CHAPTER I.

shee ee nor ee at tome
af a o
And ‘Wisdom shows the ill without A cure.”—HAMMOND 3 Elegies.
_ Two or three days after the interview between Lord Vargrave and Maltravers, the solitude of Burleigh was relieved by the arrival of Mr. Cleveland. The good old gentleman, when free from attacks of the gout, which were now somewhat more frequent than formerly, was the same cheerful and intelligent erson as ever. Amiable, urbane, accomplished, and benevolent -there was just enough worldliness in Cleveland’s nature to
‘scope. Everything he said was so rational and yet, to an
maginative person, his conversation was unsatisfactory, and his hilosophy somewhat chilling. _ “T cannot say how pleased and surprised I am at your care of the fine old place,” said he to Maltravers, as, leaning on his cane and his ci-devant pupil’s arm, he loitered observantly through the grounds; “I see everywhere the presence of the Master.”
rake his views sensible as far as they went, but to bound their Es.
ee ern) A ee be
And certainly the praise was deserved !—the gardens were — now in order—the dilapidated fences were repaired—the weeds no longer encumbered the walks. Nature was just assisted and relieved by Art, without being oppressed by too officious a service from her handmaid. In the house itself some suitable _ and appropriate repairs and decorations—with such articles of furniture as combined modern comfort with the ancient and —
picturesque shapes of a former fashion—had redeemed the mansion from all appearance of dreariness and neglect; while
still was left to its quaint halls and chambers the character
which belonged to their architecture and associations. It was surprising how mucha little exercise of simple taste had effected.
“Tam glad you approve what I have done,” said Maltravers, —
“T know not how it was, but the desolation of the place when
I returned to it reproached me. We contract friendship with —
places as with human beings, and fancy they have claims upon us ; at least, that is my weakness,”
“And an amiable one it is, too—I share it. As for me, I look 2
upon Temple Grove as a fond husband upon a fair wife. I am
always anxious to adorn it, and as proud of its beauty as if it
could understand and thank me for my partial admiration. When I leave you I intend going to Paris, for the purpose of attending a sale of the pictures and effects of Monsieur De These auctions are to me what a jeweller’s shop is to a lover ; but, then, Ernest, I am an old bachelor.”
“And I, too, am an Arcadian,” said Maltravers, with a smile.
“Ah, but you are not too old for repentance. Burleigh now requires nothing but a mistress.”
“Perhaps it may soon receive that addition. I am yet undecided whether I shall sell it.” :
“Sell it!—sell Burlegh !—the last memorial of your mother’s ancestry !—the classic retreat of the graceful Digbys! Sel] Burleigh!”
“TI had almost resolved to do so when I came hither; then I forswore the intention: return to the idea.”
“And in Heaven’s name, why ?”
“My old restlessness returns, Busy myself as I will here, I find
now again I sometimes sorrowfully __
~ er
era e of action monotonous and Confined. - Pe began too
to draw around me the large circumference of literature and action; and the small provincial sphere seems to mea sad going back-in life. Perhaps I should not feel this, were my home less lonely ; but as it is—no, the wanderer’s ban is on me, and I again turn towards the lands of excitement and adventure.” -“T understand this, Ernest ; but why is your home so solitary ? You are still at the age in which wise and congenial unions are the most frequently formed ; your temper is domestic—your easy fortune and sobered aiibivion allow you to choose without q reference to worldly considerations. Look round the world, and 4 mix with the world again, and give Burleigh the mistress it requires.” Maltravers shook his head, and sighed. _ “TI do not say,” continued Cleveland, wrapt in the glowing interest of the theme, “ that you should marry a mere girl—but an amiable woman, who, like yourself, has seen something of life, ‘ and knows how to reckon on its cares, and to be contented with its enjoyments.” 4 “You have said enough,” said Maltravers, impatiently ; “an ex- perienced woman of the world, whose freshness of hope and heart ‘is gone! What a picture! No, to me there is something inex- - pressibly beautiful in innocence and youth. But you say justly _—my years are not those that would make a union with youth desirable or well suited.” _ “JT do xot say that,” said Cleveland, taking a pinch of snuff; “but you should avoid great disparity of age—not for the sate of that disparity itself, but because with it is involved discord of temper—pursuits. A very young woman, new to the world, will eo be contented with home alone; you are at once too gentle pe curb her wishes, and a little too stern and reserved—(pardon ; ;
me for saying so)—to be quite congenial to very early and
sanguine sere * - “Tt is true,” said Maltravers, with a tone of voice that showed ame
he was struck with the remark; “but how have we fallen on
this subject? let us change it—I have no idea of marriage—the
pgloomy reminiscence of Florence Lascelles chains me to the
fea aS
142 CE; O] HE MYSTERIES. ‘
“ Poor Florence, she might once have suited you, but now you
are older, and would require a calmer and more malleable —
temper.” “ Peace, I implore you!”
