University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.

“Stevenson has returned, and I certainly
must hear from Harriet,” exclaimed the sister
of Pendennyss, with great animation, as
she stood at a window, watching the return of
a servant, from the neighbouring post-office.

“I am afraid,” rejoined the Earl, who was
seated by the breakfast table, waiting the leisure
of the lady to give him his dish of tea---
“You find Wales very dull, sister. I sincerely
hope both Derwent and Harriet will not
forget their promise of visiting us this month.”

The lady slowly took her seat at the table,
engrossed in her own reflections, as the man
entered with his budget of news; and having
deposited sundry papers and letters, respectfully
withdrew. The Earl glanced his eyes
over the directions of the epistles, and turning
to his servants, said, “answer the bell, when
called.” Three or four liveried footmen
deposited their silver salvers, and different implements
of servitude, and the peer and his
sister were left by themselves.

“Here is one from the Duke to me, and one
for your ladyship from his sister,” said the
brother smiling; “I propose they be read
aloud for our mutual advantage;” to which
the lady, whose curiosity to hear the contents
of Derwent's letter, greatly exceeded
his interest in that of the sister, cheerfully acquiesced,

and her brother first broke the seal
of his, and read aloud its contents as follows:

“Notwithstanding my promise of seeing
you this month in Caernarvonshire, I remain
here yet—my dear Pendennyss—unable to
tear myself from the attractions I have found
in this city; although the pleasure of their
contemplation, has been purchased at the expense
of mortified feelings, and unrequited
affections. It is a truth, (though possibly
difficult to be believed,) this mercenary age
has produced a female, disengaged, young,
and by no means very rich, who has refused
a jointure of six thousand a year, with the
privilege of walking at a coronation, within a
dozen of royalty itself.”

Here, the accidental falling of a cup from the
hands of the fair listener, caused some little interruption
to the reading of the brother; but as
the lady, with a good deal of trepidation, and
many blushes, apologised hastily for the confusion
her awkwardness had made, the Earl
continued to read---“I could almost worship
her independence; for I know the wishes of
both her parents were for my success. I
confess to you freely, that my vanity has
been a good deal hurt, as I really thought
myself agreeable to her; she certainly listened
to my conversation, and admitted my approaches,
with more satisfaction, than those of
any of the other men around her; and when
I ventured to hint to her this circumstance, as

some justification for my presumption, she
frankly acknowledged the truth of my impression,
and without explaining the reasons
for her conduct, deeply regretted the construction
I had been led to place upon the circumstance.
Yes, my lord, I felt it necessary
to apologise to Emily Moseley, for presuming
to aspire to the honour of possessing so
much loveliness and virtue. The accidental
advantages of rank and wealth, lose all their
importance, when opposed to her delicacy,
ingenuousness, and unaffected principles.

“I have heard it intimated lately, that George
Denbigh was, in some way or other, instrumental
in saving her life once, and that to her
gratitude, and my resemblance to the colonel,
am I indebted to a consideration with Miss
Moseley, which, although it has been the
means of buoying me up with false hopes, I
can never regret, from the pleasure her society
has afforded me. I have remarked, on
my mentioning his name to her, she showed
unusual emotion; and as Denbigh is already a
husband, and myself rejected, the field is now
fairly open to your lordship. You will enter
on your enterprise with great advantage, as
you have the same flattering resemblance;
and, if any thing, the voice, which I am told
is our greatest recommendation with the ladies,
in greater perfection than either George
or your humble servant.”

Here the reader stopped of his own accord,
and was so intently absorbed in his meditations,

that the almost breathless curiosity of
his sister, was obliged to find relief by desiring
him to proceed: roused by the sound of
her voice, the earl changed colour sensibly,
and continued:

“But to be serious on a subject of great
importance to my future life, (for I sometimes
think, her negative has made Denbigh
a duke,) the lovely girl did not appear happy
at the time of our interview, nor do I think
enjoys at any time, the spirits nature has evidently
given her. Harriet is nearly as great
an admirer of Miss Moseley, and takes her
refusal at heart as much as myself---she even
attempted to intercede with her, on my behalf.
But the charming girl, though mild,
grateful, and delicate, was firm and unequivocal,
and left no grounds for the remotest
expectation of success, from perseverance on
my part.

