St. Ronan's Well Page 26

  CHAPTER II.

  PERPLEXITIES.

  For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours, Fore-run fair Love, strewing his way with flowers.

  _Love's Labour's Lost._

  Worthies, away--the scene begins to cloud.

  _Ibidem._

  Mr. Touchwood, and his inseparable friend, Mr. Cargill, wandered onamidst the gay groups we have described, the former censuring with greatscorn the frequent attempts which he observed towards an imitation ofthe costume of the East, and appealing with self-complacence to his ownsuperior representation, as he greeted, in Moorish and in Persic, theseveral turban'd figures who passed his way; while the clergyman, whosemind seemed to labour with some weighty and important project, looked inevery direction for the fair representative of Helena, but in vain. Atlength he caught a glimpse of the memorable shawl, which had drawn forthso learned a discussion from his companion; and, starting fromTouchwood's side with a degree of anxious alertness totally foreign tohis usual habits, he endeavoured to join the person by whom it was worn.

  "By the Lord," said his companion, "the Doctor is beside himself!--theparson is mad!--the divine is out of his senses, that is clear; and howthe devil can he, who scarce can find his road from the Cleikum to hisown manse, venture himself unprotected into such a scene ofconfusion?--he might as well pretend to cross the Atlantic without apilot--I must push off in chase of him, lest worse come of it."

  But the traveller was prevented from executing his friendly purpose by asort of crowd which came rushing down the alley, the centre of which wasoccupied by Captain MacTurk, in the very act of bullying two pseudoHighlanders, for having presumed to lay aside their breeches before theyhad acquired the Gaelic language. The sounds of contempt and insult withwhich the genuine Celt was overwhelming the unfortunate impostors, werenot, indeed, intelligible otherwise than from the tone and manner of thespeaker; but these intimated so much displeasure, that the plaided formswhose unadvised choice of a disguise had provoked it--two raw lads froma certain great manufacturing town--heartily repented their temerity,and were in the act of seeking for the speediest exit from the gardens;rather choosing to resign their share of the dinner, than to abide thefarther consequences that might follow from the displeasure of thishighland Termagant.

  Touchwood had scarcely extricated himself from this impediment, andagain commenced his researches after the clergyman, when his course wasonce more interrupted by a sort of pressgang, headed by Sir Bingo Binks,who, in order to play his character of a drunken boatswain to the life,seemed certainly drunk enough, however little of a seaman. His cheersounded more like a view-hollo than a hail, when, with a volley of suchoaths as would have blown a whole fleet of the Bethel Union out of thewater, he ordered Touchwood "to come under his lee, and be d----d; for,smash his old timbers, he must go to sea again, for as weather-beaten ahulk as he was."

  Touchwood answered instantly, "To sea with all my heart, but not with aland-lubber for commander.--Harkye, brother, do you know how much of ahorse's furniture belongs to a ship?"

  "Come, none of your quizzing, my old buck," said Sir Bingo--"What thedevil has a ship to do with horse's furniture?--Do you think we belongto the horse-marines?--ha! ha! I think you're matched, brother."

  "Why, you son of a fresh-water gudgeon," replied the traveller, "thatnever in your life sailed farther than the Isle of Dogs, do you pretendto play a sailor, and not know the bridle of the bow-line, and thesaddle of the boltsprit, and the bit for the cable, and the girth tohoist the rigging, and the whip to serve for small tackle?--There is atrick for you to find out an Abram-man, and save sixpence when he begsof you as a disbanded seaman.--Get along with you! or the constableshall be charged with the whole pressgang to man the workhouse."

  A general laugh arose at the detection of the swaggering boatswain; andall that the Baronet had for it was to sneak off, saying, "D--n the oldquiz, who the devil thought to have heard so much slang from an oldmuslin nightcap!"

  Touchwood being now an object of some attention, was followed by two orthree stragglers, whom he endeavoured to rid himself of the best way hecould, testifying an impatience a little inconsistent with the decorumof his Oriental demeanour, but which arose from his desire to rejoin hiscompanion, and some apprehension of inconvenience which he fearedCargill might sustain during his absence. For, being in fact asgood-natured a man as any in the world, Mr. Touchwood was at the sametime one of the most conceited, and was very apt to suppose, that hispresence, advice, and assistance, were of the most indispensableconsequence to those with whom he lived; and that not only on greatemergencies, but even in the most ordinary occurrences of life.

