to say, that at twelve to-morrow I should set off for and that I wished all things to be got in readiness." Square, "Yes, my lady," murmured out the waiting-woman. "I beg your pardon, but I will send Mrs. Waters to your ladyship;" and she disappeared. "The girl is gone deranged, I fear," said the countess, looking, I thought, a little uneasy, as she ran over the strings of her harp, and warbled, sotto voce, the following lines. "Love was once a cherub bright, Love had not been on earth a day, Ere he began wild pranks to play ; He hurl'd each monarch from his throne, The entrance of the aged housekeeper, Mrs. Waters, cut the thread of love's eventful history; indeed her countenance seemed as if it would annihilate for ever so gentle a deity; sour-krout was nothing to it! The countess stopped mechanically, and I fancied turned exceedingly pale. "Your ladyship has given orders, I find, to leave this place for London to-morrow?" said Mrs. Waters, looking like a hogshead of verjuice. "My lord, before his departure for Ireland, with his two dear children, gave strict commands, that the carriage was not to be used until his return!" "And it is the command of your lady," returned the Countess, quite unmoved, except that a bright roseate hue spread itself over her features, and mantled even on her bosom and arms; "it is the command of your lady, that preparations should be made for my depar ture immediately-I shall not stay to be confined here." 66 "For the sake of your innocent children, my lady," pursued the severe Mrs. Waters, “ provoke not my excellent master, by disobeying his strict injunctions let me entreat you, Madam, to countermand your orders, and remain here as he wished, nay, insisted on your doing." 66 ، You are a good creature, Waters, and love your lord very much," exclaimed the lady, sweeping her hand playfully across her harp, causing it to give out a wild and beautiful cadence. "I must have this instrument packed up too," she continued carelessly. "I like its tones better than the one in London. Do not teaze yourself, my good Waters, by interfering between my lord and myself. We shall get over our little squabble very soon, as we have done a hundred others before, so you may go and tell-but no, I will not trouble you; I have already issued my orders." "They cannot be obeyed, Madam," responded the old lady, with increased severity. "Stevens has just said, that he dared not put the horses to your ladyship's carriage, so positive were my lord's injunctions." "Send Stevens to me," was the mild reply of Lady T-; but the housekeeper moved not. "You will soon have your things prepared, Mrs. Griffiths," said the imperturbable Countess to myself, taking no further notice of the pale and trembling Mrs. Waters. "As for my wardrobe," continued she, "that will soon be packed, for I must have every thing new in London, when I am fit to be seen. Altered dresses are always an abomination!" "Does your ladyship mean then really to go to London tomorrow?" inquired Mrs. Waters, looking quite awfully. "Have I not said it, my good old soul," answered her lady, looking her full in the face, with so witching, yet comical an air, that for the life of me I could not refrain from smiling. "You would not smile if you knew all," exclaimed the old lady, turning to me. "The heart of my dear lord is nearly broken, and as for that fair, but-no matter, she is standing on the brink of a precipice, and if she takes one step further" "Over she goes," cried the incorrigible lady. "Why, I have been by your account, Waters, hanging over this dreadful abyss ever since I was married." "You have, my lady," replied the other with much bitterness, "and if it were not for my absent lord, and the dear lovely children-" "I might just take the leap as soon as I please, you mean to say," cried the lady, a little impatiently. "Well, no matter, send Stevens to me-if warning could have saved so wilful a creature as myself, you, my good woman, would have done it; so you stand absolved, you know, whatever may come to pass." And she waived her hand, to dismiss the aged remonstrater. "You see," observed the countess, after a considerable pause, which I felt not at all inclined to break, having a thousand painful surmises running through my mind, some of them, I recollect, connected with the portrait of her ladyship, of which her lord had so many years ago declared "that no eye should ever look again upon that picture." "You see," said the countess to me confidentially, "that I have got myself into sad disgrace with Lord T, who is unfortunately of a very jealous temper, and very sentimental withal. Then I have been a little extravagant too, I fear, and-and, very unlucky lately at cards. I have incurred a few paltry debts of honour, so the dear, serious, old-fashioned soul, my husband, has carried off my two pretty children, governess and all, to his estates in Ireland, quite in a rage. But I know very well, he has made himself much more wretched by all this than he has me; and if