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good-naturedly; but at this time, and for some Barnes whirls a partner round a room ages after years after, she was impatient of common-place she is ready to faint. What wicked fun he makes people, and did not choose to conceal her scorn. of other people when he stops! He is not handLady Clara was very much afraid of her. Those some, but in his face there is something odd-looktimid little thoughts, which would come out, and ing and distinguished. It is certain he has beaufrisk and gambol with pretty graceful antics, and tiful small feet and hands. advance confidingly at the sound of Jack Belsize's He comes every day from the city, drops in, in jolly voice, and nibble crumbs out of his hand, his quiet unobtrusive way, and drinks tea at five shrank away before Ethel, severe nymph with the o'clock; always brings a budget of the funniest bright eyes, and hid themselves under the thick stories with him, makes mamma laugh, Clara ets and in the shade. Who has not overheard a laugh, Henrietta, who is in the school-room still, simple couple of girls, or of lovers possibly, pour-die of laughing. Papa has the highest opinion ing out their little hearts, laughing at their own of Mr. Newcome as a man of business: if he had little jokes, prattling and prattling away unceas had such a friend in early life his affairs would ingly, until mamma appears with her awful di- not be where they now are, poor dear kind papa! dactic countenance, or the governess with her dry Do they want to go any where, is not Mr. Newmoralities, and the colloquy straightway ceases, come always ready? Did he not procure that dethe laughter stops, the chirp of the harmless lit- lightful room for them to witness the Lord Mayor's tle birds is hushed. Lady Clara being of a timid show; and make Clara die of laughing at those nature, stood in as much awe of Ethel as of her odd city people at the Mansion House ball? He father and mother; whereas her next sister, a is at every party, and never tired though he gets brisk young creature of seventeen, who was of up so early : he waltzes with nobody else : he is the order of romps or tomboys, was by no means always there to put Lady Clara in the carriage : afraid of Miss Newcome, and indeed a much at the drawing-room he looked quite handsome in greater favorite with her than her placid elder his uniform of the Newcome Hussars, bottle-green sister.
and silver lace: he speaks politics so exceedingly Young ladies may have been crossed in love, well with papa and gentlemen after dinner: he and have had their sufferings, their frantic mo- is a sound conservative, full of practical good ments of grief and tears, their wakeful nights, sense and information, with no dangerous newand so forth; but it is only in very sentimental fangled ideas, such as young men have. When novels that people occupy themselves perpetually poor dear Sir Bryan Newcome's health gives way with that passion: and, I believe, what are called quite, Mr. Newcome will go into parliament, and broken hearts, are very rare articles indeed. Tom then he will resume the old barony which has is jilted—is for a while in a dreadful state-bores been in abeyance in the family since the reign of all his male acquaintance with his groans and his Richard the Third. They had fallen quite, quite frenzy-rallies from the complaint-eats his din- low. Mr. Newcome's grandfather came to Lonner very kindly-takes an interest in the next don with a satchel on his back, like Whittington. turf event, and is found at Newmarket, as usual, Isn't it romantic? bawling out the odds which he will give or take. This process has been going on for months. It Miss has her paroxysm and recovery-Madame is not in one day that poor Lady Clara has been Crinoline's new importations from Paris interest made to forget the past, and to lay aside her the young creature-she deigns to consider wheth- mourning. Day after day, very likely, the undeer pink or blue will become her most—she con- niable faults and many piccadilloes of—of that spires with her maid to make the spring morning other person, have been exposed to her. People dresses answer for the autumn-she resumes her around the young lady may desire to spare her books, piano, and music (giving up certain songs feelings, but can have no interest in screening perhaps that she used to sing)-she waltzes with poor Jack from condign reprobation. A wild The Captain-gets a color-waltzes longer, better, prodigal—a disgrace to his order—a son of old and ten times quicker than Lucy, who is dancing Highgate's leading such a life, and making such with the Major-replies in an animated manner a scandal! Lord Dorking believes Mr. Belsize to the Captain's delightful remarks—takes a little to be an abandoned monster and fiend in human supper—and looks quite kindly at him before she shape; gathers and relates all the stories that pulls up the carriage windows.
