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About Google Book Search Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web at |http: //books .google .com/I ISIMFOIB UBRARY TALES OF FASHIONABLE LIFE. VOL. IV. I I TALES OF FASHIONABLE LIFE, BY MISS EDGEWORTH, // AUTHOR OF PRACTICAL EDUCATION) BELINDA, CAfTLS RACKRENTy ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS, Uc IN SIX VOLUMEa VOL. IV. COKTAIIIIlia VIVIAN. Tntta la gente in lieta fronte uiliva lie graziose e finte istorielle Ed i difetti alcrui tosto seoprira CiascunOy e non i proprj espiessi in quelle; O se de proprj sospettava, ignoti Credeali a ciascun altro, e a «e ool noti. LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON AND CO., ST. pall's church-yard. 1812. y; 6 kj- u \Q> 756424 Printed by C. Wood^ Poppin's Court, Fleet Street. * • PREFACE. THE following stories were pro- mised in the preface to the first volume of Tales of Fashionable Life; they were then withheld, bceause it was thought, that six volumes of such a slight texture would be too many to publish at one time. Two of the tales, J^ivian and Enulie de CoulangeSf had been nearly written ten years ago ; The Absentee alone was written lately. Miss Edgeworth's genera! views, in these stories, are explained in the preface to the first volume. I can- not, however, omit repeating, that public favour has not yet rendered A 3 J 11 PREFACE. her so presumptuous^ as to offer hastj effusions to her readers, but that she takes a longer time to revise what she writes, than the severe ancients required for the highest jspecies of moral fiction. Vivian exposes one of the most <:ommon defects of mankind. — To be ^^ infirm ofpurposey^ is to be at the mercy of the artful, or at the dis- posal of accident. Look round, and count the numbers, who have, with- in your own knowledge, failed from want of firmness 1 An excellent .and wise mother gave the following advice with her dying breath — *^ My son, learn early how to say. No!'' — ^This precept gave the first idea of the story of Vivian. '^ Emilie de Coulanges'' exposes a fault, into which the good and gene- JTOUS are liable to falL Great sacrifices and great benefits cannot frequently he made or con- ferred by private individuals ; but, evei-y day, kindness and attention to the common feelings of others is within the power, and may be the practice, of every age, and sex, and station. Common faults arc re- proved by all writers on morality ; but ihere are errours and defects^ that require to be treated in a llghtei- manner, and that come, with pro- priety, within the province of es- sayists and of writers for the stage. The Absentee is not intended as a censure upon those, whose duties, and emph>yments, and supe- rior talents, lead them to the capital ; but to warn the thoughtless and the unoccupied from seeking distinctitm by frivolous imitation of fashlim and ruinous waste of fortune. A country gentleman, or even a 'i IT PIIEFACE. nobleman, wlio does not sit in par- liament, may be as usefully and as honourably employed in Yorkshire, Mid Lothian, or Ireland, as at a club-bouse or an assembly in Lon- don. Irish agents are here described as of two diflerent species. That there have been bad and oppressive Irish agents, many gi'eat landed English proprietors have felt; that there are well informed, just, and honourable Irish agents, every day experience can testify. R. L. Edgewoeth. May 1812, LIST OF ALL THE WORKS WRITTEN BY MR. AND MISS EDGEWORTH ; PUBLISHED ONLY BV J. JOHNSON AND CO. tT« Paul's chvrch-yard. MISS EDGEWORTH^S WORKS. IT is painful to be obliged to address the public in a manner, that has at first sight the appearance of a mean art to attract notice* But as certain books have been published under tlie name of Miii Edgewortbi Mm. Edgewurtb, and Makia Edgetvortbi nmu qf which hatienoi that moral tendency, that alone canjuit\f^ a female for appear^ ing as an Author; her father thinks it due to his daughter, and to the rest qf his family, to request, that the public will not consider any work, under the name qf EoGEwoHTHy that is not published by Messrs. Johnson and Co., Su Paurs Cburch-yard, London^ as the production of any of his family, RlCHABD L0VEI.L EPGEWORTH, Kdgeworthstown^ Feb. 6, 1812, Correct List of' J\Jr. and Miss Edge- worth's tf^orks. Rational Primer, by Mr. Edgeworth. Early Lessons for Children, in Ten Parts. Parent's Assistant ; or, Stories for Children, 6 vols. Explanations of Poetrv, by Mr. Edge- worth. Essays on Practical Education, by Mr. and Miss Edgewoith, 2 vols. Professional Education, by Mr, Ed^- worth. Letters for Literary Ladies. Castle Rackrent. Essay on Bulls, by Mr. and Miss Edge- worth. Moral Tales, 3 vols. Belinda, 3 vols. Leonora, 2 vols. Grihelda. Popular Tales, 3 vols. Tales of Fashionable Life, 6 vols. PAIVIPHLETS. Letter to ^.ord Charlemont on the Telegraph, by Mr. Edgeworth. Mr. Edgeworth's Speeches in Par- liament. (% VIVIAN. » • ■* cc CHAPTER I. " To see the best, and yet the worst pursue." s • Is it possible," exclaimed Vivian, ^^ that ymi, Russell, uiy friend, iny best friend, cau tell me that this line is the motto of ray character! — To see the best, and yet the worst pursue. — Then you must think me either a villain or a madman. '' No," replied Russell calmly 5 /'I think you only weak." ' " Weak ! — but you must think me an ab^ solute fool." ^^ No, not a fool ; the weakness of which I accuse you is not a weakness of th^ understanding. I find no fault either with the logical or the mathematical part of your understanding. It is not erroneous in either of the two great points in. which Bacon says, that most meu*s mind^ be det VOL. I. B f « VIVIAN. ficient in the power of judging of conse- . quences, or in the power of estimating tho comparative value of objects." " Well," cried Vivian impatiently, *' but I don't want to hear, just now, what Bacoa says — but what you think. — Tell me all the faults of my chararter." "All! — unconscionable! — after the fa- tigue of this long day's journey," said Rm- sell, laughing. These two friends were, at this time, tra- veliiflg from Oxford to Vivian HnH, (iB — — shire,) the snperh seat of tJie Vj\-ia* fttHiHy, to which Vivian was heir. Mr* Russell, tlKuigh he was Init a few years older than Vivian, had been his tutor at college; and, by an uncommon tranf-ition, had, from his tutor, becouie his intimate friemi. After a pause, Vivian resumed — " Now I think irf" it, Rnssel!, you are to biame, if I have any faults. Don't yon say, that every thing is to be done by educatioa. Anrf we not yon — though by much toe yoang, and infinitely too handsome, tor a phikisopfeer — are not yon my guide, phi- losopher, and frieod?" " But I have hjicl the honour to be your gnide, philosopher, and tVitnil, only for these three years," said RiibscU: " I believe in the rational, bnt not io the magical power of education. How could 1 do or undo, in three years, the work of the precediug aeventeen." " Then, if you won't let me blame yoa, I ranst blame my mother." "Your motiierl — I had always under- stood that she had paid particular attentioa to ymir early education, and all the world says, that lady Mary Vivian, though a wo- man of fashion, is remarkably well inforuied aad domcKtif ; and, judging from those of ber letters, which you have shown me, I should think, that, for once, what all tlie world says is right." " What all the world says is right, and yet I am not wrong: — my mother is a very clever woman, and most affectionate, and she certainly paid particular attention to my early education; bnt her attention was too particular, hi;r care was too great. Yon know I was an only son — then I lost ray father when I was an infant; and a woman, let her be ever so sensible, ca.^'oss^. B 3 4 VIVIAN. ^dl educate an only son, without some manly assistance; the fonder she is of the * son the worse, even if her fondness is not foolish fondness — it makes her over anxious — it makes her do too much. My mother took too.much^ a great deal too much care of me; she over-educated, over-instructed, ovei- dosed me with premature lessons of pru- dence ; she was so afraid that I should ever do a foolish thing, or not say a wise one, that she prompted my every word, and guided my every action. So I grew up, seeing with her eyes, hearing with her ears, and judging with her understanding, till, at length, it was found out, that I had not eyes, ears, or understanding of my own. 'When 1 was between . twelve and thirteen, my mothei' began to think, that I was not sufficiently manly for my age, and that there was something too yielding and unde- cided in my character Yielding and unde- cided! — No wonder! — Had not I been from my cradle under .the necessity of always yield- ing, and in the habit of never deciding for myself! — Seized with a panic, my mother, to make a man of me in a trice, sent me to Harrow school. There I was, >yitb all VIVIAN. 4 convenient expedition, made ashamed o& every thing good I hail learned at himitr;^ and there I learaed every thing bad, uniL nothing good, that could he learnod at^ school. 1 was inferior in Latin and Cireek;j wnd this was a deficiency I couhl not make, np without more lahonr than I had couiagfr to iindeitake. I was snperior in general litEr; rature, but this was of little value amongst m^ competitors, and, therefore, I despised it^ and, overpowered hy nunihers and hy I'idifj'' cule, I was, of course, led into all sorts oSi folly, by mere mauua'inc. hoiite. Had I b«eU| in the habit of exercising my own judgment^ or had my resolution l>eeu strengthened by, degrees ; had I, iu short, been prepared i'or- a sehool; 1 might, perhaps, have acquired, h% a public e looking out of the window. " No, that's Glistonbury Casitle ; Ijnt,* farther off to the left, don't you see amongst. ' the trees that house with wings ?" I, "Ha! quite a new, modern house : lhad.b always fiincied tliat VivHan Hall was an ol she honoured him, nor even in consequence of her ladyship's frequent, and rather inju- dicious eiqiressioQs of her hopes, that her son would always preserve, and show himself worthy of such a friend. He joined in his mother's entreaties tt^ Russell to prolong bis risit; and, as her ladyship declared she thought it of essential consequence to her son's interest and future happiness, that he should, at this turn of }tis life, have such a companion, Russell con- ■ 12 VIVIAN. lented to remain with hiia some time longer^ All parties ivere thus pleased with eacti other, and remained united liy one commoii interest ahoiit the same objects, during se- veral weeks of ii deligbtfid smnnicr. — But, alas I this family harmonv, aiid tliis accord of reason and iritt, between the mother and 3DB, was not of longer dnration. As usual, there were fanlts on both sides. - Lady Mary Vivian, whose hopes of her son's distinguishing himself by his abilities had been much exalted, since his last return, from Oxford, had indulged herself hi pleas- ing anticipations of the time wheu he shonld make hIs' Jippearance in the fashionable, and in the political world. She foresaw the respect that wouki be paid to her, on his account, both by senators and by matrons ; 'by ministers, who might want to gain arising ciratorls vote, and by motliers, who might wish to make an excellent match for their daughters : nut only by all nvotbers, who Taad daughters to marry, but by all daugh- tfers, who had hearts or bands to dispose of, lady Mary felt secure of having her society courted. Now, she had rather extravagant expectations for her son : she expected him VIVIAN. IS to maiTT, so as to secure domestic liuppiness^ and, at the same time, to have tabhtoo, aod beatity, and rank, and high connexions, and every amiable quality in a wife. This visioli of a fnture daugliter-in-hnv contiimallyoccu-r pied her ladyship's iuiagination. ,\Ireadyi with maternal Alnascharism, she had, in her reveries, thrown back her head with dis- dain, as she repulsed the family advances of some wealthy, but low-born heiress, or a» ehe rejected the alliance of some of the new nobility. — Already she had arranged the very wordi of her answers to these, and de- termined the degrees and shades of her iiiti- inacies with those; already had she settled — " To wltoni to nod, wlioiii take into her coach. Whom honour with her hand ; " when one morning, as she sat at work, ab- sorbed in one of these reveries, she was so- far "rapt into fntnrc times," that, without perceiving that any body was present, she began to speak her thoughts, and said aloudr to herself — *' As if my son could possibly think of' herl" — Jler son, who was opposite to l\tt,\'^\ui^ u F I on a sofa, reading, or seeming to read, I started ap, and, putting down his book, ex- daimed, in a voice which showed at once that he was conscious of thinking of some particalar person, and deterinincd to persist in the thought, — " As if your son could possibly think of her! Of whom, ma'am?" " What's the matter, child r Are i-oh madi'" *' Not in the least, niiuiin ; but von Bud " " What ! " cried lady Mary, looking round ; " What did I say, that has occa- sioned so much disturbance ? — I was not conscious of saying any thing. — My dear Selina," continued her ladyship, appeal- ing to a young ludy, who sat very intent upon some drawing beside her, — " my dear Selina, you must have lieai-d ; what did I say?" The young lady looked embarrassed ; and the colour, which spread over her lace, brought a siidden suspicion into lady Maiys mind : her eye darted back upon her son ; — the suspicion, the fear was confirmed ; and she grew instantly pale, silent, and icbich sbe was 1 P vAimo- t«4«*ft ' vrviAN. breathle&E, in the attitn^ in wbich struck whb this jxinic The youn^ Ia she determined to continue to act in the mo5t hononrithlc manner towards her friend ; she had never, till tliis day, had the least idea that Vivian loved her; but the pie«i- 8»re she had for a motiient felt at the dis- coTery, or bare suspicion of his love, con- i viooed liei', that it wiis most piiident to retreat 1 intniedtately ; and qo false pride, or weak | ftelf-delusion, had, even in the moment when *he was most irritated by lady Mary's liaAlghty suspicions, prevented her from do- ing what she knew to be ri^lit, and to be best for her own happiness. Selina's ex- ^ske sensiliility could Ix; equalltd only by ber strong sense of duty; and, conscious of this real, btit concealed tenderness of heart, she was aware, that it refjiiired pecn- liar jjrudence to guard lieiself from the dangers of an unhappy pjtssion. She thought it most prob;d)le, that the love L which Vivian felt for her might only be df a transient nature, a passion such as young men fee! for the first pleasing yonng wo- VIVIAN. S3 tliey see, whit-ii is easily transferred to a new object. Vivian was not yet ot uge — of a fortnne fur superior to lier ex|>ectatiui)s — bis mother and his guardian disapproved of his attachment — tliis motlier was Se- Una's friend, and had treated her with the ntmost kindness. All tliese reasons coni- bJiied, determined iiuAS Sidney to avoid see- ing Viviao any more — an excK^lkat reso- hitioa, in which vn leave her, and return to her lover. A walk witli Rnssell had bronght lum " back in the full determination oi' avowing his attacbuient sincerely to Lis mother, and ef Epeakiiig to her ladyship in the moat re- spectful manner; but, wlien he found that miss Sidney was gone, anger and disap- pointment made him at once forget his pru- dence, and his intended respect ; he de- pltiretl, in tlie most passionate terin.'^, his love for SeUna Sidney, and his irrevocable determinution to pursue her, to the end of time and space, in s|)he of all o])])osition whatsoever from any person whatever. His mother, who was prepared for a scene of this sort, though not fiw one of this vio- lence, had suthcient command of temper to SH' VIVIAN, sustain it properly; her cnmrnand of ti per was, indeed, a little assisted by the ho] that this passion would be transitory in pro^ portion to it's vehemence, much by the con^ fidence she had in miss Sidney's honour^ and in her absence: lady Mai'v, therefoi-e,'. calmly disclaimed having; had any part iw persnading miss Sidney to that measure^ ivliich had so much enraged her lover; hxik4 her ladyship avowed, that, thongh it had no£j been necessary for her to suggest the meo^ sure, she highly approved of it, and admireji now, as she had ever admired, that young'J lady's prudent and noble conduct. Softened by the only thing, that could, at this cio^ ment, soften him — praise of his mistress — " Vivian, in a most affectionate manner, as-, snred his mother, that it was her warm eu-. logiams of miss Sidney, which had first- turned his attention to the perfectipns of her character; aiid lie now inquired what possible objections she coidd make to Iii^ choice. "With the generous enthusiasm of his disposition, heightened by all the elo- quence of love, he pleaded, that his fortune, was surelv sufficient to put him above mer- cenary considerations in the choice of a VIVIAN. 25 %vife ; that, in every point, except this one of money^ Selina Sidney was, in his mother's own opinion, superior to every other wo- man she conW name, or wish for, as a daughter-in-law. ^' But my tastes are not to bKnd me to your interests/* said lady Mary; ^^you iwre entitled to look for rank and high connexion; You are the representative of an ancient family, have talents to make a figure in public; and^ in short, prejudice or not, I confess it is one of the first wishes of my heart,- that you should marry into a noble family, or, at least, into one that shall strengthen your political interest, as well as secure your domestic happiness.^' Vivian, of course, cursed ambition, as all men do, whilst they are in love. His argu- ments and his eloquence, in favour of a pri- vate station, and of the joys of kamed lei" sure, a competence, and domestic bliss, were niorthy of the most renowned of ancient or modem philosophers. Russell was appealed to with much eagerness, both by mother and son, during their debates. He frankly declared to lady Mary, that he thought her son perfectly right in all he now ujged> VOL. I. c 9S/^ VIVIAN. an(l especially in bis opinion of miss Sidnoyj but, atthesanietimo," added Russell, "lap. prebend tbat lie s|>takB, at this uiomentM mpre from passion than from reason, and j^ fear, tliat, in the course of a few months, hflj might, perhaps, entirely, ch.-in^ his mind:. therefore, 1 think your ladyship, ie prodeot* in refusing, dnring the minority of your aoi your consent to a hasty union, of which hi^ inight afterwards rci)ent, and thus rendeoj both li^i&elf and a most amiable noma miserable." Ruspell, aftei' having given his opinio! witl^ the utmost freedouij when it was rOfl) qflired by lady Mary, assured her, that hflj| should no farther interfere; and be trusted^ his present sincerity would be the best pledgei to her of his future discreliuii and honour.j This equitable judgment and sincerity of, IlusseH's, at tirst, dispkiibod both partie«,i but, in time, operated upon the retison o{j both. Not, however, iKjfore contests bad goH on long and loud between ibe mother and soni — not before agreat deal of nonsense liiid beei talked on I>otb sides. People of tlie bestii abilities ofteu talk the most nonsense, wherftin their passions, are ccipt;?rned,.beca«8ei.tb^ VIVIAN. tj whole of thpir mgelmity is exercised to fintl argiimettts in favour of their folly. Thi-y are not, like tViols, content tn say, Vhis is mi/ tcili; bnt they piqno themselves m giving reasons iVir their will, and their easooB urc the I'ensoiis of madmen, excel- BDt'Tipoii false prciinises. It happened here, ■ *in most family quarrels, that the dispatants rt>uld' flot ailoir siifticiently for the prcjii- fices' and ernmrs incid«nt to their different The mother would not allow for the hnnantic notions of tlie son. nor could the • endaro tiie worldly views of the mother, soil, wiio h;id, m ytl, no espti'ience of (Be traafiitory nature of tiie passion of lore, tbooghthis mother nr.feeling;',ndbarl)arou.s ' for opposing him on the point where the whole happiness of Iiis hfe was concerned ; the mother, who hud seen the decline and fall of so many everliist'mg love.'i. considered him ouly as aperson in :ife\'er, and thought she prevented hmi,hy her calmness, ft-om doing that, which he would repent when he sbonld regain his sober senses. Without dctailini; the daily disputes. M'hich now aro;;o. it will be sufficient to mark the result. "S«' VI-VJAN. Vivian's lore liad been sileat, tranquil, and not, seemingly, of any great conse- <]uencc, tillitwasopposcd; bnt, from the in- stant tliat an obstade intervened, it ga- thered strength and force, and it jjresently rose ra|iidiy, with prodigious uproar, tlireat- ■euing to burst all bounds, and to destroy eveiy thing that stopped it's course. Lady Mary was now indined to try what eftect lessening the opposition might produce. To do her justice, she was also moved i» this by some nobler motives than fear; or, at least, her fears were not of a selfish kind: she dreaded, that Iter son's health and permanent bajipiness niigJit be injured by this violent passion ; she was appre- ihensive of becoming an object of his aver- .'Sion; of utterly losing bis confidence, and all power over his mind-, but, chiefly, . her generous temper was nuivcd and von by Seliua Sidney's ailmirablc conduct. During the whole tijiie, that Vivian used every means to see her, to write to her, and to con^'iIlCe licr of the friTour of his love, though he won all ber friends over to bis interests, though she heaid bis praises, from ' 5i vi\?iAN. af^ toorning till night, from all who surrounded her, and though her own heart, perhaps, pleaded more powerfully than all the rest in his favour, vet she never, for one instant, gave hhn the slightest enconrttgement. L.ady Mary's esteem and affection were so much increased by these strong proofs of friendship and honour, tliat her prejudices yielded; ami she at length declared, thdt if her son continned, till he was of age, to feel the same attachment for this amiahre girl, she would give her consent to tht>ir 'imion. But this, she added, she promise'd only on one condition — that her son should abstain from all attempts, in the interval, to see or correspond with miss Sidney, and that he should set ont immediately to travdl with Mr. Russell. Transported with love, and Joy, and victory, Vivian promised every thing that was reqnired of him, embraced his mother, and set ont upon his Travels. Allow," said he triumphantly to Rus- sell, as the chaise drove from the door, " allow, my good friend, that you were mis- taken in yotir fears of the weakness of my character, and of the yielding fticility of f0 VIVIAN, my temper. Yoo see how firm I hare hetn — j[Ou see wbat battle I have made — yop see how I have stoo^ out." " I never doubted," said Russell, "' your Ipve of yoar own free will — I never rloabted your fear of fating governed, especially Iw ysar mother ; bnt you do not expect, that I shoald allow this to be a proof of streugfjb Vf character." '* What ! do you suppose I act from low. ef njy own free will merely? — Do you cajl (By love for Sclina Sidney weakness ? Oht take care, Russell ; fur, if 1 once hnd yoj> pleading my mother's cause against yoitf co^sfience ." " ypjt will never find lue pleading aafy fUT^t against my conscience. I have to^ your mother, as 1 have told you, my opi- nion of miss Sidney— my firm opinion — th^t she is peculiarly calculated to make the' huppines^ of your life, provitled you coa- tiuue to love her." " Provided 1 — Oh !" cried Vivian, laugh- ing, " spare your musty provisoes, my dearA philosopher! Would upt any one think, ROW, yp« were sa old man of ninety ? if VIVIAN- 'SI lis is all jou have to ioar, I ant happy hindeed." " At present," said Russell calmly, '* I >bavc no tear, as I have post told your mo- ther, but that yon should cbaoge your miitd ■•^rfote you arc of age." Vivian grew tjnite indignant at this sng- digestion. " You are angry with me," said •JRassellj " and so was yonr mother; she angry becaose I said, I feared, in- Vctead of, I hoped, yon would chiingc yonr MiBind. Both parties are angry with me fbf Nftry sincerity." Sincerilyl^no; bnt I am angry with hyob for ytAir abSurd bospitions of my eon- Mancy." If they are absnird, yon need not be iMuigr^'," said Russell : " I shall be well pleased I see their absurdity demomtrated." " Then 1 can demonstrate it this moment." " Pardon me, nOt this moment; you iilst take time into the account. 1 mak« :*Bo doubt, htit that, at this moment, you heartily in love with miss Sidney; but thing to be proved is, that your passion nrill not deelioc in tbrce, io proportioa tf it 03 VIVIAN. meets with less resistance. If it does, you -*vill acknowledge, that it was more a Jove rf your own fi'ee wilt, than a love of yonr inistress, that has actuated yon, which was the thing to be proved." " HatcRil a. e. d.T" cried Vivian, " you shall see the contrary, and, at least, I wi!S triamph over yoa." , If Russell had ever nsed art, in his ma- nagement of Vivian's mind, ho might have' been snspectexl of using it in favour of miss Sidney at this instant; for this prephecy of Vivian's inconstancy was the most likely means to prevent it's accomplishment. Fre- quently, in the course of their tour, when Vivian was in any situation where his con- stancy was tempted, he recollected RussellV prediction, and was prond to remind him how much he had been mistaken. In short, the destined time for their return home ar~ .rived — Vivian presented himself before his mother, and clainaed her promise. She .was somewhat surprised, and a little disap- pointed, by our hero's constancy ; but she :CouId not retract her word ; and, since her rompliancr; was now unavoidable, she wa» VIVIAN. 3S ^termined that it should be grncjons. Sbe wrote to SeUna,. therefore, with great kind- saying, that whatever news of other connexions she might formerly have had " &r her son, she had now relinquished them, eonvinced, by the constancy of her son's at- tachment, .and by the merit of it's object, tiiat his own choice wonld most efFectnally ensure his happiness, and that of all hia friends. Her ladyship added expressions of "Tier reg,ard and esteem, and of the pleasure Ae felt in the thoughts of finding, in her ■daugliter-in-law, a friend and coni])anion; ose society was peculiarly agreeable to ier taste, and suited to her character. This fcttei* entirely dissipated Selina's scniples of conscience; Vivian's love and merit," all ins good', and all his agreeable qualities, had now full and nnreproved poiver to work apon her tender heart. His generous, open temper, his candour, his wai-m attachment io his friends, his cultivated understanding, 'Ma brilliant talents, his easy, weli-bredi igreeable manners, all heightened in their '^wer to please by the charm of love, jus'^ l:tii!ed, even in the eyes of the aged and pni- ient,- the passion he inspired. SeliTuv-ise-- c 5 i came ejEtremeiy attached to him, aad she loved with the delifihttul belief, that there was UQt, in the luiud oC her lover, the seed ot a tiiuglc vice, which tlivesteued danger to his virtu«» ur to their luutonl happiucsa. With Uis tisoal candour, he had laid opea his whole c'hiiractcr to her, as far as he knew it himself, and had warned her of . that vacillation of temper, that easiness to be led, wiiich Russell hnd pointed out as a rg marriage settlements could be drawn; iu)d,th« paxti^ were doomed. to waitfor thi VIVIAN; 35 arrival of some trustee who was with his regiment abroad. All these delays Vivian^ of course^ cursed ; but, upon the whole^ they were borx>e by him iVilh-lieroifc patience^ and by Selina with all the tranquillity of confid- ing love, happy in the present, and not too w CHAPTER II. "My dear Russell," said Vivian, "love sliall not make me forget friendship. Before I mai'ry, I must see you provided for. Be- lieve me, this was the first — one of the first pleasures 1 promised myself, in becoming master of a good fortmie. Other tlioughts, I confess, have put it out of my bead — so now, let me tell you at once — 1 hate paltry snrprises with my friends — I have, you know — or rather, probably, yoa do not know, for you are the most disinterested fellow 'upon Earth^ — I have an excellent living in ■ my gift: it shall he yours — consider it as such, from this moment. If I knew a more ■ deserving man, I would give it to him, upou * my honour — so you can't retiise me. The incumbent can't live long — he is an old, very old, infirm man ; you'll have the living in a year or two, and, in the mean time, stay with me. I ask it as a favour, from a frieod; and yoa see bow much 1 want a VIVIAN. 37 friend of yoar firm character ; and I hope you aee, also, how much I can value, in .others, the qualities in which I am m;^self deficient," Rnssell was mach pleased and touched "tiy Vivian's generous gratitude, and by the '.delicacy, as well as kindness, of the manner which he made this offer: but Russell conld not,, cousisteiitlv with his feelings or his principles, live in a state of dependant (idleness, waituig for a rich living and the ■death of an. old incanihent. He told Vinan, . >l2iat he bad too much afiertion for him, and too much respect for himself, ever to run the hazard of sinking from the rank of an inde>- !|)endent friend. After rallying him, without ieffect, on hh pride,Vivian acknowledged, that he was. forced to admire him the more for his ipirit. Lady Mary, too, who was a grea^t and sincere admirer of independence of ch^ iracter, warmly applauded Mr. Russell, and recommended him, in the highest terms, to ' a nobleman, in the neighbourhood, who Hiappened to.be in want of a preceptor for iliis eldest son. This nobleman was my ird Glistonbury : his lordship was eager to igage a person of RnsscU's reputiition for r ti^etits ; e« the affair was quickly arraogeJ, mill lady Mary Vivinn and ber son went tfr pay a morning visit ut Glistonbni'y Coetlfe, on pur|)i)se to accom|)any Rnsaell on big ftrit' introHnction to the family- As they ap- proached the castle, Vivian was stm(^ with it's venerable gothic appeHranre; he had not had a near view of it for gome ytars, and he looked at it with new eyet, Formerly, lie bad eeen it only as a pictu- resque ornament to the country ; but now that lie wiis himself possessor of an esttite' in the vicinity, he considered Glistoiibmy Castle as a point of comparison, which ren- dered bim dissatisfied with his own maH^ sion. As he drove up the avenue, and beheld tlie towers, turrets, battlements, anA massive entrance, his mother, who was a woman of taste, slTCngthened, by her ex- clamations on the beanty of gothic archi- tfectnre, the wish that was rising in his mind, tb convert his modem house into an ancient eastle ; she conid not help sighing, whilst she reflected, that if her son's aflections hact ntft been engaged, he might, perhaps, havtt obtained the heart and hand of one of thje fair- dnnghfers of this castle. Lady Maiy V I V r A pr. 39 Went no farther, ©«cn in her inmost thotigh^a, fur she was no doable deajtrp, no Mtrigante: Blie had ex|>ressed her dii^appoliitmcnt and 'ttngvv wiirmly and openly at first, when she beard of htr son's attachment to niiss Sid- ney i but that Tonng lady's i:onduct had now \roii her ladphtp's consent to h«r son's marriu^ ; and, iocapftble of donhle dealing, kdy Mary resolved nuver even to let hint know what her wishts hud buen with re- l8|KTt to a connexion with the (liistonbnry Nfaniily. But tlie very reserve -dad discretion •with which her ladyship spoke — a reserve K mutual with her, and uasuited tu the aa- nral warmth of her maniitir and temper — might have betrayed her to an acate an($ «ool obssrvet, Vivian, ho^vever, at this instaut, was tuo miuih tnteat upon castle- bnilding to admit any other idevitb a^igh^ " I think there are r 46* VIVIAN. the lady Lidhursts on the terrace. Anff here comes my lord Glistonbury with hiji ■on." 1 ** My pupil ? " said Russetl ; " I hope the^ youth is SHch as I can become attached toil* Life would be wretched indeed without aO-* tachment — of some sort or other. But H must not expect," added he, " to find a se*^ cond time a friend in a pupil — and such a1 irieud!" ^ Sentiment, or the expression of the ten*-' derness he felt for his friends, was so iin« -usual from Russell, that ithad tlouble effect^^ and Vivian was so much, struck by it, thalH he could scarcely collect his thoughts ii^ time to fipeak to lord Glistonbury, who! oame to receive his gnests, attended by three* hangers on of the family, a chaplain, a cap-i tain, and a young lawyer. His lordship* ■was scarcely past the meridian of life ; yet,S in spite of his gay and debonnair manner5i he looked old, as if he was paying for th'e* libertinism of his youth by piematnre de- • crepitude. His countenance announced'*^ pretensions to ability : his easy and affablft''^ address, and the facility with which he ex-* jffessed himselfj gained him credit, at firsts ■^ VIVIAN. 41 ibr much more understanding than he realhy (possessed. There wan a platisihility m all fbe said ; but, if it was cxiuuinetl, there was .nothing in it bat nonsense. Some of his .expressions appeared brilliant; some of his ■eotiinents jnxt; htit thtre >Fas a want of ^consistency, a want of a jiervading mimi [in his conversation, whidi, to good jndges, Strayed the trutli, that all his opinions ;flFere adopted, not formed ^ all his maxims (Common place ; his wit mere re|ietition ; his lense merely tact. 9Vfter proper thanks ^and compliments to lady Mary and Mr. Klvian, for securing for him snch a treasuie Mr. Ressell, he introduced lord Lid- -iiarst, a sickly, bashful, yet assured looking ,tioy of fourteen, to his new governor, with [polite expressions of unbounded confidence, and a rapid enunciation of undefined and contradictory expectations. ' Ml". Russell wiU, 1 am perfectly pep- iimitded, make Lidhurst every thing' we can idesire," said his lordship ; " an honour to ■Jlis country j an ornament to his family. iJt is my decided opinion, that man is but 1 bnudle of habits ; and it's ray maxim,. *tS VIVIAN. that wfucadon i« second uattire ~~jirsi, id- deed, ia many cast's. For, except that I am staggered about original geirios, I own t conceive, with Hartley, that early iniptes- sioQs and asMOciations are all in all : his vi- brations and vibratianclea are quite 'satis- factory. But what I particnlarly wish for X-idhnrst, sir, is, that he ehonld be trffinttl ai sotm as possible into a statesman. Mt*. Vivian, I presmnc, you mean to foUoW trp public business, and no doubt will make *a figure. So I ^TopHecy — and I am nsctl to these things. And from Lidhnrst, t«j, nixler similar tuition, I may with feasdn expect miracles — ' hope to hear him thtfflt- dering in the house of commons in a fefr years — ' confess 'am not quite so impatfent to have the yoong dog hi the house tf incuntblcs ; for yoa know he could not bb there without baing in my shoes, which f hare not done with yet — ha! hat hal Each in his toni, my boy ! — In the uJeM* time, iarty Mary, shall M-e join the ladiBfc yonder, on the terrare. Lady Glistonbnrjr. walks so slow, that she wll he seven houf» ^ia coming to vs, so we had b^t go to hri| VIVIAN. 43 Itgflygfaip — K Ae inoBQt^i won't go to jIlutfwMi^ yoe kaov, of course, vhat Om tJtteir way to the t«tTace, lord (^is- iPRbaryj who a}nay8 iKwd bimscif speak hvitb .singolar cowjptiioraicy, continued to bis ideiis oa education ; soinetiaies H^pealiog to Mr. RnsseU, sometimes happy 4e catch the eye of lady Mary. ' Now, my idea for Lidhurst is simj^ Ibis: — that he should know every thing ibat is in alt the best 4loc^ in the library, bnt yet that he shonld be the farthest poi- lible frou) a book-wwm — that he Ehould «ver, except in a set speech in the honse, bave the air of having opened a booh in his lUe — mother wit for ine i — m most cases ft— and that «lfiy style of oripinniity, ^vh^ch i^owa the true gentleman — As tu morals - Lidhnrst, walk on my boy as to norals, I confess I conldn't hear to see any liitng of the Juseph Surface about him. A ^yoath of spirit must, yon know, Mr. Viviasi -excuse me, lady Mary, this is an aside -be something of a latitadinarinn to keep in the fashion — not that I mean to say 9 oactly to Lidhurst — No. no ! ~ on thci f 44 VIVIAN. coBtraryj Mr. Russell, it is oor cue, as well as this reverend gentleman's," looking bade at the chaplain, who howed assent before be knew to what — " it is onr cne, an well as this reverend gentleman's, to preach pni- dence> and temperance, and all the cardinal virtnes." " Cardinal virtnes ! very good, faith ! ray lord," said the lawyer, looking at the cler- gyman. ** Tempei'ance !" repeated the cliapliuil, winking at the irilicPr ; " iipon my Boul, my lord, that's too bad." "Prudence!" repeated the captaii " that's too clean a cat at poor Wicksti my lord ." ' Before his lordship had time to preacli- aoy more prudence, they arrived within- bowing distance of the ladies, who had, i»-' deed, advanced at a very slow rate. Vivian was not acquainted with any of the ladies of the Glistonbury family; for they had,, till this summer, resided at another of their conntry seats, in a distant county. His mother had ofteu met them at parties in- town.. 4 Lady Glistonbury was a thin, stiffenecl,r liainu ste^ Battened figure — she was accompanied by l tiFo other female forms, one old, the other yoong; not each a diiFereiit grace, hut dike all three in angularity, and in a cold haughtiness of mien. After reconnoitring, nith their glasses, the party of gentlemen, ' these ladies cjulckened their step ; and lady Glistonbury, mitking hei' countenance as af- fable as it was in it's nature to be, ex- claimed — My dear lady Mary Vivian 1 have I -the pleasure to see your ladyship ? — They told , me it was only visitors to my lord," Mr. Vivian had then tlie honour of 'Veing introduced to her ladyship, to her eldest daughter, lady Sarah Lidhnrst, and M ^ miss Strictliuid, the governess. By all , iif these ladies lie was most graciously re- ceived ; but poor Russell was not so fortu- lunate ; nothing could be more cold and re- pulsive than their reception of him. This ' neut was unuotieed by Vi\ian, who was Ahgen, as his niothe>r observed, looking up at nmc of the turrets of the old castle. AU it's inhabitants were at tliis time uninteresting |» liim, exte[)t so far as they regarded his ftiead Rus&eU ; but the ca.stle itself absorbed ilu a.tteutiun. Lord Glistonbury, cluiruied to jscc how much he was struck by it, oAercd ito sIiDW him o«er every part of the edifice; Ma offer which he and lady Mary gladly ac- ■ccpted* Lady Glistonbury excused bei-self, professing to tje uoable to sustain, tha fa- r 4B« VIVIAN. tigue: she deputed her eldest daiigtter to' attend lady Mary in her stead ; aad thi» was the oaly nrcuiiistance which diini-- nished the pleasure to Vivian, for he waati obliged to show due courtesy to this stiffiJ taciturn damsel at every turn, whilst he was ' intent upon seeing the architecture of ihoW I castle, and the views from the windows ofl I the towers and loopholes of the galleries;' aU which iady Sarah pointed out with a' coiiKceremoniouE civility, and a formal ex-J aotsiess of proceeding, which enraged Vi- j vian'fi enthusiastic temper. The visit ended: I he railed half the time he was going home'^ 1 against their fair, or, aS he called licr, their" ^k petrified guide ; then, full of the gothicfi ^ beauties of Glistonbiiry, lie determined, aaH soon as possible, to turn his own modera^ house into a casUe. The very next morn- ing, be had an architect to view it, and ta esaniinc it's capabilities. It happened, that, about this time, several of the noblemen and gentry, in the county in which Vivian' resided, had been seized with this rage for I turning comfortable houses into uninhabit- I able castles. And, however perverse or H I imi)racticable this retrograde movement in >i I arcjjj lecture might seem, there ^vcre always i In- VIVIAN. 49 it hand professional projector), to conTineo gendeinei), that nothing was so feasible and t&Kj. Provided always, that gentlemeB ap- prove tbeir estimates, a« well as their plans, they nndertake to carry buildings back, in a trice, two, or three, or half a down een- tories, as may be re<|mred, to make tlieni gaChic, or saracenic, and to " add every grace, that time alone can give," A few days after Vivian had been at Ciiatonbury Castle, when lord Glistoiibury came to re- fcnrn the \ieit, Russell, who accompanied kis lordship, found his friend encompassed with plans and elevations. " Surely, my dear Vivian," said he, eisiDg the first montent he conld speak to him, " you are not going to spoil this excellent homte ? It is com- pletely finished, in handsome, modem ar- diitectnre, perfectly comfortable and con- Ttinieat, light, airy, large enmigb, warm vmms, wcjl distributed, with ample means ■f getting at eiich apartment; and, if vou : about to new model and transform it into a castle, yon must^ I see, by your plan, •Iter the proportions of almost every room, i spoil the comfort of the whole; turn VOL. r, D » square to round, and roiuid again to square ;. and, worse than all, turn light to rl»rkness — ■ only for the sake of having what is called a castlcj bnt what has not, in fact, any thing of the grandeur or BoHd inagnificeDce of a real ancient edifice. These modern, bahy- house miniatures of castles, which gent!e-i men ruin themselves to build, are, after all, the most piiltry, absurd things imagin- able." To this Vivian was, after some dispnte, forced to agree ; but he said, " that bia should not be a baby-house ; that he would go to any expense to imike it really mag- nificent." " As magnificent, I suppose, as Gliston- bnry Castle :" " If possible : — that iut liim soon afterwards, lie was convinced, that there was no living withoBt a castle, and :that ttie expense would be nf-rt to nothing tt all. Convinced, we shutild iiol say. For be yielded, against his conviction, from mere want oi power to resist reiterated soli- citations. He had no other motive ; for the enthusiasm raisetl by the view of Glis- tonhnry Castie bad passed away; he plainly ,w, what Russell had pointed out to him, lat be shonld spoil the inside of his house for the sake of the outside; and, for his own' ^srt, he preferred comfort to show. 'It was not, therefore, to please his own taste, J that lie ran into this imprudent expense, but ■ inerely to gratify the taste of otherfi. J Now the bustle of bnilding began, and ; workmen swarmed ronnd his bonse ; the ■foandations sunk, the scaflblds rose; and many times did Vivian sigh and repent, i when he saw bow much was to be nndone before any thing conid be done ; when he found his house dismantled, saw the good ceilings and elegant cornices knocked to pieces, saw the light domes and modem j sashes give way j all taken oat to be re- j 1 r I 'Si V 1 V I A N. placed, at profuse expense, by a clumBy iiaitatiuD of gutliic: how often did he sigft and falcnhite, when he saw the tribes of workmen file otF as their dinner beH rang! how often did he bless himself^ whe» he beheld the hnge beams of timber draggea- into his yards, and the solid masses of stone brought from a qnarry, at an enormons dis^ tance \ — Vivian perceived that the expense would be treble the estimate ; and said, that if the thing was to do again, he would never consent to it, bnt now, as lady Mary ob- setred, it was too late to repent ; and it waa, atany rate, best to go on and finish it with ■pint — • since it was impossible (nobody knows why) to sto2>. He hnrried on the workmen with impatience ; for he was anxl* oas to have the roof and some apartment* in his castle fini^ihed, beiore his maniagc, as be thought this would be an agreeable surprise to his bride. Thf diUitoriness of the lawyers, and the wiint ut' tbc trustee, who had not yet arrived in England, were no longer complained of so grievously by the lover. Rnssell, one day, as he saw Vi- vian overlooking his workmen, and urging them to expedition, smiled, and asked, whe- VIVIAN. 56 iLer the impatience of an arthitect, or uf 4 lover, was uow predoininiint in liis mind. Vivian, nitlier ofleuilcd by die question, re- lied, tliat his eageraess to fiiiibh this part flf his ciistle arose from liis desire to give AD ngrceabk surprise to bis liride ; and he ^clared, tliat his passion for Selina was as «dent, at this moment, as it had ever been ; «twt that it was impossible to make lawyers aBove fiister than their accustomed pace ; 'ind that miss Sidney was too secure of his ■ftSection, and \is too well convinced others, to feel that sort of anxiety, which persons, *lio had less confidence in each other, anight experience in similar circumstances. iQThis was all very tme, and very reasonable ; but Russell could not help perceiving, that iTivian's language and tone were somewhat iltered since the time when he was ready [o brave Heaven and Earth to marry his mistress, without license or consent of fiends, without the possibility of waiting a niew mouths, till he was of age. In fact, iitiiotigh Vivian would not allow it, this Consent of friends, this ceasing of opposi- this security and tranquillity of hap- qiiuess, had considerably changed the ap- r jOt6 VIVIAN, pearance, at least, of hU love. I>ady Mar^r perceived it, \r\t\i a rt; soltitiuii to say nothiag^ iuid see liew it ^totild end. Seliaa did noft peri'«rve it for some time ; tor sbc was o€. a most uuisuspiciuus. temper ; and her coibs £dence ia Vivian was et^ual to tht^ fundiieeft of ber lov€. SLe began to think, indeed that tbe lawyers ^vere provokingiy alow^ and, wh«il Vivian did nut blatiie theiu 10^^ mueli is be us«d to do, bhtf only thouglit^ that he iinderstoed Uisiiiess ijettcr than sh* did — besides, th« necessary trustee was nofe come — and, in short, the last thing tludn occurred to ber mind was to blanie Vivian..- . Tbe trustee at length arrived, and tW castle was almost in the wished for state afi foi-waidness, when a new cause of delay^ aroee — a county election: hot how electioQ was bronght on, and how it wa»l condncted, it is necessary to record, ife^t happened, that a relation oi' Vivian's wasf appointed to a new seventy-four gnn shif^ , of which he came to take the command at PlymtHith, which wa« within a few miles of-, him. Vivian lecollectetl, Uiat his friend «* Russell had often expressed a desire to ^J on boaj:d a man of war. Vivian, therefurcji VIVIAN. 57 after having appointed a day for their go- h^, went to Glistonlrary, to invite Rtisselt : bis popil, lord Lidhurst, hegged to be per- mitted to accompany them : and lady Jullft, the moment she heard of this new scventf- faur gTin ship, was, aa her governess ex- jiressed it^ wild to be of' the party. Indeed, sny thing, that had the name of a partv of pleasure, and that promised a transient re- lief from the tedioas monotony in which her iavs passed ; anv thing, that tjave a (:h«nce •f even a few hours' release from the bon* in wliich she was held between the i"e- lltraints of the most rigid of governesses 4ltd the prondest of mothers, iippeiired de- fightfol tu this Hvely and cliildlsh girl. She Jersecnted her governess with entreaties', jtill at last ahc made miss Strictland go with Iter petition to lady Glistonhary ; wliilaP, tli« mean time, lady Jnlia overwhelmed tathcr with CLiresse?, till he consfented'; \i, with rnnch diffienlty, prevailed np6a Ijady Glietonbnry to give her permissicrft ir the young ladies to go with their goi- irae33, their brother, their father, an3 dy Mary Vivian, on this excupsion. The UvitatioD was now extended to all th^ com'- D 5 r i^ VIVIAN, pany then at the castle; inclnding the re- presentative of the county, who, Ijeing jost threatened with a fit of the gout, hrougbt on hy hard drinking at the last election, expressed some relnctance to going ■with this party on the water. But this gentle- man was now paying liis hmnhle devoirs to the lady Sarali Lidhurst ; and it was repre- sented to him, Ijy all who understood the ground, that he would give mortal offence, if he did not go ; so it was mled, that, hot or cold, gout or no gout, he mnst appear in the lady Sarah's train : he suhmitted to this pferilous necessity in the most gallant manner. The day proved tolerably fine — Vivian had an elegant entertainment pro- vided for the company, niider a marquee, pitched on the shore — they embarked in a pleasure boat — lady Sarah was very sick, and her admirer very cold ; hut lady Julia was in ecstasies at every thing she saw and felt -^ she feared nothing, found nothing incoftveoient — was charmed to be drawn so easily from the boat up the high side of the ship — charmed to find herself on deck • — charmed to see tlie sails, the ropes, the rlggiiig, the waves^ the sea, the snn, th« clouds, the sailors, the cook dressing din- 4 ner — all, all iDdiscriminately channed her; .fl Mad, like a sfhool girl broke loose, she ran >\ .about, wild with spirits, asking questions, | some sensible, some silly; laughing at her * own folly, flying from this aide to that, '| from one end of the ship to the other, down i] 'tile ladders, and up again, whilst Mr. Ros- ,■; lell, who was deputed to take care of her, - ' ;conld scarcely keep up with her: lord Glis- li itonbnry stood by, holding his sides and i^ llaughing aloud: miss Strictland, quite dis- 4 tabled by the smell of the ship, was lying on J I bed, in the state cabin -, and lady Saj'ah, « I ell the time, shaded by an umbrella, held t 4)y her shivering admirer, sat, as if chained i iSpright, in her chair of state, upon deck, | VL-oruing her sister's childl-ih levity, and 4 (jiroving herself, with all due propriety) in- 4 »pable of being moved to surprise or ad- ^ oiration by any object on land or sea. Lady Mary Vivian, while she observed, with a quick eye, all that passed, and read ther son's thoughts, was tiilly persuaded, 4 ►that neither of the lady Lidhursts would ^ lie likely to suit his taste, even if his afiec- tions were disengaged: tfie one was too 1 childish, the otlier too stiff. " Yet theiv birth and conni-xitins, and their consequencs in the county," thonght lady Mary, " wonld have made their alliance highly desirable." Every body seemed wearv at the close of thi». day's entei'taiumeat, except lady Julia, who kept it up with indefatigable gayety, and 4:ouId hardly believe, that it was tiroe to gU Irome, when the boat was announced to rovr them to shore: heedless, and absolntely<, dizzy with talking and laughing, her lady^t ship, escaping Iroin tlie assistance of satlorS and gentlemen, made a ftJse stejj in getting' into the boat, and, falling over, would liavi rank for ever, but for Mr. Hnssell's preseiwM of mind. He seized her with a strong grasp, and saved her. Tlie fright soberoift her completely ; and she sat, ivrappcd Iw great coats, as silent,- as tractable, and as wet as possible, during tlie remaindeS' of the way to shore. The screams, the. ejaculations, tlie reprimands from missi Strictland ; the qnestions, the reflection^, to which this incident led, may possibly ba conceived, but cannot be enumerated, Tbia event, however alarming at the mcnt, had no serious consequences for lady VIVIAN. 6] Julia, nbo caiight neither f«Ver nor col^ though miss Strictland was tiioi-ally certain her ladyship would have one or the other j: Indeed she insinnated, that her ladTsbip- deserved to have hoth. Lady Sarah's ]}oor sbiverii^ knight of the shire, however, ditf not escape so well. Obliged to row home;. in n damp evening, without his great coafyi which he had been forced to offer to lad^ Jnlia, io a pleasure boat, when he should have been ia ilannelt, or ut bed, he hadi " Cause to me tlie boating of this day.1 His usual panacea of the gout did not come^ an expected, to set him up again. The cold he cuoght tliis day killed bim. Lady Saralr Ltdhnrst was precisely as sorry as decoruiie recinired. But the bustle of a new electioit was soon to obliterate tlie memory of th& old member, in the minds of his nmneroTts friends. Lord Gli&tonbuiT, and several other voices in the county, called npon Vivian to stand on the independent intereat* There was to be a contest ; for a govemfj inent candidate declared himself at thai eane niometit that application was made tar Vivian. Tlie expense of a contested ele(]|| tiou alarmed both \''iviaii and his motbw r W VIVIAN. Gratified as she was, hy the honour of this^ offer, yet she had the prudence to advise i her son, rather to go into parliament as re- -J presentative for a horoiigh, than to hazard J the expense of a contest for the county; id Miss Sidney, also, whom he consulted upon * this occasion, supported his mother's pni- • dent advice, in the most earnest manoeri^ and Vivian was inclined to follow this * counsel, till lord Glistonbory came oneU morning to plead the contrary sich' of the '^ question : he assnfed Vivian, that, from hii 4 experience of tlie county, he was morally ^ Certain they should carry it without tronlile-, • and with no expense toortk mentioning. 