Marrying too late
page: (Cover) [View Page (Cover) ] MARRYING TOO LATE. page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ] MARRYING TOO LATE. A TALE. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. SHTAKESPEARE. GEORGE WOOD. AUTHOR OF "PETER SCHLEMHL IN AMERICA," AND "MODERN PILGRIMS." NEW YORK: D. APPLETON-& COMPANY, 846 & 848 BROADWAY. M DCCC. VII. page: 0[View Page 0] Entered, according to the Act or Congress, in the year 1856, by D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. TO "OTUR NEW EVANG E L." DELL-EVA, CLIFTON, OHO. In writing this work, I have sought to illustrate what I believe to be the law of God's providence, in the relations of married life, and to show, that when the leadings of the affec- tions are suppressed from motives of pride, avarice or ambition, such persons, marrying when they may, or as they may, marry too late. I beg your acceptance of this volume, dear E**, in testi- mony of my high appreciation of the goodness, gentleness, and grace of Woman; all which have in you their embodiment, and for which admiring friendship has found a fitting expres- sion in your new name. May life, light and love wait upon your steps THE AUTHOR. CITY OF WASMNGTON, September llth 1856. page: 0 (Table of Contents) [View Page 0 (Table of Contents) ] To t - CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAG] In which the chief Personages of this Tale are introduced to the Reader ........................... .............. 13 CHAPTER II. The ascent and descent of Righi ........................................ 21 CHAPTER III. Dangers of Propinquity-Mr. Argyle betrayed by a kiss........ 30 CHAPTER IV. The Story of Meda ....................................................... 35 CHAPTER V. Mr. Argyle in Love at last............................................... 45 CHAPTER VI. Love experiences of Mr. Argyle-Lord Hempstead's Story of his investment in Arkansas Bonds................;;................. 53 CHAPTER VII. Mr. Argyle's Recollections of his early Life ..................... 62 page: viii (Table of Contents) -ix (Table of Contents) [View Page viii (Table of Contents) -ix (Table of Contents) ] AV11 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE Our Travellers arrive at Home............................................ 70 CHAPTER IX. They visit Meda's Nunnery-Adventures of Mr. Argyle with a Roman Bishop ......................................................... 75 CHAPTER X. Mr. Argyle declares his Love to Meda .............................. 81 CHAPTER XI. Mr. Argyle's interview with the Count--Tie Franciscan at- -tempts to assassinate Meda ...... ; ................................ 93 CHAPTER XH. Mr. Argyle marries Meda-Of Meda's Diamonds................... 100 CHAPTER XIII. Mr. Argyle and friends meet Mrs. D'Oyle, formerly Miss Adela Tripp........ * ..... . ................... . 110 CHAPTER XIVM f Mrs. D'Oyle's Party--Meda's magnificence-The news of which reaches New York.......................................... 117 CHAPTER XV. Family scenes at Mr. Duncan's .......................... .... 129 CHAPTER XVI. A visit of condolence from Miss "Ivy Green......................; 186 CHAPTE-R XVII. , More of what was said of Mr. Argyle's marriage,1............... 144 COiNTENTS. ix CHAPTER XVIII. iPAGB Story of Mrs D'Oyle................,.............................. 155 CHAPTER XIX. Mrs. D'Oyle's Story continued-Her ife in- London... ............ 169 CHAPTER XX. The Argyle Party reach Home ................... ..... 185 CHAPTER XXI. Meda's day of Reception ..................... 194 CHAPTER XXII. Meda and Rev. Doctor Auchmuty.. .*. ......... 203 . CHAPTER XXII. Mcda gives a grand Party..................... ... 209 CHAPTER XXIV. Meda's first appearance at Church-The Rev. Doctor's Sermon... 214 CHAPTER XXV. * The interview of Mr. Argyle and his Nephew, concerning Rachel Richardson .....'..... . .. .,. 222 CHAPTER XXVI. Meda visits Rachel .................................... 230 CHAPTER XXVII. A Conversation between the Sisters concerning Meda............... 2836 CHAPTER XXVU. :, JMeda'ana Rachel ............ - Meda and Ra chel..... ................. .... ............. 241 page: x (Table of Contents) -xi (Table of Contents) [View Page x (Table of Contents) -xi (Table of Contents) ] X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIX. PAGE Meda pwns her Jewels.:.................................., 250 CHAPTER XXX. Count Montaldi reaches New York ....................................... 257 CHAPTER XXXI. The Conversation at the Club-house concerning Count Montaldi and his Suite ............................................. 266 CHAPTER XXXII. Meda redeems her Diamonds ... .................... 269 CH1APTER XXXIII. Meda and Mr. Argyle's first Quarrel-An Accident befalls Mr. Argyle-Meda' s method of amusing her husband in his sick room ........... ............................................. 274 CHAPTER XXXIV. Day and Night Scenes at Count Montaldi's--The Count's Sum- mer at- Newport,-His second Winter opens in New York with new Eclat and Success........ ..... ......................... 291 CHAPTER XXXV. The Masquerades-Max Bohrer's Serenades before Mr. Argyle's House-Mr. Argyle's method of abating a Nuisance ............ 303 CHAPTER -XXXVI. The Beginning of the End--Meda is locked out at night by her husband ........................................................... 329 CHAPTER XXXVII. Of Meda's return home-Her Reconciliation ........................ 343 " \ CONTENTS. Xi CHAPTER XXXVIII. PAG. Count Montaldi leaves for Paris-Mr. Argyle and Meda go to Hopedale-Interesting state of Mr. Argyle's mind at this time .................. .... ................ 357 CHAPTER XXXIX. tmportant Personages arrive in New York'and produce most unexpected changes ..................... . .,. .. 367 CHAPTER XL. Meda is deserted by her Husband-Mr. Argyle in Washington - -Meda in her sick chamber .................. ...... 375 CHAPTER XLI. A family meeting at Mr. Argyle's-Meda's last Sabbath in New York .............. ss 84 - CHAPTER XlAI. Meda's depart re ........-* * ' 404 CHAPTER XLII. Mr. Argyle's search for his Wife ............................ 412 ICHAPTER XLIV. Miss Ida Dtincan finds a Husband in the Rev. Doctor Timothy "8 Toogood '....."' * *.****** 418 CHAPTER XLV. The last days of Meda........................ ....** 428 page: xii-13[View Page xii-13] MARRYING TOO LATE. CHAPTER I. ' IN WHCH THE McULeM PERSONAGES OF THS TALE ARE INTRODUCED TO THE READER. IT was dark, when Mr. Argyle and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd reached the hotel de Londres, n the village of Chamouni. They had left Sallenches in the morning, and on their way had climbed every steep which attracted them, and sat gazing on scenery so beautiful that- they loitered away the day, erecting castles in the air, where they could be conte'nt to spend their days, drinking in delight, life-long; from the entrancing beauty around them. Thus had sped the hours, and when they reached the valley of Chamonix and stood in the very centre of Nature's anmphitheatre of grandeur, they were too hungry and weary to do more than glance upward and around them. Their courier had preceded them, and they found supper awaiting their com- ing. This over, our travellers sallied out to look once again upon sovran Blanc," by starlight. It was mid- page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " MARRYING TOO LATE. summer, and twilight was no more. Ini the darkness of night, they looked up to the c, hoary mount " whose " bald -and awful head " seemed impending. The sublimity of the scenery was greatly enhanced by obscurity and darkness: On returning to their hotel they called for their host. A smiling Swiss, who spoke the very best English, made his appearance, and begged their commands. Mrs. Lloyd asked, " at what hour they must rise to see the morning star ascend over the brow of Mont Blanc." The Swiss bowing profoundly, with a smile, replied: "I am often asked that question by English travellers; but, madam, the morning star is C a rarity of the season' I cannot offer you; like other stars, the day-star has other engagements at this hour. IBut if you rise at three o'clock, you will see the cusp of the waning moon, which is most like the morn- ing star of any. thing to be had. at the present time." "We shall certainly oversleep ourselves unless you will waken us," said Mr. Lloyd. "I will waken you with pleasure," replied the host, "and I have to do this for a gentleman and his daughter, who wish to see the mountain at the dawn of day." In the gray of the next morning, Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd were wakened by the sound of a horn beneath their windows, and rising, they witnessed the departure of flocks and goatherds. The little bells around the necks of the juveniles jingled sweetly as they trotted along, followed by the grave, reverend, grandfather-graybeards of the valley, on their way tothe green slopes of the mountain. While Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd were making their toilettes, as best they could in the gray of the morning (for though ay A MORNING ADVENTURE. . . 19 there was a charge of three francs for wax candles in the bill, there were no lucifer matches in the candlestick to make them available at this hour when most needed), a smart rap was made. upon their door, and a voice cried at, "Alto I alto " Now, Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, though gnorant of the Italian language, were able, from their acquaintance with the village singing-book, to understand the voice to mean, " up! up!" and with little reference to the details of dressing, they made themselves ready for a descent. Mrs. Lloyd, followed by her husband, led the way into the pitch-dark entry, and found herself in the arms of a gentleman, who cried--"Orsu! orsu I e giorno fatto," * and with some difficulty she avoided a morning kiss. At the instant, the door next opened, and the rustling of silks was heard, and a collision followed, for the unseen ran in upon Mrs. Lloyd and the unknown, proving the truth of the axiom in physical science, that two bodies cannot exist at the same time in the same place. An exclamation from Mrs. Lloyd corrected the mistake, and a gay laugh followed from the unseen lady at the oddness of the adventure, for now they were all mixed up in hopeless confusion. Mrs. Lloyd had been instantly released with "pardon " spoken with a French accent, and Mr. Lloyd once more possessed himself of his wife. The stairs being groped for and found, they all descended into the entry below, where they awaited the coming of the host, who now appeared, bearing a light and followed bylMr. Argyle. Mrs. Lloyd recognized * "Come! come! it is broad daylight." page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 MARRYING TOO LATE, in the lady and gentleman her opposite neighbors while at Mivart's Hotel, London. The door -being opened, all went into the open air together. The stars shone undimmed by a cloud. The fresh breeze of the morning was delightfully cold, and Mrs. Lloyd and the young lady and her attendant, by their dancing steps, expressed their joyousness and elas- ticity. They walked up the village to the point of highest elevation, in front of the church, and looked up and around them in silence. The grandeur, for which they found no fitting words, grew into their souils. The moon, . showing the slightest curve of its silver shield, now rose over the head of awful Blanc. The stars seemed as if but a little beyond the summit which rose before them, like a wall of shadow, high into heaven. A need of sympathy and companionship kept them together, and thus it was they shared their overpowering emotions. While standing thus in silence, the father of the young lady whispered to her some request, which she seemed to decline. This he repeated, when, relinquishing his arm, and giving her bonnet to her servant, she adjusted her shawl, and stepping a little in advance of-the group, she assumed an attitude- at once graceful and commanding. Looking up, she stretched out her hands, as if awaiting the afflatus of the genie. Her words came forth in tones, clear and silvery, though, in the beginning, all but inaudi- ble. There was a slight accent upon her tongue, which heightened the beauty of her recitation of Coleridge's "Hymn before sunrise, in the vale of Chamouni"-that sublime and lofty hymn! Her voice grew upon the ear COUNT AND SIGNORINA MONTALDI. 17 as the enthusiasm of her soul was awakened by the inspi- ration of genius. The Argyle party 'listened with rapt attention ;--they were entranced by the eloquence of this recitationi and before they had recovered, the lady had resumed her bonnet, and with a bow led off her father toward the village. Mr. Argyle and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd remained to watch the changing hues of morning, and were brought back to every-day life by the need of breakfast. Returning, they found two voitures at the door of the hotel, ready for a journey. The Signorina and her father were standing together upon the porch. On Mrs. Lloyd's approach, who hastened to express her thanks for the pleasure they had received, the young lady ungloved her hand, and presenting it with a smile, said, "I hope we may meet again." Her voice, manner, and radiant eyes were, all, exceedingly beautiful. Indeed, her beauty was dazzling. Her face and form were perfect, but in, her dark, full, lustrous eye lay the hidings of power. Mrs. Lloyd held her offered hand in both of hers, while Mr. Argyle and her husband, bowing to the Signor, closed around the Signorina, as if to intercept her flight, while each for himself expressed his admiration of her recitation. Her father listened with a pleased and polite attention. Her attendant coming out with a silk scarf which had been left behind, with smiling courtesies the travellers took their -seats in their voiture. It was Mr. Argyle's good fortune to hand the Signorina to her seat, Mr. Lloyd did the same for her attendant, who would have commatnded the same attention as her mis- tress-for she, too, was extremely beautiful, and dressed page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 MARRYING TOO LATE. with as much elegance as the Signorina-but for the hea- venwide space which separates a lady from her maid. Two men-servants entered the second v6iture, and all being ready, with a last bow the travellers separated. -While Mr. Argyle and his party are at breakfast, we will introduce them to our readers.- Mr. Robert McGregor Argyle was a gentleman on the shady side of forty, a resident of the City of New York, who left home in November to visit his maternal uncle, Robert McGregor, Esq., of Monyhive, Scotland. This worthy gentleman had died in the month of March, leaving Mr. Argyle a hundred thousand pounds. He had been some weeks in London, selling out English stocks and buying up those of the States of Massachusetts and New York, aided by his friend Mr. Joshua Bates, of the house of Baring Brothers & Co. In the month of June, Mr. and Mrs. James Lloyd, of Madison Square, New York, by previous arrangement, joined him at Mivart's Hotel, in Upper Brook Street, London. Mrs. Lloyd had been one of the pets of Mr. Argyle from her childhood. She had entered upon her twentieth summer in the full enjoyment of all the happi- ness which wealth, beauty, affection, and her own grateful, loving heart could confer. And on her arrival at London, that great city! whose history was interwoven -with the dreams of childhood, she wanted to see every thing first. There was London Bridge, of whose fall she had sung SIGHT-SEEING IN LONDON. 19 upon her father's knee, when it was easier for her to chant the music than to speak the words- "London bridge is broken do n! Dance away my Lady Lee; How shall we build it up again? With a fal-lall, fal-lall dee." Then there were Temple Bar, and Charing Cross, London Museum, St. Paul's Cathedral, and last, not least, West- minster Abbey and its many monuments: but so it was, this enterprising young wife soon found that her dreams of childhood were never to be realized. That which had been so beautiful in picture books fell far below her expec- tations; and besides, there was every where present, what she had never seen any where depicted, nor ever thought of, an unceasing drizzle. During her fortnight's stay it rained every day, and all her sight-seeing was done beneath the gloomy canopy of London clouds and London smoke. So uncomfortable was all this to Mrs. Lloyd, that she was reluctant to go out, hoping it would clear up! But when her husband and Mr. Argyle were absent, she was left desolate in her suite of beautiful apartments. As for making friends of the inmates of this great hotel, though there was no lack of occupants, ladies of graceful manners and men of distinguished bearing, that was not to be thought of. The suite of rooms on the other side of their hall was occupied by a gentleman of fifty, perhaps, and his daughter, to whom Mrs. Lloyd in passing, bowed, which was always gracefully acknowledged. Weary of London, and despairing of ever seeing the page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 MARRYING TOO LATE. face of the sun in England, Mr. Argyle and his party set off for Paris, where they were sure of finding, if not sun- shine, such a perpetual shimmer of gayety and gladness, in the world about them, as would make the caprices of the climate, if not charming, at least tolerable. We shall not detain our readers by telling of all the various experiences of outi friends in the city of Paris. We may mention that they exhausted Paris in three weeks, and themselves in less time. There was one obser- vation made by Mrs. Lloyd, which may have occurred to others, who, like herself, have made themselves masters of the French language. It was this: that while she found no difficulty in asking questions, she found it all but impos- sible to comprehend the replies she received; and before she left, she came to the final and settled belief that, as a general thing, the people of Paris spoke very bad French. . CHAP TER II. THE. ASCENT AND DESCENT OF RIGH. WE shall not attempt an itinerary of Mr. Argyle and his party. Indeed, this would be the merest surplusage, in these days of travels and tourists. Of all we have yet seen, we' commend the 1"Diary during a European Tour in the year 1847, printed for his friends," by Robert Dodge, Esquire: for brevity and simplicity, this book has never been surpassed. Having dined at Goldau, on the day following their visit to Chamouni, they made the ascent of the Righi, reaching the inn upon its summit in time to witness a glorious sunset. Here they found a crowd of tourists, gazing over this wonderful panorama of Switzerland, whose various expressions of delight would have supplied a lexicographer with the superlatives of every spoken lan- guage of Europe. Lake Lucerne lying beneath them, a polished mirror reflecting the clouds and mountains, was not the least delightful object of contemplation. They page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] '22 MARYING TOO LATrE. were literally above the clouds, and in a state of most joyous exaltation. From this "Mount of Transfiguration " they were re- called by their courier, who told them he had exhausted every conceivable argument to secure them rooms in the inn, but had failed. Rooms were not to be had, and no alternative was left them, but to descend and take their chances of obtaining a shelter at the stopping-place below. Thus were they at once disenchanted and brought back to the solid earth. The thought of descending in the dark was dreadful, and now, those masses of cloud, mounting higher and higher, which had been objects of admiration, became terrible as spectres, for they boded a coming storm. Mr. Argyle went at once to see if his more than doubtful French and unmistakable gold, would not succeed better than the glib French of his courier. It was obvious enough, when the gold was shown upon the palm of Mr. Argyle's hand, the desire of the host to serve him was greatly enhanced; but the crowd had possession, and all he could offer was benches to sit upon, and a roof to cover them. Fully satisfied that such was the state of the case, Mr. Argyle returned to his friends, who stood inf front of the inn awaiting the result of his negotiations, with longings for a signal to enter. His reply to their anxious ques- tionings, was, that food and shelter were all they could obtain. While they stood discussing these common d6s- agremens of tourists, of which this was their first experi- ence, a window was opened in the second story of the inn by a lady, who kissed her hand to them. Surprised, they MOUNT RIGH. 23 looked up, hoping to see some familiar face from Boston, New York, or Philadelphia; when the Signorina of Cha- mouni came running out to meet them. To her earnest inquiries, they told her of their mishap in coming to a house filled to its utmost capacity. She paused an instant and counted the party, consisting of Mr. Argyle,:Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, Archy Murray, Mr. Argyle s servant, Willie Stephens, and Maria, the valet and maid of Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd. This done, she smiled very sweetly, and said, "Now, if you will share with us our rooms, it will please me and my father. Wait! I will bring him. He shall speak for himself." So saying, she ran into the house, and soon returned with her father. "Let me, madam," said the Signorina, addressing Mrs. Lloyd, "present my father, Count Montaldi, sometimes styled molto nobili Signori Montaldi, and myself, as his only child, Meda; all my names I will not tell you now, for you will surely forget them." Mrs. Lloyd presented her hand to the count, and then introduced him to her husband and Mr. Argyle. This done, our gentlemen assumed for them- selves, without further ceremony, to thank the lovely girl for her kindness, while tthe count and Mr. Lloyd were conferring as to what should be done. It was settled, that the gentlemen should share the room of the count, and that Mrs. Lloyd and Maria should share the room of Meda and Signorina Elvira Moro, her attendant; the men-servants of both parties" sharing the remaining room. This was the best that could be done; and the eviden+ earnestness of the daughter, and the quiet satisfaction manifested by the father, confirmed Mr. Argyle and his page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 MARRYIN'G TOO, LATE. friends in the pleasure it gave them to do all this kind- ness. A sitting room was made of the room occupied by Meda; and she showed her skill in making them happy in their narrow quarters. Every sort of stool was put in requisition for seats; and when they were all seated, a most agreeable surprise awaited them, in a supper pre- pared by the count's valets, whose various abilities they were yet to learn. Their skill as purveyors of supplies and cooks was happily now made conspicuous, for the guests had reason to thank them for the supplies they had brought from below. Trays with cups were placed upon the bed for want of a table, and like expedients were called in requisition, but notwithstanding every discom- fort, to use a favorite phrase of our friend, Robert Dodge, "they supped together capitally." The joyousness of our friends was arrested by flashes of lightning, and a roar of thunder which shook the house, as by an earthquake from beneath them, which, indeed, it was. They made an end of their supper, and with such preparation as they could make, went into the open air, where, sheltered from the wind by the house, they stood, awed and excited by the terrors of a thunder-storm on the summit of Elighi. "Have you no poetry for such a scene as this?" asked Mr. Argyle of Signorina Montaldi, as she clung to her father, speechless from terror. A young "Hinglishman," hearing Mr. Argyle's request, at once volunteered the recitation of Byron's well-known DISCOMFORTS OF TRAVELLERS. - 5 descriptive stanzas in Childe Harold's pilgrimage.* His almost unintelligible mouthing, was in striking contrast with Meda's recitation of Coleridge's hymn. It was nearly midnight when the redoubling beat and roll'of the " thunder-drum of heaven " was heard, far off over the sea of mountain-tops, and a thick mist, rising, shrouded them in vapor. No wooden horn was sounded as at early dawn, and they were permitted to sleep on undisturbed. The Righi was invested by a cloud, chill and dense, and travellers, who had come from distant con- tinents, found the weather had no regard for their im- patience. Some said pettishy, " they could not wait for it to clear up," and down they went. Others, as the day ad- vanced, finding their patience exhausted, declared, "they believed it would never be clear, and the Righi was the last mountain they would climb in a lifetime ;" others com- forted themselves, saying, " as they had a fine sunset and a glorious thunder-storm, they would give up the sight of a sunrise;," and so it was, Mr. Argyle and his party, before night, had all the room they required, from the many departures and non-arrivals of their second day. One day's in-door intimacy made our travelling friends well acquainted with each other, and they soon found out that their course of travel lay in the same direction, ending alike at Rome. A compact was made by Mrs. Lloyd and Signorina Montaldi to travel in-company, and, on being submitted to their gentlemen for approval, was most graciously concurred in. * Canto III. stanzas 92 to 97. 2 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 MA1RRYING TOO LATE, The second day's sunset was far more resplendent than the first. The evening was spent in the room of the sig- norina, who, with her father, sang for them, for an hour or more. Mrs. Lloyd, aided by her husband and Mr. Argyle, sought to repay the count and Meda by singing ' The Star-spangled Banner," "'Old Dan Tucker," "Lucy Neal,"' and other popular American melodies; and for the first time 'in their lives, they felt ashamed that their beloved country had no better national songs than these to sing, in compliance with the polite request of accomplished stran- gers for our national melodies.--How long shall this re- proach continue? In the early dawn of the third day, the welcome and wished-for sound of the wooden horn was heard beneath their windows, and was promptly met. Contrary to the most express orders, in every language of Europe, pasted up in their rooms, our travellers hesitated not a moment to take their blankets and coverlets upon their shoulders, in addition to all their own clothing, before they left their rooms. Indeed, the very order not to take, was the sugges- tion they required to provide for the contingencies of the * time and place. The air was clear, and so cold that they were glad to huddle together, after having ascended the observatory, to witness, from the highest point attainable, the coming of the glorious sun. There was not a cloud to be seen. The brisk north breeze had swept every cobweb from- the sky, and all that could be wished for, from purity of atmosphere, was above, around, and beneath them. There was a good deal of pleasantry displayed on the occasion. Mrs. Lloyd called I, SUNRISE ON MOUNT RIGM. 27 the sun a laggard of a bridegroom, when pretty ladies were standing on tip-toe to receive his morning salutations: whereupon Mr. Argyle, '" suiting the action to the word," offered to make up for any such delinquencies. Mr. ? Argyle's gallantry took Mrs. Lloyd by surprise; but, as was conceded by the gentlemen, he found ample apology in the rosy cheeks and tempting lips of the ladies -standing beside him on the platform. A distant peak towards the sun's place of rising, like adistant blaze, showed signs of his coming. The man with the wooden horn welcomed his uprising, which brought forth the last of the guests. Referring to the various journals of tourists, and Murray's Guide Book, we shall not describe the tinting with golden light the sum- mits of mountains, spread on all sides like the multitudi- nous waves of the ocean. Chilled and hungry, our travel- lers hastened down from their perilous height of- observa- tion, and with a zest only to be gained by a like exposure, and such glorious scenery, they sat down to a breakfast prepared by Felix, ahef de Cuisine, who, to do honor to the occasion, surpassed himself in the excellence of his ! coffee and the variety his skill manufactured out of the few articles he had to act upon. It put them all in the best spirits for the labors of the day: for, next to the fatigue, of climbing up a steep ascent, is the trouble of getting down; and especially is this true, in the experience of ladies of the present day, with their " sail-broad vans " of flowing drapery. All being ready for their day's travel, Elvira, aided and waited on by Mr. Lloyd, led the way. She was page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 MARRYING TOO. LATE. pretty and bewitchingly coquettish, with an abandon, at conjunctures, all her own. Her sole care was to save her dress from being torn. Next came Mrs. Lloyd with Count Montaldi, whose dexterity and strength were both called into requisition at times, when the utmost delicacy and politeness were alike manifested. Meda and Mr. Argyle came next. The light silk dress this lovely girl wore, after the fashion of the day, when taken, by the breeze often assumed the form of a balloon, and if Mr. Argyle was not in danger of losing his eyes like a certain man of Coventry, he was endangering his heart. His desire to save the dress, and aid the lady, were not always compatible. It is true, he had had some experience of this sort in his life- time; for, somehow, such things do happen to bachelor gentlemen-and especially those who have sterling attrac- tions to win the love of ladies. Signorina Meda was, certainly, under the greatest obligations to Mr. Argyle for his delicacy, conspicuous in all he did, and in all he refrained from doing. And so it was, Meda's dress was utterly ruined before they reached the inn, while Elvira's had not a single brack in it of any sort. CHAPTER III. DANGERS OF PROPINQUITY.---MR. ARGYE BETRAYED BY A KISS. DESCENDING on the western side, they reached Lake Lucerne, and spent several days sailing upon its polished surface, and wandering upon its beautiful banks. They lingered at every sweet spot, as they travelled leisurely and happily along, until- the pearly skies of Italy were above them. The day before reaching Milan was very beautiful, and so many pleasant interruptions"had occupied their hours that it was only by travelling at night they could reach that city the next morning, as they had purposed. The night was soft and warm, and the full moon was rising, when they set out, after supper, for Milan. There was nothing in this night's travel differing from a night's travel elsewhere. Mrs. Lloyd had the advantage of her friends in this, that she had read in her childhood Mrs. Radcliffe's novels, and was indulging herself in a page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30 MARRYING TOO LATE. delicious fright of an adventure with banditti. She com- forted herself thinking what a surprise awaited these brigands when Colt's revolvers were brought to bear upon them. These were placed in the pocket of the vettura. The first vettura contained the count and Meda on the back seat, and Mr. Argyle sitting on the seat in front of Meda; the second, contained Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd and Maria, her maid. The third, Felix, Elvira, Willie Stephens and Archy Murray; the fourth, the courier and servants of the count. Mr. Argyle held the attention of Meda till near mid- night, when she began to show signs of sleepiness. As for the count, wrapped up in a Spanish cloak, with a quilted riding-cap drawn over his head and eyes, he sat fast asleep in his corner of the coach. Meda, drawing her shawl about her, and a hood over her face, bidding Mr. Argyle bon nuit," disposed of herself for sleeping. Mr. Argyle, in turn, sought to go to sleep, but he found it not so easy a matter; for every little while, as when the vettura rose a steep hill, he was in danger of pitching into Meda's lap; and then, when they descended the hill, he every moment expected she would fall into his; but Meda had braced her feet against a travelling bag which lay on the floor of the vehicle, and so retained her place. As for the count, his heels were braced by the seat on which Mr. Argyle sat, and thus he secured himself. Sleep- ing by short, and what the celebrated Doctor Kitchener calls "forty winks naps," Mr Argyle passed the long hours of night, till the signs of dawn became visible. The moon was still shining, and the road was free from all MEDA B KISS. 81 shadows, when Meda, by a sudden pitch in the road, was tossed into the lap of Mr. Argyle. He had hoped this would chance to be, and had waited for it with the patience of an angler for a " glorious nibble." No nurse ever' re- ceived a child more tenderly. Without the slightest inde- corum, Mr. Argyle placed Meda's feet upon the seat on which he sat, so that she might, with more ease, retain her new position. And there she lay, fast asleep, in all the innocency of childhood. Mr. Argyle, with his life-long experience, was not pre- pared for such an hour as this. Having gently put aside Meda's luxuriant tresses--they were silky soft!-which, loosened in the restlessness of sleep, had fallen dishevelled from their fasteningsupon her fair neck, he could not forbear to put his lips to her cheek, and whisper, ("Meda!"With her eyes closed, Meda, in a state of semi-consciousness, so it seemed to Mr. Argyle, smiled. Encouraged by this sweet smile, he gently kissed Meda, and she returned his kiss. - From this dangerous proximity, Mr. Argyle was saved by a pitch of the carriage, which sent the count fairly over upon the front seat, and, as the fore-wheels rose, and the hinder went down into the rut, they were all thrown into a heap. The count was entangled in his cloak, and his cap prevented him from seeing. Mr. Argyle first recovered himself, and Meda, now wide awake, having regained her seat, aided her father to uncover himself. The fright over, Meda, with a smile, asked Mr. Argyle how he had passed the night? ;' Charmingly!"' said Mr. Argyle with a significant page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 MARRYING TOO LATE. tone. Meda was oblivious, and when asked how she had fared, and of what she had been dreaming; as if recollect- ing herself, Meda replied, "Dreaming! yes, indeed, I did dream; yes, certainly, I have been dreaming." -"Of whom?" asked Mr. Argyle. Meda blushed as she looked up, and said, "I believe- yes! I was dreaming of you." Mr.- Argyle was delighted beyond measure, and nobody can tell what might have been said by him at this instant, had not the count been present. After the sun had risen, they reached Vercelli, a d here, they stopped to rest and feed their poor horses. Gladly did they all leave their cramped up and uncom- fortable couches, and exchanged congratulations that they were within breakfasting distance of Milan, whither their courier had been sent to make preparation for their arrival. Mrs. Lloyd said she had kept herself awake as long as she could, fearing the brigands would come and find her fast asleep; and when she could do no more at watching, she had sunk down, dead with sleep, upon the bottom of the vettura. Mr. Lloyd had his dreams to tell, and the count was not without a dream; but Meda and Mr. Argyle had no revelations to make. Meda said she had had a sweet dream of some sort, but professed herself incapable of recalling any more than that it was a pleasing dream. Mr. Argyle, in the days following, became thoughtful, almost to sadness. How well he recollected all the inci- dents of that night's travel, and how many were the inquietudes which followed him. He feared being be- guiled; but then, he longed for one more kiss. At times, SYMPTOMS OF LOVPE 83 he was very tender in his attentions to Meda, then again, he confined all his courtesies to Mrs. Lloyd. But what- ever he did, it was all one to Signorina Montaldi. He could not pique her, and was, every hour, more and more piqued himself. He asked himself, "Can it be that she has no remembrance of lying in my lap; that I kissed her, and that she returned my kiss?" With that delicacy which was his nature, Mr. Argyle sought to awaken in Meda's memory a recollection of her tender avowal; but she never caught the burning thought which hovered around his lips, gave color to his cheeks, and fondness to the glance of his eye. Now it was, Mr. Argyle had some misgivings) that, in all the maturity of his years, he was doing what he had never done before-he was falling, falling, falling in love; and with whom? and with what hopes of success? It was madness, folly, and stupidity, all combined. Nor was he the only one aware of this condition of his heart. Mrs. Lloyd, with womanly discernment, had already made the discovery, and had asked her husband to aid in her observations. It was obvious that Mr. Argyle was in a perilous way, and of this Meda and her father seemed to be totally ignorant. "What is best to be done?" was the question Mrs. Lloyd asked of her husband. She thought it best for the parties to separate at Milan, and for them to go to Venice. Mr. Lloyd promised he would take the matter into serious consideration. It was a matter re- quiring some nicety, neither to offend. Mr. Argyle, nor to wound the feelings of Count Montaldi or Meda; on the whole, he thought best to make the suggestion carelessly 2* page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 84 -- MARRYING TOO LATE to Mr. Argyle, and he did so the next day after breakfast, Mr. Argyle colored up to the hair with surprise. "But why?" he asked; " has any thing occurred to'make your wife dissatisfied with our travelling companions? if so, tell me frankly." t By no means," replied Mr. Lloyd. "Then let us go on to Rome," said Mr. Argyle, with great decision; " not to do so would imply a feeling towards our friends which, I hope, has no existence." "We have but one feeling towards Meda," said Mr. Lloyd, "which is, unaffected admiration; and for Count Montaldi, so far as he permits us to know him, profound respect. It is settled, we go to Rome," v CHAPTER IV. THE STORY OF ME DA. AFTER spending a fortnight at Milan, they wended their way towards Rome, visiting Genoa, Pontremoli, Parma, Modena, and making a short stay at each of these cities. Of all our travellers the last to make a forward move was Mr. Argyle, and the secret of his indolence was, his dread of a separation from the lovely Italian. Poor man! he wore at times the appearance of one bestrid by a night- mare. All his transparency of soul, shining from out his frank, fearless face, was gone. He was thinking as he never thought before at one- time of the folly of his conduct in daring to love a young giirl, the only child of herfather; then again, who was Count Montaldi? with whom was he dreaming of mingling the untainted blood I of the Argyles and McGregors? Then other considera- tions came "to his mind; the dismay his marriage would I carry into the hearts of his sisters, and their husbands and children, who counted on his wealth as their own. Next page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 86 MARRYING TOO LATE. to suicide, never could a more perplexing question arise in the mind of Mr. Argyle, and what added to all other perplexities, was the indifference manifested by Count Hon- taldi. Mr. Argyle was piqued by the unconcern expressed by the count in all that concerned Meda and himself. Was it because the idea of his loving his daughter was so utterly preposterous? oh! ,if father or daughter would but show the least possible desire for him to declare himself, he would then know what to do. Such a wish would decide the question; as similar wishes had done at all such conjunctures of his life. But he tasked himself in vain to discover artifice in Meda, or management in the count. Indeed, the childlike confidence which Meda reposed in him, while it fanned the flame of his love, was proof, clear as holy writ, that in her mind he was too old to provoke the thought of loving, or the wish to be loved. As a last resort, with a feeling of intense mortification, he opened his' heart to Mrs. Lloyd, who, with a woman's sympathy, listened to all he had to tell. He affected' any amount of indifference, and spoke of the concerns nearest his heart as a matter of merriment,--a waywardness of the hour. Little did he deceive one so discerning as Mrs Lloyd, who, with her husband, was well satisfied Mr. Argyle was beside himself, and that his actions were now controlled and inspired by his love for this most charm. ing girl. Mrs. Lloyd had already sought the confidence of I Meda, and learned the story of her life. Meda told her that she was born in the island of STORY OF MEDA'S LIFE. - 3 Sicily, and that her father's estates were near Chiaramonte; that she was now nineteen years of age,-that her mother died in her infancy. Her father had always been the reserved man she saw him to be; but his love for her had ever been expressed in giving her all she asked for. When six years of age, her father then residing at Rome, she had been adopted by Lady Ellmore, an English lady of noble family, and had been for four years carefully educated by her. Lady Ellmore -she loved as a mother. One day a big, whiskered man made his appearance at the palace, and all was consternation. She was hurried away to her father's hotel, and Lady Ellmore and her husband, as he proved to be, left Rome for England. She was then placed under the care of masters in Rome, living at a villa near the city, owned by her father, where she had spent the summer months with Lady Ellmore. A mile from the villa lived Cardinal Santucci, and his nephew, who, when she was fourteen years of age, fell in love with her. It was deemed best to shut her up in a convent near by, to keep them both out of harm's way, inasmuch as the young gentleman was designed for the Church, and had already taken the initiative steps to become a priest. She had visited various cities of Europe, and England several times. Her father was now on his way to Rome, and had promised to take her to Sicily, where she had never been, and where she hoped to find some one who was related to her mother, and whom she could love, and had a right to love. Such, in brief, was Meda's story. Mrs. Lloyd had riot the slightest doubt of its truth, so sweetly unaffected was her narrative. page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 88 MAkIRYING TOO LATEb In reply to Mrs. Lloyd's inquiry, who was Elvira, Meda replied, "Mr. Lloyd and Mr. Argyle don't like ' Elvira, because she is my shadow, they say. And she is; and what should I do without Elvira? She is every thing to me, as I am to her. All I know of Elvira is this; hei mother was my governess, who taught me my French a woman of fine manners and great beauty, whose influence over me was only equalled by her sway over my father's household--himself included," added Meda after a pause. "Elvira) being older by four years, had charge of me, and was then, as now, my shadow. Our love was then, as now, absorbing, and when her mother lay on her death-bed, she made me, child as I was, promise never to be separated from Elvira, which I promised with all my heart, and in like manner Elvira was made to promise that she would never be separated from me. Sometimes Elvira annoys me by her devotion, but it would kill her if she could believe it was possible for me to do without her. I don't believe she could sleep a wink if I was not lying/at her side. I do not remember to have slept a night without being folded in her arms." "Indeed! and is she not jealous of your lovers?" "Oh! that she is, dear Mrs. Lloyd. If any one pre- sumes to approach me, Elvira hates them." "But Elvira can't hope to keep you at her side for ever. What can she expect when you marry? Your hus- band will hardly bear a rival, even Elvira." "( Not my husband, dear lady. Continental ladies are not English in their ways of thinking or acting. A lady never relinquishes the seclusion of her own apartments. OF EttROPEAN HSBANDB, 39 My husband shall have his suite, and I will have mine, and Elvira shall be to me then just what she now is; that you may take my word for, Mrs. Lloyd." "Oh! Meda, you are very brave now-but you will change your mind." "No, madam, never! When I marry, it is to govern, not to- obey." "Who are you to marry, Meda? can you guess?" "Indeed, I don't know," replied Meda sadly; "I wish I did; but my father despises his own countrymen, whom he calls the dregs of ancient heroes;- the French are too trifling, and care nothing for the lady, so they are satisfied with her dot; the Germans drink nothing but sour wine and 'lager bier,' and prefer a nasty pipe to the sweetest lips in the worldi and the English are the only people who meet the wishes of my father for me; but how am I to find an Englishman in the Island of Sicily? I often ask myself this question. And then, too, Englishmen are not perfect, for they think more of their horses and hounds than of their wives. Poor me I I do think I shall die a nun after all. Ah! if I could find another Mr. Lloyd, I should be too happy!" "Thank you, Meda! There are hundreds of Mr. Lloyds, or those just as good, in my country, who would marry you at first sight; but tell me, what do you think of Mr. Argyle?" "Mr. Argyle - ' cried Meda, in a tone of surprise; "I have not thought of him at all; but if you tell me to do so, I will; upon my word, I will." ' Pray don't, Meda," replied Mrs. Lloyd, "for he is page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 MARRYING, TOO LATEI an old bachelor, and you must be married to a young bachelor." "Oh, yes! I ought to have married my Prince Cardi- nal that is to be; but alas! in Italy, we don't marry our bishops, as the English do." Meda sighed deeply. "And are you a Roman Catholic, Meda?" "I was, until Lady Ellmore taught me her religion, but I never could see so much difference as she told me there was between her Church and ours. What is your religion, Mrs. Lloyd? Oh I I am a Protestant." "And what do you protest against--' the world, the flesh, and the devil? '" asked Meda, with such naivety as set Mrs. Lloyd laughing merrily. "Yes! I ought to do so, certainly." "Mr. Argyle tells me he is a Presbyterian. Now that is a new word to me. He has been trying to make me understand all about it, but somehow I get all he tells me about Sessions, and Synods, and Presbyteries, and Assemblies Gdngraux in sad confusion. Do you know he is writing out his creed for me to learn?" "Indeed!" cried Mrs. Lloyd; "' his creed, Meda?" "Oh, yes; and he has given the first ten questions and answers. Here they are," said Meda, pulling out a sheet of note paper from her bosom, and Mrs. Lloyd read the familiar words, "What is the chief end of man?" &c. She was tempted to smile, but her respect for Mr. Argyle, and for his desire to instil the truths of Christian. ity into the mind of this dear girl, restrained her. Meda, seeing Mrs. Lloyd in a brown study, said, I AEDA9S SYMPATHY WITH MR. ARGYE. 41 "I think those Synods and Councils must be very pleasant in your country. They are so in- Rome." "Pray what have you to do with these Councils?" "Nothing, dear lady; but our Holy College of Cardi- nals, when assembled in Rome, bring with them in their suites their nephews and nieces, charming young people! and then, too, they always have in their train the hand- somest young priests for their secretaries; so we have gay times whenever they are held. With us, they are very rare nowadays; but Mr. Argyle says you have a meeting of your Assembles Generauz every year. That must be delightful!" "My dear Meda, you have very odd notions of our people; and let me tell you, in all things you Romans are our antipodes." "But then to me you have the charm of novelty. This is always delightful. You can't deny that; and, my dear lady, is not human nature the same in America as in Italy? and if so, though the husk may be different, the kernel will be the same." Mr. Argyle now joined them in company with Mr. Lloyd, and this conversation came to an end. The next day Meda sought Mrs. Lloyd, and after a variety of efforts to make Mrs. Lloyd resume the conver- sation of yesterday, which Mrs. Lloyd purposely avoided, in order to see more of the workings of Meda's mind, she frankly spoke out the thoughts of her soul. "Tell me, dear Mrs. Lloyd, all about Mr. Argyle. I want to know if he is a married man?" Mrs. Lloyd shook her head. "Has he children?" Mrs. Lloyd again shook her head. page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 MAERRYING TOO LATE. "Has he never been married?" asked i Meda with a tone of surprise. ' i "No! poor man," said Mrs. Lloyd, with a tone of sadness, as if she had a heart full of sympathy with their friend, " he never has known the happiness of having a wife.1" "O, is he so very poor? And was there no one to whom his worth and goodness was a fair exchange for wealth?- no rich father glad to endow such a man with a wife and fortune beside? Indeed, I pity him. He has so good a heart, and seems so lovable and loving, and yet, has never been loved! Why, Mrs. Lloyd, what is life without love?" "The nightmare of the soul!" replied Mrs. Lloyd with emphasis. "How many times have you been in love, Meda?" "Only with the prince cardinal, that is to be; but O! it was so sweet to love him. He almost persuaded me to become a nun for his sake, and promised I should be abbess of a nunnery near the city. He is now a bishop, and has put a lady in my convent as abbess to please his friend, the Abb6 de Gorni. I am told she is a very lovely lady, and that the Pope himself visits that nunnery since she has come to- be the abbess-which is a great act of condescension." "What did the young bishop say when you refused to gratify his wish to make a nun of you?" "Poor fellow'! he was very angry. I thought he would have gone crazy when my father took me away from the nunnery; but I told him I was only going to England COUNT MONTALDI AND MRS. LLOYD. 43 to see Lady Ellmore, and I promised him, before the altar of the Holy Virgin, I never would marry an Englishman," and after a moment's abstraction, Meda, as if speaking to herself, added, "but Mr. Argyle is an American." She was all unconscious of having spoken these words. "Oh! my child," thought Mrs. Lloyd, "have you gone so far already? Mr. Argyle is certainly in danger, and how is he to be saved?" Meda caught the look upon the face of Mrs. Lloyd, and spoke: "Now, dear madam, tell me what are you smiling at? Tell me, lwhat have I said? Am I so unlike your countrywomen, that I see you smiling at me, as if provoked to do so by what I have been saying?" Mrs. Lloyd was about to make some evasive answer, when Elvira and Mr. Lloyd came into the room, and in- vited them to walk out on a sight-seeing expedition. And here we may say, that Elvira, who was a person of uncommon beauty, with a gay and jaunty air, had suc- ceeded in securing Mr. Lloyd to be in some sort her gal- lant. She loved coquetry, and Mr. Lloyd loved to coquet with her. It was an amusement which would have pro- voked any woman not so certain of her husband's entire love as was Mrs. Lloyd, who reflected that they were now in the land of grapes and gallantry. And more than this, she too had an admirer in Count Montaldi; and in despite of all his reserve, Mrs. Lloyd saw that she only had the power at all times to break through this barrier, and with her his conversations were full of interest and instruction. His various acquaintance with courts and cabinets was all laid under contribution to please her, and it was a matter page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] 4:4 MARRYING TOO LATE. of wonder that a man of his bland, calm, and quiet man- ners could be possessed of such activity of mind, and be conversant with so many, and seemingly irreconcilable con- ditions of persons and places. There was a spell over her whenever he had fully enlisted her attention, which she neither resisted nor sought to resist. And then, too, the count's life was so. aimless. He seemed quite as indiffer- ent to any advance in their journey as was Mr. Argyle. He was content to remain in every city, and spend the time not devoted to Meda and her studies, in accompany- ing them to every gallery, museum, church, convent and scene worthy of their -examination, making them familiar with all in history or art which clothes such pictures and places with interest. Such was the condition of our travelling party as they wended their way, with every possible divergence, towards the city of Rome-that centre of power more widely dif- fused now, and now more felt than in its Augustan age. CHAPTER V. MR. ARGYE IN LOVE AT LAST. "Poo Mr. Argyle!" sighed Mrs. Lloyd, as she saw him, day after day, more and more abstracted, and only him- self when Meda was present. He sought her society most sedulously, and was unhappy when she was absorbed by any one, especially by a young nobleman, whose attractive mien and manners chanced to come into contrast with his own. And this happened on this wise. Meda was fond of sketching, and often made excursions for this purpose. At such times Mr. Argyle was happy in being allowed to become one of her party, which usu- ally consisted of Elvira, and one of the men-servants to carry her portfolio, umbrella, stools, and other conveni- ences. Meda was engaged in sketching a ruin one day, near to Fiorenzola, on their road to Modena, when a young gentleman, attended by a servant bearing his port- folio and field apparatus, came from behind the ruin, and, advancing towards them, bowing, said to Meda with a page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " MARRYING TOO LATE. smile, speaking in the finest English, "You are before me, I see. May I beg to be permitted to look at your sketch?" : Meda, with a bow of courtesy and some little apology for her want of skill, allowed the stranger to examine her I; work, and this done, he asked to turn over some pages of of her book to other sketches. Meeting with drawings of . objects he had himself drawn, he begged permission to i! show her his own drawings, and, without premeditation or X effort, a long conversation ensued, all about their several experiences in art, in which Meda's talent was developed F not more to the stranger's delight than to Mr. Argyle's, : - who sat by. To the mortification of Mr. Argyle, the i stranger complimented him upon the proficiency of his fair daughter. Meda, with a smile, corrected the mistake. ' ^ The young gentleman then handed his card to Mr. i Argyle, which read thus: "ORD HEMPSTEAD, ' "OCUST LODGE, :. Swaf ham, Norfolk. ': Mr. Argyle bowed with a most non-committal air, and handed the card to Meda, who received it with a graceful acknowledgment. It was evident that Mr. Argyle left it . -: to Meda to act in the matter as she saw fit-a responsai- bility she assumed with grace and ease. "My father, Count Montaldi, will be pleased to receive this card, which I shall hand him on my .return to our inn. My friend, Mr. Argyle "--bowing to Mr. Argyle--" from "ORD HEMPSTEAD AND MEDA. 47 the States, and his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd and ourselves, are on our way to Rome. We go to Modena hi this evening." Lord Hempstead rose, and bowing to Mr. Argyle offered his hand, and this introduction over, Meda went on with her sketching, Mr. Argyle sitting on the one side and Lord Hempstead on the other, without the least embarrassment. The conversation naturally fell to Lord Hempstead, who, as Meda worked on, found much to admire in the handling of her pencil and working up of her picture. Elvira did the best she could to supply the place of her mistress to Mr. Argyle, who relapsed into a long-continued and obstinate silence, unnoticed by Lord J. and Meda, and little cared for by Elvira. They all returned to the inn together, and Lord Hemp- stead was presented by Meda to her, father and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd. He made himself so agreeable to the count and to Mr. and FMrs. Lloyd and Meda, that they could not but express their pleasure when he asked permission to join their party on their way to Rome. The first days of Lord Hempstead's presence helped Mr. Argyle to resolve many questionings of his secret-self. The young lord made himself at home with our travellers. He was about thirty years of age, had a fine figure, and the manners of a thorough-bred gentleman, withalhighly accom plished. Mr. Argyle was now made conscious how entirely Meda had taken possession of his whole soul, and his mind put forth unwonted energies until he himself wondered at himself; and all this he dated from Meda's kiss, for of all page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 MARRYING TOO LATE. X things, his head ran on nothing so constantly as kiss ing, its fascination, and its fearful consequences. He recalled, first of all, the testimony of the Holy Bible: the memorable example of Joab taking Amasa by the beard and kissing him, while at the instant he smote him under the fifth rib with his sworda-a kiss and a blow ; then the stories of Samson and Delilah, and of the wisest of men led away in his old age by strange women. This last seemed a case in point, and hit him in a tender spot. Then came up all, that Solomon had said in those graphic, delineations in his book of Proverbs,t which his father had made him memorize when a boy. But then there was nothing wicked in kisses or in kissing. It was the animus of the act, to use the phrase of men learned in the law. Nor did his recollections end with his Bible reading. Long-forgotten citations came thronging in upon him, such as that famous verse by the divine Plato, upon a kiss, which he revamped, and wrote on a piece of paper, in his best style, and wore in his vest pocket till it was almost illegible. It read thus-- "With Meda's kiss, her soul, As if in doubt to stay, Lingering, drank my spirit in, Then soared away." He often put his hand to his pocket to take out the verse to present to Meda, but as often his heart failed him. He had frequently read old Burton in his younger days, to save himself from the snares of loveliness spread t Proverbs, chap. vii * 2 Samuel, xx. 9 v. THE 1HYSTERY OF KISSES. 49 around him. He was well acquainted with the causes of love, its incentives, and the way to cure it. But what good did all his learning at this conjuncture of his affairs? What good did he get from knowing that women were re- puted, centuries before the Christian era, stronger than kings,* and how valueless now were all the teachings of St. Chrysostom, St. Cyprian, and St. Jerome,j to Mr. Ar- gyle. He felt that Meda must be one of the gifted few, who are thus described by old Balthazar Castilio: They breathe out their souls and spirits together with their kisses : they change hearts and spirits, and mingle affec- tions as they do kisses, and it is rather a connection of the mind than of the body." j: Esdras iv. 10. Apocrypha. t It may gratify our readers to read a description of a fine lady from the pen of this eminent Saint. (A. D. 330 to 380.) ST. JEROME says: "She walks along, and with the rustling of her clothes, makes men look at her: her shoes creak: her waist is pulled in to make her look small: she is straight girded: her hair hangs loose about her ears: her upper garment sometimes falls to show her naked shoulders; and, as if she would not be seen, she covers that in all haste, which voluntarily she showed." T The Rev. Sydney Smith has said, in writing of kissing: "I We are in favor of a certain amount of shyness when a kiss is proposed, but it should not be too long; and when the fair one gives it, let it be administered with warmth and energy. Let there be a soul in it. If she close her eyes and sigh deeply immediately after it, the effect is greater. She should be careful not to slobber a kiss, but give it as a humming-bird runs his bill into a honeysuckle-deep, but delicate. There is much virtue in a kiss, when well delivered. We have had the memory of one we received in our youth, which lasted us forty years, and we believe it wil be one of the last things we will think of when we die." S page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] O MARRYIING TOO LATE. Yes!" exclaimed Mr. Argyle in one of his solitary ambles, "Heda has drunk up my soul; but have I hers hat is the uestion." And so it was, in spite of himself, he was oftener thinking of all that has been said in praise of kisses, than of the warnings of the wisest of men and holiest of saints against their baleful influences. It was a mystery to him how a single kiss could have wrought such a change. He sought to gain a solution upon sientific principles, and was ready to believe the theory of the eminent Baron Reichenbach, that the fames described by ancient poets as hovering on the lips of lovers, were his newly-discovered aura, and that te reser. voirs or nudcei of this subtle fluid lay quite as much, in- deed more, in the lips than in the hands ; but what of it? let it be so, and how was he benefited?" Love," says Xenophon, " is a continual assault," and so Mr. Argyle found it. He had begun to teach Meda, as we have already advised our readers, the Assembly's Shorter Catechism-of all compendiums of Bible truth the best! It was a hard task to teach Meda. She was not an apt scholar, and then her questions were sometimes so perplexing, that Mr. Argyle gladly turned them aside, wandering away from the subject under consideration. Indeed, it must be confessed, that he was making far greaer p rogress in the mystery of human love than Dleda was in the fundamental truths of the Christian faith. One of the first results of the disturbing infuence of : the presence of Lord Hempstead was, that Mr. Argyle * See Researches in Magnetism, by Baron Reicheubach; trans- ated and edited by Prof. Gregory, Edinburgh, 1848. I iated- " "S,.!I OINDUUTU' OF' MARY. ARG E. was for ever being piqued about something so secret as never to be guessed. Meda was most careful, of her de- portment, and constantly sought to win his sympathy, by referring to him in all their conversations, for his views and his judgment. Yet, ungrateful man! he was curt in his replies to Meda, and affected the utmost indifference when she was most interesting. He would stay at home when all were going out. If Meda, with a sweet ex- pression of solicitude for his health, went up to Mr. Argyle, and, placing her hand on his shoulder, asked, "Are you sick?" he would reply brzusguely, "Never better in my life." Mr. Argyle thought his conduct very distressing to somebody; nor was he mistaken: it was intensely so to himself. Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd read him like a book. The count and Elvira showed no sign, but Meda was evidently at fault. She expressed to Mrs. Lloyd her fears that Mr. Argyle had received some bad tidings from home, which was the cause of his unhappiness, and sought to know what it could be. Now the truth was only this: Mr. Argyle was striving to make every body sympathize with him, and was wretched to his heart's content. Not that he was entirely unsuccessful in disturbing the joyousness of his friends. As for my Lord Hempstead, he knew nothing of the party beyond what presented itself, and to him, Mr. Argyle was one of those impracticables, who always attend pleasant parties of tourists, and whose vocation it is to be a marplot, to the annoyance of their travelling companions. "If you want to be miserable, make up a party for the page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 MBItMAERYING TOO LATE. Continent, and stick together for six months ;" so thought Lord Hempstead as he saw lr. Argyle looking dark as a thunder-cloud, while all about him were doing their best to rise above the depressing influence of his sulky discon- tent. Alas for Mr. Argyle. CHAPTER VI. "OVE EXPERIENCES OF MR. ARGYE.-LORD HEMPSTEAD S STORY OF IIIS INVESTMENT IN ARKJANSAS BONDS. WE have spoken of Meda's love of music, and the evening concerts of our travellers. No one had taken such delight in these as Mr. Argyle. When they reached a city where they found a piano, a new pleasure attended him in listening to Meda's performances as a pianist, which were wonderful; bVt her voice was still the chief charm of their musical meetings. In flexibility, tone, and compass, it was perfect. And now that Lord Hempstead had joined them, his noble basso formed the complement -required for a quartette. Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd were charmed by it, and complimented Lord Hempstead with the truest satisfaction; but to Mr. Argyle's ear, he spoilt all the beautiful harmonies in which he took part. Mr. Argyle's pipe was entirely put out of tune. He had been in the habit of putting in a note or two, when airs were sung with which he was familiar, singing a strain here and page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54 MARRYING TOO LATE. there (straining himself no little in doing so), thus showing Meda his ability to sing if he could only be persuaded to do so. But never a note of his now! Lord Hempstead's voice was so round and true, that the dubious quaver of Mr. Argyle's deepest notes (very like a grumble to other ears) sounded discordant even to his own. There were times when the foul fiend pinched Mr. Argyle so hard, that he was compelled to leave the quar- tette party, and betake himself to solitary walks. The darkness-of night was more congenial to his soul than the lighted saloon. Then it was. that the days of his youth were brought to his mind, when he was considered the best singer in Doctor Auchmuty's singing-seats. "Ah!" sighed he, "had I but followed the promptings of my heart then, I should not be left to the pangs of hopeless love now!" Then it was the image of sweet Alice Graham, who stood next to him in the church-choir, rose up to his mind. He remembered her fond looks, and that it was currently reported that she had died of love. Indeed, Alice's nurse had said "Robbie Argyle was responsible for her early death." And then followed his reminiscences of Mary Scott, who next took his fancy, and filled the place made vacant by the death of Alice Graham. She sang like a bird; and such music'! None of your " operatic gems " in those days-no! no! but Arnheim, Blendon, Canter- bury, Bath, Old Hundred, The Sicilian Mariner's Hymn (not Mrs., Hemans' Popish hymn to the Virgin), Winter, Bermondsey, Wantage, Jordan, Dundee, and the like: and for " occasional pieces," "Vital Spark, or, the Dy- ing Christian's address to his Soul," "Behold, I bring MR. ARGYEIS EARLY LOVES. 55 -you good tidings," "' The voice of my beloved." The thought of this last pastoral lyric, drawn from the Songs of Solomon, made him almost beside himself. How vividly did he hear Mary's solo,--"The voice of my beloved, be- hold he cometh, skipping upon the mountains, skipping, skipping, skipping, skipping," (her voice rising like the lark, higher and higher, clearer and clearer into the heav- ens!) skipping upon the mountains, leaping upon the hills; " and how his heart responded to the notes! Then, too, that sweet strain,--"As the apple-tree, the apple-tree, among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons; so is my beloved among the sons;" and how did his , heart now sicken as he recalled Mary's pathos in singing, "Stay me with flagons; comfort me with apples; for I am sick, for I am s-i-c-k--for I am s-i-c-k-sick of love." "That strain again! it had a dying close!" Then it was, indeed, the food of love to Mr. Argyle, as now it was of despair. Lovely girl that she was! how was it that the glances of tendernesss she shot at him when sing- ing this melting solo, failed to reach his icy soul? Alas! those days of early manhood could nevermore return; and with the consciousness of having disappointed the fond hopes of a score of lovely girls, many of whom had since become loved and loving wives and happy mothers, here he was, solitary and alone, surrounded by strangers, the victim of misplaced, unrequited, hopeless, hateful love! "Why had he not married?" it may be asked. Be- cause the one great idea in his father's mind was, that his son should make a good match. The want of money was page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 56 MA RYIN TOO LATE. the obstacle in all hisearly loves. Besides, he had im- bued his son with the suspicion that he would be sought only because of his wealth. This was still the lion's shadow which lay in his path. It was still a money ques- tion in his mind; but now it was not so much wealth that he cared for, as what would be said by his family and friends at home. Though marrying for love may be for- given in a young man, it is regarded by the shrewd and wealthy as nothing short of insanity, in a man of Mr. Argyle's years. Such was the condition of this most excellent gentle- man's cogitations, when a little incident poured a flood of light in upon hig mind, which, while it resolved this doubt, helped to sink his soul into the depths of despair. The travellers were in Florence, assembled in a spa- cious saloon of their hotel for breakfast, when Lord Hempstead's servant brought in the English mail. Tak- ing for his own reading the Court Journal, he handed the London Times and Morning Chronicle to Mr. Argyle and Mr. Lloyd, while Meda and Mrs. Lloyd amused themselves looking over the numbers of Punch. The count was left quietly drinking his coffee. "Have you any interest in English stocks, count?" asked Mr. Lloyd, laying the paper upon his knee. "Yes! What have you for news?" "There is a fearful revulsion both in England and the United States. The Bank of England has put up the rate of interest to six per cent., and every species of stock is tumbling down at a sad rate." The count looked up with an air of the utmost indif- :* "OJRD IEMPSTEAD'S STOERY 07 ference. Mr. Argyle, who had his eye upon him from the instant the inquiry had been made, thought, "Ah! I see how it is; he is not a man of money' I' When Meda, evi- dently interested in the conversation, and surprised at her father's manner) asked, "Father, did you not invest largely in English funds while we were there last May?" The count replied, "Yes! my dear; I had the pleasure to purchase certain stocks held by our friend Mr, Argyle, through my banker, and I shall consider myselfa loser, when, by some convulsion of nature, England sink]s be- Heath the ocean; and not before.' "I hope, count, you have none of your funds invested in stocks belonging to the States," said Lord Hempstead, "or it may chance' to be true of you, as it has been of myself. When I thought only of buying, I was most cer- tainly sold." '"Indeed,' said Mrs. Lloyd, "I am sorry to hear it, How did it happen?" "It was the first and the last of my operations in stocks. I thought I was extremely clever, and I could have sworn I never made a safer bargain; but now I know, no man could have made a worse one." "Pray tell us your story, my lord," said lDirs. Lloyd. 6 We Americans are somewhat sensitive on this score.' "O madam, my story is a very short one. I was born a younger son, and my hopes of title and fortune were two remdves distant, so that I have had a painful experi- ence, in my college days, of; what it is to be a hopeless junior. "Some' ten years since my maternal uncle, whose name page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58 MARYaLNG TOO LATE. I bear, dying, left me nearly a hundred thousand pounds, of which some forty thousand were in cash funds. Now you know, when a young man has such a lode of wealth at his command, he has the greatest number of amiable friends ready to show him how he can double his money by the safest investments. I had all sorts of bonds and schemes submitted to me by the most disinterested bro- kers and bankers. But I said, 'No! I will invest my money only in the most unquestionable stocks.' That I was flush, was well known; but then I never played at ^ cards, kept no racers, and was as circumspect a young gentleman as His Majesty-God bless him --has in his dominions. And such was my reputation for morality and prudence, to say nothing of my new fortune, that I found myself of some consideration in the very best circles of our nobility. I had any number. of invitations during the summer, and six invitations in town, for every day during the dining season. So much for the prologue; my dear ladies and gentlemen, now comes the play. A man about town-I won't speak his name-who wore a smooth face, is very highly connected, and bears the title of Right Honorable, though Hknow him to my cost to be a most successful swindler, came to my rooms at the Albany, and after the morning news, and chit-chat about the ladies of : 'our set,' said, ' I have just been investing all my spare cash in stocks, and here are the certificates. My banker says it is the best investment now in the market, and I advise you to look into it. He has a pile of it left, and I think it is worth your attention.' He talked on in this ,ay for some twenty minutes; and offered to stow me the - W.,. **a STORY OF ARKANSAS BONDS. 59 certificates; but I declined to examine them, telling him I did not like to send my money out of the country, and that I had already-various offers from bankers to sell me the State stocks of Massachusetts, New York, and Ohio. I confess to you I knew nothing about these States, their relative wealth and solvency, and I declined all such proposals. But this honorable gentleman, who was acting the stool-pigeon, insisted I should see his banker, and to get rid of him, I consented. "The next day a very respectable gentleman called, and sent up his name and the card of my friend, saying he I had called by request. On being shown to my chambers, he presented to me an American, who, he said, had the sole agency of the stock in question for the London mar- ket. This person was uncommonly clever. He was very modest in the opening of his conversation, begged permis- sion to show me the certificates of the State of Arkansas, all very nicely engraved: then, the act creating the loan, duly authenticated by State seals; and also letters of credentials from the highest official authorities, showing that he was the agent for the sale of these bonds. I looked on very quietly, for I had seen documents of this sort before; but when he showed me indubitable proof that the Lord of the Treasury of the United States, under the authority of Congress, directing him to invest the bequest of James Smithson to the United States in the safest of State stocks, of all other stocks in the market, had made an investment of this sacred bequest in these very Arkan- sas bonds at one tenth of one per cent. discount, my atten. tion was caught. What better evidence could I ask? and page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 MARRYING TOO LATE. then came the offer to sell me 330, 000 dollars worth of these bonds for my forty thousand pounds. It seemed to me-a great sacrifice, but the pressure in the money market was then, as now, very great. "I went to my bankers and laid the matter before them. They had it under advisement for a week. They knew but little about Arkansas, and as for myself, my geography at Oxford, though critical as to the ancient Greece and Rome, never came down to modern times. We all thought the act of the first Lord of the Treasury was conclusive, and ought to be satisfactory. They advised the purchase; and the American agent for the State of Arkansas got my pounds sterling, and I his State bonds, which I have learned, to my cost, were not worth one pound'sterling at the time the Lord of the Treasury made the investment. This act of mine was a sad blow to my budding hopes, for a union I had in contemplation was broken off for ever." Mr. Lloyd replied: "My lord, I regret extremely that you have-been misled by the conduct ,of one of our cabinet ministers. Your astonishment at the investment made of Mr. Simithson's bequest is shared by many among us. It is a mystery of iniquity never yet brought to light. The golden guineas had hardly touched the bottom of the treasury vault in Wall street, before they were plundered by political sharpers. It was, indeed, a severe operation." "Very severe, indeed," said Lord Hempstead. "May I I ask what has become of the institution? Is that as baseless as these bonds?" * f,1' 'THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION. 61 "No, thank God! Congress has recently* assumed the payment of the bonds-and has constituted a Board of Regents, who are to erect a suitable building, in which they are directed to gather a great central library, and cabinet of natural history, and a gallery of art, making it for the States what the British Museum is to England." "That is extremely well," said Lord Hempstead. "I hope the plan will be faithfully carried out." And here the conversation ended, and was soon for- gotten byfall but Mr. Argyle. Not that he cared for the fate of the Smithsonian Institution. He was thinking of having met the count at the banking house of Baring Brothers & Co., and that Meda was an heiress. Alas so much the worse for him. If she had been poor, she might have been dazzled by his wealth. He had often sought to interest her by telling her of his spacious man- sion id New York, and all its splendid appointments. But it was evident that Meda had been from infancy accus- tomed to magnificence, and was utterly unconscious of the worth of money. And so it was, Mr. Argyle's soul sank within him like lead in the waters. NOTE.