Modern Flirtations: A Novel

by Catherine Sinclair

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  Every man should be considered accountable to Providence, not only fordiffusing as much enjoyment around him as he possibly can, but also forbeing as happy himself as is consistent with the many gifts bestowed onhim individually; and it is a duty to look back with self-reproach onany hour of existence, which, on account of our ill temper ordiscontent, has been less enjoyed by ourselves or by another, than itmight have been; yet it is an obvious truth, that all men might behappier than they are, if mankind would but make the best of life forthemselves and others. Never had this remark appeared so undeniable toMarion as now, in the case of Agnes, who alienated Sir Patrick more andmore by her peevishness, though the arrows of her satire had morepoison than point in them, and he was always ready enough to enter on askirmish in the diamond-cut-diamond style of conversation, while itoften blistered the very heart of their gentle sister, to hear thebitter taunting remarks and repartees which they levelled at eachother.

  One day, Agnes, in a magnificent fit of ill-humor, had seated herselfat that universal refuge for idleness and discontent, an open window,complaining that the dulness of Edinburgh was quite maddening; while itbecame evident that the needle of her temper pointed in the most stormydirection. It was a favorite doctrine with Agnes, that _ennui_ ispeculiar to intellectual beings, and that those who never suffered fromit were like cows or sheep, scarcely to be considered rational. On thepresent occasion, therefore, she was relieving the intolerable tediumwhich oppressed her, by delivering her opinion to Sir Patrick, in nomeasured terms, on the unutterable cruelty of his leaving her strandedin Edinburgh, while she understood he was going soon to amuse himselfabroad.

  She seemed inflated with ill-humor, like a spider, bursting with itsown poison, and her countenance had assumed not the most amiableexpression in the world, while Sir Patrick snatched up a newspaper,which he began intently reading upside down. Having successfully anddistinctly proved that she was a martyr to the injuries which "patientmerit of th' unworthy takes," and her brother being apparently on thepoint of falling asleep before her face, Agnes suddenly rose from herseat, with an exclamation of annoyance and astonishment, saying,

  "I do believe here is that old formality, Sir Arthur, going to call!Getting slowly and with difficulty out of a ragged, ruinous-lookinghackney coach, as frail as himself! I had no idea he was become soaged and infirm! What a bore! I do wish we might enjoy the privilege,after being grown up, of choosing our own relations. _J'ai pitie demoi-meme!_"

  "What can bring the old fellow here?" exclaimed Sir Patrick, crumplingup his newspaper, and approaching the window with an angry whistle. "Helooks, in those glittering spectacles, like a post-chaise, with thelamps lighted. I must be grown quite respectable when the Admiralhonors me with a visit. Has anybody paid my debts?"

  "I declare," said Agnes, "Sir Arthur gropes his way along as if he camefrom the Blind Asylum, and his dear, puckered old face looks as dry andcracked as an old picture!"

  "Suppose I stay in the room _incog._, to hear all the civil andagreeable truths our worthy uncle will say of me," said Sir Patrick,laughingly throwing himself into a large arm-chair, in a distant cornerof the room. "I should certainty realize the old proverb aboutlisteners hearing no good of themselves. Sir Arthur is so blind he willnever see me, and it is certainly no bad joke for a rainy day."

  "I think it would be a very bad joke, indeed, Patrick," said Marion,coloring. "But I am sure you would not play upon our uncle'sinfirmities, and I shall certainly ask you some question the moment heenters, to betray your ambuscade."

  "Marion! for a young lady who professes timidity, you exhibit atolerable share of decision!" replied Sir Patrick, looking withsurprise at the glowing countenance of his sister, whose voice quiveredwith agitation. "However, since you are determined to make a scenebetween Sir Arthur and me, I shall be off, not feeling in the humor forone of his lectures to-day! He will be a whirlpool of rage at thisraffle I am making of the family plate and pictures. Perhaps he meansto take a ticket! Do not mention, for your lives, girls, that I am inthe next room, unless he be come on a matter of life and death! ExitSir Patrick in haste!"

  When Sir Arthur entered the room, there was a look of unwonted care inhis fine countenance, and less firmness in his step than usual. Hesilently but cordially shook hands with Agnes, while a look of almostcompassionate kindness beamed in his countenance, and Marion, withgirlish delight sparkling in her eyes, and dimpling in her cheeks, ledhim to a chair, on which he sat down for some moments without speaking,apparently fatigued and agitated, while she filled up the pause whichensued, by taking his hat and stick, placing her arm within his whenshe seated herself by his side, and showing a thousand demonstrationsof her heartfelt affection and respect.