The conversation was changed ; and at noon Mr. Merton, who |
ae (pel Ow
had heard of Cleveland’s arrival, called at Burleigh to renew an ©
old acquaintance. He invited them to pass the evening at the |
rectory ; and Cleveland, hearing that whist was a regular amuse- ment, accepted the invitation for his host and himself. But —
when the evening came, Maltravers pleaded indisposition, and Cleveland was obliged to go alone. : When the old gentleman returned about midnight, he found Maltravers awaiting him in the library; and Cleveland, having won fourteen points, was in a very gay, conversable humour. “You perverse hermit!” said he, “talk of solitude, indeed, with so pleasant a family a hundred yards distant! You deserve to be solitary—I have no patience with you, They
complain bitterly of your desertion, and say you were, at first,
the enfant de la maison.” .
“So you like the Mertons? The clergyman is sensible, but
commonplace.”
“A very agreeable man, despite your cynical definition, and plays a very fair rubber. But Vargrave is a first-rate
player.” ; “ Vargrave is there still?” “Yes, he breakfasts with us to-morrow—he invited himself.” “Humph!”
“He played one rubber; the rest of the evening he devoted
himself to the prettiest girl I ever saw—Miss Cameron. What
a sweet face!—so modest, yet so intelligent! I talked with
her a good deal during the deals, in which I cut out. I almost lost my heart to her.”
“ So Lord Vargrave devoted himself to Miss Cameron ?”
“To be sure,—you know they are to be married soon. Merton told me so. She is very rich. He is the luckiest fellow imaginable, that Vargrave! But he is much too old for her: she seems to think so too. I can’t explain why I think it; but by her pretty reserved manner I saw that she tried to keep the
y
ight have had some chance of cutting out your old friend.” “So you think I also am too old for a lover ?”
_ “For a lover of a girl of seventeen, certainly. You seem fouchy on the score of age, Ernest.”
“Not I;” and Maltravers laughed.
“No! There was a young gentleman present, who, I think, argrave might really find a dangerous rival—a Colonel Legard — one of the handsomest men I ever saw in my life; just the, yle to turn a romantic young lady’s head; a mixture of the ild and the thoroughbred ; black curls—superb eyes—and the ftest manners in the world. But, to be sure, he has lived all his life in the best society. Not so his friend, Lord Doltimore, — who has a little too much of the green-room lounge and French
_ café manner for my taste.” “Doltimore—Legard—names new to me; I never met them at the rectory.”
_ “Possibly they are staying at Admiral Legard’s, in the neighbourhood. Miss Merton made their acquaintance at _Knaresdean. Grundy one would wish to meet with—who owns the mono- syllabic appellation of Hare (and who, being my partner, trumped my king!) assured me that Lord Doltimore was
" desperately in love with Caroline Merton. By the way, now, there is a young lady of a proper age for you—hand- ine and clever, too.”
@ “You talk of antidotes to matrimony:—and so Miss -Cameron——”
“Oh, no more of Miss Cameron now, or I shall sit up all ‘night; she has half turned my head. I can’t help pitying her— “married to one so careless and worldly as Lord Vargrave— thrown so young into the whirl of London. Poor thing! she had better have fallen in love with Legard; which I dare say she will do, after all. Well, good night!”
Sage ee
MM? ee ‘ &
temper.”
“ Peace, I implore you!”
The conversation was changed ; and at noon Mr. Merton, who had heard of Cleveland’s arrival, called at Burleigh to renew an
old acquaintance. He invited them to pass the evening at the
rectory ; and Cleveland, hearing that whist was a regular amuse- ment, accepted the invitation for his host and himself. But when the evening came, Maltravers pleaded indisposition, and
Cleveland was obliged to go alone. ;
When the old gentleman returned about midnight, he found Maltravers awaiting him in the library; and Cleveland, having won fourteen points, was in a very gay, conversable humour.
“You perverse hermit!” said he, “talk of solitude, indeed, with so pleasant a family a hundred yards distant! You deserve to be solitary—I have no patience with you. They complain bitterly of your desertion, and say you were, at first, the enfant de la maison.”
“So you like the Mertons? The clergyman is sensible, but commonplace.”
“A very agreeable man, despite your cynical definition, and plays a very fair rubber. But Vargrave is a first-rate player.” :
“ Vargrave is there still?”