--On the 4th Sept., 1838, Mr. Secretary Woodbury purchased of Corcoran and Riggs, bankers, $500,000 of Arkan- sas Bonds, paying out of the Smithsonian Bequest, received into the Treasury on 1 September, 1838, the sum of $499,500e '* August 10, 1846, page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] MR. ARGYLE'S RECOLLECTIONS OF HIS EARLY LIFE. MR. ARGYLE retired early on the evening of this day to his room, but not to sleep. In his robe-de-chambre he sat upon the balcony of his window overlooking a beautiful garden, and watched the motion of the trees, and the glinting of the dog-star seen through the leaves. The night was pure, soft, and warm. He had no power to sleep, and yet he felt the overpowering influence of night, bathing his senses in sweet semi-consciousness, filling his soul with tender thoughts, first of Meda, and then of his early days, and the love of Mary Scott. Perhaps, in all his varied experiences, Mr. Argyle had never come so near making an offer of himself as to Mary Scott. She was the only daughter of a retired merchant, Captain Malcom Scott, who had been content with very moderate gains, most of which he had invested in open fields, lying up the island, and which he regarded as sure to enrich him beyond all success likely to follow mercan- tile adventures. This conduct Mr. Argyle regarded- because hehad been taught to do so by his father-as little short of insanity. The old captain had already lived to see his hopes fully realized. Lands he had purchased by the acre he now sold by the lot, and for a sum larger than the acre had cost him. And his daughter Mary, whom Mr. Argyle's father once regarded as having no preten- sions to be counted an heiress, was now accounted rich among the wealthy. Mary, at the time of which we speak, was beautiful in form and features: Her complexion was the purest red and white; her ripe, ruddy mouth, was full of the finest teeth; and then, too, her smile was so good-natured, evinc- ing the happiest temperament. After the sad death of poor Alice Graham, Mr. Argyle was, for a time, rather avoided than sought. Her vAcant seat in the choir had been filled, long before her death, by Mary Scott, because Mary's voice was pre-eminently the leading soprano, just as Mr. Argyle's was the leading tenor. Of course, they stood " at the head of the singing-seats," as such places of distinction were then called in village and city choirs, and thence their propinquity was both necessary and natural. There were many little courtesies exchanged, as is usual among " head singers." Sometimes a sweet rose was presented to Miss Mary, who in exchange handed Mr. Argyle a pink of exquisite beauty and fragrance. When the winter came, and the choirs were practising the next Thanksgiving-day anthem, there came a fall of snow, which led to an excursion-up the island. Now the choir was collected in one great sleigh, page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] " MARRYING TOO LATE. except Mr. Argyle, who sported a sleigh of his own, with its rich and ample robes of fur. On this night the ther- mometer stood below zero, while the stars were winking with the cold. Mr. Argyle called for Mary Scott, who came out, led by her father, and looking as beautiful as an angel of the truest flesh-and-blood species. The driver, upon the word "Go," cracked his whip, and the span of horses sprang forward to the music of a hundred little bells which covered the harness. The old captain then hurried into the house to tell his dear good wife how sweet a sight it was to see, and in their hearts it was a settled matter, that they should soon hear from Robbie a request for Mary. Indeed, if he was not now doing his best to win her love, they did not know what courting meant nowadays. In the mean while, Mary was serene, and confident that all these courtesies could only end in one way. But warned by the fate of Alice Graham, she would not lose her own self-control. Every possible opportunity had been afforded "Robbie " to tell his love, if he had any love to speak of, but no. disclosures were ever made. His father had determined in the opening of spring to send his son to Scotland on a visit to his uncle McGregor. Mary's mother gave a little party to the choir the evens ing previous to Bobbie's departure. It was a grand party, and Mary never looked so beautiful, never sustained herself so sweetly, but all in vain. Mr. Argyle departed, and made no sign. Mary was not left long to mourn in silence the absence of an admirer who was as mute as a stock-fish. Archy MacAlpine, a fine young Scotchman, full of energy and A --l eij RMARY SCOTT MARRIED. 65 enthusiasm, had been a spectator of all that we have described, with a heart full of longings to change places with Robbie Argyle, but he dared not to stand forward as the rival of the son of the father in whose house he was employed as chief clerk. But no sooner was Mr. Argyle gone, than Archibald came forward and declared his long- cherished hopes, making the offer of his whole soul, in a way that met all the wishes of Mary Scott. At the end of a year, Mr. Argyle returned and found Mary Scott a bride, and her husband already doing a good business on his own account as the agent of Glasgow merchants. MacAlpine had a wall-pew to the right of the Rev. Dr. Auchmuty's pulpit, of all pews the one best seen from Argyle's pew. There Mary sat beside her husband, wearing her happiness in every expression of her beautiful face. Nor was her husband les demonstrative - of his pride and joy than was Mary of her entire content- ment with such a husband. The father of Mr. Argyle died soon after his return from Scotland, leaving his son vastly wealthy, after bestow- ing legacies, large indeed, but far from satisfactory, upon his daughters, who had adopted American ideas with reference to the laws of primogeniture. The senior Argyle had shown himself loyal and true to Scotland. Indeed, the old gentleman was very much of a royalist all his life, and sang the old Jacobite songs with the enthusi- asm of a cavalier of 1745, while he was a Cameronian in his Presbyterianism. But this odd contrast may have arisen from the feeling that it was aristocratic-to be a royalist in New York, and then it was gratifying to his pugnacious page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " MARRYING TOO LATE. temper to resist the least change in the doctrines and formulas of the old kirk of Scotland, whose wretched version of the Psalms he held up against Dr. Isaac Watts' Psalms and Hymns with a zeal worthy of a better cause; and though the superiority of Dr. Watts prevailed in the church at last, he never would sing a line of them. We have stated all those particulars of the senior Mr. Argyle, because, in a good degree, they were the charac- teristics of his son; modified, indeed, by his wider range of observation and superior education. In consequence of the decease of his father, Mr. Argyle left the singing seats to take the head of his father's pew. To him this was " a dreadful post of observation," from whence he -could not-rbut see Mary Scott in all her loveliness as a wife and mother. It was, indeed, a sweet sight of a clear, cold, winter's sabbath-day morning, to see Mary Scott, with her four boys and six daughters, walk up the broad aisle. The little ones in their white muffs and tippets, and scarlet cloaks, streaming up the aisle, followed by the graceful forms of girls, each a little taller than the other, and these followed by the oldest boys, lithe and bright-looking, with their heads bravely set upon their shoulders; and then came the happy father with a proud bearing, as if conscious he had done the state some service, followed by his sweet wife, now a noble figure richly clad in costly furs over a cloak of satin, and worn with the grace of a queen in her robes of state. Mr. Argyle fancied he saw a smile upon the fair face of Mrs. MacAlpine as she passed him, sitting, solitary and alone, in his large pew, whenever she led up a new i PARENTAL TRIALS. 67 "toddler" to be seated at her side. But he had his revenge, and sought consolation in thinking what a time MacAlpine must have of it! with the cries of so many children; teething, weaning, spoon-feeding -when infants; and then, their diseases as children, measles, scarlet-fever, varioloid, small-pox, infantile remittent fever, worm-fever, these for certainties: then, perhaps, convulsions, curva- tures of the spine, and a nightly alarm about croup, making a man's sleep like that of a sentinel sleeping at his post; and besides all these, there- were pleurisy, putrid sore throat, dysentery, jaundice, not to speak of ring- worms or scald-heads. Not that MacAlpine's children had any other diseases than those common to infancy, but it pleased Mr. Argyle to make himself familiar with the diseases of children, for the sole purpose of comforting himself that he had never brought into this world any poor little ones to suffer unspeakable miseries, besides planting thorns under his own pillow. But Mr. Argyle's cup, long since brimming, at last ran over. And it happened on this wise. He had been absent for the summer and fall upon his farm of Hope- dale in the vicinity of Adirondack mountains, and re- turned late in November. It was a glorious Lord's day morning, and the church was crowded with a congrega- tion once more assembled from all the various sections of the country and foreign lands- At home " for the winter. Mr. Argyle, on taking his seat, observed the silver basin was placed upon the Communion table. He noticed it, because he had a feeling of aversion to being present when infants were baptized; not but that he was a most page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] MARRYING TOO LATE. S earnest advocate for infant baptism, but he could see no reason why a congregation should be annoyed with crying children, nor did he like to have the public services pro- longed. On this morning the old Doctor Auchmuty had preached a weary, long, dull sermon, and as he closed the Bible, he said, "Let the children now be presented for baptism;" whereupon two nice nurses came up the broad aisle, bringing two of the bravest-looking boys eyes ever looked upon. The nurses stood just at the door of Mr. Argyle's pew, when Mr. and Mrs. MacAlpine rose and came out from their pew, once more to claim these twins as theirs. Mr. MacAlpine took one of the boys, and Mrs. MacAlpine the other, and with a proud look bore them up in front of the minister. There was a hushed feeling of profound interest felt all over the church to hear what names should be given to these twins. The boy held by Mr. MacAlpine was named Thomas Chalmers; when Mrs. MacAlpine presented the other, the minister leaned over to catch the whispered name, and with a smile of pleased emotion, the old man stood up and in a tone of unusual clearness, spoke out the words, "Robert McGregor Argyle! I baptize thee in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen!" When Mrs. MacAlpine turned to bring her boy back to his nurse, Mr. Argyle, who, with all the congregation, was standing, made her a low bow, whereupon she held up her boy to him for a kiss, which was impressed fervently and with deep emotion. As th6 soft sweet skin of that' lovely boy-baby was pressed by his lips, tears started to his eyes, and Mr. Argyle sat down in the corner of his pew "OST OPPORTUNITIES. when he ought to have continued standing up during the last prayer; and when that was over, and the minister, in place of the usual hymn, gave out the long metre Dox- ology- "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow," Mr. Argyle, though he rose to his feet, was unable to raise a single note. The next day two gold cups, beautifully engraved, and two heavy silver porringers, bearing the names of the boys, as "The gift of their friend, and the friend of their father and mother, Robert McGregor Argyle," were laid upon the centre table of Mrs. MacAlpine. From that day the kindest relations of friendship were renewed. Our readers will pardon this digression, which is requisite for their perfect understanding of the story we relate. They will see the nature of Mr. Argyle's bitter recollections of his early days. Let our readers take warning that, if they fail to follow the generous promptings of early love, the golden opportunity will never return. Human love and love divine have each their day of grace, when we have but to ask and receive; but that day of grace, that golden opportunity unimproved, and the high- est happiness of earth is gone. How great a loss to lose the crown of the life that now is! How-much more terri- ble to miss the blessedness of life eternal! Most men and women who, from ambitious or merce- nary motives, fail to secure the joy of this life, make ship- wreck of their future and eternal destiny. Let our readers think of this; let them recall their own observar tions, and decide for themselves. page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] OHAPTER VIII. OUR TRAVELLERS ARRIVE AT ROME. "ET us return to our travellers. At the close of a lovely day, they reached their hotel in the Piazza di Spagna, where suites of rooms had been procured for the count and Meda, and Mr. Argyle and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, by Felix, who had been sent in advance from Florence to make all requisite arrangements at Rome. Lord Hemp- stead left them to join his friends, Lord Howard and Col. Orchard, at the Hotel des Iles Britannigues in the Piazzi del Populo-greatly to the comfort of Mr. Argyle. Their several suites of rooms were on the same floor and in the same wing, on opposite sides of the passage. They were spacious and handsomely furnished. They had sleeping apartments in the story above. The count and Meda, on reaching Rome, so far separated themselves from "the Argyle party," as to have their own table. They, however, met every morning and afternoon. The count placed them under the care of Felix, as their cicerone, for SIGHT-SEEING IN ROME. 71 which he was everyway competent, and advised them as to the occupation of their time for the day. ThQ count was usually away after night, and then Meda was certain to come into their parlor; nor would she permit herself to be called for by her servants. She felt herself happy when they gathered around her to tell all they had seen, and expressed their regret that she had not been of their party. She, too, greatly regretted her inability to gratify their wishes and her own, tut in Rome, she said, her father never permitted her to go out unaccompanied by himself, even for a ride with Elvira in their own carriage. Mr. Argyle and his party saw every ruin, every arch, pillar, bridge, temple, church, cathedral, basilica, bath, palace, museum, college, and villa, in -and about the city of Rome, and all in six weeks, spending a day in the cata- combs, and making themselves masters of all the various schools of painting, so that they were all able to tell a painting of Caracci from one of Caravaggio, as far as they could see it-with a catalogue in their hands. It was very diligent work, indeed, and required them to get up early and hasten from one object to another, so it was not to be wondered at that they could not, by the time they reached home, speak confidently of any thing they had seen at Rome or anywhere else. Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd hoped this ceaseless occupation of theirs would help Mr. Argyle out of the labyrinth of perplexities into which he had been plunged since meet- ing with Meda. It did so for a time; but toward the last week of their stay, he would excuse himself from attend- 4 page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 12 . GMARRYING TOO LATE. ing them on a visit to a palace, or a gallery of pictures, and they were sure on returning to find him making a call on Meda. Poor man! he had his sad experiences. Meda had many callers, all of them foreigners in the regard of Mr. Argyle, not one of whom would speak English un- der pain of death. Meda was embarrassed in receiving Mr. Argyle when such visitors were present. She was no less embarrassed when such visitors called and found Mr. Argyle with her; and so it was, Mr. Argyle was compelledl to leave, or to feel that he was de trop in the regard of Meda and her friends. One day, when Mr, and Mrs. Lloyd proposed to Mr. Argyle to ascend the cupola of St. Peter's, he begged them to excuse him, and returned to the hotel, for he had a little gift for Meda which he thought would please her. The parlor-door of the count's suite was ajar, and he entered. The adjoining room was Meda's music room, which had in some sort the sacredness of a boudoir. He heard a voice in pleading tones speaking in this inner apartment. O, what would he have given to have upder- stood Italian! These tones changed from entreaty to menace, and were replied to by Meda, in her clear, soft voice, seemingly anxious to soothe her visitor. Poor Mr. Argyle I he was in a bad box-an eaves-dropper, who gath- ered up nothing. He retired and closed the door; and, as he had nothing else to do,-in fact, could do nothing,-he walked the passage, waiting to see who came out. Here he stood sentry a full hour, when a priest of the order of Jesuits passed by him, and knocked at the count's parlor door. This was opened by Elvira. Through the open MEDA AND THE DIGNITARY. 73 door he saw, standing near Meda, a church dignitary of twenty-five, to whom the Jesuit made a profound bow, and delivered a note, with the servility of a Greek slave of the time of Juvenal. The dignitary, bowing to Meda for permission, opened the note and glanced at its contents. Taking her hand, he kissed it with lover-like devotion, and coming out into the hall, he saw Mr. Argyle standing in the open door of his own parlor, doubtless betraying his interest in what he had seen by his looks. The visitor shot at him an eagle's glance as he passed onward, followed by his servitor. Meda, bowing to Mr. Argyle, closed the door, so signifying her wish to be alone, to his utmost an- noyance, but he was soon relieved by receiving from her a message, asking the attendance of his party that evening, to witness, with her father and herself, the sunset from Monte Pincio. It was a glorious sight, and all the world was there; the count had the arm of Mrs. Lloyd, and Meda had the arm-of Mr. Argyle. Medals beauty attracted the gaze of every passer by, but her air of unconsciousness was -per- feet. She saw only what she pointed out to Mr. Argyle and Mr. Lloyd, who were at her side, or what was pointed out by them. She was playful in her remarks, in fine spirits, and buoyant with the excitement of the scene, which was full of splendor on every side. The air was pure as. ether, and the majestic dome of St. Peter's glowed with the flames of the setting sun. The next day, the count wished them to go with Meda and himself to see a picture in the church Trinita de Monti, of which he had spoken. After entering the 4 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 MARRYING TOO LATE. church, a Franciscan monk, about thirty years of age, came forward, and asked to be permitted to show them the church. Meda, who held the arm of Mr. Argyle, grasped it, as if terrified by his approach. The count, speaking in Italian, with a look of recognition and a frown, declined the courtesy. Mr. Argyle turned inquiringly to Meda for an explanation, but her emotion was gone, and she had nothing to say. During the visit, at every turn, Mr. Lloyd and Mr. Argyle, saw this priest gliding from pillar to pillar, as if keeping their party under strictest survei- llance. From this church they went to other public places, for the count was entirely at leisure, and seemed anxious to be permitted to spend the morning with them, and wherever they went they were followed- by the Franciscan, who was for ever crossing their pathway, and shooting glances of fiery hate at Meda, which never failed to startle her, until Mr. Argyle asked for an explanation. "Some member of the police," suggested Mr. Lloyd, looking to the count for correction. "He is very harmlessly engaged," said the count in a quiet,' even tone. "Should he annoy you hereafter, I will see he is carefully provided for." This said, all further inquiry was dismissed. CHAPTER IX. THEY VISIT MEDALS NUNNERY.--ADVENTURE OF MR. ARGYE WITH A ROMAN BISHOP. AMONG the visitors to Medals parlor, whose frequent calls attracted the attention of Mr. Argyle, was Monsi- gnori De Gorni, a man of thirty, who was believed to have free access to the ear of the then Pope, Gregory XIV., and was held-it may have been for this reason-in high esteem by Father Roothaan, late General of the Jesuits. He was a descendant of the famous Cardinal De Retz, whom he was said to resemble in his love of intrigue, while, unlike his great-great uncle, the cardinal, he had, the most speaking, far-seeing eyes. A:t this time he wa:;' an object of suspicion to the Cardinal Ministers; but as he":: was protected by the French Minister and the General of the Jesuits, De Gorni kept his place at Rome, where his skill and tact in countervailing the Austrian predilections of Cardinal Lambuschini, made him an important person- age. There were whispers that he never failed to enlist page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 MARRYING TOO LATE. in his service the most beautiful ladies, and -was especially successful in his admiration of the March6sa d'Orsing, whose near relationship to an eminent cardinal was very much in his favor. The Monsignori de Gorni was very intimate with the count, and, in a platonic way, an admi- rer of Meda, who had introduced him to the Argyle par- lor, where he frequently spent an hour or two of an evcning. At one of these visits he proposed to Meda and her friends to visit the nunnery where she had spent more than two years, saying, the new lady abbess had expressed a wish to see her. The invitation was gladly accepted, and the count coming in, they all agreed to go the next morning. The day was delightful, and Mr. Argyle had the dear delight of driving out Meda in a cabriolet he had bor- rowed of Lord Howard. The nunnery stood on a beauti- ful elevation commanding a view of Rome, the Campagna, and the Sabine Hills. The extensive grounds were enclosed with a high wall, giving it the appearance of an American penitentiary. While standing before the iron-studded gate, waiting for admission, Mrs. Lloyd remarked to Monsignori de Gorni, "If the life of a recluse is so de- lightful, why surround them with such walls, and make their homes look so like a prison?"Meda, with a look of archness to her father, replied for the Monsignori, "These are not built to keep nuns in, but to keep lovers out." The count made no response, and there was no smile or frown upon his face to help Mr. Argyle to guess the meaning of Meda's reply; as for the Monsignori, he i MEDA VISITING HER CONVENT. " said smiling, "Prenez garde, mademoiselle. You must not tell tales out of school" The bolts were now heard being withdrawn, and the two-leaved gate of entrance was opened wide. The lady abbess came forward toward the gate, attended by two nuns. Her graceful bearing, her air of dignity, and her surpassing beauty of countenance at once riveted their attention. The Monsignori ran in and offered her his hand, leading her forward to the gate. Meda was first presented and most graciously welcomed. This over, Meda ran to the nuns, whose greetings showed their hap- piness once more to meet their former companion and friend. Mrs. Lloyd was next presented and courteously received. The abbess then came to the verge of the gate- way, and, in the perfection of amenity and condescension, was presented to the count, and Mr. Argyle and Mr. Lloyd. She conversed with them awhile, and to the com- pliments of the count she responded with a smile of pleasure. Returning to the city, the count, who rode with De Gorni, on entering his carriage, took leave of the Argyle party, having a visit to make in another direction with the Monsignori. Meda was in the finest spirits, and entered the hotel with the buoyancy of a girl of fifteen. With a skipping, dancing step, she preceded Mr. Argyle to the count's par- lor, where Elvira met her, and delivered a message of some sort in Italian. Meda's countenance changed, and giving her hand to Mr. Argyle, who was following hard after her, she said, "Adieu! I will see you an hour hence." page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78' MARRYING TOO LATE. This was a wet blanket to the ardor of Mr. Argyle, who had been making some very near approaches towards a declaration of some sort, and who had contemplated a tete-a-tete with Meda in her own parlor on their return. There was now nothing for him to do but to go and dress himself for dinner. This done, he came down into his own parlor, which was vacant, Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd being in their own room. Looking at his watch, he found an hour had passed; and as he could do nothing else but cross the entry, the door being ajar, he pushed it open; and, behold, there sat Meda on a sofa, the prince of the Church on a stool before her, holding her hands, his face flushed with passion, and Medals cheeks wet with tears as she struggled to get her hands free. The dignitary rose to his feet, his eyes kindling to a flame as he -glared upon the intruder, who stood in doubt whether to withdraw or not. Seeing Mr. Argyle standing thus dubious, he rushed towards him impetuously, and, gesticulating fiercely, rattled out the most discordant tones Mr. Argyle had ever heard. It sur- prised Mr. Argyle that/a language deemed the only fitting vehicle of love and music, should afford so many harsh- sounding words. He had not a particle of fear of the man, but he seemed to have, from the shrinking manner he wore, inspired by his great modesty and the refinement of his nature, lest he had, most innocently and unwittingly, in the eyes of Meda, been guilty of intruding upon the retirement of her parlor. Finding Mr. Argyle in this state of doubt and immo- bility, the- stranger planted a blow full upon the chest of our excellent friend. This at once restored him to his .] THE DIGNITARY UPSET. . 79' senses, and, with the glare of a lion in his eye, he upset the dignitary of the Church. With one push backward, my lord bishop fell over the stool from which he had risen, and came down upon the back of his skull, with a resonance that made it doubtful if it was as well filled as might have been expected, in one so eminent for station and power. Then, seizing him as if he had been a dog, by the seat of his ample vestures, Mr. Argyle advanced to- wards the open window, and calling out to Meda, asked if he should pitch him into the square. Meda ran and caught the arm of Mr. Argyle, begging him to release the prince. He did so, and retired. Tle look of impotent rage upon this man's face, as he rose from the floor rubbing the back of his head, long lived in the recollection of our friend. Indeed, it was some time before he recovered his equanimity at having received a blow from a miserable wretch of an Italian-prince though he were. page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] CHAPTER X. MB. ARGYE DECLARES HS LOVE TO MEDA, AT dinner, Mr. Argyle told his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, of his adventure, an hour before, in the parlor of the count. They listened with interest, and expressed their satisfaction that he had not pitched the Italian upon the pavement. "I fear, my dear Mr. Argyle, we have made Rome too hot to hold us," said Mr. Lloyd. "What do I care for this man, and his retainers, though they be called Legion," said Mr. Argyle, with great courage and determination. "If they were but devils," said Mrs. Lloyd, "we could, as we are bound to do by our baptismal vows, .re. nounce them and all their works; but inasmuch as they are living men, they are not so easily got rid of. I fear, if we stay here, we shall be treated to a glass of aqua tofano; or, while visiting some crypt in search of relics, you maybe thrust through with the poisoned dagger of an assassin. OUt PARTY PERPtKSJ . 81 And now, dear Mr. Argyle, there's nothing left us, but to hasten away for our lives." "I am sorry to have given you any uneasiness for your own or your husband's safety,? replied Mr. Argyle, u' but I cannot be frightened by such imps of darkness." "My dear Mr. Argyle," said Mr. Lloyd very seriously, ' I fear we shall compromise the count and Meda if we remain here. We have seen all we want to see, and I have said to my wife several times, that it was time for us. to be moving. I have been waiting for you to propose it for a week past--nay, for a fortnight, as for that matter.'" This remark sobered Mr. Argyle in a moment. Then it was that the embarrassment which his method of treats ing a Roman prince might occasion to the count, came full to view; and what was he to do? Leave Meda for ever! These thoughts kept him silent during the dinner, and when the dessert had been placed on the table, the count, with Meda, entered. The facts of the case were frankly related to the count by Mr. Argyle, who said he regretted the event, if it should in any degree compromise him and Meda, and then added, W' We were just speaking of our departure from this city for Naples." "My good friends', said the count, bowing, "I shall greatly regret your departure, and as the best thing left me, I beg you will accept our invitation to spend a week at my casing, on the shores of the Gaeta, not far from Terracina. Meda and myself will go with you any day you may select." Meda was very earnest in her entreaties that they 4* page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 -MARRYIG TOO LATE. should accept the invitation of her father, and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd expressed their pleasure to do so. Mr. Argyle had not spoken. He did not like being beguiled from Rome, even by Meda. It was too much like flying from fear. But he read in Meda's face an expression of anx- iety and hope that he would accept; and as the thought came into his mind that he would have one more week with Meda in the country, and alone, his face brightened up from a heavy frown to a happy smile, and he said, We will be off to-morrow, if you so please.' The count replied, he would be ready the day after, and begged them all to observe the -utmost secrecy as to their movements. Turning to their own servants, who alone were present at their meals, when they wished to talk without the- supervision of those who might be spies of the police, the count said, "I have no doubt your ser- vants will keep this purpose of ours a secret."' They silently bowed, and Mr. Argyle said he would venture his life upon their fidelity. So it was settled they were to leave Rome the next day but one. The count rose, and offering his hand to Meda, they withdrew, Meda evidently longing to remain. The next day was spent in visiting, for the last time, the Colosseum, the Forum, St. Maria Maggiore, St. John Lateran, the Vatican, and St. Peter's; and at the hour of sunset they ascended for the last time the magnificent stairway, leading out of the Piazza de Spagna to Trinita de Monti, to see the sun go down from the terrace of the Pincian Hill. This done, they returned to receive Lord Hempstead, Lord Howard, Colonel Orchard, and Meda, A WOMAN'S INTENTIONS. 83 who, by invitation, dined with them on this their last day in Rome. Before these gentlemen left them, cards were exchanged, and promises made of a renewal of their ac- quaintance at London or New York as it might chance to be. Mr. Argyle was very bright at this last dinner party. It had been with him altogether a bright day, for the pro- posal to go to the count's casing was a reprieve. He had almost made up his mind to adventure in the lottery of matrimony, with little hope of winning the prize. Per- haps it was this very incertitude which led him on; for it must be said of Mr. Argyle, as of many other gentle- men in like states of dubiety, certainty would have had no such magical influence as this very incertitude. This. is a mean and strange anomaly. Though women have never been distinguished for their attainments in the science of metaphysics, they attain, by intuition, to a reach and power of perception in matters of the heart, which no great doc- tor of intellectual philosophy ever dreamed of, much less analyzed and portrayed. Shakspeare has said, "From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire ; They are the books, the arts, the academies, That show, contain, and nourish all the world; Else, none at all in aught proves excellent." X Mr. Argyle was not willing to separate himself from Meda, without carrying with him the consolation that he had done what he could to win for himself the love of a * Measure for Measure. Act IV. page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84: MARRYING TOO LA TE. being whom he felt to be so eminently fitted to grace his now solitary palatial mansion, and to make him happy. The count had made all the preparations requisite for their departure. Their bills were paid by Mr. Lloyd in the morning, and, to the surprise of the household of the count, at daybreak they were roused, and ordered to pack up for an instant departure. These preliminaries had been attended to by the servants of the Argyle party the day before. The morning was very beautiful and life-giving. A heavy rain had fallen during the night, and all was fresh, glad, and inspiring. The vehicles were at the door, and every trunk in its place by six o'clock. They had breakfasted by seven, and were on the steps of their hotel, ready for departure. The coupg of one of the two diligences had been claimed by the count for Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd and himself, the servants occupying the inside of the coaches. Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd had taken their seats when Meda and Elvira appeared. Meda smiled at the earnest- ness with which Mr. Argyle told her of the arrangements made with the count, and that she was to share the coup6 of the other diligence with him, as a punishment for not being at their breakast table on that morning. Meda, aided by her father, readily mounted, and was followed by Mr. Argyle, leaving Elvira standing on the steps, with a frown upon her fine face as she saw her presence was not desired. The count solved any questionings of her mind by turning to Felix, and requesting him to seat Elvira in his diligence, which done, he mounted to his seat beside Mrs. Lloyd, leaving Elvira to such society as the interior of the coach afforded. OUR TRAVTtrFLLERS LEAVE RO . 85 Having cleared the city, Meda found topics of conver- sation in the various objects of interest they were pass- ing, and which she pointed out to Mr. Argyle, who saw them for the last time. This done, to use the familiar phrase of friends, Meda " sunk into silence," from which no effort of Mr. Argyle could rouse her. "Tell me, Meda, who is that ecclesiastic, and what of him?" asked Mr. Argyle. "He is a priest, a bishop,7 said Meda, with emphasis. "Some day I will tell you all about him, but not now ;"' and -Mr. Argyle, seeing Meda had no wish to the pressed by any inquiries, contented himself as best he could. The road lay along the Appian Way, through Albano, Gensano, Velletri, and Terracina. Here they found a lunch awaiting them through the care of the count, who had sent forward his man, Juan, the day before. They dined with all that due deliberation with which dinners ought ever to be eaten; and, on setting out afresh, Mr. Lloyd claimed Mr. Argyle's place beside Meda, which he relinquished with more cheerfulness than Mr. Lloyd'had expected: the truth is, Mr. Argyle was a little weary of Meda. On the contrary, Mr. Lloyd found Meda a most delightful travelling companion, She was full of enthu- siasm as they traversed the road along the winding shores of Gaeta, nearing the home of her childhood. Leaving the main road, they ascended a long acclivity of a mile or more, when they reached table-land, and came in sight of the count's casing, whereupon Meda clapped her hands to her servants seated in the rotunde of the diligence ahead. page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 MARRYING TOO LATE. It was just dark when they reached the casing, which was brilliantly illuminated. It was a centre building, with a portico and wings. So perfect were its proportions, that its size was not realized till you entered its lofty and spacious hall. In this hall was a table, covered with a service of gold and porcelain. On all sides were pictures, vases, statuettes, and mirrors. This was the breakfast, dining, dancing, and music room; in a word, the room of the house. In one wing opening from the hall was a billiard saloon, and in the opposite wing, a library and cabinet of art. This was the count's own room. All the rooms were lofty, and beautifully painted in fresco. The chambers were in like manner as perfect as taste and art could make them. Indeed, every comfort was here provided which is required for a country-seat in the climate of Italy. Servant men in rich livery, and maidens prettily dressed in white, stood awaiting the coming of the travel- lers. When Meda descended from her cotpe, they sur- rounded her, and her own delight was hardly less -than theirs. This was certainly the most satisfactory expres- sion of Medals character that Mr. Argyle had yet' seen; and in this both Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd concurred. The count invited his friends to a drive with him the next day, leaving Meda at home. They returned at four, and found Meda ready to receive them. They sat down to dine at five o'clock, and nothing could be more perfect than their dinner. Four days had passed, and Mr. Argyle was just where he was when they started from Rome. The villa, which THE ORDEAL OF LOVE. 87 seemed the very place for his grand demonstration, afforded him none of the opportunities he had hoped for. At last he determined to compel the occasion which would not come of its own accord. He rose early from his bed, after a night of long and wakeful cogitation. He had made up his mind for the crisis, and this done, he wondered to find how quiet his nerves were. He ceased to doubt; he ceased even to think; he had now only to act. A peace of mind to which he had long been a stranger filled his soul. At the breakfast table, his serenity and buoy- ancy of spirit were apparent to all. And here we will say, for the enlightenment of any of our readers who may be beginning life, that love has its hard tests. There are sacrifices to be made; plans to be laid aside; proud self-seeking aspirations to be relin- quished. The one object of desire is to be weighed against many countervailing, adverse, and, it may be, weighty obstacles-prudential reasons, perhaps; but, when the soul, sure of itself, is equal to all sacrifices of self, then these lions in the path are found chained to pillars, or disperse like phantasms, whose only end has been to show the docility of the heart, willing to give up all for love. And it is a certain truth, that those who have had no such conflict, have little appreciation of what those enjoy who have passed the fiery ordeal in safety. The refiner of silver, we are told, sits watching the process of the fining-pot; and when the scum which rises and clouds the surface is all swept away, and he sees his own image reflected upon its brightness, then his work is done. Mr. Argyle, for the first time in his life, felt himself tending page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 MARRYING TOO LATE. to a declaration of love, with a soul unclouded by a doubt of what he wished and willed to do. ; Having dined, the count and Meda led the way to the portico as usual. Mr. Argyle asked Meda to walk with him, which she at once acceded to, followed by Elvira. "I have something to say to you, Meda," whispered Mr. Argyle, " and beg you will send Elvira back to the house."." Meda looked at Mr. Argyle inquiringly. There was something in his tone which riveted her attention. "I will, by and by,"' said Medalas Elvira came up to her side, and they ascended together a steep knoll on which a beautiful summer house was built, enveloped by climbing flowers. . When they were seated, Meda quietly requested Elvira to go back for a scarf, and to return to her with it--' not immediately," added Meda, with much precision of man- ner. Elvira felt it, and showed by her look her surprise and some little pique; but there was no resisting Meda when she willed to be obeyed, It was no longer the girl, Meda, ready to relinquish her wishes at the slightest sug- gestion, but Meda the mistress, the lady, whose very look was law... As soon as she was gone, Mr. Argyle, with the greatest simplicity and naturalness of manner, seated him- self beside Meda, and took her hand in his. There was nothing in all this to attract the attention of Meda, for he had done so many times, "Meda," said Mr. Argyle in a cheerful tone, "I have sought this interview to say I love you. I cannot leave you without telling you I love you. You may deem MR. ARGYE S DECLARATION. .89 me mad, but-here I am for the first time in my life making a declaration of love; for till now I have met with no Meda Montaldi; and now I ask you, will you become my wedded wife?" Meda looked at Mr. Argyle as if she were entranced. She spoke in low tones, trembling with emotion, "And do you say this to me! Is it Meda Montaldi you love? Tell me it all again-I have listened, but 1 do not know what you have said. Tell it all again, " and Meda's voice thrilled the soul of Mr. Argyle. "Again! Meda, yes! every day and hour of my life, and never find words to express all my love." We dare not, task the patience of our readers further. Mature men are always fluent. When they set about making declarations of this sort, they have no reserve, no pride left, but rather hope by their earnestness to con- vince and captivate, and by their very susceptibility and passion to give proof of their capacity to love. "It is so sweet to hear you tell me all .this,' said Meda dreamily, after listening for Some twenty minutes, with her head reclining on the shoulder of Mr. Argyle. "I have had many professions of love made me, but never from one whom I felt I could trust with the entire aban- don of my being. No one has ever addressed me to whom I could listen without a cold chill of distrust; but you I can believe: . do believe. You do love me. Yes! and yet I wonder how it can be, that I have inspired love in such a heart." "And will you love me, Meda?P "I do!" cried Medt. page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 MARRYING TOO LATE. There is nothing like propinquity in matters of this sort, as Mr. Argyle and most lovers have found out by experience. To Mr. Argyle it was worth the life of half a century to have reached the summit of such blessedness. He ceased to speak, and for how long a time he would have, lived in this sublime forgetfulness we cannot pre- sume to guess. It is always happy for such persons to be relieved from this trance-like condition by some such cataclysm as the fire falling down, threatening to consume the hearth-rug, a knocking at the front door, or the cry of a baby in the next room, or, as it was now, the re-appear- ance of Elvira with the scarf. Meda caught a sight of Elvira ascending the hill, and with her crimsoned cheeks she went to the door and received the scarf. Elvira delivered a request from the count that she would return to the house. With xreluc- tance they returned, and there sat the count and Mr. Lloyd quietly smoking their cigars, showing that no such message had been sent, and that thus it was Elvira showed her spitefulness of temper. When the stars were shining in their beauty, Mr. Argyle led Meda, Eve-like, " nothing loath," to an arbor upon the lawn, where they seated themselves. Meda spoke. "I have lived an age since we separated, and I want to tell you my thoughts. I have been thinking how very strange it is that you. should love me. Not that I doubt it. O no! no shadow is over me to dim the brightness of my joy. But I am an Italian girl, with an Italian education, tastes, and, it may be, prejudices. I cannot change my nature by changing my, climate, my MEDA'S MSGIVINGS. 91 country, my home. I must be Meda, whether my name be Montaldi or Argyle. I have thought of your circle of friends. How will they welcome me? Will they not repel me, perhaps hate me, and raise up evil surmises about me, saying,' I had by unmaidenly arts and devices inveigled you into loving me?' Yes! there are some who will do so. I know they will; but," here Meda, rising, with a proud gestare, said, "I care not for such; but what I cannot do, is to live without your love; for if I were to be given up by you, a prey to the poison of calumny, I should be struck dead by a single suspicious look;-" and she sunk to the seat, and was most lovingly folded to the bosom of Mr. Argyle. Meda continued: "Let me be strong in your heart, and the world cannot move me. Re- member these words which it is maidenly for me now to speak, but which, as your wife, my'proud heart might never allow me to recall. Remember this hour, when the day of trial shall come, as come it must, when I shall meet the ordeal of a foreign social life." "Meda," said Mr. Argyle, "I pledge you never to doubt a love which gives up all for me." "Dear Argyle, there is one thing I cannot give up, and it pains me, for I find I cannot rid myself of it." "Pray, Meda, what is it? You need not fear to ask any thing from me." Meda mused awhile. I cannot tell you. You will tell my father of your wishes, and I will tell him the only obstacle I have to offer. If this can be assured me, I leave all else to him, and to you. I have nothing then to care for. But now we must return." So, taking his arm, page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 MARRYING TOO LATE. with buoyant steps they walked into the lighted hall, where sat the count with Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, engaged in con- versation. The evening passed away charmingly. Meda was full of gladness. She sang nothing but gay songs and comic duets with her father, while Elvira played the accom- paniments; and then it was not merely the singing of the duo, but it was beautiful to see her perform the piece as sung in opera. Nor was the count less in the vein than Meda, so that they continued thus to amuse thbir guests till a late hour. It was far into the mists of daybreak, before Mr. Argyle could calm himself to sleep. For the first time in his life he felt it a joy to live. Waking, he reviewed all Meda had said; every look was recalled; and when, at last, sleep came, he'slept to dream of Meda. ,/ CHAPTER XI. MR. ARGYE'S INTERVIEW WITH THE COUNT.--THE FRAN- CISCAN ATTEMPTS TO ASSASSINATE MEDIA. AFTER breakfast, Mr. Argyle had an interview with the count in the library. He listened to all Mr. Argyle had to say with a placidity which was really painful; but it saved that gentleman from making a fool of himself; and afterwards he was grateful to the count for that stolidity, which acted like oil on the tempest of his emotions. The count asked Mr. Argyle of his fortune, his relatives and their expectations, and of the grounds of these ex- pectations; and, it must be acknowledged, these topics acted very like a sedative upon Mr. Argyle. While Meda was telling him of her fears, and the obstacles to their union, Mr. Argyle felt as courageous as Mark An. thony; he was willing to lose a world for Meda,'and be content to lose it. But not so now. He was m ade to feel the condition of his affairs and of his social relations, and that there were obstacles, great obstacles, to be met, both page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] " MARRYING, TOO LATE. by Meda and himself; and that at home this marriage would be looked at, as such unions too often are, as a naked money question: nor was he thus far allowed to guess even at Meda's fortune. When the count had thus broken his victim upon the wheel, and tortured him to the utmost, he said, "Meda does not need, and will not need, any thing from you, as your wife, Mr. Argyle. Her dowry is ample to meet every expense incident to herself, and for such additional charges to your establishment as her taste or convenience may demand." Here Mr. Argyle inter- rupted the count, saying in the most earnest manner, doubtless heightened by what he had just heard, that his own fortune was too large for him to consent that Meda should share with him in any expenses incident to their union. The count listened politely, and replied calmly and with great precision of manner, "It must be under- stood and agreed on at this point, that my daughter shall have full and entire control of her fortune, with liberty to spend it in any way she shall see best for her own happiness, or in the cultivation of her love of art." "Certainly," said Mr. Argyle. "That, then, is agreed upon," replied the count. ' Now, then, as to your fortune. This is ample. If Meda were an Italian princess, she could not wish for more. My proposal is thisg that you shall endow Meda and her children with half your fortune, and I will endow her with a like sum. Is that agreeable to you, sir?" "Perfectly so!" cried Mr. Argyle, delighted with what he had heard, for it took from his heart a great weight; not that he was mercenary, but then his family might be. MEDA S SINE QUA NON. 95 "It will be well, Mr. Argyle, to reduce this conversa. tion to writing; and, as I do not understand such matters 71 O not understand such matters, will you do so at your onvenience? I know of nothing more, unless it be, that if I giveup Ueda to be your wife, I ask to be taken along with her, and that Elvira and Felix accompany their mistress. Indeed, this is a sine gua non with Meda, in making this treaty of alliance; and I was charged by Meda to arrange a matter of some delicacy, which, for her sake, will now state. it is a matter, which, had she wedded a gentleman of Sicily, or Italy or rance, or Spain, would not have suggest ed iself as a barrier to be surmounted; but ed a is Italian by birth and education. Her fortune and future destiny are the last and least considerations with her, but this is both first and last, and the only one." Mr Argyle's heart beat heavily oppressed with in. certtude. "I beg, count, you will state at once what all this means.' The count smiled, his eye shining like a diamond, and with an expression which did not at all please- Mr. Argyle; it was cold, cynical, and all but contemptuous, certainly not at all complimentary, for it seemed provoked by his earnestness. I Heda dema nds,for h erself and Elvira, a suite of apartments as her own." Mr. Argyle, not fully comprehending Meda's demand, looked for an instant ver y blank , a s if am azed; but c atc h- ing an amused expression in the eye of the count, he burst out into a fit of e xplosive mirth, in wh i ch th e coun t joined heartily, and so this dreaded interview came to a happy conclusion to a happy page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] 96 ^ARuRYImG TOO LATE. The tidings of his success was at once communicated by elr. Argyle to Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, who were both aston- ished and gratified. Meda was sought for, and received their congratulations with the prettiest blush that ever flushed a maiden's cheek. But what was a source of joy above stairs, was a source of gloom to otters. The looks of Elvira and Felix were both significant of their discon- tent, and it grieved the noble heart of Mr. Argyle that there could be no happiness unalloyed. The paper which the count had requested Mr. Argyle to draw up, was submitted to him the next morning. It was as full of endearment as the last will of a dying hus- band, whose life has been the martyrdom of a devoted wife, and who thus seeks to obliterate his sins by honeyed words. The count, as he read it, smiled, and suggested that in matters of this sort, the clearest expression of the intention is all that is required. So saying, the count ruth- lessly struck them out. It was but a memorandum, for it could not be otherwise, made at the villa. Copies of the paper as amended, were made out and signed that day in the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, Elvira and Felix, as witnesses. This done, they began to discuss their plans. The marriage was to take place on the Tuesday of the coming. week, and Father Valenziani, an old priest in the neigh- borhood, was to perform the marriage service. The bridal party were to go direct to Naples, thence by steamer to Toulon, and thence to Paris, where the count promised to join them. Meda, with a childlike joy of heart, com- menced her preparations. She had boxes and trunks, in ! MB. ARGYES COGITATIONS. 97 which she occupied herself and her friends, the maor domo of the villa, and Elvira, Felix and Juan, in packing up cabinet pictures, statuettes, books, and all the infinite variety of vertu, which she had collected from childhood. Mr. Argyle was employed to make memoranda in a book of the contents of each box. It was delightful to his friends to witness his happiness. His imagination was busy, picturing Meda the presiding divinity of his home; and especially did he love to dwell upon the grace with which she would walk up the broad aisle of Doctor Auch- muty's church, and take her seat at the head of his spa- cious pew. O how he would enjoy the surprise of Mary MacAlpine and her husband; and how, if he should become the father of twin boys, he would call one Archi- bald MacAlpine, and the other after himself. But time would fail to tell of all the visions which swam in the brain of our worthy friend. It was a long future of un- speakable delight. There was nothing now impossible, having attained the love of Meda, the angel for whom he had so long waited. A lovely sunset had filled the sky with glory. It was the last that Meda would see from the home of her child- hood for many years; perhaps the last sunset she would ever see behind those distant hills and woods so dear to her. It had been a day of in-door effort, and her travel- ling trunk alone remained open. * As they rose from the dinner table, Meda asked Mr. Argyle to go with her once more to the summer house. Meda and Mr. Argyle were sitting silently, w atch- /) page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 MARRYING TOO LATE. ing the hues fading from the clouds; and so dream- ily were they gazing on the declinng day, that,/uncon- sciously, the .dusk of evening was upon them, when a shriek from Elvira was heard. A man masked, with a drawn dagger in his hand, sprang towards Meda, who started aside, as the assassin, with gleaming eyes, advanced to strike his dagger into her bosom; when Mr. Argyle ,caught his wrist, and wrenching the dagger from his hand, hurled him down the flight of steps. Before he could rise, Mr. Argyle was upon him, and felled him to the ground. The cries of Elvira brought up the count, Mr. Lloyd and Felix, who seized the stranger. The mask had fallen from his face, and the Franciscan monk stood before them. He shook his fist at Meda, and speaking in Italian, said " she should not escape him. He would pursue her in life, and, dying and dead, his ghost should hover around her pathway, He would sink with her into the flames of hell, for ever to torture her for all she had made him suffer for her sake." It was well Mr. Argyle and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd knew nothing of Italian; as it was, his wild looks and language seemed to them the ravings of a madman. Meda, in great distress of mind, fled to the villa, fol- lowed by Mr. Argyle and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd. It was a - long time before she could recover her self-possession. Indeed, a horror seemed to take possession of her; and instead of a night of gayety, as they had hoped, all was gloom. Meda was carried up to- her room; a power- ful anodyne, prepared for her by the count, was adminis- tered, and she was left in charge of Elvira. TEE ERAICISCAN MONK. 99 The party below stairs broke up at an early hour, and every one felt relieved when they were alone in their rooms for the night. It was certainly so with Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd. They had often remarked this Franciscan monk prowling about their hotel in Rome, and wondered what motive he had in watching them so elosely when Meda was with them, and never coming near them at any other time. As for Mr. Argyle, he only thought of Meda. The monk might be a spy or a madman; but the query, if one or the other, why he was the assassin of Meda, did not come up to his mind, as it did not fail to do in the minds of Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd. lie only recalled all those dear expressions of Meda as she descended the hill calling himher preserver, her good angel. With such thoughts, thanking God that this was their last night in Italy, Mr. Argyle fell asleep. page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] C HAPTER XII. MR. ARGYE MARRIES MEDA.-OF MEDA S DIAMONDS. WITa the first twitter of birds, Mr. Argyle rose, glad to see the day dawning free from all clouds. - It was an omen for good. Having dressed himself, he descended to the hall, where he found Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd all ready for departure. The ceremony was to take place in the library at seven o'clock precisely, and after breakfast the party was to leave for Naples. Elvira brought a card from Meda to Mrs. Lloyd, say- ing, she was perfectly restored by her night's sleep, which was delightful news to the group. Mr. Argyle waited for Meda's coming- with a patience truly edifying in the judg- ment of Mrs. Lloyd, who called her husband's attention to Mr. A. as a model man. In the hall the breakfast was all in readiness; and certain movements in the library, such as rolling of tables, heard through the door, indicated to the outsiders that the pre" parations for the great -event of Mr. Argyle's life were in MR. ARGYE MARRIES MEDA. " progress; and we will say here, to the credit of this gen- tleman, that his heart never palpitated. His days of indecision were past. He possessed in this great crisis, which once would have been-to him like laying his head on the block, an entire serenity of soul. The golden bell of the pendule of the hall had struck eight before the count, with Meda, entered. Meda wore a dress of white satin covered with lace, and looked the impersonation of an angel of light. A few diamonds shone from her dark, rich, clustering hair, like stars glow- ing through the rent clouds of night. Having exchanged their morning salutations, the count led the way into the library, where stood a temporary altar, beautifully adorned with vases of flowers. Tall wax candles were burning before it, and in the centre stood a statuette of Christ-on the cross. The servants, in gala dresses, were waiting to witness the ceremony. The ceremony was performed by an old priest richly dressed. It was fortunate for Mr. Argyle that he was rusty in his Latin, and that-the old father recited what he had to say with an accent unlike what Mr. Argyle had ever heard before; for, if he had understood perfectly all he then and there promised to perform, he might have paused. As it was, he bowed his head affirmatively when- ever he was expected to do so, and in his heart promised to be a good Christian husband, which, in his judgment, comprehended all the claims the art of man had elabo- rated. On returning to'the hall/the guests were served with breakfast; when Meda, excusing herself, withdrew with page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102 MARRYING TOO LATE. Elvira. The count, acting upon advice as old as Homer, sought how best to speed the parting guests, and made himself more than usually agreeable, even though they were bearing away with them his only child. He said he must remain behind them a few days or weeks, and go back to Rome with this poor monk, who was, in his opin- ion, a hopeless maniac. Our friends were glad once more to be by themselves. It was a relief to Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd to leave the count behind; for to them he was a mystery. Though they had known him intimately for some time, they knew nothing more of him than he had seen fit to reveal. Of Meda they were sure. She rarely volunteered to speak of her- self, yet she always replied to all inquiries as to herself with childlike simplicity. She lived in the present, and never was there a creature so trustful for the future, or so forgetful of the past; making the sunshine of her own heart felt by all about her. On the count's withdrawal, Mr. Lloyd, with a glance at Mr. Argyle, said to his wife," My dear, what a happy man!" "Happy! my dear Lloyd," said Mr. Argyle, advanc- ing, and offering both his hands to his friend,-" happy is not the word, nor do I know the word which can express -the fulness of my joy. I ask myself whether I am awake, fearing it is some long trance; but if this be a dream, I hope never to be awakened. Let me sleep on, and sleep for ever." "You are happy now," cried Mr. Lloyd, " but when you have had MacAlpine's experience, you will be both a. wiser and a happier man than you are even now." MR. ARGYE'S' HAPPINESS COM5PLETE. 103 These words awakened old trains of thought in the brain of Mr. Argyle, who laughed boisterously at the humor of his friend. Men laugh easily when excited, and Mr. Argyle was now in the very vicinage of the sublime. Meda soon reappeared with her father, followed by Elvira, in their usual travelling costumes. She looked the Meda of Chamonix and the Righi, now the wife of Mr. Robert McGregor Argyle, of the city of New York. On the portico stood the servants in silence, to take leave of Meda, whose warm, affectionate caresses, and ten- der farewells, bathed them all in tears. She commended them each and all to her father's care. With many tears and adieus they saw her depart. As honey-moons and wedding-tours are no novelties, we shall not attempt to describe what has been, or we hope will be, speedily realized in the happy experience of our readers, including all the Argyles of the present day. The happiness of Mr. Argyle, in the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, was perfect. He was possessed of the love of a being of singular beauty, varied accomplishments, and the most perfect manners. The young and the old, the reverend and the gay, were alike conciliated and pleased with Meda's reception. It was not art, not the result of any training, but the intuitions of a soul keenly-alive to existence. Towards her "Caro," as she familiarly called Mr. Argyle, her manners were akin to those of a daughter and of a wife-combined with an ever-varying grace. In- deed, even in the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, ,Meda's page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 - M- ARRYIN TOO LATE, expressions of her love were so childlike and innocent, that Mr. Lloyd was able to read his morning paper at the breakfast table, and drink his cup of coffee in undisturbed serenity, without so much as one wish to pitch Mr. Argyle out of the window. Not a single gift would Meda accept of her husband, while they promenaded along the shops of the Palais Roy- ale, attractive as they are to most brides, and so dear to their new-made husbands. Nothing more costly than flowers would she receive at his hands. In the ordering of her wardrobe, nothing could exceed the beauty and severity of her taste in the .making up of the most costly fabrics. Nor was Meda satisfied to select dresses for her- self; at the request of Mr. Lloyd, she made up a full wardrobe for Mrs. Lloyd, who was most happy to have this great task thus taken off her hands. A month-the limit they had set for staying at Paris- had nearly expired, when letters came from the count, saying, he was detained in Rome, but would be with them in Paris at the end of the next month. There was a post- script about Medals diamonds. This letter, on breaking the seal, as was her custom, Meda handed to her husband to read. Mr. Argyle, having read the letter aloud, seeing the postscript, handed it to Meda, and asked what it meant. Meda told him, that when she was in Paris last, the family of Duchaine hiad offered a portion of their fam- ily-jewels through Lcamarche, to her father, but he regard. ed those she then possessed as all that was fitting she should wear as a maiden, and declined the offer, promising her a full set when she should become a wife. That on MEDALS DIAMoNbS. 105 her engagement he had written to Mons. Kramer La, Roque to make a careful examination of their value; and if satisfied, to reset them according to a drawing he en. closed in his order. Nothing more was said at that time by Mr, Argyle, He was content with the diamond of a wife he possessed, and whom no jewels could enrich, nor did he feel that -Meda required any jewels to adorn and enhance her love4 liness. It was a matter that did not concern him, and it was at once forgotten,--4soon, however, to be resumed; for the next day Meda invited them to accompany her to her jeweller's, and see her diamonds which were being reset, On reaching Rue St. Augustin they entered the splendid shop of Mons. La Roque, and were ushered into a room beautifully furnished. Here it was Mons. La Roque, in person, brought the casket made to contain Meda's dia. monds, when completed. They consisted of a necklace and cross, bracelets of diamonds for the wrist. The tiara for the head was alone wanting; The brilliancy of the dia-- monds in these ornaments, as they lay upon the rich vel- vet cushion, was dazzling. Mons. La Boque presented Meda with a schedule, showing the exact size and weight and market value of every idiamond, as made out by Mons. Lamarche and himself. Meda, with a powerful glass, examined every diamond separately. She objected to one as imperfect, and demanded it to be taken out, and a diamond whose facettes and purity suited with the oth- ers to be put in its place, To this Mons. La Roque obj jected, claiming the exact fitness of the diamond to its place; whereupon Meda displayed a skill in such matters 6* page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 MA/URYING TOO LATE. which not only astonished Mr. Lloyd, but won the highs est meed of praise from Mons. La Roque, who confessed himself satisfied with the correctness of her views. It took two hours for Meda to go through her scrutiny. She said she would examine the calculations at her leisure. She then marked the rejected diamond on the schedule and the drawing attached; and when all this was done, and with the extremest care and exactitude by Meda, Mrs. Lloyd asked Meda to put them on to gratify her and Mr. Argyle. "Do, dearest I " said Mr. Argyle, with enthusiasm. Meda consented, and the effect in heightening her beauty was felt -and applauded both by Mr. and Mrs, Lloyd and Mons. La Roque; as for Mr. Argyle, his ad- miration made him silent. After showing them by vari- ous graceful movements of her head in walking and in'! dancing, Meda requested Mons. La Roque to relieve her of them; and while he was so occupied, Meda discoursed on the -economy of wearing diamonds; for, she said, a lady in diamonds of the first water could wear a dress of half the cost of another lady, whose diamonds were either small or of doubtful value. Then, too, diamonds never wear out; they are always in the fashion; and a lady cannot but feel assured of her position in society, when her diamonds are of the highest value;-views which Mrs. Lloyd at once endorsed, and smiling, with a glance at her husband, said to Meda-- "Dear Meda, please convince my husband of all you say." This topic was renewed by Mrs. Lloyd that day after ECONOMY OF DIAMONDS. 10T dinner, for she was quite of Meda's way of thinking as to the economy of wearing diamonds. "Shall I not be a bride you will be proud of, Caro!" cried Meda, placing her hand upon Mr. Argyle's, who sat beside her looking into the grate with the vacant air of one who was thinking of two things at once; "-shall I not make some folks stare?" "You will dazzle them alike with your beauty and your diamonds," replied Mr. Argyle. "My diamonds! Yes, they will stand any -scrutiny. I mean they shall stand the test of all lights with un- dimmed lustre.'" "They cost a fortune in themselves, Meda," said Mr. Argyle. "Cost a fortune! Yes, it may be so, but what is it but laying. up a fortune in diamonds? They do not be- come worthless, like bonds and consols; but when such creations of paper and ink perish in the flames, or become worthless, or are lost, then the wife has her diamonds to give back to her husband in proof of her superior-love;- to him a richer joy than prosperity in all its fulness could ever afford." "But, dearest Meda, these diamonds are dead capital; they bring you back nothing," said Mr. Argyle. "Nothing, my husband!" and placing her hand under his chin, and with a pretty air of reproof, Meda, in a tone of tenderness, said, ' Is nothing brought home to your bosom when you see your wife standing in a circle of well-dressed women, shining like a star of night, glorious and resplendent, 'the observed of all observers?:' Is it page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 108 MiARYING6 TOO LATE. so, that my husband will take no delight in what costs his- wife so much time, and thought, and trouble to attain; and shall I never wear, with pride, what I had hoped would have inspired in your heart both pride and plea- sure?" and this said, Meda hid her face in Mr, Argyle's bosom. Meda spoke with a warmth of feeling very touching to witness, both to Mr. and Mrs; Lloyd. As for Mr. Argyle, he could say nothing. His friends, seeing him embarrassed by their presence, withdrew, and the recon- ciliation that followed was enough to make Mr. Argyle love diamonds for all his life. In a few days the diamonds were finished, and Meda was requested to call and see them. The bill of costs was sent up, made out in the most beautiful style of French engraving and ohirography;- for it was a paper to be most carefully preserved. There were separate items of each article, enumerating the value of each diamond, showing a recapitulation in some such form as this: Diamonds purchased of the Executors of the estate of Duke de Duchaine, 490,000f. Agency and resetting of M. La Roque, 10,000 500,000ft Meda, having carefully examined the bill, asked her husband to compare it with the schedules she held; and when this was done, she folded up the papers under the envelope in which they were sent, and replaced them in her travelling writing-desk. COST OF AEDAMS fIAMOmb)s. 109 The days passed away, and no news of Count Mona taldi, Mr, and Mrs. Lloyd grew impatient to be on their way to London, and Meda was evidently disquieted and anxious, :At last a letter from her father came to Meda, saying that he was still detained in Rome, and hoped that Mr. Argyle would find it convenient to pay for the jewels, and he would reimburse him hereafter. Meda had opened and read the letter with eager haste, Her husband, who had brought it to hers sitting beside her, asked for the news, A shadow came over her face, when she had completed the first page. Opening the' sheet, to see if there was any thing written on the inside, and finding nothing, Meda, with a gaze of loving incerti- tude, handed him the letter. Mr. Argyle at once com- prehended the sources of anxietyy and kissing her fair forehead, he said, Medaa don't be anxious about your jewels; they shall be paid for at once, and next wtek we will leave Paris." On entering the room with her husband for dinner, Meda, clapping her hands, ran towards Mrs. Lloyd, and cried, "We leave for London nest week I Are you not glad, dear Mrs. Lloyd? '7 "Delightful news, truly!" replied Mrs. Lloyd. "; When did you hear from your father, Mrs. Argyle--r and is he on his way here?" asked Mr, Lloyd. "' No I ' replied Meda, ' but he promises to meet us all in London." Both Meda and Mr. Argyle were veiryhappy on that day. page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] CHAPTER XIII. MR. ARGYE AND FRIENDS MEET MRS. D OYE, FORMERLY MSS ADELA TRIPP. ; MR. ARGYE waited in Paris only long enough to receive drafts on the Bank of France, from his friend and banker, Mr. Bates, to pay for the jewels. In the mean time, Felix was sent to London to obtain rooms at Mivart's Hotel. The first thing thought of by Mr. Argyle in London was, to deposit the casket of Meda in the vaults of Baring & Brothers. On his way, it occurred to him to call on his friend Bates, and get him to go with him to some lapidary to procure his judgment of their value. It was mere curiosity, but it would gratify him to know that Meda had not been deceived in the confidence she reposed in La Roque. He had himself carefully examined into the right of the executors to sell them, and all the documentary evidence was in his possession, contained in a drawer in the bottom of the casket itself. Mr. Bates received his friend with great -cordiality, and congratulated him on his union. On hearing Mr. J THE DIAMONDS AND MR. BRIDGES. 1ll Argyle's request, Mr. Bates with alacrity agreed to go with him, saying, "I know of a man whose judgment in such matters is beyond all question, and it is on our way down the city, to call there." The person named by Mr. Bates was Heinrich Baum, in the employ of the great jewellers, Rundell and Bridges. On reaching their splendid shop, Mr. Bates led the way to the drawing-room of the firm, and was received by Mr. Bridges with great courtesy. The object of the visit being stated by Mr. Bates, Mr. Bridges expressed his satisfaction in having it in his power in any way to show Mr. Bates his high sense of obligation for his patronage; nor would he consent to any reward being made Mr. Baum for his services. This over, the casket was produced, and the lid lifted. "Superb t " was the exclamation of the jeweller ; and then with his lens he carefully examined each piece and its diamonds: the stamp and -the name of the manu- facturer, and last of all, the name, beautifully engraved on the inside of the tiara, u"MEDA MONTALDI ARG YE, A BRIDAL GIFT FROM HEER FATHER." This done, the jewels were replaced, and Mr. Bridges looked up inquiringly at Mr. Argyle, as if seeking to fix the position in society of a gentleman whose wife possessed such jewels as a bridal gift. "How much can I advance on them with entire safety?" asked Mr. Bates. Mr. Bridges, taking up a pencil and card, counted and classified them, extending their values, and then added up the sum of all. He replied, "I would advise an advance of twenty thousand pounds." , page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 RIRYING TOO tTAtE ' "Is that satisfactory?" asked Mr. Bates, addressing Mr. Argyle. "Perfectly," replied Mr. Argyle. 'I am somewhat surprised, Mr. Bridgesfi' said Mr, Argyle, addressing him. self to that gentlemanj ' at the accuracy of your estimate4 These cost just five hundred thousand francs." "The value of such diamonds is as plain to the eye of a dealer in precious stones, as bills of the Bank of England to our friend, Mr. Bates. The value of diamonds taries very little from the marts of Constantinople, Ispahan, Hyderabad, Delhi, Calcutta, and the shops of London and Paris. These are worthy of a duchess!" "They now belong to no less a personage than a queen of hearts," replied Mr. Bates on behalf of his friend, with a good-humored laugh. Mr. Bridges said he would submit the casket to the examination of Baum, whose report, when made out, he would place carefully with the casket, in their safety vaultj where it might remain, if Mr. Argyle so pleased, during his stay in London. With many thanks, Mr. Argyle took - his leave, i Meda was visited by Mrs. %latesl and other friends of Mr. Argylej residents of London and its vicinage; from all of whom she won golden opinions; Her beauty, mien. I manners, and accomplishments were rather drawn forth - than exhibited, There was a natural and beautiful shyness and timidity indescribably winning, investing her as an atmosphere, so that all Mr. Argyle' friends concurred in saying, that he had placed in his bosom a jewel any man might wear with the fondest satisfaction. ,i THEY MEET ADELA D'OYE. 113 It is always pleasant, and especially so to a timid mnian, to find his choice commanding the admiration of friends. The Argyle party were most kindly entertained by their London friends. Mr. and Mrs. Bates took them to the opera. They had been scarcely seated, when Meda became an object of interest and scrutiny. From the box opposite there were no less than four lorgnettes levelled upon her. Among these, Mrs. Lloyd discovered Lord Hempstead, who bowed, upon being recognized, and whis- pering to the lady beside whom he sat, he rose and left the box, and soon entered that of Mr. Bates. My lord-' was delighted to meet his travelling friends in London; and - on being introduced to Mrs. Argyle, he presented his con- gratulations with such frankness and heartiness as quite won the heart of her husband, who hardly supposed it possible he could have derived any pleasure from meeting the young gentleman who so often had driven him from the presence of Meda into outer darkness. Lord H. asked permission to call on them the. next day, a request most cheerfully granted. "'Who are you with?" asked Mr. Lloyd. "I am with Lady Cavendish and Mrs. D'Oyle, who, I believe, is one of your countrywomen; from your city, sir," replied Lord H., and bowing to Mr. Argyle. "Is it possible? My dear Meda, loan me your glass?" and having adjusted it to his sight, Mr. Argyle exclaimed, "It is indeed my young friend, Miss Adela Tripp. I will accompany you, sir, and speak with her at once;" and rising, he left the box with Lord Hempstead. On entering the box of Lady Cavendish, they found \ . J page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 MABRYING TOO LATE. Mrs. D'Oyle standing, awaiting their coming. Her greet- ing of Mr. Argyle was most cordial and inspiring. "Tell me, Mr. Argyle, who is that beauty in the box with you?" asked Mrs. )'Oyle. "That lady," replied Mr. Argyle, in a tone which spoke his satisfaction, " is my wife, madam." "Your wife! how fortunate you have been, my good friend. And is that Nelly Frazer, that was my school friend at the Spingler Institute?" I "Yes! that is now Mrs. Edward Lloyd of Madison Square. Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd are with me and Mrs. Argyle, and are our companions in travel. We shall all be glad to see you at Mivart's hotel," "Say to my dear friend Nelly, I am delighted to see her, and will call to-morrow at two, precisely, when I hope to be made acquainted with your lady; whom I adopt from this moment as a loved friend." Lord Hempstead asked permission to accompany Mrs. D'Oyle, which was granted by that lady; whereupon, with his acknowledgments, Mr. Argyle withdrew. The next day, Mrs. D'Oyle and Lord Hempstead came at the hour appointed to Mivart's, and were ushered into Mr. Argyle's parlor. Meda was dressed with great simplicity and elegance, and stood serenely the , severe scrutiny to which she was subjected by the wit of Mrs. D'Oyle. That lady made a long call. Her delight at meeting Nelly Frazer was very great; and after an hour's confab, she rose, and taking Nelly's hand, said to her, "I have many things to tell you, my dear Nelly; and you shall spend a day with me alone, that I may ask 'ADELA'S POSITION IN' SOCIETY.". 