  Meantime, Mr. Cargill, whom he sought in vain, was, on his part,anxiously keeping in sight of the beautiful Indian shawl, which servedas a flag to announce to him the vessel which he held in chase. Atlength he approached so close as to say, in an anxious whisper, "MissMowbray--Miss Mowbray--I must speak with you."

  "And what would you have with Miss Mowbray?" said the fair wearer of thebeautiful shawl, but without turning round her head.

  "I have a secret--an important secret, of which to make you aware; butit is not for this place.--Do not turn from me!--Your happiness in this,and perhaps in the next life, depends on your listening to me."

  The lady led the way, as if to give him an opportunity of speaking withher more privately, to one of those old-fashioned and deeply-emboweredrecesses, which are commonly found in such gardens as that ofShaws-Castle; and, with her shawl wrapped around her head, so as in somedegree to conceal her features, she stood before Mr. Cargill in thedoubtful light and shadow of a huge platanus tree, which formed thecanopy of the arbour, and seemed to await the communication he hadpromised.

  "Report says," said the clergyman, speaking in an eager and hurriedmanner, yet with a low voice, and like one desirous of being heard byher whom he addressed, and by no one else,--"Report says that you areabout to be married."

  "And is report kind enough to say to whom?" answered the lady, with atone of indifference which seemed to astound her interrogator.

  "Young lady," he answered, with a solemn voice, "had this levity beensworn to me, I could never have believed it! Have you forgot thecircumstances in which you stand?--Have you forgotten that my promise ofsecrecy, sinful perhaps even in that degree, was but a conditionalpromise?--or did you think that a being so sequestered as I am wasalready dead to the world, even while he was walking upon itssurface?--Know, young lady, that I am indeed dead to the pleasures andthe ordinary business of life, but I am even therefore the more alive toits duties."

  "Upon my honour, sir, unless you are pleased to be more explicit, it isimpossible for me either to answer or understand you," said the lady;"you speak too seriously for a masquerade pleasantry, and yet notclearly enough to make your earnest comprehensible."

  "Is this sullenness, Miss Mowbray?" said the clergyman, with increasedanimation; "Is it levity?--Or is it alienation of mind?--Even after afever of the brain, we retain a recollection of the causes of ourillness.--Come, you must and do understand me, when I say, that I willnot consent to your committing a great crime to attain temporal wealthand rank, no, not to make you an empress. My path is a clear one; andshould I hear a whisper breathed of your alliance with this Earl, orwhatever he may be, rely upon it, that I will withdraw the veil, andmake your brother, your bridegroom, and the whole world, acquainted withthe situation in which you stand, and the impossibility of your formingthe alliance which you propose to yourself, I am compelled to say,against the laws of God and man."

  "But, sir--sir," answered the lady, rather eagerly than anxiously, "youhave not yet told me what business you have with my marriage, or whatarguments you can bring against it."

  "Madam," replied Mr. Cargill, "in your present state of mind, and insuch a scene as this, I cannot enter upon a topic for which the seasonis unfit, and you, I am sorry to say, are totally unprepared. It isenough that you know the grounds on which you stand. At a fitteropportunity, I will, as it is
my duty, lay before you the enormity ofwhat you are said to have meditated, with the freedom which becomes one,who, however humble, is appointed to explain to his fellow-creatures thelaws of his Maker. In the meantime, I am not afraid that you will takeany hasty step, after such a warning as this."

  So saying, he turned from the lady with that dignity which a consciousdischarge of duty confers, yet, at the same time, with a sense of deeppain, inflicted by the careless levity of her whom he addressed. She didnot any longer attempt to detain him, but made her escape from thearbour by one alley, as she heard voices which seemed to approach itfrom another. The clergyman, who took the opposite direction, met infull encounter a whispering and tittering pair, who seemed, at hissudden appearance, to check their tone of familiarity, and assume anappearance of greater distance towards each other. The lady was no otherthan the fair Queen of the Amazons, who seemed to have adopted therecent partiality of Titania towards Bully Bottom, being in conferencesuch and so close as we have described, with the late representative ofthe Athenian weaver, whom his recent visit to his chamber hadmetamorphosed into the more gallant disguise of an ancient Spanishcavalier. He now appeared with cloak and drooping plume, sword, poniard,and guitar, richly dressed at all points, as for a serenade beneath hismistress's window; a silk mask at the breast of his embroidered doublethung ready to be assumed in case of intrusion, as an appropriate part ofthe national dress.

