_ CHAPTER XI
Convinced that all farther pursuit of Lady Julia Lidhurst would be vain, that it could tend only to increase her difficulties and his mortification, Vivian saw that the best thing he could possibly do was to leave Glistonbury. Thus he should relieve the whole family from the embarrassment of his presence; and, by immediate change of scene and of occupation, he had the best chance of recovering from his own disappointment. If Lady Julia was to quit the castle, he could have no inducement to stay; if her ladyship remained, his continuing in her society would be still more dangerous to his happiness. Besides, he felt offended with Lord Glistonbury, who evidently had wished to conceal from him the truth; and, without considering what was just or honourable, had endeavoured to secure, at all events, an establishment for his daughter, and a connexion for his family. To the weight of these reasons must be added a desire to see Mr. Russell, and to effect a reconciliation with him. The accumulated force of all these motives had power to overcome Vivian's habitual indecision: his servant was surprised by an order to have every thing ready for his journey to town immediately. Whilst his man prepared to obey, or at least to meditate upon the cause of this unusually decided order, our hero went in quest of Lord Glistonbury, to pay his compliments to his lordship previous to his departure. His lordship was in his daughter Julia's dressing-room, and could not be seen; but presently he came to Vivian in great hurry and distress of mind.
"A sad stroke upon us, Mr. Vivian!--a sad stroke upon us all--but most upon me; for she was the child of my expectations--I hear she has told you every thing--you, also, have been very ill-used--Never was astonishment equal to mine when I heard Miss Strictland's story. I need not caution you, Mr. Vivian, as to secrecy; you are a man of honour, and you see the peace of our whole family is at stake. The girl is going to a relation of ours in Devonshire.--Sha'n't stay here--sha'n't stay here--Disgrace to my family--She who was my pride--and, after all, says she will never marry.--Very well!--very well!--I shall never see her again, that I am determined upon.--I told her, that if she did not behave with common sense and propriety, in her last interview with you, I would give her up--and so I will, and so I do.--The whole is Lady Glistonbury's fault--she never managed her rightly when she was a child. Oh! I should put you on your guard in one particular--Miss Bateman knows nothing of what has happened--I wish Miss Strictland knew as little--I hate her. What business had she to play the spy upon my daughter? She does well to be a prude, for she is as ugly as sin. But we are in her power. She is to go to-morrow with Julia to Devonshire. It will make a quarrel between me and Miss Bateman--no matter for that; for now, the sooner we get rid of that Rosamunda, too, the better--she talks me dead, and will let no one talk but herself. And, between you and me, all this could not have happened, if she had looked after her charge properly.--Not but what I think Miss Strictland was still less fit to guide a girl of Julia's genius and disposition. All was done wrong at first, and I always said so to Lady Glistonbury. But, if the secret can be kept--and
that depends on you, my dear friend--after six months' or a twelve-month's
rustication with our poor parson in the country, you will see how tamed and docile the girl will come back to us. This is my scheme; but nobody shall know my whole mind but you--I shall tell her I will never see her again; and that will pacify Lady Glistonbury, and frighten Julia into submission. She says she'll never marry.--Stuff! Stuff!--You don't believe her!--What man who has seen any thing of the world ever believes such stuff?"
Vivian's servant came into the room to ask his master some question about horses.
"Going!--where? Going!--when? Going!--how?" cried Lord Glistonbury, as soon as the servant withdrew. "Surely, you are not going to leave us, Mr. Vivian?"
