"Why really, sir, you lay so sound, I didn't care to waken you; and I was up so late myself, too, last night."

"Leave me now; I'll ring when I want you."

"TO C. VIVIAN, ESQ.

"I would not see you, after what pa.s.sed yesterday, because I feared that I should not speak to you with temper. Lest you should misinterpret any thing I have formerly said, I must now solemnly a.s.sure you, that I never had the slightest suspicion of the secret you revealed to me till the moment when it was betrayed by your indiscretion. Still I can scarcely credit what appears to me so improbable; but, even under this uncertainty, I think it my duty to leave this family. Had the slightest idea of what you suggested ever crossed my imagination, I should then have acted as I do now. I say this, not to justify myself, but to convince you, that what I formerly hinted about reserve of manners and prudence was merely a _general reflection_.

"For my own part, I seem to act HEROICALLY; but I must disclaim that applause to which I am not ent.i.tled. All powerful as the temptation must appear to you, dangerous as it must have been, in other circ.u.mstances, to me, I cannot claim any merit for resisting its influence. My safety I owe neither to my own prudence or fort.i.tude. I must now, Vivian, impart to you a secret which you are at liberty to confide where and when you think necessary--my heart is, and has long been, engaged. Whilst you were attached to Miss Sidney, I endeavoured to subdue my love for her; and every symptom of it was, I hope and believe, suppressed. This declaration cannot now give you any pain; except so far as it may, perhaps, excite in your mind some remorse for having unwarrantably, unworthily, and weakly, suffered yourself to feel suspicions of a true friend. Well as I know the infirmity of your character, and willing as I have always been to make allowance for a fault which I thought time and experience would correct, I was not prepared for this last stroke; I never thought your weakness of mind would have shown itself in suspicion of your best, your long-tried friend.--But I am at last convinced that your mind is not strong enough for confidence and friendship. I pity, but I see that I can no longer serve; and I feel that I can no longer esteem you. Farewell! Vivian. May you find a friend, who will supply to you the place of H. RUSSELL."

Vivian knew Russell's character too well to flatter himself that the latter part of this letter was written in anger that would quickly subside; from the tone of the letter he felt that Russell was deeply offended. In the whole course of his life he had depended on Russell's friendship as a solid blessing, of which he could never be deprived by any change of circ.u.mstances--by any possible chance in human affairs; and now to have lost such a friend by his own folly, by his own weakness, was a misfortune of which he could hardly believe the reality.

At the same moment, too, he learned how n.o.bly Russell had behaved towards him, in the most trying situation in which the human heart can be placed. Russell's love for Selina Sidney, Vivian had never till this instant suspected. "What force, what command of mind!--What magnanimity!--What a generous friend he has ever been to me!--and I--"

Poor Vivian, always sinning and always penitent, was so much absorbed by sorrow for the loss of Russell's friendship, that he could not for some time think even of the interests of his love, or consider the advantage which he might derive from the absence of his rival, and from that rival's explicit declaration, that his affections were irrevocably engaged. By degrees these ideas rose clearly to Vivian's view; his hopes revived. Lady Julia would see the absolute impossibility of Russell's returning, or of his accepting her affection; her good sense, her pride, would in time subdue this hopeless pa.s.sion; and Vivian was generous enough, or sufficiently in love, to feel that the value of her heart would not be diminished, but rather increased in his opinion, by the sensibility she had shown to the talents and virtues of his friend. _His friend_, Vivian ventured now to call him; for with the hopes of love, the hopes of friendship rose.

"All may yet be well!" said he to himself. "Russell will forgive me when he hears how I was worked upon by those parasites and prudish busybodies, who infused their vile suspicions into my mind. Weak as it is, I never will allow that it is incapable of confidence or of friendship!--No! Russell will retract that harsh sentence. When he is happy, as I am sure I ardently hope he will be, in Selina's love, he will restore me to his favour. Without his friendship, I could not be satisfied with myself, or happy in the full accomplishment of all my other fondest hopes."

