The Cliffords of Oakley. A tale

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HJr. |Mr£f« |Uto In 3 vols., 31s. Gd. (Just Published). MARRYING FOR MONEY. By Mrs. MACKENZIE DANIELS. IN THE PRESS. In 3 vols., price 31s. Gd. (In February.) SCAPEGRACE AT SEA. By the Author of " Cavendish," " The Flying Dutchman," Ac, Ac. In 2 vols., price 21s. (In February.) THE WOMAN OF SPIRIT. In 3 volt., price 31s. Gd. (In March.) RIGHT AND LEFT. By Mrs. C. NEWBY, Author of "Mabel," "Sunshine and Shadow," Ac. In 3 vols., price 31s. Gd. (In March.) YORKE HOUSE. By W. PLATT, Esq., Author of " Betty Westminster," Ac. In 2 vols, price 21s. (In March.) THE DULL STONE HOUSE. By KENNER DEENE, Esq. In 2 vols., 21s. (In March.) MORTEFONTAINE; OR, A MARRIAGE AT THE MADELEINE. By the Chief of Clandouchadt of Mar. In 1 vol., post Svo. ANCIENT POETRY: "WITH SOME FRESHER. By WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. A TALE.

By CHARLOTTE HARDCASTLE, Author of " Constance Dale." IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. H. iLonton: T. CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. 1862. [The Right of Translation is Reserved.]

Chapter I. Friendly Advice

Your honour's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to act a pleasant comedy, For so your doctors hold it very meet : Seeing too much sadness hath congealed your blood, And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy, Therefore they thought it good you hear a play, And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, "Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life. — Taming of the Shrew. Margaret's eyes were now opened to the danger she was wilfully incurring, and she set herself seriously to examine'the nature of VOL. II. B her feelings towards Lord Raymond. She admired his genius, his handsome face, and noble hearing, and was dazzled by the charms of his conversation and manners. And she pitied him, for he seemed sad and remorseful at times ; as if blindly seeking something bet ter. With his great talents, and his strong passions guided into a more worthy channel, what might he not become ?

He almost appeared to seek advice and instruction ; looking even to herself for help. To her! A poor, weak woman, seeking guidance and protection on her own account ! He appeared to love her ; (for this could not be trifling ; ) but did she love him, — and dared she undertake the charge ? After many struggles, and much self-questioning, her heart responded ' No !' — -She could not trust him entirely, as she must trust the man she accepted for her husband. She was romantic ; though he had power to interest, and excite her imagination, there was still something wanting — what, she scarcely knew. No, she did not experience those feelings which would impel her to sacrifice everything for his sake ; she doubted whether (though she frequently ap peared to influence him,) she had really gamed any power over him for good; and she began to acknowledge that the feverish excitement of their meetings was not beneficial to herself.

Then she blamed her folly for running blindly into danger ; for daring her fate, mis leading him, and giving rise to false reports. She had heard whispers ; rumours. Mrs. Vivian had laughingly congratulated her upon her brilliant prospects that very evening, and she had felt more flattered and amused than angry. Oh, this was indeed folly ! despicable weakness, — and worse than weakness, on her part ! And whither was it all tending ? She reflected that had it not been for Mrs. Har court's sudden interruption she should probably have been now bound to Lord Raymond for life ; simply because she was unhappy, — and whilst his attentions flattered, his mental and b personal attractions fascinated her imagination ! And all the time she knew scarcely anything about his family, his former life, and what was of still more consequence, his real character.

She felt humbled, ashamed, and almost terrified. It was such a fearful risk ; and with her own passionate feelings, if she were to marry hastily, and afterwards find that she had mistaken her own heart ; or worse still, to love, and yet meet with iinkind ness and neglect, then indeed her happiness would be for ever shipwrecked, and perhaps even her soul imperilled ! In the confusion and excitement of her mind, she wept bitterly, feeling as if she was hemmed in on all sides by snares and insurmountable difficulties, and would gladly escape from them by flight. She passed a wretched, sleepless night, tormented for hours by these perplexing and humiliating thoughts ; but at length it occurred to her to lay her troubles before God, and after praying with the earnestness inspired by urgent necessity, her way appeared more plain.