4 These were only general phrases, to be sure, 1 not arguments ; but fliese, joined to her am- -^ bition, to see her son memlier for the county, 1 at length overpowered lady Mary's hettcF 4 judgment: her urgent entreaties were now 4 joined to those of lord GHstonbnry, and of i many loud tongued electioneerers, who i^ proved to Vivian, by every thing but cal- 4^ ctdation, that he must be returned, if he *|j ■would but stand — if he would only declare i himself. Russell and his own prudence ■ 4 itrongly counselled him to resist these cla- i VIVIAN. 63 morons importunities ; the two preceding candidates, wliose fortunes bad been nearly , as good as his, had been mined hy the con- tests. Vivian was very yonng;, bnt jiist of age; and Russell observed, "that it woold be better for him to see something more of the world, before he should embark in po^ litics, and plunge into public business" . *' True," said Vivian; "bnt Mr. Pitt wa« only three and twenty, when he was minister' of England. I am not ambitious, bnt I should, certainly, like to di.stinguish myself, if I could; and whilst I teel in yonth the glow of patriotism^ why should not I serv* my country?" " Ser\-e it, and welcome," said Russell;, " hut don't begin by raining yourself by a Contested election, or else, whatever glow of. patriotism you may feel, it will be out of your power to be an lionest member of par- liament. If you must go into parliament, immediately, for the good of yonr countr^ go in as member for some borongh, whicKi will not ruin you." " But the committee of our friends Avift be so disappoiuted, if I decline; and inj mother, who has now eet her heart upon iq I #ft VIVIAN. I and lord Gliatoiibory, and Mr. C— , an2 I Mr. G , and Mr. D ,ivbo are sachzea- S lous friends, and whourge me so much ." I" Judge tor yourself," said Russell; "and don't let any persons, who happen to be t tiear you, persuade you to see with their I eyeSf and decide with their wishes. Zealons I friends, indeed! — because they lovetoniak& i themselves of" consequence, by bawling and ecauipering abont at an election ! — And you Would let such people draw you on to ruio ^ yourself," t " I will show yen, that they shall not," cried Vivian, seizing a sheet of paper, and ^ sitting down iainiediately to write the copy g of a circular letter to his friends, informing them, with many thanks, that he declined to stand for the founty. Ruasell eagerly ]| ■wrote copies of this letter, which Viviaii de- clared should be sent early the next morrkiug. But no sooner was Russell out of sight, than lady Mary Vivian resumed her aliments in favour of commencing hte canvass imme- diately, and before his friends should cool. When she saw the letters, that he had been writmg, she was excessively indignaat ; and, I 1»y a torrent of female aud Watermil elo- VIVJAN. as qneace, he was absolutelr oTfrwlitlmed. Auiiliaries poured in to h«r ladyship on ail jides; horseman utter horseman, tVeehotders, of all decrees, bow flocked to the house, hear- ii^ that Mr. Vivian had thoughts of itand- iiig for the rountv. They were nnani- moiiiily loud in tlieir axsuriLiices of sncccss. Old Mid new copies at' poll b(n>k3 Mera pro- duced, and the different interests of the county counted and recounted, Imlanced and couiw terbalauced, again and aguiii, bvesich pereon, jCtfter his own fashion , and it was proved to ^r. Vivian, in black and tckite, and as plain ma figures could malce it, that he had tlie g:ame in his own hands ; and that, if he flvoold but declare himself, the otfan- caa- ^idate would, the very next day, they would be bound for it, decline the contest. Vi- dian liad a elear head, and a competent knowledge of arithmetic: he naw the fBll»- , ties and iailccnracies in their modes of coni- fiatatioQ ; be saw, upon examining the books, that tlie state of tlie county iote- ' rests was very diflereut from what they pre- tended or believed; and he was convinced,^ lliat tlie opposite candidate would not de>- clJae : but, after ^''ivian had stated these rea* Mfl6 V I V r A N. Aons ten times, and bis mother and his electioneering partisans had reiterated their assertions twenty times, lie yielded, merely because they liad niiid twice as much as he had, and because, poor easy man ! he had not power to resist continuity of solicitation. He declared himself candidate for the county ; and was soon immersed in all the toil, trouble, vexation, and expense of a contested election. Of course, his marriage was now to be postponed, till the election should he over. Love and county politics have little affinity. What the evils of a ■contested election are can be fiilly known only to those, by whom they have been personally experienced. The contest was bitter. The Glistonbtiry interest was the strongest of all who supported Vivian: lord Glistonbury and his lordship's friends were warm in his cause. Not that they had any particular regard for Vivian ; but he waa to be their member, oppost^d to the court candidate, whom his lordship was anxious to keep out of the county. Lord Gliston- hury had once been a strong friend to go- vernment, and was thought a confirmed corn-tier, especially as he had been brought VIVIAN. ti? tip ill high, aristocratic ootions; but he had made it bis ^reat object to turn bis earldom jtito a inanjiiisate: and government havinfj delayed, or refused to grsitit'y him in this ]>oint, he qnitted them with disgust, and , (et iij) his standard amongst the opposition. He was now loud and zealous on every oc- rasioQ that conld, as he said, annoy govern- ment; aad, merely becanse he conld not be a marquis, he became a patriot. Mis- taken, abused name! how glorious in it's ori- ginal, how despicable in it's debased signi- fication! Lord Giiatonbury's exertions were indefatigable. Vivian felt much gratitude for this ap- parently disinterested friendship; and, dur- ing a few weeks, whilst this canvass was going on, he formed a degree of intimacy with the Glistonbury family; which, in any •Other circumstances, conld scarcely have ibeen brought about during months or ^fears. Au election, in England, seems, tfor the time, to level all distinctions, not .only of rank, bftt even of pride : lady Glia- itonbnry herself, at this season, found it ne- *fce88ary to relax from her usual rigidity. There was an extraordinary freedom of r egress and recess ; and tlie haughty code of GUstoohnry lay dormant. Vivian, of eonrse, was the centre of all interest; an^ whenever he ap|)eared, every iDdividnal of the family was eager to inqnii-e, " What Bews^ — What news? — How do things g» on to day? — How will the election tncff ont? — Have yon written to Mr. snch c one ? — Have yon been to Mr. such a one's ?— I'll write a note for you — I'll copy a letter.*^ There was one commoti eansc — miBT- Slrictland even deigned to assist Mr, Vivio^i and to try her awkward hand to forwai'd his canvass, for it was to auppm-t the GHston- bury interest i and " there was no impro- priety L-ouId attach to the thing." Rnsseir* extreme anxiety made Vivian call more fr^- qaently even than it was necessary at the- eastle, to quiet bis apprehensions, and tif assure him, that things were going on welC Young lord Lidhnrst, who was really good Matured,, and over whose mind Russell bfrJ gan to gain some ascendaHfy, used to stand epon the watch for Vivian's appearanco, and would run up the back stairs to Russell's apartment, to give Iiim notice of it, and to he the first to tell the news. Lady Sarah — • VIVIAN. 69 the icy lady Sarah heraeif — began to thaw; and every day, Id the eamc phrase, she con- ^cended to say to Mr. Vivian, that she *' hoped the poll was going on as well at -could be expected." It was, of conrse, reported, that Vivian was to succeed the late representative of the county in all his hononrs. In eight diiys, he was confidently giveuto lady Sarah, by the generous pnblic ; and the day of their iHiptials was positively fixed. As the lady was, even by the acconnt .of her friends, two or three years oldw than Mr. Vivian, and fonr or five years older by ■her looks, and as she was jwcnliarly nn- niited to bis taste, he lieard the report with- [ iSat the slightest apprebension for his own k^COBstancy to Selina. He laughed at the fea, as an excellent joke, when it was first [cntioned to him by Rnssell. Lord Giis- lonbury's laanners, however, and the cordial hmiiiarity with which he treated Vivian, , every day, increasing credit to the •t. " If he was bis son, iny lord conld be more aaaiona about Mr, Vivian," one of the plain spoken freeholders, 1 the presence of the lady Lidbnrsts. f_ Sarah pursed up her mouth, and ^tvev f# V 1 V i A s. back her head; but lady Julia, archly loc ing at her sister, ttiiilleiJ. The vivacity lady Julia's uianner did not appear excessiTi during this election time, when all the worli seemed mad; on the contraiy, there was, her utmost freedom and raillery, that air good breeding and politeness, in which gar mirth and liberty are always deficienl Vivian began to think, that she was becoiMi less childish, and that there was somethiogj of a mixture of womanish timidity in Iier ap^ pearance, which rendered her infinitely mo^R attractive. One evening, in partit-ular, whei her father having sent her for her niornii work, she returned with a basket full of Vivian cockade, which she had made with hcQ own deUcatc hands, Vivian thought she lookv ed " veiy pretty:" her father desired her C(f liive them to the person for whom they wertt. intended, and she presented them to Mrj Russell, saying, " Tliey are for your friends- sir." — Vivian thought she looked " verjs gritcefol." — Lady Aiary Vivian snppresse^ half a sigh, and thought sl^ kept the whoW of her mind to herself. These Iiappy dayft of canvassing, and this y)Te(/o»i oj' election ^ could not last for ever. After polling^tht mam Thed 1 fecnnty to tlie last freeholder, the tontest »as at leDgth decided, and Vivian was de- dared duly elected. He was chaired, and e scattered laoDey with a lavish hand, as e passed over the heads of the huzzaing populace; and he bad all the honours of an velection : the horses were taken from his ■ carriage, and he was drawn by men, who were, soon afterwards, so much intoxicated, .that tltey retained no vestige of rationality. tJJot only the inferior, but the superior rank f electors, as usual npon snch occasions, ihnught proper to do honour to their choice, ■Bnd to their powers of judgment, by drink- iDg their member's health, at the expense iof their own, till they couhl neither see, tear, nor understand. Our hero was not, ■ any means, fond of drinking, but he tonld not reliise to do as others did; and lord Glistonbury swore, that now he liad [found out, that Vivian could be such aplea- lant companion ovi:r a botUe, he should laever listen to his excuses in future, A few days after this election, parliament (jnet for the diapatch of business; and as ^ome important <[uestion was to come ou, if.theiPiembCTs were Bommoped, I aVk VIVIAN, remptory call of the hoase. Vnian vns> obliged to go to town iminediatety, tati compelled to de&r his maniacs. He re- gretted beiQg thus hiirried avruy from Se> lina; and, with a thousand tender ami paa- si(Hiate expressions, assured her, tliat tb«i moment his atteodance on public boainessrJ ceuld lie spared, he sbonld liaEtsu to the country, to claim his promised happiness. ITie castle would l>e tioi&hed by the time the session was over ; the lawyers wurtant actions, yield bis judgment VIVIAN 7'' ' to others ; atid iheti What security could she lave for his principles ? — He might periiaps, lie led into all «orts df fashionable dissipa- lioii and vice. Heside these fears, she considered, that Vidian was the possessor of a large fortune; that his mother had with difliculty consented to this match ; tliat he was very young, had seen but Httle of the world, and might, jierhaps, in fiitore, ifpent ot having made, tlHi.4 early iii life, a love match. She, therefore, absolutely reftised to iet liiiu now bind himself to her by any fresh promises. Site desired, that he should consider himself as perfectly at liberly, and released from all engagement to her. Il was evideot, however, from the manner in which, she spoke, that she wished to restore her lover's liberty for his sake only; and that Iier own feelings, however tliey might be suppressed, were unchanged. Vivian was toadied and charmed by l>er delicacy and generosity: in the fervour of his feclingg lie swore, that his adi^ctioiis could never ciiange ; and be believed what he swore. — Lady Mary A'ivian was struck, also, with miss Sidney's conduct at this parting; and she acknowledged, that it was impossible to VOL. V. E 't* VIVIAN, sho* at once more tenderaess- asti No. one, however, not even Vivji knew how much pain thia separation gave Selina. Hev good sense iiiul prudence told her, iudeed, that it was best^ both for her happiness and Vivian's, tliat he should see something more of tlie world, and that she should liave souie farther jjroof of tlie stea- diness of his attaclinieut, before she sUonlA unite herself with him irrevocablyj but^ whilst she endeavoured to fortify her inindi with these reflectioiiB, love inspired paiaful f^arb ; and, though sfaeucverrepenteA having set him free finom his promises a engagements, she trembled for the conseM peaces of his being thus at liiiei'ty, in s\xdm scenes of temptatiou,' as a London life wool present. " My dear," said Mrs. Sidney ta la daughter, " the session will soon be over ; (unsure it will be a very short one. Andthei is not the least danger — especially alter yoi having behaved so nobly — there is not tha least danger, that Vivian's heart can changes No, nor his conduct in any respect; fioi^ though bis fortune and station may put hi] m the way of dissipated companions,. yet VIVIAN. 75 lias sacb good principles, and such an ex- wllent disposition, that I feel (juite secure of him." . " But then he is so easily led," said Selina. " That's true, toy dear. But you will find', that lie will never he led to do any thing urong. I wish," as Mt. Russell says, " he bad not been persuaded to build this expeti- wve castle, and to go iuto all the expense of Aia contested election; however, there's Bothing wrong in all this. Every young Ban, who comes early into possession of "a large fortune, squanders away money on some folly or other ; and there's no reason to fear, Iwcahse lie was overpersuaded ia tfiese cases, which were mere matters of te and opinion, that he should yield to th< :ample or entreaties of others where prin- ciple is concerned ; depend upon it, my dear, 5 will return to us worthy of you. There no preservative, foi" a young man, better lanan attachment to an aniiable woman." " I suppose this call of the house most :e lord Glistonbury to town," said. Selina : I wish 1 knew whether all the family go W m f^^ CHAFfER III. ^^^ When our hero arrived in London, an| when he was first introduced into fashionJ fthle society, his thonghts were so intend npon Selina Sidney, that he was in no datfl gcr of phmging into dissii>ation. He wi| surprised at the eagerness with -which soni|| young mem pursued fnvolous pleasures: hfl WHS still more astonished at seeing the aps^ thy in which others, of his own age, werri sunk, and the listless insignifjcanre i^ which they lounged away their lives. »< The Ciiil of the house, which hronghl Vivian to town, brought lord Glistonbun^ also, to attend his duty in the honse-of peera* with his lordsliip's family came Mr. RusselljT tvhom Vivian went to see, as soon and a4 often as he could. Russell heard, -witli sar4 tisfattion, the indignant eloquence witW which his friend spoke; and only wished' fhat th(*e sentiments might last, and that'll fashion might never lead him to hukate or"^ to tt-lorate fools, whom he now despised. '1 J VT V I A N. ■ TT- •* Fn the mean time, tell me how* you* ga^ on yourself/' said Vivian ; " how yoti like^ your situation here, and your pupil, and^ all the Glistonbury family. Let me l)ehind the scenes, at once; for, you know, I see^ lliem only on^ the stage.'* Russell replied, ii> general tferms, that- he had hopes lord Lidhurst would turn out' well ; and that, therefore, he was satisfied* with his situation; but avoided ent|ring' into particulars, because he was a confi-' den tial person in the family. He thought,* that a preceptor and a physician were, iiy- some respects, bound, by a siuiilar species of honour, to speak cautiously of the maladies* of their patients^ or the faults^ of their' pupils. ' Admitted into the secrets af families^ they should never make use of the confidence re-' posed in them, to. the disadvantage qf any^ by whom they are trusted; RusseH's strictly '. honourable reserve, upon this occasion, was » rather provokhig to Vivian^ who, to all' his questions, could obtain only the dry answer of — "Judge for yourself."^ — The natine ot ft town life, and the sort of intercourse which capital cities affords, put this very little in Vivian's power. The obligations lie was ni)<]er to Lord GlistoiibHry, for as-' Siistonce at tJtua dedjou, made hjra anxioi to show bis torcU)ii(» rcsjjeet and attention H and the sort ot" intjojacy, which that elettiooi" had broHght mi, was, to a certain degree^ kept lip in town. Lady Mary Vivian wn9^ cmtptautly one ttt lab! served, that it wa« a great advantage to hetf SOD to have sntli a house as lord GlistonV, I)ury's open to him, to go to whenever he^ pleased. Besides the advantage to hiart morals, her ladyship was by no means in.^' sensible t9 the gmtification her pride i*e»> ceived from her son's living in such high" company. The report, which had beeU' raised in the country, during the election,' VIVIAN. 79 tbat Mr. ^'(viall was going 10 be married to iadj- Sarali Lidburst, bow b^an to circa- Jat« in town. This was not snqirisin^, since a young i»an, in London, «f any for- twie or notoriety, can hnriUy daiit-e three or foar times, 8HccessI%'e1y, mHiIi t)ic same young lady; cannot even sit beside ber, and Converse with her, in {mblic, half a dozen tknes, without it's being reported, tliat he is go- ing to be married to her. Of this, Vidian, dur- ing his novidate in town, was not, perhaps, snrticiendv aware : he was soon surprised at being asked, by almost every one he met, when his marriuge with hidy Sarah Lid- buret wa« to tfdie plaoe. At first, he con- te «8W a \TO4nan I was less disposed to ISie — wbom it would be more impossible for me to love — than lady Sarnh Lidhurst ; and, I am sui?, I never gave her, or any of her fe- nily, tbe least reftsoia ta unagifie 1 h^ a flionght of her." " \'ery likety ; yet j-oti are jit lord Glis- tonbury's contanaally, aofl yoa attend Tier ladyship to all piil)lic places. Is this the way, do you think, to pnt a stop to the re- port, that has been raised?" ■ I care fiOt whether it stops or goes ' saidViviaii. "How !-^Don't I kaoW it is false? — That's enongh for me." •* It Bfliay embatpass yon yet," said Rus- H. " Gtaod Heavens ! — Can yon, whoknoW me ■o well, RiisSel), fancy me so weak, as to be «nbarrassed by snch a report? Look! — I -would rather put this hand into that fire, Mnd l«t it ht burned off, than offer it to latty ;Sarah Lidhurst." ' Very likely — 1 don't dotibt you think «©," said Rllssell. ^ Ami I would do so," eaid Vivian. *' pQieibly.— Yet you might be emhar- P^4 VIVIAN. I T£Lssed, uevertheless, If yovi found that yon lad raised expectations wbich you coold not fulfil ; and if you found yourself ac- cused of having jihed this lady; if all her friends were to say you had used her very ill. — I know your nuture, Vivian; these things would disquiet you very luuch: and is rt not better to prevent them ?" " But neither lady Sarah nor her friends blanie me; I see no Bigns, in the family, oi* any of the thoughts or feelings you sup- pose." " Ladies — especially young and fashion- ahle ladies — do not always show their- thoughts or feelings," said Russell, " Lady Sarah Lidlmrst has no thot^hls or feelings," said Vivian, "no more than an- automaton. I'll answer for her — I ain sure I can do her the justice to proclaim, that she has always, from the first moment I saw her, till this instant, condncted her- self, towards me, with the same petrified and petrifying pro])riety." " I do not know what petrified propriety exactly means," said Russell: " but, let it mean what it may, it is nothing to the pre- sent purpose ; for tlie qneslioa is not abont VIVIAN. S3 the propriety of lady Saniij Lidliiirst's cou- iJuct, but of yours. Now, allowing you to call her ladyship a petrifaction, or ua auto* niaton,or by whatever other name yon please, sdU, Lapprehetid, that she is, iu reality, a hnman creature, and a woman ; and I con- ceive it is the duty of a man of honour, or - boiiesty, not to deceive hei"." " 1 would not deceive her, or any woman living, npoD any account," saidViWan. "But Jiow is it possible I can deceive her, wheii 1 tell you, I never said a word aliout love or gallantry, or any thing like it, to her in my ray lifer" " But you kimw language is conventional, especially in gallantry," said Russell. '* True; but I'll swear the language of my l0(^s has been unecjuivocal, if that i* what yon mean ? " " Not exactly : there are certain signs, by which the world JUDGES in these cases — if a gentleman is seen often with the sama lady ill public ," " Absurd, troublesome, ridiculous signs, which would put a stop to all society, which would prevent a man from conversing witir a woman, either ia pablic or private ;..aadt -^^*'- •: U VIVIAN, must absolutely preclude one sex from ob^*^ taining any reftl knoAvledge of the cbarac^ ters and di*jX)8itioo8 of tlje other." " 1 admit all you say — 1 foel the truA' of it — I wish this was changed in society T it is a great inconvenience, a real eTil," sai4 Russell ; " b«t an intiid to tlieir well-being in society. Far from attempting to conceal, he gloried in his iniilts; for, he knew full well, that, as long us lie bad the voice of mnnhers with him, he coald hully, or laugh, or shame plain reatJOB' and rigid principle out of cantitc- . fiance. It was his grand art to represent good sense as stupidity, aud virtue as hypo- crisy. Hypocrisy was, iu his opinion, the only vice, which merited the hrand of ia- famy ; and from this he took sufficient Cure to prove, or at least to proclaim, hini- Bdffree. Even whilst lie ofiendcd agaiust the decencies of life, there seemed to ha something frank and graceful' in his niannei; oflhrowiug aside all disguise. There ap-. peared an air of superior liberality in hii avowing himself to be governed by that ab- solute selfishness, which otlier men strive t» conceal even from their own hearts. He dexterously led his acc[uaintance to infer, ..thaj; he would prove as much better tbnu-. 9© VlVlA?r. hie proft«6ik>aB, as other pei^le are oft^ fonnd to be worse than theirs. Where fatt wished to please, it was scarcely posBlble itti escape the fascination of his manner; not\ did be neglect any mode of coarting pepit^ larity ; he knew that a good table is necesHj sary to attract even men of wit ; and iMi) made it a point to have the very best cool^ UTid the very best miies. He paid his cook and his cook was the only j>ereoii he di( pay, in ready money. His wine merchant be paid iti words — an art in wliicli he wa^ a professed, and yet a successfid adept, arf hundreds of living witnesses were ready tril attert. Bot, thong^i Wharton could cajom he conld not attach his fellow creatm-es -^♦' lie had ft party, but no friend. With thi* distribution of tilings lie was pcrl'ectly satis^ fied ; for be considered men only as beiugsj wbo were to be worked to his purposes i and he declai-ed, that, provided he had powel( over their interests and their humunrs, ht| cared not what became of llieir bcarts. H was his policy to enlist yonng men af tiJ{ lents or fortnne under his banners; antlj consetjiieutly, Vivian was Hn object worth^dK of his attention. Such wa« tbe disorder ^ TIVIAK. 9\ Whsrtan's aftiin, tb*t nther reedy money or political power was necessaiy to his «s- istence. Our hero conW, at the same time, siipply his extrara^ance, and increase his coHse^ence. Wharton thotiglit that ha cooM borrow luouey from Vivian, ami thirt lie might COBimand his Tot« in parUament: Imt, to the accomplishment (rf these schemes, liiere were two ohstacles j Vivian was ftt- tar^ed to an amiable woman, and was pos- sessed of an estimal)le friend. Wharton had becotne acquainted with Russell at lord Gljstonbary's ; and, in mnny arguments, vbicli they had held on public nfikirs, had discovered, that RuBsell was not a man who ei"er preferred the expedient to the riglit, nor one, who coald be bnllied or laughed ont of bis principles. He saw, rImo, that Russell's iiiflnenee over Vivian was so J^eat, that it supped him with that strength of mind, in *^ich Vivian was natnrally deficient ; and, it our hero should marry such a woman a3 miss Sidney, Wharton foresaw, that he should have no chance of succeeding in his designs j therefore, his first objects were to detach Vivian from his frientl Russell, and from Selina. One morning, he called upon Vi- 93. xivtAtr. vlao with a part^ of bis triends, and fbun^ Lim writing. " Poetry !" cried Whartou, carelessly looking at what he had been writings " Poetry, 1 protest! — Aye, I know this poofv fellow's In love; and every man who is iiB' love is a poet, * with a woful ditty to fai^ mistress's eyelirow.' Fray, what colour may) miss Sidney's eyebrows be ? — she is really ai pretty girl — I think I reinemher seeing hoij at some races — Why does she never comi to town r — But of course she is not UHf hlaiue for that, but her fortune, I suppose — Marrying a girl without u tbrtune is a serious- thing in these expensive days ; hut you hav& iortiine enough for hoth yourself and your wife, so you may do as yon please. Well, L thank God I have no fortune ! — If I had been a yoinig man of fortune, 1 should have beCn: U»e most unhappy rascal npon Earth, for I; should never have married — I should have- always suspected, tbat every woman liked Bie, for my wealth — I should have had no. pleasure in the smiles of an angel — angels,, or their mothers, are so venal now adays,, and so fond of the pomps and vanities of. ^18 wicked worldl-^ M^ vrviAtJ. tj3 I hope," said Vivian, langhing, " you ion't include the whole sex iu yoor satire?" ' No — there are exceptions — andevery B&i) iias his angel of an exreptioo, as every iman has her star ; — it is well for weak imen when these stars of theirs don't Mad them astray ; and well for weak men, fffhen these angel exceptions, before niar- liage, don't turn out very ■women or devils iftenvards. But why do I say all this? — because I am a su'-picious scoundrel — 1 know, and can't hel|> it. if other fellows (rfniy standing, in this wicked world, would bnt speak the truth, however, they would to muke use of it continiiully. After Iwving, as he peiceived, succeeded in mak- ing Vivian ashamed' of his soonet to Selina, and' of appearing as a romantic lover, he doubted not, but, in time, be should niidce true love itself ridiculons ; and Wharton tbooght it was now the moment to hazard another stroke, and to commence his. attack ag^nst friendship. " Vivian, my good fellow ! why do you -■ let youTBelf be ruled by that modern stoicy' ^0 VIVIAN. in the form of lord Liclhnrst's Tutor? \ never b»\v one of these eold moralists, whi were real, warm-heiirted, good friends, i have a notion 1 see more of Rnsseti's playia" the house, M'here he has got, than he thinks. I .do ; and I can fonn a shrewd gness wh^ he was so zealous in warning you of the re^i port about lady Sunih Lidhurst — he had his own snug reasons for wanting you away — Ohj tnist me for scenting out self interestj^ through a}I the dotihlings and windings ofl your cnoning moralist!" Reddening with indignation at this at"-' tack upon his friend, Vivian wannly repliectyl "That Mr. Wharton onght to restrain hifp wit, where the feelings of friendship, and I the character of a man of honour, were con-* cemed ; that he did not, in the least, corar-jj preheud his insinuations with rcgaixl to Rus-H sell ; hut that, for his own part, he had such 4 firm reliance upon his -friend's attachment* and integrity, that lie was, at any time,>4 ready to pledge his own honour for Kus-« sell's, and to answer ftir it with his life." •■\ "Spare your heroics, my dear Vivian !"-< cried Wharton, laughing; "for we ai-e not i ip the days of Pylades and Orestes j. — :j;e.I^ VIVIAN. $y mpoa my soul, instead of being as angry vrith yoa> as yoa are with me, at this instant, I like yoa a thousand times the better for your enthusiastic credulity. For my part, I have, ever since I lived in the world, and put away childish things, regretted that charming instinct of credulity, which •expe- rience so fatally counteracts. — 1 envy you, my dear boy! — As to the rest, you know RusselFs merits better than I do — Fll take^ Jjim henceforward upon trust from you." Thus Wharton, finding that he was upon dangerous ground, made a time! y retreat ". the playful manner and open countenance with which he now spoke, and the quick transi- tion that lie made to other subjects of con- versation, prevented Vivian from suspect- ing, that any settled design had been formed to detach him from Russell. From this time forward, Wharton forbore raillery ori iove and friendship ; and, far from seeming desirous of interfering in Vivian's private ^concerns, appeared quite absorbed in poli- tics. Avowing, as he did, that he wa^ guided solely by his interest in public life, he laughed at Vivian for professing more generous principles^ VOL. v. F 9A VIVIAN. " 1 know," cried Wharton, " how top make ase of a fine word, and to round a fine sentence, as well as tlie best of you ; bat wliat a sinipleton must he be, who Is cheated by his own sophistry ! — An artist, an entbn- | siastic artist, who is generally half a mad- man, might fall in love with the statue of his own making ; but you never heard of a coiner, did you, who was cheated by his own bad shilling ? Patriotism and loyalty are counterteit coin ; I can't be taken in by them at my time of day" Vivian could not forbear to smile at the drollery and wit with which this jirofligate defended his want of integrity, yet he some- times seriously and warmly asserted his uwQ principles. Upon these occasions, Wharton either overpowered him by a fine flow of words, or else hstened with the most flat- tering air of admiration, and silenced him by compliments to his eloquence. Vivian thought, that he Avas quite secure of his own- firmness ; but the contagion of had exwiiple sometimes affects the mind imper- ceptibly, as certain noxituis atmospheres stfial.upon the senses, and excite the most agreeable sensations, while they secretly de- VIVIAN. 99 stroy the principles of health and lifo. A day was fixed, when a question of import- ance was to come on in the hoosc of com- mons. Wharton was extremely anxious to have Vivian's vote, Vivian, according to the parliamentary phrase, fmd not made up his mind on the subject. A heaj) of pamph- lets on the question lay iincut upon his table. Every morning lie resolved to read them, that be might form his judgment, and vote according to his unbiassed opinion. But every morning he was interrupted by some of the fashionable idlers, whom his lacility of temper had indulged in the habit of haunting him daily. " Oh, Vivian! we are going to such and siicb a place, and yon must come with us !" was a mode of per- snasion which he could not resist. " If I don't do as they do," tbongbt hej " I shall be quite unfashionable. Rnssell may say what he pleases ; but it is necessary to yield to one's companions in trifles. * Whoever would be plea^'d and please. Must do what others do tvith e:ise.' " This couplet, which had been rejieated to him by Wharton, recurred to him coutinn^ F3 r lOO VIVIAN. ally; and thus Wharton, by slight meatis in H'liich he seemed to have no interest or design, ])rcpared V'ivian for his purposes, by working gradually on the easinees of bis disposition : he always argued, that it conld not possibly signify what he did with an. hour or two of his day, till at last \'ivian found, that he had no hours of his own, that his whole time was at the disposal of otlicrs4 and now, that he really wanted leisure to consider an important question, when his credit, as a member of the senate, and as a man just entering political life, depended on this decision, he literally conld not command time to read over the neces- sary documents. The mornings were frit- tered or lounged away in the most unprofit- able and uninteresting manner; some foolish engagement, some triBing party of pleasure, every day snatched him from hunself ; his companions kept jjossession of him, and there was no possibility, of slmtting himself np in his own apartment to meditate: so the appointed day arrived before Vivian's opinion was formed ; and, from mere want of time to decide for himself, he voted as Wharton desired. Another and anothei^ TIVI'AN. tot yelitical question came on ; the same canses •perated^ and the same consequences en- saed. Wharton mans^d with great ad- dress, so as to prevent him from feeling that he gave up his free will ; and Vivian did not perceive, thdt every day added a fresh ImL to that most minute, but strongest of ^^\ chains^ the chain of habit *. Before Vivijo;; was aware of it, whilst he thought that be was perfectly independent of all parties^ public opinion had enrolled him amongst Wharton's partisans. Of this Russ^ell was the first to give him warning* Russell hefnd ©fit amongst the political leaders, who npiet at lord Glistonbury's dinners ; and, knowing tile danger there is of a young man's com- mit ting himself on certain points, he, wi^. the eagerness of a true friend, wrote imme.- diately to put Vivian upon his guard — , " Mv dear Vivian ! ^' I am just going into the country with " lord Lidhurst, and, perhaps, may not re- " turn for some time. I cannot leave vou " without putting you on your guard, once " more, against Mr. Wharton. I under'- * Dr, Johnsoo. r« ' stand, that you are thought to be one of ' his party> and that he eoiinteiiances tha report. Take care, that you are notbouud ' hand and foot, before you know where I ■ you are. " Your sincere friend, " H. Russell.' ;;;J^ith the natnral frankness of his dispo- ;~^J^on, Vivian immediately spoke to Whar- IloDupou the subject. '--n Wliat! people say that you are one ilf my party, do they i* " said Wharton : " I ■cever heard this before, but I am heartily ifiiad'to hear it. Yon are in for it now, Vi- vicin : you are one of ns ; and, with us, yoii tijnst atand or fall." ■ ,,," Excuse me, there !" cried Vivian ; "I am not of any party ; and am determined t» .Jterp myself perfectly independent." " Do you remember the honest ()nake!'s ' ■answer to the man of no party ?" sai(l' | W barton. ' " No." ' " I think it was about the year 40, when party disputes about whig and tory ran ■ high ; but no matter what year, it will do for any time. — A geiitletuaa of uudeviating in- 'IV IAN. 103 tegrJty, an iiidepenilent man, just surh a moQas Mr. Vivian, ofteied himsclt'candidate for a town in the east, west, uorth, or south ofEngland, no matter where — it will do for any place; and the first person, whose TOte he solicited, was a quakcr, who asked him, whether he was a whig or tory. 'Neither. — I am an independent, moderate man; and, when the niemhers of admint«- tration are right, I will vote with thcni — when wrong, against them.' — ' And he tlie-ie reaily thy principles?' tpioth the (juakea'; ' then a vote of mine tliou shalt never have. Thou seest my door, it leadeth into the itreet, the right hand side of which is for the tory, the left for the whigs ; and, for a cold blooded, moderate man, like thee, there ia tile kennel, and into it then wilt be jostled, for thon heest not decided enough for any other situation.' " " Bnt why should the moderate man he condemned to the kennel ? " said Vivian. ** Was there no middle to your quaker's road? — A stout man cannot be easily jostled into the kennel ." "Pshaw! pshaw!" said Wharton, "jest- ■ lag out of the question, a naan is nothing . 104 I in public life, or worse than nptbingi a |, trimmer, unless he muns a party, and on- l less lie abides ljy it, too." I "^ As long aa the party ia in the right, I I presume you inean/' said Vivian. " Right or wrongl" cried Wharton, " a man must abide by bis party. No power, and no popularity, trust me, without it! — - Better stride on the greasy heads of the nioh} than be trampled under their dirtier feet, An armed neutrality may he a good thing ; hnt an unarmed nentrality is 6t only for fools. Betides, in Russell's giand etyle, I can bring down the ancients upoii yon, and tell you, that, when the common- wealth is in danger, he cannot be a good man, who sides with neither party ." " If it he so necessary to join a party, and if, after once joining it, 1 must abide by it, right or wrong, for life," said Vivian^ *' it behoves me to consider well before I commit myself. And, before 1 ^o into the ranks, I must see good reason to confide^ not only in the abilities, hut in the inte- grity and pnblic \irtue of my leader." " Public virtue! — sounds fresh from coK lege," said Wharton; "I would as ei h^ and sootier, hear a schoolboy read his themes ■ asliear a man begin to prose about public rirtne — especially a member of parliament. Keep that phrase, my dear Vivian, till some of the treasury bench come to court you ; then look superb, like a French tragic actor, swelling out your chest, and, throwing the head over tlie left slioiilder, thus, ex- claim — Public virtue forbid ! — Practise ! practise!' — For if you do it well, it may he worth a loud huzza to you yet ; or, better still, a snug place or pension, — But stay till jon're asked, stay till you're asked — that's' the etiquette — never, till then, let me hear public virtue come out of your lips — else yon'll raise suspicion of your virtue, and lower your price. — What would yon think of ii pretty actress, wlio began to talk to ytm of her reputation before yovj put it in ■Wiy danger? Oh, VivianI my honest fel- low! unless you would make me think you Mo better than thousands, that have gone before yon, never let me hear from your lips again, till the proper thne, the hj-pocri- tical state phrase, public virtue," " I had always, till now, understood, that ii.was possible to be a patriot without being: r3 a06 VIVIAN. a hypocrite," replied Vivian : " I always na- derstood, that Mr. Wharton was a patriot." ■■' A very fair sarcasm on me," said Whar- ton, laaghiDg, — " Bnt you know I'm a sad dog, never set inyself nj) for a pattern man. Come! — Let's home to dinner, and a trace with politics and niondity. — I 6nd, Vivian, you're a sturdy fellow, and must 'have your own way; no bending, no lead^ ing yon, I see — Well ! it is a good thing to have so much strength of mind — I envy you ." It nmst he recorded, to the credit df onr hero, that, in defiance of Wharton's raillery, he talked, and — Oil! still mor^ wonderfal! — thought of public virtue, doi:^ ing nearly half of his first session in parlia- ment. But, alas! whilst his political prin-' cipks thus withstood the force of ridicul*;, -temptation soon presented itself to ViviaJt in a new shape, and in a form so seducing', as to draw his attention totally away fron^ politics, and to pnt his private, if not his public honour in the most imminent peril. 107 CHAPTER IV. One morning, as Vivian was walking Wth Mr. Wbarton up Bond Street^ tbey were met by a party of fashionable loungers, Mieof whom asked, whether Mrs. Wharton was jQot cocne to town yet. "Mrs. Wharton!"— said Vivian, with an air of surprise. ^^ Yes, she came to town this moi-ning,'* said Wharton carelessly, then laughing, as he turned to look at Vivian, — ^' Vivian, my good fellow ! what smites you with such surprise? — Did not you know I wa& mar- ried?" " I suppose I must have heard it; but I really forgot it," said Vivian. " There you had the advantage of me," said Wharton, still laughing. *^ But if you never heard of Mrs. Wharton before, keep your own secret; for I can tell you she would never forgive you, though I might. — Pat a good face on the matter, at any rate; and swear you've heard so much of her;, that you were dying to, see her. Some ofj these geutlemen, who bare nothing else to do, will introduce you whenever yi please," " And cannot 1," said Vivian, " have the honour of yonr introduction ?" ' " Mine! theworst you could possibly havei || — The honour, as you are pleased to calM it, would be no favonr, I assure you — ThO' honour! honour of a husband's introduce- tion! — What a novtcc yon are, or wouW make me believe you to ije I — But, seriously^ i I am engaged to day, at Glistonbury's — soj good morning to you," » Accustomed to hear Wh'artoB talk, in tl^ freest manner, of women and marriage itK general, and scarcely having beard hinv mention his own wife; Vivian had, as hei-l Bftid, al)sohitely forgotten, that WhartouJ was a married man. When he was intro-J daced to Mrs, Wharton, he was still more s surprised at her husband's indifference; for f he bebeld a lady in all the radiance o£ J beauty, and all the elegance of fashion: he li ■was so much dazzled by her charms, that . he had not immediately power or inclir* VIVTAN. 109- nation to examine what her understanding' or disposition mij^ht be; and he conid only repeat to himself^ — " How is it possible, that Wharton can be indifferent to such a beau- tifid creature!" locapable of feeling any of what h&' called the romance of love, the passion, of ' Coarse, had always been, with Mr. Wliartony of a Tery transient nature. Tired of his- wife's person, he showed his indifference withont scniple or ceremony. Notorious and glorying in his gallantries, he was often heard to declare, that no price was too high to be paid for beauty, except a man's U- berty; but that was a sacrifice, which he- Wonld never Tnake to any woman, especially to a wife. Marriage vows and custom- ^onse oaths he classed in the same order of technical forms — no ways binding on the con- science of any but fools and dnpes. Whilst the husband went on in this manner, the wife satisfied herself by indulgence in ber strongest" passions — the passion for dress and public admiration. Childishly eager to set the' feshion in trifles, she spent unconscionable' nims on her pretty person; and devoted all,' ier days, or rather all her nights, to publicr 1 IM 1 amusements. So insatiable and restless the paasicm for adBiiratiou, diat she w never happy for half an hour together, afcy any place of public amusement, unless she'! fixed the gaze of numbers. The first winter after her marriage she enjoyed the preroga- ' tives of a fashionable beauty ; but the rei^u of fashion is more tr;msient even ttian thft bloom of beauty. Mrs. Wharton's beauty^ ' soon grew familiar, and faded in the publMr! eye; some newer face was this season thBii mode. Mrs. Wharton appeared twice at' the opera in the most elegant and becoin-'i ing dresses; but no one followed her leadj ' Mortified and utterly dejected, she felt,j with the keenest angnish, the first symp-i tome of the decline of public admiratiou.' It was just at this period, when she was mi- serably in want of the consolations of flattery, that Vivian's acquaintance with her com- menced. Gratified by the sort of delighted surprise, which she saw in his conntenaace. the first moment he beheld her, seeing that he was an agreeable nmn, and knowing that he - was a man of fortune and family, she took: pains to please him by all the common arte of coqnetry. But his yanity was proof- VIVIAN, III against these: Ibe weakness of tlie lady's on^rstanding and the frivolity of her cbH" racter were, for some weeks, snfticient antt- ioted against all the power of her personal cliaruis; so much so. that, at tliis period, he often compared, or rather contrasted, Mrs. Wharton and Selina, and hle^eed his happy . fate. He wfotc to hii friend Russell soon I after he was introduced to this celebrated Ijeauty, and drew a strong and jnst parallel | between the characters of these two ladies: he concluded with saying — I " Notwithstanding your well founded I ilread of the volatility of my character, yoa will not, I hope, my dear Russell, do ine ^ the injustice to apprehend, that 1 am in any danger from the charms ol'Mrs. Wharton." Vivian wrote with perfect sincerity; he believed it to be impossible that he could ever be("omc attached to sucji a woman as Mrs. Wharton, even if she had not beea married, and the wife of his friend. So, in ' all the aecurlty of conscious contempt, he ' went every day to wait upon her, or, rather, ', to meet agreeable company at her hout^e: — I U house, in which all that was fashionable | cioU dissipated assembled ; where beauty, and ' b TTS- vivtan: talents, and rank, met and mingled; and' where political or other arrangements pre- Tented the host and hostess from scrupu- lously excluding some, whose characters ■were not tree from suspicion. Lady Mary Viriau never went to Mrs. Wharton's ; but ahe acknowledged, that she knew many ladies of unblemished reputations, who' ^thought it no impropriety to visit there; and Mrs. Wharton's own character she knew was hitherto iinini]>ea<'hed. " She is, indeed, a woman of a cold, selfish temper," eaid Indv Mary, "not likely to he led into danger by the tender passion, or by any of the delusions of the imagination." Vivian agreed with his mother in this* opinion, and went on paying his devoirs to ' her every day. It was the fashion of the- ' times, and peculiarly the mode of this house, . for the gentlemen to jjay cxchisive attention" to matrons. Few of the yeung men -seemed ■ to think it worth while to speak to an un- married woman, in any company ; and the fewwho might be inclined to it, were, as they declared, deterred 1^ the danger ; for either the young ladies themselves, or theif - mothers^ immediately formed exj>cctatioaS'i VIVIAN. lis rand schemes of drawiug thein into matri- uiotiy — the grand object of the Indies" wishes and of the gentlemen's fears. The niea suid they could not speak to an unmarried wouian, or even dance with her more than twice, without it's heing reported, that they were going to be married; and then the Jriends and relatives of the young ladies pretended to think them injured and ill- treated, if these reports were nut realised. Our hero bad some slight experience of the tmth of these complaints in his own ease with the lady Sarab Lidburst: he willingly took the rest upon trust — believed all the exaggerations of his companions — and be- gan to think it prudent and necessary to follow their example, and confine his atten- tions to married women. Many irreaisti- bie reasons eonciuxed to make Mis. Whar- ton the moat convenient and proper persouj to whom he could pay tliis sort of homage ; besides, she seemed to fall to his share by lot and necessity; for, at Wharton's house, every other lady and every other gentle- Dian being engaged in gallantry, play, or politics, Mrs, Wharton must have been utterly neglected, if Vivian had not paid J HU VIVIAN. lier Bonie attention. iCoinmoa politen^a* absolutely requiced it; the attention be*i came a matter of course, and was habitually expected. Still, he liad not the slightest design of going beyond the line of modem politeness; but, in certain circnmstanceii^ people go wrong a great way before thc^ are aware, that they have gone a single stepL it was presently repeated to Mr. Vivian, by oome of Mrs, Wharton's confidantes, whispers, and cnder the solenm promise secresy, that he certainly was a prodigio favourite of hers ; he laughed, and affect to disbelieve the insinuation: it made i^ impression, however ; and he "was eecreUy flattered by the idea of being a prodigii favourite with such a beautil'nl young ture. In some moments, be saw her witl eyes of compassion, pitying her for the n«*; gleet with which she was treated by he* husband: he began to attribute much of her apparent frivolity, and many of her faults, more to the want of a guide and k friend, than to deficiency of understandings ; or defects of character. Mrs. Wharta»! had just sufficient sense to be cmmiug — thip. implies but a very small portion: she peiv ecived the advanta^ -n-hich she guiiied bjr thus working npon Vivian's TanHy, anassion. She continued her o[)eriitions, without being violently inte- reeted in their success ; for she had, at 6rst, •nly !i general wish to attract his attention, kcanse he was a fashioiiable yonng man. One morninj:, when he called upon Whar- D, to accompany him to tlie honse of com- mons, he found Mrs. Wharton in tears ; ber (band walking up and down tite room, in indent ill hnmonr. He stopped speaking rben Vivian entered ; and Mrs. Wharton «ldeavoured, or seemed to endeavour, to conceal her emotion. She began to play her hnrp; and Wharton, addressing hini- *elf to Vivian, talked of the politics of the ■fcy. There was some incoherence in the wnvereation ; for Vivian's attention was &tnvcted by the air that Mrs. Wharton was jSaying, ot which he was passionately fond, " There's no possibility of doing any ■fting, while there is such a cursed noise in ■flie room!" cried Wharton. — "Here I have "flie heads of this hill to draw up — I cannot Endure to have music wherever I go ." He snatched up his papers, and retired J 1T6 VIVIAN, to an adjoining apartment, begging thav Vivian wonld wait one quarter of an honr for liini. — Mrs. Wharton's tears flowed afresh, and she looked beautiful in tears. " You see — you see, Mr. Vivian — and I am ashamed you should see — how 1 am treated. — I am, indeed, the most unfortu- nate creature upon the face of the Eartli, and nobody in this world has-tbe least com- passion for me ! " Vivian's countenance contradicted tins last assertion most positively. — Mrs. Wliaj- ton understood this ; and lier attitude of despondency was the most graceful imar ginable. " My dear Mrs. Wharton" — (it was the first time our liero had ever called her, " his dear Mrs. Wharton," but it was only a Pla- tonic dear) — " You take trifles ranch too se- riously — Wharton was hurried by business — A moment's impatience most be for- given," " A moment ! " replied Mrs. Wharton, casting up to Heaven her lieautiful eyes — "Oh I Mr, Vivian, bow little do yon know ■ him ! — 1 am the most miserable creat tliiit ever existed ; but there is not VIVIAN. 117 ipon Earth to whom 1 would say so except vonrself." Vivian couW not help feeling some grati- tude fnr this distinction ; and, aa he leaned Wer her harp, with an air of unusual inte- t, he said he hoped, that he should ever iVB himself worthy oi her esteem and confidence. At this instant, Wharton interrupted the mversation, by passing hastily through the »m. — "Come, Vivian," said he j "we all he very late at the house." " We shall see you again, of course, at inner," said Mrs, Wliarton to Vivian, in a low voice. Our hero replied, hy an assenting Tjow, — Five minutes afterwards, he re- pented that he had accepted the invitation ; because he foresaw that she would resume a conversation, which was at once interesting wid embarrassiug. He felt that it %vas not riglit to hecome the dejmsitory of this lady's complaints against her husband ; yet lie had been moved by her tears, and the idea, that was the only man hi f/ie world to whom le would open her heart, upon such a deli- cate subject, interested him irresistibly in M8 VIVIAN, lier favour. He returowl in the evening, and was flattered by obsemng, that, ainongbt the crowd of company by wliich ahe was surrounded, he was instaiitiy distinguislied. He was perfectly persuaded of the iunoceuce of her intentions ; and, as he was attached, to another woman, he fancied that he coakl become the friend of the beautiful Mrs, Whaiton without danger. The first tinie he had an opportunity of sj>eakiug to lier in private he expressed this idea in the man- ner that he thought the most deHcalelv flat- tering to her self-complacency. Mrs. Whar- ton seemed to be perfectly satisfied with this conduct, and declared, that, unless she had been certain, that he was) not ii man of gal- lantry, she should never have placed any confidence in his friendship. " I consider yon," said she, " quite as a married man ; — by the bye, when arc vou to be married, and what sort of a person h Diiss Sidney ? — 1 am told she is excessivelv handsome, and amiable, and senftible. — What a happy creature slie is 1 — just going to tie united to the man she loves Here the lady gave a profound sigh, and i VIVIAN. 