FINAL DEVELOPMENT OF A DANGEROUS SYSTEM.
Whatever confidence Lord Glenmore felt in possessing the full and
undivided affections of Lady Glenmore, yet the particulars of such a
disclosure as had come to light, of her intimacy with Leslie Winyard,
could not fail, for a long period, to throw a gloom on his existence;
and gave birth to a feeling, that the happiness which he had hitherto
contemplated as unclouded was now obscured by some of those shades
which are incident to all human enjoyments, and which are wisely
ordered to wean us, perhaps, from a world we might otherwise love too
well.
Convinced, however, that Lady Glenmore had been timely saved from
falling a prey to circumstances arising out of the nature of the
society into which she was thrown, and which he could not help
considering were in a great measure the result of his own want of
forethought and care, he felt assured that the decision he had come to
was as much his _duty_, as his heart told him it was his _desire_.
To withdraw Lady Glenmore from that circle was nevertheless no easy
task. Habits of conventional dissipation are seldom broken through
without producing a mutual aversion between the parties. From this
feeling, on the part of her former associates, it was his anxious wish
to guard Lady Glenmore; for he felt that to a young and inexperienced
heart there can be no greater temptation to return to error, than to
be exposed to those sneers and contemptuous remarks which the world of
folly is ever ready to apply when it finds itself tacitly reproved.
While, therefore, Lady Glenmore remained exposed, as she must of
necessity be for a season, to the casual society of Lady Tenderden,
Lady Tilney, and the rest of that party, it would have been impolitic,
with the views Lord Glenmore entertained, for him to have adopted any
very marked change in his own or Lady Glenmore's outward deportment
towards them. But he laid a sure and better foundation of future
propriety in the conduct of his wife, by developing to her the dangers
and awful consequences which, now that his fears had been timely
awakened, he saw existed in the mode of life and peculiar society in
which they had hitherto taken a part.
Struck with dismay at the contemplation of the picture he drew, and
while there was no reason to appeal further than to her own good sense,
Lord Glenmore felt convinced that the veil had been seasonably removed
from _her_ eyes as well as _his own_; and that, with a conviction of
the danger which surrounded her, and with affections firmly fixed upon
himself, he might discard all fear for the future on _her_ account.
In regard to her acquaintance, however, with Mr. Leslie Winyard, a
more decided line was necessarily taken; and although this step gave
rise to some whispers among the younger and more licentious part of
the society, and elicited innuendos from Leslie Winyard himself, under
which, with real baseness, he sought to conceal the mortification of
his abrupt dismissal, yet the more prudent of the _coterie_ rejoiced in
the circumstance, as averting the danger of a _public scandal_ which
threatened them.
Amongst this number Lady Tilney was loud in dwelling on the fortunate
_dénouement_ of an affair which, had it terminated otherwise, might
have been detrimental to the interests of the circle in which she
reigned; and arrogated to herself the whole merit of having, by her
good policy, been the means of bringing it to this conclusion:--a false
and unhallowed presumption, thus to attribute to human agency alone,
and human foresight, events which proceed from a higher source than
this world's wisdom can reach! but which is too common an error in
minds where religion is not the abiding principle.
Neither Lady Tilney, however, nor any of the _coterie_, were aware of
the determination of Lord and Lady Glenmore to withdraw themselves
ultimately from their circle; an event which movements in the political
world, as unexpected as they were generally deprecated, greatly
facilitated, and of which Lord Glenmore failed not to take advantage,
as much for the sake of his domestic peace, as for the maintenance
of his political principles. Measures which he felt he never could
consistently support were on the point of being brought forward by the
head of the ministry; and with that frankness and decision of character
which had marked his whole life, he sought permission to retire from
public affairs, and resign the office which he held.
Aware of the importance of his support, the minister of the day long
sought to retain him on his side; but no arguments of expediency
could overcome the fixed principles of right and wrong by which Lord
Glenmore was actuated; and he finally succeeded in liberating himself
from the toils of an office which, since the late threatened overthrow
of his domestic peace, he had found induced too great a sacrifice
of more essential points of happiness. Equally rejoiced with Lord
Glenmore was Lord Albert D'Esterre at this event, for in the present
state of his mind he found mixing in public, which his official
situation imposed upon him, a most irksome burden; and he hailed with
satisfaction a circumstance which, as a natural consequence of Lord
Glenmore's resignation, freed him also from the toils of office. The
first favourable result that accrued from this change was, that it
threw Lord Glenmore and Lord Albert more together; who, in the leisure
of retirement, experienced the sweets of that steady friendship which
is the offspring of mutual esteem.
