CHAPTER I.

MR. FRANK LAWFORD offended his family by three things. He turned author; he adopted liberal opinions in politics; and he married a poor and nameless wife. Any one of these would have been bad enough, according to the hereditary notions of the Lawford family; but all these combined in one person, was an unimaginable delinquency which the Lawfords could not forgive. But in order that our readers may have a more definite idea of this family, which had considered itself par excellence sans reproche, we must go back to the time of Peter Lawford, the old squire.

Peter Lawford, and his ancestors before him, had been members of the squirearchy of Leicestershire for some hundreds of years. The chancel vault was full of the bones of the Lawfords, male and female; and the church walls were covered with monumental tablets, in marble and brass, commemorating their virtues and their greatness. The Lawfords of the fifteenth century endowed the grammar school; the Lawfords built the alms-houses; the Lawfords had given, and still gave, doles of beef and fuel to the poor at Christmas; they had always sate on the magisterial bench; they were in all trusts of bridges and turnpike roads for their part of the county. Lawfords also had sate in Parliament; they had served their king and country in the army and on sea; and according to their belief they served God also, by VOL. II.

providing out of their own family a Lawford to occupy the living of Lawford, which, of course, was in their gift-a comfortable way it was of serving God, for the living had always been a good one, and, at the time of our story, amounted to £800 a-year.

But whatever the Lawfords of former times had been as to wealth, Peter Lawford, when he came into possession of the estate, found that its revenues were somewhat encumbered. Peter was the second son, and had been brought up to the law, for which he always entertained the highest regard; holding it as his firm opinion, that, had fate left him to pursue his own course, he should have risen to the highest eminence. But fate made a country gentleman of him; and as it is a much easier and safer thing to regret the loss of greatness than to try to achieve it, Peter sate down contentedly on the broad lands of Lawford, to try to rid himself of the encumbrances which he had never expected to find there. The older Lawford had been a speculator before the true time for profitable speculation began, and therefore won for himself the character of insanity, because he laid down in his park an infant rail-road, on which he laboured hard to perfect self-propelling carriages. He built velocipedes and constructed balloons, but, poor man, succeeded in nothing. He was one of those men with glimmerings of truth before the age is prepared to receive it; precursors of discoveries on the very verge of their birth. Had Mr. Lawford lived fifty years later he

No. 27.

would have made his fortune and benefited society; as it was, he impoverished the family estate, and gained the reputation to himself of being brimful of crotchets, if not actually insane; and, what was still more disastrous, lost his life by the falling of a heavy beam, which had been inadequately fastened for the support of some ponderous machinery.

The world said, that Mr. Peter Lawford, now the head of the family, was a strongminded man; he believed so himself, nay, as we have hinted before, he had the highest possible idea of his own abilities, and in settling down on the estate resolved to clear off all encumbrances, and never to marry but with a woman of substance. It is wonderful what credit Peter's mode of action gained for him in the world; he was the very model of prudence and practical wisdom; he was an oracle at quarter sessions, where his lawknowledge really stood him in stead. He was counsellor both to old and young, and soon found that not only did he stand high among fathers and uncles, and brothers and nephews, but among all ladies whether married or single. Having enjoyed all this triumph for ten long years, he all at once took it into his head to think about being married. Perhaps he might be a little stimulated to this, by hearing one certain May morning that no less than six ladies of his acquaintance were to be married that summer. poor Peter, and one of the six that very Miss Rutherford, the belle of the county, about whom he had been thinking for these last four years. Without exactly knowing what was his precise train of thought, we can only say that upon that very morning Peter rode over to the Rutherfords to ascertain his fate.

Ah

He found the brother of the young lady at home, and asked immediately from him if the report of his sister's approaching marriage were really true. Mr. Rutherford replied that he believed so, that he hoped so, but that the marriage settlements were not yet drawn.

Lawford walked up and down the room, as men do whose minds are agitated, made one or two ineffectual attempts to speak, and then resolutely mastering his feelings, begged that Mr. Rutherford would never betray the emotion which he had witnessed; that from the bottom of his soul he wished nothing but the happiness of his amiable sister; that he had wished to clear his estate of the encumbrances with which his unfortunate brother had burdened it- he had hoped in a year or two-that it was a very painful thing to him

that his friend would understand him—and now the report of Miss Rutherford's approaching marriage had reached him. He had ridden over to ascertain the truth-and now of course he had nothing more to say. He offered his friend his hand, and apparently much affected, was about to leave the room. My good fellow," said Rutherford, "this is unfortunate but you must not go thus. Sit down, I will say a word to you in confidence. Of this Colonel Wynn I know little, of his family still less: he is an acquaintance which my wife and Alice made last winter at Bath. You, on the contrary, are an old friend. - our families have been connected by marriage, and I will candidly tell you, that I would rather that Alice had married you, than any other man I know."

