CHAPTER XV.

THE EFFECT OF THE POSTSCRIPTUM.

"Women have died and the worms have eaten them, but not for love."

Long, long did poor Lilian grieve and weep, and mourn in the solitude of her gloomy home.

She endured all the complicated agony of endeavouring to rend from her heart its dearest and most wonted thoughts--the hopes and affection she had fostered and cherished for years. No woman ever died for love but the heroine of a romance; so Lilian of course survived it; a month or two beheld her again tranquil and calm, though very sorrowful and subdued in spirit, for time cures every grief.

The bitter sentiment of insulted pride and mortified self esteem which often come so powerfully to the aid of the deserted, and enable them to triumph over the more tender and acute reflections, were kindled and fanned and fostered by the artful sophistry of Annie, who, with her real condolences, threw in such nice little soothing and flattering inuendoes, mingled with condemnations of Walter, and pretended rumours of his marriage, the beauty and gallantries of his French wife, whom some called a countess and others a courtesan, that Lilian first learned to hear her patiently and then with indignation.

With these were mingled occasional praises of Clermistonlee, managed with great tact, for Annie was cunning as a lynx, and never failed to flank all her arguments with the powerful one, how necessary it was for the restoration of her own honour, that she should receive the roué lord as her husband.

Poor Lilian, though these advices stung her to the soul, learned at last to hear and to think of them with calmness, and (shall we acknowledge it?) to say at last, "that it might be."

With something of that fierce sentiment of desperation and revenge which, like a gage thrown down to fate, makes the ruined gamester place his last stake on the turn of a card, she began deliberately to school herself into thinking of Clermistonlee as her future husband; and though in reality poverty was the real cause of it, Lady Craigdarroch failed not to impress upon Lilian how much he was reformed, how penitent he was, and for three years past had never been engaged in any piece of frolic or wickedness, and wound up by asserting that a reformed rake made the best husband.

What love and perseverance could never accomplish, revenge achieved at last.

"Alas! the love of women, it is known, To be a lovely and a fearful thing; For all of theirs upon the die is thrown And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring."

Long and assiduous were the exertions, the arguments and artifices of Annie, and long and fearful was the struggle that tortured the heart of Lilian, ere she would consent to receive Clermistonlee as her suitor.

At last the fatal words were said.

Annie flew to communicate the joyous tidings, and when next day he rode up the avenue to pay his devoirs, the miserable girl nearly swooned. The ring, the little embossed ring of antique gold, the last and only gift of Walter, and which he said contained _the secret_ of his life, she had now laid aside, carefully locked up in a cabinet, because it brought too vividly before her the memories she had resolved to banish from her heart for ever.

Gladly will we hurry over this chapter of pain and humiliation.

Clermistonlee had increased his great personal advantages by all the aid of dress, and in defiance of the sad coloured fashions of the time, wore a voluminous Monmouth whig, the long curls of which were puffed with aromatic powder, a suit of rose-coloured velvet, laced so thick with gold that the ground of the cloth was scarcely visible, a sword and belt sparkling with jewels. A medal of gold, bearing his coat of arms, was suspended by a chain of the same metal round his neck; it was his last venture in quest of fortune, and his lordship had resolved to spend all he possessed upon the stake.

By the artful Annie he was led forward to the trembling and sinking Lilian, to whom he pleaded his cause, his constancy, and perseverance, his raptures and agonies, his hopes and despair, with an ardour that confused, and perhaps flattered, if it did nothing more. These his lordship brought out all at a breath, as he had got the whole by rote, having said the same things to a hundred different women before; but now his natural ardour and spirit of gallantry were greatly increased by the touching character which sorrow, vexation, and disappointment had imparted to the soft beauty of Lilian--and also by the aspect of the comfortable old manor house and the acres of fine arable land that lay around it; while she (shall we confess it?), as bitter thoughts of Walter and his French wife rose up within her, stole glances from time to time at her noble and courtly suitor--glances which he soon perceived, and fired with new animation, threw such an air of devotion into his addresses that he--triumphed.

