet on the fender, appeared to be settling down for an hour's gossip. "Where is Mrs. Camelli?" "She has just returned from Woodford, and is resting in her room. I am surprised that you did not meet her." "Oh, if she is up-stairs, it is all the better for me to- day, as I want to talk with you by ourselves." "I am sorry that I have so mlch to do this afternoon, that- "Can't I help you? You know I should be too glad. Are we not cousins, Isolina?" "Yes," said Isolina, dryly. "I have a great deal to tell you, to consult with you about, my dear little creature; so do just sit down quietly and listen to me. I won't keep you long." Isolina sat down in despair. "I must first tell you papa has been very unkind ISOLINA. - 95 lately. I haven't been at homer three months, and this morning, just because I was amusing myself with the 'Mysteries of Paris,' whilst mamma, who didn't want me one bit, was in the kitchen, he got so cross with me, and began again that I ought to make- use of my fine education, and not be a burden on my family; and then mamma came in. and joined him, and, between the two, I couldn't get a word in-- " "But what have I to do with all this?" broke in Isolina. "I am coming to that in a minute. You see, I have not the least objection really to go out as a governess. I should rather like it; only, I don't like to be driven to it. So, as papa advised, I have come here to ask you again for your assistance. I do so want you to speak to Lady Elton I Come, now, I know you will,like a good crea- ture.^ "Speak to Lady Elton!" exclaimed Isolina; "have I not told you again and again that I cannot?" "And, pray, why not? She would do everything you asked her; you are such a favorite with her, as every- body knows." "' In the first place, Victoria, I am not sure that Lady Elton would grant me everything I should ask for, kind as she always is. In the next, H repeat that I would not ask her any such favor." "Then -you are very ill-natured. What is the good of relations if they will not help one in a difficulty? I never asked you anything except this, and-I am sure if you won't grant me this I never will again." "If Lady Campbell were here, I should not mind ask- ing her." "But Lady Campbell is not here: so do take courage and speak a good word to Lady Elton. Her recom- mendation is worth any in the county. Now do, dearest Isolina. You can't refuse me again." "Indeed, I must. I could not take such a liberty: so pray say no more about it. If I can be of use to you in any other way, " "But you can't, and you know you can't. You are afraid of Lady Elton, Isolina, I suppose." page: 96-97[View Page 96-97]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 96-97 96 1SOLINA. Afraid? No I Why should you think so?" "Oh I only just because you dare not ask her such a little favor as this. She can easily refuse you if she chooses. I am sure it is the commonest thing in the world to recommend a governess to a friend, and would cost her no trouble in the world." "Not if she could recommend you honestly. But she does not know you, and if she did----" "Well, if she did I I suppose you are going to preach to me again, and tell me I am not fit,--whilst everybody else says it would be difficult to find any one half as well educated as I am." "There may be different views on the subject," said Isolina; " but I am quite sure Lady Elton " "What can you know about Lady Elton's views? Perhaps you are alarmed lest she should take a fancy to me too. . You are jealous, Isolina; but I promise you I won't be the least in your way, and-and-so, dear Isolina, I know you'll do it,'won't you? that's a darling!" "No, indeed; I am very sorry, but I cannot " "Then I tell you what, you are very cross and ill- natured; and I shall just wish you good-morning. I shall tell papa you are too grand to help us, and I wonder what he- will say. He'll think your head is quite turned by your-fine friends. But- I suppose you will want Lady Elton's interest for yourself one of these days. She may get tired of you, and then you will be glad enough to come on your relations, and remember blood is thicker than water. But I know what you expect; everybody knows," Miss Carr went on, as she put on her bonnet, and her hands trembling with passion so that she could hardly draw on her gloves. "And what does everybody know?" asked Isolina, drawing up her head, looking at her fixedly, with flash- ing eyes. "You needn't look at me so. Everybody knows you are setting your cap at Mr. Mowbray; but my lady will have her eye upon you, and she is the proudest woman in ---shire; so, I tell you as a friend, you've no chance." "Do not speak so loud, Victoria; and leave the house this moment." lISOLIz A. 97 "You would next turn me from your door, would you? But you can't deny it, at any rate; and let nle tell you, lsolina, you may one day have to be a governess your- "Perhaps so. Go 1" "Exceedinglyv obliged to you, Miss Camelli. It will be long before 1 shall trouble you again." And, making a low curtsv, Miss Carr swept out of the room, banging the door behind her, and lmaking such a noise as she left the house as to rouse Mrs. Camelli from her slumbers on the sofa up-stairs. As Isolina returned to her occupations, she could not help feeling a little less comfortable, though she tried to forget that she had already become a subject of Woodford gossip. CHAPTER XII. "I have been admonished; painful years HaVe tamed and taught me. I have suffered much, Kind Hoaven, but grant tranquillity." HENRY TAYOR: Philip van Artevelde. CAPrTAN MOWBRAY and the, Duchess of Pedantmere had each to expiate the fault of marriage without love. She had yielded weakly to persuasion; he, as weakly, had scrupled tothreak a rash promise made in a moment of passion, and hadl ventured to take a solemn and de. liberate vow on the altar, which he knew it was impossi- ble for him to fulfill. Bitterly did his wife repent the waward gratification of her own will at the expense of another's happiness. The punishment fell most heavily on her,:for she truly loved her husband, and therefore the pain she felt at his neglect, and at his early separation from her, was more than she could bear. After his de- parture for the West Indies her health gradually failed; a cold caught after a ball, where she had tfifd to stifle bitter thoughts by amusement, settled on her lungs, and she sank rapidly. Before George Mowbray, therefore, E: - ^ page: 98-99[View Page 98-99]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 98-99 98 ISOLINA. had been many months at his new station, he received a letter from his father,in-law, announcing the death of his wife. After the first shock was over, the thought that, though he was now free, Alice could never be his wife, recurred with renewed misery. One moment he reproached him- self 'with his conduct towards Ada, now that she could no longer reproach him; the next he cursed his own folly in not having persevered in his suit to Alice whilst there Ywas yet time. His unhappiness preyed on his temper, and for somue months after his wife's death he was morose, gloomy, and occasionally violent; and, seized with the climlate fever, his life was for some tille despaired of. It was only after a short tour in the United States, whither he was ordered to complete his restora- tion to health, that he was able to resume his duties on board ship. From that time George Mowbray was ob- served to be an altered man. He 'was no longer the open- hearted sail-or, romantic and careless as in his youth. Severe on himself, he was no less severe on others; his faith in his own virtue and in that of his former idol having been shaken, he seemed to have lost trust in every one besides. To the world in general, Captain Mowbray appeared a sober-minded, sensible man, who bad passed the unguarded enthusiasm of youth, and whose opinion, therefore, on any subject, might be cited as that of a cool, experienced judgment, sound and unbiased by feeling; a man of the world, in short, which need not be con- founded with a worldly-minded man. Alice, meantime, found herself united to one to whom she was entirely indifferent, and whose rigid character and reserved manners were rather productive of fear titan affection ; but she quietly strove to fulfill her duties as a wife, and to use aright the means so amply at her disposal to spread happiness around her. From the time that she believed George inconstant, she bad }re- solved to banish him from her heart. The task was more difficult than she imagined, but she thought she had suc- ceeded before she consented to give her hand to Lord Castleton; and she might have really succeeded, had her husband shown her more tenderness. The first year of ISOLINA. 99 " ber married life was her severest trial, for it was not only' embittered by his coldness to herself, but by the disre- spect shown her mother, whose mortification gave Alice real pain. Mrs. Herbert was seldom asked to the castle, as the duke made a rule that she should be excluded from all those parties to which his friends of highest fashion or political eminence were invited. She was not slow in discovering that her son-in-law regarded her as unworthy to be introduced among the acquaintance he most valued, and her daughtet- had to endure torrents of reproaches on her undutiful and ungrateful behavior." The dowager duchess had retired to an estate adjoin- ing that of Forestmere, where she resided with Lady Enimeline and cultivated a select circle from her former large society. Their close vicinity was no advantage to e Alice, as Lady Emmeline was thus able to maintain the influence she had always exercised over her brother, who was a couple of years younger than herself. . Her natu- ral abilities had enabled her to assert a superiority which -he unconsciously admitted, whilst believing her to be under his guidance. His marriage was all she could de- sire. She anticipated no rival in power in the gentle girl whose fortune enabled her brother to support the estab- lishment of the Dukes of Pedantmere in its accustomed splendor; and in, a secret corner of her heart Lady -Emnoieline rejoiced that Alice had not become the wife of the man by whom she considered herself to have been slighted. But, meek and gentle as Alice had shown her- self, she could not without a struggle resign the privi- lege of a wife in being first in her husband's councils as well as his heart. The ground was contended inch by , in'h, thhougl" under the cover of the utmost good breeding, and even sisterly affection. The stronger will and resolu- tion of Lady Emmeline, however, gave her the victory, which sheowed still more to flattering the vanity which ruled all her brother's actions. Family vanity (generally called by the more dignified name of pride) made him feel more respect for his sister, with the blood of the Pedantmeres coursing through her aristocratic veins, than for his wife; and personal vanity made him ready to swallow the incense offered him by Lady Emmeline, page: 100-101[View Page 100-101]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 100-101 100 ISOL,0LyA. and equally sensible to the want of it from Alice. There was one point, however, the young duchess would not yield,: Dawson had returned to her on her marriage, and though Lady Emmeline tried to persuade her to dis- charge her old nurse and accept a lady's maid of her choice, Alice refused to consent. Dawson was her great- est comfort, and her affection to her first child--a daughter, and therefore unwelcome to the duke, and almost as much so to Lady Emmeline-endeared her the more to her mistress. Alice felt bitterly the indifference and neglect of her husband, and sought, though vainly, for happiness in society, where she was surrounded -by admirers, whose homage and sympathy would -have been dangerous to a vainer and more frivolous woman. As it was, the world gave her lovers in those she hardly considered friends. The duke was as jealous of his honor as he was cold in his affections, and, notwithstanding that Alice's dignity of manner and character might have reassured him, some foolish remarks by ill-natured or idle observers led to a duel, which for a time excited the scandal and amuse- ment of the fashionable world. The affair was explained to the satisfaction of all parties; Alice was reinstated in her husband's good graces, and he condescended to show her more affection than since his marriage. Mrs. Herbert was invited to one of the best parties at Forest- mere, and even Lady Emmeline showed herself more grajcious than -was her wont to the mother of her sister- in-law. Mrs. Herbert and Lady Emmeline had grown to feel an equal antipathy towards one another, but during this visit, in spite of Lady Emmeline's desire to appear amia- ble, they came to an open quarrel. Whatever wrere her faults, Mrs. Herbert was no hypocrite, and in matters of religion especially she followed her own simple, un- learned path, without affecting greater piety than her neighbors. She liked the good things of this life, and courted the rich and great, but she was kind' to all dependent upon her, and was sincerely beloved by the villagers and her tenants at Ravenscombe. She could not, therefore, as she said, stand being preached to by ISOLINA. 101 Lady Emmeline, who was the disciple of a young clergyv- man of extremely High Church principles. The Rev. Edward Sherbrooke had, at Lady Emmeline's sugges- tion, been installed by the duke in the living of Forest- niere. The new rector had sown his wild oats at school and college, and fterwards taken orders, because it had been so determined for him from his cradle. The Rubicon once passed, he had seen the errors of his ways, but only to hasten to another extreme: by the influence of his handsome person, graceful address, and vehement de- nunciations in well-turned English from the pulpit, he made converts of half the accomplished and high-bred ladies who crowded the church in which he preached when in town. Among them was Lady Emmeline Cas- tleton, who, under his directions, began to visit and in- struct the poor on subjects in which she had perhaps as little knowledge as those for whom her benevolence was exerted. She thought it necessary to extend the salva- tion she hoped for herself to others, and insisted on all acquiescing in the doctrines of the Rev. Mr. Sherbrooke. Not satisfied with the poor, she attacked the rich; all but her brother, whom she left to his own conscience: and to time, to amend his sins and errors in faith. Mrs. Herbert's worldly sentiments met with especial condemnation from Lady Emmeline, who did not hesi- tate openly to express her surprise and displeasure. But that lady stoutly defended her own conduct and views, and Christian forbearance and charity were not virtues either ad yet learned to practice. The contentions be. tween her mother and sister-in-law, in which Alice could not fail to, perceive that Mrls. Herbert's want of tact and good breeding always placed her at a disadvantage be- fore strangers, gave the duchess great annoyance. The duke dec ared that his mother-in-law bad grown quite insufferabl;and that he heartily repented having deviated from the rule he had laid down on his marriage, only to invite her to small family parties. Alice was obliged to submit, apd she had the pain of seeing her mother depart with her feelings hurt and her temper irritated. Meantime, the summer had passed much as usual at the Pines, and October had set in, with yellow leaves 9* page: 102-103[View Page 102-103]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 102-103 ISOLINA. and bright autumnal skies, when Frederick Mowbray re. turned home, after a few weeks' shooting and deer-stalk- ing in the Highlands of Scotland. The day after his arrival he took the opportunity, when his mother wafs out driving in an opposite direction, to run down to the cottage and pay Mrs. Camelli and Isolina a visit. Lady Elton's too evident dislike of his admiration for the "child " had made him curious to see more of her, and to discover if her attractions could be so very dangerous. After a game of play with Lupo and his mistress, he walked through the garden, praising all Isolina's favor- ite flowers. The visit was so agreeable that it was re- plated two days afterwards; and though Lady Elton, now that her attention had been awakened to the fact that Isolina had grown into womanhood, was as alive to the danger as the gossips of Woodford could desire, she was too prudent to make any inquiries. She determined rather to surround him with so many attractions in young ladies whom she invited to the Pines that the cottage beauty might, at least for the time, be forgotten. Her scheme succeeded: for ten days Frederick never went near Mrs. Camelli.; but no sooner had the agreeable young ladies and their mammas taken their departure than Mr. Mow- bray's walks and rides either began or ended with a visit to the cottage. Lady Elton became seriously un- easy; she, knew her son well enough to be aware that remonstrance With him would be worse than useless, and the only hint on the subject she had given Lord Elton was treated as too ridiculous for her to ask his inter- ference. She considered that there was but one course left, which was to get Isolina out of the way; and she did not suppose this would be difficult. She accordingly seized her opportunity one afternoon, when she knew Frederick had gone with his father to a fite champttre some miles distant, and that he could not be home till late. On her way home from her drive she bade the coachman set her down at the cottage ; and she dismissed the carriage, saying that she intended to walk home. She found Isolina in her garden. "Where is your mother, my dear ?" Lady Elton asked, as she pushed open the little gate. "She has gone into Woodford to call on Mrs. Hill," replied Isolina, leaving her flowers to meet her visitor. "No matter; I want to speak with you, Isolina. How pretty these autumn roses are !" "They are from slips given me by Thomson." "You maythink yourself highly favored, for Thomson is very proud of that kind. I think I saw Frederick with one in his button-hole on Saturday, but I fancied he had gathered it in our garden." "Oh, no I it was from this very tree; he asked me to give himrone," said Isolina, speaking rather'rapidly, and with heightened color. "But as I knew there were plenty at the Pines, I told him he ought not to rob us; though, indeed, he was very welcome to it. I only said it in jest, and I was not a little flattered by his telling me that our tree is finer than any you have. Perhaps the soil here suits this rose." "My dear child, can you come with me into the parlor? I have some little thing to say to you; and I came here to talk not about your roses, but about yourself Shall we be interrupted if I come in ?' "There is no one in the house except Rebecca," said Isolina, in some trepidation at Lady Elton's manner. " Do not be alarmed, my dear. I am not going to say anything to frighten you i" said Lady Elton, as she sat down in the parlor window, with Isolina opposite to her: The color of the moment before had forsaken her cheeks, and she was paler than usual from a certain consciousness that Mr. Mowbray had paid frequent visits lately to the cottage, which were certainly not intended for her mother, that gossips were busy in Woodford, and that these visits might not have been approved of by Lady Elton. "You have received an excellent education, Isolina, and, as you well know, with the view of your adding to your mother's income, and insuring for yourself a com- petence in old age." These tfacts were put somewhat harshly before a girl of eighteen in the full spirit of youthful enjoyment; and the color returned to Isolina's cheeks. She had often heard Lady Campbell utter the same sentiments, and the prospect was one to which she herself had looked forward page: 104-105[View Page 104-105]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 104-105 104 ISOLINA. with pride and pleasure; but there was something repul- sive in the way in which they were now presented to her, especially when associated with Lady Elton's evident desire to put a stop to the intimacy which existed between her son and Isolina. "Lady Campbell," continued Lady Elton, after a pause of a few seconds, " has frequently inquired from me about your progress, and I have been able to give her most satisfactory reports, which, with your own letters, must have convinced her that you are better prepared than even she thought possible when she left England, to begin a career for yourself." "Lady Campbell desired that I should not undertake anything without first consulting her and Sir Roger," said Isolina; "and, as she does not even hint at my be- ginning anything yet, I think I had better wait a few months for her return." "You are past eighteen, Isolina, and, if my sister were here, I am sure she would quite agree with my opinion that you ought not to defer longer. Indeed, I cannot, for my part, see any reason for this delay." "That I may be better prepared," said Isolina, falter- ing, for she felt this was not quite true. "Better prepared in two or three months I So short a time can make little difference. Indeed, I sometimes think you are wasting your time here, where you have the ad- vantage neither of masters nor of good society. You are fond of children, are you not, Isolina?" "Yes; but Lady Campbell does not wish me to be a governess. Besides, I do not think I am capable of such an undertaking." "You are too modest, my dear. You are a capital musician, you draw well, and you know quite as much of history and such things as to enable you to teach young children." "But how could I leave my mother?" "Mrs. Camelli has Rebecca, and we will look after her; besides, she has many friends now in Woodford. It is true, she will miss you at first; but no doubt you will be able to run down and pay her a visit now and then. If she knows you are doing that which will ISOLINA. 105 eventually-tend so greatly to your advantage, she will soon be reconciled to the step. I do not see what other occupation is open to you, now that Lady CampbellPs first idea of your being a music-mistress in London pre- sents so many difficulties. As for your teaching music in Woodford, the remuneration would be too miserable; that is quite out of the question." "I think I ought first to write to Lady Campbell." "Do so, my dear, if you like; but, remember, to write and receive an answer will take at least eight or ten days, and meantime you may lose the offer of a very desirable situation, which I heard of for you only last night." Isolina's heart sank at these words. "It is with Lady Caroline Hervey," proceeded Lady Elton. "She is a charming person, an old friend and schoolfellow of mine. I had often spoken to her of you, and I have received this note, which you can read and think over before you tell me what to answer. But remember, Isolina, such a home will not every day be at your option. Colonel Hervey is quite a gentleman; Lady Caroline is most amiable, and well known to Lady Campbell; her oldest daughter Beatrice, a year or two older than yourself, will, I am sure, show -you every kindness, and the three younger ones, who will be your pupils, are very engaging children." "But why this hurry, Lady Elton?"' "Must I be plain with you, Isolina? In the first place, your mother's income is so small that it is assisted by an allowance from Lady fampbell, which is now incon- venient to her to pay. She would never confess it to you, but I think it now right that you should know, that, owing to u foreseen expenses, Sir Roger will probably have to refench in many ways. I desire, however, that you will not mention what I have told you to Lady Campbell, as it would greatly annoy her. Your sense of independence alone will, I am convinced, prove to you it is right you should not delay earning your liveli- hood. Secondly, although this is a more painful subject for me to touch upon, your situation here is a delicate one until my sons are married. You are all past child- hood, and I am perfectly aware that Frederick's visits E* . page: 106-107[View Page 106-107]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 106-107 106 ISOLINA. to the cottage are not for Mrs. Camelli, but for your- self." Isolina's eyes filled with tears of indignant pain as she attempted to speak, but the words would not come. After a pause of a few moments, her speech returned. "Do not suppose, Lady Elton," she began, in a husky voice "I suppose nothing wrong in you, my dear child," in- terrupted Lady Elton. "I know that you are innocent of anything but imprudence, which at your age may be expected. I know that you regard my son as you always have regarded him,-in the light of a kind friend. But, however harmless these visits, the world will speak: so, my dear, you must not be offended. I speak for your good. Think over what I have said, read Lady Caroline's letter, and let me have your decision to-morrow." She kissed Isolina's burning cheek, looked at her watch, and, declaring that it was later than she had supposed, she hastily left the cottage. Was Lady Elton happy in her success, as she hurried along the narrow footpath leading to the Pines? She had resorteX to intrigue to get rid of an object who might some day be in the way of her ambitious schemes; and she endeavored to silence conscience by assuring her- self that she had acted for Isolina's benefit, and as Lady Campbell would' have wished her to act. She was so absorbed in the casuistry with which she, like many an- other well-intentioned person, had got entangled in a vain endeavor to reconcile her actions with her better prin- ciples, that she was not aware of a gathering thunder- storm, till startled by the voice of a servant hastening from the house to her with an umbrella. And Isolina I She stood at the garden gate, watching for the return of her nother, who she feared might be caught in the storm. The occupation of taking off Mrs. Camelli's wet clothes and getting her to bed was good for her daughter, and enabled her to defer the conversa- tion she dreaded till late that evening. Mrs. Camelli was sipping a cup of-tea, when Isolina, having sent Re- becca out of the room without raising her suspicions, was able to open her heart to her mother. She did not ISOLINA. 10 10 7 tell all, for she suppressed that which related to Lady Campbell's allowance, with which she supposed her mother already acquainted, and she did not even hint at Lady Elton's allusions to her son's visits. But Mrs. Camelli at once guessed the real cause of this stidden de- sire to send Isolina into the world. "And if he had proposed for you, what right has she to interfere?" "What do you mean, mamma?" "Don't suppose, child, that I do not see through it all: she is afraid that her son should marry you. Mrs. Carr told me to-day all the town is talking of it, and no doubt it has reached her ears." "Oh, mamma 1" "Welll and what harm? Your blood is as good as his. Your father's family is as old, nay, a good deal older than these Eltons by hundreds of years; and though my father was only an attorney, my mother was a Fawcett, and of quite as good a family as Lady Elton's, whose grandfather was an apothecary. But I suppose I am to be sacrificed to her ladyship's pride. I knew how it would .be when Ellinor went away. I am sure Sir Roger would have lived just as well in England as on the continent. You sha'n't leave me, child; I can't spare you: so say no more about it." "You will think differently perhaps to-morrow, dear mamma." "Do you wish to go, Isolina? Do you wish to leave your poor old mother? Well, go, if you like; I have got Rebecca. I shall do very well without you, I dare say. You are tired of this dull life at the cottage. The young are always selfish and ungrateful." And Mrs. Camelli burst into tears. I With some difficulty Isolina succeeded in appeasing her without calling in Rebecca's assistance. Still, Mrs. Camelli was not convinced that her daughter could or should leave her. At last Lady Caroline Hervey's note was produced; it was kind and complimentary about Isolina, whom she had once met at the Pines. A kind f of faint recollection of a very beautiful and fashionable Mrs. Hervey, the mother of the colonel, who had noticed page: 108-109[View Page 108-109]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 108-109 108 ISOLINA. Mrs. Camelli when a pretty young girl at Woodford, another equally confused idea that when a child she bad played with Lady Caroline at the Pines, appeared grad- ually reconciling Mrs. Camelli to parting with her daughter for so desirable a home. But as the thought of her own loneliness recurred, there followed a fresh burst of grief, until she fairly sobbed herself to sleep. All that night Isolina lay awale. Frederick was less in her mind than the painful idea of causing the slightest inconvenience to her beloved friend and benefactress. She felt she could not consult Lady Campbell, and that it was perfectly true, as. Lady Elton had observed, that a sense of honest independence should prevent her ac- cepting aid, when, by her own exertions, she could dis- pense with it. She knew that her mother would be well cared for in her absence, and that there was no excuse. for her to remain in idleness. She then thought of Miss Carr, who had gone up to London in search of a situa- tion, whilst she herself had one at once offered to her, among friends of Lady Elton's. But with Miss Carr's name came the recollection of Woodford gossip, which made the hot blood mount into her cheeks, though she was unseen and alone. She asked herself if her heart was touched with love to Frederick Mowbray,-and she could freely and truly answer in the negative. She esteemed, admired, and even felt grateful to him; but it was the gratitudd of a young girl looking up to a gentle- man so much older and so much wiser than herself, that his notice had been always received as condescension. She almost hated Lady Elton, and then reproached her- self for injustice. No; Lady Elton had proved herself a true friend, and had acted kindly, judiciously. i But what a charge was unexpectedly to devolve upon Isolinal Could she, young as she was, justify the trust to be re- posed in her by Colonel and Lady Caroline Hervey? She longed for Lady Campbell with whom to advise. If she resolved to accept the situation, she could write to her. She wished to act as her beloved second mother would desire her to act: she would be brave. And Isolina at length fell asleep as day broke; and the first rays of the sun fell on her pale face and pillowwet\ ISOLINA. 109 with tears. That morning she wrote to Lady lton, and, with her mother's sanction, consented to b gin life as a governess. CHAPTER XIII; "They that my trust must grow to, live not here; They are, as all my other comforts, far hence." SHA KSPEARE: King Henry VIII., Act III Scene I. FROM ISOLINA TO LADY CAMPBELL: "To-norrow, my own dear friend, I leave mamma and the cottage for a new home, new duties, and new faces. I try to be brave, but indeed my heart sometimes fails me. I think I shall like teaching;. I am sure I love children, and I pray that I may fulfill my duty towards them. I should have liked to wait a little longer. Am I not very young, just eighteen, to have three little girls wholly left to my charge? I have often thought of your words, that education is not music and drawing and history, but to train the temper and the heart, and to lead my pupils gently onwards to become good women; but I am hardly yet a woman myself 1 I shall turn to their mother for advice whenever I can, though, as she writes to me, she is much occupied with her eldest daughter. She adds that she hopes I shall not mind a life of retirement. I am accustomed to that at the cottage, and I shall have quite enough to occupy me with the children. Lady Caroline has offered me a salary of sixty pounds a year, which I will endeavor to save upon, besides sending halt to mamma. .. . The family of Colonel and Lady Caroline Hervey con- sisted of four daughters and a son, who was at this time absent with his regiment in Canada. The eldest daugh- ter, Beatrice, was past nineteen, and her education had been long ago considered finished. Her three younger sisters, between the ages of eight and fifteen, were to be committed to the charge of Isolina. 10 page: 110-111[View Page 110-111]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 110-111 "O ISOLINA. One night of February, the young governess, escorted by Mrs. Roberts, the housekeeper at the Pines, to whom Lady Elton had given leave to see her safely to her destination, arrived at Euston Square Station, and was conveyed in a cab to a large fashionable house in Park Street, Grosvenor Square. The footman who admitted her, when he discovered it was only the governess, opened one of the double doors (both being thrown open for the family or visitors), and, the cabman having de- posited her little box, Isolina slipped the money for his fare into Mrs. Roberts's hand, bade her farewell, and, with a beating heart, followed the servant past three or four others in livery like himself, who were idling in the hall. After ascending a back staircase, she was committed to the care of the lady's maid, Mrs. Starch, who was stand- ing, candle in hand, expecting her. Mrs. Starch was a tall female with a remarkably slender waist; she was attired in black silk, with a velvet ribbon fastened around her long thin neck, a gold chain and watch at her side, and her hair of glossy black (probably improved by a dye) dressed in a youthful and fashionable style. She raised the silver candlestick high above her head, to en- able her to take a good survey of Isolina, before she led the way up two long flights of stairs to a room which,: as she threw open the door, she designated as "the governess's." "I will send the school-room maid to you, miss," she added; " my lady has company to-night, and desired me to inform you she would see you to-mlor- row morning.'" She placed the candle on the table, and, muttering in a half-audible voice, "Too pretty by half," she left the room. Isolina looked around her with a feeling of intense dreariness. She was tired from her journey, and very cold. Sleet was falling out-of-doors, and there was no fire within to welcome her. By the dim light of the single candle, she could perceive the room was only scantily furnished: a bed, a chest of drawers, a dressing-table, and a couple of chairs, nearly completed the list of articles. She sat down beside the bed to wait patiently, and listened to the sound of music and the hum of voices which reached her from some distant apartment. After ISOLINA. 1" a long half-hour, a sharp tap at her door announced the entrance of a raw-looking girl, with a few sticks and a scuttle of coals, sent by Mrs. Starch to light the fire, and who offered her a cup of tea, which Isolina gladly ac- cepted. A tray, accordingly, soon afterwards made its appearance, with tea, bread and butter, cake, and a boiled egog; and Isolina had at-least the consolation of perceiv- ing she was not likely to be starved. In the course of another hour her box was deposited at her door, and dragge d into the room by the same rough good-humored haudmaid. Isolina could at last get ipto bed; and, in spite of an aching head and a still more aching heart, she fell asleep, to awake refreshed, and with the buoyant hopes of youth assuring her that things would look better by-and-by. The maid came to her room at seven in the morning with a candle, as a thick yellow fog made it too dark for her to see to dress. She was told that breakfast for her and the young ladies would be prepared in the school- room at half-past eight. Isolina rose and arranged her room as well as she could by the feeble light; and, as she finished dressing; she could distinguish the bricks of a flat high wall, which, being within a few feet of her win- dow, was all her view. The school-room presented a greater aspect of comfort than the room she had left: a large fire blazed in the grate, and the snowy table-cloth with the breakfast neatly laid out, the sofa, an arm-chair, and well-filled bookcases, imparted an air of cheerfulness and refinement to the otherwise dull little room. Isolina's pupils were not long in making their appearance. The eldest, Elgiva, a fair young girl, with that loveliness which is seen only in extreme youth, had reached an age when she began to consider herself beyond the control of a governess, and that she owed her no more allegiance than to her mother's maid. She thought it very tiresome to be compelled to sit in the school-room a certain num- ber of hours in each day; and in her opinion her education might well be now intrusted to masters, or to her own guidance: at fifteen, or rather nearly sixteen, as she called herself, she might be preparing to come out, by associ- ating with her sister Beatrice. She condescendingly per- page: 112-113[View Page 112-113]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 112-113 "2 ISOLINA. mitted Isolinato shake hands with her; and, after staring as if to make up her mind whethei-she should like her or not, she took her place at breakfast, nearest the fire. The two younger girls, of twelve and eight years of age, appeared inclined to be more friendly, and vied with each bther in their pagerness to acquaint Isolina with all the family history, regardless of the looks and hints of their elder sister. "When will Lady Caroline be at leisure to see me, my dear?" asked Isolina, rather timidly, of her elder pupil. Elgiva did not like the governess calling her " my dear." "I am sure I do not know," she answered, tossing her head. "Mamma always sleeps till eleven after a party at home. Are we to begin lessons this morning?" "I should like to look over your books first, and ascer- tain what you already know, and what you have or have not read. Perhaps after I have spoken with Lady Caro- line " "Oh, mamma knows nothing about my lessons," said Elgiva. "Mademoiselle Normand, our last governess, said I was very well advanced in French and German. I have learned Latin, and am taking lessons in Italian. I have a master for music too, which I hate; but I adore drawing. I have got such a love of a master, too; he is so good-natured. Did you ever learn drawing, Miss Camelli?" "Yes." "I suppose you are a very good musician; mamma told me so; and you sing, of course, as you are Italian. Have you ever been to the opera? Oh, to be surel I suppose you could go whenever you liked when your father " "I have never been to the opera," said Isolina, inter- rupting Elgiva in that quiet abrupt tone which is in- tended to impose silence. "Will you take another cup of tea?" "If you please." Elgiva took the cup, whilst her cheeks were flushed with resentment rather than confu- sion. Isolina was feeling nervous and anxious; and both sen- sations were increased by the assumption of superiority I-SOLINA. 113 on the part of her elder pupil, and by the perpetual chat- tering of the two younger ones. When breakfast was removed, the books were brought out, and she at once per- ceived that she must either submit to teach as Elgiva chose to be taught, or undergo an altercation with one who was as superficial as she was arrogant. Elgivawas quick enough to discover that her governess was a novice in her art, as well as more timid and inexperienced in the world than herself. She was considered clever in her family, and had from her infancy been indulged by both parents, but especially by her father, who, amused by every caprice, encouraged impertinence, which he mistook for wit, in Elgiva as well as in his eldest daughter. The conversa- tions this young girl had overheard between her sister and brother had already initiated her into a knowledge of the follies and some of the vices of the fashionable world. She had acquired a taste for scandal, and had attained considerable proficiency in slang. The bloom and freshness of youth were already gone, and at fifteen Elgiva gave fair promise of becoming an admirable speci- men of the "fast" young lady. As twelve o'clock struck, Isolina was relieved from her task, as Elgiva informed her that she had to ride with her father, and she left her governess alone with her younger sisters. A little after one, Lady Caroline Hervey made her ap- pearance in the school-room. She was a tall, handsome woman, dressed richly, but in good taste. "I am sorry I could not see you sooner, Miss Camelli," she began, " but I hope that you were not neglected last night, as I desired Starch to attend to you." "Thank you; you are very kind." "I see you have been at work already. I am sure you will find Mary and Lucilla very good little girls. I always wish you to bring them to my room to morning prayers when we are in the country and can lead a regular life; here, it is impossible, and I shall request you to read with them instead. But where is Elgiva?"? "She left me at twelve, as she said she had to take a ride with Colonel Hervey." "A ride!" exclaimed Lady Caroline, in a tone of dis- 10o* page: 114-115[View Page 114-115]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 114-115 "4 ISOLINA. pleasure. ' Just like her! I am afraid you will find Elgiva a difficult pupil, Miss Camelli; but I beg you will re- member that it is my particular wish that she should not leave the school-room in the morning unless she has Colonel Hervey's or my express permission through a message to yourself. She has had too much of her own way, and I am determined to put greater restraint upon her. I cannot have her always beside me, and I therefore shall depend on you, Miss Camelli, to bring her into better order." "I am afraid I shall find this difficult, Lady Caroline. I am young myself, and Miss Elgiva does not seem in- clined to submit to my authority. Perhaps you--" "Yes, yes, I will speak to her. Elgiva has a very warm heart, though she is a wild girl. She never would bend to the dictation of an older governess; but as you are nearer her age, and more like a companion, you may obtain influence over her. You must, however, be in- dulgent, and allow for her little eccentricities. I wish these children to take regular exercise in the Park every morning from nine to ten, and again from twelve to half-past one. Luncheon is always at two, when the children and you will dine; and Colonel Hervey likes punctuality.' "I shall endeavor to comply with his wishes in this respect; but with regard to the course of study you desire they shall pursue?" "That I leave to you, as Lady Elton informs me you have received an excellent education and are quite competent for your task. Elgiva and her sisters will tell you what they have already learned from their former governess. They all speak French pretty fluently, and they have masters for Italian, music, and drawing. There is one other thing which I must not omit to mention, which is, that I beg you will see they are properly dressed before they appear in the drawing-room. I shall put their wardrobe under your charge, as Starch has enough to do to attend upon me and my eldest daughter. Mary and Lucilla always come down before dinner, and Elgiva joins the ladies afterwards. I wish her to retire-at ten. She has a bad habit of sitting up late. I therefore request that you I ISOLINA. 115 will always see her light put out at half-past ten. But I must show you their bedrooms, as they belong to your domain." So saying, Lady Caroline led the way to two rooms off the passage next the school-room, one of which belonged to Elgiva, the other to the two younger girls; both, especially that of Elgiva, furnished in a style of luxury very superior to that assigned to their governess. The sound of a gong from the farther end of the house summoned them to dinner, and Isolina hastened the children in their preparations. She descended with them to the dining-room, where, as a matter of course, the young ladies entered first, leaving their governess to follow. There was no one there to receive them. Three or four servants, bringing in. dishes, or idling about, assisted Mary and Lucilla to their chairs, whilst Isolina did not know whether to take her seat, or to remain standing before that long table spread for a dozen guests. It was ten minutes before Colonel Hervey and Lady Caroline made their appearance. Colonel Hervey shook hands formally with the new governess, and took his seat at the head of the table, carving for her and the children, whilst continuing a conversation he had begun with Lady Caroline before entering the room. Their eldest daughter Beatrice, with her sister Elgiva, both in their riding-habits, and accompanied by another young lady and two young gentlemen, followed in a quarter of an hour. Elgiva took no notice of Isolina, but Beatrice bowed stiffly. All manner of jokes, sallies, and double- entendres passed between the young people, in which Colonel Hervey occasionally took a part., Isolina was never addressed by any one, except to discover if she wished for more to eat; and when the children had swal- lowed their last mouthful of pudding, Lady Caroline gave her a signal to retire, saying that she would like her to take them into the Park for an hour, as they had missed tleir morning walk. Whilst Isolina was putting on her bonnet, it was with difficulty she repressed the tears which a choking sensa- tion in her throat was forcing into her eyes. Accustomed to be caressed and tenderly treated, young, shy, andv page: 116-117[View Page 116-117]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 116-117 "6 ISOLIrNA. needing encouragement, she found herself surrounded by people to whom timidity was unknown,-a stranger in the midst of those who were intimate with one another, and who regarded her as an inferior, entitled neither to the respect and politeness due to a lady nor to the consid- eration which youth may claim. To be a mere cipher in the society of the family with whom she was destined to live, was suffering to a nature which, like that of Isolina, sought for sympathy in all enjoyments and sorrows, and her heart sank within her at the prospect this commence- ment held forth. There was nothing for it, however, but to try and banish thought, and to endeavor, for the pres- ent, to make friends with her younger pupils. She forced herself to be cheerful during the walk, and amused them with anecdotes of Lupo and her home. She had felt more sorrow at parting with her old dog than with any one except her mother, and in talking of him' she seemed for the moment to dwell among those she loved. When again left to herself, the belief that she was fulfilling a duty restored her peace of mind. At seven that even- ing she sent the little girls nicely dressed into the draw- ing-room ; and they' returned to her in half an hour, ex- pecting to be entertained till nine, the hour of their bedtime. Day after day Isolina's life passed in a monotonous round of lessons and attention to the dress and appear- ance of her pupils. She had little leisure to herself, ex- cept after nine in the evening, when she devoted a couple of hours to music, and Elgiva read a favorite novel. She seldom saw Lady Caroline, who, when she paid a few minutes' visit to the school-room, expressed herself per- fectly satisfied. When Isolina applied to her for advice, she was always in too great a hurry to consider the matter, and gave short and abrupt answers. At last, one day Lady Caroline informed her young governess that nothing annoyed her so much as being asked questions. Isolina, however, seized the moment to represent to her that she felt herself quite unable to control Elgiva; she took her own way in everything; and with regard to the late hours in which the young lady chose to indulge, it was to little purpose that Isolina removed the candle, since she always ISOLINA. "T had another, and the means of lighting it as soon as her governess left the room. Lady Caroline, allowing for her daughter's ability and precocity, consented to relieve Isolina from her charge, at least in part. She gave Elgiva permission to take some of her lessons with Beatrice; and she excused Isolina from all further responsibility as to her general conduct. If the weekdays were a trial to Isolina, Sundays were still worse. Lady Caroline made amends for too much enjoyment or dissipation during six days, by a sort of penance on the seventh; but her penance had to be shared by all her household. The family filled two large pews in a fashionable church, where they had, twice a day, to listen to a long sermon from a high-flown preacher, re- turning home with wearied brains and without a siigle idea to enlighten their minds or influence their conduct for the succeeding week. At ten o'clock at night, Isolina, who had been buried in the school-room, was expected to appear in the drawing-room, as it was only on this occa- sion that her absence was ever noticed; and she followed the train of ladies into an adjoining room, where all the servants were assembled, and where Colonel Hervey read a sermonf in a rapid, indistinct manner, without emphasis as it was without interest, whilst Lady Caroline closed her eyes from the beginning, to enable her better to at- tend, and started when, at the conclusion, all rose to kneel for a prayer. Colonel Hervey hurried this through with as little religious feeling as the sermon; for he regarded the act merely as a proof of respectability, and as an assertion of his supremacy in his household. February, March, April, and May thus passed away. Isolina, in her letters to Lady Campbell, gave as cheerful an account as she could of her duties and occupations, and made no allusion to the depression of spirits which was already preying upon her health. Mrs. Camelli's constant habit of complaint had taught her daughter the lesson of silent endurance rather than to weary her friends with useless murmurings. One day in June Isolina received a message from Lady Caroline, inviting her tNjoin her that evening in the drawing-room, when they expected a few friends to , page: 118-119[View Page 118-119]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 118-119 "8 IS OLINA. dinner. It was Lucilla's birthday, and the little girl's peti- tion that Miss Camelli might appear had been granted. When the ladies left the dining-room, they found Isolina, accordingly, with her pupils. Lady Caroline would not commit such a breach of etiquette as to ple- sent her governess to her guests; but the six ladies who, besides Lady Caroline and Beatrice, rustled past her, in silk and tulle, and'stopped to caress Lucilla and to shake hands with her sisters, bestowed -an almost unconscious glance of admiration on the beautiful young girl, who had risen on their entrance.& Their attention was imme- diately diverted to a more interesting'object, as Lady Caroline's small white Italian greyhound, with scarlet collar and silver bells, lay curled up on the crimson- brocaded sofa. The ladies next gathered round a large nosegay of hot-house flowers, and then dispersed in little knots of talkers, until coffee and tea had been handed. Elgiva was eager to join in the conversation, whilst Mary sat staring at the dresses, vainly hoping for more notice, and Lucilla was called from one lady to the other, to be admired. Isolina, left to herself, turned over the leaves of an album on the table, until her atten- tion was gradually roused by the subject of the conver. sation near her. "I know it for a fact," were the first words that caught her ears, from an old lady whose withered throat was only partly concealed by a splendid diamond necklace. "But who could expect otherwise?" she continued: "she was forced into the marriage by her mother." ' "I never heard the exact truth of that story," saidX Lady Caroline, drawing her chair a little nearer; "but I believe the duchess had a previous attachment to Captain Mowbray,"-she glanced at Isolina and lowered her voice, -" and Mrs. Herbert would not hear of the marriage." "He seems to have got over his disappointment quickly enough, as he married immediately afterwards; and he has not been much longer in recovering from the loss of his wife," continued the first speaker. "I am glad to see him looking so well," said Lady Caroline. "I have known him from a boy, and was really grieved to hear of his first disappointment, for, he ISOLINA4. 119 was quite made a pet of in his family, and his mother and aunt are umy intinlate friends." "The duke is not particularly fond of his mother-in- law," proceeded the old lady. "I hear he is always mlaking excuses not to invite her to the castle." id Mrs. Herbert could hardly suppose she would be received at Forestmere, except for the duchesses sake," remarked another lady, who had been conversing with Beatrice Hervey, but who could not resist joining in the discussion on what had formed the topic of the fashion. able gossip and scandal of the preceding London season. ," No wonder!" exclaimed Beatrice. "I am surprised how her own daughter can tolerate her 1" "That is a very improper sentiment, Beatrice," said Lady Caroline. "She is so vulgar, mamma; you yourself said as much yesterday." "You heard of the duel?" continued the old lady of the diamond necklace. "Of course; you mean that between the duke and Count Rotherberg?" inquired the younger lady. "But it was all made up again." "Yes; but the duke was not satisfied. He has a hor- ribly jealous temper, and, I must own, he had some cause, for the duchess is a little flirt, and very pretty." "Do you really think her very pretty?" remarked Beatrice. "She is so insipid; and if she does flirt, I am sure it is in the most milk-and-water way imaginable." "She sits her horse shockingly," burst forth flgiva. "We met her in the Park yesterday, and I thought she would have been thrown. She was riding such a lovely Arab, too, which shied at everything; and the duke took no notice, but looked straight before Him, as if he had been a wooden figure,-till at last Mr. Fanshaw took the reins; and 1 am not sure if the duke was better pleased than the horse at his polite attention." "You ought not to have such sharp eyes, Elgiva," said her mother; " though it is perfectly true, I believe. Fanshaw has been very mischievous." "Not' half so bad as Lord Arthur Beauclerc," observed the younger lady. Yi page: 120-121[View Page 120-121]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 120-121 120 ISOLINA. "Oh, I don't believe a word of that story!" said the old lady. i "He has sown his wild oats long ago. I have knownr himt for years, and he was a great pet of mine until he ran off with the wife of that Russian general, who died the year after. She was never received in society again, of course, till they went abroad; then they took the best introductions, and were everywhere till she died, Since that time I have taken him back into favor. I hear he is quite a reformed character; and he is such an agreeable man." " Yes, indeed," said Lady Caroline: "I too had great scruples in admitting him to our house. I was told he was once a skeptic; but now he goes to church, and has become a truly Christian character." "Poor man I I believe his lungs are touched,-con- sumption,-which is carrying him fast to the grave. He can't live long: so I am rejoiced to hear what you say, Lady Caroline." "He would be a great loss. I know no man so agree- able at a small dinner-party," said the old lady, senti- mentally. "The devil was sick, the devil a monk would be; The devil was well, the devil a monk was he!" observed Beatrice, pertly. At this moment the door opened, and the gentlemen, one by one, dropped in, some slowly approaching the ladies and pausing half-way to continue the discussion commenced in the dining-room, others joining the little groups of talkers, who welcomed them with smiles. "What is the joke?" asked Colonel Hervey. "Some impertinence of yours, Beatrice, eh?" Before' his daughter could answer, he caught sight of Isolina, whom he had never particularly noticed when daily at luncheon; but in the brilliantly-lighted roorn, surrounded by women as artificial in their manner and gestures as exaggerated in the taste and fashion of their dress, her classical and dignified style of beauty was dis- played to singular advantage. Isolina was rather above the average height, and her figure and graceful carriage were even more striking than the beauty of her face. She i *,' ^ - ISOLIA. 121 wore a white muslin dress up to the throat, with a simple gold brooch, and a pair of gold bracelets clasped above her small and delicately-formed hands, whilst a narrow gold ribbon confined her profusion of dark hair. "Have you got anvthing to amuse you?" asked Colonel Hervey, approaching her. - "I have just found a drawing which interests me very much. Is it not beautiful?" And Isolina moved the album nearer to him, whilst raising her eyes in- quiringly. "Very!" said Colonel Hervey, without looking at the drawing, but with his eyes fixed in admiration on her lovely face. Isolina felt her color rise; as she turned again to the book before her. "Look here, Mowbray," he continued, addressing a young naval officer standing near him: "you under- stand these things better than I do." And, turning again to Isolina, he added, "Captain Mowbray is hot, I believe, quite a stranger to Miss Camnell." -. George Mowbray extended his hand to her in the frank manner which recalled the good-natured boy who had been her playmate long ago. "Captain Mowbray inquired if you were here, Miss Camelli, and I promised to introduce him." "I believe it was quite necessary," said George, "for it is many years since we met. You hardly remember me, do you?"And-he drew near her and sat down. "My memory would be very short if I had forgotten you and our games with my dog." ' "Lupo I to be sure I Is he alive, poor fellow "' "Yes, indeed; and as well as ever." "Then I shall pay him and Mrs. Camelli my respects next-week, when I go down to the Pines." "How I wish I could go too 1" "I wish you could; but I suppose you will accompany Lady Caroline to -their country home? You are govern- ess to their children, are not you? I thought my aunt had destined you to a different career," he added, in a lower 'voice. "So she had; but circumstances have determined it otherwise, and, as Lady Campbell is absent, and I fear is F a11 page: 122-123[View Page 122-123]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 122-123 122 ISOLINA. not likely to return to England for some time, I have taken your mother's advice, who has been a very good friend to me." George was silent for a few seconds. "I am glad my mother is kind to you. She ought to be so for my aunt's sake, who loves you as a child of her own, as well as for yourself. Do you like music as much as you did formerly? Do you still sing?" "I was just going to ask Miss Camelli to sing," said Colonel Hervey, who was hovering near, and caught the last words. "Charming voice," he whispered to Captain Mowbray. "You do not know," he added, turning to Isolina, " that I am acquainted with your musical powers, Miss Camelli; but I have often heard you in the evenings when I passed your domain. Come, Beatrice, here is Captain Mowbray, who wants a little music. Go and open the piano and enliven us, as we are very dull here. And, Beatrice," he continued, in a low voice, stopping her as she was obeying his desire, "get Miss Camelli to sing: I want to see as well as hear the little nightingale you keep caged up." "By-and-by, papa. I must ask Lady Elizabeth Man- ners first." After Beatrice had opened the concert by a lively little air, one lady succeeded the other at the piano, and Colonel Hervey's request would have been forgotten had not Beatrice been reminded of it by Captain Mowbray. Turning to Isolina, she then said, abruptly, "Miss Camelli, Captain Mowbray would like to hear you sing." "I am afraid," began Isolina, hesitating. "Oh, I am sure you need not be afraid. Nobody is listening now. Mamma, Miss Camelli is going to sing." 'Very well, my dear," said Lady Caroline; "and then I think we shall have had enough music for to- night.." She turned to continue her conversation with a group of lively talkers, whose voices were not modulated as Isolina' sat down to the piano. "What shall it be?" she asked, timidly. "Anything. What would you like, Captain Mow- bray?" asked Beatrice. "Miss Camelli sings everything, ISOLINA. 123 I believe." Miss Hervey did not wait for his reply: her thoughts, like her eyes, were evidently intent on other matters; and, leaving her post at the piano, but not with- out a careless observation which made Isolina blush and feel very uncomfortable, she joined some young ladies and gentlemen, whose laughing and talking became even louder than before. Captain Mowbray found himself alone- beside Isolina, but they were immediately joined by Colonel Hervey. She sat down nervously, and passed her fingers lightly over the keys; but her touch was masterly, and one or two in the room, who were real musi- cians, turned round at the sound. Her voice trembled a little in the beginning, but, as she had a thorough com- mand of the art of song as well as of the instrument, her fears soon left her in the real pleasure she experienced in the music. The rich and melodious tones she poured forth, the simple style of her performance, and the beauty of her countenance when animated, called forth an admi- ration and sympathy which none could withhold,-none but Lady Caroline and Beatrice. Silence was followed by applause, and when she rose from the piano, gentle and modest as usual, though with the quiet confidence of success which is indifferent to praise, several present entreated for another song. Isolina, however, declined, and at once obeyed Lady Caroline's desire to take Lucilla to bed. if S- page: 124-125[View Page 124-125]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 124-125 124 ISOLINA. CHAPTER XIV. "My apprehensions come in crowds; I dread the rustling of the grass; The very shadows of the clouds Have power to shake me as they pass. I question things, and do not find One that will answer to my mind; And all the world appears unkind." WORDSWORTH. ONE fine morning, Isolina had taken her two little pupils for their usual walk in Kensington Gardens. She was resting on a bench, whilst the little girls were amus- ing themselves watching the fish in the water, when a gentleman, strolling in the same direction, and followed by a couple of large spaniels, approached them. Mary at once recognized him as Captain Mowbray, though it was a few seconds before he recollected that he had seen her before, when,.alarmed by his dogs, he noticed her hasty retreat towards her governess. As soon as he perceived Isolina, he advanced to meet her, and welcomed her with the frank cordiality of an old friend. To recon- cile Mary and Lucilla to his favorites, he began exhibit- ing various tricks, and telling them wonderful stories of their sagacity; and, when the little girls had sufficiently conquered their fears to play with the dogs, Captain Mow- bray stood a few minutes in silence, watching them, and then turned to Isolina. "I dare say you are surprised to see me here still, when I told you I was going to the Pines; but I was detained in town longer than I expected, much to my vexation, and still more to that of my dogs. I think we shall be off next week. London is past endurance at this season. When do you, or rather Lady Caroline, leave town?" "I hope in a few days. I am to go first with the children; and indeed I shall be glad to see trees again, without all this dust, smoke, and heat." ISOLINA. I 125 "You are always kept such a prisoner to the school- room that I have until now vainly sought an oppor- tunity of speaking with you," said Captain Mowbray. i"You know that I have been nearly four years absent from England, and I am desirous of learning something about my old friends here. Do you ever see-Alice? I mean, the Duchess of Pedantmere?" "I have not seen her for two years at least; only once since her marriage, when she and the duke were at the Pines." "Did she look well-happy?" "She was looking very lovely. I hope she is happy. I did not ask her, of course. Why should I think her otherwise?" "Why, indeed I Has she not rank, and wealth, and all that a woman can desire?" "Oh, Captain Mowbray! Is that all that a woman can desire, and such a woman as Alice? I trust she has higher happiness as a wife and as a mother." "I trust so too, Isolina; though the dreams of youth, such as yours, are only too soon dispelled. You, who (child as you were then) were the confidante of my boyish folly, must know that my interest in her has not ceased, though our paths are so wide apart. Life gives hard lessons. She has chosen her lot, and I have accepted mine; but it is a consolation to me to think of her as not unhappy." Isolina rejoiced that he had not overheard the ill- natured gossip of a few evenings before, which she be- lieved to be mere slander, but which had given her pain to listen to. "Of that I hope you may rest assured," she said, rising from the bench on which she was seated. "You are going, Isolina," Captain Mowbray con- tinued, " and 1 have not said a word about yourself. I hope you will always look on me as a true old friend, and apply to me if I can ever be of use to you." He paused, and glanced round to see if the little girls had overheard him. Perceiving that they were still occu- pied with the dogs, he continued: "Pardon me if I ven- "* page: 126-127[View Page 126-127]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 126-127 126 ISOLINA. ture to say that I am not satisfied with the family where you have chosen your home." "Chosen It was chosen for me," said Isolina, half repenting the words as they escaped her lips. "I thought so-my mother-Lady Campbell would never have advised your residing with the- Herveys. The life of a governess is too hard for you, under the most favorable circumstances." What could I do?" "That is beyond my ability to say; but of this I am convinced, you are not where you should be,-in a fashionable London house, where you are without a pro- tector, and are not treated either as you deserve or as you are accustomed to be treated." "That is indeed true." "Have you written to my aunt how you are sit- uated?" "Yes. I told her I was governess to the children of Lady Caroline Hervey; and she replied that, if I was to be a governess, I could' not be better placed than with one so amiable and accomplished. But why should I vex her by sending details of petty troubles, to which all must be subject? I do not suppose that I am worse off than other governesses; and, as I hope that on Lady Campbell's return to England I may be enabled to try some more agreeable way of adding to our income, I ought to have more courage and more forbearance. I have, at any rate, two very lively companions," she added, smiling; "and now I must hasten them home, lest we should be too late for dinner. Thank you forl your kind interest in me: it is very good of you." She held out her hand to bid him farewell. "Stay another moment, Miss Camelli," he said, re- fusing to shake hands. "I will not detain you, however, but, if you will allow me, I will walk with you part of the way." Captain Mowbray did not wait for her con- sent, but whistled to his dogs, and, as the children scam- pered on before, he continued his conversation with Iso- lina. "I have one word of advice to give you.. You are very innocent, very ignorant of the world, and my mother ought not to have advised you to accept a situa- / ISOLINA, 127 tion in the house of Lady Caroline Hervey. I know her better than my dear aunt does, who I think is almost as innocent as yourself, Isolina. She and her laulihter are selfish women of the world." "Captain Mowbray," said Isolina, gravely, i whilst I am in their house, and hold a position of trust in the family, I cannot listen, even from you, to anything said against them." "You must not be offended, Isolina: remember, you have no relations to watch over you, and my aunt and Sir Roger Campbell, who are your best protectors, are far away. It is not only Lady Caroline and her daughter whom I fear for you, but Colonel Hervey. He is a good- humored man, with little principle, and no respect for any woman, not even for his own wife, far less for one in your dependent position. He will probably be regard- less of what you may be exposed to when under his roof; and remember that, as a governess, you will be always considered by him as an inferior, never as an equal, whatever may be the compliments or the flattery your beauty or your talents may call forth. I speak as a brother. Good-by. I wish I could give you more effi- cient aid; but forewarned is forearmed." George Mowbray called to his dogs, and before Isolina could again thank him, he was nearly out of sight. She proceeded on her way, lost in thought, and puzzled how to act. As she and her pupils reached the house, they met Colonel Hervey at the door, prepared to mount his horse. "We have had luncheon a little earlier to-day, Miss Camelli," he said, following them; "I halve an engage- ment: so you and the children must take your dinner by yourselves." "Oh, papa," exclaimed Lucilla, eagerly, "we have had such a nice game of play with Captain Mowbray's dogs I They can do such wonderful tricks, and I like him so much 1" "Captain Mowbrayl Why, where in the name of fortune did you meet with him, child? He told me he was to have been in shire a week ago." "But he has been detained, papa," said Mary, "and page: 128-129[View Page 128-129]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 128-129 128 JSOLINA. he met us in Kensington Gardens, and whilst he was talking with Miss Camelli we played with his dogs.'" "Oh, ho 1 So your morning walk has been enlivened by some agreeable conversation, Miss Camelli! I wonder what Lady Caroline will say to such assignations?" he added, lowering his voice. "It was no such thing, Colonel Hervey!" replied Iso- lina, indignantly, and blushing up to her temples as she spoke. "I have known Captain Mowbray from my child- hood, and he met me by a pure accident in Kensington Gardens this morning. He returns to the Pines im- mediately, and I shall lose no time in informing Lady Caroline of my having seen and spoken with him." She turned to desire the children to run up-stairs, when she perceived Elgiva behind her, ready equipped to ride with her father. "You do not, then, attend the afternoon lessons to- dav?"Isolina asked, whilst commanding her counte- nance, so as not to appear to have observed the look of intelligence which had passed between the father and daughter. '0No," answered Elgiva, with a stare of cool defiance in her eyes,-" no; I am going to ride with papa." Isolina attempted to pass on, but was again stopped by Colonel Hervey. "You had better say nothing about it. Lady Caroline is hasty, and I am of course aware there was no harm in your having a little con- versation with an old friend. I was only jesting. But don't let it happen again. I must not have you talking to gentlemen whilst walking with my children. You are a pretty little girl, and the world will speak; and I don't want to lose our songstress, either. But you may rely on my making it all right with Lady Caroline, if it should get to her ears." With a bold look of admira- tion, which, far from gratifying Isolina, as he supposed, gave her pain and mortification, he was preparing to follow his daughter, when he looked back once more, and called out,-- "Miss Camelli, did you ever ride?" "Never." "You would look remarkably well on horseback, I ISOLINA. 129 can tell you. When we get into the country, I must see how you can sit a horse." Isolina hurried up-stairs, and was rejoiced to find her- self alone. She felt that Colonel Hervey's cool indif- ference at the idea of her having been guilty of so great an impropriety as to meet a gentleman by appointment in the Park, his undisguised admiration of her beauty, and the freedom of his manners, were all indignities, which as she was situated she could not resent. George Mowbray's warning rang in her ears, and she resolved, at any rate, to seek out Lady Caroline and tell her of her adventure in her walk. Mary and Lucilla had, however, forestalled her; and about a quarter of an hour later Lady Caroline herself entered the school-room. Seating herself in an arm-chair, her face red with anger, she ad- dressed Isolina: "What is this, Miss Camelli, which the children tell me, that you make appointments with gentlemen when you have my daughters under your charge?" "Appointments, Lady Caroline How could you sup- pose I " "I suppose nothing, Miss Camelli; but I aim told that you had a meeting with Captain Mowbray in Ken- singrton Gardens, and that he accompanied you on your way home." "It is perfectly true that. I unexpectedly met Captain I Mowbray, as he unexpectedly met me; and as an old friend, whom I played with when a child, and who was always very kind to me, we continued talking together whilst the children played with his dogs. It did not at first occur to me this could be wrong, or contrary to your wishes; but I doubted whether I had done right in allowing him to continue the conversation, and I re- turned home with the intention of immediately acquaint- ing you with the fact, of imaking my apology, and of assuring you my offense (if such it was) should not be repeated. As I entered the house I was met by Colonel Hervey "She hesitated and blushed. "Well, Colonel Hervey met you, and I suppose you informed him of your adventure in place of me,--sure of a more indulgent auditor?" page: 130-131[View Page 130-131]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 130-131 130 ISOLINA. "The children were before me. Colonel Hervey ad. vised my not mentioning what had occurred to you; but I did not intend to follow his advice, and I was on the point of asking to see you when you came to me." "And I must tell you, whatever Colonel Hervey may have thought of your behavior, I consider it highly im- proper. Gentlemen are not competent judges in such matters, and a modest young woman would reserve her confidences for those of her own sex. In future, when you walk with my daughters, and any of your former acquaintance, whether gentleman or lady, address you, I beg that you will remember that it is my special desire that you decline all such conversation. And now that I am upon this subject, I must also inform you that when I invite you to the drawing-room as my children's gov-. erness, I do not expect you to make yourself so con- spicuous as you did the other night. You are not there to amuse the company by singing and playing, but to take charge of my children. Colonel Hervey ought not to have asked you to sing, and you ought to have had the tact and propriety to refuse. I will pass this over for the present, but I expect you will be more guarded in future." "I am quite willing to obey your wishes, Lady Caro- line," said Isolina, her lips quivering and her eyes filling with tears. "I believe I did foolishy, perhaps wrongly, this morning, but it was a temptation." "Temptation I Miss Camelli, you are not fit to be a- governess if you expect to carry on flirtations at the same time; you have other duties, and I have no notion of any governess of mine claimning intimacy with those who are above her in station." Lady Caroline rose, without deigning to look at Iso- lina, and quitted the room, whilst the flush, caused by wounded feelings rather than anger, which her words had called into the young girl's cheeks, was followed by a flood of tears. She could not go down to dinner: so, complaining of headache, she bade Mary and Lucilla go alone. An hour later, Elgiva entered the school-room. "So mamma has been giving you a rowing," said the ISOLINA. 131 young lady, "and you have been crying: I see it in your eyes. You need not take it to heart so; she is quite as cross often to Beatrice and me, but we don't mind a bit; she will forget all about it to-morrow. Isn't Captain Mowbray handsome? Do you know that Be- atrice was quite jealous of yoq the other night?" "I desire that the subject may be dropped," said Isolina, angrily. "Well, I thought you might have been pleased, for I know that Beatrice would be very angry if I said she could be jealous of you." "If you cannot be silent, either you or I must leave this room." And Isolina took up a book, whilst Elgiva relieved her mortification by a sneer of contempt, unseen by her governess, and flounced out of the room. A few days later, Isolina received intimation from Lady Caroline to prepare the children and herself to leave town She was thankful to bid farewell to London even for a time, and she hoped to be able to forget the painful associations of the last fortnight amidst the peace- ful scenes and amusements of the country. The greatest drawhack to her anticipated pleasure was that Elgiva was to accompany her. She had begun positively to dislike the girl, who had all the arrogance and presump- tion of youth without its innocence. Her influence with her younger sisters likewise weakened Isolina's author- ity, until even Mary and Lucilla ventured occasionally to set her at defiance. Holmestead Park was one of the oldest country'resi- dences in England. The former moat, now converted into a pleasant bowling-green, sheltered by sloping banks, was the favorite play-ground of the children; the garden was resplendent with color from flowers, native and ex- otic, planted out in plats of graceful Etruscan or Indian palm-leaf pattern; narrow alleys of tall yew hedge were trimly cut into fantastic shapes, and here and there a statue of nymph or Cupid presided over some retired nook, remote from the house, where the only sound which met the ear was the dropping'from a fountain in the midst. The house itself was on a sufficient elevation to command an extensive view of cultivated and wooded landscape, page: 132-133[View Page 132-133]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 132-133 132 ' ISOLINA. whilst groups of oak or beech clothed the park in every direction. The drawing-room and all the reception-rooms were on the ground-floor; modern plate-glass windows opened on the smooth-shaven green lawn; whilst narrow, old-fashioned staircases, in every impossible corner, led to bedrooms of a still more antiquated style of architecture. The oldest part of the house, distinguished by atower, once the keep, was set apart for the children and their governess. Here the walls were several feet in thick- ness, and either hung with the tattered remains of tap- estry or recently whitewashed. Tall, narrow windows admitted but an imperfect light; but a step or platform, wide enough to receive three or four chairs, converted * the window itself into a comfortable little apartment. At one of these Isolina and her pupils established themselves with books and work. By leaving Elgiva to follow her own devices, Isolina found the days pass more smoothly than she had ex- pected; but the truce between the governess and her pupil was not destined to be of long continuance. Elgiva ws fond of exercise, which she declared to be absolutely ne"ssary for her health; she declined, however, accom- panying her sisters and Isolina on their walks, saying they were too slow for her in every sense of the word. As she bad not her father with them to walk or ride, she would set forth, accompanied by her favorite dog, a large animal of the Pyrenean breed, who fiightened away half the village children; sometimes she took a servant, wholn she had adopted as her special attendant, to visit the poor for a diversion ; or she took long rides to call on country neighbors, with only the groom, for which she had her mother's sanction. As she was always eager, on her return to relate where she had been and whom :she had seen, Isolina suspected no harm. Towards the latter part of July, Colonel Hervey, Lady^r Caroline, and Beatrice,'who had been paying visits to friends in a distant county, were expected at IIolmestead. A number of guests were likewise to arrive, and Isolina heard with pleasure that among them would be Lord and Lady Elton. She longed to hear from them many par- ticulars about home and about her mother, whose letters t j , 8 ISOLINA. 133 reached her always at longer intervals. Thev were some- times written in a tone of depression: " she had seen no one,"l and she complained of such loneliness that Isolina longed to be able to go to her. Again, she wrote in such exuberant spirits and in terms expressive of such hap- pinkss, and of her entire 'satisfaction with her daughter's life and being able to add to Ler comforts, that Isolina was strengthened in the idea that it was her duty to 'bear her trials a little longer, and to remain where she was until Lady Campbel!'s return from Italy. At any rate, she thought, after she had seen and spoken with Lady Elton, she could write to her friends and leave them to decide her future conduct. The day before Colonel and Lady Caroline Hervey were to arrive at home, Isoliba took her usual walk with Mary and Lucilla. They left Elgiva in the garden, read- ing a novel and enjoying the refreshment of a delicious summer evening after an unusually hotday; she declared herself too tired to walk, as she had had a long ride that afternoon. As soon as Isolina returned and had settled the children at tea, she went in search of her eld :t pupil. After looking everywhere in vain and callingnh all directions without receiving an answer, she learnesd from a boy who was watering the flower-beds that he had seen Miss Elgiva enter the park an hour ago, and he pointed out the direction he believed she had taken. Isolina began to feel yery uneasy, and, as her suspicion thatElgiva was deceiving her about something increased, she walked on more and more rapidly. A deaf old woman, who kept the lodge, informed her that no young lady had been seen in that part, and she was returning wearied to the house, reflecting what course to pursue should Elgiva not have -returned before her, when her attention was roused by the sound of two voices, one' of which was -decidedly that of the young lady she was in search of, and which proceeded from a copse near her. A man, whose form she could hardly distinguish, quitted the wood by the farther end just as Elgiva emerged and turned into the path close to the spot where Isolina was standing. The surprise of both was unfeigned, but Elgiva Wvas the first to recover her self-possession, as she nbB 12 page: 134-135[View Page 134-135]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 134-135 134 ISOL1NA. coolly inquired what had brought Miss Camelli into the park at that late hour. "I1 would rather ask you that question, Elgiva." - "So you may. I had finished my novel, and wanted a little change, so wandered too far, farther than I intended, and was overtaken by the twilight. You were frightened about me, were not you?" "I was frightened, and came in search of you. And now tell me who was the person with whom you were talking, and who left the copse at the same time by the other end?" "What person?" "Elgiva, do not attempt to deceive me. I heard and saw him." "Deceive you I Miss Camelli, that would be a diffi- cult matter indeed. It was Robert, the gardener. I was searching for a fern I recollected having seen there- abouts, and, meeting him, asked him to assist me in the search." "At this late hour, when it is almost dark, Elgiva?" "How sharp you are I However, you are not placed here as my keeper, and I hate spies. Other people may have accidental meetings with friends besides yourself." "Then you acknowledge it was not the gardener?" asked Isolina, without appearing to notice the young lady's impertinence. "1I acknowledge no such thing; but I am not bound to give explanations to you, and I advise you for your own sake, as well as mine, to say nothing about it." Elgiva hurried on to the house, followed by Isolina, but refused to answer any more questions; she bade her a hasty good-night, ran up-stairs to her room, and locked tlhe door. Half an hour later she rang the bell for her own maid. After giving the girl a note she had written, and which she desired she herself should convey to its destination, she bade her tell the governess she had gone to bed with a bad headache, and that she would rather not be disturbed. \ ISOLINA. 135 CHAPTER XV. "Ah! if a Providence doth sway this all, Why should best minds groan under most distress? Or why should pride humility make thrall, And injuries the innocent oppress? Heavens! hinder, stop the fate, or grant a time When good may have, as well as bad, their prime." W. DRUMMOND. AT breakfast the following morning Elgiva assumed an air of unconsciojAnnocence, whilst by observations or jests, addressed sometimes to her sisters, sometimes to Isolina, she vented her spleen in allusions which ad- mitted of no reply, but feigning all the time not to have the smallest intention of vexing or annoying her gov- erness. As soon as possible, Isolina sent her younger pupils away to play in the garden, and, desiring Elgiva to remain, informed her that it would be quite necessary for her to report to her mother what had occurred; and she hoped she would be frank with her, and tell her who the person really was with whom she had been conversing on the preceding evening. "So I am to undergo a cross-examination, am I?" said Elgiva, reseating herself, and looking boldly into Isolina's face. "I told you it was Robert." "And I have reason to believe it was not Robert." "You do not mean to say that I tell a falsehood?" But, in spite of the sneering tone of the question, a tinge of conscience rose to Elgiva's cheeks. "I should grieve to think so; but the person who left you was more slightly made, younger, and even in the twilight could perceive he was better dressed." "Indeed I and if he was a gentleman, might I not have met him by pure accident?" "You are impertinent, Elgiva. If a friend of your parents, you might have invited him to the house to see you in my presence, instead of conversing with him at , , A, page: 136-137[View Page 136-137]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 136-137 136 1SOLINA. that late hour in the copsewood. Perhaps you did meet him by accident; but why then this mystery and condeal- ment?" "Mystery and, concealment I They are only in your imagination, Miss Camelli. I told you it was Robert, and you will not believe me: that is vour affair. It matters little to me what you may think."i "You forget our relative positions, Elgiva." "I assure you, I do not. My father and mother are Colonel and Lady Caroline Hervey, and yop are my ,: governess." There was a scornful curl in 'Isolina's lip, and a stern expression in her large eyes, beneath which, in spite of her cool, daring temperament, Elgiva could not help a cowering. "Such facts are totally immaterial," Isolina replied: "our birth is not chosen by ourselves, and mine I hold to be as honorable as yours. Our real value, Elgiva, depends on what we make our lives. By our relative positions I did indeed mean mine as your governess, therefore as your superior,-yours as my pupil, and there- fore under my direction." "If that is your idea of a governess, Miss Camelli, it is not mine, nor anybody's but your own; and I cer- tainly shall not listen any longer to lectures from you." So saying, Elgiva started from her chair, and hastened out of the room before Isolina could stop her. She did not make her appearance again that morning, and Isolina awaited the arrival of Lady Caroline, resolved to inform her of everything, but anxious lest by an error on her part she should do mischief where she/ wished to do good. That evening she requested an interview with Lady Caroline alone, but Colonel Hervey desired to be present. Isolina told her story simply, without comment, and Lady Caroline praised her vigilance, whilst expressing great indignation with her daughter. She had her hand on the bell to desire the maid to summon Elgira to her presence, when Colonel Hervey interposed. He had been speaking with the culprit, and was ready to explain the whole. Of course Miss Camelli had only done what she ISOI[NA4. 137 considered her duty, and he attached no bla me to her; but she was young,-too young, perhaps, and too strictly brought up, to allow for the follies of a high-spirited girl of sixteen. It was quite true that Elgiva had finished her novel in the garden, and had afterwards taken a stroll in the park, accompanied by the gardener, who had assisted her in search of a fern she wanted for her col- lection. She had there, however, met Lieutenant Con- way, now at home on leave, and who was of his way to call at Holmestead. Lieutenant Conway (Colonel Hervey proceeded to inform Miss Camelli) was a young officer, the son of a neighboring country gentleman, and intimate with the Hervey family from his boyhood. His road lay directly across that very copsewood where Isolina had overheard him conversing with Elgiva, who had met him there,and informed him her father and mother were ab- sent from home. She did not, however, choose to be suspected and cross-questioned, and had purposely mis- led Miss Camelli by only mentioning the gardener; but she had had no idea of the serious complaint which would be lodged against her. Lady Caroline was satisfied, and more than satisfied, with this explanation, for her wrath was diverted into another channel; and, turning to Isolina, she accused her of the greatest indiscretion, in first sup- posing it possible that her daughter could have infringed the commonest rules of propriety, and secondly in in- forming against her upon such slight grounds. She advised her in future not to be so hasty in her conclu- sions, and to exercise greater caution. Colonel Hervey good-naturedly-tried to make matters smooth, and Miss Camelli was allowed to retire, though not to excuse or justify her conduct." The company which had been expected began to arrive, and in the course of a week they were al assem- bled at Holmestead. Isolina was now confined to her tower, and her rambles did not extend beyond that part of the garden and park assigned to her and her pupils. Her only opportunity of seeing the rest of the family or their visitors was at lunche6n, when no one except Colonel Hervey addressed her or noticed her presence. ie took care she should not be starved as well as neg- 12* page: 138-139[View Page 138-139]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 138-139 138 ISOLINA. lected, as she sat in solitude at the long table filled with guests, from whom Mary and Lucilla received their full share-of attention. How is it possible for children to respect the authority of one who, though appointed by their parents as their superior and instructress, is treated by those very parents, as well as by their friends, an an inferior? Let English gentlemen gnd ladies refrain from censuring their American brethren for having refused to associate on terms of equality with the negro, when, ac- cording to the usages of English society, any woman, however modest, well bred, and accomplished, is con- sidered less a lady, is isolated among those with whom she lives, and even barely tolerated, when by an occupa- tion honorable in itself, and which, if properly fulfilled, should be held sacred, she supports herself and her family in independence. Isolina happened to be returning from a walk with her pupils one afternoon, when Lord and Lady Elton arrived at Holmestead. Their carriage drove up to the door before she could reach the house to welcome them, and they were ushered into the drawing-room, which she never entered without invitation. She could hardly com- prehend her own delight at the mere thought that they were under the same roof. As long as Lady Campbell was in England she would never have dreamt of choosing Lady Elton as an adviser; but in her present loneliness it was pleasant to think there were friends she had known from infancy near her, arid she felt such a desire to open her heart to some one that silence had become intoler- able. Isolina was that evening invited by Lady Caroline to join the company in the drawing-room after dinner, and she received a kind and hearty welcome from Lord anlt Lady Elton. They were, however, too much engaged with others to converse long with her, and, after a few inquiries had been made and answered, they left Isolina to her embroidery. All the other young girls in the room wereAtal,king happily together: she alone sat un- noticed, until she thought she had endured this penance long enough, and seized the first opportunity to slip away unobserved. The following morning Lady Elton came ISOLINA. 139 in search of her, at an hour when Lady Caroline had told her she would find her at liberty. "Well, my dear, I hope you are happy," began Lady Elton, in a tone of satisfaction, as she seated herself in the recess of the window. "I was sure you would be; Colonel Hervey and Lady Caroline are so very consider- ate for all about them, and you are a great favorite with both." "Thank you,'? said Isolina, hardly knowing what to reply. "What a charming school-room this is, with such a sweet view of the garden I and I see you can get out at once by the turret stairs I came up. I suppose that is your bedroom," she added, pointing to an adjoining room; "quite a little suite to yourself." "Yes, indeed."' "I do not think you could be better situated. You are most fortunate. I rejoice to be able to tell your mother so." How do you think mamma really is, Lady Elton?" "Extremely well. Of course at times she has her old fits- of low spirits; but they don't last, and I shall insist on her coming to the Hall, by-and-by, for a change." "I was thinking of going to her." "You, my dear child Lady Caroline could not pos- sibly spare you at present, when the house is full of com- pany, and she is expecting friends, with only short intervals, most of the summer.. Perhaps in autumn or winter, or before the family returns to town, you might run down to Woodford for a few days; and at that time we shall be absent from home, and you will be more wanted by your mother to cheer her." "Perhaps so. But, Lady Elton, it is not only my wish to see my mother which makes me anxious for a change. I am not happy here." "Not happyl How so, Isolina?" "I feel so lonely.". "You have, the children with you at all times. How then can you be lonely?" "Do not think me discontented, dear Lady Elton, but' day after day having no intercourse with other people, page: 140-141[View Page 140-141]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 140-141 "O ISOLINA. and living with children, is very trying to the spirits. I feel as if my mind itself were stagnating, and that I cannot even be of use to them as I might be." "I am afraid, Isolina, that we have spoiled you." "Perhaps so: I miss the kind indulgence I have been accustomed to receive " "ady Caroline surely treats you with every kind. ness?" I see very little of her." "That is to be regretted; she would be an excellent 4 adviser, but she is much occupied with her eldest ?i daughter. Elgiva is, I hear, to be removed wholly from your charge." "Indeed? -I am very glad of it: she is a willful, head- strong girl." Oh, my dear, she is like many girls of her age; she hates the school-room, and the governess with it. I am afraid the life in town was somewhat trying for you, but- here you are much better off." "I have not told you, Lady Elton, that I met Captain Mowbray in London. Did he speak to you of me?" "George? no I When?"' And the color mounted to Lady Elton's face. !"He was one evening at Lady Caroline's, when I was invited down-stairs; it was Lucilla's birthday. And a few days afterwards I accidentally met him in Kensing- ton Gardens, where I was walking with the-children; and lie stopped to talk with me." "Indeed r Of course you did not encourage the con- versation; for, though my son, and though you -have known him from a boy, I do not think, my dear, that Lady Caroline or Colonel Hervey would approve of your speaking with him when walking with their children." "I believe not." "Sailors are very inconsiderate and ignorant of the ways of the world; but Captain Mowbray would, I am sure, not have addressed you, had he reflected a moment that his doing so might have compromised you with those with whom you are living, and that he might have done you a serious injury. I speak solely in your in- terest, as Lady Campbell herself would have spoken." ISOLINA. 141 Isolina looked confused; but Lady Elton feigned not to perceive her embarrassment, and continued,- X" You see Miss Hervey occasionally?" "Very seldom." "And Colonel Hervey?" "I do not like him." "Whv? Speak frankly to me, my dear." "He is forward, and I cannot endure the freedom of his manners. When in London, he once proposed to teach - me to ride, and--" She paused and blushed. "And, I suppose, paid you some absurd compliment. You are too sensible a girl to have your head turned by flattery. Of course the teaching you to ride was a mere jest. You must know that you are good-looking, which, in your position of life, is perhaps a disadvantage rather than the reverse. Colonel Hervey," Lady Elton con- tinued, " is a great admirer of beauty. He is not young, so you need not be alarmed, though he is a man of taste and fashion. But I have no doubt he meant it all in good nature towards a young woman like yourself, and he could not suppose that you would take his proposal so seriously, or that he would annoy you by telling you you are pretty. You should certainly be careful in accept- ing compliments from gentlemen. If it had been my son, for instance Captain Mowbray I neverl" exclaimed Isolina; "but Colonel Hervey would not have spoken so familiarly to. one he respected, and I do not know of anything I have done to forfeit his good opinion." "Nor do I suppose you have, my dear. You are too sensitive, and you must not give way to fancies. Colonel Hervey is old enough to be your father." "Perhaps you are right.; but I cannot help also feel- ing mortified at a treatment from every one' so different from that which I see others receive in this house. Lady Caroline and Miss Hervey, and all their friends, hardly notice me, ,and never address me, and the uncomfortable osition I am in may have made me touchy. Indeed, I prefer my solitary life in this room to being the neg- lected, lonely being I am among strangers, who pass me page: 142-143[View Page 142-143]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 142-143 "2 - ISOUL4NA. by as if I had been guilty of a sin and were not worthy to associate with them." "You must really, Isolina, conquer this weakness. What do you expect? When a girl undertakes to be a governess, she is not to suppose that she is to be treated as a lady, or as one of the friends in the house. Lady Caroline could not, if she would, present you to her guests, and you ought to be satisfied and happy with the advantages you enjoy in being admitted into the best society." "Satisfied and happy i Oh, Lady Elton I satisfied with injustice? happy under contempt? Impossible I I would rather sweep the streets, or find my equals among the servants, than live with those who are my equals, and some, I venture to say, my inferiors in all but birth and fortune, and be trodden down by them as if I had com- mitted a crime. Am I less a lady because I receive a salary, than the clergyman is a gentleman, whose task is * no more sacred than mine? It is very hard, very cruel, very unjust." "That may be, Isolina," said Lady Elton, coldly; " but you cannot change the world. You have your livelihood to earn, and you must accept the necessary disadvantages. You are too proud, and must learn humility. But this is the result of--what I always warned Lady Campbell would be-an education and notions which must totally unfit you for your duties in life." "' No, no, no I do not say so, Lady Elton; do not make me feel myself so ungrateful. I ought to be more patient, to bear my trials better. I will, for her dear sake and my mother's; but you know she always said that she did not wish me to be a governess." "But circumstances made it a duty, and you yourself were convinced of the- necessity. Perhaps in a year or two Lady Campbell and Sir Roger may return to live in England, and may then devise something for you more to your taste; but till then, my dear child, my advice to you is to keep your present situation, to bear its petty trials with good humor, and to endeavor to please those who really like you. I must go now," she added, look- ing at her watch; '"I have an appointment to drive out j ISOLINA. -143 t with Lady Caroline this afternoon, so must prepare be- fore luncheon." ThatC evening Isolina W-as again invited to the draw- ing-room, and was resolved to overcome her sensitive- ness, for which she reproached herself as a weakness. The task was not difficult, for Lord Elton placed him- self beside her most of the time, and treated her with the same kind playfulness to which she had been accus- tomed when called by him "the child." He asked her to sing; she was going to refuse, when Lady Caroline herself seconded the request. Isolina therefore complied. The clear and powerful yet sweet tones of her voice, full and mellow, delighted Lord Elton, who complimented her on her improvement. She went to bed happy, and half persuaded that by cherishing her grievances in her heart she might have exaggerated them, and she there- fore repented the vehemence of her complaints to Lady Elton. The three days her friends spent at Holmestead ' passed pleasantly away, and after they left, Isolina re- turned with more cheerfulness to the seclusion of the school-room. Guests came and went, till at last, after many weeks, the family were left once more to them- selves. Two months had passed since Colonel Hervey and Lady Caroline returned to their country home. Elgiva had been more in the drawing-room, and less in the- school-room, than when in London; she had frequently dined late, and had joined in 'all the morning rides and evening dances, so that Isolina had hardly seen her, except for a couple of hours each day, when she was expected to read with her Italian and history. This was merely to prove to Elgiva herself and to her friends that her education must not yet be cop i ered completed,-that she was not emancipated, notut. H. er room adjoined that of Beatrice; 'and she'had gJradually become the con- fidante of all her sister's flirtations, and greedily list- ened to the fashionable scandal of the day. She had, however, the skill to conceal from Beatrice that she too had a love-affair. Lieutenant Conway, her former play. mate, had renewed his acquaintance with her during the absence of her parents. They met first again when page: 144-145[View Page 144-145]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 144-145 "4 ISOLINA. Elgiva rode over one morning to call on his mother and sisters. It was well known that when Elgiva came of age she would inherit a fortune of ten thousand pounds, which would be wholly at her own disposal, since it was left to her by her grandmother, whose name she bore. The lieutenant, a younger son, with nothing but his pay, was charmed with the lively girl, and lost no time in in- creasing the intimacy by frequent meetings in rides and walks. Elgiva was delighted to secure an admirer before she had been presented, and the height of her ambition was to be married before her elder sister. The romance of secret interviews, and the triumph she had achieved over her governess, added piquancy to her pleasure in the engagement into which she had entered without the knowledge of her parents. She saw that Isolina did not believe she had told her father the whole truth; and, partly in a spiit of revenge, partly to screen herself, she resolved with herqver that if anything should transpire prematurely, Miss -amelli should be the supposed object of his pursuit. Lieutenant Conway's leave of absence was rapidly drawing to a close, and he had not ventured yet to speak to Colonel Hervey. He had first fallen in love with the young- lady's money, but had ended by falling sincerely in love with the young lady herself. He feared a refusal from her father, but felt sure, if their nmarriage had once taken place, of his own parents' entire approbation, and of Colonel Hervey's and Lady Caroline's pardon. He therefore persuaded Elgiva to take the first opportunity to elope,-a step to which her taste for adventure and desire for early independence led her readily to consent. The spoiled child, who had never known contradiction, who had never been called upon for the sacrifice of will or inclination, had n/ver had the affections cultivated. Elgiva felt no strong tie to father, mother, or sister, to bind her to home. The world had gone too smoothly with her to anticipate pain in the step she was about to take; and if her supposed attachment to her lover was in reality a compound of flattered vanity, silly pride, and girlish frolic, anything rather than real love, she had, at least, succeeded in convincing herself, as well as the ISOLINA. 