In a proposal which, soon after these occurrences, Lord Glenmore made
to Lord Albert, of taking advantage of their liberation to go abroad,
the latter readily joined; not only as being his friend's wish but also
as one in which he would have sooner indulged himself, except for the
pain he endured at the thought of quitting Lord Glenmore. All barriers
to his wishes in this respect being removed, the arrangements for a
foreign tour were soon completed; and leaving the _coterie_ astonished
at the _mauvais ton_ of their quitting London in the middle of _the
season_, and when no one was at Paris, and no inducement could exist
for a _séjour_ abroad, according to their calculation, Lord Glenmore
and Lord Albert were soon consigned to oblivion, and ceased to be
subjects of conversation.
They, on their part, quitted London without one of those regrets so
generally experienced by the young and gay when bidding adieu to so
many seducing phantoms of pleasure--phantoms, however, whose fallacy
they had too deeply proved, ever to permit a moment's power over them
in future.
The reunited friends pursued their journey in the same route; and
although Lord Albert's heart was any thing but light, a degree of
serenity was gradually restored to him in the calm of reflection,
the interest of the scenes he passed through, and above all in that
reflected ray of happiness which he caught from his friend.
A year in this manner had passed away, and Lord Glenmore had recovered
that even cheerfulness which is a test of the heart's happiness, and
which the assurance of Lady Glenmore's devotedness to himself, and
total abandonment of all wish to re-enter scenes from which he had
withdrawn her, were calculated to restore. It was at this period that
the party found themselves at Naples: and here Lord Albert's proximity
to that country of classic name which he had once before visited,
and which again seemed to call him to the contemplation of all the
interests and beauties which it ever retains, together with that spirit
of restlessness, which is the concomitant of an unoccupied heart,
tempted him once more to revisit Greece.
In fulfilling this wish, however, he remained some time undecided,
from his averseness to quit the Glenmores; but when Lady Glenmore's
health at length prevented the possibility of their removing from
Naples, he decided on resigning the society of his friends for a few
months, and prepared for his departure. However lively his regret at
the moment of separation, and however irksome his absence, from Lord
Glenmore might appear, Lord Albert's stay in Greece was prolonged far
beyond his original intention; for who, once having tasted the delights
attendant on Grecian travel, can readily forego the charm it affords?
If there is earthly balm for a wounded spirit, it is in the feelings
and reflections which such scenes inspire.
In the correspondence that continued between Lord Glenmore and Lord
Albert D'Esterre, he found the former had quitted Italy, and intended
to pass the winter in Munich. When, therefore, his own affairs called
him imperatively back to England, he took his route through Germany;
and arriving late at Munich, stopped there for the night, in order to
enjoy a few hours society with the only persons who still, he believed,
were solicitous to retain his friendship. The announcement of his
arrival was quickly followed by his presence at the hotel inhabited by
Lord Glenmore. The meeting and reception were such as may be imagined,
though seldom realized, between friends so cordially united; and if it
suffered any alloy, it was the contrasted loneliness of Lord Albert's
heart with the domestic felicity of Lord Glenmore. But although he felt
the pang of self-regret, he was not insensible to the reflected joy of
Lord Glenmore's happiness.
His transient visit was soon followed by the declaration of his
intended departure on the morrow. But who can tell what a day may
bring forth? From this intention he was eagerly dissuaded by the
joint entreaties of Lord and Lady Glenmore; and yielding to their
solicitations, and the prospect of the pleasure of their society,
rather than to the inducement they held out of a court festival that
was to take place the following day, he gave a reluctant acquiescence
to retard his journey, and promised his attendance at the Court.
On the morrow, Lord Albert arrived at the palace, but late; and was
obliged to hurry through the apartments, in order to be in time for
his presentation. This formality gone through, he was leisurely
retracing his way to rejoin the Glenmores, who stood in a distant part
of the circle, when his eyes were attracted to a form which he thought
he recognised, but so changed, so pale, so much taller than he had
been used to recollect as the image of the person whom the features
represented, that he stopped for a moment in doubt. But that moment
was sufficient to make him remember all. It was Lady Adeline Seymour
who stood before him. For a moment he paused, and was irresolute how
to act. His head swam round, and every object in the room became one
confused mass. He looked for a way to escape; but escape there was
none, without causing much observation, the circle was so closely
drawn; and he found he must inevitably proceed in the direction where
this magic phantom stood. He endeavoured to arm himself for the dreaded
trial; but with every nerve trembling, and every pulse beating, he
was forced to move on. He endeavoured to fix his eyes on the ground,
but, in despite of himself, they were constantly raised to the object
that so irresistibly attracted them. As he drew nearer, he observed
Lady Dunmelraise leaning on the arm of her daughter. Again he started,
and gasped with uncontrollable emotion. The Court was breaking up.
