‘_,...-. .v.-...w mm- A v , .n Vol. 111.] PASSAGE IN THE SECRET HISTORY OF AN IRISH COUNTESS. —- (Continued) After such arrangements as I found necessary were completed, we both went down to the par- lour, a large wainscotted room, hung round with grim old portraits, and, as I was not sorry to see, containing, in its ample grate, a large and am- ple fire. Here my cousin had leisure to talk more at her case; and from hei -I learned some- thing ofthe manners and the habits of the two mind ‘han I had anticil’med' remaining members of her family, whom I had not yet seen. AND ‘PRINC‘EWEDW-ARDM ISLAND ADVERTISER. ~ «M» was» r assaults of slander, who is 2—1 felt much happier than I had donesince my father's death, and enjoy- ed that night the first refreshing sleep which had visited me since that event. My curiosity res- pecting my male cousin did not long remain unsatisfied—he appeared upon the next day at dinner. His manners, though not so coarse as ‘I had expected, were exceedingly disagreeable; there was an assurance of forwardness for which I was not prepared; there was less of the vul- garity of manner, and almost more of that of I felt quite un- comfortable in his presence; there was just that confidence in his look and tone which would on my am"; I had known nothing or the read encouragement even in the mere toleration; 53",“), among whom I was. come ,0 ,eside and I felt more’disgusted and annoyed at the D ’ ~ . except that it consisted of thre‘éa’ndividuals’ my coarse and extravagant compliments which he was uncle and his} so“ and daughter, Lady T__n pleased from time to time to pay me, than perhaps hay-mg been long dead ; in add-“ion ,0 this very the extent of the atrocity might fully have war- scanty stock of information, I shortly learned from my communicative companion, that my uncle was, as I had suspected, completely ranted. It was, however, one consolation, that he did not often appear, being much engrossed by pursuits about which I neither knew or retired in his habits, and, besides that, having cured anything; but When he did appeal: his been, so far back as she could well recollect, attentions, either with a view to his amusement, always rather strict, as relormed rakes frequent- or {.0 some more serious ad‘lvamage’ were 5° ly become, he had latterly been growing more obviously and perseverineg irected tome, that gloomy and sternly religious than heretofore. Her account of her brother was far less favour- "0" be 'gnoram 0f h” Preferencm able, though she did not say anything to his disadvantage. From all that I could gather from young and inexperienced as I was, even I could I felt uiore provoked by this adieus persecution than I can express, and discouraged him with so much her, I was led to suppose that he was a Speci, Vigonr, that I employed even rudeness to con- men of the idle, coarse-mannered,profligate, low-minded “squirearchy,” a result might naturally have flowed from the circum- stance of his being, as it were, outlawed from vince him that his assiduities were unwelcome—— which but all in vain. This had gone on for nearly a twelvemonth, to my infinite annoyance, when one day, as I soda”, and driven for companionship to grades was Sitting at some needle work With my corn- below his own—enjoying, too, the dangerous prerogative of spending much money. How- ever, you may easily suppose that I found nothing in my cousin’s communication fully to bear me out in so very decided a conclusion. I waited the arrival of my uncle, which was every panion, Emily, as was my habit, in the parlour, the door opened, and my cousin Edward entered the room. There was something, I thought, odd, in his manner—a kind ofstruggle between shame and impudence—a kind of flurry and ambiguity which made him appear, if possible, moment to be expected, with feelings half of more “‘3” ordinarily disagreeable- alarm, half of curiosity—a sensation which I have often since experienced, though to a less degree, when upon the point of standing for the first time in the presence of one of whom I have long been in the habit of hearing or thinking with interest. It. was, therefore, with some little perturbation that I heard, first a slight bustle at the outer door, then a slow step traverse the hall, and finally witnessed the door open and g my uncle enter the room. He was a striking looking man-from peculiarities both of person and of garb, the whole effect of his appearance amounted to extreme singularity. Ile was tall, and when young his figure must have been extremely elegant; as it was, however, its effect was marred by a very decided stoop; his dress was of a sober colour and in fashion anterior to anything which Icould remember. It. was, however, handsome, and by no means carelessly put on; but what completed the singularity of his appearance was his uncut, white hair, which hung in long, but. not at all neglected curls, must gOlnto particulars. even so far as his shoulders, and which com- bined, with his regularly classic features and fine dark eyes, to bestow upon him an air of venerable dignity and pride, which I have never seen equalled elsewhere. I rose as he entered, and