Manners Volume Iii Part 3

To speak seriously, she found very great amus.e.m.e.nt in observing a national character, so dissimilar to any that had ever before fallen under her observation, and which presented itself with so many comical and so many amiable traits. In every individual she had met, there was something strongly characteristic, from Moll Kelly on the strand at Dunleary, to the proprietor of Bogberry Hall; and, with the exception of Mr. Donolan, who was spoiled in an attempt at refinement, warmth of feeling and good nature seemed to be the portion of each. In order to become better acquainted with this national character, which so much interested her, she determined, during her residence at Ballinamoyle, to visit the cottages in its neighbourhood, and to cultivate the acquaintance of her friend Jarge Quin, hoping to learn from him the peculiar customs and superst.i.tions of the country, while to the venerable Father Dermoody she applied for their explanation and origin.

She did not now feel quite so much at ease in referring for information to her former _cicerone_, Colonel Desmond, as she had done previous to their ambiguous conversation in his brother's drawing-room: but his guarded conduct the remainder of the evening tended much to destroy her first impression; and she felt the utmost confusion, whenever those few sentences came across her mind, accusing herself of the most egregious vanity in annexing a sense to his words that he did not mean to give them; and asking herself, time after time, whether he could have perceived her mistake. However, these unpleasant ideas soon wore away, and Colonel Desmond played the part of friend so well, that she convinced herself he had not understood her; and in a short time this circ.u.mstance, which made her at first feel so embarra.s.sed in his presence, was erased from her mind. And indeed he so dexterously availed himself of all the advantages he possessed to make his society agreeable to her, that she soon began to feel almost uncomfortable without it. He would talk to her of the scenes of her infancy; and she would then gratefully recollect the pains he had taken to teach her the English language, which she now felt of such essential advantage; and would sometimes remind him of the good-natured patience he had also shown, when he first condescended to accompany on the violin her childish performance of concertos and sonatas, and the remembrance of many an inveterately ill-timed pa.s.sage afforded them now considerable diversion.

There was one subject of the deepest interest, that he, and he alone, of all her a.s.sociates, was master of the virtues and talents of her father; and this, in her enthusiastic filial affection, and his regrets and admiration, was inexhaustible. At first Baron Wildenheim's name was but slightly glanced at; but by degrees she could bear to hear his sentiments and his words repeated, and her heart warmly thanked the man, who had so carefully treasured them in his. Colonel Desmond's humanity and fine feeling told him exactly where to stop. He would,

"When the soft tear stole silently down from the eye, Take no note of its course, nor detect the slow sigh;"

and the sympathy he showed in her affliction tended much to restore her mind to its wonted serenity, by gently drawing forth all those agonizing reflections and remembrances that had fled to hide themselves from human knowledge, to the most secret recesses of her heart. Under all these circ.u.mstances a penetrating observer would, perhaps, have p.r.o.nounced, that if Colonel Desmond steadily pursued his present plan, it would ultimately be crowned with success. At least it is contrary to all experience, that a young woman can long continue to feel _friends.h.i.+p alone_ for an unmarried man, who is in all things a lover, except in the declaration of his pa.s.sion;--nay, if there is no love on either side at first, it is highly probable there will be on both at no distant period, whenever a similarity of taste, ideas, and pursuits, induces a desire of a.s.sociation and intimacy, which circ.u.mstances permit to be gratified.

Every inexperienced female should be thoroughly aware of the high probability which exists of her bestowing her affections on the man with whom she is so situated.

The second evening after their return from Bogberry Hall, Mr.

O'Sullivan's guests were a.s.sembled at tea, when they heard the sound of music in the open air; and looking out, saw a gay groupe of young men and women dressed in their best, two fiddlers playing merrily before them, one of the party carrying a pole, on which were tied small hoops covered with garlands of flowers, intermixed with finery of various sorts, and gloves cut out in white and coloured papers; after them followed the elder members of their families, and, lastly, a crowd of children. The Miss Webberlys saw, with surprise, that not one of the females of the a.s.sembly had hat or bonnet. All the young women, except the queen of the garland, wore white round caps, ornamented with some gay riband; some had open gowns of a brilliant calico, others of white linen, with a stuff petticoat, blue, yellow, red, or green, according to the fancy of the wearer; white ap.r.o.ns, handkerchiefs, and stockings, completed their attire. Their showy dress, rosy complexions, and animated countenances, had altogether a most lively effect.