She saw her duty clearly, grew composed, and slept. She resolved to withdraw herself, as much as circumstances permitted, from Lord Ray mond's company ; but not in such a marked manner as to hurt his feelings. To show him that she esteemed him as a, friend, but not to furnish ground for any further misconceptions of her feelings. And yet she foresaw many difficulties in carrying out this new Line of con duct, and dreaded their next meeting from her heart. But as if to make the path of duty easier, Clara Selwyn paid them a visit that very morning, bringing the inteUigence that some sudden business had carried her cousin up to town, and that it was uncertain when he might return. Margaret breathed more freely ; a few days would make a break, and after wards it would be less difficult to draw back by degrees.

He was away for nearly a week, and when they next met she had made considerable progress in self-control ; and yet his quick eyes discovered that an unfavourable change had taken place. But she contrived never to see him except when so surrounded by other people, that private conversation, or embarass ing questions were impossible ; and without appearing to avoid him, she permitted Mr. Seymour, Mrs. Vivian, Clara Selwyn, or almost anyone who chose to converse with her, to seem to engross her whole attention for the time. And in this manner a few more days of the tedious Westhaven season dragged over, wearily and cheerlessly. But at the end of that period, Lord Raymond, who had his own reasons for feeling peculiarly irritated by such a change, became impatient, and made strenuous efforts to obtain an interview.

But without absolutely asking for one (and perhaps even in that case also), it had become an im possibility ; and therefore, a new plan was in vented by his subtle brain. Clara rushed in one morning, breathless with excitement. " Oh, my dear Margaret, we want you to assist us !" she exclaimed. "lam about to ask a favour, so mind you don't refuse ; there's a dear, kind girl." " That must depend upon circumstances," answered Margaret. " Well then, listen, whilst I explain. We are going to get up some private theatricals, and we must have you to help us." -'This seems a sudden fancy. Are you serious ?" " Perfectly so. We have arranged it all ; even the plays, and we are going to engage a room at the Royal Hotel, as we cannot think of any other large enough to suit our pur pose." " Impossible, my dear Clara !

That would make it far too public a performance." "Nonsense!" cried Clara, laughing at her dismay. " We intend to invite all Westhaven to see what we can do. It will prevent the good townspeople from dying of ennui. Be sides, Gertrude Harcourt, our interesting in valid, is in such a state of health and spirits, that she must be roused (or so the doctors say), so we intend to rouse her by permitting her to appear upon the stage, there to stand still and look pretty; a sort of supernumerary (or stupid-numerary, as the clown denominated it), upon condition that she will ' for three nights only, by particular desire,' lay aside that dreadful frown of hers : otherwise the audience will be downright scared." "Clara, why will you be so ridiculous?" asked Margaret, compelled to laugh. " Ridiculous, my dear !

I never felt more earnest and determined in my life. Come, you mean to join us, I can see." "I think you will find yourself mistaken," was the quiet answer. " But before you attack me, let me hear the list of your dramatis per sona?. It is such a novel scheme." " Ah, is it not? But I will tell you about it with the greatest pleasure ; and then you must be good-natured, and decide, for I have set my heart on seeing you upon the stage. You would be our chief star, — the centre of attraction. All the world would come to see you ; for indeed you were not " Born to blush unseen, And waste your sweetness on the desert air." But stop a moment, whilst I comply with your request. There is myself, of course ; Gertrude Harcourt, Mrs. Vivian, and Louisa Owen. Then for gentlemen, we intend to have, first and foremost, Lord Raymond," (Margaret winced) ; " and Captain Brooke — " " Oh, thank you ; that is quite sufficient !"