“As Harriet had received an intimation, that
both Miss Moseley and her aunt, entertained
extremely rigid notions on the score of religion,
she took occasion to introduce the subject
in her conference with the former, and
was told in reply, `that other considerations
would have determined her to decline the
honour I intended her; but, that under any
circumstances, a more intimate knowledge of
my principles would be necessary, before she
could entertain a thought of accepting my
hand, or indeed that of any other man.'
Think of that---Pendennyss. The principles

of a Duke!--now a dukedom and forty thousand
a year, would furnish a character with
most people, for a Nero.

“I trust the important object I have kept in
view here, is a sufficient excuse for my breach
of promise to you; and I am serious when I
wish you, (unless the pretty Spaniard has, as
I sometimes suspect, made a captive of you)
to see, and endeavour to bring me in some
degree, connected with the charming family
of Sir Edward Moseley.

DERWENT.”

Both brother and sister were occupied
with their own reflections, for several minutes
after the letter was ended; and the silence
was broken first, by the latter saying,
with a low tone to her brother---

“You must endeavour to become acquainted
with Mrs. Wilson; she is, I know, very
anxious to see you, and your friendship for
the General requires it of you.”

“I owe Gen. Wilson much,” replied the
brother in a melancholy voice; “and when
we go to Annerdale House, I wish you to
make the acquaintance with the ladies of the
Moseley family, should they be in town this
winter---but you have the letter of Harriet
to read yet.” After first hastily running over
its contents, the lady commenced the fulfilment
of her part of the agreement.

“Frederic has been so much engrossed of
late with his own affairs, that he has forgotten
there is such a creature in existence as
his sister, or indeed, any one else, but a Miss
Emily Moseley, and consequently I have
been unable to fulfil my promise of a visit, for
want of a proper escort to see me into Wales,
and---and---perhaps some other considerations,
not worth mentioning in a letter, I
know you will read to the earl.

“Yes, my dear cousin, Frederic Denbigh,
has supplicated the daughter of a country baronet,
to become a dutchess; and hear it, ye
marriage-seeking nymphs and marriage-making
dames! has supplicated in vain!

“I confess to you, when the thing was first
in agitation, my aristocratic blood roused itself
a little at the anticipated connexion; but
finding, on examination, Sir Edward was of
no doubtful lineage, and the blood of the
Chattertons runs in his veins, and finding the
young lady every thing that I could wish in
a sister, my proud scruples soon disappeared
with the folly that engendered them.

“There was no necessity for any alarm, for
the lady very decidedly refused the honour
offered her by Derwent, and what makes the
matter worse, refused the solicitations of his
sister also.

“I have fifty times been surprised at myself,
for my condescension, and to this moment am
at a loss to know, whether it was to the lady's
worth—my brother's happiness--or the Chatterton
blood—that I finally yielded. Heigho!
this Chatterton is certainly much too handsome
for a man; but I forget, you have never
seen him.” (Here an arch smile stole over
the features of the listener, as his sister continued)---“to
return to my narration—I had
half a mind to send for a Miss Harris there
is here, to learn the most approved fashion
of a lady's preferring a suit, but as fame said
she was just now practising on a certain hero,
yclep'd Captain Jarvis, heir to Sir Timo---of
that name, it struck me her system might
be rather too abrupt, so I was fain to adopt
the best plan, that of trusting to nature and
my own feelings for words.

“Nobility is certainly a very pretty thing,
(for those who have it,) but I would defy the
old Margravine of —, to keep up the semblance
of superiority with Emily Moseley.
She is so very natural---so very beautiful---and
withal at times a little arch, that one is
afraid to set up any other distinctions, than
such as can be fairly supported.