145. lieutenant, that she could never be happy without a union which was as disinterested on her part as the poverty of her lover could make it. CHAPTER XV. "Droop not-though shame, sin, and anguish are round thee; Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee; Look on yon pure heaven, smiling beyond thee." FRANCES S. OSGOOD. ONE afternoon Lady Caroline invited Mary and Lucilla to accompany her on her drive, when 'Beatrice had promised so ride with' some friends. Elgiva remained at home to walk with her father, who started with her on a visit of inspection to his farms. Isolina, relieved of all her pupils, strolled into the park and sat down under a tree to read. She had been thus occupied a couple of hours, when her attention was roused by Elgiva's voice in conversation with the same person she had discovered with her before. This time the path on which they were advancing wound between trees and high fern; and, though Isolina could see them distinctly, she was herself con- cealed, as she sat at the foot of a spreading beech-tree, whose branches nearly swept the ground. - As they came nearer, she rose and coughed, to warn them that they were overheard. The young lady suddenly paused, and Isolina could hear her whisper, "The governess has been listening." Both hastily retreated, and were immediately lost sight of at the first turn in the path by which they had' approached. Isolina was now more convinced than ever that Elgiva was carrying on a clandestine love-affair, and she felt it to be her duty again to speak to her parents; but she was uncertain what steps to take which might not lead to mis- construction and be as useless as her former disclosures. She was hastening to the house, when she saw Colonel a. 13 page: 146-147[View Page 146-147]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 146-147 "6 ISOLINA. Hervey walking deliberately towards her, by a road lead. ing from the opposite direction. He was beside her in another minute. "Whither so fast, Miss Camelli? and why do you always run away from me, like a frightened hare? Do you think I shall eat you?" "I am in a hurry to get to the house. I want to speak to Lady Caroline." 4 "Lady Caroline cannot yet have returned from her drive. May not I do as well?" "No, sir." "What has happened to alarm you?" "Nothing, sir; only I am anxious without loss of time " "To see Lady Caroline. You shall do so, as soon as she returns. But tell me, have you seen Elgiva? for she left me an hour ago, saying she was going in search of you; and now that I want her, I meet you alone, at full speed, bound for the house. -Nothing hals occurred to Elgiva?" he asked, in a tone o-real alarm. Oh, no I she has not been with me-" "I suppose, then, I shall find her in-doors. And how have you been amusing yourself this afternoon, that Lady Caroline has carried off your pupils?" I have been reading." "Let me see your book;" and he drew it out of her hand. "Historyl I suppose you never indulge in novels?" "Oh, yes, I do!" said Isolina, smiling; though she was so eager to get to her own apartment, that she might have a little quiet time for reflection, that-she could hardly attend to what he was saying. "What a pace you walk! we shall be at the house directly. But I am curious to know this secret which makes you in such a hurry to see Lady Caroline." Before Isolina could answer, a servant approached to speak with him. Relieved by this interruption, she hur- ried on, in spite of his request that she should remain; and, running up-stairs to her room, she turned the key, and sat down to consider how she could enlighten Lady Caroline without drawing down upon herself animadver- ISOLINA. 147 sions and accusations of slander, with reproof for imper- tinent interference. Colonel Hervey soon dispatched the small matter of business for Which he had been summoned, and, entering the drawing-room, he found Elgiva seated at the piano. The young lady's thoughts were not in the music-book before her. The plan for her elopement had been that after- noon decided upon by her and her lover, as well as their scheme to turn any suspicion which might arise, against herigoverness. The idea that Isolina had been set as a spy upon her actions had! helped to fix Elgiva's resolu- tion to elude her vigilance, as well as that of her parents. But she was too young to be able wholly to conceal- her feelings, and her heart beat rapidly as she heard her father's steps approaching. He was the only being to whom she was really attached; and she knew the pain her conduct, when discovered, would give him. He leaned over her chair and asked her what she was play- ing. She started at his voice, though she had heard his every movement since he entered the room. "Oh, papal" she exclaimed; " how you made me jump!" "Where have you been since you left me, Elgiva? You said you were going to Miss Camelli." "I could not find her, papa; so came 'here, where I have been sitting ever since." "Indeed!" said Colonel Hervey, in an incredulous tone. "I was, then, more fortunate than you,-for I met Miss Camelli walking towards the house in search of your mother." "Mamma has not returned?" asked Elgiva, hastily, her face flushing up from apprehension and anger, and her resolution to injure Isolina, whilst shielding herself, "Did you meet with any one in the park on your way back, Elgiva. I inquired her father, fixing his keen eyes on "Yes, papa," she answered, summoning all her courage to meet his look without betraying any feeling. "You saw " "Mr. Conway." page: 148-149[View Page 148-149]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 148-149 ,148 ISOLINA. i "So did I. Did you speak with him?"Elgiva was silent. "He has been very frequent in his visits lately," Colonel Hervey continued, "and rather too attentive to a certain young lady." "What do you mean, papa?" "You understand me perfectly. You are very young, and I mean to tell this lieutenant of yours that I shall be obliged if he would defer his visits until his next leave of absence. He returns to his regiment in a few days." "You need not suppose, papa, that Mr. Conway comes to see me; there are other young ladies in the house." "Beatrice? Nonsense L" ( Oh, papa, how dull you are l" "Miss Camelli? More absurd still I He never has an opportunity of meeting her." "And therefore has to make them. The park is open to all. Why was she hastening home to-night when you met her? Where do you think she had been?" "Is it possible? I never, then, was so deceived in a woman. The little prude I But how did you find her out, Elgiva? and why did you not tell me this before?" "I meant to do so; but I was not sure, for whenever we met him out walking, Mr. Conway was quite as civil to me as to Miss Camelli; and I did not think there was any harm. But to-day I saw them both in the park." "I have remarked him from time to time hovering about the place," continued Colonel Hervey, soliloquiz- ing; "but I never suspected his object until now,-not even to-day, when I saw him at a distance just before I met her. Miss Camelli, who looks as if she were the pink of propriety! Ahl now I understand her fondness for solitary walks, and always refusing my escort; and the letters to the Fort no one was to take but herself. Yet I have noticed Conway's attentions to you, Elgiva. You are not deceiving me, child?"And the colonel stood for a moment looking sternly at his daughter, who tried to meet his eyes; but hers fell, and a guilty blush overspread her face. "If you are deceiving me," con- tinued Colonel Hervey, " if you have told me a falsehood, ISOLINA. 149 I will lock you up in your room for a month, and give that young rascal such a horsewhipping that he will never show his face here again." "Papa, papa!" exclaimed Elgiva, terrified at his vio- lence, "what have I said to make, you so angry? Don't, don't look sol you know I cannot bear it; and how can I help Miss Camelli falling in love with Mr. Conway? And if she has chosen to screen herself by making you and mamma believe he is in love with me, it is-very hard if you credit her rather than me." "I did not mean to frighten you, Elgiva," said her father, sitting down beside her and putting his arm kindly round her waist, for he saw she was fairly crying; "but I should like to know the history of this love-affair, and how you got wind of it." Elgiva's story had been already arranged with her lover, and she was now driven to desperation to main- tain her falsehood, as well as desirous to get Isolina out of the house. "I will tell you, papa," she proceeded. "When you were away, you remember, I met Mr. Con- way one day near the copsewood, when she made such a fuss about it." "Well, and what next?" "As I was saying, papa, Miss Camelli did not like it at all; and I believe she had already had meetings with him herself, and that was how she knew who it was, and would not believe me it was Robert, but was terribly jealous lest I should be her rival. And so she has been all along." "Conway- has good taste, at any rate," remarked Colonel Hervey. Elgiva bit her lip, as she suppressed an involuntary exclamation of disgust. "He one day let out to Beatrice and me how handsome he thought her," continued Elgiva; "and another day Mary brought to me an ab- surd note she had found at the school-room door, all full of his love and adoration, and so forth. Miss Canmelli caught me reading it, and would have snatched it from me, but I declared I would not part with it, and in the struggle I threw it in the fire; and then she was in such a rage 1" 13* page: 150-151[View Page 150-151]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 150-151 150 ISOLINA. "Why was I not informed of all this before?" said Colonel Hervey. :"Oh, we were all afraid to tell; for you and mamma more than half believed her first story against me. And then she can be in a passion easily enough, though she is so reserved and proud." ' Proud as Lucifer!" exclaimed the colonel. "But I shall make her pav for this." "But ifr Mr. Conway likes to marry Miss Camelli, what harmn is there, after all, papa?" asked Elgiva, as- suming an- air of innocence. "And what will Mr. Conway's papa and mamma say to it, do you suppose, Elgiva?" "Oh, as to that, they mayn't like it much ; but we have nothing to do with them." "They may call me to account' for entrapping their son into marrying our governess. Besides, I have a regard for the family, and should be really sorry. But what in the name of fortune can make Miss Camelli so eager to call attention to the matter, by making your amother suspect you are his object in coming here, when, by keeping quiet, she might go on as snugly with it, as she has hitherto done, without our suspecting anythings? I wonder she cannot keep her own counsel better." "Because, papa, I discovered her to-day in the park, and she wants to be beforehand with me: she knows I will speak out, but she does not' think you will believe me, after what confirmed her story before, especially as she can reckon on Mr. Conway bearing her out." P "He would not dare." "But she may think he would. She hated me from he first, and I don't think ever felt quite secure of him, because she was very jealous when he was talking and X"aughing with me before other people, and when she, of course, had to sit by; and she hopes by pretending that I am his object to put you off the right scent." The sound of the carriage driving up to the door interrupted the father and daughter. Colonel Hervey hastened to meet Lady Caroline, and an hour later, when he had left her, Isolina summoned up resolution to go to her and tell her story. Lady Caroline thanked her coldly, I ISOLIRA. 151 - and dismissed her. It was full two hours later when she was desired to attend that lady -again in her boudoir. As Isolina entered, Elgiva attempted to slip past, 'but was recalled by her mother. Colonel Hervey was stand- ing with his back to the fire, and an ironical smile played on his face. Lady Caroline, seated in her chair of state, looked as if prepared to pronounce sentence. Beatrice was touching up a sketch at a table behind her mother, and seemed totally indifferent to what was going on, only secretly voting it a great bore, and heartily wishing the governess could be got rid of without all this fuss. Elgiva, meantime, had returned to her former position, a stool at her mother's feet, with her countenance effectually screened- from observation. "Miss Camelli, you will please to sit down," said Lady Caroline, pointing to a chair opposite her offi- Isolina obeyed. "What is this that I am told? After the warning which I gave you in London against encouraging intima. cies with gentlemen above yourself in station, you have actually, during the absence of Colonel Hervey and myself, and when in charge of my daughters, secretly encouraged the addresses of the son of a neighboring country gentleman, and since then you have had private interviews with him in our grounds, anfd received letters from him, though you must be- perfectly aware that his parents could never dream of accepting a young person in your dependent position as their daughter." Isolina was too much confounded at this accusation to be able to speak for a few seconds. "Lady Caroline " she began, as, pale with indignation, she looked at Elgiva. "Before you attempt to defend yourself," proceeded Lady Caroline,- "I must tell you that all denial is vain. I have for some time past observed Mr. Conway; and this morning, when calling on his mother, and happening to mention your name, she told me her son had already spoken of you in terms of admiration!"- Lady Caroline uttered these last words with a contemptuous sneer. "And she asked me if I did not consider you a very dangerous person as governess in my house. I spoke of your conduct as irreproachable, and of your education page: 152-153[View Page 152-153]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 152-153 152 ISOLINA. and friends being superior to those of the common run of governesses; but when she afterwards mentioned her son's frequent visits to Holmestead,--more frequent, from her account, than I had had any idea of,-I began to feel uneasy. Mrs. Conway, no doubt, believed his object to have been one of my daughters, which alliance she naturally could not view unfavorably. I returned home with the intention of speaking to Colonel Hervey, when you forestalled me with your story about Elgiva. It is the second time that you have been in a hurry to dis- cover what does not exist, and to put me on my guard on a subject on which I am sufficiently alive. I want no spy on my daughters' conduct. I have perfect confidence in all of them." "I am no spy," said Isolina, haughtily, whilst Elgiya shrank a little under her mother's hand, which was laid upon her shoulder. "I beg you will hear me out,n pursued Lady Caroline. "To my astonishment, and, I must add, pain and dis- pleasure, I learned from Colonel Hervey that he has reason to suspect Mr. Conway has been encouraged by you, and that he aspires to the honor of your hand." "The story is false!" said Isolina, with flashing eyes, and the color returning heightened to her cheeks. "Do you mean to have the impertinence to say that Colonel Hervey or I could have told a falsehood?" asked Lady Caroline, with a cool insolent little laugh. "You have been misinformed," said Isolina, trying to command herself, and to appear calm. Elgiva moved uneasily, and half rose, as if again desirous of leaving the room. "Let Miss Camelli speak, my dear," said Colonel Hervey, as Lady Caroline, turning to Elgiva, was pre. paring to make an appeal to her daughter. "I have never admitted the, addresses of any gentle- man," said Isolina; "I hardly know Mr. Conway by sight, though he may have seen me at luncheon with 'the children. I am not even now quite sure that it was he whom I saw this afternoon with Elgiva in the park." "Perhaps it was Robert the gardener," remarked Colonel Hervey, satirically. ISOLINA. 153 Isolina did not reply, but again turned to Elgiva. "You know full well," she said, addressing her, "what I say is true; and if, to shield yourself, you-" "Miss Camelli, I beg you will consider what you say," said Lady Caroline. "Remember whom you are address- ing. You have already accused Colonel Hervey and my- self of falsehood, and you would now accuse my daughter of deceiving her own parents, and of clandestine meet- ings with a gentleman whom she is at all times at liberty to see in our presence. I could excuse your folly, your ambition; but that you should throw out insinuations against my daughter, to whom you have evinced a dislike ever since you entered our house (from what cause, ex- cept it be jealousy, I cannot imagine), and that you should endeavor to make mischief in my family in order to conceal your own delinquencies, is what I cannot par- don. You may retire to your room for the present. I shall write to Lady Elton to prepare your mother for your return to her. I pity Mrs. Camelli from my heart." "My dear," said Colonel Hervey, "this is too hasty. If Conway has been. smitten with Miss Camelli, it is very excusable in her to have been flattered by a lover. He is a handsome young fellow, and concealment in a love-affair is no such great crime. She has some excuse, too, in being a little jealous of Elgiva, who, I must con- fess, is a bit of a flirt already: so I will ride over to the Grove to-morrow, see Conway, and learn his intentions. He will soon be returning to his regiment; and I hope, Miss Camelli, you will some day find a lover more worthy of your acceptance than this hare-brained young fellow. Take my word for it, an officer on service makes a very bad husband, and you can afford to lose one among your admirers." "Colonel Hervey," said Lady Caroline, abruptly, "I beg you will desist from this conversation. Miss Camelli's head has been already sufficiently turned; and a girl who thinks only of admirers and lovers is unfit for the duties of a governess. I feared this when Lady Elton first mentioned you, Miss Camelli. I could not, at any rate, retain your services after what has taken place.. You may go, Elgiva," she added, turning to her daughter, GE-* page: 154-155[View Page 154-155]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 154-155 154 ISOLINA. who rose instantly to obey; and, as her eyes for an instant met those of Isolina, she turned her head away, with a little toss of defiance. "You cannot suppose, Lady Caroline," said Isolina, - f . zquietly, "that I could remain longer in this house. I shall leave it as soon as possible." "The sooner the better," said Lady Caroline. "I speak for your own sake, to avoid further scandal." "Mamma," interposed Beatrice, throwing down her pencil, " you are unjust I Elgiva is quite capable--" "Do you, then, mean to accuse your sister of deceit, Beatrice?" "I mean to assert that Elgiva can and will tell what is untrue, if she has a purpose of her own to serve." "How dare you, Beatrice, allow your temper to lead you to speak in this manner t" "If you and papa- had not made her a favorite," answered the daughter, coolly, "you would not be so easily taken in by her. I believe Miss Camelli to be quite innocent of the whole affair." ,' Before Miss Camelli is called upon to be a witness of a family scene," said Colonel Hervey, "I think with you, Caroline, she had better take her departure. Sorry as I am to lose so agreeable an inmate, I believe the affair of the lieutenant can be as well settled by me, when she is under her mother's roof. I must take the carriage over to the Grove to-morrow morning, to catch Conway before he starts for the hunt. There is an early train to shire, and I can, on the way, see Miss Camelli to the station. I do not wish to hurry you out of my house," he con- tinued, addressing Isolina, " but I am sure I am furthering your own wishes: am I not?" "Meantime, Miss Camelli," continued Lady Caroline, "I beg that you will stay in your own room. I shall now bid you farewell. I hope this may be a lesson to you in future. I will write to Lady Elton. Good-by." She bowed stiffly, as Isolina rose and, hardly knowing what she did, moved towards the door. Colonel Hervey opened it for her, and held out his hand. She" would willingly have refused hers, which he gently pressed, as he repeated,- ISOLINA. 155 "To-morrow, at half-past six. Be sure to be in time." As soon as Isolina reached her room, she threw hex self into a chair and burst into a hysterical fit of sob- bing. An hour later she was able to reflect more calmly on what had passed. She was persuaded that Elgiva had made her a screen to hide some project of her own, and that Lady Caroline was deceived by her. But Colonel Hervey! could he be so mean as to revenge himself on her for having repelled the freedom of his address and kept him at a distance? She would, at any rate, be glad to escape from a house where she had been so cruelly treated and insulted. She was resolved to avoid the tete-a-tgte drive with Colonel Hervey on the following morning; and accordingly, after packing, she threw herself on her bed, not to sleep, but to watch for the first break of day. -She then dressed for her journey, and, leaving her trunk to be cared for by the servant to whom she had given it in charge the night before, she went softly down-stairs, with the intention of walking to the station, which was only two miles distant. The sky was of the soft gray of early morning, whilst a long streak of light on the horizon heralded the rising sun. The birds were just bursting out with their full song of greeting to the day, and the grass was covered with a silvery sheet of dew. No one seemed abroad but herself, till, as she turned into the high-road, she saw two horses tied to a tree in an adjoining field: both- were saddled, and one, she observed, was prepared for a lady. Isolina was walking on, lost in her own reflec- tions, when about ten minutes afterwards two eques- trians- passed her at full gallop. Could the lady be Elgiva, and the gentleman-- Impossible I They were so soon out of sight that Isolina had no- time to confirm her own suspicions. They had, at any rate, taken a dif- ferent road from hers, and one leading to a station on another railroad. She was within half a mile of her desti- nation, when a carriage drove up, and she heard Colonel Hervey calling to her: " Get in this moment, or you will be too late." And, opening the door, he pushed rather than handed her in, before she had time to remonstrate. "So, you stole a page: 156-157[View Page 156-157]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 156-157 156 ISOLINA. march on me, Miss Camelli. I did not think you would be so early a riser. Is a certain gentleman expecting you at the station, that you wanted to escape from me?" "I told you, Colonel Hervey, the story is false." "Come, come; you need not pretend to deny that the lieutenant-is your admirer. I can only commend his taste more than his prudence, and I agree with his mother that you are a very dangerous person." "Colonel Hervey, these compliments, if so intended, are offensive to me." "I see you are angry; but you cannot prevent my approving Con way's good taste. That Italian nature of yours is ready to take fire on every occasion. I could almost suppose you know how becoming it is to you to be in a passion." "I did not enter this carriage to be insulted, sir," said Isolina, at the same time endeavoring to open the door. "No; I am quite aware that it was only to be cazried to the station; and, as I do not mean you to kill yourself before you reach it, I shall not allow you to leave it until we arrive." Isolina saw it was vain for her to try to escape: she therefore submitted. "And what do you mean to do," proceeded Colonel Hervey, " if your lieutenant has no serious idea of mar- riage, or his parents forbid the bans?" "I have told you, sir---- But what is the use of my answering you, when I know you only say this to vex and mortify me? I wish I had never entered your house, never left my mother 1"The tears rolled down Isolina's cheeks, as she-looked wistfully out of the window to see if they were approaching their destination. "We shall- be there directly," said Colonel Hervey, rightfully interpreting her look. "So, now that I have punished you for always running away from me and refusing to be friends, I will tell you frankly that I am inclined to believe you rather than Elgiva. She is a mischievous little imp, and she does not like you; at any rate, she wants to get rid of you. I suspect this has been one of her pranks. If she were not such a clever ISOLINA. 15 monkey, I would be angry with her for turning you out of the house; but I shall see that justice is doneto you. If there is any reparation in my power in future, I shall be happy to make it." Isolina was too angry to reply even with common civility to his offer. As they drove up to the station, she jumped out, and hastened to procure her ticket, re- fusing Colonel Hervey's proffered assistance. She was on the point of stepping into the railway carriage, when a man came up to Colonel Hervey and presented him with a note. As he looked at the address he turned pale, and, tearing it open, he exclaimed, in a voice of greater anguish than Isolina believpd him capable of feeling, "By Jove I she has deceived us 1"Isolina could just catch a glimpse at the handwriting, and Elgiva's name, before she was hurried- into the carriage by the railway porter. The signal-whistle sounded, and in an instant the train was in motion, and the last she saw of Colonel Hervey he was standing alone on the platform, as if paralyzed by his own helplessness. Elgiva and Lieutenant Conway had secured their retreat by starting on another line, by an earlier train, and her father returned home to inform her mother that their favorite child had "thrown herself away on a penniless fool." " page: 158-159[View Page 158-159]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 158-159 158 Z -ISOLINA. CHAPTER XVII. "Ah, why should Virtue fear the frowns of Fate? Hers what no wealth can buy, no power create; A little world of clear and cloudless day, Nor wrecked by storms, nor mouldered by decay; A world with memory's ceaseless sunshine blest; The home of happiness, an honest breast." ROGERS. As Isolina entered the cottage, followed by a man- carrying her box, Rebecca met her from the kitchen, with an exclamation of dismay rather than of welcome: "La, miss I who would have thought of seeing you?" "How are you, Rebecca, and how is mamma?" asked Isolina, without noticing her reception. "Missis is much as usual, miss. Hadn't you better step into the dining-room whilst I run up-stairs and tell her of your arrival, lest it should put- her in a fluster t'" "No: mamma is always glad to see me." And, before Rebecca could fulfill her intention, Isolina hastened up the narrow staircase and opened the bedroom door. Mrs. Camelli was sitting up in bed, supported by pillows, and sipping a cup of tea. Her hair was disordered, and, as her daughter unexpectedly appeared, she raised her head with such a bewildered stare that Isolina was afraid she had hurt her by thus suddenly bursting upon her. "Oh, mamma I don't you know me?- I am Isolina. I ought not to have startled you so; but I was so sure you would be glad to see me." And- she threw her arms round her mother's neck. "Isolina?" said her mother, slowly recognizing her, but still gazing at her with that dull stare. "Where have you come from, child? Oh, I am so, so miserable I you should not leave me so much alonel"- And Mrs. Camelli began sobbing. ' There, miss," exclaimed Rebecca, who had followed ^ ISOLINA. 159. her into the room;- "I told you how it would be Missus always, of late, takes on in this way when she is hagitated. Come, ma'am, it's only Miss Isilina. She's comed home; ma'am." And Rebecca raised her voice even above its usual high pitch, to reassure her mistress. "Dear, dear;mamma, look at mel It is I, your own Isolinal I did not know you were unwell, or I would not have startled you 1" "Missus never can abide it, miss," said Rebecca, in no amiable tone of voice; " and if you would only go down- stairs and sit quiet a bit, and take a cupsof tea, which is all ready for you, I'll warrant her being better in half an -hour and able to see you." "I surely can soothe my own mother best, Rebecca." "Would you like Miss Isilina to stay, ma'am?" shouted Rebecca in Mrs. Camelli's ear. "Hadn't she better go down-stairs?" "Yes: go down-stairs, my dear. I'll--I'll come pres- ently," said Mrs. Camelli; and Isolina obeyed, however ,willingly. She paced the dingy little room -backwards and for- wards impatiently, wondering what could be the matter with her mother, whom she had never seen in g similar state, and wishing Rebecca away. A full hour elapsed before Mrs. Camelli made her appearance, and though Isolina repeatedly went to the door in the interval, she was always refused admittance. When Mrs. Camelli descended to the parlor, she was so calm, so affectionate to Isolina, and gave her so cheer- ful a welcome, that her daughter could hardly believe her own senses, in the change which had been produced in so short a time. She assured Isolina that her sudden appearance had been the only cause of her nervous tremor, and then eagerly questioned her on the reason of her unexpected return home. It was a relief for Isolina to feel herself again with her mother; happiness to find herself the object of partial affection, and; to be listened to with that interest which was ready to believe she must be right, whoever else might be wrong. For the moment, :Mrs. Camelli forgot herself, and was ' f ., r page: 160-161[View Page 160-161]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 160-161 160 ISOLIrNA. only eager to make Isolina happy and comfortable in: her home. The next morning Lady Elton received a note from Lady Caroline Hervey, exonerating Miss Camelli from all blame, alluding to certain unpleasant occurrences in ,her family, which would be only too soon made public, and, whilst accusing herself of hasty judgment, request- ing Lady Elton to inform Isolina, from herself and Colonel Hervey, that they truly- regretted what- had occurred, and if she was inclined to resume her duties in their family they would be willing to receive her. Lady Elton, in person, brought the message to the cottage, and, even after hearing all the circumstances from Isolina, was inclined to urge her acceptance of Lady Caroline's apol- ogy and her return. But Isolina was firm; nothing would induce her to re-enter Colonel Hervey's house, whatever might be her feelings towards Lady Caroline. She and her mother were invited to the Pines for a few days, and Lord and Lady Elton endeavored in every way to make her forget past unpleasantness and to render her visit more than usually agreeable. Isolina was grateful and pleased, yet was not sorry to return to the cottage. :per eyes had been gradually opened to the fact that "dear Lady Elton," whom she truly loved in spite of it all, was essentially a selfish woman, and her kindness was therefore less welcome than formerly. Isolina's naturally delicate constitution had suffered from all she had gone through, and perfect repose was necessary to restorelthe equilibrium both of body and mind. The absence of -all restraint, the quiet leisure for thought, and the occupa- tions of her garden, and her favorite birds and dog, were better restoratives than the form and grandeur which reigned at the Pines. Mrs. Camelli indeed returned to her chronic state of peevishness; but to that Isolina had been inured from childhood, and she was only uneasy when her mother exhibited an unnatural hilarity, though Rebecca kept assuring her that "that was always the way with missus, only that Miss Isilina had been so long away she had forgotten it, and she ought to be pleased to see her dear mamma in such good spirits." This gayety was al ays, however, followed by greater 'de- IS OL INA. 161 pression, and she would then reproach her daughter with her idleness in remaining at home, whilst entreating her not to leave her; attone time wishing herself dead and buried, that she might not be a burden on the only being she truly loved; the next lamenting over her child, as if she was already left a solitary being in the world.! Iso- lina devoted her first leisure hours to writing a long letter to Lady Campbell, giving her a full account of all her trials and difficulties, and she resolved not to accept qp- other situation as a governess until she had received her answer. That afternoon Isolina had some purchases to make in Woodford, and she took her letter with her to put it herself intowthe letter-box. As she was walking up the princi- pal street of the little town, she saw the Elton carriage driving past, and it stopped before Mr. Carr's shop, to- wards which Isolina herself was wending her way. The obsequious. shopman, all smiles and eager haste for "orders," was standing at the carriage door when Isolina came up, and was too much engaged with " my lady" to perceive her until Lady Elton, naming Miss Camelli, stretched out of the window to shake hands with her; upon which he started back and stood aside, patiently waiting for their colloquy to cease, and regardless of the every-day Woodford customers, who were entering the shop, where Mr. Carr was left alone 'to attend to their wants. Isolina informed Lady Elton that she had been writing to Lady Campbell, and told her the object of her letter. "Quite right, my dear," said Lady Elton, in reply; "I like energy, and I am sure it is quite necessary to con- sider well your next step. But don't let me keep you standing here: you are going into Mr. Carr's shop? By the bye, have you heard anything of your cowusin?" "Nothing; i I never correspond with her. You mean Victoria Carr?"As she spoke, Isolina for the first time perceived that Lady Elton was not alone, and that a gentleman was on her other side. He was what might have been considered handsome, though his features were harsh, and his dark complexion was not rendered lighter by a pair of coal-black mustaches, neatly cut, "* page: 162-163[View Page 162-163]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 162-163 162 ISOLTNA. and trimmed with a scrupulous regard to fashion and propriety which distinguished the whole of his dress. His eyes, which were deep-set and dark, were fixed on Isolina's face, and she felt a repulsion at first sight which surprised herself. "Who is that, beautiful girl?" he asked Heady Elton, as they drove on. His accent was slightly foreign. "She is very handsome, count, is she not?" replied Lady Elton; "and, as she will be at our house this evening, you will see how much more beautiful she is without her bonnet than in it. She is a sort of pet in our family, a prot6g6e of my sister Lady Campbell's. She and her mother live in a cottage on the property Lord Elton gave them,-quite a romantic story, but too long to relate here." "But her name, Lady Elton?" "You are, I see, as taken with our little Isolina as all who see her. Her name is Camelli. Her father was an Italian singer, and her mother the daughter of an attorney of this town. So, you see, she is half a countrywoman of yours. She has a charming voice, too, and Lord Elton is so fond of hearing her that she will be sure to sing this evening. ", "Indeedl I shall like to hear her. But, Lady Elton, you, who are such a prudent mother, do you not suppose that Frederick has eyes?" "Yes, I do; and I was not sorry when Isolina obtained the situation of a governess at my friend Lady Caroline Hervey's; but by an unfortunate circumstance she had to leave them, and she is again on my hands." "And that unfortunate circumstance was, I conclude, the elopement of Elgiva Hervey wifh young Conway?" "Just so. I did not know you knew the Herveys." ' They are old friends of mine. It is a pity that Elgiva, who has talent, should have married one who (between ourselves) is rather defective in brain." The count raised his hand to his mouth and lowered his voice, though, ex- cept the coachman and the footman on the box of the car- riage, there was nobody near to hear the statement of a fact whih everybody knew. In the evening Isolinajoined the small party assembled ISOLINA. 163 at the Pines. She was always made to feel quite at home there, and she was pleased to be able to contribute to the pleasure of Lord and Lady Elton by her music. But the second meeting with the stranger did not make the impression of his countenance less disagreeable than the first. -he felt that his eyes were constantly upon her even before he sought and obtained an introduction; and a stealthy, catlike softness in his movements and his silky manner to Lady Elton made her mistrust him. He had adopted a tone of anglicism which (though, like the attempt of an Englishman to ape foreign manners, it could never become naturaD did not sit uneasily on Count Ja- copo Priuli, Whose Italian grace gave a certain varnish to his English affectation. When Isolina sang, Count Jacopo's admiration was not in words, but in the real feeling expressed in his features, lighting up his eyes till they seemed literally "to forget their cunning." Isolina began to feel better pleased with him, for such incense is the most accept- able kind of flattery to an artist. After the music had ceased, the conversation became lively, even brilliant. Isolina took her share, Lord Elton encouraged her, and Count Jacopo drew her out; and after she left he de- clared her to be positively fascinating. Lady Elton was expecting Frederick Mowbray in a few days at the Pines, to remain for some months, and her old uneasiness returned. If Lady Campbell were to declare her de- cided aversion to Isolina's going out again as a governess, she must remain for perhaps another year in the dan- gerous vicinity of the Pines. Lady Elton's only con- solation was that, as Sir Roger and Lady Campbell were makingsan excursion in Greece, and it was uncertain when their letters might reach them, Isolina could not receive a speedy reply. In addition, she had the good fortune to hear of a family in search of a governess, who were perfectly eligible as to respectability, and with whom she believed the little beauty might be safely and com- fortably established out of harm's way. She, accordingly, determined to secure her mother's consent before giving Isolina the offer, and she thought herself fortunate, there- fore, in finding Mrs. Camelli alone at home, and in a state page: 164-165[View Page 164-165]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 164-165 164 ISOLINA. of peevish anger against her daughter, who had walked into Woodford to make some purchases and had been de- tained rather longer than usual. "I am sure," said Mrs. Camelli, after she had listened to Lady Elton's glowing description of the good fortune awaiting Isolina,--"I am sure that Isolina will be most grateful to your ladyship, or ought to be; but you know what young girls are, and Isolina is sometimes very in- considerate, and, with so little experience of life, she does not know when a good, thing is offered her. She has taken it into her head to decide upon nothing till she hears from Lady Campbell; and perhaps she is right," she added, in a doubtful tone. "She is right, my dear Mrs. Camelli, to show every respect to Lady Campbell's opinions; but she cannot show it better than by respecting the opinion of those whom Lady Campbell would consider her best advisers, and, above all, of yours, who, as her mother, ought to have most influence with her." "Oh, as to that, it is long since my opinion had any weight with Isolina." ; "I hope that it has, Mrs. Camelli; I think too well of her" ! "She is a very good girl, and I am sure, in allowing her to leave me as I do, I make a great sacrifice; but, for her sake, I am willing to make it." "She has an excellent mother, and she ought to show you every regard. I am so convinced of the advantage offeied her by a home at Mrs. Hazlewood's, besides the addition to your income, which I am sure will be a con- sideration with her, that I strongly recommend you to persuade her to accept it instead of allowing this chance to escape her whilst waiting for a letter, which may not reach her for some weeks." "I will certainly do my best." "There are many reasons which make it undesirable for Isolina to remain at home doing nothing. Mr. Hazle- wood, who, as you know, is the intimate friend of Dr. Hill, is a clergyman, and also acquainted with Lady Campbell, and he will; I am told, be quite a father to her. As Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood lead a quiet and regular ^ . *- - ' ISOLINA. 165 life, too, Isolina will be more with the family, and, I trust, avoid all chance of a recurrence of the painful trials to which she was subjected at Colonel Hervey's. The salary offered her is also higher, and the little lux- uries and comforts you absolutely require from your delicate health make this important.": No persuasion was needed to convince Mrs. Camelli on this score; and as Lady Elton, looking out of the window, perceived the slight figure of Isolina at the gate, she rose hastily, and, charging Mrs. Camelli to en- deavor to overcome her daughter's objections, she saluted the young girl affectionately as she passed her at the door, and quitted the cottage. "And so, mamma, Lady Elton has convinced you that it would be my duty to accept this situation without waiting for a letter from Lady Campbell I Are you so ready to part again with me, your only child?" said Isolina, half pettishy; throwing her bonnet on the table, and burying her face in:her hands, to think without being disturbed by surrounding objects. She saw that Lady Elton was resolved to send her from home, and yet she herself felt convinced it would be better and wiser to wait for Lady Campbell's advice. It seemed as if she were hurried on by inevitable fate, and that, in her unprotected position, she must yield, whatever might be her conviction. Home seemed so safe, so happy, it was hard to be driven forth again. "I am not ready to part with you, my child," said Mrs. Camelli, in reply to Isolina's observation; "I only think it might be better for you, and on all accounts---" "On all accounts? Not on your account, I am sure. You will be left quite alone again." " "I have Rebecca." "Mamma, you cannot surely compare Rebecca to me?" "No, my dear, she is quite different; but she is a l great comfort to me when you are away, and you know that I cannot do without her. And yet her wages make me sometimes anxious. A girl would cost less; and she has sometimes said to me she does not know how she can go on with me unless I raise them, for Mrs. Carr ^\ S ! page: 166-167[View Page 166-167]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 166-167 166 ISOLINA. gives her Sarah a pound a year more, and everywhere wages are higher." "Abominable I when you are so kind to her I She would not get higher from anyione else; and besides---"Iso- lina was thinking. of Lady Campbell's addition, but recol. lected that she was not to mention it, even if her mother was not already aware of this additional proof of her friend's generosity. "Oh, I am sure she never would leave me. It's only when she is put out she says such things. She is very much attached to us. But, Isolina, if you do nothing to add to our income, there are so many things I shall want as I grow older, and both of us, indeed; and surely, my dear, it is your duty, as we are not rich, and you have had such a good, education, to do something for yourself." r" "/ut I may have other situations offered me besides that of this Mrs. Hazlewood; or she can wait a week or ten days, till I have an answer from Lady Campbell." "So I said to Lady Elton; but she observed (and, I thought, very sensibly) we could not be sure of it, and she would not like to expose you again to the painful treat- ment you received at the colonel's. Besides, I do not see what Lady Campbell could advise differently for you at this distance, and .she won't be home for some time yet. Indeed, I don't see what you can do better, if you don't marry; and there is no one in Woodford I should like for your husband. There is young Beckford, but, * though his father succeeded mine in the business, he has not the manners of my poor dear papa, which made him such a favorite with the late Lord Elton. Then there is Robert Wison, but he is not half clever enough; and ? James Smith has gone up to London to the Royal Academy; they say he has great genius, but he is away. Indeed, I once thought Mr. Mowbray fancied you. He used to come here so often, and now he is return- ing home; but I don't know what Lady Elton would say " Whilst her mother was thus passing in review all the young men of her acquaintance, in the belief that mar- riage would be a safer and more honorable speculation ,.e ISOLINA. 16 7 for her daughter than earning her bread by her own talents, Isolina sat burning with impatience; but this last suggestion placed the climax to her wounded pride, and she interrupted Mrs. Camelli by exclaiming, reso- lutely,- t"Mamma, I will accept the situation at Mrs. Hazle- wood's. I am sure it will be best for me. I am suro Lady Campbell will approve. I will write a note to Lady Elton, and tell 'jer so." "Good gracious, Isolina, how very impetuous you are I Just like your poor papa. Whv, it is not a minute ago that you were all against it. I am sure I should much rather have you near: me. Indeed, I don't see why you should ever leave me." "It will be more for the happiness of both of us in the end, dear mamma. You know v6u have Rebecca, and I shall come home, from time to time, to see you, and when I have put by more money, enough to be very rich, then we will always live together." "You can't think how lonely I often feel, Isolina." "But if Mrs. Hazlewood is as kind as Lady Elton describes her, she will surely let me come home more frequently than I have hitherto been able to do." Mrs. Camelli was with some difficulty persuaded to acquiesce in that which -she herself had proposed and urged on Isolina. The note was written, and sent to Lady Elton, and the next ten days were devoted to corre- spondence with Mrs. Hazlewood and preparations for the new home. The morning before she left the cottage, a letter arrived for Isolina from Lady Campbell, dated from Athens. Isolina's letter had not reached her: it was waiting for her in Rome. Their tour in Greece had been extended farther than they had at first in- tended, and she wrote chiefly to advise her adopted child "to leave Lady Caroline Hervey, and return to her mother, as soon as possible. When they should reach Rome, where they proposed to pass the winter,. she would write to Isolina more fully respecting her future plans,-plans which had met with Sir- Roger's entire approbations"What they might be was not even hinted at, and it was too late now for Isolina to withdraw- from e, * s page: 168-169[View Page 168-169]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 168-169 168 /SOLI. A. her engagement with Mrs. Hazlewood. She accordingly bade adieu to her mother with a full heart, and set out again alone to seek a home among strangers. CHAPTER XVIII. "If, when in cheerless wanderings, dull and'cold, A sense of human kindliness hath found us, We seem to have around us An atmosphere all gold." A. H. CLOUGH. TffE young governess's new destination was a small country town in one of the eastern counties of England. Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood were i'ntimate friends of Lord Elton's family physician, Dr. Hill, who had recommended their house as most desirable for Isolina, since they were kind and excellent people; whilst Isolina's education, the principles instilled into her by Lady Campbell, as well as her being a thorough mistress of the elements of drawing, an accomplished musician, and quite a lady, formed her best recommendation. Mr. Hazlewood was the rector of the parish of St. Mark's, in the town of Friarham, and had the reputation of a stern but just man, more respected than beloved by his parishioners. Isolina was ushered into the parlor, where the father and mother, with their eldest daughters, of ten and eleven years of age, were seated at the tea- table. Mr. Hazlewood rose as she entered, and advanced to shake hands with her. He had an unmistakable look of orthodoxy of the Low-Church school about him. The white neckcloth was tied with the most scrupulous neat- ness, the shining black coat looked as fresh as if it had just come from the tailor, and his hair- (avoiding all High- Church central line of partition) was brushed smoothly on one side, rather transparent towards the, crown. When he spoke, his sentences- were delivered slowly, and with a pomposity and decision of manner probably ISOLINA. 169 acquired from the habit of considering it a generally admitted fact that his opinion must be right and all opinions differing from his must be wrong. And yet that this idea belonged rather to the mouth-piece of a sacred calling than to the man, might be inferred from his shy, awkward gait, and the appealing glance occasionally sent to his partner, event in the midst of his most positive or sweeping assertions. In person, he was what would generally be considered handsome,-an expansive fore- head, and high Roman nose; but with the upper lip long, and the well-shaven chin somewhat flat and shapeless,- a peculiarity of the Saxon race more especially to be observed in its purest types in the northern counties of England. Long, thin, white hands, and large feet, which supported his tall figure, completed the external appearance of the Reverend Charles HaZlewood, whom even the most fashionable critics of the neighboring county aristocracy pronounced to be "quite a gentle- man." Mrs. Hazlewood was the daughter of a: countrt gen- tleman, whose relatiops would have thought her marriage with the son of a banker a misalliance, had not her hus- band's profession made some amends for reficiencies of birth and fortune. She still affected the airs, of what was considered high tone in Friarham, and did not allow her town acquaintance to forget that she belonged to a county family. With real good breeding and kindness, she led Isolina to converse, asked after her mother, Lady Elton, and her journey, and soon made her feel- at ease in the family circle round the table. The little girls, who sat silently staring at her, were dismissed to bed, and Mr. Hazlewood, after finishing his cup of tea, rose, and stand- ing with his back to the fire, his shoulders supported by the chimney-piece, and with his coat-tail tucked under his arms, addressed Isolina as follows: "Miss Camelli, Mrs. Hazlewood will instruct you what are our wishes respecting the education of our three daughters, whom we confide to your training. You-ap- pear very young for the charge you have undertaken, but I trust therefore to find you the more amenable to our advice and obedient to our desires. I hope that you I - 15 page: 170-171[View Page 170-171]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 170-171 170 I SOLINA. may give us no cause to repent the step we have taken in engaging your services for this task. We are, as you may perceive, a very simple family,' -Mrs. Hazle. wood began to move a little uneasily in her chair,- "and, if I may be permitted to say so, the influences with which you will be here surrounded, if more unso- phisticated and less " " he hesitated, for a little hem on his right reminded him that Mrs. Hazlewood's eyes were upon him, and that he was upon dangerous ground, --less " aristocratic," he was going to say, but substituted the word 'fashionable,"--"less fashionable than those surrounding you at Colonel and Lady Caroline Hervey's; the influences, I repeat, are more pure and wholesome. Method and punctuality are indispensable in the training of the young, and I expect that you will strictly con- form to rules. Of course you are a member of the Church of England,-Mrs. Hazlewood would not omit that condition in her enumeration of what was absolutely necessary in any young lady entering our house as gov- erness to our children,-and you will attend the services with my family twice on every Sunday, besides morning and evening prayers, daily. As you will find your chief happiness in the fulfillment of your duty, it will be our care to make your life as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. I am aware that the life of a gov- erness must be full of trials, especially for one so young as you are; but this you have no doubt taken into con. sideration when you undertook the task, You will find your best friend and adviser in my wife, but I shall always be happy to give you my opinion when required. For the present, I leave you with Mrs. Hazlewood." So saying, Mr. Hazlewood withdrew to his library, and Mrs. Hazlewood, who had exhibited various symp- toms of impatience during her husband's lengthy dis- course, took up the thread herself: "As I think I made you understand, Miss Camelli, you will have the entire charge of my three little girls. 1 have many duties and engagements, both as the wife of a clergyman and in society, which make it impossible for me to do justice to my children without assist- ance; and, from what I hear from Lady Elton" (she * i ISOLINA. 1'l produced her letter),. "I may place my whole confidence in you." ' I am much obliged to Lady Elton for her opinion of me," said Isolina, gently; "and I am sure that I will do my utmost to satisfy you." "I have no hesitation in trusting any one recommended by Lady Elton; though the profession of your father and your foreign name made me at first doubt whether you could be a fitting governess for the daughters of a clergy- man. Iordon me," she added, quickly, on seeing Isolina change countenance at this observation; "I mean no disrespect to the character of your father, which you, as a daughter, would be perfectly right to resent, but simply that his well-known name before the public might be thought unsuitsbIe to one in the place of instructress to my daughters. As you lost him when quite a child, and have since had the benefit of an education from Lady Campbell, one of the best and noblest of women, Mr. Hazlewood and I agree that a name should not be an objection in our eyes. " "But, indeed, I am proud of my father's name, and I was old enough, when I had the misfortune too lose him,"-and Isolina's eyes filled with tears as she spoke,- "to owe him some of the best lessons of my life. I love and revere his memory." "You are perfectly right, my dear, and I commend you for so doing, as, I am sure, would Mr. Hazlewood; but I wish now to speak about my daughters. The eldest, Jemima, though nearly twelve years of age, is, I am sorry to say, very backward in her education,-a great disadvantage to her younger sisters; but she was long very delicate in her health. Emily, the next, is as re- markable for her talents, which we wish encouraged, but not at the expense of nourishing pride and vanity. Sibylla, my youngest, is a sensitive little creature; you must study her character, Miss Camellij and have patience with her: she has her little peculiarities of temper, as you will soon discover. Their health is of the first importance. You are an early riser?" "I can rise at whatever hour you please." "Six o'clock will do. I am anxious the lessons should page: 172-173[View Page 172-173]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 172-173 IT 2 ISOLINA. begin an hour before breakfast, and that you should be punctual at morning prayers at eight; lessons from breakfast until twelve: I wish them to walk twice a day; dinner at one; lessons again, with the afternoon walk, till six. I should like you to give Jemima a couple of hours in the evenings besides. I was glad to hear you were such a proficient in music; Emily has no ear, and I cannot afford to give her a master, but you will be able to correct her faults, and give her and her sisters some knowledge of thorough-base, Drawing I should also like you to teach them, as there is no good teacher in Friarham, and, as you have had the bestfinstructors, you will be able. to prevent their falling into bad habits until I can take them to London for masters. You will ground them well in Italian and French, and read a little German with them. English composition, and history, of course. Their father gives them Latin and mathe- matics twice a week, but you will have to be present, in order to superintend their studies for him. Physical geography and a little natural history once a week, or on their walks, would be useful. When any good lectures are given in Friarham, I wish you and the girls to at- tend them. They take a dancing-lesson every Thursday, for I am very anxious that they should have a thorough education." "But do you not think that a part of these subjects might be taken at one time??' asked Isolina, not a little alarmed at the amount of information she was expected to impart. "Surely competent masters would be required for music and drawing?" "Masters may follow; but if I had intended the girls to have masters at present, I should not have been at the expense of a governess. I understood from Lady Elton that you were thoroughly versed in 'these sub- jects." -"Lady Elton perhaps judged too partially of me--" "Or you are, perhaps, too modest, Miss Camelli. We shall see. You will have a couple of hours every even- ing to yourself for stpdy and practice. Saturday after- noon the girls have a half-holiday, and you can take them a long walk into the country, or suggest other 'I' ISOLINA. 173 amusements. I wish them never to be idle, and I have provided various games, which combine amusement and instruction, for in-doors in wet weather: at their ages they require constant superintendence." "I will endeavor to meet your wishes in every par- ticular; but I am too well aware of my own imperfect knowledge to suppose I could teach all the subjects you mention as they ought to be taught, and without assist- ance." "If you have been properly trained for a governess, Miss Camelli, as I have no doubt you have, you are surely capable of imparting your own knowledge to others. I do not, however, think the less of you for your diffidence, and I can, without partiality, promise you a very tractable set of pupils. But I see you are tired: let me show you to your room, where I hope you will be comfortable." Mrs. Hazlewood lighted a candle for herself, and, giv- ing another to Isolina, she led the way up-stairs to a tiny apartment neatly furnished with white dimity. After charging her to be careful about fire and not to sit up late, she bade her a kind good-night and left her to repose and to her own reflections. On the whole, they were pleasing, and Isolina resolved to put forth all her ener- gies to fulfill the duties she had undertaken. The next morning at eight the family assembled in the dining-room for prayer and breakfast. When Mr. Hazle- wood had swallowed his toast-and-butter and his large cup of tea in silence, he placed himself sideways, and, crossing his legs, rested his elbow on the table and duti- fully read the "Times." Mrs. Hiazlewood looked over the letters brought her by the post, poured out tea, caressed her youngest daughter, and addressed a few words of admonition to the two elder. As a servant entered to in- form her that there was. an old woman waiting to speak with her, she requested Isolina to take the children to the school-room and begin lessons. When a girl marries at eighteen or nineteen and be- comes a mother, she must be very giddy or very criminalk if she does not feel the responsibility of her task in life; but for the first two years the infant demands little from 15* page: 174-175[View Page 174-175]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 174-175 174 ISOLINA. her beyond care for its physical wants, and, as her own years and experience grow with her child's growth, she gradually learns the art of education,-imperfectly, no doubt, as may be proved by the mistakes more or less affecting the character and the happiness of the being coMu- mitted to her charge, and which the best mothers confess and lament. But, for all her mistakes, the wholesome atmosphere of a mother's love and tenderness makes more than amends, and is as important an element in the development of the intellectual and moral faculties as food is for the growth of the child's body. . The girl of eighteen, however, who undertakes the duties of a gov- erness, is expected, by unreasoning and unreasonable mothers of nearly twice her age, to fulfill all the duties towards their children which Providence has demanded from themselves at a later period of life; she is, besides, supposed competent to give lessons on a variety of sub- jects, which, to be properly taught, would require an accomplished artist or philosopher. If the mother is too ignorant herself to perceive the danger of superficial teaching and superficial knowledge, by which the judg- ment is weakened and vanity fostered, still less is she aware that the young governess, strained beyond her physical powers, is rendered unfit to supply the maternal place or to act as the friend and guide of the child. Isolina had nothing here to dread of open defiance of her authority. Her eldest pupil was not only dull by na- ture, but had been neglected and ill trained from infancy, and she made no efforts to second the exertions of her governess or to concentrate her attention on the task before her. The second had been sent for a few months as a day-scholar to a school in Friarham, where she had acquired more vulgar tricks and love of mischief than ardor for knowledge. Isolina's first difficulty, therefore, was to establish order in the school-room; and her next, to make the lessons as little disagreeable as possible. Her success was not equal to her pains; and when Mrs. Hazle- wood entered the room at twelve and asked her how she had found her pupils, her answer was not sufficiently sat- isfactory to please the mother, who observed testily that she could know very little of children if she expected they i , * ISOLINA. .175 would be submissive the first day to a new governess. it You must gain their hearts, Miss COamelli," she added, as the little girls scampered off to put on their bonnets, "'and all will then go well." Isolinas task was as hard during the walk as in the school-room. Habits of disobedience or disrespect to a governess were displayed as soon as their mother was out of sight. Emily met her former sChool-fellows in the street, and could not be separated from them for some mninutes, whilst the subject of their whispered conversa- tions might be guessed at by side-looks and /little fingers half raised and pointed at Isolina. She returned from her walk at half-past one, to see that all her pupils had smooth hair and tidy frocks to appear at dinner. Mr.-- Hazlewood was present to say grace and to carve. "I hope you admire our country, Miss Oamelli?" he inquired, in a manner intended to be kind, and simply as an introduction to conversation, since the country had little claims to admiration, being flat and featureless, however productive to the farmer. "We are celebrated here for our trees," continued Mr. Hazlewood. "Jemima, did you take Miss Camelli to Beech Knoll this morning?" "No, papa: we went over the stiles by Farmer John- son's meadows and crossed the little bridge." "Did you ask for Widow Brown, my dear?" "No, papa, we had sot time: she would hurry us so." "She! Who is that?" said Mr. Hazlewood, frown- ing. C"I must request -you, Miss Camelli, to teach my children better manners, and especially- respect to your- self. Mrs. Hazlewood's appearance diverted the conversa- tion-into another channel. The children -had received an invitation to an archery meeting: their father had no objection to Sibylla going with her mother, but he con-: sidered such an amusement would cause an interruption, in the studies of the two elder girls, which would be un- favorable to discipline under the new governess. The young ladies pouted and looked at Isolina as if she had caused their disappointment. At length Emily ventured to remonstrate, but was commanded to be silent; an ex- hibition of temper followed, when she was dismissed from i page: 176-177[View Page 176-177]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 176-177 176 ISOLINA. the room. All this did pot improve their relation with their governess when they assembled for afternoon les- sons or during the afternoon walk. Isolina retired to bed exhausted with her day, and doubting more than ever her own power or ability in the task of education. During the weeks which followed,\however, she per- ceived that Mrs. Hazlewood's formidable programme of her duties was not expected to be carried out to the letter. Occupied with sundry other cares, that lady gradually left her children entirely to Isolina's charge during their hours of study, and she was satisfied if she saw them well and happy. The account the governess had to ren- der to Mr. Hazlewood was of a more satisfactory nature to herself. He was strict, but demanded nothing impos- sible, and he supported and enforced her authority. She felt likewise that she was daily gaining the affection of her pupils, which, as Mrs. Hazlewood had justly observed, was the only true way to secure their allegiance. They had warm hearts, and $had the advantage of good ex- ample as well as precept set them by both their father and mother. Isolina did not exact too much at first, and they soon yielded a willing obedience. Their parents were pleased, and, whilst devoting herself wholly to the improvement and happiness of her pupils, Isolina was contented in the fulfillment of duty. She began to enter- tain a real affection for the children, and she believed she had found a home at Mr. Hazlewood's. Lady Campbell, satisfied with Isolina's account of her new friends, did not again allude to plans for the future, as she was de- sirQus to avoid disturbing her in the performance of the duties she had just undertaken. r ISOLINA. . CHAPTER XIX. "There be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic lke thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me." BYRON. THOUGH Mrs. Hazlewood was anxious to make her children's governess comfortable, she forgot that a young person requires hours of repose besides those spent in sleep, as well as leisure for the improvement of her mind. She did not consider that the strain of constant teaching, with the responsibility beyond her years, must wear the strongest constitution, and that one so delicate as Isolina would infallibly break down; still less did it occur to that worthy lady that her governess might likewise require amusements and the excitement natural to her age: she was therefore surprised and grieved to see that Isolina was beginning to droop, that she looked pale, and that the discharge of her duties appeared to become more and more arduous. An interruption to the daily routine, however, was shortly expected in a visit from the bishop of the dio- cese, which obliged Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood to give two dinner-parties in succession. The first was to include all their friends in Friarham, and the second to be limited to the county families. On both occasions Isolina and her pupils were permitted to appear in the evening; and this permission was followed by a great inspection of frocks, in which she gave active and willing assistance, length- ening, altering, and preparing the young ladies to make a creditable appearance. Mrs. Hazlewood, meantime, toiled all day, and every day. The best porcelain and the finest table-linen had to be given out, the plate to be repolished, and additional jellies and creams to be ordered at the confectioner's, with all those hard-named, myste- rious, supernumerary little dishes which defy the culinary skill of a plain country girl. Some small disasters added H* page: 178-179[View Page 178-179]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 178-179 17 8 ISO DIN A. to the cares of this exemplary clergyman's wife. The sexton, who usually officiated as waiter on grand occa- sions, fell ill, and a less experienced person had to be en- gaged in his stead; and the said person had to be initiated into some of the most-important forms of waiting at table, handing coffee and tea, and announcing the guests, all which instruction the lady took upon herself; but, as she remarked, it was a great comfort that they were to begin with the town-party, as perhaps the sexton might recover sufficiently to take his usual place at the county dinner. There was a strong smell of soap in the house all the day the bishop was expected; but, to Mrs. Hazlewood's relief, his lordship, having several visits to pay in the neighborhood, did not make his appearance till just one hour before dinner. Isolina and her pupils were still en- gaged in the business of the toilet, when the stentorian voice of the new waiter ushered the guests into the draw- ing-room. The announcement of dinner was followed by a sort of lull, as Mr. Hazlewood marshaled his guests, until the buzz of voices and the rustling of silks were renewed on the stairs. When the ladies reappeared in the drawing-room after dinner, the children were called up and asked various questions, such as, ' Do you know my little girl?" "Do you go to school?" "How do you like lessons?" until Sibylla suddenly exclaimed, "Why do you not speak to our governess?' She is so nice " The lady to whom this question was addressed looked up at Isolina, and, in a tone of condescension, remarked, "You have a very promising set of little pupils. "For the first time Isolina's beautiful face seemed to strike her, and, turning to Mrs. Hazlewood, she added, in a whisper, loud enough, how- ever, to reach the ears of her on whom the observation was made, "' How'wery handsome she is, my dear \Mrs. Hazlewood I Are you not afraid of trusting her alone with the children?" "Miss Camelli is as good and prudent as she is hand- some," was the reply,-rather tartly given, as there was nothing Mrs. Hazlewood more resented than interference in her family arrangements. Though the answer was spoken in even Ia lower voice *' . V ISOLrNA. 179 than the question, it reached Isolina's ears, and converted her blush at the rudeness of the first remark into one of pleasure. No more notice was taken of her that evening, and Isolina sat feeling very forlorn for a couple of hours/ when Mrs. Hazlewood gave her a sign that she and her pupils might retire. The preparations for the dinner-party of the following day were even greater than for the first entertainment. Dinner was half an hour later, and Isolina-vainly begged to be excused from her evening attendance. Mrs. Hazle- wood particularly desired that she should accompany her pupils, and she was accordingly again seated in due form. prepared to endure another two hours' struggle against sleep. This party was restricted to twelve persons, and the ladies were dressed in better taste than those of the preceding evening, though quite as magnificently. No more notice was bestowed on Isolina, and less on the children. The races, horses,--subjects on which two of the younger ladies present exhibited a vocabulary of terms which would have gained them the admiration of a New- market jockey,-a flower-show which was shortly to take place, and some kigh-life scandal, supplied the place of town gossip. The gentlemen left the table rather earlier than on the former occasion, much to Emily's elight, as she had been all that day looking forward with to greatest pleasure to seeing Mr. Tom Fanshaw, a ge mleman who has been already introduced in the first chapter of this book, and who, with his elder brother and sister-in-law, Sir Richard and Lady Fanshaw, was dining this day at Mr. Hazlewood's. When last we heard of Mr. Fanshaw, he was a middle- aged gentleman with a touch of gray in his mustaches, and now, some nine or ten years older, he was fast ap- proaching, if he had not passed, his fiftieth birthday There was, however, no perceptible change in his apr pearance: he was still the good-natured gentleman-about. town, occasionally taking a run to Paris, and bringing back the latest fashions, the newest scent an his pocket. handkerchief, and either an exquisite set of studs, or a trinket or bonbon-box, for some favored fair one or petted child; for Mr. Tom Fanshaw was fond of children, and page: 180-181[View Page 180-181]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 180-181 180 ISOLINA. they loved him. He had no sooner joined the ladies in the drawing-rooml than he drew a chair beside Emily's, who was already in a broad grin of delight at the expected joke. "I have something new for you, young ladies; but I do not suppose that you care to see it," he began. "Oh, yes, we do 1" exclaimed all three, in a breath. You shall first tell me what it is. I give you three guesses. "It is a puzzle," said Jemima. "You silly girl l" exclaimed Emily; "that was what Mr. Fanshaw brought us last time." "But this is, nevertheless, a puzzle, Miss Emily," said Mr. Fanshaw, "since it has puzzled you." "I see it l' cried Sibylla, who had slipped from her chairon the other side of Isolina, and had stolen behind him,-"I see it, I do see it: it is a box " "A wonderful discovery, Sibylla," said Mr. Fanshaw, producing a tiny box and laying it on the table. "And now tell me what is in it. Hands off I Who will take charge of my box?"And as he spoke, Isolina's bright smile attracted him. "This lady shall open it," he added, presenting it to her; "but first I shall want a plate and a glass of water." Mrs. Hazlewood heard the request, though she was engaged in a grave conversation with the bishop, and she rang the bell. The ladies gathered round the table to see the contents of the wonderful box. The plate and 'the water arrived, and Mr. Fanshaw, opening the box care. fully, produced a little piece of cut glass, on which two figures of card were fastened, supposed to be starting on a waltz. A little water was sprinkled on the plate, and upon moving it skillfully, the figures began to turn, first slowly and then rapidly. The toy was at that time new, and all present were as delighted as the little girls. As Isolina raised her eyes from the figures on the plate, she met other eyes fixed upon her, and she started slightly as she recognized Count Jacopo Priuli. He bowed, and in his subdued voice expressed his pleasure at meeting her again. "I have not forgotten the pleasure you gave us at Lady Elton's," he added, " and I hope that we may be allowed to hear you again this evening." ISOLINA. 181 "Miss Camelli," said Mrs. Hazlewood, "will you be so kind as to open the piano? Perhaps you could assist Miss Tierney; she has promised to sing, and has her music, but she cannot accompany herself." Isolina rose to obey, and, as she did so, Count Jacopo whispered something to her of not wasting her powers. Mr. Fanshaw followed her to the piano: her face had struck him as one he had seen somewhere before, and each variety of its expression indistinctly recalled a familiar countenance. The name Camelli had at once explained the mystery, and he had no longer any doubt that she was the daughter of the celebrated actor and singer whose sudden death on the stage had made such a senr- sation in London a few years before; he recollected also hearing how Lady Campbell, then Miss Mowbray, had foolishy burdened herself with Camelli's portionless little daughter, and he had once seen the child at her house and thought her a pretty little thing. The recollection interested him, and he determined to make assurance sure. "You sing yourself, do not you?" he asked, as he handed her the music-book and Miss Tierney turned over the leaves in search of her song. "Yes." "You must, for you arie Italian, if I may venture to ask; but, indeed, before I heard your name, I could not doubt it." "No, I am not Italian by birth," said Isolina, smiling again at the curiosity of a stranger; "but my father was Italian. My mother is English." "There was one of your name who obtained for him- self a great reputation by his musical talents some years ago." e' "You mean my father," said Isolina; "he was well known on the stage here." "And not less known and respected by a numerous circle of friends and admirers. I had the honor of a slight acquaintance with him, and I never saw such a likeness between father and daughter." Mrs. Hazlewood just then interrupted the conversation by pressing Miss Tierney to begin. Mabel Tierney was not one of the young ladies who had just exhibited their 16 page: 182-183[View Page 182-183]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 182-183 182 - ISOLXNA. acquaintance with the race-course and with jockey slang: she was a fair little round girl, gentle and bashful. Her voice was feeble, but sweet and true, and as she finished her song she politely thanked Isolina for her accompani. ment. Two or three other young ladies succeeded her at the piano, and before Mr. Fanshaw's repeated request to hear Isolina. could be granted, the carriages had arrived to carry away the guests. On his expressing his regrets, however, Mrs. Hazlewood assured him that Miss Camelli would be most happy to sing to him when they were alone, and, as his visit to the country was to extend to a month, he promised to drop in some afternoon,-a promise which gave infinite pleasure to all the family. Count Jacopo was likewise staving at Sir Richard Fanshaw's, and Mr. Fanshaw was appointed to drive him that night in the gig back to Slowstream Hall. The con- versation naturally reverted to the party they had just left. "If that girl does not sing as she looks,--like an angel, -I am much mistaken," said Mr. Fanshaw, touching up the pony with his whip. "Take care, take care, Fanshaw, what you are about!" said Count Jacopo, jocosely. "You are not safe yet from the fascinations of fair ladies." "What a smile she has I she would bewitch any man." "It is as well," proceeded the count, " she is only the governess-: if she were one of the Miss Hazlewoods, I should say you were in considerable danger." "My heart has gone through too long a process of hardening for that; but I am curious to hear her sing." "I have had that pleasure." "You I Why, did you ever meet her before?" "Yes, at Lady Elton's; and it is a pleasure I should much enjoy again." "We will drive into Friarham, then, some evening together, and hear this siren." "I shall be most happy." "I wonder if you know anything of her relations. Her father was Venetian, and of some old family there." "You seem very anxious to ascertain all particulars concerning this fair daughter of the buskined muse." ISOLINA. 183 "Camelli I I know that is not her real name," solilo- quized Mr. Fanshaw. "Let me see; yes, I recollect: it is Michieli.". 4"A good old Venetian name, borne also by relations of mine." "Hal a fair cousin, no doubt; I would claim relation. ship at once, if I were you." "So should I, if I were you, Fanshaw. But I am not so smitten with the lady's charms -as you appear to be, or my heart- is made of less soft material. She is pretty, no doubt, but she has no style, no fashion, and she has "been brought up, Lady Elton told me, by her mother, a vulgar woman, the daughter of a country attorney, and related to half the shopkeepers in Woodford. Your illu- sion will not last; though I do not deny the charms of her voice. It is a pity she has not adopted her father's profession: she would have made quite a furor. But here we are: I see the lights of Slowstream, and your English Julys make a fire comfortable." The bishop took his departure from Friarham, and two days afterwards Mr. Tom Fanshaw, accompanied by Count Jacopo Priuli, paid a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Hazle- wood and claimed Miss Camelli's song. Isolina was summoned from her solitary apartment to join the family, and was soon seated at the piano, and giving as much pleasure; as she received. Before Mr. Fanshaw left, he delivered a message from his sister-in-law, who hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood, and all their family, in- cluding Miss Camelli, would visit Slowstream Hall the following week, when there was to be a flower-show, an archery- meeting, and a dance. Mr. Hazlewood was per- suaded to consent to this piece of gayety: he was, how- ever, thinking less of his children's amusement than of the pale cheeks of their governess, to which his wife had lately drawn his attention. In spite of Mrs. Hazle- wood declaring they were caused by Isolina's obstinacy in sitting up late practicing her music, by which she unfitted herself for her duties on the following day, he ventured to attribute the delicacy of her appearance to a life of too much monotony and study, and he believed that a little variety and amusement might restore her usual color. page: 184-185[View Page 184-185]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 184-185 184 ISOLINA. The day-was as brilliant as could be desired, when Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood, with Isolina and the three little girls, started in two carriages for Slowstream Hall, the seat of -Sir Richard and Lady Fanshaw. Lady Fan- shaw had sent her carriage to convey part of the family, and Mr. Hazlewood himself drove a marvelously small but thick-set pony, which managed at a short round trot to keep pace with the baronet's pair of stately horses. The vehicle which the pony had to draw was in propor- tion to his size, a small double gig, which, nevertheless, contained the tall, bony person of the rector, with his eldest daughter squeezed into the front seat, whilst on a board behind sat, or rather stuck, a chubby boy, who was scrub, footman, groom, and gardener-in one. Slowstream Hall was a new house, built by the pres- ent proprietor on a rising ground, with a river, or brook, or ditch, at the foot. The old family mansion, a crumbling ruin, which had been destroyed by a fire some years pre- viously, had once stood by the same ditch, but Sir Rich- ard had selected a healthier site for the new building. The Fanshaws were, however, proud of the river, Lack Trout, as water is scarce in the county, and no other gentleman's property can boast of such an advantage. A beechwood near the house afforded a convenient shel- ter on one side, and, owing to its recent erection, the three other sides were exposed and glaring, without even a climber to give color or- relief to compensate for the architect's utter neglect of light and shade, or beauty of form. The garden was old and in admirable-order, rich with flowers of every hue, and the'park -beyond, with its noble trees, made a pleasant baclground to the tents, scattered in all directions. The two Miss Fanshaws, in white- muslin dresses, with green sashes and green scarfs across one shoulder,-the dress uniform of the lady archers,-were strolling in the gardens when their guests arrived, and, after giving a hearty welcome to Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood and kiss- ing all the children, they bestowed a slight and stiff inclination of their heads on Isolina, and led the way to the drawing-room. Lacdy Fanshaw was there, giving final orders fo the servants; and her brother-in-law, who was ISOLIN4A. 185 always called into council on these occasions, was by her side. The welcome given by the Miss Fanshaws was repeated by their mother; but Mr. Tom Fanshaw, or Uncle Tom, as he was universally called, also shook hands with the governess, and, by addressing a few good-natured words to her, endeavored to make her feel at her ease. The sound of carriage-wheels announcing the arrival of more guests caused Mrs. Hazlewood to propose their taking a turn in the garden; and, accompanied by one of the Miss Fanshaws, she and her family moved away to inspect the flowers for exhibition and the preparations in the park. They had not gone far before they were joined by Uncle Tom, who brought with him Mabel Tierney, whose good humor and readiness to be pleased with everything, and to admire everything, made her a general favorite. The Children soon became tired of the dull conversation and slow pace of their elders, and Mrs. Hazlewood gave Sibylla leave to proceed to another part of the ground, where hay-making was going on. She was escorted by Isolina, whilst her elder sisters remained with their mother, in order to see the archery and join in the dance, which was shortly to commence on the grass. Isolina found about ten or twelve little ones already at full play, and their respective nurses were seated on a bench near, gossiping together. She sat down on another bench' at some distance to watch her young charge, who was soon as actively engaged as the rest, throwing hay at her companions. It was not'long before Isolina was called upon to assist, and, to the delight of the children, she entered into the full spirit of their games, and proposed others. She was thus occupied when she heard the voice of Emily, who, with two or three older girls and boys, had persuaded Uncle Tom to leave the archery and go with them to the hay-field. Uncle Tom was always easy to persuade, but this time 'he not only came willingly, but had perhaps suggested the move to his young escort. "Here I am, a prisoner, Miss Camelli," he began. "I think ybu must be quite tired of playing the leader in these juvenile sports, and perhaps will accept me as 16* 'l page: 186-187[View Page 186-187]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 186-187 186 ISOLINA. your substitute,-though, no doubt, a very poor represen- tative of so great a mistress of the revels as I hear you are." For. a quarter of an hour he was the most active of the party, though he allowed himself to be caught more than once in prisoner's base and other such games, and as often he-was led off in triumph by some happy little girl; but he at last declared he was quite exhausted, and, throwing himself on the grass near where Isolina was seated, he entered into conversation with her. "Do you prefer the beech, or the Spanish chestnut, Miss CGmelli?" "I think I like the beech best; but it is difficult to choose between them: each is so beautiful in itself." "-Right. Mine was a foolish question, for every tree, as even the smallest plant in nature, has its own peculiar beauty. The abstract idea of beauty is difficult to define, and I do not think it ever has been defined satisfactorily. Of course you have read Burke's Essay?" "No; I was recommended once to read it by Lady Campbell, but- I did not happen to meet with it at the time. I shall, however, read it when it falls in my way, as the subject interests me." "Naturally. 'There are some who must study the beau- tiful in books, but others, more fortunate, may study it in their glass." Isolina blushed. "You are fond of art?" Mr.- Fanshaw continued, in the same tone. "Very. " w "And all who love art and the beautiful in natur! must have a constant source of enjoyment when they behold that which the artist most loves in every stream." "I do not understand you," said Isolina, who did not desire to catch his meaning. "I think in cultivating art, in- deed, we only cultivate a nearer acquaintance with nature; and land and water alike afford us fresh sources of daily delight open to all,-to the poor as well as to the rich." "But all are not equally capable of receiving this enjoyment. It requires natural grace of mind, and an innate love of the beautiful, to distinguishI real beauty, whether in landscape or in the human face divine. Beauty is but another name for harmony,-harmony of parts ISOLINA. , instead of sound. Regularity of features alone does ljot constitute beauty, if there is discord between the fo m without and the mind within. I have seen the combina- tion produce even ugliness. There must be expression in the countenance, and grace of movement, significant of grace of mind. We have songs without words: this is music without sound." His eyes rested on Isolina's face, who was vexed at the blush which she felt rising to her cheeks. He seemed to read her thoughts; and yet the words which she could not help attributing to an intended compliment might have no reference to her. "Uncle Tom, do come and play; you are not tired'I yet," called a young voice from the hay-field. He was on his feet in a moment, and soon afterwards he left the children to join the dancers on the lawn. One of the Miss Fanshaws came for the little Hazlewoods at the request of their mother, and Miss Camelli followed. She stood apart whilst the children were presented to some of Mrs. Hazlewood's friends, who had expressed a wish to see them; and she was amusing herself by watching the dancers, when she was startled by discovering in one of the most gayly-dressed ladies her former pupil, Elgiva, at tha moment too deeply engaged in a flirtatiqa with Count Jacopo Priuli to perceive her ci-devant governess. Isolina perceived that she had not been unobserved by Count Jacopo, who, howeverl kept his head intentionally averted from her. Elgiva was looking very handsome, and her youthful appearance and lively sallies made her extremely attractive. A few yards off stood her husband, whisking a cane against his boot, and gazing at his wife with a stupid look of admiration. "How could Elgiva throw herself away upon him?" was the first reflection which passed through Isolina's mind; and the second, "Can this be poverty?" "You are looking at Mrs. Conway?" asked some one near her, and she perceived Mr. Tom Fansbaw again by her side. "She is very handsome, is she not?" "Very," answered Isolina, absently. "You know she eloped with Conway there, half a year ago? He is not quite so handsome, eh Y" page: 188-189[View Page 188-189]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 188-189 188 ISOLINA. "Mrs. Conway was under my charge when she left ' her home; and I was too glad to leave a house where I could not prevent so painful an occurrence." "Your charge Why, I should have supposed her your elder by some years. NDt a very easy charge, I should think. Do you want to speak with her?" "No, thank you." Then let me take you to the refreshment-room. Don't be afraid: neither Sibylla nor Emily will elope, though I won't answer for Jemima; but their mother is near? Mrs. Hazlewood, I am taking Miss Camelli to have some ice." "Thank you; you are very kind," said Mrs. Hazle- wood. "You can go, Miss Camelli; though don't be long, as we must be leaving soon: it is late for Sibylla. And, Miss Camelli," she added, as Isolina was moving away, "if you can find my handkerchief I left in the refreshment-room, I should be much obliged." "Mrs. Hazlewood is leaving very early," said Mr. Fanshaw, as he presented an ice to Isolina. "Don't you dance?" "I know no one here." "And no one has been introduced to you? Lucy," he said, turning to one of his nieces, " you have not in- troduced a single partner to Miss Camelli." "Do hand me those cakes, Uncle Tom," said the young lady, abruptly, whilst giving him a look which entreated him, as well as look could entreat, to hold his tongue, as governesses are not expeeted to dance. "It is too late now," continued Mr. Fanshaw, pretend- ing not to understand her; "but I should not regret your not dancing, as it has afforded me the pleasure of some agreeable conversation. Will you let me lend you the volume of Burke we spoke of? I know it is in my brother's library, and I could bring it over to-morrow, when I must, at any rate, ride into Friarham." "Thank you; I should like to see it." "And I should like to hear your opinion of it." "My opinion! that would not be worth much." "I beg your pardon: the impression of a young, fresh mind like yours is worth more than you think." "Miss Camelli Miss Camelli I have you found I * ISOLINA. 189 mamma's handkerchief?" said Sibylla, running into the room. "She is in such a hurry: the carriage is at the door, and she says we must go away." "You must have another plate of strawherries first," said Mr. Fanshaw, holding the tempting fruit before the little girl. "No," said Isolina, " we must go; Mrs. Hazlewood told me not to delay, and I have not yet found her hand- kerchief." "But I have," said Mr. Fanshaw, presenting it to her off a chair close by. "So, if you must go, good-by; and I shall hope to .see you to-morrow." He did not again offer his arm, but accompanied her and the child till they reached Mrs. Hazlewood. As he handed that lady to the carriage, and Emily and Sibylla after her, Isolina came last; a slight pressure of her hand, which might have been occasioned by an effort to save her from slipping off the step, made her heart beat a little quicker than usual. "Was that Miss Camelli with Mrs. Hazlewood?" asked Count Jacopo, as Mr. Fanshaw returned. "Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Conway, " my old governess I did not see her before, or I should have spoken to her. She and I were not too good friends in those days." Y "You appear to find her very agreeable, Fanshaw," said Count Jacopo, smiling. "Well, yes," replied Mr. Fanshaw: -"she is clever, and simple, and she amuses me by her observations. Besides, she. is very handsome, and I like to talk to a pretty woman, whoever she may be. Then her music!- you yourself confess' she is a first-rate musician, and with an organ which would beat Grisi's hollow, if she were on the stage. I suppose you have often heard her, Mrs. Conway?" "Of course; but I don't care for music. Am I not a heretic, and deserve to be burnt? But if you were to see Miss Camelli when she is excited, you would then indeed say she was made for the stage. I do think these things go by inheritance." page: 190-191[View Page 190-191]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 190-191 180 ISOLINA. CHAPTER XX. "Without the help of art, Like flow'rs that grace the wild, She did her sweets impart' Whene'er she spoke or smiled; Her looks they were so mild, Free from affected pride, She me to love. beguiled, I wished her for my bride." ALLAN RAMSAY. i MR. FANSHAW kept his promise, and called the next afternoon on Mrs. Hazlewood with tye book for Isolina. He took that opportunity of congratulating Mrs. Hazle- wood on her good fortune in having discovered so accom. plished a governess for her children. She thanked him for the kind attentions be had shown Miss Camelli; but he assured her that he had found her a most pleasing young person, and he then spoke of his recollections of her father, which led Mrs. Hazlewood on to recount all Isolina's subsequent history. Mr. iFanshaw next pro- ceeded to launch out in praises of the little Hazlewoods, and took his leave with the assurance that he had found his way into their mother's heart, and secured for him- self free admission to the house at all times. It was with no small disappointment that Isolina learned that he had called and she had not seen him: he had left a deeper impression on her heart than she was herself aware, and the pleasure she felt in his society was not the less dan- gerous that his age made her secure of the nature of her own feelings, and unsuspicious. of anything beyond friend- ship. The impression of a day would, however, have been effaced had not the book, to which she flew at every leisure minute, kept Mr. Fanshaw, his conversation, and her desire to comply with his request to hear her opinion on Burke's Essay, always in her thoughts. His visit was repeated two days afterwards, but still without see- ing Isolina. He found it was vain to hope to see her in the drawing-room, and he dared not intrude upon the ISOLINA. 191 school-room ; but the more inaccessible the lady appeared to be, the more Mr. Fanshaw was resolved to discover means to improve the acquaintance, and he was a man fertile in resources. 'He, accordingly, proposed to Mrs.: Hazlewood, half in jest, half in earnest, to give her three girls, with their governess, lessons in out-door sketching during the remainder of his visit to Slowstream Hall. "There could be no danger for her girls whilst under the care of Miss Camelli, whose steadiness of character and watchfulness she herself esteemed so highly." Mrs. Hazlewood never lot an opportunity for the advantage- of her- daughters, a#nd she gratefully accepted the proposal. All other lessons were to be laid aside on the days of walk and sketching, and Mr. Fanshaw, on his part, in- formed his brother and sister-in-law of his intention to- prolong his visit to the Hall for another month. Mrs. Hazlewood accompanied the sketching-party on the first lesson, and was delighted with Mr. Fanshaw as a master, wishing she were young again and had leisure to imt prove herself likewise; but, as this was impossible, she invited him always to rest at her house after the lessons, that she might have the pleasure of seeing him, and she promised him a little music from Miss Camelli. "The least Miss Camelli can do," she observed, "in return for such great kindness." Mr. Fanshaw desired nothing more. Three times a week Isolina and her young pupils spent three or four delightful hours in his company; she was astonished at her own progress under so able an in- structor, which was, however, the less wonderful since he devoted at least double pains and time to Isolina, because he declared it necessary to enable her to carry on the lessons after he left. His conversation interested her more and more, and the sympathy and pleasure he felt in her music completed the charm. She made no attempt to guard her heart, and it was with real sorrow she heard him speak of his intention of passing the ensuing winter in Italy,-Italy 1 to which country, she began to think, all her best friends seemed destined to turn their steps. The day for the last lesson arrived, and Mr.'Fanshaw himself felt more regret than a month before he could have thought possible. He had only at first been struck page: 192-193[View Page 192-193]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 192-193 / 192 is ih . with Isolina's beauty, but her truth and simple guileless. ness of character united with real ability, her capacity to appreciate and enjoy his remarks, the charms of her voice, and still more the expression she threw into all she sang or played, were stealing away the heart of this ordinary hard man of the world, who believed it was as well to depart -before he had made " a fool of himself." Isolina and her pupils, ready equipped, with drawing. books and drawing-utensils, were waiting for him when Mr. Fanshaw arrived for that last lesson. - It was one of those delicious days of a late summer, neither too hot nor too cold, when they started, about four in the afternoon, hoping to catch the rich evening lights. The first part of their walk lay through lates, with hedges on either side, where the clusters of ripe blackberries offered temptations to linger bv the way; and whilst the children were thus occupied, Mr. Fanshaw amused himself and Isolina by agreeable conversation. They at length emerged from the lanes, to reach a little wood on a rising ground, with the ruins of a cottage, making an admirable foreground. Here all sat steadily down to their work for a full hour and a half, and here they were still sitting, when a touch on her shoulder made Isolina look round. Behind her stood Elgiva, in hat and habit, and riding-whip in hand, with which she had gently tapped her former governess. "Elgiva I Mrs. Conway 1"Isolina exclaimed. "Yes, Elgiva. Miss Camelli, your servant. I am very glad to see you so agreeably employed ;" and she glanced at Mr. Fanshaw, who had started to his feet. "This is a beautiful spot you have chosen, Mr. Fanshaw," she continued, "and a charming amusement. Are these the Miss Hazlewoods?" "Yes," said Emily, before any one else could speak: "this isrmima; and I am the second, Emily; and this is Sibylla." "And all are my pupils, Mrs. Conway," said Mr. Fanshaw. "What do you charge a lesson?" asked Elgiva, laugh- ing. "As much pleasure as my pupils wilT grant me." s ISOLINA. 193 "I wish you had invited me I I dote on drawing, as Miss Camelli could have told you. Don't I?" "Yes," said Isolina; "I remember you had always much talent for drawing.9" "But not much perseverance? Too bad to betray school-room secrets. However,- she is the best witness of my powers, and though she knew I was in the county, she never asked me to join these delightful lessons. Con- fess it was jealousy, was it not, Miss Camelli?"And she looked boldly into Isolina's face, but could hardly have succeeded in raising a bltish, had not Mr. Fanshaw's eyes, with a more tender, inquiring appeal, been also fixed in the sane direction. "There I she is blushingl That is enough. 