115 all the questions I can think of, and tell you all you may wish to know." Then, turning to Meda, she+ said, "My, dear Mrs. Argyle, I pray you believe that we are very old friends. I claim to be such with Mr. Argyle, and I can take you to my heart of hearts with the most entire confi- dence, that I shall be greatly the gainer by securing your friendship." Mr. and Mrs. D'Oyle daily visited them, and in every way sought to make their stay in London pleasant. They found D'Oyle living in a spacious mansion, furnished with all the appointments of a house of the first class of English Commoners at Hyde Park Corner. D'Oyle was himself greatly occupied with his duties as chairman of the committee on railroads of the House of Commons, now in session. Mrs. D'Oyle was the mother of a beautiful girl' of four years, and a bright, brave-looking boy-baby. Her position in society, so far as they could discern, stood very high. They met at her house celebri- ties in the worlds of fashion and politics; and they gathered, from all they heard, that Mrs. D'Oyle was already a star of the first imagnitude in the circles of London society. And she certainly merited it, by the abundant resources she manifested in her conversation and conduct. Nor was Lord Hempstead lacking in courtesy and kind attention. He was happy to be the companion of their rides, and secured them tickets to many collections of pic- tures, which they could not have seen but for such per- sonal intervention on their behalf. Meda's manner to my lord, now that she was a wife, was the very same as when they first met. Her bearing was quiet, frank, and re- page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 MARRYING TOO LATE. spectful. beyond that Lord Hempstead had never been allowed; and the same admirable reserve, m'ngled with courtesy and confidence, marked their intercourse now. It was, even in the eyes of her husband, not only faultless -it was perfect. i i CHAPTER XIV. MhS. D'OYES PARTY.-MEDALS MAGNIFICENCE.-THE NEWS OF WHCH REACHES GOTHAM. MRS. D'OYE called one day to invite them to a small party of three hundred of her most select friends, to come off the next Friday evening, and to whom she had prom- ised, so she said, to introduce her lovely friend, Mrs. Argyle. Meda looked to her husband for a response, and he, greatly gratified with the courtesy, warmly expressed his pleasure in accepting her invitation, as did Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd. On Friday, Mr. Argyle withdrew Meda's casket; and after breakfast, Meda and Elvira became invisible to all the world from mid-day till ten o'clock, when Meda came into the parlor in her wrappers and hood; nor could she be persuaded to loosen a pin till she had reached the dressing-room of Mrs. D'Oyle. At half past ten they took their carriages, Mr. and Mrs. Argyle and Elvira in the first carriage, and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd and Maria in page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "8 MARRYING TOO LATE. the second. On reaching Hyde Park Corner, a crowd of carriages showed they were not the first arrivals. Indeed, it was past eleven before they reached the door-step, and near 12 o'clock when Meda and Mrs. Lloyd descended the grand staircase to- enter the saloon, which was already blazing -with the beauty of English aristocracy spendidly apparelled. Meda's beauty and magnificence astonished her hus- band. She smiled at his look of surprise, and giving him her hand, at the entreaty of Mrs. Lloyd, led the way. Mrs. Lloyd, as the senior married lady, could not be per- suaded to claim her rights under so great a disadvantage. They found Mrs. D'Oyle standing, supported by the . great duke. With a look of admiring wonder, she came forward, and received Meda with a demonstration of affec- tion, into which she was surprised, far too genial for the time and place, but which was forgiven by the lookers-on for the splendor of the personage thus received. The iron duke was presented, and welcomed Meda and her party with distinguished courtesy. He introduced Mr. Argyle to Lady Cavendish, who was next him, and asked permis- sion to take the arm of his lady, which was gracefully and sweetly accepted by Meda.1 Mrs. D'Oyle playfully rallied the duke for his readiness to worship a rising star, and under such auspices, Meda became the object of admiration of the gay throng that now filled the rooms. , Her- powers rose with the occasion, for she well knew in whose presence she stood, and the severity of the ordeal 'to which she was subjected. "The duke was[ roused to the zeal of a young aid-de-camp, and Meda met his admiration 3RAND PARTY AT D OYES. 119 with such vivacious pleasantry, as -enabled the duke to keep up with ease the ball of badinage until he was re- called to the side of Mrs. D'Oyle. Supper was then an- nounced, and the duke, leading Mrs. D'Oyle to the supper room, was followed by Mr. D'Oyle, who had Meda on his arm. The supper ended, returning to the saloon, Lord Hempstead requested Meda to dance with him-an invita- tion she at once accepted, and was led by him into the dancing, hall. Her grace and joyousness were a source of the highest grAtification to all lookers-on; and even Mr. Argyle, whose Icruples of conscience did not permit him to join in the dance, was charmed by the loveliness of his sweet wife. It was daybreak when they reached their hotel, and mid-day when they awoke. This, therefore, was Meda's first appearance in fashionable life--an ordeal such as she could never pass through -elsewhere. She had fully sustained herself. Her husband and Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, all united in saying in every thing Meda had realized every hope and met every wish, and more; that never before had she so filled them with delightful admiration ofher loveli- ness; for, till now, her abilities had never been fully called forth. No one was more delighted with the impression made by Meda than was Mrs. D'Oyle. Those diamonds of Meda's told effectively upon the crowd; and being a bride, she had the right to wear them in the judgment of the: seve- rest critics present. Mr. Argyle was at once placed by those present at Mrs. D'Oyle's party, in the rank of his friends, Mr. Bates and Mr. Peabody, as an American banker, whose page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] '120 MARKRYXNG TOO LATE. nobility of heart was seen in the richness of his bridal gifts.- In England, at the present day, pure gold, and a plenty of it, is regarded as a fair equivalent to .a surplus- age of the richest blood without it. This fact was most signally made manifest at this party; for the personage next in importance to the great duke at that time, was a Mr. Henry Hudson, whose sun was then shining upon its meridian, enriching (so it was believed) those whose good fortune it was to share in its splendors: and a vulgar man he was, nor would gilding him have made him any thing other than an awkward golden idol The morning papers contained a glowing account of Mrs. D'Oyle's party, in which the magnificence and loveliness of Mrs. Robert MacGregor Argyle was specially noticed; written, doubtless, by some one of those Ariels of the press, who are permitted to stand in the entry and chron- icle the guests as they descend the grand staircase and enter the saloons. Leaving our travellers to recover from the excitement of Mrs. D'Oyle's party, let us follow the evening papers to the city of New York. Little did the scissors-man of the morning paper forebode the towering wave of wretch- edness with which he was whelming two of the finest resi- dences of the city. Nor did the newsboy, as he ran along the broad flag-stones, realize what a weight of woe he held under his arm, as he threw off a wet sheet to the man-ser- vant of the Honorable James Duncan, who, hearing the cry, "Steamer Pacific arrived! i ran to buy a paper for his master. i FAMTT, SCENE IN NEW YORK. 121 The bell had rung for family prayers. Mr. Duncan had opened the Bible, and looking around, found himself and two chambermaids, only, of all his family, present. Shortly, Mrs. Duncan, a handsome lady on the shady side of forty, made her appearance with two daughters, Nelly and Henrietta, children of ten and twelve years, who, having bade papa "Good morning," took seats beside him; next, Master Richard entered, while the chapter was being read, and the time when Mr. Robert MacGregor Argyle Duncan entered, he only knew, for the family were kneeling as he stole in stealthily, in his velvet slippers, and knelt in time for the recitation of the Lord's Prayer, in which his voice was heard repeating that most complete summary of all human wants, and with which Mr. Dun- can, with admirable good sense (Presbyterian as he was) always brought his extempore prayer to a close. This want of promptitude on the part of Robert MacGregor Argyle was often a matter of reproof, but it had become a habit of his, never to be in time for morning worship. As for Miss Lucretia Duncan, "she had not yet made herself fit to appear,' to use a current phrase of hers, and herself and maid were absent, as was always the case when she had been out the night before. The coffee and tea urns were placed by the waiter upon the table, and the mother and children took their seats, when Mr. Duncan, who was a church-member in good standing in Rev. Dr. Auchmuty's church, asked God's blessing. The words were hardly out of his mouth before Mrs. Duncan, in hot haste, asked her son Robert to give an account of himself. page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] HARRYING TOO LATEl k m1 "Where were you last evening, sir ?" asked the mother. "I was at the Spingler Institute, making a call upon Rachel." " I thought as much!" said Mrs. D., looking at her husband, plainly showing that this had been a matter of chamber coloquy for that morning. " My son," said Mrs. D., addressing Mr. Robert, who was already making some progress with the buckwheat cakes placed before him, I thought you had consented to adopt my views, and give up that most unfortunate attachment. Rachel is a good girl. I love her dearly, and had contemplated her admission into our home circle with real pleasure, although her father did not belong to our set. His fortune was made too rapidly, and, per- haps, not so honestly as might be, but of that, however, I was at the time ignorant. It doesn't do to be too inquis- itive how people come to be residents of palaces in our vicinity; but rs. Nipert has told me, since his death, that he made himself rich out of poor Irish emigrants, whose sufferings on board his ships surpassed all the horrors of the middle passage. Indeed, how could it be otherwise? The poor wretches, dead of starvation, were pitched over- board, and those that lived, ate their only good and suffi- cient meals the two days before entering port." "And what has all this to do with Rachel, mother ? did she know any thing of her father's business ? Is a school-girl responsible for her father's transactions ? Is she not an angel, ten thousand times too good for me! And my only real reason for giving Rachel up, is the very ",-OsF 1IAOHJFT4 RIOAIWIRWON. 323 one which binds me to her for ever-my unworthiness; for if I ever reach heaven, it will be through her sweet influence over me. Mother, you have deserted Rachel at the mo- ment when you should have stood by her. The death of her father left her an orphan indeed. His fortune, how- ever obtained, has all gone, and she has no taint of it rest- ing upon her; and now with serenity of soul, beautiful as it is noble, through the kind sympathy of Mr. and Mrs. Abbot, she has employment as teacher in the Spingler In- stitute. It was Rachel, mother, who last night was talk- ing to me about the sacrifices I was making in still seek- ing her hand, and was only content to let me renew my visits till uncle Robert should return. His sanction will settle the question, and I know him too well to doubt of his approval. If he should fail me, then I shall doubt if there be truth in man; but he will not, and here I rest." "Quite a speech, my son " said Mr. Duncan. Have I said any thing, father, you would wish un- said?" asked, Mr. Robert. "Not one word, my boy. God grant you may be worthy of the purity of such a soul." "God bless you, father!" and the tears rising,,Mr. Robert Duncan hastened to swallow his emotion in drink- ing his cup of coffee. "This is all very charming, upon my word," said Mrs. Duncan; "but, Mr. Robert Argyle, you could not have remained at the Spingler after ten o'clock, and you did not come home till long past midnight. 'Where were you, sir ?" "I left before ten, and went to Gibso 's: and both of page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 MAERYING TOO LATE. us having invitations from Brownem to the great party given by Mr. and Mrs. Newman, we went there about eleven o'clock." "At the Newmans! Pray, sir, who did you meet there belonging to our set?" "No one, mother; but the house was filled with very well-dressed and well-behaved ladies and gentlemen. We had the best of music, a very fine supper, and I danced quadrilles and waltzed till past one o'clock, when Gibson and I left." -"With whom, sir?" asked Mrs. D., with great as- perity of manner. "The Misses Jones, and the Misses Brown, and the Misses Smith; but what Joneses, Browns, or Smiths, I did not ask to know. They were extremely well-mannered and well-dressed, and if they were as well satisfied with me as I was with them, we were alike satisfied with our partners for the dance." "Partners for the dance! No, sir, you are expected to bow to these young ladies at the next concert where you may chance to meet them, or when walking With me or Lucretia, in Broadway." "And I shall do so, mother, should they do me the honor to recognize me." "I hope we shall not have a search warrant sent into our house for the silver forks and spoons stolen by the guests," said Mrs. D. with a sneer. "No fear, mother. Brownem was in attendance to take the gentlemen's hats and coats, and Mrs. Townly did the same for the ladies in the ladies' dressing-room; so PARTY AT MR. NEWMAN'S. 125 those Chevaliers dlIndustrie who plundered poor Mr. and Mrs. Thomson so dreadfully last winter, would have stood no chance of getting out of the house if they had ventured into it. And as for Mrs. Newman, she de- meaned herself with the greatest propriety. Her appear- ance was -that of a well-educated and refined lady; and so far as receiving company, which is all I know of her, she is far ahead of Mrs. Van Scheidam or Mrs. Mynkoop. Then, as for the young lady, the heiress, Miss Eugenie Newman, she was, in manners and appearance, extremely prepossessing. I asked her to dance, and she was pleased to express her regret that she was pre-engaged, and so prettily, that I sincerely regretted my mischance; yet my cleverness in telling her so was not half equal to her replies; It was in itself the perfection of tact." Mr. Duncan was eating his breakfast, perhaps listening to this conversation, or occupied by seeing his children, properly served with theirs, when Miss Lucretia Duncan made her appearance. She had been out two winters, and was as yet unapproachable to all her admirers. Indeed, it was getting to be a question, mooted among the selectest gentlemen of Gotham, if Miss Duncan believed a man existed worthy of her hand-and heart, if she had any. The high value she set upon her. soft hand, thus far, only stimulated bidders to go 0mad with excitement as to who should be privileged to press it, ever so furtively and daintily, through kid gloves, as may be done in dancing quadrilles; for as yet Miss Lucretia had given to no one the distinguishing-honor of encircling her waist in a waltz or polka: not that she disapproved of these dances; only, page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] 126 MARRYING TOO LATE. as yet, she had not seen a partner with whom she was con- tent to trust herself. This young lady was dressed sweetly for the breakfast- table, and was a very beautiful girl of nineteen. She kissed her papa lovingly, her mother dutifully, and then took her seat beside her father. We hope our readers will mark the distinction we have made. Daughters are apt to love their fathers far better than they do their mothers, whose lives are tasked to contri- i bute to their happiness and advancement, because this can- not be done without some contention as to dress, or, it may be, proprieties of conduct; and Miss Lucretia and her mother were far from being a unit in matters concerning herself; and often was her beauty dimmed by the traces left upon her face, by these conflicts in the dressing-room. It takes but little discernment to tell what is the home aspect of a lady, however beautiful she may be in society; for the Creator has made the soul speak in the eye, hover around the lips, and live in the voice; nor can company manners and company tones long deceive. The key-note i is soon caught. There is but one safe rule in order to attain to the highest possible attractiveness. It is to be what we would seem to be. So much before introducing Miss Duncan to our readers. "What are 'you talking about, Robbie Argyle?" asked Miss Duncan, for so was Mr. Robert called by his family. "Your brother has been to another of these parvenu parties," said Mrs. D. briskly. "Indeed!" said Miss Lucretia, in a tone full of MSS LUCRETIA DUNCAN. 127 meaning and reproof, which Madame Rachel herself would have regarded as admirable. "Yes!" continued Mrs. D. "The Newmans, in West Twenty-ninth street, gave a first grand party, and Malcom Gibson and Robert, having received invitations from Brownem, went, and supped and danced with people he never saw before, but whom I tell him he is certain to meet again; and he says he shall certainly recognize them whenever they may meet, even when walking with us." "That being the case, mother, we have only to decline his attendance in public, and I shall do so from this hour," replied Miss Lucretia in a most decided tone. "That is very easy to say, but hard to do," said Rob- bie Argyle. "Why did you not accept Mrs. Tompkins's invitation to a seat in her box at the opera?" said Miss Lucretia. "Angelina was left without an attendant escort in conse- quence." "I did not want to go, sister, for I did not care to see you trifling with the affections of Henry Ten Eyck, a man of modesty and eminent talents; and then, Angelina is, to me, uninteresting." "Ah I that's hitting the nail on the head. It is all because of your hopeless love of Rachel, that Angelina fails to win. Let me ask, my brother, have you ever asked yourself the question, 'Will the love rm only rich in, Light-a fire in the kitchen, Or the little God of Love turn the spit? - page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 129 MARRYING TOO LATE. But why, Argyle, did you go to the Newmans' party? Was there nothing midway between Angelina Tompkins and the opera and Mrs. Newman and her party?" "It is easy, sister, for you to speak thus contemptu- ously of these worthy persons. Mr. and Mrs. Newman have made a fortune-recently acquired, it may be; they have a daughter to be introduced into society, who has been educated for the circles into which their wealth enti- tles her to enter, and for her sake they have made this party. Now, then, I can see nothing pretentious in the parents, nothing presuming in their daughter. Indeed, if their acknowledged worth, and the culture of their child is suited to the circles in which they seek to move, who shall deny them a welcome? And, my dear sister, let me tell you, there's nothing in upper tendom which cannot be acquired in our country female seminaries, except its childish conventionalisms." "This is a question I shall not discuss,' said Miss Lucretia, with some hauteur. "We, brother of mine, have been born to good luck, if you so please, and I mean to keep my position intact." All this while Mr. Duncan was intently occupied in reading the morning Herald. The young children had completed their breakfasts, and, the day being dark and rainy, the carriage had taken them and Master Richard to their respective schools, leaving Mr. Duncan and lady, and Mr. Robert Argyle Duncan and his sister, at the table, to complete their conversation at their leisure. And this was soon brought to an end in the manner related in the following chapter. CHAPTER XV. FAMLY SCENES AT MR. DUNCANS$ "HAH " exclaimed Mr. Duncan, in a tone which at once riveted the attention of his wife and children. He laid the paper down upon his knee, and looked round upon them with a look of trouble in every feature. "Who has failed, father? What has happened in Pine street; have we been burned up?" asked Robert Argyle Duncan. "Pray speak, husband, what is it?" asked Mrs. Duncan. / The maid and man-servant who waited on table were requested to leave the room. It seemed as if the spirit of mischief was in them, for their zeal to make their presence uncalled-for, delayed them for more than a minute, which seemed all but unendurable to Mrs. Duncan and daughter, though they had too much of the discipline of society at command to show any such impatience. So soon as they were gone, Mr. Duncan took up the 6*. page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 130 MAkYINGQ TOO LATE. paper, and read a description of Mrs. D'Oyle's fashionable party, in which Meda, the bride of Mr. Robert McGregor Argyle, and her diamonds, were spoken of. This done, Mr. Duncan laid the paper aside. A great calamity had, indeed, fallen upon Mrs. and Miss Duncan. They ceased to breathe. This brief paragraph tolled the knell of the hopes of a lifetime. Air castles, time-cemented, toppled down in dread confusion. And, perhaps, no event could have happened to Mr. Argyle which would have created so wide a circle of mourners. Had he been lost at sea, his relatives would have been clothed in all the habiliments of woe, and their handkerchiefs would have been held up to their faces all the while the funeral sermon was being preached. But how would their thoughts ]iave wandered from the- sad solemnities of the hour, and how many schem- ing plans for the future would have obliterated the mournful present--plans, long deferred, now coming to their comple- tion. One, thinking of a tour upon the continent; an- other, of a new carriage with patent springs, like Mrs. John Henry Jones's, only far richer. They could, and would have met the blow, however sudden, as such blows are ever met with-with Christian resignation. But here was no mitigation of the calamity. On the contrary, Mr. Argyle was alive, and alive like to be. Indeed, they had not a wish that he should not be, both well and hearty, but he was married I and married to some French woman-- women who never are wanting in heirs to rich husbands. Of course, Meda was a creature, and Mr. Argyle a dupe. They needed nothing more to tell them this, than that Meda appeared as a bride at a London party, in diamonds GRIEF OF MtS. DUNCANO. 131 whose splendor shone across the Atlantic ocean; baleful as a comet prognosticating war, pestilence, and famine. Mrs. Duncan was the first to speak. "My dream is out!!"Mrs. Duncan, from the first, had some strange mis- givings about this tour on the continent, for she dreamed the day before Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd sailed to join her brother, that their house was burned to the ground, and that her brother Robert came to her while she was standing on the opposite side of the street, gazing at the smoking ruins, and in the coolest manner possible expressed his hopes that she was fully insured. "My dream is out!" repeated Mrs. Duncan. "I told you all, that that dream meant something. It was a most remarkable dream, and now you see it has come true." Mr. Duncan now found time to say, " he had fears that something was brewing, for after brother Robbie had left Paris for Rome, he seemed to have forgotten he had any interests to care for at home. His agents, for months, had not had a single line from him. Now this was so very new, for in all his past life Mr. Argyle seemed to take all his affairs away with him, even to the minutest particu- lars." u' Why did you not speak of this before?" asked Mrs. Duncan. "Of what use would it have been, my dear wife?" "I would have gone out myself with Lucretia, and we would have saved him and saved ourselves. :0, Mr. Dun- can, why didn't you tell me of this before! It would have been my duty to have gone out in the next steamer, and I would have done it. It was unkind of-you, most unkind." page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 132 MARYING TOO LATE. "You are making yourself wretched, my dear, very unnecessarily. What is to be will be! we can't prevent it. The fact is accomplished, and let us be content; grateful to God for thegifts of his Providence which are ours. It is all as God wills it, and we must be content." 1"Don't talk to me in this manner, Mr. Duncan. I can't bear it! ' and the tears were in her eyes. "Now, wife! do you not believe ' God foreordains whatsoever comes to pass?' I thought you believed every word in the Westminster Catechism." "I do, Mr. Duncan, and so did Mrs. Lanman, when her son George fell desperately in love with a young Virginian at Washington last spring, whose only dowry was her fine manners' and surpassing loveliness. Did she fold up her hands, and say, ' God wills it to be so, and I can't help it?' No! not a bit of it. She sent for Dr. Franke, who wrote a report of an examination of her daughter Emily's lungs, saying, that she was in danger of a decline, and that no time was to be lost; they must leave for Italy by the next steamer; and George was written for in all haste, and on reaching home, he found his trunk packed, and was hurried on board the steamer the next morning, without leaving him time to think. She took him to Paris, thence to Italy, and kept him abroad till his love fit was over, and he had met Miss Sophronia Richland, to whom he is now engaged, and they are to be married at our Legation on reaching Rome. That's the sort of predestination I believe in; and it is the predestination of common sense." "Now let me ask you, my good wife, how do you know STATE OF THE FAMTLTY.' 133 but that brother Robert has made a match every way worthy of his fortunes?" "Mr. Duncan, you really provoke me, you do! I can't bear to listen to such questions now. Do you think, if brother Robert had married a woman worthy of him- 'self, he would have left us to be informed of the fact by a chance newspaper article? Is that likely? Is it not an acknowledgment made by himself to all the world, that he is painfully conscious that he has been a willing dupe of a crafty woman? Look at it, Mr. Duncan! It is as plain as print. And what next, Mr. Duncan? Look around you; here are Robbie and Lucretia, and Richard, and Nelly, and Henrietta, all to be brought forward and set- tled in life; and here comes a settler, sure enough." "It is hopeless to speculate about this matter," said Mr., Duncan, rising to leave, in which movement he was followed, by his son, who had been. speechless during the whole scene. "I greatly regret, my dear wife and children, that this has happened; but I am glad the knowledge of the event has preceded his coming. I hope we all of us shall receive Mrs. Argyle as becomes our relations to her hus- band." - So saying, this worthy gentleman and his son left the room. At the front door they were met by Mrs. Donald Ross and her two daughters, and her son Donald, a young man about town. As Mr. Duncan opened the door, they had just left their carriage, and running up the steps, all breathless, asked, "Have ;you heard the news?-the dreadful tidings!" as Mrs. Ross had it. Mr. Duncan asked them into the parlor, and having * 4 X w page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 134 MARRYITG TOO LATE. seated them, he replied, he had already heard so much that he could not endure to listen to any more. He begged them to go down to the breakfast-room, and comfort his wife and Lucretia; and as they all rose to go down, Mr. Duncan asked them to stay one moment. "My sister, say not a word you will hereafter regret. Remember, brother Robert is our good brother, and his wife is now our rela- tive; and one last w6rd-to each and all of you: ' The least that is said is soonest mended.' Now, then, go down and mpke my wife sensible of all I have told you, and you shall have my warmest acknowledgments." Mrs. Ross and children hastened to the breakfast- room. We shall not attempt to describe the scene. Sorrow and grief have many voices. The notes of woe are as various as those of joy. These ladies began, as do masters -of the, great organ:-First, one deep, long-sus- tained note of grief. Then a chord was struck, then another and another, then the key changed to a minor; here came in a sharp, then two flats by way of contrast, and finally, daughters, son and mothers pulled out all their stops; and, like a musician mad with the excitement of his own creation, while his fingers run wild, over the upper octaves, crushes down the lower keys by the handful, while with his feet he is working, as on a tread-mill, the pedals of the sur-bass, till all is uproar: exhausted, the excitement dies away in low, wailing tones, and so ends. Such was the tumult of emotions, such the conflict of cries and tears, when these ladies and children met in the breakfast-room on this trying occasion. ROBERT AND RACHEL. 135 Mr. Duncan entered his carriage to go down town to his counting-house in Pine street; Robert Argyle, however, on closing the door, excused himself from accompanying him, he having an engagement at that hour. The father bowed, and the carriage drove off, leaving his son to run back and get his umbrella, for now a pouring rain was coming down, in perfect sympathy with the state of his heart, as well as those of the mourners below stairs. As Robbie Argyle Duncan sped his way towards the Spingler Institute, he reproached himself for his hateful selfishness) and before- he had reached Union Square, he asked why he should be in such hot haste to tell Ra6hel? Why should not his uncle marry? He. ought to have- done so years ago. He had not lost his uncle. "No!" said Robert aloud, as he ran along the wet flag-stones, "No! I have found my uncle. His new-found happiness will make him accessible to my own anxious longings after like blessedness." And with such thoughts, looking up at the Spingler Institute with a hopeful eye to catch a look at Rachel, which was, indeed, the rarest of all chances, and found to be so now, he' jumped into an omnibus, and in the earnest pursuit of business so recovered his gayety of heart, that he was more full of frolic on this day than ever before. So much for nobility of soul I !- ' . t' page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] CHAPTER XVI. A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE FROM MSS "IVY GREEN." ON that day, there were a dozen calls made at Mrs. Dun- can's and Mrs. Ross's residences, by their nearest and dear- est friends and relatives, all in consequence of that article ini the Herald. Every body hoped to get some news of the event by calling. The first of all callers- at Mrs. Duncan's was Miss Ida Green Duncan, the only sister of Mr. James Duncan, a lady of near thirty-ive; a young lady at that, and in very remarkable preservation, famil- iarly called at the Duncans', Aunt "Ivy Green," from her long-continued attachment to Mr. Robert McGregor Ar- gyle. Miss "Ivy Green " had not a gray hair in her head; her teeth were perfect; and seen walking, of a bright au- tumn day, no one would have guessed her out of her teens, she was so light and airy in her step, and wore such tasty bonnets. But she had long been made to chew the cud of sweet and bitter fancies. While in her teens, her beauty and fortune brought around her many admirers, none of MSS HVY GEEN. 13t whom were acceptable, simply because she had been taught she must never sink herself by a mes-alliance, which, in the conventional dialect of Gotham, meant, marrying a man who cannot place his bride at once in an establishment- another phrase for a house up-town, and a carriage. In her youth, there were those who were willing to share their fortunes with Miss Duncan, but not one whose claims could stand the fining-pot in which she melted down all offers made her. She was nearly twenty-seven before she began to ask herself whether or not she had not made a mistake. And when thirty came, she saw but one escape; it was, to make " a good match ;" and of all in the circle of her friends, there was no one -who stood so pre-eminent as Mr. Argyle. She had been coquetting with him in a sly way for years before, but at thirty she determined to concentrate her energies solely upon him. And in this she hoped much from her relationship. She relied on Mrs. Duncan and Lucretia for " material aid "-famous words, these! She had reason to hope that, inasmuch as the for- tunes of both herself and Mr. Argyle would be kept in the family, Mrs. Duncan would aid her in her plan of sapping and mining the heart of Mr. Argyle. For a time Mrs. Duncan did so; but when all things were coming to a state of readiness for a coup de main, then Mrs. D. held back, and Lucretia did not fail to pre- vent the complete investment, for she would never consent to Aunt?i Ivy Green's " making an assault upon the cita- del. But whenever some new. face caught her uncle's eye- and fears were being entertained in a new direction, then Aunt"Ivy Green" was encouraged to "go-ahead," and pic- page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 MARRYING TOO LATE. nics and dinner-parties were given for Mr. Argyle, in which "Ivy Green " always held the post of honor, until the dan- ger was over, when the parties for charades, oysters, and the like, all came to an end, and Miss Ida Green Duncan was left unaided and alone. Now, then, had come the day for Miss "Ivy Green " to take her revenge. Some kind friend had sent her the Herald, marked. There are few who have not such friends. Her agony was intense for a time, but then came the delight of thinking the pain this would bring to Mrs. Duncan and Lucretia, and the Rosses. She hastened to make her toilet, and sending for a hack (Miss "Ivy Green " had already felt the chill of money-saving come over her, and had laid down her own carriage), she drove over to her brother's mansion. We have done our best to describe the state of mind of the family circle into which Miss Duncan was soon to enter. These ladies and Mr. Donald Ross had somewhat recovered themselves, when Mrs. Ross asked her sister, Mrs. Duncan, what was to be done, and what was to be said in reply to their callers, whose visits of spiteful sym- pathy they all had reason to dread. Mrs. Duncan replied, "Sure enough! What can we say? If we assume to be delighted, nobody will believe us. If we confess the truth, we shall be laughed at by those who know how we have watched every movement of theirs, and with what success we have detached brother Robert from any woman who has made an effort to win him -for the last ten years. And now we are outwitted; and they, one and all, will rejoice as though our loss was FAMTY CONFERENCE. 139 their gain. There is sister Ida; she will do nothing but tell of our wretchedness, and she is eagle-eyed to discover what we may most desire to conceal. Dear I dear I what is left us to do? O that I should have lived to have seen this day! And what makes it so much the worse, is, that we have allowed him to leave us without taking one of our girls with him." "It is indeed dreadful I " replied Mrs. Ross, " but who would have believed Uncle McGregor could have lived the winter through; and then, too, when brother left us, he purposed to return so soon as he had obtained posses- sion of his property. Lucretia, my dear niece, have you no word of counsel to give?" "Certainly, Aunt Ross, I have; but mother has so lit- tle confidence in any opinions of mine, that I feel the greatest possible reluctance in offering my advice at -such a conjuncture as this." "Speak! my daughter," said Mrs. D., in a tone which told the depth of her humility of heart. "I am willing to learn, and will adopt any course of conduct which my judgment sanctions. Speak on, Lucretia!" Lucretia turned to her cousin Donald, saying, "Let- us first hear what Donald has to say." Donald, who had been for an 'hour tapping his teeth and lips with a very slender stick, whose delicate ivory handle was carved into the shape of a lady's pretty ankle and foot, woke up out of the dreamy vacancy in which he had been sitting, and said, "Upon my soul, I've no idea- none whatever, what we can do. If we lie, we shall be page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O MARRYING TOO LATE. laughed at, and if we cry, we shall fare no better. I con- fess myself beat." Lucretia smiled at her cousin's concession of utter in- capacity to help them out in this hour of trial. "I will venture to suggest to you, my dear aunt, that we all, as a grand stratagem, rarely tried in our set, speak the precise emotion that there is in our hearts at the instant. To one, it may be passion; with another) regret; and so on: by doing so we shall be true to ourselves, and in the long run it will be best. Our states of feeling will differ at different times and with different persons, so will our ex- pressions differ; but as Wordsworth says, so say I, "Nature never does betray The heart that loves her." "Really, my dear niece,) said Mrs. Ross, " you seem to me to have gone a great way round Robin Hood's barn, to tell us what is better said by Sancho Panza than even by your Reverend Doctor Wadswath, and that is, ' Honesty is the best policy.' But the difficulty still is, how to act honestly. If you will give us an example or two of your way of doing things, it might help us better to practise your precept." "Permit me, aunt, to correct a misapprehension of yours : my quotation was made from Wordsworth, and not from Doctor Wadswath. It is a beautiful sentiment, and is, I find, always regarded as striking and felicitous. Indeed, it is a pet quotation of mine." "Doubtless, my dear, you have quoted Mr. Words- worth with the most perfect propriety and aptitude, as VISIT OF IVY GREEN. 141 young ladies should be careful to do, or they may chance to make themselves extremely ridiculous, when they hope to be very smart and clever; but when you talk to me, and upon so important a matter as the one in hand, the plain- est prose is most to my taste; for I honestly confess, I am not able to cope with the young ladyhood of the present day." "In one word, then, Aunt Ross, if I am piqued, I shall show it. If I chance to be in a melting mood, I may weep; of that there is little likelihood. I mean nothing more nor less than this, that every soul of us shall act as we feel prompted at the instant. As for Uncle Robert, he has done what he had a right to do, and we must make the best of it." A hack drove up to the carriage step, and Lucretia, running to the window, saw Miss Duncan's bonnet. "Here we have all of us a chance to enact our several parts!" cried Lucretia, turning round and clapping her hands. "Here is Aunt Ivy down upon us first of all." ' Go up into the parlor, Lucretia," cried her mother. "Run! and we will follow. Don't let her come down here. We will all come up so soon as we can do so. Hasten my child, there goes John to open the door," Before the door was opened, Lucretia was in the entry in time to run toward her aunt, who threw up her veil over her bonnet as she entered, and lifting up her hands, and advancing, cried, "Did you ever hear the like!" "O, we are all in the air!" cried Lucretia. "Never in all our lives have we been so completely confounded. Cousin Donald says 'we are done brown on both sidesi' page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 MARRYINGa TOO TATF. and I tell him on all sides. How do you feel, aunty? Isn't it too bad, that so soon as you were out of sight, you should have been out of mind?" "I/ " cried Miss Duncan. "Why I? It is you that are used up entirely, I should think; not me." "O, we are, indeed! but then, aunty, we have some crumbs of comfort left; for uncle may, after all, take care our fortunes do not suffer; but you know we cannot recall the years that are gone; and, as Moore says, 'Hours that are wasted shall never return.' It is a most melan- choly truth, uncle is married; that is a fixed fact, and it has placed us all in a bad fix, aunty; and now, what be- comes of you?" ' I declare you are positively rude, Lucretia. I called out of kindness to make you a visit of condolence, and not to be insulted. I deem these remarks of yours imperti- nent in the extreme; and if it were not for love of my brother, I would leave this house, and never darken its doors again'. But I see through you! You hope to es- cape my seeing 'the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth ' that this news brings to you all. And now, Miss Lu- cretia, your mother and yourself cannot but feel the cruelty of your conduct towards me; and that but for your malice in setting me in false lights, Mr. Argyle would have been saved from becoming the dupe of some foreign adventurer, who will, I am confident, revenge me of all my wrongs." "Dear aunty, don't say another word I We have said all this before. Mother feels as if she must go down on her knees and ask your pardon; only I told her it was now of no use: and'as for myself, aunty, if we could only have -, M VISIT OF IVY EEN. 43 foreseen this dreadful calamity'-but it is all up now," and Lucretia sighed. At this moment a line of mourners, two and two, filed into the parlor. Miss Duncan was received with a sol- emn air by the mothers, and in silence by the juniors, which would have been in perfect keeping had Mr. Argyle's body been lying in his coffin in the tea-room, instead of plates of untasted muffins and cold buckwheat-cakes, on the breakfast-table. Miss Lucretia had taken the conceit out of Miss -Dun- can, and the interview went off in a very exemplary man- ner; and when Miss Duncan came to the consciousness that her hour with the hackney coachman was nearly up, that she must leave, or pay for another hour, and that, to remain, " wouldn't pay," she rose, and-.was attended to the door by Mrs. Duncan, who politely invited her to "call again soon." The feelings of this young lady, as she took her seat in that hackney-coach and rode away, can be better imagined than described. page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] CHAPTER XVII. MORE OF WHAT WAS SAID OF MR. ARGYErS MARRYING. WHEN Miss Ida Green Duncan had reached the block in which she resided, she requested the coachman to drop her at the door of Mr. Henry St. John's, a near neighbor, with whose wife she was in the habit of daily intercourse. Miss Duncan had known Mrs. St. John from early child- hood; for when Jane Eliza Holcomb came out a belle, Miss Ida stood her in good stead, and helped her through the first grand party, and next at the assembly, and during her first winter was of great service to that young lady. And since her marriage, Mrs. St. John had always shown herself truly the friend of Miss Duncan, to whom she lis- tened for hours, hearing of all her griefs and wrongs, received at the Duncans', and of- all her hopes and aspira- tions concerning Mr. Argyle. We are aware such a test of friendship is rare, and, perhaps, Mrs. St. John would not have borne the burden so well, but that she was a young mother, and loved to be told all that was going on COMPLAINTS OF A WlV. 145 in the gay world, from which she was so much excluded. Pope says " self-love and social are the same." Without stopping to settle that vexed question with our readers, we are sure they will see that it was the most natural thing in the world for Miss Duncan to desire at once to see Mrs. St. John, and tell her the news. After a long preliminary talk, which we shall not re- peat, "I think," said Mrs. St. John, "this will pull down the pride of Lucretia Duncan a peg or two." "Not a bit of it, my dear," said Ivy Green, " she is too self-satisfied to be touched by any thing of the sort. She told me 'her uncle was rich enough to take care of his new. wife, and of her own fortunes beside.' She is so proud, that she deems no man living worthy of her hand!"' "My dear Miss Duncan, don't you believe any such thing. These proud girls are not, after all, the marble they affect to be, and without any of the qualities which fit them for the duties of wives and mothers, there is a neces- sity laid .upon them to do just the foolish thing I did seven years since, when I gave up life and liberty and fortune for a husband! and here I am with four little children and a dreary prospect ahead. All the joys of life lost in the doubtful gain of being a wife and mother. Ah I Miss Duncan, how I envy you your condition. How often I think of you, and have said to myself a thousand times, 'There, now, is a sensible woman; who keeps her own for- tune at her control, and lives to enjoy herself.' But now look at me! I have nothing but duties, duties, duties, and I hear nothing from my husband but, 'Love, it is your duty,'"Your duty, dear. " 7 v page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] CARRYING TOO LATE. R "I am surprised to hear you talk so, Mrs. St. John; you seem to have every thing heart can wish." " 0 yes! I have the finest dresses and bonnets, but never so much as get a chance to wear any of them. There's my opera-cloak, just as I received it from Paris. Last spring I had made up a full summer wardrobe for my season at Newport, and the scarlet fever appeared there, and all my plans were laid aside; and I was com- pelled to go to a country-house on the sea-side, with my nurses only for company, to help me take care of my chil- dren. My husband is for ever fearful lest they should die before their time fairly comes, owing to my recklessness and neglect of their health. Only think, Ida, how I am complimented! I planned a 'winter in Washington, but not a step did I go over the threshold of my own house that winter, except to church, and to take the air, for poor little Georgy had his first signs of salt-rheum. Did I ever show you his head? Nanny, bring George to me, and take off his cap. Now, Miss Duncan, I will lift off the plasters, for it is time they should be changed. There! my dear friend, isn't that hateful ? And, would you believe it, my husband talks to me as if it was all my fault that that child has the misery of that sore head, and therefore it is my duty to see it cured. Yes, my dear Miss Duncan, my duty ! " It is dreadful, indeed; poor little boy!" said Miss Duncan, really distressed at the sight. "Listen to me, dear Miss Duncan. I speak to you as a true friend: if you marry, make a marriage contract with the happy man, that he shall not, on pain of separa- ROBERT AND ANGELINA TOMPKINS. tion and ten thousand a year alimony,, say the word duty, or any of its synonymes, to you, oftener than once a week." " He shouldn't say it to me, reprovingly, once a year!" , "Ah! well. I would be willing to have it told me once a week; but I do think it cruel to be told that my child would have been, but for my neglect, as free from all humors as any of Mrs. MacAlpine's children are. But enough of this. Have you heard any thing more than what is in the Herald ? You have seen the family? Was there any crape hanging to the knob of the door-bell ?" "They had nothing to tell me. They knew nothing; and I must say, they bear it better than could have been expected." On the evening of that memorable day, Mr. Robert McGregor Argyle Duncan came home to his dinner at six, cheerful and gay. His air and manner were in strik- ing contrast to the mournful aspect of his mother, anrd the cloudy mood of Miss Lucretia, who, now that the task -of receiving callers was over, was fully possessed of the bearings of this painful intelligence upon her fortunes in the eyes of her dear friends, and society generally. The other children had dined at an earlier hour, and were at play above stairs. The conversation was confined to topics of weather, condition of the stock-market, prospects of fall trade, and the like, until the dessert was placed on the table, when the servants were dispensed with. Mrs. Duncan then told -of what had been the result of page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] "8 MABRRYING TOO LATE. their conferences in the morning, and that they had all come to the determination to meet this perplexing question without the least concealment. "You have come to a very sensible conclusion, my dear," said Mr. Duncan, "and one which ought not to have cost a moment's questioning. We could deceive no one, if we sought so to do; and it is always a great fail- ure of self-respect, to seek to impress any sentiment other than that we hold in our heart of hearts. What we must strive for, is, to act like Christians, loving and confiding in our brother. He has done what it has pleased him to do, and we will rejoice in what promotes his happiness. If he has failed in securing such a woman as he so well merits, he will need our aid to conceal his misfortune from the eyes of those who will find a pleasure in this greatest of all mistakes a man may make. I have seen brother Ross, and he concurs with me perfectly in our line of conduct. Let us thank God for the love which has always subsisted in our home relations, and for the perfect harmony of our family councils." "Talking of harmony, husband, I do now hope you will find it fit and proper (to say nothing of what is ne- cessary to my peace of mind) to lay your commands on your son here present, and tell him to go to Rachel, and inform her of this event; and she will at once see that there must be an end of their unfortunate engagement." "And why, my dear mother?" asked Robbie. "Why! because you have now no expectations from your uncle Robert; and for another reason--I have just received a private note from Mrs. Tompkins, saying, if MSS ANGELINA TOMPKINS. 149 you have any proposals to make to Angelina, you ought to do so at once; for that she had herself been formally ad- dressed by Mr. Spoolman, junior partner of the very extensive dry-goods jobbing house of Staytape, Twist & Co. of Maiden Lane; and that a proposal of this sort, from such a person, she cannot consent to decline, unless some distinct proposals are at once submitted by you, whom she prefers to all others. There's not an hour, my son, to be lost." "What right had Mrs.. Tompkins to address-you such a note as this, mother? Pray, have you been scheming for my settlement without so much as asking my consent, and, mother, when you knew of my love for Rachel?" "Keep a respectful tongue in your head, my son," said Mr. Duncan. "You are speaking to your mother, and the tones of your voice are not pleasing in my ear." "I beg my mother's pardon," said Robert, bowing to his mother; and then turning to Lucretia, who sat oppo- site to him, he said, "What are your wishes, sister, in this matter?" for he well knew the influence Lucretia held over his mother. "I have only this to say, brother Robert," said Lu- cretia, speaking in a quiet, even tone, every word follow- ing out the one before, like soldiers marching in single file, with unvarying step, "Miss Angelina Tompkins is a very nice girl, well born and well bred; her air is ex- tremely fashionable, and she bears herself gracefully. Her face is regarded by many as pretty; some call her beautiful. Since we were school-girls we had a liking for each other, which I thought it sisterly in me to foster, A, \ page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 MARRYING TOO LATE. knowing she was ' a great catch' for some one; and I remembered I had a brother Robert, who I was willing should win an ample fortune by the simple effort of asking for it. And since we have come into society, I have brought her into my inmost circle of friendship, hoping, by such constant intercourse, my wishes for your advan- tage would, without effort, be realized. In all this I have had the aid and sympathy of mother. All was going on smoothly and well, until you set off on that unfortunate journey of yours to Canada with Mortimer Grafton, and met Rachel Richardson. That has marred my hopes somewhat; whether it will mar your fortune, it is for you to say. Mrs. Tompkins and Angelina have no doubt heard the news of the day, and this is your last day of grace." "I have to render my thanks to you, my sister," re- plied Robert, "for your frank disclosure of what is all news to me, and for the kind interest you and mother have taken in this matter. It is due -to you, my dear father," turning towards him as he spoke, " that I should state the case as it is, with-all truthfulness, so that I may stand up in this matter without fear and without reproach. It is true, I have been much in the society of Miss Tomp- kins; that I have attended her to the opera and concerts, when parties have been made up by Lucretia, and then I went as the protector of my sister, as I supposed, and not the beau of Miss Tompkins. I have ridden home with her from this house often alone; for there was no one else to go, and it was my duty to see her home. But I will say for Angelina and for myself, she never prompted i-e me ROBERT IN LOVE., 151 one emotion of love. In one word, Angelina has appeared to me just as one of the lovely young ladies we see around us, who dress charmingly, dance sweetly, fiirt a fan with grace at a party, and say commonplaces prettily; who seem to live in an atmosphere of perfumes. What they purpose to be, or hope to be, I never have guessed. They live and breathe; but for one earnest, noble, self-sacrificing purpose of soul, one living thought, bearing the impress of mind and feeling, I hold them guiltless. Now, Ra- chel, whom I am asked to give up, is one of God's -own creations; whose heart is the fountain of holy emotions, welling forth thoughts which not only live and breathe in the soul which gives them utterance, but which impart and nurture like emotions in mine. Standing on the brink of Niagara, we met and exchanged, not our thoughts only, but our souls. There is no poverty which can scare me, if shared by Rachel. But I ask my father to speak. I listen for his word in all confidence, and in full assur- ance of faith and hope." "My dear boy, I counsel you to follow the promptings of your heart. I would tell Rachel all that truth re- quires, and if she is true to you, be you true to her. I am moderately wealthy; not so rich as I might have been, and should have been, had I not lived in expecta- tions for you not likely now to be realized; but I have both the ability and willingness to do what is in my power for the'promotion of yours and Rachel's happiness; and you will say this to her, from me, with assurances of my most entire confidence and affectionate regard." Robert rose, and took his father's hand, and strove to page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] MARRYING TOO LATE. speak; but fearing he had not the self-possession to do this, he bowed, and left the room. " Well, my dear," said Mrs. Duncan, " and that is all we have for our pains." "Never mind, mother," said Lucretia; " if Robert is a born-simpleton in matters of love, you have a daughter -one child at least-who will prove herself worthy of her mother." Mr. Duncan said nothing. The ladies left him, and he smoked a cigar, and then sank away to his evening nap, wishing the world was as full of kind sympathies as he felt in that hour burning in his own bosom. Mr. Robert Duncan lost no time in making his way to the Spingler Institute. He found Rachel carefully dressed, for Robert was very jealous of any neglect of her toilette, as indicating to him unhappiness. And rarely did he have reason to complain; for of all things left Rachel, there was nothing now so dear to her, as to see him at the close of her weary day, afid to win his smile of approval. Rachel was possessed of a face whose beauty was in its ever- varying expression, and yet it was not a pretty face. She was, however, so perfectly formed, that she could not but be graceful. In society, she was sure to gratify those who conversed well, by the earnestness and intelligence ex- pressed in her face as she listened. Her beautiful self was soul-satisfying and sufficient; so thought Robert, and there were others of his friends- to whom the pensive air and graceful bearing of Rachel Richardson had charms far beyond the most elaborately adorned and well-dressed girls of the " best society." *1 i MISGIVINGS OF FRIENDS. 153 McGregor Argyle Duncan lost no time in beginning his tale, and Rachel listened to all he had to say with a heart full of sympathy. She had too much truth of nature in her bosom, to renew at such a moment as this, the persua- sives she had offered him in times past, to relinquish his love. On the contrary, she now told Robert, if her love could make him happy, it was all his own. She hoped. that his judgment as to the influence of the marriage rela- tions upon his uncle, Would all prove true. Indeed, she confessed her heart was lightened, as if some new assur- ance was brought to her that this union would promote their wishes; and she would hope so till time should show a reverse. And so it was, that the hour they spent tete- a-tbte on that evening, was one of peculiar pleasure; and the lovers separated with hopeful hearts for "the good time coming." Before returning to our travellers in London, we will say that the tidings of Mr. Argyle's marriage was received in the circle of his friendship variously, Mrs. MacAlpine hoped her friend Argyle had obtained a wife who would make up to him all the years he had so patiently waited her coming. Mrs. Tripp hoped his wife would revenge her sex for all the scores of hearts he had caused to sigh, and sigh in vain, to share his grand mansion; refusing obstinately so many offers made him by anxious mothers, wishing to make a happy man of him. Mrs. Col. Worth, and her daughter, Mrs. De Lisle, were of the number- of those who hoped for the happiness of their old friend with page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] many misgivings. Mrs. Smith was all but certain Mr. Argyle had been duped by a successful female swindler; and though she hoped to be a false prophet, yet she could not find it in her heart to hope for any thing better; and especially did she think this must be so, when it came out that Mr. Argyle had not written a word home to his sisters of his marriage. In this view of the subject, Mrs. Smith had several sagacious men on her side. They said Argyle was known to have inherited a large fortune, for it was notorious in Scotland; and some clever, designing woman, had waylaid him, and it would all come out in due time. j - o CHAPTER XVIII. STORY OF MRS. D OYLE. WHILE these events were transpiring in the city of New York, our travellers, waiting the count's arrival, were busy in the enjoyment of the choicest society of Lon- don. Mr. Argyle had obtained Sir Thomas Lawrence to paint Meda as she appeared at Mrs. D'Oyle's party, when she was to him the incarnation of angelic loveliness-a vision of beauty he wanted to have live for ever on the canvas, j placed there by the master of the age. It was one of Sir Thomas's last efforts, and was painted with an enthusiasm equally delightful to Meda and himself. Indeed, the consciousness that every stroke of his pencil was under- stood and critically appreciated by a beautiful woman, was all the inspiration he required to excel even his best efforts. Meda's picture became a sort of idol to Sir Thomas, and was fondly detained upon his easel, when to all eyes but page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 156 MARRYING TOO LATE. his own it was finished. This portrait completely occu- pied the days of Meda and Mr. Argyle, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd very much to themselves, and many of Mrs. Lloyd's mornings were spent with Mrs. D'Oyle. In these frequent visits Mrs. Lloyd learned one fact, which she did not know how to comprehend. She often saw at the door the carriage of the great duke, and she noticed, though she was always received at such times and shown into the saloon, that she was a sole exception, all other callers being refused. So soon as Mrs. Lloyd heard the departing step of the duke, her friend Mrs. D'Oyle, always dressed in the perfection of taste and simplicity, came into the parlor to welcome her. One day, seeing the look of inquiry and incertitude upon the face of her visitor, of which Mrs. Lloyd was all unconscious, Mrs. D'Oyle coming up with a gay and loving air, sat beside her, and taking her hand, looked up smilingly into her face, and said, "I wouldn't give a single penny for your thoughts, for I know them all without your telling me." "Indeed, Adela, are you a biologist??" "I am not in the market either as buyer or seller," replied Mrs. D'Oyle, somewhat at a loss to know what her friend meant by using a new Americanism which had not as yet reached the shores of England. "Pardon me, Mrs. D'Oyle! I did not allude to buy- ing or selling. But are you an adept in this new science, called in our country, Biology?-persons who bewitch others, while they fancy themselves all the while wide awake." MRS. D OYE BEGINS HER STORY. 157 "No I my dear friend; I am simply a loving wife to my husband, and a tender mother to my children. Now don't say one word. I know all you, have had in your mind, and all that has been probably hinted to you by my good-natured friends," "Well, then, as you guess?" "' O if you put upon me to show you that I retain my birthright unimpaired, I will give you just a sketch of what you may have heard said or hinted at, and which in your soul invests me with a painful mystery, and about which you do not like to inquire: I refer to the daily visits of the great duke to one so humble as myself. Is it not so? Have I not guessed it?" "My dear Mrs. D'Oyle, pray do not let any look of mine convey the impression to you that Lord Howard or Lord Hempstead, Colonel Orchard, or any one of our friends, has ever spoken to me of you but in terms of the highest admiration and respect," . "My sweet lady, I have no such thought; but I am just as certain that they have an inquietude of feeling-a doubt hanging over their minds, as you have in yours. I cannot explain myself to them--I can do so to .you. From your first visit I had determined to do so. Not that you are at liberty to repeat what I say to any one living, my mother excepted. But it is a pleasure to me to tell you; and now, dear Mrs. Lloyd, have you the patience to listen to the narrative of my married life?" "I shall listen with pleasure, Adela; but I do not want the thought to be entertained that I need any explanations of your conduct." page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 MARRYINm TOO LATE. "Dear Mrs. Lloyd, you deceive yourself You do, and so do all -the ' lookers-on in Vienna ' around me; but I leave them to make the best use they can of their eyes ao ears, and draw their own conclusions; conclusions not likely to be either true or complimentary to me, but no matter; I must pay the penalty of my position. The 'eminence ' is not so 'bad,' but it is envied by women wearing coronets; who revenge themselves by speaking of me in terms far exceeding what they themselves believe to be true. Now, then, my dear friend, come with me into my cabinet and workshop, where the great secrets of state are taught me by one who comprehends them all, and who finds in me a most attentive listener. One who is happy to learn the science of politics, and the stratagems of courts, sitting at the feet of him who is both the Goliath and Gamaliel of his day." The ladies being seated in the most beautiful of snug- geries called boudoirs, Mrs. D'Oyle not only, took up her work from the table, but, at the request of Mrs. Lloyd, supplied her with some ladies' work, so that they could both be occupied, and talk or listen as they saw best. After a silence, in which Mrs. D'Oyle was intently occupied in arranging her thoughts, she commenced: "You know, my dear Nelly, that I eloped with my husband from Saratoga, and went with him to Quebec, where he was stationed with-' his crack regiment, the Cold- stream Guards. I suppose I was severely censured by all our set, but I was most happy in the consciousness that my husband was worthy of all my love and devotion. I was received with courtesy and kindness, on my arrival, CONVENTIONAL MANNERISMS. 159 by the officers of the regiment. This being the ' Queen's own,' the officers were composed of the nobility and the gentry of England, and at the time of my coming among them, were all on the qui vive for a recall to the circles of St. James's. News had come of a settlement of the causes of anxiety between the United States and England, and all were on tip-toe to get back to the saloons and club houses of West-1End. "I had much to learn before my entry into London society, and I was in the best school for acquiring all those conventionalisms which tell, and are regarded as the cabalistic symbols of ton; for, my dear Mrs. Lloyd, you will find fashionable society the same every where; every where you will find similar pass-words and grips, after the fashion of masonic lodges, to hedge in the select few, and protect them from intrusion in the rush of social life." "I do not comprehend you, Adela. What are these pass-words and grips you speak of?" "I shall lose the thread of my story if I stop to reply to your inquiry. So I will proceed, saying only so much as this: they consist of certain phrases, inflections of the voice, and such like mannerisms, very clever in contrivance, and hard to hit, so that a single trip at once discovers the parvenu. To go on- "I found my dear husband possessed of ani active, highly-gifted mind. His education had been thorough. In this he stood far above all around him. He found me a clever girl, willing to learn any thing he set me to, and which he regarded necessary for me to know. His hours page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 MARRYIN' TOO ti T of leisure were devoted to my education, and we were regarded the happiest couple the world had ever seen; for in society we were all life and gladness, and then we shut up ourselves cheerfully, and were content to be together for so many hours every day. It was quite wonderful, but D'Oyle's .eyes were now wide open to the great hazard he had run, in marrying re for love. Men of great for- tune and high rank may do such things with impunity; but he was a cadet of a family, proud, and hoping great things from his marrying well. His first thought was to fit me for the society into which I should be introduced. He counselled me, and encouraged me to his utmost; and, on my part, my zeal was untiring. - I studied six hours a day the history and politics of England, Ireland, and Scotland; a very different thing it was from what we understand by the term in our country; for, beside cur- rent events, I was to acquire an accurate and familiar acquaintance with the British Bible." "The British Bible'!" exclaimed Mrs, Lloyd, laying down her work,'and looking up at Mrs, D'Oyle. Mrs. D'Oyle laughed, and replied, "Burke's Peerage is familiarly called the British family Bible; most devoutly is it studied here by families who have no more expecta- tion of entering the circles of English life, than they have of being taken up, like St. Paul, into the third heavens. Now, for a person in society to trip in an allusion to a noble family, to be ignorant of their relationships, or of their estates, would be all but unpardonable. D'Oyle said I must meet the scrutiny successfully, and I did my best to meet his wishes. VISIT TO IRELAND. 161 "There were but three ladies. of rank in Quebec, con- nected with the government. Of these stood foremost Lady Dalrymple, wife of Lord- D., who was in command of the troops. She was a Scotch lady, and a mother. On my coming to Quebec, she held me at arm's length, but I soon succeeded in securing her sympathy; and to her admirable sense and sincere friendship I am greatly in- debted for my success. To hasten on- "On reaching London, my husband obtained a leave of absence, in order to visit his aunt and uncle in Ireland. How my heart palpitated as D'Oyle said to me, on reaching the pier of- Dublin, ' Now, my sweet wife, comes the tug of war.' He was bright and hopeful, and I strove to be so. I confess to you, all my confidence in myself was gone, and a humility, the most unaffected and sincere, took full possession of me. "General D'Oyle resided in the county of Tipperary, on the shores of Lake Berg. Our ride across the country was performed in silence. I could not talk, and D'Oyle, after a few efforts, sat silent by my side, holding my hand, while I, affecting to be asleep, laid my head on his shoulder, but thinking as I never thought before. It was the darkest day of my life. At the town of Killaloe we staid all night, sending a message to the general, of our coming the next day. Before we had breakfasted, the general's carriage and a cart came to take us and our trunks. His own man, Terence, came with the carriage, and his delight at seeing my husband, and his look of pleasure at seeing me, reassured me. It- was to me a gleam of sunshine. page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 MARRYING TOO LATE. -"I was now to meet General D'Oyle and his wife, and the maiden sister of the general, whose beautiful home was near Hertford, not far, by railroad, from London. She usually spent her summers with her brother, Though I did not fear to be received with courtesy and kindness, I well knew that-my union with D'Oyle had been regarded by them as a domestic calamity, for they had counted on D'Oyle's making an alliance which would have lifted him up at once into the class of nobility; and there was a doubt to be solved, whether he had been duped, or had beguiled me, by his Irish impulsiveness, into /an act alike discredit- able to him and to myself. O, my dear friend, there is no act of this sort which has not its hours of terrible retribution I and mine, long dreaded, had now come. One thing I had determined on. I would wear- the air of a sovereign-one who in birth had no superior. Such was my mother's advice, and it was consonant with every feeling of my nature. When the lodges were passed, and the carriage ran along the avenue leading to the old castle, D'Oyle busied himself with looking out of the window. Poor fellow! I pitied him from my heart, and my deep sympathy with him saved me from thinking- of myself. It was well that it was so. On the steps stood the family servants, in holiday trim, ready to receive us. Their warm welcome comforted the heart of D'Oyle. I saw it, and lingered to let him have the full benefit of these greetings. "; We were led by Terence into an ante-room to take off our trappings of travel, arid make ourselves ready for presentation. This would have pleased me at any other , MRS. D'OYEBS RECEPTION. 163 time, but now it was piling up the agony of my dear husband to the utmost. I was carefully dressed, with elegance and with simplicity. My person and, mien would, I knew, stand the severest scrutiny, and with a quiet pulse and perfect poise of soul, I entered with my husband into the dreaded presence of his uncle and aunts. "It was a room of large size, and they stood at the upper end before a great window, so that the full blaze of day shone into our faces as we advanced. I have no doubt the scene was got up to put me to my trumps. D'Oyle was warmly kissed by his dear aunts, and greeted kindly by his uncle. They were all well stricken in years, having the highest finish of manners, and very aristocratic in their bearing, especially so upon this occasion. , Next I came to be an object of regard. My voice was as calm as at this moment. How it could be so, is still a wonder. Indeed, I was, at the time, consciou's of a surprise at myself. The interview was long, and my success was wonderful. I made' not the slightest attempt to please, and I made not the slightest acknowledgment that I was pleased; and when we withdrew, D'Oyle and I, to our chamber, I left them in a state of wonderment and tad- miration, at the American Indian- D'Oyle had brought home with him. One thing was settled most conclusively. I was no novice in society, nor had I displayed any want of skill in sustaining myself in this most uncomfortable family meeting. "I will not weary -you, my dear Mrs. Lloyd, with all that took place. I made them anxious to know me better, , ] page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164 MARRYING TOO LATE. and just so far as their kindliness of manner was shown, so was it met and reciprocated by me. I had not been there a month, before the old general had made me his pet of pets. I sat on his knee, and sang songs for him to his heart's delight. Nor was I wanting in making myself loved by the wife and maiden aunt. They found me full of proud republican notions; and then, too, I was a Pro- testant, and very ignorant of all notions of religion. In that, there was no mistake, for our dear pastor never said a word more true of himself and his friends, than what I knew to be true of myself, ' That it was much easier to tell what we did not believe, than what we did.' My condition was regarded as little less than savage in this particular, and it required some skill to satisfy me of my ignorance, which, while admitted by me in part, was not so easily overcome. That task was undertaken with the zeal of a saint by Mrs. Gen. D'Oyle. So it was, dear Nelly, before winter came, I was the sunlight of that old castle. From the turret to the cellar, my praises were rung, and D'Oyle saw himself reinstated in the affec- tions of his family. The far-off cousins who came to meet me, and make their summer visit to the castle, were not so soon conciliated. They had their own hopes and purposes, so that my success brought from their breasts many sincere sighs; but then they were extremely well bred, and their sorrows were most carefully concealed. As these griefs were none of my concern, I never saw them, nor by any act of mine gave them reason to believe I guessed any regrets had been entertained, or could be. The perfect repose of my manner, when a stray duke, or MR. D OYIES AUNT. 165 earl, or lord, came to the castle (and we had some six or seven such), made me a wonder to these loving cousins, and they came to regard it as a consequence of my Indian origin, and being born somewhere in the vicinage of the north pole for, in matters of this sort, they were surpass- ingly ignorant; nor did I ever enlighten them. It helped me mightily to be a mystery in their minds. "We had a gay time of it for that summer and autumn. It was with great regret on the part of the old general and his lady, that we set out with our maiden aunt for her lovely home in Hertfordshire, where an im- portant event took place, which placed me in possession of a beautiful infant, who was destined to keep alive the name of my beloved aunt, Grizzle Oham Connell. Now, that such a name should be inflicted upon my child, cut I me to the heart; but her wishes must be mine, for she had over a hundred thousand pounds sterling in the three-per- cents., and her residence, besides a large quantity of plate, and twenty or thirty thousand pounds in the state stocks of Massachusetts and New York, most of which we were confident would be D'Oyle's on the day of her decease; so Grizzle it was to be, and. Grizzle it is. Yes! my sweet child has no such name as Adela on the cathedral register,1 bwt she stands inscribed as Grizzle Oham Connell D'Oyle. Isn't that a name? But to go on with my story. "My dear iunt, whom I soon learned, to revere and love with a fond and grateful heart, was delighted beyond measure that my child was a daughter; and, indeed, we HCI UVI LICVCL HUjL ALU LCU r page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 VAERYING TOO LATE. were all very, very happy. About this time a little inci- dent transpired, which caused some anxiety, and made D'Oyle extremely' nervous. This was the visit of aunt Grizzle's solicitor from London, with whom she was closeted an hour after dinner. He made a second visit, and brought a tin case, and after dinner our aunt, and the doctor, and our parish-priest and the apothecary, were closeted for an hour; and when they came from. out the library room into the parlor where iDOyle sat, they looked, to the apprehensions of poor D'Oyle, like con- spirators. He sought to pump the parson and apothecary, but they would answer nothing. Our belief was, a new will had been made, and dear Aunt Oham prided herself in her great secret, in a way extremely tantalizing to us, who were so deeply concerned in it. I insisted on our having not a fear, but that it was all as we could wish it to be; and after a while D'Oyle felt it must be so. All this time my studies were kept up as closely as my engagements would allow. There was so much to learn of which I was ignorant! My babe was getting on grandly, and in the month of May we all set off for Ireland and Lake Berg, where we found Aunt D'Oyle a great invalid, with every indication of decline. Her wel- come was full of angelic love. I became her niost constant visitor, and her anxiety for my soul was touching in the extreme. I could not but weep when tears stole down her cheeks, as she held me by the hand, and begged me to believe in the divinity of Christ, and my need of Him and His great salvation. Of the Church of Rome she said MRS. D'OYE A CATHOLIC. 167 not a word, and yet she was a very devout Catholic. And, my dear Nelly, it was with no feigning of mine, that I consented that Father O'Halloran should talk with me. He came, and with wonderful skill interested my mind, for the first time in my life, to the consideration of the claims of God and the Church upon me and my affections. It was all new to me; and with such a matter to examine, and ,such a sweet example of the blessedness of religion before me, I became a convert to the Holy Catholic Church, to the great delight of the whole castle." "And are you a Catholic, Adela?" asked Mrs. Lloyd, with a tone of surprise. "I hope so, Nelly. I am a poor sort of Christian, perhaps, but I am regarded as a very good Catholic." "But, my dear Adela, do you believe in the power of the priests to forgive you your sins, and in atoning for your faults by starvation, and the like?" "My dear friend, let us not get up a discussion of this sort. There's no likelihood of my starving myself; and as for the priests of my acquaintance, I have. no reason to complain of their conduct, either as gentlemen in my parlor, or as confessors in their closets. Perhaps you are weary of my long story, and would like a' controversy about Protestantism and Catholicism better than any tale I have to tell you." "No! indeed, Go on, Adela, with your story. I am sure I had rather hear you talk, than to talk myself. Only I was surprised that you should have been brought over to be a Romanist." , page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 MABRYING TOO LATE. "Romanist! yes, if you so please; Romanist let it be. But I won't be betrayed into a hopeless controversy just now. Lord Hempstead's card was brought in, and Mrs. D'Oyle and Mrs. Lloyd went into the parlor, thus post- poning Mrs.