ever have been told to the young man's disadClive may not like his cousin Barnes Newcome, vantage, and of these be sure there are enough, and many other men share in that antipathy, but and speaks of him with transports of indignation. all ladies do not. It is a fact, that Barnes, when At the end of months of unwearied courtship, he likes, can make himself a very pleasant fellow. Mr. Barnes Newcome is honestly accepted, and He is dreadfully satirical, that is certain ; but Lady Clara is waiting for him at Baden, not unmany persons are amused by those dreadful sa- happy to receive him; when walking on the tirical young men: and to hear fun made of our promenade with her father, the ghost of her dead neighbors, even of some of our friends, does not love suddenly rises before her, and the young make us very angry. Barnes is one of the very lady faints to the ground. best waltzers in all society, that is the truth; When Barnes Newcome thinks fit he can be whereas it must be confessed Some One Else was perfectly placable in his demeanor and delicate very heavy and slow, his great foot always crush- in his conduct. What he said upon this painful ing you, and he always begging your pardon. subject was delivered with the greatest propriety. He did not for one moment consider that Lady | Clara, shake hands with Captain Belsize. My Clara's agitation arose from any present feeling | Lady Dorking, you will please to give Charles in Mr. Belsize's favor, but that she was naturally your hand. You have known him since he was moved by the remembrance of the past, and the a child; and-and-we are sorry to be obliged sudden appearance which recalled it. “And but to part in this way." In this wise Mr. Jack Belthat a lady's name should never be made the sub- size's tooth was finally extracted ; and for the ject of dispute between men,” Newcome said to moment we wish him and his brother patient a Lord Dorking, with great dignity," and that Cap- good journey. tain Belsize has opportunely quitted the place, 1 Little lynx-eyed Dr. Von Finck, who attends should certainly have chastised him. He and an- most of the polite company at Baden, drove ceaseother adventurer, against whom I have had to lessly about the place that day, with the real verwarn my own family, have quitted Baden this aft- sion of the fainting-fit story, about which we may ernoon. I ain glad that both are gone, Captain | be sure the wicked and malicious, and the uninBelsize especially ; for my temper, my lord, is itiated, had a hundred absurd details. Lady Clara hot, and I do not think I should have command ever engaged to Captain Belsize? Fiddle-deeed it."
dee! Every body knew the Captain's affairs, and Lord Kew, when the elder lord informed him that he could no more think of marrying than flyof this admirable speech of Barnes Newcome's, ing. Lady Clara faint at seeing him! she fainted upon whose character, prudence, and dignity the before he came up; she was always fainting, and Earl of Dorking pronounced a fervent eulogium, had done so thrice in the last week, to his knowlshook his head gravely, and said, “ Yes, Barnes edge. Lord Dorking had a nervous affection of was a dead shot, and a most determined fellow :" | his right arm, and was always shaking his stick. and did not burst out laughing until he and Lord He did not say Villain, he said William ; Captain Dorking had parted. Then to be sure he took Belsize's name is William. It is not so in the his fill of laughter: he told the story to Ethel; he peerage? Is he called Jack in the peerage ? complimented Barnes on his heroic self-denial ; Those peerages are always wrong. These candid the joke of the thundering big stick was nothing explanations of course had their effect. Wicked to it. Barnes Newcome laughed too; he had tongues were of course instantaneously silent. plenty of humor, Barnes. “I think you might People were entirely satisfied; they always are. have whopped Jack when he came out from his The next night being assembly night, Lady Clara interview with the Dorkings," Kew said: “the appeared at the rooms, and danced with Lord Kew poor devil was so bewildered and weak, that Al and Mr. Barnes Newcome. All the society was fred might have thrashed him. At other times as gracious and good-humored as possible, and you would find it more difficult, Barnes, my man." there was no more question of fainting, than of Mr. B. Newcome resumed his dignity ; said a burning down the Conversation-house. But Majoke was a joke, and there was quite enough of dame de Cruchecassée, and Madame de Schlangthis one; which assertion we may be sure he enbad, and those horrid people whom the men conscientiously made.