'tis con- science which makes cowards of us all. I should have been a very dangerous rival, for I do believe drawing is the only thing in which I could excel Miss Camelli. She is so clever, Mr. Fanshaw," Mrs. Conway added; in a half-whisper, but loud enough, she knew, for Isolina to hear; "mamma let her teach my little sisters every- thing." "So she does us," said Emily, who listened with eyes of approbation wide open, to what she only understood as praise of her governess. "But oh, Mr. Fanshaw!" continued Mrs. Conway, "what a beautiful sketch yours is I It gives all the char- acter to the landscape; I should never have discovered so much Ibeauty in it. It makes me quite envious, and regret m3re .than ever that I had not the advantage of these charming lessons." "You have no doubt spent your time much better," said Mr. Fanshaw. "Oh, no; 'you can't think what a stupid time I have had of it ever since I left dear, charming Slowstream Hall. The Maberleys are the dullest people imaginable; though this between ourselves, as I must not speak treason against Conway's sister, he is so vastly fond of her,-an excellent creature, no doubt, and ten years older than he, at least. I believe I frighten her out of her wits some- times by my wild ways. I shall be there another week: so do come over and see me, to prevent my becoming too "- IV' I 17 page: 194-195[View Page 194-195]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 194-195 194 ISOLINA. good. You must bring me this sketch ; I will have it, as a remembrance of my visit to your county; that is, unless it is already promised." And she looked inquiringly at Isolina. "Miss Camelli does not honor me so far as to ask for my poor performances," said Mr. Fanshaw. "But may I inquire how you found- us out here? are you alone? and where is your horse?" "You may well ask me at last, and I should have told you sooner without asking if I had not been so taken up with your delightful little party and your beautiful draw- ing, that I forgot all about myself. Mr. Conway, who, by the way, has no more eye for beauty in a landscape than this little dog," and she patted a small spaniel by her side, whilst giving an apparently unconscious sigh, "set out with me on a ride this Inorning, and we acci- dentally started a hare. He is such a keen sportsman, he was off in a moment, but my poor little mare and Fido could not keep up with him, so we fell behind; and as I was passing this wood I .heard voices, dismounted, gave my mare to the groom, and walked on here. I knew that I should find you somewhere hereabouts, for I met Mr. Hazlewood half an hour ago, and he told me the direction in which you had gone. But Mr. Conway will be back -again, and perhaps wonder what has become of me, unless hunger should send -him past the road on which we parted company. Perhaps he has not discov- ered his loss yet; but I must, at any rate, be going: so good-by., Come along, Fido." "You do not suppose that I could allow you to return alone? You must allow me to escort you, and help you to mount your horse," said Mr. Fanshaw, gallantly. "The escort I accept; the mounting will be better per- formed by my groom." And Elgiva noddeld her farewell to Isolina, and, slipping her well-gloved little hand into Mr. Fanshaw's arm, she looked up into his face with the most bewitching coquettish smile that ever flattered a bachelor past his prime into the belief- that he could still win hearts. They disappeared in the wood, and Isolina felt a pang she could hardlyaccount for. Elgiva bad disturbed this last happy evening, and had made her feel that a distance ISOLINA. - 195 even greater than that between England and Italy divided her fronm Mr. Fanshaw. She did not belong to his sphere; but he had stopped to talk with her as an equal, as a friend, and Elgiva appeared to claim him as belonging to her and hers alone. "What folly I surely Mr. Fanshaw is above all this worldly nonsense I and why should she, Isolina, be disturbed by so frivolous a cause?". Such were her reflections, when she was roused from her reverie by Jemima asking, "Where is Sibylla?" Isolina looked round, and, missing the little girl, started up, and called her name, but received no answer. "jI saw her go off in that direction," said Emily, point- ing to the side opposite that by which Mr. Fanshaw and Mrs. Conway had disappeared. Isolina set out at once in pursuit, desiring the two other children to remain quietly at their drawing-books. It was not long before she caught sight of Sibylla, at a distance, skipping like a butterfly, and gathering flowers by the wayside. When she heard Isolina, she paused, and then ran on, as if to attract her governess to a game of play. Isolina was too much out of breath to be able to chide, and pursued, thinking she must overtake the truant. The dews of evening were beginning to fall, and she wisted to return home; but it was not quite so easy to catch Sibylla, and the chase was destined to have a disastrous ending; for the little girl, looking back to see if Isolina was approaching her, stumbled in a hole in the turf, and fell with a l1oud cry of pain to the ground. When Isolina reached her, she could not scold, for the poor child was in terrible suffering from a sprained ankle, and the mtrry little face was suffused with tears. She tried to raise her, but found her heavier than- she expected; and she was con- sidering what she could next do, when, to her relief, ir. Fanshaw made his appearance. He had returned to the children, and, on hearing from them what had become of Isolina and Sibylla, had followed in the direction they pointed out. As Sibylla had run hither and thither, the distance was not so great as it seemed, judging, by the time they had been absent, and he soon reached the spot where the little girl lay in the arnms of her governess. Mr. Fanshaw lifted her up gently, and carried her, in page: 196-197[View Page 196-197]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 196-197 196 ISOLINA. as easy a position as he could contrive, to the nearest farm-house. Whilst Isolina bathed the ankle with cold water, he went in search of the older girls, to bring them to their sister and governess, and ordered a cart to be in readiness to convey them home. As the farmer was well known to Mr. Hazlewood, and promised to take all charge of the children, Jemima and Emily were at once sent back to Friarham, with instructions to order a car- riage with easy springs for Sibylla. The child, exhausted with her run as well as the pain, was no sooner a little easier than she fell asleep, and Isolina found herself alone with Mr. Fanshaw. "I fear it is a bad accident," she said, partly to break the silence. "I hope not, poor little girl! but the fall was severe. She will, at any rate, have the best of nurses in you." "What an unfortunate ending to our pleasant lessons i" remarked Isolina. "I am glad you found them pleasant; I shall always look back to them with the greatest pleasure, and even this accident is not without its consolation, if it enables me to be of use to you." !"I trust that neither the children nor I shall ever for- get the instruction you have been kind enough to give: us.,' "Nor I yours." "You are laughing at me, Mr. Fanshaw." "Far from it; no one could have the happiness of being as much in your society as I have been without feeling himself a better man. Thrown, as I am, with a very different kind of society, the society of the fashion- able, the idle, the artificial, there is a charm in conversing with one so pure, so gifted, which I cannot feel grateful enough for having been permitted to enjoy." "I am not accustomed to flattery, and I do not know how to accept it," said Isolina, trying to laugh. "I do not mean to insult you by flattery; I am speak- ing the honest truth from my heart. I wish Ihad not to go to Italy; but I am engaged to accompany a friend. I shall, at any rate, when there, see your second lmother,' Lady Campbell, and be able to speak with her of you. You think me an old fellow--do not you?-to fall in , $ ISOLINA. 19 love with one so young and beautiful as you are, and yet, if I ever loved any one on this -arth, it is you, Isolina, though I cannot expect my affection returned." Isolina looked uneasily towards the window, in the hope of seeing the carriage; but there were no signs of it yet along the road. "Mr. Fanshaw,-sirs---" she began. "Hear me out, I pray. I have indeed fortune, and 1 am heir to the baronetcy, as my brother has no son; but what are these to you?" "Mr. Fanshaw," again began Isolina, nervously, "you forget who I am; poor and---" "( Your poverty is nothing to me; and if the world does not know how to prize such a gem, it is only the greater reason for me to desire to possesslit, and set it where it may be seen and duly esteemed. Say but one word by which I may be allowed to think that I do not love in vain- "He took her hand, which she did not withdraw, though her eyes were fixed on the ground, and she made an ineffectual attnpt to speak. "It is enough," he con- tinued. " You imae me the happiest of men. I have but one more request, my beloved Isolina, which is, that during my absence in Italy for. one sole winter, long' as it will appear torme, you will hold yourself engaged to me, and that whoever may present himself in that interval you will not marry another. I shall see you once more before I depart; think over what I have said, and----" Isolina had withdrawn the band he had taken, and he could perceive that she was agitated. "I do not know,--I hardly know," she stammered, "what you mean." "Will you give me the promise I ask, I entreat-- " "Promise to --" "Not to marry any one till I return. I cannot now explain why I must not at this moment pledge myself as I desire. I have spoken thus prematurely, because I could not leave you without telling you how I love, how I adore you. I could not leave England without a con- firmation of my hopes, without some certainty that these hopes may be fulfilled on my return. Grant fne this one request, that you will not marry until then." 17* page: 198-199[View Page 198-199]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 198-199 198 ISOLINA. "No, sir, I can give no such promise," said Isolina raising her eyes, and looking proudly up into his face. Her voice was quiet and respectful, but her cheeks glowed and her lip was curled in scorn. He thought he had never seen-her so beautiful. "I am very young, and my actions depend on my friends more perhaps than on myself; but is it possible that you can ask me to bind myself to you, whilst you, who say you love nme, are to be left free?" "Isolina, listen to me,-but the child is awakening: come nearer the door." He again seized her hand, too tightly for her to. draw it away, and led her from the sofa on which Sibylla lay. 'Do not be hard upon me I I am peculiarly situated: there are reasons, family reasons, which you will one day know, which make it impossible for me to bind myself to you at this moment. I have been wrong to speak; but my love has hurried me beyond the bounds of prudence. I ask you now only to forgive me; to allow me to hope; I trust in your generosity. You cannot imagine the agony it is to me to think it pos- sible thattduring my absence you might become another's. You cannot imagine what I endure, because you do not know what it is to love as I do. I will hasten home, I will do all in my power to shorten my stay in Italy; ,but--there is that confounded vehicle, and we must part for to-night. I shall and must see you again 1"He dropped her hand as the carriage turned the corner of the road, and he saw Mrs. Hazlewood's head stretched from the window. "How is Sibylla?" she exclaimed, jumping out, as soon as the door could be opened. "Oh, Miss Camelli, I thought I could have trusted you better! Well, say no more just now; I must attend to the child. How good of you, Mr. Fanshaw, to stay with Sibylla!" Mrs. Hazlewood hurried into the farm-house, followed by Mr. Fanshaw, who, raising the child in his arms, carried her to the carriage, where he placed her on her mother's lap; then, handing Isolina in after her, he bade them farewell, and started by an opposite road for Slow- streamn Hall. Mrs. Hazlewood was too much occupied with the acci- dent to her child to observe anything unusual in Isolina. ISOLrINA. 199 Mr. Fanshaw called the next day to inquire after Sibylla, and to take his leave, but could find no opportunity of seeing Miss Camelli alone. After his departure, Isolina felt easier; and yet there was a weight at her heart, which she longed to relieve by telling everything to Mrs. Hazlewood. During the past weeks she had grown to admire, respect, trust, and unconsciously-cherish an affection for Mr. Fanshaw, and now, though angry with him, she strove vainly against herself, whilst never ceas- ing to regard him as she now thought he did not deserve to be regarded. it was too painful to think him selfish, to throw down the image she had been setting up in her own imagination; she would rather form a thousand excuses for him, and for the first time in her life she lamented her poverty and the obscurity of her birth. The effort to give the children their daily lessons was greater than usual, and a week elapsed without an op- portunity occurring for her to speak alone to Mrs. Hazle- wood. At the end of the week the postman brought her a letter with the mark Paris, and, hastening to her own room, she locked the door to read it quietly. Its contents were only a few lines, as follows: "Write to me here. Do not let me feel that every day which takes mgrfarther from you makes me likewise less near to you in memory, and that my folly is unfor- given. Keep our ecret, and believe in the unalterable attachment of "Yours,\ T. F." "Our secret!" she exclaimed, aloud, throwing down the letter. "' I have no secret." And, without pausing for reflection, she -ran to Mrs. Hazlewood's sitting-room and knocked at the door. "Good gracious, Miss Camelli I what is the matter? Has anything, happened to the children?"- exclaimed Mrs.- Hazlewood, as she saw her agitated face. "No, nothing is the matter; but might I haye a few words with you?" "Certainly," said Mrs. Hazlewood. And, laying down her pen, she bade Isolina tell her what she had to say page: 200-201[View Page 200-201]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 200-201 z vu I 3'OVUIA. without loss of time, as she was very busy. In spite of this injunction, Isolina could not speak for a few minutes but placed the letter she had received in Mrs. Hazlewood's hands. "What am I to understand by this, Miss Camelli? Is Mr. Fanshaw mad? What is this secret you seem so desirous to communicate to me?" "There is no secret, or rather there would have been -no -secret if I had had an opportunity before this of speaking to you." "Opportunities could not be wanting if you wished to find them, Miss Camelli. Has Mr. Fanshaw been making love to you?" Isolina's silence was enough for Mrs. Hazlewood, who continued, "A man of his age! Ridic- ulous!"Isolina did not quite like her treating with ridi- cuile what she felt was so serious. "And I must say that it was a most improper proceeding to take advantage of the confidence I placed in him to make love to my children's governess; but still more improper in you, Miss Camelli, to suffer your vanity to. allow you to encourage his ad- dresses unknown to Mr. Hazlewood and myself, and when in a position which should have made you more guarded in your conduct. I I do not know why you have brought me this note; unless it be to prepare me for your intention of leaving me." Whilst Mrs. Hazlewood was speaking, Isolina had recovered her composure sufficiently to be able to tell her story, and the lady was mollified by her candor, and signified her approbation of her conduct. "It is a very good thing that he has left England for the present," said Mrs. Hazlewood, as Isolina concluded. "I consider that Mr. Fansbaw h as been guilty of a breach of confidence, and shown great disrespect to Mr. Hazlewood and myself. It would have been wrong of him towards any young lady under our roof and our pro- tectio but much more towards my daughters' governess. You w $, of course, allow me to acquaint Mr. Hazlewood with all the circumstances?" "Certainly." I am afraid, Miss Camelli, your manner has not been sufficiently reserved." l1' VLZV OY. 1U IL "But I never suspected----- "How should you, indeed? I ahi not surprised at your being unsuspicious of a man of ,tr. Fanshaw's age. If I had dreamt of the possibility/of such a thing, I should certainly not have admitted him on so intimate a footing in the family. But you see, my dear, you must be very cautious. Don't distress yourself: you will- not see him for several months, if at all, again. I shall, if you please, burn this note when Mr. Hazlewood has seen it. Of course you could not reply to it; the less said the better. You need not, therefore, think any more about -Mr. Fanshaw; you have done perfectly right to confess all to nle: so now please to go to Emily and see that she practices that passage of Beethoven correctly. There is nothing like occupation to drive away idle thoughts." Isolina left the room to obey, ashamed to let Mrs. Hazlewood know that her heart was really touched, -that she thought Mr. Fanshaw neither ridiculous nor old, nor so wrong as she considered him; and she half repented having given up her note. "Only think what has happened l" exclaimed Mrs. Hazlewood, as she entered her husband's library, care" fully closing the door after her and seating herself in the chair opposite to his on the other side of the fireplace. "Whajt has happened, my dear?" asked Mr." Hazle- wood, looking up from a volume of Cicero, on which he was engaged. "]o put down your book and listen to me." MA. Hazlewood took off his spectacles and laid them within the pages of Cicero, which he had good-naturedly placed on the table; then, drawing his chair, nearer the fire, he put a hand on each knee, and, with his face turned towards his wife, waited patiently. Mrs. Hazlewood related what had happened in her own way; for every one has his or her way of telling a story. "I am sorry for this," said Mr.- Hazlewood, when she had ended ; " I always thought Miss Camelli such a re- markably steady young person. I am rather surprised, too, considering the difference of their ages. I should hardly think it a prudent marriage for either." I v page: 202-203[View Page 202-203]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 202-203 202 ISOLINA. "Marriage I Mr. Hazlewood, you do not suppose Mr. Fanshaw would really marry Miss Camelli?" "What else could I suppose, my dear? I thought you said that Fanshaw had proposed, or was about to propose, for her." "No such thing, Charles: he would like to keep up an amusing flirtation." '"I cannot think so ill of him." "Such an impertinence to us, to make believe of teach- ing our girls, in order to find opportunities to make love to their governess I I thought him so good-natured." "Sp he may be, my dear." "Not at all, when he only made me a stepping-stone for his diversions." "It might not have been a deliberate act; he might have begun by good nature, and have afterwards fallen in love with Miss Camelli, at which I am not surprised. She is unusually handsome and attractive, and I think we have been imprudent; but I am surprised that a man of the world, who has lived so long in-the society of people of rank and fashion, should have had his heart touched by a simple, unpretending girl. I cannot think with you that this is a mere idle flirtation. Fanshaw has more depth of feeling than he shows; at least he had when at, college, when I remember many a kind act of his. If he has formed an honorable attachment to Miss Camelli, I shall like him the better for it; and if she can really fancy him, it may, after all, prove an advantageous mar. riage for her." "Goodness, Charles I you cannot suppose that Mr. Fanshaw could seriously intend to marry- Miss Camelli, -an actor's daughter, and his family one of the oldest in the county I What would Sir Richard say?" "He is reallylold enough to choose for himself; and he' might do worse, my dear; she is a most excellent as well as accomplished young lady."' "Why, as for her good qualities, Mr. Hazlewood, noik one appreciates them more highly than I do; but I think her pretty face quite a misfortune to her, poor thing! As" I told you, he tried to exact a promise from her not to! marry any one else until his return from abroad." ISOLINA. 203 "Heyday I What? You did not tell me this part of the story." "Yes, I did; only you never attend, Mr. Hazlewood." "Without any pledge on his side to her?" "Of course not; and an hour ago she received this note from him." : "An impudent fellowl" ejaculated Mr. Hazlewood, with more vehemence than was his wont, and throwing the note on the table. "That is a strong term, my dear. Mr. Fanshaw, no doubt, has behaved most ungratefully towards us, and you see it is as I said: he has no real intention of marry- ing Miss Camelli.", "I do not see it at all. What does Miss Camelli her- self say?" "She was, of course, flattered by his admiration; but she is a sensible girl, and, after the advice I have given her, she will think-no more about him." "Poor girl I hope not. But, after all, Fanshaw is not a bad-hearted fellow. If it were not for the difference of age, he Inight make her a very good husband. Hers is such a lonely position." "But, Charles, she would never be received into his family, and Sir Richard and Lady Fanshaw would imagine that we had inveigled him iinto a marriage with our governess. They would never forgive us." "Nonsense, my dear 1" "Not at all nonsense, Mr. Hazlewood: you do not know, as I do, the exclusiveness ef a family like the Fanshaws." "I am'quite aware, my dear, that you who belong to an old family are more competent than I am to appreciate their weaknesses and folly; but in this case I do not see what blame can be attached to you or me." "Well, it has not yet come to that, at any rate,-which is one comfort." "Not come to what? If you mean not come to a pro- posal of marriage in due form, I hope and believe it will come to that; and if it does not, I tell you what, Maria, Mr.- Fanshaw will have to render an account of his con- duct to me. No man shall visit my family on false pre. page: 204-205[View Page 204-205]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 204-205 204 ISOLINA. tenses, and try to win the affections of a young lady re. siding under my protection, and then make her such a proposal as you describe, without meaning, as the next step, to! offer her marriage; and, Mrs. Hazlewood I say, if he does not, he is a scoundrel, and I will t I so!' "Don't be so excited, Mr. Hazlewood: t e iis no harm done. I tell you I am sure Miss Camelli's affections are not engaged, or she would not be so calm." Mrs. Hazlewood here stretched a point to reassure her hus- band. "I hope, too, that this little experience will prove a warning to her that, as she is unavoidably thrown into a society above herself, she ought to be peculiarly on her guard," "Above herself I Mrs. Hazlewood, I consider a lady is a lady so long as she conducts herself as such; and all I have seen of Miss Camelli leads me to believe her en- titled to maintain herewith the highest-born of the land."1 - " "You surely do ean to say a governess can ever consider herself the Dual of the daughters of ladies and gentlemen?." - I I "I beg your pardon, my dear; but do you mean that she, an educated woman, is only on a level with your lady's-maid?" "Charles, you are so provoking I You perfectly under- stand me!"' "I think I do; and I am sorry for it. God forbid that I should be a socialist or a leveler of ranks; but how can- I, a Christian clergyman, the follower of Paul the tent- maker and Peter the fisherman, consider a man or woman degraded in the exercise of their calling when in every other respect they are worthy of honor?" "Degraded! I did not say anything about degraded only I could not place Miss Camelli, an actor's daughter, by birth or position on an equal footing with-the county families." "Really, my dear, according to you, there has been a separate creation for county families. I disapprove of the theatre as an amusement; but I have always understood that Miss Camelli's father was an excellent man, and she has, at any rate, had a singular advantage ISOLINA. 205 in her education having been conducted by one of the most superior women I ever met with; and, I must add, Miss Camelli has not only proved by her goodness and \ ability that she is worthy of the advantages she has re- ceived, but she is formed to play her part in the hig hest circles,--yes, Mrs. Hazlewood, in the highest circles 1" "Re-ally, Mr. Hazlewood 1" said his wife, with a little scornful laugh. "You think that I am not so capable of judging in such matters as yourself; but, once for all, I tell you that we are alike descended from keepers of sheep and tillers of the soil; that the best and wisest among us have not been, for the most part, the children of wealthy parents, and that genealogical tables are generally lists of empty names, of less value than the -paper on which they are inscribed. Yet you look grudgingly on God's gifts when conferred on those who do not belong to a self-created class; you think beauty in the child of poor parents a misfortune, and make it so by envy antd pride; you would vulgarize grace, crush talent, and wound and mortify the most sensitive natures; you would destroy what God has bestowed on another, because that other has not a name in the herald's office. It is cruel Il it is unchristian!" "Yet, Charles, I married you in spite of this preju- dice." And Mrs. Hazalewood's lip trembled, and tears were rising to her eyes. Her husband looked at her for, a moment, and laid his hand fondly on hers: t"I was wrong, my dear, to class you with those whose principles I condemn; but what you just now expressed was unworthy of you. I nought to have allowed for the prejudices with which you were surrounded from your birth, and which you set aside to marry me, the son of a man who had raised himself by his own wits, and not by standing on dead men's graves. I am not sure, however, that you would have been allowed to marry me, Maria, had it not been for my profession. To return to this poor girl, I will not have her feelings trifled with. I desire you will treat her with the same consideration you would your own daughter. I shall keep this note," and he slipped it into his desk; " and when Fanshaw returns 18' (j page: 206-207[View Page 206-207]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 206-207 206 ISOLINA. from Italy, if Miss Camelli is still with us, I shall take care that he does her justice." "I think it would be better to let the matter drop. She is quite satisfied to act according to my advice." "So much the better; I trust to your good sense and good heart in doing your utmost to spare her and make her happy. I have now my sermon to finish : so I beg I may not be disturbed for another hour." He turned to his writing-table, and Mrs. Hazlewood left the room. From that time Isplina seldom heard Mr. Fanshaw named, except by the children. v--- CHAPTER XXI. "And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong) That I at last a, resting-place had found. 'Here will I dwell,' said I, 'my whole life long.' " WORDSWORTH. TIME and the hour wear through the longest day,--an axiom Isolina found true that wirier. Another letter reached her from Mr. Fanshaw, telling her where to ad- dress to him ; but, as both his attempts at correspondence remained unanswered, he ceased to write. Isolina had informed Lady Campbell of all that had occurred, and, by a letter Efrom her a month later, she learned that Mr. Fanshaw was in Rome, that he had spoken to her of " her child," and hdiddescribed her home with Mrs. Hazlewood as all that could be desired for the present, whilst expressing the warmest interest in her happiness. "'But," continued Lady Campbell, " do not, my dearest Isolina, build any hopes on this.- He confessed to me his error in having tried to persuade you to write to him; he praised your prudence, as well as dignity of character, and even assured me of his unalterable attachment to you; but I gave him no encouragement. - He added that there ISOLINA. 20T were reasons which had prevented him from coming for- ward to offer you his hand in marriage at present. These reasons I can guess; and any man whom family pride, or -fear of offending relations at the age to which Mr. Fanshaw has arrived ,mav prevent from at once pro- posing marriage to you, whilst endeavoring to win your affections, does not really love you as you imagine: he is too low in principle to know what real love means, and is not'worthy of my Isolina. Never, my child, think of marrying a man who would be ashamed of your birth or of your relations; it is a sufficient proof that his love is not as strong as that of a husband should be, and, besides, that he is of a low order of mind, 'attaching more value to mere worldly vanities than to what constitutes real worth in the eyes of God. I will not speak of the differ- ence of your ages, which might render such a union undesirable for your happiness; but remember-that he has passed all his life in an atmosphere totally different from yours, which has led his mind and his thoughts in a channel where yours, I trust, will never follow him. Think -no more of him, then, my beloved child, but as a good-natured friend." Every word of this letter inflicted pain, and yet Isolina, confessed its wisdom and truth, only she began to think, and the more she thought the more she was convinced, that Lady Campbell did not know Mr. Fanshaw; that had she seen him and conversed with him as she (Isolina) had seen and conversed with him, when he bad shown her, under a surface of vanity, such depth of character, such high and noble aspirations, Lady Campbell would not have so decidedly condemned him. Whilst thus sur- veying him in the mirror of her own pure little heart, Isolina believed him what she wished him to be. Per- haps, had she, like the daughters of wealthier parents, been living in her own home, where she could have associated on a footing of equality with all surrounding her, she might have felt more independent of marriage, and it would have been more difficult for a man like Mr. Fanshaw to win her affectionis; but, unconsciously, the prospect of happiness which/a home of her own held forth, with a friend to lean upon in all the cares and trials ,-" page: 208-209[View Page 208-209]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 208-209 208 ISOLINA. of life, had its influence, and made her more ready to think she had found this friend in Mr. Fanshaw. She hardly realized how much she desired this blessing until all seemed adverse to its attainment. But she resolved to devote herself to her duties, however painful the effort, and she was rewarded by the pleasure MXr. and Mrs. Hazlewood expressed in the progress their children were making under her tuition, and by the daily increasing affection of her pupils. Society of any kind had become irksome to Isolina, and she therefore devoted all her leisure moments to follow- ing up a direct course of study which she had laid down for herself in order to divert her mind from dangerous subjects. Still, the struggle could not fail to tell in her looks, and that delicacy which Mrs. Hazlewood had be- fore remarked returned in even a greater degree. Her kind friend proposed that she should pay her mother a few weeks' visit, and Isolina was therefore sent home. Home, with its old associations, the delighted welcome of her mother, and even Rebecca, whom Isolina loved, in spite of a certain antagonism which had always existed between them, awoke her for a time out of her day- dreams, and ,in a week a fresher color had returned to her cheeks. About ten days fter her arrival at the cottage, a barouche drove up to the gate, and IJady Elton alighted, followed by a lady whom Isolina did not at the first moment recognize; but in another minute they were in each other's arms. The lady was very lovely, though -she had not the classical beauty or animated expression of Isolina; her complexion was of the most delicate white and red, her silky auburn hair was parted on her forehead, beneath a becoming little white hat with a single large ostrich feather; her dress of lilac silk was made in the latest fashion, and a shawl of fine black lace nearly covered her from head to foot. She led by the hand a small waxen-complexioned little girl of afbout six years of age, whose baby face resembled that of her mother. "Alicel" exclaimed Isolina; "this is indeed a sur- prise I And is this your child?" "Yes," said the Duchess of Pedantmere, and added, t ] ISOLINA. 209 , V , turning to her little girl, "This, Madge, is my old friend and playmate." How unchanged you are V" continued Isolina, looking s at Alice with eyes beaming with affection. "And how changed you are, dearest Iso]ina!--at least in some respects. I should hardly recognize in you the little fairy girl who crowned me in the woods." After the first greetings and inquiries were over, the two friends walked to the window, leaving Lady Elton to bear all about Isolina's health and about the Hazlewood family from Mrs. Camelli. "No, you are not so much changed, either," pursued Alice: " the old face comes back, only you are thinner,- taller, of course; but you have a look of care that I do not like, dear Isolina. No wonder. Your life is not, I fear, so easy a life as mine has been; and yet "She sighed. "Oh, I have much to make me happy I I only wish Lady Campbell did not remain so long awayv. You can- not think how I miss her and Sir Roger,-their advice, their help, in everything; but I am so glad to see you." "I hear that Sir Roger and Lady Campbell are now in Rome, so that I have a chance of seeing them, as we shall winter there this year; unless perhaps they are returning to England." "Oh, no; I am sorry to say," broke in Lady Elton, "they do not propose returning for another year: the medical men have ordered Sir Roger to try another winter in Italy. By the bye, Isolina, if you would like to send me a letter for Lady Campbell, I shall have an opportu- nity next weelr, when my young friend, your former pupil, - Mrs. Conway, starts with her husband for Rome. Mr. Conway has broken a blood-vessel when out hunting, and they say nothing will save his life but an immediate change of climate." Isolina blushed, she scarcely knew why, but the recol- lection of Elgiva was unpleasantly associated with that last evening with Mr. Fan'shaw. "It is indeed very shocking," continued Lady Elton; " so young and so lately married. The marriage, to be sure, was a foolish affair; she is a wild, headstrong girl; but she has been severely 18* page: 210-211[View Page 210-211]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 210-211 210 ISOLINA. punished; for I d6o think her love survived herelope. ment. She is very distinguished-looking, and much ad- mired; a general favorite from being so lively. His father, as well as Colonel Hervey, behaved in the most generous manner to them when the thing was done and there was no help for it, and they are now sending them abroad." "I am glad that a reconciliation took place," said Isolina. "I am writing to Ellinor to befriend her in Rome: so I can easily inclose a letter-for you.'- "Thank you: I will write this evening, and send my letter to you early to-morrow." , Alice proposed that Isolina should show her her garden; and the two friends thus escaped, to spend a quarter of an- hour alone after an interval of years. "And now tell me,^" asked the young duchess, whilst her child ran down the walk, followed by Mrs. Camelli's terrier, which had succeeded the deceased Lupo,-" tell me, are you happy?--as happy as dear Lady Campbell could desire you to be?" "We air have our trials, and I do not suppose that mine are more severe than those of others,; but I confess that the life of a governess is-not a pleasant one " "I was sure not. You have too much care in your face for one so young." "But I was going to add that I do not think, under the circumstances,-away from home and looked down upon by the friends of those with Whom I reside,-I could be happier than with Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood: they are themselves excellent, kind people, to whom I am really attached, and I love the children, who are growing to love me. I only hope that I may fulfill my duty towards them." "I wish you may one day learn to love my little ones, Isolina. How I should like you to be their governess when they are older I But," she added, smiling, "I ought not to wish that, as it is like condemning you to single life, and I would rather hear you were happily married. You are not going to be married, are you, Isolina? Per- haps I ought not to ask secrets?" ISOLINA. 2" "Yes, you may; but I am not going to be married, and I shoulddlike better to live with you than with any one -in the world except Lady Campbell. Sometimes, however, I think I have undertaken the task of governess too lightly." "-How so?" "To teach is one thing, and to watch over and train the mind of a young child is another. It requires experi- ence, study, knowledge of character in all its varieties,- a sort of intuition which I sometimes now doubt if I possess; and I feel the responsibility. Mrs. Hazlewood leaves all to me. I am too new in my acquaintance with life. If I ever become your governess, I shall ask you to share the responsibility more with me." "How grave you have become, Isolinal I should hardly recognize my wild, merry companion of a few years ago." "I have had experience to sober me, sand leisure to reflect; I have not had much of the gayety of life." She tried to smile, but her heart was full, and tears found their way unbidden to her eves. "My darling Isolina, you are not happy!" said Alice; "and I" She paused, or she would have added that she too was not so happy as she had imagined in her days of girlhood. "I ought to be happy," said Isolina;"I once thought work was the happiest, most honorable condition possible. Lady Campbell thought so." "t And so it really is, and should be, if work were hon- ored as it deserves; but, even if it is not, it is better than an idle existence, surrounded by riches and vanities, which soon pall. A life without aim and without--" She again checked herself, as she was going to say, " without love." Her eyes fell on her child, who bounded to her side, looking all brightness and affection, "I am wrong, Isolina. I appear discontented, yet I have many treas- ures to-make life precious to me, and this is my first." At that moment Lady Elton and Mrs. Camelli joined them from the cottage, and Lady Elton reminded the duchess that it was time to return to the Hall. Whilst her hostess was giving some directions to the servants, Alice, page: 212-213[View Page 212-213]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 212-213 212 ISOLINA. who was just going to enter the carriage, stepped back, saying, "By the bye, Isolina, I had nearly forgotten a message I had for you. Captain Mowbray is at the Pines, and he bade me tell you that he and his brother hope to call on -you one morning before you return to Friarham. ", "Pray thank them," said Isolina, who could not help observing the slight tinge which overspread Alice's trans- parent skin as she mentioned Captain Mowbray's name to one who had been the confidante of their youthful love, "and, say," she continued, "my mother and I shall be most happyto see them; but I return to Mrs.,Hazlewood at the end of this week." Isolina spoke loud enough for Lady Elton to hear every word, and, as that lady turned to give her a fare- well nod from the carriage, she was satisfied to perceive there was no displeasure in her countenance. The-visit was duly paid when the two brothers walked over to the cottage the' day before Isolina returned to Friarhaim. They had heard of the possibility of her marrying, though only obscurely hinted, and in a manner to leave the impression on their minds that Isolina was, ready to sacrifice herself for ambition. Mrs. Hazlewood had considered it her duty to acquaint Lady Elton with all that concerned Isolina, and bad accordingly commu- nicated Mr. Fanshaw's attentions to her governess in a private and confidential letter; and though Lady Elton considered the parti very unsuitable, and though she had laughed heartily at Elgiva's humorous description of his devotion at the fate champetre at Slowstream Hall, and still more at the little scene in the wood, when the fashionable dandy had -consented to act drawing- master to three little girls in order to make love to their governess, still, she felt this created a security for -her own sons, which made her not averse to the idea of Isolina eventually marrying Mr. Fanshaw. Frederick Mowbray was, however, deeply pained,-more than he allowed his mother to perceive; and, though he tried to excuse worldliness in Isolina, on the plea of a natural de- sire to emancipate herself from the uncongenial life to which she was doomed, she fell in his estimation, and he 1 -i ISOLINA. - 213 half reproached himself for not having saved her. Cap- tain Mowbray knew his mother's character too well to believe the story as it was told him, but had accepted it without comment. He had mentioned the rumor to Alice before she called at the cottage, and he rejoiced when, on her return, she delivered Isolina's message, adding, "And I am sure there is no truth in the story about Mr. Fanshaw." The brothers found Isolina frank and simple as usual, a little graver, perhaps, and in appearance more delicate. They begged for a song, and found her voice had gained in mellowness of tone As well as ease. She told them she had practiced much lately in her long, solitary evenings, -solitary from choice, to, give her leisure for study, as nothing could exceed the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Hazle- wood. Soon'&rfLenr-Jlina's return to Friarham, the family started for Wales, where they spent several weeks of the/ sumamer. Even had Mr. Fanshaw then returned from Italy, Isolina could not, therefore, have seen him. The uncertainty she still felt regarding his intentions seemed, in spite of wise advice and kind warnings, to keep the thought of him constantly in her mind, until he appeared to belong to her and she to- him. A sort of undefined vision of a home with the intelligent and accomplished friend whose tender devotion she had already experi- enced, but which was to be continued throughout her life, produced a feeling approaching tranquil happiness and enabled her to fulfill her duties cheerfully. Suspense is so intolerable that imagination itself will sometimes step in and invite the repose which it is the first to dis- turb. Isolina had an assurance, a faith in her lover, that neither his conduct, which she had been the first to con- demn, nor the doubts of friends, not even Lady Camp- belils, could shake; and it was only now and then that the cold, cruel promptings of reason would intrude them- selves to interrupt her pleasant dreams. The summer passed away, and in autumn the family returned to Friarham. The first news Isolina heard was that Mr. Fanshaw was in England and was paying a visit to Slowstream Hall. He had called on Mr. Hazle- page: 214-215[View Page 214-215]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 214-215 214 ISOLINA. wood, who had left Wales before his family, and had promised shortly to repeat 1hi visit. Isolina felt as if awakening from a pleasant dream, and that bitter dis- appointment might be awaiting her; she almost dreaded to see him again; and when the next day she was sum. moned to the drawing-room by Mrs. Hazlewood herself, and found her lover there, she became so nervous that her manner was constrained and cold. Mr. Fanshaw felt it to be so, and attributed it to a change in her feel- ings ; his vanity was piqued; he only came to see if she was as charming as before he left England, but he had never doubted his place in her affections. Without pay- ing her more attention than any one present, he made himself, therefore, unusually agreeable whilst relating anecdotes of his travels. He spoke with the highest admiration of Sir Roger and Lady Campbell, and added that they thought of returning to England next year. He had touched the right chord. Isolina was roused to make more inquiries, and she. soon forgot herself in her interest in friends whom she so truly loved. After Mr. Fanshaw had taken his leave, she returned to the school-room with the flat feeling of disappoint- ment. Nor were Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood satisfied. Mr. Fanshaw was neither one thing nor the other: he was evidently still thinking of Isolina, and yet there was nothing in his manner to mark the lover: they could not make him out. - Another week passed without seeing or heating of him, and they knew that his visit to Slow- stream was limited to a month. One day the children received permission to pay a visit to a young friend who lived a couple of miles out of Friar- ham. Their governess was to take them there, and their mother promised to call later in the carriage and bring them home. Isolina was walking quietly back by a path which led across a field, when the report of a gun alarmed her, and the next moment Mr. Fanshaw was by her side. "Miss Caelli" he exclaimed, in a tone of affected surprise and real pleasure; (" am I so fortunate as at last to have found an opportunity of speaking to you alone? I hope I did not frighten you?"He held out his hand, ISOLINA. 215 and she frankly gave him hers, whilst her face became crimson and her heart beat rapidly. "I would have con- tinued to write to you," he went on, 1" but you would not give me leave to hope for any apswer. You thought it right to refuse my request to be allowed to correspond; perhaps you were right. I can indeed think so, now that I have the happiness of finding you still free and more charming than ever. Tell me how you spent those weary months which were so trying to me. Did you some- times think of the happy days we passed together before I went abroad?" Isolina looked up with- her brightest smile, and he pressed the little hand he still held in both his; then, dropping it, he walked on by her side. - e did not very well know what to say next. "If she would only speak l" he thought; but those trustful eyes, implying such con- fidence in the reality of his affection, embarrassed him. Had he not left her when he did, or had he returned-in a few weeks from Italy, with the impression of her attrac- tions still fresh on his mind, he might perhaps have acted a more honorable part; but his tour, the friends he had met, and the change of scene and thought, with nothing but the sight of Lady Campbell to remind him of a fancy of which he had been more than half ashamed from the beginning, had restored him to his former frivolous, worldly self, and other agreeable fair ones had meantime cooled his passion for Isolina. Yet he could not relinquish the pleasure of conquest, and, whatever he might feel for her, he was resolved that she should not escape his fascina- tions. As they reached the farther end of the field, the path divided in two: one led to Friarham, the other skirted the wood in an opposite direction. He stopped, and Iso- lina, more hurt and surprised at his silence than he at hers, turned to bid him good-by. "Not yet, Isolina I not yet 1" he exclaimed. "I cannot part without a word from those lips to tell me I have not been forgotten,--that I am still honored by your love I Why, why did you meet me so coldly the other day,?" "Because," said Isolina, looking down,--" because so many were present that I could not say how'glad I was page: 216-217[View Page 216-217]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 216-217 216 ISOLINA. to see you return." She thought she had said too much; but Mr. Fanshaw did not think she had said enough. "You have not forgotten the last words which passed between us?" "How could I?" "Nor have I. I find you unchanged, except in greater loveliness; but you doubted me, Isolina, then. Do you doubt me now?" "What assurance could I have that you really felt all that you expressed for me, since you asked me to pledge myself whilst leaving you free? Mrs. Hazlewood said that I did rightly to refuse your request." "Mrs. Hazlewood I Why did you consult Mrs. Hazle- wood? Have you not a mother, if you cannot trust me nor your own heart?" "Whilst in Mrs. Hazlewood's house, I have no conceal- ment from her." '"There can surely be nothing wrong in keeping an- c5her's secret, not your own. But I will not reproach yod; I only wish to know that you still love me." Iso- ;lina:did not reply, but allowed him to take her hand again, which he pressed to his lips. : "I do not know," she said, softly, after a few minutes' pause, " if I ought to listen to you or to answer you, for whatever I say I wish as soon unsaid." "Surely you may speak without fear to me. Can you doubt my love, my constancy? Every word from your lips is precious to me, my Isolina. I could listen to you forever, for I'can never now know happiness without you. Will you still be cruel and refuse me the one favor I ask, -not too great a favor if you-really love me,-to promise never to marry another,-^-to look on me as your future husband? If the world does not know what we are! to each other, is it not enough that we know it ourselves? In a few weeks' time I hope to be able to declare it openly. Do I not suffer fifty times more than you by the cruel circumstances in which I am placed.? Pity me, Isolina, and do not add to my pain." The more Isolina hesitated, the more ardently Mr. Fanshaw'entreated. Hurried on as much by the deter- mination to overcome opposition as by love, he with ISOLINA. 217 difficulty persuaded her to trust to his honor, to his generosity, and to consent to a secret promise of marriage. This was more than he had proposed to himself when they met, and when all he desired was to assure himself of Isolina's affections, that-he might, if he pleased, at some future time make her his wife, and, if not, at least save his vanity from the: mortification of a repulse. But, as Isolina reluctantly yielded to his entreaties, and looked up so confidingly with her soft, large eyes, his better feelings prevailed, and he thought he should have courage to face the remonstrances and ridicule of the whole family council. When Mr. Fanshaw reached Slowstream Hall just in time to dress for dinner, his thoughts were full of the beautiful girl he had left, but reflection had cooled his ardor. Although determined to brave the laughter and the anger of. his friends and relations, and to insist that his future wife should be received with honor among them, he thought he had been too hasty, and he did not feel very comfortable. He consoled himself, however, with the recollection that nothing was known, nothing decided, and that at any rate, as he had Isolina's promise of silence, he need not think more about the matter for some weeks to come. When he descended to the drawing-room, dinner had been already announced, and he was met by Lady Fan- shaw with reproaches. "There is a lady here," she said, in a Jow voice, "impatient to see you, but you are so late that I can only send you in to dinner, with her." She led him to the sofa, where sat Elgiva in deep mourning. There was a certain coquetry in her weeds which made her look more attractive even than when Mr. Fanshaw saw her last in Naples. He knew that, soon after he parted with her, she had lost/her husband, but he had not heard of her return to En gd. They had together visited all the sights of the Eternal City at a time when Mr. Conways state of health had confined him to his room, and when his wife, apparently unconscious of his danger, had enlivened all the English society in Rome. To Mr. Fanshaw she had been the most attentive of listeners when he acted as the guide to large parties of IK - . page: 218-219[View Page 218-219]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 218-219 218 . ISOLINA. his countrymen and described the antiquities of the city or dilated on its history and classical literature. If superficial in his knowledge, his audience was more ignorant than himself, and he was always sure of the un- qualified admiration of Mrs. Conway. Her compliments were sometimes exaggerated, but the subject of them was not inclined to be critical. During dinner that even- ing, Elgiva made herself more than usually agreeable. They had so many pleasant recollections in common, visits to the Coliseum by moonlight and torch-light, the Vatican, and even the Catacombs, all tempered with a certain sadness from the event which had so changed her life, that, in the interest she awakened in Mr. Fan- shaw, he forgot to think once of Isolina. The whole of that evening was devoted to Mrs. Conway, and, as the incidents of the day recurred to his memory, he cursed his own weakness in having gone so far with Miss Ca- melli. "At any rate," he argued, "she will not speak of it. I could not help her falling in love with me, and if I have been too soft, it is pardonable towards so lovely a girl. But marriage I it is out of the question. She is bound to secrecy, and I will find some pretext or other to get out of my scrape: it would be perfectly absurd to think seriously of making her my wife.1' CHAPTER XXTT. i"Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, And I will comment upon that offense; Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt, Against thy reasons making no defense." SHAKSPEARE. A WEEr had paded, and Isolina had neither seen nor heard from Mr. Fanshaw. She began to be very un- comfortable, and to repent having given him any promise of concealment. She longed to open her heart to Mrs. Hazlewood, and at length ventured to write a few lines P - ISOLINA. 219 to her lover, begging to be released from her prgmise of secrecy, and asking when she might hope to gsee him again. The following day she received a note in reply. cautiously worded, assuring her Mr. Fanshaw would do his best to satisfy her, but implying that her impatience to meet him exceeded even his to see her. Isolina's cheeks burned as she read and re-read this letter. Could she have acted in a forward manner, or had be already, now that he was secure of her affection, changed his tone? She longed more than ever to speak with him and to come to an explanation. The following Sunday she was destined to see .him, but only to be more than ever perplexed by his conduct. The pew belonging to the Slowstream family was opposite that of Mr. Hazle- wood's, and, after the service had begun, the rustling of silks up the centre aisle disturbed the attention of the children, .and Emilv peeped into Isolina's face with eyes beaming with a delight which her governess well knew could proceed only from the sight of Uncle Tom. When she herself took courage to look round her, she indeed saw him with the rest of the Fanshaw family, but next him a lady in deep mourning: turning to survey the church, their eyes met, and Isolina recognized Elgiva. She saw herbAfter the service leave the pew, followed by Mr. Fanshaw; she saw him hand her into the carriage, and, after his sister-in-law had taken her place, she could perceive that he bad seated himself opposite Mrs. Conway. All this Isolina saw, though she appeared to be quietly oc- cupied with her pupils, and all this continued before her "mind's eye," as, with a sick heart, she walked homewards. Mr. Fanshaw was not much more comfortable, for he too had never lost sight of her; and, as he drove back to Slowstream Hall, the little coquettish childish airs of Elgiva, even her flattery, which she laid on for once, rather too thickly, failed to please. The quiet, modest grace of the girl he was forsaking formed a contrast with the artificial charms of the lady who was trying her best to please him, and, could Elgiva have read his thoughts they would not have been so compli- mentary to her as she imagined. He resolved to seek out Isolina the following day, with the purpose of fixing i page: 220-221[View Page 220-221]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 220-221 220 ISOLINA. ' his destiny by an open declaration of his attachment; but that following day found him still irresolute, and a tete-d-tte walk in the garden with Mrs. Conway sufR ficed to change his resolution altogether. They again spoke of Rome, and of past happy days, and for the first time she confessed to him, what she had allowed him often to suspect in her husband's lifetime, that her mar- riage had not been happy. She blamed herself for imprudence, but alleged the excuse of her youth and ignorance, and even insinuated that her home had been rendered unhappy by the jealousy of her elder sister, whilst she shed tears when alluding to the misery she had afterwards endured with an uncongenial companion. She asked Mr. Fanshaw's advice as to where she ought now to live, and whether it would be wise for her to accept the home- offered her by her parents, especially whilst Beatrice was unmparried. Mr. Fanshaw was flattered by the confidence reposed in him, and admired the sense as well as excellent feeling of this fair young widow. He pitied her helpless condition, and before they parted he had actually persuaded her to try matrimony again. But what was he to do with Isolina? He postponed seeking an interview with her for a few days. He could not yet make up his mind'to break to her the unpleasant fact which would render it impossible for him to fulfill his engagement, and he resolved to excuse himself on the plea of/the opposition which a union with one in her humble positioi of life must encounter from his family. He wrote her a short note, which he hoped might pre- pare her for the object of his proposed visit, and then selected an afternoon which he knew that Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood, with their elder children, were expected to spend at Slowstream Hall. It would be easy to get Sibylfa out of the way: so, informing Sir Richard that he had important buriness, which might detain him some hours in Friarham, he started about the time when he supposed the Hazlewoods to be half-way to Slowstream, and, taking a different road, entered the rectory by the garden gate, making, straight for the school-room, unseen by any of the servants. As he walked up the path, he was rejoiced to see Sibylla on the lawn at full play with t i ISOLINA. 221 two little companions who had come to spend the day with her. He was not wholly unexpected by Isolina, who had received his note and was sitting alone at her piano, for, though he had named no day or hour, she felt sure he would call the first-opportunity; but she had ex- pected him by the usual entrance, and was startled at his appearance from the garden. "Mr. Fanshaw," she exclaimed, rising, " this is not right thus to take me by surprise!" "And why not?" he asked, drawing a chair near her, as she reseated herself. "Is it not right that I should come myself, instead of writing, in answer to your wish for a personal interview? I came tqo obey you; and as whatever has passed between us is held sacred by me, so I trust it is by you, and therefore I came unseen by any one." "But-I have determined," said Isolina, " to acquaint, Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood, as well as my mother, with our engagement, and then write to Lady Campbell. I ought not to have pledged myself without asking her consent; and I am sure that our secret will be safe with them." She blushed at the word our, and looked up in his face for approbation. "Determined I without leave asked or obtained of me, Isolina?" "You must absolve me from this promise. Indeed, you must. Nay, do not suppose I repent of my engage- ment to you. Only-only I ought not to have bound myself without their sanction, and I cannot see you again alone without the permission of Mrs. Hazlewood." "And if you should then oblige me to absolve you from both promises? If I must likewise ask -absolu- tion?" Isolina hastily withdrew the hand he had taken, and looked at him earnestly, as if to read his meaning. "My beloved Isolina," Mr. Fansbaw continued, "dear as you are, as you ever will be, to my heart, fresh dif- ficulties have arisen, which may occasion indefinite delavy "7 "What difficulties What fresh cause of delay?" she asked. 19* , page: 222-223[View Page 222-223]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 222-223 222 ISOLINA. "No other than I feared," he replied. "But I cannot.- blind myself to the dilemma in which my too hasty' declaration has placed me, nor do I think it right to con-' ceal the truth from you."' "Certainly not," said Isolina, trying to appear calm. "You must be aware," continued Mr. Fanshaw, rising, and pacing the room, whilst speaking to himself rather than addressing her,-'"you must be aware that I am peculiarly situated. Though I am not young, my brother is considerably older, and, as he has no son, I am next heir to his title and property: it is, therefore, my duty to consult him before I marry, and he and Lady Fanshaw think a great deal of copnection." "You should have thought of this 'soner, Mr. Fan-, shaw," said Isolina, proudly. "And so I did," he proceeded, as he paused to look at her, who, pale and erect, sat immovable in her chair, whilst her voice sounded harsh and unlike herself. "I thought of it all. It 'was the cause of my long hesita- tion, of my doubts; but your beauty, your charms of mind, still more than of person, hurried me into an act--" "Of which you now heartily repent, Mr. Fanshaw." - You must hear me out, Isolina. I cannot suffer you to judge me severely. I owe it to my family to consider their wishes in so important a matter. They would not allow for my having been carried away by my feelings, as they would for a younger man. If you love me, you l would not expose me to the trial, the persecutions, I should have to undergo. Ought I to take a step which would compromise me with them for life, and not only disturb family harmony and friendships of long standing, but which might entail misery- on you, whose happiness is far dearer to me than my own?" "The pride or prejudice of others would not have stood between me and' you, sir. But why, feeling as you do on this subject,-why did you, then, deliberately lead me into an engagement to which you no sooner have obtained my consent than you wish to withdraw? You have, indeed, released me of my promise." "Do you, then, desire to be released, Isolina?" ISOLINA. 223 ,r Undoubtedly, now,-although it was you, not I, who demanded it." , For the present, perhaps," said Mr. Fanshaw, " we had better, then, both be free." Isolina tried to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion, and she could only bow her head in assent. "Time alone," proceeded Mr. Fanshaw, "can supply a remedy for the unbappiness caused me by your attrac- tions, and which I have caused you and myself by my own imprudence. Meanwhile, for your sake, as well as for mine, Isolina, let what has passed between us re- main, as it now is, unknown to 'all but\ourselves." "You have no right to ask this of me, Mr. Fanshaw," said Isolina. "No right, indeed; but you are generous, and your good sense will, I am sure, convince you it would be wiser. Think over what I have said, and .when next we meet-- "He bent over her, and tried again to take her hand. "Never, sir!" she said, drawing it hastily back. "All between us is now over. I will never see you, never speak to you more." She rose suddenly, and retreated towards the door; but Mr. Fanshaw intercepted her. "Listen to me," he proceeded, "and be calm; only one moment more. I will not detain you long. Isolina, you must forgive me, if you knew the pain it is to me to I inflict pain on you. I have loved you. How I have loved you! and how I love you still 1" "Sir, this is insult added to injury. Let me pass." "If you knew," he continued, and for the moment he was sincere, "how I have repented being hurried by the ardor of my passion to utter words, to give promises I afterwards remembered were not in my power to fulfill, -how I have dreaded this hpr,--how I esteem you superior to any other woman! You do not believe me. Yes, it is true; and if I cannot be to you what I fondly , hoped through so many months, may I not still be your friend?" "Allow me to pass, sir, and do not detain me to listen to language which now I wish I had never listened to page: 224-225[View Page 224-225]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 224-225 a4 ISOLIr NA4. before." Again Isolina tried to reach the door, but again he stood before her. "Are we, then, to part thus? Have you never loved me, never va]ued the friendship which I can still offer you that you can so easily cast me from you? If the word which have passed between us are unknown to all but ourselves, in time they will be forgiven, forgotten even by us, and we may be as we were before the day when Sibylla met with her accident; but in your natural and seemingly just indignation you speak without reflection,: and only think of injuring me. But should what has! happened transpire, you, not I, may be the sufferer,-the condemned in the eyes of the world. This would indeed pain me deeply. I would shelter you; nothing but ne- cessity, be assured , "Necessity, Mr. Fanshbaw l" said the voice of Mr l tIazlewood behind him. "Necessity obliges me to request you to leave this room-this house--immediately!" Mr. Fanshaw looked disconcerted,a rare thing with him,---and, taking up his hat, with one more tender look of remonstrance to Isolina, who turned away her head he moved towards the doori followed by the master of'the house. In a few minutes Mr. Hazlewood returned, and found Isolina where he had ]eft her, standing like a culprit, her head down, and large tears dropping unfelt upon the hand with which she supported herself against the table Stifled sobs came at intervals, and she did not even at-, tempt to speak. "Do not suppose I mean to chide you, my dear," Mr. Hazlewood began. "You have had a severe enough, punishment, God knows, for all the wrong you may have done." He led her to a chair and placed himself in one opposite to her. "Tell me, did you expect this visit?" "He wrote to me he might call; he knew you would be absent." ' "You do not know the man to whom you appear to have given your heart. For what end did he come here?" "To ask me to break a secret engagement ' o which I4 bad foolishy entered a fortnight ago." "When you met him in Farmer Johnson's fields?"7 "Yes, sir." "And did you expect to meet him there?1" "No, -sir." "Why did you not mention this pmeeting on your return?" "Because, as I told you, sir, I had promised secrecy. Oh, I was wrong, very wrong I but Mr. Fanshaw told me there were family reasons for this desire on his part---- "Family fiddlesticks I He had other and better reasons, which, I have no doubt, you will hear in time." "Whatever may be his reasons, believe me, sir, from the moment I gave .the promise he demanded, I have bitterly repented my folly,-my fault,-and I have passed the most miserable fortnight of my life!" "I believe you, Miss Camelli, and I shall endeavor to persuade Mrs. Hazl wood to view your conduct in the light I do. I must, however, request you to give me now your promise that you will have no further inter- course with Mr. Fanshaw, by word or letter, until you have my leave." ' I promise you," said the poor girl, looking in his face with streaming eyes, which touched Mr. Hazle- wood's heart, who could not help muttering to himself the word "villain," as the image of Mr. Fanshaw trium- phant passed before his mind.- He bade Isolina go to her room, and, after calling Sibylla from the garden and sending her to bed, he retired to his library, and sat, with a book open before him, patiently awaiting the return of Mrs. Hazlewood. It was a full- hour before he heard the carriage-wheels, and the next minute his wife opened the library door. "May we come in, my dear?" *"Yes; come in, Maria; but tell the girls to take their things off, and join us in the drawing-room at tea. And, Jemima, do not disturb Miss Oamelli: she is not very well, and has gone to her room."' "Papa, we have had such a delightful afternoon; that charming Mrs. Conway came in after you went away;, K:l page: 226-227[View Page 226-227]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 226-227 226 ISOLINA. only it was so provoking that Mr. Fanshaw had business in Friarham, and had not returned when we left." "Very well; I shall hear all about it by-and-by. Go awav now c The two girls smpered up-stairs, and Mrs. Hazle- wood shut the doobin expectation of a disclosure of importance from her husband, in which she was not dis- appointed. "I dare say you observed that I took rather a sudden departure?" he b'ean. "Indeed we did; and I supposed you were called away by some sick or dying person." "Not at ll. I happened to ask for Tom Fanshaw, when Sir Richard told me he had particular business to- day in Friarham and might not return for a couple of hours. I have had my suspicions ever since I met him in the path leading to Farmer Johnson's fields a fortnight ago, just after I saw Miss Camelli returning from Lufton. I was sure they had been speaking together, but I did riot choose to question her." "And it was Mr. Fanshaw, then?" "It wuas; and it seems that he persuaded Miss Oamelli i to engage herself to marry him, but to keep this a secret from us." "And she consented? After all our kindness to her, too " "You must have patience, Maria, and listen to me. I feared that he had no serious intentions towards her, though I did not suppose he meant to break with her so soon, nor do I now believe he has really broken off entirely, unless other influences have been at work. You have just seen Mrs. Conway?" "Yes, and you know I never can bear her; but she is good-hearted and clever, and has quite fascinated the girls. I should be sorry if they were to see much of her." "In my opinion she is a deep, designing woman, though hardly twenty years of age. She made a great mistake in her first marriage, and she is resolved to keep clear of past errors in her second. I saw that when she was visiting her husband's relations here last year, and I ISOLtLVA. 22.1 could not then approve of her flirtations with Fanshaw. I am told by Sir Richard that he was constantly with her during Conway's illness in Rome, until he was in- formed by his and her friends that people began to com- mnent ill-naturedly on their intimacy. This was th real cause of Fanshaw's leaving Italy as soon as he did, and therefore, when you returned from Wales, I thought Miss Camelli would soon be cured 'of her illusion." "How glad I am that I prevented her corresponding with himl But why did you not inform me of this at once, Mr Hazlewood?" "First, because I had so many other things to think of, and I hoped to hear no more of Fanshaw in connec- tion with Miss Camelli; and secondLy, because I hate gossip."- "And so he ventured to make an appointment with Miss Camelli, and persuaded her to act in an underhand manner towards us?" He did; and bitterly has she repented her consente But the first meeting was by mere chance on her part, at any rate. Nay, Maria, you need not shake your head: we have never had reason to doubt Miss Camelli's word." "And pray when is this happy marriage to take place?" "Not at present, certainly; for, as I told you, he wishes to break with her. I suspected what the business was to-day in Friarham when we were all out of the way, and, as soon as I learned that Mrs. Conway was still staying at Slowstream Hall, I resolved to ascertain the whole truth of how matters stood with Miss Camelli. I took them by surprise in the school-room, Sibylla having been sent into the garden, and I found the poor girl in tears, with Fanshaw pleading necessity for his conduct. He did look thoroughly ashamed of himself, however, /Whilst he beat a speedy retreat, and assured me that he would explain all by-and-by to my satisfaction. I re- turned to Miss Camelli, who confessed to me her engage- ment, and that he had repented, and had come to request her to let him off for the same family reasons which made him desire secrecy." ' K page: 228-229[View Page 228-229]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 228-229 "He is a wretch!" exclaimed Mrs. Hazlewood; " but Miss Camelli has used us very ill." i"She is very young, my dear; but he is old and ex- perienced in the ways of the world. She has had a severe lesson, for I do believe she loves him still." "I told her not to think of him any more; I warned her he would deceive her, and that he meant nothing." "It was not unnatural, Maria, that his professions of love should weigh more with her than your warnings. Remember what a prospect marriage with him, if he should love her truly, and if he were as good as she believes him, holds forth to her." "Very true, Mr. Hazlewood; but I can't forgive her." "Then go to ber; and when you see how unhappy she is, I thilnk you will feel more like a Christian woman towards her." "I would rather not see her until to-morrow." "That would not be acting the mother's part, which she may expect from you." Mrs. Hazlewood did not reply. She went to her room to take off her bonnet; but before she joined the family- party she had been to Isolina, and had carried her a cup of tha with her own hands. "A governess," said Mr. Hazlewood to his wife that evening,-" a governess, as governesses are now re- garded, is the most unprotected person in a household. She is a solitary being, glad to seize on any opportunity to escape frdm drudgery and from a position so trying and so unnatural for a young person. She belongs to no one, and, desiring, therefore, to belong to some one, she falls an easy prey to the unprincipled. Let us, then, think gently of faults which are so speedily followed by their natural punishment." y The following day Mr. Hazlewood met Sir Richard Fanshaw in Friarbam, who, after regretting his early departure the previous day, acquainted him that his brother had been unexpectedly summoned to town. j . CHAPTER XXIII. -a Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary l':O THREE months more passed wearily away, and Isolina exerted herself more than ever to fulfill evey duty towards the children under her care. She strove to be cheerful, and to take an interest in subjects which had become in- dierent to her; her efforts were fully appreciated by Mr. and Mrs. .alewood, and she was rewarded by success, however partial But the strain upon the nervous system told more and more on her delicate frame, and her friends could never look at the hectic color, which came and went on her usually pale cheeks like the tints on the evening sky, or see her feverish eye, and remark her ex- cited manner, without feelings of indignation against the man who had undermined her happiness and her health. Perhaps she suffered more bcause she knew he was still free, and, though she was sure she never would accept the hand of one whose actions were ruled by considera- tions of worldly pride and vanity, a secret voice always whispered that she might have been too hasty in her condemnation, that she had never given hin an oppor- tunity to state all his reasons; that it was possible that he might be aS miserable as herself; that, in short, in some improbable way they might still be reconciled, and all be Well again. And when this thought crossed her mind, she forgave him all the past, and for a little while felt her heart lighter. One morning Mrs. Hazlewood entered her husband's library with an open note in her hand, her face flushed "Read that, Charles! Nay, I will read it to you myself." 20 page: 230-231[View Page 230-231]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 230-231 It was from Lady Hanshaw, and, after some matters of small importance, she asked Mrs. Hazlewood's con- gratulations on the approaching nuptials of her brother. in-law, Mr. Fanshaw, who had come down to Slowstream ttall on purpose to announce his engagement. "The connection," she proceeded to say, " is all we can desire, as the lady is Mrs. Conway, the young widow you have frequently met at our house. Colonel Hervey and Lady Caroline are delighted at the prospect for their daughter; and the difference of age, which at first startled us, can only be an objection to the lady herself. She is at present with us, and she does not seem to consider it a disadvan. tage. This announcement may appear to follow rather rapidly on the death of Mr. Conway; but every one knows that her marriage with him was very unhappy, and that she is left in a very forlorn position. Of course, the mnarriage cannot now take place till next year, but my brother is anxious it should not be delayed longer than necessary, for the sake of mere form, etc." "Very well," said Mr. Hazlewood, who looked up into his wife's face as she read with acountenance of indig- nation exceeding even hers, and now spoke in a tone of most unusual fierceness for him. "Very well, Master Fan- shaw I but I cannot allow this without telling you -a bit Of my mind. He oughtto be exposed. This, as I sus- pected, is the family reason for desiring-to break his en- gagement wlth Miss Camelli. What righthhas he toplay fast-and-loose, as he has done with her?"' " ie shall never -enter this house again 1" exclaimed Mrs. Razlewood. "And that woman, too,-that Mrs. Conway! I always disliked her " "Oh, as for her, I shall have nothing to do with her{ but I cannot in conscience pass over Fanshaw's villainy." "What can you do, Charles?, said Mrs. Hazlewool, looking alarmed. "I shall not fight him, my dear," said Mr. Hazlewood, smiling at her look of terror: " my cloth may assure you of that." Perhaps it is better to let him alone; he is really not worth caring about; and I do not see why, in taking up I UthJVA.. e0 ' Miss Camelli's defense, we should quarrel with the whole family,-old friends." Mr. Hazlewood was consulting his watch. "I have just two hours before dinner. I know I shall catch him at this time, and I shall go at once." "Do consider, my dear, is it wise to make such a fuss about a young person like Miss Camelli? Shall we not be doing her more harm than good?" -'I shall act, Maria, in this case as I should have acted if the fellow had jilted my own child. I consider he has insulted me as a gentleman and a clergyman by conducting himself in this manner towards a young lady under my protection; and he has done worse, in having blighted an innocent girl's happiness and played with her most sacred feelings for his own amusement." Mr. Hazlewood had drawn on his great-coat and gloves whilst he was speaking, and, bidding his wife good-by, he strode'along the road leading to Slowstream Hall. On his arrival he requested to see Mr. Fanshaw alone, and was shown into a small library, where that gentle- man soon joined him, with an air of assumed nonchalance, though he was a little paler than usual. Mr. Hazlewood seated himself in an arm-chair of most judicial gravity, and the culprit, with his back to the fire, waited with impatience for what he had to say. "Fanshaw," Mr. Hazlewood began, "I come here to ask you how it: is that you, who are bound by honor, if not by promise, to marry one lady, are about to conclude a union with another?" "May I ask you, :Hazlewood, by what right you ask me that question? whether you come here of your own accord, or as deputed by the lady whose cause you ad- vocate?" "I come here, sir, of bly own free will, and my right is that paternal right which I consider myself bound to exercise in the interest of a young lady residing under my roof." ^"I do not pretend to be ignorant that the young lady to whom you allude is your children's governess, and I confess that I admire her beauty, her intelligence, her accomplishments. I also confess to having pSid her cer- page: 232-233[View Page 232-233]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 232-233 232 ISOLINA. tain attentions, which she encouraged, and to having carried on an innocent flirtation, which, as soon as I per- ceived the young lady was taking it more seriously than I intended, I took pains to explain to her was not meant to proceed beyond a natural homage paid to her charms; and I trust that the agreeable hours I have spent in her company have left no deeper impression on her heart than they have on mine." "Flirtation I admiration, sir I Did I not with my own eyes and ears see and hear you only three months ago, in a room of my house, standing, confounded in the presence of the girl whose happiness you had injured, pleading necessity to conceal your engagement to her? And if there was no other proof that you had gone further than mere compliments, this note, written a year before, would be sufficient to assure me your attentions had passed the boundaries of mere flirtation." "Miss Oamelli, then, thought," said Mr. Fanshaw, "by preserving a note of mine, written in a careless hour, when I had just been touched by her sensibility at my departure, and by producing it at an opportune moment like the present, to persuade me that I had promised her marriage. I beg, sir, that you will tell her that my en- gagement to another lady will make such an eventuality impossible. ' If I can in any way spare her feelings on the occasion, you may be sure that I shall be happy to do so. Nay, I will go still further: if I can help her to another husband, I will promise to do my best." "Have you no manly feelings, Fanshaw? I did not think you could be so hard, so unprincipled!". "If it were not for old friendship and respect for your character as a clergyman, Hazlewood, I might resent this interfererice in my private affairs, these insults, by desir- ing the servants to show you to the door. But, in reason, my dear fellow, what would you have me do? Do you expect me to break the engagement I have just entered into with a young lady of high connections, and to throw myself at the feet of Miss Camelli, beg pardon for having been foolishy carried away by her fascinations, and offer her love and marriage on the spot?" ISOLINA. 233 "I would have you, at any rate, confess the wrong you have done her.". "I made my apologies when I informed her how im- possible it was for me to marry her. If she paid me the compliment of falling in love with me, I was not to blame; but I could not help being touched by so much beauty and merit, nor could I be expected wholly to reject the advances made to me by so lovely a creature. Encour-- aged by Mrs. Hazlewood's kind permission to spend hours alone in her company (for the children could not count as anybody), I was led on to pay some foolish compliments, which the lady chose to construe according to her own wishes, and to believe meant something serious. I was then a free man, and, I do not deny that I may have gone a little too far. She showed her good sense in refusing to correspond with me, and thus saved me and herself from what might have produced serious inconvenience. On my return from Italy, I saw her one mnorning when I was calling on Mrs. Hazlewood, who, if I remember rightly, herself brought Miss Camelli to the drawing-room to hear about Lady Campbell from me, or on some such pretense. I fell in with the young lady another day when out sporting. She was alone, and she kindly acknowledged to me I had won her heart. I am not a man of hard nature, whatever you may think of me, Hazlewood; I was entrapped into a declaration of love, and a promise of possible marriage at some distant time; and so we parted. I never approached her for a whole fortnight, having repented my folly as soon as I left her, and I then sought an interview only to free myself and her from an embarrassing situation, and try to convince her, as delicately as I could, that my feelings to- wards her were not so warm as she supposed them to be. I found my task more difficult than I expected, for the young lady had fallen so desperately in love with my poor self that she would hardly release me." "Sir, this is cowardly I this is infamous l" said Mr. Hazlewood, rising. "Miss Camelli is too good for you!" "I have no doubt she is," replied Mr. Fanshaw, who became cooler as Mr. Hazlewood was losing his temper. "Yes, sir, she is too good for you. She is an angel 20* , page: 234-235[View Page 234-235]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 234-235 234 ISOLINA. of purity; and though she erred in ever granting. thief promise of secrecy you demanded, it was through ig- norance of the world, ignorance of the character of the man she trusted." "I hope she will survive the disappointment she has brought on herself," continued Mr, Fanshaw. "Have you no touch of human feelings, Fanshaw?" "Not much, in your opinion, Hazlewood, I can per- ceive; whilst Miss Camelli has, I fear, too much." "This is base, sir I Remember that I shall consider it my duty to acquaint Colonel Hervey with your conduct." "Do as you please, sir; but I warn you that it may be the worse for Miss Camelli: for her sake, I should wish the affair hushed up." Mr. Hazlewood paused. ' Fanshaw, you are a bad man ;"Mr. Fanshaw bowed; " and whilst countenanced yT others as worldly-minded and hard as yourself, you may stifle conscience, and justify your conduct to your- self. No, I do not expect to make any impression on Colonel Hervey. You are right there: it would be worse than folly to attempt it. I go home to acquaint that poor girl with your engagement to another; but she is happier in having escaped from marriage with such as you are than those who wake out of their illusion too late. Dis- appointment in your truth, in your honor, in all she con- tinues fondly to believe, in spite of your endeavors to convince her that you are an ordinary man of the world, will be more bitter to her than the termination of what appeared a bright prospect for life. She will recover from this; but you, with your wealth, your connections, and your young and handsome bride, must have a con- science I do not envy. I see you are impatient: I am going; and you may rest assured that you are safe from all further accusations from Miss Camelli or her friends."' Mr. Hazlewood snatched up his hat and left the house, taking the same short cut across the fields by which he had come. He walked straight up to his library, and, after half an hour's reflection, he rang the bell, and desired the servant to request Miss Camelli to speak with him. "Shut the door, my dear," he said, as she entered, "and come here." ISOLINA. 235 \ He pointed to a chair, and she sat down. Her heart beat rapidly, and she turned very pale, for she saw that her sentence was about to be pronounced, though how and what she-did not yet know. r "My dear, I have a painful task before me, but it must be fulfilled. I know that you have kept your promise to me, and neither seen nor corresponded with Mr. Fanshaw since that last interview." Isolina could not reply, for her tongue felt dry and parched. "I trust that your reason has convinced you he was not worthy of you." Still no reply. "I thought him frivolous, vain, worldly, but I did not then tell you that I suspected he had already thought of another woman. Mr. Fanshaw," continued Mr. Hazle- wood, looking at the fireplace, that he might not see Isolina's face,-"Mr. Fanshaw is going to marry Mrs. Conway." "Elgiva?" "Yes, my dear. When you can think calmly, you will be satisfied by this that you have been mistaken in his character,-that he would not have made you happy." Isolina covered her face with her hands, and tried to check the tears which trickled from between her fingers. I should like to go home to my mother," were the first words she spoke. "You shall," said Mr. Hazlewood, rising. "I will send Mrs. Hazlewood to you, my dear, and you may rely on our doing our utmost to support you, and shield you from the ill-natured world. Nothing that we can avoid shall be known beyond these walls." Isolina tried to thank him as he left the room, and Mrs. Hazlewood was the next minute by her side, giving her all the consolation which womanly sympathy and tenderness could give one who felt at that moment as if all happiness had forsaken her. Mr., Fanshaw, meantime, as soon as Mr. Hazlewood had departed, joined Mrs. Conway, who was waiting for him in the drawing-room. "What in the world have you been about all this time?" she exclaimed. "Listening with exemplary patience to a sermon, And now shall we start for our ride?" "What was the subject of the sermon? Mr. Hazle- page: 236-237[View Page 236-237]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 236-237 236 ISOLIyA. ' wood's voice became so loud I could just catch a word now and then, which made me curious to hear more." "That is his way. You have heard him in the pulpit?" 'Yes: you remember--at least I do-that Sunday when we came out of church, when I asked you if you were most attracted by Mr. Ha-zlewood's preaching or by Miss Camelli's pretty face. I saw you looking at her with what I thought too great admiration." "And I acknowledged the regularity of her features, but added that she ought to have been handsomer, had she the advantage of a more fashionable tournure." "For which I made you my best curtsy in- my heart, as I could not make it in a carriage. Now, tell me, what was the subject of to-day's sermon?" "Matrimony." "I wish I had heard it." "I will show you that I have profited by the lesson." CHAPTER XXTV. "We raise a palace through a waste of years, And think its walls are crystal in the sun Of this world's glory, flashing for an hour. We look again, and see it was but ice Which we have dwelt in, thawing fast away: At every burning grasp it melts the more. Blessed be he who leaves the treacherous hope And into heavenly crystal turns the thaw." MUMno. SIR ROGER and Lady Campbell had spent three years on the Continent, and were preparing to return home, when a few lines from Isolina, inclosed in a lengthy epistle from Mrs. Camelli, increased their anxiety to reach England. Immediately after their arrival, Lady Camp- bell hastened to the Pines, and was soon convinced that Isolina's state of health, mental as well as physical, required a complete change of scene and climate. Sir Roger had intended settling down on his property, but, i , l ISOLINA. 2371 for the sake of his wife's adopted child, he agreed to return to Italy for one more winter. It was, however, with some difficulty that Lady Campbell could persuade Mrs. Camelli that this journey was necessary. But, having succeeded, she left Isolina to make her prepara- tions, and accompanied her husband to Scotland, there to remain during the few weeks which were to intervene before their departure. iAs if to prepare Lady Campbell for her future north- ern home, it was at once presented to her in its least agreeable aspect; for the rain poured down all the time she remained at Birkenbrae, and the gray sky imparted additional gloom to the dark color of the rough stone and to the black slates composing the external walls and roofs of the substantial square house, adjoining the ruins of a castellated mansion which had formed the home of the semi-civilized ancestors of Sir Roger Campbell. The situation was as romantic as could be desired: Birken- brae stood on the brow of a wooded dell, with a dashing stream below, the rush of whose waters, rapidly coursing along till carried over a fall of some thirty feet, broke the stillness of night and was the first sound which greeted the ear in the morning. The garden near the house was in disorder, and planted almost to the door with potatoes and turnips; and as the old woman, the sole guardian of Birkenbrae during its master's absence, threw open the rooms and unclosed the shutters to let in as much light as could penetrate the clouds, there was a smell of mildew, which told how long these same rooms had been uninhabited. But beyond the precincts of the garden, the neat cottage and the tidy' school-house, with its quiet, reserved, but intelligent schoolmaster, were also sigons that the proprietor had not been unmindfulf of his own people during his travels abroad. The short time Sir Roger had remained in Scotland- was devoted th sundry matters which concerned their welfare, and he made various arrangements with his worthy factor or j agent for the improvement of the property and the bene- fit of its inhabitants. He likewise introduced his wife to his tenants; and, though she was an "Ehglisher," they soon discovered that she, was ready to join heart and * - page: 238-239[View Page 238-239]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 238-239 238 ISOLINA. hand with her husband in his philanthropic projects, and to admire and enjoy the really beautiful scenery which Sir Roger associated with his boyhood, and inthe midst of which she was destined to find her homrne. "With Isolina here as our daughter, I could be per. fectly happy," she said one morning to Sir Roger, who, standing at the window and reflecting on the gloom with. out, began to fear lest he should be condemning his wife to a life uncongenial to her tastes and habits. "And why not? why should we not both have the en- joyment of her society?" said Sir Roger. "You know how dear she is to me also." "No, it must not be: we never could separate mother and child, and Louisa would be miserable here, even if your patience could tolerate her, and I am not sure that mine could now. She is happiest where she is, unless, her daughter could some day make a home for her in London; and, as our autumns and winters will generally be spent there, I shall always hope to have the pleasure of seeing Isolina a great part of each year. Besides I would not seriously propose to cage up our little ninhtin- gale in this quiet, out-of-the-way place. But if we carrv out our project, I expect that she will make a sensation, as well as a fortune, in the great world." 1" hope it may be for her happiness, my love; but at any rate, she must begin by having a home under our roof." "She must begin by a more thoroughly musical edu- cation than she has yet received, both in Germany and Italy; and she must make her own way by the free de- velopment of the talents nature has given her." Sir Roger and Lady Campbell left Scotland at the time appointed, to start upon their new tour; and when the pang of parting from her mother, for' a greater distance than she had yet known, was over, Isolina, with the happy buoyancy of youth, seemed to begin a new life. The interest of landing on the Continent, the sensation of breathing a lighter, purer air, the warmth and the bright- ness of the sun, which produces that sharplyv-defined out- line of the most distant object and the brilliant coloring so striking to English eyes, the loud voices'and quick- ISOLINA. 239 cheerful jabber of a foreign tongue, the good-humored vivacity- of the people, all the strange sights, sounds, and even smells, which meet the traveler arriving at Calais, occupied ./attention too exclusively to leave room for sad or unsy memories. Hurried on from one'i t new object to another, her mind was completely exhausted,- and her weary eyes were ready for sleep the tioment her head was laid on her pillow in a luxurious bed of a lux- urious Parisian hotel. Lady Campbell had the pleasure of seeing Isolina's natural color gradually return, and the languor she had shown when in England was succeeded by active interest in everything around her. Her desire to improve her musical talents revived, and even increased; and after a couple of months' study at Paris, her friends proceeded with her to Vienna, where they passed a still longer time. In the month of February the travelers crossed the Semmering Pass and hastened south to omrne, where they remained until the end of April, and where Isolina divided her time between her studies and visiting objects of art and antiquity. Here she had the pleasure of meeting again with Alice, and accompanying her several times in visits to the Vatican They were- never, however, without other friends, as the Duchess of Pedantmere's time at Rome was much engrossed by society. There were morning parties to Frascati or Tivoli, balls, dinners, visits to cardinals or ambassadors, and the hours spent in listening to her husband's disquisitions on vexed questions of antiquaries' lore, when she bad at least to set the example of a respectful auditor: she had thus little leisure to spare for Isolina. It was her second winter in Rome, though she had been home in the interval to visit her two eldest children,-her youngest, her only boy, accompanying them. She longed to talk with her old friend about her girls, as she cherished a hope that she might persuade her to consent to be their governess, rather than seek fame and fortune in the doubt- ful career of a public singer. No opportunity, however, occurred for her to begin the subject, and the Campbells left\ Rome before the Duke of Pedantmere could tear himnelf from the society of learned churchmen and other dilettanti. ( T;Pr page: 240-241[View Page 240-241]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 240-241 240 ISOLINA. About the end of April, Isolina found herself in Flor. ence. If external objects can change our thoughts, and, with them, the current of our lives, no scenery surely is more formed to restore a calm and happy state of mind than that of Florence. Other places may boast of grander features, of -a warmer or more equable climate, but none can excel the Flower of Cities in that combination of treasures of art with natural beauties, whose loveliness touches the heart rather than excites the imagination. What can be more delightful than to rest on some grassy bank or slope, indulging in reflections of the past or future, whilst gazing on a prosperous and beautiful country in the pleasant spring-time of the year, with no fear of cold or of rheumatism to remind us the grass is damp or to oblige us to hasten home before sunset?-thus, as it were, to make a pause in our lives, before we prepare to start anew? Lady Campbell loved Florence, for here she had spent two happy years with her father, and she loved to talk with her husband and Isolina of him, and of days which she so fondly cherished in her memory. One afternoon they selected as their resting-place a seat near the hollow trunk of an old ilex, on the green meadow beside the monastery of San Francesco, below San - Miniato, the "Bella Villanella"' of Michael Angelo, whose tall cy- presses cast their shadows on the ground. One of the most beautiful views in the neighborhood of Florence lay below the travelers,-where is just the right mixture of gray olive, ilex, and dark cypress. Following the bold yet graceful outline of the Apennines, which border the plain, the eye is conducted past Prato and Pistoia on one side, and towards Signa and the gorge through whose opening lies the roa3 to Pisa on the other; wide valleys branch off in every direction, leading to lovely scenery beyond. Close beneath, nestling below hills crowned with monasteries or cheerful villas, the city-with her calyx-shaped cupola, her spires and towers--reminds the spectator of days when Europe was still under the thrall of feudal chiefs, and Florence attained her greatness as the champion of commercial and intellectual progress as well as of political freedom. Genius then flourished within her walls under the patronage of her wool-mer- ISOLINA. . 241 chants and stocking-weavers,-genius, which has made her fame as eternal as the blue of her skies and as the soft light of her moon and stars, arraying her in all her glory, then, as now. Lady Campbell and Isolina were busily engaged with their pencils and sketch-books, whilst Sir Roger read aloud a book of poetry, occasionally inter- rupted by conversation suggested by the scene before them, and by the recollection of Lady Campbell's former visit. "How happy those must be who are born in a country and a climate like this!" sighed Isolina, as she finished her drawing. "Yes," observed Sir Roger, smiling, "if those happy beings are likewise provided with good government, good food, good clothing, and the means of cultivating those powers of enjoyment which it has taken you years of study to acquire." ' - "Let us suppose them provided with all these," said Lady Campbell, "I and think how pleasant it would be to have been born a Florentine." "As you please; but, though I beg leave to maintain that my delight in this beautiful country is as great as yours, I prefer having been born a Scotchman." "Scotch or Florentine, English or Italian," continued Lady Campbell, " we are, after all, only passing travelers for some few years of our existence on this earth: so we may surely have our preference of, one dwelling-place over another, and we may envy our neighbors just a little, if they are better lodged than we ourselves." "But I am of opinion that one human being is not better lodged than another, and that every country has its peculiar beauty." "Oh, Sir Roger!" exclaimed Isolina. "Then, according to you a, desert or a swamp, the snows of Greenland or the burning sands of Africa, are as pleasant to look upon, as delightful, as the scene before us 1" "Well, not quite. You put it strongly, Isolina. But I have seen mountain and plain in my native country which have pleased me as much; and I am quite sure that, with a happy home within, any place can be made pleasant, -even my mist-covered woods and glen, and my dreary -old stone house." I - 21 1 1 page: 242-243[View Page 242-243]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 242-243 242 ISOLINA. We will not dispute the point," said Lady Campbell, laughing; " but we will grant you that the Scotch climate is as fine as the Italian, turnips as ornamental as vines, and the architecture of Glasgow and Edinburgh equal to that of Rome and Florence. Are you vexed, my love?" she asked, changing her tone, as she saw her husband's face continue grave. "I was only jesting; but you are as touchy as any of your countrymen on the subject of Scot- land, which makes me sometimes think you have a bad cause to defend, or you would take it more philosophb ically." "I was not thinking of the superioitv or inferiority of rhy country, Ellinor: I was thinking of my wife;-if she, who has lived so long in a land and climate like this, could be happy, banished for half the year, sometimes for a whole year at a time, to my northern home, which I wish her to love, and not to live there only as a duty to me! "I certainly did not see it to advantage when I was at Bhginbrae last year," said Lady Campbell, shaking her head, whilst a smile played about the corners of her mouth; " but I have faith enough to believe what you tell me, and to suppose that it does not always rain there. Isolina, shall we some day try it together? If the country is wilder, more rugged and bare, than this, it has its mountains, ever varying with cloud and sunshine (though rather too little of the latter); the carpet of heather, so elastic to the feet; the sweet smell of broom or furze; the light air, which makes walking a real pleas- ure; and then, when we return home rather cold and a little damp."-she looked at Sir Roger to see how he bore the allusion.