Vivian explained his reasons--Lord Glistonbury would not allow them any weight, entreated and insisted that he should stay at least a few days longer; for his going "just at this moment would seem quite like a break up in the family, and would be the most unfriendly and cruel thing imaginable." Why Lord Glistonbury so earnestly pressed his stay, perhaps even his lordship himself did not exactly know; for, with all the air of being a person of infinite address and depth of design, his lordship was in reality childishly inconsistent; what the French call
inconsequent. On any subject, great or small, where he once took it into his head, or, as he called it,
made it a point, that a thing should be so or so, he was as peremptory, or, where he could not be peremptory, as anxious, as if it were a matter of life and death. In his views there was no perspective, no keeping--all objects appeared of equal magnitude; and even now, when it might be conceived that his whole mind was intent upon a great family misfortune, he, in the course of a few minutes, became as eager about a mere trifle as if he had nothing else in the world to think of. From the earnestness with which Lord Glistonbury urged him to stay a few days, at least one day longer, Vivian was induced to believe that it must be a matter of real consequence to his lordship--"And, in his present state of distress, I cannot refuse such a request," thought Vivian. He yielded, therefore, to these solicitations, and consented to stay a few days longer; though he knew the prolonging his visit would be, in every respect, disagreeable.
At dinner Lord Glistonbury announced to the company that the physician had advised change of air immediately for Lord Lidhurst; and that, in consequence, his son would set out early the next morning for Devonshire--that his daughter Julia wished to go with her brother, and that Miss Strictland would accompany them. Lord Glistonbury apologized for his daughter's absence, "preparations for her journey so suddenly decided upon," &c. Lady Glistonbury and Lady Sarah looked terribly grim whilst all this was saying; but the gravity and stiffness of their demeanour did not appear any thing extraordinary to the greater part of the company, who had no idea of what was going forward. The lawyer, the captain, and the chaplain, however, interchanged significant looks; and many times, during the course of the evening, they made attempts to draw out Vivian's thoughts, but they found him impenetrable. There was an underplot of a quarrel between Miss Strictland and Miss Bateman, to which Vivian paid little attention; nor was he affected, in the slightest degree, by the Rosamunda's declaration to Lord Glistonbury, that she must leave his family, since she found that Miss Strictland had a larger share than herself of his lordship's confidence, and was, for what reason she could not divine, to have the honour of accompanying Lady Julia into Devonshire. Vivian perceived these quarrels, and heard the frivolous conversation of the company at Glistonbury Castle without interest, and with a sort of astonishment at the small motives by which others were agitated, whilst his whole soul was engrossed by love and pity for Lady Julia. In vain he hoped for another opportunity of seeing and speaking to her. She never appeared. The next morning he rose at daybreak that he might have the chance of seeing her: he begged Miss Strictland to entreat her ladyship would allow him to say a few words before she set out; but Miss Strictland replied, that she was assured the request would be vain; and he thought he perceived that Miss Strictland, though she affected to lament Lady Julia's blindness to her own interests and contumacy, in opposing her father's wishes, was, in reality, glad that she persisted in her own determination. Lord Lidhurst, on account of the weak state of his health, was kept in ignorance of every thing that could agitate him; and, when Vivian took leave of him, the poor young man left many messages of kindness and gratitude for Mr. Russell.
"I am sorry that he was obliged to leave me; for, ill or well, there is no human being, I will not except any one but my sister Julia, whom I should so much wish to have with me. Tell him so; and tell him--be sure you remember my very words, for perhaps I shall never see him again--tell him, that, living or dying, I shall feel grateful to him. He has given me tastes and principles very different from those I had when he came into this house. Even in sickness, I feel almost every hour the advantage of my present love for literature. If I should live and recover, I hope I shall do him some credit; and I trust my family will join in my gratitude. Julia, my dear sister! why do you weep so bitterly?--If I had seen you come into the room, I would not have spoken of my health."
Lord Glistonbury came up to tell them that Miss Strictland was ready. "Mr. Vivian," cried his lordship, "will you hand Julia into the carriage?--Julia, Mr. Vivian is offering you his services."
Vivian, as he attended Lady Julia, had so much respect for her feelings, that, though he had been waiting with extreme impatience for an opportunity
to say a few words, yet now he would not speak, but handed her along the gallery, down the staircase, and across the great hall, in profound silence. She seemed sensible of this forbearance; and, turning to him at a moment when they could not be overheard, said, "It was not from unkindness, Mr. Vivian, I refused to see you again, but to convince you that my mind is determined--if you have any thing to say, I am ready to hear it."