  "Uncle Arthur!" said Agnes, observing him at length glancing round theroom. "You have never been in this house before?"

  "No! nor I never expected to enter it!" replied he, in a tone ofprofound sadness. "Never!--urgent duty brings me now! This then is thefamily residence to which the Dunbars of Dornington are at lastdegraded! Is your brother at home?"

  "No!" replied Agnes, with the most perfect intrepidity of countenance."You must have met him in the Park."

  "I did not perceive him, and it was as well," answered Sir Arthur withmelancholy sternness. "The seldomer we meet the better. It is adisgrace to be in the room with Sir Patrick."

  "Uncle Arthur! you are growing angry and personal," interrupted Marion,in a beseeching tone, while she shook his hand caressingly in her own."That is the harshest thing you ever said of our brother!"

  "May he never deserve more, or he shall have it," continued theAdmiral, with angry vehemence, while his neckcloth seemed growing tootight for him. "Sir Patrick is, without meaning to flatter him, aboutthe greatest scamp I know. His last step in the regiment was purchased,I am told, over the head of a young officer from whom he gained themoney at play! but, Marion, my dear girl, I am not come to quarrel withyou, the dearest niece in the world--nor with Agnes, though I couldwish that she came sometimes to see me."

  Sir Arthur held out his hand to both his nieces, and added, in a toneof hurried agitation, "If you had witnessed, Agnes, the many long yearsduring which your father and I associated together on terms of morethan brotherly confidence, you could not wonder that now, living in anempty world, the grave of all who started in life beside me, amidst oldremembrances, vanished pleasures, faded health, and lost affections, Icling to whatever reminds me of him, and that nothing can make me ceaseto love you all--all without exception--even that disgraceful scoundrelyour brother. I would close these eyes in death, only once to see him,the man his father's son should be; but I might live for ever if I waittill then!"

  Marion was grieved and alarmed to perceive her uncle's increasingagitation, while he hastily turned away to hide it, but the breezewhich had ruffled his mind soon passed away, and though his hand stillshook with emotion, he added in a calmer tone of deep-rooted anxiety,

  "I have been told this morning, that Sir Patrick intends to cut hisstick, and take flight immediately to the continent, therefore I amhere to ascertain, my dear girls, what is to become of you?"

  "I scarcely know indeed!" replied Marion, in a tone of irresistibledepression. "Patrick seems to have no settled plan. He did talk ofhiring a lodging for us, and engaging some old lady for a chaperon."

  "And for such a scheme, my dear Marion, where in all the wide world ishe to get money--or even credit? Not in the name of Sir PatrickDunbar!--a name that, in my brother's time, stood proudly forward as awarrant for everything honorable, soldier-like and generous!--a name,till now, never sullied by dishonor."

  Sir Arthur's voice faltered, a hectic color burned on his cheek, heremained silent for several minutes, and then continued, after a strongeffort to recover himself,

  "It is no matter! Patrick adds a nail to my coffin every day, but I amthe last wreck of an old generation, and have already outstaid theperiod intended for man! My head is whitened by the frost of more thaneighty w
inters--my heart seared with the wear and tear of life--my veryexistence a perpetual miracle! It would people a city if all could berevived whom I have intimately known in those days when the dearestties of life were clustered around me, but now I am a scathed andsolitary ruin. How truly has it been said, that the remembrance ofyouth is a sigh, yet all has been ordered as it should be, and thatwind is ever the best which will carry us most safely to the end of ourvoyage."

  Sir Arthur paused with a look of solemn and inexpressible emotion, andMarion pressed her uncle's hand affectionately, hot tears coursed eachother down her face, and she gazed earnestly at his countenance, while,looking at her with his usual expression of benignity and kindness, hecontinued, "You are the chief, or rather the only objects of my care,for all my wishes and hopes on my own account might now be contained ina nut-shell. I am a stranger in this altered world, soon--very soon todepart. There is one heart in my brother's family, Marion, that feelsas his child ought to feel, and one eye that will be dimmed with sorrowwhen I am no more. For your sake, and yours only, need I wish to live!Well may the young weep for sorrow--they have long to endure it, butfor me, the end of all earthly things is at hand. Many a warning bellhas reached my ear already, and I would wish only to see you launchedunder safe protection in the stormy ocean of life. With no guardian buta brother worse than nobody, and an old, infirm uncle tottering intothe grave, my dear girls, what are you to do?"

  Marion glanced at Agnes, who tried to preserve her usual air ofconsequential indifference, and pulled her _bouquet_ to pieces, withan expression of silent and majestic impatience, but she neither lookedup nor answered.