119 Tiriiui had an opportonity of obseiring, ^at slie had the longest dark eyelashes, tJiat he had ever seen. I was married," contiuued she, "before 1 knew what I was a))oat. Yon kuow Mr. Wharton can be so charming, when he ]rfeases — and then he was so much in love "With me, and swore he wonld shoot himself, rf I would not have him — and all that sort flf thing. 1 protest I was terrified ; and 1 was quite a child, you know. I had been Dnt hot six weeks, and 1 thonght I was in lore with him. That was because I did lot know what love w;is — then ; — besides, be hurried and teased me to such a degree! After all, I'm convinced I married him more out of compassion than any thing else; and now you see how be treats me ! — most ,barbarou!sly and tyrannically! — But Iwould ,notgive the least hint of this to any man living but yourself. I conjure yon to keep ^ffly secret — and — pit\' me \ — that is all I iaki — pity me sometimes, when your thoughts Ok not absorbed in a happier manner." Vivian's generosity was piqued : he could Bot be so sellisb, as to be engrossed exclu- sively by his own felicity. He thought, that (leliciiry should ioduce liim to forbear expta tratiDg n])on Selina's virtues and acconuj ])lislunents, or upou his passion. He caiH ried this delicay so far, that, somettHies fon a fortnight, or three weeks, he never men- tioned her name. He could not hut ob- serre, that Mrs. Wharton did not like the less for this species of sacrifice. In her- society, he often met ivith people, who, spoke of miss Sidney as a prude ; or, morfr. mortifying still, as a person whom nobody; knew. As his attachment and approach-^ ing marriage were to be ke]>t secret, h©- could not betray himself by entering ai,; warmly into her defence as lie might hav( "n'isht^d : but his varying colour showedi Mr?. Wharton, on these occasions, what hi &it j and she had always sufficient ciinning; to. repress dislike to her rival, and to rais«. herself in onr hero's opinion by a generonft^ silence. It may be oljsen'ed, tliat Mrs. Wharton managed her attack upon Vivian with more art, than could be expected from so silly a woman; but we must consider, that all her faculties were concentrated oa one object ; so that she seemed to have au instinct for coquetry. The most silly ani- VIVIAN. 121 liials in the creation, from the insect tribe tipwards, show, on' some occasions, where their interests are immediately concerned, a degree of sagacity and ingenuity, which, compared with their usual imbecility, ap- pears absolutely wonderfdl. The opinion, which Vivian had early formed of the weak- ness of this lady's understanding, prevented him from being on his guard against her artifices : he could not conceive it possible, that he should be duped by a person so ob- riotasly his inferior. With a woman of ta- lents and knowledge, he might have been suspicious ; but there was nothing in Mrs, Wharton to alarm his pride, or to awaken his fears : he fancied, that he could extricate himself in a moment, and with the slightest eflfort, from any snares which she could con- trive; and, under this persuasion, he ne- glected to make even that slight effort, and thus continued, from hour to hour, in vo* luntary captivity. Insensibly, Vivian became more interested for Mrs. Wharton ; and, at the same time, submitted with increased facility to the in- fluence of her husband. It was necessaiy, that he should have some excuse to the VOL, V. G r 123- VIVIAN. ivorld, iind yet more to bis own conscience, fur being so constantly at Wharton's. Tbe (ileasure be took in Wharton's conversatioi^ was still a sort of invohmtarj' excuse t^ himself for this intimacy with tbe lady, " Wharton's wit, more than Mrs. Whar- ton's beauty," thongbt he, " is the attract tion that draws me here — I am full as readfj to be of bis parties, as of hers ; and this is the best proof, that all is as it should be." Wharton's parties were not always such as Vivian would have chosen ; but he was pressed on, withont power of resistance. Foi( instance, one night Wharton was going with lord Pontipool and J self fashionable by keeping a faro-bank, tt " Vivian, you'll come along with lis?" said Wliavton. " Coine, we must ha\'e yon unless you are more happily eiHji gaged." 1 His eye glanced with a mixture of codJ tempt and jealousy upon bis wife — MraJ Wharton's alarmed and imploring counte4 nance, at the same moment, seemed to say — " For Hea\en's sake go with him, or I am undone." In such circumstances, It was J impossible for Vivian to say, no : lie fol- lowed iramediatelj", acting, as he thought, from a principle of honour and generosity. Whiirton was not a man to give ni> the ad- vantage, which he had gained. Every day he showed more capricious jealonsy of his ffife, though he, at the same time, expressed the most entire confidence in the hononr of his friend. Vivian !tion of the danger, lady Mary was too vehement in her terrour. With the warmest maternal afl^- tion for her son, and the best principles- possible, she had not the art of managing his mind, or indeed her own. Her anxiety about him had, from his childhood, beeof too great ; his education had been a subject of feverish solicitude, which had increased * as he grew up, and had shown itself in a manner particularly irksome to him when he entered into the world. This operated against her most ardent wishes : it decreased instead of securing his confidence and aiFec- tion; for it was ridiculous in the eyes of most of the yonng men who were his com- VIVIAN. 125 panions, and he had not strength of mind to withstand their millery. He grew asiiamed of Ijcing kept in awe hi/ Ins mamma ; and he thought it inciimhent Ti]>on him to prove, that he was not nnder J'emale govern- ment. From false bhium.', he ofttn repressed even the tenderness he felt for his mother, and forhore to pay her those little attentions, to which she had Ijeen habituated. Lady- Mary's quick feelings were immediately shown in the most iinpmdent manner, in all the hitter eloquence of reproach : she would have ohtained more gratitude from tier son, if she had exacted less. Ilje felt that he was to blame ; hut knew, that lie WiLB not the monster of ingratitude, which, her imagination and anger sometimes painted. To avoid discussions, which were extremely painful, he had gradually learned, of late, to slum her sotiety. By this rcci- yrocatton of enours. the mother and sou lost the advantage of the connexion by ivhicJt - nature and habit had imited them. Per- haps, the danger of Vivian's acqiiaiutance with the Whaitons might have been easily prevented in the beginning, if he had hud \ei6 reserve witlj his mother, or she more r 126 VIVIAN, indulgence for him. And now, when tTiings" were come to such a point, that lady Mary thought it her duty to speak, she spoke with iHD much warmth and indignation, that there was little chance of her counsels fee- ing of use. "But,my dear madam, it is only a I'l atonic attachment," argnedVivian, when his mother represented to hini, that the world talked loudly of his intimacy with Mrs. Wharton. '■ A Platonic attachment! — Fashionable, i-'iingeroTis sophistry!" said lady Mary. " Why so, ma'am?" said her son warmly; " and why should we mind what the world lay i" — The world is so fond of scandal, that a iii:m and woumn cannot have any degre^ of friendship for one another, without a hue- iintl cry heing immediately raised — and aW' the prudes and ctMjuets join at once in be^ lieYing, or pretending to believe, that thertf' must be something wrong. No wonder" ^iich a pretty woman as Mrs. Wharton can-- not escape envVj and, of course, censure ; ■ but her conduct can defy the utmost malice of her enemies." •' I hope soj" said lady Mary ; *' and, at all events, I am not-one of them. 1 koo\r f ■ — 1 VlVIAiN. 1^7 and care very little :kbout Mrs. Whiirtoii, nhom I have aiways been luciislouied to consider as a frivoluiH, silly ivoiniin ; hiit ' what I wish to sav, ihovigh I fear I have lost your con6deiice, and that my advice irill not ." " Frivolous 1 silly!'" intermpted Vivian; " believe roc, my dear mother, yon and hidf the world are, and have been, under a gieat mistake about her understanding and chn- Tacter." " Her forming a Platonic frleDcIslnp with a young man is no great proof of her sensii Or of her virtue," said lady Mary. "The danger of Platonic attachments, I thought, bad been sufliciiintly understood. Pray, my dear Charles, never let me hear more irom yon of Platonics with married wo- men." " I won't use the expression, ma'am, if you have any objection to it," said Vivian ; " but, mother, you wish me to live in the most fashionable company, and ret yoa desire me not to live as they live, and talk as they talk; now, that is next to impos- sible. Pardon niel but I should not have tliought," added he, laughing, " that you. 1^ I ;ty Lmrani [[ornia lay lue this book, 1 as poHible, but due. 41^ VIVIAN. wlio like most things that are fasbifmi would ohji'ct to Plaiontcs." . ■ " Object to them! — I despise, detesty abhpr them ! Platonics have been the ruitt pf mwe women, the destruction of the peacts of more familie?, tlian open profligacy ever could have accomplished. Many a married woman, who would have started with horrour at the idea of beginning an intrigue, "hast been drawn in to admit of a Plittonic atr tachment. And many a man, who would a& soon have thought of cojnmitting mmder, as of seducing bis friend's wife, has allowed himself to commence a Platonic attachments and how tbeee end, all the world knows." , Stnick by these wordsj Vivian suddenly quitted liis air of raillery, and became seri- ous. Had his mother stopped there, and^ left tbe rest to his good sense and awakened perception of danger, all wopld have been well ; but she was ever prone to say too mnch; and, iu her ardour to prove herself to be in the right, forgot that people ar« apt to be sliocked, by having it pointed out, that they are utterly in tbe wrong. *' Indeed, the very word Platouies," pur- sued she, " i$ coneidered by those, who hwraj L' VIVIAN. 129 eeen any thing of life^ as the mere watch* word of knaves or dupes ; of those who de* ceive, or of those who wish ^ to be deceived •'* ^^ Be assured, ma*am,** said Vivian, *^ that Mrs. Wharton is not oi^ of those, who wish either to deceive or to be deceived ; and, as to myself, I hope I am as far from any danger of being a dupe as of being a knave. My connexion with Mrs. Wharton is per^ fectly innocent ; it is justified by the exam- ple of hmidreds and thousands every day, in the fashionable world, and 1 should do her and myself great injustice, if I broke off our intimacy suddenly, as if I acknowledged that it was improper," *^ And what can be more improper } since you force me to speak plainly," cried lady Mary, " What can be more improper, than such an intimacy, especially in your circum^ stances ? " *^ My circumstances \ What circum^ stances, ma'am ? "^ *^ Have you forgotten miss Sidney ?" ^ ** By no means, ma*am,"* said Vivian^ colouring deeply ; " Mrs. Wharton is well apprised^ and was, from the first moment o£ our friendship, clearly informed, of my ^ engagements with miss Sidney." " And how do they agree with your at- tachment to Mrs. Witiuton ? " " Perfectly well, tnu'ani — Mr-i. Wharton understands all tliat porfcctly well, ma'am." " And miss Sidney ! da yon think she will understand it? — and is it not extraor- dinary, thiit I shouUl think more of her fcel- ini;s than you do}" At these i|ucstioi)s, Vivian hecame s<^ angry, that lie was incapable of listening further to reason, or to the best advice, even irom a mother, for whom he had the highest respect. Tlie motlier and sot parted with feelings of mutual dissatis- fuetioR. Vi\ianj frem that sjiirit of oppositrai Ktxiftcn seen in weak characters, went ir* niediately from his mother's lecture to party at Mrs, Whartou s. Lady Mary, ia the mean time, sat down to write to miss Sidney. Whatever reluctance she had ori- ginally felt to her son's marriage with this young lady, it mnst be repeatedj to her lady- ship's credit, thatSelina's honourable and dis^ VIVIAN. 131 interested condact bad won her entire appro- bation. She wrote, therefore, id the strong- est terms, to press the immediate conclasiun of that match, which she now considored aa tlie only chance of securing her son's morals and happiness. Her letter cundaded witli these words ; — " I shall expeet you in town directly. " Do not, my dear, let any idle scruples "prevent you irum coming to my Imjuso. " Consider that my happiness, your own, *' and my sou's, depend upon your com- " pliance. I am persuaded, that the mo- " inent he sees you, the moment you exert " your power over him, he will he himself "again. But, believe me, I know tho " young men of the present day better than "you do; tiicir constancy is not proof " against absence. IF he lose the habit of " seeing aud conversing with yun, I cannot "answer lor the rest. — Adieu 1 I iim BO " much harrassed by iny own thuught!i, and " by the repoils I hear, that I scarcely know " what I write. Pray come immediately, i*' my dear Selina, that I may talk to you of f many subjects, on which I don't like to '" trust myself to write. My feelings ha^* ^ r " b©co too long pepressod. — I mast unbor- " den my heart to you. — I'ou only can ** console and assist me ; and, independ- * ently of all other considerations, yon owe *' to ray friendship for you, Selina, not to ** refuse this first request! ever made you. — - *' Farewel ! I shall exjwct to see you a» '* BOOQ as possihle. ** St. James's " Yours, Slc. " Street.^' " Mary Vivian." In this letter, lady Mary Vi^an had not explained the nature of her son's danger, or of her fears for lum. Motives of delicacy liad prevented her from explicitly telling miss Sidney her suspicions, that Vivian was attached to a married woman. " Selina,* said her ladysJiip to herself, " must, proba- ■ biy, have heard the report from Mr.G— — y a gentleman who is so often at her mother's ; therefore, there can be no necessity for my'-I saying any more tlian I have done. She will understand my hints. ' Unfortunately, however, miss Sidney dUl not comprehend, or in the least suspect, the i lUost material part of the truth j she nnder- j^od simply, from lady Mary's letter, that VIVIAN. 133 ^'iv'iaa's ftfibctioes wavered, and ftbe inui- ^ined, that lie was, perhaps, en the point of loakiiig inatriniouial proposals for somi:' t'asliionable beile, probuI)Iy for one of tbe^ lady Lidliursts; but the idea of bis l>ecDiu- iog attached to a married n'oiiian never «Btered her tlioughts. Indeed, Mrs. Sidney liaii, with mistaken kindness, naed every possible precaution to prevent any report or liint of this kind from reaching Setiua. Mr. G bad mentioned it to Mrs. Sidney ( but, fi-om the dread of g:iving; ber daughter pain, she had conjured him never to give Selina the least hint of what she was con- vinced would ttirn out to be a false reports Selina, on ber jiart, teiuing to he iufin^iced *>y her mother's indulgent counsels, resolved *o answer lady Mary's letter, without con- •tiiting her, and without considering any .yjitig, hut what ought to l»e her deci- sion. Maoy motives conspired to incline •^Hiia to accept of the invitation. The cer- tainty, that lady Mary would be highly pSended by a refusal ; the hint, that her in- fluence over Vivian would ojwrate imme- diately, and in all it's foi-ce, if he wei'« t« »ee ISi VIVIAN. and converse witli her, and tliat, on thv contrary, absence miglit extinguish his pas^ sion for ever ; cnrlosity to learn jireci&ely the- nature of the reports, which his mother had heard to his disadvantage; but, above all, a' fond wish to be nearer to the man she loved,. and to have daily opportunities of seeing him, prompted Selina to comply with lady Mary's request. On the contrary, good' senee and delicacy represented, that she had released Vivian from all promises, all en«- gagements ; that, at parting, slit- had pro- fessed to leave him perfectly at liberty : that it ivonld, therefore, be as indelicate as iin-' prudent, to make such an attempt to reclaim his inconstant heart. She had told him, that she desired to have proof of the steadi-' ness, both of his character and of his attach-' ment, before she could consent to marry him. From this decision she could not^ ahe would not recede. She had the forti- tude to persist in this resolution. She wrote to lady Mary Vivian in the kindest, hut, at the same time, in the most decided terms, declining the tempting invitation. "When she had heroically signed, sealed, and sent the letter, she showed her mother lady Mary's letter, and told her hon-, and ivliy she liad answered it without consulting her. " I was afraid otyonr indulgent afTectioti for me," said Selina. " I knew, that your judgment must decide as mine has done, but , that you would dread to give me present J pain ; therefore I have had thf courage to I determine for myself," ] Selina w^as surprised and mortified hy the ■ sudden and uncontrollable expression of ^ vexation io her mother's countenance. ] " Surely, my dear mother and friend, you 'i cannot hut think I have done right I " j " Young women never do right, when , they don't consult their friends," said Mrs . Sidney pettishly. These were almost the •nly angry words Selina had ever heard , from her mother ; and, as she expected high praise, instead of blame, she stood quite J confounded. *' Nay, don't look so miserable, child," , said Mrs.-Sidney ; " it's more my fault than I yours, after all ; but I would not, for any I consideration, you had declined this invita- ' tion. — Is the letter gone ? "' ." Yes, laa'ainj two hours ago !S6 VIVIAN. " Ah r my dear ! I shonld have t(^ jiou' but then, I cooLd not iadei I ctmid not tell you I " "What? my dear mother!" cried S Koa eagerly. •' Pray tell me the wholw truth!" No — Mrs. Sidney could not bring hi eelf to pive so much present pain, especially when she saw, by the anxiety expressed va Seliaa's countenance, how mnch her sensi- bility was excited even by this slight hint. " My love," said she, " compose your- seli^ and every thing nill turn out, voft'll' see, just as we wish. All young men, par- ticularly all fashionable young meny are a] little inclined to inconstancy; aud Vivian^; who is now plunged into tbe midst of dissv* pation, must have some allowances made- for him, and for tbe times. All will be; right at last, you'll see ; and, upon tbe whole, I think, my darling, you have judged, a» you always do, best; and, on manyac-. counts, I am glad that you did not accept, of lady Mary's invitation. — So forgive m*,, my hasty words, and keep up your spirits, my child, and all will be well," With eiich vagiie words of consolation J VIVIAW. 137 I ^oor Selina might be soothed, Imt she could not l>e rx«ntbrtert, done all tliat siiC ibunglit right and hononrablt. It happened, that Vivian was with his nuj- tfier at the Bjojuent when Selina's aiis«"er ar- m-ed. In the firm belief, tliiit such aprcsoing iovitatioQ as she had sent lo a person iit Selina's circumst;mces, and of Selina's tem- per, coald not be refused, her ladysliip had Uiiide it a point with her sou to dine tett-a- ttitc with her this day ; and she had heea talking to him in the most eloquent, but iiBprodent manner, of the contrast between tl'e characters of Mrs. Wharton and niits Sidney. He protested, that his esteem and love for mm Sidney were unabated ; yet, vhea his mother told bini, that he would, perhaps, in a tew miuates, see his Selina, he changed colour, grew embarrassed and melancholy, and thus, by his looks, etfcc- tually conti-adicted his words. He was roiued from his reverie by the arrival of ina's letter. His mother's dttappuint- faeut and anger were expressed in tha mroogest terms, wheusha found thatSelin* T 138 VIVIAN. decHuetl her invitation j but such are the fjuick and steraingly perverse turns of th» human heart. — Vivian grew warm in Se- liiia's defence, the moment that his mother became angry with her; be read her letter with tender emotion, for he saM' through the whole of it the Htrengthj as well as the delicacy, of her attachment. All that his mother's praises had failed to effect wa» iinmediately accomplished by this letter ; and he, who but an instant before dreaded to meet Selina, now that she refused to come, was seized with a strong desire to see her: his impatience was so great, that he would willingly have set out that infant for the country. Men of such characters as Vivian's are pecnliaily jealous of their frfce will i and, precisely because they know, that tliey are easily led, they resist, in affairs of the heart especially, the slightest appear; , of control. '' Lady Mary was delighted to bear be* son declare bis resolution to leave town ths, next morning, and to see miss Sidnejr^ as soon as possible ; but she could not for- bear reproaclung him for not doing what she wanted precisely in the uiainicr TIVIA.V. 139 which she had pJanocd, that it shonld be done. " I see, my dear Charles," cried she, •• thai, even when yon do right, I most not flatter myself, that it is owing to any in- fluence of mine. (live my (.ompliinents to miss Sidney, and assure her, that I shall ill fntnre forbear to iiijnre her in your opi- nion by my interference, or even by ex- pressing my approbation of her character. My anger, it is obvions, has served her better than my kindness; and, therefore, she has no reason to regret, that my affec- tion has been lessened — as 1 confess it has beeii_ — by her late conduct." The next morning, when Vivian was pre- pared to leave town, he catted upon Whar- ton, ,-tu settle with Iiim about some political business, which was to Ije transacted in his absence. Wharton was not at home Vi%-ian knew, tliat it would be best to avoid seeing Mrs. Wharton; but he was afraid that she would be oflended, and lie could Dot help sacrificing a Jew mhintes to polite- ness. The lady was alone ; apparently very languid, and charmingly melancholy. Be- fore Vivian could explain himself, she 140 VIVIAN, poured fortii, in silly phrases, bat m a that made even nonsense please, a variety reproaclien, for his having absented himself for such ft lenjrth of time. — " Positively, shi would keep hira prisoner, now that she ha^ him safe once more." To he kept pri soner by a fair lady was so flatterJn}^, tha it was a full lioiir hefore he could prevai upon himself to asBert hia liberty — the feai of giving pain, indeed, influenced hira stii| more thsQ vanity. At last, Mhen MrOh Wharton spoke of her enffagementa for tlw evening, and seemed to taku it i'or granted^ thitt he would he oi' Uer party, ho moned resolution sufficient — Oh ! woqf? derfnl effort of courage ! — to tell her, that he was onder a necessity of leaving town immef diateJy. " Going, I presume, to ." " To the country," said Vivian firmly. " To the country !— — No, no, no ; say, once, to S^liual — Tell me the ivorst in ( word!" Astonished heyoud nieasure, Vivian had! not power to move. The lady fell hack the sofa iu violent hysterics. Our hent tiemblcd lest any gf her servants shoiUA VIVIAN. 141 come in, or lest her husband should, at his retorii, find her in this condition, and dis- cover the cause. He endeavoured in vain to sooth and compose the vreeping fair one; be could not have the barbarity to leave her in this state. By sweet degrees, «te recovered her recollection — was in the fflost lovely confusion — asked where she was •^and what was going to happen. Vivian had not the rashness to run the risk of a ^ond fit of hysterics; he gave up all ftoughts of his jonmey for this day, and the iady recovered her spirits in the most flat- ^«ring manner. Vivian intended to post- Poae his journey only for a single day ; but, ^er he had yielded one point, he found that there was no receding. He was now |)ersuaded, that Mrs. Wharton was miser- >able; that she would never foi:give herself fecuniaiy favour. '* All is safe — Mrs. Wharton, at least, is safe, thank Heaven ! " thought Vivian. "Had VOL. V. M I4(i VIVIAN, tit r husband tlie slightest suspicion, he never' winikl coiiiifsceiul to iiccept of iiay fuvoui" Jroiii me." With eagerness, and ahiiost with tears of iiratitiidc, Virian pressed upon Wharton the money, nliii'h he condescended to Imrrow — it was no incousideiahlc sum. "Wharton I" cried he, " you sometimcB talk freely — too freely; bnt yon are, I am convineed, the most ojjen-hearted, nnsus- |jicious, generous feliow upon Earth — y< deserve a better friend than I am. Unable any longei- to suppress or eonceal tlie emotions, which struggled in his lieart; he broke away abraptly, hurried home, shnt himself up in his own ajJartnient, and sat down immediately to write to Mrs, Whar- ton. The idea that Mrs. Whartmi loved him in preference to all the fa^hiouahlc coxcombs and wits, by whom she ivaa sur- rounded, had insensibly raised our hero's opinion of her nnderstanding so much, that ke now imagined, that the world laboiu'ed under a prejudice agiiinst her abilities. He gave himself credit tor having discovered, that this Ijeimty was not a foul ; and he now spoke and wrote to her, as if she had been us- H VIVIAN. HT Konian of seAse. With t.'lo<|nenrc, «)ik-b l^ight have moved a uoiiiitii of gcoius ; witli delicacy, tiiat iniglit luive tuitctted a iv should become so far depraved ? Do I live to hear, from his own lips, that he is the seducer of a married woman — and that voman the wife of his friend:" Vivian walked iip and down the room iD' great agony; his mother continued, with' increased seventy of manner — " 1. say nothing of yonr dissimulatioD with me, nor of all your Platonic sub- terfuges — I know, that, with a man of in- trigue, falsehood is deemed a virtue. I shall not condescend to intjiiire farther into jour gwlty secrets — I. now think myself fortonatei in having no place in your confi* dencc. But I here declare, to yon, in thft most soleum manner, that I never will se* you again until all connexion between yoB> and Mrs. Wharton is utterly dissolved, t- do not advise — I command^ and must l» oWyed — or I cast you off for ever." Lady Mary left the room as she uttered^ these words. Her so%. vi'w^ 1^ VIVIAN, 157 .iritli his mother's eloquence : he knew she ■was right, yet his pride was wounded by the peremptory severity of her manner: — his remorse, and his good resolutions, gave -place to anger, Tlie more he felt himselF- in the wrong, the less he conld hear to be reproached by the voice of authority. Even because his mother commanded him to give- up all connexion with Mrs. Wliartoo, he was inclined to disobey — he could not bear to seem to do right merely in compliance to her will. He went to visit Mrs. Whar- ton in a very difiereut temper from that in ^vhichj half an hour befora this conference ■with his mother, he had resolved to see the lady. Mrs, Wharton knew how to take advantage both of the weakness of bis cha- racter and of the generosity of bis temper. ' She fell into transports of grief when she ■ fonnd, that lady Mai-y Vivian and miss Sid- ney were in possession of her secret. It was in vain that Vivian assured her, that it would be kept inviolably; she persisted in repeating, " that her reputation was losB; that she had sacrificed every thing for a I man, who would, at last, .desert her in the 'Biost treacherous and barbarous manuerj 158 VIVIAN. leaving her at the mercy of her husband, the most profligate, hard-hearted tyrnnt upon Earth. As to her being reconciled to him," she declared, " that was totally out of the qnestion ; his behavionr to her was such, that she could not live with him, c^^en • if her heart were not fatally prepossessed in favour of another." Her passions seemed wronglit to the highest pitch. With all the eloquence of beauty io distress, she ap- pealed to Vivian, as her only friend ; she threw herself entirely upon his protection ; she vowed, that she could not, would not remain another ddy in the same house with Mr. Wharton ; that her destiny, bcr exist- ence, were at Vivian's mercy. Vivian had ■ot sufficient fortitude to support this scene. He stood irresolute. The present tehipta- lion prevailed over his better resolutions. He was actually persuaded by this woman, whom he did not love, whom he could not esteem, to carry her oft" to the continent — whilst, at the very time, he admired, es- teemed, and loved another. The plan of the elopement was formed and settled in a few asinutes. On Mrs. Wharton's part, appa- rently, with all the hurry of passion ; on Vi- VJ\'1AN. 159 vian's, with all the confiisioii of despair. The same carriage, the very same liorsM* tiiat hail bees ordered to carry onr hero to Ids beloved Selina, conveyed him and Mr8. Wharton the first stage of their flight to- ■tards the continent. The next niornrng, titc folloving paragraph njipearcd iu the uwspapors : " Yesterday, the beautiftil and fashion- able Mrs. W******, whose marriage we anmmnced last year to the celebrated Mr. W******, eloped from his house in St, James's Street, in company with C****** V*****, member for shire. This ca- tastrophe has caused the greatest sensation and astonishment in the circles of fashion ; for the lady in tjuestion had always, till this fatal step, preserved the most iiuble- jnisheil reputation ; and Mr. and Mrs. \y"«««#** were considered as models of conjugal felicity. The injured husband was attending his public duty in the house of commons ; and, as we arc credibly in- ""fonned, was, with patriotic ardour, speak- 'ing in his country's cause, when this un- fortunate event, which for ever bereaves A J60 VIVIAN. him of domestic happiness^ took place; What must increase the poignancy of his feelings, upon the occasion, remains to be stated — that the seducer was his intimate friend, a^ young raan> whom he had raised^ into notice m public life, and whom he had^ with all that warmth and confidence of heart, for which he is remarkable, intro«* duced into his house, and trusted with his^ beloved wife. Mr. W****** is^ we hear^, inr pursuit of the fugitives.!* CHAPTER VII. In the modern, fusliionable code of ho- nour, when a man has seduced, or carried tiffhis friend's wife, the next thing he has to do is to fight the man whom he has in jni-ed and betrayed. By thus appealing to the ordeal of the duel, he may not only clear himself from guilt ; hut, if it be done 'with proper spirit, he may acquire celebrity and glory in the annals of gallantry, and in the eyes of the fair and innocent. In our hero's place, most men of fashion would have triumphed in the notoriety of his of- fence, and would have rejoiced in an oppor- tnnity of offering the husband the satisfac- tion of a gentleman. But, unfortunately for Vivian, he had uot yet suited his prin- dples to his practice : he had acted like a man of fashion ; hut, alas ! he still thought l*nd felt like a man of virtue — as the fol- lowing letter will show. ^j9^ VIVIAN. " To the Rev. Henry Rl'ssell, " Indignant as you will be, Rassell, at '• all you hear of me, yon cannot be more " shocked than I am myself. I do not write " to palliate, or apologize — my cnndnct " admits of no defence — 1 shall attempt " none, private, or public — I have written *' to my lawyer to give directions, that no " sort of defence shall be set up, on my part, " when the affair conies into Doctors Con*- " mons — as it shortly will ; for, I undet- " stand, that poor Wharton has commenced " a prosecution. As to dami^s, he has " only to name tl.tein — Any thing within *' the compass of my fortiine he may com- " mand — Wonld to God that money coold " make him amends! — Bnthe is too genei^ " ous, too noble a fellow — profligatt " he is in some things, how incapable would " he be of acting as basely as I have donet " There is not, perhaps, at this moment, " human being, who has so high au opinicni " of the man I have injured, as 1 have niy- " self : — he did not love his wife — Imt " that is no excuse for me ■ — Ids honom- i» " as moch wonoded, as it' I had robbed hiin " of her dnring the tiine he loved her eiost " fondly : — he once doated npon her, and " would have loved her again, when he was " tired ot his gdll^ntries ; and theT might " then hare lived together, hs hap|)ilr as " ever, if 1 had not been What " was I ? — What am I ? — Xot a villain — " or I should glory in what I liave done — " bat the weakest of hmn^m beings — And " how tme it is, Russell, that ' all wicked " iiess is weakness !' " I understand, that W , wherever " he goes, caiU me a coward, as well as a " scoundrel ; and says, that I have kejjt ont " of the way to avoid fighting him. — He is '* mistidten. — It is true, I had the utmost " dread of having his life to answer for — " and nothing should have provoked loe to " Bre n])on hbn ; — but I had determined "' how to act — I would have met him, and " have stood his fire. — I should not be " sorry, at present, to be put out of the '* ^-orld ; and would rather fall by his hand, * than by tiny other. But, since this is out " of the [question, and that things haya " taken another turn, I have only to live, as 164 VIVIAN. " long as it shall please God, a life of rev " morse — and, at least, to try to make thc^^ " unfortuuatc woman, who has thrown hei*- " self upon my protection, as happy as I., " can. " If you have any remaining regard for at " pupil, who has so disgraced you, do raec " one favour — Go to miss Sidney, and giw *' her what comfort you can. Say nothing! "^^ for me, or of me^ but that I wish her tth " forget me, as soon as possible. She dia^^ " carded me from her heart, when she first, " discovered this inti'igue — before this last " fetal step. — Still 1 had hopes of recovep- " ing her esteem and aifection ; for I had " resolved . But no matter what £. " resolved — all my resolutions fiiiled; and: "jQOW I am utterly unworthy of her love^ " This, and all that is good and happy iit "life; all the fair hopes and virtuoiis pro*- " mises of my youth, I must give up. Earl^ " as it is in my day, my sun has set. £ " truly desire, that she should forget me —^ "for you know I am bound in honour — > " Honour! How dare I use the word? — X, " am bound, after the divorce, to marry the-^ " tf P,o:yip. I have seduced. Oh, Russell I' VIVIAN. 165 ■"what a Tpife for yonr friend! — What a ■"danghter-in-law for my poor raother, "" after all her care of my edacation ! all ■" her affection ! all her pride in me ! — It will "break her heart! Mine will not hreak. " I shall drag on, perhaps, to a miserable "old age. I am of loo feeble a nature to " feel these things as strong minds woald^ — " as yoQ will for me ; but do not blame yonr- " self for my faults. All that man could do " for me, yon did. This must be some con- " solation to you, my dear and excellent "friend! May 1 still call you friend? — " or have I no friend left upon Earth ? "C. Vivian." From this letter, some idea may he formed of what this unhappy man suffered, at this period of his life, from " the reflections of a mind not used to it's own reproaches." The view of the future was as dreadful as the retrospect of the past. His thoughts con- tinually dwelt upon the public trial which was preparing — before him he saw all it s disgracefiil ciraim stances. — Then the hor- rour of marrying, of passing his whole ftiture existence, with a woman, whom he could WSf VIVIAN, not esteem or trust ! Tlicse Itist weTl secret subjects of anxiety and angiiish, tl* more inteiiBely f<^lt, because he ruuld no speak of these teeliiigs and doubts to an; human being. — Such as Mrs. Wliartoi was, she was to be Lib wife; and he wa called upon to defend her against reproacl and insult, — if possible, from contemptJ During the course of six weeks, which the] spent together in exile, at Bnisscls, Vlviai became so altered in his appeai^ancCj tha his most intimate friends could scared^ have known him ; his worst enemies, if had had anyj could not have desired thtf prolongation of his sufl'erings. One evening, as he was sitting alone i& his hotel, ruminating hitter thought; letter was brought to him from Mr.RusaeHj the iirst he had received since he left Eng^ land. Every one, who has been absent froQf his friends in a foreign country, must know the sort of emotion, which the hare sight of a letter from home excites ; btit, in Vivian's circumstances, ubandoncil as h? felt himself, and deserving to he abandone4 by his best friends, the sight of a letter fronj Russell so struck him, that he gazed upon VIVIAN. 167 le direction for some miniitps, :ilinust with- ont power or \vi*ib to open it. At last he opened, and read ■ — " Ketnni to yoor country, your friends, and yourself, V'iviau! Yonr day is not yet overl Your suu is not yet set I Re- sume your energy — recover your self- " confidence — carry your good resolutions " into cflect — and you may yet be an *' honour to yonr fajnily, a delight to your fond mother, and the pride of your friend " Rnssell. — Your remorse has been poignant "and sincere; let it be sahitary and per- " manent in it's consetioences. The part of a man of sense and virtue is to make his past crrours of use to his future conduct. — Whilst I bad nothing to say, that could " give you pleasure, I forbore to answer " yoar letter. Now, I can relieve your mind froui part of the loud, by which it has " been oppressed. You ha\e not be-" ''.trayed Mr. Wliarton — be has ■Iwtrayed yon. Yon have not seduced Mrs, Whar- ton • — you have been seduced by her. " Yon are not bound to marry hfr — Whar- *' ton cannot obtain a divorce — he dare " not bring the affair to trial ; if he does, r ifll' VIVIAN. " he U undone. There has been colInsicBj " between the parties. The proof of thu " you will find in the enclosed paper, which " will be sworn to, in due, legal fomij " whenever it is necessarj'. Even whei " you see tliem-, you will scarcely believe " these ' damning proofs ' of Wharton'i " baseness. But I always knew, I ;dwayt *' told you, that this pretence to honour and *' candour, frankness and friendshij), witlj " this avowed contempt of all principle " all virtue, could not be safe, could not b^ ** sincere, would not stand tlte test. " No — nothing should make nie trust t» " the private honour of a man, so corrupt ia " public life as Mr. Wharton. A man, wha '* sells his conscience for his interest, will' " sell it for his pleasure. A man, who will. " betray his country, wiU betray his friend. •* It is in vain to palter with our conscience ;: " there are not two Imnours — two honesties "■ — it i» all one virtue — integrity! ■ " How I rejoice, at this moment, in the re-; " flection, that your character, as a public '* man, is yet untarnished. You have still " this great advantage : — feci it's value. — " Return, and distinguish yourself among VIVIAN I0» " yotur conntrynieD : distingaish yourself " l)y integrity, still more than by talcuts. " A certain degree of talents is now cheap " in England : integrity is what we want — " trae patriotism, true public spirit, noble " ambition ; not thftt vile scramble for places " and pensions, which some men call ambi- "Uon; not that bawling, brawling, T/icrsites " character, which other men call pulilic " spirit ; not that marketable commodity, ■ " with which Wharton, and such as he, "cheat popular opinion for a season: — " bnt that fair virtue, wliich will endure, " and abide by it's cause to the last; which, " in place or out, sliall be the same ; which, " snccessfijl or unsiiccessful, sliall sustain " the possessor'^ character through all " changes of party ; which, wliilst he li%'es, " shall command respect from even the most *' profligate of his contemporaries ; upon " which, when he is dying, he may reflect "with satisfaction; which, after his death, "shall be the consolation of his friends, " and the glory of his country. All this ■ " is yet in your power, Vivian. — Come, " then, and fulfil the promisd of your early " years ! Come, and restore to your mother ^^ r ff9 VIVIAN. " a son worthy of her I Come, and snrpRi ' the ho])fs of yoiir true frUnd — " H. Ru-MELL." Tile rapid succession of feelings, witll which ^'^ivian read this letter, can scaroelj be imagined. The paper it enclosed waii from a fonner waiting maid of Mrs. Whar- ton's ; a woman, who was exjiected to be the principal evidence on Mr. Wliartdn'* aide. She had lieen his misti-ess; one irf those innumeralde mistresses, to whom h*' had, of course, addressed his transfer^Ifi promises of eternal constancy. She, too, of course, had believed the vow, in spite <^all experience and probability ; and, while ".he pardoned his infidelities to her raistresSj &c., :dl which she deemed very natural for d genthnum, like him, yet she was astonished- and outrageous, when she fonnd him faith- less to her own charms. In a fit of jea- lousy, she flew to Mr. Russell, whom shb knew to be Vivian's friend ; and, to revengtf herself on Wharton, revealed the secMlS/ which she had in her power ; pnt into Rus- sell's hands the proofs of collusion betweeti Mr, Wharton and liis wife ; and took mali- Sous pains to substantiate lier evidence, to lawyer's fall satisfaction; knnwinp;, that she luigltt pre\"eiit tlie possi^iIity of a di- foTce, and I^at she should thus punish her Iwjared inconstant in the most sensible •inner, by at once depriving him of twenty boasund ponnds damages, and by chain- iig him again to a wife, whom Ue ab- Inrred. f The same post, which brought Vivian this E man's deposition and Ras^eU's letter, mgfat Mrs, Wliarton notice, that the olfe plan of collusion was discovered: she 'as, iiiepefove, prepared for Vivian's re- laches, and received the first burst of his lonhhment and indignation with a stu- Magdaleii expression of countenance ; she atteinpte'd a silly apology, laying liie blame on her huiibatid, and vowing lat she iiad acted undur terrour, and that Iher life WQ«Id not have been safe in his Innds, if she had not implicitly obeyed and iexecttted his horrid plans. She wept and Reeled in vain. Finding Vivian immovable Sb bis purpose to return immediately to Gngland, she suddenly rose from her knees, I i -17« VIVIAK. and, all beautifiil as she was, looked is ViviRii's eyes like a fiend, whilst, with an nnnatural smile, she said to him : — " Yon see, fool as I am thought to be, I have been too clever for some people; and I ran tell Mr. Wharton, that I have been too clever for him, too. His heart is set upon x divorce i hot he can't have it. He can't marry miss P , or yet her fortune, nor ever shall! I shall remain at Brussels — I have friends here — and friends, who were my friends before I was forced to give my hand to Mr. Wharton, or my smiles to yon, sir ! — people who will not teaze me with talking of remorse and repentance, and such ungallant, nngentlcmanlike stuff; wot sit bewailing themselves, like a country parson, instead of dashing out with me here in a fashionable style, as a man of any spirit would have done. — But you ! — you're nei- ther good nor bad ; and no woman will ever love you, or ever did. Now you know my whole mind." " Would to Heaven I had known it sooner!" said Vivian. "No — I that I did not sooner know, and that I — I rejoicej that I ncvflkfl V 1 \ I A N. i7;i could have suspected such depravity ! under such a foriu, too ' " Mrs, Wharton's eye glanced, with satis- &cdon, upon the large mirronr oppo- site to her. Vivian left her in utter dis- gust and horrour. " Drive on!" cried he, as he threw himself into the chaise, that was to carry him away ; " Faster ! faster ! " The words, " And no woman will ever love yon, or ever did," rnng npon Vivian's ear. " There she is mistaken, thank Htii- Ten!" said he to himself: yet the words itill dwelt upon his mind, and gave him ex- quisite pain. Upon looking again at Rus- sell's letter, he observed, that Selina Sidney's name was never mentioned; that she was neither directly nor indirectly atlnded to in the whole letter. What omen to draw from this he could not divine. Again he read it ; and all that Russell said of public life, and luB exhortations to him to come and distin- ^ish himself in public, and in the political ■world, struck him in a new light. It seemed as if Russell ivas sensible, that there ■were no farther hopes of Selina, and that, therefore, he tried to turn Vivian's mind irom love to ambition. Fourteen times he r 174 VIVIAN, read oyer this letter, before he reachei England ; but he conld not discover firoin i any thing, as to the point on which hil heart was most interested. He reachei Lundoa in this uncertainty. " Put nie ont of suspense, niy besl firiendT' cried he, the moment he sai RuBsell — " Tell me, is Selina living?" " Yes — she has been very ill, bat is noi recovered — quite recovered, and with yen mother, who is grown fonder of her tba ever she waa." " Selina ailve! well! and with mr me ther ! — and may I — 1 don't mean may I mnv, bat may E ever hope ? Believe I feel myself capable of any exertions, anjt forbearance, to obtain her forgiveness — to merit May 1 ever hope for it Speak I " Rosisell assured him, that he need not dread miss Sidney's resentment, for thai she feh none ; she hiid expressed pity, mor^" than anger — that she had taken pains to Booth his mother; and had expressed sincerar' sati^action on hearing of his release from his unworthy bondage, and at his return home to his friends. '-" VIVIAN. 175 The tone in wlu<--h Bossell spoke, antl tlie teriouguess and eiubarrussinrot of his man- ner, alarmed V'iviuit iuexpressiib])'. He stood silent, a»d dared iiot ask farther ex- plaoation, tor sonic niimitcs, — At length, iw broke silence; and conjured hU friend to (CO immediately to miss Sidney and Lts Biotlier, and to request permission for him lo see them both, in each other's presence. Russell said, that, if Vivian insisted, he ■would comply with his request ; but that he advised him not to attempt to see miss Sid- ney at present ; not till he had been soma time in Loadon — till he had given some earnest of the steadiness of his conduct — - till be hud appeared again, and distinguished bimself in public life . " 'I'lm might raise you again in lier esteem ; and," continued Russell, " you must be aware, that her love depends on her esteem — at least, that the one cannot exist without the other." " Will you deliver a letter to her from me?" said Vivian. " If you think 1 bad better not attempt to see her yet, yon will deltrer a letter for me ? " S'Sf& VIVIAN. After some hesitation, or rather some de-^ litieration, Russell answered, in a con-- strained voice — . " I will deliver your letter, if you insist, upon It." 4 Vivian wrote : — Russell undertook to de- liver the letter, though with evident reluc-^ tance. In the mean time, Vivian went to- see hi^ mother, whom he longed, yet dreaded to meet. Her manner was not now severoi and haughty, as when she last addressed him ; I'Ut mild and benign: she held oat her hand to him, and said — " Thank God ! my son is restored to me, and to himself!" « She could say no more ; but embraced! him tenderly. Russell had shown lady^ Mary, that her son had been the dupe of a preconcerted scheme to work upon his pas- sions. She deplored his weakness, but she had been touched by bis sufterings; and was persuaded, that his remorse would guard him against future errours. Therefore, not q.. vi'ord or look of reproach escaped from her; When he spoke of Selina, lady Mary, with great animation of countenance and warmth VIVIAN. 177 of enloginin, declared, that it was the first wish of her heart to see her son married t<^ a woman of such a nahle character and an- gelic temper ; " but" added her ladyship,; her manner changing suddenly, as she pro- DDunced the word hut Before she could txplain the but, Russell came into the room, lad told Vivian, that niis» Sidney desired to see him. Vivian heard the words with joy ; but his joy was checked by the great gravity and embarrassment of his friend's counte- nance, and by a sigh of ill omen from hi^ mother. Eager to relieve Ins suspense, he bastened to Selina, who, as Kussell told him, was in lady M;iry's dressing-room — the room la which iie had first declared his passion for her. Hope and fear alteniate seized him — fear prevailed, the moment that he beheld Selina. Not that any strong displeasure appeared in her countenance — no — it was mild and placid; bnt it was changed towards hiui, and it's very serenity was alarming. Whilst she welcomed him to his native country and to his friends, and whilst she expressed hopes for his future happiness, all hope forsook him, and, in ^genteuces, he attempted to stammc^ r 4 jccts likely to be discossed in tlie ensuing session of parliament. At length, his appli- cation and his energy were crowned with suc- cess. On a question of considerable politjca} importance, which he had carefully consi- VIVIAN. 183 dered, he made an excellent speech ; a speech, which directly made him of conse> i quence in the house; which, in the lan- goage of the newspapers, " was received with nnbonnded applause, was distingiiisihed . Hot strei^th of argument, lucid order, and a happy choice of cxpressioa." But what encouraged onr hero more than newspaper ' polls or party panegyrics, was the appro- bation of his friend Knssell. Knssell never prmsed violently ; bnt a few words, or even a look of satisfaction from him went farther than the most exaggerated eulogiums from other?. Vivian pursued his coarse for some- time with honour and increasing reputation. There was oiie man, who nerer joined ia- aiiy of the compliments paid to the rising water; there was one man, who always- ^H^e of him with contempt^ who pro* notmced, that " Vivian woald never go- far in politics — that it was not in him— that he was too soft — ([ue c'etoit batir sur de ta boue, qne de compter sur lui." Thi* depreckUor and enemy of Vivian's was the- man, who, but a few months before, had been his political proneur and unblushing flatterer, Mr, Wharton. Exasperated by the n mJ F IW VIVIAN, consciousness of his own detected Iiasenessjti and provoked, still more, by his being frus-^ trated in all bis* schemes, Wharton nonv) practised every art, that a iDaticious and un- principled wit conld devise, to lower thci opinion of Vivian's talents, and to prevenis his obtaining either power or celebrity, OuP^ hero was stimulated by this conduct to fresb I exertions. So far, Wharton's enmity wa34 of sei-vice to him; bnt it was of dis8errice,J by changing, in some measarc, the purity^ of the motives from which he acted. With i love and honourable ambition now mixed" hatred, thoughts of vengeance, views crfj vulgar vanity, and interest; he thought ' more of contradicting Mr. Wharton's pro- phecies, than of fulfilling his own ideas of t what was fair and right. He was anxions ■ to prove, that he could " go Jar in politics^ that it was in him, that he was not too soft, and that it was not building on mud to de- pend on him." These indefinite expressions operated powerftilly and perniciously on his imagination. To prove that Wharton was mistaken in his prognostics, it was neces- sary to our hero to obtain the price and Btamp of talents — it was essential to gam political power; and this conld not be ai- i tained without joining a party. Vivian i joined the party then in epposilion. Whar- ton and he, though both in opposition, of course, after what had pa»5ed, could never I itieet in any private company ; nor had they any communicatlou in pubHc, though on the same side of the question : their enmity Was so great, that not only the hnsiness of the nation, but even the interests of their Jiarty, was often impeded by their cjuarrels. In the midst of these disputes, Vivian in- ■«ensibly adopted more and more of the lan- guage and principles of tlie public men, with whom he daily associated. He begaa to hear and talk of compensations and jobs, a^ they did ; and to consider all measures, proved to be necessary for the sopport of hia party, as expedient, if not absolutely right. His country could not be saved, Doless he and his friends could obtain tlio management of affairs ; and no men, he found, coidd gain j>:irlianieDtary inftuencCj, or raise themselves into poUtical power, ' without acting as a Itodi/. Then, of course, all subordinate points of right were to be sacrificed to the great good of promoting i A 196 VIVIAN, the views of tb« party. This argument, founded ob the necessity of acting in con- cert, was applied continuiilly; and Viviaot_ found, that it extended daily the bounds o£. his coQseience. Still, however, lus patriot- ism was, iu the main, pnre; he had no per- sonal views of interest, no desire even to be in )^ace, iade})endent uf a wi&h to promote tlie good of his country. Secret overture* were, about this time, made to him by government ; and in him, relinquished all pretensions to it ; and, absolntely refusing ta «t0 VIVIAN, accept of it, insisted upon liis friend's ra^ tiiining whatever advantage could piojjerly be derived from the right of presentation* The sum, which this enabled Vivian to raise, , was fully sufficient to satisfy the execution^, which had been laid on his castle ; and thai less clanjorons creditors were content to ha- paid fay instalmentsj annually, from his in- come. Thus he was saved for the present ; and he formed the most prudent resolves tor the future. He was most sincerely gratehil to his disinterested friend. The full extent of die sacrifice, which Russell made him, was not, however, knoivn at this time, nor for some years afterwards. But, without anticipation, let us proceed with our story. Amongst those fashionable and political friends, with whom our hero tiail, since Ins return to Enghmd, renewed his connexion, %va8 my lord Glistonbury. His lordship, far from thinking the worsa of lum fra- his affair with Mrs. Wharton, dpokc of it, in modish slang, as " a new and . fine feather in his cap ;" and he congratn- - lated Vivian upon his ha\'ing " carried off the prize without paying the price." Vivian's success, as a parliamentary orator, had still VIVIAN. 