rthy of better success.

Her address to them was brief and matronly, yet spoken with so much
feeling as found its way to every bosom. She apologised for the lateness
of her personal welcome, by reminding them that there were then present
in Martindale Castle that day, persons whom recent happy events had
converted from enemies into friends, but on whom the latter character
was so recently imposed, that she dared not neglect with them any point
of ceremonial. But those whom she now addressed, were the best, the
dearest the most faithful friends of her husband's house, to whom and to
their valour Peveril had not only owed those successes, which had given
them and him fame during the late unhappy times, but to whose courage
she in particular had owed the preservation of their leader's life, even
when it could not avert defeat. A word or two of heartfelt authority,
completed all which she had boldness to add, and, bowing gracefully
round her, she lifted a cup to her lips as if to welcome her guests.

There still remained, and especially amongst the old Cavaliers of the
period, some glimmering of that spirit which inspired Froissart, when he
declares that a knight hath double courage at need, when animated by the
looks and words of a beautiful and virtuous woman. It was not until the
reign which was commencing at the moment we are treating of, that
the unbounded licence of the age, introducing a general course of
profligacy, degraded the female sex into mere servants of pleasure, and,
in so doing, deprived society of that noble tone of feeling towards
the sex, which, considered as a spur to "raise the clear spirit,"
is superior to every other impulse, save those of religion and of
patriotism. The beams of the ancient hall of Martindale Castle instantly
rang with a shout louder and shriller than that at which they had so
lately trembled, and the names of the Knight of the Peak and his lady
were proclaimed amid waving of caps and hats, and universal wishes for
their health and happiness.

Under these auspices the Lady Peveril glided from the hall, and left
free space for the revelry of the evening.

That of the Cavaliers may be easily conceived, since it had the usual
accompaniments of singing, jesting, quaffing of healths, and playing of
tunes, which have in almost every age and quarter of the world been the
accompaniments of festive cheer. The enjoyments of the Puritans were of
a different and less noisy character. They n