The Adventures of a Beauty

Chapter I

" You had better let me harness the mare and drive you up to the park gate, Miss Agnes ; you had, indeed. You'U be over your shoes afore you get across the fallow." The person who offered this advice was a ruddy faced young rustic, with an exceedingly honest, open countenance, who appeared to be prepared for some particular occasion, being evidently attired in his Sunday clothes : namely, a black velveteen jacket, striped waistcoat, fustian trowsers and laced boots, all looking new and fresh; and a yellow handkerchief round his throat, sustaining a shirt collar, the points of which extended half way up his cheeks. As he spoke, he issued from the door VOL, I. B of a farm-house, followed by two women, with their bonnets and cloaks on. " Do, Agnes," said the shortest of the females ; "you'll get your death of cold, I'm sure you will."

" No, Gibby, I'd rather walk, thank ye," an swered Agnes; adding in a lower tone to her sister, "You know, Martha, I couldn't go in the cart !" " But only as far as the park gate, dear," urged Martha. " I wouldn't for the world, Martha ; so don't ask me. How do you know where he may meet us ?" " I'm afeard it's a coming on to snow again," said the young man, who she had addressed as Gibby. " Tt's a coming up from over the Abbey as black as my hat." " Never mind," said Agnes ; " if we walk quick we may be there before it comes down. Are you ready, Martha ?" " Yes, dear," answered Martha, diving her hand into a long pocket, from which she extracted a large key. "You lock the door after us, Gibby," said she. " But stay a moment. I think I had better put another log on the parlour fire before we go.

You're sure you fastened the back door, Gibby ?" " It's all fast," said Gibby, " and the windows too. Please let me hold the humberheller over you, Miss Agnes, he added," deploying a large cotton umbrella, and placing himself by the side of the person he addressed, whilst with the other hand he drew after him the house door and locked it. The party, which consisted only of these three persons, then stepped forward, passed through a wicket-gate at the bottom of a small garden, separating the house from the road, which they crossed, and having surmounted a stile, they set off at a brisk pace across the fields. Light flakes of snow, which had been falling all day at intervals, were floating in the air, and the ground, white in the less exposed spots, was black and sloppy in the paths they had to tread.

The bleak wind whistled and moaned through the trees, and the night was very cold, for it was the month of December, and the Abbey clock had struck ten. Pew words were spoken, for the wind and the cold, and the thoughts of the errand they were on, kept them silent, tdl after about an hour's walk they reached a high wall; then Agnes, handing Gibby a key, bade him open a small private door, which led into the grounds of Ravenscliffe. As soon as they were inside, Agnes looked about, as far as the faint b2 moonlight which now and then broke through the clouds permitted, as if seeking some one ; but there was nobody visible. " It's the bad night that's kept him from coming," said Martha. " He'll be waiting us at the chapel, may be." " I'd run on and see, if it wasn't for leaving you here in the cold," said Gibby.

" I have a mind to go back," said Agnes " Oh, Agnes, don't," said Martha. " I see a light in the chapel," said Gibby, wrho had swung himself up to the branch of a tree. " Then we had better go on," said Martha, taking hold of her sister's arm. But at that moment, whilst Agnes appeared irresolute whether to go forward or retreat, a foot was heard approach ing, and her name was pronounced by a young man wrapt in a blue cloth riding-cloak, and shel tering himself with an umbrella, who approached them by a side path. " What a night !" he exclaimed, as he drew Agnes's arm within his, and led her by the way he had come, without taking any notice of the two who walked side by side behind them. " I am afraid you must be verv cold and wet ?" " Not cold at all, we have walked so fast ;" replied Agnes, " and not much wet."

