window; but Harclai, too eager to consider the niceties of decorum, came close to him, and though he did not actually look over his letter, watched every turn of his countenance while he was reading it. The argu ments of Lady Eleanor founded upon what she had heard, were soon passed over; but the letter closed with a few words from Constance herself, which seemed to rob the Hybla bees, and leave them honeyless. She told him sweetly how much she felt the generosity of his purpose in her favour; but, still more sweetly, hoped that he would be obliged to renounce it. If really these estates are not mine, and must be adjudged to you, or Lord Cleveland, need I say," added the postscript, "who has my wishes?" "My cousin acts like the disinterested angel she is," exclaimed De Vere, when he had finished reading the postscript, for the third time. "But that is the contrary of a reason why I should enlist myself against her." "If ever there was an angelic mind," said Lord Clanellan, "it is hers. But give me leave to say, that this is no question of generosity, either on her part or yours. You have neither of you the right to be generous, till the law has determined who has the power of being so." 66 Right!" observed Harclai, overjoyed at finding the marquess so entirely with him. De Vere shook his head, still thinking of his postscript. "You will, however, allow me to ask," continued the marquess, "of what materials you think Lady Constance composed, that, on the supposition that the estates are really and lawfully either yours or Lord Cleveland's, she can submit to receive them from either of you, as a gift? For such it would be, if they were only left with her by sufferance." Harclai declared this was a staggerer, and there was no getting over it; "and I am glad,' "added he, "to find the girl is as proud as yourself." De Vere gave him a look of reprehension at the free dom of the epithet he had used; which, under the ascendancy which De Vere had just acquired over him, told as he would have it, for it made him actually retreat. The marquess went on: "I could enlarge much upon this subject of pride between you, but the case really does not need it. I am sorry to be forced to think, from all the advice I have lately had, that my ward's title hangs by too slight a thread, to be even benefited by your chivalrous intentions in her favour." "Attribute nothing to me that is not my due," replied De Vere. "Were the estates really mine in justice, I would not do my cousin that wrong, I would not dare to shock her nobleness, by presuming to offer her an elecmosynary present. Were I a sovereign, I might lay provinces at her feet; as a mere equal, or rather as the inferior being I am, presumption indeed would it be in me to pretend to be the benefactor of Lady Constance. But were the Lady Constance as inferior to me as I am to her, and I found that I had power to wrong her, through the mere ambiguity of the law, need I say, marquess, that I would not, could not profit by such ambiguity?" "Nobly spoken," said the marquess, "and worthy of the high-minded man and woman who gave you birth. I indeed seem to hear my gallant and lamented friend the general, in these sentiments. But would you engross all generosity and justice, nor allow others to be either generous or just? In particular, would you prohibit one who is as near to you in character, as in blood, from partaking of these sentiments?" "Heaven forbid!" cried Mortimer, "for with Lady Constance, I do not enter even into competition. What I mean is, that I would not profit by chicanery, to gain, not merely fortune, but he stopped. "I would ask you to proceed," said the marquess, "but that really the word you have used is misplaced. Lady Constance's own counsel tells me, not only that he despairs of success, but that he ought not to succeed. For your ancestor's intentions are clear, and the chicanery would be on our side. May not therefore the up right Constance be equally shocked at the thought of profitting by such wrong? But when we add to this, that your refusal to appear, far from benefiting her, will probably throw this whole inheritance into the hands of another, (who certainly does not seem to stop. at chicanery ;) when we are told that in the event that we have no title, and you do not come forward, the alternative is Lord Cleveland, I trust I have said enough. to bend you from a purpose which I verily believe is only so obstinate, because it is so honourable." De Vere felt himself moved; and Harclai, whose attention had been fixed by all this in a manner to make his solemn features whimsically cheerful, could not refrain from advancing towards Lord Clanellan, as if he meant to embrace him. He contented himself, however, with shaking his