Modern Flirtations: A Novel Read online

  CHAPTER VII.

  Marion's sister, Agnes, five years older than herself, after beingdistinguished as the best musician, best sketcher, best linguist, besteverything, at Mrs. Penfold's, had left school with no real knowledge,except of the most frivolous kind, accidentally gathered inconversation, and repeated again in society like a parrot. Formed toexcite the most rapturous admiration, by the gorgeous magnificence ofher almost regal beauty, art had acted the part of the Fairy Bountifulin forming Agnes, while nature had showered her choicest gifts onMarion.

  Agnes was brilliant without being interesting, and dazzling withoutbeing attractive, for her mind seemed irremediably and incorrigiblyvulgar, selfish, and vain. A good actress, an inimitable mimic, andincomparable in a tableau, she assumed generally a queen-like dignityof manner, "stalking through life," as Sir Arthur said, "with anassured and stately step, as if practising for her appearance as aDuchess at the next coronation."

  Admiration seemed to Agnes the only pleasure of life, and amusementits only business; while, if ever she had possessed any sensibility,it was frittered away on the fictitious sorrows of the Adelines andJulias in the volumes which she read with surpassing diligence from acirculating library; though, in all other respects, Agnes wasted hertime amidst such listless idleness, that she might have let her nailsgrow, like those of a Chinese mandarin, to testify how literally shedid nothing.

  No one, certainly, could excel Agnes in turning up her hands and eyesat the faults of others; but those who trace nothing except evil intheir companions, have seldom much good in themselves. Marion found itone of the most important and pleasing studies in the world, tocomprehend the character and temper of her friends and connexions,besides her own, with a wish to render herself suitable to them, asher mind, pliable without weakness, was bent on constantly yieldingher own wishes to those she loved; but this unobtrusive generosity wasonly a subject of satirical remark to her sister, who could neitherunderstand nor believe in Marion's utter singleness of heart anddisinterestedness; her own sole aim being selfish indulgence, and hersole rule to obtain it in the easiest possible way.

  Self-love was the ruling passion of Agnes; love of others thequickening principle, or rather impulse with Marion, who would havezealously planted flowers for even strangers to enjoy; but Agnes wouldhave plucked all those of her friends, and scarcely taken the troubleto rear any even for her own use. Agnes, cold, vain, heartless, andself-sufficient, thought she was made only for this world, and thisworld for her, and for such as herself, young, gay, rich, and lovely,while all others were mere intruders on the creation. But Marion, onthe contrary, followed the dictates of her own heart, in wishing to dogood of every kind to every person, while still she had learned to aimabove nature, to that high standard of Christian perfection, soexalted, that those who have gained the most elevated human attainmentin virtue and excellence, must still consider the structure of theirminds, however beautifully decorated with generous sympathies and kindemotions, as being only begun, while they perseveringly aspireupwards, even to the measurement of that Divine Being who left us anexample that we should follow his steps.

  Agnes had now been, for three seasons, the reigning beauty ofEdinburgh! There it is the privilege of every tolerable-looking girlto be considered in her own set pre-eminent, during the first winterafter she is introduced; but though the public eye usually grows wearyof the same features, however perfect, during a second campaign, Agneshad apparently taken out a diploma of beauty, the reputation for whichseemed confirmed to others by her own thorough conviction of beingcompletely unrivalled, and by the exulting consciousness she displayedof her own supreme loveliness. Three seasons of tumultuous joy,triumph, and conquest, had already succeeded each other, during whichAgnes was, to use her own expression, "fiercely gay," yet still noyounger rival had appeared to eclipse the dazzling array of hercharms; and not a whisper was heard that the freshness of herRaphael-like beauty was at all impaired; nor were any ladies everheard to "wonder" what gentlemen could possibly see to admire in AgnesDunbar, as not a dissenting voice had yet ventured to make itselfaudible on that subject.

  Agnes began life with that perfect confidence in her own knowledge ofthe world, universally felt by young ladies under twenty, especiallywhen they have seen very little of it, and with a thousand schemes andprojects of perfect happiness. Though one after another her castles ofcards fell to the ground, still, in the exercise of perseveringenergy, she rebuilt the edifice again with new materials, and on whatshe imagined a better construction, but still in every instance, toher own unutterable astonishment, she found that most unaccountably,"hope told a flattering tale!"

  Considering every officer she danced with as a hero, and everygentleman who paid her a compliment as a lover, Agnes wasted her firstseason, as most young ladies do, in flirting with scarlet uniforms,the inhabitants of which were generally so much alike in ideas andconversation, that if blindfolded, she might have found it difficultor impossible to distinguish which of her countless red and goldadmirers happened at the moment to be "doing the agreeable."

