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on a visit to them we will extract, for we think it as lively as any part of the book. In the narrative of an expedition which Mr. and Mrs. Jones had made to the highlands, some mention was made of the herrings, which are caught in Loch Lomond.
6 Kate,' said Mr. Jones, setting down his tea-cup, and settling his hands upon his knees, ' you know I think you're
wrong about them herrings.' "Mr. Jones,' returned the la“dy, with a look that shewed that the herrings had been the
subject of former altercation, for certain the waiter told “ me that they came out of the loch, and to what purpose « should he tell lies about it?' I tells you, Kate, that her.
rings come out of the sea,' said Mr. Jones. "Well, that « loch is a great fresh-water sea,' said Mrs. Jones. Out of “the salt sea,' insisted Mr. Jones. “Ay,' said Mrs. Jones, «them salt herrings as we gets here, but it stands to reason, « Mr. Jones, that the fresh herrings should come out of fresh of water,' I say, cod is fresh, and does'nt it come out of the
.answer me that, Mrs. Jones. It is no wonder the u cod is fresh,' returned the lady, 'when the fishmongers keep « fresh water running on it day and night.' Kate, it's of no “ use argufying, I say herrings come out of the sea. What “ say you, Sirp turning to Captain Montreville. The Cap“ tain softened his verdict in the gentleman's favor, by say6 ing, that Mrs. Jones was right in her account of the waiter's « report, though the man, in speaking of the loch,' meant 6 not Loch-Lomond, but an arm of the sea. I know'd it, “ said Mr. Jones, triumphantly, for haven't I read it in the
newspaper as Government offers a reward to any body that'll “put most salt upon them Scotch herrings, and isn't that what “ makes the salt so dear?' So having settled this knotty point “ to his own satisfaction, Mr. Jones again applied himself to « his tea.”
The person to whom the money for the annuity had been paid was dead; his heir, Mr. Warren, was a fop, and a man of pleasure; and having seen Laura, he formed designs respecting her which were quite in character. Warren, pretending a commission from her father, whom he had drawn from the house by a promise of settling his business, persuaded Laura to ride with him, and would have carried her out of the city ; but “ Laura rose from her seat, and seizing the reins with a force that made the horses rear, she coolly chose that moment to spring from the curricle." This amazonian achievement would have excited our wonder, had we not been before apprised of the alarming size of our heroine." Her height was certainly above the beautiful, and perhaps exceeded the majestic.” This description resembles in extravagance that of her eyelashes, which were such, that when " she raised her mild, religious, dark, grey eyes, they rested on the well-defined, but delicate eyebrow; and when her glance fell before the gaze of admiration, they threw a long shade on a cheek of unequaled beauty, both for form and col
After all this we could easily have imagined, that "the contour of her features, inclining to the Roman, might perhaps have been called masculipe.” But we are nevertheless to believe that Laura was very beautiful, for we are elsewhere told, that she was a person of “ matchless simplicity and consummate loveliness.”
Laura is now represented as enduring distresses which seldom befal an individual, with a keenness of feeling undiminished by exercise. She had the care of her father, suffering from dangerous illness, occasioned by his alarm at the absence of Laura with Warren, whose character he had just discovered, or from hypochondriac depression, constantly foreboding and complaining ; she supplied his wants by her labors in painting, in which she was skilled ; and she is exposed to the passionate ravings of Hargrave, who had follow
ed and found her; and who, as he grew more dissolute, was more anxious for a speedy union, urging his suit with a ter. rifying fervor, being seconded by the intreaties of her debilitate ed father. Her only friends, Mrs. De Courcy and her son and daughter, with whom she had become acquainted by means of her paintings, had left the city; and Montague De Courcy had ceased his visits, fearing the increase of an incipient passion, which circumstances prevented his indulging. Alone and enfeebled, she suffered the loss of her father, and the prospect of poverty appalled her. In this destitute state she was received, as a companion, by Lady Pelham, a halfsister to her mother, to whom, on account of some family dissensions, she had been before unknown.
