wrong,) and afterwards her judgment, nay, her very pride itself, combined to make her tremble on the threshold, at entering on such a career. There was nothing she thought so little a woman's province as party; and she looked with little reverence on the busy exertion of a young and beautiful peeress, who with the highest attraction, and all the seeming qualities of a good wife and mother, as De Vere once observed, unsexed herself by becoming the focus of political rage and intrigue. In her feelings upon this point, she had been confirmed by her prudent friend, Lady Clanellan; and she had for some time, on this, as well as almost every other account, wished for the summer to close upon a way of life for which the more she saw of it, she felt less and less fitted. For all these reasons, therefore, though anxious to sooth her father's distress, she was never less disposed to enter into the causes that had produced it; and, but that the afflicted statesman was her father, she would have laughed outright at the anecdote, on which his affliction was principally founded. She was staggered, however, by the authority of Lord Oldcastle, and began to wonder at these lords of the destinies of nations, who seemed to hold their own destiny by so poor a thread that a child might break it. Her excellent judgment, young as she was, had full room for exercise, and she could not help confessing that ambition, as she saw it, was a very different thing from what the generous but inexperienced flight of her mind had taught her to believe. It was, equally with the luxury and splendour in which she had lately lived, inadequate to all she had hoped for, on taking, as she was told she was to do, possession of the world. "But where then," said she, when her conference with her father broke up, and she retired to her closet, -"where is happiness really to be found?" The thought engaged her in a long contemplation of what she called the nothings that had absorbed her attention for so many months, and her little pleasure in these led her to Castle Mowbray, whence she began to wish she had never stirred. But Castle Mowbray was not to her what it had been during the summer; and, with every seeming blessing upon earth, this young favourite of nature as well as of fortune was any thing but happy. CHAPTER XXXIII. DEPARTURE. What envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east! SHAKSPEARE. COULD De Vere have penetrated his cousin's mind, during the hours consequent to his last interview with her, it might probably have relieved his own from some of the weight which oppressed it in the moment of his leaving London with Mr. Wentworth. He would not, perhaps, have found there the species of feeling which might have determined his own heart what to wish, or how to act: but he would have seen that the person who he thought had begun to listen to the flatteries of the world, was as pure as ever in her nature, and as free as ever from the tainting effect of those flatteries. The contrary opinion, however, had got a little, a very little, hold of him, and as his post-chaise drove through Grosvenor-square before five in the morning, and he looked up at the close-shuttered windows of her chamber, he felt an unaccountable heaviness from the mixed nature of his reflections. She was then, he thought, in slumber, jaded perhaps with the vigil of some nightly ball, where all the incense of the state had been offered her, and her only embarrassment had been to decide which pleasure she should most enjoy, or on what candidate for her favour she should bestow most of her notice. At any rate, he supposed her indifferent to any feelings that might be entertained for her by himself; and although he felt a sort of pang at the thought that it would be long before he saw that house, or its lovely inhabitant again, (if indeed he might not be taking his last view of it,) yet he could not forget his uncle's moroseness, or the insensibility with which she herself had seemed to part with him. With these impressions, it was with little alacrity of heart that he lost sight of Mowbray House; and though Wentworth was by his side, he threw himself back in the carriage, and drawing his hat over his eyes, neither gentleman spoke a word to the other for many minutes. Their meditations certainly were not disturbed by any thing from without; for though all was light throughout the vast city, every thing seemed buried in silence and solitude. The repose reminded one of abandoned Rome when entered by Brennus and his Gauls, so deep and motionless was it, even at an hour when Nature had begun to assume all her gladness with the rising of the sun. This contrast, which often exists between the cheerful appearance of inanimate objects and the deep rest of man, is, to a contemplative person, always full of interest; nor, perhaps, of all the scenes on which such a person loves to fasten, is there one more pregnant with philosophic food than this, the exhibition of a great city at the dawn of day. The myriads which it is known to contain, and is soon to pour forth, are then invisible to the eye, and houses, teeming with life, appear abandoned and desolate. At best they are buried in peaceful forgetfulness, from which it seems almost a pity to rouse them. How many thousands of those who were thus lost in happy oblivion, were soon to awake to care, to doubt, to struggle, or to certain affliction! Many, however, to joy; though neither De Vere nor his companion made these last any part of the visions they indulged; yet with other feelings than those which preyed upon each, the softness of the morning, and the journey before them, might have created very different. sensations.