  "While I live, you can always confer a pleasure by taking shelter withme," continued Sir Arthur, in the warmest tone of kindness; "and allthat an old man can do to make you happy shall be done, though that, Ifear, is little or nothing."

  Agnes, evidently not much delighted at this unexpected proposal ofbeing located at what she always called "the Admiral's humdrummery,"now assumed a pre-engaged look, while practising a particularlygraceful attitude in the opposite mirror, and drawing out her longglossy ringlets with a cold, artificial smile, she answered, "Thankyou, Sir Arthur! I am sure we are most excessively obliged. Probablynow that Marion is so well disposed of, my brother may take me with himto Paris!"

  "Reckoning without your host, Agnes!" whispered Sir Patrick, enteringwith a look of assumed bravado, but of evident embarrassment. "Wishescost nothing; but how could such an idea ever enter your ingenioushead? Pray strike a light and look for your senses! Ah! Sir Arthur! Ahundred thousand welcomes. I am happy not to have missed your kindvisit!"

  "That would have been a mutual misfortune!" replied the Admiral, drily,and drawing himself up to his full height, while Sir Patrick bowed andsmiled with an air of sarcastic gratitude. "Certainly, for some yearspast I am not owing you many visits."

  "Why, no! I hate to see people running themselves into debt; thereforebelieving you might find it inconvenient to return my cards, I have notbeen very troublesome in the way of calling; but," continued SirPatrick, stealing a look of laughing condolence at Agnes, "my sistersare exceedingly delighted by your very considerate offer of a homeduring my absence. The plan will suit admirably! They both wantsea-bathing, and--society, Agnes?"

  "In respect to society I can promise nothing. I would raise a regimentof beaux if possible, but my house is a mere Greenwich Hospital foryears past, visited only by a few veterans as aged and broken asmyself."

  "I wish they had all gone down in the Royal George," muttered Agnes,whose face now looked like a thunder cloud. "A set of resuscitatedmummies, with scarcely a complete set of limbs and features amongstthem. I would rather live in the moon, where there is at least oneentire man to be seen."

  "We instituted a club lately," continued Sir Arthur, "in which nomember was eligible who had not been deprived of one limb at least inthe service of his country. With many of my friends all is lost buthonor! That is what a man should die rather than lose! It was long ahereditary heir-loom in our family, Patrick! entailed upon you, Sir!handed down untarnished from father to son, generation aftergeneration! And where is it now? Lost in the kennel, the race-course,the stable, the gambling house, and every receptacle of infamy andshame, while I live to see the Dunbars of Dornington utterly ruined,as well as utterly disgraced!"

  "Not as long as you live!" exclaimed Sir Patrick, advancing with suddenemotion, and grasping his uncle's hand. "Your name, Sir Arthur, willshed a lustre over our house after mine has been blotted out for everfrom the memory of man!"

  "Why should it be so?" asked Sir Arthur, speaking in a tone of deepvehemence and solemnity, while his noble and serious countenanceassumed an expression of that affection which nothing could extinguish."Patrick! it is long lane that has no turning! Be like your father inmind, as you are in person, and let me leave you my best blessing atlast!"

  "Too late! too late!" replied Sir Patrick, walking hurriedly up anddown the room, and then suddenly resuming his usual tone of recklessgayety. "No! no! as Joseph Surface remarked, 'too good a character isinconvenient!' You are unadultered gold, Sir Arthur, but I must onlyset up for being a genuine Bristol farthing."

  "Yet, Patrick! even if honor were like truth, at the bottom of a well,it is worth diving for; and the best throw on the dice is to throw themaway."

  "Your whole nature and mine are different, Sir Arthur! A wasp may workhis heart out, but he never can make honey," replied the young Baronet,hurriedly. "I have neither wishes, plans, nor hopes for myself! AlreadyI am older in heart than you, and neither know nor care how short atime I have to exist! _N'importe!_ It would not certainly be convenientfor me at present to fly off like a kite, with both my sisters at mytail, therefore we are all most grateful for your kind invitation tothem, and shall accept the honor you offer with pleasure."

  "Be it so then," replied Sir Arthur, in a calm, dignified, but mournfulvoice. "If my nieces will be content with little, they may be as happyas if we had much. I am most anxious to invent anything which might addto their enjoyment, and Lady Towercliffe tells me, Agnes, that yourwhole heart is bent on spending a month at Harrowgate! If that wouldreally be any pleasure or advantage to you, tell me so, and I shallendeavor if possible to go there myself, though now, in my old age,very like Punch, who could act only in his own box."