By the time that hope had thus revived and renovated our hero's soul; by the time that his views of things had totally changed, and that the colour of his future destiny had turned from black to white--from all gloom to all sunshine; the minute-hand of the clock had moved with unfeeling regularity, or, in plain unmeasured prose, it was now eleven o'clock, and three times Vivian had been warned that breakfast was ready. When he entered the room, the first thing he heard, as usual, was Miss Bateman's voice, who was declaiming upon some sentimental point, in all "the high sublime of deep absurd." Vivian, little interested in this display, and joining neither in the open flattery nor in the secret ridicule with which the gentlemen wits and amateurs listened to the Rosamunda, looked round for Lady Julia. "She breakfasts in her own room this morning," whispered Lord Glis...o...b..ry, before Vivian had even p.r.o.nounced her ladyship's name.

"So!" said Mr. Pickering, "we have lost Mr. Russell this morning!"

"Yes," said Lord Glis...o...b..ry, "he was forced to hurry away to the north, I find, to an old sick uncle."

"Lord Lidhurst, I'm afraid, will break his heart for want of him,"

cried the lawyer, in a tone that might either pa.s.s for earnest or irony, according to the fancy of the interpreter.

"Lord Lidhurst, did you say?"--cried the captain: "are you sure you meant Lord Lidhurst? I don't apprehend that a young n.o.bleman ever broke his heart after his tutor. But I was going to remark----"

What farther the captain was going to remark can never be known to the world; for Lord Glis...o...b..ry so startled him by the loud and rather angry tone in which he called for the cream, which _stood_ with the captain, that all his few ideas were put to flight. Mr. Pickering, who noticed Lord Glis...o...b..ry's displeasure, now resumed the conversation about Mr.

Russell in a new tone; and the lawyer and he joined in a eulogy upon that gentleman. Lord Glis...o...b..ry said not a word, but looked embarra.s.sed. Miss Strictland cleared her throat several times, and looked infinitely more rigid and mysterious than usual. Lady Glis...o...b..ry and Lady Sarah, ditto--ditto. Almost every body, except such visitors as were strangers at the castle, perceived that there was something extraordinary going on in the family; and the gloom and constraint spread so, that, towards the close of breakfast, nothing was uttered, by prudent people, but awkward sentences about the weather--the wind--and the likelihood of there being a mail from the continent. Still through all this, regardless and unknowing of it all, the Rosamunda talked on, happily abstracted, egotistically secured from the pains of sympathy or of curiosity by the all-sufficient power of vanity. Even her patron, Lord Glis...o...b..ry, was at last provoked and disgusted. He was heard, under his breath, to p.r.o.nounce a contemptuous _Pshaw!_ and, as he rose from the breakfast table he whispered to Vivian, "There's a woman, now, who thinks of nothing living but herself!--All talkee talkee!--I begin to be weary of her.----Gentlemen," continued his lordship, "I've letters to write this morning.----You'll ride--you'll walk--you're for the billiard-room, I suppose.----Mr. Vivian, I shall find you in my study, I hope, an hour hence; but first I have a little business to settle." With evident embarra.s.sment Lord Glis...o...b..ry retired. Lady Glis...o...b..ry, Lady Sarah, and Miss Strictland, each sighed; then, with looks of intelligence, rose and retired. The company separated soon afterwards; and went to ride, to walk, or to the billiard-room, and Vivian to the study, to wait there for Lord Glis...o...b..ry, and to meditate upon what might be the nature of his lordship's business. As Vivian crossed the gallery, the door of Lady Glis...o...b..ry's dressing-room opened, and was shut again instantaneously by Miss Strictland; but not before he saw Lady Julia kneeling at her father's feet, whilst Lady Glis...o...b..ry and Lady Sarah were standing like statues, on each side of his lordship.

Vivian waited a full hour afterwards in tedious suspense in the study.

At last he heard doors open and footsteps, and he judged that the family council had broken up; he laid down a book, of which he had read the same page over six times, without any one of the words it contained having conveyed a single idea to his mind. Lord Glis...o...b..ry came in, with papers and parchments in his hands.

"Mr. Vivian, I am afraid you have been waiting for me--have a thousand pardons to ask--I really could not come any sooner--I wished to speak to you--Won't you sit down?--We had better sit down quietly--there's no sort of hurry."

