THE EFFECT OF THE POSTSCRIPTUM.
"Women have died and the worms have eaten them, but not for love."
Long, long did poor Lilian grieve and weep, and mourn in the solitude
of her gloomy home.
She endured all the complicated agony of endeavouring to rend from
her heart its dearest and most wonted thoughts--the hopes and
affection she had fostered and cherished for years. No woman ever
died for love but the heroine of a romance; so Lilian of course
survived it; a month or two beheld her again tranquil and calm,
though very sorrowful and subdued in spirit, for time cures every
grief.
The bitter sentiment of insulted pride and mortified self esteem
which often come so powerfully to the aid of the deserted, and enable
them to triumph over the more tender and acute reflections, were
kindled and fanned and fostered by the artful sophistry of Annie,
who, with her real condolences, threw in such nice little soothing
and flattering inuendoes, mingled with condemnations of Walter, and
pretended rumours of his marriage, the beauty and gallantries of his
French wife, whom some called a countess and others a courtesan, that
Lilian first learned to hear her patiently and then with indignation.
With these were mingled occasional praises of Clermistonlee, managed
with great tact, for Annie was cunning as a lynx, and never failed to
flank all her arguments with the powerful one, how necessary it was
for the restoration of her own honour, that she should receive the
roué lord as her husband.
Poor Lilian, though these advices stung her to the soul, learned at
last to hear and to think of them with calmness, and (shall we
acknowledge it?) to say at last, "that it might be."
With something of that fierce sentiment of desperation and revenge
which, like a gage thrown down to fate, makes the ruined gamester
place his last stake on the turn of a card, she began deliberately to
school herself into thinking of Clermistonlee as her future husband;
and though in reality poverty was the real cause of it, Lady
Craigdarroch failed not to impress upon Lilian how much he was
reformed, how penitent he was, and for three years past had never
been engaged in any piece of frolic or wickedness, and wound up by
asserting that a reformed rake made the best husband.
What love and perseverance could never accomplish, revenge achieved
at last.
"Alas! the love of women, it is known,
To be a lovely and a fearful thing;
For all of theirs upon the die is thrown
And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring."
Long and assiduous were the exertions, the arguments and artifices of
Annie, and long and fearful was the struggle that tortured the heart
of Lilian, ere she would consent to receive Clermistonlee as her
suitor.
At last the fatal words were said.
Annie flew to communicate the joyous tidings, and when next day he
rode up the avenue to pay his devoirs, the miserable girl nearly
swooned. The ring, the little embossed ring of antique gold, the
last and only gift of Walter, and which he said contained _the
secret_ of his life, she had now laid aside, carefully locked up in a
cabinet, because it brought too vividly before her the memories she
had resolved to banish from her heart for ever.
Gladly will we hurry over this chapter of pain and humiliation.
Clermistonlee had increased his great personal advantages by all the
aid of dress, and in defiance of the sad coloured fashions of the
time, wore a voluminous Monmouth whig, the long curls of which were
puffed with aromatic powder, a suit of rose-coloured velvet, laced so
thick with gold that the ground of the cloth was scarcely visible, a
sword and belt sparkling with jewels. A medal of gold, bearing his
coat of arms, was suspended by a chain of the same metal round his
neck; it was his last venture in quest of fortune, and his lordship
had resolved to spend all he possessed upon the stake.
By the artful Annie he was led forward to the trembling and sinking
Lilian, to whom he pleaded his cause, his constancy, and
perseverance, his raptures and agonies, his hopes and despair, with
an ardour that confused, and perhaps flattered, if it did nothing
more. These his lordship brought out all at a breath, as he had got
the whole by rote, having said the same things to a hundred different
women before; but now his natural ardour and spirit of gallantry were
greatly increased by the touching character which sorrow, vexation,
and disappointment had imparted to the soft beauty of Lilian--and
also by the aspect of the comfortable old manor house and the acres
of fine arable land that lay around it; while she (shall we confess
it?), as bitter thoughts of Walter and his French wife rose up within
her, stole glances from time to time at her noble and courtly
suitor--glances which he soon perceived, and fired with new
animation, threw such an air of devotion into his addresses that
he--triumphed.