  It sometimes happened to Mr. Cargill, as we believe it may chance toother men much subject to absence of mind, that, contrary to their wont,and much after the manner of a sunbeam suddenly piercing a deep mist,and illuminating one particular object in the landscape, some suddenrecollection rushes upon them, and seems to compel them to act under it,as under the influence of complete certainty and conviction. Mr. Cargillhad no sooner set eyes on the Spanish cavalier, in whom he neither knewthe Earl of Etherington, nor recognised Bully Bottom, than with hastyemotion he seized on his reluctant hand, and exclaimed, with a mixtureof eagerness and solemnity, "I rejoice to see you!--Heaven has sent youhere in its own good time."

  "I thank you, sir," replied Lord Etherington, very coldly, "I believeyou have the joy of the meeting entirely on your side, as I cannotremember having seen you before."

  "Is not your name Bulmer?" said the clergyman. "I--I know--I amsometimes apt to make mistakes--But I am sure your name is Bulmer?"

  "Not that ever I or my godfathers heard of--my name was Bottom half anhour ago--perhaps that makes the confusion," answered the Earl, withvery cold and distant politeness;--"Permit me to pass, sir, that I mayattend the lady."

  "Quite unnecessary," answered Lady Binks; "I leave you to adjust yourmutual recollections with your new old friend, my lord--he seems to havesomething to say." So saying, the lady walked on, not perhaps sorry ofan opportunity to show apparent indifference for his lordship's societyin the presence of one who had surprised them in what might seem amoment of exuberant intimacy.

  "You detain me, sir," said the Earl of Etherington to Mr. Cargill, who,bewildered and uncertain, still kept himself placed so directly beforethe young nobleman, as to make it impossible for him to pass, withoutabsolutely pushing him to one side. "I must really attend the lady," headded, making another effort to walk on.

  "Young man," said Mr. Cargill, "you cannot disguise yourself from me. Iam sure--my mind assures me, that you are that very Bulmer whom Heavenhath sent here to prevent crime."

  "And you," said Lord Etherington, "whom my mind assures me I never sawin my life, are sent hither by the devil, I think, to create confusion."

  "I beg pardon, sir," said the clergyman, staggered by the calm andpertinacious denial of the Earl--"I beg pardon if I am in amistake--that is, if I am _really_ in a mistake--but I am not--I amsure I am not!--That look--that smile--I am NOT mistaken. You _are_Valentine Bulmer--the very Valentine Bulmer whom I--but I will not makeyour private affairs any part of this exposition--enough, you _are_Valentine Bulmer."

  "Valentine?--Valentine?" answered Lord Etherington, impatiently,--"I amneither Valentine nor Orson--I wish you good-morning, sir."

  "Stay, sir, stay, I charge you," said the clergyman; "if you areunwilling to be known yourself, it may be because you have forgotten whoI am--Let me name myself as the Reverend Josiah Cargill, minister of St.Ronan's."

  "If you bear a character so venerable, sir," replied the youngnobleman,--"in which, however, I am not in the least interested,--Ithink when you make your morning draught a little too potent, it mightbe as well for you to stay at home and sleep it off, before coming intocompany."

  "In the name of Heaven, young gentleman," said Mr. Cargill, "lay asidethis untimely and unseemly jesting! and tell me if you be not--as Icannot but still believe you to be--that same youth, who, seven yearssince, left in my deposit a solemn secret, which, if I should unfold tothe wrong person, woe would be my own heart, and evil the consequenceswhich might ensue!"

  "You are very pressing with me, sir," said the Earl; "and, in exchange,I will be equally frank with you.--I am not the man whom you mistake mefor, and you may go seek him where you will--It will be still more luckyfor you if you chance to find your own wits in the course of yourresearches; for I must tell you plainly, I think they are gone somewhatastray." So saying, with a gesture expressive of a determined purpose topass on, Mr. Cargill had no alternative but to make way, and suffer himto proceed.

  The worthy clergyman stood as if rooted to the ground, and, with hisusual habit of thinking aloud exclaimed to himself, "My fancy has playedme many a bewildering trick, but this is the most extraordinary of themall!--What can this young man think of me? It must have been myconversation with that unhappy young lady that has made such animpression upon me as to deceive my very eyesight, and causes me toconnect with her history the face of the next person that I met--What_must_ the stranger think of me!"

