 Section 9 of the Inheritance by Susan Edmonds-Stuynfarier Volume 1 Chapter 9 What Death He Get? Who Heir Prefers? Discussion of His Ancestors This chimney piece of gold or brass, that coat of arms blazoned in glass, When these with time and age have end, Thy prowess must Thyself command. True nobleness doth those alone engage, Who can add virtues to their apparent age. Malmay, fame, Earl of Westmoreland Upon entering the turret, the first thing that caught Miss Pratt's eye was a shaving glass, Which she asserted was by no means the proper size and shape for that purpose, Being quite different from the one used by Anthony White, Which was broader than it was long, While Lord Rossville's was longer than it was broad. A dispute, of course, ensued for the Earl would not be bearded upon such a subject by any woman, When suddenly giving him the slip in the argument she exclaimed, But bless me, we're forgetting the Diana. And what a bad light you've put her in! There's a great art in hanging pictures. Mr. White brought a man all the way from London to hang his. And I'll never forget my fight when he told me the hangman was coming. Now I see her where I stand. Mrs. St. Clair come a little more this way. There now was there ever such a likeness. A astonishing exclaim, Mrs. St. Clair, in amazement. Diana never had such incense offered to her before, said Colonel Delmore. The resemblance, if indeed there is a resemblance, said the Earl, In manifest displeasure, is extremely imperfect. The portrait represents a considerably larger and more robust-looking person than Miss St. Clair. It has also something of a bold and masculine air which I own. I should be sorry to perceive any young lady in whom I take any interest, Since nothing, in my opinion, derogates so much from female loveliness As a forward or presuming carriage. My dear Lord Rossville, how anybody who has eyes in their head can dispute that resemblance. Just turn round, my dear, and show yourself to Miss St. Clair who ashamed of the scrutiny Had turned away and was conversing with Colonel Delmore a little apart. Mr. Lindsey contemplated the picture with a thoughtful air And occasionally stole a glance at Gertrude but said nothing. How do you count for such an extraordinary likeness, inquired Lady Betty, Of Mrs. St. Clair as she stood with her fat flora Under her arm, staring at the picture? I'm quite at a loss if this picture is an ideal creation of the painter's imagination. It's not that I can assure you interrupted, Miss Pratt. The original was a real flesh and blood living person Or I've been misinformed with a look of interrogation to Lord Rossville. If one of the family, however remote the resemblance as Lord Rossville just remarked Does sometimes revive even at distant periods in the person of. But Mrs. St. Clair did not get leave to finish her sentence. Oh, if Diana had been a St. Clair there would have been no wonder In the matter, you know, again dashed in the intolerable Pratt But the truth of the matter is she was neither more nor less than Bonnie Lizzie Lundy, The Huntsman's daughter. Much I've heard about Lizzie Lundy and many a fine song was made upon her forth She was the greatest beauty in the country, high or low. There's one of the songs that's followed the fashion now That I remember singing when I was young But they've changed the name from Lundy to Lindsay And Miss Pratt, in a cracked and unmusical voice, struck up Will you go to the Highlands, Lizzie, Lindsay, etc. Lord Rossville seemed somewhat disconcerted at this abrupt disclosure Of his Diana's humble pedigree and anxious to account for Lizzie Lundy, The Huntsman's daughter being permitted a place amongst the nobles of the land And that too in his private apartment He therefore made all possible haste to atone for this solicism and dignity And having him three times began Since this picture has attracted so much attention And called for so much animadversion, it is proper and indeed necessary That some elucidation should be thrown on the circumstances to which it owes its birth And again the earl paused, hemmed and looked round like a peacock Spreading its plumage and straining its neck in all directions Before it can even lift the crumb that has been thrown to it While Miss Pratt, like a pert active sparrow, taking advantage of its attitudes Darts down and bears off the prize Though the story soon told for there's no great mystery about it The late Lord there pointing to a picture of a fat, chubby gentleman in a green coat Hunting horn and bag wig Was a second Nimrod in his young days And had a perfect craze for dogs and horses And he brought a famous painter here from some place abroad I forget the name of it now to take the beast's likenesses As old Lady Christian used to say It was a scandal to think of dogs sitting for their pictures Ha ha ha In particular there was a famous pack of hounds to sit And the painter chancing to see Lizzie one day with them about her Was struck with the fancy of doing her as a Diana And it was really a good idea for I think she's the outset of the picture Anthony White says he would give a hundred guineas merely for her head and shoulders Mrs. St. Clair had changed color repeatedly during this piece of biography And seemed not a little mortified at discovering that her daughter's beauty Claimed no higher original than the Huntsman's daughter Upon a more close inspection she therefore declared That although there might be something in the toothed ensemble To catch the eye at first sight Yet upon examination it would be found the features and expression Were totally different But Lord Rossville resolved not to be bulked of his story Now commenced a more diffuse narrative of the circumstances to which Lizzie Lundy owed her posthumous fame concluding with his most Unqualified dissent as to the possibility of there being the slightest resemblance Except in the color of the hair But to do Miss Pratt justice the resemblance was very remarkable The Diana's features were on a larger scale And her countenance had a less soft and intellectual cast Then Miss St. Clair's figure was also more robust than elegant Her complexion rather vivid than transparent And her hair rather bold than dignified But there was the same long shaped soft dark blue eyes The same grecian nose and mouth The same silky waving dark ringlets Curling naturally around the open ivory forehead Forming altogether that rare and peculiar style of beauty Where the utmost delicacy of features yet marked and expressive And the strongest contrasts of color are blended into one harmonious whole Pray what became of this divinity inquired Colonel Delmore I'm sure I can't tell you, I think the story was That she had been crossed in love with some gentleman And that she married a Highland drover or taxman I can't tell which and they went all to sticks and staves How provoking said Colonel Delmore as he still stood contemplating the picture That so much beauty should have been created in vain How do you know that it was created in vain said Mr. Lindsey Considering how very rare a fame beauty, perfect beauty is There certainly seems to have been rather a lavish expenditure of it On the huntsman's daughter and drover's wife Colonel Delmore don't you remember what the poet says on that There's many a flower that's born to grow unseen And weights its beauty on the senseless air However rare beauty may be said Mr. Lindsey passing over Miss Pratt's Miss quotation Your desire of confining it to the higher orders is rather too arbitrary They certainly can better appreciate it return Colonel Delmore There's a refinement of taste requisite to admire such beauty as that Any glance from the Diana to Miss St. Clair How could one of the Kanaya possibly comprehend the fine antique cast of those features The classic contour of the head, the swan-like throat The inimitable molding of the cheek would not appear round white eyes And blousy red cheeks with a snub nose and a mouth from ear to ear Have been quite as well bestowed upon the drover I dare say he could not talk so scientifically on the subject as you do Said Mr. Lindsey, but for all that he might have been as fond of his wife And as proud of her too as either you or I could have been Impossible, that is supposing she had been of my own rank in station Not Venus herself could have won me to a maze à Lyons Suppose the Huntsman's daughter had been as perfect in mind and manner as in person The idea is absurd, the thing is impossible Interrupted Colonel Delmore impatiently It is certainly difficult to conceive refinement of manners In a person of low birth, but why may not a noble mind be conferred on a peasant As well as on a prince Why, quite Colonel Delmore, indignantly do you really pretend to say That the offspring of a clown or a mechanic, animals who have walked the world In hobnails shoes or sat all their lives cross-legged Where their nose is at a grinding wheel Can possibly possess the same lofty spirit as the descendants of heroes and statesmen The very thought of being so dissented must elevate the mind And give it a conscious superiority over the low-born drudges of the earth Then you must feel yourself greatly superior in mind to verge or horrors Shakespeare, Milton, Spencer, and a long et cetera of illustrious names Down to the present day who have not absolutely low-born Yet no pretensions to hybrid For my own part I think it is rather humbling than elevating to reflect on the title In significance of this very family Who though possessed of honors, wealth, and power for centuries Has never produced one man imminent for his virtues or his talents Nor if we may trust two painters, one female celebrated for such beauty As this poor huntsman's daughter You see her as a goddess, remember, said Colonel Delmore ironically Perhaps in her blue flannel jupin on sandal feet And kerch it in a comely cotton gown carrying a message to the dogs She would have had fewer attractions even for your noble nature There is a taste in moral as well as in corporeal beauty, said Mr. Lindsey And I can love and admire both for their own intrinsic merits Without the aid of ornament You, Delmore, must have them in court dress with stars and coronets But with beauty such as that and his eye unconsciously rested on gertry Had the mind principles of manners corresponded to it I could have loved even Lizzie Lundy perhaps too well Had the huntsman's daughter been an angel and a goddess in one Replied Colonel Delmore warmly I never could have thought of her as my wife There is degradation in the very idea All this while Ms. Pratt had as usual been Gabbling to the rest of the party in a manner which prevented their hearing Or joining in this argument Ms. St. Clair indeed had contrived to pick up a little of it And warmly adopted Colonel Delmore's sentiments on this subject I wonder what became of Lizzie's family for I think always I heard she had a daughter as great a beauty as herself I have a notion it was a daughter of hers Mrs. St. Clair are you well enough? Bless my heart she's going to faint All crowded round Mrs. St. Clair who seemed indeed on the point of fainting The windows were thrown open water was brought Smelling bottles applied till at length she revived And with a faint smile about that She had been indisposed for some days And was subject to spasms of that nature Lord Rossville bent over his sister-in-law As she sat at the open window with the utmost solicitude He felt really interested in her For she had listened to him with the most unceasing attention And without once interrupting him A degree of deference he was little accustomed to In his own family at length She declared herself perfectly recovered And supported by his lordship and her daughter She retired to her own apartment That was an unlucky remark of yours Colonel about low marriages whispered Miss Pratt I really think it was that overset her Though I suspect Lizzie Lundy had something to do with it too Very likely some relationship there Where you know the blacks are not just At the top of the tree with a knowing wink That and the smell of Lord Rossville's boots And