Lawford's countenance brightened: "Might he understand," he asked, "that the young lady herself entertained any sentiment of regard towards him."

Mr. Rutherford refused to give a definite answer to that question, but added, that if his friend were inclined to try his luck, he could honestly tell him that with all his heart he wished him success.

On that very day, as a matter of course, Mr. Lawford offered hand and heart to the fair Alice Rutherford. The lady blushed, wept, looked lovelier than ever; spoke of the awkward position of her affairs; of Colonel Wynn, whom she esteemed as a friend, of his violent temper, of her dread of fearful consequences; wept again almost hysterically, and confessed with maiden shame that Mr. Lawford was by far the dearer of her two lovers.

As she had anticipated, not many days elasped before the tempestuous Colonel Wynn made his appearance in Leicestershire, the end of which was, that two challenges were sent by him in one day; the one to her brother, the other to her new lover. The duels were fought, from which Mr. Rutherford and the Colonel came off scathless, while Mr. Lawford received an injury in the left elbow, which, after confining him for a few weeks, left him with a stiff joint for the rest of his days. But this affair brought to him no other unpleasant consequences; on the contrary, he never apparently stood so high in the opinion of his county neighbours, as when he first made his appearance again amongst them, with his arm in a sling and as the affianced bridegroom of the beautiful Alice Rutherford.

CHAPTER II.

Years went on, and prosperity seemed to belong to the Lawfords. All went on smoothly and brightly as on a summer's day, when, all at once, somebody put it into Mr. Lawford's head to offer himself as Tory candidate for the county. Elections were long and fierce in those days, and the stories which old people tell of the bribery and corruption which took place, make those of the present time the merest child's play. And of all elections, that which Mr. Lawford carried has been always considered one of the most memorable. Little did Lawford think, when the idea first crossed his brain of offering himself, of the sum that it would cost him; but such things have been before and since. The successful candidate finds, as the young Franklin did, that he has paid too dearly for his whistle.

Peter Lawford took his seat in parliament, and that part of the world which knew him expected great things from him. Mrs. Lawford, like her husband, prided herself on her good sense and good management, and in order, as she said, that the expense of two establishments might be saved, a house was taken in London, the estate put into the hands of a trusty bailiff, the house shut up and left in charge of a couple of servants on board-wages; and Lawford determined now, in his parliamentary career, to turn his laweducation to account, and win to himself he knew not how much honour and advantage. For ten long years did he occupy his place in parliament, never absenting himself from a single sitting, and distinguishing himself by his hot and unflinching adherence to every principle of Tory policy, either at home or abroad. His speeches were remarkable for two things, their soporific quality and their great length, some witty members having been known to put their night-caps on when he rose to his feet. But this moved not Mr. Lawford a jot, nor did he despond after ten years of unrewarded service. If the ministry had remained in office only six months longer, he believed that he should have risen to the peerage. But the Whigs came into office, and, after an unsuccessful attempt to be returned in the new parliament, he came to Lawford and a country life, very much the worse for his ten years of public labour.

Mrs. Lawford was by no means a lady of an economical turn, although she had talked of leaving Lawford and removing to London, to save the expense of two houses and two

establishments. But the establishment in London cost far more than that in the country could have done; and then there was the winter at Bath or Cheltenham for the benefit of the lady's health, and the cottage in the Isle of Wight or at Worthing, for the children and their attendants. All this dipped deeply into the annual rents of Lawford, which were yet not clear from the late Mr. Lawford's debts, and consumed, as if they had fallen into a vortex, all the emoluments, and fees, and bribes, which dropped one way and another into the pockets of the parliamentary man of business.

Mr. Lawford came back to the home of his fathers a much poorer, and a much more anxious man than he had left it. Besides which, he had been compelled, in order to pay off the most pressing of his election debts, to sell the next presentation of the living of Lawford, which was then held by his uncle, at that time eighty years of age, and a free liver into the bargain. It was a ready means of raising money, and fifteen thousand pounds was thus obtained. He had three sons of his own, the second of whom was, as a matter of course, destined to the church, and for this living in particular; nor had he any doubt but by the time this young man was ready for his clerical duties, that fate or favourable circumstances would have cleared the way for him. But fate was hard, and favourable circumstance was none; for at the very time when the second son, Adolphus, the destined incumbent of Lawford, was in his twentyfirst year, the old incumbent, or encumbrance rather, was in his ninety-fourth, a hale old man, who prided himself on reading without spectacles. It was a serious thing to the Lawfords, but a much more serious thing to the Rev. Mr. Colville, who, ten years before, had sunk all his worldly wealth, even more than he then possessed, to purchase this next presentation, which every one reckoned as good as his own on the day of purchase.

