only fault which they found with him was, that his conversation seemed over-much guarded for one of his age. He appeared unwilling to show himself as he really was, and the greatest confidence which could be reposed in him produced no corresponding return. He walked in society like one who came to look on rather than to mix in it; and although his dependants lived in profusion, his table was rarely enlivened save by the dogs which had been the compa nions of his sport. Vibert, whose character it was to judge always favourably, believed that his manner and mode of life proceeded from the consciousness of a faulty education, and a mistrust of his capacity to redeem lost time. He felt a friendliness for him, bordering upon compassion; and their near neighbourhood affording him frequent opportunities of throwing himself in his cause he mistook the choice bin of the cellar when wine was prescribed for the sickness of the poor; and a third, because he suffered himself to be convinced by him in politics, and thus deprived him of the opportunity of holding forth arguments which gave his company due time to discuss their good cheer. There was but one person who understood him, and this was his nephew; who continued to the last his only companion, and kept him alive solely by knowing how to manage him. He had the good taste never to remind him of his years by approaching him with that awe which is commonly demonstrated by young people towards the old; and the tact to observe exactly where his foibles would bear raillery, and where they required sympathy. He could lead him from one mood to another, so that the longest day in his company never seemed monotonous; or if he rambled away amongst the neighbour-way, a considerable degree of intimacy was, in hood, he could return at night with a tale of adventures which sent him to bed without repining at the prospect of to-morrow. Unluckily the old man considered him too necessary to his comforts to part with him; and though merely the son of a younger brother, without fortune or expectation, he was not permitted to turn his mind to a profession, or to any thing beyond the present. The youth, however, was scarcely twenty-three; and at such an age, a well-supplied purse for the time being, leaves but little anxiety for the future. With a good education, picked up as he could, by snatches, a sprightly disposition, and a talent equal to any thing, young Vibert of Hazledell was as welcome abroad as he was at home; and it was augured that his handsome figure and countenance would stand him in the stead of the best profession going. The young ladies would turn from any beau at the county-ball to greet his arrival, and never think of engaging themselves to dance till they were quite sure that he was disposed of. One remarked upon the blackness of his hair, another upon the whiteness of his forehead; and the squires who were not jealous of him, would entertain them with his feats of horsemanship and adroitness at bringing down, right and left. Still Vibert was not spoiled, and the young ladies pulled up their kid gloves till they split, without making any visible impression upon him. His obstinacy was quite incomprehensible. Each ridiculed the disappointment of her friend, in the hope of concealing her own; and all turned for consolation, to the young master of Heroncliff. Marcus of Heroncliff was nearly of an age with Vibert, and was perhaps still more popular with the heads of families, if not with the younger branches; for he the advantage of an ample fortune. His person, also, was well formed, and his features were, for the most part, handsome; but the first had none of the grace of Vibert, and the last had a far different expression. His front, instead of being cast in that fine expansive mould, was contracted and low, and denoted more cunning than talent. His eye was too deeply sunk to indicate openness or generosity; and the tout ensemble gave an idea of sulkiness and double-dealing. It was held by many that this outward appearance was not a fair index of his disposition, which was said to be liberal and good natured. The course of time, established between them. Vibert was right, as far as he went, in his estimate of his friend's mind; but he never detected its grand feature. Marcus was sensible that he was below par amongst those of his rank, and a proud heart made him bitterly jealous of all who had the advantage of him. It was this that gave verity to the expression which we have before noticed in his features; made him a torment to himself; and rendered him incapable of sympathising with others. If a word were addressed to him, he believed that it was designed to afford an opportunity of ridiculing his reply; if contradiction was opposed to him, his visage blackened as though he felt that he had been insulted. Vibert, so open to examination, was the only