shoes together was really enough to overset her But Miss Pratt was now left to gavel To herself for the rest of the party Had dispersed End of Section 9, Section 10 Of The Inheritance by Susan Edmundstone Farrier This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Volume 1, Chapter 10 I cannot blame thee who am myself attached With weariness to the dulling of my spirits Tempest How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world Is a feeling that must be more or less Experienced by everyone who has feeling Enough to distinguish one sensation From another and leisure enough for ennui There are people it is well known Who have no feelings And there are others who have not time to feel But alas there are many whose misfortune it is To have feeling and leisure And who have time to be nervous Have time to be discontented Have time to be unhappy Have time to feel ill used by the world Have time to weary of pleasure in every shape To weary of men, women, and children To weary of books, grave and witty To weary of authors and even of authorises And who would have wearied as much of the wit Of a madame de Stahl as of the babbles of Miss Pratt In this disposition perhaps the only solace Is to find some tangible and lawful object Of which to weary some legitimate source of ennui And then sweet are the uses of adversity When they come even in the questionable shape Of a Miss Pratt In the humdrum society of a dull county What a relief to the weary soul To have some person to weary of To have a sort of bag-fox to turn out When fresh game cannot be had Is an enjoyment which many of my readers Have doubtless experienced Such was Miss Pratt Everybody wearyed of her Or said they wearyed of her And everybody abused her While yet she was more sought after And asked about then she would have been had She possessed the wisdom of a moor Or the benevolence of a fry She was in fact the very heart of the shire And gave life and energy to all the pulses In the parish She supplied it with streams of gossip And chit-chat in others And subject to ridicule and abuse in herself Even the dullest layered had Something good to tell of Miss Pratt And something bad to say of her For nothing can convey a more opposite meaning Than these apparent synonyms But there was no one to whom Miss Pratt Was so unequivocal a pest As to Lord Rossville for his lordship Was a stranger to ennui perhaps Cause and effect are rarely combined In one person and those who can weary others Possess a never-failing source Of amusement in themselves Besides the earl was independent of Miss Pratt As he possessed a wide range For his unwearing powers In his own family For he could weary his steward And his housekeeper and his gamekeeper And his coachman and his groom and his gardener All the hours of the day by perpetual fault Finding and directing Perhaps after all the only un-cloying pleasure In life is that of finding fault The game-ster may weary of his dice The lover of his charmer The bon vivant of his bottle The virtuoso of his verb too But while this round world remains With all its imperfections on its head The real fault-finder will never weary Of finding fault The provoking part of Miss Pratt Was that there was no possibility Of finding fault with her As well might Lord Rossville Have attempted to admonish the brook That babbled past him Or have read lectures to the fly Which buzzed round his head For thirty years Lord Rossville Had been trying to break her in But in vain Much may be done as we every day see To alter and overcome nature Ponies are made to walls Horses to hand-tea kettles Dogs to read birds to cast accounts Pleased to walk and harness But to restrain the volubility Of a female tongue is a task That has hitherto defied the power of man With so much of what may be Dissonance and similarity It may easily be imagined That Lord Rossville and Miss Pratt Even when most in unison Produced anything but harmony Yet they only jarred They never actually quarreled For they had been accustomed To each other all their lives And while she laid all the rebuffs And reproofs she received To the score of bile He tolerated her impertinence On account of blood And softness and suavity Of Mrs. St. Clair's manners Formed so striking a contrast To the sharp, not-like attacks Of Miss Pratt that Lord Rossville Became every day more attached To his sister-in-law's company And she soon found herself So firmly fixed In his good graces That she ventured to request permission That she and her daughter Might be allowed to visit her relations With whom she hitherto only communicated By letter. Certainly, my dear madame replied That nothing can be more proper And reasonable than that you should Recognize and visit the different Members of your own family Who I am happy to think Are all persons of unblemished Reputation and respectable Stations in life Which respectability is in a fair way Of being increased by votes Which I understand An uncle and brother of yours Have lately acquired in the county And as there's every appearance About having a warmly contested election Shortly, their political influence If properly directed Cannot fail of proving Highly beneficial to them I therefore give my unqualified Ascent as to the propriety Of your visiting your own family As soon as we can arrange The proper time, mode, and manner Of doing so. But with regard to the daughter Of the honorable Thomas St. Clair I must candidly acknowledge to you My dear madame, I have not yet Brought my mind to any fixed determination On that point. Your own good sense will naturally Point out to you the very peculiar Situation in which she stands. Ms. St. Clair is as present To be viewed as the heiress Presumptive to the title's Honours and the states of this family But observe, although presumptive She is by no means heiress Apparent. For there is a wide and important distinction Betwixt these apparent synonyms. Here his lordship Entered into a most elaborate Explanation of these differences Of distinction. And now, my dear madame, I am sure You will agree with me that in a Situation of such peculiar delicacy Every step which Ms. St. Clair takes Are to be weighed with the utmost Nicety and deliberation Since what might be befitting The heiress presumptive Might be deemed derogatory To the heiress apparent In what dignity demands Of the heiress apparent, the world might Sent you as an undue assumption Of consequence in the heiress presumptive. Ms. St. Clair, though Choking with indignation At this roundabout insinuation That her family was scarcely fit To be associated with By her own daughter, yet repressed Her indignation, and as She did not consider it of much Consequence that she should Accompany her on her first visit She readily yielded the matter With a good grace. But no sooner Had she done so than the Earl As was often his custom immediately Talked about and took the opposite Side of the argument. The result Was that Mrs. St. Clair Should immediately proceed to visit The respective members of the black Family and the Earl's traveling Charied in forth with all appliances The boot was ordered out for the occasion. It was with a thrill of Delight, Mrs. St. Clair took her place In it and revolved in All the eclat of rank And state. End of section 10, section 11 of the Inheritance by Susan Edmund Stoonfarier. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Volume 1 Chapter 11 Pictures like these, dear Madam, to design Ask no firm hand and Know an earring line Some wandering touches, some Reflected light, some flying Stroke alone can hit them right Pope, fearful Anticipations mingled With Mrs. St. Clair's natural Affection as she thought Of the meeting with her own family It's only members Consisted of a brother who Partly by industry, partly By good fortune, had become The proprietor of a large Tract of unimproved land in The neighborhood. Two Unmarried sisters residing In the county town and an old Uncle from the East Indies A half-brother of her Mothers reported to be Enormously rich. When she had left home, her brother Was a mere raw, unformed lad, But he was now an elderly Man, the husband of a woman She had never seen and the Father of a numerous family After acquitting the noble Domain of Rossville, the Country gradually assumed A less picturesque appearance Rocks, woods, and rivers Now gave way to arable Land, well-fenced fields And well-filled barnyards While these in turn Yielded to vast Tracks of improvable land Thriving belts of young plantation Rings, stone dykes, and drains In all directions It was in the midst of this Seemery that Bellevue Stood preeminent. It was A showy, white-washed, winged House, situated On the top of the hill, commanding An extensive view Of mures and mosses many O, with traces Of cultivation interspersed And which by many was Considered as very fine And by all was styled A very commanding prospect A dazzling white gate With spruce canister lodge Opened upon a well-graveled Avenue, which led to the Mansion surrounded by a little Smiling lawn with a tuft Of evergreens in the center On one hand appeared A promising garden wall On the other a set Of commodious-looking farm Offices, everything was in the Highest order, all bespoke The flourishing gentleman farmer. The door was opened by A stout, floored foot boy In flaunting livery, whose Yellow locks seemed to Stiffen at sight of the splendid Equipage that met his view. The interrogatories, however At length recalled him to a sense Of duty, and upon the question Being put for the third time, Whether his master or mistress Were at home, he returned That cautious answer which marks The very well-tutored though Perplexed menial, that is That he was not sure, but he would see. After an interval Of about five minutes, during which Much opening and shutting of doors Was heard, and many a head was seen Peeping over blinds, and from Behind shutters, their prudent will Returned with an invitation To the ladies to alight. And leading the way, he conducted To a well-furnished, but evidently Uninhabited drawing-room Where he left them with an assurance That his mistress would be there In a minute. Many minutes, however, Elapsed during which the visitors Were left to find Amusement for themselves, which Was no easy task, where the Materials were wanting. In such circumstances A fire is a never-failing Resource. If bad, we Can stir it, if good, we Can enjoy it. But here was No fire, and the bright Hanson stove was only to be Admired for itself, and the Profusion of white paper which Filled it. The carpet Was covered, the chairs were In their wrappers, the screens Were in bags, even the chimney Piece, that refuge of the weary Showed only two Hanson Girondeaux. There were two portraits, indeed Larges life hanging on each Side of the fireplace and all The rawness of bad painting Glaring in tints which time Himself could never mellow. The one it might be presumed Was Mr. Black in a bright blue Coat, pure white waistcoat, And drooping fall of foyers Looking neck cloth holding a Glove, and looking very Sensible. The other It might be inferred was Mrs. Black Sitting under a tree in a yellow Gown, and ill put On turban, smiling with all her might And both evidently bent upon Putting all the expression They possibly could into their Faces by way of getting a Good penny worth for their money. At length the door opened And Mrs. Black in propria Persona entered, fathered By a train of daughters. She was rather arme bon poing With a fine healthy color, clear Blue eyes, and an open Good humored expression of Continence, forming altogether What is expressively termed A comely woman, which if it Means something less than beauty Is often more attractive. She had evidently Been dressing for the occasion As her gown seemed scarcely Yet out of the fold, but Looked like a thing apart from Her, and had that inexpressible Air of constraint which Gowns will have when Gowns are made things of primary Importance. Mrs. Black welcomed her Guests in a manner which, if it Had nothing of the elegance of Tall, was yet free from Affectation or pretension. She expressed her regret that Mr. Black should be from