least envious of men, and did honour
to his brother as in all respects his chief, guide, and superior, yet no
wonder a certain feeling of humiliation and disappointment oppressed the
young man after his deposition from his eminence as Fortunate Youth and
heir to boundless Virginian territories. Our friends at Kensington might
promise and vow that they would love him all the better after his fall;
Harry made a low bow and professed himself very thankful; but he
could not help perceiving, when he went with his brother to the state
entertainment with which my Lord Castlewood regaled his new-found
kinsman, that George was all in all to his cousins: had all the talk,
compliments, and petits soins for himself, whilst of Harry no one took
any notice save poor Maria, who followed him with wistful looks, pursued
him with eyes conveying dismal reproaches, and, as it were, blamed him
because she had left him. "Ah!" the eyes seemed to say, "'tis mighty
well of you, Harry, to have accepted the freedom which I gave you; but I
had no intention, sir, that you should be so pleased at being let off."
She gave him up, but yet she did not quite forgive him for taking her
at her word. She would not have him, and yet she would. Oh, my young
friends, how delightful is the beginning of a love-business, and how
undignified, sometimes, the end! What a romantic vista is before young
Damon and young Phillis (or middle-aged ditto ditto) when, their artless
loves made known to each other, they twine their arms round each other's
waists and survey that charming pays du tendre which lies at their feet!
Into that country, so linked together, they will wander from now until
extreme old age. There may be rocks and roaring rivers, but will not
Damon's strong true love enable him to carry Sweetheart over them? There
may be dragons and dangers in the path, but shall not his courageous
sword cut them down? Then at eve, how they will rest cuddled together,
like two pretty babes in the wood, the moss their couch, the stars their
canopy, their arms their mutual pillows! This is the wise plan young
folks make when they set out on the love journey; and--O me!--they have
not got a mile when they come to a great wall and find they must walk
back again. They are squabbling with the post-boy at Barnet (the first
stage on the Gretna Road, I mean), and, behold, perhaps Strephon has not
got any money, or here is papa with a whacking horsewhip, who takes Miss
back again, a