been visited by my uncle, each being of unsocial, procrastinating,
and indolent habits, and their respective residences being very far
apart--the one lying in the county of Galway, the other in that
of Cork--he was strongly attached to his brother, and evinced his
affection by an active correspondence, and by deeply and proudly
resenting that neglect which had branded Sir Arthur as unfit to mix in
society.
When I was about eighteen years of age, my father, whose health had
been gradually declining, died, leaving me in heart wretched
and desolate, and, owing to his habitual seclusion, with few
acquaintances, and almost no friends. The provisions of his will were
curious, and when I was sufficiently come to myself to listen to, or
comprehend them, surprised me not a little: all his vast property was
left to me, and to the heirs of my body, for ever; and, in default
of such heirs, it was to go after my death to my uncle, Sir Arthur,
without any entail. At the same time, the will appointed him my
guardian, desiring that I might be received within his house, and
reside with his family, and under his care, during the term of my
minority; and in consideration of the increased expense consequent
upon such an arrangement, a handsome allowance was allotted to him
during the term of my proposed residence. The object of this last
provision I at once understood; my father desired, by making it the
direct apparent interest of Sir Arthur that I should die without
issue, while at the same time he placed my person wholly in his power,
to prove to the world how great and unshaken was his confidence in
his brother's innocence and honour. It was a strange, perhaps an
idle scheme, but as I had been always brought up in the habit of
considering my uncle as a deeply injured man, and had been taught,
almost as a part of my religion, to regard him as the very soul of
honour, I felt no further uneasiness respecting the arrangement than
that likely to affect a shy and timid girl at the immediate prospect
of taking up her abode for the first time in her life among strangers.
Previous to leaving my home, which I felt I should do with a heavy
heart, I received a most tender and affectionate letter from my uncle,
calculated, if anything could do so, to remove the bitterness of
parting from scenes familiar and dear from my earliest childhood,
and in some degree to reconcile me to the measure. It was upon a fine
autumn day that I approached the old domain of Carrickleigh. I shall
not soon forget the impression of sadness and of gloom which all that
I saw produced upon my mind; the sunbeams were falling with a rich
and melancholy lustre upon the fine old trees, which stood in lordly
groups, casting their long sweeping shadows over rock and sward; there
was an air of neglect and decay about the spot, which amounted almost
to desolation, and mournfully increased as we approached the building
itself, near which the ground had been originally more artificially
and carefully cultivated than elsewhere, and where consequently
neglect more immediately and strikingly betrayed itself.
As we proceeded, the road wound near the beds of what had been
formerly two fish-ponds, which were now nothing more than stagnant
swamps, overgrown with rank weeds, and here and there encroached upon
by the straggling underwood; the avenue itself was much broken; and in
many places the stones were almost concealed by grass and nettles; the
loose stone walls which had here and there intersected the broad park,
were, in many places, broken down, so as no longer to answer their
original purpose as fences; piers were now and then to be seen, but
the gates were gone; and to add to the general air of dilapidation,
some huge trunks were lying scattered through the venerable old trees,
either the work of the winter storms, or perhaps the victims of some
extensive but desultory scheme of denudation, which the projector had
not capital or perseverance to carry into full effect.