The current of the throng set in one way, and pressed upon him till
he found himself absolutely borne close to the very beings whom,
of all others, it caused him the most violent agitation of mingled
feelings to meet. "Lord Albert D'Esterre" exclaimed Lady Dunmelraise,
and, courtesying, she half smiled as she recognised him. He bowed
in silence, unable to speak. Lady Dunmelraise continued to address
him:--"Have you been long at Munich, Lord Albert?" "Yes--no--yes--no. I
have been"----and he murmured a few incoherent words that admitted of
any interpretation, but which she did not misunderstand.
"Adeline, dear!" she said, turning to her daughter, whose head had
drooped, and whose eyes sought the ground, "Adeline! do you not
recognise Lord Albert D'Esterre?" Lady Adeline bowed without speaking,
or raising her head. She was powerless. Lord Albert's eyes were
fixed in stupified amazement on her. The crowd had now congregated
around them, and it was impossible for either party to move. Painful
as this situation was, Lord Albert thought he read, in the tremor
of Lady Adeline's frame, a something indefinable indeed, but which,
nevertheless, breathed of tender reminiscence. In another minute, the
glove and fan which she held in her hand dropped from her trembling
hold.
Lord Albert hastened to recover them; and, in presenting them to her,
the whole recollection of the scene at the Court of London flashed
vividly on his mind: the myrtle sprig, the look that had accompanied
the bequest of it to him, all returned to _his_ remembrance; and had
it faded entirely from hers? He ventured not to speak; but in this act
of common courtesy, while holding the fan by one end as she touched
it at the other, there was a mutually tremulous vibration that passed
through it, which told him of _all that was thrilling_ in her heart at
the moment, and which instinctively conveyed to him a renovated gleam
of hope. Under these feelings, Lord Albert, in his turn, stooped his
head to hide the tear that started to his eye, as he acknowledged--for
how could he do otherwise than acknowledge?--that _this_ was not the
feeling of one indifferent to him.
It needed, however, only a moment's reflection to repress the
presumptuous joy which for an instant filled his breast; and, with
wounds fresh opened, he sought the opportunity which a movement in the
crowd afforded him to rush from the palace to his carriage. Thence he
drove impetuously to his hotel, called his servants, gave orders for
instant preparations for departure, and hastily changing his dress, and
desiring his carriage to attend him at Lord Glenmore's hotel, proceeded
thither.
He entered with excited feelings, and a spirit irritated by the most
contradictory emotions, and half-inclined to reproach Lord Glenmore
for having exposed him to the painful scene which he had just passed
through. Lord Albert met him on the staircase, that moment returned
from Court. Lord Glenmore looked at him at first with astonishment, and
then at his change of dress.
"Glenmore," said Lord Albert in a hurried tone, "I must speak to
you;"--and as they entered his apartment, he continued, in agitation:
"Why have you exposed me to this scene? Why did you not tell me that
she was here? I have met Adeline;"--and he sunk into a chair, unable to
utter more.
"My dear D'Esterre," Lord Glenmore replied, "forgive me. You must know
how far it is from any wish of my heart to pain or agitate yours.
That you should have met Lady Adeline under circumstances distressing
to your feelings, you may believe I deeply lament: that I knew she was
resident here, it could never be my intention to conceal from you: but
that your meeting will be ultimately productive of mutual happiness to
you both (however agonizing at the moment), I cannot for an instant
doubt." Lord Albert paced the room in agitation.
"Hear me; only hear me, D'Esterre, for a few moments." Lord Albert
again cast himself into a seat.
"Let me tell you, then, quietly, that since we parted, and particularly
since our residence in this place, Lady Adeline has become the intimate
friend of my wife. Her secret thoughts have been revealed to Georgina.