“Yes, he breakfasts with us to-morrow—he invited himself.”
“ Humph!”
“He played one rubber; the rest of the evening he devoted himself to the prettiest girl I ever saw—Miss Cameron. What a sweet face!—so modest, yet so intelligent! I talked with her a good deal during the deals, in which I cut out. I almost lost my heart to her.”
“So Lord Vargrave devoted himself to Miss Cameron ?”
“To be sure,—you know they are to be married soon. Merton told me so. She is very rich. He is the luckiest fellow imaginable, that Vargrave! But he is much too old for her: she seems to think so too. I can’t explain why I think it; but by her pretty reserved manner I saw that she tried to keep the
y minister at a distance: but it would not do. Now, if you vere ten years younger, or Miss Cameron ten years older, you | _ might have had some chance of cutting out your old friend.” “So you think I also am too old for a lover ?” _ “For a lover of a girl of seventeen, certainly. You seem ouchy on the score of age, Ernest.” “Not I;” and Maltravers laughed. “No! There was a young gentleman present, who, I think, Vargrave might really find a dangerous rival—a Colonel Legard —one of the handsomest men I ever saw in my life; just the tyle. to turn a romantic young lady’s head; a mixture of the | ild and the thoroughbred ; black curls—superb eyes—and the © oftest manners in the world. But, to be sure, he has lived all his life in the best society. Not so his friend, Lord Doltimore, _ who has a little too much of the green-room lounge and French café manner for my taste.” - - “Doltimore—Legard—names new to me; I never met them at the rectory.” _ Possibly they are staying at Admiral Legard’s, in the _ neighbourhood. Miss Merton made their acquaintance at _ Knaresdean. A good old lady—the most perfect Mrs. _ Grundy one would wish to meet with—who owns the mono- syllabic appellation of Hare (and who, being my partner, trumped my king!) assured me that Lord Doltimore was _ desperately in love with Caroline Merton. By the way, now, there is a young iady of a proper age for you—hand- some and clever, too.”
“You talk of antidotes to matrimony:—and so Miss -Cameron——” e Oh, no more of Miss Cameron now, or I shall sit up all night ; she has half turned my head. I can’t help pitying her— ' married to one so careless and worldly as Lord Vargrave— _ thrown so young into the whirl of London. Poor thing ! she had _ better have fallen in love with Legard; which I dare say she _ will do, after all, Well, good night!”
Sy ae
“146 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. _
and then there were little village feasts connected with ‘the
schoolroom; play and work were joint associations.
And Maltravers looked into his cottages, and looked at the allotment-ground ; and it was pleasant to him to say to himself, “JT am not altogether without use in life” Butas he pursued his lonely walk, and the glow of self-approval died away with the scenes that called it forth, the cloud again settled on his brow; and again he felt that, in solitude, the passions feed upon the neart. As he thus walked along the green lane, and the insect life of summer rustled audibly among the shadowy hedges, and along the thick grass that sprang up on either side, he came suddenly upon a little group that arrested all his attention.
It was a woman, clad in rags, bleeding, and seemingly in- sensible, supported by the overseer of the parish and a labourer.
“What is the matter?” asked Maltravers.
“ A poor woman has been knocked down and run over by a gentleman in a gig, your honour,” replied the overseer. “He stopped, half an hour ago, at my house to tell me that she was lying on the road ; and he has given me two sovereigns for her, your honour. But, poor cretur! she was too heavy for me to carry her, and I was forced to leave her and call Tom to help ie.
“The gentleman might have stayed to see what were the consequences of his own act,” muttered Maltravers, as he ex- amined the wound in the temple, whence the blood flowed copiously.
“ He said he was in a great hurry, your honour,” said the village official, overhearing Maltravers. “I think it was one of the grand folks up at the parsonage; for I know it was Mr. Merton’s bay horse—he is a hot ’un!”
“Does the poor woman live in the neighbourhood? Do you know her?” asked Maltravers turning from the contemplation of this new instance of Vargrave’s selfishness of character.
“No; the old body seems quite a stranger here—a tramper, or beggar, I think sir. But it won’t be a settlement if we take her in; and we can carry her to the Chequers, up the village, your honour.”
“ What is the nearest house—your own?”
She shall not go to your Nonce: and be neglected. And as for the public-house it is too noisy: we must move her to the
é ms Voir honour!” ejaculated the overseer, opening his eyes,
— “Tt is not very far; she is severely hurt. Get a hurdle—lay a mattress on it. Make haste, both of you; I will wait here till you return.”
The poor woman was carefully placed on the grass by the _road-side, and Maltravers supported her head, while the men _ hastened to obey his orders, a