"Mrs. Melmoth will feel the departure of her | having a medical man always residing in the son," said I to Henrietta; "let us go and call house." upon her." 66 How wonderfully devoted you are to Mrs. Melmoth, Mabel!" replied Henrietta. "I suppose you expect me to be like a Chinese wife, a model of obsequiousness and subjection to my mother-in-law. I am sure Mrs. Melmoth does much better alone; all nervous people do; and besides, Mr. Turner pays her a visit every day." He will not be here to-day," I replied; "I have just met Mrs. Turner, who informed me that her husband went at an early hour this morning to a gentleman some miles distant, who has met with a dangerous accident, and that she does not expect him back again till to 66 morrow." "Then go and supply his place by all means, Mabel," said Henrietta; "I really think dull morning visits a shocking waste of time." And Henrietta forthwith summoned Nannette, and placing herself before a looking-glass, directed her to try divers experiments on her hair with a variety of flowers, feathers, and handkerchiefs, preparatory to a meditated performance of tableaux vivans on her return to the gaieties of London. Leaving her employed in this profitable occupation, I walked to Mrs. Melmoth's house; she was lying as usual, on the sofa. I inquired after her health; she replied in her customary form of words, that "she was sorry to say she was far from well," and for the first time in my life I replied with sincere commiseration that I was grieved to hear it. I evidently saw that she was indeed ill, and that her malady had nothing to do with fancy. "It is very unfortunate," I said, "that Mr. Turner should not be in Harbury to-day." "Very," replied Mrs. Melmoth in a faint tone of voice; "there are none of the luxuries of the great that I envy so much as the privilege of "Our tastes differ," I replied; "I should consider such a plan the very reverse of a luxury; but I quite agree with you, Mrs. Melmoth, that it is desirable to see a medical man when we are really indisposed; and I am inclined to think that such is the case with you at present.' وو "It is always the case with me, my dear," replied the lady resignedly; "I never have a moment's health; but just now I am certainly much worse than usual, and indeed, I doubt not, very dangerously ill." I felt her pulse-a feat which appeared to excite great surprise in her mind, as she had not considered that any but medical men were acquainted with this mysterious art; she was evidently very feverish, and I felt so much pity for her deserted situation, and for the bodily sufferings which I apprehended would soon task her weak nerves and ill-regulated mind beyond their powers of endurance, that I offered to write a note to my aunt, saying that I would remain that day and night at the cottage, and not quit its inhabitant till I left her under the all-efficient care of Mr. Turner. Mrs. Melmoth overwhelmed me with thanks, and told me that she could never do enough to show her gratitude to me, but I could not make her do anything that I wished. I offered to read to her, but Mr. Turner thought that when people were very ill, books disturbed the head. I wished her to drink some barley water, but she had most unaccountably neglected to ascertain Mr. Turner's opinion of barley water, and could not venture upon it without his consent. I was desirous to place a pillow beneath her head, but Mr. Turner had a very bad opinion of pillows, and she meekly consigned her cheek to the hard back of the sofa, and when in the evening I K earnestly recommended a few drops of lauda-, num, she was evidently shocked at my daring assumption of authority; it was clear that she considered that Mr. Turner, like the celebrated "Dr. Last," would resent as a personal affront her confession that she had taken a single nostrum prescribed by anybody but himself. She had a restless night, and I was truly rejoiced when, at eleven the next morning, the much desired Mr. Turner made his appearance. To her he was cheerful and encouraging, as was his wont, volunteering the most comforting assurances that "we should soon get over this little attack." "I will, with your leave," he replied, give a few directions to your friend, Miss Langford." I recoiled from the thought of Rebecca Brown, who, when we first came to Harbury, was under a cloud, arising from her having half-killed a lady by administering to her a wrong medicine by mistake. "I cannot bear the idea," I said, "of Mrs. Melmoth, so helpless and desponding as she is, being abandoned to the mercy of Rebecca Brown. I have a very good opinion of the youngest of her servants; let her be in constant attendance on her mistress, and