  All her military victims were dying to know what Agnes thought of theirbrother officers; whether she intended to adorn the next ball by herpresence, or the next concert; how she liked their military band; ifshe proposed patronising their night at the theatre; whether shepreferred a _galope_ fast or slow; how she thought the colonel'sdaughter looked on horseback; whether she did not think it barbarouslytyrannical of the commander-in-chief to insist on their all wearinguniforms; how she liked the new regulation jacket; and above all,whether she thought the order for their wearing mustachios animprovement or not!

  To all these subjects, and many more of similar import, Agnes lent hervery profound attention, not only during the discussion, but in many asolitary hour, while her whole head, heart, and understanding werecrowded with the recollection of epaulettes, mustachios, spurs, andgold lace, and she privately believed that the supreme felicity ofearth,--all the most refined sensibilities of life, and all itsbrightest joys, were to be found at Piershill Barracks.

  Sir Patrick laughingly alleged that Agnes had rehearsed a set ofprepared conversations suited to every different occasion,--a musicalconversation for amateurs, full of crotchets and quavers--a huntingconversation about foxes, dogs, and steeple-chases,--a Court ofSession conversation for the lawyers,--and a dragoon conversation,discussing at great length whether officers should dance with spurs orwithout them, and in which she had been known to enumerate correctly,the facings of every regiment in Her Majesty's service.

  Her brother often and loudly declared that nothing is more perfectlyhopeless, than for any young lady to expect a serious attachment froman officer actually quartered with his regiment, as it was against allrule, and contrary to all nature or custom, for Cupid to attack thearmy. The mess-table, he assured her, invariably sets its face againstmatrimony, and the mess-table conversation was an ordeal, throughwhich he protested that few young ladies could wish their names topass; but nevertheless, Agnes, full of groundless expectations andlively vanity, continued to endure a succession of heart-rending andunaccountable disappointments, from very promising military admirers,who had stolen her bouquets, listened to her music, and drunk SirPatrick's claret month after month; but no sooner did marchingorders come for Dublin, Leeds, or Canada, than these interestingaffairs came to an untimely end with a P.P.C. card, or a sort ofnever-expect-to-meet-again bow, and Agnes was left with the army-listin her hand, wondering what regiment would come next, and whetherthere were many unmarried officers in it.

  "How amusing it is," said Agnes, in a confidential mood, one day toClara and Caroline, "when I walk about with Captain De Crespigny atthe promenades or balls, and see all the other beaux looking angry ordisappointed!"

  "Nothing on earth is so charming, I suppose, as to be a beauty!"exclaimed Caroline, with a good-humored sigh, and a look of comichumility, "I would sacrifice ten years of my life to be admired forone! To hear people saying, 'Have you seen the lovely Miss Smythe? IsMiss Smy
the to show herself at Lady Towercliffe's party?' and then,like you, Agnes, to have all the beaux dying for me!"

  "I would rather be married for any attraction in the world, than merebeauty," said Clara, earnestly; "even money is a more tolerablemotive. How insufferable it would be to live with a person whoseaffection depended on whether your hair were well dressed, or yourshoes well made!"

  "That is the very thing I should like!" exclaimed Agnes, "to see itconsidered of the greatest consequence whether I wore pink or blue,and whether it were one of my well-looking days or not!"

  "But then, Agnes, your well-looking days would occur seldomer andseldomer, while during the very periods of illness and depression,when attention and kindness are most needed, a fastidious husbandwould feel injured if your complexion were not at its best," repliedClara, laughing. "No! no! give me the happiness that will, as mymilliner says, 'wash and wear well!'--good fire-side domesticcomfort."

  "Comfort! I hate comfort!" said Agnes, indignantly, "a stupid,detestable word, as opposite to real happiness as night is to day! Ishall be satisfied with nothing short of felicity."

  "But felicity can last only a day, while peace and comfort may beenjoyed for life," replied Clara. "In talking of marriage, you seem tothink of nothing beyond the honey-moon, and to forget the hours, days,and years of actual life that must follow!"

  "It is absolute nonsense looking so far out to sea as you do, Clara,"said Agnes, impatiently. "How I shall enjoy, next winter, perhaps,chaperoning you both to parties if I can find any fascinating victim,tall, thin, and handsome enough to please me."

  "But surely you would not, for any consideration, marry yet!"exclaimed Caroline. "Lady Towercliffe says that the holiday of agirl's life is from the time she leaves school till the day shemarries, and you should enjoy ten years at least, Agnes, before youare tempted to begin the cares of life."