The dress of the old women was rather different. It consisted of a white mob cap, with a black silk handkerchief brought over the crown, crossed under the chin, and tied behind; a calico gown, with a large and gaudy pattern; and, in addition to the handkerchief and ap.r.o.n, a white dimity bed-gown, with short sleeves, and the skirt reaching half way to their knees; with a bright scarlet cloak hanging on one arm. All the men who were not dancers wore a great coat, of the peculiar frieze of their country. In the dress of the young men there was nothing remarkable, except that each had on a showy waistcoat, or silk handkerchief, to make him look as smart as his sweetheart in her gay gown and petticoat.

Adelaide was delightedly viewing the joyous scene, when she suddenly heard Colonel Desmond's voice returning Mrs. O'Sullivan's salutation, "It's midsummer's eve," said he, addressing her, "and I could not resist coming to witness your surprise at the curious customs observed here on this night." "I should think Miss Wildenheim wouldn't be such a fool as to go trapesing out on the damp gra.s.s with such a set of vagabonds,"

said Mr. Webberly, who was himself confined to the sofa. Colonel Desmond's attention was too much engrossed by the sweet smiles and tones, with which Adelaide thanked him for his kind recollection of her, to notice the morose look which accompanied this observation; and he acknowledged the speaker no otherwise than by a distant bow, as the fair object of his solicitude left the room to join the rest of the party at the hall door. The crowd had by this time ranged themselves in a semicircle, in the centre of which stood the king and queen of the garland, the former carrying the pole. The rustic queen was the handsomest young girl of the country--

"Health in her motion, the wild grace Of Pleasure speaking in her face."

Her head was crowned with a chaplet of flowers, whilst her long hair, which is highly prized in Ireland as a part of female beauty, flowed in profusion down her back, and its raven hue contrasted well with her snow-white linen gown. A sky-blue petticoat appeared under her ap.r.o.n in front, and from her girdle hung a wreath of flowers, forming a festoon of varied tints. The temporary king was the best dancer, wrestler, and cudgel-player, and the "tightest and clanest boy in all Ballinamoyle town land." On the right stood the fiddlers, playing Plansety O'Sullivan. When the venerable possessor of this name came forward to welcome the crowd, the united strength of all their lungs sent forth a heart-felt wish of "Long life to his honour, and G.o.d bless him, hurra!

hurra!" There is perhaps nothing more overcoming than the voice of a rejoicing mult.i.tude. The old man felt the present and the past, as he thought how his beloved Rose was hailed on such anniversaries; and whilst he made his bows of acknowledgement, the tear stood on his aged cheek. When silence was proclaimed, the village schoolmaster stepped forward, and presented him with a song he had written on his honour, and which "Brian Murdoch would make bould for to sing." Brian began with an "Och--" half a second in duration, and then proceeded as follows:--

In Connaught, my deer, Did you walk far and neer, At a poor man's requist, His honour's the best Of all in the land, of all in the land!

When poverty's near, He ne'er turns a dafe ear, But is free wid his store, Gives kind words galliore, Wid a bountiful hand, a bountiful hand!

Och!--Wheresomdiver he goes A blessing there flows, Like a beam of the sun Or the soft s.h.i.+ning moon, The joy of our heart, the joy of our heart!

Then long may he rain Widout sorrow or pane, And in Heaven be blist, When he takes his last rist, Tho' we to the heart rue the day he depart!

The intention of this composition was certainly better than the metre; but for once a poet did not flatter, for Mr. O'Sullivan exercised all the benevolence of his kind heart, in making his tenants happy; and they would in return, to use their own expression, have "gone through fire and water at the dead hour of the night, to sarve his honour. They had a good right to lay the hair of their head in under his feet."