191 irthcr endeared him to liis lordship, who iiuled not to repeat, that he had always pro- yhecied, Vivian would make a capital figure n pcblic lite; that Vivian was his iiiem- Jber, &c. At the recess, lord Glistonbury insisted upon carrying Vivi«n do\Tn to spend die Christinas hoUdays with him at Glisten- fcury Castle. *' You must come, Vivian ; so make your ifellow put your worldly goods into my ba- ,ro«che, which is at tiie door — and we are ito have a great party !it Glistonbury — and tvrivate theatricals, and the devil knows mrhat ; aiid you must see my little Julia r«ct, and I must introduce yon to the Rosa- munda. Come, come I you can't refuse me ! —Why, yon have only a bachelor's castle of your own to go to; and that's a dismal *ort of business, compared with what I have in petto for you — ' The feast of reason, and the flow of soul ' in the first style, I assure yon — Ymi must know, I always — even in the midst of the wildest of my wild oats — had a taste for the belles lettres, and philo- sophy, and the muses, and the literati, and 80 forth always a touch of the Mae- cenas about me — And now my boy 's 39S VIVIAN. i^rowing up, it's more particalarly proper to bring these sort of people about him ; for, you know, cle^'er men, who have a rei>uta- tion, can sound a flourish of trumpets ad- vantageously before ' a Grecian youth oft talents rare' makes his appearance on the stage of the great world — Ha! hey! — Is < not this what one may, call prudence? — Ha! — Good to have a father, who knows something of life, and of books too, hey r- Then, for my daughters, too daughter*,' I mean ; for lady Sarah's lady Glistonbury's child", her ladyship and miss StrictlandJ have manfactured her after their own tastft and fashion; and I've nothing to say ta that — But my little Julia Ah, I'v* got a different sort of governess about hej^ these f»;w months past — not without f»J mily battles, you may guess. But when Jnd piter gives the nod, you know, even Janoj, stately as she is, must bend. — So I have my Kosamnnda for my little Julia — whoj by the hy, is no longer my little JuUa, but a prodigious fine woman, as you shall see* But, all this time, is your fellow putting your things up ? No ! — Hey ? how ? Ohj 1 understand your long fiice of hesitation — VIVIAN. 193 Yon have not seen theJudies since llieWhar- toii afiitir, and you don't know how they might jtook — Never fear ! — lady Glistonhury shall •do as 1 pleaw, and loek as I please. Be- tides, efitre voiis, 1 know alie hate^^ tlitr Wliartons ; so that her morality ■vvill have eJoopliofc lr» cvecp out of; and you'll be fcafe and snag, whilst all the hlame will be tliTowH on them — Hey! — Oh. I under- stand things — piqne myself on investigat- ing the hnman heart. Come, we have not a moment to lose • — and yon'll have your friend Hussell, too' — Come, come! to have •aad to iioid, as ttie lawyei-s say ." Seizing Vivian's arm, lord Glistonbory tarried hiju off before h« had half nndci"- stood all iiis lai-dship had poured forth so Tapidjy j and before lie had decided whe- ther he wished or not to accept of this invi- 19* CHAFIER VIII. On his way to Glistoiibury Castl^, Vivian lUad fiill leisure to repent of having accepted dfthis invitation, recoUecting, rs he did, all tlie former rejiorts ubout Liuiselt' and lady Sarah Lidhurst. He determined, therefore, ti^^t liiis visit should he as short as pos&ihle : and the chief pleasure lie promi-sed himself was the society of his friend Russell. On his iixrh'ul at the ensile, he whs told that Mr. Russuli was out, riding ; and that every body else was in the theatre, at a rc- hearaal, except l(0y Glistonhnry, tlie lady Sariih, and mi»js Strictland. He found &ese three Indies sitting in form in the great de- serted drawing-room, each looking like copy of the other; and all as if they were^ deploring the degeneracy of the times. Vi vian approached with due awe; but, to hiif great surprise and relief, at his approach^ their countenances exbibited some signs of' life and sati,-faction. Lord Glistonbury^rei B VIVIAN. ig.; him on his rt-tarn from abroad — listonljury's featares relaxed lo u smile, though she seemed immediately to rt-pent of it, and to feel it incumbent upon her to maintaiu her rigidity of mien. AVhilst <>bc, and of course miss Stiictland and the lady Sarah, were thus embarrassed bt't%recn the necessity of reprol»ating the sin, and the I dcsiru of pleasing the sinner, lord Gliston- 1 trary ran tm with one ef liis spueches, of I borrofTcd f^enifc, and original non-seiise; and fc then would have carried him off to the re- ^■hearsu], bnt lady GHstunliury called Vinan BtMurk, Ijegging, in her foimd manner, " that r her lari noald do her riie favour to leave Mr, Vivian ^vith her for a few minutes, as it was so long since she had liad the pleosnre of seeing him at GU^tonlmry." Vivian, re- tsmed M'ith as good a grace as lie could t and, to find means of hreaking the einbar rassing silence that ensued, took up a book, whicii lay upon the table, " Toplady's Ser- moas'" — no hope of assistance from that : he had recourse to another — equally un- lucky ! — " Wesley's Diary : " — another — " The Pilgrim's Progress." He went no farther ; bnt, looking np, he perceived, that tSa VIVIAN, the lady Samli was motimwd by lier angi mother to Iciive the room. Viwan bal BgJiiii recouTBe to "Teplady." " Very »□ fashionable books, Mr. Vivian,*' said miiss Strictland, bridling and smiling, as in scorn. " ^'^ery unfashionable books 1 " repeated lady Glistonbury, with the sanw inflection of voice, and the same bridling and smiling. *' Very different," continued her ladyship, ■ " very diftercnt from what yon have beeii'l acrnstomcd to see on same ladies' tables, niiM doubt, Mr. Vivian 1 Withont mentionin^l names, or alludmg to transactions, thd^ ought to be bulled In eternal oblivion, smS that are so very distressing to )'onr friends here to think of, sir, give mc leave to ask, Mr. Vivian, whether it be true, what I have heard, that the prosecution, and every thing relative to it, is entirely given up ? " " Entirely, madam." " Then," said lady Glistonbnry, glancing her eye at miss Strictland, "ive may welcome Mr. Vivian with safe consciences to Glis- tonbury; and, since the affair will never become jmblic, nnd since lady Sarah linmvB none of tlie improper particularsj ■ VIVIAN. 197 ■fedf since she niaV) ian\, from her education, ■atarally will, class all such things imdcv the bead of inipussibiiitics and false reports, of irhich people, in onr rank of life especially; lare sniiject, every honr to hear so many, there cannot, ae I am persuoded you will agree with' nie in thinking, miss Strictland, be any impropriety in our and lady Sarah's receiving Mr. Vivian again on the same footing as formerly." Miss Strictland howed her formal assent — ^'^ivian howed, hecanse he saw that a bow was expected from him; and then he pon- dered on what might be meant by the words' ■On the same footing as- fot^merlif ; and he i^ad jast framed a clause explanatory an^ restrictive of the snme, when he was inter- rnpted hy the sound of laughter, and of jinmerous, loud, and mingled Toites, com-, ihg along the gallery that led to the draw- ing-room. As if these were signals fur her departure, and'as if she dreaded the intm- fiion and contamination of the rcvel-ront, J»dy Glistoubury arose, looked at her watch, Jjronounced her belief, that it was full time- for her to go to dress, and retired through a j^etian door, followed by miss Strictland. ! ] r t9t VIVIAN, repeating the same belief, and bearing bef^ ladyship's tapestry work : her steps quick? ened as the door at the opposite end of the room opened; and cnrtsying — an unneces- sary apology to Mr. Vivian — as she passedj she leit him to himself. And noir, ' " He sees a train profusely gay Come pranckling o'ar the place." Some were dressed for comic, some for tra- gic characters ; but all seemed equally gay, and talked etjiuilly fast. There had I'crn a drt:ssed reliearsal of " The Fair Pt-iiittut,'* and of "The Romp;" and all the specta- tors and all tlie actors nere giving and re* ceiving' exuberant compliments. Vivian knew many of the party — some of them bel- esprits, some fashionable iunateurs ; all pretenders to notoriety, either as judges or performers. In the midst of this inotkyt group, there was one figure, who stood re-; ceiving and e.xpecting niuversal homage;, she was dressed as " The Fair Peni- tent;" but her aflected vivaeity of gesture. and countenance was in striking contrast to her tragic attire. And Vivian could hardly, forbear smiling at the minaKrfwTg* k .b; VIVIAN. 199 with wliich she listened and talked to tlio geatlemen roaad her ; now langnishiiig, now coqneHiog ; rolling her eyes, and throwing herself into a saciesaion of stadietl attitude?, ciealinij leyiartees to this sitle and to that i and, in shui-t, uinking the gi'eiitest possible exhibition both of her person and her mind. " Uont you know her? Did you never see her before ? — No ! you've been out of England; but you've heard of her, cer- tainly ? — Rosanmnda" whispered lord Glis- tonbury to Vivian. *' And who is Rosamnnda ? " said Vivian ,- •* an actress ? " " Actres? ! — Hush \ — Bless tou ! no — but the famous poetess. Is it possible that you lavVt read the poems of Rosanmmla ? — They were in every hody's hands :i few months ;igo, but vou were ahroad — Dctter 'engaged, or as well, hey? But, ;is \ was gmng to tell you, tliat's the reason she's called The Rosamnnda — I gave her the name, for I patronisbd her from the first — ' her real name is Batcman — and lady Glis- tonhury and her set call her miss Batemau ttill, but nobody eke — She's an amazing cfever ^vpman, I assure you — mare gcnm* than any of 'ein, snicc the time of Rousseau ! — Devil of a Siilary ! — and devil of a battle 1 bad to fight with some of my friend* before I could fix herLcre — Biit,I was deter- mined I would follow my own ideas in Jii- liji's education — Lady Glistonbnry had her way, and her routine with lady Sarah i and. it's all very weH, vastly well — • " Virtue for her loo painful an emlenvour, Contenl to dwelt in decencies Tor ever." You know the sort of thing ? Yes, yes — : Ijut I was not coutent to Lave my Julia lest among the mediocres, as 1 call them — so I took her out of miss Strictland's hauds ; mid the Rosamnnda's her governess." '• Her governess ! " rcjieatcd Vivian, with uncontrollable astonishment; '-'lady Julia LidlArsfs governess V , " Yes, you may well be surprised !" pursue^ lord Glistonbury, mistaking the cause of the surprise — " No oue in England could huvQ done it but myself — she refused ionnmerahle a}ip]ications, immense ofl'ers ; and after allj you know, she does not appear asgovernes* titric — only as a friend of the family, vha VIVIAN. 20i'-J dii*ects lady Julia Lidhurst's literary talents^ Oh T you understaud, a man of the world- kiion's liow to manage these things ■ — sacriw fices always to the vanity of the scr,. or Hux pride, as the case may he. I ueyer niind names, bat things, as the metaphvsicianv aay — distinguish betwixt essentials and' accidents — Sound pbiiosopliy, that I hey it And, thank Heaven! a: gentleman or a no- bleman' need not apologize, in these days^ for talking of philosophy before ladies —> even if anybody overheard us, which, us it happens, 1 believe nobody does. So- let. me, now that yow know youv Paris^ introduce you to "The Rosamunda." Mr..Vivia(t ■ — the Rosamunda. Rosaiunndu — Mr;. Vivian ." After Vivian had for a.few minutes acted' andience, very little to his own satisfactionj lie was reliewd by lord Glistonbury'a ex- dainiing — "But Julia! Where's Julia^ - all' this time?" Rosamunda looked round, with the air of one' intermjited by. a irivolous tjuestiony. which rerjuires no answer ; hot some one;^-' less exalted, and more attentive to the com: K 5 m^m- nion foiins uf civility, told his lordship, that lady Julia was walking in tlie gallery with her brother. Lord Glistonbnry har- ried Vivian into the gallery. Vivian waa strock, the moment he met lady Julia, with the great change and improvenient in her appearance. Instead of the childish girl he had formerly seen "flying abont, fiill only ef the frolic of the present moment, he now saw a fine graceful woman, with a striking eonntenance, that indicated both genius, and sensibility. She was talking to her brothep with so much eagemesi, that she did not i^ee Vivian come into the gallery; and, as he walked on towards. tlie farther end, where she was standing, he had time to admire her. " A fine girl, faith ! though sii« b my daughter," whispered lord Glistonhury, "and would you beKeve tbat she is only sixteen ■ " " Only sixteen ! " " Ay : and stay, till you talk to her — ■ tay lUl you hear har~you will he more surprised. Such genius ! such eloquence I She's my own giri. — — Well Julia, my darling ! " cried he, raising his Toice, '* iik :the clouds, as usuat } " Lady JoHa tiiarted — but it was a natarali not a theatric start — colouring at the cotf- scioosness of faer o^m absence of mind.;. She came fonvard witli a maiinep, tliat apo-^ l^ized better than words could do, and she received Mr, Vivian so courteonsly, and with bixch ingenuous pleasure in her connteiirtnce, that he began to rejoice in having accepted the invitation to GHstoabnrj- : at the same iustant, he recollected a look which his mother had given hini be&)rc, when he finst saw lady Julia^ on the terrace of the castle. " Well, what was she saying to you. Lid*, hnrst ? hey t my boy f "^ " We were arguing, sir," . " Arguing ! Ay, ay, she's the devil for ' that ! — word* at will.! — ' Pejsuasive wordsy and more pcrsnasive sighs!' Ab, wtHiuinl woainn. for ever I always talking ns out of our senses I' and which of the best of us would not wish it to-be so? — *Oh! let me^ let me hs deceived! ' is the cream of phUo- sojiby, Epicoreun and Stoic, at least that's my creed. But, to the point ! What was it about that she was holding forth so chana« togly ? a book, or a lover? — -A book. Fit Kager ; she's such a romantic little fool, and 90 unlike other womcu: leaves all her ad^ 1^204 VIVIAN. mirers there in the drawiog-rooni, aud stays put liere, talking over musty books with her brother. But come, what was the point : I will have it argiied again before me. — Jjct's see the book." Lord Lidhurst pointed out a speech in •' The Fair Penitent," and said, that they had Jieen debating about the manner in which it- should be recited. Lord Glistonbury called"* iipon his daughter to repeat it ; she showed' a slight degree ot" unaffected timidity at first; hut when her father stamped, and bid her let him see no ^'ulgar bashfulness, sht ■ .^obeyed — recited, charmingly — and, wheu- " aiged by a little, oppoj-itiou from her bro- ther, grew warut in defeiu-e of her own opinion — ■ displayed in it's support such eeneibility, > with; such a flow of elo* quence, aecompanied with such ajiimated find graceful, yet natural gesture, that Vivian w;i9 transported with sudden admi- ration. He was astonished at this early de- Telopment of feeling and intellect ; and if,, in the midst of bis delight, he felt soma latent disapprobation of this display of ta- lent, from so young a woman, yet he qiiickl j justified her to himself by saying, that he UBis not a straoger ; tha,t lie had fonnerljn been received by her family on a footing of mtimacy. Then he observed farther, in her vindication^ that there was not die slightesft afiectation or cotjnetry in any of her \vord9 or motions ; that she spoke with this eager- Dess, not to gaiiL admiration, bnt because . she veaa caaried away by Iier eiithnsiasiii^ and, thoughtless of herself, was eager only to persuade, and to lUitke her opinions pre- vail. Such wasr the enchantment ot" her eloquence anil her beimty, that, after a^ tjuarter of an hour spent iu her company^, enr hero did not know whether to wish, that' she had nioi-e sedateuess and reserve, or to rejoice, tlmt she was so animated and na^ taral. Before he coiild decide this pointj. his friend- Russell! returned from riding.. After the first greetings- «cre over, Rusself drew him a^ide, and asketl ~ : " Pray, my dear. Vivian, what brings yoa. here ? " ' "Lord Glistonburyi — to whom I had not" time to say no ; he talked so fast. But| after all, why should I say no ? I am a frea man — a discarded lover. 1 am. absolutely SOe VIVIAN, convinced, that Selina Sidney's refusal wiH »ever be retracted ; my mother, I know, is «f that opiniou. You snggested, that, if f distinguished myself in- pnblic Hfe, amd showed steadiness, I might recover her esteem and. affection ; bnt I ste no chanc& •f it- My mother showed me her last lettep- — no hopes from that — so I think it would be niadnesB, or folly, tcwRate my time, and wear out my feelings, i» pursuit of a woman ,. who, however amiuhle, is lost to me." " Of that you- are tlu; best judge," saieak- ing of the report at once to some of the fa- mily. I was going to rise to explain thi* notning, when 1 was with lady Gliston* Vury ; hut I fell a sort of delicacy — it was aa awkward time- — and, at thatmoment^. soB^ebody came into, the room."' " Ay," said Russell, " yoa are jast tiker the hera of a novel, stopped from sayii^ S09 VIVIAN, what he onght to say, hy somebody's commg into the room; — Awkward time! — Take care yo« lion't sacrifice yonrself, at lastj tb these aw/tivardnesjies Kod these sort of delicacies. — Ihave still ray fears, that you will get into diftictilties' about lady Sai-ah." Vivian eunld' not help laughing at wha^ he called his friend's absurd fears. " If you are determined, my dear Russell^ at all events, to fear forme, I'll suggest to you a more reasonable cause of dread; Sup- pose I should fall desperately iii. love with lady Julia '. 1 assure you there's some dangev of that. She is reidly very handsome and' very graceful ; uncommonly clever and elo^ quent — as to the rest, you, know her — what is she?"' " All that you have said, and more. She- ha3 more genius and more sensibility, than I have ever before' seen-in: a girl of her age.. She might be made aiiy thing — every thing ; an ornament to her sex — an honour to her country — wei'e she under tlie guid- ance of persons fit to -direct great powers and a noble character ; but I dare not pre- dict what may become of her, nndcr the,nris- mamtgcraent of those, to whom she js:at E_L_ VIVIAN. n)9 ; prcseat abandnoed. With the education she . has undergone, and that to which sho i» now exposed, one having controlled her in i every, even the uiost innocent, thought and action ; the other suddenly setting her free from all restraints, even from those the nio»t \ rational and aecessiiry to her sex and to ^ society. I say she ntnat be something niOre tliiin female, more than human, to be safe* No man of prudence would ventnrc to iu- 9ure a. woman running such risks. Ahnosb in proportion to h«r abilities is Iier peril^, because in the same proportion is her confi- ■ dence in herself. I admire lady Julia's ta- lents more than you do, because I know them better; aud, farther still, her amiable disposition) her precarious situiition, he» youth, her innoceuce and Inexperience, liavo' altogether strongly interested me iu her' fete; and yet I cannot, Vivian, as your friend, recommend her to you as a wife." , " I am not thinliiug of her as a M'ife," said Viviaa : " I have not had time to think of her at all, yet. But you said, just now^i | that, in good hands, she might be mado every tltingj that is good and fjreat. Why , I am VIVIAN. ' not by n hasham\, instead of a govemesfti I and would not >-ou caJI mme good hands?" I " Good, bnt not steady — not at all the I husband fit to {^uide such a wcunun. He must be a man not only of superior sense, , but of sujierior strength of mind," Vivian was piqiied by this rccuirk, nnlagu«;d him: he went abroad for aiuusement, and found dis!iipation. Thus, by licr unaccommodating- temper, and the obstinacy of her manifold ■rirtacs, she succeeded in alienating the af- fections of her husband. In despair, be one- day exclaiilied — J *I« VIVTAN. " Ah ijae de Tcrtus vous me failea hair, and, repelled by virtee in this imgraciouB form, he flew to more attractive vice. Find- ing that he conld not baA-e any comfort or solace in the society of his wife, he sought consolation in the company €>f a miatreas.. Lady Glistonbnry had, hi the meantime^ Ber consolation in being a pattern wife ; an# in hearing, that, at card tables, it was nni— Tcrsally said, that lord filistonbiiry vnis the- worst of basbands, and that her lad^shij»* was extremely to be pitied'. In process o^ time, lord Glistonbnry was driven to bis home again, by the united toiinents of a virago mis- tress and the gont. It was at this period, that he formed the notion of being at once a politi- cal leader and a Marcenas ; and it wag at this- period, that he became acqnainted with lloth" his daughter!-, and determined, that his Jnliv should never resemble the lady Sarah. He- saw his own genius in Julia; ami he re-J solved, as ho said, to give her fair play, anrf to make her one of the wonders of the age;- After some months' counteraction and al- tercation, lord Glistonbnry, with a high* hand, took his daugliter from under the* control of miss Strictland ; aiHl, in- fpite oft r fpite OR TIVTAN. 213 stfl the representations, pro]jlie(;ies, and de- nimciatioiis of her mother, consigned Julia 4o the care of a ^veniess aftt-r his own heart — a miss Batemani or, as he called ier, The Rosamunda . From the Bioiiicnt this lady was introduced into the family, there was an irreconcileahle breach between the. husband and -wife. Lady Glistonbury was perfectly in the right in ber dread of snch a governess as miss Batcnian for her daugh- ter; but she did not take the means to pre- vent the evil: liei- remonstrances were too acrimonious; l>er objections too abscdute; she made no distinction between the use and alwse of reason and literature. Her ladyship was only pirtially and accidentally right ; right in point of fact, bat wrong iii die general principle ; for she objected to miss Batenian, as being of the class of literary iromen ; to her real faults, her inordinate lov? ofadmiration and romantic imprudence, lady Glistonbury did not object, because she did not at first know them; and, when she dld^ she considered them but as necessary conse-* qneof es of the cultivation and enlargement nf miss Bafeman's vnderstanding. " No wonderl" her ladyship would say; " i knew tU VIVIAN. it siQstljc so; I knew it could iiot be otlier- wise. AH those clcTcr women, as they are called, are the same. This comes of litera- ture and of literary ladies." Thus uioriilizing in private with miss Strictland and her own sniiill party, lady Clistonbury appeared sileut and passive be- fore her husband and his adherents. After prophesying how it all must end in the ruin of her daughter Julia, site declared, that she would never S]>eak on this subject again : she showed herself ready, witli nuitemal re- signation, and in silent obduracy, to wit- ness the completion of the sacrifice of her devoted child. Lord Clistonbury was cjuite satisfled widi having silenced opposition. His new go- verness, cstablifhed in her office, and with ftill and unlimited powers, went on trium- phant and careless of her charge: she thought of little but displaying her own talents in company. The castle was con- letiuently filled with crowds of aiuatenrs; novels and plays were the order of the day: and a theatre was titted up, (all in ojien de- fiance of poor lady Clistonbury.) The daughter ctjuiinenced her new course of VIVIAN. 215 B^Bcatiou by being taught to laiigb at h«af .soother's prejudices. Such was the state of kflkirs, when Vivian coiunienced his obser- vations; and all this secret history he learnt ly scraps, xad hints, and iunendocs, from ■Kfy particnlar fi-iends of both parties — Htrieuds, who were not troul)led with any of ■Mr. Russell's scruples or discretion. Viviiui's attention was now fixed iipoo lady Julia: he observed, with satisfaction, that, notwithstanding her governess's ex- ample and excitement, lady JuHa did not ^ow any exorbitant desire for geueral ad- miration ; and that her manners were free from coquetry and affectation : she seemed rather to disdain the flattery, and to a-\'oid both the homage and the company of men, who were her inferiors in mental qualiticatians ; «he addrestied her conversation principally to Vivian and his friend Russell ; with them, Hideed, she cooverscd a great deal, with much eagerness and enthusiasm, expressing I -all her opinions without disguise, and showing, on most occasions, more imagl- natioo than reason, and more feeling than judgment. Vivian perceived, that it was Boon suspected, by many of their observers. f fits VIVIAN. and especially hy lady Glistohbury and t^ lady Sunih, that Julm l^d a design upon bij Iteart; but he plainly discerned, that she hi no desig;n whatever to captivate him; and that though she gave him so large a sha^ ■of hw couipanv, it was ivitliout thinking qi him as a lover ; he saw that she conversed ivith him and Mr, Russell, preferably t£ others, because they spoke on subjectsj which interested lier more; and becaust they drew out her brother, of v\hoiii shft was very fond. Her beit^ capable, at so^ early an age, to appreciate Russell's cha* racter and talents; her preferring his solid sense and his plain sincerity to the hrilliV ancy, the J'ax/uon, and even the gallantry of ■all the men, whom her father bad now col*- iected round her ; appeared to A'^ivian the; most unequivocal proof of the snperiority: of her understanding, and of the goodness of her disposition. On various occasion^ he marked with delight the deference she paid to his friend's opinion, and the readi<- ness with which she listened to reason from him — albeit, unused and averse from reason in general. Impatient as she was of con- trol, and confident, both iii her own powers VIVIAN. 217 d io lier in^^tinctive, moral sense, lout which, by the hy, she talked a greiit deal of eloquent nonsense,) yet a word or 11 look from Mr. Kusscll wonld reclaiin her in her highest flifjhts. . Soon after Vivian couimcnted his observations njjon this in- teresting subject, -he saw an instance of what Hussell had told iiim of the ease, with which lady Julia mifiht be e^dwt bv ii man of feease and strength of inind. The tragedy of " Tlie Fair Penitent," CaUsta !>y miss Bateiuan, was represented, with vast applanso, to a brilHaHt audience At the GlistonSuiT theatre. The same play was to be reacted a week afterwards, to a fresh audience — it -was proposed, that Vi- vian shoultl play Lothario, ami that lady Jalia should phiy Ciiiista: miss Bateman ' saw no objection to this proposal : lord Giistonbury niig}it, perhajis, have had the parental prudence to object to his daughter's appearing in public, at lier age, in such a tliaracter, before a mixed audience ; but, unfortunately, lady Glistonliury, bursting troQi her silence at this critical moment, said so much, and in such a prosing and , puritanical manner, not only againat her r ^f$- VIVIAN, daijgbtcr's acting in this play, and in these circumstances, hut against all stage pUtySy jilay Wrights, actors, and actresses what- soever, denouncing and anatliematising them idl indiscriminately; that immediately, lord ClistoiilMiry laughed — miss Bateman toc^ ftre — and it became a trial of power between the contending piirties. Lady Julia, who had but lately e9caj>eti from the irksomeness of her mother's injndicions and minute con- trol, dreaded, aboA-c all things, to be again subjectied, »t ka iDomoiit, what the French call v» pond Ucces; but, ID the mid'A of the buzz of ort even just, opi- nions so resolutely. — And yet, is it a crime to he young? — And is the honour of maia- laining truth to he monopolised by age ? — No, surely I — for Mr. Kussell himself lias not that claim to stand forth, as he so-often •does, in it's defence. — And is it unhecoming for a woman to do that, which is in itself excellent and hononrahle? Oh, y«s! I an- ticipate your answer; you like retiring, rather than iotrepid sense in our aex.-'— I recollect the line yon once qnoted: • There is no woman, where tbere'a no reseire* How I wish that I liad those reserved mtmners^t of which yon approve! — If you think, tfaatf I ought not to act Calieta ; if yon think, tfaaCi I had better not appear on the stage at all^ «nly say so! — ^All I ask is your opinion; thi a<{vaiitage of your judgment — And you see, Mr. Vivian, how difficult it is to obtain it! But his friend, probably, never ftlt tins difficnlty' " Widi a degree of sober composure, winch almost provoked Vivian, Mr. Russeil an- iwered this animated lady. And with a^ iincerity, which, though politely showD,. Vivian thougbt severe and almost cmel,. RusseU acknowledged, that her ladyship- bad anticipated some, but not all of his ob- jections. He represented, that she had failed Sn becoming respect to her mother, in thtis fjublicly attacking and opposing- her- Wpi-- "iions, even supposing them to be ill fonnded — He d^lared, that, as to the case in dis- cussion, he was entirely of lady Gliston- 'bury's opinion, that it would be unfit. and injurious to a young lady to exhibit herself, even on a private stage, in the character in which it had been proposed that lady Julia should apjicar. He explained, with as ^uch delicacy as he could, the censures Tchich a young woman might incur, and the "dangerB to which private theatricals may 'lead, where the company is so little select aoe vlvian. «s it was at this tizoe at the Glistontnir^ WliilstRuseellspokt', Vivian wjischarmad with tile manner in which lady Jnlia lis- tened : he thought her conntcnance en- ehantingly hcautiful, alternately eoCtened an it wa« by the expression of gemiine humility, itnd rsdifliit with cnndonr and gratitude. Site «mhK' uo reply ; hut immediately went to her ino'hcr, and, in the inoRt engaging manner, *;kiunvledged,thatshehadbecn wrong; and iMuluretl, that she was convinced it would be improper for her to act the charafter she had proposed. Witli that cold haughtiness of ittien, the most repulsive to a warm and ge- neiim* niindi the mother turned to her ' daughter, anf the ^irest occugiQiis of couiinaing a. };(kuag ^nd c^udid niiiid in pi-udeiit and ex- cellent dispoeitioiis. After intmbling bcF* Self, iq vain, Ijefore a, matlier, this poor yQWMg Iqdy waa now to withstand a father'i reproaches ; and, after the inexorable niisft ^trictlaad, sho was to encounter the exas~ pcratcd miss Bateinan. Whether the Gop* jpo tciroui'3 qf oqe gpvei'fiess, or the fury pi^;{>iu^s «f the Qther, wet^ tuost ti>nntdable» it was difficult to decides Miss Batejuaa bad wvittcu aH epilogtie for lady Julia, to recite i\\ tlie character uf Cali^ta ; sud, H'itH tlte cumbijied iri'itabUity vf authoress and governess she was enraged at the idea of ter pupil's declining to repeat these fa- vourite liuts. Lord (Jiistoubary cared not for the lilies; but, considering his own au- thority to b? iiwpeiirlied by his daughter's resistance, he treated Ids Julia as a traitor lo I^is cause, aftd a rebel to his party. It was in vain, tha,t Mr. Kuss«ll eudeavouced ta fes^son with his lordship : there was notluBg %iM. l«v'4siup vndefstpod so UUle, or halted so VIVIAN. 427 niDcJbj as rea£OD : he looked npon it, indeed, as no afiroDt to his understand iiig;, that any ooe shotdd talk of reason to him ; for boi considered his tact, npon all subjects, as iu- fiillible, aud, M his lordship said to Mr. , RaHell — " Sir, — when a gentleman or a noble- TOfOt has made up hi'; opinions, H'hat is the Ute of reasoning- with him, since that is ouly saying, in other words, that your reason is right, and his wrong, which is an insult to a rational being's understanding, that no maa of any talent would willingly re- ceive, and which, I conceive, no man of any politeness would willingly oftei-. Be- sides that, really, a memlMT of either house," added his lordship, with a snpertilionsly facetioDS smile, "realty, a member of either house has such a surfeit of debating, in fiis' coDDtry's service, that, upon hononr, sir, I think he may, duririf^ a recess, he anowed' an exemption from all arguments and rea- »oiu»g wbatsoeTer — nriles emeritus, sirl^- Yott, who are a scholar, umierstand the force ol' that apology ; and, at all events, I will huv« my (Jaughter Julia obey me, and p)iiy- Cwlieta — meo peric-clo." "j^8 VIVIAN. Russell had ho right to interfere farther ; but lady Julia was resolute in declining to play Calista ; and Vivian admired the spirit aud steadiness of her resistance to the , solicitations and the flattery, with which she was assailed by the numerous hangers on of the family, and by the amateurs assem- bled at Glistonhury. Russell, who knew the warmth of her temper, however, dreaded, that she should pass the hounds of propriety in the contest with her father and iier go- verness ; and he almost repented having- given any advice up«n the subject. The-- contest, happily, terminated in lord Glis- tonbury's having a violent fit of the gout,.. ' which, as the newspapers informed the puh — lie, " terminated, for the season, the Christ- - mas hospitalities and theatrical festivities, at Glistonhury Castle !" ' Whilst his lordship suffered this fit o^)\ tortare, his daughter Julia attended hinu i with so much patience and affection, that he-: ' forgave her for not being willing to be Calis-t . ta ; and, upon his recovery, he announced td- miss Bateman, that it was his wdl and pleaP-. sure, that his daughter Julia should do as/ ! she liked ofl this point, hut that he desired VIVIAN. 229 k to-be understood, that this was no conces- sion to lady Glistonbury'a prejudices, but an- act of his own pure grace; To celebrate bis recovery, bis lordship' ■determined to g^ve a ball ; and miss Bate- man persaaded him to make it & fancy ball. In this family, unibrtunately, every- occnr- rence, even every proposal of amusemeat, became a snbject of disi)ute, and a source of. misery. Lady Glistonbury, as soon as her lord annomiced hia intention of giving thi? fancy, ball, declined taking the direction of^ an entertainment,- which approached, she said, too near tothe nature of a masquerade, . lo meet hec ideas of propriety. Lord Glis— ■ tonbury laugbedi and tried the powers of'" ridicnle and. wit : . — " Baton th'-imptusiveice, the lightnings play'd."" — ^To reason; also, lord Glistonbnry had'noTUr recourse; and, forgetfal of his late abjura- tion' of. it's authority, complained, that it^ was a very strange thing, that it was impos- sible to bring lady Glistonbury ever to listen', to reason on any one subject — even on a' point of taste. The lady's cool obstinacy was fiilly a match for her lord's petulance: to all- be could urge, she repeated, that^ ' «90 VIVIAN. " such entcrlainnients did not meet her idea4 of propriety." Her ladyship, lady Sarah, and miss Stilctlnnd, roaseqTientty declare^ it to be their resolntion, " to appear in their own proper characters, and their own pro- i per dresses, and no othtTS." These three rigid seceders excepted, ail the world at GUstonbury Ca.stle, and within it's sphere of attraction, were occupied with preparations for this ball. Miss Batetnan was quite in her element, flattered and flat- tering, coDsiitting and consnlted, in the midst of novels, plays and poetry, print» and pictures, searching for apjiropriate cha- racters and dresses . This preceptress) seemed to think and to expect, that others) should deem her office of governess raerelw A subordinate part of her business : she con- sidered her having accepted of the superia- tendance )rf the education of lady JbIIa Litdlmcst, as a prodigious condescension oi%. her part, and a derogation from her rank, and pretensions in the literary and fiishion- able world ; — a peculiar and sentimental fa- vour to lord Glistonbury, trf' which his lofd* ship was bounds in hononr, to show bit Knasj by treating her us, a member of his. VIVIAN. 23 1 faiuily, not only with disthignishetl polite- ness, but by dej'err'mg to her opinicm in all tilings, so as to prove to ber satisfaction, tliat she wus coiisidereii only as a friend, aod not at all as a governess. Thus she was raised ns muth above that station in the fa- mily, in which she could be nsefnl, as tjover- QQsses, in other bonses, have been sometimes depressed below their proper rank. Upon this, as upon all occasions, miss Bateman was the first person to be tlioiight of — her character and her dress were the primary pQlBts to be determined ; and they were poiQts of DO easy decision, she having pro~ posed for herself no less than five charac- ters — the foir Rosamond — Joan of Arc — Cleopatra — Sigismuoda — and Circe. Af- ter minute eoosideration o^ tlie dresses, which, at », fancy ball, were to constitute tltese characters, fair Rosamond was re- jected, " becaustj the old Englisli dresg tuoffled Bp the person too nmch -, Joan of Arc voold find her armour inconvenient for danciug ; Cleopatra's diadem antl royal purple would certainly be truly becoming, bat tben, ber regal length of train was a» iaad]iiis6ibic ta a dancing dress, as Joan of S52 . VIVIAN. Arc's armour." Between SlgismBnda and' Girce, miss Bateman's choice long vibrated. The Spanish and the Grecian costame had' each it's' claims onher favour; for she wa*- assnied they both became her remarkably.- Vivian- was admitted to the consultation ;- he was informed, that there mnst be both'' a Circe and a Sigisnnmda ; and that Iad^'~ Julia was to take whichever of the two cha-*- racters miss Bateman declined, lading; the tleUberatbn,. lady Julia, whispered : t»i Vivian; *' For mercy's sake! contrive, that I'mayr" not: be doomed to be Circe ; for Circe, is no* ' better than - — Ciiliata." Vivian was charmed with her ladyship's- delicacy and discretion: he immediately deJ- cided her governess, by pointing out the"* beautiful headdress of Flaxman's Circej, and observing, that miss Bateman's haipi' (which was a wig) might easily be arranged/j so as ta produce the same effect. Lady Ju-- lia rewarded Vivian for this able and snc*- cessful manceovrej hy one of her sweetest r smiles. Her smiles bad now powerful in- fluence over his heart. He rebelled against Rusaell's advice to take more time to con-. VIVIAN. 233 sider how far liis character was suited to hers : he was conscious, indeed, that It would be more prudent to wait a httle longer, before he should declare his passion, as lady Julia was so very young and enthu- siastic, and as her education had been so iU jnanaged ; but he argued, that the worse her education, and the more imprudent; the people about her, tbe greater was her merit in conducting herself with discretion, and. in trying to restrain her natural enthusiasm-. Bussell acknowledged this, and gave all due pi-aisc to lady Julia ; yet still, he represented^ • that Vivian had been acquainted with her so .short a time, that he could not be a compe- tent judge of her temper and disposition, even if his judgment ^vere cool; but it was evident, that his passions were now engaged ■warmly in her favour. All that Russell .urged for delay, so far operated, however,. upon Vivian, that he adopted a half mea- sure, and determined to try what chance he migbt have of pleasing her before he should either declare his love to her ladyship, or make Ilia proposal to her father. A favour- able opportunity soon occurred. On tbc 4ay appointed for the taucy ball^, tU^ yPWg , ILL. VIVIAN. lord Lidhnrst, who was to be Taacred, was taken ill of a feverish complaint ; he wns of a very weakly constitntioa, and his friends were much alarmed by his frequent indispo^ sitions. His physicians ordered qniet ; he was confined to his own apartment ; and another Tancred wa& of coiirBe to be sought for: Viv'ian ventnred to offer to assame th« character; and his manner, when he inade this proposal to his fair Sigismunda, thon^k it was intended to be merely polite and gal- lantj wae so much agitated, that she now, for the first time, seemed to perceive tlie etate of his heart. Colouring high, hvt ladyship answered, with hesitation uDnsnal to her, " that she believed — she fancied — that is, she understood from her brother — that he had deputed Mr. Russell to repre- sent Tancred in his place." Vivian was not displeased by this answer; the change of colour, and evident em- barrassment, appeared to him favourabl* omens ; and he thought, that, whether th« embarrassment arose fi-oin nnwillingness to let auv uiau but her brother's tutor, a man domesticated in the f^iily, appear as her Tancred, or whether she was afraid .of of- J VIVIAN. ess kii£ng Mr. Rasse]), by cbaDgin^ tke ar- raDgemeDl her brother had ma/te ; ht either ', case, V^ivian tclt ready, thongh a man id lore, to approve of his mistress's laotiveg. As to the rest, he was certain, that Rnsselt woold declioe the part assigned him: and, i£ Vivian expected, Rassell came, in a few minutes, to resign his preteusiow;, or, mther, to state, that, though Lidharst had proposed it, be had never thought of accepting the honour ; and that he should, iu all proba^ bility, Qot appear at the ball, because he was anxioDS to stay, as much as possible, with lord Lidhurst, whose indisposition, in- creased, instead of abated. Lord Gliston- Wry, after this explanation, came ia high (pirits, and, with much satisfaction ia his Countenance and manner, said he was happy to hear, that his Sigisniunda was to have Mr. Vivian for her Tancred. So far, all was prosperous to our hero's hopes. Bpt, when he saw lady Julia again, which ;was not till dinner time, he perceived an un- fevourable alteration iu her manner — not the timidity or embarrassment of a girl, who is uncertain oWhether she is or is not pleased, or whether she should or shouhl r SSff VIVIAN; not appear to be pleased, by tBe first ap- proaches of a new lover — but there was itt" her manner a decided haughtiness, and an- unusual air of displeasure and reserve.-- Though be Mit beside her, and. diougli, im general, her deligbtiiil conversation ha* been addressed either to him or Mr. RusselJj they were now liOth dejirived of this ho.- nour ; whatever she said, and all she said^, ■was unlike herself, was directed to person* opposite to her, even to the led captain, the' lawyer, and the family parasites, whose' existence. sbe commonly^ seemed- to forget.. She ,ate as well as s})oke in a hnrried man- ner, and as if jn defiance of her feelings.. Whilst the bourses were cbangiiig, she turned towardg Mr. Vivian ; and, after Efci rapid examining glance at his countenance^ she said, in a low voice' — " You miist think me, Mr. Viviauj very unreasonable ancE whimsical — hnt 1- have given op all' thoughts of being Sigismnnda — Will yotf- oblige me so far eis not to appear in the dress of Tancred to night ? — Yon will thuit' spare me all farther difficulty. — You know my mother and sister have declared tbeir- determination not to wear any fancy dressy ^ : — n VIVIAN. 237 ;«nd, tliougli my father is anxioas tliat I ■should, I believe it may be best, that I ^oald, in this instance, follow my own judgment. May I expect that you will ' oblige me ? " I Vivian declared his entire submission to ier ladyship's judgment : and he now was -delighted to be able to forgive her for all seeming caprice ; becanse he thought he saw an amiable motive for her condoct — the wish not to displcTise her mother, and not to excite the jealousy of her sister. The hoar when the ball was to commence arrived ; die room filled with company ; and Vivian, who flattered himself with the plea- sure of dancing all night with lady Julia, as the price of his prompt obedience, looked round the room, in search of his expected partner; hut he searched in vain. He looked to the door at every new entrance — no lady Julia appeared. Circe, indeed, was «v£ry where to be seen and lieard, and an uglier Circe never touched this Earth ; but she looked happily confident in the power of her charms. Whilst she was intent upon fascinating V^ivian, lie was impatiently wait- ing tor a moment's intermission of her volu- I ner voiu- j iHlitjr, tJiat he mi^t ask what had bRomaq ot lady Julia. " Lady Jnlia ? — She's somewhere in £bei; room, 1 suppose. — Oh! no: I remember,, she told me she would go and sit a tjuarter of an hour with her brother. She will soon ] make her appearance, I suppose ; bnt 1 am' so angry with her, for disappointing as alt^ and you in particularj by changing her miod i ahoutSigtsmunda! — Such a capital Tancrcd J as you would have made! and now yon ar«> no character at all ! But then, yon are oiily.'| on a par with certain ladies. Comfort yoar- self with the great Pope's (I fear, too trucj) _, reflection, that — Miss Batemau's eye glanced insolently^i; as she spoke, upon lady Glistonburj's trio, who passed by at tbis instant, all without tancy dresMis. Vivian, shocked by this ill : iM-eediug towards the mistress of the boose,-], offered his arm immediately to lady Gliaton- bury, and conducted her, with lady Sarah and miss Strietland, to their proper places, where, having seated themselves, each in tbe same attitude precisely, they looked 1 V I V I A N. 289 mate like martyrs prrpared for endurance, tlmn like persons in a biill-room. Vtviaik stuid to speak a few words to lady Gliston- bary, and was jnst going; away, when her ladyship, addressing him witb more than iier asiial formality, said — " Mr. Vivian, I see, has not adopted the ^bion of the day ; and, an he is the only gentleman present, whose fancy dress does not proclaim him engaged to some partner equally _/o«C(/m/, I cannot bnt wish that ray danght«r, lady Sarah, should, if she dance at all to night, dance tvith a gentleman, in his own proper character." Vivian, thus called upon, felt compelled to ask the honour of lady Sarah's hand ; but he flattered himself, that, after the first dance, he should have tlone his dnty, and tkat he should be at liberty by the time Julia should make her appearance. Bnt, to his great disappointment, Mr. Russell, ^ho came in just as he had finished the first two dances, informed him, that lady Julia was determined not to appear at the ball, but to stay with her brother, who wished for her company. So poor Vivian found himself doomed to be lady ifOf V 1 V I AN. Sarah*s partner for the remainder of tbi night. It happened, that, as he was hanii^ ing her ladyship to supper, in passing' through an antichamher, where some of th*' neighbours, of inferior rank, had been per* ' mitted to assemhle, to see the show, h*- rance,' in which I was brought i-p, iiiilcfy I am to be allowed to use my understanding, to f(dk)W the dictates of my heart, and to enjoy the liberty of a freebom, rational creature! ** Lady Julia, as she turned her eyes up to Heaven, looked at least a beautiful creiiture. ^^ Mr. Vivian/* continued sh^, " may I hope, that now, when you must be convinced of the inefficacy of any attempt, either to win or to control my affections, you will have the generosity to spare me all unnecessary contest with my father ? If I am driven to oppose my father's commands, and to reject the offer of an establishment, of a con- nexion, which is every thing he desires 248 VIVIAK. 'for mc, it will, withont being of any ad^nn- tage to you, increase my difficulties. It most render him more averse from the only onion, that can make his daughter, happy and it may min the fortunes of the first, in my opinion,of human beings. I Icare it to yon, who have," contimied lady Julia, smiling, " so mnch more practice in these' things than I iuive, to devi-.e some means: of withdrawing yonr suit. — I will request another favour from you — and let my willing- ness to be obliged by you convince you, that I appreciate your chai'acter — I request, that you will not only keep secret all tEat I have said to you ; but that, if accident, or your own penetration, should hereafter dis- cover to you the object of iny afi'ection, you will refrain from making any use of that discovery to my disadvantage. — You see }iow entirely I have thrown myself on your honour and generosity." Vivian assured her, that the appeal was powerful with him ; and that, by mastering his own passions, and sacrificing his feelings to hers, he would endeavour to show his strong desire to secure, at all events, her happiness. 249 " I expected this generosity from yoa, Mr. Vivian," said lady Julta; "and I am glad to find that I was not inistalien. You are not like some pretended lovers, who begin to hate, and attempt to injure, the mo- ment they are disajipointed, or the moment their vauity is wounded. This is one ex- ample more added to my own experience, which convinces me, that tme love is pnre from, vanity — I Wiis a very vain, chiUlLsh- creature, till love cured me of vanity, and of a thousand faults and foihles. How it expands, exalts, eunohles the mind I Happy «r miserable, in my future life, I have at least felt this ' unreproved pleasure!'" " Charming woman ! " exclaimed Vivian, " may you never, as I do, feel the pain of disappointed affection!" " You are tnily generous, Mr. Vivian, to listen to me with indulgence, to wish for mv happiness, whilst I have been wounding your feelings. But, without any impeach- ment of vour sincerity, or yet of your sen- sibility, let ine say, that yours will be only a transient disappointment. Your acquaint- ance with me is but of yesterday, and the slight impression made on your mind will M 5 250 VIVIAN. soon be effaced ; but, upon my mind, there has been time to grave a deep, a fiwt cha* ractery of love, that never, whilst memory holds her seat, can be erased. 1 believe,** said Julia, checking herself, whilst a sud- den blush overspread her countenance — ^^ I am afraid I have said too much, too much for a woman. The fault of my character, I know, I have been told, is the want of what is called reserve." Blushing still more deeply, as she pro-r Tiounced these last words, the colour darting up to her temples, spreading over her neck^ and maiking it's way to the very tips of her fingers — "Now I have done worse," cried she, covering her face with her hands. — But, the next moment, resuming, or trying to resume, her self-possession, she said, — " It itj time that I should retire, now that I have revealed my whole heart to you. It has, perhaps, been imprudently opened, but for that your generosity, sir, is to blame. Had you shown more selfishness, I should as^ Buredly have exerted more prudence, and have treated you with less confidence." Lady Julia quitted him, and Vivian rei- fastiDed in a species of amase, irom which VIVIAN. 