Lucretia, Volume 1.

somewhat picturesquely grouped along an old-fashioned terrace which skirted the g

hn. On either side this tower extended long wings, the dark brickwork of which was relieved with noble stone casements and carved pediments; the high roof was partially concealed by a balustrade perforated not inelegantly into arabesque designs; and what architects call "the sky line" was broken with imposing effect by tall chimney-shafts of various form and fashion. These wings terminated in angular towers similar to the centre, though kept dul

inger, the ruffles at his wrist,-all bespoke the gallant who had chatted with Lord Chesterfield and supped with Mrs. Clive. On a table before him were placed two or three decanters of wine, the fruits of the season, an enamelled snuff-box in which was set the portrait of a female (perhaps the Chloe or Phyllis of his early love- ditties), a lighted taper, a small china jar containing tobacco, and three or four pipes of homely clay,-for cherry-sticks and meerschaums were not then in fashion, and Sir Miles St. John, once a gay and sparkling beau, now a popular country gentleman, great at county meetings and sheep-shearing festivals, had taken to smoking, as in harmony with his bucolic transformation. An old setter lay dozing at his feet; a small spaniel-old, too-was sauntering lazily in the immediate neighbourho

less dissipation, of strong appetite for fun and riot, of four-in-hand coachmanship, of prize- fighting, of a strange sort of barbarous manliness that strained every nerve of the constitution,-a race of life in which three fourths of the competitors died half-way in the hippodrome. What is now the Dandy was then the Buck; and something of the Buck, though subdued by a chaster taste than fell to the ordinary members of his class, was apparent in Mr. Vernon's costume as well as air. Intricate folds of muslin, arranged in prodigious bows and ends, formed the cravat, which Brummell had

olded, his eyes bent on the ground, his brows slightly contracted; his dress was a plain black surtout, and pantaloons of

that of his friends, to take some part in the subsequent events of the Revolution,-a part far from sincere, though so well had he simulated the patriot that he had won the personal favour and protection of Robespierre; nor till the fall of that virtuous exterminator had he withdrawn from the game of politics and effected in disguise his escape to England. As, whether from kindly or other motives, he had employed the power of his position in the esteem of Robespierre to save certain noble heads from the guillotine,-amongst others, the two brothers of the Marquis de G--, he was received with grateful welcome by his former patrons, who readily pardoned his career of Jacobinism from their belief in his excuses and their obligations to the services which that very career had enabled him to render to their kindred. Olivier Dalibard had accompanied the marquis and his family in one of the frequent visits they paid to Laughton; and wh

er his shoulder: it is his father's likeness,-a countenance in itself not very remarkable at the first glance, for the features were small; but when examined, it was one that most persons, women especially, would have pronounced handsome, and to which none could deny the higher praise of thought and intellect. A native of Provence, with some Italian blood in his veins,-for his grandfather, a merchant of Marseilles, had married into a Florentine family settled at Leghorn,-the dark complexion common with those in the South had been subdued, probably by the habits of the student, into a bronze and steadfast paleness which seemed almost fair by the contrast of the dark hair which he wore unpowdered, and the still darker brows which hung thick and prominent over clear gray eyes. Compared with the features, the skull was disproportionally large, both behind and before; and a physiognomist would have drawn conclusions more favourable to the power than the tenderness of the Provencal's character from the compact closeness of the lips and the breadth and massiveness of the iron jaw. But the son's sketch exaggerated every feature, and gave to the expression a malignant and terrible irony not now, at least, apparent in the quiet and meditative aspect. Gabriel himself, as be stood, would have been a more tempting study to many an artist. It is true that he was small for

iseless way over the smooth turf towards the tree. Its boughs drooped low and spread wide; and not till he was within a few paces

and features of manly, but surpassing beauty, which were not rendered less engaging by an expression of modest timidity. He seemed to be listening with thoughtful respect to his companion, a young female by his side, who was speaking to him with an earnestness visible in her gestures and her animated countenance. And though there was much to notice in the various p