met him about the middle of the room; he kissed my cheek and both,my hands, saying— “ Your servant, ladies,” he said, seating him- self, at the same time; “ sorry to disturb your tete-a—tete; but never mind, I'll only take Emi- ly’s place for a minute or two, and then we part for a while, fair cousin. Emily, my father wants you in the corner turret-«no shilly shally, he’s in a hurry.” She hesitated. ‘5 Be ofl'—-tramp, march,” he exclaimed, in a tone which the poor irl dared not disobey. ‘ She left the‘room, and Edward followed her to the door. He stood there for a minute or two, as if reflecting what he should say, perhaps satisfying himselfthat no one was within hearing in the hall. At length he turned about, having closed the door as if carelessly with his foot, and advancing slowly, as if in deep thought, he took his seat at the side of the table opposite to mine. There was a brief interval of silence, after which he said-- “ I imagine that you have a shrewd suspicion of the object of my early visit; but I suppose I Must I’! ” “ I have no conception,” I replied, “ what your object may be.” ” Well, well,” said he, becoming more at his ease as he proceeded, “it may be told in a few words. You know that it is totally impossible, quite out of the question, that an off-hand young fellow like me, and good looking girl like your- “ You are most welcome, dear, as welcome as self. Could IneEt continually as you and I have the command of this poor place and all that it done, Without an attachment—a liking growtug contains can make you. 1 am most rejoiced to up on one side or the other—in short, I think.I see you—truly rejoiced. I trust that you are let you know as plain as I can speak it, thatl not much fatigued—5pray be seated again.” have been in love with you.” He paused, but. I He led me to my chair and continued—” I am was 100 much horrified to spcak. He inteI: glad to perceive you have made acquaintance preted my Silence ’favourably. ‘ Ican tell you, with Emily already; I see in your being thug continued he, “Ini rather hard to please, and brought together, the foundation of a lasting very hard to hit. I cant say when I was taken friendship. You are both innocent, and both with a,girl before, so you see fortune reserved young, God bless yon—God bless you, and make you all that I could wish.” me— “ I have not been insensible, sir, of your most He raised his eyes, and remained for afew disagreeable attentions—they have long been a moments silent, as if in secret prayer. I felt source of annOyance to me; and you must be that it was impossible that this man, With feel- aware that I have marked my disapprobation, ings so quick, so warm, so tender, could be the my disgust. as unequivocally as I possibly could, wretch that public opinion represented him to without actual indehcacy.” b . I was more than ever convinced of his in- _ . e His manner was, or appeared to me, rapidity with which I had spoken; and Without nocence. I paused, almost out of breath from the most fascinating—there was a mingled kind- giving him time to renew the conversation, I ness and courtesy in it which seemed to speak hastily quitted the room, leaving him in a pa- benevolence itself—it was a manner which I felt roxysm of rage and mortification. AsI ascen- cold art could never have taught—it owed ded the stairs, I heard him open the parlour most of its charm to its appearing to emanate door with Violence, and take two or three rapid directly from the heart—it must, be a genuine strides in the direction in which I was moving. index of the owner’s mind. So I thought. My I was now much frightened, and ran~the whole .uucle having given me fully to understand that way until I reached my room, and havmg locked i was most welcome, and might command what- the door, I .listened hreathlessly, but heard no ever was his own, pressed me to take some re- sound. This relieved me for the present; but freshmen; and, on my refusinguheobserved that so much had I been overcome by the agitation previous to bidding me good night, he had one and annoyance attendant upon the scene. which duty more to perform, one in whose observance I had gone through, that when my cousin Emily he was convinced I would cheerfully acquiesce. knocked at the door, I was weeping in strong He then proceeded to read a chapter from the hysterics. You will readily conceive my distress, bible; after which he took his leave with the when you reflect upon-my strong dislike to my “use afi'ectionate kindness with which he greet- cousm Edward, .cisinhined With my youth and ed me, havng repeated his desire that I should extreme inexperiarrfip; any proposal of such a muider every thing in his house as altogether nature must have a , d me—but that it should at my disposal. It is needless to say that I was have come from 1 3,5711"!!! whom ofall others I much pleased with II uncle—it was impossible most loathed and abbprred, and to whom I had, to avoid being so ; an [could not help saying to as clearly as manner‘coufd'do it, expressed the myself, if such a [III as this is not safe from the state of my feelings, u't£_aluiost too overwhelm- , t