-" to find one's self in a comfortable room, with luxurious chairs and sofas, a good library, and a roaring fire of wood and coal, with, above all, a com- panion who likes to talk of his Italian travels, and will patiently listen to, and even join in, our raptures over the superior charms of Italy,-all this makes even Scotland tolerable." She insisted on her husband now looking in her face; and the smile of affection as well as amusement with which he met her eyes, satisfied his wife that she was forgiven. ISOLI NA. 243 Just then voices, unmistakably English,-not an un- usual sound in Florence,--were heard approaching the spot where the three travelers were seated. Isolina was sure she could not be mistaken in one, and the next moment she ran forward to meet Alice. "By what happy chance are you here, Isolina?" asked the Duchess of Pedantmere. Then, perceiving Sir Roger and Lady Campbell, the exclamations and greetings on both sides were renewed. "I think," continued Alice, "my friends are all known to you, Lady Campbell, and some of them to Isolina. Here is Mr. Bryant, who has kindly volunteered to be our guide in Florence, and Mr. and Miss Tierney, and Mr. Hervey, with his sister; and then," she said, turning to look back at the lane leading to San Miniato, "there are Captain Mowbray and the duke. We have all been visiting that exquisite little church. I never saw anything to equal the marble tracery-work; but no doubt you have seen it often." The pleasure of the meeting was mutual, especially between the aunt and nephew. Mr. and Miss Tierney (the Mabel Tierney whom Isolina recollected at Mrs. Hazlei wood's and at Lady Fanshaw's) had been all the winter in Rome, but Beatrice Hervey and her brother were return- ing from a rapid journey as far as Naples, whilst Captain Mowbray had left his ship at Leghorn for a three weeks' holiday: he had not been aware that his aunt was in Flor- ence, and by chance had found himself in the same hotel with the Duke and Duchess of Pedantmere. Both Captain Mowbray and Alice had been glad to get over the awkward- ness of a first meeting after the lapse of years, and the duke had welcomed his old schoolfellow with as much cor- diality as lay in his nature: he invited him to join in their round of sight-seeing in Florence, for which Mr. Bryant had offered himself as their guide. Mr. Bryant had sev- eral years before been appointed chaplain to the British Legation at the Court of Tuscany, and he had not seen Isolina since a child, when his kind assistance had helped to establish Mrs. Camelli in her home. He had been ab- sent from Florence when Sir Roger and Lady Campbell arrived, and it was therefore the first time they had met. As the duke and-duchess and their friends offered to 1 I page: 244-245[View Page 244-245]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 244-245 244 ISOLINA. return with the Campbells to San Miniato, Mr. Bryant presented his arm to Isolina, whilst Sir Roger escorted Alice; and Lady Campbell, with the rest of the party, led the way up the short ascent past the ruins of Mi- chael Angelo's fortifications, until they stood on the steps o of the church. Their talking and merry laughter ceased as they trod the old mosaic pavement strewed with flowers, among which they had to step cautiously, each wreath or vase marking a spot where lay the remains of those whose friends had left these touching memorials that their love was ever fresh. The- scent from roses, mingling with the faint sepulchral smells of this splendid charnel-house, was almost overpowering, whilst the beau- tiful marble-work and the crumbling fresco-painting on the walls alike marked an epoch in the history of the past,-a monument of departed genius,-appearing at once to symbolize the decay of the types of greatness and beauty, and unite-the spirits on earth with those in heaven by the immortality of their sympathies and affections. The English party in search of amusement passed into the open air with a more solemn feeling than they had entered the building. Silent'and grave, they stood a few minutes leaning over the low broken- parapet above the olives, watching the fading light of evening and the stars coming out one by one, or looking down on the long and serpentine line of the lamps on either side of the Arno. "What news have you from home? asked Captain Mowbray at last of Isolina; for, after his first hearty greeting, he had not been able until now again toApproach her, having been wholly engrossed by Miss #ervWy. "How is. your mother? I dare say your letters are of a later date than mine," he continued. - "She is quite well, thank you, and I can perhaps tell you something of Lord and Lady Elton. Mamma writes to me that they have been spending a very quiet winter at the Pines,-thlat Lady Elton has been very active among the poor, and that she has established a sewing- club in the village. But perhaps you do not care for these things?!" "Oh, yes, I do; I like to hear of my mother's good works." ISOLINA. 24i "Then Dr. Hill has had the scarlet fever, which has caused a great sensation in the town; but he has quite recovered, I am happy to say. But, though the fever has now disappeared, Mr. Carr, my mother's cousin, has died of it, leaving a large family. Indeed, there has been quite a mortality in the place; and I should be very uneasy about mamma did she not assure me that she never goes into Woodford." "tI trust you have no cause for alarm, especially if your last account gave a clean bill of health. But how your mother must miss you 1" - "Yes, indeed. Though I have been so much away from her lately, I was always within reach. I think the dis- tance I am now from her makes my absence harder for her to bear, and, -much as I have enjoyed the journey, I shall be glad to be at home again." "I shall give a good report of you,": said Captain Mowhrav, " as I am writing to-my mother. I am. very glad to have this sight of you, for it seems very long since we last met." "It is very long too since we met, Miss Camelli," said Beatrice Hervey, who, after her first recognition of Iso- lina, had not again addressed her, but who, for the last five minutes, had watched with some impatience her col- loquy with Captain Mowbray. "Pardon me," she con- tinued, turning to Mr. Bryant, who was attempting to draw Isolina's attention to the view before them," par- don\me for interrupting you,-Miss Camelli and I are old acquaintances." "You cannot claim so old a friendship as mine," said Mr. Bryant. "I remember her first as a very small girl with large, shy eyes, and when her only playmate was a shaggy dog of the Roman shepherd breed.- Am I not right? Is he still alive?" "Oh, no. Poor old fellowl he died last year, and mamma has a little terrier instead. I know that I missed him more than I should many a human friend." "What I poor old Lupo dead! my playmate too I I don't wonder at your missing him," said Captain Mow- bray. "Are Sir Roger and Lady Campbell staying long in 21* page: 246-247[View Page 246-247]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 246-247 246 ISOLINA. Florence?" ask'ed Beatrice, whilst surveying the view through her opera-glass. "About three, weeks more," answered Isolina. "Did you meet my sister Mrs. Fanshaw, when you were in Rome?" "No," said Isolina, blushing involuntarily and feeling uncertain if Beatrice had heard anything of her story. "I always wonder,"' Miss Hervey observed, " that Mr. Fanshaw should-be so fond of going abroad: he has seen-everything now, I should think; and, really, when Rome and Naples and Florence are done, one is glad to get back to one's own fireside. I cannot, for my part, get up any more raptures about Italian scenery, Raffaelle, or Michael Angelo." This was said at Mr. Bryant, whom Beatrice thought prosy in his enthusiasm,-a fault for which she had a particular aversion. Isolina turned away her head rather angrily. "Lady Campbell quite amuses me," Beatrice continued, lowering her voice, so as not to reach the ears of her who was the subject of her comments. "She is as ardent as at eighteen." "She, indeed, retains the freshness of her youth," said Mr. Bryant, "and I do not see why we. should not all follow her example. It is in our own power." Beatrice shrugged her shoulders with a smile, half in irony, half in pity of the innocent old man. "It is getting quite chilly standing here," she pro- ceeded; and, turning to her brother, she, added, "I think we had better be moving, Arthur. Don't you think it dangerous to be out just after sunset here, Captain Mow- bray?" "I cannot say I have thought at all about it; but may I offer you my arm?" he replied. Then, addressing Lady Campbell, he added, "I am to see you very fre- quently whilst here, my dear aunt?" "'To be sure; every day, I hope." "And, Miss Camelli, you are with my aunt, of course?" "Yes, and I have no doubt," continued Lady Camp- bell, "we shall meet in the Galleries, where we spend most of our mornings." / ISOLINA. 247 "' No more accidental meetings, Miss Camelli?" whis- pered Beatrice to Isolina, laughing. Isolina did not answer, and the three, after bidding good-by to the rest of the party, descended the hill to the carriages which were waiting at the foot of the paved ascent to San Francesco. Alice requested Isolina to spend that evening with her. Her husband was engaged to accompany Captain Mowbray to the opera, and, as she was tired and had determined to pass a few hours quietly. at home, she hoped to enjoy them alone with her friend. Lady Camp- bell gave leave, and Isolina looked forward with real pleasure to a conversation over past days, when they could recall many an incident of their childhood, which, however trivial, had had an influence- in their after-lives. It was, therefore, no little disappointment when, soon after her arrival,-Mabel Tierney was announced. The conversation necessarily became of a general nature, and sights in Rome,. the opera, and the adventures during their journeys, which at any other time would have amused Isolina, tried her patience now severely. There was, however, a fourth person present, who, at any rate, b even had Mabel been absent, would have effectually pre- vented'all open converse between the friends. This was the duchess's lady's-maid and attendant on her child, who, when not moving backwards and forwards, in and out, between. the rooms, sat with her needlework in "a window of the, adjoining apartment. From the first glance, Isolina took a dislike to this woman, Villiers by name. She was a slight, pale-complexioned, middle-sized person, about thirty years of age, with a soft, catlike step, a quiet, reserved manner, and those passive features which seem incapable of expressing any emotion. Though extremely deferential in her manner, it was not difficult to perceive that she ruled rather than was ruled by Alice, who only showed -her rebellion against her authority by exhibiting a petulance towards Mrs. Villiers which she displayed towards no one else, even though the sub- ject in dispute was only the color of a ribbon; but the duchess never failed in the end to yield her opinion to the maid. S t page: 248-249[View Page 248-249]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 248-249 I$OLINA. Isolina was almost glad when the carriage came for her at eleven, and she then listened with real pleasure to Mabel Tierney's innocent remarks on foreign men and manners as they drove together to their hotel. Alice had expressed a hope that they should meet on the morrow; but the morrow brought other engagements, and Isolina was only partially consoled by perceiving that the duchess was as much disappointed as herself. Though they met daily, it was always in the presence of others, and they began to despair of ever having another pleasant tete-a-tete. CHAPTER XXV. "Oft is an upright heart the surest guide, Surer and better than the subtlest head; Still with its silent counsels through the dark Onward and onward leading." ROGERS. ISOLINA was disappointed. Yet Alice had met her in the same affectionate manner with which she had'always greeted her when both were children, and her gentle char- acter was unchanged. Until the heiress was eighteen, the influence of Lady Campbell's example, rather than her precepts, had counteracted the worldlj lessons of her mother, but from that time all intercourse had ceased between them. Married to a husband whom she vainly strove to love, his cold, conventional character and strict rules of propriety were so uncongenial to the nature of his young wife that her warmth and enthusiasm had been chilled; and in the midst of a fashionable society, where she frequently heard sentiments revolting to her ideas of right, she was obliged to seek refuge in silence, unless she had resolved to be a martyr to her principles, and create enemies where she wished for friends. More than once she had been deceived into admitting the inti- macy of persons who pretended to sympathize with her ideas, but who were only paying court to her rank or wealth, and when their aim was discovered the friend- ship dropped; but she thus unconsciously gave cause for accusations of-levity, where her fault proceeded from ignorance of wrong,-and of fickleness, when she only acted upon a discovery of the real characterwwhich time or accident had unmasked. Right and wrong began to be confused in her mind; it was, therefore, only when' with her children, and her old nurse Dawson, that she felt she could breathe freely, and she clung to their society as if they alone could preserve her from evil. The only child Alice had been allowed to take with her abroad was her youngest, a boy, born when she was last in England, and who, with his nurse, was placed under the superintendence of Mrs. Villiers. The duke was delighted with the birth of a son and heir, but did not choose that the duchess should resign the duties of her position in society for attendance in the nursery. He had entire reliance on the capacity, as well as the trustworthy character, of Mrs. Villiers, who had been recommended by his sister, Lady Emmeline, and who was herself a widow-and had been a mother. With a nurse and a footman, besides Mrs. Villiers, in waiting wherever he was carried, the little Marquis of Castleton was supposed to be in safe keeping and started in life in a manner befitting his exalted rank. Under the restraint imposed on Alice by her husband, she became dependent on the good will of her maid, and she longed the more for an educated friend, to whom she might turn at all times. The enjoyment of her visit to Florence had been diminished as much by seeing so little of Isolina, as by seeing so much of George Mowbray, whom the duke made his daily companion. Captain Mowbray accepted his frequent invitations, less from the pleasure he de- rived in the renewal of intercourse with a-former school. fellow, whom he had never liked, than from the desire to see more of the duchess. Alice was fully aware of the 'designing character of her husband, as well as of the simple nature of George Mowbray, however that nature had been moulded and disciplined by past experience. She saw that the duke wished to probe both their hearts, and to satisfy his jealous temper that there no longer existed L* page: 250-251[View Page 250-251]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 250-251 ISOLINA. any affection between them. Hard, cold, and self-seek- ing, he, nevertheless, loved his wife passionately, and could not endure that any image but his own should rest in her heart. Alice also felt that the lynx eyes of Mrs. Villiers were perpetually upon her, and she re- solved, if she could not avoid the visits cf one who might again shake her husband's confidence and disturb her own peace of mind, to shield herself by leading her former lover to turn his thoughts to another. She at first believed him to be attracted by Beatrice Hervey, who had flattered him by her attentions, whilst amusing him with her vivacity; but Alice knew him too well to suppose that a fashionable woman of the world could long lead him captive, and she did not despair that the brotherly kindness he invariably showed Isolina might be converted into a warmer feeling. It never occurred to her that one she had so long regarded as a friend, and who was Lady Campbell's adopted daughter, could be unwelcome to Lord and Lady Elton as the wife of their youngest son. Alice knew enough of the world to understand that as a governess Isolina would not gen- erally be considered an eligible match/for the scion of a noble house; but she believed in exceptions to this rule, and she thought that her beautiful friend, so much caressed as she had always been by Lord and Lady Elton, would, at any rate, be considered by them worthy, by her accomplishments, grace, and virtue, of any one who could be found worthy of her. Two days before the Duke of Pedantmere proposed to leave Florence, he consented to invite a party for an ex- cursion to Fiesole. Sir Roger and Lady Campbell had promised to take Mabel Tierney and her father to Petraia, a palace belonging at that time to the grand duke, and to see which they had obtained a special order, which, however, admitted only four persons. Isolina gladly accepted Alice's invitation to drive with her, and they started somewhat earlier -than the rest of the party, in order to take a sketch from a field below the last steep ascent. According to the arrangement made by the duke, Beatrice Hervey and the gentlemen of the party were to ride up and join them an hour later. ISOLINA. 251 "When do you think you will be in England, Iso- lina?" asked the duchess, as they were driving slowly up the long hill. "I believe next month. Perhaps before the end of June." "And how am I ever to see you? I am resolved that no such long interval shall again pass without our meeting. I would ask you to spend the summer with us at the castle, but 'I know you will not leave your mother immediately on your return; and when you do leave her, I fear you will not think it right to idle your time with me. Now, tell me what you really propose doing, and where you mean to live." "I shall first, as you suppose, return to mamma. I do not think that I shall leave her again all the summer. We shall both be unwilling to part after so long a separation." "But what are your future plans, if I may be allowed to ask? You will not surely again become a governess?" "That depends principally on Lady Campbell and on mamma." "If such should be your destination, dear Isolina, come to me,--if not as a visitor, as I should gladly re- ceive you, as the governess of my little girls. Dearest Isolina\ I would give you a home; you should be my companon and friend, and for my children you would be invaluable." "I would rather be governess to your children than to any other, rather live with you than with any one else except mamma or Lady Campbell; but I believe Lady Campbell has other schemes for me, which will -enable me always to have. mamma with me, and, if I have courage and ability, would offer me a more agreeable life than that I have hitherto led." "For your sake, then, I ought to rejoice," said Alice, in a tone of disappointment. "But, at any rate, you must come and pay me a long visit, and get acquainted with my children. They must learn to love you. At one time I flattered myself that you would live with me, and that your influence might have kept them pure and innocent. How I dread for them the time when they must know the wickedness of the world 1" page: 252-253[View Page 252-253]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 252-253 252 ISOLINA. "My dear duchess " "Call me Alice; when we are alone, at any rate. I lik it." And her eyes filled with tears. "It makes me feel like old innocent days again. Not that I have any great sin with which to reproach myself," she added, smiling; ' but I have learned to know how bad the world is, and the taint, the corruption, of our nature." "If we live in the world," said Isolina, " of course we must know that much evil exists; we ought not to shut' our eyes against the truth, however unpleasant. But my life has been so retired before I became a governess; and during the two years I passed at Mrs. Hazlewood's, I am sure I never saw or heard anything that was not pure and good." "Yet it was there that you learned how bad men can be. Lady Campbell told me how shamefully you were treated. My only comfort is that you lad really a great escape." "I have gained some experience," said Isolina, blush- ing. "It was partly my own fault, partly my ignorance of the world, which made me suffer as I did. I can now think calmly, and even speak of it to you, as I never thought I could again have spoken. I have had my trials, and I do not think there are many harder than those to which a governess is exposed; but I have re- ceived such proofs of kindness, of truth, of goodness, that I have rather learned- to love human nature more, than less." "And Mr. Fanshaw?" asked Alice, with an incredu- lous look. "I do not think so ill of him now," said Isolina, raising her clear, monest eyes to her friend. "He acted wrongly, very wrongly; but I was foolish, and I hope never to see him again. If I do, I will try to meet him with com- posure, as I know I have done nothing of which to be really ashamed. I have quite ceased to care for him, and therefore it is easier for me to forgive him." "You will be more on your guard now, at least, with him." "Of course, as he is married, there is no further danger," replied Isolina. Why do you smile, Alice? ISOLINA. 253 You think I am too lenient. No, I cannot justify or even excuse his conduct towards me, but I am sure he did love me once; in all his conversation he showed himself at one time so right-minded, as well as so clever, that I might well have esteemed him as I did. It was only the low tone of the fashionable society he had lived in which placed me, with him, in a false position, and I therefore think that society was more to blame than he." "And, as we can't reform society, we must accept its decrees, however wrong or injurious?" ".Surely, as all society is composed of men and women who profess to be Christians, they will, when they are con- vinced that they are acting unjustly and giving needless pain, try to act more to others as they would be done by." "For Heaven's sake, dear Isolina, don't talk so like Emmeline, that pious sister-in-law of mine, who makes me feel quite wicked whenever she opens her mouth and comes down upon me with her sermons. Let us talk of the children. You once saw Margaret,-my little Madge: is she not pretty?" "She was very lovely," said Isolina, in an absent manner, .for she felt pain, because Alice did not seem to understand her as formerly. "Julia, my second, is a little angel; and is not my boy a darling? I have been so much happier, too, since his birth." I Q"He must indeed be a great additional blessing," said Isolina. "Not only that, poor pet I but the duke was anxious for an heir: so that when poor Julia was born I thought he never would have forgiven me." "How you must long to return to your little girls!" I i "I shall, indeed, be very glad to get home. It was not for my own pleasure, I assure you, that I came abroad. *v I left them in dear old Dawson's charge. You remember Dawson, don't you?" "That I do." "She will like to hear about you again." "And Mrs. Herbert,-where is she now?" asked Isolina. "She is entertaining some friends at Ravenscombe, I 22 page: 254-255[View Page 254-255]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 254-255 254: ISOLINA. believe. She is very well;,-poor dear mamma! But here we must get out." The friends left the carriage together,/ and, turning off from the road into a narrow pathway with hedges on either side, covered with thousands of, blossoms of the double China rose, they opened a gate, and asked leave of the peasant who farmed the podere, or estate, to take l a sketch from his field. - Their request met with the usual courteous reply: chairs were brought out for their accom- modation, the dogs, which were eyeing the strangers , with no friendly expression, were called off, and the little children who had collected to stare were sent to gather large nosegays of wild flowers, and, as soon as they were presented, the ladies were left in peace. Alice bade her courier, who bad accompanied them, return to the car- riages, and for some time they continued drawing in silence. Once, however, when Isolina looked up, she fancied she saw a tear fall on her companion's sketch, which was hastily brushed awav. "Are you not well, Alice?'" she asked. "Yes, thank you; only a little nervous this morning. Perhaps I was over-fatigued sitting up late last night, at Prince C 's ball," There was another pause of about five minutes, when Alice spoke again. "Do you not often wish, Isolina, you could go back to davs long gone by?" "No; not unless when I have been very unhappy; and if we could, we should have to live all our lives over again, and few of us perhaps would wish that." "Oh, no, no; unless we have the power to alter them, to make them purer, better. Yet there are sins we cannot help, Isolina,--sins of thought, of feeling." "If we cannot help them, they are not sins," said Iso- lina. "I do not know what you mean." "No, of course vou do not. I am, perhaps, too morbid. I do not think my mother understood my faults of char- acter, or she would have trained me better; few do understand children, few can read their hearts. I am sure mamma did her best, as I shall do with my children, and, no doubt, make my mistakes too. Do vou know I see mamma so seldom now, and that often makes me un- I rISOLINA. 255 happy? I cannot persuade her to come to Forestmere at quiet times, and the rest of the year we are so full of engagements; then the duke finds Ravenscombe dull, so we hardly ever go there. Isolina, you must think it strange, when you ask after my mother, that I can tell you so little about her. She is a bad correspondent, too." There was again a pause, but Isolina made no obser- vation. "Then," continued Aliee, in an apologetic tone, "mamma does not like Villiers; and as the duke has great confidence in her, and she keeps constant watch over my boy's nurse, besides making herself useful in many ways to me, and as she is recommended by Lady Enmimeline, she is a valuable person, though I cannot say that I shall ever like her. Dawson is entirely occupied with the other children. She can't bear Villiers, any more than mamma; but it is quite natural she should be a little jealous,-though, if she could read my heart, she would be satisfied she has no cause. But mamma should not interfere in my household: it irritates the duke. Only yesterday I had another letter from her on the sub- ject. You never saw my sister-in-law, did you 7?" "Lady Emmeline? No, never." "She is one of poor mamma's annoyances, and she is as hostile to DRawson as mamma is to Villiers, and-wants me to turn her away ;- but that I will not. Emmeline likes her own way, and so do I, I suppose; but she is, however, a very superior person. If you should ever come to me, you must make friends with her. She has been a spoiled child, and she says I have been the same; but she is really fifty times better than Imam: she is always visiting the poor, and doing kind things, assisted by our clergyman, Mr. Sherbrooke, who is a most be- nevolent man. Everybodv likes him, except mamma; she does'not like any one Emmeline likes. She and Em- meline quite quarreled on the subject the last time they met at Forestmere. But I am giving you a whole history of family grievances. You must forgive it, it is so sel- dom I have any one to whom I can speak openly. Men do not like to be plagued by such things, so I never open my lips on them to the duke when it can be avoided. Poor mamma 1 she does not know how' really good Em- page: 256-257[View Page 256-257]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 256-257 256 ISOLINA. meline is, though, and how she excuses fifty little things in mamma when she is absent. She is very clever, too, and understands Latin and Greek and mathematics, and is able to help the duke, when I am so stupid. I wish I were half as good and clever as Emmeline; though she is rather provoking at times." Ever since Alice had spoken of her sins, Isolina's mind had somehow or other traveled back over the past life of her friend, without finding anything of which to accuse her, until she came to a stand-still at George Mowbray: she therefore startled Alice by suddenly asking her,-- - "How was it that you did not meet Captain Mowbray in Rome? He told me his ship was for some time off Civita Vecchia, and that he made a run up to Rome in the hope of seeing you." "Because we were -absent on an excursion to Naples," said Alice, bending her head more closely over her draw- ing. And after a minute she added, "I know your thoughts; but do not suspect me of anything so wicked. I did love George Mowbray, and therefore, speaking of him to you, Who know all the past, I may blush; but," she said, qaising her head and turning to Isolina,-"but that is lbng ago. I ceased to love him when he showed how indifferent he was to -me by marrying another; and if not wholly then, I have ceased to think of him but as a common acquaintance ever since I became a wife. It is not that sin with which I reproach myself." "I did not mean----My dear Alice, what a horrible idea-i You could not suppose that I should think such things of you?"She spoke sincerely, for she had only thought Alice might have had to struggle against a linger- ing affection when George married; and even this idea had hardly been sufficiently clear to her own mind to suggest the absolute wrong of loving any other than her husband. The sound of approaching steps and voices interrupted their conversation, and the duke, Captain Mowbray, Mr. Bryant, Beatrice, and Mr. Hervey, guided by the courier, having left their horses with the carriage, joined Alice and Isolina. They proposed at once beginning the ascent leading to the old Etruscan city, and .thence to the Fran IS'OLINA. 257 ciscan monastery which crowns the summit of the hill. It was already late, and further delay might oblige them to break their engagement to meet the Campbells on their return from Petraia that evening. "I am rejoiced to have found you, ladies, at last," said the duke, formally. "Your Grace has nrot been expedi- tious." He took up his wife's sketch-book, and, offering her his arm, continued, "Why had you not any of your servants with you, Alice?" "I sent Pierre back to the carriage." "I am afraid, then, that he neglected or misunderstood your order to return. You might have been exposed to some annoyance, thus unprotected." "Oh, not the least here: the people are so civil. I told him to leave us,-we wished to be alone." The 'duke was about to speak again, when Beatrice Hervey exclaimed, "Look 'here, Captain Mowbray, is not this clever? You are a judge of drawing, which I am not, but I should say this is an admirable sketch." She took up Isolina's drawing-book as she added, "Miss Ca- melli had always so much talent." "Upon my word," said Mr. Bryant, fixing his eyeglass astride upon his nose, as he was very short-sighted, and carefully inspecting line after line whilst comparing them with the prospect, " extremely clever I But do you not think you have exaggerated Brunelleschi's cupola? Is it so oval?" "I beg your pardon, Mr.,Bryatnt," interposed Captain Mowbray; "I should say it is perfect. I have drawn it several times lately, and I know how difficult it is to hit on the exact proportions; but this is most successful." "Shall we proceed, Miss Hervey t" asked the duke; but tlis suggestion was unheard, whilst Beatrice and the rest of the party had their attention divided between admiration of the view and criticising Isolina's drawing. "Shall we proceed, gentlemen?" he repeated, in a tone which implied that he was not accustomed to speak with- out being listened to. "I hope that -Miss Camelli has completed her sketch to her satisfaction. Pray do not hurry yourself," he continued: "I shall always be happy to wait for a lady." 22* 1 page: 258-259[View Page 258-259]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 258-259 258 ISOLINA. * {( Isolina gathered up her drawring-materials in haste, assisted by Captain Mowbray, who perceived that, her hurry only occasioned more delay "Perhaps," said the duke, "we had better commence the ascent. Take your time, Miss Camelli; Captain Mow- bray will, I am sure, be happy to take charge of you; and, Mr. Hervey, you will perhaps also remain to look after the young lady?"The duke never forgot proprie- ties. Mr. Bryant, will you give your arm to Miss Hervey?" A very perceptible shade of displeasure passed over Beatrice's countenance, but she accepted the proffered arm. "I wish it had been a younger and stronger one," said Mr. Bryant, gallantly, as he read her thoughts. "They will soon pick us-up." \ Alice too saw that Beatrice was vexed, and wished to propose that she should be left-with Isolina; but the duke never liked interference with his arrangements. There seemed to exist a tacit understanding between him and the duchess in this respect. Was she afraid of: him? Something very like it; yet he was seldom if ever angry, and he was never heard to utter a word which did not denote the utmost deference to her will. There was, however, something in those round, unwinking eyes, those thin, compressed lips, and that deliberate voice, some- thing even in the well-dressed, upright wooden figure, which seemed to inspire awe, if not reverence, in all around him, but especially in his wife. The duke and Mr. Bryant were soon deep in a contro- versy on some abstruse point of Etruscan history, and as neither had any positive data on which to build his theory, each was the more obstinate in the maintenance of his opinion; perhaps because it was almost solely founded on his own speculative views. Alice tried duti- fully to appear interested, but Beatrice did -not disguise her utter weariness and disgust. She made frequent attempts at a diversion, and finally paused to look back and see if the others were approaching. They were already near, and as they reached them Captain Mow- bray offered to relieve Mr.-Bryant of his charge, which he as readily resigned. Beatrice's countenance resumed ISOLINA. 259 its amiable expression, and, followed by her brother with Isolina, they rapidly ascended the -hill, regardless of all ceremony, or, as the duke afterwards observed to the duchess, of all the rules of good breeding. Arthur Hervey, a young officer with more lively humor than brains, and who held his Grace in as much aver- sion as fear, was no sooner out of .hearing than he felt himself quite at his ease with his- sister, Captain Mowbray, and Miss Camelli, the last of whom he con- sidered a cipher in -the party. "Confound him for an insolent puppy!" he exclaimed; "why, there is no opening one's lips in his presence! Such a prig of a fellow, too (saving his dukedom), to have carried off that lovely woman 1" "Miss Hervey, Miss Camelli, shall we proceed?" said Captain Mowbray, in imitation of the duke'! pompous manner. - "I am ready to obey, if it please your Gracq," said Beatrice, looking down meekly in imitation of Alice, and then adding, in her natural tone, "Come along, Miss Camelli; you are not tired already, are you V" "Not the least," said Isolina; " but do stop one mo- ment to look at this splendid view." "It is pretty," remarked Mr. Hervey; "but, for my part, I should rather by half be looking over a good stretch of English downs. Florence is a monstrously slow place; and as for Rome, if it were not for the Meet at Cecilia Metella, I do not know how people would pass their time. I could not, for the life of me, find out what there is to see there which makes English- men take such a journey." "I am surprised to hear you say so l" exclaimed Isolina. "I should have thought that even you-I mean--" "Even I, Miss Camelli," said Mr. Hervey, laughing good-humoredly, " would have found something to amuse me in those statues and pictures and tumble-down build- ings? But, I give you my word for it, I tried hard, but I couldn't. It was so confoundedly hot, too, as it is still. Beatrice dreads her journey home as much as I do, I be- lieve." v "Shall X offer you and your sister berths in my ship?" page: 260-261[View Page 260-261]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 260-261 260 ISOLINA. said Captain Mowbray. "I shall be homeward bound in another fortnight." Beatrice looked as-if she would gladly have accepted the offer in good earnest. "Thank you," replied her brother; " but I prefer dry land to water any day. By Jove!" he continued, as they now encountered a troop of dirty women and children, who offered them their straw plaits for purchase; " here is another nuisance I Can't they let me alone? I don't understand a word of their lingo. Get out of the way with you via! via!" he exclaimed, driven in his ex- tremity to resort to his small -stock of Italian; his sister and Captain Mowbray standing by, laughing, without any attempt to extricate him from his embarrassment. An expedient, however, suggested itself by which he hoped to rid himself of these importunate beggars, and to play off a practical joke on no less dignified a person than the Duke of Pedantmere. He contrived, with the assistance of Beatrice, to make known to his persecutors that a very rich " mil6rd" with a large commission to buy straw plaits was following up the hill. His stratagem succeeded, and a few minutes afterwards the duke made his appearance, his face red with passion, and pursued by a swarm of at least a dozen beggars. His courier was engaged with an equal number, whom he kept at bay, whilst Mr. Bryant was vainly remonstrating with them in voluble though somewhat anglified Italian. Mr. Hervey sprang forward to offer" his arm to Alice, who accepted it, and left her husband to fight his own battle. It wasisome minutes before the duke's ruffled dignity could be restored to anything like smoothness; and just at that moment he perceived Mr. Hervey whisper something to Alice which made her smile. He walked up to her at a quicker pace than usual, and bade her take his arm, declaring his intention of returning to the carriage. They accord- ingly rapidly descended the way they had come, leaving the rest to follow. "But we had not reached the summit," Alice ventured to suggest. "We have been high enough. you are flushed and fatigued. I was very wrong to have consented to this f ISOLINA. 261 excursion. May I be allowed to ask what occasioned your smile just now, and what was the observation Mr. Hervey favored you with?"' "Certainly," replied Alice; " he remarked to me that since the vultures had taken their departure, you had recovered your composure." "Indeed I I think the gentleman might have come to my assistance, instead of making impertinent remarks to you. I do not think that expeditions of this kind are fitting for you or for me, but still less befitting is it in you to encourage such observations." "I beg your pardon, I did not mean to offend you; and as for Mr. Hervey--" "Leave him to me, Alice: I shall soon convince him that he owes me an apology. Here is the carriage. I will bring Miss Camelli to you." The duke handed her in with the utmost respect, and then, returning for Isolina, he, with equal condescension, led her to her place beside the duchess. Bidding the coachman drive on, he mounted his horse and rode silently and- sullenly beside the other equestrians. He had not long to wait for the opportunity of a conversation with Mr. Hervey. Beatrice and Captain Mowbray rode on briskly in front, whilst Mr.. Bryant's sure-footed steed lagged behind, lost in musiugs like his rider. It was vain for, the younger gentleman to hope for escape. The duke and he were side by side, and, knowing that he had offended one who had the reputation of being' a remark- ably good shot, he was thankful when only an apology was demanded, which he was quite ready to make. page: 262-263[View Page 262-263]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 262-263 262 ISOLINA. CHAPTER XXVI. "now can see with better eyes, And'worldly grandeur I despise, And Fortune with her gifts and lies." WORDSWORTH. THE Duke and Duchbess of Pedantmere, with their suite, had left Florence, and Beatrice and her brother had started for Switzerland on the last day of May; the Tierneys also had taken flight; but Sir Roger and Lady Campbell, with Isolina, still lingered among the galleries, as the heat was not yet powerful enough to prevent them walking from their hotel to the public buildings, or from taking!long evening drives into the country. Captain Mowbray, too, remained a few days longer from his ship, in order to see a little more of his aunt, to whom every hour was now devoted. This was a great pleasure to. Lady Campbell, who had not been so much with her favorite nephew since he was a boy; and she took advan- tage of the time to hold many and long conversations with him, when Sir Roger was visiting the galleries with Isolina, to whom also her husband undertook to act chaperone whilst she sketched in the neighborhood. It was the first time that George had summoned cour- age to allude to his early love for Alice, to his hasty mar- riage, his as hasty repentance, and the remorse he had suffered after the death of his wife. He could not have chosen a more indulgent listener. If the physician is not the less welcome because he is a patient auditor of histories relating to our bodily ailments, much more do we value the friend who can listen with interest to the rela- tion of our mental joys or sorrows, and who exhibits no weariness at our egotism. The hours passed quickly and agreeably with both the aunt and nephew; yet the inter- ruptions caused'by the return of Sir Roger and Isolina from a gallery or a walk were not unwelcome to either. Isolina's girlish delight and fresh enjoyment of every- ISOLINA. aoo thing was a relief in the midst of their graver conversa- tion, and her warm appreciation of all that is beautiful and excellent in art or nature delighted Captain Mow- bray. He even proposed to his aunt that they should accompany her and Sir Roger, when -Lady'Campbell would have preferred continuing to enjoy his society alone; but she would not refuse, and she was in her secret heart not displeased by his admiration of Isolina. Sir Roger,- however, had some doubts as to the pru- dence of throwing them so much together, and ven- tured to give a hint to his wife that danger might arise to both from such frequent and easy intercourse. Lady Campbell replied that she would like nothing better than that an attachment should spring up between these two young people, both so dear to her. "g I have not thrown Isolina purposely in George's way," she continued: " he knows her history, and he is no longer a,very young man, but has passed through his experience in life; he is his own master, and will not be caught by a merely pretty face, or I should not think him worthy of Isolina."' , But if George should be indifferent to her, or if his -parents should raise difficulties?" "George will not act a dishonorable part towards Iso- lina, who has had her experience too, and she will not giveher heart easily. But should the fascination of a few weeks not produce in George an attachment for life, she will be the more easily resigned if she feels that the opportunities which naturally occur were not interfered with, and that there was no impediment but insufficient affection on one side. I think it best to trust to Provi- dence, and not interfere with events which, without con- nivance on our part, succeed one another." Whether Lady Campbell was right or wrong, will probably meet with opposite judgments from those who consider marriage a sacred tie of affection between con- genial natures, and those who consider it a political arrangement, which, in a certain rank of life, can be settled only by diplomacy. During the fortnight which intervened before his re- turn to his ship; George Mowbray was daily with iso- lina. The trials she had passed through had brought page: 264-265[View Page 264-265]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 264-265 264 ISOLINA. forward her character, and had developed certain quali- ties of head and heart which met with a response from his, and the quiet, happy frame of mind to which she had attained, with her lively interest in all that passed around her, seemed to refresh and invigorate his soul. If his aunt's conversation, her clear reasoning powers, her example and sympathy, reminded him of the true value of life,-if Sir Roger's enlarged views and cheerful; philosophy gaRve a more healthy tone to his mind, George Mowbray felt it was in Isolina's company, under the in- fluence of her guileless, bright intelligence, that he became really a better, wiser, happier man. He lamented his neglected powers and wasted energies, and desired to recover lost time. When the day arrived that he was obliged to leave Florence, he persuaded his aunt and Sir Roger to ac- company him, and to visit his ship before -she sailed. To Isolina's delight, as much as his, they consented, and all four started together for Leghorn. The following day, as it was too hot to go on board until the evening, they took a drive along the shore towards the fashionable bathing-place of Ardenza, in the direction of Monte Neri, enjoying the beauties of the line of coast and the sea- breezes. About a couple of hours before sunset, they were rowed to the Dolphin. She was a beautiful frigate, and the visitors found a repast awaiting them spread on deck. Captain Mowbray escorted them through every corner of his ship, with all the pride which a sailor feels for this first object of his affection; and perhaps there is, nothing more surprising or agreeable to a landsman than the sight of so much order and cleanliness, where, partly from the frequently opposite condition of passenger boats, partly from the attendant discomforts in every vessel when in motion, his associations with the sea are so much tmhe reverse. A glorious Mediterranean sunset detained Sir Roger and Lady Campbell later on board than they intended. The sky, fading from blue injto a delicate gray, and warming into brilliant greens and yellows, streaked with every gradation of red, from rose color to the fullest crimson, was reflected on the grand range of mountains ISOLINA. 261 near the coast, on the yellow sands in graceful curves, or the deep purple and white of the crested waves, and or the edge of every ripple as they broke upon the shore g until the eye, dazzled with gorgeous colors, saw the rainbow on the sea. The sudden darkness, if dark. J ness it can be called in that soft. light of moon and stare which belongs only to a southern climate, warned the Campbells- it was time to leave the ship, and it was only then that Lady Campbell observed Isolina's extreme pallor. She had been suffering from a severe headache for some hours, brought on by exposure to the sun during her after- noon's drive; but she had not complained, lest she should have been prevented from accompanying the party on board the Dolphin. The chilliness in the air which fol- lowed the sunset, brought on a fit of shivering, and the best thing now to be done was to take her on shore and to bed as quickly as possible. As soon as the Campbells were safe in their hotel, Captain Mowbray had to leave them to return to his ship; but he sent a messenger early on the following morning to learn how Isolina had passed the night. The account was not satisfactory. High fever had come on, and a physician had been sent for; but Captain Mowbray was obliged to depart with this intelligence. He sailed for Malta, but resolved, if possible, to return to Leghorn in another week, unless he heard from his aunt that Isolina had recovered. The anxiety he felt for her re- yealed to him the state of his own heart. le confessed to himself how dear she had become to him,-dearer than his conscience allowed was right. Whilst relating his own past history to Lady Campbell, he had been re- minded of his brother's generous kindness to him during -his own love for Alice, and he had more than a mere suspicion that Frederick was not indifferent to Isolina. This idea had-first dawned on him when he perceived his brother's look of pain as Lady Elton accused her of levity and ambition in her engagement to Mr. Fanshaw, and it had been confirmed when George himself pleaded her excuse, and saw how eagerly his assurances of her innocence had been welcomed by Frederick. Isolina's fever lasted only a few days, though it left M 23 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 266-267 266 ISOLINA. her very weak, and with a cough which caused Lady Campbell some anxiety. The physician recommended immediate change of air, and they accordingly started northward, and reached Milan by slow and easy stages. Meantime, Captain IMowbray returned to Leghorn, and was disappointed at finding them flown. How often during this journey did Isolina think of George Mowbray, and how pleasant it was to hear his praises from Sir Roger addressed to Lady Campbell! Their journey lay by the Gulf of Spezia to Genoa and 'Turin, from whence they proceeded to Milan, where they determined to spend a few days, in order to give Isolina time to recruit, and to visit the cathedral, the Brera gallery, and the Last Supper of Leonardo da Vinci. The evening of their arrival, Lady Campbell ( and Isolina walked to the cathedral, where the Northern barbarian has grafted his grand mystical ideas on t beautiful completeness of the Southern mind. they entered, they looked around with that solemn we which all must feel when they find themselves ithin the vast building, with its columns and arches, of Italian-Gothic style, rising upwards, until lost in the darkness of the evening hour. Solemn music, and the voices of priests chanting, sounded from a distant side-chapel, where a catafalque, covered with black velvet, and surrounded by lighted tapers, showed that they were performing the service for the dead. The two ladies glided noiselessly along till they reached a column from whence they could see as well as hear the ceremony. They had been standing thus about five minutes, when Isolina became conscious of having eyes fixed upon her. The light from the tapers was falling full upon her face, but they also showed the tall figure and gray hair of a venerable old gentleman, who was a few paces distant. "here was an expression of dignity and benevolence in his countenance which would have interested her, had not his earnest gaze made her feel so uncomfortable that she turned her x head another way, hoping that he would move away before she looked round again. But when she did so his eyes were still in the same direction, and she there- fore tried to think only of the ceremony before her, till, ISOLINA. 267 growing impatient, she whispered to Lady Campbell she would like to move. The old gentleman, however, moved likewise, and she soon lost sight of him in the darkness. As they came into the open air, the full moon was shin- ing on the richly-sculptured mass of white marble of the cathedral. They were standing in the piazza, looking up at it, when Isolina gave a little start, which made Lady Campbell ask her if anything were the matter. "There he is again," she whispered, clinging more closely to her friend's arm. "Who? Where?" asked LadyTCampbell. And, turning in the direction in which Isolina was looking, she saw the tall figure of a man, wrapped in a long cloak, part of which was thrown across his right shoulder, so as to conceal the lower half of his face. His grav hair escaped from beneath his broad-brimmed felt hat, and she could perceive by the moonlight that his eyes were fixed on them. Lady Campbell did not feel very comfortable, either, and wished she had asked Sir Roger to accom- pany them, though so many people were out in the street enjoying the fresh air that it had not occurred to her to be afraid. She tried, however, to conceal her uneasiness, as Isolina had not yet recovered from the effects of her fever, and her nerves were easily excited. They turned up the street leading to their hotel, and thought they had escaped their pursuer, until, turning once more, when they felt themselves safe under the archway, they perceived him at a little distance, retreat- ing up a narrow alley, in which they at last lost sight of him. They related their adventure to Sir Roger, who was much amused at the effect produced, as he declared, by "les beaux yeux " of Isolina; and, as he treated their alarm so lightly, they laughed at their own terrors, and had nearly forgotten them by the morrow. The traveler who visits the gallery of the Brera to ad- mire only the Iagar of G uercing and the Sposalizio of Raf- faelle, will be surprised to find the treasures contained in this collection, among which the most striking are the frescoes of Luini and the splendid productions of Bellini. The 'orning after their adventure in the cathedral, Lady Campbell and Isolina visited this gallery, but again un- page: 268-269[View Page 268-269]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 268-269 268 ISOLINA. accompanied by Sir Roger, who had gone to the cathe- dral to -inspect, as he said, the scene of their alarm, and to try and discover Isolina's ancient admirer. The two ladies were standing before an Eastern picture painted by Gentile Bellini, when Isolina caught sight of the very same old gentleman who had frightened her the evening before, entering the room of an opposite door. He did not at first perceive them; but just: as Lady Campbell was moving away, he-turned and instantly gave a look of recognition. They had no sooner begun to examine the picture in the next room than he. followed, till, an- noyed by his perseverance, Lady Campbell proposed leaving the gallery, and she was no less glad than Isolina to find herself again in the hotel. At the table-d'hbte dinner, however, Isolina indignantly discovered that the old gentleman had secured a place for himself opposite the Campbells. Sir Roger, unconscious of her distress, entered into conversation, and finding hint intelligent, and agreeable, besides being well acquainted with the state ot Italy, political and social, he continued to converse with him after the ladies had left the table. Isolina and Lady Campbell meanwhile were impatient for Sir Roger to join them, that they might beg him to dis- courage the acquaintance. A full half-hour elapsed before Sir Roger made his ap- pearance, and the first words he said were, "Well, Isolina, I must congratulate you on your new lover. This old gentleman made most particular inquiries about your name as soon as you left us, and I presume it was he who frightened you by looking at you in the cathedral." "I wish, my dear," said Lady Campbell, "that you would not encourage his civilities, for he has been follow- ing us about this whole morning, and has been staring at Isolina in a most unpleasant manner." "Indeed I I should have hardly suspected one so very gentlemanlike in his manners of such rudeness. He is a Venetian, and, though not an exile, liberal enough in his politics. We exchanged cards: so you may, at any rate, have the pleasure of reading his name, which, as he par- ticularly desires the honor of your acquaintance, I hope may at least assure you he is a gentleman by birth," Sir ISOLINA. 2G9 Roger handed the card to Isolina. "As he is in another hotel," he continued, " and returns to-morrow to Venice, and as I shall not call upon him unless you desire it, you X will not be troubled by him again." "Count Michieli!" exclaimed Isolina, with surprise. "Why, that was my father's name 1" "What do you mean, my dear?" asked Sir Roger, as Lady Campbell drew the card from Isolina's hand, to ascertain that she had read it correctly. "I will explain all to you in a few minutes," she said, before Isolina could reply. "I am sure that I have, how- ever, told you the story before, and that you have for- gotten it." "'Probably, my dear. You have told me a great deal which I could not promise to remember. I do, however, recollect that Isolina's father was an Italian of good birth, and that Camelli was not his real name." wi'And Michieli was ; and his father was so displeased with him for going on the stage that be not only dis- inherited him, but refused to hold any further communica- tion with him. After Louisa lost her husband, she wrote, by my advice and Mr. Bryant's, to her father-in-law, hoping that he might acknowledge the widow and orphan ; but her letters were unanswered, and when I took upon myself to write to him, and represent her case, I received a short reply, in which Count Michieli declared he knew of no such person as the deceased actor whom I had asserted to have been his son." "Suppose this Count Michieli should be your grand- father, Isolina?" said Sir Roger. "I should like to leave Milan immediately." "That is not my view," said Lady Campbell. "At any rate, I should be glad to ascertain the fact." Sir Roger consented to go in search of the old gentle- man, and. he returned in a couple of hburs with the intel- ligence that he had seen and spoken with the count, and that Isolina must prepare for an introduction to her grandfather, who proposed to call on them in the course of the evening. Her strong resemblance to her father had attracted his attention when he saw her by the light of the tapers in the cathedral, and he had never been 23* page: 270-271[View Page 270-271]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 270-271 2a0 ISOLIrA. able to rest until he could discover whether she were really his son's child. The rancor he had cherished against that son, even after his death, had been gradually subsiding with years, whilst the fact that he had ceased to bear his name when he assumed a profession which the count considered derogatory to his family, in some measure reconciled him to his own weakness in yielding to a natural yearning after the grandchild he had resolved wholly to' ignore. Isolina's features and countenance had that night brought back so vividly those of his son that he had followed her to the hotel, and after the second chance meeting in the Brera he resolved to ascertain her identity. Isolina looked forward to his visit with mingled feel- ings of aversion and dread. 'As Count Michieli entered the room, he extended his hand in a friendly manner to Sir Roger, and bowed to Lady Campbell. He was evidently nervous, though he endeavored to control his feelings. His hbands shook as he supported himself by leaning upon the table, while he looked earnestly at Iso- lina. She stood before him, pale, with downcast eyes, but with a haughty expression on her brow and in the curl of her lip which told of the unbending spirit of one who felt that she and hers had been deeply injured. Count Michieli tried to speak, but the words died on his trembling lips, and, sinking into a chair which Sir Roger had placed for him, the old man buried his face in both hands. "Isolina, my child," said Lady Campbell, kneel down and ask your grandfather's blessing." She did kneel, but without uttering a word, whilst Count Michieli, uncovering his eyes and mastering his emotion, laid his hand upon her head; then, kissing her on the forehead, he bade her rise, and pointed to a chair opposite himself, that she might be seated. There was a few minutes'tsilence. Count Michieli, with his clear, pen- etrating eyes still fixed on the young girl, seemed to trace in her features a loved image long unseen though never forgotten. Isolina, with still downcast eyes, was seated motionless before him. At length he spoke,addressing her in Italian, and as she looked up an expression of pain ISOLINA. 271 rather than pleasure passed over his countenance. She answered him in the same language, speaking it with ease, and with that soft Venetian accent which she had caught from her father. O Count Michieli smiled, and proceeded to-ask her ques- tions about her mother: whether the "Signora Luisa's" father, "the notary," were yet alive; with whom Isolina had been brought up; what was her religion, and how she had hitherto spent her life. A shade again passed over his countenance when she informed him she had been earning her living as an instructress in private fami- lies; but he only observed that he hoped that might not now be necessary. He further informed her that he was obliged to return to Venice the following day, and, as he understood from Sir Roger that they were traveling northward, he would probably for the present not see her again, but that she should hear from him ere long. He requested Sir Roger to give him his line of route and his English address, and then, rising, kissed his grand- ig Idaughter again on her forehead, and took his leave. The Campbells remained four more days in Milan, but Isolina heard no more of, or from, her grandfather. On her arrival at Geneva, she found a letter awaiting her at the post-office, inclosing another addressed to her mother, but left open for her to read. In this letter Count Mi- chieli offered to adopt Isolina as his heiress, being his nearest relation, but on condition of her becoming a Ro- man Catholic, and that she and her mother would con- sent to leave England and occupy an apartment in' his l tpalace at Venice. He should also expect that with re- gard to her future marriage she would eventually be guided by his choice, and agree only to form such a con- nection as would reconcile rival claims in the family, and thus satisfy certain near relations to the step he proposed to take in acknowledging her as his granddaughter. If Isolina and her mother would comply with these- coridi- tions, he desired that she should at once drop the name of Camelli for that of Michieli, to which she had a legiti- mate claim. Such conditions Isolina could not dream of accepting, and therefore, without waiting to consult her mother, she page: 272-273[View Page 272-273]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 272-273 272 JSOLIN'A. wrote her refusal in the most respectful language Lady Campbell could dictate, promising at the same time to deliver Count Michbieli's letters to Mrs. Camelli. Sir Roger would not, however, allow the affair to end thus, but, leaving Lady Campbell and Isolina in Switzerland, he made an excursion to Venice to see Count:Michieli and to endeavor to bring him. to more reasonable terms. He could only succeed, however, in obtaining a permission for his granddaughter occasionally to write to him,--a permission which Isolina under the circumstances would gladly have dispensid with. Count Michieli declared that if the mother sanctioned the conduct of her daughter, nothing more need be expected from him. He informed Sir Roger Campbell that since his quarrel with his son, now twenty years ago, he had adopted a nephew, a sister's son, on whom he had settled all be possessed; that he was a young man of great talent and promise of distinction, highly educated, chiefly in 'England; that he could not, therefore, do him so great an injustice as to deprive him of his inheritance without any fault on his part; but that by uniting him with Isolina in marriage, this difficulty could be easily surmounted. Still, though she had re- jected his conditions, he might remember her in his will, for the sake of her father, whom, in spite of his undutiful conduct, he had not ceased to love. He should prefer, however, since he could not publicly acknowledge Isolina as his granddaughter whilst she remained in a foreign coun' and quite beyond his control, that she should continle to retain her assumed name. Sir RogerKft Venice disappointed at the result of his missions, fs he reflected over his interview with Count Michieli,le could hardly refrain from smiling at the thought how the fictions of title and family can make men of every race and country inflict on themselves unnecessary pain, whilst foregoing the happiness which nature and truth place within their reach. ISOLINA. 273 CHAPTER XXVII. "Think'st thou the man whose mansions hold The worldling's pomp and miser's gold Obtains a richer prize Than he who, in his cot at rest, Finds heavenly peace, a willing guest, And bears the promise in his breast Of treasures in -the skies?" SIGOURNEY. AFTER a year's separation, Mrs. Camelli had her child again, and Isolina felt happy in the security of their humble home. She was rejoiced to find that her mother entirely agreed in her preference of an English cottage and inde- pendence to a Venetian palazzo and dependence on her grandfather's will; and she was thankful that his condi- tions had been such as to make it impossible for them to accept his bounty. Had he been even less exacting, how- ever, neither Mrs. Camelli nor her daughter would have yielded a willing consent to receive favors from one who had shown himself so obdurate to their husband and father. It would have seemed to-them disloyalty to the dead. Isolina had so much to tell her mother, Mrs. Camelli so much to hear, that the traveler's stories were endless, and several weeks passed happily away for both. Mrs. Camelli even forgot to grumble, and her daughter sin- cerely wished these pleasant days could continue. About three weeks after her return home, Frederick Mowbray - came down to the Pines, from whence all the rist of the family were at that time absent. He was riot aware that Isolina had returned, and, therefore, on his first visit -to Mrs. Camelli, it was an agreeable surprise to see her again among her flowers. He had a great deal to ask her about his aunt and Sir Roger, and learned from her that they had gone down to Scotland. It was also only natural that he should desire to hear friom Isolina all about his brother, as it was a considerable time since there had been any news from Captain Mowbray; but when on a second and a third visit to the cottage she had always M*, page: 274-275[View Page 274-275]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 274-275 274 ISOLINA. something more to tell of George, when she showed how accurately she remembered and repeated his observations, accompanied with a certain shy reserve of manner, which implied that he wasseven more frequently in her thoughts than on her lips, Mr. Mowbray did not feel quite satisfied. Isolina, on her side, began to be somewhat uneasy at the frequency of Frederick's visits; -he always came unex- pectedly, or she would have contrived to avoid him. But he was sure to take her by surprise, when she was either at her piano, vn she could not refuse a song, or in her garden, when he would beg for one little flower, or he called in just-p read to her a favorite poem, or a passage to which he hid alluded in a former converation. Some- times he would meet her, only by a happy 'cIA, on the road returning from Woodford, where she had been to a shop or to call on a friend; or sometimes in the lanes, or on the path across the wood, when she had visited a poor cottage in the neighborhood. Mrs. Camelli seldom' accompanied her daughter in her walks, and Frederick' generally found a pretext to detain her a little in conversa- tion, or, if she insisted that she was in a hurry, he would accompany- her part of the way back. His manner was, indeed, that of a brother, not a lover; it was free from all compliments, and was liberal of advice and even criti- cism. And as, on her part, she only entertained a sisterly l regard for him, she began, therefore, to feel ashamed of her own doubts, and accused herself of silly vanity at the idea of love from Mr. Mowbray. Still, Lady Elton's former insinuations kept recurring to her mind to put her on her guard, or rather on her mettle. She accordingly assumed more reserve than was natural towards one she had known familiarly from childhood; but her very desire to act with caution gave a hesitation and appearance of timidity which it was easy for Frederick to construe into a deeper feeling towards himself. Yet she did not run away-or refuse to receive him, for she thought that to dis- courage was to acknowledge there was something that should be discouraged; and she would not for the world have him suppose she could mistake the kindness of a friend for the devotion of a lover. There was only one part of the history of her year abroad she had not corn- ISOLINA. . 275 municated to Frederick Mowbray. By the desire of Lady Campbell, she had never mentioned the meeting - Iwith her grandfather, nor did she intend to do so until Count Michieli should acknowledge her publicly as his granddaughter. He might still object to her earning her own livelihood, and to continue to do so after assuming his name would end all hope of future reconciliation. Yet Isolina could not remain in idleness without accept- ing-assistance, which she had resolved to decline. Silence on the subject was considered by her friends better for her future prospects, as well as more advantageous for the career she might at some future day select, should her grandfather refuse to modify his conditions. Isolina therefore continued to bear the name her father had as- sumed; but as she did not wish to provoke Count Michieli's further displeasure, lit was agreed by Sir Roger and Lady Campbell, as well as by Isolina herself, that she should for the present resign their and her cherished idea of her becoming a professional singer, although this would have enabled her to spend part of each year with the Campbells in London. Her studies on the Continent had developed a voice of extraordinary power, and the masters under whose direction she had placed herself had prophesied for her "a great success." She was, at any rate, resolved to continue practicing the method she had learned whilst aboad, in the belief that her grand- father would at length relinquish all claim to her, and that Sir Roger and Lady Campbell would cease to con- sider that claim an advantage. Under these circumstances Isolina was the more easily persuaded.-by the'Duchess of Pedantmere to undertake the charge of her children. Two months' interval was allowed her to remain with her mother, and six weeks of this time had been agreeably enlivened by the visits of Frederick Mowbray. Isolina always mentioned these visits in her letters to Lady Campbell; but as this infor- lmation was diluted with accounts of what she was reading, anxious speculations about the future, comments on Lady Campbell's letters, etc., and as it was not unusual for Frederick to spend a few weeks alone, reading, at the Pines, whilst Lady Campbell had the strong conviction page: 276-277[View Page 276-277]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 276-277 276 ISOLINA. that Isolina's thoughts were with the younger rather than the elder brother, it never occurred to her there was aDny- thing remarkable in her nephew's attentions to Mrs. Camelli or her daughter. Soon after Isolina's return home she received a most affectionate letter from Mrs. Hazlewood, and this was, followed by an invitation to spend a week with them at Friarham, before she entered on her new duties at Forestmere Castle. Mrs. Hazlewood, however, thought it right to inform her that she might perhaps meet the new baronet, Sir Thomas Fanshaw, and Elgiva, who had returned from their travels to take possession of Slow- stream Hall, Sir Richard having died two months previ- ously. Isolina would rather have avoided them; but, as she could not suppose it possible that she should never see them again, it was as well to get over the meeting. With her mother's approbation, therefore, but not until Mrs. Caimelli had tried to impress on her daughter's mind the immensity of her own sacrifice in allowing her to depart a week sooner than necessary, Isolina wrote to accept Mrs. Hazlewood's invitation. Nothing could be more affectionate than the welcome she received from old and young on her arrival at the rectory. The children disputed who should sit next her, until Mr. Hazlewood had to interfere, to prevent their absorbing her entirely. Both he and Mrs. Hazlewood were full of affectionate interest in, everything that con- cerned her, and were attentive listeners to all she could tell them. She had been three days at Friarham, when one morning as she was seated at the piano singing to the children, the door opened, and Lady Fanshaw and Count Jacopo Priuli were. announced. Isolina was pro- voked at herself when she felt her color rise, and, though it was some relief that Sir Thomas was not of the party, neither visitor was very welcome. "Miss Camelli 1" exclaimed the new Lady Fanshaw. "Why, who would have thought of seeing you here again, and at your old post, too Where did you drop from?y" Count Jacopo bowed, with his most amiable smile, and, extending his hand, after Lady Fanshaw had shaken that of Isolina, claimed old acquaintance. ISOLINA. . 2" Mrs. Hazlewood at this moment entering, explained to Lady Fanshaw how Isolina had just returned from abroad, and was paying them a visit of a few days. Elgiva had grown more prononche in manners and appearance during the year which had intervened since her marriage; the frank, girlish expression of her countenance, which at one time excused any impertinence, had hardened into a bold stare of confidence. She had, however, become decidedly handsomer, and the brilliancy of her eyes was improved by a. delicate touch of rouge on her cheeks. She was dressed in mourning, but of rich materials, and of the most becoming make that could be devised, by the most expensive and fashionable of Parisian dressmakers. Whilst she conversed with Mbrs. Hazlewood, Count Jacopo and Isolina were left to entertain each other. "Always at the piano," he began. "May I ask how is the voice?" "I am not singing much at present," said Isolina, " but I have been taking lessons abroad." "They cannot improve what was already so perfect," observed Count Jacopo; "but I shall hope one day to have the pleasure of hearing you again. 'Did I under- stand Mrs. Hazlewood rightly, that you are going to : %reside with the Duchess of Pedantmere?" Xssu"I am." g u "I cannot imagine a more delightful person with whom to have your hom'e." H"I am much attached to her." "I hope you enjoyed your travels. It is strange that we never happened to meet." "Were you, then, also in Italy?" "Yes; I accompanied Sir Thomas and Lady Fansbaw to Rome last winter, and I was likewise in Venice." Isolina changed countenance for a moment. Were you there too?" he continued. "No, I was not." v "You missed much, then. Perhaps I am too partial to my native city, but I think there is nothing in Italy worth seeing compared to it. It is my home, and I have an uncle there whose pictures are also worth seeing, I 24 page: 278-279[View Page 278-279]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 278-279 278 ISOLINA. assure you,-Count Michieli: his palace is- one of the most splendid in Venice." "Indeed," said Isolina, quietly; but Count Jacopo's eyes, which had rested on her a moment whilst speaking, as if, as she thought, to read her mind, were averted the next instant, and, almost before there was time for either of them to add more, Elgiva rose from her chair and proposed taking leave. a"Sir Thomas will be sure to call on you," she said to Isolina, as she parted.' "I shall tell him you are here,- that is, unless he consents to accompany me to New- market to-morrow. I don't think I shall persuade him," she added, turning to Mrs. Hazlewood; "for he is full of his new duties as a country gentleman, and, as H have Count Priuli to escort me, he is free. I wouldn't miss to- morrow for half the Indies; Princess Mary is to run, and I have betted, I am ashamed to say how much, upon her." "Princess Mary!" exclaimed Sibylla. "Oh, I should like to see that!" "Princess Mary, my dear," said Count Jacopo, smiling, and patting her rosy cheek, "is a pretty, sleek, black mare you would like to ride if you had her." "Oh!" sighed Sibylla, resignedly: '"I thought she was a real princess." Lady. Fanshaw and Count Jacopo now'took their de- parture, and Isolina was made to resume her seat at the piano. Sir Thomas Fanshaw called the next day when all the family were out, and Miss Camelli, accordingly, left Friarham without seeing him. The ducal castle, which was to form our heroine's new home,- was one of those fine old buildings still existing in various parts of England, which have stood the test of time and weather through -many generations, and by a few alterations had been made to suit modern taste and convenience, and been transformed into the comfortable mansion of an English nobleman of :the nineteenth cen- -tury. Quadrangular in form, the front was of solid stone masonry, with a ditch or fosse protecting it on three sides. A spacious road, over what was once the drawhridge, led up to the gateway, which was surmounted by the armo- rial bearings of the family. The entrance was by a noble Is - - ISOLrrA. - 279 ball, softly carpeted, and through the plate-glass windows of an opposite door the visitor-could see the waters of a fountain playing in the centre of the inner court, which was paved with tessellated marbles, and where the old ivy covered the most ancient part of the castle, varied by the lighter green or 1russet leaf of the Virginia creeper. Heads of deer with branching horns and other trophies of the chase, with old weapons which had been brandished by many a lusty scion of the house of Pedantmere, dec- orated the inner walls of the hall. Two broad stair- cases of dark-gray marble, with light balustrades, and rich carpets np the centre, led to opposite parts of- the house, ealch having a copyof anantique statue in ,a niche on the landing-place, and connected above by a gallery running round the interior. Below, two lofty doors of oak and gilding conducted to the apartments on the ground floor; that to the right opened upon a passage lined with an. tique statues and hung with family portraits, life-size, by which the visitor arrived at the magnificent suite of re- ception-rooms, with a stretch of green, close-shaven lawn and bright flower-beds before the windows. A broad sheet of running water was seen beyond, with an extent of park, studded with oak and beech, below which the deer herded, whilst the spire of a cathedral might be dis- covered in the far distance. Returning to the hall already described, the oaken door on the opposite side led to the private rooms of the duchess, among which was a suite assigned to the governess and the children; and here Isolina had her garden and flowers, whilst a back-stairs led to the sleeping- and sitting-rooms of Alice. In her little kingdom Isolina reigned over a palace as luxurious as that of a princess. Hir friend had be- stowed every pains to add to its comforts and pleasures. Copies from the best masters had been brought here from other parts of the house, where they had been nearly forgotten, and now hung in Isolina's sitting- and dining- room, and a charming apartment opening upon the garden was assigned for the lessons. There was a large play- ground for the children, and a small winding staircase led up to Isolina's bedroom, which was only separated from that of the duchess by the room occupied by her page: 280-281[View Page 280-281]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 280-281 5V .......... pupils. A few steps higher led to Alice's boudoir, where every luxury that art could contribute had been provided by the duke for his young and lovely wife. Alice's own taste had added to its beauty as well as comfort, and none were admitted into this sanctuary but her husband, her children, and her intimate friends. Beyond this again lay the nurseries for the Marquis of Castleton, his nurse, and Mrs. Villiers. After the hours of easy lessons, sufficient for such young pupils as the Ladies Margaret and Julia Castle- ton, Isolina had leisure for her musical studies, or to stroll into the garden with her book, whilst keeping a motherly eye on the gambols of the little girls. She left them as much as possible to develop their own ideas and settle their own disputes, and when interference became necessary she stepped in as a mediator, who led each to discover where she was to blame and to desire to atone. Alice would often join them, and she would sometimes laugh at Isolina for her diffidence and the doubts she en- tertained of her own capacity for education, It requires, indeed, no small exercise of judgment to teach the art of self-government, the most important aim in training the young; to encourage the natural good instincts of heart and head and repress the evil. This subject formed the daily conversation between the duchess and her gov- erness. Isolina's evenings were generally spent in quiet study; but she was occasionally invited to join the party in the drawing-room, and was there introduced like any other guest, whilst treated by the duke with formal po- liteness, and by Alice with that friendly ease which com- manded a similar treatment from their friends. It may generally be observed that, in the houses of persons of undoubted position or rank, any one holding an inferior place is sure to meet with more polite treatment than where there is a nearer approach to real equality, and therefore a greater fear lest the boundary-line should be overstepped. The vulgar prejudice remains the same; there is only greater security against the infringement of its laws. With Alice, Isolina was always sure to meet with affectionate respect, and that equality of feeling and demeanor without which no real friendship can exist. ISOLINA. 281 The youth, beauty, and animation, as well as perfectly well-bred manners, of the young governess, and even her slightly foreign accent, were all in her favor, and her musical talents, with the attraction of her rich, melodious voice, made her always welcome. In these evenings, however, she never failed to slip away early, that late hours might not interfere with her duties to her pupils; and the attachment which was springing up in these little girls towards her added greatly to the happiness of her life. CHAPTER XXVIII. "Oh, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, Since riches point to misery and contempt? Who'd be so mocked with glory? or to live But in a dream of friendship?" Timon of Athens. SINCE the evening when Count Michieli first saw Isolina, the image of his dead son seemed to haunt him at all hours, and in whatever occupation he was engaged. He had left her at Milan with the full intention ofre- storing her to her rightful inheritance, even without those conditions which his letter afterwards imposed, and which had been dictated to him by one who knew that they would not be accepted. What Count Jacopo Priuli had told Isolina was perfectly true: he was the nephew of Count Michieli; but he did not likewise inform her that he was his heir and her rival. Left an orphan whilst very young, Jacopo Priuli had been confided to the guardianship of his maternal uncle, his nearest surviving relation. He was taken into his house, and educated from childhood with his cousin, who, like himself, was an only son. When Jacopo reached his twelfth year, Count Michieli sent him to England to complete his education in the Jesuit College of Stoneyhurst. The advantages of an English education' 24* page: 282-283[View Page 282-283]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 282-283 282- ISOLINA. formed one inducement with his guardian; but another and a stronger motive was a wish to separate him from his own son, who, though four years older than young Priuli, could not compete with him in those qualities which form the man of the world. The representative of a younger branch of an old Venetian family, Jacopo had no fortune to support the honors of his name, and he was, therefore, wholly dependent on his uncle. He had displayed an envious disposition from his earliest boyhood, which broke out in his quarrels with Enrico Michieli, who, when Jacopo Priuli was sent to England, had just attained his seventeenth year. Enrico had been educated under his father's eyes, and was imbued with the political tenets of Count Michieli, who was by nature inclined to embrace generous and philanthropical views, and was ready to incur some risk in their support. In 1820 he narrowly escaped an Austrian prison, and he had ever since been an object of suspicion to the government. He had, how- ever, contrived to elude their vigilance; but his character could not escape the deteriorating effects which are the natural consequences of living under a constant deception. A life passed in perpetual caution and concealment was repugnant to his nature, and had therefore caused a severity and even harshness of temper, which inspired fear in those dependent upon him. In Jacopo fear pro- duced cunning, in Enrico, a timid submission to his father's will. But Enrico was, besides, passionate and If hasty, and the cold, calculating temper of Jacopo often gave him cause for irritation, which would at times burst out in fits of ungovernable rage, for which Count Michieli never failed to chastise him severely, even after he had passed ihto manhood, whilst Jacopo always contrived to- elude punishment; and long before Jacopo was sent from his uncle's-l house the separation of the two boys had be- come absolutely necessary for their. present, as well as future, happiness. Enrico xias the pride of Count Michieli's heart. He was the image of his mother, who had died a year after his birth, and who had been celebrated in Venice for her beauty. Y0iung M-ichieli's handsome person, his grace; his talents, and his wit, early won for him the admiration '- i : .ISOLINN,4. 283 of all his father's friends. Many of these belonged to the party secretly hostile to the, government, and Count Michieli hoped that his son would one day play a promi- nent part in the liberation of his country from a foreign yoke. The idea of liberty varies much with the individual in whom it has taken root, and develops itself very differ- ently, according to the soil in which it grows. There are, perhaps, few who sincerely desire the freedom which would guarantee independent thought, action, and speech to all men alike, and would only impose' restraint on the individual according to the moral or material injury he may inflict on his neighbor. The so-called aristocratic liberal, indeed, does not belong to any one social class, but is met with as frequently as selfishness and pride are to be found in human nature. It is perhaps only the instinct of self-preservation, guided by a few enlarged and virtuous minds, which can truly aim at a just balance of democracy in one scale, and restrictive laws in the other, and which would secure respect for the rights of gI the minority as well as of the majority,--liberty, social as well as political, for every human being. i Count Michieli's idea of liberty was purely political, or rather did not amount to more than a desire that his city of Venice should be relieved from its foreign rulers and become Italian, uniting the commercial prosperity of the present era with the glorious reputation of the past, and that the Queen of the Adriatic should thus recover her former place and distinction as a European state. As he belonged to an old Venetian family, so he clung to its traditions, which, unlike those of the Florentine noble (whose greatest pride is to trace back his origin to wool- carding and other branches of trade), relate wholly to diplomacy, or the wealth and the power enjoyed by the few over the many in- the state. The young Count Michieli was trained in these ideas, whilst kept in total ignorance of the world, and he'was not even allowed to associate with youths of his own standing and position. As he reached the age of manhood, he was introduced with as much' caution into society as if he had been a girl; and he knew that his marriage had been already page: 284-285[View Page 284-285]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 284-285 284 ISOLINA. arranged with a young lady he had seen when a child, but who had not since that time left her convent. To gratify his desire to visit foreign countries, his father ob- tained a passport for him, as well as for himself, to travel in Germany and France. During this journey of a few months, though Count Michieli never relaxed in that supervision to which Enrico had been so accustomed from infancy that he submitted to it without a, murmur, it was impossible for the youth not to fall in, occasionally, with others of his own age, and to have his eyes opened to see a little of a world from which he had been kept an abso- lute stranger. Though a man in years and in looks, he was, in reality, a child, and as if just released from swad- dling-clothes, incapable of using limbs which be had never been allowed to exercise; and no sooner did Enrico return to Venice, and his father relax somewhat in dis- cipline, than he plunged into every excess. A gambling debt of such an amount that his'father would not, or could not, defray it, and his own resolute refusal to marry the young lady destined for him, and thus be relieved from his difficulties, obliged him to quit Venice again, with the intention of one year's absence. Count Michieli himself had lately fallen under some fresh suspicion with the government, and was denied a passport. He could not, therefore, accompany Enrico, and admonitions- and hot words at parting between father and son added to the pain of a first separation. The young Count Michieli proceeded to Paris, where his taste for lively society, his genius for music, the singular powers of his voice, and the beauty of his person, led him wholly into the theatrical line. His first appearance on, the stage was successful beyond all his hopes, and the compliments showered down on him, the invitations he received from persons of rank and consequence, as well as from the leading artistes in Paris, were enough to intoxicate an older and,more sober brain than that of this young nobleman. Angry, menacing letters from -his father reached him whilst in the midst of this incense of flattery. The bitter recollection that Count Michieli had refused his unreasonable demands for the payment of his debts, and the fear of ridicule fr mn his present companions, stimulated him to assert bil inde. ISOLINA. 285 pendence.. He soon afterwards; therefore, entered into an engagement at the London' opera, which decided his vocation for life. It was his marriage to Louisa Newton, his real affec- tion for his wife, and the still greater domestic happiness he enjoyed after the birth of his daughter, which appeared to awaken more earnest thoughts and repentance of his undutiful conduct, whilst he still cherished the hope of forgiveness from his father. The lessons of his child- hood, the lessons of duty and religion, began to, revive in his heart. For, whatever may be the errors of a later education, and the temptations and corruptions of life, we seldom altogether lose the memory of those days of innocence when the purest affection surrounded us and watched over us at every step. Enrico thought of his father as he remembere him when he was yet a little child, and he longed for keconciliation. But, meantime, his coup had left Stoneyhurst at the age of twenty, and on his return to Venice had been adopted by Count Michieli as his heir. Self-interested and reserved, Jacopo Priuli had learned from his tutors the duty of obedience to themselves, as his spiritual guides, and, as a sequence to this, that he was bound to use any means Providence might throw in his way to- obtain wealth and power, which might in after-years enable him to assist the society of which he considered himself a lay member. He spoke English with fluency, whilst retaining his native' Italian, and he had been well instructed in all learning and in every accomplishment which could form the high-bred gentleman. Before leaving England he had received his uncle's. permission to seek an interview with his cousin. The result of this meet- ing between two men of such opposite characters was not satisfactory to either. The smooth courtesy of Ja- copo was distasteful to Enrico; yet he found himself involuntarily led on to talk of his own affairs till he felt drawn within a coil from which there was no escape. Words passed his lips which, on after-reflection, he knew when repeated might be interpreted differently from their real meaning. He was conscious he had been imprudent in acknowledging his embarrassments-to his cousin, and page: 286-287[View Page 286-287]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 286-287 286 . ISOLINA. he was irritated- by Jacopo's affected sympathy and by his offers of mediation. He declared that hb wanted no mediator between himself and the father whom, in spite of faults on both sides, he loved devotedly. The high words with which he rejected Jacopo's apparently well- meant suggestions were met by gentle remonstrance, placing. Enrico more than ever in the wrong with his cousin, with his father, and with himself. When they sep- arated, his words were still full of indignation; but it was not till left alone that, with poignant self-reproach, he felt convinced that a reconciliation with his father was further off than ever. Meanwhile, Jacopo Priuli, his pity mingled with contempt for Enrico, perceived that he Was master of the situation: he had not committed himself by a single word, -and he had obtained from his cousin all the information he required. On his return to Venice, Count Priuli's position gave him ample scope to practice the skill he had acquired in a Jesuit school, and thus extricate himself with honor from his difficult position as well as reconcile his con- science with his interest. He represented his cousin's conduct and temper in what he endeavored to consider their true light, and, whilst apologizing for his manner of life and for his opposition to his father's will, he left no hope of-any real change, and thus confirmed Count Michieli's unforgiving disposition towards his son As time wore on, Jacopo Priuli gradually crept into Count Michieli's good graces, and, having won his confidence and affection, he soon made himself so indispensable that he became his uncle's right hand, and Count Michieli endeavored to accustom himself to the idea that his nephew might replace the son who was morally dead to him. Soon after Jacopo Priuli's return to Venice-he received the offer of a high civil office from the Austrian governor, to whom he had been strongly recommended by the Superior of the Jesuits in that city. The honor had been unsolicited by himself, and he refused to accept it without the sanction of his uncle. His apparent hesi- tation and scruples satisfied Count Michieli,- who, un- willing trhat his nephew should give offense to those in authority, or reject advantages he had not sought, ad- 'a ISOLINA. ; 87 vised his acceptance of the post. He affected, when speaking with Count Michieli, a strong leaning towards liberal views and a desire for information, whilst, without compliment or flattery, his deference for his uncle's opinion on all subjects was an incense which few men could withstand. - On the other hand, when with his employers he listened silently to discussions and animad- versions on Italian aspirations, and though it was taken for granted that Count Jacopo Priuli agreed with the sentiments uttered, none could say he had expressed any- thing derogatory to a good patriot. When his uncle's views were quoted, and his opinion asked, he smiled at the enthusiasm of a fresh old age, and thus, whilst same gave him credit for sheltering Count Michieli from the scrutiny of a suspicious government, others believed the nephew to be a spy on his uncle's actions, and a guarantee that he should not be led into any act productive of mis- chief, or, as it was termed, into extravagancies. Though Count Priuli was frequently absent on jour- neys, sometimes for his own pleasure, but more frequently on secret missions for the government, his-home in Venice was always the palace of Count Michieli. They occu- pied separate apartments, but he had free access to that inhabited by his uncle. There was, however, one suite. of rooms which were held sacred, and of which Count Michieli himself retained the keys; and they were those which had once belonged to his cousin. The semi-Gothic window of the largest of these rooms overlooked the Great Canal; the walls were hung-with yellow silk, now faded and torn, and every luxury had once been provided that an effeminate taste could desire. Not an article of the furniture had been removed since the young count left his home. A richly-carved bed with curtains of silk to match the hangings on the walls, chests of drawers and cabinets of massive black ebony inlaid with ivory, with chairs of the same material, and cushions of the richest satin, which had stood the test of centuries, the more modern luxuries of sofa and settee, a curiously wrought table, the slab resting on the winged lion of Saint Mark, the bronze inkstand of classical form, with pens and paper, over which were scribbled a few bars and notes of \ f page: 288-289[View Page 288-289]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 288-289 2i88- ISOLrYA. music,-all remained as Enrico had left them on that last night. The piano was open, with music on it of his- own composition, and an ancient musical instrument lay on a chair near. ;Nothing had been touched after an interval of five-and-twenty years. Here Count Michieli had passed hour after hour, when none but those silent walls could hear his groans and curses, turned the next -instant into prayers and bless- ings; here he had sat gazing on every object, whilst hope yet remained that his son might return to ask his for- giveness; here he never ceased to come until delav and repeated offenses had stopped up every channel to mercy; and here, whilst he declared that he never could pardon, with the same lips he kissed the gloves which his son had thrown aside before he left his home. It was in this room he-spent whole days the' week after he heard of the death of his Enrico, and none knew the agony of those hours. Jacopo Priuli was beside his uncle when Mrs. Camelli's letter reached him, and he saw the emotion in his coun- tenance as he silently handed it to him. By another delicate diplomatic transaction, this worthy nephew dis- suaded Count Michieli from yielding to the impulse which prompted him to reply kindly to his son's widow, and before Lady Campbell's letter arrived, Priuli had represented Enrico's marriage to the daughter of a " vil- lage notary" as the scheme of an intriguing lawyer to obtain rank and fortune for his family. The accidental meeting with Isolina in the cathedral 'at Milan, and the subsequent conversation with Sir Roger Campbell, had placed this marriage in a less invidious light, and though the count could not but look on it as a mesalliance, he believed that his granddaughter, with the auspices under which she had been educated, might be safely adopted as his heir; but just after his return to Venice, and wh he had passed a night in cool reflection, he met with Mis nephew, arrived there from Rome. The sight of Priuli reminded him that in recognizing Isolina, and restoring her to her birthright, he might be doing a great injustice to one who had for many past years been acknowledged as his heir. It was the result of an hour's conversation ISOL INA. 289 with his nephew, in which .be 'related to him all that had occurred, which made' him resolve to write the letter to Isolina prescribing the conditions of his acknowledgment of her as his granddaughter. Count Jacopo was still in Venice when Sir Roger arrived, but carefully avoided a meeting. After Sir Roger's departure, Count Michieli resolved to banish the thought of Isolina; but her features had brought back too forcibly the image of his beloved son to be easily dismissed from his memory. He went more into society than for many past years, but, waking or sleeping, he was pursued by memories and thoughts which nothing could drive from his mind. For nearly two months he had not entered the rooms which he had been in the habit of visiting almost daily, when one night, unable to sleep, he rose from his bed, and, lamp in - hand, stole softly towards the door of his son's apartment. - There were two doors which led to this rooim. That by which he usually entered opened from a spacious chamber or hall, lighted fron above, and only communicating with the rest of the house through Count Michieli's bed-chamber. It was hung with heavy old tapestry, and a third door at the end led to a small library, where the count frequently spaent his ervenings. The two doors of this library closed with secret springs: one opened on the large chamber, the other on a flight of steps leading to a narrow canal at the back of the palace, and which, passing under a low arch, and taking several turns before it arrived at the principal thoroughfare of the city, was a convenient passage for any persons, political or other intimate friends of Count Michieli's, to visit him without attracting observation. Here his private gondola was moored, and it was by this door he generally returned to his house. At the foot of the staircase leading to his library another flight of stairs branched off to the left, winding up a turret and conduct- ing to the rooms once occupied by Enrico's private tutor; passing along and connected by a narrow corridor with his son's room, which could be likewise entered from the large chamber. As Count Michieli, on the night in questioa, visited Enrico's room, the previous state of nervous excitability N 25 page: 290-291[View Page 290-291]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 290-291 290 . lb'^ a.. which prevented him from sleeping, made him tremble as he inserted the key; and itWwas some minutes before'he could succeed in turning it. As the door opened, his own shadow from! the lamp, which he had placed behind him on the floor, made him start. Count Michieli was not a timid man, and he could not help half smiling at i these unwonted womanish alarms; but as he entered the room there was a-sound which broke the silence and sent a chilly sensation to his heart: it was only the ticking of the small ornamental clock which stood on the chimney piece. Could any one have ventured to intrude on that room in his absence? And if so, how could it have been , entered except by a false key? Everything stood in its usual place. He went carefully back to the door by which he had entered, locked it, and proceeded to examine the farther' door, leading to the corridor, which he found also locked. He then searched every corner of the room, in vain: not an article had been moved ; and as he concluded his examination, and paused again at the chimney-piece, the clock was silent. He was, however, positive he had heard it; and on examining the hands, they pointed to a different hour from that he recollected they stood at when last they stopped. He sat a little while reflecting 7who could possibly have had access there. The servants were never in this part of the house, and none could reach it without passing either through the count's private apartments or up the turret staircase, of which he alone had the key. It seemed as impossible that- his nephew could have been there; for what purpose could he have come? Count Michieli rose deliberately from the chair in which he had seated himself opposite the fireplace, and, moving the clock more suddenly than was his habit when he wished to reach a small cabinet concealed behind it, be observed that the hands began to move again, and he was thus assured that some one must have been in the room and have meddled with it just before he entered. He raised the silken hangings behind, to examine the panel which formed the door of the cabinet, and which the more effectually escaped observation by following the line of the arabesque pattern on the wall. Touching a spring, a second door was disclosed, of which Count Michieli bad the key, and, unlocking this, he took, from a small partition beyond, a miniature of his son, which lay there with all the letters he had received from him since they parted. Returning with these to his chair, he counted them carefully over; then, selecting that con- taining the history of his marriage, and another in which Enrico informed his father of the birth of his daughter and prayed for his forgiveness, he-read them both through. The stern old man pressed the picture and the letters to his heart, and, laying his gray head on the table, he wept aloud. ' After a few, minutes he roused himself and returned to the fireplace. Pushing aside a sliding-door at the back of the secret cabinet, he withdrew from behind it a bundle of papers, which he carefully examined and replaced. The letters and the miniature were laid as he had found them, and, once more taking a careful sutr- vey of the room, he was preparing to leave it by the way he had come, when he changed his purpose, and turned towards the other door. As he opened it, the rusty old hinges creaked in the sockets; but, as the noise subsided, Count Michieli distinctly heard stealthy footsteps retreat- ing. He raised his lamp above his head, so as to see the whole length of the corridor leading to the top of the turret stairs: all was again silent and dark. He resolved, however, to return to his own room by descending these steps and ascending the back-stairs to the library. As he reached the foot, he perceived that the door'which was usually locked, and of which he alone had the key, was ajar. He pushed it open, and a breath of outer air, which extinguished his lamp, convinced him that the door on the canal was also unclosed. In this he was mistaken; but, pursuing his search, he stepped into the clear moon- light, where was not a sound or sight of human being. He did not care to examine the gondola whilst thus alone, but, returning, fastened the bolts in the outer door, walked up the stairs tow his library, and, after kindling a light, rang up the servants. Among them, alarmed at the summons, arrived his nephew. After giving the necessary orders to search the gondola and every place page: 292-293[View Page 292-293]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 292-293 292 292 ISOLINA. where a robber could lurk concealed, Count Michieli sat down to wait the result of their examination, with Jacopo facing him. Whilst asking his advice how better to secure the house from intruders, the-uncle fixed his keen glance on his nephew's face. It would have been difficult for that face to become paler or more sallow than its habitual hue, and, though the old man thought te perceived Jacopo quail a little under his scrutiny, it was but for a moment, and might have only been occasioned by the unpleasant sensation of being looked at so earnestly. He suggested that the clock could have been set in motion by some movement in a room above, that the old lock of the turret door was probably worn out, and that Count Michieli himself might have forgot- ten to close it when he last opened it. He, at the same time, acknowledged all this was very improbable. But what motive could any robber have to enter that apart- ment, unless it was for purposes of concealment? There was nothing to steal, for there were surely no objects of value equal to what might be found in other parts of the house. Count Michieli, however, gave orders for the locks to be altered on all these doors, and made more secure. The servants returned from their fruitless search, and in a few days all was restored to its usual order. The following week Count Jacopo Priuli started on a special mission to England. CHAPTER XXIX. "The pride that apes humility." soUWY. PEIRHAS there was no one except the children in the Castle of Forestmere so happy as Isolina, and her calm, peaceful life there would have been without a cloud but for two persons,-the duke's sister, Lady Emmeline Castleton, and her satellite, the duchess's maid, Mrs. ISOLINA. J 293 Villiers. Lady Emmeline had met with a severer disap- pointment than she had confessed to any living soul when she had discovered that Captain Mowbray's at- traction was to her cousin, not herself; and his marriage had been a real blow to her. She had allowed her feel- ings to betray her more than ever before, and the pain and mortification of a wounded spirit, "sore to bide" at all times, was peculiarly sore to her. .The effort to hide what she suffered was also so great that she was obliged to resort to some other excitement to stifle thought. Truly has the poet Burns urged charity in judging of another's conduct: "We know not what's resisted." But an aching heart, without any object of sufficient in- terest to fill the thoughts and occupy the day until Time can do his work, has caused many a woman in all classes of society to seek refuge either in the bodily excitement of ardent spirits, or, if not so tempted, in the intoxication of superstition and false religion. : Lady Emmeline was not, however, contented to follow in the steps of her pastor, the Rev. Mr. Sherbrooke, but had a wide spirit of conversion,-less perhaps from the desire to save the souls of her fellow-creatures, than from the desire that all should conform to her opinions. She had long given up her mother, but she had better hopes of her sister-in law, for whose worldly tastes she pro- fessed a charitable toleration. Though her brother re- garded her visits among the poor and her passion for sermons as the natural weakness of an old maid, she, nevertheless, continued to exercise an influence over him which Bone suspected so little as himself. No one could be more kind, more condescendingly kind, than Lady Emmeline to Isolina, and Isolina reproached herself for not feeling more grateful to one who was always making some suggestion for her comfort, or be- stowing on her some gift, for which the young governess could make no adequate return. But if Lady Emmneline was condescending, Mrs. Villiers was still more so, and Isolina, at any rate, owed her no obligation. Jealous of the governess being treated by "Her Grace" as a friend, she let no opportunity escape of venting her spite; all which was lost upon Alice, who, occupied with other 25* page: 294-295[View Page 294-295]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 294-295 294 ISOLINA.