"Is there nothing to be hoped from time?" said Vivian. "Your father, I know, has hopes that----All I ask is, that you will not make any rash resolutions."
"I make none; but I tell
you, for your own sake, not to cherish any vain hope. My father does not know my mind sufficiently, therefore he may deceive you; but I will not.----I thought, after the manner in which I spoke to you yesterday, you would have had too much strength of mind to have rendered this repetition of my sentiments necessary.----Attach yourself elsewhere as soon as you can.--I sincerely wish your happiness. Miss Strictland is waiting.--Farewell!"
She hurried forward to the carriage; and, when she was gone, Vivian repented that he had seen her again, as it had only given them both additional and fruitless pain.
What passed during some succeeding days at Glistonbury Castle he scarcely knew; no trace remained in his mind of anything but the confused noise of people, who had been talking, laughing, and diverting themselves in a manner that seemed to him incomprehensible. He exerted himself, however, so far as to write to Russell, to implore his forgiveness, and to solicit a return of his friendship, which, in his present state of unhappiness, was more necessary to him than ever. When he had finished and despatched this letter, he sunk again into a sort of reckless state, without hope or determination, as to his future life. He could not decide whether he should go to his mother immediately on leaving Glistonbury, or to Mr. Russell, or (which he knew was the best course he could pursue) attend his duty in parliament, and, by plunging at once into public business, change the course of his thoughts, and force his mind to resume its energy. After altering his determination twenty times, after giving at least a dozen contradictory orders about his journey, his servant at last had his ultimatum,
for London--the carriage to be at the door at ten o'clock the next morning. Every thing was ready at the appointed hour. Breakfast over, Vivian waited only to pay his compliments to Lady Glistonbury, who had breakfasted in her own apartment. Lady Sarah, with a manner as formal as usual, rose from the breakfast-table, and said she would let her mother know that Mr. Vivian was going. Vivian waited half an hour--an hour--two hours. Lady Glistonbury did not appear, nor did Lady Sarah return. The company had dispersed after the first half-hour. Lord Glistonbury began to believe that the ladies did not mean to make their appearance. At length a message came from Lady Glistonbury.--"Lady Glistonbury's compliments to Mr. Vivian--her ladyship was concerned that it was out of her power to have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Vivian, as she was too much indisposed to leave her room.--She and Lady Sarah wished him a very good journey."
Vivian went up to his room for his gloves, which he missed at the moment when he was going. Whilst he was opening the empty drawers one after another, in search of his gloves, and, at the same time, calling his servant to find them, he heard a loud scream from an adjoining apartment. He listened again--all was silent; and he supposed that what he had heard was not a scream: but, at that moment, Lady Sarah's maid flung open his door, and, running in with out-stretched arms, threw herself at Vivian's feet. Her sobs and tears prevented his understanding one syllable she said. At last she articulated intelligibly, "Oh, sir!--don't be so cruel to go--my lady!--my poor lady! If you go, it will kill Lady Sarah!"
"Kill Lady Sarah?--Why I saw her in perfect health this morning at breakfast!"
"Dear, dear sir! you know nothing of the matter!" said the maid, rising, and shutting the door: "you don't know what a way she has been in ever since the talk of your going--fits upon fits every night, and my lady, her mother, and I up holding her--and none in the house knowing it but ourselves. Very well at breakfast! Lord help us! sir. How little you know of what she has suffered! Lord have mercy upon me! I would not be a lady to be so much in love, and left so, for any thing in the whole world. And my Lady Sarah keeps every thing so to herself;--if it was not for these fits they would never have knowed she cared no more for you than a stone."
"And, probably you are quite mistaken," said Vivian; "and that I have nothing to do with the young lady's illness. If she has fits, I am very sorry for it; but I can't possibly----Certainly, you are quite mistaken!"