of her face differed from that habi

irst to speak, I overstepped the modesty or the dissimulation of my sex; when I said, 'Forget that I am the reputed heiress of Laughton, see in me but the faults and merits of the human being, of the wild unregulated girl, see in me but Lucretia Claverin

med beneath her? Has he ever even consented to see, much less to receive, your half-sister, the child of that marriage? Is not his very affection for you interwoven with his pride in you, with his belief in your ambition? Has he not summoned your cousin, Mr. Vernon, for the obvious purpose of favouring a suit whi

at of yon indolent, luxurious coxcomb? Do you think that I could have been poor-hearted enough to love you if I had not recognized in you energies and

iles St. John see my future

ch longer life; he has already had severe attacks. We are young, dear Mainwaring: what is a year or two to those who hope?" Mainwaring's face fell, and a displeasing chill passed through his veins. Could this young creature, her u

embarrassment of reply

ered his arm to Lucretia as he spoke. She hesitated a moment, and then, turning to Mainwaring, held out her hand. He pressed it, though scarcely with a lover's warmth; and as she walked back to the terrace with Dalibard, the young man struck slowly into the opposite direction, and passing by a gate over a foo

nd alarm your pride. This young man,-can you be guilty of the folly of more than a passing caprice for his society, of m

etia, with calm haughtiness, "and you

I would have frittered away my life in these rustic shades,-if I had not formed in you a deep and absorbing interest? In that interest I ground my right to warn and counsel you. I saw, or fancied I saw, in you a mind congenial to my own; a mind above the frivolities of your sex,-a mind, in short, with the g

ommunicated I felt a charm that at times seems to me to be only fatal. You have confounded in my mind evil and good, or rather, you have left both good and e

listened to the pastora

? And for what? That

or this youth that you will sacrifice your fortunes, your ambition, the station you were born to fill and have been reared to improve

unworthy of me? Converse with him, and you will find that the noble form conceals as high a spirit. He wants but wealth: I can give it to him

I did not s

oes not desire to conquer exults in defeating the reasons that heart appears to her to prompt. "No," she said in a calm voice, to which the venom of secre

peated my offence? But," he added hurriedly, "in me,-much as you appear to despise me,-in me, at least,

ould be proud to give

iba

the taunt, "that if you had deigned to render me-poor exile that I am!

curiosity in her voice; "yet how, and by what art,-wise an

complicated history of actual life,-a brief enchantment, not to be disdained, but not to be considered the all-in all. Look round the world; contemplate all those who have married from passion: ten years afterwards, whither has the passion flown? With a few, indeed, where there is community of object and character, new excitements, new aims and hopes, spring up;

and if he does, I shall owe his hate to you,

ultivation force from the soil that which i

the weeds! I will

it. "I have warned you, and my task is done." With that he bowed, and leaving her, was soon by the side of Sir

les himself had been so wholly absorbed in the sensual gratification besto

Thus Sir Miles pronounced the word, according to the Euphuism of his

nsole us, we have most o

say the prince's set exh

of an earl and the constitution o

harley, you have neithe

y great distance, the Bench and-a consumption

the heart of a true gentleman. Come, come!" and the old man spoke with tenderness, "you are young

r Sir Miles, it is a wonder you did not add

onjoined estates of Vernon Grange and Laughton Hall. You must already have understood me: it is my intention to leave my estates to Lucretia; it is my wish, nevertheless, to think you will not be the worse for my will.

d from his indolent position and took the hand extended to him. "Believe me, I do not cove

n't suspect you of insincerity.