Brian's performance was applauded and encored, and when it was over, there was a little murmur amongst the crowd as if to settle the next act. "Which is her?" asked the king of the garland. "Why, that beautiful lady to be sure, talking to the fat madam in the lavender blossom dress, with the borders all figured out in white," replied an ancient matron, who had been one of the first a.s.sembly at Ballinamoyle. The young man now walked up to Adelaide, and with a bow down to the ground, begged the honour of dancing with her; and she, perceiving it was a national custom, instantly complied; and hearing from Captain Cormac, who handed her to the spot she was to dance on, that the figure of the jig she was expected to perform, was that of a minuet danced quick, she went through it with a spirit and grace, that were unalloyed by any airs of exalted languor.

What! danced with an Irish peasant, and with spirit to! Look down, ye German Barons of sixteen quarters, and ye n.o.ble British Peers, on your descendant, and--behold her with pride! for she could be dignified without haughtiness, and complaisant without familiarity--perfectly understanding the art of adapting herself to her a.s.sociates, without thereby a.s.similating her manners or ideas to theirs; always preserving that elegance, which "was around her as light," giving to her performance of the trifles of every day intercourse a charm peculiarly her own, and which as invariably adorned her in the humblest cottage, as it would have done in the most brilliant court, dancing with this king of a rustic pageant, as with the Autocrat of all the Russias; and had she been one of those selected for that honour, she would perhaps, whilst she paid due homage to the rank of the Emperor, have no less forcibly impressed her august partner with the _dignity of the lady_.

However, the most scrupulous belle need not be much annoyed by the contamination she would suffer, by dancing with the king of the garland; for actuated by that respect, which the lower Irish so strongly feel for their superiors, he never presumes to take her hand, but contents himself with dancing opposite to her with all his might and main, at about three feet distance. Thus Adelaide's partner beat the batter on the ground, sprung, capered, hit the sole of his foot with his hand, danced the garland, beat the batter again, set, shuffled, and capered in turn. Every now and then there was clapping of hands, and "Well done, Lary, keep it up, keep it up!" and a murmur of approbation for Adelaide went round: "She's a beautiful cratur; and what kindly ways she has with her," said one. "The Lord love her little canny feet, how they do humour the music!" remarked another; and so on, till she made her curtsy when the jig was ended; and then there was a general shout of "Huzza! for the young lady and Lary for ever." "Arrah, whist wid your noisy tongues,"

said an old woman; "you'll trouble his honour, and mind him of Miss Rose. This day two and twenty year she danced on this very spot of ground, and the sarra lady has done the same since from that day till this. Do you see old Dennis there, Cisly?" continued she to her daughter: "Well, Miss Rose smiled so sweet, (I mind it as if it was but yesterday), and said, 'What a wonderful old man Dennis is, to be able to tire me in a dance, at sixty years of age! I hope he'll live to see many a midsummer's eve.' They say the prayers of them that's soon going to their long home is uncommon lucky; so she left these words for a blessing to ould Dennis, though she was too good to live herself." The old woman's caution was unnecessary--Mr. O'Sullivan had pleaded the damps of the evening and retired, but begged of Colonel Desmond to take his place, and keep the dancers as long as they afforded amus.e.m.e.nt, as his room was at so distant a part of the house, his _sleep_ would not be disturbed. "Alas, no!" thought his friend, "poor man, he will never cease to grieve for his angelic daughter, till she smiles on him once more in another world."

Colonel Desmond perceived there was a stop in the proceedings of the crowd, and recollected that it was customary for the master of the house, or some one in the place, to dance with the queen of the garland, and therefore requested Captain Cormac would do the honours the _etiquette_ of such occasions demanded. At another time he would have enjoyed doing so himself; but at this moment his head was too full of Rose and her father, to think of dancing--or even of Adelaide! Captain Cormac took the garland, as every man was bound to do, and flourished it about, and out-capered Lary himself; whilst his pretty partner, at stated times, cast her fine eyes on the ground, and was swung round by him with averted head, then danced boldly up with one arm akimbo, alternately took the garland, followed, or was chased by him. Little Caroline was wild with spirits, when the crowd, finding out their mistake with regard to Adelaide, raised her on a stout man's shoulders, and pressed round to shake hands with her in turn, while she received their greetings with the utmost cordiality; and, when let down again, she danced and capered about, as Jarge Quin said, "as merry and as pretty as the little people trip it on the blossoms on May morning."

