66 and Hymen, with his fair daughter Frances to boot. There was a certain John Wickerson,-whose name otherwise would not have been on the record of history at all,-who had, without Walsyngham's consent, entered into a contract of marriage with the secretary's daughter Frank," as all ladies of her name were familiarly called. When this was discovered, early in 1581, Wickerson was at once shut up in the Marshalsea prison. It did not cool his love, however painful the captivity may have otherwise been to him. At the end of two years we find him writing to Walsyngham. He confesses that the contract of matrimony was a rash one; but "to relinquish it would be a perpetual scruple and worm in conscience, and hazard of body and soul." The much-oppressed suitor then asks the consent and good will of Walsyngham to the fulfillment of the contract; otherwise, he curiously says, "we must live in adultery, and be a scornful spectacle and a mocking-stock to the world." This passage in the life of Mrs. Frances Walsyngham has not hitherto been revealed. Wickerson's letter was written in February 1583. Just eleven years previously, Sir Philip Sidney had carried a letter of introduction from his uncle Leicester to Walsyngham, then the English envoy in Paris. Sidney was then seventeen years old; and Leicester describes him as "licensed to travel," and 66 as young and raw." In Walsyngham's house he became acquainted with the envoy's only daughter Frances, who in 1581 was so closely contracted with Wickerson, that the breaking of the contract, according to the latter, would reduce them to live in a way that would make them a scornful and mocking spectacle to the world. Nevertheless, in the very next month Frances became the wife of Philip Sidney. She appears to have forgotten Wickerson altogether. When Sidney fell at Zutphen, A.D. 1586 (he was then but thirty-one years of age), there stood scathless on the same field a man, Robert Earl of Essex, who soon after won Sidney's young widow for his wife. Had Frances been true to Wickerson, she might still have fulfilled her contract with him by marrying him, after her second husband the earl was executed. Wicker son, indeed, may have been dead, or rotting in the Marshalsea; at all events, he disappears altogether, after momentarily appearing on the surface of this ocean of love. As for "Frank," she had ascended from a knight to an earl, and she would wear nothing less than a countess's coronet.. She was offered one by the "great" Richard de Burgh; and accepting it, she died in Ireland Countess of Clanricarde. One can not help having some sympathy and curiosity touching the first, and probably humbly-born, "sweetheart" of this wife of three husbands. Poor Wickerson might have felt something of what is expressed in the lines of a poet of that century, in his "Woman's Inconstancy:" "Yet do thou glory in thy choice, Thy choice of his good fortune boast; The height of my disdain shall be It is certain, from these very records, Let us, however, do her the justice of saying that our own belief is that Cicely Hopton was indeed forgetful of both the father and the governor; and setting aside that disloyalty which daughters will, under certain influences, render to such supremacy, she was a courageous girl, who had a heart that did not flinch to do good service to the man whom she loved, and the cause which he maintained. Cicely holds a worthy position on the shelves of the State-Paper Office, where the social and political history of England lies, long written, but only partly published. Chambers's Journal. TOO MUCH MONEY. CHAPTER I. "THE next question is, where shall she spend her holidays?" asked Uncle Charles. "With each of us in turn," answered Uncle John. "No, no; that will unsettle the child's mind," interposed Uncle David. "Better leave her entirely to me, brothers," quoth Uncle Henry. "My establishment is more fit for a young girl than any of yours, because I am not quite a confirmed old bachelor-I do mean to marry some day-and you can all come and see her as often as you please." My uncles seemed inclined to agree to this arrangement, when one of the clerks put his head in at the door, saying: "Lord Colooney wishes to see you, Mr. Dobbs." All four brothers started with astonish ment. The conversation which I have just related took place in my uncle Henry's private office. Scattered about the room sat my uncles, bald-headed, Dutch-built, elderly gentlemen, with heavy watchchains and projecting stomachs; while I, a slender little maiden of thirteen, nestled in one corner of an enormous leathern chair. I was timid and tearful, for Aunt Flora was just dead; and though Aunt Flora did not treat me nearly so familiarly as she treated Xerxes, the great Persian cat, still she was the only friend I had had for a long time. In came Lord Colooney, a tall old gentleman with