I had a particle of jealousy or suspicion in my own composition, how I could retaliate upon him if I chose-how twit him, about his carrying off Miss Willoughby, the governess, under pretence of her educating the children; and his living with her, so romantically, in his old castle near Dublin!" "Of course you hear from Lord T, Madam," at length I said, as I saw it was expected I should make some reply. "You must miss the society of your dear little ones very much, and must feel anxious about their health, as well as about their father's, when they are all at such a distance." "Oh yes, I hear every week," answered the lady," for that kind, good creature, sister Willoughby, makes it a point of informing me how they are all going on; she does it unknown to my lord, I believe, for he is very angry with me." "Is he so seriously displeased then, Madam," said I, "as to object to your natural wish of hearing how your family are. He must be a very severe, and unjust man indeed, let him be ever so angry, to deny you this gratification." "Let me do him justice," replied the countess;—and whatever were her faults, and they were many, at that moment she had an angel's feelings, and as she threw up her fine blue eyes to heaven, and a tear started to them, she looked indeed like one. "Let me not wrong the noble nature of my lord; I have provoked him, I believe beyond his forgiveness, but he is one of the most generous and affectionate beings on earth!-too good, alas, for me!-But here comes old Stevens the coachman; he must not see me thus! Now for a trial of skill between myself and this bluff charioteer of my lord's, armed at all points against me, by his authority,-and yet you shall see, Mrs. Griffiths, how I will disperse all his resolutions to the wind." the light-hearted conscious beauty smiled in anticipated triumph even over the fat, red-faced, and determined-looking John, who, hat in hand, entered the apartment, standing sturdily at the door, seemingly resolute to obey to the last tittle his lord's commands, and keep up the just authority of the male part of the creation. "How is poor Blossom to-day, Stevens?" enquired the countess, with a voice so softly compassionate, that the man I saw was instantly thrown off his guard. "She be very bad, my lady; won't feed, and grows as thin as a natomy." "Have you taken her shoes off, and sent her into the clover field? but why should I ask? I am sure you have done every thing you could for my favourite mare-she was a present to me, you know, Stevens by your lord, just after" "Your ladyship came here as a bride," said the man. "Such a mare, and such a lady seated on top on her, never shall I see again!" This compliment, so naturally spoken, was not unacceptable to her who heard it. No matter from what quarter to her, so adulation came; and there was not a single male creature at T— Hall, that could administer a dose of it at this moment, but " Sturdy Stevens" the coachman. "I think you put my little Philip on that beautiful, spirited, but gentle animal for the first time, did you not, Stevens?" enquired the lady with a smile, that would have charmed Mephistopheles himself. "I did, my lady, and uncommon well he rode for sich a little-un !— how pleased my lord did look to be sure," cried the man. "Stevens!" said the lady, "how goes on my little godson Willie? I owe you something for his schooling, I believe; here, take this purse, and if you find a little more in it than what that comes to, your wife may buy herself a new cloak and gown with it, not forgetting though, some smart clothes for my little godson." The coachman was overpowered; he weighed the purse in his hand; it was heavy. He thought of the delight with which Sukey Stevens, his loving partner, living in a cottage near the stables, would look upon this gold, and the comforts it would purchase for her, nay, even luxuries he stood in the presence of the Countess a subdued man, ready to do whatever might be required of him. Now came the tug of war;—but no, the battle was already won. 'Stevens," said the Countess, in a very careless tone, "Your lord thought the quiet of the country would do me good, just at this time, so he most kindly insisted on my remaining here until his return; but I find the air does not at present agree with me, so (mind I take all the responsibility on myself) I intend to set off to London to-morrow morning at twelve precisely. Therefore, I shall want the carriage at the door-stay, you may make it a quarter of an hour later; and be sure you leave strict orders, Stevens, about the proper care of my poor old Blossom, and tell Willie, my godson, too, I shall send him down a live watch, a real one; one that will tick. And now, Mrs. Griffiths," turning to me, "I will take a nap for an hour, as I did not sleep well last night." For a moment, the rubicund coachman stood at the door, twisting the handle of it in his hand, in another the door closed after him—and the Countess burst into a fit of laughter. "Io triumphe!" exclaimed