  "Why, what every one thinks of thee that knows thee, prophet," said thefriendly voice of Touchwood, accompanying his speech with an awakeningslap on the clergyman's shoulder; "and that is, that thou art anunfortunate philosopher of Laputa, who has lost his flapper in thethrong.--Come along--having me once more by your side, you need fearnothing. Why, now I look at you closer, you look as if you had seen abasilisk--not that there is any such thing, otherwise I must have seenit myself, in the course of my travels--but you seem pale andfrightened--What the devil is the matter?"

  "Nothing," answered the clergyman, "except that I have even this verymoment made an egregious fool of myself."

  "Pooh, pooh, that is nothing to sigh over, prophet.--Every man does soat least twice in the four-and-twenty hours," said Touchwood.

  "But I had nearly betrayed to a stranger, a secret deeply concerning thehonour of an ancient family."

  "That was wrong, Doctor," said Touchwood; "take care of that in future;and, indeed, I would advise you not to speak even to your beadle, JohnieTirlsneck, until you have assured yourself, by at least three pertinentquestions and answers, that you have the said Johnie corporeally andsubstantially in presence before you, and that your fancy has notinvested some stranger with honest Johnie's singed periwig andthreadbare brown joseph--Come along--come along."

  So saying, he hurried forward the perplexed clergyman, who in vain madeall the excuses he could think of in order to effect his escape from thescene of gaiety, in which he was so unexpectedly involved. He pleadedheadache; and his friend assured him that a mouthful of food, and aglass of wine, would mend it. He stated he had business; and Touchwoodreplied that he could have none but composing his next sermon, andreminded him that it was two days till Sunday. At length, Mr. Cargillconfessed that he had some reluctance again to see the stranger, on whomhe had endeavoured with such pertinacity to fix an acquaintance, whichhe was now well assured existed only in his own imagination. Thetraveller treated his scruples with scorn, and said, that guests meetingin this general manner, had no more to do with each other than if theywere assembled in a caravansary.

  "So that you need not say a word to him in the way of
apology orotherwise--or, what will be still better, I, who have seen so much ofthe world, will make the pretty speech for you." As they spoke, hedragged the divine towards the house, where they were now summoned bythe appointed signal, and where the company were assembling in the oldsaloon already noticed, previous to passing into the dining-room, wherethe refreshments were prepared. "Now, Doctor," continued the busy friendof Mr. Cargill, "let us see which of all these people has been thesubject of your blunder. Is it yon animal of a Highlandman?--or theimpertinent brute that wants to be thought a boatswain?--or which ofthem all is it?--Ay, here they come, two and two, Newgate fashion--theyoung Lord of the Manor with old Lady Penelope--does he set up forUlysses, I wonder?--The Earl of Etherington with Lady Bingo--methinks itshould have been with Miss Mowbray."

  "The Earl of what, did you say?" quoth the clergyman, anxiously. "How isit you titled that young man in the Spanish dress?"

  "Oho!" said the traveller; "what, I have discovered the goblin that hasscared you?--Come along--come along--I will make you acquainted withhim." So saying, he dragged him towards Lord Etherington; and before thedivine could make his negative intelligible, the ceremony ofintroduction had taken place. "My Lord Etherington, allow me to presentMr. Cargill, minister of this parish--a learned gentleman, whose head isoften in the Holy Land, when his person seems present among his friends.He suffers extremely, my lord, under the sense of mistaking yourlordship for the Lord knows who; but when you are acquainted with him,you will find that he can make a hundred stranger mistakes than that, sowe hope that your lordship will take no prejudice or offence."

  "There can be no offence taken where no offence is intended," said LordEtherington, with much urbanity. "It is I who ought to beg the reverendgentleman's pardon, for hurrying from him without allowing him to make acomplete eclaircissement. I beg his pardon for an abruptness which theplace and the time--for I was immediately engaged in a lady'sservice--rendered unavoidable."

  Mr. Cargill gazed on the young nobleman as he pronounced these words,with the easy indifference of one who apologizes to an inferior in orderto maintain his own character for politeness, but with perfectindifference whether his excuses are or are not held satisfactory. Andas the clergyman gazed, the belief which had so strongly clung to himthat the Earl of Etherington and young Valentine Bulmer were the sameindividual person, melted away like frostwork before the morning sun,and that so completely, that he marvelled at himself for having everentertained it. Some strong resemblance of features there must have beento have led him into such a delusion; but the person, the tone, themanner of expression, were absolutely different; and his attention beingnow especially directed towards these particulars, Mr. Cargill wasinclined to think the two personages almost totally dissimilar.