ase, he replied archly: "Perhaps, sir, it will be of little use to kno

! you are not jesting. What the deuc

?-do you not think that he is a very handsome young fellow?" said

eyes and noses of the two canine favourites dozing at his feet. The setter started up in an agony; the spaniel wheezed and sniffled and ran off, stopping every mo

notice the looks, good or bad, of Mr. Mainwaring? 'Sdeath, sir, he is the son of a land-agent! Sir, he

dkerchief, such portions of the prince's mixture as his nankeen inexpressibles had diverted

handsome flute-playing spark, with black eyes and white teeth; but Lucretia is not one of those; she has spirit and

t if so, Heaven help her intended! I am duly

he old gentleman cou

mind. She has seen her mother's fate; she has seen her sister an exile from my house. Why? For no fault of hers, poor thing, but because she is the child of disgrace, and the mother's sin is visited on her daughter's head. I am a

n, in personal advantages,-a man more of her own years, well educated, well mannered, with no evidence of his inferior birth in his appearance or his breeding. I have not the least ground for supposing that he has made the slightest impression on Miss Clavering, and if he has, it would be, perhaps, but a girl's innocent and thoughtless fancy, easily shaken off b

s right, at least, when I said you had the heart of a true gentleman.

ege, the F

is not blind; go

ne of the alleys that led to the other side of the house, and he was either too indifferent or too well-bred to force upon her the companionship which she so evidently shunned. He threw h

eam! On the other hand, if I do not win this girl, and my poor kinsman give her all, or nearly all, his possessions, Vernon Grange goes to the usurers, and the king will find a lodging for myself. What does it matter? I cannot live above two or three years at the most, and can only hope, therefore, that dear stout old Sir Miles may outlive me. At thirty-three I have worn out fortune and life; little pleasure could Laughton give me,-brief pain the Bench. 'Fore Gad, the philosophy of the thing is on the whole against sour looks and the noose!" Thus deciding in the progress of his revery, he smiled, and changed his position. The sun had set, the twilight was over, the moon rose in splendour from amidst a thick copse of mingled beech a

ll, that it is broken off with Mary. Why should there be any one

ded grass beneath his feet gave forth the fragrance of crushed thyme and clover; the swan paused, as if slumbering on the wave; the linnet and finch sang still from the neighbouring copses; and the heavy bees were winging their way home with a drowsy murmur. All around were images of that unspeakable peace which Nature whispers to those attuned to her music; all fitted to lull, but not to deject, the spirit,-images dear to the holiday of the world-worn man,

port, A

biting. A heavenly evening! I wonder you did not follow my example, and escape from a set where neither you nor I can feel very much at home, to this green banquet of Nat

Miles; proud he is, no doubt, but neither you

s them, and swears at them if they vex him. But with you and me and his French parasite, it is all stately decorum and punctilious courtesy: 'Mr. Mainwaring, I am delighted to see you;' 'Mr. Ardworth, as you are so near, dare I ask you to ring the bell?' 'Monsieur Dalibard, wi

; and, like all thieves

amed of

your elbow on, this soft moss for your cushion: sit down and confess. You have s

er I left college, my father, seeing me indisposed for the Church, to which he had always destined me in his own heart, and for which, indeed, he had gone out of his way to maintain me at the University, gave me the choice of his own business as a surveyor and land-agent, or of en

on, of gratifying your father's ambition and l

of that,

ergyman had

e was without an independence, and I not yet provided even with the substitute of money,-a profession. I fancied (do not laugh at my vanity) that my feelings might be returned. I was in alarm for her as well as myself; I sounded the clergyman as to the chance of obtaining the cons

run off with the girl, if she loved me, and old Plutus, the rasca

aken keen interest in politics; he was of the same party as Sir Miles, who, you know, is red-hot upon politics. I was easily led-part

ble one too! Why, man,

the London papers. Ho

think differently; but

ll

ago. He seemed cordially delighted to patronize the son; he invited me to visit him at Laughton, and hinted to my father that I was formed for something better

e primordium,-now come

to attract the notice of Miss Clavering. Do not fancy me so self- conc

cent creature, in her way, and I do not wonder that she drov

sore,-I am not sure

I may tr

romise to be rock against so great a temptation!"