"Lord, sir!--mistaken! As if I could be mistaken, when I know my lady as well as I know myself! Why, sir, I know from the time of the election, when you was given to her by all the country--and to be sure when we all thought it would be a match directly--and the Lord knows what put it off!--I say, from that time, her heart was set upon you. Though she never said a word to me, or any one, I knew how it was, through all her coldness--And to be sure, when you was in Lon'on so much with us, all the town said, as all the country did afore, that to be sure it was to be a match--But then that sad affair, with that artfullest of women, that took you off from all that was good, and away, the Lord knows where, to foreign parts!--Well! to be sure, I never shall forget the day you come back again to us!--and the night of the ball!--and you dancing with my lady, and all so happy; then, to be sure, all were sarten it was to be immediately----And now to go and break my poor lady's heart at the last--Oh, sir, sir! if you could but see her, it would touch a heart of marble!"
Vivian's astonishment and dismay were so great, that he suffered the girl, who was an unpractised creature, to go on speaking without interruption: the warmth of affection with which she spoke of her lady, also, surprised him: for, till this instant, he had no idea that any one could love Lady Sarah Lidhurst; and the accounts she gave of the lady's sufferings not only touched his compassion, but worked upon his vanity. "This cold, proud young lady that never loved none before, to think," as her maid said, "that she should come to such a pass, as to be in fits about him. And it was her belief that Lady Sarah never would recover it, if he went away out of the castle this day."
The ringing of a bell had repeatedly been heard, whilst Lady Sarah's maid was speaking; it now rang violently, and her name was called vehemently from the adjoining apartment. "I must go, I
must go!--Oh, sir! one day, for mercy's sake! stay one day longer!"
Vivian, though he had been moved by this girl's representations, was determined to effect his retreat whilst it was yet in his power; therefore he ran down stairs, and had gained the hall, where he was shaking hands with Lord Glistonbury, when my Lady Glistonbury's own woman came in a great hurry to say, that her lady, finding herself a little better now, and able to see Mr. Vivian, begged he would be so good as to walk up to her dressing-room.
Vivian, with a heavy heart and slow steps, obeyed; there was no refusing, no evading such a request. He summoned all his resolution, at the same time saying to himself, as he followed his conductor along the gallery, "It is impossible that I can ever be drawn in to marry Lady Sarah.--This is a concerted plan, and I shall not be so weak as to be the dupe of so gross an artifice."
Lady Glistonbury's maid showed him into her lady's dressing-room and retired. Lady Glistonbury was seated, and, without speaking, pointed to a chair which was set opposite to her. "So! a preparation for a scene," thought Vivian. He bowed, but, still keeping his hat in his hand, did not sit down:--he was extremely happy to hear, that her ladyship found herself something better--much honoured by her permitting him to pay his respects, and to offer his grateful acknowledgments to her ladyship before his departure from Glistonbury.
Her ladyship, still without speaking, pointed to the chair. Vivian sat down, and looked as if he had "screwed his courage to the sticking place." Lady Glistonbury had sometimes a little nervous trembling of her head, which was the only symptom of internal agitation that was ever observable in her; it was now increased to a degree which Vivian had never before seen.
"Are you in haste, sir, to be gone?" said Lady Glistonbury.
"Not if her ladyship had any commands for him; but otherwise, he had intended, if possible, to reach town that night."
"I shall not delay you many minutes, Mr. Vivian," said her ladyship. "You need not be under apprehension that Lady Glistonbury should seek to detain you longer than your own inclinations induce you to stay; it is, therefore, unnecessary to insult her with any appearance of haste or impatience."
Vivian instantly laid down his hat, and protested that he was not in the slightest degree impatient: he should be very ungrateful, as well as very ill-bred, if, after the most hospitable manner in which he had been received and entertained at Glistonbury Castle, he could be in haste to quit it. He was entirely at her ladyship's orders.
Lady Glistonbury bowed formally--was again silent--the trembling of her head very great--the rest of her form motionless.
"I have sent for you, Mr. Vivian," said she, "that I might, before you leave this castle, set you right on a subject which much concerns me. From the representations of a foolish country girl, a maid-servant of my daughter, Lady Sarah Lidhurst, which I have just discovered she has made to you, I had reason to fear that you might leave Glistonbury with very false notions----"
A cry was heard at this moment from the inner apartment, which made Vivian start; but Lady Glistonbury, without noticing it, went on speaking.