  The clergyman had now only to make his apology, and fall back from thehead of the table to some lower seat, which his modesty would havepreferred, when he was suddenly seized upon by the Lady PenelopePenfeather, who, detaining him in the most elegant and persuasive mannerpossible, insisted that they should be introduced to each other by Mr.Mowbray, and that Mr. Cargill should sit beside her at table.--She hadheard so much of his learning--so much of his excellentcharacter--desired so much to make his acquaintance, that she could notthink of losing an opportunity, which Mr. Cargill's learned seclusionrendered so very rare--in a word, catching the Black Lion was the orderof the day; and her ladyship having trapped her prey, soon sattriumphant with him by her side.

  A second separation was thus effected betwixt Touchwood and his friend;for the former, not being included in the invitation, or, indeed, at allnoticed by Lady Penelope, was obliged to find room at a lower part ofthe table, where he excited much surprise by the dexterity with which hedispatched boiled rice with chop-sticks.

  Mr. Cargill being thus exposed, without a consort, to the fire of LadyPenelope, speedily found it so brisk and incessant, as to drive hiscomplaisance, little tried as it had been for many years by small talk,almost to extremity. She began by begging him to draw his chair close,for an instinctive terror of fine ladies had made him keep his distance.At the same time, she hoped "he was not afraid of her as anEpiscopalian; her father had belonged to that communion; for," sheadded, with what was intended for an arch smile, "we were somewhatnaughty in the forty-five, as you may have heard; but all that was over,and she was sure Mr. Cargill was too liberal to entertain any dislike orshyness on that score.--She could assure him she was far from dislikingthe Presbyterian form--indeed she had often wished to hear it, where shewas sure to be both delighted and edified" (here a gracious smile) "inthe church of St. Ronan's--and hoped to do so whenever Mr. Mowbray hadgot a stove, which he had ordered from Edinburgh, on purpose to air hispew for her accommodation."

  All this, which was spoken with wreathed smiles and nods, and so muchcivility as to remind the clergyman of a cup of tea over-sweetened toconceal its want of strength, and flavour, required and received nofarther answer than an accommodating look and acquiescent bow.

  "Ah, Mr. Cargill," continued the inexhaustible Lady Penelope, "yourprofession has so many demands on the heart as well as theunderstanding--is so much connected with the kindnesses and charities ofour nature--with our best and purest feelings, Mr. Cargill! You knowwhat Goldsmith says:--

  ----'to his duty prompt at every call, He watch'd, and wept, and felt, and pray'd for all.'

  And then Dryden has such a picture of a parish priest, so inimitable,one would think, did we not hear now and then of some living mortalpresuming to emulate its features," (here another insinuating nod andexpressive smile.)

  "'Refined himself to soul to curb the sense, And almost made a sin of abstinence. Yet had his aspect nothing of severe, But such a face as promised him sincere; Nothing reserved or sullen was to see, But sweet regard and pleasing sanctity.'"

  While her ladyship declaimed, the clergyman's wandering eye confessedhis absent mind; his thoughts travelling, perhaps, to accomplish a trucebetwixt Saladin and Conrade of Mountserrat, unless they chanced to beoccupied with some occurrences of that very day, so that the lady wasobliged to recall her indocile auditor with the leading question, "Youare well acquainted with Dryden, of course, Mr. Cargill?"

  "I have not the honour, madam," said Mr. Cargill, starting from hisreverie, and but half understanding the question he replied to.

  "Sir!" said the lady in surprise.

  "Madam!--my lady!" answered Mr. Cargill, in embarrassment.

  "I asked you if you admired Dryden;--but you learned men are soabsent--perhaps you thought I said Leyden."

  "A lamp too early quenched, madam," said Mr Cargill; "I knew him well."

  "And so did I," eagerly replied the lady of the cerulean buskin; "hespoke ten languages--how mortifying to poor me, Mr. Cargill, who couldonly boast of five!--but I have studied a little since that time--I musthave you to help me in my studies, Mr. Cargill--it will becharitable--but perhaps you are afraid of a female pupil?"

  A thrill, arising from former recollections, passed through poorCargill's mind, with as much acuteness as the pass of a rapier mighthave done through his body; and we cannot help remarking, that a forwardprater in society, like a busy bustler in a crowd, besides all othergeneral points of annoyance, is eternally rubbing upon some tenderpoint, and galling men's feelings, without knowing or regarding it.