251 he could not immediately recover. Her frankness, her magnanimity, her enthusi- asti and down» under the great gateway, saying, that he had a word or two of iiiij>Qrtauce for his private ear. This man had tal^en inucht pains to insinuate himself into Vivian's fa- vour, by the niobt obsequious and olBcions attentions ; tliongh his flattery had at first been disgusting, yet, by persevering in hia show of civility, he had at length inclined Vivian to think, that he was too harsh ioj his first judgment, and to believe, that^, " after all, Maiuwaring was a good, friendly tiellow, though his manner was against him." Mr. Mainwaring, with many professioas-. of regard for Vivian, and with sundry pre- Hiisings, that he hiizarded himself by the- communication, took the liberty of hinting that he guessed, from Mr. Vivian's manner' this morningjthatohstacles had arisen ontha part of a young lady, who should be name- less ; and he should make bold to add, that,, in his private opinion, the s[tid obstacles, would never be reraovedj whilst a certain person remained in the castle, and whilst the young lady aHuded to was allowed to^ spend so inoch ot' her time studying with t her brother when well, or nursing him when sick. Mr. Mainwaring declared, that.' he wa>* perfectly astonished at lord GHs- tonbui-y'sblindnesB or imprudence in keeping- this person in the house after the hints his. lordship had received, and after all the^ proofs, that must or may have fallen withift 1 his cognizance, of the arts of seduction that had I)een employed. Here Vivian inter- i rupted Mr, Mainwaring, to beg, that he- would not keep him longer in suspense by inuendoes, but that he would name dis- ' tinctly the object of his suspicions. This,, however, Mr. Mainwaring begged to be ex- eiised from doing: he would only shake' his head, and smile, and leave people to- their own sagacity and penetration. Vivian warmly answered, that, if Mr. Mainwaring meant Mr. Russell, he was well assured^ tliiit Mr. Mainwaring was utterly mistaken in attributing to him any but the most ho- Hourable conduct. Mr. Mainwaring smiled, and shook his £ead — smiled again, and sighed, and hoped TIVIAN. 255 Mr. Vman was right, and observed, that time would show; and that, at all events,. he trasted Mr. V'lviiiti wonld keep pro- lonndly secret the hint, which his friend- ship had, iadiscreetiy perhaps, hazarded. Scarcely had Mr. Mainwaring retiretl, when captain Pickering met and seized, upon ViviuD, led to the same subject, and gave similar hints, that Russell Has the happy rival,, who had secretly made hiin- Bclf master of lady Julia's heart. Vivian, &ough much astonisbed, finding that these gentlemen agreed in their discoveries, or their sospicions, still defended his friend' Rosseli, and strongly protested, that he- vonld he responsible for his honour with: his life, if it were necessary. The captain, shroggcd bis shoulders, said it was none of his business, that, us Mr. Vivian took it up- so warmly, he should let it drop; for it was by no means his intention to get into Br. qnarrel with Mr. Vivian, for whom he had a particular regard. This said, with all the frankness of a soldier, captain Pickering withdrew, adding, as the clergyman passed at this instant- — "There's a man, who. fould tell you more than any of ns, if he 256 VIVIAN. wonld ; but, snug 's the word with Wicfc- sted ." Vivian, ift great anxiety and much curE- osity, appealed to Mr. Wickstcd : he prOf- tested, that he knew nothing, suspected nor- thing, at least could venture to say nothing p. for these were very delicate family matterav, and every gentleman should, on these occar- sions, make it a principle to see with his. own eyes. — Gradually,. .however, Mr. Wicle- sted let out his opision, and implied inti> nitely more than captain Pickering or Mel Main waring h;id asserted. Vivian still maintained, in the warmest terms, that it was impossible his friend Russell should be to blame: Mr.Wicksted simply pronounced! the word frhnd with a peculiar emph>isi», and, with an inrrediilous smile, lef, him to- his reflections. Thoee reflections were paint- ful; for, though he defended Russell from the attacks of others, yet he had not sufli" cient firmness of mind completely to resist the suggestions of suspicion and jealousy,, particularly when they had been corroho^ rated by so many conmrring testimonies. He had no longer the courage to go inu- mediately to Russell, to tell him of his pro- l media VIVIAN. 257 j)osal forhuly JuUa, or to speak to liim of auy of hi> secret feelings ; but, tHining away fi-om the staircase, that led to Iiis friend's apartment, lie determined to ob- serve Russell with his own eyea before he should decide upun the tnith or "falsehood of the acCnsations, which had been brought Hgaiust him. Alas ! Vivian wa'* no longer in a condition to obf«r\'e with his own eyes ; his imagination was ho perturbed, that be could neither see nor hear any thing, a^ it really was. When be next ^aw Russell and lady Julia together, he wondered at hia blindness in not having sooner perceived their mutual attachment : notwithstanding that lady Julia bad now the strongest mo- tives to suppress every indication of hev ' passion, symptoms of it broke out conti- I nually, the more violent, perhaps, from her ] endeavours to conceal them. He" knew, 1 that !she was passionately in love with Uns- i sel; and that Russell slioiihl not have per- " ceived what every otlier man, even every in- ] (lifterent spectator, had discovered, appeared J incredible. Kussell's calm nuinner and en- tire self-possession somethues provoked Vi- vian, and sometimes quelled lus suspicions; ' IS* V I V I A X. '80iaetiin*8 he loulwdopon tills calmness a* the extreme of art, sometimes as a proof of innocence, which could not be coiintei*- feit. At on« moment, he was so ranch struck with RuBsell's friendly countenance, that, tjuife ashamed of his suspicions, hft was upon the point of speaking openly to hiui ; bvit, nufoi-lnnatelr, these intentions were frustrated hy some slight obstacle. At length, miss Strictlaud, who had lately- been very eonrtcous to Mr. Vivian, took an opportunity of drawing him into one of the recessed windows ; where, with infinitft difficulty in liringing herself to speak on such a subject, after inconceivable bridlings of the head, and contortions of every nmscle of her neck, she insinuated to him her fears, that my lord Glisten bui-y's confidence had been Very ill phiced in lord Lidhurst's tutor; she was aware, that Mr. Hussell had the honour of Mr. Vivian's friendship, but no- thing con}d prevent her from speaking, where she felt it to be so m«ch her duty; and that, as, from the unfortunate circnm* stances in the family, she had no longer any influence over lady .Julia Lidhurst, nor any chauce of being listened to, on such, a viviAK. wyi «il))ect, wkb jjatience bv lord (ilistonbnry, sLe tbongbt tbe best coarse she I'oiild take was to apply to Mr. Russell's friend, xvhty laigbt, possibly, by his interference, prevent the Qtter disgrace and ruin o( oui: briiiicli of a noble familv. Mies Strictland, in all sbe said, hinted not at Viviiio's attachment to lady Jnlia^ and gave him ikj reason to believe, that she was ap]>rised of his having; proposed for faer ladyship : she spoke ivitli much modera- tioD and candour; atu-ilmted all lady Jalia'» errours to the uuprudence of her new go- Terness, miss Bateman ; and miss Strictland now showed a desire not to make, but t» prevent mischief; even the circumlocntion9 imd stiifuess of her halntual pmdery did Sot, on this occasion, seem unbcasonable : tterefore, what she suggested made a great impression on Vivian. He still, however, defended Bussell, and assured- miss Strict- land, that, from the long exjjerience he bad himself bad of his friend's honour, he was Convinced, that no temptatioh conld shake his integrity. Miss Strictland had formed" her opinion on this poiht, she said, and it would be vain to argue against it. Every £60 VIVIAN, new assertion ; the belief of eacli new per^ Bon, who spoke to him on the snhject ; the combination, the coincidence of all their opinions; wronght his nihid to such a height of jealousy, that he was now ab- solutely incapable of nsing his reason. Hs went in search of Rm-sell, but in no fit mood ta speak to him as he ought. Ha looked for him in his own, in lord Lid-" Imrst's apartment, in every sitting room in the castle ; but Mr. Russell was not to be found : at last lady Sarah's maid, who heard him inrjuiriag for Mr. Kussell from the Bervants, told him, " she fancied, that, if he took the trouble to go to the west walk, h«. might find Mr. Russell, as that was a fa- vourite walk of his," Vivian hurrietl thi- ther, with a secret CYpectation of finding' lady Julia with him — there they botli;^ were, in earnest conversation: as he ap-< proached, the trees concealed liim from view ; and Vivian heard his own name re- peated " Stop!" cried Fie, advancing — "Let me not overhear yonr Nccrets — I am not traitor to my friends 1 " A^ he ,spoke,, tig eyes fixed with an ex- VIVIAN. 261 {ires.'iion of concentrated rage upon Russell. Terrified, by Vivian's sudden and strange appearance and address, and still more by le fierce look be cast on Russell, lady Julia started, and uttered a faint scream. With astonisbment, but without losing hia Relf-commaiid, Russell advanced towards Vivian, saying, " You are out of your senses, my dear friend! 1 will not listen to you in your present humour. — Ttike a turn or jtwo with me lo cool yourself — The anger of a ■friend should always lie allowed three minutes grace, a* least" — added Russell, smiling, and endeavouring to draw Vivian away: but Vivian stood iniiuovahlc; Rus- sell's calmness, instead of bringing him to jbis senses, only increased his anger; to his distempered imagination this coolness seemed perfidious dissimulation. " Yon cannot deceive me longer, Mr. Uosselljby all your artV cried he. "Though 1 am the last to open my eyes, I have opened lliem. Why did you pretend to be my jCOQUsellor and friend, when you were my •rival ? — when you kiieiv that you were a ■successful rival? Yes — start and affect astonishment! Ycs~look, if jon can, with ijgl VIVIAN. innoceni surprise npan that lady \ — Say, lliat yon have not betrayed her father's confi- dence! — say, that you have not practised iipoii her unguarded heart! — say, that yon ■do not know, that she loves you to distrac- tion ! " "Oh! Mr. Vivian, what have yon done!" cried lady Julia; — she could say no more, but fell senseless on the ground. — Vivian's Anger was at once sobered by this sight, "What have I done!" repeated he, as they raised her from the ground. " Wr^ch' dishonourable villain that I am! I have betrayed her secret. — But I thought every body knew it! Is it possible, that yo« rfid not know it, Rnssell : " Rnssel! made no reply, hut ran to th* river, which was near them, for some water — Vivian was incapable of afibrding any as- sistance, or even of forming a distinct idea. As soon as lady Julia returned to her senses, Kasscll withdrew ; Vivian threw lum&elf on bis knees before her, and said ftoniething about the \'ioIence of his passion — his sorrow — and her forgiveness.— »- " Mr. Vivian," said lady Julia, turning to him with a niixtuce of despair aod dig- VIVIAN. 363 bltv in her manner, "do not kavtA to rae; do |taot make use of any commonjilace phrases '»^I cannot, at this iiioiii«!iit, forgive yoii^ Yon bare don« me an iiTe|>arable injurv. I con6tIed a secret £0 yon — a secret, known to no human being bnt my father and your- self — you have revealed it, and to whom? Sooner would I have had it proclaimed to the whole world, tbiin to ; for what is the opinion of the whole world to me, compared to his!- Sunk, lost, per- laps, in his esteem! Sir, you have done me, indeed, an irremediable injury! — I tnisted to your Iionoar — your discretion — and you have betrayed, sacrificed me ." '* Vile suspicions ! " cried Vivian, striking his forehead — *' How could I listen to them for a moment!" " Suspicions of Mr. Rassell!" cried Julia, with a look of high indignation — " Suspi- lons of your nobleminded friend I — What iridcedness ! or what weakness ! " ' Weakness ! — miserable weakness ! — the Hidden effect of jealousy ; and conld you know, idy Jolia, by what ineaust by what arts, my 1 was worked up to this insanity! " L^ 364 VIVIAN. " I cannot listen to this now, Mr. Vivimi,' mternipted lady Julia — " my thouffhts cai not fix upon such things, I cannot go bai to the past — What is done, cannot be un- done — What has been said, cannot be un- said. You cannot rccid your words — they were beard — they were understood. — I beg you to leave me, sir, that I may have leisure to think — if possible, to consider what yet remains for me to do. — I have no friend — none, none willing or capable of advising me! — 1 begged of you to leave me, sir ." Vivian could not, at this moment, decide, whether he ought or ought not to tell lady Julia, that her secret was known, or at least suspected, by many individualsof the family. " There's a ser\'ant on the terrace, whai seems to be lotting for ns, said Vivian ; had something of consequence to say — b this man ." " My lady, miss Bateman desired me toj let you know, my lady, tliat there is the ladj Playdels, and the colonelj and sir James, the drawing-room, just come; — and si begs, my lady, you will he pleased to com* k V 1 V I A X. 065 10 them; for inim Bateman's waitins for yon, Bij- Iddy, to repeat tlic Twses, -she had me sar, uiy l»dy." "Go to tbefti. >fr.Vivta« ; I ctOtOdt go.** ' My ladv," persistsd the foolnian, " iny Itord Iiimself brtrgerf you to tome; and he IlKid a]l the gentleraesi have heen loi^ng fet fon tvery rtbete." * RetarH to lay father, tben, attd say thai, Ism ccMiiiHg immediatety ." 'Forced into comjjan)!" tbotjght ladf as she walked slowly towards the fcffuse i " coHJjrelk'd to appear C::^m and gay, when my heart is What a life of dissiimiLition ! How aoworthy of tac, foritted, as I was oncfe proconnced to be, far every thing, that is good &,nd grtatl — But I fffti no longer iiiistrees of tiysclf — no soul left bttt for ortc object. — Why &A t BOt better guard my heart? No! — "Sithcr, why cati I not ft;Ha\^ it's (iic:t4tc;i, tad at once avow nnd justify it's choice?" Viviati interrupted lady Julia's reVeHcby ointing out to her, as ihpy passed aJong !ie terrace, a group of boad.s, in one of (he hack windows of the castle, fbiit scemt'd to L»c VOL. V. N J [,:#66 VIVIAN. wutchiDg them very earnestly. Miss Strict- limd's lace was foremost; half her body was out of the window j and, as she drew bad, they heard her aay -~- " It is not he ! — It i* not he ! " — As they passed another front of the castle, another party seemed to be upon the watch at a staircase* window; — the lawyer, the captain, the clergyman's heade, appeared for a raonieut, and vanished. ' " They seem all to be npon the watch for us," said Vivian. -" Meanness!" tried lady Julia. " Ts watch or to be wiitched, I know not which is most degrading. — But I cannot think they are watching ns ." " My dear lady Julia I — yet let me call you dear this once — my hopes are gone! — even for.your forgiveness, I have no right to hope — hut let mc do yon one pieceof service-^let me put your oi)en temjier on it's guard. You flatter yom-gelf, that tliE secret you confided to me is not known to an.y body living but to your father — 1 have reason to believe, that it fs suspected, if not positively known, by several other persous^ in this castle ."' VIVIAN. 267 '^ Impossible! ^" *' I am certain, too certain, of what I say ." Lady Julia made a sudden stop; and. after a pause, exclaimed — 1 1 it "'Then fafBi\-el hope! and with hope, farewcl iVar! *^ My lady, my lord sent \\w iigain; for my lord's very impatient for yon, my lady," said the same footman^ returning. Lord Glistonbury met them in the hall.— • " Why, Julia ! where have you bcjen all this time ?" He began in an imperious tone; but, seeing Mr. Vivian, his brow grew smooth and his voice good humoured instantly. — "Ha!-«So! So!-Hey! well!— All right! all right! — Good girl I Good girl! — Time for every thing — Hey ! Mr. Vivian ? — ^ One la solitude est charmante!' as Voltaire savj?. —Beg pardon for sending for you ; but in- temiption,*you know, prevents tetes-il-totes, on the stage, from growing tiresome ; and the stage, they say, holds the mirror uj) to nature. — But there's no nature now left to hold the mirtor up to — except in a few odd instances, as in my Julia, here! — — ^Wlterc so fiist, my blushing darling ? — = — -." N 2 '■ I thought yon ■vvished, sfr, thftt I slioultl ^o to lady Pkydel and str Jame? ." " Ay, ay, I sent for you to repeat tbo^ cliarmhig verses for them, lltat I could not clearly remember.-^ Go np! Go np!- — We'll follow you ! — We have a ivord or two to say about something — that's nothing to you." Lord Glistonhury kept Vivian for n fiill bonr in a state of considerable eftihafra^s- ment, talking to him of lady Julia, implying, that she was favourably digi)osed towards him ; but that she had a little pride, that might make her affect the contrary, at f5fst. ■ — Then came a disquisition on pride, vrlth rjuotations and commonplaces ; — then a eulogium, by his lordship, on his lordslip's own knowledge of the human heart, and more es])ecially of that " moving toy-shop," the female heart ; — then anecdotes ilhisf ra- tive, com])risit!g the gitlMntt-feH of fhrffy year?j in various ranks of life, ivith snitaMc bon-mots and embellishments ; — then a little French sentiment, by way of mora}, with some philosopbicjil sixioms, to shot**,l that, though Re bad led snch a gav Kfej; he had been a deep thinker, and that, thtnigH nobody conid have thought, that he had \ VIVIAN. 2t)9 hod tuac for reading, his ^'ciuiif li:ui siip- fiied him, he could not himself rculiy u.>U hoxVf with what other people, w iib the study of years, conld not master; — ;Ul nhLch, Vivisa u'a£ compelled to hear, whilst hi; was the whole time impatient to get away, that he might search for Mr. Russell, with ivhom he was anxious to have an explana- tion. Bnt at last, when lord Glistonbary set him free, he was not nearer to Iiis ohject Mr. Kusseil, he found upon inquirj', had not returned to the castle, nor did he return ^dinner; he sent word, that he was en- gaged to dine with a party of gentlemen, at 8 literary club, in a coantry town nine miles distant. Vivian ?ipent the greatest part of fthe evening in lord Lidhurst's apartment, expecting Russell's return ; but it grew so late, that lord Lidhurst, who was still indis- losed, went to bed : and when Vivian quitted his lordship, he met Russell's ser- vant in the gallery, who said his master had been come in an hour ago — "But, sir," added the man, " ray master won't let yon see him, I am sure ; for he would not let me in, and he said, that, if you asked for him, I ■was to answer, that he could not see you to 270 VIVIAN. night." — Vivian knocked^ in vain, at Rps* sell's door ; he could not gain admission ; so he went reluctantly to bed, detennined to rise very early, that he might see his friend as soon as possible, obtain lii's forgiveness for the past, and ask his advice for the future. 271 . ^ CHAPTER X. Suspense, curiosity, love, jealonsy, remorse, any one of which is enough to keep a person awake all night, by turns agitated poor Vivian so violently, that, for several hours, be could not close his eyes ; but, at last, when quite exhausted, he fell into a ])ro- found sleej). The first image, that clhmo before his mind, when he awoke in the morning, 'was that of lady Jalia ; his next xecollection was of Russell - ' . "Is Mr. Russell up yet ? " said Vivian to bis servant, who was bringing in his boots. ** Up, sir ! Oh yes, hours ago ! — he was o^at day break ! " " OflF!" cried Vivian, starting up in his bed ; " OflF! — Where is he gone ? " " I can't say, sir — Yes, indeed, sir, I beard Mr. RusselFs man say, that his master was going post to the north, to some old uncle, that was taken ill, which he heard about at dinner, from some of those gentle- 272 VIVIAN. men tvhere he dined yesterday j bat I can t say positively. Bnt here's a letter he left for yon with me." " A letter I — Give it me!---Why didn't yoQ give it me sooner ? " " Why really, sir, yon lay so sonnd, ! (lidlt't care ti* waken yflii, eap«cinlly as yo« weie so angry >v'itU jue (ov widteniog y«B the other morning ; ami I wa^ up so lutw mjfwlti (oe, Uft aighi." " Ltav« ne now s m ring wkea I traa* yoa — ." " To C. ViviAK, E^q. ' " I would not se« you, after wfaxt pass8# " y^terday, because I feared, that I should' " Wtt speak to you with temper. — Lest yo* " ejbould misinterpret any thing I have for- " merly said, I must now solemnly assurQV " yoia, that I pever had the sKghtest Bwspi- " cion of the secrft yoa revealed to me, tiHi '* the rnoDJent when it was betrayed by- " year indiscretion. — Still 1 can scarcelyi* " o'edit what appears to mc so improbable i " but, even under this unecrtainty, I think- " it my duty to leave this family. Had tho- " slightest idea of -vchat yon snegcsttd ever "crossed my imaginatioii, 1 should then " have acted as J do now. I say this, not " to JHstify myself, hnt to coiiTinfe yoti, that "what I formerly hinted about reserve of " manners and pmdence was merely a ge- " nerttl refievfion. " For my oivn part, I seem to act ■' HEROICALLY ; biit I iiiust disclaim that " applanse, to which 1 am not entitled. All '' powerful ae the temptation ni\ist appear "to you, dan^roue a« it ranst have been, " in other circumstances, to me, I can- " not clium any merit tor resisting it's in- "fluence. My safety i owe neither to my " own prudoTice nor fortitude. I will be still "more explicit. Lest I should leave any I "dodhts, respecting my feelings and senti- I "ments, which might he jnjurioas to the [ " happiness of one, for whose happiness I I *' am most earnestly and gratefully anxlousj I " I most now, Vivian, impart to yon a se- [ *• cret, which yon are at liberty to confide I " where and when you think necessiiry — I **niy heart is, and has long Ijeen, cn- " gaged. Whilst you were attached to miss I ** Sidney, I endeavom-ed to sfibdiw iny lors «74 VIVIAN. *' for ber ; and every symptom of it was, 1 " hope and believe, suppressed. This de- " claration cannot now give you any pain ; " except so far as it luay, j^erbaps, excite in " your mind some remorse, for having nn- " warrantably, imwoithily, and weakly, snf- " fered yourself to feel suspicions of atme *' friend. Well as I know the infirmity of " your character, and willing as 1 have nl- " ways heen to make allowance for a fanlt, " which 1 thought time and experience " would correct, I was not prepared fortbia " last stroke ; I never thought your weak- " ness of mind wonld have shown itself in " snspicion of your best, your long-tried " friend. — Bvit I am at last convinced, that " your mind is not strong enough for con- *' fidence aud friendship. I pity, but I see, " that I can no longer serve; and 1 feel, " that I can no longer esteem you. Fare- "well Vivian. — May you 6nd a friend, " who will supply to you the place of " H. RuasELL." I Vivian knew Russell's cliaracter too -well 1 to flatter himself, that the hitter part of thW | letter was written in anger, that wouIdJ V I A N. 973 qnkily sTibside ; from the tone ol" the letter lie felt, that Russell waa deeply ofleiideii. Jn the whole conrse of his Hfc, he had de- [leiided on Russell' t> tViendshiji, us a solid blessJDg, of which he could never he tlo- prised by any change of ciicn instances — hy any possible chance in human affairs ; and tioiv, to have lost such a friend hy his own folly, hy his owu weakness, was a misfor- tune, of which he could hardly believe the feality. At the same moment, too, he learned how nobly Russell had behaved to- wards liim in the most trying situation in which the human heart can be placed. Russell's love for Selina Sidney Vivian had never till this instant snspectcd. " Whiit force, what command of mind ! — Wliat m^nanimity ! — What a generous filend he has ever been to me ! ■ — and I " , Poor Vivian, always sinning and always jKuitent, was so much absorbed by sorrow, for the loss of Hnssell's friendship, that he ' tould not, for some time, think even of the interests of his love, or consider the advan- ,tage, which hejnight derive from the absence of his rival, and from that rival's explicit de- L !i70 VIVIAN, elaration, that his a0eL-tious were irreToa^^- engaged. By degrees, these ideas roso clearly to Vivian's view ; his hopes revived. Lady Julia woiUd sco the ahsolnte impoasiii hility of Russell's returning, or of his ac- cepting her afection ; her good sense, he« pride, would in time suhdue this hopeh passion ; and Vivian was generous euonghj or sufficiently in love, to feel, that the valud of her heart would iiot lie diminished, bo^ rather increased, in his opinion, by the sea* sibility she had shown to the talents ai virtues of his friend. — His friend, Vivia^ ventured now to call hira ; for, with tLc hopes of love, the hopes of friendslup " All may yet be well! " said he to bii self. " Russell will forgive me, when hears how I was worked upon by those pw rasites ;md prudish bBsybodies, who infiised their vile suspicions into my mind ; — weali) as it is, 1 will never allow, that it is incapa^ hie of confidence or of friendship. — No^ Russell will retract that harsh sentenccl Wheu he is happy, as, I am sure, 1 ardenthfj! hope he wilt be, in. Selina's love, he nU| Fcstore me to hts favouc. — Without buf fiicndsbip, I conld not be satis6cd nith my- self, or happy in the foil accomplUhmeot of all my other fondest ho]ies." By the tmie that hope had thus revived and renovated our hero's soid ; liy the time, that his views of things had totally changed, and that the colon r of his fiiture destinv had ttuued from black to white — from all ^loom, to all sunshine ; tlie mirmtu hand of the clock had moved with Tinfeeling regn- larity, or, in plain, unroeasnred prose, it was Dftw eleven o'clock, and three times Vivian had been warned, that breakfust was ready. —When he entered the room, the first thing he heard, as nsual, was miss Bateman's Voice, who was declaiming npon some sen- timental point, all in " the h^h sublime of deep absurd." — Viviiin, little interested in this display, and joining neither in the open flattery nor in tlie secret ridJcnle, with which the gentlemen Mits and aniatem's listened to the Rosamunda, looked round for lady Joiia. — " She breakfasts in her own room, this morning," whispered lord Glistonhuri-, before Vivian had even pronotmccd her lady- ship's nftme. 278 VIVIAN. "So!" said Mr. Pickering, "we ba^-ff lost Mr. Russell this itiorning I " " Yes," said lord Glistonhnrv, " he forced to harry awiiy to the north, I find,' to an old sick uncle." " Lord Lidhurst, I'm afraid, will break bis heart tor want of him," cried the lawyer, in a tone, that might pass either for earnest, or irony, according to the fancy of the in-' terpreter. " Lord Lidhnrst, did yoti say r " cried the' c^tain " Are you sure you meant lordi LidhursL ? I don't apprehend, that a young nobleman ever broke his heart after hia tutor. But I was going to remark " What farther the captain was going to remark can never be known to the world j for lord Glistoubury so startled iiim by the loud, and rather angi-y tone, in which he called for the cream, which stood with the captain, that all his few ideas were put to flight. Mr. Pickering, who noticed lord Glistonbury's displeasure, now resumed the conversation about Mr. Russell in a new tone; aad the lawyer and he joined in a eulogy upon that gentleman. Lord Glistou- VIVIAN. 279 bnry said not a word» but looked embar- rassed. Miss Strictland cleared ber throat several times, and looked intiiiitcly more rigid and mysterious tbau \isnal. Lady Glistonbury and lady Sarah, ditto — ditto. Almost every body, except such visitors as were strangers at the castle, perceived, that there was something extraordinary going on in the family ; and the gloom and con- straint spread so, that, towards the close of 'jieakfast, nothing was uttered by prudent people, but awkward sentences abont the Weather — the wind — and the likelihood of there being a mail from the continent. Still, through all this, regardless and un- knowing of it all, the Rosainunda talked on, liappily abstracted, egotistically secured from the pains of sympathy, or of curiosity, by the sJl-sufficient power of vanity. , Eveu her patron, lord GUstonbury, was at last provoked and disgusted. He was beard, under his breath, to ]n-ononnce a contemptu- ous Pshaw 1 and, as he rose from the brcidci fast table, he whispered to Vivian — " There's a woman^ now, who thinks of no- thingliving bnt herself!.— All talkee talkie I jia|9-be "weaTyiOfJier.,— r-7-Crt-ntk-; r T^^ 480' VIVIAN. Bjen," tontmued his lordship, " IVe lettera( to write tliis moniiug. Yoal! ride—* you'll walk — you're for the biUiard-rooiDj I' suppose. Mr. Vivian, I shall fjod yotlr LD my study, I hope, an hour hente ; buty- first, I have a little busiuess to aettle .*■ With evident emharraasment, lord GHston*. bury retired. Lady Glistoiibnry, lady Sarah, and luiss Strictland, each sighed, then, witb- lo<^i5 ot" intelligence, rose and retired. Thtf company separated soon after wai-ds, andp. went to ride, to walk, or to the billiard-' room, and Vivian to the study, to w;iit theroi for lord Glistoiibory, and to meditate upo^ what might be the nature of his lordshij/S business. As Vivian crossed the gallerv» the door of lady Glistonbury's dressiug- rootn opened, and wiis ttbut again instauta-: neously by miss Strictland ; but not before he saw lady Jnlia kneeling at her father's feet, whilst lady Glistonbury and lady Sarab were standing, like statues, on each side of' his lordship. Vivian waited a fiill honr- afterwards, in tedious suspense in the study. At last, be heard doors open and footsteps, and he judged that the femily council had broken np ; be laid do^ra a hooky of wjiich^^ VIVIAN. 5!8 liad read the same page w»r sU tiioes Without auy one of tUts words it ron- tained haviiig conveyed a siiigU; idea to ilis Blind. Lord Gliatoubury cajne in, wItU l^aper; aud imrcliuieuts in bis bauds. " IVJr. Viviai), I luii uiViud you liHve beea ■^siutiHg for me — I have a thousand par- cloas to ask — I rctdly could not cudic any saoner --^ I wisbed to sjwak to you — Woa't ■>eu sit down? — We brtd bettur ^^it dowu cjijietly — Tlicre'a uo soit of burry ." Uta loidbbip, bowevtfr, secmtid to be in ^eat agitatixm of spirits ; and Vivian waa convioced, tbat bis miod must be interested in an extraordinary loanjovr, because he did -not, as was his nsual practice, digress to fifty impertinent episodes before be came to the point. He only blew his nose Eundry times ; and tben at once said — - " I wiib to speak to you, Mr. Vivian, about tke proposal you did nie tlie lieaonr to make for my dangbtar Julia. Mr. Main- wariog, my lawyer, tells lue, that you pit yom rent roll and tbese piipers into bi^ kuids. Every thing very biindsome on your part — But ditKculties have occurred on om"s — verj' extraordinary dithcidties — n IF- VIVIAN. Julia, 1 unilerstand, has hinted to yon, 'sir, the nature of those difticulties Ob! Mr:- Vivian," said lord Glistonbury, suddenly^ quitting the constrained Toice iu which hi# s])oke, and gi^■ing way to his natural feeHi ings — " YoQ are a man of hononr and feeling, and a father may trast you!—' Here's my girl ! — a charming girl she is j> hut knowing nothing of the world, self- willed, romantic, open hearted, impmdenl beyond conception — Do not listen to any* of the foolish things she says to yoa, You are a man of sense ; yoa love her ; aoi^ you are every way suited to her — it is thai first wish of my heart, I tell you frankly, see her your wife — Then do not let hen childish folly persuade you, that her affecA tioos are engaged — doo't listen to any sucfat stuff — We all know what the first loves a$ i^ girl of sixteen must be — But it's our fault my fault, my fault, since thejl will have it so I care not whose faull it is ; but we have had very improper peoph about her — very I — very! — But all in^ be well yet, if you, sir, will be steady, asd save her, save her from herself- farther suggest -" [ lann VIVIAN. j,s;j Lord Glistonbury was going rm, proljMbly, to have weakened, by aiiiplification, the ef- fect of what he had siiid, when lady Jalin entered the room ; and, advandnf^ with dignitied determination of manner said — " I have your commands, father, that I should see Mr, Vivian again — I obey ." " That is right — that is my darling Jn- Ua ; I always knew she would justify my bigh opinion of her." Lord (ilistonbiiry at- tempted to draw her towards him, fondly; bnt, with an miiiltered manner, tliat seemed "^As if she suppressed strong emotion, she an- swered — " I do not deserve your caresses, father; do not oppress me with praise, that I can- not merit— — I wish to speak to Mr. Vi- Tian without control, and without wit- ness." Lord Glistonbury rose ; and, growing red, and almost inarticulate with anger, ex- claimed — " Remember, Julia! Remember, lady Julia Lidimrst! that, if you say what you said you would say, and what I said you should not say — I — lord Glistonbury, your father— I, as well as all the rest of your fa- ** I am well aware «f tkat," re^jied Julia, growing (i>iitG pule, yet nil changing tlie tletennioatiun of her cp' nance, or abating any thing from the nity of her manner — " I am well a' that, on what 1 am about to do, def my having, or my ceasing from this mo to have, fortane, friends, aud a falser — Lord Glistonbuiy stood still for a Dient, fixing his eyes upon her, as : wDuM have read her soul ; but, wil seeking to elude IiIb inquiry, her co nance seemed to ofier itaelf to his pen tion. " By Heaven 1 there is no understai this girl!" cried his lordship. "Mr rian. I tniRt lip.r to vmir boiioiir — la IVIAK. 285 anrf looking at Vivian, so as to Mop him ?liorf as lie upi)roached, ftnd to disconcert lilni in the commencement of a passionate speech — "And I, too, sir, ttnst to your honour, whilst ! deprecate yrmr love. — Im- Itradentas I tras, in the fivst coiiMeiice I reposed in jtni, and niucli iis I have ?uf- ferefl by y6or rashness, I now stand deter- termined to reveal to you another, yet more important, yet more humiliatinj* secret' — Yoo owe nie no gralitt«fc, sir! — I am com- JftUed, hy the circnmBtauces in which I trni placed, cither to deceive of to trnst you. I must either Iiecome your wife, and deceive you most trciichcrously -, or 1 must trust yoa tfttirely, and tell yon why it wonltl bfe ihaincftil, that I should become yonr wife— ^ slianieftil to me and to yon." " To meJ^Impossible!" cried Vivian, bursting into some passionute expressions of love »frd admiration. '* Listftfl to me, sir ; and do not make me Rny of these rash professions, of which you *iH«oon repent. Yoii thiftk yoO ate speaking to the s.ime lady Jtllivi, you saw yislerday — ■Ko!— yon art! speaking to a \-ery different A few hoars have mfldc a terrible 1 J cliangc. — You see before you, sir, who has been, till this day, the darling pride of her father ; ^vho has lived in th lap of luxury ; who has been flattered, ad mired, by almost all who approached her* who had fortune, and rank, and fail prospects in life; and yontli, and spiriti and all the pride of prosperity ; w,ho had^ believe, good dispositions, perhaps some t lents, and, 1 may say, a generous hear who might have been but that is a over — no matter what she might hai been — she is '■ ' A tale Tor ev'ry prating slip.' Fallen 1— fallen! — fallen under the feet < those, who worshipped her! — fallen bcli* the contempt of the contemptible 1 Worse! — worse! — fallen in her own nion — never to rise again ." Latly Julia's voice failed, and she wi iorced to pause. She sunk upon a s and hid her face — for some moments neither saw nor heard ; but at last, raisii her head, she perceived Viviai " Yon are in amazement, sir! — and see you pity me, — but let me beg of yon 1 VIVIAN. as? restrain yoar feelings — my own are as niQcb as 1 can bear. Oh t tb:it 1 could re- Cal a feiT hours of my existence ! — Bnt 1 have not yet been able to teU you what bas passed — My father, my friends, wish to conceal it from yon : hut, whatever I have done, however low I have sunk, I will not deceive, or he an at-complice in deceit. From ray own lips you shall hear all. This morning, at day-break, not being able to sleep, and having some suspicion, that Mr. Russell ^vould leave tlie castle, I rose, and, whilst 1 was dressing, I heard the tramp- ling of horses in the court. I looked out of my window, and saw Mr. Russell's mau saddling his master's horse. I heard Mr. Russell, a moment afterwards, order file servant to take the horses to the great gate, on the north road, and wait for him there, as he intended to walk through the park. I thought these were the last words I should - ever hear him speak — Love took possession of me — I stole softly down the little stair- case, that leads from iny turret to one of tlie back doors, and got out of tlie castle, as I thought, unobserved : I hurried on, and wwted in the great oak wood, through SS8 V 1 V I A N. wbich I knew Mr. Rii%scll wfinld pas* When I saw liim coming nearer and near* to me, I Tponld have given the world I hare teen in my bxvn room again — I hij Myself among the trees -^Ytt, when h4 walked on in reverit', witTiont noticing me, taking me, jirobably, for one of the servantsj I conhl not bear to think, that this was thij last moment I should ever see him, and t. txclaimcd — I know not what — But I know, that, at the scnind of my voice, Mr.' Rtrssell started, and, -never t-an 1 forget thi' look Spftre me the rest! Not-^I will not Spafe mysi'lf — ^I oiffefcd mf heart, my hand,— and they werfe te- ject«d ! ^-^- In my madness, I told hiiti, I fegartled neither wealth, nor rank, not friends, rtor That I would rather live with liiffl, ift obsriTrity, than be tlic greatest prrnccss Upon Earth 1 said this and , rtiofe — and 1 teas refected And, extti ttt this lOoTtiient, iftstead of the iHndictiVe passions, which are said to till the sonl of a woman scotned, t feel admiration for Voui- iloblc friend ; I have not done liim justice; 1 cannot repeat his M'ords, or describo his jnatmer. He j>ers\iaded — by his eloquence. VIVIAN. 289 romjKlIed mc to retnro to this castle. He 1 t(K>k from me all hopej lie destroyed, liy one word, eiII my illusions — he told me, that he io^-es iinotlicr. He has left me to despuir — to disgrace; and yet, I love, esteem, and adnitrc him, above all human Ijeings ! — Admire one, who desjiiscs me ! — Is it possilile? — I know not — but it is so. 1 have mora to ttll you, sir! — As 1 returned to the cattle, I was watched by miss Striclland, How she knew all that bad passed, I cannot divine ; perbajjs it waa li»y means of some spy, who followed me, and Iwhom I did not perceive ; for 1 neither saw ^ -nor heard any thing but my passion. Miss Strictland communicated her discovery im- mediately to my fatlier. i have been these last two Tiours before a family tribunal. — My mother, with a coldness a thousand times worse than my poor father's rage, says, that 1 have only accomplished her prophecies ; that she always knew and told f father, that I should he a disgrace to my •family. — But, no reproaches are equal to . my own; I stand .self-condemned — I fe^l like one awidiened from a dream. ^ A few Is! — a single look from Mr, I r vgW) VIVIAN. how they have altered all niv Tieivs, all m ihoiightsl — Two hours' reflection Tiro hoQi's, did I say?— whole yeafs — a whole «■ istence — ha'\'e passed to me in the last tno htmrs — I Bin a difltrent oeature. — Bot it K too late — too latet — Self-esteem is gone!— happiuess is over, for me, in this world 1—" " Happiness over for yon!" exclnitiKii Vivian, in a tone expressive, of the deep in- terest he felt for lady Julta. — Self-esteeBi 'gone ! — No ! lady Julia ; do not blame yow- self so severely for what has passed! — Blame the circnmstances, in ivhich yon have been placed ; blaine the neglect, the perversity ot others; above all, blame me — bUme my folly — my madness ; yo\ir secret never wonW have been known, if I had not ." " I thank you," interrupted lady Julia- rising from her seat; " biit no consolation CRT! be of any avail. It neither consoles nor jnstifieB me, that others have bera to blame." " Permit me, at least," pnrsued Virian, *' to epeak of my own sentiments for one moment. Permit me to say, lady Jnlia, that the confidence, with which yon hate just honoured me, instead of dimimBbtsg VIVIAN. 291 iaj attachment, has so raised my admiration . ioF voor caudoar aiid inagii^iiuiity, diat no ol»tacles sltall vanquish my roostancy. — I ■jrill wait resi»ef tfiiUy, -iiid, if I can, pati- ■*otly, till time shall have effaced I'rom your /uiad thet>e painful impressions ; I ^hall jieitberask nor accept of tlie interrereiicu or joflaeuce of your father, or of any of your ^ends ; I sliJiU rely solely on Uie operation f your own excellcHt umlcrxtandiug; ami ■liaU hope for luy rctviud froiri your nobl« jteart." " You do not think it possihie" — said lady 'ulia, looking at Vivian with dignitied detcr- oination— '' Yon do not think it possible, ^aiterall that hax passed, after all tlutt J iiavi; told you, that I could so far degrade myself or ^'ou, as to entertain any thoughtfi of b^com- jng youTwife? I spoke to you,as I have done, sir, in the lirst place, to save you from the misery of a vain attachment — I know wIkU that is ; I therefore wish to ])revent otherfi ,fram feeling it. But I bad another motive, ^'hich regarded myself more than you. I .confess I wished that Mr. IlusseH's friend should not utterly despise me — should not ink of uie merely as a i-omantic, silly, per- Xet- S9» VIVIAN. haps forn'ard girl. It has been my nilsfor- trnie, tliat the very desire I felt to improve myself; the best dispositions of my heart; the perception of ^vhat was excellent; the enthusiasm for all that was wise and good", from the circnmstancea in which I was placed, and from the errours of my ednca- tion, operated against me — decided and ac- celerated my ruin Huin?^Yes! is it not ruin for a young woman, like me, of a no- ble family, of high hopes — beloved, respected as I was 1 cannot bear to think of it. Farewel ! Mr. Vivian, You will not see me again. — I shall obtain permission to retire, to live with ii relation in a distant part of the country i where I shall no more be seen or heard of. My fortune will, I hope, be of nse to my sister. ^My poor father ! — I pity him ; he loves me : be loses his daughter for ever; worse than loses her! My mother, too — I pity herl for, though she does not love me, she will suffer for me; she will suffer more even than my father^ j by the disgrace that would be brought upottd ray family, if ever the secret should be f licly known My brother! — Oh! my I loved brother! he knows nothing yet of' i V I V I A N. 'Ji\> this ! — But \«-hy do I grieve yon with my agony of mind? Forget that lady Julia Lidhnrst ever existed! — I wish von that happiness^ which I can never enjoy — I wish yon may deserve and win a heart capable of feeling real love ! — ^Adieu ! " ( €HAFPER XI & Xa. Convinced that all farther pursuit lady Julia Lidharst would be vain, that i could tt;nd only to increase her diflicultie aud his niortiBcation, Vivian saw, that tb hest thing he conld posaihly do waS to leaw Glistonbury. Thus he should relieve till whole family from the emban-assment of hi presence ; iindj by immediate change i scene and of occupation, he had the bes chance of recoveringfrora his own disappoint ment. If lady Julia was to quit the castle, he could have no inducement to stay ; her ladyship remained, bis continuing ii her society would be still more dangerouj to his happiness. Besides, he felt ofiendet with lord Glistonbury, who evidently hae wished to conceal from him the truth ; and without considering what was just or ho- nourable, had endeavoured to seeurcj at al events, an establishment for his daughter, and a connexion for his family. To ths VIVIAN. JiW w^igkt of thebe reasons must lie uilded a desire to see Mr. Rass«Il, and to effect a re- conciliation with hiin. The accnumlated force of all these motives had power to over- come Viviiko's habitnaJ indecision ; bis ser- vant was surprised by an order to bam every tbin^ ready for his jonmey to toirn icmnediately. Whilst his man prepared to ohey, or at least to meditate npon the canse of tbi» unnsnally decided order, our hero -went in quest of lord Glistonbnry, to pay hiH oomplimcnts to his lordship previous to lti> departure. His lordship was in bis darif^h- te^ Julia's dressing-room, and cmild oot be seen: bat presently he came to ViviaH, in great hurry and disti-css of mind. "A sad stroke upon us, Mr. Vivian! — a sad stroke upon ns all I — but most npon me; for she was the child of my expectations 1 hear she has told you every thing — Yon, also, have been very ill used Never was astonishment equal to mine, when I heard miss Strictland's story 1 need not cau- tion you, Mr, Vivian, as to secresy ; yon are a man of honour, and you see the peace of oor whole family is at stake — The girl is goin£ to a relation of ours in Devonshire. ■ sg6 VIVIAN. Shan't stay here — shan't stay here Disgrace to my family She who was my pride — am!, after all, says she will never uiarry ; Very well ! — very well ! 1* shall never see her agEiin, that I am deter- mined «])on. 1 told her, that, if she did not behave witli common sense and pro- priety, in lier hist interview with you, I would give her up — and so I will, and so I do The whole is lady filistoDbnrJ'sr fault — She never managed her rig'btly/ when she was a child — Oh ! I should put you on your guard in one particular — inissi Bateman knows nothing of what has hap- pened — I wish miss Strictland knew as ' little — I hate her. — What business had she' to play the spy upon my daughter? — She' does well to be a ]irude, for she is as ugly-' as sin. — Bnt we are in her power. — She is to so to morrow with Jnlia to Devonshire. — It will make a (]uarrel between me and miss; Bateman — no matter for that ; for now, the.* sooner we get rid of that Rosamunda, too» the better — She talks me dead, and will let no one talk hut herself. — And, between yoa and me, all this could not have happened, if" she had looked after her charge prQi>erly,- VIVIAN. 297 I Not bat what I think miss Strictland was Btill less fit to guide a girl of Julia's genius and disposition. — All was done wrong at first, and I always said so to lady Gliston- bnry. But, if the secret can be kept — and that depends on you, my dear friend — after six months' or a twelvemonth's rustt- ■ cation with our poor- parson iu the country, i you will see how tamed and docile the girl will come back to ns. This is my scheme; but nobody shall know ray whole mind but you. — 1 shall tell her, I will never see her again ; and that will pacify lady Glistonhury, and frighten Julia into siib- L mission. — She says, she'll never marry. ^tuff! Stuff!— You don't believe her! Khat man, who has seen any thing of the f Avorld, ever believes such stuff! " Vivian's servant came into the room, ask his master some question about torses. Going ! — where ? Going ! — when? Going • — how?" cried lord Glistonlmry, as *00» ^^ *^ servant withdrew. " Snrcly you ^re nft going to leave us, Mr. Vivian ? " Vivi^-H explained his reasons— Lord GU&- ztalfory 'Coi'M not allow tUein. axx^ 'Nfcv^^'^y.*' o ii *«§* VIVIAN, erttfeated ami insisted, that he should stay d least a te* dars longer ; forhis going "jost this ftiomeiit would seem qtiite like a bri nji In the ffimily, and wonhl he the lUO* onfriendly nnd crael thing imagmahle;^ Why lord Glistonhiiry ao earneatly pressfttl his sttiy, ]wrhaps, even his lordship Wms^ did riot e^tactly know ; ^or, M-ith all the i of being n person of infinite addi-esa ai depth of design, hia lordship was in reali^ childishly inconsistent; what the Frencft call hicoVise'gtient. On any sithject, grt or sipall, where he once took it into 1 bead, or, as he called it, mnde it a poini, that A thing should be so ot so, M was as peremptory, or, -where he cotHA not hfe peremptory, as anxions, as if were a ttiiilter of life and death. Iff bis views, there was no perspectii^e, no keeping — all objects appeared of etjual mag*» nitiide; and even now, when it might bl conceived, that his whole mind was intent npon a great family misfortune, he, in thK course of a few minutes, betanre as eftgtiP ■ about a mere trifle, as if he had nothing elarf I in tire world to think of. From the ear- I aestness with which lord Olistonbiiry nrgetf him to stay a fe I shull-i do faim Bofuo credit; and I trust my familyi will join in my gratitude. — Julia, my dean lister 1 why do you weep so bitterly ? — If 1 1 had seen yoii come into the room, 1 would* not have spoken of my health — but is it not , better, at all events, to use no disguise, aud- io say the whole truth to onr best friends. — ■■ But I wi!l not, since I see you cauuot beat it ." Lor ■ that miss Strictland was ready. " Mr. Vi- Tian," cried his lordship, "will you hand Julia into the carriage ? Julia, Mr. Vi- vian is offering you bis services. Lid- hurst, have you the key of the great trank?" Vivian, as he attended lady Julia, had sri . mach respect for her feelings, that» thougli he had been waiting with extreme impa- tience for an opportunity to saff a Jew Kwds, yet now be wonld not speak, but handed her aloog the gidlery, down the staircase, and across the great hall, in pro- ■ found silence. — She seemed sensilde of this foibearance : and, turning to bim at a mo- VIVIAN. 305 , Hieot when the.y could not be overlteard, •aid, " It was not irora nnkiodness, Mr. VivUn, I refiised to see too agaio, bnt to convince yon, that my mind is detertnined — If yon have any thing to say, 1 am ready to bear it." " Is there nothing to be hoped fron* time?" — said Vivian — " Yoar father, I know, has hopes, that All 1 ask, is that yon irill not make any rash reBoliirions." " I make none — bnt I tell i/tm, for yoor own sake, not to cherish any vain hope. — My father does not know my mind (■nffi- ciently, therefore be may deceive you; but I will not. 1 thonght, after the manner in which I spoke to yon yesterday, yon would have had too much Etrength of mind to have rendered this repetition of my sen- timents necessary. Attach yourself else- where, as soon as yoii can. — I sincerely wish yonr hairiness. — Miss Strictland is waiting. — Farewell" i She hurried forward to the carriage ; and,' when she was gone, Vivian rejieated that h*. had seen her afjain, as it had only giv«* them both additional and fruitless pain. •' What passed, daring some SQcceeding , set VIVIAN. days, at Glistotihury Castle, be scarcely knew ; no trace remained in his mind of any thing, but the confused noise of people, who hail been talking, laughing, and divert- ing themselves i« a manner, that seemed to- 1 him incomprehensible. He exerted him- self, however, so far as to write to Russell ;_ to implore bis foigiveness, and to solicit 8. rettyu of bis friendship, which, in his pie^ sent state of unhappitiess, was more neces- sary to liim than ever. When be had Enisbed and dispatched tliis letter, he .sunk again into a sort of reckless ^tate, witbout hope or determination, as to his future life. He could not decide, whether he should ga to his mother immediately on leaving Glig- tonbury, or to Mr. Rassell, or (which be knew was the best conrse he could pnrsue)[ attend bis duty in parliament; aad» by plunging at once into public business, change the course of his thoughts, and force his mind to resume it's energy. After altering his determination twenty times^ after giving at least a dozen contradictory orders aliout his journey, his servant at last bad his ultimatum j for London — tbe car- riiige to be at tbe door at ten o'clock tbe VIVIAN. 305 next morning. Every thing was ready at the appointed hoar — Breakfast over, Vivian waited only to pay his tonipliinents to latiy Glistonbury, who had breakfasted iu her own apartment. Lady Sarali, with a man- ner as formal as usual, rose from the break- fast-table, and said she woniri let her mo- ther know, that Mr. Vivian was going. Vivian waited half au hour — an hour — • two hours. Lady Glistonbury did not ap- pear, nor did lady Sarah return. The com- pany had dispersed after the first half honr. Lord Glistonbury began to believe, that the ladies did not mean to make their appear- ance. At length a message came from lady Glistonbury. — " Lady Glistonbury's compliments to Mr. Vivian, her ladyship was concerned that it was out of her power to have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Vivian, as she was too much indisposed to leave her room. — She and lady Sarah wished him a very good journey — ." Vivian went up to his ruoui for his gloves, which he missed at the moment when he was going. Whilst he was opening the empty drawers, one after another, in search of the gloves, and, at the same time, calling 30#' VIVIAN, hie servant to find tliem^ lie heard a lotui acrcam front an adjoining apartment. Ho Kstened again — all was sUent ; and he aaj)'- [K>3ecl, that what he had heard was not ai scream : but, at that moment, lady Sarah!