The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain
beautiful, imposing, and picturesque in the extreme. Its north and east sides, being the principal fronts, contained the state apartments, while the other si
oms that were appropriated to the servants, and those on the opposite, with the state apartments, which were of magnificent size and proportions, having all the wood-work of Irish oak, exquisitely polished. The gardens were in equal taste, and admirably kept. The pleasure grounds were ornamented with some of the rarest exotics. On each side of the avenue, as you approached the castle, stood a range of noble elms, beeches, and oaks intermingled; and, as you reached the grand entrance, you caught a view of the demesne and deer-park, which were, and are, among the finest in the kingdom. There was also visible, from the steps of the hall and front window, the bends of a sweet, and winding river near the centre of the demesne,
the magnificence by which he was surrounded. The sun had now shone forth, and as its clear light fell upon the house, its beautiful pleasure-grounds, its ornamented lawns, and its stately avenues, he felt that there w
nd in a few minutes was admitte
escension, nor that eternal consciousness of his high birth, which too frequently degrade and disgrace the commonplace and vulgar nobleman; especially when he makes the privileges of his class an offence and an oppression to his inferiors, or considers it a crime to feel or express those noble sympathies, which, as a first principle, ought to bind him to that class by whom he lives, and who constitute the great mass of humanity, from whose toil and labor originate the happiness of his order. When in conversation, the natural animation of his lordship's countenance was checked, not only by a polite and complacent
his heart paid a severe penalty,) carried along with him, in his old age, that respect, reverence, and affection, to which the dignified simplicity of his life entitled him. He was, indeed, one o
s lordship in the act of attaching his signature to some papers. The latter received him ki
ft me, yet I feel that it has taken a considerable portion of my strength along with
ter the fatigue and difficulties of a journey to Londo
I will take the long voyage. Besides, it is indispensable that I should go. This wild son of mine has had a duel
My lord, how did it hap
write to me, for my satisfaction, that they have succeeded in keeping the affair out of the papers. Now, there must be something wrong when my son's friends are anxious to avoid publ
t is better for a man to sow his wild oats in season than out o
; and, besides, I should wish to place a hope of my son's reformation
e certain, that, if Lord Dunroe were united to a virtuous and sensible wife, he would settle down into the character of a steady, honorable, and independent man. I could prove this by many
tible of proof. What you say may be true; but, on the other hand, it may not; and, in the event of his ma
lord, that I would not, even as Lucy's fa
us both; but my son was then very young, and had not plunged into that course of unjustifiable extravagance and profligacy which, to my cost, has disgraced his latter years. I scorn to veil h
her unworthy father's determination and obstinacy. Urge her with too much vehemence, and she will resist; try to accelerate her pace, and she wi
upon your daughter, Sir Thomas," replied his lordsh
about women yourself, my lord, and I need not say that it is unwise to rely upon the moods and meditations of a young lady before marriage. Upon the prospect of such an important change in their position, the best of them will assume a great deal. The period constitutes the last limited portion of their freedom; and, of cour
that involves the happiness of her future life-no female possessing truth and principle would, for one moment, suffer a misconception to exist. Now your daughter, my favorite Lucy, is a girl of fine sense and high feeling, and I am at a loss, Sir Thomas, I assure youwas speaking of t
hip with dignity, "we are her
. He felt himself in a painful and distressing dilemma. Aware that, if the excellent peer had the slightest knowledge of Lucy's loathing horror of his son, he would never lend his sanction to the marriage, the baronet knew not whether to turn to the right or to the left, or, in other words, whether to rely on truth or falsehood. At length, he began to calculate upon the possibility of his daughter's ultimate acquiescence, upon
thought not of my daughter
neralities-generalities, too, my friend, that do not bear upon the question. In one word, is Miss Go
ature will at once step forward unabashed and exclaim, 'Yes, papa, I will marry him.' I protest, my lord, it would require the desperate heroism of an old maid on the last legs of hope, or
ng into the open falsehood. The old nobleman, however, looked keenly at him, and
then, in the
oes, m
dare say, attempted to force her very much on the subject, and the poor girl has no mother. Under such circumstances,
ord," replied the baronet-"You judge him with the severity of a father, I with
s your duty to do so; as a father, that it