After the carriage had travelled a full mile of this avenue, we
reached the summit of a rather abrupt eminence, one of the many which
added to the picturesqueness, if not to the convenience of this rude
approach; from the top of this ridge the grey walls of Carrickleigh
were visible, rising at a small distance in front, and darkened by the
hoary wood which crowded around them; it was a quadrangular building
of considerable extent, and the front, where the great entrance was
placed, lay towards us, and bore unequivocal marks of antiquity; the
time-worn, solemn aspect of the old building, the ruinous and deserted
appearance of the whole place, and the associations which connected
it with a dark page in the history of my family, combined to depress
spirits already predisposed for the reception of sombre and dejecting
impressions. When the carriage drew up in the grass-grown court-yard
before the hall-door, two lazy-looking men, whose appearance well
accorded with that of the place which they tenanted, alarmed by
the obstreperous barking of a great chained dog, ran out from some
half-ruinous outhouses, and took charge of the horses; the hall-door
stood open, and I entered a gloomy and imperfectly-lighted apartment,
and found no one within it. However, I had not long to wait in this
awkward predicament, for before my luggage had been deposited in the
house, indeed before I had well removed my cloak and other muffles,
so as to enable me to look around, a young girl ran lightly into the
hall, and kissing me heartily and somewhat boisterously exclaimed, "My
dear cousin, my dear Margaret--I am so delighted--so out of breath, we
did not expect you till ten o'clock; my father is somewhere about the
place, he must be close at hand. James--Corney--run out and tell your
master; my brother is seldom at home, at least at any reasonable hour;
you must be so tired--so fatigued--let me show you to your room; see
that Lady Margaret's luggage is all brought up; you must lie down and
rest yourself. Deborah, bring some coffee--up these stairs; we are
so delighted to see you--you cannot think how lonely I have been; how
steep these stairs are, are not they? I am so glad you are come--I
could hardly bring myself to believe that you were really coming;
how good of you, dear Lady Margaret." There was real good nature
and delight in my cousin's greeting, and a kind of constitutional
confidence of manner which placed me at once at ease, and made me feel
immediately upon terms of intimacy with her. The room into which
she ushered me, although partaking in the general air of decay which
pervaded the mansion and all about it, had, nevertheless, been fitted
up with evident attention to comfort, and even with some dingy attempt
at luxury; but what pleased me most was that it opened, by a second
door, upon a lobby which communicated with my fair cousin's apartment;
a circumstance which divested the room, in my eyes, of the air of
solitude and sadness which would otherwise have characterised it, to a
degree almost painful to one so depressed and agitated as I was.
After such arrangements as I found necessary were completed, we both
went down to the parlour, a large wainscotted room, hung round with
grim old portraits, and, as I was not sorry to see, containing, in its
ample grate, a large and cheerful fire. Here my cousin had leisure to
talk more at her ease; and from her I learned something of the manners
and the habits of the two remaining members of her family, whom I had
not yet seen. On my arrival I had known nothing of the family
among whom I was come to reside, except that it consisted of three
individuals, my uncle, and his son and daughter, Lady Tyrrell having
been long dead; in addition to this very scanty stock of information,
I shortly learned from my communicative companion, that my uncle was,
as I had suspected, completely retired in his habits, and besides
that, having been, so far back as she could well recollect, always
rather strict, as reformed rakes frequently become, he had latterly
been growing more gloomily and sternly religious than heretofore. Her
account of her brother was far less favourable, though she did not say
anything directly to his disadvantage. From all that I could gather
from her, I was led to suppose that he was a specimen of the idle,
coarse-mannered, profligate "_squirearchy_"--a result which might
naturally have followed from the circumstance of his being, as it
were, outlawed from society, and driven for companionship to grades
below his own--enjoying, too, the dangerous prerogative of spending
a good deal of money. However, you may easily suppose that I found
nothing in my cousin's communication fully to bear me out in so very
decided a conclusion.
I awaited the arrival of my uncle, which was every moment to be
expected, with feelings half of alarm, half of curiosity--a sensation
which I have often since experienced, though to a less degree, when
upon the point of standing for the first time in the presence of one
of whom I have long been in the habit of hearing or thinking with
interest. It was, therefore, with some little perturbation that I
heard, first a slight bustle at the outer door, then a slow step
traverse the hall, and finally witnessed the door open, and my uncle
enter the room. He was a striking looking man; from peculiarities both
of person and of dress, the whole effect of his appearance amounted to
extreme singularity. He was tall, and when young his figure must have
been strikingly elegant; as it was, however, its effect was marred by
a very decided stoop; his dress was of a sober colour, and in fashion
anterior to any thing which I could remember. It was, however,
handsome, and by no means carelessly put on; but what completed the
singularity of his appearance was his uncut, white hair, which hung
in long, but not at all neglected curls, even so far as his shoulders,
and which combined with his regularly classic features, and fine dark
eyes, to bestow upon him an air of venerable dignity and pride, which
I have seldom seen equalled elsewhere. I rose as he entered, and
met him about the middle of the room; he kissed my cheek and both my
hands, saying--
"You are most welcome, dear child, as welcome as the command of this
poor place and all that it contains can make you. I am rejoiced to see
you--truly rejoiced. I trust that you are not much fatigued; pray be
seated again." He led me to my chair, and continued, "I am glad to
perceive you have made acquaintance with Emily already; I see, in your
being thus brought together, the foundation of a lasting friendship.