* maid flung ogien hie dour, and, running iiE with outstretched arms, threw herself at Vivian's fcet. Hex so-bs and tears prevented his understanding one syllable she said. At last, she articulated intelligibly — " Oh, sir ! don't be so crael to g* — ■ my lady \ — my poor lady ! If ycm go, il| will kill lady Sarah I " " Kill lady Sarah ! — Why ! I saw heir i» perfect heakh this morning at breakfast l"' " Dear, dear air 1 yoe know nothing o£ the matter 1* said the maid, rising, and shotting- the door — '" Yoa don't kno«^ . ■what a way she has been in ever since th» I talk of yoor going — fits spon 6ts ever^ I night, and my lady her mother and I np, \ holding her — and none in the house know-* I ing it but ourselves. — Very well at break- foat ! Loi-d help us 1 sir. — How little yo» | know of what slie has suffered ! — Lord hav» i mercy upon me ! I would not be a lady, to ] be so much in loTe^ and left so, for an^ J VIVIAN. 307' tfitiig^ in the whole lA-crkl. — And my Ia4]» Sarali' keeps every thing- sn to herself ;— if it was not Cor these fits, they wouU) neve# ' iave knowed she eared n& more i'or yoo j ^ioi a stune." " And, probably, you are (jnito mistaken," ■ sfud Vivian ; " and that I have nothing- to do with the yonng lady's iihies3. If she has fits, I ani very sorry for it ; Imt I can't possibly- Certainly yon are tjnite mis- bkat! " " Lord, sir! — mistaken! As if I coHld be mistaken, when I know my lady as well as I' know myself 1 — Why, sir, I know from: the time of the election, when you was giren to her by all the country — ami *o bo nae when we all thmight it wonid be a ttaftch directly — and) the Lord knows wha* |nrt it off! — I say, from that time, h«r heart was set opou, yon. Though she -never- said a word to me, or any one, I knew how it wi», through all her coldness ; and, when sbe waa low, 1 knew always how to raas& lier, by praising of yon — And to be sure^ when yon Wits in Lon'on so moth with U8y all the town said, as all the coontvy did ! afore, that to be sore it was to be a match— '-1 But then that sad affair, with that artfnllest of women, that took you off from all that was good, and away, the Lord knows where, to foreign parts ! — Well ! to be sure, I never shall forget the day you come back sgain to us ! — and the night of the ball ! — and you dancing with my lady, and all so happy ; then, to be sure, all were sarten it was to be immediately And now to go and break my poor lady's heart at the last! — Oh, sir! sir! if you could see her, it would touch a heart of marble \ '* Vivian's astonishment and dismay were 9o great, that he suffered the girl, who was an unpractised creature, to go on speaking without interruption ; the warmth of affec- tion, with which she spoke of her lady, also surprised him ; for, till this instant, he had no idea, that auy one could love lady Saral^ Lidhurst ; and the accounts she gave of th^ lady's su0erings not only touched his coin-i passion, but worked upon his vanity. " This cold, proud young lady, that uevei" loved none before, to think," as her maiJ^ said, " that :jhc should come to such a pass^ as to be in fits iibout him. — And it was her belielj that lady Sarah never would recoi Pp vrviAN: 309 if be weat away out of the rnstle tliis day." The ringing of a bell liad repeatedly been heard, whilst lady Sarah's maid was -peak- ing ; it now rang violently, and her name s called vehemently from tbe adjoining apartment. " I mnst go, I must go ! Oh, sir I one day, for mercy's sake ! stay one ' day longer ! " Vivian, thongh he had been moved by ' this girl's representations, was determined to effect his retreat whilst it was yet in his power; therefore, be ran down stairs, and had gained the hall, wliere he was shaking hands with lord Glistoiiljnry, when my lady ' Glistonbury's own woman came in a great , hurry, to say, that her lady, finding herself , a little better now, and able to see Mr. | Vivian, begged he would be so good, as to walk up to her dressing-room. 1 Vivian, with a heavy heart and slow steps, J obeyed : there was no refusing, no evading soch a request. He summoned all his reso- lution, at the same time saying to himself, as he followed his conductor along the gal- lery, " It is impossible, that I ran ever bie drawn in to marry lady Sarah. — This is a concerted plan, and I shall not be so Treaki as to be the dupe of so gross an artifice ." Ladv Glistonbui7's maid showed him into her hidy's dressing-room and retired, — Lady Gliatonbury was seat«d, and, withont sjieek- -ing, pointed to a chair, which was set oppo- -Mte to her — "So! a preparation for a flcene," tttoi^ht Vivian — He boned, but, still keeping his hat in his hand, did not sit down. " He was extremely happy to hear, itlmt her ladyship found herself something better- — much honoured by her permitting him to pay his respects, and to oSer his grateful acliiiowledgments to her hidyship, before his depaiture from Glistonbury." Her ladyship, still withont sjieaking, pointed to the cliair — Vivian sat down, and looked as if he had " screwed his conrage J to the sticking place," Lady Glistonbiu7,4 had sometimes a little nei-vous trembUngof j her head, which was the only symptom of ] internal agitation, that was ever observable , in Iter ; it was now increased to a degree 1 \^iiich Vivian had never before seen. " Are you in ha&te, sir, to be gone ?" s^4 •lady Glistonbury. , "Notif her4adyi VIVIAN. 311 ^'oriiiin; but otherwise, he had intetided^if ' possible^ to reach tciwn that night," *' I shuU BOt delay jon many miuntes, Mr. Vivian," said her ladysliip. " You -need not be under apprehension, that lady GUstoubnry should seek to detain yoii •loDger than yonr own incliuatiODS induce .you to stay: it- is, therefore, unnecessary to iasDh her Mith any appeanince of haste or impatience," Viviim iostaiitly hiid down his hat, and :pn>tested, " that he was not in the sl^htest ^Asgr&: impatient ; — he should be very un- grateful, as well as \ery ill l>red, if, after the -Diast hospitaMc manner in which he had been received and entertained at Gliston- ■ -bury CiiAtie, he could be in baste to qmt it. , -i*— Ifc WW eotirdy at her ladyship's or- LadyGlistonbury bowed formally — was again silent — the tremhling of her head very great — the rest of her form motion- less. . " I have sent for you, Mr. Vivian," said she, "that I might, before you leave this castle, set yon right on a suliject, which mueh L J ran VIVIAN, concerns me. From the representations ofr a foolish country girl, a maid servant of mjE (laughter lady Sarah Lid hurst's, which I hav» just discovered she has made to you, I had reason to fear, that yon might leave Gliston— bury with very false notions — ." A cry was heard at this moment from tliB. inner apartment, which made Vivian start y but lady Glistonbury, without noticing it^ M'ent on speaking. — " With notions very injurious to my-. daughter Sarah ; who, if I know any thingi-j of her, would rather, if it were so ordained, go out of this world, than condescend to any thing unhecomiiig her sex, her educa- tion, and her family." Vivian, struck with respect tind compas- sion for the mother, -who spoke to him ioj this manner, now was convinced, tliat thera, had been no concerted plan to work upon his mind, that the maid had spoken without ihe knowledge of her lady ; and, the more proudly solicitous lady Glistoiibury sliowed herself, to remove what she railed the false impression from his mind, the more he was t persuaded, that the girl had spoken tb^i VIVIAN. 313 nth. He was much embarrfissed between J good nature ami his dread of becoming fc! sacrifice to his humanity. He i-eplicd, in generitl terms, to lady Glis- ptonburv, that he hiid the highest respect for rfcdy Sarah Lidhnrst, and that no opinion 1 tejiirious to her could be entertained by ' Respect, she must command from all," stud lady Glistonbary — " That, it is out of any man's power to refuse her; as to the rest, she leaves you, and I leave you, sir, to your, own 'conscience ," ,..)f Lady Glistonbury rose, and so did VaTiSfl — He " hoped, that iteither her UdysUip «or lady Sarah had any cause •;",- .He tiesitated; the wortls, to reproach.^: to cam- plain, to he displeased', all came to hi» lips,; but each seemed improper; and, noac other being at hand to convey his meatuD^,. he coutd not finish his seutent-e — so he began another, upon a new construction, with; — , " I should l)e much concerned, if, in ad- dition to all ray other causes of regret, in leaving Glistonbury Castle, I felt, that I had incurred lady Glistouhury's or lady Sa- rah's displea disapprobation." VOL. V. p 91% VIVIAN. ■" *' As to that, sir," said lady GHstonbtiry, " I cannot but have my own opinion of year conduct ; and you can scarcely expect, I apprehend, that a mother, such as I am, slionld not feel some disapprobation of con- duct, which has made her daughter so — — . In short, «ir, yon mast be sensi- ble of what all the world have said — and you are as fully aware, as I can be, of the disadvantage to a young lady of such re- ports ~ of the breaking off of such things Bat I am doomed, and trust 1 shall bear with resignation, to see the ruin of all my hopes — There is my only son dy- ing — I know we are to lose him — His sister, worse than dead — I always foresaw that — But my daughter Sarah ! — this I did not foresee Sir, 1 beg I may not detain i yon — I have the honour to wish you a good | journey, and much happiness ." An attendant came from an inner apart- ment with a message from lady Sarah, who I was worse, and wished to see her mo- ther " Immediately ! — tell her, imme* I diately ! " The servant retnToed with the answer, j Vivian was retiring, but he came 1 ^^^™ VIVIAN. 315 H^ BOW, at that moment, a convulsive ino- Ipan contract lady filistonbury's face ; she made an effort to walk ; but, if Vivian had not supported her instantly, she mnat have &llen. — Slie endeavoured to diseivpage her- jUlf from his assistance, and aguiii itttempted ■^walk. *' For God's sake! lean upon nie, ma- fem!" said Vivian, much ularmed. With s assistance, she readied the door of the berrooui; summoning all tiie retui'Ding (wers of life, she then withdrew' her arm jpimi bis, and, pointing back to the door at l^ich Vivian had entered, she said — " That is your way, sir." — *' Pardon me — I cannot go — I cannot ive yon at this moment," said Vivian. " This is my daughter's apartment, sir," said lady Glistonbury, stopping, and stand- ing still and fixed. Some of the attend- ants within, hearing her ladyship's voice, fipened the door ; lady- Glistonlmrv made an eflbrt to prevent it, bnt tn vain ; the chamber was darkened, but, as the door opened, the wind from an opeti window blew back the curtaiu, und some light fell i^n a canopy bed; where. lady Sarah lay P2 90. VIVIAN. motionless, her eyes closed, and pale-afl death ; one attendant cliafing her temples, another nitjbing her feet : she looked np- just after the door opened, and, raising her head, she saw Vivian — A g:leinn of joy il- lamincd her conntenance, and coloured her cheek. "Sir," repeated iady Clistonbury, "this is my daughter's ." She could articulate no more. She fell across the threshold, struck with palsy. Her daughter sprang from the hed, and, with Vivian's assistance, raised and carried' lady G!i«tonbury to an arm-chair near the open window, drew back the curtain, heggedi Vivian to go for her father, and instantlyl lo dispatch a messenger for medical assisK mice — Vivian sent his own servant, wh« had his horse ready at the door, and he bit the man go as fast as he could. " Then you don't leave Glistonbnry ti day, sir?" said the seiTant. ■ " Do as I order you — Where's lord Gits' m tonbury ? " ■ His lordship, with the newspapers and I letters open in his hand, came up — but theiA VIVIAN. 317 Tian communicated. His lordiship was na- turally humane and good natiired ; and the •hock was greater, perhaps, to him, from the sort of enmity in which he livpd with lady Glistonbury. ' " I dread to go up stairs," said he — " For God's sake ! Vivian, don't leave me in this distress ! — do order your carriage away! Put np Mr.Viviau's carriage," — Lady Sarah's maid came to tell them, that lady Glistonhnry had recovered her ipeech, and that slie had asked, " If Mr.Vi- ▼ian was gone ? " " Do come ap with me," cried lord Glis- tonhnry, " and she will see you are not gone." "Oh I" cried the maid, as she looked ont of the staircase window — " There's his carriage going to the coach-house! — God bless him! Ay, do go in with my lord, sir, — better than all the pliTsicians ! -" " Here's my lord and Mr. Vivian, my lady," said the girl. Then, taming to lady Glistonbury'e woman, she added, in a loud whisper — " Mr, Vivian won't go to day." «|« VIVIAN; Lady Sarah gave her maid some commisi' flionj ivbicb took her out of the room. Lady Sarah, no longer the formal, cold, slow |>er-' sonage, whom Vivian detested, now sceined> to him, and not only seemed, but was, qnita B^ifiereat being, inspired with energy, and qnit'kness, and presence of mind ; she forgot herscit', and her illne3.><, and her prudery^ ami. her iove, and every other consideration^ in i^ie ?ense of her niotlier's danger. Lady UUhtonfanry had but imperfectly recovered her recollection. At one moment she smiled on Vivian, and triett to stretch out her kantl to him, as she saw him standing be- side lady Sarah. But when he approached ladv Gllstonbury, and spoke to her, she^ sremed to have some painful recollection, and, looking round the room, expressed sur- prise and uneasinegs at his being there, Vi- vian retired, and lord Gllstonbury, who was crying hte a child, followed, saying, " Take nrte oat with you — Doctor G ought to be here before now — I'll send for ano- ther physician ! — Very shocking — very shocking — at lady Glistonbury's time of life, too — for she is not sm old woiuau by L VIVIAN. 31S> ■^ meaoa — Lady GHstoiihiiry is eighteen months yoUDger tl»an \ ma ! — Nobody, knows how hoon it may be tlicir own turn ! — . It's very shocking! — If 1 had knowo sho was ill, I wodld have had advice for her sooner. — She is very patieut — too patient — a great deal too patient. — She never will cMnplaiii — never tells what she feels, body or mind — at least never tells tne ; but that nay be my fault, in some measare. — Should be very sorry lady GUstonbury went out of the world with things as they are now hc" tweea ns — Hope to God she will get over this attack 1 — Hey I Mr. Vivian } " Vivian said whatever he could to fortify this hope, and was glad to see lord Gliston- bury show feelings of this sort. The phy- siciaD arrived, and confirmed these hopes by his favourable prognostics. In the conre^ of the day and night, her face, which had been contracted, resumed it's natural ap- pearance ; she recovered the nse of her arm; a certain difficulty of articulation, and thickness of speech, with what the physi- cian called hallucination of mind, and a>- general feebleness of body, were all the apr pareat consequences of this stroke. Sbe r M# VIVIAN. was not herself sensible of the nature of th# attack, or clear in licr ideas of any thing*, that had passed immediately previous to it.' She had only an imperfect recollection of her daughter's illness, and of some huiTjf, abont Mr. Vivian's going away. She wa^ however, well enough to go into her dress-- ing-rooni ; where Vivian went to pay hi* respects to her, with lord Glistonbnry. By nnremitting exertions, and iimisual cheer- fldness, lady Sarah succeeded in quietiii^ Jier mother's confnsed apprehensions ott her account. When ont of lady Glistoni bnry's hearing, all the attendants and th« physicians repeatedly expressed fear, that liidy Sarah wonid overfatigue and injnra.; herself by this extraordinary energy ; htrt her powers of body and mind seemed to risrf with the necessity for exertion ; and, oU this great occasion, she suddenly discovered a warmth and strength of charactei'.trf which no one had ever before discemecj, even the slightest symptoms. " Who wonld have expected this from • Sarah !" whispered lord GUstonlmry to Vi- vian. " Why! her sister did not do more forme, when I was ill ! — I always knew shf VIVIAN. 321 loved her mother, but 1 thought it was in st quiet, conimonplace way — Who knows, but she loves me, too? — or might .'* She came into the room at tliis moment — " Sarah, my dear," said his lordship, " where are my letters, and yesterday's pa- pers, which I never read — I'll see it" there U any thing in them, that can interest your mother." Lord Glistonbury opened the papers ; and the first article of public news was — a dissolution o( parliament confidently ex- pected to take place immediately." — This lunst put an end to Vivian's scheme of ^o- Ing to town to attend his dnty in parlia- .ment — " But, maybe, it is only newspaper information." It was confirmed, howeverj by tdl lord Glistonbury and Vivian's ]>rivate letters. A letter from his mother, whiclL Vivian now, for the first moment, had tim^ ■to peruse, mentioned the dissolution of par- liament as certain ; she named her antho- rity, which could not lie doubted ; and, in conset|uence, she had sent ilown supplies of wine for an election ; ami she said, that she would " be immediately at Castle Xir , liaii, to keep open house and open heart for r iSS VIVIAN, ber son. Thongh not foniisherf," she ob- served, " the castle would snit the befr^ ter all the pnrposes of an election, and sh^ should not feel any irn'onvenience, for hey own part, let the accomtnodations be what Ihey might." Lord Glistonbnry directly proposed aiut insisted upon lady Mary Vivian's makii^ Glistonbury ber bead (jnarters. Vivian ob*- jected : lady Glistonbury's illness was an ostensible, and, he hoped, wonld be a siiflh- cient excnse, for declining the invitatioBi. Bot lord Glistonbnry persisted — '* \a.if Glistonbury, he was snre, would wish it — Nothing wonid be more agreeable to her I* His lordship's looks appealed to lady Sarah; feut lady Sariih was silent ; and, when her father positively retinired her opinion, by adding, "Hey! Sarah r" she rather dia- conraged than pressed the invitation. She said, " that thongh she was persuaded her ntnther would, if she were weU, be happy to have the pk-asnre of seeing lady Mary Vi- viati, yet she could not, in her mother's pre- sent situation, venture to decide how far her health migkt be able to stand any electi bory. Lady Glistonbarv listened, and tried, and seeuif d to understand — bowed to Mr. Vivian and smiled, and said she i-emembered he vras often at Glistonhtiry daring the last election — that she was happy to hear sb« sbonld have thejifei^nre to see lady Mary Vivian. That some people disliked eU'ction times, but, for her part, slie did not, whea she was strong. Indeed, the last election «he recollected whh particular pleasure — she was happy, that lord Glistonbnry's interest was of service to Mr. Vivian — Then " she hoped his canvas to day had been success*- fol ?" — and asked some questions, that showed her mind had become confused, and that she was confounding tlie past with the^ present. Lady Sarah ami Mr. Vivian said a. few words to set her right — she looked first at one, and then at the other, listening; -^and then said, " I understand — God bless you both.'*' Vivian took up his hat, and looked out of the window, to see if his carriage was at the door. " Mr. Vivian mshes you a good morning,, madam," said lady Sarah : "he is going ta Sa6 VIVIAN. Castle Vivmu, to get thii^ ready for Jady Mary's arrival." *' I wish you health and bappiuess, sir,** taid lady GlLstonbary, attempting to rise, whilst some painful reminiscence altered her eonntenanfe. " Pray, rto not stir, don't disturb jtmT~ ■elfj lady Glistoobory — I shall pay my re- spects to your ladysbq) again, as soon as ossihle." , " And pray bring ine good news of tW t election — and how the poll stands to mor- row, Mr. Vivian," added her ladyship, as he- left the room. CUAPTEA XII. 'Who had felt oppre»M^ uiS almost enslaved by his compassion, breathed GQore freely, when he at kist foend him- self ill his carriage, dnTing away from Glistonbnry. — His own castle, and the pro- 'parations for his mother's arrival and for the expected cauvas, occupied hira so mncb §BT the ensuing days, that he had scarcely time to think of lady Jnlia or of lady Sarab — of RnsBell or Selina : he conld neither re- flect on the past, nor anticipate the fiiture y the preaeat, the vul^r present, fiill (rf «p- holsterers, and paperhangers, and l>Qtler9, aad grooms, and tenants, and freeholders, and parasites, prefised upon his attention ■ with importunate claims. It has been said, by a noble and gallant author, that the great, the important buHiuess of a woman's life, is love ; but, «xcej>t in novels, love forms bxit Li small sbare of the various bo- uness of the geaeraUty, cither of men os i 328 VIVIAN. women. The dissolution of parliament took place. — Lady Mary Vivian arrived al- niost as soon as the newspaper, that brought ^ this intelligence: with her came a new set ofthonghts, all centring in the notion of her son's consequMce in the world, and of his happiness — ideas which were too firmly- associated, in her mind, ever to be separated. She. said, that she had regretted his having made such a long stay in the country, duiv- ing the last session, because he had misseiL' opportunities of dl^tinguiuhing himself far-' ther iu parli;imont. The preceding session^ her ladyship had received gratifying conir- jiliments on lier son's talents, and ou the' tigure he had alieadi/ made in public" lifer- she felt her self-love, as well as her aflee-», tion, interested iu his continuing his poli- tical career with spirit and success. "As-) to thepresent elf ction," she observed, " there' ' could be little doubt, that lie would be re- elected with the assistance of the Gliston- bury interest; and," added her ladyships smiling significantly, " I fancy yonr inte- rest is pretty strong iu that quarter. The world has given you, by toms, to lady Julia and lady Sarah Lidhuist ; and I am askecl^ VIVIAN. 529 continually, which of the lady Lidhijrsts yon are in love with. One of these ladies certainly must be my davighter-in-law- ; — •• pray,ifyonknow,einpowermetosaywbith." Lady Mary Vivian spoke but half in earnest, till the extraordinary commotion her words created in her son convinced her, that report had not, now at least, been mistaken. " Next to miss Selina Sidney," continned' JadyMary, — "who,afterherpositivcandlong> persirted in refusal, is quite out of the ques- tion — I have, my dear son, always wished to see yon married to one of the lady Lid- liarsts; and, of course, lady Julia's talents, and beauty, and youth ." Vivian interrupted, and hastily told his mother, that lady Julia Lidhurst was as much out of the question as miss Sidney could, be; for that he had offered himself, ftnd had been refused ; and that he had every reason to believe, that the detennina- tion of his second mistress against him Would he at least as absolute and uncon- iperahle, as that of his fii-st. His mother was in amazement. — That her son could bd refused by lady Julia Lidhurst, appeared a moral and political impossibility, " espc* 9||ft VIVIAN.- ciolly when the desire for a ^onnexion;^- between the families had been so obviou^ on the side of the Glistonburies ! — Wha^" could be the meaning of this ? — Lady Julia, was perhaps under an erroor, aod fancied he. was someway engaged to miss Sidney; or^ perhaps," said lady Mary, who had a readj^ wit for the invention of delicate distresses^ *' perhaps there is some difficuUy about the eldest sister, lady Sarah i for you know, tlwj first winter, you were given to her. — Ay« that must be the case. I will go to GlistoiVr bury to morrow, and I will have lady Julia t<^ mvself for live minutes ; I think I havg some penetration, and I will l<;aow tl^ji tmtt." Lady Mary was again surprised, by heart ing from her son, that lady Julia was not a^ Glistonbmy — that she was gone with h«? brother into Devonshire.— So there was 4 dead silence for some minutes, succeeded by an, exclamation from lady Mary^ "There is some grand secret here — I must know it! " Her ladyship forthwith convr mt" need a close and able cross-examioationj which Vivian stopped, at last, by declaring^ that he was not at Liberty to speak npog the SQb.iect ; he kuew, he said, tbat Lis m(H ther was of too JioiionraUe and generoas a tein}>er to press him farther. Hts mother wfls perfectly honourable ; but, at the same time, extremely curious ; and, though she continually repeated — " I will not ask yoo, another question — I would not, upon any account, lead yon to say a syllable, that coiild betray any confidence reposed in yon, my dear sou" yet she indulged herself in a variety of ingenious conjectures. " I Ieoow it u so " — or, *' I am sure that I have guessed now, but I don't ask you to tell me. ^You do right to deny it." Amongst the variety of her conjectures, lady Mary, dy not find out the truth ; she was pre- posse^ised by the idea, that Russell was at- tached to Selina Sidney — a secret, which her own penetration had discovered, whilst her sou was abroad with Mrs. Wharton, and which sbe thought no mortal liviug knew but herself. Preoccupieii with this notion, Russell was now omitted in all her combinations. His having quitted Gliston-> bury did not create any suspicions of the real cause of his sudden departure ; because UwiTC waa a sufficient reasnu for his going 332 VIVIAN. to the nortli to see his sick relation, and lady Mary was too good a philosopher to as-i* sign two causes for the same event, when shcf' had fonnd one that was adequate to tha' prodnction of the effect. She, therefore, quietly settled it, in her imagination, that" lady Jnlia Lidhurst was going to be married immediately to a certain young nobleman^ who liad been lately at Glistonhury, whilst* they were acting plays. The next day sh** went with Vivian to Glistonhury Castle;^ for, waving all the ceremonials of visiting^! she was anxious to see poor lady Gliston-^ bury, of whose illness she had been apprised,- in general terms, by her son. An impnls^ of curiosity, mixed, perhaps, with motives of regard for her good friend lady Glistonbnry, hastened this visit. They found lady Glis- tonhury much better ; she looked nearly as well, as she had done Iiefore this stroke ; and' she had now recovered her memory, and the full use of her understanding. Vii vian observed, that she and lady Sarah wer* both convinced, by lady Mary Vivian's ca- riosity, that he had given no hint of any' thing, which they did not wish to bff known : and the pleasurable conscious] f his integrity disposed him to he ]>!eased Pith theo). Lord (ilistoiibury, on his side, Iras convinced, that Vi\-ian had behaved ho- lioarably with respect to his daughter Julia; so I all parties were well satisfied with each other. I His lordship answered lady Mary Vivian'i* inquiries after his son and his ddoghter Julia by saying, that miss Strictlaiid had jast returned to Glistonbnry witli rather more favourable accounts of Lord Lidbnrst'a health, and that Julia and he were now at his brother the bishop of •*»*»»'s. Be- tween this brother and my lord Glistonbnry there had never been any great intimacy, their characters and their politics being very diflerent. The moment lady Mary Vivian heard lord Glistonbnry pronounce, with such unusual cordiality, the words — " my brother the bishop," she recollected, that the bishop had a very amiable, accom- plished, and remarkably handsome son; so she arranged directly, in her imagination, that this was the person, to whom lady Julia was engaged. Being now thoroughly convinced, that this last conjecture was justj she thought no more about lady Julia's affairs; but turned her attention to lad]^ r 3S4 VIVIAN. Sarah, whose cold and guarded niannefjj however, resisted her utmoiit penetratiom Disappointed in all her attempts to lead sentiment or love, the conversation, at last} ran wholly upon the approaching electiol^ upon the canvass, and the strength of thf various interests of the county; on all which subjects lady Sarah showed surpri*" ingly exact information. Presently, lorit' Glistonbury took Vivian with him to hU study, to examine some poll-hook, and the^ put into his hands a letter from lady JuliiE Lidhnrst, which had been enclosed in oni to hiniself. " I told you, that I intended to rusticate Julia," said his lordship, " with a poor parson and his wife — relations, distant relations of ours in Devonshire—hut this plan has been defeated by my foolish good brother the bishop. On their journey, they passed close by his palace ; 1 charged miss Strict- land to he incog — but they stayed to rest at the village ; for Lidhorst was fatlgiied ; and some of the bishop's people found them out, and the bishop sent for them, and at last came hirasell. He was so sorry for Lid- hnrst's illness, and, as miss Strictland says. ViVlAN. 3So much cliartued with Julia, wboni he has lot seen since lihe w»s a child, that he ab- solutely took possession of them, and Julia has made her party good with him, for he Tnites me word he cannot part with her — that I must allow her to remain \nth him — and that they will take all possible care of Lidhurst'H health. I believe I mnst yield this point to tbe bisbo}>; for, all together, it looks better, that Jnlia should be at tbe palace, than at the parsonage ; and, though Jny poor brother has not tbe knowledge of the world one could wisb, or that is neces- ■«ary to bring this romantic girl back to reason, yet But I keep yon from read- ing your letter, and I see yon are impatient — Hey? — very natnrall^biit, lam afraid, all in vain — I'll leave yon in peace. At any rate," added lord GHstonbory, " yon know Vvc always stood your firm friend in this business ; and yon know I'm discreet.'* Vivian never felt so grateful for any in- stance of his lordship's friendship and dis- cretion, as for that, which he gave at this moment, by quitting tbe room, and leaving him in peace, to read bis letter. r • -336 CHAPTER XIII. " Before you open this letterj yon wM *' have heaicl, probably, that my uucle, tfie " ))ighop of '*****, has titken me under htl ". protection. I cannot sufficiently regre^ " that I was not a few years, a few months " sooner, blessed with such a Mentor. I " jievcr, till now, knew how much power " kindness has to touch the mind in tht " moment of distress ; nor did 1 ever, till '* now, feel how deeply the eloquence of tniif " piety slides into the heart. This excellent " friend will, I hope, in time, restore nW to " my better self. From the abstraction, th*^ ".selJishnessof passiun, I think I am already " somewhat recovered. After being wholly " itbaorlMid by one sentiment, I begin to feel I " again the influence of other motives, and I " to waken to the returning sense of sodtd I " duty. Among the first objects to which, I " in recovering from tliis trance, or this ' K " fever of the soul, I have ^wer to turn my k J VIVIAN. 337 *' attention^ your liappine^s^ sir^ next to that of my own nearest relations^ I find interests me most. After giving you this assur- ance^ I trust you will believe, that, to en- sure the felicity, or even to restore the '^ health, and preserve the life of any rela- tion or fiiend I have upon Earth, I should not think myself justified in attempting to influence your mind to any thing, which I did not sincerely and firmly be- ** lieve would be for your permanent ad- *^ vantage, as well as for theirs. Under ^^ the solemn faith of this declaration, I ** hope, that you will listen to me with pa- *^ tience and confidence. From all that I '^ have myself seen, and from all that I have ^^ heard of your character, I am convinced, *^ that your wife should be a woman of a " disposition precisely opposite, in many respects, to mine. Your character is liable to vary, according to the situations in which you are placed ; and is subject to "sudden, but transient impressions, from " external circumstances. You have hi- ^^ therto had a friend, who has regulated the " fluctuations of your passions ; now that he ^' is separated from you, how much will you " feel the. loss of his cool and steady yad^ VOL. V. a Hr> VIVIAN, 'nient!— Should you not, tlierefijre, in ' that hoBom friend, a wife, look for a cer- ' taiu firiimess and stability of character, ' capable of resisting, rather than di^o^^d ' to yield, to sudden impnlse ; a character, ' not of enthusiasmj hut of duty; n mind, ' which, instead of increasing, hy example ' and sympathy, any defects of yonr own — ' pardon the expression — should correct or •' compensate tliese hy opposite qualities. ' And CTi]jposing, that, with such sobrkty * and strength of character, as I have de- ' scrihfd, there should be connected a cer- ' tain slowness, formality, and coldness of ' manner, which might not at first be at- ' tractive to a man of your vivacity, let not ' this repel yon : whenonceyonhavelearDetl ' to consider this manner as the conco- * mitant and indication of (jualities essentiiil ' to your happiness, it would, 1 mn per- ' Buaded, become agreeable to you; espe- * cjally as, on nearer observation, you would ' eoon discover, that, bunciith that external i * coldness, under all that snow and ice, ' * l^ere is'an accumnlated and conoenti'ated ' Warmth of affection. " Of this, sir, you must lately bare seen ' ikn eitiHii|plti ID my own family. At th6| VIVIAN. 939 * nftoWeot when qiy poor mother was etnick *with palsy, Ton shw Rty sister'M wieroy ; " and her cliai'acter, probably, then aj^peared *' to you in a new point of view. From " this burst of latent itffection ior a parent, •* yon may form Bome idea what the power of " the passion of love wonhl he in her eoul; " some idea, I say, for I am persuaded, that " none but those, who kuow tier an well as " I do, can form an adequate notion of the ** strength of attachment of which she h *' capable. ^ •* Am I mistaken, Mr. Vivian, in think- ^' ifig, that it would be nfcessnrv to yonr ""* happiness to he beloved both with ardent *** and constant affection? Certainlv. I can- not be mistidien on tbis point. There is another, of wiiich i feel equally certain — "* that yon would he more likely to inspire ,^' a strong attachment in a mind like my '** sister's, than in such u. heart as mine. *'*' Let it not wonnd your pride, or sniv of V." yoor feelings, if I tdl you, that, even if if* my iift'ections were at my own disposal, -** and if no past ciixsmistances prevented the .'"possibility of my thinking of yon (is ii - •• lover, 1 conld not feel the paxsion of Jove ^" for a man of your dispositjon- I'licre ' must be superior strengtb, decisioD, anj ' loftiness of character ; there must be ' something of the moral sublime, to seize ' my imagination, and touch my heart. ' My sister, on the contrary, admires more ' vivacity and generosity of character, and ' would l)e captivated, in a lover, by tboiC ' qualities and accomplishments, for which ' you are eminently distinguished. Certain " of thu excellence of your disposition and ' of yonr principles, and conscious that her * own firmness of mind wonld prevent any ■' danger from the vacillations of your easy '•' temper, she would, as your wife, become " more and more attached to you, even froa " what yon may think yonr defects, becanso " she would teel the continual sense of being " useful and necessary to yonr happiness. " You will be surprised, perhaps, sir, to " bear me reason so coolly for others on ■ " subject, where I have acted S(» rashly for " myself; and yon may feel no incUnatioO " to listen to the advice of one, who li " shown so little prudence in her 01 " affairs; therefore, having stated my res^ *' sons, and suggested my conclusions, I " lea^■c you to apjily them as you tbiiA " jjroper ; iind 1 shall only add, that tht *• accomnlishi ?IAN. 341 accomplishment of my wishes, on this ** suhject, would give me peculiar satisfac- tion. It would relieve my mind from ** part of a weight of self-reproach. I have ** made hoth my parents unhappy. I ** have reason to fear, that the shock my " mother received, hy my means, coutribnted ** much to her late illness. An event, that * would restore my whole family to happl- " ness, must, therefore, he to me the most "desirable upon Earth. I should feel im- " mediate relief and delight, even in the ** hope of contributing to it by any influence * 1 can have over your mind. And, indc- * pendently of the pleasure and pride I " should feel in securing my sister's happi- *' ness and yours, I slio-ild enjoy true satis- — '** faction, sir, in that intimate friendship ^ with you, which only the ties of such near *** relationship could permit or justify. Yon " will accept of this assurance, instead of ** the trite and insulting, because unmeaning ** or unsafe, offer of friendship, which ladies " sometimes make to those who have been ** their lovers. " Julia Lidhukst." ****** Palace." J M VIVIAN.- At tlie firsfreading of tliis ktter, Vlviait* felt notluiig but a rruewal of regret fo*- having lost all chance df obtaining the affectioDS of the person, by whom it was written : on a secouil ptrasal, he was movedf by the earnest expression of her wishes fof his happiness ; and the dtsire to gratify her/ on a point on which she was so utmious, iiv fluenced liini mach more, than any of he#^ arguments. Whatever good sense tlie lett^ contained wa^ loet tipon him ; but all th« sentiment operated with full force ; yet not with sniHcient power to conquer the rejnigw nance he still felt to lady Sarah's person an4 manners. Lord Glistonbnry made do ur- quiries concerning tlie contents of hiff ' daughter Julia's letter ; but, &s far as polite^ ' ness would permit, he examined Vivian's countenance when he returned to the draw^ ' ing-room. Lady Glistonbury's manner wa«' as calm as usnal ; Imt the slight shake of' her head was a sufiieieiit indication of her* internal feelings. Lady Sarah looked pale^' but 9o perfectly composed, that Vivian waa' convinced she, at least, knew nothing of heP sister's letter. So greftt indeed was the oat- H'ard composure, and so immovable was- UHy Sarali. Uiut it jifovqIm^ btdy Mary past wdnrance ; — '* I iwver saw inch a yoang woman as hdy Sarah Lidhurst. She is a stick, a stonei a statue — She has completely satisfied my Blind ou oTie point. I own, that when I fomid lady Juiia was out of the questioa, i did hegin to thiok and wish, that lady iSarah might be my daughter-in-law, bet'aiue ^tHie has really been so carefulty brought up, *nd the connexion with the Glistoubiiry ifcinily is so desirable — Then I had a notion, Ibefore I saw her this morning, that the girl liked you, and might be really Gajtable ©f |ltt!U:hment ; but now, indeedj I am con- vinced of the folly of that notion. She has 1H) feeling — none upon Earth — scarcely Common sense ! She thinks of nothing but JKwshe holds her elbows. The formality and Importance with which she went on cutting ends of worsted, from that frightful ta- jKstry work, whilst I talked of you, quite put me ojit of all manner of patience. — She bas no feeling — none upon Earth ." 1- " Oh ! ma'am," said Vivian, " you do her wyusticc : she certainly has feeling — for her mother." SM VIVIAN. " Ay, for her mother, may be ! a kind of mechanical affection ! " " Btit, ma'am, if you had seen her at the time that mother was struck with jjfllsy 1 " Much to his own surprise, Vivian fonml himself eogaged in a defence, aud almost in a eniogimn upon lady Sarah ; hat the in- justice of his mother's attack, on this jwint, was, he knew, so great, that he could not join ill lady Mary's invective. "Why, my dear Charles!" said she, " do you recollect, on this very road, as vt Were returning from Glistonbury Castle, this time two years, you called lady Sarah & " petrifaction ? " " Yes, ma'am ; because I did not knov her then." "Well, my dear, I must have time t» analyse her more carehilly, and I suppose I shall discover, as you have done, that she if not a petrifaction. — So, then, lady Surah really is to be the woman after all. — I am content, but I absolutely cannot pretend to like her — I like the connexion, however; and the vest is your affair. — Yon haveu't - proposed, yet ? " VIVIAN. 3i5 "Bless me! no, ma'am! God forbid! ■ -How fast yoar imagination goes, my dear mother! — Is there no difference between i saying, that a woman is not a ])etrifaction, and being in love with her ? " " In love ! I never said a word abont being in love — I know that's impossible — I a^ed only if you had proposed for her ? " " Dear ma'am^ no ! " Lady Mary expressed her satisfaction ; .and, perhaps, the injustice, with M'hich she continued, for some days, to asperse lady Sarah Lidhurst, as being unfeeling, served her more, in Vivian's opinion, than any other mode, iu which she could have spoken of her ladyship. Still he felt glad tbat he had not yei proposed. He had not comage either .to recede or advance ; circumstances went on, and carried him along with thera, without bringiag him to any decision. The business of the election proceeded ; every day lord Gliatonhury was with him, or he was at Glistonbury Castle ; every hour he saw more plainly the expectations that were ] formed ; sometimes he felt, that he was in- evitably doomed to fiilfil these, and at other ] times he cherished the hope, that lady Julia | a5 j wonld soon retura Iionie, and thut, by some fortunate revolution, she might yet he his. He hud not now the adTaotage of Haisell's ftnunesa to support hiut m this emergency. Russell's answers to his letters ■were so coolly detenmoed, and he so absolutely declined' in- terfering further in his affairs, that Vivian saw Tio hopes of rcgainiing his fiiendahip, or of profiting by his counsels. Thus was Vivian in all the helplessness and all the horrours of incfecision, whoa an event took place, , which matei-ially changed the face of affaira in the Glistouhary family. ' Just at the time when the accounts of his health were the most favourable, and when his friends were deceived by the most sanguine hopeb of his recovery, lord Lidhurst died. His mother was the only person in the family, who waS prepared for this catJistrophe : they* dreaded to communicate the intelligence to her, lest it should bring on another attack of her dreadful malady ; hot, to their asto- , nishment, she heard it with calm resigna- tion, ■ — said she had long foreseen this cala- mity, and that she submitted to the will of Heaven. After pity for the parents, who lost this auuftble and promising young man> VIVIAN. 347 heir to tills large fortune, iuid to this splen- ilid tiOe, people began to consider what change woald be made in the coiiditiou; of the reit of tlic family. Tite lady LldbnriiU, from being very small forfunt-i, Iiecame heiresses to h large eetato. 'I'lie earldoMi B*'Glistoi>bury wus to devolve to a nephew of lord Glistonbiiry, in tase the ludy Ltd- httrsts should uot marry, or should not have heirs male; hut, in ca^e they should marry, the title was to go to the first son. All these (jrcnmstanc'cs were, of tomse, soou known and talked of in the neighbourhood ; nnd ^auy congratulated Vivian upon the great .act'essioQ of fortune, and upon the liigh ex- pectations of the lady, to whom they sup- posed him engaged. On the first visit, which Viviiin and his .JBothcr paid, after the death of lord L.id- hurst, at Gliatonbnry Castle, they found thei-e a yonng man, very handsome, but pf n dark, reserved conntenance, whose phy- siognomy and manner imnicdiately prepoe- ,us8ed them against him ; ou his part, he 'tacamed to eye tliem with suspicion, and to hb paj'ticularly uneasy, whenever V'iviau cither mentioned the dettiou, or ajiproachecl 54d VIVIAN, lad]^ Sarah. This yonng man was Mr. Lidhiirst, Lord GHstonhury's nephew and heir at law. It was obvious, almost at first, sight, that the nncle disliked the nephew; hnt it was not so easy to perceive, that the' nephew despised the uncle. Mr. Lidhurst^, thoogh youngj was an excellent politician f atid his feelings were always regulated by' bis interests. He had more abilities than lord Glistonbury, less vanity, but iufiaitely more ambition. In lord Glistonbury, am- hition was rather affected, as an au' snit^ to his rank, and proper to increase his coo- seqnence : Mr. Lidhurst's was an earnest inordinate ambition, yet it was silent, cold, and calculating; his pride preyed upon hio). inwardly, but it never hurried him into say- og or doing an extravagant thing. Those, who were not actuated solely by ambitioB, , he always looked upon as fools, and tliose who were, be considered, iu general, as knaves : the one he marked as dupes, the other as rivals. He had been at the bishop of « * * * * *'gj during lord Lidhurst's illnes^ and at the time of his death. Ever since' lady Julia's arrival at the bishop's, he had foreseen the probability of this event, and IV IAN. 349 had, in consequence of the long-siglitedness of his views, endeavoured to make himself agreeable to her. He found this impossible ; but was, however, ea.sily condoled, by hear- ing, that she had resolved never to marry; be only hoped, that she would keep her re- Golution ; and he was now at Glistonbury Castle, in the determination to propose for his other cons:n,Iady Sarah, who woidd, per- haps, equally well secure to him his objects. " Well ! my dear Vivian," said lord Glistonbury, drawing him ai^ide, " how d'y'e relish my nephew, Marraaduke Lidhurst ! — Need not be afraid to speak the truth, for, I tell yon at once, be is no particular fa- vourite here ; not en bonne odeur ; but that's only between you and me. He thinks that I don't know that he considers me as a. shallow fellow, because I haven't my head crammed with a parcel of statistical tables, all the fiscal and financiering stuff, which he has at his calculating fingers' ends ; but, I tiiist, that I am almost as good a politician as he is, and, I'm free to believe, have rather more knowledge of the M'orld — ' In men, not boolts, experienc'tl was my lord ' — S60 VIVIAN. Hey ? Hey, Vivian ? and can see tbroiigk, him, with half an eye, I cao tell hiin. -a Wants to get lady Sarah. — yen, yes; bat/, nevex came near us, till we lost my poor Ixiy — He won't win lady Sarah either, oT ■ I'm much mistiiken — Did you ohserye how jealous he was of you ? — Right ! right ! — he has penetration 1 — Stay, stay! yovr ■don't know Marmadnke yet ! — drwi't know"- ' half his schemes! — How his brow flooded, ■ when we were talking of llie election I I must hint to yoa, he has been sounding me upon that matter ; he has a great mind -to stand for this county — talks of starting at the tirst day of the poll. I told him it eould not do, as I was engaged to yon. He • answered, that, of course, was only a condi- tional promise, in case none of my own re- lations stood. I toQght shy, and he pressed confoundedly. — Gad ! he would put lue in a very awkward predicament,.if he was really to stand ! — for you know what the world •would say, if they saw^ me opposing my own nephew, a rising young man, and not for a relation either — and Manaaduke Lidharst is just your deejj fellow, to plan such a tiiiog and execute it, not caring at what, or VIVIAN. 351 whose expense. — I can tell him, how- ever, I am not a man to be bnllied out of my interest, nor to be outwitted neither. — Stand firm, Vivian, my good friend, and Vi\ stand by you; depend on me! — I only wish ." Here bis lordship paused " Bat I cannot say more to yon now; for here is my precious heir at law coming to bi-eak ap the confederacy, I'll ride over, and see yon to morrow ; — now, let us all be mote, before Marmaduke, our master po- liticiao, as becomes ns — Hey! Vivian 5 Hey?" Notwitlistaoding this sort of jealonsy of Marroadoke, and the bravadoing style iu which lord Glistonbury spoke of him, he spoke to him in a very difterent manner : it was apparent to Vivian, that his lordship was under some awe of his nephew, and that, whilst he cherished this secret dislike, he dreaded coming to any open niptnre with a man, who was, as his lordship appre- hendedj^o well able to make his own party good in the world. Wlien Marmaduke did emerge from that depth of thought, in ■which he generally seemed to be sunk, and when he did condescend to conversej or ra- Sh VIVIAN. ther to speak, his theme was always of per- sons in power, or his Harcasms against those who never would oTjtain it : from any one thing he asserted, it could never be proved, but, from all he said, it might be inferred, that he valued human qualities and talents, merely as they could, or could not, obtain a price in the political market. The powe^' of speaking in public, as it is a means iii' England of acquiring all other species of power, he deemed the first of Heaven's gifts ; and successful parliamentary speakers were the only persons of whom he expressed admiration. As Vivian had spoken, and had been listened to in the house of com- mons, he was in this respect an oliject of Marmadiike Lidhurst's en\'y; but this envy was mitigated by contempt for onr hero's want of perseverance in ambition. "There is that Mr. Vivian of yours," said he to his uncle, whilst Vivian was gone to talk to the ladies — "you'll find he will be but a woman's man, after all — lleavens! with his fluency in public, what I would have done by this time of day ! This poor fellow has no consistency of ambition — no great views — no reach of mind — Put him VIVIAN. S5:j 1|B for a borough, and he would be jnst as *ve\l content, as if he carried the connty — Von'll see he will, after another session or ^wo, cut ont, and retire without a jiensioD, *nd settle down into a mere honest country 'gentleman — He wonld be no connexion to increase the consequence of your family. Lady Sarah Lidhurst would be quite lost with such a nobody! Her ladyship, I am couvioced, has too much discrimination, and values herself too highly, to make such a •mins^ match," Lord Glistonhiiry coughed, and cleared lis throat, and blew his nose, and seemed to snfier extremely, hut chiefly under the re- pression of his usual loquacity. Nothing conid be at once a greater proof of liis re- spect for his nephew's abilities, and of his lordship's dislike to him, than this unna- tnral silence. Mr, Lidhurst's compliments on lady Sarah's discrimination seemed, however, to be premature, and unmerited ; for, during the course of this day, she treated all the vast efforts of her consin Marma- duke's gallantry M'ith haughty neglect, and showed, what she had never before suffered to be visible in her manner, a marked pre- jj ' ^M VIVIAN, ferencc for Mr. Vivian's conversatioD. Th*" ' sort of euialiitiai), which Mr. Lidhurst's ri- valship produced, increased the value of the object ; slie, for whom there was a conten- tion, iraraediiitely became a pme. Vivian was lioth provoked and amused by the al- . ternate contempt and jealousy, which Mr. Lidhurst betrayed ; this gentleman's desuv to keep him out of the Glistonbury fanul^i , and to supplant liim in lady Sarali's favoorj ' piqued him to prove his influence, and de- termined him to maintain his ground. In- sensibly, Vivian's attentions to the lady be- came more vivacious ; and he was vain of showing the ease, taste, and elegance of hit gallantry ; and he was flattered by the idea^ that ail the spectators perceived both it's superiority and it's success. Lady Sarah, whose manners had much improved sine* the departure of miss Strictland, was sa much embeUished by our hero's attentionsj that he thought her quite charming. Ha had been prepared to expect fire under th* ice, hut he was agreeably snrprised by this sudden spring of flowers from beneath the snow. The caiTiage was at the door in the evening, and had waited half an hour, be-- VIVIAN. 055 iore he *-a3 aware iliai it was time to de- part, " You are right, tny dear son I " lady Mary began, the moment ihey were seated m the- Ciirriage — " Vou are qnite right, and t'^as quite wrong about hidy Saiah Lid- inrst; she has feeling, iudeed — strong, feoerons feeling; and she shotvti it at the aroper time — a fine, decided character I — ler manners, to day, so easy, and her conn- Et^ance so aimuated, really she looked (joite landsome, and I think her a charming wo- - What changes love can make ! I^ell, now I am satisfied : this is what I tlways wished — connexion, family, for- tune, every thing — and the very sort of character you require in a wife; the very lersoQ, of all others, that is suited to you." ' If she were hut a little more like her r — or Sjlina Sidney event" — saidVi- , with a aigh. " That very word even — ■ your saying like ISeHua Sidney even — shows, that you have ['Hot ipuch cause for sighing: for you sec li0w quickly the mere fancy in thpse inat- s changes — and you may love lady Sa- [ rah presently, as much as yon loved Pi'fli lady Julia." " Impossible ! ma'am ." " Impossible ! Why! my dear Charles,, yon astoDish me ! for you cannot bat see the views and expectations of all the fa* mily, and of the young lady herself ; am yonr attentions to day were snch, as coiil4! bear bnt one construction." " Were they, ma'am ? — 1 was not awan» of that at the time — that is, I did not meani to engage myself — Good Heavens! snreiy 1 am not engaged ? — Yon know a man ig not bonnd, like a woman, hy a few foolish words ; compliments and gallantry are not BUch serious things with ns men — Men never consider themselves engaged to a wo* man till they make an absolnte proposal. " I know that is a common maxim with young men of the present day, hut I coni sider it as dishonourable and base ; and very sorry should I he to see it adopted hy my son 1" cried lady Mary, indignantly — • " Ask your friend Mr. Russell's opinion oa this point — He long ago told you — I know he did — that, if you had not serioiu^ riviAti. 