Isabel, the young Wife and the old Love

Chapter I. Hyde Park And Elsewhere

It was some months after the occurrence narrated in the latter part of the last chapter, and the days were fast becoming longer, and nigh the longest, and London was rapidly ad vancing to the height of the season, when Everitt Brookbank, mounted on an elegant and wicked grey hack, rode past Apsley House, and turned into Rotten Row. At first there were few equestrians to bear him company, and his VOL. II. D ISABEL. horse had ample room to plunge and flourish about in, indignant at the tight reins which held it within twenty yards of the entrance to the riding-ground. It was clear to the observer that Everitt had taken up his position, either to await the advent of a friend, bent like himself on a canter, or to catch a nod of recognition from some carriage, as it crossed from Piccadilly into the ring.

However reasonable such conduct may appear to those who themselves like to take their gallops in company, or to receive smiles in public, from their partners of the previous night, to Everitt's steed it appeared a tyranny justi fying rebellion ; so after fretting and chafing and foaming for a quarter of an hour, she (for the animal was a lady) alternately danced on her hind legs, and lashed out with them right and left, in a style that soon attracted attention. " Stupid fool ! — since he has a horse, why does he not learn how to manage it ?" growled Mr. Markton Grundlegrile from the foot-way. Grundlegrile could not ride, had no horse, had ISABEL. no friends, — nor had he loveliness of any kind ; but in fine weather he daily took walking exercise in the park, goodnaturedly telling himself what he thought of every one else, and finding out that every well-mounted equestrian was either a tailor, or a coxcomb showing himself off on a hired horse.

"Take care of that terrible creature — do, dear Fanny," timid Gertrude implored of her cousin — taking as she spoke, every precaution to steer her quiet pony out of the reach of danger. " How I should like to have that dear grey for my own ! — What a shame it is of papa not to allow me a good horse !" answered Fanny Firebell with a mad laugh, as her mettlesome bay, catching the contagion of riot, leaped forward. " How long have you taken to riding that brute ?" asked Lord Brigden quietly, as he rode up from Constitution Hill, followed by a groom. " You had better ask me how long I am going to ride her?" Everitt replied coolly — modest B ISABEL. in the confidence that it would be difficult to find the horse capable of unseating him. " Come along with me — she'll be quiet, walking by the side of Bangor," said his lordship, patting the neck of his black charger, as the grey, humbled by finding herself in firm hands, and exhausted by her violent outburst of feeling, gave signs of returning to a quiescent state.

"Thank you — I am waiting here for a friend." " 'Tis no use." " How do you know ?" " Friends never come — at least, the one you are waiting for will not." Everitt's colour rose, but he had learnt that anger was thrown away on the man who ad dressed him. "I am not trifling with you. I saw Miss Leatheby half an hour since, and she told me she could not keep her appointment here." " Her appointment ?" ISABEL. 5 " Yes ; — it was arranged that I was to sit on Bangor, at this point, till her carriage passed, and then she was to bow to me, — and I was to feel quite happy till dinner-time." " You are in Miss Leatheby's confidence, I see," rejoined Everitt, flattering himself that his rage was not perceived, as he jerked his mare round to accompany his persecutor. " You flatter me." " Don't insult me, Lord Brigden, with this infernal affectation of sarcasm," answered Everitt, his wrath, so recently subdued, bursting forth.

" If we are enemies, let us be open ones. — Have the courage to be as candid as I am." "What about?" " You love Miss Leatheby ?" " Fudge ! — Everitt, you know better than I can tell you, that I love no one — and am not capable of caring for anything so much as I do for the horse I ride." " You may not love her — but you mean to marry her if you can." ISABEL. "My dear Brookbank, you wrong me in attributing to me so much presumption," Lord Brigden answered slowly — stroking his dark moustache. " I am old, really old, though I still manage to get myself up to a passable pitch of dandyism ; she is young ; I am what the religious story-books call a withered sinner ; — she is — but I'll leave it to you to paint her excellences. — Honestly, do you think she would accept me if I offered to her ?" Everitt was silent with pure astonishment.

" Then why taunt me with a hopeless passion ? — There, enough has passed on this subject. — I want to say something to you on another." " I am a ready listener." " Everitt Brookbank, you have taken a strange dislike to me — a very strong one, but I will not call it unreasonable. Your suspicion, however, that my professions of regard for you are not sincere I must deem unaccountable. — You at tacked me more after the fashion of a wild Indian than a well-bred gentleman, simply because I ISABEL. 7 told you that it was no use your wasting your time in looking out for Miss Leatheby. — Would you have preferred me to ride on, chuckling with satisfaction in the consciousness that you were depriving yourself of a gallop to no purpose ?" " I was hasty." " I requested Miss Leatheby not to come.' " You ?"