speak to, but whom the women salute with silent That meeting and parting between the old lov- courtesies, persisted in declaring that there was ers passed with a great deal of calm and propriety no prude like an English prude; and to Dr. Finck's on both sides. Miss's parents of course were oaths, assertions, explanations, only replied, with present when Jack at their summons waited upon a shrug of their bold shoulders, “Taisez vous, them and their daughter, and made his hang-dog Docteur, vous n'ete qu'une vieille bête.” bow. My Lord Dorking said (poor Jack in the Lady Kew was at the rooms, uncommonly anguish of his heart had poured out the story to gracious. Miss Ethel took a few turns of the Clive Newcome afterward), “Mr. Belsize, I have waltz with Lord Kew, but this nymph looked more to apologize for words which I used in my heat farouche than upon ordinary days. Bob Jones, who yesterday, and which I recall and regret, as I am admired her hugely, asked leave to waltz with her, sure you do that there should have been any oc and entertained her with recollections of Clive casion for them."
Newcome at school. He remembered a fight in Mr. Belsize, looking at the carpet, said he was which Clive had been engaged, and recounted that very sorry
action to Miss Newcome, who seemed to be interLady Dorking here remarked, “that as Cap- ested. He was pleased to deplore Clive's fancy tain Belsize was now at Baden, he might wish for turning artist, and that Miss Newcome recomto hear from Lady Clara Pulleyn's own lips that mended him to have his likeness taken, for she the engagement into which she had entered was said his appearance was exceedingly picturesque. formed by herself, certainly with the consent and He was going on with further prattle, but she sudadvice of her family. Is it not so, my dear ?" denly cut Mr. Jones short, making him a bow, and
Lady Clara said, “ Yes, mamma," with a low going to sit down by Lady Kew. “And the next courtesy.
day, Sir," said Bob, with whom the present writer “We have now to wish you good-by, Charles had the happiness of dining at a mess dinner at the Belsize," said my lord, with some feeling. “As Upper Temple, “when I met her on the walk, Sir, your relative, and your father's old friend, I wish she cut me as dead as a stone. The airs those you well. I hope your future course in life may swells give themselves is enough to make any not be so unfortunate as the past year. I request man turn republican." that we may part friends. Good-by, Charles Miss Ethel indeed was haughty, very haughty,
and of a difficult temper. She spared none of her Ethel took up the whole heap of Clive's drawparty except her kind mother, to whom Ethel al- ings, lighted a taper, carried the drawings to the ways was kind, and her father, whom, since his fire-place, and set them in a blaze. “A very illnesses, she tended with much benevolence and pretty piece of work,” says Lady Kew, “and care. But she did battle with Lady Kew repeat which proves satisfactorily that you don't care for edly, coming to her aunt Julia's rescue, on whom the young Clive at all. Have we arranged a corher mother as usual exercised her powers of tor- respondence? We are cousins, you know ; we turing. She made Barnes quail before her by the may write pretty cousinly letters to one another." shafts of contempt which she flashed at him ; and A month before the old lady would have attacked she did not spare Lord Kew, whose good-nature her with other arms than sarcasm, but she was was no shield against her scorn. The old queen scared now, and dared to use no coarser weapons. mother was fairly afraid of her ; she even left off“!” cried Ethel in a transport, “what a life beating Lady Julia when Ethel came in, of course ours is, and how you buy and sell, and haggle taking her revenge in the young girl's absence, over your children! It is not Clive I care about, but trying in her presence to soothe and please poor boy. Our ways of life are separate. I can her. Against Lord Kew the young girl's anger not break from my own family, and I know very was most unjust, and the more cruel, because the well how you would receive him in it. Had he kindly young nobleman never spoke a hard word money, it would be different. You would receive of any one mortal soul, and carrying no arms, him, and welcome him, and hold out your hands should have been assaulted by none. But his very to him; but he is only a poor painter, and we good-nature seemed to make his young opponent forsooth are bankers in the city; and he comes only the more wrathful; she shot because his hon among us on sufferance, like those concert-singest breast was bare ; it bled at the wounds which ers whom mamma treats with so much politeness, she inflicted. Her relatives looked at her, sur- and who go down and have supper by themselves. prised at her cruelty, and the young man himself | Why should they not be as good as we are ?" was shocked in his dignity and best feelings by
| “M. de C— , my dear, is of a noble family," his cousin's wanton ill-humor.
