University of Virginia Library

Oddly enough—next day, for the first time since his arrival,
Colonel St. Quentin went out, long before breakfast, alone.
It was a beautiful morn; the first white frost of October
Sharpen'd the autumn air, freshen'd the odours of earth,
Shed upon leafage and lawn its crisp white gossamer garment,
Thin as a bridal veil; sparkling, and snowy, and cold.
Where then, so early a-field, this beautiful maidenly morning,
Sacred to innocent peace, pure as the breast of a bride,
Where did the Colonel go?—Who knows? Perhaps to the stables?
Or to the kennels, beyond? Or, for a stroll, to the Lodge?
Or to the river, perchance? Ah yes! No doubt, to the river;
For 'twas at White Rose Farm somebody saw him go by.
But, he return'd in time to behold, in the private garden,
Roses, late roses, in hand, Lady Sophia herself.
‘Ah!’ cried the gallant M.P., ‘what happiness, Lady Sophia,
‘Thus to surprise you, for once, here in your Eden, alone!’—
‘Nay, Cousin Charles,’ said the Dame, with a stately and courteous Goodmorrow,
‘If I am Eve at her flowers, who, may it please you, are you?’
‘Not, I assure you, a snake! Oh no, I have no such intentions:
‘You have already attain'd all that an Eve could desire.
‘I have no apples to give, and you are omniscient without them:
‘'Tis not for me to aspire—I cannot hope to persuade:
‘No—mais le père de famille, c'est lui, c'est monsieur votre mari--
‘Capable, celui-là, de tout; even of charming his wife!’—
That was a neat little touch; for he knew she was fond of Sir Harry:
Fond of him still—how strange! after a dozen of years:
Some ladies are, I perceive, thus cold and disdainful to others,
Keeping a soft little heart warm for their husbands alone.
Therefore, she brighten'd the more; and answer'd, with elegant fervour,
‘Ah, Cousin Charles, you are still subtle and smooth, as of old!
‘Well for the women at large you are now so devoted to serve them;
‘If you took opposite views, what would become of us all?
‘Tell me—your excellent Bill to Regulate Female Employment,
‘How does it work, mon ami, on the Conservative mind?
‘How are the Liberals pleased with that useful idea of coercion,
‘Telling a woman to do just what men say, and no more?
‘That wouldn't answer, of course, in the higher spheres of employment:
‘We must be absolute there—quite independent of you!
‘But, for the lower, 'tis well; they have too much freedom already;
‘Working, like men almost, out in the open, alone!
‘Would you believe—there are girls, yes, girls, on this very estate here,
‘Getting their living a-field, following horses at plough!
‘Is it not dreadful, to think of such gross, unfeminine conduct?
‘Yet they are actually fond—fond, of such labour as that!
‘They have been told it is wrong; but what is the use of our telling?
‘Nothing can stop it but you—you, and your excellent Bill.
‘Oh—à propos of these girls, my housekeeper tells me this morning
‘We have a little romance here, on the premises, now!
‘You condescend, I know, to the poor and their lowly enjoyments:
‘You too, perhaps, can endure Robin the keeper's romance?
‘Come—as we walk to the house, for I see it is breakfast time, nearly—
‘I will discourse you of love; love at the tail of the plough!
‘Robin, you know—Robin George, Sir Harry's respected head keeper?
‘Such a head keeper, it seems, never was seen upon earth!
‘Even in Scotland, forsooth, my husband must have his assistance,
‘Though you and Frank would arrive days before he could return.
‘Well—Robert George has a house, of course, and an excellent income;
‘Therefore, the women supposed he must be wanting a wife.
‘He, a fine well-to-do man, on the right side of thirty, or near it,
‘Sends a soft flutter of love all through the dovecotes around.
‘Every fair creature whose rank was sufficiently high and exalted,
‘Thought (so they tell me) at length she might become Mrs. George!
‘Farmers' daughters, to wit—upper servants here at the Castle—
‘Tradesfolk in yonder town—schoolmistress there at the Glebe—
‘Ah, 'twas a mere travestie of what happens with us, when a hero,
‘Blest with his ample estate, swoops on the county at large!
‘One sweet nymph, it was thought, our Robert especially favour'd;
‘Mary of White Rose Farm: don't you delight in the name?
‘Most respectable girl—so they tell me, I never have seen her—
‘Money—an only child—really a suitable match!
‘So that the rest, with a sigh and a shudder at Cupid's caprices,
‘Left him alone with his choice, gave him permission to woo.
‘Thus it went on; but to-day—oh, horror of horrors—the news is
‘'Tis not Mary at all; Robin refuses her love!
‘'Tis but a servant of theirs, a bondager bred on the homestead—
‘Some coarse creature, no doubt, following horses at plough.
‘Fancy, how shame and disgust run wild in the hearts of my maidens!
‘Women, you know, Cousin Charles, all are alike about this:
‘How should I feel—yes, and you—if some upstart citizen's daughter
‘Tangled dear Frank in her toils, forced the poor boy to propose?
‘Still, 'tis amusing enough, that grades so trivial in our eyes
‘Seem to the vulgar so large: what does it matter, at all,
‘Whether a keeper like George shall marry a farmer's daughter,
‘Or, a few levels below, stoop to the lowest of all?
‘So, I have taken his part; for the girl, they confess, is goodlooking—
‘And I have views about that, even in cases like hers—
‘I have condoned his offence; so the world must be pleased to be tranquil:
‘Even my housekeeper's tongue soon will begin to applaud!
‘Nay, I have sanction'd the girl: for Robert has orders to bring her
‘Up to the Castle to-day, here to be judged and approved.
‘Ah, by the way—if you like, you may witness that touching dénoûment:
‘Something may int'rest you there; something germane to the Bill!’

Grave and polite as he was, an attentive listener always,
Int'rested really, it seem'd, e'en in so homely a tale,
Colonel St. Quentin at last had certainly fretted a little;
Just at the end—at the words ‘here to be judged and approved.’
Haply, he thought to himself, ‘Who cares for the loves of a keeper?
‘He and his lubberly wench, why should they trouble us here?’
But, in his features composed, in his train'd and tutor'd expression,
Nothing so rude could appear; everything beam'd, as it ought,
Bicker'd and beam'd with delight—acquiescence disguised in effusion—
‘It was a charming idea; yes, he would certainly come.’—
They were arrived at the house, at the beautiful garden-entrance;
He, with a cousinly grace aptly enforced by a smile,
Handed her Ladyship in, to the wainscoted oak, to the armour;
Just as the gong had begun, handed her into the hall.