" What is the matter? You object to Cap tain Brooke ? Well, then, we will not have him, for he has not been asked at present. A sacrifice to friendship, for he is a famous actor, — but no matter ; I shall enlist Mr. Seymour in his stead. And so long as we have you, I really don't care much about the rest. Ray mond will contrive to make it go off well ; — with your aid, for he counts upon you. So we have your promise?" " No, indeed !" cried Margaret, colouring. b " I must beg you to excuse me. I am not accustomed to the sort of thing, — and indeed, should only prove a dreadful hindrance. Besides — " " I will not listen !" answered Clara. " But you really must not disappoint us. And now I am off in search of Mr. Seymour, for we have no time to lose." And she ran off, full of mischievous spirits, to carry out her scheme.

She was at least half in her cousin's confidence, and had made up her mind that he should marry Margaret, and reform. That it would be the best thing for both of them, in fact : and so, seeing that matters went contrary to her desire, she was determined to follow out a favourite receipt of her own ; which she had often used with effect in similar cases, namely : (I quote her own words ;) — ' When it is desirable to make people go the way you wish, mix their affairs well up together, and stir them round with a long spoon, until they become so involved that no earthly power can set them straight again : then, when that part of the business is completed, do exactly what you will.' ' Therefore she was determined that Marga ret should be inveigled into acting ; trusting to her cousin for the rest.

They had talked over the amateur theatricals that morning, and he, foreseeing some advantage, however the scheme might turn out, had despatched her to her friend. If Margaret consented to appear with him in public, he would make it impossible for her ever to draw back again ; and moreover that would give him many op portunities for private interviews : and if, as he more than half expected, she would decline so wild an undertaking, he fancied that he could turn her refusal to even more account. Thus, he waited impatiently for his cousin's report. Margaret meanwhile, feeling particularly un easy, and annoyed by Clara's folly. The latter had not proceeded very far be fore she met with Mr. Seymour ; and she seized upon him with the greatest eagerness. " How fortunate ! The very person I wished to see !"

Mr. Seymour bowed, and answered : " I feel quite flattered by your preference ; but I imagine that you want my services, rather than myself. Pray what are your commands ?" " We are going to get up some amateur theatricals, and you aid is earnestly requested." " Indeed !" " Yes ; we are weary of waltzes and qua drilles, and therefore have arranged three grand evening entertainments ; to take place the week after next. It is rather a short notice, certainly, but there is no time like the present for business or pleasure. May we count upon your assistance?" " In what way ?" "Asa member of our corps." " Really, Miss Selwyn, I am far too stupid to shine upon the boards. I should only dis grace you if I made the effort." " Really, Mr. Seymour, you are very stupid to refuse. My cousin, Lord Raymond, will be quite put out by all these unmeaning excuses."

" Lord Raymond ! Oh ! It is his scheme ?" said Mr. Seymour, in an altered tone. " Yes, his and mine. You have no business to disappoint us. But if you cannot be prevailed upon on our account, perhaps the inducement of acting in company with a young lady 'who has never appeared on any stage before,' may be a slight temptation." — "Who ? Not Miss Clifford ?" (vehemently.) Clara laughed. " And wherefore not Miss Clifford ?' " I could not have believed it ! You ought to have known better than persuade her! — Good heavens, how improper! — And with Lord Raymond too !" Such were the unconnected sentences which broke from Mr. Seymour's lips ; whilst Clara, (although she really liked him,) could not help enjoying his agony of jealous fear. " And why not ? I cannot see the harm. But you have grown so very particular all at once."

" You cannot? Oh, Miss Selwyn, think of her position. Indeed this must not be ! I implore you to consider — " " I have not time. In fact, everything has been considered most carefully, except your part. Come, will you join us ?" In a coax ing tone. " Not for the world !" cried Mr. Seymour, angrily. And muttering something about folly and impropriety, he turned hastily away : whilst Clara went on, laughing at his evident dis comfiture, and with the comfortable reflection that, for that day at least, she had rendered two of her friends particularly miserable. Margaret would fain have declined going from home that evening, but it was not in her power; and her heart beat nervously when Lord Raymond hastened to meet her with a smile of pleasure : saying : " Thank you, Miss Clifford. Clara tells me we may count upon your aid."