Need I tell what these thoughts are? They reveal an attachment the
truest and most refined that ever warmed a heart, and that heart is
wholly and unchangeably your own. Was it possible, D'Esterre, that,
knowing you as I do, I should allow what I believe to be the truth to
remain secret, and not inform my wife that your affections were in
reality centred in Lady Adeline? And again, as your friend, knowing,
or, at least, surmising, all those unfortunate circumstances which
had arisen to separate you, that I should not endeavour to clear up
the misapprehension, and remedy the evil? Was it, too, possible, would
it have been the part of a real friend, had I deferred for an instant
seeking to place every thing in its true light to Lady Dunmelraise?
I should, indeed, have been unworthy of the character, if, from a
momentary fear of your displeasure, I had forborne to do so. This I
have done, D'Esterre;"--and Lord Glenmore added, half smiling, and
extending his hand to him as he spoke, "and for this, as well as for
the meeting that has just taken place, I feel you cannot _blame_ me."
"You are all goodness," exclaimed Lord Albert mournfully. "But what
then?" he cried with gasping eagerness, "what can it all avail me?"
"What then! why this, D'Esterre--the crowning of your wishes, the
fulfilment of your happiness. I found Lady Dunmelraise almost as much
enlightened as to the circumstances which broke off your engagement
with Lady Adeline as myself; and, in avowing this knowledge, she
accompanied it with expressions of regret that she had not herself been
more explicit on the subject to you.
"With this understanding of Lady Dunmelraise's sentiments, and the
conviction of Lady Adeline's affections being wholly yours, have I
acted wrong, even in apparent violation of your feelings, in bringing
about this interview? After all, the first meeting has been, perhaps,
as little trying to both as could well be; and it has, with this
explanation, I hope, opened the way to a more delightful reverie still.
D'Esterre, I adjure you by our friendship, by your own happiness,
trust to me, trust to Georgina, and suffer not this fortunate moment
to escape! Give way to the genuine impulse of your heart. Let not any
false pride, any untimely fears, influence you; but empower me, this
very instant, to go to Lady Dunmelraise, and prepare the way for your
reception."
Lord Albert D'Esterre, with a sense of happiness too overpowering to
admit of any distinct feeling, yielded up all the latent prejudices
and pride of his nature, which Lady Dunmelraise's rejection still left
rankling in his bosom; and, overcome by the tender entreaties of Lord
Glenmore, he at last convulsively exclaimed,
"Go, go, Glenmore! but do not deceive me; do not place me in any
position unworthy of your friend." Lord Glenmore waited not an instant,
but flew to Lady Dunmelraise, the happy messenger of happy tidings.
The purpose of his mission was soon made known, and as soon acceded to;
and when Lord Albert, the victim of delusion, found himself once more
in Lady Dunmelraise's presence, the cordial pressure of the hand, the
expressions of pleasure at again meeting, the tearful eye, and soft
intonation of voice, soon assured him that all the justice that could
be done him had already taken effect in Lady Dunmelraise's mind; and
the half-broken, half-murmured sentences which he attempted in reply
were interrupted by the latter calling to Lady Adeline Seymour from the
adjoining room. As she came forward with downcast looks and trembling
footstep, Lord Albert hastened towards her, took her hands in his, and
as he pressed them to his lips, asked her "if she could forgive him?"
In sounds almost inarticulate, she pronounced his name; and as her
head was bowed down, overcome with the agitation of such a moment,
Lady Dunmelraise approached, pressed their united hands together, and
blessed them as her children.
With what inebriation of happiness did Lord Albert quit this scene!
with what a cheered and gladdened spirit did he return to Lord
Glenmore! with what an overflowing spirit of thankfulness did he pour
forth his acknowledgments to the friend who, under Providence, had
restored him to happiness, and with such judicious zeal guided and
counselled him to reach the goal!--For these feelings there are no
words. To Lady Glenmore also he opened his whole soul, and condemned
repeatedly his misapprehension of Adeline's conduct, and his own want
of candour; while he listened with rapturous delight to every fresh
proof which fell from Lady Glenmore's lips, of Lady Adeline's love;
though even in this, there was an anguish mingled with the joy, to
think how little he had merited the devotion of such a heart. After
some hours had passed, during which Lord Albert, in the delirium of his
felicity, scarcely could persuade himself of the reality of a change
which so short a time had wrought in his existence, he became calmer;
and looking back on the past, he could not but see the over-ruling hand
of Providence in all that had befallen him.