"With notions very injurious to my daughter Sarah; who, if I know any thing of her, would rather, if it were so ordained, go out of this world, than condescend to any thing unbecoming her sex, her education, and her family."
Vivian, struck with respect and compassion for the mother, who spoke to him in this manner, was now convinced that there had been no concerted plan to work upon his mind, that the maid had spoken without the knowledge of her lady; and the more proudly solicitous Lady Glistonbury showed herself to remove what she called the false impression from his mind, the more he was persuaded that the girl had spoken the truth. He was much embarrassed between his good-nature and his dread of becoming a sacrifice to his humanity.
He replied in general terms to Lady Glistonbury, that he had the highest respect for Lady Sarah Lidhurst, and that no opinion injurious to her could be entertained by him.
"Respect she must command from all," said Lady Glistonbury; "
that it is out of any man's power to refuse her: as to the rest, she leaves you, and I leave you, sir, to your own conscience."
Lady Glistonbury rose, and so did Vivian. He hoped that neither her ladyship nor Lady Sarah had any cause----He hesitated; the words,
to reproach, to complain, to be displeased, all came to his lips; but each seemed improper; and, none other being at hand to convey his meaning, he could not finish his sentence: so he began another upon a new construction, with "I should be much concerned if, in addition to all my other causes of regret in leaving Glistonbury Castle, I felt that I had incurred Lady Glistonbury's or Lady Sarah's displea--disapprobation."
"As to that, sir," said Lady Glistonbury, "I cannot but have my own opinion of your conduct; and you can scarcely expect, I apprehend, that a mother, such as I am, should not feel some disapprobation of conduct, which has----Sir, I beg I may not detain you--I have the honour to wish you a good journey and much happiness."
An attendant came from an inner apartment with a message! from Lady Sarah, who was worse, and wished to see her mother--"Immediately!--tell her, immediately!"
The servant returned with the answer. Vivian was retiring, but he came back, for he saw at that moment a convulsive motion contract Lady Glistonbury's face: she made an effort to walk; but if Vivian had not supported her instantly, she must have fallen. She endeavoured to disengage herself from his assistance, and again attempted to walk.
"For God's sake, lean upon me, madam!" said Vivian, much alarmed. With his assistance, she reached the door of the inner room: summoning all the returning powers of life, she then withdrew her arm from his, and pointing back to the door at which Vivian entered, she said, "That is your way, sir."
"Pardon me--I cannot go--I cannot leave you at this moment," said Vivian.
"This is my daughter's apartment, sir," said Lady Glistonbury, stopping, and standing still and fixed. Some of the attendants within, hearing her ladyship's voice, opened the door; Lady Glistonbury made an effort to prevent it, but in vain: the chamber was darkened, but as the door opened, the wind from an open window blew back the curtain, and some light fell upon a canopy bed, where Lady Sarah lay motionless, her eyes closed, and pale as death; one attendant chafing her temples, another rubbing her feet: she looked up just after the door opened, and, raising her head, she saw Vivian--a gleam of joy illumined her countenance, and coloured her cheek.
"Sir," repeated Lady Glistonbury, "this is my daughter's----"
She could articulate no more. She fell across the threshold, struck with palsy. Her daughter sprang from the bed, and, with Vivian's assistance, raised and carried Lady Glistonbury to an arm-chair near the open window, drew back the curtain, begged Vivian to go to her father, and instantly to despatch a messenger for medical assistance. Vivian sent his own servant, who had his horse ready at the door, and he bid the man go as fast as he could.
"Then you don't leave Glistonbury to-day, sir?" said the servant.
"Do as I order you--Where's Lord Glistonbury?"
His lordship, with the newspapers and letters open in his hand, came up--but they dropped on hearing the intelligence that Vivian communicated. His lordship was naturally humane and good-natured; and the shock was greater, perhaps, to him, from the sort of enmity in which he lived with Lady Glistonbury.
"I dread to go up stairs," said he. "For God's sake, Vivian, don't leave me in this distress!--do order your carriage away!----Put up Mr. Vivian's carriage."