Mr. Webberly had by this time nearly recovered from the ill humour the sight of Colonel Desmond had put him into, and had been wheeled in a large chair to the window, for the double purpose of viewing the festive scene, and watching the proceedings of Adelaide. He was evidently in pain either of body or mind, and looked so mournful, so deserted, that she could not resist the impulse of compa.s.sion, and addressed to him, from time to time, some casual remark on the groupe before them. For many months she had not voluntarily spoken so much to him; and as Colonel Desmond observed his satisfaction, some painful reflections crossed his mind: "He deceives himself," thought he, "and so do I--she has no love for me either. I ought to tear myself from her; yet a faint heart never won a fair lady, and I see as little cause to despair as to hope." But with an inconsistency, that the agitation of his feelings alone could account for, he whispered to Adelaide, "Be more stern, and you will be more humane; your heavenly sweetness undoes your victim."

She looked up surprised, and read that in his countenance, which immediately gave to hers a degree of gravity which he had never before seen her features wear; and bowing slightly in answer, addressed herself to Mrs. O'Sullivan. He soon found an opportunity of speaking to her again: "Adelaide," said he, sorrowfully, "you are offended; are you like all the rest of the world, capricious and fickle? Do you _reject_ the friend of your infancy?" "Colonel Desmond," said she calmly, "I must be frank--infancy does not last forever, '_altri tempi, altre maniere_.'"

In these few words she had spoken volumes. To recover himself, he talked sentiment and science to the two Miss Webberlys, and in doing so, heard and made such a display of _esprit_, that it soon deadened his feelings, and in a few minutes he _appeared_ as much at ease as ever.

In the mean time the merry rustics performed Quaker minuets, which consist of a mixture of quick and slow movements, a sort of strathspey called petticoatties, and some well executed handkerchief dances, the figures of which are of the same kind as the shawl-dances of the opera, and admit six or eight at pleasure. It is surprising with what a degree of natural dexterity and vivacity the lower Irish dance: Adelaide thought, "If Horace had been an Irishman, he would not have described the dancing of the Nymphs and Graces in the spiritless manner he has done:--

"Jam Cytherea choros ducit Venus, imminente Luna, Junctaeque Nymphis Gratiae decentes, Alterno terram quatiunt pede.[7]"

[Footnote 7: Literally nearly thus:

Now beneath the beaming moon, Cytherean Venus leads forth the band. The decent Graces, joined by the Nymphs, strike the earth with alternate foot.]

But profiting by Mrs. Temple's hint, she never now said any thing that might lead to the supposition of her being a "learned lady;" at the same time, she heartily joined in the praises, which even Mrs. O'Sullivan and her daughters bestowed on the groupe before them. "It is not all pure nature, however," said Colonel Desmond; "itinerant dancing-masters go about the country, and there is no lad or la.s.s so poor, that once in their lives, at least, can't afford half a crown for the benefit of their education in this particular. They all gather together in some waste building, or on the level turf; and the scenes that take place in these a.s.semblies are ludicrous beyond description. It is said, that one of our Connaught Vestrises found it necessary, to tie a straw rope about the right leg of his pupils, calling it suggar, and the other gad; and that he used to sing this rhyme to a tune that marks the time inimitably, beating it all the time with his foot: only conceive the bodily and mental labour of such a task!

"'Out with your suggar, my girl, Right fal la fal la di dy, Then the gad you must twirl, Right fal la, &c.

Shuffle your suggar and gad, Right fal la, &c.

Then you must set to the lad, Right fal la, &c.'

