Oh, never may the hope that lights thine eyes, Sweet maid, be changed to disappointment's gloom; To the forced smile that care must oft assume; COLONEL HECKFIELD was a quiet, easy, amiable man, whom everybody loved. He was in the habit of thinking his wife understood such matters better than he did, and that, as she had hitherto married all his girls extremely well, there was no need of his interference. He always considered the affair as appertaining to Mrs. Heckfield, and never felt as if his daughters had any other share in the whole transaction, than that of being the instruments employed by Mrs. Heckfield's master-hand. So much did he look upon her as the principal, that he was once heard to say, "When my wife married Sir Charles Selcourt." The happy mother proceeded to inform Mademoiselle Hirondelle of the high honours which awaited her pupil. "Ah, Madame, I thought well when Miss Lucy had such bad headache yesterday que c'était l'objet. Miss Lucy was in anger with me, but I had reason. I know myself what it is de se consumer dans l'absence." Mrs. Heckfield dreaded the history of Mademoiselle's faithless lover, the bookseller at Caen, who had not written to her for three years seven months and three weeks, and she hastened to tell Emma that she might now look forward to coming out very soon. "And I shall go to Almack's with Lucy, after all, mamma!" Neither did Mrs. Heckfield fail to tell Milly of the lofty station to which her nursling would be raised. "Sure, ma'am! and so Miss Lucy is going to leave us," said Milly, with a calm and stoical manner, very unlike that she usually had when any thing most remotely affecting one of the "dear children" was in question. "Yes, nurse; and I do think I am the most fortunate of mothers." "La! ma'am, to have all your children leave you so soon ! Sure, you will be very lonesome when they are all married and gone?" "Oh, nurse, we mothers are never selfish. We wish for nothing but our children's advantage." How many parents sacrifice the happiness, under the firm conviction they are promoting the welfare of the children for whom they would themselves be ready to endure every privation ! Lucy had received her father's cordial blessing, Mademoiselle's Frenchified embrace, her sister's thoughtless, merry congratulations, and Milly's thoughtful, serious, good wishes. She came down to dinner with a cheek flushed by vague emotions, and conscious eyes, which durst not rest on any one. She looked really lovely! Lord Montreville was received by Mrs. Heckfield with unfeigned joy; by Colonel Heckfield with heartiness; by Lucy with a pleased tremor, which was perfectly satisfactory. A look from Mrs. Heckfield, and he seated himself by Lucy's side. "You will then allow me to prove by my future life, as I did this morning, when I sacrificed my own wishes to yours, that I prefer your gratification to my own." "Indeed, you are very good-I hope always...." Dinner was announced. Lord Montreville offered his arm to Lucy as the accepted lover, instead of to Mrs. Heckfield, as merely the visiter of highest rank. There was no retreating after this, even supposing she had wished to do so, for the Denbys and several others were present. He was more than usually amiable! His attentions were not too marked; his manners were so frank, and so polite to every one, there was nothing that could make her shy or uncomfortable; so that she felt quite grateful to him for putting her so much more at her ease than under the circumstances she could have thought possible. In the course of the evening, Mrs. Heckfield communicated the great event of the day to her friend Mrs. Denby, under a strict promise of secrecy, to which Mrs. Denby rigidly adhered; notwithstanding which, the small town of Lyneton and the adjoining village of Purley, and half the country-houses in the neighbourhood, were apprized of the fact before the next sun sank into the Western Ocean. The propagation of a secret is a mystery; everybody promises, and nobody breaks their promise; and yet the propagation of the secret is rapid in pro portion to the strictness of the promise-I cannot, and therefore will not attempt to explain this paradox. That night, when Milly attended Lucy's coucher, her countenance was unusually serious, and Lucy felt uncomfortable in her presence. She knew not what to say; and yet she was so much in the habit of making Milly a party to all the innocent pains and pleasures of her short life, that she felt awkward in not discussing this most momentous occurrence. "Nurse, I hope you will like Lord Montreville!" "I am sure, my dear Miss Lucy, I shall like any gentleman that makes you a good husband." "He told me, to-day, he had rather be wretched himself than give me one moment's annoyance." "Sure, miss! no gentleman can't speak no fairer than that." "I suppose that is what all lovers say, though. I suppose John said that kind of thing to you?" "Lord save your sweet heart, miss! John never said such fine things to me. He was but a plain-spoken young man; though he was always for saving me any trouble that he could, poor fellow! and nobody could work no harder for his family, while he had health to do it." "Won't it be nice having Emma to stay with me, and taking her out to the great balls?