| interposed Lady Kew ; "when he has given up Lady Kew fancied she understood the cause singing and made his fortune, no doubt he can go of this peevishness, and remonstrated with Miss back into the world again." Ethel, “Shall we write a letter to Lucerne, and “Made his fortune, yes," "Ethel continued, order Dick Tinto back again?" said her ladyship. " that is the cry. There never were, since the “Are you such a fool, Ethel, as to be hankering world began, people so unblushingly sordid! We after that young scapegrace, and his yellow beard? own it, and are proud of it. We barter rank His drawings are very pretty. Why, I think he against money, and money against rank, day after might earn a couple of hundred a year as a teacher, day. Why did you marry my father to my mothand nothing would be easier than to break your er? Was it for his wit? You know he might engagement with Kew, and whistle the drawings have been an angel and you would have scorned master back again."
| him. Your daughter was bought with papa's
money as surely as ever Newcome was. Will and Ethel the prettiest Countess in England." there be no day when this mammon worship will And the old lady, seldom exhibiting any signs of cease among us?”
affection, looked at her granddaughter very fond“Not in my time or yours, Ethel,” the elder ly. From her Ethel looked up into the glass, said, not unkindly; perhaps she thought of a day which very likely repeated on its shining face the long ago before she was old herself.
truth her elder had just uttered. Shall we quar"We are sold," the young girl went on, “werel with the girl for that dazzling reflection; for are as much sold as Turkish women; the only owning that charming truth, and submitting to difference being that our masters may have but that conscious triumph? Give her her part of one Circassian at a time. No, there is no free- vanity, of youth, of desire to rule and be admired. dom for us. I wear my green ticket, and wait Meanwhile Mr. Clive's drawings have been cracktill my master comes. But every day, as I think ling in the fire-place at her feet, and the last spark of our slavery, I revolt against it more. That of that combustion is twinkling out unheeded. poor wretch, that poor girl whom my brother is to marry, why did she not revolt and fly? I A RUSSIAN STORY OF A CENTURY would, if I loved a man sufficiently, loved him
AGO. better than the world, than wealth, than rank, I SVOME hundred and thirty years ago, the “Emthan fine houses and titles—and I feel I love these D peror of all the Russias” was not Nicholas I. best-I would give up all to follow him. But what but Peter the Great; and Peter, with all his faults, can I be with my name and my parents ? I be- was a generous-hearted man, and loved an adlong to the world, like all the rest of my family. venture dearly. It was a cold bleak day in It is you who have bred us up; you who are an- November when our story commences, and the swerable for us. Why are there no convents to fishermen on the Gulf of Finland could easily which we can fly? You make a fine marriage foretell a coming storm from the clouds which for me; you provide me with a good husband, a were gathering on the horizon from the southkind soul, not very wise, but very kind; you east. As the clouds grew darker, the wind blew make me what you call happy, and I would rather in louder gusts, and the waves rose with whiter be at the plow like the women here.”