person whom he did not suspect and dread. They hunted, shot, and went into society together; and it was observed that Marcus lost nothing by the contact. His confidence increased, his reserve in some degree disappeared, and Vibert secretly congratulated himself on having fashioned a battery to receive the flattering attentions from which he was anxious to escape. His ambition, indeed, was otherwise directed. At a few miles distance from Hazledell was a pretty estate, called Silvermere, from a sma!! lake, which reflected the front of the dwelling and the high grounds and rich timber behind it. It was inhabited by persons of consideration in the county, who were too happy at home to mix much with their neighbours. In fact, of a numerous family, there was but one daughter old enough to be introduced; and she was of a beauty so rare, that there was little danger in keeping her upon hand until her sister was of an age to accompany her into society. In this family, Vibert had been for some time a favourite, and had been fascinated on his first introduction to it. The beauty of whom we have made mention, and her sister, a year or two younger, were placed on either side of him; and it was hard to know whether most to admire the wild tongue and laughing loveliness of the younger-the fair-haired Edith; or the retiring, but smiling dignity of the black eyes and pale fine features of the elder-the graceful Marion. They were, perhaps, both pleased to see the hero of the county conversations; but the younger one was the foremost The Sisters. to display it without being a flirt, she was frank, and had the rare, natural gift of saying and doing what she pleased without danger of misconstruction. The daring but feminine gaiety of this young creature speedily dispelled from the mind of Vibert all idea of his recent acquaintance. On his making some mention of it, she assured him that, on her part, the acquaintance was by no means recent, for she had heard him discussed as often as any Knight of the Round Table. "To place you upon an'equality with us," she said, "I will tell you what sort of persons we are, and you can judge whether at any future time, when your horse happens to knock up in our neighbourhood, and your dinner to be five miles off, you will condescend to take advantage of us. Papa and mamma, who you see have been a handsome couple, and would think themselves so still, if they had not such a well grown family, are by no means rigid, exacting, fault-finding and disagreeable, like papas and mammas in general. They have had the good taste to discover our precose talents, and profit by being our companions instead of our rulers, from the time we learned the art of spelling words of one syllable, and doing as we were not bidden. Instead of scolding us for our misdeeds, they used to reason with us as to their propriety, and generally got the worst of the argument; so, saving that in virtue of our old companionship we make them the confidants of most of our dilemmas, they have brought us up charmingly undutiful and self-willed. "As for Marion, she is a young lady erroneously supposed to be the pride of the family, and who presumes to regard me with a patronising complacency which seems to intimate an idea that, one of these days, I shall really learn to talk. She is a sedate personage, who tries to reflect upon things; but as the same deep study has shaded her brow as long as I can recollect, I imagine that she does not often come to a conclusion. Yet the falsely-styled pride of Silvermere does not blanch her cheeks in the unwholesome atmosphere of learned tomes; nor by spinning the globes, nor by hunting the stars. Her character is a little touched with romance, and her study is how to mend a bad world, which continues ailing in spite of her. She gives all her consolation, and half of her pin-money, to a tribe of old dames and young damsels, who, under such patronage, only pull our hedges in greater security, or add fresh colours to the costume which is to flaunt triumphant on the fair day. The urchins whom she teaches to guess their lessons,' and buys off from aiding in the toils of their parents, are the most mischievous in the neighbourhood; and, in short, things go on worse and worse, and poor Marion does not know what to make of it. From the humbier world, so different from the Arcadian affair of her imagination, she turns with despair to the sphere in which she is herself to move, and shudders at the prospect of disappointment there also. Where amongst such a community of young ladies battling for precedence, and young gentlemen vowing eternal constancy to a dozen at a time, can she look for the friend of her soul, or the more favoured being who is to console her for the want of one! Alas, the pride of SilverMuseum.