" I assure you that she has quite misunderstood me ; (whether wilfully or no, I cannot tell ;) for I told her decidedly that I could not think of acting," answered Margaret ; feeling much annoyed. Lord Raymond looked disappointed, and for a moment even angry ; saying quickly : " This is too unkind !" " Nay, Lord Raymond, it is you who are unkind. I have good reasons for refusing." " You are right. How could I be so selfish ; so unreasonable, as to wish you to appear in public ? But it was aU a foolish scheme of Clara's. She talked me over, and I really never thought seriously about it till this moment. Now, however, I see that, (laying aside all other considerations,) delicacy alone, would prevent you from joining such an undertaking. I admire you for the decision of character which never yields to what is wrong, or even questionable ; as much as I blame my own weakness in this matter.

And now, let us dismiss this disagreeable subject. Since you will not act, no more will I." " But, Lord Raymond, your case and mine are very different." " I think our habits of thought are remarkably alike. Let who will act, I have not the heart for any follies of the kind just now. Oh, Miss Clifford, how could I feel inclined for thoughtless gaiety, now that I have had the misfortune to incur your deep displeasure?" " Mine ? " exclaimed Margaret, off her guard. " Yes;" in a soft pleading tone ; "you are sadly changed of late. Something has hap pened, but what, I cannot tell. Would that I could ! But my conscience quite acquits me ; unless — " in a still lower voice, and hesitating ; " unless it was my presumption on that even ing — " he looked at her, but she affected for getfulness ; " that evening when you were so grieved about your sister."

" Ah ! Poor Eveline ! She was very wretched, and it made me feel half distracted. I scarce knew what I said or did. But she has quite got over it ; and we are endeavour ing to harden our nerves, for it seems a very necessary process in this amiable world," said Margaret, Avith a forced laugh; adding quickly: "But Mrs. Vivian beckons me. I had quite forgotten — " What, Lord Raymond never heard ; but Margaret passed away from him, and soon appeared deep in conversation with that lady ; whilst he watched her, with an angry flush upon his brow. But he was not the only watcher. Mr. Seymour had had bis jealous eye upon them both, and from their earnestness concluded all was settled ; but still he resolved to speak to Margaret about the plays. Accordingly, upon the first favourable opportunity, he hastened to her ; saying in an agitated voice : "And so, Miss Clifford, you intend to act ?"

Margaret felt provoked; both by his manner, and this renewal of a disagreeable subject ; so she answered coldly : " Pray, who told you so ?" "Miss Selwyn; and" (here the jealousy broke out;) " seeing you engaged in such very earnest conversation with Lord Raymond, I concluded that everything had been arranged." Margaret drew herself up haughtily. " Excuse me, Mr. Seymour ; but I do not consider that you have any right to call me to account." " But I cannot see you rushing headlong to destruction without warning you. This man, — this Raymond, — do you know his charac ter ? His profligate habits are but too well known ; and his temper is beyond conception ; then, it is said that there is madness in his family." Margaret was very angry at this ill-timed revelation. Mr. Seymour's conduct appeared impertinent and interfering ; and she therefore rose from her seat, saying in a tone of marked displeasure : " You have chosen a strange subject for my entertainment.

I must request you to find a more willing auditor." Then, scarcely knowing where to seek for refuge, she established herself between two hum-drum ladies, who talked while she sat silent ; wondering how this would end. But she managed to avoid all further persecution ; Mr. Seymour, meanwhile sitting sad and thoughtful in a distant corner of the room ; and Lord Raymond angry, but resolving to ' bide his time.'