CHARLOTTETOWN, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1840. was! -W — ing to be borne; it was acalamity, too, in which I could not claim the sympathy of my cousin Emily, which had always been extended to me in my own minor grievances—Still I hoped that it might not be unattended with good, forI thought that one inevitable and most welcome consequence would result from this painful eclair- cissement, in the discontinuance of my cousin’s odious persecution. When I arose next morning, it was with the fervent hope that I might never again behold the face, or even hear of the name of my cousin Edward; but such a consummation, though devoutly to he wished, was hardly likely to occur. The painful impressions of yesterday \vere'too'vivid to be at once erased; and I could not help feeling some dim foreboding of coming annoyance and evil. To expect on my cousin’s partanything like delicacy or consideration for me, was out ofthe question. I saw that he had set his heart upon my property, and that he was not likely easily to forego such an acquisition— poSsessing what might have been considered opportunities and facilities almost to compel m'y compliance. I now keenly felt the unreason- ableness of my father’s conduct in placing me to reside with a family of all whose members, with one exception, he was wholly ignorant, and I bitterly felt the helplessness of my situa- tion. I determined, however, in case of my cousin’s persevering in his addresses, to lay all the particulars before my uncle, although he had not in kindness or intimacy gone a step beyond our first interview, and to throw myself upon his hospitality and his sense of honor for protection against a repetition ofsuch scenes. My cousin’s conduct may appear to have been an inadequate cause for such serious uneasiness, but -‘-.my alarm was caused neither by his acts nor words, but entirely by his manner, which was strange and even intimidating to excess. Atthe beginning of the yesterday’s interview, there was a sort of bullying swagger in his air, which towards the end gave place to the brutal vehemence of an undisguised ruffian—a transition which tempted me into a belief that he might seek even forcibly to extort from me a consent to his wishes, or by means still more horrible, of which I scarcely dared to trust myself to think, to possess himself of my property. I was early next day summoned to attend my uncle in his private room, which lay in a corner turret of the old building; and thither I accord- ingly went, wondering all'the way what this unusual measure might prelude. When I en- tered the room, he did not rise in his usual courteous way to greet me, but simply pointed to a chair opposite to his own—this boded nothing agreeable. I sat down, however, silent- ly waiting niitil he should open the conversation, “ Lady Margaret,” at length he said, in a tone of greater sternness than I thought him capable of using, “ I have hitherto spoken to you as a friend. but I have not forgotten that I am also your guardian, and that my authority as such gives me a right to controul your conduct. I shall put a question to you, and I expect, and will demand, a plain direct answer. Have I rightly been informed, that you have contemp- tuously rejected the suit and hand of my son Edward ’! ” I stammered forth, with a good deal of trepi- dation— “ I believe—that is, I have, sir, rejected my cousin’s proposals; and my coldness and dis- couragement might have convinced him that I had determined to do so.” “ Madam,” replied he, with asuppressed, but, as it appeared to me, intense anger, ‘I have lived long enough to know that coldness and discour- agement, and such terms, form the common cant of a worthless coquette. You know to the full, as well as 1, that coldness and discourage- ment may be so exhibited as to convince their object that he is neither distasteful or indifferent to the person who wears this manner. You know, too, none better, that afiected neglect, when skilfully managed, is amongst the most formidable of the engines which artful beauty can employ. I tell you, madam, that having, without one word spoken in discouragement, permitted my son’s most marked attention for a twelvemonth or more, you have no right to dis- miss him with no farther explanation than de- murely telling him, that you had always looked coldly upon him, and neither your wealth nor vour ladysltip (there was an emphasis of scorn bn the word, which would have become Sir Giles Overreach himself,) Can warrant you in treating with contempt the affectionate regard of an hon- est heart.” I was too much shocked at this undisguised‘ti attempt to bully me into an acquiescence in the interested and unprincipled plan for their own aggyandisément, which I now perceived my un- cle ind his son to have deliberately entered into, at once to find strength or collectedness to frame an answer to what he had said. At length I re- plied with some firmness-— “In all that you have just now said, sir, you have grossly mix-stated my' conduct and motives ——for as it regards my conduct towards my cousin, my,manner towards him could have conveyed nothing but dislike ; and if'any thing could have s®oonial ” train. J _ —_~. [No. 131. added to the strong aversion which I have long felt towards him, it would be his attempting thus to trick and frighten me into a marriage which he knows to be revolting to me, and which is sought by him only as a means for securing to himself whatever property is mine." As I said this, I fixed my eyes upon those of my uncle, but he was too old in the world’s may to falter beneath the gaze of more searching eyes than mine ; he simply said—— “Are you acquainted with the provisions of your father’s will 1” I answered in the affirmative ; and he conti- nued— “Then you must be aware that if my son Ed- ward were, which God forbid, the unprincipled, reckless man you pretend to think him—(here he spoke very slowly, as if he intended that eve- ry word which escaped him should be register- ed in my memory, while at the same time the expression of his countenance underwent a gra- dual but horrible change, and the eyes which he placed upon me became so darkly vivid, that I almost lost sight of every thing else)— if he were what you have described him, think you, girl, he could find no briefer means than wed- ding contracts to gain his ends—’twas but to gripe your slender neck until the breath had stOpped, and lands, and lakes, and all were his.” I stood staring at him for many minutes after he had ceased to speak, fascinated by the terri- ble serpent-like gaze, until he continued, with a welcome countenance— " “I will not speak again to you upon this to- pic, until one month has passed. You shall have time to consider the relative advantages of the two courses which are open to you. I should be sorry to hurry you to a decision. I am satisfied with having stated my feelings upon the subject, and pointed out to you the path of duty. Re- member this day month—not one word sooner." He then rose, and I left the room, much agi- tated and exhausted. This interview, all the circumstances attend- ing it, but, most. particularly, the formidable ex- pression of my uncle’s countenance while he talked, though hypothetically, of murder, combi- ned to arouse all my worst suspicions of him. I dreaded to look upon the face that had so recent- ly worn the appalling livery of guilt and malig- nity. I regarded it with the mingled fear and loathing with which one looks upon an object which has tortured them in a night-mare. In a few days after the interview, the particu- lars of which I have just detailed, I found a note upon my toilet table, and on opening itI read as follows :— My dear Lady Margaret—You will be, per- haps, surprised to see a strange face in your room to-day. I have dismissed your Irish maid, and secured a French one to wait upon you—I step rendered necessary by my preposing shortly to visit the continent, with all my family. Your faithful guardian, ARTHUR. T N. On inquiry, I found that my faithful attendant was actually gone, and far on her way to the town of Galway ; and in her stead there appear- ed a tall, raw-boned. ill~looking, elderly French woman, whose sullen and presuming manners seemed to imply that her vocation had never be- fore been that of a lady’s maid. I could not help regarding her as a creature of my uncle’s, and therefore to be dreaded, even had she been in no other way suspicious. even a momentary doubt upon my part, as‘to the course to be pursued by me. od .had at length elapsed ; the day arrived upon which I was to communicate my decision to my uncle. Although my resolution had never for a moment wavered, I could not shake off the dread of the approaching colloquy; and my heart sunk ivithin me, as I heard the expected summons. I had not seen my cousin Edward since the occur- rence of the grand eclaircissement ,- he must have studiously avoided me—I suppose from policy. it could not have been fromdelicacy. I was pre- pared for a terrific burst of fury from my uncle, as soon as I should make known my determina- tion ; and I not unreasonably feared that some act of violence or ofintimidation would next be resorted to. Filled with these dreary forebo- dings, I fearfully opened the study door, and the next minuteI stood in my uncle’s presence. He as arguing a favourable ariticipatidn respecting the answer which 1 was to give ; and after some slight delay, he began by saying— “ It will be a reliefto both of us, I believe, to bring this conversation as soon as possible to an issue. You Will excuse me, then, my dear niece, for speaking with an abruptness which, under other circumstances, would be 3-u’npardonable. You have, I am certain, gigen the subject. ofnyr last interview fair and serious consider‘lrition ; find I trust that you are now prepared with candour to lay your answer before me. "A few words will suffice—we perfectly understand one another." “ He paused ; and I, though feeling that I stood upon a mine which might in an instant ex-' plode, nevertheless answered with perfect com- posure. "I must now, sir, make the same reply Days and weeks passed away, without any, I The allotted peri- ' received me with a politeness which I dreaded, I which I did upon the last occasion, and .I reuse