Lady Sarah's maid came to tell them that Lady Glistonbury had recovered her speech, and that she had asked, "if Mr. Vivian was gone?"
"Do come up with me," cried Lord Glistonbury, "and she will see you are not gone."
"Here's my lord and Mr. Vivian, my lady," said the girl.
Then, turning to Lady Glistonbury's woman, she added, in a loud whisper, "Mr. Vivian won't go to-day."
Lady Sarah gave her maid some commission, which took her out of the room. Lady Sarah, no longer the formal, cold, slow personage whom Vivian detested, now seemed to him, and not only seemed but was, quite a different being, inspired with energy, and quickness, and presence of mind: she forgot herself, and her illness, and her prudery, and her love, and every other consideration, in the sense of her mother's danger. Lady Glistonbury had but imperfectly recovered her recollection. At one moment she smiled on Vivian, and tried to stretch out her hand to him, as she saw him standing beside Lady Sarah. But when he approached Lady Glistonbury, and spoke to her, she seemed to have some painful recollection, and, looking round the room, expressed surprise and uneasiness at his being there. Vivian retired; and Lord Glistonbury, who was crying like a child, followed, saying, "Take me out with you-- Dr. G---- ought to be here before now--I'll send for another physician!--Very shocking--very shocking--at Lady Glistonbury's time of life, too--for she is not an old woman by any means. Lady Glistonbury is eighteen months younger than I am!--Nobody knows how soon it may be their turn!--It's very shocking!--If I had known she was ill, I would have had advice for her sooner. She is very patient--too patient--a great deal too patient. She never will complain--never tells what she feels, body or mind--at least never tells
me; but that may be my fault in some measure. Should be very sorry Lady Glistonbury went out of the world with things as they are now between us. Hope to God she will get over this attack!--Hey! Mr. Vivian?"
Vivian said whatever he could to fortify this hope, and was glad to see Lord Glistonbury show feelings of this sort. The physician arrived, and confirmed these hopes by his favourable prognostics. In the course of the day and night her face, which had been contracted, resumed its natural appearance; she recovered the use of her arm: a certain difficulty of articulation, and thickness of speech, with what the physician called hallucination of mind, and a general feebleness of body, were all the apparent consequences of this stroke. She was not herself sensible of the nature of the attack, or clear in her ideas of any thing that had passed immediately previous to it. She had only an imperfect recollection of her daughter's illness, and of some hurry about Mr. Vivian's going away. She was, however, well enough to go into her dressing-room, where Vivian went to pay his respects to her, with Lord Glistonbury. By unremitting exertions, and unusual cheerfulness, Lady Sarah succeeded in quieting her mother's confused apprehensions on her account. When out of Lady Glistonbury's hearing, all the attendants and the physicians repeatedly expressed fear that Lady Sarah would over-fatigue and injure herself by this extraordinary energy; but her powers of body and mind seemed to rise with the necessity for exertion; and, on this great occasion, she suddenly discovered a warmth and strength of character, of which few had ever before discerned even the slightest symptoms.
"Who would have expected this from Sarah?" whispered Lord Glistonbury to Vivian. "Why, her sister did not do more for me when I was ill! I always knew she loved her mother, but I thought it was in a quiet, commonplace way--Who knows but she loves me too?--or might--" She came into the room at this moment--"Sarah, my dear," said his lordship, "where are my letters and yesterday's papers, which I never read?--I'll see if there be any thing in them that can interest your mother."
Lord Glistonbury opened the papers, and the first article of public news was, "a dissolution of parliament confidently expected to take place immediately." This must put an end to Vivian's scheme of going to town to attend his duty in parliament. "But, may be, it is only newspaper information." It was confirmed by all Lord Glistonbury and Vivian's private letters. A letter from his mother, which Vivian now for the first moment had time to peruse, mentioned the dissolution of parliament as certain; she named her authority, which could not be doubted; and, in consequence, she had sent down supplies of wine for an election; and she said that she would "be immediately at Castle Vivian, to keep open house and open heart for her son. Though not furnished," she observed, "the castle would suit the better all the purposes of an election; and she should not feel any inconvenience, for her own part, let the accommodations be what they might."