"It is not surprising," continued he, "that some such contrivance should sometimes be necessary on our Irish mountains, when the Scripture informs us, that a hundred and twenty thousand Ninevese could not discern between their right hand and their left." Adelaide was much entertained by this allusion. And here let us advise those, who regret any accidental coldness that may have arisen with a friend, if they have drollery enough in their composition, to make him or her laugh by all means. It is the surest way in the world to restore familiarity of manner; for we cannot look suddenly cross at the person, who has, in spite of our best endeavours at sullenness, excited the unwilling smile.

Those who are "too dull for a wit, too grave for a joker," may try the pathetic; and if they can draw forth sympathetic tears at any horrible story, it will answer the purpose nearly as well, though our experience certainly inclines to the former method.

Whilst the smile yet played on Adelaide's countenance, old Dennis walked up to her, and said, with a look where pleasure and regret strove for preeminence, "Faith, Miss dear, when I see your teeth as white as the water-lily, and your eyes dancing like the sunbeams on the lake, ye mind me of Miss Rose; you're the sauciest lady I've seen since she parted us, when she was in her fifteenth! The sweetest Rose was she in all Ireland, and the like will ne'er bloom again in Ballinamoyle."

Adelaide graciously received the old man's compliment; and her eyes filled with tears, as she said to Colonel Desmond, "How much I feel interested for this Rose! She must have been most amiable, to be so long loved and remembered by these grateful people." "She was indeed,"

replied he, "one of those beings, that would lead a fanciful imagination to suppose, they had nearly arrived at perfection in some pre-existent state, and had been sent on earth, for a short s.p.a.ce, to complete their probation, and show what a superior nature might be, even clogged with our corporeal infirmities. Mr. O'Sullivan never breathes his daughter's name, nor is it ever mentioned before him, except by nurse, whom it is impossible to restrain. His life has pa.s.sed away so monotonously, that it seems but as yesterday since he lost her, and she now rises again forcibly to the remembrance of the elder inhabitants of this neighbourhood, from the circ.u.mstance of Caroline O'Sullivan being brought, as it were, to take her place; which, I a.s.sure you, they consider as a sort of sacrilegious usurpation, and feel no small indignation at her having been born in England. Poor Rose! hers was a fatal marriage!--But this is not a fit time to sadden you with the details of her melancholy story."

It was now dark, and some of the dancers came forward to receive the customary donations, after which they proceeded in a body elsewhere.

They were in the act of setting up their last "hurra!" when, as if by appointed signal, all the hills were instantly illuminated with innumerable fires. In the distance blazed the altar of the sun, like a pyramid of light; the nearer flames were reflected in the still waters of the lake. Every island was gay with moving figures and bonfires.

Within the s.p.a.cious walls of the old castle in the centre islet was the largest of all, which was seen brightly beaming through the arched windows and dilapidated walls, while round it a groupe of merry boys and girls were dancing; and a sudden blaze showed here and there similar circles on every hill. Rejoicing voices rose and fell on the gales of night, which also conveyed, from time to time, the music of various instruments. "I never beheld so beautiful a scene," said Adelaide; "what is the origin of this custom?" "It descends to us from our pagan ancestry," replied Colonel Desmond, "who on this evening offered sacrifices to the sun on every hill. A similar custom was observed on the first of May and on the last of October, on which night we keep up the same ceremonies, which Burns has so beautifully described in his 'Hallow E'en.' At this moment the whole of this island is gay with garlands, and dancing, and music; and her numerous population are poured forth on every hill in their best attire, accompanied by mirth and glee, leaving all their cares behind them at their cottage doors." "I hope,"

said Caroline, "the fires in the castle won't hurt the little fairies Jarge Quin told us of, Adele; I dare say they ran in a great hurry up the walls; or may be the lake is covered with their tiny boats to take them away. When I live here, I never will let a single cobweb be swept."