all in which she is deficient I hope to be able to supply: it is not my intention to leave the cottage." "But my dear young lady," said Mr. Turner, "I am sure you could not have understood me: I intimated that I had reason to fear that Mrs. Melmoth's disorder would be contagious." "I am quite aware of it, Mr. Turner," I replied: "why should you think that I did not understand you?" "Because," he replied, "I have always noticed the educated classes have a peculiar horror of infection." "I am exceedingly sorry," I said, "that the educated classes should not make a better use of their advantages: education ought surely to lead us to be willing, if necessary, to peril our lives for the sake of our fellow-creatures, and to feel that life and death are in the hands of the Almighty Ruler of events, without whose permission not a sparrow falls to the ground." I perceived by the open eyes and wondering look of the worthy village doctor, that I had soared rather beyond his comprehension, and therefore continued in more familiar terms, "I shall be extremely obliged to you if you will call on my aunt; express to her the opinion you have just given to me of the nature of Mrs. Melmoth's complaint, and represent to her that as I have been twenty-four hours at the cottage, I might possibly convey contagion to her house were I now to re-enter it; and therefore that it will be far wiser and better for all parties if she will allow me to remain here instead of accom panying her to London." Mr. Turner willingly complied with my re quest. Lady Piercefield was fortunately one of the educated people to whom he alluded, who have a particular horror of infection; she said that it was the very best and wisest course that Mabel could pursue to remain with poor Mrs. Melmoth, and that now she was so well taken care of, it would be easy for Henrietta to exact a promise from dear James not to risk his valuable health by visiting his mother. Accordingly, next day, Lady Piercefield departed with her niece for London, leaving an elaborate note for Mrs. Melmoth, who was by that time delirious and unable to understand it; and a more simple one for me, earnestly exhorting me not to quit the cottage, while there was a possibility that I might carry contagion away with me. The ensuing evening I was startled, although not on reflection surprised, by the appearance of Melmoth. "I could not endure," he said, " to remain in London while there was the least probability that I might be of assistance to my dear mother. I do not seek to supersede your kind labours, Miss Langford; I only ask to be allowed to share them." I endeavoured to speak comfort to him, and succeeded in forgetting, and apparently in making him forget, the embarrassing circumstances in which we had been placed in relation to each other; we watched as a brother and sister might have done by the object of our mutual interest, whose disorder in a few days took a favourable turn; we were both, by a merciful Providence, preserved from infection, and Mr. Turner at length announced to us that his patient was in a fair way of recovery. Lady Piercefield indeed could still only venture to correspond by means of fumigated billets; and James Melmoth still, at the entreaty of his be trothed, refrained from paying his duty to his convalescent mother; but the inhabitants of Harbury considered that another marvellous cure had been added to the number of those performed by Mr. Turner, and were impatient to offer their congratulations; and I joyfully sent out for a pack of appropriate cards, and began writing "thanks for obliging inquiries." Melmoth came into the drawing-room just as I had finished my task. "I have been sitting with my mother, Miss Langford," he said, "listening to your praises; you have benefited her in every respect; she speaks with sorrow and self-reprobation of her former blameable indulgence of fanciful and nervous feelings, and the temporary loss of real health will, I feel persuaded, cure her for ever of imaginary illness." "Pray do not overrate my services," I said; "the few words of advice that I took the liberty of dropping to Mrs. Melmoth on the subject might have been given by any one.” "And would any one," exclaimed Melmoth with animation," have perilled life for the sake of a mere acquaintance? Would any one have uncomplainingly and cheerfully sacrificed rest and recreation day after day, speaking peace and encouragement to the sufferer, and completing the work of mercy by softly whispered words of truth and piety which I trust will be ever remembered, not only by her to whom they were addressed, but by him who was an eager listener to them?" I was deeply affected by this