-VOL. XIV. mere! with feelings so delicate that a gossamer Vibert's calls were repeated often, each one There seems in the affairs of the heart, to be an unaccountable intelligence, by which, without the use of external signs, the tremors of the one generally find their reverberation in the other. Often as Vibert entered to share in the morning amusements of the sisters, to give an account of the horse that he was breaking in for Marion, or the dog he was teaching antics for Edith, it was impossible for him to be insensible to an increasing flush of satisfaction at his appearance, and by degrees he gave up all other society, and had no pastime to which Marion, was not a party. Both young, both interested in the other's happiness, it was not likely that they should reflect, how the brightest flowers may be the seat of poison, and the sweetest moments the parents of misery. Their intimacy became more confidential; and Edith left them more and more to themselves to seek amusement elsewhere. Still there was no question of love. Vibert knew that without fortune or expectations, he could have no pretension to Marion; and that the number of her young brothers and sisters must render it impossible for her father to remedy the deficiency. It was then that he felt the extent of the sacrifice he had made in devoting himself so entirely to his uncle. Had he adopted any profession, he might have obtained a home of his own, to say the least; and, however humble that home might have been, would Marion have shrunk from it? Would Marion have failed to make it the richest spot upon earth? He was yet an when many commence their caonly of age reer; his mind was too active and too brilliant to suffer his habits to become so fixed but that he could apply them to any thing. He determined upon breaking the matter to his uncle: and, as Edith was now eighteen, and the sisters were just about to appear in public, there was no time to be lost. If Marion were not to go forth with a hand already engaged, what had he not to apprehend? Fortunes and honours would be at her feet-friends would reasonparents might command, and what had she to reply? She loved an idler who lived upon another's bounty, and whose future means were something worse than precarious. He No. 79.-E "We can get over that obstacle, I think, by doubling your allowance." "My dear Sir, you do not understand its full extent. Marion's family would never consent, unless she were to be the mistress of an establishment of her own." "We can remedy that, too, Vibert. Divide the house with me at the middle of the cellar, and brick up the communications. Divide the stables and the horses, have new wheels and new arms to the old family rumbletumble, and make any farther arrangements you please. You have been a good boy, to bear with a crazy old man so long, and I should not like you to be a loser by it." "My dear uncle, there was no need of this additional generosity to secure my gratitude and endeavours to prove it. I did not speak for the purpose of placing any farther tax upon you, but merely to consult you whether it were not better that I thought of some profession, by which I might attain a position in life not liable to reverse.' " "A profession!-what, one that would call you away from Hazledell?" "I fear all professions would subject me to that affliction." The uncle's colour rose, and his brow dark ened. "Vibert leave me in my old age, when I have become entirely dependent upon him! Vibert knock away the only crutch that props me up from the grave-bequeath me to the mercy of hired servants, with not a soul to exchange a word of comfort with me ?-What fortune could you obtain which would compensate for reflections like these ?" "Stay, nephew, and see me into my gravethe reverse which you apprehend,-I never thought that you could so coldly contemplate my extinction; but it is right and natural that you should do so. Only stay, and I promise you that I will not keep you long,-I will curtail my expenses, banish my few old friends, dismiss my servants, and live upon bread and water, to save what I can for you from the estate. I cannot cause it to descend to you; but at all events, I can save for you as much as you would be likely to make by leaving me. Yet, if it be your wish to go, e'en go; I had rather you would leave me miserable, than stay to wish me dead." The old man had worked himself into a fit of | childish agitation, and Vibert saw that argument was useless. "Uncle," he replied, with a look and voice of despair," make yourself easy. Marion will find another husband, who will perhaps render her happier than I could, and I will remain with you as I have done hitherto." From this time, Vibert spared no effort to overcome his ill-starred passion, as well for Marion's sake as for his own; seeking every possible pretext to render his visits less frequent, and to pay them in company. Marion perceiv ed the change at the moment it took