" I told her I had an important communication to make to you, and that I would thank her not to carry you off from my cool wisdom. So she accompanied her mother to a charity bazaar, and allowed me to come on here alone." " I am obliged to you. And what important business have you to communicate to me, that induced you to send the lady we have been men tioning to Hanover Square ?" " Would you like to go into Parliament ?" Everitt started round in his saddle at the question, and looked earnestly and with surprise at Lord Brigden. ISABEL. Your lordship is playing with me." " On my honour I am not. You are perhaps aware, that I have some trifling influence in the political world ; but you, doubtless, do not know that the representation of Ardlebridge, the place for which I sat when I was a boy, is at my dis posal.

Will you have it ?" "At what cost? — I am not a rich man." "The expenses will not be a penny beyond your fare down and back again. It's a chance for you ; I don't want you to thank me ; all I want of you is not to reject my offer." " What principles do the people want in their member? that's a great point." " Oh ! — you'll be able to accommodate them." " You don't question my sincerity ? or suppose I would either tamper with the honour of others, or allow my own to be trifled with ?" " What are your principles ?" Looking at him with an expression of pride and dislike, Everitt replied — " I have told you ISABEL. more than once. You have often heard me express my sentiments on politics." " Yes ; — but, excuse me, how should that enlighten me on the subject? I am not asking you what it is your habit to talk, but what you are ready to do."

" You think it highly improbable that a man's action should fulfil the promise of his words ?" " Exactly so. You young men have such a proneness to indulge in magnificent professions and ignominious behaviour, that really there's no knowing where to catch you. The men of my day had this advantage over you — their moral code was lax, and their general conversation utterly disreputable, but they never falsified the assertions of their lips. This is the harvest time of cant." " Come, my misanthrope, you wont put me down amongst the hypocritical tongues," Everitt answered laughing, amused, as he always was when Lord Brigden assumed the tone of a patri archal cynic. ISABEL. " There are other cants than that of Exeter Hall. There is the exalted benevolence cant, and the liberalism cant, and the æsthetic cant — the name is legion."

" But — to return to principles." " You mean, to hats." " Call them what you wiU, let us talk of them." " It'll be time enough to do that when you are on the hustings. However, to be earnest, — the member for Ardlebridge must be a quiet orthodox Conservative, nothing extreme ; he'll be able to cut in with a coalition ministry, or receive a post from a Whig minister ; but a re former he must not be." "Which undesirable character I am. So I have only, with many thanks for your kind offer, to decline it," Everitt replied quietly and firmly, patting the neck of his gray, who was again manifesting impatience for a gallop. "Don't refuse in a hurry; — accept quickly, if you will. You shall have three days to make up your mind in ; more time I cannot allow. Let ISABEL. 11 us think no more about the matter now. — What say you to a canter ?"

As he spoke, Lord Brigden put his heel to the side of Bangor, and the noble creature bounded forward — not impetuously, but with a calm velocity. Everitt responded, by giving his mare the rein, the effect of which was, that he dashed past Fanny Firebell at a pace that once more roused that young lady's ambition to possess the fiery gray. An hour after their start, the two equestrians, their horses speckled with foam and bright with ardent eyes, quitted the park and turned into Oxford Street. As they proceeded down that noble thoroughfare, many an eye of admiration was directed to them from the crowd. " Look there. Do you see that highly respectable beggar woman standing there with a basket of combs and a tray of buttons for sale ?" asked Lord Brigden. " Certainly. I have often observed her ; she is an old acquaintance of mine ; and when she ISABEL. used to stand at the top of Constitution Hill, I often used to buy something of her, for gifts she wont accept.

You are wrong in calling her a beggar." " She used to have a child in her arms, — a very good dodge in her trade, I daresay ; but, perhaps she is badly off just now, and cannot afford to hire an infant." " Perhaps the child was her own and her only one, and death has taken it." " No such luck. — But, by all the wonders of the universe," continued Lord Brigden, turning in his saddle to look back to the object of their discussion, " there's Hugh Falcon pulling up and speaking to her !" " Does he shake hands ?" " The lady has lost her right one, so he can not show her that mark of confidence." " He is very generous to the poor ; perhaps he wishes to relieve her." " Or to study her character for his next book." " It must be an unusual effort of romance that ISABEL. shall put much that is interesting into the narrative of her dreary life."