home, But she had sent in search of Him, and hoped he would soon cast Up. Mrs. Sinclair, resolving to be Delightful, sat with her sister In law's hand in hers, and Was presently deep in inquiries As to the state of her family, The number of her children, their Ages, sexes, names, pursuits, And so forth. The amount of the information She received was this. Mrs. Black was the mother of Eleven children living and Two dead. Her eldest daughter, who had Just gone to take a walk, was Going to be married, and her Youngest to be weaned. She was thought a very good Marriage for Bell, as Major Waddell had made a Hanson fortune in the company Service, and was very well Connected in the county, being Cousin German to Sir William Waddell of Waddell Maines, and very likely to Succeed to him if he was Spared. He was also related to the Boggs of Bog Hall, and the Present Bog Hall had married a Waddell who was going to stand For the county. Major Waddell, to be sure, was a Good deal older than Bell, but He had kept his health well in India, and though not a beauty Was very well, at least he Pleased Bell, and that was Everything. Due congratulations were here Offered by Mrs. St. Clair With the customary remarks of It's being a pleasant and Desirable thing for the first Many disparate years was on the Right side, etc, etc, etc Concluding with the request to Be favored with the sight of The young people. Mrs. Black's eyes beamed Delight as she pulled the bell And gave orders for the children To be brought, observing at the Same time that they were Sad romps and seldom fit to be Seen. Mrs. St. Clair, meanwhile, was Engaged with her cousins, pretty Talked much of balls and Officers and poetry, but as The children entered she sighed And said there was an end of All rational conversation. The young master's end, Mrs. Black, had all evidently Been preparing for Exhibition. They were fine, stout, blooming Awkward creatures with shining Faces and straight combed, Though rebellious looking hair While a smart cap, red eyes And sharp face bespoke the Sufferings of the baby. Altogether they formed what is Politely called an uncommon Fine family. They all made bows and curtsies, Walked with their toes in, stood With their fingers in their mouths And in short were a very fine family. Of course they were much commended And caressed by their new relations Till the entrance of Mr. Black Turned the attention into another channel. Mr. Black was the only one Of the family on whom the phenomenon Of a carriage in four had Produced no visible effect. He entered ill-dressed, overheated And with a common, even vulgar air, Though in reality he was Rather a good-looking man. Mrs. Sinclair had expected Something of a sin At meeting with her brother, but He seemed to have no thoughts Of anything of the kind, for He received his sister with that Look and manner of plain, hearty Welcome, which showed that anything Of fine feeling would be completely Thrown away, yet his greeting Was sufficiently affectionate in its Own blunt, homely kind. It is a long time since You and I have met. Sally said He as he seated himself beside His sister with a child On each knee, but you have Kept your looks well to be sure You haven't had so large a share Of the evils of life as I Have had. Looking round With evident pride and exaltation On his offspring and affecting To Psy at the same time, Mrs. Sinclair shook her head Inside, too, but her Psy Was a much better got-up Psy than her brothers. It said, or was intended To say, heaven only knows What I have suffered for that one. Mrs. Black seemed to understand It, for she said with a look Of sympathy, I'm sure an only Child must be a great misfortune And we have great reason to be Thankful, Mr. Black, that so many Of ours have been spared. Then beckoning one of her daughters She whispered some instructions To her, accompanied with a key. The young lady left the room, and In a few minutes the yellow-haired Laddie entered, bearing a Massive silver trach, conveying The richest of cakes and the Strongest and sweetest of wines. As Mrs. Sinclair threw back Her bonnet to partake of the Her uncle regarded her with More earnestness than good Breeding, then glanced all round On his own offspring. I'm trying if I can make out A likeness betwixt your daughter And my brat said he to his Sister, but I don't think she Has much of a black face. She is thought to resemble Her father's family more than Mine, replied Mrs. Sinclair, Coloring deeply and looking rather Displeased. None of them That I have ever seen return Mr. Black. Her father, if I Remember right, had light hair And a flat face, and There is no end to arguing upon Resemblances interrupted Mrs. Sinclair, rising hastily. The general expression is sometimes Very strong when every feature is Different, and she was preparing To depart when one of the Children who was looking out at A window exclaimed, here's bell And the major, and to depart And the major was declared to be Impossible, so Mrs. Sinclair Though fretting at the delay Was obliged to await the entrance Of the lovers. Fortunately, Miss Bell had note while at Duties to perform for she was Dressed for the major in a Fashionable gown made by Miss Scrimp skirt of Tatleton From a pattern of Miss Gorwells in Edinburgh who had Got it from Miss Fleecewell Of London who had had hers direct Them Chef D'oeuvre of Paris. Miss Bell therefore Felt no disheartening doubts as To her appearance, but firmly Relying on the justness of her Proportions, and the orthodox Length of her waist and breadth Of her shoulders, and strong in The consciousness of being flounced And hemmed up to the knees she Boldly entered, followed by Her betrothed. Miss Isabella Black was really a very pretty Girl. She had a pretty figure, A pretty complexion, a pretty Bonnet, a pretty shawl, pretty Boots, and a pretty watch. But Over all this prettiness was Diffused an intolerable air of Folly, affectation, and conceit Which completely marred the Effective her charms. Major Waddell was a very Passable sort of person for a Naboth. He had a dingy Bronze complexion, tawny Eyes, tolerable teeth, and a Long wrinkle smirking baboonish Why, Belle, we were afraid you had Run away with the Major, said Mr. Black facetiously, addressing His daughter on her entrance. That is a very odd speech, I think, Papa, to one in my situations. Said Miss Belle, affecting to Look much disconcerty. Come, come, here are no strangers So there need be no secrets. It is pretty well known that if You don't run away with the Major, The Major will run away with you Some of these days. Here, Mr. Black laughed, and Mrs. Black Laughed, and all the masters And Mrs. Black laughed loud and Long. While in the general Laughed the fair-bright as if Overwhelmed with confusion, took Her cousin aside, and whispered This is a very awkward scrape I Am brought into by Papa's Bluntness. It certainly was My intention to have announced The matter to my aunt and you At a proper time, but not just At present. So I must request Mr. Rossville. It is so very Impleasant to be the talk of the whole county Upon an affair of this kind That the Major and I had resolved To have it kept as quiet as Possible. It was only yesterday He communicated it to Sir William Waddell, and he has not yet Mentioned it to Lord Fairacre Or any of his other relations. Mrs. St. Clair was too impatient To be gone, to allow any Father latitude for the lovers To show off, but was again In the midst of leave-taking. Much Was said about having a longer visit Of taking a family dinner, of spending A few days, of leaving Miss St. Clair To spend a little time and get Acquainted with her cousins. And Mrs. St. Clair could only disengage Herself from this well-meant hospitality By promising to take the earliest Opportunity of repeating Her visit. I trust I may be excused from Returning this visit, said Miss Bell, with the look of modest As in my situation, I go nowhere At present. Escorted by Mr. Black and the Major, and followed by the whole family Mrs. and Miss St. Clair resumed Their places in the carriage And were soon driven beyond The precincts of Bellevue. Their next destination was to the House of the Miss Black in the County town, and there They were accordingly driven. End of Section 11 Section 12 Of The Inheritance by Susan Edmund Stone Farrier This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Volume 1 Chapter 12 Lulled in the countless Chambers of the Brain Our thoughts are linked By many a hidden chain Awake but one, and lo What myriads rise Each stamps its Each image As the other flies Each as the various avenues Of sense, delight Or sorrow to the soul Dispense, brightens Or fades, yet all With magic art Control the latent fibers Of the heart, pleasures Of memory. There are few minds So callous as to revisit The scenes of their childhood Experiencing some emotion And whether these scenes lie In the crowded city Amidst all the course and Ordinary objects of vulgar life Or in the lonely valley With its green hills and its gliding stream The same feelings swell The heart as the thoughts Of the past rush over it For they speak to us Of the careless days of our childhood Of the gay dreams Of our youth, of the transient Pleasures of our prime Of the faded joys of our old age They speak to us Of parents now sleeping in the dust Of playfellows In a far distant land Of companions altered Or alienated Of friends become as strangers Of love changed Into indifference They speak to us it may be Of time misspent Of talents misapplied Of warnings neglected Of blessings despised Of peace departed They may speak to us Per chance of God's holy law Slighted of his precepts Contempt of himself Forsaken of hearts Alas not purified And renewed by that Grace whose aid They never sought But like the wasted volcano Parched and blasted in Their own unholy fires There are scenes all may have Viewed than those on which Their eyes first opened But in them we behold Only the inanimate objects Of nature, which however They may charm the senses Or fill the imagination Yet want that deep And powerful interest Which seems entwined with Our existence and which Such powerful habitation And a name so powerful A mastery over us Something to there is Of solemn thought in returning To a father's house Whether that father's arms Are open to receive His long absent child Or whether the eye That would have welcomed And the tongue that would Have blessed us are now Mouldering in the grave Are the wild tumultuous waves That roll over The human mind and obliterate Many of its fairest characters Its fondest collections But still The indelible impression Of a parent's love Remains impressed upon the heart Even when steeped in guilt Or seared in crime One spot, one little spot Will still be found Consecrated to the purest The holiest of earthly affections. It was with these mingled emotions Mrs. Sinclair found herself At the door of that mansion She had quitted 33 years before. It was the house in which She had first seen the light Where her parents had dwelt And where she had left them Surrounded by a numerous family But all were gone, save the brother She had just seen Her sisters now its soul tenants. Even the most artificial characters Still retain some natural feelings. And as Mrs. Sinclair Crossed the threshold of her Once happy home And the thoughts of the past Rushed over her, she exclaimed With a burst of anguish Would to God I have never left it. And throwing herself upon a seat She wept without control. There is something in real emotion That always carries conviction along with it Although well accustomed to the Ebullitions of her mother's character Mrs. Sinclair saw and felt The depth of her present feelings And sought by her tender And affectionate sympathy To soften her sense of sorrow. But with a look and gesture Expressive only of abhorrence Her mother repelled her from her. At that moment a lady approached And throwing herself into her arms Mrs. Sinclair sobbed in bitterness of Spirit while her sister mingled Her tears with hers. Miss Black was the first to regain Her composure and she said in a voice Which though still tremulous