Messrs. Hanmer and Snatch," (which now, like the city of York, sent two members to parliament,) I took occasion one day to consult the advising partner, touching the tenability of the claims of the Crutchleys. I did not, of course, imagine they were able to marry me against my will; but I wished to know whether I and my letters were likely to cut so ridiculous a figure at the assizes, as to render it advisable to compromise the matter by accepting the ten thousand a year and its incumbent, and appearing with the plaintiff at Court instead of in court. The archives of the house of Hanmer and Snatch contained, I suppose, a sufficient record of my real position in the Danby family, to inspire its present Grand Inquisitor, Mr. Scriven Screwham, with no very exalted idea of my consequence; and when he found me threatened with the utmost rigour of the law, unless I condescended to accept two hundred and fifty thousand pounds consols, and Tchindagore Park, he surveyed me with a look of wonder and dismay, such as an Amphytrion in the play bends upon Jupiter, when shooting upwards to Olympus, like a Congreve rocket, after condescending to accept a supper and bed at his house! From that day, he bowed almost lower to me than to Danby, when we entered the office. He assured me, of course, that I had nothing to fear; — that people who, like the Crutchleys, could pay for the best advice, would be better advised than to make themselves ridiculous, not at my expense, but at their own. Mr. S. S. (who in spite of his initials was not a sower of sedition), ventured indeed to insinuate something about the desirableness of re-considering the matter, before I rejected such prospects. But I silenced him by a look. It is amazing what looks one can put on, when one is refusing ten thousand a year! Meanwhile, the wedding day in Connaught Place was approaching; and Frank and Jane were as happy as happy could be. Walsingham had all but recovered from his wound. There remained only enough of illness to justify such care and thoughtfulness on the part of his young bride, as, but for the pretext of indisposition, she had not dared to avow. Lucky dog!- Instead of being forced to the petits soins of a lover, petits soins were forced upon him! —A place was prepared for him in the corner of the sofa, and a footstool placed at his feet, almost as assiduously as if for CECIL. I do not suppose poor Jane fully appreciated the sacrifice her father was making, or she would have been more reserved in the manifestations of her attachment. But unused to disguise a thought or feeling, she seemed to take delight in rewarding herself for the two years of reserve she had undergone, by the free avowal of her present happiness. She evidently fancied that Walsingham was to be as much loved and cherished by her father, as by herself. Infatuated by the influence of a first love, she never perceived the incompetency of Frank to become his companion. When Walsingham sometimes indulged in those ebullitions of youthful spirits which delighted Jane and amused me, I have seen Danby struggle to look pleased, anxious only lest the effort of his indulgence should be apparent. No doubt, in his soul he thought the madcap insupportable, but bore with him for the sake of his child. "Let her only be happy," whispered he to me one day, in a broken voice, taking my arm to hurry away from the house, where Frank, in the buoyant spirits of triumphant joy, had been trying upon his bride some tire or trinket presented to her as a wedding gift." But when I reflect upon the moment of disenchantment, when all this levity will appear to her in its true light! "Jane is young and gay," pleaded I." We must not expect her to feel and think with our thoughts and feelings." "I do not GOD forbid she should! - GOD forbid she should ever suffer from such distracting thoughts as mine are now," exclaimed Danby with an impetuosity very unusual to him. "But she would have found in young Chippenham as much sprightliness and animation as in this man, combined with intelligence to appreciate her talents, and steadiness to do her honour in life!"— Oh! Cecil what will be her destiny! How will she bear the littleness of a mind like his, and the littleness of fortune from which such insignificance is inseparable. — But why do I allow myself to be betrayed into the discussion!" faltered he, suddenly interrupting himself, "I had hoped VOL. II.