You are both innocent, and both young. God bless you--God bless you,
and make you all that I could wish."
He raised his eyes, and remained for a few moments silent, as if
in secret prayer. I felt that it was impossible that this man, with
feelings manifestly so tender, could be the wretch that public opinion
had represented him to be. I was more than ever convinced of his
innocence. His manners were, or appeared to me, most fascinating.
I know not how the lights of experience might have altered this
estimate. But I was then very young, and I beheld in him a perfect
mingling of the courtesy of polished life with the gentlest and
most genial virtues of the heart. A feeling of affection and respect
towards him began to spring up within me, the more earnest that I
remembered how sorely he had suffered in fortune and how cruelly in
fame. My uncle having given me fully to understand that I was most
welcome, and might command whatever was his own, pressed me to take
some supper; and on my refusing, he observed that, before bidding me
good night, he had one duty further to perform, one in which he was
convinced I would cheerfully acquiesce. He then proceeded to read a
chapter from the Bible; after which he took his leave with the same
affectionate kindness with which he had greeted me, having repeated
his desire that I should consider every thing in his house as
altogether at my disposal. It is needless to say how much I was
pleased with my uncle--it was impossible to avoid being so; and I
could not help saying to myself, if such a man as this is not safe
from the assaults of slander, who is? I felt much happier than I
had done since my father's death, and enjoyed that night the first
refreshing sleep which had visited me since that calamity. My
curiosity respecting my male cousin did not long remain unsatisfied;
he appeared upon the next day at dinner. His manners, though not so
coarse as I had expected, were exceedingly disagreeable; there was an
assurance and a forwardness for which I was not prepared; there was
less of the vulgarity of manner, and almost more of that of the mind,
than I had anticipated. I felt quite uncomfortable in his presence;
there was just that confidence in his look and tone, which would read
encouragement even in mere toleration; and I felt more disgusted and
annoyed at the coarse and extravagant compliments which he was pleased
from time to time to pay me, than perhaps the extent of the atrocity
might fully have warranted. It was, however, one consolation that he
did not often appear, being much engrossed by pursuits about which
I neither knew nor cared anything; but when he did, his attentions,
either with a view to his amusement, or to some more serious object,
were so obviously and perseveringly directed to me, that young and
inexperienced as I was, even _I_ could not be ignorant of their
significance. I felt more provoked by this odious persecution than I
can express, and discouraged him with so much vigour, that I did
not stop even at rudeness to convince him that his assiduities were
unwelcome; but all in vain.
This had gone on for nearly a twelvemonth, to my infinite annoyance,
when one day, as I was sitting at some needlework with my companion,
Emily, as was my habit, in the parlour, the door opened, and my cousin
Edward entered the room. There was something, I thought, odd in his
manner, a kind of struggle between shame and impudence, a kind of
flurry and ambiguity, which made him appear, if possible, more than
ordinarily disagreeable.
"Your servant, ladies," he said, seating himself at the same time;
"sorry to spoil your _tête-à-tête_; but never mind, I'll only take
Emily's place for a minute or two, and then we part for a while, fair
cousin. Emily, my father wants you in the corner turret; no shilly,
shally, he's in a hurry." She hesitated. "Be off--tramp, march, I
say," he exclaimed, in a tone which the poor girl dared not disobey.