  "Cares!" exclaimed Agnes, with a contemptuous laugh, "I do not meanever to take any cares upon myself! but, as Captain De Crespigny verysensibly observed yesterday, the husband worthy of me should be madeon purpose. In the first place, he must be rich, for I have a scrupleof conscience in ever witnessing a poor marriage, where, after thewedding-cake has been eaten, there is nothing else left. Ineverything,--even in the mere choice of a ribbon,--I am fastidious,and would rather not have a thing at all, than dispense with gettingprecisely what I like. My intended, then, must have been educated atEton, for I do think the ugliest bit of human nature on earth is aScotch school-boy of about fourteen. He must have such a foot! sosmall! oh! no foot at all. He must employ Buckmaster the tailor, gethis shoes from Paris, and never wear the same gloves twice. Hemust----"

  "My dear Agnes! this should be all put into the contract!" said Clara,laughing. "It perfectly ruins me to hear you talk so extravagantly;and, besides, pray be warned in time of your own probable fate, thatthe beauty of a family, or the beauty of a winter, is said always tomake a poor marriage. I never could understand the reason of that; butLady Towercliffe says, men are perverse beings, who like to criticiseand undervalue a professed beauty, while, in the mean time, they aretaken by surprise, and fall in love unexpectedly with some obscuregirl, whose charms they discover, or fancy for themselves, and whom,probably, not another man living ever thought tolerable."

  "For my part," said Caroline, "I shall wait till a person can be foundas handsome as Sir Patrick, as agreeable as you tell me Captain DeCrespigny is, as clever as Mr. Granville, as merry as young DeLancey----"

  "And as rich as Lord Doncaster!" interrupted Agnes.

  "No! no!--, a hundred times no!" replied Caroline, coloring, speakingin a singular tone of asperity, "I hate and abhor money as aconsideration in marrying! I wish money had never been invented! Itbecomes a misery for those who have too much, as well as for those whohave too little."

  "Well! give me money," said Agnes, laughing. "And let me tell you,Caroline, that even if you have eight or ten thousand pounds, which isprobably the utmost, you will find it no great inconvenience duringthe long run of life. Money has its merits, and I should be afraid tomarry any man, even the most romantic of my lovers, if it involved thenecessity for his sacrificing one of his usual comforts;--if itobliged him to drink his bottle of sherry instead of claret every day,I am not quite sure that he would never begin to grumble! They tell meit should be considered a man does not wish himself twice every dayunmarried again. No, no money, is no bad thing, and if you have any tospare, pray let me have the surplus."

  "Who, and what are Mrs. and Miss Smythe?" was a frequent question ofAgnes to herself, never apparently to obtain a satisfactory answer. OnCaroline leaving school, her aunt had taken a villa at Portobello,where the two English strangers excited extreme attention, more fromtheir evident desire to avoid it, than from any thing very remarkablein their appearance or manner, though Mrs. Smythe was certainly of that_genus_ old maid so common in England, with a handsome independence, asuite of servants, a pony-carriage, most splendid dress, and somepretensions still to youth and beauty, as any fragment of good looksthat yet remained she most liberally displayed; while her manner had aflirting tone of coquetry most unsuitable to her apparent age, forminga singular contrast to the quaker-like simplicity of Caroline's dress.

  There was a singular contrast between the gravity of costume affectedby Miss Smythe, and the keen festivity of spirit with which sheentered into every scheme of amusement, or even, it might be said, ofmischief. Her vivacity was occasionally almost overpowering, her fancylively beyond example, while with her brilliant, yet interestinganimation, there was mingled a rare acuteness of mind, a swiftcomprehension, and an innate passion for all that was amiable andbeautiful, which gave liveliness and vigor to what she said, thoughthe rapidity of her mind sometimes led Caroline to a false estimate ofpersons and circumstances, as she always judged or acted frominstantaneous impulse; yet there was a generous frankness in herdisposition, which captivated those who knew her, and a gracefulsimplicity in all she did, which gave it interest; for, withoutintention, there was something in all her thoughts and actionsstriking and peculiar.

  Her features, though irregular, attracted and enchained the eye, fromthe magical variety of their expression, and though an amateur of merebeauty might have been surprised and perplexed to divine why her lightgrey eyes, pale cheeks, and chestnut hair could beguile his attentionaway from the more perfect contour of others, the amateur ofphysiognomy was delighted to find there an ever-varying source ofinterest in watching the bright emanations of thought, feeling, andvivacity, which glittered or sparkled in her eye, or played about hermouth.

  When Mrs. Smythe first settled at Portobello, scarcely a week ofgossiping, wonder, and conjecture had elapsed, in the little communityaround, when she requested to have an interview with Sir Arthur alone,which took place immediately, and must have excited much interest inhis mind, as the Admiral remained silent and abstracted during thewhole subsequent evening, while he strolled slowly up and down thedrawing-room, "pacing the quarter-deck," as he called it, for a lengthof time; and, after being closeted some hours the following day withMrs. Smythe and his confidential agent, they proceeded to amagistrate's house together, with whom they requested a privateconference, the purport of which did not transpire.