place, and, although she could not dispute its propriety, her sensibility was wounded to the quick. She commenced her first round of provincial gaiety with a fever at her heart, and an ominous presage of sorrow. The appearance of the Silvermere party formed an epoch in the annals of the county,and, as Vibert had foreseen, there was not a squire of the smallest pretensions who did not address himself sedulously to make the agreeable to them. They had little encouragement, however, in their attempts, excepting from Edith. Her heart was free, and her tongue was full of joy; but Marion was looking for the return of Vibert; and the reserved glance of her eye kept flattery at a distance, and hope in fetters. Still he returned not-she never met him in society, but she constantly heard of his having been at balls and merry-makings where she was not. It was in the vain pursuit of his peace of mind; and she was too generous to attribute it to any thing else. On his occasional visits of ceremony, she received him as if nothing material had happened; but the flush was gone from her cheek, and the smile that remained, was cold and sickly. Meantime, rumour was liberal in assigning to each of the sisters her share of intended husbands. Vibert listened to the catalogue with all the trepidation of a lover who had really entertained hopes. Alas! if that selfish principle of denying to another what we cannot enjoy ourselves be excusable in any case, it is so in love. The loved object which belongs to no other, still appears to be in some degree our own; and fancy conjures up in spite of us, an indefinable trust in the future, of which the total destruction falls like the blow of an assassin. It was thus with Vibert, when, after, writhing long in secret anguish at the mention of any name connected with that of Marion, report from all quarters concurred in the same uncontradicted tale. Marion was receiving the addresses of Marcus of Heroncliff: of him, for whom he had himself, from motives of the purest kindness, secured the good thoughts of her family-him whom he had made the confi. dant of his love-him who had professed himself to be only waiting for encouragement to throw himself at the feet of her sister! That he should have met him daily, and never hinted at the change in his intentions!-Yet might it not have been that he feared to inflict pain? That he should have deserted Edith when his conduct had implied all that was devoted!— Yet, was it not for Marion? But then, that Marion should have become the rival of her sister? Yet, oh! how soon she had overcome the remembrance of him, and how natural was it for the cold in love to become the faithless in friendship. Thus Vibert went on arguing for and against all the parties, and winding up with a forced ejaculation of, "it is nothing to me-it is no affair of mine ;"-it was meant to confirm his pride, but only proved his wretchedness. Upon this principle, and from a sense of his want of self-possession, the name of Marion never passed his lips in the presence of Marcus, who, on his part, was equally silent. The report upon which this conduct was adopted was not so destitute of reason as those which had preceded it. Marcus, with the failing already noticed, was incapable of being a true friend; and though at his first introduction at Silvermere, the marked intelligence between Marion and Vibert reduced him to the necessity of devoting his attentions to Edith, yet the bare circumstance of her sister's preference for another was sufficient to kindle in his heart the most burning anxiety to obtain her for himself. Without considering Vibert's earlier acquaintance, he felt himself eclipsed, and his honour wounded. The moment, therefore, that his friend's visits were discontinued, his own were redoubled. They were naturally, from his previous behaviour, laid by the family to the account of Edith; and upon this conviction, Marion often used him as a protection against the advances of her unwelcome host of admirers. If she was asked to dance, she was engaged to Marcus, and his arm was always ready to conduct her to her carriage. It was observed that she received much more of his attention than was bestowed upon her sister; and insensibly their manner in public became the practice in private, where there was no need for it. His hopes rose high, and he scrupled not to advance them by endeavouring to extirpate the last kind feeling, which he thought might yet linger, for poor Vibert. One while he affected chagrin, and invented excesses on the part of his friend as the cause of it: at another time he was incensed at injurious words, which he alleged to have been employed by Vibert towards herself. At last, when he thought himself quite secure, he disclosed his passion, and was rejected with astonish ment. The sting for one like him had a thousand barbs; he loved the beautiful