It is a proverb, that if you give any old woman an annuity, she will live for ever; so said the Rev. Mr. Colville a thousand times, only varying the proverb to suit his own

case.

The Lawfords were making a good figure in London, while the poor Colvilles, who had beggared themselves for the sake of their purchase, were struggling on a small euracy, with a large family and the most oppressive worldly anxieties. Old Humphrey Lawford would not die! It was in vain that Mr. and Mrs. Colville looked over the list of deaths in the daily papers; die he would not,

and Mr. Colville had no influential connexions to assist him. His very heart was sick of hope deferred; and so the bloom wore off his life and his hair grew gray, and his wife lost her cheerful looks and her placid temper, and it almost seemed to them that they would die themselves before this old incumbent who was now ninety-two.

One, two, three years yet went on, and the school that the poor curate had now kept for some years, ebbed and flowed with a very uncertain current, till, in the very half-year when Peter Lawford's parliamentary life came to a close without any golden sunset, a little scholar brought into the school the scarlet-fever, and one scholar, the son of his best supporter, died together with the youngest of his own children, the pet and darling of his cheerless heart. The cup of their misfortune and their misery seemed full. last drop was in, and it already flowed over.

The

The evening, however, on which the children were buried, a post letter brought the long expected news- -old Humphrey Lawford was dead.

"Blessed be the Lord, inasmuch as his hand is yet stretched out to save us!" ejaculated the heart-stricken clergyman, as he laid down the letter, feeling nevertheless, in the sorrowful depths of his heart, as if the time of rejoicing was gone for ever from him.

"Oh that poor Jeanie had but lived!" groaned the mother, as she read the letter which her husband had laid down. Her eye caught her husband's; heart understood heart, and, clasping each other in a long embrace, they wept together.

CHAPTER III.

The very day on which the Colvilles, in their deep mourning, and with their griefsubdued countenances, took possession of their long-expected home, the Lawford family came back to the old Hall. It was a sore thought to Mr. Lawford and his wife, that here was a man hardly arrived at middle life at that very moment come into possession of that heritage which, from his childhood upward, they had regarded as the patrimony of their second son; and what if he lived to the age of old Humphrey ? and he might do so, sailing thus, like a ship after a stormy voyage, into a haven of blessed repose. What prospect was there, then, for poor Adolphus? "Poor Adolphus!" sighed they, whenever they thought of the Rectory: "Poor Adolphus! "whenever they thought

on the young man himself; for even they, with all the partiality of parents, were forced to confess, that Adolphus was the least gifted of all their offspring, and who, on the fat living of Lawford, might have kept a curate, and, with the patronage and forbearance of his own family, might have gone respectably through life, but who otherwise could not look even to be another man's curate. Another vexatious thing there was, and it was a very vexatious thing, old Humphrey Lawford, who had been a bachelor all his days, and never had spent the half of his income, and who had indulged in but one luxury, that of buying books, had left behind him a most unsatisfactory will. He had left his library to his own college; his money in the funds, to four public societies; and all his furniture, and all his personal property, to his forty-years' housekeeper. Not one penny came to his nephew or his family! Mr. Lawford literally begrudged the cost of family mourning.

George,

The Lawford family were four. the eldest, a young man, whose gay college life had caused his father great displeasure, and was now placed rather on the shady side of his affections. The second was the only daughter Camilla, somewhat turned twenty, a very well-bred and highly accomplished young lady, as every one said, and her father's favourite. Camilla was much more remarkable for her wit and her talents than for her beauty, being the plainest of the family, the only one, indeed, who had not inherited the fine Rutherford eyes and cast of countenance. Her complexion was dark; her eyes gray, with a keen intelligence in them, perfectly in accordance with her well-cut and firmly-closing mouth.

"It is a pity that Camilla is not a boy!" said her mother, when she saw how, by an absolute love of rule, and a natural force of character, she, as a little girl, had governed her brothers and those about her. As Camilla grew up, very little was said of her amiability. She was too cold, too selfish, too fond of power, ever to be much loved; but love was not the thing that she very much cared about. If she had power, that would give her an influence and a consideration which suited her much better. One characteristic, however, there was in her, which was praiseworthy; and that was the kindness and attention she always bestowed upon her smally gifted brother Adolphus. Adolphus seemed ever more dependent upon her than upon his parents: he looked up to