  From that day, an intimacy, amounting to friendship, was establishedbetween Sir Arthur and the two ladies, who seemed on all occasions tolook to him for advice and protection, and in whose house they spent apart of every day, to the unspeakable delight of Henry De Lancey, whowas charmed, on his return from college, to find so agreeable anaddition to the small circle at Seabeach Cottage.

  "Years rush by us like the wind;" and how rapid seems the transitionfrom boyhood to mature years! Henry had early attained anextraordinary development of mind and appearance, a strength ofintellect and a decision of purpose which seemed to Sir Arthur almostprecocious, while every day discovered some new talent, or enlargedthose he already possessed, for his mind seemed ever on the wing andfull of energy. "Either he is nobly born, or nature has a nobi
lity ofher own," thought the Admiral, when viewing the character of his youngprotege, as it gradually arose to personal and intellectual supremacy.His mind was ardent, courageous, and deeply contemplative, full ofgenerous impulses, but apt to view all that happened to himselfthrough an exaggerated medium. His mysterious history, and thefascination of his manner and appearance cast a spell over theinterest and affections of all who beheld his countenance, or heardthe sound of his harmonious voice. With a strikingly handsome person,he had already acquired a decided air of fashion and refinement, whilea bright vein of almost chivalrous romance which enlivened his mindwas subdued by a poetical temperament, inclining him to dwell much onmelancholy musings, relating to the strange circumstances of his ownearly history. Keenly sensitive to kindness or neglect, his love andgratitude to Sir Arthur were without bounds, and his brotherlyaffection for Marion was tinged with the natural enthusiasm of hisdisposition, but before long the warmest and deepest feelings of hisnature were secretly concentrated on the gay, giddy, and fascinatingCaroline Smythe. Every scrap of paper that came in his way becamecovered with sketches of her buoyant figure and graceful profile, in avariety of animated attitudes; or, on other occasions, verses in Latinor English, little better certainly than the nonsense verses atschool, immortalised her charms.

  Young as he was, however, Henry's spirit recoiled already from thedanger of loving too well, or being beloved by any, when he wastaught, in hours of solitary reflection, to remember that principleand honor must forbid him to seek a mutual attachment, while his nameand station remained unknown, and, perhaps, disgraceful. There was abewildering power in Caroline's society, which chained him to her sidewherever they met, while, contrary to his resolutions and wishes, hisevery look, smile, word, and action became steeped in love. Often andseverely did he upbraid himself for this vain and dangerousindulgence, but he seemed spell-bound and unable to remember, in herpresence, any thing but the delight of listening to her gay salliesand her delicious laugh; though the mirth of her young eyes becameveiled often by a look of care as sudden as it was to himunaccountable, being so foreign to the sparkling, almost mischievousgaiety of her nature.

  Henry's devoted, and nearly boyish attachment, raised in his heartmany a high aspiration after future distinction, many a bright hope ofhonor, promotion, and usefulness. The model for his imitation in everything noble and distinguished was Sir Arthur, and he resolved tosacrifice love itself, till he had attained, like him, a name and astation for himself. The very sound of Sir Arthur's step, the verytones of his voice, were dear to him; and, casting aside every softeremotion connected with his romantic reveries respecting Caroline, hebecame impatient to face the bitter blasts of the world's trials,taking his beloved benefactor for his example, and the Holy Scripturesas his guide.

  "Perhaps," thought he, allowing his young mind to wander away from thedull inexorable realities of life, while a rapturous smile ofanticipated joy lighted up his countenance. "Perhaps, when honor anddistinction have at last crowned my efforts, I may yet be acknowledgedin the face of the world, by those connexions who have now somysteriously cast me off. Perhaps Caroline herself may at last beproud to return that fervent attachment, of which she has not yet evena suspicion! The old proverb says, 'all men know what they are, butnone know what they shall be!' I know neither the one nor the other;but I must not be satisfied with vaguely coveting learning, honor, orusefulness hereafter, contemplating like a mere child the end withoutthe way, but seek them energetically. Nothing is impossible to thosewho persevere! This may and must be a rough world of difficulty to me,but amidst a thousand buffetings and humiliations to come, I feel anundying hope of success, while even in this scene of hard and tryingdiscipline, my best comfort and encouragement shall ever be drawn fromthe august truths of religion, in all their awfulness and solemnobligations."