"Why, my dear child, have you so suddenly fallen in love with the spider tribe, as well as the fairies?" "Oh, nurse says they steal in at night through the keyhole, to take the cobwebs to make sails of them; and, when the wind blows them off, they stick to the trees and every thing, and they are twice as good for cuts as those in the house. I have been gathering a whole heap of them to take to England. Oh, Adele! I wish you would come and hear the beautiful stories nurse tells about kings, and queens, and giants. She puts her spectacles on her nose, and reads all morning out of a book she calls the 'Rabby Night's Intertinmant.' I run down to her every night before I go to bed, and she takes me on her knee, and tells it to me, and gives me cakes. Sometimes she cries when I kiss her, and then she talks to me of my _dear_ papa, what a fine young gentleman he was before he went to be a soldier. I'll marry a soldier when I grow big. I think nurse and uncle love me better than any body but you, Adele." It was in vain that Caroline's best beloved endeavoured, in a low voice, to a.s.sure her of the warmth of her mother's and sister's affection; she said little in reply, but felt all the pain of being convinced against her will.

The party, when tired of admiring the admirable night scene the surrounding country presented, retired to the house; and by this time the rustic a.s.sembly had repaired to an empty barn, where they danced till sunrise, and then went out to make hay.

CHAPTER VIII.

Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave.

oeCYMBELINE.oe

The remainder of the month of June and July pa.s.sed at Ballinamoyle in various degrees of pleasure or tedium to its unusual inmates. Mrs.

O'Sullivan and her three elder children saw the time originally fixed for their departure approach, with almost undissembled pleasure.

Notwithstanding the anxious endeavours of their host and his circle, to show them the utmost respect and kindness, and to procure them every amus.e.m.e.nt within their reach, nothing pleased, nothing interested them; but if they could find little to admire in England beyond Hyde Park Corner, could they be expected to tolerate Irish barbarism? They a.s.sociated much with the Desmond family; but, though this circ.u.mstance saved them many hours of _ennui_, it gave them none of real enjoyment.

The Miss Webberlys saw Melicent's natural graces with too much contempt to envy them, and for once they a.s.sociated with a lovely girl without being tormented by this pa.s.sion. But her father and uncle they little short of hated; the one for his successful raillery, the other for his admiration of Adelaide; which circ.u.mstance rendered the latter equally obnoxious to their brother, who attributed to him the bad success of his suit to Miss Wildenheim, still more than to his sprained ancle, which had kept him a close prisoner, and enabled her effectually to shun his society. At home--Mr. O'Sullivan was dismal, Miss Fitzcarril insufferably proud; a Catholic priest was of course an object of illiberal aversion; and of all their a.s.sociates, young Donolan was the only individual who found favour in their sight; but he had, by his heartless gallantries and fulsome flattery, ingratiated himself so much with both sisters, that he was a source of constant bickering between them.

They therefore so plagued and prejudiced their weak mother, that she was as much out of humour as themselves. She and Miss Fitzcarril almost quarrelled, though the one was nearly as anxious to court the cousin, as the other to win the son; and the ridiculous pride of ancestry in the spinster kept pace with the narrow-minded pride of riches in the matron.

Mrs. O'Sullivan and her amiable children vented all their ill humour on their servants, who, in revenge, quarrelled with the domestics of the house, and expressed their own and their superiors' contempt of every person and thing they saw, without reserve. All this Miss Fitzcarril was mean enough to suffer to be repeated to her with those additional charges scandal-mongers are certain to lay on their retail goods; and she came sometimes full primed with rage from the kitchen, ready to discharge her fire-arms in the parlour, which would not unfrequently have happened, had not Adelaide dexterously managed to unload the offensive weapon.

Miss Fitzcarril found the amenity of her manners as invariable as the benignity of her heart. She would, boiling with pa.s.sion, confide to her friendly ear some tale of horror she had been told by nurse, or the cook, the housemaid, or Black Frank himself; and always heard, in return, some extenuation of the offence, or expression of sorrow that purchased its forgiveness.