  "Oh! not for worlds would we ask you to go, dear uncle," exclaimedMarion, venturing in her eagerness to speak before Agnes, and shockedat the idea of a journey, the fatigue and expense of which she knew theAdmiral was so little able to incur. "We shall be more than happy athome! do not think of such a thing!"

  "But if I may be permitted to have an opinion, being the personconsulted, Marion, let me say that nothing on earth was ever moreenchanting than this delicious proposal. You have made me the happiestperson alive, Sir Arthur!" exclaimed Agnes, for once condescending tolook perfectly pleased. "I must endeavor not to go mad with joy! Youare our very best friend! My dear uncle, all I can say is, YOU ARE AGENTLEMAN!"

  "Well, Agnes! That being the case," replied Sir Arthur, smiling, "howsoon can you be ready to start?"

  "To-night!--this minute!--wait till I put on my bonnet!" exclaimedAgnes, in accents of the liveliest glee. "I am quite impatient to setabout forgetting Edinburgh!"

  "Well done, Lady Towercliffe! Harrowgate was a capital hit!" cried SirPatrick, laughing satirically. "Before taking a voyage to India, thereis no place like it for young ladies! Why, Agnes, it is a perfectemporium of _beaux_! You will live there at the rate of twenty newvictims a-day! A down-pour of marriages takes place at the end of everyseason. Several jewellers have made large fortunes at Harrowgate,merely by providing wedding rings! and a confectioner is kept at eachhotel, with nothing else to do but to make marriage cakes! Sir Arthurmust take a dozen lessons in match-making, from some of the manoeuvringmammas and aunts."

  "An unmanoeuvring uncle is all we shall require," answered Agnes,looking daggers at Sir Patrick, in all the dignity of having beenextremely ill-treated. "In my
humble opinion----"

  "Humble, Agnes!" interrupted Sir Patrick. "Did I hear aright? Where didyou ever learn the meaning of that word?"

  "As for manoeuvring or match-making, I leave all that sort of thingto such persons as Lady Towercliffe," observed Sir Arthur. "She andother old ladies have such an intense curiosity about weddings, that Ido think, even when laid in their graves, they would like to be toldwho are going to be married. In such affairs I would be out of myelement, like a bear in a boat, not knowing how to proceed,--but at myage----"

  "Your age, uncle Arthur! You are no age at all," interrupted Agnes,in high good humor. "You are not a day older since we were firstacquainted! As Harrowgate is the greatest marriage manufactory inBritain, I should not wonder if you were to pick up a wife thereyourself! Indeed, no single man ever escapes, and I shall make it mybusiness to get you off!"

  "By all means!" replied the Admiral, entering good-humoredly into thejest. "I have no doubt some young lady will fall desperately andhopelessly in love with me! Are those new spectacles becomingly put on?My eyes are so fine, they must be kept under glass! My hair has hadrather too much of the bleaching liquid lately, but do you recommend awig, Agnes, or the vegetable dye?"

  "I would not alter a hair of your head, uncle Arthur," said Marion,smiling. "And I am sure you will have more admirers at Harrowgate thanany of us. I should like to know," added she, after the Admiral haddeparted, "out of the prodigious incomes enjoyed by thousands ofpersons in Britain, how much is spent during the year in reallygenerous actions,--in actions of such disinterested liberality as ourdear kind uncle's, when putting himself to all this expense andinconvenience for our sakes,--for ours, who never can make him thesmallest return."

  "To say the truth," replied Agnes, laughing, "I merely go to Harrowgatefor Sir Arthur's good. It will renew his youth to be forced into balls,beguiled into pic-nics, and enlisted into dinner parties. A diet of iceand lemonade is excellent for old people."

  "You are lucky girls!" exclaimed Sir Patrick. "A month at Harrowgate!why! you might be married five times over in that time! It is not themost impossible thing in the world that I may come there myself, tomeet De Crespigny! The matrimonial horizon looked rather dark andunpromising in this quarter, Agnes; but your extraordinary merit isquite unknown as yet in the English hemisphere. The world shall seeyou, and you shall see the world now, under Sir Arthur's auspices. Goodworthy old soul! his very walking-stick is respectable!"

  "Then I wish you were like it," said Agnes, in her most stingingaccent. "Sir Arthur's respectability might be divided among a dozen ofpeople whom I know, and each would get a share larger than he hadbefore."

  "You will perfectly canonize him, now that he can be made useful!Agnes! you jumped at Sir Arthur's offer as an ex-minister would jump ata seat in the cabinet! You showered down thanks on the Admiral'sdevoted head, like _bon-bons_ at the carnival!"

  "No wonder!" said Marion. "Think of dear uncle Arthur leaving his oldfriends, his old habits, and his old home for us, when he has said andthought so often, that his next journey would be that long and lastone, which we must all travel, never to return."