  Knowledge is power, and knowledge of character is the greatest powerof all; but Henry, in general very penetrating, was perplexed by theflirting, light-headed manner of Mrs. Smythe, whenever she was in thesociety of gentlemen her own contemporaries in age, and the grave,deferential manner she adopted towards her young companion, whom sheseemed to treat almost inadvertently as her superior, though theslightest indication of her doing so usually brought the color ofCaroline in vivid flashes to her cheek, and caused an appearance ofmutual embarrassment between the aunt and niece, which surprised andpuzzled him. Their extraordinary munificence to the poor and publiccharities also astonished him, as that appeared so widelydisproportioned to their visible means and usual expenditure, thoughit seemed only to please without surprising Sir Arthur, who wasaccustomed to give so liberally himself, that Henry sometimes fearedhe encouraged his newly-found friends in a degree of lavishextravagance inconsistent with the ordinary means of single ladies;yet all was given with a graceful negligent indifference to the vulgarsubject of pounds, shillings, and pence, quite unprecedented.Subscriptions to church extension, missionaries, schools, Bibles,blankets, food, clothing, coals, money, and medicine, were scatteredaround them with unsparing profusion, though it appeared to Henry,that, in the case of Mrs. Smythe herself, whose name always appearedostensibly on the list as the larger contributor, there was lessalacrity in giving, than in Caroline, who seemed to be purse-bearerfor both, and always defrayed the whole amount.

  Among the many things which surprised Henry in Mrs. and Miss Smythe,nothing had that effect more than the keen, intense, and rathersatirical interest with which both ladies gathered up every particularrelating to the manners, flirtations and adventures of Captain DeCrespigny, though it was evident, that while both ladies could relateevery particular of his former history and character, neither knew himby sight. Mrs. Smythe mentioned rather contemptuously some vaguerecollections of him formerly, as a pert, awkward school-boy, while,to Henry's increasing perplexity, the young lady's color visibly roseto carnation whenever he was unexpectedly named, and her eyes usuallyglittered with a suppressed smile, if any anecdote or description inSir Arthur's conversation related to him, till at length the curiositywhich had so long been evidently fermenting in the minds of Mrs. andMiss Smythe, exploded one day in the form of an eager request, thatSir Arthur would invite Captain De Crespigny to meet them at dinner.

  Marion and Henry were amused at the laughing alacrity with which SirArthur at once consented, and they observed, after the note wasdespatched, that many a whispered consultation took place, and many alively jest passed among the lively trio, to which they were not madea party; while the two ladies appeared evidently in extacies ofamusement at their anticipated introduction. Marion would have givenworlds to witness the scene; but her furlough from Mrs. Penfold's hadexpired on the very day of Sir Arthur's party, and she was mostunwillingly deposited in a carriage with her baggage, at the momentwhen Captain De Crespigny alighted, in full huzzar uniform, out of theminibus which had conveyed him from Piershill.

  The Admiral's party was exceedingly small and select; but the guestsappeared all in gay, buoyant spirits; while Captain De Crespigny,seeing but one young lady in the room, looked upon himself as hernatural property, and handed her to dinner, though no formalpresentation had taken place.

  With Caroline he was, before long, flirting to the top of his bent,while she assumed a charming look of consciousness when he addressedher, receiving the whole artillery of his small talk and civilitieswith the most interesting expression of naivete, though once Henryobserved in her smile so odd a mixture of mirth and malice, while, atthe same time, a look of covert humor lurked in her eye, and quiveredon her lip, that he could not but wonder at the grave, demure lookwhich she affected.

  Nothing was ever more enchanting to Captain De Crespigny than theblushing, averted looks with which Caroline listened to all hisinsinuated admiration; while now and then she nodded and smiled withthe prettiest air of incredulity imaginable, if he professed it moreopenly. Occasionally, however, Captain De Crespigny was almost putout of countenance by her unexpected replies, or very mal-aproposquestions, which gradually led him on, he scarcely k
new how, intoflirting perfectly _a'loutrance_, while opportunities seemed purposelyafforded him with a degree of tact perfectly incredible in one soyoung, and apparently unsophisticated, to say even more than he eversaid before. With a gay, laughing animation, almost amounting tosilliness, the young lady archly doubted his sincerity, admired hiswit, and slyly misunderstood all his compliments, till he was obligedto repeat his meaning and explain his insinuations, making hisprofessions and speeches all so exceedingly plain and undisguised,that, to his own astonishment, he found himself positively making love,on a very few hours' acquaintance, with a degree of explicitness whichhad never occurred to him in the whole course of his practice before.