His lordship, however, seemed to be in great agitation-of spirits; and Vivian was convinced that his mind must be interested in an extraordinary manner, because he did not, as was his usual practice, digress to fifty impertinent episodes before he came to the point. He only blew his nose sundry times; and then at once said, "I wish to speak to you, Mr. Vivian, about the proposal you did me the honour to make for my daughter Julia. Difficulties have occurred on our side--very extraordinary difficulties--Julia, I understand, has hinted to you, sir, the nature of those difficulties.--Oh, Mr. Vivian," said Lord Glis...o...b..ry, suddenly quitting the constrained voice in which he spoke, and giving way to his natural feelings, "you are a man of honour and feeling, and a father may trust you!----Here's my girl--a charming girl she is; but knowing nothing of the world--self-willed, romantic, open-hearted, imprudent beyond conception; do not listen to any of the foolish things she says to you. You are a man of sense, you love her, and you are every way suited to her; it is the first wish of my heart--I tell you frankly--to see her your wife: then do not let her childish folly persuade you that her affections are engaged--don't listen to any such stuff. We all know what the first loves of a girl of sixteen must be--But it's our fault--my fault, my fault, since they will have it so.

I care not whose fault it is; but we have had very improper people about her--very!--very!--But all may be well yet, if you, sir, will be steady, and save her--save her from herself. I would farther suggest----"

Lord Glis...o...b..ry was going on, probably, to have weakened by amplification the effect of what he had said, when Lady Julia entered the room; and, advancing with dignified determination of manner, said, "I have your commands, father, that I should see Mr. Vivian again:--I obey."

"That is right--that is my darling Julia; I always knew she would justify my high opinion of her." Lord Glis...o...b..ry attempted to draw her towards him fondly; but, with an unaltered manner, that seemed as if she suppressed strong emotion, she answered, "I do not deserve your caresses, father; do not oppress me with praise that I cannot merit: I wish to speak to Mr. Vivian without control and without witness."

Lord Glis...o...b..ry rose; and growing red and almost inarticulate with anger, exclaimed, "Remember, Julia! remember, Lady Julia Lidhurst! that if you say what you said you would say, and what I said you should not say--I--Lord Glis...o...b..ry, your father--I, as well as all the rest of your family, utterly disclaim and cast you off for ever!--You'll be a thing without fortune--without friends--without a name--without a being in the world--Lady Julia Lidhurst!"

"I am well aware of that," replied Lady Julia, growing quite pale, yet without changing the determination of her countenance, or abating any thing from the dignity of her manner: "I am well aware, that on what I am about to do depends my having, or my ceasing from this moment to have, fortune, friends, and a father."

Lord Glis...o...b..ry stood still for a moment--fixed his eyes upon her as if he would have read her soul; but, without seeking to elude his inquiry, her countenance seemed to offer itself to his penetration.

"By Heaven, there is no understanding this girl!" cried his lordship.

"Mr. Vivian, I trust her to your honour--to your knowledge of the world--to your good sense;--in short, sir, to your love and constancy."

"And I, sir," said Lady Julia, turning to Vivian, after her father had left the room, and looking at Vivian so as to stop him short as he approached, and to disconcert him in the commencement of a pa.s.sionate speech; "and I, too, sir, trust to your honour, whilst I deprecate your love. Imprudent as I was in the first confidence I reposed in you, and much as I have suffered by your rashness, I now stand determined to reveal to you another yet more important, yet more humiliating secret--You owe me no grat.i.tude, sir!--I am compelled, by the circ.u.mstances in which I am placed, either to deceive or to trust you.

I must either become your wife, and deceive you most treacherously; or I must trust you entirely, and tell you why it would be shameful that I should become your wife--shameful to me and to you."

"To me!--Impossible!" cried Vivian, bursting into some pa.s.sionate expressions of love and admiration.

"Listen to me, sir; and do not make any of those rash professions, of which you will soon repent. You think you are speaking to the same Lady Julia you saw yesterday--No!--you are speaking to a very different person--a few hours have made a terrible change. You see before you, sir, one who has been, till this day, the darling and pride of her father; who has lived in the lap of luxury; who has been flattered, admired, by almost all who approached her; who had fortune, and rank, and fair prospects in life, and youth, and spirits, and all the pride of prosperity; who had, I believe, good dispositions, perhaps some talents, and, I may say, a generous heart; who might have been,--but that is all over--no matter what she might have been--she is

'A tale for ev'ry prating she.'

Fallen!--fallen! fallen under the feet of those who worshipped her!--fallen below the contempt of the contemptible!--Worse! worse!

fallen in her own opinion--never to rise again."