hand almost off, and exclaiming at every twist he gave, Marquess, you have won my heart for ever." 66 De Vere, thoughtful, reflective, uneasy, and shaken, at length said he would so far yield himself to the rea soning of Lord Clanellan, that he would study the law opinions which had been given on the various claims. These he had scarcely yet allowed himself to peruse, satisfied that Lord Mowbray had been the uncontrolled owner of the estates, and that his cousin was not only his sole legatee, but his rightful heir at law. He was now, however, ready to give a more unprejudiced attention to these opinions, especially as he was alive to the deciding argument of the marquess, that, if he did not appear, his ward's case could not stand under the settlement, in comparison with Lord Cleveland's. Harclai, delighted, immediately pulled out of a large letter-case, two or three folio papers which the old gentleman had drawn up in concert with his lawyers in town, but which De Vere had utterly refused to inspect. To these, the marquess added the letters of Lady Constance's own counsel; and some hours were now dedicated, in the closet of De Vere, to the consideration of the most important question which had ever in his life demanded his decision. The result was an immediate journey to London, VOL. III. 16 and many conferences with the counsel, whose opinion Harclai had taken, and who, being of the first eminence at the bar, succeeded at last in proving to De Vere, that, though he might sacrifice himself to Lord Cleveland, it would produce no benefit to the case of Lady Constance. CHAPTER XXIII. CONSCIOUSNESS. I have mark'd A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face; a thousand innocent shames, SHAKSPEARE. THE horn had sounded loud and shrill up the steep of Castle Mowbray, as the post advanced along the avenue that approached it at bottom. Constance and her aunt were at that moment upon the terrace, and each looked with anxiety for expected intelligence. "My cousin," said Constance, "will surely have decided by this time. Strange! that so clear an understanding should allow him to be so proud!" "Do not let us blame him," said Lady Eleanor, "should he be in error, if he err on the right side." 66 Surely it cannot be right," replied Constance, “to sacrifice himself to Lord Cleveland." "You forget your own rights, dear Constance." "No, indeed," answered Constance, "I only have done thinking of them, because every body says they are no rights at all." "And are you so indifferent?” "Alas! no! far from indifferent, for I wish this hill were not so steep, that you might have the letter which that unconscious little wretch is bringing you so slowly." Now, the unconscious little wretch whom Constance thus abused, was forcing his poor jade to strain her veins to get up the hill the quicker, from seeing he was waited for by the ladies of the castle, and a minute or two placed the expected packet in Lady Eleanor's hands. "It is astonishing," said her son, "what a sensation these concerns of ours have occasioned in both the law and other circles here. It is only to be equalled by the extraordinary ignorance which prevails on many of the facts. By many, I am represented (that ever such horror should be promulgated!) as seeking to enrich myself through the ambiguities of law, at the expense of one, in defence of whose rights you know I would expend my own last shilling. "What a world is this, when truth can be so violated, and honour so sported with! Much as Lord Clanellan's account of the law opinions is confirmed against the interests of that dear one, whom it cuts me to pieces to seem to oppose, sooner would I suffer such destruction than submit to such degradation in the public mind. There are moments when I would hide myself in Siberia, rather than, by obeying the citation, encourage such a notion. But the alternative is too revolting. While Lady Constance's counsel exhibit any thing but confidence, the opinion of all the others is, that if we recede, Cleveland must prevail-Cleveland, who has succeeded in persuading the world, that a mere well-born beggar is seeking to better his fortunes at the expense of his family. "I grieve to tell you, mother, how all this affects me. You may judge of it by your own feeling, and your remembrance of that clear spirit from which you are separated. But the argument of Lord Clanellan (to say nothing of Harclai, who is here) is unanswerable. However jealous you may be of your own honour, say they, however anxious for another's rights, if the first can be cleared by the mere truth, and the last must be sacrificed to an unprincipled invader, unless you appear, are you to quit the field when flight would only prove the more certain destruction of the |