  In the evening, Caroline was, after many entreaties, prevailed on tofavor Captain De Crespigny with a song; and never had he been socompletely perplexed as by those with which the young lady, preservinga look of most imperturbable gravity, proceeded to favor him. Sheseemed to have a dozen different voices, and half-a-dozen differentstyles of performance, but had evidently been well taught, anddisplayed occasionally some beautiful notes. At first her tones wereclear and sharp, accompanied by the strangest flourishes and cadencesthat Captain De Crespigny had ever heard or imagined. In the nextsong, her voice was low and husky, while her eyes were mostsentimentally elevated to the ceiling, with a sort of St. Ceciliaexpression, rather partaking, however, of the ludicrous, and in hervoice another like a mouse in a cupboard. At one time her tonereminded him of a well-known singer at Vauxhall; at another, he feltpersuaded she was taking off Clara Novello; occasionally there was soconsiderable a tinge of the brogue, that he became convinced she mustbe Irish, and she ended by singing "The Dog's Meat Man," in a toneout-screaming a peacock, but adopting the air and attitude of aCatalani, and concluded with looking exultingly round in expectationof rapturous applause, which Sir Arthur bestowed in abundance, andCaptain De Crespigny in comparative moderation, being, for the firsttime in his life, at a loss to know whether he were treated on thisoccasion in jest or in earnest.

  Repeated subsequent visits at Seabeach Cottage continued the intimacywhich Captain De Crespigny had so oddly begun, and his curiositybecame more and more piqued by the singularity of Miss Smythe's mannerand conversation. She displayed, along with a most extravagant love ofamusement, a genius for satire and mimicry quite unprecedented, and inwhich she most freely indulged. Many a scene was acted over by her,and supported by Henry, with astonishing talent and vivacity; for bothseemed to have a similar propensity, being able, after an hour'sintercourse with any individual, to imitate his whole peculiaritieswith almost magical precision--to follow, in an imaginaryconversation, the very train of his ideas, and to represent everylittle trick or habitual expression, every turn of the head, and everytone of the voice, with a gay look of mockery which would have madetheir fortunes on the stage.

  One evening, Sir Arthur having delivered up to his young friends thekey of an old chest, filled with velvet coats and brocaded silkdresses, formerly worn by his bye-gone ancestors, Caroline, Henry, andCaptain De Crespigny amused themselves by grouping some beautifultableaux, and by acting charades. At one time, both the gentlemenappeared in similar costumes, as Shakespeare's two Dominos in theComedy of Errors, when Sir Arthur suddenly exclaimed, as if he hadmade some great discovery, "How very strange that I never beforeobserved the likeness between you two good-looking young fellows! Ideclare it is quite remarkable! If you were brothers in reality aswell as in pretence, it could scarcely be more striking! Do prayCaptain De Crespigny, turn your profile more towards Mrs. Smythe, thatshe may see what I mean!"

  Henry laughingly received these remarks as an undoubted compliment,and bowed with good-humored grace to Sir Arthur, who observed withastonishment that Captain De Crespigny's color rushed to his verytemples, and receded again, leaving his countenance pale and almostghastly, while he suddenly broke off the entertainment, and strode upto the fire-place, where for some minutes he stood, with his back tothe company, in evident agitation, while a dead silence ensued.

  "Well!" whispered Sir Arthur to Caroline, "I have often been told thatpeople are never pleased with a likeness, but certainly Louis DeCrespigny is the most conceited of men to feel so intolerably angry atbeing compared to my young friend here. There are certainlyworse-looking people in the world than Henry!" added the Admiral, witha look of partial affection. "And it was no such insult as DeCrespigny seems to think, when I paid him the compliment, to say thathe resembled my boy, who is in every respect the pride of my heart."

  "I wish the Captain may never meet with a greater mortification,"replied Caroline, laughing; "and I am sure he would be much the betterof a few pretty severe ones to keep him in his senses!"

  Henry meantime had observed with good-humored surprise, and no smalldegree of perplexity, the excitement, so disproportioned to theoccasion, into which Captain De Crespigny had been thrown by SirArthur's remark, but with boyish frankness he instantly went up tohim, saying, in a lively and rallying tone,

  "I am sure Sir Arthur did not mean anything personal, Captain DeCrespigny; but his remark only proves my uncommon skill in assuming alikeness to any one I please. My success in disguising myself atcollege, was often beyond my intentions or utmost hopes. You would notknow me yourself, if I represented an old man, or a Frenchhair-dresser, as I have sometimes done!"

  "Indeed!" replied Captain De Crespigny, trying to recover himself, "Ishould think there was not the dress upon earth in which I would notknow you again!"

  "Well! some day perhaps, as a beggar, I may, with your leave, beguileyou of half-a-crown."

  "It would be a clever beggar who succeeded in that! but I defy youthere. Half-a-crown! why! I have only as much as that to keep me tillmidsummer! You have my free leave to try me at any time, or in any wayyou please, and my pardon for all your success!"