" My poor Agnes !" he said, tenderly pressing her arm. " 1 hope you'll not get cold." " No fear of that," she said ; " but I feel so much about seeing the clergyman. How strange it must appear to him. What will he think of me ?" " What do his thoughts signify ?" returned the other. " He has his own reasons for complying with my wishes and keeping my secrets, depend on it. By the bye, I hope you are quite sure of that lad behind us?" " As sure as of myself," replied Agnes. " Warn him of the consequences of tattling about our affairs, because an imprudent word might play the devil with us." " He'll speak no imprudent words, I'll answer for him," said Agnes ; " you little know poor Gibby. He'd cut his tongue out rather than harm either of us : — I mean, me or Martha." " By whieh you intend to imply that / do not fill such a distinguished place in Gibby's affections.

Eh ?" " He'll love you for my sake now," said Agnes. " I shall be proud of the honour of his esteem," said the young man. " You may," returned Agnes, gravely. The black cloud Gibby had descried having passed over to the west without discharging its contents, the moon shone forth again, shedding its pale light on the large pile of buildings they were approaching, with its turrets and towers, broad stone terraces and well-clipped lawns. This was Ravenscliffe Castle, or Abbey, as it was sometimes styled, and to the left of it was a small chapel with lancet windows and carved gables, w'hich gave evidence both within and without, to the former creed of the family. It was towards this chapel that the party we have described directed their steps. The faint light which Gibby had descried, still gleamed through the stained glass of the oriel window, but those of the castle were all dark.

When they reached the chapel they found the door open, and by the light of a lantern which stood on the floor by the altar, they perceived that no one was there. " Stay here a moment," said the young man, to his companion, " I'll see if he's in the vestry." As the vestry door opened, Agnes observed a light there, and presently afterwards her lover came out again, accompanied by a tall, thin, pale, young man with a book in his hand, who without saying a syllable, having placed himself before the altar and opened his volume, began to read the introductory words of the marriage ceremony, or rather to gabble them in a manner so hurried, purposeless, and indistinct, that it was impossible for his hearers to follow out a single sentence from beginning to end. The effect of this mode of proceeding on the female chiefly concerned, was to throw her into a state of confusion and fright, that rendered her actually incapable of answering, when the customary interrogation was addressed to her.

However, this omission occasioned no pause or hesitation in the fluency of the reader. who ran on for a short time longer, and then suddenly closed the book, and bowing slightly as he passed, retired to the vestry. Amazed and stupified, and wondering whether she was married or not, Agnes involuntarily followed him with her eyes till he reached the door, which she then for the first time perceived was partly open; and she even fancied that she saw another head withdrawn as the clergy man entered. " Wait a moment," said the young man, to whom after this fashion she had been just united in the holy bonds of matrimony, " I'll be back directly ;" and he vanished into the vestry also. " You'll not wish it registered, of course ; it Tvould never do to register," said the clergyman. " But there should be a certificate," observed a third person, whose head it probably was that Agnes had caught a glimpse of.

" It need never be pro duced, you know, unless it should be desirable — but it might be desirable. Nobody can foresee what card may turn up." " Certainly, if we are not registered there should be a certificate by all means," said the newly-married man. " Who should sign it ?" " We should all sign," said the last speaker, " yrou and she, and the witnesses. I'll step aside whilst you call them in. Here's a corner that will do for me ;" and so saying, he retreated behind an old oak press in which the minister's gown and books, and various other articles belonging to the chapel were formerly deposited. In the meantime, the clergyman, having drawn up a certificate in the usual form, the three persons in the chapel were summoned to sign it. There being two wax-candles lighted on the table, the light shone full upon them as they came in.

First walked Agnes, dressed in deep mourning, except a pair of white kid-gloves, which she had brought in her pocket, and put on when she first entered the chapel. Pale as death, but with features so beautiful, that they would have made death itself lovely, and with a countenance expressing amazement, uncertainty, and dissatisfaction, she advanced to the table, conducted by her husband. " We must sign our names," said he, taking up a pen and writing ' Lionel Grosvenor.' " Write yours underneath." " Which name ?" she inquired. "Which?" asked Lionel, looking at the clergyman. "Her own — Agnes Crawfurd," answered the latter; and with a hand that shook with agitation, the name was inscribed; and then, overcome by eonfusion, she retired from the table. "Now, Martha Crawfurd, yours," said Lionel; and Martha, also in deep mourning, but with features and complexion that formed a curious con trast with her sister's, (for the agitation and surprise that had driven the blood from Agnes's delicate cheeks, had crimsoned those of the ruddy Martha), signed next.