" By the way, Brookbank, to ask a question once more — how long have you ridden that animal ?" " Some three weeks." " Have you bought her of Coppey ?" " No ; — I hire ' my Arab steed.' But how came you to know that the world contained a Coppey ?" " ' How do I know ?' My dear Everitt, how can you be surprised at my knowing anything and everything ? — But here's Bond Street. So, fare you well. Mind, in three days. Don't fail to consider your best interests." With a slight nod and these parting words, Lord Brigden turned down Bond Street, and left Everitt to continue his ride, or bring it with all speed to a close in the stables of Mr. Coppey. The young man had material wherewith to occupy his thoughts. Unsolicited, a prize, such an one as less fortunate men fruitlessly spend ISABEL. years in striving for, had fallen into his hands.

Should he reject it, simply because he would have to vote in favour of half-a-dozen objec tionable measures which would not be carried, and against the same number of bills, in opposi tion to which there were, after all, very sensible arguments ? As to principles — a man did not enter the House to tell the world his own principles and his own opinions, but to represent the principles and opinions of the individuals who sent him to the senate. Indeed, the position of a popular member was one that made immorality in its holder impossible, so long as he faithfully did what his constituents wished. The electors of Ardlebridge stood in need of an advocate to represent their interests in the great national assembly — why should he, a bar rister, refuse the brief, simply because he consi dered that those interests were not all important in the state ?

The same hyper-delicacy that would restrain a man from exercising his talents in behalf of a constituency whose views he did ISABEL. 15 not approve, ought also to withhold him from pleading in the law courts for a client with a weak case ; and yet, who would not fail to laugh at him, if, on moral grounds, he declined to argue a cause before the judges, alleging as a justifica tion, that he was engaged on the wrong side ? What golden harvests this opportunity rightly treated might lead to ! He should immediately acquire position and social status, and, a matter of far greater value, he should obtain a chance of early distinction. If he could make himself useful to his party, and obtain the ear of the House ; if the politicians of St. Stephen's would only treat him with a little of that flattering attention the Cambridge Union had honoured him with, he might dismiss from his mind all painful feelings arising from the difference in wealth between himself and Miss Leatheby, and he might prosecute his suit to her in the confidence that she would not, even as regarded worldly position, act unwisely in giving herself to him !

ISABEL. Had Lord Brigden been at his side, as these and a thousand other ensnaring and intoxicating thoughts passed rapidly through the young man's mind, his lordship would have been in no danger of hearing a second refusal of his liberal offer. What the motive of that singular nobleman was in the friendly overture he had made to Everitt, it would be difficult to say. Perhaps he had conceived an affection for the ardent, generous nature of Everitt, so unlike his own jaded and vitiated self; it may be that he had some secret vanity to gratify in advancing the youth to honour ; — it is by no means improbable that he was actuated by an infernal desire to corrupt the young man's integrity by inducing him to gainsay his political profession. Anyhow, whatever motive he had, he was not a man likely, even though he recognised it, to avow it in distinct terms.

Though he bound Everitt to secresy with regard to the approaching vacancy at Ardle bridge, Lord Brigden had admitted one other ISABEL. person to his confidence, to whom, after he had dined in a quiet corner of his favourite club, he wrote the following note : — "In my nook in ' the Belvidere.' " " I met the mad boy in the park ; such a gallant swell — dressed well and in good taste, as he always is; whiskers waxed, clustering locks to vie with those of Paris, and mounted on a frantic little devil of an iron-gray mare that was scatter ing one awful cloud of mud and confusion all around. Honestly, I admire your selection, as far as externals go ; with regard to other matters, whether his intellectual and moral peculiarities are likely to allow him to cherish any great regard for you when he comes to know you as well as I do, and whether he is calculated to do all that your worldliness will require, you are the best judge.

I have done my best to serve you, and to compel you from this time forth to own that abnegation of self is amongst the virtues of your correspondent. If he be no. VOL. II. c ISABEL. too squeamish, he shall have my seat in parliament ; and, under certain circumstances, I'll do my best to help him to marry the only woman in the world whom I value more than a good pointer. " At first he was magniloquent about princi ples, and all other hats, and refused the offer indignantly. I laughed, and made him recal his rejection, and take three days for consideration. He will now have time to see all the advantages of a place in the senate, and having looked thereon he will — fall. I positively mourn in anticipation over the moral wreck he will be. You recollect Marguerite did not care for the diamonds till she had seen them, and been daz zled by their brightness.