speech; but, trying to rally my spirits, rejoined, "I am happy and grateful to have been of any use to Mrs. Melmoth, but pray do not speak of my humble assistance in such flattering terms, you will make me fancy myself a creature of perfection." "No, indeed, Miss Langford," he said, while a sudden revulsion passed over his features, "I am far from thinking you a creature of perfection; it is with grief that I reflect that a character so exemplary in many respects should be so inconsistent, and that one so qualified to advise and direct others, should herself require a faithful friend to dissuade her from the course she is pursuing; no, indeed, you are far from being a creature of perfection!" the bitter and, as it seemed, deserved reproach that was addressed to you by your discarded suitor! I passed rapidly on, and proceeded, as had been my original intention, to your house. Lady Piercefield was alone. Have you seen Mabel?' she exclaimed. I am somewhat uneasy about her.' Encouraged by this question, I frankly told her what I had seen. She sighed heavily: It would be vain,' she said, to attempt to conceal from you the fact of Mabel's heartlessness and deception, and I feel it a duty to acquaint you with the real meaning of the scene you have just beheld. Mabel, when she quitted London, was affianced with her own consent to a gentleman of honour and birth, but of limited fortune, and she corresponded with him after her arrival at Harbury. The reputed large property of Mr. Dalby occasioned her to imagine that he would be what the world calls a more eligible match; but his choice was fixed on another, and her attempts to win him were ineffectual. Since then, she has transferred her affections, or I should more properly say her attentions, to a person whose name it is I was rather indignant at this second as-needless to mention to you; she became remiss surance of my imperfections, and was ready to exclaim with Mrs. Malaprop, "You need not repeat the words, sir,” but with a cheerful look I replied, "You have merely said of me what Portia says of herself, I could sooner teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching; but, instead of dealing in general accusations, I wish you would come to particulars." in her correspondence with her former lover; I "Do you indeed wish it?" asked Melmoth. "I do indeed," I replied, "and if you will not oblige me, I shall 'The mystic veil withdraw Of my Lanterna Magica,' and present to your view a green copse, a packet of letters, and a rejected lover." 66 "Pardon me for doing so," said Melmoth; your present agitation speaks of truth too plainly to be misconstrued, and without hearing your vindication I believe in your innocence. But can you wonder that I put trust in Lady Piercefield? What motive could I ascribe to her for wishing to defame you? It certainly appeared evident to me that she wished me to ally myself with her family; but how was I to surmise that she sought me for one niece alone; 64 Can you indeed jest on such a subject, Miss my attentions to you, prior to this unfortunate Langford?" asked Melmoth in a deeply sorrow-meeting in the copse, had been marked, and by ful tone. "I could not, even from Lady Piercerepresentation of your conduct, have conyou capable of such heartless levity.” My cheek crimsoned. I now not only ask, but demand an explanation," I exclaimed. "If Lady Piercefield has spoken the truth, she can have said nothing of me which I should dread to hear; if not, I claim the right of being heard in my own vindication." field's ceived 64 Willingly," replied Melmoth, "will I comply with your request, and thankful shall I be if you indeed vindicate yourself. The gossip of Harbury had told me that a young and handsome stranger was staying at the village inn, and that it was surmised that a love affair was his inducement to prolong his visit there. I had seen him once, and immediately recognized him when I accidentally passed through the copse. What was my surprise, Miss Langford, to behold you as his companion, to see you holding a packet of letters with a downcast, abashed expression of countenance, and to hear her frank disclosure of your misdeeds to me, it appeared that she was defeating her own purpose of gaining me as a connexion, and therefore could only have been impelled by conscientious feelings to undeceive me." "There is probability in what you say," I replied; " and I now wonder no longer at the cold contempt you evinced towards me. I will not trouble you to relate to me your reasons for empowering my aunt to bear your proposals to Henrietta; I know you believed that sensitive young lady to be on the verge of an early grave, and pictured to yourself a