Lady Julia's voice failed, and she was forced to pause. She sunk upon a seat, and hid her face--for some moments she neither saw nor heard; but at last, raising her head, she perceived Vivian.

"You are in amazement, sir! and I see you pity me; but let me beg of you to restrain your feelings--my own are as much as I can bear. O that I could recall a few hours of my existence! But I have not yet been able to tell you what has pa.s.sed. My father, my friends, wish to conceal it from you: but, whatever I have done, however low I have sunk, I will not deceive, nor be an accomplice in deceit. From my own lips you shall hear all. This morning at daybreak, not being able to sleep, and having some suspicion that Mr. Russell would leave the castle, I rose, and whilst I was dressing, I heard the trampling of horses in the court. I looked out of my window, and saw Mr. Russell's man saddling his master's horse. I heard Mr. Russell, a moment afterwards, order the servant to take the horses to the great gate on the north road, and wait for him there, as he intended to walk through the park. I thought these were the last words I should ever hear him speak.--Love took possession of me--I stole softly down the little staircase that leads from my turret to one of the back doors, and got out of the castle, as I thought, un.o.bserved: I hurried on, and waited in the great oak wood, through which I knew Mr.

Russell would pa.s.s. When I saw him coming nearer and nearer to me, I would have given the world to have been in my own room again--I hid myself among the trees--yet, when he walked on in reverie without noticing me, taking me probably for one of the servants, I could not bear to think that this was the last moment I should ever see him, and I exclaimed--I know not what; but I know that at the sound of my voice Mr. Russell started, and never can I forget the look--Spare me the rest!--No!--I will not spare myself--I offered my heart, my hand,--and they were rejected!--In my madness I told him I regarded neither wealth, nor rank, nor friends, nor--That I would rather live with him in obscurity than be the greatest princess upon earth--I said this and more--and I was rejected--And even at this moment, instead of the vindictive pa.s.sions which are said to fill the soul of a woman scorned, I feel admiration for your n.o.ble friend: I have not done him justice; I cannot repeat his words, or describe his manner. He persuaded, by his eloquence compelled, me to return to this castle. He took from me all hope; he destroyed by one word all my illusions--he told me that he loves another. He has left me to despair, to disgrace; and yet I love, esteem, and admire him, above all human beings! Admire one who despises me!--Is it possible? I know not, but it is so--I have more to tell you, sir!--As I returned to the castle, I was watched by Miss Strictland. How she knew all that had pa.s.sed, I cannot divine; perhaps it was by means of some spy who followed me, and whom I did not perceive: for I neither saw nor heard any thing but my pa.s.sion. Miss Strictland communicated her discovery immediately to my father. I have been these last two hours before a family tribunal. My mother, with a coldness a thousand times worse than my poor father's rage, says, that I have only accomplished her prophecies; that she always knew and told my father that I should be a disgrace to my family. But no reproaches are equal to my own; I stand self-condemned. I feel like one awakened from a dream. A few words!--a single look from Mr. Russell!--how they have altered all my views, all my thoughts! Two hours' reflection--Two hours, did I say?--whole years--a whole existence--have pa.s.sed to me in the last two hours: I am a different creature. But it is too late--too late!--Self-esteem is gone!--happiness is over for me in this world."

"Happiness over for you!" exclaimed Vivian in a tone expressive of the deep interest he felt for her; "Self-esteem gone!--No! Lady Julia; do not blame yourself so severely for what has pa.s.sed! Blame the circ.u.mstances in which you have been placed; above all, blame me--blame my folly--my madness; your secret never would have been known, if I had not--"

"I thank you," interrupted Lady Julia, rising from her seat; "but no consolation can be of any avail. It neither consoles nor justifies me that others have been to blame."

"Permit me, at least," pursued Vivian, "to speak of my own sentiments for one moment. Permit me to say, Lady Julia, that the confidence with which you have just honoured me, instead of diminishing my attachment, has so raised my admiration for your candour and magnanimity, that no obstacles shall vanquish my constancy. I will wait respectfully, and, if I can, patiently, till time shall have effaced from your mind these painful impressions; I shall neither ask nor accept of the interference or influence of your father, nor of any of your friends; I shall rely solely on the operation of your own excellent understanding, and shall hope for my reward from your n.o.ble heart."