357 thoughts of lady Sarah Lidhurst, yoD would do very wrong, after all the reports that hare gone abroad, to continue your inti- macy with llie Glistoiibnries, and thas to deceive her imd her whole family — I only appeal to Mr. Russell ; — will you ask your friend Russell's opinion ?" Vivian sighed again deeply for tlie loss of bis friend Russell; but as he could not, without touching upon lady Julia's af^urs, expliiin the cause of the coolness between liini and his friend, he answered only, " that ^n appeal to Mr. Russell was unnecessary, jrhen he had his mother's opinion." Lady ^ary's wish for tlie Glistonbury connexion ^rtified her morality ut this moment, and ^he replied : " Then my decided opinion is, .ihat it would be an immoral and dishonour- able action to break snch a tacit engage- ment as this, which you have voluntarily (Contracted, and which you absolutely could mot break, without destroying the peace and .happiness of a whole family. Even that ._cold lady Glistonbury grew quite warm to day; and you must see the cause. — And, in lady Glistonbury's state of health, who ■« for the conse([uenccs of any f mm VIVIAN. disappointment about her ftivourite datOgfei' ter • — jnst after the loss of her son, too ! — ^' " No more, mother, for Heaven's sake! I see it all — I feel it all — I must marrj lady Sanih, then. — By what fatality am 1 doomed, am I forced to marry a womaHj whom I cannot lore, whose person an^ manners are pecnliarly disagreeable to me — and when I'm half in love with anothw woman ! " *'That would be a shocking thing in- deed," said lady Mary, retracting, and alarmed; for now another train of assocjfb- tions were wakened, and she jndged, not by, her worldly, but by her romantic system.— '*' I am sure, I would not, for the world, nrge you to net agiiinst your feelings. I would not be responsible for such a moT^ rittge, if you are really in love with her sister, and if lady Sarah's^ person and manners are pecuHariy and ahsolntely disa- greeable to you.— I should do a very wicked atition— should destroy my son's happiness and montlF, perhaps, by insisting on sucb a marriHgc. — Heaven forbid!" — (a silence, of a mile and a half long ensued.) — " But, Charles, after all I saw to day, how ca» VIVIAN. 359 clieve, tbal lady Sarah is so disagreeable ■ yooJ" , *' Ma'am, she happened not to lie iibso- ntely disagieesible tu ine to day." " Oh! well! then she may not liappen to c disagreeable to yon to morrow, or the lext day, or cvm- iigain! — And, as to the /ancy for her sister, wlien all ho])e is over, ■you know, loye soon dies of itself." " May be so ; bnt it is not tlead yet, oa'ato.— — I am alraid And yet I wiah t was — for it can only be a torment to me. '•— And I am as well convinced, us ynn are, that it would be better for me to marry Jady SiU'ah — she is certainly very estimable, and all that; and 1 atn very grateful for ifher preference. — Ajid, now she is snch a great hiiiress, she certainly shows generosity ■and constancy, in abiding by this prefer- ^ice. — As yon say, she has a noble mind. — And such a woniiin ought not to be thrown, away npon that Marmaduke Lidhurst, who only looks upon her as a means of grati- . fying his ambition; and who, I am sui%, would make her very unhappy. 'His cold ■ pride is insupportable to me ; he thinks he K'the whole family cast meoff to please 3fi|^ VIVIAN, him. Perhaps he may find himself misJ" taken. — Lord Glistoubniy would prefer md for a Hou-iu-law, — But, you know, after all,) 1 can propose for lady Sarah at any time — H there's no immediate hurry, raa'am." So ended the conversation, ^The nexil morning, at an unusual hour, lord GlistMi-^ bury made his apjwarance at Castle Viviauj with an air of great vexation and emhar^ rassment: he endeavoured to speak of tii-^ vial topics; hot, one after another, thes^ subjects dropped. Then lady Mary, whi saw, that he was anjtious to speak to hef, son, soon took occasion to withdraw, no^ without feeling some curiosity, and formingi many conjeetnres, as to the object his lordi ship might have in view in this conference.,') Lord Glistonbnry'a countenance exliibitedj in quick alternation, a look of absolute di termination and of utter indecision. At length, with abrupt efl'ort, he said — " Vivian, have you seen the papers t<^ day ? " " The newspapers ? — yes! — no! — Thqjj are on the table — I did not look at them — , Is there any thing extraordinary ? " " Yes, fiiith! — extraordinary, very extra- VIVIAN. 361 ordinary^ — But it is not here — it is not there — this is not the right paper — it is not in yoar paper. — That's eitraorcUnary, too" — (then feeling in both pockets) — " I was a fool, not to bring it with me — May be I have it — Yes, here it is! Not public news, bat private ." Vivian was uU expectation, fur lie una- gined that soinetliing about lady JuUa was coming. Lord Glistonbury, who, in his commerce with public men, had learned, the art of paying iu words, to gain time^ when in danger of a bankruptcy of ideas, went on, stringing sentences together, with- out much meaning, whilst be was collecting his thongbts, and stcdying the countenance of his auditor. *' Yon recollect my suggestions the last time I had the honour of speidting to yon on a particular subject. — 1 confess, Mr. Lid- hurst's conduct does not meet my ideas of propriety ; but other persons are free to form what judgment they think fit upon the ofc- casion.— I shall submit the matter to yoo» Mr. Vivian, feeling myself called upon to come forward in\mediately to explain it to 2BSP. \' I V I A N. your sutisfaction, and I do not fear to com* mit luyBelf, by stating at once my sentiments, and the light in which it strikes me ; for there must be some decision shown, some how or other, and on some side or otlien Decision is all in all in public busioesSj as the great Bacon or somebody say nobody knows that better than Marmi^duke." Here his lordship grew warm, and, qnifri ting his parliamentary cant, assnmed his fa miliar style, " Gad! be lias stolen a march upon us— ontgencralled ns — but, in my private opi nion, not in the handsomest style possibltf — Hey, Vivian?^Hey?" " My dear lord, I have not heard the fact yet," said ViviaTi. " Oh I the fact is simply Look here, ho has, without my encouragement or concur- rence — and, indeed, as he very well knew; contrary to my approbation and wishes- gone, and declared himself candidate for this comity; and here's his fine, flourishingj) patriotic, damned advertisement in the paper — 'To the gentlemen, clergy, and freeholders of the county' Gad! lio' VIVIAN. 363 it startled me, this morning. WhcMi I first saw it, I rubbed my eyes, and could hardly believe it was Miirmadnkc. Though I pique myself on knowing a man's style at the first line, yet I could not have believed it was his, unless I had seen his name, at full IcMigth, in these great, abominable characters, ' John MarmadukeLidhurst.' — Glistonbury Castle ! too — As if I had countenanced the thing, or had promised my support ; when he knew, that, but yesterday, I was arguing the point with him in my study, and told him, I was engaged to you. — Such an ungentlcmanlike trick! — for you know it reduces me to the dilemma of supporting a man, who is only my friend, against my nearest relation by blood, which, of course, would have an odd and awkward appearance, in the eyes of the world!" Vivian expressed nuich concern for his lordship's difficulties; but observed, that the world would be very unjust if it l)lanied him, and he w as sure his lordship had too much decision of character *^ But, independently of the world," in- terrupted his lordship, " even in our o^vn R 2 r $64 VIVIAN. family, amongst all the Lidbursts and that remotest connexioDs, there would be quite a league formed against me; and these family quarrels are ugly aft'airs: for, though our feudal times are done away, party clanships have SHCceeded to feudal clanships ; and wo chiefs of parties must keep our followers in- good humour, or we are nothing in thejield 1 should say in the house — Ha! bal ha! 1 laugh, but it is a very serious Imsincss. — For Marmaduke Lidburst would be, in private or public, an impracticable eneray.—Marmaduke's a fellow capable of inextinguishable hatred; and he is every where, and knows every body, of all tha clubs, a rising young man, who is listened^ to, and who would make his story credited. And then, with one's nephew, one can't settle these things in an honourable way-^ these family quarrels must be arranged ami-i fably, not honourably; and that's the diP ficulty; the laws of honour are dead letters' in these cases, and the laws of the land do not reach these niceties of feeling. Bat' of the most important fact yon are still to' be apprised ." VIVIAN. 363 " Indeed!" cried Vivian. " Yes, you have not yet heard Marma- dulre's master-stroke of policy ! — " "No! — What is it, my lord?~I am »1I Attention — Pray explain it to me." " But there's the delicacy ! — there's the '^fficulty !^Va, no, no. — Upon my soul, 1 cannot name it!" cried lord Gliatonbnry. — *' It revolts my feelings — all my feelings — as '* man, as a gentleman, as a father- — Upon Miy honour, as a peer, I \Poald sjieak, if I eoold ; bnt, for the sonl of me, 1 cannot." " Yon know, my d*itf lord," said Vivian, ** diere can be no delicacies or dilficidties with me ; your lordship has done me the iioDoar to live always on such a footing of intimacy with rac, that, surely, there is not tmy thing you cannot say to me!" " Why, that's tnie," said lord GUston- bury, quitting his affected air of distress, «nd endeavouring to throw off his real feel- ing of embarrassment — " You are right, my clear Vivian I we are certainly upon terms •of such intimacy, that 1 ought not to be so -scrupulous — But there are certain things, a well-born, ivell-bred man In short, it ■would look so like But, in fact, I am SBtJ VIVIAN, driven to the wall, and I must defend mf self as well as I Can against this nephe' of mine — 1 know it will Iiiok like the moi horrible tliiiii; upon Earth, like what would rather be decapitated than do- know it will look, absolutely, as if I c! here to ask von to marry my daogliter whirh, vott know, is a thing no gentlemi could have the most remotely i" his coiri templatiou; but, since I am so pressed^ I ninst tell yon the exact truth, and plain to you, however diflicult, Marma** dnke's master-stroke he has propose) for lady Sarah ; and has had the assnrantfft to ask me, whether there is or is not an^ truth in certain reports, which lie is pleaseA to affirm have gone nbroad — Heaven know^ how or why! And he urges me — th^ deep dog! — for his cousin's sake, to con-*' tradict those reports, in the only eflectuid manner, by a temporary cessation of thtf intimate interconrse between Castle Vivian, and GHstonbury Castle, whilst lady Saralc remains unmarried; or, if onr master poll' tician would spesdc plainly, till he has mar- ried her himself. At any rate, I have spoken frankly, Vivian, Hey? yonll allow; ^ VIVIAN. 3tS7 id I itm entitled both to a candid inter- station of my motives, and to etjiuil rankness of reply." Wbiht liis lordship Inid been s])eukiiig, oalsy, compassion, gratitude, vanity, rival- hip, honour, lady Mary Vivian's conversa- ^n, lady Julia's letter, then again the coii- 9exion, the earldom in future, the present trininph or disap])ointment about the elec- JSon, the insolent intmsion of Mr. Lidhur^t, Jhe cruelty of abandoning a lady, who was In love with him, the dishonour, the impoe- sibility of receding after certain reports; all tbese ideas, in rapid succession,, pressed on yivian's mind: and his decision was in con- ^quentie of the feelings and of the embar- ^ssment of the moment. — Hisreijlyto lord )Glistonbury was a proposal for lady Sarab, followed by as many gallant protestations as his presence of mind could furnish. He did pot vei"y well know what be said, nor did lord Glistonbury scnijndonsly examine ■whether he had the air and accent of a true _Jover, nor did ]iis lordship inquire what bad _become of Vivian's late love for lady Julia; hut, quite content that the object should be altered, the desire the same, he relieved Vivian by exclaiming — r ffiS VIVIAN. " Come, come ! all this sort of thing lady Sarah herself must hear — and I've notion — but 1 can Itecp a secret. — You'll return ■nith me directly to Glistonbnry. - — Laily Glistonbury will be delighted to see ytm, and I shall be delighted to see AXarmaduke's face, when 1 tell him yon. have actnajly proposed for Sarah — for now I must tell you all. — Our politician calcu- lated upon the probability that you %roald not decide, yon see, to make a proposal, at once, that would justify me to the world, in supporting my son-ia-law against iny nephew,— As to the choice of the son-in- law, Sarah settles that part of the businegs lierself, you know; for, when two proposals are made, both almost equally advantageous, in the common acceptation of the word, I ftm too good a father not to leave the deci- sion to my daughter. — So you see we un- derstand one another perfectly, and will malce Marmadnke, too, understand ns per- fectly, contrary to his calculations — Hey, Hey ? Mr. Politician, your advertisement must be withdrawn, I opine, in the next paper — Hey, Vivian? my dear Vivian?" With similar loquacity, lord Glistonbury continued, in the fa\ne**oH\\%Wwct, all the VIVIAN. S69 way thev went together to Glistonbury Castle; which was agreeable to Vivian, at least by saving him from all neceesity of speakuig. " So!" said Vivian to himself, "the die is cast, and I have actually proposed for lady Sarah Lidhnrst! Who would have ex- pected this two years agof 1 wonld not have believed it, if ^ had been foretold to me, even two jnonths ago. But it is a very — a very suitable match, and it will please the friends of both parties ; and lady Sarah Is certainly very estimable, and capable of very strong attachment; and I like her, that is, I liked her yesterday very much — I really like her." Upon those mixed motives, between con- ■venience and affection, from which, Dr. -Johnson says, most people many, our hero commenced his courtship of the lady Sarah Lidhnrst. As the minds of both parties on the subject arc pretty well known to our readers, it would be cmel to fatigue them with a protracted descrI|)tion of the fonna- lities of courtship. — It is sufticifnt to say, that my lord Glistonbury had the satisfac- 970 VIVIAN. tion of seeing his nephew disappointed 5 that poor lady Glistonbury had not another stroke of the palsy from joy; and that the marriage of Charles Vivian^ esq., to the lady Sarah Lidhnrst^ was solemnized with much pomp and magnificence, and with every demonstration of joy. 371 CHAPTER XIV. *^ And the marriage was solemnized \vith much pomp and magnificence, and every de- monstration of joy." Novellists and novel readers are usually satisfied when they arrive at this happy ca-r ytastrophe; their interest and curiosity sel- dom go any farther: but in real life mar- riage is but the beginning of domestic hap- piness or miseiy. Soon after the celebration of Vivian's nuptials, an event happened, which inter- rupted all the festivities at Glistonbury, and which changed the bridal pomp to mourn- ing. Lady Glistonbury, who had been much fatigued by the multitude of wedding visits $he was obliged to receive and return, had another stroke of the palsy, which, in a few hours, terminated fatally. Thus, the very event, which Vivian had dreaded, as the probable consequence of his refusal to marry her daughter, was, in fact, accelerated by r 37a VIVIAN. the fiill accomplishment of her wishes- After the loss of her mother, lady Saralc Vivian's whole soul seemed to be engrossed by fondness for her husband. In public, and to all eyes bnt Vivian's, her ladyship seemed much the same person as formerly j bot, in private, the aflection she expressed for him was so great, that he frequently asked himself, whether this could be the same woman, who, to the rest of the world, end in every other part of her life, appeared so cold and inanimate. On a very few oc- casions her character, before her niarriag:e, had, " when much enforced, given out a hasty spark, and straight was cold again;'* but now she permitted the steady flame to bnini without restraint. Duty and passion had now the siuue object. Before marriage, her attachment had been suppressed, even at the hazai'd of her life ; she had no idea, I that the private demonstrations of un- hotmded love, from a married woman to her husband, could be either bhimeable or dange- rous : she believed it to be her duty to love her husband as much as she possibly could.— ^ I Was uot he her husband? — In fact, she - I^cw less of the prudence necessary in the nviAN. 87a management of the passion of love, than any girl of seventeen, accustomed to read novels, and to heur the suliject talked of, conld readily believe to be possible. She had been taught, that she should neither read, speak, nor think of love; and she had been so far too much restricted on this snb- ject, that, absolutely ignorant and nncon- scioua even of her dant^er, she now pnrsned her own course withont chart or compass. Her injodicions tenderness soon imposed such restraint npon her husband, as scarcely any lover, ninch less any husband,, could have patiently endured. She would hardly ever sufler him to lea-ve her. Whenever he went out of the house, she exacted frora )iim a promise, that he would be back again at a certain hour; aod, if he was even a fiew minutes later than his appointment, h« had to sustain her fond reproaches. Even though he stayed at home all day, she was uneasy, if he quitted the room where she sat; and he, who, by this time, understood, through all her exterior calmness, the symp» toms of her internal agitation, saw, by her ■ 1 countenance, that ihe was wretched, if be I J r 374 VIVIAN. seemed interested in the conversation of any. other jierson, especially of any other wo- man. One day, when Vivian, after spending the morning t^te-il-tete with lady Sarah, signi- fied to her his intention of dining abroad, she repeated her fond request, that he would he sure to come home early, and that he would tell her at what o'clock, exactly, she might expect to see him again. He named an hour, at hazard, to free himself from her importunate anxiety, bnt he could not help saying, " Pshaw!" as he ran doini stairs; an exclamation, which, fortunately, reached only the ears of a groom, who was thinking of nothing but the tops of his own boots. Vivian happened to meet some agreeable people where he dined; he was mnch pressed to stay to supper ; he yielded to en- treaty, but he had the good natured atten- tion to send home his servant, to beg that lady Sarah and his mother would not sit up for him. When he returned, he found all I the family in bed, except lady Sarah, who I was sitting up, waiting for him, with her I watch in her hand. The moment he ap- " 1 VIVIAN. 375 "peared, she assailed him with tender re- proachee, to which he answered — " But why would yon sit up, when I begged you would not, my dear lady ' Sarah ? " She replied by a continuity of fond re- proach; and, among other things, she said, but without believing it to be true — *' Ah ! 1 am sure you would have been happier, if yon had married my sister Julia, or thai miss Sidney ! " Vivian sighed deeply ; bnt, the next in- stant, conscious that he had sighed, and •afraid of giving his wife pain, he eiidea- vonred to turn the course of her thoughts to 8ome other subject. — In vain. — Poor lady Sarah said no more, but felt this exqui- sitely, and with permanent anguish. Thus her impiiidence reverted upon herself^ and she suffered in proportion to her pride and to her fondness, By such slight circum- stances is the human heart alienated from love. Struggling to be free, the restive little deity rufHes and impairs his plumage, and seldom recovers a disposition to tran- quillity. Vivian's good nature had induced him, for some time, to submit to restraint ; 876 VIVIAN, but if, instead of weakly yielding to tlie fond importnnity of his wife — if, instead of tolernting the insipidity of her conversa- tion, itud the narrowness of her viewa ; he had, with real energy, employed her capa- city upon snitable objects, he might have made her attachment the solace of tiis life. Whoever possesses the heart of a woman, who has common powers of intellect, may improve herunderstanding, in twelve months^ more .than could all the masters, and lec- tures, and courses of philosophy, and abridg- ments, and doi-umevihig in tlie universe. But Vivian had not sufficient resolution for such an undertaking ; he thought only of avoiding to give or to feel present pain ; and the consequences were, that the evils he di'eaded every day increased. Vivian's mother saw the progress of con- jugal discontent with anguisli and remorse. "Alas I" said she to herself, "I was much to blame for pressing this match. My son told mc Ite could never love lady Sarah Lidhurst. It would have been better far to have broken oiF a marriage, at the church door, than to have forced the cum- pletloa of such an ill-assorted anioo. My J T IV IAN. 377 poor 90D married chiefly from a principle of hononr ; his doty and respect for my opinion had also great weig^ht in his deci- eion; and 1 ha%'e fiat^riticed his happiness to iny desire, that he shmild make what the world calls a splendid alliance. I am the cansc of all his misery; and Heaven only knows where all this will end ! " In her paroxysm of self-reproach, and ber eagerness to set things to rights between her danghtOT-in-law and her eod, she only 'made matters «-orse. She spoke, with all the warmth and frankness of her own cha- racter, to lady Sarab, beseeching her to Speak with equal openness, and to explain the canse of the alteration in Vivian, " I do not know what ynn mean, madam, fcy alteration in Mr. Vivinn ! " " 1b not there some disagreement between YOU, my dear?" " There is no disagreement whatcYer, tnadam, as far as I know, between Mr. Vivian and me — we agree perfectly : " said lady Sarah. " Well, the misunderstanding'.'" " I, do not know of any misunderstandings .S^S VIVIAN. madam. Mr. X'ivian and I understand on*' another perfectly." " Tlie coolness, then — Oh I what word shall I use! — Surely, my dear lady Sarali, tiiereis some coolness — something wrong?" " 1 am sure, madam, I do not complaia of any coolness on Mr. Vivian's part. Am I to understand^ that be complains to yojit ladysllip of^oy thing wrong on mine? If he does, I shall think it my duty, when he points out the particulars, to make any alteration he may desire, in my conduct and manners." " Complain! — My son! — He makes no complaints, my dear. — YoQ misunderstand me. — My sou does not complain, that any thing is wrong on your part." " Then, madam, if no complaints are made on either side, :l11 is as it should he, I presume, at present ; and if, in fijture, I should fail in any point of duty, 1 shall hold myself obliged to your ladyship, if you will then act as my monitor." Hopeless of penetrating lady Sarah's sevenfold fence of pride, the mother flew to her son, to try what could be done witli liia L VIVIAN. 379 J open and ^nerous inind. He expressed a, ' most earnest and sincere wish to make his J wife hapjiy. Cousciaus that he had given ,' her exquisite pain, he eudeavoiiretl to make atonement, hy the sacrifices whlcli he thought would he most grateful to her. He refrained ^ oflea from company and conversation, that was agreeahle to hiin, and would resign ■ himself for hoiirs to her society, It was fortnnate for lady Julia Lidluirst, that, hy , continuing with her good uncle, the hishop, she did not see the consequences of the union, which she had so strenuously advised. , The advice of friends is often highly useful, to prevent an imprudent match ; hut it seldom happens that marriages turn out i happily, which have heen made from the ' opinion of others, rather than from the judg- ment and incHnatious of the parties con- ' cerned ; for, let the general rea,sons, on which the advice is grounded, be ever so > sensible, it is scarcely possible that the ad- viser can tiike in all the little circumstances ' of taste and temper, upon which so much of the happiness or misery of domestic life depends. Besides, people are much more | apt to repent of havhig been guided hy the ' k r % ■ ^ 1 MO VIVIAN, judgment of another, than of having fol- lowed their own ; and this is most likely to be the case with the weakest minds. Strong minds can decide for themselves, not by tha opinions, bnt )»y the reasons, that are laid before them : weak minds are iiiflnencexi merely by opinions -, and never, either before or after tlieir decision, are firm in abiding I>y the prejMjnderating reasons. However in- genious or just the arguments, which lady Jnlia had urged, to prove, that her sister's firmness of character wwild coraj>ensate for the unsteadiness of Vivian's ■ — that twd people, likely to be mutually serviceable, must, therefore, become mutually fond of each other — yet there were many consi- derations, which had esca])ed her foresight, tmd which prevented the accomplishment of her predictions, Kven where she had beea right, in some res])ects, in her knowledge of character, she wiis wrong in the conclusions, that she drew from them ; for, though sh© had foretold, that her sister Sarah wonlA love with a warmth, little to be expected from her general manners, yet, lady Jalift was mistaken in imagining, that this fond^ ness would necessarily he agi^eeable |»' VIVIAN. 381 Vivian, nor could she foresee, that it would be so imprudently managed. No letters, no intelligence from liome, except a malicious hint, now and then, from lier cousin Marmaduke, which she did not credit, gave her reason to suspect, that the pair, whom she had contributed to unite, were not perfectly happy. So lady Julia exulted in the success of her past counsels, and indulged her generous, romantic disposi- tion, in schemes for forwarding a nnion be- *tween Russell and Selina, determiuing to di- vide her fortune amongst the children of her friends. She concluded oue of her letters to lady Sarah Vivian, about this time, with these words : — " Could I but see one other pet-son, whom *' I must not name, rewarded for his virtues, ** as you are, by happy love, I should die " content, and would write on my tomb : — r " Je ae fAs poinl heureax, mais j'ai fait IcDt bonheuT *." , Far removed from all romance, and all generosity of sentiment, lord Glistonbury, in * From some lines of Delille's, on Rousseau, coii> eluding wiih ttie following: — the mean time, went on very comfortabl without observing any thing that pa.ssed in bis family. Whatever uneasiness ohtnided - " Malheureux \ le tre|ia3 est done t Ah! dans la tombe, au moins, repose eufin tninquillel i Ce beau lac, ces flols purs, ces fleura, ces gaaons fraia, Ces pales peupliers, louL I'invite i la pais. Respire, doiit, enfin, de tea trisies chimeres. Vols nccuurir vers toi les epoux, et les mSres. Conieniple les amans, qui viennent chaijuc jour, Verser sur ton tombeau les larmes Ue I'amour! Vois ce groupe d'eiiraoB, se Jouant sous I'ombrage, Qui de leur liberie vienneiit te reiidre homniage, Et dia, eu contemptant ce spectacle enchanleur, Jc nefus point htireux, mats fat fait leiir bonlieur.' Ill-fated mortal ! doom'd, alas ! to find The grave sole refuge from lliy restless mind. This lurf, these flow'rs, this lake, this silent wave. These poplars pale, that murmur o'er your grave. Invite repose. — Enjoy the tranquil shore, Where vain chimeras shall torment no more! See to ihy lomb the wife and mother fly. And pour their sorrows where ihy ashea lie ! Here the fond youth, and here the blushing maid. Whisper ihtir loves lo thy congenial shades And- grateful children, smiling through their tears. Bless the Iot'J champion of (heir youthful years ; 'l"hen cry, triumphant, from thy honouv'd grave— 7 Joy!eM I liv'd, but jn^ to otkai gave. • (L& J VIVIAN. 3S3 upon his attention he attributed to one cause — anxiety, relative to the question on which hia present thoughts were cxdusively fixed, viz. whether lady Sarnh's first child would be a hoy or a girl, " Heaven grant a boy ! " saiil his lordship ; " for then, yon know, there's an end of Martiiadnke, as heir at law ! " Whenever his lordship saw a cloud on the brows of lady Mary, of lady Sarah, or of Vivian, he had one infallible ehann for dispelling melancholy ; — he step- ped up close to the patient, and whispered — " Itwillbe ahoy! — My life upon it, it will be a boy!" Sometimes it happened, that this- universal remedy, applied at random, made the patient start, or smile; and then his lord- ship never failed to add, with a nod of great sagacity, "Ah I you didn't know I knew what you were thinking of ! — Well ! well V you'll see, we shall cut out Marmadnk& yet — ." With this hope of cutting out Marma-; duke, lord Gllstonhury went on very happily,, and every day grew fonder of the son-in-* law, who was the enemy of his heir at law, or whom he considered as such. The easi-'' ness of Vivian's temper was peculiarlyT J84 VIVIAN. agreeable to his lordship, who enjoyed thi daily pleasure of govermog a man of talenUy. which were far superior to his own : thi»i easiness of temper in our hero was mudL increased by the want of motive and stima-<>j las. He thought that he now had lost hi» chance of happiness ; he cared little for tho. more or less pain of each succeeding dayj- and, so passive was his listlessness, that^l to a superficial observer, like lord GlistoO'V bury, it looked like the good nature of per-*' feet content. His lordship had always beei^i in the habit of indulging in what are called i convivial pleasures ; and as he had long* since found out, even at the first election, in ■which he assisted our hero, that Vivian could be a good companion, he did not fail now to press him frequently into tlie ser- vice: Vivian, in the artificial spirits raised by wine, found some temjMjrary relief to his nnhappiness, and indulged more and more in a vice, which he had formerly detested, and to which he had never been naturally disposed. The remonstrances of his mo- ther and of his wife were anavailing. He reproached himself^ he felt his degradation ; but his own reproaches were too feeble^ and V I V 1 A N- ;J8.> -■1» hftd lost that friend, whose eloqiK-nce Hsed'to animate him to txertioii, and to in- spire him with ronlidcnct. Poor Vi- fiaii! — III this wreck of his happiness, one saving chiiiK'e, howevi^r, yet ri'mained. He Tiad still ii puljlic character ; he ivHS ron- acious of having ])roserved unblemished in- tegrity, as a member of the senate : and this integrity, still more than his oratorical ta- lents, raised liiin far above most of his com- petitors, and in-eServed him not only in the opinion of others, hut in his own. When parliament met^ he went to town, took a very handsome liou'^e for lady Sarah, deter- mining to ilo all he conhi to oMige and please the wife, whom he conkl not love. Lady Sarah had complete -jjower, at liome and abroad, of her time and her exjicnses : her dress, her equipages, her servants, her whole establishment, were above Vivian's fortune, and equal to her hidvship's birth and rank. She was mistress of every filing bnt of bis heart. The less he liked her, liie more he endeavonred to compensate for this involimtaiy fault, by allowing her that absolute dominion, and that external splen- dour, which he thought would gratify, and, VOL. am VIVIAN. perha^, fiU lier nii^4- As for liimiel^ k» took refuge in the hpus? uf conatnons. I'hcre he forgot, for & time, domestic UDeasJt*'. neas, aod was trul^^ aaimated by what sa many affect — zeal for the good of his couik try. He was jiroud to recollect, that thtri profligate Whartoo had failed in tlu; atk: tempt to laugh him out of his pnblio virtaet- he was proudj that Wharton's projiheciea ofi hi& apostacy had never been accomplished^ tlia^, as a public character at lea^t, he had|i fulfilled the promise of lii^ early youth* an^ wa^ still worthy of bims^fi and of thatf Iriend, whom he h^d lost, He chiog to thw idea, as. to the only hope left him in li&i. Lojrd Gli&tonbury could not, in the least, ud*i ^rstand or eater into hi& notions ahooA public vittuc; looked npou them, all an mere remains of school themes and ceJIegtt reading, of which lie wondered, that Vivia^ had not got rid by this time, and of whidv he was peLSuuded that a little more knon^ ledge of the world woukl soon obliterate every trace. His lordship, howevicr, wab rather pleased by this patriotism in his soa- itl-law, not otdy becaose it gave hiia a sense' oi, his. owji sBpetiority over thj^^es^ tHam- VIVIAN. 387 a senator, but because it also fortvardetl llis political vietrs. I'atriotisiQ wa^ to be hU cry, his watcliword, as one of the leaders «rf opfwsition ; and any one who ronld even set the character ot' ii pntriot plausibly, was ©f valoe to his party ; how nmch more ra- Inable, then, the honest orator, who, being teally in earnest, could snrpass the mero Political actor in the power ot tonchtng and ^oremiiig the public mind 1 Lord Gliston- ■ bury one day i-cniarked, in comparing Vi* viaii's speaking :uid Marmaduke Lidbarst'sj *' They both seem to speak equally well — equally good argnnient -^ equally good langiiagf?; birt there is a raciness, in my son- in-law's eloquenccy which there is not in my nephew's — 'They midce a very different im- pression an the house, and I really do not well know why, except that Vivian is qnit^ in earnest, and that Lidimrst ii considered cnly as — as — as one of as." Mr. Mariiiadiikc Lidhurst now acted along with his uncle, and joined his party in politics, upon condition, that his lordship r should, on tlic lirst occasion, procure for I him a certain lucrative office, on which his I mind was fixed. In this hope, he gave op^ 388 V I V 1 A N. or a#i:cted to relinquish, all vieir to Lis uncle's estate ; lie often said iie liojicd lady Sarah's child would he a hoy, and he shonld not envy Vivian his good fortune; but, iii sirite of his dissimulation, he never could conquer his nncle's jealousy, or Vi>nan's dislike to the cold selfishness and political craft of his character. Vivian, however, saw and estimated hts abilities ; and the sort of rivalship of talents, which arose between them, was advantugeons, as it stimulated our hero to exertion. One night, in a debate in the house of tomnions, on some question of importance, hc'iiiadu iiQ excellent speech, which was particularly well received by tlie house, (^ause it came troni one, who had an unhl&< ttiished cliaracter. When Vivian went ii the cofiee-rooui, to refresh himself, after 1] had done speaking, several ftf his acqnaiiil aurc crowded round him, coniplinicntinj him upon his success — he broke from t nil ; for he saw, advancing towards hiu with a smile of approbation, the friend, i whose a}>probation he set a higher than he did even on the apphuises of thc^l house — the Iricud, whose lost a^ection h*l L- VIVIAN. 389 had so long and so bittetly. regretted." Ru^ sell stretched out his band — Vivian eaj^rerly seisBed.it; and^ before they had either of them spoken one word, they both nnder-f stood each other perfectly, and their recon- ciliation was completely effected. " Yes," said Russell, as tliey walked out arm in arm together, " Yes, it is fit that I should forget all private resentment, in the pride and pleasure I feel, not merely in your public success, but in your public vir- tue — Talents, even the rare talent of ora- tory, you know, I hold cheap, in compari-* son with that, which is so far more rare> vlh well as more valuable — political integrity; The abhorrence and contempt of political profligacy, which you have just expressed, as a member of the senate, and the con- sistent conduct, by which you have sup- ported your principles, are worthy, of you ; and, allow me to say, of your education/' Vivian felt exalted in his own opinion by such praise, and by these the warmest ex- pressions he had ever received of RusselPs regard — He forgot even his domestic un- easiness ; and this day, the first for many months he had spent happily, he passed Wm VIVIAN. with his friend. They supped together; and related mntualty all that happened since their parting. Kttssell told Vivian, that lie had lately been a^eeably surprised by the gift of a valuable living from the bishop of •«#*«*, Jady Julia Lidhurst's uncle; diat the bishop, whom he had tilt then never seen, hiid written to him in the handsomest manner, saying, that he kne^¥■ the obligations his family owed to Mr. Rns- acU ; that it had been the dying reqnest of his nejdiew, lord Lidhurst, that some token of the family esteem and gratitude shonld be offered to him, to whom they owed so iDDcIi ; but, the bishop added, that neither ^ family gratitude, nor private friendship, could have induced him to bestow chorch preferments upon any but the person, whose ehararter best entitled him to such a die- tlnction and such a tmst, Thia letter, as Vivian observed, was well calculated to satisfy RuKsell's conscionce and his deiicrtcy. 'I'lie conversation next tamed upon lady Julia Lidbni-st, Kussell was not aware, that Vivian knew more of her attat.^hment to hini, than what had Iwen discoxered tfae day before he left Gliston- r " ■■ VIVIAN. 391 btiry; and Vivian could not help admiring the honountble and delicate manner ia wbich his friend spoke of her, withont nny air of mystery, and with the greatest re- spect. He told Vivian he had heard, that proposals had been lately made to her lady- ship by a jrentleman of great talents and of high character J \mt that she ha«l positively declined his addressee, and had repeated het declaration, that she wotdd never marry. Her good nncle left her, on this point, ett- lirely at liberty, and did Hot mention thfe pro]>osal to lord Gliatonbuiy, Icat she Rbould be exposed to any fresh difficidtiei. Russell expressed much satisfaction at this part of i the bishop's conduct, as being not only the most kind, but the most judicious, and the I most likely to dispose his niece to change her determination. He repeated ius opi- nion, that, united to a man of sense and strength of mind, she would make a charm-- ing and excellent wife. Vivian agreed with I him; yet observed, that he was convinced she wouid never marry— —There be paused — Could lady JuHa herself have over- heard the conversation which afterwardj passed between these two gentlemen, one of whoin she had loved, and the other ol whom she had refused, not a word would have hurt her feelinfis : on the contrary, she would have been raised in her opinion, and giatified hy the strouf^ interest they both showetl for lier hiipjiiness — They regretted only, that a young woman of sncb talents^ and of such aline, generous disposition, had been so injudiciously edncated. " And now, my dear Russeil!" cried Vi? vian, " that we have finished the chapter of lady Julia, let us talk of miss Sidney."— Russell's change of countenance showedj that it was not quite so easy for him to talk upon this subject — Tospiire him the effort] Vivian rcsnmed. i " As you are a rich man now, my dear Russell, you will certainly marry ; and know," added he, smiling, " that miss Sid- ney will be your wife. If ever man deri ^icrved such a prize, you do ; and I shall bb the first to wish yon joy." < " Stay, my good friend," intermpted Rua- Bell, " your kindness for me, and yourima-* gination, are too quick in this anticipatioa of my happiness." -^ Russell then told him, that he never had declared his attachment k VIVIAN. 393 .to Selina, till Vivian's marri:ige had put no. end to all probability of rividsliip with bis iriend. She had expressed high esteem lor Jtnssell, but bad told him, tlutt she had sut'i fered so much from a first unfovtviiiiite at- tachment, that she felt averse from any new engagements. ~ " Shalt I assure you, as you assured me just now, with regard to lady Julia," said .Vivian, " that miss Sidney will be prevailtd npon to alter her determination; and shall I add, that, though I should like lady Julia the less, I should like Selina the better, fpc changing her mind." — He went on, gene- rously expressing sincere hojies, "that his kfriend might obtain Selina Sidney's attecv ^ons, and might enjoy that domestic hapjii- ness, which .'" Vivian was going to aay, " wliich be liad himself forfeited ;" bnt, therkingthis regix't, he only said — "that domestic happiness, 3vhich I consider as the summit of human felicity, and which ne man can deserve bet- ter than you do, my dear Russell." Russell easily guessed, that poor Vivian had not attained this summit of human fc- Jicity by his own raarrif ^Vf r 9$4 V I V I A K. kind and too jacHcious a friend to say a word, that could give him pain on this delicate snbject. He never adverted to any of the conversations they had held about lady Sai-ali Lidhnrst; never recalled any of Vivian's vehement declarations concerning the absolute impossibility of his making auch a match ; never evinced the least sur- prise at his marriage; nor inquired how he had conquered his pas^^ion for lady Julia. With friendly foi^etfulness, he seemed tOi have totally obliterated from hie mind all that it could do no good to remember. Vi- vian was sensible of this delicacy, and grate- ful for it; but to imitate Uussell'a reservft and silence, n})on certain subjects, required a force, a forbearance, of which he was not capable. At first, he had determined not to say one word to Russell of domestic un- easinesses 1 but they had not been many hours together, before Vivian poured forth all hi» complaints, and confessed how bitterly be repented his marriage : he declared, that h* had been persuaded, by the united efforts of her family and of his mother, against his own judgment, or, at least, against his tatt* and inclinations, to marry lady Sarah. VIVIAN. 395 *' By whatever persuasions, or by what* ever motives, your choice was decided," intemiptcd Russell, " reflect, that it is de- cided for life ; therefore, abide by it, and jus- tify it. — Above all, make yourself happy with the means, which are yet in your power, instead of wasting your mlud in imavailing regret. — You are united to a woman, who has every estimable qnality, aa you candidly acknowledge : there are some particulars, ia which she does not please your taste ; hut ■withdraw yonr attention from these, and yoii will be happy with a wife, who is so firndy attached to you. Consider, besides, that — romance ajiart — love, though a de- lighttial passion, is not the only reaonrce, which a man of sense, virtue, and activity, may find for happiness — Yonr public du- ties, yonr success, and your repivtatiou a* a public character, will ." Russell was interrupted, in this cousola- " tory and invigorating speech, by the eii» trance of a servant of lord Glistonbury's, who brought a note from bis lordehip to Mr. Vidian, requesting to see bini as soon ap he could make it convenient to come t^ Olistonbury House, as his lordship wanted ■, SW VIVIAN. to speak to him on particular business of tlie greatest importance. Vivian was provoked by being tbiis summoued away Crom Lis friend, to atteud to one of what lie called lord Glistonbnn"'s important mi/ster!es about nothing Russell was engaged to go iuto the country the ensuing day, to take pos- iesslon of his new living; but he promised, that he would see him again soon; and, with this hope, the two friends parted. Vivian went to lord Glistonbury's : he found his lordship in his study. " W^here have you been, Vivian ! " exclaimed he ; "I have sent messenger after messenger to look for yoH, half over the town ; I thought yoii were to have dined with us, but you ran away, and nobody could tell where, or with whom ; and we iiave been waiting for you, at our cabinet council here, with the utmost impatience." Vivian answered, that he had unexpectedly met with his friend Rus- sell J and was proceeding to tell his lordr ship how handsomely the bishop of ****** bad i)rovided for his friend ; but lord GUs' tonbnry, like many other great men, having the habit of forgetting all the services of those, from whom they have nothing more to ejcpect, cut short Viviau's narration, Ijy excl aiming — ' , I "True, tmel well, well I thiit's ail over, 'now — Certainly, tliat Russell did his duty ■by my poor son ; and acted as lie ought to do in all things ; and I'm glad to hear my brother has given liiin a good living ; and i hope, as yon say, he will soon be luarried — . so best, so best, yon know, Viviun, for reaT- sons of our own — Well! well! I'm glad he is provided for — not bnt what that liv- ing would have been of essential service, if it had been reserved for a friend of mine bnt my brother the bishop never can enter into any political views — might as well not have a brother a bishop But, how- ever, Mr. Russell's a friend of yours — I am not rcgi'etting — ■ not bo rude to you to re- gret on the contrary, rejoice, particu- larly as Mr. Russell is a man of so much merit — But all that's over now; and I want to talk to you upon quite another matter. — Yon know I have alwaya said 1 should, sooner or later, succeed in my grand object, Hey, Vivian f " " Your lordship's grand object ? — I am not sure that I know it." ^ 39t VIVIAN. " Oh ! surely yon know my grand ob^ ject f You my son-in-law, and forget my grand object? — The marqnisate, yon km the marquisate, the marqnisate! — Did not I always tell yon, that I would make government, sooner or later, change m^ earldom into a marqnisate? — Well! the thing is done— that is, as good as donei they have sent to treat with me npon my own terms." *' I give yon joy, my dear lord!" said Vivian. "Joy! — to be Mire yon do, my sober sir: — - one wonld think you had no concern or in- terest in the business. — Joy! to be snre yoa ^ve me joy; but, I can tell yon, you must give me something more than joy — yoo' must give me support." '* How he looks ! " continued lord Giiston- bury, " as if he did not know what is meant by support. Vivian, did yon never hear of parliamentary snpport?" " I hope, my dear lord," replied Vivian gravely, " that yon have not entered ioto any engagements, or made any promises for me, which 1 cannot have it in my power to perform." VIVIAN. 399 J Lord Glistonbnry hesitated in som« con- I fiision ; and then, forcing a look of eilVontery, II in an as«red tone replied — j " No. I have not made any engage- ments or promises for yoii, wliicli you can- , not perform, Vivian, I am clear; nor any, ^ which I have .not a right to expert my son- ' in-law will confinn with alatrrity." ' " What have you engaged? — what have yoa promised for me, my lord?" said Vi- vian earnestly. , " Only, my dear ijoy," ?aid lord GHaton- I bury, assuming a facetious tone, " only that you will be aiwaya one of us — And are not you one of us? — my son-in-law! — the dense is in it, if he is not one of us !■ — In short, yoit know, to be serious, a party must go to- , gether, that is, a family party must go to- gether; and, if niinisiry do my business, of coai-se I do theirs. — If I have my mar- quisate, they have my votes." *' But not my vote — pardon me, my lord , — my vote cannot be bartered in thit , manner." " But, yoH know, Mr. \'ivian, you know j it is for your iaterestj as mnth as for mine ; \ for, yoQ know, the raarcjuisate will probably i 400 V I V J A N, descenc], in due course of time, to your son. — So your interest is full as inurb con- cerned as mine ; and, besides, let me teU you, I have not forgot your inunediate in- terest; I have stipulated, that vou should have the valuable place, which Mr. C was to have had." All thiit Russell had said of public virtue was fresh in our hero's mind. — " I thank yoiij my dear lord," said he ; " for I am sure this was kindly intended — But 1 am not • one of those persons, who, in public af- fairs, think only of their private interest — I ain not tiiiukiug of mv interest." " So I perceive," said lord Glistonbury, in a tone of disappointment and displeasure. Without regarding this, Vivian proceeded^ " Not for this maiquisate, not for any title or rank in the gift of the crown, would I forfeit my honour, my principles, my public character." "Very fine, vastly well said; hnt not quite to the purpose, not precisely in point, I apprehend!" replied lord Glisten-' bury ; " for I do not see that a man's accept- ing a marquisate, or votuig with bis ma- jesty's ministere, necessarily imjilies a for- VIVIAN. 401 ■feitnre of honour and principle, and a total dereliction of all public reputation." " Far from it ! " cried Vivian ; *' yon snrely cannot imagine nie, my lord, to be capable of making so wild or absurd an assertion. Bat if a man opposes certain public mea- sures one day, and the next, for valuable consideration, supports diametrically oppo- site opinions and measures, he will lose, and deserve to lose, all reputation for in- tegrity." " Integrity ! political integrity 1 " said lord Glistonburyj " tine words, which mean nothing. Behind the scenes, as we are now, Vivian, what use can there be in talk- ing in that strain?— Between you and me, you know, this is all nonsense. For who, of any party, now thinks, really and truly, of any thing hut getting power, or keeping it ; ■ — power, you know, stands for the measure of talent; and every thing else worth having 18 included in that word, power. — I speak plainly^And, as honour is merely an affair of o])inion, and Qjiinion, again, an a(ftir of numbers, and as there are numbers enough to keep one in countenance in these things; really, my dear Vivian, it is quite childisl^. «0C VIVIAN. quite boyish, smells of the lamp. — To de- claim abont political intc^ity, and all that, is not the laii^age of a inmi, who knows any thing of business — any thing of the ■world. But why do I say all this?" cried lord Ghstoidmry, checking himself and assuming an air of more reserrcd dis* pleasure. — " Mr. Vivian ccrtaiuly know* all this, as Mell as I do; I know how m^ nephew Marmaduke, who, with all bis faidts, is no foo), would interpret yonr pre- sent language : he would say, as I have often heard him say, that political iotcgrit^ is only a civil put off"." " Political integrity only a civil pnt offl* repeated Vivian, witli unfeigned astonish- ment. When he formerly heard simitar sentiments from the avowed profligate and hacknied politician, Mr. Wharton, he was shocked ; but, to hear them repeated, ai being coolly laid down by so young a maa »s Mr. Lidhnrst, excited Go mnch disgnst and contempt in Vivian's mind, that be could hardly refrain from saying more tbaa father pnidence or politeness could Justify. " Now, I am free to c-onfess," pursued lord Glistonbury, " that I shonld think it mor« VIVIAN. 403 tundid and manly, and, I niil add, ihotb friendly, and more the nutorul, open con- duct of a soD-inlaw to a fatbcr-ifl-iaw, instead of talking of political integrity, to bave said, at OQce, I caunot obIig;e you in this iiistan<'e ." "Sorely, my lord, yon caiinot be in ear- nest ? " said Vivian, " J tell yoo, sir, I ain in earnest," cried his lordship, turning snddeiily, in a nige, lis he walked np and down the room; "I tay, it woukl have been more candid, mors manly, more every thing — lace, would make: and, tboagb she %oai she gre\r, if possible, still more vehe» ment. Vivian M-as shaken in his resoIntifA by his mother's entreaties — by the idea of all tlie family qnarrels that would ensue, and of all the diHiculties, in which he might VIVIAN. 