MARMADUKE HUTTON;

OR,

THE POOR RELATION.

BY WILLIAM DODSWORTH.

CHAPTER XIV.*

As it was no part of Mr. Joseph Linton's plan to delay matters longer than was necessary, the whole household were early astir the next morning, for the purpose of seeing poor Dinah depart. One or two, in fact, amongst whom was the good old Mrs. Harding and Stephen, had never been in bed at all, the former having struggled through the wretched night hours in a most pitiable state, in her own dark room; whilst Stephen walked sentry up and down the ghostly-looking dining-room, in too restless a state, even to snatch the few hours' uneasy rest, a chair might afford.

Lucy and Dinah had slept together from childhood, and it might have struck a pang even to the heart of Linton himself, to have seen the two poor girls as they assisted each other at their simple toilet, prior to retiring to rest in this saddest of nights in the lives of either.

Dinah, who, from her exceeding loveliness, had been petted by every one from infancy, was seated on a low couch in front of the dressing-table, on which two tall silver candlesticks were burning: a loose night-robe of snowy whiteness was thrown over her form, through a chance opening in which an exquisitely modelled arm

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was visible, and which displayed to full advantage the beautiful white throat and neck; Dinah's face was as pale as death, and there were traces of tears on her cheeks, and her countenance still wore the half-startled expression it had assumed on her father's intimation that she was to accompany him to London: the beautiful coquette's raven hair was unbound, and fell in a dark mass over her shoulders, forming an admirable background to the pale and lovely countenance of the poor girl, who sate, perfectly absorbed in her own sad reveries, well nigh unconscious of gentle Lucy Harding's good offices on the present occasion.

Lucy was apparently quite ready for bed, for her pretty, mildlooking face was already almost concealed by a cap, the deep folds of which really seemed to add another charm to her gentle features; there was an evident sorrow visible in her usually placid countenance, whilst round her eyes two purple circles were sad enough tokens of the tears that had been shed, on her part, at the separation; and yet, for all this her motions were as calm and selfpossessed as ordinary, and as she hung over poor Dinah, with all the old endearing ways she had been accustomed to lavish upon her, from Dinah's childhood, her voice was even cheerful and hopeful, although it shook at times, as if the speaker's words jarred upon her own sad thoughts.

Dinah, love! will you not speak one word to night?" said she, parting tenderly the beautiful black tresses from the clouded brow of her cousin, " here we are on the eve of parting, God knows for how long, and yet when we have so much to say and to plan for the future, you remain silent."

The lips quivered, and the once bright, merry eyes were filled with tears, and yet no syllable escaped Dinah Linton at this appeal.

"If I could think, Dinah, in the sad, sad future, that seems to stretch before both of us," said Lucy sweetly, "that you would at times look fondly and hopefully back to the merry and blessed times we have spent in this dear old house; if I could think that our dear mother could at times shed the blessed influence of her example upon her absent child; if I could hope that whether in poverty or riches, in sorrow or joy, in tribulation or triumph, you would be true to him who loves you, better even than life itself; if I could trust, Dinah, that Walter's image, and Walter's love would be treasured in your heart of hearts, as a possession that might one day compensate for all that you have suffered; if I could hope, Dinah, that you would be as true to Walter, as Walter is true to you, but Dinah! Dinah! speak to me!" faltered the generous girl, suddenly ceasing her appeal, and folding poor Dinah in her arms until she felt Dinah's heart beating against her own; "Oh Dinah, do not look so stony dead, and heartbroken! you kill me with all this silent misery,—you do! you do!"

October, 1847.-VOL. L.-NO. CXCVIII.

Not one word! not a look! was she dead?

"Dinah," said Lucy, bursting into tears, whilst she brought her companion's cold, cold face to hers, until the lips met, and Lucy as she did so, felt that they too were as cold as the lips of the dead ; "Dinah, my sister! whom I have loved with more than any sister's love from infancy! who never had one thought, or wish, or impulse that I have not shared, and who was almost dearer,-God forgive me! than poor mother or Stephen himself;-ob, Dinah, if I have said what I ought not to have said,-if in my fond girlish heart I imagined you were dearer to Walter than you really were, or if I hoped you liked Walter more than you do, forgive your poor Lucy, Dinah; but oh! do not cast her out from your weary, weary heart so cruelly! oh Dinah, give me but one word! only say that you love poor Walter."

Again the lips quivered, and a deep sigh escaped Dinah's weary heart, as she lay motionless in Lucy's arms.

"You have told me twenty times, Dinah, that you did not love Mordaunt," said Lucy more earnestly, " and though you quizzed and trifled so with him, I could see all the time, that your heart was not in your lips, but that you loved him as truly as life itself; I could see when you fell into those pretty fits of abstraction whenever he had gone away disappointed, that you were repaying yourself, for the torture you had just been inflicting upon him,— and yet, oh Dinah! you would forget your own pangs and your lover's unhappiness."

"Lucy!" gasped Dinah, darting a wild terrified look upon her cousin, "my good, patient, gentle, Lucy, do not torture me thus, to none but you would I confess how wilful and even wicked I have been! look at me, Lucy!" and the poor girl flung herself on her cousin's neck with a sudden paroxysm of pain: "I can feel that my face is as deadly pale as that of a corpse, and that my burning eyes are well nigh ready to start from their sockets, and that my lips are shrivelled and blue, as if they loathed the hateful words they have had to utter, but oh, Lucy! you cannot dive down into my heart, and feel the horrid pangs that torture me there! you cannot tell how weak and near to death I feel alike in body and soul! look! I can scarcely stand without I lean on you, for a terrible revulsion has passed over me, and I feel all overcome with pain and terror."