snow white hair, a handsome colorless face, and a most attractive smile upon his lip. When he smiled, he reminded me of dear papa, and I loved him. I was surprised to see how my uncles-especially Uncle Henry bowed down before him. Uncle Henry made such obsequious salams, that I thought he would never come up again, and yet I knew that he was immensely rich, while Lord Colooney was very poor. Presently, when these polite salutations were concluded, Lord Colooney called me to him, and taking my hands kindly in his own, asked if I knew who he was, and I said: "Yes, you are grandpapa.' With this statement he seemed highly pleased, and gave me a kiss. The five gentlemen then began to tattle very earnestly and very lengthily, so that, although I understood a good deal that they said, I grew rather weary, and yawned once or twice privily behind my hand. Uncle John noticed this, and said kindly: "You're getting tired, Louisa. Here, Mr. Furlong, take this young lady out for a walk; show her the shops, and buy her something to eat." Mr. Furlong was a bristly-haired, longlegged personage, very nervous and very apologetic. He apologized to me for having left his gloves in his greatcoat pocket, and also on discovering that he had come out with his pen behind his ear. I had two buns and a strawberry-ice at a pastry-cook's, and then he asked me what sort of shops I would like to look at. I said I would sooner go into a quiet place, away from the noise of the carriages. So he took me into a delightful little churchyard, with houses all round it. He remained so silent, that I thought he hated having to come out with me, and I asked him why he did not talk. "It's not my place, miss," he said humbly, "to talk to a young lady like you. I'm only a clerk"-he pronounced the word as if rhyming to Turk-" while you are grand-daughter to a peer of the realm, and heiress to thirty thousand pounds." "Thirty thousand pounds! Are you sure?" "Positive, Miss. The governor sent me down to the Commons to look at the will." "And who has given me all this money?" "Your aunt, Miss Flora Dobbs, Miss." By this time Mr. Furlong had overcome his shyness, and told me what a clever woman my aunt was, and how she spent all her life in the accumulation of house-property. "Being a child, you only knew her, Miss, as a lover of cats. But cats was merely her relaxation. Leaseholds copyholds, ground-rents, and carcasses was the business of her life; and she doubled her original capital." Mr. Furlong grew gradually more and more communicative, and launched out into such praises of my father, that my eyes sparkled with pleasure. "Four times," he said, "have I had the honor of seeing the captain. What a fine, 'andsome, manly gentleman he was! Free-handed, like most Hirish gents, but a perfect nobleman in his ideas. And when I heard he was drowned aboard the yacht in Cardigan Bay, I took the Bills Receivable out of the safe, and looking at the acceptances signed Adam Fitzadam, I said with a sigh: 'Ah, nobody will take you up now when you come to maturity! I did not understand this flight of eloquence, but it sounded very pathetic; and as Mr. Furlong drew his coat-sleeve across his eyes, I wiped away a tear or two with my pocket-handkerchief. "I think, Miss, we had better be returning," said Mr. Furlong. "And, oh, Miss Fitzadam!" he continued, in a heartfelt tone, "should it ever be in your power-which, doubtless it will- to 'elp a poor clerk who has only a 'underd a year, and an aged relative to keep out of that, not to mention an attachment of seven years' standing at Camberwell, but unable to be compassed through poverty on both sides, I hope, Miss Fitzadam, you won't forget the humble party who now addresses you." "I promise you I will not," I exclaimed warmly. When we returned to the office, I found that all my relatives had left excepting Uncle Henry, who was seated alone with Lord Colooney. ment. Your uncles have, in the most generous and disinterested manner-I allude especially to Mr. Henry Dobbswaived the natural desire they felt to superintend your education. They have consented to intrust that duty to my unworthy self. I would not have ventured to undertake the task, but for the confidence which I repose in Lady Colooney's prudence and wisdom." "It's much the best plan, my lord," observed Uncle Henry; "and I hope your lordship will excuse my brothers Charles and David for their rudeness. As for John, I knew he would listen to my arguments. He always does, my lord. There can't be any question in the matter. We are plain commercial men, immersed in business, while your lordship is hand-in-glove with the world of fashion. My niece's fortune is held in trust by us four brothers, and I hope she may live to adorn such a station as your lordship and her ladyship may see fit to bestow upon her." "Are you satisfied, Louisa?" asked my