Mr. O'Sullivan's guests did not venture to treat him with disrespect, nor Miss Fitzcarril to annoy him with the recital of her various _brouilleries_; his uniformly dignified deportment preserved him from both: yet Mr. Webberly and his sisters he disliked for their airs of affected superiority to others; and had Caroline depended on her _mother's_ powers of pleasing, to obtain her uncle's estate, her claims would not have met with much success. An Irish country gentleman, however unpolished he may be himself, is to an extreme fastidious in his ideas of female gentility. Every one has a code of his own, which he thinks it necessary a woman should follow, to be what he calls "_ladylike_." His punctilios are frequently unreasonable, and excessively troublesome to the female relatives, who are obliged to conform to them; but the warm affection, from which they derive so much happiness, is also the source of that pride they sometimes find so annoying. A writer of eminence has clearly shown the difference between _rusticity_ and _vulgarity_. Many an unpolished rustic girl Mr.

O'Sullivan might think _ladylike_: but a vulgar woman, such as his sister-in-law, was perhaps the object in the world the most disgusting to him; and it required all his good-nature, and all his hospitality, to make him conquer his involuntary repugnance sufficiently to treat her with the kindness due to his brother's widow. Though Maurice O'Sullivan had been only his step-brother by their father's marriage, very late in life, and there was twenty years' difference in their ages, he had always felt for him even more than the usual warmth of fraternal affection; and had, for a long series of years, been bountiful to him in a degree that but encouraged his extravagant dissipation; till the elder brother, at last provoked by his career of folly, finally discharged his debts, on condition of the entail being cut off, to enable him to bestow the family estate on some more worthy member of it. But the grave had now closed on all the faults of Maurice's character, whilst memory exaggerated all its virtues; and O'Sullivan would frequently contrast Caroline with her mother, saying in the pride of his heart, "How much of the _father_ she has in her! She shows good blood runs in her veins."

To Adelaide Mr. O'Sullivan was unconsciously as kind as to Caroline.

Before she had been many days in his house, he had made up his mind that she was "_quite the lady_," and of course possessed of every good quality necessarily consequent on that, in his mind, highly valued character. Besides he was much gratified by her inclination to be pleased with every thing that was worthy of commendation in his place, and in his country generally; and with the proper feeling and good breeding, which restrained her from wounding his pride by those offensive remarks he constantly heard from his sister-in-law and her elder children, which however were at least equalled by those of Mr.

Donolan. Adelaide had moreover a strong claim on his grat.i.tude for the kindness she showed to his niece. Caroline's father had lavished on her the most unlimited fondness, whilst her mother treated her with comparative coldness. Had she been left to herself, there is no doubt she would have felt the same love for her as for her other children; but she was unfortunately entirely guided by the Miss Webberlys. Cecilia she loved, and Amelia she also feared; and they contrived to alienate her affection from Caroline, whom they considered as an intruder, who would unjustly deprive them of a part of their lawful inheritance. It is not surprising, therefore, that Adelaide, mourning for the loss of a fond father, should see in Caroline a fellow-sufferer, and should bestow her affections on the only object around her that would receive or return them. The child, repulsed by every body else, flew into her open arms, and loved her with the most doting fondness. She could not bear now to lose sight of her, was the first that entered her room in the morning, and when she was busy, would sit for hours at her side, occupied in any employment Adelaide charitably provided for her. This little girl had naturally a fine understanding, which her friend's judicious management prevented running to waste. It was now with the utmost pain that friend thought of their approaching separation on her return to England; and this idea gave an increased tenderness to her looks, when she gazed with regret on the lovely child, and antic.i.p.ated the probable blight of the fair promise, internally adding, "Alas! I may not venture to love any one; it is my fate to be torn from all my heart has ever cherished!" In consequence of this reciprocal attachment, every one a.s.sociated Adelaide and Caroline in idea together; those who loved the one loved the other, and their united attractions gained them the good-will of every individual at Ballinamoyle.