  "It is vastly kind, as you say, Marion!" added Agnes, flippantly."Leaving that old fireside, where he has so long been spinninginterminable yarns, spoiling old servants, reading old magazines,dozing over antiquated newspapers, letting himself be cheated bybeggars, and getting convivial over very weak negus."

  "Agnes, how long is it since you lost your senses!" asked Marion,indignantly. "Nothing short of that could account for your holding upour venerable uncle to ridicule, even with no one to hear you butourselves, who know his inestimable worth and kindness."

  "Well, girls, the best reward you can give him, is to look delightfullywith all your might, and to waltz and quadrille yourselves intohusbands immediately!" said Sir Patrick, in a tone of livelyexultation. "Now, tighten the drums of your ears and listen, for I amabout to give you a popular course of lectures on the important subjectof match-making. Marion, you are a flower that has bloomed in theshade, and must now be displayed in the sunshine; therefore you oughtto know that fortune is like a game at blind man's buff, where thetimid and retiring are forgotten, while the bold and forward alone putthemselves in the way of receiving her favors. Agnes has frittered awayher time only too long already on the mere minnows of society, danglersand detrimentals of the younger species; but I must tell youplainly,----"

  "Never tell me anything plainly," interrupted Agnes, laughing. "But youare altogether mistaken, for I have often wished that people would getrid of their younger sons now, as Tom Thumb's father wisely did, losingthem in a forest and leaving them to starve."

  "Then take my advice, and never dance with any. I warn you againstfashionable huzzars, all spurs and gold lace, with more bullion ontheir jackets than in their purses; _attaches_ who are not to beattached, ready to fall into flirtations but not into love; HonorableEdwards and Honorable Fredricks, who never are, but always to be rich,investing their whole fortunes in white kid gloves, and offering,perhaps, to share their starvation with you; and," added Sir Patrick,with a glance at Marion, who blushed deeply, but said nothing,"remember, above all, I forbid reverend divines, young or old,especially those who have no living and no prospect of a mitre. Youshould each knock down a coronet for yourselves, and avoid the mostdetestable of all poverty,--genteel poverty; at the same time, do notgamble too deeply in life. Ascertain well, '_sur quel pied a danser_.'In a sickly season, even a fifth son is not to be despised. Take asmaller certainty rather than a greater possibility, and lose no time,or the bridge may break down before you run across it."

  "Your advice to me is perfectly superfluous," replied Agnes, lookingvery superb, and giving a contemptuous toss of her head. "I detesteconomy, and abjure all penny weddings, having no genius for turning ordying silk dresses,--putting servants on scanty allowance,--drivingabout in hackney coaches,--locking up jellies,--counting out eggs,--ormeasuring small beer! I am sworn at Highgate always to prefer the bestpartners, and generally have them."

  "How would you like," said Marion, "to have been the young lady longago in London, who could not dance with the King of Prussia, because shewas previously engaged to the Emperor of Russia?"

  "That would suit me exactly. I should like to carry my head as high asthe Pope's tiara. But I have reason, as you know, to expect hereafterone of the proudest coronets in Britain; and shall certainly not remaina day longer than I can help dependent, Patrick, on the most singularlygenerous, liberal, and considerate of brothers,--with the one onlyfault of caring for nobody but himself. If I were drowning, you wouldscarcely stretch out your little finger to save me, in case it mightbecome wet."

  "Quite right, Agnes, not to depend on me, or you would have little todepend upon. My pockets are to let unfurnished now! I shall perhaps goto Australia,--or probably measure the depth of the Serpentine someevening; though, in the mean while, I may put up with life a littlelonger, bad as it is. Now, therefore, Agnes, hear my last advice. Youhave the world upon a string, and shall see a large assortment ofadmirers to choose among. When torrents of proposals are pouring inupon you, as they will and must do soon, get safely into the haven ofmatrimony, or you will be shipwrecked for ever. Accomplished misses arequite a drug in the market now; but you ought to be ashamed, Agnes, ofmissing that little pigmy peer, Lord Bowater, two years ago, when youhad three days the start of every other young lady in making theacquaintance. He treated you shockingly, to fall in love at first sightwith that paltry Miss Gordon. As for any other coronet you are everlikely to wear, I know of none that even a telescope could give you themost distant prospect of. Now wait till I am out of the room before youfaint!"