Marion with all the energy of a soul which had never before loved a human being. Common report, and his confidence in her resentment against Vibert, had made him consider her as already his own. His triumph over all the competitors that he had feared, envied, and detested, was, as he deemed, on the eve of completion; and now he was to be the object of derision, and mock pity! The means which he had used to ingratiate himself would probably be divulged. The inmost core of his heart would be exposed and scorned; and Vibert whom he felt to be the latent cause of his rejection, was perhaps finally to be reinstated, and to flaunt his triumph daily before his eyes! The very evils which bad minds have attempted to inflict upon others, become a provocation to themselves: they have been defeated, and therefore they have been injured! and the rejected suitor returned home pallid, and quivering with an ague fit of mortal hate. The attentions of Marcus had never been discussed between the sisters until the occurrence of this catastrophe. He left them in a shaded alley of the pleasure-grounds, which were beginning to be strewed with the yellow leaves of autumn; and a clouded sunset cast a few long streaks across the sward, and made the deep recesses look still more sombre. There are few who do not feel a melancholy peculiar to this period of the year. Marion had a double reason; for it was about the same time in the preceding autumn, and in the summer-house but a few steps before her, that she had passed the last happy hour with Vibert! "Marion," said Edith, as they walked on, with their arms fondly resting upon each other's neck, "you are not well. It is long since you were well; but I had hoped that the attachment of Marcus would have dispelled a deep grief, of which you forbade me ever to speak. I trusted that your heart had been arrested in its progress of sorrow, and I was silent, lest you should think me jealous of my sweet rival." "Heavens! that my apathy should have been so great as to mistake his attentions. I only bore with him because I thought him yours." "Marion, I love him not; and never should have wished him loved by you, had I not felt that your life depended on the diversion of your thoughts. I have been mistaken; you have been dying daily, and unless you would have me die with you, let me write to Vibert. Sweet Marion, let me write, as from myself, in my own wild way, merely to bid him come and dance on my birth-day." "No, Edith, no. He would suspect the reaenough left to save me from contempt, if not son; it is too humiliating. I have still pride to support me from-Edith, let us talk of other things." She leaned her head upon her sister's bosom, and both were weeping, when they were startled by the gallop of a horse, and a ring at the garden gate. Edith saw that it was the servant of Vibert, and she sprang like a fawn to inquire his commission. He brought a letter for Marion, and thus it ran: "The relations who stood between me and the succession to the estates of Hazledell, are dead. I am now my uncle's heir; but I fear too late. The sorrow of withdrawing myself to my proper distance when I was poor, is probably to be followed up by the anguish of being forbidden to return now that I am rich. I dare not appear before you till I hear the re, futation of your reported engagements with Marcus-till you bid me look forward to a termination of the misery which a feeling of honour obliged me to inflict upon myself." Marion sank for support against the ivytwined pillar of the summer-house. Edith kissed her pale cheek, and fondly whispered, "I told you so: what answer will you send ?" After the first moments of tremulous agitation -after an interval of silence, to lull the tumults of her heart, Marion merely ejaculated, "Poor Vibert! I thought he had forgotten me!" "Rather say, poor Edith," replied her sister, with a burst of that natural gaiety which had of late almost forsaken her; "poor Edith has now the willow-wreath all to herself. Alas! for some doughty champion to twine it round the neck of the false lord of Heroncliff!-'Tis time that I endow you with all my finery, and prepare for a nunnery." With that she playfully took from her neck a simple hair chain, the appendage to which had always been carefully hidden in her bosom, and cast it over the unadorned head of Marion. "Look!" she exclaimed, with increased archness, and gazing upon her averted eyes, to see if the smile had yet returned to them, "look what a jewel I bestow upon you; I have cherished it ever since we sat for our miniatures, and the artist amused himself between whiles with studying a head for Apollo. Why do you not look?" Marion turned her eyes, and was surprised by her lover's likeness. "Then Marion can smile? Oh, the joy to see it! I begged this little jewel for your wedding-present; but, in truth, this seems