- matters, did not even perceive it; but with the duke and Lady Emmeline, Mrs. Villiers had the power to work greater mischief. A large shooting-party was expected at the castle. The duke- had been absent from home, and the day pre- vious to his expected return, the duchess was walking with Isolina in the garden, enjoying a mild September evening, when she received a letter from her husband, informing her that he had met Captain Mowbray in London, and, as Lord -and Lady Elton and Frederick Mowbray were among the guests expected at the castle, he bad invited him likewise. Alice- read the note aloud to Isolina. '"If Captain Mowbray knew you were here," she added, "he would have double - pleasure in accepting the invitation." "Me, Alice What are you thinking of? Captain Mowbray would not think i " "Your blush seems to imply, however, that you think Pardon me, dear Isolina, but I have my suspicions that he has also given you cause to think." "Then my blush has belied him, for he has never cared for me more than as a friend, and I feel sure, I hope, he never-would 1"The last word came a little falteringly. "I am afraid you are not worthy of him,"-said Alice, smiling; " but'I would not have hinted at such an idea had I not-seen and heard enough when in Florence, and since that from Lady Campbell, to make me believe that be has a just appreciation of you. You know my opinion of Captain Mowbray: he has his faults, but a more true and generous being does not exist." As' she said these words; the duchess raised the curtain of the school-room window, and was stepping into the house, when she perceived Lady Emmeline. "Where did you drop from, Emmeline?" she asked, as she recovered from her first surprise. "I thought you were not to return home until after to-morrow." "We arrived an hour ago," replied Lady Emmeline, "and I came over here in the hope of seeing you quietly before your company was expected. How do you -do, "SOLINA. 295 Miss Camelli?" she added, with a nod to Isolina, and extending two fingers of her left hand. "I was too tired to join you in the garden, so'I have been sitting here, waiting for you." "It could not have tired you to step out, my dear, surely?" said Alice. "We were on the bench just outside. " "You were too- deeply engaged in conversation with Miss Camelli for me to venture to intrude." "We were not talking of anything -so important as to prevent my welcoming you, Emmeline, after an absence of two months. But how are you? And thedqwager? I hope she is not over-fatigued by her journey?" \ "Mamma has been very well, and enjoyed all her visits,- except the last to the Dalkeiths, who don't suit her at all." "I should think not," said Alice. "They have such an excellent chaplain residing with them. I wonder my brother has not a chaplain H In a large establishment like this, a chaplain would maintain thetigipous and moral tone of the household." "I should object to another inmate, unless the duke should wish--one-like Mr. Bryant, for instance; but he would not accept the office." "Why not Mr. Sherbrooke?" "He has the living of M . I should not think of proposing such a thing to him, more than to Mr. Bryant," said Alice; " but I will speak to the duke." The duchess added this, in the hope of preventing her sister-in-law from laying the subject before her husband. "Are we to have the pleasure," she continued, "of'seeing you and the dowager at the castle next week?" "Probably you will see mamma, but I have had gayety enough, and there is such an arrear of duties at home to be made up. Mr. Sherbrooke wrote to me the Sundav- school has gone all wrong whilst I was away, and a book has been introduced there which I cannot sanction: it would quite demoralize the children,-tendencies decidedly lax. Besides, several cottagers on the green persist in sending their, children to the Baptist and Wesleyan schools, and I must*put a stop to this. Whonm do you expect next week at the castle?" page: 296-297[View Page 296-297]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 296-297 296 ISOLINA. "Oh, a heap of people besides the Eltons, who, I wrote to you, are coming, with both their sons." "Both!" exclaimed Lady Emmeline, in feigned sur- prise. "I thought you only expected Mr. Mowbray." "Yes; but I have just heard from the duke that Vap- tain Mowbray is likewise to be here." "Indeed!"The tone of this little word--half disap- proval, half acquiescence-implied more than was meant to meet the ear. "Beatrice Hervey and her brother are coming," con- tinued Alice,- " and the Tierneys, whom we met abroad." "That poor little Mabel!" exclaimed Lady Emmeline. "Why poor?" "Oh, her education has been sadly neglected. I think, Alice, I will come for part of the time. I should like to see Mr. Tierney again: it is long since we met. Poor Mrs. Tierney I she was a very good woman, but I never drew to her. Whom else do you expect?" "I believe the duke has invited Sir Thomas and Lady Fanshaw, and Count Jacopo Priuli, who is staying with them, and whom we met in Rome." "Ah," sighed Lady Emmeline, "that unsuitable mar- riage cannot end happily!" "Isolina, my dear," said Alice, "is it not past the children's bedtime? Do call them in from the garden, and ring for Dawhon:." "Poor old soul!" exclaimed Lady Emmeline. "I should have thought even Julia was quite beyond a nurse now. Do you really continue to give them in charge to her?" "Of course I do," said Alice, as she stood at the win- dow watching Isolina, who had taken advantage of her kind thought to escape when Lady Emmeline was ap- proaching a dangerous subject. "I consider Dawson perfectly competent, as well as worthy of all trust. But here are the children. Come, Madge, and kiss Aunt Emmeline." At this moment Dawson appeared at the door. She wore the same costume she! had been seen in since Alice's birth : her brown gown, snowy apron, and full-frilled cap close round her face, in contrast with the silk dress, chain, and fashionably-dressed hair or butterfly ISOL INA. -297 cap which distinguish the modern Abigail and housemaid. Lady Emmeline vouchsafed to bestow on her a nod some- what less ceremonious than she had bestowedion Isolina when she first/entered, though quite as cold. Mrs. Dawson returned it by a low curtsy, and the little girls, bidding them all good-night, disappeared with her. "Will you remain and dine with us, Emmeline-? I have no one with me this evening, except Miss Camelli." "Thank you. When you are alone, I shall be most happy. Mamma expects me to return to her: so the carriage is waiting. I only drove over to see how you all were." "I have something to say to Dawson, so I will bid you good-by, Lady Emmeline," said Isolina, making an excuse when she found herself in the way. "Good-by, Miss Camelli," said Lady Emmeline, again extending her two rigid fingers, and without rising from her seat. "I am very glad, my dear Alice," she con- tinued, as soon as Isolina had left the room,--"I am very glad that you are so well satisfied with Miss Camelli. I should hardly have thought her old enough to carry on the education of so very clever a) child as Madge; nor indeed -do I think any woman competent to undertake the whole responsibility of education---" "What do you mean, Emmeline? The duke and "My dear Alice, to think of my brother attending to such matters I he who has so many important affairs to engross his time and thoughts I I should have thought a clergyman " "If I consult any clergyman about my children, it shall be Mr. Bryant," said Alice, in a decided tone, for she was provoked at Lady Emmeline's persistence, which was always her way when determined to carry a point. "But he is in Florence, my dear." "He will not be there forever, I hope," replied Alice. "He will probably return to England next yeaT: quite time enough." "Mr. Bryant is a very worthy man," proceeded Lady Emmeline, after a pause, "but not- what I should call religious." N* page: 298-299[View Page 298-299]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 298-299 298 ISOLINA. "Not religious! Why, is he not a minister of religion? and who is so good a friend to all in need, so gentle, so kind?" "But he relies too much on his own merits,--on his own good'works," said Lady Emmeline. "How can you say so, my dear Emmeline?" exclaimed Alice. "There is no one living who thinks more humbly of himself than Mr. Bryant; and surely you do not deny the use of good works? Faith without works is dead 1" "That may be; but I trust you may one day learn, dear Alice, that you must not depend -on your own merits." "I did not say I depended on mine, did I?" said the duchess, petulantly. "Something very like it, when commending works in another, when speaking of a weak fellow-creature----" "Mr. Bryant is, at any rate, not weak," said Alice. "But here is Isolina to speak for him. She ought to know him better than I do. What do you think of Lady Emmeline accusing our dear old friend Mr. Bryant of weakness?" "Mr. Bryant weak!" exclaimed Isolina. "No, indeed. I never shall forget the support he always was to my mgther in her trials, and I know what is Lady Campbell's opinion of him. I never knew one so strong in goodness." "I have no doubt that he has been kind to you and your- mother, Miss Camelli," said Lady Emmeline, dis- pleased by Alice's appeal; "and it is very proper you should be grateful to your friend." "He has proved himself the kindest, the wisest, the best." "Is Mr. Bryant a married man?" asked Lady Emme- line, turning to her sister-in law, with a little mocking laugh. No," said Alice, quietly. "Why do you ask?" "I ask, because young ladies are not in general so very enthusiastic in the praise of a gentleman, and there may be feelings which ought to be allowed for." "Mr. Bryant is old enough to be my father," said Iso- lina; " and, whatever his age, Lady Emmeline, he has, at any rate, acted a father's part to me." "Age is no hindrance to love in some young ladies," ISOLIA. 299 proceeded Lady Emmeline, with a sneer, but accompa- nied by that placid look and manner in which spiteful natures display their own superiority of temper when they have provoked others to anger. "No offense, my dear Miss Caimelli," she added; "I did not, of course, mean anything particular. Your Italian blood is mounting to your cheeks. I should have thought that you" (and the you implied her sense of Isolina's humble position),-" that you would have considered my insinuation, if such you supposed it, an honor, rather than an insult."- "I am surprised, Lady Emmeline, that you can ven- ture to speak so to me 1"Isolina burst out, her eyes flashing with resentment. "Emmeline," interrupted Alice, "I cannot allow you to vex Isolina in this way." "I certainly had no intention to vex her. Mr. Bryant may be too old for her to think of him as a lover; but he enthusiasm with which she spoke his praises made me suppose it possible that she might be under the influence of warmer feelings than those of friendship. I am mis- taken; and I ask your pardon, Alice, for having occasioned this little disturbance." "Rather ask Isolina's." "Ask pardon of your children's governess'l Wfit are you thinking of, my dear?" said Lady Emmeline, haughtily. "I should -advise Miss Camelli to keep her temper better another time. It is for me, not her, to be offended." I beg, Emmeline' " "My dear Alice," Lady Emmeline continued, as Iso- lina ran out of the room, unable to listen to more, " you spoil that girl. It would be far more for her happiness to keep her in her place. In your attempt to raise her out of the sphere in which she was born, you forget your own dignity, your position as my brother's wife. "The dulke and I are able-to sustain our own dignity, without being admonished by you, Emmeline." "Well, well, don't be angry: you will think better of this to-morrow. It is getting late now, and I must go home. Why, Alice, you- don't look like yourself with page: 300-301[View Page 300-301]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 300-301 Q{UU .VuJLJlsv. that frown on your brow I Are we not sisters?" She had risen from her seat, and stooped to kiss the duchess, who, however, turn'ed away her cheek. "You are not going to quarrel with me? Come, come; that Miss Ca- melli, or Isolina, shall not be a cause of contention be- tween us. I forgiye all her impertinence. What can I say more? I shall next declare her to be the most en- chanting creature in the world; anything, rather than quarrel with you, my own dear little sister Alice. But I can't stay now; mamma is waiting for me at home; so good-by again." Alice suffered her kiss this time. She did not wish, if it were only for Isolina's sake, to quarrel with her. The sisters-in-law, therefore, parted apparently friends, and Lady Emmeline drove home with a sort of uneasy satisfaction at having succeeded in humbling Isolina. Alice, meantime, remained where she had left her, re- flecting over all that had passed between Lady Emme- line and herself. The door opened gently, and before she was aware that any other person was in the room, she felt Isolina's soft cheek on her hand. Looking down, she perceived her seated at her feet. "My dear, dear friend!"Alice said, sadly, "I did not think, when I asked you to be my children's governess, to expose you to so much rudeness." "Oh, Alice! I was wrong,--very wrong I I should not have taken what was perhaps meant half in jest so seriously. I should not have spoken with so much temper to Lady Emmeline." "It was very natural, Isolina." "Was- I not right when I once said to you that I doubted my own fitness for the sacred task of training children,-I, who have so little command over myself?" I do not remember your having said so; but, if you did, I do not even -ow agree to it." "It was that day when you came with Lady Elton to see us at the cottage. I wish I could take the world more as Lady Campbell takes it. This hot temper of mine makes me incapable, at the moment, of seeing things in their true light, or judging of others wisely as well as charitably. Besides, it is sinful." A, VL. f.^L V .. O.. "Surely you who acknowledge this will conquer the fault, if you have it.: But if those only are fit for the task of education who never give way to an ebullition of temper, however provoked, who would be worthy of being a mother? We can but do our best; and I am sure there is no one living to whom I would trust my children as I do to you, Isolina." CHTA PTER XTr. ( "Oh, could we do with this world of ours As thou dost with thy garden-bowers, Reject the weeds and keep the flowers, What a heaven on earth we'd make it!" . 1 * ,MOORE. THE duke returned to the castle, and Alice was too fully engaged for some time to appear in the school-room, except for a few minutes in each day. The dowager duchess and Lady Emmeline preceded the other expected guests, but the latter declared her intention of returning to Mr. Sherbrooke and her Sunday-school in a very few days. She was eager to have a private conversation with her brother, but no opportunity presented itself. The duke was immersed in business, and Lady Emmeline had to console herself that evening with a conversation with Mrs. Villiers, who came to her room after her mistress had sent her away for the night. Whatever Lady Em- meline might have hoped or desired, she derived small comfort from this interview. Mrs. Villiers soon per- ceived the humor of her listener, and she was not sorry to find a ready ear into which to pour her complaints or insinuations against Isolina. She reverted to the days at Florence, and, whilst describing Captain Mowhlray's frequent visits to her Grace, hinted that Miss Camelli had had the presumption to suppose herself an objett of his admiration, or at least, she added,."' Her Grace thought she did, and wished it; but, for my part, I don't think, my lady, the captain had -forgotten his first love, nor her 26 I* o page: 302-303[View Page 302-303]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 302-303 302 ISOLlINA. Grace neither; and I don't think it was prudent in his Grace to be always inviting him, as he did, to our apart- ment in the hotel. Her Grace would, I am sure, have liked to have made a match of it with Miss Camelli,and, of course, one like her would have jumped at it, anyhow. I hope you will forgive my frankness." It was too humiliating for Lady Emmeline to believe she could have a rival in Alice's governess; for, in spite of time, and notwithstanding Captain Mowbray had been married since she last saw him, she had not given up hopes. She preferred to believe that her sister-in-law had encouraged attentions meant for herself, rather than admit the pos- sibility of his marrying Isolina; and she therefore de- termined to put the duke on his guard, and thus perhaps prevent Captain Mowbray's visit. The second morning after her arrival, Lady Emmeline found herself alone at breakfast with her brother, for the duchess had a headache and did not appear, and the dow- ager never made her appearance until luncheon-time. As soon as the servants had gone their rounds with cold partridge, rolls, toast, butter, sweetmeats, eggs, coffee,' and tea, and had at last left the room, she began her at- tack, and, after hinting various doubts respecting Isolina, she proceeded: "I was almost surprised that Alice should have taken her as governess for her children. I know there was a romantic friendship between them when very young, and when Miss Camelli was the con- fidante of her " Lady Emmeline hesitated, for she saw by the duke's stare of affected dullness that he really perfectly understood what was coming, and that she was touching on dangerous ground; but she thought it best to go on. "Yes, my dear brother, the confidante of her childish attachment to Captain Mowbray." "Probably." "A confidante is a dangerous character." "Undoubtedly, in a play or a novel." "I am quite serious," Lady Emmeline continued. "Captain Mowbray was much with you in Florence; he is intimate with Mi!s Camelli, and you invite him down here to spend a week or a fortnight." "I do; and I beg leave to\ tell you, Emmeline, that I ISOLrNA. 303 will, ask whom I please to my house, that I am perfectly able to take care of myself and to protect my wife, and that I will suffer no such insinuations against the duchess, not even from you."' "I beg your pardon; I have done my duty. I shall say no more; but I should have thought it as necessary to-be cautious in the choice of your children's governess as in that of their nurse." "Certainly." "She is so young and pretty." "Very." "And cannot have had much experience in training children. How much harm, irreparable harm, might follow to little girls of the ages of Margaret and Julia by injudicious treatment, by levity, or by want of religious principle in a young person placed over them 1'1 "Great, no doubt; and I consider the duchess quite capable of guarding her daughters from any such risk." "But Alice is often absent; the children spend most of their time now with Miss Camelli." "I suppose this is as it should be at their ages. It is for this purpose the duchess has taken a governess." "Then, if I may be allowed to make such a remark, you admit Miss Camelli to the drawing-room as one of your friends,-a most unusual proceeding, to say the least of it." "I beg your pardon, Emmeline, I have a particular engagement, which will not allow me to remain here any longer; but I must request you will in future leave the duchess and me to arrange our own' family concerns without observations from you. I am aware that all you have said was well-intentioned, and so I thank you. I must also take this opportunity of acquainting you that the duchess has told me of your suggestion about a ' chaplain. I do not mean to have any such person at the castle, and I shall feel truly obliged if you will drop the subject." Lady Emmeline felt she had encroached too far, and that her recommendation of a chaplain had predisposed the duke to regard her remarks on Alice as well as on Isolina with little favor. She was hesitating whether to page: 304-305[View Page 304-305]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 304-305 304 ISOLINA. apologize or to be offended, when a message from the dowager duchess gave her an excuse to escape. Among the friends expected at the castle were two ladies who, with their children, brought their respective governesses. These ladies were sisters, cousins of the. Iduke, the Honorable Mrs. Taunton and Lady Jane Spence. They had each an only daughter nearly grown up, but at the age when a young lady is not yet consid-e ered out, and therefore not allowed to dine at table, and supposed to spend a few hours of each day in study.- As both young ladies were admitted to join the elder guests in rides and drives, as well as the evening amuse- ments, the duty of entertaining their governesses de- volved on Isolina. One of these,l the governess of Miss Taunton, to her surprise, if not pleasure, proved to be her cousitf, Victoria Carr; the other was a German lady, Fra-ulein von Gotzen, who, until this meeting, was as un- known to Miss Carr as to Isolina; but a sudden friend- ship immediately sprang up between the two, based on their equal grievances. The first offense Isolina gave was her abstaining from forming a third in the con- fidential colloquies which began between these ladies. Both were alike in their pretension and love of gossip; and -the task of entertaining them was a more severe one than Alice had any idea she was imposing on Isolina. Miss Carr, when last we heard of her, was on her way to London in search of a situation. After wearing out more than one pair of boots in walking over the town, and after having endured the mortification of presenting herself in vain to at least a dozen ladies, and having been cross- questioned and sent about -her business, after many a sleepless night and weary day of anxiety, she had been glad to accept her first situation at thirty pounds a year, on which she had toedress so as to appear like a lady, and pay back ,by installments to her father the money he had advanced during the interval. She did not give satisfaction. Two more situations, and the expense in- curred by lodgings and conveyances, consumed so large a sum that her father recalled her home, when, to her relief, Mrs. Taunton took a fancy to her appearance, and engaged her services at a salary of eighty pounds a year. ISOLINA. j305 Soon after this, however, the death of Mr. Oarr, of which Isolina had heard when she was abroad, obliged Victoria to contribute the greater part of her income to support her widowed mother and younger sisters. A worthless brother next came upon her for assistance, and little re- mained to enable her to dress as became a gentlewoman. With a heart sore from disappointments and mortifica- tions, with the anxieties for those at home to weigh down her -spirits, with a dismal prospect before her, from which nothing but a lucky marriage could save her, she was expected to bear with the daily trials and petty annoy- ances of a spoiled child, and be always cheerful and good- tempered. Human nature, but especially weak, vain, unphilosophical human nature, in the form of a pretty, silly, delicate woman, could not endure all this and escape the faults or vices produced by the circumstances. Miss Carr had the disagreeable manner, the touchiness and pride, attributed to governesses in general, and she ex- pected to make common cause with all fellow-sufferers. She found such in Fraulein von Goetzen, who was at least ten years her senior. This lady belonged to a younger branch of a noble German family. Her parents were too poor to give their children a liberal education, yet they would have thought itTa degradation to permit the marriage of any one of them with a gentleman con- nected with trade. After a hard struggle with poverty, it was decided that one of the daughters should become a governess in a foreign country. To England she came, with credentials from high-sounding personages, and a von before her name. Nobility, whether real or assumed, will make its way everywhere, except when .belonging to a governess: for her it is a serious incumbrance. How can anybody treat as an inferior one who bears that about her which all delight to honor? The problem at first appears insoluble; but Germany and Germans happened to be the height of fashion when Fraulein von GCotzen came to England, and, though not without some delay and difficulty, she found a situation, where she was about as miserable .as a life of solitude and petty mortifications could make her. As a foreigner, however, she received-more attention in society than generally 26* page: 306-307[View Page 306-307]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 306-307 306 ISOLINA. falls to the share of Englishwomen similarly placed; but, nevertheless, loneliness and neglect produced their natural result. She was sensitive, ready to imagine offenses, antagonistic with all the world around her, envious and discontented. She had left her first situa- tion to enter the house of a family of rank, wealth, and fashion. But Fraulein von Goetzen was not happy, and, except in having an excellent instructress in German, French, and music, her pupil was not likely to derive any advantage from the restless, ill-tempered woman who was appointed her guide and teacher. Isolina's gentle kindness and politeness were accepted by both ladies as their right, and her cousin, Miss Carr, even considered she had a claim for much more than mere kindness, on the score of relationship. As soon as they discovered her intimacy with the duchess, both began to regard Isolina as a sort of apostate or deserter from the injured corps to which she belonged. Various hints which they threw out to this effect were wholly lost on the object of them, as she was so much occupied with her own pupils and with her musical studies that she had only time for the ordinary civilities towards her guests; and as she knew that they spent a part of- each day with their respective pupils, and that they were well supplied with entertaining books for the remainder, as well as having the use of her piano and the free range of the garden and park, she supposed they had as much enjoyment as it was in her power to supply, and-she had no suspicion of the animadversions passed on her conduct. The evening before the day fixdd for the departure of the Tauntons and of Lady Jane Spence, Isolina, as usual, came in search of the two ladies, and found them in the garden in deep conversation, which they abruptly stopped upon her approach. "I am afraid that I interrupt you," said Isolina, gently. "Not at all, my dear," replied Miss Carr. "We were only saying that you were so very fond of her Grace." "Very: we have known each other since children." "It must be very nice to be intimate with duchesses," Miss Carr continued, in a simpering manner, and in a half-mocking tone. ISOLINA. 307 "I do not suppose that rank makes any difference be- tween friends," said Isolina, a little haughtily. "No, indeed,"- observed Fraulein von Gotzen, in re- markably good English, though with a strong German accent. "I am sure I was always in the first societe in Germany, and I knew no difference till I came here. I have not seen much of the duchess; but if she is at all like other English ladies, she will be very proud." Isolina was silent, and, after a few minutes' pause, attempted to change the subject. "With what part of Germany are you best acquainted, Miss Von Gotzen?" "With Prussia. I came from the vicinage of Magde- burg, where my family have reside from the time of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. We are of very old de- scent, I can assure you, as I was just telling Miss Carr. I therefore do feel it most ridiculous, the airs given me by some persons." "Yes, indeed," recommenced Victoria Carr; "and by the duchess, of all people, whose grandfather was a stocking-weaver, as I have been told." She lowered her voice at this imputation of a stain on the escutcheon of a noble family. "And yet she passed us in the park yester- day, in her pony-carriage, without so much as condescend- ing to look at us: just as if we were beneath her notice. We stopped and bowed, of course, but on she went. So different from the Countess of E , at M Park who is a real lady born, and who is. all amiability to everybody." "The duchess could not have seen you," said Isolina, "or she could not have known who you were. Perhaps you are not aware the road through the park is a thoroughfare, and open to everybody . Many pass that way." "Oh, she knew us perfectly," continued Miss Carr. "[ have no doubt that she can be very amiable when she chooses. Perhaps, too, she may have her reasons for being so gracious to you, though cutting us." "She seems, at any rate, to make you lead a very hard life;" remarked Fraulein von Goitzen. "'I would not undertake such children, who have no control. They page: 308-309[View Page 308-309]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 308-309 308 ISOLINA. are not like young ladies, to play games only fit for boys." i "My ideas of education may differ from yours," said Isolina. "I am sure, then, that the sister of his Grace, the Lady Emmeline, does not like your ideas, as I. overheard her say yesterday---" "Tell me nothing, pray," said Isolina. "I know Lady Emmeline -and her sentiments on education better than you can." "But she said also a great deal which concerns you, my dear Isolina," persisted Miss Carr; ," and I am sure it is right you should know " "Yes, indeed, "interrupted Fraulein von Gotzen. "Lady Emmeline -spoke very kindly, too, and said you were so good and clever, and all that sort of thing, only, as you were so young, it was a pity you did not take advice, and you were too indulgent to the little Lady Julia. Besides, she hinted about une affaire de coeur, so natural at your age, which might unfit you for your duty. Then, she replied, the duchess only like you so much be- cause a Capitain something, I forget the name, the duchess once liked herself, is enchants with you, or that you like him: all one; but, as the duke is jaloux, bad- temper, she, poor thing I wish to save herself t " "Fraulein von Gotzen 1" exclaimed Isolina, "this is" "Nay, my dear Miss Camelli, this was not all. She said the duchess wishes you to marry him, to make all smooth, as the duke does not like the old love business; and the Lady Emmeline got very angry, and told her to be silent, and " "You speak of two persons," said Isolina. "Who has been so impertinent " "Ah! I knew you would like to know all about it!" exclaimed, Miss Carr, in triumph. "It was Mrs. Villiers, the duchess's own maid, with whom Lady Emmeline spoke." ' "And can Lady Emmeline be so mean as actually to make a confidante of Mrs. Villiers? No I will not listen to any more of this abominable gossip." ' * ISOLINA. . 309 "Abominable gossip, indeed!" returned Miss Carr, her cheeks as red' now with anger as Isolina's with shame. "I am no more fond of gossip than yourself, Isolina; and if Fraulein von Gottzen was kind enough to put you on your guard against one who is evidently your enemy, your conduct is most ungrateful." "My room is next that of Lady Emmeline's," pro- ceeded Fraulein von. Gotzen, "and the door had been left by the house-maid by accident ajar. I could not help overhearing; and I must say, considering your great civilities to Miss Carr and myself, I thought I was only returning good for evil, by warning you of your danger." "I do not know what you mean," said Isolina, in astonishment. "Perhaps such manners are now the fashion, anfd that you are only following those of your friend the duchess," said Miss Carr, spitefully. "If you cannot drop this subject," continued Isolina, "I am afraid that you may have really cause to com- plain of my incivility." "You are not angry?" asked Miss Carr, beginning to be alarmed. "You won't betray us, at any rate?" "Betray you!" exclaimed Isolina, scornfully. "You do not suppose that I would repeat anything so misera- ble, so unworthy of a lady to have listened to and to have repeated But if you tell me any more of this scandal, which was not intended for you to have heard, I must go to the duchess and inform her that I decline the honor of entertaining you any longer." "So you would turn informer against the Fraulein and against your own cousin, Isolina!" said Miss Carr. "And who are you, that you should give yourself such airs of superiority?--the daughter of a player I If this Captain something is who I suspect, I have a notion that you would be too glad to take one brother when you can't get the other." "Miss Carr, my dear Miss Carr, you do not know what you speak!" said Fraulein von .G'tzen, as sahe per- ceived Isolina's countenance, who, pale and silent, stood before them, her mouth and eyes expressing contempt rather than anger. ' ' , - ' : page: 310-311[View Page 310-311]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 310-311 310 ISOLINA. , '.Turning from both ladies, she re-entered the house, and pulled the bell, without taking any notice of Miss Carr's attempt at an apology, or Fraulein von Gotzen's endeavors to restore peace. As the servant opened the door, Isolina ordered tea to be brought to the two ladies, as she meant to take hers in her own room; thent, turn- ing to them, she added, "I shall send to inquire if you have all you want. You leave the castle, I believe, to- morrow morning? Good-night, and good-by." And, so saying, she left the room, before either of them had time to reply. CHA:PTER XXXI. "When I hope to gain her, Fate seems to detain her: Could I but obtain her,: Happy should I be." THE ladies were assembled in the drawing-room of the castle after dinner. A large fire burned clearly on the bright hearth, and lamps and wax candles brilliantly illu- minated every corner of the room. Mrs. Herbert, grown still more embonpoint and her complexion rather redder than when last we met her, her fair hair sprinkled with gray, though still crowned with roses, sat in state upon a sofa. Her dress was of lilac satin, a Roman scarf fall- ing gracefully from her shoulders, whilst the diamond aigrette which was fastened to the bead-dress- matched the necklace, ear-rings, and brooch. She was painfully striving to engage the attention of the dowager duchess, who, seated by her side, dressed with equal magnificence, but plain in features, looked still plainer from the cross expression produced by a struggle with sleep. Lady Elton, always handsome, and attired in the best possible taste, was teaching little Lady Margaret to play at chess, whilst her sister Julia sat on Isolina's lap, watching the game. Alice and Beatrice Hervey stood behind her: chair, talking and laughing with the children, or con- ISOLINA. 3" versing with Isolina. If years were beginning to rob Beatrice of her youthful complexion and to diminish the round contour of her cheek, they-had improved her ex- pression, figure, and manner. Blushes and timidity are rare charms in young ladies of the nineteenth century, who from the age of five or six have been initiated in the dissipation of balls and flirtations. At five-and-twenty Miss Hervey, therefore, felt herself an old woman, who had seen, known, and experienced so much of life that its innocent amusements and the interests of new scenes, of art, and of nature had long since ceased to delight her. Wearied with thie monotony of a mere life of amusement, which soonest palls with those who, like Beatrice, are gifted with a warm heart and an active, energetic char- acter, there was a touch of misanthropy and bitterness in her jests, which told of disappointment; but there was no jealousy of others, no pining for excitement, such as had ended in fanaticism in Lady Emmeline. Beatrice was too really clever and good to sink to her level. Lady Fanshaw was looking over some engravings with Mabel Tierney and a group of other young girls. The contrast was striking between the total want of interest expressed in Elgiva's countenance, and the bright, intelli- gent, quiet face of Mabel. Thev were about the same age, as Mabel was a couple of years younger than Beatrice Hervey; she had been left motherless at the age of fourteen, with the charge of five little brothers and sisters, and cares had thus come prematurely upon her. Her good, affectionate father had lightened them so far as lay in his power; and Mabel, wholly occupied with j the superintendence of her home, with endeavors to make her father happy, and with an earnest desire to improve her own talents, had considered visits to friends and an occasional ball as amusements, not the business of her life. Perhaps there were few girls of- two-and-twenty so young and fresh in their feelings, or so happy, as Mabel Tierney. Yet she was not invulnerable; and, calm as she looked, there was a little flutter at her heart as the door of the drawing-room opened, and the gentlemen, among whom was the Hon. Frederick Mowbray, entered. Lady Fanshaw pushed back her'chair, and her face lighted up page: 312-313[View Page 312-313]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 312-313 312 ISOLINA. with its most winning smile, -as Count Jacopo Priuli glided to a seat on the sofa just behind her, and asked her an indifferent question, but- in so soft and mysterious a manner as to awaken curiosity, which was doomed to disappointment. Sir Thomas Fanshaw at once singled out Isolina, and, advancing towards her, with the ease and frankness of an old friend, held out his hand: she could not refuse hers, and, after inquiring about her health, he insisted on taking Lady Elton's place at chess with Lady Margaret. Isolina, however, moved away, and followed Beatrice Hervey to the piano. Beatrice had just been asked to sing, and she complied with the utmost readiness and good nature, enlivening the party by a Neapolitan air, sung with great sprightliness. Captain Mowbray, who professed himself particularly fond of this style of music, begged for more, and joined her in a duet, after which Mabel Tierney was invited to give her contribution. She looked miserably shy, and, opening her portfolio, sought for some minutes in vain for the song she thought she could sing best. Beatrice kept up a rattling fire of lively repartee with Captain Mowbray to- pass the time, and Isolina offered her assistance to Mabel. They were joined by Frederick Mowbray, who drew song after song from the portfolio, sure that each and every one was that particular song he remembered hearing before and wished to hear again. Mabel was every minute more nervous; people seemed to be gradu- ally becoming silent in expectation of her performance, and she felt herself always further from discovering what she wanted to find. Isolina at last found the song, and offered to accompany her. The offer was thankfully ac- cepted, but Mabel sang less correctly, and more tremu- lously, than usual. Her father looked distressed, and, approaching the piano, asked her if that was a new piece of music. "Oh, no, papal" said Mabel, growing redder than ever: "you have heard it a hundred times; only I sang it very ill:" "' Then you must sing it over again," said Frederick Mowbray. "No, no," said Beatrice, -playfully: "that won't do. 1SOLINA.. 313 But if you will let Miss Tierney join in this trio with Captain Mowbray and me, and Miss Camelli will be good enough to accompany us, we think we shall be very successful." "By all means," replied Mr. Mowbray, as he slipped into a- chair just behind Isolina, so as to be able to con- ' verse with her, unobserved. Mabel's sweet, clear voice, in an air with which she was. perfectly familiar, gave, this time, its usual pleasure; and Beatrice's good nature had enabled her to recover her composure. Frederick Mowbray was most profuse in his thanks and compli- ments, and devoted a whole quarter of an hour to Miss Tierney, whose good, bright face became every instant happier. After one or two others had sung, it became Isolina's turn to be asked, and Mr. Mowbray produced a sonbg he had long before selected from her portfolio. She smiled as she took it, for she recollected an old favorite of his, associated with very y6ung days. Simple as it was, her rendering of the English ballad, without orna- ment, and with every word distinctly spoken, and her perfect command of voice, made the music a real accom- panimqnt to the poetry, and charmed her hearers. Count Jacopo left Elgiva and stole up to the piano to recognize Miss Camelli and offer his congratulations. Beatrice and Captain Mowbray, with the group gathered round her, were in raptures, Mabel in tears, and Frederick enjoyed a silent triumph. Mrs. Herbert remarked to the dowa- ger that Miss Camelli had a very fine voice, though, for her part, she preferred Italian music; the duke nodded his approbation, and began upon the Corn Law to his next neighbor; whilst Lord Elton clapped with all his might, and followed Alice to .the piano to thank the song- stress. -A cloud, however, sat upon Lady Elton's brow. She saw-how could she not see?-'her son Frederick lean- ing over Isolina's chair and whispering soft nothings in her ear; she saw Isolina looking happy and gay, and even more than usually lovely; and she sat restless, unable to move, for the duke, who was addressing his jphilippic on the Corn Law to a gentleman next Lady Elton, had included her in his audience. At length he paused; o 27 ( page: 314-315[View Page 314-315]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 314-315 314 ISO0,INA. :L elamncand, taking the orator rather by surprise, she started up, f . exclaiming,- "Your Grace must allow me to ask Miss Camelli to sing a little Italian air I am exceedingly fond of, and which I have not heard her sing this age.". "Certainly," replied the duke. And, offering herhis arm, he led' her to the piano, where he requested the pleasure in Lady Elton's name. Frederick rose from his chair a s his mother approached. Lady Elton informed him there was a fine picture at the farther end of the room, on which she desired to have his opinion; but he replied that he could see it better in the morning light, and took a seat on the other side of Isolina. Lady Elton's choice of a song was even more popular than the first, and another and another were called for. She was thus foiled in her scheme for inducing her son to leave -the piano, and appeared rather to have riv- eted him to the spot. The-evening was already far advanced, when Isolina, catching a glimpse of the watch on the -chimney-piece, prepared to leave the room. The seat at the piano was taken by Beatrice, as she had offered to play- a series of airs from an opera which was a great favorite of Lady Elton's, who praised at random, and tried to affect ex- treme ,delight, whilst observing Frederick, who had risen as Beatrice began, and had followed Isolina to that very picture he had refused to look at when requested by his mother. He now stood before it, in admiration not so much of the work of art as of the lady w ho was appar- ently discussing its merits with him. The time passed so pleasantly for them both, that a full half-hour elapsed before their conversation ended. Lady Elton had noted it by the watch, whilst Beatrice, unconscious of the ab- straction of her listener's mind, played on. No sooner had she finished, than the duke, eager to show Lady Elton a curious old engraving, which an hour before she had expressed a curiosity to see, arrested her progress across the room, and the dowager duchess stopped her once again, to make some empty remarks, in the slow, pompous manner which the duke her son 'had inherited from her. With wonderful self-command, Lady Elton * ' IS OLNL A. endured this torture and gave no sign. Not so Mabel Tierney, who had likewise watched Frederick Mowbray and Isolina, and whose fallen countenance would have *betrayedc her pain, if any one had thought about her. The pleasure she had enjoyed of her little quarter of an hour had been greatly diminished. Isolina could not but suspect the cause of Lady Elton's stiff good-night in the passages where the ladies assem- bled, candles in hand, before dispersing to their several rooms. She wished she could have assured her that she might sleep in peace; that there was-no cause for her fears; and that if she could have heard the conversation of her son,-his grave, dry discussion on the merits of music and painting, art and artists, so far from anything ap. proaching love,-she would have been perfectly satisfied. Isolina's own heart was all the time yearning for more kindness from one who seemed to have almost forgotten her so cold, so indifferent I She was envying Beatrice Hervey Captain Mowbray's very lively conversation; whilst she, who had seen him daily in Florence, who had parted with him impressed with an idea she had vainly struggled against, that he took a warmer interest in her than mere friendship, saw him now devoted to another, and he had only alluded with the most ordinary civility. or humanity to the fever by which she might have lost her life in Leghorn. There was another who regarded George Mowbray's flirtation with"Beatrice with hardly less pain. Lady Emmeline, had sat gloomily in a corner of the sofa all the evening, having retired" to her room after dinner for at hour to avoid the conversation of the ladies, but re- turned soon after the gentlemen. She hardly vouchsafed a grateful smile for the good-humored assiduity of the Reverend Mr. Sherbrooke, who regarded her as a most exemplary middle;:aged woman, his friend and his patron- ess, and who vainly started subjects such as usually interested her, to receive in return an absent look or snappish reply. She was wholly unconscious how very much plainer she appeared with that dark, jealous scowl upon her face. Nor was Beatrice, either, very happy, for she had moved page: 316-317[View Page 316-317]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 316-317 316 ISOLINA. long enough in society to discern that Captain Mowbray devotion to her that evening was not real, and that hi thoughts, and even his eyes, were frequently in anothE direction; but she was disposed to play a generous par Time and hard experience had fortified her heart sore what against love, or rather against falling in love; an a comfortable, settled home and establishment was moi her aim now than-an adoring lover; yet ever since tl fortnight at Florence, George Mowbray's fascinations ha nearly overcome this wise resolution, and had disturbe the peace she hoped to have finally obtained. As Isolina entered her own room that night and place her candle on the table, she burst into tears. "He hb not spoken three words to me this evening. How coul I be so foolish 1" she murmured, half aloud, and started i a gentle knock at the door announced Alice. "I cannot stop a minute, Isolina; but I came to wis you good-night. In tears!" she exclaimed, as she kissc her cheek. "You must have patience. I am sure th1 he loves you." "Who? Alice--not-- " "Yes, George: Captain Mowbray." "How? Impossible!" "We shall see; but I think I know him too well mistake the meaning of a few words he spoke to me t day, or to doubt his look and manner." "Do not encourage me in vain thoughts, dearest Alic I He has not spoken one word to me this evening. I hb better try not to think at all about him." s "But do not, then, encourage his brother, Isolina." "Encourage Mr. Mowbray I How can you suppos Alice, that he could ever think of such as I am but as kind elder brother may think of a sister? And I believe am even presumptuous to say that; for is he not Lo Elton's son and heir? and is it not taken as a matter course that he will marry wealth and rank? Though i: am sure he will combine this with goodness, for I do n know a kinder, better nature than his. He almost nc treats me like a little girl, with his advice, and praise, a finding fault. It is quite absurd, almost painful, for i to suppose any other relation possible; and this made i , ISOLINA. 31 so indignant with Lady Elton formerly. He talked to me to-night just in the old way." "Well, take care." "Perhaps I had better not co"me to the drawing-room to-morrow evening." "That would be marked, so long as your old friends are here, for whom you are invited. Yes, come; only be cautious how you behave." "But Lady Elton looked so displeased." "I am not surprised at that, if she does not wish Fred: erick to marry you. -I should not say this, if I did not know your own heart was quite safe in that quarter." "Oh, Alice I I will try to turn my thoughts to other things." ".Do so, dear Isolina; and I believe you will succeed. You have done so before; and every effort gives us- strength for a succeeding effort, as I know well from ex" perience: it is always less painful. Good-night: I must go; good-night." And she kissed Isolina with even more than her usual affection. In that lordly castle how many laid their heads on their pillows that night, weary and disgusted, who, an hour before, had seemed all vivacity and enjoyment I How truly is our kingdom within, not without I And we can each of us make or unmake our own heaven. CHAPTER XXXTI. "How happy will the shepherd be Who calls this nymph his own! Oh, may her choice be fixed on me, Mine fixed on her alone!" AFTER Isolina had finished the lessons ,the following morning, she started with her pupils for their usual walk in the park. It was a fine autumnal day; the leaves had begun to form a yellow carpet below the trees, and the two little girls in their scarlet cloaks ran and skipped, or 27* page: 318-319[View Page 318-319]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 318-319 318 ISOLfA. tried to catch them as they were raised and whirled round by the wind. Isolina was sensitive to cold, and she walked briskly on, wrapping her mantle close round her. The ladies of the party staying at the castle were all riding or driving in various directions, and she sup. posed that the gentlemen had gone out shooting. She was therefore surprised when she was overtaken by Frederick Mowbray. M"Why, Miss Camelli, I thought I never should have reached you I Those scarlet cloaks were my guides," he said, pointing to the children. "The wind is so cold that I am glad to keep pace with my pupils in their race," replied Isolina. -"But I thought you were with the shooting-party, Mr. Mowbray?" "I never was a sportsman. I leave that to my brother, and prefer a walk with you, if you will allow me." Isolina paused. :"We are such old friends, that I am sure you will not be offended at my frankly telling you that when I am occupied with my little charges I must deny myself this pleasure. We are on our way, too, to visit an old, sick woman, which would be no amusement to you; and, if we are not to be too late at home, we must hasten on." With a smile and a bow, she bade him farewell, and was soon out of sight. Frederick Mowbray knew that there was no coquetry in Isolina, and that, though he was-a prize to be bid for by half the young ladies in fashionable society, she had no idea of him beyond an old friend. He hoped, he be- lieved, he had made some impression on her heart; but her very insensibility to the nature and strength of his affection, which had revived after a separation of a whole year, stimulated him the more to love and win her. An occasion is seldom wanting, if sincerely desired. The following afternoon the rain fell heavily, and discon- certed the plans of all the party for the day, and among others those of Frederick Mowbray, who hoped to have found a better time and opportunity to speak alone with Isolina. The gentlemen, being about the billiard-rooill and library, consulted the barometer, and at length re- sorted to battledoor and shuttlecock in the hall with some of the young ladies. When tired, they returned to- the -!ISOLINA. 319 drawing-room, where Isolina's assistance was desired at the piano. A messenger was sent to the school-room, where, her duties being ended, she was not required to remain; and accordingly she readily complied, and was gratefully welcomed by all the young party assembled, whilst Lady Elton, who was looking over drawings in a portfolio, turned round, and added, graciously,- "This is very good-natured of you, Miss Camelli." She never called her - Miss camelli" when Isolina was in favor, and the formality was perfectly understood to mean that she was not to consider herself one of the partv, but that her services' were solely professional. She sat down, however, with her usual bright smile, to accompany a quartette, to which the vocal performers certainly could not do justice; but she threw herself into the spirit of the hour, when music was only an excuse for lively sallies and laughter. The conversation turned upon balls, concerts, and the races, and Elgiva astonished Isolina by her acquaintance with the merits of horses Allusions to facts and incidents unknown to her rapidly succeeded one another, whilst she sat at the piano, run ning her fingers over the keys. "Your patience is not a little tried, I think," said Count Jacopo, addressing her; "but you are blessed wit[ an unusual share of that virtue. I see it in your smile.' "You are wrong there, Count Priuli," she replied "I am a very impatient person: so it is right I shoulh now and then undergo a little discipline.'" Before he could pay her another compliment, Isolin: was called upon for an accompaniment; but she was again stopped by the renewal of a discussion on the merit of races in general, Mabel Tierney having quote( an opinion of Mr. Bryant's unfavorable to the practice. "I am sure," said Beatrice Hervey, "his opinion i not worth much on that subject, my dear. He is a regula old fogy." "I do not know what you mean," persevered Mabel who, in spite of her tiresome blushes, which would ris to her cheeks and forehead, ahd which she feared migh be supposed to proceed from her being ashamed of he authority, rather than a physical weakness over whic page: 320-321[View Page 320-321]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 320-321 --" lJUL/T/A. she'had no control,-"I do not know what you mean, but I think he was right, and that races are not only cruel to the poor horses, but demoralizing to the men who ride them, and to the men and women who gamble away their money by betting on them." "And pray who may this wise friend be?" asked Elgiva, with a toss of her head and with a contemptuous smile, as she fixed her eyes boldly on Mabel's face. "Oh, did you never meet Mr. Bryant, Elgiva?", asked her sister. "You had a happy escape, then, from one of the most darling, tiresome old bores you can imagine." "Thank Heaven " exclaimed Elgiva, with mock gravity. "Were you ever at a race, Miss Tierney?" asked Lieu- tenant Hervey. "No, never 1" said Mabel "Never been at a race"1- exclaimed a chorus of voices "'Then you cannot form an independent opinion on the subject," said Beatrice; " and I can assure you that all this talk about races being demoralizing, and so forth, is utter nonsense. When you have seen a little more of the world, you will be convinced that it is racing, and hunting, and such sports, which make Englishmen what thee are. " "And what are they so very different fro bher people?" asked Mabel, gently, but in a tone whih did not imply much respect either for Beatrice or her asser- tions,-for she had been a little nettled by being treated like-an ignorant child. Why, every one knows said Beatrice, looking round for approbation as she spoke, "that English men. and: English horses are superior to all the men and horses in the world." She forgot for a moment the presence of Count Jacopo Priuli, who gave a meaning smile and sign to Elgiva not to remind her. Beatrice herself, however, recollected and turned to apologize; but, before she had done so, a small, pink-eyed, pale-faced little gentleman of the party called out, " Well said, Miss Hervey i" "' Everybody knows?', asked Mabel' doubtfully. 'Everybody-whose opinion is worth having," said M r. Hervey, backing up his sister. o . ISOLIzNA. 321 a"Can you doubt it?" asked Lord Elton, who had joined the group and enjoyed a joke against innocent little Mabel. "This is not- very complimentary to us, Miss Tierney. . "I did not mean--" began Mabel. '"Not quite fair, sir," interposed Frederick Mowbray: "a young lady is surely entitled to hold an opinion with- out being supposed to mean any allusion to the present company." Mabel felt so gratified at her champion, as well as at his defense, that she could more easily forgive the rudeness with which she had been treated. "I suspect there has been some interesting foreigner," continued Lord Elton, who liked to make a y g lady blush. "Too bad, Lord Elton!" said Beatrice, who wished to eat in a few of her words, and who began to think they had gone a little too far, and therefore came to the rescue:- "you will not allow us poor women to .be capable of forming an impartial opinion on anything." bo"I should be sorry to think you did when I stand before your tribunal." And, so saying, Lord Elton made a bow, and, sauntering to the window, sighed over the hopeless state of the weather, and then walked slowly out of the room. "But what further objection could Mr. Bryant- urge against races, Miss Tierney?" persevered Mr. Hervey, who- loved quizzing and never knew when to stop in *II i anything. "Those parsons always run down what they cannot themselves enjoy." "Not Mr. Bryant," said Isolina, coming to MabeP's support. "Perhaps you do not approve of field-sports either, Miss Camelli?" "I have not thought much on the subject; but if, as I cannot help believing, they lead to cruelty and gambling, I cannot see in what way they conduce to manliness of character, which is, I suppose, their only ground of'de- fense; and therefore I am inclined to believe my old friend is in the right." "Of course you have had many opportunities of hearing the subj:cl ar Hed," said .Elgiva, pertly. O* , . . . page: 322-323[View Page 322-323]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 322-323 I 322 . ISOLINA. "And does Mr. Bryant?" continued her brother, ad- dressing Mabel again,--" does Mr. Bryant also agree with you on the general inferiority of Englishmen?" i "I never said they were inferior," replied Mabel. "No," proceeded Isolina: "you said that Englishmen were not superior; and Hthink that history, in spite of the' advantages England has enjoyed by her insular posi- tion, would bear yqu out." "Bravo I bravissimo!" exclaimed Count Jacopo, clap- ping his hands; "you are a gallant champion to the rescue, Miss Camelli." And he added, in a low voice, aside to Isolina, "But I fear you prefer England, if not Englishmen, to another land and people." She started; for she had never: before heard him allude to what she knew he must be aware of,-her grandfather's wish for her to live in Italy; but before she could make any remark in reply he had left her side. "Will you allow me to come to your school-room and take a lesson, Miss Camelli?" asked Mr. Hervey, with mock gravity. "Perhaps you may require a more experienced master,' replied Isolina, equally serious. "I do not yet feel myself quite competent to teach an Englishman how to become a gentleman." After a moment's pause, during which Lieutenant Hervey-looked foolish, and Mabel could not suppress a smile, Beatrice broke forth,- "You deserve it, Arthur." "Not fair, Beatrice," observed her brother; and, turn- ing on his heel, he retreated from the room. "Let us have some more music," said Frederick Mowbray. "Will Miss Camelli favor us with another song?" "Pray do," echoed several voices. "I should have thought that we had had discord enough to put an end to all harmony for to-day," said Elgiva from the table, where she had joined Lady Eltoni to turn over the productions of Mulready and Copley Fielding. "I must beg for one more song," said Lady Elton, leaving her portfolio to join the young people at the^ rISOLINA. 23 piano. "Miss Hervey, will you sing that little Italian air you charmed us all with last night?" "Oh, that old thing, Lady Elton!" replied Beatrice "but you have heard it fifty times." "You can accompany yourself, cannot you?'" Isolina rose, -and Beatrice took her place, Once seated at the piano, she was not easy to move again, and of this Lady Elton was aware; one by one the other performers and listeners dropped off, until Lady Elton and Isolina were left as- sole audience. Even Frederick Mowbray bad disappeared; he had gone to- the library in search of a book, and now, deeply immersed in a work on German philosophy, he sat in the bay-window, concealed by the heavy folds of the curtain, so that not one of the three was aware that he had returned to the room. Beatrice was at last tired of her own music, and, as there was a gleam of sunshine, she proposed to take a turn in the garden with Lady Elton before dressing for dinner. Isolina, supposing herself alone, sat down again to the piano, and began singing one of her favorite songs. She sang with more power and expression even than usual, and, absorbed in the music, was surprised, as she concluded; by the voice of Frederick Mowbray from behind the curtain. He closed his book, and advanced -towards her. "Beautiful Isolina,; that is music,-worth all the trash I have listened to this morning, as much as you yourself are worth all this dark, mystical philosophy. I am so glad you checked that fellow's impertinence," he added, in a lower voice, as he seated himself beside her. "I am afraid I was rather impertinent myself; but he provoked me." "I cannot bear to see you exposed to such insolence; from those, too, who are really your inferiors." "Thank you; I must take the world as I find it. I have learned a little philosophy, which you," she added, smiling, and pointing to tie volume in his hand, "ought to know better than I." "This does not teach me much of the philosophy of this world, Isolina. I can learn more from life itself; but 1, page: 324-325[View Page 324-325]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 324-325 5d24 IULIljA M life is a painful school, and I am Epicurean enough o avoid pain wherever I can. There is something so dis- gusting in the worldliness of men and women of fashion. I know only one woman who has passed through the fire unscathed, and that is my dear aunt; and you, Isolina, have had the advantage of her example and instruction, or rather of the wholesome influence of one who adds to the freshness and faith which are the privilege of youth, the patience and toleration which can only be acquired in riper years." "There is no one like her!" exclaimed Isolina. "Except her adopted daughter. If I could ever hope to persuade her to consent to be my adviser and guide in life, if I might be permitted to shield her from its bitter lessons, she would teach me a better philosophy than my books. You are silent, Isolina: you cannot misunder- stand me?" "You have always been a kind and true friend to me," said Isolina, in a tremulous voice, "since I came, a poor, little, dependent girl, to your father's house." "My father loves and appreciates you, and he would not blame me for loving you as I do and for offering you my hand and heart." Isolina was again silent for a few moments; tears of gratitude and affection filled her eyes, although she knew she had not the love to give which he deserved. She held out her hand to him; but, before he could accept this as a sign of her consent, she spoke, softly but firmly: "My dear, generous friend, forgive me if I have mis- taken your feelings to me. Believe me that I am not proud in my humility; that, whilst well aware of the light in which my poverty, my position, is regarded by the world, and the sacrifice you therefore offer me-- " "Not sacrifice, Isolina. I should think myself hon- ored by receiving you as my wife: Speak to me as your equal, your inferior,-as woman to man when his fate hangs on her lips, when he depends on her word for his happiness."' "I will speak to you truly, frankly," said Isolina. "I do respect, regard, love you, but as a friend,-no more; -ISUOL,^A. 325 not as I must love one I should marry. Have I spoken words to hurt you? If I have, I shall suffer too." Perhaps, Isolina, you do not know how the devotion of my life would create the love you have not yet learned to feel. I do not ask from you more than the regard, the affection, you say you have for me. I have not deserved more; perhaps when I can prove myself more worthy----" "It is not that, Mr. Mowbray: you misunderstand me. H " She could speak no more, but fairly burst into tears. "Dearest Isolina, I will have patience; only let me hope--" "No, no, no 1 If I gave you hope, H should be deceiving you, whom I so respect, so honor, so more than regard. I should be perhaps deceiving myself." "You love another, then, Isolina. You do not speak, but I see it in your eyes, in your blushes. You are, in- deed, incapable of deceiving me or any one; but I have deceived myself; rather, I hoped against hope. Your 'secret is safe with me. Yes," he added, after a pause, in a tone of bitterness, "I might have known it; you J are right,-right to prefer him. I know his noble nature, -more deserving of you than I am. May he prove himself worthy of -such a treasure . But I must leave this place; I must try to forget the hopes I had cher- ished. Some day I may again feel to you as to a sister." Isolina had buried her face in both hands; but the tears trickled between her fingers. For a moment she felt that she might have mistaken her own feelings, that she, helpless and alone in the world, was rejecting a love so disinterested, a heart so honest, for a mere dream. Her hands dropped into'her lap as she raised her eyes, full of affection, to his. He was kneeling at her feet, and, seizing her hands in both of his, he pressed them pas- sionately to his lips, and whispering, "Farewell, we shall meet again, happen--" he, the next instant, quitted the room. "Isolina thought herself alone, but a rustling sound behind her made her look round, and, standing at an page: 326-327[View Page 326-327]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 326-327 826 ISOLINA. opposite door, she perceived Lady Elton, pale, almost livid, with rage. "Miss Camelli, she said, in a voice hoarse from emo- tion, "I should be obliged if you would follow me. I wish to have some conversation with you, and this is too public a place for a private interview." She turned to go up-stairs, and Isolina mechanically followed. Not a word was spoken as they entered Lady Elton's room. She deliberately took a chair and mo- tioned to Isolina to close the door and sit down opposite to her. There were signs of preparations to dress for dinner, and the lady's-maid might be expected shortly to make her appearance. Lady Elton accordingly rang the bell, gave her maid orders to employ her time, added that she did not wish to be interrupted for half an hour, and dismissed her. This interval seemed interminable to Iso- lina; yet when the door closed she felt like a criminal before her judge, and she wished the woman had remained a little longer. "Isolina," began Lady Elton, in an imperious tone, whilst endeavoring to repress the violence of her. feel- ings,--"Isolina, you must be aware that from your early childhood, from the time I was first led to take an interest in you, I have been vour true friend." Isolina did not reply. "I therefore feel it my duty to warn you against ac- cepting attentions from those whom you can never aspire to- as an equal. You have already bad a painful experi- ence to what this -may lead. I hoped the lesson would not have been in vain; but when a young person allows the freedom, to which I was just now a witness, from one who, I regret to think it,* is my own son, I con- sider it my duty to warn you against all expectation of his making you his wife. Your subsistence, as well as that of your poor mother, greatly depends on the strict propriety of your conduct; and you have to be the more guarded here, where the Duchess of Pedantmere, from the kindest, though I think the most mistaken, motives, allows you to be treated in a manner aihd to occupy a place which may lead you to forget who and what you -re." ISOLINA. 32 Whilst Lady Elton was speaking, Isolina had recov- ered her self-possession. She felt that she had Frederick Mowbray to Justify as well' as herself, and she spoke calmly and with dignity: "I am well aware, Lady Elton, that I am no match for the heir of Lord Elton, and that the fatherless girl to whom he and you have been so generous, and who owes all -she most prizes to his sister, would do wrong had she attempted to gain the affections of your son-for purposes of worldly ambition; bdt I cannot be surprised that you, who could so mistake him, should not yet have learned to know me." "What do you mean, Isolina?" "I mean that your son has just now offered me his hand in marriage; that the kind and, I may say, brotherly interest which I believed was all he ever honored me with, he now tells me is a love I do not feel I deserve,- not because I am poor and lowly born, but because I do not find that in myself which would merit such pure, such disinterested affection. Grateful as I am, therefore, I cannot return his love, and I have refused his offer." Lady Elton breathed again, though she could hardly believe Isolina; but her satisfaction hurried her into an apology: -"I beg your pardon, my dear; I confess I wronged you,-that I underrated your sense, your prudente. How could I suppose that a girl of your age and in your situ- ation could refuse so brilliant an offer? I trust you may one day be rewarded by a more suitable marriage with one more likely to make you happy."' "You must not misunderstand me, Lady Elton. I repeat that I do feel grateful, and that I know how to value the noble affection of your son, who has ever acted to me a brothet's part." Lady Elton wincediunder the equality implied in the word. "But," continued Isolina, "I did not refuse him- because he is the heir to a title, whilst my parents moved in a humbler sphere. I cofi- sider that I am as truly a lady as he is a gentleman, and the sympathies which spring from education and the refinements of life have, as I imagine, made us equal. I refused him, therefore, for no such vulgar reason; I re- page: 328-329[View Page 328-329]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 328-329 Ut f0 JA .LJ LJ LV T .l. fused him because I could not love him as the wife of so good, so noble a being ought to love." "Isolina," said Lady Elton, scornfully, "you should really follow your father's profession: you would make quite a sensation on the stage." , The sneering tone, even more than the words spoken, at a moment when Isolina's feelings had been wrought up to an unusual excitement, filled her cup to the brim. She started to her feet, with flashing eyes and pale lips apart, and, drawing up her tall figure to its full height, she stood motionless. Lady Elton did not quite like a look she had not before seen in her, but she nevertheless continued: "Whatever it may be in the romance or the drama, Isolina, it is generally supposed that marriages out of the sphere in which Providence has placed us are rarely admissible, and still more rarely happy: so now do not let me have any more of these heroics. Fred- erick behaved very foolishy, and, between him and the duchess, I think your head has been wellnigh turned. As you have refused him, there is nothing more to be said, especially as you confess there was no attachment on your side to cause you any misery. Why, it is past seven," she added, looking at her watch; "and I shall want my maid." Isolina moved towards the door. "Isolina," she called,-"Isolina, my dear child, let us be friends. You will not.? Go, then : go to your room. I suppose you do not mean to appear again this evening, I shall see you to-morrow, when, I hope, you will have come to your senses, and will know who it is has your interest most at heart. I hear Lord Elton's foot on the stairs." Isolina turned slowly, and, as she opened the door, she met Lord Elton face to face. "My child!" he exclaimed, in his usual kindly voice, "what has happened?" She tried to reply. The answer seemed to suffocate her. He drew hbr gently to him and kissed her as of old, and as if to coax her to tell him her trouble; but she only burst into tears, and, disengaging herself from him, she rushed from the room, leaving Lady Elton to tell her story. ISOLINA. 329 "Frederick has had the folly to propose to Isolina, and she has very sensibly refused him," said Lady Elton, as soon as they were alone. "By Jove! he has?" exclaimed Lord Elton, standing still, as if struck with amazement. "He might seek far before meeting with such another girl. It is a pity that Isolina is not better born." "As it is, the thing is of course out of the question," said Lady Elton, looking rather annoyed. "Isolina will soon get over it, for, happily, she does not care for him at all." "I do not understand her tears," said Lord Elton, "if she does not care for Fred." "I do not mean to say her heart has not been touched. I believe we have all been imprudent. You should never have consented to Ellinor's plan of a cottage near the Pines for Mrs. Camelli.'" "But now, what is to be done?" "Leave things to time. Isolina cannot in any delicacy see Frederick again, now that she has refused him; and it will all pass off., I think, however, that it would be as well for you to say a few words to Fred." "What could I say?" asked Lord Elton. "I leave that to you. Only convince him of his folly in thinking of Isolina." "I can hardly do so, when I don't think it folly." "Then speak to him of the duties of his position, his duty to himself, to his family." Lord Elton was silent a moment. "I think I had better leave it alone." "Then you oblige me to speak." "By no means. On the contrary, I desire that you will not speak," said Lord Elton. "You surely would not have- had Frederick marry Isolina?" exclaimed Lady Elton. "No: she has refused him, and there is an end of it. I, honor him for his disinterested attachment to one so good, so high-principled. I honor her for her refusal. It would only do harm to speak at all. Leave it, as you yourself advised, to time." page: 330-331[View Page 330-331]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 330-331 830 ISOLINA. CHAPTER XXXIII. "My heart was hot and restless, And my life was full of care, And the burden laid upon me Seemed greater than I could bear."' "ONGFELLOW. CAPTAIN MOWBRAY was striding homewards from a y long walk in the rain, when he met his brother Frederick hurrying towards him. "Why, Fred, where are you bound?" he asked; " and what is making you run at the rate of ten knots an, hour?" "Turn back with me, George; I must have a few words with you." And Frederick slipped his arm into that of his brother. "We shall have a ducking if we do; I am wet enough already. Don't you see how the scud is flying?"And George looked up at the clouds moving rapidly over their heads. "It's a regular southwester." "That may be; but I must speak with you, and I don't know how to catch you alone in that house full of company." "Well, a sailor ought not to mind a little water, though fresh does not agree quite so well as salt; but as to you landlubbers,\ I believe you will melt like sugar under such a down-pour as this: so, as I must confess that I should not object to change my clothes, I propose that we adjourn to my room, and there I can hear all you have to say. But, my dear fellow," he added, pausing a moment to look at him, "I hope you are in no serious trouble: if you are, you may rely on no one being more ready to help you, to the utmost of his ability, than my- self." ' I am sure of it," said Frederick. And the brothers walked in silence to the house. "And now, Fred, what is it? Nothing very bad, I ISOLINA'. 331 hope?" asked George, as they seated themselves before the fire, secure from all interruption. "Out with it." "I have made an offer of marriage, and have been refused." "The deuce you have I I did not believe there was a girl in the United Kingdom who would have refused the future baron, the heir of thirty thousand a year, not to mention such an honest fellow and accomplished gentle- man as you are, Fred. She must have monstrously bad taste." Frederick tried to read his brother's countenance, to discover if he had really no idea who the girl was; but George turned his head hastily away, and was searching for the poker. "She is a noble-hearted woman, George, whom I love all the more for having refused me." "Then I am afraid that the bad taste is yours. I never before met with a man who liked a girl the better for refusing him, especially if she encouraged him to make her an offer." And George turned round and looked Frederick in the face. "Had she done so, I should have neither respected nor loved her. You know, George, that it is of Isolina that I speak." "I thought so." "Little did I think when she was brought, a pretty little thing, to my father's house, I could ever have felt for her as I now do. A few years later my mother had other schemes for me, which proved as abortive as all such schemes will prove, when made too plain to those for whose benefit they are intended. I hoped, too, that the gentle being my mother destined for me would have made you happy." George shaded his face with his hand as his brother proceeded. "Though I have never touched on this subject to you, I am sure that you know how deeply I have felt for you in the series of misunderstand- ings which; for a time, led to so much unhappiness for both. I trust events have led, or may lead in the end, to greater happiness." "What are you driving at, Fred?" interrupted George, almost fiercely.' "This dreary sentimentalism is, no doubt, page: 332-333[View Page 332-333]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 332-333 332 . ISOLINA. all meant very kindly towards me, but I don't understand it; and I can't see what in the world it has to do with your love-affair." A shade of pain crossed Frederick's brow; but, instantly recovering himself, he smiled, and continued: "H beg your pardon; you must have a little patience with me. I am afraid I am too much given to such flights." "I beg yours," said George. "You must pardon my rough sailor ways, old fellow. You touched a sore place, and I winced; that's all." "'Let the dead past bury its dead i"' said Frederick, quoting the well-known American poet; " but let me cast one more glance backwards on that past which still sur- vives in the present. When I saw Isolina as a woman, her beauty and grace struck me as singular, and I was amused and interested by her simplicity, united with so much intelligence. I should have been contented, how- ever, with observing this, on the visit she and her mother paid at the Pines, as I had many other subjects to occupy me at that moment, had not I perceived that my mother was watching me and suspected motives which never existed in my breast until she herself planted them there. My desire to assert my independence, as well as my curiosity to know how Isolina spent her time, and my passion for music, of which she is so perfect a mistress, led me to pay frequent visits to the cottage, and I antici- pated no danger to myself or to her. It was not till my mother had contrived to send Isolina away that I knew I had fallen in love. I had no reason to suppose that my love was returned, or that she regarded me in any other light than that of a friend; and as I was cool enough to know that such a marriage would not meet with the approbation of either my father or my mother, and as I had no desire to vex them, I went abroad. I traveled, I entered into society, and I underwent that ordeal from designing mothers and worldly-minded daughters which is enough to condemn an eldest son to celibacy for life. I returned disgusted with the world and with myself, and I then learned from my mother that even innocent little Isolina had been corrupted; that she too had been willing, though with more excuse, to sacrifice herself for wealth and ISOLINA. 333 rank. It was you, George, who told me I was mistaken; and, whilst she was in Italy, though I had resolved not to approach her until the golden image she had set up was seen by her in its reality, till she was cured of her delusion about Fanshaw, I read over with delight all the letters which I could persuade Mrs. Camelli to show me, and I treasured up every word in those of my dear aunt which spoke her praise. I saw her frequently after her return, when she was residing with her mother, and I was only prevented making her an offer by her indifference to myself, and by suspecting, from words that accidentally fell from her, and from her blushes, that her thoughts and heart were absorbed by another, and that she therefore ac- cepted all my attentions as the kindness of an old friend. To-day I have broken the spell, and, if my enchantment remains the same, my hopes are crushed forever." He was silent, and George could hear a half-suppressed sob, as he sat with his head leaning on his arms, which rested on the back of his chair. "She will think better of it," were the only words of consolation which suggested themselves to George's mind. "Never l" said Frederick, sadly. "I esteemed my- self too highly when I supposed it possible that I could win one so pure, so good." "This is madness, folly, Fredl She must, she shall love you!" "George," said Frederick, after another minute's pause, "I leave this place to-day. Make any excuse for me you can. Time will, I know, soften this bitter disappoint- ment,-for bitter it is, to lose the hope of obtaining a companion for life such as Isolina, one who is capable of loving me for myself alone, and in whose eyes my worldly advantages are of little worth." "Isolina is not alone, Fred. Take courage,-you will find another as worthy to deserve you." "Can he love her?" thought Frederick, looking earn- estly into his brother's face, and then said, "Perhaps you do not yet know her as I do." "Perhaps-better." "She is an angel of goodness, and in a cruel position. Yet, hard as her life's trial is, she would not seek to page: 334-335[View Page 334-335]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 334-335 ,334 ISOLINA. escape from it, and to gain honor and wealth at the ex. pense of a marriage where she cannot love as she believes a wife ought to love." "She is no angel, but an upright woman, who has acted as-as I should have expected Isolina'would act, with courage and truth." Frederick rose and grasped his brother's hand to bid him farewell. As he was leaving, he stopped suddenly, and returned; taking George's hand once more, he pressed it tightly as he said, with an effort,- "She is free. Mat he who wins her prove himself worthy of such a treasure!"Then, letting his brother's hand go, he ran out of the room, as if he dared not trust himself to hear a reply. Isolina, meantime, had hastened to the little boudoir where she was always made welcome. Alice looked up as she entered, and held a letter to her, which she had received in an envelope directed to herself. She was dressed for dinner, and so busily occupied in writing that she did not observe the trembling fingers which received the letter, nor did she remark anything unusual in Iso- lina's silence. Isolina sat down on a chair opposite her, but the letter remained unopened in her hand, whilst her eyes were fixed vacantly on the fire. She was roused from her reverie by two little arms clasping her round the neck and a fond kiss on her hot cheek. "You are burning your face, Miss Camelli," said Lady Julia. "I wish, Isolina, you would take Julia to the school- / room and amuse her for a quarter of an' hour before she goes to bed," said the duchess, without raising her eyes from her paper. "I allowed Madge to stay beside mamma to see her dress, and the poor child does not know how to amuse herself alone." "I am very sorry," said Isolina, " that I stayed so long in the drawing-room. I thought the- little girls were, as usual, both with you this afternoon, and " "I did not mean any reproach to you; only I have some important papers to copy for the duke, and the little puss leaves me no peace." Isolina was silent, for her heart was too full almost for i ISOLINA. 335 utterance, and Alice looked up from the papers on which she was engaged. t I hope 1 have not hurt you," she continued; "but jt is just dressing-time, and I am therefore hurried. If you wish to practice, Isolina, Juli'a can go to Dawson; only I did not like to disappoint her; and though the duke did say that Emmeline could do his work as well, if I had not time, H would rather do it myself." s "Why, you are crying, darling 1" said little Julia, as the tears forced themselves from Isolina's eyes and stole unheeded down her cheeks. "My dear Isolina, are you not well?" asked Alice, tenderly, which only made the tears fall faster. "That letter,-wiy, you have not opened itl My dear girl, do tell me. If I .were notx so busy for the duke-but never mind: I Will hand it over to Emmeline, and tell him I was not able,-only do say, Isolina, what is the matter." "No; when you have leisure. There is plenty of time. I will go to the school-room, and to-night, pray come and see me. I cannot appear in the drawing-room.' Alice felt she had a duty to fufill towards her husband and towards herself, and she allowed Isolina to leave the room, taking Julia with her. When Captain Mowbray delivered his brother's apolo- gies, the duchess understood what had happened, and it required some self-command to play her part well -as hostess that evening, although the duke was unusually amiable, satisfied'with the work his wife had executed for him as rapidly, and in nearly as masterly a style, as Lady Emmeline. Hehad informed his sister of this, with an air of such perfect contentment that that lady foreboded, with darker looks than those of the sable hero, "Othello's occupation's gone.", "Does not Miss Camelli appear this evening?" asked Count Jacopo Priuli of Elgiva. "Do you not know that Mr. Mowbray has taken his departure?" was the iteply. ! 'Iunderstand," he said, smiling. "I was not unob- servant yesterday." "Lady Elton does not look very well pleased; and no page: 336-337[View Page 336-337]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 336-337 336 ISOLINA. wonder: she was just in time to prevent her son forming a mbsalliance with the duchess's governess." "Miss Camelli is unfortunate. She is worthy of a hap. pier fate." "Oh, you do not know her as I do," said Elgiva. "She has very high notions, and won't rest satisfied till she has taken some man in. She has been spoiled by all that Elton family, and between being good-looking and singing well (as I am told, for I know nothing of music), she fancies nobody too good for her. I advise you to beware. She will aim at you next, and you may not be proof against her charms. She is quite a beauty men admire." "Whom are you talking of, Elgiva?" asked Sir Thomas Fanshaw,--" a horse, or a woman?" "A woman, to be sure; and no less a woman than your former flame, the fair. Isolina." "Are you too caught in her toils, Priuli?" "Not yet, I am happy to say; but Lady Fanshaw thinks me itl some danger, and has graciously taken me under her protection." It was nearly midnight before Alice opened Isolina's door. She found her in her dressing-gown, her long, dark hair unbound, and lying exhausted on the sofa, in so heavy a sleep that her pale complexion, and even lips, looked like death itself. The duchess laid her hand on her head, and Isolina woke to a vision of loveliness, as Alice stood before her, in her simple but rich dress and jewels, -and with that look of peace in her soft eyes which is so rare to find in those who have passed through the weary ordeal of greatness. It was some moments before the waking girl recollected where she was, or what had occurred; but, as remembrance re- turned, she felt very unhappy. Alice sat down beside her, and, taking her hand between hers, bade her tell her story. She obeyed. "And now," she exclaimed, as she ended, "I cannot stay here. H cannot face Lady Elton; I cannot meet Mr. Mowbray or his brother." "Mr. Mowbray has left the castle," said Alice. "But his brother-but Captain Mowbray, Mr. Mow- bray, knows all. And oh, Alice, I despise myselfl And yet I cannot help it; I cannot help liking him. I am ISOLINA. 337 unfit for my duties, and if I return to my mother, every- thing will remind me of what I ought most to forget; and there I could not escape from seeing Lady Elton. I have written letter after letter this evening to Lady Campbell, and torn every one up. I cannot write to her to say that I have refused one of her nephews because I love the other. What will she think of me? Oh, I wish I were dead!" "You will be calmer by-and-by, my poor Isolina," said Alice, tenderly. "But that letter which I gave you? I am anxious to know its contents, for it seemed- singular that any one should address you through me." "It can be no one I care about, I am sure. Perhaps Victoria Carr. I laid it aside, and I had forgotten all about it." Isolina rose languidly from the sofa, where she was now sifting, and turned over her writing-ma- terials, to seek where she had thrown it on coming into the room. As she opened it, and looked at the signature, the name of Dr. Hill, the physician at Woodford, alarmed her, and not without reason, for it contained only a few lines, to inform her that her mother had had a seizure on one side, which had affected her mind. She had recovered consciousness partially, but she had evidently received a shock which, even though her life might be spared a few years longer, would leave her in a state of greater de- pendence than ever. The news seemed to rouse Isolina from her lethargy. Her mortified pride was forgotten in the anxiety she felt for her mother. She put the letter into Alice's hands, exclaiming,-- "I must go to mamma without delayl There is a coach which passes through the park at five in the morn- ing; I will leave by that. Go to bed, dearest Alice. Don't let me be selfish, keeping you here. I must pre- pare to start. I shall not go to bed to-night." "My dear Isolina " "It would be of no use. I could not sleep. Now, do go, dear, dear Alice I Mav Heaven bless and reward you for all your kindness to me!" Alice had noTle't her long before a tap at Isolina's door announced Mrs. Villiers. P 29 * page: 338-339[View Page 338-339]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 338-339 338 ISOLINA. "Her Grace has sent me to ask if you have all you want, Miss Camelli," said that lady, demurely, and in a condescending tone, " and also to ask if I should get up one of the girls to help you to pack." "I want nothing," said Isolina, who was, neverthe- less, sitting by the half-extinguished fire just as Alice had left her. "Let me put on a little more wood, miss," said Mrs. Villiers, taking the opportunity to look at her red, swollen eyes. "I am very sorry to hear from her Grace that you have had bad news from home,' she continued, longing to hear a little more, since her curiosity had been awakened by hints dropped by Lady Elton's maid, who had seen and heard enough to conjecture that Mr. Mow- bray had been making love to the governess. "Yes," replied Isolina: "my mother has been taken very ill." "I am sure Lady Elton will be grieved to hear it, miss. " "I am sure she will," replied Isolina. "She and all that family have such a regard for you, miss. If John didn't hear the captain talking of you to her Grace the other morning, when he brought her Grace a message from the schoolmistress "I :have a great deal to do, Mrs. Villiers, to-night," said Isolina, disgusted at having been the subject of conversation in the servants' hall, "and I must, there- fore, request you to leave me." "Certainly, miss. I hope the fire will burn now. I suppose you know Mr. Mowbray left the castle quite sudden just before dinner to-day? Have you any mes- sage for Lord or Lady Elton, or the captain? They might like to hear about Mrs. Camelli, and, as you start at five, -her Grace will not see you again." "Thank you, no," said Isolina, blushing enough to satisfy Villiers that her sudden departure was not oc- casioned solely by her mother's illness. "My dear Isolina," said a soft voice at the door, which made the composed Mrs. Villiers start, "I must see you once more before you leave us. Villiers, you may go to bed." ISOLINA. 339 The Abigail gave a low curtsy, and took her departure. Alice did not stay long, and the friends bade each other adieu with full hearts. - Mrs. Villiers did not go at once to her room, as desired, but stopped at a door she seldom passed at night without a visit. Finding the occupant still up, she stole softly in, to acquaint her with the latest news. "Oh, my lady, poor Miss Camelli is in such a wayl" she exclaimed, addressing Lady Emmeline. "Her mother is dying, my lady; and I have just left her Grace with her, who is bidding her good-by, as she means to start by the five o'clock coach, to-morrow'morning, for Wood- ford."' "What a very sudden resolution!" said Lady Emme- line. "Has Mrs. Camelli had a fit? Miss Caihelli might, at least, have waited until after breakfast, and not disturbed the household." "It is, certainly, rather inconsiderate; but she is quite resolved to go, my lady." 'I Indeedl And she did not make her appearance in the drawing-room this evening. The duchess said she was not well. Perhaps the news occasioned her indis- position," proceeded Lady Emmeline, soliloquizing. "Who can tell, my lady? Miss Camelli is so myste- rious, always having confidences with her Grace. Her Grace has never been the same to nobody since she came to the castle; indeed, I may say, since they met at Flor- ence. Then there is Lady Elton's maid, who tells me that her lady, followed by Miss Camelli all in tears, came to her roqm just before dressintg-time; and Captain Mow- bray and his brother have had some quarrel, which made Mr. Mowbray leave so sudden as he did." Lady Emmeline looked at her watch. "It is nearly one. If you are sure Miss Camelli is not in bed, I will go to her for a few minutes: I must bid her good-by before she leaves." "I am sure she is not in bed, my lady. She had all her clothes to pack, and I have just made up the fire." "Very well: you can go, Villiers. Good-night." About twenty minutes after Alice had bidden her good- by, Isolina was bending over, her trunk, when she was sur- page: 340-341[View Page 340-341]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 340-341 840 ISOLINA. prised by a third and most unexpected visitor, as Lady Emmeline's head appeared in the doorway. "Miss Camelli,"r she began, "I am grieved to hear you have had bad news. I will not detain you above a few minutes. I have come to bid you good-by." "Thank you." "What nature of attack is this your mother is suffering from?2 "Paralysls." And Isolina's lips quivered as she uttered the word. "I have seen people recover from such an attack," said Lady Emmeline. "There is old Widow Brown, she had a stroke ten years ago, and everybody thought she would have died; and she is still alive, though bed-ridden, of course. But whatever the result, my dear Miss Camelli, we must be resigned to the will of Heaven; whatever occurs, this is, you know, your duty. You will really unfit yourself for assisting your mother if you give way to grief, as I can see you have been doing. Would it not be wiser to go to bed now, and defer your journey till a later hour to-morrow? You had better take Lady Elton's advice before starting,-she who is your best friend here." "The duchess is my best friend here," said Isolina, quickly. "But Lady Elton has been like a mother to you in the absence of Lady Campbell." "I shall go home, and consult no one." "Well, if you will not take any one's advice, I suppose you must go. I am sure both Lord and Lady Elton will feel the deepest sympathy for you: they take so warm an interest in your welfare. I suppose you know that Mr. Mowbray left the castle this afternoon?" "Yes." "But Captain Mowbray will be quite shocked at this news. He told me once what an excellent person your mother is, and what a dutiful daughter you are: so com- pletely repaying by your conduct the pains his aunt kindly bestowed on your education; and he agreed with me in the hope that you would, by your steady conduct, be enabled to place your mother and yourself in a re- JO ISOILINA. 