-D'Oyle's story for the present. CHAPTER XIX. MRS. D'OYE'S STORY CONTINUED-HER LIFE IN LONDON. THE next day Mrs. Lloyd came by appointment to hear the close of Mrs. D'OyIle's story. "At my earnest entreaty, and my terrible description of my fears that D'Oyle would become a nobody--a hanger-on at club-houses, Aunt Grizzle and the general consented that he should come into Parliament at the next election. O, how glad I was when this happened! It was decided that D'Oyle should try his uncle's borough, in which he had many friends. D'Oyle had a grand time of it. We all went into a general election with wonderful zeal. I was in fine health, and our purse was full. The way we canvassed the county was one of the grandest events of my life. I, being an American, was, allowed great liberties, because I had once been a savage (so some thought) and with others, I came from " the land of lib- erty "-the home of so many loved relatives and friends. "I went from hut to house, and from house to hut. page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 MARRYING TOO LATE. The poorpeasantry I took by storm; for though they had no votes, poor serfs! they all had excellent voices, and created a great enthusiasm about the hustings. But my special efforts were made upon the small tenantry, men who never vote but as they are ordered by their landlords, who are usually controlled by the lord proprietor. My morning visits were famously successful, and my substantial gifts were hard to resist; and when accepted by the mother and daughters, I had no fear for the honest Irishman who stood next in kin. D'Oyle's talents as a stump orator were wonderful even to me. And "we stumped it'd as they say in the Western States, in all directions. D'Oyle's opponent was a man of study, of eminent learning, and came down supported by 'a fine old English gentleman,' who was lord proprietor; but Mr. Burkett was nobody in contrast with D'Oyle. D'Oyle's speech was full of hits and surprises, which made the welkin ring with shouts of mirth and applause. Then, too, D'Oyle's wife, in an open ba- rouche bearing his colors, gave eclat to the scene. 'Will you not, my countrymen-the -finest peasantry the sun shines upon--show your gallantry by-voting for the man who has brought home with him one of those women who have been angels of mercy to your sisters and brothers in America, and so repay their kindnesses by your devo- tion to her wishes, showing to Mrs. D'Oyle that Irishmen have hearts that hate ingratitude?' It was hitting hard when this appeal was made both to their gallantry and gratitude. It was a tender point to touch. The uproar that followed, was altogether indescribable. Tenants at will, equally with those whose leases had been renewed D'OYE ELECTED TO PARl TMrNT. 171 within the year, and most of whom had been paid the usual fee for voting on the other side, now ventured to have a will of their own, and voted for D'Oyle in such numbers as to make the usual punishment of turning them out of their little farms and paltry patches of land, a thing impossible. There were too many of them. I am glad to say, the noble lord and his friend, the candidate, became our most ardent friends. They both said it was all my doing, and they were both highly complimentary of my powers. We laughed most heartily at our success, and they, over their defeat-so delightful to the D'Oyles, and so unexpected to themselves. The old general was perfectly happy, and kissed me with tears of joy, when I ran in and told him our victory; and sweet Aunt D'Oyle, with her heavenly smile, showed that she had not become so entirely divested of earth, as not to be glad with that which brought so much joy to the castle. "So soon as we could do so, we once more left Ire- land, in company with our beloved general and lady, and Aunt Grizzle Oham, for Hertfordshire. "To be a member of the House of Commons, does not bring a per-diem allowance, as it does in our country. Then, too, D'Oyle was a novice in parliamentary matters, and I will say it, as honest a fellow as ever took his seat on those wooden benches. He only thought of being a Sher- idan, and for this he was willing to work hard. He sold out in the Life Guards, which sum we appropriated to fit- ting up ar nice house, elegantly. - Aunt Grizzle sent us three chests of plate, as a New-Year's gift. The old fash- page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 MARRYING TOO LATE. ' on was redeemed by its wealth of bullion; for it was made ip for a life investment, quite as much as for table service. "Our first winter went off charmingly. D'Oyle was, )f course, in the opposition, and made some grand hits. rPh Treasury benches opened their eyes, and asked, Who knows this fellow?' Thus D'Oyle's name soon 3ame to be well known. The reporters were conciliated )y his fine face, his good humor; the fruit of his hard Atudy was seen and acknowledged, for his speeches had the 'ing of the true metal. And lords and men of high de- :reo began to bow to the young member from Tipperary, md before the session closed, he was acknowledged to be in extremely clever person-one who promised well. "Duri/g our first winter in London, we received the lews of the death of Major D'Oyle among the jungles of [ndia, where he fell a victim to tiger-hunting and bran- died Madeiras. This, of course, kept me at home and out of society, for we were in mourning. The major was the heir of the old general, as my D'Oyle was of the maiden sister. It was a great grief to the family, and there was a most earnest invitation for us to come over to Ireland. There were cogent reasons why I should remain at home, but Aunt Grizzle hinted to me it would be a most fortu- nate event if my child should be a son, and be born in the old castle. The hint was enough. ,D'Oyle took us over in May, and returned. The hope of my dear aunt was realized, and all hearts were made glad by the presence of a brave boy, who was baptized, and now bears the name of the old general and his nephew, the major, Frederick Maurice Fitzgerald D'Oyle; not a bad name either I " ,. OF GENERAL DBOYE AND WIPE. ' 173 "Is that the name of little Fitz?" i' Yes; and now I am soon to end my story. I had c; w been four years a wife. As I could not stay away m D'Oyle, and as he could not come to me, we all--the aeral and his beloved wife, Aunt Grizzle and myself- der care of Terence, came over to Hertfordshire, and )re had a most happy time of it. 'At last the day came the departure of the general and wife. D'Oyle went aie with them. It was our last family meeting. Before 3y left, the old lawyer reappeared, and the same events ?pened. To me this meeting did not seem to be a mat- 1 of moment. If it were, it was out of our sphere of luence, so I dismissed it from my mind. Our leave. ting was very tender, and dear aunt had a prescience of ning events, for soon after their return she became ill, I D'Oyle, and myself, and Aunt Oham and the children ;i Atened to Lake Berg. We reached the castle to be wel, ned by the sad countenances of the servants. Doctor lmpton, from Dublin, had been there for two days, and both cle and aunt were confined to their beds. "' Our coming acted like a charm. Both patients bright- 1d up. The little boy-baby was a bright beam of sun- . ne into their darkened rooms. Their recovery, con- ering their age, and aunt's great debility, was rapid, . I we began to talk of returning, thinking the general 1 his lady were out of all danger. But dear Aunt Oyle took a chill, and sank out of life without a struggle. i is was a terrible calamity to us all, and most of all to : bereaved husband. It was at once determined Aunt lam and I should remain at the castle. This was abso- of page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 MARRYING TOO LATE. lutely requisite for the happiness of the general, whose sole joy was to have me and my boy-baby near him. The beauty of decline in a good man is very touching. I shall never forget it. The general's love for me was expressed in a thousand little acts of tenderness. I slept in the room next his, and I often rose to go into his room at night, and when he was conscious of my presence, the, tears were sure to flow down his cheek as he kissed me, and thanked me for my kind care of him. Our favorite seat was a very large chair, which held us three very comfort- ably. I mean the general, and myself and baby. I read to him daily, and sang hymns to him by the hour, while he held the boy on a cushion on his lap. We were' sitting one day in our chair, when the general said, ' Kiss me, my child I' He had said so to me hundreds of times, and I did so. His head fell forward on his bosom, and with one sigh, he expired. D'Oyle was sent for, arid came in the earliest train. We buried our dear uncle beside his wife. This brought on the denouement of the conclave at Aunt Oham's. But, as Wilkie has painted the reading of a will, I need not attempt it in words. We had a great burying, as the people said, and all the relatives came to be present. The will was read, and the castle and lands were to be my son's, with fifty thousand pounds in the Consols. In case of his death, the castle was to be D'Oyle's, and in case of my husband's death, to be my daughter's; the money in such case to be mine. D'Oyle was to have the- interest on this money until the boy had reached! his majority. D'Oyle was one of the executors. AUNT GRIZZLE OHAM DIES. 175 --a The remainder of his fortune, in the funds, was fairly and wisely distributed among the cousins and children. "We returned with Aunt Oham to Hertfordshike as soon as it was possible, leaving our Irish affairs in safe hands. We went into seclusion, closing our house in London, and living with Aunt Oham, whom we sought to make happy. She strove to be cheerful, and D'Oyle planned a tour to the Continent, where our aunt had not been since her girlhood. It was a great affair, indeed; and our preparations were all made, and we were within a week of our departure, when we were one morning awakened by her maid coming into our room, and telling us she had found Aunt Grizzle sleeping beyond her time; and seeking to waken her; she found her dead! Here was another great grief to us. I can truly say I never be- lieved myself capable of such love as these precious rela- tives of ours inspired. "Her will was very like the old general's. She gave us one half of her cash funds, and her residence. To my daughter she gave fifty thousand pounds, to be paid over on the day of her marriage; the income to be ours till that event took place, and ours in case of her decease before marrying. The residue of her property she distri- buted in the manner the general had done, making ample provision for her old servants by liberal life, annuities. They, one and all, have remained with us, our most at- tached friends. "Here, then, we found ourselves in circumstances of great respectability; not rich, but in a position to reach up higher. page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 176 MARRYING TOO T ATE. "The next winter, which was last winter, D'Oyle was most desirous for me to go to London. He was anxious for a position in the social circles, as well as distinction in the House. Domestic events had kept me very quiet, so that I was unknown to the great world. Now, then, the time had come for my appearance, about which D'Oyle had become so earnestly solicitous. My success as a can- vasser had given him great confidence as to my success in fashionable circles. I was, at first, extremely unwilling to attempt to climb the ladder which was to land me where you find me. "The first thing was to get a suitable mansion in a suitable square or street. Not an easy matter, this: but Lady Oldburg was glad to give up her house on the death of her lord, an old gentleman, and to take her two daughters with her to Rome, for her own health and happiness, as well as for finishing the education of the young ladies. D'Oyle, who was one of Lord Oldburg's executors, agreed to take the house as her tenant at will. So soon as schedules could be made out and examined by our agents, they were signed, and Lady O. surprised the world by slipping off for a home in Italy. This placed me where I had all things necessary in possession. A large house in the best order, a corps of well-drilled ser- vants, for we took all and every thing as it stood. "I was to give a party. And I waited impatiently for Lord and Lady Dalrymple's -coming to town. Lady D.. belonged to the best society. Eminently aristocratic herself, she felt herself no way compromised by her friend- ship to me; for I was an American, and, as such it was my "ADY DALRYMPL: E 1" pet pride to claim a rank with princes, which claim Lady D. was so kind as to concede without any serious opposi- tion. She rather liked it in mel. Immediately on her arrival, I begged her to devote an early day to me. She came, and I told her of D'Oyle's wishes, and my anxiety to please him. I said, ' I do not seek any such society but such as you shall select for me.' I was very safe, for I knew her relations to great families, and that her select tion would be of the very best. By this surrender of myself into her hands I secured her active aid, in making a successful flight into the sublime regions of high life, Unlike Icarus, the higher I flew, so much the safer I felt. It is here, as it is elsewhere, those who are doubtful of their own position are the hardest to be won by aspirants, "My dear Lady D. looked all around her. She was perfectly satisfied with the house and my plate, and then the state of our purse was examined, which, she thought, would hold out with tact and economy. Having satisfied herself of our ability to keep the position we sought to secure in a modest way, and with a real love of D'Oyle, she consented to take us in charge, and was pleased to say, her faith in my success was a full warranty from all risk of failure. \ . "My list of friends was carefully scrutinized; and thirty names were permitted to stand, beside our Cold. stream friends, as good for a grand party. Indeed, Lady D. said she feared to be too severe, lest my rooms should not appear full; and then, taking out her own list, she selected three hundred of the best names in it. TIis done, my cards were issued. Lady D. was very assiduous, 8* \ page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 - MAtiY1XG Too LAT., and saw every one who had received our cards. They were fully advised as to who I was, and quite a curiosity was created to'be at the first party given by a young American lady. I was in luck, for Lady Holland's cards for a party on the same night were recalled, in consequence of the death of a young child of scarlet fever. Thus my invitations came in the nick of time to fill up the gap. "I had read all about leading forlorn hopes at -Badajos and, elsewhere, but I do not believe the courage and self possession required by a soldier, can surpass what was demanded of me on the night of my party. As it was, I took shelter under an air of hauteur which concealed my diffidence. It would have been amusing to me, at any other time, to witness the curiosity I created. Lords and ladies, who thought they were about to condescend in a most extraordinary way to a wild American woman, on entering my drawing-rooms, found me sustained by Lord and Lady Dalrymple, wearing the mien and manners of an Empress. It was my only safety, for at times I was ready to sink; but Lady D. encouraged me, and helped me to make my reception effective and entirely successful. So soon as supper was well over, I felt myself at ease. Lord D. made me acquainted with those of my guests whom he wished should know me best, and Lady D. in like manner promenaded with D'Oyle, and did like good service for him. "O I cannot tell you how glad I felt when the last guest made his retiring bow, and I stood alone! I jumped into- the air, clapping my hands for joy of the weight I felt taken from off my heart. D'Oyle caught me MRS. D90YE S FIRST PARwT. 1X9 in his arms, and was delighted beyond measure, assuring me of the impressions I had made, and of the compliments he had received during the evening. 'Now my love,' said D'Oyle, 'all the rest of the campaign will be a mere promenade. You have already secured the fullest suc- cess.' "This success soon manifested itself in the cards left at our door-the parties to which we were invited, and dinner invitations sent to D'Oyle and myself. Lady Dal- rymple, like a dear, good friend as she is, went the rounds and collected the suffrages of those who were at our party: and though all were not of the same way of think- ing, yet, on the whole, she was well satisfied with her agency and our success. Indeed, her pride was now enlisted, and I felt safe. "I took care not to be seen at every-party and dinner. I did not want to show any zeal of this sort; but I did not fail to be present at all the parties of the season, and I gradually gained a sure standing, and was received with a courtesy conceded to me by some, I doubt not, because I was a foreigner, and by others, because I stood alone, and had no cousins and aunts, who might be equally aspiring and much less suited to their circle than myself. In a word, they were willing to adopt me, but no more of the same sort." "Dear Adela, do you not do your friends and yourself great injustice by such sentiments?" "Not at all. Exclusiveness is every where sought for, both by men and women. It may be more apparent among women who, relying upon the accidents of birth, page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180 MaRxrYIS TOO LATE wealth, and place, make the most of what they have in hand. Is it not so in all our great cities? and in the na- ture of things it must be so. We must wait till we reach Paradise, before communism, fraternity, and equality, shall come into vogue. To go on: "I very carefully avoided the admiration of men who were nothing more than what their titles made them. Nor did I hold myself in such strict reserve in vain. These men about town are always ready to devote them- selves to new-comers; but as they can do nothing to help a woman to take rank, I kept them, one and all, in abey- ance, until I gained for myself the reputation of being unc peu puriste. "D'Oyle one night, toward the close of the session, had made a very saucy speech, which drew out the leader of the Ministry, and the debate was the topic of the town for one day, certainly. On the day following we went to a grand party given; by the Duchess of Devonshire. There I was for the seventh time presented to the iron duke. Till now my presence had made no impression upon him. But now the name of D'Oyle arrested his attention, and he playfully began to call me to account for having such a rollicking fellow for my husband. This was the commencement of a war of wit, in which he sus- tained himself charmingly. Indeed, I helped him to shine. He was pleased to ask me to promenade with him. Now such an honor as this was not to be lost, nor was it. I knew well the history of his life, and of his wars in Spain; but above all, I had had conversations with one of Marshal Soult's aides-de-camp, who had given some anec- SE8. DIOYE AND THE GREAT DUTE. 181 dotes and facts which could not fail to be interesting to the duke; and while I took good care to conceal my way of ac- cess to these secrets of the camp, I meant to use them wisely. Leading him away from the language of compliment, of which an old man soon gets weary, I led him to a snug cor- ner, where we took seats, and I begged him to correct some impressions of mine as to Marshal Soult. He was soon aroused and interested; and when supper was announced, the duke found himself surrounded by a group of listeners in a most animated discussion--one he regretted to have broken off; and before I left the party, the duke came to me, and asked permission to finish our conversation some morning at my house. This was victory! Waterloo was a glorious affair; but what was Waterloo, in comparison with my success in captivating the victor of Waterloo! "As we went home, I told D'Oyle. of all that had passed, but, to my surprise, he was already advised of my grand manoeuvre and its results: for there were ladies, ladies of high rank, too, who were not unobservant of my success. They saw the old duke sitting beside me ab- sorbed and delighted, as if he had been a young lord of twenty-four. Nor was it with the kindest motives D'Oyle had been told of what was passing. Well, Nelly, I staid at home every day for ten days, till I believed no duke would ever come; when, at 12 o'clock precisely, the old duke's carriage drove up, and I was alone, for D'Oyle had vanished as the duke came in. I had my boy-baby in my lap, and my nurse in attendance. Now this- was not altogether an accident, for I knew how very pretty a young mother is in the eyes of an old warrior; then, too, it was page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 MARRYING TOO LATE. ample apology for the graceful costume I wore. The duke came in very stiff. I received him cordially, with- out ceremony, and, asked him to sit on the -sofa, and see the baby I held on my knee. This at once put us in pleasant relationship. My little boy was as sweet as an apple. The duke took him in his arms, and kissed him on his cheeks and breast, and was really charmed with the brave little fellow. This over, the babe and nurse were dismissed, and there we sat, all ready for a charming con- versation. Not a word was said about Marshal Soult. He was pleased to find me an American lady, and this dis- covery, if it was one, was made the peg on which we had a long talk, so that it was two o'clock when he left. Not to make a long story, it has become a habit of his to call here usually once a day, on his way down the city, and to spend an hour with me. It is of course to me a distin- guishing honor, for which I am maligned accordingly. But I am only perpetuating his predilections for American ladies, and my husband's confidence is undisturbed, and my position in society here is unquestioned. "I have never sought from the duke the slightest expression of his friendship for my husband; nor have I allowed myself to be importuned to address him on behalf of others. Indeed, the duke and D'Oyle never have met, except at dinners and parties, whether here or elsewhere. His engagements have always taken him down into the city immediately after breakfast, and especially since his appointment on the Committee on Railroads in the House -a position which he thinks he owes to the influence of the duke. This may seem to you a small matter; but it 'rHE PROSPERITY OF D'OYE. 188 has made our fortunes. Instead of being at this, time tenants at will in this noble mansion, it is our own: and instead of being the recipients of three thousand pounds per annum from our own investments, D'Oyle has now a net income, independent of the interest on moneys invested for and on behalf of our children, of ten thousand pounds sterling; and this, too, with the entire confidence of the country in his integrity, which was, indeed, a pledge that the action-of the Committee of the House shall never be bought up, not even by the Railroad King himself. "Now, my dear Mrs. Lloyd, you have my story. When Iyou get home you will tell this to my mother, and say to her, that her admirable training, and especially her parting advice, has never been forgotten, and that all my success is owing to my docility and careful compliance with her instructions." Lord Hempstead calling, was admitted, and rode home with Mrs. Lloyd. She was induced to ask him, " what advantage D'Oyle could derive from being a member of the committee on railroads?" Lord Hempstead with a glance showed he understood the object of the inquiry. He smilingly replied, "You are aware that just now railroads are, and have been for a year past, the rage, and Mr. Henry Hudson ranks next to the old duke for power and distinction. Now, then, D'Oyle holds in his hands, as chairman of that committee, a complete control of all bills for railroads in the three kingdoms. Hundreds of applications come before his committee, all which enhance vastly the value of lands held by great landed proprietors, who are willing to pay page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 MERRYIN TOO LATE. large sums to build a road, which they sell out to dupes who buy what they have built to sell. D'Oyle is a good fellow, and nobody regrets his success. Indeed, his integ- rity is highly spoken of, for it is known that he has, at great hazards, resisted the creation of companies which were worthless to all:but the projectors-men; who would have paid enormously for his aid and support." "I am very glad to be informed of this," said Mrs. Lloyd. CHAPTEE XX. THE ARGYE PARTY REACH HOME. IT was a bright morning in December, when the steamer President, with the Argyle party on board, made its way up the noble bay of New York. The hills were covered with snow. Meda, wrapped in furs, stood with her husband upon deck, filled with delight. This was winter! this was snow; not a little patch of dirty snow at the base of some Alpine peak, but pure snow, stretching in dazzling brightness as far as the eye could reach. The clear cold air charmed Meda, and she declared she was coming to the climate for which she was born. Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd shared in Meda's joy, and were delighted to see once more familiar objects coming into view. As for Mr. Argyle, he was silent, thinking of the ordeal impend- ing, of which Meda was utterly unconscious. "Why so absent, my Caro " asked Meda. "Why do you not respond to my joy in finding myself so near home?" page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] MARRYING TOO LATE. "I, too, am thinking of home," replied Mr. Argyle. "But do not let these beautiful scenes pass unnoticed," replied Meda. "O, it can never be that I can become so familiar to such beauty, as not to be joyous as a bird returning home." "I am delighted, dearest, that your first impressions are so full of gladness." The smoke of the great city was now seen, and Meda's enthusiasm was quieted. A boat came alongside, and Argyle Duncan, in his great coat and fur cap, clambered up the ladder thrown over the ship's side. He rushed aft, and taking off his cap to his uncle, stood revealed. He was received with great warmth, and at once presented to Meda: next he received the joyful shake of Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd's hands. A hun- dred different inquiries were made of him, and these being replied to with the utmost brevity, young Duncan turned to Meda, and commenced conversing with her. Meda's frankness, her accent, so winning to the ear of his uncle, was not less so to the nephew, and at once they were engaged in a very spirited colloquy. Argyle Duncan whispered to -his uncle his delight, thanking him for bringing home one whom it would give them all such pleasure to love. Nothing could have been said more agreeable to the heart of Mr. Argyle, than. these assur- ances of his nephew. With the first of the crowd from the wharf, came Mr. Duncan and Mr. Ross, to welcome their brother and lady. Their visit was brief, for amid the hurry and bustle of an arrival there was no time for more than a bow and a shake MR. AND IRS. ARGYLE REACH NEW YORK. 187 of the hand, and its brevity was equally gratifying to all. It was in some sort preparing the way for a family meeting at night. At eleven o'clock, precisely, Mr. Argyle and Meda and Argyle Duncan entered the hall of Mr. Argyle's home. Old Donald McCrie and his " gude wife " received them upon the door-steps, in their Sunday clothes. It was a joyful greeting of the faithful servants with their kind friend and employer-master, is not the word to be used in such relationship as existed between Mr. Argyle and his housekeepers. The family servants stood ranged along the hall. Argyle Duncan led the way up the steps. On enter- ing, Meda divested herself of her bonnet, and stood with a face full of kindly affection, and beaming with beauty, while her husband and herself received the warm welcome of Mr. and Mrs. McCrie. She then offered her hand to the female servants, and bowing to the men servants, she spoke, " I thank you for your welcome, so kindly mani- fested. I shall seek to promote the happiness of all around me. As you have shown, in days past, your devo- to my husband, I trust you will adopt me into your warm and loving hearts." "And now," said Meda to Mr. McCrie, "show me my new home." The servants withdrew, while the old man, with great hilarity and briskness, opened the doors of the parlors. These being seen, Meda expressed her admira- tion of their spaciousness. She then asked McCrie to show her the rooms above. Come, Caro, let us see our nests," cried Meda. There was a glance exchanged with page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 MARRYING TOO LATE. McCrie, who hastened to lead the way, followed by Mr. Argyle and Argyle Duncan. The chamber door, being opened, Mr. Argyle stood riveted, gazing upon a full size picture of Meda, which filled the compartment over the mantel of the chimney. It was Meda the bride, painted for her by stealth by a great artist, and forwarded by the aid of Mr. Lloyd to New York with a secrecy shared only by Mr. Lloyd's agent and McCrie. Mr. Argyle's heart was too full to speak; a tear swelled to his eye and ran down his cheek, which- Meda kissed away. "That tear is mine! It is my reward, Garo mio, and more precious to me than a priceless pearl." Argyle Duncan looked at the picture with rapt delight, and turning to Meda, said, "If I were not in love already, I should fall in love with you at a first glance." "You did love me at first sight, Caro! Did you not?" "Yes, Meda; and I hope all whom I love may be as happy in loving you as I am." - "That can't be," said Meda with a sigh;, then bright- ening up and smiling, she extended her hand to Robbie Argyle Duncan, and said, "If they will only welcome me as this my nephew has done, I will be most grateful." "They can't help loving you," said Duncan. "Ah, Mister Robert, you are in love; and, besides, you are a young man. Comprenez vous?" "No, no! I do not understand you; and here I renew my thanks to my uncle for bringing home to the circle of our affections one so lovely and lovable as Mrs. Meda Montaldi Argyle--my beautiful aunt," said Robert, bow- ing to Meda. THEIR FIRST DINNER AT HOME. 189 "You are gallant, my nephew. I can't reply, but will hope all you tell me will be found true in all my coming life. Now let us make an end of seeing my new home." Mcrie led the way, with proud consciousness that every part of his wide domain would bear the most careful inspection. This was soon done, to the great gratification of Meda. Mr. Argyle sent his nephew with messages to his sisters, their husbands, and children, inviting them to call upon himself and Meda that evening. Before leaving them, Meda insisted that Robert should be their first guest at their first dinner, to which his uncle added his commands. At five the trio were called to dinner by McCrie, and Meda accepted Robert's arm. The table being a circle, there was a playful discussion which section was the seat of honor to be taken by Meda. This was finally settled by Mr. Argyle. Once in her seat, Meda's tact was perfect in the eyes of the nephew. Nor was her husband less appreciative of the naturalness with which she assumed her position as mistress, in the few orders she found it ne- cessary to give the servants. That night the household below stairs fully discussed all that had been said and done by Meda, and were of one accord in this--that they had come under a new dynasty. It was to be no longer a question, "What will McCrie say to this or that?" but, "How will it suit our new lady?" They said they were glad of the change, for novelty of any sort in a household so staid as theirs was charming, and they hoped for the best. Only one thing they did not like, and that was Meda's foreign servants., page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 MARRYING TOO LATE. These personages had kept themselves out of sight, being busy in their own rooms and unpacking the trunks of Mr. and Mrs. Argyle; but their very presence was a discom- fort, for it was offensive to hear them speaking a language of which they were ignorant. The mistress had assigned Elvira the room opposite her own, and Felix had a front chamber in the third story-one of the best in the house. The question was, "How are these folks going to be treated-as superiors or equals? If superiors,-in what-? and if equals,-how are we to get on with them?" These doubts had been solved to a good degree, when, by the order of the new mistress, her servants were direct- ed to have their seats at the table of Mr. and Mrs. McCrie, whose rooms were in the basement of the house-a parlor and dining-room, all their own in days now past, to be hendeforth shared with Elvira and Felix. This was any thing but satisfactory'to old Donald and wife;.but they determined to get on as best they could. Their position was perplexing; but they kept their cogitations to them- selves, hoping it would come out right at last. At eight o'clock four carriages drew up to the door, and the families of Mr. Duncan and Mr. Ross alighted, and were received in the hall by Mr. Robert, who came out to act as master of ceremonies. Having laid aside their cloaks and hoods, and looked into the glass for the last time, Mrs. Duncan and Mrs. Ross declared themselves ready;-ready for what? they dared not ask; ;but like men who have a deadly breach to enter, they hastened forward, leaving to the, conjuncture of the instant, the line of con- duct they should adopt. As for Mrs. Duncan, since her VISIT OF RELATIVES. 191 husband had brought the news of Meda's arrival (we use her own words to Mrs. Ross), " she had done nothing but cry her eyes out." Nor was Miss Lucretia in the most joyous mood; but then she was young and pretty, and not to be daunted by the presence of a woman of her own age. Her brother's raptures only increased the feeling of holding back in the hearts of all these ladies, for they, had determined to be politely civil, and not -a whit more than this, come what would of it. The husbands both re- gretted this alienation of feeling in advance; but what could they do but content themselves, hoping it would pass off; and they were encouraged in this, as they had found by experience, aversion was not a permanent state of feeling with their wives. On entering the saloon, this, interesting family party, led by Robert, saw Meda in white brocade silk, wearing her diamond necklace and cross and bracelets, standing with her husband at the upper end, looking very like a princess in her drawing:room. Mr. Argyle advanced, and having kissed his sisters, led them up to Meda, followed by the husbands and their respective children. Medals manner was courteous, but with no more of warmth than was manifested by her guests. The children were shy, but natural and childlike; and Meda's reception was uncon- strained and loving. Mr. Duncan inquired of Meda of her voyage, to' which she made fitting replies. There was no gladness in any thing that was said or done; and after two hours, this most formal and uncomfortable visit came to an end. The ladies expressed, with due politeness of page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 MABRYING TOO LATE. phrase, their hope they should add to each other's happi- ness, and these ended, the company withdrew. The Ross and 'Duncan ladies assembled at Mr. Dun- can's (the Ross children having been sent home) to discuss matters. They compared notes, and not a soul was satis- fied with what had been said and done. The ladies com- plained of the icy polish of Meda's manners. Argyle Duncan alone defended Meda, saying, " such frigid, dow- ager-like manners as had been worn by them, was enough to chill the heart's blood of a young lady who had hoped to be received with open arms and warm kisses." "It is all just as it should be," said Lucretia. "Meda Montaldi will find us out by and by. Perhaps she will like us better; perhaps not. We too shall find her out, and let us hope for the best; but let us not be hypocrites. For myself I think we have done all that could be expect- ed of us. That Mrs. Argyle is beautiful, no one can deny; and it may be we shall love her from the bottom of our hearts; if not, let us not assume, in form or phrase, a manner hereafter to be falsified. We are all in a bad box, and for one, I shall make the best of it. I am weary, and beg leave to retire." Mr. Duncan and Mr. Ross sat silent though not uncon- cerned spectators of the colloquy just now ended. Lucretia came to her father's chair to kiss him "good night," when Mr. Duncan detained his daughter by the hand, saying, "My child, I commend you in the conclusion, but not the method -by which it has been reached, nor the tone in which you have expressed yourself. Your uncle has mar- ried an Italian, a woman of a strange people to us, whose MR. DNUfog'S ADVICE. 193 sentiments are widely variant from ours. He has a right to claim much from us, and we shall best show our love to him, in helping Meda to become in fact, what she is now only inname, an American lady. Mistakes may be most innocently made by her which it will be our duty to conceal; and if she have a loving heart, she will be docile and teach- able, and we shall f have no reason to regret all we do for her naturalization, as one of the chief ornaments of our home circles." Mr. Ross confirmed emphatically all that had been saia by his brother-in-law; but though this was excellent advice, it had the effect of all such advice when given to persons who do not want good advice, and are determined to act in direct contravention to it, and to their consciences. page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] CHAPTER XXI. M E D A XS DAY O? RECEPTION. ON the day following their arrival- home, tickets prepared by Mr. Argyle, aided by Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, on their passage, were sent out to their especial friends, announcing Mr. and Mrs. Argyle 1"At home Thursday next." Among the first of their callers, on this day of recep- tion, came Mr. and Mrs. MacAlpine, with all their chil- dren. They were received by Mr. Argyle with the warm- est welcome, and presented to Meda, who was delighted with them all; and when the twin boys were brought up, Meda, learning that one bore the name of her husband, claimed the right to retain him : "You can spare him, dear lady, and it will be such a joy to us! Oh! you never can consent to go from earth, because you have heaven all around you," cried Meda. "Thank you!" replied Mrs. MacAlpine, pleased with the enthusiasm inspired in Meda by her lovely children. THE MACALPINES VISIT MEDA. 195 "I have precious blessings in my children; but then, Mrs. Argyle, I have many cares." "Cares! What did you tell me, Caro mio," said Meda, turning to her husband, " about cares this day? fwould like to repeat it to dear Mrs. MacAlpine." Mr. Argyle smiling, said, "I was telling my dear wife what Dr. Young has said, 'Cares are our comforts. He who has them not, Must make them, or be wretched."' '"Now, dear lady," said Meda to Mrs. MacAlpine, "you have too many cares. I will relieve you, I will' take this little boy, and he shall be ours. Won't we, my husband?" "Gladly!" said Mr. Argyle. "You are very kind," replied the happy mother, "but of these cares I have not one too many." It was at this point of pleasantry, that Mrs. St. John and Miss Ida Green Duncan entered the saloon, and Mr. and Mrs. MacAlpine withdrew, with many promises to visit intimately Mrs. Montaldi Argyle. Mr. Argyle having presented the new-comers, followed the MacAlpines into the entry, where they had quite a colloquy. Meda expressed her admiration of the family of Mac- Alpines, whereupon Mrs. St. John cried out, "If there is any one I dread to meet in society, it is Mrs. MacAlpine " "You surprise me," said Meda. "Yes! no doubt. Let me explain: that lady is the best of all my friends: she has no superior in the city, but it is just that superiority that I don't like." page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 MARRYING TOO LATE. "But why, madam?" asked Meda. "L You are puzzling me. Will you explain yourself? ' "I will, my dear lady, for you are a young wife, and have got every thing to learn; and I pity you. Now then, Mrs. MacAlpine is my neighbor, and as a wife and mother she is a pattern woman, and my husband holds her up to me as such. Do you not spell out my riddle now? : "I have spelled out one riddle, to find myself more perplexed by a new one," said Meda. O, it is I who am now the enigma," cried Mrs. St. John. "I design, Mrs. Argyle, that we shall be friends; and I greatly prefer to tell you of my failures, as a wife and mother, for then I shall be fairly reported." "Don't believe her, Mrs. Argyle," said Miss Duncan. "Mrs. St. John loves to represent herself as a martyr to matrimony; but I assure you she is the most wretched of women when her husband is absent from her, even for a week on business, and her nursery is the centre of all her happiness" The entrance of Mr. Argyle leading up Mr. and Mrs. Tripp and daughter, put an end to this conversation. They were followed by Colonel and Mrs. Worth, Mr. and Mrs. DeLisle, Mr. and Mrs. Woolsey, Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer. Mr. Winterbottom, an old friend of Mr. Argyle, and a bachelor, who came with Mrs. .DeLisle, was presented to Meda by her husband with more than usual distinction. Meda conversed with- him and the circle with a beautiful naturalness that won all hearts. There was grace and elegance in all she did, while she was entirely occupied in the welcoming of the. friends of her husband. The MRS. DUNCAN AND MR. ARGYE. 197 groups of callers now followed each other so rapidly, that little else was to be done than to go through the form of receiving guests as at a party. The elegant bearing of Meda won the admiration of all, and the talk of the circles up town for a week was all about Mr. Argyle and his Italian wife. We will now return to the day following the arrival of Mr. Argyle. During the call of which we have spoken, made on the evening of the day of arrival, Mrs. Duncan had requested Mr. Argyle to give her an audience at her house the next morning at twelve o'clock. With much reluctance at heart, this gentleman entered the parlor of his sister at the hour appointed. Mrs. Duncan complimented Mr. Argyle on the loveliness of his wife, and instead of speering him " with questions, which he feared would be his morning's entertainment, she com- menced by saying, "I have taken this early opportunity, my dear brother, to consult you about my son, and your namesake. He has fallen in love!" said Mrs. Duncan, with an impressiveness which was extremely perplexing to her brother. "Dear sister, and what of it? and why is it that this is a cause of anxiety?" "That is what I have to tell you. The very month you left, Robert went, with a friend, on a tour of the Lakes. At Niagara he met with Mr. Samuel Richardson, of South street, and his daughter, a very estimable girl, and an only child, whose mother had been buried in the preceding autumn. Poor child! her father went into a page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 MARRYING TOO LATE. cotton speculation, and lost every dollar in the world. He died of a heart-complaint, suddenly, and left his child a penniless orphan." "And is my nephew engaged to this lady-??' "Oh! no. They are not engaged, for the young lady declines Argyle--for the reason that she is now ploor, and that if this had happened before they met at the Falls, Argyle would never have thought of her for a wife.'" "She must be a very sensible person!" said Mr. Argyle. "She is," replied Mrs. D. with emphasis, " and I wish from my heart your nephew had a little of her common sense, then there would be no trouble at all; but, brother, this is only one half of my story. The case is one of complications which needs more skill than I have to man- age, and for this reason I sent for you' to come at this hour. To commence: You remember old Jonas Tomp- kins, who made his fortune in the Smyrna trade?--and a great fortune it was." - I remember him perfectly; what of him?"' "Nothing of him, now that he is dead and gone, but all about his only surviving child, Miss Angelina. She is the last of the family. Richard was ' a fast man,' and broke his neck on the Long Island race-course. Samuel and his sister Judith were lost at sea, on their way to Cuba, and thus it was Angelina became one of the best matches in the city. "So much for the prologue,--now for the story. Lu- cretia and Angelina were sctool-girls together; shared the same room at Albany; and these young girls, as girls ,. MR. ARGYE VISITS MRS. DUNCAN. 199 love to do, speculated how charming it would be if they were only sisters, and to -effect this, they must exchange brothers. During their vacations, these girls and- brothers were very much together; and though Lucretia had no liking to Richard, Argyle, we hoped and believed, took a fancy to Angelina; and she, poor girl! was confident it was so. But Argyle went on this tour, and met Miss Richard- son, and, by doing so, has not only made a shipwreck of his own fortune, but of the happiness of this sweet girl. Angelina Tompkins, since he has left her, has greatly declined in health: and I do believe it would have gone hard with her, but for the bursting up of the bubble of Rachel -Richardson's being an heiress. It was providen- tial, no doubt," continued Mrs. Duncan in a pious tone, "but Argyle doesn't think so; and, to bring this matter to an end, he has consented to submit this whole question to you; and, as it is desirable you should receive an impartial statement of the case, I have thus early sought you, and inflicted this long tale upon you." "I am extremely interested," replied Mr. Argyle, ' and will strive to act wisely in the premises. I suppose that Argyle has made nothing more than his expenses since he came of age?"? "Made I my dear brother, that firm has made nothing for the last year. His share does not begin to pay for his kid gloves. I do believe Mr. Duncan finds Argyle's bills exceed those of our Lucretia-and these are not trifling. And that reminds me of; what I said to Argyle the. last time he allowed me to rspeak to him on this subject. Said I to Argyle, 'Your uncle is now a married man; has s page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 200 , MARRYINrG TOO LATE. i married a young wife, and has reasonable expectations of a rising family, and it is his first duty to take care of them. If he did not do, so, he would be worse than an infidel.' Yes, -brother, I said to him, Argyle, you may as well give up, first as last, all hope of sharing your uncle's wealth.? I won't tell you what he said, for it seems to me, both boys and girls of our day know a great deal too much." Mr. Argyle was both pleased and pained by what his sister had just said, and was silent. Seeing this, Mrs. Duncan rang the bell, which was the signal for Lucretia to appear, as she did with her bonnet in her hand, her furs on, and ready for a departure into the street, looking beautifully bright. She ran towards her uncle, and kissing him, said, "How is my beautiful, aunt this morning? She is, indeed, exceedingly lovely, and I moan to love her with all my heart, if she will permit me to do so." Mr. Argyle having expressed his heartfelt joy, Mrs. Duncan requested Lucretia to be seated, and said to her, " I have been telling your uncle all about your brother and Angelina. Now I would like your uncle to hear what you have to say; and I will beg you, brother, to excuse me, while I attend to my -household affairs for the day. 'In the mouth of two witnesses,' as the Scriptures say, 'shall every word be established."' So- saying, Mrs. Duncan left the room. Lucretia threw off her fur cape, and laid aside her cloak. Before saying a word about the lovers, she re- peated her compliments of her sweet aunt; this done, she commenced her narrative thus: "Argyle has fallen in love, Uncle Robert, or he thinks he has, with a sweet girl, now "UCRETIA VISITS MR. ARGYE. 201 a teacher in the Spingler Institute, Union Square. I need not go over what mother has doubtless told you. I had hoped Argyle would have had the wit to discover that a great fortune was rarely attained by trading. He cer- tainly has had two years' experience, and the reverses of trade last fall have swept away all the profits of his part- nership with Langhorne & Co.-To begin my story: since Argyle was a school-boy and I a school-girl, Ange- lina Tomplkins has been his playmate and mine. We have grown up together. She, poor child, making a large out- lay of love, and he only thinking of her as a child, she being four years his junior. He is now twenty-two, and Angelina is of my own age, just past her eighteenth year, -Now comes the difficult part of the story. Argyle met a lovely girl at the Falls, and he fancied her, and now he deems his honor pledged to marry a girl who was an heir. ess when he offered himself, but now is a teacher of a class of young ladies at Mr. Abbott's Institute. Rachel is a good girl; she foresees the trouble she will bring upon r Argyle and herself, and begs him to give her up; and I believe he has made up his mind, pretty much, to act in compliance with your advice. Mr. Argyle rose, and said he would at an early day converse with Argyle, but just now he- was too much occu- pied with his own affairs, and so- closed the interview. 'We have him," - cried Mrs. Duncan exultingly to Lucretia. " He is enlisted on our side. Before you came in, I spoke to him of having a family of his own to take care of, and it moved him to the very depths of his page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] O2 MARRYING TOO LATE. heart, Poor, dear brother I there may be more of truth in that, than either he or I could wish." " Mother, what do you mean ? " " Nothing, child," and then added-" more than this: children are gladly welcomed by young husbands, but they rarely give satisfaction to old-young-husbands."' " Is that what you meant, mother ?" " Men at your uncle's age like to sleep soundly, with- out having thorns set around their pillows." " I never heard you speak of us children as thorns, mother. Do parents call children thorns in their pil- lows? " "By no means," replied Mrs. Duncan, having re- gained her self-possession. "They are the delight of the young, but too often the plague of old men. Look at old Littlejohn, the Banker. He was fifty-five when his eldest boy was born; and what comfort can he take in the thought that he must leave the world just as his children are ready to. enter upon the affairs of life ? " " Ah, yes ! Now I get your idea, mother. Yes, it is best to marry young, that is, if there is a good match'to be made. If not, not. Good day, mother; I am now going to make a call on Mrs. Lloyd, and find out all she can tell me about our new relative." " Do so, my child; and be sure you get every item of news possible. I shall be dying to -hear what she has to say." CHAPTER XXII. MEDA AND REV. DR. A U C H M U T Y . THE day following Meda's reception, the Rev. Dr. Auch- muty, Mr. Argyle's venerable pastor, made his call. The old gentleman was a tall, thin man, with a keen eye, and a voice clear and sharp, and which, when he willed it, raing like a bell. Mr. Argyle senior had been one of his elders and firm friends. Indeed, they came from Scotland in the same ship, and during a long life had been on terms of closest intimacy. The tidings that Robbie had married " a Canaanitish woman," was as painful to the old Scotch divine as to Mr. Argyle's sisters. And conversations held with them, since the news came to the city, had greatly intensified his regrets; nor were these views modified by any thing they had said, since the arrival of Mr. Argyle. He had waited with some impatience for the reception to be over, to make his call, inasmuch as he was authorized to offer to Mr. Argyle the vacant eldership, caused by-the death of page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 MABRYING TOO LATE. Sandy Muir, a gentleman greatly beloved by Mr. Argyle. This office had been kept open during Mr. Argyle's absence, in order that the name of Argyle should stand once more in the eldership of that church. When Meda entered the parlor, she found her husband earnestly engaged' in conversation with the Rev. doctor, looking unhappy and perplexed. Such a cloudy brow she had not seen him wear since the days of their residence in Florence and Rome. Radiant with light and beauty, with a gracious smile, she advanced towards her husband, who rose, and taking her hand with much formality of manner, presented "' his wife, Meda Argyle." The doctor rose, and received her with much ceremony and respect. It was evident to Meda that her husband wished her to be on her guard during this interview. After various inquiries, the doctor asked Meda, "if she, like Ruth, in coming to a strange country, had made up her mind to leave her graves and gods behind her?" Meda looked up inquiringly into the face of the pastor, and then towards her husband, evidently innocent of all comprehension of what had been said to her. The doctor smiled, and with much kindness of manner addressed him- self to Mr. Argyle: "I have not made myself under- stood." Then turning to Meda, he said, "You are not yet familiar with the religion of your husband, fair lady." "Not perfectly," replied Meda, ;' but I have got so far as this-' Wherein is the moral law summarily compre- hended? '" "Indeed"!" replied the 'doctor; ,"and what comes next?" -REDA AT HRV CiATlEISM. 205 Meda promptly replied, " ' The moral law is summarily comprehended in the Ten Commandments.' " "What next, my lady?" asked the doctor. "I haven't gone one step further," replied Meda, with the sweetest sincerity and innocence. C "Do you not know the Ten Commandments?" "I can repeat them in French, but not in English." "Let me hear you?" asked the doctor. And Meda repeated the stanzas common to books of piety and devotion among the French, in which the Second Commandment, "Thou shalt not make any graven image7 &c." is entirely extirpated, without the least allusion made to its existence. The old divine looked his astonishment, and seeing Mr. Argyle about to speak, he turned towards Meda briskly, and asked, "How did God create man?" Meda put her pretty finger to her lip, as if recalling her lesson, and brightening up to a smile, she replied, "God created man, male and female, after his own image, in knowledge, righteousness, and holiness, with dominion over his creatures," 'Well said, lady! And 'did our first parents con- tinue in the estate wherein they were created?" Meda, now perfectly at home in her recitations, replied, ' I Our first parents, being left -to thee freedom of their own will, fell from the estate wherein they were ere ted, by sinning against God.' "What proof have you of that?" ' Of what, sir? ' asked Meda. page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 MA- RYNG TOO LATE. "That our first parents fell from the estate wherein they were created? ' i' "I really don't know, sir; I haven't learned that yet," said poor Meda, somewhat perplexed. The doctor turned to Mr. Argyle, who sat silent, in doubt whether to be amused with his dear Meda, or angry with his minister, who, with a sly and cunning glance of his eye, said, "Your lady has a very good memory, Robbie, and it would be an improvement in your manner of teach- ing, if you should help her to the ideas underlying the words of the Catechism." Then turning to Meda, so as to save any answer, he said, "My fair lady, I hope to see you a constant attendant on the Lord's house on the Sab- bath, and at our Lecture on Thursday evening, in the vestry. I trust, by God's blessing on the labors of your 'gude meon,' you will be brought to a saving knowledge of the truth." Thus saying, he bowed, and rising, took Mr. Argyle by the arm, as he walked away with him toward the door. "I cannot consent, my dear Robbie, that any other name than yours shall fill the vacancy in our eldership. You will, I hope, feel it a duty and privi- lege to be one of our elders, and thus fill the place of your good father. It is a high privilege, and a post of honor." With these words the minister left the room, accompanied by Mr. Argyle to the door. On his return, Meda come running toward him, and putting her arm in his, asked, "Did I answer right? Tell me, Caro, are you ashamed of me? I am, indeed, very ignorant of the religion of this country, but not so igno- rant as the minister thinks I am ; am I, dear husband?" DR. AUCHMUTY AND .THE ELDERSHP. 207 Mr. Arygle reassured Meda, by telling her she had succeeded grandly, and that, in time, she would be such a theologian as to debate with the doctor himself: but then, to be so, she must be docile and childlike. "As I am and delight to be," said Meda. "Now tell me, Caro, what made you look so ill-natured when I entered the room?" "The doctor wants me to be one of his elders." "Who! you an elder?-you shan't be an elder. You have but just been married to me, and I think it is very impolite for him to talk of your being old, when making his first call on me." "My sweet wifey, you ion't understand it; and you have forgotten what I once -told you, of the difference between a Catholic and Presbyterian church." "But I do know, Caro, that elder means old man." ' In common parlance it does, Meda; but not necessa- rily in office-bearers of our church." - * "No! no! you shall not be one of his elders, but my dear young husband. Let him take care of his church, and you take care of me." "You shall be well cared for, my sweet wife." The next Lord's day was stormy, and Meda decided on remaining at home, and not only so, but she persuaded her husband to keep her company; for she would not con- sent to his making his first appearance in church without her. And so it was, that Mr. Argyle's pew was vacant; not even Robert Argyle Duncan was in his seat, for he page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 MABRYrNG TOO LATE. had played truant on that day, and was sitting beside his dear Rachel in the Church of the Pilgrims, greatly edified by being in such society. The congregation at Doctor Auchmuty's church was unusually large, for there was a universal expectation that, by going on that day, they should see -Mrs. Argyle make her first appearance in public. It was with no pleasant aspect the old divine rose, with the hymn-book in hand, and eyed the vacant pew as he gave out the hymn. "Let us sing to the praise of God, in the use of the 48th Hymn, 2d Book: ' Eow vain are all things here below; How false, and yet, how fair.'" The subject-matter of his discourse on that day, was the danger of making idols of mercies. There was great pertinency in what the doctor said, which would have *exactly suited the condition of Mr. Argyle; but though his relatives, even to Lucretia, were in their proper places, it was all 'as water spilt upon the ground,' which, Mr. Argyle not- being in his place, no one thought of gathering up; for while it met his case most perfectly, it suited nobody else in the congregation. All this while, Mr. and Mrs.- Argyle were sitting together in a great easy chair, in Mr. Argyle's chamber; Meda, encircled by the arm of her husband, sat beside him, reading aloud with him in turn, a verse each, the entire Gospel of St. John. OHAP-TER XXIII. ME DA GIVES A GR AND PARTY. ON Monday, bright and early, the household of Mr. Argyle began their preparations for lMeda's grand party. Without perturbation or doubt, Meda gave her orders. Her boxes had been all unpacked, and her pictures and statuary were first to be disposed of. In one matter only did Mr. Argyle presume to doubt Meda's selection as to the fitting place for all the additions she was making to the adornment of his spacious saloons. It was where her picture, by Sir Thomas Lawrence, should stand; and in this she gracefully acquiesced in his wish, that it should be placed on the wall fronting the door, and in. the line of the doors, so that the effect was startling; for you seemed to see the lady before you, on entering the room. "This picture, Meda," said Mr. Argyle, as he stood before it, " is for my friends. Your picture, in my chamber, is for my own eye. That is mine; yes, mine more certainly than yourself, Meda." page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 MARRYING TOO LATE. Meda looked up into his face to read the enigma. She caught the tone of his remark from the shadow which was in his fond look, and replied, with assumed gayety of tone and manner, "^4way with such thoughts! They shoot into my heart like burning darts; and I could be wretched any day, if I did not repel them, and say, 'I live, and I am happy.'" ' Such thoughts are new to me, Meda; for till now, I never felt that I held all my treasure in one casket." A smash of some sort at this instant was heard in the opposite suite of rooms, and both ran to see what had happened. There stood an awkward servant girl, in dis- may at the destruction of a beautiful vase which she had upset. Mr. Argyle was roused into a grand display of his fluency of language, expressive of anger, while Meda sat by laughing at his, earnestness. Interposing between her husband and the poor girl, whom she sent out of the room, Meda said, "It is nothing but a vase; and who can better bear the loss? which, after all, is no loss, Caro mio, for it goes to the profit of some poor countryman of mine who lives by'making vases." This speech restored Mr. Argyle to himself, and as this was the only mishap, it was speedily forgotten. Meda, on the night of her party, appeared in all the magnificence she had worn at the party of Mrs. D'Oyle. When Elvira opened wide the door into the saloon, where Mr. Argyle and his nephew, Argyle Duncan, awaited her coming, Meda came in bounding with the grace of a fawn. Making what the children call " a cheese," before her hus- MEDA BEFORE THE PARTY. 2" band, she made a most artistic obeisance to her lord and master, to the great admiration of her nephew, who held his breath in delighted surprise at the splendor of his beautiful " aunty.': This, by-the-by, was a distinction only granted to Argyle Duncan. The rest of the " kith and kin "Meda kept on their best behavior, by her re- served and polite bearing, never allowing her tone to change from that of a proud self-respect. But Argyle Duncan called her " aunty " not only with impunity, but to Meda's gratification. "Look at me!" cried Meda. "Shall I stand the scrutiny of New York society? Mr. Bates called me the queen of hearts; now, Master Duncan, what compliment have you for my comfort? What shall it be?" "A divinity!" cried Master Robert. "An angel of light and loveliness!" "Will that do, Caro mio? What do you --say to encourage me to go through this terrible ordeal? I need your aid and sympathy; " and Meda's voice, so gay just now, was very sad, and she looked the despondency of a Peri just barred out of Paradise. Mr. Argyle drew Meda towards him, and with deep emotion sid to her, "You are the bright star of love to me, my Meda. My angel of joy and gladness here, and hereafter, to be my complementary spirit in heaven." A tear stole down Medals cheek as she hid her face in his bosom.- Robert looked on with a heart full of tender- ness, and thought of Rachel. If Meda was an angel of beauty to his uncle, Rachel was an angel of goodness to him. He felt that he could lay down his life for either. s page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212 MARRYING 'oo LATE. The tears were brimming in his eyes, and Meda saw him wiping them away, She ran to him, and said, "It is -o sweet to love, Robert! do you know it?" "Oh, yes; and I want to tell you all about my Rachel, whom you will love dearly, for her own sake." "Will she be here to-night? I will love her for your sake, my nephew." "God bless you, sweet aunty! How happy you make me. Rachel is an orphan, recently bereaved, and is now in great affliction." "Poor girl! I will call to see her this week. You must tell her so, and you shall go with me." The roll of the first carriage was heard, and Mr. Argyle and lady, and Robert, took their places. The company thronged in, all anxious to be presented to the beautiful-bride of Mr. Argyle. Meda's diamonds were quite as much the object of admiration as herself. They shone with a resplendence, and were worn with a queenly grace, which made a powerful impression upon the beholders. The party was in all respects a grand party. Meda opened the ball by dancing with her nephew, Argyle Duncan. A ball she would have, notwithstanding some scruples on the part of her husband; for Medda deemed dancing as fitting an expression of gladness as talking. This dancing took Mrs. Duncan and Mrs. Ross by sur- prisel. They saw in "this innovation the controlling in- fluence of Meda over their brother, and it lay upon their souls, like a shadow, hourly deepening over long-cherished plans- and sunny hopes. The ball having been opened, Meda was every where MEDAS IMPRESSIONS. 213 among her guests. -Now on the arm of her husband, now with Mr. Lloyd, now with dear Mr. Winterbottom, who had already fallen in love with his friend's wife, as such men are apt to do. Mr. Lloyd led Meda to the supper, during which dancing continued in the ball-room above stairs; when those who had no liking for the tame insi- pidities of quadrilles, gave themselves up to polking, waltzing, and fancy dances, which ruled the hour, and with undivided sway held the floor till past two o'clock. Then it was Meda reappeared, and eclipsed all by her beautiful waltzing with Argyle Duncan. Indeed, it was a source of the greatest sorrow of which young ladies are suscepti- ble, when told how much they lost by going away so early. Young ladies could hardly forgive their papas and mammas for taking them away before two o'clock, saying, " they would have given the world to have stayed an hour longer, and to have seen Mrs. Argyle waltz with Argyle Duncan." The party was brilliant, and impressed Meda most favorably. There was an open-hearted, genial warmth of manner, manifested towards her by her guests, which filled her with the, loving confidence of friendship; a thousand times more delightful than the conventional manners of her own country. . page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] OHAPTE1 XXIV. MEDA?S IRST APPEARANCB AT E CHURa.- E B-T V. DOCTOR'S ' ' , , SE R M O N . THE grand party was subjected to a searching scrutiny. Of those who were present, many were not pleased with the incidents of the evening. The ball above stairs was an innovation which some thought was a matter for church dis- cipline, and srith some it was a perplexing question, whether they should follow Meda's example, and hide themselves from censure under the shadow of Mr. Argyle's powerful name. But those who had no tickets to this party, not being of the circle of Mr. Argyle's friendships, vented a great deal of Virtuous indignation. And though such persons had not seen Meda's diamonds, yet they held Mr. Argyle to a strict account, for permitting his wife to dazzle the eyes of poor, weak women, who, they said, would at all hazard come out with their tiaras, because diamonds added so much to the beauty and luxuriance of Mrs. Argyle's hair. But this was as nothing, in comparison / -t MEDA AT COHULCH. 215 with the introduction of an orchestra, and dancing, into such a house as Mr. Argyle's. They said it required no gift of prophecy to foretell what a shipwreck of his use- fulness Mr. Argyle had made in marrying an Italian for his wife. Meda was not left in blissful ignorance of this state of feeling. Amiable friends, calling during the week, told her how warmly they had defended her, showing Meda their earnest and signal friendship, hoping thus to win her grateful recognition of their disinterested services. Meda listened quietly, and replied, " she had no conscious- ness of having done any thing which needed, apology or defence." There was a quietness in her manner which made Mrs. Argyle more and more an enigma. Such self- reliance in so young a person was astounding{- and then, somebody asked somebody, who whispered it to her select-' est friends, "How could she have got these manners? What had been her antecedents?"Questions, these, more easily asked than answered. It was in such a condition of the public mind, that the week came to a close, and the Sunday morning opened, bright and beautiful. Meda made her toilette with beau- tiful simplicity, and was ready in good time; but Mr. Argyle, in his hurry, had cut his chin in shaving, and was greatly behindhand. The truth is, he was exceedingly nervous to get to church early; and though it was nothing to Meda, to Mr. Argyle this was an eventful day in his life. Perhaps nothing had dwelt upon his imagination more vividly than leading his own dear, beautiful wife up the broad aisle, and opening the pew-door for her, that she page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 MARRYING TOO LATE. might walk in first and take her seat at the far end of the pew, as was the custom in Dr. Auchmuty's church. When they reached the church door they heard the prelude of the organist coming to a close. Every one was in his seat, and all eyes turned upon. Mr. Argyle as he entered with Meda. With a proud mien and manner, he walked up with Meda upon his arm. Her furs were costly, her bonnet the sweetest ever seen; and then, her face was so beaming bright, that every one was surprised how beautiful Mrs. Argyle looked by daylight--if the " dim religious light " of a fashionable church up-town can Ibe called daylight. Mr. Argyle, as he reached his pew, opened the door, and bowed; Meda, with a graceful acknowledgment of her head, entered, and seating herself, she leaned forward and said her Jittle prayer. This act, however proper else- where, was out of place in Dr. Auchmuty's Presbyterian church, and Meda was set down as a Puseyite, or a Papist, betwefen which it was not worth a pin to choose. During the prayer of invocation, Meda rose and stood, meekl, modest, and devotional. When the hymn was given out, Mr. Argyle, with lover-like alacrity, found the hymn and presented the open book to Meda, whose smile of acknowledgment was beautiful to behold. Mr. Winter- bottom, who sat in his wall-pew, thought it surpassingly beautiful. There were several wives, who had been mothers a score of years, like Mrs. MacAlpine, ,not only left to find their own hymns, but the hymns for a half dozen children, who speculated how long this gallantry would hold' out. Meanwhile the organist, after rattling away up . SCEE IN, CHURCH. 217 and down three banks of keys, finally settled upon DLun dee, and .those who sat in the pew in front, were happy in hearing Meda singing the alto, but so low as only to be audible to her nearest neighbors. The hymn sung, -Dr. Auchmuty read the Scriptures for the morning service, in the 14th chapter of Luke's Gospel. - There was a uni- versal rustling of the Bibles, and absorbed attention on the part- of the congregation, each striving to fix upon the text, as the doctor always selected his text from the chapter read by him. We refer our readers to the chap-, ter. Some thought the text would be the parable of the wedding feast, inasmuch as it would afford sundry open- ings for a hit at Mr. Argyle's grand party. Others thought the doctor would take for his text the great supper in the 12th, 13th and 14th verses, while others fixed upon the 28th verse, concerning him who, " intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it." But as- this con- gregation were rather given to building fine houses than to making grand entertainments in. them when built, the majority of the hearers inclined to the belief that this would be the foundation of" the doctor's discourse. -When "the long prayer " began, they put themselves in the most comfortable posture for praying, or sleeping, as might happen. How admirably adapted for repose is the light and upholstery of modern - up-town churches!" What an advantage over every other, method for enlist- ing, sustaining,'and concentrating the attention of poor wayward worshippers, does the Liturgy of the Episcopal Church afford, to those who go to chiurch really to worship. 10 v, page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 - -EKIING TOO LATE. When will the public mind wake up to the expediency and necessity of a ritual, suited to the wants of the age, and affording a fitting vehicle foi the prayers of non-Episco- pal assemblies of Christian worshippers? The spirit may -be ever so willing, but let a man be seated in a dimly- lighted, furnace-heated, badly-ventilated place of worship, with the head bent forward, resting upon the rail of the pew in front, and the chances are that half the congrega- tion will be asleep before the long prayer is ended. All these mistakes of construction should be corrected; and then, a Liturgy should be adopted. The opposition of the Puritans of Cromwell's day, to the prayers and mode of worship perfected by the martyrs and saints of the Church of Christ, ought not to be continued. It is no reason now, that we should sit while singing because Epis- copalians stand; nor that we sit in prayer, because Epis- copalians kneel; anymore than that because two centuries ago one sect of Christians wore their hair in ringlets, others were bound to wear their hair cropped close. 'We have no longer any conscience about the style of wearing Our hair, and the time ought now to have come, when the best method of conducting the public worship of God should be adopted. We hope our readers will pardon the digression we have made while Doctor Auchmuty was making his " long prayer." This done, he gave out the 103d Hymn, 1st Book, common measure "I'm not ashamed to own my Lord, Or to defend his cause." DOCTOR AUCHM'UTY'S SERMON. 219 When this was sung, there was a universal nestling of the congregation and rustling of silks, as they sunk into a comfortable position for the sermon. The old doctor opened to the 14th Luke, and paused, while he looked over the entire audience. "' I pray thee, have me excused.' Luke, 16th chap- ter, 18th verse: 'I pray thee, have me excused;' " and the doctor, as he repeated his text with emphasis, glanced his eye upon Mr. Argyle. He then cleared his throat of phlegm (which wasn't there), and raising his specs- over his forehead, collected himself for his exordium. "Now he'll catch it," whispered Mrs. St. John to Miss "Ivy Green," with whom for this day she was seated, so as to have a full view of Mr. Argyle and Meda. We do not mean to preach the sermon over again that was delivered by the doctor. He contrasted the great difference between the anxiety of his hearers to- secure an invitation to the great parties of the present day, with their contempt of the Lord's supper. He hit Mr. Argyle and Meda very hard for their " midnight revels," and Mr. Argyle in particular, because he would not accept the vacant eldership. This was done to the entire satisfaction of Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Duncan, both of whom had waited on the doctor, and ex- pressed the hope, " that he would be faithful to brother Robert." What an odd sight that congregation presented! The sly looks of some; the direct stare of others; all direct- ed into the pew of Mr. and Mrs. Argyle. - Meda, dear girl! looked up at the minister, with a steady gaze, unconscious that there was any thing in all this, in any way concerning herself more than others. Not so Mr. Argyle; he seemed page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 MARRYING TOO LATE. to have adopted the example of the " noble Bereans," for he took up his Bible, and during the sermon was turning over the pages, backwards and forwards, rapidly and con- stantly. It was evident he did not find these matters so clear as they were to others present, who never so much as opened their Bibles once during the discourse. Every thing comes to an end, and so didothe sermon of the old divine. Meda was slow to move. She waited for the congregation to disperse. Then Mrs. MacAlpine came to the door of her pew, and spoke to her husband and her- self; next, Mrs. St. John and Miss Ida Duncan; then Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, Lucretia and the little folks; next Mr. and Mrs. Ross, all whose pews were at the sides of the pulpit walls. Mr. Argyle whispered in the ear of his brother-in-law, Mr. Duncan, a request for him to accom- pany him home; which he agreed to do. They all then went down the aisle to the door, and Mr. Duncan took his seat in the carriage of Mr. Argyle. Nothing was said-'not a word, during the ride home, by Mr. Argyle. Meda, however, found a plenty to talk about with Mr. Duncan. On entering his house, Mr. Argyle, excusing himself to Meda, walked with Mr. Duncan into his library, which was his Sanduzm, and closed the door. The interview was an hour long, and Mr. Argyle accompanied Mr. Dun- can to the hall-door with a flushed face, and tones showing how deeply his feelings had been outraged. When he entered the parlor, Meda was frightened, and wondered what had happened between the brothers. At dinner nothing was said-by Mr. Argyle, who left Meda entirely EFECT OF THE SERMON. 221 to his nephew, Argyle, who told her of his having heard a most eloquent discourse from Doctor Cheever at the Pil- grim church. The day was clear and cold, and Mr. Argyle asked to be excused, as he needed a walk. He returned at dark, all in a glow, with a face restored to its happy expression. "Tell me, dear husband, what has happened?" "Nothing, my Meda; but I am now all ready for tea. Will you please order it up?" After tea, friends called, among them Mr. and Mrs. John Smith and Mr. Winterbottom, and the clouds were all gone from the brow of Mr. Argyle, and lMeda forgot entirely the first sermon she had listened to in her new home. , page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] CHAPTER XXV. THE INTERVIEW OF MR. ARGYE AND HS NEPHEW, CON- CERNING RACHEL RICHARDSON. MR. ARGYE DUNCAN, before leaving the dinner-table, had asked Mr. Argyle to give him an hour after breakfast the next day in his library, which was granted. It was un- fortunate for him to have done so, but he knew nothing of what had happened till the next morning, when the ser- mon was made the subject of conversation at the breakfast table. Mrs. Duncan thought "Doctor Auchmuty was to be commended and upheld; and now nobody could say,' he whipped absent members over the backs of those present.' And surely, if dancing was to be put down, it must be first put down in the homes of church members." "Why put it down at all?" asked Lucretia. "I think Mrs. Meda Argyle was right. She has conducted her party in the way she saw best, and certainly saved it from being wretchedly stupid, as all great parties are without music and dancing. Which, mother, is worst, OF DANCING. 