  "Marion!" said Agnes, yawning outrageously when her brother haddeparted, and looking unspeakably forlorn, "How often I have laughedready to die, at the case of other girls, without ever dreaming itcould in any degree resemble my own! Every year that worthy, old,respectable Lord Towercliffe, as fond of home as uncle Arthur or anygarden snail, suddenly
breaks up his comfortable establishment in thecountry, and comes to town with the declared intention of givingCharlotte and Maria 'proper advantages!' The poor girls, then, seetheir father obliged to undergo the wretchedness of frequenting a club,to form suitable acquaintances, and suffering hourly martyrdom in beingabsent from his farm, his stud, his improvements, and all thatinterests him in life, while our active, energetic friend, LadyTowercliffe, plunged into a wilderness of blond and feathers, rusheseagerly from house to house, followed by her flock of disposabledaughters, whom she is perpetually puffing off, like Robins theauctioneer. Then follow dinner parties, given at an expense which theyoung ladies know to be ruinous, balls, soirees, flirtations,disappointments, and at last the family coach trundling slowly back ata funeral pace to St. Abbsbury, where the lodge-keeper despondinglycounts heads as they pass, to see whether their numbers continue stillundiminished! It is altogether horrid, and perfectly laughable, too!"

  "Not very laughable!" said Marion, coloring; "whether Lord Towercliffetakes the affair good-humoredly or otherwise, it must be most degradingand humiliating for the young ladies. I can fancy nothing more odious!"

  "A grand skirmish ending in defeat!" added Agnes, ironically. "Iremember formerly, when these Malcolm girls were in their school-room,the chief bugbear hung over them, if they neglected the arts of dressand fascination, was, that they would inevitably die old maids. Theywere educated for the profession of matrimony, and were each taught toexpect a husband of rank and fortune, at the very least, equal to theirfather's."

  "Yes," said Marion, "Lady Towercliffe would consider any one of hervery plain daughters as perfectly disgraced, either to marry in a gradethe least degree below her own, or not to marry at all, therefore theyare allowed no alternative. The position of young ladies during thepresent time seems far from enviable. In these days of clubs,money-making, and old bachelorism, not a third of those who grow up nowwill be married at all, and perhaps not a third of those who do marrywill be happy! It seems to me strange and unaccountable that parentswho have any consideration for the happiness of their daughters,inculcate no ideas into their minds and hearts unconnected withmatrimony, and, like Lady Towercliffe, drive them forward to the publicview, a mark for censure, gossip, and ridicule, till they find shelterin some other home, where it is five to one that they will bemiserable."

  "Yes, miserable indeed," added Agnes, indolently, "men are all soselfish. Husbands expect the whole time, thoughts, and affections oftheir wives in return for the very little they choose to spare fromtheir horses, dogs, and clubs. On these their whole income is to besquandered, while they keep to that favorite rule--'What is yours ismine, and what is mine is my own.' The ladies must be invariably ingood humor and lively spirits at home, perfectly well dressed, with acheerful fireside, and a luxurious table; but, at the same time, we arenever to ask for money or to have any bills! our servants are all to befirst-rate on the very lowest wages, and our children in the best orderwithout ever being punished or thwarted!--a fairy's wand could not dothe half of it."

  "I am often amused now," said Marion, "to hear people say of thedullest and most unprepossessing old bachelor in the world, 'I wonderhe never takes it into his head to marry!' while they observe, indiscussing any girl more beautiful and fascinating than another, 'Howvery surprising that she has never got married!' when, at the sametime, there is not perhaps a single year of her life since she was bornthat she might not have been established if she chose. I believe thatthe vulgar consideration of money makes all the difference; for ifladies had the fortunes, instead of gentlemen, they would be quite asuncertain and capricious, off and on, about marrying or not marrying,as--as even Captain De Crespigny!"

  "One of the last times he called here," said Agnes, "when lamenting, ashe often does, his unmarriageable state of poverty at present, CaptainDe Crespigny said, in his droll way, that he would some day bring abill into Parliament, ordaining that every old bachelor who couldmaintain a wife for himself and will not, shall be obliged to supportone for somebody else, who wishes to marry and cannot afford. Now,Marion, let us put all our Harrowgate irons in the fire, and prepare tobe admired by all admirers next week at the Granby!"

  "You know, Agnes, though I do not tease you or Patrick by oftenalluding to what you call my sentimental vagaries, that there is onlyone person in the world by whom I have any ambition to be admired;though our engagement must be postponed, till Richard is incircumstances to marry with prudence. Without reference to that,however, in respect to Harrowgate society, it is said to be more like alow farce than a genteel comedy!"

