The Mysterious Wanderer, Vol. I

severely for your conduct; but as it is, and in consideration of the punishment you have already endured, I shall suspend my lecture! Poor Ellenor! It is strange,

tions in my breast as I cannot attempt to describe. He was the exact resemblance of my Ellenor; his age too agre

refrain an impatient exclamation against the severity of his fate, in be

, all have an equal dispensation, and, sooner or later, feel the hand of adversity! As your morning of life has been clouded, you should, I think, look forward to a clear evening. You yet may find your Ellen

dolized, and a son whose endearments and attentions might have soothed the little sorrows of my bosom? But you

unacquainted with those anxieties which have rendered you unhappy; and if you will listen to

n bowed hi

old schoolfellow, and as great an oddity as himself, with whom he renewed his acquaintance; and an union was proposed between their children-agreed on, the writings drawn, and the wedding-day fixed, before the young people were acquainted with the least circumstance, or their sentiments respecting it, as

other his daughter had taken refuge with her, and, hoping by that time his resentment had subsided, had engaged her to attempt a reconciliation. The old gentleman appeared delighted; a messenger was dispatched for her, and, on her arrival, she was received with every demonstration of joy and affection! The calm,

. In less than a twelvemonth Mr. Holly died, leaving them eight thousand a year: Sir Horace survived his friend but a few weeks, and Sir Henry succeeded to nearly fifteen thousand a year more. Their decease, however, which a year

strain him from illicit connexions, and, whilst she was restricted with a parsimonious hand to her marriage settlement, she had the mortification of beholding immense proper

was delivered of a son, and in him (being deprived

an excursion with some friends, when I first became acquainted with his family; on his return, Lady Corbet presented me to him; he scarcely deigned a perceptible bow, but, throwing himself into a chair, called for his son, who was then about five years old, and, without once addressing me, amused himself in talking to, and answering his infantine questions. I regarded Lady Corbet with

ly?' 'None, sir,' answered Lady Corbet, attempting to speak with unconcern. 'If you have, you must write to-night; as I

cate; I, however, ventured to speak, though I could offer little consolation. It was then she acquainted me with the preceding p

d, I neither saw nor heard any thing of her till about a year and a half since; when, being in London, I one morning went to breakfast with Sir John Dursley, and was there surprised by the

from his son, who, as his years and sensibility increased, severely felt the estrangement, which produced an habitual melancholy. His amusements were disregarded; company became disagreeable; and the only pleasure or recrea

it, for the unhappiness he had occasioned her, he left her every part of his fortune, without restriction, exclusive of the family e

, and mysterious: his answers, when addressed, were incoherent, his dress disordered, and his whole appearance indicative of internal wretchedness. He avoided his mother and passed the greatest part of his time in the apartment where his father died, and where, at last, he totally secluded him

pursuit of him; but the only intelligence they could gain of him was from a peasant, who affirmed, that passing by the church early in the morning, he had seen Sir Henry ascend from the vault where the remains of the Corbet family were interred: that he was without his hat, held his handkerchief to

o be traced, and it was not till some time after, she received a letter from Lady Dursley, informing her of his having

he peace) entered the room, and informed Sir John, a party of dissolute young men, who, the night before, had committed several depredations, had been conveyed to the round-house, and were then waiting at the office. Two of the

o pity or feel indignant at their depravity. I was, however, recalled from my reflections by Sir John, earnestly inquiring the names of

t, it is Sir Henry Corbet!-For the respect I bear you

from the penetrating eyes of Sir John, who now p

he alarm had been given, they had discovered one of their fraternity on the ground; Sir Henry had then hold of his throat-another who had a bludgeon in his hand, with which it appeared

nd, St. Ledger, had wrested the bludgeon from one of the assailants, and at the moment the other watch came up, was assisting him to raise the man from the ground, for wh

ly acquainted Sir John, without exposing himself or friends

the constables could not prove the defence to be false, he, after reprimanding them for exposing themselves to s

than I had expected from his late spirited behaviour, apolog

London? Sir Henry's face became suffused with a blush of the deepest d

mother I sincerely respect, and as I honour myself with the title of her

ontinued with me, till Sir John had

is mother, I must, in justice, acknowledge I never met with his superior. His delivery was elegant, his judgment appeared solid, and his understanding highly c

had not mentioned the name of Lady Corbet; and now, without any previo

m in her arms; but springing on one side, he eluded her embrace, and murmuring some inarticulate sounds, attempted to rush out of the room. In this he was prevented by Sir John, who, catching him by the arm, said-'Not so fast, young gentleman. Your mother has suffered to

on his forehead, seemed for some moments to struggle with co

other!' replied Sir John, pointing to Lady Co

, by the tenderest appellations, endeavoured to recall her

show how little claim I had to your regard. The ties to a mother with you are now

he stopped, his lip trembled, and quitting her, he paced t

olation and support which, as a widow and a mother, I had a right to expect. How it has been rendered, I need not say. Si

h the duty he owed his mother, and to his own character, in the eyes of the world. The young gentleman listened to him some time in silence; a sigh only now and then swelled his bosom. At last, on Sir John urg

John. 'Whither t

his hand-. 'The w

, she again hastened to him, threw her arm round his neck, and, leaning her head on his shoulder, wept i

happiness. Of my wretchedness you have been a witness: of what I have suffered in my mind, you can form no idea! To me, the spot where my

aking his head at me, pointed his finger to his forehead, as im

with concern, beheld his dejection before he quitted the hall; but if any thing there had disgusted, or been the means of rendering him unhapp

his eyes fixed on the floor, deaf alike to the solicitations of his mother and the chidings of Sir John; nor

an her words: Sir Henry's was overspread with gloom; he scarcely spoke, but in the evening wrote a fare

father had chosen. I accordingly followed her to Wales, and sought the earliest opportunity to avow the state of my heart. She answered my declaration with a frankness which endeared her still more to me, though discouraging to my addresses. She never, she acknowledged, en

erceptibly worn away the reserve of our earlier acquaintance; and as I have purchased a considerable estate adjoining Sir Henry's, I have every opportunity of increasing the es

ill the arrival of some gypsies in those parts; with them he had several times been seen to converse, and, notwithstanding the vigilance of his mother, who, suspecti

ource, she determined on going to London to the young St. Ledger, who being the bosom friend of Sir Henry, she thought might perhaps be acquainted with his proceedings. As I was li

e for unhappiness than yourself. You still may indulge the hope of again seeing your Ellenor-a fatal certainty assures her, she is deprived of the man she loved for ever! You never knew your son; and though