  "I can only say," interposed Sir Arthur, "that the impudent rascalbrought real tears into my eyes, not long ago, by a story he trumpedup at my door, which would have deceived the whole Medicity Society.He can make himself appear as old as myself,--and I declare one day helooked not very unlike your uncle, Lord Doncaster!"

  A vivid flush passed over the whole forehead and features of CaptainDe Crespigny at these words; but assuming a sudden tone of livelinessand vivacity, he summoned Henry to continue their entertainments forthe evening, which were to be concluded by acting a proverb of whichSir Arthur and his guests were to discover the design. Miss Smythe,dressed in cottage costume, seated herself pensively on a stool, afterwhich Captain De Crespigny, equipped with a bow in his hand, andcarrying on his back a quiver filled with all the old pens in thehouse, to represent arrows, entered in the character of Love, and wasabout to aim his darts at the peasant girl, when Henry, disguised in atattered old cloak, to personate Poverty, limped slowly into the room.On seeing this beggarly apparition, Cupid, pushing his hair up till itstood on end, assumed an expression of comic horror, and with a shriekof dismay, rushed to the window, as if about to jump out.

  The whole party laughed heartily, and declared that the _denouement_ ofthis piece contained a most salutary lesson against a mere love-match;and Sir Arthur said, for his own part he would attend to thewarning,--that all portionless young ladies might consider the casehopeless with him, and he trusted every one present intended to beequally prudent!

  "Yes! most assuredly!" exclaimed Captain De Crespigny, "I am almosttempted how to take my uncle's advice, and propose to my cousin, MissHoward, the heiress, though love flies out of the window whenever Ithink of her. She was a little, pert, red-fingered, flaxen-hairedchild, when we parted last! The memory of that girl often haunts melike a night-mare since; for my poor mother, on her death-bed, got apromise made about our being married, or something of that kind. Inever heard the particulars; but I believe we were to be madeacquainted, and refuse one another, before either of us could acceptany one else; but I should think there could be little chance ofanything that depended on my being refused."

  Captain De Crespigny was bowing himself off late
in the evening, andtaking a very particular leave of Miss Smythe, having called up allhis most fascinating graces for the occasion, while he felt inwardlygratified by the pleasing conviction that another had been added tothe list of young ladies whom he had made miserable for life, when hewas surprised to observe her mouth perfectly quivering with suppressedlaughter, and an arch, satirical gleam in her eye for which he couldnot account, though it made him feel somewhat uncomfortable anddissatisfied. If it were possible that any one could be laughing athim, she certainly was! A world of most intolerable ridicule appearedin her expression--an air almost of contempt! and he turned to leavethe room with a feeling of mortification and anger which he wasashamed to allow even to himself.

  When Captain De Crespigny hurriedly opened the drawing-room door, nearwhich he and Caroline had been standing, he was surprised to see aperson lurking close behind it, who darted instantly away, anddisappeared; but before the intruder was out of sight, an exclamationof terror and dismay escaped from the lips of Caroline, who rushedtowards Sir Arthur, exclaiming, in accents of almost frantic alarm,"He is there! he is there! Oh! save me, Sir Arthur! he is there! Thathorrid, dreadful man! he is there! Stop him! stop him!"

  Captain De Crespigny instinctively ran in pursuit of the retreatingfigure, and eagerly attempted to seize him; but the fugitiveinstantaneously opened the house door, and escaped in the darkness,while, apparently to intimidate his pursuer, he fired a pistol in theair, and waved another above his head with frantic gestures of rageand violence.

  "It is beyond all measure extraordinary how he got into the house!"exclaimed Sir Arthur, in discussing the event with an aspect of graveperplexity. "My doors are most systematically locked after dusk, andnot a window is unbarred, yet the locks are unbroken and the barsuntouched!"

  "There is something next to supernatural in the way he invariablyfinds us out, and gets access everywhere," said Mrs. Smythe, in almostbreathless agitation. "One would imagine he had some unearthlyaccomplice to discover where we are concealed, and to assist him inescaping the vigilance of the police. Night and day we have beenliable to his incursions. In town or country--in the drawing-room, orbeside our carriage--in church, or going to a party--there he is,lurking secretly near us, or terrifying Caroline by his suddendisappearance, and gliding away like a shadow. He baffles everyattempt to overtake or arrest him, but seems for ever on the watch!Sometimes he used to make his presence known by throwing a stone atour windows; often at midnight, by singing hoarsely beneath them, andeven occasionally by firing a pistol in the air; but I did hope inthis remote corner we might have enjoyed peace and safety. How are weever to venture home?"

  "I shall escort you with the whole party in close phalanx," repliedSir Arthur, trying to assume a rallying tone. "Old Martin and myselfare quite invulnerable, and I only wish my secretary were here also,as he would be a host in himself; but he is absent on a month's leave,and for the first time in my life I miss him."