with emotion Was yet soft and sweet. I love those feelings, my dear Sarah They are so natural. You miss all those you left behind And you are thinking what a happier meeting This might have been had it pleased God to have spared them to us But I trust there is a happy meeting Yet in store for us. Oh no, no, sobbed Mrs. Sinclair Almost convulsively as she leaned Her head on her sister's shoulder. My dear Sarah said Miss Black In a tone of tender reproach Accompanied by an affectionate embrace But calm let me take you to our poor Mary Who cannot go to you. Mrs. Sinclair raised her head And made an effort to subdue her emotion As she suffered herself to be led To the apartment where her youngest And favorite sister was. When she had left home she had left her A lovely romping child of five years old With laughing blue eyes and curling Flaxen hair and this image of infant beauty She had ever treasured in her memory Though reason had told her the reality Had long since fled. But alas reason can but imperfectly Picture to us the slow and silent Ravages of time and outside of her sister Mrs. Sinclair felt as much shocked As though the change had been the metamorphose Of an instant instead of the gradual Progress of years of suffering and decay. Imagination indeed could not have Pictured to itself art so affecting As the contrast thus presented By a glance of the mind. Mrs. Sinclair thought only of the gay Rosie, phallic sim creature whose fairy Form seemed even yet to bound before Her eyes or hang round her neck in Infantine fondness and on that self Same spot where last she had parted from Her she now beheld her a monument of premature Decay, pale, motionless and Paralytic. For a moment she shrunk From the half living half beatified Looking being with that instinctive Horror with which the worldly mind recoils From all that reminds it of perishable Nature. A faint streak of red Tinge to her sister's shallow cheek And a tear glistened in her soft blue eye And her heart seemed to swell, perhaps With some almost forgotten feelings of humiliation At her own infirmities. But when Mrs. Sinclair again looked The slight hectic had fled The tear was dried and the sigh was checked God's will be done, my sister said she With a look and accent of meek and holy Resignation. Mrs. Sinclair could not speak But she threw herself on her sister's Neck and wept. Good truth, meanwhile Had stood aloof her heart oppressed with sorrow And her eyes filled with tears as she Contrasted her mother's feelings towards Her sisters with those she had testified Towards her. And the painful Conviction that she was not beloved Forced itself upon her in all the bitterness Such a discovery was calculated to excite At length the agitation of the meeting Between the sisters began to subside And Miss Black approaching her niece Tenderly embraced her and led her to her sister Here is a stranger who has been too long Overlooked, said she, but once seen Will not be soon forgotten. And she gently Untied her bonnet and looked on her with Eyes of delighted affection. Her Aunt Mary Sweetly welcomed her and also regarded her With an expression of love and tenderness Such as good truth felt she never had Read even in her mother's eye. There was indeed little resemblance Between Mrs. Sinclair and her sisters Either in mind or appearance. Elizabeth The eldest belonged to that class Who can neither be called handsome nor ugly But are yet sometimes thought both. She had regular features and mild Sensible countenance but she was pale And thin and to casual observers Had altogether an air of mediocrity Which in fact was rather indicative Of the consistency and uniformity Of her character. She was a Christian Of all things and it's simple An ostentatious spirit pervaded all Her looks, words and actions and gave To them a charm which in her station No worldly acquirements could have imparted. Her sister was many years younger And in spite of sickness and suffering Still retained traces of great beauty Every feature was perfect but the dim Eye, the pale cheek and the colorless Could now only claim pity where once They had challenged admiration. Yet neither pain nor sickness had been Able to chase the seraphic expression Which beamed on her countenance Like sunshine amid ruins. It was the look of one already purified From all earthly passions but who Still looked with tenderness on the Frailties of her fellow mortals. Mrs. Sinclair seemed little gratified By the fondest her sisters testified For her daughter. She remained silent And abstracted with her eyes fixed on The memorials of former days. For everything remained in the same primitive Order as when she had left them. And everything told some long forgotten Tale or roused some sad though Slumbering recollection. She fixed Her eyes on some foreign shells Which decorated the old fashioned Chimney peace and what a train of Associations did these mute and Insignificant objects conjure up. They were the gift of one who had Loved her in early youth and who Had brought them to her all that he Had to bring from afar and dearly Had she prized them for them she Had loved the giver but he was A poor and friendless orphan boy And she became the wife of an Earl's son. All may choose their own path in life But who can tell to where that path May lead. The lot indeed is cast Into the lap but the whole disposing Thereof is of the Lord. Mrs. Sinclair had chosen that of Ambition and for thirty years she Had dragged out life in exile, Poverty and obscurity while the one She had forsaken that of faithful And disinterested affection would Have led her to this summit of Being wealth and honor. The poor despised sailor boy had Distinguished himself for his skill And bravery and in the honorable Career of his profession had won For himself a noble fortune and a Name that would descend to posterity. This Mrs. Sinclair knew for she Had heard of his heroic exploits With feelings of the bitterest Regret and self-reproach and it Was those feelings which spread Their gloom over her countenance As she looked on the tokens of His youthful love and thought of The valiant high-minded being she Had bartered for a shadow of Greatness. She withdrew her eyes And they fell upon a venerable Family Bible from when she had Been accustomed to hear her mother Read a chapter morning and Evening to her family. She Recalled as though it had been Yesterday the last evening she Had passed in her father's house. The figure of her mother was Before her. Her voice sounded In her ears the words Recurred to her then as they Had often done since. It was The last chapter of Ecclesiastes Unrivaled for its beauty and Sublimity by ought that prophet Ever spoke or poet wrote Beginning with that touching Exhortation. Remember now Thy Creator in the days of Thy youth while the evil Days come not nor the years Draw not when thou Shalt say, I have no Pleasure in them. And ending with that awful Assurance for God shall bring Every work into judgment with Every secret thing whether It be good or whether it be Evil. Mrs. St. Clair uttered An involuntary groan and Closed her eyes. You see much to Remind you of the days that Are gone, my dear sisters of Miss Black Tenderly, but First impression is over. You Will love to look upon those relics As we do for the sake of Those who loved us. Never, ah, never Exclaim Mrs. St. Clair starting Up and going to the window. Everything here is tortured to Me. The very air suffocates Me. She threw open the window And leant out, but it was Only to behold other mementos Of days past and gone. She Looked upon the little garden, Of childish gamble, it lay In the full blaze of a Meridian sun, and all was fair And calm. An old labyrinth Tree still hung its golden Blossoms over a rustic Seat at one corner of the Garden, and the time since She had sat there and decked Herself in its fantastic Garlands seemed as nothing. She remembered to win after A long childish illness her Father had carried her in The garden with what ecstasy She had breathed the fresh air And looked on the blue sky and Plucked the gaudiest flowers. It was on such a day as this Thought she. The air is As fresh now as it was then. The sky is as fair, the flowers As sweet, but my father ah, Were he still alive? Would he Thank heaven now as he did Then for having preserved his Child? And again the bitter Drops fell from her eyes as Sickening from the view the cord Of feeling had been stretched too High to regain its ordinary Pitch without an effort. It Is sometimes easier to break the Chain than to loosen it. Mrs. St. Clair felt her mind Untuned for ordinary Communing, and she therefore Took an abrupt leave of her Sisters with a promise of Returning soon when her nerves Should be stronger. Herring Through the crowd, collected Equipment, she threw herself into It as if afraid of being Recognized, and called Impatiently to her daughter to Follow. The postillions cracked Their whips, the crowd fell back, And the proud pageant rattled And glittered along till lost To the gaze of the in-being And admiring throng. End of section 12. Section 13 Of The Inheritance By Susan Edmund Mr. St. Clair. This LibriVox recording is in the Public domain. Volume 1, Chapter 13 Nothing is lost on him Who sees with an eye That feeling gave. For him there's a story In every breeze, and a Picture in every way Song. Mrs. St. Clair and her daughter Proceeded for some time In profound silence. The former seemed plunged In painful meditation. The latter felt grieved and mortified At her mother's caprice An unkindness to her. The first thing which roused Mrs. St. Clair was the view Of Rossville Castle, Rising proudly above the woods Which embouzmed it, and as She looked, gradually her brow Cleared her eye brightened, And her countenance regained Its usual expression. She showed my love, said she Taking her daughter's hand. I've almost forgot you today, But your own heart will enable You to conceive What mine must have suffered, And she sighed deeply. Yes, answered Mrs. St. Clair In sub-agitation, I can concede That you have felt much, But I cannot conceive why. Oh, Mama, what had I done that you should have Known you like a venomous reptile? My dear Gertrude, what an idea That is the mere Cornage of your brain. How can you allow yourself To be so carried away By your imagination? Come, my dear, let us have No more such foolish fancies. Strange indeed it would be Continued she, as the Park gate was thrown open To receive them. And anyone to cast off The fair heiress of this Princely domain. But, however strange, her daughter Felt it was, so, and she remained Silent. Mrs. St. Clair resumed, Apropos, Gertrude, When you are Lady of Rossville, You must build me a little Tiny cottage on yarn, Lovely green bank where I may Live quietly as a humble Cottager while you play The great lady. Promise me, Gertrude, that I shall Have a crop from you, a butt And a bend, a cow's grass And a kale yard. There was something so forced And unnatural in her mother's Sudden gayity that Mrs. St. Clair Accustomed as she was to all The inequalities of her temper Felt almost frightened at it And she was at a loss how to Reply. So you won't promise me, Gertrude, Even a humble independence Which perhaps you are right To be cautious, Lear's daughter Spoke him fair, and after all Turned him out of doors And why should I expect more From you? Oh, Mama, exclaimed Mrs. St. Clair Bursting into tears, do not kill Me with such cruel words. Is it so cruel, then, In a mother to crave a pittance From the bounty of her child? It is cruel to doubt that I Would give you all. Perhaps where all this Mind tomorrow I could not be More mistress of it than you Should be. So you think at present, Gertrude, But you know not, as I do, The mutability of the human mind. You will form other ties, Other connections. You will marry, and your mother Will be forgotten, perhaps Forsaken. You will marry, cried she, with Increased violence. To the artifices of a Colonel Delmore, a needy, desperate Spendthrift. I see already he is paying court To the future heiress, and once The wife of that designing extravagant Man, you will have nothing To