“I commenced with hoping her determination,
to reject the hand of Frederic was

not an unalterable one. (Yes, I called
him Frederic, what I never did out of my own
family before in my life.) There was a considerable
tremor in the voice of Miss Moseley, as
she replied, `I now perceive, when too late,
that my indiscretion has given reason to my
friends to think, that I have entertained opinions
of his Grace and thoughts for the future.
I entreat you to believe me, Lady
Harriet, I am innocent of---indeed---indeed
as any thing more than an agreeable acquaintance,
I have never allowed myself to think
of your brother'—and from my soul I believe
her—we continued our conversation for
half an hour longer---and such was the ingenuousness—delicacy—and
high religious
feeling displayed by the charming girl, that
if I entered the room with a spark of regret,
I was compelled to solicit another to favour
my brother's love---I left it with a
stronger feeling that my efforts had been
unsuccessful---Yes! thou peerless sister of the
more peerless Pendennyss! I once thought
of your ladyship for a wife to Derwent—”

A glass of water was necessary, to enable
the reader to clear her voice, which
grew husky from speaking so long.

“Harriet Denbigh.”

On the ending this second epistle, the
same silence, which had succeeded the reading
of the first, prevailed, until the lady, with
an arch expression, interrupted it by saying,

“Harriet will, I think, soon grace the
peerage.”

“And happily, I trust,” replied the brother.

“Do you know Lord Chatterton?”

“I do; he is very amiable, and admirably
calculated to contrast with the lively gayety
of Harriet Denbigh.”

“You believe in loving our opposites, I

see,” rejoined the Lady; and then affectionately
stretching out her hand to him, she
added, “but Pendennyss, you must give me
for a sister, one as nearly like yourself as possible.”

“That might please your affections,”
answered the Earl with a smile, “but how
would it comport with my tastes---will you
suffer me to describe the kind of man you are
to select for your future lord---unless you
have decided the point already.”

The lady coloured violently, and appearing
anxious to change the subject, tumbled over
two or three unopened letters on the table, as
she cried eagerly,

“Here is one from the Donna Julia.”
The Earl instantly broke the seal, and read
aloud—no secrets existing between them in
relation to their mutual friend.

“My Lord,

“I hasten to write to you, what I know
will give you pleasure to hear, concerning
my future prospects in life. My uncle, General
M`Carthy, has written me the cheerful
tidings, that my father has consented
to receive his only child, without any other
sacrifice, than a condition, of attending the
public service of the Catholic Church--without
any professions on my side, or even an
understanding, that I am conforming to its
peculiar tenets---this may be, in some measure,
irksome at times, and, possibly, distressing—but

the worship of God, with a
proper humiliation of spirit, I have learnt
to consider as a privilege to us here---and I
owe a duty to my earthly father, of penitence
and care, in his later years, that will
justify the measure in the eyes of my heavenly
one.---I have, therefore, acquainted
my uncle in reply, that I am willing
to attend the Condé's summons, at any moment
he will choose to make them, and
thought it a debt due your care and friendship,
to apprise your lordship of my approaching
departure from this country; indeed,
I have great reasons for believing, that
your kind and unremitted efforts to attain
this object, have already prepared you to expect
this result.

“I feel it will be impossible to quit
England without seeing yourself and sister---to
thank you for the many—very many
favours, of both a temporal and eternal
nature, you have been the agents of confering
on me; the cruel suggestions, which I
dreaded, and which it appears, had reached
the ears of my friends in Spain, have prevented
my troubling your lordship, of late,
with my concerns unnecessarily.---The consideration,
of a friend to your character,
(Mrs. Wilson,) has removed the necessity of
my inexperience applying for your advice
---She, and her charming niece, Miss Emily
Moseley, have been, next to yourselves, the
greatest solace I have had in my exile—and
united, you will be remembered in my

prayers--I will merely mention here, defering
the explanation until I see you in London,
that I have been visited by the wretch,
from whom you delivered me in Portugal,
and the means of ascertaining his name
have fallen into my hands---you will be the
best judge of the proper steps to be taken---
but I wish, by all means, something may be
done, to prevent his attempting to see me
in Spain---should it be discovered to my
relations there, it would certainly terminate in
his death, and, possibly, my disgrace.---Wishing
you, and your kind sister, all possible
happiness, I remain your Lordship's obliged
friend,

“Julia Fitzgerald.”