  The night being impenetrably dark, and not a sound to be heard but theecho of their footsteps on the gravel, when Mrs. Smythe alighted fromthe carriage to walk across the garden leading towards her house. SirArthur immediately desired the servants to bring out lights, when oneof the candles having flared up suddenly near Caroline, she thoughtshe perceived the madman close beside her, lurking behind the stem ofa large tree. The dark shadows concealed all but his face, in whichthere gleamed a look of maniacal triumph and malignity, while rushingclose up to Captain De Crespigny, he said, in a threatening tone, lowand distinct, "He who crosses my path shall die!" and instantlydisappeared through the hedge. When Miss Smythe, on hearing his voice,with a stifled scream of terror fled into the house, again that loudand fiendish laugh, which she had already heard once, arose behindher, and rung through the night air in tones of high delirium, causinga cold shudder to thrill through the hearts of even the boldest amongher companions, while they hastily followed her, and having placed thetrembling girl in apparent safety, soon after took leave, charging theservants to chain and double-lock the door.

  It was some hours before Caroline could sufficiently compose her mindto retire; but after the house was sufficiently quiet, and theservants in bed, she sat up reading, with the hope that her nervesmight become less painfully agitated. The slightest noise caused herheart to beat almost audibly, and she was conscious that a mouserattling in the wainscot would have caused her to faint. Mrs. Smythecould scarcely be prevailed upon to leave her alone; but as they bothslept on the drawing-room floor, only divided by a thin partition,Caroline induced her, at a late hour, to withdraw, while not a soundnow disturbed the deep repose of nature, but "the wailing sorrows ofsome midnight bird."

  The moon had arisen, shining with softened radiance into herapartment, when Miss Smythe arose from her devotions, and she couldnot but think at the moment what a bright emblem of her divine Saviourthat glorious luminary presented to the mind, not glowing, like thesun, with a radiance which no human eye can gaze upon, but reflectingupon the darkened earth a mild, subdued refulgence, perfectly suitedfor the steady contemplation of those whom it had arisen to benefitand cheer.

  Nature was hush'd, as if her works ador'd The night-felt presence of creation's Lord.

  Pleased with such thoughts, a gradual composure stole over her senses,and Caroline, at length, seeing her candle nearly burned out,consequently determined to retire for the night. Not a sound was to beheard in the house, but her own light step, as she moved about theroom,--the very opening of a drawer, or the shutting of her book,sounded unnaturally loud, jarring upon her nerves with a startlingeffect,--the shadows in the more distant part of the room lookeddarker than usual, and the least moan of the wind increased thepainful tension of her nerves to agony. Scarcely had she begun toundress, when a sudden noise not far off caused her to start withconvulsive terror; her heart became chilled with apprehension, thecandlestick which she carried in her hand fell to the ground, thelight was extinguished, and she stood trembling and alone in total,impenetrable darkness.

  Caroline tried to persuade herself that the sound must have beenproduced by her own fancy,--she looked around, and all was quiet,--shelistened, and all was perfectly still,--she reasoned with herself, andbecame resolute to try whether sleep might not plunge her intoforgetfulness and peace, when her attention was accidentally attractedtowards one of the windows, where the bright moonbeams rested on anobject which seemed to blast her eyes with horror, and paralyzed herat once in a speechless agony of fear. The top of a ladder rested onthe window-sill, upon the summit of which stood the dark figure of aman, his face plastered so close upon the glass, that his nose wasperfectly flattened against it, and his hands raised in a menacingattitude towards her. The instant he saw, by Caroline's look offrantic alarm, that she had seen him, he dashed in the window-frame bya single stroke of his powerful arm, and seemed about to make aforcible entrance, when Miss Smythe, with the energy of despair, threwopen the door, and fled, calling aloud, in the sharp, shrill accentsof desperation, for help.

  The servants were speedily assembled around her, and the instant shefelt herself in comparative safety, nature could sustain no more, but,convulsed in every nerve, and throwing herself into the arms of Mrs.Smythe, with a cry of thankfulness and agitation, she fainted.

  An instant alarm was given in the neighborhood, a diligent search wasmade, and the police for several days exerted their utmost activity todetect the miscreant, but in vain. Not a trace remained to convinceCaroline that the whole had not been a hideous dream, except that theladder had been left standing at her window, and turned out to havebeen stolen from a neighboring garden. The window-frame exhibited afrightful picture of devastation, being literally broken to fragments,and at some distance in the garden a loaded pistol was discovered,perfectly new, which it was hoped might lead to a discovery, by thepolice tracing out the maker and purchaser, seeing that it had been sorecently obtained.