-8 to have embraced the decree of Providence without a murmur." A few days afterwards, when Frank had been committing himself by giving loose opinions in politics, in his presence, and worse still, in presence of my sister and Herries, in the sort of reckless, boyish manner in which fools rush in where seraphs fear to tread, Danby took me aside, and hinted his desire to accelerate the preparations for the marriage. At first, he had anxiously asked for time, as if to reconcile himself to the event. He now wished the wedding to be hurried. He seemed to doubt whether his fortitude and patience would hold out to the end. "As a son-in-law, perhaps, I shall look upon him in a different light," said he, in a despairing tone." But so long as the connection is not irrevocable, I permit myself to dwell upon it till my anxieties distract me. I am often unreasonable, often peevish with that poor girl! — and since no longer the doating fond indulgent father I once was, let me at least supply the deficiency by a more affectionate companion!" It was not very difficult, of course, to hasten the wedding. I almost agreed with Danby; for never had I seen Frank Walsingham so flighty as now, in the wildness of his joy. The sobriety of domestic life might perhaps render him more rational. Already, I had pledged myself to Danby to accompany him on a tour to the Continent. On his own account he felt an urgent necessity for change of air and scene; and the projected domestication of Lord Ormington with the Herries's, restored to him the command of his time. He seemed to think, too, that Frank would never feel himself thoroughly at home in Connaught Place, so long as his authority was the ruling influence. We promised ourselves to visit Italy; and the idea of such a journey, with such a companion, had been indeed enchanting, but that the manifestly wasting person and diminished strength and appetite of my brother, induced me to fear he entertained apprehensions of deeper cause for changing climate than he permitted himself to acknowledge. But though I saw he was ill, as he did not choose to avow it I respected his reserve so far as to take no notice; accepting the air of assumed cheerfulness with which he indulged in anticipations of our visit to Paris, as if as heartfelt as my own. I seldom left him now.- - The daily and hourly reminders of the approaching event that left him no moment free, the arrival of wedding clothes and jewels and presents, all the paraphernalia of what is called "the happy event," were less perceptible so long as I was on the spot, to supply the companionship which the pre-occupation of his daughter left wanting. One day, I was with him in the library as he was putting aside his books and papers, preparatory to the long absence he meditated from England; and I could see by the expression of his countenance, though I pretended to be absorbed in a book, that many of the letters which fell under his hand, and which he either destroyed, or placed in the secret drawer of his travelling desk, bore reference to Lady Susan or little Arthur. His back was turned towards me; but once, when the sound of a suppressed sob met my ear, I could not refrain from looking up.-A large glass opposite the table reflected all the emotions of my brother as he stood contemplating a long brown ringlet, bringing my poor sister-in-law so clearly before me, that even my own eyes were suffused with tears! A moment afterwards, I saw him replace it carefully in a paper, containing a soft fair curl:- I may have been mistaken-but it seemed to me slightly matted with a dark spot, as if bearing indications too sad to think of, of the cruel end of that blessed child! Poor, Arthur! poor Nothing ensued to make me openly aware of the agony of mind he had been enduring; and when he spoke again, it was as nearly as possible in his usual voice. Only when I rose to assist him in placing the heavier books in the cases, and as there fell from a new edition whether some pencil notes in hi he papers were to be left in the work, he answered, in a voice whose despairing hollowness it would be difficult to describe, "No, destroy them! It is no matter now! They were for her. I thought we should have read the -- book together. - All that is over. — I have lost my child! We shall never read, never feel together again!" Quid dulcius hominum generi a natura datum est, quam sui cuique liberi? TULL. SOME great writer, (who is it? - Bacon, Goldsmiththe two extremes of art and nature, or immortal Billy who combines both?) no matter whom, has observed that the most touching spectacle this world affords is "a good man struggling with adversity!" Heaven knows exactly what the great writer meant by adversity; if Bacon, probably an attachment for high treason, if Goldsmith, a tax-gatherer's warrant, or tailor's bill. But in my enlarged sense of the word, for adversity reading mental affliction, I swear I had sooner see twenty malefactors turned off-(I was going to say at Tyburn, but even though born previous to the assembling of the States General, I am not old enough to remember Tyburnizing,) twenty malefactors, then, done justice to, than witness the struggles of such a mind as Danby's under its present bereavement. For, after all, to lose the affections dearest to us on earth, and through no fault of our own or theirs, is as much a bereavement as any decreed by the implacable hand of death! I hesitated, if I remember, about the propriety of making public the incidents connected with Lady Ormington's death-bed. I do not hesitate to decline saying a word of my brother's anguish on his daughter's wedding day. was lowered into the family vat little Arthur's coffin vault: 1 пац never setia him thoroughly unmanned till now! Licet hic considere: non est |