Annie placed the hand of Lilian within that of Clermistonlee; he
pressed her to his heart, and she did not withdraw it; but burst into
a passion of tears. He then threw his splendid chain, with its
medal, around her bending neck, and pressed her to his breast, and so
sudden was the revulsion of feeling that Lilian fainted.
An hour afterwards Clermistonlee, with all his embroidery glittering
in the sun, was seen galloping back to the city like a madman; he
dashed through the Portsburgh, and reined up near the Bowfoot, where,
at the summit of a ten-storied edifice, dwelt Mr. Ichabod Bummel,
minister of the Gospel.
"The father of confusion take your long stair! Why, Mr. Bummel, 'tis
like a rascally old steeple," said the lord, breaking breathlessly in
upon the lank-haired and long-visaged pastor, who was intent upon
"The Hind let loose" of Alexander Sheills.
"Yea, a tower of Babel--but what hath procured me the honour of your
lordship's visit?"
"By all the devils, don't think I am come to drub thee for that
lecture on the cutty stool--ha, ha! I am about to be married,
man--and want you to proclaim the banns and so forth--but my Lord
Mersington will see after them for me."
"As my _Bombshell_ saith, marriage is an honourable and godly
estate----"
"But a deuced poor one, sometimes, Mr. Ichabod. I am about to be
married to Lilian, of Bruntisfield, and thou shalt espouse us,
because the citizens hold thee to be their first preacher, and it
will increase my influence among them."
"But, my Lord," began Mr. Ichabod, bowing.
"_But_ me nothing--'tis my non-attendance at kirk and my old tricks
you aim at--pho! I am a thorough Reformado--but, Mr. Ichabod, hast
never a drop of wine about thee?--'tis a hot forenoon."
"My dwelling contains nothing but water, and it is a plack the runlet
in these dear years; but, my Lord," continued the divine, after
sundry gasps and contortions of visage, "if I lend all my influence
to render popular this intended espousal, whilk I perceive to be the
main object of your visit, may I crave your Lordship's favour in
another particular?"
"Command me in all things save my purse, for 'tis a mere vacuum, if
thy philosophy will admit of such a thing. Say forth, my Apostle!"
"I love the maiden called Meinie Elshender--yea, I love her
powerfully with the carnal love of this world, and the maiden is not
altogether indisposed to view me favourably."
"Zounds!" said Clermistonlee, while the minister looked complacently
down on his long spindle shanks; "in the name of mischief, who is
Meinie Elshender?"
"Handmaiden to the young Madam Lilian, who views me as an
abomination----"
"By all the devils, thou shalt have her, _bongré, malgré_, and after
I am fairly wedded, the best kirk in the Lothians to boot--even
should I make Juden shoot the present incumbent."
"Heaven reward these generous promises," replied Ichabod, with a
smile of incredulity. "Well it is that the maiden hath escaped the
snares of her first lover, who was a soldier of Antichrist--a
musqueteer of the bluidy Dunbarton."
"Say rather the most princely earl of the noble house of Douglas!
Ha, ha--by my faith! we whigs are winning the false lemans of the
cavaliers in glorious style."
"And now, my lord, I have one other boon to crave," said Ichabod,
producing a tattered and dog-eared MS. from a bunker. "This is a
book of which doubtless your Lordship hath heard; my _Bombshell aimet
at the taile of the Great Beast_."
"Oh, the devil take thy bombshell--"
"Shame, my lord. It proveth that Jonah--"
"Swallowed the whale; eh, Master Ichabod?" said the gay lord,
pirouetting about and laughing boisterously.
"Oh, my Lord, for a centiloquy--"
"Ha, ha! a what?"
"A hundredfold discourse, to convince thee of the crime of this
irreverence and irreligion."
"I crave pardon, but what do you want, eh?"
"Your Lordship's subscription; 'tis to be published in the imprinting
press in the Parliament Close, whenever new irons are brought over
from Holland."
"Oh, by all the devils, certainly; send me a dozen of copies. Faith!
I must be quite pious henceforth. And now, bravo! see the Kirk
Session about my little affairs, while I ride down the Lawnmarket to
old Gideon Grasper, the Clerk to the Signet, for there will be a
mountain of papers to sign and seal, and so forth; but the banns, the
banns, next Sunday, remember;" and chaunting, "With a hey lillelu and
a how lo lan," his lordship danced away out, tripping down the long
stair by three steps at a time, and mounting, galloped into the upper
part of the city.