Chapter II. The Plot Thickens

Romeo. — Out of her favour, where I am in love. Benevolio. — Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof. Romeo and Juliet. But Mr. Seymour's words made a deep im pression upon Margaret ; and she could not persuade herself that they were unfounded. Lord Raymond's character and temper were only too well known, and more than that, — there was insanity in the family ! How terrible ! And how wrong of Clara to mislead her ; to conceal or explain away these fearful truths ! Margaret shuddered like one hurried to the brink of a precipice, and wildly sought some means of escape. Once more Lord Raymond was entirely changed in her eyes ; she feared, doubted, and was doubly anxious to avoid him ; her pure mind shrinking with loathing from one who was not entirely pure in heart.

Her very innocence had blinded her till now ; Clara had shocked her at first, but afterwards Margaret had too gladly suffered her to clear her cousin's character ; and she had thenceforth regarded him as a passionate, impulsive, and perhaps, misguided man ; but still, as one free from any actual taint of sin. But now her eyes were partly opened, and she saw, (though even yet but dimly,) that his soul was stained with vices, from the very thought of which she turned with horror. He might repent ; nay, he might already have repented, and resolved to lead a purer life ; but her mind was so constituted, that though she might forgive and pity, she could never overlook the past. There was no longer any danger of her loving him ; and no persuasion, no possible inducement, could now have led her to accept such a person for her husband.

And then the thought of her escape that evening ! What perils were concealed be neath the frivolities and excitement of the life of (so called) gaiety which she was com pelled to lead. And Clara? She was also changed, and Margaret could never love or trust her more. Then came the puzzling question, ' What was she to do in case Lord Raymond, instead of merely amusing himself with her society, had really serious intentions, and should appeal to Lady Somers ?' The more Margaret revolved the difficulties of her situation, the more bewildered she became ; and she had not succeeded in devising any plan of extrication, before she was dressed for another dreary evening from home, to be passed this time at Mrs. Harcourt's house. Then she felt sorry that she had treated Mr. Seymour with such haughty displeasure, for she was convinced that what he said was kindly meant ; his advice and warning were not quite unnecessary, and she reflected with shame upon the impatient spirit in which they had been met.

She was anxious to atone for them, and fancied that it would not be very difficult ; for it seemed to her that a frank confession, and a gentle smile, would be sufficient to induce his kind heart to overlook her fault. She accordingly looked eagerly around in search of him, and was glad to find that he was near enough to understand and answer her summons to approach. He seemed out of spirits, and half afraid to meet her eye ; but its soft expression revived his courage, and it was with real gratitude that he pressed her little white-gloved hand ; in the happy consciousness that his presumption was forgiven. " You are too kind, — too good to me," he said, in a tone expressive of humility and sorrow. " I scarcely expected to be spoken to ao-ain, and I feel now that this is unde- O i served."

" Nay, Mr. Seymour, it is I who ought to ask forgiveness for my childish anger. I ought to have been much obliged to you. But in deed, you must not let me fall in your esteem, for I have always looked upon you as a real and valuable friend." A flash of the wildest pleasure darted from his eyes. " You have ? Can it be possible ?" And then he paused, as if irresolute ; whilst Margaret almost smiled at his simplicity, so different from Lord Raymond's condescending grandeur and refinement. He looked up suddenly, and spoke again. " Miss Clifford !" he hesitated, then went on. " This room is far too hot and crowded for anything like quiet conversation. Do not you find it so ?" " I do," said Margaret, wondering at his embarrassed manner. "Then — shall we seek some cooler — and more private place ?

There is something which I particularly wished to say." Margaret assented, marvelling at his unaccountable behaviour. He seemed so diffident so pre-occupied by this mysterious ' something,' that her woman's curiosity was roused ; the more so that she fancied it might bear reference to Lord Raymond. But she was not only surprised, but even painfully affected, when, having led her to a cool and quiet spot, he broke in upon her reflections by an offer of his heart and hand. This was an event which she had not foreseen, for she had always fancied that he preferred her sister ; and now she was so much moved by his earnest pleadings, his sincere love and admiration for herself, and his lowly estimate of his own merits, that she almost burst into tears ; wishing that it had been possible to return the affection of so true hearted and honourable a man.