223 dancing or drinking? for certain it is, if you do not pro- vide amusements which are graceful and attractive to the young, they will go in for the spoils of the supper table with their seniors." "You are very complimentary, child," said Mrs. Dun- can sharply. "I believe my remark," replied Lucretia, " conforms to the condition of our social life--here and elsewhere. Mrs. Argyle provided a band of the best music, and kept us above stairs, out of the way of temptation; and in so doing, she should be by. all commended rather than censured." "I Really, husband," said Mrs. D., appealing to this gen- tleman who sat reading a paper, or seeming to do so, thus avoiding any share in such controversies, " have you noth- ing to say?" "Yes, my dear, I have. I have to say, that our vener- able minister by his morning sermon has done nothing for the promotion of piety. That he has roused brother Rob- bie to such a pitch of passion as will, I fear, separate him from our church, greatly to my regret. As for dancing at parties in private houses, I have to say this, some forty or fifty years since, this matter came under consideration of the General Assembly, if I remember correctly, sitting at Trenton, New Jersey. There were present the master- minds of our Church, both lay and clerical, and this ques- tion was discussed for days, in all its bearings, and it was decided, that dancing was not to be proscribed in the Hiomes of church members." ' Vhat, waltzing and polking!'" cried Mrs. Duncan. page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224 MARRYING TOO LATE. "Waltzing and polking are modern dances, my dear wife, not known a half century since. The question is not, what sort of dances? for variety will be sought for in dancing as in dressing. It is dancing. Now, then, as dancing has been, from the days before the flood, the ex- pression of joyousness, so it seems to me wisest, safest, and best, for us parents, to hold our children in strict supervi- sion under our own roofs, rather than to drive them away to assembly-rooms where we cannot ourselves accompany them." ".Upon my word," cried Mrs. Duncan, "I didn't expect this from you; but somehow, you never do think with me in any thing." "Far from this, my love; I think with you most hap- ily in most matters. Certainly, in my admiration of four home management of our domestic concerns." "Was uncle Robert really roused-was he very ngry?" asked Robert. ' I have never seen him so roused before, and hope I ever may again. I am charged with a message to Dr. Luchmuty, which will be quoite as unpalatable for him hear, as his sermon was, yesterday morning, to your ncle." "And will you deliver it?" asked Mrs. Duncan. "Every word," replied the husband sternly. "What good will come of it?"--for Mrs. Duncan felt )rself particeps criminis in the matter of the sermon. "It may possibly save a rupture. It is the only thing ft to be done. Honesty,'my dear children, is not only e best policy; it is more: it is the best Wisdom." ROBERT SEES S HS UNCLES AID. 325 Mr. Argyle was at the breakfast-table, when his nephew entered the parlor. "Pardon me for coming so early," said Robert. "Not too soon, my nephew," said Meda, " for you shall have a cup of my tea. I have learned to make tea equal to Mrs. McCrie. Haven't I, Caro?" Mr. Argyle bowed his acquiescence. He was not in a good humor.- The sermon had come back to his memory, and he found it a hard task to be himself. - Meda saw the look of inquiry on the face of Argyle Duncan, and drew his attention to herself, by making'the customary inquiries after the family, and then slid into a talk about the friends who made up her party. She ex- pressed her sincerest pleasure with the society her hus- band had collected around her, and her longing hope, that she should soon be received among them, not as a strawn ger, but as one " to the manner born." This talk of theirs afforded Mr. Argyle time to read the morning papers, in such quiet of mind as he could command, "You have come up, Argyle, to see me?" said Mr. Argyle, laying down the paper, and rising from the table*. ' Excuse us, Meda, while we go into the library." Robert felt awkward at first, but he soon became fluent when he came to speak of Rachel, and- hiss love for her) and her love for him. Mr, Argyle listened quietly till he had come to an end. He asked his nephew if he had not forgotten the existence of. Miss Angelina Tompkins, who had for years cherished hopes, which, if destroyed, mightr carry her to the grave of a galloping consuwmption" using the very words of Mrs^ Duncanm 10o page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 22? MARRYING TOO LATE. "Galloping consumption!" cried Robert. "That is a new phase, truly.. If you had seen her at your supper table last Thursday night, you might have said it, and no mistake. My dear uncle, this young lady has but one attraction, and that is her wealth. I ask you, Uncle Rob- ert, if my sweet aunt had been without wealth, would she, have been less an object of your admiration and love? Would you have said, ( She is very beautiful, but I must have money as well as beauty, grace and intellect 9?" "You touch me, Robert, in a tender spot; but your case and mine are not alike. I have wealth equal to all my wants and Meda's; but not so my nephew. His tastes are all graduated to a scale which he has no means to gratify, but by a union with one who possesses the wealth he needs. So you see, my dear boy, our stand- points are not one and the same." "But, uncle, can you counsel me to give up Rachel? Is that honest? is it true-hearted?" "What does the young lady say?" "Rachel says, the sacrifices I make are such as, she fears, are too great for her ever to repay. She is not will- ing I should unite myself to poverty such as hers." "A very sensible young lady," said Mr. Argyle. "You astonish me, uncle! Can it be that you, who are so happy in loving the object of your affections, can counsel me to give up mine? Do you think such conduct, so mercenary and mean, can be pleasing to God? No, my uncle; God has united my heart and Rachel's, and no prudential motives can be entertained, without dishonor- ing our confidence in his love. And for whom am I to I i . MR. ARGYE'S ADVICE TO ROBEOT. 227 give up Rachel? For Angelina Tompkins! who has not one sentiment in her soul to be awakened by me." "You are very hard upon your young friend." "Dear uncle, we have never- held the relations of friendship even. Lucretia, who seems to be all head and no heart, long ago thought she would secure Angelina to me for a rich wife, and in her school-days talked this idea into Angeiina's head; but I assure you, so this young lady marries, it is no matter who her husband is, if he is styl- ish, and of a good family." "Well, my nephew, it is not well to ' marry in haste and repent at leisure.' I will talk with your mother about it." "No, uncle! don't talk to my mother. Talk with my father; but please don't disturb my mother." "And what does your father say?" "He says he hopes I shall prove myself worthy of the love of dear Rachel, and that he will do what he can to promote our happiness." "Indeed! and is this so?" "Certainly it is, Uncle Robert; -who says it is not?" "Enough, my boy, of this. I will see your father; and, in the mean time, let the matter rest. I am at this time greatly pressed with my own affairs, but I will not forget to think of this. Miss Richardson and yourself are both young, and there is no need of haste. In such matters it is best to ' hasten slowly.' " Robert tried to smile at his uncle's wisdom, and was thinking how best toreply, when McCrie opened the door, page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 MAR G Ym TOO tLATE and said, "The carriage is at the-door, sir." Mr. Argyle invited Robert to ride down town with him, "Does aunty go with you, sir? ' "No; perhaps you would like to stay and keep her company?" Robert bowed his acquiescence; and on returning to the parlor, they found Meda seated with her lap full of bills, with old Donald and wife in attendance, making up the account of house expenses for the last week. Meda was delighted to have Argyle junior to keep her company, and set him to adding up the columns of the various bills lying before her. It was evident to all concerned, the young wife meant to be the mistress of her own house, and carefully exact in all matters of economy and expen- diture. The bills, being compared, were all entered upon Meda's memorandum-book, and a check drawn for the entire sum in favor of Donald McCrie, who was directed to pay the bills, and bring them back duly receipted. This being; done, the papers and books were handed to Mrs. McCrie to keep. "Now, my dear nephew, I am at your service, Shall I play for you, or sing for you? "Neither, my beloved aunty. I came to tell you all about Rachel ;" and Robert told his tale with all the im- passioned amplification his heart suggested. Meda lis- tened with earnestness, and aided him by queries, helping him to further developments, more tender and passionate as he saw these were lovingly entertained by Meda. "Is it because Rachel has so recently lost her father, EOMET AND MEDA. 229 that you cannot be at once married?" asked Meda when he had ended. "No, indeed, aunty; it is because, having lost her father and her fortune, she is a penniless orphan, and I have nothing. Then, my tastes are expensive, and Rachel is too delicate to labor; nor can I ask her to work with her hands. You see how we are placed. If my uncle had stood by me, as I hoped he would have done-" "As he will do!" interrupted Meda. "Then I could marry Rachel without delay." "Pray, tell me, what can your uncle do? What is it you wish him to do?" This was a very natural query for Meda to make, but it was one which greatly embarrassed Robert. He felt it awkward to put his wishes into words. Meda saw it at once, and continued: "Leave this matter to me, my dear Mr. Robert. When shall I see Rachel? Will you bring her here, or shall I call upon her? Perhaps it will be more grateful to her for me to call; at what hours is she at leisure? ' "Dear aunt, I wish you would call at the Spingler Institute any day from four to six, when she is at leisure." Meda made the promise to do so, and Robert took leave of his aunt, loving her more than ever. page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] CH-APTER XXVI. ME DA VISIT'S RAC EIL. THE next day, Meda, returning from a drive down town, ordered her coachman to take her to the Spingler Insti- tute. / It was not within the hours prescribed 'by Robert, but it suited Meda to call, and she sent in her card. Ra- chel returned a message that-she would receive her. The parlors were empty. Meda occupied herself in examining a picture of uncommon merit from the pencil of Thomas Cole. Twenty minutes had passed, uncon- sciously to Meda, all which while poor Rachel was at her wits end, making her toilette, hoping to make a favorable impression upon this lady, of whom she had heard so much, and of whom she hoped so much. Meda was be- ginning to :look round for the young lady, when the door opened, and Rachel, with a timid look, clad in deep mourning, made her appearance. Following her womanly instinct, Meda, with a frank, affectionate air and out- stretched hand, advanced to meet Rachel, whom she f' RACHEL AND MEDA. 231 kissed on both cheeks, and then full upon her lips. Ra- chel was- a little embarrassed, which gave iehda the oppor- tunity to tell her she would soon get accustomed to her manner. "It will be your fault if we are not friends. I have so great love for my nephew, that I cannot but adopt into my affections one whom he so dearly loves." This was going, as learned folks say, iz medias res, and Rachel did nothing but blush; but it was sweetly done, and her half-raised eye, bright and glowing, swam in teats unshed. Meda was charmed; and placing her arm round Rachel's waist, led her to a sofa, and in a conversa- tion we need not repeat, assured Rachel of her warm sym- pathy. "Fear not, sweet Rachel," said Meda; " such Jlove as Robert's will certainly be to you a fountain of joy and blessedness." "It is very sweet to hear you say so," said Rachel; "but I don't see how it can ever be. Neither of us are fitted for the wear and tear of life, unaided and alone. It would be selfish in me to marry him, when wealth and prosperity await him elsewhere." "Is it possible!" cried Meda. " Can it be, that- a girl not yet twenty can talk in this manner? I never have thought any thing impossible. Nor would it have been a hard task, had fate so willed, to have explored the depths of penury, so I was upheld by love. I have been often admired, but till now I have never been loved. The love of my husband will never change, but* grow brighter and brighter for ever. Have you, dear girl, the confidence in your Robert that I have in mine? page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] 232 MAURYING TOO t,AtP,. "Perfect and entire. He is all I could wish--if he were a Chritian," and Rachel sighed. "Pray, what is he? A St. Simonian, a Fourierite, or what else is he? I thought that he was perfectly good and lovable." "He is," said Rachel, blushing, "but he is not a Christian." ! "Is it possible I I thought this was a country of Christians." "They are called so.7' "My sweet lady, you shall teach me the mysteries you speak of some other time; but just now we are talking about what is no mystery-the love of Robert for you; and the only mystery I see is, of your finding it in your. heart to deny him your hand. That is a mystery!" "You are a stranger in our country and city, dear Mrs. Argyle. You will find out that it is impossible for Robert to retain his social position without fortune; and if he marries me, he will fink like lead in the waters." "What a sweet mill-stone Robert would have around his neck I wonder you have never asked yourself, 'What of it? ' Suppose it be so, that the distinctions of society depend mainly upon money, and the standard of merit be a residence in a particular quarter, and the main- tenance of an equipage. What of it, Rachel? Are you not cruelly questioning the nobility of the love of my nephew, and confessing the poverty of your own soul? And what is it, to live in a remote section of this great city? Will you not be as well housed, and have around you men and women as well bred, as now? If so, where RACHELS. SAD THOOUGHTS. 233 is the great sacrifice Robert makes for you, or you for Robert? Let us hope for the best." Meda and Rachel rose. Placing her arm round RachelPs waist, Meda again paced the rooms from one pier glass to the other, and compared heights and the color of their hair, and in various little ways sought to create a feeling of companionship in the heart of Rachel. -She asked after her duties, her hours of recitation, and her days of leisure. This occupied a half hour, and certainly gained much on Rachel, who felt more and more assured that Meda was willing to love her for Robert's sake. Nor was it a whit the less delightful to her heart (when subsequently she analyzed this feeling), to know that it came to her through him. "Here! my dear Rachel, wear this as my pledge of fidelity and love;" so saying, Meda took off a brilliant, and placed it upon Rachel's forefinger. "It is our engage- ment-ring. Adieu, ma scwurf' and kissing her hand play- fully, Meda took leave. Rachel ran up to her room, and sitting down, looked at the ring. She had seen Meda; had heard her speak; and this was the proof of her love and sympathy. The tears came, and bitter recollections rose with her tears, that she was now in a condition that made it possible for such a gift to be given her in token of sympathy. "Ah!" thought Rachel, " it would not have been thus a year ago! Then, I should have met Mrs. Argyle on equal terms; now, now I am a school-teacher, to be sought out and have a ring, diamond though it be, put upon my finger in token of what-love? no, pity and compassion." But Rachel -' page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] 284 MARRYING TOO LATE. roused herself out of this wretched condition of mind, wondering how it could be that such thoughts should rise in her heart. "How kind it was in Mrs. Argyle to come so promptly! A year ago I too could have done this; but how have all things darkened down upon me! What pin- nacles of light, losing the sunshine of fortune, are now shrouded in vapor and gloom!"- Meda's manner stood the severest scrutiny. Rachel could not recollect one single expression not entirely grateful to, her heart: she could recall nothing to make her unhappy. How unlike the visits of some of her early friends, and how glad she had been to be left alone, forgotten. But Mrs. Argyle met all the longings of her heart for love and tenderness. "Yes," said Rachel to herself, ' I will believe God loves me, and designs to bless me. I have written hard things against His holy Providence. It must be, that loving me, my Father in Heaven will make my path of life bright and beautiful. It is childlike in me to believe this, arid I will be glad.' Poor girl! she had no sooner spoken these words, than she'burst into a flood of tears. But they relieved a heart full of conflicting emotions. She wept long, and when her tears-were all shed; she bathed her face in cold water, and washed all traces of them away. The bell rang for dinner! She had been two hours out of school! but she had no fears of censure from her kind employers, whose hearts were, full of tenderness towards her. Those young ladies who sat at table near Rachel, and who knew all about' Robert's being the lover of Rachel, were quick at discovering the ( engagement-ring " on her finger, and guessed at once what made her look so THE SPINGLER INSTITUTE. 235 serene and cheerful. Their interest and admiration of Rachel were greatly enhanced, for in their young hearts she took rank at once above those her elders and superiors, who wore no such rings, nor were likely to do so. Indeed, the love of these girls by whom she was surrounded, was as a grateful odor, for ever investing her. Her story was known to all, and every heart poured forth its sympathy in tones and looks, which, coming from the heart, reached the heart. Perhaps no greater amelioration of her sad fortunes could have been conferred upon Rachel, than the home she found in the Spingler Institute. Here it was her happi- ness, no less than her duty, to aid in the formation of the character of her pupils, and by her own example, as well as by her precepts, to aid her eminently gifted and pious patrons to realize the aim and end of their Institute, in sending forth into the homes of families, " living epistles " of loveliness; daughters fully fitted for the duties, as well as the delights of society, and capacitated to assume, by moral as well as intellectual culture, the highest, holiest, and happiest relations of life page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] CHAPTER XXVII. I A CONVERSATION BETWEEN TEE SISTERS CONOERNING MEDA. MRS. MEDA ARGYE was a star of the first magnitude at all the great parties for the season. .Her taste and elegance were acknowledged to be faultless; and then her diamonds were, beyond all question, of the purest water, and worn by one for whom diamonds were certainly created. Mrs. D'Osman, and some other ladies, who did not belong to the Argyle circle, sought, as best they could, to cast a shadow over Medals brightness; but these were powerless when con- tending with the aristocracy of worthi as well as of wealth, which surrounded Mrs. Argyle, and by whom she had been adopted with entire affection and confidence. It was distressing to Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Duncan to, see what- a change had come over their dear "brother Robbie." He endured the fatigues of a gay season sur- prisingly, and to the astonishment of his sisters; for, till now he had been " a man of regular habits," and in bed every night before eleven o'clock. They did not know that X .. \ COLLOQUY OF THE SiSTEJKS. 23 towards this change they had themselves contributed, by setting old Doctor Auchmuty upon their brother, and making his present conduct a bravado, to manifest his con- tempt of such ministrations as had welcomed him home. Meda was very happy. She danced only with her nephews and young Archy McAlpine, a fine fellow of twenty-one, with the ambition of a gentleman of thirty. And when the ball-rooms were comparatively vacant, Meda joined in the waltzing-and polking, which this season were all the rage. "Oh! what ajscandal it is," said Mrs. Duncan to Mrs. Ross, one bright winter's morning, when that lady had called to compare notes with Mrs. D. after a grand party, ' to see brother Robbie, a man who was always at home in his slippers by ten o'clock, now a looker-on in a ball-room at one and two o'clock, seeing his wife' whisking round and- round the room in a way not to be described." "How is it that you know so much, sister?"asked Mrs. Ross. "Oh! I hear all your Theodore has to say, talking over matters with Lucretia." A" nd what says Lucretia? Her judgment is far bet- ter on questions of propriety than my son's." "Lucretia! Lucretia: is carried away with Meda., She thinks Meda, to use her own words, the embodiment of grace.'" "Is it possible! and does Lucretia:dance these new- fangled -dances,- polking, and what not?" "I am really ashamed to tell you, sister, that since Meda has come, she has done so; only,' as she says,' to page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 238 MARRYING TOO LATE. keep Meda in countenance, so that it shouldn't be said she stood by reprovingly.' " a"Lucretia is very kind, very thoughtful. I should not have expected so much from her. It is wonderful that she should be willing to make so great a sacrifice of her often-expressed sentiments." "My dear sister, you know how these girls are! Lu- cretia never would waltz in public, till Meda came; and now, would you believe it, she is learning to polk " Mrs. Ross lifted up her hands in token of her amaze- ment. "Yes!") continued Mrs. Duncan, "ever since Lord Hill brought letters to her from Adela Tripp D'Oyle, all her scruples about waltzing at parties have been solved. He waltzes, and will waltz only with Lucretia. And of late she has been taking lessons of him in polking. I de- clare to you, sister, I regard this dance as scandalous." "How is it, sister, you know any thing about it? 9 "Well, if I must confess, I must tell you. Lord Hill and Theodore and Meda have consented to teach Lucretia the step, and Monsieur Dupuis has been employed to play the violin, while his wife plays the piano. I thought it matronly in me to come in with my worsted-work, and see what was going on. I don't know what Doctor Auchmuty would have said or thought, but such jigging! and whirl- ing! and turning! rushing from one end of the room, and then back again; Lucretia's chin just over Lord Hill's shoulder, and her hand upon his breast, and his arm round her waist! really! really!" and here Mrs. Duncan paused, and took a long breath. "I don't know what girls are "ORD HLL AND LUORETIA DUNCAN. 23 made of, nowadays! I really don't! And to see the lil erty this young lord takes!" "1 How is it with Meda?"asked Mrs. RoSs, seeing he sister was about to end this very interesting colloquy. "Why, Meda, I must say, has a poise of manner, a ce: tain modest bearing and restraint, so that it is beautiful' t see her dancing. She is evidently delighted with th dance, and nothing else." "And how about Lucretia?" "I have told Lucretia, that so far as I could see wit my poor eyes, she was thinking more of the man that hel her in his arms, than of any thing else. Why, that beauti ful raised floss-silk, that you admired so much, was fraye all out after a single morning's polking- with -Lord Hill cut to pieces by his embossed buttons.'? "' What was Lucretia thinking of " cried Mrs. RosE astonished at such wastefulness. "Thinking! why she was no doubt thinking she is modern Cinderella, and Lord Hill is the prince who wil take her to Buckingham House, where she will out-riva Adela Tripp D'Oyle; but I tell her the clock will soo] strike twelve, and she will be disenchanted." "Does Meda polk with this young lord?" "Sometimes she does; but then he holds her aes gi gerly as if she was a thistle without the down. Ah! h in some way offended, her yesterday morning, and sh whirled herself out of his' arms, and, bounding across th room, came and sat down at my side. I saw she was offend ed, for her cheek was flushed and her eye flashed fire. H came up, and in Italian offered her an apology of some page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 MARRYING TOO LATE. sort. She replied in English, 'You have offended me, sir, by your rudeness or awkwardness, and I shall save myself from a recurrence of either.' The young lord was cruelly cut down, and was evidently very sorry." The conversation then turned to matters of family con- cernment, which we need not repeat. It was evident that Meda, in spite of all the prejudices entertained by these ladies, was gaining upon their regard, and unconsciously to themselves, they were made to feel that the happiness of their brother, notwithstanding all the sacrifices he had made of his regular hours, was increased by having mar- ried this lovely Italian girl. CHAPTER XXVIII. MEDA AND RACHEL. THE most affectionate friendship -grew up between Meda and Rachel. It soon became a custom for Rachel to dine at Mr. Argyle's on Fridays, and to spend Saturday and Sunday with Meda. This was gratifying to Mr. Argyle, who was pleased to see this intimacy between his wife, and one so good, and piously inclined as Rachel. Mr. Argyle would sit by, seemingly deep in the last "(North British," listening to the amusing discussions of Meda with Rachel on all matters which came up. Meda was the admirer of Mozart, of Beethoven, and the Ger. man school: Rachel was for the men of modern times; and when nothing else remained, the piano was resorted to, and hours were spent, earnestly and absorbingly, in showing up the beauties and defects of these great masters of the divine art. And when the literature of the day came to be considered, the authors were brought out, and' their volumes laid (a row of them sometimes) upon the " (. page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 MARRYING TOO LATE. table. Now, since the days of Mr. Licentiate Pero Perez and Mr. Nicholas (Don Quixote's priest and barber), never were books and authors treated with more unspa- ring severity. Only a few would bear the ordeal of Rachel's taste and criticism. As for Meda, she pitched the volume under the table, remorselessly, without a scruple, when once rejected by Rachel. That book was for ever " done for,", Meda sought to enlist the sympathy of her husband for Robert and Rachel, but he would tell her the wisest sayings about the advantage-to these young hearts, to be thus early pupils in the severe school of discipline and self-control. "Dearest," said Meda, as'she had completed one of her controversies about Robert and Rachel, "I never can understand why you should say such things to me. I have-been cheating myself with foolish imaginings, that if I had been a peasant girl, you would have loved me as truly as now. Ah! this is all my foolish vanity; and your love, my husband, is nothing but a pyramid of contin- gents, which, if they crumble, will become a heap of shapeless ruin. I am sad to think so." "My sweet wife," replied Mr. Argyle, passionately, "do you not see that the standard for Robert's conduct and mine are no way alike? Let him make his fortune, and then he will be happy in its possession." "I cannot understand you, my Caro. It is utterly out of all comprehension of mine, that you should talk so to me." "Indeed, my love; when the world is full of exam- ples of the benefits of such discipline?" COLLOQUY CONCERNING RACHEL. 243 s I see nothing like it," said Meda, looking with a wondering gaze on the massive service of silver on the dinner-table, at which they then sat, and from the table, looking up at the portrait of Mr. Argyle's father, the great merchant, and next to the picture of his'uncle, the Scotch manufacturer and agriculturist. "I see nothing which teaches me the blessedness of poverty." "You pretty rogue!' " cried Mr. Argyle, rising from the table and kissing Meda; "I acknowledge myself con- quered, and utterly routed in the argument." "And you will aid Robert, and endow him so that he may marry Rachel, and we will make our summer tour with them. It will be our wedding-trip in this country, as well as theirs, and it will be so delightful!" Meda clapped her hands with delight at the thought of having achieved this grand and long-sought-for triumph. "Meda, my sweet wife, you have never read Hudibras. That is one of the authors not as yet thrown under the table. His turn will come one of these days, when you get to the upper shelves of my library." "Hudibras! who is he? I never heard of him?" "There was a humorist and poet, named Samuel Butler, who wrote a famous poem, called I Hudibras,' in the days of Charles II., two hundred years ago." "Yes! and what did he say pertinent to what we are talking of? ( He said, or Hudibras is made to say, 'The man persuaded against his will4 Is of the same opinion still.'" page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 244 MAERRYIiNG TOO LATE. Meda's reply, and the manner of it, was very sweet and persuasive; and though Mr. Argyle confessed himself beat, yet it was "a conclusion in which nothing is con- cluded," and poor Meda sometimes was in despair of seeing her hopes for Robert and Rachel realized. The winter passed away rapidly, and Lent came, and the fashionable world at once put on a pious aspect. Parties and balls were over, and those who had no more sympathy with the fasts than with the feasts appointed by the church- es of Rome and England, by common consent, with the recurrence of Lent, put an end to the " gay season," well weary of the wear and tear of society; glad of a respite, and of an opportunity to prepare their wardrobes for the coming season of rustication at the springs, or on the sea-shore. Meda was very happy. At home she occupied herself in the morning with housekeeping; then she had her teach- ers in music, three mornings of each week; and, in a studio she had had fitted up in the attic, molrings not occupied in music were devoted to painting, aided by an artist whose time was to be had for money. To these pursuits she devoted two hours, with the greatest regularity; and Mr. Argyle found himself pressed once more into the ser- vice which he hated most of all-to sit for his portrait; but now Meda was the painter; and so constantly was he deserting his position to run round and see how Meda was getting on, that after she had made a sketch of his full- length, (for it was to be a full-length!) and had " rubbed MEDALS CIROLE OF FRIENDS. : 245 in " his head, and his eyes began to look out of the canvas, in utter despair of all progress, this labor of love was given up, and Mr. Argyle dismissed as an intruder. At twelve, Meda was ready to go out for her morning exercise-a walk of at least one hour, in which she was usually accom- panied by Elvira. This walk accomplished, making the necessary change in her'dress, Meda entered her carriage to make her calls, on all days other than Tuesday, which had been selected as her day of reception--a most sensi- ble arrangement adopted by ladies in our great cities. Meda had her most loved circle of friends; among these stood Mrs. MacAlpine, Mrs. DeLisle, Mrs. Lloyd, and Mrs. St. John; and the paradise of these splendid homes to Meda was the nursery. A bright, healthful baby, was to Meda an object of idolatry. Mrs.- St. John felt it to be a reli- gious duty to impress upon Meda the more than doubtful happiness of such " creature comforts." Long before the summer vacation took place, Meda invited Rachel to accompany her on her summer tour, saying, "My dear husband has- promised to invite his nephew, and we four will make up a most charming little party." Rachel sighed, and said she was not able to pay her own expenses, and was not willing to be under such obliga- tions to Mr. Argyle. "Obligations to my husband! You are under ob- ligation to no one, my, sweet sister. Look here!" and Meda opened her cabinet (for they were in Medals cham- ber), and taking up a little sheepskin-covered book, opened it, and showed " Bank of Metropolis in account with Mrs. page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 246 MARRYING TOO LATE. Meda Montaldi Argyle." "There, Rachel," said Meda, ' you see two deposits of drafts sent me by my father, of a thousand pounds each; and of this money I have drawn out less than two hundred dollars. Indeed, I have no use of money, unless you will share it with me. Oh! Rachel, did you not promise to love me as a sister? and your pride wounds me." Rachel wept in the arms of Meda. It was too true. She was too proud to be happy in benefits conferred, even by Meda. But this interview resulted in breaking down all barriers to Rachel's makling the tour with Meda. Of this tour of travel we have little to say. These scenes are too familiar to our readers to bear repetition. After visiting Canada, Niagara, Saratoga, Newport, and making some stay at Mr. Argyle's farm at tHopedale, Hamilton County, Mr. Argyle's party reached home in high health early in October, in time to be present at the receptiox at Mrs. Tompkins', on the day of the wedding of Miss Angelina to Mr. Charles Edward Spoolman, now full partner of the eminent house of Staytape, Twist & Co. As all the parties belonged to the class of Kilmannseggs, the feast was as splendid an affair as gold could make it. Only one matter had, during the last year, disquieted Reda; her father had not remitted the twenty thousand )ounds sterling paid by Mr. Argyle for her diamonds. She had been at first impatient for her father to come to few Yoirk, but now she felt in her heart a reluctance to is coming; for, as she more and more assimilated with the MR. ARGYE AN) THE DIAMONDS. 247 home-circles of her friends, Meda felt that these friends would never be agreeable to him. And if this should prove true, there must follow a feeling of separation from her father which could not but be painful alike to both. On the tenth of November she received a letter from her father, who had been detained in Italy ever since her marriage, in which he announced his arrival at Paris, and that by the next steamer he would remit to her in a draft the- sum of one hundred thousand dollars, so long promised and impatiently waited for by her. Mr. Argyle had assured her, over and over, that, next to herself, he was charmed with. her diamonds, -which he hoped would remain ever with her as his gift; until at last he grew impatient at the restlessness Meda manifested, as in some way derogating from Meda's confidence in her husband's love. So it was, these diamonds had become a forbidden topic between them. And in saying this to Meda, Mr. Argyle was perfectly sincere. He had a thou- sand times rejoiced in the purchase of Meda's diamonds, for they silenced the speculations of anxious friends and relatives. The schedules and papers contained in the casket had been most carefully examined by Lucretia. She affected to be only interested in seeing the different values set upon them; and was entirely satisfied. Robert hastened up town with this letter, as was his custom on the arrival of the steamer's mail with letters for Meda; and seeing his dear aunt so happy, he told her of his own affairs, and his fears that he should fail of obtain- ing the full partnership interest'in their firm for the want of thirty thousand dollars cash, to pay over to' Mr. Galt, page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 DAERYING TOO TLATE. who was about to retire, and whose interest Langhorne wished him to purchase. His father would endorse his notes for the balance, but he could not raise the money to make this cash payment. Now was the time for Meda to help him. If he could but purchase out Galt, his fortune was made. The years of pressure were past, and their house had done a famous business the last year, and would do business to a greater amount for the next year. In- deed, as Robert went on with enthusiasm, Meda said her husband must raise the money. He could do it by selling out stocks, and he must do it. It was with the most con- fident assurances of success and promises of aid, thatfRob- ert left Meda, with a thousand blessings from Rachel and himself, for now their union would be certain. That day, after dinner, Meda sought to secure the money needed by Robert to secure the full partnership in the house of Langhorne & Co. Mr. Argyle, innocent of her purpose, was beguiled by her caresses to make promises to any extent; but the moment Meda told him she wanted him to sell stocks to raise thirty thousand dollars, to place his nephew in the place of Mr. Galt, his brow became cloudy. He could not sell his stocks; that 'was not to be thought of. Then Meda proposed he should sell one, two or more of his hundred houses; but that did not suit him; then as a'last hope, she seriously proposed that he should melt up his plate. This offer seemed so absurd, that it at once restored Mr. Argyle to a merry mood, and he ended the discussion by assuring Meda, that tihe must leave these matters with those who best under- stood them. -*;v THE INT UITIONS OF WOMEN, 249 "How can you be so cold and calculating?" cried Meda. "My sweet wife, you are the creature of impulse. Your intuitions are infallible, and you can see nothing between you and success." "Yes I I am a woman. My intuitions are to me light from heaven, shed in upon my soul; and it is so cruel, when you can make Rachel and Robert happy by a sacrifice of money, not to do it." Meda made up a pretty lip to cry, but Mr. Argyle would not give her tears time to collect, but taking her up in his arms, he ran with her into the saloon, and there he set her down, and seizing his hat, left the house for his after-dinner walk. page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] CHAPTER XXIX. MEDA PAWNS HER JEW ELS. MEDA stood for a moment in a state of deep dejection and incertitude. "What can I do?" asked Meda. "It must be done, and I must do it." Now when a woman of earnestness and character says " a thing must be done," it is the nearest approximation to certainty, and the accom- plishment of impossibilities, that is attainable by humanity. "I will pledge my diamonds!" cried Meda; -" yes I I hate to wear them; they are worthless to me; and they are out of place in the circles of my friendships. I do not want to outshine Mrs. D'Osman and her set. They wear jewels to win attention. I need no such ornaments to secure the friendship of all I love, and who love me. My father's letter and my jewels will raise me the money, and the money shall be raised. Robert shall take the place of Mr. Oalt, and Rachel's happiness will be perfect. How glad I am to show Rachel how much I love her. But what will my father say? I can't tell: and my hus- MR. DONALD MUIR. 251 band? Oh! he will never quarrel with me. No! we will kiss and make up. My path is plain, and I feel I am right. My intuitions are as clear as light: I shall be successful: I know I must! be." That night and the ngxt day Meda was pondering to whom she should apply. She knew no one whom she could trust. If she were in London she would go to Run- dell & Bridges, and get the money at sight; but she was not in London, but in New York. As she sat musing, it occurred to her that she would go with them to Mr. Donald Muir, who was one of the elders of Dr. Auchmuty's church-; a dealer in silver plate, mainly, who had a splendid shop in Broadway. She had seen him often in church, and some months since had intrusted to him a necklace and diamond cross which came to her from her mother. This needed repair; and Meda had taken it herself to the shop, and had had a long talk with Mr. Muir, senior, about diamonds. Robert had called upon his aunt to hear of her suc- cess with his uncle. Meda told him it was probable she should succeed, but there was some difficulty in managing the matter; because, if Mr. Argyle should help him, Theodore Ross would be expecting like aid; and if this money should be placed in his hands, then it must be a secret never to be told, nor, indeed, alluded to, or hinted at by him to his family, .and last, not least, to Mr. Argyle. It was her affair, and she only was- to be his confidant. To all which Robert promised compliance. iHe hoped it would be soon done, for Mr. Galt was anxious to leave' early in December; for on the Ist of January, Galt -was to page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 252 MARRYING TOO LATE. take his father's place in a great manufacturing-house in Glasgow. Meda said, if done at all, it should be done that week; and while she begged him not to be sanguine of success, yet so it was, Robert left her with the most entire confidence that all and every wish of his heart would soon be realized. The next day at noon, Meda, having sent Elvira to her milliner's on an errand, took her carriage and rode down to Muir's in Broadway. Mr. Muir, senior, on being sent for, came to the door of the carriage. Meda asked him to give her an interview in his private room, which he granted. She handed him the casket wrapped up in a shawl, and followed him up a stairway to his office, in the rear of the second story. On being seated, she divested herself of her bonnet and cloak, and handed Mr. Muir her father's letter, pointing him to the postscript which spoke of the draft he would send her by the steamer for January. While he was deciphering this foreign hand- writing, Meda opened the casket. Mr. Muir, with the look of one greatly mystified, handed the letter to Meda, who at once relieved him, by saying, "I must have thirty thousand dollars this week, and I hope to raise the sum upon that letter and these jewels." The astonishment of Mr. Muir was boundless. He said not a word, but by his glance it was evident he questioned Meda's sanity. "Dear Mr. Muir, I am perfectly sane, and I ask you to listen to all I have to tell,"7 and with the utmost directness, sim- plicity and touching pathos, she told the story of Rachel and Robert. Now, then, dear Mr. Muir, it rests with IEDA AND THE joEWPLLER. 253 you to say whether these two hearts shall be glad or mis- erable. I do all I can; will you not help me?" Mr. Muir could do nothing else. He had been swept, away by Meda's eloquence. He was a man of the most tender affections under a cold exterior. He felt fully the singularity of the request made by Meda, the wife of a dear friend, in pledging her jewels without his knowledge 7 indeed, in defiance of his wishes; and then, who was Count Montaldi? and of what value were his promises to his daughter? Yet so fully did Meda take his heart along with her, that he promised to do what he could. ,' Bless you, dear Mr. Muir; you look beautiful as an angel!" cried Medaj clapping her hands. "I will pay you the bonus down for the advance," said Meda. "Here is my bank book, and I have, as you see, some money to my credit." a No, my dear lady, I am not a pawnbroker. These diamonds are yours still. They are mine only on de- posit for safety. When the money is replaced,- I will have nothing but legal interest for the-use of the money. It is a very strange proceeding for- me to be engaged in ; but I cannot deny to myself the gratification of comply- ing with your wishes." Meda rose, and offering her hand, said, O0, it is not strange for you to be kind! You can't help it. God gave you that great heart, and it is He who commands you to help me, for it was His kind inspiration that sent me here." , v Mr. Muir insisted on Meda's taking with her his acknowledgment of the casket, which, he said, should be page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 254 , MARRYING TOO LATE. carefully deposited by himself in his safe. "I will place it" said he, "in a drawer of which I will keep the key. Before next Saturday I will sell some stocks I hold, and have the money ready for you at twelve o'clock." Meda, with a buoyant step, ran down stairs, followed by Mr. Muir, who, with his precious treasures hid in news- papers, bowed, as he entered his shop-door to place it in if his safety vault. Meda, on reaching home, ran up to her studio and shut herself in. Here she exhausted herself by dancing and skipping about the spacious attic for an hour, so that when she came down to meet Mr. Argyle on his return home, he was quite anxious at the pallor of her I :heeks and her air of languor. On Saturday, leaving Rachel'at home, Meda took her arriage and drove to Mr. Muir's. He was waiting for : er coming. After they had entered the private office, , [r. Muir, with a smile which seemed hard for him to get ? p, said, "My dear lady, it is a matter of wonder to yself, that in this transaction I rely with such implicit : ith on all you have told me. My bump of caution is l rge, and yet this act is one my reason tells me is most i pautious. But I can'tfind it in my heart to draw back; I present you this check, in favor of Robert McGregor I :gyle Duncan, for thirty thousand dollars, and pray I d's blessing upon us all." , After signing the papers prepared by Mr. Muir, Meda s uested .him to go with her to Langhorne & Co.'s, in tver street, to call her nephew to her carriage, and wit- i s the delivery of the draft. He accepted her invita- I to ride with her to Beaver street, but not because of i ROBERTS SUCCESS* 255 any wish to see the draft placed in the hands of Mr. Argyle Duncan; but if it pleased her, it would please him to be taken so far on his way to Wall street, where he had business to transact. Robert came out with a countenance full of gladness, being told that Mrs. Argyle was at the door in her car- riage, waiting to see him. On his coming, Mr. Muir bowed, and- left. "Enter!" said Meda, and Robert took his seat. The footman asked, "Where next?" "To the Bank of Commerce," said Meda. "What news, my dear aunty? :t asked Robert, full of hope. "The best of news, my dear Robert. I have here a check in your favor for thirty thousand dollars, in your name; now, before I hand it to you, I must recall the deli- cacy of the position held by your uncle and myself. This is a secret never to be told, by words or signs, not even to himself; " so saying, Meda handed Robert the check. There it was! He held-it in his own hands, and read it with his own eyes I It was with difficulty he could com- mand his feelings; but it was neither the time nor place for these to be expressed, in the narrow street through which they were making their way slowly into Wall street. The Bank being reached, Robert ran in, and soon returned with a new sheepskin-covered bank-book, showing him a creditor of the Bank of Commerce for the sum of $30,000. Mr. Argyle heard of Robert's success with pleasure. He asked no questions as to how it was effected. It was no business of his; and then, he felt a little embarrassment in asking any questions, in consequence of his declining O page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 256 MABERYING TOO LATE. to further it, He was content to rest with the belief that Mr. Duncan had met the demand out of his own means. The money being paid, and the notes given, endorsed by Mr. Duncan, the announcement was made in the news- papers. "Ah I " said Jim Wilson to Fred Iardy, as they sat smoking their segars at the club-house, on the day the partnership came out, "that comes of being the best waltzer in upper tendom. Nothing like it I get the right side of a pretty woman, and all the influence you need to be exerted over a rich uncle, her husband, follows as a matter of course. I wish my uncle Winterbottom would marry I " ^ .F CHAPTER XXX. COUNT MONTALDI R EACHES NEW YORK. MEDA, having accomplished one great purpose, now at once set about getting Rachel ready to be wedded to Robert by the middle of the next month. She succeeded in persuading her husband to offer them a very snug house of his, vacated some months before, and which had under- gone a thorough repair. This done, Meda busied herself in fitting it up after her own taste, and met all this expense out of her own money. She would neither allow Mr.. Argyle nor Mr. Duncan to do any thing in the way of fur- nishing the house. She told them they might fill the china closets, and make as many presents, of plate as they pleased; but the furniture and wardrobe of Rachel was to be all of her own selection, and to be her own gift: nor did these gentlemen fail to act nobly upon her suggestion. It was the earnest request of Rachel, that her wedding should be private. Accordingly, one bright morning in December, Robert and Rachel were married in the pres- page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 MARRYING TOO LATE. ence of the family and relatives of Mr. Duncan, at Mr. Argyle's, and set off for a tour to Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington, accompanied by Theodore Ross and his sister Jane. Mr. and Mrs. Duncan and Lucretia, returning from the wedding, sat together, chatting of what had just been witnessed by them, and expressing their pleasure that Robert had with such happy auspices, commenced his com- mercial and married life. "How happy Meda is! and with what joy she is occupying her time, and spending her money, in fitting up Rachel's new home! How do you account for this, Lucretia?" asked Mrs. Duncan. "Her goodness of heart, mother," replied Lucretia. "Pardon me, my child; but goodness of heart is so very rare, that I can't accept that as the answer. Rachel and Meda are very little alike, except that they are both devoted to your brother." "Mother!" cried Lucretia, " you do great wrong to dear Meda. She has a soul transparent as water. It is impossible that Meda's love for Robert is not pure as unsunned snow." "What do you mean," replied Mrs. Duncan, " when you, speak of Meda's love of Robert? Please tell us of this love--so pure." "It is but guessing, mother, and I will guess. Meda's heart is full of activity. She-must be occupied. On her arrival, Robert, with all the enthusiasm of his nature, and admiration of beauty, met Meda, and offered her his love, as her young relative. She saw in him a young brother, hopelessly in love, and sought to aid him. Thus Rachel at COLLOQUY' CONCERNING MEDA. 259 once became an object of her love and tender sympathy. If Robert was her young brother, Rachel became her sweet sister; she would labor to create their fortunes, and be herself enriched by their love. This is all beautiful and full of sunshine. There is a shady side to dear Meda's life, which I would be glad to see dispelled." "Yes! yes! that's what I want to get at," said Mrs. Duncan. "Now let us have it all." "No, mother, I don't care to speak a word more." "My dear daughter," said Mr. Duncan, in his mild and loving manner, " you have shown great skill in divining the motives of Meda's conduct. They reflect great credit on that sweet lady. If any thought of her lies in your heart, which you feel to be derogatory of Meda, let it rest there; for its presence is not less surely proof of her frailty than of your own. I do not speak this by way of reproof, but as a caution; for, my child, we are all of us alike, of the earth, earthy; sold under sin, and totally depraved." u' I thank you, dear father, for the consolation afforded me by your concluding sentence. When I am made to stand on the same platform with the race to which I be- long, I do not feel the desperate depravity of my nature to be so very unbearable after all. I love Meda Montaldi, my father. I say this, I hope, more frequently by my actions than by my words. If I were not grateful to Meda for her unwearied manifestations of friendship to me, I should be, indeed, desperately wicked. Yet I am not blind to see Meda's isolation from all the ties of con- sanguinity and affection, before she was married to Uncle page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260, MARRYING TOO LATE. Robert. In a word, she has had no family ties, nor can she love her father." "Tell us, Lucretia, what has she told you of her father?" asked Mrs. Duncan. "You know all. I have repeated all she has told me. And all that Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd have had to say, you are acquainted with. But since she has received her late let- * ters, she evidently dreads her father's coming over. Her heart has its misgivings, and she said to me, ' My father is in Paris. He will be in London soon, and may come here. He will not be happy in this country, for my father's ideas are continental, and not at all American.' " We have repeated this conversation, to show how Lucretia interpreted the character of Meda. It was felt by all the Duncans, that Robert had attained the summit of his hopes, mainly by the generous love and influence of Meda; and they could not withhold from her a grateful expression of their love and confidence. Early in January, Meda gave a grand party to Rachel. On that day she received from Mr. Muir a magnificent basket of flowers, and a note, saying beneath the flowers she would find her casket of jewels. These Meda acknow- ledged by a grateful expression of her gratitude for this token of his friendship and confidence. The night was clear and propitious, and by eleven o'clock the mansion of Mr. Argyle was, thronged with the best society. The ball-room was crowded to excess, and the saloons below stairs were comparatively empty, when COUNT MONTALDI A"D SUITE. 261 Mr. Argyle was called from Meda's side to go into the hall, to lmeet some strangers, who had requested to be presented to him in the entry. - Some little time: elapsed, when Mr. Argyle led into the room a party of strangers. Meda flew towards her father, who came in leading a beautiful lady on his arm, and throwing her a./rms around his neck, embraced him. He received her loving welcome with a polite warmth, which seemed to Mrs. Duncan and Mrs. Ross, who sat lookers-on, a poor return for so much love. This over, the count introduced to Meda the Mar- chesa Alfieri, and next, Countess Bononi, and then, the Marquis Alfieri and the Count Bononi, and next a young ecclesiastic by the name of Father Jerome. The count then informed his daughter they had reached Boston in the steamer, and had arrived during the day; that, hearing of this party from Felix, they had determined on this surprise. These strangers wore the air and bearing of rank. With eyes full of intelligence, their manners were quiet and self-possessed. The family and friends of Mr. Argyle were presented to the count and his party, who received them with marked courtesy. Especially was the count; profound in his manner of meeting Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, and Mr. and Mrs. Ross, while others, who chanced to be present, were met with icy politeness, which forbade any approach beyond a formal presentation. -This chilly as- pect melted at once on the in-coming of Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, whom the count met with a warmth and courtesy made the more conspicuous from contrast. The marchesa and countess, though they spoke every At:; page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] 262 MARRYING TOO LATE. language on the Continent, knew not a word of English. This was the first annoyance to be met by Meda; but call- ing to her aid two young travelled gentlemen, whose moustaches and beards had been trained by Parisian bar- berg, and who sought to look as little as might be like na- tives, she introduced these new-comers to them, commit- ting them to their courtesies for the night. Mrs. D'Osman had already obtained an introduction and secured a seat beside Father Jerome; and as she was a stanch Romanist, it was delightful to her to meet a foreign priest in society, a man whose mien was so perfect, and who spoke Spanish like a native. The marquis and Count Bononi, who both spoke English perfectly, were soon paired off, and then Meda, taking her father's arm, led him through her rooms, making him known to her most select friends-those whom she wished him to know best. The coming in of such a group of distinguished stran- gers created quite a sensation; and when the supper was over, Count Montaldi relinquished his daughter to her nephew, who sought her hand to dance, and bowing to Mrs. Colbourne, to whom he had been just presented, asked her aid to make him acquainted with the circle of his daughter's friends--" and mine," he added, with a glance of admirationat the splendid lady whose hand he now took upon his arm. The count made a deep impression on the company. His figure and movements were at once graceful and dignified; his features finely chiselled; his hair long, silky, black; his eyebrows heavy, and eyes glit- tering like diamonds; and such a smile! It was never the expression of mirth, nor of pleasure even; but this very in- COUNT MONTALDI. H 263 certitude fastened attention upon him, in the vain effort to discover what lay hid behind so beautiful a mask. His voice, low and distinct, using the choicest words, filled the ear with its music, but told nothing of the soul that spoke. Words, with Count Montaldi, were used to veil, not only his thoughts, but his emotions; and yet there was a strange fascination about the man; felt by every woman he sought to please. His address to such was always deferential, and at times his smile was beauti- ful; and when he lifted his eyes, the bright glance was full of. meaning, and few women were so well disciplined and guarded, as not to feel its burning ray, reaching the heart and quickening its pulsations. It was a bright flash, that left a modest flush upon his- cheek, as if his heart trembled with the glowing-passion his eye had shot forth. This expression of, his eye was rarely seen, for he -would lure the lady into some nook, behind the drapery of a win- dow, or within the alcove of a library, where, hid from the gaze of others, some whispered word was carried home by the burning glance. Nor did he ever mistake the charac- ters of women, by addressing himself to the insusceptible.* He could prattle with young ladies, but upon them he never wasted his powers of pleasing, and his discretion and self-control were alike marvellous. And on this evening of his entrance into a new circle in a foreign land, he had made himself so attractive that there was one lady, at least, kept waking, thinking of Count Montaldi. Nor were other members of the suite of the count. without their skill in this science of winning golden opin- ions. Count Bononi was not thirty, and his wife was just ,., j page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 264 MAURYING TOO LATE. out of her teens. The Marquis Alfieri was about twenty. seven, and his wife by some years younger; all of them handsome and brilliant in manners and person. Indeed, it was a remark made by many that evening, that such an addition to the society of the city had not been made within their recollection. When Meda entered her chamber, having laid aside her party attire in Elvira's room, she found Mr. Argyle sitting in his easy chair, awaiting her coming. She ran to him, and threw. herself upon his breast, and burst into tears. "What distresses you, my sweet Meda?" (' I am sorrowful to see my father here, with this suite of his." "Do you not know who they are?" "I never heard of them before! I am full of per- plexity. I stand sponsor for these people, and have already presented them in your presence as my friends. There is no congruity between these people and our cir- cles here." "Oh! that will soon be tested, Meda. Oil and water won't mix." "Yes, I see- that!" lifting up her face, and looking earnestly at her husband. "What is to be-come of me? The conflict is here," said Meda, laying her hand upon her heart, and then hiding her face upon -her husband's bosom, she sobbed and wept. "My sweet wife, you are mine, and I shall protect you. There shall be no conflict I cannot meet." MEDA S MSGIVINGS. 265 "You don't know my father," murmured Meda. "No- body resists him. He wills, and it is done. He holds every body around him under his control, and his sway is destiny." "If there should be any want of propriety in these people, we must cut loose from them at once." "Impropriety? who dares be improper in my father's presence? He would cut such a person dead with a sin- gle glance! It would be but a look; they never would survive a second: but he hascome, and I will strive to act as a loving child and a dutiful wife." "Don't let us cross the bridge till we come to it, Meda. Your father tells me he has purchased a house high up town, and designs to remain here a year or more. I am glad that he will have his own home, and glad that he declined my invitation to be our guest. It would be a complete breaking-up of our family routine, to have them as inmates of our house." "I must meet this as best I may," said Meda, with a sigh. "And now I will seek my pillow. I am weary, and sad at heart. Sad that my father has come! Is it not dreadful in me to have such a feeling? and do you not hate me, that I am so desponding when I should only be happy?" "You are tired, dearest. It will all be gone by to- morrow. Let us now commend ourselves to God, and to his kind care of us." So doing, this eventful day and night came to a peaceful close. 12 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] CHEAPTER XXXI. CONVERSATION AT THE CLUB-HOUSE CONCERNING COUNT MONTALDI AND HS SUITE. THE young gentlemen, Mr. Richard 'Jay and Mr. Fred- erick Morris, to whom Meda, at the party, had confided the march6sa ind the countess, mnet, the next day, with some others of their set, at the club-house. "/How did you get on with those women?" asked Charles Hudson. "At first we did not succeed at all," replied Fred Morris. "We ' couldn't get the hang of the school'us,' till we ceased being brilliant and complimentary, and talked the plainest prose we could command; and then they were at once charmed and charming." "I'll tell you what, Charley, " said Dick Jay, " those ladies have got their eye-teeth cut. There is no getting around them with any nonsense. The marchesa has a pretty foot, and ;a pretty way of showing it. I ventured to compliment her upon its beauty. She quietly looked - , I. THE COUa^l'SS BONOM. 267 down at my patent leathers, and asked me ' what I thought of my own? ' Her manner said, 'You have called my attention to look at that foot of yours.' I had no such thought in my head; but her look was just the finest 'cut- direct ' I ever yet received, ..and I drew in my foot, and blushed like-a fool." "The Countess Bononi is really beautiful," said young Hudson. "Her French is the finest selection of words and phrases I ever listened to. She must be a scholar. Then her self-control is great. Dear old Mrs. Heavyside brought up her lovely daughter, and requested me to pre- sent herself and Elizabeth to the countess, which I did as best I could. The old lady commenced speaking French. Such a jargon was never heard before! She became con- fused, and made matters worse as she went on; and what she would be at, for the life of me I could not guess. The countess all this while stood in an attitude of- polite and pleased attention. When the old woman had come to a stand-still, or break-down--I don't know which--the countess, choosing the most familiar words, which she enunciated slowly, made a reply which Mrs. Heavyside perfectly comprehended; and so delighted was she, that Elizabeth, seeing her mother about to make a new effort, spoke on her behalf, expressing the pleasure it gave them to make the acquaintance of the countess. In the reply of the countess,.she adopted the same manner as before; when addressing herself to the mother. This done, we bowed, and parted. The old lady met me afterwards, and said, ' she was somewhat awkward in speaking French, but she understood it when spoken, perfectly.', 'By the page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] 268 :MARRYEIG TOO LATE. countess,' I replied. 'Oh, yes! by the countess. She is perfectly lovely!' Now, I thought, if this good lady haid heard the countess talk at her usual speed, she would have been as wise as any one of the workmen at the tower of Babel." "Now tell us all about this Count Montaldi, who has come to cut such a swell among us!" asked Henry Smith, a young man about town. "Who can tell any thing of his whereabouts and whatabouts?" "He is the man wot gave his daughter a fortune in diamonds, as a bridal gift. That is a fixed fact! He is a brick, that Count Montaldi! What a lucky fellow Ar- gyle is! If I were to go abroad and pick up a beautiful girl, ' ten thousand pounds to one pennie,' if she danced well; she would turn out a ballet-girl; or, if she sung divinely, it would be shown in due time that she had been an opera-singer; but here is Argyle, on the shady side of forty, goes abroad, and brings back with him the most perfectly beautiful, noble-hearted woman, in our city. I wish Count Montaldi had brought with him a younger daughter, unmarried, and I would have been on the track without a day's delay." CHAPT R XXXII. MEDA REDEE MS H ER DIAMONDS. DURING the week following the arrival of Count Montaldi, Meda held a reception every night, and in this way intro- duced him and his suite to her friends. The count had made preparations for his coming, which took Mr. Argyle and Meda by surprise. Felix, who had been his agent, had purchased a house far up- town, while in process of construction, which was finished and furnished after the directions of the count; so that the count and his family- were installed a day or two after reaching the city.. It took a very short time for the count to be fairly afloat on the surface of society, and in a condition to reciprocate the courtesies extended to him. At all the grand parties, Count Montaldi and his suite were present, and did much to give eclat to these delecta- ble infelicities. a After a month had elapsed, the count issued his cards for a party; and in sending his tickets to Meda, he said page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 270 MARRYING TOO LATE. in the note accompanying them, "You will gratify me by wearing your diamonds. I have not seen them since the night of my coming. I hope they will not only add to your beauty, but to the lustre of my party." This was what Meda had been fearing. She hoped the count would have repaid, on his arrival, the cost of her diamonds to her husband; and when this was done, she had deter- mined to tell Mr. Argyle all she had done, feeling sure of his forgiveness. What was to be done? She dared not trust herself to think too much; but putti g on her shawl and bonnet, accompanied by Felix, she took an omnibus, and rode up to her father's house. Meda found him seated at the piano, playing the accompaniment of a quar- tette sung by the Marquis Alfieri, Count Bononi, and ladies. When ended, they all came around Meda with the courtesies of the morning. She asked permission to take -her father from them for a few moments, and led the way to his cabinet-a side room assigned for his library. Without a moment's pause, Meda said, "Under peculiar circumstances, of which I will tell you hereafter, I have pawned my diamonds for thirty thousand dollars." The count looked like a demon. He walked the room in a tempest of rage. "So young!" he exclaimed, stop- ping short and surveying her, " and so desperate! I had not thought it possible; but what is, Meda but a woman!" "You do me infinite wrong, father. Be patient, aid I will tell you all." "Not one word I What do you want of me?" ( I want you to repay my husband the cost of my bri- dal gift, and I will redeem my diamonds.' MEDA REDEEMS HER JEWELS. 271 "Doubtless!" said the count, with a sneer. "There is nothing to be gained by recrimination. We will return to the parlor."' So saying, he led Meda back, and calling to the ladies with a bright tone, he took his seat at the piano, and with perfect repose of features, a firm touch, and elegance of execution, he played the quartette they were practising. Meda heard little of the music. She had told her secret, and, come of it what would, Rachel and Robert were happy. The morning concert over, Meda returned home. The next day Count Montaldi called to pay his re- spects to Mr. Argyle and his daughter. They had just risen from the breakfast-table. Leading Meda into the front parlor, he slipped a note into her hand, and left. Meda placed it in her bosom until she could open it. It was a check on the Bank of Commerce for thirty thou- sand dollars, payable to bearer. With a grateful heart, Meda made her arrangements for going down town. She found no difficulty in getting rid of Elvira, who, with Felix, spent nearly all their time at the count's, where their services were required, to the great comfort of the, household of Mr. Argyle. At twelve, she was at the shop of Mr. Muir, and once again seated with him in his private office, with her casket before her. Meda held up her jewels, and they never shone so bright before. She replaced them in the casket, and with a face full of joy and gladness, handed to Mr. Muir her father's check; and this being scanned, at Meda's request, he calculated the interest on the loan, which Meda paid by a check on her own bankers. When page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] 272 MARRYING TOO LATE. this business was duly transacted, Meda then poured out her full heart in glad thanksgivings to Mr. Muir, that he should have trusted to her words of entreaty, when she could not find audience anywhere else. "Oh, no! it was in the worth of the diamonds," said Mr. Muir, with a smile. "Yes, they are worth three times the money; but I know it was not the diamonds, but your sympathy in my plans that made me successful." "You are right, my dear Mrs. Argyle; and I am greatly gratified with the results of this transaction." Meda hastened home, and replaced the casket in the iron safe of Elvira's room, of which Meda kept the key in her own possession. This safe was built into the wall, for the express purpose of the safety of this precious cas- ket. This done, she sat down and wept; for there came to her mind those cruel words of her father, which rankled in her heart. "I an intriguer! ' So young, too!' He may well say so-so young, and to be suspected I will tell him' all. He will call me a fool; but it is a love which I am not ashamed to acknowledge," and with such thoughts Meda wiped away her tears, and strove to forget all that gave her pain. The count's party was surpassingly splendid. His mansion was large, and the taste of the count in fitting it up was greatly admired. Meda, radiant in diamonds, with her father, received the guests. His memory of names was not only wonderful, but he in some way showed each COUNT MONTALDIS PARTY. 273 one that he had a perfect recollection of them. The only persons disappointed in their reception were some three or four sleepless ladies, who, in making their toilettes, had pur- posed to make a deep impression on Count Montaldi. The count never so much as indicated the slightest recollection of their last interview; of the compliment he then ex- pressed; of the glance when handing a glass of water; nor of any of those little matters which had lived in their imaginations, and been by them tortured into a thousand meanings; now all broken, like so many soap-bubbles, to their great mortification. No one would have guessed this at the moment, or that any emotion, not perfectly pleas- ant, ,swayed their bosoms. In justice to the count, we will say that each of these ladies, so indignant at the mo- ment, was pleased to see the count during the night, with snake-like stealthiness, coming to her side to whisper in her ear his admiration. And so it was, each carried home her own gratifying recollection of the count. To return to the party. The day broke before the company dispersed. It was considered, in all the details, "the party of the season." There was nothing talked about for a week, but the wonderful variety of the enter- tainment, the loveliness of the ladies, and the waltzing of the marchesa and countess, whose loveliness and grace alike shone conspicuously. 12* page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] CHAPTER XXXIII. MBDA AND MR, ARGYE&S FIRST QUARREL,-ACCIDENT BE- FALLS MR. A.-MEDA'S METHOD OF AMUSING EmR HUES BAND IN HS SICK ROOM. THE season was unusually splendid, and the rush of social life became intensified as Lent drew on. The count and his party were every where received as guests most valued, and whose presence was eagerly sought for. Nor were they unappreciative, They sought in every way to con- tribute to the pleasures of the party. At social concerts they sang gems of the opera, with a finish of style rarely heard among amateurs. The count, though not taking an active part in these displays of art, and rarely condescend. ing to dance, pervaded the circle in which -he moved, like an atmosphere. - Seeming to be a mere "looker-on in Vienna," he was smiling to one lady, listening with pleased attention to another, and exchanging a glance with a third; attached to no one, he glided about, and was- lost to sight, hid behind the drapery of some deep bay MEDABS PRIZE PISTOLS. 275 window, where for an instant he was whispering in the ear of some beautiful lady, compliments reserved for such a moment of seclusion. If there grew up, in the course of months, a feeling, in the circles of up-town society, that these persons were any thing other than the polite, calm, cold, self-possessed persons they appeared to be, no one could tell, or dared to say) on what that suspi- cion was founded. It was a something felt by many long before it was spoken of What strange things happen! Before we relate the in- cident to which we allude, the reader must be informed that one of the amusements of our travellers on the continent had been pistol-shooting; and Mr. Argyle had presented Meda a case of beautiful pistols, as a prize, awarded when she first succeeded in ringing the bell in the pistol gallery. This amusement they had renewed at the Springs, and at Hopedale Farm, in Hamilton County. These prize- pistols, as the first gift of her husband, had ever been laid, with other presents of his, upon a shelf of a splendid etagere in her dressing-room. Meda was in her own room (as Elvira's chamber was called), making her toilette for an evening party, when Mr. Argyle tapped for admittance, and Meda ran to the door, and invited him in. She had just before taken her curls out of paper, and was brushing them out, when Mr. Ar- gyle, stooping down, took up the curl-papers, and amused himself by reading them; and though Mr. Argyle knew nothing of Italian, yet, aided by his knowledge of Latin, he was quick to see in it a most passionate billet-doux. page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] 926 MARRYING TOO LATE. In an instant, having spelled out this note, in a tower- ing passion, holding it before Meda's face, Mr. Argyle screamed out, "Who is this lover, that dares address you this language?" Meda's eye flashed fire as she caught his glance, and rushing to the 4tagere, she opened the case of pistols, and presenting one, designing to put a bullet through the head of her husband, she fired. Spang I went the ball, just over the head of Mr. Argyle, into a splendid plate mirror, making a baleful star, whose flaming rays of light spread from the top far down the glass. Away ran Mr. Argyle out of the room into his own chamber, where, with both hands to his head, he stood in amazement. Meda came rushing in, her hair all streaming, and falling at his feet, clasped his knees: with tears pouring, and in tones of agony, she prayed his forgiveness. This sight at once restored Mr. Argyle to his senses. Lifting up Meda, and holding her close to his breast, he said, "Why, Medal You have fired a pistol at my head." "Pardon! O, Caro mio, pardon! I was mad. I was orazy! You have doubted me, my husband. Look!" lolding up the fragment of the note. "See this misera- )le note! Read it! See, it is from the marchesa; who Ilse would write me such a note? Tell me, if I have ;iven you ground for suspicion? Tell me! I must Znow." Mr. Argyle, thoroughly sobered, glad to be forgiven, rith deep sorrow of heart, and with all tenderness, assured leda he had no other ground for his jealousy than this ttle note. This was all! It was hard for Meda to be- THE FIRST QUAEREL EmDED. 