" Now, you," said Lionel. " I can't write," said Gibby ; " I can make my mark." "Very well — that'll do," and "John Gibson, his mark," was next inscribed. The Minister then having, at the desire of Lionel, b3 but evidently not with very good will, signed also, the bridegroom wished him good night ; and taking his bride under his arm, walked away, followed by Martha and Gibby. As soon as they were gone, the person who had concealed himself behind the press advanced, and observing to the clergyman that Agnes was " a devilish pretty creature !" he also attached his name to the certificate ; and folding up the paper, placed it in his pocket. They then quitted the chapel, arm-in-arm, closing the door after them ; whilst the bride and bridegroom made their way across the fields to the farm-house from which she had started, preceded by Gibby and Martha, who hastened forward to open the door, light the candles, and stir the fire.

A frugal repast of bread and butter, cake, eggs and cream, was soon spread upon the little table in the parlour by the neat-handed Martha ; and there the young couple ate their wedding supper ; whilst the only other two members of the household, Martha and Gibby, commented, by the kitchen fire, upon what had passed. On the following morning, Lionel returned to the Castle, whilst Agnes staid at the farm, awaiting the visit of her young husband at supper-time ; and since, in order to comprehend the events that followed this union, so inauspiciously consecrated, it is necessary to know some that preceded it, we must beg our readers to return with us to the period when the y-oung bride and bridegroom were children ; the one residing at Ravenscliffe Castle, as the cherished heir of the Grosvenors ; and tbe other at the Holmes Farm, tenanted by her father, Daniel Crawfurd.

Chapter II

On a bright sunny morning, in the month of June, two little girls were playing on a small grass plot, in the front of a farm-house, in one of the most romantic parts of England. They were dressed in dark-cotton frocks and brown pinafores of the commonest description ; but their clothes and their faces were clean, and their hands no otherwise discoloured than by the wholesome soil of the garden. " Agnes, Agnes," said a pale, sickly woman, putting her head out of one of the upper windows, " why will you go out without your bonnet on ? You will be burnt as brown as a berry, child." But Agnes was by this time running fuU tilt after a ball that she had thrown over the paling into an adjoining field, and paid no attention to her mother's warning. " Martha, come in, and fetch your sister's bonnet, and take it to her," said the mother.

Whereupon, Martha laid down the little wooden rake, with which she was smoothing a corner of the garden which she caUed her own, and obeyed her mother's behest. By the time she returned with the bonnet, however, Agnes had re-entered the gate, and had taken possession of Martha's rake. " Where's my ball ?" inquired the latter, as she placed the bonnet on her sister's head, whilst her own remained uncovered. " That's not my bonnet," said Agnes. "No, it's mine; I can't find yours," answered Martha. " But where's my ball ?" " I threw it into the field, and I don't know where it's gone to," replied Agnes. " Then I want my rake," said Martha. But Agnes was endeavouring to dig up a large stone with the teeth of the rake, and in her efforts, the stick snapt in two. The colour rose into Martha's cheeks, and the tears into her eyes, as she exclaimed : " There now, Agnes ; you have broke my rake."

