CHAPTER XIX.

"Arbre charmant, qui me rappelles,
Ceux où Maman grava son nom!
Ruisseaux limpides, beaux vallons,
En vous voyant, je cherche Estelle :
O souvenir cruelle et doux !

Laissez-moi, laissez-moi, que me voulez-vous ?"

It was not till Morland arrived in England, which was more than a month after the death of his brother, that he heard of the melancholy event, by a letter from his steady and worthy friend, Mr. Barnes, who, instead of addressing his communications to the care of Morland's agent, had directed it to the hotel, where it remained till his return.

By a note of a later date from his reverend friend, he learned that his brother's funeral had

taken place; but that it would be necessary for him to hasten to the country, in order to arrange certain matters respecting the property, which he, Mr. Barnes, did not think prudent to communicate by letter.

Morland's health was so much affected by his late anxiety, and the distressing intelligence of his brother's death, that he was not enabled to leave his room for several weeks afterwards; but, so soon as he was convalescent, set out on his melancholy errand to the country.

Clad in deep mourning, and absorbed in the most gloomy reflections, he alighted from the mail at the end of the road which led to his native village, and pursued his way thither on foot.

His rap at the door was answered by the bark of Carlo; and as old Pearce opened it, the faithful animal jumped, fawned, and wagged his tail with all the strength age had left him; while the tears flowed down the wrinkled cheeks of the old domestic, as he showed his young

master into the room from whence poor George parted, on the fatal morning, to return no

With the aid of Mr. Barnes, the papers reave to the estate were examined, together with George's private accounts, memorandums, &c., from which it appeared that there were so many outstanding debts, and such numerous pressing applications having been made from the creditors, that Morland resolved on its immediate sale, reserving only the house and the Lawn.

From his tutor he also learned, that Mr. Rickets was ruined by his extravagance, and, on his going to London, had been arrested, and was now in prison.

Each successive visit Morland paid to his home was more gloomy than the last-the sight of every familiar object more painful ;— and he wandered, day after day, about the secluded grounds with much such feelings as the poet describes:

"When I remember all

The friends so linked together,

I've seen around me fall

Like leaves in wintry weather,

I feel like one

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled,

Whose garlands dead,

And all but me departed!

Thus in the stilly night,

Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad memory brings the light

Of other days around me."

Lady Lovel and her daughter, who were now residing at their country-seat, had seen the newspaper report of the duel; and also, by one of those confidential epistolary communications, whose contents are passed from relation to friend, from friend to acquaintance, and from acquaintance to various other confiding persons lower in the amiable gamut of society, as positive secrets, had heard that Captain Dunstanville would shortly lead to the hyme. neal altar the accomplished (and beautiful of

course) lady, in whose presence the late quarrel took place. This epistle was given to Charlotte to read, who very unconsciously perused it twice, and then folded it up the wrong way before returning it to her mother.

George Dunstanville had latterly been in the habit of visiting the Lovels frequently, and his sudden death, combined with the circumstance of his engagement to Julia, had affected them much; which feelings, Morland's absence from his brother's funeral, on account of the unfortunate affair in which he was at that time engaged, did not tend to ameliorate. They knew nothing of our hero's arrival in the neighbourhood; but Lady Lovel, having observed the estate advertised for sale, determined in her morning's drive to inquire the cause, of Mr. Barnes; and they were proceeding down the vale for that purpose, when perceiving a person, whom they took for the curate, musing near the river, they alighted from the carriage, and walked down the footpath towards him.