* * The modern reader, in the foregoing description of the early dawn in London, may recollect something of the same cast in the novel of Granby; only (as I am most willing to allow it is better executed in that lively and very agreeable picture of the manners of the day. Nevertheless, as the tone of sentiment is somewhat dif The sun had been up above an hour, but was now tempered by clouds which had just shed the blessing of a gentle rain on the earth, enough (and no more) to allay heat, and turn every thing to freshness. But the busy dwellers of Whitehall were still steeped in sleep, save, now and then, where an earlier stirrer than the rest had opened his window aloft, to inhale the air. On advancing, however, towards Parliament-street, symptoms of bustle and watchfulness displayed themselves. At first a desultory straggler was seen, with jaded step and night worn looks, creeping like snail (though with any thing but shining morning face) towards that ominous place of combat, where the fate of nations was often decided, and might be then deciding. Another and another still succeeded, till, at length, whole groupes, by threes and fours at a time, swept the pavement, arm in arm, hurrying faster and faster, in the apprehension of being too late for the question, or anxious with mutual fear at the sight of each other's strength. These had all been summoned to vote from their respective clubs, where, tired of a ten-hour's debate, they had sought a temporary and feverish refuge. Dim as were their eyes, and furrowed their temples with watching, their countenances still gleamed with what agitated them within; and hope, and doubt, and anxious calculation, and (with many, let us cordially add) real patriotism, excited them all by turns; and this gave a momentary ardour to their spirits, and an accelerating impulse to their steps. It was a sight which neither Wentworth, nor, indeed, De Vere, could view without emotion. The former saw many of his friends and many of his opponents, as the carriage rolled past them. Amongst these was Clayton, whose quick but solitary pace, and disconcerted air, rather surprised them. He had, in fact, been dispatched to bring up a detachment of hesitating, though general supporters of Lord Oldcastle; had met with a cold reception from a knot of county members; and was, in truth, ruminating on the coarseness and ingratitude too, of country gentlemen, when, with ir. ferent, and as it introduces a different course of action, I am content to let this description stand. regular step, and face full of care, he was thus seen hurrying to his patrons with apprehensions of something little short of mutiny. Both the friends observed the phenomenon, and Mr. Wentworth argued from it, that all was not well with the ministerial party. This, with the eventful discussion which was pending, and his possible power of influencing it, but, above all, the proximity of the scene, staggered his resolution. His hand was several times on the glass, to order the postilion to stop, and his heart beat high at the thought of gallant encounter; when the weakness of his chest, and the solemn promise he had given to Wilmot (of which De Vere forcibly reminded him,) turned him from his design, and he too threw himself back in the carriage, that he might not be noticed either by the former companions of his glory, or the rivals of his power. Having at length escaped by driving over Westminster-bridge, he could not help stretching through the window, to take a view of the House, which reared itself in placid and quiet dignity to the gray morning, unconscious (and it seemed almost strange that it should be so) of the agitating scene that was passing within. For Wentworth was but right in supposing that at this moment the doors were closed, and the speaker engaged in the act of putting the question. The thought so got the better of him, that, had he not been a little ashamed of his eagerness, he would have confessed then (what he did afterwards,) that though absolutely out of hearing of the House, he mistook the hailing of some distant watermen across the river, for the well known sounds of Ay and No! Such, and so great, on particular subjects, is the power of habitual excitement and local association. The thought of all that was passing, expanded itself upon his fancy in a variety of images. He recollected all that had happened in this the scene of his exertions, from the first moment he had entered upon it: the consequence he had achieved; his increased and increasing reputation; his early accession to power; his abandonment of it afterwards; the acquisition and desertion of friends; but, above all, the ill-usage and unhappy fate of |