But her liking for him did not go beyond esteem ; and she felt that that was not sufficient to meet VOL. II. c either her own or his requirements ; and more over, instinct told her that she was his su perior in intellect. He would have looked up to her, and that was not as she had willed it ; she could have ruled and guided him, and she rather sought a character strong enough to rule and guide her own ; one that she could implicitly rely upon on all occasions. So there was nothing for it but to speak the honest truth, with as much delicacy and gentleness as possible ; though she knew that it was beyond her power to avoid inflicting suffering. " Oh, Mr. Seymour, I thought you loved my sister !" she exclaimed. " Yes ; as a sister! " was the answer. " But my feelings towards yourself are far different !

From the first moment that I saw you, I have thought and dreamed of nothing else. And now — it seems presumptuous — yet tell me that I still may dare to hope ! " But Margaret had no such soothing answer ready; her eyes were filled with sorrowful tears as she pronounced his sentence ; an un yielding, yet a pitying and remorseful judge. He received it meekly, patiently, and without appeal; yet suddenly raising his drooping head with reviving energy, he exclaimed in a tone, which desperation rendered almost fierce ; " At least tell me that Lord Raymond has no hold upon your heart ! Only assure me of that, and I shall be satisfied ! " Margaret, looked at him with clear, .stead fast eyes, which seemed as if falsehood was unknown to them, and answered : " He has not ; nor ever will have, if I dare rely upon myself !

" u Oh, thank heaven ! " in a tone of intense relief. "I can bear anything but that! I think 1 could have borne even that, if he had been more worthy of you, — if it had been for your happiness ; bat you are far too good for either him or me." Q You think far too highly of me. I am but a weak, perplexed, and most unhappy woman ! " answered Margaret, in a sad and c scarcely audible voice. " Forget this inter view, and be a friend to me, as formerly." '" I cannot ! At least not yet ! We cannot meet constantly as we have done hitherto." " No ! It is impossible ! " said Margaret, sorrowfully. " Yet would to heaven that I could help you, — render you more happy I Farewell ! God bless you, Miss Clifford! " He could say no more ; but rising from his seat, prepared to leave her. She held out her hand ; it was clasped tightly, raised to his lips for an instant, and in the next he was gone ; and it was many a long year before they met again.

Margaret remained where he left her ; feeling miserable and lonely. The only person whom, amongst all her Westhaven acquaint ances, she could esteem and trust, had just" gone forth, depressed and sorrowful on her account. It seemed very hard that she should be doomed, not only to suffer, but to inflict such suffering, and it was only by the sternest self-control that she subdued the inclination to shed bitter tears. "Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless." Such was her feeling as she sat alone ; thinking of Lord Raymond, Mr. Seymour, and her own sad destiny. She longed to escape ; to " flee away, and be at rest ; " to do something for herself and Eveline ; but how, and where ? She almost reproached herself for not ac cepting Mr. Seymour — for her sister's sake ; thought of the comforts of a peaceful home, with some one to love her, and assist her endeavours to relieve the sick and needy ; the sinful and unhappy ones, to whom her thoughts so often turned in vain ; and then, a moment afterwards she longed for perfect liberty, and regretted that no honourable, independent career was open to a woman.

She was aroused by Clara Selwyn's voice and step. " Margaret ! are you lost? Good gracious, child, how pale you look ! What have you been doing ? Just now I encountered Mr. Seymour, flying madly from the house. You have not accepted him ; I read that in his looks. He is a good young man — But I con fess I am not sorry on the whole." " Spare me, Clara ! I cannot bear this now !" said Margaret, wearily. " I wish I were at home ! But where is home ? I have none !" " But you may have, dearest, if you please," said Clara, soothingly. " But come, you must look cheerful for an hour or so, and then you may spoil those beautiful eyes in peace." She passed her arm through Margaret's, and led her where she would. They met Lord Raymond before they had proceeded far, and Clara, without giving him time to speak, exclaimed — " I have found our truant.