bestow. Shocked and amazed at her mother's Violence, Miss St. Clair Saw to tranquilize her By assurances that she Was mistaken in supposing Colonel Delmore had any such Views, when Mrs. St. Clair Interrupted her, promise me Then that you will never become His wife. There is always something revolting To an open, ingenuous mind In being fettered by promises, But there was something more Than even that natural of Pugnance to make Gertrude shrink From thus binding herself To her mother's will, and she Remained silent. But the deep blush that burned She spoke more eloquently Than words Mrs. St. Clair Regarded her with a piercing Look, then exclaimed in a Transport of anger, and is it Even so, and all that I have Done and suffered is? Then suddenly stopping she added In a milder tone Gertrude My wish is to save you From the dangers with which You are already surrounded, promise Me at least that you will not Marry until you have attained The age of twenty-one, that you Will never marry without my consent And until you have provided For my old age. Mama said Mrs. St. Clair With a calmness and self-possession Which bespoke her determination, I hear promise that I will not Marry without your consent Before the age of twenty-one, And until I have provided for you As becomes my mother, More I cannot, I dare not, I will not promise. Then with that I must be satisfied, Said Mrs. St. Clair, as the carriage Stopped at the castle door, And having alighted she entered The house while her daughter Stood some minutes on the lawn Inhaling the mild freshness Of a west wind laden with The balmy sweets of opening Buds and blossoms. Insensibly she strolled on, And gradually the impression Of the unpleasant scene she had Just had with her mother wore Away beneath the calming influence Of nature's charms. The clear, cloudless sky, The lulling flow of the river, The bright green woods, And all the luxuriance of Early summer. Mrs. St. Clair wandered on Till she reached a little Secluded spot she had not yet seen On the top of a green knoll That rose gradually from the river Stood part of an ancient building Of an irregular and picturesque form. But now almost covered With ivy. Some wild cherry or what In the language of the country Or called green trees Grew almost close to it. They were now white with blossoms And formed a fanciful contrast To the emblems of age and decay With which they were combined. The ground betwixt the river And the ruin appeared to have been Originally a garden or orchard. And some old apple trees Will remain whose mossy trunks And shriveled branches For evidence of their antiquity While here and there a cluster Of rich pink blossoms Showed that life was in the leaf For still between The fits of falling snow Appeared the streaky green. Some aged weeping willows Dip their silvery foliage In the dark waters As they glided slowly And silently along. A scene where the contemplative mind Might have mused over The mournful record of time And things and people Past and gone with their joys And their sorrows, where the youthful Imagination might have pictured To itself some ideal paradise Yet to be realized. Ah, thought Gertrude How willingly would I renounce All the pomp of greatness To dwell here in lowly affection With one who would love me And whom I could love in return How strange that I who could cherish The very worm that crawls Beneath my foot have no one Being to whom I can utter The thoughts of my heart. No one on whom I can bestow Its best affections. She raised her eyes swimming in tears To heaven, but it was in The poetical enthusiasm of feeling Not in the calm spirit Of devotion. She was Suddenly roused by hearing someone Approach and presently Colonel Delmore Forcing his way through some Wild tangle bushes Hastened towards her with an appearance Of the greatest delight. That sight of him, the thoughts Of her mother's warning rushed to her recollection The dislike she had expressed The suspicions she harbored The promise she would have exacted All seemed to give him A sort of inexplicable interest In her eyes. She colored deeply and the Consciousness she had done so Added to her confusion. I have to apologize to you, said Colonel Delmore, for thus Literally forcing my way to you. Lindsay and I were practicing archery When I described you. To see you and not to fly to you Was impossible. Had Briarious himself Opposed my passage, so leaving Edward master of the field, I winged My way to you like one of my own Arrows, but I fear I Startled you. Miss St. Clair felt as though she were acting In direct disobedience to her mother And thus meeting even Accidentally with the man she had Just heard denounced by her In great embarrassment she begged He would resume his exercise And she was moving away when Colonel Delmore caught her hand And in a lone tone Said, do not stir From hence unless you wish to Encounter Miss Pratt's Conditions, she is beating about here I saw her as I came along But I trust she will lose Scent, do remain till That dangerous past Almost equally averse to encounter Miss Pratt at any time But more particularly at present She suffered Colonel Delmore To seat her on a little mossy Knoll and throwing himself On the grass at her feet Be this your throne And behold your subject In a half-serious, half-sport of tone Then raising his eyes to hers He repeated Miss St. Clair tried to reply In a strain of batonage But the words died on her lips And coloring still more deeply She remained silent At that moment Mr. Lindsay Appeared but ere he had time To address her, the shrill voice Of Miss Pratt was heard And presently she broke in Aha, so you're all here Upon my word here's a meeting Of friends, it puts me in Mind of a scene in a play Where all the lovers meet to run Away with pretty Mistress Anne Page And the one cries mum And the other cries budget Two excellent words said Colonel Delmore Looking much provoked Of course you understand their meaning Be silent and be gone Two very impertinent words In my opinion said Miss Pratt Seating herself beside Gertrude And to tell you the truth I have no great notion of your mums There's a family in this county All so tongue-tied The white calls their house the mummery And by the by Mr. Edward I really think you may cry mum Any day you're grown Very silent of late Approved I am growing wiser I suppose answered he laughingly According to some great authority Who I think says most men speak From not knowing how to be silent The saying of some Dog blockhead I suspect Said Colonel Delmore still evidently Out of humor Indeed I think so too Colonel cried Miss Pratt Anybody can hold their tongue But it's not everybody that can speak Not everybody that ought to speak Or at least ought to be listened to Said Colonel Delmore Contemptuously turning from her And addressing some words in French In a low tone to Gertrude While Miss Pratt gabbled on Bless me, what a tear I've got in my gown There's really an ill luck I've seen with some accident That's all I've got By hunting after you youngsters And in the twinkling of an eye Her huswife was out Her thimble on her finger And her needle flying through all the intricacies Of a very bad cross-tear What's this we were talking about Oh, about people holding their tongues I really wish these birds would hold theirs But I'm perfectly Dieved with their chattering Sh, sh, shaking her All at a gold finch I really think young people Should be made to hold their tongues And only speak when they're spoken to Was that a fish that leaped in the water just now? What a pity, but one of you Had had a fishing rod in your hands Instead of these senseless bows and arrows It would have been some diversion To have seen you hook a nice three-pound weight Collar, trout And really old people Should be cautious of speaking They're sometimes rather slow, you know I can listen to anybody, bless me How the wind's blowing these blossoms about I'm like to be blinded with them Come, you shall listen to me Then, said Mr. Lindsey, as he caught Some of the falling blossoms While I apostrophized them in some pretty Lines of herits Two blossoms Fair pledges of a fruitful tree Why do you fall so fast Your date is not so past But you may stay here yet a while To blush and gently smile At last. What were you born to be An hour or half's delight And so to bid good night Twas pity nature brought you forth Merely to show your worth And lose you quite But you are lovely leaves where we May read how soon things have Their end, though ne'er so brave And after they have shown their pride Like you a while they glide Into the grave Miss Pratt testified great Impatience while the verses were Repeating, but the purpose was answered The time has passed while the fracture Was repairing and afraid of more Poetry for which she had a mortal antipathy She readily assented to Miss St. Clair's Proposal of returning home I can tell you one thing, my dear Whispered she to Gertrude That mum should be the watch We're here today, a certain person With a wink at Colonel Delmore Is but a younger brother and not The thing he can be very pleasant When he pleases, but take my word For it he's not to ride the Ford Upon, but bless me, I had no notion It was so late, and I have a bit of Lace to run upon my gown before dinner And away ran Miss Pratt To her toilet while Gertrude Retired to her chamber to ruminate On the events of the day End of Section 13 Section 14 Of the inheritance by Susan Edmunds-Tune Barrier, this LibriVox Recording is in the public Domain Volume 1 Chapter 14 Keep, therefore, A true woman's Eye, and love me still But know not why So hast thou The same reason still To dot upon me ever Old Madrigal That she who deliberates Is lost is a remark That has been so often verified That although there are innumerable Instances of women Deliberating to be saved Yet when a lover suspects The object of his wishes To be debating the question of To love or not to love He feels pretty secure That it will be decided in his favor At least so felt Colonel Delmore As he marked the thoughtful cast Of Miss St. Clair's countenance When she entered the drawing room Before dinner She had indeed that day Deliberated more than she had Ever done in the whole course Of her life before Though her deliberations had not yet Assumed any distinct form By nature, tender and Affectionate in her disposition She was likewise High-spirited and impatient Of unjust control And the situation In which she was now placed Was calculated to call forth All the latent energies Of her character There are few times In the course of life Of her pleasure And of her tenderness Engagement that we Defend Which is natural To desire To want To love Miss St. Clair certainly Could not help wishing That she had not been forbidden To love her cousin For although he had not Absolutely declared himself her lover He had said more than enough To convince her that he was deeply In love and that the happiness Of his life hung upon Her decision Of her mother's prejudice against him So unjust, so unaccountable It seemed next to impossible For her to remain In a state of indecision She must either adopt Her mother's sentiments And hate, fly, abjure him Or she must yield To her own inclinations And listen to him, look on him And love him In this state Of mental embarrassment Is not possible for anyone So ingenuous to conceal What was passing in her mind But those who were most Interested in observing her Construed her behavior Each according to their own Wishes In her constrained manner And averted eyes Whenever Colonel Delmore addressed her Miss St. Clair flattered herself She saw symptoms Of that distrust and dislike Ever to inculcate While he for the present Felt satisfied in the consciousness That he was at least not an object Of indifference But it was impossible For any ruminations To be carried on long In the presence of Miss Pratt Whose own ruminations never lasted Longer than till she had made Herself mistress of the dresses Of the company or the dishes On the table Having finished her scrutiny of the former She addressed Miss St. Clair You were very soon home today I think you must really have