pall borne by six maidens all dressed in white, and an epitaph setting forth that the gentle deceased damsel had loved not wisely but too well,' and had fallen a victim to the cruelty of her lover; or, more correctly speaking, loved one." "Some such phantom was certainly conjured up before me by your manoeuvring aunt," said Melmoth, "but I had not a long time to ponder ver the considerations she had suggested to me; my mother called to inquire after Miss Grantley's health that evening, and on her return she told me with perfect artlessness that Lady Piercefield had been greatly surprised to hear that she was expecting a visit from her younger son, having imagined that I was an only son, and the heir to the fortune of my grandfather. This conversation prevented me from feeling any surprise when, in the course of an hour, I received Lady Piercefield's exquisitely courteous and confidential billet, announcing the important fact that Henrietta was heartwhole, and secured by a seal bearing the motto, Friendship is love without wings.' This circumstance, however, although it opened my eyes to Lady Piercefield's scheming and manoeuvring character, did not give me any suspicion of the truth of her allegations against you; at the time she uttered them she believed me to be a wealthy heir, and she conceived me to be attached to you, she would therefore have fully realized her ambitious ideas by allowing matters to take their course. Do you wonder that I so argued?" "I do not indeed," I replied; " and now, having pronounced your acquittal, I cannot be easy till you have pronounced mine, not only from impulse, but from sober and deliberate reflection." I then related to him the attachment of Captain Maitland and Henrietta, and the part that my aunt had taken in promoting my secret interview with the former. I need not recapitulate his exclamations of anger for the guilty, and pity for the innocent. "Is it not, however," he added, " my duty to acquaint my brother with the conduct of his bride elect? gerous illness had greatly improved her charac "I think not," I replied; "I am convinced that Henrietta had no idea of my aunt's asper-usage, and vehemently declared that it was per sion of my character; Lady Piercefield merely fectly contemptible to marry for money, without requires her to obey directions, and never takes reflecting how completely her sarcasm proher into her counsels on any occasion when it is nounced her own condemnation. Lady Piercepossible to avoid it. I should have deeply and field's ill humour might easily be accounted for; truly grieved to have seen Henrietta the wife of I was about to disgrace her in the eyes of her a man of intellect and sensibility; but your own little world, inasmuch as I was the first of brother (pardon me for saying) would, if his her protégées who had ever engaged herself wa engagement with my cousin were dissolved, man of a narrow income, entirely dependent on most probably fix his choice on some one with his own exertions. She coldly took more than her foibles, and less than her good hand, and looked at me as if I were an incor qualities." rigible culprit come to triumph in my ingratitude to the best of friends. "This is a sad business, Mabel," she said, with an air of meek injured excellence, a sad termination to all my Melmoth instantly acquiesced with me, as he would have done if I had required his assent to a far more startling assertion; for Melmoth was about to offer his hand, heart, and countinghouse clerkship, to my acceptance; and I, having so little reason to love or respect my prudent aunt, very naturally forgot all her "old saws and modern instances" respecting eligibles, detrimentals, settlements, and lovematches; and at the end of an hour's conversation accepted his proposals, and promised him in exchange my heart's best affections and my two thousand pounds. Mrs. Melmoth, when informed of the result of our interview, welcomed me as her future daughter-in-law as warmly as if the capital of my little fortune had constituted my annual income; her late dan my offered anxious cares for your interest and well doing I only hope that you will yet think better of it. That," said I, with a smile, "is in m opinion impossible." 66 Consider," pursued Lady Piercefield, “what her a trial it will be to dear Henrietta to see sister-in-law married in such an inferior sphere. "Pardon me for laughing, my dear aunt," I replied, "but you put me in mind of a bookseller, who, when an authoress in his connexion committed an instance of misconduct which hurt the sale of her work, said, If she did not con sider herself or her friends, she ought to have considered her publisher!" I have made up my |