She left the room, and Edward followed her to the door. He stood there
for a minute or two, as if reflecting what he should say, perhaps
satisfying himself that no one was within hearing in the hall. At
length he turned about, having closed the door, as if carelessly, with
his foot, and advancing slowly, in deep thought, he took his seat at
the side of the table opposite to mine. There was a brief interval of
silence, after which he said:--
"I imagine that you have a shrewd suspicion of the object of my early
visit; but I suppose I must go into particulars. Must I?"
"I have no conception," I replied, "what your object may be."
"Well, well," said he becoming more at his ease as he proceeded, "it
may be told in a few words. You know that it is totally impossible,
quite out of the question, that an off-hand young fellow like me, and
a good-looking girl like yourself, could meet continually as you and
I have done, without an attachment--a liking growing up on one side or
other; in short, I think I have let you know as plainly as if I spoke
it, that I have been in love with you, almost from the first time
I saw you." He paused, but I was too much horrified to speak. He
interpreted my silence favourably. "I can tell you," he continued,
"I'm reckoned rather hard to please, and very hard to _hit_. I can't
say when I was taken with a girl before, so you see fortune reserved
me--."
Here the odious wretch actually put his arm round my waist: the
action at once restored me to utterance, and with the most indignant
vehemence I released myself from his hold, and at the same time
said:--
"I _have_, sir, of course, perceived your most disagreeable
attentions; they have long been a source of great annoyance to me; and
you must be aware that I have marked my disapprobation, my disgust, as
unequivocally as I possibly could, without actual indelicacy."
I paused, almost out of breath from the rapidity with which I had
spoken; and without giving him time to renew the conversation, I
hastily quitted the room, leaving him in a paroxysm of rage and
mortification. As I ascended the stairs, I heard him open the
parlour-door with violence, and take two or three rapid strides in the
direction in which I was moving. I was now much frightened, and ran
the whole way until I reached my room, and having locked the door, I
listened breathlessly, but heard no sound. This relieved me for
the present; but so much had I been overcome by the agitation and
annoyance attendant upon the scene which I had just passed through,
that when my cousin Emily knocked at the door, I was weeping in great
agitation. You will readily conceive my distress, when you reflect
upon my strong dislike to my cousin Edward, combined with my youth and
extreme inexperience. Any proposal of such a nature must have agitated
me; but that it should come from the man whom, of all others, I
instinctively most loathed and abhorred, and to whom I had, as clearly
as manner could do it, expressed the state of my feelings, was almost
too annoying to be borne; it was a calamity, too, in which I could not
claim the sympathy of my cousin Emily, which had always been extended
to me in my minor grievances. Still I hoped that it might not be
unattended with good; for I thought that one inevitable and most
welcome consequence would result from this painful _éclaircissement_,
in the discontinuance of my cousin's odious persecution.
When I arose next morning, it was with the fervent hope that I
might never again behold his face, or even hear his name; but such
a consummation, though devoutedly to be wished, was hardly likely to
occur. The painful impressions of yesterday were too vivid to be
at once erased; and I could not help feeling some dim foreboding of
coming annoyance and evil. To expect on my cousin's part anything like
delicacy or consideration for me, was out of the question. I saw that
he had set his heart upon my property, and that he was not likely
easily to forego such a prize, possessing what might have been
considered opportunities and facilities almost to compel my
compliance. I now keenly felt the unreasonableness of my father's
conduct in placing me to reside with a family, with all the members of
which, with one exception, he was wholly unacquainted, and I bitterly
felt the helplessness of my situation. I determined, however, in the
event of my cousin's persevering in his addresses, to lay all the
particulars before my uncle, although he had never, in kindness or
intimacy, gone a step beyond our first interview, and to throw myself
upon his hospitality and his sense of honour for protection against a
repetition of such annoyances.