Anyhow, whatever his decision may be, I shall have done you good service ; if his integrity shall not be shaken, you may love him as a hero ; if he take the worldly course, and be guided in the selection of his vocation by the tools fortune has given him, you may marry him without distrust, and be ISABEL. assured, that as your husband, he will achieve at least a respectable position. I wish I could accomplish more, so as to prove the peculiar nature of the passion with which you have in spired me ; for I am almost as much interested in studying it, as in plotting for you. " I saw my broker after I kissed hands with you this morning. I have turned over a clear seventeen hundred pounds out of that little transaction in the city, and have pru dently removed my vessel from the troubled waters.

You are right ; money is power, and soon I shall have nothing besides money to care about. God, bless you, my least bad of women. " Brigden." When he had enclosed this letter in an en velope, had duly sealed it, and legibly directed it to Miss Leatheby, Lord Brigden consigned it to the letter-box for the post. The next morning it lay amongst a dozen other missives on the breakfast table at which c ISABEL. Frances Leatheby, delicate, refined in intellect, and beautiful by a singularly feminine elegance of form and style, took her seat in solitude ; for Mrs. Leatheby (constantly suffering from ill health) and her child never breakfasted together, or saw each other before the middle of the day. " Ah ! a letter from Lord Brigden," said Frances, immediately her eye fell on the assem blage of epistles ; " and not one from Barker.

I declare I will have a new attorney, if that man is not more attentive. Well, then, Lord Brigden shall take precedence of the rest — that is but fair." Sipping her cocoa, and perusing the letter leisurely, she was a subject such as a Pre- Rafaelite painter would delight in depicting. Her graceful form, not lost in the pretty lounge chair she occupied; her rich, dark hair, accurately dressed; the long lashes concealing the eyes that were the principal source of animation to her delicate face; her thin, pink lips, her tasteful morning costume, the rich and harmo- ISABEL. 21 nious appointments of her boudoir, the few good pictures, the Sevres breakfast service, the pattern of the carpet, the tint of the paper, the colour of the draperies, — all contributed to the picture. " Will he fall ? will the tempter triumph ?

I am afraid not," she said, as she laid the letter down, after having perused it twice. " Little hope for him, I am afraid. Oh, that he would let me love him !" she continued, after a pause. " But why afraid ? have not I still Lord Brigden ? What a man he is ! If he were but younger, what a career there would be before us, with our united wealth and genius ! True, he is a wicked man — a very wicked man ; but self-interest is more powerful than virtue, and, as this world goes, is almost as beautiful." ISABEL. 22

Chapter II

A MEETING OF OLD FRIENDS. " You were in a brown study, and did not turn till I had spoken twice. You wont make a good trade if you don't look sharper for customers." It was with these words that Hugh Falcon addressed Madge Gardiner in Oxford Street, just as Lord Brigden and Everitt passed on upon their horses. " I was dreaming, sir, 'tis true," answered Madge. " And what about ?" The woman coloured and hesitated before she ISABEL. replied, " You can guess, sir ; 'twas about Nancy and her friends." " I bring you a message from one of them — the lady whom I told you I should see. She gave me a capital account of Nancy, who is already making a figure in school." " Will the lady see me ?" " You may call on her when you like, and you will be admitted. The address is Miss Nugent, Elm Cottage, Slaughton.

Any one will direct you to the house, when you have arrived in the village. Do you know the way ?" Mrs. Gardiner did know the way, and was very grateful for the permission to call on her benefactress. , " And how are you ? How do you get on without the little one ? You must miss her." " Very much — more than I can tell. At first it was a cruel privation to have to go about alone, although I had the privilege of seeing her every day. And I used, sir, to find myself a crying and making all sorts of fears about her, ISABEL. thinking that since God had made her blind, it was presumptuous in me to wish to have it altered, and fretting that some harm would come to her when she no longer had her mother's arms about her. It was very foolish of me, but I soon got better when Mr. Hassell scolded me (not in anger, sir), and told me that it was not so much for the girl as myself that I grieved, and that I oughtn't to be so selfish."