"I could not help it," returned Agnes, carelessly; but when she saw Martha take up her pinafore to wipe away the tears that were coursing each other down her chubby, good-natured face, the little heart was touched ; and saying, " Never mind, Martha ; I'll lend you mine," she ran to the passage where her own rake was hanging against the wall, and handed it to her sister ; a proceeding to which Martha was so sensible, that, before she began to use the utensil, she flung her fat arms round Agnes's neck, and kissed her. But Agnes was now thrown out of employment ; her own ball she had mislaid, Martha's she had flung into the field, and, in a momentary fit of remorse, she had parted with her rake — a combination of misfortunes altogether too great for her philosophy ; so, after watching her sister at work for a few moments, she went and seated herself upon the door-step, with the air and attitude of a disconsolate princess.

She had sat in this position for about ten minutes; and feeling herself, somehow or other, extremely ill-used by fortune, was on the eve of giving vent to her vexation in tears, when there appeared at the garden-gate a boy in a labourer's dress, with an empty sack hanging over his shoulder. "Ha! Gibby!" exclaimed Agnes, jumping up and running towards him, " have you seen my ball ?" " No, I haint," said Gibby ; « have you lost it ?" " I had it yesterday playing in the orchard," an swered Agnes ; " but I can't think where it went to; and I have thrown Martha's over the paling into the field, and I can't find it." " I'll look for it by and by, when I have done my work," said Gibby. " I've got a message from the Abbey, for misses," added he. " I've been up with a sack of taters, and I saw Mrs. Meadows, and they're going to have strawberries and cream up there to-morrow; and she's asked you and your sister to go."

Agnes waited to hear no more, but with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, away she flew to tell her mother, the good news, whilst Gibby proceeded to impart his intelligence to Martha, who appa rently listened to it with more surprise than pleasure ; at all events, she made no remark, but having stood for a few moments in silence, as if meditating on what she had heard, she resumed her work, and recommenced raking her garden as assiduously as before the interruption. In the meantime, Gibby proceeded to the house, where he found Mrs. Crawford already in the passage, enticed clown stairs by Agnes to hear what he had to say. "An't we to go to the .Castle, Gibby?" cried Agnes eagerly. " Mrs. Meadows sends her compliments," said Gibby, "and says as how there's to be strawberries and cream to-morrow for all the servants; and there's to be a dance afterwards on the lawn ; and she wants the misses to go !"

" Shall I wear my white frock, mother ?" in quired Agnes. " I'm afraid it's too short," said Mrs. Crawfurd ; " you've grown a great deal since you wore it." Agnes looked rather grave at this intimation ; but her mother, proposing to decide the momentous ques tion by an immediate reference to the article itself, it was happily discovered that there was a tuck to be let down, which removed all anxiety with regard to the toilet. The threads were drawn out on the spot, the frock was damped and spread in the sun, and on the foUowing day a hot iron carefully ad ministered by the mother's experienced hand, brought the dress into a wearable condition. Whilst Agnes was watching these processes with very considerable interest, Martha had never ex pressed the slightest curiosity with respect to her attire at all.

Nor did she evince any mortification, when, on the following evening, she and her sister started for the Castle, under the protection of John Gibson, to see herself dressed in a spotted cotton frock, whilst Agnes was attired in white muslin. John walked between them, holding a hand of each, tending them with the care rather of a brother than a servant, helping Martha to mount the stiles, lifting Agnes over them, and setting her down upon her two tiny feet with a glad playfulness, as if he revelled in the comparison betwixt his own robust frame and the light fragile form that he swung in the air as easily as if it had been stuffed with eider down. Whilst Agnes chatted away in a flutter of excitement at the prospect of the gaiety that awaited her, and elated by the agreeable consciousness of her white frock, Martha walked steadily on the other side, divided betwixt pleasure and timidity ; not that she was morally timid, or even shy, but she was humble.