The unthinking might call it a chance, which had opened up to him
the real character of Lady Hamlet Vernon; and, in the same mistaken
levity, might have attributed to the same blind accident the serious
reflections which this discovery brought in its train: and continuing
in this error, they might ascribe to the same fortuitous power, that he
had reached Munich, a desolate and forlorn being, to whom no object
in life presented itself to cheer existence or stimulate exertion; and
that, now, how the evolution of a few hours had reversed the whole
picture, and placed him on the summit of human happiness!--Yes, the
unthinking and the hardened may ascribe all this to chance: but the
wise and good know that _chance_ is only another word for Providence;
and that in every turn of our lives, in every minutia which affects
our existence here or hereafter, there is a mightier power to be
acknowledged than any secondary cause can alone produce.
"D'Esterre," said Lord Glenmore, as the latter entered the apartment
where he was sitting with Lady Glenmore, "D'Esterre, do you know that
your carriage has been waiting for hours at the door?" and smiling as
he added, "I presume it may go back to your hotel, for I have to tell
you that Lady Dunmelraise and Lady Adeline will be here directly." Lord
Albert looked his delighted thanks. "And if you intend to make any
toilette for dinner," continued the former, "there is no time to lose."
Lord Albert arose, pressed the hands of both his friends to his heart,
and promised to return instantly.
As he descended the staircase, he saw his old servant Comtois, who
held his travelling cloak. Lord Albert said, as he passed him, "No,
Comtois, no." The former made a sign to the courier to mount. Lord
Albert observed this, and turning round, added, "Comtois, I shall not
set off to-day."
"No, _milor_?" rejoined the latter with surprise, his features catching
a portion of the joy that gleamed from his master's face, and to which
such an expression had long been a stranger. "_Milor, donc, a changé
d'intention: il ne part pas._"
"No, Comtois; and I must dress as soon as possible, so go to my hotel."
The servant hastened forward to execute these orders, with as much
alacrity as Lord Albert had shown in giving them; and the grave tone
of command to the courier to return with the carriage was changed to
one almost of friendly familiarity, as he said, nodding to him, "Luigi,
_nous ne partons pas_. _Vite à l'hôtel._"
It would be vain to attempt to describe all that passed, all that was
said and looked, when they met, between the now happy Lord Albert and
Lady Adeline. Much time at Munich was not suffered to elapse, before
arrangements were made for Lady Dunmelraise's and her daughter's return
to England, whither they were accompanied by Lord Albert; and when
arrived there, their union was to take place as soon as possible. Lord
and Lady Glenmore were entreated to return in time for the ceremony;
and the former, re-assured by the two years' devotion and increasing
attachment of his wife, now saw no reason for his prolonged stay on the
continent.
Lord Albert D'Esterre, on his arrival in England, found some little
difficulty in explaining satisfactorily to his father Lord Tresyllian's
mind all the contradictory circumstances which had led to Lady
Adeline's rejection of him, and in regaining his approbation of their
union; but the wounded pride of the latter was at length appeased by
the most satisfactory details of all the occurrences, and beyond this
Lord Tresyllian had little feeling. The marriage took place a few
days after the arrival of the Glenmores, and for nine days formed the
subject of wonder and conversation in the _coterie_ of the exclusives,
in which Lord Albert had so nearly made a wreck of happiness.
With this circle, a few excepted, no renewal of intimacy took place,
either on the part of Lord Albert or Lord Glenmore. They found, by
public report, that the fate of some who had figured in it had been
such as their course must sooner or later have brought them to.
Mr. Leslie Winyard had married, a few months after Lady Glenmore's
departure, an heiress of immense wealth; who, dazzled with the idea
of obtaining the _entrée_ into that circle of _ton_ in which he moved,
and betrayed by the delusive hope of reclaiming him from its more
destructive follies by her love and devotion, had given him her hand,
her fortune, and her happiness. Enormous, however, as was her wealth,
it was soon dissipated in the payment of his previous debts, and the
endless extravagances into which he plunged: and in eighteen months
after their union she had died of a broken heart; having lived to
witness the foul desertion of the man for whom she had sacrificed every
thing, and who was then living, in open violation of all religious and
moral feeling, with a recent victim of his seduction.