" Well, Miss Nugent will make some arrange ment for your seeing the child whenever you like. The mistress of the Orphan Institute will have orders to admit you daily." As Hugh moved on, after having made this communication, the woman simply but very warmly thanked him for his kindness. " It has altered the whole world to me, sir, the having friends to speak gently to me i'the streets. It don't only make my lot easy, but it almost causes me to be thankful that I am no better than am. " How so ?" ISABEL. 25 " Why, sir, as I stand here a selling these cheap articles, and manifest to all passers as an object for charity and benevolence, I receive such attentions as you are so good as to bestow on me, without the pain of the danger of some one looking on at all connecting you with my poverty and lowliness : whereas, if I was a few moves higher up, and you met me, not working in the streets, but going to employment in a house, I should not like you to stop and speak with me, for fear folks should think there was something like an equality between us.

Do I make myself plain, sir ?" " There's no disgrace in poverty," said Hugh. Madge looked at him, tall, and graceful, and fashionably dressed, glanced at a miserable ob ject, bent double with years of toil and poverty, shambling along the kerb-stone in rags, raised her eyes upwards, and then replied, " God grant, sir, that you may never prove what you say, in your own person." Hugh proceeded in the direction of the city ; ISABEL. the woman moved on a few paces towards the Park, and the crowd of urchins, whom curiosity and wonder had assembled round the unusual sight of a gentleman in conversation with a poor woman, broke up and merged in the streams of pedestrians. Madge, however, did not continue long at work after separating from her patron, for the impulse seized her to take a holiday. Although Hugh had caught her dreaming, she had driven a brisk business that morning, and positively found herself in possession of a clear ninepence from the day's sale, after deducting the price she had to pay for the articles she vended.

On the strength of this wealth Madge determined forth with to avail herself of the permission just granted her, and to present herself that very evening to Miss Nugent. As much stirred at the prospect of such dissi pation, as many young ladies are by the near approach of their first London ball, Madge started off to the other side of the river, and ISABEL. arrived at the Elephant and Castle before it was quite dark ; and at the door of that celebrated house of entertainment, she got into an omnibus that engaged to convey her to Slaughton for sixpence. Madge's plan was to sup, after having made her call, on what the remaining threepence of her day's earnings would procure her, and to conclude her holiday by walking home to her distant corner of Whitechapel. The night had fairly closed in, when, in answer to Mrs. Gardiner's summons, the door of Elm Cottage was opened by a maid whose face be tokened some small amount of astonishment at such a visitor at such an hour.

" Is the lady at home ?" " Whom do you mean by the lady ?" " Miss Nugent. Is she at home ?" " Yes ; she is back from evening service. What do you want with her ?" " To see her. Mr. Hugh Falcon told me the lady would see me if I called. I am the mother of a little girl the lady has been good to." ISABEL. The mention of Hugh's name removed the suspicion that had taken possession of the do mestic's charitable breast that Madge had called more with a view to obtain possession of the umbrellas in the hall, than with any more honest purpose. " Step in — and I'll ask if Miss Nugent can y> see you. The answer to the inquiry was satisfactory, and before another minute had elapsed Madge was shown into a room, furnished as a library, and containing a large round table, whereat sat Miss Nugent by a shaded lamp, with papers and writing materials before her.

" I beg pardon, madam, for coming at such an hour as this, but Mr. Falcon did not tell me I might come till it was late i' this afternoon, and once having got the leave I could not stop away." " I am glad to see you, and this time is as convenient for me as any other. You have not seen Nancy for a fortnight ; you must long to ISABEL. see her. She is a nice little child, and will, I am sure, do well ; she is already a pet of mine." The lamp, which was the only source of light in the room, with the exception of a not bright fire, was so shaded that Miss Nugent was in such darkness that the features of her face were invisible to Madge, though the latter stood in a full light before the lady of the house. " I will give you a note to the matron of the Institute, and she will, I doubt not, in compliance with my request, allow you to visit Nancy as often as you wish," resumed Miss Nugent in the dark. — " Don't stand ; sit down while I write a few lines of introduction."

Madge complied, and took a seat. " How old are you ?" inquired Kate, when she next spoke, after having laid aside her pen. " Treading close on forty-five, ma'am." " You were not young, when you married ?' " I was not, ma'am. I married late, but I married well. My husband was a good man." ISABEL. " He was a sailor ?" "The same, madam. We married at Ply mouth, when I was at service." " Oh ! then you were a house-servant before you married ?" " For many years, but not in many places." " In whose families did you live ?" " First in Dr. Ardlow's, and afterwards in Squire Hereford's, in Somersetshire." " In what capacity were you engaged ?" " As housemaid." " What family had Dr. Ardlow ?" " Only a daughter, madam, and a lady, who was governess to her, for Mrs. Ardlow was dead." " I used to know Dr. Ardlow, and stay in his house, so your having lived with him gives me an interest in you.