"You do not think it possible," said Lady Julia, looking at Vivian with dignified determination, "you do not think it possible, after all that has pa.s.sed, after all that I have told you, that I could so far degrade myself or you, as to entertain any thoughts of becoming your wife?

Farewell! Mr. Vivian.----You will not see me again. I shall obtain permission to retire, and live with a relation in a distant part of the country; where I shall no more be seen or heard of. My fortune will, I hope, be of use to my sister.----My poor father!--I pity him; he loves me: he loses his daughter for ever; worse than loses her! My mother, too--I pity her! for, though she does not love me, she will suffer for me; she will suffer more than my father, by the disgrace that would be brought upon my family, if ever the secret should be publicly known. My brother!--Oh, my beloved brother! he knows nothing yet of all this!--But why do I grieve you with my agony of mind? Forget that Lady Julia Lidhurst ever existed!--I wish you that happiness which I can never enjoy--I wish you may deserve and win a heart capable of feeling real love!--Adieu!"

CHAPTER XI.

Convinced that all farther pursuit of Lady Julia Lidhurst would be vain, that it could tend only to increase her difficulties and his mortification, Vivian saw that the best thing he could possibly do was to leave Glis...o...b..ry. Thus he should relieve the whole family from the embarra.s.sment of his presence; and, by immediate change of scene and of occupation, he had the best chance of recovering from his own disappointment. If Lady Julia was to quit the castle, he could have no inducement to stay; if her ladyship remained, his continuing in her society would be still more dangerous to his happiness. Besides, he felt offended with Lord Glis...o...b..ry, who evidently had wished to conceal from him the truth; and, without considering what was just or honourable, had endeavoured to secure, at all events, an establishment for his daughter, and a connexion for his family. To the weight of these reasons must be added a desire to see Mr. Russell, and to effect a reconciliation with him. The acc.u.mulated force of all these motives had power to overcome Vivian's habitual indecision: his servant was surprised by an order to have every thing ready for his journey to town immediately. Whilst his man prepared to obey, or at least to meditate upon the cause of this unusually decided order, our hero went in quest of Lord Glis...o...b..ry, to pay his compliments to his lordship previous to his departure. His lordship was in his daughter Julia's dressing-room, and could not be seen; but presently he came to Vivian in great hurry and distress of mind.

"A sad stroke upon us, Mr. Vivian!--a sad stroke upon us all--but most upon me; for she was the child of my expectations--I hear she has told you every thing--you, also, have been very ill-used--Never was astonishment equal to mine when I heard Miss Strictland's story. I need not caution you, Mr. Vivian, as to secrecy; you are a man of honour, and you see the peace of our whole family is at stake. The girl is going to a relation of ours in Devonshire.--Sha'n't stay here--sha'n't stay here--Disgrace to my family--She who was my pride--and, after all, says she will never marry.--Very well!--very well!--I shall never see her again, that I am determined upon.--I told her, that if she did not behave with common sense and propriety, in her last interview with you, I would give her up--and so I will, and so I do.--The whole is Lady Glis...o...b..ry's fault--she never managed her rightly when she was a child.

Oh! I should put you on your guard in one particular--Miss Bateman knows nothing of what has happened--I wish Miss Strictland knew as little--I hate her. What business had she to play the spy upon my daughter? She does well to be a prude, for she is as ugly as sin. But we are in her power. She is to go to-morrow with Julia to Devonshire. It will make a quarrel between me and Miss Bateman--no matter for that; for now, the sooner we get rid of that Rosamunda, too, the better--she talks me dead, and will let no one talk but herself. And, between you and me, all this could not have happened, if she had looked after her charge properly.--Not but what I think Miss Strictland was still less fit to guide a girl of Julia's genius and disposition. All was done wrong at first, and I always said so to Lady Glis...o...b..ry. But, if the secret can be kept--and _that_ depends on you, my dear friend--after six months' or a twelve-month's _rustication_ with our poor parson in the country, you will see how tamed and docile the girl will come back to us. This is my scheme; but n.o.body shall know my whole mind but you--I shall tell her I will never see her again; and that will pacify Lady Glis...o...b..ry, and frighten Julia into submission. She says she'll never marry.--Stuff!

Stuff!--You don't believe her!--What man who has seen any thing of the world ever believes such stuff?"