Paid fashionable visits to your friends To be sure your sisters Is not a house to stay long in Poor Miss Mary what a pretty Creature she was once And as Mary as a Greek But she has taken rather a religious Turn now to be sure When people have not the use of their Legs what can they do Sure we should be thankful That have all our faculties Except the faculty Of being religious said Mr. Lindsey with a smile A certain degree of religion I think Extremely proper said Miss Pratt In a by way of serious manner But I'm just afraid it's rather Overdone not that I mean To say anything against The Miss Blacks for I Sure you have a very high respect For them and all Mr. Ramsey Did you find him in a tolerable Tune I hope I was afraid of trespassing Too far on Lord Rossville's Goodness by detaining his Carriage and servants and therefore Delayed visiting my uncle Till another opportunity That was being extremely Considered indeed began his Lordship but as usual Was cut short by Miss Pratt Bless me what's the use of carriages And servants but to wait If you had played your cards well You would have gone first to your uncle An old man in a nightcap Worth good seventy thousand pound And as crosses two sticks Is not to be sneezed at As Anthony White says But there's the gong Oh Lord Rossville I wish you would Really get a bell for I declare There's no hearing one self speak For that gong or what would you Think of a trumpet Bells and gongs are grown so common That Anthony White's going to Get a trumpet Being already provided with a Trumpeter it is quite proper That Mr. White should have a trumpet Said Colonel Delmore Considering with what deadly intentions We assemble at the dinner table Said Mr. Lindsay I really think A war like instrument a much More appropriate symbol than a Peaceful fasting mat and Sounding bell indeed the organ Of destructiveness is always So strong with me at this hour And I feel so much of the fee Fum about me that I Can scarcely ask you to trust Yourself with me any good Humidry gave his arm to Miss Pratt As she was pattering away to the dining Room with rather a discomfort To look by herself And now for the pride, pomp And circumstance of glorious war As the party seated themselves At the splendid board But Miss Pratt's mortification Never could be made by any possible Means to endure much longer Than the shock of a shower bath And by the time the dishes were Uncovered Richard was himself again Colonel Delmore what's That before you I think it looks Like fricked seed chicken I'll thank you for some of it And Colonel Delmore with the most Indifferent air as to Miss Pratt's Once and talking all the while To Miss St. Clair sent her apart Which did not suit her taste Let us take that back said she To the servant with my compliments To Colonel Delmore and I'll be obliged To him for a wing Colonel don't you know it's the fashion Now when you help Gamer Poultry To ask pray do you run or fly Meaning do you choose leg or wing There was a good scene at Anthony White's one day that lady Puffendorf was there you know She's so asthmatic she can hardly walk So when she chose chicken pray Then says Anthony do you run or fly Of course a flying titter Ran round the company Lord Rossville did you hear that Colonel Delmore remember I fly I shall have great pleasure In assisting your flight said he Within ironical smile pray When may we expect to see Miss Pratt take wing Is that that you may have A shot at me with your bow and arrow I thought indeed you Looked as if you were rather Bent upon wounding hearts Than hearts today you understand The difference don't you Miss St. Clair Who only colored a reply And even Colonel Delmore seemed Disconcerted or never mind Moms the word you know with a provoking Wink only advise all young Ladies who value their hearts to cry Budget to gentlemen with bows And arrows. Lord Rossville's Ideas fortunately never could Keep pace with Miss Pratt's tongue He had now only overtaken her At the run and fly and was busy Preparing with all the powers of his Mind a caveat against The use of Kant terms to Begin with a quotation from Lord Chesterfield and to be followed up By a full declaration of his own Sentiments on the subject In short his mode of proceeding Was something like bringing out A field piece to knock down a fly Which in the meantime had perched Itself on the very mouth of the canon Unconscious of the formidable Actility that was preparing against her Then buzzed away Let me help you To some asparagus my lord Helping herself largely in the meantime Very fine it is though rather Out of season now it has been long Over at Whitehall but who can Help asparagus with asparagus Tongues. Anthony White says If ever he's prevailed upon to Go into Parliament it will be for The sole purpose of bringing in Three bills for the relief of the rich One of them is to be an act for the Suppression of asparagus tongues And others to make it the only For a cook to twist the legs of game Or force a turkey to carry its head Under its wing. And the third is But here Lord Rossville's indignation Got the better of his good breeding And even overcame the more Tarty operations of his mind And before Anthony White's third bill Could be brought forward he exclaimed Mr. Anthony White bring bills Into Parliament. Pray Miss Have you any authority for supposing Or insinuating that Mr. White Has the most distant shadow of an Idea of attempting to procure A seat in Parliament. If he Has I can only say I have been Most grossly misinformed if he Has not it is highly improper in You or in any of his relations Or friends who the world will Naturally conclude or in his confidence To start such a supposition It is a serious a very serious Matter to tamper with a gentleman's Name and politics more particularly In the troublesome and Fractious times in which we live Even Miss Pratt was for an Instant discomforted by the solemn Indignation of this address But she quickly rallied and whispering To Mr. Lindsey he is very Billious today his eyes are like Borrowed gooseberries honest man She resumed bless me Lord Rossville one would think I Had spoken high treason but I was Only joking Mr. White I can Assure you has too much good sense To think of going into Parliament If he had had a mind that way He might have been in long ago I'm told from pretty good authority He might carry the county any day He liked here the Earl Absolutely gasped in the attempt To bring up words long and strong Enough to emulate the presumption Of Miss Pratt and Anthony White I can assure you both Lord Pun the down and Sir Thomas Turnabout spoke seriously to Mr. White about it some time ago Anthony says my Lord if you wish To sit you've only to stand Nothing could be stronger than that You know Bave my Lord says he I believe I would have to lie In the first place very good Wasn't it Anthony's always ready With his answer I assure you If he was in Parliament he would Keep his own is there anybody Talked of in opposition to Robert Ask Colonel Delmore as if he Had not even deigned to hear Miss Oppropos I had a letter from him This morning indeed Exclaimed the Earl with great earnestness I'm rather surprised that such a Piece of information should have Been only communicated to me In this accidental manner I have Been anxiously looking for letters For Mr. Delmore for some days What does he say with regard to This sitting of Parliament and does He point at any probable time For coming north I merely glanced At his letter answered Colonel With an air of indifference it seemed Filled as usual with politics And I am no politician I'm not so sure about that Said Miss Pratt in an undertone And with a most provoking Significant look but you shall Hear what he says Smith Turning to his servant you will find Some letters upon the writing table In my dressing room bring them here I hope you don't leave your love Letters lying about that way Colonel Cry the incorrigible Pratt Hear you if I was a young lady I would take care how I corresponded With you you're not like Anthony White Who keeps all his letters like grim death The letters were brought in Colonel Delmore taking his brothers From amongst them glanced His eye over it and read in a Skimming manner animated and Protracted debate admirable speech Legs two hours and a quarter Immense applause one hundred and Ninety-seven of majority glorious Result opposition fairly Comforted etc etc He then read aloud Pray inform the Earl there is no Longer a doubt as to the dissolution Of parliament next session We must therefore prepare to take the Field immediately Lord P And serve J.T. intend to oppose As I understand and to bring Forward some tool of their own But I have little fear as to The result I now only wait The passing of the road bill And the discussion on the resumption Of cash payments to be off for Scotland My uncle may therefore Expect me in the course of a few days When I trust we shall be able to Make a tolerable muster. P.S. I see a major Waddell Has lodged claim for enrollment Do you know anything of him Major Waddell repeated the Earl Putting his hand to his forehead In amusing attitude as if Endeavoring to recollect him Major Waddell submissive St. Clair in her softest manner Is a gentleman of large fortune Lately returned from India Air I understand to serve William Waddell and upon The point of marriage with Anissa Mine his vote I am sure Luckily before Mrs. St. Clair Could commit herself a major Waddell's vote Ms. Pratt dashed in I, Ms. Bell Black Going to be married to Major Waddell Upon my words she has fallen Upon her feet that will be A disappointment to many a one For I assure you the major's a prize And I know three ladies he was Supposed to be looking after Even went so far as to present One of them with a very handsome Paradise plume. That I know to be A fact for I was staying in the house At the time and there was a great debate Whether she should have accepted it Before he had made his proposals I, I was told that Ms. Bell Had said lately in a company That she never would marry any man Who couldn't give her silver Means and corners. He's very well Connected to let me see His mother was a bog and his father A Waddell of the Waddell Mains Family so he has good blood Both ways. All this was very agreeable To Mrs. St. Clair it was giving Consequence to her family which Was an advantage to herself Ms. Pratt's scribble Was therefore music to her ear And while she gave her whole attention To that Colonel Delmore contrived To render his conversation No less interesting to her daughter Whose deliberations like both Fellows doubts were gradually assuming A more decided form. For in love as in jealousy It will commonly be found That to be once in doubt is once To be resolved. As the ladies rose from table Lord Rossville who had evidently Been struggling for some time to give Uterance to some exquisite idea Called Ms. Pratt just as she had The door they all stopped. Ms. Pratt said his lordship Making an effort to subdue Any appearance of visibility. Ms. Pratt I think your friend Who received the present of a plume From Major Waddell will have No great cause to plume herself Upon that. As from your account It can no longer be a feather in her cat. The earl was too much elated With this sally to think of Lord Chesterfield and he indulged Myself in a laugh tolerably loud And intolerably long. Ha ha ha very good indeed Cried Ms. Pratt I must let Anthony White And Lord pun me down Hear that very well indeed Poor Ms. Kitty fancy Flame as you say it will be No great feather in her cat now Poor so ha ha ha Lady Betty did you hear that Then pinching Gertrude's arms She whispered as Anthony White says It's a serious matter when Lord Chesterfield took on his man Ha ha ha very fair indeed And Ms. Pratt kept up a running laugh All the way to the drawing room End of Section 14 Section 15 Of The Inheritance By Susan Edmundsden-Farrier This LibriVox recording Is in the public domain Volume 1 Chapter 15 The pilot best of wins Does talk The peasant of his cattle The shepherd of his fleecy flock The soldier of his battle Theriot Stowe The expected dissolution Of parliament was all in favor