grandfather with a sweet smile, as he drew me towards him. "Quite satisfied," said I, kissing his cheek. Uncle Henry also saluted me, and the interview came to an end. CHAPTER II. The Dobbses were a money-making family. My great-grandfather, who came up to London with a seven-shilling piece and fourpence-halfpenny in his pocket, left a very pretty fortune to his son. My grandfather managed this pretty fortune so cleverly that he enlarged it into what was called a "plum" in those days. At his death, his "plum" was divided fairly and equitably among four sons and two daughters. My uncles, especially Henry and John, had all increased their original proportions by assiduous industry; and Aunt Flora, as I have shown, followed their example. But my mother, who was the child of my grandfather's old age, seemed to be cast in a different mould. A year after my grandfather's death, she delivered her fortune, together with her own pretty hand, to the unconditional care and keeping of the Honorable Adam Fitzadam, Captain in Her Majesty's -th Dragoons, and Lord Co 36 looney's youngest son. My prudent un- the garden had shrunk into a shabby cles disapproved of the match; and Aunt yard, and mamma did not look so pretty Flora was very angry indeed at Louisa's as she used to look. She had pale cheeks sentimental folly in marrying the young- and red eyes; and after my little brother er son of a pauper peer (my respected aunt seems to have relished this bit of alliteration, for I find it repeated seven times in her correspondence of that period). But what did my mother care? She was a high-spirited wilful young lady, and she loved Captain Fitzadam's little finger better than the corporal substance of all her brothers and sisters put together. I don't wonder that she loved my father, for he was a most loveable man. And such a handsome man, too! Such a noble figure, such beautiful blue eyes, and such waving brown hair! Full of fun and frolic; and on wet days-which are not uncommon in the west of Ireland -he would play Puss-in-the-corner with mamma and me, and Norah the nurse, as if he had been only six years old. But he had some peculiarities. He fancied, as was very natural for a young Irish gentleman, that my mother's sixteen thousand pounds was sixteen thousand a year. So he kept a pack of hounds, and ran horses at the races, and bought a yacht, and entertained his friends royally. Mamma and I often accompanied him on board the yacht, and I used to help to pull up what are called the signalhalyards with my little feeble hands. How well I recollect one especial day on Kingstown Pier! My father, in his straw-hat and blue jacket, looking every inch a sailor-king, wanted my mother to cross over with him to Cardigan Bay. But she declined, because her health was just then a little delicate. So he and two jovial bachelor friends went together, and we watched them waving their hats as they hoisted mamma's private flag. We never saw him again. Some said the vessel made too much water, others hinted that there was too much champagne on board. Whatever was the cause, the Norah Creina foundered off the Caernarvonshire coast, and though everybody else escaped in the boat, my poor father, who was a most excellent swimmer, was drowned. I have only a confused recollection of what followed. Our nice house seems to have been transported by some magic -influence into a back-street in Dublin, was born (of course he was called Adam), she staid in bed a good deal. We had a great many visitors, but they were mostly disagreeable people, who used to have long conferences with Norah in the passage, and never got any further-except one man, a very nice man with a dirty face, who was always in the kitchen, and who taught me how to make garden-nets. He told me his name was Mr. Bailiff. I suspect we were very poor at that time; but mamma declared that she would not ask her brothers and sister to help her, because they had been so unkind about Captain Fitzadam. At last mamma grew very ill, and then Aunt Flora came over from England with two pet cats in a basket. Mr. Bailiff went away, and the dinners became much nicer than they used to be. But mamma had no appetite for the nice dinners; she got paler and weaker every day, and when little Adam died in teething, she soon followed him. The interval was really longer; but, to my childish recollection, the great black box and the little black box seem to have been both carried out of the house on the same day. CHAPTER III. Nobody troubled themselves about me in those days except Aunt Flora, and even she was only distantly kind when I came home for the holidays. But when Aunt Flora died, and left me all her property (except five hundred pounds devised for the purpose of founding a Refuge for the Stray Cats of St George's, Bloomsbury), I became quite an important personage. My uncles