341 spectable and independent position for life. But I won't detain you now: good-night, and good-by. I hope you will be able to send the duchess a better report than you now anticipate." As the sound of Lady Emmeline's footsteps ceased on the stairs, and she felt herself once more alone, Isolina sat down with a cold feeling at her heart. "Could Captain Mowbray have talked thus of her? Lady Emlmeline was surely incapable of a falsehood." True! But there are touches and emendations which may so pervert truth that a conversation repeated may cease to be genuine. CHAPTER XXXIV. "All within is dark as night, In the window is no light, And no murmur at the door, So frequent on its hinge before." TENNYSON. A THCK fog rested as a cloud upon the earth, and beneath it the green, rank grass was sprinkled with the white of the hoar-frost. The roads were hard and cracked on the surface, whilst whatever moisture could arise, whether from the breath of man or beast, or from the spring which gurgled up from the warm earth, was im- mediately converted into ice. It was Sunday, so there was ttle traffic on the road, but the sound of a distant wheel, of the lowing of a cow as she stretched her head' over the gate between the leafy trees, or the merry laugh of an urchin bird-nesting, when he should have been pre- paring for school or church, rang sharply upon the ear. The heavily-laden stage-coach drew up in front of the low garden-gate which led to Rose Cottage, and a lady, wrapped in cloaks and furs, descended. She pushed it open, and walked up to the door of the cottage with the quick, resolute step of one who is approaching inevitable 29* i - ". * page: 342-343[View Page 342-343]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 342-343 342 ISOLINA. suffering, and with whom any reality is better than suspense. A sleepy country-girl looked out of an upper window, and answered her, repeated low knocks by asking who she was, and then hurrying down-stairs to open the door. "How is she?" asked Isolina, hardly trusting herself to listen to the answer. "Missus was very bad all last night; miss, but the doctor is, expected every minute now. Rebeccal" she called towards the kitchen, from whence that damsel emerged in night-cap, slippers, petticoat, and short-gown, the costume in which she had passed the night by Mrs. Camelli's bed. "Oh, miss, I'm so glad you be come I Don't be alarmed, there's a dear; don't. take on: it's no use. I dare say she'll get quite well. soon. Missus is certainly better." "Better!"The word was almost as good as well to an ear which expected to hear all was over. In a moment Isolina was at the top of the stairs. She had thrown, aside her cloak, and only paused to warm herself by the embers of the fire in the grate, that she might not bring a stream of cold air with her into the patient's room. When she ventured to enter, she approached the bed softly. "Is she awake, Rebecca?" she whispered. '"Yes, miss; she has been awake this hour," was the answer, in a voice too loud, Isolina thought, for a sick- room. "Hush I and leave us till I ring." "She won't know you, miss," said Rebecca, shaking her head. "I will try. Go."' Rebecca obeyed, thoughbunwillingly; and Isolina no sooner found herself alone, than she gently moved aside the curtains so as to let the light fall on herself and on the face of the invalid. Mrs. Camelli was seated half upright on the bed, her head supported by pillows; her face was slightly drawn on one side. She opened her eyes at the rustling noise, and looked at Isolina, but there was no recognition in that vacant gaze. ISOLINA. 343 "Mother, don't vou know me,?" said Isolina, in a low, trembling voice. "I am your child, your Isolina.'" Still Mrs. Camelli gazed on. "Mother, mother, speak to mel" half screamed her unhappy daughter. "Isolina l" ejaculated Mrs. Camelli, as if memory was faintly returning. "She knows me!" exclaimed Isolina. ^"Yes, dearest, dearest mother, I am Isolina!"And she threw her arms tenderly round the passive form. l!Mrs. Camelli laid her head on her daughter's shoulder, as she was in the habit of doing when caressing her, and Isolina inwardly vowed she would never again leave her. She crept on to the bed, afraid of .disturbing her mother's attitude, and sat there so long with her arms clasped around her, that Rebecca at length put her head in at the door to ask if she were not wanted. About half an hour later, the doctor arrived, and, taking Isolina into the adjoining room, told her gently, but decid- edlv, that he had no hope of anything but a partial recovery. "This is no ordinary case of. paralysis," he proceeded to say. "I am afraid I shall shock you, my dear young friend, but I think it right to inform you that your mother's present state is the consequence of a long course of opium and brandy." "Impossible, Dr. Hill l"' exclaimed Isolina, turning very pale. "Your mother, like other persons with similar habits, has had a wonderful power of concealment. I have sus- pected it often, but as often she has evaded my questions and baffled me. I shbuld not be surprised if the beginning of this habit dates before your father's death. Do not cry, my dear. She has probably had the temptation to use some stimulus to relieve a weak body, and to escape from the depression and anxiety she went through at the time of her bereavement, when she perhaps increased the quan- tity. I have been too long a physician, I have seen too much human suffering, mental and bodily, to judge her severely for having sought any kind of relief. It is the young and strong-those who have never felt tempta- tion-who judge most harshy of this sin." page: 344-345[View Page 344-345]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 344-345 844 ISOLINA. "But how could she hide it from me?" asked Isolina. "No very difficult matter," replied Dr. Hill, half smiling, "especially when she had an accomplice." "Rebecca l" exclaimed Isolina. "Yesi Rebecca." "She might have been saved had I known it." "I doubt it," said Dr. Hill. "I shall dismiss Rebecca at once, and wait on her en- tirely myself."' "I do not advise this, my dear. Your mother is ac- customed to her old servant, and would miss her. You are not strong. Do you superintend everything, but let Rebecca remain." "I shall not endure to look at her, if she has been the means of killing my own dearest mamma." "You are wrong; you are unjust: she is an ignorant person, but warmly attached to both of you; and if she yielded to your mother's persuasion, and perhaps was influenced by the bribe of an addition to her wages to conceal the fact, and to furnish Mrs. Camelli with what she required, her guilt is, at least, open to some excuse." Isolina was silent. Rebecca's fault appeared trifling beside that of her mother, who had allowed Lady Camp- bell to pay her servant's wages, whilst secretly increasing them that she might conceal a habit which would have disgraced her in the eyes of all her friends. The thought was too dreadful to bear. The daughter's heart was full of shame and indignation; but what could now be done? Whatever might be the consequences, Isolina resolved she would Ashield her mother from all accusations, and would uphold her before the world. She would entreat Dr. Hill to keep the secret; she herself would hide it jealously from all eyes; she would cherish her, toil for her. But Mrs. Camelli might survive for years in a helpless state, and Isolina could not now bVear the idea of being beholden to those who, if they knew all, would think their benevolence had been misplaced. She would have accepted anything from Lady Cfampbell, so long as she knew that they were only taking that of which mis- fortune had deprived them, and which they could requite by duty and affection; but to have continued to depend i . ISOLINA. 345 in any degree upon her aid, in a pecuniary way, small as that had been latterly, whilst acting fraudulently, was an idea she could not endure. Lady Elton, too I Every kindness Isolina or her mother had received from that proud woman was gall and wormwood to her now. She alone would support her unhappy mother, and she would m taintain her dignity with her own: she felt strength for anything. They must leave the cottage; she would always remember with affectionate gratitude that Lord Elton had given them this home for so many years, and been a true friend to them; but she could not now accept what, for the first time in her life, appeared to her in the light of a bounty. She wdld take a lodging in London, such-as their slender means could afford, and, after con- sulting with Lady Campbell, she would begin her new career, as a public singer; she would go on the stage, do anything, rather than her mother should be denied either medical assistance or the little luxuries of which an in- valid is so much in need. A peevish cry from the bed awoke Isolina from her reverie, and she jumped up from her chair and hastened to her patient. After a few minutes, Mrs. Camelli was soothed, and Isolina -had resumed her meditations. She was again interrupted by Rebecca bringing in her break- fast on a tray. Her young mistress looked up with the intention of reproaching her; but the red eyes and con- scious guilt of the old servant's countenance checked her words. Rebecca, however, understood what Isolina was going to say. She placed the breakfast on the table be- side her, then, falling on her knees, begged for forgive- ness, and declared she would rather serve her without wages all the rest of her life than serve any other. What could Isolina say? She extended her hand, which Re- becca covered with kisses, and then, stooping, kissed the 9 cheek she had so often caressed when a child, The rest of that morning she sat silently watching,- sometimes listening to the distant sound of the bella at Woodford, where Rebecca had gone to church, some- times reading a few verses in the large old Bible, which lay open before her, and sometimes praying for strength to fulfill her duty. P* page: 346-347[View Page 346-347]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 346-347 346 ISOLINA. Soon after Rebecca's return, Isolina was summoned to dinner in the little parlor below. Rebecca had thought it unnecessary to light a fire in the dreary room, where the green walls, on which hung one or two old engrav- ings in black, polished frames, showed unmistakable signs of damp. A cold leg of mutton, a few potatoes boiled in their skins, and the remains of an apple-pie, which had been served up to Mrs. Camelli a fortnight before, and had since that time been religiously preserved in the cup- board till nearly uneatable, did not form a very tempting repast., The old clock in the hall, meanwhile, made dreary music, and snow-flakes were beginning to fall with- out. Fortunately for Isolina,'the doctor's gig just then drew up at the door. Finding her at this uncomfortable meal, he exclaimed, "We shall soon have two patients instead of one." And driving on to the Pines, where the servants in the absence of the fanmily were regaling on a luxurious Sunday dinner, he ordered some of the sub- stantial fare to be sent immediately to the cottage. The question kept ever recurring to Isolina'^ mind, "How should she set about fulfilling her plan?" She would, at any rate, lose no time in writing to Lady Camp- bell and consulting her. No scruples on'her grand- father's account, or for some remote chance of an uncer- tain benefit which might accrue to her, should now inter- fere with what she felt to be a duty. When her mother's health should be somewhat restored, she could leave her with Rebecca part of each day and night, which would be necessary for the profession she proposed to herself to adopt; but then came the idea of failure,--possible, if not probable; for she was musician enough to know the wide difference between a professor and an amateur. Aring at the door-bell again interrupted Isolina's re- flections. She stole softly down-stairs, expecting to see Dr. Hill, when, to her joy and surprise, the kindly face of Mr. 'Bryant appeared. She held out both hands, unable for a few minutes to speak from emotion. Where he had come from, how he had heard of her and her dis- tress, had to be asked-and answered. So Rebecca took Isolina's place byMrs. Camelli, whilst she led her old friend into the parlir, and herself lighted the fire in the ISOLINA. 34t grate. Mr. Bryant had returned from the Continent a fortnight -before, having resigned the chaplaincy at Florence for a good living in London. He had come down to Woodford to preach once more in -his former church, and, meeting Dr. Hill, had heard from him of Mrs. Camellias illness and Isolina's desolate condition. She' had now the consolation of one beside her to whom she could relate all her schemes, and on whose judgment she could rely. He glistened attentively, and told her he must take time to consider before he gave his advice. Her unwillingness to consult Lady Elton, before leaving the cottage, appeared to him an excess of delicacy; but, as she had made up her mind, he did not attempt to dis- suade her; for a few more weeks they must remain in their present abode, and Lady Campbell would probably be her best: adviser in the further details of her plan. The next morning he called on her again, and having well turned over the pros and cons in his mind, and de- cided that the probabilities were in favor of Isolina suc- ceeding as a musician, he promised her all his support and, assistance, beginning by an introduction to one of the leading musicians in the metropolis. But Isolina had become calmer after a good night's rest, and, though her purpose was the same, her courage was no longer sus- tained by enthusiasm. The difficulties she would have to encounter now appeared magnified, and she shrank from the publicity of her undertaking. It seemed so de- grading to depend for her livelihood, not so much on real excellency in her art, as on the caprice of the public, whom she herself arraigned as her judges. She blushed at the very thought. And George,-what would he think? Would he pronounce her Wanting in womanly modesty and reserve? She was sure of Frederick's indulgence; but why need she think at all of either? She could never now hope to be George Mowhrav's wife. She, a public singer! And yet this was no reason she should shrink from duty. Then Lady Elton would be triumph- ant; and Lord Elton,--he, e all events, would always stand her friend. Isolina sat down to her writing-table to begin a letter to Lady Campbell. It took her very long, but was-at page: 348-349[View Page 348-349]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 348-349 348 ISOLINA. last sealed and sent. Returning to Mrs. Camelli's room, she bent over that -pale, sleeping face, and, kissing her passionatelv, she felt capable of any sacrifice to gratify her who had been her beloved father's idol. CHAPTER XXXV. "Though sometimes the shade of past folly would rise, And though falsehood again would allure him astray, He has turned to the glory that dwelt in those eyes,. And the folly, the falsehood, soon vanished away." MOORE. AFTER two nights of wakeful thoughts and anxiety, Isolina was one morning refreshing herself by a stroll in ler little garden. The frost and snow hung on the grass and on -the delicate twigs in the hedges, where a solitary robin hopped to and fro, as it boldly approached, looking up to her with its clear, beadlike eyes. She went back into the house for a few crumbs to throw to it. Any small incident which may help to divert the thoughts when the mind is under strong tension is a wholesome change, as Isolina felt when she could not refrain from smiling as her hungry visitor followed her to the threshold. She was so much occupied with the robin that she did not- bear the gate open, nor some one entering the garden, until a well-known voice addressed her.- 'All the blood seemed then to mount into her face as she looked up and saw Captain Mowbray. "How kind of you!" was her first exclamation. "Kind I I should have been a brute not to have come. I only learned last night from my father the reason you had left the castle. But, tell me, how is your poor mother? Very ill, -I fear." "Yes, indeed, she is very ill; but there has been a slight improvement. Will you not come in?-it is so cold standing here." "It must be a comfort to her to have you at home," he continued, following her into the parlor. "Not much yet. It is a comfort to me to be near her; ISOLINA. 849 but she only recognizes me at intervals." And Isolina's lips trembled as she spoke. "So bad as that, Isolina? But consciousness will re- turn in time." "I trust so. Dr. Hill declares it will; but he tells me she never will be quite herself again." "Doctors are not prophets, Isolina, and often are greater alarmists than necessary. D'on't believe him; your mother will recover." "I wish I could think so." "You may, I am sure. It will not make it worse for you in the end if vou are (as I trust you are not) mis- taken, and you may save yourself unnecessary pain. It is always better to hope." "That is true." "Dr. Hill tells me that Mr. Bryant is in Woodford, and that he has seen you," said Captain Mowbray. "With so kind and judicious a friend, you need no one else: so I ought to apologize for my intrusion." "I am sure you never need such an apology," said Isolina, smiling. "Thank you for that smile. You look more like yourself. I had intended coming down here for a few days' quiet shooting, for I was tired with the gayeties of the castle, so I was not sorry for any excuse to get away, and I am fortunate in having hit on this time, when, if you don't mind my calling in now and then, I may perhaps enliven you a little,-the only use I can be of. By the bye, I nearly forgot the message from that dear little Mabel Tierney. What a nice little girl she is I She desired me to give you her love, and to say she hoped to hear better tidings of your mother. The duchess, too, told me that she intends writing to you to-morrow. Now, I won't detain you from Mrs. Camelli. I know you are longing for me to be off. Good-by." Isolina watched him from the window till quite out of sight, and then returned to her mother's side. A visit from Mr. Bryant, and another from Dr. Hill, who pre- scribed a bed in a separate apartment from that occupied by Mrs. Cameili, and that Rebecca should take Isolina's place alternate nights, were all the events of the day. 30 page: 350-351[View Page 350-351]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 350-351 Y5U 0SOLINA. The next was like it, except that there was no visit from George Mowbray, only a message of inquiry, and a kind letter from Alice instead.. The third brought George again, and he was glad to see Isolina looking better than on his first visit He gave her a note from Lady Elton, which had been sent to Mrs. Smith, the housekeeper at the Pines, as his mother supposed him to have remained only one day at home, and to have proceeded to some friend to whom he was engaged when he left her at the castle. Lady Elton wished to know how Mrs. Camelli was. "Pray ask Mrs. Smith," said Isolina, "if she is -writing to your mother, to tell her that mamma is just the same. A little better,-not worse." "Cannot you write to her yourself?" "It would spare me the trouble, if Mrs. Smith is/ writing." "It was not your habit, Isolina, to mind a little trouble to show respect to my mother." I have never, that I remember, failed in respect to her," said Isolina, gravely; "but your mother, Captain Mowbray, has treated me lately in a manner I cannot forget nor forgive." George was silent. t "You will oblige me, then," she continued, "by con- veying my message, will not you? without forcing me to write." "I 'will. My brother, Isolina, has told me everything: all that has passed between him and you. Believe me, his confidence is not misplaced, and I only regret that " It was now Isolina's turn to be silent. "Perhaps you hardly know the heart you have rejected. He is so good, so superior, so accomplished, I fear you may repent your decision." She was glad he said "fear." "I could never," she said, in a low voice, " enter a family where I and those be- longing to me are looked upon with contempt. I do not speak of him, of your noble-hearted brother, of whose affection I am indeed unworthy, since, with all my respect and regard for him, I cannot return it as he deserves. But I speak of your mother, who considers the gulf im- ISOLINA. 351 passable which lies between her son and the woman of so humble a birth as, mine, destined to earn her own liveli- hood." "You take an exaggerated view; Isolina. It is natural that my mother, as well as my father, should expect that their eldest son, the heir to the title and fortune, should marry one whose family connection should add to our influence and position, rather than diminish it. It is natural that they should desire worldly advantages for him, added to those more essential to his happiness; but, as we all know that your family is perfectly respectable, I have no doubt that, with the regard my father enter- tains for your mother, his sister's old friend, and the affection both have for you, these difficulties would be, in time, overcome. You must tolerate that which to you may appear a weakness, and for which you can have no sympathy. Remember that my parents have been sur- rounded by circumstances from their birth which make them view life differently from you. Do not cause your own unhappiness and that of Frederick by yielding to pride, under the belief that you are fulfilling a duty to yourself." "You call it pride, Captain Mowbray, and Icall it self- respect. If you could have heard, if you could have seen your mother-- Allow me, at any rate, to be the best judge in this matter." "Certainly. I beg your pardon for my presumption." "Oh, don't be angry I Do not look so displeased with me! I have enough to vex me already. You do not know what Lady Elton said,-how hard, how cruel she was I Do not judge me severely." "I judge you severely, Isolina? I was only thinking of your interest, your happiness, and of-Frederick's." "You are very good." "If you say so, I shall begin to think myself very wicked. Are you sure that you will never repent?-that you do not in your heart love my brother?" "I have told you how I regard, how I honor him, but, that I could not marry him." "You are a strange girl. I wish I could read that heart of yours now as I could when you were the mei'ry / * \ page: 352-353[View Page 352-353]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 352-353 3O s ISOLINA. sprite we used to call 'the child,' and who always de- clared she would tell me everything." i Those days are past," said Isolina, sighing.1 "But may they not come again? May I not again be allowed to console you in your troubles, to share your ,sorrows and joys? I came here with the resolution to plead my brother's cause, not my own; and, even if I did not succeed, to refrain from speaking of myself until I could offer you a home. But, Isolina, I must tell you how deeply I love you." An expression of intense happiness lighted up her face for a moment; the next, a shade of sadness returned, as she replied, "Do not make this hour more difficult for me than I anticipated. I am weak, very weak, after all; but-must I confess it?-though the same reasons which I have told you would have prevented my marry- ing your brother must prevent my accepting you, you have made me very-happy. Yes, even though your parents might not despise me, as I know they do, I would not take advantage of your generosity to impose on you not only a penniless girl like myself, but my poor, de- pendent, invalid mother. But you give me strength for the fulfillment of my duty. It seems enough for me to know that--you love me." And she turned her head away, ashamed of what she had said. Perhaps this was as well, since she did not see the cloud on her lover's brow. George was not satisfied. He thought he was sure of Isolina; he had not, indeed, exactly made her an offer, and, after his last experience, he wished to act with caution; but he had never dreamed of undertaking Mrs. Camelli. "We must both wait, dearest Isolina, but not longer than the time needed for me to have a home worthy of you." "And my mother? Oh, Captain Mowbray, it must not, cannot be " "She must be provided for properly." "Yes, indeed; I think it right to tell you, I have been consulting Mr. Bryant how I could earn enough to give her all she must now require. There is but one way, as I cannot be separated from her, and that was first ^ ISOLINA. 353 suggested to me by Lady Campbell. I must make use of my musical talents; I must teach, and I must become a singer." George dropped her hand. "A public singer, Isolina I I entreat, I beg, if you have any love for me, do not go upon the stage!" "No; I shall not be an actress; but there is nothing by which I could in a short time earn so much as by singing in concerts: and money is necessary for us." George had never wished more ardently to be a wealthy man. "Cannot you live on as you are now living here, in this cottage?" he urged. "Impossible I My mother will need a hundred things our present scanty income could not supply." "But my mother " "I will accept nothing from Lady Elton," said Isolina. "Lady Campbell?" "Lady Campbell has been, and always will be, my benefactress, as well as my friend. I do not care what I accept from her, because I know I can gie her a daugh- ter's love; but she approves of my desire for independ- ence, and my mother must not always be a burden, even upon her." "Cannot you take a pupil again, or continue with the duchess?" "I must not be separated from my mother, and I could not, in her state, take any one, especially a child, into the house." "I have told you, Isolina, how I love you. Have you not love enough to make some sacrifice for one who would lay down his life for you?" "Tell me what sacrifice you demand. I shall only be too ready, too happy to feel I can do anything for you. But you want nothing, and I want everything at this moment, and you could not require me to sacrifice what is my highest duty," said Isolina. "If you are to be my wife, as I am resolved you shall one day be, you will love me, I know, better than any being on earth, as without your heart you would never give me your hand. Am I not right, Isolina?" 30* page: 354-355[View Page 354-355]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 354-355 354 ISOLINA. You know it," she answered, gently. "And Hthere is nothing on earth or almost in heaven I prize and love like you. We shall be all in all to each other." She looked up in his face with eyes full of the faith she could not express in words. "Then you love me more--more even than your mother? We will provide for her'together. She shall not suffer; but you must not sacrifice me and yourself for her." "I do not understand you," said Isolina, in wonder. "I cannot compare what I feel for you and what I feel for her, my own dearest mother, so cherished by my father, so helpless, so dependent now on me." "I ask you to give up this project, if only to please me; to let me provide all that is necessary for you both, and to establish her and you in a fitting home, with proper attendance. She shall never suffer from neglect, and when we are married you can visit her, watch over her, be with her at all times. Perhaps we could marry sooner than now seems possible, and leave the future to Providence. My father would not allow us to starve. Only give up this project." "No, Captain Mowbray," she said, shaking her head sorrowfully. "You are very kind, very generous, but neither my mother nor I, for her or for myself, will accept your charity, or Lord Elton's,-for such it would be,- and it is a thousand times more honorable to earn my own livelihood than to marry even you, only to be main- tained by you and by your family. Nay; hear me. I do love you, or I could hardly have listened to your proposal as I have done, but I will never separate from my mother, for I know too well her days are numbered: therefore there can be no question of my marriage so long as she lives. ] will not, however, allow her or myself to be a burden on our friends, and I will support her whilst I have strength to do so." "Have I, then, no influence with you?" "Too much, perhaps, for my happiness at this moment. Oh, use that influence to give me courage to fulfill what ISOLINA. 355 I believe to be my duty, or tell me what I can do to obtain the end I desire!"' "I do not know of any means but those which I have already suggested." "You must know that nothing but a conviction of my duty would allow me to act contrary to your wishes; something more than duty, perhaps, for you cannot fully comprehend how I love my mother; my father too,-he seems to have left her to my care, though I was such a little child when I lost him. Forgive me if I seem self- opinionated; I do not, indeed, I do not know what else to do." "As you love me, Isolina, I repeat, give up this project." "I will think over it. I have written to Lady Camp- bell. I will, at any rate, wait for her letter." "It might raise an insuperable barrier between us. What would my father say? You know my mother." "Not insuperable if you really love me," said Isolina, her face suffused with blushes at her own boldness. "Lady Elton would not hear of my marrying you now, nor would I marry you without her consent and that of Lord Elton." "Till then we will keep our own secret." "No secret, Captain Mowbray: we must both be free till we can speak perfectly openly, till you are not ashamed to acknowledge your affection for me. And as to my future career, I shall, as I have said, decide according to the advice of Lady Campbell, with whom I have no dis- guise, and who will therefore learn from me all that has passed between us." "Then am I to consider myself free, Isolina?" "Certainly." "It is your own doing. I have told you, and I repeat it now, that I love you,-that " The conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Bryant. He did not stay long, as he only came to inquire about Mrs. Camelli; but when he rose to go, George also took his leave, with a coldness which gave Isolina intense pain. Slipping his arm into that of Mr. Bryant, he led him towards the Pines, and as they strode along he told him the story of his attachment. And page: 356-357[View Page 356-357]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 356-357 856 ISOLINA , now," he ended, " she is about to create a greater diffi- culty than ever to the fulfillment of my hopes. Her having been a governess might be forgotten, and I think I could persuade my mother, I am sure I could my father, to waive that objection; but a public singer I How could I endure that my future wife should have her name printed in letters three inches long, and placarded before every public house of the metropolis? How could I stand by and hear her looks and voice criticised? Save her, save Isolina from this, if you can, Bryant!" "Save Captain Mowhrav," thought Mr. Bryant,l and then added, aloud, "But if I do not quite agree with you? I can imagine many things more dishonorable, and among them that which you say you proposed to her, that she should live on the charity of the man she hopes to marry, and whose family despise her. To live in idleness, to marry in order to save herself from work as well as want, she must (however treated with outward honors by the world) lose what- she values more,-self-respect. 'You appear to me to exaggerate the evils to which you allude. Unless, like a Turk, you shut a woman up from all be- holders, I do not see how she is to escape having her personal appearance remarked, especially if she has any such pretensions to beauty as Isolina. What is the first question asked when a young lady enters society, -when she makes her appearance in a ball or public assembly, at her marriage, or at her second introduction, as a bride? My dear friend, if a woman has any honest pride (and Isolina has her full share), she will regard such observa- tions, whether of admiration or censure, much as she would the same applied to her gown or bonnet. I do not deny that I too would have rejoiced had it been unneces- sary for her own and her mother's support to depend on her talents and exertions; but in this Lady Campbell differs from me; and perhaps she is right, for I am by no means sure that Isolina does not hold quite as dignified a position, and perhaps has a happier lot, than the young lady whose sole hope of occupation and comfort in life lies in marriage." Whilst Mr. Bryant and Captain Mowbray were dis- cussing her present conduct and her future career, Isolina, ISOLINA. - 357 left to her own reflections, experienced a bitter sense of mortification, which she- had little anticipated with George's first avowal of love. She could not repress the thought that Mr. Mowbray would'liave taken her, what- ever profession she might have chosen to adopt, would have honored her motive, and would never have been ashamed to own his affection to his parents. CHAPTER XXXVI. Oh, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deed, That did not better for my life provide Than public means, which public manners breed. Pity me, then, dear friend, and I assure ye Even that your pity is enough to cure me." SHAKSPEAR9. ISOLINA, and her mother left the cottage before the return of Lord and Lady Elton to the Pines, and took * up their abode in a small apartment in Duke Street, Manchester Square, which had been hired for them by Mr. Bryant at the request of Lady Campbell. She, at the same time, begged that he would take a fatherly charge of the young artiste until her return to town for the winter. Mrs. Camelli and her daughter had been established in their new residence a few days, when, one evening, Mr. Bryant called, accompanied by an elderly French gentleman, Monsieur Ampere, who had long been at the head of a great musical institute in Paris, and was now residing in London. I[e was a mild, gentle old man, with a kind, encouraging manner. But Isolina sat down to the piano, nervous from anxiety to do her best. Her first song was therefore a failure, and she knew it to be so before she ventured to look into his face. He was grave, shook his head, and bade her sing some exercises. Her vexation overcame her timidity; her fate seemed to hang in the balance, and, resolved to banish fear, she put forth all her powers to do justice to herself and to the page: 358-359[View Page 358-359]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 358-359 358 A, 1SOLINA. instruction she had received. She succeeded, "and her execution of a difficult passage in a song of Mozart's so enchanted Monsieur Ampbre that he foretold a success even greater than appeared possible to her most sanguine hopes. -- He proposed to call on her whenever he had leisure to suggest various improvements. The offer was gladly and gratefully accepted,-and she felt herself as if already launched in her new profession. Everyl hour that she could spare from her mother she devoted to practice, and at the end of a month Monsieur Ampire volunteered to introduce her to Signor Metero, the leader of the most fashionable London concerts, whose opinion was considered paramount among connoisseurs or dilet- tanti to stamp or destroy a rising reputation. Signor Metero heard, approved, and pronounced Iso- lina's voice, taste, and skill perfect, and that she only wanted a little more finish to be- one of the first artistes who had appeared for a considerable time. Surprising as it may seem, this authority in the musical world did not know much about music. He was one of those per- sons who rapidly acquire a superficial acquaintance with any subject; and, with a tolerable ear and a retentive memory for terms, but, above all, with that experience of human nature to know when to bend and when to assume to the vain and ignorant, he was readily given credit for real superiority, especially by the majority, who feared to betray their own ignorance if they ventured to oppose their judgment to an opinion pronounced with so much decision and affectation of science. Signor Metero had thus become a leader and guide in nmusical taste. As he had also common sense, backed by a capital to begin with, he enlisted the services of the first performers at his concerts, which soon became the -most fashionable in the metropolis; and what Signor Metero earned from a submissive public he paid back in many a kind act to artists of real but unnoticed genius. He engaged Isolina's services for the season, and she was to sing at his first concert, which had been already fixed for the fortnight after his visit. She hoped to have waited for her debut until Lady Campbell came to town, and she shrank from the haste with which she seemed to be carried forward ISO IN A. 3I59 to take the irrevocable step. How often did George Mowbray's disapproving look cross her memory, and bow often did she try to banish it I The belief that she was following the path of duty was her only support and consolation. Her first appearance was-indeed sufficiently trying for her nerves, and, when the awful moment arrived, she was almost glad that Lady Campbell was not present. The immense concert-room was filled almost to suffocation. The musician who had preceded her by a long and bril- liant piece on the piano had been listened to in profound silence, and his last notes were followed by a burst of applause. Signor Metero waved& his hand majestically to enforce silence, and approached to lead Isolina to the piano. Her elderly friend, Monsieur Ampere, was on one side of her, Mr. Bryant on the other; her head swam, she heard nothing, saw nothing but the anxious look of intended encouragement with which Signor Metero offered her his hand. Isolina stood for the first time before the public. She was simply dressed in pearl-gray silk, fastened to her throat, her dark hair arranged with classical taste, and a bunch of natural flowers fastening the braids on one side. She looked once round the room, hardly seeming to comprehend what was before her, and the tinid, almost wild, expression in her large eyes, caused by the excitement of the moment, might have been mistaken for inspiration. The first note of the symphony awoke all her feeling for the music which she so well knew and loved; and, as she began with the recitative of the last difficult song of the Sonnambula, she seemed to pour forth her soul in sadness. She had studied every passage till she had made it her own; every feeling which the composer expresses was rendered with double effect by the sweet, melodious pathos of her voice. She too had experienced sorrow, and the reality of her representation carried her audience with her in sympathy rather than called upon them for admiration. As she broke forth in that burst of joy with which the song concludes, her eyes, her lips, her whole person seemed to harmonize with the girlish grace and liveli- ness of the air. As she ended, the audience recalled her ' * * -' page: 360-361[View Page 360-361]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 360-361 360 ISOLINA. to herself by their loud and repeated applause. Isolina recollected where she was, what she had done, and, shrinking within herself, she was glad to return to her seat, and to hide from the number of eyes which seemed to follow her.,- Signor Metero relieved her embarrass- ment by taking the applause to himself, bowing again and again, and then entreated for silence, as a young geintlemlan with a cornet-a-piston took Isolina's place. Mr. Bryant accompanied her home. She sat :silent and dejected in the carriage, and, after a few words ex- pressive of his pleasure and satisfaction, he ceased to speak. Attributing her absence of mind to exhaustion, he told her he would call and see her later. A repast prepa red by Rebecca was awaiting her, but she could not touch it. She paced up and down the roomi in a state of excitement.. "I have done it I .I have done it 1"' she kept repeating to herself. "He will never think of me more. I can never, never be George Mowbray's wife 1" Rebecca had told her that her mother was sleeping when she first returned, but by a movement in the next room she became aware that. Mrs. Camelli was awake. As she entered, her mother raised herself slightly, and, stretching out her hand, said, I Is that you, my Isolina? I was dreaming about you." Her daughter hastened to her, and offered her a little lemonade, which was on the table- near. "How fine you are, my darling l" she con- tinued. "Where have you been? You look so like your dear papa, too." "I have been to a concert, mamma," said Isolina. "I am glad you have had some amusement," said Mrs. Camelli. "You' have a dull enough life with me, my poor child!" "Thank you,. dearest mamma. You must not think of that." And there was a choking sensation in Isolina's throat as she spoke. "There now, darling, I should like to sleep a little again. Come to me later," said Mrs. Camelli; and, as she settled herself on her pillow, Isolina stole out of the room. A note directed to her was lying on the table in the ' ISOLINA. 361 little parlor. She opened it. It was a complimentary effusion of Signor Metero's, inclosing five pounds. "Know- ing," he wrote, " how sweet the first fruit of her success would be to the young artiste, he hastened to sen' it, and to express his sense of her merit, and his hope in her future career from the promise of that dav's concert." "The price of my happinessl" she ejaculated, half aloud. "And of my dearest mother's future comfort," whispered a voice within her, as she burst into tears. Just then Mrs. Camelli called to her again. I'Isolina, why do you stay so long away? Lady Elton has been here, and wished to take me out in the pony-carriage. I don't like this place. I want to go home." She was wandering again, as she still did fre- quently. "But, dearest mamma, you know you like being in London." "Yes, I like London, but not this place: Miss Mow- bray--Ellinor, I mean-has not been here for a long time, and your father is- always late. Isolina, child, why is not dinner ready? We need not wait for the Babbo." The word Babbo, so long unheard, brought back a thousand childish recollections in poor Isolina's heart. She sat down beside her mother's sofa, and, resting her cheek on her hand, looked sadly in her face, whilst -Mrs. Camelli ran on with such disjoifted talk, until she had tired herself to sleep. Her daughter then rose, and ar- ranged her pillows before she left her, to change her dress. As Isolina returned to the drawing-room, she heard a loud knock at the street door, and before she could deny herself to visitors, Rebecca announced Miss Carr. She was dressed in the extreme of the fashion, and she met Isolina with open arms, kissing her on both cheeks. "My dear Isolina, I am delighted to see you again. It. seems an age since we met. I thought I recognized your name on the concert-bills." J Isolina shrank from the recollection, whilst half ashamed of her own weakness. ! "But I was not quite sure," continued Victoria, "till page: 362-363[View Page 362-363]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 362-363 362 - ISOLINA. I saw and heard you, and I then resolved to lose no time in finding you out." "Thank you," said Isolina, coldly. "My situation is changed much for the better since I last saw you," said Miss Carr, "and so I see is yours; for they say you will soon cut out Grisi, and I can assure you that everybody is raving about you. When did you leave your duchess?" "Some time ago." "I hope you parted friends?" "Perfectly. I beg your pardon, but I must request you will speak a little lower, as I have my invalid mother in the next room." "Dear mel I am so sorry. I did hear from my mamma that Mrs. Camelli had been ill, and that you had left the cottage; They say in Woodford that' Mr: Mowbray was the cause of it all, or-or-the captain. You're not angry again, are you? But I know I oughtn't to speak of this to you. What a splendid voice you haVe! I wish I had such a gift. But I am really very happy now." '" am glad to hear it," said Isolina, hoping that her visitor would soon take her leave. "I left the Honorable Mrs. Taunton," pursued Miss Carr, " and almost immediately found my present situa- tion with Mrs. Shenstone. She treats me just like a daughter, and I see the most aristocratic society at her house. She took me abroad with her first, and we have just returned for the spring season. As Easter falls early this year, we shall go abroad again next summer, I believe." "Your life must pass much more agreeably than formerly, I should think," said Isolina. "O Obyou have no idea of the difference I I have nothing to do but to drive out in the carriage, and shop, and leave cards for Mrs. Shenstone, and help to entertain her friends. She gives me a hundred a year, but wishes me to dress well, of course, as she sees so much com- pany. By the bye, did you ever meet with Lord Philip Wenbourne, Mrs. Shenstone's second cousin once re- moved? Such a very agreeable young man, and so ISOLINA. 363 handsome! He was with us at Homburg, and I always thought he had such a look of your captain. Oh, I beg your pardon But I assure you, if you saw him, you would think it quite a compliment." "As you mention Homburg, that reminds me. Have you ever heard what has become of your friend Fraiulein von Gotzen?" "She never was my friend; I couldn't bear her. She has gone back to Germany, I believe. I pitied her, though, for she was with such disagreeable people. You don't know the Honorable Mrs. Taunton, do you?" "No. . "Her daughter, who was my pupil," continued Miss Carr, "is such a sweet girl, but Mrs. Taunton torments her out of her life. I never saw people so changed for the worse as they both are. I met them last at Baden- Baden; the daughter looks as if she was going off in a consumption, and the mother, who used to be a pretty woman, is grown quite old and plain; everybody won- dered at the black spots in her skin,-all owing to paint: she used to lay it on so thick. Then poor Emma is still unmarried, which must be a great disappointment; but it is her mother's fault; for when she was sixteen-and she is now nearly twenty-she was desperately in love with her cousin Algernon Fitzwalter, the youngest son of Lord Hopefield; but, though his eldest brother is heir to twenty thousand a year, Algernon has only about three hundred a year and his pay in the Guards,-not more than will pay for his uniform, and he is over head and ears in debt besides; so Mrs. Taunton wouldn't hear of it." "I am sorry to seem rude," said Isolina, who had long struggled with her impatience, and tried to appear atten- tive, "but I require some rest after my concert, and "Oh, don't be on any ceremony with me, my dear; I can't stay, either, as the carriage is waiting, and I was quite forgetting my message from Mrs. Shenstone: she wants you to sing at her concert next Wednesday even- ing. Now do, there's a dear." "My engagement to Signor Metero will prevent my singing anywhere without his leave." . - I,. page: 364-365[View Page 364-365]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 364-365 364 ISOLINA. "She told me to offer you ten pounds if you will sing the same song that you sung at Metero's concert." "I will write to Mrs. Shenstone, if you leave her ad- dress." "You need not do so; I do all her writing and that sort of thing. But I must go. Am I to tell her you refuse to sing? I think she would give twenty guineas." "Pray say it is out of my power at present." "Perhaps another time." Miss Carr jumped up, and in her haste dropped a transparent pocket-handkerchief trimmed with lace. Isolina stooped to pick it up, but it was received without thanks. It was scarcely possible to restrain a smile at the airs and graces with which Vic- toria Carr caricatured rather than imitated the indif- ference and ease of a fine lady, as she bestowed an en- couraging nod on her cousin at parting. As soon as she had driven off, Isolina gave Rebecca special instructions not to admit that lady again without first bringing up her card. The next morning Mr. Bryant appeared with a bundle of newspapers. Some contained highly laudatory articles, in which Isolina's voice and her style of singing were pro- nounced superior to those of the greatest favorites in the opera: these were, of course, the compositions of Signor Metero's friends. In others she was as vehemently de- cried, and declared to have misunderstood important passages in the music, and not to have vocal power equal to give full effect to the higher notes: these, again, were written by the hirelings of rival managers. In a few the criticism and praise were more justly distributed; but the severest of all affected tenderness for the young performer, which only rendered the observations more galling whilst predicting failure. "Well, Isolina," said Mr. Bryant, in as cheerful a voice as he could assume, "we must not mind a little abuse: it will only make you better known, and we have the most extensively-read papers on our side. You are not worse off than many an author or statesman in Great Britain, and you must pay something for being a public character." "You say truly," said Isolina, sadly;"and I should ISOLINA. 365 like to draw back into my shell, when it is now impos- sible to do so." "So we all feel at times; but it must be gone through, aind I know you will pass the ordeal bravely. After all, I believe I care mora for this abuse than you lo, eh?" Isolina smiled. "I do care for just criticism! and I am not even above caring for unjust criticism; bit I think I am most annoyed by seeing my name at all .in the columns of a newspaper, and that I cannot avoid." "You bore publicity yesterday, however, without shrinking; nay, you looked handsome, if you will allow me to say so (I don't often pay you compliments), and were more self-possessed than I have ever seen you in a drawing-room. To tell you the truth, Isolina, you came out in a new character." "Oh, Mr. Bryant, you do not know how horrible it was at first, and when I saw all those eyes turned towards me I But I did not feel it long; I felt (yes, I must say so in my own justification),-I felt the artist, the master, and that all my audience must follow as I led,-that I could command their sympathies, and that there was no question of praise or censure, but that all, like myself, were inspired by the music. When it ceased, my poetic dream ceased also, and, sober prose returning, I wished myself again in the darkest corner of the room, rather than to be the object of that noisy applause, which was, indeed, due to Bellini, not to me." "I wish he could have heard you just now, Isolina," said Mr. Bryant. "You were born a musician, and it would have been a shame to coop you up in a school- room all your life, teaching little girls. I have often observed that our misfortunes are our best fortunes; and so it will prove with you." Isolina glanced towards the door of the room where her mother lay, and sighed. "Nay, nay, my dear," continued Mr. Bryant, "I did not allude to your mother's illness. I hope Mrs. Canelli does not suffer." "Isolina I Isolina, " called a querulous voice from within. "Who is speaking of me? Why do you leave me so long? Who are you talking to?'? page: 366-367[View Page 366-367]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 366-367 360 ISOLINA. Isolina was in a minute at her mother's side. "You are always away," Mrs. Camelli continued. "I have not had my tea yet. Has the doctor been here?" "No, mamma: Mr. Bryant-- " "Mr. Bryant! And why does he not come and see me, instead of standing talking with you so long? But nobody cares for me now. I don't like this room. Why did you bring me here?"And the old round of complaints recommenced, which were only stopped by Rebecca ap- pearing with the tray. Isolina returned to the parlor to request Mr. Bryant to leave her. Her mother wanted her constant attendance, and she could not bear that even he should overhear the fretful repinings of a mind weak- ened by disease: with all her-faults, Mrs. Camelli had ever been an affectionate mother, and Isolina now cherished her as a petted child. CHAPTER XXXVII. "Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters where it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. Oh, no! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempest and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken." SHAKSPEARE. BESIDES her engagement with Signor Metero, which was sufficiently advantageous as an introduction to the musical public, Isolina filled up some vacant hours in the week by giving lessons in miisic. Signor Metero good- naturedly granted her likewise permission to sing once at Mrs. Shenstone's. Her reputation was thus spreading beyond the precincts of St. James's Hall, and she was even honored by a command to sing before royalty. A few days after the concert at the palace, she received an invitation to a party at Signor Metero's own house; and, to enable her to accept it with propriety, he offered ISOLINA. 36T her a chaperon in his sister-in-law, a lady of middle age, who, a few years before, had, upon her marriage, retired 4from the stage. Mr. Bryant had left town for a few days, and Isolina had no one to consult. She did not like to offend her patron by declining his invitation, and the lady he offered as her escort, though vulgar, was of undoubted respectability. As they arrived in Signor Metero's drawing-room, Isolina found herself in a strange and motley assemblage, and was not made more comfortable by soon discovering that she had been abandoned -by her escort when requested to favor the company with a song. She could not refuse, and as she sat down to the piano she looked round at the strange faces and stranger dresses before her. Everybody and everything seemed to be in extremes. The languishing manners of some of the ladies, the pertness of others, the fashion of their gowns, the length of curls worn by one style of beauty, the hair drawn back off the forehead to an extraordinary height, all struck her as peculiar. The gentlemen were distinguished by the amount of jewelry, real or false, which they displayed, and by the scent which they had lavishy bestowed on their handkerchiefs. There were exceptions, no doubt, for among artistes of much preten- sion and little merit there were scattered men and women of real talent and accomplishment, whose musical genius and witty conversation delighted their private friends more even than the public. With some of these Isolina had already formed an acquaintance, and she was re- ceived by them with real kindness. As she concluded her song, and was beginning to feel more at her ease, she heard a well-remembered voice of no pleasant association close behind hey: "Well done, little nightingale I May I be allowed to renew an old acquaintance?" She turned and saw Colonel Hervey, and with him Count Jacopo Priuli. "Colonel Hervey!" she exclaimed, keeping her hand back and bowing, " and Count Pfiuli also l" The never-ceasing smile beneath the Venetian's dark mustache slightly increased as he observed, in his bland- est accent, "I did not think to see Miss Camelli here." o, page: 368-369[View Page 368-369]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 368-369 368 - ISOLINA4. "I am delighted to find," said Colonel Hervey, "that you do not mean to hide your talent any longer.- Yon have done the most sensible thing, and," he added, with a flourish of his hand, " the kindest to the public, to come forward, as you have done. Now, may I ask for 'Ah, non giunge'? Nay, I can take no excuse from you! Miss Camelli is an old acquaintance of mine, Signor Metero," he said, turning to the manager, who had an uncomfort- able expression in his countenance, between the fear of offending a fashionable patron and the desire to protect Miss Camelli from impertinent freedom. "I think it is late," said Isolina, " and that I shall not be able to sing again. Where is Signora Metero?" "I My sister is at cards in the next room," replied her host, "so I hope you will favor Colonel Hervey and all here with one more song." This was almost equivalent to a command; and Isolina, not wishing to remain doing nothing till Signora Metero made her appearance, or to join her at! the card-table, where Colonel Hervey could follow her, and where she would have still less protec- tion, sat down to obey. Colonel Hervey stationed hinm- self in front of her, with the deliberate intention of watching her countenance through the song; and it was vain for Isolina to strive not to see his bold stare fixed on her, or not to hear the words, "A monstrously fine girl!" ejaculated by a tall, lanky young man who had joined bim, and stood with his eyeglass on -his eye, gazing with impertinent and stupid admiration. As she finished, Colonel Hervey rose, and, without asking leave, heb introduced "Lord Philip Wenbourne; Miss Camelli, one of your most enthusiastic admirers," Isolina received him with a formal curtsy, and, taking up her music, she requested Signor Metero to Ishow her to the card-room. Colonel' Hervey instantly offered his arm, which she declined, and, taking that of her host, she left the piano. She found her chaperon, however, deep in whist. Signora Metero declared it was quite early; that her carriage had not come, and that she had no intention of going yet. Isolina sat down on a chair beside her in despair, for she saw Colonel Hervey and Lord Philipi hovering at the door, and Signor Metero was ISOLINA. 369 obliged to leave her, to return to the rest of his company. In another minute they were beside her. "If you are tired, Miss Camelli, can I take you home? My carriage is at the door," offered Colonel Hervey. '-Thank you; I am with this lady. I hope Lady Caro- line and your daughters are well?" ,( Quite well. Beatrice told me that she met you at the Duchess of Pedantmere's last summer, before, I be- lieve, you had decided to make your debut at St. James's Hall. But you must not stop there. You would cause quite a sensation on the stage; I always thought so: as Norma, for instance. You don't know how becoming the costume would be to you. Yours is just the style of beauty to suit the character. Eh, Wenbourne? I was telling Miss Camelli she must appear as Norma." Lord Philip stared on, as he said, in reply, "I should think you would make an uncommonly fine Norma." ' 1I am not going on the stage," said Isolina, rising, but not knowing very well where to go to escape from her two admirers. "Nay, don't rise," pursued Colonel Hervey: " ayou see your chaperon is too busy to leave this for another hour,--unless, indeed, you will allow me to lead you back to the piano." "No, I thank you," said Isolina, sitting down again. "I see you have not forgiven me for what occurred when' last I saw you," said Colonel Hervey, in a: low voice, drawing a chair near hers and sitting down. "I do not think about it, sir." "I must come and see you-and explain; but tell me where vou live." "I receive no visitors." "Lady Caroline will want you to sing at her concerts next month." "She can then learn my address." ( You are just the same as you ever were, Miss Camelli, -the most inveterate little prude I ever fell in with; but if you were charming when I last saw you, I can tell you that you have grown fifty times more charming since." "Colonel Hervey, these compliments give me no pleas- ure," said Isolina, rising, determined, at all events, not Q* page: 370-371[View Page 370-371]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 370-371 370 ISOLINA. to sit down again. She walked into the other room, and was not long in finding Signor Metero. "I wish to go home," she said. "Cannot you send for a cab for me, and make my excuse to your sister?" "My cab is at your disposal," said a voice at her ear, and, looking up, she saw Count Jacopo Priuli. "Allow me," he added, "to hand you into it, and to direct the man. You will be perfectly safe. You are right to go," he added, as Signor Metero was called away, and Isolina found herself alone with him. Just then she saw Colonel Hervey again approaching. "Yes, yes, thank you 1" she exclaimed, hurriedly: "I shall be glad to accept your offer." She took his arm,-and they descended the stairs. "I am sorry to see you here," continued Count Jacopo; "Signor Metero is a most respectable person, and the company, if not always the most select as to fashion is composed of very worthy people, quite unexceptionable as a rule; but the host cannot keep out men of the stamp of Colonel Hervey and Lord Philip, and my advice to you is to refuse all such invitations in future, and to shut your door to visitors, except intimate friends and relations. May I be allowed to claim cousinship? You must have long known that I am a nephew of Count Michieli." They had reached the street-carriage, into which he handed her, and Isolina was obliged to give him her address for the coachman. She felt lowered, degraded in her own eyes, by the freedom to which she had been subjected, and hastened to her room, to give way to a flood of tears. The next day she renewed her strict orders to Rebecca to bring her the cards of her visitors, and the arrival of Mr. Bryant that afternoon enabled her to relieve her mind by communicating to him what had passed. She blamed her own indiscretion in having accepted the party, and he consoled her by the information that both Lady Camp- bell and the Duchess of Pedantmere were expected in town, and she would therefore have protection enough for the rest of the season. Both Colonel Hervey and Lord Philip called in the course of the day, but were re- fused admittance. Count Priuli waited several days, and, ISO L A. 371 on Isolina being denied, did not return ; but she had a few lines from him, written -in the respectful manner of a gentleman addressing a lady, inquiring after her health, but making no further allusion to their relationship. Colonel Hervey made one or two more unsuccessful at- tempts to see her, and when she sang in public his ap- proach was prevented by the presence of Mr. Bryant or the Campbells. I Isolina found the advantage she had derived from her engagement with Signor Metero; for after it had ceased, she had such numerous offers of extravagant sums to repeat what she had sung at St. James's Hall, or in the palace, that she could not possibly accept one-half. Her engagements, indeed, were so many that it was with diffi- culty Lady Campbell found an afternoon at liberty to carry her for a long drive into the country, and when they were able to talk quietly over all that had passed since they met, and over their schemes for the future. Neither had heard of, or from, Isolina's grandfather, ex- cept in the allusion to him made by Count Jacopo Priuli, which assured them he was still alive. Isolina related all that had passed between Frederick Mowbray and her- self, as well as Lady Elton's subsequent conduct; but she could hardly bring herself to speak of George, even to this her best friend. Lady Campbell, however, had learned all, more'than Isolina knew, from George himself, and still more from Mr. Bryant. She had seen and con- sulted with Alice, and, though she was now quite aware that neither her brother nor Lady Elton would consent to a union between even their younger son and a public singer, she did not think it right that Isolina should be dissuaded, for such a motive, from following the bent of her genius and thus earning an honest independence. She had even refrained from acquainting George that Isolina was of noble birth, and that she might some day assume a name which would obliterate that of her pro- fessional celebrity. If George were ever to marry Isolina, he must love her as she deserved, for herself alone: his vanity or pride was not to be soothed, nor his motive for offering her marriage influenced, by considerations of what the world would say. If Isolina were ever to be " page: 372-373[View Page 372-373]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 372-373 372 ISOL1IA4. made happy by such a union, it could only be by having followed her own honorable path in life, without swerving to the right or to -the left to win a heart which could be turned from her by the breath of prejudice. The day after her drive with Lady Campbell, Isolina received a second summons to sing at the palace. Her mother happened to be more than usually unwell that day, and to require her to be constantly beside her. Mrs. Camelli could seldom bear the sound of the piano, and Isolina's friends, therefore, both Lady Campbell and the Duchess of Pedantmere, had always one at her disposal; but that morning she could not leave her mother, though she knew that much of the success of her evening per- formance depended on a couple of hours' practice be- forehand. The bodily and -mental fatigue of listening to unceasing peevish complaints became at length too much for her, and she requested her faithful attendant to take her place for a quarter of an hour, whilst she went to a shop in the neighborhood. She returned just as the lamps were lighting, and was met at the door by Rebecca, with a note, which, she informed her, had been left by a gentleman five minutes before. Mrs. Camelli was always curious on the subject of notes and letters, and eagerly inquired from whom this came. Isolina broke the seal carelessly, without looking at the address, and instantly involuntarily exclaimed, aloud, "Oh; I am so glad!" "What are you glad of, Isolina?" asked her mother, querulously. "Nothing very particular, mamma," sighed the daugh- ter: " it -is only from Captain Mowbray. He is in town, and is coming to see us." "Who, Isolina?" "George - Captain Mowbray, I mean. I hardly thought I should ever see him again." "And why not, child? Why should we not see him? But I know all that family better than you do, and they are very proud. Lady Elton has never been to see me since we came here, and Ellinor does not come half so often as she might to an old friend. I don't much like your being a singer. My poor papa would have been ISOLINA. 373 very angry; and your own father always said he would not like his daughter to be an actress, and a-singer is the next thing to it; for you know, Isolina, you are of a noble family." "But, dear mamma, I am not going on the stage," said Isolina, in a tone of vexation at reproach from her for whom she had sacrificed so much. "Very near it, child. You need not speak in that cross tone. Of course you can never marry Mr. Mowbray now." "I never thought of marrying him, mamma." "But I am sure he thought of marrying you; so you might have had him if you liked; a very different thing for me from living in these dark lodgings."' "You sha'n't remain in them long now, mamma; we are to move into a more agreeable apartment next week, nearer Lady Campbell, too." "This tea is quite nasty," continued Mrs. Camelli, finding a fresh cause for grumbling. "I am sure we might afford better. At the cottage, Lady Elton always sent me the best tea, and we had cream too, and not this poor milk." Rebecca happily entered at this moment, and Mrs. Camelli found in her a more sympathizing listener than her daughter on the subject of her complaint. Isolina had thus leisure to read over her note carefully. It ran as follows: "My DEAREST ISOLINA,-I am in town for three days, and I must see you. I have only just learned your address from my aunt. I shall call with this, and if you are not at home I shall call again later, say ten o'clock, before you go -to the duchess's, where I hear you are engaged this evening. 'I shall be there also; but, as I have to start for Portsmouth early to-morrow, this is my only chance of seeing you alone once more before a long absence. "Yours ever, "G. MXT." "Did you tell Captain Mowbray, Rebecca, that I am to sing at the palace to-night?"' 32 \ page: 374-375[View Page 374-375]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 374-375 374 ISOLIVA. "L ja, no, miss I I thought it was at the duchess's you was to sing." "So I am; but not until later. At ten precisely I am to be at the palace, and I shall just miss him!" All Isolina could do was to write a few lines, and acquaint. Captain Mowbray with the reason she should not be at home. But she might, perhaps, see him at the duchess's: that was some consolation. She was obliged to dress immediately, to have an hour's practicing, as Alice was on her way to the palace. She would have gone to Lady Campbell's, but she thought George might be there, and she would not appear to seek him. Isolina's success that evening was even greater than usual, and Lady Campbell, who was present, felt as proud of "her child's" modesty and grace as of her musical talents. She took her in her carriage to the Duchess of Pedantmere's, and on the wav asked her if she had re- ceived a note from Captain Mowbray. Vexed at Isolina's having missed him, she reproached herself for having omitted to tell him the hour of her engagement at the palace. As they entered the Duchess of Pedantmere's brilliant rooms, Sir Roger, who had left the palace half an hour earlier, met them at the door. "Here is George," he exclaimed, "impatient for your arrival, as he must be off by to-night's train for Ports- mouth I I have told him of this evening's success." Isolina's heart beat rapidly, and the flush which rose to her cheeks made her only the more lovely, as she met the eyes of her lover. Her dress was richer than he had ever' seen her wear before, but always in the same simple taste which became her best. A small diamond clasp fastened the velvet round her finely-formed throat, and a diamond brooch confined the ribbon which bound her luxuriant hairl: both were gifts from royal personages, testimonials of her success. - Only a few words passed between her and Captain Mowbray, but they were enough- to convince her that his heart was still her own. They were inter- rupted by a message from the singers collected round the piano, whose arrangements had been disconcerted by the late arrival of Miss Camelli. She was hurried away, and Lady Campbell could read in her nephew's countenance ISOLINA. 3T5 the pain it gave him to see his beautiful Isolina standing in the midst of persons whose appearance marked them so much her inferiors, and still more when she began a duet, full of tender expressions, 'with a young man who had probably never known society superior to that of the green-room in a theatre. The charm of her voice grad- ually had its effect -upon Captain Mowbray, as well as upon the rest of the audience. He forgot to be hyvper- critical on a perfectly harmless act, or to imagine evil in a young man whose antecedents might be quite as blame- less as his own. He was lost in enjoyment, until, as Isolina ceased, his pain returned with the applause, fol- lowed by remarks and comments on all sides, which, though spoken in praise, were still treating Isolina, or her talents, as a subject the public had full right to discuss.. After enduring this torture a quarter of an hour he sud- denly seized Lady Campbell's hand, and whispered to her that he must go. "I can't stay here," he added; "I can- not speak to her again, surrounded as she is. Dearest Aunt Ellinor, persuade her to give this up. Good-by." Pushing his way through the fashionable crowd& who filled the landing-place and staircase, he hurried from the house, and was soon on his way to Portsmouth. Isolina was receiving the thanks of the Duchess of Pedantmere, and compliments from many of her guests, who were eager to be presented to the beautiful song- stress, when she caught sight-of a-face inii the crowd? which made her turn pale. Alice instantly noticed her' change of countenance; but, looking round, she saw nothingto occasion it, unless the sight of Sir Thomas Fan. shaw with Elgiva hanging on his arm; and that, was not likely now ito cause such emotion. She did not see, or, if she saw, she did not associate in any way with Isolina, the fine old Venetian head with the keen eyes fixed on the successful artiste. The next moment the face had disappeared, and Isolina, recovering her composure, ad- dressed Elgiva and Sir Thomas with her usual grace aind courtesy, and received equally friendly politeness in re- turn. As a governess, Isolina had depended on others for the position she might be allowed -to hold. -As a singer, she was her own mistress, and, however her pro- page: 376-377[View Page 376-377]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 376-377 376 ISOLINA. fession might be regarded, she had her home; whilst her rare natural gift enabled her to earn an independence and gave her a conscious power and right to demand that respect and deference which she now enjoyed in common with those whose claims rested on wealth or rank. Sir ,Thomas Fanshaw was profuse in compliments and thanks, which Elgiva repeated in still more exaggerated terms. There was no question of rivalry; of superior or inferior: each moved in her own path, and Isolina was the rage of the day. "Beatrice is in the next-room, with papa," con. eluded Elgiva. "Mamma seldom goes out to late parties now, and is not here; but they will be quite disappointed if they do not succeed in making their way to you, though I do not think it possible. Papa is one of your greatest admirers." "I shall probably meet your sister, as I am now going to join Lady Campbell." "Let me offer you my arm," said Sir Thomas; and as he spoke he dropped Elgiva, and, making room, Isolina perceived Count Priuli behind him. He bowed, gave his arm to Elgiva in place of her husband, and whispered to Isolina, as she passed, "You were perfect to-night. I con- gratulate you on your triumph." Moving every one aside by a touch with his opera-hat, Sir Thomas Fanshaw pioneered Isolina through the crowd, and made his way with marvelous rapidity, as- sisted by the curiosity which induced every person to con- tract his or her person to allow them to pass, whilst en- deavoring to gain a nearer view of the beautiful songstress. It signifies little in London whether the lion of the season be a Chinese ambassador, the greatest hero of the age, the exiled liberal, or the executioner of a tyrant, the- man of genius, or the favorite' opera-dancer, a lion is a lion, whom all like to see, and, what is more important, to say they have seen. As Isolina looked around her, Sir Thomas Fanshaw assured her that Colonel and Miss Hervey were not far off. It was not those, however, whom she really sought. She was looking in the direction in which that face had disappeared, and, as soon as she reached Lady Campbell, she declared that she was sure Miss Hervey must have left, and begged Sir Thomas to return to Elgiva. IsOLIiAr - 37t ,' You look tired, my love," said Lady Campbell, anx- iously. "Would you like to return home? George has left us. He was obliged to go." "Do not let us leave yet," said Isolina, sitting down. "I have seen my grandfather." ,( In this room?" asked Lady Campbell, with astonish- ment. 4( Yes, there." And Isolina turned her head towards the spot where he had been. "Not five minutes ago. He van- ished in a moment." "We shall soon ascertain if you have not been mig- taken, my dear," said Lady Campbell, who began to think this might have been the effect of a heated imagination. Turning to Sir Roger, she informed him whom Isolina supposed she had seen, and they determined to move tdwards the door by which the old count must have left, had he ever been in the room. The duke was standing near it, and Lady Campbell took the opportunity to ask him if there was a foreigner of the name of Michieli among his guests. "He has just gone. Do you know him? He is a Venetian, and has. brought me an introduction from my old friend the Prince of G--. He has his nephew with him. They are at Mivart's; but I do not think Count Priuli has left. You know him, of course? He is everywhere in London." "Yes, I know him slightly; and we made the acquaint. ance of Count Michieli a year and a half ago, in Milan." "Allow me to thank you, Miss Camelli, for the pleasure you have this evening afforded us,'" proceeded the duke. "That last song was charming. I am no judge of music, but I can assure you that I was quite fascinated by it." Isolina bowed her' thanks for the compliment. "And you, Lady Campbell," be con- tinued, "you must be proud of the success of your young friend, for I know that in congratulating Migs Camelli I am congratulating you. But I must not detain you. I have only a few words to say to Sir Roger, if you will allow me," He drew Sir Roger aside into a window, where they could converse unheard, and during' a full half-hour, whilst they were discussing a political 32* page: 378-379[View Page 378-379]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 378-379 378 ISOLINA. question, the ladies, especially Isolina,:-were in a feverish state of anxiety to return home. As Count Michieli could not be found that evening, both were eager to talk about George and to consider future plans. CHAPTER XXXVIII. "Claims of kith and kin connection, Claims of manner, honor still, Ready money of affection Pay,--whoever drew the bill; With the form conforming duly, Senseless what it meaneth truly." A. H.- CLOUGe. THE day after the duchess's concert, Sir Roger Camp- bell called at Mivart's to inquire for Count Michieli, and was disappointed to hear that he had started early that morning for the Continent. Count Jacopo Priuli was, however, in the house, and the waiter was sure he would be glad to see Sir Roger. He sent up his card, and was immediately invited to walk up-stairs, and was received by Count Priuli with the utmost urbanity. After apolo- gizing for his early visit, Sir Roger explained its object was Count .Michieli, and expressed his regret at having missed him. "My uncle, Sir Roger, will probably be in Venice in a few days. He received an unexpected summons to return after having only been one fortnight in London; and he left England the more unwillingly as he proposed to have paid a visit to-day which must now be necessarily de- ferred to some future time. I mention this because I know how interested you are in the lady for whom the' visit was intended." ; "Count Michieli- was last night at a concert at the Duchess of Pedantmere's?" asked Sir Roger. "He was, and I accompanied him. It -would not be easy to forget the delight we both experienced in the voice of Miss Camelli. You were there likewise?" t ISOLINA. 3.79 "Yes, with Lady Campbell. We took charge of that young lady." "She is fortunate in such protectors : she needs them; and it must be difficult for a young foreigner-as she is, at least by name--to make herself known in this busy world of London. Her father's reputation as an actor of some celebrity may be of use to her." "Certainly," replied Sir Roger; "though her own merits are sufficient to establish her claim to notice. tYou are, of course, aware that Count Michieli- and you yourself are related to this lady?" "I am; and also that unfortunate circumstances have led to her present necessity to appear in public. My uncle is a stern character, and he cannot forgive my cousin for having brought what he considers a disgrace upon the family. The sins of the father, are here truly visited on the child. Nevertleless, he has been so touched by my cousin's beauty and ,agthat, had he not been so suddenly called away, I believe it to have been his intention to make some provision for her, to prevent the necessity of these exhibitions. You will pardon the word, Sir Roger; I have a little of my uncle's pre- judices." "You quite mistake Miss Camelli's character, sir, if you suppose that she would accept charity even from her grandfather." "Charity I You mistake me, my dear sir; I only mean that if my uncle can prove to his satisfaction that -of which, of course, there is no doubt-Miss Camelli is the daughter of his son, he would wish to settle such an allowance on her as to make her independent. I am afraid that I do not explain myself rightly--that my. foreign idiom may cause some misunderstanding." "Not at all; you speak admirable, English. I per- fectly understand you." "'I hope I have not given you offense. It is natural that you, who have known the young lady from her child- hood, and LadyvCampbell, who has been a second mother to her, should feel anxious for her interests; but it is equally natural that my uncle, whose displeasure against his son continued to his death, should hesitate to adopt page: 380-381[View Page 380-381]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 380-381 380 -'ISOLINA. . as his heiress a granddaughter he has seen only twice in his life."? "Certainly: we -must allow time. But none can know Miss Camelli without acknowledging it to be an honor to be connected with her." "Undoubtedly. I have rarely, if ever, met with a young lady so attractive, whose charms would indeed so grace the highest position in life. You may not perhaps also know, Sir Roger, that I, as my uncle's nearest male relation, am likewise his declared heir, and, as I have, been educated in England, the means are not impossible which might smooth over all difficulties and enable Count Mi- chieli to do justice to the memory of his son. It is his desire that a union should take place between the lad and myself; and I am not unwilling; but Miss Cameix clings. to the dogmas of the religion in which she has1 been brought up. She is attached to England, and she is a public singer. This last objection the acceptance of my uncle's offer would at once set aside; the other! two her own good sense may in time overcome. She may not fancy my person, and my age may appear unsuit- able, as n m considerably her senior; but, if I itm allowed opportunities of seeing her, I hope that these will not always continue obstacles in the way of my hopes." "The opportunities you desire, count, shall not be wanting,"' said Sir Roger, with a half-suppressed smile, "as I am sure Lady Campbell will always be happy to see you at her house, where Miss Camelli is with us daily. But I must warn you that you have a rival in the field; and that if Miss Camelli has not given her word she has almost given her heart to another; who only waits for her consent to make her his wife. I believe this con- fidence is not misplaced, and, as her relation as well as proposed suitor, I think it right you should be acquainted with the circumstance." "I feel grateful for the trust with which you honor me, and I .will give myself the pleasure of calling on , Lady Campbell." The conversation now took a general turn, and shortly afterwards Sir Roger took his leave. Isolina and. her mother had removed into a pretty, ISOLINA. ' 381 though small, apartment near Wilton Place, where they were able to receive such visitors as, sanctioned by Lady Campbaiwwere unexceptionable. in character, and who could be accepted as friends, by Isolina. These visits helped to amuse Mrs. Oamelli, who had sufficiently re- covered her health to sit in an arm-chair, and whenever she could find a patient listener she would pour out her usual list of complaints. Isolina's success brought back recollections of halcyon days, when A;husband's fame filled long columns of the newspaper; every luxury she could desire was provided for her, and, had it not been for the progress of the disease which was undermining her constitution and threatened to cut short her days of prosperity, Mrs. Camelli might have been happy; and now, indeed, when she had real bodily suffering/- she grum- bled less, and became more thoughtful for others, more devoted in her affection to her daughter. Isolina, mean- time, felt she was gaining the respect and esteem of those who had first courted her society for her talents. Her various accomplishments, the reserve of her manners, her scrupulous selection of those whom she received in her house, and the self-confidence she had acquired, enabled her to assert her position with modesty and dignity. Isolina was with Lady Campbell when Count Priuli paid his promised visit. He made himself so agreeable on this occasion that Lady Campbell was even more charmed with him than the young lady whose heart he intended to win. To her he was amiable and respect- ful, whilst assuming more than ever before his -right of cousinship. He addressed her less than Lady Campbell, but in delicate little attentions that could not fail to please; if not flatter, Isolina; whilst his powers of conversation, his acute observations on men and manners, his stores of information, as well as experience of the world, pleasantly given forth, and his lively wit and humor, amused and: de- lighted both ladies. Isolina returned home with her head so full of Count Jacopo Priuli, who appeared to her in quite a new character, that she half ]aughingly reproached herself that evening for having hardly once thought of George. Count Jacopo, however, had by no means fixed his * r- ' - page: 382-383[View Page 382-383]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 382-383 382 ISOLINrA. affections on his fair cousin. There were reasons which made it probable, nay, possible, that a marriage with Isolina might prove most advantageous to himr.; but, again, should he be able to make sure of his uncle's for- tune for himself, unburdened by a wife,-and of this he had not yet lost hopes,--or if Isolina should be cut off from all share in the expected wealth, an alliance with an English family, who might bring Count Jacopo influen- tial friends as well as fortune, would be important. Sir Thomas Fanshaw had introduced him to Colonel Hervey, and he had lately spent much of his time with that family. He was flattered by Lady Caroline's attentions, and she found him an agreeable addition to her parties. Beatrice had appeared to him the most fascinating girl he had yet met with, and he had been allowed to escort her and her sister, Lady Fanshaw, in their rides. Sir Thomas was no equestrian, and he was satisfied that Beatrice would, in her own interest, keep good watch over Elgiva's flirting propensities. There were other propensities, in- deed, of which Sir Thomas was less aware, and he little suspected the sums his wife had gambled away with Count Priuli, in which the cool, skillful man of the world had greatly the advantage over the presumptuous and ignorant woman of twenty. Their last visit to New- market bad cost Sir Thomas a considerable sum of money, s but he only knew of a small part of his wife's debts of honor, and was in too great admiration of her spirit and talent to scan her conduct too curiously. As to Beatrice, Lady Caroline had no idea of Count Jacopo not being the most eligible of chaperons. She had the usual in- sular prejudice about foreigners, hardly regarding them , as the same human beings as Englishmen; therefore, whilst acknowledging Count Priuli's accomplishments, and satisfied that he was quite a gentleman, she never dreamt of her daughter condescending to fall in love with an Italian; nor would Beatrice have run any such risk had she had anything better to do, and had not that Italian been the most clever and original man she had ever met with,-quite refreshing after the fade conventionality of every-day London life, and as English in his ways and habits as any of her countrymen. * EISOLINA. 383- Whilst his nephew was playing his own game in Eng- land; Count Michieli had reached Venice. Ever since he first saw Isolina at Milan, he hajd yearned to see her again, and he thought that if he could restore her to the inheritance as well as to the affections which should have belonged to her father, he could in some measure ab- solve his conscience from the sin of harshness to a beloved son. With this view, he had revisited England after the lapse of many years, but, before presenting himself, he had resolved to watch her conduct, in order to steer his own accordingly. On his arrival in London he had been immediately joined by his nephew. Count Jacopo hoped that if his uncle could once see Isolina exhibiting before the public,--treated, considered, and spoken of as a paid professional artiste,--he would forever renounce the idea of acknowledging her as his granddaughter. For a fort- night, he had contrived to amuse Count Michieli with the sights and society of a fashionable London life; but as soon as he had ascertained that his cousin was to sing at the concert of the Duchess of Pedantmere, he had taken his uncle to call there, with his letter of introduction. The invitation immediately followed, which Count Mi- chieli as readily accepted, though he was not aware- that Miss Camelli was that night to sing. He was, therefore, taken by surprise when he recognized in the prima donna Isolina, the child of his blood, the natural heiress to his wealth. He hastened back to the hotel; and when his nephejw returned, he found him seated before the fire, so lost in his meditations that he did not perceive Count Jacopo had entered the room until .he was close beside him. A short conversation followed, on which Isolina's future prospects appeared to depend. "Jacopo," he said, without changing his attitude, and addressing him in Italian, " she is the image-of my son." "She is very like her father, undoubtedly," replied Count Jacopo; "and not only in face, but, I am told, likewise in disposition." "You think, then, that she will not consent to relin- quish a profession in which she meets with such success, and that she will prefer it to considerations of family honor and dignity?" page: 384-385[View Page 384-385]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 384-385 884 ISOL1.NA. Jacopo shook his head. "I think differently," pursued Count Michieli. "There is some difference between a headstrong man (I spoiled him; it was my fault) and a woman, young, well edu. cated, as I hear, and who has only resorted to ithis profession to assist her invalid mother, not to gratify her own taste or pleasure. Her friends, if not she herself will-see the advantages of fortune and that rank which is hers by right." Assuredly; but you attach certain conditions to both.' "My conditions are not hard," said Count Michieli. "It is true that she has been brought up with certain reli. gious prejudices. What woman has not? I would, there. fore, only desire an outward conformity to our faith, in order to prepare for a union with you, by which I may do justice to her, and to you likewise." 4 I must not be in the way of my fair cousin, my dear uncle." "You have been an obedient, faithful, attached nephew, Jacopo, and you have fulfilled all my hopes: that you have not replaced my Enrico to me is no fault of yours, nor that our political ideas differ. I would be just: I readily waive that condition I once imposed on Isolina, which would oblige her and her mother to reside with me; but if a union could be ultimately effected between you and her, all difficulties would vanish: you would take th6 name of Michieli, in addition to your own, and the fortunes of two ancient families be restored. As a first step, I propose to call on Sir Roger Campbell, and I hope to persuade Isolina to accept an annuity from me, which will at once relieve her from the necessity of fol: lowing any profession." "I wish you may succeed. When do you propose to see her?" asked Count Jacopo. "To-morrow. Good-night." Count Michieli was leaving the room, when his nephew suddenly recollected that a letter addressed to his uncle had been left that very morning at the hotel. As Count Michieli was out at the time, Jacopo had laid it aside for him, and had since forgotten to deliver it. His uncle examined the seal and the handwriting of the address ISOLINA. 385 385 carefully before opening it, and then read it deliberately through. Count Jacopo remarked that his hands shook a little, and that he turned rather paler than usual. There was, however, no perceptible change of countenance when refolding the letter, he said, in a perfectly-composed voice, that the information it contained would oblige him to start early the next day for Venice. His nephew made no inquiry concerning the reason for this recall, but desired to know if there were any bad news. Count Michieli smiled, and reassured him; but there was something in the smile less reassuring than his words, and the look which passed between the uncle and the nephew, as they parted the following day, had more of suspicion than confidence on both sides. CHAPTER XXXTX. "We two had sung like gladsome birds in May: When we began to tire of childish play, We seemed still more and more to prize each other; We talked of marriage and our marriage day. And I, in truth, did love him like a brother, For never could I hope to meet with such another." WORDSWORTH. CAPTAIN MOWBRAY'S ship was detained by orders from the Admiralty, and his first thought after he arrived in Portsmouth was to write to Isolina. He told her how much pain it had given him to see her before the public, and how he desired her return into private life, and added that he would not thus presume to control her actions did he not intend at the same time again to offer her his hand in marriage without waiting to consult his parents. He begged, he entreated her to consent with- out longer delay, and to allow him to support her and her mother in some retired part of the country until they were able to avow their marriage. One line from her would bring him back to London, as he was not to sail from Portsmouth for several weeks. R 33 page: 386-387[View Page 386-387]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 386-387 386 ISOLINA. It never perhaps occurred to Captain Mowbray that Inis offer was purely selfish; that, whilst he was to be at full liberty to live in the world among his friends, Isolina was to lead a life of complete solitude,-to be immured for an indefinite time in a country home, debarred from all free communication with the world around her, and to bury her talent in obscurity, with only the uncertain prospect at some future day of being rewarded by his acknowl- edging her as his wife. Isolina sat down to- answer this letter, with mingled feelings of happiness at the proof of her lover's affection and of uneasiness at his desire to keep up a mystery for which she could see no necessity. "Do not suppose," she proceeded to write, " though I refuse to consent to your wishes, that my love for you is less than yours for:me. I have consulted no one, for I have this moment received vour letter. I have not even seen Lady Campbell, who, I am aware, you think influences all my decisions; but my own feelings revolt against a secret marriage. I reproach myself with ingratitude to- wards you as I write this, but I mean to impute nothing wrong to you. It is one thing, however, for you to offer me a home, another for me to take advantage of your generosity, to accept the sacrifice, and thus to injure you and your parents. I could no longer respect myself were to consent. How, then, could I ever demand respect from others, and, abovefall others, from you? I even fear that in forfeiting ydur respect I should likewise for- feit your love. Do not tempt me to act contrary to my conviction of right. And as to- my present profession, if I am doing nothing wrong, why should I be ashamed of it?" After Isolina had dispatched her letter she felt her mind relieved, and she prepared with a lighter heart for a concert at Mrs. Shenstone's. She looked so bright that when she bade her mother good-night tMrs. Camelli could not help remarking it: "How handsome you are looking, Isolina! and, oh, how very like your dear papal" Her daughter only answered by an affectionate kiss, and, charging Rebecca to watch over her mother in her ab- sence, she ran lightly down-stairs, whilst her old and- ISOLINA. o v 387 faithful attendant, holding her candle above her head thought there was nobody so beautiful in all the world as Miss Isolina. As she reached the steps-of the car- riage, her foot slipped, and she would have fallen but for the timely assistance of a gentleman passing. As she recovered herself, he handed her into the carriage, and, the lamplight falling on his face, she recognized Count Jacopo. "Be more cautious, my fair cousin," he said, smiling. "You are not hurt, I hope? But one false step may give you cause for years of repentance. I hope to see and to hear you in a few minutes. You are on your way to Mrs. Slhenstone's?"And, almost before she could reply, he hastened on. Isolina was late, and had been anxiously expected. Sir Roger Campbell, though engaged to-another party, had waited to hand her up-stairs, and she was received at the head by Miss Carr, who, in all her glory, -conducted the artiste to the piano. Mrs. Shenstone was a rich widow, and her highest ambition was to-collect the largest number of persons possible within the limits of her drawing-room, and to see her own name figuring the next day in the columns of the Morning Post as the giver of these entertainments or routs As the companion of an old lady so dull in intellect that herfriends universally voted her a bore, Victoria Carr, now a mere votary of rank and fashion, held really a better position and was treated with more indulgence than she could ever have received whilst holding the serious and responsible position of a governess, even though she had been better bred and better educated. Miss Carr, -therefore, was right to rejoice in- her present advantages, and not to damp her enjoyment by looking forward to what a few years might bring forth. Mrs. Shenstone was informed that Miss Camelli had arrived, and the little old lady worked her way through the crowd of guests, making apologies right and left, until she reached the songstress, to pay her the usual compliments. Isolina sang, was encored, and the room rang with applause, whilst Miss Carr conveyed the thanks of Mrs. Shenstone, who was already again at the page: 388-389[View Page 388-389]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 388-389 388 ISOLINA. farther corner, with an impassable barrier between her and the piano. Count Jacopo was beside Isolina, Com- plimenting her on her voice, whilst whispering that music had an additional charm when poured from lips so beautiful. 'His cousin bowed a little haughtily, for, if his words were flattering, the manner of his compliments was too free to give pleasure. "Miss Camelli," said another voice behind her. She looked round, and, with sincere pleasure, saw Frederick Mowbray. On his arm hung Mabel Tierney. Both looked happyj and Mabel's blush, as Isolina held out her hand to her, made it easy to perceive that they were engaged lovers. "I am glad, to see you looking so well," said Frederick, in his old kindly way, " and your success this evening has pleased all your friends." Isolina thanked him. "My father and my mother are here," he con- tinued: " they are trying to make their way up to you, but that is not very easy, surrounded as you are by such a circle of admirers. Here is my mother, however: she always manages to get through a crowd." Lady Elton at that moment came up, full of friendly speeches. She wished to show her entire approbation of Isolina's present position, which she chose to consider suitable, and the more satisfactory because separating the actor's daughter effectually from her and hers,-a public acknowledgment that Isolina was not of the privi- leged caste, but of the hewers of wood and drawers of water on this earth. Isolina understood her praises, and felt them to be a presumption and liberty. She received them coldly, and turned again to Mabel. Poor little Mabel I Her course of true love had' not run very smoothly, either. Lord Elton had welcomed her to his heart, but Lady Elton had not disguised her mortifica- tion at the ambitious hopes and aspirations she had cherished for her eldest son having ended in the portion- less daughter of a gentleman, and one of a large instead of a great family. As there could be no possible objec- tion, however, on this score, since Mabel was at least well-born, she had at last given her consent to the mar- riage, but she received Mabel only in one degree better than Isolina: she was cold and indifferent to her, which ISOLINA. 389 was a constant source of pain to the gentle, tender nature of her future daughter-in-law. Yet Mabel had her share of pride too, and she now stood quietly holding Fred- erick's arm, in spite of the cool indifference with which Lady Elton treated her, and as if in quiet assertion of her right to his protection, until, her father approaching, she left her lover. As she and Isolina stood side by side, Lady Elton could not avoid being struck with the con- trast. Mabel,- with her fair complexion, light, silky hair, ,mild blue eyes, and insignificant little figure, had no pretension to beauty beyond that of youth, as she had no pretension to superiority of any kind beyond that of innocence and of a kind, good hear't; whilst Isolina, with as much innocence and goodness of heart, was as queen- like in her bearing as in her nature; her color was heightened by the excitement of success, and still more by the secret happiness of- knowing herself to be secure of the affection of that being she loved most on earth. Perhaps also there mingled with these purer feelings a sentiment of proud resentment she could not overcome- whlst in the presence of her who alone prevented their union; and such pride was not unbecoming to the classical little head so well poised on her tall figure. Isolina was impatient to return home, and Frederick offered to see her to her carriage. She accepted his arm; but how strange she felt as they descended the stairs together I He seized the opportunity to say, in a low voice, "Isolina, I am happy now: you know the treasure I have found. I did not think I could have loved any one after you." l "I wish you joy from my heart," said Isolina, sin- cerely. " Thank you; I knew you would rejoice for Mabel and for me. But you?" "I too am happy." She could add no more; but Frederick understood her. As her carriage drove up to her door, Rebecca was waiting to receive her. She was in an unusual state of hilarity, and kept up a perpetual flow of talk as she lighted her young mistress up the stairs. "Missus has been in bed these two hours, miss; but, 33* ; page: 390-391[View Page 390-391]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 390-391 390 ISOLINA. just as she had fallen asleep, there was a ring at the bell, which disturbed her. She soon went off again, though." "Who was it, Rebecca?" "I was just going to tell you, miss dear. I was run- ning down-stairs to answer it, when she called to me, and this detained me only a minute; so he pulled "and pulled agrain, until I thought to myself the bell would have broke. Well-" -- "Go on, Rebecca." "Well, I made all the haste I could, but I couldn't be in two places at once, could I, miss?" "Of course not. Oh, I am so tired, Rebecca I Ican hear about it to-morrow; I must go to bed now. Was there any note for me?" "No, miss; but, as I was saying, when I got tolthe foot of the stairs, the candle blew out, and I had to open the door in the dark, and a gentleman pushed past me. I couldn't tell it was a gentleman then, and I thought I should have fainted, and then I was afeared missus would be driv' into another fit." "Who was it that could be so impertinent? and what did he want?" "It was just Captain Mowbray, miss; and H-" "Captain Mowbray in town!" "He asked my pardon for being so bold, but said he wanted so particular to see you,--and--" {' Well, and what did you say?" "I said you was engaged to sing at Mrs. Shenstone's, and I told him I took him for one of the Italian singing gentlemen as comes to practice with you sometimes of a morning; and then he did look at me rather angry-like, and tore up a note he had just begun to write." "How could you, Rebecca?" said Isolina, in a tone of vexation. "He said he would call again to-morrow, miss: so it doesn't much matter, do it?" "' What does not matter?" "Your not seeing him to-night.'" Isolina went to bed, but she could not close her eyes. i' She frequently rose and paced her room, till, towards morning, she fell into a heavy sleep. Rising later than ISOL[INA. 391 usual, it was past nine before she entered the parlor, after having paid her usual visit to her mother. The first object she beheld was George, standing before a table, on which lay her portfolio of music, whilst every vacant corner was strewn withl cards and notes. I -The meeting was a joyful one to both. How and why George had left his ship for a few days, was soon ex- plained. He had, of course, not received her answer to his letter, which she had sent off only the evening before, and he came to urge his suit in person. "The longer you continue before the public," he con- tinued, " the more difficult will it be to reconcile my pa- rents to the idea of our marriage; and yet you and your mother must be provided for. If we were married, I could provide all you need; and if I were to die, you would bear my name, inherit all I possess, and in such a case, I am sure, be received with affection as a daughter, even by my mother. Why throw away years of happiness? Why waste life in delays? Why wait till we grow old? H know-you would urge duty; but surely we have a duty to ourselves; and why are we both to be sacrificed for my parents' pride or pleasure?" "Is it not to bend to what even you yourself call their 'pride' that you propose concealment?" said Isolina. "No: what I do I shall do openly; I will never live a false- hood, or be led into the perpetual danger of wronging your parents or you. Let me consult Lady Campbell." "She is too scrupulous: she will never be persuaded," said George. "Then neither will I," said Isolina, firmly. "Dear George, we must act according to our consciences, and leave the future to Providence." "You do not love me, Isolina, as I love you." "I do, George; you know I do. What should I not gain by consenting to your scheme H To be relieved from the necessity of a profession which, in many ways, is painful to my feelings; to see my mother and myself at ease for life; but more even than this,--to yield, even against my judgment, to your desires, to be secure of your unchanging affection, without which I think I should now die. Can your love surpass mine? But there is one thing page: 392-393[View Page 392-393]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 392-393 392 ISOLINA. we both love more, and that is our duty. Speak to Lady Campbell, get her approbation, and I will do whatever you please." It was long before George could be persuaded to con- sult his aunt; but, once resolved, he lost no time in putting his resolution into effect. As he was hastening along the streets towards Lady Campbell's, he met his brother Frederick. "Where do you drop from, George?"Frederick ex- claimed. "I thought you were seventy miles off at least " "So I was a few hours ago, and I did not mean to have been found out playing truant now. Remember, Fred, I am incog." "Where do you come from, and where are you going?" "I am on my way to Aunt Ellinor." "Who is, then, I presume, in your secret." "And I come from Isolina." "So I concluded. Give me your arm; I will walk with ,you as far as Wilton Place." "How is Mabel? I suppose you will be a married man long before I return from my cruise off Canada. I am sorry that I shall not be at the wedding." "So am I, my dear fellow; and so, I am sure, will Mabel be. But tell me about Isolina; I have hardly ventured to inquire since the day you told me that you had urged her not ito sing in public. She has been very successful; and, though I also regretted her resolution, I cannot but approve her motives, and the world appears to appreciate them also. She is as much respected as she is admired; and that is saying a great deal. If Mabel can forgive the continuation of my deep interest in Isolina, I need not ask your pardon." "Would that she had yielded to my wishes You probably guess I had some object in view in returning so suddenly from Portsmouth. I found on my arrival there that my ship would not sail for another three weeks, and I then hoped there was yet time for me to adopt the only means by which I could claim authority over Isolina and put a stop to these public exhibitions." "You propose to marry her, then, without further de- lays?" ISOLINA. 