calm but noble truth contained in this apophthegm. He was not, however, to be cau
ety a wiser and a better man. Under these expectations, I appeal to your own good sense, my lord, whether it would be wise or prudent by at present alluding-especially if it be rendered unnecessary by his reformation-to his want of morals, in any conversation I may hold with my daughter, and thereby depri
play, and, giving him an
h, and sufficiently ineffectual. My impression is, that Miss Gourlay is disinclined to the alliance. In truth, I dare say she is as well acquainted with his moral reputation as we are-perhaps better. Dunroe's conduct has been too often discussed in f
wn, during the present conference, every possible obstruction in the way of an arrangement on this subject. If your lordship is determined that the alliance be
our evasions have excited my suspicions, and my present impression is, that Miss Gourlay is averse to a matrimonial union with my son; that she has heard reports of his character which have justly alarmed her high-minded sense of delicacy and honor; and that you, her parent, are forcing her into a marriage which she detests. Look into your own heart, Sir Thomas, and see whether you are not willing to risk her peace of mind for the miserable ambition of seeing her one day a countess. Alas! my friend," he co
onsoled his conscience by falling back upon the prophecy of Ginty Cooper-"if I assure you tha
d, Sir Thomas; am I not in c
nion, but absolutely anxious to become your daughter-in-law"-bad as he was, he could not force himself to say, in so many plain words, "the wife of y
onably, S
mount to more than the freedom and indulgence in those easy habits of life which his wealth and station hold out to him with greater temptation than they do to others? I cannot, my lord, in fact, see anything so monstrous in the conduct of a young nobleman like him, to justify, on the part of your lordship, language s
marked by an expression and an air of the highest
eem to forget the object of our confe
, in a deprecating tone, "I me
to intrust your daughter to him for life, ought to have investigated his moral character and habits, and manifested an anxiety to satisfy yourself whether they were such as would reflect honor upon her, and secure her peace of mind and tranquillity in the married state. You say, too, that I do not speak of my son in
in, and seemed
the freedom necessary and due to the importance and solemnity of our object in meeting, I could or would utter such sentiments to the world at large? I pray you, s
selfish to understand the delicacy, the truth, and high, conscientious
ccountably overlooked, and which, after all, holds out a greater promise of domestic happiness between these young persons than anything we have though
eech-"Yes, I am glad you mentioned it, and I thank you, Sir Thomas, I thank you. I should wish to see these two young people happy. I believe he is attached to your daughter, and I will now mention a fact which certainly proves it. The gentleman with whom he fought that unfortunate duel was forced into it by Dunroe, in con
r he was unquestionably an able hand at putting scattered facts and c
the coarse-minded man, after having r
use and subject of a duel, an intemperate brawl in a shooting g
after all, a proof of
d at him with something like amazement, if n
riage-portion besides, now in the funds. I am apparently the last of my race. The disappearance and death-I take it for granted, as they have never since been he
o soon after the disappearance of his, it would have been difficult to relieve you from dark and terrible suspicions on the subject. As it is, the people, I believe, criminate you still; but that is nothing; my opinion is, that the same enemy perpetrated the double crime. Alas! the worst and bitterest
d, that the disappearance or murder of my son was not a diabolical act of retaliation committed under the suspicion that I was privy to the removal or
any act of cruelty whatsoever. A woman who is the source of happiness, kindness, relief, and support, to so many of her humble and distressed fellow-creatures, is not
e baronet, rising and pacing to and fro, as was his custom, at length as
shall give no opposition. She will, unless he amends and reforms, take him, I grant you, at her peril; but be it so. If the union, as, you say, will be the
fair, and just, and honorable, and I am perfectly willing to
cenery of this unknown land of ours. Something, as to time, depends upon Dunroe's convalescence. My stay in England, however, will be as short as I can make it. I am getting too old for the exhausting din and bustle of society; and what I want now, is quiet repose,
ughed-"None will be necessary, my lord, I
e, paced him slowly out of the grounds,
at her engagement to him was with her consent. Dunroe, already aware of his attentions to her, becomes jealous, and on meeting him in London quarrels with him, that is to say, forces him, I should think, into one;-not that the fell
le that this insane scoundrel will come to light in spite of me? Would to Heaven that I could ascertain his whereabouts, and get him into my power o