  "A little of both! but we shall be in the best set. I hope Sir Arthurwill not be teasing us with any of his world-before-the-flood ideas,about late hours, waltzing, and all the other enormities of fashionablelife! It is my duty, really, to give him a few presentable ideas now,for he lived in the dark ages, when old Queen Charlotte used to keepthe ladies all so preternaturally precise and decorous. Most of theAdmiral's notions he had from his mother, who lived, I believe, withQueen Elizabeth!"

  "But Agnes! even the prejudices of our uncle should be attended to. Heshows us greater kindness than we ever have known, or can know from anybody else, and the whole wealth of his affection is devoted to us."

  "Well, then! I wish his love could be turned into money! I often thinkif our skins were made of gold, that Patrick would flay us alive! Ofcourse I shall not fly in Sir Arthur's face upon every trifle, for wemust humor him sometimes! One day, long ago, I took him indelightfully, by saying that if he disapproved of waltzing, I hoped hewould not object to a galope! At Harrowgate, the military men will allfortunately be out of uniform, therefore Sir Arthur need never guesswho or what they are, as he has a most inconvenient dislike to my beingso intimate with the army list, and one really cannot do without a fewtame officers running about the drawing-room."

  "But, Agnes! as Patrick says, you cannot live upon fried epaulettes,therefore it would look much better not to be surrounded by so great avariety of officers! It scarcely seems respectable to be, as Patrickcalled you long ago, the member for Barrackshire!"

  "Marion! you are most ridiculously circumspect for your years!" repliedAgnes, in her most stately tone; "you have certainly commenced life atthe wrong end, and will be beginning to grow young, when I am thinkingit time to grow old--if I ever do!"

  "I wish not to buy experience at so dear a rate as most girls do, butrather to benefit by that of others,--to reach the kernel at once,without having any trouble in breaking the shell!"

  "Pshaw, Marion! I would feel myself a fool for a week, had I spokensuch nonsense! It gives me the tic douloureux to hear you. Who wouldthink of listening now to every old hack, worn out with thevicissitudes of life, and only fit to make you melancholy before thetime! But take your own way," added Agnes, who allowed Marion her ownway, as the Vicar of Wakefield's daughters were allowed theirpocket-money, which was never to be used. "You go upon the impossibleplan of pleasing everybody; but remember the wise old proverb,--'Coveryourself with honey, and the flies will eat you up.'"

  When Marion spoke from the heart to her sister, she was accustomed tofind herself talking to the winds, therefore she now concluded theconversation with a lively good-humored reply, and sat down to thepianoforte. Her music was as different as her conversation from that ofAgnes, who but little appreciated it, and generally left the room,humming a tune as soon as Marion struck her first chord; but, on thisoccasion, she for once remained stationary.

  The style of Agnes' singing was a brilliant bravura, which, in anypublic performer, might have commanded whirlwinds of applause, butwhile her clear soprano voice dazzled and astonished by its uncommonbrilliancy, Sir Patrick alleged that it cracked every glass in theroom, and that her taste had been cultivated till she had literallynone of her own,--Bellini's cadences, Rubini's shake, and Anybody'sgraces, all acquired from every teacher except nature, to whom nothinghad been trusted.

  The rich full-toned melody of Marion's _contralto_ voice, often becameinstinct with the s
imple suggestions of her own feeling, while hermusic had that only one charm which never can be taught,--expression.There was a depth of sensibility in her eye and voice, which rivetedthe attention and awakened the sympathy of every heart, while it alwaysappeared that, if display had been her object, she could have done muchmore than she attempted. No bird on a tree ever warbled its wild noteswith more perfect simplicity and real delight. The rippling of a brookover its pebbly bed, or the sighing of the breeze amidst the summerfoliage, was not more entirely natural, and while Sir Patrick sometimesprotested that "every note was a tear," she yet reached even hisfeelings, so that not a whisper could be heard from him till the lastcadence had melted away on his ear. Marion having seldom yet had anyaudience except her school-companions, remained almost unconscious ofher own singular gift; but this day she sang with deep enthusiasm, andthe last thrilling tones of her voice had died inaudibly away, when shelooked round and saw young Lord Wigton standing near the door besideAgnes, in an attitude of intense and speechless admiration, with allhis faculties, if he had any, apparently suspended,--his lipsapart,--his eyes beaming with delight,--and his whole expression fullof wonder and ecstasy; while Sir Patrick was lounging on a sofa near,exhibiting a smiling, frolicsome expression in his eye, full of fun andmischief.

  "This is hardly fair," exclaimed Marion, laughingly starting up with abrilliant blush of astonishment; "you know, Lord Wigton, stealing intoa dwelling house is punishable by law."

  "Whatever be the penalty, I am sufficiently rewarded," answered he,with a shy diffident look. "My flute will be happy any day to make youan apology."