The servants at the great house, specimens of whom occasionally visited the farm for one purpose or another, were enveloped in a sort of mysterious grandeur to both of them, but whilst Agnes felt no misgivings with respect to her introduction to these sublime people, Martha had somewhat the sensations of a young lady going to her first drawing room. But by no means thrown off her equilibrium, she remained calm and quiet ; nor was she in the least embarrassed when being delivered by John Gibson into the care and guidance ofthe dairy-maid, they were conducted into the awful presence of Mrs. Meadows, in her own particular sanctorium. " Farmer Crawfurd's children, Ma'am," said Lizzy, as she opened the door. " Come in, my dears," said Mrs. Meadows, who, assisted by the still-room maid, was filling sundry vessels' with strawberries, cream and sugar, prepara tory to the coming feast.

" Sit down, there's good children," said she, scarcely looking at them, and continuing her occupation, whilst she warned Esther not to fill the bowls so full, and bade Lizzy bring more milk with less cream in it. The two little girls seated themselves on the edge of the same chair, Martha looking about the room and observing what was in it ; Agnes more occupied with herself, wondering rather that she and her white frock excited no more attention ; but for some time both remained utterly unnoticed. When the bowls were filled, the maids carried them out on trays to the servants' hall, and it was not until they had nearly all dis appeared, that .Mrs. Meadows bethought herself of asking her little visitors if they liked strawberries, and such like easy questions for beginners. The next stage in the proceedings, Lizzy having announced that all was ready, was to adjourn to the servants' hall, where the whole establishment was assembled.

Mrs. Meadows placed herself at the head of the table, Mr. Wighting, the butler, seated himself at the foot, and the feast commenced. There was not much conversation; strawberries are very pleasant things to eat, but they do not make people merry ; a stray observation from a smart footman, or a giggle from one of the maids was all that was heard, and even these manifestations were a good deal restrained by the dignified presence of the upper-servants, who were quite biases with regard to strawberries and cream, and who had too nice a sense of their own importance to be lively. The only person to whom Agnes found herself an object of any interest, was an æsthetic lady's maid, who, struck by the child's beauty and innate grace, paid her considerable attention. When the feast was over, the whole party adjourned to the lawn in front of the house, where the village band was already performing for the entertainment of the young people of the family, who, with several visitors of their own age, where assembled in the verandah.

"Whilst the servants danced, Martha and Agnes sat upon the grass watching the scene with considerable interest ; Agnes's curiosity, in the meanwhile, being not a little awakened by the glimpses that reached her through the festoons of scarlet and white creepers that partly shaded them from her view, of sundry flounced white frocks, adorned by pink and blue sashes, and sleeves looped up with ribbons to match. Presently this young party was joined by some elder persons, and after a short conference, it was announced that the }roung ladies and gentlemen were going to make up a dancing party of their own, whereupon they descended the steps and ranged themselves on one side of the lawn, whilst the ser vants occupied the other. " Oh !" said Louisa Grosvenor, " Lionel has no partner. What shall we do for a partner for him ?"

" I dare say he does not care about dancing, do you Lyley ?" said Frances. " Yes he does," answered Louisa ; " why should he not dance as w7ell as we ? besides we want another couple for a vis-a-vis," and after looking about, she added : " I wonder if mamma would let that little girl dance with us ? May she mamma ?" she continued, as she bounded up to the verandah. " She looks a very nice little girl. I mean the little girl in the white frock." " I dare say she cannot dance, my dear," replied Lady Grosvenor. " Meadows," said she, addressing the housekeeper, " whose children are those ?" and as she spoke, she took up her glass to survey them. " They are Farmer Crawfurd's children, my Lady," answered Meadows, " I just asked them to eat a few strawberries, poor things." " Very right," said Lady Grosvenor, " bring them here, Meadows."