Vivian's servant came into the room to ask his master some question about horses.

"Going!--where? Going!--when? Going!--how?" cried Lord Glis...o...b..ry, as soon as the servant withdrew. "Surely, you are not going to leave us, Mr. Vivian?"

Vivian explained his reasons--Lord Glis...o...b..ry would not allow them any weight, entreated and insisted that he should stay at least a few days longer; for his going "just at this moment would seem quite like a break up in the family, and would be the most unfriendly and cruel thing imaginable." Why Lord Glis...o...b..ry so earnestly pressed his stay, perhaps even his lordship himself did not exactly know; for, with all the air of being a person of infinite address and depth of design, his lordship was in reality childishly inconsistent; what the French call _inconsequent_.

On any subject, great or small, where he once took it into his head, or, as he called it, _made it a point_, that a thing should be so or so, he was as peremptory, or, where he could not be peremptory, as anxious, as if it were a matter of life and death. In his views there was no perspective, no keeping--all objects appeared of equal magnitude; and even now, when it might be conceived that his whole mind was intent upon a great family misfortune, he, in the course of a few minutes, became as eager about a mere trifle as if he had nothing else in the world to think of. From the earnestness with which Lord Glis...o...b..ry urged him to stay a few days, at least one day longer, Vivian was induced to believe that it must be a matter of real consequence to his lordship--"And, in his present state of distress, I cannot refuse such a request," thought Vivian. He yielded, therefore, to these solicitations, and consented to stay a few days longer; though he knew the prolonging his visit would be, in every respect, disagreeable.

At dinner Lord Glis...o...b..ry announced to the company that the physician had advised change of air immediately for Lord Lidhurst; and that, in consequence, his son would set out early the next morning for Devonshire--that his daughter Julia wished to go with her brother, and that Miss Strictland would accompany them. Lord Glis...o...b..ry apologized for his daughter's absence, "preparations for her journey so suddenly decided upon," &c. Lady Glis...o...b..ry and Lady Sarah looked terribly grim whilst all this was saying; but the gravity and stiffness of their demeanour did not appear any thing extraordinary to the greater part of the company, who had no idea of what was going forward. The lawyer, the captain, and the chaplain, however, interchanged significant looks; and many times, during the course of the evening, they made attempts to draw out Vivian's thoughts, but they found him impenetrable. There was an underplot of a quarrel between Miss Strictland and Miss Bateman, to which Vivian paid little attention; nor was he affected, in the slightest degree, by the Rosamunda's declaration to Lord Glis...o...b..ry, that she must leave his family, since she found that Miss Strictland had a larger share than herself of his lordship's confidence, and was, for what reason she could not divine, to have the honour of accompanying Lady Julia into Devonshire. Vivian perceived these quarrels, and heard the frivolous conversation of the company at Glis...o...b..ry Castle without interest, and with a sort of astonishment at the small motives by which others were agitated, whilst his whole soul was engrossed by love and pity for Lady Julia. In vain he hoped for another opportunity of seeing and speaking to her. She never appeared. The next morning he rose at daybreak that he might have the chance of seeing her: he begged Miss Strictland to entreat her ladyship would allow him to say a few words before she set out; but Miss Strictland replied, that she was a.s.sured the request would be vain; and he thought he perceived that Miss Strictland, though she affected to lament Lady Julia's blindness to her own interests and contumacy, in opposing her father's wishes, was, in reality, glad that she persisted in her own determination. Lord Lidhurst, on account of the weak state of his health, was kept in ignorance of every thing that could agitate him; and, when Vivian took leave of him, the poor young man left many messages of kindness and grat.i.tude for Mr. Russell.

"I am sorry that he was obliged to leave me; for, ill or well, there is no human being, I will not except any one but my sister Julia, whom I should so much wish to have with me. Tell him so; and tell him--be sure you remember my very words, for perhaps I shall never see him again--tell him, that, living or dying, I shall feel grateful to him. He has given me tastes and principles very different from those I had when he came into this house. Even in sickness, I feel almost every hour the advantage of my present love for literature. If I should live and recover, I hope I shall do him some credit; and I trust my family will join in my grat.i.tude. Julia, my dear sister! why do you weep so bitterly?--If I had seen you come into the room, I would not have spoken of my health."