"Pray, Lady Meredith," said Lady Juliana, with a grave air, "let us have no more of this rattle: Lady St. Aubyn is not fashionable enough to wish to be the _favourite_ of any man but her husband."
"Oh, for heaven"s sake!" cried Lady Meredith, "do not let us make a serious business of it. Be a.s.sured, my dear Lady St. Aubyn, I had no intention of getting you a grave lecture: though really," she added, in a low tone, "I was quite in hopes you were going to be a little like other people, and not be kept in awe any longer by that starched specimen of old maidenism. You cannot think, my dear, how much a little flirting would improve your beauty: then it gives an air of ease and fashion, which, _entre nous_, is the only thing you want to make you quite enchanting."
Ellen only smiled at this rattle, but with an air so little encouraging, she soon put an end to it; yet, to one less fixed in principle, Lady Meredith would have been a dangerous companion; and certain it is, more women are ruined by listening to precepts of this nature, half in earnest, half in jest, accompanied by a sort of _persiflage_ which few can withstand, than even by the wiles of men: against these a woman of virtue is on her guard; but she listens without fear to a female older than herself, and whom she thinks better versed in the ways of the world, till insensibly she adopts the same sentiments, and acquires that hateful worldly tone which affects to laugh at every thing serious and praiseworthy.
Ellen, however, was not so easily misled: her natural penetration detected the fallacy; and all the shafts of Lady Meredith"s ridicule fell, by her, unheeded.
On the way home, Lady Juliana inveighed bitterly against the flirting manners and ill-judged raillery of Lady Meredith, who, she said, instead of improving as she grew older, was every year worse and worse, and was enough to spoil the conduct of a whole nation of women.
"Pray, my dear," said she, "don"t you be led by her nonsense: I hope she will not persuade you to follow her example. Indeed, nephew, I wondered at you for placing that odd, wild-looking young De Montfort next my niece: he does not please me at all."
In short, the old lady was so thoroughly out of humour, that they were very glad to set her down at her own house.
Two or three days after this, Lord de Montfort took leave of the St.
Aubyns, before he left London, on his way with a party of young men to see Oxford and Cambridge, and afterwards to go to the Lakes, not meaning to be again in London till September. He carried with him the most exalted opinion of Lady St. Aubyn, but he thought of her rather as an angel than a woman, and was devoted to her with a purity of attachment inconceivable by the worldly-minded.
CHAP. VI.
She sees once more those lovely plains expand, Where the first flow"ret lured her infant hand.
No where she thinks the sun so mildly gleams, As on the banks where first she drank its beams: So green no other mead, so smiles no other land!
Thou little spot, where first I suck"d the light, Thou witness of my earliest smile and tear-- Loved haunt!
SOTHEBY"S OBERON.
Nothing more of any moment occurred during the stay of Lord and Lady St.
Aubyn in London, for De Montfort"s departure, and the perfect attachment which subsisted between the n.o.ble pair, silenced those tongues, and stopped those remarks, which Edmund"s too obvious admiration had prepared to annoy Lady St. Aubyn.
They left London early in April, and spent the month of May at St.
Aubyn"s, being old-fashioned and _tasteless_ enough not to find any pleasure in broiling through the hot months in the metropolis, and leaving the
"Opening lawns, deep glooms, and airy summits,"
of their own domain untenanted in the most attractive season of the year.
From St. Aubyn"s Castle, the long talked of journey into Wales was to commence. Ellen longed once more to revisit the haunts of her infancy, and to see her father and her early friends; and St. Aubyn willingly consented to gratify her.
The child was to travel with them, attended by the faithful Bayfield and his nurses: they waited till the end of May, knowing that the bad roads of North Wales would be hardly pa.s.sable at an earlier period.
They went from St. Aubyn"s to Shrewsbury, and from thence to Carnarvon, stopping on the way, as in their former journey, to see all that was worthy of observation; and as this route was entirely different from that they had before taken, many new objects presented themselves to their notice. Amongst other picturesque scenes, they pa.s.sed the woody banks of the Dee, whence they obtained a striking view of the beautiful and romantic town of Llangollen, with its church, and elegant bridge, embosomed in trees.
