thful maid, indeed, rather a companion, well educated
and accomplished, named Norton, subsequently married to a cousin of her
own name. After a short visit to my wife, in whose constitution decline
had now set in, and whom I ought not to have left, I returned to
parliament, more than ever ambitious for distinction. I must do myself
the justice to say that I loved her tenderly; but at the same time I
felt disappointed at not having a family. On returning to London I found
that my brother, who had opposed all notion of my marriage with peculiar
bitterness, and never spoke of my wife with respect, was himself about
to be married to one of the most fascinating creatures on whom my eyes
ever rested; and, what was equally agreeable, she had an immense fortune
in her own right, and was, besides, of a high and distinguished family.
She was beautiful, she was rich--she was, alas! ambitious. Well, we
met, we conversed, we compared minds with each other; we sang together,
we danced together, until at length we began to feel that the absence of
the one caused an unusual depression in the other. I was said to be one
of the most eloquent commoners of the day--her family were powerful--my
wife was in a decline, and recovery hopeless. Here, then, was a career
for ambition; but that was not all. I was poor--embarrassed almost
beyond hope--on the very verge of ruin. Indeed, so poor, that it was as
much owing to the inability of maintaining my wife in her proper
rank, as to fear of my friends and the world, that I did not publicly
acknowledge her. But why dwell on this? I loved the woman whose heart
and thought had belonged to my brother--loved her to madness; and soon
perceived that the passion was mutual. I had not, however, breathed a
syllable of love, nor was it ever my intention to do so. My brother,
however, was gradually thrown off, treated with coldness, and ultimately
with disdain, while no one suspected the cause. It is painful to dwell
upon subsequent occurrences. My brother grew jealous, and, being a
high-spirited young man, released Lady Emily from her engagement. I was
mad with love; and this conduct, honorable and manly as it was in him,
occasioned an explanation between me and Lady Emily, in which, weak and
vacillating as I was, in the frenzy of the moment I disclosed, avowed my
passion, and--but why proceed? We loved each other, not 'wisely, but too
well.' My brother sought and obtained a foreign lucrative appointment,
and