"If Mordaunt only knew," began Lucy, who felt her gentle heart sink within her, at this wretched sight.

"Don't name him, Lucy," gasped Dinah, clutching her own throat nervously, with her little hands, as she strove to speak, “I have wronged, and insulted, and scorned his noble nature,-I treated him with the coldest neglect, when all the while, he loved me so passionately, loved me Lucy!" murmured the poor girl, with the same wild look that had frozen her cousin but a few

minutes before; "Oh! when I think of all I have been guilty of towards him, I feel as if my maddened brain would kill me!" "Dear, dear Dinah, how wild you talk!" whispered Lucy, looking scarcely less disturbed than her companion, " Walter I'm sure loves you.'

"No! no! no! he does not," cried Dinah, vehemently, "I do not deserve to think, that he could cherish such feelings towards me, after all my indifference,-my own heart, Lucy, tells me he! has forgotten me, or if he ever does remember me, it is only to tear my image from his heart, and tread it under foot, as he would a loathsome reptile; oh! what a torture one's own heart is when one feels that self-guilt is its bitterest burden, and a burden too that must be borne in secret."

There was a brilliant light in Dinah's eyes, at the moment she uttered these self-reproachful words, and her cheeks wore so beautiful a glow, that Lucy was speechless through admiration, and even when Dinah, rising up as if triumphing over her own weakness, stood like some glorious prophetess of old, with all the wild and terrible beauty of agony and despair stamped upon her form, and continued to speak, Lucy gradually sank down upon the couch, folding her hands upon her face, whilst a broken sob, escaping at intervals, was the only response she made to Dinah's heartbroken confession."

"No, Lucy," said poor Dinah, repressing a shudder, "I feel what my guilt has been, too keenly to seek to make light of it! I know that I have forever forfeited the love of one, to whom I was only too dear;-I have had my short dream of power and pride, and at last awake to the folly of my own proud, and cruel triumphs; henceforth Walter Mordaunt and I tread different paths, and I can only pray, that his career may be as brilliant and happy as his own noble nature deserves ;-I can wish him this, if nothing else, for all the wrong I've done him," added she, bursting into tears, as she sank down beside her cousin on the couch.

"Dinah ! Dinah !" murmured Lucy, looking up.

"If you love me, cousin, do not say more," said Dinah, laying her little hand, with a faint smile, on Lucy Harding's lips; "and now let us talk of other things, -why should such an insignificant thing as I, engross the whole conversation?"

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'Because, Dinah, your fate at present seems so undecided," said Lucy, clasping both hands of the generous girl in her own; "it requires no mysterious sybil to tell my fortune, you know."

"Ah, poor Dick," said Dinah, almost gaily, "how I used to tease him! and yet, Lucy, I almost used to fancy my time and wit thrown away, for Dick was terribly thick-skinned, and by no means sensitive of ridicule."

"I believe Dick felt it more than he chose to confess," said Lucy, encouraging Dinah's altered spirits," the poor fellow, I'm

sure, has one of the kindest of hearts, and he is so unselfish and generous as well."

"Dick is a noble fellow, Lucy," said Dinah, kissing Lucy's fair cheek as she spoke, "if he were not, he would not deserve my pretty coz: I dont know why it should be so, and yet one always fancies that folks with great broad shoulders like Dick, must be honest and manly; and yet a hunchback may carry a gentle heart beneath all his deformity."

"I should almost trust one of God's creatures, whom an all-wise providence has seen fit to afflict with some incurable deformity, in preference to one on whom nature has lavished all the grace and elegance she had in her power to bestow," said Lucy, gravely; "I think there is something very touching in physical afflictions, Dinah, and of all Scott's wondrous creations, I feel my sympathy and pity most excited by poor Elshie."

"Dear, dear Elshie, and glorious Hobbie Elliott !" cried Dinah, merrily; "oh Lucy do you remember those hours of breathless enjoyment we used to share together in the old summer house when we were first permitted by grandmama to plunge head-long into all the long pent-up marvels of the Waverley novels; that day made me feel as if life had unfolded a new charm to my senses, and I then, for the first time, felt what it was to be such a gifted genius as Shakspere or Scott."

"Dinah !" ejaculated Lucy, starting up as she heard the clock below, in the entrance-hall, strike, what she guessed must be the hour of twelve, "I declare if there is not midnight upon us, and there is a long day's journey before you for to-morrow; we must really give over talking, and get into bed, love."

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Ah, Lucy, why did you dispel my delightful dreams, by that horrid journey," said Dinah, pouting her dewy lip, "but now you shall see how heroic I will be;-when Stephen bids me good bye I will not squeeze out one tear to betray my sorrow at parting." "And then Stephen will think you are as callous as you appear."

"I don't care," was Dinah's gay rejoinder, as she sprang into bed, and drew the white coverlid over her shoulders, "Ah! poor Walter, had he only been here, my stoicism might have made some impression upon him;" and Dinah sighed and yawned, as she closed her eyes and nestled close to Lucy, who now seemed much more wakeful than herself.

"Don't call me over early, Lucy," said she in a drowsy tone, as she folded her arms round her companion's neck, "I want to put off the misery of going away, until the very last moment," and Lucy readily promising to observe her wishes in this particular, the self-willed beauty was soon fast asleep.

After breakfast, the following morning, Dinah stole with noiseless steps into good old Mrs. Harding's room, to give the unhappy