407 uxvolved, if he persisted in his generous I'determtnatioii. Lady Mary had still power- ftil argumeuts in store. • " Wy dear son," resumed she, ** it would be absolute iiiaduess, to refiise the place ,&at is now o&red yon -^ only consider Oka sitnatioQ of yotir afihirs — consider, 1 beseech you, the disti'ess you will be in by and by, if you reject this otter — Kecollect (ike iiumense demands upon you ; recollect that heap of bills for the election, and for the buildings, and all the poor workmen r About the castle ! and that coachmaker, too T aud remember, the ptirchuse money of the ^use in town must be paid in three months. It h reidly impossible that you ean go on, fioless you accept of this place ; for yoa know, my dear Charles, I cannot assist yoa effectually, or most happy should I be to relieve you from all difficnlties, at whatever hazard or inconvenience. I woold willingly give up my hotree in town, and lay down my carriage — ," " No, no, my dear mother ! " ejcclaimed Vivian ; " you shall do no nmre ; you have already done infinitely too much ; and I cannot bear to think of the inconTcnience- ^EttSi VIVIAN. to which your confiding generosity )ia» al- ready put yo«." "Don't think of that — don't speak of tliat, Charles ! — Between mother and son, you know, there can be no division oj' in- terest; and, if I know anything of myself, I shall always manage so as to prevent your feeling any uneasine»s on my account. When 1 mentioned myself, I meant not to aJlndu to tile past, but only to regret, that, in future, 1 have no means of serving you as 1 wish ; and, as to the Glistonhuries, you know, notwithstanding his great nooiinal income, he lives beyond it so far, that there is scai'tely a man in England, who M'ould fitul it more ilifticult to ruise a thonsandi pounds than lord Glistonhury. if yon disti oblige him now, you have no decent clainii [ upon him; and, besides, I cannot hear tli^. j idea of your asking such sort of pecuniary i favours from yonr wife's family. They ar* J all prond ensite man- ner, I shall do what 1 think riglit, and i shall preserve my honour" — she would say, " Do what vou think right, and preRurve yonr honour, let what will be the conse- quence." He recollected all lady Julia ttad Lthe advantage that her si'tci's T 2 4ia VIVIAN, ness of mind might be, in steadyiug his v*p' cillating temper, in any moment of trial. Here was the first great occasion, since bis marriage, where his wife's strength of mind could be of essential service to him ; yet he hesitated whether he should avail himself of this advantage; and every moment, as he approached uearer to her apartment, he hesitated more and more. He did not, in the first place, like to hnmble himself so far, as to ask her counsel ; then he had not cou- rage to confess those debts and embarrass- ments, which he liad hitherto concealed. All that his mother had suggested about the indelicacy of rctjuiring or accepting great sacrifices from a woman, whon^ though he esteemed, he could not love — « the horrour of retirement, with such a con^r panion 1 — the long year's tete-Jl-tete ! all these ideas combined, but chief the ape prehension of the immediate present pain of speaking to her on a disagreeable subject;, and of being obliged to hear her speak irith that formal deliberation, which he de* tested — added to this, the dread of her sur- prise, if not of her reproaches, when all htf affairs should he revealed, operated so VIVIAN. 413 sistibly upou his weakness, that he decided on the common resource — concealment. His hand was upon the lock of his chamber door, and he turned it cautiously and softly, lest, in entering his apartment, lie should waken lady Sarah : but she was not asleep. " What can have kept you so late, Mr. Vivian ? " said she. " Business, my dear," answered he, with some embarrassment. " May I ask what sort of business ? " • " Oh ! — only — political business." "Political business 1" — she looked ear- nestly at her husband, but, as if repressing her cnriosity, she afterwards added — " Oni sex have nothing to do with politics," and, turning away from the light, she composed herself to sleep. " Very true, my dear," replied Vivian — ■ not a word more did he say : content with this evasion of the difficulty, he thus, by his M'eakness, deprived himself of the real ad- vantage of his wife's strength of mind. Whilst lady Sarah, in total ignorance of the distress of her husband, slept in peace, he lay awake, revolving painftil thoughts, in the silence of the night. All that his W 4I«* VIVIAN. I uiotter liad t-aid aboot the pecuniary di(H^ f cullies, to whicli they mtist soon be reduced, recurred with fresh torce ; the ideas of the unpaid election bills ; all (be masons', car- penters', painters', glaziers', and npholster-t ers' biils, with — " Thousands yet unnamed behind " — rose in dreadful array before him, and the enthusiasm of bis patriotism' was appalled. With feverish reiteration, he ran over and over, in bis mind, the same^' circle of difficulties, coHtianally retxirning to the question, "Then, what can he done?" Bitterly did he, tliis night, regret the foolish expenses, into which he had early in life , been led.— " If it were to do over again^ he certainly would not turn his hon^e inttt a castle ; if he had foreseen how much the expense would surpass the estimates, aa- suredly, nothing could have tempted him to such extravagance. The architect, the ma- sons, the workmen, one and all, were knaves ; hut, one and all, they most be palA. ■ ■ Tlien what could he do ? — And th« debts incurred by the contested elections ! — Contested elections are cursed things, when the bills come to be paid; but, cursed or not, they most be paid Then what could he VIVIAN. 415 do f'*^— The (listi'ess In which he should in- volve, his generous mother — the s-acrifices he should require from his wife — the fa- mily (jnaiTels — all timt lady Sarali would vaSev from them — the situation of his wife Then what could he do ? — He MUST submit to lord Gltatonlmiy, and-take the place, that was oBered to him." Vivian sighed — andtnrnedinhisbed — aud sighed — and thought — and turned — and sighed again — and — the last sigh of ex- piring patriatism escaped biin ! -To this vaAy to this miserable end, mnst all patviotism eoEie, which is not gnpported by the seem* ingly inferior virtues oi' prudence and ^co^ B.OBiy'. ' Poor Vivian endeavoured to comfort him-* self by the reflection, that he should not act from merely mercenary considerations; but that be was compelled to yield to the soli- citations of bis mother and of his father-in- law ; that he was forced to sacrifice his owa public opinions to secure domestic peace, and to prevent the distress of his mother, the mi- sery, aud perhaps danger, of his wife and child. Dereliction of principle, in these circum- stances, was something like an amiable, a L 416 viviA> jiardonable weakness. — And then, see it in wliat light yon will, as lord Glistonbury observed, " there are so many, who will keep a patriot in countenance, nowadays, for merely changing sides in politics. — A man is not even thought to be a man of ta- , lents, till he gets something by his talents. — The bargain he makes, the price he gains^ is, in most people's estimation, the value of the public man." All this Vivian said la himself to quiet his conscience ; and all this, he knew, would be abuudantly satisfactoiy to the generality, ©f people, with whom he associated ; there-t fore, from them he could fear neither rfr. proach nor contempt ; but lie could not bear even to think of Russell — he felt all the pangs ©f remorse, and agony of shame, as the idea of such a friend came into his mind. \ Again he turned in his bed, and groaned -•tloud — so loud, that lady Sarah wakened, and, starting up, asked what was the mat-I ter; but, receiving no answer, she imaginec^ ihat siie had been in a dream, or that her husband had spoken in his sleep. He^^ groaned no more, nor did he even sigh). but, fatigued with thinking and wit h fa VIVIAN. 417 ing, he at last fell iiitb a sort of slumber, which lasted till it was time to rise. Before Vivian was dressed, lord Glistonbury called upon him — he went into his dressing-room. His lordship came with his best address, and most courteous face of persuasion ; he held out his hand, iu a frank and cordial manner, as he entered, begging bis dear son's pardon for the warmth and want of temper, " he was free to confess, he had shown last night ; but he was persuaded," he said, " that Vivian knew his sincere re-' gard for him, and convinced, that, in short, they should never essentially differ; so tliat he was determined to come to talk the mat- ter over with him, when they were both cool; and that he felt assured, that Vivian, after a night's reflection, Avould always act so, as to jnstify his preference of his son-in- law to his nephew, Hey, Vivian ? " — Lord Glistoi(bury paused for an answer — Vivian ' cut himself, as be was shaving, and was ' glad of a moment's reprieve ; instead of an- " swering, he only exclaimed, " Cursed razor 1 cut myself! My lord, won't yon sit •down, if you do me the honour to " Lord Glistonbury seated himself; and, in ' T 5 Jkii VIVIAN. regular order, ivith bis tiresome parade of expletives, went through all the ai^ments^ that conld he adduced, to prove the expe- diency of Vivian's taking this place, aud as- sisting liiiu, '* us he had taken it for grantedl his son-in-law woald, oil snch an occasion.' The letters of the great aod little men, wW had negotiated the basiness of the marqui- sate, were then produced, and an account given of all that had passed in confidence f and lord Glistonhnry finished hy saying^ " that the iifiair was absolutely concluded,' he having passed his word, and pledged his. honour, for Vivian — that he would not have spoken or acted for him, if he had not; felt, that he was, when acting for his son-^ in-law, in fact, acting for himself — his se^. cond Belf — that there had been no time to wait, no possibility of consulting Vivian — that the whole plan was suggested yesteri day, iu two hours afttn- the bonse broke op, and was arranged in tlie evening — that search aud inquiries hud been made everj| where for Vivian, hut, as he could not btf found," lord GUstonbury said, " he had( ventnred to decide for him, and, as he hoped] for his interest, and for that of the family — ^^^V VIVIAN. 419 P and the thii^, now dune, could not be an- done — Lis lordship's word was sacred, and could not be retracted," Viviiui, ia a feeble, irresolnte tone, asked R if there wasno possibiiity of his being allow- ed to decliue the place that was oftered him, and suggested, tliat he could take a middle course ; to avoid voting against his lordship'3 wishes, he conld, and he believed that he would, iLCcept of the CliUteru Hundreds, and go out of parliament for tlie session. Lord Glistonbury remonstrated against what he termed the raa{hiess of this scheme. " A man like you, my dcat Vivian, who have distinguished yourself so much already . in opposition, who will distinguish yourself so much more, hereafter, in place and in power. " "No!" — said Vivian, rising as he fi- nished shaving himself — "No, my lord, I shall nevei' more distinguish myself, if I abandon the pi-inciplcs 1 believe to be just ,aBd true. — What elotjuenre I have, if I . have any, has arisen from my being in earnest ; — I shall speak ill — I shall not be able to speak at all — when 1 get nj» against ray conscience ! " " Oh!" said lord Glistonbury, laughing; " your romantic patriotism may he very nice in it's feelings ; but, believe me, it will not deprive you ot" the use of your speech. — Look at every one of the fine orators of our times, and name me one, if you can, who has not spoken, and spoken equally well, on both sides of the house ; ay, and on both sides of most political questions. — Come, come ! you'll find you will get on quite as well as they got on before you — Hey?" " You will find, that I shall be of no use to you — that I shall be a dead weight on your handle ." " You a dead weight! yon, who are formed to be now, really, without flat- tL'ry, yoii know there's no occasion for flat- tery between you and me — to be the soul, and, in time, the head of a party Stay ! — I know all you are going to say, but give me leave to judge — You know there's my own nephew, a very clever yoxing man, HO doubt, he is allowed to be j and yet, you see, I make no comparison between you. — I assure you, I am a judge in these matters, and you see the house has confirmed my VIVIAN. 431 judgment ; and, what is more — fori can keep nothing from you — if it won't make yoa too vain, and make you set too high a ■price upon yourself, which will he very troublesome in the present case ; hat, I say, be that as it may, I will frankly own to you, that I helieve you have been of essential service in procaring me this great, favourite object of my life, the marquisate." " I ! my lord, impossible ! — for I never took the slightest step toward procur- ing it." " Pardon me, you took the most eftectual step — without knowing it, perhaps. — You spoke so well, in opposition, that you made it the interest of ministry to muzzle you ; and there was no way so effectual of get- ting at you, as through me, I being your father-in-law, and you my heir. — Yon don't see the secret concatenation of these things with a glance, as I do, who have- been used to them so long. — And there was no way of coming to the point with me without the marc[nisate, that was my. sine qud non; and you see I gained my point — by your means, chiefly, I am free , to allow — though Marmaduke would a r 4tl VIVIAN. gladly persuade me it was bj his negotiati. ing; — bat I do you justice ; I did you JBxi tke, too, in more thaa wm-ds, when 1 sti-' pnlirted for that place for yon, which, in fact, I knew yoii could not s;o on mucb longer without, — So, my dear Vivian, alt this explained, to oar motuid satisfaetion^ we have nothing more to do, bnt to shake hands upon it, and go down stairs; for I have engaged myself and secretary to breakfast with you, and he has Jhll powers^ and is to cany back our capitulation — > And," continued lord Glistonbury, looking ont of the window — " here's our friend's carriage ." " Oh t my lord, it is not yet too late !" tried Vivian ; " it may yet be arranged otherwise — Is there no way — no possi- bihty? " A thundering knock at the hoose door. '^ I wish to Heaven, my lord ! " r • " So do 1 wish to Heaven, with all my ■ sogI, that you would Hnish this nonsense, ray dear Vivian, and come down to break- fast — Come, come, come ! — Hey, hey, . hey! — Tliis is ahsolntely too ridiculous, and I must go, if you don't. Only con- VIVIAN. 423 sider'a political breakfast of tbU ua- tare ." Lord Glistoobury han-ied down stairs ; reluctantly, and with a hea\y heart and repugnant conscience, Viviaa followed. At this instant, he wished for Rossell, to prevent what he knew wonld be the con- sequence of this interview. — But Russell was absent — the keeper of his conscience, the supporter of liis resolution, was not at hand — Wo to him, who is not the keeper of his own conscience — the supporter of his own resohition! The result of this political breakfast was just what every reader, who kno^vs the worhf but half as well as lord Ghstonbuiy knew it, has pro- bably long since anticipated. The cEipitn- lation of tlie patriots of the Ghstonbury band, with Vivian at their head, waa settled. Lord Glistonbury lost no charac- ter by this Irausact'ion, for he had noue to lose — he was ([uite at his ease, or t^iite callous. But Vivian bartered, for a paltry accommodation of his pecuniary difficulties, , a reputation, which stood high in the poh-- lie opinion — which was iuvalnable in bie- own — which was his last stake of happi- i ma* VIVIAN, ness. — He knew tliis — he felt k, with all^ the anguish of exquisite, hut useu^ss sen- sibility. Lord Glistonbury and his new friend,- secretary , who was a man of wit,; as well as a pohtician, rallied Vivian upon. his gravity, and upon his evident depression of spirits. "Really, my dear Vivian!" cried lord Glistonbury, " my patience is now ex- hausted, and I must not let you expose yourself here, before our friend, as a novice — Hey ! hey ! — Why, will you never open your eyes, and see the world as it is ? — Why ! what ! — Did you never read , the fable of tlie dog and his master's meat? — Well ! it is come to that now in England t and he is a.foolish dog, indeed, who, when he can't save the meat, won't secure his share — Hey ? " His lordship and the secretary laughed in concert. " Look, hoiv Vivian presen'es his solem- nity!" continued lord Glistonbury; "and he really looks as if he was surprised at us. My dear Vivian! it requires all my know- ledge of your bonne foi to believe, that you VIVIAN. 425 arfe in earnest, and not acting the part of a patriot of older times." "Oh!" cried the secrclary, with a face- tions air — " Mr. Viviau assuredly knows, as well as we do, that ' A patriot is a fool in ev'ry age. Whom all lord chamberlains alloiv tlie s'.uge.' But off' the stage we lay aside heroics, or how should we ever get on ? — Did you hear, my lord," continued the secretary, turning to lord Glistoubury, " that there i* another hlue riband fallen in to us by the . death of lord G * * * ? " " I had a great regard for poor lord Q # * *. — Many applications, I suppose, for the vacant riband ? " From the vacant riband, they went on to ■ talk over this man's pension and the other . man's job ; and considered, who was to get such and such a place, when such and such a person should resign, or succeed to something better. — Then all the miserable mysteries of ministerial craft were unveiled to Vivian's eyes — He had read, he had heard, he had believed, that public affairs were conducted in this manner ; but ha , L4aA VIVIAN. had nfver, till now, actoally seen h: -ho- was reiilly novice enough still to feel sur- prise at fisding, that, after all the 6oe pro- Tessions made on all sides, the main, ths only ohject of these poUticians, was to ke^ their own, or to get into the places of others. Vivian felt every moment his dis- gust aud hih melancholy increase " And it is with these people I have consented to act 1 And I am to he hnrried along, by this stream of corruption, to infamy and oblivion — -Then Russell ! .'* Vivian resolved to retract the engage- ment he had just made with lord Gliston- bury and the secretary, and he waited only for a pause in their conversation to explain himself. Butj before any pause occiirred, more company came in, the secretary hnr- ried away, saying to Vivian, who wonld have stopped him at the door-: — " Oh I my dear sir, every thing is settled now, and you must be with us in the house to night — and you will find the whole bu- siness will go on as smoothly as possible, if gentlemen will but act together (ind strengthen the hands of g-ovenmieut. — I pardott-for lareaking away— lmj^_, ^ VIVIAN. 427 many people are waiting for me — and any thing farther we can settle when we meet in the honse.** Lord Glistombnry atsQ refused to listen to farther explanations — said that all was settled, and that it was impossible to make any recantations. CHAPTER XV. 1 ►The hour of going to the house of com- mons at length arrived; lord Glistonbury saw that Vivian was so much out of spirits, and in such conftision of mind, he begao to fear that our hero's own account of him- self was just, and that he would not be able to commaod ideas, or even words, when he was to speak in opposition to what he called his principles and his conscience. — "This son of mine, instead of being our great ApoUo, will be a dead weight on our hands, unless wc can contrive to raise his spirits ." So, to raise his spirits, lord Glistonbury accompanied him to the coffee-room of the house, and insisted upon his taking some re- ireshment before he should attempt to speak. His lordship fortified him with bumper after bnmper, till at last Vivian , came up to the speaking point.— He took *'h\s seat in his new place in the house, and. VIVIAN. 429 «ndeavonring to brave away the seuse of shame, rose to sjieak. Notwithstanding the assistance of the wine, and the example of Mr. Marmaduke Lidhurst, who spoke he. fore him with undaunted assurance, Vivian could scarcely get on with a hesitating, contused, inconsistent speech, uttered iu so low and indistinct a voice, that the reporters in tlie gallery complained, that they could not catch this honourable mem- ber's meaning, or that his words did not reach them. Conscious of his failure, and still more conscious of it's cause, he retired again to the coffee-room, as soon as he had finished speaking, and again lord Glistonbury plied him with wine, saying, that he would find he B onld do very well hi reply presently. — It hajjpened, that lord Glistonbnry was called away — Vivian remained. Mr. "Wliartoii, with a party of his friends, entered the coffee-room. Wharton seemed much heated both mth wine and anger — he was talking eagerly to the gentlemen with hiro^ and he pronounced the words, " Infamonft[ conduct! — Shabby ! — Paltry fellow 1" — loud, that all the coffee-room turned t(f listen. Colonel S , a gentleman, whfj was oiie of Wbarton's pftrtyj bat had a ^ood opinion of ViTian, at this mo- (ment took him by the ai^, and, dranii^ ■biiii aside, whispered, in confidence, that ht; was persuaded th«re h;»d been some mistake in the anangcmente, which, asitM'as (reported, lord Clistoubory had jost made ■with ministry, for that Mr. Whiffton, and toiany of his lordship's fonlief party, conr- plained of having been shamefully deserted. ** And to break our wortl and honour to ttur party is a thing ho gentleman can do. %Vharton had a direct promise firoHi his loi-dsWp, that he neier wouk! iwne in till fie shoiild come tN along with him. And «ow it is confidently said, thnt lord Gliston- Imry has made his Iwirgain for his own niarqiiisate, and provifled only for hiuiseltj his nephew, and his son-in^aw." Thrown into tlic utmost consternation by the idea of this donbk- forfciture of honorrr, iliis breach both of public and private faith, ■Vivian, after thanking colonel S for liis friendly manner of communicating this in- fonnatton, and declaring, that the trans- ■ftction was totidly unknown to him, begged that the colonel would do him the favour VIVIAN. 431 Wid the justice to be jiresent when lie should require an explanation from lord GJiston- bury. To this colonel S consented, end they hastened in search of his lord- ship; his lordship was not to be found; hut Mr. Marniaduke Lidhurst was, however, in the coft'ee-rooni, and upon Vivian's refer- ring to him, he could not deny the truth of the charge, though he used iill his powtifi of circumlocution to evnde giving ti direct answer. The shame, the indignation, that rapidly succeeded to each other in Vivian's countenance, sufficiently convinced colonel S that he iiad no share in the private. part of this disgraceliil tninsaction; and he very handsoiaely assnrcd Vivian, diat "he would set the matter in it's true point of view with his fiieods." Marmaclukc soon - found a pretence to withdraw — some meni' her was speaking in the honse, whom he must hear, he said, and away he went. At this moment Mr. Wharton, who was walking down the room with his friends, ]jassed by Vivian, and, as he passe " Tliat private v/ces are public benefits, we all know; but that public vices are pri- vate benefits, some of us^ alas ! ha>-e yet to r 45S VIVIAN, learn. But I'd have that little, whiffling, most noble and puissant prince expectant, his majesty's j-ight tritsfi/, and entireli/ be- loved cousin elect, know, that plain Bob Wharton is not a man to be duped and de- serted n-ith impunity." "Who does he mean? — What does ha mean?" — whispered some of the bystanders. " What prince is he talking of"? — Which of the princes ? " "Oh 1 none of the princes," replied another. — "You know most noble and puissant prince is the title of a mar- quis, and our right trusty, and entirely beloved cousin, the style in which the king writes to liira." " But, who is this marquis expectant?" " Don't you know? — Lord Glistonbury." " But some of his lordship's friends ought to take it up, surely I" " Hush! — his son-in-law will hear you." "Where?" " There — don't look!" Vi^'ian was, with reason, so much exas- perated, by the treaeherouB duplicity of lord Glistonbury'a conduct, that he was ill clined to midertake his lordship's defence, and determined to lea^e it._to himself or t»_, VIVIAN.- 433 nephew; j-et tlie whispers operated not a little upon his weakness. Wharton, who was walking with his set up and down the room, again came within Vivian's hearin{|^. and, as he passed, exclaiined — " Public vice! and public tirtncf pre- vious, well matched pair!" ' " Who is public vice, and M-ho is public virtue?'" said one of Wharton's conip;i- nious. " Don't ton know?" replied Wharton — " The heir at law and the son-in-law." ' On hearing this speech, Vivian, whw knew that he was one of the pei-sons, ti* whom it aJInded, started forward to demand an explanation from Wharton ; but colo- ,nel S held him back. " You ar^ -not called upon, l)j' any means, to take notice of this," said the colonel : " Wharton did not address himself to you, and, though he might mean what he said for you, yet he speaks under a false impre.?sion; and, hesjdcs, he is not quite sober. Leave it te me, and I will settle it all to your satisfaction before to morrow." Vivian listened unwil- lingly and uneasily to the friendly counsel : he was more hurt, than he had ever before VIVIAN. felt liimself, by any of Whartoa's sarcasms, becau&e there was. how in tliem a niixtxire of truth ; and a man itidom fetls more ir- ritable, thim when he U conscioos that he ij partly to blaine, and apprehensive that others will think him more hlamahle than he really is. His irritability was increased by the whiejwrs he had heard, aad the looks he now perceived among the bystanders ; the voice, the opinion of numbers, the fear of what others wonld think or say, ope- rated against his better judgment. " Come," sqid colonel S — ■ — , " let us go and see what tfcey are doing in the honse." Vivian refused to atir, saying, that it would be leaving the field to Wharton. Wharton, at the instant, repassed; and, still running the changes, with half intoxi- cated wit, upon the same ideas, reiterated-*- " Public vice ! — We all knew where iJuti %vouId end, in these days — in public ho- noui's; but, none of you would believe me, when I told you where public virtue would end^n private treachery! " '^ That's neat! — that's strong I — faith, that's home ! " whispered some one. " Mr- WhaitoB ! " crjed Vivian, going \' I V 1 A N. 4^3 tip to ItiiQ, " I could not help bearing wbat you said just now. — Did you intend it -for me?" " Yoii beard it, it seeuis, sir, and that ie sufficient," replied Wliarton, iu an iusoleut toue: " as to wbat I uieaat, 1 presuiuc it is pretty evident ; but, if you think it inquires any explanation, 1 am as ready to give, as you caai be to ask it." " Tbe sooner tbe better, then, sir," sal^ ViviaiL Tbe twogeotlepienwalked away together, whilst the spectators exclaimed, " Very apirited, iudeed !— very right I — very proper ! — Vivian could dp po less than call hun out. — But, after all, what was the quarrel about ?— Which of tlieni was to btauie ?" Long before theae pointi were settled, the challenge was given and accepted. Co- Ipnel S , who followed \''ivian and Wharton, endeavoured to set things to ■ lights, by explaining, tliat Vivian h^d hceu deceived by lord Glistonbury, and kept to- tally in the dark re(,pecting the negotiation for the martjuisate. But Wharton, aware that by taking up the matter immediately in suck a spirited wat/, he should do himself V3 infinite hononr with his party, iind with that ' majority of the world, who think that the greatest merit of a man is to stand to be shot at, was not at all willing to listen to these re- prepentations. Colonel S declared, that, were he in Mr. Wharton's place, lie should, without hes-itation, miike an apology to Mr. Vivian, and publicly acknowledge, that what he said in the coffee-room was sjtoken under a false impression, which a plain statement of facts has totally removed; but Wharton disdained all terms of accommodation ; his policy, pride, and desire of revenge, all conspired to produce that air of insolent determination to fight, which, with some people, would obtain the glorious name of COURAGE. By this bort of courage, can men of the most base and profligate cha- racters often put themselves, in a moment, upon an equal footing with men of prin- ciple and virtue ! It was settled, that Mr. Wharton and Vivian should meet, at eight o'clock the next morning, in a field near toivn. Co- lonel S consented to be Vivian's se- cond. Kussell was not yet returned, not expected till ten the nest day. VIVIAN. 43? Left to his cool rtflection, Vivian thought, with hoiTonr, of the misery, into which the event of this duel might involve all with whom he was connected, and all who were attached to him. — The aflliir was, of fonrse, to he kept a secret from all at Glis- tonbury House, where Vivian was engaged to dine with a large ministerial party. He went home to dress : ho[)ing to have a quarter of an hour to himself, he dismissed his servant, who was waiting in an anti- chamber, sayingj that lie would ring when he wanted him; but, on entering liis own dressing-room, he, to his surprise and mor- tification, found his wife seated there, wait- ing for him with a face of anxious expecta- tion ; a case of new set diamonds on a table beside her. " I thought you were at your father's, my dear! — Are not you to he at Glistonbury House to day?" said Vivian. " No," replied lady Sarah. " Surelv, Mr. Vivian, you know that my father gives a political dinner, and I suppose you are to be there?" "Oh, yes!" cried Vivian; '■' I, did not know what I was saying — I am to be there. i 438 VIVIAN. and mnst dress," (looking at his uatct,) ' for J have no time to spsire — — ." " Be tiiat ns it may, J mnst ifitmde fipOn youf tiitte for a few minutes," said lady Sarah. Vivian stood iinpatitntly attentive, whilst lady Sarah seemed to find it difticiilt to begin some speech, which tsht; had prepared. " Women, 1 know, have nothing to do with politics" — She began in a constraintd voice ; Imt, suddenly quitting her air and tonfe of conetraint, she started up, and ex- claimed — *' Oh, ray dear, dear husbftnd I what hftve yon done ? — ■ — No, no, I cannot, ■will not be- lieve it, till 1 hear it from your own lipsl" — • " What is the matter, my dear hidy Sarah?— You astonish, and almost Hiarni meV-^said Vivian, endeavoun'ng to pre- serve composure of countenance. "I will not. — Heaven forbid, that I should alann you, as I have been alarmed!" said lady Sarah, commanding her "Vflice again to a tone of tranquillity. -^ I OUghtj and, if I were not weak, should he con- vinced, that there is no reason for alarm. VIVIAN. 439 TUtre has been some mistake, no donht; and I have been to hlaoie for listening to idle feports. Let me, however, state the facts. Half an Iioiir ago, I was at Gray's the jeweller's, to call for my potir mother't diamonds, which, yoa know, he liu« rcscl— i "Yes— Well?"' '■ And, whilst I was in the ^hop, a party of gentlemen came in, all of them unknown to me, and, of conrse, I was ccjnp un- known to them ; for they began to speak of you in a manner, in which none know- ing me conld venture in my presence. — They came fresh, as T understood, from the gallery of the house, where they had been listening to this day's debate. They said 1 cannot bear to repeat or to think of what they 8aid You cannot have bar- tered your public repntation for a mar*- quisate for my father? You eaimot - have done that, which is dishonourable-^ you cannot have deserted yonr party for a paltry place for yonrsell! — ■ — You turn pale, — I wish, if it pleased God, that 1 wa» this moment in my gi-ave! " "Heaven forbid, my dear lady Sarah!" cried Vivian, forcing a emile, and endes>- .^ k ,)U0 VIVIAN. VCTiring; to speak in a tone of raillery. "Why fihoold you wish to he in your grave, be- ciiuse your husband has just got a good, warm place? Live! live!" said he, rais- ing her powerless hand; " for consider — as I did — and this consideration was of no small weight with me — consider, my dear Sarah, how much better you "ill live for it!" *' An «gony. u 5 a ■ i4« VIVIAN. I "Never too late ! " cried Ifttly Sarah-" " Give up the place.— Never too late ! — Give Dp the place — write this moment, and all will be well ; for your honour will be saved, and the rest is as nothing in ray eves ! " " High-minded woman!" cried Vivian— " Why did not I hear yon sooner? — Why did not I avail myself of your strength of sottl?* " Use it now — hear me now — let as waste no time in words — here is pen and ink — write, my dearest husband ! and he yourself again." " You waste the energy of yottr mind on me," cried Vivian, breaking from lady Sa- nib, and striking his forehead violently ; "nUani not worthy of iuch attachment -^ it is done — it cannot be undone — 1 am a weak, ruined, dishonoured ^vretch ! — 1 tell you, it CANNOT be undone ! — " Lady Sarah rose, and stood in desjpair. Then, looking op to Heaven, she was silent for some moments. After which, ap- proaching her husband, she said, in an al- tered, calm voice — " Since it cannot be un- done, I will urge you no more. But, whe- ther in glory or in shame, you are seCUre that yoxii wiie will a\i\de \)-^ -^ou." VIVIaW. 443 : Vivian «nbraced her with a tenderness, , which he had never befoi-e felt. " Excel- ^ lent woman ! in justice to myself, I must tell you," ciied he, " that I was deceived into this situation. — I can say no more!" At this moment, a servant knocked aX the door, bringing a message from lord Glistonbury, to say, thi>t all the company were assembled, and that dinner waited for Mr. Vivian, " You are not in a fit state to go. Shall i send an apology to my father i" " Oh^ no I — I must go," cried Vivian, ! starting up — " I must go, or it will be thoHght — or it will be suspected- — I can't explain it to you, my dear; but 1 mubt go — I must appear to day, and in spirits, too, if possible." He hnrried away. A servant delivered to lady Sarah a number of notes and curds. The notes were notes of eongratnlation, from many of her acquaintance, upon the i report iu circulation, that her father iras immediately to be a marquis. The cards ' were from people who were to be at her as- sembly that night, Tliis was one of her nightst wiiich wece usually crowded. Lady pMl Sarah's first wish wfis to write apologies, and to say, that she was not well enough to see company ; but, recollecting that her husband had said, " he mnst appear, and in spiritis, too, il'possiblej" she thought, that , it might be more tor tlieir interest, and ac- cording to his wishes, that she should see company, and that no appearance of de- jection should he discerned in his wife. She prepared herself accordingly, and, ivith a heavy heart, walked through her splendid apartuicnts, to see whether the decorations had been properly executed, In the mean time, ViWaii dined at lord Glistonbury's, with a large ministerial party. As soon as he conld, after dinner, V'iviao got away, ami lord tilistonbnry attributed his retiring early to the awkwardness h« might feel in the company of men, whom he had, tilt now, so violently opposed. This his lordship thought a foolish jfoung man's Jhelhtgy which would soon wear away. Vivian retumed to his own house, anxious to escape from crowds, and to have some hours of leisure to p:iss alone ; but, the mo- ment he entered his own house, he saw the great staircase lined with roses and orange- f I V I A N. 445 trees ; he found the rooms lighted up, and prepared for company; and lady Sarah dressed, for the first thne, in all her mo- ther's dianiouds. " Good Heavens ! — Do yon see company to night r " cried he. " Yes ; for I thought, my dear, t!iat you would wish it." " I wish it 1 — Oh ' if you knew how 1 wish to be alone' — " " Then, as no one is yet come, I can stiU shut my doors, and order them to say, that am not well enough to see company — I am sure it is tnie. Shall I ? " " No, my dear, it is too late ;'' said V am afraid tt is impossible for you to do that.' *' Not impossible, if you M'lsh it." " Welf, do as yoa pleiLse." " Which is most' for your interest? — I have no other pleasure." " You are too guod to me, and I fear I^ ishall never have it in my power to show you any gratitude " '* But decide which is best to be done, .my dear," said lady Sarah. '* Why, my dear, ! believe you judged rightly — Sec your friends, and make the ■i MB VIVIAK. best of it — But I can appear only for a mo- ment; 1 have buBitiess of fOnseriuence — letters — pajrers — that must be fioisfaed to night; and I must now go to my study." " You shaJI not be interrupted," said lady Sarah — "1 will exert myself as much ak possible ^ A thandering knock at the door. — Vi- vian passed through the saloon, and guined his study; where, after remaining for some time, in painfiil reflection, he was roused by hearing the clock strike tivelve. He re- collected, that he had several arrangements^ to make in his afiuirs this night; and that it Hvas incumbent on him to sign and execute a will, which had been for some time in his possession, with certain blanks not yet filled up. His wile was, by his marriage settlements, amply provided for ; btit he in- serted in his will some clauses, which he thought would add to her peculiar comfort, and took care to word them so, tliat his re- spect and esteem should be known hereafter to all the world ; and thiit, if he died, he should leave her the consolation of know- ing, that his lost feelings for htl' were those of gratitude and affection. — — To his mo- VIVIAN. 447 tber, be left all that was in his powet to contribute to the ease of her declining years — often obliged to pause whilst he wrote, o^-ercome by the thoughts of what her grief n-onld be if he died. He left his friend Russell, m remainder, to a consider- able part of his estate ; and he ivas just adding the bequest of certain books, which ihej' had read together in his better days, when the door of the study suddenly open- ed, and hig niotlier entered. " Wfiiit is all this?" n-ied she — " Im- mersed in papers at such a time as this '." " I so hate crowded assemblies," said Vi- dian, huddling his papers together, and ad*- vancing to meet his mother. "So do I," said lady Mary; "but I bare been waiting, with exemplary patience, where I was stationed by lady Sarah, at the card-table, every instant expecting vour ar- rival, that I might have a few minutes' con- Tersation with you, and inquire how matters went on at the house, andcongratuiate " Before she had finished the word congra- tulate, she stopped short ; for she had, fay thii time, a fill! liew of her son's counte- nance : and ebe knew that countenance so &18 VIVIAN. weU, that it was impossible to disguise it so as to deceive her maternal penetration. "My dear son!" said she, ■** something is going wrong; I conjure you, tell me what is the matter?" — Her eye glanced upon the parchments, and she saw that it was a will. Vivian forced a langh, and asked her, if she had th^ weakness some people felt of disliking to see a will, or of fancying, that a man was going to die if he made his will. Then, to quiet her appre- hensions, and to put a stoji to her Farther incjuiries, he threw aside his papers, and rctnrned with hct' to the company, where he exerted himself to appear as gay as the oc- casion required. Lord GHstonhury, who had called in for a few moments, wa.s now playing the great man, as well as bis total want of dignity of mind and manners would permit ; he was answering, in whis- pers, questions Jibout his marquisate, and sustaining, with all his might, his new part of the friend of government. — Every tfalng conspired to strike Vivian with melan- choly — yet he constrained himself so far, that his charming spirits delighted all, who were uninterested in observing any but the VIVIAN. 449 external signs of gayety ; bnt his mother saw that his viviicity was forced. She made intjuiries from all tlic gentlemen of her ac- quaiatance, about what had pttssed the pre- t'eding day, Iwtli at the house of commons, and to day, at the dinner at lord GUston- hury's s Irat those, who had been at lord Glistonbury's dinner, assuredher, that every thing had been as amicable as could be ; and his ministerial friends said, that every thing had gone oil as smoothly as possible at the house: of what had passed between ^ Mr. Wharton and Vivian in the coffee- room, nobodj/ could give her an account. Baffled, but not satisfied, the anxious mo- ther sent to the hotel, where Mr. Russell lodged, to inquire, whether lie was re- turned to town, and to beg to see him hn- niediately. From him, sbe thought, she should learn the truth; or, by his influence over her son, she hoped, that, if there was any danger of a qnarrel, it might be in time prevented. Her servant, however, brought word, that Mr. Kussell was not expected from the country till ten o'clock the next morning ; but that her note would be given to hxax directly ou bis arrivaj^ — .She.apr ^tW VIVIAN. plied herself next to tbe study of her datigbter's counienance, whilst she asked two or three qaestioos^ calculated to disco- ver, whether lady Sarah was tinder any anxiety about Vivian. But, though lady Sarah's countenance exhibited not the fitighteEt Viiriution nnder this trial, yet this tranquillity was by no means decisively sa- tisfactory ; because, whatever might be hef hltemal agitation, she knew that lady Sa- rah could maintain the same countenance. Lady Sarah, who plainly discerned her mo- ther's anxious curiosity, thought it her doty to keep bcT husband's secrets ; and, iraftgio- ing that she knew the whole truth, was not farther alarmed by these hints, nor did they lead her to suspect tbe real state of lh« taiBe. Lady Mary was, at length, tolerably well satisfied, by a conversation with her son i during the course of which, she settled, ift her lUiagtnatiun, that he hiid only been in- «erting in his will a bequest to his friend Kussellt and that the depression of his epirits arose from the Gtniggle he had had in determining to vote against his patriotic ideas. She rose to depart ; and Vivian, as VIVIAN. 451 he conducted her down stairs, and put her into her carriage, could scarcely repress his feelings ; and he took so tender a leave of her, that all her apprehensions revived ; but there was a, cry of " Ladi/ ■'— somebody's carriage ! " and lady Mary's coachman drove *>n immediately, without giving her time for one Word more. After his mottier's departure, Vivian, instead of i-etnming to the company, ■went to his study, and took this opportunity of finishing his will; but, as the servants mr« all in attendance at supper, he could not get any body to witness it i and for this he was obliged to wait till a very late hour, when all the company, at last, departed. The rattle of carriages at length died away i And, when all was silence, just as he was about to ring for his witnesses, he heard lady Sarah's step coming along the corri- dor towards the study : he went out imme- diately to meet her, drew her arm within his affectionately, and took two or three tnros with her up aad down the empty saloon, whilst a servant was extinguishing the lights. Vivian's wind was so full, that he could not speak ; and he was scarcely conscious that he had not spoken, t^ll lady A [4li93 VIVIAN. Stirali broke the sileace, l)y as'kiiig if he had finished his business. " No, my dear, I liave more to do yet; but you will obUge nie, if you ivill go to to rest — You must he fatigued — uiind and body ■" " Jou seem fatigued almost to death," said lady Sstrah ; " and cannot you finish the re- mainder of your business as well to nior- Irow ?" "No," replied Vivian — " it must be fi- nished before to moirow. — 1 am bound in duty to finish it before to morrow." " If it is a point of duty, I have no more to say," replied lady Sarah — "but," — fontinned she, in a tone of proud humi- lity — "but if I might so far intrude upon your confidence, as to inquire -" " Make no inquiries, my dear ; for I can- not answer any, even of yours " — said Vi- vian — "And let me beg of yoo to go to rest; my mind will then be more at ease. — - ■ I cannot command my thoughts, whilst 1 am anxious about you; and 1 am anxious — ^ more anxious than ever I was in my life — about you at this moment. You will oblifQ me, if you will go to rest." " 1 CAN-NOT rest, but I will leave you, since you desire it — I have no idle curi- osity — Good night !" " Good night! and thank you, once more, ray excellent wife, for all your kindness." "There cannot be a better woman!" said Vivian to himself, as she retired. — *' Why have I not loved her, as she de- served to be loved ? — Weak ! — alas ! weak in every thing! — But what a pity, that, %vith all her virtues, she has, to the whole world but me, such ungracious manners! What a pity, that, with such powers to bear and torbear, she has so little the talent of pleas- ing! What a pity, that a too rigid educa- tion has prevented her from being as agree- able and amiable as she is estimable. — But it ill becomes me to blame any one but my- self! — If I live, I will do my utmost to make her happy — If I live, I will yet repair all. — And, if I die, she will have but little reason to deplore the loss of such a hus- band ." Vivian now executed his will — wrote several letters of business — burnt letters — arranged papers — regretted that Ritssell, who was to be his executor, was not near 4M VIVIAN. him —made mauy bitter reflections on the past, many good resolutions for the futurt, in case he should survive ; then, over- powered with fatigue ot" mind, slept for some time, aad was wakened by the clock's strik- ing seven. By eight o'clock, he was at the place appointed — Mr. Wlimton appeared a* few minutes afterwards. Their secontb having measured out the distance, they took tlieir ground. As Vivian hnd given the chalkuge, Wharton bad the first tire — He fired —Vivian staggered some paces hack, fired his pistol into the air, and telh The seconds ran to his assistance, and raised him from the ground. The bullet had entered his chest. He stretched out his hand to Mr. Wharton, in token of forgive- ness, and, as soon as he could speak, desired the seconds to remember, that it was gave the challenge, and that he thought he desers'ed to bear the blame of the quarrel. Wharton, callous as he was, seemed struck with pity and remorse : he asked what friends Vivian would wish to have apprised of his situation. A surgeon was in attendance. Vivian, faint from loss of Idood, just pro- nounced Kussell's name, and the name of V 1 V 1 A N. 455 the hotel where he was to he found, adUiiig, ** nobody else." Wharton rode off, under- taking to find Mr. Russell ; and Vivian was carried into a Httle public-bouse, by the orders of the surgeon, who thought that he could not bear the motiou of a carriage. Wharton met Mr, Hussell, who was coming from town. He had come to London earlier than he had intended, and, in consequence of lady Slary Vivian's notCj which he had received immediately on his at'rival, had made such inquiries, as convinced him tliat her apprehensions were just; and, having discovered the place where the parties were to meet, he had hastened thither, in hopes of preventing tlie fatal event. The moment he saw Mr. Wharton, he knew that he was too late. Without lusking any other queir tion than, " Is Viviao alive?" he preseed forwards. The surgeon, who was the next person he saw, gave him no hopes of his friend's recovery ; hut laid he might last till night, or linger, perhaps, for a day or two. Vivian had, by this tim^i recovered his senses and his speech ; but, when Rus^ sell entered the room where be lay^ be was 456 V n- 1 A N. BO mncli struck liy tlic grief in Russell's ConntcDauce, that lie could not recollect any one of tlic many things be had to say. — Kussell, the tirni Rnssell ! was now ciuite overcome. " Yes, my dear friend," said Vivian, ** this is the end of all your care — of all your hopes of me 1 — Oh, my poor, poor mother! What will become of her ! Where can we find consolation for her ! — Yon and Selina Sid- ney! Yoa know how fond my mother was of her — how fond she was of my mother — till I, the cause of evil to iUl my friends, se- parated them. You must reunite them. You must repair all. This hope — this hope of your happiness, my beloved friends, will sooth my last momenta ! How much happier Selina will he with yon, than " Russell sobbed alond. — " Yes, yield to your feelings, for I know how strong they are," said Vivian — " you, that have always felt more for me, than I have cier frit for myself! But it is well for you, that my life ends; for I have never been any thing hot a torment and a disgrace to you ! — And yet VIVIAN. 457 I had good dispositions ! — But there is not tUiie for regret about myself ; I have others to think of, better worth thinking of — ." Vivian called for pen, ink, and paper, had himself raised in his bed, and supported, whilst he wrote to Selina, and to his mother. " Do not stop me ! " cried he to Russell — " It is the only act of friendship — the only thing I can do in this world now with plea- sure, and let me do it — ." His notes contained nearly what he had jnst said to Russell — He put tliem open into his friend's hand; then, good natured to the last, Vivian took up his j)en again, with no small difficulty, and wrote a few affectionate words to his wife. " She well deserves this flora me," said he. " Be a friend to her, Russell — When I am gone, she will, I know, want consolation." After Russell had assured him, that he would do alt h« desired, Vivian said, " J believe tliere is no one else in the world, who will regret nij- death, except, perhaps, lady Julia Lidhurst. How generous she was to forgive me ! — Tell her, I remembered it when 1 was dying 1 — Weakness, weakness of mind I VOL. IV. X A VIVIAN. flie canse of all my errours 1 Oh, Rm- Bell ! how well you knew nie from the first t — But all is over now! — My experience can be of no use to me — I wish it could he useful to others — There are thousands of young men like me. Every thing swims before my eyes. One comfort is, I have not the hlood of u feltow-crenture to answer for. — My greatest crrour was making that profligate man my friend — he was my vain. — I little thought, a few years ago^ that I should die hy his band — but I forgive him, a,s I hope to he forgiven my- self! — Is the clergyman, who was sent for, rome ? — My dear Riisseil I this would be too severe a task for you. — He is come ? — Then let me see him ." Vivian was left, for some time, to liia private devotions. The clergyman after- wards summoned Russell to return t he found his friend calmeil and resigned. Vivian stretched out his hand — thanked him once more — and expired ! " Oh ! worthy of a better fate ! " thought Russell. — " With such a heiu-t ! — With such talents' — And so young!- — With wily one fanit — and no TJcel— ^'<^. VIVIAN. 4.->9 my friend 1 is it all over ^ — and all in vain ? >' Vivian'ymother and widow arrived just at this moment ; and Russell, and lord Glistonbnry, who followed breathless, could not stop them from ciitering the apartment. The mother's grief bordered on disti'action ; but it found relief in tears and cries — ^Lady Sarah shed no tear, and uttered no excla- mation ; but advancing, insensible of all opposition, to the bed, on which hw dead husband lay, tried whether there was any poise, any breath lei't ; then knelt down beside him, in silent devotion. — Lord Glis- tonbury, striking his forehead continually, and striding up and down the room, re- peated, "I killed liim ! — Ikiiledhiml — I was the cause of his deatli ! — Wy victim t — My ^nctim ! — But take her away ! — - Take her away — I cannot. — For mercy's sake, force her away, Mr. Kussell ! Then I must ." " There is ho need of force," said lady Sarah, rising, as her father approached % " J am going to leave my husband for ever," Then, turning to Mr. Rnssell, she inqiiiredj if his friend bad left any mes- [sage or letter for her — desired to see t fke letter — retired with it — still tvith- oat shedding a tear — a few hours after- wards was tiikeii ill, and, before night, was delivered of a dead son. Lady Sarah survived, but has oever since appeared ia what is called the world. Both RuEsell aud miss Sidney were so much shocked, by the death of Vivian, that they coiild not, for sonic time, think on any other subject. The hope, however, that their union may he effected, and the belief that they may yet be as happy, as their united virtnes and strength of mind deserve, is the consoling idea upon which, after so many melancholy events, the mind of the iiomane reader may repose. £ND OF VOL. XV, ■ PnBl Prieted b; C Wood, fDppin's Couct, Fleet Street. 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