and taller crests, and lashed the shores with an “No, you wouldn't, Ethel," replies the grand- ever increasing vehemence. Along the beach on mother, dryly. “ These are the fine speeches of the north side of the Gulf of Finland are some school girls. The showers of rain would spoil your twenty or thirty fishermen's huts, which form complexion--you would be perfectly tired in an part of the straggling town of Lachta. Hard by hour, and come back to luncheon-you belong to is the spot where a ferry-boat starts-or rather your belongings, my dear, and are not better than started a century ago—for the opposite side of the rest of the world : very good looking, as you the gulf some twice or three times a week. As know perfectly well, and not very good temper- the door of one of these cottages opened, a young ed. It is lucky that Kew is. Calm your temper, sailor came out, followed by his mother, who saw at least before marriage ; such a prize does not that he was bent upon crossing the lake for the fall to a pretty girl's lot every day. Why, you purpose of transacting some business at the little sent him away quite scared by your cruelty; and village of Liborg, and was vainly endeavoring to if he is not playing at roulette, or at billiards, I stay him by pointing out the signs of the growdare say he is thinking what a little termagant | ing storm. you are, and that he had best pause while it is “Only see, my dear son," she cried, “how yet time. Before I was married, your poor grand- rough and angry the lake is now; see what mad. father never knew I had a temper; of after-days ness it is to venture out in an open boat upon its I say nothing; but trials are good for all of us, waves on such a day. If the ferry-boat must go, and he bore his like an angel.”
let it start without you, and do you stay at home, Lady Kew, too, on this occasion at least, was my Steenie, for your poor mother's sake." admirably good-humored. She also, when it was “Oh! mother,” replied the young man, "you necessary, could put a restraint on her temper, are over anxious; my business with Carl Wald and having this match very much at heart, chose compels me to go across, whether I like it or not, to coax and to soothe her granddaughter rather and I can not disappoint him if the ferry-boat than to endeavor to scold and frighten her. starts at all, and start it will directly, from the
“Why do you desire this marriage so much, quay, for I see the passengers gathering together grandmamma?" the girl asked. “My cousin is at the top of the steps. Only look now, there is not very much in love—at least I should fancy Alec and Nicholas going across, and I can not not,” she added, blushing. “I am bound to own stay behind. Then, good-by, mother, I am off Lord Kew is not in the least eager, and I think to the Katharine.” So saying he stepped briskly if you were to tell him to wait for five years, he forward. would be quite willing. Why should you be so “Well, Paul, my man, here's rather a rough very anxious ?"
passage across for us; I suppose you will go all “Why, my dear? Because I think young la- the same, though you don't seem to like the looks dies who want to go and work in the fields, should of the weather a bit better than I do? But I make hay while the sun shines; because I think don't see any other boats out this afternoon for it is high time that Kew should ranger himself; certain.” because I am sure he will make the best husband, “Oh, Paul! oh, Steenie! it is just tempting
Vol. IX.-No. 52.-KK
Providence to think of crossing over with such a sing a portion of the coast. They had seen the sea rising, and with the wind almost dead against perilous position of old Paul and his boat, and you,” cried the distracted widow.
had borne down to their assistance, for in spite "As to that, there's always danger afloat," of the terrible raging of the winds and waves, answered Paul, “be it fair or foul ; and Provi- the captain would not see the poor fellows swept dence takes care of us afloat as well as ever he away and drowned without making an effort at does on land. Good-by, mother. Here, Alec, I least to save them. let go that rope. Now, then, to your oars. The vessel neared the sand-bank; but how She's off, boys! Helm aport now.”
may she approach close enough to rescue the "Port it is,” growled the steersman, who evi- unhappy fellows? A boat is lowered from the dently had no fancy for the voyage, and had all vessel, and four as gallant Russian tars as ever this time been crying out against the unpropi- plowed the fresh waters of Ladoga or the Baltic tious aspect of the weather.