My cousin's conduct may appear to have been an inadequate cause for
such serious uneasiness; but my alarm was awakened neither by his acts
nor by words, but entirely by his manner, which was strange and even
intimidating. At the beginning of our yesterday's interview, there was
a sort of bullying swagger in his air, which, towards the end,
gave place to something bordering upon the brutal vehemence of an
undisguised ruffian, a transition which had tempted me into a belief
that he might seek, even forcibly, to extort from me a consent to his
wishes, or by means still more horrible, of which I scarcely dared to
trust myself to think, to possess himself of my property.
I was early next day summoned to attend my uncle in his private
room, which lay in a corner turret of the old building; and thither
I accordingly went, wondering all the way what this unusual measure
might prelude. When I entered the room, he did not rise in his usual
courteous way to greet me, but simply pointed to a chair opposite to
his own; this boded nothing agreeable. I sat down, however, silently
waiting until he should open the conversation.
"Lady Margaret," at length he said, in a tone of greater sternness
than I thought him capable of using, "I have hitherto spoken to you as
a friend, but I have not forgotten that I am also your guardian, and
that my authority as such gives me a right to controul your conduct.
I shall put a question to you, and I expect and will demand a
plain, direct answer. Have I rightly been informed that you have
contemptuously rejected the suit and hand of my son Edward?"
I stammered forth with a good deal of trepidation:--
"I believe, that is, I have, sir, rejected my cousin's proposals; and
my coldness and discouragement might have convinced him that I had
determined to do so."
"Madame," replied he, with suppressed, but, as it appeared to me,
intense anger, "I have lived long enough to know that _coldness and
discouragement_, and such terms, form the common cant of a worthless
coquette. You know to the full, as well as I, that _coldness and
discouragement_ may be so exhibited as to convince their object that
he is neither distasteful nor indifferent to the person who wears that
manner. You know, too, none better, that an affected neglect, when
skillfully managed, is amongst the most formidable of the allurements
which artful beauty can employ. I tell you, madame, that having,
without one word spoken in discouragement, permitted my son's most
marked attentions for a twelvemonth or more, you have no _right_ to
dismiss him with no further explanation than demurely telling him that
you had always looked coldly upon him, and neither your wealth nor
_your ladyship_ (there was an emphasis of scorn on the word which
would have become Sir Giles Overreach himself) can warrant you in
treating with contempt the affectionate regard of an honest heart."
I was too much shocked at this undisguised attempt to bully me into
an acquiescence in the interested and unprincipled plan for their
own aggrandisement, which I now perceived my uncle and his son had
deliberately formed, at once to find strength or collectedness to
frame an answer to what he had said. At length I replied, with a
firmness that surprised myself:--
"In all that you have just now said, sir, you have grossly misstated
my conduct and motives. Your information must have been most
incorrect, as far as it regards my conduct towards my cousin; my
manner towards him could have conveyed nothing but dislike; and if
anything could have added to the strong aversion which I have long
felt towards him, it would be his attempting thus to frighten me into
a marriage which he knows to be revolting to me, and which is sought
by him only as a means for securing to himself whatever property is
mine."
As I said this, I fixed my eyes upon those of my uncle, but he was too
old in the world's ways to falter beneath the gaze of more searching
eyes than mine; he simply said--
"Are you acquainted with the provisions of your father's will?"
I answered in the affirmative; and he continued:--"Then you must be
aware that if my son Edward were, which God forbid, the unprincipled,
reckless man, the ruffian you pretend to think him"--(here he spoke
very slowly, as if he intended that every word which escaped him
should be registered in my memory, while at the same time the
expression of his countenance underwent a gradual but horrible change,
and the eyes which he fixed upon me became so darkly vivid, that
I almost lost sight of everything else)--"if he were what you have
described him, do you think, child, he would have found no shorter way
than marriage to gain his ends? A single blow, an outrage not a degree
worse than you insinuate, would transfer your property to us!!"
I stood staring at him for many minutes after he had ceased to speak,
fascinated by the terrible, serpent-like gaze, until he continued with
a welcome change of countenance:--