Of the growing attachment Of the cousins Gertrude indeed Dried or thought she tried To avoid receiving the Attention of Colonel Delmore But in the thousand minute And almost imperceptible opportunities Which are forever Occuring where people dwell Under the same roof He found many occasions Of insinuating the ardor and Sincerity of his passion Yet in a manner so refined And unobtrusive That it would have seemed downright Prudery to have disclaimed His attentions Lord Rossville was Or what was the same thing That he was so overwhelmed With business that contrary To his usual practice He now always retired immediately After tea to his study There to con over the map And count over the roll Of the county and to frame The model of a circular letter Which was to surpass all the Circular letters that ever Had issued from a circular head Mrs. St. Clair was busy too She had begun to canvas With her brother and her uncle To bespeak their votes And had written to offer a visit To the latter the following day By the Earl's desire Lady Betty sat as usual At her little table With her rug, her novel, and her Fat favorite, Miss Pratt Gabbled and nodded, Mr. Lindsey Redd, Colonel Delmore And Gertrude alone seemed Unoccupied but how various Their employments whom the Lord deems idle. You are in an uncommon Quiescent state tonight Delmore said Mr. Lindsey Closing his book and rising Neither music nor billiards nor ennui Most wonderful Etre avec les gens qu'on aime Cela suffit Reveille le parler Ne le parlez point Auprès de tout est égal Replied he casting a look Towards Gertrude but affecting To address Miss Pratt Is it not so, Miss Pratt? To tell you the truth, Colonel answered She was some asperity When people speak French to me I always lay it down as a rule That they're speaking nonsense I'm sure there's words enough In plain English to say All that anybody has to say But they are too plain That is precisely my objection I am sure are aware And again he stole a glance At Miss St. Clair Combien de choses qu'on ne perçoit Que par sentiments aidant Il est impossible De rendre raison Now the French is the language Of sentiment, the English of reason Consequently it is most unreasonable In you, my dearest Pratt To insist upon expressing My sentiments in a plain Reasonable manner But come since you profess to be Insensible to sentiment Try whether you cannot prevail Upon Miss St. Clair to give us some music Music Reiterated Miss Pratt Fiddles sticks for any sake Let us have one night of peace and rest For I declare Lord Rossville Makes a perfect toil of music But indeed it's the same everywhere now There's not a house you go into But some of the family are musical I know one family where there's five grown-up daughters That all play upon the harp And such a tuning and stringing And thrumming goes on That I declare I get perfectly stupid Not only that, but as Anthony White says You used to be aware of your danger When you saw a piano Or a fiddle in a house But now you have music in all shapes In such contrivances There's musical glasses And musical clocks And musical snuff boxes But other day when I was at Lady Restalls I happened to want a thread In a hurry and was flying to her Workbox for it Stop, stop, says she And I'll give you something better than a thread So she locks up her box And sets it a-going And to be sure I thought It never would have done Tune after tune And isn't that a lovely waltz, says she Isn't that a sweet quadril Thanks, I, my friend, if you was mine I'd wrap your mouth and make you mine Your own business But I hope you got your thread Inquired Lady Betty Yes, yes, I got my thread at last But isn't it a hard case That one can't get a black silk thread If it was to save their life Without getting half a dozen tunes Into the bargain But that's not the most ridiculous part Boris, says she I've commissioned a walking cane For my lord from Paris The length of his toe without a stick And it is to play three waltzes Two quadrills, a hornpipe And the Grand Turk's march You'll be such an amusement, says she When he's walking with his friends To set his stick a-going Thanks, I, he'll be clever If ever he sets it a-going About my ears Miss Sinclair, my dear Have you no nice, nacky little Handy work that you could be doing at While we sit in chat Grilled fruit rising to fetch her work How I detest the stupid Vulgar industry of working ladies, Said Colonel Delmore Come, let me lead you to the music room And he took her hand What are you going to play? Asked Lady Betty Tibby Fowler answered Miss Pratt Miss Sinclair, my dear Did you ever hear Tibby Fowler And in her cracked voice She struck up that celebrated diddy Colonel Delmore, with an expression Miss Sinclair must immediately hurried Miss Sinclair to the adjourning room Leaving Miss Pratt to Carol away To Lady Betty and Fat Flora Much has been said of the power of music And all who have ears and souls Will admit that its influence Has not been exaggerated even by Its most enthusiastic votaries In every heart of sensibility Nature has implanted a chord Which, if rightly touched Will yield fine issue To the loftier or the gentler Passions of the mind Whether that chord vibrates Responsive to the peeling organ The spirit-stirring drum Or the nightingale's soft lay Some there are indeed To whom music is merely a science An assemblage of fine concords And discords, and who possessed Of all that skill and knowledge can impart Are yet strangers to those Mystic transports Whose movements are in the soul And which constitute the true charm Of melody. But Colonel Delmore Could not be said to belong to either Of those classes, or rather He partook somewhat of both. He was passionately fond of music And sang with much taste And expression, but it might be doubted Whether his was Lauchan Qui Ce sang Don Long. Be that as it may, he had hitherto In the various flirtations in which He had been engaged, found music A most useful auxiliary, and by much The safest, as well as the most elegant Medium for communicating his passion. It was therefore an invariable rule With Colonel Delmore to use other men's verse As well as other men's prose Instead of his own. For similar reasons He also preferred declaring his passion Either in French or Italian. And having read all the lighter works In these languages and being gifted With a good memory and a ready wit He was seldom at a loss for expressions Suited to each particular case. The words he selected for the present occasion Were those beautiful ones Flicé, Qui, V-Mira Mop, P-U, Flicé, Qui Père, Voi, Suspira, etc. When suddenly Miss Pratt burst in with Wished, wished, there's somebody coming That will make us all change our note I'm thinking. And while she spoke Spattered sheds and four with horses In a foam drove up which was recognized By its bearings to be that of Mr. Delmore Always bustling sensation and the family With the exception of Lord Rossville Had dropped in one by one to the music room Where Mr. Delmore was ushered in He was what many would have called A very fine-looking man tall and straight With handsome regular features Although somewhat resembling Lord Rossville Both in person and manners He paid his compliments, rather With the well-bred formality of the old school Than with the easy disengaged air Of a man of fashion and totally devoid Of that air of arm-pressed maw Towards Miss Sinclair which had marked The attentions of his brother from Their first meeting. In fact, Mr. Delmore seemed little Engrossed with any of the party But looked round as if in search of A far more interesting object than Anxiously inquired where Lord Rossville was But there an answer could be returned The Earl himself entered, and mutual pleasure Was testified by the uncle and nephew At sight of each other. Although upon ordinary occasions I confess I'm no friend of what Are termed unexpected pleasures Said his lordship, yet in the present instance My dear Robert, I own, I do not feel My pleasure at your arrival At all diminished by the unexpectedness Of your appearance. At the same time it would not have been a miss Perhaps to have apprised me of your Intention at this important time. Impossible, replied Mr. Delmore eagerly, Quite impossible. In fact, I set off the instant the house Rose, which was on Friday morning At half past five after a most Interesting debate on the paper currency Which I'm happy to tell you be carried By a majority of eighty-five. Bravo, exclaimed the Earl, and our road Bill is past, but how stands the county? Have you felt its pulse at all? I understand the brisk canvas has commenced In a certain quarter. I got a hint of that from Lord Wishton Which in fact induced me to set off Without a moment's delay. You acted wisely and well, said the Earl Delays are always dangerous, more especially Upon occasions such as the present. It's high time you had begun to canvas If you expect to succeed in your election. I can tell you interposed Miss Pratt With one of her sharp pithy glances At Colonel Delmore and Gertrude Who kept a little apart. And to judge by the blush and the smile Which occasionally flitted over her beautiful features As she sometimes bent her head to his whispers The conversation was of rather a more Interesting nature than what was Carrying on between the uncle and nephew. Miss Pratt's remark did not hit Either of them, and the latter resumed I'm told the opposite party give out They can already reckon upon 29 votes That I suspect is a ruse de guerre But still it shows the necessity Of our taking the field immediately Precisely my own sentiments exclaimed Lord Ross, Bill with delight As you justly observed there is not A moment to lose. Something might yet be done tonight Said Mr. Delmore looking at his watch Something has been done already Replied his lordship with an air Of conscious importance. But it is now almost supper time And you must be much fatigued with Your long and rapid journey I must therefore vote for an adjournment. As the servant at that moment Announced supper this was a very Bright sally for the Earl Though it did not produce all the Expected. Mr. Delmore you will conduct Miss St. Clair to the supper room And Colonel Delmore with infinite Reluctance was obliged to relinquish Her hand to his brother. With no less unwillingness did she Bestow it and her chagrin was not Lessened at finding herself placed Between the uncle and nephew at Supper and condemned to hear Without being able to listen To their conversation which now In spite of Miss Pratt's Facultory gavel continued to flow In the same political channel. Gertrude heard with weariness The whole preliminaries of an act Of canvas fully discussed across Her and while her imagination Yet dwelt with delight on the Melodious accents and impassioned Sentiments which had so lately Been poured into her ear and Found entrance to her heart she Mentally exclaimed how impossible Would it be ever to love a man Who can only talk of votes, And qualifications. End of section 15. Section 16 of the inheritance By Susan Edmundstone Thayer. This LibriVox recording is in The public domain. Volume 1, section 16. Certainly it is heaven upon earth To have a man's mind move in And turn upon the poles of truth. Lord Bacon. Well, what do you think of our Member was Miss Pratt's first Salutation to Gertrude as they met Next morning in their way to breakfast Then without waiting a reply. I thought you looked very weary Last night and no wonder for I Declare my back was like to Break with their politics. I have a notion you don't think He's likely to be any great Acquisition as a member of the Family, whatever he may be to The county. I must tell Anthony White that He will be so diverted. But come my dear, taking her arm We're too soon for breakfast Yet so we may just scent the Morning air as what do you Call the man's ghost says in The play. But you should have something On your head. You must not get that pretty White skin of yours sunburnt. But we'll not go farther than The portico. I looked into the room as I passed And there was nobody there but Lord Rossville sitting as usual Watching the teapot like a Clocking hen. It's