Lady Glenmore shuddered as she heard these details, and lifted up her
hands in silent thanksgiving to the Almighty for having been preserved
from so awful a fate. As regarded Lord Albert, if any thing could have
been requisite to confirm him in the proper estimate he had formed
of Lady Hamlet Vernon's character, and the danger he had escaped, he
would have found it in _her_ subsequent history; for, pursuing the
same course of intrigue in which she had so nearly involved him, she
at length fell into the toils spread for others, and became the dupe
of her own vicious folly. Brought to a situation in which the fruits
of her conduct would soon become glaringly apparent, and which, if
discovered, must have driven her from that circle where every thing
depended on avoiding _detection_, and scorned by the man she had sought
to inveigle, she was obliged, as a last resource, to veil her infamy
by a marriage with Mr. Foley, with whom she lived at present on those
terms of mutual unhappiness which would naturally be the consequence of
such a union.
Some few there were of the _coterie_, who had been timely warned, and,
seeing the tendency of the course they were pursuing, had withdrawn
from the magic sphere to better and more stable pursuits. Among
these was Lord Gascoigne, whose quick intelligence and clear head,
accompanied by a goodness of heart which he often concealed under a
show of levity, had preserved him from losing himself entirely in
the vortex of folly. Lord and Lady Baskerville, too, had seen their
error--an error more of the head arising from the contamination of
example, than of the heart; and who now lived as became their station,
and in the way which bade a fair promise for virtuous happiness; while
others of the number continued their heartless round, without coming
to any open disgrace, and yet without making any reform. Among these,
again, was Lady Tilney, who continued still the _soi-disant_ queen
of _ton_, blind to the approach of that period when her empire must
yield, in despite of all her strenuous efforts to uphold it, to that of
some fresh rising beauty; and still insensible to the dreadful vacuum
which in the decline of life, without the sincerity of friendship and
the resources of a well-cultivated mind--above all, without religious
trust to cheer and gild the setting sun of life--must be the miserable
portion of every human creature.
One _distingué_ member of the _coterie_ was on the eve of leaving it
and the country, not willingly, but from imperative circumstances. The
Comtesse Leinsengen, who had for years played the part of a crafty
_diplomatiste_ with the government, as well as endeavoured to extend
her rule over the circles of fashion, had found herself at last foiled
in her political objects: and too proud to bear this defeat, she had
announced her departure as decisive; an event that to the minister
afforded a feeling of triumph, and no less of secret joy in the breast
of Lady Tilney, who had found in her "_dear friend_" her most dreaded
rival and pertinacious opponent. Oh! what a melancholy reflection to
think, if the Comtesse Leinsengen ever did think on any thing beyond
views of self-interest and the gratification of self-love, that an
intimacy with those with whom she had lived for so many years had been
productive of no one friendship that deserved the name, and given birth
to no one regret when she was about to leave them probably for ever!
Such, however, would be found to be the case with almost every
individual forming part of this circle, where selfishness,
heartlessness, and cold over-reaching, alternately swayed every action;
passions which, when delineated, at some future day, as they appear
exemplified in individual characters on the scene, will give additional
strength to the moral lesson intended to be conveyed by this general
view of EXCLUSIVE SOCIETY.
THE END.
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popularity."--_Literary Gazette._
7. ECARTÉ; or, the SALONS OF PARIS. 3 vols. 28s. 6d.
8. THE NAVAL OFFICER; or, SCENES and ADVENTURES in the LIFE OF FRANK
MILDMAY. 3 vols.
9. WALDEGRAVE. A TALE of the SOUTH. 3 vols. 27s.
10. RYBRENT de CRUCE. 3 vols. 28s. 6d.
"The production of an intelligent and cultivated person."--_New
Monthly Magazine._
"This is a very clever novel."--_Literary Gazette._
11. GERALDINE of DESMOND; or, IRELAND in the REIGN of ELIZABETH. 3
vols.
"The work will take its station among the best historical romances
that have ever been written."--_Cheltenham Chronicle._
12. BLUE STOCKING HALL. Second Edition. 3 vols. 27s.
13. TALES of a VOYAGER to the ARCTIC OCEAN. SECOND SERIES. 3 vols.
14. THE CARBONARO. A TALE, by the DUKE DE LEVIS. 2 vols.
15. THE SECTARIAN; or, The CHURCH and the MEETING-HOUSE. 3 vols.
16. TALES of WOMAN, Illustrative of the FEMALE CHARACTER. 2 vols.
17. THE MAN of TWO LIVES. A NARRATIVE, WRITTEN by HIMSELF. 2 vols.
18. THE CASTILIAN. A SPANISH TALE. 3 vols.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's
original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.