serious,

hese, the devil's in it if I

cret trouble of my heart. This girl at Southampton is Lucretia's sister,-her ha

ust you have not deceived me; you have not amused yourself with breaking Susa

made so strong and cruel a distinction between Lucretia and Susan, I thought it not impossible that he might consent at last to my union with the niece he had refused to receive and acknowledge. But even while the hope was in

judge somewhat harshly of Mainwaring's disclosure, and not easily to comprehend what, after all, was very natural,-how a young man, new to life, timid by character, and of an extreme susceptibility to the fear of giving pain, had, in the surprise, the gratitude, the emotion, of an avowed attachment from a girl far above him in worldly position, been forced, by receiving, to seem, at least, to return her affection. And, indeed, t

be plain with you, I cannot say that your confession has improved you in my estimation; but that is perhaps because of the bluntness of my understanding. I could quite comprehend your forgetting Susan (and, after all, I am left in doubt as to the extent of her conquest over you) for the very

hen suddenly her mood changes,-she utters sentiments that chill and revolt me; the very beauty seems vanished from her face. I recall with a sigh the simple sweetness of Susan, and I feel as if I deceived both my mistress and myself. Perhaps, however, all the circumstances of this connection tend to increase my doubts. It is humiliating to me to know that I woo clandestinely

you permit me, I will take advantage of the strange chance of finding myself here, and watch, ponder, and counsel, if I can. This Lucretia, I own it, puzzles and perplexes me; but

use, Ardworth broke a silence w

sed him at once, when you spoke of your clergyman and hi

ather, I think also, with the wish to bring poor Susan nearer to Laughton, in t

ot only the little learning I have, but the little good that is left in me. I owe to him appa

o little of our family matters that I do not now understand how you are cousin to

er to explain than your

not yet sufficiently known to the reader, we must be pardoned if we assume

ith a disregard for money uncommon amongst the English aristocracy; so that the estate was but little enlarged since the reign of James, though profiting, of course, by improved cultivation and the different value of money. On the other hand, perhaps there were scarcely ten families in the country who could boast of a similar directness of descent on all sides from the proudest and noblest aristocracy of the soil; and Sir Miles St. John, by blood, was, almost at the distance of eight centuries, as pure a Norman as his ancestral William. His grandfather, nevertheless, had deviated from the usual disinterested practice of the family, and had married an heiress who brought the quarterings of Vernon to the crowded escutcheon, and with these quarterings an estate of some 4,000 pounds a year popularly known by the name of Vernon Grange. This rare occurrence did not add to the domestic happiness of the contracting parties, nor did it lead to the

her first husband a friend and neighbour of his own, a younger son, of unexceptionable birth and of very agreeable manners in society. But this gentleman contrived to render her life so miserable that, though he died fifteen months after their marriage, his widow could scarcely be expected to mourn long for him. A year after Mr. Clavering's death, Mrs. Clavering married again, under the mistaken notion that she had the right to choose for herself. She married Dr. Mivers, the provincial physician who had attended her husband in his last illness,-a gentleman by education, manners, and profession, but unhappily the son of a silk-mercer. Sir Miles never forgave this connection. By her first marriage, Sir Miles's sister had one daughter, Lucretia; by her second marriage, another daughter, named Susan. She survived somewhat more than a year the birth of the latter. On her death, Sir Miles formally (through his agent) applied to Dr. Mivers for his eldest niece, Lucretia Clavering, and the physician did not think himself justified in withholding from her the probable advantages of a transfer from his own roof to that of her wealthy uncle. He himself had been no worldly gainer by his connection; his practice had suffered materially from the sympathy which was felt by the county families for the supposed wrongs of Sir Miles St. John, who was personally not only popular, but esteemed, nor less so on account of his pride,-too dignified to refer even to his domestic annoyances, except to his most familiar associates; to them, indeed, Sir Miles had said, briefly, that he considered a physician who abused his entrance into a noble family by stealing into its alliance was a character in whose punishment all society had an interest. The words were repeated; they were thou

rgyman at last, moved and hopeful, approached and took his hand. It was the impulse of a good man and a good

n, "I thank you. I am not fit at this moment to decide what to do; to-

xcept one assurance, which I ventured to whisper to him,- -I trust not too rashly,-that

ties,-to the memory of a mother, to the sweet name of sister. He sought this girl, he told his tale, and pleaded the sister's cause. Lucretia heard in silence: neither eye nor lip betrayed emotion; but her colour went and came. This was the only sign that she was moved: moved, but how? Fielden's experience in the human hear

affection, your sisterly heart, your intercession with her natural protector;