At Llangollen they rested, and though it has in itself nothing particularly interesting, yet its environs afford much sublime and pleasing scenery: amongst these the Vale of Crucis is one of the most lovely secluded situations that fancy can portray; it is adorned by the fine remains of Valle Crucis Abbey, and its back-ground, formed by a lofty mountain, on whose summit stands the venerable ruin of Castle Dinas Bran.
After seeing all that was deserving observation in this charming spot, they proceeded through a fine romantic country to Carnarvon, and from thence to Llanwyllan.
The latter part of the roads were intolerably bad, and the English servants, who had never seen any thing like them, were in momentary expectation of having their necks broken; indeed, Lord Mordaunt"s nurses walked several miles, fearing lest the baby should be injured; and in truth, even Ellen, though fearless for herself, felt a little uneasy for the infant.
All these perils and dangers, however, at length happily past, and Ellen"s heart beat with ecstacy when she saw the white chimnies of Llanwyllan Farm peeping above the ancient oaks around it. The carriages stopt before the house, and in an instant Ellen was folded in the arms of her father: her fair face pressed tenderly to the rough cheek of the good old man, while the mingled drops of filial love and parental affection fell in showers from their eyes: repeatedly Powis clasped his lovely daughter to his heart, and felt enraptured, that though "so great a lady, his dear Ellen had not forgotten him:" at length he was at leisure to see and speak to his n.o.ble son-in-law, and the awkward air of respect he endeavoured to a.s.sume was soon changed to one of more cordial affection by the kind greeting Lord St. Aubyn gave him. In the meantime Ellen stept into the hall where the nurses and servants were waiting, and taking the infant from Mrs. Bayfield, returned with him into the parlour, and with delighted looks, placed him in her father"s arms.
Oh, moment of exquisite bliss! moment which might have repaid the sorrows of many years! Can there be in this world an instant of such pure delight as the daughter feels when she places her first-born on the bosom of a venerable parent.
Some feelings are to mortals given With less of earth in them than heaven; And if there be a human tear From pa.s.sion"s dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek It would not stain an angel"s cheek; "Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter"s head.
SCOTT"S LADY OF THE LAKE.
Mrs. Ross"s domestic talents had been exerted to the utmost to prepare Llanwyllan Farm in the best possible manner for its n.o.ble guests: she did not indeed quite understand all the various arrangements which are absolutely necessary for the tolerable comfort of such a family; but with the a.s.sistance of Dame Grey, who picqued herself on remembering how things used to be when she lived at "Squire Davis"s, and the ready aid of the active Joanna, every thing was far beyond Ellen"s expectations; and as she encouraged no fine lady-like airs in her nursery attendants, nor even in her own woman, none of those vexatious murmurs disturbed her which servants often have the happy art of contriving where no real cause for complaint exists; and certainly the furniture for the nursery was not quite so rich as Lady Juliana had chosen for that at the Castle: the nurses found that the young Lord slept quite as well, and his cheeks bloomed quite as freshly beneath the clean white cotton hangings of this little couch as under the quilted satin cradle at St. Aubyn"s.
The whole party was speedily arranged, for there was plenty of room and abundance of provisions.
The Earl and Countess had brought no more servants than were absolutely necessary; and Bayfield, highly as she was respected by her n.o.ble employers, was not above directing the management of their table, or any other domestic office which could make her useful, and though Powis, at first, thinking her a much greater lady than he had been accustomed to a.s.sociate with, was very much disposed to treat her as his equal; she soon convinced him by her respectful conduct towards her lady"s father that she considered herself as greatly his inferior.
As soon as Ellen had looked round the house, and seen the arrangements for her child"s accommodation settled, she began to be anxious to see her good friends the Rosses; and finding from her father they talked of not coming till the next day, she begged him to give her his arm, and she would walk to the Parsonage: all fatigue, she said, had vanished from the moment she found herself beneath her father"s roof.