393 "Exactly." "And my mother,-how will you overcome her scru- ples?" "( Of course I mean to persuade Isolina to a private niarriage. I am now on my way to Aunt Ellinor, to get lier to support my cause." "Isolina, then, refuses?" "That is my difficulty." "A rather serious one, too." "She is obstinate,-very obstinate; that is her fault of character. She has taken it into her head that a secret marriage is wrong, is derogatory; and she would rather go on with a profession which she declares to be dis- agreeable to her in many respects, than make both of us happy. She has scruples I doenot understand." "I think I do, George. Why don't you propose to marry her publicly? Why don't you speak to my father? He would be sure to second you with my mother."' "How would even you, Fred, like to read in the papers of the marriage in high life between the Honorable Cap- tain Mowbray and the celebrated singer Signorina Ca- melli?" "I should not make any objection." ". Besides, I have not the means at present to support her in the style in which my wife should appear. I love Isolina as devotedly as man can love woman; but so much the more would it distress me to see her deprived of all that a lady requires. Whether in London or the country, she must have her carriage of some kind, her maid, and her footman, and I must have a good cook, to show some hospitality to my friends. -No one gives a dinner now without champagne, and everything in good style; and it is all so expensive. You are a lucky dog to be an eldest son, Fred." "Yet you propose to marry Tsolina?" "But only privately. I could place her and her mother in some quiet country home: say in Wales. She has never been accustomed to luxuries, and I could give her all she could want with her simple tastes to make her happy,-a garden, and so forth. Her history would be forgotten in a year or two, and I then could acknowledge R* page: 394-395[View Page 394-395]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 394-395 3 941 ISOLINA. her as my wife to my father, and that would be time enough to get him to speak to my mother. I could take Isolina abroad for another year, as Mrs. Camelli is not likely to live son long; and if she did, Isolina would be my wife, and would do as I desired. In a few years, too, I should be a richer man, as old Uncle John can't last long, either, and the Cornish estate comes to me. Isolina would be received in society as my wife, and few would remem- ber what she has been. Of course I should not allow her to sing, except when quite by ourselves." "Your idea of married life is so completely for the ad- vantage of the husband,-such a despotism, George,-I think you will find a rebellious subject in Isolina. I would not venture as much with my gentle Mabel." "Am I not proposing to support her and her old sick mother? Is it not to save her, Fred, from a life so utterly distasteful that I am now here? Isolina knows me too well, I trust, not to believe all I do will be prompted by my affection for her." Frederick's silence irritated George a little, and he continued,'in a tone of defense,-- "Have I not shown her my love by desiring so ar- dently to marry her now when my means are limited, and by forgiving her open defiance of my opinion, .my wishes?! I feel she is dear to me in spite of my reason, and I could make -any sacrifice for her sake." "Any but the one you ought to make,--the sacrifice of your pride," said Frederick, gravely. "Act a manly part to her, to yourself; acknowledge your love, marry her openly. You say her tastes are simple: why, then, talk of carriages and cooks and champagne as necessaries of life? Be contented to share her sinlple pleasures; and with such a wife, so good, so accomplished, so beautiful, you may be proud, prouder than if she were the highest- born in the land. You must pardon me, George, if I speak too frankly. I know your nature; and I cannot believe that vanity or family pride will allow you to act an ungenerous part towards an unprotected girl whom you say you love." They were at Lady Campbell's door, and the brothers parted, with coolness on both sides. George did not like ISOLINA. 395 the advice, and Frederick felt pained that his brother should be so unworthy of Isolina. Ellinor was not a little surprised to see her nephew, and still more to hear the purpose for which he had returned to town; but George was more vexed than -he could describe to find his aunt express her entire approbation of Isolina's con- duct. She declared she could never sanction her marry- ing without his parents' knowledge; but she thought it right to inform hirm that one difficulty, that of Isolina's birth, would be removed when they knew that, by her father, she was of noble origin. Lady Campbell related to Captain Mowbray the history of Count Michieli, so far as it was known to herself, and stated her belief that it was possible Isolina might inherit a considerable fortune. She was surprised to find George was less rejoiced at this information than she had expected. He had always looked on Isolina as belonging to his family and de- pendent for everything on them. He had thought of raising, her by a union with himself, of asserting her place in society as his wife; and he had never dreamt of his Isolina (as he called her) bringing higher rank and greater wealth, as well as her beauty and genius, to grace his family. "But I can make an Englishwoman of her," was the conclusion of his reflections, uttered aloud; " and that is better than all foreign countships." "tA very English sentiment!" said Lady Campbell, laughing, "to which Isolina may not agree. Not that she-cares for rank, whether English or foreign; but she honors the country and the people to whom: her father belonged, and with as much reason as you can honor yours." George was not convinced, but he did not care to argue the point. He left his aunt, to hasten back to Isolina, to confess his disappointment, to swear eternal constancy, to make her promise to retire from public life as soon as she had made a small independence, andy when he returned from his next voyage, he promised at all risks to declare his intentions to his parents and to marry, her. Lady Campbell found him still with Isolina when she called two hours later. He left by an afternoon train for page: 396-397[View Page 396-397]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 396-397 396 ISOLINA. Portsmouth. Isolina's eyes were swimming with tears, which coursed one another down her cheeks, and her lips quivered, as she vainly strove to say "farewell." / CHAPTER XL. "But now he comes, convicted of a crime Great by the laws of Venice. Night and day Brooding on what he had been, what he was, 'Twas more than he could bear." ROGERS. COUNT MO IcI T had arrived in Venice as rapidly as steam could convey him. His summons had been from the Austrian governor, with whom, though his liberal tendencies were well known, he had long been on inti- mate terms. Upon his arrival he hastened to the palace, and was graciously received; but questions put on pre- tense of obtaining important political revelations concern- ing the exiles in England soon convinced him that sus- picions were entertained concerning himself. It was difficult to arrive at any certainty whence these suspi- cions had arisen, as Count Michieli's'extreme caution, and the excellent terms he had hitherto maintained with those in authority, had been such as to enable him to exercise an almost unprecedented liberty of speech and action. He had even contrived to elude all domiciliary visits, and prevent the possibilit of obtaining any clue to the political meetings held in his house. The subjects discussed there would have been condemned as treason- able by the foreign rulers who were -endeavoring to crush all patriotic virtue out of the Venetian heart, and who, by rendering null and void the acts of ostensibly liberal in- stitutions which had been provided by the very treaties which sacrificed Venice to Austria for the protection of justice, drove the people to despair and forced them to resort to illegal means and secret societies, destructive alike of the moral sense, moral courage, and material prosperity of a nation. Jacopo Priuli's subserviency to ISOLINA. 397 Austria had occasionally rendered his uncle suspected by the liberal party, whilst increasing the confidence placed in him by the government; but, although Count Michieli had adopted Jacopo as a son, their natures continued as antagonistic as their political creeds. Count Michieli had returned to his palace after his conversation with the governor, and was brooding over thoughts suggested by what had passed between them, when he was interrupted by the entrance of a visitor. This visitor was a plain man, whose dress indicated moderate means, if not actual poverty. His features were not handsome, but the expansive forehead and deep- set, clear gray eyes had a frank, honest expression, which at first sight invited confidence. 'Count Michieli gave a joyful exclamation as he rose to receive his guest. "Moroni, this is a real pleasure. You come at an opportune moment; but how are you in Venice?" "By a happy chance I arrived here yesterday," was the reply, as the speaker, Signor Stefano Moroni, a well- known advocate, advanced and shook hands warmly with the count. ' Have you seen any of our friends?" asked Count Michieli. "I have; and I fear you are in a scrape. I advise you to leave Venice without loss of time. My gondola is at your service." "I cannot," replied the count. "If I were to do so, my property would be confiscated, and I should be goiDg- into voluntary exile. What have I done to incur sus- picion? I have not, as you well know, even dreamt of revolution; for some time past I have had no political friends, and I have been wholly occupied with matters appertaining to my private concerns. I had only been one fortnight in England when I was suddenly recalled to Venice, and at once on my arrival I was invited to a con- versation with the governor. He has been questioning me about A-- and N and other exiles, with whom I have held no communication." "The orders came from Vienna." "How do you know?" 34 page: 398-399[View Page 398-399]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 398-399 398 ISOLINA. "I cannot inform you, but you may rely on my aun. thority." "I am more puzzled than ever." "Where is Jacopo?" "I left him in London." "Did he know of this recall?" "He himself gave me the letter, which had arrived by the post at an hour when I was from home." "Indeed! And may I ask the purpose of your journey to England? I am using the liberty of an old friend, and you will pardon me." "I only fear, Moroni, you may compromise yourself without helping me." "I am not afraid. A man can but do his duty, and those only are true friends who come in need. I will use all caution, and you are not yet even publicly accused; but if my time ever should come, I hope I may be able to bear imprisonment, or even death, as so many thousands of my countrymen have done already. Yet foreigners, as igno- rant of our history as of our language, but with a free press too often shamelessly abused, accuse the race of Gonfalo- nieri, of Pellico, of the Bandieras, of Borelli, of Menotti, of Bonaparte's best soldiers, it may be, of treachery and cowardice, and say they are only fit to be slaves. They cite, without comprehending him, Macchiavelli, and ignore Parini, Leopardi, Giusti. Such cowardly injus- tice, which tramples on the fallen, is worse to bear than the persecutions of our foreign and native tyrants. But I am forgetting your troubles, my dear friend. Tell me what you intend to do." "Remain here, and try to discover the hand which strikes me in the dark."' "You have no suspicion?" "Yes, some. But I may be--I trust I may be-de- ceived." "I fear you will find that you are right." "You too suppose----"Count Michieli looked up at his friend as if trying to read his thoughts, but he could not- bring himself to utter the word Jacopo. "I advise caution," said Moroni. "He whom you sus- pect is more powerful than you imagine. I am afraid I ISOLINA. 399 can be of little use to you; but I have some influence with one in authority, for whom I did a good turn some little time back, in a case which came before the judges. I will go to him-to-night-witIhout loss of time. Mean- time, remember that spies are abroad. Destroy all papers, -everything that mav compromise you. For the present, adieu." Signor Moroni had hardly left the count when other friends, in whom he had less confidence and who had heard of his arrival in Venice, called upon him, and were admitted before he could be denied. It was already late in the evening when he found himself alone, and at last able to go in search of whatever papers of dangerous import he possessed; but as he was leaving the room for this purpose, he met face to face the officers sent to conveyr him to the prison of state. No time was allowed him, except to give some orders to his servants, which had to be delivered in the presence of the police, and he was placed under such strict surveillance in his prison that he could not even send an intimation to his nephew of the embarrassing position in which he was placed. Three months elapsed -before- he was brought up for examina- tion ; and during that time he was debarred any commu- cation with the outer world. His jailer was the only human being with whom he could converse, and his health began to give way under anxious suspense as well as from confinement. One of the most painful thoughts which haunted him night and day was, that if he were now to die, his fortune, unless confiscated by the government, would go to his nephew, to whom he had bequeathed it. His desire to atone for his sins towards his son by leaving at least a part of it to his grand- daughter became a craving, which seemed to fever his brain almost to madness. But it was vain to think or to scheme. He might be 'condemned to imprisonment for life. He knew there was material enough among ,.his papers, if found, to afford greater cause for his condemna- tion than that which had filled Spielberg with its victims. Hfe might even be left to perish in the dungeon where he now lay, and there was none to convey a message of his end to his friends. page: 400-401[View Page 400-401]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 400-401 400 ISOLINA. At length the day arrived when Count Michieli was brought before the tribunals, accused of conspiring against the state. Some of the papers which were produced might have given color to this accusation; but the most damning had escaped the vigilance of the police. , He had not yet learned who had been the chief instigator of his arrest. He was the more anxious on the subject,- as he knew that the names of various private friends and young men belonging to wealthy and noble families in Venice, who were engaged in correspondence with the exiles, might be compromised if a certain paper should have been discovered which he had concealed in the very cabinet where he preserved the memorials of his son. The evening after the first day's examination, Count Michieli was visited-in his prison by the governor in per. son, who informed him that special orders from Vienna had obliged him'to act towards him with a suspicion which his private acquaintance with Count Michieli as- sured him- was unnecessary, and which was most painfil to his feelings. He further told him that the following day he would be brought up before him for a private ex- amination, during which -if Count Michieli would confess the part he had taken in instituting a widely-organized society for rebellion, the governor would himself secure his pardon. Should he, however, prove contumacious, his trial would proceed, and, without providing for the safety of his friends, as their names were already known to the police, he would probably be condemned to impris- onment for life, and his whole property would be confis- cated, though the bulk of it would be assigned to his nephew and next heir, in consideration of faithful ser- vices rendered by him to the government. Count Michieli could no longer have any doubt as to the author of his arrest, and, stung with pain and indig- nation at the ingratitude of one he bad so cherished, it was some minutes before he could speak. Long habits of self-command, and the presence of mind taught by a life passed under a government from which he was in -con- stant danger, enabled him even now to conceal his feel- ings and to reply calmly and consistently to the questions 1SOLINA. 401 asked. When brought up before the governor the next day, he succeeded in baffling all inquiries, and, though sent back to prison, nothing could be proved against him. He was, therefore, supposed to have been a tool made use of by others, rather than really acquainted with the extent and formidable character of the conspiracy, whose principal members were known to him. He was, how- ever, left another month in confinement, to ponder over his injuries and his plans of revenge. The evening after he had recovered his freedom and found himself once more in his own palace, he hastened to the room where the paper containing the names of his friends lay concealed. That room, which he held so sacred that none but himself had, to his knowledge, entered it for twenty years, now presented a scene of confusion and disorder which, as be gazed in silent agony, seemed to paralyze all his faculties. His household goods were scattered, the cherished memorials of his son destroyed. The chairs and tables had been moved for the convenience of the inquisitors of police; the old paper-case and ink- stand had been set aside and new ones brought in; the piano had been wantonly broken in the search for trea- sonable papers, and drawers had been ransacked and their contents emptied and carried away. Count Michieli walked with a tottering step up to the chimney-piece, removed the old clock with tremblinghhands, and, raising the tapestry behind, sought for the spring along the wall. Twice in his agitation he missed it, and feared it had been discovered and destroyed; but at last he touched the spot, and it opened as usual. There, beside the miniature of his son, lay the paper of which he was in search. Pas- sionate tears followed the discovery, as he repeatedly kissed the picture, which, as a talisman, appeared to have saved his honor and preserved the lives of his friends. It was with no small consternation that he soon after- wards heard of the arrest or escape from Venice of every individual whose name had been inscribed on the paper, and even personal friends were seized who had no con- nection with the society. The first victim was Stefano Moroni, who disappeared from all knowledge, even of the prison to which he had been conveyed, till, a few years 34* page: 402-403[View Page 402-403]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 402-403 402 ISOLINA. ater, the alarm occasioned by the political state of the countrv induced the government to release those whose popularity might make the act one of conciliation to the people. When Count Michieli, on leaving his prison, visited the coffee-houses he was accustomed to frequent, he was surprised to find himself shunned; and when he called on his best friends they were denied. The very people in the streets, with whom he was once popular, avoided him, and the scowls which he encountered made him afraid to trust himself out of his own house after dark. He had lost no time after his release in writing to Count Jacopo, describing what had befallen him, though without hinting at the part he supposed his nephew to have played in his arrest. His letter was frank and cordial, as usual; Count Jacopo's reply full of affectionate concern. He reproached his uncle with not having immediately sent for him, and concluded by ex- pressing an earnest hope that his property had been left unmolested. It was with a bitter smile of irony that Count Michieli read and re-read this letter. "My prop- erty!" he exclaimed. "He shall not see a florin of it. I shiall leave all to my son's child; but he shall first know from myself that I have altered myv will, that from this hour he is an outcast,-such an outcast as I made my Enrico, who never wronged me as he has. But my son has his revenge." During many subsequent weeks the count was occu- pied with the arrangement of his affairs. He was hardly ever seen beyond the walls of his palace; or, if he occa- sionally appeared in the piazza, he hurried along, glancing uneasily on either side,'as if still expecting to be dogged by the police. His cloak was thrown across his person, so as to conceal half his face, and his pale brow and long, disheveled gray hair, with the suspicious look in his eyes, caused some to say that he was mad. The confidential person at the head of his household was, however, frequently employed in making purchases, and the palace was gradually brought: into an order which had never been seen there since the death of the countess. An apartment, consisting of a suite of ten rooms, was supplied' with every luxury which riches and art could ISOLINA. .403 produce. Some of his servants supposed that the count was-preparing for the English wife the young count was bringing to Venice; others, that the old man meant to marry again himself. In answer to all these conjectures, his maestro di casa shook his head in a mysterious way, enough to arouse the curiosity of those least interested, whilst advising them not to think at all upon the matter. But not even did this sagacious person know that Count Michieli had placed all his money in foreign securities, and that he meant soon to quit Venice for at least a time. CHAPTER XLI. "I know not which way I must look For comfort; being, as I am, opprest To think that now our life is only drest Eor slow, mean handiwork of craftsmen work." THE London season was over, and Isolina was invited to pass the summer with the Duchess of Pedantmere, at Forestmere. The dowager duchess had lately died; the duke had many additional affairs on his hands, and the family in the castle, therefore, meant to spend their time in retirement. Lady Emmeline was the only visitor, with the exception of Isolina, who enjoyed the prospect of seeing so much of Alice and the children. The school- room, as well as the bedroom she had formerly occupied,. was assigned to her; and in this separate apartment Mrs. Camelli also was established for change of air and scene. Rebecca dragged her in a garden-chair about the grounds near that end of the castle, carefully avoiding intrusion on anv other part,-for Rebecca would sooner have encountered a real live lion than a real live duke;, and occasional visits from Alice, as well as Isolina's efforts at amusement, enlivened Mrs. Camelli's otherwise dull life. The first fortnight passed pleasantly away, but in the course of the next week Mrs. Herbert unexpectedly ! page: 404-405[View Page 404-405]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 404-405 404 rSOLINA. arrived and interrupted the harmony of the castle. She was jealous of Alice's intimacy with her friend. Is0lina was, therefore, obliged to live much alone, or was left to the company of Lady Emmeline. -This did not cause her much annoyance, as she spent her solitary hours writing to George, and at other times she was ready to fall in with Lady Emmeline's peculiar views and ways whilst endeavoring to soothe her feelings under the afflic- tion she had lately'sustained. But Lady Emmeline's was a sullen and morose grief rather than a sorrow which sought sympathy. She thought it necessary to look as well as feel miserable, though during the duchess's life- time the mother and daughter had so seldom agreed that she was no loss to her as a companion. Grief is pain, and pain made Emmeline cross. She rarely spoke, never smiled, wore crape nearly up to her waist, and a bonnet of most unbecoming gloom; and she wrote her notes on paper covered two-thirds with a black border. Dinner had become a silent, uncomfortable meal, during which the servants in black liveries moved about on tiptoe. Isolina's pleasantest hours were spent with the chil- dren, whom she read with, played with, and sang to sleep with her sweetest song; even the boy, who began to walk, would cling round her knee, and the never-failing story gained for her many a hug from loving little arms. One evening Isolina entered the drawing-room after she had seen the children sound asleep in their beds, and found Alice and Lady Emmeline seated in a window conversing in an undertone, whilst Mrs. Herbert, reposing r0 in an arm-chair, was actually longifg for her return, to have some one with whom to talk. The- servants Iwith the tray were just leaving the room. "Miss Camelli," she began, "neither the duchess, Lady Emmeline, nor I take coffee; I suppose you don't wish for any?" - "No, thank you; I hardly ever touch it," answered Isolina, producing her embroidery, and drawing a chair near the table. "Where have you been all this time?" "With my mother, and afterwards with the children." "Oh, by the bye, how is Mrs. Camelli?" I 1SOLINA. 405 "She is well for her, thank you: she goes to bed very early." "Alice," called Mrs. Herbert to her daughter, "I don't think Margaret is looking well. I never think that Forestmere agrees with her." "Don't you, mamma?" said Alice, without leaving her place at the window. "I shall send her down to Brighton by-and-by for a change."? "Were you ever at Brighton, Miss Camelli?" asked Mrs. Herbert. "Never." "I think it might do you good to go there with the children." "I am perfectly well, thank you," said Isolina.. "After all your exertions in the spring, I think, a strengthening' air might be of great benefit to you. I wonder, too, you never think of trying it for your mother." "I am afraid her case is hopeless."' "There is no saying. Which room is she sleeping in here?" "In the east room." "The coldest room in the house. Alice, how came Dawson to put Mrs. Camelli in the east room? I was on that side of the house when last here, when my room was occupied, and I thought I should have caught my death by it. Alice, do you hear me?" "Yes, ma'am. I am very sorry, but you shall not be put there again." "I am speaking of Mrs. Camelli, Alice. I think it quite wlong to put an invalid on that side of the house." "But it is not winter, mamma, and I assure you that room, at this season, is the healthiest in the castle. Sir John Walter told me-- " "Stuff and nonsense, Alice I Don't tell me of Sir John Walter: I know better than he can what that room must be at any season. Crawford assured me that an eastern aspect was death to an old person; and Crawford has more sense in his little finger than Sir John in --" "Miss Camelli!" called Lady Emmeline, in a soft, melancholy voice, from the window where she sat half concealed by the curtain. page: 406-407[View Page 406-407]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 406-407 406 ISOLINA. Isolina rose and joined her, taking the place Alice had left to go to her mother. The faint twilight was grad- ually dying away, and the rays of a large full moon, falling on her fine features, gave her almost the appear- ance of marble. ("Sit down," said Lady Emmeline. "I want to talk a little with you. Do not stand there like a statue: it makes me shiver to look at you. I have been asking the, duchess about your plans in life, for you must be aware how great an interest I have always taken in you." Isolina bowed slightly, but did not look so grateful as Lady Emmeline expected. ," I fear you have no hope of your mother's ultimate recovery. I can feel for you, I who know what is im- pending over you." It was unusually condescending in Lady Emmeline to place Isolina for a moment on her level; but death, like religion, obliges even Lady Emme- lines to bend to fraternity and equality, when there is no help for it. "My only comfort," she continued, " is that before my mother left this earth she had been converted to the truth, and that she is now, as Mr. Sherbrooke assures me, an angel in heaven." It is not possible to say how Mr. Sherbrooke obtained this certainty, nor how this vain, worldly-minded old duchess had in a few short hours become a religious woman. She had quitted the earthly treasures she prized, and her handful of dust lay now enshrined in a splendid tomb emblazoned with the ducal arms, and re- cording, in a lengthy if not very truthful inscription, her humility and other Christian virtues. But the relief her death had occasioned her daughter, if mingled with a little self-reproach, had reconciled Lady Emmeline to the being to whom she owed her birth, and to whom she had shown very little dutiful affection in life. She, therefore, sincerely believed she was mourning the absence of one she loved. "She was a bright example to us all, and to all who ever knew her," sighed Lady Emmeline; and she wiped away what May have been a tear. "None but a daughter mourning such a mother can feel as I do for one on the eve of suffering a similar loss. You too are probably ISOLINA. 40t destined for a life of solitude, like me; and, interested as I am in you, I cannot but grieve that you should have chosen a profession which must foster vain and worldly thoughts and lead you away from the only true consola- tion. I know well that it is necessary for a young woman, situated as you'are, to earn your livelihood; and, as nature has endowed you with a fine voice and musical talents, the temptation for their display must be very great; but if, instead of operas, you were to confine yourself to oratorios or sacred music, I could not too highly approve of the motives which induce you to make use of your powers." "I think, Lady Emmeline, that I am the best judge in these matters; and I cannot have wiser counselors than Sir Roger and Lady Campbell." "Certainly not: they are your, benefactors, and, if par- tial, most judicious friends. But they are not exempt from error; they may make their mistakes like other people; and, however gratitude may induce you to treat their opinion with' the respect which is their due, do not, I entreat you, under the mask of supposed virtue, give way to pride, and reject other advice which is kindly meant.' Nothing but interest in your welfare could make me take this trouble; and though, of course, Lady Campbell is a very superior woman, I fear you have lost another adviser of far greater experience in the world in Lady Elton; and, from what I have heard, I fear you have lost her from some indiscretion on your part." Isolina half rose, as if to put a stop to this admonition, but Lady Emmeline, placing her hand on hers, forced her to resume her seat. "You are surely aware," she con- tinued, without allowing her time to speak, "that Lady Elton has not been silent among her intimate friends, and that since Mr. Mowbray's engagement to Miss Tierney (a marriage by no means satisfactory to the family) it is said that he offered to her when piqued by his parents' opposition to his union with a certain young person who had invited his attentions, and would have accepted him had not Lord and Lady Elton interposed to prevent such a ie-s-alliance for their son." The spiteful tone in which this was spoken roused contempt rather than anger in page: 408-409[View Page 408-409]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 408-409 408 ISOLINA. Isolina, who did not attempt to interrupt her, but, as she concluded, quietly remarked,- "I wonder, Lady Emmeline, you can believe such reports." "What do you mean, Miss Camelli?" said Lady Emrmeline, growing red. "I should not, of course, have repeated this to you, had it been only a report; but I heard it from the best authority, from Lady Elton herself, and I think it may be useful to you to know the light in which your aspirations to a marriage with one above yourself in station are regarded by your real friends." Isolina now rose from her chair, and before Lady Emmeline could stop her she had returned to her embroidery by the lamp. "Can't you sing, Miss Camelli?" asked Mrs. Herbert. "We cannot have any music to-night, mamma,' said Alice, glancing at Lady Emmeline. "Oh, do not let me prevent your enjoyment. I am going to my room for a little while." And Lady Emme- line, quitting her solitary seat in the window, with a deep sigh left the drawing-room. "Then, will you sing, dear?" asked Alice. Isolina hesitated, for sihe felt she could hardly command her voice from the agitation caused by the rude and unfeeling words of Lady Emmeline. "Don't ask her, Alice," said Mrs. Herbert to her daughter, in a half whisper, which was perfectly audible to Isolina. "I know those great singers always reserve their voices for the public." Then, continuing aloud, "I beg your pardon, Miss Camelli; I cannot expect that you will favor so small an audience." ' "You quite mistake Isolina, mamma," said Alice, angrily. "I know no one more good-natured than she is; but I won't have her sing now: she shall accompany me instead." And, opening the piano, the duchess se- lected a favorite song of her mother's, and, whilst Iso- lina played, she sang away Mrs. Herbert's ill humor. Every Thursday in the week the Duke of Pedantmere gave permission to visitors to view the castle and park, and on those days the family confined themselves to their private apartments. One fine Thursday morning, ISOLINA. 409 so early that it seemed impossible for any visitors to arrive, Alice and Isolina were tempted to take the chil- dren a long walk in the more distant part of the grounds, where a carpet of heath succeeded the grassy verdure near the house. The sweet smell from the fir-trees, and the pleasant sound of birds welcoming the. morning \ light, mingled with the merry laughter of the little girls running races, were alike refreshing to the health and spirits of the friends, who conversed pleasantly as they walked. Isolina confided to Alice the whole his. tory of her engagement to George Mowbray, and, as they seated themselves on a bank, she read to her part of a letter she had lately received from him, and in which he continued to urge upon her retirement from public singing. Besides considerations of family pride, Captain Mow- bray had strict ideas of propriety and outward decorum in women: like many men whose own character is want- ing in strength, he esteemed the weaker vessel to contain a proportionably weaker soul, and, measuring her powers by his own, whilst expecting greater virtue from woman than man, he believed Isolina's only safety lay in a life of privacy and reserve. "I think he is right, Alice,' said Isolina, as she finished; for she was inclined to believe George must be right, at any rate, in principle, although too great generosity towards her might have led him to urge that which she felt it her duty to refuse. What woman, who respects 'herself in the being to whom she has given her heart; does not believe in his superiority?"YesyI think he is right, and I am more convinced of this by practical experience of the career which circumstances alone have led me to adopt. There is nothing wrong in singing before a large mixed audience; and the actress may even be as pure, as good, as noble a being as another woman, --perhaps more so, since she is less fenced in and guarded; but the habit of giving expression to the most sacred feelings before the public, of asking for the ap- plause of a number of men and women, and fearing their censure, brings with it a sense of humiliation which I have not yet been able to overcome; and, if I should s 35 page: 410-411[View Page 410-411]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 410-411 "O - ISOLINA. ever overcome it, I shall have lost something in my nature,/ an' instinct which is, I think, given us for our protection." . "Cannot you, then, please Captain Mowbray and satisfy your own feelings by retiring at once?" "That is more easily said than done, Alice. I cannot leave my mother; and even to give lessons in music, as I tried for a short time, I was obliged to be longer absent from her than was right. If I could draw well enough, or had any other accomplishment as perfect as music, I might have devised some less conspicuous way of making my livelihood-." "But you like it, nevertheless?'" "Like it! I love my art; I love it so dearly, so pas- sionately, and at the moment I so enjoy carrying along my audience with myself in- the stream of poetic delight which I experience, that, if it were not for George, I am not sure that, with all its drawhacks, my philosophy would enable me to abandon my profession,-not even the so- ciety it sometimes brings with it, which is frequently anything but agreeable." 1 "I wish Captain Mowbray would marry you without delay." "He is not to blame for that.1" "I cannot help thinking that both you and Lady Campbell carry your scruples toodfar."' "So do I'at times, dear Alice," said Isolina, smiling; "but only at times when George's letters or my own affection prevail over my better reason. We must follow what we believe to be right, whatever may come of it." The friends rose to continue their walk, but, looking at their watches, they found it later than they expected; they therefore hastened homewards by a little path which led to the castle through a meadow brilliant with butter- cups and daisies. They had passed the centre of- the field, and the children were running to and fro in all directions, gathering large handfuls of the tempting flowers, when the low bellowing of a bull startled them. Looking round, they saw a formidable animal on the other side of the hedge, advancing step by! step towards the stile, near which the only barrier between Of i ISOLINA. 4" him and the ladies was broken down. Their hope for escape, therefore, was to pass this break before the bull could reach it. Alice called to her children, and, taking one in her arms, whilst Isolina held the hand of the other, they walked on as rapidly as their trembling knees enabled them. The bull, meantime, followed slowly, till on approaching the opening, he made a Sudden rush for- ward, and stood between them and the stile. To-fly would, they knew, only increase their danger, and they were considering what to do, when a gentleman, who happened to be walking along the path beyond, perceived the state of matters, and made a diversion by dealing a violent blow at the bull with a stick he held in his hand. The animal turned to face his assailant, and, seeing he was bevond reach, retreated into the field whence he had ,merged, whilst, taking advantage of the moment, the adies and children effected their escape. No sooner were they in safety than Alice and Isolina vere oblied to sit. down to recover their stlrength, and oth the little girls burst into tears. The gentleman who ad been their deliverer advanced to ininire if either tad een hurt, and to offer his services. Hisvoice and foreign spect made both ladies look up, and they at the same omient recognized and welcomed Count Jacopo. Alice sisted on0 his returning with them to the castle, which Lvitation, after some hesitation, he accepted. The ac- dent of his appearance was soon explained. He was aveling in England, and had stopped at the neighboring wn. to visit Forestmere, which was the great sight in at part of the country; he was aware that the family sre living in retirement, o0wing to, the recent death of e dowager duchess, and therefore had not intended to trude upon them; but, this being a public day, he only :ant to view the house and grounds. On his arrival at castle, he met with the most gracious reception fron e duke, and was overwhelmed with thanks by Mrs : 'rbert for the preservation of her daughter and grand- ildren. His title stood him in good stead with her, and was delighted at the accession of any visitor who ld break the weary monotony of their present life. rbhat afternoon was, at any rate, the most cheerful that page: 412-413[View Page 412-413]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 412-413 "2 ISOLINA. had been spent by any of the party for some time past. In the course of conversation the duke discovered that Count Priuli was acquainted with the means of decipher- ing ancient manuscripts, and he informed him that there was a collection in the castle well worthy his attention. The period of mourning for the dowager, and the retire- mnent with which the duke had thought right to mark the exit from the world of a woman of his mother's rank, had, it must be confessed, hung a little heavy upon his hands, and this accident of the arrival of a foreigner, with the excuse of his having preserved the duchess when in imminent danger of her life, almost obliging the family to show him hospitality, was gladly welcomed. Count Jacopo wag invited to prolong his visit for a few days, for a week, a fortnight; and the invitation was readily accepted. Even Lady Emmeline looked a little pleasanter, after the first meeting with a stranger was over. She was glad to turn awhile from her sorrow and rub up her Italian; and she ventured even to smile whilst discussing with him passages'from the Inferno of Dante. She took upon herself to thank Count Jacopo for his kind notice of Isolina, as if he had thereby conferred a favor on her- self by attentions to a young person in whom she was interested; and his lively conversation, his anecdotes, and information on every subject, were a perfect godsend in the dreary mansion. To sum up his charms, he talked on learned subjects with the duke, gave Mrs. Herbert all the history of the living peerage of Great Britain, quoted Italian to Lady Emmeline, amused Alice, played with the children, and not only listened with unfeigned de- light to Isolina's music, but contrived to make himself so agreeable to her that even she began to like her cousin in good earnest. ISOLINA. 413 CHAPTER XLII. "If I have ranged, Like him that travels, I return again Just to the time, not with the time exchanged." SHAKSPEARE. ISOLINA had, however, one trouble, and a very serious one too. The day of the adventure with the bull she had lost George's letter. She had returned to search for it; and, now that the enemy was placed in safe custody, she. ventured to retrace every step of the walk, but all in vain. She hastened back to tell Alice of her loss, and another search was made, but equally without success. She could hardly sleep that night, and her vexation did not wear off for several days. -Nothing more could, how- ever, be done, and she only trusted that the letter had been destroyed as well as lost. The precious document was, however, in Lady Emme- line's safekeeping. tIt had been picked up by one of the laborers about the place who could not read, and, meet- ing with Mrs. Villiers, he consigned it to her. That worthy satellite of Lady Emmeline no sooner saw the address and the signature than she thought proper to bring it to her patroness; and Lady Emmeline thought herself equally bound in the interest of her friends the Eltons to read it. What was her righteous indignation to discover, first, that Miss Camelli actually was guilty of so great an impropriety as to correspond with a gen- tleman, and that gentleman Captain Mowbray; secondly, that the letter began with "My beloved Isolina ;" and thirdly, that after some account of his life in Canada and a little kind and (as Lady Emmeline thought) judicious advice to the young artiste, the conclusion was full of the warmest expressions of attachment, the language of an accepted lover l After the last word had been read, the letter fell from Lady Emmeline's hands. She was overwhelmed with page: 414-415[View Page 414-415]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 414-415 "4 ISOLINA. amazement. and horror. She recollected, however, to pick it up again and lock it in her desk before she sat down to consider what was next to be done. To send the letter to Lady Elton, and thus confess that she had read her son's correspondence, might seriously com- promise herself, and was not to be thought of for a moment, especially as a lingering hope yet remained (so tenacious is love in some breasts) that she might one day yet recover Captain Mowbray's affections. To' speak to Isolina would be worse than useless; and as for Alice, she would never forgive any interference with the inter- ests of one she so blindly loved. The duke, too, would resent a breach of honor. There was nothing for it but to watch Isolina and to wait her opportunity. If she could only lead Captain Mowbray to see his folly, his delusion, before it .was too late! Lady Emmeline descended to the drawing-room in no very amiable mood with Isolina, whom she found engaged in what she chose to consider-a flirtation with Count Jacopo. Alice was unconsciously furthering the schenmes of her sister-in-law, when, half amused, half pleased,i at Count Jacopo's undisguised admiration of Isolina, she drew out a11 her accomplishments, all the charms of her conversation. The count had long hesitated between the lively attractions of Beatrice Hervev, who he felt secure would accept him at once were he to offer to her, and the advantages which a marriage with his cousin might pre- sent. He had only just heard of his uncle's release from prison, and he felt too well assured that Count Michieli suspected his connivance in the affair, and would probably transfer his wealth to Isolina, not to think it advisable to secure the affections of his fair cousin; and, although he intended to keep his own heart free, to dispose of as cir- cumstances should direct, every hour he spent at the castle weakened this resolution, until he who had never truly loved before was drawn within the circle of her uncon- scious fascinations. One evening Isolina had just left the drawing-room, and Count Jacopo happened to find himself alone with Lady Emmeline, who was reading at another table.' She was soon, however, aware that his mind was not where ISOLINA. 416 his eyes rested, and she resolved to seize the opportunity she bad so long desired. "Is that Ivanhoe, Count Jacopo, which Miss Camelli has just been reading? I have often thought that in character, as well as person, she herself resembles the description of Rebecca." "The same has occurred to me; only there is nothing of the Jewess in Miss Camelli's classical line of features." "She is a very interesting girl, but very unfortunate." ("How so?" I mean in her father having been an actor, and in the doubtful position she holds in society, which prevents her marrying." "Indeed!" "It was a great mistake, however benevolent, of Lady Campbell, to attempt to raise her out of her sphere in life, separating her from her natural relations. Her mother has always been a burden upon her, and is now quite paralytic. If Miss Canmelli had been brought up as a shop-girl at Woodford, or school-mistress, it would have been much better for her, and her mother's relations would have assisted her." "A shop-girl I Miss Camelli a shop-girl I1" said Count Jacopo, with a half-suppressed laugh. "Nature appears to me to have formed her to grace society and to charm all who have the good fortune to be in her company." "She certainly has that power, and knows it, too," said Lady Emmeline, spitefully. "She is the most in- veterate little flirt I 'ever met with; that is her only real fault, for she is not answerable for her birth, her con- nections, her want of fortune, or the injudicious educa- tion she has received." "She usually resides with Lady Campbell?" "Oh, dear, no I only in her neighborhood. For many years she had her home in a cottage which Lord Elton, Lady Campbell's brother, gave her mother. They were nearly supported by the family, till Miss Camelli endeav- ored to win the heart of the eldest son; and when she did not succeed, as of course she and her mother could not continue there afterwards, she came out as a singer. But, having failed to entrap one brother, she is now set page: 416-417[View Page 416-417]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 416-417 "6 ISOLINA. on securing the other. Captain Mowbray is in Canada, but I have reason to believe Isolina is secretly engaged to him." "Engaged!", exclaimed Count Jacopo, thrown off his guard for one moment, but as instantly recovering his self-possession. "I do not think that possible; but, if it were, any one might envy Captain Mowbray such a treasure." "If aMiss Camelli were to retire into private life," Lady Emmelineb continued, -" the present objections on the part of Lord and Lady Elton might perhaps be removed." "Miss Camelli does not appear to pine after her absent lover." "Not since you have seen her. She was very dull and in low spirits until your arrival; but you have enlivened the whole house." "You flatter me." "Not the least: you seem to exercise a sort of en- chantment on Miss Camelli. I never, indeed, saw her so animated. " "When does Captain Mowbray return?" "Not for a year, at least." "And he expects that one so admired, so beautiful, should maintain her constancy to him, uncertain even if be may ever be enabled to marry her? It would be be- yond woman's nature. . Others may indeed, then, have hopes." "Of that, Count Jacopo, you are a better judge than I am. I believe that men understand women better than we understand one another. Miss Camelli, at any rate, is past my comprehension." "Will you take compassion on me now, and give me a lesson in what you do understand, Lady Emmeline?" said Count Jacopo. "Here is the chessboard. I fear, however, that I shall not be able to compete with female tactics, and certainly in this game the king plays a sorry figure in comparison with the queen. I am a bold man- and may I be allowed to say a brave one?-tobe so ready again to challenge my conqueror." Meanwhile Isolina's constancy was more severely tried than even Count Jacopo supposed. George's letters had, ISOLINA. 417 lately become shorter and less frequent, and were filled with excuses for not writing. She accepted the ex- cuses, and reproached herself if a doubt or an uneasy thought crossed her mind. At the same time, it was im- possible for her not to be pleased with her cousin, who was exercising all his powers to charm her; but, in try- ing to win Isolina's heart, he- had, perhaps for the first time in his life, fallen in love in good earnest. His visit to the castle, where he was made sincerely welcome, was prolonged another week, and he seized every opportunity to forward "his suit. Alice was, amused at a devotion to Isolina which she never believed to mean anything seri- ous, whilst Lady Emmeline did her best to assist Count Jacopo's views. Isolina always wore a little onyx ring, which had been given her by Captain Mowbray, and which contained his hair at the back, and she valued it more than anything else she possessed. One evening the conversation happened to turn on ancient gems. Mrs. Herbert produced a cameo bracelet, which 1gained as much-admiration as the possessor could desire. She next drew from her finger a delicately-carved ruby ring, and, looking around, she chal- lenged any one to produce a work of equal merit. Count Jacop o immediately asked Isolina to be allowed to look at her ring, adding that he had observed an impression from it on a note she was once sealing, and believed it to be quite equal to Mrs. Herbert's ruby. Isolina was taken by surprise, as she had no idea that her ring had attracted observation, and did not know how to refuse. She ac-- cordingly drew it from her finger, and gave it to lim. He examined it carefully, and noticed, without appearing to do so, the hair at the back. As he returned it, he said, in a voice only audible to the possessor,-- "It should be diamonds for so fair a hand." An hour afterwards, when alone with Lady Emmeline, he observed, "That little ring is the talisman to-Miss CameHi's heart." "Cupid bound and blindfold, and on the other side a' lock of hair," said Lady Ernneline, quietly. "You saw it, then?" asked the count. -"Yes; and if Miss Canmelli could be persuaded to part s* page: 418-419[View Page 418-419]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 418-419 "8 ISOLINA. with this talisman, as you call it, she would soon cease to cherish idle hopes." "Do you think," said Count Jacopo, after a pause, "she would lend it to me? I want to compare it with one which I have in London." "You can try." "Could you not persuade her, Lady Emmeline?" "You have more influence than I have, count." Count Jacopo smiled, as if not unconscious of his power, and determined to use it. "I warn you, however," continued Lady Emnmeline, "you have a formidable rival." "You told me,-Captain Mowbray. That hair is his." "Undoubtedly, and this letter too," said Lady Em- meline. "Addressed to Miss Camelli? And she has allowed you to-read it? I should have hardly thought a young lady would show her lover's letters." "Of course I &o not mean you to read it; but as Miss Camelli proposes to add you to the list of her lovers, I will let you look at a few passage4 to convince you that Captain Mowbray considers her as pledged to him"." Saying this, Lady Emmeline, who had discovered the count was one to be stimulated, not daunted, by obsta- cles, produced George's letter to Isolina, and was going to point out certain sentences to Count Jacopo, when he, assuming an impetuosity which was not natural to him, snatched it from her, and, glancing at a few words, in- sisted on retaining it. Lady Emmeline, alarmed at her own indiscretion, after some altercation with Count Ja- N copo, gave a promise that if he could not persuade Iso- lina to give him the ring, she would contrive to procure it for him as the price of the restoration of the letter. Meantime he gave her his word as a gentleman that it should be seen by no one, but be preserved faithfully for her. Lady Emmeline felt uneasy, but was obliged to consent. The duke and duchess had some business of impor- tance that evening to transact with the lawyer of the de- ceased dowager, who had come down from London for * 1 - ISOL NA. 419 this purpose. Mrs. ierbert was dozing in an arm-chair by the fire, and Lady Emmeline purposely kept out of the way, when Count Jacopo stole into the drawing-room after dinner in his usual catlike manner, and seated him- self beside Isolina, who was reading at a table in a re- mote corner of the room, near the bookcase. "What is your study, my fair cousin?"/he asked, in a whisper, which made her start, for she was absorbed in the volume before her. "The Bride of Abydos," she answered, coloring from the surprise at finding him so near, "Is Byron, then, your favorite poet?" "Perhaps I ought to say no," replied Isolina; "but I must honestly say yes. I enjoy no poetry perhaps so much." "Which are your favorite passages? I should like to read them, to know them, to repeat them, when I can no longer listen to the melody of your voice." "Oh, Count Jacopo, your own taste will guide you to better passages than I can point out. But you are not going away, are you?" "Alas, I must leave to-morrow 1" said Count Jacopo. "Would that I were permitted to take with me some memorial of the happy days I have spent in your com- pany 1"There was a pause. "Isolina,-I may be per- mitted, as your cousin, to call you so? it is a permission I would greatly prize,-if you would grant me one little favor, unworthy as I am, you would make me happy. Allow me an impression from the ring upon your finger? It is valuable to me for its own worth,-ten times more valuable as a remembrance of you." Isolina hesitated, then drew the ring from her finger, and put it into Count Jacopo's hand, as she rose to take the sealing-wax from anothe le; but he retained her hand in his, as if to keep check. "Nay," he added, "it would be easier for ne 'ke the impression in London, if you could lend me the ring for one day, only for one day, and I will return it safely; I wish to compare it with one some- what similar in my possession." "I cannot," said Isolina. "Indeed, I cannot lend you this ring. It is the gjft of a friend " page: 420-421[View Page 420-421]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 420-421 420 ISOLINVA. "Whose hair is at the back?"Isolin-a reddened with anger. "My beautiful cousin, you blush. You are young; you do not know the world. I entreat you to be cautious; there are those who may steal your heart, but who may never aspire to your hand. Forgive me; the deep interest I take in you, your unprotected situation, and I being your nearest male relation, have made me long to speak, even at the risk of offending you." "Count Jacopo---" began Isolina. "I see my zeal has hurried me too far. There, take your ring; I would not have so ventured but for the sentiment you have awakened in my heart. I will keep your secret 1"He still held her hand, which she tried to withdraw, and, placing the ring upon her finger, he kissed it before he let her go. "This is too much, count," said Isolina. "I am not so unprotected as you imagine." "None have the claim to protect you I have, except-- your grandfather." Isolina did not reply; but, crossing the room, she seated herself beside Mrs. Herbert, who, opening her eyes with a vacant stare, exclaimed, "My very dear countess!" in a voice which made Isolina start. Then, raising herself, she continued, in a louder tone, "I was not asleep. Oh, no I I heard it all I Dear me I where is Lady Emmeline? Count Jacopo, would you just ring the bell? We must have coffee; it is later than I imagined." The next morning Count Jacopo left the castle. All lamented his absence, and nothing was talked of for a, week but the charms of his conversation, his manners, and his good humor. Each seemed to vie with the other in his praises. Isolina alone was silent. What could she say? She was vexed with him for the last tte-d-tete's conversation. What right had he to pry into her secrets? And yet she would not injure him by repeating what had passed, even to Alice. He was her cousin; he meant well; and he had been very kind, very friendly, to her. She liked him; yes, in spite of all, she liked him, and, at any rate, she could not help thinking about him more- frequently than she herself could reconcile with her duty to George. ISOLINA. 421 Four days after Count Jacopo had taken his departure; one morning Isolina missed her ring from her dressing- table. She supposed, at first; that she had dropped it, and she searched the whole room, but in vain. She did not like to excite suspicion against any of the servants; but she felt the more unhappy at the loss so soon follow- ing that of George's letter. She reproached herself with carelessness, and began to doubt the accuracy of her own memory where she had laid it. What should she do about George? She had not yet ha;d courage to con- fess to him the loss of his letter, for she knew it would vex him; she argued, indeed, if his love was true as hers, he could not for a moment doubt her affection ; and if he trusted her as he had every reason to trust her, why should she hesitate to tell him each event, each action, each thought, in her daily life? She sat down to write to him that very morning, when a letter from George was brought to her. i She tore it open joyfully, prepared to devour its contents, when, to her dismay, it was short, cold, and, though there were no vehement reproaches, he alluded, with some bitterness, to his conviction of a change which had taken place in her feelings towards him. The terms in which she had written of Count Jacopo Priuli were anything but pleasing to him. She had described him in too unmeasured praise for a woman whose affec- tions were engaged to another. Captain Mowbray added that, though a cousin, his attentions to her appeared to have passed the boundaries of mere friendship, and that, if Isolina could not forego the homage which she invited by her public position, or had altered her mind towards him, he would be no impediment to her happiness. A few words of passionate grief at her supposed incon- stancy, which followed, were almost a balm after the chilling indifference at the beginning of this letter. Iso- lina's heart was ready to burst with indignation as well as sorrow; but how could she reply? She had always been afraid of George, and, when a mere school-boy, she had felt more awe of him than of his gentle, full-grown brother. That fear had never wholly left her, though she knew his happiness was in her hands. To confess that she had lost his letter and his ring seemed now im- 36 page: 422-423[View Page 422-423]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 422-423 422 ISOLINA. possible. When she saw him she would tell him all; but to meet such a letter as this last by an answer which would but add fuel to the fire, she dared not. She de- stroyed what she had already written, and began another letter, full of sincere protestations, and reproaches for his unkindness. \ She almost hated Count Priuli for having amused and pleased her, and for thus having caused George a moment's uneasiness. The sorrow she felt at having herself been the occasion of this uneasiness, her sorrow at having caused her lover pain, made her love him the more, and she dreaded anything which could intervene between her and Captain Mowbray. A few days afterwards a change in her mother's health absorbed every other thought; Mrs. Camelli became alarmingly worse, and was desirous to retulln home, to see her London physician. Lady Campbell was expect- ing a visit from both mother and daughter, in Scotland, when she received a letter from Isolina, dated from Lon- don, full of apprehension for Mrs. 'Camelli's life. CHAPTER XLIII. "Day deep hidden from our sight In impenetrable night, Who may guess of thee aright? Art thou distant, art thou near? Wilt thou seem more dark or clear? Day with more of hope or fear? Wilt thou come, not seen before Thou art standing at the door, Saying, Light and life are o'er?" TRENCH. "ADY CAMPBELL was anxious to hasten to Isolina, but she had other duties which detained her at home, and her anxiety was greatly relieved by a letter assuring her Mrs. Camelli's threatened attack had passed off, and that her daughter had g od hopes she might shortly be re- stored to the state bhe was in before. It was the dead season of London in the early autumn: everybody ap- ISOLINA. 423 peared to have left town, and Isolina devoted her whole attention to her mother. For some-weeks she and Re- becca took turns in watching her by night, and the con- sequence of this was a severe cold, which Isolina treated too lightly and neglected in the beginning. Sti bad never wholly recovered from the effects of her fever at Leghorn, which had left a delicacy of the chest demanding great care. This she had hitherto given as a matter of duty, and had so far shaken off her weakness that, with a moderate attention to her health, she was able to follow up her profession. Too confident, however, in her youth and strength, she overtaxed both whilst absorbed in anxiety for her mother, and the physician, whom she at length consulted, gave her little hope of entire restora- tion. She became seriously alarmed lest her power of song should forsake her, and the care she took of herself for a fortnight was rewarded by such a complete cessa- tion of cough that the physician believed that he had taJken an exaggerated view of her case. She accordingly resumed her daily practicing, though cautiously at first, and she thought it helped to strengthen her chest. In spite of occasional warnings from her medical adviser, she was resolved to pursue her calling, whilst she kept all carefully concealed from her mother and Lady Camp- bell. There was one person who was really alarmed at the del- icacy of her appearance, and that was Count Jacopo. He, too, happened to be in town, and his frequent visits, and the kind attentions he showed her mother as w'ell as herself, were gratefully received by his cousin. She was alone, anxious and unhappy. A longer interval than usual had intervened between George's letters, and, after reflection, made her resent the insinuations contained in his last. She reproached herself with injustice for the dislike she had once felt for Count Jacopo because he might be an object of jealousy to Captain Mowbray; arid she confessed that in this time of trouble he was her greatest comfort, when no other was at hand to give her courage. His visits from every other day became every day, and were looked forward to by Mrs. -Camelli as well as by her daughter. Their frequency could be no objec- page: 424-425[View Page 424-425]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 424-425 424 - ISOLINA. tion from a relation; and, at any rate, they could not shut their door against so kind a- friend. He never left the house without Mrs. Camelli dilating on his charms; and they both felt the more grateful for the hours he devoted to them, since he had many other engagements, and some mysterious occupation which took him daily to the Aus. trian embassy. 'In spite of Count Jacopo's attractions, Isolina's heart remained faithful to George. The more she saw of her cousin, the stronger was her conviction that she could never entertain a warmer feeling for him than friendship; but, though he appeared more occupied with her mother than herself, she was afraid lest his visits might give rise to other suppositions, and she did not even mention in her letters to Lady Campbell how often Count Jacopo had called. A week before Christmas, Isolina was requested to sing at. a- concert given for a charity. She was more than usually desirous to be in good voice on this occasion, and she practiced assiduously, though with care. The evening arrived; she seemed indeed hardly equal to the exertion, to judge by the bright flush on her cheek, which made the ivory whiteness of her complexion more bril- liant. Her resolution did not flag, and she dressed a full hour before it was necessary, sitting beside her mother and endeavoring to amuse her. A well-known knock at the door ushered in Count Jacopo. As he entered, he could not but be struck by the contrast of the mother and daughter. Mrs. Camelli's delicate features were sharp and prominent from her extreme thinness, and, her sallow skin drawn and puckered, she seemed reduced to an un- naturally small size as she lay helpless on the sofa. Her eyes rested upon her daughter with undisguised admira- tion; she had good cause, for Isolina was even more than usually brilliant in her diamonds and flowers,-her eyes beaming with laughter as she related a lively story for Mrs. Camelli's amusement. "Count Jacopo," she exclaimed, " this is verygood of you. I am reminding mamma of some pleasant days long ago, and in another half-hour she must go to bed, and I to my concert."' "I shall have the pleasure of seeing and hearing you ISOLINA. 425 there; and to-morrow, Mrs. Camelli, I propose to give my- self the pleasure of telling you of your daughter's triumph." "You are always very good, Count Jacopo," said Mrs. Camelli. "You know there is nothing which can give me so much -pleasure. Though I ought not to say so before her, I must -say Isolina is looking unusually well, to-night. Do you not think so, count?" it That is rather hard," said Isolina, smiling. "Count Jacopo can only say yes, and I must make him my best curtsy, whatever he may think." "You need not be afraid," said Count Jacopo; "I always tell the truth, and do not pay compliments, espe- cially where theyare not required to disguise the truth. Yes, your dress is very becoming; but I have seen you look better, though," he whispered, with a sigh, whilst looking tenderly into her face,-" though never more beau- tiful." His look was so sincerely anxious, so kind, that Isolina felt she could not parry his compliment with a jest, and she was vexed at herself as the blush rose to her cheeks and spread -over her face and neck. ' Isolina should take more care of herself for the sake of all who love her," proceeded Count Jacopo, addressing Mrs. Camelli. - "Indeed she should; but I think she is lookin very well. See what a nice color she, has I I am sure I do not know what I could do without her; and I am so much better now, that, I think I shall trouble her a long time yet." ' Oh, mamma I do not talk so 1" ' "I often think, count, what will become of her when I go. If Lady Campbell had not married, or did not live in Scotland, I should have an easier mind; or if I could have seen her settled in life." "Very natural, my dear madam." "Iti is past seven, mamma," said Isolina, hoping to make a diversion in the turn the conversation threatened to take. "I must tell Rebecca to bring your tea. Might I trouble you to ring, Count Jacopo?" Count Jacopo obeyed; but Mrs. Camelli's ideas were not so easily changed. "Thanl you, my love," she con- tinued ; " but you see, count,-I may speak frankly to you, 36* page: 426-427[View Page 426-427]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 426-427 426 ISOLINA. as to a relation,--Isolina has refused some very good offers, and I fear her profession may be against her, marrying one worthy of her." "' Mamma, I must beg--- "We will defer this conversation to another time, Mrs. Camelli," said Count Jacopo. "You may rest assured 'of'the interest I shall always take in my cousin, and if she ever allows me to be the friend and protector she needs, she will only confer a favor upon me." He rose to take his leave, and, as he bade Isolina farewell, with a promise to meet her at the concert, he pressed her hand affectionately between both of his, with a look of sad but respectful tenderness, which touched her more than she liked to allow. He had hardly left the room'when Rebecca entered it with the tea, her face radiant from the pleasure she hoped to give as she laid a letter before Isolina. It was indeed a long-expected letter from George; and, after pouring out the tea and seeing her mother provided with a'll she wanted and Rebecca in attendance, she sat down quietly to skim the contents, which she hoped to read more at her leisure upon her return from the concert. But she had hardly glanced over it when the letter dropped from her hands. "La; miss! what's the matter?" asked Rebecca, who had been watching her with delight, and was startled by seeing her turn so pale. "Nothing, Rebecca,'3.aid Isolina, recovering herself, and the color returning heightened to her cheeks. "No- thing," she repeated, as she picked up the letter and tried to read it again; but the words seemed to- dazzle her, and their meaning to be incomprehensible. George informed her he meant to return home early in the following spring, that he would then hear from her own lips whether she had been maligned, or whether what had been told of her was untrue. He went on to say that the tales told him of her were no worse than he had foreseen when he-entreated her to retire into private life; that he would not condemn her until he had seen her and heard all from herself; but that, if he then discovered her affection for him had been transferred to another, he would' restore her the liberty she desired, and never see her more. ISOLINA. 421 Just as she finished reading George's letter for the third time, the foothov entered to announce that the car- riage was at the door. She rase mechanically, and al- lowed Rebecca to put on her cloak for her. She then kissed her mother's cheek with even greater warmth than usual, and bade her farewell. It was not till she had entered the carriage, and been refreshed by the cold night-air, that she was able to compose her, spirits for the task before her. She had received a note from Mr. Bryant that morning informing her of his return to town, and offering to escort her to her concert, but add- ing that he would be so full of engagements all the day that he could not come to her; he hoped, however, she could call for him on the way. His cheerful, welcoming voice, as he joined her in the carriage, almost melted her to tears, and it was a full minute before she could com- mand her own to reply. When she mounted the platform for the singers, a round of applause greeted her appearance, and she re- solved to stifle sad or anxious thoughts and throw her- self wholly into the spirit of the music.. The effort annd excitement were even pleasurable sensations, as they roused her from the despondency which caused such a weight at her heart. Looking round at the audience, she distinguished Co!f t Jacopo, within a few benches friom the platform, an: on catching her eye he left his place;, and was the next minute- by her side. He in- stantly recognized Mr. Bryant, and held out his hand to him with the utmost cordiality; but he was. received with a stiffness which surprised and distressed Isolina. She felt more kindly towards him than she had ever felt before, and allowed him to assume the right of relation- ship,. accepting his assiduities in spite of various checks received from her old friend, who was not quite satisfied with her conduct. As she rose to sing, the applause which had greeted her entrance was redoubled. Never before had her voice sounded so rich and sweet. Its louder strains seemed to fill every corner of the vast hall, whilst the softest note was heard in whispered melody by every individual present. This evening she indulged in various orna- page: 428-429[View Page 428-429]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 428-429 428 ISOLINA. ' ments unusual with her, but, like a bird, she seemed to delight in, her own harmony, and she threw herself into the full enjoyment of her art,as she strove to forget her fears and the pain occasioned by her lover's letter. She was called upon to repeat her song a second and a third time, and at each repetition she added some fresh beauty, exerting all her powers to give expression to the music. Alas! she had forgotten the delicacy of her chest and the warnings of physicians'; with the last notes, blood gushed from her mouth, and she sank back in her chair. She had broken a blood-vessel, and the songstress would sing no more. Mr. Bryant and Count Jacopo instantly hastened to her assistance. Medical aid was procured, and she was conveyed home as quickly and as gently as possible. Forbidden to speak, she wrote an injunction that her mother should not be alarmed by what had happened. Rebecca, accordingly, told Mrs. Camelli that Isolina had returned with a bad headache, and satisfied her mind until the next morning, when Mr. Bryant undertook to acquaint her with the true state of the case. Gently as he broke it to her, the shock was too great, and Mrs. Camelli had another paralytic seizure, from which she never recovered. Lady Campbell had been at once telegraphed- for, and arrived without delay. The physicians prescribed com- plete rest for Isolina, and'that, as soon as the patient should be sufficiently recovered, she should be removed to a milder climate for the spring. As the island of Bute, on the coast of Scotland, was at a more convenient dis- tance than France or Italy, and only half a day's journey from Birkenbrae, it was decided that she should be con- veyed thither when possible. Mrs. Camelli's death, which took place a week after her daughter's attack of illness, was strictly kept from Isolina, and it was only three weeks later, when the physician considered her sufficiently recovered to bear the communication, that Lady Campbell informed her all was over. Her; kind friend was hardly prepared for the burst of passionate grief which followed the realization of her loss. It was perhaps now for the first time Isolina was truly aware ISOLINA. 429 that, in spite of all her mother's irritability or peevish- ness of temper, her follies, her discontent, which had been her daughter's daily trials from childhood, she loved her more devotedly than any one on earth, even more than Lady Campbell, who had never given her an hour's pain. Her mothev had been the only being she could really call her own; the only being from whom she could' claim as a right the partial and unfailing love of a parent. She had never before known real solitude, aqd, in the complete silence which follows death, she felt the im- mensity of that distance which can never b diminished until it ceases altogether, and till we follow Far beloved ones to the home where they have preceded us. As soon as Isolina was allowed to use a pen, she wrote to Captain Mowbray as follows: "Before this reaches you you must have heard of my misfortune, since Lady Campbell, at my request, has already written to you. Perhaps you will not think that a misfortune which puts an end to my earning a livelihood in a manner you disapprove. I have no longer the mo- tive which justified my refusal to comply with your desire. My beloved mother has left me for another and a better world, and I would gladly follow her. Your last cold letter, filled with unjust suspicion, gave me more pain than I can well express. If you cannot trust me, it is better that we should release each other from our engagement; yet:I have not courage to contemplate the idea of being left alone in the world. But for Sir Roger and Lady Campbell, I know not what would become of me. Write to me, and tell me what occasioned your unkind letter, and of what you accuse me. Reproach me if you will, tell me you think you have less cause to love me, but love me nevertheless. I want your love the more, now that my mother has left me. Spare me this terrible suspense, and believe that, whatever you may be, I am unchanged." ... The months of February, March, and April were spent in the island of Bute, but without much apparent benefit to Isolina's health. Lady Campbell never left her. In May, however, a change for the better took place; and, the spring being unusually mild, they obtained the phy- page: 430-431[View Page 430-431]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 430-431 430 ISOLINA. sician's leave to remove to Birkenbrae. The journey did Isolina good, but nothing would have so much conduced to her restoration to health and happiness as a letter from George; but none came, although Lady Campbell herself had written to him. Ellinor could not bear to see the nervous start and anxious look turned towards the door every time it opened about the hour the post was ex. pected. At length rsolina was made happy. George had been absent on a cruise, and had only just returned to find his aunt's and Isolina's last letters. He was full of self-reproach, of anxiety; and though he gave no ex- planation of his past suspicions, he appeared satisfied, and only eager for the day when he could return to England and claim her as his own. Lady Campbell was less pleased with the contents of this letter than Isolina, but would not damp her pleasure by expressing her opinion. A fortnight later another letter arrived. George hoped to be home in September or early in November, and was rejoiced that meantime Isolina would continue with the Campbells. . He expressed, indeed, little sympathy with her on the death of her mother, though anxious about her own health, and hardly alluded to the deprivation she experienced in the loss of her voice. Captain Mowbray thought he loved Isolina passionately, and would have been surprised could he have known that his aunt read in his anxiety only a selfishness which looked for its own gratification, not the gratification of the being he supposed he loved. Isolina loved too much to be self- seeking, and therefore thought she herself must be to blame if certain misgivings suggested themselves. Sir Roger began to think that Isolina would be the better for a companion nearer her own age, some one who would break the daily routine of their lives, and suggest new topics of conversation, which, when three people are left many weeks together, is apt to flow in the same channel. By his advice, Lady Campbell wrote to Beatrice Hervey, who was returning from the North of Ireland, where she had been spending the months of July and August with the Tierneys, and had acted bridesmaid to Mabel on her marriage to Frederick Mowbray. She was passing through Scotland with the Fanshaws, and, ISOLINA. 431 as they meant to extend their tour northwards, she was able to pay a visit meantime to Birkenbrae. Isolina at first dreaded the arrival of a visitor, and more especially of one so lively as Beatrice, fresh from the gayety of a marriage. When Miss Hervey first saw her, she was more shocked than Lady Campbell had anticipated at the change in Isolina's appearance. She appeared to have grown a head taller, and her extreme pallor was perhaps more striking from her being in deep mourning. Easily fatigued, when the conversation, from its very cheerfulness, became oppressive, Isolina would seek refuge in her own room, and it was sometimes a couple of hours before she was able to return. She had a con- stant friend and companion in poor Rebecca. Age had softened some of the asperities in her temper, if thought had caused deepened furrows in her face. The affection she had borne Mrs. Camelli was all transferred to Isolina, and the solicitude with which she watched every symp- tom of the disease, which she alone thought incurable, Stouched her young mistress as the proof of a love which was centred in her, the sole object of her devotion. The cup of tea always brought to her in the early morning, the frequent little delicate m als with which she tried to tempt her to eat when she had tasted nothing at break- fast and dinner, the additional shawl always ready if the wind happened to blow from a bleak quarter, all those unspoken attentions which demand no thanks, roused Isolina's gratitude towards the faithful old servant who had been her mother's companion -for so many years. It was already August, and a true Scotch August, and Isolina never felt so happy as when established in her arm-chair on one side of the fireplace, with Rebecca opposite, knitting her never-ending stocking; they could talk of old days, of her father, her mother, their home upon the banks of the Thames, of Rose Cottage, and Lupo. Isolina had named a little terrier Sir Btoger had given her after her old favorite, and he always formed a third in the group, curled up at her feet. Lady Campbell's tap at the door, with her gentle "May I come in?" would often interrupt them, and, sitting down beside them, she would listen with kindly sympathy and interest, and add page: 432-433[View Page 432-433]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 432-433 432 ISOLINA. those caresses and tender, consolatory words which made Isolina feel there is no sorrow that has not its attendant blessings. Lady Campbell was, howefer, convinced that the constant indulgence in anxious thoughts was injuring Isolina's health, and undoing the benefit she had derived from her residence in the Isle of Bute; she would, there- fore, sometimes ask leave to bring Beatrice Hervey with her, to invade what that young lady called Isolina's domains. She was hardly made welcome at first, but Beatrice's frank, genial nature gradually gained upon Isolina's heart, till from liking she grew to loving. Bea. trice, on her side, had become sincerely attached to Isolina, and she was often surprised to find how quickly she detected the shadow which, like those cast-by clouds on a sunny landscape, flitted across Beatrice's merriment and imparted a sadness to her most lively talk. CHAPTER XLIV. "From toil he wins his spirits light, From busy day the peaceful night, Rich from the very want of wealth, In heaven's best treasures, peace andhealth." GRAY. ONE cold, windy afternoon, early in September, when Sir Roger and Lady Campbell had gone out for a brisk walk across the moors, Beatrice, wrapped in a thick shawl, ran down the old corridor and knocked at Isolina's door The rooms which opened upon this corridor were all assigned to Lady Campbell's use, and two of them were given to "her child." There was a bright fire burning in the grate, and beside it sat Isolina, reading, whilst oppo- site to her was Rebecca, with her knitting, who rose as Beatrice entered, and left the room. "How snug you look, Isolina! The sight and feeling ISOLINA. 433 of your warm, bright little room are quite enjoyable this cold, dull afternoon, and it looks all the more tempting, coming off that dismal corridor, with its draughts at every turn. Even the view from the windows there looks gloomy on a day like this. I do wonder at Lady Camp- bell's taste in choosing to go out in such a wind." "I do not suppose it is her taste exactly," said Isolina; "but she is well protected in her fur cloak, and she always likes to accompany Sir Roger." "I never met with such a Darby and Joan couple as they are. It is quite delightful to see them, and indeed I do not know which is the more charming. This old, soli- tary mansion would be hardly endurable were it not for their conversation, would it?" "I suppose not," said Isolina, smiling-; "but I asso- ciate so much kindness here, it feels so like a home for me, that I love even these dismal old walls; besides, this room is always cheerful." " So it is; but it is Lady Campbell who really makes it so. I never saw so happy a person; yet I do not think her life has been particularly fortunate," said Beatrice. "No; but she has a mind which sees good in every- thing," remarked Isolina. "I beg your pardon, but I should never call hbr an optimist. She can find plenty of faults with the world, like other people, which is the very reason I like her. I cannot endure self-righteous persons who make out every- thing to be good, whilst always seeing evil in those who venture to hold a different opinion, and look so horribly scandalized at a naughty sentiment or an innocent piece of scandal; they make goodness odious." "I do not mean that she thinks everything and every person perfection, only that she has brought herself so completejy to feel whatever is, is right, that " "That would not be happiness, Isolina, but resigna- tion. No," continued Beatrice, shaking her head, whilst her eyes were fixed dreamily on the fire, " you have not found out her secret of happiness." "Perhaps Sir Roger?" "He has no doubt a good share in it; but I have seen T 37 page: 434-435[View Page 434-435]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 434-435 434 ISOLINA. many fortunate wives who make themselves and their husbands anything but happy." "Perhaps her happiness is really founded on never being idle." "Nearer the mark; but there are many busy people who are unhappy too." "But her work is always doing good; always com- pleting something." "That is it, Isolina ; we have all of us such a craving to fulfill something in our lives, and there is no pleasure like beginning, working at, and ending that something,- completing it, as you say. Yes, I suppose it is that which makes the artist so happy in his studio. I remem- ber envying every artist I visited in oRome; he has no leisure to weary of life, or even to count its disappoint- ments. I cannot tell you how sick I have often been of my own aimless existence; how I have wearied over dinners and balls; how I have loathed the sight of the broiled turkey with its white sauce and mushrooms, whose many generations of ancestors we have devoured in suc- cessive years, and how my senses have inwardly yawned over the identical waltz tune and set of quadrilles, and the identical remarks of partners in search of conversation; how I have calculated the number of steps by which my feet have traveled the same round, in the same wild-goose chase. And what has come of it all? Here am I, Beatrice Hervey still, rejoicing perhaps, like a true old maid, at having escaped from the bad husbands who are always to be had, but who thinks, nevertheless, she would have liked very well to have secured a good one." "But you are still yqung." "Oh, don't encourage me in any such ideas, my dearest Isolina. Why, I am past eight-and-twenty!" "You do not look so much." "Perhaps not; but that does not help me. I don't think I would marry now, and I suppose that I shall have to keep house for Arthur, when he is an old bachelor." "But he may marry." "Then I must set up as hospital nurse, or whatever may be the fashion of the day. By the bye, are not you ISOLINA. 4 435 related to a young lady, quondam governess, named Miss Victoria Carr?" "Yes: her father was second-cousin to my mother; he kept a mercer's shop in Woodford, and died, leaving his family in great poverty. Victoria helped to support them, and when last I saw her she was companion to Mrs. Shenstone. " "I fear poor Victoria has come to grief. She has run off with Lord Philip Wenbourne, in the vain belief he will make her his wife. The poor girl is ruined, and, by what you say, I am afraid the family too. I am sorry I have shocked you. Did you care for her?" "No, not care for her; but I have known her as a child. Poor girl, and poor Mrs. Carr How grieved mamma would have been! Do you know what has since become of her?" "Nothing, except that she has been charitably taken in by some relation, and I suppose she will by-and-bv swell the numerous list of ladies glad of an allowance of twenty pounds a year to save them from starvation. If, as I am told, the largest number of our paupers were once domestic servants, I am sure domestic teachers come next on the list," "Victoria shall not want if I can help her!" exclaimed Isolina, with tears in her eyes. "Now, you dear little creature, don't take it so to heart: we will all help for your sake, since you take such an interest in her; but you are an engaged woman, and therefore your earnings will not long be at your own dis. posal. Do you know, Isolina, though you were once governess to my little sisters, 1 never could look upon you as a common governess? I always thought you such a child, too, though there are only four years between "That is not much, Beatrice, at our ages." "No, and you need not mind my knowing the secret of yours. A married woman at thirty is still young, when an unmarried woman is an old maid. You see, I am trying to accustom mny ear to the sound,-Mrs. Beatrice Hervey! I think I shall turn a blue when I am really old, and take to books, instead of men: they are much page: 436-437[View Page 436-437]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 436-437 436 ISOLINA. more satisfactory.- First, we can always converse with the one we choose; secondly, they talk to us just as long. as we please, and no longer, and they will not run away if one is stupid; and thirdly, we are quite sure we un. derstand those we like, if they do not understand us, and that-it is our own fault if they deceive or vex us." "I see Sir Roger and Lady Campbell returning," ex- claimed Isolina, who had been watching from the window for the last few minutes. "And this is the way you listen to my wise observa. tions on life 1" said Beatrice. "I must be off, or I shall be scolded for tiring you with my disquisitions. We have, at any rate, been very moral. I have, not really tired you, have I?" she asked, kissing her, as Isolina laughingly shook her head. "Thank you for your good fire," she added; "I am at last warmed through." Beatrice tripped lightly from the room, and Isolina heard her cheerful voice singing down the corridor, and her greet ing to Lady Campbell, whom she encountered at the farther end. One morning Beatrice came to Lady Campbell with an open note in her hand. It was from Elgiva, who, with her husband, was on her way south, and who offered to spend a few days with Sir Roger and Lady Campbell before they carried Beatrice away. !"1 am not sure, my dear, that we shall consent to the whole of this proposal of your sister's. Pray write and tell her, however, we shall be delighted to see her and Sir Thomas." 1"1But, my dear Lady Campbell, I must prepare you for another visitor," said Beatrice': "Tom's-friend,kCouut Jacopo Priuli, has joined them. He has been in Venice, but returned to this country just in time for Mrs. Mow- bray's wedding, to which he had been invited, and Elgiva writes to me they have fallen in with him again at In- verary, and he is now traveling with them. Do you think you will have room for him too?" Lady Campbell looked grave, and said she would con- sult Sir Roger. "To tell the truth," she added, " he is not a great favorite with Sir Roger, and, as we expect Mr. Bryant, who is less charitable to this Count Priuli ISOLINA. 437 than I have known him to any other person, it might be a little awkward." "I think people are often very severe," said Beatrice, tartly, " and Mr. Bryant especially so. After all, Count Priuli is a very accomplisbed, agreeable man, accustomed to the best society in his own country, and with the man- ners of a gentleman; and one cannot afford to be so very particular." "I can afford to be very particular, my dear Beatrice, whom I admit to my house. I would rather limit my society to two or three than associate with or receive any one I could not esteem; yet I believe I can tolerate many you would not think attractive, and I am glad to find the world better than its reputation would often lead one to suppose." "You have been very fortunate, then, Lady Campbell; for my part, I find agreeable people the exceptions. If there is one thing I do abhor and avoid, it is the insipid- ity, the commonplaceism, of which we have only too much. Anything else is endurable. Perhaps it is a sign of age in me, and that the freshness and novelty of many things have passed away, that I enjoy meeting with a. character a little different from the common run, and therefore, in that case, I have become tolerant of faults which I might have thought very shocking when younger." "A longer life than yours has taught me a different lesson, Beatrice. I have learned to see very valuable qualities in people whom I should once have despised for that very insipidity you describe, and I have become ex- tremely intolerant of worldliness and low sentiment in the garb of very plausible reasoning, propriety, and even talent. I have discovered much that is extremely com- monplace in those who affect originality, even where there is a certain amount of real ability to excuse, if not to justify, their pretensions. I find, with an increased knowledge of human nature, I exclude some I should once have valued as you do, and include many among my friends I should formerly have rejected." "I do not understand how it is, dear Lady Campbell, but you seema, in spite of your philosophy, to retain your 37* page: 438-439[View Page 438-439]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 438-439 438 ISOLINA. youthfulness of mind and feeling, whilst many so much younger, like myself, feel old: you seem to create fresh interests and enjoyments, when I feel all so vapid. lHow I envy you ," "There is nothing that I enjoy which all may not enjoy. I was not married till long after your age. I had my trials, my/sorrows, and I have had them since my marriage too. I have felt the satiety of life you complain' of, my dear Beatrice, and-----" "And you found a cure." "Not till I made myself an aim in life." "You mean Isolina." "I do." "But every one cannot find an Isolina; and if they could, I am not sure that every one would desire it. For instance, I myself: to bring up a friend's child would be the greatest imaginable bore; and as for teaching and school-mistress work, which so many are so fond of, I think nothing could be more tiresome. I must say I do pity governesses." "So do I; though for a very different reason," said Lady Campbell. '-But I no more believe every woman to be capable of being a governess or school-mistress than every man capable of being a statesman or poet. We are certainly all intended for different vocations. The greatest mistake, in my opinion, however, in the education of women, is to suppose they are to have but one and the same aim in life,--marriage; which ought to come to them as it does to men, as a circumstance or event, which should increase their happiness, not form the business of their lives." "Then you would have every woman trained to be a professor?" "By no means. We may be very sure that a general good training, not superficial accomplishments, but culti- vation of head and heart, such as would make a woman a good daughter, a good sister, a good friend, and a good and economical administrator of her parents' household whilst single, will always enable her to make a good wife and mother. But the great misfortune of a young lady's life is, that with all this she has nothing to do, nothing ISOLINA. 439 to which her heart and head are specially directed, no- thing that could not just as well be performed by any other less well-educated person, perhaps better, after a i few weeks' experience. It would greatly conduce to a healthy condition of mind and to her own happiness, as well as usefulness, if she were educated for some object, some specialty, in accordance with her individual ca- pacity or taste; and this has, I think, been entirely overlooked."' "( Such a plan would, it appears to me," said Beatrice,; "Iead to no end of candidates, such a rivalship of claims among the learned bodies, that I do not know what the world would come to; and, amidst all this jostling, what would become of chivalry, and the delicate little atten- tions we ladies are so fond of receiving?" "-As what I propose," continued Lady Campbell, smiling, "would not diminish the proportion of married women to single, the rivalship would not be so great as you imagine. Besides, it is not necessary that all should make money by their vocation. The openings for women in every class must, at any rate, be more limited than those for men, and the claims of home upon the time of almost all, would still further limit the number of candi- dates, especially as they advance in age." "You must pardon me if I ask you if you really think Isolina was fit to be a governess. She appears to me to have found her true vocation when she became a singer; for she is too lady-like, too sensitive, to undergo the necessary disagreeables of a governess's life." a"No," replied Lady Campbell; "I do not think she was at all fitted by nature to be a governess, and she never would have been one had I been in England. Not that she is too lady-like, or too sensitive: that is an imputar tion, richly deserved, as I think, on those who make the position of a governess necessarily a painful one."' "I do not see how it can be helped," observed Beatrice; "a governess in a house is a necessary evil, and she who is the cause of discomfort must be. the sufferer." "I can see a way in which the services of a governess can be dispensed with," said Lady Campbell; " which is, for mothers to undertake the education of their children page: 440-441[View Page 440-441]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 440-441 "O ISOLIN4.jA themselves, or to send them to school, or, which appears to me preferable, to have a daily teacher, employed to educate merely in certain branches of knowledge. \But that the position of a governess can be made not oly tolerable, but happy, and that, as a logical consequence, greater advantages can be obtained from her services, I fully believe possible." "Only in a world of philanthropy," said Beatrice. "When it is fully understood and acknowledged," pro: ::ceeded Lady Campbell, "that a woman has other and higher aims in life than that only one of being the com- panion of man, she will receive a fitting education accord. ingly; an education which has in view neither wealth nor rank, neither independence nor marriage, but the development of all the faculties given her by God, and their application for the furtherance of the virtue, well- being, and happiness of others as well as herself. This ought to be the only true aim in the education of Christian men and women." "But you surely cannot expect that we poor mortals can arrive at anything so sublime?" "Possibly not; but if we have not the highest aim in view, we shall never make a step forward." "The world will never attain to what you desire.