have rowed up to the spot; but the strength of The boatmen who were on the steps and along two of the crew, added to the exertions of Stephen the beach, assured the widow that there was no and the boatmen of the Katharine, are not suffireal danger; and so having bid her son an affec- cient to move the vessel from the firm grasp with tionate farewell, and uttering many a devout which the sand held her keel. They were, thereprayer for his speedy return next week, she went fore, beginning to relax their efforts, when a back into her cottage, low and depressed in her second boat, with a crew of six stout-hearted spirits, and sat watching the boat from her win- fellows, neared the bank, and by vigorous efforts dow as it did battle with each crested surge and reached the spot in time to reinforce their comrode proudly on its course. Need we say that rades. Without the loss of a moment, one of the she watched it with a mother's eye, until a pro- crew, a fine tall muscular Russian, some six feet jecting cliff shut it wholly out of sight. The five inches high, stripped off his outer garments, storm, however, continued as before, and the leaped into the sea, and after swimming a few mother had but one resource left, to commit her sharp strokes, gained a footing on the sand. beloved son and the frail boat in which he crossed This was heavy work indeed, as the sand was the waters of the lake to the merciful goodness not hard and firm, but mixed with mud and slime; of that Providence, who is "the God of the but the giant strength of the new arrival turned fatherless and the widow."
the scale, and after a few short and sharp heaves Meanwhile the little vessel was battling with the Katharine moved once more. In a second the angry waves in a place where there was a she was afloat again and taken in tow by the narrow passage, some fifty yards broad, between other boat. two dangerous shelving sand-banks, well known And where all this time was Stephen? Worn to the master of the Katharine and his crew. out with fatigue and cold, for he had been imThe sand-banks themselves, as it happened, lay mersed some two hours in the chilly waves, and partly under the lee of one of the little islands standing in deep water and nearly exhausted by which stud the coast near Lachta; and the cur- their violence he had lost his footing on the sliprent was bearing strong upon the bank upon the pery bank, and having got in a moment beyond leeward. At this moment the Katharine shipped his depth, was vainly attempting to keep his head a large quantity of water; as ill luck would have above water by swimming in his drenched and it, the tiller broke, and before the boat's head dripping clothes, the weight of which in a few could be righted, she had drifted upon the edge seconds more would have carried him down. of the bar of sand, and there she stuck fast. “Oh! Steenie, Steenie,” cried the old boatman, The little bark would have been overwhelmed by Paul, with a loud voice of agony, which would . the breakers but for the shelter afforded by the make itself heard even above the roaring of the corner of the island and the shifting of the wind angry winds and waves, “can none of you save a point or two round to the north ; indeed, she my poor Stephen, the bravest lad that ever trod a was fast filling with water, in spite of the efforts deck? He's gone now, and but for his help this of the passengers to keep her afloat by bailing. day my boat would have been lost." To add to the general confusion aboard, it now " He's not lost yet!” cried the tall seaman; turned out that several of the passengers who and, plunging into the waves, he caught him by had been drinking at the village inn before start the hair of his head, just as he was sinking a third ing from Lachta were fairly intoxicated, and the time; the next wave would have carried him fairrest were sinking down bewildered into the ly down, and his life would have been gone past apathy of despair; so that only Stephen and two recall. of the boatmen had their wits about them. But It was not the work of a moment for the strong, though they strove with all their might, they tall stranger to swim with the lad toward the boat, were unable to move the boat off from the sand- which was hovering near; and, in another second, bank. At this moment, when the waves were the gallant crew had lifted him in over the gunbreaking over the little Katharine, and had al- / wale, and laid him at the bottom of the boat. As ready swept off into deep water one or two hap- soon as he showed signs of life, and began to open loss passengers, who had lost all heart and his eyes, a flask of brandy was applied to his courage, a sail was seen approaching.
mouth, and he soon revived. The tall man, too, It was a rather large vessel, with a gallant got in, and leaving two of his crew to help old crew of some twenty men, who had been inspect. Paul to tow the Katharine ashore, he gave the