, raised to the good man's face deep, penetra

my mother, who, the

"I never saw your mother, my dear; but your sist

compressed. "And her education

and Italian, and such like. Dr. Mivers was not unlearned in the polite letters. Oh, trust me, my dear young lady, she

ly on the ground; but she r

my uncle hi

e will decid

t the large embayed casement, which formed a niche in the landing-place, and gazed over the broad domains beyond;

had decided on his course. Her precocious and apparently intuitive knowledge of character detec

ook the priest's arm and walk

may call this pride or prejudice,-I view it differently. There are duties due from an individual, duties due from a nation, duties due from a family; as my ancestors thought, so think I. They left me the charge of their name, as the fief-rent by which I hold their lands. 'Sdeath, sir!-Pardon me the expletive; I was about to say that if I am now a childless old man, it is because I have myself known temptation and resisted. I loved, and denied myself what I believed my best chance of happiness, because the object of my attachment was not my equal. That was a bitter struggle,-I triumphed, and I rejoice at it

the matter in its true light. It was easy for him to move Sir Miles's heart,-that was ever gentle; that was moved already: but the crotchet in his head was impregnable. The more touchingly he painted poor Susan's unfriended youth, her sweet character, and promising virtues, the more Sir Miles St. John

reluctant arm, led him back towards the house. After a prolonged pause, Sir Miles said abruptly: "I have been thinking that I may have unwittingly injured this man,-this Mivers

al

that half of it I grant. Zooks, sir, I say I grant it! I beg you ten thousand pardons for my vehemence. To return,-perhaps I can show

y characteristic, benevolence, Fielden was some time before he answered. "Those members of Dr. Mivers's family wh

ing himself, he added, "or, if you think that advisabl

the which, I humbly conceive, is no sin to exclude them from gratitude for their proffered kindness, but because

. Fielden-you are married, sir? That is right; clergymen all marry!-if you and Mrs. Fielden would take charge of her yourselves, it would be a great comfort

; I must not let one poor youth lose

eed. One poor youth,-i

steem such vanities) of an ancient family,-a

dish name; Ardwo

udent marriage, contracted while he was only an

ference in race between the head of the Ardworths, if he were a duke, and my gar

ty of a soldier who has no resource but his pay. They have a son. Dr. Mivers, though so poor himself, took this boy, for he loved his s

tion to any one my intentions in this respect, not even to the lad. And now, Mr. Fielden, I have done my duty,-at least, I think so. The longer you honour my house, the

one word more. May not my poor Susan have

and struck his crutch-stick

e address of this letter, the poor girl is t

consented to give her the shelter of your own roof, I am sure I should not have seen a smile in the house for a month after. If you permit this plan, as inde

Miles, briefly; and so

young guest. She stayed there some days. She did not weep when she embraced Susan, she did not weep when she took leave of her; but she showed no want of actual kindness, though the kindness was formal and stately. On her return, Sir Miles forbore

ster like y

can have no recoll

a strong family l

ou; they say she i

baronet, and he

ew letters passed between them, but

tter owned that his pupil was not persevering enough for the Bar, nor steady enough for the Church. These were no great faults in Sir Miles's eyes. He resolved, after an effort, to judge himself of the capacities of the young man, and so came the invitation to Laughton. Ardworth was greatly surprised when Fielden communicated to him this invitation, for hitherto he had not conceived the slightest suspicion of his benefactor; he had rather, and natural

our account of the rearing and the character of the personage most important, perhaps, in the development of its events,-