  "You must assist me, besides, in my little charities, Mr. Cargill, nowthat you and I are become so well acquainted.--There is that AnneHeggie--I sent her a trifle yesterday, but I am told--I should notmention it, but only one would not have the little they have to bestowlavished on an improper object--I am told she is not quite proper--anunwedded mother, in short, Mr. Cargill--and it would be especiallyunbecoming in me to encourage profligacy."

  "I believe, madam," said the clergyman, gravely, "the poor woman'sdistress may justify your ladyship's bounty, even if her conduct hasbeen faulty."

  "O, I am no prude, neither, I assure you, Mr. Cargill," answered theLady Penelope. "I never withdra
w my countenance from any one but on themost irrefragable grounds. I could tell you of an intimate friend of myown, whom I have supported against the whole clamour of the people atthe Well, because I believe, from the bottom of my soul, she is onlythoughtless--nothing in the world but thoughtless--O Mr. Cargill, howcan you look across the table so intelligently?--who would have thoughtit of you?--Oh fie, to make such personal applications!"

  "Upon my word, madam, I am quite at a loss to comprehend"----

  "Oh fie, fie, Mr. Cargill," throwing in as much censure and surprise asa confidential whisper can convey--"you looked at my Lady Binks--I knowwhat you think, but you are quite wrong, I assure you; you are entirelywrong.--I wish she would not flirt quite so much with that young LordEtherington though, Mr. Cargill--her situation is particular.--Indeed, Ibelieve she wears out his patience; for see he is leaving the roombefore we sit down--how singular!--And then, do you not think it veryodd, too, that Miss Mowbray has not come down to us?"

  "Miss Mowbray!--what of Miss Mowbray--is she not here?" said Mr.Cargill, starting, and with an expression of interest which he had notyet bestowed on any of her ladyship's liberal communications.

  "Ay, poor Miss Mowbray," said Lady Penelope, lowering her voice, andshaking her head; "she has not appeared--her brother went up stairs afew minutes since, I believe, to bring her down, and so we are all lefthere to look at each other.--How very awkward!--But you know ClaraMowbray."

  "I, madam?" said Mr. Cargill, who was now sufficiently attentive; "Ireally--I know Miss Mowbray--that is, I knew her some years since--butyour ladyship knows she has been long in bad health--uncertain health atleast, and I have seen nothing of the young lady for a very long time."

  "I know it, my dear Mr. Cargill--I know it," continued the LadyPenelope, in the same tone of deep sympathy, "I know it; and mostunhappy surely have been the circumstances that have separated her fromyour advice and friendly counsel.--All this I am aware of--and to saytruth, it has been chiefly on poor Clara's account that I have beengiving you the trouble of fixing an acquaintance upon you.--You and Itogether, Mr. Cargill, might do wonders to cure her unhappy state ofmind--I am sure we might--that is, if you could bring your mind torepose absolute confidence in me."

  "Has Miss Mowbray desired your ladyship to converse with me upon anysubject which interests her?" said the clergyman, with more cautiousshrewdness than Lady Penelope had suspected him of possessing. "I willin that case be happy to hear the nature of her communication; andwhatever my poor services can perform, your ladyship may command them."

  "I--I--I cannot just assert," said her ladyship with hesitation, "that Ihave Miss Mowbray's direct instructions to speak to you, Mr. Cargill,upon the present subject. But my affection for the dear girl is so verygreat--and then, you know, the inconveniences which may arise from thismatch."

  "From which match, Lady Penelope?" said Mr. Cargill.

  "Nay, now, Mr. Cargill, you really carry the privilege of Scotland toofar--I have not put a single question to you, but what you have answeredby another--let us converse intelligibly for five minutes, if you canbut condescend so far."

  "For any length of time which your ladyship may please to command," saidMr. Cargill, "provided the subject regard your ladyship's own affairs ormine,--could I suppose these last for a moment likely to interest you."

  "Out upon you," said the lady, laughing affectedly; "you should reallyhave been a Catholic priest instead of a Presbyterian. What aninvaluable father confessor have the fair sex lost in you, Mr. Cargill,and how dexterously you would have evaded any cross-examinations whichmight have committed your penitents!"

  "Your ladyship's raillery is far too severe for me to withstand or replyto," said Mr. Cargill, bowing with more ease than her ladyship expected;and, retiring gently backward, he extricated himself from a conversationwhich he began to find somewhat embarrassing.

  At that moment a murmur of surprise took place in the apartment, whichwas just entered by Miss Mowbray, leaning on her brother's arm. Thecause of this murmur will be best understood, by narrating what hadpassed betwixt the brother and sister.