、And then mamma has been longing to give Mary a good singing-master. I can have her with me, you know, in London, where there are all the best masters ; and poor Mademoiselle would be so glad to see her sister ; and I will have such a charming school for poor children-(Bythe-by, they shan't have brown frocks, I like green so much better)-and I shall be sure to have a beautiful horse, for all the ladies ride in the Park now! Oh! and I can give Dame Notter the new red cloak I have so long wanted to get her, only my pocket-money was so low. Do you know the Montreville diamonds are supposed to be the finest in England after the Duchess of P's? And when I am in London, where you know I must be while Lord Montreville is attending Parliament, I shall see Harriet every day, and all those dear children! I wonder how far St. James's Square is from Upper Baker-Street?" "I can't say for certain, miss; but I think 'tis a good step." "Well, it does not signify; for of course I shall have carriages; and I can send for them constantly when. I do not go to Baker-Street." "Ah! you are a kind-hearted young lady; and good-night, E2 and God bless you, and may you be as happy as you expect to be, and as you deserve to be!" Milly sighed to think how much the notion of grandeur and of fine things of this world had taken possession of her young lady's mind; "Though, to be sure, 'twas all in the way of being kind and good to others." The next few days passed off agreeably enough. When among the rest of the family, Lord Montreville was so generally pleasing, that she felt happy and contented; but whenever they were alone, she felt unaccountably shy, and, if possible, she either left the room with her mother, or detained her sister by her side. The kind, protecting, almost parental manner, which had at first so won upon her confidence, while at the same time it flattered her vanity, was exchanged for something more of the lover; and the ease she had felt in his society was gradually diminishing, at the very moment it was most desirable it should increase. Moreover, she occasionally found that it was not impossible for her to do amiss in his eyes. Her inordinate passion for animals, which he had appeared to think so very naïf and fascinating, did not always meet with the same looks of amused admiration which had, unknown to herself, encouraged her in her avowed fondness for them. He frequently remonstrated with her upon running out without her bonnet, and upon taking off her gloves when she was arranging the flowers, by which means she dirtied, and occasionally even scratched her fingers. He was dreadfully particular about shoes! These were trifles; but it seemed to her odd, that the very things he had appeared to think natural charms, "snatching a grace beyond the reach of art," should now be the very points he wished altered. She was not aware how often the fault which excites disapprobation allures, while it is condemned:-how often, also, the virtue which charms is most perseveringly undermined by the person who peculiarly feels its attractions. Mrs. Heckfield insisted upon going to London to procure the wedding-clothes. Poor Lucy! Many people have a distinct abstract love of dress; - happy is it for them!-for as there is no doubt that a tolerably good-looking woman, very well dressed, will, in these days, eclipse a much handsomer one who is ill-dressed, surely it is a fortunate thing for those who can thus amuse and embellish themselves at the same time. But this was not Lucy's case. She was glad to look as well as she could, but the means of doing so were to her irksome; and she would fain have trusted the whole affair to mamma and to Mademoiselle. But no! Lord Montreville was exceedingly particular and anxious upon the subject. He especially recommended the only shoemaker who, to his mind, had an idea of making a shoe; and Lucy had at least half-a-dozen pair made, fitted, and descanted upon, before he was satisfied that they did justice to the shape of her foot, which proved extremely good when it was properly chaussé. She was half angry at his numerous criticisms and remarks upon the make of her gowns, and considerably bored at the number of times he wished to have them altered; still he did it all in so kind and so good-humoured a manner, she could not do otherwise than submit. But when he recommended his own dentist, and various tinctures, and tooth-powders, she felt half insulted. With the full consciousness about her of youth, and health, and ivory teeth, she thought, though he might have occasion for dentists and dentrifices, she needed not such things, and she felt for a moment the full difference of their ages. It was but for a moment-she was his plighted wife-her young affections were vowed to him; and she would have fancied herself guilty to wish him other than he was. There were moments when her spirits were somewhat depressed; but at others, she was dazzled and excited by the beautiful presents that arrived every day. The diamonds, the Montreville diamonds, which were now hers. The large pearl, which had belonged to Henrietta Maria, and which had been given by her to an ancestress of Lord Montreville's; a diamond ring, placed by Charles II. on the taper finger of the beautiful wife of a Sir Ralph Montreville, a short time previous to his elevation to the peerage; an antique aigrette, presented by Queen Anne, on occasion of a royal fête ! Ornaments of more modern date were showered upon her; but the heir-looms which assorted so well with the Welsh Castle, with its unpronounceable name, its donjon keep, its subterranean passages, and its massive walls, were much more suited to her taste. Lord Montreville had neither father, mother, brother, nor sister, to whom he need introduce his bride elect; and as all his cousins and other relatives were out of town at this season of the year, he lived entirely with his future family, without being called upon to introduce them to any of his own circle. This was precisely what he wished. Little did Lucy imagine, when, in the warmth of her heart, she was anticipating the kind things she would do to brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins, how little Lord Montreville intended to marry the whole family. |