-2 "Never is a long word, Beatrice," said Lady Camp- bell; "but so long as this is not attained or understood, the education of girls must remain at a low standard, however accomplished they may be, and mothers must, with rare exceptions, endure a governess as a necessary evil. The aimless lives of the daughters of the rich must lead to unhappiness, if not to vice, and to an old age of dissipation without enjoyment, or bigotry without religion." "What, then, would you have those do who have no necessity to make money, or those who, you say, are unfit to be teachers?" "I would have them early in life make an aim for themselves, if they are not happy enough to have had it made for them by others. Let th m turn to music, art, science, literature, philanthropic labors,-what they will; but, whatever vocation they seect, let them do it with' Iso r Lv4A. 441 all their hearts, and endeavor to master it by labor and study, as the professor who depends on his learning for his livelihood. The very process of study will strengthen the judgment and create an interest in life worthy -of a rational being. Above all, my dear Beatrice, it would make worldly honors, vanities, jealousies, and ambition appear as paltry as they are,matters of indifference compared with the earnest pursuits which would form our daily occupation. We should ever be renewing the fresh delights of our youth; thanking God for our allotted portion of life here, not ungratefully repining at its satiety. We should never grow old." Beatrice smiled at Lady Campbell's enthusiasm. "You will never grow old, I am -sure. Thank you for your lecture: it is very wise, very good; but I am afraid the world will continue in its old track, in spite of such as yop,who can teach by example as well as by precept." They were at this moment joined by Sir Roger, who was informed of the proposed visit of Sir Thomas and Lad'y Fanshaw and of Count Priuli. He did not see any objection to Mr. Bryant's meeting the count, and, though he acknowledged he was no favorite of his, he declared himself shocked at his wife's inhospitable doubts. "He is a foreigner, my dear, traveling in Scotland, and would you have me shut my doors against him? Besides, as Miss Hervey says, he is a clever, accomplished, agree- able man, and, I dare say, he will be an acquisition in our dull mansion." "i never called it dull, Sir Roger," said Beatrice. "Pray don't stand on any ceremony with me; I am quite aware that we have not much to amuse a young lady: not even a country neighbor within twenty miles of us. I assure you I feel grateful for the cheerful good humor with which you have enlivened us all, and I am glad of the chance of a little amusement for you." Lady Campbell accordingly wrote her invitations to Sir Thomas and Lady Fanshaw and Count Priuli. When Mr. Bryant rrived the following day, she was relieved to find that-e looked neither annoyed nor surprised to hear of the guest expected at Birkenbrae. On the con- trary, be remarked that he should be glad to meet him, T* page: 442-443[View Page 442-443]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 442-443 "2 ISOLINA. as he had a question to ask on a point of antiquarian research, which he believed no one could 'ahswer so satis. factorily as Count Jacopo Priuli. CHAPTER XLV. "To joys forbidden man aspires, Consumes his soul with vain desires, Folly the spring of her pursuit, And disappointment all the fruit." COWPER. BEATRICE HERVEY had spent three weeks at Birken- brae, when the arrival of Sir Thomas and Lady Fan- shaw, accompanied by Count Jacopo Priuli, broke the quiet spell of her life in the old Scottish mansion. Elgiva brought with her no less a person than Mrs. Villiers. In proportion as Alice had gained a wife's legitimate v influence over her husband, Lady Emmeline's power had declined, and from the period of this decline her favorite, Mrs. Villiers, had been dismissed from the duchess's service. Lady Emmeline would have taken her into lier own, but Villiers had no notion of leading a secluded life with a lady who never went to. balls and parties, who seldom had dresses to give away in a condition worthy of her acceptance, and who, besides, expected her servants to attend morning and evening prayers, to go twice a day to church on Sunday, and to submit to a strict observance of the gloomiest of Sabbaths. JIn short, Mrs. Villiers was not yet prepared to do penance for her own and Lady Emmeline's sins. Lady Fanshaw happened to be just then in want of a lady's-maid, and Elgiva was the sort of mistress to suit Mrs. Villiers, whose attachment to Lady Emmeline was converted into very opposite feelings when that lady, in a fit of ill temper, very nearlyprevented Lady Fanshaw from taking her into her service; and, though this failed, the offense was not forgotten. ISOLINA. 443 Isolina was not present when the party arrived at- Birkenbrae, nor did she make her appearance unt'il the n0fA morning. Count Jacopo took an opportunity the very first evening, and when able to speak to Lady Camp- bell unheard by the rest of the party, to inform her he had been lately to Venice on a most painful mission. His uncle, Count Michieli, ever since his arrest upon false grounds some months ago, had, owing likewise to some 'other unhappy circumstances -connected with his imprisonment, shown signs of aberration of intellect, which in the last few weeks had amounted to absolute insanity. It had become necessary to put him under confinement, and the authorities had appointed him (Count Jacopo) to administer his uncle's affairs until he should be sufficiently recovered to take their manage. m ent again into his own hands. Lady Campbell listened to this account with, deep con- cern. She requested Count Jacopo to abstain from men- tioning so lamentable an occurrence to Isolina, as in her weak, nervous state it was impossible to say what effect it might have upon her; and this request he readily' promised to obey. When Isolina made her appearance the next morning at breakfast, her extreme delicacy touched even Elgiva. As the adopted daughter of Sir Roger and Lady Campbell, as the singer who had excited such a furor in the last -London season, and still more as the Countess Michieli, though vunacknowledged by her father's family, Isolina was regarded through a very different medium from that through which she had been viewed when Elgiva's governess. But Elgiva herself appeared to have lost the gayety of her youth; Lady Campbell, and even Beatrice, could not avoid remarking the careworn, anxious expression in her face. Count Jacopo seemed to exercise a sort of power over her greater than 'her own husband. Though Elgiva never forgot the pro- prieties of a married woman, she was certainly never so happy as when flirting with some ole, and Count Jacopo was, at this moment, her devoted attendant. Sir, Thomas was indulgent, and the count's flattery and assi- duity, whilst pleasing the vanity of the lady, did not page: 444-445[View Page 444-445]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 444-445 "4 ISOLINA. prevent him from being an agreeable traveling-companion to her husband. It was some days after their arrival at Birkenbrae that Elgiva began to perceive his homage to herself was only a blind to cover his real attentions to Isolina. Beatrice was not so deceived: she too had taken a fancy for this same foreign count; her heart, like the dove from the ark, wanted a resting-place, and she was ready to perch on any branch, however unpromising, if it only rose above the weary monotony of the waters which covered her prospect. The only being she truly loved had bestowed his affections on Isolina; and though she thought she had conquered this weakness, for she was generous by nature, the recollection of George Mowbray would even now at times draw forth a passing sigh; but she could flirt with others, and, in spite of her horror of commonplaceism, she would gladly have accepted the hand of any respectable, well-born. gentleman who would offer her an independent home. She could hardly reckon Count Jacopo in the category of "respectable gentlemen," but he possessed other and stronger attractions: he had established, his reputation among the lawgivers of high- born and literary fashion, and, above all, he greatly ad. mired Beatrice Hervey. She now perceived, with the quick eyes of mortified self-esteem, that he also was at the feet of Isolina,--Isolina again, who bad already deprived her, as she thought, of one lover whom she could honestly have vowed to obey. It was a little trial: little, because there was not much question of the heart; yet great, to one who had her full share of vanity as well as pride, like Beatrice. But she was-perhaps more vexed by Elgiva's impertinent, petty triumph in her own supposed conquest, than by Isolina's unconscious acceptance of Count Jacopo's real devotion. Mr. Bryant, who might have warned Isolina of her danger had he anticipated any, left Birk- enbrae in a couple of days for a Highland tour, and he departed with a more agreeable impression of the count than he had ever had before. Beatrice was, however, puzzled. She, as well as Sir Thomas and Lady Fanshaw, had been made acquainted by Lady Campbell with the history of Isolina's family. ISOLINA. i 445 Lady Campbell desired that they should understand ex- actly the relationship of Count Jacopo, and his intimacy with his cousin; but Beatrice thought his devotion to Isolina was much more that of a lover than a cousin, and yet, at times, he was as lover-like to herself, and even to Elgiva. She could not make him out. Again, she had detected him in private conversations with her sister, and though Elgiva assumed the coquettish airs of a mistress over her devoted slave, she was evidently more afraid of him than he of her. All this Beatrice observed, till she began positively-to dislike Count Jacopo. She wished she could inspire her brother-in-law with her dislike; but. Sir Thomas only provoked her by his cool indifference. Count Jacopo's situation was indeed a delicate one, and it required all his skill to steer well through it. He had succeeded in proving that his uncle's mind was not in a sound state, to which Count Michieli's conduct, and his separation from all his former friends, gave a sufficient color of truth. During Count Jacopo's visit to Venice, he carefully avoided a meeting with his uncle, whilst contriving to have him placed temporarily under sur- veillance until he was conveyed to an asylum. Count Michieli might, however, find an opportunity to prove his sanity to the satisfaction of those who had him in charge, and, if liberated, he would undoubtedly fulfill his intention of making Isolina his heiress, and would take measures to preXent her uniting herself with one to whose influence he had already begun to trace the mis- fortunes of his life. Should the uncle, by some happy chance, die under the imputation of lunacy, any will lately made would be set aside. In this last case, it might be more advantageous to Count Jacopo to marry Beatrice Hervey; but should a union with his cousin be the more desirable of the two, it must be accomplished either before his uncle could be let loose on society, or before Isolina could be made aware of what had passed. Meantime, his heart (or whatever might bear that de- nomination in a man who acted on every occasion on the cool calculation of his reason) led him to the feet of Isolina, and the more he feared the arrival of her avowed lover to deprive him of the possibility of obtaining her, 38 page: 446-447[View Page 446-447]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 446-447 "6 ISOLINA. the more passionate had become his attachment I He bad made use of Elgiva to get access to Birkenbrae, but his connection with her was of a different description. A gambler 'on the race-course, where he had won large sums of money, Lady Fanshaw had for some time past been among Count Jacopos victims. The amount of what she owed him, as well as to others more determined on obtaining immediate payment, was known only to him, and her alarm lest it should reach the ears of her husband rendered her willing to submit in everything to the wishes of the count. It was with jealous eyes, there- fore, that she watched his attentions to Isolina, whose engagement to Captain Mowbray he hoped might have met with some fresh impediments since last they parted. He, accordingly, lost no opportunity of ingratiating himself with her. Horse-exercise had been',prescribed for Isolina's health, and Count Jacopo was always ready to accompany her and Sir Roger on their rides; and whenever she joined the walking-party, mounted on her pony, he was always by her side, to lead her past dangerous places. Beatrice was amused at the signs of jealousy in Elgiva, who complained of the Scotch climate, her own health, and anything which .gave her an excuse for grumbling. She vented her ill humor chiefly on her husband; but, with unfailing good temper, he vainly tried to soothe or amuse her. He proposed to leave Birken- brae, but this she refused, as she was resolved not to de- part without Count Jacopo, and he had no intention of shortening his visit. The weather, in spite of Elgiva's complaints, was un- usually fine, and walks and rides had been uninterrupted. In one of these excursions, Isolina missed- her favorite little terrier. She was in such despair that C0unt Jacopo in- sisted on going in search of it that very afternoon, though it wasgalready so late that the twilight had set in. After retracing their walk in vain, it had become nearly dark before he could return. The moon had not risen, and it was difficult to find his way amidst the tangled brushwood, through which he was attempting to make a short cut, in the hope of reaching the house before dinner-time. As he returned to the path, which, winding through the wood, ISOLINA. 44T skirted half-way up the high bank of the river, he thought he perceived the shadow of a man, which he as instantly lost sight of behind the trees. He called, but no one answered', until, a few paces farther on, a sturdy peasant, returning from his work in the fields, came up with him. Touching his cap to the foreign count, he wished him a good-evening, and, after some passing remark on the late- ness of the hour, walked on and disappeared. Once or twice- Count Jacopo fancied he heard steps again behind him, but, as he could distinguish no sound when he him- self stood still, he was convinced it was only the echo of his own foot on the hard ground. He wished, however, that he had asked the' peasant to walk part of the way back with him, for he had that indescribably nervous sensation to which the bravest are at times subject, pro- ducing the effect of superstitious fears even- on minds which reject belief founded on truth. Count Jacopo, as, he strode along at a rapid pace, seemed to conjure up scenes long -past, with the -vision of those now far away. His boyish days, his cousin Enrico, their disputes at play, and the jealousy of Enrico, which had so early entered his heart,-all appeared like yesterday. Then followed the last time they met, his own return to Venice, and, his uncle's affectionate welcome. With this last recollec- tion came the thought of where that uncle now was, and through whose means. He vainly strove to stifle con- science, to assure himself that what had been done was absolutely necessary in order to provide for Count Michi- eli's safety, and that there could be no more doubt of his insanity than of his having tampered in revolutionary projects against the state. Count Jacopo's pace became even more rapid, until the roar of the waterfall, above which he had to cross by a bridge made of the trunks of trees, roused him from his reverie.- He had just passed in safety, when, turning, he dis- tinctly saw in the moonlight a man emerge from the deep shadow of the woods on the bank he had left and prepare to cross likewise. Count Jacopo hailed him, but received no reply. Perhaps the rush of the waters pre- vented the possibility of his voice reaching him. The figure moved onwards, and, as he arrived at the'.centre page: 448-449[View Page 448-449]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 448-449 "8 ISOLINA. of the bridge, looked up in the direction of the count, who stood gazing on him, as if transfixed to the spot. The moon now fell full upon the features of the stranger, and in that pale, haggard face Jacopo recognized his uncle. An exclamation of horror escaped his lips, and he turned to fly; but he had not gone far before he re- solved to ascertain if it was really Count Michieli he had seen, or if it was all the effect of a heated imagination. He summoned up courage to return to the spot he had left. The moon was shining as before on the rude bridge, and on the white foam of the waters, and silvered the foliage on the bank, but not a human being was in sight. After looking right and left for some minutes, he ascended the hill more rapidly than before, and rejoiced to find himself in his own room at Birkenbrae, where a cheerful fire and lighted candles awaited him. He hbad to pre. pare for dinner, and it was already late, but as his own palbface met him in the glass he started back. Ringing the bell, he asked for wine, saying he did not feel well. It was not until he had swallowed a couple of glasses that he was able to dress. The more he thought of his adventure, the more impossible it seemed to him for his uncle to have escaped from the asylum where he was carefully guarded, and that he should have found his way to Scotland. Could Count Michieli have died, and could it be his spirit he had beheld? Often as he had heard and read of such apparitions, he had not believed in them, nor did he now. He was unwell, and he was convinced that it had been nothing but the phantom of his brain. As Count Jacopo entered the drawing-room, Sir Roger met him, full of concern at his indisposition; and Isolina was profuse in thanks and in regrets that he should have so overfatigued himself on her account. Her cousin felt himself amply rewarded, and, seating himself beside her, he-mingled his lamentations with hers for the loss of her little terrier. She felt grateful for- his sympathy, espe- cially as Sir Roger had been rallying her on her distress at so small a cause, assuring her that he would soon be found. Isolina, accordingly, was -more frank with Count Jacopo than usual, whilst he endeavored to divert hbe thoughts by gay conversation; but in the midst of a ISOLINA. 449 merry laugh from Beatrice at some lively repartee, the pale vision he had lately seen would recur to him, till he fancied that he saw it again, even behind Isolina's beau- tiful young face. Late that evening Lupo was found by the same peasant whom the count had met on his walk, and who had heard of his loss. The letters Isolina received from George, though affec- tionate, were less warm, less lover-like, than formerly, and she was beginning to be alarmed at the state of her own feelings. Count Jacopo's attentions, which Lady Camp- bell partly attributed to foreign manners, partly to an amiable interest in his young cousin, had assumed a cer- tain tenderness, perceived only by Isolina herself, which had insensibly increased as he claimed greater intimacy, and which could .not but make its impression on one so sensitive to kindness. George's cold letters, his want of confidence in her, his never condescending to explain the cause of his doubts, had unconsciously lowered him in her estimation, whilst it made the contrast between the two more painful,-a contrast still greater in the despotic will with which George exacted that everything should yield to his dictation, and in the gentle homage with which her cousin sought only her gratification. It was the end of September, and Count Priuli was still a guest at Birkenbrae. The Fanshaws had lingered till they could linger no longer, and they were to take their departure in a couple of days. A last long walk across the moor was proposed. Lady Campbell could not accompany the party, but she charged Sir Roger to take good care of Isolina. The morning had been fine, but clouds had gathered towards the afternoon. Sir Roger at first kept his place'by Isolina's pony,: but soon' left her for the pedestrians who hung behind, as Count Jacopo was in such constant attendance that her guardian could -entertain no fear for her safety. They were abbut four miles from home, when the rolling of thunder warned them of the near approach of a storm. No shelter was within sight, and they had, therefore, to hurry on, under umbrellas, and protected by the waterproof cloaks they had prudently brought with them. Sir Roger's lameness made it impossible for him to keep up with the 38* page: 450-451[View Page 450-451]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 450-451 '450 ISOMNA. walkers, still less with the pony, and, anxious that Isolina should not catch fresh cold, he requested Count Jacopo to hasten on with her. The request was readily complied with, and, taking the bridle, the count walked rapidly on, in silence, until they were far in. advance of the rest of the party. ' The storm did not last above twenty minutes, and, when it subsided, Isolina found her t f alone with her cousin. It was then for the first timesince his arrival at Birkenbrae that he alluded to her engagement to Captain Mowbray, expressing his belief that her lover would prove unworthy of the confidence she reposed in him. "You wrong him; you do not know him," said Isolina, hurriedly, but in a tone which convinced Count Jacopo that she herself was not free from doubt. "When do you expect him to return to claim your hand?" "Captain Mowbray is expected this month in England." ' So soon I And if when he returns he again refuses to acknowledge his engagement to you?-Pardon me; you do not'perhaps know how much has been commu- nicated to me. It is my right, or rather my privilege, as your nearest of kin, to know all that concerns you." "And who "No matter who; am I not correct? Captain Mow- bray has asked to marry you, but privately, because he was ashamed to own one who had been a governess, a public singer, many of whose family on the mother's side are in trade, and whose father was an actor. Lord and Lady Elton refuse to welcome you. as a daughter, and their son, who professes to love you, would persuade you to trust to his honor some day to acknowledge you openly: and you can believe in such love, Isolina!"She was silent. "And now," he continued, after a pause, "he has been absent from you a year, and no doubt he nourishes your hopes by letters lavish of affection; but, my dear, dear cousin, trustfrf deeds, not words." "Count Jacopo, indeed-I-you forget that I have given my word,-that Captain Mowbray is my promised husband." "No, I do not forget; nor do I forget that Captain Mowbray is a sailor, and that sailors are well known for I SOLINA. 451 their gallantry to fair ladies on shore, and that what he proposed to you, and you wisely refused, was degrading to you even to listen to. After such a proposal you ought not to have entered into any engagement with him,--you ought not to have trusted him. He will betray you." "Never I .He will never betray me. I cannot believe, after all that has passed between us--" "Isolina, you will think what I say is self-interested, when I confess that had you not been engaged to Cap- tain Mowbray I might have offered you my hand and heart. As it is, I wait; wait till your eyes are open, till you are undeceived. Yet I dread his return,-dread for you the revival of your loyve to one I feel sure--I know is unworthy of it. I have not many words; I cannot protest and swear that I love you; but if the devotion of. my life can ever prove to you the passionate affection I feel for you in my heart of hearts, it shall be yours. Nay, do not answer me; I know what you will say, what you must say. I would not wound your sense of honor. I could not love you as I do if you were not as faithful, as noble, as you are." Every word Count Jacopo uttered seemed to give form and reality to the'doubts which had for some time past been floating uneasily in Isolinals own mind, and for which she bad reproached herself a thousand times, as arguing inconstancy to George. It was enough for her cousin that she was not offended at the accusations against her absent lover. They were now near the house, and, as they arrived at the door, he lifted her gently but respectfully from her" horse. As he placed her on the steps, he raised her hand to his lips, kissing it with fervor, whilst looking up in her face with the passionate tenderness of an ardent lover. She turned her head from him with more of self-reproach than displeasure against Count Priuli, when at the same moment her eyes met those of George Mowbray, who had been waiting eagerly for her return from her ride. - He stood no w with folded arms, look- ing scornfully at her, as, with a cry of mingled joy and pain, she stretched both-her arms towards him, tottered, and fell fainting to the ground. It was Count Jacopo who raised her and carried her to the sofa in the drawing-room. page: 452-453[View Page 452-453]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 452-453 452 ISOLINA. CHAPTER XLVI. "But not till time has calmed the ruffled breast Are these fond dreams of happiness confest. Not till the rushing winds forget to rave, Is Heaven's sweet smile reflected on the wave." ROGERS. AN hour later, Count Jacopo encountered George Mowbray as he was pacing up and down the terrace at the back of the house. Captain Mowbray bowed stiffly- and attempted to pass, but the count stopped him. "Our acquaintance has begun inauspiciously," he began. "And is likely-so to end, sir." - "I beg your pardon. I hope that the offense, if such there be, may be easily explained away." "There is no offense, count.' I came here to claim a young lady as my bride, and I find that she has, in my absence, bestowed her affections on another. Of course you were not aware that she was already my promised wife." '"And perhaps you are not aware, Captain Mowbray, that the young lady is my cousin; that I am one of her nearest male relations, and therefore may claim an Inti- macy next to that of her future husband. I have also a right to inquire something of him on whom she proposes to bestow her- hand. Her happiness is my-concern, and you will believe that one so beautiful, so good, makes that happiness a subject of the deeper interest to me. Her grandfather and natural protector, Count Michieli, is an old man, and I grieve to say that recent misfortunes have affected his mind and made it necessary to place him under restraint. The relation in which I stand- to Isolina, and our having frequently been together lately in the houses of mutual friends, have produced an intimacy which -' "Which has ended in your having become her accepted lover," said Captain Mowbray. "Would that it had been possible I But her fidelity to ISOLINA. 453 you, her delicate sense of honor, forbade it. Nor should I have cherished the remotest hope, had I not learned that there were objections in your fanmily to the connection with my cousin, and that even you hesitated to ally your- self with one, however charming, whose relations on the mother's side are not noble. I understand your objec- tions," Count Jacopo added, with a contemptuous smile, "but I could not put forward my pretensions till Miss Camelli was wholly released from her engagement. Your arrival, after a protracted absence, has for the present put an end to my hopes." "By no- means, count; I do not mean to impose any constraint on the young lady's affections. If, in my pro. tracted absence, she has formed another attachment, I am ready to withdraw my claims." "I admire your generosity. My aspirations, if success- ful, would probably settle some small family differences. Her having been obliged from circumstances to enter on a career which is beneath her rank-and proper position in # society, but to which she nobly condescended from the highest motives, has only rendered her the more ad- mirable in my eyes; whilst the objections you urged to a public acknowledgment of your engagement, and the impediments you anticipated from yo r family, must naturally have cooled the feelings of ai lady who has a just sense of her. own worth. Had I, from the first, known how matters stood, I should have thought it my duty to interfere and to prevent her engaging her- self to a gentleman who considers himself so much her superior as to stoop from his exalted position to raise her. The daughter of one of the oldest houses in Venice cannot be degraded either by poverty or by any occupa- tion to which she has been obliged to resort to procure comforts for an invalid mother." "Your foreign titles are nothing to me, sir," said Cap- tain Mowbray. "I am of an English noble family, worth fifty Venetian countships." "Allow me to differ from you on this question," pro- ceeded Count Jacopo. "If nobility consists in the number of generations gently born, the Golden Book of Venice records the existence of the family of Michieli centuries page: 454-455[View Page 454-455]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 454-455 454 ISOLINA. before that of Mowbray was ever heard of; if in wealth and vast possessions, our riches, still great, have exceeded yours; if in deeds of worth, we count distinguished sol- diers, statesmen, men of accomplishment and learning; nor do I suppose that England holds a place in history so superior to that of Venice that the mere fact of your being an Englishman entitles you to claim superiority." "The young lady is probably of your opinion, count; but, as her affianced husband, I shall- not be satisfied till. I hear from her own lips that she prefers you to me." "Though she has never yet breathed a word to me of encouragement, I do not deny that I venture to cherish hopes; and if you withdraw your claim, I believe that I may urge my suit with a fair chance of success." "Ybu do? And without a word of encouragement!" said Captain Mowbray, with a bitter laugh. "There may be looks, or even acts, to justify my hopes." - '"What acts, sir?" asked George, advancing fiercely to- wards him. "One act I have heard of, which, if true--" "I do not know to which you may allude," said Count Jacopo, coolly. "But one little token I possess, which she herself placed in my hand, a treasure to me because worn by her. You may, perhaps, recognize it." Saying this, he produced Isolina's lost ring. George took it in his hand, examined it, and quietly returned it. "Enough, count," he said, in a subdued voice, but which ,was not the less bitter. "I care not how you obtained it: go and claim your bride. I shall never see her more." Captain Mowbray re-entered the house, and hurried to his room. He found his servant unpacking his port- manteau, and ordered him to replace everything, and then to procure him a carriage from the nearest village to convey him to the railroad. If none could be found, he would walk, though a distance of twelve miles, but he was determined to catch the first train. He knew not where it might take him, but anywhere rather than re- main where he was. George then went in search of Sir Roger, to acquaint him with his intention. Sir Roger ISOLINA. 455 was grieved to hear it, and asked for an explanation, which Captain Mowbray gave as briefly as possible, Convinced that there was some misunderstanding,\or, as he expressed it, some villainy at work to injure Isolina, Sir Roger begged Captain Mowbray to wait, to see and speak with her; but his remonstrances were all in vain. As he knew, however, that it would take time to bring a carriage from the village, and that it would be impossible for him to start by that evening's train, be left him pacing up and down the library, whilst he went in search of Lady Campbell. He found her with Isolina, and, calling her out of the room, he informed her of the state of matters, and requested her to go to Captain Mowbray. She did not need any persuasion, but hastened to the library, where she found him in violent agitation. "George, you are wrong, very wrong; you are blinded byv passion; you are unjust," Said Lady Campbell to her nephew, after she had listened to his words of half- suppressed rage, and to his repeated declarations that he would never see Isolina more. "Blame me, George, if you blame any one," she continued. "I admitted Count Jacopo to this house, and never supposed his assiduity, his compliments, meant anything beyond the usual chivalric politeness of a foreigner, in which Englishmen are often wanting." "Chivalric politeness, my dear aunt l" said Captain Mowbray, impatiently. "And how comes it, then, that Sir Roger did not foresee the consequences of such chiv- alric politeness'? And if so, why did he not interfere? But he may well have blamed the folly of my unhappy attachment I What more ought I to have expected from a girl who was a public singer, and the daughter of an actor?" "Are you in your senses, George? Remember that you are speaking of Isolina, of the child of my adoption. Isolina is no less Isolina when appearing before the public than when the bright, happy being who won your heart in Florence." "Why did she not consent to marry me when I entreated her, before this foreign count fell in her way? Why did you support her in her absurd scruples?" page: 456-457[View Page 456-457]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 456-457 456 M ISOLINA. "Because her scruples were founded on right principles, which your objections to acknowledging her were not, and I do not now repent the support I then gave her. What hope of happiness could she have from a husband who has so little self-control as you appear to possess?" "Perhaps," said George, after a few minutes' pause,-- "perhaps you do not know all, Aunt Ellinor, all that happened in my absence." "Perhaps not." "She had the folly, the indelicacy,--by what other word can I call it?-to allow Count Jacopo to see one of my letters; and I have this very hour learned that she showed him or let him take from her finger, if she did not give him, the ring I gave her, which she professed to prize so much. I had information of both acts, but I could not believe them, though it Was difficult to mistrust my source." "Is it possible, George, that you could allow yourself to believe any such tale, from whatever source obtained, and not at once turn to Isolina herself? I could not have supposed you so-so--base,-so unworthy of her!" ex- claimed Lady Campbell. "I returned home," continued Captain Mowbray, without heeding this interruption, " to listen to explana- tions, to be reconciled, to be united to her forever, and I find her accepting the homage of another. Did I not see her permit him to raise her hand to his lips? Did I not see the tender expression with which he looked at her? Has he not confessed to me an intimate acquaintance with all that has passed between Isolina and myself? and has he not shown me in triumph the ring I gave her suspended to his neck? Is not that enough to convince me Isolina is not worthy to be my wife?" "The villain 1" said Lady Campbell, involuntarily. "When you are calmer, George, I feel sure all may be explained." "I am calm, Aunt Ellinor. No one can explain it; it is impossible. I shall leave Birkenbrae in an hour. I shall never see her again." "You will, my dear george. - You will not hurt and offend me; you will comply with my request, my desire, ISOLINA. 457 that you remain until at least to-morrow, and see and speak with Isolina?" George shook his head; but Lady Campbell with gentle firmness so urged her suit that he could not refuse. When the carriage he had ordered came to the door, it was- dismissed. The rivals met at dinner,-an uncom- fortable meal to everybody from its long pauses, in spite of the efforts made by Sir Thomas and Lady Fanshaw and Beatrice Hervey, seconded by Sir Roger. Isolina did not appear that evening, and the next morning she was still too much exhausted for an interview with her lover. It was not till the following afternoon that Lady Campbell led Captain Mowbray to her private sitting- room, where they found her reclining on a sofa. But she raised herself as they entered, and. as instantly covered her face with both hands. "Look up, Isolina, my child," said 'Lady Campbell, tenderly. "You have done nothing of which to be ashamed. If there is any one who ought to blush, it is your doubting, suspicious lover. I leave you to tell your own story, to answer the charges he may make against you. Speak frankly, fearlessly. Be true to yourself, and I do not think so ill of George as not to believe he will confess that he has wronged you." As she was leaving the room, she beckoned to Captain Mowbray, and added, in a low voice, "Remember what I have told you: do not let her fatigue herself; she is not well. The agitation she has undergone has nearly undone all the improvement of this last summer." George took Isolina's small hand in his and knelt beside her. He had entered the room resolved to play the part of accuser and judge in his own cause; but the sight of the feeble girl he had already Condemned without a hearing, and who looked more like a victim than a criminal, soft- ened his heart and restored the lover. "Can you forgive me, George?" she said, gently. "In- deed, if you think I ever really loved any one but you, you wronged me, though I confess that appearances are against me." "This Count Jacopo,-by 'what right--" began George, dropping her hand. 'us 39 page: 458-459[View Page 458-459]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 458-459 458 ISOLINA. "He is my cousin." "But his was more the homage of a lover than a cousin, Isolina." "I do not deny that he may have wished me to regard him as such, and that his kind interest in my welfare, his unceasing thought and attentions for my poor mother in her last days, and for myself, a poor girl with nothing to offer him, have made me regard him as more than a common acquaintance, until " "Until you forgot what you owed me, your promised -husband!" "No, I did not forget; but you have tried me severely, George. It is now months since I received one of your affectionate letters, which used to support me under any trial,-months. since you cared to sympathize with my joys or sorrows, except a few words after I lost my mother. In place of which, you reproached me with some wrong I had unconsciously committed against you, and hurt me by suspicions which I knew to be groundless. If I was grateful for the soothing kindness of one who claimed the intimacy of a relation, am I to be accused of weaknes. and inconstancy?" "Should I have blamed you, Isolina, only for grati- tude and for treating your cousin as a friend? Never. I am not a jealous fool. But I had reason to doubt your fidelity, surrounded, as you were, by temptations; and what I myself witnessed confirmed those doubts." "And what made you first doubt me, George? You promised to tell me." "A letter," he replied, "I received from one whose word was sufficient for me, informing me that, in spite of warnings, you were encouraging attentions from another; that you were already on terms of such intimacy with him as to have acquainted him with the contents of one of my letters; and that, to crown all, you had listened to his entreaties for the little ring I gave you,-ah I I see you blush,-and that, though you had ref d his request at first, you could not resist his import ities, and had allowed him to take that which you dare not give." "I have a right to demand the name of the person who thus maligned me," said Isolina, indignant. I' A'- ' X I ISOLLrA. 459 "The letter was sent me in confidence; but it matters little. I have seen and heard enough in the last few hours. It was, indeed, anonymous; but I could easily guess the author, and the reason why her name was suppressed." "It was, then, a lady who wrote to you V? "She wrote," continued Captain Mowbray, without heeding Isolina's observation, "to urge me to warn you of your danger in time. Every word breathed the most sincere and tender friendship for you, but also a friendly interest in me, which made her anxious lest a marriage against which so many objections already existed in my family, and to one like yourself whose attachment to me was so easily shaken, could add to the happiness of either of us." "And is there a being on earth who would have dared to write such a letter to me and I have believed it?" exclaimed Isolina. "Heaven knows I never had a con- cealment from you until your cold letters alarmed me, when, fearing your resentment, I did not confess the loss of one which I have never since recovered, and of my ring, which I missed from my dressing-table, and which I believed had been stolen by a servant who was after- wards dismissed." "I have this day seen the ring in the possession of another." Of whom?-of Count Jacopo?" "You guess well," said Captain Mowbray, bitterly. "How could he have got it?" said Isolina, half solilo- quizing. "It is impossible; you are mistaken. Could you suppose me capable of--" "You can answer that best. You have owned your increasing attachment for-your cousin." "I have told you the whole truth, not supposing..it possible that you could be so ungenerous as to take ad- vantage of my words, when if, for a time, your own con- duct made me waver in my judgment rather than my heart, and if, under your unkindness, I was grateful for the kindness of another,--a gratitude far, far removed from love,-whose fault was it? Had you been open with me, I might have been hurt; but my every thought page: 460-461[View Page 460-461]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 460-461 "O IOLINA. would have been told you as before, and I would have owned the trifling fault of carelessness, and been forgiven. If you have no greater confidence in me, it is best-yes, though my heart were to break-it is best to give up our engagement." "Isolina, is this possible? Can you suppose for a moment that I would give you up? If you loved me with half the fervor, the devotion I have felt for you--" She looked up in her lover's fate with that honest, truthful- expression which made him ashamed of his doubts. "George, I always loved you since I was a mere child; but then it seemed so impossible that you could love me, as impossible as it now seems that you should not love me. I was flattered when you confided to me your affection for Alice. I could hardly feel jealous of her, child as I then was; and to be so honored by you made me happy. Other days brought other thoughts. I had to work' to be busy; but I shall never forget that evening when I met you at Lady Caroline Hervey's, and the morning walk, which, though I knew it was not quite right, and though afterwards it brought me into trouble, was such a bright gleam of happiness in my shady existence. I treasured in my heart every word you then spoke, and I was glad to think Alice was mar- ried. But there was a long interval; and if you could have known the weary, lonely, tiresome life I led, the mortification and pain I endured from your mother, too, whom I really loved, you would understand how it came that I fancied myself attached to Mr. Fanshaw, and how very miserable I was when I found I had been deceived by him." "You will make yourself ill, dearest," said George, alarmed at her excitement. And, bending over her, he took her hand tenderly. "Nol no I must speak, George. I must convince you that I have never really loved any one but you, that I love you still, and ever shall, in spite of what I confess was wrong of me even to suffer yesterday. Lady Camp- bell has told you of our meeting with Count Michieli- my grandfather-in Milan, and his proposals to my mother and myself, which, even had they been such con- ISOLINA. 461 ditions as we could have accepted, we must have refused, as neither of us could have borne to receive favors from one who caused such misery to my father." "Like yourself, my Isolina. You have always acted wisely and well." "Not always wisely," said Isolina, smiling; "at least you have not thought so. But this was-y mother's doing; and as she felt poverty and our humble position more than I did, the temptation to accept Count Michieli's offer was greater; but she loved and honored my father and cherished his memory, as I do." "And what followed " asked Captain Mowbray, im- patiently. "I soon afterwards went as governess to the Duchess of Pedantmere. You know my history from that time. As to my cousin, I saw him first in a carriage with your mother; and when my mother and I spent a few days in his company at the Pines, I did not then know him to be my cousin, and I did not like him. I met him again from time to time, but I never was intimate with him untilthe weeks we passed at Forestmere, when I found him agreeable; and, before we parted, I felt I had gained a friend. Was that wrong, George? How he obtained that ring I cannot imagine; but are you sure the ring you saw was mine?" "He wore it attached to a ribbon round his neck, and he took it off and bade me examine it. It was the ring I gave you, Isolina." "He must have persuaded one of the servants to steal it for him, then. But why should he desire to marry me? I am no great prize. His uncle has made him his heir; I have refused the conditions by which I might have recovered my fortune as Count Michieli's granddaughter; and as for real attachment to me, in spite of the wo rds which have lately fallen from him, I do not even believe in it. Tell me, George, who do you suppose accused me of inconstancy in that letter? I have a right to know." "Yes, Isolina, you have. I believe-Alice." "Alice!" exclaimed Isolina, with a merry laugh; "never I am assured that Alice never could, would, or did write so of me to you, as that you speak truth." 39* O . .' . page: 462-463[View Page 462-463]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 462-463 "2 ISOLINA. a Here is the letter," said Captain Mowbray, laying it before her. "Do you now recognize the,hand?" "How strange! It is Alice's and it is not Alice's writing,-that is, it resembles, yet is certainly not, her writing. Nothing, however, would persuade me she could be guilty of an underhand proceeding, or put such words to paper, to injure a friend." "Nor me. Isolina, you make me feel ashamed of myself, ashamed that I should have thought this of Alice, still more ashamed to have wronged you." "Then we will wait to have all explained, as I am sure it will be in time," said Isolina. 1"One thing I do know," continued George: " the letter was written with the intention of separating us, and it has united us more firmly than ever. Rest now, my beloved Isolina, and rest with the assurance that I rely only on your forgiveness for my future happiness." The conversation did not last many more minutes, for George saw Isolina was fatigued, and he was reminded by her faintness of his promise to Lady Campbell. Call- ing Rebecca, he bade her good-night, leaving her in the enjoyment of a peaceful happiness she had not felt for many months. -: CHAPTER XLVII. - "Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude." SHAKSPEARE. THE long corridor into which George Mowbray entered, after leaving Isolina, had a dismal appearance, when lighted as usual, with only one lamp at the farther end. On its walls, facing the windows, hung full-length por- traits of Sir Roger Campbell's ancestors, represented in various costumes, from the Roman tunic, in which it had . i ISOLINA. 463 pleased a painter bf the last century to attire a chieftain of the times of Robert the Bruce; down to the Highland kilt worn by the father of the present baronet twice in the course of his life: once at a banquet given on his comning of age, and again when, at fiftyv-five, the portrait in question was taken. Besides these pictures, there were a-few rusty spears, old guns, and bucklers tastefully arranged, with deers' heads, stuffed eagles, hawks, and other birds of prey. Just below the windows of the corridor a terrace had been cut along the top of the wooded bank which rose abruptly from the river. From thence there was a mag- nificent view of mountain and plain beyond, which seemed- almost more extensive than the reality, when seen by the soft. light of the moon. Captain Mowbray was walking leisurely down this corridor, lost in his own reflections, when he perceived the figure of a woman emerge from one of the deep re- cesses of the windows, where she had been concealed. As she approached him, he saw that she was one of the ser- vants, and as he supposed she was going to Isolina, he made room for her to pass, and was moving on, when she turned hastily round and planted herself directly in his way. "I beg your pardon, sir," said the soft, clear voice of Mrs. Villiers. "Might I ask a few words with you?" "Certainly. But first I should be glad to know who you are." "My name is Villiers, sir; Mrs. Villiers. I am Lady Fanshaw's maid, and I was formerly maid to her Grace the Duchess of Pedantmere. You may, perhaps, remem- ber to have seen me in Florence, sir?" "I have not the least recollection of you, I am sorry to say. But, as I am rather in a hurry, perhaps .you would be so good as to tell me at once what it is you want with me?" "You have just been with Miss Isolina, sir, if I may be so bold?" "Yes; what of that?" said Captain Mowbray, quickly. "There is no one listening, is there?" said Mrs. Vil- liers, looking round in some alarm, as a slight noise page: 464-465[View Page 464-465]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 464-465 "4 ISOLINA i startled her. But it came from without, and might have been caused by the branches of a tree against the window. "What a wind there is to-night, to be sure!" she con. tinued. "This is such a ghostlike place, sir, I am quite afraid to be alone after dark."' "You are not alone now, at any rate; and if you were, I hope you have not anything u"pr-your conscience to frighten you." "But that is just it, sir." - "I can't stay here all night, however, my good woman, to act your father confessor. Have you any message from your mistress?-or-or have you anything to say of Miss Isolina?"His voice faltered, for his consciencee smote him for the doubt which her mysterious words had again awakened. "It is about Miss Isolina that I wished to say some- thing, sir.": "Then you can return with me to her." "No, sir, I must speak to you alone. I don't want to agitate her." "True; but speak on, then," continued George, grow. ing every instant more impatient. "That letter----" began Mrs. Villiers. "What letter?" "The letter you received, sir, without a signature. It was I who wrote it." "You I and for what purpose? Who desired you? and what should you know about my affairs?" "Don't, now-don't, please, be angry, sir. I did it, of course, under orders." "Whose orders? Your mistress's I It is not possible!" The thought that Alice might still love him, and that she was unwilling to resign him to another, flattered his vanity; and, as it flashed across his mind, he, for an instant, felt more pleasure than pain at the imputation on her virtue. "Her Grace I Oh, goodness, sir, no I It was Lady Em- meline." "Lady Emmelinel" exclained George, in disgust. What on earth had she to do with me or with Isolina?" "It was all jealousy, sir. If you have forgotten the IS O L I X.1. 465 time you were so fond of her, her ladyship has not, and she couldn't bear the thougrht of your marryincg another. One of the laborers about the place picked up a letter of yours, sir, to Miss Camelli, and Lady Emmeline meeting me just as I was carrying it to Miss Camelli, she asked where I was going, and. taking the letter from me, and seeing your name, she carried it away with her. There was a great fuss made about the loss of this letter, I know, but I had given my promise not to say a word about it. I be- lieve my lady showed it to the count, and I heard her say something about its being very improper of Miss Camelli to correspond with you unknown to my lord and my lady. After the count left, lit was Lady Emmeline who set me upon stealing Miss Camelli's ring, for a sort of a jest they had had about it. The count was desperately in love with Miss Camelli, and Lady Emmeline was sorry for him, as was only natural, she being in the same predica- ment." * "What next? Cannot you get on with your story?" said Captain Mowbray, who began to fear this long in- terview with Mrs. Villiers would never end. "I would not trouble you, sir, but that I heard the trouble poor Miss Isolina is in from the count. As I was going to say, Lady Emmeline then employed me to write the letter to you secretly; and as I had learned to imitate her Grace's handwriting, I thought that you-would less suspect any one else if I wrote it like her; and now that I have made a clean breast of it---"At this moment Villiers gave a violent shriek, and threw herself into Cap- tain Mowbray's arms, clinging to him for protection. His first-idea was that the woman had gone mad; but, as he turned in the direction in which she was looking with eyes of terror, he distinctly saw a face looking at them through the lower panes of the window. The light of the passage-lamp fell on the thin features, ghastly com- plexion, and long gray hair of an old man peering into the room. Captain Mowbray had just time to distinguish thus much, when the face withdrew, and when an excla- mation of horror, almost as loud if not so piercing as that of Mrs. Villiers, attracted his attention to the other end of the corridor, where he beheld Count Jacopo leaning. U* page: 466-467[View Page 466-467]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 466-467 "6 ISOLINA. against the wall for support. Before George could disen- gage himself from Mrs. Villiers and hasten to him, the count had recovered his self-possession sufficiently to apol- ogize for his nervous alarm. He had come to the corridor on hearing Mrs. Villiers shriek, and as that lady was now in hysterics, he assisted Captain Mowbray to convey her to the servants' apartments before they went in search of Sir Roger, to acquaint him with the suspicious circum- stance of a man prowling about the house. A gang of ill- looking fellows were known to have been fori some time past in the neighborhood, and various petty depredations had taken place. Sir Roger therefore concluded this was one of them sent to inspect the premises, and he asked the gentlemen among his guests to accompany him and his servants on the search. Count Jacopo alone excused himself, on the plea of a coid and being afraid of exposure to the night air, which confirmed Captain Mowbray in his prejudice concerning Italian vis inerti. Lady Campbell, Lady Fanshaw, and Beatrice Hervey collected together in the drawing-room, and, sitting over the fire, they enjoyed the pleasure of increasing one another's apprehensions by reciprocal tales of robberies, house-breaking, and murders. Count Jacopo found them still absorbed in this occupation when, half an hour after the other gentlemen had set out, he stole softly into the room. He looked vainly round for ,Isolina, whom he hoped to find there, as she had left her room soon after she heard Mrs. Villiers shriek, and had gone in search of Lady Campbell; but Lady Campbell had sent her to the sofa in the adjoining library, and desired her own maid to remain beside her. The maid was, however, eager to hear Mrs. Villiers's story, and gladly accepted Isolina's permission to leave her. Count Jacopo, therefore, came upon her unexpectedly. "Pardon my intrusion," he began. t I have been vainly seeking an opportunity to say a few words to you." "I othought you were with the other gentlemen," said Isolina, coldly. "I must, however, tell you that I can- not listen to any renewal of our late conversation." "But you must hear me, my dear cousin," he said, in a I . I ISOLINA. 461 tone which half frightened her. And, seating himself beside her, he began in so loW a voice as to make it im- possible that their conversation should be overheard in the next room. "You do not know how the happiness of my life, how my very existence, depends on you." Iso- lina did not reply, but appeared to wait for hilm to pro- ceed. "You are aware," he continued, "how your grand- father, my uncle, desired our union. I rejected the idea when he first mentioned it, because I then had hardly ever seen you. But now, when I lovie you more than man ever loved woman,'when I am ready tot lay down my life to serve you, now that we have had time and opportunity to know one another, and you have had proof of my devotion, and how I honor and esteem you, and that you have for weeks allowed that intimacy which has given me leave to hope that you only waited to be released from an engagement which has long been a burden upon you, and which alone has prevented the full avowal of my love, is it possible that this very Cap- ' tainMowbray, who has acted a tyrant's part rather than a lover's, who has been ashamed to own you to his rela- tions, who can be happy when absent from you for months, whilst I can hardly tear myself away from you for a single day, he who met you with such coldness only) yesterday, who despised your poverty and supposed humble birth, can already have so regained your affec- tions that you have restored him to favor and bid me banish all hope?" ( "Count Jacopo, I must beg-I feel exhausted-I am sorry if I gave you cause to mistake my acceptance of you as a relation for a warmer sentiment. Your friend- ship I indeed prized; but what I have just been told of you must make me decline even this. My ring, the\ring you once asked to borrow from me, and which I refsed, Captain Mowbray tells me is in your possession. ,tow you obtained it I cannot imagine; but I now requ't you to return it to me." "Never, Isolina How I obtained it I alone know. There are many ways open to him who truly loves, as I do. Could I resign the possession of that which I value above rubies? It is enough for me that it has once been page: 468-469[View Page 468-469]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 468-469 "8 ISOLIN.4. worn by you." Saying which, he drew it out and kissed it passionately. "Count Jacopo, I entreat you to tell me how you obtained it." "The way matters little; all I desire is the hand of the fair owner. Captain Mowbray will never marryyou; or, if he does, you will be exposed to contempt from his relations, who will attach no value to the nobility of your foreign origin. A man who does not honor his wife will soon cease to love her. If he thinks of marrying you, it is because he expects a fortune with you, for he knows0 that your grandfather has disinherited me and settled all his possessions on you; but he does not know that the deed was executed whilst he was in unsound mind, that the physicians have proved this to be the case, that Count Michieli has been confined in a mad-house, and that you are penniless, whilst I am the sole possessor of his wealth. All that I possess, or ever shall possess, -I lay at your feet, Isolina, for my affection is beyond-riches and power and all the vain allurements of the world. Tell me pnly what I can do to persuade you to believe,-to trust in me." "Count Jacopo, I must beg -you will leave me, or I must go. That apparition at the window seems to have deprived you of your senses." "That was no apparition, Isolina: it was your grand- father." "My grandfather here I Impossible I You tell me he is mad and confined in a mad-house, and now you say he is here. I must leave you. Lady Campbell is in the next room, and " -- "And you must hear me out, or " "Give me my ring, Count Jacopo, and let me go. I tell you that I have promised to marry aptain Mow- bray, that our engagement will shortly be announced, and that, even had this not been the case, I never could have accepted you. Give me my ring, Count Jacopo. You have no rightto refuse me--" She bad risen from the sofa, and stood erect near thbo table, her eyes flashing, her delicate nostrils expanded, and lips apart from suppressed passion. Count Jacopo laid the ring on the table. ISOLINA. - 469 "Take it," he said, "my fair cousin. The day may come when you mav repent having made an enemy of one who would have been your friend. If, as I believe, my uncle is somewhere in or near this house, I must see him secured, and convey him back to Venice. He may impose on Sir Roger, for madmen are cunning; but I have means by which to convince him of the unsound state of Count Michieli's mind. I shall return with him, and I shall never see you more. May Captain Mowbray prove a less exacting husband than lover I Allow me to assist you," he added, as he saw her attempt, with tottering steps, to leave the room. She was obliged to accept his support to the door, but dropped his arm as Beatrice Hervey sprang forward to offer hers, and Count Jacopo withdrew before he had been discovered. He was leaving the library by a door which led through the anteroom to the hall, when his uncle met him face to face. For an instant he was paralyzed with terror, as the eyes of Count Michieli glared on him with rage; the next moment, the recollection that if his uncle were seen he would be undone, and that no time was to be lost, impelled him to push him backwards with violence. Count Michieli fell to the ground, and his nephew sprang upon him; there was a struggle of a few seconds, and as Count Jacopo relaxed his hold, he was alarmed at the stillness which followed. Groping his way back for a light, he returned to examine his uncle's apparently life- less form, and, horror-stricken, not daring to call for aid, he carefully locked the library door, and hurried out of the anteroom. Turning the key on that door likewise, he stole from the house and made his escape, just as he heard the voices of Sir Roger and his friends returning from their fruitless search. Isolina and Lady Campbell. had retired to their rooms when the gentlemen arrived to give an account of their adventures. Captain Mowbray entertained Beatrice by relating Count Priuli's panic in the corridor, and he de- clared he did not know whose superstitious fears were greatest, those of Villiers or those of the count. All present agreed that he had retreated to his room to avoid comments on his want of valor. 40 page: 470-471[View Page 470-471]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 470-471 470 v ISOLINA. That night Elgiva paid Beatrice a visit in her room, and the sisters fell into a long talk, forgetful of the hours. Beatrice could not help observing that Elgiva had lost her lively, careless spirits ever since her arrival at Birk- enbrae. As Sir Thomas Fanshaw had fixed the following day for their departure, she was resolved to know the truth that lay at the bottom of her sister's heart before they separated. "Elgiva," she began, " there is something the matter with you. You are not like yourself. You have some anxiety, some care; which you had not formerly." l "Nonsense, Beatrice I I'm a married woman, -that's all." - "I am sure Tom is the best of husbands, if letting you have your own way is a proof of it." "What can you know about husbands?" "Well, I can imagine what sort of tyrants they may be, and, thank Heaven, I can still enjoy single blessed- ness. But tell me, Elgiva, is Tom jealous? I must say you have sometimes given him cause by your flirtations with Count, Jacopo." "Jealous, my dear Beatrice! What an ideal And as for Count Jacopo, I hate him. I wish I had never seen him." "I thought he was such a favorite of yours." "He was,-that is, I once liked him. But oh, Beatrice, if I could only be sure that you would not betray me i" "That you may. I give you my word to keep your secret; only be frank with me." "Fanshaw hasn't an idea of what I have been doing. He knows, of course, that I have debts; but the last time I was at Newmarket, Count Jacopo and two of his friends led me on-it was all their fault-till I laid bets to an amount Fanshaw's whole property couldn't pay. What I am to do I don't know; and I have been trving to have a few words with him alone,-I mean Count Jacopo; but he is so taken up with Isolina, I never have been able. I am in the most horrible fright lest Fan- shaw should discover what I have done. What's that, Beatrice?" "What? I hear nothing." ISOLI{NA. 471 "A groan!" Nonsense, Elgiva I you are so excited, you imagine allything." "No!--there again i"This time Beatrice heard a dis- tinct- moaning sound. Both rose from their chairs by the fire, and softly opened the door of the room. A figure in white stood before them, whom the next minute both recognized as Mrs. Villiers. "Oh, my lady I what can it be? I am all in a tremble!" said the unfortunate Abigail. "This is the most horridest ghostly place I ever was in in the course of my life." "Do be silent, Villiers, and listen," said Elgiva. The groans were now quite audible, and proceeded, as they thought, from the library. All three hurried to Lady Campbell's dressing-room, but she'was not there. They found her with Isolina, who had been seized with a fresh attack of illness from the shock and agitation of the pre- ceding day. Beatrice offered to remain beside her, whilst Lady -Campbell, without alarming her patient, left the room with Elgiva and Mrs. Villiers in search of Sir Roger. As the two last stood at the head of the stairs, all was again silent, only occasionally interrupted by Isolina's cough. "I am positive we heard groaning," said Elgiva, as her husband and Sir Roger joined them. "Hark there it is again." "Bring up the servants, Ellinor," said Sir Roger to Lady Campbell, as he .descended towards the room whence the sounds proceeded. The door was, however, locked, and no key to be found. With the assistance of Captain Mowbray, Sir Thomas Fan- shaw, and the servants, the door was forced open, and, as they entered the anteroom, they discovered the figure of an old man, still unconscious, stretched on the floor, whom Lady Campbell instantly recognized as Count Michieli. Sir Roger desired that Count Jacopo should be called, but the servant returned to say that his room was empty, and the old man was accordingly carried thither, where restoratives were administered, until a physician could be brought. It was already morning before Count Michieli's senses returned, and he gradually became con- page: 472-473[View Page 472-473]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 472-473 472 ISOLN A. scious that he was in a strange place. He raised himself on his elbow, and, perceiving Sir Roger, seemed gradually to recover his recollection of what had occurred. Sinking back on his pillow, and beckoning to his host, he whis- pered, in Italian, "Is he here?" "Who, sir?" asked Sir Roger. "My nephew Jacopo who attempted my life." "Count, Priuli left my house yesterday evening." "He says I am mad," proceeded Count Michieli; "and he has wellnigh driven me so. My son, my Enrico, was a brother to him, and he worked his ruin'; and now he would rob his innocent child of her inheritance. But I have discovered his ingratitude, his treachery, and I shall have my revenge." After a few minutes' pause, be resumed, in a gentler tone, and in English, "I am sorry, Sir Roger, to halve intruded upon you and your amiable lady. I fear I have caused much disturbance." Sir Roger tried to reassure him, and sald something of an accident. N "No accident, sir. I have been in prison,-arrested on false information lodged against me by my own nephew; I have innocently caused the ruin of my best friends; I have myself been betrayed, and I have betrayed others; my honor is lost, and I am looked upon as an informer." "You must rest here; and when you have recovered," said Sir Roger, "we may consider what' can be done.- All will be, no doubt, arranged; but we must first see you well." "There is no time to be lost," said Count Michieli, hurriedly. "It is almost too late now. I was preparing to make him an outcast, and to settle all I possessed on my granddaughter, when Jacopo arriv'ed, unknown to me, in Venice. He had me seized in my own palace, and placed under restraint as a lunatic.- It is a month ago that I made my escape, assisted by a friend who had discovered the author of my misery. I have tracked him here, and have been on the watch for an oppor- tunity to expose his real character; but I feared to encounter him, lest he should persuade you I was mad, and force me to return whence I came. I entered your house unperceived, and unexpectedly met him face to ISOLINA. 473 face. He sprang on me like a tiger. I fell backwards, and I remember nothing-more. I am old, but there is more life in me than he thinks, and I shall yet live to see my revenge." CHAPTER XLVIII. "All things that we love and cherish, Like ourselves, must fade,and perish: Such is our rude mortal lot,-- Love itself would, did they not." SHELLEY, COUNT MCHELI lingered a few weeks, but never rose from his bed, and the remains of the last of a long line of Venetian nobles were carried to a humble grave in v the churchyard of the little village of Birkenbrae, where he had requested that his body might be laid. Isolina was unable to follow the funeral, for the disease of the lungs, which Lady Campbell had hoped cured, again showed symptoms which caused anxiety to her friends; therefore, though the Fanshaws had long since taken their departure, Beatrice Hervey had requested to be allowed to remain and share the attendance on the invalid. The physician advised removing Isolina again to Bute; but, after three weeks of uncomfortable lodging in the only apartment at that time to be procured, Lady Camp- bell resolved to return with her to Birkenbrae, and both she and Beatrice flattered themselves that they saw so decided an improvement that, with common precaution, Isolina might pass the rest of the winter at Birkenbrae, and ultimately, they hoped, recover her health. She herself was full of hope and of that enjoyment of life which, in consumption, is so apt to deceive the most watchful friends. ' Meantime, George Mowbray had acquainted his parents with his long attachment and his resolution to marry Isolina. The only obstacles to their union in Lady Elton's eyes hadl been removed by her discovery of our heroine's birth and fortune. She had loved her when a 40* page: 474-475[View Page 474-475]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 474-475 474 ISOLINA. child, though she had closed her heart when she thought of her as the wife of either of her sons. Isolina might be beautiful, modest, accomplished, unexceptionable in every respect,-she might be all Lady Elton could desire in a daughter-in-law, but the child of an Italian actor and of an attorney's daughter was no match for the son of an earl. Lady Elton, indeed, had aimed at the grand- daughter of a stocking-weaver, whose mother was more vulgar than Mrs. Camelli; but Mrs. Herbert was accepted in fashionable circles, and Alice was an heiress, whilst Isolina was a governess. Lady Elton now sincerely repented her past conduct, and she wrote to Isolina a letter full of affection. She offered to come down to Scotland if her future daughter- in-law's health would prevent her at this season paying them a visit at the Pines. Lady Campbell, however, dreaded the agitation such a meeting might occasion, and she wrote entreating Lady Elton to postpone her visit; but Lady Elton was not to be deterred from any- thing on which she 'had set her heart. She wished to see, to speak with Isolina; and accordingly, in spite of this letter, the peace of the quiet mansion of Birkenbrae was one afternoon disturbed by a traveling-carriage driving up the approach. Lady Campbell was out walking, and Beatrice Hervey was reading aloud to Isolina, who was busy at her embroidery-frame, when the door was flung open and Lord and Lady Elton entered the room. Lady Elton advanced with open arms to Isolina, who had started to her feet, but instantly became so deadly pale that Beatrice thought she would have fainted. Lady Elton, shocked at her delicate appearance, clasped her silently in her arms, whilst Lord Elton, who had never varied in his kindness, gently placed her on the sofa, declaring that this cold northern atmosphere could not agree with their little Italian girl, and that he must have her again at the Pines to restore her roses. Sir Roger and Captain Mowbray, entering, gave a warm welcome to the unexpected guests, and, when Lady Campbell joined them, the talking, questions and answers, and cheerful laughter, witl all the noise and excitement of a fresh arrival, were at their height. Isolina sat with flushed ISOLINA. 475 cheeks, which had succeeded the pallor caused by the first start, and with tearful eyes; and Lady Campbell, alarmed, ordered her instantly to her room, in spite of George's entreaties that she might remain. The visit from the Eltons lasted a fortnight, during which time Lady Elton's old love for Isolina, now that she was unrestrained by motives of expediency or self- interest, revived, and even increased, till it became the fondest wish of her heart to see the accomplishment of that marriage she would formerly have done her utmost to prevent. As Lord and Lady Elton bade Isolina a cheerful good-by, they both spoke of the time proposed for the wedding as not distant, and promised to return for the occasion. The six months of mourning for Isolina's grandfather were over, and spring had returned; but it was a Scotch spring, and the cold winds of March nipped the first blossoms. Isolina caught a fresh cold, and her cough returned with more than former violence. Although it gave way to medical treatment and she appeared better, Lady Campbell could not close her eyes to the truth that her adopted child was soon to leave her forever in this world. Beatrice Hervey had been a few weeks at home, and on her return to Birkenbrae she could hardly restrain her tears at the rapid change which had taken place. George came and went, never able to remain long absent from Isolina, yet restlessly impatient of the pain caused him by the sound of her cough and the sight of her thin, delicate form; but he resolutely refused to see, or, at any rate, to acknowledge, that the being he loved beyond all else on earth was dying. She was so bright, so eager to be well, and Captain Mowbray, like his mother, had a will which could not brook disappointment or contradiction, and he therefore would not-even anticipate the possibility of failure to his wishes. The sufferings caused by the illness, and by increasing weakness, were patiently borne by Isolina; but it was long before even she resigned hope, still longer before she could summon courage to speak to George of separation. She could not bear to see him look miserable, but still less to lose sight of him. The thoughtfulness, the unwearied page: 476-477[View Page 476-477]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 476-477 \ 476 ISOLINA. devotion, the unselfish, cheerful kindness of Beatrice Hervev relieved Lady Campbell from many duties which the heaviness athher heart made difficult for her to fulfill, and supported the spirits of all. For the time, Beatrice had found her work, and she was happy in being able to be of use, if it was only in walking or conversing with Sir Roger, and thus allowing Lady Campbell to wait on Isolina. There was one person for whom Isolina felt some anxiety as she became aware of her approaching end, and perhaps the only person who had seen the secret tears which the poor invalid could not always restrain, and which betrayed how hard she felt the parting from life and those she loved. That person was Rebecca. Isolina knew that Rebecca would be provided for, but she could not bear to think of the solitude of her remaining days. Often when Lady Campbell or Beatrice or even George wanted to hand her something, she would ask Rebecca, for she knew that it gave her old servant pleasure to wait on her. Rebecca would sit behind her mistress's sofa, knitting away at her everlasting stocking; but the work would not unfrequently lie unheeded in her lap, whilst her eyes were fixed upon Isolina. One morning her mistress turned suddenly to her, say- ing, "Rebecca, will you take care of my little Lupo?" "La, miss dear, there's nothing the matter with the dog," Rebecca replied, purposely misunderstanding her. "I do not- mean now. I mean when I am gone," pur- sued Isolina; but Rebecca turned away her head, and Isolina's own lips quivered, as she looked at Captain Mowbray, who was on her other side. "I wish I did not so desire to live, George," she continued: "I feel I could be so happy if we were never to part." She desired to speak of death to him; but he interrupted her, bidding her have courage and she would soon be well. Isolina made a faint effort to smile; both were silent, and he rose and left the room. A few days after this, she began to sink so rapidly that her friends never left her; she could not lie down; but, propped up with pillows, she was placed one afternoon by her own desire in an arm-chair near the window, from ISOLINA. 4" whence she could see the sun setting behind the moun- tains. Beatrice Hervey sat on a stool at her feet, with one of Isolina's hands in hers, watching every expression in that pale face. She was thinking of past days, and how little she could have supposed, when she first saw her, that her sister's governess would one day be the friend 4 to show her the road to happiness. Rebecca supported the pillows on one side, as Lady Campbell had drawn her chair a little back, that Isolina might not see the tears which she could not repress. The child she had taken to her heart, whom she had labored for, and the thought of whom, present or absent, had ever been associated -with all her hopes of happiness in life, was leaving her. Every second marked by the clock seemed to her a knell, at Iso- lina's life was fast ebbing away. A gentle knock at the door was followed by the entrance of George Mowbray. "I am not asleep, George," said Isolina, in a low, feeble voice, as he approached her softly. "I have been wishing to see you. Come near me; I want to speak to you." He knelt beside her. "I am going, George," she continued, "but I have no pain now,-except the thought of your sorrow, and of hers." And she raised her large, lustrous eyes to Lady Campbell's face. "You know, George, how she has been to me the best, the truest of mothers, and that in every trial of life it was her courage, her love, which supported me,-which made me happy. And, George, if I may never call you husband, I have loved you as a wife. You will wear this ring now,"-she gave him that he once gave her: " it is a pledge that we have been faithful to each other; and if ever you should be made happy by a wife, give her that ring, and tell her-to talk with you sometimes of Isolina." As she spoke thus, she looked at Beatrice, whose face was buried on her lap, as she wept over the hand she held in hers. The effort of speaking had been too much for the invalid. Isolina, for a moment, seemed to gaze at the last rays of the sun, but her eyes were already dim, and, as she sank back on her pillow, the light shed a glory on her dying face. As they carried her to her bed, the effort she had made produced the rupture of another blood- vessel. The morning broke on the still, pale face, with page: 478-479[View Page 478-479]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 478-479 4'8 ISOLINA. the dark lashes resting on her cheeks, but the light of her eyes had fled forever. George Mowbray's grief was deep as well as passion- ate, and his first consolation was a letter of sorrow and sympathy from Alice. The morning after the funeral, he left Birkenbrae, accompanied by Mr. Bryant, who had come north, at Lady Campbell's request, to perform the last ceremony. Beatrice returned home, and Lady Camp- bell was not sorry to be left alone with her husband. Their afternoon's walk always ended by the narrow grave covered with heather and with flowers from the garden of Birkenbrae, and where a plain stone recorded that here lay "Isolina, of Venetian and English parent- age, the adopted child of Sir Roger and Lady Campbell, whose bright spirit had risen above the trials of life to spread sunshine on her path, and who had not left her earthly home dark and desolate, for her memory still remained, though she had departed." Isolina's so-much-coveted wealth had at last fallen to her cousin, Count Jacopo Priuli. He resided in his splendid palace at Venice, one room of which he kept locked, and never entered. As be grew older, it is said that his mind became weakened, and, drawn by an irre- sistible impulse to the door of that secret chamber, he would sit listening to fancied conversations between the father and son, until he could listen no longer, but fled, uttering wild and incoherent language. At length he was removed by his friends to. the same asylum where he had once placed his uncle; and there he ended his miserable days. When Sir Thomas Fanshaw discovered the debts of honor which his wife's follies had incurred, he was obliged to let his property and live abroad. They occasionally revisited England, residing a few weeks at a time with Elgiva's relations. The forbearance he displayed towards his guilty wife humbled her more than any reproaches;- and if their lives were not materially altered, and if both retained, their taste for frivolous society,- their attachment to each other was strengthened, and Elgiva's expenses never again exceeded the means allowed her by her husband and her father. ISOLINA. 479 'A year had passed since Isolina's death, and Lady Campbell was one evening tending the flowers on her grave, when the gate of the churchyard was pushed open, and a lady with two little girls entered. Each child had a wreath, which she placed at the head and feet, and, as the lady knelt beside the mound of earth, Ellinor saw that it was Alice. After the first greeting had been spoken, Alice said, ( This day George Mowbray is united to Beatrice Her- vey. She will be a good wife to him; and their marriage must be happy, since it was consecrated by an angel be- fore she departed for her brighter home." The drama of a life has been played out, and Isolina has ended her short part on the stage where we have each a character to sustain. How far happier would it be if the fictitious honors of family and wealth were set at their true value, and did not take the place of real greatness and virtue I But folly and pride too often lead us to esteem even, that "common which God hath cleansed." THE END. page: 480-481 (Advertisement) [View Page 480-481 (Advertisement) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 480-481 (Advertisement) POPULAR WORKS PUBLISHED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., PHLADELPHA. 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The Disowned.... *'...2 vols. Paul Clifford ....... ....2 vols. Godolphin.. ....*...... * voL Ernest Maltravers ....... vols. Alice .............. 2 vols Night and Morning.,.....2 vols. Lucretia ......... .....2 tols. A Strange Story ........z2 vols. "This edition is in every way a desirable o(e for libraries: the volumes are of con- venient size, the type large, the paper of a u perior quality, anrd the binding neat and substantial.'-Phizada. Inquirer. "Its convenient form makes it desirable fr in travelipg, as well as for library purposes.... Book-buyers will do we* to purchase this edition for their libraries -Pitsburg, Gaette. / "Every gentleman who desires to buildl up a complete library must have this 5d1[ tion of Bulwer."--Columws ooucrna page: 486 (Advertisement) -487 (Advertisement) [View Page 486 (Advertisement) -487 (Advertisement) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 486 (Advertisement) -487 (Advertisement) Tricotrin. The Story ofa Waif and Stray. 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Cloth, $2. o' It is romance of the intense school, but it is written with more power, fluency and brilliancy than the works of Miss Braddon and Mrs. Wood, While its scenes and characters are taken from high life." --Boston T'ranscriipt. Chartdos. A Novel. By Ouida, author of Sctraih- more,"Idaia,"& c. z2mo. Cloth, $2. "Those who, hive read these two last- named brilliant wors of fiction (Granville ie Vigne and Stratfiore) will be sure to read Chandos. It is characterized by the same gorgeous coloring of style and some- what exaggerated portraiture of scenes and characters, but it is alstory of surpassing power and interest."-'itsburg Evening Chronicle. Idalia. A Novel. By Ouida, author of "Strath- more," "Tricotrin,"&c. 12mo. Cloth, $2. "It is a story of love and hatred, of aiffection and jealousy, of intrigue and de- votion. . . We think this novel will 9a- tain a wide popularity, especially amoLg those whose refined taste enables them to appreciate and enjoy what is truly beau- tifull in literature."'- Albany Evening Yournal. ' I' Under Two Flags. A Story of the Household and the Desert. By OUIDA, author of 'Tricotrin," "Granville de Vigne," &c. x2mb. Cloth, $2. i "No one will be able to resist its fasci- nation who once begins its perusal."-- Philadz. Evening Bulletin. "This is probably the most popular work of Ouida. It is enough of itself to estab- lish her fame as one of the most eloquent and graphic writers of fiction now living." -Chcago Journal of Commerce. Ouida's Xovelettes. First Series, Cecil Castle- maine's Gage. Second Series, Randolph Gordon. Yhird Seris Beatrice Boville. Each of these volumes contains a selectidn ot "OUIDA'S Popular Tales and Stories. i2mo. Cloth, each $1.75 The many works already in print byo plaignraie]adavnue l The many works already in print by this versatile authoress have established her reputation as a novelist, and these short stories contribute largely to the stock I of pleasing narratives and adventures ailiv4 to the memory of all who are given te romance and fiction."--N. Haven ouy. The American Beaver and his Works. By Lewis H. MORGAN, author of The league of the Iroquois." Hand- somely illustrated with twenty-three full-page Lithographs and numerous Wood-Cuts. One vol. 8vo. Tinted paper. Cloth extra, $5. "The book may be pronounced an ex- pansive and standard work on the Ameri- can beaver, and a valuable contribution to science."--V. Y. Herald. "The book is an octavo of three hun- dreW and thirty pages, on very thick paper, handsomely bound and abundantly illus- trated with maps and diagrams. It is a com- plete scientific, practical, historical and des- criptive treatise on the subject of which it treats, and will form a standard for those who are seeking knowledge in this de- partmeit of animal life. .... By the pub- lication of this book, Messrs. J. B. Lip- pincott & Co., of Philadelphia, have reallyl done a service to science which we trust wil be well rewarded "- Boston Eve. Traveler. The Autobiography of Dr. Benjamin Franklin. The first and only complete edition of Franklin's Memoirs. Printed from the original MS, With Notes and an Introduction. Edited by the HON. JOHN BIGELOW, late Minister of the United States to France. With' Portrait from a line Engraving on Steel. Large x2mo. Toned paper. Fine cloth, beveled boards, $2.50. "The discovery of the original auto- paph of Benjamin Franklin's character- istic narrative of his own life was one of the fortunate events of Mr. Bigelow's dip- lomatic career. It has given him the op- portunity of producing a volume of rare bibliographical interest, and performing a valuable service to the cause of letters. He has engaged in his task with the en- thusiasm of an American scholar, and completed it in a manner highly credit- able to his judgment and industry."-The New York Tribune. "Every one who has at heart the honor of the nation, the interests of Am rican literature and the fame of Franklhn will thank the author for so requisite a national service, and applaud the manner and method of its fulfillment."-Boston Eve m Transcript The Dervishes. History of the Dervishes; or, Oriental Spiritualism. By JOHN P. BROWN, Interpreter of the American Legation at Constantinople. With twenty-four Illus- trations. One vol. crown 8vo. Tinted paper. Cloth, $3.50. "In this volume are the fruits of long years of study and investigation, with a great deal of personal observation. It treats, in an exhaustive manner, of the belief and principles of the )Dervishes. . . On the whole, this is a thoroughly original work, which cannot fail to be- come a book of reference."- The Pilada. Press. rew America. By Wm. Hepworth Dixon. Fourth edition. Crown 8vo. With Illustrations. Tinted paper. Extra cloth, $2.75. -In this graphic volume Mr. Dixon dert es American en and women sharp- ly, vigorously and truthfully, under every i aspect."-Dublin University Magain. ; X page: 488 (Advertisement) -489 (Advertisement) [View Page 488 (Advertisement) -489 (Advertisement) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 488 (Advertisement) -489 (Advertisement) - Bulwer's Novels. Globe Edition. Complete in twenty-two volumes. With Frontispiece to each volume. Beau tifully printed on fine tinted paper. I6mo. Extra cloth, $33 extra cloth, gilt top, $38.50; half calf, neat, $55; half Turkey, gii' top, $66; half calf, gilt extra, $66. Each novel sold separately. as below, in extra cloth, at $1.50 per volume. The Caxtons. ...... .. I vol. My Novel..............2 vols. What will He Do with It?..2 vols. Devereu ...............I vol. Last Days of Pompeii....x vol. Leila, Calderon and Pilgrims. i v. Rienzi .....**.. I vol. The Last of the Barons.. x vol. Harold... ..... ...vol. Eugene Aram ........... voL Zanoni .............I..x vol. Pelham ........... ..... voL The Disowned...........x vol. Paul Clifford ........... vol. Ernest Maltravers ........x vol Godolphin ............... vol. Alice................ I vol Night and Morning.... . vol. Lucretia.............. t vol. A Strange Story ......... vo "The Globe-edtion of Bulwer is very neat and satisfactory--more satisfactory than any other issued in this country."- Philada. North A merican. "The Globe edition is remarkable for a ludicious combination ot cheapness, legi- ility and beauty."- Charleston Courier. "We have repeatedly borne witness to 'he pre-eminence of the Globe over all other editions, in respect to cheapness, neatness and convenience of size."-Cin- cinnati Gazette. "The clear-cut type, delicately-tinted paper and tasty binding of this Globe edi- tion of Bulwer's works cannot be awarded too much praise."--Rural New Yorker. "We repeat what we have so often be- fore stated-that the Globe edition is the best ever issued on this side of the Atlan- tic"--New Orleans Times. A "The Globe edition of Bulwer furnishes a model well worthy of imitation."- Philada. Age. "As to execution and price, there is ne better edition in the market."-Chicago Evening Yournal. "We congratulate this well-known Phi- ladelphia publishing house upon furnish- ing so complete, so legible, so compact and so beautiful an edition of the writings of this great novelist. The American book-buylngand book-reading public will not fail to place this fine edition upon their library shelves. It is the best cheap edition of Bulwer that we have ever seen. It is offered at the low price of $.50 per volume. at which price the purchaser gets the best part of the bargain."--Providence Even- ing Press. Reade's Novels. Illustrated Standard Edition of Charles Reade's Novels. Complete in ten vols. I2mo. With Engraved Frontispiece and Vignette Title to each. Handsomely bound in extra cloth. Price, $15 per set Extra cloth, gilt top $17 per set. Sold separately, in extra cloth, as follows: Hard Cash .............$.75 Love me Little Love me Long................ 150 Never too Late to Mend.. 1.75 White Lies.............. 1.50 Foule Play ...... ... 1.50 The Cloister and the Hearth$ .75 Griffith Gaunt............ 1.50 Peg Woffington.......... 1.25 Christie Johnstone.... I . 25 The Course of True Love Never did Run Smooth. T.2q Our Own Birds of the United States. A Familiar Natural History of the Birds of the United States. By WILLIAM L. BAILY. Revised and Edited by Edward D. Cope, Member of the Academy of Nsa ra/ Sciences. With numerous Illustrations i6mo. Toned paper. Extra cloth, $x.5o. "The text is all the more acceptable to the general reader because the birds are called by their popular names, and not by the scientific titles of the cyclopaedias, and we know them at once as old friends and companions. We commend this unpre- tending little book to the public as pos- sessing an interest wider in its range but similar in kind to that which belongs to Gilbert White's Natural History of Sel- borne."--N. Y. Even. Post. "The whole book is attractive, supply- ing much pleasantly-conveyed information for young readers, and embodying an ar- rangement and system that will ofen make it a helpful work of reference for older naturalists."-Philada. Even. Bulletin. "To the youthful, 'Our Own Birds' i likely to prove a bountiful source of pleas- ure, and cannot fail to make them thor- oughly acquainted with the birds of the United States. As a science there is none more agreeable to study than ornithology. We therefore feel no hesitation in com- mending this book to the public. It is neatly printed and bound, and is profusely illustrated."-N-ew York Herald. A Few Friends, and How They Amused Them- selves. A Tale in Nine Chapters, containing descriptions of Twenty Pastimes and Games, and a Fancy-Dress Party. By M. E. DODGE, author of "Hans Brinker," &c. I2mo. Toned paper. Extra cloth, $1.25. "This convenient little encyclopaedia strikes the proper moment most fitly. The evenings have lengthened, and until they again become short parties will be gath- ered everywhere and social intercourse will be general. But though it is compar- atively easy to assemble those who would be amused, the amusement is sometimes replaced by its opposite, and more resem- bles a religious meeting than the juicy en- tertainment intended. The 'Few Friends' drescribes some twenty pastimes, all more or less intellectual, all provident oflmirth, requiring no preparation, and capable ot enlisting the largest or passing off with the smallest numbers. The description is con- veyed by examples that are themselves 'as good as a play.' The book deserves a wide circulation, as it is the missionary of much social pleasure, and demands no more costly apparatus than ready wit and genial disposition." - Phiada. North American. Cameos from English History. By the author of "The Heir of Redclyffe," &c. With marginal Index. i2mo Tinted paper. Cloth, $.25 ; extra cloth, $1.75. "History is presented in a very attractive and interesting form for young folks in this work."--Pittsburg Gazette. "An excellent design happily executed." --N. Y. Times. The Diamond Edition of the Poetical Works of Robert Burns. Edited by REV. R. A. WILLMOTT. New edition. With numerous additions. i8mo. Tinted paper. Fine cloth, $I. ' This small, squareompact volume is "printed in clear type and ns. in three hundred pages, the whole of Bus' poems, with a glossary and index. Its cheap, elegant and convenient, bringing the works of one of the most popu ar of British poets within the means of every ieader."-BRo- ton Even. Transcript. page: 490 (Advertisement) -491 (Advertisement) [View Page 490 (Advertisement) -491 (Advertisement) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 490 (Advertisement) -491 (Advertisement) Agnes Wentwirth. A Novel. By E. Foxton, author of "Herman," and "Sir Pavcn and St. Pavon." I2mo, Tinted paper. Extra cloth, $1.50. "This is a very interesting and well-told story. There is a naturalness in the group- ing of the characters, and a clearness of definition, which make the story pleasant and fascinating. Phases of life are also presented in terse and vigorous words. ... It is high-toned and much above the aver- age of most of the novels issuing from the press."--Pietsburg Gazette. "A novel which has the merit of being written in graceful and clear style, while it tells an interesting story."- TThe ie Iendenst. Siena. A Poem. By A. C. Swinburne., [Relpub. lished' from Lipincot's Magazine.] With Notes. i6mo. Tinted paper. Paper covers, 25 cts. - "Is polished with great care, and is by far the best composition we can recall from 'Swinburne's pen, in more than one of its effects."-Philad^.\ No-tk A merian. I "One of the most elaborate as well as the most unexceptionable of his produc- tions."--A. Y. Evening Post. RecollZelions of Persons and Places in the West. Biy H. M. ,BRACKENRIDGE, a native of the We t; Traveler, Author Jurist.\ New\edition, enlarged. 12mo.\ Toned pLper. Fine cloth, $2. "A very pleasant book it is, describing, in an autobiographical form, what was 'The West' of this country half a century go."--Pilada. Press. "The writer of these 'Recollections' was born in 1786, and his book is accord- ingly full of interesting facts and anec. dotes respecting a period of Western his- tory, which, when the rapid growth of the country is considered, may almost be called Pre-Adamite."--Boson Evening Tran- script. Infelicia. A Volume of Poems. By Adakh saacs MENKEN. i6mo. Toned paper. Neat cloth, $i. Paper cover, 75 cts. With Portrait of Author, and Letter of Mr. Charles Dickens, from a Steel Engraving. Fine cloth, beveled boards, gilt top, $1.50. "Some of the poems are forcible, others are graceful and tender, but all are per- vaded by a spirit of sadness."-Washing- ten Evening Star. "The volume is interesting, as reveal- ing a something that lay beyond the vul- gar eyes that took the liberty of license with the living author's form, and it serves to drape the unhappy life with the mantle of a proper human charity. For herein are visible the vague reachings after and reminiscences of higher things."-Cit- cinnatiEvening Chronicle. Dallas Galbraith. A NVovel. By Afrs. R. Hard-- INO DAVIS, author of "Waiting for the Verdict," "Margaret Howth," "Life in the Iron Mills," &c. 8vo. Fine cloth, $2. "One of the best novels ever written for an American magazine."-Philda..Morn- Fr Pos t. The story is most happily written in U respects."- The Nort A merican. "As a specimen of her wonderful in- eunsity and passionate sympathies, this wstained and wholly noble romance is equal or superiorto any previous achieve ment."-Philadak. Evening Bulletin. "We therefore seize the opportunity to say that this is a story-f unusual power, opening so as to awaken interest and maintaining, the interest tt the end."- The National Bajtist. THE WORKS OF WASHNGTON IRVING. EDITIONS OF IRVING'S WORKS. 1. The IKnickerbocker Edition.-Large I2mo, on superfine laid, tinted paper. Profusely Illustrated with Steel Plates and Wood-cuts, elegantly printed from new stereotype plates. Complete in 27 vols. Bound in extra cloth, gilt top. Per vol. $2.50. Half calf, gilt extra. Per vol. $4. [I. The Riverside Edition.--6mo, onfne white paper; from new stereotype plates. With Steel Plates. Complete in 26 vols. Green crape cloth, gil top, beveled, edges. Per vol $1.75. Half calf, gilt extra. Per vol. $3.5.- "I. The People's Edition.-From the same stereo- type plates as above, but printed on cheaper paper. Complete in 26 vols. i6mo. With Steel Vignette Titles. Neatly bound in cloth. Per vol. $1.25. Half calf neat. Per vol. $2.50. IV. The Sunnyside Edition.-I2Mo, onfine toned paper. With Steel Plates. Complete in 28 vols. Handsomely bound in dark-green cloth. Per vol. $2.25. Half calf, gilt extra. Per vol. $4. Embracing the following: Bracebridge HaIl, Wolfert's Roost. Sketch Book, Traveler, Knickerbocker, Crayon Miscellany, Goldsmith, Alhambra, Columbus, 3 vols., Astoria, Bonneville, Mahomet, 2 vols., Granada, Salmagundi, Spanish Papers, 2 vols. Washington, 5 vol., Life and Letters, 4 vols.5 The reissue of these works in their several forms is unusually elegant. The plates are new, the paper superior, the printing hand some, and each, in proportion to price, combining good taste with economy, 4- EACH WORK SOLD SEPARATELY. 'i page: 492 (Advertisement) -493[View Page 492 (Advertisement) -493]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 492 (Advertisement) -493 The, Old Afam'selle's Secret. After the German of E. Marlitt, author of "Gold Elsie," "Countess Gisela," &c By MRs. A. L. WISTER. Sixth edition. I2mo. Cloth, $I.75. "A more charming story, and one which, having once commenced, it seemed more difficult to leave, we have not met with for many a day."-The Round Table. "Is one of the mo.;t intense, concentrated, compact novels of the day. ... And the work has the minute fidelity of the author I of 'The Initials,' the dramatic unity of Reade, and the graphic power of Georpg Elliot."--Columbus (O.) ournaL "Appears to be one of the most interet. ing stories that we have had from Europ for many a day."-Boston Traveler. Gold Elsie. From the German of E. Marlitt, author of the "Old Mam'selle's Secret," "Countess Gisela," &e By MRS. A. L. WISTER. Fifth edition. i2mo. Cloth, $1.75. "A charming book. It absorbs your attention from the title- page to the end."- The Home Circle. "A charming story charmingly told."- Baltimore Gazette. Countess Gisela. From the German of E. Mar- litt, author of "The Old Mam'selle's Secret," "Gold Elsie," "Over Yonder," &c. By MRS. A. L. WISTER. Third Edition. I2mo. Cloth, $I. 75. "There is more dramatic power in this than in any of the stories by the same iathor that we have read."-N O. Times. "It is a story that arouses the interest of the reader from the outset."-Pitusbur Gazette. "The best work by this author.- Philada. Telegraph. Over 2onder. From the German of E. Marlitt, author of "Countess Gisela," "Gold Elsie," &c. Third edition. With a full-page Illustration. 8vo. Paper cover, 30 cts. "'Over Yonder' is a charming novel- ette. The admirers of Old Mam'selle's Secret' will give it a glad reception, while those who are ignorant of the merits of this author will find in it a pleasant i- troduction to the works of a gied writer," -Daily Sentinel. Three Thousand Miles through tA Rocky Afoun tains. By A. K. MCCLURE Illustrated. r2mo. Tinted paper Extra cloth, $2. , , "Those wishing to post themselves on the subject of that ,magnificent and ex- traordinary Rocky Mountain dominion should read the Colonel's book."-New Y^k, Times. "The work makes one of the most satis- factory itineraries that has been given to us from this region, and must be read with both pleasure and profit."-Philada. North A mArican. ' "We have never seen a book of Western travels which so thoroughly and completely tisfied us as bis, nor one written in such * I - . , Of t agreeable and charming style."--Bradfo/ . Relorter. "The letters contain many incidents of Indian life and adventures of travel which impart novel charms to them."-Chkcag Evening 7ourial. . "The book is full ofuseful information.' --New York I ndeendet. Let him who would have some propei i conception of the limitless material rich- ness of the Rocky Mountain region, read this book."--Charleston.(S C.) Caorzer.