d that a lady of the mature age of
five-and-thirty might have outlived her charms; but in her particular
case this was not so. Miss Hardcastle, as she was called, was still very
beautiful, high-spirited, and an excellent horsewoman. She was also--if
that had been necessary to obtain her purpose--well-read and
accomplished. Being clever, good-looking, and not easily shocked,
however, she was more than competent to secure the affections of young
Carew. She was, nevertheless, as I have said, literally old enough to be
his mother; and the idea of the affair having been a love-match, in the
usual sense of the expression, was simply preposterous. That Miss
Hardcastle was herself of this opinion seems evident from her having
enjoined secrecy upon her youthful bridegroom. They lived together as
man and wife, under Mr. Hardcastle's roof, for near six months before
their marriage was proclaimed. Then young Mrs. Carew took a bold step:
she persuaded her husband to bring her to his house, under the roof of
which his mother was then residing. But they did not come (as one might
have imagined) in the fashion of two runaway lovers, who seek
forgiveness for their youthful ardor with penitence and submission. The
bridegroom was full of wild mirth at having at last done something
seriously to astonish the world. He was fond of his mother, after his
own fashion; but so far from entreating her forgiveness, he did not even
perceive any particular necessity for conciliation. The bride was full
of triumph; she had not risked much, and she had won a great stake. It
would have been better for her could she have borne her success with
more modesty. Her mother-in-law was transported with rage, which she was
too wise to exhibit. She knew her son far better than his new wife did;
and she felt that opposition was for the present hopeless; but she took
counsel with her son's guardian, and bided her time. It came at last,
though very slowly. Carew was devoted to his spouse for a whole
twelvemonth--a longer time than youth and beauty combined have ever
enthralled him since. Even when her tender tones--for she had the
sweetest voice that ever woman possessed--failed to thrill him, and her
queenly form to charm, he would probably not have consented to take part
against her, but for her own imprudence. She lost her temper with him
upon a matter where it is difficult for the wisest of her sex to keep
it: she grew jealous."

"Without cause?" inquired Yorke,