Annie placed the hand of Lilian within that of Clermistonlee; he pressed her to his heart, and she did not withdraw it; but burst into a passion of tears. He then threw his splendid chain, with its medal, around her bending neck, and pressed her to his breast, and so sudden was the revulsion of feeling that Lilian fainted.

An hour afterwards Clermistonlee, with all his embroidery glittering in the sun, was seen galloping back to the city like a madman; he dashed through the Portsburgh, and reined up near the Bowfoot, where, at the summit of a ten-storied edifice, dwelt Mr. Ichabod Bummel, minister of the Gospel.

"The father of confusion take your long stair! Why, Mr. Bummel, 'tis like a rascally old steeple," said the lord, breaking breathlessly in upon the lank-haired and long-visaged pastor, who was intent upon "The Hind let loose" of Alexander Sheills.

"Yea, a tower of Babel--but what hath procured me the honour of your lordship's visit?"

"By all the devils, don't think I am come to drub thee for that lecture on the cutty stool--ha, ha! I am about to be married, man--and want you to proclaim the banns and so forth--but my Lord Mersington will see after them for me."

"As my _Bombshell_ saith, marriage is an honourable and godly estate----"

"But a deuced poor one, sometimes, Mr. Ichabod. I am about to be married to Lilian, of Bruntisfield, and thou shalt espouse us, because the citizens hold thee to be their first preacher, and it will increase my influence among them."

"But, my Lord," began Mr. Ichabod, bowing.

"_But_ me nothing--'tis my non-attendance at kirk and my old tricks you aim at--pho! I am a thorough Reformado--but, Mr. Ichabod, hast never a drop of wine about thee?--'tis a hot forenoon."

"My dwelling contains nothing but water, and it is a plack the runlet in these dear years; but, my Lord," continued the divine, after sundry gasps and contortions of visage, "if I lend all my influence to render popular this intended espousal, whilk I perceive to be the main object of your visit, may I crave your Lordship's favour in another particular?"

"Command me in all things save my purse, for 'tis a mere vacuum, if thy philosophy will admit of such a thing. Say forth, my Apostle!"

"I love the maiden called Meinie Elshender--yea, I love her powerfully with the carnal love of this world, and the maiden is not altogether indisposed to view me favourably."

"Zounds!" said Clermistonlee, while the minister looked complacently down on his long spindle shanks; "in the name of mischief, who is Meinie Elshender?"

"Handmaiden to the young Madam Lilian, who views me as an abomination----"

"By all the devils, thou shalt have her, _bongré, malgré_, and after I am fairly wedded, the best kirk in the Lothians to boot--even should I make Juden shoot the present incumbent."

"Heaven reward these generous promises," replied Ichabod, with a smile of incredulity. "Well it is that the maiden hath escaped the snares of her first lover, who was a soldier of Antichrist--a musqueteer of the bluidy Dunbarton."

"Say rather the most princely earl of the noble house of Douglas! Ha, ha--by my faith! we whigs are winning the false lemans of the cavaliers in glorious style."

"And now, my lord, I have one other boon to crave," said Ichabod, producing a tattered and dog-eared MS. from a bunker. "This is a book of which doubtless your Lordship hath heard; my _Bombshell aimet at the taile of the Great Beast_."

"Oh, the devil take thy bombshell--"

"Shame, my lord. It proveth that Jonah--"

"Swallowed the whale; eh, Master Ichabod?" said the gay lord, pirouetting about and laughing boisterously.

"Oh, my Lord, for a centiloquy--"

"Ha, ha! a what?"

"A hundredfold discourse, to convince thee of the crime of this irreverence and irreligion."

"I crave pardon, but what do you want, eh?"

"Your Lordship's subscription; 'tis to be published in the imprinting press in the Parliament Close, whenever new irons are brought over from Holland."

"Oh, by all the devils, certainly; send me a dozen of copies. Faith! I must be quite pious henceforth. And now, bravo! see the Kirk Session about my little affairs, while I ride down the Lawnmarket to old Gideon Grasper, the Clerk to the Signet, for there will be a mountain of papers to sign and seal, and so forth; but the banns, the banns, next Sunday, remember;" and chaunting, "With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan," his lordship danced away out, tripping down the long stair by three steps at a time, and mounting, galloped into the upper part of the city.