"Come, my dear father," said she, "let us all go: the baby shall come too: the dear good people will be delighted to see us; they will give us some tea, and we can return here to eat our fruit supper: you know we never used to eat anything else at night, and I hope the cream is as good as it used to be when I managed the dairy."
Powis looked with delight on the sweet unaffected creature, who was, as he expressed himself afterwards to Mrs. Ross, "Not a bit set up by her high fortune, but just as she used to be when only Ellen Powis."
The infant now "awaking from his rosy nap," and arrayed with the nicest care, his lovely face shaded by a rich lace border to his cap, and his fine cambric robe cut to shew his fair bosom and dimpled arms, with his beautiful mother in a plain white gown and straw hat, attended by St.
Aubyn and Powis, set out for the Parsonage.
On the way, Ellen spoke with the sweetest condescension to all she met, and many of the villagers who knew she was arrived contrived to throw themselves in her way.
Mrs. Howel, who used to do her many little services at the market-town, happened now to cross her path, and profoundly courtesying, would have pa.s.sed on, but Ellen, saying--"Excuse me a moment, my dear St. Aubyn,"
turned and ran after her.
"How do you do, Mrs. Howel?" said she, holding out her hand, which the good woman hardly ventured to touch, again courtesying.
Ellen made kind inquiries for all her family by name; and seeing her old neighbour"s eyes involuntarily wandering towards the child, as if she anxiously wished, but was ashamed to ask a nearer view of him, she beckoned the nurse to bring him towards her, and said:--
"Do look at my little boy, Mrs. Howel: is he not a fine fellow?"
"Ah, Madam," said the good woman, "he is the loveliest babe I ever saw, except your Ladyship, at the same age.--G.o.d bless him, and G.o.d bless you, Madam; for you deserve every kind of happiness."
"Thank you, thank you, my good neighbour. Come to the Farm and see us when it is convenient: at present, my Lord is waiting for me, so good-bye." And she lightly ran on, leaving the farmer"s wife charmed and delighted by her sweetness and kind attention.
They soon reached the Parsonage, and were received with unaffected joy.
Great indeed, at first, was the bustle of poor Mrs. Ross, who, not hoping for such an honour, was not drest, nor her parlour, though always neat, in that high state of preparation it would have been had she expected them; but she was soon convinced that the string of apologies she meditated were totally unnecessary, by finding the warm-hearted Ellen first in her own arms, and leaving them to fly to those of Joanna, and then with sweet filial reverence bending to the kind parental embrace of the venerable Ross. St. Aubyn and the good Powis, in the meantime, stood gazing on her with rapturous emotion, and both thinking there never was so enchanting a creature. The babe was admired, caressed, and finally p.r.o.nounced a prodigy of beauty and early apprehension, and his sweet good-humoured smiles were uninterrupted even by one frown, though handed from one to the other with raptures which would have made an infant of a less amiable disposition cross and fretful.
"Well, my excellent friend," said St. Aubyn, aside to Ross, "you see once more your lovely pupil, from whom you parted with so much regret, not, I hope, injured either in person or mind by her intercourse with the great world. Oh, my good Sir, how infinitely am I indebted to you for implanting principles in her youthful bosom which have stood the test of many trying scenes. You and I must have a great deal of conversation, and I know you will be charmed to hear how admirably she conducts herself on all occasions."
"I _am_ charmed," said Ross, while an affectionate tear stood in his eye, "charmed with all I see and hear of both: indeed, my Lord, that lovely unaffected creature adorns the rank to which you have raised her: the choice you made reflects as much honour on your penetration as I hope it will ensure happiness to your future life; nor could any young person have better stood the trying test of sudden elevation, of that admiration which doubtless has surrounded her. Now see how sweetly she returns to us without one high air, one look of dissatisfaction at the inferiority of accommodations or manners she must see.
"Polite as all her life in courts had been, Yet good as she the courts had never seen."