But with none of its inmates was the former a greater favourite than with the venerable Father Dermoody: her manners to him were expressive of that deference she had been accustomed to see the Catholic clergy treated with abroad, and she willingly granted that respect, which the impressive, though mild sanct.i.ty of his deportment extorted from others; and when he saw once more under Mr. O'Sullivan's roof a young and lovely female all sweetness and intellect, he thought of his beloved pupil, Rose, and sometimes looked at Adelaide, till he fancied he traced a strong resemblance to her who had been the adopted child of his heart--his only earthly pride! He loved to converse with Adelaide as to the recent state of countries, he had visited in his youth, and he still more delightedly answered her inquiries regarding the history or customs of Ireland, or the antiquities the neighbouring country abounded with, to visit which, Mr. O'Sullivan had induced his guests to make many excursions, as one of the best means of amusing their time. To ill.u.s.trate these remains, Father Dermoody produced from his patron's library many a musty ma.n.u.script and fabulous legend of ancient fame, which he read and explained to Adelaide, with an enthusiastic admiration that was delightful to her to behold; though she was sometimes almost tempted to smile at the excess of his patriotic credulity; for there is scarcely any thing on the subject of national glory too extravagant for ancient Irish ma.n.u.scripts to a.s.sert, or for modern Irish feeling to believe. Adelaide and her venerable friend went one morning to the above-mentioned library, in search of a work relative to "Conaro the turbulent and swift footed," whose tomb at the foot of the altar of the sun they had lately visited. They long looked for the precious relick in vain, but at last Mr. Dermoody descried it on the very top shelf; it was out of his reach, but by the help of a number of boxes piled on one of the heavy old mahogany chairs, Adelaide possessed herself of the treasure, and was preparing to descend, when she heard a gentleman's voice and step in the pa.s.sage leading to the room. This made her prefer the quickest method of reaching _terra firma_, and she instantly leaped into the middle of the floor; and Colonel Desmond entering at the same instant, exclaimed, "Inimitable, by Jove! Why, Miss Wildenheim, if the princ.i.p.al _sauteuse_ of the Parisian opera had seen that graceful flight, she would, through all her rouge, have turned pale with envy. I should think you must find that preliminary much the pleasantest part of the proceedings attendant on the studies those loaded tables tell me you have lately been engaged in." "I hope," said Adelaide, laughing and blus.h.i.+ng at his raillery, "you, as a true Milesian, are not inclined to slight their contents?" "Except to you, my revered friend," rejoined he, addressing himself to the priest, "who have charity to forgive even greater offences, I never dare own what a capacity of unbelief I have on such subjects; but, Miss Wildenheim," he continued, "I am at this moment much more anxious to hear what you think of the modern Irish, than to dive into the best accredited accounts of our ancient history. Come, confess to this worthy father--did you not expect to find us a set of demisavages, for whom you could feel little else but disgust?" "I am more than half affronted," replied Adelaide, "that you could possibly suppose me to be so illiberal." "And with justice," replied the priest; "wherever the human form is seen, there, I am sure, you find objects to love and reverence;--the Supreme has impressed on every being he has created some marks of his majesty and goodness." "Yes, my dear sir,"

rejoined his youthful auditor; "but the proud heart of man draws a line of circ.u.mvallation round the cities he has erected, within which he confines every thing that is admirable in the human race. Surely we should rather imitate the liberality of the ancient poets, who peopled every hill and dale with superior natures." "You must however acknowledge," said Colonel Desmond, "that those cla.s.sic favourites of yours never imagined any thing half so beautiful as our northern fairies! I don't know which of those ill-behaved scolds, the G.o.ddesses, it would not be an affront to compare a modern _elegante_ to; and pray what are all the accomplishments of Minerva, the best amongst them, to those of a girl of fas.h.i.+on, unless indeed she could plume herself on speaking Greek, in the style of the simpleton who was lost in admiration at the acquirements of the Gallic ladies, who could all converse in French with so much fluency? But the pure, elegant Queen of Fairies is the very prototype of female loveliness! I suffer considerable uneasiness on your account, Miss Wildenheim," continued he, with much gravity. "On my account, Colonel Desmond?" "Yes; for I am informed by those most in her majesty's confidence, that, 'when to the banks of the dark rolling Danube fair Adela hied,' she was seen by some of the fairy court; and that very evening, 'late, late in the gloamin, Hillmerry came hame,' being thought insipid in comparison of the more charming Adela.