“Oh!” cried the sister as concluding the
letter, “we must certainly see her before she
goes—what a wretch that persecutor of her
must be—how persevering in his villainy.”

“He does exceed my ideas of effrontery,”
said the Earl, in great warmth—“but he
may offend too far; the laws shall interpose
their power to defeat his schemes, should he
ever repeat them.”

“He attempted to take your life, brother,”
said the lady, shuddering—“if I remember
the tale aright.”

“Why, I have endeavoured to free him
from that imputation,” rejoined the brother
musing—“he certainly fired a pistol, but it
hit my horse at such a distance from myself,

that I believe his object was to disable me
from pursuit, and not murder;—his escape
has astonished me;—he must have fled by
himself into the woods, as Harmer was but
at a short distance behind me, admirably
mounted, on one of my chargers, and the escort
was up, and in full pursuit, within ten
minutes; after all, it may be for the best he was
not taken, for I am persuaded the dragoons
would have sabred him on the spot—and he
may have parents of respectability, or a wife
to kill, by the knowledge of his misconduct.”

“This Emily Moseley must be a faultless
being,” cried his sister, as she run over the
contents of Julia's letter to herself. “Three
different letters, and each one containing her
praises.”

The Earl made no reply, but opening the
Duke's letter again, appeared to be closely
studying its contents. His colour slightly
changed as he dwelt on the sense of its passages,
and turning to his sister, he inquired
with a smile, “if she had a mind to try the air
of Westmoreland, for a couple of weeks or a
month.”

“As you say, my Lord”—replied the lady
with cheeks of scarlet.

“Then I say, we will go. I wish much to
see Derwent, and I somewhat think, there
will be a wedding during our visit.” He rang
the bell, and the almost untasted breakfast
was removed in a few minutes. A servant
announced his horse in readiness. The Earl

wished his sister a friendly good morning,
and proceeded to the door, where was standing
one of the noble black horses before mentioned,
held by a groom, and the military looking
attendant, ready mounted, on the other.

Throwing himself into the saddle, the
young peer rode gracefully from the door,
followed by no one but his attendant horseman.
During this ride, the master suffered
his steed to take whatever course most pleased
himself, and his follower looked up in surprise
more than once, to see the careless manner
the Earl of Pendennyss, confessedly one
of the best horsemen in Spain, managed the
noble animal he rode. Having, however,
got without the gates of his own park, and
into the vicinity of numberless cottages and
farm houses, the master recovered his recollection,
and the man ceased to wonder.

For three hours the equestrians pursued
their course through the beautiful vale, which
opened gracefully opposite one of the fronts
of the castle; and if faces of smiling welcome—
inquiries after his own and his sisters welfare,
which evidently sprung from the heart—
or the most familiar but respectful representations
of their own prosperity or misfortunes,
gave any testimony of the feelings entertained
by the tenantry of this noble estate for
their landlord, the situation of the young nobleman
might be justly considered one to
be envied.

As the hour for dinner approached, they

turned the heads of their horses towards
home; and on entering the park, removed
from the scene of industry and activity, without,
the Earl relapsed into his fit of musing.
But a short distance from the house he suddenly
called, “Harmer;” the man threw his
spurs into the loins of his horse, and in an
instant was by the side of his master, which
he signified by raising his hand to his cap
with the palm opening outward. “You must
prepare to go to Spain, when required, in attendance
on Mrs. Fitzgerald.”

The man received his order, with the indifference
of one used to adventures and
movements, and having laconically signified
his assent, drew his horse back again, into his
station in the rear.