  Those who love music, and those only, can estimate its power over thefeelings, and for several minutes afterwards Lord Wigton remainedsilent, then, suddenly awakening as if from a dream, he uttered someincoherent exclamations of rapture, and in tones of unaffectedanimation entreated Marion to sing the same air once again; while she,amused and surprised at his extraordinary _empressement_, prepared tocomply.

  "My song is not worth asking for twice, and still less worth refusing,therefore you shall have it in my very best style!" said Marion,playing the prelude, for she had none of that giggling affected shynessassumed by most girls during their first winter. "This note is pitchedso high, you should go up stairs to hear it!"

  "How strange that one so gay as you, should have a voice of suchmelting sadness!" exclaimed Lord Wigton. "It awakens fifty thousandthoughts and feelings I never knew before! I shall become animprovisatore, when listening to melody 'so rare and enchanting!'"

  "You must have heard it through the key-hole!" said Marion, laughing."I had no idea that my trash could reach any ears but my own."

  "It did more, for it reached my heart! Your voice is the very essenceof nightingales. I shall follow you to Harrowgate, for the chance ofhearing that air once again."

  "Perhaps, then, it has some peculiar interest," said Marion, surprisedat the warmth of his enthusiasm. "The chief delight of music certainlyis, the associations it brings out, the remembrances of bye-gone hoursit recalls, and the million of little phantoms it creates of past orfuture times."

  "Marion! your voice is by no means equal to that song, and your styleis very amateur-ish indeed," interrupted Agnes, bitterly. "I do notwish to boast," added she, laughing, to conceal her irritation; "butGrisi never ventured to sing that air after hearing me, and Delvinisaid his fortune would be made, if he could engage me for his PrimaDonna. I only mention this among friends. Keep it secret, for I hate tocause jealousy and mortification! Few people understand music like myold master Delvini, who said that my god-mother must certainly havepossessed the wand of a fairy, and gifted me with music."

  "Ah! Delvini is the man who plays a whole concerto upon one note of thepiano, or something wonderful of that kind," observed Lord Wigton,looking impatiently for Marion to begin. "I hate the helter-skelterschool in music! people scampering through their songs with a thousandmiraculous flourishes, which set one's teeth on edge."

  "Such performers," answered Marion, "give me no more pleasure than tosee Van Amburgh thrust his head into the lion's mouth, which is verysurprising, and what I could not do myself, but it excites no sympathy,and raises no emotion better than wonder."

  "Your voice is like some fairy spirit that would lead me to the world'send," said Lord Wigton, with an air of eager expectation. "And now,Miss Dunbar, I am all ears."

  "So I think, and very long ears too," muttered Agnes to herself, angrybeyond all bounds at the young Peer's attention to Marion, whenhitherto she had been the principal, or rather the only object ofinterest to him whenever they were in the same room. Agnes, without anassiduous lover, ready to put on her shawl, clasp her bracelets, andcarry her boa, was like a ship without a compass, not knowing which wayto turn, and though nothing could make up for the want of thosegraceful flatteries, amusing quarrels, and ambitious hopes, to whichshe was accustomed with Captain De Crespigny, yet should he disappointher, Lord Wigton had been recently promoted to the character of a _pisaller_ in the list of her admirers, as she was heard to remark, that"it is better to have a donkey that carries you, than a horse thatthrows you." Though usually the object of her unbounded ridicule, yetthe young Peer had recently become of so much importance to her, thatit was indeed an unpardonable affront when he spared one moment'sattention to Marion, while at the same time she considered his taste onthe occasion, quite as questionable as that of the bird which preferreda barley-corn to a diamond.

  Next morning, to the increased indignation of Agnes, Lord Wigton'sservant left at the door of St. John's Lodge, two splendid bouquets,both equally rare and beautiful; but when they were presented, Agneslooked angrily at Marion's, and plucked her own to pieces, saying,"That absurd little man! it is worth while to hear him talk of being inlove, he makes the subject so thoroughly ridiculous! I like all mylovers till I tire of them, and his Lordship's reign was over lastTuesday. He has the stiffness of the poker without its occasional heat,and no more individuality of character than a leaf upon a tree. Iwonder where we could have him measured for a cap-and-bells. He has solittle vivacity, that he now wears the fool's cap without the bells. Hedid so weary me! I think Lord Wigton must be the man Rochefoucalt hadin his eye when he said that many people would never have known how tofall in love, if they had not first heard it talked about! Hissentimental speeches are so thoroughly ridiculous, they often remind meof Liston's meditation in the farce, 'There stands my Mary's cottage!and she must either be in it, or out of it!'"