a great pity that he Will make the tea himself. I declare I'm like to joke Sometimes before I can get a Drop. But after all, it's really just Water bewitched. It's a thousand pitties, honest Man that he will think he can do Everything better than anybody Else. But here comes Edward Lindsay from His Walk. I dare say he has been at some Good turn already. Good morning, Mr. Edward. Where have you been strolling To this fine morning? Miss St. Clair and I are just Ready for, as Anthony White says, I don't like to descend to Vacuity. What do you think Miss St. Clair Says of our member that she does Not think him any great acquisition As a member of the family, whatever He may be as member For the county isn't that Very good. Gertrude was about to disclaim The witticism, but Mr. Lindsay saved her the trouble. So good, replied he, that I'm Surprised you should give the credit Of it to anybody else. Miss St. Clair, I'm sure, is Incapable of making such a remark. Is that meant as a compliment To you or me, my dear? Addressing Gertrude. But I wish you would explain Mr. Edward what makes you think Miss St. Clair incapable of Saying that. Because as a physiognomist I pronounce Miss St. Clair Incapable of making so ill Natured a remark upon one of whom She has yet had no opportunity Of forming an opinion. In what do you call That remark of your own? Pray, Mr. Edward, interrupted Miss Pratt with considerable Peek, for my part I think it Is, as ill-natured, a one As ever I heard. You wish to hear the truth, Said he with a smile. It is not my fault if it is not Agreeable to tell You the truth, Mr. Lindsay. It's not by speaking what you call The truth upon every occasion That people will ever make Friends to themselves in this World. I never knew any Of your plain-spoken people That didn't make twenty enemies For one friend. I know nobody that likes to Have what you call the truth, Told them. Do you, my dear, To Gertrude? Yes, answer Gertrude, I think I should like to hear the truth From an amiable person. But the reason it is so Disagreeable, I suppose, is because People are always so crossed When they speak what they call the truth That it seems as if they only used It as a cloak for their own Ill-humor and caprice And a thousand other deadly sins. Well, I'm sure If you've a mind to hear the truth You could not be in better hands, My dear, than your cousins But there's that abominable gong again. We must really fly For Lord Roswell will be out of all Patience and off padded Miss Pratt Leaving her companions to Follow her nimble steps. Nobody had yet appeared At the breakfast table, but Lord Roswell and Mr. Delmore, who had Resumed the subject of the election With renewed vigor, Miss Pratt Seeing his lordship so engrossed Had seized upon the teapot And was enjoying the luxury Of filling her cup by stealth. Mr. Lindsay seated Himself by Gertrude. It was the place Colonel Delmore Usually occupied, and she Looked a little disappointed at seeing It filled by another. He did not Appear to notice it, but continued The conversation. I perfectly agree with you In what you were saying Of the use or abuse of truth Said he, but even that Is not so dangerous as the delusions Of false hidden flattery Commonly called politeness And admiration. These are hard words to give To very agreeable things, answered Gertrude. My quarrel is not With the things themselves Said he, but with their counterfeits. Yet if everyone were To tell another exactly What they thought of them, I dare say We should be all scratching Each other's eyes out. Not if ours was the charity That thinketh no evil. Oh, that is to say if we were All angels. No, it is to say if we were all Christians. Gertrude stared with some surprise For her idea of a Christian Like that of many other peoples Was that all were Christians Who were born in Christendom Had been baptized, learned Their creeds, and went now and then To church. I flattered myself. I am a Christian, said G. And yet I cannot help thinking There are people in the world Who are very tiresome, very Impartiment, and very disagreeable. Yet I don't think it would be A very Christian act, were I To tell them so? Certainly not, answered Mr. Lindsey with a smile. You may think them all those Things, but if you think of them At the same time, in the spirit Of kindness and Christian benevolence You will have no inclination To hurt their feelings by telling Them of faults which you cannot Mend. But if I were asked, or suppose I were to ask you to tell me My faults, I should Certainly endeavor to do it to The best of my ability. Well pray begin, I should Like to have my character drawn In a Christian like manner, Said she laughing. Yes, but I must Have many sittings before I Can attempt it. I'm not one of those nimble artists Who can take striking likenesses In five minutes. So much the better For they are always hideous Performances. But how long will you take to make A good full-length portrait of me For I really long to see myself In my true colors as a mere mortal Not as a goddess? You run no such Risk with me, I assure you Said he, but as to the time That must depend upon circumstances And opportunities Perhaps in a year. A year exclaimed Gertrude, Oh heavens, I shall Dive in patience in a month To be a whole year before I hear Of a single fault. I did not say so, replied Mr. Lindsey, as errors Like straws, you know Always float on the surface To pick up plenty of them. I have no doubt very soon If I have not got hold of one Or two already. But you would not have me pronounce Upon your character from them. Many pearls of great price May lie hid below. Which, I'm afraid, you will Never discover, said Gertrude Laughing, so if my picture is not To be drawn till then, I fear I shall be wrinkled And old and ugly before you To deck me with. I hope not, answered he. You say you love truth and Sincerity. These are jewels In themselves, and their light May lead even my darkened Eyes as you seem to think them To discover more. But to drop metaphor and speak In plain terms, why, since We both profess to like truth, Should we not agree to speak it To each other? With all my heart, answered Gertrude, but we must settle the Preliminaries, draw up the code Of laws, and swear to observe Them. In the first place, then, We must make a solemn vow On all occasions to speak the truth And nothing but the truth Koot, kiel koot In the second place, that nothing So said is to give mortal Offense to the one party or the Other. In the third, that However disagreeable we may think Each other, we are to make a Declaring it in the civilest and most Christian-like manner imaginable. In the fourth place, Beware, said Mr. Lindsay Interrupting her of coming Under any engagements Since Lord Bacon says It asketh a strong wit And a strong heart to know When to tell the truth And you know not what a savage Man you have to deal with. No, let it be a discretionary Compact with mutual confidence It's only guaranteed. And he held out his hand. Gertrude gave him hers, and as She did so, she was struck For the first time with the bland And beautiful expression Of his countenance. I never can fear you, said She with a smile, but the Conversation was broken off By the entrance of the rest Of the family, and the Consequent mountain greetings That ensued. Colonel Delmore was the last Who entered in a shade of Displeasure, darkened his brow At finding the seat he Considered as exclusively his Own occupied by another. Gertrude observed his chagrin And felt secretly flattered by It. The only vacant seat was One by Miss Pratt, who had Hitherto restrained her tongue For the benefit of her ears, Both of which had been on the Full stretch, the one to pick up Certain little political pieces Of information which it had Reasoned to suppose were not Intended for it, the other to Make itself master of what was Going on at the opposite side of The table between Miss St. Clair And Mr. Lindsay. It was wonderful how well these Two members contrived to execute Their respective offices, though Certainly the chief merit was due To their mistress, who had trained These her faithful servants to Such perfection in their calling That each of them singly could perform The work and more than the work Of any ordinary pair of ears In the kingdom. But the industrious ear had collected The active brain was not long Of concocting, nor the nimble Tongue of circulating. You look very grave this morning. Colonel said she, addressing her neighbor I wish you had been here a little Sooner it would have done your heart Good to have seen and heard the fine Flirtation that's been carrying on Over the way. With a significant nod to the opposite Side of the table. I can tell you Mr. Edward and a Certain fair lady have been looking Very sweet upon each other. It's not often he takes a flirting Fit, but I'm really glad to see Your godly people can be just Like their neighbors sometimes And come as good speed to When they said about it. What do you think lowering her voice She's going to sit to him for her picture Of full length with pearls in her hair And what do you think still lower He's to make her a present of the pearls I have a notion his mother's For I know she had a very fine set He did not seem inclined To tell the truth to part with them So soon far heard him say Something about a year But says she with her pretty Winning smile what's the good Of keeping things till one's old And bald and toothless and can't enjoy them So much for a French ease Who would expect that to look at her But my gracious colonel Do you see what you've done Split your whole cup of coffee Upon my good new gown I wonder how you contrived it And you're going to pour the cream Upon me next pushing her chair From him with the greatest velocity Upon my word one would think You did it on purpose To vindicate himself from so foul And insinuation But with his shoulder turned To the offended fair Lounged over the morning post As if quite unconscious of her presence But although he despised her too much To deign to express his disbelief Of her communication He was secretly provoked at the good Understanding that seemed to exist Between the cousins He had too high an opinion Of himself to have any fear Of his arrival But he had his own private reasons For wishing to have him kept at a distance At least till he had secured beyond a doubt The affections of Miss St. Clair Besides he was one of those Who disliked all interference With whatever object he chose To appropriate to himself Be it horse, hound, or heart He therefore determined to put a stop To this growing intimacy And to seize the first opportunity Of bringing matters to an issue In the presence of Colonel Delmore And Miss Pratt, it was seldom Mr. Lindsay had an opportunity Of being duly appreciated For in their company he was generally silent Not that he had such a respect For their conversation As induced him to play The part of a mere listener On the contrary, he gave little Attention to either of them But he was not a person to interrupt Or watch for a pause Or in any way seek to attract The notice of the company The unobtrusive qualities Of his mind therefore did not strike Upon the fancy with the same glare As the more dazzling characteristics Of Colonel Delmore And where, as in The minute occurrences Of domestic life, there are Few or no opportunities Of displaying the loftier And nobler attributes of mind It can only be By slow and imperceptible degrees Such a character gains Upon the affections A single sentence might have summed Up his in the brief But comprehensive words Of an eloquent writer For of Lindsay it might truly be said That he set An example of all the moral Virtues without pride And dared to be conspicuous For all the Christian graces Without false shame But Gertrude Saw nothing of all this She saw only that a gloom Hung upon Colonel Delmore's brow Which she would feign have dispelled And for that purpose She would have lingered beyond The rest of the party To have given him an opportunity Of expressing his disquiet But she was called away By her mother To prepare for a visit To her uncle, Mr. Adam Ramsey End of section 16