Lord Glistonbury directly proposed and insisted upon Lady Mary Vivian's making Glistonbury her head-quarters. Vivian objected: Lady Glistonbury's illness was an ostensible and, he hoped, would be a sufficient excuse for declining the invitation. But Lord Glistonbury persisted: "Lady Glistonbury, he was sure, would wish it--nothing would be more agreeable to her." His lordship's looks appealed to Lady Sarah, but Lady Sarah was silent; and, when her father positively required her opinion, by adding, "Hey! Sarah?" she rather discouraged than pressed the invitation. She said, that though she was persuaded her mother would, if she were well, be happy to have the pleasure of seeing Lady Mary Vivian; yet she could not, in her mother's present situation, venture to decide how far her health might be able to stand any election bustle.
Lady Sarah said this with a very calm voice, but blushed extremely as she spoke; and, for the first time, Vivian thought her not absolutely plain; and, for the first time, he thought even the formality and deliberate coolness of her manner were not disagreeable. He liked her more, at this moment, than he had ever imagined it possible he could like Lady Sarah Lidhurst; but he liked her chiefly because she did not press him into her service, but rather forwarded his earnest wish to get away from Glistonbury.
Lord Glistonbury appealed to the physician, and asked whether company and amusement were not "the best things possible for his patient? Lady Glistonbury should not be left alone, surely! Her mind should be interested and amused; and an election would be a fortunate circumstance just at present!"
The physician qualified the assent which his lordship's peremptory tone seemed to demand, by saying, "that certainly moderate amusement, and whatever interested without agitating her ladyship, would be salutary." His lordship then declared that he would leave it to Lady Glistonbury herself to decide: quitting the end of the room where they were holding their consultation, he approached her ladyship to explain the matter. But Lady Sarah stopped him, beseeching so earnestly that no appeal might be made to her mother, that Vivian was quite moved; and he settled the business at once to general satisfaction, by declaring that, though neither he nor Lady Mary Vivian could think of intruding as inmates at present, yet that they should, as soon as Lady Glistonbury's health would permit, be as much at Glistonbury Castle as possible; and that the short distance from his house would make it, he hoped, not inconvenient to his lordship for all election business. Lord Glistonbury acceded, and Lady Sarah appeared gratefully satisfied. His lordship, who always took the task of explanation upon himself, now read the paragraph about the dissolution aloud to Lady Glistonbury; informed her, that Lady Mary Vivian was coming immediately to the country; and that they should hope to see Lady Mary and Mr. Vivian almost every day, though he could not prevail upon them to take up their abode during the election at Glistonbury. Lady Glistonbury listened, and tried, and seemed to understand--bowed to Mr. Vivian and smiled, and said she remembered he was often at Glistonbury during the last election--that she was happy to hear she should have the pleasure to see Lady Mary Vivian--that some people disliked
election times, but for her part she did not, when she was strong. Indeed, the last election she recollected with particular pleasure--she was happy that Lord Glistonbury's interest was of service to Mr. Vivian. Then "she hoped his canvass
to-day had been successful?"--and asked some questions that showed her mind had become confused, and that she was confounding the past with the present. Lady Sarah and Mr. Vivian said a few words to set her right--she looked first at one, and then at the other, listening, and then said--"I understand--God bless you both." Vivian took up his hat, and looked out of the window, to see if his carriage was at the door.
"Mr. Vivian wishes you a good morning, madam," said Lady Sarah: "he is going to Castle Vivian, to get things ready for Lady Mary's arrival."
"I wish you health and happiness, sir," said Lady Glistonbury, attempting to rise, whilst some painful reminiscence altered her countenance.
"Pray do not stir, don't disturb yourself, Lady Glistonbury. I shall pay my respects to your ladyship again as soon as possible."
"And pray bring me good news of the election, and how the poll stands to-morrow, Mr. Vivian," added her ladyship, as he left the room. _