no bad opportunity, as the cavalier may now speak for himself. See what a sad brow-what an imploring eye. Here-here is a pencil-the servant waits for a reply." Marion tore the back from her letter, and wrote-" "The reports are unfounded-the future is in your power." "Edith!" she said, when the messenger was dismissed; "give me your arm back to the house, for I feel faint. In the midst of all this happiness, there is a sickness at my heart,-a strange boding, that I am only tantalized by chimeras, and meant for misfortune. Perhaps I deceive myself. Perhaps it is only the strange bewilderment occasioned by this revolution in all that interests me. I cannot help it." The messenger, who had been despatched by Vibert the inoinent he became aware of his happy fortune, did not return in time for him to profit ere the morrow by Marion's answer. It was a gusty and querulous night-the old trees by his window groaned as though they were in trouble, and the scud swept along the sky like a host of spectres. He felt low and oppressed, in spite of himself. His uncle had left him ominously distressed at the news which he had lately received. After having retired for the night, he had come back to shake hands with him again. The younger ones, he said, were dropping about him, and leaving him desolate, to lainent the luckless humour which had impeded him from adding to their comforts, as he might have done. Every joint of him trembled, lest he should live too long. "God bless you, Vibert," he added, "you have always been a good boy, and have borne kindly with my infirmitiesGod bless you!-God bless you! Vibert, you will go to-morrow to Silvermere? I have long prevented you from being happy, and you owe me no thanks that you are so at last. Go to bed, you have grown thin from want of sleep; and it is all my fault." He quitted him again with affectionate, and almost childish reluctance; and Vibert paced his room, in a fever of anticipation, till the rising of the sun, which had seemed as if it never meant to rise again. It was still too early to set out for Silvermere, but he knew that Marcus rose with the dawn for his fieldsports, and his generous mind was unwilling to lose an instant in acknowledging and asking pardon for the suspicions which he had entertained of his friendship. He walked rapidly to Heroncliff, and found Marcus, as he had anticipated, up and dressed; in fact, he had passed the night in the same manner as he himself had done, and his face looked haggard and wild. "Marcus," said Vibert, "I come to tell you a piece of strange news." "I know it already," replied Marcus, with an attempt to look glad. "I met your servant going to Silvermere with it. Your uncles in India are dead." "I scarcely recollect them, and it would therefore be ridiculous to affect much grief for their loss; but the circumstance has been the means of showing me an injustice committed against yourself, at which I am sincerely grieved. I believed that you entertained an intention of supplanting me in the love of Marion; and although my reason had nothing to object to it, my heart felt that it was not the part which I would have acted towards you. I have accused you bitterly; but see, Marion has herself exculpated you; and you must even forgive me as one who has been too unhappily bewildered to be master of himself." Marcus took his offered hand and laughed, but with a fearful expression, which he strove to hide by casting his eyes on the ground. "Then Marion," he observed, looks forward to being the lady of Hazledell?" "Ay, and to do the honours of it to her sister, the lady of Heroncliff. My son shall marry your daughter, and we will join the estates in one." Marcus drew in his breath with a harrowing sound. "Vibert," he said, "we had best remain unmarried; we are more independent to pursue our pastimes; we are not obliged to receive the society which is odious to us; and whilst we are free, we are the more welcomed abroad. Promise me you will think no more of it." "You would not ask it, if you felt like me, that you were beloved by Marion. What do I care for independence and my reception abroad, when I have such a thraldom and such a paradise at home!" "You are determined, then?" "Can you doubt it? I am even now on my way to Silvermere. I should arrive too SOOR on horseback, and am therefore obliged to walk, for I cannot be easy until I find myself on my way thither. Come, take your gun and accompany me." "I will accompany, in the hope of dissuading you, and bringing you back before you arrive there." "And I will drag you into fetters whether you will or not. Come; it is time to start, if we would be there by breakfast time. What ails you? You look pale and shivering this morning; and see,-for the first time in your life, you have forgotten your gun." With that he kindly took it from where it stood, and presented it to him. |