Relieved from the fears of poverty and the persecutions of Hargrave, and elevated to be the associate of rank and fortune, as the niece of Lady Pelham, Laura was for a while insensible to the new vexations which awaited her. In her aunt she found a most assiduous tormentor. She received Laura because she wanted a companion, and Laura would be a very cheap and very useful one ; and as she was handsome would be known and admired, and thus Lady Pelham's disinterested generosity would be acknowledged. She had persuaded herself that her only motives were benevolence toward Laura, and the desire of having some object to fill the chasm in her affectionate heart, which was made by the elopement of her unnatural daughter with a young ensign, whom she never could forgive. Her kindness to Laura, she expected would be repayed by the endurance of her ill temper, and she seemed to value her principally as an object on which to exercise her power of tormenting. The casual mention of one of the most profligate actions of Hargrave, had so affected Laura, as to cause a long illness; and the melancholy which remained, and was caused by the conviction that she must no more have any hope with regard to him, excited the curiosity of her
aunt, and was a theme of unceasing hints and inquiries. In the spring they removed to her Ladyship's seat at Walbourne, near Nórwood, the residence of her friends the De Courcys ; who are represented as hospitable, benevolent, and cheerful, and to whom she often resorted for relief from the society of her aunt. Hargrave, discovering her abode, again appears, as the friend of Lady Pelham, acquaints her with his pretensions and wishes, and intrigues with her to secure the compliance of Laura, who decidedly declares to her aunt her determination'to persist in her rejection, while to Hargrave she conducts with coldness and aversion. The entreaties and commands of Lady Pelham, her threats, and promises, and abuse; the visits of Hargrave, at which she was compelled to be present; the reports of her absolute engagement; and all the plans which could be devised to overcome her decision, had no other effect but to distress and mortify Laura. Their removal again to London, where she hoped to be free from Hargrave, did not bring the expected relief. Admitted to familiar acquaintance with her aunt, Laura was exposed to his passion when she was alone, and to offensive freedoms before others. For a short time the manner of Hargrave was changed from ardor and extravagance, to civility and respect; and Laura congratulated herself on the alteration. But it lasted only while an unsuccessful attempt was made to involve her by gaming ; when he again was wild and furious in his addresses. Such was his influence with Lady Pelham, and her desire that he should succeed, that she connived at a scheme, by which Laura was to be arrested for a pretended debt, and Hargrave to relieve her upon condition of future kindness. His designs were much more atrocious than were confided to Lady Pelham; and the detection of the plot roused the indignation of Laura at the baseness of her aunt, which she could no longer doubt. To appease her anger, and prevent her departure to her friends in Scotland, her ladyship immediately removed to Walbourne.
Montague De Courcy had concealed his love, because his fortune would not permit increased expense, until he had made that provision for his sister, which his father had intended, but neglected. Her marriage to one of the most respectable and sensible men mentioned in the novel, was the cause of an avowal on his part, which produced a rejection by Laura; for she was not yet entirely freed from the dominion of her imagination, and believed that she could not return the love which was offered. Her intimacy with De Courcy was not indifferent to Hargrave, and the final success of De Courcy's suit inflamed him almost to madness. He hated the man of whom he was jealous, and resolved that force should obtain what his persuasions could not. But the regiment to which he belonged, with himself at the head of it, was now ordered to America; and the news of his departure at length relieved Laura from apprehension, and left her to indulge in happy anticipations. Another event, not much less propitious to her peace, also took place ; which was the death of her aunt by apoplexy. We hoped that here the unfortunate Laura's troubles were to cease, and she was to arrive at the fate of all heroines; that she was about to be married, have a great many children, and live a long and happy life. But alas! our author was determined upon having at least one original incident in her book, and seems through the remainder of it as though she had written herself into an extacy, for the purpose.
One evening as Laura was returning from Mrs. De Courcy's, she is seized by ruffians, transported in a carriage with closed blinds, with most indescribable celerity, to the seacoast. She made one unsuccessful attempt by the way to jump out of the window, and in her despair she hid a penknife in her bosom. She was now put on board a vessel, and carried to America. In the wilds of Canada, far from human