vied, as I have shown, for the honor of entertaining me; and my grandfather, who had hitherto remained contentedly ignorant of my existence, carried me away with him to Paris. Lady Colooney, his second wife, who had a large family of her own, received me very graciously, which was not surprising; for, by a private arrangement with Uncle Henry, the whole interest of my thirty thousand pounds was paid quarterly to my grandfather, and constituted a very pleasant addition to the precarious income which he de rived from his heavily-mortgaged property in Connaught. But far greater luck was in store for me. Within a few years, my Uncle Henry died, without even accomplishing his long-intended marriage, and left me the whole of his fortune more than two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Uncle John, who during life had always followed his strongerminded brother's example, imitated him by dying a few months later, and bequeathing me seventy thousand pounds. Thus, a girl who, only a few years before, was left a penniless orphan, found herself, at the age of seventeen, worth at least three hundred and fifty thousand pounds. I felt rather vexed than pleased at the amazing increase of my wealth. Thirty thousand pounds was a very nice sum to marry with, but ten times that amount was a burden and an annoyance. I did not forget my old acquaintance, Mr. Furlong, who had been thrown out of employment by my uncle Henry's death. I should have liked to have given him a thousand pounds (a mere dop out of the ocean of my riches,) just to enable him to marry his Camberwell sweetheart comfortably; but Lady Colooney, to whom I mentioned the matter, talked so solemnly of the responsibilities of people of property, declaring that my gift would be the ruin of a well-conducted and industrious young man, that I was forced to content myself by recommending him to my uncles Charles and David. They were now in partnership together, and wishing to oblige their powerful ward, made Mr. Furlong their chief-clerk. The Colooneys benefitted immensely by my improved fortunes. My grand father, who used to live in a poorly-furnished appartement, who dined, when not invited elsewhere, at a modest restaurant, and who had much ado to keep the second family with which Lady C. presented him decently attired, now came over to England, and lived in a style consistent with his grand-daughter's riches. He took a sumptuous Belgravian mansion and gave grand entertainments. One son entered the Guards, another became a gentleman-commoner at Oxford, while my aunts (it seems funny to call them aunts, for they were girls of my own age) astonished the world by the I had As brilliancy and variety of their toilets. As for myself, I ought to have been very happy, for my grandfather treated me with the most charming politeness, Lady Colooney was honey-sweet; all the family arrangements were made to depend on my sovereign will and pleasure. But I soon began to feel the disadvantages of great wealth; I became as notorious as if I had committed a murder. The newspapers chronicled my movements in a very special manner. a little Court Circular all to myself. for begging letter-writers, from clergymen wanting to build new churches, down to carpenters who who had just lost their tool-chests in a fire, I should have been inundated with them, had not Lady Colooney (an admirable manager in this respect) kept them off. Even in society, I was gazed at rather unpleasantly. People seemed to wonder that a girl who had suddenly become a millionare should look like any one else, and I think some of my own sex were disappointed to find that I was not extraordinarily plain. Then I was never suffered to be alone. Should the other members of the family quit the room in which I was sitting, a confidential governess or a trustworthy friend would glide in, as if by magic. Did I retire for half an hour's solitude to my boudoir, there was always a lady's maid seated in the antechamber. I complained to Lady Colooney about it, and she answered me quite frankly. "My dearest Louisa," she said solemnly, "in position it is absolutely necessary. Your great fortune compels us to treat you almost as if you were a royal personage. You are young and inexperienced; you have no idea, my sweet child, what snares and traps beset the path of an heiress." I knew what this meant in plain English-it meant that there were plenty of people ready to run away with me against my will; and that those charmingly-polite tradesmen who come and shew to us wealthy folks lace, old china, and diamond bracelets, might possibly be unscrupulous heiress-hunting adventurers. I dreamed one night that two villains, disguised as washer women, carried me off in a clothes-basket, and held me to ransom in some dreadful garret for a hundred thousand pounds. your One thing was soon settled, that I was |