2" lieve him, for it seemed so wonderful, that from such a trifle such anger should burst out. Mr. Argyle mani- fested the greatest penitence, and sought to reassure Meda of his love and confidence. They sat together a long time in silence. There was matter for a world of thinking. Meda was astonished at herself, and wondered at the sleeping tiger in her bosom, which at a single bound aimed to take the life of her husband. This was a sudden un- veiling of themselves to themselves, which made them wiser, if not happier, for their mutual discoveries. This event was followed by another, which brought all their newly-awakened tenderness into instant exercise. At the head of John street, the pole of a carriage struck Mr. Argyle as he was crossing, and broke two of his ribs, besides his being bruised by falling upon the curb-stone. At the moment the furniture-wagon in which Mr. Argyle, lying upon a mattress, was brought home, had reached his door, accompanied by Dr. Griscom, Meda, in full dress for morning calls, came out. She flew with perilous haste to her husband, who was being lifted out. "'Don't be alarmed, my love," cried Mr. Argyle with a bright, cheer- ful tone. "Pardon me, madam," said Dr. Griscom. "Your husband must be taken to his room; then we shall be able to tell you what has happened," Meda, with a bound, ran up the steps into her room; and while Elvira was undressing her, Mr. Argyle was taken up stairs, and laid upon his bed, Meda, divested of her trappings, came to his bedside, calm and collected, ready for service. She made no remarks, but in silence page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 278 MARRYING TOO LATE. aided Dr. Griscom as best she could. The broken ribs were reset, and the bruises bathed. Mr. Argyle was then placed in a position to be adhered to as near as might be, during the cicatrizing of the broken bones. Nothing which love could suggest was wanting for the comfort of the wounded man. Meda had a cot placed beside the bed, McCrie and Archy both had pallets in the room adjoining; and every groan, every restless move- ment, woke up Meda, who would rise and come to the bed, till Mr. Argyle begged her to wrap herself in blan- bkets and lie down upon the bed. This she was glad to do, for then she could at least hold one of his hands. It was a long night to Mr. Argyle; but when the morning came, they were found by Dr. Griscom both soundly sleeping. Mr. Argyle recovered slowly. He chose to regard his confinement as a great privation. In all this he greatly de- ceived himself. Not only was that spacious apartment filled with every luxury, but it was gladdened by the presence of 1Meda, in her new and endearing character of nurse; and by daily visits of troops of relatives and in- quiring friends, glad to be permitted to share one hour of his seclusion. Indeed, it was a new phase of domestic life, which amply compensated him for his mischance, and made his sick chamber a charming retreat from the dull routine of every-day life. Not so the attic of the poor solitary, who, in the sear and yellow leaf) finds himself face to face with disease and pain, in silence, and alone. Few miss him; and of those who do, rarely does one climb the darkened stairway which leads to the chamber where he spends the livelong THE SOLITABY SICK MAN. 279 days and weary nights, wondering why God keeps him alive in a world which gets on so well without him. He feels that he stands like a tree blasted by the lightning, heightening by contrast with its leafless and giant limbs, the loveliness of the verdure springing into life all about him. Let such take courage, and say, with the great Ar- nauld, "Eternity pays for all." One of those long easterly storms had commenced) which to invalids seem interminable. Mr. Argyle had read the newspapers through and through, while Meda sat on a stool beside him, busy with sewing some gauzy texture for some unimaginable use, about which Mr. Ar- gyle, as he looked on, amused himself with unexpressed speculations. Suddenly, with magic skill, some last threads being drawn, a jaunty cap appeared. This Meda adorned with ribbons, and then placing it upon her head, she looked up with a pleased air. "There, Caro, how do you like it?" Mr. Argyle yawned, and having gaped, roused himself so- far as to say, "' Very pretty, Meda."1 "( What shall I do to amuse you, my husband?" "Amuse me! Dear Meda, there's nothing to be, done. There's no keeping from me the realization of the storm which rages out of doors. And what better can I do, than to yawn and groan to my heart's content? When the sun shines, I too shall brighten up." "The sun shine! That won't be for a week yet. I must try and get something to amuse your'"Gathering up the work from her lap into her little basket, Meda ran out of the room, and returning, brought in a beautiful gilt papie.-mach box. She reseated herself on the stool, page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] 280 MARR YING TOO LATE. and making a shelf of her husband's lap, she opened the box. "What have you got there, my sweet wife? "I have here all the love-letters I ever received. Not very many, you will say; but these are all--every scrap; and I thought you' would like me to tell you of iny lovers, and read to you their notes, Won't it be amusing?" asked Meda innocently. Mr, Argyle did not know exactly what to say; but the confidence of his wife was so pretty in itself, that he assured Meda it would be, of all things, most piquant and amusing. "I was sure you would say so, Caro; and when you have done listening to my love affairs, you shall tell me all of yours; and as we -two shall be talking all the while about love and ourselves to each other, we shall manage matters most charmingly, this stormy day." "Certainly," said Mr. Argyle. "Now, then, begin at the beginning. Tell me the tale of your first love." Meda took up a little bundle tied with ribbon of a rosy hue, and opening it, spread some thirty notes over her husband's lap. They were all numbered, and the name and date and place written -by Meda upon every scrap; for many of the notes had no more than a single line or stanza, written upon it, - "Now, before I begin-"-You remember the bishop whom you knocked down, and offered to toss out of the window into the public square-in Rome?" "Yes, I remember him perfectly; nor do I believe he will forget me in his lifetime." MEDIAS STORY OF HER LOVERS. 281 "Oh! he was all but frightened out of his wits. He, a bishop, to be taken up as if he were a dog; and in my presence, too! It was a miracle you were not reached by some poisoned dagger before we left Rome.-To go on: That bishop was my first lover. He was the nephew (cardinals and bishops never have sons) of Cardinal San- tucci, and the villa of the cardinal was some three miles distant from the one my father owned at- that time, near Rome. I was riding out, accompanied by my old teacher, Monsieur Plaquet, on a fine summer evening, when we were overtaken by a young gentleman of seventeen (I was then only fourteen), accompanied by a monsignori and valet, all splendidly mounted. As he came to my side, he took off his cap, and bowed, reining in his horse so that his face and mine were equal. I bowed, and rather think I smiled, looking out of the corner of my eyes to see if he was handsome. So we rode on, he talking, and I smil- ing, until, by-and-by, I looked up into his face. Italians have little to say to girls but what is suggested by them- selves; so mon Prince, as I afterwards loved to call him, told me I rode divinely, and continued his compliments, till we reached the entrance of our enclosure. I reined in my horse, waiting for Elvira and the rest of the party to come up. 'Will you allow me to present you to my father? ' I asked, not knowing what else to do or to say. With many beautiful thanks, he declined, saying he would soon request his uncle to do so; and with a bow, I put my horse to his speed, and reaching home, jumped out of my saddle, light as a feather.- This was the first act of hom- age paid to me as a woman. Elvira and I talked about page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 MARRYING TOO LATE. him, and nothing else, till the day fairly broke, before we could get ourselves asleep. "It was not a week before the cardinal called, and presented his nephew to my father, and also his niece, a girl of sixteen. While we young folks were gathering flowers in the garden, the cardinal told my father his nephew, who was designed for the Church, had already taken the initiatory vows, and that his niece was already betrothed to the Marquis D'Alma. "The next day brought me a bouquet from the. cardi- nal's niece; and this' little paper, marked 1, was wrapped around it. It is a stanza from Petrarca; and every day a bouquet and a note came to me-the billet sweeter than the flowers, for they were the first I ever received. Now I will read and translate them as best I may." She did so; then huddling them aside, she untied a new bundle, and opened some letters, no longer notes, but letters; these she read in spots, and heaping these all together, she unbound a third bundle; these Meda looked into, to see if there was any thing she liked to read--the notes were full of enthusiasm; then letters full of passion, then of despair, and any quantity of pietistic persuasions for Meda to become a Religieus. Meda went on, evidently more and more weary of her task, to the great pleasure of Mr. Argyle, whose ennui was lessening with every note that was read, when Meda looked up, with innocent surprise, saying, "Dear me! how very flat these are. When I last read them they were charming; but now they are stupid. O, I must be growing old!" "My sweet wife," said Mr. Argyle, "you are now a MEDA BURNS HER LMElTES. 283 married woman, and have, I hope, 'put away childish things.' "Do you know, oCaro, I don't like to outlive my child- ish affections? I have kept all these, thinking and say- ing,' When I am married, I will live over, with my hus- band, the days of my girlhood. Now here I am tempted to toss all these treasured notes and letters into the fire." "You cannot do better, my Meda.'" And with a sudden impulse, Meda gathered up these papers, and put them all beneath the forestick of the hick- ory wood-fire, brightly burning upon the hearth. She stood watching the flames. Raking the ashes with the polker, she said, "I will see the last spark die out. I can see which will burn longest-the notes of Father Hensius or of 'mon Prince."' Meda, absorbed in thought, sat upon the stool till the last, "th' illustrious spark," ex- pired. It was from out the bundle of letters received from the- Franciscan monk. When all was turned to white ashes, she rose. "I do believe," said Meda, "that the heart which will hold my image longest beats in the breast of my teacher, Father Hensius.7' "Treason! treason!" cried Mr. Argyle, reaching for Meda to come to the sofa, on which he sat a prisoner in state. " It is high treason to me, Meda, to think any one can love so well as myself." When the little controversy about this act of treason had been satisfactorily arranged between Mr. Argyle and Meda, she said, "You do not care to hear me tell the story of my life.', "I certainly do," said Mr. Argyle. page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] 284 - MARRYING TOO LATE, "No, you do not, Caro, or you could not have detained me here this whole hour, and never have said one word to encourage me to go on." "You have not told me a word about that Franciscan. Pray, how does he come into the romance of your life? You must tell me all about the monk." "Listen, then, and do not interrupt me. Let me sit on the stool, and hold your hand while I talk." This being done, Meda continued her narrative. "The new friendship which grew up between the nephew and niece and myself, sadly interfered with my studies; and to our great grief, I was sent to the convent we visited, while mon Prince was sent to college. But, by the aid of Elvira, we continued to hear from each other; and as for me, I was as miserable as any young lady of my age could well be. My residence gave me an insight into the life of a religieuse. Love, certainly, is not barred out of con- vents; but it is such a sad and sorrowful love! Slow and spider-like are the meshes drawn around a young nun; in- nocent herself, her confessor transfuses his sensuous soul into her bosom. No piety, nor purity, can resist the seduc- tions of a nunnery. Even in the bosom of saints, love still lives. Francois de Sales found a spiritual sister in the beau- tiful Madame de Chantel. Hers was what Michelet calls 'a holy and gentle seduction.' It was that great mystery of the soul, which Dante calls transhumanation-in which the confessor exists, and the novice exists only as an acci- dent, a quality of his existence; a vain shadow, a nothing. And he, looking down 'upon the beautiful being who breathes and burns at his feet, can say to his victim, I THEE YOUNG JESUIT. 285 was man, I am God! Thou are mine. I have changed thee. Thou art I,- my inferior I, whose only distinction from myself, is adoring me.'" "Those Catholic priests must be incarnate devils!" cried Mr. Argyle, deeply interested in Meda's narration. "They are just such men as my dear husband. They are nothing but men, made devils, if you please, by the conditions to which they were born, and carefully trained by the religion of their country. I could tell you much of what I saw by glimpses, but I must make my story short. More than two-thirds of our nuns were young, some of them of the noblesse, and it was a joy to them to be occupied in instructing me; for the carving of agnus deis, embroidering robes, and making doll Bambinos, to edu- cated minds, is wearisome and distressingly monotonous. "My father saw fit to remove me from the convent, and I came under his own care once more, with Father Hen- sins for my teacher in languages. I regarded this young Jesuit as a saint indeed. His abstinence was wonderful. Because St. Hilarion had lived upon four figs a day, so did Father Hensius; then again, he slept on a stone, be-. cause St. Pacomius had done so; again, he would live on raw herbs, like St. Apollonius, and in various ways sought to extinguish the fires of his soul, and so brought himself to the very verge of madness. '"Father Hensius was pale, as a saint ought always to be, with eyes black as night, and full of fire. Subdued and downcast, they were rarely seen; but while teaching me, if I caught his thought by a word, they would flash upon me with sudden brilliancy and beauty. He was a I page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] 286 MARRYING TOO LATE. diligent teacher, and I a delighted scholar. Unconscious. ly I grew to wish I could be such a saint as Father Hien- sius was. I ate little, and slept little, and was becoming as miserable as deluded girls can be. Father Hen- sius was delighted with the change, which Monsieur Pla- quet, my governor, as I called him, sought to contravene as best he could. One day, Father Hensius told me 'I had made no confession for months;' which was true, for my confessor, Friar Gerard, selected by my father, had gone away from Rome on a visit to his friends. He did not ask me to confess to him, but I knew he hoped I would; and so I, out of mere ennui, said, ' Come this afternoon to my oratory, Father Hensius, and I will make my confes- sion to you.' This usually took me about five minutes. I placed Father Hensius in the great chair, and kneeling on a cushion over the arm of the chair, began my usual confession. Father Hensius stopped me, and asked me questions, which; little by little, embarrassed me, till I came to a full stop. I asked myself, ' Will he dare put me through his priestly formula?' I was not long left in doubt. Rising to my feet, I gave him such a slap on his cheek as almost-broke my wrist. He sprang to his feet, his eyeballs glaring upon me like a tiger's. 'I ran to my cabinet, and drew forth that beautiful dagger I have in my dressing'table, which the prince had given me. I faced him, telling him 'he was a base and sensual monk, and I would tell my father.' This threat quelled him, and falling on the floor, groaning with agony, he prayed my forgiveness. This quelling a strong man was a novelty to me; so, seating myself in the chair, I allowed Father MEDA QUARRELS WITH THE PRINCE. 287 Hensius to crawl towards me, and to take my hand. Then, in a most queenly manner, I extended him a gra- cious pardon. We soon became good friends again. It was his life to be near me, to teach me all I desired to know. I felt he was devoted to me, but thought it was the natural result of youth and beauty upon a manly heart; thinking all the while of the- impassable gulf that separated us, and which could never be bridged over. But no! when the prince came to see me, then the love of Father Hensius flamed out, and it was seen by my father as well as myself, that Father Hensius loved me. ":Father Hensius was sent away, and, poor man! be- came a lunatic, and raved about me as the angel of his destruction. How near he came to being mine, you are yourself a witness. I am glad to know from my father, that he is now again restored, and is a Professor of Lan- guages and Belles Lettres in the Propaganda in Rome. "I had entered my sixteenth year, and was marriage- able. My prince and I quarrelled famously. We met one day, when I declared I would never be a nun; where. upon he terrified Donna Lucia, my governess, by drawing, a dagger; and I, seeing this, ran to my bureau, and drew mine. He said he would kill himself. I told him if he did, it would ruin my spotless floor. This was like blowing off the top of Vesuvius. The air was filled with flames and lightning. It was very terrific, but I let him flash upon me all his lightnings. I was no novice now to his passion.- I told him his love, like the love of all his kind, was selfish; (I had not seen you, Ciaro mio) and when the idol was dethroned from its pedestal, it lay in ruin, page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] 288 MARRYING TOO LATE. neglected and despised. O, how mad he was! but I was more and more calm, till he could contain himself no longer. 'I hate you!' he cried, as he snatched up his cap and fled out of my room. "I found myself alone indeed. No prince to talk about, no Father Hensius to come with his burning eyes to hear my lesson-and no lessons now to learn. It was at such a time as this, my father told me he had had propo- sals made for me by Count Plancke, an Austrian noble of fortune and family, whom I had seen in society but once, and retained no recollection of whatever. I told my father in this matter he must decide for me-I would be guided by him entirely; but he said, 'No! I must see him myself, and if I was content, then he would listen to the proposals which might be submitted to him.' "A party was agreed on at the villa. The count came, and treated me as if he regarded the matter of making love to me a sort of parade duty. It was very vexatious to Elvira, who wanted him to succeed, she having a liking for one of his people; but to me it was only amusing. Before a week had ended, Elvira had quarrelled with her lover, and was ready to aid me to get rid of mine. In spite of all our precautions, the count made love to me one morning in the most business-like manner imaginable. I listened with profound attention, and told him I never could be won without something more lover-like. He asked for an explanation, and I replied that in all the romances I had ever read, the least a lover could do was a&serenade. He bowed profoundly, and withdrew. You must know, he was upwards of forty-five; tall, officer-like, precise, and, in COUNT PLANCOKES ADVENTURE. 289 a- word, a wooden man, with high whiskers, and a mous- tache which entirely covered his lips;-just such a man as my Caro is not!" After a brief interruption, consequent on this sweet compliment, Meda, once more seated upon the stool, con- tinued her story. "I told Elvira of what had passed, and by my orders, all the cactus plants were put four deep un: der the balcony of my window. About twelve at night he came, with two others, and we had a very sweet serenade. I came out, accompanied by Elvira, in, a white dress, very attractive by starlight, and returned my thanks. He was dressed in his uniform, stiff with gold, and looked very grand. He ordered his musical friends out of hearing, and then expressed his ardent wish to have a kiss from me, which I regretted he could not climb to receive, where- upon Elvira whispered, she had a rope-ladder in her room. The count entreated her to get it, and away went Elvira into the chamber for it, leaving me alone with my lover: but as the balcony was twelve feet from the pavement, I felt myself perfectly safe. Elvira now stepped out upon the balcony with her rope-ladder, which, she said, had not been used for some time, and she could not say what the mice might have done to it. Count Plancke was very brave, and extremely ardent, anxious to play the part of Romeo to my Juliet. He succeeded very well till his head came up even with the floor of the balcony, when the ropes slipped, and- away he went down upon the spears below.. His cries of agony roused the house. His friends came to his aid, while Elvira and I ran into the chamber, 13 page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 290 MARRYING TOO LATE. and closing the sashes, hid ourselves beneath the bed- covering, in doubt whether to laugh or cry. "The baron never reappeared, at the villa. My father told me he had had orders to join the army, in which he commanded a regiment. I was delighted to hear it, and my father, who rarely speaks, by his glance told me he knew my secret. "Now then, Caro, I had done with lovers. I came to the conviction that all the men in the world were incapa- ble of loving me as I wished to be loved. This conviction changed when I visited England. There I saw women, wives and mothers, such as I wished myself to be. It was returning from England we met, to part no more for ever." -Meda resumed her seat beside her husband on the sofa. "I thank you, my sweet wife, for all your confidences. You have been strangely led, strangely tempted, but now you are safely housed at last. The Lord be praised!" "My history is before you. I am but a poor Italian girl;; needing the guidance of my husband, and his gentle- ness and goodness, to help me attain what I know is of all things most important-the discipline of my soul." "My dear Meda, let me change the topic of discourse. I want you to go down to Stevens's, so soon as it clears up, and tell him to send up the new plate I bespoke, on the morning of the day of my accident, for-your cheval glass. C Never! my husband. That mirror shall be to me, in all time to come, a memorial of my passion and the nobil- ity of your love." CHAPTER XXXIV, DAY AND NIGHT SCENES AT COUNT MONTALDI7S.-THE COUNTRS SUMMER AT NEWPORT.-HS SECOND WINTER -OPENS IN NEW YORK WITH NEW ECLAT AND SUCCESS. THE count's mansion became a centre of attraction, when Lent, with its sobrieties, had changed the aspects of the gay world from the pursuit of pleasure to the pains of pen- ance; when the costumes of fashionable religionists, from the hues of the rainbow, were changed to the serge of the nun, in compliance with their vows to resist the world, the flesh, and the devil. It was then the marchesa and countess, with an air of reserve and secrecy, whispered to the select few, that they would have morning receptions every Tuesday, and " at homes " on every Friday even- ing, and the count and their husbands would receive their friends on Saturday evening. These entertainments were made up of music and dancing. Every variety of waltz- ing and polking was practised, the more piquant, the more o. page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] 292 MBRYING TOO LATE. delightful. The Saturday evening parties were a continu- ation of parties to gentlemen only, commenced by the count with the beginning of his residence in the city, and were already famous for the suppers, and the sums lost and won in the count's library. On Sunday, the count always had a small dinner-party. These were regarded as miracles of the science of gastronomy, by certain persons of high standing, whose weight of purse was only sur- passed by their weight of person-men who loved a quiet game of whist, and played high occasionally. These morning receptions, and evening parties, soon became known to the fashionable world, though counte- nanced and upheld only by those " fast women," who claimed to be the bel-esprits of the city. Such ladies soon acquired, what was fittingly styled by them, " the freedoms of the house "-a liberty, which, if once acquired, could never be relinquished. The evenings " at home " were full of fasci- nation; the dancing grew exciting as the night advanced. The count relieved his gay friends of his presence after twelve; when he retired to the library room, where he was sure to find a group of men absorbed in play. He rarely played, but looked on while others won and lost; but when the stakes grew great, and the playing became desperate, then he was ready to take all hazards, and won and lost great sums with stony imperturbability, and in strong contrast with the quivering lips and writhings of his partners in ill luck. The I. O. U. cards, given by the count, he always redeemed on the Wednesday following, at his banker's in Wall street, and like. promptitude was expected and insisted on, from those whose cards he held. l JOHN HENRY HUDSON. 293 Mr. Argyle, early in April, found he had important interests to take him to the island of Bermuda, where he held a plantation, inherited from his uncle; and making all his arrangements to be absent for the summer, he and Meda left New York, attended by Janet Ster- ling, a young Scotch girl, to whom Meda had become attached. Elvira and Felix were left with her father. It was a great struggle to Elvira to be left behind, but she was, at the time, deeply involved in a love affair of her own, which made her willing to remain. Mr. Argyle was glad to get Meda to himself; and this voyage had its rise in his desire to keep her out of the whirlpool of the circle of her father's mansion. As for Meda, she was delighted with the voyage and subsequent travels, which were to terminate when Robert and Rachel met them at Hopedale, the country residence and farm of Mr. Argyle, in Hamilton County. Leaving them to make this voyage and tour, we will -return to Count Montaldi and his suite. About this time some bright spots turned up greatly to the credit of Count Montaldi, and which saved him from the reputation of being a gamester; one of which we will relate. John Henry Hudson, the son of an eminent mer- chant, a young man, married only a year since to an heir- ess of great beauty and accomplishments, lost the sum of fifty thousand dollars, one Saturday night, to Count Montaldi. He gave his card, as usual, and left in com- pany with sympathizing friends, who had watched the game with intense interest, and saw it fairly played, and the stakes lost by Hudson, according to the laws of the game. page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 294 MARRYING TOO LATE. When Hudson reached his bed-chamber, where his young wife lay asleep in her loveliness, his agonies of soul found vent. Alarmed by his cries, she arose, and listened in terror to his self-reproaches. He said he had ruined himself, and was not worthy to live, and could not consent to live. She, sweet girl, told him he was young; that her fortune was all his, and he must give it up to Count Mon- taldi; and when nothing would soothe him, she led him to the cradle where her boy-baby was lying fast asleep. This overcame the poor gambler, and he swooned dead upon the floor. It was a long night of wretchedness. Early in the morning Mr. Hudson called on Count Montaldi, and re- quested instant audience. His bloodshot eyes and hag- gard features showed the agonies he had gone through. He came to ask the count to-accept stocks at their market value, to be delivered at the end of the month in payment of his losses. The count listened calmly. He was satis- fied that the young man was ruined, and his maniacal laugh, followed by floods of tears, indicated a suicide as possible. He asked Hudson if he would, with all the sacredness of an oath, promise him never to play another game of hazard. This Hudson did with eagerness, wild with expectation as to what was to follow. Count Mon- taldi then rose, and went to a casket, from which he took the I. 0. U. card, and said, "It gives me greater pleas- i2 ure, my young friend, to restore you this card, than Zo have received the sum it represents." Hudson, utter:y unable to reply, was led by the servant, in the condition of one bewildered, to his carriage. No sooner had Hudson left his house, than his young COUNT MONTALDI GOES TO NEWrPORT. 295 wife hastened to her father's. Here, reckless of the pres- ence of the. servants and children, she told her parents and brothers the dreadful tidings, and begged- their instant aid for her husband. While they sat in consultation as to what'was to be done, young Hudson entered, with the card in his hands, and told them of his interview with Count Montaldi. Thus this matter became known to the circles of good society up-town. By some it was regarded as an act of great magnanimity. . Such persons affrmed for the count, that he only loved the excitement of gam- bling, and in this he resembled the great duke, John of Marlborough of past days, and the iron duke of our own times. By others, it was believed that Count Montaldi saw that the ruin of such a person as John Henry Hud- son would be fatal to his standing, and would close up at once his mansion, which they regarded as a maelstrom of ruin to all who were brought within its wide circling eddies. The count, soon after the incident last related took place, gave a ball previous to going to Newport for the summer. It was got up with great beauty and costliness. The flowers were exquisitely arranged, and the party was attended by such of the gay world as yet lingered in town. With this ball the season came to an end. Count Montaldi had rented, for the summer, a spacious mansion at Newport, whose owners were abroad. The grounds, enclosed by a high fence, were beautifully culti- vated. Here the fascinating manners of the ladies, the page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296 MAP'YING TOO LATE. graceful bearing of the gentlemen, and the inscrutable mien of Count Montaldi, soon secured for them the most distinguished attentions of the visitors at the Bellevue, the, Atlantic, and Ocean House hotels. Count Montaldi and his party wore an air of reserve at first. They were quiet and unpretending, and with some reluctance made their appearance in the ball-room of the Ocean House; but once there, they gathered around them the b^elesprits of the place, in despite of the whispers circulated, that these people were as dangerous as they were pleasing; that the peace of some families had been already seriously impaired by the fascinations exerted over young husbands by these foreign ladies, and that some estrangements had almost come to ruptures. But it resulted at Newport as it does every where. Those most eager to be told of all that had happened, both ladies and gentlemen, were at once on the qui vive; the residence and grounds of the count and his friends became the favorite resort of the most select society in town. Then these grounds were so shady and secluded, that they would have been delightful, had there been no such charming persons to people them; for, once within the gates, they 'elt free from all restraints but those of good society. These restraints were rigidly enforced by Count Montaldi, md any failure in observance was in his eyes an unpar-: , . lonable sin, for which no levity of youth, no thoughtless- , less of beauty; was ever received by him as a satisfactory pology. Not that any body was deceived by this air of igor and restraint, which, in fact, served only to heighten THE OPENING Or THE WINTE'tR SEASON. 297 the attractiveness of the count's residence, and the shaded walks by which it was surrounded. Mr. Argyle and Meda reached New Orleans, from Bermuda, on? the first of June, and hastened up the river towards the lakes"They reached Hopedale on the 4th of July, and were welcomed with delight by Robert and Rachel, who had been there a fortnight, awaiting them. Here they spent the summer and fall* It was only when the cold winds of the Adirondack Mountains compelled their return, that they left; lingering about the lakes of western New York, in order that Meda might enjoy to the full the splendors of the Indian Summer. It was about the last of November they reached home. Great events awaited their coming. The opera was about to open, with the best Prima Donna since the days of Malibran, and a tenor, whose reputation was already equal to the famous Fornasari of other days; and as for the basso, he was incomparable I The manager, in making his announcement, informed the public, that for his suc- cess, he was largely indebted to the aid derived from Count Montaldi and his friends. It was agreed, on all hands, that this was to be a gay winter. The- countis season had opened with a musical party; then, his ladies resumed their morning receptions, once a week; and nothing could be more quiet, easy, and attractive, than the way the count's family slid into the social whirlpool for the winter. There was, however, no little shyness felt in the best families, in recognizing Comnt .. page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 298 MARRYING TOO LATE. Montaldi's existence. Nor would they have done so now, but for their high respect for Mr. Argyle, and their sincere regard for Meda. We now speak of those who, by their virtues, refinement, and high religious character, no less than their large wealth, are the true arbiters of society every where. Count Montaldi and his suite were reluc- tantly tolerated for another winter, for the sake of Mr. Argyle, so far as to keep up a show of courtesy; for there were too many little romances currently reported, to make these foreigners acceptable. Now Count Montaldi, with all the seeming stolidity he knew so well how to wear when it suited him, was per- fectly conscious of the condition of public sentiment, in the best circles, towards him. He knew, too, that not only the sons, but the fathers, had reason to remember him-such, at least, as had a passion for politics; for, during the pre. vious summer and fall, -an active canvass for the coming Presidential election had afforded him the opportunity of making heavy bets, not only upon the general result, but upon States and districts even. And,-by the aid of intel- ligence brought him by Father Jerome from the conclave of Catholic priests in New York, who held the control of Irish votes, he made safe bets, and won famously. Once more the count found himself at home for another season. It was not enough for him to be tolerated; he must be a leader of the fashion for the winter, and to be so, he must take the lead in new and exciting entertain* ments. He well knew, that while he led, to others he must seem to follow. He designed, therefore, to get up a masquerade party; but an innovation so seriously ob- s . MRS. DETM^MATNE. 299 jectionable, must be made by one whose position was un- challenged; nor was he at fault, for an instant, how to induce others to adopt his plans, when so presented as to seem self-originated. Mrs. Delmaine, a lady of large wealth, possessing a noble mansion and the highest rank, was extremely ambi- tious of rivalling Mrs. Gen. Mortimer, who, in addition to all her other claims to consideration, had a grandfather who had signed the Declaration of Independence. This, she held, placed her upon a pinnacle unapproachable by such a person as Mrs. Delmaine, whose grandfather com- menced his career in Cherry street, where he kept a clo- thing store. Both these ladies held a very high place in the consideration of Count Montaldi. They were beauti- ful women, with showy manners, and any amount of self- esteem. To Mrs. Delmaine, the count suggested, in a careless way, how charming a fancy ball would be in her house, and what a sensation it would create. This idea was reawakened by the marquis and Count Bononi; and when the lady's fancy was fired by vivid representations of these persons, she sent for the count, who came as re- quested, but could not recall the conversation, for somehow it had been mixed up, he said, with a conversation held with him by Mrs. Mortimer, who contemplated something of the sort. This settled the matter. That lady instantly urged the count to give her his ideas of a fancy ball; and the count did so, suggesting that it be also a demi-mas- querade- a suggestion very eagerly adopted. Before their interview ended, it was definitely settled, that on -the 30th of January Mrs. Delmaine should give a grand fancy ball I = , + - . . page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] 300 IdMAiRYING TOO LATE. It was whispered about, that any one who wished was at liberty to wear a mask, of which they were to notify her the week previous to the ball coming off. This done, the count, through the countess, told Mrs. Mortimer of this plan, as a great, secret, and that the count had expressed a wish that she would, on the 10th of February following, give a real masquerade ball, and so out-do Mrs. Delmaine. The countess was adroit, and her efforts resulted in an invitation to the count to call and see Mrs. Mortimer. This he did the next day, and Mrs. Mortimer presented him all her wishes; but then there were so many drawhacks. She feared public opinion would be against it, and her church, in this country, was against such amusements. "My fair lady friend," said the count, A" if your weight of character is not equal to meet this absurd prejudice, I would by no means advise it. Of that you are the judge. There is no doubt of the success of Mrs. Delmaine's party, which is to be a masquerade in disguise. If you are equal to the task, and will allow me to share in your responsibilities, I will, on the week following, give a mas- querade ball at my residence. Now, my dear lady, the certainty that two grand parties of this sort can be gone through with at the cost of one habit (for being real mas- querades, friends may exchange their costumes, and reappear entirely changed at little cost and labor), must- make your party eminently successful, and it will live in- the memory of all who shall be so happy; as to be your favored guests, as a bright spot in their memories of happy days." The end of all these various and frequent consultations COT-OT - MONTADI S PLANS. 301 -was an agreement, that on the same day Mrs. Delmaine's cards were issued '(of which the count promised to advise her), Mrs. Mortimer's cards should be sent out$ and subse- quently, but in the same week, Count Montaldi's cards should be issued. Thus far, the count's plans were successful. On the evening of Mr. Argyle's arrival, Count Mon- taldi called and welcomed Meda with a kiss of more than usual affection. After telling her of the opera, the pro- jected fancy ball and masquerades, the count drew from his side-pocket a note. ' I have been waiting your return," said the count, bowing to Mr. Argyle and. Meda, " to pre- sent you, first of all, my cards of invitation to a masquer- ade, which I intend to give on the night of the 22d Febru- ary, in honor of the birthday of Washington; and, Meda, I have already ordered from Paris the costume in which I wish you to appear." Meda received the cards, and laid them upon the lap of her husband, who was sitting beside her. "Count," said Mr. Argyle, ' I do not like such entertainments, and you will gratify me by relinquishing your intentions.' The count, bowing deferentially, shook his head. "It. does not befit me," continued Mr. Argyle, " to go to a masquerade; nor will Meda go to the party of Mrs. Del- maine, or that of Mrs. Mortimer. I am certain, that to any other house than that of her father, she would decline going; and, count, to your ball she must go under the care and conduct of my nephew, Mi. Argyle Dunean." The count bowed his acquiescence, and took his de* parture. '- Meda, my dear wife, was I right, in so replying in page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] 302 MARRYING TOO LATE. your name to your father? Tell me, my sweet wife, if I have misjudged you. I ought to have waited your reply, but I could not command myself." "Here, Caro, take my answer from my own lips," and she held up her pretty mouth for his good-night kiss. Calling, for Janet, and saying she was weary, Meda left for her own room. The husband was, left to ruminate awhile. He did not want to interdict. Meda from sources of enjoyment, to which she had,: from infancy, been accustomed,; but to, him, fancy balls and masquerades were hateful as they were novel; and he hoped Meda; by this time, had been so Americanized, as to no longer tolerate such exhibitions of folly and fashion. And though Meda was somewhat non-committal in her reply, -yet he believed she was so happy when out of the sphere of these excitements, she was now ready to relinquish them for, all time to come. - /' , -; C]EHAPTE-R XXXV. THE MASQUERADES.-MAX BOHRER'S SERENADES BEFORE MR. ARGYE S HOUSE.-MR. ARGYE'S METHOD OF ABATING A NUISANCE. - THE invitations of Mrs. Delmaine, Mrs. Mortimer, and Count Montaldi, came out the saMme week, and created an immense sensation in the world of fashion. There was any amount of speculation whether to, accept or to decline. With some it was a question of propriety, with others a question of expense; and these, various and differing,. wore different hues at different times. When the cost of getting up a fancy dress loomed up as insurmountable, then the doubt as to the propriety of going to a masquer- ade was greatly enhanced. And as one lady after another heard of one friend and another being already engaged in getting up their dress, in the -greatest possible secrecy, buying this beautiful article at Tiffany's, and another at Beck's, the longing to go increased. Those who said, in the most positive terms, they should return the cards page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] 304 MAB RYING TOO LATE. within the time given for their acceptance or non-accept. ance, were found deep in studying books of costumes. As for Miss II Ivy Green," she, with many other ladies of her age and condition, was, like Mahomet's coffin, held in a state of suspension. Such ladies were all the while, however, getting one and another article ready, if, at last, they should go; but for the time being talking doubtfully. Not so the families forming those foundation-stones of society we have spoken of. The day following the recep- tion of these ]cards, Mrs. Jay, Mrs. MacAlpine, Mrs. Gris" wold, Mrs. Mason, Mrs. Le Roy, Mrs. Remsen, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Roosevelt, Mrs. Duncan, Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Ross, Mrs. De Lisle, and others, for, themselves and their famin lies, returned the cards received, with polite notes of de- clinature. Poor Lucretia Duncan was greatly disturbed; for she thought she ought to go to keep Meda company, so that there should be no offence taken by Count Montaldi, from the absence of Mr. Argyle and his family friends. But the decree had gone forth, and Lucretia had nothing left her but to make those of her friends who had accept- ed the invitations, feel as miserable, because they had agreed to go, as she did, in her heart, because she could not go. The number of returned cards filled -both Mrs. Del. maine and Mrs. Mortimer with dismay; but Count M. assured them, they would be presently annoyed,-only be- cause they could not comply with the wishes of all who would gladly be present at their-parties. And so it was, as the time drew on, many who had sent back their cards, finding invitations had been accepted by those of the first THE OPERA. 305 circles, and that these parties would be an era in the lives of all present, changed their minds, and begged for the cards they had returned. And then, masquerading, so terrible in the distance, after being talked over and over by very sensitive persons for a month, lost all its ter- rors, and became, in their view, a most charming enter- tainment, giving such scope for wit and pleasantry, and would be, altogether, so piquant, that they said it would be a sin against good taste not to be present. The infinite skill and ingenuity put forth to recall apol- ogies, and to secure a renewal of invitations, afforded many an hour of mirth to the count and his associates. All these missives were carefully treasured up, under instruction of' the count." No verbal message was attended to. In all such "cases, the lady or gentleman was required to address a note, and was told that, on a given day, such notes would all be taken up for consideration, and a card would be sent, or not, as it mnight chance to be.- Both Mrs.. Mortimer and Mrs. belmaine were charmed with their success, and for the advantage they thus obtained over certain eminent and very precise persons. The virtuous indignation of such as had received no ticket of invita- tion, and whose overtures to get one were not acceded to, continued earnest against all such masquerading balls to the bitter end. While these grand parties were thus matters of specu- lation and preparation; the season opened with the opera, and a series of splendid parties. Count Montaldi's box in the opera-house, was always a point of chief attraction to the fashionable circles. The Countess Bononi and page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] 306 MARRYING TOO LATE. Marchesa Alfieri were always present, attired with great richness; but when Meda came, her hair glowing with diamonds, her pre-eminent beauty was acknowledged on all sides of the house. The opera was on every other night of the week, and once a week the count's house was opened to the great artistes for a musical soiree, where they found a congenial atmosphere, and where language, taste, and manners, were all Italian. Among these artistes, Max Bohrer, the basso, stood unrivalled. He was a poet, and had written libret- tos for a dozen operas. Though not eminently handsome, his face was fine, and his eyes lustrous; and then he danced divinely; and, being a man of great muscular strength, ladies who could waltz well with no one else, found it delightful to waltz with Max. That such a gen- tleman should be the sun of a circle, round which planets of the first order in the social system were found revolv- ing, with different degrees of attraction, can readily be imagined. Indeed, more than one ttar of the first magni- tude, during that winter and spring, suffered disastrous eclipse by coming too near this burning, blazing, blasting son of Apollo. Of all his conquests, Max was most proud of the silent and undiscovered admiration of Mrs. St. George Col- bourne, the next-door neighbor of Mr. Argyle. This lady had resided in Italy with her husband, an Englishman, from whom she had been separated for years. Possessed of an ample fortune of her own, she remained in this country,. Mrs. St. George Colbourne early became a- vis- itor of the family of Count Montaldi. She was one of THE COUNTS MUSICAL P. ARTIES. 07 those alarmingly virtuous persons of whom ladies stand in awe. The severity of her sarcasms made her to be more feared than loved; and being English, she felt called upon to correct the manners and opinions of those around her, high and low, rich and poor. Now it, so happened, strange as it may seem to some of my readers, that "Lady Colbourne," as she loved to be called, became greatly en- amoured with Max; and she became to Max his cyno. sure, for the time being; the consequences of which, as affecting the happiness of her neighbors, are hereafter to be discovered. Meda's visits to the opera were restricted to the first night of every opera brought out; for though her love of music was unchanged, Mr. Argyle contrived there should be so many family parties, that she had no time to go oftener. Her father shrugged his shoulders when Meda explained how it happened she was so infrequent in listen. ing to such a company of artistes, but said nothing. He, however, earnestly requested her to be present at the morning receptions of the countess and marchesa, as well as at their evening parties. These last were very charm- ing. The music was fine, and the dancing beautiful; and then, Meda loved to dance, Mr. Argyle held a different opinion as to this, which he, from time to time, expressed. One day, Meda, to settle this question for ever, quoted St. Paul, to prove that "to the pure all things are pure." Mr. Argyle acknowledged the truth of the text, but failed to see its propriety to the case in hand, which to. Meda seemed nothing short of wilful blindness. And so this ng page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 308 MARRYING TOO LATE. came to be a matter of controversy, never to be satisfacto- rily adjusted. The ladies at the count?s house became piqued by the -frequent absence of Meda at their receptions and evenings "at home." And they felt the need of Meda's presence increasingly. as they found the standing of those who came to their parties far less distinguished this season than the last. One morning, Countess Bononi, in conversation with Miss Ida Duncan, expressed her surprise that Meda should have deserted her father's mansion. There was great intensity of feeling in the words used, which, as they were spoken in Italian, we are not able to repeat. Miss Ida had long hoped to find the countess-to whom she had attached herself from the first evening of her entrance into the social life of New York--in a communicative mood. But never, till now, had a natural, out-spoken sentiment es- caped her, and she' caught at the clue afforded her to trace the labyrinth now opened. She made- a reply which was well calculated to increase the feeling of resentment, and ; it was not long before the countess was talking with a naturalness as delightful to Miss Ida as it was new; but the great mystery which she hoped to see made plain- "How came Count Montaldi to marry his daughter to Mr. Argyle?"--was left unexplained; and Miss Ida only gave up the hope of success, when she found she was revealing her own secrets, rather than penetrating the secrets of others. "Do you think the count will remain here much longer?" asked Miss Ida. THE COUIN'lESS AND MSS DUNCAN. 309 "I have no knowledge of his plans," replied the countess. "I can answer for the marchesa and her hus- band, and my own; we do not. We have been amused, but now we must go home to the land of love and song, where there is an opera. The Academy of Music is very well for these aborigines-men and women who have yet to be educated, to understand what they listen, to- savages, who are utterly unable to give a reason why one thing pleases, and another does not. Most of whom, hearing an air, cannot tell whether it is by Haydn, Mozart, Rossini, Beethoven, or Mendelssohn, and might just as readily guess the wretched Balfe, as either. No, Miss Duncan, we have had enough of barbarian manners." "Then, if you go, the count will live with his daughter." "Never! He will not stay here. No, my friend," and with a significant gesture, she added, " nor will he leave his daughter here. She will go back with him. He has. higher aims than to leave his daughter to live and die the wife of a rich citizen. No, no! Meda is too splendid a v being not to shine in a sphere where all are noble. If she :? remains here a year longer, upon my life, I believe she will become a heretic-a Puritan, or Presbyterian, or whatever the name be, just like her husband. He has already made -her give up, in a good degree, her love of music and dancing, and the count is dull and stupid not to see it, and he does see it. Tell me, Miss Duncan-you ask me ques- tions, and to-day I have replied to you frankly--tell me, is not this so?"- "I have been surprised, I must confess, at the facility * page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 310 MACRYING TOO LATE. with which- Mrs. Argyle has adopted our customs; but as to her changing her modes of thought and her aspirations, I have no means of knowingl" "You have not! Do you not know that she goes to some religious meeting, on every Thursday night, to some place they call a vestry, to please her husband? and no matter what may be the demands of society upon her, they are put aside, because Dr. Auchmuty's lecture is to be delivered on that evening.- My dear friend, you are blind, not to see and note such things, I tell you, I believe that she is becoming at heart a Protestant. Yes! she never confesses now--never! But, mark my words-if the Count Montaldi fails to re-create her, and make her all he wishes her to be, it will be the first time he has failed to make a woman all he wished her to be. There is just this one thing which the count may'have failed to take into account, and that is this, Meda Montaldi is his daughter." "But, my countess, you astonish me, by winking out of sight that Meda is married to Mr. Argyle." The countess put up her lip, and raised her eyebrows. : '! How is it that you, who talk Italian so well, know so little of Italian life and manners? My dear Miss Duncan, I have only one word more to say, and this confidential conversation shall be brought to a close. Remember, we have now-secrets in common; if I have been communica- tive, so have you. Meda will be taken back to her own land, and in the splendors of courts in which she is fitted to shine, and in the society of gallant men- and beautiful women, born to the love of art, Meda will recover herself, and hereafter regard her life in this city as one long, . THE MASQTERADES. 3" dismal dream. Then, my friend, your long-deferred hopes may be realized, and Mr. Argyle will find it wisest for him to mate himself with his equals." "My wishes, countess!" cried Ivy Green, confused and blushing deeply. "Yes, my friend, your wishes."' The countess rose, and invited Miss Duncan to return to the parlor, and listen to the beautiful music being performed by some musical friends and the marchesa. , Miss Duncan accom- panied the countess, but heard little of the music, from the confusion of mind she in. We find it necessary to pass over the descriptions of the fancy ball of Mrs. Delmaine, and the masquerades of Mrs. Gen. Mortimer and the count. They were far exceeding in richness and variety of costume, all that had been ex- pected. This splendor surprised those who had seen such balls and masquerades abroad, where the various ward- robes of the theatres and magazins are generally resorted to; for these stage-dresses, however gay when- seen across the orchestra, do not bear close inspection. No such faded tinsel was worn at these grand parties. Every thing was new, and was what it seemed to be; and the costliness of some of the costumes would have- adorned the courts of princes: but what are Italian princes, in-a city of princely merhants? Mr. Argyle was far from being pleasedlwith Medals persisting in attending these magnfikcent masquerades. He was made acquainted by his sister, Mrs. Duncan, of many page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] 312 MARRYINr TOO LATE. things which greatly disturbed him, and made his rel& tions to Count Montaldi more and more embarrassing. Nor was this all. Poor Meda was made to feel the senti- ment of estrangement as reaching herself. Of this, Mr. Argyle was less conscious than Meda Half confidences should never exist between husband and wife, for there is an atmosphere of the soul, which conveys magnetic signs of intelligence from one soul to the' other, too subtile to be seen, but not less to be truly felt. One day, after breakfast, Mr. Argyle manifested his disturbed feelings to such a degree, that Meda thought him really rude and harsh towards her; and the tears came to her eyes as she turned away, repulsed by his brusque manner. Mr. Argyle, seeing it, folded Meda in his arms, and said, "My sweet Meda, do not mistake me, love! I am not angry with you, but I am troubled and perplexed." "And why not tell me all that weighs upon your heart? Share it with me. I will take it all from your bosom into mine, replied Meda, with a tone and look full of tender- est love. "My precious Meda, these sources of anxiety are beyond your control. They will, I hope, soon be cured. Pardon me for showing myself unhappy." Meda, supposing it was some money-matter, rested in utter ignorance of her fusband's alienation from her father, nor was she likely to discover it, for they two never met. The count's daily visit to Meda, or hers to him, was made at the hours when Mr. Argyle was at his office in Wall, street. MAX BOUK'E S SERENADES. 313 A new source of annoyance, as spring opened, was inflicted upon Mr. Argyle. These were midnight serenades in front of his residence; sometimes by vocal performers with guitars, and sometimes by a portion of the orchestra of the opera in aid of the artistes. These were given by Max Bohrer to Lady Colbourne; but by her special desire, he sang under the windows of Elvira's chamber, reputed to be Meda's sleeping-room. By what they both regarded a happy coincidence, Elvira was sure to receive from some one, on the evening of each serenade, a bouquet of flowers, which she threw out' of the window,-an acknowledg- ment of the courtesy, to the great annoyance of Mr. Argyle. No sooner was the first note struck, than Meda, in despite of all entreaties, rose, and leaving Mr. Argyle to growl, ran into Elvira's room to listen. The fine voice of Max told the whole neighborhood who it was singing delightful songs of love and passion before the residence of Mr. Argyle; and these were interchanged by delightful Nocturnes played by the orchestra of the opera. At breakfast, Mr. Argyle did not fail to wish all these. disturbers of the neighborhood in the bottom of the Red Sea. Meda sought to smooth his darkened brow as best she could. "Dear husband," said Meda, one morning after a grand serenade, " the singing was splendid, and the instru- ments in perfect tune. I regret you do not love the music of the opera; and I fear our neighbors had rather sleep soundly, than be kept awake. I wonder why it is, that Max Bohrer puts himself to such trouble and cost, for what pleases only Elvira and myself. We have no claims " page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] 314 MARYING TOO LATE. upon him for such courtesies, and I will request my father to convey to him my wish that he should desist." i No, my dear, leave him to me. I will fi him." "Fix him I pray, what do you think of doing? Max Bohrer is an artiste, an eminent man of varied acquire- ments. I hope your respect for talent will save you from any act of disrespect. You would draw down upon your- self the sneers of the city. I pray you, do nothing unworthy of me. I hate to be made conspicuous. Max Bohrer sings under the windows of other ladies, and their husbands like it. Mine does not, and that is a sufficient reason why I should wish him to carry his singers and performers where they are o not only appreciated, but rewarded by night suppers for their pains." "My dear Meda, no man has a right to disturb the slumbers of a neighborhood. r shall complain of these men as a nuisance to be abated." "You must act, my husband, as you see fit. I, too, shall act, as I deem consistent with the courtesies of soci- ety, and the sentiments of respect I feel for one who is so highly valued by my father, Count Montaldi." "Count Montaldi's taste is no rule for me." "Count Montaldi's taste is mine," replied Meda, with emphasis. "If you anticipated that Meda Montaldi, in becoming your wife, would thereby undergo some magical transformation with the change of her name, and thence- forward cease to love what it has been the study of her life to attain, then, good sir, you made a most lamentable mis- take. Let us respect each other, my husband, and in time we shall grow to love the same things. I, t least, will do THE SORROWS OF MEDA. 315 the best I can. One word more. My father will return to Italy-I care not how soon; then, all sources of disturb- ance will come to an end. But, should he choose to re- main another year, let us go abroad, and save me from this conflict between my duties as your wife and his daughter." "That would be a sacrifice, indeed, Meda; and for such a cause! My business demands my presence here." "And is money to be weighed against happiness! What a world is this! Love is lighter than a butterfly, when weighed against gold. Ah, you do not comprehend how hard it is for me to live, as I have lived for a year past. My life has been a constant strife to please you both; and you two can never agree. Caro, I don't want you to change; and gladly would I leave this battle-field in which I, holding a middle ground, receive shots from all sides." "I would not consent to be banished from the city for twenty counts," replied Mr. Argyle with warmth. "And I would sacrifice twenty such cities, and all their comforts and pleasures, for the peace of mind I enjoyed before two counts and one marquis came into this." "It is very easy for you to act, Meda, if you hadi but the requisite decision and firmness. Thiow yourself into the arms of those who stand ready to receive you, and cut these ligaments which bind you, with a single stroke." "What ligaments are these? The ties of affection which bind an only child -to her only parent! Really, husband, you do not compliment me, by supposing such an act as this possible. Under great provocation, for a day, page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] B16 ^ ^,N ^^^TOO tATRE I might tear myself froher; bu i wod b floraday . I have a Woman's necessity to love and be It is my Woman's heart that cOmpels me t o ou an, tell with what enir e of e to love objet, when I have but one object to love an love one LetUs not talk more of this now my leda. Ishall do wart h can, to save the neighborhood from further dis- turbance." , "Pray, do nothing that will wound my self-loe, hus *a N hing that w/1 grieve a man whose gifts are godlike, and to be reverenced accordingly." ;; ow extravagant you are, Meda! , , "No!no so. Iam an Italian, the wife of an Ameri- can, raher than an American wife; with a soul imbued wmith a love of beauty, in art and nature, which it is alike my peasure and pride to call mine. Unhappyme!" Meda lost no time in visitingher father and requesting him to ask Max Bohrer to tdiseontinue his omplimentary concerts, ch ha beome o her a soure of discofot. *b o n listenee witi his accustomed imperturba. ilty, and made no repl. Meda withdrew. She next Sion, o untess, and requested her aid and interen promised to do all that was desired, expressing the tim e sue h sentients oncerning Mr. Argyle, as comel Meda to put her hands to her ears. The coun- es s caed the next day with a message from Max, saying It Ws just possible that se had been misten to whom his serenades were intended to compliment. This I . MAX BOHREoRS LAST SERENADE. 317 was interpreted by the countess to say, that it was Elvira, and not herself, for whom they were designed. The reply she received was not so courteous as Meda had expected; but it was a relief to be able to repeat it to her husband. Mr. Argyle, in answer, said, " that being the case, it would be easy to be saved from all further annoyance, by Elvira's taking up her abode, not as now, frequently, but perma- nently, at the count's, and for Meda to supply her place by the aid and service of her pet servant, Janet." This, of course, was, like many of Mr. Argyle's requests of late, an impossibility, not lying within Meda's power of compliance or control. The opera season now closed, and the troupe having left -for Boston, Mr. Argyle slept in undisturbed repose. This was too good to last; for the company returning, the opera was re-opened for a brief period, before they left New York for. Havre. It was a warm night in April; the air was soft and balmy, and about midnight, the moon rose in an unclouded sky. Meda and Elvira had been to a party at the count's, and had but just entered their chamber, when the clock struck one. Mr. Argyle, like many others of his neighbors, living in furnace-heated houses, and sleeping under a win- ter's supply of blankets, found himself wakeful and un- comfortable; restlessly and painfully conscious that the iron tongue of midnight, having tolled twelve a long time ago, now struck one. While auch was the ondition of those within doors, a page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] 318 MABRYING TOO LATE. band of musicians, selected from the opera-house orches- tra, were getting ready for a burst on the broad flag-stone walk beneath the windows of Mr. Argyle's residence. They had their music-stands all arranged, and their candle- ends lighted, when they began with a grand crash. With the first blast of trombones arnd orphiclydes, and their attendants and accessories, from the picculo to the double bass, the casements of the neighborhood were thrown open. Mr. Argyle heard a window in the chamber of Elvira fly up to its height, with a feeling of rage. He thought, after all that had been said by him, Meda'should have shown no sympathy with these disturbers of the public peace. The overture having been performed, Max Bohrer's noble voice, and the exquisite tenor of Malveletto, rose, like a sweet perfume, and circled round and round upon the stillness of night. At least twenty lovely girls in their night-robes, hooded in cloaks and wrapped in shawls, were leaning out of the windows of the houses opposite. As for Meda and Elvira, they having opened one window, peeped through the openings of the curtains of the other. This duett having been sung, a clapping of hands was heard on all sides, up and down the street. Max next sung a sweet plaintive air, accompanied by a single guitar. The cadences were perfect, and the strain came to a dying close, to be renewed again and again, more and more ten- der and passionate in its language of entreaty, till it sunk in a low, plaintive expression of hopelessness and -despair. It was a most delicious expression of love and sadness, and the sentiment found a response in the heart of Lady U ow E TB lnruoKs. 819 Colbourne, Whbo sat enshruden with the drapery of her "ob n e, athev o satearsr Ah!!" she sighed, "these are window bathed. in tears. soon to be heard by me no ofre On Nor was she alone in this sentiment regret. the opposite side of the st reet , tiss virginia S outhmayd , and her cousin, Julia Scott, were leaning on the widow - sill. ' Listen!" cried Virgina ! sing one m ore estanza- ,'sThat strain again ! it ha )a ,dyin g fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odoer. If music be the foo of love, sing on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so ie -- , Max! Max! that strain again " "How poetical you are, Virginia! and yet cousin, you talke care to have your shoulders well covered at my ex- pense.* ,' ]Bark! Max is going to sing again." , Not a bit, of it," said Julia), "o let me have my share of clothing; song or no song Y "O, yes he is! Do sing, Max. Sing! sing! What different emotions arise in different breasts, from the same causes. lr. Argyle haabeen unable to keep his bed. He peeped out, and was angerea by the growing popularity of the serenade. Men, in bed when it com- menced , vere now uand dressed; some, walking up and ju ce, were- up Il of te .ire. do the pavement, on the opposite side of the street Ladies, too, had so far attired themselves as to come out page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] 320 . lR,IMA tG TOO LATE. upon their balconies; so that Mr. Argyle was compelled to feel that fits serenade was extremnely well received by the neighborhood, on all sides, within four squares. It was evident, the serenaders were very much gratified, for-they played with gusto, the best gems of the operas of the season. te operasof the Poor Mr. Argyle, on rising out of his bed, had rung hisbell, which MeCrie answered, wrapped up in his flan- nel night-gown and woollen night-cap. "Mc^rie," said Mr. Argyle angrily, "dress yourself and go to the police station nearest to us, and say o the captain of the watch, these miserable eaterwauling wretches have come again to annoy me with their music. Tell him to come up with all the force he ean muster, and I will make my complaint to him, upon which he will arrest and take these vagabonds to the watch-house. Hasten, sir, for I am losing my patience.', Poor DIr. Argyle was growing more and more impa- tient for the coming of the watch. He saw the crowd gathering before his house, and heard the far-reaching ap- plause. Fuming with anger, he looked out of his window, and saw itIaxk standing with his back towards him, in the act of taking off a plumed hat, and bowing towards the open window in Elira's chaber. When this was thdone he sang a song more tender and pasionate than the last. This was more than Mr. Argyle could endure. t ere was an opera-singer making love to his wife, before a mixed multitude of musicians and street-walkers, in the presence of hisneighb%, their sons and daughters, andhiIself the laughing-stoek of the street! HOW TO ABATE A NUlSAcE. 321 A sudden fit of anger seized him, and, in a frenzy, he caught up a portion of his chamber furniture, and throwing up the sash window, which opened from the floor of the entry upon the balcony on the porch, he appeared in his night-dress. His presence inspired terror. The musicians lost time, for all eyes were up-turned to see what was coming. Taking the china cover in his right hand, and, as the school-boys say, "shying it," down it came, grazing Max Bohrer's skull, and bang it went, into the mouth of an orphiclyde, upsetting both the player and his brass into the gutter. Without the pause of an instant away flew the glazed and gilded ruin from the hands of the infur- ated man, crash into the belly of the big double-bass. The person most interested in the concert was Lady Colbourne, who, seeing Max falling backward into the gutter (which he did from inadvertence and fright), fainted dead away, and was found by her maid, in a most depldr- able state of nervous excitement. As for Meda, she ran and threw herself upon the bed, screaming and laughing immoderately, which ended in tears and hysterics. It would be impossible to describe the scene being en- acted at this instant. The musicians laid down'their instruments, and went hunting about for stones, with which to pelt this "Outside Barbarian." ' Mr. Argyle ran in for his revolvers, and returned to the porch, ready for the fray. Happily, the watch, led by McCrie, came up, and arrested the culprits, in the act of storming the palace. As for Max and his friend, the first tenore, they ran to their carriage, and away they went, down the city, as fast as their horses could go, swearing, in the best English "O page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] ABRRYING TOO LATE. they could command, (that language having the acknow. ledged preference over all others for this purpose,) they would punish the wretch. Max vowed his revenge should be ample and entire; and when an Italian is roused, he rarely fails to find fitting weapons for inficting the medi tated blow. Various were the modes discussed by Max Bohrer and Malveletto. Daggers and poisons were not to be had in this land of law and order; but by some law of associa- tion, which we might not be able to make clear to our readers, they hit upon the use of a free press. They had had- some acquaintance with those important personages who live by pen, ink, and paragraphs, and of their place of resort, where these glorious sons of Apollo love to linger about the noon of night. On reaching the hotel patronized by these wits, they asked to be shown into their room. The waiters denied that they were there, but when persuaded by a quarter eagle, they hesitatingly confessed the gentlemen were "making a night of it," and had ordered no one to be admitted. Max sent in his card. and begged instant admittance, which was granted. They found six of these " ready writers," seated at a round table, waiting for the supper they had ordered. [hey all rose on the entrance of their distinguished risitors. "Listen! " said Max, in pretty good English, nd he told his tale in a most amusing way; sometimes wearing, sometimes all but weeping; and then Malveletto linking he could help him out, sadly confused matters by rJS"{^^^^ ACCOUNT IN MORNING PAERS. 323 all he had to tell. But though these gentlemen of the quill were amused and interested with all that was told them, they were wondering what they had to do with this. Their sensibilities were at once roused, when Max offered each one who should get a satirical account of this serenade in a morning paper, twenty dollars in gold, and the cost of their supper, wines and segars, and a hundred dollars by way of premium for the best article. Paper, pens, ink, were ordered, with brandy smashes and gin cocktails to any extent, and they all set to work. The frolic was rich, and the wit genial. Carriages, in the meantime, were sent for and kept in waiting to take them down to the printing offices, and bring them back when they had seen the article in type. Max had had some acquaintance with such matters before, but only in the way of puffs for himself and signora; not as now, for murder- ing the peace of an honest citizen, whom he had left in a tumult of passion, alone in his spacious and sumptuous chamber. The next morning there appeared in the Herald, and other morning journals of widest circulation, accounts of this serenade, told with infinite fun and frolic. Mr. Ar- gyle was graphically depicted, in his night-cap, and the speeches put, into his mouth, though variously reported, all united in representing him, as swearing in a way which would not have disgraced any one of Uncle Toby's grena- diers, serving in Flanders. In a word, all that talent could do, was done, and Mr. Argyle's piety was at a lamentable discount before the day was over. Poor Mr. Argyle! when he came down to his break- page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] " i arrYNG TOO LATE. f gt was told Meda had been made sick by all that had ippened; that Elvira had been compelled to give her an odyne, so fearful and long-continued had been her fits 1 crying during the night, and that now she was just zing, and could not be seen. In the worst possible humor he sat drinking his coffee, en a servant brought him, neatly folded and directed, a ?y of each of the morning papers, of which we have lken. Now Mr. Argyle was one of those stable citizens, o read the Journal of Commerce and Courier and tquirer in the morning, and the Evening Post and mmercial Advertiser in the evening, and no other news- per did he permit to soil his fingers. That these papers ,uld be sent him, naturally excited his curiosity; nor did search in vain. He was horribly annoyed, and this dition of mind increased with every new account ; nor it lessen his irritation, to see in this the result of comn- ed talent and intention to wound him. Till now, his ne had never been in print,- without being placed con- euously among the merchant princes at' St. George's St. Andrew's dinners, where his place was on the dais, I all his toasts were drank in bumpers. He had ordered Janet to give him a hot cup of coffee, xchange for the untasted cold cup which stood before I , and was just sipping it, when Mcerie came in, and le the announcement of officers of the police below rs, requesting to see him. l "Officers of the police! What do they want of me?" "I believe, sir, they have some warrants to serve; and r say they must do their duty." I . a.' Doo their duty I Why were they not on the alert last night? Bring them in, McCrie." icCrie ushered in two gin telemi of Ireland, wearing stars upon their breasts, who, though both feared and hon- ored by residents of certain neighborhoods, rarely appear in the palaces up-town. With some awkward attempts to be polite, they soon found suitable w ords to communicate, that those men of the orchestra whose instruments had been injured, had made their complaints, and that they came with the requisite warrants. "These are matters about which I know nothing; and I must get the advice of some one who will quiet these -omplaints as speedily and with as little annoyance to me, as needs be," said Mr. Argyle. One of the star spoke up." Mr. Argyle, you speak as a sinsibe man, sir, and I will be proud -to sarve you; and you're not the man to deny poor men like Murphy and me a trife for services we can render and you want." "Do me the service, and I will find the reward," re- plied Mr. Argyle. "Now, then, your honor will forgive us if we talk a little too plain. I'm an Irishman sir, and I know how a gintilman ought to be trated, for I was in the sarvice of the Marquis of Waterford. Long life to him and I hilped him out of worse scrapes than hi a thousand times." ," What is your name, sir 9?" asked Mr. Argyle. ," Phelim O'Brien, your honor, Star Polic e 560. And my advice to your honor is this, that you send Terence MSurlhY to C(ounsellor O'Dougherty, and put yourself, page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 3a B INGN TOO LATrE. bodyfand breeches, into his hands. Let him manage these fellows, and they will wish the divil had 'em, before they waked up your honorwith their music, and had their heads broken for their pains." "Silente, O0Brien! Murphy, go for O'Dougherty; and you, O'Brien, go down with McCrie, who will give ou your breakfast, or a lunch, just as you please to call it." "All right, sir " and away went the police with McCrie, leaving Mr. Argyle to finish his coffee and toast, with very little appetite for either. He did not like O'Brien's advice altogether, but thought, if he could keep his body to himself, he would make such other sacrifices as might be required. Within an hour, Murphy ushered Counsellor 0'Dough- erty into the parlor. Mr. Argyle was sitting in a brown study, pondering the many ways a man of his character and standing even, could be reached from without, and yet be powerless to resist or resent the impertinent in- trusiveness of creatures he heartily despises, and whom indeed, he may never have seen. Such, he felt was his condition; and there arose in his mind a feeling of re- sentment against Meda for listening to tese concerts, and for allowing Elvira to throw out bouquets, intoken of her thanks for the courtesy. The counsellor was a strange apparition for Mr. Ar- gyle to see wearing a free and easy air in his breakfast. room. his face was red and pimpled, with huge whis- kers, of a carroty redness; bald on the top of his head, his hair, at the sides seemed like wings attached to the ,.satchdt h COUNSELLOR O)DOUGHETY. 327 scalp. He wore corduroy breeches, very much worse for the wear, and his black coat was extremely shabby, and, though the counsellor was a gross man, was yet a world too large for him. He was just such a man as inspired Mr. Argyle with disgust; and had he met him in the widest street, he would have crossed the street to avoid him. His presence in his parlor was a great effort for him to bear, but he kept these cogitations to himself. Mr. Argyle, in the briefest manner, told his story. He regretted the harm done these poor men, and was ready to make compensation. "Now, then, sir," said Mr. Argylei " settle, these matters at once, and pay these men liberally for their losses. McCrie will go with you, and discharge me of their complaints, so far as money will do it; and, Counsellor, this done, and well done, I will give you fifty dollars, and to each of these men of the police a ten dollar bill." "It's done, sir! )" shouted O'Dougherty in a loud tone. "Upon my honor, it's good as done, anyhow." "I do not pay in advance, sir. McCrie, go with Counsellor O'Dougherty; see that these men are compen- sated to their satisfaction, for the injury done their instru- ments, and bring me the papers with the magistrate's dis- charge of these complaints. One word more, Counsellor! I commend you to act with all your usual skill; and remember, you have the reputation of a gentleman to care for." "Upon me honor, I'm obliged to ye, Mr. Argyle, for the confidence ye repose in me. I will see all is done on the square." So saying, making a grand bow, the coun- page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 328 8P28 RYTNG TOO LATE. sellor and his companions, followed byrMcrie, with. drew. w Mr. Argyle fully paid the penalty of his passion. eda wa^ s conflned to her bed for a week, under the care of Dr. Griscom; nursed by Rachel during the day, and by Janet and Elvira at night. There was no means of eet- ing these and' ther annonsu means of meet- ing these and other annoyances, but by long-suffering and Datient endurance. Nor was this all Though all who *knew Mr. Argyle saw the malignity and mischief man- fested in the accounts of the serenade, yet there were hun- dreds and thousands in the city, to whom it was vastly amusing; and various were the tales of love and intrigue which were told; until, at last, that eminent ltterateur, Professor Ned Bowline, made it into a tale, which, pub- lished with illustrations, and bound in yellow paper cov- ers, was spread broadcast over the land. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.-MEDA IS LOCKED OUT A' NIGHT BY HER HUSBANI. ON the recovery of Meda, the count called, and with great formality invited 3 r. and Mrs. Argyle to a party at his house. Meda accepted his invitation at once, saying, " she wanted some such excitement after her week's confine- ment." Mr. Argyle said he must decline, and requested Count Montaldi, in the- same precise and even tone of voice in which his invitation was given, " himself to -see Meda safely returned, and at a reasonable hour." The count's eye blazed with a flame of fire as he heard these words. But it was gone in an instant, and with a smile that spoke his contempt at such treatment of his daughter-and in his presence he replied, "Any hour wihich the father of Mrs. Argyle deemed a seasonable hour, he was certain would be so regarded by her husband." Saying this, the count rose, and kissing Meda on the forehead, as usual, took his leave of Mr. A. with a polite and ceremonious bow. , page: 330-331[View Page 330-331] 330 [MA]XYIaG TOO LATE. "My dear Meda, your father has a most offensive way of talking with his eyes. His words are carefully selected, but his glance is minatory and insulting. Now, Meda, I am not to be hectored by him; and I say to you, be sure- to be at home before the clock strikes one, or you will find the door locked; and, in that case, you will please return to your father's house for the night." "I will do my best, husband, and return in good time; but if my father bids me stay, stay I must." Mr. Argyle was about to reply, but he swallowed his words with the glass of water he held in his hand. We fear, had his unspoken wish been the fiat of fate, Count Montaldi, and all his household, would have found them- selves describing a parabola, the other leg of which would have landed them all in the very centre of the crater of Stromboli, in Sicily. The party was not so large as was usual at the count's, but was most attractive for the beauty and talent he had gathered into his saloons. Meda, seeing the hour of twelve had come, whispered to her father her wish to leave. "Leave so soon!" cried the count, with a look of surprise. "You know, my dear father, I must get home before one o'clock, or I shall be locked out." "'Locked out!" The count stood for an instant trembling with passion. "'Tell Mr. Argyle, Meda Mon- taldi is my daughter; that she has a home whose doors stand-wide open to receive her at all hours; and when he locks his doors upon his wife, and she returns to me, she 331 M .D R EET 'U8 TOO LA TEE. * Neer!" and the fire- shall never enter his house againg-- flashing e e betrayed the intensity of his passion, mking poor Meda quail before him . She was not, however, to be etaine he ou d her into the hall, begging her to return. He pursues her into sea some dis- ,voice as anted in a duo hey ad promised r tinguishea guest to sing ith her. Cdig forla 5Mica ran' up into the shawlingroom n a band Elvira came, and time was lost in Inding ahe foa Wshawl. Jua was ot to be found at once, an hen found, he was sent to bring up the carriage, and found no car- riage there. Ir. Argyle had oraered his coachman to drive home precisely at half ast twelve, an ed one so. This rousIed ea, who sent for Mrs. Mortimer, and begged to be permitted to return home in he g hieh was most kindly granted. The carriage was alled for, an more time waslost. He was getting more ac red impatient, and Elvira and Juan more and more bl at being taken from the counts just as supper s being served; for they shared sumptuously of his enter- tainments below stairs thecoah- Before entering the carriage, Reda promse t c hlf gle to get her home before the clock struck one. It s great bribe; but Mrs Mortimer horses were extremely well-bred and well-fed, id no deem it gnetog race of any sort. It took somelittle geanteel gto ae o a t. the conviction, htit te for these animals to wake up tot i ith them a trial of speed, and the driver seahis whip freely. But with all his and his horses' pains-Takng, the clock struck one as he approached the house. e the Clock' $tr page: 332-333[View Page 332-333] 332 MARRYING TOO LATE. coachman having received his half-eagle, drove off, while Meda. and Elvira ran up the steps and rang the bell. There was not a light to be seen in the house. Juan rang the bell violently, but no response. Elvira was beginning to breathe forth her private opinion upon the silence of midnight, when Meda bade her be silent: and when Meda spoke imperatively, no one around her dared - disobey. It was chilly, and Meda, in her party dress, was suffering from cold; but she could not believe old Mr. and Mrs. McCrie, who loved her so well, could be so fast asleep as not to be awakened and brought to her relief. Nor was she disappointed. With a stealthy step the old woman came round the corner, and beckoned them to follow her. She led them through the yard, and into the base- ment, where she supplied them with lamps, and made them earnest entreaties to make no noise as they crept up, like house-breakers, by a back stairway, into their rooms. At breakfast, next morning, Mr. Argyle was moody, and said but little. Meda was far from being pleased with the incidents of last night, and so they sat in silence. As Mr. Argyle rose to leave the table, he, with the air of one who was master of his own house, spoke as follows: "I made a -request of Count Montaldi and your- self, which has not been complied with. I gave orders that my house should be closed at one o'clock, and it was; for I myself locked the door of the front entrance, and brought up the key into my room, and laid it upon my dressing-table. I am sorry to say, servants whose fidelity I have never' before doubted, have, at your instigation, disobeyed my commands." , ' ED;' A STOTY OF I BR eu n. N8 , With your per m ission,) said M eda in atone an d measure of which Mr . Argy lehad gi ven th e k e y-note, uI out of love for me, and to save you from reproach. S o much for your kind, honest, loving an d much-loved se r- vants. For myself, I have to say, I purpose t o have been here before the clock'ha d struck one . I was detained , an when m y carriage as called, was told it had left; doubt- when my carriage was call less-by your order." "I told laurice to leave at half past twelve, and he did." , Yes, sir, and I made the best apologyI could, for borrowing the carriage of Mrs. Mortimer, and paid her coachman a half-eagle for the racingof her horses from my father's house, onlyto reach your steps one minute past the hour of one o'clock. Now, sir, I have a message to eliver to you, which to me will be the eeree of fate; fxea, final, and unalterable fate. y father says to you, ' My daughter has a home; and when your door is closed upon her, and she shall be compelled to seek his home U *^Orater -your door I again, she shall never more enter your oor.' Youmust make your election. - As for me, I am nothing. L ike corn between an upper and nether millstone, my destiny is; to be ground to powder-." "I am not to be intimidated, Meda." "Do I use the language of intimidation? I pray you, pity me! I have claims to your sympathy; and I know your heart is the home of noble affections, though you can be so cruel." page: 334-335[View Page 334-335] A ltRYING TOO LATE. t "I cruel, Meda I Strange words are these for you to utter." "I take them all back. I do not mean cruelty, but want of appreciation of the conflict it is my lot to meet. Only have patience, and all will come to a happy end. My father is talking of returning." "I Wish he was in--Sicily." " I wish he was, husband: but say no more. I have a heart which I dare not us, hen listening to reproaches of any sort." "Good day, Medal" and MBr. Argyle bowed, and left the room. " Husband I Caro' !" cried Meda, r~iing from her seat. Mr. Argyle re-entered, with his hat in his hand. " Won't you kiss me ?" asked Meda, in a gentle, loving tone, approaching him as she spoke, and laying her hand upon his breast. " I shall be so much happier all the day for ne kiss---only one. And will it not give you pleasure to know we parted lovingly ? Will not the sun shine brighter for it? Yes, it will!" and Meda put both hands around his neck. Mr. Argyle stood in doubt, whether he should not, like that veryrespectable lady, Mrs. Tam O'Shanter " nurse his wrath to keep it warm," but Meda triumphed. -Her kiss being accepted, was returned, and' Mr. Argyle went down the street a happy man, though he had some misgivings that he was too tender-hearted, and did not inspire Meda with that profound reverence, which he, as ahuhsband, ought at all times to -command and demand. What charming folks these husbands are! especially those who, from infancy, have been taught th at woman, THE COUNT S PARTY TO MAX BOHRER. 335 being " the weaker vessel," must live under "a realizing sense " of her inferiority and dependence. God's government of this world is by laws of compen- sation; and such strong-minded men do not escape scot- free. The weak are not slow to learn how to repel such cruelty, and all unconsciously does this knowledge come to them. It is not sought for; it is forced upon them. And hence comes long-continued warfare, full of mutual discomfort and discontent. Just the sort of misery Mr. Argyle would have endured to the full, but for the impul- sive and subduing tenderness of Meda. And, yet Meda, the loving wife, was graciously permitted to restore peace to his breast; and when restored, she was not regarded by him as an angel to be worshipped, but a woman to be pitied. Count Montaldi deeply felt the insult offered to Max Bohrer, and, as he regarded it, to his own daughter. Of this Meda was made fully possessed by the countess, who told her of all her -father had said, and of his purpose to give Max and his associates a farewell party, on the week before they left in the steamer for Havre. Meda heard of this party with regret, for she ,was weary of par- ties; and,-too, she feared to offend her husband, by being out later than one o'clock; and she asked the countess to beg her father to dispense with her attendance, which that lady told her she dared not do. It was a message she declined to deliver, and which, she knew, must be offensive -in the extreme. This was a matter of sorrowful anticipa- , , page: 336-337[View Page 336-337] 336 IRRMA3YING TOO LATE. tion to Meda, but she saw she must anticipate all objections by her husband whenever the invitation .came. The steamer was to sail on next Monday week; the party was to come off on Wednesday. On Tuesday morning, Count Montaidi entered -the breakfast room of Mr. Argyle, who sat at the table, looking -over the Journal of Com- merce. Meda rose, and received her father with a warm welcome. Mr. Argyle also rose, and bowed with polite- ness, and much formality. The count's response to each was perfect. These formalities over, the count said to Mr. Argyle," To-morrow evening, sir, we give a farewell party to our countrymen, Max Bohrer, Signora Colonna, and their associates. We mean to do all we can to express our high respect for their eminent talents. I shall be gratified, sir, with your presence; and you, my child, will, I know, unite with us in making their last recollections of this city and country, agreeable and happy." "With all my heart!" cried Meda, with apparent enthusiasm. / This took Mr. Argyle by surprise. He had not ex- pected it of Meda, nor had he the sagacity to see that this was not Meda, but an actress over-acting her part; but Meda did the best she could. She dared not be natural. "I have nothing to say,7s replied Mr. Argyle. "My wife knows I have had enough of parties to last me a life. time. I can only remind you both, that my house is closed at one o'clock for the night." "I sent you a message, sir, by Meda, which, if she has delivered it, renders any reply of mine unnecessary.!' , . , f A DOMESTIC SCENE. 337 "-I have heard it, sir," replied Mr. Argyle, sternly. "Then I have nothing more to say, but to repeat- when you bar your doors upon my daughter, all ties which unite you are severed." "Count Montaldi, my rights are in my own keeping. I shall act upon them as I see fit. Your language is minatory and offensive." "Pardon me, sir, I never threaten. You must be aware, Mr. Argyle, that any want of confidence manifested towards my daughter, reaches me injuriously. I bid you good day, sir.?' The count kissed Meda gracefully upon her forehead, and withdrew. Poor Meda sat ih silence, and in silence the breakfast ended. Mr. Argyle rose, and walked out into the hall Meda followed him, and handed him his hat and-cane, and in various ways showed her desire to mollify his anger, and win from him a kiss of peace; but no, he was not to be pacified. He felt, like Jonah of old, " he did well to be angry; " and with a bow, he departed, leaving Meda a little sad and a little angry; perplexed as to which feeling should rule the hour. That night Meda suffered much from restlessness, and rose with a severe headache, and great irritability of her nervous system. The condition of Meda's health had been such as to make Mr. Argyle himself somewhat anxious on her account. He would not consent to her rising to breakfast, and was very careful to send her up a cup of tea, made by himself, with a kind message by Janet. On his return to Meda, she was sitting in their 15 page: 338-339[View Page 338-339] 338 MARYING TOO LATE. great chair, wrapped in a shawl, her feet drawn up under her, looking very pale. Taking his seat beside her, Mr. Argyle expressed his regret that she was indisposed, and proposed to her to send an apology to her father. "I wish I was confined to my bed," said Meda, with a sad tone, "I would consent to be sick for a month- downright sick; then my absence would not be misinter- preted; but as it is, sick or well, I must go to this party." "I am sorry, Meda, you act under such a feeling of compulsion. But if you will go, go you must." "My dear husband, sit up for me, and let me in. I will come home as soon as I can get away." In an instant the lip of Mr. Argyle, before so bland and smiling, became compressed, and all gentleness was gone. Meda had made a mistake: she saw it too late. "No Meda. Your father says he never threatens. ' Deeds, not words' is his motto. It is mine. Stay all night, if you please, but do not come to my house after the clock has struck one. If you do, you will come but to go back again." "Never will I go back again. I know, if I returned to my father's house, he would cut me off from you for ever. My father would spirit me away out of the country. Before you were awake, I should be far hence, to return no more. You do not know my father, Caro mio-nor, indeed, do I. O0 if he were but open-hearted! You are angry with me, but it is only for a little while, and we make up, and are reconciled again, and love just as well and as much as before. My father is never angry, and I never know what is in his heart of hearts," and Meda wept; but MEDA G OES TO THE PARTY. 339 Mr. Argyle would not be entreated. He would not givie back one hair. His purpose was unalterable. Meda held her head with both her hands, while he walked up and down the chamber, uttering decrees, which, like those of the Medes and Persians, " change not; " and thus it was he left his sweet wife, as miserable as he could make her; just as many husbands have done before, under similar circumstances. Meda sent for Rachel, who came at once to her aid. Meda told her of her trials, and they wept together. This done, Meda began to brighten up. "My dear Rachel, I shall come back here; and if re fused admittance, I shall come to your house to spend the night. I must leave my father's house, for he is extremely sensitive to observations made; and -if, I were to stay, it might be made the subject of a sneer, which would affect him most painfully. Do not let any of your servants know of my coming to your house. Let Robert be on the alert to let me in." All this Rachel promised. "One thing more," said Meda; " ask Robert to go in person to Lewes, the hack driver, whose hack, No. 500, I sometimes hire, and say to him, he must be at my father's house to take me home; for I will not again be left to the courtesy of others, as I was once to Mrs. Mortimer. Such a necessity I must avoid, and Lewes must come himself." "It shall all be done as you desire, dearest Meda; and I am so happy to have you come to a home not more mine than yours; for, dear Meda, if it had not been for you, I should now have been homeless." page: 340-341[View Page 340-341] 340 MARRYING TOO LATE. "I No, no!" cried Meda, folding Rachel in her arms. It was a romance in real life, this love of Meda and Ra- chel! There was such sympathy existing between them, that at times they needed not words to express their thoughts. It was the communion of souls, freed from the clay-prisons in which we are compelled to live. Meda, aided by Rachel, dressed herself with extreme simplicity, wearing only her mother's necklace and cross of diamonds, by way of ornament. Her headache was gone, and there was a rebound that made her joyous, grace- ful, and happy. Mr. Argyle had sent home a note to Meda, in the morning, that he should dine at Mrs. Dun- can's, so that Meda had nothing to distress her; and that night, she entered the count's saloon with a buoyancy and beauty that was the admiration of the circle; and of none more so than the count, who paid her his especial atten- tion. Indeed, he kept her at his side, receiving his guests as her own. Max Bohrer, Malveletto, and Signora Zoriade Colonna, were, of course, that night, stars of first magnitude, and, like all setting stars, they shone with increasing effulgence. At twelve, Meda, the countess, Max, and Malveletto, sang a quartette together. This was succeeded by other gems of the opera, until supper was announced. Meda was anxious then to leave, but her father's frown was terrible, as she whispered to him her wishes. He made no reply, but turning to Max, requested him to hand Meda to supper. Offering his hand to Signora Zoriade, Count Montaldi led the way to the supper-room. The feast was MEDALS RE'TURIN HOME. 841 as brilliant as wit and beauty could make it. Wines, no- where else to be tasted, were here drank as water, poured forth from an unfailing fountain. On returning from supper, the ball was opened by the count and signora, with Meda and Max, in the same quadrille. Then came the exciting waltz and bewildering polka, in quick succession. The floor was thronged with those reputed to be the best dancers of the city. Meda never danced more beautifully, for her partner was as perfect in his steps as in his notes. So flew the hours, till the hour of two was struck. Meda heard the bell, as she stood with Max At her side, she having just left off waltz- ing with him. The Signora Colonna came up to pay her some compliments, when Meda, taking her arm, begged she would accompany her into the hall. She did so, followed by Max, who, for the first time, paid most marked atten- tions to Meda--Lady C. not being present. When they reached the hall, Meda, apologizing for the liberty she was taking, asked Max to call her carriage, No. 500, while the signora and herself went into the shawling-room for her hood and cloak. She requested a servant to say to Juan and Elvira, that she was about to return, and to meet her in the hall. Returning, hooded and shawled, Meda was told by Max that his carriage was at the door, but that her car- riage could not be found, and that Juan and Elvira had left the house. Max stood with his cap and cloak in his hand, offering to accompany her home. This Meda de- clined. She was all astonishment. The signora seeing it, at once offered to go home with her. Meda, dizzy and be- page: 342-343[View Page 342-343] 342 MARRYtIX TOO LATf'l wildered, seated herself, while the signora went for wraps and hood. "I am ready," said the signora. As they were about leaving the hall, a lady asked, "Pray, tell me, signora, are you going sosoon?" -( O no! Bohrer and I are only going to see Mrs. Ar- gyle home. We shall be back soon." Meda rose, and was led to the carriage, and took her seat without speaking. Max sat on the seat in front of Meda, and expressed his admiration of Meda, her sing- ing, her dancing, her transcendent beauty. "Please let down the glass! I said Meda, in a tone of languor, which indicated faintness, for, indeed, she was all this while in: a state of semi-consciousness. The air revived her,'and folding her hands beneath her cloak, she sat silent The coachman drew up at Mr. Argyle's carriage-step. Aided by Max and Signora Zoriade, Meda dragged her- self slowly up the steps. There was a light in the chamber, and Max rang the -bell-once-and again. The sash in Mr. Argyle's chamber was thrown up, and he appeared. "Dear husband, let me in. I am sick to fainting!" cried Meda. "Go back, madam! I will not open the door," and down went the sash, and down sunk Meda. Mr. Argyle remained at the window, till he saw Juan and Elvira, as he supposed them to be, take up Meda, and bear her swooning to the carriage. This was driven down the avenue. "Ah! said he. "It is all well;- Meda has gone down to spend the night -at Rachel's ;" and with a feeling' of gratified pride and complacency, that he had acted with a firmness worthy of all^ commendation,. he went back to his:-bed, and was soon sound asleep. CHAPTER XXXVII. OF, MEDALS RETURN HOME.-H--ER RECONCILIATION. THE next morning, Mr. Argyle was not at all surprised that he was left to breakfast alone. He had his morning papers, and if the truth must be told, he felt a sort of sat- isfaction in once more enjoying the charming quiet of his bachelor days. He felt he had done a good thing; for he had shown to Count Montaldi, and to Meda, that he was not a man to be trifled with. There was on the face of Janet, who waited upon him at the table, a look of sad- ness which displeased him; but it, was so subdued, that be, with great magnanimity, overlooked it; nor did he call old Mrs. McCrie to account for the reproachful look she gave him, aa, she came into the room for his orders for the day. Mr. Argyle had two magnificent hounds, sent him from Scotland, a present from his friend, Sir Archy Macin- tosh. These dogs had long since acquired the freedom of the house, through the love and partiality of Meda, to the great annoyance of Mr. and Mrs. McCrie. One :of their page: 344-345[View Page 344-345] 344 RMYING TOO LATE. immunities was, to come up with the coffee-urn into the breakfdst-room, when they were sure of a romp with their lovely lady. On this morning, they rushed in as usual, and seeing no Meda, Malcom (so was he called) put his paw on the empty seat, and whining, looked up into the face of Mr. Argyle, saying, as plainly as a dog can speak, "' Where is my sweet mistress this morning?" Mr. Ar- gyle, finding him impertinent, ordered both the dogs to be driven out of the room. This done, he addressed himself to the duty of taking care of himself. After making an excellent breakfast, as he was button- ing on his surtout-for the day was dark and lowering- Elvira came to the top of the stairway, with her bonnet in her hand. "How is your mistress this morning? asked Mr. Argyle. "My mistress!" cried Elvira, and staring at Mr. Argyle for an instant, wild with amazement, she ran into her chamber, and closed the door. Mr. Argyle smiled bitterly, as he walked down his front steps. He formed, then and there, the fixed and final resolution, to get rid of these foreign servants, who were nothing else than domes- tic spies of Count Montaldi, and the disturbers of his peace. So soon as he had gone, Elvira ran down into the par- lor, where she found Mrs. McCrie, of whom she eagerly inquired what had become of her mistress? The dear old lady, who had been on the alert, hoping to render her "dear child," as she loved to call Meda, some service, was able to tell Elvira all that had happened. MEDALS DISAPPEARANCE. 345 Elvira, so soon as .she could regain her shawland bon- net, ran into the street, and calling a hack, which chanced to be passing, to the side of the pavement, she drove up to Count Montaldi's, and was at once admitted. The count listened with earnestness, and intense anger kindled in his eye, as Elvira told the story of Meda's sorrows. But he simply replied, "Meda is at Mrs. Duncan's: go and see, and come and tell-me how she is. I wait your return with impatience. Go!" With a lightened heart, Elvira took her seat in the carriage, and drove to Mr. Robert Duncan's. She found Rachel sitting at her needle-work, in perfect serenity of soul. Seeing Elvira enter with flushed cheeks, Rachel rose, and eagerly asked, "How is Meda? What of your lady?" "My lady I Is she not here?" cried Elvira, lifting up her hands in astonishment. "No I she did not come. I sat up till past four o'clock, and she never came. Did she not- return to her own house?" "She did; and was denied admittance by the brute who calls himself her husband." Elvira, with a look of frenzy, bit the ends of her fingers till the blood came. "How happened it that you were not at hand.? Where was Juan?- Where was Felix? Where was Lewes and his hack?" "Felix and Juan were both occupied for the count, and neither knew of the departure of Meda; and I, wretch that I am! was inveigled away about midnight by one whom I shall for ever hate, and took with me the hack and 15* page: 346-347[View Page 346-347] 38(46 MARRYING TOO -LATE. Lewes, for but one hour. I returned too late-my dear lady was gone I as I supposed, to her own home; so I re- mained at the count's till this morning. An hour since, I learned all I have told you. I must return to Count Montaldi, whom I dread to meet." So saying, Elvira ran out of the room, and hastened back with her sad intelli- gence. Rachel, so soon as, Elvira was gone, unable to remain at home, sent for a carriage, and rode up to Mr. Arygle's. Here she was met by old Mrs. McCrie, looking greatly troubled, and yet not knowing why she was so grieved, only this, "her sweet child " had 'been denied admittance to her home by her husband-" that was all," she said. "And that is all too much, Mrs. McCrie. My poor Meda! so excited as she was all day yesterday, so nerv- ous, and with such a headache! I am astonished at Mr. Argyle's cruelty."' "Pray, don't say one word. It can't change matters, and it may make them worse." Rachel went up into Meda's chamber, with a heart full of, sadness, lest all that Meda had predicted, as the conse- quence of such conduct, would come true. She could find no relief, till tears came, and she knelt at Meda's bed, praying for the protecting providence of God for dear Meda, her " unspeakably precious sister!" Serenity came with her faith in the promises of God. She had waited an hour when Elvira came. The count had made a very careful scrutiny of the servants, and though, he said, he could make no discoveries, yet Elvira was sure-he knew with whom Meda left, -for there was MEDA'S EETUBN. 34- something in his eye that satisfied her that he knew; and she told Rachel she was filled with dread of some calamity hanging over her mistress. "He won't tell me!" cried Elvira, bursting into tears. It was now noon. The rain was falling in torrents, and the streets were flooded, when a hack drove up to the car- riage-step. Juan, who was standing in the hall, at one of the side windows, caught sight of Meda, and seizing an umbrella and a cloak of Mr. Argyle's, that chanced to be hanging on the rack, he ran down the steps. When the hackman had opened the door, there sat Meda, in her party-dress, pale as a corpse. She made an effort to rise, and sunk back again. Giving the man the umbrella to hold, Juan entered, and wrapped up Meda in the cloak, and bore her, sheltered by the umbrella in the hands of the driver, up the steps, and entering the house, he carried her directly up into her chamber. The coachman deposited the umbrella in the hall, and closed the door; then resuming his seat, he drove down the city. Juan, having deposited his mistress upon the bed, was told -by Elvira to go at once and tell Count Montaldi of Meda's return. Meda, hearing this order, turned her eye heavily upon Juan, and raised her hand as if to recall him; but Elvira repeated the command, and Juan left the room to obey it. Rachel addressed Meda, begging her to-tell what had happened; but Meda made no reply. She moved her head restlessly, the eyes rolled heavily, the pupils of 'which were contracted to'-a pin's point; and she was so pallid page: 348-349[View Page 348-349] 348 MARRYING TOO LATE. and corpse-like, that Rachel was filled with terror. Elvira closed the door, and locked it, nor would she open it, though McCrie and wife, and Janet, all begged admittance. With an energy all her own, Elvira requested Rachel to ask Meda no more questions, but to aid her in undressing her lady. Elvira carefully arrayed Meda in a night-dress; she -arranged her hair becomingly, and put on a pretty cap seeking to make her appearance less distressful than it had been. Rachel begged that Dr. Griscom should be sent for, but Elvira said she would not open the chamber door to any one but Count Montaldi. Nor had she long to wait. The count's carriage came down the avenue, the horses driven at the top of their speed. The count alighted, and came with leaping steps up the stairs. The- door was opened to admit him, and again closed and locked by Elvira. Count Montaldi came to the bedside, and spoke. Meda woke out of a lethargy, and covering her face with her hands, tears rolled down her cheeks. The count kissed her forehead, and called her his darling child, his idol, the light of his soul; and finding she was sinking away out of the sound of his voice, he called for ammonia, and a feather; with these he roused Meda, tickling her ears with the feather, and stimulating her nostrils with the ammonia. So soon as she was roused, he requested Rachel and Elvira to withdraw. They did so, going into the hall. Elvira went to the? window, and leaning her forehead against the plate glass,. stood gazing on vacancy, for she evidently saw nothing. Rachel stood listening to the voice of the count. He was asking questions; they were very brief, and the MtEDBA RETURs. 849 space between each was only long enough for a brief reply. This interview lasted but a minute or two, when the count opened the door for their return. "There is no danger of her life," said the count. "Meda will survive : poor unhappy wife!" and the count's eye was all on fire as he uttered these words. '"Let this be a secret, sacred as Meda's life. She will doubtless be- come nauseated soon, but do not be alarmed. Do not send'for Dr. Griscom unless she should become convulsed. If this be so, send me word, and let the doctor be called in." Having said this, he kissed Meda, and hung over her with a fondness, which, in the count, to Rachel seemed strange as it was new-so stony was the imperturbability of Count Montaldi, and so rare it was to see the actings of his soul manifested as is common to men. Meda lay motionless, her breathing very slow, and her limbs power- less and immovable as a corpse. Once more the count called for the feather and ammoo- nia, for he could not, he said, leave without one more look of consciousness. Soon Meda opened her eyes, and with a loving look, recognized her father. She smiled as she lie- tened to his passionate expressions of his love and sympa- thy; then, as one -weary, she closed her- eyes, and slept. The count stood gazing upon her awhile, with pity anid anger by turns expressed upon his face. Recovering himself out of his reverie, he turned towards Raehel, and thanked her for her warm love of his dear daughter, with a tenderness which quite won the heart of Rachel, and swept away clouds of distrust, which, for, months and months, had been gathering around her breast: It could . page: 350-351[View Page 350-351] 350 MARRYING TOO LATE. not-be, she thought, that Count Montaldi was not all that was noble, since he was so appreciative of the loveliness of Meda. It was a most dismal day down town, and Mr. Argyle did. not find himself so very comfortable as he had ex- pected. He thought it must be the weather; but he was not quite so well pleased with himself at noon, as he was at breakfast-time. He began to wish to see Meda, and have the dear delight of a reconciliation--a somewhat danger- ous luxury for a man often to indulge in. McCrie opened the door as Mr. Argyle left the car- riage. Mr. Argyle was alarmed by the solemn and funereal aspect of the old man. "What has happened, McCrie? Is Meda here?" "( Your lady is in her room. I have not been permit- ted to see her. Something sad has taken place, sir." Mr. Argyle could hardly endure to have his surtout- i coat taken off, before he ran up the staircase, at the head of which stood Rachel, who, from the window, had seen Mr. Argyle alight. Rachel told him that Meda had not spent the night at her house; that she had been brought home in a hack; and that she was now in a deep sleep ; that he must not be alarmed, for ,Count Montaldi said there was no danger; but she looked very like one dying or dead. " These tidings fell upon Mr. Argyle like so many blows upon his breast. All his stoutness and grand sentiments, about being the ruler of his own house, were gone. With penitence, as painful as it was sincere, Mr. Argyle entered MR. ARGYE'S CONTRITION. 351 Meda's chamber. Her breath came at long intervals, and she lay, to his apprehension, in the very act of dying. He felt he had killed her. His agony was too great for 'tears; and in utter confusion of mind, he wandered out of the chamber, into his own, and sat down in the chair, -that very easy-chair in which he had left Meda, so sad and beautiful, soliciting him to open the door of his house to her. He was full of horror! While thus he mused, McCrie came and asked him, if he meant to let his wife die out of hand; without medical aid?"Ought not Dr. Griscom to be sent for?" asked McOrie. "Sent for!" cried Mr. Argyle, waking up to life. "Sent for! has he not been sent for? Send for him in- stantly, and call in Dr. Francis; let Maurice run for Dr. Cheesman; send Juan for Dr. Grayson. Send for the one who lives nearest; don't lose a moment! Away hastened McCrie, followed by Elvira. She resolutely and fiercely forbade any such hue and cry being raised. Her mistress was not dying, and she would only consent that Juan should go for Dr. Griscom, and for Dr. Griscom alone. Juan, having received the order from Elvira, set off in Mr. Argyle's carriage, which McCrie had kept in readiness for this service. Rachel went to Mr. Argyle, and told him of the inter- view of the count and- Meda, and greatly comforted him, by telling all that was touching and tender, and calculated to inspire respect and confidence in the count., Dr. Griscom came in the carriage with Juan, and has- tened up into the chamber. --Mr. Argyle, hearing his page: 352-353[View Page 352-353] 352 MRpA Q TOO LATE. voice, followed him, and found the doctor standing at the foot of the bed, looking at Meda in silence, with the air of one dumb with surprise. He lifted the lids of the eye, and examined them with care; next he felt of the skin and pulse; then, turning briskly round to Mr. Argyle, he asked, "What has induced your wife to take laudanum? -and when did she do it?" "God knows I " cried Mr. Argyle. The thought paralyzed him so entirely, that he was led into his own chamber, and seated in his chair, without being conscious of it. It was a long life he lived in the short time he sat there, before Dr. Griscom came and roused him, saying, "Argyle, what does this mean? I must be confided in. Explain all this mystery!" Whereupon Mr. Argyle told him all that had hap- pened. It was a great relief to that gentleman- thus to be called upon to recount all that had taken place, in- asmuch as it gave him 'the opportunity of putting. him- self in a sort of pillory; -and being there, of throwing at himself every species of contempt. Dr. Griscom lis- tened with surprising patience, seeing it did Mr. Argyle so much good; and helping Mr. Argyle in this species of pelting one's self, he joined in, calling him a hard-hearted, bigoted, unsympathizing fellow, utterly unworthy the love of a loving woman; a man, who, with the capacity to win the love of a gifted Italian girl, had no nobility of soul to see that she must be Italian still, in all her tastes and cul- ture. Then, again, his mean, niggardly soul, could not be made to see that such a soul as Mrs. Argyle's could never be ruled with a rod. of iron. That it was only by crush- 359 MBEDA BETURNS TO CONSCIOUSNESS 3 ing out her life, she could cease to love those accomplish- ments which had made her lovely, even to himself; and all this he had sought to do, to suit his own cold nature, his bigoted education, and national -prejudices. Alto- gether, Mr. Argyle had the comfort of being most thor- oughly abused. It had the effect that Dr. Griscom anticipated. Mr. Argyle began now to look around for excuses. The doctor rose. "While you were abusing yourself, I could keep you company; but now the tide has turned, I must leave you to your pleasant recollections, and go and see if your wife wants me.' The next morning Meda awoke to partial conscious- ness. Her eyes were heavy, and she seemed like one struggling with nightmare, from which she could not wake. Rachel, who was never absent from her bedside, when she saw Meda open her eyes, spoke to her. At first, 1Meda stared; then, recognizing Rachel, she smiled, and closed her eyes; then, folded in Rachel's arms, she sunk away into a troubled sleep. Mr. Argyle was tapping at the door every hour of the night; but Elvira, who stood sentinel, and kept it locked, would open it only so far as to say, Meda was breathing more and more freely and naturally. Dr. Griscom came, and readily roused Meda, who an- swered all his questions, until she was asked by him about the opium she had taken. The big tears stole down her cheeks, and she was silent. The doctor persisted in his inquiries. .Meda, rousing herself, replied, "Never! Hwill never tell it, doctor. Say no more." page: 354-355[View Page 354-355] '354 MARRYING TOO LATTE. The naturalness and emphasis with which Meda spole, surprised the doctor, for it indicated great intensity of feeling; and, like one exhausted, Meda fell into a long- continued state of stupor. \ The day was bright and beautiful, and Meda gradually regained her senses, awaking, at last, as one from deep sleep. The count came, and was closeted a short time with Meda. He then re-opened the door, and spent an hour in telling her of his recent letters from Rome; of the gossip of Naples, Turin, Parma, and other cities where they had many friends, and topics came up about which the count talked in a way to command the attention of Meda. With renewed tenderness the count took leave, commend- ing Meda to the care of Rachel and Elvira. Mr. Argyle came home at twelve. Meda had already been dressed with all manner of endearment by Rachel and Elvira, who did the best they could to make her beautiful. The great cheval glass had been rolled up before the couch upon which she sat, so that Meda migh; see herself; and she was pleased with the success of her toilette, and their praises of her interesting looks. Poor ? Medal! she sat looking sweetly sad; her eyes shone with a strange lustre whenever she raised her lids for an in- stant, to close them again, as if the light pained her; and when the lids fell, her long eyelashes lay like a fringe upon her pale cheek. Mr. Argyle sent for Rachel to come into his chamber. As requested by Dr. Griscom, she told Mr. Argyle what he had said, and his orders that Mr. Argyle should not see Meda until night. THE RECONCILIATION. 355 "I don't care what Dr. Griscom says. I know it to be a first necessity to Meda, that she should see me. I feel it must be so. I know it is so with me. Go, dear Ra- chel,O and say this to Meda. Tell her I come. in deep- est penitence to ask her forgiveness. Send Elvira here. I have a note to send to Count Montaldi, which will, I hope, make my peace with him. Now, then, while I am thus seeking to be reconciled to her father, I will, with more earnestness, seek to be restored to the love and con- fidence of my most precious wife." Rachel was not the woman to resist such an appeal. She knew it must do, Meda good. On entering the cham- ber, she sent Elvira to Mr. Argyle, when Rachel told Meda of the wish of Mr. Argyle to come and beg her for- giveness. Meda roused herself from the cushioned chair in which she was -seated. For an instant there was a proud, angry look upon her face, and her eyes were bright and gleaming, but it was momentary; her features be- came sad and sorrowful, and, the splendor of her eyes was soon quenched in tears. The chamber-door being left partially open by Elvira as she came out, Mr. Argyle saw reflected in the cheval glass all we have described. He could no longer restrain himself, and entering, he kneeled before Meda, and encircled her in his arms. "Kiss me, Meda!9 " cried Mr. Argyle. With a soft expression of languor, Meda inclined her head, and closing her eyes, with. a long kiss, the reconcilia- tion with Meda was perfected. Mr. Argyle hid his face in his hands, and wept; Meda meanwhile passing her slender fingers through his hair-always a caress of hers page: 356-357[View Page 356-357] 356 i ARRYING TOO LATE. which delighted her husband in happier hours. The grief of Mr. Argyle was like a whelning deluge while it lasted. Meda's sorrow did not reach a single sob, but one big tear chased its fellow over her face, as she leaned back her head upon the cushions; nor did the soothing tender- ness of her husband lessen their frequency. Opening her eyes, swimming in tears, Meda made an effort to speak- "Do you wish me to forget, as well as forgive?" "I do, from my soul, my angel wife!" "Do you purpose we shall bury the past? Is it never to be recalled? Never! never! never!" said Meda, with emphasis and passion, increasing as she went oh. "Never! by word or deed. So help me God!" "Kiss me, and let our kiss be a seal of oblivion to the past." Meda was greatly exhausted by this scene, and lay back upon her cushions, but partially conscious of what followed. Mr. Argyle, retaining Meda's hand, went over the tale of his repentance, but without any of that out- spoken objurgation and self-immolation, which had de- lighted Dr. Griscom. Men rarely do suoh things twice. Though Meda was unconscious of what he was saying, lying at the time in a sort of sleep, yet Mr. Argyle well knew she would be told it all by Rachel, in better phrase than any he had the skill to frame, and at a fitting time. CHAPTER XXXVIII. COUNT MONTALDI LEAVES FOR PARIS.-MR. ARGYE AND MEDA GO TO HOPEDALE.-INTERESTING STATE OF MR. ARGYErS MND AT THS TIME. COUNT MONTALDI called to see Meda during her confine- ment to the house, and was received by Mr. Argyle, who had returned to drive out with his wife. It was a de- lightful spring day; and after the morning salutations were gone- through, the count announced to Mr. Argyle and Meda his plan of returning to Paris in the next ,steamer, and, with her concurrence, of leaving his house in charge of Elvira and Felix. He said, "The count and countess and Alfieri and Gabrielle, are pining for Italy. I have thought, my dear Meda, you 'would be greatly benefited by a visit to Baden-Baden; and if I can prevail on Mr. Argyle to allow you to go with me, I will engage to return early next October. Will you not go? The waters will do you great good, and we shall doubtless meet with some of our pleasant friends, and you will come back renovated in strength." , , 4 page: 358-359[View Page 358-359] 358 MARBYING, TOO LATE. "( O n! I I don't need any thing so much as quiet; rest I rest!" cried Meda, passionately. "I thank you, count, for the invitation; but I am confident Meda will be best off at my seat in Hamilton County, and among the Adirondack lMountains. We in- tend to leave as soon as the weather will make a removal pleasant to Meda." "( I regret that Meda and yourself do not see my pro- posal to be as important and desirable to her as it seems to me," 'replied the count to Mr. Argyle; and then ad- dressing Meda, "I hope, my child, to see you on my return invigorated, for I shall be alone; my friends will not. return to this country, and I shall need your aid to sup- ply, in part, their lack of service." "No, dear father; not so. If you need society, bring others with you who will take their places, and leave me to seek the seclusion of home. I am weary of excite- ment. I have no longer any desire to shine, either in the courts of princes abroad, or the homes of the wealthy of our own city. I shall hereafter be content to make those happy whom I, love best, and who best love me." The count was displeased, but it was the slightest pos- sible expression of dissatisfaction that he manifested. "Are you not selfish, Meda? She replied: "I wish not to be selfish; but if I can- not do every thing, then let me do that which is most agreeable to myself, since it is also most pleasing to those who love me best." "'I hope, Meda, you do not purpose to give up your studies, nor your accomplishments." COUNT MONTALDI'S DEPARTUEE. 359 "Neither, my dear father. It is my pleasure, and-it is my duty to persevere; besides, I am always happy when my time and thoughts are fully occupied." "I must compliment you, Mr. Argyle, on the docility of your wife. I shall become skeptical whether she is the daughter to whom I have devoted so many years to make her realize my ideal of a woman." The count rose, and bowed himself out of the room. When he was gone, Mr. Argyle, returning to the par- lor, went up to Meda, and said, "My Meda, I never heard you talk so well before. Your vice, to my ear, was full of music. I thank you! I was glad to hear you speak with such perfect poise of manner; and your simple earnestness must have convinced your father, that every word came from out of the depths of your heart." "They do, Caro mio. I have long; pondered saying to my father these very words. , I was glad of the oppor- tunity to do so in your presence. I am always brave when you are near!" The count and his suite and servants left New York on the 1st of June. The countess and :marchesa did their best to awaken in Meda a desire ,to go back with them; but all in vain. They were evidently greatly disappoint- ed at their want of success. As for Count Montaldi, he was so piqued, that he rarely came to see Meda after the visit of which we have spoken above. * The week following the count's departuref Meda was herself again. Her spirits rose at once with a buoyancy ' t" page: 360-361[View Page 360-361] 360 mABREYNG TOO LATE. whichdeligted Mr. Argy1 and Rachel, and all who loved'her. 8wheas readyand eager to join in thegeneral tuf ! ipng the city for the country; and .while qt ,Werelfull "of the ominggayeties of Newport, of Saratoga, a o#her summer waterug-places, Meda and Raphel were: cqua-y delighted with the prospectof -being once more t:gether at Hopedale, at the foot of the Adi. rondack Mountains. .Their, departure was delayed by the arrival of Sir Arhay; Mctoh and his lady, and two daughters. These were the ery greatly:prized friends of Mrn Argyle. Sir ^cS^asW a. aofM of ;irofe Arhwas. a m an of sity and his lady some ten years lounger, and their two daughters (of eighteen and twenty- ,te^ li ;;a 0one remained to them unmarried, of. a large fils?'g, ia I =f! whom were connected by marriage with ' ^l^ 1^1ho ouses of Scottish nobility. Mr. Argyle's e 1fa/Ier':i is 'lifetime, and himself subsequently, had aided Sr Archy in the settlement of a grant of crown ,lands in Canada with Scottish emigrants, sent outhy Sir Archy, and commended to the protection of Mr. Argyle on t heir arrival at New York, :Sir Archy lived in baronial munificence in Scotland; and abroad, he bore thunmistakable ,,marks of his char. acter and standinig at home. H ing, ,spent a fortnight with ,MrArgyleinl^ the city, Sir Artc,n4d family left for Boston under promise of 'joining:,r Argyle at Hopedale, twhei ung ladles were, toremaint while Sir Archy" ,e a' isit; to bir - * t , - a , : \ , ., ME:DA AND MR. ARGYE AT HOPEDALE. 361 was happy to receive these eminently distinguished friends from Scotland as his guests. He felt a little nervousness, at first, as to their liking Meda, and Meda's likingtffhem; but this was soon forgotten, and Sir Archy and ladyleft Hopedale evidently witlhSincere regret. , One day, Mr. Argyle was telling Medaa ihow happy he was, and howmuch his admiration of her increased in the , retirement of the country. "No, my husband; I have not changed. It is nothing - new in me that you see. I a,m inthe country, to be sure, with no disturbing influences'affecting me;" with a smile full of meaning, Meda added, " may it not be that you are somewhat influenced by the whole-souled enthusiasm .ex,- pressed towards me by Sir Archy and his wife 'd daugh. ters? These persons hold the highest plae in ,your esteem, for their talents and thorough education, as well: as . : the gifts of birth and of fortune. They are certainly eminently distinguished, and it has been my happiness to win their warm and affectionate admiration. How much of my increased capacity to make you happy, Caro %ibo, do I owe to this attractive, gifted, and lovely family? One thing I can say, with all my soul, I love them with a fervor which surprises me." - ' I see it, my;sweet Meda, and am delighted." '"Yes!, ;aiMeda, "aI rhave sought to analyze this con- dition of-my soul i :I?1ook baok only three years"^nd how little wouldi'teythen have interested me?' Their sw'eet and qcuiet; iman , Q'f ei e'deep toned piety, pervading as does, every-ithingthey doand say, so wins my love, that"' ,wish:tobe for ever wOihin" the sphere offtheir influence. I * -' " "-: '16 . - ': , , page: 362-363[View Page 362-363] 362 MARRYING TOO LATE. wish my heart filled with the love which makes them so lovely. What idea should I have had of them, had I met them at Parma, or Turin, or Paris? And what are now the accomplishments in which I have so labored to excel, in comparison with such loveliness as theirs?? It was with mutual love and admiration these friends separated. Having visited his estates in Canada, Sir Archy and lady returned to Hopedale, and taking their daughters, left for a tour of the United States. While these visitors were with them, Meda held up wonderfully; but after they had gone, she lost her energy, and became every day less and less joyous. Her rest was broken, and she sought the seclusion of her chamber; or if she walked out with her companions, Malcom and Graeme, down to the lake, she would sit upon some great gray rock hanging over the water, and there remain till the dogs, weary of waiting, would return home with drooping ears and tails, as if they were ashamed of their conduct; but as their mistress would say nothing to' them, they lost heart and came back. This was Rachel's interpretation of their feelings, for the moment she took up her bonnet or sun- shade, the dogs were on the alert to lead her to where Meda sat gazing on vacancy. The months which followed were full of hopeful expec- tations at Hopedale. The gentlemen found plenty- of out- door occupations, and Rachel and Meda had many things to make up in-doors. The lake along which Mr. Argyle's lands lay, was well stocked with fish, and fishing became more than ever a favorite amusement; for it :favored the MR. aRGYE'S MUSINGS. 363 building of castles in the air, while waiting for " a glorious nibble." Nor could Mr. Argyle deny himself a pleasure, full of the charm of novelty--to live in the future. Under the shadow of tall trees, lying along great table-rocks which hung over the lake, the midsummer days were spent by him in happy reveries. At one time he would dream away an hour or two, thinking of the color of his child's eyes, hair, skin; how much he should resemble Meda, and how much he should look like his father. He hoped his hair would be red, for that had been the family color; not a brick red, but a rich golden tint, just such as he himself had in his childhood; and though the chestnut of Meda's hair was beautiful, yet, in the matter of the hair, he could not consent for a moment to believe that his boy would not be fair-skinned, with blue eyes, and such a red head, as Apollo himself would have envied. He, how- ever, gave up the blue eyes, if they should be like Meda's, for they were incomparably beautiful; and in their depths lay hidden such a world of meaning, that, though blue eyes were always attractive, yet the radiance of Meda's hazel eye, at times dazzling with its beauity, could never be sur- passed, not even by heavenly blue; so, in the matter of the color of the eye, he gave in. Somehow, the prevailing belief a;s to sex was, that his heir would be a boy-and such a boy! He amused him- self with all sorts 'of speculations about this boy. A boy was desirable to keep up the family name-and a boy it should be! but then, boys were such sources of anxiety. Not one in a thousand, born to a great fortune, but had better have died in his cradle. They lived to be the page: 364-365[View Page 364-365] 364 MARRYING TOO LATE. pests of society, and the plagues of their parents. Then he remembered the saying of President Dwight, that, in all his long experience, he never had made a scholar out of a rich man's son: but, said Mr. Argyle to himself, "It is all because parents do not train up a child in the way he should go." And he recalled, for the first time since the days when he was a breechless boy, the distich his mother taught him, and which was sure to precede the use of the birch- "Solomon says, his words are mild, Spare the rod, and spoil the child; My mamma knows, as well as he, A little rod is good for me ;" and then, the future Robert McGregor Argyle, Jr., stood up before him, a red-headed, hard-headed, refractory boy. Meda, in tears, saw her husband take the boy in hand to bring him to terms. He had been disobedient; had re- fused to acknowledge himself a bad boy; had resisted all the tears and entreaties of his mother; and in despair and an- guish of heart, she had brought her son, dragging him into his library, to make her complaints. Then he would arise in the majesty of his manhood, and shaking the little ras- cal, demand of him to go down on his knees to his mother, and ask her to pardon him: but the boy, a real chip of the old block! would not begin to think of such a thing; and his father knew very well he would not; but then, these preliminary steps were all necessary to be gone through with; and then it was his compressed lip, and the severe and terrible frown with which he stared at the harmless HOW TO TRAIN. A BOY. 365 fishing-bob floating before him, told of the energy and stern resolve with which he would take down his breeches and trounce the recreant boy to his-heart's content. In vain would Meda arrest his arm; in vain would she kneel, and with tears beseech him to spare his son. No! it was a duty to be performed, and he would be able to trample all his own affections and hers under foot, till he had overcome the boy. Though he hated the sight of a Jew, yet he was hopeful he was himself, spiritually, a son of Abraham, and ready to offer up any sacrifice to duty. Sometimes the impertinent query would present itself, Suppose it should be a girl? It was a hateful thought, but, like Banquo's ghost, it would not avaunt at his bid- ding. Though unreal mockery, this girl-baby would not vanish; and after vain attempts to drive away the spectre, Mr. Argyle would allow the image to live upon the spec- trum of his mind's eye. "Well, a girl it is! what can I do with a girl?" would Mr. Argyle say to!himself; and there glided into his imagination a young lady in pantalettes, pretty, proud, and petulant; wanting something she must not have; and when he had told her so, in the most tender and loving terms, sinking into a lounge in sulks, looking a beauti- ful fiend in petticoats. And then'again he contemplated Miss Meda Montaldi Argyle, having passed through the ugly age and " come out," falling in love with a Frehch dancing-master; and so it was, the young lady never ap- peared to Mr. Argyle as an object of affectionate love and admiration. We fear these reveries were not very credit- able to this gentleman; they were certainly very unlike , page: 366-367[View Page 366-367] 366 MARRYNGv TOO LATE. those of his nephew, who sat within twenty feet of him, looking straight down into water, so clear that a fish could -be seen thirtyfeet deep, and yet seeing nothing. Now Rbbert had no such conflicts to meet, and he was thinking twice as often of Racliel, as of their mutual hopes; and here it is blut just to say, never was Mr. Argyle so regard- ful of Meda as now, and he sought in every way to make her happy; and this was the more needful, as Meda often suffered from depression of spirits. And thus was the summer spent. Early in October they reached their homes, and were warmly welcomed back. The feelings which had made Meda's union to Mr. Argyle so painful to his sisters, had long since passed away, and with sincere satisfaction they now rejoiced with their brother in his hopes, and received Meda with tenderest embraces of love and sympathy. CHAPTER XXXIX. IMPORTANT PERSONAGES ARRIVE IN NEW YORK, AND PRODUCE MOST UNEXPECTED CHANGES. THE, family of Mr. Duncan was filled with joy when Rachel presented Robert the finest boy-baby that had been sent among them for years. Events of this sort, once matters of course, had become so rare, that their renewal was a matter of wide-spread felicitation. Of all that rejoiced, no one was so glad as Meda. She was early apprised of the happy event, and Mr. Argyle lost no time in taking her down to see Rachel and her brave boy. Master Robert Argyle Duncan (for so was the boy to be christened) was, indeed, something to be proud of. His hair resembled the sunbeams, soft and gold- en. His eyes were of heavenly blue. He poked his nose with his little fists in a way that all regarded as remark- able; and Mr. Argyle seeing this, said to Robert, "If your boy, -when he grows up, shall show the same passion for using his fists upon the noses of other people that he now . page: 368-369[View Page 368-369] 368 MAIRRING TOO LATE. does for his own, he will be a bruiser, indeed." Then, he had limbs that were thought to be miracles of beauty; and the way he drew up his little legs and kicked, seemed to promise great energy and activity for his future life. That " the boy was just like his father, was admitted with- out a dissenting voice. From the birth of the child, Meda spent most of her days with Rachel; and though Medals spirits were not now buoyant, yet her sweet serenity of soul made her more lovely than ever. Early in December, Count Montaldi, attended by Juan, returned to the city, as he said, to sell his property, and go back to Paris. He had a long interview with Meda, and left her (which was for him a rarity) in a most cheerful and contented frame of mind. Mr. Argyle came home while this call was being made, and seeing Meda so bright and happy, it helped Mr. Argyle to welcome the count with all satisfaction of manner. The day following the arrival of Count Montaldi, his expected grandson made his appearance. The consternation in the household of Mr. Argyle consequent upon the mod- esty and embarrassment manifested by this young gentle- man in entering upon the active duties of life, brought all the heads of the family together; Count Montaldi alone excepted. Mr. Duncan, on entering the chamhber of Mr. Argyle, late in the evening of the day, found that gentleman in his slippers and robe-de-chambre, standing before a large hickory fire, with the Evening Post held in his hands behind him, opened but unread, in a fit of deep abstraction. nMR. ARGYE HAS A- SON. 369 The paper had become singed brownj when Mr. Duncan entered, from being held so near the fire. Mr. Duncan seated himself, unobserved, in one of the great easy-chairs at the fireside, and seeing his brother in a brown study, he fell to meditating on the changing scenes of life, thinking, "what shadows we are, what shadows we pursue." How the event, in the act of elimination, was one of the mile- atones of life's pilgrimage-the son becoming a father, and, as in his own case, the father changing into a grandfather; ,and then follows the sere and yellow leaf, when, "sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing," oblivion and the grave close up the strange eventful history of man. It was from such a reverie Mr. Duncan woke, to seize the ignited newspaper and throw it blazing into the fire. This act roused Mr. Argyle; and after a few words, he took the chair opposite to Mr. Duncan, and there sat in silence till the door was thrown open, and the announce- ment made, "The child is born, and a boy-baby has begun to breathe!" This brought both gentlemen to their feet in an instant. Mr. Argyle stood embarrassed, not knowing " what was expected of him at such a conjuncture as this. Mrs. Duncan, who had come in, told him he must wait awhile, and Mr. Duncan seized the moment to present his felicitations to Mr. Argyle. '"Well, it is odd, my dear Duncan, this being made into a father! I only hope the boy may be as beautiful as Robert's. If he is, I shall be perfectly satisfied;" and this said, Mr. Argyle walked the room in a state of restless impatience, whichI Mr. Duncan regarded, all things consid- ered, as very natural. 16* - page: 370-371[View Page 370-371] 370 - MARRYING TOO LATE. The door of the chamber was now thrown wide open, and the illustrious stranger, preceded by Mrs. Duncan and Mrs. Ross, ,wats brought in by the nurse, lying upon a pil- low, -covered by a flannel robe-one of those creations of Medals care. The old nurse bustled with the importance of her charge, which was laid upon the centre of the bed, and in contempt of the anxieties of Mr. Argyle, she would have the door closed, before removing the white veil which shrouded the infant from the gaze of his fond father. All being in readiness the nurse lifted the embroidered cloak, and there lay the new-born infant, with a big head, black as the ace of spades, covered with curls, and limbs crooked as rams' horns, and flesh blue as indigo. "It is a monster!!" shouted Mr. Argyle, in horror of the sight. "Take it away! take it away!" and the poor child, on the instant, made up the ugliest, wryest face con. ceivable on hearing his father's welcome, and uttered a yell that would have been creditable in an intelligent boy of seven years of age. Mr. Argyle sunk into his chair, and hid his face in his hands. His hopes had " fallen from the pinnacle of glory down to the bottom of purgatory." He felt himself cursed of God! and his groans so affected Mrs. Ross arid Mrs. Duncan, that they returned with the babe to Medals cham- ber. Mr. Duncan alone remained. After sitting in silenice some minutes, this amiable gentleman felt it incumbent on him to speak. "My dear Argyle, you take this entirely too much to heart. Few fathers but feel themselves disappointed, when they see their first-born child; but you -will get accus- MN. ARGYE DISOWNS HS CHLD. 371 tomned to this by-and-by; and not expecting a cherub, you will be content with a child." Mr. Argyle rose from his chair in a rage. He felt himself insulted in his own house, and by his own brother- in-law. It was past all endurance; and Mr. Duncan was alarmed by the vehemence and anger exhibited towards him by his dear brother Robert. "Sir, do you dare to bam- boozle me? That is one of Caliban's cubs! It is no child of mine! Nor can it ever grow into human shape." After this, Mr. Duncan had nothing more to say. He was greatly grieved to be so addressed by Mr. Argyle, for it was language and tones strange for him to hear, and now heard by him for the first time, and he determined it should be the last time such words should be addressed to him. To his relief, his wife sent him word by Janet, that she was now waiting with her sister to go home. He left Mr. Argyle with his face covered by his hands, without a word of leave-taking. / Meda lay all that night and the next day with little life in her. Nobody was permitted to enter her- chamber, but the doctor, nurse, Elvira and Janet. * As for the little imp of darkness, he was kept alive as best he could be. When brought to Meda, she looked at it with painful sur- prise painted on her face. Then, closing her eyes, she folded it to her bosom, and faintly whispered, "Mine." Meda, as soon as she came- to consciousness, looked around her chamber inquiringly. a "What is it, my sweet lady?" asked Janet. "My husband," whispered Meda. Janet ran to Mr. Argyle's chamber, and told him his page: 372-373[View Page 372-373] 372 MARRYING TOO LATE. wife asked to see him. He looked up, and frowning, told Janet to leave the room. He had been occupied in reviewing the life and conduct of Meda, and had come to the confident belief that her life was one long series of deceptions, and he her miserable dupe. He recalled every incident of the count's history; the character of his life; the corrupting influences under which Meda had been educated; and having gone through with this horrible review of the past, he rose to his feet, and drawing him- self up to his height, swore a great oath he would never see Meda more. Going down to his library, he wrote'a note to Count MontaIdi, requesting to see him that day at noon. This note he sent to the count by Juan; and then button- ing on his greatcoat, he' took his stick and walked out of his house. With what a whirlwind of passion did he stride on, square after square, till he had gone out beyond the city limits, and took his pathway across the open fields, far up the island. If ever a man was possessed of fiends, it was Mr. Argyle. While he was thus spending hours of intense agony, Count Montaldi was listening -to what Juan had to tell him of all that had happened, and of all that Elvira had overheard. He smiled with an expression of high satisfaction, and taking note-paper, wrote a polite note to, Mr. Argyle, saying, " he would meet him at three o'clock; that he was occupied till then in completing the sale of his house and furniture to General Schuyler Hamilton." He ventured to express his joy at the birth of a son whose presence could not fail to be a lasting bond of union of the names of Montaldi and Argyle; intimating his readi MEDA DESERTED. 373 ness to make a suitable settlement upon the boy, payable at his majority, if he might be allowed to give him his own name., He commended Meda to his most tender sympathy. This double-distilled dose of gall and worm- wood having been completed, he wrote a note to Meda, full of tenderness, and begging permission to see her as early as he could do so with safety to herself and infant. When these notes ,were carefully sealed, Count Mon- taldi gave them to Juan, saying, "Tell Elvira to take good core of her mistress, and, at no distant day, we will all be once more under the sunny skies of Sicily." Meda, waking, felt she was left alone. She asked for her husband, and was told he had gone out of the house. Elvira, unable to restrain her anger, told Meda her boy- baby was disowned, and her fidelity doubted. Meda, hearing this, raised herself upon her elbow, her eye blazing, her lips compressed-and staring wildly at Elvira, she fell- back .upon. the pillow and swooned away. It was long before she was restored; for as soon as she came to her senses, she swooned again; which so alarmed Elvira and the nurse, that Count Montaldi, Mrs. Duncan, Mrs. Ross, Lucretia, and Dr. Griscom were- sent for to come without delay, for Mrs. Argyle was dying. All came but the count, who was down the city at his lawyer's, signing deeds. As for Mr. Argyle, he was returning from his long walk to'his now hated home. Meda having come to herself, she asked for her child, Poor Meda! it was a sad sight to see her tears falling upon such a cub, while he lay within her arms, drinking in life from such a fountain. These tears fell silently; her sobs and sighs rising at page: 374-375[View Page 374-375] 374 MARRYING TOO LATE. intervals, as from the deeps of her heart, and as if they would burst the bosom which heaved, as they rose and demanded utterance. The count came at three o'clock, and had a brief inter- view with Mr. Argyle, in his cabinet. He then came up gently into the chamber of Meda. She was sleeping, utterly exhausted, and the attendants were chafing the body, hoping to keep its life in motion, but all in vain; the child drew its last breath. The count then sent a message to Mr. Argyle, announc- ing the death of the child, and asking if he had any wishes respecting the burial; if not, he would see the child buried. Mr. Argyle sent back word, " the child, living or dead, was none of his, and he had no wish concerning it." The corpse was taken in the count's carriage to his house, whence, on the next day, it was taken to the church of St. Peter's. Here, after all the ceremonies which can be conferred upon the body of an infant, the boy was buried-for the priest, on being assured of his baptism, and the circumstances under which it was administered, recognized it as valid, and al- lowed the boy to sleep in holy -ground, and under the shadow of the Holy Church. And though some of my readers may think all this a work of supererogation, yet it was full of consolation to poor Meda, when she was told of all that had been done for her poor babe. CHAPTER XL. MEDA IS DESERTED BY HER HUSBAND.-MR. ARGYE IN WASHNGTON---MEDA IN HER SICK CHAM1BER. THE next morning, Mr. Argyle, accompanied by Janet's brotheras his clerk, and attended by one servant, left-the city'for Washington. This journey he made known to no one till the moment of his departure. Calling McCrie into the library, he informed him he should be in Wash- ington for some weeks. McCrie said to him, "Sir, your absence will be felt greatly, and most of all by your sweet lady; have you no message to be delivered to her? She, sir, needs your presence, and I hope you will speedily come back." "I have no explanations to make; not even to you, McCrie. As for Mrs. Argyle, I have no message for her. Nothing! not one word." McCrie had heard from his wife and Janet strange things, and had his own misgivings, which made him say all he had said. Mr. Argyle showed himself impatient, page: 376-377[View Page 376-377] 376 MABRYING TOO LATE. but his regard for old McCrie saved him from any rude- ness of manner. And thus it was that Mr. Argyle left his home behind him. The family were pained and astonished at his deser- tion of Meda. No one had seen him the day before, for he had declined being seen, sending messages from the library, where he was occupied in writing, that he could not be interrupted. Mr. Duncan was, therefore, the last one of the family who had seen him. It was inexplicable, until Janet and Mrs. McCrie lifted up the veil of obscurity; for old McCrie and his wife, and Janet, were all alert and alive to whatever concerned their lady. They had watched the incidents of the preceding days; they had seen the count go into the library, and had witnessed the smile of satisfaction on his face, while that of their master was shrouded in gloom. Never had any one been more successful in winning the affections of her servants than Meda. To old McCrie and his wife, and Janet, she had become an idol of love. Of Janet we will here speak: she was the sister of a young Scotchman brought over from Ayrshire, some years before, by Mr. Argyle, and employed in his office in Wall street. Bright, handsome, and active, young Sterling,had grown to be his confidential clerk. His sister had fol- lowed her brother the year before Meda came, and was taken into Mr. Argyle's employment as a parlor servant. Mr. Argyle loved to be waited on at breakfast by one who was beautifully Sdotch; always prettily dressed, gliding about noiselessly, and at hand the instant she was wanted. Such was Janet- Sterling, whose love and admiration of MEDA DISOWNED BY HER HUSBAND. 3V Meda was shown in a thousand silent, and unobtrusive ways. While Meda sat at the table, Janet's fond looks rested upon her, anticipating every want, and thedslightest movement. She lingered longin her duties in the par- lors, listening to Meda's music. Wherever Meda was, there Janet sought to be; finding something to be done there, and at that time; until there grew up a tender con- fidence and friendship, which love never fails to inspire. And though Janet was a most perfect specimen of a well- trained servant, and, as a servant, shy and retiring, yet Meda soon felt the magnetism of her love, and it was her delight to respond to it. Oh, the grief of these fond servants, when they saw Mr. Argyle depart from his house, deserting his-wife in her hour of deepest trial! Meda, when informed that her husband had gone to Washington, wept in silence. Elvira began an outhreak of passion. This roused Meda, whose eyes shot one look at Elvira, and faintly spoke the word "Silence!" By this the stormy spirit of Elvira was quelled. Dr. Griscom, on entering the room, asked for Mr. Argyle. Janet told him he had left that very hour for Washington; where- upon he expressed his astonishment, and approaching Meda, sought to soothe her, that at such a moment her husband should have been called away. Meda covered her face, and made no answer. The doctor could do nothing; and as for sorrowing with Meda because the child was dead. -he was too honest to do any such thing; and the idea of Mr. Argyle's disowning his wife, never entered his head. Leaving some directions with Janet, he finished his visit. page: 378-379[View Page 378-379] 378 MARRYING TOO LATE. Dr. Griscom, Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, Mr. and Mrs. Ross, Robert and Rachel, were all soon made acquainted with existing facts., Poor Rachel was in bed, and could do nothing but send messages of love and sympathy by Robert-a most faithful messenger he was! But on hear- ing the child was dead, Rachel sent her own sweet boy, day after day, to take its place. This expression of love touched the tenderest chord of Meda's soul; and only when told that, by nursing Rachel's babe, she was doing a most needed service to her suffering sister, did she receive the child to her arms with sorrowing delight; and it became to her a chief source of consolation, to welcome, every morning, Robert and his boy. While Meda was slowly creeping back to life, the fam- ily of Mr. Argyle were not inactive. They had many consultations. All alike felt their brother was making a shipwreck of his happiness. Lucretia was earnest in urg- ing upon her parents, and uncle and aunt, the necessityr of their going at once to Washington, and bringing back Uncle Robert; for she said, "If he wants to make him- self an outcast from society, he will certainly do it." To Lucretia's mind it was of all things to be dreaded, for the sake of their family standing. "Meda must be saved; and if no one dared to go, and beard the lion in his far-off den, she would go." Accordingly, a most moving-appeal was written out on the commencement of the second week of Mr. Argyle's absence, signed by his brothers and sisters, by Rachel and Robert, and Lucretia, and sent to Mr. Argyle, at Wash- ington. They hoped the silent neglect which had attend- THE COUNT AND MEDA. 379 ed all their individual missives, would be broken by such a document as this; and, with daily prayers for God's interposing grace and mercy, they rested, having done all they could do. While all were thus sad and sorrowful about Meda, the faces of Juan and Elvira shone with delight. Day by day the count came, and sought in every way to beguile Meda of her griefs. He spoke of scenes he knew would awaken pleasant recollections in her mind; spoke of persons whom he had seen while abroad, of whom she entertained pleasant memories; of their coming future; of his plans of travel-his place of residence; of a palace he could purchase near Florence, the favorite city of Meda. Meda listened with her eyes closed, and made no reply. She was not deceived for an instant. She saw her father's hopes and purposes for her splendid future, and her heart sickened at the thought. Meda gained very slowly, and the count grew impa- tient. He had taken passages for himself and suite in the steamer sailing for London on the 15th January. Dr. Gris- com said it would be impossible for Meda to return in that steamer; but Count Montaldi contended she would die if she did not. The climate, he said, was killing her. It was, indeed, gloomy out of doors; but of all gloomy places, there was no place so shrouded in sadness and gloom as Meda's chamber. There sat Meda, in her great chair, wrapped in furs, Malcom and Graeme lying at her feet; for, if the master was unfaithful, his dogs were not. They were whining and barking all the morning, from daybreak till they were page: 380-381[View Page 380-381] 380 MARRYING TOO LATE. admitted to Meda's {presence; and then, their intense joy was held in the severest abeyance by their sympathy with their sick mistress, whose hands they licked with loving tenderness, putting their noses upon her lap, and looking up into her pale face, wistfully and sorrowfully, as if seeking to know why she, who always was so glad to play with them, could play with them no more. There was in Meda's heart an intense yearning for the return of her husband. She felt, if he would but come home, if he would see her for one hour, she could be restored to his love and confidence; but of this she said not one word. She had silenced Elvira, when she spoke harshy of Mr. Argyle's desertion, and she silenced by a look every one who dared to speak of him, until Mr. Argyle, though for ever present in the thoughts of those around Meda, was never so much as alluded- to. If there was a deep love in Meda's heart, there too was a lofty pride equal to the sacrifices she felt called upon to make. And why should she weep and complain? Would her tears carry conviction of innocence to the mind of her husband? With such sentiments struggling for utterance, Meda dragged along a wretched existence, concealing in the depths of her soul emotions which were drying up the very fountain of life. No tidings came direct from Mr. Argyle, but from other sources it was known he was in Washington, most earnestly occupied in endeavoring to carry forward a modification of the tariff. He gave dinners to senators MR. ARGYE IN WASHNGTON. 