But before the housekeeper had time to obey, Louisa bad dragged the now some what abashed, but not unwilling Agnes to the verandah. " Look, mamma, isn't she a pretty little girl ? And only think, she's called Agnes. Isn't it a pretty name ?" " A pretty creature, indeed !" remarked the Hon. Mrs. Leslie. " What fairy feet," exclaimed Lady Minevar. " And can you dance, Agnes ?" inquired Lady Grosvenor. " I don't know," answered Agnes, hanging down her head, and biting the tips of her rosy fingers. " I'm certain she could, mamma," said Louisa, " we could teach her the figure, and Lionel can't dance without a partner." " Well you can try if you like," said Lady Grosvenor; whereupon Louisa conducted Agnes to the spot where the other chddren were aw-aiting this decision, and putting her hand into that of her brother Lionel, she told her that he was her partner, and that they would instruct her what to do ; and then the music struck up, and the quadrille com menced : of course Agnes had to be pushed about from place to place, and it was not easy at first to steer her through a demie queue de chat, or chaine des dames ; but when Lionel took her two hands and whirled her round, and when they danced the ronde of the finale, Agnes directed by her good ear, yield ing joyously to the excitement of the music, made her first essay in stepping to time, and galloped along as lightly as the others.

" You see, mamma, she'll very soon dance, when we have given her a little instruction," said Louisa. " I dare say she will," said Lady Grosvenor, " Have you never Uad any dancing lessons ?" inquired Lionel, as he gave Agnes his arm, and walked across the lawn with her. " No ;" answered she. " Oh ! you should have Mr. Le Mesurier, that teaches us," said he. " He is a capital master. I suppose you don't know how to waltz ?" " No !" answered Agnes, who had never even heard the word. " It's such fun !" said Lionel, " going round and round ; and at first it made us so giddy, that we all fell down on the top of one another !" — this striking Agnes as eminently comical, she burst into a merry laugh ! " I think you're a very nice little girl!" said he; "and I like you better than Georgina Minevar ; — do you know her ?"

" No !" answered Agnes. " She's so cross and affected !" he continued ; "we none of us like her much. But it is a pity you can't dance ! What's your name ?" " Agnes Crawfurd ?" " Don't you think Agnes Crawfurd shoidd have lessons of M. Le Mesurier?" asked Lionel of Louisa, who now called upon the young party to form another quadrille. Louisa did think so ; and whilst she arranged the set, she determined to ask her mamma to allow Agnes to be present at the dancing lessons. " You know, mamma," said she, "we are always wanting somebody in Georgina's place, because she has so often got a pain somewhere ; and then we have more boys than girls, and Agnes wrould do to fill up." Lady Grosvenor said she would think about it, and hear what Madame Charpentier the governess, said on the subject. In the meanwhile, Agnes was im proving rapidly in the art of steering her way through the mazes of the dance, whilst she was, at the same time, making considerable progress in the estimation of her new companions, who took her into the house to show her their playthings, and give her a ride on the rocking-horse.

Louisa presented her with a somewhat faded beauty of a wax doll, Lionel gave her the surviving members of an old Noah's Ark; and even Frances, who cared less about her, contributed a pair of doll's shoes. Then they led her into the drawing-room, where they gave her cakes, and asked everybody if she was not a nice little girl, till, with her cheeks flushed with pleasure, she was committed to the care of John the footman, who received orders to conduct her to Mrs. Meadows's sanctorium again.

Chapter III

During the progress of these little events, Martha had remained where she was first placed, very much overlooked and forgotten, till Mrs. Meadows, fancying the dew was beginning to fall, thought it advisable to re-enter the house. Then she took the child by the hand, and led her away. " Your sister is gone in with the young ladies," said she ; " you shall go with me, and wait till they send her down." So when Agnes arrived, she found Martha sitting on the edge of a chair, and munching a piece of cake. Although Agnes had a good deal overcome her awe of the flounced frocks and broad sashes above stairs, and before they parted had become tolerably familiarized with the young people, there VOL. I. C was something in the cold, rigid atmosphere of Mrs. Meadows and her apartment that suppressed her natural confidence ; so that, after being complimented on her new acquisitions, and interro gated as to whether she had had a ride on the rocking-horse, she edged herself on a corner of Martha's chair, stealthily exhibiting her toys, and heartily wishing for Gibby to take her home.