the beautiful tactician, "and now, thank heaven, once more for London !" Little experience had I then in my vocation. I did not like the appearance of things at all, but I had too many sorrows of my own, recent and unassuaged, to reflect very deeply on the affairs of others; so I entered very readily the next morning into the carriage of Lady T—, who had her own footman and woman on the rumble. We proceeded by very easy stages; slept twice on the road, and by six o'clock in the evening, the lady was handed from her carriage into her own house in Square, by a very aristocratical sort of personage, rather stout, rather bald, and very good looking; a gentleman about the age of forty, who, as he addressed the lady by the familiar name of "Emmy," I thought must be Lord T, and I was rejoicing in my own mind instantly that all their differences were made up; that the mother would now soon have her children again in her arms, and her husband protecting her, as he ought to do, when I heard the footman and waiting-woman whispering most significantly together, and saw the sturdy fat coachman shake his head, and wink with one of his eyes at them both, as he exclaimed mutteringly, "Ah, I see how it is! I shall lose my place for this day's work. Well, no matter; I shall soon get another." Little did I see of Lady T for the next week, but I heard enough from all quarters to shock me inexpressibly. Another nobleman than the absent Lord, one who had once been his most intimate friend, the gentleman I had seen hand her from her carriage with so empressé an air, was in the habit now of spending all his mornings alone with her in her boudoir; of reading to her amusing books in the evening; of presenting her daily with bouquets, essences, and every thing he fancied that could please or interest her; and, in short, was destroying her reputation for ever, and injuring in the most. essential point the honour and happiness of Lord T. This treacherous nobleman, to whom I shall give the name of Viscount Falconshaw, was in the custom, I learned, of playing at ecarté and other games, with this most imprudent and dangerous woman, who seldom failed of drawing most largely from his purse, by such means, as he always rose up the loser. It was then, it seems, for the purpose of indulging in a criminal passion, that Lady T had broken through her Lord's positive injunctions to remain at his country house in shire, that he might not be compelled, from compassion to her then situation, to throw her off publicly for ever. How did my heart ache for the sensitive and cruelly wronged husband and father; how burn with indig. nation against the profligate Viscount, and his equally as criminal a paramour! In my first disgust at all I witnessed, all I heard, I was tempted to throw up my office of attending upon a lady so lost to all sense of decency and decorum; at any rate, I was resolved to remonstrate with her on her conduct, show her the enormity of her crime, and insist upon it, that Viscount Falconshaw should be banished the house, at least as long as I was in it. Just as I had formed these proper resolutions, and had arranged all my arguments in proper form, Lady T was taken ill, and after a few hours of suffering, a little healthy boy was born. This was not the time, certainly, to preach a sermon of morality to my most lovely, but most dishonourable patient. Cold and repulsive I was in my manner to her, there can be no doubt; but I performed my duty towards her, and the poor unconscious babe, who had Heaven in his look, angelic innocence in his eye, although, according to human nomenclature, he was, as his unhappy mother afterwards acknowledged to me," the child of shame." Every day there arrived a note from the seducer to his secluded mistress, with some little expensive offering or other; and, although she always blushed when these perfumed billets were handed to her, yet she never refused them, nor, indeed, made a single observation respecting them. A letter came every week from her correspondent, the governess of her children, Miss Willoughby, who either had not, or did not seem to wish to have, a knowledge of the full culpability of the lady she served. She spoke, indeed, in these letters, of the increasing dejection of poor Lord T; that he looked pale and thin-that he could not endure company-that he often wept over his children, especially the elder one, little Philip who possessed, I heard, all the perfect beauty of his mother, with deep blue eyes, her exquisite mouth, and flaxen hair. "He has lost his colour much, since we have been in Ireland," wrote this sensible young woman, in one of her letters, "and has, besides, a slight cough; O how I wish Lord Twould take us all back again to England. I am sure little Philip pines to see his dear mama; and so, indeed, does little Emmy. When will you recall us all, dear Madam, or join us here ?" "Never, never!" exclaimed Lady T, "wringing her hands in agony, as she read the account, "I shall see them all no more. My |