381 and members, which were spoken of in the papers as very brilliant; and it seemed as if he had become a most active canvasser for the bill, and was carrying all before him by his coup de mains on the stomachs of all Congress. It excited no little surprise at home, among the wise ones in Wall street, and elsewhere, who were casting about for the grounds of all this log-rolling. A tariff was not a matter of concernment to Argyle, whose large wealth was most concerned with the increase of tonnage, and not of spindles. At last some, wiser than the rest, made the discovery that all this interest in a new tariff was a mere cover; it was dust thrown in the eyes of good people, and that he was making capital .for a new contract for carry- ing the ocean mails, a new line of which was to be estab- lished to France, and he could well spend money, like water, with such backers as he had in Wall street. But then, how could it be, that he should have found it neces- sary to have left home so suddenly? Now the honest truth was simply this: Mr. Argyle, in order to occupy his time fully, spared no expense in bringing around him the best talent and society at the capitol; and he adopted the most approved method, by taking a full suite of rooms in a private house, and being supplied, without limit as to cost, by the best restaurant in the city. His dinners were fine, and his parlors became the favored resort of the dis- tinguished strangers and temporary residents of Washing- ton. They, too, were at a loss as to what all these enter- tainments were tending; but as he spoke of nothing more than the tariff, they were not at all alarmed for their repu- tations. And there were some few honorable members, page: 382-383[View Page 382-383] 382 MARRYING TOO LATE. who evidently were waiting for him to " open rich," to use a phrase better understood in Wall street than in Washing- ton even; But he remained dark as midnight and silent as a post, as to ulterior objects and aims. All these long days and nights, there were two hearts beating in silent sorrow over the absence of Mr. Argyle. We now speak of Meda and Janet; for Elvira, as soon as her mistress was out of danger, returned to Count Mon- taldi's, to oversee his household; the count having ob- tained permission to retain his house and furniture, till Meda could leave for England. This demand on Elvira's time was no loss to Meda, and a great gain to Janet, who now held the most intimate relations to' her idolized mistress. The day on which the steamer with Count Montaldi on board was to sail, was now at hand. Monday, at twelve o'clock, was the time of her departure. The week had been spent by Elvira in packing Meda's trunks, and aiding the count in getting every thing in readiness. This was done stealthily, and, as far as possible, without disturbing Meda. She seemed to be unconscious, and was silent. The boy-baby and Janet were now her only companions. She had found it impossible to see callers, and, to save her- self as much as possible from pain, she declined seeing all but Doctor Griscom and Robert. These gave to Meda all the time they could spare, and often more than her strength would allow. Her father made his daily call, always smil- ing, hopeful, and most attractively kind. As the clock struck six at night, on Saturday, the bell rang, and Mr. Argyle and young Sterling entered, just MR. ARGYE RETURNS HOME. 383 from Washington. Mr. Argyle imposed secrecy on McCrie, who opened the door, and told him no one but Count Montaldi was to know of his return. He went to his library, and ordered supper to be served there. The roll of equipages, carts, and omnibuses, was un- ceasing along the avenue; and for carriages to stop at Mr. Argyle's, was no rarity; but so it was, when this carriage drove up, and the bell rang, Meda, who was lying on her pillow dozing, started, and rousing herself, cried to Janet: "Run, Janet! see if that is not my husband." Janet ran, and listening, heard Mr. Argyle give the charge to McCrie, to keep his coming a secret. Poor Janet! what was she to do? She was a poor casuist; so following the impulses of her heart, she ran back to her mistress, and whispered, "He is come! ' Meda begged Janet to leave her alone till she could recover herself. Seeing her reluctant, Meda told her to see her brother, and ask all he knew of her husband since his departure. To meet this wish, Janet ran down into -Mc(rie's par- lor, where her brother was telling of what Mr. Argyle had been doing. It was all a mystery to his audience. Sterling said, that Mr. Argyle had opened all his corres- pondence, excepting certain letters from New York, which, in packing his trunk, he found lying all together, unopened. That he never spoke of Meda, nor*of any one in New York, during his absence. i * ' ' ^ page: 384-385[View Page 384-385] CHAPTER XLI. A FAMLY MEETING AT MR. ARGYE'S.--MEDA'S LAST SAB- BATH IN NEW YORK. DR. GRISCOM, calling to see Meda, after dark, as was his custom, chanced to inquire of Mr. McCrie, "What news of Mr. Argyle?" The old man was one of those who believed, "Rebellion to tyrants, obedience to God." He therefore hesitated not to tell the doctor; that Mr. Argyle was at that moment alone in his cabinet. Dr. Oriscom,- laying off his cloak and hat, walked directly through the hall to Mr. Argyle's sanctum, and knocked for admittance. He heard the words "lCome in!" harsh- ly spoken, and opening the door, he entered. Mr. Argyle, seeing it was Dr. Griscom, rose from his chair with some- thing of his wonted tourtesy of manner. The doctor was shocked to see how greatly he had changed in the few weeks he had been in Washington. His face, once so full and fair, was sunken and sallow. His eyes had receded into his head, and wore the expression of one who had DR. GROISCOM AND MR. ARGYE. 385 just come out of long nights of dissipation. After some words of inquiry as to his health, to which Mr. Argyle made curt replies, Dr. Griscom, with his usual frankness, said, "Argyle, what madness has induced you to desert your beautiful wife? and now, to return only in time to see her off? My good sir, I pray you, let me lead you up to her chamber, and see you once more restored to each other. You must do it, Argyle! you owe it to your wife; you owe it to yourself. She has suffered greatly from your desertion." "Dr. Griscom, I do not return to have a last inter- view with Meda, but with her father, with whom I have to sign some papers, prepared by him in order to a divorce from Meda Montaldi." "Divorce! Are you stark mad? Give up such a wife--and for what? In God's name, tell me some suffi- cient reason for such an act as this!" "I give no reasons; and you, sir, have no right to ask them. My life is the pledge I offer to the world, that I act both wisely and well." "My dear sir, pardon me for reminding you of my old friendship, and the confidential relations which have so long subsisted between us, as patient and physician. I pray you, take me into your confidence. It is due to love and charity, to speak out plainly to me before it be too late., If you are now acting upon possibilities, you may be committing the greatest of conceivable wrongs. Speak! and let me unriddle to you dark enigmas, a medical man alone can solve. Let me help you, Mr. Argyle, to the possession of your right reason." 17 page: 386-387[View Page 386-387] 386 MARYEING TOO LATE. "Griscom, you are rude, sir. You have intruded upon my privacy, and I now tell you, once for all, I neither want your friendship nor your services; and I bid you, sir, begone!" "Mr. Argyle, pardon me for any offensiveness of man- ner I have used. We have not been accustomed to cull phrases, when we two have talked, and I have ventured upon our past intercourse. Let me take back all I have said, and once more let me beg you will recall the past." - No, sir; never! All our relations end here. I bid you good-night, sir!" Rising as he spoke, Mr. Argyle made his way to open the door into the hall. This was more than the amiability of Dr. Griscom could endure. Rising to leave, he said, "Thank God, I am relieved from the hard duty of rendering medical assistance to a man whose life is destined to be a curse to himself and society." The doctor met Janet in the hall. Her eyes were full of anxious inquiries, seeing he had just come out of the library; but she asked no questions. The doctor put on his cloak, and took up his hat, as if he was about to leave the house. "Are you not going up to see my mistress, doctor?" The doctor replied, "Not now, Janet. I have seen Mr. Argyle, and I cannot trust. myself to go to the bed- side of Mrs. Argyle now. On my return from seeing some patients, I will call." "And is there nothing to hope for, doctor?" "Nothing, Janet!" was the doctor's answer, as he left the house. THE FAMLY VISIT MR. ARGYE. 387 Janet had no sooner entered the room, than Meda called her to her bedside. "Who was it, Janet? ' Janet told her. "Why did he not come up to see me?"Janet said, " the doctor had some visits up-town to make before he saw her." Meda looked searchingly into the face of Janet, who, overcome by her emotions, fell to crying. "Do not weep, good Janet; I know all you can tell me." The bell rang. "Go, Janet! I can see no one to-night; not even Robert," Janet found Mr. and Mrs. Duncan and Mr. and Mrs. Ross standing in a circle in the entry, in whispering de- bate. They had made the discovery of Mr. Argyle's return. Janet, having delivered Meda's message, returned with many messages of love and sympathy. "What was to be done?" and they all concluded with the advice offered by Mr. Duncan, that nothing else was to be done, but to go and seek an interview with Mr. Argyle. It must be done, and the sooner, the better. It required some time for the ladies to get ready for this trying scene, but their husbands, for once, were in no hurry. They huddled together at the door of the library before Mr. Duncan tapped. "Come in," cried a hollow voice. They passed in, and the door was closed. It was a long visit, and the faces of these good people told McCrie, who was on the look-out, that no good had come of their tears and entreaties. McCrie endeavored to induce Mr. Dun- can to speak, as he was helping him on with his overcoat. In compassion to his old friend Mr. Duncan turned back, and said, "My good friend McCrie, I am grieved to say we have done nothing; we can do nothing." page: 388-389[View Page 388-389] 388 MARRYING TOO LATE. Meda lay listening. She knew the results of that visit without the aid of McCrie, who, having nothing good to tell, went down to soothe the sorrows of his ' gude wife' as best he could. Again the bell rang. It was Doctor Griscom's ring, and Meda was ready to welcome him with a smile. There had grown up a most tender regard between the doctor and his patient. Her pulse was irritable and wiry. The doctor sat by the bedside, holding the hand of Meda, affect- ing to feel her pulse, but really striving to get himself ready to tell her of what she must be anxious to be told-- of his interviewwith her husband. He could not trust himself; and having prepared an anodyne, which he per- suaded her she must take, with tones of almost sobbing tenderness, he whispered, "God help you, my greatly wronged and aggrieved lady!" and withdrew. Meda was alert, listening. She heard the footstep of Mr. Argyle on the stairs, in the hall, opening his cham- ber door, which he locked after him, showing his purpose to be saved all further annoyance for the night. When this was all past, Janet placed herself at the bedside of Meda, as was her wont, repeated hymns, and Scripture texts to her mistress, till she was requested by Meda to pray with her-a last duty-for which Janet was wonder- fully gifted. The Sabbath dawned clear and cold. The sun was shin- ing brightly, when Meda woke to, life and wretchedness. This was her last Sabbath and her last day in New York. MEDALS LAST sABBxrH. 389 Janet came to her side to welcome her back to conscious- ness. Meda extended her hand, and drew Janet towards her, and kissed her. Meda must kiss some one. Her dear sister, Rachel, had been most miserable and sick, confined to her chamber ever since her boy was born. Deprived of her presence, and Elvira being absent with her father's family, Janet had become to Meda her ministering, angel, and was no more her maid, but a loved and loving friend., Poor Rachel did what she could. She sent her baby every day with notes full of tender sympathy pinned upon his bosom; but such was Meda's debility of nerves she could reply to these but by messages sent by Robert and- Janet. Meda was dressed with all care by Janet, in which she delighted as much as Elvira, when the bells of the neigh- boring churches rang their ten o'clock call for the assem- bling of the children to Sunday-school. Seated in her sick-chair, Meda requested to be wheeled up to the win- dow, that she might see the children once more. Her countenance was beaming with heavenly radiance. Janet had seen it as she slept; and when old McOrie and wife came into the chamber to make their morning visit, these good souls felt awed, as if in the presence of an angel. Meda was full of love for them all; and when they rose, fearing to have trespassed too long on Meda's strength, she would not let them go, nor would she permit the dogs, who, as usual, came up with McCrie, to be taken out of-the chamber. McCrie sought to speak of their separation, and to tell Meda how miserable he and his wife were, and were to be; but she would not let him proceed. She requested page: 390-391[View Page 390-391] 390 MAiRYIiG TOO LATE. Janet to open a drawer, in which lay an octavo Bible, and Hymn Book, bound in morocco, of the whitest paper and the largest type Robert could find any where. These, with gold spectacles for each, Meda gave McCrie and his dear wife, whose hearts were too full to speak their thanks. With tears they received these last gifts, and withdrew to weep together over their great grief. Robert now entered with his precious bundle, which unwrapped, revealed his little boy, glad to see his foster- mother once more. He crowed, and in various ways showed his joy in being again in the arms of Meda. Rob- ert, as was his wont, sat on a stool beside Meda's chair. Janet had gone down with presents to each of the ser- vants, with messages from Meda, and thus they were alone. Meda spoke in low tones, but with great earnest. ness, a message she had to send to Rachel. "My dear Robert, say to Rachel I am at peace with all the world, and I feel as if all the world was at peace with me; for now, at last, God's will and mine are one." As Meda spoke, the enkindling rapture of her eyes, lifted to heaven in silent prayer, made Robert feel as if she was all ready for heaven. There was a glow of gratitude in every fea- ture. Robert sat in silence, gazing upon this irradiation of a soul full of love. Meda returned to earth, and recommenced her message to Rachel.--' Tell my beloved sister--0, how loved!-I leave to-morrow morning in the steamer. My father believes I have only to be borne away from this roof, and this city and country, to recover my health, my strength,- and spirits. te is roused almost to madness when I tell him I have no such hope. I want ,.OK THE PLANS OF COUNT MONTALWDI. 391 to tell him I am dying, day by day, slowly and surely; but I am too weak to contend with him now. "His plan, Robert, is to procure a divorce from the Pope, and your uncle has come back to sign a paper to secure this separation. This he can get, aided by his friend and patron, the very eminent Cardinal Antonelli. He loves to dwell on my brilliant future, on my recovery, my renewed vivacity, when I shall remember the present only as an episode in my life, not without its pleasing recollections. He tells me, I am yet to shine in courts, where my talents will make me an object of love and admiration. And Robert, if I was now what I once was, my father's wishes might be realized, Yes! his judgment is perfect of me as Iwas, when Meda Montaldi, a girl of sixteen at Rome; but now I am Meda Montaldi Argyle; and my pride and passion are gone." Meda remained silent awhile, occupied with the care of the baby in her arms. She seemed to wish to go on, but was silent. "I must speak to you, and through you to Rachel, of revelations made to me last night"- pausing, Meda looked as if she was betraying a trust, but, gaining fresh confidence from her thoughts, she went on, but ,in a whispering tone;--"It was last night; the clock had struck ten, and Janet had been at my bedside, repeating to me Scripture texts and verses of hymns, whilst I lay with my eyes closed, upon my pillow. The dear girl, thinking me, exhausted and sleepy, asked ' if she should pray with me.' I -assented, and Janet, with fervor and exquisite beauty of language, all drawn from her Bible, made a prayer to God on my behalf. Dear Janet! I have now a last request to page: 392-393[View Page 392-393] 392 MArARYIG TOO LATE. make for her. She will be most miserable, if left here, when I am gone. I wish you and Rachel to take her home for my sake." "She shall have a home with us and in our hearts, while she lives, for her own sake and for yours." "Thank you, Robert, for Janet, and for myself. Now I will go on with my story-strange, but true! I was wide awake, lying serenely submissive to the will of God, in whose hands I lay weak and helpless, disowned and dis- honored by my husband, but upheld, feeling that ' the Eternal God was my refuge, and underneath me were the everlasting arms '-(this was one of Janet's sweet texts repeated to me last evening)-I felt what it was to be 'saved with an everlasting salvation.' Is not that Scrip- ture language too, Robert?" Robert bowed affirma- tively. "How wonderful it is!" continued Meda; " and there are so many such texts, all exactly suited to my con- dition and wants!" "Yes, dearest Meda; but please go on with your story." "I will, Robert. You must forgive me if I wander; for my heart is full of new discoveries of spiritual truths, now revealed to my apprehension for the first time. While lying in this happy state of mind, I heard a voice silvery sweet, whisper close to my ear.-' My sister, your soul will soon be free ' O, what an emphasis there was on the word free! I felt its force so vividly, that it seemed winged with immortality, and to my apprehension, at a single bound I could have swept away from earth to heaven. I opened my eyes, but saw nothing. Closing bhem. again, I listened; and once more that still, small, THE :REVELATION MADE TO MED v 393 silver voice, came whispering to me.-' Meda, fear not I You will soon soar with me to heaven.' Janet all this while sat at the fireplace, in her easy-chair, sleeping, as I supposed. I called her to me. Janet, are you asleep?' I asked. She came to the bedside, and said she was not sleeping. ' What were you whispering just now?' She replied, ' she was not moving her lips, but praying for me in her heart, as I doubt not she was. Such, Robert, was the voice sent me from God, and now the agony of sepa- ration from all I love is taken away. Tell this to dear Rachel; bid her rejoice that with me the agony of death is passed. So bitter it has been! I wish I could say more, but I am weary. Com'e again with this sweet boy, to-morrow, at nine, once more; and then"--Meda's feel- ings overcame her, and she laid herself back in the chair. Robert, with an impulse rose, and crossing the hall, knocked at his uncle's chamber-door. Mr. Argyle, who was pacing his room, opened the door and caught a glimpse of Meda and the baby. He retreated backward, and with a fierce look and a harsh voice (for his temper had become unbearable), bade Robert close the door. Janet, at that moment, coming up from below, and seeing Meda's chamber door open, hastened to close it, at the instant Robert shut the door of Mr. Argyle's room, "What brings you here, sir?" sai4 Mr. Argyle. "I come to beg you to see the wife you are about to send from you for ever!"Robert replied, in a tone of truthfulness and energy that made itself felt. "Miserable wretches that you are!" Mr. Argyle replied, with bitterness. A Ah! you have got up a tableau 17* page: 394-395[View Page 394-395] 894 MARRYmG TOO LAT'E. Mivante to subdue me! Really, my nephew, you surprise me! You, to become the- ready instrument in the hands of Meda, to make this last appeal to my affections, and that I may become once more her dupe." "Uncle Robert, you do your wife infinite wrong! I an instrument, and you a dupe I No, sir; it was with longing desires to restore you to peace and joy I came to your door. It was an impulse of my own heart that -brought me out of Meda's room to yours. Contrivance I Uncle Robert, you do Meda nothing but wrong, hereafter to be revenged upon yourself-too late.*" "I won't endure this species of annoyance. Leave me, sir I " and as Robert turned to go, Mr. Argyle laid his hand upon the door-knob: "Stay, sir: has Count Montaldi taken passage in the steamer which sails to- morrow noon?" "He has for himself and Meda, Elvira and his men- servants. I visited the state-room assigned to Meda, and saw some of her trunks already on board. To-morrow, uncle Robert, we lose our beloved Meda." "Thank God! I have but one night to endure her presence here. Now, sir, go home; and tell Rachel to keep both her baby and husband at her side, till such time as it shall suit both herself and me to meet under my roof" With mixed emotions of grief and anger Robert returned into Meda's chamber. She looked up, but made no inquiry -of any kind. "The child was carefully wrapped up in his flannel robes, under the supervision of Meda, by Janet, and, with a kiss for Rachel impressed on his lips RACHEL PROPOSES A MEDIATOR. 395 by Meda, Robert carried him home to Rachel, to whom he hastened with his heart full of sorrowful tidings. Rachel folded her boy to her bosom while Robert repeated all Meda had told him, and of his interview with his uncle. "It is God's will, and we must submit," said Robert. Rachel lifting up her boy, her eyes full of enthusiasm, cried--"Here is the mediator! Robert, let us give our boy to uncle Argyle and Meda " It was a very slender thread to hang a hope upon, but such as it was, Robert caught it, and said," Yes, love, we will give him to Meda; " and they spent an hour in talking over this scheme, till it grew more and more into their hearts, and at last they could no longer doubt it was an inspiration from the Holy One. While the good people of the city were listening to the sermons of their several ministers, Count Montaldi, accompanied by the resident consul of the Papal States, called by appointment upon Mr. Argyle-Sunday though it was. Daniel Webster once said, "There are no Sabbaths' in revolutionary times," and though Mr. Argyle was a rigid Sabbatarian usually, these were to him days of convul- sion, tumult, and passion, and all days were alike now. These gentlemen were shown into the library by Mc- Crie, who was requested to bring in Felix and Juan, to be, with himself, witnesses to a paper to be signed in presence of the papal consul. We may here say that this docu- ment was a paper of agreed facts-'setting forth that Mr., page: 396-397[View Page 396-397] 396 MARRYING TOb LASTE. Argyle, on grounds sufficient for his own government, but incapable of proof, sought to be separated by a divorce from Meda Montaldi, and hereby consented to any action taken by Count Montaldi to attain this end. The count presented the pen to Mr. Argyle to sign first, with a grace- ful gesture, and a smile of utmost courtesy. Mr. Argyle's brow was wrinkled into a gloomy frown, and every muscle of his face became convulsed while he was writing his name. On the contrary, the count wrote his name with unusual clearness, and made a most ingenious flourish to his signature. Then Felix, and next Juan wrote their names as witnesses; and last of all McCrie took up the pen to write his name, which was so blotted with his tears as to be illegible. As soon as he had done this duty, the old man went straight down to his 'auld wife,' who anxiously awaited his coming, crying out, "O, Maggie! it is a' ower noo. Argyle has just signed a compact wi" the deil, an' it's a' aboon geeing up our dear leddy."7 The count having sent home the consul in his carriage, ran up to see Meda. His joy of heart was,- for once, beaming from his face. Meda was propped up in her sick- chair, sitting at the window, looking out upon the people, just now thronging the. pavement, on their way home from church. He took a seat on the stool Robert had sat upon, and Meda gave him a kiss. She had seen the car- riage stop-; had seen the papal consul enter with Felix and Juan; had heard them all enter the library of Mr. Argyle; sh - had seen the consul, in returning to the car- riage, take with him an envelope of papers, and when MB. ARGYE SIGNS FOR A DIVORCE. 397 the count took Meda's hand, she said, ' T fhe last link 4s broken/!" ( Yes, love," replied the count, with a cheerful, bright tone. Meda had known this; her sensitive soul ' had told her it was her divorce that was contained in those papers, which the consul had taken to his offiee for the purpose of affixing his seal of office; but when her father confirmed this intuition of her soul, she swooned in his arms. The count was much moved, and aided Janet in bringing his child back to life and misery. He sought to soothe her by telling her she would recover as soon as she was away from all the depressing influences around her. Meda listened, as was her wont, leaning back upon the pillows of her chair, with her eyes closed. She looked the picture of wasting melancholy. The count sought to enlist her attention-to draw from her some remark. He labored to awaken, if possible, antagonism; any thing bet- ter than this sickening and depressing sorrow of heart. Medaj to meet the wishes of her father, made the effort to rouse herself. t Father, do you think the world contains any more lovable beings than my circle of friends in this city? Shall I ever find another Rachel and Robert, another Mr. and Mrs. MacAlpine?" "Nobility of nature, dearest Meda, is of no clime. It exists every where. And I do not ask you to love these friends less; but I long, my child, to see you once more re- stored to health, in a lofty sphere of society in which you are destined to shine a star of life and beauty." eda shook her head. "It will never be, father." After a pause -she added, "I do not believe there can be any deep, devoted ,!? page: 398-399[View Page 398-399] 398 MARRYING TOO LATE. love in worldly hearts; among those unsanctified and unsaved." The count was taken by surprise. "What a speech!" he exclaimed; and turning to Janet, who sat in her sweet sunday-go-to-meeting dress, at the fireplace, reading her Bible, he said "My little Puritan, you have bewitched your mistress; and if you did- not love her so well, I could wish you had never left your Highland heaths." Janet, looking round, caught the loving glances of Meda resting upon her. She had been so absorbed in her reading as not to know any thing that had been said till the count, raising his voice and turning towards her, had addressed her. Meda spoke: "Janet, my father is jealous of my loving you too much." Janet rose, her face crimsoned with her emotions, and kneeling beside Meda, she said, "My sweet lady, gladly, gladly would I die, to see you once more well and happy." "Father," said Meda, taking Janet's hand in hers, "can splendor, refinement, grace, equal such love as this? And it is all true. I feel it. I know it.)" The count had no wish to continue the conversation. He expressed his fears he had tasked her too far already, and patting the head of Janet, he left the room. Doctor Griscom came in soon after. It was his last visit. He held the hand of Meda for some moments, when making the usual inquiries. Rising, he handed her a letter addressed to Count Montaldi, in which he had writ- ten all his skill suggested for- her comfort and well-being MR. ARGYE DINES IN HS LIBRARY. 399 on the- voyage. "Should I not see you again, dear Mrs. Argyle, God bless you, and be with you." "Shall I not see you again?" asked Meda, in a tone expressive of her longing that he would come again. "I regret to say, I leave town to visit a patient in the country; one to whom I am bound by ties of love and gratitude, and for whom I desert all my patients, even my most loved and most respected Mrs. Argyle." Mr. Argyle dined alone, in his library. He had spent the whole morning in solitude, and at two o'clock his dinner- was served by his orders in that room. Old McCrie and his wife were not to be seen on that day. Mr. Argyle, though he had no appetite, drank largely of a bottle of old Port he had ordered to be opened, of the famous vintage of 1780, especially broached for this day. Usually he was abstinent and rarely took a second glass; but now he felt he must be fortified, and he would have indulged him- self with a segar which he lit, but was so forgetful that it went out between the whiffs, and finally was thrown into the fireplace. At this time his servant brought in a message from Lucretia, that she was in the parlor, anxious to see him. He requested her to come to him. Lucretia en- tered. "On my way to church I stopped to see you, Uncle Robert." Uncle Robert bowed, but made no reply. This conduct, so curt and unexpected, at once roused Lucretia. She neither wanted for words nor eloquence of manner; she told him she felt herself impelled to come in person to save him-to save his sisters and their children, page: 400-401[View Page 400-401] 400 MARRYING TOO LATE. herself included, from all the slander, censure, and cruelty, consequent on his madness. Mr. Argyle listened with a firm settled air at first, but when Lucretia described to him the notoriety which must follow his conduct, he grew moody, dark and sullen, and when she concluded by asking him, " what was his answer for his conduct?" Mr. Argyle, who had lit a new segar, to aid him to endure all that was now being inflicted upon him, blew out a volume of smoke, saying, "See!" Lucretia saw the smoke rise and disperse. "And do you, think, uncle, these inquiries are to vanish into thin air? Sir, society has its rights: it will make demands of you; demands you must meet, or become another Cain; a wan. derer and a vagabond on the face of the earth." This was a brave speech, but it was not one for which Mr. Argyle had any admiration. He rose and led Lucretia into the hall, and returned and locked the door of the library. There stood Lucretia in a state of high excite- ment, not knowing whether to weep, or to return and com- pel her uncle to re-open the door, and hear what more she had to say. Old Mrs. McCrie, coming up with a mournful face, turned the current of Lucretia's thoughts. "Ah, Mrs. McCrie," said Lucretia, and tears rose-to her eyes as she spoke, "Uncle Robert is a doomed man I God has sent judicial blindness upon him. I ought to go to church, but I can't. I want to see Meda, dear aunt .Meda! but I dare not. Tell her I love her dearly. What will you do when Meda is gone?--Tell Meda I shall go home and weep and pray for her. God bless you all, McCrie," and, leaving ME. ARGYE VISITS RACHEL. 401 the old lady grieved for all she had told her, Lucretia left the house and went home. The day, as we have before said, was clear, and the air bracing. Mr. Argyle, weary of being so long a close prisoner, the bells having now all ceased tolling- for after- noon service, put on his overcoat, and took his cane for a brisk walk. He had received a note before dinner from Rachel, which at the time he put into his pocket, having slightly glanced it over;, but now, before leaving the house he read it. Rachel had long been a chief favorite of his. He had always regarded her as a pattern wife. In a most loving, soothing, winning style, Rachel begged him to come and see her after dinner. She said, she was to be alone that afternoon, and entreated him most earnestly to come, for she had something to present to him; a precious gift, which would be of inestimable value to him now, and as long as he lived. As he walked, he thought of Rachel's note, so mysterious as it was, but what won his heart was the loving tone in which it was written; so unlike every thing he had felt for so long a time, that, though he had firmly resolved not to go to see Rachel, he went. On entering the sick-chamber of Rachel, Mr. Argyle found her alone, sitting in a large chair, precisely like Meda's, and which indeed was one of Meda's many gifts to her dear Rachel, with her lovely boy lying asleep in her lap. He was arrested by the sight, for it reminded him of Meda and the baby, and he asked himself, "' Is this a trap?" Rachel's voice dispelled all gloom, for it was soft and loving in its tones, and brought Mr. Argyle at once page: 402-403[View Page 402-403] 402 MARRlYiNG TOO LATE. to the stool beside her, which had just been vacated by Robert, who left the room on hearing his uncle's ring of the door-bell. Mr. Argyle made the usual inquiries after her health, and of the boy, to which Rachel made very vague and indistinct ,answers. She was, poor girl! endeavoring to recall any one of the many most moving and eloquent appeals she had memorized, but now they were all gone. Not a single sentence could she recall. Seeing her embar- rassment, Mr. Argyle was softened. The awe he inspired, so unlike Lucretia's manner, which provoked him to resist- ance, induced him -to say, "Come, Rachel, you have some. thing to tell me: say on." Choking down her emotions, which seemed likely to ruin every hope she entertained, Rachel took Mr. Argyle's hand and kissed it. "My beloved uncle, you know how much I love you; not only for all you have done for Robert,-but -for all the kindness and affection you have shown me, whom you have adopted into your heart as the wife of Robert, and the sister of Meda--Meda! my best beloved. O how I long to see you happy; to see you both once more re- united in love;- and it is for this end, and to show you both, the highest expression of Robert's love and mine, that I have sent for you, my uncle, to give to you and to Meda. this, my beautiful boy. Take him, uncle, take him! and let my boy take the place of the child that is not. Let this boy re-unite you to Meda, and be the bond which shall bind all our hearts once more together in love and blessedness. Take the boy, uncle! take him!" and, MR. ARGYE REFUSES BACHEL S GIFT. 403 Rachel, with the tears streaming, lifted up her boy. To refuse such a gift was to Rachel impossible. Not so to Mr. Argyle. He took the boy, and having kissed him, laid him back upon Rachel's lap. Rachel looked her amazement. "Rachel," said Mr. Argyle, "I do regard your offered 1 gift as the supremest expression of your love, for Meda and for me. I cannot accept your boy for myself, and I will not for Meda. My dear Rachel, Meda Montaldi is unworthy of such devotion. I wish it were not so!" "Unworthy! never, never, no never! I know the soul of Meda as truly as I do my own You wrong Meda, uncle. My sweet sister! who can doubt your crystal purity of soul. It is cruelty to do so, uncle. It -is wicked; very, very wicked!" t I pardon you, Rachel, every such expression of your anger. I love you for your credulity. I wish to God I could share it, but I cannot. Meda Montaldi is only sur- passed in hypocrisy and fraud by her father, Count Mon- taldi; and, Rachel, she is worthy her parentage." So saying Mr. Argyle rose and left the room. Robert found Rachel in tears. Her grief was great. Her last hope had been dashed down to the ground. Her child, her boy, had been refused! All the sweet creations of her fancy, full of love and delight for the future of herself, her Meda, and her boy, were swept away, and she was to see Meda, dear Meda! no more. page: 404-405[View Page 404-405] CHAPTER XLII. MEDA'S DEPARTURE.* MEDA, exhausted, was undressed, and put to bed at dark. The count called, and seeing Meda asleep, stood at the foot of the bed, looking at his child.. There was a smile upon his face which Janet did not like. It pained her to see it. She could not penetrate into that heart which found its gratification in bearing away his child, broken- hearted, from the only home she had ever known; and in leaving behind him a city in which he had been received with all kindness and confidence, and from which he departed, not unlike the ancient Israelites, laden with the spoils of his friends and neighbors. He felt he would leave nothing behind him but his reputation, and for- its safe-keeping, he had taken hostages, known best to those who were most despoiled. t The count, commending Meda to the care of Janet, left the house. It was past midnight when Meda woke, and seeing Janet sleeping in the chair at her bedside, she called-- "Undress yourself, Janet, and let me lie folded in your MEDALS LAST MESSAGES. 405 arms for the last time." Janet hastened to comply, and began to weep. "Hush!" said Meda, "do not weep now. I have something to say." Janet controlled her- self, and, as requested, so adjusted Medals pillows that she could change her position. This done, Meda began- "Robert and Rachel will give you, my dear Janet, a home with them. Go to Rachel; and when you shall recall all that is dear to your memories of the past, tell Rachel how much I loved her and Robert: kiss the little boy, every day, one kiss for me. O, how I have been loved! by you, Janet, by dear old McCrie, and his Maggie. God bless them! Say to them, my heart is full of gratitude for all their love. And tell Mrs. Lloyd and her dear husband, Mr. and Mrs. MacAlpine, Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, and Mr. and Mrs. Ross, and Lucretia, each and all, my heart is breaking when I think I shall see them no more." Meda could not proceed: sobbing, they wept themselves asleep. It was morning: the sun was shining into the chamber, when they awoke. Janet rose and dressed herself; kneeling at the bedside of Meda, and holding her dear hand, with the unction and fervor of a saint, she prayed her last prayer. Fondly did -Meda fold her arms around Janet, and kiss her, thanking her again and again, for her love and pity. With a degree of calmness that surprised herself even, Meda was dressed by Janet, and once more seated in her chair. She then sent Janet to ask McCrie and his wife to come up and take leave- of her, and to bring up the dogs. Malcom and Graeme came tearing up the stairway, and yelped to enter Medals chamber. - Usually they were led page: 406-407[View Page 406-407] 406 MARRYING TOO LATE. up by old Mcrie, and then better behaved dogs could not be found anywhere; but now Janet had undertaken this service,) and away flew the dogs regardless of all control. Mr. Argyle felt as if he could throttle ther ascals for the love they had for Meda. This gentleman had been kept awake by restlessness and fever, and had only fallen asleep as the day broke. When Janet opened the door, in rushed the dogs, but, as if awed by the presence of Meda, who lifted up her hand to keep them at bay, they crept along the carpet to her feet, and gently licked her hands. Janet, fearful of their rudeness, was surprised at the sagacity and sympathy these dogs expressed. It was wonderful to see the lools they fastened, on Meda, as she with tears told them she was going away from them, and they would never kiss her hand again. This sad colloquy of Meda's and the dogs lasted till the steps of Mcrie and his wife were, heard coming along, when they hid themselves be- hind Meda's chair. These good folks brought up each a portion of Meda's breakfast-the nicest rolls, and the richest coffee. This was laid on a table, and they insisted upon her breakfasting in their presence. Meda did her best; but it was little she could eat, and a single cup of coffee was all she could drink. In vain did old Mrs. crie say, " the cup did not hold but a thimbleful;" it was a thimbleful that satisfied Meda. There being no more they could do, these dear old people felt they ought to leave Meda, but they could not consent to go; Meda, seeing it, called the old man and wife to her, and taking their hands, struggling to suppress her grief, said, "Janet will tell you all I would ROBERT AND HS BOY AND MEDA. 407 say. I dare not trust myself now to speak. Pray for me, and now kiss me, dear Donald, and you, 'my auld mither,' ' an endearment often used by Meda. Speechless they went out, and when the door closed upon them, Meda felt she had sundered one of the ligaments to life. At ten Robert came, bearing his boy. This was a desired and dreaded interview. The little boy was glad to see Meda. In silence and in tears she once more folded the child -to her bosom. She kissed him often, her tears falling on his face and neck. The boy, satisfied, fell asleep. Without one word, Meda folded the robes around him, and looking up to Robert, who all this while stood leaning over the back of her chair, hiding his grief, she whispered, "Take him, Robert." With one last kiss, Robert hastened out of the house with his boy. Elvira now came, and at once proceeded, with busi- ness-like despatch, to pack up the trunk. She requested Meda to give her the key to the safe in which the jewels were kept. When the casket was brought out, Elvira also took from the safe a jewelled dagger, the gift of the prince cardinal's son to Meda. Meda asked to see them, and Elvira laid the casket and the dagger in her lap. The key to the casket hung by a ribbon to one of the handlei Meda opened it, and took up the several ornaments, hold- ing them up so that the irridescence of the diamonds could be best seen. Then she drew out the -dagger, and smiling at some thought it suggested, returned it to the sheath, saying: "Here, Janet, I give you this dagger for a keepsake." Elvira, astonished, said, " Of what use will it be to Janet? If you give it away, pray give it me." ,. ;. , page: 408-409[View Page 408-409] 408 MARRYING TOO LATE. "For that very reason, Elvira; as a keepsake it will be just as good to Janet as any thing else." Janet received the weapon with timidity, and laid it in one of the empty open drawers of the dressing-table. Elvira then left the room to run up to Juan's room, to see if any thing had been forgotten. As soon as she was gone, Meda gave Janet the open casket, and told her to take it to Mr. Argyle, and say to him, "Meda Argyle returns to her husband her jewels, and begs, as a last favor, to see him instantly.? Janet took the casket and carried it to Mr.,Argyle's chamber-door, who opened the door to her knock. While Janet was gone, Elvira re- entered, and not seeing the jewels, asked, "Where is the casket of jewels?" Meda told her she had sent them to her husband, Elvira lifted up her hands, and stood in speechless amazemnent, when Janet, with a sad expres- sion, brought the casket back. Elvira sprang to take it, but Janet evaded her clutch, and laid the diamonds in Meda's lap. "Mr. Argyle says, these diamonds are not his." "Did he refuse them!" cried Elvira. "Silence, Elvira!" and Elvira retired behind Meda's chair. "What did he say to my request, Janet?" "He made no reply to it, dear lady," replied Janet. Janet could have said that on entering his chamber, she delivered her message with the greatest gentleness, and in a way which would have been an eloquent appeal to soften any heart but his, beseeching him for the sake of heaven and mercy, to grant the request of her dear lady. MR2. ARGYE SENDS' BACK JANET. ,409 And that Mr. Argyle replied, "Take these baubles back, and say to your mistress, they are hers; she has fairly won them as a reward for her- dark duplicity," and that she, poor girl! cut- to the heart, hNdd brought back the casket, without a word of reply to the specific request she had been charged with. . Meda rose, and opening the door, crossed over to the door of Mr. Argyle's; chamber. He knew whose knock it was, for he was passing the door at the moment, striding up and down the 'room in a tempest of conflictingiemo- tions. His heart was up in arms, and love was struggling with pride. It was then he heard Meda's feeble step in the hall. Her footfall once had music in it, and was not so soon forgotten. She called, and entreated him to open the door, telling him, "it was for the last time, and she must see him once more-he must speak to her his last farewell;" but no! he listened-but so far from moving towards the door, retreated and sunk into the great chair, once so loved by him and Meda, and listened, with wide staring eyes, as if Meda, feeble as she was, would burst open the bolted door. Poor Janet was all this while upon her knees, and Elvira stood powerless, in the act of packing away the casket of jewels.. Both were roused by seeing Meda,:so weak before as to be hardly able to stand, rush into the chamber, and flying to the dressing-table on which the dagger lay, drawing it from the sheath, return to Mr. Argyle's door, beating it with the handle, crying in tones; of agony, ( Open the, door, or I will drive this dagger to my heart!" A suicide!- ftashed, like a gleam of lightning in a dark 18 page: 410-411[View Page 410-411] "O BARRYIrNa TOO LATE. night, into Mr. Argyle's mind. 'He sprung and opened the door; when Meda, with the dagger in' her hand, entered. Mr. Argyle "drew backward, and sunk into the chair from which he had just risen. Meda, casting away the dagger, threw her arms round his neck, and cried, "O, save me! save me!"-and with a sigh, which seemed to burst her heart, she sank into a swoon upon his breast. Mr. Argyle called out for Janet. Janet and Elvira came in and carried Meda back to her bed; where they were occupied in bringing her to life, when the count, in his carriage, and Felix in another, came to the door. The count entered with Felix, and addressed Elvira for an explanation, which she gave. As soon as Meda was once more conscious, the count knelt beside her and spoke to her soothingly. Juan and Felix then lifted her up, while the count wrapped a cloak about her, and Elvira and Janet hung furs around her neck and shoulders. As Meda was borne out of her chamber she gazed wildly around, and see- ing Mr. Argyle standing in the centre of his room, she cried to him, in a tone so touching, that it brought him to her side, - Kiss me, good-bye! I Mr. Argyle could not refuse. He kissed Meda. t Bless you! A ddio," sighed Meda, as Felix and Juan, impatient of delay, hastened down the grand staircase, followed by Count Montaldi. There stood McCrie and his wife, to catch a last look of their sweet child, borne like a corpse to the carriage. The count entering, received Meda into his arms; Felix mounted the box with the driver, and the carriage drove off, followed by the dogs, barking strangely. MEDALS DEPARTURE. 4" Juan waited for Elvira and the trunk. "Elvira, please put this into your pocket for my dear lady. Tell her 'tis her Janet's last gift." It was a little red morocco-bound book, which Janet wore in her pocket, entitled, "Daily Food." Elvira promised she would give it to her mistress, with all the messages Janet sent with it. "Janet," said Elvira, as Juan took the trunk out of the chamber, and she was putting on her furs, aided by dear Janet, " you are the only being I regret to leave behind me. Now what can I do to show you my love?" "O, write me, Elvira, on your reaching England, all about my dear lady I Will you do me this favor? It is my last request." "I will, Janet," and with a kiss these two parted. There was no one to say good-bye to' these departing guests. With glad hearts they entered the coach, and hastened to the steamer. Mr. Argyle was looking out of his chamber windows, in a deep study, some hours after, when he saw his dogs, wearing marks of deep dejection, coming up the pavement together. Poor dogs! they had been beaten and driven out of the cabin of the steamer. A pang shot into lis soul, as he thought how far-reaching was his wretchedness, and how many were stricken down with grief as well. as himself, even to his dogs. But he had done his duty. He had acted conscientiously, and he could and would endure the fiery trial with the firmness and forbearance befitting and becoming a Cameronian and a Scotchman. ...J' page: 412-413[View Page 412-413] CHAPTER XLIII, MR. ARaY LE'S SEARCH FOR HS WIFE. MR. ARGYE found, before" a month had elapsed, that his separation from Meda had become a subject of conver- sation all over the city. All that Lucretia had foretold him was verified to-the letter. Indeed, stories the most calumnious of Meda, and most disgraceful to himself, be- came current. And these gained upon the public from the mysterious silence observed by the family and circle of intimate friends, who, if they knew, could give no ex- planation. They came to Mr. Argyle, and ;remonstrated with him that they were placed before the public in a false position, and that he must defend himself or give them the means to do so. Mr. Argyle in reply, raged, and said he would not disgrace himself by chasing such rumors, and he had nothing more to say. Such being his final purpose, Doctor Griscom, Mrs. MacAlpine,- and others of Medals friends (and she had many) were bold to tell all they knew, and that Meda had MTSIAY OF ME. ARGYE AT EOME. 13 been cruelly sacrificed to the jealousy of her husband. "It was due to womanhood to say this, and they said it, in the fear of God, and in defence of one who had left behind her only recollections full of gentleness and goodness." At home, Mr. Argyle busied himself in obliterating all traces of Meda's presence. Her portraits were taken down and sent up, into Meda's studio, with all the pictures, statuettes, and articles of virttu she had brought with her, and which Count Montaldi had left behind: but it was as fruitless a task, as to remove the figure of Phidias from the famous shield of Minerva. Meda, was so inwrought into every thing around and about him, that he felt he must travel to change the scene. The sad faces of McCrie and his wife had banished them from his parlors. He saw them as rarely as pos- sible, nor were they any way anxious to come where he was. As for the dogs, having dared to whine about the breakfast-room for Meda one morning, they were kicked out of the room for their devotion; nor would he allow them to reappear. Indeed, the months which elapsed were full of conflict without and restlessness within. It was only in Wall street, that he felt himself where the gloom of his existence did not reach him. Men in the pursuit of wealth, had neither time nor inclination to think or speak of domestic infelicities, and they drove their bargains with Mr. Argyle with the same heartiness and hilarity as with any one else. What a refuge in distress! - But Mr. Argyle, though a very poor Christian, was too much of -a Christian to be happy -in such consolations as Wall street had to offer. He could not forget Meda, if page: 414-415[View Page 414-415] "4 MAREYING TOO LATE. his associates, from indifference or politeness, were pleased to do so. Then as he sat in his chamber, during the long winter nights, solitary and alone, the thought would come to' his mind, like a spectre seen in the darkened room, Meda may be innocent! The idea, that he had made a mistake, was, indeed, the highest point of suffering. Many were the surprises that came, home to him) as when his friend Muir, speaking of Meda, chanced to tell Robert about Meda's pawning her jewels, so as to raise the needed money to place him in the house of Launghorne and Company. This narrative overwhelmed Robert, who went at once to his uncle, and with passionate exclamations of grief, told him all he had just heard, praying him to go and bring back Meda. All such manifestations of the nobleness of Meda's character, were like coals of fire heaped upon the head of Mr. Argyle, while they increased the confidence and zeal, and heightened the love of all who had espoused her in- nocency. When he could endure a residence in this country no longer, with all secrecy Mr. Argyle made his arrange- ments to go to Scotland -on a visit. Robert and Rachel were the only confidants Mr. Argyle made of this visit abroad. He made no allusion to Meda, nor could they, with all their skill, divine, whether he had in his heart any ulterior purpose, other than to get rid of the annoyances of living in New York. His business arrangements were in- trusted to Robert and his banker, who undertook the supervision' of his affairs during his absence. This done, Mr. Argyle left for London early in July, leaving his MB. ARGYE GOES andi uas . family as well as his friends alike, to be informed of his departure by his name appearing in the list of passengers in the steamer for Liverpool. On reaching England, Mr. Argyle without delay went over to Scotland to advise with his friends, the Macin- toshes, to whom he repeated all his story, and all his mo- tives of action. They were deeply interested, and with one accord expressed their full faith in Meda. Count Mon- taldi they regarded as, in all likelihood, a gamester, bold, talented, and corrupt. He had married Meda to him, that he might gain an entrance into the society of a rich city, where he had reaped a golden harvest. The effect of these consultations was, to awaken in the heart of Mr. Argyle emotions full of bitter regret. He came to love to be reassured of the purity and truthfulness of his wife. And the narratives of each of the Macintoshes of Meda's life and conversation, as she appeared to them during their visit to the United States, confirmed and strengthened his returning love and confidence. It became a matter of instant concernment to recover Meda. Sir Harry Inglis, one of the sons-in-law of Sir Archy Macintosh, offered to go on the search with Mr. Argyle. He was at home in Italy, and thought he could render Mr. Argyle good service, inasmuch as he had once been charged with the English legation in Rome. This offer was most gratefully accepted, and these gen- tlemen lost no time in making the journey to Naples, where Mr. Argyle was left; as Sir Harry thought it best for him to pursue his inquiries at Rome alone. While at Naples, Mr. Argyle sought for Doctor Henderson, a pious page: 416-417[View Page 416-417] lO MBARRYING TOO LATE. physician who went out in the same steamer with Count Montaldi, and found he had left for Sicily some ten days before his arrival, in company with his daughter. At Rome, Sir Harry, with all the diplomacy he could command, made his inquiries through agents he could rely upon to trace Count Montaldi, who was well known as a man of mystery, and believed to be in the diplomatic ser- vice of the Emperor of Austria. Counts Bononi and the Marquis Alferi were well-known names, but they belonged to nobles who hac not been out of Italy during the last three years: and with the husbands, the wives faded into myths. It was certain, no divorce had been applied for by Count Montaldi. Cardinal Santueci and his son the prince bishop, professed to have no knowledge of the resi- dence of the count, or of his daughter. Cardinal Antonelli was approached by Sir Harry in person. With the cun- ning of an Italian and a prime minister of the Popes he drew from Sir Harry every fact he had to reveal, and then showed himself to be at the same time incommunicable and unapproachable. He did not affect ignorance, as others might have done; but a bitter satisfaction in show- ing himself possessed of information he would not for any considerations of pity divulge. Finding all attempts fruit. less, Sir Harry returned to Naples, and Mr. Argyle and himself took the usual route homewards, stopping at all the various Cities. By the aid of gold and the police they sought to discover the hiding-place of Meda. Laht of all they came to Paris, and after a stay of ten days left the city, with every conviction upon their minds that Count MA. ARwXJLES J$T'UKAN 'U'V NEW YERK. LL 4 Montaldi ,had not been in Paris, nor, indeed, in France, since his landing in London. Mr. Argyle returned home, after an absence of eight months. His first labor was to restore Medals portraits to their places, and every article stowed away in the attic was replaced as Meda left it. Old McCrie and his "gude wife "' once more were welcome above stairs, and -Malcom and Graeme took their positions on either hand of his chair, and, usually, were his sole companions at breakfast and dinner. 18' , page: 418-419[View Page 418-419] CHAPTER XLIV. MSS A"Ivy GREEN"FINDS A HUSBAND IN THE REV. DR. TIMOTHY TOOGOOD. THS desolate condition of Mr. Argyle appealed tenderly to his family and friends for aid and sympathy, and to no one more persuasively than to Miss Ida Duncan. She made such a demonstration as showed the boundlessness of her sympathy; but all in vain. Mr. Argyle was not only un- appreciative, but he was without eyes, ears, or heart: to all 1 useful purposes, he might have been marble. Ida saw her labors utterly hopeless, afnd all the dreams inspired by what the countess had told her vanished, and left nothing on which to create so much as a castle in the air. This condition of her mind was followed by a most ex- traordinary revulsion. Among the members of the Gen- eral Assembly who assembled in Dr. Auchmuty's church, in the month of May following Mr. Argyle's return from his search after Meda, came the Reverend Doctor Timo- thy Toogood, who had been elected President of a Col- PRESIDENT TOOGOOD AND MS DUNCAN. 419 ege some where in the new States; but as it had never been built, and, in fact, only existed on the plat of a city never laid out, the doctor was left with a barren title. In the days of his youth, the Rev. Doctor had professed to be in love with Miss Duncan, but at that timei she had some six or seven offers under consideration, far more eligible than his, from men whom she had lived to see successful merchants and eminent lawyers; so this sleek student of divinity was hardly remembered till he reappeared at this synodical assembly, dressed in deepest mourning. He recently had been bereaved of a wife who had him left with four well-grown and poorly educated girls, and it was now his good fortune to find Miss Ida Duncan in the mood to believe-not marrying was the most miserable mistake of her life. Doctor, or President Toogood (he was honored with both titles at the pleasure of 'the speaker) was a smooth, silky, oily man, and brought all his powers of pleasing to bear upon Miss Duncan, who, having nothing better to do, was punctual in her attendance upon all convocations of the clergy. While the reerend clergy were cavilling about the ninth part of a hair, President Todgood and' Miss Duncan were to be seen in the distance, sitting in a pew, their heads very close together, in earnest conversa- tion. His tones were very seductive as he told her of his late distressing bereavement, and the sorrow that had shrouded his heart, without one ray of hope, till he met her at her brother's table. Then, indeed, the happy mem- ories of other days were awakened, and his first thought was, "Is Miss Duncan yet within the range of my aspira. page: 420-421[View Page 420-421] -420 M ARRYING TOO LATE. ' kions'?"His heart was lightened of a load when he heard her addressed as "Miss Duncan,"- and then he determined, with God's blessing, he would once again dare to address her, and tell her how much of his early- love remained un- dimmed by the lapse of years. His home, now dark and dismal, would be made bright by the blessed sunshine of her presence. It was quite affecting to some maiden ladies in the assembly, to witness this scene :-They could not hear a single word, to be sure, but, aided by their glasses, they saw how very pathetic w-as Doctor Toogood, and how very sympathetic was Miss Duncan. The doctor never gave Miss Duncan a chance to make any inquiries concerning his daughters; indeed, they were never alluded to by him, and she could only guess he had a family by some stray phrases, that showed this must be the case. He was too wise to dwell upon such matters, and kept himself, his love, his need of "just such a wife," for ever before her mind, till Miss Duncan was fairly captivated. But then she could not think of marry- ing a man of whose fortune she knew nothing, and whom, in despite of his new hat 'W spruce suit of ,black, she guessed -was not burdened with. wealth. She sought to draw him out; but such was his indifference to money, it seemed as if he pnust possess so much of it that he did not know its value in the eyes of most people; and when Miss Duncan became somewhat pressing on this head, he turned aside the- inquiry by thee pressure of her hand till she screamed for-pain: when the doctor, praying for pardon, begged to be trusted with, the pretty hand he hoped one day to call his own; and after some delay he never failed DOCTOR .T TOOGOOD WINS MSS DUNCAN. 421 to gain temporary possession of it, and, if circumstance s favored him, a ien upon the lady herself, Mrs. Duncan and sister and Mrs. Ross-had been duly, advised of all thisby disinterested lookers-on, and they aroused the attention of their husbands, so that the family were all on the look-out for coming events. It was assigned to Lucretia to save her aunt from an engagement with- out having secured herself the control of her property. If she pleased to marry President Toogood they were all well content, so she retained her property; and Lucretia was authorized to propose to her Aunt Ida, in case she- had any matrimonial plans in contemplation, to sell her entire property to Mr. Duncan for a life annuity, which would double her income and leave her property (real es- tate held in common) in the family. This annuity was to be determined by award of mutual friends. Miss Ida Duncan was delighted with this proposal, for it relieved her from the only objection she had to accepting the hand and heart of her ardent lover, Presi- dent Toogood. When the award was made, and the papers drawn and signed, Miss Dunrian, by consent of parties had the control of the best suite of rooms at Mr.- Duncan's in which to receive a call from the president. He was- too discerning not to see in all this that important events were impending; and he- sought, as best he could, to hasten them to a happy conclusion. As this couple sat together on a sofa, the president dwelt complacently and continuously :upon the nobility of his nature and the extent of his love: thus encouraged, Miss Duncan told him in soft tones how she had disposed of her fortune. page: 422-423[View Page 422-423] 422 MAPRRYING TOO LATE. It was a bitter pill I Happily there were no gas burners lit, dovers never care for lights!) and Miss Duncan could not see the sudden change that passed over his features. It was, however, momentary. The -president expressed his infinite pleasure, inasmuch as now his motives could not be distrusted: and so it was upon that evening de- cided, that Ida Duncan should within a month be hence- forth known as Mrs. Dr. Toogood. We have but little more to say about this lady. She found four grown-up, ill-mannered, uneducated girls await. ing her coming to the village of Pinebarrens, where the doctor preached on a salary of four hundred dollars to four hundred people. There was nobody to talk with, nobody to dress for, nobody to visit; and money could command nothing but ill-natured and envious remarks. As for the girls, they each thought they had as good right, and a great deal better right, to fine clothing than " mamma," and as for the president, he contrived to compel his beloved wife to pay over every dollar she received-; for, until she did so, his conduct was such as could never be revealed. Mrs. St. John, when her friend came on her visit to New York to see her, always reminded Ida, saying, "I told you so." One day she asked Ida how she came by such odd black and blue spots on her arms and shoulders? to which Ida only replied by tears. Thus it was this highly endowed lady, in the maturity of her years, reaped the harvest she had sown in youth, and found to her cost, there was one mistake greater than all others-that of marrying too late. OHAPTER XLV. T EE LAST, DAY8 O MA EDA THE -gay season had commenced for the gay world, and a dreary winter had set in upon Mr. Argyle. He succeeded in occupying his attention during the day with his business affairs; but when the day declined and he rode homewards, his heart sunk like leid within him. There was no more a beautiful wife waiting his coming, standing, as was Meda's custom, at her chamber window to tap on the pane to call his attentioto o her lovely self, attired for the dining-room: and who, while he was laying aside his cloak and cane, came flying down the staircase, an angel of light and loveliness, to welcome his return. Oh, no; nothing of all this now I alcom and Graeme were on the alert, to meet and receive his caress, and they had it; but no Meda more. His first act after having affectionately received his dogs, was to open the door of his grand saloon and gaze upon the portrait of Medas-" the Meda of London," as page: 424-425[View Page 424-425] 424 MRaYING TOO LATE, she came down the stairway at Mrs. D'Oyles, to make her entrance into the social life of England Closing the door, he sought his dining-room, to sit awhile, his eyes covered with his hands, and dream of Meda, her love and his cruelty.. It is not wonderful that -the exquisite arrangements of his table were unnoticed, and that no refinements of skill in his chef-de-cuisine could provoke his appetite. After dining, Mr. Argyle sought his chamber, and seated on what he now called "Meda's chair," would sit for hours, gazing upon "the Meda of Paris," and happy was he when, falling asleep, he dreamed of Meda alive and in his arms. It was on Christmas eve My. Argyle was thus seated in his chamber, spending his time dreaming of the past, when McOrie tapped for admittance. This interruption was unusual, and roused Mr. Argyle, who called out, "Come in." McCrie, entering, said, "Dr. Henderson has arrived, sir, to-day from England, and his man is below, awaiting your reply to this note." "Dr. Henderson I " cried Mr. Argyle, as he tore open the note, his mind rushing over the whole range of possi- bilities of what it might reveal. It was a simple note, saying he had arrived home on that day, and would be glad to see Mr. Argyle as early as would suit his con. venience. "Order the carriage, McCrie; I will go at once. Hasten, McCrie, for I am: impatient to be gone." On reaching Dr. Henderson's, Mr. Argyle was led into the doctor's library, wphere this venerable man received MEDA ON HER VOYAGE. 425 him, with a grave and mournful air. He requested Mr. Argyle to take a seat near the table at which he was sitting reading. "' It has been my sad lot, my dear Mr. Argyle," said the doctor, " to bring back with me the :remains of my dear daughter'from England. Her fond wish was to lie beside her mother in Greenwood Cemetery. This last expression of love it will be mine to fulfil on Wednesday next. But, sir, no sorrow of my own has delayed my seeking this interview, for which I have prepared you by my letters from Rome." "I have received no letters, doctor. Pray explain; what have you to tell me of my Meda, my wife, Meda?" "I have much to tell you which I cannot now recall, but you will be interested to learn that which came under my own observation, concerning your wife. "I was standing on the deck of the steamer, when Count Montaldi came on board attended by his servants, bearing his daughter, covered in her cloak and wrapped up in furs. I saw no more of your lady till we had been at sea two days, when the captain came to my state-room, and said, Count Montaldi had sent him to request me to see his daughter, who was sick. My sympathies were at once awakened, for I too had a sick daughter, to whom I was hastening to administer all the relief my skill and sciences could bring. I made myself ready and joined the cap- tain, who led me to Count Montaldi's state-room and pre- sented me. The count expressed his great satisfaction in finding me one of the passengers; he said Mrs. Argyle had been recently confined, and under the most painful cir- 8 - * ^\ page: 426-427[View Page 426-427] 426 MARRYING TOO LATE. cumstaLces; that he had felt it best to take her back to Italy for her health.- Instead of recovering at once on being at sea, your wife had been very sick-he thought it was sea-sickness, but it was now a matter beyond his skill, and he was glad to find me at hand. Deeply interested in all he said, I went with the count to her state-room. I had often seen Mrs. Argyle in New York, and had passed you both on your way to and from church, and always admired her grace and bearing; but all I ever saw was as nothing to her angelic beauty when I entered her state- room. I saw her eyes were lit up with the consuming flame of disease seated at the heart. There was a smile of sweetness and inexpressible sadness as she said, ' I hope, doctor, you do not come to oure me.' I told her I cer- tainly should do so if -it lay in any skill of mine. 'I know you will, doctor,' she replied, 'and I thank you.' I sat a long time watching her respiration, examining her pulse, and studying, as best I could, the diagnosis of her case. It was, indeed, a matter of doubt if she could reach England; so very weak and low she lay before me. Day by day:I did what I could for her comfort. It was, alas! little that could be done. She whispered to me one evening to send away her woman who was always present, and never left her for a moment. Elvira was as resolved - she should live as the count himself; as if their will could compel Omnipotence. PI requested Elvira to leave the state-room for a few- moments. When she was gone, your lady, taking a ring from her bosom, for her finger was too slender to keep it on, put it into my hand, and inm a whis- per Sid--' Give:this in person to my husband. Tell him MEDA'S LAST MESSAGES OF LOVE. 427 my last thoughts on earth -are his,' and here, sir, is the ring and the ribbon attached,; with which it was pinned to her dress inside her bosom. Mrs. Argyle had no time to say more, for Elvira returned." Mr. Argyle rose and took the ring. It was his wed- ding-ring. "Have you not something more to tell me?" said he, with heartfelt contrition expressed in his voice. "I shall gladly recall, hereafter, every word she said, but I will how only speak of my last interview. We were expecting to reach London next morning, and while all was bustle and preparation above and below, I sought to make her a visit. The count was sitting with-his daughter. It was about three in the afternoon. Mrs. Ar- gyle was lying, propped up by pillows, on a small sofa. She received me with her wonted smile, and an expression of overflowing love, which bathed her soul in heavenly light. After a few words in reply to my usual inquiries about herself, she said, ' My dear doctor, with my father's per- mission, I send by your hand, this necklace and cross, once my mother's, as my last gift to my sister, Mrs. Rachel Duncan. Tell dear Rachel to wear it in memory of my undying love;' and here, sir, is the little casket she took from under her pillow and handed me:" so saying, the doctor handed an enamelled gold box to-Mr. Argyle. "Mrs. Argyle then asked her father for his ring, which the count gave her. This she placed upon my third finger, to be worn in memory of her, and here it is, and here it will be worn while I have a breathing existence. Then she asked me to pray with her before I left. The count, who had thus far borne this leave-taking with his page: 428-429[View Page 428-429] 428 MARRYING TOO LATE. wonted gravity and imperturbability, now rose and left the state-room. It was a melting season to me, sir, and in my tears, but not, my grief, not my pangs-bitter pangs they were to me!--did this suffering saint sympathize. No, sir, she was too near heaven for sorrow to enter her soul. When all was over, and I was wiping away my tears, striving to recover my wonted composure, she sought to soothe me. I felt I must leave her. It was duty in me to go; but I longed to stay. Elvira entered, and hastened me to leave. Before letting go my hand she drew from her bosom a little book, which she held up to me to look at, saying, ' tell dear Janet this has been my daily food.' She then renewed her thanks for my poor services and my prayers, and offered me her lips to kiss. O, sir, that you could have separated yourself from such a wife!" Here Doctor Hendersonwfailed to go on; covering his eyes with his handkerchief, he wept. Mr. Argyle, unable to speak, placed the casket in his breast-pocket and hastened home, where he could in solitude indulge himself in all the luxury of woe. Mr. Argyle in after days, often tasked the patience of the pious doctor talking of Meda. The doctor had to tell him further, that while at Palermo he heard Count Mon- taldi had purchased a title of prince, and was living at Chairemonte. His son-in-law wishing to visit that part - of the island on a short journey, he ventured to give him a letter to the count, by whom he was received with cour- tesy. When he asked for his daughter and of her health, TH E END OF THE TALE. 429 the prince replied, his eyes glistening with emotion, "Excuse me! That is a forbidden topic here." His son was satis- fied by inquiries he made, that no- one knew of Medals existence. Dr. Henderson believed Meda's intuitions of her early death had been realized, soon after landing in England. A calm sorrow, a settled despondency, invested the soul of Mr. Argyle. He loved little Robbie Duncan because he had drank in life from the breast of Meda: he loved little Meda Montaldi Argyle Duncan, for she bore the name of all others to him most precious. These little ones became the idols of his affections, and every day they spent an hour or two with him, sharing with the portraits of Meda his hours of retirement, when he was refused to all. There was a wardrobe in the chamber of Mr. Argyle, which had remained unopened till after he had returned from Europe. It had been Meda's. The key was found by him, and on opening the doors, he saw Meda's dresses as they had been hung up by her own hand. This wardrobe became as sacred in his eyes as the ark of the Sanctuary. No one was ever permitted to see it opened, these children excepted. With them in his' arms, he would, at stated intervals, on days commemora- tive of his life with Meda, sit and gaze on these vest- ments, worn by one whom he loved to think of as now wearing the robes of immortality. Mr. Argyle sought to be useful, and he was useful. He sought to find his happiness in aiding those whose wants were within the reach of -his sympathy. His wealth, his talents, and his time were freely given wherever / . r page: 430-431[View Page 430-431] 430 MARRYING TOO LATE. they were required by the widow'and the orphan. It was by ceaseless activity he "sought for the solace of his own sorrows, and- became more and more lovable, as he loved more and more to forget himself in the labors of a philan- thropist. He had learned, too late, that to love wisely and well, is to follow the generous, and glowing inspirations of youth. NOTE TO CHAPTER XXXII.-p. 284. The formula is to be found in Denfs 1' Complete Body of Theology," adopted by the Roman Prelates of Ireland, at a Convocation held on "Sept., 1808, at which it was " unanimously agreed to be the best book on the subject that can be republished." The Roman Bishops at Dublin, on 25 February, 1810, passed a resolution-" that we do hereby confirm and declare our unaltered adherence, &c., to resolution of 14 Sept., 1818." The formula is on page 123 of Vol. VI. This book is the Maynooth Class Book, and when the grant to this Catholic College was under consideration, in the House of Lords, the tendehcy of such morals as taught in the section entitled "Tractate on Matri- mony," was brought before the Lords Temporal and Spiritual. There is no axiom more true than the one so triumphantly avowed by the Papal Church, "Rome never changes." The morals of Escobar, axd the other Casuists of the sixteenth century, are not only recognized a;d followed, but Michelet, the historian of France, says, "The manuscript books which form the course of a student of Theology contain matter the boldest have never dared publish." Chap, 2. "Priests, Women, and Families." He says, further-"No one can picture to himself the state of that young man placed designedly between'two unknown things, women and perdition, constrained to look into the abyss; giddy over those shameless books, with the temperament and warmth of youth." Michelet, Casuistry of the Jesuits. Chap. 38 Some years since, chapters of Den's Theology were translated by C. Sparry, and published, side by side, with the original, in order that the American public might see for themselves, what is the process of inquiry prosecuted by a, Catholic priest in the confessional. It was presented as an obscene book by a Grand Jury of one of the Counties of Pennsylvaniat . That fathers and mothers, Protestants in name' if not in profession, page: 432-433[View Page 432-433] 432 ' CX RYING TOO LATE. should send their children, their daughters especially, to Roman Catholic seminaries for their education, is proof of their utter igno- rance of all past and present history. To do so, is high treason to liberty; and ii may be the most deplorable sacrifice of the future of their sons and daughters. NOTE ON THE DANGERS OF FASTING.-p. 285. "Fasting in right good earnest is to punish the rebel flesh, and put down concupiscence. It varies with the temperament somewhat in the intensity of its effects; but continued fasting, with the set pur- pose of maceration, constantly produces the very results deprecated. With the body all the faculties of the mind are weakened-will, me- mory, and understanding. * * * In fact, fasting redoubled the'temp- tations of St. Jerome. He says of himself, in his epistle to Eustochium, a favorite virgin of his, 'I, who from fear of hell, had condemned myself to such a prison (before described by him as hateful as possible), and whose companions were only scorpions and wild beasts, yet, even then, I often thought myself surrounded by beautiful girls, charming me with ;their songs and dances. Whilst my face was pale with fast- ings, and my emaciated body was cold as a corpse, my soul yet burnt with desires, and boiled with the flames of lust." Ruffter, Vol. I. p. 235. Ignatius was tried; he had his temptations; the devil spoke to him internally--the speeches are recorded, but he triumphed. He had a rapture once of eight days' duration. Steinmetz, Vol I. pp. 217, 218. They thought him dead, and were about to bury him, when he opened his eyes and exclaimed, "Ah, Jesus!"The same happened to Duns Scotws, as is related by Lord Bacon. -'Life and Death.'" Ch. x. Sec 34. THE END. *f X \0
